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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

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Heart of Thorns

Genre: Beauty and the Beast!AU, Romace, Angst

Paring: Tao x Reader

Inspired by: These moodboards created by @xui-n-soowillbethedeathofme (x) (x) and my absolute obsession with Beauty and the Beast

Summary: Lost in a forest during a storm, you find shelter in a crumbling castle that had been hidden away for years. The master of the house shut himself away, refusing to engage with the world. Too intrigued and running away from your own fears, you refuse to leave no matter how much he tells you to, wanting to try and find the heart within the beast.

Part One I Part Two I Part Three

Everyone knew the story of the man in the forest mansion. He’d once been the son of a prominent and just lord. The people of the land praised the lord’s name as he was always fair and practiced justice amongst all his subjects. It was a month of mourning when he passed away from sickness, but there were high hopes for his son to carry on his legacy. And at first, all was well.

But something happened that changed his heart.

A woman appeared; beautiful, alluring, and sweet. She captured his heart and they say he adored her, showering her in gifts of gold, jewels, and fine cloth. No one knows what happened for sure, only that the lord’s son went mad. There was a fire and the woman died. Most say that he started it with the intent of killing her.

Soon after, the son turned out all the servants and secluded himself from the rest of the world. Whispers popped up that the woman he killed was a fairy or a nymph and for killing her he was cursed. Some say that he was now a beast, sporting fangs and claws where his human teeth and fingers once were. Others say he was now a creature of the night and stalked the forest when the moon is high for wandering prey.

No had seen the son or the castle where he supposedly lived in years. The excuse that the grandmothers gave was that the forest had grown too thick from the trees and vines for the castle to be found. Since the son had turned out all the servants and land workers after the fire and there was no one to keep the paths clear.

You didn’t believe a word of it. A man with fangs and claws hiding up in a castle to terrorize anyone who came too close was utter nonsense; a fairytale to scare the children and keep them within the town walls. Even if there were such a man, you hardly considered the possibility that he was cursed.

“It's only because you moved here a few months ago,” Mrs. Mooney crooned. As the wife of the town butcher, she was privy to all the gossip that passed by the family shop. She often stood outside, keeping the stall for the smaller scraps or animals they hadn’t managed to sell to the more prestigious customers. “But we older folk remember the little boy who used to run around here while his father conducted business. Spoiled little thing. Always had a pretty pony and the finest clothes. Stuck his nose up at playing with the other children just because they had dirt on their sleeves. Serves him right, what he got.”

“You don’t know what he deserved and what he didn’t,” another graying woman chimed in haughtily. Her dress, though still rough like a peasant’s, was much nicer than the other villagers. Silver curls spilled out from under a white bonnet. Her hands looked coarse from hard labor and her skin kissed for years under the sun. Crinkles stayed permanently in the corners of her eyes, letting you know that she did smile on occasion. You’d never seen her before when you came to the market, but Mrs. Mooney seemed to know her well.

“You would know better than anyone, Feifei,” Mrs. Mooney sneered.

Though now you were intrigued, Mrs. Mooney did not elaborate how the other woman would know anything about this make-believe man.

“That tongue will get you into trouble someday, Johanna.” Adjusting the basket hanging from the crook of her arm, the old woman spared no glance at the meat as she walked away.

Mrs. Mooney clicked her tongue. With a shake of her head, she turned back to you. “So, milady, do plan on any wares today?”

“No, my father already sent Claudette earlier this week,” you said. The smell of the meat was starting to get to you, but you tried your best to keep it off your face. “I simply came down to escape the confinements of home.”

A huff pushed past her lips. “Oh, yes. I’m sure that large stone house must be suffocating.”

Though lashing out would have been easy, you bit your tongue. This butcher’s wife didn’t know your history. She didn’t know that compared to your previous home in the city, this new place was a shack.

It was your mother’s inheritance that kept you, your siblings, and your father afloat. The home, bought long ago by your grandfather who was now passed, was a honeymoon paradise for your parents. After your mother died giving birth to you, the house was locked up to be a refuge only to spiders and rodents since your father couldn’t bear visiting the place alone. He’d poured himself into his work, curating business as he brought investors and merchants together. When a major client lost his ships at sea, one of his managers took off with most of the assets and funds, leaving debts and loans in their place. To pay off the leeches, most of your possessions had to be auctioned off and the home that had sheltered you since childhood was sold to a new family.

Life away from the bustling city wasn’t too awful. You didn’t have to worry about being run over by a carriage since most of the residents here couldn’t afford one. Everyone seemed to know everyone, which was both intriguing to you while also a little bothersome. At first your family, being new, was the center of all the gossip. Rumors of your father or brother gambling the fortune away or you and your sister having scandalized the family and caused you all to hide away ran rampant. Eventually, the mill settled down and you were left in peace. Some of the villagers still gave side eyed glances, but you’d learned to brush them off.

Thinking it was time to head back home, you said goodbye to the butcher’s wife and followed the brown dirt street beyond the wall that surrounded the town until the scenery turned to fields of wildflowers and small farms. You took a right at the fork, already seeing the two-story country home come into view. The tan brick was a bit faded from the sun and thick vines grew up the sides and around the windows. A small garden grew out in front. There was a fairytale essence to the home that made you love it more. In the back, Claudette would be hanging the laundry to dry in the subtle breeze. Father was most likely in his study, shuffling through papers and letters to find a way out of this place. Cosette was probably lying on the old couch in the front parlor, constantly fanning herself as she whined of the woes she was forced to live through. Your brother, Lu, would be sitting on a log, writing in his journal when he was supposed to be chopping wood.

Cosette was right where you had guessed she was. As soon as you walked through the door, she jumped up and hurried to you with her skirt crumbled in her hand.

“Where have you been?” she screeched, her dark hair pulled back into an intricately braided bun. You tried not to be annoyed. She must have had Claudette do her hair when both of them were supposed to be helping with the washing. “Father has news that he’s been dying to share with us, but he refused to divulge what it is until you were here.”

You rolled your eyes at your sister’s impatience. “Surely, you must have known I would have been home eventually.”

She “hmphed” at you before whirling dramatically and stomping off towards your father’s study. You followed her slowly, your stomach swishing with nerves.

Truth be told, you didn’t mind it out here. The country was a great deal quieter than the city, the air cleaner too. The greatest unexpected gift, however, was how often you saw your dear father. As a child, you had to savor every dinner, every private concert in your living room, and the short moments you were able to spend with him in between his travels or meetings. Claudette never carried as she was more invested in the connections she was making with the other well-to-do families and Lu was often tagging along with your father as the eldest and heir apparent. Now the four of you felt more like a family. If you were, by some miracle or fashion, to go back to the city, routine would fall back into its previous structure and you would be alone again.

Lu surprised you by already being in the room when you entered, seated in a corner with a hardened look on his face. It was strangely out of place given his boyish looks often kept his expression soft. Your father looked up from the papers that were neatly piled up on the desk. “Aw, (y/n)! You’re back from town. Did you have a nice walk?”

“Yes, I did,” you aswered cautiously. “The market was full today.” Your eyes flicked towards Cosette, who had taken the only other chair, continuing to fan herself even though the temperature wasn’t anywhere near that drastic. “I heard you wanted to see us all together?”

“Yes! Yes! Um.” Your father looked around, perhaps to see if there was another place for you to sit. As there was none, he went on. “I received a letter from Lu’s old friend, Lin Gao.” Lu perked up at the mention of Gao. None of you had seen him since you came here, thinking that he, like the others, had abandoned you all when the money was lost. Now, that didn’t seem to be the case. “He has worked with several connections and can bring us back into good standing with society. He’s even convinced a few merchants and investors to allow me to broker deals again.” Your father cleared his throat. “There is, however, one condition.”

“What is that, Father?” Lu asked.

“He asked for (y/n)’s hand in marriage.”

The quietest gasp escaped your lips. Gao wanted… to marry you?

As the baby sister, you tended to follow your brother and his friends around, begging for attention and often they obliged you, as long as the setting was appropriate for a child. All of his friends had treated you as their own sister, equally protecting and caring. You’d never suspected them to have thoughts that led into the contrary as you’d grown up.

Lu’s eyes landed on you for a split second, studying your face enough. “Did he say (y/n) specifically?”

“Yes, why (y/n)?” Cosette scoffed. “I would be more than willing.”

“He specifically asked for (y/n)’s hand.”

Cosette closed her fan with a snap. “Well, then. Arrange the wedding so we can get out of this dumpy town.”

But wait. Did you not get a say in this?

Your father leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “The help from Gao would be tremendous. But I will not force anything on to any of you. (Y/n),” he looked at you with conflict in his eyes, “if you do not wish to marry Gao, I will send him a letter politely declining the offer. I can find other means on my own.”

He was giving you a way out, if you so wished. But you couldn’t deny the help this would bring for all of you.

“Can I think about it?” you asked in a quiet voice.

“Yes, of course.”

“What do you mean, think about it?” Cosette nearly flew out of her seat. “What is there to think about? If we are to get our fortune back, then (y/n) must marry him. I would in a heartbeat if he had asked for me.”

“But he didn’t ask for you,” Lu said.

Your father insisted. “Let your sister think about it. To force this upon her would break my heart. I will not have her live unhappily.”

“And what about me! Why should I live unhappily?”

“Enough!” Your father stood to his feet and he slammed his fist down on the desk. You flinched at the noise the collision created. Rare was it for your father to get upset like this. He was usually very levelheaded. “I am still head of this household and you will accept my decision. Now, go!”

With a stomp of her foot, Cosette stormed out of the room like a spoiled child told that she couldn't have a piece of candy. Eyes trained down on the floor, you quietly excused yourself and went upstairs to your room.

Your favorite place in the house was your room, the smallest besides Claudine’s on the first floor. But the trade for it was the reading crook by the window, overlooking the garden. You liked the isolation you could feel when you sat on the bench, knees pulled up close to your chest as your skirts fell over the side. The window was cold as you laid your forehead against the glass. A breeze was moving through, swaying the leaves in the trees and rattling the vines against the stone walls of the house.

What would living with Gao be like? You had never thought of your brother’s friend in a romantic light. Would there be any romance between the two of you? Or would you be condemned to a loveless marriage like so many other girls? Could you live like that?

You had no answers at the moment. You weren’t sure if you would ever have an answer. But a compromise was coming to the forefront of your mind. You didn’t have to say yes right away. Maybe you could meet with Gao, get to know him more, in a different way that how you knew him before. And, if you decided that he was not the kind of man you wanted to spend your life with, if there was no possibility of love between the two of you, perhaps you could convince him to help your father anyway, for sake of his friendship with Lu.

You pictured Gao’s face in your mind, willing yourself to love it. But all that did was churn your stomach.

Your father had sent the letter asking if a visit to the city would be possible for you. Gao’s reply came back quicker than expected: yes. He made all the arrangements; he hired the carriage, sent money so you could rest in an inn for a night before arriving in town the next day. Barely a week had gone by since you were first told of this offer and now you were traveling by yourself for the first time in your life.

Cloak wrapped tightly over your shoulders, you kissed your father goodbye on the cheek. Tears were swelling behind your eyes, but you refused to let him see them.

“Be on your best behavior,” he teased. You were the last out of the three to get into trouble. “Write to me as soon as you arrive. Alright?”

“Of course,” you smiled.

Lu patted your shoulder. When you were a child, he showed you affection freely, but now that you were grown, he’d become a bit awkward when other people were watching. Cosette didn’t say a word. She simply fanned herself at a quick rate as smirk rested on her lips. All she carried about was getting back to high society, to the parties and the searching for a husband who possessed a fortune large enough to keep her satisfied.

Your father glanced up at the sky. “Better go now, my dear. The clouds are growing darker. I want you at that inn before the storm comes through.”

“The only way to do that is to go through the forest,” the driver commented from atop the carriage.

Your father seemed unnerved by that observation but gave no protest. “I will wait to hear from you.”

You gave one last kiss to his stubbled cheek. “Goodbye, father. Take care of him, Lu. Will you?”

“Naturally,” Lu said with a chuckle.

You merely nodded to Cosette before stepping into the carriage. The cabby lurched forward and you allowed the small smile that had been straining on your lips to fall away. Anxiety settled in your stomach. You wanted to have a positive outlook on this whole thing. It was better to possibly marry a friend of the family rather than a complete stranger twenty years your senior.

Unclasping the hook that held your cloak together, you let the soft fabric fall behind you on the seat. The literal weight off your shoulders helped you to breathe easier. You closed your eyes and leaned back. There was still a long journey until you would arrive back in a city that you hadn’t seen in months, although it felt more like years. That was another life to you, a past self. One you had been okay with letting go. And now you were uneasily walking back into its arms.

The ground shook, rattling the walls of the carriage. You pushed the curtain out of the way and peaked out the window. Flashes of lightning so bright that not even the thick trees of the forest could keep them back splintered across the sky. The storm had come quicker than anticipated. Raindrops splattered against the dirt floor, starting out slow then growing in pace. Soon it was impossible to see more than five steps in front of you.

The wind grew untamable. The carriage rocked from side to side, the thin wheels ricketing against the strain. A bolt of lightning screamed too close for comfort. The horse reared back in fright as the carriage passed by a ravine. It was all too much. The carriage toppled over, falling down the side of the ravine. You were tossed around the cabby like a rock between a group of children. When the falling finally stopped, you let out a cry of relief. A second cry left your lips, this time for the driver. But no reply came.

The carriage had landed on its side, but thankfully, it had another door to escape through. You clasped the cloak around your shoulders once more and pulled up the hood before pushing the door open and climbing out.

You were soaked as soon as you stepped out of the carriage. The driver was gone. You didn’t know if he was dead or if he had ran away. The horse, the poor thing, didn’t move or whine. Water was slowly rising in the creek from the rushing rain. You had to get out of here. With what little strength you had, you managed to climb back up the side of the hill. A chill froze your fingers and chattered your teeth. You walked in the opposite way that you thought the carriage was heading. Getting back to your home was your only hope. You had never been in these woods and the sky was too dark to tell directions from the sun. The rain was pouring down harder. Each step you took grew weaker. An unseen tree root stuck out of the ground, catching your foot. Shock ran up your arms as you tried to catch yourself when you fell. You couldn’t go anymore. You were too cold, too tired. So you lied there in the mud, wishing for a miracle. The rain soon came to a stop, but you were still too exhausted to push yourself up. Your eyes grew tired. Finally, the lids closed. The sound of horse hooves against the mud grew near, but you couldn't be sure if it was real or simply your imagination clinging to hope.

“We can’t just leave her here, Xao.”

“But what would the master think if we showed up with her?”

“So, you would leave her to die?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then we take her with us! The castle is big enough that he would never even have to know.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Someone lifted you up from the ground, but before you could discover who it was, you lost consciousness completely.

You weren’t sure what woke you up. It could have been the splitting headache that pounded at your skull. Or it could have been the shouting coming from the other side of the door.

“Get her OUT of here!”

“My lord, please, see reason. The poor child was dying in that storm.”

“I don’t care. She’s alive now, so get her out!”

“But she’s still sick. The poor thing has a fever. She’s been sweating all night.”

“I do not want her here. No one is to come here, you know that!”

“Let me take care of her. Once she’s on her feet again, I’ll take her back into town.”

“Fine!”

Heavy foot stomps echoed off the floor. One side of the double doors opened and inside stepped the old woman from the market.

You?

“You’re awake,” she sighed. “I can only imagine what had woken you up.” In her hands was a silver tray of different morsels and a tea kettle slowly letting out a flow of steam. Seeing you struggle to sit up, she hurried to set the tray down on the nightstand and help you. “Don’t overexert yourself, miss. You’re not fully recovered from that awful storm yet. You’ve been asleep for two days now.”

Two days! Your father must have been losing his mind when he never received word that you had arrived in town. A coughing fit of your own started up. The old woman gave you a glass of water to calm your throat before adjusting the pillows behind your head. You took in the bedroom that you were housed in. The light gray drapes that hung from the bedposts were old and a little faded but still made from an expensive velvet fabric. The blanket that covered you was soft and warm and smelled of lavender. Cosette would squeal at the size of this place. It was even bigger than her room at the old house in the city.

“Where am I?”

The old woman’s hands stopped before she could pull out the warming pan from the foot of the bed. “You're at the lord’s estate.”

You frowned. “What lord?” As far as you were aware, the closet lord was at least several days ride from town. And you doubted he would have allowed a room to go untouched like this one obviously was.

Sadness fell upon the old woman’s face. “He’s a good man. A good man with a tragic past.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, the old woman folded her hands and laid them in her lap. “Do you remember the story Mrs. Mooney was telling you at the market?” You nodded. “This is his home.”

“He… exists?”

“Yes. Though the awful rumors….” She shook her head. “Anyway, yes. But his lordship isn’t accustomed to visitors. I apologize for what you might have heard.”

Perhaps it was the fever, but your curiosity was now out of your control. “Why doesn’t he want anyone here?”

The old woman stood up. “Never you mind. We’ll get you back on your feet and then Mr. Chan will take you back into town.” She poured a fresh cup of tea, handing it to you carefully.

“Do I have to go back to town?”

“We don’t really have a choice, dear. You heard the master.” She eyed you as you sipped on the warm, caramel colored tea. “What is it? Why don’t you want to go back to town?”

You finished off the tea before explaining. “My family wants me to get married, to help the financial situation. At first, I thought I was willing to at least try, to see that man again and find out if I could love him. But… now I’m grateful for the storm.”

“If you don’t wish to marry him, why not say so?”

“Because if my father never restores his reputation and our family falls further into ruin, it will be all my fault.”

The old woman shook her head. “You poor thing. That’s too much weight to bear.” She let out a long sigh. “Try to eat and then get more rest. Your eyes look heavy. We’ll see if we can’t delay your being cured by a few more days.” She headed for the door. After opening on side, she halfway turned back around. “I’m Mrs. Chan, by the way. If you need anything, pull on the cord by the bed. I’ll hear the bell and come to you. Now, rest.”

As soon as the door closed and you were alone again, you felt the weight of your lids growing. Reaching over to the tray, you tore off a piece of the bun and chewed on it slowly. Eventually, you nodded off into a dreamless sleep.

Over the next several days, you passed between peaceful sleeps and uncomfortable awareness. Your fever broke on day two, but you still felt weak. Mrs. Chan checked up on you often, keeping you well fed and making sure there was a fresh pitcher of water or tea for you to drink. When you stopped sleeping as much, she brought you a book to occupy your time. But you read through the comedic romance quickly. A tingling was coursing up and down your legs. They needed to move, to be used. You’d been lying in bed for so long you weren’t sure if they even worked properly anymore.

Earlier, Mrs. Chan had stopped by to say she was going into town to pick a few things up at the market. Mr. Chan was to be out on the grounds so if you needed anything it would have to wait for her return.

Curiosity was a dangerous thing. On one hand, you could find nothing of interest in this ancient castle. On the other hand, you could find yourself in the absolute wrong place and have yourself thrown out into the cold before Mrs. Chan could come back and rescue you.

Silly. All of it was. A little walk wouldn’t do any harm. You would make sure to stay near your room and if you heard footsteps, you would run back here in an instant.

With your feet bare and the nightgown Mrs. Chan had given you made of a thinner material, you were a bit cold as you left the comfort of the blankets. But you pushed forth with your curiosity. This grand room was all you had seen of your haven. You wanted to know more about the home of the lord whose memory haunted the village. You stuck your head out first, looking down the hall from either side. It was empty save for the polished suits of armor that lined the sides, sitting between old portraits previous tenants. As quietly as you could, you closed the bedroom door behind you and softly stepped further into the hall. Through the long space you made your way, glancing at every painting as you passed. Some had chipped paint while others’ frames had dulled over the years, but each one was still magnificent, the subject stunningly beautiful in their own unique ways. You weren’t sure if it was the magic of the artist or if the family was truly blessed in that manner.

Every so often you would peer into a room when the door was unlocked. Most of them were bedrooms or small studies. By the collection of dust gathered on most of the furniture, they hadn’t been used in quiet a while. Soon, the hall took a turn, spilling out into the Grand Hall where the other hallways met. You started to go right when a set of double doors down a shorter hallway in the other direction caught your eye. They were bigger than any of the other doors you had seen so far. You hurried to that one instead, intrigued by what might be behind it. Barely able to get it open with your weak arms, you squeezed through the space and stumbled inside. Then you gasped.

When Mrs. Chan had described the library to you, she had said that the family had a fair collection of books. You might have to clarify with her what a “fair amount” really meant.

The library was housed in the back most tower, the shelves built into the walls and going higher than your eyes could see. Ladders made of wood and metal were attached to the spaces between the shelves. They moved freely from side to side to put any book within reach. As a child, you thought your father had the biggest collection of books by any one person in the world. How silly you were. This place could hold twenty of your father’s old library. You whirled around and around, taking in every detail. It was like a fairy tale.

You stepped closer to the wall and ran your hand over the leather bindings. It had been so long since you’d been able to take in the smell of old books. You had only been able to save two of your favorite novels from the auction. They were currently hidden under your bed. If Cosette ever got a whiff of them, she’d sell them to pay for a new dress. As you made your way around the library, you spotted another door, one that nearly blended in with the shelves. Feeling brave from your latest discovery, you tried the handle. It turned with ease. You pulled the door towards you. Sunlight spilled into the library. The secondary room was mostly empty – save for one object. A piano.

Bang!

The door shut in your face, startling you backwards. You stumbled into something hard. Turning to see what it was, you gasped in fright

A tall, dark hair man with the left half of his face covered in a white mask glared at you.

“What are you doing in here!” he shouted, face glowing red with fury.

“I-I-I’m sor-sorry,” you stutter as you scurried back. The door to the room stopped you from going any further. You were trapped with no way to escape. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You were supposed to say in your room,” he continued to bellow, not concerned at all with your fear. “Stay away from this room! Go!”

That last command was enough to send you running, passing the man and leaving the library. You hurried to the Great Hall, to get back to your room as quickly as possible. Looking back over your shoulder, you checked to see if he was coming after you. The hallway was empty behind you. Once safely back in your room, you scurried under your covers as if they would protect you from the masked man.

Mrs. Chan gave no indication that she was aware of your little adventure. If the masked man – the lord of this castle, you presumed – had told her, surely you would have been thrown out by now. She did, however, seem upset about something.

“Is everything alright?” you asked before she could leave the room with your empty food tray.

“Oh, it’s nothing I want to trouble you with, dear,” Mrs. Chan said.

You smiled at her. “I’ve been told I’m a very good listener.”

A second went by and then Mrs. Chan sighed. “It’s just the master. He wasn’t been sleeping well. He’s been wondering through the west wing lately and I’m worried about him.”

The west wing? That was where you were headed before the library stole your attention. “What’s in the west wing?”

“Nothing of importance,” Mrs. Chan snapped. It was a harsher tone that you were used to. You lowered your gaze remorsefully. “Oh, dear. I’ve upset you. Don’t worry about and try to get more rest. You need color back in your cheeks.” She left the room, blowing out the lamp before shutting the door and leaving you in darkness.

You woke a few hours later to a loud bang. At first you thought of ignoring it. Then the thought of something happening to Mrs. Chan came into your mind.

Throwing a blanket around your shoulders, you carefully relit the lamp and stepped out into the hallway.

“Hello?” you called out softly. Another bang answered you. It was faint, not coming from this hallway. You followed it, occasionally calling out again. No human ever replied.

You passed through the Great Hall and into the west wing. You should learned, really, from your earlier excursion. But the thought of someone being trouble refused to let you turn back. Now that you were closer to the source, a soft moaning could be heard among the silence. You pressed your ear from door to door, trying to see if it was coming from behind one of them. It was the door on the very end that held back the sound. With enough moonlight coming from the wide window at the end of the hall to see by, you put the oil lamp down on the floor out of the way and went inside.

Even in the darkness, you could see the smoke and soot stained walls. The remnants of a bed stood in the middle of the wood. Hanging behind it was a portrait of a beautiful woman with golden hair and rich brown eyes that stuck out even with half of the painting burned and curled.

“What are you doing in here!”

You gasped as the lord of the castle stepped out of the shadows. His mask was gone, but he kept the left side of his face covered with his hand. In his other hand was a small torch. With its light you could see the scars on the back of his hand, the tight and lifted skin usually caused by fire. You said nothing, too stunned to find words.

Dropping his left hand, he reached out and grabbed you by the wrist. The scars on his face were now partially visible, but still mostly hidden in shadow and by the locks of hair that had fallen. From what you could see, they matched the scars visible on his hand. “I asked you why you are here!”

“I’m sorry!” Your voice came out in squeaks, fear running you cold despite the proximity of the flame. “I heard noises. I thought someone might be in trouble.”

He sneered at your answer. “If you’re well enough to walk around then GET. OUT!” He practically threw you out of the room.

You landed on your knees but didn’t stay there for long. You scrambled up to your feet and took off down the hall, leaving the oil lamp behind. The nightgown caught on your foot in your haste as you passed the staircase. You went tumbling down the marble stairs, a scream piercing your throat. You couldn’t stop no matter how you tried. When the bottom of the staircase finally came, you were out cold.

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patchwork-panda · 4 years

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If A Moment Is All We Are (6/?)

As usual, story text below and AO3 link: Here

“Ring, ring! Guten morgen, Kusunoki-san!”

I groaned and brought my hand over my face, trying to block out the sunlight filtering through the blinds so I could go back to sleep.

“Dazai-san? It’s too early in the morning for this. What do you want?”

“What do I want?” Dazai sounded uncharacteristically surprised. “It’s one in the afternoon, Kusunoki-san! You completely missed your Entrance Exam!”

“I WHAT?!”

I sat up immediately and threw the futon covers off. As promised, Kunikida called me yesterday morning after I left the Agency offices, to check up on me and see how I was doing in my new place. However, when I asked about the exam, the only thing he said was to “be ready at ten the next morning.” Without any idea of what the Entrance Exam was actually going to consist of (although Kunikida was insisting on secrecy, I knew better than to try asking Dazai), I’d gone online to look for study guides for police academy recruits and detective school hopefuls. Then, at some point in time, my old high school strategy of studying like a maniac the night before kicked in... Without meaning to, I ended up staying up until four in the morning.

I’d set multiple alarms to keep myself from oversleeping but there must have been a power outage in the middle of the night. Or, maybe the alarms hadn’t worked. Or worse, I’d somehow managed to sleep through all of them.

“Yeah, everyone’s wondering where you went,” Dazai continued, ignoring the unintelligible, frantic noises coming out of my mouth, “I was thinking of coming by your apartment to check on you but it sounds like you’re okay and the Port Mafia didn’t come and try to kidnap you again...”

“I’m fine!” I exclaimed. “Tell everyone I’m fine and I’m ready for the exam and I can be there in thirty—no, twenty minutes!”

Clothes, clean and dirty, flew through the air as I desperately searched for something that didn’t look like glorified pajamas.

“Dazai-san, you’re close to the President, right? Could you please tell him to give me a second chance?”

“Hmm, I dunno...”

Dazai’s voice sounded far away. I thought I heard the crackling of a bad connection from his end of the line and my heart nearly stopped.

“Please, Dazai-san!! I’m begging you!”

And at the worst possible moment, I stepped on a T-shirt I’d thrown aside and slipped. As I hit the ground, my cell phone went flying out of my hand. It bounced on the tatami-covered floor until it settled against the pajamas I’d just discarded, several feet away, disconnecting my call and nearly shattering the screen in the process. Racked with nerves, I crawled forward on bruised hands and knees and reached out to pick it up... The first thing I saw when I flipped open my device was the time. The actual time.

The phone rang again and I answered.

“Dazai-san.”

“...Kusunoki-san?”

“It’s only eight-thirty in the morning.”

***

“Kusunoki-san! Over here!”

As I watched Dazai waving cheerfully at me from across the street, looking very well-rested, even happy, I suddenly understood why Kunikida was always choking him. I didn’t consider myself a violent person but after everything that’s happened, being in Dazai’s presence was starting to bring out the worst in me... I could feel thoughts of revenge brewing inside my head the moment I laid eyes on him and that shit-eating grin.

“So?” he asked brightly, “How did you sleep last night?”

“Poorly,” I snapped, wishing I could make his head explode just by glaring at him. “I might’ve gotten a little more rest if you hadn’t woken me up so early.”

“But Kusunoki-san...”

Dazai blinked innocently at me.

“I was afraid you might miss the exam and oversleep so I thought I’d give you a wake-up call.”

“How thoughtful of you...”

I took a long swig of the coffee I’d filled my thermos with. Even after the shock of possibly missing the exam had worn off, I was too wired to go back to sleep. So, I’d brewed myself the strongest batch of coffee I could possibly make, downed half of it and taken the rest to go. I was so cranky and irritable that I’d spilled coffee on my best shirt, ripped a hole in the only professional skirt I owned and somehow bruised both shins on the way to the door. I had to settle for a plain white T-shirt and jeans, and after the incident with Akutagawa, I barely had enough hair to put into a ponytail. Combined with the bags under my eyes, I probably looked like a serial killer; I noticed people went out of their way to avoid me on the bus on my way here, which honestly suited me just fine. Unfortunately, as I stood before Dazai, who was wearing the same nice work clothes as usual, I felt severely under-dressed. At least, if anyone asked, I could honestly tell them this was Dazai’s fault.

“Do you give all your coworkers wake-up calls?”

“Only when it’s important,” Dazai chirped, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “But maybe I should do it more often. I gotta say...”

He grinned wickedly at me.

“I kinda liked hearing you beg.”

At once, I felt the blood rushing to my face.

“You—! You pervert—!”

“Anyway,” Dazai said, effortlessly catching the thermos I threw at his face, “Shall we go to the test site?”

Seething, my face as red as the brick building that housed the Armed Detective Agency, I seriously considered not following him inside, but the lure of passing the test and finally being able to control my powers was too strong. Muttering angrily under my breath, I walked through the front door and into the elevator, where Dazai was waiting for me.

“We’ll be going to the main office,” he said, pushing the button for the fourth floor once I was inside, “where you’ll have two hours to complete a written, multiple-choice exam. The exam is typically conducted in secrecy, so the President has asked the Agency staff to come in after lunch today. That way, nobody will come and bother you while you’re taking your test. We’ll have the whole place to ourselves.”

I raised an eyebrow. Seeing the suspicious look on my face, Dazai chuckled.

“Something on your mind, Kusunoki-san?”

Yeah, if they wanted to make sure nobody ‘bothered’ me during the exam, why did they send the most bothersome guy they had?

“Just wondering why you’re here when everyone else was asked to stay home.”

Dazai grinned.

“Because.”

There was a soft “ding” and the doors slid open.

“Because...?” I prompted him as we proceeded down the darkened hallway.

But Dazai didn’t speak again until we’d stopped at the door at the very end of the corridor. There was a placard on the center of the glass bearing the words “Armed Detective Agency.”

Dazai put his hand on the knob and his cheerful smile changed into a smirk.

“Because I’ll be your exam proctor.”

The door swung open and without knowing why, I braced myself.

I wasn’t actually sure what I was expecting, but to my relief, it was just an ordinary office. A spacious, well-decorated office, but an ordinary office nonetheless. Dazai sounded every bit as amused as he looked.

“What were you expecting? A police interrogation room?”

“Not at all, I just wasn’t expecting anything nearly this nice.”

It was the truth. The office, a sizable, well-lit space, made for a pleasant exam room, with its high ceilings, large windows and pretty green-tiled floor. Everything in the room had clearly been color-coordinated by a professional and as I stepped into the room, I thought I could smell flowers. The detectives’ office had been divided into two sections by a pair of lush, well-kept hedgerows and I stared at the colored glass panels of the client booth as we walked past.

The main chamber was an open office space where most of the desks had been lined up into two long rows on either side of the room. One desk was set apart from the others and had been placed at the head of the room, just a couple of yards away from the far wall. Unlike the other work stations, this desk’s surface was completely bare and as we approached, we passed a row of old-fashioned latched windows, all of which had been left unshuttered, filling the room with bright, natural light.

“This is a beautiful office,” I marveled as Dazai pulled up a couple of chairs.

“Isn’t it?”

Dazai sighed.

“If only we were a little higher up. Then I could have a better view of the city next time I throw myself off the roof.”

When I looked at him, he just smiled blithely and placed several sheets of paper, stapled together to form a packet, face-down on the table.

“Alright, here’s your test. You can start whenever you’re ready.”

He snapped his fingers.

“Oh and before I forget...”

He started fishing around inside his pockets for something, probably a pen. Curious, and slightly unnerved by the strange metallic clinking noises I was hearing, I watched as he shook out his trench coat and mumbled to himself. I was about to ask just how many pens he had in there when he produced a pair of handcuffs from somewhere inside his clothes.

“I’ve got something for you, Ku-su-no-ki-saaan.”

His cheerfulness was downright unnerving when paired with the handcuffs in his grasp. I took a step back as his grin stretched wide.

“I don’t want them.”

“What are you so nervous about, Kusunoki-san?” he asked sweetly.

The handcuffs glinted in his half-bandaged hands as he advanced on me.

“These are an important part of your Entrance Exam.”

“I really don’t see how handcuffs would be part of a written exam,” I stammered, backing away.

“Well, if you could just give me your hand—”

And before I could make a run for it, he seized my left wrist.

“—I’ll explain.”

I was yanked forward. There was a flash of silver and hollow click and I looked down at my arm to see that one of the cuffs had closed around my left wrist.

“What are you doing?!” I yelped, simultaneously trying to yank my left arm back and hide my right arm at the same time. I probably looked every bit as ridiculous as I felt but I had to stop him before he could finish placing the other end of the cuffs on me...!

“I’m getting you ready for your exam,” Dazai replied nonchalantly, grabbing my left wrist back with ease. “I said I would explain, didn’t I? Now hold still...!”

There was another click and suddenly, I was hand-cuffed to my least favorite detective in the Agency. Out of pure shock, I stopped trying to fight him.

“Alright, let’s see...” he said.

He raised his right hand, now cuffed to my left, up a little and gave it a shake. My left hand followed and shook along with his. Then he raised his right arm all the way up in the air until my left arm was forced to go along with. When he moved it back to his face so he could scratch his cheek, I abruptly pulled my arm back and gave him the dirtiest look I could manage.

“Dazai-san.”

“Hm?”

“Why am I handcuffed to you? How am I supposed to take a written test like this?” I said, shaking my own cuffed wrist meaningfully as Dazai’s wrist jangled and bounced along in its metal prison along with mine.

“Well, your right hand is still free isn’t it?” Dazai pointed out. “You know, the one you keep using to throw things at me? But seriously, though. We need a way to make sure you don’t cheat. Do you remember what my Ability is?”

I remembered.

“No Longer Human. It lets you nullify any other Ability User’s powers.”

Dazai clapped his hands together jubilantly and I was jerked forward again.

“That’s right! In other words, I’m here to make sure you don’t somehow activate your Ability during the test. We can’t have you looking into the future and getting the right answers that way, now can we? No, the test isn’t meant to test your Ability. The test is meant to help us see what you’re really made of... Now then, the rules! Rule number one: no using your special Ability. If you cheat...”

He pointed jovially to our wrists, shaking the cuffs again for emphasis.

“I’ll know. And I’ll fail you. You with me so far?”

I swallowed and nodded.

“Good. Rule number two: you and I have to stay handcuffed together at all times. If you undo the handcuffs at any point during the exam or if you force me to undo the handcuffs for any reason, you also fail. Understand?”

I nodded. It was a strange rule and to be honest, this whole setup smelled like bullshit but if keeping me from using my Ability was that important, I could go along with it. I just had to last the two hours and pass this test and then I would finally learn the secret to controlling “The Story of Your Life.” It was just too bad the one person who could keep my Ability from randomly activating happened to be Dazai. But first...

“Uh, Dazai-san? Before we start the test...”

“Yes?”

“...Can I go to the bathroom?”

***

Who the fuck wrote this test?!

My short bathroom reprieve (sans handcuffs) had lulled me into a false sense of security. Perhaps there was no test at all and this was just another one of Dazai’s pranks. I don’t know how he’d managed to convince the others to let him pull this off but he’d done it and now I was sitting here looking at the poorest excuse for an examination known to mankind.

It looked like a normal test at first, having the kind of formatting I’d seen back when I was still in school, including a space in the top left corner for my name and today’s date. However, the entirety of the first page looked like it was ripped straight from an online personality quiz, half of the second page was full of high-school level math questions and although Dazai had said I’d be taking a multiple choice quiz, right there on the third page was a short answer essay type question. When I looked at my “exam proctor” for an explanation, he just flashed me his most charming smile and informed me I still had ninety minutes left to take my test.

Then, when there was one hour left on the clock, Dazai’s phone rang. The sound echoed loudly in the unnatural stillness of the empty office and I watched with vengeful glee as Dazai struggled to find a way to reach into his right coat pocket with his free hand without taking me with him.

“What happened to turning off your phone during exams?” I quipped when he finally pulled out his device. “You know, to not distract me?”

“Oh? Do you find me distracting, Kusunoki-san?”

He winked.

“Don’t worry, this won’t take long.”

Scoffing, I turned my attention away from him and back to my ridiculous “test.” As much as I hated to admit it, the soft light of the mid-morning sun was very flattering right now. All that light coming from those big, open windows had turned the room into something akin to a photographer’s studio, smoothing out Dazai’s complexion and lending his eyes a warm, amber glow. Unfortunately, with that personality, those good looks were all but wasted on him. I watched him put his phone up to his ear and was surprised to find his expression had turned serious.

“Seriously?” he whispered, over what sounded like panicked shouting on the other end of the line. “Now?”

Feeling my eyes on him, he glanced at me, tried to make a subtle shooing gesture with his right hand, abruptly remembered he was still handcuffed to me and settled for turning as far away from me as possible to hide his phone. I continued to stare at him as he spoke in hushed tones into the receiver.

“But we still have an hour left—Yes, yes, I understand. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

He hung up and turned his head to see that I was still watching him. At once, he purposefully angled himself so that I couldn’t see the caller ID on his cell and stuffed it back in his coat.

“Something you want to ask me, Kusunoki-san?” he inquired innocently, “A question for your handsome proctor, perhaps?”

“Please don’t put words in my mouth.”

I frowned.

“What was that call about?”

“Oh, nothing important,” he said dismissively. “You just focus on finishing your test.”

“Are you sure?” I asked nervously, “It sounded pretty serious to me.”

But no matter how I tried to ask, he wouldn’t give me a straight answer. After a few rounds of this, he suddenly sat up and laughed maniacally.

“Okay, it sounds like you’re almost done with your test! In that case, you have five more minutes before I collect your paper!”

“Wait,” I yelped, the blood draining out of my face, “I’m not done!”

“Four minutes and fifty-five seconds!” Dazai sang and I rushed to look through the questions I’d marked for checking.

The room was getting warmer. I could feel myself sweating as the five minutes wore down to almost zero. Dazai really wasn’t kidding. When I tried to argue for more time, he just pointed at the clock on the wall and started making ticking noises in the most annoying way possible. I was at the very last question left unanswered (“At 10 am, Train A leaves Yokohama, headed for Tokyo at approximately 55 km/h. On a parallel track, Train B leaves Tokyo for Yokohama...) when all of a sudden, I felt the odd sensation that we were being watched by something.

Something inhuman...

I looked up.

There, outside the window, standing directly in front of my desk, was a petite girl in a brilliant red and yellow kimono, seemingly hovering in mid-air. Her long black pigtails and elegant clothes fluttered eerily in the wind and as her sharp blue eyes focused on me, I was suddenly chilled to the bone. And then, before my eyes, an enormous, glowing apparition in the shape of a pale kimono-clad woman slowly materialized behind the girl. It stretched out its snow-white fingers and pulled out a long, thin sword, a Japanese style katana, and turned horrible pupil-less yellow eyes to the windows—towards us.

“Dazai-san.”

Slowly reaching out with my cuffed hand, I carefully touched my fingers to Dazai’s. I felt him shift next to me and I knew that he could see the girl too. His shoulders looked stiff and for once, he wasn’t smiling...

“This isn’t part of the exam, is it?”

#dazai x reader #dazai x oc #osamu dazai #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #fanfiction #dazai

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starlitsummermoon · 5 years

Text

The Black Knight of Stein

Part 1: Nightmare in Black

Story Rating: ADULT 18+ Pairing: Byron Wagner X Kyshimi (MC) Word Count: 5498 Story Summary: Heading off to Stein for a much needed vacation with her future husband, Kyshimi finds it hard to relax while she’s being plagued with nightmares of a monstrous black wolf. When she arrives during Stein’s most celebrated festival of the year, all the pieces start falling into place, but the most important pieces are still missing. Digging through history, she hopes to find an answer before she’s hunted down. Part 1 is also on Ao3!

[A/N]: Kyshimi is pronounced (kee-shee-mee). This chapter contains no SMUT... but the next one certainly does. I plan on making these chapters long, but I promise I put a lot of work into them and they’re worth it, so bare with me! Part 2 is in the works!

Piercing through the canopy of the forest, rays of sunlight lit the grassy floor at its roots. Birds and deer darted in and out of sight as a woman wistfully skipped in between the trees. Time slowed, each leap and bound lasted forever before her bare foot felt the cooling comfort of the earth beneath her. Following the hidden path, guided by the setting sun, her lips yielded a grin each time she felt the fading heat of the sun on her face.

Farther and farther she skipped, the foliage smoothly transitioned from deep, cooling greens to bright, warm reds. The air grew frigid, her breath visible with each bound. Long grass no longer brushed against the hem of her pure white gown for it vanished with the greens, instead debris of crunchy leaves scattered around her feet.

Without warning, the sky grew angry and dark as the leaves were whisked away by a harsh breeze, leaving the ground bare and cold. The trees became unsettling, their sharp branches piercing the dark clouds above them as they swirled with mighty force. Her skin now ice, her smile left with the leaves as dread seeped into her body. A sharp pain at the back of her head, she dared to glance behind her, wisps of her hair catching in her eyes.

It was following her!

An enormous, pitch black mass sprinted through the trees behind her, swiftly closing the gap with powerful lunges, baring its fangs. Its large white eyes narrowed down to slits as its pointed ears pinned back into the thick, dark mane protecting its neck. Dagger-like claws dug into the earth, throwing twigs and stones behind as it neared its target. Closer and closer it got, the hot, wet breath nearly caressed the back of her neck.

Tears ran down her cheeks as she tried to scream, but nothing came out. Only seconds of a glimpse was all it took to keep her legs going, but her body wouldn’t move any faster. With tears clouding her vision, she tripped over a large root of a tree. Slamming into the ground, her arms and elbows stung as her teeth bit down on her bottom lip in a weak attempt to subdue the pain.

Ice swept over her, turning back to witness wide open jaws swallow her.

Kyshimi shot up, a loud gasp escaping her lungs as adrenaline pulsed through her limbs. Her gaping eyes carefully examined her surroundings. The warmth of the morning sun bled through lace curtains, giving solidity to her furniture. The many bottles of perfume atop her vanity shone, dozens of pairs of earrings sparkled, and the many folds and wrinkles of her sheets formed mountains and valleys.

A deep sigh of relief blew from her lips, now convinced that she was in the safety of her chambers, protected by the warmth of her bed. Lowering her head, her mess of ebony hair flowed over her shoulders and nearly down into her lap where her hands rested, still shaking from the vivid imagery of razor sharp fangs sinking into her.

Throwing one corner of her sheets aside, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, her toes reaching down to feel the cold marble of her floor. Gripping the edge of her mattress, she continued to stare down at her pure white nightgown, her arms shaking.

“That dream again,” she whispered hoarsely to herself, “why do I keep having that dream about that━” An image of nightmare mass flashed in her mind. She swallowed a hard lump in her throat before muttering, “...wolf.” A shiver trickled over her skin, her hands instinctively wrapping around herself, rubbing the back of her arms to warm back up, but it was hard to shake the fear that had been haunting her for several weeks now.

With a hefty sigh, she pulled herself up on her feet and made her way to her vanity. Sitting in front of her enormous mirror, she clearly saw the dark circles underneath her eyes. Tugging at her cheeks and leaning in for a closer look, she groaned. She was to leave to Stein in a day’s time and she hardly looked presentable enough to leave her chambers.

“I’m such a mess,” she vexed, snatching her hair brush. “I can’t let Giles see me like this or he’ll never let me go.” Fixing her hair and applying a bit of makeup helped hide the dark circles, but her eyes gave everything away, and no amount of jewelry or perfume could distract from them. Another attempt was made with the choice of dress, a long frilly skirt and a blouse to match.

Twirling around in the mirror, the dark color brought a smile to her face. It was autumn afterall, her favorite season, and not only that, but she had been invited to Stein’s All Hallows Eve Festival as King Byron’s honored guest. She was a bit sad that for the first time in her life, she would be missing out on Halloween in Wysteria, but according to Nico and Albert, the All Hallows Eve Festival was a significant holiday in Stein and celebrated a bit differently than most countries.

The mere thought of it was exciting to her as she tried to imagine what it could be like and how different it could be compared to how she was used to celebrating Halloween. Besides being a couple of days long, she couldn’t imagine Halloween being spent any other way; spooky decorations and children running through the streets collecting candy.

Now ready for the day to begin, she took one last glance in the mirror. The distracting thoughts of Halloween and being with Byron cheered her up, nearly forgetting all about dark circles and the nightmarish black mass. She knew, however, that she couldn’t ignore it forever. Thoughts bubbled inside her stomach, ready to burst.

‘I wish Byron was here… he would know what to do, or at least, know what to say.’

Placing herself at her small desk in the corner of her room, she pulled out her ink and quill along with a thick piece of paper. Taking in a deep breath, her quill hovered over the paper as she questioned herself.

‘Should I really be writing to him about this? Is this something he should really be bothered with?’

She felt like a pest whenever she bothered Byron with her personal problems knowing how busy he was as King, but he always seemed to get upset with her if she bottled everything up without even talking to him about it. He always knew what to say to comfort her, what to do to make the situation better, but she wanted to try handling this on her own.

“It’s...fine,” she said with an unconvincing smile, “I’ll just write it and not send it.” Re-dipping her quill, she scratched against the paper with its tip.

‘My Dearest Byron,

I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night when I arrive. I’ve missed you terribly. Unfortunately, I haven’t been sleeping very well as of late. My dreams have been plagued with nightmares leaving me with restless nights for the last several weeks. What’s odd is that it’s the same dream, over and over.

They’re becoming more vivid each time, convincing me that it may be real. Because of this, it’s getting difficult for me to feel safe unless I’m locked away in my chambers. I know that’s not healthy, but I don’t know what to do about this anymore. I feel so lost…

I’m hoping to find solace in your embrace and comfort in your sheets. I await to feel your lips again.

With all my love,

Kyshimi’

Folding it up nicely, she even placed her silver waxed seal over the golden thread that held the parchment together. Ready to be sent with haste, she instead placed it back in the drawer, never to be seen by the receiver's eyes.

Her day was ending early, heading towards her chambers with haste as Giles followed closely behind, summarizing the days events with verbal footnotes. Mesmerized by the patterns of the marble tile and the sounds of her clacking heels, her advisor’s words fell on deaf ears for her thoughts were elsewhere. It was hard to focus with such little sleep for so long.

“Princess Kyshimi?” Giles’s voice echoed down the corridor, loud enough to catch her attention. She stopped, turning her gaze up at him with drooping eyelids. The sight of her worn out expression caught him off guard as it was the first time he had gotten a good look at her face today. “My word! Princess, are you━”

“I’m fine, Giles,” Kyshimi harshly cut him off, facing down the hall to continue her way towards the safety of her chambers. “I just… haven’t been getting very good sleep as of late. Now, as you were saying, when am I scheduled to leave for Stein tomorrow?”

The corner of Giles’ mouth curled unpleasantly in the tuck of his cheek, hesitantly waiting for the Princess to get a few steps ahead of him. He hadn’t been talking about tomorrow’s schedule at all. Clearing his throat, he decided to match her pace and walk at her side again, trying to get a better assessment of her condition, “Ahem, you’re scheduled to leave just after breakfast with Sir Alyn as your escort, but Your Highness…”

“Yes, Giles?”

“...I believe a change in plans are necessary. I shall escort you to Stein in Sir Alyn’s stead.”

“Nonsense, you need to run the country in my stead while I’m away.”

“We’ll return in just a few days, that shouldn’t be bothersome to Leo or Duke Howard if we simply━” Giles’ words faded into silence as Kyshimi grew cold. All of a sudden, he was changing the plans for everything. She was scheduled to be gone for several weeks in order to “learn, understand, and get well-acquainted with King Byron and the people of Stein before she becomes Queen,” or as she liked to think of it, a nice long vacation with King Byron. During this time, Giles was supposed “run” Wysteria in her place to the best of his ability while Alyn accompanied her during her travel’s leaving and returning to the castle. Nico, and occasionally, Albert, were set to be her personal attendants and guards during her stay at Stein castle.

Carefully gathering her thoughts, she took a deep breath and faced Giles with a large, concern-free grin and asked, “Why are you so worried? We’re not changing the plan. You’re staying here while I’m staying Stein for a much-needed vacation, remember?”

“Of course, Princess,” Giles sighed, matching her quickened pace perfectly, “it’s just… I’m worried. I didn’t realize the state you were in… are you sure you don’t want to shorten your stay? Or have me accompany you?”

“I’m 110% sure, Giles. Besides, this will be good for me. I’ll be on a much needed vacation while learning about Stein at the same time. According to Nico, this one of their biggest festivals of the year. It would be foolish to miss out on this opportunity.”

“Excellent point, Your Highness, but━”

“AAND, I wouldn’t want to disappoint any of the monarchs and bureaucrats who are expecting to meet me during my stay, now would I?”

Giles was left speechless. Expressionless, he gazed down at the Princess as they finally arrived at her chamber doors, her smile almost sincere enough to hide her exhaustion. Realizing he wasn’t going to win this battle, he chuckled to himself, ‘Of all times for my tutoring to take effect…’

“Princess, you’re absolutely correct,” he boasted confidently followed by a deep bow, “Please, forgive my doubt in our future Queen. Now, as you requested, your maids packed little for you, as per your request.”

“Yes,” she nodded in agreement, “King Byron informed me that my wardrobe will be taken care of entirely, including anything that I wish to purchase while I’m there.”

“An excellent method in getting acquainted with their fashion, Princess. Just be sure to take a few minutes and pack any personal items you wish to bring along with you. I’ll take my leave now, so please get to bed early and get some much needed rest. We want our precious Princess looking presentable for the King of Stein tomorrow. Goodnight, Princess.”

With a small curtsey in response, Kyshimi watched Giles until he turned down the corridor, finally leaving her to be alone once more, a rare occurrence since Nico decided to remain in Stein after she had announced her engagement to King Bryon. She enjoyed it, though, not having an attendant or an advisor glued to her side for several hours a day, despite the fact that she missed Nico’s companionship.

Locking her door behind her, a wave of relief washed over her as she released a huge sigh from her chest, her back sinking against the door as she did so. The large room was tranquil and quiet, no maids, no attendants, and no responsibilities. Walking to the center of her room, she looked around at her belongings which were starting to become glazed with the light of dusk. Nothing popped. Everything she would need is already waiting for her in her chambers at Stein castle, there wasn’t any personal item that needed to come with her.

Her eyes slowly drifted to the small desk in the corner of her room where a letter to her beloved hid in the confines of the drawer. Fiddling with her fingers, she crept up to the desk, slowly pulling the drawer open until she saw the glint of the silvery wax seal. Placing the letter atop the desk, she stared at it, remembering the words she wrote.

Keeping her eyes on the letter, she backed away until she felt the edge of her bed hit the back of her legs. Sinking into the edge, her feet hovered above the floor as she flopped back onto her fluffy comforter.

“Even if I were to send it now,” she whispered, her eyelids growing heavier as she stared at the blank ceiling, “Byron wouldn’t get it in time.” She shook her head lightly. “No, I don’t want him to worry. Everything will be better when I see him tomorrow.”

A shadow swept across her room. Her eyes shot back open. Bolting back up, her head pounded from the rush, struggling to listen for any foreign sounds as she analyzed her room once again. The windows were all shut, the balcony door was closed, and none of her curtains were moving. No breeze, no draft. She turned back to look at her door, ensuring it was still closed. It was, and she clearly remembered locking it.

The shadow returned, swiftly traveling across her room before it vanished. It was from outside. Her head snapped towards her balcony door, the lacey curtains burning from the light of dusk, the shadows from the tops of surrounding trees were starting to bleed up from the bottom. She didn’t blink, afraid she was going to miss it again. With a swoosh, the shadow passed the balcony door once again, its wings fluttering as it neared the glass before flying away, trying to enter her room before seeing there was no way in.

“Spinner!” Kyshimi gasped, hopping off her bed and to the balcony doors. Swinging them open, she dashed outside, the chilled breeze of autumn kissing her face as she looked up to the tree tops. The heavy contrast of Spinner’s snow-white feathers against the orange and red leaves of the canopy made him easy to spot. Reaching her hands up into the air, the Princess couldn’t hold back a small amount of tears and a large smile as she called out to him, “Spinner!”

Gracefully descending from the sky, Spinner silently swooped passed the Princess and entered her chambers, landing on the wooden post of her sofa; his favorite perch. Carefully following him inside, Kyshimi sat on the sofa, soothing stroking his feathers as he rested.

“It’s so nice to see you, Spinner,” she said softly, scratching a spot right under the owl’s beak, “Did Byron send you to check in on me?” Byron often sent Spinner to check in on her during their extended periods apart, sometimes including a letter or a small note. This time there was none.

With yet another sigh, which she made a mental note to cut back on in Stein, she happily held out her arm for the bird, who gently grasped it as she stood up and paced around her room, placing featherlight kisses on his beak as she did so. This was routine each time Spinner came to visit.

The sweet comfort of the large bird’s appearance allowed her to finally relax for the first time in days and the reality of her leaving to be in Stein with Byron hit her hard.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” the Princess whispered, “but I can’t help but feel anxious, Spinner.” The owl’s head spun around, getting a good glimpse of the room. “I’m excited to see Byron again, there’s so much I need to talk about with him, but I don’t want to burden him with my problems… is that fair of me? To assume he doesn’t want to hear about my problems, or to assume that he even has time to hear them, being a busy King…?”

The large bird started preening some of his feathers, forcing a small laugh from the Princess’ lips as she gently shook her head. She knew full well that he couldn’t understand what she was saying, and if he could, it’s not like he could repeat her words to Byron. He wasn’t a parrot afterall. Glancing back at the balcony, she was ready to send him off.

“Sorry, Spinner,” she shrugged, keeping the smile on her face, “there’s no letter I wish to send this time, so I’ll see you━ AAH!” Spinner flapped his large wings, releasing his grasp on her arm without harm and flew across her room. He landed on the desk in the corner, his feet pinning the letter. Reaching down, he picked at the golden thread until he firmly had it in his beak. Kyshimi gaped in panic.

“No, Spinner!” she blurted, afraid to move in case it frightened him and he flew off, but it was too late. With a hefty thrust of his wings, the owl flew out the open balcony door with the letter in hand. Darting after him, she could do nothing but watch from the door as he flew away, most likely back to Stein. There was no sense in calling for him, he was too far gone now.

“Damn that smart bird,” she muttered, leaning against the frame of the door.

The carriage left for Stein on schedule the following morning and was now entering the forest dividing the two countries. Sir Alyn Crawford pushed the group of knights surrounding the carriage into the forest without hesitation, constantly on his guard for anyone or anything that had intentions of harming Princess Kyshimi during her journey to Stein Castle. Riding directly next to the carriage as his trusted knights led the entourage and trailed behind, he still kept his eyes and ears open for anything suspicious.

Meanwhile, inside the carriage itself, Princess Kyshimi leaned her head against the window, watching the passing scenery change from villages to open hills to thick forests. A normally soothing way to pass the time on her way to Stein, but she couldn’t relax.

Spinner had taken the letter to Byron. She blamed herself because Spinner was accustomed to delivering letters to Byron from her even if he hadn’t sent one to start each time he flew in for a check up. She concluded the bird knew what her letters looked like and assumed she would want it delivered. A foolish mistake on her behalf.

‘I never should have even written the letter to begin with. I should’ve just waited until I saw him. Why did I write the letter?!’

Her eyelids fluttered, the scenery outside began to blur as she yawned. The rocking of the carriage and the numbing sound of over a dozen horses trodding the already beaten path enticed her body and mind enough to let her guard down just enough to leave her consciousness in a sleep-driven daze.

Just as she was about to surrender to sleep, a sharp pain crept up on the back of her head, threatening to become a full-blown migraine. Straightening up her posture from the sudden discomfort, she started to feel an icy chill consume her fingers and toes. Looking down at her hands, she spread out her fingers and clenched them into fists, over and over to prove to herself she wasn’t going crazy.

“So odd…” she commented to herself, turning her hands over and spreading her fingers out once more, “this… this almost reminds me of━” A quick flash of nightmare-black with white fangs and blood-thirsty eyes entered her mind for the briefest moment. Her entire body froze, terrified to glance out the window to confirm her suspicions.

“I-it’s only a dream,” she shivered, muttering under her breath as she turned to look out the window, trees and shrubbery blurring in and out of view, “it’s only a dream. It’s only a d-dream. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s. NOT. REAL!”

The carriage abruptly came to a halt, Kyshimi flying forward out of her seat and landing in the cushions of the bench across from her. Several horses outside starting braying, their riders, noble Knights of Wysteria, starting shrieking in panic. Before she had a moment to collect herself, Alyn flung open the door of the carriage.

“Princess!” he shouted in alarm as he found her nearly on the floor. With one, heavy step, he entered to assist her back onto her seat, her hair all over her face. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she flipped her hair back and did her best to fix it, pulling strands that had caught in her mouth out, “but what happened? Why did we stop?”

“I’m about to find out,” Alyn stepped back out, “I just needed to make sure you were all right after that rough stop.” Without leaving her side, Alyn waited for one of his knights to bring him a report as he still stood in front of the entrance to the carriage. He refused to leave the Princess’s side knowing something dangerous could happen any second.

“Captain!” a knight shouted as he and his horse cantored towards Alyn and the Princess.

“What happened?!” Alyn demanded, “Are we being ambushed?”

“No, Sir!” the knight’s horse nearly skidded to a halt, the creature still spooked, “the horses at the front just got spooked bad. Same with the knights riding them.”

“Spooked? By what?!”

“I.. I don’t know.”

Alyn’s brow furrowed in frustration as he glanced back at Kyshimi and mumbled, “Wait here.”

“If it’s all the same to you,” the Princess stood up from her seat and smoothed out any wrinkles in her skirt, “I’d rather come with you. I want, no, I need to know what your knights have to say about this.” Her stern expression commanded no quarrel as she stepped out of the carriage, ready to follow whoever was willing to lead her to the spooked knights.

Pressing his lips together into a thin line, Alyn simply nodded. He could understand why the Princess would be upset with a possibly foolish delay, but he was wrong. The chills and the pain in the back of her head, she had to know what happened. She needed proof from these knights that what she felt wasn’t real and was just apart of her imagination and sleep depravity.

The knight on the horse turned around and led the way towards the front of the formation, where a group of knights were sitting on a log on the edge of the road, their horses on the other side of the road being soothed by other knights. As they got closer, Alyn could see more horses and knights than they had brought with them on their mission, except these horses were all black along with their respective riders. Worried, the Captain protectively placed himself in front of the Princess, ready to draw his sword, but the closer they got, the better he could see familiar faces.

“Looks like Stein came to meet us half-way,” Alyn confirmed, turning his head towards the Princess in hopes of reassuring her. Excited, Kyshimi ran ahead to see who had arrived with the Stein knights. Standing before the Wysterian knights that were resting on the log aside the road was Albert and Nico.

“Princess Kyshimi!” Nico was the first take notice of her. “Are you all right? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No, Nico, I’m fine!” she smiled, holding back the happy tears threatening to stream down her face. She was so happy to see Nico, it took everything else she had to hold back a hug, even though most of the people around them knew about their friendship.

“Are you certain?” Albert stoically interjected, nearly pushing Nico out of the way.

“Very certain, Al,” she smiled, her body relaxing in the presence of Byron’s most trusted knights. With a quick glance around, Byron was nowhere to be seen. A twinge of disappointment was felt in her chest, but it was easily ignored. These two were more than enough comfort to last her until she saw him in Stein.

“We heard the commotion just before we caught up to you,” Nico reported, his expression more serious than it ever had been before, turning his attention to the Wysterian Captain. “We arrived as soon as we could.”

“We appreciate that,” Alyn nodded his head in gratitude, “I was just about to find out what the cause of the commotion was.” Only a few feet away from him sat the knights, still shaking with fear.

“S-sorry, Captain,” one of the knights shamefully looked up to Alyn, meeting his questioning gaze, “but I've never s-seen anything like it before!”

“What exactly did you see?” Alyn’s eyes narrowed, getting down on his knee to meet the gazes of his frightened men.

“A b-beast!” the knight shuddered.

“No! A monster!” the knight next to him shrieked. “I thought I was seeing things, Captain, but it’s there!”

“What did it look like?” Alyn asked, his tone a bit more comforting than before. “Can you give us any details?”

“Black,” a knight said flatly, his eyes cold, “black, and larger than any bear. I could barely see his eyes, but his… his teeth! His teeth could probably tear our armor apart. It almost looked like… a wolf. A giant, monsterous wolf.”

“Okay, anything else━”

The group’s words had faded as Kyshimi’s body became numb. It was everything she feared. They saw it. They saw the creature from her nightmare, it was real, and it was following her!

Just like it had in her dreams.

The world around her grew dark. Her knees started to shake, begging her legs to start running, but where? The beast could be anywhere in the forest. She was afraid to look up, afraid she would see its eyes staring right into her soul before it━

“Kyshimi?”

Nico placed a comforting arm over the Princess’s shoulder, taking notice of her suddenly solemn expression. Snapping back to reality, she felt the warmth from his touch and smiled at him, but her smile quickly disappeared and she gently pushed his arm off of her.

“What are you and Albert doing here, anyway?” her question was spoken louder than she had intended, catching the attention of both Captains. “It’s not normal for you to meet us half-way, I mean, you never have before.”

“His Majesty, King Byron, deemed it necessary that myself, along with a carefully selected group of knights, assist in escorting our future queen to Stein’s castle steps,” Albert expertly answered, adjusting his glasses as he glanced over at Nico, “not all participants were my choice, but we all happily obliged.”

Kyshimi lowered her gaze, thinking that Byron must’ve received her letter in time, sending his own entourage to escort her to him. Swallowing back her tears, she lifted her head back up and met Albert with a grateful grin. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Alyn’s disapproval written all over his face.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Albert responded to Alyn’s silent protest, “King Byron does not doubt your abilities to safely deliver the Princess to him. Instead, his concern lies with the fact that this is her first time traveling to Stein as his future Queen, therefore he deemed it wise to send extra escorts.”

“If you say so,” Alyn shrugged, his disapproval disappearing, “I won’t question my future King.” The two captains began to discuss formation changes peacefully, leaving Nico the opportunity to lead Kyshimi back to her carriage, holding out his arm for her.

‘That’s a good cover story,’ she thought to herself, certain that it was because he had received her letter the night before. Gripping Nico’s arm firmly, the knights around them began taking their places in the new formation. The rush of black and white horses around them seemed a bit overwhelming as she held Nico a bit closer.

“I wonder what the knights really saw,” Nico pondered, weaving himself and the princess in between the busy knights and horses.

“What do you mean?” Kyshimi snapped her gaze at him, an eyebrow raised in question as her heart sank into her stomach. The knights saw exactly what she had been seeing in her dreams, she had no doubt it was real now. “You heard what they said, it was a giant, b-black wolf.”

“You really believe that?” there was a hint of a chuckle in Nico’s response. “C’mon, Kyshimi, I was there with you when you did your studies with Leo. There aren’t any wolves in Stein or Wysteria, or even the surrounding countries. There hasn’t been for centuries.”

“Okay…” she knew he was right as she recalled the lessons she had with Leo. Wolves were located in the western-most part of the continent, nowhere near Stein or Wysteria, but her dreams and what the knights described stuck with her. “Then how do you explain what they saw?”

“It easily could have been a bear. Bears can get pretty big, maybe your knights haven’t seen one in a while. They usually stay away from large, loud groups of people like this. Maybe they scared him, eh?”

Nico’s reasoning comforted her to a point, but the feeling in her gut wouldn’t leave. The situation was too convenient. Remembering her vivid dreams, she mentally looked over the creature she had seen over and over again, questioning if she had really been dreaming about a bear instead.

‘No… it’s a wolf, I have no doubt about that…. But what the men saw….’

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Nico leaned in, his lips almost touching her earrings. She heard him very clearly, but her eyes were too busy scanning the trees surrounding her, careful not to seem frazzled to the knights around her, especially the captains. Feeling a cold chill on the other side of her body, she looked towards the forest on that side, and for a moment, she thought she saw a large, black mass flee from sight in the distance.

It was still here.

“Nico,” her grip on his arm tensed, “will you please accompany me in the carriage?”

“Of course,” Nico smiled with relief, “but are you sure you don’t… want…” His words trailed off, his eyes meeting hers. Her cheeks trembled and her teeth bit down on her lip, wordlessly pleading with him. An odd sense of knightly duty came over him as he sternly answered her, “As you wish, Princess.”

With every knight in his place, Albert and Alyn on either side of the carriage and Nico sitting directly across from Princess Kyshimi, the journey to Stein Castle continued. This time, with the carriage curtains pulled over each window.

During the ride, Nico excitedly caught up with Kyshimi with all that has happened since they last saw one another. He barely let her get a word in, afraid she was going to look at him with those pleading eyes again. The conversations they had easily distracted her for most of the ride, filling the small space with laughter and excitement. Each time any thought of the black beast tried to enter her mind, she immediately thought of Byron and the safety of his arms which she longed for. Her worries, she hoped, would subside during her time in Stein.

As the entourage exited the forest into Stein, the large, black-furred creature watched from afar until it could no longer see the knights trailing behind the Princess’s carriage, daring not to leave the shadowy cover of the forest… yet.

#midnight cinderella #MidCin #byron wagner #giles christophe #Alyn Crawford #albert burckhardt #nico meier #starlit's smutty spooky tales

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cooljovialjupiter · 4 years

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The Girl Who Can't Go Home

That particular afternoon was raining. The window panes breathed mist blurring the view outside and a loud thunder could be heard minute by minute. Mud splattered across the painted brick walls from the heavy rain. It was one of those rare times that we, the students, were looking past outside the windows wondering when we are allowed to go home. Our teacher, who was also glancing outside, had stopped earlier in his discussion while awaiting the directive of our principal. I reckoned it was the typhoon from yesterday’s weather broadcast that was brewing outside that day. Heavy rainfall has started since that morning and I bet the rainwater had now begun gushing from the canal all over the sides of the pavement.

We were just listening to the pelting whips and whaps of the furious wind towards the trees that danced blurrily above the ground through the windows. Everytime a lightning struck, silence befell upon our lips and our hands quickly to cover our ears for the loud and echoing thunder that followed suit. The whole class was rather silent, observing keenly the weather outside. You could make out some faces etched with worry. Some were busy tapping their phones in frenzy like their lives have depended on it. Some were almost bawling their eyes out with the fear of possibly being stranded overnight in school and a million scenarios you couldn’t help but overthink.

I never peg myself to be a keenly observer. But that particular time, I was, and maybe the weather has urged me on. I noticed this girl from the same class at the back row. I never noticed her before, which was odd. Or maybe I was, I don’t know. Her head was carefully side-positioned above her folded arms which lay right on her desk. She was sleeping. She looked so peaceful amid the chaotic weather outside and the bothersome faces of my classmates.

The long silence stretched on as seconds ticked by and the palpable concern to get home has only increased tenfold. As though hearing our silent plights, the intercom spoke our principal’s voice mouthing the very words we wanted to hear. Everybody got up to their seats and immediately swung their backpacks around and through the door they went thronging among themselves. I stayed behind not wanting to get into a possible stampede. Our teacher scurried his way to the door as well in longer strides. Left alone by the door, I decided to just turn off the lights before I go. But my hands got suspended when I noticed a figure still slouching in her desk in the far corner of the room.

That girl! I thought. Did she have no friends? Why did nobody bother to wake her up? I thought.

I had no choice. If it hadn’t been raining outside, I’d never EVER walk towards her to wake her up. It’s particularly hard getting a ride outside going home with this kind of weather, so I’m basically doing her a favor.

I stood behind her watching the corners of her mouth heaved in a faint snore. I shook her shoulders lightly, “Miss,” I said. “Manguli na.” She only blabbered some incoherent words at first as though indirectly telling me to go away. I shook her again, this time with a bit of force until her eyelids slowly opened and blinked, closed, opened and blinked again. After realizing what had just happened, she sat upright the back of her hand wiping the invisible drool on the corners of her mouth. She stood and straightened the crease on her faded blue blouse down to her dark blue skirt. Her head panned from left to right like she had been wondering where the others went. She begun stuffing her things inside her bag in haste.

“Asa na man sila?” She finally wondered out loud. Now that she’s awake, my work is done and I can go home peacefully. I walked through the door and rummaged my bag at the side pocket for the foldable umbrella that has always been with me. The rain still hadn’t stopped completely so it really did come in handy.

The long pathway from outside our building stretching to the next and unto the exit of the gate was exceptionally slippery with thick green mosses scattered across the elevated pavement. And just as I suspected, the rainwater has almost caught up with the elevation.

“Shit wala ko’y payong,” I heard a voice from behind. “Pasunua ko ha taman lang sa gate,” she said almost confidently as though I’d let her. Before I could say no, she already swung her arm around my left shoulder as I held the umbrella in my right hand, pulling me awkwardly close to her side. I looked at her incredulously but said nothing. She puckered her lips at the sight ahead of us. Afterwards, the corners of her mouth stretched into a small smile. Silence then ensued between me and her as we walked side by side towards the exit of the gate, the pelting raindrops against my umbrella as the only background. I just don’t know what to say. And I reckon that was the longest walk of my life.

The guard opened the gate and smiled faintly at me. “Salamat. Uli sa me ya.” I told him sincerely.His smile faded and his eyes squinted curiously at my direction. His next words hit me like a thunderbolt, “Unsay me, naa ba day kay kauban?”

After a while that I have been dumbstruck, he went on, “Gisabayan ka ni Lala?” he joked in half disbelief and bewilderment.

That seemed to have waked me up in a trance.

Lala was and is still an infamous name. Of course, I knew her. Everyone did. But never did I know how she looked like.When I glanced back beside myself, the beautiful girl was gone. All I see is a faint white figure donned in faded blue blouse and dark blue skirt which, the longer I observed, looked as though drenched in a faintest hue of red. She looked grotesque, one eye almost falling out of its socket. Her head disfigured and her hands clutched at her heart. She smiled and mouthed ‘thank you’ before she disappeared into the thick fog just across the cemented highway.

Two years ago, a senior student named Lala and her classmate met an untoward accident just across the school gate. The weather was as bad as today’s weather. Just as they were about to cross, they did not notice a car speeding up their way concealed by haze and fog from that afternoon’s endless rain. Her classmate was thrown with quite a force while Lala was runovered beneath the screeching tires, her head almost unrecognizable from the sudden impact. She ended up with several broken ribs, one eventually punctured her heart. Lala did not survive.

Until now, she still shares umbrella with any random student towards the gate during rainy days, hoping she could get home dry, safe, and ALIVE.

------------

All events in the story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people and places is purely coincidental.

#lala #rainyday #caraccident #ghost #creepy #umbrellagirl

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larryshorcrux · 7 years

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Fancy Seeing You Here

A little oneshot I wrote a while ago. Hope you enjoy!

Harry and Ginny run into the two people Harry least wanted to see on their first date. As if he wasn’t nervous enough. Or Harry regrets telling James anything ever

It was a cool October day and the students at Hogwarts were buzzing with excitement due to the Hogsmeade trip scheduled that day. Amidst the crowd of excited students, however, was one student who had been dreading this visit for weeks: Harry Potter.

It’s not that Harry didn’t like Hogsmeade; he loved buying new pranks at Zonko’s and enjoying a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks as much as the next kid. No, what the young man dreaded most about the visit was the date he had to go on.

After skirting around his feelings for her all summer, Harry had finally plucked up the courage to ask Ginny Weasley on a date, much to the chagrin of Ron (her older brother and Harry’s best friend). Harry had been worrying for weeks over whether or not the date would be a complete disaster.

What if he tried holding the door and hit her on accident? What if when he tried to pull her chair out for her, he pulled it too far and she fell? What if she got bored of him?

Oh, Merlin. What if he forgot money and she was forced to pay for everything? None of these imaginary scenarios, however, compared to the fate that awaited the two Gryffindor students.

Harry finished getting dressed and double-ok triple-checked that he had enough money to pay for whatever he or Ginny wanted. Checking his hair one more time in the mirror, he headed down to the common room to find Ginny chatting with another girl in her year Harry knew to be called Sarafine. Ginny politely excused herself, however, when she noticed Harry coming down from the dormitories.

“Finally. You were taking a while up there and it led me to wondering which one of us is the girl here. Tell me, Potter. Was it your makeup that took you so long?” Ginny teased once she caught up to him.

“Actually,” Harry retorted. “It was figuring out what shirt to wear. I just couldn’t find the right one to match my eyes.” He accompanied this comment with an over exaggerated fluttering of his eyelashes.

The two chuckled and Harry relaxed at the light banter, enjoying how easy the two got along. Harry forgot why he was so nervous in the first place as he tentatively took Ginny’s hand and led her out of the portrait hole. He tried to steady his breathing when her hand tightened slightly in his.

Once the pair arrived at Hogsmeade, they spent some time at Honeyduke’s (where Harry insisted on buying Ginny anything she wanted) and, after Harry noticed Ginny shivering a bit, they spent some time in Gladrag’s where Harry bought Ginny a new scarf and jumper.

(He may or may not have gotten a kiss on the cheek as thanks and he may or may not have blushed at the contact)

The two walked around for a while, talking about nothing and everything with a bit of shameless flirting thrown in for good measure. At around six, Ginny suggested they go to the Three Broomsticks for a drink and a bite to eat. Once inside, Ginny went to find a booth for them while Harry went to fetch them some drinks.

On his way back to the booth Ginny had chosen, Harry was confused to see a head of messy black hair identical to his own. Dread set in Harry’s stomach as he let out a list of expletives. Ginny smiled and waved her date over as the stranger turned to greet him.

“Hey, son. Fancy meeting you here,” James Potter smirked at his son "I was just talking to this lovely lady here about how your date is going.“ Harry never regretted anything more than telling his parents about his first date with the youngest Weasley. "Wow, you didn’t have to get me a drink, Harry,” James said, taking the two butterbeer Harry had been holding and offering one to Ginny with a wink. Ginny started to giggle but quickly covered it up by taking a sip of her drink.

Harry took a seat next to Ginny while simultaneously shooting a death glare at his father that could have given the killing curse a run for its money. “Dad, what are you doing here?” he asked through gritted teeth. The young boy calmed down slightly when Ginny delicately took his hand in hers under the table.

“Well, when I heard my son was going on a date, I was so proud. But then, I realized that you have yet to fully master the ways of the Potter charm. Naturally, I felt it was my duty to help you so you don’t ruin your chances with the girl you’re so crazy about-”

“Dad, please,” Harry interrupted.

“And who you go on and on and on about. I swear all I hear about is Ginny this and Ginny that. Poor kid is completely and utterly infatuated,” James continued, ignoring his son’s protests.

“A Potter so obsessed with a red headed Gryffindor that he can’t stop talking about her? Sounds familiar, eh Prongsy?” a deep voice called out. Harry groaned and slouched in his seat at the sound of his godfather’s voice. “Sorry I’m late,” Sirius Black started. “The line for the loo was terribly long. What’s going on?”

James moved over to allow room for Sirius to sit as he filled his best friend in. “Just helping young Harry on his date here seeing as he has yet to fully master the use of the Potter charm.” At this, Ginny snorted and Harry let out what must have been his fiftieth groan in the span of two minutes. Sirius called over Madame Rosmerta and, after flirting for a bit, ordered two more drinks for Harry and himself.

Harry sat low in his seat, mortified at the story his father was telling about how to two got a bit carried away with a bottle of firewhisky on Harry’s birthday (which Lily thankfully never found out about) and how Harry went on a long spiel of all of Ginny’s best qualities, ending with a quite embarrassing poem about her freckles.

Ginny was fully immersed in the embarrassing tales being recounted to her by Harry and his godfather. “Now, I must know. Has there been any more poems since that incident?” Ginny asked, trying and failing to conceal the smirk playing at her lips.

“Sadly, no poems, my dear,” James said grimly. “But,” Sirius interrupted, “There were so many letters. All of them stating how beautiful you had gotten and how he needed our expert skills in wooing you.”

“Padfoot, those letters were for mum!” Harry cried indignantly. Sirius and James shared a knowing look before James said, “What’s mine is hers and what’s hers is mine, including mail. Plus, your mother is not an expert in the use of the Potter charm so of course I was the only one who could properly help you in wooing your lady love.”

“And I just tag along simply to embarrass you,” Sirius added.

“You know, I think you two have done more than enough to help. Mum must be so worried that you’ve been gone so long and we should really be heading back to school. Maybe you should leave. Ya know, now,” Harry mumbled.

“Alright, alright. I know when my presence is not welcomed. C'mon, James-y. Let’s leave Prongs Jr. alone with his special lady friend so they can get some quality snogging time,” Sirius sighed dramatically, causing the two young teens across from him to blush profusely.

“Right you are, Snuffles!�� James started. “But, what encounter of meeting your significant other’s parents is complete without-”

“Dad, don’t you dare!”

“Baby photos!”

Harry groaned and wished he could melt into the floor right at that moment. Ginny, on the other hand, was excited to see what pictures James had brought along and her face lit up like a Christmas tree when James pulled a stack of wizard photos from inside his cloak. He promptly laid the pictures out on the table and pointed to each picture, explaining the story behind them to a giggling Ginny, a smirking Sirius, and a mortified Harry.

“Here we have Harry’s first room ride. The kid was always destined for Quidditch. He got the athletic genes from me, of course. Oh, Harry’s first steps! Lily had just changed his diaper when Harry spotted the cat and got up to start chasing it around. Ah, here’s a personal favorite of mine! Harry’s first bath. Look at his little bum!”

“Would you look at the time! We must really be heading back to Hogwarts,” Harry said hastily. “It was great catching up with you guys. I’ll owl you. Make sure to send mum my love. C'mon Gin.” And with that, Harry grabbed her hand and made a mad dash for the front doors of the pub while trying to hid his red face that could rival that of a Weasley’s.

“It was nice to meet you Mr. Black and Mr. Potter! I’ll make sure to write you, I’d love to hear that poem sometime!” Ginny called over her shoulder before she was pulled out the door and onto the streets of Hogsmeade.

Harry ran a gab through his hair and began to ramble aimlessly. “I’m so sorry about them, Gin. Honestly, I had no idea they would be her. And bloody hell, the baby pictures. I really am sorry. Today was going so well and we were having a great time and then those two show up and ruin it because they just had to embarrass me! Next Hogsmeade weekend, I promise-”

Harry was unable to continue because Ginny, who had been fondly watching him talk, had grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pulled him down for a kiss. The green eyed boy immediately placed one hand in her hair and the other on her hip, sighing into her mouth as he forgot all about his bothersome father and godfather. Just as Harry had started to deepen the kiss, he was suddenly knocked over. As he sat on the ground, he looked around for what could have caused his sudden fall.

A few feet away from the couple, Harry noticed a shaggy, black haired dog wink at him before running off. He was just thinking of creative ways to get revenge on his godfather for interruptingpozzibly the best moment in his 16 years of life when a smug voice broke him out of his scheming thoughts.

“Wow, Potter. Only one date and you’ve already fallen for me.”

Harry smiled up at Ginny as she offered him a hand. “What can I say, Weasley. You just have that effect on me,” he smirked, taking her hand and standing up. He decided that he could forget about the Three Broomsticks incident for now.

“Now, about that poem…”

Or maybe not.

#hinny fanfic #hinny #harry potter #ginny weasley #james and sirius are bffs that ruin Harrys life and i love it #jancyshorcrux writings

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myst-knight · 7 years

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Final Fantasy Tactics Fanfic: Across the Threshold of Ivalice (Ramza/Alma, implied Rafa/Malak)

WARNING: This story is rated T for Ideologically sensitive material (forbidden sibling romance), violence, and some sexuality. For OLDER TEEN AND UP. No offense intended by the controversial content (and as always, don’t try this at home!)FF.Net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11701587/1/Across-the-Threshold-of-Ivalice

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7432064/chapters/16881884

REVIEWS APPRECIATED! :)

Orbonne Monastery, Middle Ages

The sweet smell of cloverleaf washed into the cathedral on the lazy afternoon currents hounding the area. It coasted down the stone walls and through the open doorway like a rain-drenched butterfly searching desperately for shelter. Like that same butterfly, a single flick of foliage fluttered in through the doors into a stained-glass paradise. It looped and somersaulted through a meandering path before landing beside a blond-haired boy who, too, looked like he had been searching for a place to rest.

Ramza awoke to the light hitting his face and the cloverleaf tickling his nose. He thrashed about absently on the cool, marble floor, as if snuggling under a bundle of disheveled sheets. "Alma, not now," he muttered groggily, not quite in tune with the waking world. "We'll play the reed flutes some other time."

"Alma?...Alma!" Upon hearing his own voice call the name of his beloved sister, Ramza opened up his shining eyes to the cold caress of reality. In an almost comical fashion, he flopped and groaned like a fish before managing to find his footing on the floor of the abandoned monastery. Managing an upright landing, the young lad scrambled around the building, looking desperately for some sign of the missing girl.

The memories of the horrific battle upon the fallen Airship has started trickling in. Like a bad dream, the Blood Angel Altima advanced upon young Ramza, knocking aside his comrades like bothersome blood-bugs. He could only watch as the last line of defense, made up of a near-family-like group of friends, were dealt with swiftly and harshly by the wrongly exalted menace to Ivalice. Yet, standing in front of his sister Alma, there was not room for retreat or remorse, only for battle.

And yet, that sister of his was determined to fight alongside him, even as beleaguered she was then. Looking more like a deity than Altima ever could, the girl stood her ground and poured her soul into one last protective spell, sending herself into unconsciousness with the expended energy. The memories were already becoming vague-ish, but he couldn't recall what had happened to his closest sibling and friend. Had Alma given up her much-fought-for existence to save her own rescuer?

He couldn't have it.

Practically tearing apart the quaint little citadel, Ramza went all out in his continuing search for Alma. He had fought so hard for her, and to think she would throw it away for something as simple as his own life. Already his mind was contemplating a way to return to Murond Death City and the Graveyard of Airships, ready to fight off a thousand Altimas if it meant the safety of his sister.

As it turned out, he needn't have worried.

A quiet little sigh whispered to Ramza's right, knocking him momentarily out of his frantic search. Moving away from the confession booth he had been examining, he calmed his nerves and proceeded towards the head of the cathedral. Beyond the new organ tucked away in the corner of the church was a small altar table, engraved with the writings of the fiend he had slain. Nevertheless, it brought forth from the war-born boy a sigh of relief, upon finding the figure resting upon it was alive and well.

Sprawled across the altar like a sacrifice was his sister Alma, a pretty girl perhaps one year younger than himself. Flaxen hair in a ponytail hung from the back of her head, falling behind her like the sands of time. The pink skirt she wore drooped slightly towards the floor, the garment being too long to fit onto the stone bench. And her soft face was relaxed in utter peace, her lips pursed in a calm little line that could even perhaps break out into a sort of smile.

Ramza drunk in the serene beauty of his only family, letting his gaze travel from the tips of her boots to the top of her sweet little head. For a brief moment, he felt awkward for staring at Alma so, but he brushed it off soon enough. His sister was beautiful, something no man, husband or brother, could deny. It was something that had to end, however, for the afternoon was late, and it was time to leave.

The boy was saved from the burden of waking her when Alma's eyes fluttered up on their own, revealing crystalline irises the same color as his. They blinked unsteadily for a moment, still getting used to the difference between the airships and the monastery, when they set sight upon the comforting shape before her. "Brother Ramza?" she asked, wondering if the boy was perhaps a phantom of imagination.

"I'm here, Alma," he said, unable to keep the relieved smile from his sister.

The girl seemed to be processing this information for the moment. "Ramza..." she whispered, her large eyes flickering before bursting open in a complete rush of joy and recognition. "Oh, Ramza!" Alma cried out, leaping up and embracing the boy with a surprising burst of energy. "I thought I lost you for good!"

Ramza was taken aback by her sheer affection, but quickly found it within himself to hug Alma back, bringing her to him. Her chest pressed snugly against his, and he could feel the pitter-patter of her heart bumping in her body. He let himself get washed away in the waves of love, forgetting the pain of battle he had so recently been subject to. The blood of his enemy stained his hands, yet everything was perfect once again in the arms of his sister.

The boy found himself a bit disappointed when he found Alma disengaging from their closeness, though she still held him at arm's length. He opened up his eyes to find the girl staring at him though pleading, almost-fearful eyes. "Where are the others?" she asked, her voice rigid with the tension that had built up in the seconds they broke apart. Afraid of the answer she already knew was coming.

Ramza knew he could not deny her anything that he had had, least of all the truth, as much as he wanted to. "I've not seen them since the explosion at the airship," he said softly, looking into her eyes to convey the harsh facts to her. "They're gone, Alma."

Alma actually scooted away from the boy for a moment, as if not wanting to hear such news even from a loved one. But soon, his steadfast eyes brought forth the tender meaning within, and hers were glistening with the hurt she held for her brother's loss. "Oh, Ramza," she said softly, bringing her head into the boy's chest. "I'm so sorry."

Ramza let his hand bury itself into her sandy blond hair, bringing her close to his heart like the most important keepsake. Letting himself comfort her as well as being comforted. "Now you know the sadness of war," he said with sage-like finality, feeling much older than his tender years.

Alma nodded against him, not looking up to meet his eyes. "I know."

The two sat in each other's arms across the meaningless altar, taking care of each other with tenderness only born to tragedy. It was not clear whether the situation was that of a sister comforting a saddened brother, or a wife caring for a warrior husband. Ramza at last let a single tear escape his stoic gaze, letting it fall upon the marble floor with a shattering pop. A broken tear for allies lost to war, and for friends sorely missed.

*****

The outside of Orbonne Monastery was a far cry from its interior, it must be said. While the inside of the chapel prompted strictness and reverence with its restrictive stained glass, the outside seemed to revel in the freedom and frivolity of the open sun. Every daisy planted seemed even more alive, every vine rising in triumph with the glorious day. It was a shame that the two youths there couldn't see past their difficulties and enjoy it properly.

For the Beoulve siblings were still there, even after a whole hour of preparation. And they were arguing.

"Are you crazy?!" Ramza exclaimed, driving his sister back from where she stood. "How could you even think of wanting to come along?"

"I told you before, brother," Alma repeated, managing not to cow down from the sheer force of the other's will. "I want to be by your side always, even if it means leaving my home forever."

"You can't be serious," he said more evenly, turning his back on the girl. "There are horrible dangers out there even the Lion War probably can't prepare you for."

Alma was thoroughly unshakable. "I know I'll be prepared for anything, as long as we're together," she said sincerely, though nothing but an exasperated sigh was received from Ramza.

The two had been engaged in a fierce row involving the nature of their so-called demise. With the explosion emanating from Murond Death City attracting the attention of those that had known them, both Ramza and Alma were assumed dead, giving the older Beoulve just the excuse he needed to slip out of Ivalice now and forever. But there was no reason why Alma had to come along for something as simple as moral support. She could have found some other way to remain in Ivalice, instead of making off with him like the heathen that he had made himself into.

And yet, somewhere deep within Ramza's heart, he knew that any verbal tactics he used would never be enough to convince his sister. Alma was of the indomitable Beoulve nature, the way of the warrior that unfortunately was not transferred well to Zalbag and Dycedarg. Though Zalbag had eventually found it within his heart to be a true Beoulve, that was never any question to where the girl's heart lay. It was as Father always said: nothing happens without a Beoulve.

And that included Alma.

He had to try again, though. "Alma, you always loved Ivalice," he rationalized, adding a new tact in his logic. "Do you really want to leave this beautiful land for a dead man like myself?"

At this, Alma looked away, seeming to consider this for the first time. "I...I do love Ivalice," she said quietly, looking towards the lovely monastery she had spent field trips and summers at. However, she soon lost that glimmer in her eyes, and had quickly replaced it with hard determination. "But I love you more."

Before Ramza could react any further, she took his hand within her own, cradling it like some small, lonely animal. "When I was held captive by Vormav, I made a promise to myself," she started, staring directly into his eyes with crystalline compassion. "I promised I would return to the man I loved, and stay by his side for as long as I could." Her eyes now glowing with love, and even passion, for the one that held such a close place in her heart. "It's you, brother, and I never want to leave your side. Not if you marry someone else, nor if you become the poorest soul in the land."

The faintly romantic touch in her speech was not lost on the boy, and he soon turned various different shades of red. True, it had been a long time since that time they had shared traveling from Lesalia Imperial Castle to this very monastery, but its effect were such that their relationship still had that slight change to it. After some harrowing heart-to-heart in the Zeklaus Desert, they had shared a brief, tender kiss, one that surpassed their status as sister and brother. Alma had obviously not forgotten it, and neither could he.

A cold chill enveloped Ramza's body, like the metallic twang of a holy sword. He wrapped his arms around himself, the ghosts of yesterday wandering through his head. The forbidden love Ramza and Alma were flirting with had been significant to Agrias as well, back when she was still with them. A most unfortunate incident it was, indeed.

*****

"How could you, Ramza?" the woman launched at her leader, standing up to her full height. "How could you perpetrate such an act?!"

"Agrias, that's not fair," he responded with all the courage he could muster, though even now he could feel himself weakening. "You know my relationship with Alma has nothing to do with our fight."

"And you kept it a secret from me, too!" she continued, near oblivious to the boy's defense. "Tell me, were you ever going to tell us, or were you and your sister going to run off in the middle of the night like the Death Corps?"

The Holy Knight's accusations bit Ramza's soul to the core. "I...I don't know what to say," he said hollowly, feeling more guilt than he had since the death of Teta. This got nothing more than a snort from Agrias, and she promptly turned away from him in a frustrated huff.

The two were deep within the woods, quite a ways away from the encampment that even now was plotting how to best aid their leader. Alma had just been seized by Izlude, and everyone was in frantic-mode trying to figure out a way to save her. Agrias had been looking for clues among Alma's dropped belongings when she had stumbled upon the younger girl's diary. It was then she discovered the true nature of the relationship between her and her brother.

Agrias was known to be a deeply religious person, reverently following the ways of Ajora. Traveling with Ramza was something she thought her god would approve of, but all she had experienced thus far was the steady crumbling of her faith. Demonic angels, priests gone wrong, it was a disciple's worst nightmare come true for her. And now, discovering a relationship like this was happening under her nose, it must've felt like a final slap to the face.

Ramza heard a brief sniffle emanate from her back, and could now tell she was crying. "I guess it was just a matter of time before you turned your back on the faith," Agrias said bitterly, angrily wiping the signs of her weakness away. "But how can you expect me to turn away? Protecting Ovelia, serving Ajora, my two goals in life are both gone now. What is left for me now?"

The young man growled in frustration as his own mistakes, of letting his trusted ally and friend fall to her own doubts. Gathering up his nerves, he walked over to the braided woman and placed a hand on her shoulder. "None of what I have with Alma was about deliberate sin," he said softly, squeezing her through the roughly woven mail she wore. "But I deeply apologize for hurting you."

Agrias only sobbed roughly, trying weakly to brush his hand away. Determined not to let things end like this, Ramza drew the woman into an embrace, their breastplates clanking against each other. "Please stay by my side, and trust me again," he said, hoping that it wasn't too late to reach her. "I promise we'll find something else to believe in."

Agrias was like a breaking dam, rocks crumbling off her soul into the all-consuming waters of oblivion. Then, very gradually, she began to turn in his arms, embracing the boy as she finally let her own tears fall.

*****

Ramza woke up from this brief recollection, though his eyes were still closed with remorse. Although the two had eventually made up, Agrias still carried a region of doubt for a long time, concerning her god and their love. She had eventually grown to accept their attraction and even fight for it, when confronted with the cruel monster that her deity truly was. Those words she said still haunted him, though, as she meant them with all her heart that day she had been hurt so badly.

He shook off his doubts the best he could. No matter what Agrias on anybody else said or felt, his relation with Alma was what it was. There was no way to deny the mutual attraction they felt now; to do so would only be a lie.

And perhaps it was that reason why Alma was destined to follow after him, like the love-struck girl she was.

One more time, just to make sure. "Alma, is this what you truly want?" he asked her, looking in her in the face seriously. "I'm...I'm not sure if I can give you what you need."

Alma looked slightly disappointed in the implications in his speech, but nodded nonetheless. "I'm ready, brother," she said, mustering up some enthusiasm to go with her affirmation. "No matter what happens between us, we'll be together."

Ramza looked into the watery wells of her eyes, searching for any sign of doubt. Then, finally, he turned away briskly. "Then let's get one of the Chocobos ready for your use," he said, walking over to where own trusty Chocobo, Boco, stood at the ready. "We're going to be traveling a lot before we leave."

Alma's brief excitement at winning the verbal battle had soon turned to confusion, as her brother mounted his steed. "Before we leave?" she inquired, wrinkling her nose in a girlish manner.

The Squire peered over to the Cleric, grabbing the reins of his bird tightly. "I'm going to give you one last tour of Ivalice," he said, his expression one again becoming stern. "You may not ever see it again." He yanked briskly on the reins, prompting the bird to raise his head and start walking over to the encampment. "Let's hurry up."

Alma smiled briefly at her brother's go-get-'em attitude, wondering how he never seemed to change, even after all this time. And then she was running after him, where Ramza was keeping her own Chocobo from their brief journey so long ago.

Soon, they were off on their Chocobos, towards the new path they had forged with their words and hearts. And the beautiful sight of the Monastery remained sadly unnoticed, never to be seen by them again.

*****

A fresh, summer breeze blew past Alma, rustling the fabric of her skirt around her legs. Brushing her hair out of her face, the girl's eyes roved over the Mandalia plains, catching sight of Ramza plucking a few reeds from the ground ahead of her. She looked longingly towards her brother, much like a fairytale heroine would her prince. A soft sigh escaped her lips, as she wished for something that he may never let her have.

The siblings had been completing Ramza's promise to Alma, traveling across the country for nostalgic memories of old Ivalice. Upon returning to Igros, they had skulked around town visiting the various places of their youth. A trip to the Igros Aristocratic School brought particularly strange feelings to the young girl. Though she still wore the uniform on her shoulders, she felt that she had had grown out of simple school matters, had grown out of them for a long time now.

Even if Alma could permit herself to return to her old life, she knew in her heart that she could never fit in with it anymore. The Lion War had already effected her too much to see anything in the land other than the needless pain and suffering that brought about King Delita's reign. The schoolgirls operated as if nothing had changed, but the war had made Alma into much more than a schoolgirl. Even if it taken her a long time to convince her brother of just that.

Ramza's side is where Alma belonged now.

She turned again to face her brother, and let a wry smile crawl onto her lips. Although Ramza would always claim to be the big, bad, older brother, the fact was that the boy needed someone to take care of him. As a cleric, sister, and friend, she would dress his wounds and heal her own soul at the same time. They were a perfect match: crusading siblings on the path to righteousness.

She sighed. If only she could be what Ramza truly needed...

The clomping of boots caught her attention, and Alma turned to find Ramza returning from whatever errand he had in the fields. He was carrying a pair of newly-broken reeds in his right hand...and something else in his left. As she began to peer at whatever mystery object he held in his grasp, he quickly hid it beyond view, causing the girl to giggle. Secrets, secrets.

Regaining his composure, Ramza walked over to Alma and presented her with one of the reeds. "It's been awhile since you've practiced the reed flute," he said softly, the wind rustling his hair like a wild mane. "Why don't you try it now?"

Alma relented to her brother's polite directive, taking the slender plant from his hand and trying not to blush at his handsome features. The reed was already cut in the perfect position for playing, so she brought the 'mouthpiece' to her lips and prepared. Remembering the technique their late father had taught them, she puckered up and blew into the hole. The makeshift flute rewarded her with a soft, squealing noise that carried across the Mandalia plains.

"You're off key," was the only response she got from her brother, however. Her skirt billowed out as she turned to face Ramza, who was folding his arms and looking like what he was: a stern, military commander. "Try again."

Alma stiffened up with a small ire. "Excuse me, brother," she chanted indignantly, putting her hands on her hips. "But cleric school doesn't leave me much time for practicing. Not to mention being kidnapped."

"It doesn't matter how little time you have, Alma," he responded, shaking his head in disdain. "You practice the reed flute with what time you have." He grabbed a stick, and made like an instructor pointing on a chalk board. "Wake up at dawn, practice the flute. Eat breakfast, practice the flute."

It didn't take a Goug genius mechanic to realize that he was playing with her: a simple joke that Ramza used to infuriate her with as a child. Rather than getting incensed, however, Alma simply decided to play along with him. "And how will you punish me if I refuse, dearest Ramza?" she replied with a mock haughtiness to her tone.

"With consequences," he replied simply, slipping up behind her and reaching down for the hem of her skirt. Alma suddenly felt a cool draft strike her knickers, and she realized that Ramza had lifted her skirt and was preparing to swat her on the underside.

"Yeep!" the girl squeaked, a red hot flush flowing to her face. "Get away!" Snatching back the hem from Ramza's daring hands, she held her skirt against her buttocks to prevent him from uncovering her again. The young man just laughed, and grabbed her arms in an attempt to wretch them away from that which they shielded. Soon, the two were engaged in a mock-wrestling match, giggling like schoolchildren on a break from the teacher's rule.

Ramza was just starting to make headway, due to his superior strength, when Alma surprised him by suddenly letting go of his hands. Confused, the boy stumbled ungainly for a moment, giving her the perfect opportunity to lay a shove on his chest. The boy indeed went sprawling head over heals, but not before grabbing onto Alma's sleeve and dragging her along with him. A slip and two screams later, and they both found themselves on the grass below, one on top of the other.

Alma looked down from her perch on top of the boy, straight into his pool-like eyes. The muddled waters within twinkled with uncertainty, and the girl found herself blushing for the second time that day. This time, the blush was not so much in shame as it was in desire, a resurfacing passion like a desert bloom in the spring. With fulfillment a hair away, she gulped down her own nervousness and let herself travel to Ramza for a tender kiss.

The kiss began someone cautiously, yet quickly opened up into a truly intimate affair as they drunk slowly from each other's lips. Their arms wrapped around the other in an embrace as their bodies melted against each other like candle wax on a cane. Alma found that Ramza was actually caressing her, running his rugged hands over her soft skin through the brownish shirt. All too soon, the two had to come up for air, and lips separated with a final smack.

Alma sighed in bliss, her chest heaving from the sheer emotional overload of the contact. "I love you, Ramza," she gasped passionately, her head entrenched in the boy's shoulder blade.

"And I you," Ramza said, placing his hand on her frazzled hair and running his hands through the peach-like strands.

They kissed again, and sought to explore each other's pleasures.

*****

It was turning out to be a hot night in the Mandalia Plains, the balmy weather dragging down the nightlife to a crawl. Not even the predatory monster felt like going on the hunt, preferring instead to wait out the meal another day. Of course, one was never completely safe in the wild, especially on an open field such as this. But the Beoulves always did know a few things about avoiding a battle, and all the necessary preventative wards were set into place.

Ramza rested his back against one of the large rocks that dotted the area, naked save for a pair of loose trunks. His gaze meandered back and forth across the starscape, trying to pick out the various constellations that he remembered vaguely from his school days. He looked at Alma in his arms, clad in only her brassiere and skirt, still trying to snuggle up to him in her sleep. When her knee started to cut into his thigh, he repositioned the girl in his arms, trying to get them both comfortable for the remainder of the night.

Staring at his beautiful sister, he exhaled a long breath into the muggy air around him. What on earth had changed his relationship with Alma from the strong sib-ship it was then to the unparalleled closeness they shared now? How had he forgotten the dirtiness tales of incest he heard exemplified in the Brave Story he studied as a boy? And why was it so wonderful?

A soft coo escaped from Alma's lips, as she again pressed her legs closer into Ramza. The boy stiffened for a brief moment before relaxing, once more wrapping his arms around the girl. It just happen, he supposed with a solemn smile on his face. It was now something he could not stand to be without.

Female companionship was something that Ramza had never sought, even through the hardships of war. Though all of the young ladies traveling in his ranks were considered close friends, Alma was always the one that could fulfill him, heart and soul. Taking their relationship to the next level was completion, better than having a thousand mistresses from the Igros nobility. Everything he ever needed and was denied truly rested in his arms, and all he had to do was accept it.

Ramza looked away from his sister for the moment, his gaze settling on something far beyond the stars in the sky. Finding out his feelings may have been nigh impossible, save the help of one of those young ladies he had met in his journey. Knowing what such a relationship was truly like helped him indefinitely on his path to Alma's young heart. If only she could know just how much her advice had meant to him. "Rafa..."

*****

"What's wrong, Ramza?" a soft, female voice broke through Ramza's silent contemplation, causing the boy to look at his most recent companion. "Is it your sister?"

He gave forth a short, sad smile to the other. "Yeah," he responded with a nod, though his eyes didn't quite lock onto hers.

"You'll get her back," the young woman said, correcting the boy's mistake by gazing meaningfully into his pupils. "I can sense your determination, so I know you'll make it turn out alright."

"I only hope you're right, Rafa," he sighed, staring down at the ground and tracing a jagged path in the dirt with his finger.

Ramza and Rafa were sitting together at the edge of the Fovoham Plains, watching the grasshoppers going flick-flickering by. They had already formed a close friendship in the short time they had been together, perhaps because of how much they reminded each other of their respective siblings. It still amazed Ramza how the young assassin managed to remain herself even after all the horrors she had been through. Perhaps he had taken the resilience of human nature for granted, thinking that only soldier-training could make you immune to such things.

"You love her a lot, don't you?" Rafa said softly.

Ramza felt a small twinge at the potential double-meaning coming from her words, but he ignored it. "Of course," he responded in a causal voice. "She's my little sister."

"No," the young woman reaffirmed, shaking her head and sending her hair flopping to and fro. "I mean you love her in the way a man loves a woman."

Ramza wasn't taken off guard very often, but apparently Rafa also carried Alma's gift of doing just that. "I...that is..." he stuttered, floundering about like a fish out of water. "...how did you know?" he finished up, finally managing to create the illusion of composure.

"I told you I can sense these things," she said simply, then looked down at the ground with a measure of guilty knowledge. "...and Agrias told me."

Ramza sighed weakly. He wouldn't expect the Holy Knight to be a gossip, but the slight animosity that had developed between him and her could show up in surprising ways. Perhaps she was just letting the Heaven Knight know about the details concerning the boy's loss. Though he knew such a thought was wishful thinking, he really hoped that Agrias had forgiven him about now.

Rafa caught onto his sence of discomfort, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, don't get discouraged," she said amiably, trying to comfort him through the thick armor on his shoulder. "I think it's a beautiful thing, what you and Alma have."

Ramza looked back over to the girl, peering at her through the corner of his eye. "You don't find it strange?" he asked her, becoming a bit uncertain in his actions with his sister.

"Not in these times of war," she answered him, "Sometimes, the only comfort you can find is in the arms of someone you know loves you." She looked away for a bit, biting her lip in a cute manner. "I know first-hand how it can feel, the touch of someone you love. It's wonderful."

He nearly gasped at the implication that Rafa was giving him. "You mean...you and Malak...?" he wondered, leaning away from the girl in surprise.

She nodded shyly, amazing without the slightest hint of a blush.

Ramza remained silent for a moment, slowly processing this new information the best way he knew how. "How did it happen?" he asked, once he had regained his poise.

"Malak asked if there was anything he could do to relieve me of the stench of Bariten," she stated, her voice holding a mix between old wounds and new love. "I asked him if he might make love to me instead. At the time, there was nothing more I wanted but to erase the feel of that man's dirty hands with the tender touch of someone I loved. And Malak granted me that."

Rafa raised her head to face Ramza, smiling with a happy flush on her face. "It was like all the love I felt for him had multiplied ten-fold," she told him sincerely, trying to figure out the best way to express her love for her brother. "At that moment, all the pain and fear I had suffered melted away in the heat of the night. When we awoke the next morning, the first thing I could recall was making him promise to never leave me, to stay by my side forever. And he told me he wanted that too."

She took a deep breath, fighting for the right words to tell Ramza. "I don't think one should turn away from something like that," she tried, gesticulating heavily with her hands. "Maybe it's wrong or immoral, but I know your Alma waits for you the same way I waited for my Malak. I know you won't disappoint her, Ramza." Here, Rafa gave the young man a winsome smile, the same one she no doubt gave to Malak in their closer moments. "You're much too good for something like that."

Ramza stared at the girl, the compliment bring an embarrassed smile to his face. "I think I understand," he said, letting some serenity flow into his form.

*****

And in that moment on the plains, with his beautiful sister in his arms, he truly did. He brought the girl closer to him, relishing in the feel of her soft skin against his own.

"Thank you, Rafa," he told the stars above, hoping that the gentle spirit of the Heaven Knight could hear him. Hoping that she was together with her brother in whatever world truly lay beyond his.

*****

Morning crept above the castle town of Igros, not even bothering to wake the sleepy citizens still tucked in their sheets. The dawn was somewhat clouded, as only a few rays of sunlight broke through the dark overcast hanging over the rooftops. The cobblestone streets were more on less abandoned, leaving nothing but street-lamps as a sign of life. All the better for Ramza and Alma, who were supposed to be dead anyway.

The siblings were strolling the streets together, keeping to themselves and not talking with anyone. With brisk steps, they traveled from the intersections to the alleyways, never staying in one part of the city for long. Both of them wore large cloaks over their clothing, hiding their identities to all but the most observant fellows. None of that curious sort were out at this time, though, so they were spared from having their identities exposed in some way.

Alma kept more or less kept to herself during the journey, but kept looking back towards Ramza, who stared mutely ahead at the road before him. The young man had been dragging her to various underground stores for road supplies, though he never let her actually go inside them. Funny thing was, they had already gotten all that they needed, and he remained silent still. But every time she attempted to confront him about it, she found herself stopping, feeling awkward about disturbing him.

As Alma continued to wonder what her brother was thinking, Ramza was leading them up a small hill, where a quaint little building perched at the top. They were now at the outskirts of Igros, and the mammoth mansions of the rich had been replaced by wooden cottages and dairy farms. In truth, she had never really been in this section of Igros before, having spent most of her life in the high-class section of the city. She mentally cursed herself as having wasted another opportunity to get close and intimate with her hometown.

The climb began to become aggravating, as it turned out to be not such a small hill after all. Step by step, Alma's energy was draining, her legs feeling like rusted pistons in one of Mustadio Bunanza's machines. Could there possibly be anything to gain in such a climb? "Brother Ramza, where are you taking us?" she said at last, unable to take the mystery anymore.

"A place I've often thought about during the Lion War," he responded mysteriously, staring up ahead at the nearing building.

Alma looked away and put a finger to her lips, trying to figure out what he meant. But in the time it took for her to come up with a blank, Ramza had clammed up again, so she had no more opportunity to converse with him.

The two continued in silence up the hill, which somehow grew steeper with every step. The trees were becoming slanted due to the odd angle of the soil, and a few rocks poked up every now and again. Alma bore the burden with admirable resilience however, saying nothing about the beads of sweat rushing down her temple. If there was one thing she was against, it was slowing down her brother.

The top of the hill was almost within reach, and Alma took a moment to gather her strength and wits. Letting Ramza overtake her, she breathed in a batch of fresh air, letting it chill her heaving lungs. Once she was ready, she traveled the few remaining feet to the top...where she was hit with an open-mouth shock. For a small church was standing only a few meters from where she stood, glistening with a beam of light the clouds had decided to release for the theatrics.

"Sorry about the climb," Ramza was saying, walking to her from the front of the doubled doors. "But I wanted this to be a surprise."

"Brother, what is this?" she asked, although in her heart she knew what it was about.

Ramza then blushed a bit, thought outwardly he tried to keep his dignity. "It was always your dream to be wed in Ivalice, was it not?" he asked rhetorically, managing to retain eye contact with his sister. "Before I take you away forever, I must grant you this."

Alma stood stunned at the sight of her brother, now finally ready to give her everything. Right then, she didn't know how to take it. The whole thing was on the edges of her deepest childhood fantasies, a schoolgirl dream that could never come true. Ramza and Alma, together forever.

"B-but Ramza, you've already made love to me," she stuttered, once again turning into a shy, blushing eleven-year-old. "You don't need to do anything more." Because the fact was that Alma had no idea how to take this proposal, couldn't have known how to take it whether it was the Arch Bishop of Ivalice or her darling brother.

Ramza, once again, was unreachable. "It's not the same as being married," he insisted, once again her big brother. Yet, there was a strange change in his stern demeanor, a certain shyness that only came out when dealing with his sister. Alma too was silent, the tears already starting to flow to her eyes. She did not resist when Ramza took her hands within his own, cradling them like the delicate things they were.

"I'll always be your big brother, and I know I'm a bit of a boor," he stated carefully, as Alma silently agreed with him through a glimmer of mist. "But I truly want nothing more than to take care of you, if you'll have me."

Alma smiled and nodded, making a strange noise that was between a sniffle and a giggle.

It was a full three seconds before Ramza managed a deep enough breath to get out the words. "Alma, will you marry me?" he asked steadily, staring straight into her eyes for the question.

It took the girl all of one second to come up with her answer. "Yes, I will marry you, Ramza!" she cried out, laughing as she embraced her brother.

Through her joy, Alma could feel Ramza's arms encircle her once again, the familiar snugness of his arms washing her from head to toe with love. Only this time, she could feel a slight dampness tinge her garments, and it took a moment for her to realize that he, too, was crying. "I'm glad, Alma," he was saying, burying himself in her shoulder. "Truly, I'm glad."

*****

The border of Ivalice was a strange place indeed. Where the invisible line that separated this land and next stood, there seemed to be a harsh, immediate change in the surroundings. The large oaks of Ivalice gave way to gangly, windburned trees that clawed their ways unsteadily towards the sky in an attempt to secure their lives. Only the mushrooms seemed to have an easy time surviving, for that popped up everywhere in this unusual, foreign world they found themselves in.

The newly wed Ramza and Alma Ruglia found it beautiful.

"It feels strange to be leaving Ivalice after all this time " Ramza told his wife, staring off toward the distance. "Does it you, Alma?"

"Yes," Alma responded with a smile, still fingering the ring Ramza created for her out of Mandalian roots and twine. "But I know together, we can make this new land our home."

Ramza smiled back at his sister, his love for her bursting just as Rafa said it would. Moving closer, he slipped an arm around her waist and reached down to gather her knees up. With only a small gasp from the girl, Alma was lifted into the young man's arms, her skirt swishing loudly as her legs were cradled under his hand. Soon though, she was smiling once again, and had already wrapped her slender arms around his neck, looking for all the world like the blushing bride she was.

"Shall we go, darling?" he asked her, giving her what he hoped was a dashing smile fit for a beautiful young woman like her.

Alma laughed with adoring embarrassment. "Lead the way, 'Husband' Ramza," she said enthusiastically, playing with his tuffs of golden hair between her fingers.

The two of them then look boldly off into the distance, where a new would awaited them. They glanced at each other for a brief moment, and shared a smile that only they could. Carrying his wife across the threshold of Ivalice, Ramza walked towards his new destiny, where their Chocobos and, no doubt, a world of adventure awaited them. And Alma sighed in bliss, knowing that no adventure could ever replaced the feeling she had in her husband's arms.

'Fin'

About Ramza and Agrias: The conversation that Ramza and Agrias have is used to illustrate an idea of mine. As you may know, the taboo against incest seems to be primarily a religion issue, but in Ivalice, the deity that the people worship is the evil Ajora. Wouldn't this mean that Ramza and Alma could disregard the taboo, on the grounds that the source is less than trustworthy? Ajora could have even written in the incest taboo to fulfill some ulterior motive of hers, a way of protecting herself from some problem in the future, such as a prophecy destroyer born from a sibling relationship

Of course, this brainchild of mine has no reflection whatsoever on genuine religion; its only pertinent to the false idol Ajora and the Final Fantasy Tactics world. Personally, I feel I have a lot to answer for concerning the material in this fic, but it's a story I still care about.

#final fantasy tactics #fft #final fantasy fanfic #Ramza Beoulve #Alma Beoulve

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laberintos-espinas · 4 years

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Cold Kindness (Chapters 12 and 13: Breaking Glass)

Günter Sanders was tidying up the café with Gertrude Fephr, both taking care of everything from the prior night, generally, dishes forgot about, and unwashed dishes in the kitchen. The floor was cleared spotless, both speculation since it was Saturday, Carmen would be in, however regularly she came in late on Saturday's, as Friday's were a touchy night - as often as possible - with much drinking going on Chapters Interactive Stories Diamond Hack Lager contains were presently being picked and extra pizza- - not eaten from the prior night - was being tossed into the trash jars by Gertrude. At that point out of nowhere, Gertrude got a call, it was Carmen, she was not feeling admirably, and approached Gertrude to close the spot for her tonight, she'd not have the option to make it in.

"Ja" (Sure) she told Carmen, with a voice that was more worried about her prosperity than about creation cash.

She'd [She being: Carmen] regularly compensated her for such things as this with an additional reward a couple of times each year; and if her supervisor didn't offer it to her, Adolph, she'd remove it from her own cash and offer it to Gertrude for her devotion. - For the most part, Gertrude did it for her when asked, yet it was turning into a fortnightly errand now, before it was maybe on more than one occasion in a multi month time span. She never gave Günter a reward however - and he never griped, I guess he felt fortunate to in any case be working.

The earlier night had been a social affair of old companions after the couple of clients in the guesthouse had left. Adam had appeared, and Laszlo and Koln Lindeual were there and they met Adam. When Carmen was gone, they attempted to converse with Adam about her unforeseen weakness, and not to accept it as genuine as to censure her for things she was unable to help. What's more, Gertrude was available, as she was most occasions when there was a social gathering; and Gyorogy and Bernard were available; all attempting to guarantee Adam, life would be better when she could assemble the bits of her dad's passing. Yet, Adam felt it was significantly more than that, it was something imbedded within her at an a lot more youthful age, and it, whatever it was, had not mended and was not going to recuperate.

(At present, Carmen had sharp yet at the same time some delicate forms; and smooth dim shot hair; still appealing; sort of a readiness which was perhaps to a greater degree a balance than shape. She additionally had strain in her face and body, evenness to her once pretty grin. She appeared chilled and tired more often than not.)

Adam was at the PX, charmingly conversing with his two representatives, and Frantisek, a German lady, wedded to a GI, whom made a trip to get some pop, milk, bread and tin products; sort of a preplanned stop for her. For she truly needed to converse with Adam, yet felt she should initially raise Carmen so it wasn't so self-evident, she was very pulled in to him. Carmen was popular in the network, and realized the entryway watches, realized them just as anybody I assume, and had met a few of Adam's clients. Also, truly, Frantisek knew Carmen too.

"It would appear that you will be quitting for the day?" said Frantisek with a fascinating grin, one that stated, 'I like what I see... (with expanded understudies)'.

"No, no...oo...not truly, I close up at 3:00 PM each Saturday; you just regularly come in, in the mornings, on the off chance that I review right." It was near three.

"You should and I going out when the base shuts down and all the GI's go out for preparing one month from now?" It was two times every year the entire compound would need to go to preparing up north for thirty days, and during this time a significant number of the housewives were disregarded on base and they'd top off the two clubs on base, many undermining their spouses. She was twenty-three years of age, and wedded to a Captain in his mid thirties, and very stunning, with a charming face, a face that appeared to blow smoke into yours, with a sexual greeting joined to it; and bends in the correct spots.

"Sounds like decent music, in case I'm not going with Carmen I may take you up on that, in the event that no doubt about it?" She saw Adam, grinned, and afterward kissed him on the cheek. It's what she needed to hear, if not more.

"You'll simply need to discover, won't you?" Adam took in a full breath and gestured 'yes'. He wasn't even certain on the off chance that he implied what he stated, she had asked previously, however he just reddened and left. This time for reasons unknown he didn't, he took it somewhat further.

[The Apartment] As Adam entered Carmen's loft, the kitchen was brimming with smoke, and staleness appeared to skip off the dividers. As he strolled over to the kitchen window- - for he had a key for such events when she'd not answer the entryway - ; along these lines, he pulled down the shade in the kitchen and shut the blind, bolted the entryway behind him. He tossed his coat on the floor, she was by her bed, sitting on its edge face down. He at that point killed the lights in the kitchen and primary room; a light despite everything gleamed marginally from the entryway being open in the restroom. The sky was low tonight thought Adam, and her once more, his sweetheart, was sad, despairing. Her face was in a contorted structure, as though she had a stroke, yet it wasn't a stroke, it was twisted from crying, and outrage. Tucked inside her head was that voice he knew, the voice just she knew, no one else yet her and God.

[Breaking Glass] The house appeared to be still, for both Adam and Carmen, an outright stillness- - a stone stillness. There was no development for the minute in the bed; a light crash in the lobby, alongside a splitting of the wood sounded, as though somebody was pacing. Once in a while a snicker of keys hitting against each other resounded.

Adam tilted her head back put his hand under her neck to hold it immovably set up. He calculated the proprietor was doubtlessly somewhere outside the entryway of the condo, he was a snoop. Be that as it may, at that point Carmen regularly lost her temper and would break things, thus he may had been stressed over harm to his high rise, and simply looking at things.

Ivan, he was nearly embracing the entryway now- - attempting to get a sound, yet proved unable - couldn't hear a thing. He didn't confide in Adam, yet then he was unable to make sense of Carmen's conduct of late either. He reprimanded Adam for it generally, in light of the fact that she wasn't like this eighteen months prior, when she came to live at his place, and now she was. So blameworthy or not, he got the fault.

A substantial torment went to her, and she said a few bothersome words, she attempted to make no clamor yet her head hurt once more, as though a blast had occurred. Out of not-thinking- - a programmed reaction, she went into the kitchen, found a lot of half-inch thick, drinking glasses, got consistently (there were six) and tossed them against the divider attempting to break them. They didn't break, she needed to break them severely, and attempted a subsequent time. The elderly person got terrified, ears by the loft entryway, and ran first floor, not certain what to do. At that point she tossed them once more, and over and over. Next he believed he had no way out: he returned up the stairs, "What's happening in there?" he shouted. Adam opened the entryway and there was Carmen sitting on the seat alongside the window with two of the six glasses in her grasp. She saw him, and put them down tenderly on the kitchen table. Ivan took a gander at her unusually, not exactly comprehending what to think about everything; nearly in dismay.

"I was attempting to break these glasses," said Carmen nearly in a daze, as though she didn't have a clue what she was stating. The Landlord took a gander at the glasses, "You can't break them they're made to be unbreakable. What's up with both of you?" Adam took a gander at him.

"Nothing with me Sir, it's her, I tossed nothing."

Said Carmen with a sorrowful voice: "Ich...es tut mir leid...wirklich...!" (I, I am heartbroken, really!)," Ivan looked perplexed at her, "...really I am sorry Ivan. I'll pay for the divider harms, truly I will. Simply fix it and charge me," she included.

He at that point grinned, "You getting them migraines once more?" That's what she called them when he'd ask previously.

"Yaw, it was genuine terrible this time, I was unable to think."

"All things considered, o...ok, yet Adam, you, you have to leave, let her work it off, and quit taking care of her liquor." Adam shook his head, and didn't let out the slightest peep, Ivan figured he required a reason to advise to his better half, and including him into the insane zone of conduct, well, it made Carmen not look as terrible as she seemed to be, that was tantamount to anything he assumed, why not utilize that.

Oddly enough, Carmen emerged from bed early, prepared to meet Adam for a ride with him into the Black Forest; She put on a long skirt, with nothing under it, honestly she was bare, and her bosoms were presented - to a high degree, in this way, her entire body was chilled, as she felt the cool breeze of the morning.

Adam had met her somewhere around her vehicle, at her loft. He saw she was looking a little changed today, practically indiscriminate. There was a cut in her dress as far as possible up to her upper thigh. It was practically discourteous, if not sluttish, Adam thought, however he got into the vehicle with her. He had somewhat green Volkswagen, and he loved driving in her sportier looking vehicle, so as consistently they utilized hers. As he sat in the front seat, and she drove, he continued reasoning this was going to destroy the day, that is, this new look of hers. What was it she was attempting to demonstrate, or state [?] he asked himself.

"What is it," asked Carmen, "for what reason would you say you are gazing at me to such an extent?"

"Can't make sense of you, you're looking...I mean your look: for what reason did you dress like a prostitute?"

"Like a what!" she howled, "A whore...?" She pummeled the brakes of the vehicle, headed over to the roadside - prepared to smack his face.

"You got dark red lipstick on, and this cosmetics, and your bosoms are jumping out of your pullover."

"You haven't taken me to bed like you used to, thought you'd prefer to have a prostitute today, so I dressed like one, and on the off chance that you need, we can do it directly here in the vehicle." She grinned with geeing outrage - hand open prepared to slap at the correct minute. What she was unable to state, however was speculation right now was, was turning out in her taking on the appearance of she had- - like a prostitute as he portrayed her, or so it appeared. Be that as it may, all

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