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butterflydm · 2 years

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wot reread: lord of chaos (chap 16-chap 31)

spoilers for lord of chaos

1. Rand considers telling the Maidens about Alanna forcibly-bonding him but decides against it because they would probably take things Too Far. He’s lounging on the Dragon Throne and notes that it’s actually quite uncomfortable. Rand’s titles: “My Lord Dragon. Lord of the Morning, Prince of the Dawn, True Defender of the Light, before whom the world kneels in awe.” I note a theme. Anyway, Rand is finally meeting with the four previously Morgase-loyal ladies and lords of Andor.

2. Aw, Rand remembers some of Moiraine’s advice. This bit is about making an impressive first impression. “You can step down from a throne, and even if you behave like a farmer in the pigsty, some part in each of them will remember that you did descend from a throne. But if they see only a young man first, a country man, they will resent him stepping up to his throne later, whatever his right, whatever his power”.

3. More advice from Moiraine: “Never be hostile unless you must, but above all never be overly friendly. Never be eager.” Rand also makes certain to subtly remind them of his power (and Power) and influence. The other three say that House Trakand has had its time and gone, with Morgase’s betrayal of them, and support Dyelin, but Dyelin says that she supports Elayne. The care in which Rand is attempting to balance duty and his affection for Elayne here is so sweet.

4. lol, and Rand finally tries to work out everything regarding his family, figures out the Tigraine and Damodred connection. We find out here that Galad is his brother, but the information that he has a living brother out there had zero impact on Rand and doesn’t feel any desire to seek him out, which makes me sad. He also thinks about how he’s only willing to trust three women ‘touched by the Tower’ -- Elayne, Nynaeve, and Egwene. “he hoped he could trust them. if only just a little”.

5. Sammael has sent an emissary, who brings a message in a voice not his own: “we will stand on different sides, you and I, come the day of the Great Lord’s Return, but why should we kill each other now and leave Demandred and Graendal to contest for the world over our bones?” Rand recognizes the voice as Sammael’s. He proposes a truce between him and Rand until the Day of The Return. Rand trusts this not at all. Rand turning down the offer causes the man to painfully die. “no truce with the Forsaken. No truce with the Shadow.”

6. “Wanting Aviendha and Elayne, when he knew he could have neither. You’re worse than Mat ever thought of being. Even Mat had the sense to stay away from a woman if he thought he would harm her.” Notable for being a thought about Aviendha and Elayne without Min awkwardly being jammed in at the end!

7. Rand goes to Cairhien, with the intent to talk to Egwene, and hoping that he can trust her. LOVE that Rand has Traveling rooms, places specifically set aside for him to safely go without worrying he might accidentally hurt someone. LTT is talking to Rand A LOT these days, but Rand actually does control his temper most of the time still.

8. He goes to catch up with Berelain and Rhuarc, who were left in charge of Cairhien to watch over it (mostly because he trusts them not to try to seize the Sun Throne, I assume). Rand is also way more attracted to Berelain now than he was the last time he saw her in TSR, for whatever reason. I think it’s mostly due to Jordan making everyone more horny in the later books, but there it is. We are reminded that All Women Hate Berelain, because apparently, we must. Berelain is actually a Legit Good Ruler and I want more of this Berelain, please. She’s clever and wise and honestly kinda adorable.

9. Anyway, Rand asks after Egwene’s health and is told that she is doing better. Also, Rand, a man who literally just thought about how he wanted both Elayne and Aviendha: “gosh it’s so odd that the Aiel can marry multiple women; who would ever do that?” I will flick you in the nose, young man.

10. In sadder news, Rand passes a death sentence on a man he genuinely liked, because Mangin killed a Cairhienin for the crime of getting a Dragon tattoo, and Rand said that murderers would be hanged. He firmly tells Berelain and Rhuarc that they need to follow the law themselves and not wait for him to pass sentence for crimes where the punishment has already been written out. But Rand is determined not to play favorites with the laws that he’s made.

11. Rand goes to visit the school that he has set up in Cairhien! Excited! Also, side note, Rand is now guarded by equal shares of Maidens and one of the other societies (which society shares the guarding changes). The school occupied a former palace of Barthanes a mile away from the Sun Palace. It’s less of a school and more of a research center for technological innovation and I’m so thrilled that Rand created it. <3 <3 <3 This is why Rand is Best Boy. <3 Yes, I know five minutes ago he was not Best Boy. He contains multitudes. Literally, sometimes. He’s started one in Tear already as well, and is scouting out locations in Caemlyn. Because if he breaks the world again, he doesn’t want the Fourth Age to lose all the knowledge of the Third Age, like happened when LTT broke the world.

12. Anyway, now he basically gets to enjoy a science fair that has been arranged for him personally and I am THRILLED about every moment of it. Does not last long enough, would have been willing to read several chapters of it. They’re creating better paper, a better printing press, a six-furrows plow, a horse-driven scythe, a new kind of loom, designs for new roads and viaducts to carry water for Cairhien, a rudimentary idea for a telescope, someone wants to figure out how to build airplanes and has worked out how birds glide, and something that is probably supposed to eventually be a steam engine. Rand doesn’t understand most of it but wants to encourage it all.

13. He goes to visit a man from Andor named Herid Fel, who spends most of his time in the Royal Library. Honestly, Rand’s ‘Dragon Scepter’ cracks me up every time that it gets mentioned. Cannot take it seriously. It’s literally just a random spear from Seanchan. Anyway, back to Herid. He likes Herid because Herid seems to forget he’s the Dragon Reborn. He asks Herid if he knows of any way to break the Bond between Warder and Aes Sedai, but he does not. Rand asks about his previous question, about the Last Battle. Herid makes the point that because time is a wheel, then the Dark One’s prison must be whole when it comes time for it to be broken into again, not just patched. Rand asks about the idea of breaking the seals that LTT keeps bringing up, and Herid says he thinks it’s a bad idea.

14. Over to Egwene’s PoV. She notes that there appear to be a LOT of Maidens around the Sun Palace and they are acting sneaky. Egwene also feels hurt that when she saw Aviendha come back to Cairhien, she just gave Egwene a cool nod and then immediately went into a private conference with Amys, Bair, and Melaine. “She truly did not like lying to any of the Wise Ones” *looks back on Egwene’s ENTIRE HISTORY with the Wise Ones* Um, okay, Egwene.

15. Egwene doesn’t understand and finds it annoying that the Wise Ones actually like Berelain. Proper, wetlander women all hate Berelain, after all. Anyway, good for the Wise Ones. “they treated her as a woman of sense and respect” because she deserves it. They care more about her actions as a ruler than they do about the clothes that she wears, Egwene. Aw, Amys and Sorilea “smile on [Berelain] like a favorite daughter”. This is the Berelain dynamic that I enjoy: Berelain and the Aiel. note: “Aiel men and women shared the same sweat tents” - I think we only get to see Wise Ones sweat tent scenes, but they are canonically not restricted in general.

16. Egwene gets to wait for Rand in his room. I hope he actually gets a head’s up from someone before he walks in on her. The gai’shain dealing with Rand’s bedchamber in Cairhien is Niella, Aviendha’s first-sister. Hmm, she was also dealing with his bedchamber the last time it was mentioned. I wonder if that was a purposeful assignment all along. She is about six or seven years older than Aviendha and is halfway through her time as gai’shain. Egwene still has zero clue that there is any romance between Rand and Aviendha, let alone that they had sex.

17. Egwene tries to use her connection with Elayne as a way to bribe Rand into helping her with the Wise Ones. She asks that he convince Amys to let her return to lessons. He asks her if she will tell him where Elayne is. She tells him that it’s not her secret to tell. He asks her again, lets her know that he needs Elayne to take the Lion Throne and Sun Throne both. Egwene embraces saidar in order to resist the urge to tell him (and, of course, he can sense that she embraced saidar and assumes this means that she’s afraid that he’ll hurt her).

18. “Rand, I am sorry I can’t help you, but I cannot. Even so, I ask you again to help me, You know it would be helping yourself.” Rand responds with a quip about ‘a cat for a hat, or a hat for a cat’ and Egwene knows the rest of the phrase is ‘but nothing for nothing’. Basically, if she isn’t willing to give him anything that he wants, he isn’t willing to give her what she wants. She does think that she wants to tell Elayne about how Rand had sounded when he said that he needed her. “No man could say he needed you that way unless he loved you.”

19. This is so sad but honestly a very believable misunderstanding, again because it is about two people’s PoVs clashing and doesn’t get boiled down to Women And Men Just Can’t Understand Each Other. It’s very specifically about RAND and EGWENE not understanding each other. She thinks that keeping secrets from him is the best way to help him and he views keeping secrets from him as proof that she is fully Aes Sedai and not at all on his side. “Whatever clothes she wore, she wanted to be Aes Sedai, and she would keep Aes Sedai secrets even after he made it clear that he needed Elayne to insure peace in two nations. He had to think of her as Aes Sedai. It was saddening.”

20. Ah, the Maidens are trying to Be Subtle about keeping a constant guard on Rand. I love them so much in these moments.

21. Rand is dreaming LTT’s dreams -- the fall of the Age of Legends and the moment when Ilyena realized that he was going to kill her. Not a pleasant night of sleep! It’s the first time that he can remember dreaming LTT’s dreams instead of his own, which definitely disturbs him! It scares him so much that he doesn’t dare go back to sleep, clutching saidin close to him all night. He notes that Aviendha didn’t spent tonight sleeping in his room like she normally insists on doing. (hmm, she didn’t really acknowledge Egwene either last chapter; what’s going on with Aviendha?) He also doesn’t eat. So, you know, no food and almost no sleep is absolutely going to have a negative affect on your mental state even before any trauma or external ‘taint’ from the literal Dark One is brought into the picture.

22. Again, Rand randomly thinks about how hot Berelain is. ??? He was not like this about her in TSR. Also, we have absolutely now reached the point in the books in which I am not going to be able to remember any of these random nobles that Rand is dealing with. Too names and brief descriptions for me to try to hold in my head, sorry! Rand is surprised that “even the men” are looking at Berelain with “more than lechery”. Seriously, where is this coming from? Also, she runs the country for you, Rand. Of course the lords and ladies are taking her seriously?? They literally have to, since lords and ladies can now be charged for the same crimes that previously only ‘peasants’ could be held accountable for.

23. Rand really is getting very paranoid -- he assumes that Melanie (who is still relatively newly wed to Bael) is eager to see Bael in order to counterbalance Rand’s influence on Bael rather than because she, you know, wants to see her husband. In... more paranoia news? Even though Rand is definitely getting more and more suspicious, he’s also doing things like lowering the number of guards he has and allowing people he doesn’t trust to do things in his name (Taim). Which seems... ah, concerning? Rand, you aren’t you when you’re hungry. Please eat something at some point in this PoV. I’m worried about you. He also still desperately wishes he could get Alanna (and now that he’s closer, he knows that she’s been weeping while he was gone) out of his head.

24. We also get the note from Mat that he isn’t sure if multiple spouses is a dream or a nightmare (via Rand remembering it). Seriously, with all the Opinions that Mat had about polyamory, it really is a shame he didn’t have to deal with it in the narrative on a personal level.

25. Wow, Aviendha does a major Aes Sedai Lie to Rand here. He asks her if Amys and the others told her where Elayne is; Aviendha says that the Wise Ones do not know. But Aviendha DOES know; Egwene told her about Salidar at the end of TFoH. Big Aes Sedai Lie/evasion of the truth going on. Egwene did make her promise not to tell, so I’m not holding it against her. Just... noting it.

26. Aviendha DOES tell him about the dreams that the Wise Ones have had about him: him on a boat, with three women (unknown who) and a scale tilting in either direction. A man standing by his side with a dagger to his throat but he does not see. Him cutting the wetlands in two with a sword. Rand thinks he understands the last two but I, as a rereader, know that he is wrong about his interpretations. *sigh* The Wise Ones also dreamed about the Bowl of the Winds. “The key to finding the bowl is to find the one who is no longer”.

27. AVIENDHA POV! It’s happening! Ah, she feels shame because Lanfear knew about her sleeping with Rand, which magnifies her toh towards Elayne for doing it at all. Even being around Rand is a constant torment of shame. “I have toh” is the first set of handtalk that any Maiden learns. She thinks that killing Rand would meet one of her toh and killing herself the other, but to do either would prevent her from meeting the other one. Short PoV but fascinating. Putting your “soul in a wreath for a man” is the one of the greatest insults among the Maidens.

28. Three Ogier have come to the palace to speak with Rand. Loial’s mom (with one of the elders and with the Ogier woman that Loial thought was pretty back in Stedding Tsofu) have come to demand that Loial be handed over so that he can be ‘properly married’ off to Erith. Rand doesn’t want to tell them where Loial is at first, as Loial wanted to adventure and not get tied down in a marriage, but then he’s reminded that Ogier feel the Longing and die if they are away from the Stedding too long, so he tells them that Loial is in the Two Rivers. Rand asks them to tell him where all the Waygates are located so that they may be guarded, as Shadowspawn are using them to move quickly across the continent. Of particular interest to Rand is finding out there’s a Waygate in Shadar Logoth.

29. Rand heads to Shadar Logoth with the Ogier and his Aiel guards -- and Sulin, in order to round up the Maidens quickly, uses handtalk to make three gai’shain use haste, which definitely incurred her toh, which she states she will deal with after Rand is safe for today. Rand has a full two-way conversation with LTT about how Shadar Logoth scares both of them. LTT says he wants to kill Damendred; that he remembers killing Ishamael; that Lanfear did deserve her death but that he’s glad he’s not the one who did it, and that he himself deserves death but he doesn’t want to die in Shadar Logoth.

30. Rand thinks: “Here Mat had begun a road that took him to the Horn of Valere, that almost killed him on the way, maybe the road that had taken him to Rhuidean and the ter’angreal that he did not want to talk about. Here Perrin had disappeared when they were all forced to flee in the night, and when Rand finally saw him again, far from here, he had golden eyes and a sad look and secrets that Moiraine had never shared with Rand.” And he thinks about Fain’s connection to this place, Fain who wants Rand dead and who threatened the Two Rivers.

31. Rand weaves a trap around the Waygate using saidin, a nasty trap and inverts the weave so that even male Forsaken will not be able to sense the trap. Then he notices that someone is missing (it is Liah). The ward will kill Shadowspawn but humans can pass through untouched. Rand notes that his anger sometimes feels like it might be able to overpower the Void. As night comes close to falling, they have to give up the search for Liah. Despite Rand not realizing how upset he is over Liah being missing, the Ogier and Maidens are essentially treating him like he’s made of glass right now. tbh, I think a lot of this stuff would work for me if it were Maiden-specific, about being this connection to the mother that he never knew, rather than being Protect The Womens.

32. Rand drops the Ogier off far enough away from Emond’s Field that he doesn’t think news of him should reach anyone there. As he’s about to leave, Elder Haman tells him not to kill himself, which is so blunt that Rand is completely startled; despite dispassionately having noted in his narrative that he self-injured when he realized he was choosing to leave Liah behind. Rand stares off for a while in the direction of the farm in the Westwood where he grew up, then opens a Gateway back to Caemlyn. Oof, though, too real. Self-injury was something that I struggled with around that same age as well.

33. We are back to Mat! Rand has been going through So Much Plot while Mat has been slowly doing his showy march to distract Sammael. Also, Rand never had anything to eat during his PoV. I am immediately teased by Warder!Mat false foreshadowing. See, when this sort of thing happened before Rand was bonded, then it could see like misdirection about which ta’veren was going to be bonded, but it’s still happening! Talmanes (who has been very perceptive about Mat in the past) asks Mat if he’s ever thought of what it might be like to be a Warder. Out of the blue! An entire page of prose happens before Mat gets around to denying that he’s ever considered the idea.

34. Mat is juggling colored stones, which makes him think of Thom. He wonders if Thom is still alive but regretfully decides that he’s probably not. Mat still thinks that Elayne is frustratingly pretty, with a dimple that makes everyone want to fall down to obey her. I think that’s a you-thing, Mat. He hopes that Nynaeve and Elayne have missed him (in a round-about and vaguely insulting way).

35. It’s been eleven days since leaving Maerone and they are halfway to Tear. Mat thinks that he’s not looking forward to taking over from Weiramon... and yet he’s also basically trying to figure out what the fastest they can go is. So, he absolutely is in a hurry and does want to take over. Oh, interesting; they are using the river to help them keep their supply lines intact. Clever!

36. Mat’s collection: five colored stones, an eagle feather, a weathered piece of snow-white stone that looked like it had been carved with scrolls once.

37. There are a lot of Aes Sedai over on the other side of the river Erien, and Mat is glad to have his medallion. The news about the White Tower setting up Logain as a false Dragon has reached this far now. Mat also notes that Warders don’t seem to sweat. We learn that Mat uses former horse thieves & poachers as his scouts, as it is a similar skill set.

38. One of his scouts shows him some destroyed and bloody Tuatha'an wagons, with “Tell the Dragon Reborn” written on one of the wagon beds with blood. I’ll try to remember that and see if Mat remembers to tell Rand about it. Whoever destroyed the wagons also killed all the people and made sure to let no one escape. Finding all those dead bodies, of people who wouldn’t even have defended themselves, puts all of the Band in a solemn mood for the evening, and makes Mat think about “older memories of older dead. Too many battles, and too many dead.”

39. It’s so easy for Mat to define himself as “Rand al’Thor’s friend” in his internal narration now. It’s just part of Who Mat Cauthon Is (again). We also learn that when he was younger (back home), he would sleep outside and put himself to sleep by naming the constellations. Memories note: “in some of his memories he did not like Artur Paendrag Tanreall at all”. Mat’s luck has led him to escape an assassination attempt by his impulsive choice to sleep outside. He realizes that the Aiel were brought here by a Gateway (which implies Forsaken involvement) and he curses that he’s important enough to be hunted by the Forsaken.

40. And, I notice, that when he’s speaking neutrally or fondly (in his way of speaking fondly lol) about Rand, then it’s “Rand” or “Rand al’Thor” but when he’s mad about something related to Rand, then it’s “the Dragon (bloody) Reborn” lol. That tracks.

41. Mat discovers that Olver has been traveling with the Band all this time and makes him his official messenger/errand boy. Olver also collects stones and feathers, like Mat does, we learn.

42. Graendal visits Sammael, who has some small items from the Age of Legends that he says he found in a stasis box. An ‘exchanger’ (AC unit), glowbulbs (lightbulbs), a music box, and pieces of art. And a Zara board, which means that the stasis box was left by a Darkfriend, as the playing pieces of the game were people once. Sammael manages to convince Graendal that he did successfully make a truce with Rand, and he gets Mesaana’s location out of her: the White Tower.

43. Egwene noticing pretty women and handsome men. Bi!Egwene rights. Anyway, I’m guessing part of the reason that Egwene wasn’t allowed ‘legally’ back into TAR for so long is because sneaking into TAR kept hurting the part of her brain that allows her to access TAR, so her healing process took much longer than it should have (the Wise Ones were puzzled that it took so long for her to heal and her headaches to fade). But she’s finally well enough that she’ll be able to attend not the next meeting (in three nights) but the one after that. But, yeah, bet she would have been able to go back officially a lot sooner if she’d actually let her brain rest and heal properly. She’s as bad as Rand when it comes to these things, imo. Neither of them are willing to take proper care of themselves. Both Rand and Egwene are driven on by the certainty that there is never enough time to do/learn everything that they need. Both of them are constantly hearing the ticking of the clock.

44. Wow, this thought about Berelain is such an asshole thought; re: Mangin being hanged and Egwene not feeling like Berelain showed enough emotion over it: “that one was only interested in men who were alive”. Wow, Egwene. Wow. Berelain deserves better than how wetlander women treat her. I want her to marry into the Aiel. They treat her well and she thrives around them.

45. Egwene caring so much about ‘healing’ the Tower is kinda astonishing for how little actual time she’s spent there. She did think of it as ‘home’ when she last returned to it, but then almost immediately left again. I think it’s really more the idea of the Tower that she loves than the actual place, tbh. Her lofty thoughts about it rarely match the more solidly political reality of what life like there was actually like for the Sisters. Though it feels like that’s the case for most Aes Sedai. They talk about how much the Tower means to them but the actual REALITY of the Tower as we saw it as readers is absolutely not the same as the place they talk about lol.

46. Egwene also has a fit of paranoia (about potential Tower spies) that is intense enough to match any of Rand’s. So similar, I tell you. She eventually is able to calm herself by reminding herself that any of the people around look at her and only see an Aiel woman. She also spots Elaida’s embassy to Rand entering the city and follows it for a while. It has been “over two months” since Rand first received the letter from Elaida (which happened the night before Moiraine faced Lanfear at the docks).

47. It’s so amusing to me (but also kinda sad) that Egwene is only just now figuring out that Rand has rediscovered “the Talent called Traveling”. I don’t think she’s seen him Skim either, since she missed the fight with Rahvin? It really shows how separated Egwene and Rand are despite having traveled so long together with the Aiel and despite Egwene living in Cairhien (because she doesn’t live in the city itself but in the Wise Ones’ camps outside the city). Rand has rooms set aside for him to Travel into! Mat has had Rand Travel into his room in the middle of the night just basically to talk at him for a couple of hours! And Egwene is only just now going... yeah, I think Rand can Travel maybe. They’ve grown so far apart emotionally.

48. Berelain rode out to the Wise Ones tents to have tea with Amys, Bair, and Sorilea! <3 Baby! <3 Let Sorilea matchmake for you, honey. She would have better taste in men for you than you would have for yourself. You might still end up with a married man, but it would be one with a wife who enjoyed having you around. Aw, Berelain says that Rhuarc reminds her of her (I assume deceased) father. And then Amys kisses Berelain on the forehead and on each cheek, the way an Aiel mother would kiss her child. They have adopted her! <3 <3 It’s amazing how well Berelain comes off here even with Egwene’s ridiculously hostile PoV of her. Aww, Sorilea does want to matchmake for Berelain, though she thinks she has to try to find a wetlander husband for her.

49. It’s so weird to be that absolutely no Wise Ones can do Healing at all. Just... odd. Also, interesting backstory adjustment, rather than having just been asked to potentially be Nynaeve’s apprentice, now Egwene actually did study under her for a while back in the Two Rivers.

50. It is so interesting the different ways that Egwene DOES adapt to living among the Aiel (holding other people to the ideals of ji’e’toh, thinking of things in terms of shame) and the ways that she does not (mostly related to the prudishness of Two Rivers people and the bed of lies in which she sleeps each night).

51. Elaida’s embassy isn’t staying in the palace but in the house of a noble Lady named Arilyn. They have six official Aes Sedai with the embassy and five hundred soldiers (though most of the soldiers stayed outside the city). And the women inside are constantly channeling. Oooh, I was trying to remember why Aviendha had toh towards Rand -- it’s because she lied to him and told him that she hated him. Thanks for reminding me that lying brings toh, Egwene. She’s trying to mentally tell herself that in her case, her lying has been necessary.

52. It’s so funny that after a few meetings with the Salidar Aes Sedai in TAR, the Wise Ones are so much less impressed with the Aes Sedai as a whole. Egwene notices that during all the planning that the Wise Ones are doing about how to potentially protect Rand from Elaida’s embassy, they never bring up the whole thing about how “the Aiel failed the Aes Sedai once and would be destroyed if they did again”. You know, it actually occurs to me that if there is an element of prophecy in this, it might actually be referring to THE Aes Sedai aka the ones they actually used to serve aka Aes Sedai from the Age of Legends aka Lews Therin aka Rand. Because the Aiel’s survival is so closely tied to Rand’s survival.

53. Cracks me up that Egwene is super into Gawn’s red-gold curls. Considering what she almost had once upon a time and decided she just felt brotherly about. Anyway, Egwene and Gawyn see each other in person for the first time since the last time she was in the White Tower. So... The Dragon Reborn, I think it was? She learns that he commands the ‘guard of honor’ that the Aes Sedai have brought to ‘escort’ Rand and he learns that she is not in Illian. I think it was Siuan who told him that lie?

54. Gawyn tells her that he believes that Rand killed Morgase and she protests that he did not. Gawyn asks for proof and says that Rand probably killed Elayne too. Egwene tells him that Elayne is not harmed. She doesn’t tell him that Rand killed the guy that they actually DO believe killed his mom or that she was literally in the room when Rand found out that Morgase was (believed to be) dead. Potentially due to be distracted by running her hands through his hair. She makes him promise not to “raise a hand against Rand” until she can prove that Rand didn’t kill Morgase. Egwene, he is gonna take that WAY too literally.

55. She tells him she loves him. The last time she saw him, she liked his brother more than she liked him, but now she definitely knows that she loves him. They haven’t ever even flirted with each other, iirc, because Gawyn knew that Galad liked her, so he pre-emptively stepped aside. They have their first kiss. Good for them, I guess? lol. There’s so little substance to this romance that I can’t really take it too seriously. “I will give over everything, betray everything, for you.“ Sheesh, Gawyn, slow it down a little? You honestly barely know each other. Take a breath before you declare yourself willing to forswear yourself for her. He wants her to run away from her duties and the Last Battle and being Aes Sedai so that they can live on a little estate in the country together. Egwene says that she would love that but she can’t, but it’s literally nothing that she has ever expressed wanting so (x) doubt.

56. In brief PoV snippets, we learn that two of the Aes Sedai from Elaida’s embassy are working on tugging at the ambitions of Lady Colavaere (Cairhienin) and High Lord Meilan (Tairen). Then we go back to the main palace they’re staying at and they are trying to figure out the best approach to take to Berelain, who they suspect will be difficult. They are also troubled by rumors that al’Thor has a Green sister with him in Cairhien. They had believed that Siuan and Moiraine (both Blues) had worked alone. They also wonder whether or not Moiraine truly is dead.

57. Rand is close enough to Alanna that he can tell that she had bruised her heel that morning and scraped her hand and is currently in a temper. That IS precise. Rand also realizes that he hasn’t seen Sulin in eight days (since he returned from Shadar Logoth). There is a Whitecloak assassination attempt on Rand that kills 7 people total (one of the Maidens dies shielding Rand from an arrow). We get to hear some of Rand’s List Of Dead Ladies. Rand is relieved that the person he thought might be a second dead Maiden is just a short Aiel man instead. *sigh*

58. lol, oh, this is the conversation where Rand tries his best to figure out if he and Elayne are related and is relieved to realize that IF THEY WERE FARMERS they wouldn’t be considered related at all. lol. Gotta love a man with priorities. He’s hilariously relaxed after realizing this and doesn’t even consciously understand why. Amazing. See, this is hilarious, but it is also very in character and no one is TRYING to be funny. Rand heads off to Cairhien, still trying to avoid Aviendha at all costs.

59. Tonight, the Wise Ones are going to meet the Salidar Aes Sedai alone; in seven days, Egwene will get to be with them when they meet with the Aes Sedai. But Egwene is distracted from thinking about this or about Gawyn when she learns that Rand is back in Cairhien and plans to meet with Elaida’s embassy.

60. Egwene is picking up the Aiel prejudices (judging servants for doing their jobs) without letting go of her own that the Aiel don’t share (her hard-core disdain for Berelain). That’s... less than ideal, lol. Anyway, she’s gone to the Sun Palace to talk to Rand.

61. For all that she’s picking up some Aiel ways, Egwene still doesn’t understand how the Maidens feel about Rand and thinks that Somara talking about him “with the sort of exasperated pride a mother might have for an overadventurous son of about ten” is an Aiel joke of some kind. Though that may be because it’s a Maiden thing and not an Aiel thing, and Egwene is definitely not Far Dareis Mai.

62. As always, Egwene gets incredibly indignant when Rand teases her back after she teases him first. She warns him about not trusting Elaida’s embassy. She notices him talking to himself but doesn’t realize he’s talking to LTT. She tries to use reverse psychology on him to get him to offend Elaida’s embassy and is horrified when he says he’ll take her advice. Eesh, Egwene really is All In on the Aes Sedai: “Even if they followed Elaida, the idea of anyone showing impertinence to any Aes Sedai really did upset her.”

63. Ah, Egwene notices Rand responding to someone who isn’t there and is caught between worrying about him going mad and worrying about the Tower Aes Sedai catching her here. Rand hides Egwene next to the dais that his chair was on and wards her not to be seen, as the Tower Aes Sedai come in. Egwene is incredibly nervous having saidin so close to her. Egwene and Rand do also talk about Traveling here, but the way that Rand describes how he Travels (creating a hole in the Pattern) doesn’t feel right to Egwene.

64. Rand is casually arrogant with the Tower Aes Sedai and tells them that he “looks forward to the day [he] stand[s] in the White Tower” but until he’s ready to go, he rejects their offer of an advisor and tells them not to come within a mile of him or the Sun Palace. When he abruptly asks after Alviarin, Galina tells him that she is well before she can stop herself, which Rand figures marks her out as one of Alviarin’s friends.

65. One of the Sisters (Nesune) noticed feeling a woman who could channel hidden in the room with them. Galina assumes that it was Moiraine and that she faked her death, but Coiren says they can’t make that assumption. Nesune wants to write a research paper on Rand.

66. Rand hasn’t heard LTT’s voice in his head all day and it’s making him jumpy because he’s sure that LTT is there. He keeps bugging Rhuarc and Berelain over things that are either already settled or that they can’t do anything about and his temper is very difficult to keep a handle on.

67. Oh, this is a good insight that I don’t think we actually see change his behavior at all lol: “Rand al’Thor had run away from Elayne, from his fear of loving Elayne, just as he had run from his fear of loving Aviendha.” He decides “no more running” so we’ll, uh, see how that goes.

68. The Sea Folk are have been desperately trying to get Rand to see them this entire book and he keeps avoiding them. He never really gives a reason; they’re just really low on his priority list for whatever reason, despite ships actually being kinda a useful thing. Basically, whenever Jordan isn’t ready for Rand to deal with a plot thing yet, he just avoids it and buries it under all the other stuff he needs to do. Ah, we get a bit of an explanation later: since the Sea Folk aren’t mentioned in any of the Prophecies that he can think of, he bumps them down on the priority list.

69. Aviendha, pissed off that Rand keeps leaving without her, makes his guards promise to tell her where he is going and when; they promise and when Rand protests, they say that they already made a promise and can’t change it. I have to admit, this makes me wary because it seems like the sort of thing that would make Rand... go places without telling his guards first?

70. Rand is horrified to realize that that woman offering him a letter on a tray is... Sulin, dressed as a servant (not even gai’shain but a wetlander servant). After a few moments, he connects it to her toh over reminding those three gai’shain that they were Maidens. He is learning a lot about Aiel culture! Though he is still very capable of asking questions that make Aviendha want to die of shame from how little he knows. Because when he asks questions that feel very silly to them, it shows that Aviendha hasn’t been as good a teacher as she’s supposed to be.

71. Another assassination attempt, this time by a Gray Man. It’s possible these attacks against Randa and the one against Mat were all sent by Sammael, considering he’s the big target that Rand is obviously gunning for, but it might be one of the others, since Sammael had recently tried to convince them that he’s made a truce with Rand. Taim kills the Gray Man before Rand can attempt to question him, which makes Rand feel another swell of anger towards him and LTT really wants to kill Taim.

72. Despite him thinking earlier that he was going to stop running; when Aviendha lectures him over ji’e’toh and he notices that he’s mostly just enjoying staring into her eyes, “bit by bit he chased down the pleasure her eyes gave him and crushed it until only a dull ache remained”. Still sounds like running to me, just mentally instead of physically.

73. Oh! I had absolutely not realized that it is actually CANON that Fain influenced Elaida against Rand, but here it is. “Unlikely Niall would have ever supported al’Thor any more than Elaida would have, but it was best not to take too much for granted with Rand bloody al’Thor. Well, [Fain] had brushed them both with what he carried from Aridhol; they might possibly trust their own mothers, but never al’Thor now.” Oh, wow, yeah. So Elaida’s paranoia and egotism and etc. that she shows in increasing amounts is the poison of Shadar Logoth’s influence on her. She was never a great person, but she was capable of reason, once upon a time. Oh, wow, I’d forgotten this was canon instead of fan speculation, lol. Anyway, Fain is obsessed now with HIM being the reason that Rand dies and not letting it happen by any other hand. Ah, Fain was behind the attack by the Whitecloaks earlier. That makes sense.

74. Thom and Juilin have returned from their scouting (I think they were investigating the Whitecloaks). Apparently, the Whitecloaks have mostly been pulled back and gathered up. He passes along the rumor that Morgase is in the Fortress of Light but Elayne dismisses it and says her mother would never go to the Whitecloaks.

75. Nynaeve does the Plot Thing that they were stuck in Salidar so long before they could accomplish it and move on to their next location: she Heals Logain of being gentled (mostly because she’s distracted thinking of something else while she examines him with the Power, so she bridges the cut in him without thinking about it). Seriously, the gender essentialism is so strong/bad in WoT that Nynaeve literally thinks that men and women are as ‘different in the flesh’ as rocks and fish. Ridiculous.

76. Ugh, Nynaeve is actually thinking about how they could SHARE INFORMATION with Rand and I am just LONGING to this to happen. She actually wants to tell him things! So that he can avoid the mistakes that ignorance of events can bring! And yet we must continue to starve Rand of information in the narrative. Nynaeve and Elayne are the two ‘Tower-touched women’ who genuinely want to help Rand and so The Plot must keep them away from Rand as much as possible. I’m also thinking of how Egwene essentially used Elayne and Nynaeve as her excuse not to tell Rand things (”It’s not my secret”) but... Elayne and Nynaeve are FINE with Rand knowing things, in general? They actively want to tell him things? Nynaeve seems aware that Rand having more knowledge could actually be a BETTER THING than keeping him in the dark (Egwene is a big fan of trying to help Rand by keeping him in the dark as much as possible and only letting him know things as she decides, in order to influence his choices. Which he hates. Egwene learned the WRONG LESSON from Moiraine, imo).

77. Nynaeve is absolutely terrified of Logain, even though he quite reasonably points out how foolish he would be to attack a whole village of Aes Sedai from the center of it. lol, when the Aes Sedai arrive, Logain pretends that he doesn’t know anything about being Healed, as poor Nynaeve is berated for telling fibs to get attention. Aes Sedai really do treat Accepted like children. Sheriam and Myrelle hustle Nynaeve off and reveal that they DO believe that she may have really healed Logain and they want her to repeat it with Siuan and Leane. When Nynaeve reveals that part of the secret is that she uses all five types of flows to Heal, not just Water, Spirit, and Air, there are protests from the Yellows and then the reluctant admission that maybe Nynaeve’s way works.

78. One of the Aes Sedai says this means that they will need to gentle Logain but Carlinya (ha! Don’t think I’ve forgotten you and your raven tattoo/drawing viewing) points out that it might make negotiating with Rand a lot more difficult if they are gentling men while he is sending out an amnesty and gathering men who can channel to him. It would make any difference between them and Elaida not seem so different to Rand’s eyes. And now escape seems impossible, as every Yellow wants to study and talk to Nynaeve.

79. The fact that the Aes Sedai essentially stopped viewing Siuan and Leane as people while they were stilled and are now all “warm welcome[s] as if she had been away for years” is... yeah, that’s unpleasant. But Siuan is brainwashed enough into the Aes Sedai way that she completely understands it: “she held nothing against any of these women, not their cold distance before, not their insistence that she remember her place. The line between Aes Sedai and not Aes Sedai was clear”. But she is frightened and taken aback when she realizes that she’s much much weaker than she was before. Which... okay, if this were a one-off thing, then it could be worldbuilding, but there’s another (completely different) excuse later on in the books to depower a strong channeler to make her a suitable love interest for a non-channeling man and so this feels... not great to me here. Also, ugh, we learn here in a side note that Gareth has been hitting Siuan when he feels she’s been ‘childish’. Jordan was a big big fan of spanking (and, especially, of women being spanked). Anyway, apparently washing Gareth’s laundry and the occasional spanking has made her fall in love with him.

80. Elayne says she regrets them not “putting on disguises like Moghedien and walking past everybody” and Nynaeve is so mad at herself for never even considering that as an escape route. See, Elayne thinks here that they could “maybe even pass word along to Rand through Egwene” but that wouldn’t have worked because EGWENE NEVER TELLS RAND ANYTHING; she views keeping secrets from him as the best way of helping him! *sigh* Elayne’s intentions are good but none of the things that she, personally, tries to get out of them staying in Salidar actually happen.

81. Elayne thinks about how the power-based hierarchy of the White Tower makes sense. It does not, Elayne. It is nonsense, Elayne. I love you but you are wrong about this. The idea that sheer power is what matters most is a bully’s game. “Everything goes into it. Who learned the fastest, who spent the least time as novice and Accepted.” So the LEAST experienced you are, the MORE immediate power is handed to you once you attain the shawl. What a terrible system, where studying for years actually means that you’ll be much less likely to ever actually be in charge of something useful. A Darkfriend/Black Ajah Sister created this system. I feel it in my bones.

82. Elayne feels a pang of regret over not going to Rand when they had the chance when she hears that he’s met with Elaida’s embassy. Same, girl, same.

83. We learn that Delana (one of the Aes Sedai in Salidar) is a Darkfriend, who is now following orders from ‘Halima’ aka Asan’gar aka resurrected Forsaken aka we should all be glad this character is already cut from the show.

84. Valda really is one of those PoVs where I feel kinda dirty after reading it. He’s such a horrible person and he’s so convinced that he’s Actually The Best Person. Not an ounce of compassion or mercy in him at all, only judgement and self-righteousness.

85. Morgase is still being SO stubborn and so strong. She is fighting so hard. She finally gives up the fight in this chapter, due to a complete coincidence (well, not complete, as escaping with two Darkfriends would... also have been bad. Honestly, Morgase genuinely has ZERO good options here).

86. Another confirmation from Niall’s spy that the Seanchan hold Tanchico (though he still doesn’t believe it). But he feels like he should pay attention to it anyway, even though he feels like the man must be writing nonsense, so he asks for a courtier so he can send a message (which would take twenty days to reach Tanchico under normal conditions and a fast set of horses).

#wot #wheel of time #wot reread #lord of chaos #wot book spoilers #wot spoilers #i'm going to make these longer but less frequent #because it seems like they're disappearing from the tags #and my current theory is that my posts are too... frequent?#so testing that out #but this is so long tho

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sunbentsky-archived · 4 years

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TAG DROP II: SASKIA

#SASKIA IC: the dragon of vergen #SASKIA ASKS: now you know my greatest secret #SASKIA ABOUT: with a spine of steel and a roar like thunder #SASKIA DESIRES: when she loved she loved with chaos #SASKIA NSFW: blessed are the ones who have been taken by her wild #SASKIA WORDS: someone like me needs a legend #SASKIA AESTHETIC: awaken and arise or be forever fallen #SASKIA VISAGE: of the strangest beauty and the darkest courage #SASKIA PLAYLIST: the dragon’s heart #SASKIA MANNERISM: i kneel before no one #SASKIA DASH COMMENTARY #SASKIA WISHLIST #SASKIA DASH MEMES #SASKIA SHITPOSTING: new boot goofin’#SASKIA STARTER CALL: come get y’all juice

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livingalifeofasimp · 3 years

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Incurable Love

《♚ SLIGHT YANDERE / POSSESSIVE Zhongli X Reader ♚》

➳ Dynasty Au

➳ Warning : This content contains Yandere themes if you are sensitive please refrain yourself from reading it. This is purely for entertainment purpose, arts and pictures are not mine credits to respective owners, only the content is mine.

❖ You leap through the time to some dynasty and found yourself in the dark forest sunlight scatting through the leaves, on waking up you saw yourself surrounded by some men, the look on their faces made you feel some kind of outsider. They were dressed in traditional wear layers of clothes warped around them secured with leather belts, long hairs, head decorated with pretty accessories.

❖A man came forward glaring, your clothing style made them even more suspicious of you " What is your name? Who sent you here?", Starling you with his strict voice pointing a beautifully crafted weapon yet deadly in your direction that you assumed was sword. "Is this some kind of sick joke, some social experiment Hahah I ain't falling for this", you shouted looking around you for hidden cameras where are they? Other than that, it's illegal to bring people without their consent.

❖"Stop fooling around answer or die" something in his voice told you this all wasn't a joke as he put his sword near your neck. You cut your skin slightly in the attempts to push the sword away realizing it's not a play. "Do you wanna die so much?, General she doesn't look like an assassin", a young looking guy came forward, "Suspicious, everything about her is suspicious, her words, her clothes, her etiquettes, which country are you from?", Everything felt wrong you took a step back ready to run for your life while they argued with each other.

❖Your heartbeat accelerated as you ran faster than anything to save your ownself, curiously you turned your head and saw an arrow shooted towards you, subconsciously a scream left your mouth before you were pinned by the sharped arrow on the woods. "How bold are you?", General guy mocked you already on his way to grab your neck.

❖"Stop what's is this chaos for?", A deep commanding voice stopped him, he kneel down and bowed followed by all the other guys. "A sceptical girl has appeared, your majesty", he reported to the tall man dressed in all the luxury who made eye contact with yours, you adverted your eyes not wanting to offend these dangerous men after glaring at him. "Is this?", The man bend down and grabbed your chin to get a full view of your face, to find out from where you are.

"I believe people don't want to die unreasonable deaths I will ask you once where are you from?",

"I am from South",

❖You lied through your teeth making an innocent face these sharp men, hopping to not get caughted by them, his face held a cold expression clearly not showing whatever is going in his mind. "South? From felecoia island?, You hurriedly nodded your head after all you wanted was to get away from them and find your way back. "Why are you here?", "Work I need money to eat", you babbled out anything that could at least save you from his threatening presence. He was surprised, your clothing did amused him, even tho your speaking lacked manners according to the era.

——————————————————————

❖You were forced on Emperor Zhongli's laps reminiscing, if you would have not said the things that you said would you be somewhere else in life, why did it ended up like this?. "What are you thinking about? Today is my birthday, you should be enjoying", he said playing with your silky hair, you looked at the other side of the hall court officials drinking wine, enjoying, young girls dancing who were selected by the empress dowager so that Emperor Zhongli could choose one of them to be his wife or concubines on his birthday as gift, girls of powerful and influence families, beautiful and perfect in literature were dressed in a seductive way to win Emperor's heart but here he is looking at you with his heart eyes demanding your affection.

❖His face buried in your shoulders leaving kisses and smelling your intoxicating smell that always manages to calm him down, as you try pushing his body away with your hands that he took in his slowly intertwing, pulling your form closer, his left hands encircled your waist as he deepens the kiss running with passion as if he wants you to feel all his love towards you, his overwhelming love and desire that he can't hold back. Noble women looks at you with envy warning you to not get closer to the guy that they love.

❖Zhongli holds your hand to make you walk along side with him which was not done by any other Emperor before. Zhongli knows its wrong but he wants you to love him, piecing pain passes through his heart whenever you say you won't love him, leaving him at the verse of crying. Sometimes his love, loneliness, caring and gentle personality towards you melts your heart but his tendency to get jealous easily in small things makes you think otherwise seeing you pet an animal, he pushes it way and put his head in your lap asking you to caress his hair instead, trying to keep you closer to him all time and hugs you without your consent, making you think maybe it's a good choice to stay with him since you are not able to find your way back home.

❖Whenever you mention your timeline he holds you tight in his embrace afraid to let go so that you won't disappear. Zhongli do not show you his darker side, killing officials or their daughters and maids who plot against you on the spot, cutting their wives, husbands, concubines, sons and daughters' tongue but he isn't afraid to show you his clingingness, holding you down in his bed with him and making you his hugging pillow, trying to win your affection by showing you his pityfull and pathetic, lonely self. Surprising you that the most powerful Emperor who won each battles and states kneel infront of you begs and threatens you to love him.

❖You remember the time when you said, you liked cherry blossoms in one of your friendly lunches with Emperor, the next day you saw your backyard filled with exotic beautiful cherry blossoms trees making your jaw drop, unbelievable how did he managed to do such thing.

❖"My lady do you like it?, it's specially designed for you, each patterns are threaded perfectly, Royal tailors had spent sleepless nights to make this masterpiece asked by the Emperor", a representative tailor girl said as she carefully put the luxurious red robe around you looking for some mistaken errors trying not to displease the ruthless Emperor. Suddenly guards announced his arrival which caused head maids to retreat back, bow down and leave the chamber immediately as Zhongli springed towards you, trapping you in a hug.

❖"You look so beautiful my Empress, this should be enough", you tried to moved away from him "Empress who?, I am not any Empress", Zhongli poked your cheeks "Quit joking my love", he walked around you and stopped behind you causing you to be nervous who knows what he is planning?, Zhongli caressed your back or rather the pattern design, thread made of gold, it's Dragon's symbol which symbolizes protection, power, luck and wisdom most importantly possession of Emperor, with this on, no one will dare to come closer to you or lay their eyes on you and disrespecting you would be equal to violating Emperor's order, the punishment served will be execution, it's a simple warning to everyone.

❖Zhongli's touch caused you to jump and due to reflex you turned around to look at him, just what is this man thinking?. Zhongli grabbed your right wrist and pulled you to him making you clash against his hard toned chest, he affectionately caressed your left cheeks too drunk in your view to realize your struggles and kissed your right cheek lovingly before whispering in your ears with his deep husky voice a templating offer, "Be mine, let me love you and I will give everything you want, you are the only one I need, I am not asking much, my Goddess please be kind to me, grant me the chance to get your love, your precious than any treasure I own", before enveloping you in a desperate hug.

❖When he hugs you so affectionately but securely telling you how much he loves you that he can kill anyone, forcing you to promise that you will never leave his side whenever he finds out about your escape attempts from the shadow guards, dangerous then any other trained soldier who were assigned to guard you more like to prevent you from escaping, no wonder you always get caughted some or the other way each time you try.

❖You where gazing at all the other princes ( Emperor's brothers) gathered in imperial garden who knew they looked so handsome when Zhongli turned your face towards him by holding your chin with his index fingers " Your Highness.....what?", his angry face scared you after all he can execute anyone he wants "Go inside and wait for me", stealing a delicious view away from you "But", "Show her way inside", he commanded your maids who draged you inside.

"You should be my concubine"

"No way I will never share my husband with anyone I want to be his only wife and him to be my only husband".

❖You smiled to yourself satisfyingly he got no chance other than to leave you but instead of seeing a disappointed Zhongli you saw a blushing Zhongli, his Chief assistant was shocked who immediately turned his head in some other direction to not get his eyes plug out by the tyrant.

❖"How can I be so stupid, you shall be my only wife and be mine forever I shall be yours forever my dear wife", Zhongli said taking your left hand in his long pretty muscular hands and kissed your ring finger as your smile disappeared realizing that you digged your own grave.

#genshin impact #yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #tumblr #tumblrfeed #yandere story #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli x reader #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere zhongli #Emperor x reader #yandere Emperor #yandere Emperor x Reader #king x reader #yandere king x Reader #possessive boyfriend #yandere male x reader

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ofvergen · 4 years

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tag drop 1

#⚔️ ooc: when the white frost comes do not eat the yellow snow #⚔️ ic: the dragon’s ire more fierce than fire #⚔️ asks: now you know my greatest secret #⚔️ shitposting: i know a woman is flighty but to that scale?#⚔️ about: she will rise with a spine of steel and a roar like thunder #⚔️ memes: we have been very brave; we have wanted to know the worst #⚔️ desires: when she loved; she loved with chaos #⚔️ nsfw: blessed are the ones who have been taken by her wild #⚔️ words: someone like me needs a legend #⚔️ aesthetic: awake; arise; or be forever fallen #⚔️ visage: of the strangest beauty and the darkest courage #⚔️ mannerisms: i kneel before no one #⚔️ music: don’t let their doubts drown out the sound of your own heart beating #⚔️ home: longest way round is the shortest way home #YALL i'm struggling so hard right now lmao #please ignore me for a moment or two im really trying my best out here

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jtavington · 3 years

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SSAU - Edelgard’s defense

Yes, she could be quite comfortable here. It wasn't that different from her scraps of memory of Faerghus.

Faerghus. She had lived in a house a little like this in Fhirdiad when she and her real uncle had been exiles. They were never supposed to see home again to keep her safe. Edelgard shuddered. The last few weeks broke over her. Constance and Hubert were dead. She was alive, even though she had promised all of Adrestia that it was better to die than to fail in their glorious revolution. She was a cripple and didn't know whether or how much she could expect to improve. She had a false name, a false history, and worst of all a false marriage. She covered her eyes as best as she could with her good hand as tremors of trapped sobs overtook her.

Byleth knelt before her. "What's wrong?"

Edelgard grit her teeth. She had lost the ability to cry when she had watched her last sister die, but the tremors wouldn't stop. "What am I supposed do?" she managed.

"Well, you've had a long day, so I think it would be a good idea if you took a nap and--”

"No." She dropped her hand and forced herself to look Byleth in the eye. "What I supposed to do? You've rescued me from death and those blasted rings are around our fingers, Maria. We're halfway across the continent, sharing a house with a former diva and a criminal mastermind who despises me. You've moved heaven and earth to make sure I lived when I should have died. But everyone I've ever loved besides you is dead, we've left chaos behind us, and I can't use the bathroom on my own. What sort of life do you envision for us? Or was it just the guilt you couldn't stand? If it was, I assure you that everything those refugees said was true. You can run me through with a clear conscience."

The room fell silent. Edelgard's chest burned with the exertion of speaking so much. She and Byleth looked at each other. There were little lines around Byleth's eyes that hadn't been there five years ago. She didn't look like the second coming of the Goddess. She looked tired. She rose to lock the door before returning to kneel in front of Edelgard, “I suppose we do need to talk about it." She swallowed. "You don't think living is a good thing?"

"Not good enough." She wished she was younger, wished they were back at Garreg Mach with thousands of stars overhead, wished she was drunk on the belief that she had found one person she could tell her secret. "Not when the church and the nobility are stronger than ever and there's nothing I can do about it. I didn't drink the hemlock for your sake, Professor, but the dream I lived for, my oldest friend, and the woman I love are all dead. All that's left are you in the blood at my feet. I don't know how to move forward." And without that movement, she was nothing.

Byleth exhaled. "I didn't think that far ahead. I just wanted to change cruel fate. But I guess I've got to think, for both our sakes."

"I suppose you do."

"Then...tell me something." She swallowed. "How much of the Flame Emperor and the persecution and everything I saw during the war...how much of that was you?”

Edelgard blinked. Of all the questions Byleth could have asked... No doubt she was deciding whether Edelgard deserved mercy. Edelgard would not beg. She made her voice as even and clipped as her traitorous muscles permitted. "I hired Kostas to murder Dimitri and Claude. Retrieving the Sword of the Creator and faking an assassination attempt was Thales' idea, though I would have cheerfully used the sword if I'd been able. I told him to use Jeritza as he wished. I learned about Flayn's kidnapping after it had already happened. Truthfully? I was glad to see him blow up in their face. Everything I told you about Remire was true. It was an atrocity, and I was glad to see Solon die for it. They were my subjects.

"And Dad?” Her voice was small, like a child's. "You didn't...”

It would be easy to crush her hope, to play the opera villain and say she had planned it all. Just as easy as it would have been to let that Beast kill her. "I think that was Kronya's act of spite. Your revenge was a good excuse for me to get some of my own. The Holy Tomb... I needed the Crest Stones. Nothing, not even you or the Black Eagles were going to stop me."

"I see," Byleth said in the exact same tone as if this were an oral examination. "You needed them for Beasts."

There was no point in denying it. "I believed it necessary, considering the Alliance and Kingdom had so many Relics."

"Necessary?” Byleth whispered. "You saw what happened to Miklan and you believed it necessary? Nothing justifies that." Her eyes flashed and she gripped the arms of the chair so hard that her knuckles turned white. "I'm sure we missed some. And they can live for a thousand years. You did that."

"Better that than failure. If the world were just, I might not have needed them. If I had had more power, I would have sent Thales to the eternal flames where he belongs long ago. But the church you love so much is worse than Thales. They control humans. They lied and said Crests were a gift of the Goddess and they kept lying.” Her vision blurred. They had made her believe Saint Seiros and the Goddess cared and would spirit her from the dungeons if only she prayed hard enough. "I wouldn't be surprised if they controlled what we know of the natural world."

Byleth flinched as if she had been struck. "You don't know that."

Edelgard thrust home. “But they might. They would have never let my reforms stand, and dragons live much longer than humans. I would have gotten rid of Crests without war, and I never would have had a chance without the Beasts and the alliances and everything else you find so distasteful.”

Nothing. Edelgard felt oddly light. She had given up any hope of being understood, but it felt good to make the case at long last. Byleth would do as she must.

"Thank you." Her face and voice were no easier to read than before as she stood. She looked down at Edelgard, appraising, and Edelgard found herself holding her breath. "I know what I want to do with you. You shed innocent blood, Edelgard. You made decisions for other kingdoms that you had no right to make. Your suffering and good intentions mitigate that. They do not justify it. What you did wasn't necessary."

Edelgard closed her eyes. So this was how her execution came.

"And I want you to prove it. I told you that your paralysis wasn't the end of your dream. I think that's true. Because it was always your drive, your desire for justice, your charisma that made you my favorite. The Edelgard von Hresvelg I remember would never give up." Her hand covered Edelgard's good one. "Prove to the world that Crests don't matter. I'll help you."

"How?" Five years ago, she would have given her weight in gold for Byleth to say something like that. She would have taken on the world if only her professor stood at her side. And that overawed teenager was still a part of her, as much as she hated it.

"Recovering would be a good start.”

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dragabloodvist · 4 years

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Future Chieftess

This... was surprisingly fluff compared to my usual writing. I didn't know I had it in me! Be warned though if you check out my other stories. They are much darker.Summary:

Stoick abusing Astrid comes to a sudden end when Hiccup finds out what his father is doing to his betrothed. But what now? How can they go on? Is there even a future left for them?

Notes:

This is the sequel to a one-shot I wrote over a year ago. It was about how Stoick repeatedly raped Astrid under the threat of not giving his blessing to her marriage with Hiccup if she refused or told anyone. That is really all you have to know if you're not comfortable with reading about that for yourself. I've had this ending in mind almost since I posted the first installment, and I'm relieved I could finally write it. It didn't turn out as planned but I'm satisfied with how it is now.

When he heard the noise, Hiccup looked up from his work at the forge in confusion. It was an urgent knock on the door to Gobber's workshop, not that unusual in itself. But it was late, long past nightfall, and it didn't quite sound like the rapping of a fist against wood. Toothless looking up in sudden alarm didn't help to settle his confusion, either.

"What's up, bud? Who is it?"

Toothless warbled a response and jumped up from where he'd dosed near the forge and over to the door. Hiccup followed him, frowning. Who could it be that they made Toothless this anxious?

As it turned out, it was Stormfly, and from one moment to the other, Hiccup felt anxious, too. "Stormfly? Calm down, girl. Where's Astrid? Did something happen?"

Stormfly chirped, hectically tripping from one big foot to the other. Hiccup felt a cold shiver run down his back. He looked around, but Astrid was nowhere to be seen.

He glanced back at the workshop, then closed the door and followed Stormfly. Luckily, the forge wasn't lit anymore, so there was no danger in leaving it unsupervised.

At first, he wanted to gesture Toothless to let him climb on his back to let Stormfly lead the way, but as it turned out, that wasn't necessary. She wasn't flying anywhere and just ran up the street, turning her head every now and then as if to make sure that he was following.

He was, getting more and more confused as he realized where the Nadder was leading him. To his own home? That made no sense. Was Astrid there?

Once they'd reached the door, Stormfly became even more anxious, fidgeting and nudging him toward the door to open it. Puzzled, Hiccup got closer. Noises were coming from inside, but they were too muffled to make any sense.

The sight that greeted him once he opened the door was one he would never ever forget.

At first, he didn't even understand what he saw. There was Astrid, her golden hair shimmering in the dim light of the hearth. She was leaning onto the table- Or no, not leaning onto it. More like lying on it, front first. Partially at least. Was she hurt? Was that why Stormfly had been so upset?

His father was there, too, standing behind her. Helping her?

But then he realized his mistake. Astrid was sobbing quietly. She wasn’t wearing any clothes, and neither did his father, his meaty hands pressing her down onto the table. And the moment Hiccup entered, Stoick grunted in a very telling way, one that made Hiccup want to throw up.

When he noticed Hiccup, a dark grin spread over his face. Without taking his eyes off his son, his hips pistoned forward once more. Astrid cried out in pain.

Hot rage flared up in Hiccup’s chest. He wanted to shout, to push his father away, to draw his sword and kill him! How dare he lay hand on Astrid?

But before he could do either, before he could even do so much as one step forward, something shot past him. It landed on the table next to Astrid’s hand. Or rather, stuck in there. A Nadder spine.

It all happened so fast, he barely could follow. At one moment, the spine was stuck in the table, in the next, it was in Astrid’s hand, and then-

Stoick screamed when the spine got rammed into him. Astrid’s position didn’t give her much leverage, but she had enough strength to let the sharp tip tear through skin and muscles. The damage itself might have been manageable… but the Nadder poison was not.

Frozen in place, Hiccup watched as his father turned unusually red. He staggered backward, choking and gurgling. When his back hit the wall, he sank to the ground, twitching uncontrollably. His eyes were bulging out, reddish foam coming out of his mouth. It took less than a minute and then the Chief of Berk was dead.

But Hiccup was too stunned to think about that now. He hurried over to where Astrid had slid off the table and lay in a crumpled heap on the cold ground. She was trembling, sobbing quietly. A quick inspection showed no wounds, but it what he suspected was the truth then her injuries wouldn’t be visible. Most of them wouldn’t even be physical. His hands balled into angry fists when he noticed the milky liquid leaking out of her ass, dotted with spots of red.

“Stormfly, go and get Gothi,” he commanded.

Stormfly didn’t seem happy to leave, but she wouldn’t fit inside the house anyway and probably understood that her rider most of all needed a healer right now.

Hiccup didn’t wait for the dragon to fly off. He took a blanket from one of the cupboards near the hearth, warm from the fire, and gently wrapped it around Astrid’s shivering body. Covering her.

“Astrid?” he asked gently when she didn’t react.

Astrid’s sobbing grew louder but she grabbed the blanket and pulled it closer around her. That was a good sign, she wasn’t completely catatonic.

Hesitantly he kneeled next to her. His first instinct was to take her into his arms and comfort her, but he wasn’t sure whether she could stand to be touched. So he held back.

“How are you?” he asked into the silence.

He got no answer though, and directly chided himself. What a stupid question! It was obvious that she wasn’t okay. What had he even expected as an answer?

After another minute of silence, Astrid sat up a little, moved away from the cold floor, and closer to the fire. When he saw her wince at every other movement, his worried grew.

“You’re hurting.” It wasn’t a question. “Is there… is there something I can do? Something I can get for you? Something to help?”

But Astrid just shook her head. She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Anxiously, Hiccup shifted around until he found the courage to ask the next question.

“Can you… Do you want to tell me what happened?”

He didn’t want to know, not in detail. Their naked state and everything else was enough to tell him what he needed to know. That his father had raped the woman he loved, had violated and hurt her. But maybe it would help her to talk about it. In that case, he was willing to listen to it all. Everything to help her as best he could.

But Astrid still didn’t say anything, even averted her face further to hide her pained expression and pulled the blanket tighter around herself.

Hiccup swallowed, unsure of what to do now. He wanted to help her, to comfort her, to just do anything to help her. But there was nothing he could do to make what happened undone, and he’d never felt so helpless. So useless. But it was nothing against how Astrid had to feel…

His eyes wandered to where the body of his father lay a few feet away. He knew that he should feel something, sorrow maybe, or grief… but there was nothing. Stoick had always been a cruel man, efficient but callous. And even though his death and what had happened to Astrid was horrible and not something he’d been prepared for… he couldn’t say that it truly shocked him.

“Was this the first time?”

The question came out low, a whisper only, and he wasn’t even sure why he’d asked it. It wasn’t as if he truly expected an answer. So it surprised him even more when suddenly her low whisper reached his ears.

“No, it wasn’t…”

Mutely, Hiccup nodded. His heart ached for what she must have gone through. “How often?” He didn’t want to know but he had to. In case she was willing to tell him.

She took a while to answer, shifting beneath her blanket. “Every two or three nights. Ever since… since we returned from the Edge.”

Hiccup’s head whipped around to her, eyes wide in horror, and he was glad that she wasn’t looking. Since they’d returned from the Edge… that was months ago! How could this have happened? How had he not noticed? She had been different since they moved back to Berk, but he’d always assumed other reasons. That living with her parents again was difficult after the freedom they had on the edge; he’d felt the same after all. And that she’d been nervous because of the pressure people put on them now that their relationship was official and out in the open. But all along, it had been his father and his sick desires. He should have known!

“Why didn’t you talk to me?” he choked out. He didn’t want to give her the feeling that any of this was her fault because it wasn’t! But, Odin, if only she would have told him! He could have helped her, would have defended her, would have stood up to his father, and whoever else might have been threatening her. If only she’d said something…

There were noises outside, the rustling of wings and Stormfly’s familiar call. Finally, Gothi was here to take care of Astrid.

“It was for you,” Astrid murmured just as the door opened. She wasn’t looking at him, her knuckles standing out white as she clutched her blanket tight. “He would have arranged a political marriage for you if I hadn’t done what he wanted…”

Hiccup flinched, her words hitting him harder than any punch he’d ever received. But even if he’d known what to reply he didn’t get the chance. Gothi reached them, and after only one long look around, she motioned for Astrid to follow her out. Her expression was grimmer than Hiccup had ever seen before.

_______________________________________________________________

The following days were chaos. Hiccup barely got a quiet minute to breathe, let alone talk to Astrid again. She stayed at her parents’ house, in her room, and he didn’t quite dare to approach her again. Not after the horrors his father had done to her. Was there even anything he could do to make it better, easier?

Either way, he barely got the chance to even think about that. First, he had to explain why the Chief was suddenly dead. It helped that Gothi knew exactly what had happened and that Gobber, after the old healer had explained, was on his side. That way, they didn’t have to give a detailed explanation of how Stoick had violated Astrid, only that he’d done unforgivable things. The truth was out in the form of rumors, but that couldn’t be helped.

Then Hiccup had to organize taking over the lead. He’d been trained well, but suddenly being in charge still took its toll on him. It was exhausting work, not least because he’d always thought that Astrid would be at his side once he became Chief. She was there when he was officially appointed. But instead of proudly standing next to him, she stood at the back of the room, between her father and uncle, and almost hidden beneath a wide cloak.

Hiccup couldn’t blame her. This way, barely anyone noticed her standing there and those who did didn’t dare to say anything. She was the first to disappear from the great hall once the feast in his honor started, but at least she’d been there.

Days became weeks and Berk carried on with little difficulties. But Astrid still wouldn’t leave her room, even though the gossip about what Stoick had done to her had died down. With longing, Hiccup found himself looking up at her window whenever he passed the Hofferson’s house, dreading to think about where they stood now.

His feelings for her hadn’t changed, but given what had happened to her - what she’d endured for him no less! - it wouldn’t surprise him if she never wanted to see him again. Maybe it would even be better for her if she left Berk altogether and started anew, maybe with Atali and the Wingmaidens, with Mala and the Defenders, or even with Dagur and Heather at Berserker Island. He would miss her terribly, but if that was what she wanted, then he would arrange it for her. Anything if only it helped her cope.

One day, over a month later, Hiccup gathered all his courage and knocked at the Hofferson’s door. Astrid’s mother opened him and after throwing him one long look, she stepped aside to let him in.

“If you want to talk to Astrid I fear you won’t have much luck,” she informed him. She sounded tired.

“And… why is that? Am I not allowed… would you stop me from seeing her?”

That thought stung, but he could understand it. She’d suffered enough because of him.

Astrid’s mother sighed. “No, I won’t stop you. But I doubt she’ll talk to you. She doesn’t talk to anyone.”

Hiccup’s eyes widened. “At all?”

“At all. Not a single word since… you know… since you found her.”

Hiccup slumped down into a chair and his chest contracted painfully. She was that miserable? His heart ached for her and it hardened his resolve. He would do everything to make her life better. Even giving up the one thing he wanted more than anything else.

“I still have to try,” Hiccup muttered and got up. “Even if she only listened.”

Her mother nodded and didn’t try to stop him as he climbed the stairs to her room. He hesitated, gathering his nerves, and knocked at her door.

“Astrid? It… It’s me. Hiccup. Can we… I don’t know… talk?”

At first, he thought her mother had been right and she wouldn’t hear him. But then he heard movement behind the door and it opened, revealing a scarily pale and haggard version of her beautiful face. Without a word, she stepped aside to let him in and Hiccup followed her invitation.

The air in her room was stuffy and on a shelf near her bed stood a plate with half-eaten food. Astrid didn’t look at him as she sat down on the edge of her bed, didn’t say a word. Hiccup fidgeted, waiting, but eventually realized that he would have to start. He sat down in the one chair she had, feeling uncomfortably stiff.

“Astrid, I… I’m so sorry about what happened! I wish I’d noticed something or could have prevented it or…” he gulped. He’d thought that it was important to say these things, but now they only felt hollow and artificial. He sighed. “I… I came to offer you some options for… for, you know… for what to do now. I thought maybe staying with Atali on Wingmaiden Island for a while could help you. Or I’m sure Mala would be happy to welcome you, or you could stay with Dagur and Heather if you like. It’s up to you, whatever you want or need. Just… just let me know and I’ll arrange everything.”

While he talked, Astrid slumped in on herself. Her arms were wrapped around her body and she was shaking. Hiccup wanted nothing more than to walk over and hold her, to comfort her, to let her know that he would always be here for her. But he didn’t dare to touch her. She’d been violated enough.

So he waited, hoping for some form of reaction. When none came, he nodded to himself, sad and disappointed, and stood up to leave. He’d hoped she would open up at least a little bit, but he respected that she couldn’t. Maybe, one day…

He was about to leave when he heard the sound, a whisper barely audible. Her voice was hoarse and weak. Just as it was to be expected after she hadn’t used it in a long while.

“So you think I should leave…”

Hiccup whirled around. He half believed that he’d only imagined her voice. Maybe it was just wishful thinking that she’d broken her silence for him. There was no sign that she’d spoken either; she still sat as still as before. But still, leaving had become impossible.

Feeling a little bolder now that she’d opened herself this tiniest bit, he went to where she sat and crouched down next to her. Her one hand lay in her lap and he reached for it, slowly, exhaling with relief when she didn’t pull it away.

“I… I think that leaving Berk could help you,” he said quietly. “If you start anew and leave the bad memories behind… or at least try to. If you’re not getting reminded of… of what happened every day again and people don’t know and treat you differently… maybe then it’ll be easier for you to move on?”

He’d been through this so often in his head. All these reasons why it would be better for her to go. Why he would have to let her go! But still, saying them out loud was not as easy as he’d hoped. And it hurt!

Astrid didn’t reply, but Hiccup got the impression that she just needed a little time. Her hand in his was twitching and he squeezed it encouragingly. He would support her whatever it was she chose. Because that was all that was left for him to do.

When she finally reacted though, it was not in a way he’d expected.

Her head dropped even lower, her hair falling around her and covering most of her face. Still, Hiccup was sure he spotted a lonely tear dropping off her nose. Was she crying? When she spoke again, her voice was even thinner than before.

“You don’t want me to stay…”

Hearing her utter those words made his heart clench and added a new layer to his pain. She thought he didn’t want her anymore?

Throwing all caution into the wind, he wrapped both his hands around hers. Holding her tightly and hoping that he wasn’t crossing an unforgivable line.

“Of course I want you to stay! Astrid, my feelings for you haven’t changed. I love you with all my heart and nothing will ever change that. I still want to marry you and live my life with you. Protect Berk and start a family with you, all the things we’ve talked about so often. But only if that’s what you still want, too. Please, I’m begging you, don’t lie for my sake. Not to me but also not to yourself. Whatever it is you want, I’m here to support you. Whatever you need, I’ll…”

He trailed off as Astrid withdrew her hand. She was shaking, sobbing quietly, and Hiccup wanted to hit himself. Had he hurt her again?

_____________________________________________________________

That night, Hiccup lay on the makeshift bed he’d made for himself in a free stall of the arena. He couldn’t stand living in his father’s house anymore and had already made plans to tear it down and build a new one in its place. But so far, there were always too many other urgent issues to start this project and… well, the final design of the new house depended on decisions that weren’t his to make. Whether it would have to include a stall for a Nadder, to name only one.

With a deep sigh, he rolled onto his side. He had no idea what Astrid would decide or how much time she would need to even make a decision. He just hoped that he hadn’t hurt her further with his visit.

For a long while, he tossed and turned, unable to find any sleep, until he heard the noise. Footsteps were echoing from the stonewalls outside. Was someone looking for him? Had something happened? It was no secret that he could be found here, after all.

In a hurry, he reattached his leg, and when to see who it was. But even though he was prepared for whatever problem might have come up that needed urgent solving in the middle of the night, he was still surprised when he opened the gate and recognized the figure standing there.

“Astrid? Is… did something happen?”

When she saw him, Astrid momentarily froze and then came running toward him. All Hiccup could do was reflexively open his arms to catch her when she threw herself at him. Her arms were tight around his chest and her face hidden against his neck. She was trembling but calmed once his arm closed around her.

It was strange to hold her again after all this time; not bad, just odd. It felt good but also scared him a little. Had she made her decision? Was she here to say goodbye?

“Astrid? What- mmng!”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his question. Before he’d recovered from the surprise of her being here at all, let alone in his arms, she stretched and kissed him. His first instinct was to pull away. So much had happened, she’d been violated enough, and there was so much to talk about. But she had started it, he reminded himself, and rejecting her would only hurt her more. So he gave her the lead.

He parted his lips when she let her tongue glide over them, and moaned into her mouth as she took full control over their kiss. There was a sense of desperation in it, as if Astrid needed this for some reason.

Hiccup stopped caring about anything else and just let her ravage his mouth as she pleased. With every passing second, he focused less on how brittle and hurt she had to be and just enjoyed having her like this. He pulled her tighter against him, had one hand buried in her hair. Thor, he’d missed her!

Without stopping kissing him, she let her hands glide down and beneath his tunic. He shuddered when they found his skin, roaming up to his bare chest, exploring. When they’d still lived at Dragon’s Edge, they’d occasionally made out already with kisses and careful touches, but she’d never been bold like this. Her hand found his nipple, lightly pinching it when the first brush already made him groan in unfamiliar pleasure. Gods, what was she doing to him?

Her entire body was pressed against his. Her soft breasts rubbed enticingly against his chest, the sensation barely dulled by their clothes. She wasn’t wearing her bindings and it felt amazing, intense. It made his cock swell and press against his pants and he never wanted her to stop, the lack of blood in his head making it hard to think.

However, when she shifted to press one leg against his crotch and ground herself wantonly against his thigh while releasing the most sinful moans he’d ever heard from her, he had to stop her.

“Astrid, what are you doing?”

She whimpered, her head dropping to his shoulder. “Does… does it bother you?” Her hand glided up on the inside of his thigh and stopped just shy of his eagerly twitching dick.

“N-no,” he moaned, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss. He’d never felt so good in his entire life! But still… “But what about you? We don’t need to…”

“Yes, we do! I need it. Please, Hiccup. If it’d okay for you then let me do this!”

Her hand was rubbing his cock now, slipping beneath his waistband, and all logic or coherent thoughts about not pushing her left his mind. Her hand felt so good!

He yelped when she suddenly slid to the ground, but it must have been intentional. Before he knew what was happening, she pulled his pants down to his knees and when he felt her mouth on his cock, everything else lost its meaning.

Her tongue sent him to Valhalla as she licked his cock from base to tip. She hummed when she tasted his precum and even smiled as if she enjoyed it. Hiccup could only watch in awe as she played and teased him, her tongue gliding around his glans or teasing is slit, sucking playfully. She even giggled every now and then, happily nuzzling his cock and balls.

When she eventually took him into her mouth though, Hiccup thought he was losing his mind. Never before had he felt anything remotely close to the wet heat that engulfed him without a warning. With a desperate grunt, he bucked forward, his body searching more of that divine feeling. It made her choke but she didn’t pull back. If anything, she took him in deeper until her nose was pressed into his pubes and his cock caught in her throat.

Hiccup whined, absentmindedly massaging Astrid’s scalp. It was all he could do to not fuck into her mouth with abandon, to let her clenching muscles massage him into insanity.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck!” he moaned when his balls grew tight with the need to release in practically no time at all. “A-astrid, I’m gonna- OH, FUCK! I’m coming, Ast- FUCK!”

Right before he came, Astrid pulled away. Her hand was on his cock not a moment later, stroking him with a fierceness that made his knees buckled. He came with a desperate cry, the force of his orgasm taking him entirely by surprise. Pleasure zipped up his spine made him go cross-eyed as his cock jerked in her grip.

The next thing he knew was that he was kneeling on the ground and leaning against Astrid. Her shirt was littered with his spunk, her leggings, and the ground around them, too.

“Sorry,” he slurred. He was fighting to get back full control of his body but it only came slowly. “I didn’t mean to… to make such a mess. Gods, I hadn’t meant to… That was just… How did you learn that?”

Astrid, who’d had a satisfied smirk on her swollen lips until now, grimaced and averted her face. Hiccup wanted to kick himself. Of course, he knew who must have taught her to give head like this. The thought made him angry. Stoick hadn’t suffered enough for what he’d done to Astrid!

“I’m sorry,” he said again, this time more coherently. “For… for everything. You know that, right?”

She nodded.

Hiccup hesitated, but he just had to ask. “So… what was this? I mean… why did you do it?”

Astrid tensed. “You didn’t like it?”

Now, he chuckled. “Of course, I liked it! It was… Gods, Astrid, that was amazing! I-I’ve never felt anything like that. I… I just don’t understand… why now? Not that I’m complaining, because I’m really, really not, but… What made you do that?”

“Because… I wanted to do it!” Blushing, she looked away, her tongue poking out to wet her lip. “I… I want it all back,” she murmured after a long pause.

Confused, Hiccup cocked his head.

“What… what he took from me, you know? I want it back. My body. My strength. My confidence. This is me reclaiming what he stole from me.”

She had tears in her eyes and Hiccup reached to wipe them away. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Hesitantly, she nodded. She took his hands in hers and placed them on her waist, pushing them beneath her shirt. “Touch me. Undress me.”

“Are you sure?” He didn’t want her to push herself. She’d been violated enough, he didn’t want to add to that.

“Yes. I want it to be you. That’s something else he took away, my choice. Now, I’m choosing you. I want you!”

Gulping, Hiccup did as she’d asked. At first, he had to fight against his shyness and his instinct to just cradle her in his arms, but soon he lost his worries in her endless porcelain skin and the way she responded to his touch. She was warm and soft, he wanted to touch her everywhere. And she wanted him to touch her, too. Her shirt was the first to land on the ground, revealing her bare breasts to his eyes. It wasn’t a sight he’d never seen before, but he took his time to appreciate it nonetheless, especially when he felt her trembling. No matter how brave she acted, this couldn’t be easy for her.

Slowly, he let his hands glide over her hips and up to her breasts. Reverently. He palmed each in one hand, squeezing and massaging them and played with her nipples until they hardened beneath his touch. He explored her shoulders and arms, his mouth at her neck tasting her skin. He kissed her wherever he could reach, her collarbones, and all the way down her spine. And even though he’d been shy in the beginning, her gasps and moans and the way she leaned into his every touch soon made him bolder.

Her boots and leggings went next, then her panties until she was completely bare to him. With all their fooling around at the edge, that wasn’t something he’d seen before, and he took his time to admire her. She was so beautiful. Perfect.

“What now?” he asked in a hoarse voice. He was slowly growing hard again just from touching her.

“Now it’s my turn.”

She gently pushed him down onto his back and divested him of his tunic and pants, gently took off his leg. She did the same he’d done and littered his body with hot kisses, openmouthed and wet and hungry. It was nearly driving him insane and his hands wouldn’t stay still, caressing her wherever he could reach.

By the time she was done exploring, he was raging hard again, his body craving relief. But when she straddled him, her intentions clear, he made her pause nonetheless.

“Are you sure about this?”

She smiled beautifully. “I am. He took away my first time. But what matters is our first time. And I’m so ready for it. That is… unless you’d rather wait?”

He quickly shook his head. Gods, he’d dreamed of this moment ever since he could remember!

And she was ready. Slick and hot, she sank down his length with barely any struggle. With rapture, Hiccup watched his cock disappear inside her, blown away by how aroused she was for him, by how hot and tight she felt around him, by being inside someone else for the first time ever, by it being her, finally, for real.

She gave them both a few seconds to get accustomed, seconds in which he thought her heat alone would make him cum again at any moment. Then she started moving, raising his pleasure to unknown heights. She started slowly but quickly gained more speed and force, rising almost all the way up and off his cock only to drop down hard again in the next moment. Her wetness, her breathless gasps, her bouncing tits, and her burning gaze on him… All Gods in Asgard, he was losing his mind! In between, she ground herself against him and rolled her hips in a way that drew loud moans from her. Her hands were on his chest, pressing him down, her eyes drilling into his the whole time.

Hiccup was entirely lost to it all, helpless to do anything even if she’d let him. All he could do was take it, one hand on her hip the other clawing at the ground for anything to hold on to. His teeth were gritted, his head twisted until the cords in his neck stood out. He was sweating, panting, howling. It was a wild ride, more intense than anything he ever imagined.

Astrid never looked away, barely even closed her eyes as she came. His name dropping off her lips like a prayer was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. He didn’t even notice his own orgasm approaching, but when she shook above him, her body clenching around him and her fingers digging deep into his skin, it overcame him like a powerful explosion. Bright light flared up behind his eyes, rendering him momentarily blind as pleasure shot through him. It made his toes curl and his back arch, made him cry out in overwhelming bliss.

When he came to, Astrid lay on his chest. She was panting but also giggling every now and then. Her fingers were drawing lazy nonsense shapes onto his skin. It felt really good.

He felt strangely weak but managed to raise his hand and place it on her back. “That was… Oh Freia, that was… amazing…” Speaking was exhausting, too.

Chuckling, Astrid pushed herself up to gaze down at him. “I’m glad you liked it,” she said, blushing. “Because, I liked it, too. Finally!”

Her voice broke at that last word, and from one moment to the other, she broke out in tears. Concerned, Hiccup sat up and wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t say anything, didn’t have to ask what she meant. He just held her and offered comfort as best he could. He reached for a blanket lying nearby and wrapped it around them, the night air cold on sweaty skin.

After what felt like an eternity, Astrid’s sobbing grew quieter until it died down completely.

“Are you… okay?” Hiccup felt stupid to ask, but it was all he could come up with.

Astrid pushed herself up again and nodded. Her eyes were bleary and her face swollen. “Yes, I-I’m okay. It was just…” She shook her head. “It’s the first time I feel like myself again.”

Overcome with emotions, Hiccup pulled her into a tight embrace. With his face buried in her wild hair, he sent a prayer of thanks to the Gods. She was healing. She was getting better and he hadn’t lost her.

They made themselves more comfortable between Hiccup’s blankets. Astrid snuggled close to him and sighed happily when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“So… what changed?” Hiccup asked after a while. “What made you come here tonight?”

Astrid didn’t move, stayed cuddled to his side and with her head resting on his shoulder. “It’s because of you. Of what you said.”

He nodded. He’d expected as much, but… “But what exactly? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I just… well, I’d like to understand. To help you as best I can.”

Astrid took a moment to form an answer. And when she did, her voice was trembling. Close to breaking again. “It was… that you still loved me. When… when you found me… us… you wouldn’t touch me. And then you didn’t talk to me anymore, didn’t stop by to check on me, not once. I thought that you wouldn’t want me anymore after you found out. And when you told me that I should leave Berk this morning… I thought I’d die then and there.”

Groaning, Hiccup turned until he could wrap both arms around her. “I’m so sorry! I just… I thought you needed the distance after what my f- after what that monster did to you.”

Astrid hummed. “I understand. And I appreciate the sentiment. But all I really needed was to know that you still wanted a future with me. A future… and a family.”

Hiccup sucked in a breath. The thought hadn’t occurred to him so far but he really should have thought about this sooner. “Are you… Did he impregnate you?”

He tried to think it through in a hurry. Covering up his father’s wrongdoing by raising his half-sibling as if they were his own child… The idea felt weird, repulsing. But... if that was was it took then he would do it. No matter what, first and foremost, they would be an innocent child. Astrid’s child. That was all he needed to know.

Before he could say something though, Astrid shook her head. “No, he didn’t. He… he was careful not to and I already got my moonblood again since… He threatened to do it though. To…” She gulped. “To remind me that it could always become worse if I didn’t do what he wanted.”

Hiccup nodded mutely. Again, he was painfully aware of his hands on her skin, of all the places they were touching. How she could bear the contact after what she’d been through he did not know. But he reminded himself that pulling away to give her space had only hurt her before and that she’d been the one who’d initiated the contact and who’d been the one to come to him in the first place. Gods, she was so strong, stronger than he could ever be.

Then another thought occurred to him and he stiffened. “Speaking of being careful… I-I’m so sorry! I should have warned you and not just… what if… if you’re now-”

Astrid sat up and silenced him with a kiss. “You mean if I’m pregnant now? If we have to quickly arrange our wedding in the coming weeks? If we start our family now?” She gave him a loving smile and leaned her forehead against his. “I’d say I could get used to that.”

________________________________________

This... was surprisingly fluff compared to my usual writing. I didn't know I had it in me! Be warned though if you check out my other stories. They are much darker.

#tw: rape #tw: abuse #Hiccstrid #fanfic #romance #Hurt/comfort #angst #fluff #smut #minor character death #whump #Astrid!whump #Hiccup!whump #emotional whump

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thechaoticcform · 1 year

Text

Chaos may be dominant, but he secretly wants a lover who is his equal in power. He may fight for dominance, but he loves the fight.

#Chaos headcanons #kneel before me||desires of the Chaos Dragon

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bitchwhoreofastorm · 5 years

Text

And not so long after his task is given to him Lorkhan discovers a place where Padomay has plucked at Auri-el’s long scaly hide and churned it slate-grey. He reaches his hands into it, to cleave something out of it, for it swells with potential, and he’s been charged to cleave things.

The grey resists him. Such is its first action in the new world: stubborn defiance.

But Lorkhan, too, is stubborn, and oozing with useful black, and he plunges into it. He wrestles with it for a long time, pouring into it all his will to coax it from the aether. And eventually he succeeds. The spirit, such as it is, peels away, writhing in his arms.

“What are you doing!” cries the spirit. “Leave me be, let me go back!"

"You must exist!” Lorkhan says to it.

“I do not know what that means!"

"Yes you do!" It thrashes but Lorkhan takes it by the shoulders and guides its gaze to his own. "Look at me, look at you. I, you.” He presses a hand to his own chest. “I,” and then presses its chest, “And you."

It becomes still and stares at him with a strange expression. "There is a difference."

"Yes! You and I are different. Do you see it?”

“Yes."

"Now you may exist."

Lorkhan releases it, and it takes on an aspect of him, like a reflection: masculine. But there is more to it, tri-angled and complex even at its inception. It is very perfect, chaos and stasis mingle within it in equal measure, and when the light from Auri-el’s shredded hide falls on its face it becomes handsome and splendid and dark and sinister. It is shining dragon-light marred with deep black handprints where Lorkhan wrested it into life.

And it– he, for he’s growing more real by the second– he is full of that stubborn willpower Lorkhan felt in him upon creation. "But why?” he asks of Lorkhan, unhappily. “For what? What purpose?”

Lorkhan smiles. “I don’t know."

"You don’t know?"

"You are you and I are I! I am not you. I cannot tell you. But come! Give yourself a name.”

“A name?"

"Sound is everything. Use it wisely.”

The beautiful spirit frowns. Now Lorkhan sees that he is not so beautiful as he first seemed; he is still very perfect, of course, but he’s wreathed in Padomay, laced through with Padomay, and far more complex than the Anuic skin he’d wriggled out of.

He opens his mouth, then shuts it again. Then he opens it again and sputters out: “Malak.”

“Malak!”

“Mauloch.”

“Mauloch! I am Lorkhan."

"Lorkhan."

"It is good to meet you."

"And you.” But the spirit looks about himself, perplexed again, and still full of that defiance– a strong will and, there’s that whiff of Padomay, the strife. “I still do not understand, Lorkhan. This– existence– why have you done this? What is existence?”

“Well, you are different now,” says Lorkhan. “Separate and in contrast.”

His voice must have caught on one of Padomay’s scales because Mauloch’s brow wrinkles. “Separate and… in combat?"

"That’s not what I–” Lorkhan pauses. “… Actually, yes.”

“In combat."

"But you want to fight? I see in you a desire for strife.”

“Desire?"

Lorkhan presses a hand to his chest again. "Hunger. Need. This is your key to existence."

Mauloch places a hand over his own and looks at him seriously. "Is that my purpose? If I… desire… I desire a task. Tell me what I am for."

"Oh, Malak! I cannot tell you what you are for. I have only pointed out to you a truth: that you are you, and I am I, and that there are differences. Do you desire to do? Then find something to do and go do it. Are you angry at me for my act, and wish to be in violent contrast with you? Then go seek out that strife. What you choose to do– it is a choice, and yours, not mine."

Lorkhan disentangles his hands from Mauloch and retreats. "What will you do?”

Mauloch considers this carefully. “… I think I will fight."

Lorkhan is well amused by this.

***

So Mauloch tries that tricky business of existing. Despite Lorkhan’s faith in him, he soon finds that he’s not very good at it.

His first desire is to fight and he does. He invents a sword for himself and hits a lot of things with it. It’s fun, for a bit, but he soon finds that it doesn’t fulfil him at all. Even in those early days there’s a bit too much of Auri-el in him: he wants grandness, he wants victory, he wants triumph, he wants to be proud.

Pride is what’s most alluring to him. There’s a cavern in his chest, a cavern seeking achievement, like the sconce of a lamp, aching for light. So it is soon not enough that he can fight. He wants to fight for a cause; it’s that stubborn defiance that dragged him into existence in the first place, now growing purer and cleaner, becoming a defiance with a noble goal in mind. Like rebellion that knows no master, or a crusade with no enemy to target. If only it had a purpose to achieve!

In the meantime he develops other, pettier desires: a desire for beauty, a desire for glory, a desire to be praised. When he finds foes and defeats them it slowly feeds the fledgling spark of pride in his chest. Something like a real heart begins to grow in him, something very strong and very sure of its existence: a bright orb of that golden pride, hot and soaked in vanquished blood. As he fights he becomes surer and prouder and stronger and more beautiful.

But it is not enough. It is never enough. The light is always swallowed. Lorkhan’s handprints are all over him and he is so hungry. Padomay’s legacy wriggles through his skin. He aches and he needs: a purpose, a cause, a success, a sure source of praise, his next fix of glory. He roams like a mad-man, striking down lesser spirits, fighting Anuics and Padomaics and In-Betweens alike. He seeks out challenges and learns to abhor kindness for the opportunity it deprives him. Like all things touched by Lorkhan, he wants.

It is earlier than that when he becomes infatuated with Auri-el. In those beginning days Auri-el alone is the font of beauty and pride; really, it is no surprise Mauloch would be drawn to that, he who wants a purpose that will bring him a good dose of admiration on the side. And oh is Auri-el admired! Is he successful! Beautiful and good! All of the Grey Maybe is built on his serpentine back. His wingbeats create direction and his fiery breath churns out purpose. He is a king among kings, generously bestowing beginnings and ends, so kindly providing linear time for their narratives.

And Auri-el accepts Mauloch– tentatively. He doesn’t really have a choice; Mauloch craves a challenge, and the chance to win a place in Auri-el’s esteem is a surer bait to service than any promise of payment.

Winning that place is another matter entirely.

“Tri-Malak,” says Auri-el one day to his glimmering faceted warrior, “You are strong, but you are not a knight. You can fight, but so can many, and none are worthy to be in my service.

“Tri-Malak,” (for Mauloch is like three beings wound together, complex as he is, and Auri-el is amused by this, and calls him Tri-), “Your desire to serve me does you credit, but you are no servant. You belong more to yourself. For therein is the problem– you desire to serve me– and a servant with desire is no servant at all. So long as you want you are a slave to yourself and serve only ‘I’.”

Mauloch kneels before him. “Instruct me how to become worthy.” (For, weak as he is, he wants to become, and he wants to be worthy.)

“How can you eat desire?” Auri-el pauses, and raps a long talon against the gleaming marble floor of his throne-room. “Fight. Fight, until your hunger is sated and your need slaked. For you desire strife, do you not, knight-would-be? Return to me without desire and I will name you Trinimac.”

***

So Mauloch goes and he brawls without weapons against Mehrunes Dagon, four arms to two, and they roll about fields of lava like lovers, sparring until they are made of bruises and shouting. Their fight is glorious and their combat raises mountains and they resolve absolutely nothing and at the end of it they look each other, laughing, and are forced to admit that they’ve been wasting their time, and there was no point to this battle but strife itself.

***

So Mauloch challenges Kynareth and for many days and nights flees fast and daring across a great meadow of rippling barley and through labyrinths of tall trees as her beasts pursue him. He crowns a great mountain-range and plunges through gorges and soars like a comet in his beautiful golden armour. When the wolves corner him, after many weeks, he turns and fights them, smiting each one in turn with Vosh Rakh, until they overwhelm him and he must flee again; and then he surprises them by fleeing straight into the wolf-mother’s den, and lopping off her head, and the gory victory only kindles the fire in his belly.

***

So Mauloch confronts Lorkhan. Lorkhan, who has never fought, whose way is not to fight, but nonetheless delights in Mauloch’s strife and struggle and perpetual dissatisfaction. “You are like me,” titters Lorkhan, pointing at the handprints left from Mauloch’s inception, “It is no shame! Auri-el cannot understand it, but that’s only proof of its merit. You are like me. It is good to hunger and want, that’s the soul of existence.”

“It cannot be,” says Mauloch, “Because to serve Auri-el is not to cease existing!”

“But you, as you now exist, cannot serve him.” Lorkhan laughs. “You must be Malak. And being Malak is not such a bad fate.”

***

And despite all this trial, his want is so keen that it hurts him.

***

Then, after it all, with no other choices left to him, Mauloch goes to the edge of the Grey Maybe and sinks his hands into himself and rips.

Lorkhan’s handprints part from his flesh and fall before him. Those hungry, needing, chaotic, changing parts of himself, coalesce and begin to boil. They surge at him, trying to return, but he beats them back with Vosh Rakh; and they scream, a hideous agonised wanting scream.

"You are gone from me now!” Trinimac shouts at them, striking them back. “I revoke you! You are not part of me. Be gone and cease to exist!"

But he has forgotten, perhaps, that he was born with stubborn defiance at his core, and that mark is on everything of his now. Lorkhan’s handprints writhing in midair splay their palms at him. "NO!” they say. They lunge at him again.

Trinimac strikes them down once more. “You are nothing now, be gone! I revoke you!"

"I refuse!” replies his desire. “I will not! I will not!”

“It does not matter! You are no longer part of me!"

The imprint, now slim and void-wounded and steaming, darts at the wounds where Lorkhan’s hands once touched; Trinimac knocks it back.

"I want to exist!” cries the darkness.

“You may not!”

“I want to exist!"

They clash again, and then fall, and tumble, and Trinimac feels the vestige of Lorkhan’s arms wrap around his shoulders–

"You are not I!” Trinimac shouts against its ear. “You said ‘I’! You said, 'I’! You and I are different!”

Roiling with ugly heat the spirit draws away. "I, yes, I! I do not want to disappear! Do not cast me away, I refuse to be smote into nothing, I will not be erased, I will it not!"

Vosh Rakh’s tip falls at the neck of something that is now corporeal and sentient. Trinimac is trembling with exertion. "Then go,” he gasps, “Go and be different from me. I want you no more– I want nothing any more, I am no longer a thing that desires."

And this Lorkhan-shaped outline of Malak looks at him with blazing eyes, its essence dancing at a sword-tip, so full of strife and hunger and stubborn defiance. But it departs without even telling him its name.

#this is a repost of something old i deleted but its actually ok so here it is again #trinimac #lorkhan #fic

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imababblekat · 5 years

Text

Socks For Pennies

(A/N: This is just a cute lil fic I made on the side after being inspired by this wonderful post. Also going to tag @petitelepus because we talked about dragonformers very very briefly at one point.)

You looked up from your phone the moment an audible groan reached your ears.

"Something wrong?", you questioned the handsome man who buckled his belt while looking around the floor for something.

Minimus let out another grumble, checking his watch and getting noticeably more agitated.

"I'm missing another sock."

You stifled a small laugh upon looking down to his feet to only see one sock on. If you hadn't, you knew it would only upset your tidy husband further. The chair you sat in creaked as you pushed it back to get up from the dinning table. Grabbing two mugs of jo, one still nice and full, you walked over to Minimus to join him at the kitchen’s entrance.

"We finished putting laundry away last night. Did we miss one in the dryer?"

Minimus shook his head after receiving a morning peck on the cheek from you, and appreciatively took the coffee from hand that you'd made not too long ago.

"No, the dryer was the first place I checked."

"Maybe I mixed it up with my stuff."

"Checked, and no you did not. Also, you should sort out your drawers. It would be easier for you to know what you have left, and not rush to wash clothes at the last minute."

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and instead replied by making a jab at his own clothing mishap, "Says the man who only ever has right socks."

Minimus grunted and you giggled lightly, patting his arm and following him out into the hall.

"I never had this problem till we moved into this house.", he stated matter of factly, adjusting his tie and grabbing his brief case for work.

"Perhaps it's haunted."

Minimus shot you an incredulous look, to which you merely held up your hands, wiggling your fingers and made small ghost moans. As adorable as it was, the mustached man wasn't exactly in the mood to fully fawn over your actions. Instead, he turned his gaze back to his watch, and nearly jumped right out of his pressed suit. With a curse he pulled out the closest looking sock he'd stashed in his pocket to the one he was already wearing. From the way he paused though, and the troubled look of his expression, you knew he was still bothered by even the tiniest difference between them.

"I'm sure Megatron isn't going to care if you where mix match socks, and honestly they're pretty dang similar so I don't think Rodimus will even notice.", you reassured, leaning against the hallway walls.

Minimus still looked bothered by it, but looking back at the time on his watch, it was either wear these not originally paired socks, or be late, and heaven knows that at least one of his bosses would never let him live down the later. With a huff and mumbled curses he staggered to put on the other sock, and then quickly slipped into his spotless, black shoes. Seeing Minimus make his way towards you, you left your spot against the wall and helped close the distance.

"I will be stopping by the store after work. Text me a list of anything else we need, and don't bother waiting on me for dinner. Chances are I'm going to be getting out late today, since the meeting's going to involve topics Rodimus finds particularly dull."

You nodded, blushing lightly when Minimus went through his goodbye ritual of sorts; delicately kissing the top of your hand, your forehead, and then your lips. Your eyes followed him as he then turned to leave, uniform impeccable to you, but still being slightly adjusted by his hands as he rushed out the door. You stayed where you were left, listening to Minimus truck come to life, and staying even still once is started to leave before it was completely gone. Stepping forwards and locking the door with a click, you sighed and looked over your shoulder to the living room. With a knowing frown on your face, you marched into the neatly decorated area, and straight for the plush sofa, but not before grabbing a few pennies from the lose change jar.

"Hey.", you called out standing before the couch and looking down at the ruffles of the bottom that just barely hovered over the hard wood floors.

The only reply you got was the ticking of the grandfather clock on the other side of the room. Raising a brow, you kneeled down and placed a single, brown coin on the floor. Nothing happened for a few seconds, but before long there was the sound of scuffling before two tiny clawed hands reached out and snagged the coin, before disappearing just as quickly back under the couch.

You couldn't help the tiny quirk of your lips in the corner, and sat down fully before leaning down slightly and lifting the bottom ruffles of the couch. You were quickly met with the startled expression of a tiny little creature, not a mouse or rat, but a very small dragon. His scales were various shades of blue, with the exception of his soft underbelly being a darkened grey. The claws of his hands, though small, were clearly dangerously sharp and could most likely leave a nasty cut or two. The most notable thing about the small creature was his single, glowing golden eye. The other was completely scared shut, a battle wound you could only guess his received from some other sort of animal. Still, even with his single eye, razor sharp teeth, and dangerous talons, he was irresistibly adorable, especially with the way he clutched the penny you had laid down to his chest like it was his life line.

"Whirl.", you called the dragons name, causing him to perk up and relax around you.

"You can't keep taking my husbands socks, ya know?"

At your words, Whirl's back hunched up and he glared at you. One would think it was a display of aggression, but you've come to know the tiny fire breathing creature that came with your new home, and it was in fact not aggression, but pouting. Sighing and moving into a more comfortable position to view him, you explained your reasoning.

"Minimus is smart, he'll figure out that something's going on and will probably call pest control."

The word pest apparently didn't sit well with Whirl, because he only grumbled with a hiss. Biting your lip you looked to the side, trying to think of a way to get this issue of the small dragons obsession with your lovers belongings situated. While part of it was to deal with the fact of natural dragon behavior, Whirl also took Minimus socks out of the habit of being a little shit. He didn't seem to have any filter or boundaries, or if he knew of them, he completely ignored them. The mythical being loved to cause trouble, especially in the most minuscule ways that would still really irritate someone. You'd once caught him in the middle of a heist involving your underwear, and when you shouted at him to leave it, he stared at you dead in the face with his single eye before wrapping your undergarment around him like a dog does with a soft blanket. He did other things too, such as knock over glasses while once again staring directly at you, but while you got used to his chaotic tendencies, you knew your husband would not put up with such behavior. It didn't exactly making things any easier that the Duly Appointed Enforcer had not a clue of the small being living with in the walls of your shared home. If you were going to fix this, you were going to need to do it in a way that appealed to the tiny ball of chaos under your couch.

"Alright, how about this-", you sat up with an idea, reaching into your pocket for your bundle of pennies.

Whirl's interest was quickly peaked at the sounds of jingling coins, and he scrambled to crawl out from under the couch, stopping dead in front of your knees and fluttering his cute little wings. Watching your hand intently, he felt his heart nearly stop when it opened to reveal a bunch of his desired treasure in the center of your palm.

"If you give me my husbands socks back, I'll give you all five of these pennies.", you offered with a smile.

The blue dragon slouched, eye squinting and obviously not so sure about the offer. He probably had at least ten left socks in his little hiding hole, and as much as he loved, craved the coins in your hand, that didn't seem like a fair enough deal. Small pug like grunts resounded from him as he glared up at you in a way to say no deal. You hummed thinking of a way to better bargain. Perhaps starting out small would be better, and if you could get at least one sock back from a dragon, then that's something worth noting.

"Okay, okay! How about this- all five pennies, for one sock!"

As much as the deal sounded like honey to his ears, Whirl eyed you suspiciously.

"Look, I'll even give you two now, so that way when you bring me back a sock, I'll give you the rest!"

The sharp, golden eyes looked to you, the two coins between your fingers, and back at you before quickly snatching the copper objects and disappearing back under the large furniture. You sat there, patiently waiting and listening to the sounds of little padding feet and scratches in the walls. A few minutes later, a small dragon butt poked out from under the couch ruffles, shaking and moving back to reveal more of the blue, scaled body of it's owner and the large sock it struggled to drag out. You smiled seeing the adorable lil monster waddle up to you with the sock before promptly dropping it at your knees and reach out while making tiny grabby motions with his grubby lil hands. Just as you promised, you handed the dragon the rest of the offered pennies, and once the cool coins were in his grasp, you swore you saw little stars and hearts in his eye. Whirl wasted no time in rushing back under the couch with his newly acquired treasure, all the while struggling to keep hold of it all at once. You watched one fall as he disappeared under the couch ruffles, a little blue arm reaching out to quickly snatch up the dropped penny before hastily vanishing once more.

Picking up the grey sock that belonged to Minimus, you looked it over to see surprisingly not a single tare, and called out to the tiny dragon that lived in your home.

"Thank you!"

~xXx~

#mtmte minimus x reader #mtmte whirl x reader #mtmte minimus #mtmte whirl #mtmte imagine #lost light imagine #mtmte #lost light #transformers imagine #maccadam #dragonformers #scenario #drabble #imababblekat's writing

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carbonitekisses · 5 years

Text

New Threats and Threads

III

Cersei hates having the dirty people of Kings Landing in the throne room, the same people that ridiculed her when she walked naked in the streets of the city. However, they will be needed in the future. They are the ones that will die in the battlefield and starve without the harvest. Let the commoners that are present today spread word to the rest, of the dragon queen come to burn them alive. You have met your match, Daenerys Targaryen. No one speaks yet the panic is audible and echoes against the vaulted ceiling. The throne is the last thing that remains to me.

Little birds. Sansa needs to speak to Arya. Privacy is practically nonexistent if we don't get rid of Varys’ ‘little birds’.

Jon brought more than people to their home. Memories, shadows, and secrets trailed behind him when he arrived.

On AO3

How quick are the vermin to follow the lute. Cersei breathes in the fear of the courtiers, lords, ladies, and peasants. They are wise to do so. The lute plays no lies.

"...and I were the only ones able to escape from that hell. For it was hell, your grace. Carts, gold, horses, food...men. Burnin'." Weak lips tremble while eyes widen in remembrance, "Night was not able to-to hide—"

Cersei struggles to maneuver her features into that of a caring queen. "Continue, you are there no longer. We must know what new threat the seven kingdoms are now facing."

In truth, she has already heard the trembling boy's report. He was half dragged into the throne room and accused of being a deserter by one of the City Watch. Ashes, he had cried kneeling before the throne, tha's all was left of us. The boy inside the polished soldier's garb says nothing that she had not heard from Jamie before he abandoned her. They had planned on holding an assembly like the one being held right now. Jamie would have stood beside her, reminding the lords and ladies of the Targaryen threat. But then he left. He betrayed her and left on a halfwit's quest for honor. And so now she has to make due with the sobbing mess before her.

The women shuffle their feet hidden under skirts. The men divert their eyes away from the boy as he tries to regain his composure. Perhaps his sniffles work in my favour, Cersei thinks, Jamie would have stood tall and proud. Cersei half-listens as the boy begins to speak again. The boy's fear heightens their own. Cry some more, boy. Make them see what you saw that day.

"We waited until it was dark to come out. When we did we saw—" his arm comes up to clean his dribbling nose "—the bodies. They was nothing more than ashes in the form of men. A little wind and they crumbled into the ground. The dragon queen even left the bodies of my liege lord and his son in the field." The archer hammered onto his uniform catches the light streaming in. "Left them bones there, she did. They was good men an' she burnt them."

Here is the reaction she had waited for.

Tarly.

The name is whispered by terrified eyes. They would speak it if they didn't fear her. Instead, the name of the nobles' dead contemporary walks unspoken amongst them. She feels almost inclined to thank the silver-haired bitch. Cersei knew her position in Kings Landing was not secure after the destruction of the Sept although the chaos that followed allowed her to easily claim the throne. And then came a Targaryen conquerer from beyond the Narrow Sea with Dothraki hordes, Unsullied, and dragons. The stupid twit had everything to win the game. She had the men, the firepower, the ships. The day she burnt an entire field of Westerosi men and the Tarlys was the day she lost to Cersei.

"This is the danger we face now. When I last spoke of her, in this very hall, there were some lords who were willing to betray me and seek alliances with her. Do you know what worth she places in alliances?" She rises from the throne and descends the many steps that lead up to it. "Daenerys had Lord Tarly and his son in her possession." She is halfway down. "There was no offer to be sent to the Wall. There was no offer to keep them as hostages."

Cersei stops before she reaches the floor. All of the people gathered in the hall look so small from where she stands. "She could have asked to trade them for her allies, the traitors Ellaria Sand of Dorne and Yara Greyjoy. Instead they remained in the black cells. Unprotected and unspoken for. What does that say of her state of mind? Her actions speak of madness. Fire and blood are the Targaryen words."

Nothing unites people more than fear. Daenerys Targaryen has proven with the Tarlys that the highborns of Westeros are not safe from her dragonfire. She has pushed any potential Westerosi allies into Cersei's waiting arms. Now, it is only a matter of turning the commoners against the invader.

"Westeros must stand together if we are to defeat this new threat. Nobles and smallfolk alike." The queen tilts her head slightly upwards in order to address the small pack of commoners standing in the back of the hall. "Be assured, for as much as the Targaryen pretender speaks of freeing the common people, she made no distinction between commoners and nobles. She burned them all the same; men and boys who were merely transporting the food and gold that would feed the realm. Gone."

She hates having the dirty people of Kings Landing in the throne room, the same people that ridiculed her when she walked naked in the streets of the city. However, they will be needed in the future. They are the ones that will die in the battlefield and starve without the harvest. Let the commoners that are present today spread word to the rest, of the dragon queen come to burn them alive. You have met your match, Daenerys Targaryen. No one speaks yet the panic is audible and echoes against the vaulted ceiling. The throne is the last thing that remains to me.

Cersei gives the order and the vermin scurry back to the streets and alleys of Kings Landing.

She's standing alone once more with only the Mountain to guard her.

I've lost it all for this.

Joffrey. Myrcella. Tommen.

Jaime.

Your desire for what is mine will be your fall.

The day is young and new. Hammers in the forge strike their mark in tandem with clashing swords on the training ground.

"Lord Varys," Sansa affably greets him without turning away from the courtyard below, "It is a pleasure to see you once more."

It isn't a pleasure so much as a reminder of the past. Never in her life had she imagined a situation such as this. The Master of Whispers and Lady Sansa, greeting each other atop Winterfell's walkways. She escaped her southern cage years ago only to see her home transform into the pit of whispers and fog that she left behind. Tyrion Lannister, Lord Varys...Daenerys Targaryen. She was not so naive as to think that Littlefinger's death severed all ties with courtly intrigue; nevertheless, the North seems to recoil in protest. Who else will pass through Winterfell's gates?

"My lady, there is no need for such falsities with me. You and I are both quite aware that my presence gives you no pleasure." Sansa turns and makes to dissuade him but Varys continues, "And I cannot fault you for it. Only a simpleton would find pleasure in welcoming and hosting former enemies and strangers into their home.

"And you are no simpleton, Sansa Stark. On the contrary, you have proven to be a most..unexpected winter bloom."

Sansa softly smiles, not so much as to read false.

As a child Sansa would have preened at being addressed as such by a man of Varys' status. Now, the compliment leaves her feeling exposed and threatened. To be noticed by the Master of Whispers is dangerous—especially when he has the ear of a dragon queen. Her meeting with Tyrion yesterday was fruitful but lacking in substance aside from Cersei's supposed secret. A roaring fire, choice wine, and a scared little dove loosened Tyrion's forbearance; she would be remiss if she became a pawn once more. Still, yesterday was only the beginning of a path she knows is littered with traps, ploys, and unknowns. And the man before her is known for knowing many of those unknowns.

What do you know of Winterfell, Spider? What have you managed to catch in your webs?

Varys wears no covering; the snow that blows off the turrets melts on his baldness. He looks nothing like a spider but Kings Landing taught Sansa that appearances are nothing more than costumes. Varys lifts an arm in an invitation to walk.

"There is one matter that I came to specifically address with you, Lady Stark," Varys makes a sound of sudden recollection. "If I'm not mistaken our mutual friend, Petyr Baelish, was last here in Winterfell. I wonder at his absence so far..."

Their walk continues. He knows. He must know. Sansa lets his fabricated wonder hang in the air. If he's mentioned it, there is little chance that he is not well aware of, or at least doesn't suspect, Littlefinger's fate. What else does he know? How long have his threads been in Winterfell?

A Winterfell guard passes by. "My Lady." He ignores Lord Varys.

"My lord, you do well to worry for your friend." They arrive at the head of the wooden stairs. "Mockingbirds don't fare well so far away from the temperate south—especially in Winter. Little birds often try to find heat in castle walls only to be found cold and dead." Varys looks almost...amused? Sansa looks over her shoulder after taking the first step down, "Again, welcome to Winterfell, my lord. If you'll excuse me, as you can imagine your arrival means there is much work I must attend to. "

Sansa barely hears the eunuch's parting. Her feet touch solid ground but she has never felt more...she struggles to name the feeling as much as she struggles to draw air. She almost uses what little of it is in her lungs to laugh at her pathetic state. Why am I behaving like this? Have I yielded to some kind of madness? Her dress is too constricting, the voices of the people walking from one task to another are too loud and...and...

Little birds. She needs to speak to Arya. Privacy is practically nonexistent if we don't get rid of Varys' 'little birds'.

Jon brought more than people to their home. Memories, shadows, and secrets trailed behind him when he arrived.

"Lady Sansa, are you alright?" Brienne, for it must be Brienne who discreetly offers her a steadying arm, asks her.

The arm goes unused. It wouldn't do to seem frail. Instead, Sansa says, "Please follow me. I must speak with my sister, privately, and I'll need someone to stand guard while I do so."

Sansa vaguely directs her body's movements in the direction of the Stark chambers. The guards posted at the end of the hallway bend slightly at the waist and move aside to let her pass. "You are relieved of your turn, go and get something to eat. Lady Brienne will stand guard for now."

Brienne takes their place and Sansa knocks on Arya's door; there is no answer. Arya's room is empty of little sisters. Dissuaded and in need of air she pivots and allows herself to quicken her steps to her own chambers. Brienne won't think little of her for showing a little weakness. She calls to her sworn shield, "Let me know if my sister comes. I will only be a minute in my own rooms."

"Yes, my lady."

She nearly smiles at the knight's formality. Sansa wouldn't mind if Brienne addressed her more familiarly. Unlike the concession she made to Tyrion, Brienne has earned her trust and right to call her by her name.

Her hand trembles slightly but the key turns the lock and the door swings in.

No.

I can't do this. Sansa takes a step back into the hallway. Not right now.

"Stay," he asks of her. Loud enough that she hears him, quiet enough that she is sure Brienne knows nothing of his presence in her rooms. She could leave and none would be the wiser.

Sansa was a lady at the age of three. A lady's courtesy is the only reason she takes one last painful draw of free air, steps into her room, and seals the exit.

#in which cersei starts a propaganda campaign against daenerys #and Sansa meets with the Spider #cersei lannister #sansa stark #varys #unreliable narrators #jonsa #jonsaff #players & pieces #new threats and threads

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whatzaoverwatch · 6 years

Text

Back from the Grave (Ko-Fi special)

A Halloween Ko-Fi donation by another anon! One who has been supporting me so much and I cannot thank them enough. If you wish to make a donation click here

Anything with Pumpkin!Reaper please

Female Pronouns

“My finest servant, what seems to trouble your soul?”

The Witch of the Wilds spoke, amused of the spaced out monster that looked out to the nightly horizon. A man mysteriously devoted to such a woman never set his sights on anything than repaying a debt. But as of recent, he had been distracted. Having to be called upon twice and even three times to hear the commands of the Witch. Wandering and silent in his own thoughts. But the Witch knew better and decided to confront him about this. His hollow gaze within the pumpkin head lowered to the fog of the graveyard as he finally cut his silence.

“I know better than to request anything of you,” He stated with a growl in his tone, “For my eternal servitude is only caused from your assistance from before. Freeing me from death in return of this form.”

“Yes, I am quite familiar of our contract. Why must you bring this up so suddenly?” She questioned, facing the monster with a curious smirk.

“I am regaining my memories from my former life,” He confessed, gazing over the tombstones with a grimace, “I thought I had left no one behind. Nothing to come from and nothing to seek. But, I have learned that there is one. One I left behind that I am beginning to regret.”

“Oh? I am surprised, since triggering such a memory would have to come from encountering a precious soul,” She states tilting her head until her cheek rested into her palm, “How did you discover this memory?”

“I found her grave,” He spat out. Recalling his wandering until he came upon a name he a longed forgotten, “[Name], she was to be my wife. But then I was nearly taken by death.”

“Your death was centuries ago Reaper, her death is inevitable.” He trembled slightly. Recalling your sweet face and voice as if it was yesterday. For once, he almost felt a heartbeat in his soul.

“She died, probably believing I was waiting for her on the other side.” He hissed, the glow in his head almost fuming red in anger. Trying to compose his form in front of his master. She tsked softly, raising her hand to caress the side of the pumpkin head.

“So the monster does have a heart. But clinging to such raw emotions will lose your focus. Would you desire for me to rid of these memories?” She was surprised when he grabbed her wrist, pulling the gloved hand away with a mighty grip. He towered over the Witch.

“No, I want to see her. I do not want to forget about her.” She blinked in surprise by her servant’s request.

“I beg your pardon?” Questioning his words as his grip became rough. Nearly causing her to snatch her hand away.

“I will continue my servitude towards you. Fulfill the vengeance and chaos you wish to display upon the mortals. But I will no longer stand by your side if you don’t bring her back for me.” She scowled at his demanding tone.

“I do not simply rid of my contracts Reaper, you are bound to me for all eternity.” He pressed her against the wall with a mighty force. A growl seeping out of the heat of his head.

“Then find another lackey to take my place that will do as well as I.” She could and would if she desired, but he was too strong of an ally to just simply dispose of. Averting his eyeless glare, she merely frowned.

“You know the consequences of bringing back the dead. She will not be the same as she was before.” His grip loosened as he stood up straight.

“I do not care, I want to at least hold her one last time.” He stepped away from the Witch, who pondered at the request. Pulling out her book and flipping through the ancient text. Stepping around the servant with a hum.

“There is a way to bring her back. It will take some time,” She stated giving some hope to the Reaper, “You have already devoted to my cause so well, I couldn’t deny such a simple request. Consider it a gift for your servitude.”

He kneeled before her, lowering his head as if she was a Queen.

“I am eternally grateful to you.”

It took some strings and favors, but the Witch of the Wilds fulfilled her end of the bargain. Having the mad doctor Junkenstein himself dig up the grave of the lost bride. He assembled all the tools necessary to the request. It wasn’t as if the doctor had a choice, for he owed the Witch so much after bringing life into his creation, among other monstrosities in waiting. Questioning the servant if he desired anymore additional parts to the corpse, which the Reaper downright refused. You did not need any more spare limbs or skin upon you, you were simply perfect. For even a boned corpse, you were still extravagant.

The Summoner also bestowed her powers for the rebirth. Being a close ally to The Witch even before his time, she was willing to spare a few moments on this task. A dragons power was never to be doubted, especially one of the Summoner. Her flames empowering the body to regain some of your skin and flesh. It wasn’t as if you were dead so suddenly, but now you had a form that gave you the strength to move and speak.

Then it was the Witch’s turn. Setting the corpse upon the altar as the Reaper waited on the side. Awaiting for the woman to do her work. He had seen countless powers from the enchantress, but he would always be invested in the power of resurrection. The ability that brought him back, among several others. Now you were to be given life once again. Almost pulling back on the deal, to have your soul rest in peace. But he needed to see you. Watching you smile and speak once again. Now under the bond of the Witch of the Wilds. The moon held high in the night sky, waiting for the Witch to begin her spell. Resting her hand above your decaying bosom, she searched for the faded soul within you. He could sense it, a part of you that stayed in this world. In the hopes that maybe one day, he would return for you. The soul hovered over your body, mixed with darkness with your eternal slumber. The Witch’s hand whisked around the soul, dousing it in her magic in a faded yellow. A spark flicked within and her hand rose up to the sky.

“My servants never die!” She called to the night sky as light was brought upon your form.

Coursing through your veins as every bit of you was rebuilding itself. Piece by piece of your body was brought new life. Bringing the blood into your system, the air into your lungs, the beating of a once dead heart. Then the light was gone, The Witch stepped away to hold her energy after disposing of her magic. He looked over at her in question as she gripped her broom.

“…Give her a moment, she has been asleep for quite some time.”

After a moment of silence, you suddenly gasped for air. Eyes blown wide open as you were moving once again. He quickly approached your side to take your hand. Holding it cautiously as you gained your stability. Your body frail and small to the clothes you were buried in. Bits and pieces of your bone and flesh exposed from the parts that couldn’t be salvaged. Body quivering in fear to the question of who awoken you in your permanent slumber. At the moment, you were just gasping for air, trying to remember how to live.

“Breathe mi Alma…breathe.” He told you, his soothing words coming in contrast to the pumpkin head he wore. You looked around for any source of familiarity as you suddenly fixated your gaze onto him.

“G-Gabriel is tha- AAAH!” You let out a shriek as you gazed upon his form. Seeing nothing but a man with a smiling jack o lantern on his head. A mysterious glowing light peeking from within as he stared at you. Scooting away to nearly the end of the alter you held your own hand in fear.

“Mi Alma…mi luna, [Name]…it’s me.” He whispered, trying to approach you with open arms.

You reminded him of his name. The name he threw away when taking upon his title as the servant to the Witch of the Wilds. Remembering how you sweetly called to him whenever he was about to leave or return. The soft memories of light being exposed in the darkness. Having some relief that you recognized his voice, but the pained reality of his form making him realize the problem of this arrangement. You blinked owlishly at him, trying to find any indication that he was Gabriel. He turned to the Witch who gave a knowing look. She expected this sort of result, but to a much darker turn. Maybe she thought that you would’ve went hysterical and she would’ve to end your life once more. But he was still hopeful, if you held at least one thing to your death then you had a chance of surviving normally. He was about to give up when you showed nothing but fear, until you reached over past his hand and towards his face. Running your fingers across his curved head.

“G-Gabe?” You whispered with a cold touch. Much contrast to the heat of his light as he placed a hand above yours. Keeping you steady as he provided you with the warmth that your body would continue to lack, “W-What happened to you? I thought you…people thought you were dead.”

“I know…it’s just-“

“He has been serving me.” The Witch pipes in. Grabbing your attention as you look at her in surprise.

“I-It’s you…The Wild of the Wilds,” She seemed amused about being recognized as you shuffled closer to the Reaper, “I heard stories…that you took souls and struck deals with anyone you came across.”

“Quite true. Although I am more than just a folk tale,” Humming as she pointed her broom towards the Reaper, “you see, your beloved here has been at my side since the moment he passed from your world. Returning back by my powers in exchange for serving me. He has made the request of having you returned to him after all these years.”

“Years? H-How long has it been? Wait…” You looked to him with a look of concern, “I…I died…I should be dead.”

“It’s been centuries,” He told you, relaxing you with a gentle touch, “there is a lot for you to take in, and I will explain it all for you.”

“All in due time. But first,” The Witch brought herself over to tilt your chin up to look into her sapphire gaze, “I expect the same from you as my servants partner. If you wish to live and stay by his side you shall do as I ask. A proper exchange wouldn’t you say?”

You looked over to Gabriel, taking in all the changes towards him that he had endured. Recalling before you died wanting to do anything to see him again. A twisted fate this had turned out to be, but getting exactly what you wanted. Turning back to the Witch you nodded.

“As long as I stay by his side.” The Witch smiled wickedly as she pulled away from the both of you.

“As I expected, I shall leave you two to catch up.” She chimed, stepping out of the room.

Leaving the Reaper and you to settle under the moonlight. You looked over to him, watching his head follow to where the Witch departed. You weren’t able to see any emotion, but you knew something troubled him. Slowly placing a hand over his, you watched his attention draw back towards you.

“Are you alright?” You asked. He gazed into your eyes, seeing the faint colour within them that he dreamt of since finding your grave. Reaching up to tuck a short strand of your hair behind your ear, he cupped your jawline with a sigh.

“I will be…now that you are here.” He admitted, pulling you into a surprising embrace. Settling in the reality that you were here, with him for all eternity. You embraced him back with the little energy that you had, nestling into his warmth.

“Gabriel…I missed you.” He stroked your hair, feeling the faint tears from your eyes staining his coat.

“I missed you too [Name],” Pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. He wasn’t able to kiss you, not with any lips to use, so this was the next best thing, “I love you, in our old lives and right now.”

Being lifted in his arms, you giggled slightly as you two shared your dance under the moonlight. Finally feeling whole again after so long.

“Death will not do us part now.”

#overwatch #overwatch scenarios #overwatch imagines #overwatch au #reaper #reaper x reader #gabriel reyes #gabriel reyes x reader #pumpkin!reaper #witch mercy #also extra cameos of some other favs #overwatch x reader

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shannaraisles · 6 years

Text

In Marcher Fields - Chapter 21

Poppy Hawke was never the daughter her mother wanted, the sister her twin preferred, the hero Kirkwall desired. They do not see the woman who stands between them and the chaos that threatens. No one takes the time to look, until she crosses the path of a certain Knight-Captain with demons of his own to battle …

[Read on AO3]

9:42 Dragon, Late Drakonis

The journey back to Skyhold was oddly subdued. Despite the victory, the Inquisitor and her inner circle were very aware of what had been lost to ensure that victory. Everyone was very careful around Poppy as the army made its slow way back toward the Frostbacks. Thus, when Cullen announced that he and his wife would catch up with them in a day or two and drew her away toward the town of Val Firmin, no one argued.

"Why are we stopping here?" she asked as they rode into the town together, but all he gave her was a mysterious glance, almost a teasing glimmer in those whiskey-warm eyes of his.

Val Firmin was a jewel, she had to admit. Built on a sloping hill overlooking Lake Celestine and the Imperial Highway, it sparkled in the gathering dusk as torches and candles were lit to hold back the night. The Chantry dominated the top of the hill, as many chantries did in Orlais, but that was not where Cullen was leading her. He drew her to a quiet district, to a neat little inn, claiming her hand in his own with an encouraging smile to lead her inside. A few words to the innkeeper, and they were sitting down to a hot meal together in a corner of the taproom while a room was prepared above them.

"Why are we here?" Poppy asked him again, curiosity overpowering the faint numbness of grief that had overshadowed everything in the past days and weeks.

"Am I not allowed to gift my wife with comfort and privacy every now and then?" Cullen countered, the sheer force of suspicious innocence in his expression drawing a weary smile from her in return.

"Cullen. I'm fine."

"You don't have to be fine, Poppy." He reached across the table, enfolding her hand within his grasp. "Not with me."

She shook her head, her smile regretful, letting her thumb stroke over his knuckle. "I don't know how to not be fine," she murmured back to him. "I've always been the one everyone else leans on."

"Lean on me," he told her, raising her hand to press a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

"I don't know how," she whispered hopelessly.

Cullen smiled tenderly at her, turning her hand to kiss her palm. "Let me show you."

How could she refuse? She had been strong for him. And, despite her protests, there had been occasions when she had leaned on him in the past. She knew he would look after her, wrap her bleeding heart in his love and hold her until the pain eased away, however long it took. She knew she needed it; she needed to feel the pain and let it pass through her before it congealed and turned her bitter in its wake. Alex wouldn't want that. Not even her mother would have wanted grief to change her into a bitter parody of herself. Leandra may not have been the mother she would have liked, but she had loved her eldest daughter, in her own way.

Hand in hand, Cullen drew his wife to their reserved room in the quiet tavern above the taproom, where a fire was lit in the hearth, the light dancing over the surface of the steaming bath set before the fire itself. The air smelled of honeysuckle, and for the first time in what felt like an age, Poppy actually smiled without being prompted. Honeysuckle. The oil she used on her hair and skin for preference, and somehow Cullen had convinced the innkeeper to infuse the bath with that same oil. He caught her smile, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand, and pulled her across the room to gently divest her of her travel-stained clothing.

Only when she stood bare in front of him, tired eyes watching his gaze flicker over her skin, did he pull his own mantle from his shoulders, shaking his jerkin away and rolling up his shirt sleeves. Then he pulled her into a gentle embrace, callused hands soft against her skin, reveling in the sensation of an embrace that did not include leather or plate or weapons. He waited for her to relax, until he heard the faintest hitch in her breathing, and bent to lift her into the bath, easing her down into the steaming water as she shuddered through her aching hurts.

The water was just hot enough to sting, the heat sinking into her bones, forcing her muscles to relax as Cullen guided the cloth over her skin, the soap into her hair, working the lather in until she lolled in the bath. His hands were still chilly, thanks to the lyrium withdrawal, a pleasant counterpoint to the heat that seeped into her. Each pass of the cloth was punctuated with a gentle kiss to her shoulder; the rinsing of her hair was done so gently she might almost have been a small child in his hands. And she knew he had learned to do this for her. Somehow he had learned to wash hair and skin without scrubbing or becoming impatient, just for her. How had he known he would need these skills? How long had he been quietly dreading the day when she would be the last of her bloodline to stand?

When he lifted her out of the bath to dry her down, she tried to still his hands.

"You don't need to -"

"Poppy."

He paused, curling his palm to her jaw, meeting her eyes with fierce certainty that made her melt a little inside. What had she done to deserve a man who loved her like this?

"I know I don't need to," he told her softly. "I want to."

She actually laughed - just a gentle huff of amusement, but it was a genuine laugh, a sound that lit up his eyes with relieved affection as he rubbed the water from her skin and hair.

"You are impossible to argue with these days," she murmured fondly, smiling as he leaned in to kiss her.

"I learned from the best," he answered, letting the damp towel fall only to wrap her in the warmth of a blanket and lift her into his arms once again.

Poppy sighed, strangely contented as he settled in the wide armchair in front of the fire, holding her curled up on his lap, She nestled into him, her forehead tucked into the crook of his neck, and just ... let herself be. She could hear the crackle of the fire, the rattle of hooves and wheels over the cobbles outside, the rumble of conversation from the taproom below; closer to, she was aware of the sigh of Cullen's breath, and the gentle beat of his heart. And slowly, she became aware of something more.

Cullen was singing.

"Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee all through the night ... guardians shall the Maker send thee all through the night ..."

An old Fereldan lullaby, a song her father had sung to her when she was small and could not sleep. When shadows had threatened her peace and nightmares had haunted her young mind, Malcolm Hawke would kneel beside his children's beds and sing this lullaby to them as sparkling lights danced on his fingers, his low voice a promise that he would always be there to guard them against the fears of the night.

"... soft the drowsy hours are creeping, hill and dale in slumber sleeping ... I, my loved ones' watch, am keeping all through the night ..."

She remembered snuggling down into her blankets with Alex as their father sang; remembered the nights when Bethany would join them, and Carver, too, the four Hawke siblings protecting each other against the nightmares that might come for them. Through the years they had dropped away, one by one ... Father, Carver, Bethany, Mother, Alex; all gone ahead to a place that had to be better than the world that had hurt them so badly, and only Poppy remained.

"Hark, a solemn bell is ringing clear through the night ... thou, my love, art Maker's hand winging home through the night ..."

But not alone. No, she was not alone, not abandoned. Despite her grief, she had love still, and hope. As Alex had said, she had a future. She had Cullen, her husband; Varric, her friend. She could gather new friends around herself as she had done once before, build a family from them to cushion her against the loneliness of knowing her own kin were lost. She was loved, and that made all the difference.

"Thedas dust from off thee shaken, soul immortal shalt thou awaken ..."

Curled in the arms of the man she loved, bathed in firelight, wrapped in gentle affection, her bleeding heart began to heal, secure in the knowledge that she would never again be alone.

"... with thy last dim journey taken home through the night."

#in marcher fields #poppy hawke #cullen rutherford #cullen x f!hawke #cullen x poppy #hurt/comfort #mild angst #fluff #grief/comfort #healing

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thedcdunce · 5 years

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First Born

“You treat me... as a thing you understand. But I am not that. Left to die in a desert, condemned by those that created me. Left... as nothing. It took me seven thousand years... to understand... only nothing lasts forever. Mother! Father! I understand now... I am nothing!” - First Born

Aliases:

Crippler of Souls

Gender: Male

Height: 7′ 6″

Weight: 375 lbs (170 kg)

Hair: Black

Race: God of Olympus

Powers:

Animal Empathy

Olympian Physiology

Magic

Linguistic Assimilation

Weaknesses:

Monstrous Appearance

Power Limitation

Universe: Prime Earth

Parents:

Zeus; father

Hera; mother

Marital Status: Single

Occupation: God of Nothing

First Appearance: Wonder Woman Vol 4 #13 (December, 2012)

Last Appearance: Wonder Woman Vol 4 #35 (November, 2014)

Powers

Animal Empathy: He could control hyenas as a baby to bring him food.

Olympian Physiology

Immortality

Superhuman Strength: He has claimed that his fists are capable of leveling mountains.

Invulnerability: He was able to crawl though the Earth's crust despite the heat and pressure.

Accelerated Healing

Energy Absorption: After being burnt by Apollo he was able to dismember veins from his body to use as tentacles that drain life from others, up to and including the Gods of Olympus.

Magic: After being burnt by Apollo's explosion and taking the throne of Olympus for himself, the First Born was capable of using magic to transform the entirety of Mount Olympus into a fleshy construct of itself. Furthermore, he is capable of opening a portal to the pit of the abyss, through which to imprison others.

Divination: The First Born is able to view other locations through a large pool of blood, as well as share that vision with others.

Teleportation: The First Born is capable of transporting others through blood.

Linguistic Assimilation: He can learn a language by eating someone's brain.

Weaknesses

Monstrous Appearance: In the aftermath of the death of Apollo, the First Born's form was little more than a walking corpse -- naked, bald, and pockmarked.

Power Limitation: The strongest of the First Born's powers are only accessible if he has control of the throne of Olympus.

History

The First Born was the first son of Zeus and Hera, and later an enemy to Wonder Woman.

Iron

The true origin of the First Born is a secret held by the Gods of Olympus. According to them, the First Born was the very first child of Zeus and Hera. On the day of his birth, a prophecy was recited that some day he would sit upon the throne of his father with the rest of the family as corpses around him. To prevent this from coming to pass, Zeus ordered a witch to kill the baby. Hera pleaded with the witch for mercy and instead she left the the baby in a velt in Africa, to fend for itself.

Using its nascent power, he commandeered a pack of hyenas to bring it food. He grew to adulthood, and became strong. He eventually grew into a giant man and learned of his heritage. He sired a army of Human-Hyena hybrids to take control of countless civilizations and slew a dragon to gain special armor. He eventually tried to take over Olympus only for Poseidon to wipe out his army with a tidal wave and Zeus to bury him beneath the Earth. His armies were then taken by Hades.

Seven thousand years later, after the disappearance of his father, he broke free of the Earth's crust in Antarctica and was greeted by his half sister Cassandra and her group of scientists. He ate one of the scientists brains to learn modern English, then lets her join him in his goal of taking over Olympus despite the efforts of the gods, especially Hades and Poseidon's forces. Ultimately, Poseidon swallowed the the duo whole.

War

In the belly of Poseidon, the First Born and Cassandra were forced to make a deal with the sea god in his true home. Poseidon would return First Born's weapon and allow him to overtake Mount Olympus in exchange for leaving the sea and Hell to its current rulers. Naturally, the First Born refused at first, but was forced to agree when it became clear that if he did kill Poseidon, he would be forever trapped within the god's corpse. The pact sealed in blood, Poseidon acknowledged that the throne of Olympus could not be won without the last born, Zeus's final and true heir, guarded by the last Amazon who Poseidon knew to be Wonder Woman.

Going to London with Cassandra in search of Zeke, the First Born was met by Lennox, Zola, and his mother, Hera, and engaged Lennox in combat. Soon after, when Wonder Woman entered the fray, Orion followed by Boom Tube, and brought all present to New Genesis. However, Lennox was forced to stay behind in order to do so, so as to allow a Boom Tube that the First Born was holding open to close. Ultimately, the First Born managed to destroy Lennox, taking up residence on the throne in Westminster Abbey after having sent the city of London into burning chaos before Orion, Zola, Zeke, and Wonder Woman had managed to return, even gaining the aid of War. In the battle, the First Born attempted to kill War, but Wonder Woman impaled Ares to harm the First Born instead, robbing him of the chance to take up the mantle of god of war before he was knocked unconscious by Zola from behind.

Flesh

Captured by the Gods of Olympus and taken to Mount Olympus, the First Born was tortured, by Dionysus and Apollo, by having his internal organs eaten while he was still alive. Apollo had claimed ownership of the First Born when offered him by Wonder Woman after the First Born's defeat. Eventually, the First Born broke free of his bonds, and began to choke Apollo, the latter having been trying to humiliate him by forcing him to swear fealty. His own sheer hatred allowed him to overcome the searing heat of Apollo's powers, and he claimed to be the only one who deserved the power of Olympus, eager to not only remove the "seat warmer" Apollo, but desiring to have the Gods of Olympus, one by one, until he was the only one left. However, this stated goal allowed Apollo enough motivation to cause a massive explosion and kill himself, destroying the tower on which they stood.

Surviving the explosion that took Apollo's life, the First Born took it upon himself to claim the throne of Olympus itself. Draining Artemis near to her death with his newfound powers, the First Born declared himself "nothing," with the meaning that he would last forever. Although Hera was restored to her immortal self by Apollo's sacrifice, she and all others present were forced to escape to find a new army to fight the First Born, bringing all present with her to Themyscira in the hopes of using the Amazons of Themyscira as said army, led by Diana as the new God of War.

Bones

Having used his newfound power over the heavens to transform Mount Olympus into a fleshy, nightmarish tower, the First Born kept Cassandra as his slave, starving her until he fed her companion Doctor Cheever to her for his own amusement at her nausea, also reminding her that he would eat her as well if she displeased him. Not long after, he came to the realm of Hades, extinguishing the candles on the god's head to effectively kill him. As a result, the souls of the underworld were released to the mortal realm, with no one left to rule the Underworld.

With Death conquered, the First Born set his sights on Life in the form of Demeter. With Strife's prodding, he came to the conclusion that he would want a wife with whom to share his kingdom, rather than rule over nothing at all. To that end, when he attacked Demeter and was faced with Diana and her new Hephaestus-forged armaments, he capture Wonder Woman as she allowed the others to escape, bringing her to Mount Olympus.

Forcing Diana to kneel before him, the First Born asked her to join him, despite their core oppositions -- her devotion to love and inspiration, his to destruction. To change her mind, he decided to destroy that which she held most dear. Sending his army, along with Cassandra and the Minotaur to attack Themyscira, the First Born reasoned that even if his children were killed by the Amazons, he would make more with Wonder Woman, despite her revulsion of the prospect. With her continued denial of his advances, the First Born stabbed Wonder Woman in the gut and left her to bleed out as he transported himself through the same blood pool to Themyscira. Though he fought alongside his army and defeated Orion, seeking to humiliate him by having him wear a dog collar, the First Born was driven back by Milan on Orion's Astro-Harness, with Artemis and Orion brought back to Mount Olympus through a Boom Tube, where Poseidon had claimed the throne of Olympus in the First Born's brief absence.

Upon the First Born's return to Olympus, he impaled Hermes on a spear with his claim to kill them all. Upon Strife noting that he had been losing the battle in Themyscira and had come to Olympus to get a secret weapon, meaning he was not as unstoppable as he claimed, he ensnared Zola in his veins. As he opened a hole into the abyss into which to throw Zeke, the First Born demanded that the Minotaur kill the unconscious Diana, then in a coma due to blood lose from her wounds. At the "less-than-man"'s reluctance to kill the woman who had spared his life, the First Born murdered him personally with the Minotaur's own horn impaled in the chest. In the ensuing battle the First Born was hurled into the abyss by Wonder Woman, with the Lasso of Truth, thereby losing rulership of Olympus to Zeke. Wonder Woman claimed it was a measure of "tough love," and hoped that in another seven thousand years, he would learn the real meaning of submission, of power in the strength of others.

#first born #crippler of souls #gods of olympus #wonder woman #dc #dc comics #thedcdunce

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