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ayatai · 3 months

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I Will Always Love You, My Son

Or, babies try choco chip pancakes for the first time, on their first birthday no less!

The excitement of the day was winding down, now. All that was left for the twins' birthday was dinner, choco-chip pancakes for the first time, and one last gift before bed. Alexander and Rosella both had a couple pancakes each, each with whipped cream and maple syrup. The two of them were hesitant at first, until they got a taste of the syrup. Then, as babies must, they went to town. Young Alexander, having a newfound taste for choco-chip pancakes, slammed his head into the small stack, getting bits of whipped cream everywhere. Rosella, having a refined taste as the older (by seven minutes) sibling, demolished the whipped cream first before doing the same. Graham and Valanice both stifled laughter at their antics. It was sticky, sweet, and gooey fun for the small family.

Once the pancakes were more or less demolished Graham and Valanice descended on the twins with wipes, to their displeasure. This displeasure was quickly forgotten, of course, with their final gift of the day. This being two small and fluffy plush cats. Alexander got the black plush cat, with little orange eyes, while Rosella got the white plush cat, with shining green eyes. The twins refused to let them go even during the final bit of playtime they got. Babbling happily while swooshing around their kittys, weaving a story known only to the two of them. Or even during all of the bedtime rigamarole. The customary story, the last lap around the room and, of course, the final kiss goodnight from both parents. King Graham and Queen Valanice were unaware, as they planted a last goodnight kiss on Alexander, that this would be the last time they'd bid him goodnight for nearly 17 years.

#bwahaha i feel this in my soul #we started solids with littleAyataiNo3 a few weeks ago and its fun but omg the mess and cleaning up #(ironically his favorite so far has been pancake strips. no chocolate chips or maple syrup though)#alex and rosella actually getting to play together!!!#but then not again :(#for some reason i was actually thinking this was an au where he gets to stay #so the ending totally got me #love love these #king's quest

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ayatai · 3 months

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Unrepentant

As Prince Alexander slumped over, green eyes fluttering shut... fading, the old man who had done this cried out in triumph and jubilation even as he was dogpiled by all of the guards in that room. Later, when he was dragged before King Graham, despite the newly broken arm, he was stilling grinning fiercely.

"Why have you done this? What did you do to him?" Graham asked. His face was stony, for all that he was barely hiding fresh anguish. It would have to be enough.

The old man only said, "What I have been too weak to do before this."

"What is that supposed to mean."

"I am bound to speak truth for all that I cannot say what you wish to hear directly." The old man stood tall despite the firm, honestly harsh grip, held on him. His brown eyes shining bright as copper.

"Do you wish to speak truly on why you did what you did to my s- the prince?" If he got sentimental now, the mask would crack and then he would be of no use to anyone.

"Of course I do, but I cannot be direct." The old man looked thoughtful for a moment. "How about this, then... a riddle. Or, a puzzle as you would say." He muttered something under his breath that sounded like "He always mentioned your fondness for them in his rants, after all."

Graham could have been carved from ice. "Speak your riddle."

"First, some context. It is said that the truth of a person is seen through their eyes. That no matter what form they take the eyes remain the same. My eyes are brown as they will always be, for instance." He took his time speaking, now that the excitement was over the body was exacting retribution. "Your son as a babe, what color were his eyes?"

"Brown, why?" Like caramel, like maple, like bronze newly polished in his joy over his first choco-chip pancake. The syrup and patches of whipped cream all over his small face.

Brown eyes, sharper than any mirror pierced into Graham. "And what color are they now?"

#oooohh yes more please!#very intrigued!#thinking about what this could be hmmm #kings quest

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ayatai · 4 months

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nervous habits around the castle, post kq3

#love it!#headcanon: he doesn't really like being in her room much because its always such a mess #and it makes him anxious #but she gets upset if anyone moves her things because then she can't find anything #dusting and such is fine tho #kings quest

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ayatai · 4 months

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I was gonna do more but I will probably do em tomorrow

For now, Triumph figment

#Eeep this is so adorable!!#Such a cute crossover of two of my very favorite games #kings quest #Psychonauts

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ayatai · 6 months

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My Time At Sandrock

I revewied the premiere Sand Simulator, My Time At Sandrock. It has consumed most of my week.

#do i have enough free time for this game?#no #but we sure are trying #not king's quest

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ayatai · 6 months

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pumpkin

halo from lily-fox

(20)

#kings quest #So cute!!#Have been loving these!

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ayatai · 11 months

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The Princess of Daventry, Rosella, is atop the mountain in the far corner of Daventry. She is waiting for the fearsome hydra to eat her, or, for a person to save her and slay the hydra. She is not holding out much hope for that.

Or: I have written some delectable King's Quest fanfic. The first part is under the cut. :)

Being tied up on a pole waiting for a hydra to eat her alive was the second worst thing Rosella had ever suffered through. The first, unfortunately, would always and forever be the shovel talk her father had attempted to give to her first crush a few years back. It was incredibly embarrassing on all sides and her father had to refer back to a scrap of parchment several times, and by the end she wanted to just go ahead and die. ...Even if during it he looked more energetic than he had in months.

It was uncomfortable, and cold, and the hydra’s roars were not pleasant to listen to. Then a storm suddenly formed. The wind howled. And thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. Lightning struck frighteningly close to her, and she screamed from the loudness of it. It struck again, and the hydra shrieked in pain. The hydra readied itself to take flight, but then lightning struck again. And again. With each strike the hydra shrieked again in greater and more terrible tones than before. Until it thumped against the earth from a final strike and became frightfully still. The freak storm had killed it. Well then, that was one of her problems solved. But now she had a new one.

“Hello?” someone asked suddenly, “Is, Is someone here? I heard growling and thumping, so I used my bottled storm and then I heard a scream.” Shuffling, in the sudden silence. The storm had gone.

Well then! There’s a solution to her being tied up. “Here! I’m over here, by the edge of the cliff. I thought that the hydra would have been my end! I need help getting untied.” She called back.

Slowly, from around the bulk of the hydra’s collapsed form, emerged an, admittedly, handsome young man. If you ignored how it looked like he hadn’t seen a bath in weeks. His clothes were tattered, and he had tied around his face some sort of ripped cloth that, even from this distance, she could tell were of far finer quality than his clothes. He had a hand touching the hydra. “Uh, I’m going to need you to tell me what direction to walk in order to do that. I don’t want to fall down a cliff again.” He started to make uncertain steps towards… the entirely wrong direction.

“You’ll need to go more left, oh savior mine.” She called. He turned in more or less the right direction, “That works,” started towards her, and when he drew near she gave him some further instruction. “You’re just a few steps now, really, and then you’ll be able to untie the ropes. What is your name? How did you end up on this mountain? Wait, did you say fall down a cliff again? Are you blind!?” She immediately winced at the last question, as it was rather insensitive of her. Are you blind? How rude of her. She was mentally castigating herself when the young man’s seeking hands caught her arm. They were rough and callused.

“Uhm, My name is Gwydion.” He faltered and then continued on. “I’m not really sure how I ended up on this mountain but there was a cave at some point, and.” He paused. “Yes. It’s a… recent development.” He cautiously feels out the rope. “I have no idea how to undo this, but I think I have a knife?” He starts to rifle through what seems to be an entirely unreasonable amount of pockets and then yelps. “I found it.” He pulls out an old knife and wavers. “Hm.”

The cloth on the front of his face was visibly stained and wet. It was clearly tied very tightly. The smell was indescribable. “Perhaps you could give me it and I cut the ropes?” Rosella allowed some faint humor to tint her voice, “I think I might have better luck with cutting the rope, Gwydion.” What was under that cloth? Gwydion, after a few moments of careful fumbling, pressed the knife into her hand and then stepped back. After a minute she was free. “Thank you.” She pressed the knife back into his hand. “Why don’t we head down the mountain and to the castle. I am sure that we will be able to figure out a suitable reward for you.” He cocked his head in confusion. Reading this on what she could see of his face, she elaborated “I am the princess after all.”

Gwydion startled, badly, and if it were not for Rosella catching his arm he would have pitched himself down the cliff. “Really? I have never see- been in the presence of royalty.” he course corrected himself quickly, maybe being blind was a recent development. Rosella started to walk, keeping a grip on his arm. He stumbled to keep up. They did this in silence for a few minutes. Rosella warned him of sudden drops or large amounts of rocks in the way. He continued to stumble a bit as she led him like this. He broke the silence, and did so very quietly. “...Could you lead me in a slightly different way? It’s just- I fear that if I were to fall I would take you with me, and the way you hold my arm.. it is awkward to walk like this.” He then ducked his head, as though in preparation for recrimination, though she could not understand why.

Rosella stopped walking to think about this. “Maybe if we held hands, and I walked a little slower?” She offered. He nodded his head and held out his hand. She took it. They started walking again, slower. There were a few awkward, nearly heart stopping moments, but they managed to get down the mountain within an hour or two. “The walk from here should be much easier from here.” She said, looking back at Gwydion. Whenever she had looked back at him while they climbed down he had looked worse and worse. She frowned. “Are you okay?” His hand was clammy, and his face was creased in what was likely concealed pain.

“I’m fine, …though I’d like it if we kept holding hands. I haven’t been this worry free about falling in a while.” He said. That first part was the worst lie she had ever heard, but okay. I guess.

“Okay.” They continued walking for a while, though Gwydion had started listing and stumbling. She stopped after a particularly bad one. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Rosella asked worriedly. “It’s just, you seem to be doing poorly. Are you hurt? The castle isn’t too much farther, so I could call a cart.”

Gwydion swayed where he stood. “I’m fine.” He insisted. “Look, I can make it to the castle fine.” As though to prove this he let go of her hand, took one step forward, and immediately crumbled to the ground.

#:O Manny what do you do now!?#and Gwydion you are not fine!#but loving and looking forward to more!#king's quest

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ayatai · 11 months

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A small list of my Alexander/Gwydion headcanons, in no particular order, for the purposes of my amusement and reference for future words. Gonna put this all under a cut cause it gets LONG baby.

Before coming to Daventry, had little idea of what money is.

Or taxes. (Side headcanon: Manannan lived in Llewdor for like. Two reasons. The lack of people liable to take up pitchforks. And the lack of taxes. He does tax evasion. I can feel it.)

He does, however, know all manner of sewing, darning, etc. In order to keep his clothes functional. He snuck so many pockets in those clothes.

He is also quite fond of cooking... so long as there isn't an impatient wizard waiting on him.

Always, at all times, there is a little voice in the back of his mind keeping track of all of Mannanan's "rules," screaming at him whenever he breaks one. Even years and years after, the voice is still there.

He is somewhat of a fan of the many laws and addendums of Daventry, but only because they are more or less written clearly. With black and white, frank, consequences as to what happens when you break one. More or less. He is not a fan of the amount of them.

With Mannanananan, it was not so clear.

His name is like banana. Manananans not Alexanders. Bananananana.

Anyway, Alexander does really enjoy cooking and baking.

Once he gets used to being in Daventry, he spends his fair share of time at the bakery with the Feys (holding a rolling pin)

And the hobblepots too, for he also enjoys magic.

It's hard not to become fond of something you are naturally good at, after all.

He winds up with jars and jars filled with various insta storms or advanced icthamol or whitening potion and so on. Never know when something may come in useful off his shelves.

Speaking of shelves, he still hides things under his bed.

Important things.

He gets a concussion or a Kings Quest branded wisdom teeth extraction and, while still very loopy, tries to convince the rest of his family to go under the bed because then they will be safe and he won't find them.

It was both incredibly saddening and touching. And a bit funny too because then he tried to fight the mirror.

Now onto familial similarities!

Specifically things that ech familiarly between him and Graham.

Well. The pockets.

And the picking up of anything not nailed down or even possibly useful.

Falling down cliffs. (I'm sorry, but I'm going to do this to him at least twice. Rosella got all of the "don't fall of cliffs" part of the gene pool)

And asking rapidfire questions. It takes a lot to make him start asking them, but trust me he has a List and he Will use it, and once he starts verbalizing it's like looking back in time. But with a quieter version.

I think I'm plum out. I'm scraping the barrel. Out on a limb. Up a river, without a paddle. Down a cliff. Hung dry. In a hole with no rope. Donezo. Quitted. Kaput.

#king's quest #ooh always love hearing other interpretations/headcanons!!#love the loopy under the bed one so sad and sweet at the same time #that would make a great little ficlet!#love them all actually

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ayatai · 1 year

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An Old Acquaintance Part 2

Alexander wandered the Daventrian market green, searching for the perfect gift for his daughter. As much as she hated when she couldn’t accompany him on these trips to his homeland, she loved the surprises he would always bring back to her. Perhaps he did spoil her a bit much sometimes, but then, he couldn’t help but want her to have everything he hadn’t.

A small stand holding a variety of wooden carvings caught his eye. He wandered over; the vendor was busy conversing with another customer so he stood to one side as he looked, out of the way. Some carvings were in the shape of animals, and he reached toward a small dog, posed to be laying down, its tail curled up beside it. Dogs as the rest of the rest of the world thought of them were rare in the Green Isles, and his daughter had grown up instead used to the humanoid “guard dogs” that made up the majority of the castle’s guards. The four-legged ones fascinated her; he was fairly sure she would adore the little carving of one.

“Gwydion?”

He froze, one hand still held out as the back of his neck prickled at the name. A name he hadn’t heard in years, and yet it still seemed to turn his blood to ice. For a moment he could do nothing but focus on slamming up a mental barrier against a flood of emotions and memories.

When he was able to focus externally again a second later, he noticed the vendor still staring at him, surprise clear on his own face. A face Alexander vaguely recognized - but from where?

The tattoos visible on the older man’s arms suddenly awakened old memories. The gentle slapping of ocean waves against a wooden hull. The sharp taste of salty sea air. And the soft words of a sailor’s stories falling as steadily as the wood shavings did from his hands as he carved.

Kaiden. One of Captain Reid’s men, who had tricked him and would have sold him into slavery had he not escaped first.

Alexander flipped his hand over as he let the magic within him flow, a fireball starting to appear in his open hand. He’d used magic to protect himself the last time and he would do so again if need be.

His guard, sensing his distress, moved quickly to place himself between Alexander and the stall as he drew his sword.

“Easy, easy!” cautioned Kaiden as held up both hands. “If it’s Reid you’re concerned about, haven’t been with that rat in years. Just me now, sellin’ my carvings.”

Alexander glanced around. Other than a few onlookers who were staring at the sudden commotion, everything seemed normal. Certainly no signs of an ambush or anything else nefarious.

He let the fireball die out, but kept the magic flowing, ready to call it back at any second. He nodded at the guard, who sheathed his sword and stepped back, though he kept one hand on the hilt. Kaiden cautiously lowered his arms.

Heart still hammering, Alexander said, “So you’re a proper wood carver now. Pirate no longer?” The word pirate left a slight bitterness on his tongue; he held little fondness for those of the profession which had so nearly doomed his journey home.

“Left that long ago. Pretty soon after yer, uh… voyage with Reid, in fact.”

“Mmm. It’s Alexander now.”

Kaiden looked him over for a second. “New name, and you’ve grown. Took me a minute to remember where I knew you from.”

“Ten years will do that, I suppose.”

“Good to see ya, in all honesty. When we found yer trail headed over the mountains, was half-sure you wouldn’t be able to survive the trek, what with the cold and wild animals.” He paused briefly before continuing, “If you’ve got a few minutes, I always did wonder how exactly you managed to pull one over on Reid. And the fireball is… new…”

Alexander started to say no but paused. Kaiden had been one of the very few on that ship to treat him with any sort of respect or kindness. One of the first people to do so in his life, in fact. He found himself oddly drawn to the man who in other circumstances he might have called a friend. He nodded at the former pirate’s wares. “What about your stall?”

“Market’s closing soon anyhow. Won’t take me a minute to pack it all up.” He did so with practiced ease and efficiency, stowing the carvings securely in a crate. As promised it didn’t take him long.

Further down the green, tables had been set up amongst several large trees. The ones placed in the lengthening shadows were already occupied by others seeking relief from the heat, so instead they opted for one further out. While unshaded, it was also more private. A pleasant breeze started blowing in as they sat, keeping the bugs off and giving them a small taste of the rapidly approaching evening cool.

“So. Last time I saw ya was right when the lookout spotted Daventry. Next thing I know I’m waking up on the deck, ship adrift miles offshore. What on earth did ya do?”

“Sleeping spell. Reid took all my things when we left, but I shoved a bunch of pitch into the fire to make it smoke like crazy-”

Kaiden chuckled. “I remember; so that was you.”

“While everyone was running around worried about a fire, I slipped into Reid’s room and stole the sleeping powder back. Used it as soon as we were close enough to Daventry.”

“Clever,” said Kaiden, shaking his head slightly. “Reid really had no idea what he was getting himself into, huh? Would’ve been much better off just honoring yer agreement with ‘im.

He was spittin’ mad when he woke, let me tell you. And even more so when he realized you’d gone and dug up his chest. When we found yer tracks headed over the mountains he had half a mind to follow. Managed to convince ‘im you were too long gone by that point, though.”

“Thanks for that, then.”

“Eh - well, I had no desire to trek through snow, anyhow. Did leave his crew shortly after, though. Smugglin’ black market artifacts is one thing, but kids? Not what I signed up for. Besides, I’d gotten well enough on with my carving to make a livin’ with it anyhow.”

He stood and stretched. “Imma grab a drink right quick. You want one?”

Alexander shook his head. The conversation was interesting, and as far as he could tell Kaiden seemed to be exactly as he said, but he didn’t trust the man all that much.

Most of the non-food vendors had closed their stalls by now. As the crowd shifted to their end of the green, long lines were forming in front of the carts still selling food. The last of the empty tables had filled, leaving latecomers to spread out on the grass, or on blankets if they had them. Children weaved among the picnickers, playing tag or doing cartwheels, their yells punctuating the general hubbub of dozens of conversations occurring at once.

Someone had started lighting the torches ringing the area, fending off the encroaching darkness. Leaning back against the table behind him, Alexander let the noise simply wash over him, idly watching as the pool of warm light grew larger and larger as the man moved from torch to torch.

Seeing Kaiden again reminded him of so much he hadn’t thought about in quite a while. His thoughts drifted to Liliana’s tavern, where he had first stayed and worked right after freeing himself. The similar din of the common room there had seemed so loud back then, annoying and grating to ears more accustomed to quiet.

Ten years had changed so much. Even Kaiden seemed different - more open and talkative. Happier.

But then - the same could be same for himself, he supposed.

This train of thought was interrupted as Kaiden returned and settled back down on the bench, pointing his mug in the direction of Alexander’s guard.

“Daventry seems to have treated you well. You a lord now or somethin’?”

The question took Alexander by surprise; he was so used to everyone in Daventry knowing exactly who he was. Even after so long the story of his return was still widely told and celebrated.

“Or something; I haven’t properly introduced myself, have I? Formally, my titles are King Alexander of the Green Isles and Prince Alexander of Daventry.”

Belatedly he realized he could have timed the revelation better; Kaiden, who had just taken a sip of his drink, half choked on it. After he’d coughed enough to clear it out, he managed, “Seriously? Prince of - “

Alexander couldn’t help but find some slight amusement in the reaction, especially as he noted the moment of realization take over Kaiden’s face and the wood carver started laughing.

“Did hear somethin’ about a missing prince returned home several years ago, just never put two and two together. If Reid had had any idea, ha!

Well, then, good it all worked out for you. Sounds like you’ve got quite the stories of yer own to tell, now.”

Alexander nodded his head in assent, his mind going to his daughter. She wasn’t yet old enough to hear most of them yet, but she was growing quickly.

His guard approached. “Sorry to interrupt, Your Majesty, but we’d best head back up to the castle if you still want to make it in time for your parents’ dinner…”

“Yes, thank you, Aldric. Time got a bit away from me.”

“If you have just a moment more…” Kaiden said as he shuffled through the contents of his crate. “Ah, here it is. This is the one you were interested in, yes?” He held out the small dog carving.

Alexander nodded as he took it. “How much?”

“Nothin’. Least I can do, after my part in… well, you know.”

“Thanks,” replied Alexander. “I’m glad to have ran into you this afternoon.”

Night had fully fallen by the time they finished their goodbyes and wound their way back through the town and approached the castle gate. As he fiddled with the dog carving in one hand, he decided his statement had been more than mere politeness. It truly was good to hear how the former pirate had turned things around, and how he had looked out for Alexander even back then. Perhaps, after his daughter tired of playing with it, he might just keep the little carving for himself.

#ayatai writes #random thought wondering what happened to the pirates in kq3 #have one other random half-written story i'd like to finish before baby gets here and my brain is complete sleep-deprived mush but we'll see #changed avatar to the world of warcraft character this blog is named after #king's quest

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