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iwoszareba · 1 year

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Knight Commander as Companion

I decided that filling this could be a good way to explain Aqil's whole deal because he wouldn't be all that different as a companion.

template by @dragonologist-phd and you can find blank version here

Name: Aqil Meru son of Bashar Khay

Race: Kitsune

Class: Sorcerer/Oracle

(bloodline: Arcane; familiar: jerboa; mystery: Ancestor; curse: blackened)

Background: Osirion Historian

Appearance:

You can visually check out his character sheet here.

He is rather small in stature (5'3''/160cm) and slight in build but he more than makes up for it with his high charisma.

What remains true for both of his forms is his oracle curse: his left arm and leg look burned and he walks with a visible limp.

He always dresses in a combination of black and white as these are the colours of Nethys. He adds gold to the mix as a treat and wears earrings for special occasions.

If you asked what's the deal with his bag he would tell you that it was white when he bought it but pranksters got to it with fabric dye. He found it amusing that someone considered him dogmatic to the point where a colourful bag would bother him so he started to wear it as a statement.

Favored Weapon/Equipment:

Between his poor physical stats and oracle curse he is not meant for direct combat. But he owns a unique staff that boosts his magic. He also comes with his own bag of holding.

Top Skills: knowledge arcana, knowledge world, lore religion, perception

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

General Personality:

Very curious and energetic. Interest in magic is a given but choose any subject relating to humanities and he is on board to discuss it. Generally personable but can get on some people's nerves with his know-it-all and devil's advocate tendencies.

If you are in the mbti crowd he was designed as an ENTP.

What traits/values do they admire? pursuit of knowledge, magic, family, art and storytelling, faith and/or dedication, independence

What traits/values do they disapprove of? lack of curiosity, suppression of magic, idleness, nobles, big organisations, pointless cruelty

Are they affiliated with any deities?

Extremely Nethysian. Everything about him is entangled in it.

The arcane bloodline of his clan was started by Nethys himself when he granted an ounce of his power to the first Meru and turned her into an oracle. Since then every pure sorcerer born in the family is considered to be blessed by but also a tithe to the All-Seeing-Eye. Alongside coming of age in a special ceremony they are granted the same oracular powers and become connected to the previous Merus (now an outsider and favoured servant). Aqil is the seventh Meru and he is eager to prove that he is worthy of the name.

What do they think of their role in the Crusades, and of sharing the Commander’s Mythic powers? What are their reasons for joining the commander’s party?

He was sent there by his ancestor spirits and he is excited to be a part of the Crusade. Securing his legacy is a big goal for him and he hopes to achieve that by the Commander's side.

He is both suspicious of and fascinated by the mythic powers. He will very early tell you he does not think these powers came from any god, as someone who has been infused with raw divine power for ten years now he considers himself a bit of an expert on the matter.

Who are their friends among the other party members?

Lann: they have kinship in the areas of "care about your people" and "I will do anything to prove myself" but one of them is self-deprecating lawful, while the other is practiced confidence chaotic which makes them a funny pair

Woljif: they are two jokey boys who love telling stories!! also Aqil is genuinely impressed how much Woljif achieved with magic considering his haphazard education

Sosiel: he needs Sosiel, no one else wants to listen to his art history info dumps ;(

Trever: Aqil sees dualities as divine and Trever's story of being a paladin of Shelyn turned Hellknight is certainly a curious one. he hopes Trever will be able to reconcile them eventually

Arueshalae: he roots for her redemption. look at you rediscovering freedom of choice!! he also indulges Arue's interest in mortals because he is interested too and he loves to talk

Ember: he finds her magic fascinating especially considering how little Ember herself seems to understand what she is doing. he also likes to make up little fairy tales for her

What about rivals?

Regill: they are on the opposite sides of lawful-chaotic spectrum, that gets in the way quite a bit

Daeran: they are too similar and too different in uncomfortable ways. like funhouse mirror versions of each other. but they eventually develop a friendship

Camellia: Aqil dislikes nobles until proven wrong and she does nothing that would change his opinion. and then she makes things worse

Wenduag: she would hurt her own tribe if it meant more power for her and in Aqil's eyes that's a big no no >:(

Ulbrig: as a historian Aqil considers him fascinating, on personal level he even finds him likeable, but Ulbrig's hot takes about arcane magic are a lot to swallow

Are they on any councils? If so, what sort of advice do they give?

diplomacy and military

He can offer magical units and solving problems with magic. Other than that his advisory style is: hey let me use my history knowledge to tell you about cool ideas and tricks people pulled off in the past. I think this particular bit could apply to our situation, wanna try it?

Where do they hang out in Drezen? In the Abyss?

Not sure about the Abyss but in Drezen he hangs out with the Storyteller.

What are their idle animations?

I don't think most of these would work in the game proper but I'm just here to give you vibes.

- he untangles his bun, shakes his head a bit and redoes it. why? not sure. it's just as messy as it was before (tho he would make a proper bun with no hair in his eyes before battle or when he is working on something important. that's his serious mode)

- he picks up jerboa from his arm (her name is Ibi btw), puts her on the palm of his hand, pats her head a couple of times and then puts her back on his arm

- he rubs his cursed arm with his other hand and winces slightly

- he sometimes does the confused dog head tilt (true for both kitsune and human form)

- if it's really long idle time he would take out his simsimiyya and play it a bit. he holds the instrument with his left hand and plucks the strings with combination of his right hand and summoned mage hand

If they’re taken to Areelu’s lab, what is their dream?

You find him surrounded by his family, the atmosphere is full of joy and excitement. Then he is approached by a middle aged man and everyone stops talking. You see the resemblance in his features and realise it must be Aqil's father.

Bashar Khay: I keep hearing about your achievements, my boy. I thought it's high time to congratulate you.

Aqil: There is no need! Striving for greatness is what Nethys requires of all his faithful.

Bashar Khay: Even so I wanted you to know that we are all proud of you.

No…

I wanted to say that I’m very proud.

—

After the vision ends you can comment on it.

KC: I know it was just an illusion, but your family seems nice.

Aqil: (smiles wistfully) They are nice and shameless and strong and infuriating and oh so loving. All part of their charm.

KC: Really? Aren't you a little too old to do things for your dad's approval?

Aqil: (winces) You speak like someone who has never known the true bonds of a clan.

Do they advise the commander to abandon or keep their mythic powers?

general:

"I know I may be speaking heresy if I advise you against taking the power but the thing is… I also believe in freedom born out of questions and considerations. Power of this magnitude changes a person on a fundamental level. Destroys you and remakes you in its own image. So think carefully. Is this something you wish for yourself? If that is indeed your path then take the power and never look back.

But if you value the unaligned freedom that mortality provides, this is the moment to reclaim it."

aeon:

"You aren't truly considering becoming one with the "cosmic law"? The real Aeons have no other choice than being what they are but if you still have strands of mortality at your core you should know better than wanting to be… that."

Extra facts:

- confirming devil, demon, lich will cause a break up of his romance, he understands if this is the path you envision yourself in but it's not the kind of legacy he wishes for himself

- confirming aeon will cause a very salty break up "I guess the biggest anomaly was me thinking that we could understand each other. I will fix it straight away, your lawfulness!"

- if you go swarm he is super tasty because of all the magic inside him :) but as you devour him you feel deep inside your being that you now have a mortal enemy in his ancestor spirits :))

How/when do they join the Commander’s party?

Soon after you receive the title of Knight Commander you will be informed that an unknown man has arrived and was very insistent that he wants an audience with you. You get a different addition depending on who is still around.

Hulrun: Messenger will mention that the prelate thinks this individual is "highly suspect" and needs to be "dealt with" immediately.

Ramien: Messenger says that the Desnan priest spoke to the man already and thinks you should listen to what he has to say.

Chun Dawei: Messenger adds that the guard captain said that everything seems to be on the level but it's better to not let your guard down completely.

When Aqil introduces himself you can make a knowledge world check, if you pass it you identify him by clothes and accent as someone from Osirion, if you fail you just conclude he must be a foreigner.

In order to explain his situation he tells you about how he started receiving visions from Meru, his ancestor spirits. At first he was not clear on what they meant but when he recognised queen Galfrey herself he realised he was being shown events from the Worldwound and that he was asked to travel here. It was his intention to seek out the queen and to offer his services to her, but visions started to change recently and focused on you instead. With that he describes some events from act 1 as if he was there, including how you have dealt with the Ramien Hulrun conflict. You may express that you believe what he is saying or claim that he is probably lying and just gathered intel beforehand. Either way he gets to the point and says it's his belief that you are marked as an important figure in the events to come and he wishes to aid you. He does a little sales pitch about how he has both arcane and divine magic at his disposal which makes him an invaluable ally.

You can either accept him into your party or you can dismiss him if you prefer.

(if dismissed you can find him again in act 5 and hear what he has been up to on his own)

Describe their companion quest:

This would be a nightmare to implement and idk how to solve the issue of what Camellia can do but that's not my problem. I'm just entertained by the idea of a quest with the same premise having different flavour depending on your earlier decisions. As you may suspect from the previous section the decision in question is how you dealt with Feud of the Faithful.

Set up: Aqil is angry with the Inquisition and generally disheartened. He knows you can't just denounce your allies, nor can you change things in a day. All of this is such a messy matter, but he wishes there was at least something he could do. When a group of arcane casters is wrongly accused of being demon spies he decides he needs to do something to prevent their unfair trail.

Hulrun version: It's Hulrun, he is wrong, you have to Ace Attorney his ass. Have fun!

Ramien version: Our resident beautiful boy is also moved by this situation, you take him with you and go on a Free Willy adventure.

Chun Dawei version: He is willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. But then who is at fault? This is now a buddy cop comedy and you have to find the real culprits.

Regardless of the version you manage to secure the release. It would have a follow up in act 5 where you meet the casters again but i don't have any ideas atm.

Now what quest flags are actually concerned with is Knight Commander’s attitude towards the whole situation. You can support Aqil's care for his fellow arcane practitioners and get his community ending, or you can convince him he should be more concerned with his own pursuits earning you his power ending.

Are they romanceable? Describe their romance quest/scenes if you want!

Yeah! Available for commanders of any gender. But as I said earlier devil, demon, lich and aeon will cause a break up in act 5.

His romance is fairly easy to trigger, he enjoys playful banter the most but also will respond in kind to direct flirting.

—

After that you will get a couple of scenes where he tries to discreetly test the waters, he acts his usual lively self but somewhere in there he tries to determine how you feel about his whole deal. You know the ancestor spirits, divine duties and such.

—

That eventually culminates in him knocking at your door in the middle of the night saying that this may sound strange but he has a story he wishes to tell you.

If you try to dismiss him by saying that it's really not the time or that you are tired he will insist on it claiming that if he doesn't tell it now he may lose the courage to do it at all.

So the story is:

"There once was a boy who lived in an open cage. A strange contraption indeed! For how can you be free and constrained at the same time? But the boy never questioned that, he had taken up residence behind its bars, sometimes he would leave, but always he would return. That was his life. But once the boy grew too big for his cage he was released into the world fully, for the first time. Feverishly drunk on this new feeling he dressed himself in cloaks made of shiny feathers and called himself the freest bird there ever was. He thought he could make this moment last forever. He spinned like a dervish, his feathers shimmering with many colours capturing admiration of those who looked. The boy met many wonderful people and found many wonderful moments. But with every person and every moment he became more and more unable to remove his feathered cloaks. They became yet another cage but this one was different. This one was locked."

You can either figure out that he is talking about himself, or act confused to which he will explain that it's a story about him.

Afterwards he explains the whole thing in plain manner:

"You see, I had what you could call a sheltered childhood. Not due to any malice. When you are marked with destiny since you are five years of age there simply are measures that need to be taken. Lessons that need to be learned. I suppose I missed out on the whole being a child part of one's life but it wasn't that bad of a trade. However, when I was sent off to Absalom to continue my education there… Can you imagine the overwhelming desire to just be someone else? Someone not burdened by expectations. And to my shame I surrendered to it. I thought I can finally experience people as just me. Just Aqil. And it worked great for a while, but what was the truth in that moment became a lie in the long run. All my relationships were built on omission of important parts of me. Were they even real relationships then? What would happen if all was revealed? Questions like that started to plague me and I promised myself if I'm ever to love again… it will be truthful.

You got to know me quite well during our time together. You seemed to show interest, but are you sure this is something you truly want? I mean all of it: my faith, my family, my burdens."

So your options

tell him that you care for him only as a friend:

"Ah. So you're telling me I got too deep in my own head about something? Wouldn't be the first time that happened. I… hope you won't hold this whole emotional display against me."

ask if you can figure it out one day at a time:

"No, I'm sorry, this is not a day by day matter. This is who I am. You can take it or leave it."

agree that his whole deal is a bit much and you can't commit to it:

"I understand. I won't lie, I'm a little miserable right now but I understand. At least we cleared that up and that counts for something. Don't worry it won't affect us working together, your success is still vitally important to me."

say that you care for him, all of him and want to be together:

"Are you sure you considered this carefully? I'm sorry, this makes me sound like I don't believe you. I do believe you. It just feels different than… I'm overjoyed! I truly am! And I'm rambling now, dear gods. Could you find the kindness in your heart to kiss me before I embarrass myself even more."

After that you can bid him good night with a kiss and a warm embrace or kiss him and say that it's late already and he can just stay for the night, with that you have the option to either just cuddle or to sleep with him.

—

In the Abyss you have a convo about how since descending to this plane the connection he feels to Meru has become very faint, it's still there but they feel so hard to reach. He admits it makes him off-balance but he is grateful that he can confide in you about it.

He will also ask how you are holding up and if there is anything he can do.

You can say that simply his presence would be enough: he wraps his arm around you and you chill for a while in companionable silence.

You can ask for a distraction: he will tell you little stories to take your mind off things.

You can say that you need him close: he obliges you and you spend some time together in private.

—

In act 5 he will approach you with a little surprise!!

"I know it's easy to forget romantic gestures in the times of war but I realised you deserve something special. Can you please follow me?"

He takes you to a door leading to a room that you know for sure has nothing inside. "Here." he smiles mischievously.

KC: Oh, I can't wait to see what you came up with.

He winks at you playfully.

KC: So your idea of romance involves making out in a broom closet?

Aqil: What? No. I mean it could if you would like it. But not right now.

As you enter the room you are greeted not by cramped walls but a cityscape. If you pass world knowledge check you know it's Sothis, the capital of Osirion, on failure you make a guess maybe it's Aqil's hometown.

"I'm not an expert in illusions but I asked for some help and I think I did quite well."

He closes the door and stands next to you.

"It's one of my memories. We are in the Azghaad's Spire, part of the grand temple of Nethys in Sothis. This section is inaccessible to people outside of the priesthood but a friendly cleric snuck me in one time. He said that as Meru I need to know the city from this perspective. I'm still not entirely sure what he meant by that. A metaphor? A riddle? Maybe just rambling. But the view sure was nice."

KC: This is wonderful! Thank you for doing this for me.

Aqil: It was my pleasure. I'm glad you enjoy it, my dear.

KC: This is nice, but I would prefer the real thing.

Aqil: When this war is over, I will give you a tour of the entire city. That's a promise.

KC: And yet somehow you are an even nicer view.

Aqil: (laughs) Please my dear, show some appreciation for the craft! You can admire my exquisite features any other day.

"You know, I spent a lot of time in this temple wondering what my life will be like and I have to admit that this crusade was nowhere near anything I ever imagined."

Then you get the standard ordeal (at least from what I've seen of Sosiel's and Daeran's romances) of reminiscing about the things that happened during the game.

And finally:

"I didn't create this illusion just to impress you with my skill or to talk about my past. What I wanted above all else is for you to feel like you are an important part of my world, in more than just words. Today and for as long as fate allows us. [Name], will you marry me?"

What would their ending slides be like?

Power

Fully committed to acquisition of more power and knowledge, Aqil became known as one of the most powerful spellcasters of his time, admired and envied by many. Yet he spends a lot of time alone studying effects of the Worldwound and is considered a bit of an eccentric.

Community

Fully committed to the cause of other practitioners of the arcane, Aqil established a Temple of Nethys in Kenabres and became known as a great teacher and reformer. Despite being deeply proud of the accomplishments of his students he still sometimes wonders if he didn't squander some of his own opportunities.

Hulrun extra: The two of them are still not friends, far from it. But Hulrun seeks Aqil's counsel in the matters of arcane as he trusts his instincts.

Ramien extra: As representatives of their faiths in Kenabres they have reasons to see each other often and eventually they get together. Mwah! (or just become close friends if you were the one to romance Aqil)

Chun Dawei extra: They developed respect for each other during the quest and post game they become good friends and drinking buddies.

Undecided (companion quest left unfinished)

Despite his eagerness to prove himself Aqil could never commit to one path for his future. With his efforts too scattered he never became more than a footnote in history.

Ascension

Aqil meets up with his ancestor spirits to thank them for all their help but also to establish firmly that his duties now lie with the ascended KC. Meru don't mind that in the slightest so they part on good terms with the promise of future cooperation if either of them needs it.

Romance

Stay in Drezen

Very similar to his regular endings, but he saves time for you and makes sure to support you in your endeavours. Always deeply grateful that you have found someone to rely on in each other.

Travel the world

He has a great time travelling and learning new things. He is fascinated by everything the world has to offer and it's made even better by having you at his side.

Power - He focuses on finding new spells and techniques for himself.

Community - He starts writing books so he can share his knowledge with others.

Ascension romance

Even more focused on helping you to adjust to the new life and busies himself with trying to find ways to expand your power and influence.

Aeon no memories

Without the Worldwound that needs to be dealt with, ancestor spirits send him on a quest he always expected: to delve into ancient tombs to discover remnants of long forgotten magic. His successes made him a well known person in Osirion and beyond.

Aeon with memories

Same as above but on top of that he is really mad about the aeon interference and he uses his considerable magic and extra memories to create anomalies and cause trouble for aeons just to be petty about it. He is safe for now but they may get him for it one day.

Any other fun facts?

As a general rule he insists on being referred to with full Aqil Meru. Just Aqil is reserved for family and friends.

—

After going through dialogues about his faith and family, if KC is also a worshipper of Nethys, Aqil will ask them which one they consider more important: destruction or protection. If you pick one of them he will argue the importance of the other and say that while there is no wrong way to revere Nethys, focusing on only one of his aspects can be limiting and short-sighted. If you tell him you believe in the balance between the two he will admit that it is his view as well and that he is glad the Knight Commander understands this important truth.

—

Similarly if KC is a kitsune he will ask where do they hail from. His reactions to different options:

Tian Xia

“Then you are even further from home than I am. If you ever start to miss it do not hesitate to find me. I would love to hear stories about what life is like in Tian Xia.”

Garund

“A fellow Garundi, how wonderful! I would love to ask you more questions but I worry I will start to feel homesick. Maybe we should complain about how cold Mendev is instead.”

Avistan

“How curious. I have to admit my knowledge of kitsune clans of Avistan is woefully lacking. I would love to hear about your experiences if you don't mind sharing!”

Wanderer

“Truly? I know wanderlust is a dear friend for many of us but returning home is what makes it even more gratifying. Or at least I think so. Regardless, I would love to hear about your travels!”

No memory

“How horrible. Who are we without our past? Hmm… There is a spell that helps remember things but it works on a very small scale. Maybe it could be modified? I will look into it.”

—

If I had to write him for real I would have to add an entire section where you ask him why each previous Meru was great. It's a serious case of "do I have it in me to read this all" but if you do you unlock a dialogue option "All of them sound great but I have to say the seventh Meru is still my favourite." which makes him laugh and he gets a little flustered so it was all worth it???

—

He would be a dual-cursed oracle if it was an available subclass for wotr. Blackened is the curse he gets benefits from, while lame is his additional no benefits curse.

—

For all Enigma haters: if you take him with you it will be described that he is fascinated with the place, taking notes and making sketches. He will give you tips for how to solve the puzzles if you ask him.

—

He studied in Absalom and attended a few of Jubilost's lectures before the gnome peaced out to end up in the River Kingdoms. He will make a comment about it if he is in the party during the Jubilost encounter and they will have a little convo with each other.

Provide some dialogue/bark examples!

On select:

- Ready for anything.

- Do you need my magic?

- (clicked too many times) Would you like to hear a story? There once was a mythic hero destined for great deeds but they were too busy bothering a handsome fox magician to actually accomplish anything.

Perception Check Passed:

- The Eye reveals the truth.

- How curious.

Succeeding a skill check:

- I am indeed quite impressive.

- Ha! Well done me.

Failing a skill check:

- Listen, we will laugh when I tell this story later.

- I can try again with more magic.

Low Health:

- Ancestors protect me!

- It's fine. I can heal myself. Unless I can't. Then this will be awkward.

Attacking:

- With these hands we will destroy!

- Destroy and protect!

On critical hit:

- Know the might of Meru!

- Oh I hope someone saw that.

Provide some examples of companion banters!

Aqil: Nobles like you are only interested in people like me when you need our magic. Usually for some inane whim you are overcome with for a moment.

Camellia: I do not know what you speak of. If I ever have a need of you… Your magic will not be the reason.

—

Aqil: Do you ever miss the warm sun of Garund? Mendev feels so cold and wet in comparison.

Seelah: Ha! Don't worry, you will get used to it. Besides, this way every chance to sit by the campfire feels even better.

—

Aqil: We should hire some scribes who could write down stories and customs of your tribe! As a historian it pains me to think there is an entire society out there people know nothing about.

Lann: That's sweet and all, but maybe we will get to it when everyday survival is no longer an issue.

—

Aqil: Most people don't expect direct intervention from their deity. For many, religion is simply an easy way to find a community of like-minded people.

Ember: But why would you need gods to form a community? Wouldn't you still love magic even without your god?

—

Aqil: If someone doubts even the possibility of a good demon you have my blessing to call them uneducated. In the Maelstrom exists an entire city inhabited by outsiders who rejected their former alignments.

Arueshalae: I did not know that. Can you… tell me more about it? Maybe I could even visit it someday.

—

Aqil: I think your abilities would improve if you strengthened your understanding of the fundamentals. Here, you can borrow my Book of Magic.

Woljif: I ain't taking it, pal. No one offers magic knowledge for free and you won't trick me into some kind of debt.

—

Aqil: Your magic smells strange. Like a floral perfume that covers something pungent.

Daeran: Do you kitsune have a habit of sniffing everyone or are you just that fond of me in particular?

—

Aqil: After this war is over I would love to show you my favourite galleries in Absalom. Nothing enlivens one's artistic spirit more than seeing creative endeavours of others.

Sosiel: That does sound wonderful. Maybe we could even meet the artists themselves.

—

Aqil: You know, you are my least favourite kind of person, someone who thinks they have it all figured out in a world where everything is relative.

Regill: This chaotic relativity you speak of is precisely why this world needs rules imposed on it. For everyone's sake.

—

Aqil: The way you speak of your tribe reveals what a bitter and selfish person you are.

Wenduag: And the way you can't shut up about yours shows you are a pathetic fool who is nothing without the approval of others.

—

Aqil: Are you sure you remember nothing of your family? Not even for your sake but theirs. Clans care for their own, they are probably worried if you were lost to them.

Nenio: Your emotional appeal is noted and ignored, fox boy. But I will make contact with kitsune clans when it's time to classify them for my encyclopedia.

—

Aqil: Familial bonds can be unorthodox yet strong and true at the same time. For example, I have an aunt who is not really my aunt, she just formed kinship with my father after she was first hired and then refused to kill him.

Greybor: Can't say I ever became friends with any of my targets. Seems… unprofessional.

—

Aqil: Sosiel told me you enjoyed music a great deal… before everything. I could play my lyre for you if you would like.

Trever: It's a kind offer… I'll consider it.

—

Aqil: You believe in the importance of one's clan, but everyone in my family practices the arcane arts. Would you condemn them all?

Ulbrig: Maybe you have different ways of doing things in your faraway lands. But I know how things are here in Sarkoris.

#pwotr pals #pathfinder wrath of the righteous #wotr #oc: aqil meru #this gotta be the longest thing i've ever written #but i have a better grasp on his voice now so that's something!!#writing tag

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 3 years

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Hi! I love everything that you write and heh I am a fan! 😄 tbh this is my first time requesting something on Tumblr! If you don't mind and if I am not being a bother...can you write about how the guys would react If MC suddenly starts making meme references? I don't know how I got the idea but I am REALLY curious. And love you! :D

Hiya! Tyvm for the kind words, and apologies that this took a while! I hope you have the chance to enjoy it regardless ❤️❤️❤️ Love you too, sweet pea! I promise to get to the next request you’ve sent ASAP~

Aight but this would be hilarious because the range of the reactions is just ungodly. I will be putting this under a cut after Napoleon so I don’t clog up everyone’s dash, but all the suitors are included below otherwise!

Comte is the one that recognizes a few, but didn’t really stay in modern times long enough to be as well-versed as a Gen Z kid might. Regardless he finds the wittiness and absolute chaotic fuckery to be delightful, and will 100% support the harmless nonsense. It never fails to get a laugh out of him

Mozart that first day be like: “Buzz off MC I hate you” MC, because she likes swinging bats at wasps’ nests: “Well that’s not very cash money of you” Mozart: ?????????? Comte, giggling in the bg like the secret fae he is This one’s just because I’m petty, but after the events of Comte rt I just imagine them encountering Vlad again and MC’s just “I lived bitch.” while Comte is flipping him off behind her lkjahgkjhdsg

Comte @ Leo when he finds the latter under his desk: Had it not been for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you. MC: wheezing from the hallway as she’s about to give him his letters

MC: So how was your day, honey? Comte: Good, good--briefly had to go beastmode upon the punk that pilfered my lint roller MC, biting her lip to keep from laughing: So does Leo still have his kneecaps? Comte: for now.

Comte, @ literally anyone upsetting the MC: I won’t hesitate, bitch

Comte: Be careful with my emotional baggage, it’s designer

MC: What if I was evil and ran towards you at very fast speeds Comte: My arms are strong, I would catch and hug you

Leo and Dazai are the ones that don’t have a single reference point but are filled with so much dumbass chaos energy that they just. Understand immediately???? Nobody knows how or why, but they just catch on so fast--adapt the language in a matter of weeks. Never underestimate the power of combined boredom, depression, and humor

I swear to god I just see MC taking them their Blanc/Rouge and being like “here you go sir, one enslaved moisture” and they just go fucking hog wild from day one. MC starts impersonating Theo when he leaves the room around Dazai, like fake deep voice “you all only hate me because you do not like me and I am mean to you. grow up.” Or like the MC meets a baby on her travels with Leo around town and she holds them and says v seriously and sagely “So you are Baby? I have heard tales of your exploits.” and Leo about loses his shit right there. They both think MC is the funniest person alive--they’ve never been more eager to throw a ring at someone in their entire life.

Also a bonus for my beloved Dazai: MC, facing even the slightest inconvenience (like dropping her fork) in the most dramtic voice possible: Life is not daijoubu. Dazai: wheezing

MC, after watching Theo turn down a woman at the bar in the meanest way possible: bro quit letting the darkness consume you u r scaring the hoes Dazai, literally rolling around on the ground, half-drunk and dying:

MC, walking alongside Dazai and stopping to stare at her reflection in the River Seine. Dazai’s expecting some sad or twisted shit, since people often feel comfortable talking about those things around him, but instead she just: “Oh, it’s you. The source of all my problems.” And he about falls into the river from shock HAHAHA

At this point don’t be surprised if his next book is about an absolute madlad woman similar to MC

Napoleon finds it to be a delightful quirk more than anything? He doesn’t really understand it, but he finds it funny when they change their voice for effect or speak in exaggerated tones. If it’s just comprehensible enough for an outsider to understand--or Sebas gives him context--chances are it’ll send him into a laughing fit

For this one I just imagine MC singing that Ratatouille meme song obnoxiously bad while cooking, and Napoleon and Comte are just so wildly amused by it bc it makes zero sense and it’s only vaguely French at this point

MC @ Napoleon while they’re cooking brunch: Can I offer you a nice egg in these trying times?

MC, conflicted because she’s tired and wanted to sleep in but also got to see Napo’s cute sleeping face for a few hours: For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5AM on the day I can sleep in. Sebas: Early to bed and early to rise makes a person healthy, wealthy, and wise MC: early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch Napoleon: laughing in agreement

Isaac is the type to be bewildered and concerned at first (especially when he hears the more nihilistic ones hoOOOoooOO BOY) but eventually begins to understand it’s some bizarre attempt at humor (that hurts Zack baby). While some part of him laments that it reminds him of Dazai and he’s secretly jealous of how she and Dazai bond over it, he will sometimes join in the chaos when the mood strikes him and he’s feeling mischievous

Isaac: How are you feeling? MC: Oh, I’m not Isaac: seconds from dialing 911 Isaac: Are you okay? MC: Oh yeah dw I just suffer from that syndrome where your neutral expression makes you look like you’re an angry serial killer Isaac: say sike rn

Isaac, tutoring MC and correcting something: MC, muttering while redoing it: The risk I took was calculated, but man am I bad at math. Isaac: unable to help a laugh

One time MC was avoiding Isaac for fear of hurting his feelings and he just confronts her like: Isaac: back by unpopular demand, me! What’s wrong, MC pls MC was so hecking proud of him

Isaac, telling MC about a recent discovery he learned at uni from another professor: bones typically heal stronger after they’ve been broken--so long as they’re set properly, of course MC, looking him dead in the eyes: So what you’re saying is that I should break every bone in my body until I become superhumanly powerful? Isaac: please do not, no

Mozart and Jeanne are just. Totally lost. Why are you talking like that??? Why are you making “crab hands”???? They don’t understand. Maybe never will. They reach a point where they just kind of laugh and shake their heads, endeared by the oddity after they’re used to it and have determined it isn’t a threat/insult.

MC: It’s a cold and it’s a brooooken, Waluigi. Waaaaluigiiiii...waaaahluigi..... Mozart: surprised, then starts snickering and playing along on the piano

Arthur, asking MC very personal questions out loud because he is an idiot sometimes: Soooo MC, are you a top or a bottom? MC: I’m a threat. (If he asks a second time, the response will be “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy.”) Jeanne, fighting a smile:

MC, about to punch an asshole: Your free trial of being alive has ended Jeanne, seconds from laughing for the first time in 100 years:

Also, because I genuinely can’t help myself. You know that knight meme like “Parry this you fucking casual.” I cannot stress enough that it is literally the personification of Jeanne’s entire character. I’m not even joking.

Arthur and Shakespeare are utterly fascinated by the rapid evolution of wordplay and the sheer hilarity. They will ask all about these so-called “memes” and ask for examples of them if MC can show them (either somehow accessing her phone or drawing them). MC draws Arthur the knife cat meme and he about a s c e n d s at the hilarity of it all, points and yells THEO IS HOLDING THE KNIFE. He is correct. They will be delighted and follow along eagerly, and--god forbid--will make their own based on late 19th century struggles.

Is this where Shakespeare got the idea for “What, you egg? stabs him” and “You are a saucy boy.”? I’m too scared to ask. Don’t even get me started on “The Fool jingled miserably across the floor.” That one is just too on the nose...

I can’t even imagine what would happen to Shakespeare if MC like translated vines and memes into Ye Olde English around him. Imagine she’s at one of those noble balls and hears rumors of these two guys living together and they’re so obviously gay and he says “And those gents w’re roommates.” And in the most false surprised tone ever MC just replies “oh mine own god, those gents w’re roommates.” Imagine having a wife that’s just as hilarious as you are and hits you with all the force of a bag of wet mice every time you speak in retaliation, he’s going into palpitations.

Every time Arthur does smth stupid MC just: “I Pretend I Do Not See It.”

Vincent is tickled pink by MC’s penchant for finding joy and/or amusement in nearly everything they do, and he smiles gently when he sees them muttering and laughing to themselves. He wants to be able to join them in what they love, but he has a harder time following along and understanding the darker humor sometimes. Mostly gets confused??? Please give him the easier ones to mimic and laugh when he tries--or just include him in your jokes MC. He’s babie your honor...

But he also. Will not. Stand any kind of self-deprecation or borderline verbal self-harm. He’s usually very easygoing and calm, but for whatever reason that stuff makes him go deathly quiet and upset.

MC, after something goes horribly wrong, hugging Vincent: Oh Vince, we really in it now Vincent: giggling a little despite his worries, relaxing

MC: Theo stop simping for Vincent that’s my job

MC, when Theo leaves the room and she gets Vincent all to herself: The evil is defeated.

MC: And this is where I would put my will to live...if I h a d one! Vincent: ;-; MC: oh shit, oh fuck, I was only kidding Vincent wait (MC was subsequently lectured and loved on for many hours)

Theo is conflicted because on the one hand, he loves to see you smiling and having fun. On the other, you’re clowning as hard as Dazai and Arthur and he can only handle so many monkeys in his circus. Most of the time he will roll his eyes and be the straight man of this comedy, but you might find him cracking a smile--or accidentally letting a chuckle slip past his lips now and again.

MC, after meeting Theo: I’m a nice person, but I’m about to start throwing rocks at people.

Theo, those first days: Oh? You’re approaching me? Instead of running away, you’re coming right to me? MC: I can’t beat the shit out of you without getting closer.

Theo: Every time I ask MC to explain “vibe check” to me she hits me with some kind of improvised weapon

MC, after the “incident” (you know the one): This year, I lost my dear lover Theo Theo, in the distance: QUIT TELLING EVERYONE I’M DEAD! MC: ;-; sometimes I can still hear his voice...

Sebastian is last because oh boy. OH BOYYYYY I LOVE HIM. Okay so the way I see this happening with Sebastian is just. So wild. Because at first he’s t r y i n g so hard to be the proper butler man. He does not meme. But then he starts to drift closer to what Niles from The Nanny was, where he’ll quip and joke in private or when the situation is just beyond the amount of absurdity he can handle without making a snarky comment. Everyone in the house can’t fathom how Sebas and MC got so close so fast, but there are points where they’re just “Are they even speaking English anymore???” It’s 11 times funnier than normal because Sebas almost never smiles or laughs when memeing, the deadpan quality of his playing along sends MC every time

Has ABSOLUTELY said “HEY. PANINI HEAD. ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME???” jokingly when MC made a mistake in the kitchen. They laugh about it for y e a r s

MC: I can’t date someone who keeps a lamb as a pet, that’s so weird Sebas, brushing Lotte in front of MC: MC: MC: Okay, I will make an exception because she looks very polite

MC and Sebas, fully aware of the fame some of the men will reach in modern times: We will watch your career with great interest. (I s2g that’s like half of Sebas’ rt right there I’m crying)

Sebas rt with Lotte be like that 500 dollar Mareep meme: “sometimes a family can be just a boy, his gf, and their 500 dollar two foot tall Lotte”

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what-the--curtains · 3 years

Text

There Are No Wolves In the Desert

( Oberyn Martell x f!reader, Robb Stark x f!reader)

Part 1 - The Wolf and The Outsider

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Summary: The series of events that have lead to you being in Dorne and why you can never return home.

Authors notes: Oberyn is not in this chapter but he will be in all subsequent chapters! This part is mainly context corner to build up the character! The reader is a distant relative of the Targaryens but I only mention hair colour and eye colour everything else will remain non- descript! Let me know if you want to be tagged (or untagged) in this story 😊😊

Tw: Swearing, violence, mentions of and allusion to sex (none depicted), war, murder the usual GOT stuff, major character death (I wonder who it could be👀👀)

Word count: 5.7k

Tagged: @evyiione

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Kings landing

Cersei tilts her head, eyes thinning as she gazes out over kings landing, the moon illuminating the gold plated roofs of the upper class, the stench of the poor unable to reach her here. Jamie sits on the bed she had shared with her late husband, slowly re-donning the white armour of the king's guard. He turns watching as the summer breeze blows the ends of her golden hair. His shin guard is clipped into place just as three short knocks sound out against the wooden door, filling the quiet air of the night. Sighing loudly Jamie stands up to answer the door, a smile forming on Cersei’s lips as she trunks to greet the visitor.

“Littlefinger, to what do we owe the displeasure,” Jamie asks, sarcasm dripping off every word.

“Funny… I thought knights usually waited outside the bedchamber of those they swore a sacred oath to protect,” he queries smiling, the candlelight illuminating his prominent front teeth.

“Is it done,” Cersei asks through her teeth, tiring of the man’s desperate attempts to hold some semblance of power.

“Yes. Not a soul left alive that isn’t loyal to house Baratheon... or is Lannister perhaps more apt. The north is ours for the taking now the young wolf has fallen, and Sansa is under control here.”

“What of his wife?” she asks, walking towards a nearby table, decanting wine into a goblet turning with eyebrows raised. Littlefinger was not the only one in Kings landing with ears everywhere. She had heard a rumour, one she wished to squash as soon as she can.

“His widow, you mean,” Jamie states from the door frame, dissatisfied at being left out of the conversation.

“Gone, left in the wee hours of the morning from what I heard,” Cersei says, eyes staring into Littlefinger’s, locked in a strategic game of mental chess.

“So she’s alive, ” Jamie adds, despite his previous statement being ignored.

“Not for long,” Littlefinger states , brushing him off.

“Who saw her leave?” Cersei demands, a hint of concern slipping through as she swirls her wine around in the glass.

“No one left alive,” Littlefinger reassures

“So she's...” Cersei begins,

“She’s set to land in Dorne two days from now, she will be dealt with when she arrives. She is…inconsequential.” Littlefinger finishes.

“And so ends the reign of the wolves,” Jamie remarks, as Cersei raises her glass toasting the gods.

Dorne (2 days later)

You watch the docks appear along the horizon as the ship begins to reduce its speed. The sea spray from the trip spattered across your skin was yet to dry, cooling you off, as the southern sun bares down onto you. You lick your lips, the salty taste leaves you parched in a heat the likes of which you’d never known. You’d never been to Dorne, though you’d heard stories of it’s fair weather, people and architecture, and you were eager to see if they held true. You’d heard the wine here was the sweetest the world had to offer, you planned on returning home with some, even if Dorne was merely a stopover. It was not a honeymoon you were here for, no you were here to complete a task of utmost importance. You came in search of the so-called dragon queen at the behest of your husband. He wanted to see if the rumours were true and if they were he hoped to make an ally of her. He had sent you in hopes that your shared lineage, though distant, would work in his favour. The Targaryens held family in high regard, especially with so few of them remaining. You smile as the shore comes into view, the birds above singing to your arrival. The golden hues of the late afternoon sun paint the tents of the markets in the docks. A sense of bliss rolls over you as the crew ties the ship to the dock. It would be one of the last moments of peace you would know for some time. Your feet make contact with the ground, legs wobbling slightly at being back on solid ground. You stumble slightly and a man with a blue beard catches your elbow.

“Winter is coming,” he whispers and you look up as he discreetly passes you a note. You open it. The letter is long and the script rushed, but seven words stand out ‘the King in the North has fallen’ the sheet slips from your fingers and you drop to your knees. “Quick, we haven’t much time,” he says dragging you up, as the first arrow pierces the sky, hitting the captain of your ship in the neck.

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Winterfell, 7 years prior (age 17)

You had always stood out in the north, a caveat of the family you were born into, all of you were outsiders here. Your grandfather was a Targaryen, second cousin to the mad king and when war broke out he led a small rebellion that tried to push back the Baratheon troops storming the capitol, but to no avail. Your father and his brothers were there that day, fighting alongside him, but they were outnumbered, and no amount of skill would keep the combined Starks and the Baratheon forces at bay. After the capitol was taken, your grandfather was hanged and your grandmother took your father and his brother and feld while Robert butchered any descendents of the Targaryen line that would weaken his claim to the throne. Your father had split from his family opting to head north, while they trekked south. He never saw them again. Upon his arrival in Winterfell he built a small homestead outside the city walls and sought work, thankfully the distinctive hair and eye colour had skipped him and he could blend in with the northerners. He found work as a stone mason, crafting formidable architecture admired and paid for by the nobility. The payments allowed him to move up the social ladder and while he remained in the forest he had gained the respect of the elite and was accepted as one of them. His hands soon grew tired of creating. They craved the weight of a sword and so he gave up masonry and offered his services to Ned Stark. Your father became a confidant to the King in the North as he moved up through the ranks. He ended up training many of the soldiers, and for a while, even Ned’s own sons. His proximity to the crown brought him into the path of your mother.

A ball was held in celebration of their eldest child's first name day and your mother was in attendance representing the Tyrells. He spotted her across the room, and to this day he swears the sun shone down on her despite being inside a hall. He approached her that night and they married during the long summer, your brother Illirion was born a year later, then a year after that it was your turn. Their final child, your youngest brother Rhaevar was born two years after you, thus completing your family unit. While the honeyed eyes and dark toned hair of the Tyrells presented well with your brothers, the Targaryen traits that had initially skipped your father came through in your genetic composition. Your hair was as white as the snow that came to the north during the winter, and your eyes a lilac similar to the foxgloves that grew in the spring. You attended a local school until you reached the age where girls were no longer allowed to study. Whilst there you heard whispers from the other children. Every now and then a comment of “murderer” or “traitor” would be shot your way, much to your confusion. It wouldn’t be until years later than your parents would tell you why such comments were made. After school ended officially you continued your education at home and studied the methods of healing that your mother had been trained in while in Highgarden.

Your father insisted all his children learn how to defend themselves, the north was a dangerous place after all, and the threat of war loomed large. The stability between kingdoms was teetering, it had been peaceful for too long, a storm was coming. You’d proven to be of high talent, had it not been for your eldest brother's size you would have been the strongest fighter in the family. Illirion married at 18 to a noble girl of high status, and it wasn't long after that you lost many of your friends to marriage. Some of the pairing were good, some bad and some even for love. Despite being propositioned a few times, you had no interest in being a bride.Your parents did not mind now that your brother had secured a wife and would be able to care for you once they passed. Your father also had it on good authority that you all were to be cared for so long as a Stark sat at Winterfell.

You were acquainted with the family since childhood, though outside of parties you rarely saw them. During the gatherings you and Sansa often gossiped together and Arya would sneak you into the courtyard and beg you to train her. The time spent with them was greatly cherished. Their brothers were often gone during such events, off showcasing their prowess to girls of higher status than you, women who would one day be their wives. Little did you know, Jon and Robb had been told to stay away from you so as not to ruin your reputation. That rule had been followed until one day when a particularly cruel comment from a noble girl sent Arya running directly into your path.

You were out tracking a wolf that had killed one of your family's horses. It wasn’t revenge you sought, but its attack on your homestead meant it was getting closer to town, and growing far too bold for your liking. You’d stopped your trek once you realized it was headed back towards the wall. Approaching your house you see Arya sitting on a log outside your house near the fire pit. Her feet swinging, intermittently kicking at the dirt below.

“Arya?” you question placing your gear down on the ground as she turns to face you, her nose running, eye slightly red.

“Is Rhaevar around? I wish to play” she demands, her childlike nature apparent now more than ever.

“I’m afraid he’s gone off in search of the children of the forest, but perhaps we can find something to do together?” you offer sitting beside her, she was upset, evidently so.

“I have no want to stitch,” she huffs, causing you to laugh at her attempt to insult you.

“Good neither do I. I’m no good at it anyways,” you admit and she looks up at you “Well what do you wish, Arya? Perhaps I can be of assistance.”

“I wish to know how to shoot my arrow so it hits the target every time. I don’t care what Robb says, Jon thinks I can do it so I want to try.”

“Well, I can help with that, come I’ll show you a trick. You’ll hit it every time. Prove your eldest brother wrong,” your comment earns a rare grin from the youngest Stark daughter. After a few goes she gets the hang of it, hitting your practice targets one after the other.

“By the gods,” you chuckle, you’d never seen such natural talents before. Caught up in your admiration of her gift you fail to catch her turning to aim at a farther target still. The arrow soars through the air as two horses approach your homestead, the arrow only just missing them.

“Arya!” you shout, grabbing her arm “You must be careful!” you exasperate as she looks up to you her mouth ajar. The sound of the horses fast approaching.

“Get behind me,” you murmur, pushing in front of her and aiming the bow true.

“It’s Robb!” she shouts, pushing against you attempting to make a run for it. Despite her efforts to throw you off balance you manage to grab her arm, dropping your weapons in the process.

“Why are you running?” you ask, not releasing your grip on her scrawny arm.

“Because I don’t fit in!” she finally admits.

“Well a secret Arya, no one fits in, we're all different, it's what keeps life interesting and what will keep you alive in your years to come,” you say watching as she stops struggling a softness suddenly coming over her features.

“She said I had a face like a dog,” she whispers, chewing on her lip, eyes down. The cruelty of children was always surprising to you.

“Well I’d find it hard to find someone who does not see the tenderness of a pup, or the strength and beauty of a dire wolf. Either way, You have talents, beyond what beauty can measure, ones that will never abandon you,” you reassure. She sniffs and looks up at you offering a rare smile. You see her shift back into her tough persona, the scowl returning to her face as she runs towards the horses belonging to her brother and who you assumed must be his ward Theon. You watch the eldest Stark, now two years your senior drop down allowing Theon to help Arya, as he strides towards you.

“We’d be lucky to have you in our ranks, if you can teach her to nearly take my head off from a mile away,” he laughs, easing your nervousness slightly, his northern accent heavier than you had remembered.

“I did remind your sister to be more careful lest she be tried for treason, or worse yet, get me tried for treason. As for my services, they are always at the will of the Starks, if you wish me to join the army who am I to refuse,” you say, tilting your head and offering him a smile.

“Women are not allowed in our ranks, lest of all those who look like you,” he charms, an unexpected compliment from a man you rarely got the opportunity to speak with.

“Not yet, but rules are meant to be broken after all my Lord.” You retort, eyes meeting his steel grey gaze causing an unexpected chill to run down your spine.

“Are they?” he laughs, the warmth of it causing a sudden heat to rise within you, counteracting his gaze.

“You should remind your mother of that when you return Arya to her,” you offer, as he hands you the arrow that almost took off his head.

“Thank you for returning my sister, wolves have been prowling about, heaven forbid they got to her before us,” he says, concern etched in his face.

“The wolves have moved north, I do not believe they will return this way, and Arya is stronger than you give her credit for,” you assure, his brows raising at your competence.

“I know, and I think she does too, I fear she’ll outlive us all,” he offers, rubbing the back of his neck, the two of you standing there for a moment, the smirk that usually danced replaced by a nervous grin. His head dips down before turning back to the horse, but he stops one last time swivelling round to face you.

“My lady,” he calls after you.

“Yes my lord,” you say, turning back to face him.

“I look forward to our next meeting,” he offers sincerely.

“As do I,” you say curtseying in such a way to make him smile before you both head back towards your respective homes.

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2 years later (age 19)

“What is it?” you ask your father as you lay down your quiver and the pair of small pheasants you’d brought home for dinner. He takes a long drag of his pipe, gaze glued to the treeline. “Father tell me?” you stress, knowing he only ever smoked when bad news had arrived.

“Illirion, he’s...” He stammers and drops his head letting out a strangled sob. You shake your head at the suggestion. Your brother had gone down to kings landing a week ago to serve as a bodyguard to Ned Stark who had been summoned at the behest of King Robert Baratheon. Arya and Sansa had gone with them, leaving Catelyn and the boys in Winterfell, Robb currently ruling in his place.

“Ned Stark would never allow…” you begin, sure your father had once again fallen trap to the rumour mill.

“He’s dead, they’re all dead, all of them...” he whispers, dropping his head to his hands.

“What happened tell me everything,” you stress, pushing your own sentiments aside for the moment.

“Beheaded, Ned for treason, for the murder of Robert Baratheon, his greatest friend, unlikely story. They killed your brother as Ned’s head fell. Arya, is missing, presumed dead, Sansa is a prisoner, to be wedded to that horrible snot nosed inbred Joffrey.” He continues in fragmented sentences.

“Mother?” you question.

“She’s in bed still, hasn’t left, I dare not tell her the worst of it,” he admits tear streaked eyes meeting yours.

“What the worst of it?” you ask, unable to think what could possibly be worse. “Lean on me father, there is no else left for you to confide in, lend me some of the burden,” you stress rubbing his arm in encouragement.

“War is upon us and each family must provide a soldier. Since my knee… I am no longer able to fight, the Starks know this. So your youngest brother…” he starts, but a sob catches in his throat stopping him.

“He can’t go, he’s too…” you begin, swallowing as you try to think of the right word.

“Soft” your father offers.

“No, he’s just not skilled enough, at least not in the ways of the sword. Skilled as he is as a mason he wouldn’t last a minute on the battlefield,” you pause, only one path was clear to you “Let me go in his place,” You say, before you have time to process what you had just offered to do.

“No,” your father says without hesitation.

“Let me go and you may end this life with two of three children. If he goes, I will be the only one left and I could not bear it,” you say pushing back tears at the thought of losing another brother.

“Your mother...” he begins

“Knows I was the best fighter. I had the best teacher in all the seven kingdoms after all,” you say nudging him with your elbow. He places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, before pulling you into a tight embrace.

“When do I leave?” you ask.

“Tonight. It’s a good thing your brother isn’t tall, his armour will fit you, take this helmet. Do not remove it, keep your hood up, any trouble and cut off their cocks, or else I will.”

“I'll see you again, I swear it,” you state, with every intent of keeping your promise.

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The battle rages forward, men fall around you, but you refuse to meet a similar fate today. Your sword penetrates through the opening of a Lannister’s armour turning quickly to slice the backs of the knees of another soldier, both falling in tandem. You hear a horse whinny on your left and you turn to see Robb Stark fall from his horse becoming trapped beneath the dying creature. You weave throughout the battle towards him. Your blade intercepts the longsword of an enemy soldier just as it’s about to penetrate Robbs armour. You drop your shield to Robb and you push up against the attacker. Releasing your force he falls forward and Robb pushes the shield up hitting the man’s face swinging his head back. Grabbing the man by his hair you slit his throat. You drop your sword and pull Robb out from beneath the horse. He grabs your shoulders giving you nod before returning to the forefront of the battle. As the horn of retreat sounds you celebrate the victory with those around you, surviving the first of many attacks.

You're walking back to the tents when you hear a familiar voice call out to you.

“You, wait,” Robb demands, chuckling with those around him. You continue on your path hoping he was talking to someone else. “It is not wise to disobey your king.” He sounds out again, forcing you to turn towards him.

“Come now friend, we mean no harm. I wish to look upon the face of the man who saved me and invite him to ride alongside me.” he states.

“Perhaps he is too ugly to show his face, my lord,” one of his lieutenants states causing a laugh to erupt from the surrounding crowd of men except for Robb. Though a slight smile pulls at the corner of his mouth breaking the cold façade he’d donned since his father’s death. A moment passes then another until the silence is so prolonged you have no other option but to obey. Slowly you lift your helmet up your eyes meeting his for the first time in a year.

“A prize for the army, my lord?” one of the men questions, hungrily eyeing you up as he fervently steps towards you. Robb's arm stops him in his tracks and you draw your blade.

“Touch me and risk losing more than just your hand, I have fought alongside you. I am your equal. You will treat me as such,” you demand, your voice unwavering despite the uneasiness in your stomach.

“You have a cunt, you are not our equal, though perhaps in bed…” another from the crowd offers.

“Stop! Leave us” Robb orders, and the men retreat back towards the camp ground the sound of laughter and whistles picking up once out of range.

“I did tell you rules were meant to be broken,” you say, watching as he tries to suppress a smile.

“Well they certainly have been now” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Are you going to hang me, my lord? Or is it my King now?” you question, a bolder move than you should have felt comfortable making.

“To you it's Robb and no I am not going to hang you, but you are going to come with me,” he says offering you his arm which you brush by looking back at him to follow.

“How have you come to be here? Does your father know?” Catelyn stresses,eyes growing wide as she scans over you assessing the damage.

“My lady, yes, he does. You see when the war was announced and after my brother’s death, we knew someone from our family would have to fight. My father’s leg as you know isn’t... as it used to be, and my younger brother while talented in many ways, cannot hold a blade to save his life. My mother’s grief was already far too much for her to lose another child.” You say, eyes risking tears as she meets her gaze.

“So they sent you?” she explains to herself.

“Yes my lady I was the best fighter in the family, or the most skilled at least.”

“Well, we will not make your brother come to fight, but you cannot stay in the army,” she explains softly, hand running up and down your arms in reassurance.

“She saved my life today,” Robb interjects and Cat looks at you as you look at him.

“Then I am indebted to you.” She expresses.

“As am I,” Robb states the two of you not having dropped eye contact, much to the notice of Cat.

“Lady Catelyn, I am a capable fighter, but if you will not allow me to so, at least allow me to tend to the wounded or to serve you in some other manner. I am here after all, put me to use.” you say and she lets out a sigh.

“Well, if you believe yourself able to defend yourself, and if what my son says is true then I would be remiss to send you home, though you will not sleep out with the rest of the army, you will stay with me.” she says.

“And during the battle you will remain close to me,” Robb stresses “not for your protection, but for mine”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1 year later (Age 20)

Robb watches as you kill another soldier, the sight never failing to impress him. You had remained close over the past year, both in and out of the battlefield. He kept you close at all costs, your company bringing him some semblance of joy, even in his darkest moments. Rumours swirled amongst the men and the other kingdoms, though nothing between the two of you had come to fruition. Due to the colour of your hair, the enemy soldiers had dubbed you the white wolf, in an attempt to link the Starks with the treacherous Targaryens. While the insinuations at your extracurricular activities with Robb pushed the narrative that he was impure, that northerners were savages, who did not abide by the values of the seven kingdoms.

As you wipe the blood from your eyes, an arrow catches you in the shoulder, the force knowing you back into a tree. Robb is at your side in record time, his hand stopping yours from pulling the weapon out.

“Medic!” he shouts, eyes not leaving yours.

“Go! you need to lead your people, I will be fine,” you emphasize and he shakes his head “Robb, it is a shoulder, nothing of importance lives there.”

“No but it is attached to something of the utmost importance.”

“Go you have a war to win,” you state as the medic helps you to your feet and brings you back across the line.

You sit in Robbs tent, despite your insistence at being treated in the same manner as the other soldiers, he had demanded you be brought there instead. A skilled nurse had removed the arrow from your shoulder just as you heard the rambunctious cheers of the men outside, victory had been secured. Unsurprising considering Robbs keen strategic mind, he was smarter than you'd have accredited him for in your youth. He enters the tent blood spatter still on his face, seeing you alive and fine he takes the moment to remove his armour. He pulls his undershirt off and walks to the water basin wiping himself clean of the sweat and grim coating his skin. Your eyes watch his bare skin intently, studying every scar, every freckle. He grabs a fresh cloth dunking it the basin and wringing it out before heading over to you. He kneels before you, staring up at you eyes telling you to drop the blood soaked rag currently held to your wound, and you oblige.

“I must confess I long hoped to share an intimate moment with you, though these circumstances are not as I imagined,” he says, gently dabbing at your wound, you smile at his concentration.

“And under what circumstances would you have hoped to be intimate with me, my king? At one of your fancy parties, in the secrecy of a barn, somewhere no one would know you had been with a Targaryen girl.” You ask trying to keep your eyes forwards and not at his muscular physique.

“Every man in Winterfell had dreamed of sharing a moment like that with you, though none have found any luck,” he says, standing up and walking back over to the basin.

“I have no need for a husband nor do I have the want to be wife,” you say, watching the muscles of his arm flex as he wrigns out the rag.

“and what about a queen?” he queries, as his hand braces against your thigh, continuing to clean your wound, his eyes still focused on the gash.

“Do you ask all your foot soldiers such bold questions,” you quip, laughing at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

“Only the ones naked in my chambers,” he retorts, eyes darting up a grin plastered to his face.

“A bare shoulder is hardly naked in your chambers,” you state, and he raises his eyebrows mischievously.

“My fondness for you was never allowed,” he admits, dabbing the cloth into a salve and applying it to the wound.

“Oh wasn’t it,” you ask as he looks up to you

“No, my mother feared one of us would ruin you,”

“A Targaryen In the north, perhaps it was fear of you boys being ruined.” you laugh, but when you look at him the tone has shifted.

‘When that arrow hit you, my feelings were confirmed, I no longer wish to be more than a few feet from you at any given moment. I wish to marry you. If you'll allow me”

“Don’t be stupid my king, you’re to be married to a princess from what I understand.”

“I'll be married to whom I please” he assures.

“Robb is that wise?” you question, unfamiliar with the high stakes games played with marriage.

“The Frey’s will recover besides, we’ve crossed their bridge already, and I have no love for anyone but you.”

“Love? We barely know each other,” you say.

“Only our whole lives,” he reminds you.

“I fear you’ll wake up tomorrow and regret your words, so I will not answer you tonight.”

“Then I will return to these chambers tomorrow morning and restate my intentions to make you my wife.”

“What will they say if you allow me to take your bed for the night?” you ponder aloud.

“I guess we shall see” he states, slinging his bloodied shirt over his shoulder.

“Goodnight my King” you offer, watching in amusement as he attempts to find the tents exit without turning around.

“It’s Robb. For you, it's always just Robb”

True to his word he returned the next day and asked again, and this time you accepted. You married a few days later under an old willow tree, with Catelyn and a few others standing witness. The morning after your wedding you awake in his chambers, the sun yet to rise. Robb snores faintly beneath you, the warmth of the fire sending a chill up your skin that had become exposed in the night. You scan over his features, a peacefulness you hadn’t before on his face. You reach over brushing the white patch of hair amongst the mass of soft brown curls on his head. As you do his eyes open looking over to you propping himself up on his elbow and learning over to kiss your forehead.

“What is it my love?” you ask, kissing his cheek, then his lips .

“I need you to do something,” he says, serious as always.

“What we just did wasn't enough, my king? How else may I please you tonight,” you offer hands dancing across his chest, he grins shaking his head slightly.

“You have pleased me in every way imaginable for the past year, and even more tonight. This favour isn't a pleasure of the flesh however, I need you to complete a task. You’re the only one I can trust,” he states.

“You shift up to face him, the furs falling off you slightly, “find the Targaryen girl. I wish to make an ally of her, to destroy the Lannister once and for all. You are likely the only family she has left, she may listen to you.”

“I'll do what I can, and I'll do it fast, I do not wish to be parted from you for long.” you admit as his hand traces over your back.

“Take this with you, that way i'll be protecting you even while we are apart,” he leans over grabbing his dagger, the one made for him by his father, offering it to you.

“Robb I…” you begin.

“Will return it to me a fortnight from now when you come back. I suggest we make the most of tonight, so you have another reason to return to me,” he states

“I'll always return to you, even in death,” you reassure and he wraps the blanket back over you pulling you tightly to his chest. And so as Robb took his seat in the halls of Walder Frey to watch his supposed bride marry another man, you were catching a boat destined for Dorne.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Present day (Age 21)

“Come with me now Lady Stark, your life depends on it,” the stranger says, pulling you to your feet and shuffling you into a nearby tavern ushering you quickly up the stairs. You see a pile of clothes laid out on the bed and immediately strip, all notions of decency erased in favour of time.

“You must disappear, make them think you are dead,” he says, averting his eyes as you change into clothes typical of local mercenaries.

“Who killed him, what happened?” you ask, needing some kind of answers.

“There is no time, and it's safer if you do not know.” He says eyes darting from you to the door.

“I have a right to..”

“The Freys betrayed you, everyone at the wedding is dead, you have no claim to Winterfell. The Lannisters have taken the North”

“Everyone at the wedding..” you echo, sitting on the bed

“Stay here..” the blue bearded stranger says, returning a few moments later with a cloak, sword and black dye in hand, placing them down and grabbing for the clothes and the dagger on the floor, Robbs dagger.

“That stays” you stress grabbingthe dagger from his reach.

“It’s too…” he starts

“It stays, it's all I have left of him,” you whisper harsher than intended, fighting back tears. He nods and you take it from him. You grab the dye from his hand and rub it through your hair, staining it a deep ember.

“Keep your eyes down, they're the only thing we can’t disguise,” he states

“Who are you, why are you helping me?” you question memorizing the man's face.

“You share a common enemy with powerful people. You have allies here. Goodbye Lady Stark I hope we meet again,” he says, and with a swift turn he exits the tavern leaving you alone with your thoughts. You wait a moment before donning the cloak and pulling up your hood. You walk out the tavern, putting as much distance between you and the docks as possible. Keeping your eyes down as men scoured the streets for the person you once were

#oberyn x reader #oberyn martell x reader #prince oberyn x reader #robb stark x reader #oberyn x you #oberyn martell #game of thrones fanfiction #oberyn martell x you

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buglife · 3 years

Text

Bend and Not Break - Ch 4: A Scar

Read here on AO3 :3

Contains 100% more smooches!

Xena stepped lightly as she opened the door to one of the interrogation rooms, narrowing her eyes as she adjusted to the dim light. The room had been quickly converted to a makeshift recovery room, the table that usually sat in the middle of the room had been pushed aside and replaced with a cot. Said cot was loaded with pillows and blankets in an effort to take as much pressure off the occupant's injuries as possible. Resting peacefully on it was Poppy, the scorpion rescued from the basement of a disgraced noble and had her venom forcibly extracted by torture. She seemed to be doing much better, her body was now criss-crossed with bandages and she was no longer twitching. She seemed to be sleeping at the moment.

She took a look at the clipboard left behind on the table where Monomon’s notes were scribbled. Electrical burns, blunt force trauma, eye damage, nerve damage...the list seemed to go uncomfortably long. She was glad she managed to get to her in time, but was disappointing that she and the other knights didn’t find out about the assassination plot sooner. Maybe they could have prevented a lot of suffering, but she couldn’t know for sure.

“Hello?” Poppy blinked awake, most likely from hearing Xena walk around. She was lying on her back and couldn’t twist her head to see who had entered the room. “Who’s there?” She asked, a tinge of worry to her voice.

“I am Xena, one of the Great Knights, I was there when you were rescued.” She pulled up a chair next to the cot and sat down. “Do you remember me?”

Poppy took a moment to breathe and then smiled the best she could through half a bandaged face. “I do.” She sounded coherent, but her speech was slurred and slow.

“You look much better,” Xena smiled in what she hoped was in a comforting way. “You must be on the good stuff, right?”

“Yeah.” Poppy didn’t bother trying to nod. “Nothin’ hurts. It’s great.”

“Well I won’t keep you long, I just need to ask a few questions and then you can go back to resting, okay?”

“Mmhmm.” The scorpion mumbled softly and did her best to focus her one working eye to the ant’s face. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I’m asking for. Do you remember how you were abducted?” Xena had a quill and a tablet ready to take notes. “Take your time and try to remember what you can, okay?”

Poppy mulled over the question for a while, and started speaking. “I was at my flower shop in...in Deepnest. Some Hallownest bug came in...I asked if they wanted flowers...I grow flowers by the way and make them into arrangements. It’s nice.”

Xena nodded, knowing full well that she was on some of those good painkillers, and would probably will go off into tangents. “What kinda bug came in?”

“It was that um….beetle. Yes, that beetle. From...the place.” Poppy swallowed thickly, “Where they were...were...hurting me…”

“Don’t worry about him, he can’t hurt you anymore.” The ant put as much conviction as she could muster into her voice. “He won’t be hurting anyone else, after today.”

“Good,” She wheezed a little, catching her breath.

“What did the beetle want from you?” Xena pressed gently. “I think I could wager a guess but I need to hear it from you.”

“He uh...he asked to buy my venom...and I told him I sell flowers, not venom! It was weird...and creepy , and its against the law cause um...uh...it’s dangerous. You hafta have a license to get some and you get it from the...oh...what do you call it…” The scorpion hrmed to herself. “Oh I can’t remember, it’s the place where you can get dangerous stuff if you are a uh...professional? Scientist?”

“A supplier is what I think you mean. Where controlled substances can be given out dependent on research or medical use.”

“Yes! That! Well he got mad and started saying something about the fate of bug kind and how there was monsters in Hallownest? He said I should work with them to save everyone and I told him to leave cause I’m just a flower bug. And then something hit me on the back of my head.” She reached up with a free arm to touch the back of her bandaged head. It looked like a mess when she was first found and Xena was glad that Poppy couldn’t feel any pain right now.

“Then I woke up all tied up and the beetle was there with some other people. He said that I was going to help them get rid of the monsters and I told them I wouldn’t! Then they...they….” She sniffled, her eye tearing up.

“Then they hurt you and forcibly took your venom.” Xena knew when to stop asking questions. Poppy was starting to get a little upset, and she felt awful that she even had to bring up what happened to her so soon. But, she had to get this down for the record, and it was better to do it now while Poppy wasn’t in physical pain than wait and do it later.

Poppy nodded in response. “Mmhmm. I don’t know how long I was there.”

“That’s okay, Right now what I need from you is to rest and get better, okay? We’ll send word to your Queen and Princess and they’ll probably send someone over to help you home once you are well enough to travel.”

“Okay...thank you.” Poppy sighed. She wasn’t going to be able to stay awake anyway with the meds she was on and was quickly falling back into the realm of dreams. “There'll...be someone outside...right? Watching?”

“There are, I promise.” Xena nodded. “Nobody will let you get hurt again.”

“Mhmm...thanks…” Poppy fell asleep, a combination of reassurance and the ‘good stuff’. Xena took a bit of time to make sure she was comfortable, and then left the room. She glanced at the two guardsmen stationed outside.

“Nobody gets in that isn’t a Knight, the King, or Monomon, got it?”

They both saluted and stayed in place.

“Good...now excuse me, I have someone to see.”

She turned and headed towards the holding cells. The cells were kept underground, and as she descended the stairs she began to hear the annoying sound of metal scraping together. There was the sound of someone loudly complaining before descending into shrieks as the scraping got louder. She took a moment to rub her eyes and sighed, locking the gate behind her and stepping into the corridor.

Tiso was just sitting there, making god awful noises as he happily ran a fork over a metal plate. He was making sure to press extra hard, making terrible squeaking noises that made Xena’s antenna twitch under her helmet. The ex-noble within the cell was close to tears, looking around to Xena as soon as he saw her.

“Oh, oh bless you. Please! Please make him stop!” The jewel beetle was in the dirtiest cell they had, tear tracks marking his face and generally looking disheveled. He crawled to the bars on his knees, gripping the bars with shaky hands. “Please! It hurts!”

“I’m not even doing anything! I’m trying to serenade you with my beautiful music, you uncultured bastard.” Tiso scraped the fork loudly and it set the hairs on her carapace standing up and the beetle to cry out in pain. “It’s not my fault you can’t appreciate artistic talent. Frankly, I’m insulted.”

“That’s enough for now, Tiso.” Xena sighed and dug out her keys. “Monomon needs this guy and she’s going to be pissed if we’re late.”

“Oh?” He casually tossed the dishes to the side. “Going to be testing the antidote then?”

“Testing the what now?” The beetle looked around, confused.

“Most likely, yeah.” Xena ignored the beetle. “Now that she has a pure sample of the poison as well, she thinks she’ll know for sure if the antidote is legit or not after a couple hours.”

“Hours?” Said beetle was rapidly turning pale as he realized what was about to happen.

“Did I fucking stutter?” Xena snarled, opening the cell door. “Get your ass out here or else I’ll drag you out.”

“You can’t do that to me! I’m Lord Maximus Pennington Chrysoch the third!” They tried to dodge her hands, but she was too fast. She seized him by the wrists and began to bodily drag him out.

“I don’t give a fuck who you are! A traitor is a traitor to me.” She looked to Tiso. “Help me drag this sack of shit to Monomon and then you can take a break.”

“Hells yeah!” He jumped up, grabbing the free wrist of the condemned and hauled them to their feet. “Think I’ll have time to head to the museum to see Myla?” The beetle started wibbling and sobbing, but was completely ignored.

“Eh, take Cloth with you and you all can have an hour together. You’ll have to be back at a reasonable time though, we need all hands on deck with this situation.”

“Yeah I got ya. Thanks.” Tiso was noticeably happier, cheerfully dragging the sobbing beetle down the corridor and to their fate. He didn’t care what happened to them, all he could think about now was finally getting to smooch his girlfriends.

---

Monomon arrived outside the door to the royal suite, a capped syringe gripped gently but firmly in her tentacles. As soon as the antidote proved to actually work, and not just be another poison, she rushed as quickly as she could to the top floor. Hollow was standing guard outside of the room and nodded to her. Seeing that there wasn’t time for chit chat, she attempted to open the door.

To her surprise, it was blocked off. She looked at the knob, confused, and tried to push again. “What’s going on here?”

Hollow chirped to get her attention, and signed. <”Father is in there. I think he is sitting in front of the door.”>

“Mato? Of course he would.” She knocked on the door. “Mato! It’s Monomon!”

There was a shuffle from the other side, and the door was pulled open to indeed reveal the Nailmaster. He seemed rather rough looking, he must have booked it from the Howling Cliffs as fast as he could. “Monomon,” he nodded, and stood out of the way.

She floated inside to see what was going on, eyes immediately going to the nest that took up a good portion of the room.

Ghost was cuddled around Quirrel, doing their best to hold him in a way that would hopefully reassure him that someone was watching over him, but not tight enough to harm him. Quirrel was still unconscious, breathing heavily and shivering and once in a while his nerves would shudder, making him twitch and spasm. Ghost was already awake, no doubt hearing the door open. They looked at her, the dark fathomless eyes behind their mask tired and fearful. Their eyes darted from the door to the syringe held in her tentacle.

“Is that…” Their voice was so small and weak, but there was a bloom of hope behind it that Monomon could feel.

“Yes.” She drifted closer and uncapped the syringe. “We have it.”

They sat up quickly. “What do you want me to do?”

“Hold one of his arms still, I don’t want the needle to break if he has a spasm while injecting him.” She checked over the syringe, going over the calculations in her head one more time. She had already triple checked everything, but it wouldn't hurt to check it one more time. Ghost sat up, pulling Quirrel into their lap and used their lower set of arms to cradle him, and the top set to grasp an arm and hold it straight. Quirrel continued to shiver, making a raspy noise of discomfort from being moved.

“Good, like that.” With Ghost holding him, it was easy for her to find the joint in his elbow and sterilize it. Then, she injected the antidote slowly, watching the liquid within disperse into his hemo system.

“There…it should take effect soon.” She deposited the used needle in a box she carried to be sterilized later. “We may not notice a difference at first, but within half an hour he should be more comfortable.”

Ghost kept Quirrel in their embrace, resting their chin on his head and tucking him up close. “Thank you.” They said, moving slightly to adjust themselves. Monomon watched them tilt their head slightly, listening to his breathing as he continued to wheeze.

“How did you get that?” Mato had stayed back to let her do her thing, but now that there wasn’t any needles involved, he approached the nest again.

“A combination of work from the Great Knights, good old science, and some very helpful mandatory volunteers.”

“That’s fucking terrifying.” Mato took a step away from her.

“It’s what they deserved. They at least did something useful with their lives instead of just being executed.”

“How many prisoners are left?” Ghost’s mental voice was whisper quiet, as though they were scared that they were going to disturb Quirrel’s rest.

“I’m not sure. Tiso has the numbers. The ring leader is still alive, he was the lucky one who tested the antidote. What are you going to do about them?”

Ghost was silent for a moment, idly smoothing back Quirrel’s antenna as he lay in their embrace. “I think I will wait for Quirrel to weigh in on it all. He was...the most hurt.”

“He wasn’t the only one hurt,” Monomon drifted down to the floor to sit, curling her tentacles under herself. “There was another victim who is thankfully alive. You’ll have a report on that soon, but you may want to keep her in mind too, as well as yourself and my son.”

“It seems like the best thing to do is to let them stew in their own fear and guilt until you have a chance to deal with them.” Mato also sat, leaning against the wall. “They are not going to have any type of peace as long as they are down there with Tiso at the same time.”

Ghost actually chirped a laugh at that. “That is true.”

As they conversed, Ghost noticed Quirrel subtly shift a little over the course of twenty so odd minutes. His twitching was definitely dying down, leaving him still for the first time since he was poisoned. They could hear his breath change as well, the raspy wheeze was getting smoother and less labored. It would be a while before he was back to normal, but just being able to actually rest was something sorely needed for the pillbug.

“He’s doing better.” The vessel sagged in relief, tears once again welling up in their eyes. “He can breathe now.”

Monomon floated up from her position on the floor and placed a tentacle on the pillbug's forehead. She felt it for a moment before she spoke. “His fever has gone down.”

“He’ll be okay now, right? He’ll be okay?” Ghost shivered, black streaks dripping from their eyes as they pulled Quirrel closer to their chest.

“Yes Ghost, he’ll be okay.”

Ghost broke down into tears, a combination of relief, love, and the bitter fear of loss. Once they started they couldn’t stop, the emotional dam had broken. The sheer stress they had been bundling up for the past two days refused to be ignored any longer. Thick, choking sobs filled the room as they held their husband close. He’ll be okay, they won’t have to say goodbye so soon. They knew one day they would have to, but for now, he’ll be okay. He’ll live and they can continue to share the love that never ran out in their heart. He’ll be okay.

Mato and Monomon both embraced them, and for once, they let their family help them carry the huge amount of stress and emotions swirling around in their void. They kept repeating that simple phrase to themselves, over an over, to keep them grounded in the here and now.

He’ll be okay.

---

Myla hummed to herself as she looked over a crystal in her claws. She turned it around in the light, squinting through a monocular as she studied it’s structure. It was a beautiful fluorite specimen, still rough and unpolished. Broad bands of green, purple, and blues swirled around the stone in a rainbow of colors. She just needed to do a little cleanup on it and then it would be ready for display.

She looked at the basket of rocks on the floor next to her work station, all of them mined and found by her. She was pretty proud that she didn’t lose her knack for finding the beautiful and unusual. The infection left her unable to mine professionally anymore, but she had enough energy to go on little expeditions, following her heart as she explored the corners of the kingdom.

Of course, she didn’t go alone. Either Tiso or Cloth would come with her, keeping her protected as she jumped into holes to hack away at the rocks. She wasn’t very strong, but she can still knee cap people who threaten her, and she keeps her pickaxe nice and sharp. It was fun! Especially when she could spend the time with her partners.

She sighed, she hadn’t seen Tiso and Cloth for several days now. She knew what happened, the whole kingdom knew by now. She knew they had important work to do, but she still missed them.

As if the universe was listening to her thoughts, there was a knock on her office door. She glanced at her clock, it was about time for lunch. Maybe it was a coworker asking if she’d like something?

“Come in!” She called.

The door opened, and to her delight, her two knights tried to squeeze their way inside at the same time. Tiso gasped, smushed up against the door frame as Cloth tried to force her massive bulk through, getting equally wedged in.

“Cloth! Back up!” Tiso kicked his legs that were a good foot of the ground. The force of the attempt to beat Cloth inside had angled his body upwards to get stuck on the frame, one arm free and trying to pull himself free.

“No! You back up!” She retorted, trying to squeeze her shoulders in. “I want to kiss her first!”

“Like hell you -wheeze-” Tiso started going a little blue, a stark contrast to his black shell as he got squashed harder.

Myla never in her whole life, expected that she’d ever be a girl that someone would fight over, let alone two. She knew they were just playing around and joking with their fake little rivalry thing, it was endearing, but sometimes Cloth forgot her own strength. She remembered once when Cloth gave Tiso a ‘gentle’ punch to the arm and accidentally sent him through the window.

“How about both of you back out, and I’ll come to you?”

Cloth and Tiso looked at each other. Cloth nodded and with some effort, pulled herself back and out of the door-frame. Tiso, no longer supported, just fell on the ground and wheezed for breath. Cloth helpfully picked him up and set him on his feet again and dusted off his armor.

Myla giggled, bouncing forward to leap at the two of them and was caught into a three way hug. It was a happy moment of hugs and little smooches that was sorely needed after days of being apart. “I’m so glad you two are here!”

“Unfortunately, we only got a short amount of time, then we have to go back.” Cloth replied, sounding very apologetic.

“Yeah...we still got idiots to process.” Tiso took the time to give them both a nuzzle. “Duty calls and all that.”

“That’s okay, I’m just glad you’re here for now!” Myla wriggled to escape the hug, and promptly headed back inside the office. “I processed some new minerals if you’d like to take a look!”

“Of course we would!” Tiso booked it to the door.. and ended up getting wedged in again when Cloth tried to get in at the same time. This time it was worse, because Cloth didn’t put her club down first, and Myla could hear the wood creaking under the strain of it all. She rubbed the back of her head as she watched them both struggle.

She wondered if she should just have a second door put in.

---

It felt like ages since Grimm started talking, telling Quirrel of fantastical worlds both old and new. It was fascinating, hearing of so many places that were different and unique. For the most part Quirrel listened, asking a question here and there. It seemed like the Nightmare King had visited the places Quirrel had during his wanderings on the surface world, and offered some interesting insight to things he may have missed.

“It seems our time is nearly up.” Grimm folded his claws together under his chin, looking at the pill bug who sat in front of him. He had just finished telling Quirrel about a colorful world with a legend of an eternal sprout that was constantly being searched for. “You will need to wake up soon.”

“Really?” Quirrel leaned back in his chair and poked himself a couple times. “If I’m well enough now to wake up, how come I don’t feel any different?”

“It’s because your mind is protecting itself. You won’t feel pain while in a dream. I can however, change that aspect if it is a nightmare, but I have no reason to do so here.” Grimm gave him a sinister grin, exposing many needle sharp teeth, but Quirrel wasn’t afraid.

“Thanks.” Quirrel sighed, and put down his cup. As soon as it hit the table, it began to dissolve into essence, floating away in motes of white and red. In fact, it seemed like everything that wasn’t Grimm or himself was beginning to look blurry and grainy.

“I am not going to lie. You will most likely be in for a lot of pain once you awaken, but you must wake up.” Grimm looked to the side and off to the distance, watching the walls of the cozy room fade into white. “But you will live.”

“Will we ever get to chat again sometime? Despite the circumstances, I quite enjoyed our conversation. It would be nice to revisit it sometime.”

Grimm smiled softly, hiding his wicked looking teeth once again. “Of course we will.”

“Great!” Quirrel watched the last motes of color leave the dream, leaving nothing but a white, featureless void. Somehow they were still sitting, despite the lack of anything coherent around them. “Hrm...how do I wake up then?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Grimm laughed, his voice distorting and echoing, as though retreating backwards. “You /[Quirrel]/ just need to /open[ed]/ your /[his] eyes./”

Suddenly, he was awake.... and he hated it.

Quirrel’s first thought was a mess of confusion. He had managed to open his eyes, a jarring jump from the dream world to reality. It was easy, but hard at the same time.

What Quirrel managed to see through his stinging eyes was nothing but a blurry mess of darkness and shapes. As soon as his brain caught up with the rest of his body, a deep sharp ache radiated from within his core, spreading all the way to the tips of his limbs. It felt like he tried to cuddle an ooma and paid the price for it. He had no idea how, but even his mandibles hurt. At least Grimm warned him, but it still sucked.

He could tell he was lying on something soft and warm at least. Wriggling his antenna (with a wince, cause how the fuck is his antenna sore too!?!) slightly gave him the usual smells of his home in the palace. His mind was still a little foggy, so when he detected three other people around him, he wasn’t quite sure who they were at first. It was silent, so he couldn’t identify anyone by voices. He was exhausted. Everything hurt. Breathing hurt. Having his eyes open hurt. It sucked and he resolved to complain about it soon enough. He had no clue what happened other than 1. he got poisoned and 2. he got sick from it.

What he needed right now, was his spouse. They probably knew what the hell happened and could fill him in on what he missed. He didn’t even know how long he was out for. It didn’t seem so long while he conversed with Grimm, but he suspected that time doesn’t really hold all that much meaning in a dream. He moved, at least, he tried to, gasping in pain as his hand squeezed something hard and slender. He nearly jumped out of his chitin when something squeezed back. A shape moved in front of his vision, a blurry mess of white that seemed to shine in the darkness.

“Quirrel?” The voice was tinged with the feeling of hope as it whispered through his head. He knew that voice, and he relaxed.

“Hello, love,” he wheezed. His throat was dry and scratchy and he coughed on his words. He closed his eyes for a moment as the blur moved and tripped his sense of vertigo. He heard a chirp in response before he was being hauled upright and held with four arms. The sudden movement flipped his stomach around and he groaned in response. “Ugh…”

“I’msorryi’msorryi’msorry.” He was being peppered with kisses all over his face as a soft whining noise emitted from a throat that was voiceless. He managed to lift up a shaking hand to rest it on the side of Ghost’s face, happy he didn’t accidentally poke them in the eyes since he couldn't see. He rubbed them as well as he could, struggling with the effort of keeping his arm up.

“It’s alright... dear…” It was difficult to talk, he had to stop and take a breath between each word. As much as he loved kisses, it was starting to overwhelm him, so he tried to soothe his spouse. “I’m fine.”

“You are not fine. I...I…” There was another wheezing sob and he was thankfully nuzzled instead of kissed. “You could have died.”

“Heh...heh...like you could...get rid of me...that easy.” He dropped his arm, no longer able to keep it up. His hand was captured in one of Ghost’s, and they rubbed it gently. “I plan to...be around...for much longer…You couldn’t...keep me away...if you tried…” He was losing his voice and he swallowed with a wince. He opened his eyes again, it was still blurry, but he could see clearer shapes. A blob of green and a blob of red was approaching, mixing together as he struggled to focus.

“Here you are, my dear.” A glass of water was placed in his free hand and encircled with a tentacle. “Sip slowly.”

“Hi mom…” He knew what his mom felt like, how she always had this sort of static energy around her, like you could get a good zap if you pissed her off. The same tentacle that used to rock him to sleep at night when he was a pip helped him drink and he gratefully swallowed down the water. It was absolute bliss. He may be king, but all the finery in the world couldn’t compare to that nice cold glass of water.

“You gave us a hell of a scare, how are you feeling?” Oh, that must have been Mato. It made sense that he would be here. The blurs of red mixed with gray and was certainly big enough to be the Nailmaster. They moved to stand closer to Ghost...at least he thinks they did. It was hard to tell for the moment.

“Hurts.” Quirrel could have lied but his mother was right there and she would have no trouble putting him in the corner for it. “All over. Hard to see.”

“I figured as much,” Monomon was still holding the glass of water for him, and another tentacle bumped against his mandibles. “Open up, I have something for the pain.”

He did just that, letting the pills go down with another few swallows of water. He imagined that he should feel hungry or something too, but he just didn’t feel like it. She must have sensed the question because she continued talking.

"Let’s wait for half an hour and see if you can handle some soup, okay?”

Quirrel nodded with a sigh. He was awake but tired again, it was rather frustrating. He closed his eyes again, letting them rest as he just laid there and breathed. He could feel the medicine begin to work, a numb tingling working down his limbs and into his core. Soon, every movement didn’t result in pain, and he managed to sit up a little. Ghost helped, sitting so that his back could rest against this chest and belly.

“What happened?” It seemed like a sensible question to ask. He was not surprised that Ghost was the one to answer.

“There was an assassination attempt and you were poisoned by the nail that cut you. The Great Knights led an investigation and arrested the ringleader and several members of the group. They are still investigating, but they are confident they caught most to all of them. You were unconscious for almost three days.”

“Three days?!” Quirrel raised his voice at that. Three whole days? As in seventy two hours?

“Yes, three days.” Monomon piped up. “If it makes you feel any better, half the kingdom has been keeping vigil outside, hoping that you would get better.”

Quirrel blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“She isn’t lying.” Mato was the next to say something, his voice moving around the room. “I nearly had to fight my way inside, there were so many people out there.”

Quirrel...didn’t know how to feel about that. On one hand, he didn’t feel like he was a person who would warrant a three day vigil, and on the other, he was touched and humbled. He had always been a bug who was fairly social and had a lot of friends, but to have that many bugs sitting around and waiting for news about him...it was astonishing. It must mean that he is doing something right.

“You two need rest,” Mato continued. “Ghost? There’s a pot of soup in the icebox, just warm it up. I’ll go out and tell the masses that things are okay so they can go home.”

“That is a good idea.” Ghost leaned their head down to nuzzle Quirrel some more. “Thank you.”

“And you, my little scholar, are going to stay in bed.” Monomon added. “Strict bed rest until further notice, got it? I will know if you get out of bed, trust me.”

“Yes mom.” Quirrel believed her.

Soon, both parents departed, and once again the room was quiet, save for a soft rumbling. Quirrel realized that Ghost was purring as they cuddled against them. “Stay with me...for a little?” He asked. Now that their parents were gone, it felt strange, like he was a small thing in a sea of uncertainty. Most likely, it’s trauma from the experience, but he didn’t think he could stand being alone for very long now. Now that he was awake, he wanted to stay awake, but he doubts that his body will let him for long.

“I would never leave you,” came the reply. “Everything is on hold for now and will be for a little while.”

“You can’t just... shut down the government...love.” Quirrel chuckled. “Even though...I think most would...enjoy the vacation.”

“I am a king, I can do what I want. And if I want everyone to fuck off so I can care for my beloved husband who survived an attack on his life, I will make it so.” There was a hint of amusement in their voice as they gave him a nuzzle.

“What about...the assassins?” He would not be surprised if they were all dead by now, but he still wanted to know.

“The knights have them. We can talk about it later. I would rather kiss you and talk about how much I love you, if that’s okay.”

Quirrel managed a laugh as he relaxed against his spouse, feeling happy and full of love. “You know what? I would...like that very much.”

26 notes · View notes

tabletoptrinketsbyjj · 3 years

Text

Trinkets, Valuable, 9: More useful than simple baubles touched mystery, these items have either a clear purpose, a reliable ability or are made from a fairly costly material. The items could fetch fair prices to collectors of the strange, jewelers, antique or art dealers or simply to barter with if the owner is short on actual currency.

A collection of mink furs and lightweight silver plating expertly tailored to resemble a suit of plate armor. This was either created as some sort of artistic expression or for a foppish noble who wanted to play at looking like a knight.

A tiny adamantine box filled with curiously strong mints that refills every week.

Portable Shade: A circle of black silk three feet in diameter, but can be folded up into the size of a handkerchief. When unfolded, the material floats into the air and hovers over the bearer's head, moving as he does but no more than 30 feet per round. It automatically tilts to block the sun's rays, providing all the benefits of a parasol, but leaving the bearer's hands free for combat or spellcasting. Folding up a portable shade (An action equivalent to drawing a weapon) ends its effect.

A whale shaped, crystal bottle filled with ambergris.

An ivory signal horn that produced a clear, even, high note. The noise isn't loud, exactly more like it makes everything else quiet around it so that it's instantly the only sound in the area and everything resonated with its pure, simple strength. It is natural and perfect, blowing a single note that sounds like a grand chord before fading away like it had never been.

A large gear of solid iron, enchanted to turn constantly by means of a circular magical diagram inscribed on its face. Although it turns slowly, it does so with apparently unlimited torque; it will turn at that constant rate no matter how much resistance is put on it.

A gold pocket watch with an acorn engraved on the cover. On the inside of the cover will be an illusionary image of the most heinous deed the bearer has ever committed.

A heavy stock business card, coated in wax and decorated with a stylized gold trim. Precisely calligraphed words at the bottom detail how the bearer is a member of the imperial household of Yaret and is entitled the protection of the Yaret name. There is a red thumbprint is the center of the card and the entire object looks impressively difficult to counterfeit. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize the house of Yaret as an ancient noble family with significant political clout.

A shimmering violin carved from elderwood. The instrument has a deep amethyst luster and golden inscriptions in an elvish script. The story tells of a tryst between the God of Forest, and the Mountain Goddess.

A golden falcon statuette encrusted from beak to claw with rarest jewels.

—Keep reading for 90 more trinkets.

—Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.

A tiny adamantine box filled with curiously strong mints that refills every week.

A whale shaped, crystal bottle filled with ambergris.

A gold pocket watch with an acorn engraved on the cover. On the inside of the cover will be an illusionary image of the most heinous deed the bearer has ever committed.

A golden falcon statuette encrusted from beak to claw with rarest jewels.

A bundle of excellent quality, thickly furred otter pelts tied together with silken cords and wrapped in a protective oilskin case.

A single bone earring that when worn, allows the bearer to speak the language of the undead, but only to say: "I don't actually speak Necril. I only know that sentence, and this one explaining it.” The bearer is not granted the ability to understand the language and doesn’t comprehend what they just said unless they are already fluent.

A light blue orb that is cool to the touch and floats and glows when it's thrown in the air. It hovers five feet off of the ground, shines with the intensity of a candle and always appears to have small snowflakes orbiting it. The floating and light effects cease functioning when grasped or stowed away.

A decorative Random Sword with a hilt consisting of a round pommel, a flat grip and an arched crossguard. The grip is rectangular in cross-section and its hard edges make it difficult to handle and impractical for fighting, which is indicative of the sword's purely ceremonial usage. The pommel and the crossguard are made of silver, while the core of the grip is a brass chest encasing the tang of the blade. All parts of the hilt are covered with golden plates, which are engraved with rounded styli and decorated with niello that contrasts against the golden background.

A pair of silver goblets, decorated with a relief depicting two figures whose arms are entwined, each holding a goblet in their hand and drinking from them. The goblets are identical in appearance, even to the well-trained eye.

An indigo silk purse that belonged to a noble lady. It is intricately crusted with diamonds and sapphires in the pattern of the constellations.

A humanoid skull, which has two large, precious green jewels embedded in its eye sockets and similar gemstones for teeth.

An electrum cylinder the size of a man's thumb, engraved with geometric patterns. Holding it, one can feel a faint magnetic tug towards their head. If released near a person's face, it begins orbiting their head about a foot away until it's caught and stowed away.

A jeweled, ivory hair comb that resembles a great horned owl. Its golden topaz eyes appear to wink under moonlight.

Redhot Hammer: A set of smith's tools that have been enchanted to be able to work metal as if it was red hot without actually needing a forge or changing the temperature of the metal. A bearer proficient with blacksmithing tools does not require a hot forge to work metal but would still need a stump, pile of bricks or an anvil to hammer atop of.

A silk fan that entertains both its bearer and onlookers as it flutters. The fan's animated images show a flowering tree's blossoms first budding, then blooming, then blowing away in a breeze. The bearer is magically refreshed by the slight, fragrant gusts that come from this accessory.

A well-polished silver bowl, the bottom of which has a mirror-like quality. If the blood, hair, or skin of a creature along with a measure of pure rainwater is mixed in the bowl the mirrored bottom with reveal that person's deepest fears and anxieties.

Dragpipes: A set of bagpipes where the bag itself resembles a dragon’s skull. The horns are exaggerated to form the reeds while the player blows through the mouthpiece connected to the back of the neck. The instrument can be played like traditional bagpipes but it can also convincingly mimic the roars of various species of dragon if the bearer is proficient with mundane bagpipes.

A hand-sized black jade casket, lined with gold-shot red silks cradling a jade mushroom.

A carefully-coiled vine of white bleeding-heart, preserved in spirits within a globular glass flask. If used to strike an undead creature, the blossoms will cause damage double that of holy water and then fade into motes of light.

An egg shaped mask cut from an angular, opalescent crystal.

An opaque glass bottle sealed with wax filled with Feywine. Developed centuries ago by an elven wizard and alchemical hobbyist, Feywine is made from grapes grown in the Prime Material Plane combined with ones grown in the Feywild. Sourcing transplanar produce is difficult in the best of circumstances, and combined with the time dilation effect that travelers to the Feywild often experience, the handful of artisans who make Feywine can do so only occasionally. Feywine is dark purple in color, nearly black, but it shimmers when poured as if reflecting bright light. In a glass, it sparkles as if it were full of starlight. Feywine is simply delicious, supernaturally decadent, with a nose of leather and moist earth and dark, fruit-forward flavors.

Box of Smoking: A hollow cube of cedar one foot long on any side with a latched top. When up to two pounds meat and a pinch of salt are placed within and left for one hour, the box's magic smokes it to mouth-watering perfection.

A glittering silver dagger, with a jeweled golden hilt. The object is purely a showpiece and is an unbalanced, unsharpened, unwieldy weapon would be more of a hindrance than help in combat. It would look dazzling if worn on the hip to a formal event which is likely its intended use.

Reusable Writing Tablet: A rectangular slate tablet one foot by half a foot in size that can be drawn on simply by tracing a finger or stylus over the surface. The tablet creates clean white lines in contrast to the grey slate and can be wiped perfectly clean by shaking it vigorously for a few seconds.

A spherical astrolabe, small and brass, inlaid with gold leaf, without a stand. It has six rings, and none of the celestial details thereupon correspond with the earth's night sky. It has a loop upon which it might hang from a cord or chain.

Scarf of Illusory Strands: A bountiful scarf made of long, extremely fine strands of spider silk expertly woven together. Certain strands of the scarf can be tugged to alter the coloration of the scarf, which can change both color and pattern as well as produce a soft bio-luminescent glow of any color desirable.

Captain's Cat: A life sized, black ceramic cat that will animate into a semblance of life if a drop of blood taken from the captain of a ship is smeared on its forehead. The construct will then prowl the ship, until it hunts down and kills one mouse or rat and takes its kill back to where it was animated, whereupon it will return to a statue. The cat can be animated one per day and items like this are typically found on waterborne vessels.

Garment of Lust: A short generic tunic of filmy, expensive material, rumored to have been created by a goddess of desire and love. When worn, the garment transforms into any body garment (dress, lingerie, etc.) desired by the bearer, but it will always be provocatively cut, near diaphanous, or otherwise obviously sexually appealing. Though this item looks unsturdy, it is quite strong, and has the added side benefit of keeping the wearer comfortable in warm or cool weather, but will not protect from natural or magical extremes.

Saddle Blanket of Comfort: A well-made horse blanket with simple but colorful designs. If placed on a suitable mount (Donkey, riding dog, gryphon, goat, etc) the fabric automatically resizes to fit the creature and the material adjusts its own temperature. No matter what the environmental temperature is, the blanket will become either up to five degrees warmer or colder than the standard body temperature of the mount currently it. The mount will naturally make use of the blanket to find a temperature most comfortable for itself without any additional instruction or guidance. For some strange reason, the blanket's magical properties cannot be utilized by humanoids of any sort. Perhaps the creator was more fond of animals than people.

Dawa’s Scrollcase of Safekeeping: An embossed brass scrollcase decorated with scenes of everyday life in Hu Shan, a famous monk of a holy order dedicated to the documentation and preservation of knowledge. The twin endcaps are inset with alternating ivory and malachite wedges. Any item placed in the scrollcase is impervious to fire, moisture, and the effects of aging.

A large, artificial nose made of pure silver, etched with the image of a charging bull on the exterior. The interior of the prosthetic that directly touches the skin, displays celestial runes within an inverted five-pointed star.

Fork of Toasting: A fine silverware dining fork, that would be quite at home on a noble’s feast table. The first time per day that the fork is struck against a piece of glass or fine ceramic less than a cubic foot in size, the object reverberates much louder than it should, gaining in frequency until it shatters. Knowledgeable PC’s will remember stories of objects like these created by disgruntled servants, spiteful nobles and minor trickster gods who for one reason or another wish to upset the toasting of high class society.

Krakenesque Quiver: A sharkskin quiver worked with intricate designs of a monstrous squid destroying ships and eating sailors. Any ammunition kept within it, is sheathed in an illusion causing it to appears as one of the squid’s writhing tentacles. As soon as it’s removed it returns to its normal appearance.

Cerulean Candle: A foot-long blue wax candle, that’s engraved with flowing letters and decorative golden emblems. Creatures sleeping within 30 feet of its light experience unfamiliar but joyous dreams, clearly from the life’s of other creatures. The candle will burns indefinitely, never consuming its wick or wax and can be extinguished and relight as often as desired.

Shadowdancer: A one-foot-tall pink quartz statuette of a masked, dancing succubus. It somehow remains clearly visible in darkness, though it appears to shed no light. If the statue is held and moved about, it causes all shadows within 60 feet to dance about as if they were cast by flickering candlelight.

A brass oval that always displays the current temperature with a moving set of lines.

Eau de Faerie: A crystal nebulizer with a pink bulb that mists a pleasant floral perfume. The scent of the perfume lasts for one hour after application and makes you irresistible to pixies, sprites and other fey creatures. These creatures can smell you from up to 50 feet away and will attempt to touch you, unless you have shown yourself to be a threat to them. Goblins, hobgoblins, bugbears and other natural enemies of the fey can also smell the scent from 100 feet away, but they will become furious and attempt to seek out the source of the scent and destroy anyone wearing it.

A rusty old fishing hook which becomes a grappling hook when submerged in water for more than a few seconds. It reverts to its smaller form after being dry for one hour.

A pair of heavy earrings each bearing a sapphire carved in the shape of a leaping fish hanging inside a golden hoop.

Dwarven Mastbreaker: A particularly mischievous item that resembles a collar for giant animals and is comprised of two large halves, hinged in the middle. It is masterfully sculpted out of bronze and decorated with several dwarven runes. When clasped around the mast of a sailing ship, the runes glow orange and a soft humming sound can barely be heard as the device slowly spins around the outside of the mast. After one minute, the device will have cut through any mast, causing it to fall, possibly on the ship itself. The object was designed for sabotage but it can be used in a more mundane setting to cleanly cut down large trees in a single minute without much effort. The mastbreaker will function twice per day and it can be stopped at any time by unclasping it from the mast or tree it’s attached to.

An ornate chest made of solid gold, banded with silver, filigreed with platinum and encrusted with precious stones. Inside it is a stone tablet engraved with the words "The real treasure were the friends found along the way."

Animal Caller: A small carved wooden oval, with a hole at both ends and a piece of sinew strung across one of the holes. When the name of an animal is whispered into it and the bearer blows into it the Animal Caller will perfectly produce the mating call of that animal. The item is indispensable for use by hunters and rangers however it does have a niche use at confusing keen eared bird watchers.

A pair of wire and glass spectacles that fits most humanoids. While worn, the bearer is able to see musical notes as they emanate from musical instruments, creatures or objects. In additional the spectacles impart the bearer with the ability to read the notes and comprehend which notes are which.

Blanket of Warmth: A soft fur blanket makes whoever is touching it comfortably warm. The material magically eliminates sweat, and bodily odour on the area of the body it covers. No matter what the environmental temperature is, the blanket is always five degrees warmer than the standard body temperature of the species currently using it. ---Note: A human's average body temperature is 37° Celsius or 98.6° Fahrenheit.

A long, sleeveless surcoat covered in the holy symbols of the elven pantheon, embroidered with threads of precious metals. The garment is intended for ceremonial wear by the highest clerics. Stoles of four different colors accompany the garment, corresponding to the four seasons.

Decanter of Decanting: A crystal decanter that holds one gallon of liquid when full. When used to pour a liquid or powder, the bearer can always stop pouring at precisely the amount desired (Unless there is not enough to begin with), down to a single drop or grain. These are often used by alchemists, potion makers and mages when preparing concoctions that require extreme precision. The bearer gains advantage on any checks made to mix or measure exact portions of ingredients.

A Randomly Coloured crystal collar that has no obvious means of opening. When placed near a creature’s throat and the command word is thought, the object liquefies, flowing towards the victim's neck entirely then solidifying. The fit is tight, causing the creature some discomfort, though not enough to cause any harm or penalties. The bearer can never remove the collar, however any other intelligent creature can remove it by simply touching the crystal and thinking of the command word, causing it to liquefy and reform in the other creature's hand.

Flask of Scent: A clear crystal flask filled with a clear liquid that can absorb the strongest scents of its immediate surroundings and distills it into perfume. Once absorbed, the liquid will retain the scent indefinitely within the confines of the closed flask or until the bearer pours liquid onto another object which replaces that object’s smell with the absorbed scent. This effect is temporary and wears off after 3d4 hours. The flask must be filled with pure alcohol in order to be able to absorb a scent and can only absorb a single scent or environmental scent every 24 hour period. When found, the flask contains the following random scent: (Roll 1d6 to determine): 1. Fresh wildflowers 2. The smell of an exquisite perfume 3. The smell of deliciously cooked meat 4. The smell of a sexually active animal (Imperceptible by most races) that can act as a musk lure 5. The smell of hideously spoiled dairy 6. The smell of feces.

An elegantly curving silver clasp wraps its way around an orange-red gem, which has been polished to a near-perfect smoothness by the flow of time.

Matchmaker's Band: A gold Claddagh ring, crafted in the shape of two hands clasping a heart. If the wearer places it on their left hand ring finger they are aware of any creatures within ten feet who would make good romantic matches (Either with the bearer or with each other), as well as roughly how good together they would be.

A crystalline human heart wrapped in gold barbed wire.

A bundle of insulating yeti pelts tied together with seal sinew cords and wrapped in a protective oilskin case.

Malleable Symbol: An undistinguished lump of indeterminable material that radiates divine potential. By concentrating on it for one minute, a creature who worships a deity may transform the lump’s shape and material into a masterwork holy symbol of their God. The symbol reverts to its nondescript lump form after being away from its bearer for 24 hours.

A golden mask resembling a stern face, glowering at the world.

Sanguine Veil: A simple veil, made of blood coloured silk and decorated with small red gemstones. If the bearer bites a creature through the veil they deal damage and drink the blood of the target as normal but the bite leaves no mark of any sort. The victim will experience an orgasmic rush when the bearer bites into their flesh and repeated attacks over a period of time may lead to an addiction to being bit in this manner. Knowledgeable PC's will recall that objects such as these where extremely popular with vampires and certain demons such as succubi for a length of time before the only artificer capable of creating them died of blood loss.

A flask of a silver mithril alloy that uses a crystal prism as a stopper. It is covered with concentric circles engraved with astrological symbols, representing the influence of the stars.

A mithril piton set with a flawless crystal embedded into the spike just below the striking end. Several golden runes are inlaid down the shaft.

A gold comb, with a tail cast in the shape of a swan’s head and neck, its wing revealing the teeth of the comb.

A torc made of mithril and gold twisted together in an intricate pattern capped with balls of leaded glass.

A fist-sized gemstone that glows with an internal light, illuminating the cloud-like formations within. Knowledgeable PC's can identify the mineral as fire opal.

Wands of Dueling: A lacquered wooden box on the lid of which there is an image of two wizards holding wands pointing at each other. The inside of the box holds two wands and a note with simple instructions. One wand is black with three red gems on the bottom, the other white with three blue gems. While a pair of individuals hold these wands they engage in a competition by having one wielder request a duel and having the other accept. The wielders then engage in a battle of wills (Making opposing intelligence rolls) and the winner’s wand launches a bolt of arcane power at the losing duelist. This deals no damage but causes pain similar to a potent static shock. Afterwards the one of the gems of the winner’s wand lights up. The duel is a best of five competition and when a player wins, their wand creates a small victorious melody.

A pair of ruby-studded gold bangles, the interior engraved with tiny flowing script too small to read with the naked eye.

A fist-sized spool of fine silvery wire, thinner and stronger than anything you’ve encountered before. You get the feeling that it would be more likely to cut you than to break if you put your weight on it.

A square foot pane of amethyst quartz with a gold symbol representing chaos in the middle of it.

An elegant, polished driftwood sculpture depicting a griffon and small dragon mid-combat. The intricate detail and delicate features demonstrate a mastery of the craft, even to a layperson.

A finely sculpted marble bust of a middle-aged, balding bureaucrat. The moment that you make eye contact with the statue, it acknowledges your presence with a wink.

A brilliantly coloured bright silk tapestry animated to depict a quiet wooded hill overlooking a pond. It is incredibly relaxing to gaze upon.

A well carved, half walnut prosthetic foot complete with carved toes set with gold nails.

The skull of a sphinx set with a gold torc depicting a sphinx being pulled apart by wild elephants.

A burial linen containing a silver and gold funerary mask depicting a raven.

A pair of loaded dice made from platinum that jingle melodically.

A rose water sprinkler made from ornately woven gold and agate. It contains an unidentified substance that does not smell like rose water.

A beautiful silver pocket watch whose face is studded with a glorious profusion of detail: two extra dials, a moving star chart, the phases of the moon.

A weatherproof scrollcase containing a legal deed for the ownership of a tavern called the Knotty Pine in a nearby province.

A matching set of eight ivory figures. When left together and unattended, they will shift positions and poses. They will remain in their new pose until they are observed and then left unattended again. These poses are always scenes from a famous tragedy written long ago. Once complete, the figures simply repeat. If any figure is removed from the set, they all stop working.

An extravagant crystal decanter filled with a rich amber liquor

Coin of False Fates: A common looking silver coin that when flipped and called in the air, always lands on the opposite side called.

A rolled coil of fine, dire spider silk rope, 50 feet in length and woven so closely that it seems like a solid, flexible cable.

Fool's Ace: An unassuming card that to the untrained eye, is a faded ace of any suit. However, on further inspection, the "A" is actually a small rune which creates weak illusions. By tapping the Fool's Ace against another card, the rune changes that card into another ace- and any card touching the changed card is also changed, turning the entire hand into all aces. The illusion is broken by taking the cards affected by the magic and shuffling them. These cards are used for cheating in games, but there has been the occasion where a Fool's Ace has been implemented where the goal is to find the original card before the entire deck becomes identical and has to be re-shuffled.

A masterwork lute made of ceylon ebony wood, with a fingerboard of rosewood. The base is constructed of ancient mahogany, while the face is of the now-extinct cradlewood tree. The edges of the sound hole is a deep green made from powdered jade which has been epoxied into the depression. Within the jade is fine gold inlay in elvish script that reads “Sil vyrdaes sai tyli sil shys bethaendrol amon si vyrdaes sai tyli caethiel” (The power to move the world begins with the power to move hearts). Knowledge PC’s will recognize the instrument as the one played by Ilestria a bard of great renown.

A fire opal that seems to glow with an inner fire, scattering the light across its many intricate facets. Whoever cut this stone did so with an expertise that is nowadays rarely seen.

A clay statue, in the form of a man with a Phrygian cap, an elongated chin and nose and a sardonic expression. His eyes are cut glass which resemble gems and down his chest and stomach are three other cut glass imitation gems. Knowledgeable PC’s recognize the image as one of Phuukh, an ancient god of trickery and jest. Some hieroglyphs are scratched on his back and legs but apart from that, there is nothing of interest on the statue. Inside the clay, however, are three real gems, a piece of diamond, a topaz and a sapphire. They can only be obtained if the statue is broken and when it is, a peal of mocking laughter will ring out and slowly fade away.

A large iron box inside which can be found seven bolts of expensive silk dyed in rare colours. The box has three locks and sealing material set into the edge of the lid to prevent moisture and pests entering and ruining the contents. The box is not currently locked. On the side of the box are the remnants of a customs seal that shows the box was last used six years ago and gives partial identification of the shipper.

An ivory-inlaid snuff box. A knowledgeable PC can determine that the decorative crest of a boar smashing a ship belonged to the infamous privateer Sir Brutus Blackwater. To the right expert, such a piece of history could fetch quite a hefty sum.

A solid gold wine chalice encrusted with a diamond and ruby rim.

An intricate mechanical clock with the inner workings exposed. Every day at noon the gears shift into a new configuration but the clock continues without missing a beat.

An embroidered indigo silk robe with cloth-of-gold panels, blue gem-beaded sleeves and mink trim. The beads are lapis lazuli and there are 50 on each sleeve. It is suitable for a tall human woman and fit for nobility.

Victory of Elora: A large and intricate tapestry showing the life of a great human cleric named Elora. A piece of the tapestry has been ripped out, what it missing is unknown, although Elora is shown with child in the next panes, so it’s possible it to have been censored by an overzealous inquisitor. The tapestry is very valuable, the missing piece would make it nearly priceless.

A strange coin that seems to be an amalgamation of copper, silver, gold, and platinum, shaped into the image of an eight pointed star. The faces of the coin both depict a warped, tentacle creature of aberrant origin.

A heavy silver chalice. It is engraved with a myriad of blasphemous obscenities and polished to a fine finish. It is cool to the touch and the unholy object is a hateful mockery of the communion cup that holds consecrated wine in some religious ceremonies.

A set of noble's clothing spun with gold and silver thread adorned with malachite and red quartz stones.

A silver statuette of a saint that unscrews to reveal a hidden flask filled with holy water.

Last Words: A scrimshawed bone bracelet, enchanted by an unknown restless spirit that often whispers indescribable commands to its bearer. Should the bearer rest a hand upon a dead creature, the bracelet whispers the last words they spoke before their death.

An illustrated map of hell drawn on vellum fashioned from the skin of an angel.

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mrslittletall · 3 years

Note

Whump prompt: Leaning against someone

Tiso and God Tamer

Title: Not Just Another Corpse Fandom: Hollow Knight Characters: God Tamer, Tiso Word Count: 1.780 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30382413

Summary: God Tamer shouldn't check on the bug in the blue hood. He was just another corpse that they kicked out of the coliseum, but why was she feeling so strongly about him?

(Author's note: I adore this two as pairing, but I am not too sure if I wrote this very shippy. Feel free to read it as either friendship or pairing, but I think I see it more as friendship. Maybe a romance blooms between them, who knows?

Anway, please enjoy.)

She didn't even know why she headed down the cliff.

Day after day, different bugs would come into the coliseum. They would fight for geo, they would fight for glory, they would fight for fame, but almost all of them ended up as corpses on the cliffs, being kicked out to keep the arena nice and clean, to ensure that the mechanisms would work as intended.

Surely he also would be a corpse lying on the cliffs. She had seen how he had been collected, having been kicked out. If not her glaive had killed him, so would have the fall.

Still, she headed down, searching for the telltale blue sign of the hood he had been wearing. She just needed to know. It had been so long since someone had managed to challenge her. She, called the God Tamer, was the current master of the trial of fools and it could have very well been here that she had gotten kicked out to rot on the cliffs.

She still didn't really know why she was searching for him. What had his name been? Tiso or something? He surely had boasted in front of her, before the combined power of her glaive and her beast had put him into his place.

Still, there had been something else about him. A feeling that she couldn't really align somewhere. There had been something in his eyes, that just didn't leave her mind.

She surely would feel better if she saw his corpse and could forget about him once and for all.

As she was still heading down, searching, more bodies fell. Another fool had started the challenge, not hers obviously, hers would never start without her present. The impact of the bodies left and right, stirring up the ashes made it hard to see, so that she hinged down the visor of her helmet, suppressing a cough as the ash threatened to fill her lungs.

She moved a little further away from the centre, more to the left and as she was about to drop down to the next foothold, she saw it. The telltale blue hood.

She dropped down as fast as she could, hoping that she would find peace upon finally being able to see the corpse and then return to her duties in the coliseum. She just... she needed to be sure, that was all. She opened up the visor of her helmet a tiny bit to get a better look at him, when she saw and heard it. A tiny stir and a low groan.

Her first instinct was a slight shock, then she felt utterly relieved. She hadn't killed him. Why was she even so happy about it? She should be ashamed, she must have lost her edge when she hadn't finished the job.

Still, that he was still alive calmed her somehow, but he wouldn't stay alive much longer when nobody took care of his wounds.

She kneeled down and spoke: “Hey. Can you hear me?”

There was only another groan as response.

“You don't look like you are able to walk.”, she said and then moved to help him up, carefully avoiding the stained part on his front, where his shell had cracked and milky white blood was seeping out. “Come, lean on me.”, she commanded, feeling the weight of him as she hefted him up. There wasn't a bench nearby and the coliseum was too far up, she would need to get him into one of the alcoves, where the primal aspids wouldn't lurk. The one where the tail of that giant, Bardook resided, felt like the best bet.

As she started walking, Tiso's shaky feet stumbling along with her steady steps, he managed to find his words.

“Why?”, was the only word he spoke.

“I don't know.”, God Tamer replied, truthfully. She knew that he asked her why she saved him, after she had nearly killed him. Not why he had lost to her or why he had been tossed out to the cliffs. He had known about the risk. “We can talk later, after your wounds are patched up.”, she continued and led Tiso to the alcove, grateful that someone or something had dispatched of the primal aspids recently. They would be back soon, but for now, her path was without hindrance.

Once they had arrived at the intended location, God Tamer laid Tiso down, letting him lean against a wall, getting a first aid kit out of her armour. As the champion of the coliseum, she always had to be prepared. She made quick work, cleaning the crack on his shell, which made him hiss in pain, and then bandaging the whole deal with some silk that the gladiators coming from Deepnest provided.

Then, she just stayed kneeling in front of him, not knowing what to say or to do. Technically she should just leave. There was nothing for her to do anymore. Tiso would be able to challenge the coliseum again once he healed up, if he dared. She was halfway on her feet when he repeated his earlier question.

“Why?”

“I... I don't...”, God Tamer sighed, a deep sigh. She knew the reason. She knew it very well. “You impressed me.”, she admitted. “It has been so long since someone managed to get far enough to fight me. I... when you fell, I felt... disappointed at first... and then.. guilty.”

For some reason, God Tamer had felt guilty about not having fought him head on, even though it wasn't a noble duel between them, but a dirty fight in a lawless zone. She had the feeling he would have deserved that duel though.

“I came to make sure that you had died.”, she admitted further. “Only to see that you haven't. I couldn't.... let you lie there like this...”

“I see.”, Tiso said, no humour in his voice, “Don't expect any thanks, you brought me into this state to begin with.”

“I... I am aware, yes.”, God Tamer hated how much her voice wavered. She wasn't used to such conversations anymore. Most of the population was infected and the gladiators didn't talk much. She mostly had her beast to talk too and while she still could control it, the infection long had clouded its mind as well and so it would never answer to her.

An awkward silence spread between them, only broken by Tiso's raspy breaths.

“May I ask you something?”, God Tamer suddenly said, wanting to break the silence between them.

“You probably will even if I say no.”, Tiso just said. God Tamer didn't waste time to be offended, he was right.

“Why did you fight in the coliseum?”

“What kind of question is that?”, Tiso replied, coughing a little, averting his eyes to not look into her face. “It should be obvious.”

“Fame, glory, most of the fools come for it.”, God Tamer said. “You must have seen them on your way here. The corpses we kicked out. The ones who didn't make it.”

“Yes, because it is so hard to overlook corpses falling from the sky.”, Tiso retorted, rolling his eyes, “Or the ceiling. This place doesn't even have a sky.”

He apparently was better already when he was in the mood to react with such dripping sarcasm. “Anyway...”, God Tamer crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You can tell me hundred times you came for fame and glory, I know it wasn't your only reason. I could see it in your eyes.”

It was Tiso's turn to sigh now. “So you figured, huh?”, he said and then raised an arm, the arm in which he was still clutching his weapon, a shield. It was rare for any bug to use a shield as a weapon, most of them preferred nails and the ones without would use their claws or toxins. She had seen him use it like a boomerang. Though, what did the shield had to do with his reasoning?

“It's about your weapon?”, she asked.

Tiso let out another sigh, this time sounding more frustrated than before. “Not the weapon itself, but what it is made off.”

God Tamer narrowed her eyes and then took a closer look at the shield. It looked nothing out of the ordinary at first, but when she noticed, a gasp escaped her. That weapon clearly had been made out of the shell of another bug.

“So, you figured.”, Tiso said dryly.

“Who were they?”, God Tamer asked in return, there clearly was a story behind the shield.

“My friend...”, Tiso said after a long pause, so long that God Tamer already thought that he would never talk. “We were both in the search of a challenge, to fight at a place that was tough enough for us, so that we could challenge each other in the end. He... he died while protecting me before we even reached Hallownest. I had promised to him that I would be victorious in the coliseum.”

God Tamer didn't had any words to say after Tiso was finished with his story. What should she say? Words of comfort? They would feel empty and hollow, especially after she had been the one to crush his imminent victory. Instead of saying anything, she leaned herself against the wall as well and then slowly slid down until she sat next to him.

Minutes must have passed before she found her words again.

“I am sorry.”

“For what?”, Tiso asked.

“For treating you just like another corpse.”

“Hey...”, Tiso started, “You have come looking for this corpse, right?”

That made God Tamer smile. “I guess.”, she said.

They fell silent again, but this time the silence wasn't awkward, but kind of comfortable. Eventually, God Tamer got up.

“I should head back to the coliseum.”, she said. “You are safe here for the time being. You shouldn't move too much until the wound had closed. And once it has, I am awaiting you in the coliseum.”

“No thanks.”, Tiso replied. “I think I am done with the coliseum for now.”

They both just stared at each other and then chuckled, Tiso's being broken up by coughs.

“I fear I am not done with you though.”, God Tamer said. “I will come back to check on you and I better not see you move elsewhere.” She turned around and without looking back, she said: “See you later.”, before heading back to the coliseum.

She still didn't know why she had checked on him, but she didn't regret that she did.

#hollow knight #fanfiction #god tamer #tiso #whump prompt #march of the whumps 3 #littlewritesstuff #acebladespades

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aryll · 5 years

Photo

my brain: fire emblem me: why my brain: just do it me: ok

lots of extra info on these 7 under the cut!

SAIHARA

Initially Villager class, secretly has both the Underdog (hit rate and avoid +15 when facing a higher levelled enemy unit) and Aptitude skills (adds 20% to all growth rates)

Only vaguely remembers his past, suffers from some mysterious plot amnesia beyond that

Shadowgift skill allows him to use tomes normally exclusive to the dark magic-wielding classes only

Other skills includes Poison Strike (when user triggers the battle, the enemy’s HP is automatically reduced by 20% after the battle)

Tactician = very tired and stressed, all the time.

AKAMATSU

Dual Dancer/Songstress class; ie, she both dances and sings in battle to rally allies

Rally Heart skill is unique to Akamatsu only (a move that grants all stats +2 and movement +1 to all allies within a 3 tile radius for one turn)

Has a surprisingly good Strength stat, which makes her a great pairing unit

Acts as motivational support to her entire army both in and out of battle!! She keeps this family TOGETHER god damnit!!!!!

Other skills includes Miracle (chance to survive an otherwise fatal attack with 1HP remaining)

OUMA

Combination of Locktouch (can open any treasure chest or locked door without a key) + Pass (can move through tiles occupied by an enemy unit) skills = able to clear any map of treasure and escape in less than 3 turns

Speed demon unit, almost always acts first thanks to Speedtaker skill (steals +1 Speed from each downed enemy)

Specialty: rare/unique staves that debuff/decrease stats, immobilize enemy units, warp allies away from danger, etc

Contrary to popular belief, he won’t kill enemies unless absolutely necessary (he doesn’t even carry a real sword). He steals Saihara’s levin sword when in a serious pinch since his Strength stat is laughably bad (or he just warps Gonta to the closest unoccupied space lol)

YUMENO

Her magic stat is crazy high, but the Troubadour class is unable to use tomes, which relegates her to staves only

Wants to be Mage class VERY badly as a result

Rides a white tiger to battle instead of a horse (?!)

Special skills: Witch’s Brew (Obtains a potion item after moving for the first 7 turns), and Tomebreaker (Hit rate & avoid +50 when enemy is using a tome)

AMAMI

The elusive male Pegasus Knight (both he and his pegasus are very popular with the lads and ladies)

Travels long distances on his pegasus, sometimes disappearing for weeks only to return with a bunch of random rare items & weapons from his travels

Galeforce skill is a carryover from when he used to be a Dark Flier (if enemy is defeated, user gets another full turn)

Other special skills includes Clarity (user recovers from status reductions twice as fast as other units)

IRUMA

Probably is a noble? But rejected the standard aristocratic lifestyle in favour of a more adventurous career path

Demoiselle skill, of course (avoid & critical avoid +10 to all male allies within a 3 tile radius)

She has a unique battle steed (she’s a Wyvern Rider… Kiibo is a Manakete… you do the math)

Salvage Blow skill allows her to collect weapons from enemy units and tinker with them to improve their efficacy in battle

Other special skills: Life and Death (Damage given +10 and damage received +10), as well as Gamble (Hit rate -10, critical rate +10)

KIIBO

Is not human, but has never met another one of his kind before (he’s quite young for his species). He hopes to befriend a fellow Manakete someday

He claims to be proud of his dragon ancestry, but he’s also very fascinated with humans. He likes to travel and visit new places to learn about how humans live, and especially what they eat — though he much prefers looking at human food over eating it. It tastes weird to him

Dragonskin is his only skill, but it’s very powerful: it halves all damage, negates poison damage and some special skills, while also reducing the effects of others. Even though he doesn’t have any other special skills, this one makes him indispensable in battles.

I’m not too sure if I’ll be drawing the remaining characters, but here’s the plan for the rest of the cast! (Not including special skills at this time)

Momota — Hero

Harukawa — Assassin

Gonta — Wolfskin

Shirogane — Sorcerer (appears as Lord class)

Chabashira — Swordmaster

Toujou — Maid (sorry kirumi)

Angie — Diviner

Shinguji — Apothecary

Houshi — Sniper

And lastly, thank you for enjoying my character designs... they range from sincere to deliberately awful or silly, hopefully the difference will be obvious lmffjslkdg

#shuichi saihara #kokichi ouma #kaede akamatsu #rantaro amami #himiko yumeno #miu iruma #kiibo #danganronpa v3 #drv3 #danganronpa #this series has too many names im sorry #martbles

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knightthunderis · 4 years

Text

Once Upon A Time

Have you ever had one of those days when your past and present lives end up colliding and intertwining somewhere along the way? I know it may sound crazy but hear me out. I guess to fully understand how crazy things can get when your true love and soulmate are involved is to start at the beginning. We all have three personalities, our royal form which in his case is Karyson Gabriel Wolfe of Thaddea, his human and present form Tristan Michael Llewellyn, and his hero form Knight Wolf. But somehow his royal side got separated from the other two parts of his personality and landed back in Thaddea with no memories of our past together. This is the story of how through a crazy case of mistaken identity, lies, deceit, rivals, hidden agendas, conspiracy, invasion of privacy, blackmail, and manipulation my true love and I as Reimeiko Thunderis made it back to each other and full circle. I am known as Reimeiko Christyne Amaryllis Thunderis Wolfe by royal standards, Queen of Thunderia and Thaddea thanks to my getting married to Karyson before the last battle with Darcien’s forces. My father, his Knights and fellow royals had to use their combined powers to send us here to be reborn and find each other again. The problem was none of us had any memory of our pasts until our respective guardians found us and reunited us. But that is another story for another time. Anyway, when we were all reborn here, I was born Jamison Logan McKagan the eldest daughter of Robert and Veronica McKagan also known as Thor and Kyiandra Thunderis of Thunderia. But you already know that, if you know my story. Anyway, I am getting outrageously off track. But when this all started, I had no doubt how it would end because of Karyson and our past together. But boy was I wrong. I had never felt so betrayed in my life. How I came into this as Reimeiko Thunderis instead of who I am in the human form? Well I will tell you. It all starts here at the Coronation Ball. On this night, not only will Garyson be taking his place as king, but he will also be choosing his future bride. At the doors of the grand ballroom stood Jamison Logan McKagan Llewellyn also known as Reimeiko Christyne Amaryllis Thunderis Wolfe of Thunderia and Thaddea. The Lady Knight of Thunder was getting ready to make a grand entrance. Tonight was the night for her. As she entered the ballroom, the herald announced her.

"Lady Reimeiko Christyne Thunderis." the herald announced. She walked further into the ballroom spotting her friends and Knights from back home as well as some of the friends she had made along the way or so she thought. Her brother and sister in their Knight forms showed up close to her speaking telepathically.

(I know that the connection between Karyson and Reimeiko is solid.) Knight Shadow said. (But you might want to take the connection between Jamison McKagan and Tristan Llewellyn into consideration.)

(Tristan is Karyson’s human form though, remember brother?) Knight Nova replied. (They were separated into their own individual personas somehow and we must figure out how to reunite them, but now is not the time. The Knights are all stationed throughout the palace grounds, fully powered but dressed for this ball.)

(Do you not think that you are overdoing it just a bit?) She asked. (How are all the background checks into the key players going? One cannot know how to play the game without a scorecard and details on everyone involved especially who gains and loses the most. There are a lot of secrets here and I want to know all of it. Not just the key players but the background players too. Leave no stone unturned, leave no passage unexplored. We had orders to do that before we left.)

(Our wisdom knights are taking care of that and have been since before Dad debriefed us.) Shadow replied. (Anyway, we will keep in close contact with you as the night progresses)

Shadow and Nova made their way into the crowd to check in with the other Knights as Jamison glided over to talk to two other suitors in the competition. For some reason, she suddenly felt uneasy, why, she did not know. Granted, she had seen and dealt with her share of evil tyrants, love rivals, band rivals, and threatened hostile takeovers, but she and her Knights had always made it through almost unscathed.

“Reimeiko, you look so beautiful.” Elenia Zhang gushed. “The prince will not be able to take his eyes off of you all night in that gown.” Jamison drifted back and forth between the first debriefing and present day.

“First off we have Elenia Zhang.” Marco said. “There is not much known about her and her family except that they are Thaddean nobles who live outside the typical line. In addition to being a Thaddean noble, Elenia is multi-talented which will be one of her strengths and make her a good ally as well. Knowing you Jamie, you would have her and everyone else won over in no time.”

“Hah, he might like the way she looks,” Lamani Evander sneered. “But when it comes to choosing his future queen, he knows who will be able to rule by his side and that woman will be me and me alone.” Back to the debriefing.

Lamani Evander, she was so evil that she made Dariana Lanoson look and act like an angel, but even though she could scare or intimidate others, she did not scare or intimidate Jamison or Reimeiko. Long before, Jamison had faced off with the Federation of Evil’s many different factors, love rivals, rival bands, threatened hostile take-overs and she knew how to fight dirty if she had to. In her royal form of Reimeiko Thunderis, she fought like a man although she was a woman. Along with her siblings and fellow Knights, she trained from the time she was young to be able to take down and fight the forces of evil who continued relentlessly to take them down and take over the universe. Reimeiko and Jamison were rejoined or reunited when Jamison was fifteen and was discovered being Princess Reimeiko Thunderis while in her hero form of Knight Thunder and her boyfriend Tristan Llewellyn in his hero form of Knight Wolf was discovered as being Prince Karyson Wolfe of Thaddea which was who Jamison and the others were vying for. She knew something about Karyson, his true siblings Corydon and Racine, and Samuel and Francine that the other people present did not know. Samuel, Francine, and the Thaddean Trio were immortal like Reimeiko, her siblings, and Knights; and no matter what the other ladies of court thought, Karyson was Reimeiko’s eternal soulmate.

“Well I can say this without any conviction.” Jamison said. “It will be his choice who rules by his side not yours, and may the best woman win.” To herself she said. “I know it will be me because I have been to the future, I am the Queen in it and none of you are there.”

“I am sure that I will win because I have known him all his life.” Lamani replied.

Jamison rolled her eyes and shook her head as Lamani walked away. The only other woman in the running so-to-speak was a woman by the name of Almeda Fitzgerald who was being sponsored by the present queen Alyssa Candelaria. No one had really seen her through the competition because she had been staying close to the queen. Just then a trumpet sounded, and a herald announced the arrival of Karyson Tristan Michael Llewellyn Wolfe Prince of Thaddea and he was heading right in the direction of Jamison and Elenia. He took her hand and bowed. “Princess Reimeiko, may I have the pleasure of the next dance with you?” Prince Karyson asked.

“You want to dance with me?” Jamison asked. “I am ready to do much more than just dance with you, but I would love to.”

“I was hoping you would say that.” Karyson replied. He took her hand and whisked her away to the dance floor of the grand ballroom. As the orchestra plays, he leads her into a waltz around the room her gown swirling as they glide through the steps.

“To think a few months ago as Jamison McKagan,” Jamison acknowledged. “I did not even know the first steps to the waltz.”

“And now no one would ever know that your human form was not born into this life.” Karyson replied. “I hope you never have cause to regret coming here.”

“What do you mean? Why would you say that?” Jamison asked. “You and Tristan will be reunited before this crazy adventure is over, then so will we be.”

“So much has happened.” he said pausing as the song winds, his hands lingering on her waist and his eyes searched hers which were filled with uncertainty, fear, and confusion. “I need to speak with you.”

“Is something wrong?” Jamison asked, fearful of what the answer would be. Despite the soulmate connection between them, she knew that something was not right.

“There is nothing really wrong per se.” he replied. “It has been nearly impossible to even get a moment alone with you these last few days, but I need to know--”

“Prince Garyson, may I be so bold as to cut in?” Duchess Lamani Evander asked.

“Oh yes of course.” Karyson replied. “Do not worry, Reimeiko, we will talk later.”

[Yeah right] Jamison thought sourly. As Lamani and Karyson glided away, Jamison found herself wandering off the dance floor and running into a familiar face in the crowd. “Derrick? I did not know that you would be here tonight. You look so handsome in your formal uniform instead of your usual mix of clothes.”

“Karyson insisted.” Derrick replied. “I guess I should congratulate you. You look exactly like one of them. I guess you are one of them now in these days.”

“Please do not lump me in with those two-faced, hypocritical, narcissistic fleet of bozos and bimbos.” Jamison pleaded. “Real people like you are more fun to be around. You and I are cut from the same cloth. We do not fit into their world of snobby losers and I thank God that we do not.”

“This time tomorrow, you might be queen and then our lives are going to go in very different directions.” he said.

“If I am chosen to be his bride, but I have a sick feeling that I will not be,” Jamison said. “I will still be me. Titles do not make me who I am or who I will be. Nothing will take me over.”

“Looking at you right now, it is hard to believe that.” Derrick said with a sad look. “This place has a tendency of changing people, and some of us like the woman you used to be. You know, that right?”

“I promise, I am the same person I was from the beginning, even under this fancy, hard to breathe in a ball gown.” Jamison replied. “Despite everything that has happened, I have not changed. I am the same Reimeiko Christyne Amaryllis Thunderis, Jamison Logan McKagan Llewellyn. If there is ever a time you feel that I get too cocky, just remind me of the first time we met, I was taking out the garbage to the big dumpster outside and waiting tables at Russo’s bar and grill.”

“It does feel like it was so long ago.” Derrick acknowledged. “I cannot believe that it has only been a few months since this all began, and it feels more like once upon a time now more than ever after everything.”

#kingliam2019 #texaskitten30 laimtruelovealways #cordonianroyalty #trr knightthunderchronicles

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astroellipse · 3 years

Text

writing *ranting about ffxiv while I wait for a queue to pop

I was so sad man... I’m just trying to do the Hildebrand questline- it popped in the middle of writing that oh my god.

What I was going to say is that I thought this queue for the quest line’s third trial was going to be 15 minutes like the last two but saw it was instead “more than 30 minutes”, and given the last time I queued for a trial that said that it took two hours, I was a little concerned. To my surprise it popped initially just seven minutes in... until someone backed out. Then I started writing this. Then it popped, I waited half a minute, and someone withdrew again. And a third time immediately after. On the fourth time I actually got in. That was ridiculous. I’ll still continue writing though, since finishing the first Hildibrand saga is a good breaking point.

That was, to be expected, hilarious. A lot of it, anyhow. Some of it just sort of hurt. The funniest moment wasn’t even during the questline, it was during the first trial with Gilgamesh. Both me and the bard were inflicted with confusion and just started blasting each other. Him knocking arrows and all but stabbing them into my forehead, and me casting ruin directly into his eyes at point blank range. That and the getting turned into a frog and getting chased by chickens. Literally nothing can top that encounter for me.

I straight up did not care about the mystery/plot the majority of the time, but I guess I should expect by now that I’ll always enjoy the characters more than whatever mediocre plot they’re tangled in. Just. The Coliseum quests specifically mostly pissed me off. The pervy tentacle monster. The needless racism. The whole thing with painting a poor person wanting to find an easy way to not be poor as undeniably evil which the game KEEPS doing makes me so fucking mad, in combination with stewing about these other themes in JRPGs especially with being all “boo-hoo, won’t anyone thing about how hard it is being rich and noble, all the responsibility, how dare these dirty poors even think about getting revenge on the very people that keep them down.

Why aren’t they just happy with what they do have? They should just put in more work if they want to eat a warm meal, even though we’ve already established there’s no work to be had. Like jesus christ I’d swear some of the shit in this game and others was being written by some 17 year old medieval lordling with too much free time between tutoring sessions. What is these peoples’ obsessions with nobility? Like I get it makes for good fantasy content but have at least a little bit of self consciousness.

I feel like I always see these games acknowledge some kind of class structure and how it negatively effects those in its lowest rungs then shrug it off as “there’s nothing anyone can do about it” and paint the impoverished as villains for being upset with the people that do have the power to change it. Sort of a tangent but this specifically is why I despised and kind of relationship between Dorothea and Ferdinand in Three Houses. She calls him out and rightfully so in the first support, then he makes a batch of pastries completely from scratch one time and this apparently makes her think that all nobles aren’t so bad? Going from straight up not wanting nobles to exist to thinking hey, they’re people too :). I hate that. I hated that FE3H characters were mostly nobles or come from notable/rich families or whatever.

Similarly I hate that FFXIV has such a huge focus on the upper crust and just completely discards and lower-class person. Like, there was a mission where I had to check on some scared refugees and they attacked me in self defense and it made me kill them? And I reported back to the guy who asked me to check on them and he just went “Ah well, what can you do.” Like what the fuck is wrong with these writers sometimes???

I was about to say this was more of an issue with ARR but remembered how the people of the Brume were treated in HW, like a mob of bumbling idiots in desperate need of guidance. What drove me insane the most on that front was when the people were on the brink of revolt after that one girl basically martyred herself, and to remedy this Aymeric decided his order and the grand companies would have their little sparring mach, because nothing sparks patriotism more like sports. Even though this left the city with significantly less protection. And that it was held in an area where not a single citizen could see it. Also, the group the people were supposed to be rooting for was the order of knights and their lapdogs (Hilda’s group) which. just. none of it made sense. It was stupid. This kinda shit makes me afraid to eventually get to Stormblood and into the thick of the Ala Mhigo stuff which they have handled TERRIBLY so far like it boils my blood to think about it. This game is so racist it’s unreal.

but. god. I was talking about the Hildibrand questline. The bit on Costa del Sol was probably the closest I came to caring about the plot, plus it had some pretty good bits. Wasn’t a fan of the big “man in a dress” at the end, though it did make me think that men should be allowed to wear dresses in this game like it would’ve looked fine without the goofy hair and makeup :/ And I completely checked out on whatever that last bit of story was no I do not care that that one girl we’ve been traveling with was the thief all along I have never liked her. Also she played into that class issue I just ranted about. The reveal of her sister was also cheap and stupid. The elezen inspector professing his love for her was also weird? My first thought during that was “jesus christ man she was trying to commit mass mur-” and then I remembered that I/my WoL was crushing on Ysale before she got axed which comes in at #2 for funniest moment in this questline. Him doing that still came out of nowhere save one or two short scenes in separate quests to me.

But I’m exhausted of this now. I might go and start the next saga but I’ll probably go to sleep early... if anything has made me rethink playing past the free trial it’s the shit above but I’ll be honest I am pretty darn likely to cave. I can only hope the writers sorted at least some of their shit out between expansions.

#collecting my thoughts #mmorpg hell

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nuttyrabbit · 5 years

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Forge the Coelacanth Bio

So a couple of days ago,an anon sent me an ask telling me to talk about my OC Forge. Seeing as how I’ve never formally introduced him on here, I thought I’d instead just post a ref an a brief description of him. Instead, that turned into writing him a full on fucking bio.

So once again, before diving into the bio proper, I should give a major shout out to @pidgeonspen for not only designing Forge, but also helping to beta read and edit his bio.

With that out of the way, let’s get into the bio proper. Like always, everything is under the cut

Name: Forge the Coelacanth

Age: 1000+

Height: 6'0

Occupation: (Former) Commander of the Atlantean Knights

Personality: Contrary to what his imposing size, booming voice, and various scars may imply, Forge is an incredibly affable and endearing individual. His commitment to those he is sworn to protect goes beyond the purview of his duties, going so far as to try to befriend or at least get to know most of the people within Atlantis, especially those he fights alongside. Because of his extended lifespan, Forge has formed friendships that transcended generations, from the first of a line to the last. As a result, many considered him just as much a part of their family as those related by blood.

Forge is also an incredibly jovial person, often indulging in revelry with others following a successful mission or other joyous occasion. In these instances, his love for telling stories, singing classic Atlantean songs, and of course, his boisterous laughter all make themselves readily apparent. His jovial nature also shows itself around children. Forge absolutely adores children, having raised many himself over his long, long life and even having adopted some who had become orphaned. But above all else, Forge has an unwaveringly strong devotion to both Atlantis and what he believes to be “justice”, even two centuries after its fall. As a result, he has no tolerance for anything he either perceives or is told is “evil” or a threat to Atlantis and resorting to any means he deems necessary to get rid of it. On that note, Forge's morality is rather black and white, firmly believing in notions of objective "good" and "evil", leaving little to no room for any sort of nuance or moral "gray" area.

All of these traits have in some way or another contributed to him becoming a sort of "living legend" amongst his people, treated with immense respect and in some cases, even reverence.

While Forge appreciated and even sometimes used his status as a living legend to inspire his people both on and off the battlefield, he disliked the idea of being out and out worshipped and even discouraged the few that partook in it from doing so. At one point, Forge was rather religious. He often prayed to Atlantis' patron "god" of Levias for a variety of reasons, ranging from victory in battle to the continued propserity and safety of Atlantis. But as Atlantis fell to nothing, so too did his faith, feeling that he was no longer worthy of his god’s protection for one reason or another

Skills: One of the things that gave Forge his status as a living legend amongst his people was his nearly unmatched skill in combat. In particular, he is extremely skilled and adept in the realm of lightning magic, channeling it through both his armor and his sword to devastating effect. His most frequent application of this magic is simply shooting lightning from his sword, but he can also cover his entire body in lightning as a makeshift barrier, create massive shockwaves by slamming his charged sword into the ground, use it to supercharge his limbs, giving him a significant boost in strength, and even call down bolts of lightning. Even without his magic, he is still devastatingly adept with his sword. The sword itself is a massive greatsword, forged by Forge himself from pure Atlantean steel and named "Tempest". The sword is also magical in nature, being attuned to Forge specifically.Despite having centuries of formal training,his style actually forgoes finesse and formal technique in favor of a surprisingly loose style, revolving around using a combination of swinging Tempest around, using his lightning magic, and his own raw power to simply overwhelm foes. As stated before, Forge is able to use his status as a living legend to inspire his allies, especially on the battlefield.

Hobbies: Forge is someone who has rarely, if ever had the time to truly pursue any hobbies between his duties as an Atlantean Knight, his duties as a father and husband to the families he has helped to raise over his extensive lifespan, and other miscellanous matters. On the rare occasion he had a usable amount of free time, he usually either spent it honing his abilities through training. However, that changed once he decided to not start another new family after the 2nd one he had formed ultimately ran its course. With all this newfound free time, Forge had to find something to do, and indeed he did. He rediscovered a field he had very briefly considered pursuing a long, long time ago: blacksmithing, using it not only to craft novelty items, but also repair and improve both his equipment and that of his fighting companions.

Likes: Atlantis (Obviously), children, Octopus/squid (His favorite food. Don't worry, they're just normal animals, not mobians), storytelling, mead, combat/battle, blacksmithing, singing.

Dislikes: What he perceives as "evil" and general injustice, being the object of worship/reverence, bureaucracy (Politics just goes over his head), his near-immortality, bitter foods.

Backstory: Forge was born into the world as Atlantis, which was but a a small, simple city at the time started its expansion into the empire it would come to be mythologized as. As such, Forge grew up hearing about the glorious conquests of the Atlantean armies, the brilliant innovations of Atlantean scientists, and how the people of Atlantis were the noblest, smartest, and strongest people of the Seven Seas. But above all else, Forge heard and witnessed countless tales regarding the Knights of Atlantis (Or more simply known as the Atlantean Knights); an elite group of soldiers and guardians who were said to represent the very best of Atlantis, men of unmatched valor and heroism whose explots inspired some of Atlantis' finest artistry. The young coelacanth could not help but be enraptured by these tales, by these men who seemed to be larger than life, who represented everything noble and good about Atlantis, who were equal parts loved and revered.

As he grew up, Forge's fascination with the Atlantean Knights continued to grow larger and larger, as did his nationalistic attitude about Atlantis and all it stood for. On the cusp of adulthood, Forge knew that he wanted to serve his country someway, somehow, but he wasn't sure as to how until it hit him. Instead of merely fawning over the Atlantean Knights like everyone else did, he could *become* one, be the shining knight that all others aspired to be. Even though he knew it would require a nearly Herculean amount of time, effort, and perhaps even blood to do so, if it served Atlantis well, it would all be worth it.

And so, Forge enlisted in the Atlantean army. It was there he would earn his trademark armor, his legendary blade and mastery of magic. With these in hand, Forge would come to aid Atlantis in many of her conquests, quickly climbing the ranks and gaining the attention of his superiors due to a combination of his combat aptitude, valor in battle, and unmatched dedication to Atlantis' cause. Before he knew it, several decades had passed and before he knew it, Forge would finally take his place amongst the Atlantean Knights, fulfilling his near-lifelong ambition, and even starting a family along the way. But something else had shown itself. Despite his many battle scars and literal decades given to Atlantis' conquests, Forge himself looked as if he had barely aged at all.

Forge continued to serve Atlantis, taking part in her many conquests, leading her crusades - all the while continuing to raise his family. Decades came and went, his love eventually passing on to the next world, their children growing older and older... and for Forge, time had seemed to stop. He outlived them all, never seeming to age further. No matter what he did, whether it be forming yet another family, leading endless crusades against Atlantis' enemies, or throwing himself fully into his duties and working tirelessly to uphold his personal sense of justice and righteousness, he could not escape one simple fact: he would come to outlive everyone he would ever know and loved. He would be forced to watch everyone he cared about wither and die, and no matter how much he tried not to, he would come to feel immense pain at every loss he suffered. Forge tried to keep himself busy; starting yet another family, leading crusade after crusade against the enemies of Atlantis, burying himself into his work- but little of it helped to distract him from the truth: he would come to outlive them all. As time went on, he would bury everyone he came to know and care for, and it never did get easier. When the last of his children from his second marriage passed on, Forge solemnly decided that bloodline would be his last, instead focusing on his duties as Grand Commander of the Atlantean Knights. He defended his homeland against all her enemies, both real and imagined, his loyalty to those in power absolute and unwavering.

Forge was so convinced that this was what he was meant to be - a paladin of his people, carrying out Atlantis' will and standing as a testament to her greatness. He would gladly give his life and soul to protect his home from the perceived evils that dared threaten her... but he as unable to see that the greatest enemy to Atlantis came from within. The rulers of the great city, the aristocrats and the councilmen, nobles and advisors -- all of them polluting the seemingly unfaltering city with their greed and corruption. Forge was so eager to please, to abide by his superiors and do whatever it took to keep his city safe, that he didn't see any of it for what it was. He never questioned the crusades he was told to lead, the atrocities committed during those wars, the supposed heresy he was called to put an end to - he did it all for his homeland, for his people. He had to, in his mind, lest Atlantis fall for a moments hesitation.

But no matter how hard Forge fought to smite the "evils" plaguing Atlantis, he ultimately could not stave off the inevitable. Centuries of greed, corruption, and in-fighting came to a head and the once seemingly invincible empire of Atlantis tore itself asunder from the inside out. Soon, despite Forge's best efforts, the once great empire of Atlantis that had stood triumphantly and unfaltering for centuries, her capital city a shining beacon of greatness and prosperity, was reduced to naught but ash. Her once vast empire, which stretched for endless miles, was shattered, with her territories either abandoned or fought over by the very people they had once conquered. And her people, once innumerable, were reduced to none but a select few surviors, amongst which was Forge. Soon enough, they too would perish, leaving Forge as the sole survivor of his people, the last relic of a once glorious civilization.

Forge's worst fears had come to pass. Not only did he outlive all those he cared about, but he even outlived the very thing he had loved so dearly, the empire he had spent centuries helping to build and defend. The streets he had spent his life patrolling, the houses he had raised his families in, the taverns in which he celebrated his greatest victories, the graveyards where he mourned his worst losses, they were all gone, which nothing but ash and rubble in their place. There was nothing left for him there, but he couldn't just abandon all he had fought for for so long, could he? No, he decided, he could not. He had sworn an oath so very long ago that he would defend Atlantis to his last dying breath from all that may harm her, and even though there was nobody left to defend, nothing left to protect, he could never break that oath.

And there he stayed, guarding the ashes of what little remained; an unmoving, unwavering sentinel with nothing left to protect. As he partook in his seemingly fruitless patrols, his mind couldn't help but wander, and it always end up at the same place asking the same question: Why? Why did Atlantis fall? What had destroyed it? And the answers to those questions would always pin the blame on one person and one person only: himself. Forge had failed Atlantis somehow. Maybe he hadn't fought hard enough. Maybe he wasn't vigilant enough and let an "evil" in that had destroyed her people. Maybe he wasn't able to unite the people in a time of crisis and be the leader that they had needed. No matter what it was, the blame would always shift inwards. But he wouldn't fail them now, he couldn't. He may not have been able to save his people, but he can at least try to save what's left. If there was anything to be gained from this curse of his, it was that he could stand vigilant forever, and that the legacy and spirit of his people would never truly be lost.

For over a century, the coelacanth continued to stand vigil at the tomb of an empire, bound there by his unwavering sense of justice and his oath. Things would change over time, for a threat unlike any other would come to this hallowed ground: creatures of pure darkness and reek of fetid evil began to manifest, drawn to the very ruins Forge swore to protect with his life. And protect the remains of Atlantis he did - but no matter how many of the foul creatures he smote, more would spawn as night fell. The horde was unending, and Forge eventually realized to put an end to this evil, he would have to destroy it at its source, whatever and wherever it may be... and that meant he'd have to leave Atlantis to find it. Even if it meant temporarily leaving the ruins at the mercy of these monsters, he knew he could not idly stand by while such vile creatures existed, seemingly intent on destruction. It was time to take action and to put a stop to these monsters for good.

And so, in his search for answers, he emerged from the depths to a land none of his kind had dared to venture: the surface world. A world so vastly different from everything he's ever known, where the black & white ethicality he'd so strictly followed would be challenged, a land where he would be confronted with an evil far beyond anything he had ever encountered... and where he would ultimately come to face the truth about what really caused the fall of Atlantis.

#Sonic OC #Forge the Coelacanth #Sonic FC #Sonic #Sonic the Hedgehog #Sonic Fan Character #Archie Sonic #OC Stuff #I've been sitting on this character for the better part of a year now #It was about time really #OC Bios and Refs #OC Bios and References

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ldelreyna · 5 years

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CHAPTER I

After the battle many things have changed in what is now called the Six Kingdoms. A new king, a new jurisdiction, nobles lost titles and new ones came in their place. And, after so many catastrophes, all the concerns of a ruler revolve around one word: taxes.

But it’s incredible how in the North nothing has changed much, although it has been one of the most affected parts of the conflicts. Each farmer was able to maintain - somehow - the life they had before, and the winter having subsided was a big factor too. The grain plantations were more fruitful and there were even donations coming from Essos and surrounding lands as a gift of good politics and friendship in favor of the new Queen.

The North remembers, the North knows, that they only thrive when on their throne sits a Stark. And Sansa was the last and the most perfect ruler they could ask for.

She understands the North, understands the people, has the vision to make the decisions, and the coldness at the right time. For two years her government found itself without many mishaps, some seasons without as many good things as the other, but there was growth. Everyone saw that.

Even in the Six Kingdoms and from Dorne to Essos, the world knew how much the North prospered under the hands of Sansa Stark.

The girl who saw everything and learned everything.

"Open the gates!"

The word spreads out from man to man when they saw the presence of Sansa's little caravan accompanied by the Knight Brienne of Tarth, she was visiting the queen at that time.

"Open the gates!"

They entered through the gates of the Castle Black with their horses protected by blankets from the cold. Sansa was wearing one of her favorite cloaks, it belonged to her father and which Bran had sent her as a gift along with some of Ned's favorite belongings, the others he kept for himself.

Sansa was a woman today, a woman with the beauty given generously by the gods, and there were men, men who did not see or have been with a woman for a long time. She was aware of this, aware of the types of looks she would receive because, unlike the first time she was here, Sansa was a woman now and the crown which adorned her head made her physical attractiveness even greater.

"Your grace." A man, with funny features and dirty skin, shorter than Sansa and very thin where his cloak showed, greeted her. "What do I owe the honor of your visit?"

"I came to speak with your Lord Commander."

Everyone there knew that the beautiful queen with the hair kissed by the fire was the dear sister of the Lord Commander.

"He's in his chambers. Shall I announce you, My Queen?"

"There's no need for that. Would you be so kind and get us accommodations?" Sansa looked at those who were with her. Besides Brienne, there was her Maister and four other soldiers who protected her on the roads whenever she took a trip. "I understand that we have arrived without warning, but we have come to deal with important matters, and we will stay for three days."

The man nodded, other crows crowding around them like a plague. Sansa was disgusted by the stench that many of them exuded. Good thing Jon was clean, otherwise she couldn’t bear to hug him, and it was something she was eager to do.

She missed him too much.

Sitting in his chair, Jon thoughtfully analyzed the crackling fire in the hearth. His mind dancing from Daenerys's death, Drogon's fury, his punishment, the coronation of Sansa he couldn’t witness and returned to today - looking around - he defined that, being at Castle Black once more, as his own prison.

All he wanted was to be in the North with Sansa. That Arya hadn’t entered that ship, that they might finally be a family. It was all he wanted, from the day he was born to today, his deepest desire within his heart: to have a family to call his own.

Jon could not help the smile that formed at his face when he remembered the last fight he had with Sansa. Before he set out on a ship to the Wall, he was wrapping his cloak around himself, and Sansa urged him to tie two knots and a bow because it was too heavy, and he said one knot was enough. He almost thought it was a mirage or madness of his head when he came to himself and Sansa was standing right in front of him, in a well-sewn gray outfit protecting her from the cold, her hair long, loose and with thick waves dancing around her face and shoulders.

The time was generous with her.

"Sansa!" He exclaimed as a prayer and got up immediately in his urgency to have her in his arms. He regretted that Sansa didn’t like hugs, but there were times when he ignored her wishes. He didn’t know how much she was anxious for it, to feel the heat of Jon surrounding her.

Protective, loving, faithful. That was her Jon.

He cupped her face with both hands, grinning for finally have her there, right in front of him. They hadn’t seen each other for two years, letters were their only communication and they were many. Sansa had a box of white oak in her room full of parchment, all filled with Jon's words.

"It's good to have you here." His words made her smile. It was rare times when they put tensions aside and were themselves. Just Jon and Sansa. And he never understood why Sansa was so fond of arguing and disagreeing with him, but he didn’t complain anyway.

"I bring news."

"Good ones, I hope." He said right after she spoke. Sansa was a little annoyed because she would report her real motive right away and he cut her off.

"The Wall is mine now. It belongs to the North." Jon frowned, processing the combination of those words and the smile that widened on Sansa's face. "You can go home now, to Winterfell. You're free."

Notes:

Sorry for the mistakes in writing and grammar. English is not my mother language.

This story is a collaboration between me and littlegirlinvisible. The story is originally mine with some points and ideas given by her.

The gifset was made by her, her creativity, and they follow the story line. We’ll try to make weekly or biweekly posts. Everything will depend on our creativity and time.

Follow the tag # swan song jonsa fanfic to see the posts and the gifsets whenever you want..

I sincerely hope that everyone is enjoying it.

CHAPTER INDEX:

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

#jonsa #swan song jonsa fanfic #jonsa fanfiction #jonsa fic #jonsa is endgame #sansa queen in the north #jonsa fandom #sansa x jon #jon x sansa #otp #got #got fanfiction #jonsa au #got au #jonsa is coming

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metalgearkong · 4 years

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Jedi: Fallen Order - Review (PS4)

11/24/19

Developed by Respawn Entertainment

Up until now, Electronic Arts has taken the wrong direction with their exclusive Star Wars license. So far they created not one, but two awful Star Wars: Battlefront games, both overstuffed with microtransactions and unethical loot boxes. Sure the graphics, sights, and sounds of Star Wars were present, but when the entry fee was $60 and the base game had so little to it, I wasn’t a fan. Jedi: Fallen Order is an answer to all the rightful criticism EA has taken, and they have finally funded developer Respawn Entertainment to make a dedicated single-player, offline, action/adventure game that Star Wars fans have wanted for years. Jedi: Fallen Order is an enormous step in the right direction with the Star Wars license, and shows the potential on what a lot of money and talented people can create when backed by passion.

This is yet another game taking place place between episodes III and IV, a few years after Order 66 and the fall of the Jedi Order. I don’t know if the Force Unleashed games are still considered canon, but I certainly hope not. We play as Cal Kestis, a young Jedi Padawan who survived the purge, and has been hiding out for years as a scrapper taking apart old ships from the war. The Empire has established itself firmly as the dominant superpower of the galaxy, equipped with all the classic Star Wars stuff I love, such as AT-ATs, AT-STs, Stormtroopers, and TIE fighters. A few additions include the Inquisitors, apparently Dark Jedi not following the "rule of two,” who seek out and kill the remaining Jedi in hiding. I guess they come from a TV show or something, but I’ve never watched any of those. Accompanying them are Purge Troopers, who use electro-magnetic melee weapons and can be a struggle to take down. I think the Purge Troopers should have just taken the role of the Inquisitors because I think it would be way cooler to know that the only experienced Force-users left alive now are Obi-Wan, Yoda, the Emperor, and Vader.

The gameplay could be described as a combination of Uncharted exploring, and Dark Souls combat (although it more so reminds me of 2018′s God of War, also inspired by Dark Souls). I didn’t give this game enough credit in the beginning. I decided to play the game on the hard difficulty option, but a few a few hours, I bumped it back down to normal mode. I underestimated the combat and how tough even simple enemies could be. Encounters involve locking on to one enemy at a time, and timing attacks, parries, and dodges. Even low level bad guys can take down your health, especially because they usually appear in small groups. I quite enjoyed fighting members of the Empire, especially basic Stormtroopers, but fighting creatures was much more annoying. Space bugs, space rats, and space crabs feel like a chore to kill as they leap backwards and avoid your lightsaber strikes, and its often harder to read their telegraphs.

Coming across a squad of Stormtroopers is always where I had the most devilish fun. I appreciate how the game gave the troops a lot of personality. You can hear them chatting to each other before a fight, and they make sarcastic comments as you slowly dwindle their numbers. Laser bolts can be reflected back at the shooter, making ranged combat pretty easy. It’s when the game mixes melee enemies and ranged enemies where it gets a little more tricky and engaging. Every melee trooper is a Scout Trooper and I found that a little hilarious and inconsistent compared to a Scout’s role and ability levels from the films. I didn’t realize they can stand toe-to-toe with a Jedi using their electric sticks and block plenty of lightsaber strikes before being killed. I also liked the detail that when an AT-ST is defeated, you then get to brutally execute the pilot as he scrambles out and fires his pistol as a last ditch effort before his merciless death.

Bosses range from the aforementioned AT-STs, as well as large indigenous creatures found on different planets. Each world, from what I could tell, also has an optional, semi-hidden boss. These didn’t draw my attention much because they’re basically clones of other tougher creatures, only with a greater damage output, higher speed, and more health. You do get experience points for defeating enemies, but I lived happily without taking down these frustrating side-bosses. The most blatant rip-off of the Souls-like formula is the fact that when you rest at meditation spots (save points), it resets all the enemies in the level. This makes more sense in a game with tighter gameplay, such as Hollow Knight or Dark Souls, but there’s not as much of a need for experience points, and the gameplay isn’t reliable enough to warrant farming XP from regular enemies over and over again. I nearly gagged when the game warned me that meditating resets the enemies around you. I’m sick of seeing this mechanic, especially if it isn’t necessary.

I wish the gameplay was a little tighter and snappier. Enemies telegraphy their attacks well enough most of the time, but if an enemy is about to do an unblockable attack, the game doesn’t let you react quick enough to go from blocking to dodging. Many times I’d be blocking or trying to parry, and when an unblockable attack was coming, I couldn’t quick-step to the side fast enough. This means your reflexes not only have to be good enough, but you have to give the game a head start because it takes some time to go from one thing to another. This would happen often enough to get me frustrated. Another annoyance was Cal falling to the ground when the block meter isn’t depleted, and getting hit repeatedly as he’s trying to get up. I get that you can’t block forever, but you shouldn’t be “stunned” when the block meter isn’t empty yet. I don’t know if some of the clumsiness was intentional, but I would get pissed off during tougher fights because I felt like I was fighting an enemy as well as the mechanics.

This all has to do with combat, but I found the traversing to be more reliable. Respawn Entertainment definitely borrows heavily from the Uncharted and rebooted Tomb Raider series. Cal can’t do a lot at first, but as he remembers powers over time, you unlock more abilities such as Force push, Force pull, wall running, double jumping, and more. Sliding down icy or muddy slopes is always fun, especially when combined with other traversal obstacles such as gaps and the need to wall run at the beginning or end. If you die in combat, your brought back to a meditation point, but if you die while adventuring, the game resets you quickly and with a small loss of health. The animations were great as well. I really did feel like a character in the Star Wars universe climbing rocky terrain, jumping over ledges, climbing, and all sorts of stuff like that. It gave the game a cinematic feel even during gameplay. Same goes for combat which can be a little imprecise, but at least looks great. It’s funny, however, that a lot of what prevents Cal from going to new places is the game, is him simply not “remembering” how to do something, especially when he will recall one of his skills out of the blue.

One of the greatest strengths of the game is also it’s greatest weakness: the level design. Each planet you visit has its own interconnecting environments, of which short cuts can be unlocked so you can loop back around easier in the future. The map is also extremely helpful as it gives you a 3D view of the environments, shows where you haven’t explored, shows where places are locked, and shows things like meditation spots. But there isn’t one bit of fast-travel in the game, so when you find yourself deep in a tomb or canyon, you have to hike your way all the way back to your ship. Granted, the developers have tried their best to make the way back interesting with new enemies or new ways to get back to the start, but when some of the environments are as large and twisting as they are, it can be a grind to get from A to B sometimes. Regardless, I’m impressed with how big and detailed each location is (my favorite being the lush jungles of Kashyyyk). It also gives you reminders of places you can re-explore once new abilities are unlocked.

The story itself is one of the worst aspects of the game. While the settings and storytelling itself can be quite good on regular occasions, the overall plot is extremely basic. When Cal is forced to use his powers to save his friend during an industrial accident, he draws the attention of the Empire and the Inquisitors. The game becomes a race between you and the Empire to find a hidden list of Force-sensitive children left in the galaxy. This list (Holocron) has been hidden by a former Jedi who simply has put it in a difficult place to get to simply as a test, so that anyone who finds it would be “worthy” or something. We don’t necessarily see the Empire taking steps to find this list, but they pop in and our during cinematics when it’s convenient for the game. It’s basically an excuse to hop between a handful of planets and get slightly further and further as we unlock new abilities (a la Metroidvania). We spend a vast amount of time in deep tombs, putting Lara’s recent adventures to shame. It got old after a bit, even if the graphics and designs were gorgeous. I also think the game had one or two many giant ball puzzles.

The acting can be hit or miss as well. The most annoying character was Cere (Debra Wilson), one of the members of your small crew, who is a former Jedi Master, but has cut herself off from the Force. I think on a technical level, Wilson plays this character like a seasoned actor, but I found Cere’s character to be like one of those teachers or supervisors who is more dramatic than she needs to be. Cere comes off as condescending and a bit self-important, making excuses for herself while holding Cal to a very noble and high standard. She just comes off as endlessly melodramatic, and I don’t see a lot of need for her to have been a former Jedi, especially because she’s nothing but a co-pilot, quest-giver, and expositioner.. Cal Kestis (Cameron Monaghan) is a very vanilla hero who isn’t too bright, but is very altruistic. He has to have everything explained to him, even though I think he could have easily been telling other characters information, rather than being so clueless as a Jedi Padawan. Monaghan does a pretty good job playing him, I just thought the character itself was a little bland and typical.

Instead of the main Inquisitor chasing you around (called the “Second Sister”) I think being pursued by Darth Vader would have been way more fun. How much cooler would it have been to be hunted by THE Darth Vader, him doing exactly what his job was during this time period? Another inconsistency that irked me was that Cal is a Padawan, yet he’s proficient in single blade, staff, and double lightsaber combat. I know this makes the game more “fun” but it doesn’t make sense to me that a teenage Padawan is an expert in three forms of lightsaber combat, each of them needing nearly a lifetime to master. I was annoyed I could switch to a lightsaber staff at any time with no background or explanation for it. I would have liked it much more if the story and game stuck to single blade combat, and not felt like it would have been too basic or boring for most players. But I think the larger thing to blame is the Star Wars canon and Force-using, lightsaber-using people don’t get much of a technical explanation on how much the Force aids you or how much training you need to do on your own.

It may not seem like it, but overall I am actually pretty happy with Jedi: Fallen Order. Not only does it eschew the practices EA has become notorious for, but it’s a game in a genre I really enjoy. Aside from some combat imperfections, flat story, and average characters, I had a lot of fun exploring this game at every turn. Finding chests with cosmetic collectibles and playing with the Force powers kept me going from one corner to the next. I also enjoyed the music which was done by composers Stephen Barton and Gordy Haab, instead of relying too much on the famous John William tracks (although they are heard far and few between). They evoked a Star Warsy tone and atmosphere without outright copying existing works. I loved moments like my first AT-ST fight, or climbing and piloting an AT-AT. Most of the set-piece moments were exciting and unique for a Star Wars video game. It certainly has its blemishes, but definitely not things that couldn’t be ironed out in a future sequel. I really hope Respawn Entertainment and EA continue on this path of coming up with semi-original stories with their Star Wars license and make single player driven experiences.

7.5/10

#jedi fallen order #star wars #lucasarts #respawn entertainment #cal kestis #debra wilso #inquisitors #darth vader #stormtroopers #star wars game #review #ps4

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rosesisupposes · 5 years

Text

Do It For Us

Sequel to Do It For Him

word count: 5,881

pairing: Royality, background Analogical

warnings: Some mentions of poverty, forced ending of friendships, Deceit Is A Bit Of A Dick, mention of arranged/forced marriage, but mostly Quite A Lot of Fluff

reader tags: @residentanchor @royally-anxious @bewarethegrammarpolice @jemthebookworm @arandompasserby @sparkly-rainbow-salt @astral-eclipse @thelowlysatsuma @adorably-angsty

And, of course, happy birthday month to Royality Queen @notveryglittery and a million thanks to my beta reader and platonic wife @mariniacipher

I had so much fun with the previous fluff, and then @xxxbladeangelxxx inspired me to give the sunshine gays a sequel <3

Read on ao3

Sun glinted and flashed over the metallic staccato of swords clashing against each other. Grunts of efforts mixed with heavy breathing, as two men squared off in the castle courtyard. One feinted to his right then brought his blade in a flashing arc to his left, but his opponent saw through the ruse and blocked easily before retaliating with a snake-like thrust, laying his blade on the other’s neck. The man knelt, acknowledging defeat.

“I yield.”

“A good match, Ian!”

The kneeling man smiled, shaking sweat-matted hair out of his eyes. “It’s kind of you to say, but we all know you’re just so gods-cursed fast, Sir Roman. All we can hope for is to hold our own.” The standing knight grinned, auburn hair only just barely dark at the edges from exertion. “That’s what training’s for, is it not? Learning how to beat me.”

Roman was stretching and chatting with other knights and soldiers in the training yard when he caught sight of a silent audience member to the early morning exercises.

He slipped over to the corner to greet his Prince, grabbing a damp towel on the way to wipe his face.

“Patton, dearest, what wakes you so early?”

The young heir to the throne grinned up impishly at the knight-captain of his guard. “A little birdie told me you practiced shirtless.”

None of his bravado and bluster was enough to prepare Roman for this. A blush immediately spread across his cheeks as his gaze dropped. He was the man primarily responsible for the kingdom’s heir, and he’d run his mother’s farm for years before beginning the rigorous knight training of the past decade and a half. Every inch of his body had been toned in service to the crown and the prince in front of him. And said prince was gazing besottedly at his muscled chest with a warmth that had nothing to do with lust. Or rather, almost nothing.

Pulling them both around the corner, out of view of the soldiers, Roman leaned down to kiss Patton softly. Patton smiled up into the kiss, feeling the heat of Roman’s continuing blush. He broke apart, letting the sensation linger, when suddenly he squeaked as Roman lifted him and spun him around.

“Who knew our sweet prince was so shallow?” he asked with a lopsided grin.

“Only my gaze is shallow: my love is deep,” the prince responded, giggling as he regained his footing. He kissed Roman’s cheek and delighted in the pink tinge that resumed there.

“Dear one, as much as I love to see you, I am starving. I’m on my way to the kitchens unless you need my protection now?”

Patton’s smile dropped for a moment before returning. “No, sweet. I would never keep you from your meals. I will be in my room.”

Growing up as a single child in a royal family meant a young Patton had to be rather creative when it came to making friends. An impressively strong sweet tooth combined with an ability to easily slip past his etiquette teacher led him to toddle down to the kitchens almost every other day. Puppy eyes earned him cookies from the maids and chefs unable to resist. It was after a successful mission, when he was sitting in his favorite alcove, munching on macarons, that he spotted another boy his age.

“Hey! Hello! Who are you?” he piped up happily, waving with his free hand. The other balanced his haul of violet cookies in his now-stained tunic.

The boy froze, eyes wide as he realized the comment had been indeed aimed at him.

“Me? ‘M no one.”

“Silly, no one is no one!” the little prince said cheerfully. “Do you wanna mac’ron?”

The boy approached shyly. “Yeah, that would be nice. They’re my fav’rite color too.”

Patton handed the dark-haired child one of the tiny sandwiches. Cautiously, the other bit into it.

“Oh! ‘S good!” he exclaimed, mouth full.

“What’s your name?”

“Um, Virgil. Virge.”

“I’m Patton! Hi!”

Virgil nearly dropped the remaining half of the cookie. “The prince?”

“Uh-huh! Here, do you want another?”

“I, uh, no, I can’t, they said I can’t talk to the prince or the king or the duke because I’m too little and shy, I don’t wanna be bad.”

“That’s silly,” the little prince said. He squinted at the other boy. He’d already decided that Virge was his new best friend - for the first time, an adult hand wasn’t immediately pulling him away from him. “Dada is very nice. An’ Lyle is silly. You won’t be bad for talking to them!”

Virgil swallowed, then ate more of the cookie. “You sure?”

“Of course!” Patton responded, beaming. “Do you wanna play with me?”

Every day, Virgil expected he’d see the last of the prince, that playing hide-and-seek with a scullery servant would lose its appeal. But instead, their friendship only grew as the years stretched on.

When they were ten, he’d snuck Patton out of the castle for the first time, checking behind him every second. But they’d made it into the city without detection. They’d played hopscotch with other children in the main square, helped a seamstress hold her fabric still, and found a mother cat giving birth to a litter of kittens. Not even discovering his allergy to the fluffy creatures had dampened the young royal’s spirits, and they’d snuck back into the castle high on success.

When they were fourteen, Patton had found Virgil hiding in the dark corner, trying to calm racing thoughts that wouldn’t shut up. Patton had held his hand, talking quietly, and gotten him to start listing what he could see and feel. Virgil had confessed that he’d never tried those strategies before. Patton had hugged him tight to make up for all the times he hadn’t been there.

Roman had put a shirt on, at last, to go find food after training. Following his nose, he spied jam tarts cooling on the counter and slipped into the kitchen through the back door. Cautiously, he went to take a treat, only to get his hand slapped by a mixing spoon. Virgil’s glare made him smile sheepishly.

“Just one?”

“If you want to explain to the full Noble’s Council why their pastry tray isn’t perfectly arranged, then yes, you may have ‘just one,’” the pastry chef complained. “You know we have regular food down here, too.”

Roman sighed dramatically. “But without pastries, how will I survive? How will I live? I beg of you, take pity on me!”

“Then beg,” Virgil responded flatly. Then he made the mistake of making eye contact with the knight and snorted, falling into true laughter. “I’m making regular jam cookies later, Ro. Come back in the afternoon, I’ll keep some on the side for you. These are just the nice ones, kay?”

Roman grinned. “This is why you’re the coulis-t person I know, Virge.”

Virgil groaned in response. “I never should have taught you proper pastry terms. Talyn has some sliced ham and rolls in the next room, go beg from them, alright? I need to finish decorating.”

The knight gave a small mock of a bow and obeyed.

He and Virgil hadn’t always been so friendly. As a young man arriving to the castle for knight training, he’d haunted the kitchens every waking moment. The idea of a full belly was still exciting to a boy whose farm had struggled with droughts for almost half his life. But his sister and her husband had taken over the farm, and he’d been picked out for his strength to become a fighter.

He’d spent his first month in the castle sneaking into the storerooms at every given opportunity, eating anything he thought he could get away with. The kitchen helper, who was about his age, perhaps a year younger, had caught him first in the middle of the day, despite the lunch rush, then in the dead of night. How had he even been awake?

Roman was self-conscious of his hunger, surrounded by all that wealth, and lashed out at the creepy cookie who kept turning up when he least expected it.

But then, one quiet afternoon, he’d been sure the kitchens would be entirely empty. It was the rest period, so surely the safest time for a quick snack. Walking cautiously, he’d rounded the corner, only to see Virgil, covered in flour and butter stains as he carefully plaited a pie crust into a sheaf of wheat. The serenity of his concentration, the clear ease that came with no kitchen madness around him, and his proud smile as he successfully sealed his pastry forced Roman to see him in a new light. He’d cautiously come forward and complimented a job well done. One would think he’d actually seen a field of wheat, once!

The other man had nearly jumped out of his skin at first, but had then calmed enough to wave off the compliment with a smile. They’d had an actual conversation for the first time ever, and hundreds more soon followed. A strange friendship, perhaps, one that was tested every time Virgil made homemade jam for a treat that Roman wasn’t allowed to eat, but a strong friendship all the same.

Roman often wished he was able to show his love for Patton more openly, so that he could introduce the prince to the friends he’d made in the castle.

As he got into uniform to begin an official day as Patton’s protector, Roman spared a sigh for an old friend he’d yet to find here in the capital city. Growing up in a small farming community on the furthest borders of the kingdom, Roman had known only his siblings and parents until a new family moved into the plot next door. Their house burst with children, but there was one boy his age, one who viewed his very energetic siblings with a world-weary eye, even at seven years old. But Roman, the youngest by a huge age gap, was lonely, and jumped at even a stick-in-the-mud as a potential playmate.

Their parents saw Logan and Roman’s friendship as oil and water, yelling matches during chores, long arguments that stretched through the harvest. But their clashes only showed how well-matched they were, how their competition forced them both to improve. Logan brought home books from the headwoman’s private library and introduced Roman to classics and plays, if only so they could immediately argue about the proper interpretation. More than one winter’s night found them in one of the barns with Roman leaping around a makeshift stage in an effort to prove how dramas were meant to be seen, not read.

But then, Logan left. The headwoman knew how much his parents struggled through the droughts with so many mouths to feed, and saw Logan’s innate brilliance. She found an opportunity for him to receive room and board in the capital city itself, and he’d be able to receive the best education Solarya had to offer. It was everything he could have wanted - except, he couldn’t bring his friend. Roman couldn’t leave his farm, anyway - his older brother was serving in the army, his sister had married and moved, and there was no one else to help his parents.

“Lo, I promise, someday I’ll come join you! You’ll see!”

“Roman, while I hope you’re correct, do not make promises you may never be able to keep. It is enough to say that we will try to reunite one day.”

They were standing at the gate, waiting for the coach that would take Logan and his few worldly possessions away, when Roman impulsively hugged the other boy. “I’ll miss you, Logan.”

The eleven-year-old stiffened, then hesitantly hugged back. “I… will miss you as well, Roman.”

Logan hadn’t expected the capital to be so overwhelming. Obviously there would be more people, but why was it so loud? Did more people in one space mean everyone needed to shout all the time? Even inside the castle, there was ambient sound everywhere. He didn’t find his first moment of peace until he was shown to the library. And the quiet of the room couldn’t compare to the symphony of excitement in his brain. Who knew there were so many books? So much knowledge to be unlocked! He was about to dive in when the closing door behind him caught his attention.

“Hello there!” a cheerful voice said in a very energetic library whisper. “You must be Logan!”

Turning, he caught sight of a jovial-looking man in the robes of a Royal University scholar. Round glasses balanced atop a long nose above a huge smile. “I’m Dr. Picani, your tutor. Do you how do?”

Logan stared. This man was not at all what he’d pictured as the most-respected professor in the kingdom. And what was that last sentence? He recognized all the words, but not in that order.

“Uh, hello?” he murmured back. “Yes, I’m Logan. I… sorry, you’re my tutor?”

“You betcha!” the happy man replied. “Not yours alone, of course. We’ll be sharing our time with one other student, who should arrive any second. Let’s go to the study room, shall we?”

He led the way to a small room that contained even more books in addition to a huge slate hung on the wall and two tables with a handful of chairs. Logan sat, still a bit dazed.

Barely a moment had passed before a rap sounded on the door. Dr. Picani opened it to reveal a huge soldier with a no-nonsense expression. “Dr. Picani. His Highness for his lessons.”

The professor nodded, and the soldier stepped aside to reveal a boy a bit younger than Logan. He had clean golden curls and wore a silk tunic. Logan was immediately uncomfortable. Sharing a class with a noble? Who’d probably be much smarter and resentful of sharing a class with a less-educated commoner? He looked down at the wood grain of the table, swallowing disappointment with the reality of what had appeared to be all his dreams coming true.

“Hiya!” a voice cut through. “I’m Patton, what’s your name?”

“Uh, Logan,” he replied, looking up once more.

“Nice to meet you Logan! I’ve never seen you in the castle before, are you new?”

“Yes, I just moved to the city.” Logan decided to not mention where he’d come from - better not give this noble any more reason to look down on him, no matter how strangely friendly he appeared to be. “I presume you’ve lived here for many years?”

“Since I was born! Not that I remember it exactly. Or really anything until I was three. Maybe I only moved here then? No but Dad says we’ve always been here so that’s probably right…”

Logan stared at the other young man as he happily chattered away. Was this what all nobles were like? The few who’d ridden through his hometown had barely made eye contact, let alone talked to commoners like normal people.

“Your Highness, maybe we better start the lesson?” Dr. Picani interjected with a smile.

Logan’s eyes grew huge in his face as he stared at the boy next to him. The guard had said it too - was this really the Prince of Solarya? Yes, Logan knew the Prince was named Patton, but it had become a very popular name in short order since the royal family chose it. The heir to the entire kingdom was grinning bashfully up at their shared tutor, practically still bouncing in his seat with anticipation.

The capital city was bizarre. But seeing the eager smiles on both his tutor’s and the prince’s faces, Logan realized he was probably going to have to get used to it.

As he neared his eighteenth birthday, Prince Patton was pulled into a small audience with his father and the vizier. Both men were stern.

“Prince Patton, why have you been neglecting your deportment classes?”

Patton winced - he’d hoped they wouldn’t notice. “Actually, Father, I have been using that time to learn more about my future kingdom and subjects-”

“You mean you’ve been spending excess time with your servants,” Duke Lyle cut in. Patton fell quiet, seeing his father’s frown deepen.

“Patton, you’re the crown prince; one day, you’ll be king. Our entire country’s fate will be in your hands. But the throne is only as strong as the respect our people have for it. If the prince himself doesn’t exercise proper decorum, doesn’t maintain the acceptable boundaries between liege and vassal, then no one will. Order will disintegrate, and every noble house in our realm will be affected. Now that you are coming of age, you must end these distractions, before another day passes.”

“But Father-”

“No buts, Prince Patton. My decision is final. If you cannot treat those who serve us in the proper manner, and insist on treating them as peers, I will be forced to dismiss them entirely.”

Patton felt tears brimming at the edge of his eyes. He was to lose his friends, then, no matter what he did. At the very least, he would not cost them their livelihoods.

“Very well, Father. I will do as you ask.”

Duke Lyle watched, eyes glittering in victory, as Patton left his father’s study and slowly trudged up the tower steps to his room.

Patton’s birthday arrived, and he was officially presented to the realm as the now-adult heir, no longer just the son of the king but now the official Crown Prince and king-to-be. He performed his role in the pageantry well, smiling and appearing solemn in the appropriate moments. He greeted dignitaries who brought well-wishes, he listened to subjects’ petitions as they appealed to his father, and he did his best to follow the deliberations of his father’s council of advisors. But under his polite mask, he was miserable.

Without his friends, he was alone in a world filled with adults who expected him to carry himself with all the dignity of a royal, yet did not listen to a single suggestion he made. Without the ability to visit Logan in the library, or Virgil in the kitchens, Patton’s days started to blend into one another as he was sent from meeting to audience to meal to meeting.

He begged his father to at least let him visit the city. “I won’t forget my position, Your Majesty. But I wish to be visible to them, at least. Please?”

King Thomas weighed his son with his eyes, then relented. “You may, then. But you’ll need a guard with you at all times.”

Patton deflated the slightest bit. “I suppose that would be most proper, wouldn’t it. One of the castle guards, then?”

Duke Lyle piped up, “Your Majesty, now that the Prince is of age, he ought to have a personal contingent of guards, shouldn’t he?”

The king nodded. “Indeed. There are a number of promising knights who might perform the job quite well.”

Patton was able to even smile naturally at both men. Having to keep the common folk at arm’s length wasn’t ideal, but at least he’d be able to talk to them. And having a knight-guardian would mean he’d at least have companion, if not a friend.

“Your Royal Highness,” Duke Lyle spoke up. “It has come to my and His Majesty’s attention that your silver jubilee is approaching.”

“My what?”

“You turn 25 this year, son,” the king answered. “When I was your age, I had been married a year, and you, my first child, had been born. It is time we look into marriage for you.”

“Father, Duke Lyle, I hardly think such a thing is necessary, not when Father is in such good health-”

“This is not just for the purpose of heirs and lineage, your Highness,” the vizier said smoothly. “Through your marriage, we can make an alliance, or settle tensions with noble houses in our realm or our neighbors’.”

Patton twisted hands in his tunic, hoping neither man noticed. How could he bear to marry another, when Roman’s love was all he wanted or sought? But they’d never approve, or allow such a thing.

“For instance,” the duke continued, his tone one of careful detachment, “the great house of Sanders has a son about your age. His parents are actively searching for an eligible match for him. And of course, they would never want to match him with someone entirely outside his preferences, just as we never would for you, Prince.”

“There are also some younger sons in neighboring kingdoms who could potentially make for a good alliance, but securing the support of House Sanders would be my preference,” the king added.

“I, uh, I thank you, your Majesty, your Grace. May I be excused to think on these options?”

“Of course, son. We will resume at another time.”

Patton walked outside quickly. Pushing through the door into the hall, he came face-to-face with Roman, who was smiling at him with that same gorgeous light in his eyes that always set the butterflies in his stomach a-flutter. But now the butterflies were sluggish and frail, disintegrating into a nauseating goo.

“Roman, can you come to my room? We need to talk,” Patton said. His normal smile quivered as he looked around the hall for observers.

“Of course, dearheart,” Roman said warmly, leading the way. He was so graceful in all his movements that Patton’s heart burned just to watch him walk away.

“Roman, my rose, it’s my father, and the vizier. They… want me to marry. A political marriage. One who just so happens to be Duke Lyle’s nephew. The young Baron Remington of House Sanders.”

Roman stiffened, then smiled sadly. “We knew it would come to this, did we not? We dared to love, knowing the impropriety of it, but we dared all the same. Sunshine, I would never interfere with your duty. I will always guard you, with my heart and my life, but if you must needs marry this noble, I will not stand in the way.”

“You wouldn’t resent it?”

“Would I pine and sorrow for my misfortune?” Roman asked, kissing Patton’s hand softly, then holding it against his own cheek. “Of course I will. I’ll curse my ill luck in being born common, cry fie upon the stars for separating us by our lineage. But I could never resent you, dearheart. Nor can I regret having the chance to have known you and loved you these past six years, not when I treasure each adoring glance and each kiss as dearly as I treasure my life. I only ask that you allow me to remain your vassal and guard, to hold you safe when I cannot hold you close.” Patton melted, hearing Roman’s rich, caramel-sweet voice speak such tender words of devotion. He leaned in to kiss the knight’s affectionate words while they lingered on his lips, and in that moment made a decision.

“Roman, I am to be king, am I not?”

“You’re already the king of my affections, but yes, you will be king of Solarya too, in time.”

“And the king’s rule of Solarya is absolute.”

“As it has been since the Sun herself named the first monarch, yes.”

Patton nodded. “If I’m to be the absolute ruler in the future, I can’t let anyone push me around with edicts that go against my heart and conscience.”

Roman caressed his prince’s cheek with a quizzical expression. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I won’t be coerced into marrying for politics when it necessitates a revolt against my affections. I will refuse to marry Baron Sanders.”

Roman felt his heart galloping in his chest as he met Patton’s shining, determined eyes.

“Patton, do you mean…?”

“Yes, my dear knight. Please, if you’ll have me…” He sank to one knee in front of Roman, keeping their hands clasped. “Sir Roman, will you marry me?”

Roman felt tears leaking out the edge of his eyes as he smiled so wide that his cheeks started to ache. “I will follow you to the ends of the earth, Prince Patton. I have been and always will be yours. Yes, I will marry you, dearest sweet.”

Patton found he was tearing up as well Roman pulled him up to stand with him. Brushing his cheek with light fingers, Patton kissed his now-fiancé thoroughly. As the kiss suddenly turned salty from spilled tears, both men started to giggle. Roman felt his breath catch in his chest, watching the afternoon sun catch Patton’s curls as he threw his head back to laugh. The knight pulled his prince back to him, tasting the sound of laughter on his love’s lips.

“Father. I am not going to marry the Baron. I will be marrying my guard, Sir Roman.” The king stared in shock as his son continued, doors still hanging open from him barging into the king’s private study. “I will be also inviting my old friends from within the castle to our wedding. You may rule as you wish while you continue on the throne, but my reign will not be so divided between classes.”

The vizier, in his customary place by the king’s side, found his voice. “Your Highness, this is all highly-”

“‘Highly improper’? Yes, your Grace, I’m sure it is. And I plan to do it all the same.”

“Your Majesty, you must intercede-”

King Thomas turned to face his chief advisor. “Lyle, you know I value your judgment and advice, but it’s true. Patton will determine his own ruling style. I won’t undermine it, through marriage or otherwise.”

The duke tried once more. “Perhaps, then, a small, private ceremony within the castle?”

“No, your Grace. I am not ashamed of my fiancé nor his status. It will be a full state wedding.”

And it was.

The day dawned bright and sparkling. Keepers of the royal dovecote prepared the white feathery creatures for the grand finale. Footmen laid yards and yards of carpet along the aisle and lined up the benches and chairs of the interior ceremony, while even more footmen and maids displayed bouquets down and out of the public audience doors where the rest of the crowd would watch.

In the office that had been taken over as the central location for the wedding planning, Patton knelt to be on eye level with his floral consultant. “Is everything in order?”

“Yup!” Val responded with a grin the displayed a missing front tooth.

“Even the crowns?”

“You don’t get to see them yet!” she responded, sticking out her tongue. “No peeking!”

Patton grinned and kissed her hand. “I’ll leave them in your capable hands then!” Standing, he exchanged a quick hug and kiss on the cheek with Teresa. He’d commissioned them to arrange every single flower for their celebration, with the full power of the royal treasury behind them. Looking around this room, still filled to bursting with lovely blooms and wreathed in a rich bouquet of scents, he knew he’d made the right choice.

He left and went through the kitchens.

There was Virgil, head pastry chef, forehead creased in concentration as he directed the last details of the grand wedding cake, as a helper delicately placed a sugar-spun rose on the top. The chef turned and caught the eye of the prince with a shy grin. Patton mirrored it and flung himself forward to hug the man.

“Thank you for forgiving me, Virgil.”

“Hey, it was royal duty and all that, right? Knowing you wanted us back, and to be part of your wedding - how could I say no? Even if it is to that lunkhead of a knight.”

“Excuse you!” Roman said, entering with an offended gasp.

Virgil smirked and hugged Roman as well. “Oh good, I didn’t want to talk about you behind your back. Always better to call you a simpleton to your face.”

Roman grinned. “I’d expect nothing more from my favorite marzi-pain. You’re going to be free for the ceremony, right?” He slipped his hand into Patton’s, still getting a tingle of excitement from being so open in front of others.

“Yes, I’m just finishing up here. Is L-, uh, is Logan getting pulled away from his books too?”

“We twisted his arm, or rather, Patton asked very kindly and possibly offered to increase the library budget. So yes.”

“Why, is there a reason you’d perhaps like our resident scholar to be present?” Patton asked in his blandest-possible court voice.

Virgil ducked his head in response and said nothing, but Roman and Patton made eye contact as they both noticed the tiny smile playing across their friend’s lips.

A servant popped his head through the kitchen door. “Your Highness! And Knight-Captain! Thank goodness. We’re getting close to the ceremony, we need to get you both ready!”

The fiancés squeezed their linked hands once more before following the servant out, waving to Virgil as they left.

Royal fanfare sounded as a string quartet began to play processional music. King Thomas stood at the altar as Duke Lyle attempted to conceal his glower in his place at the king’s elbow. They looked with the rest of the audience as people from the city, the guard, and the castle turned in their seats. Two aisles curved on either side of the seating area.

As gentle tones played, young women strode down the carpeted aisles, sprinkling flower petals. One wore light pink and purple under a blonde updo, and the other in blue and white under a matching hairdo in light brunette. Patton and Roman emerged in their wake from separate entrances. Virgil and Logan, in matching slate-grey suits, accompanied each fiancé as they paced deliberately down the aisle. Roman wore a custom dress uniform, a beautiful work in red and white, accented with gold filigree. The seal of the ancient House of Solarya had been reworked into his own flattering colors. His auburn hair was perfectly curled and shone in the sunlight. But it was nothing compared to the blaze of his smile as he neared his beloved Prince.

Patton gripped Virgil’s elbow tight as he strove to keep his steps in time with the music. The prince had kept the pomp of his station for the ceremony itself, but when it came to his own person, his modesty shone through. He did not wear the silken doublet and hose of the royal family, nor the yards-long cloak. He had chosen to leave off even a modest tiara or circlet to show his rank. Instead, he dressed in the finery of his citizens: tailored long jacket and long pants in his signature light blue. In his lapel, a rose as red as cherries in summer was affixed proudly, mirroring the lovely sprig of hydrangea pinned to Roman’s sash.

At last, both journeys down the aisle were complete, as Roman and Patton came face-to-face at the aisle. Taking his hands, Patton smiled so wide his face was practically split in two. The musicians finished on a last sweet note as King Thomas stood forward to officiate.

“Ladies, lords, nonbinary nobility, and all our treasured friends of Solarya,” he spoke, his strong voice projecting out the open public doors to the waiting public beyond. “Thank you, one and all, for joining us on a day of such bliss for our family. Our son and heir, Prince Patton, means today to wed Sir Roman, Knight-Captain of the Castle Guard. We are beyond proud of our son, and bless this union wholeheartedly. They have prepared their own vows.” The king stepped back, bowing their head. Virgil, far too close to the current head of the nation for his comfort, was startled to spot the king wiping away a single happy tear that coursed down the royal cheek.

“Dearest Patton,” Roman began, clearing his throat. “Whether near or far, I am always yours. I was content to be your guardian from all the world. Now, I pledge to be your champion, protecting your person, your throne, and your heart. I will tell you each morning those qualities of yours that I’ve fallen in love with, and I will never run dry as I fall in love more each day. From now until forever, dear sweet. I love you.”

Logan watched his childhood friend glowing with adoration and found his normal distaste with sentiment had entirely vanished. Or perhaps it had curled up in his throat and was the reason he now felt almost close to tears. He surreptitiously sneaked a glance as his fellow groomsman and saw Virgil’s shining eyes grow soft in his face as he watched the gentle kiss Roman planted on his beloved’s hand.

Patton carefully wiped an eye underneath his glasses and took his turn to speak. “My precious Roman. I feel as if I have loved you for a thousand years, and yet I know I will love you for at least a thousand more. Glorious knight, your courage takes my breath away, and your ideals alight a fire in my mind and heart. I pledge to never again be your liege, but your partner, equal in every sense. You will be no royal consort, but my king as I will be yours. From now until forever: I love you.”

At the prince’s pronouncement, Virgil watched Roman’s eyes widen. He risked a look behind to see a similar level of shock in the king’s eyes, and something that looked like speechless indignation in the Duke’s. It seemed Patton hadn’t told any besides his best men of his plan to elevate Roman to full royal status, including his husband-to-be.

But Roman recovered as Patton elegantly bowed to kiss his hand in return, and Teresa, glorious in a coppery gown, stepped forward with a mahogany box. Virgil and Logan walked to meet her as she flipped open the top, revealing two flower crowns nestled in a velvet bed. Tiny red roses and individual blue hydrangea flowerheads created two circlets as the best men removed them and set them upon the grooms’ heads. Long silken ribbons in gold connected the two crowns to each other, allowing room for Roman and Patton to turned to face the crowd. As the audience caught sight, there was a gasp followed by a roar of approval and joy. The binding crowns, as they were called, were part of the age-old Solaryan commoner marriage ceremony. Only the most progressive or least-connected noble houses had adopted the tradition that almost every other citizen of the country practiced. But now the citizens of Solarya watched as their crown prince stood with his husband in the finery they themselves had worn on their wedding days. And the delicate crowns sat where soon would lie the two crowns of their future kings.

King Thomas was barely able to speak through his delighted tears, but managed to squeak out: “Husband and husband!”

Roman took the opportunity to dip his love deep and kiss the prince in full view of the entire kingdom as white doves took flight and celebratory bells began to peal, bright and loud. They’d done it, in spite of all. They’d defied, class, norms, and propriety to declare and affirm their love to all who cared to see. A new age of Solarya dawned on the horizon, as bright as their patron Sun and just as warm.

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lilacmoon83 · 5 years

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Dreaming Out Loud

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Chapter 113: The Duelists

"Are you sure about this?" Snow asked nervously, as she held the baby and rocked him gently and he started to fuss. Eli smiled at his little girl and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Yes...I'm sure. I'll be right there with you, but you are my heir. It's time for you and David to rule in my stead. You both are amazing leaders and you are the strong rulers that this Kingdom deserves," Eli said. Snow sighed and straightened her dress. It wasn't a ball gown and as formal as it might have been in their old land. They had decided that they would only continue to use Enchanted Forest fashions for balls, coronations, and very formal events. They had decided that the clothing native to the Land Without Magic made much more sense for their busy lives as rulers and parents. David was ruling beside her, but still continuing to police the town and now all the realms with Emma.

While Emma was Sheriff of Storybrooke, David's official title would now be King, as well as Supreme Knight and charged with protecting their Kingdom and James' as well, since they had announced that the northern Kingdom would be ruling their people jointly with David's Kingdom that they had returned to James, since David wanted to rule with Snow and take on a more active role in their protection, which didn't surprise anyone. David loved working with their daughter and was the perfect person for this role. He wore semi-formal attire beside his wife for this matter of state, but would trade it for his leather jacket and jeans, alongside Emma, when it came to policing the Kingdoms.

This morning though, Eli had invited many heads of state for this announcement, though the official coronation would come later.

"He's right sweetie...you and David are the leaders this Kingdom needs," Persephone agreed, as they watched a sparkling orange portal appear and Hades step through.

"It works…" he told his wife.

"What works?" David asked.

"Well, as you know, we still want to be close to you...but I need to rule from Olympus now," Persephone answered.

"So, I created a system of portals with a spell that will connect Olympus, this castle, and James'," Hades continued.

"Isn't that kind of dangerous?" David asked wearily.

"The portals are only accessible by the hairs of the people I used in the spell. I included those of us here, David's parents and brother, Regina, Henry, Demeter, Artemis, Apollo, Neal, Rumple, Belle, and Jefferson," Hades explained.

"That way we can still be very close by at all times and you can access Olympus whenever you need or want to," Persephone added.

"That's wonderful, mother," Snow said, as they shared a hug.

"I'm still not sure about this though," she fretted. Eli hugged her briefly and then stepped up in front of the Throne to address the nobles that were gathering. They had dismissed most of his original court when they had taken back the Kingdom. He had taken great pleasure in dismissing those that had treated his little girl so horribly. But unfortunately, dismissing them didn't mean they weren't still the nobility of his Kingdom and many of them were present. James was also present with his and David's parents, since they'd also be announcing the Kingdom merger.

"Thank you all for coming," Eli began, as he brought the attention of the room to him.

"Today, I've gathered my Kingdom together to make a very special announcement. As your King, I have made the decision that it is time for me to step down and crown my heir as your ruler," he announced, which created much commotion.

"The official coronation will come later, but my daughter and son-in-law are this Kingdom's new King and Queen, as I step down into an advisory role," he continued.

"Your daughter is an illegitimate heir!" the Duke protested.

"According to you perhaps, but there has never been a more legitimate heir than my daughter and my son-in-law is the perfect person to rule with her. I may have had to bend under your protests when I was married to Ravenna, but now as sole ruler of my Kingdom, you no longer have any power and she can no longer threaten this Kingdom with war!" he stated firmly.

"My daughter is the rightful Queen of this Kingdom and her husband will be her King," he announced.

"As our first decree as this Kingdom's rulers…" Snow began to say, as she and David joined hands.

"We're announcing that our Kingdom will merge with King James'," Snow announced.

"And the union of these two Kingdoms is blessed by the Gods," Persephone decreed.

"We know that this merger will be benefit the people. No longer will the nobility be the deal makers in your Kingdom. This is a new land and a new era where democracy will rule and the people will prosper," David said, as he spoke directly to the common person. Snow smiled at him.

"My husband is right. The days of your rulers over taxing you are over and we promise to always do what is best for the majority and not just the few that are wealthy," she promised, as the meeting dispersed. The nobility was obviously very unhappy by all of this, but others had received their announcement very well and seemed to trust their new leaders, a testament to Snow and David's reputation.

David felt his phone vibrate and answered it.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Hello there mate…" came an accented voice.

"Hook?" he asked in confusion

"You know these bloody phone things are pretty handy...a nice bit of magic in a land that's not supposed to have any," Killian commented.

"What do you want, Hook?" David questioned.

"I'm just passing on a bit of interesting information that I think you may want to investigate," he said.

"Really? And what's in it for you?" David questioned.

"Touche...but I think you'll be interested to know that I saw that bloody demon Pan conversing with Blackbeard himself," Hook informed.

"Blackbeard?" David asked skeptically.

"Yes...and as bad as I've been at times, I have nothing on Blackbeard. But don't go spreading that around. If those two are talking...it's never good and nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see those two go down," Hook replied.

"Thanks for the tip, seriously...I'll look into it right away," David said, as he hung up the phone and found Hades on the other end of the room.

"Hook just called me and said he spied Pan talking to Blackbeard. He suggested that it can't be good," David mentioned.

"Blackbeard...another one of the Underworld's biggest customers. He's right...one snake is bad enough, but two like them is much worse," Hades agreed.

"Fortunately...this might be exactly what we need to get rid of Pan," he added.

"Then I'm in...whatever you need. I want to make sure that demon can't get anywhere near my son," David said eagerly.

"Then I think I have the perfect plan," Hades replied.

~*~

"Look alive slags!" Hook ordered. Upon the uniting of the realms, Killian Jones found that his crew had returned and was without a Captain. They had returned to him, though now that all the realms were in one place, he wasn't sure what kind of future he had here. He had informed the Prince about Blackbeard's dealings with Pan, simply because he hated them both and with them out of the way, it would make controlling the seas a lot easier. But with all the realms now so close together and being ruled by Persephone, it made his need for revenge against the Crocodile even more risky. The bloody Dark One was actually friends with the Prince...now a King, which still blew his mind. Charming and the Crocodile as friends still sounded like an oxymoron to him, but then he had learned since that David had very humble beginnings, not unlike Rumpelstiltskin.

"You still seek revenge, Killian Jones, but are even more uncertain how to achieve that in this new land," Claude Frollo stated, as he appeared.

"Yes...but I assure you that I do not need the likes of you to help me find my way," Hook retorted, as he moved about his ship.

"Even if I knew of something with the ability to trap someone...anyone in a place or status. A flower that can confine even an immortal and allow them to be killed," he responded. Hook paused and turned to him.

"I've lived for more than three hundred years and know just about every flower or root in the Enchanted Forest and Neverland. No such thing exists, except perhaps Dreamshade. But the Crocodile would never fall for that. He knows its dangers too," Hook replied.

"I am not talking about dreamshade. The flower I am referring to does not have a special name. It is just a simple, rare golden flower that exists in another Enchanted forest that used to be out of reach, but that is no longer the case," Frollo responded.

"That territory beyond Neverland," Hook surmised, as he looked at this new magical forest that was now in the midst.

"Yes...if this flower's golden dust were to be combined with the power of my cauldron, I would be the God ruling the United Realms," Frollo offered.

"Hmm...exchanging the benevolent rule of Persephone for one of terror in yours…" Hook said, pretending to think about it.

"Pass…" he said.

"You'll regret this. If you will not retrieve it for me, then I will make a deal with Blackbeard. Think carefully…" Frollo warned.

"Make your deal with Blackbeard if you must. I have honor and good form. Blackbeard would betray his own mother. No deal," Hook refuted, as Frollo disappeared in a puff of smoke, quite agitated by his refusal. Hook smirked.

"You may make a deal with Blackbeard, but it won't do you any good if I get this flower first," he muttered.

"Mr. Smee!" he bellowed.

"Yes Captain?" his first mate answered.

"Prepare us to set sail," he ordered.

"What is the destination, Captain?" Smee questioned.

"That new magical forest...it's time to see what it has to offer me," Hook replied.

~*~

The bell on the shop rang and Rumple instantly felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"You have three seconds to get out…" he hissed.

"That's not a very good way to greet your father, Rum…"

"You are no father…" he hissed.

"Perhaps not...but I could be. Think about it...if we make the right moves, we can rule the United Realms. Together," Pan offered.

"I have no interest in ruling anything with you, especially not a town and Kingdoms full of zombies, which is what this place will be if you're allowed to keep eating souls," Rumple answered.

"Ah, but we both know one way that I can have the sustenance I need to join you in immortality. If I have consume a product of true love...then I will no longer need ordinary souls to sustain me," Pan explained, with a smirk.

"Think about it...there are three options for me. Emma is less desirable. Though she is powerful...her innocence is long gone. She'd give me hundreds of years for sure...but wouldn't quite get me where I need to be," he said.

"And then there is my great grandson. The grandson of the two most powerful bloodlines in existence. The lightest and the darkest. Not to mention...we both know that he has the heart of the truest believer. If I take that heart and consume his soul...I'd achieve my immortality," Pan continued.

"If you think we will let you harm our grandson…" Rumple started to say.

"Relax Rumple...as tempting as Henry is, he is also my blood," Pan responded.

"Like that has ever stopped or bothered you before," the Dark One retorted.

"True...but there is now an option that doesn't involve Henry," Pan purported.

"The baby…" Rumple muttered.

"Yes...young Alexander Nolan Charming. Another product of true love; a love written in the stars by Athena. A child born with incredible magic like his sister, but as innocent as...well a baby," Pan mused.

"You are not eating that child's soul. Believe it or not...having you in any kind of powerful position is the last thing I want," Rumple refuted. Pan frowned.

"You want to side with me, Rumple...you do not want to be my enemy," he warned.

"Besides...it's not like those two idiots won't pop out more magical babies. They gave you the one you needed for the curse and now they can give me the one I need to live," he hissed.

"Do not compare us!" the Dark One hissed, but then sobered when he saw that his father was not backing down.

"And if I refuse?" Rumple questioned.

"I'll kill them...they're souls will be nice additions," Pan threatened. Rumple glowered at him and clenched his teeth, knowing that he was referring to Bae and Belle.

"What do you need from me?" he growled. Pan smirked victoriously.

"I can handle the two idiots and even their daughter. But I need a way to neutralize Hades and Persephone," he said. Rumple sighed painfully and opened his safe, before taking out a small box and sliding it over to him on the counter.

"Pandora's box. You have to get quite close to them when you activate it, but it can trap anyone, even Gods," Rumple said. Pan smirked.

"Thank you son...you won't regret this," he said, as he disappeared in a puff of smoke. Once he did, Belle came out from the back room.

"No...I won't," Rumple said, with a smirk.

"Do you think he bought it?" she asked. He nodded.

"Of course he did. I am the Dark One, after all. He expects me to betray the heroes and family alike...because that's exactly what he would do," he replied. She smiled and kissed his cheek.

"But you're nothing like him," she said.

"Let's go...we don't want to miss the show and by that I mean...Pan's demise," he replied, as he took her hand and they left through the back of the shop.

~*~

David arrived at the docks that afternoon to follow up on Hook's tip and he spotted the pirate Blackbeard on his ship, the Queen Anne's Revenge. Naturally, he had heard of this pirate. He was a ruthless man, evil and nearly without conscious. While Hook had done some deplorable things, he knew the other pirate was the way he was because he had suffered loss in his life. It didn't excuse anything he had done, including murdering his father, but he started out as a good person. The same could not be said for Blackbeard. He did evil things and killed without a second thought, for riches or sometimes just because he felt like it. He controlled much of the seas back home, but David was determined that this wouldn't be the case here in the United Realms.

"No one is permitted aboard the ship without the Captain's permission," one of the deckhand's hissed, as he leveled his sword at David.

"This is the United Realms and the rules have changed," David said, as he flashed his badge and pushed passed the man, before making his way onto the deck.

"Well, well, it's not everyday that my humble ship is visited by a royal. And a King at that," Blackbeard announced to his crew mockingly.

"Oh believe me, I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here. But since you were spotted conspiring with an enemy to my Kingdom earlier...I'm here to investigate," David said, as he noticed the pirates began to surround him.

"Really? Conspiring with an enemy. That is a very serious charge," Blackbeard replied.

"Yeah...and you're going to tell me everything you know about what Pan is up to," David said, as he noticed the pirates drew their swords.

"Am I?" Blackbeard goaded.

"And what will you do if I don't, Prince Charming?" he questioned.

"Well, for starters, I'll take down your entire crew if they try to attack me and then you and I will duel, if you're really intent on resisting. After that, I'll cuff all of you and you'll have a nice new home in the dungeon of my castle," David said, as Blackbeard and his crew all had a good laugh at that.

"Even the illustrious Prince Charming can't take us all on," Blackbeard stated.

"But it will be fun watching you try," he added.

"Last chance...I just want to know what Pan is planning and then I'll be on my way," David warned. But they didn't heed his warning and a couple of pirates moved in. With lightning quick reflexes, David unsheathed his sword and parried their attacks.

"Stand down...I didn't hurt you on purpose. But next time, you won't be so lucky," he warned. But they ignored his warning again and he dispatched them with ease.

"Well...the stories are true. We're in the presence of a real genuine dragon slayer, men," Blackbeard boasted.

"That's right...I've slayed dragons and they smelled better than you and your crew," David retorted, making the pirate Captain chuckle.

"Fighting dragons is much different than fighting pirates. I've slayed many a royal with far more training and experience than you," Blackbeard warned.

"So you say...and I doubt they've had my training," David countered. Blackbeard smirked.

"First one to get me his head so I can present it to his Queen gets half our next haul of gold," he announced to his men. But David was ready, as the pirates attacked and he took them all on. With fluid skill and perfect technique, David did something that not many ever did and that was shock the infamous pirate, as none of his crew was left standing after a short bout against the newly minted King of Misthaven. He wore a deep frown at that and drew his own cutlass.

"I warned you...and I'll ask one more time. Tell me what Pan is up to and I'll forget that your crew attacked me. I am a father that just wants to protect his children from that demon," David stated.

"Not even I cross Pan, Your Majesty...and you'd do well not to cross him either, unless you'd like those children to be fatherless," Blackbeard warned.

"I'll take my chances," David snapped in return.

"You are as brave as the legends boast...but not even a dragon slayer quite possesses your level of skill. I'm curious as to who your instructor was," Blackbeard inquired curiously. David smirked.

"He doesn't take over the hill pirates on as students," the blonde quipped in return. Blackbeard's frown deepened into a snarl, as they engaged in an all out duel.

David maneuvered defensively and parried the pirate's blade, as he came at him with vicious strikes. As he predicted, Blackbeard had a very aggressive style that made his necessary defensive moves elaborate and thus tiring. He wasn't surprised that this was Blackbeard's style. His aggressive movements were tiring too, but he likely banked on tiring his opponent out before he himself exhausted. And David suspected that this strategy often worked. His name wasn't infamous for no reason, after all. However, David was no ordinary opponent. In one life, Anna had trained him and trained him well. His original skills were impressive enough as it was and he could match even the fiercest opponent. But in his other life, his training with Eli and Hades had only further enhanced and honed his skills. Even against such an aggressive style, David was able to maintain a complete defense without tiring too much. Hades had rigorously trained him for this type of fight as he himself had a rather aggressive style.

"You can't keep dodging me forever, boy...I'll have you shadowboxing soon," Blackbeard warned.

"You're probably right," David confirmed.

"Your pretty head will be a boast worthy prize though and I imagine your fair Queen will be quite inconsolable," he continued to boast.

"No...she'll be just fine, because I'll be going home to her like I always do and she'll be in my arms tonight, while your evening will be spent in your new home. Our dungeon," David countered. Blackbeard chuckled.

"You admitted yourself that this is not a pace you can continue," Blackbeard shot back.

"And you were right about that...which means it's time to go on the offensive," David retorted, as David's footing shifted and he came at the pirate with fell swoops and sharp angles. The pirate was forced to backpedal on his own ship and growled, as he tried to beat him back. But the smirk remained on David's face, as he matched the pirate blow for blow. Blackbeard yelled in frustration, as he brought his blade up, intending to beat his opponent down with the hilt if he had to, but his anger made him sloppy and David capitalized on the moment of error. He stopped Blackbeard's blade in a high arc and with a flick of his wrist, he split his defenses and sliced the pirate's hand. It was a minor wound, but enough to disarm him and David caught his cutlass before it could clatter to the deck. He held both weapons to the pirate's neck, forcing him to yield.

"I haven't enjoyed a dual that much in years," Hades said, as the pirate looked up to find the former God of the Underworld in the crow's nest. He jumped down easily and landed on his feet.

"Those were some nice moves. Who taught you those? Oh wait...it was me," Hades boasted, as he waved his hands and Blackbeard found himself in shackles.

"Eli deserves some credit too," David admonished.

"I suppose," the former God of the Underworld amitted, before turning his attention to the defeated pirate.

"Tell us what Pan is planning," Hades demanded to know.

"I thought you knew...he's after your brat," Blackbeard hissed, as he looked at David.

"But he wouldn't need to talk to you if he didn't need to make a deal of some sort. Tell me...or the ship burns," Hades warned, as a blue fireball appeared in his hand. Blackbeard was silent and the former God of the dead was true to his word, as he lit the mast ablaze.

"Damn you...all right! Stop! The bloody demon wanted me to create a problem big enough to distract you and your wife. He plans to take the two of you out so getting the child will be an easy play," Blackbeard confessed.

"He promised I could have its parents and ransom them to the highest bidder. He figures Frollo and Ravenna would fight over who gets their heads. Or perhaps Leopold will pay for your wife...and I think he wants more than her head," Blackbeard goaded, as he looked at David. The former Prince and now King angrily swept the pirate's legs out from under him. He hit the deck on his back and David poised his sword at his throat.

"Talk about her like that again...and we'll skip the dungeon," he warned.

"And the fates will not be kind in their judgement of you in the Underworld," Hades added.

"You have what you want...now leave me," Blackbeard hissed.

"Oh no, you're still going to a rat infested dungeon," Hades said, as he waved his hand and the pirates all disappeared.

"You were right...he's making his move today," David said worriedly.

"Don't worry...our plan is in place. This will work," Hades assured. David nodded, hoping he was right and followed his father-in-law back onto the dock. They headed for Storybrooke, where, if Hades was right, Pan was getting ready to make his move. The bait was set and the trap was ready to be sprung.

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #Regina Mills #Henry Mills #Rumbelle #Swanfire #HadesXPersephone #Greek Mythology meets fairy tales #AU #The United Realms #romantic #family #adventure #dreaming out loud

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