#I mean i tried a court of throne and roses or whatever a couple of times but i couldn't get into it so maybe the author's way of writing

[ultramagicalternate]

ULTRAMagic Interlude Chapter 18

Previous | First | Next

Master Post

“Don’t worry, Dunja, I’ll be right here with you” Englehart reassured as the two stood outside the throne room.

She took a deep breath. “Right… this feels strange…”

“There’s nothing to fear. In fact, I went out of my way to keep your seat in tip top condition.”

“Really? Did you anticipate me coming back?” Dunja received a look that said “yes” in the most blunt way possible. She opened the doors and was overwhelmed with a wave of nostalgia. “You know what? I missed this place.” The two sat down at their thrones, with Dunja letting out a massive sigh of relief.

“Shall we start today’s royal court meeting?”

Dunja paused for a second, then nodded. “Sure.”

Englehart focused for a second and sent a cloud of blue energy from his hand that went over to a device on the far wall. A bell began chiming with a light calmly turning on and off. It was a neat little system that alerted the royal court to when Englehart wanted to conduct a meeting. This had been implemented after Dunja left, in case an emergency had arisen. It was the brainchild of Radovan and Rose and worked fantastically throughout the years. Soon the Duke and Duchess, the councilors, and Blood-Wraith arrived, taking their seats after greetings were conducted.

“Well ain’t this a site for sore eyes; A court meeting with the queen,” Drazhan pointed out.

“Indeed, general,” Radovan agreed. “The past couple of days have been quite the wild turn of events.”

Octavius had a bewildered look on his face. “Honestly I thought the next time we’d see Dunja would be with her and Gratiana storming the tower. I’m glad that didn’t come to pass…”

Dunja laughed. “Octavius, trust me when I say Torunn would have never let that happen… Hey, where’s Barna?”

“Sorry I'm late!” He announced as he entered the room. “I heard the alarm, but I was in the middle of showing Aureolus a welding technique.”

“No worries, brother. We haven’t quite started yet either way” Englehart assured.

“Well before we start, since we have a lot to discuss, I have a question for the king,” Rose stated.

“Go ahead, Rose.”

“In regards to Kresimira and Corentin, will you be presiding over my daughter’s wedding?”

Englehart nodded. “Indeed. This has already been arranged. Given that Corentin will be ready to take the throne if anything should happen to Dunja and I, I figured this warrants my presence, haha.”

Something occurred to Blood-Wraith. “Wait a second, what about Barna? Couldn’t he take over if need be?”

“Two reasons, lad: one, I still don’t have a spouse. Two, I’m a blacksmith and a farrier, not a ruler” he replied.

“Englehart has tried to convince Barna multiple times, son,” Radovan added. 

“On what? Getting married or succeeding the throne?” Drazhan quickly cut in. This made everyone laugh.

While Barna shook his head, Dunja pounded her fist on her arm rest. “OH! Shoot, I forgot about the thing… oh boy…”

“What is it, dear?” Englehart inquired.

“It’s that thing I mentioned at the colosseum yesterday…” She took a deep breath. “Everyone? I did something questionable in Shadowland.”

This caught everyone’s attention. “I don’t mean to be rude, your majesty, but hasn’t that been the case for at least the past decade or so?” Drazhan pointed out.

“Ah…you… well played. Ahem, I mean I did something that Milosh suggested, aside from the whole overthrow The Iron City bit…”

Theobold rubbed his temples. “I can’t wait until we are rid of that heathen…”

“...I created a son of me and Englehart through void magic.” This shocked everybody, with some nearly choking on their spit.

Englehart looked at his wife with wide eyes. “I was not expecting this… I’m going to need a bit of explanation.”

Dunja took another deep breath. “So that rat Milosh, being obsessed with subversion and whatever nonsense ideology he’s peddling this week, proposed that I create an “heir” to ruin Englehart’s reputation…”

“Outsiders…” Barna grunted.

“... Dunja, how did he expect you to go about doing this?” Caius questioned.

Dunja groaned. It was something that made her cringe just thinking about it. “That impotent freak originally wanted me to sleep with him…”

“I take it the rumors are false then? That you slept with Milosh?” Englehart asked, his tone indicating that the subject had been bothering him for some time.

“Do you know how badly I wanted to behead that liar over his claims? In hindsight I should have… Whelp, might as well get this off my chest: The other rumors that I spent a few nights with Andelin and Gratiana are true. I’m not proud of it, but at the same time…” Radovan cleared his throat loudly, pointing to Blood-Wraith who was starting to look nervous. “RIGHT! Too much information…”

Truthfully Englehart was not bothered by this revelation. They were not Milosh and Dunja could not conceive a child with the two women… hopefully. “You mentioned void magic, dear. How did that play into this plot of sorts?”

“My plan B. Despite all of my shenanigans, I did not want my first child to be with anyone but you… I’m aware of the irony in hindsight. I still felt loyalty to The Iron City deep in my heart… So I cast a spell that called on the potential for us to bear a child. What appeared was a young man named Albrecht Schindewolf.”

Everyone appeared to be deep in thought over this. Englehart could feel his heart ache a tiny bit. “What happened to the boy?”

“I quickly realized that I couldn’t use him in Milosh’s braindead scheme. He was too pure and even I knew that was too cruel. Before he had become fully cosignant, I gave him the pseudonym of Allan Erkstrom and left him with Torunn. Furthermore, I implanted false memories that he was an orphan drop off. And since this was after Torunn had left us, Milosh naturally tried to reprimand me… I responded in kind by threatening to execute him and ordered him to drop the plan all together.”

While everyone was relieved, Barna had a feeling of familiarity. “Wait, hold up a second! You don’t mean our Allan, do you?”

“Yup.”

“Huh… jeez, I always wondered why he looked and sounded like a Schindewolf…”

Englehart was still a bit worried. “I presume he’s doing well, brother?”

“Oh absolutely, the lad’s doing fine. Claudius has praised his hard work and I’d say he’s got a knack for leadership.”

“Then we shall make that another priority for your upcoming mission. Dunja, can you bring our son home?”

“Absolutely. He’ll be here safe and sound.”

Something about this was not sitting right with Regnault. “That’s all well and good, but Dunja; You’re implying he may have formed an attachment to Torunn. How do you plan to deal with that?” It was a valid point and Theobold nodded in agreement.

Dunja thought for a moment. “Well, I did consider dissolving the Blades and reforming them, with Torunn being one of the new members.”

Blood-Wraith was intrigued. “Does that mean they’ll work with us?”

“I have no idea, Blood,” Dunja answered as she slouched on her throne. “Torunn? Probably. Andelin? Hard maybe. Gratiana? I have no idea. She stuck with me back in Shadowland, but she was also the most proud and most likely did that because she could not stand Milosh.”

Octavius looked around at the others. “Well I trust you and Barna will figure out the best course of action for this predicament. If you’ll pardon my judgment, I’d dare say this subject has run its course for now. There are a bunch of potential decrees we still need to discuss…”

“Right you are, councilor” Englehart confirmed. “We’ll have to put a pin in the Shadowland discussion for now…” Rose handed him several papers that he then handed to Dunja. “Now my dear, would you like to do the honors?”

She felt a little embarrassed. “Aw shucks, let’s see then…” Dunja looked through the documents as she sat upright. “Now what’s this about a Trench Unlight?”

“Ah yes, Thora and I discovered the old research of Deimos and established communication with a team tasked with exploring this new realm” Rose replied.

“Uncle Deimos is looking for new people to explore the Abyssal Unlight since the old crew has been at it for too long” Blood-Wraith added.

“Alright then, I’d say this is a go,” Dunja decided.

“Abyssal Unlight expedition volunteers is now pending” Radovan stated. “The council shall now vote. All for? Any opposed…? Decree passes 5-0 vote.” He then stamped a paper on his table.

“Hey, wait! Can I vote on the next one?” Blood-Wraith asked.

“I… don’t see why not. Your majesty?” Octavius responded.

“Since most of the current matters are straightforward, I’m fine with it. Radovan? Rose?” They both nodded.

Blood-Wraith looked very excited. “Alright, so what’s next?”

Drazhan cleared his throat and crossed his fingers. “I’d like to bring up our resource concerns. We’re not running out, far from it… but the great hunt did cut into our supplies. I don’t want to go anywhere near The Roaring Mountains and it feels wildly inappropriate to go pester our newfound woodland neighbors. What I’m thinking of is Deadman’s Pass, on the way to Shadowland. There’s a whole bunch of resources on our side… that were seized by Milosh. I was just thinking since we have the queen back under our wings…” It was abundantly obvious what he was indicating.

“Um, yeah… forgot about that. By all means, have at it… I just need to get rid of the spell I put on the area to protect it” Dunja replied.

“Well that’s no problem as we can take care of it on the way to Shadowland” Barna pointed out.

“Alright then, Deadman’s Pass resource acquisition is now pending” Radovan stated once again. “The Council shall now vote. All for? Any opposed…? Decree passes 6-0 vote.” The paper was stamped once again.

The rest of the meeting went smoothly from that point on. The majority of the issues were things that needed to be tackled because of the Great Hunt. All of it was fairly uneventful, but Blood-Wraith did not care. He was just happy to see Dunja happy. She was legitimately enjoying being back with her friends and family. After the meeting, Dunja and Englehart went for a walk around the city while Radovan and Rose took Blood-Wraith home. They were very proud of him for the discipline he displayed during the meeting.

“Girls? Anyone home?” Radovan called out as they entered the mansion

Dragoslava appeared from the hallway. “Hey dad, hey mom… Blood! Just who I wanted to see. Where were you? I’ve been looking all over for you…”

“He was at his first, proper royal meeting with Dunja today” Rose answered. “We allowed him to vote on the decrees and he did an excellent job.” Blood-Wraith looked really proud.

Dragoslava smiled. “Well then, you become more of a knight as we speak. Blood, would you like a present, a sort of really late birthday gift?”

“A present? What is it?”

“Well come with me and I’ll show you…”

“Since you’re doing that, I’ll go get the kitchen ready” Rose said as she began walking in that direction. “Honey, could you go fetch Kresimira, Corentin, Valentina, Vexation, and Aureolus?” She asked Radovan.

“Certainly. Should I also invite Barna and Corentin?”

“That would be lovely. Drago, is Desislav here at the moment?”

She nodded. “Yup, I’ll send him to the kitchen when we’re done…” Dragoslava called out as she led Blood-Wraith down the hall.

Dragoslava’s room was quite spacious, but this was primarily because she had been clearing it out. Either way, it was quite big and cozy. Her desk was on one side while her bed was on the opposite. Blood-Wraith liked it alot as it felt very welcoming. It definitely needed some decorating, however. At the far end near the window was Desislav, standing next to some boxes. He was looking a lot better than he did a week prior.

“Hey, Blood! Have we got a surprise for you…” he announced as he pushed a box over.

“Ooh, what is it, what is it?”

Dragoslava opened it up and revealed it was full of action figures. “Here you go, my old toys, just for you…” She could see his eyes light up, which made her feel warm and happy.

“Oh cool!” Blood-Wraith exclaimed as he picked up the golden action figure and began messing around with it. “Thank you, sister! Are you sure you want me to though?”

“Yes. Trust me, Blood, they’re just going to sit around collecting dust… plus I need the room. I figured you and Aureolus can have fun with them.”

Desislav chuckled. “Also it’d be a little strange for a grown couple to have a bunch of kid’s toys laying around.”

“Ha, I see… Hey, what about that dragon toy?” Blood-Wraith asked, pointing to a shelf.

“Ah, him… that one I’m going to hang onto, Blood,” Dragoslava answered. “He’s a bit special.”

Blood-Wraith realized why this was the case. “Oh… here, let me do something real quickly…” He got up, went to the toy, and waved his hand in front of it. A shadowy dragon figure made of metal appeared around it in a flurry of sparks. It was like it had always been a part of the action figure. “There we go!”

Dragoslava and Desislav were amazed by this transmutation. Dragoslava then went to inspect it. “Incredible… Blood, since when did you get this good? Also jeez, pull at my heartstrings much? Haha.”

Blood-Wraith chuckled. “No idea, it just came to me.”

Next: Chapter 19

ULTRAMagic Alternate © 2022 William Ford II (ChaoticTempleKnight)

#chaotictempleknight #ultramagic alternate #fantasy #sciencefiction #sciencefictionfantasy #literature #fiction #writing #writers on tumblr #story #chapter

[nessaiscute]

A high school confession

AN: This is an experiment might make a bigger thing bout of this also its time for some fluff

“Try not to embarrass yourself.” Stated Mab as I left the Castle.

Same old bs, never a ‘good luck’, or, ‘do your best.’ Always about the kingdom and my eventual inheritance, I will rule the Ice court, I will make descions that will affect millions of people. Knights will depend on me, servants will want guidance. Other courts will want to challenge me. Seems…. A lot for someone like me. A teenage fairy, but it is the life I have to lead once i graduate. But thats not till a long time down the road at least a year. 

I got on the carriage and we went to the human world, to the high school I attend.

 The carriage pulled up to Fallbrook high school, not too bad of a school. I mean we have our bully issues and teachers don’t really care but we don’t have to worry about Gangs. The leaders of the nevenever make sure of that. It's a red brick building with a flagpole in the middle.When I got out of the carriage, I was greeted by a red haired boy. A summer fairy but a treasured one.

“Hey ice boy. Have you seen the princess?”

My nerves were instantly shot, “Do you not know where she is?”

“I… I saw her at breakfast but then i heard a welp and she vanished.”

Son of a bitch!!

I bolted straight into the building, people moving out of my way as I bulldoze into hall, Puck going after me.

“Ice boy! Slow down! You don’t know if shes in trouble!”

But I did, i knew exactly what happened. I knew that she was hurting her. I swer this time I’ll kill that freak!

My heart was beating faster then I thought it ever could, why am I reacting this way? Its not like this is the first time its happened. But I could barely keep track of her glamour, It was getting weaker and weaker. Gods no, please if there is any beings of higher power out there protect her. Please protect her…

Sure enough As i turned to the gym, a Black teeanger had blonde teenager in a choke hold. The blonde teeanger had tears forming in her eyes, my rage erupting like a volcano. My ice glamour exploded freezing everything around The black teeanger, she stepped on ice and fell on her butt letting the blonde go.

“Meghan!” I shouted and rushed towards her.

Meghan fell to the ground and I caught her, i scooped up her fragile body in my arms.

“Meghan! Talk to me!”

I heard a growl from behind me and Puck sheriked as I felt a fist lunge at me.

I tanked the blow,  everyone told me stories bout Tyras monster strength. Gangers won’t mess with her cause of how scary she is. But she didn’t impress me, her punch hurt but it was nothing I haven’t handled before. I shot an ice spike to get her to jump in the air. Tyra landed gracecfully on the ground.

“I’ve had enough of you getting in my way of beating retard!” Tyra snarled.

I told Puck to come over he did, I handed him Meghan and told the two to get out of here. They left. But by this point a crowd had gathered.

“Tyras gonna fight the ice prince!” Said a student.

“No, Tyras gona destory the ice prince. No one can handle Tyra.” Said a teacher.

Tyra cracked her knuckles grinning, “I’ve been looking forward to this, youre hot but youre too nice. Im going to fix that.”

“Is that right?” I smirked.

I slowly walked around, in a slow mocking matter. Bending my knee, her brown eyes glaring at me. People asked what I was doing, I walked around her slowly. Finally she shouted and lunged

I blocked her punch and pushed her off me, I did not strike her. She got ready for another punch, and she went through with her attack, this time she missed. I leaned out of the way, Tyra tried to bear hug me but I slide under her. 

“FIGHT ME!!” Tyra roared.

Suddenly an ice blast froze Tyra solid, I looked around and there was the principle. He glared at me.

“Mr. Johnson?” I asked surprised.

“What happened young man!” Mr. Johnson snapped.

“Tyra attacked Meghan Chase sir,”I replied, “I was defending my friend.”

Mr Johnson was trained by my mom to use Ice glamour, he takes no crap from any of the students and hes very strict. He puffed and singled for a cop.

“Take Miss Tyra away she will be expelled if Ash is…”

Suddenly Mr. Johnson’s phone rang, it was the nurse.

“What is it miss bells?”

“What? Miss Chase is unconscious?”

Everyone gulped.

“Everyone get to class! NOW!”

We all scattered.

I went straight to home room, I was sure I was going to get jumped Tyra was very popular. I know people were going to be pissed. In fact I got sneers and glares as I walked through the halls. I expected someone to try and deck me.

But I was greeted by Puck, who looked sad.

“Hey, how is she?”

“She won’t wake up ice boy. They called in an ambulance.”

Darn it!

I patted Pucks shoulder, “She’s been through hell before, she’ll get out again.”

Puck touched my hand and smiled at me, “Youre right.”

We both sat down, and class started. It seemed like nothing changed, Meghan was gone but no one seemed to care. Meghan was a huge part of all of our classes too. The teacher didn’t seem to notice that no one was answering questions besides me. Its normally me and Meghan.

“The left index.” I answered.

“Very good Ash.” The teacher replied.

A student laughed, “Man, I can’t believe that rere was holding Ash back.”

Bile rose in my throat, Meghan has had mental illnesses for as long as I remember. Its been the number one reason for her being bullied.

“Meghan wasn’t holding back anything I-”

“Rere!” The student snapped, “Gods how long have you been here? Learn the terminology fairy!”

“Meghan is not a ‘rere’ or whatever you call her. She's just as important to this class as I am.”

“Ugh, what is she? your girlfriend or something??” The student yelled

Everyone gasped like he just dropped an F bomb.

The teacher jumped in, “Anthony leave Ash alone. Theres no way he would date Miss chase. Now lets get back to the lesson.”

The class went on without a hitch though that accusation never left my mind.

What is she? Your girlfriend or something?

Did I see Meghan like that? She's been my friend for as long as I remember. She's my best friend. I feel content when shes around, when we’re cuddling and I can feel her heartbeat. When we’re watching a movie, when I’m fighting off bullies for her. I even defied my mom to be her friend, it was the one argument I ever won against my mom. Even as a king I will never abandon Meghan, I’ll run away from the throne if I have to I-

Oh. I am in love with her.

The class ended and I was called to the nurse’s office. I power walked there, my heart racing as I opened the door…

“You’re late.” Greeted Meghan.

The smile ran across my face before I realized it, “It took forever to get out of class.”

She opened her arms and I took her in mine.

“When Tyra grabbed me that time….I thought it was over.” She sobbed.

“I took care of it. Shes expelled.”

“Isn’t that only going to make things worse?” Meghan asked.

“Nope.” The nurse shook her head, “The students have gotten a clear warning. Anything happens to you over her jail will be next. Now, I have lunch to grab, you two stay here.”

The nurse left and it was just me and Meghan, my heart going into over drive. I wanted to tell Meghan how I felt. That I’m in love with her, I sat down next to her.

“Did you sleep well last night?” Meghan asked.

I nodded.

“Are you okay?”

“I… I need to tell you something.”

Now or Never.

“What is it?”

I took a deep breathe gathering my thoughts, It was time to face this.

“I love you.”

The words didn’t register right away, she just said, “huh?”

“I really love you.” I repeated.

Meghan gasped, her eyes smacked with shock. Did I make a mistake?

She looked down, my heart was bout to fall into the depths of hell when she said, “Um…. Can you give me some time to think Ash? After school, meet me at the front gate. I’ll see you then.”

Meghan then ran away and I just went to class.

“Man youre lame.” Puck stated.

“Shut up Summer shit.” I snarled.

“Seriously that was the best you could come up with? Although I’m honestly shocked this didn’t happen sooner.”

“Whats that suppose to mean?” I asked.

“Ive known you both for bout 5 years and from the moment I met you… Ive had to deal with the soft stares and cuddling and couple fights. I remember when Tyra first started bullying her, and she cried that no one was going to care if she died. And You got really mad at her and you both started yelling until you screamed ‘if you died I’d rip out her heart myself’ and you both stared at each other mouths agape till I had to bring up the newest book coming out.”

Puck was right, although it was embarrassing to hear him bring up the past.

“So, were you joking?”

I swatted at him, “Of course I wasn’t!”

Puck Patted my head, “Good luck lover boy!” 

He ran away before I could kill him.

I went to the front gate and Meghan was waiting for me.

“Hello Ash.” Meghan Greeted.

“Hey, Um, can I have your answer?”

My whole life hangs on this.

Meghan smiled softly, “I… was so happy when you told me. Thank you. But here is the thing…. I can’t believe you actually said it. and...I’m wondering if you made a bet with Michael. To see if it would be funny…. So i have to ask… were you joking?”

Tears were forming in her eyes when she asked if I was joking, what exactly do people take me for.

“No i meant it.”

“You… do know im not normal right??” Meghan asked shocked, “I’m not pretty like the other girls. I like dumb things and I can barely do anything right. And then there is the fact I'm on adhd medication. People will always judge me for that, I just doze off and I get mad quite easily; I annoy people very easily…. One of my favorite thing bout you is how patient you are with me. If…. we start dating that patience will be tested to its limit. You’ll have to deal with that stuff all the time. I… don’t want to be a pest to you.”

This foolish…

“You aren’t a pest Meghan!”

Meghan gasped and i kept going.

“Hell I love you doing those things, do them all the time. I don’t get those anime cartoons you watch nor do I understand shipping and all of that but I want to be with you every step of the way. As for your mental illness I love you, all of you, especially those parts. There's nothing you could do to make me lose my patience in you. Hell, I don't even consider it a test of patience. Being with you is a choice I make. I make it every day, and I’ll keep making it till the end of time.”

“Ash….” Meghan gasped, “Has anyone ever told you… that you're dangerous to a woman's heart.” her face was flushed.

“Do love me Meghan? Cause I can’t stand the thought of not being with you. I can do anything but losing you would destroy me.”

“Yes. I love you, Ash Please be my boyfriend.”

I walked towards her, took her face in my hands and kissed her. She coiled her arms around me and I crushed her to me. She was mine, Nothing will ever change that.

#fall fey #I randomly got inspired by rune factory #Meghan Chase #Ash Chase #high school au #should i expand on this #or does it suck?

[amuseoffyre]

Crossing Paths - 994BC - Jerusalem

Notes: Yet another Bibbley story and as usual, playing a bit fast and loose with the precise dates, since no one is 100% sure of exactly when it allegedly all happened.

994BC – Jerusalem

 “Who’s this clown?”

Aziraphale jumped, startled. “Oh! Crawly!”

The demon gave him a curt nod, then jerked his head towards the throne on the far side of the crowded throne room. “What happened to Saul?”

“Ah…” Aziraphale winced. By Heaven’s standards, it had all been a rather embarrassing affair, but no one wanted to point out that the Almighty was the one behind all the policy decision. “Yes. Well… it… there was… well…”

“Hold on.” The demon squinted. “It’s the bloody harp player! That boy they brought in!”

Aziraphale blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

Crawly waved a hand emphatically at the man on the throne. “Him!” He snapped his fingers impatiently. “Oh… whatsisface… the one that got all cosy with Saul’s boy! You know! Slingshot boy!”

“You…knew David?”

“Knew him?” Crawly shook his head. “Nah. Heard him play a few times.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened in horror. “You were the evil spirit sent to torment Saul?”

Crawly beamed at him. “Yeah! Must’ve done a good job of it if you heard about it.” He sniffed thoughtfully, then looked back at his throne. “Didn’t Saul have kids? How did lambchop over there end up stealing the shiny chair?”

Aziraphale cleared his throat self-consciously. “He’s… God’s anointed.”

“God’s anointed,”  Crawly echoed dryly. “You mean, just like Saul was God’s anointed, right up until he wasn’t?”

Aziraphale bristled. It was true, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. “You know Saul disobeyed the Almighty’s will.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Crawly circled around behind him, peering at the gathered crowd. “Had a barbecue too early, didn’t he?”

“Sacrifice!” Aziraphale protested indignantly.

Crawly made a face, wrinkling his nose. “Six and half a dozen, really. Dead beastie, toasted and, oh look, the Priests have a nice grilled steak for dinner.”

“That’s not– it’s a religious–” Aziraphale threw his hands up with a huff. “What are you even doing here?”

“Apart from annoying you?” The demon grinned. “Heard about the fuss out west. Thought I’d pop by to catch up on all the news. Give or take a couple of years of wandering east. D’you know they’ve made a wine from rice? S’bloody good stuff too.”

“A couple of–” Aziraphale shook his head with a sigh. “He’s been on the throne for years now. It’s hardly news.”

“Eh. What’s a dozen years and more between friends?” Crawly shrugged. “Wonder if he still plays.”

At that, a small smile crossed the angel’s lips. “I’ve heard he does. They say if you sit on the rooftops in the evening, you will hear his music across the city.”

“S’that so?” Crawly rocked on the balls of his feet. “Might need to stick around.” He flashed a grin at the angel. “Fancy a drink this evening?”

“I shouldn’t–” Aziraphale began, though it was awfully tempting after so long without company.

“Me either,” Crawly replied, leaning closer conspiratorially. “Gonna do it anyway.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips. “You are a terrible influence.”

Crawly snorted. “Obviously. Is that a yes?”

“Oh,” Aziraphale sighed with not entirely feigned reluctance. “I suppose I must. I’ll be at the synagogue shortly after sunset. I have some things to attend to before then.”

“Right-o.” Crawly gave him one of the stiff, formal bows of the locals and backed away out the nearest doorway.

“Idiot,” Aziraphale muttered ruefully, though whether he was talking about himself or the demon, he couldn’t be sure. He turned his attention back to the King’s court and the reports coming in from the siege of Rabbat Ammon.

By the time evening fell and all his duties were done, a pleasant calm had settled over the city. It was a warm evening and Aziraphale sat on the wall beside the synagogue gates, watching the sky turn from shades of blue to purple then red and gold.

The first stars were out when Crawly finally appeared, sandals slapping against the ground, a panicked look on his face.

“ Crawly?” Aziraphale rose at once. “Whatever’s the matter?”

Crawly held up his forefingers, panting hard. “First–” He doubled over, taking a deep breath, then straightened up. “Right. First off, wasn’t my fault. Total accident. No idea it was going to happen. Second… er… how happy was…” He waved Heavenwards. “I mean, Their first anointed was sent the way of the dodo. This one – good, bad, indifferent?”

Aziraphale’s heart sank. “What did you do?”

“Now, in my defence,” Crawly said, waving his finger. “I absolutely didn’t do anything.”

“ Crawly.”

“I’m just making it clear I wasn’t there with any instructions or–”

“ Crawly!” Aziraphale snapped. “What the Hell have you done this time?”

“I just wanted to listen to him playing!” The demon wailed. “How was I meant to know there would be some daft baggage having a bath on the roof next door?”

Aziraphale made a small, faint sound, remembering the occasion when Crawly had mentioned cows to the wandering Israelites below Sinai. “What exactly happened?” he demanded.

“He remembered me,” Crawly said, twisting his hands in his tunic. “I mean, he remembered scaring me off with his music. So he was playing and stuff and I was listening and then I noticed someone moving about on the roof and he came over to see what I was looking at.”

“Oh no…”

“Hey! I didn’t make him ogle her!” Crawly snapped. “Not my fault she had her…” He waved vaguely to his chest. “She should know better than to get her kit off when her building isn’t the highest one in the bloody city!”

Aziraphale sat back down on the wall, feeling rather queasy. “It– it might not be all bad,” he said with weak optimism. “I mean, a King needs wives, doesn’t he? Maybe it… perhaps it was the divine plan for him to see her?”

Crawly winced. “Ah. Yeah. About that…”

Aziraphale stared at him. “What?”

“She’smarried.”

“She’s…” Aziraphale swayed back on the wall. “Oh dear Lord…” He clasped his hands together, trying to think. “Well, if I head up there now, I can try and undo this mess…” He trailed off at the look on Crawly’s face. “…how much worse does this get?”

The demon fidgeted. “Um. Well. When I left… um… he was….” He cleared his throat. “Let’s just say he was… getting to know her. Very enthusiastically.”

“He literally saw her an hour ago!” Aziraphale wailed. “He’s a good and honourable King! What the Hell did you do to make him do… that?”

“Not me!” Crawly yelled back at him. “Absolutely not me! His Royal Perviness and little miss Peep-show did it all by themselves!”

“But he’s– he was anointed!”

“So was Saul! Didn’t stop him lobbing a spear at your boy’s head, did it?”

“You tempted him into that!”

Crawly looked momentarily abashed. “Yeah, but it was funny at the time! Bet you wish it’d hit him now!”

Aziraphale got up, walking back and forth as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts. “This is a disaster! The King, God’s chosen, a common adulterer?”

“Free will, angel,” Crawly said, tugging on the end of his belt. “S’what they do.”

Aziraphale nodded unhappily. “I… I suppose I could convince him to pretend it never happened, couldn’t I?”

“Worth a try,” the demon said, “unless… you know…” He drew a curve in front of his belly, then laughed dismissively. “But what are the chances?”

“Right. Yes.” Aziraphale nodded. “That’s what we’ll do. Tell him to make the necessary sacrifices and seek the Almighty’s forgiveness for this… momentary lapse in judgement.” He forced a bright, brittle smile. “Everything will be fine.”

  Several months later

The clay cup tapped on the wall beside the angel.

He looked down at it, then up at the person who had delivered it.

“Thought you might need that,” Crawly said, sitting down on the wall by him.

The night was cool, the stars sparkling across the sky, and the city was quiet.

Aziraphale picked up the cup and drained it, then held it out mutely. Crawly refilled it.

“Didn’t see that coming,” the demon said quietly.

“Mm.” Aziraphale gulped down the second cup. “My suggestion didn’t… go as planned. He – the husband – he was meant to come back and be with his wife and everyone would… assume it was his and everything would be…”

“Fine?” Crawly prompted.

The angel flashed a glare at him. “This isn’t amusing.”

“I’m not laughing,” Crawly pointed out. “You didn’t make any… other suggestions, did you?”

The angel shook his head. “I thought it would be enough.” He looked in the direction of the house of Uriah the Hittite. The wails and lamentations were still ringing from the new widow and her household. “I wanted to believe it was a coincidence.”

“I bet.” Crawly nudged him. “You sure he was behind it?”

“Oh, yes.” Aziraphale’s face twitched in a bitter impersonation of a smile. “I double-checked with…” He pointed upwards. “Apparently it’s…” – he exhaled shakily – “all part of the plan.”

Crawly hissed through his teeth. “Course it bloody is.” He leaned over and filled Aziraphale’s cup again. “How much time do you have?”

The angel shrugged. “Why?”

“Because we’re going to get you properly and utterly drunk.”

Aziraphale did manage a smile at that. “Perhaps,” he said, with considerably less reluctance. “Just this once.”

#fic: crossing paths #good omens fic #crowley #aziraphale #good omens

[snellyboi]

Uneasy Lies the Head that Wears the Crown

The world has been changing for Glimmer.

words:1848 Summary: A day in the life of Glimmer, queen of Bright Moon Warnings: I don’t wanna start any shipping wars, but I do a lot of Glimmadora stuff, so be warned. (If you stan Catradora, I have something interesting coming up soon)

 Also dumb 80s names for some OCs because c’mon, if we can have castaspella, we can have some dumb names. 

Glimmer groaned and gently rose out of bed. She got on her royal garments, took her scepter, and walked heavily to the throne room. No time for breakfast this morning. There were important things to discuss. Of course, not just about the war. But that was definitely the thing on everyone’s mind. Especially after last night. 

“They...they were everywhere!” Perfuma was speaking through tears, openly sobbing into Mermista’s shoulder at the war table. Glimmer furrowed her brow.

“What were they in Plumeria for?”

“I have no clue...someone mentioned a monastery of some kind?”

“We need to strike them back!” Frosta said, slamming the table. “I say we find every horde soldier we can and SMASH ‘em!”

“Frosta, we need to address this more delica-” Glimmer stopped. She sounded just like her mother. “...we need to approach this with caution. If they found what they needed, it might have been something important for us. We have to be able to get it back, whatever it was.” 

“True.” Mermista said, supportively and warmly patting Perfuma’s back. “It’s okay, bud...you’re safe.” 

Plumeria had been invaded by the Horde. 

Granted, it was a very small portion, around the edge of its border, actually, but it was still a notable event. It proved that they were regrouped enough to mount such an attack, and so deep into Rebel territory? But such a specific location...they had to be searching for something. 

“We’ll look into it further, Perfuma, I promise.” Perfuma nodded, sniffling. 

“Thank you.”

“Now, onto the next order of business.” She said. “Namely, the problem with troops, or the lack thereof.” She heaved a sigh. “We’re running a tad low on personnel, even for Rebellion standards.” 

“Well what’re we supposed to do?” Mermista asked, “Get a bunch of people to wanna do it or something?”

“Well, a recruitment effort here and there would be nice.” Glimmer said. “It’s just that...we’re gonna need a lot more resources if the Horde is regrouping so quickly.” “Oh! We could make fancy posters and things!” Adora said. “Back at the horde, we had these neat poster things that said ‘enlist’ and ‘obey’ and stuff.” 

“We just need to get people interested. This isn’t the old rebellion, it’s a lot stronger.” Frosta said. “At least...i think it is. Was the old one not great?”

“There’s a new one for a reason, y’know.” Mermista rolled her eyes and sighed. 

“Hey, you don’t have to be mean about it!”

“I wasn’t being mean!” 

“You two,” Perfuma said, “Stop fighting!” 

“I don’t need to sto-”

“That’s ENOUGH!” Glimmer said, losing her temper. A group of gawking faces looked at her. She heaved in a breath. “...Adora.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll be in charge of recruitment...if people will fight for anything, they’ll fight for the She-Ra.” She said. “That’s significant. Especially since you’re on our side.”

The rest of the princesses looked. “If more people knew that you were here, Adora,” Perfuma smiled, “They’d be more willing to fight for the rebellion.”

“...I mean, I can’t, like, Draw? But I can go around and do...speeches or something.”

“Great!” Glimmer tried to move things along. “Then it’s settled. So...other than that, and the battle reports covered earlier, we’re good for today. You all have safe travels, and don’t hesitate to let me know of any issues.” Glimmer got up, and walked silently back to the throne room. Adora followed her. 

“Heh, got ‘em pretty scared with that shouting, huh? In all seriousness, are you alri-”

“Adora, I-” She sighed. “I have a meeting that I’m late for. I need to go. I’ll catch you later, okay?” She smiled warmly up at Adora, hugged her swiftly and tightly, and walked into the throne room. 

Adora stared at the closing doors. “...sure.” -

“My queen, the coffers are luckily full enough to launch another building program.” A meeting with her financial advisor, Finara, and her political advisor, Legista, were all there, fronting ideas. “May I suggest a new building for the castle’s staff? The current one is rather old.”

“We could build them another building, yeah...why don’t we have someone draw up some plans? Make it nice, too.” She smiled. 

“And what of the new tariffs?” Legista asked. “Surely the people of Salineas will find another source for gold Silk?”

“Mermista has already agreed to it, and it’s such a specialty item that the people who need it will pay anything for it. The tariff stays. We need that money.” Glimmer hated this part of the job. Lofty, big decisions. She missed the action, and the romance of the soldier’s life. She missed adventures with Seahawk, and hanging out with Bow, and she especially missed hugging Adora and cuddling her for hours, running her hands through her long, blonde hair as she-...she shook her head. 

“Anything else?”

“Nothing comes to mind, your majesty.” The advisors left...she now had her open court. Citizens could voice concerns at their will. It took ages sometimes, but this was mostly just ‘we welcome the new queen’ stuff. Then one couple came in. 

“We want your majesty’s blessing for our marriage!” 

“Pardon?”

“Your blessing!” The woman looked up. “I love him dearly, but his father doesn’t want him marrying someone from my family, so-”

“I…” The queens blessing was for, usually, royalty. She walked down from her throne and placed the scepter on her shoulder. “I bless your marriage.” 

“Hooray!” The girl giggled and kissed her groom to be, and they ran off. Glimmer wanted to marry someone...someone who Angella would have never approved of. She laughed and headed back to her throne. “Next.”

“Hey, Glimmer!”

“I beg your pa-...oh. Hey, Bow.” She waved a little and beamed.

“How’s your day going?” 

“Oh, not so bad...boooooring, but-”

“Court questions are not for friendly visits.” A guard said. Bow put his hands on his hips. 

“Oh, aren’t they now?”

“No, they are not!”

“Well then, I-”

“Guard, stand down. When I’m in charge, they’re also for friendly visits.”

“...yes, your majesty.” The guard stood down. “I apologize.”

“We’re cool, man.” Bow smiled. “Adora and I are gonna go see how fast Swift Wind can fly...wanna come?”

“Of course I d-” She looked around. “...I have a lot going on.”

“Oh. Uhm...sure! We can figure out another time, I think.”

“No, no, if you’re gonna go and do it you go ahead and do it.”

“You sure? We don’t wanna leave you out!”

“I’’ll...I’ll make time for you guys later.” She smiled. “I’ll see you around!” Her smile carried a bit of disappointment and a lot of sadness.

“Alright, bud…” 

-

Adora sighed when she mounted swift wind. “I dunno, it’s just-” She helped Bow up. “She’s got a ton of work to do. Do you think I’ll ever be able to break it to her?’

“Break what to her?” Bow asked. 

“That I have a crush on her.”

“...you two aren’t dating?” 

“I-what? No! She doesn’t even know I like her!” Bow laughed at this. 

“Adora, she weaved flowers into your hair and said you were the most beautiful girl on the planet and you told her you would DIE for her! Is that not...wait…” He just couldn’t He was laughing so hard he started to cry. Adora wasn’t as amused, but...she was finding some humor in it all. 

“And the time I just looked at her and said ‘I wanna kiss you’ and she was just like ‘huh’ and I said ‘I mean I miss you’ and she’d been gone for, like...5 minutes!” The two laughed. Swift Wind spoke. 

“When’s the last time you all hung out?”

“Who, us two?” 

“You and Glimmer.” He said. 

“...a while ago. She’s a busy girl. She’s the queen now.” They were looking over the kingdom, flying close to the Opal. “I miss her a lot.”

Bow nodded. “I miss her too.” He said. “But it’s not like she doesn’t like hanging out.”

“You sure?” Adora asked. “I just feel like a background character to her sometimes nowadays.” 

“I saw her earlier, and she looked...upset she couldn’t come around.”

“I guess you’re right.” Adora smirked. “I have an idea. Swift wind, we’re moving the speed test to tomorrow.”

“You can’t be serious! I trained!”

“Did you, really?” Bow scoffed. 

“Well, no, but-....still. It’s the principle of it all!” Adora laughed and patted his neck. 

“Easy, bud.”

-

Glimmer sighed and laid in her bed, screaming into a pillow. “RrrrrrAAAAGH!” She threw it across the room. She looked out her window and leaned her head on the side of it. “I wonder if I’ll be able to go out when it’s bright again?” She thought aloud. She was growing more and more bleak with each passing day...report after report after meeting after meeting, no stopping, break for a meal, then go right back, then sleep. No time to talk to the princesses, or go on missions, or laugh with Bow, or-

No time for Adora. Only at meetings. Only at meals. 

It was straining her. She heard her door open. 

“Do NOT disturb the-”

“Glimmer?” 

“Adora!” She teleported to her, and then teleporter her back to her bed. She yawned. “I’m sorry, I just...I’m so tired.”

“You’re okay.” Adora held her hand. “Hey, so...I wanted to talk about us for a minute.”

Glimmer was beet red, and if she was tired before, her heart was waking her up now. “Go ahead.” 

“Well, I was just wondering,” She said, “We’re awfully close, and...I’m starting to feel the same way about you as I used to for Catra a while ago.” She added. “It’s this warm feeling. It’s nice. It feels all...fuzzy.”

“It’s Love, Adora.” Glimmer got closer to her. “I feel it for you, too.” 

“So are we…”

“Lovers? If you wanna be.” Adora got closer. 

“I’d Like that.” Adora said...she closed her eyes. 

“MY QUEEN! A MAN HAS ARRIVED AND SAYS HE HAS REPORTS ON THE...invasion...of-”

“...tell him to wait.” Adora said. 

“This is a matter of utmost importance, I assure you, he-”

“Put him in a room and get him some rest.” Adora stood. “Is that clear?”

“I take orders from the queen.” 

“You do. And you will take orders from my LOVER as well!” Glimmer barked. 

“...yes, your majesty.” Angella was gone. Glimmer could be loud when she wanted to be. 

The guard scurried off. “Where were we?” Glimmer asked. 

“You get kinda frightening when you’re upset.” 

“We were about to kiss, alright? He interrupted us!” She laughed. 

“Yeah...hope you’re not like that with them all the time.” Adora said. “Gotta be a bad relationship if that’s the case.”

Glimmer laughed. “I’m not like that all the time! Just...today’s been rough, i wish I could just relax for a bi-”

A pair of lips pressed up against Glimmer’s. 

“...that’s a kiss, right?”

“A perfect one,” Glimmer said. “Well, almost.” She was blushing quite a bit, but...tried to stay confident. “Want another? Just...for practice?”

#she ra #spop #glimmadora #glimmer #adora

[jovialyouthmusic]

Charlotte’s Choice

A Royal Romance AU fanfic

19 The Spider

Neville smarts from his humiliation, and Constantine takes stock of things. 

@ao719 @agent-bossypants @andy-loves-corgis @sleepwalkingelite@boneandfur @blackcatkita @brightpinkpeppercorn @choicescommunity@darley1101 @drakewalkerrosenberg @debramcg1106 @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @goirishsunshine @gardeningourmet @katurrade @livingthroughchoices@likethetailofacomet @mrs-nazario @mind-reader1 @ooo-barff-ooo@silviasutton1989 @speedyoperarascalparty @zaffrenotes @missevabean@mrsdrakewalkerblog @cora-nova @missameliep @tanelle83 @endlessly-searching-for-you @jlouise88 @drakenazario @annekebbphotography@tabithacarlisle @furiousherringoperatortoad @notoriouscs @classylady1234@wickedgypsymoon @carabeth @choices-fangirl @indiana-jr @indiacater

Please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged. For those of you that are busy writing, or don’t have time - you know where to find my Masterlist xx

19 The Spider

Charlotte was correct that her father would not insist on paperwork that night, as she had to take over the reins of power on his behalf as the reign of the Lord of Misrule ended. She had reluctantly left Drake in the maze to fulfil her duty, but she almost floated back to her suite after. Their meeting had been different from any other. She had found sanctuary in his arms and they had admitted their feelings for each other. There was no intimacy, no removal of clothing, no fumbling or frantic consummation. They stayed in the moment, enjoying each other’s company, without any thought of what might follow. There were kisses and embraces and soft touches, they were tender, and they spoke quietly, softly and remembered times gone.

‘Let’s make the most of being alone’ said Drake as they sat on the bench at the centre of the maze, Charlotte nestled into his side, his arm protectively holding her close. ‘Think - who would we be if were just ordinary people instead of being tangled up in this web of Royalty and nobility, with no obligations or ties?’ Charlotte giggled and thought for a while

‘Okay then, I’m… a waitress in a bar - In New York. She started ‘and one day you walk into my bar’ Drake grunted with approval.

‘Okay, and – I’m there with my best friend, and it’s his birthday.  We have a couple of other guys with us’ He nudged the Princess and she continued.

‘You’re only visiting for a couple of days, and you’re out to see the sights. My bar is downtown close to all the clubs, where you plan to go next’ Drake squeezed her tighter

‘You come over to my table to take our order…’

‘Whiskey – the good stuff, you’re pushing out the boat for your friend.’

‘I order four glasses, but there’s only three of us’ Charlotte frowned but Drake went on ‘My friend appears, and you turn to see him. He’s a handsome devil, and charming with it’ Charlotte punched his shoulder.

‘Hey, it’s about you and me, not your friend’ He grinned

‘That’s the best part. He’s charming and handsome, but… you only have eyes for me. He’s pretty pissed but then he sees that I can’t take my eyes off you either and gives us his blessing.’ Charlotte laughed

‘Ordinary you is very modest, I can tell’ she said sarcastically

‘It’s my fantasy persona, I can be whatever I want to be’

‘Okay, we’re supposed to be ordinary, not fantasy figures’ she replied, ‘Otherwise I’d choose to be able to fly, or be invisible’ Drake stroked her cheek.

‘With you by my side, I feel like I can fly – and up till now I’ve been invisible’ he said softly. Charlotte smiled. The day had been one of laughter and friendship – and now, of love.

‘You’re impossible. But all that matters is that we’ve admitted our feelings, and we can move forward and find a way to be together, no matter how difficult it might seem right now’

Meanwhile, Neville smarted from his treatment in the court of Misrule. He wished Walker had hit him – he would most certainly have made him regret it, pressed charges and seen him serve a prison sentence if he could. If only he knew beforehand that it would have barred him from the list of suitors, he would have tried a lot harder to provoke him. The King would soon be announcing that two of the hopeful suitors would be dropped from the official list. After the day’s events he had no doubt that he would be one of them. At last the humiliation ended when the Princess symbolically took back power for the Rys dynasty, and he made his way back inside the Manor. He changed first, ripping off the hated dress with no thought for preserving it, then made his way to the study where the drinks cabinet was well stocked and unlocked for the use of any member of the court or their guests. Anton Severus sat in an easy chair by the window, glass of brandy in hand. Neville grabbed the bottle from the cabinet along with a glass and poured a large measure.

‘An unusual rule this time, don’t you think, Vancoeur?’ Anton asked casually.  Neville knocked back a good mouthful of the liquor before answering.

‘It was a travesty’ he growled ‘That Englishman should be horsewhipped for his impudence. I highly doubt he really is an Earl’ Anton cast him a glance and indicated the chair next to him. Neville picked up the glass and bottle and joined him.

‘Unfortunately his claim to nobility is real’ he replied ‘I’ve looked into it myself. But you’re right, he shouldn’t get away with such disrespect to the nobility – and neither should his accomplice, the Princess’s pet’

‘Princess’s pet?’ questioned Neville

‘Oh yes, hadn’t you noticed the way she looked at Mr Walker today?’ he answered ‘The commoner managed to wheedle his way onto the list, and he should not be allowed to taint the Royal bloodline’ Neville cursed.

‘I came so close to getting him banned’ he spat ‘He was on the point of assaulting me when that upstart Earl stopped him’

‘Keep your voice down, Vancoeur.’ Anton continued. ‘I take it you are not a fan of the Englishman or the commoner Duke?’ Neville frowned

‘They should both be put in their proper place’ he growled

‘I agree. If things go on as they are, one of them is very likely to end up as Consort beside the Princess’ Neville’s face contorted with rage. Anton leaned toward him conspiratorially, his voice low.

‘Perhaps it’s time for the Rys dynasty to come to an end’ Neville’s eyebrows rose in shock.

‘That – that is treason, Lord Severus’ he hissed

‘Not if the claim to the throne is legitimate’ he replied coolly. ‘I am prepared on behalf of House Severus to take what is my rightful place’ Neville sat back in his chair, shocked to the core. They were alone in the study, but Anton still kept his voice low.

‘If I cannot win the hand of the Princess by fair means, I am quite prepared to use other methods’ He steepled his fingers together and fixed Neville with his gaze. ‘Those who support and aid me will be well rewarded with a role in Court befitting their station. No commoner will sully the workings of the Cordonian court, and there will be no counter claim to the throne’ Neville’s mouth open and closed but he was struck dumb for a good few minutes, then he extended his hand to Anton

‘I would be honoured to support you, Lord Severus’ he replied ‘In any way I can and any way you see fit’

The next day was busy for Charlotte yet again. There were more meetings, more diplomats to meet and greet, as Constantine planned to stay in his suite for the day. There was to be another formal dinner, which he planned to attend. At that formal dinner the two suitors who were least likely to succeed were to be announced and would be asked to withdraw from the process.

Charlotte went to the King’s bedroom after breakfast to discuss her options. An aide admitted her, and she entered to find him still dressed in pyjamas and dressing gown, sitting in an easy chair looking out of the window over the gardens. An empty chair was waiting for her, a coffee table nearby with refreshments. Constantine gestured to the coffee pot without turning to look at her.

‘Pour some will you?’ he said distractedly, and dutifully Charlotte went over to oblige. ‘Oh my dear I’m sorry, I thought it was Jeffrey’ he said ‘but perhaps it is fitting for you to serve your father’

‘It’s no trouble Father’ she replied, ‘How are you this morning?’ She examined his features for signs of illness. He did indeed look pale and his face had accrued more lines, possibly from enduring pain or discomfort, or just lack of proper sleep.

‘Weak’ he said ‘but I shall be able to attend tonight’s dinner. Please, sit and report on the happenings at the Apple fair and tell me who you consider should be dropped from the suitors’ list.’ Charlotte poured herself a glass of water and sat.

‘Well Father, as you know, since I last reported to you, I have had both Lord Delacoeur and Tariq assist me with official paperwork, and you saw for yourself what an excellent job Lord Brad and Duke Walker made of the Apple Fair festivities’ The King made a dismissive gesture.

‘It’s hardly doing ‘an excellent job’ by making half of the Royal Court uncomfortable by making them cross dress my dear’ Charlotte gritted her teeth.

‘From a male perspective perhaps’ she replied ‘But a lot of women found the experience liberating, and in my opinion, many of the Court need to be reminded that their station in life is not to be taken for granted. Taking them out of their comfort zone was a good experience, on balance.’ Constantine nodded begrudgingly

‘A valid viewpoint, and I did notice that Lord Bradly wore the cloak and crown very well and conducted himself in an exemplary fashion. However, I do think that choice of the highland kilt as a costume was a significant bending of the cross dressing rule – what had he to learn from it?’

‘You forget Father, he was born a commoner, as was Duke Walker. They already knew what it was to be outside the regard of the Court’ Constantine looked at her sharply

‘Again, a very valid point. I do believe you are living up to the challenge of leadership my dear, just as I had hoped. However, Bastein has informed me that Lord Neville was not happy with the events of the day and lodged an official complaint regarding his treatment in the Court of Misrule’ Charlotte swallowed.

‘It was all within the spirit of Misrule’ she replied ‘Lord Maxwell was happy to comply with the cross dressing and wore exactly the same as Lord Neville’ Constantine put his hand to his forehead, frowning and massaging it.

‘Lord Maxwell is a remarkable young man, though he does not take life very seriously. However, I accept your observation and will not permit Lord Neville to pursue his complaint. Now I must ask for your assessment of Lord Neville and Tariq’s assistance regarding the official papers I gave you’

‘I believe I already reported on Lord Neville’ she replied ‘He was more concerned with matters regarding nobility and gave no regard whatsoever to the needs of the common people. I don’t think he would make a good Consort. Tariq was not at all helpful - he only spoke of trivial matters and didn’t offer to even read the documents I was working on.’ Constantine nodded

‘A fair assessment, you understand very well who might be useful to you and who might not. Do you believe either of them should remain as candidates for Consort?’ Charlotte inwardly cheered, but stayed calm, pausing before answering.

‘No Father, I do not’ Constantine steepled his fingers.

‘If you will my dear, please tell me your opinion of the remainder of the candidates. Rashad and Milo, to begin with.’ Charlotte composed herself again, considering her words before she spoke.

‘I believe Rashad has a good head for business, though I don’t know how he would fare as far as governance is concerned. Lord Milo is exactly the opposite, I believe he has an excellent head for governance, but I don’t know how well versed he is in economics. As far as keeping a good balance between nobility and the common people, I believe both of them favour nobility…’ here Constantine interrupted.

‘The common people? Have I ever indicated to you that that subject is important to your role or that of your Consort?’ Charlotte coloured. A few weeks ago, she would have caved under her Father’s displeasure, but now she felt stronger, more assured.

‘It is something that’s important to me, Father’ she asserted ‘If the people are happy, there is less chance of unrest and dissent. Cordonia is the only remaining absolute Monarchy in Europe, and I feel it might be time to move with the times and give a voice to ordinary people.’ Constantine’s face was impassive.

‘And how do you see yourself achieving that, my dear?’

‘I think that admitting commoners to the Council would be a start’ she replied. She didn’t dare tell him that she wanted to go further and reform Cordonia, plant the seeds for the Monarchy to give over some power to an elected government.

‘And who would decide who those commoners might be? He asked. Charlotte faltered.

‘I - of course it would have to be voted on by the Council’

‘Who are all nobles and will not gladly give over power to those they consider beneath them’

‘Not all are against hearing the voice of the people’ she said, less sure of herself now.

‘Name anyone who is, my dear’ he persisted.

‘I – I’m afraid I can’t’ she admitted, unwilling to name anyone for fear of her Father intimidating them if he wanted to, and having a sketchy idea anyway.

‘Cannot, or will not?’ he answered, then sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead again with his thumb and forefinger ‘Charlotte, you are showing signs of being a passable monarch. You must know the thoughts and wishes of all under you who wield power, so you can stay one step ahead of them. You need advisers and – and spies, for want of a better term. I believe you need schooling in these matters and have some plans in place for that already. In the meantime, I wish to know your opinion of the remainder of the suitors.’ Charlotte steeled herself again.

‘I know you favour Lord Severus due to his ancient lineage’ she started ‘He is charming, but I don’t know his thoughts or abilities beyond archery, sailing and horsemanship, and am interested to see how he will perform when he assists me in the study tonight.’ She paused, but her Father said nothing ‘Lord Maxwell was extremely helpful in the study and took a lot of paperwork off my hands to my surprise, but my fear is that he is too young and carefree to take the role of Consort seriously. Lord Bradley is also charming, and his claim to nobility has been confirmed. He is new to Cordonia, and I have no idea how he will perform in your test.’ Constantine interrupted

‘Remember, dear girl, that Bradley has potential links with the British Monarchy now – which increases his suitability for the role’ Charlotte’s stomach knotted but she smiled and continued.

‘That may be so, Father but Duke Walker is the person I know the best. I know he shares my ideas as to governance and would make a good representative for ordinary people. He knows the country well and is well versed in protocol’ At last Constantine spoke.

‘And how might he perform when it comes to trade, or economics, or diplomacy?’ Charlotte coloured, but before she could answer, her Father continued ‘And what does your heart tell you my dear? Who might you wish to spend your time with if you had no responsibilities?’ Charlotte was almost struck dumb.

‘I - Father, you’ve never asked me that before’ she managed to stammer. He nodded.

‘It is an important factor’ he answered. ‘If your Consort lives up to all my other criteria, but you cannot bear to be in the same room as him, that will be a problem. No matter how you might try to hide it, people will notice. That was the advice I was given by my own father, and I have been lucky. Both your Mother and Regina were dear to my heart, though they did not have the importance to the Monarchy that your Consort will.’ He sighed again and his face clouded.

‘I cannot do more for now my dear, I must rest if I am to make the announcement tonight. I take it that Lord Vancoeur and Tariq are the ones you wish to be dropped from the list of suitors?’ Charlotte nodded, relieved. Constantine reached out his hand to hers and squeezed it. ‘Then think about what I have said. Believe it or not, I will consider what your heart says to you amongst the criteria you are to apply. Go now, and I will see you at dinner’ Charlotte bent to kiss her Father’s hand and left him to rest.

As the Manor was the summer home of the Royal Family, none of the suitors had the right to sit next to Charlotte at the head table, but as Drake had no lands and has spent many summers there, he was awarded the privilege. Lady Olivia sat next to Drake, and of course the King was there. Maxwell and Brad (afforded a higher position by association with Olivia) sat on the next table down with Lady Kiara and Lady Penelope. Maxwell’s brother Bertrand sat with Anton, Lady Caroline and her sister Margaret. Rashad sat at a table with Milo, his sister Madeleine (who apart from Lady Kiara had the dubious reputation of not having slept with Drake) and their mother Adelaide, who kept throwing heated glances at Maxwell, causing him to squirm uncomfortably whenever he noticed. Tariq and Neville sat with the notorious Montpelier twin sisters, and there were ten or so other tables, all taken with notable worthy bastions of the Court and Council of nobles.

Drake sat back looking at the assembled nobles, thinking that nothing had been learned from the previous day. Here were all the stuffy nobles filling their faces with fancy food and expensive wines, oblivious to the needs of ordinary citizens. He was complicit in it all, sitting at the top table with Charlotte – but she was a victim of circumstance. She hadn’t asked to be born into privilege and power and could not easily break out of it. He remembered the little fantasy they had imagined together, of being free and ordinary. How he wished it were true, that they were miles away from this place and able to be together without duty or obligations. He had had the chance of leaving to go to University in the States only a few years ago, but he could not leave her to the mercy of the Court and her Father. She said she was growing up – and he had to do the same, not just go day after day taking the status quo for granted. He had to step up to the mark, be the man she needed.

If he was Consort, he could start to change things, work on laws that benefitted common people, campaign for reform, for ordinary people to be involved in the running of the country. It had happened in neighbouring countries and Cordonia was the last stronghold of an absolute Monarchy. He feared they would have to change, or there would be consequences.

The meal progressed smoothly, and Drake noted that Charlotte made a good effort to include him in the dinner conversation, as his nature was to remain silent and observe. He realised it was in order for him to make a good impression on Constantine. Although he had been included in the list in order to feed the King information on the other suitors, it had been a while since he had been called upon to do so.

The time came for the King’s speech, and he stood, tapping his glass for silence.

‘Lords and Ladies of Cordonia, my daughter and I thank you for your attendance tonight. As you all know, the hand of my daughter in marriage is promised this social season, and the candidates have all made very good efforts to win her affections. But only one person can become Consort, and tonight I must eliminate two contenders.’ He paused and looked around the assembly of people.

‘I must ask all of the suitors to stand’ he commanded, waiting for them all to comply. ‘It is with regret that I have to tell you all that Tariq and Lord Neville Vancoeur will not be taking any further part in the selection process’ Tariq looked downcast, but Neville kept a stoic expression, and there was a short hum of conversation before the King spoke again. ‘It is your choice, gentlemen, as to whether you wish to continue to accompany the Court for the remainder of the Social Season or withdraw. However you will of course be welcome to attend the Coronation Ball when the Queen in Waiting will announce who will rule with her as Prince Consort. You may all sit, gentlemen. Dinner is over, but you are welcome to stay for drinks. I will retire for the night, but Charlotte will answer any questions you may have. That is all, thankyou’ Constantine bowed, and made his apologies to Olivia, drawing Drake aside.

‘I’d like to talk to you in my study, young man. Please tell Lord Bradley that I also wish to talk with him after you. Be there in ten minutes please.’ Drake bowed, his stomach knotting as he turned to find Brad. Together they made their way to the study while Charlotte watched them go with trepidation.

‘What do you think he wants?’ asked Brad

‘I don’t know, maybe it’s about the Lord of Misrule’

‘Then why ask to talk to you first, and not the both of us together?’ mused Brad.

‘Well there’s only one way to find out’ said Drake as they came to the door. Bastien stood guard and nodded to the two men.

‘His Majesty is expecting you, Walker’ he stated.

‘Good luck brother’ said Brad, and grabbed Drake’s elbow, his forearm lined up so Drake in turn grabbed his elbow. Drake looked surprised at the term ‘brother’ but accepted it, his grip firm. With his other hand, Brad slapped him on the back and Drake gave him a grateful glance before he turned to go in.

The King was sitting at his desk.

‘Walker’ he said, gesturing to the seat in front of the desk ‘Please sit. I don’t want to have to crane my neck to talk to you’ Drake sat obediently, waiting for Constantine to speak again. ‘I expect you’re wondering why I called you’ he said

‘Yes your Majesty’ answered Drake nervously. The King shuffled some papers in front of him.

‘You will recall, Walker, that I permitted you access to the list of suitors on the condition that you report to me on any information that might be of interest to me concerning the other suitors’

‘Yes, your Majesty, I…’ Drake was about to give an account of himself, but Constantine raised his hand to silence him.

‘You may also have noticed that I have not called upon you to do so for some time’ he continued. ‘Why do you think that is?’ Drake was nonplussed

‘I’m not sure, your Majesty – perhaps you were satisfied with what your other sources were telling you’ Constantine smiled.

‘So you think I have other sources?’ Drake opened his mouth but again had no chance to speak ‘You are correct of course, in my position I need to know everything about everything’ He sat back but kept his eyes on Drakes. ‘I am not stupid, Walker, I have noticed that you and my daughter share some affection. That is only to be expected as you grew up together. Please, don’t try to deny it. Do not speak.’ Drake felt his face burning red and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

‘I am not a monster, Walker, I do have some affection for my daughter, but she bears a heavy responsibility to her country. She has to find a balance between duty and affection, as did I in my time. You will be surprised that I am not against the idea of Charlotte and you being together – but you must be up to the job of taking care of our country as well. What do you have to say for yourself in that matter?’ Drake steeled himself, knowing that he must make a good impression on the King.

‘Your Majesty, I may not have been born here, but Cordonia is my home and has given me everything I have, and my father gave his life for it. I may lack some knowledge in how to run the country, but I know enough to recognise those who have that capability, and I believe that power should be shared, not piled on to the shoulders of one person, or two, no matter how well trained or capable they may be. You know that life is precarious, and there is the danger of the country collapsing if the one person wielding absolute power should fall. If I was to find myself beside Charlotte, I would find good counsel and share the responsibilities of power.’ Constantine remained stony faced through Drake’s account. He steepled his index fingers together before replying

‘Thankyou Duke Walker, you have made your position clear. You have my approval to continue to court my daughter with the other suitors, and if you should happen to discover anything of significance about any of them, you will come to me and tell me so. Please tell Lord Bradley I will see him now.’ Drake bowed and left the room. Brad raised his eyebrows in question.

‘It’s cool Brad, his Majesty will see you now. I can wait for you if you like’ offered Drake. Brad nodded, looking nervous

‘I’d appreciate that, but if I’m too long, take yourself off and have a stiff whiskey for me’ He straightened his tie and entered the study.

Inside the study, the King waited patiently like a spider waiting to feel the vibrations feeding back to him though the threads of his web.  He regarded the young Englishman with interest. Lady Olivia had been bold to bring him to Cordonia. He had seen the furtive looks she had given the young man and knew what it meant. Brad was a game changer, an interesting new piece on the chessboard of his world. He had so little time to assure the future of his country and the happiness of his daughter, if that were possible.  

‘So, Bradley de Montford, I believe I have to address you as Sir now that your claim has been approved’ he said. ‘What a pity you had not claimed earlier, you might have been able to find favour in the English Court before you came here’ The young man faced him with a cool expression. He had seen this before, noticed how calm he was under pressure, giving nothing away. His bearing was worthy of nobility, he looked the part the moment he appeared at the Masked Ball. He was a natural, born to lead men though he had not had the opportunity.

‘I wasn’t in a position to make a claim, your Majesty. I have Lady Olivia to thank for that’ he replied. ‘She has been very generous’ Constantine kept his expression neutral. Brad was nailing his colours to the mast, expressing his gratitude toward the Nevrakis woman from the start. Perhaps that would be useful rather than a hindrance.

‘I must congratulate you on your handling of the Lord of Misrule’ he said, ‘I was glad I made the right choice’ Brad’s expression flickered

‘The right choice, your Majesty?’ he asked.

‘Yes, I made sure you were the one to win the privilege. You don’t think the Court would vote for a foreigner to have sway over them, do you?’ Now the young man could not mask his surprise. ‘you handled it very well, though I needed the counsel of my daughter to make me realise how very clever it was, ensuring that the Court were ‘taken out of their comfort zone’ as the saying goes. Lord Neville in particular was very much affected, though I fear that was a negative outcome.’

‘I – that wasn’t my intention’ the young man replied, his cool façade cracking under the king’s scrutiny.

‘You are either lying, young man, or you are a natural at getting people just where you want them. Tell me, what was your intention?’

‘I wanted – to shake things up’ Brad replied, trying to regain his composure. ‘I wanted the court not to take their position for granted’

‘And you succeeded. You may not have realised how dangerous that might have been – you are dealing with men who have power, not a bunch of drunken bar patrons.’ The young man swallowed, and Constantine went on.

‘You have great potential, Sir Bradley. If you were not a foreigner, I would be pleased to see you win my daughter’s hand.’ He saw the shock on his face, knew that was not what he was seeking ‘You may still have a role in my country’s future whether you succeed or not. If you choose to leave, I can see you being successful in your own country if you apply yourself.’ He sat back, suddenly tired. ‘Thankyou for coming, Sir Bradley’ he said, ‘You may leave now.’

And the spider became quiet, sitting waiting for the thrumming of another thread…

#drake walker #drake x mc #drake x liam #the royal romance #choices the royal romance #trr #choices trr #trr drake #trr choices #trr fanfic

[elorcanyounot]

Reading lessons- Elide x Lorcan

Elide and Lorcan get steamy for their first time and Manon, Aelin and Aedion are NOT happy!

- throne of glass series- elide x lorcan fanfic - NSFW - fluff, smut and some fun banter with the whole EoS gang -

_______________________________________________________________________

It was their first night since they managed to reach Aelin and her court, and Elide and Lorcan were completely exhausted.

“Elide, did you want to go to bed now?” Lorcan asked softly into Elide Lochan’s ear as she rested in his arms. Lorcan took her droopy eyes and yawn as a yes, and gently helped her stand from the broken column they had been resting against. The pair made their way over to Rowan, who looked worried as always, in search of guidance on where to sleep.

“Rowan,” Lorcan asked, grabbing the Fae’s attention, “is there anywhere we could sleep?”

“Well that depends,” Rowan replied with a smirk, “are you two sleeping together?” Lorcan looked to a sleepy Elide in question, who blushed and gave a sheepish nod.

“Right, well there’s some space in the corner of the temple, but we are pretty tight on bedding so you’ll have to make do.” Loran muttered his thanks and guided Elide to their designated sleeping space. Lorcan set about making pillows out of their spare clothing and lied down, Elide crawling into his arms and resting her head on his chest.

“Lorcan?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I was just wondering if…. Never mind.”

“No whats wrong, let me help you.”

“Well, I was just thinking, maybe, only if you want to, you could possibly teach me how to read tomorrow?” Lorcan felt Elide tense in his arms in nervous anticipation.

“Of course I will Elide, I’m so happy you asked!” Elide let out a relieved sigh and sunk further into Lorcan’s hold. Lorcan kissed her head and began to play with her hair, earning a satisfied purr from the small girl, as the couple drifted off into sleep.

When they awoke in the morning, after triple checking they weren’t needed for any tasks, the duo began to explore the temple in hopes of finding a book to teach Elide with. As luck would have it, they stumbled upon a small library filled with a plethora of ancient texts. Despite the room having seen better days, it was still fully functional, with a worn couch to rest upon and all. Lorcan examined the texts and settled on the one that looked the easiest to learn. He then sunk into the couch, Elide right behind him, making herself comfortable as she sat on his knee. They opened the book and lorcan pointed out simple words such as ‘the’, Elide being able to follow along somewhat with her basic grasp of the alphabet. Despite Elide’s struggles and apparent frustration, Lorcan found himself perfectly content. Had it been anyone else he would have likely ripped their throat out before the made it to the second paragraph. A half hour or so had passed when Lorcan’s head suddenly whipped to the doorframe. Following his line of sight, Elide turned to find a smug looking Aelin and Rowan standing in the exit. She let out a small giggle, but sensing Lorcans annoyance, she tried to lighten the situation by turning and planting a big sloppy kiss on his cheek. Caught off guard, he began to turn red and look at her, his face turning from one of anger to a soft playful smile. He tried to play annoyed but she saw right through him. Before they could have their heads bitten off once Lorcan remembered their presence, Aelin and Rowan wisely walked away. Elide turned to Lorcan with a giddy grin. “I think I’m done reading for the day.”

“Are you sure, I mean we only just started Elide, I really don’t mind if you want to keep going…” Elide silently picked the book up off her lap and threw it aside, flinging her legs over Lorcan’s so she was fully sitting in his lap, and began to kiss his jaw slowly.

“Actually now that I think about it Elide we definitely are done reading.” Elide’s mouth made its way to Lorcans, turning into a passionate kiss. She emitted a moan as Lorcan’s tongue made its way into her own mouth, her hands gripping his hair.

“I think I want to finish what we started the other night” she breathed out heavily.

“Are you sure?” In response, Elide leaned back and began to remove her tunic. Lorcan inhaled sharply, and she felt him grow hard beneath her.

“I want you Lorcan” she whispered and leaned back further until she was laying on the couch. Lorcan followed her down and pressed their lips together passionately, while Elide’s hands cupped his face. He began to trail his kisses lower, lower, lower down her body until his head was between her thighs. Steadily he pushed them open, pulling her undergarments down until she was exposed.

“Gods Elide,” he purred, and pressed his head forward, his tongue upon her bare skin. Elide let out a startled moan, her pelvis writhing against him. Lorcan gently placed a hand on her legs to steady her while his tongue ran circles around her clit.

“Lorcan….. Please…… inside me” Elide begged, struggling to speak through the moans. Lorcan rose and kissed her again before unbuckling his pants, revealing his enormous shaft. Elide let out a gasp somewhere between shock and pleasure as she eyed it. Lorcan began rubbing it gently against her before gradually pushing the head inside of her. Elide clawed at Lorcans back, digging her nails in as she pushed through the pain.

“Are you ok, we can stop if you want” Lorcan fretted, but Elide just pushed her lips against his and kept going. After slowly getting used to the new sensation, Elides moans suddenly turned to pure pleasure, her body feeling like ecstasy around her. Lorcan pressed further into her, his animal instincts taking over.

“Can I bite you?” Lorcan lustingly asked. As Elide started at him in confusion he further explained, “it’s a fae habit, when we are with someone we deeply feel for our instincts take over and it becomes too much, we have to bite them, taste every bit of them, it’s like me making my claim on you” he explained between pants.

Elide wordlessly presented her neck to him in response, and Lorcan greedily eyed it before biting it. He let out a loud moan as his teeth sunk in and Elide’s blood rushed into his system, while Elide gasped and bit down on her lips. Lorcan began more forcefully pushing himself into her, as they were both totally overcome with lust. Lorcan continued to suck at Elides neck, his tongue running over the bite marks. The feeling of his tongue gently teasing her neck in contrast to him roughly pounding into her sent Elide over the edge. Her tiny legs wrapped around his torso as she felt her body shiver and orgasm, her eyes rolling back into her head from the sheer pleasure. This sensation overcame Lorcan’s senses as he thrusted deep inside of her and began to cum. Lorcan grunted loudly while Elide began sucking behind his neck, sending shivers down his spine and making every last drop go into Elide.

Lorcan collapsed onto Elide, both of them panting heavily. He gently kissed where he had bit her and twirled some of his hair around his fingers. Elide kissed him softly and quietly asked “was it ok?”

“Elide Lorchan, you drive me absolutely wild” he replied which sent her madly blushing.

The faint clang of pots woke them both from their romantic daze, as they realised they should get ready for lunch before the others came looking for them. They put on their clothes and flattened the wrinkles out of them as best they could before making their way back outside.

They walked out, Lorcans hand placed comfortingly on Elides lower back as they prepared to face the others. As they stepped outside there was a sudden drop of three plates on the ground and the unmistakable sharpening of one pair of iron nails.

“YOU’RE A DEAD MAN-”

“HOW DARE YOU-”

“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU-”

Aelin, Aedion and Manon approached the pair all at once, causing Elide to shrink back into Lorcan’s safety while Lorcan tried to take a protective step in front of her. The others looking on in fear, except for Fenrys who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself at the prospect of all hell breaking loose.

“What’s going on?” Elide nervously questioned, while Aedion lowly growled.

“Why don’t you tell her, Lorcan?” Manon seethed, her iron nails dangerously close to taking out his eye.

“Well, Elide, uhh, you know how fae have better senses than humans, right?” Elide nodded, the confusion apparent on her face.

“Well, those senses extend to emotions. We can kind of sense when someone is happy, or sad, or, you know…” Elide looked even more confused for a minute until her eyes grew wide on her face. She turned to face the trio that all seemed to want to stab Lorcan, understanding their anger all of a sudden. Her shock turned into a maddening blush while her brows fretted.

“And Gods Lorcan, it wasn’t already bad enough, you didn’t have to rutting bite her!” Aelin yelled, and Elide instinctively raised her hand to the bite of her neck, quickly lowering it once she realised they were all watching her.

“But i hid the bite, how could you see?” Elide asked in further horror.

“When I said the bite before was basically me marking my claim on you I meant it quite literally. Other fae males can smell it from a mile off and know that you’re taken.”

Elide blushed further, unable to meet Lorcans eyes as he tried to give her a reassuring look.

“You think you can just do whatever you want and play with her, huh?” Aedion yelled.

“How rutting dare you you prick-” Loran growled but Elide cut him off.

“I’m not a child, I haven’t even been here a day and the three of you are acting like my mothers. You have no right to tell me what I can and can’t do!”

“Or who you can or can’t do, apparently!” said Fenrys with a wide grin on his face. Lorcan stared daggers at him while Lysandra, Gavriel, Dorian and Rowan all made efforts to stifle their laughs.

“You guys all need to go back to eating your food, I can make my own decisions. If you all keep acting like this I’ll go find some other magical queen and court that don’t treat me like a baby!” The guilty party of three grumbled and sat down, Manon sneering in Lorcans face and lowering her hand before quickly running a nail across his chest, leaving a shallow cut.

“Manon!” Elide exclaimed.

“Terribly sorry, I slipped.” Manon replied, but her cunning grin indicated otherwise.

“Ok can we all just sit, I’m starving!” Elide grovelled, and Fenrys opening his mouth to make a joke about why, but Lorcan, having preempted it, shot Fenrys a look so dirty that he changed his mind. The group finally settled down and broke off into their own conversations.

“So you guys can really smell whenever people… you know?” Elide tentatively asked Lorcan as she bit down on her lunch.

“Not just when people do it, we can smell emotions, so even if they’re thinking about doing it, I know.”

“So you basically know what I’m thinking all the time?” Elide exclaimed, her face reddening by the second as she reflected back on all the times she had had unclean thoughts about Lorcan when he was with her. Lorcan just raised his eyebrows at her and smirked, but when he saw how flustered she was, attempted to take her mind off of her own thoughts.

“You know, I don’t know why Aelin got herself all worked up about us, when I can tell you that the entire time we’ve been here, her and Rowan haven’t stopped smelling like that!” Elide burst into laughter, Fenrys choked on his lunch, and Rowan stopped and stared at Lorcan, his mouth wide open.

“500 years Lorcan,” Rowan said, “500 years of trying to get you to tell just one joke, have just one bit of humour inside of you, and I couldn’t crack you, but a couple of weeks with a pretty girl and all of a sudden you’re a comedian?” there were low chuckles all around and Lorcan shot a glare in Rowan’s direction, but Elide’s gentle pat on his firm arm made Lorcan relax.

“Miracles never cease to exist” Gavriel remarked, and the group went back to eating on a comfortable silence. As Elide sat there, her arms entwined in just one of Lorcan’s much bulkier ones, her heart and stomach both full, she realised that in spite of all the struggles they had experienced, she felt the happiest she’d ever been in her entire life.

_______________________________________________________________________

Thanks so much for reading I really hope you guys liked it !!!! This was my first attempt at a fanfic so any feedback or comments would be much appreciated <3 I’m thinking of trying some more fanfic in the future, if you anyone has any suggestions feel free to send them through and I’ll try my best ! 

tags- @mehlisssa @irrelevant5 @cityofvelaris @ineedcrossants

comment if you want me to tag you in fanfics in future !

#elide x lorcan #lorcan x elide #elide and lorcan #lorcan and elide #elide lochan #manon x elide #elide #lorcan salvaterre #lorcan lochan #lorcan #tog #throneofglass #throne of glass #sarah j maas #com #crownofmidnight #crown of midnight #hof #heiroffire #heir of fire #qos #queenofshadows #queen of shadows #eos #empireofstorms #empire of storms #aedion x aelin #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #aelin ashryver

[fillogree]

Author's Note: This fic got lost and edited so many times. I just want to post it. Please let me post it.

Written for the Sander's Side Fic Exchange, organized by @the-prince-and-the-emo

For my incredibly patient partner @not-my-patton I was so close to just sending you the Google Doc, tumblr has been an absolute nightmare, but I did it! Finally, it's up!

Title: Partners in Pretend

Word Title: 1,785

Pairings: Royality, Analogical

Warnings: Implied Deceit, Slightly Manipulative Roman

"Get down, I don't want them to know we can hear them trying to set us up."

Patton giggled softly and clapped his hand over his mouth, ducking further behind the couch his eyes still shining with excitement.

He and Roman had been going over lines for a fairy tale the latter had written using some of their stuffed animals as the characters. The dialogue critique had dissolved into a game of pretend when they had overheard Virgil and Logan discussing them in the kitchen.

"I'm only stating that someone with a sunnier disposition who showcases an.. abundant amount of emotional support--"

"Overwhelming enthusiasm." Virgil interrupted, with a smirk.

"would be a valuable asset to Roman's psyche on days when he doesn't wholly feel himself."

"So your glasses do help you see the emotions of us mortals." Virgil smirked, tapping Logan's frames.

"I believe it was you who referred to yourself as a soulless being before, so alas-- your particular emotions remain unknown to me, Virgil.”

“Am I seeing this right? The stalwart Logan Crofters, teasing me?”

“Indeed I am Count Grimments, what in particular do you intend to do about it?”

Virgil's eyes widened slightly as he grinned. “Two for two, huh? I suppose I'll just make my own coffee and you'll just have to suffer.”

Back in the living room Roman's eyes shone with delight, while Patton could barely contain his excited giggles.

“It really is funny how they were trying to set us up, but get distracted by their own silly banter.” he smiled softly, scooping up Roman's stuffed bunny.

“Maybe if they were less oblivious about things-- including their own feelings, they'd know I'm already head over heels for you.” Roman grinned, taking up Patton's hand and kissing the back of it tenderly.

“Goodness me, Mr. Pierce! Whatever will I tell Princess Fluffybottom, now? I was under the impression she was to be your consort!” Patton laughed, raising the bunny to his face with his free hand.

“I am afraid I will have to break many hearts, for it is you alone that mine beats for.” Roman stood upright swiftly and offered Patton his hand. “Say you'll be mine, for I could not bear it if I am to live without you!”

Though a blush spread across Patton's freckled cheeks, there wasn't a chance he'd resist playing along. He stood and placed a hand over his chest turning away dramatically.

“Stop! Surely you know duty must come above your own desires. I couldn't possibly allow the alliance of two nations to be in jeopardy because of me.”

Roman grinned, near mirroring Patton's pose as he clutched at his shirt tightly. “Please! My radiant spring blossom, I can't hear such things! I yearn for you! My sun rises and sets with your smile, the stars in my sky are reflected in your eyes. You, and you alone are the only one I desire!”

Patton bit at his lip softly, casting his eyes to the ground shyly. The rose at his cheeks darkened as he regained the courage to gaze into Roman's soft brown eyes. This certainly was the man he had fallen for. Such a dramatic declaration of love was enough to make his heart pound, and this was all just pretend. If they hadn't already been dating, he was sure this silly game of improv would have set the crush he already had for him aflame.

“Please..” Roman continued, his voice growing softer, causing Patton's heart to skip a beat. “Say you'll run away with me. I'll shirk my throne and title for you. But my love.. I couldn't continue on without you.”

Virgil stepped out of the kitchen alongside Logan, and the two of them took up positions on either side of the doorway. Virgil cast his gaze up towards Logan who hid a smile behind his coffee mug.

“You see?” he spoke softly. “Who else could match his penchant for theatrics? I'm certain they'd make a fine coupling, they only need a bit of encouragement.”

Virgil shook his head softly. “I can't believe you of all people are trying to play matchmaker.”

“It's simply a bit of science. My hypothesis is that Patton will be of assistance and comfort to Roman, and I'm watching the two subjects in a controlled environment.”

A small chuckle passed the shorter male's lips as he rolled his eyes. “I think you need a catalyst.”

Logan's gentle smile grew a bit wider as he adjusted his glasses. “What exactly are you proposing?”

“So. You plan on dooming an alliance because of your own selfishness?” Virgil spoke up, his low rumble carrying across the living room.

Logan glanced down at Virgil's slouched posture, raising his eyebrows slightly. Patton whipped around, his eyes wide as he stared at the two.

“I-I..”

“Honestly,” Virgil continued. “what would people think? How could you escape knowing what you've done?”

“Silence!” Roman cried, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You deny your own duties as the second son, for him! You believe father would approve of your union with his own royal advisor?”

Logan choked a bit on his coffee, tilting his head curiously. “Royal advisor?”

“The castle walls are not as thick as you believe them to be, brother, your nightly trysts haven't gone unnoticed by the staff.”

Virgil took a faltering step back, scowling at the blush that rose to his cheeks. “W-wait.. what?”

Roman's eyes widened a fraction of an inch. That wasn't the reaction he was expecting. A snide comment or a haughty laugh maybe, but surprise? Maybe he was closer with Logan than he and Patton realized. Still, they couldn't both be caught off guard.

“Did you think no one would notice?” He asked, dropping his arm and taking a step forward, his gaze turning to Logan. “Did you think those stolen glances and hidden smiles were really that secret?”

Logan slowly brought his coffee cup down from his lips. “I, uh..” He wasn't good at improv, and he certainly wasn't expecting to be roped into this.

“Surely you're mistaken... I take my position very seriously. I swear, my.. prince.. I wouldn't betray your father's trust by becoming romantically involved with any of his sons. I'm well aware of the grave punishment that would await me if I did.”

“Death.” Roman hissed, his tone low and menacing. “The punishment that awaits such insubordination is death.”

Roman took a few steps towards Logan his posture low and his prowl menacing, as he flashed a cruel smile. “So it would appear neither of us has any room to speak on unions that may be seen as.. indecorous, hmm..?”

Patton and Virgil exchanged a glance. It was unsettling how similar Roman could look and sound to someone the two of them knew from their past. Patton shot Virgil a worried glance, the other nodded gently in return. As silly as all of this was, even Logan couldn't help but raise his eyebrow some at the change. That reaction was more than plenty enough for Virgil. He made an act of sighing heavily.

“Fine. We know when we've you won. We won't push anymore. But you'll still have trouble on your hands.”

“As will you.” Roman turned to Virgil before flashing Patton brilliant smile. “But love is worth it sometimes, isn't it?”

Patton blushed softly, but smiled widely in return raising his arms in the air. “Aannd scene! Thanks for playing along you guys! Roman, such an interesting twist on your hero! Your writing really has gotten more complex.

Roman beamed, taking a theatrical bow. “I do try!”

Logan cleared his throat adjusting his tie. “Agreed, that was a display of emotion that I haven't commonly seen from you, Roman. Good job. Your theatrical love declarations seemed particularly spirited today, any specific reason?”

Roman and Patton exchanged a glance, and Virgil caught Logan shift his frames subtly, as he crossed his arms. It was an inconspicuous way of declaring his victory, and Virgil couldn't help but roll his eyes at it.

“Actually! Patty Cake and I couldn't help but be inspired by you, Logan!”

Virgil blinked back his initial shock, glancing towards Patton for clarification.

“We couldn't help but notice how enraptured the two of you seemed to be for one another, so we tried our hand at imitating such a loving relationship. It went perfectly! You two are so cute together after all.”

Virgil tugged on his bangs, pulling his hands further into his sweatshirt sleeves as he sighed. Patton squealed excitingly, clinging to Roman's arm.

“I know what that means! It's true! I can't believe it, you were right, hun! They are dating!”

Roman winked, wrapping an arm around Patton's waist. “Of course I was right, Logan makes it incredibly obvious, sometimes.”

Logan frowned setting his coffee mug down on a side table. “Wait. What is exactly is going on here? You two are already dating?”

“Of course! We thought you knew already. We were trying to get you and Virgil together, but it looks like we don't have to!” Patton couldn't help but hop around excitedly.

“So.. how long..”

“Two months.” Virgil spoke up with a small grin.

“You knew?”

“You can't be roommates with Patton Foster and not know when he has a crush on somebody. It was only after he suggested coming over to your house to study the second time that I knew for sure.”

“Wait. This is ridiculous. Virgil, if you were already aware that they were together why did you encourage my theory?”

Virgil glanced away, muttering into his sleeve. “To spend time with you.. that and it's kind cute to watch you get excited over things, new ideas and stuff.. I like listening to you talk..”

“Unbelievable.” Logan sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “So when did you realize I was courting Virgil, exactly?”

Roman laughed shaking his head. “The second time Tall, Dark and Lonesome came over with Pat. When I told you both of them were coming over you actually looked up from your mystery novel. You said something about studying applied theory with Virgil, but he had economics last year with me and Remy, so I knew you were lying. You two were upstairs smooching it up, weren't you?”

“Preposterous.” Logan sighed, snatching up his cup and retreating to the kitchen.

Virgil smirked. “We've only kissed twice. I like holding hand better.”

“Awwwh!!” Patton nuzzled against Roman's shoulder happily. “That's so cute! So are our study groups double dates now?”

Virgil shrugged following Logan into the kitchen. “Maybe. For now, just clean up your toys. I'll get more drinks and we can watch a horror movie”

“Nature documentary.” Logan corrected slipping his hand into Virgil's.

“Yeah, that.”

#sanders sides fic exchange #ts fic exchange #mine.txt #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logicality #royality #sanders ships #sanders sides

[thiskryptonite]

Tagging: August Knight & Xander Drakos

Timeframe: January 13th - 19th 2019 (1 day in the faerielands)

Location: Ashbourne // Sacred Tree Portal to the Otherworld

Word Count: 1669

Notes: August informs Xander that Aria has been taken hostage by the High Queen, and what they must do to get her back.

August

August did not feel the weight of the guards leading his path and following in his step, they were intended to insure he did only as was he was told. No small part of him was humiliated, enraged did not begin to cover it but unfortunately, the witch had little time to be selfish over the matter. Because at this point, he really had no idea what he was going to do. His anger had made him so confident and assured only a short while ago in the throne room, now as August was all but shoved through the Sacred Tree and sent back into the mortal realm, he felt the weight of what needed to be done. The day was unknowable to him at this point, it was light now - morning? When only a few hours ago it had barely been dusk. August looked at his phone quickly, the device was also still trying to get its bearings. Absently he began to make a catalog of contacts he could go to, anyone who might have some indication where he could even begin looking. But the list of people who could reliably get that information was smaller still, nonexistent given how little time the High Queen had given him. Vitalis came through from the Otherworld and August's brow furrowed, was it Xander now and again? "Did you know what her intentions were for us?" His tone was pointed, his eyes leveled, his brow set upon the fae that August had thought was his friend. The fae had told him once that if he was in trouble, to ask him for help. Well he was asking now. 

Xander

Xander had of course heard about what had happened; who hadn't? Maybe it wasn't what he had expected, but he had his own tasks to attend to. It just so happened that when he exited the Otherworld, August was still mulling about. The air fae was going to simply ignore him, but the attitude was just too good to pass up. "You know, kid, if I didn't know any better, it'd seem like you were accusing me of leading you into a trap." He walked forward, form back to his human appearance as his gaze was filled with warning, "I'd watch who you accuse, August. If that had been my plan in the first place, I would've delivered you to the Queen myself." Xander stopped when he was only a couple feet away, staring back at August as he searched the young witch's features, "You seem relatively unharmed. And believe it or not, we don't have everything shared with us. I may be loyal to the Queen, but we're not always invited in on the planning. So why don't you tell me what happened, and I'll see what I have to say about it." 

August

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child.” August stated flatly, he needed this sage out of his system.“I’ve made no accusations, I recognize that I was the one stupid enough to attend.” this wasn’t worth it, not now. He blinked a few times when he remembered he hadn’t, August didn’t move to step away from the fae, “she’s after this.” His tone eased slightly, he dipped into his pocket again to retrieve the note that the High Queen had passed him in the court. It occurred to August now that Xander was certainly old enough to have some passable knowledge of this obsidian chalice. 

Xander

"You are a child. It's almost funny that you think you aren't. Ignorance isn't a good look on you, August." He took the paper from August, moving away so he could read it. He had to double check what he was looking at, the pieces falling into place. He'd heard about this after he'd needed it the most; but had the price been worth it? More questions for Nymphadora, he supposed, and definitely not August. Xander gripped the paper possibly a bit too tight, turning to look at August, "This is something she needs. But I guess that means you couldn't possibly know what it's used for, could you?" He held the note back out towards the witch, a different look of interest on his face, "And she kept your friend." 

August

“I suppose you’d prefer me reverent, clearly I should be bowing at an alter to your feet.” August said easily, “I should learn my place and accept whatever harsh blow she had planned,” he shook his head, worship was always blind. “Is it your intention to tell me?” August asked plainly, “Because time is of the essence, and while your arrogance is usually entertaining it isn’t right now.” Clearly, Aria was not with him. “Aria saved my life, and hers is forfeit if I don’t return to this spot with that chalice before the end of the week. Likely mine as well. Some party.” 

Xander

Xander rose an eyebrow, looking slightly amused at the push back. “Clearly. Because that’s how it’s always been with us, hasn’t it?” He waited a few moments, curious as to if August would rein in the childish anger he could feel radiating off of him. “If you ask me, maybe. But if you’re so intent on making me the enemy in this situation, I wont help you at all. So what’s it going to be?” He asked flatly, holding his ground. August needed him, and while he’d promised to help the young witch before, the air fae was almost curious if the Queen had intended for him to find August first. “Tell me what you know.” 

August

He felt the air between them shift, no, it hasn't August thought, but he would not back down so easily. The fae's words of course stung, it had indeed been childish to assume anything but  what Xander had made perfectly clear, but that didn't matter now. His brow lost its tension as he was deflated some, though he stepped forward and did not shy away from the fae. August would have questions for him still, but there could be none about where Xander's loyalties lie. He took the paper back. "How should I know? I am but a child." His gaze was serious, but the anger had melted from his eyes, it was rare that he asked others for help "You are not my enemy, but you told me once that if I was ever in trouble, to let you know, and you would help, if you could." - the last time had been a witch, and it had ended in the worst possible way. August's tone remained level, but his eyes were pleading. He was afraid, he couldn't fail, again. "Well I'm in trouble, Xander. I've heard of this object before, but only in obscure references that date back.... A long time. If you know something that can help, then tell me what needs to be done." 

Xander

Xander didn't make any change in emotion as he listened to August, still waiting for an actual answer. He didn't have time to play games, and if the other witch wanted to do so, then he'd be stuck finding the chalice himself. Although – Xander almost considered getting the chalice himself. It would've been of great interest to him at one point in time. Selfishly, though. He looked at August, letting out a sigh as he resigned himself to holding his own word. "Okay, okay. So let me get this straight, you need this chalice, and your friend will go free. Fine; let's start with an old friend of mine. Philippe – you and him don't really get along, do you? Either way, he might know something. Otherwise, I'll have to do some digging. Maybe you should too." 

August

August nodded, that would do fine. He tried to imagine how interest Philippe would be in this cup and wondered what the vampire’s feelings might be towards fae, in general. They’d been strictly forbidden from attending the Sarau. “That about sums it up,” August said easily, “Philippe has probably considered killing me every time we’ve met.” That was the truth. “But he is also fond of Aria, so he might just feel obligated to assist, though, it’s hard to tell. Might just be more motivation for him to kill me. Likely best for you to meet him alone.” August was pensive for a moment. “At any rate, your Queen put sage in my drink before proposing this arrangement, so I need to get it out of my system before I can do much of anything. But there is bound to be a trail somewhere of lesser known fae artifacts that have moved through this town.” August looked for a moment towards the town before he looked back to Xander, “We only have a week to accomplish this, otherwise Aria’s life is forfeit. I’ll see what I can dig up in the meantime.

Xander

“He likes me - I’m his only friend, I think. He’s kinda like that kid in class no one talks to, but I did.” Xander was clearly joking, but he was somewhat sure he was Philippe’s only friend. He looked at August, slightly nonplussed about Aria’s fate. It was one less thing he had to worry about; he’d let August deal with that one. “I’ll ask him tonight and we can see each other tomorrow. Be well.”

August

It was obviously a jest, but somehow, August really doubted that Philippe was capable of having more than one friend. That alone was impressive. But they were both about as old as the wheel so August supposed it probably made some sense that the two would have found each other and stuck. It did add another layer to much of what he'd built up about Philippe in his mind: he'd assumed a great deal about the vampire. Though he was violent, he wasn't as narrow minded as August had originally assumed. They were parting now, August headed towards home, holding up the peace sign. "You as well Xander."

#event:sarau #convo:xander #discord:xander #Xander 04

[sanctferum]

Steven Universe – Now We’re Only Falling Apart reactions

Hey, it’s another Stevenbomb, and therefore another pseudo-liveblog of an episode!

Last time on Steven Universe: Rose was, in fact, a shape-shifted Pink Diamond, making Steven himself Pink Diamond. Pearl knew all along, of course. Steven and Amethyst are shocked, and Garnet…is about to suffer a meltdown over the whole thing, for understandable reasons.

Onto the current episode! Amethyst is kinda freaking the hell out.

When PD reformed, she reformed in the shape of Rose, with her gem in its fake position to start with – there’s no way anyone, even a Diamond, could’ve kept up a mere shapeshift for 6000 years, after all. And thanks to Pearl’s tireless efforts, she was never poofed, so the truth didn’t come out that way.

Apparently, now that the Crystal Gems know the truth, PD’s command to Pearl is no longer binding, or at least isn’t with people and gems who are in the know. I think.

Yeah, having the name “Pink” generally leads to your stuff having specific color schemes. Speaking of cotton candy, isn’t that what everyone compares Garnet’s first fusion to?

And speaking of Garnet…yeah. Speaking of Ruby and Sapphire, more like it.

Sapphire is hurt and feels utterly betrayed. And it’s not just that Rose lied. It’s that Sapphire has future vision. Her JOB as a gem is to know things. And even if the truth was so deeply hidden, Sapphire could have found out. The reason she didn’t, is that due to her trust in Rose, she never bothered to look for any deeper hidden truths in the first place.

She put her trust in Rose. Fully, and, as we saw in The Answer, without question. And it’s thanks to that, that she was able to do the same with Ruby. THAT is Garnet.

That WAS Garnet.

Sapphire flees via warp pad. Pearl and Steven head after her, while Amethyst sits shellshocked on the couch and Ruby bawls her eyes out.

First stop, Rose’s fountain. Ooh, lucky guess, that’s exactly where Sapphire is. And she’s not afraid to use her ice powers to stop Pearl and Steven from getting close to her.

Sapphire, in despair, can’t help seeing the whole thing as not just Rose’s fault, but her intended results. If Rose was a Diamond, then, from Sapphire’s point of view, of course all the pain and suffering and corruption and shattering was something she wanted to happen. It’s a simplistic view, that Diamond = evil full stop. And it’s a view that in the end, would seem to absolve the Diamonds of their crimes – if they’re inherently evil, are they truly responsible for the suffering they bring? But Sapphire’s not exactly in the mood to think clearly, and I know all too well that when you’re in a bad place, you start to assume the worst of everything, and overexaggerate all the bad while downplaying the good.

And of course, if Sapphire’s vaunted powers couldn’t uncover Rose’s deception…for now, she’s lost all faith in being able to use those powers…

Pearl starts to explain Rose/Pink’s backstory…and her own. At the time the two of them first met, Pink still didn’t have her own colony. A couple thousand years before Pink was gifted Earth…she was gifted a present from her older sisters (I’m assuming Pearl was from White Diamond’s court in particular). A Pearl. A status symbol, to try and make Pink a bit happier than the angsty rebellious teenager she was.

By the time she was given Earth, Pink had matured somewhat from how she was in Jungle Moon, albeit a long way from becoming a true Diamond, or even the rebel Quartz she’s eventually masquerade as. And Pearl…was, like Yellow Pearl and Blue Pearl have been seen as, a mere yes-man and servant, a far cry from the “terrifying renegade Pearl” Sapphire would eventually hear rumors of.

Interesting! At this point in Earth’s history, the prime kindergarten was being worked on, as seen on the holo-globe. And the shape of the continent it’s on…hmmm. I’d thought Florida’s absence from the SU version of Earth was caused by some sort of gem event, perhaps something during the war. But not just Florida, but much of the surrounding area, is just…not there. I don’t know what the Earth looked like 10000-7000 years ago, or however long this takes place, so I dunno if this image matches up with our world’s version, but…South America still contains much of what would eventually become Africa, what will become Greenland is a lot smaller than what Greenland is today, etc etc.

Anyways, PD is clearly pretty bored. However, the kindergarten is starting to bear fruit – quartz soldiers, though none have actually been fully created yet. But soon, they will emerge. And PD wants to watch! Luckily, she’s on the throne in the moon base, and the viewing orb that Lapis will use many thousands of years in the future is in perfect condition, and only a flight of stairs away.

Hmmm. PD seems awfully excited about creating life. But, there’s no way she wouldn’t know about how that works, right? That creating gems uses up energy? That the energy taken will eventually leave nothing behind for organic life? She must be well aware of that by now, she just hasn’t had any reason to care about lifeforms other than gems, due to the way she was raised.

First quartz out of the prime kindergarten is an Amethyst! A regular sized one, of course.

PD welcomes the new amethyst to Earth, but is reminded that she isn’t actually there via the amethyst not being able to hear her, and walking right through her to two other amethysts that have either beaten this one to the “first gem born out of the kindergarten” achievement or maybe they were part of the crew that set up the kindergarten in the first place?

PD, naïve as she is, wants to be part of the gang. She wants to be friends with the amethysts, and seems unaware that in her current position, that simply isn’t possible. I wonder if a bad experience at trying to befriend those who can’t see her as anything but their ruler will be what makes her invent Rose?

Oh, nevermind, she didn’t come up with Rose at all. Pearl did. Pearl, trying to figure out how to let PD mingle with the other gems without Blue and Yellow ever finding out, had a spur-of-the-moment idea – a shapeshift-aided disguise, one that would let PD pass as a quartz. This is the moment that, unbeknownst to the two of them, changes everything.

Pearl looks up as she finishes her explanation, only to find nothing. And lowering her eyes, she sees…

There it is, the very first time Rose Quartz ever was a thing, all in front of Pearl’s eyes. Though, I suspect at this point only the general idea and appearance were a thing – after all, there were only amethysts in the kindergarten. Could it be that PD created Rose Quartz gems in her alter ego’s image, instead of the other way around? As a way of explaining her strange-looking gem, which is very obviously faceted differently than an amethyst?

Huh, even though “Rose”, if she’s even called that yet, was created as a concept moments ago, PD’s shapeshift still has star-shaped pupils when excited.

Hmmmm. I wonder how obvious it is that Rose is PD at this point? She certainly has a pearl with her. That’s not something a simple worker gem would have…

Rose immediately gets knocked over by a hurrying amethyst, and has to stop Pearl from taking any punitive action.

“I am…fitting right in!” Uh-huh. I…think that’s a thing that might go better if you don’t loudly talk about how much you fit right in? And also don’t have your pearl with you.

pfffffff

“Hey, fellow amethyst guards” oh god I know EXACTLY the meme for this situation and it is “how do you do fellow kids”

“That is the first and nicest thing anyone has ever said to me” That really doesn’t mean much you know? Well, I guess you don’t, being a freshly made gem, but still…

“But…8XM hasn’t emerged yet” wait

8XM? As in…

…is this facet 5?

No, that…doesn’t make sense, does it? There’s no fucking way this is OUR Amethyst, is it? I’m certain her designation was Facet 5 Cut 8XM though.

gfdi crewniverse

“What if…we took some time to explore some of Earth’s…other features?” And so it begins. Rose’s infatuation with organic life begins here, doesn’t it.

Oh, we’re back in the present, huh

And back to flashback time!

In the guise of a quartz, PD tours the Earth. Plants…animals…even humans. Life is everywhere!

I wonder…some of these humans must have been the ancestors of the Zoomans. Hell, the Zoo itself makes so much more sense with Pink Diamond being Rose’s true identity. As does Pearl’s knowledge of stuff like it’s existence, and location, and etc.

As her day of fun comes to an end, PD’s expression becomes gloomy. It was easy to say “whatever life is here must be sacrificed for the production of gems” when she was sitting in her throne on the moon. But now she’s seen it for herself. She has a deeper understanding of that life…and of what all her plans will do to it.

There’s no such thing as a perpetual motion machine, or an infinite source of energy, or creating something from nothing. In order to create gems, energy must be used. And there’s only so much energy than can be used before nothing is left.

Pearl apologizes for taking PD to see what she’s seen, but it’s not an apology PD can accept. Now that she understands what’s really going on, she knows that seeing what she saw, coming to the awful revelations she came to…it was important.

Sapphire still doesn’t understand why PD couldn’t just stop Earth’s colonization herself. But…she tried. She may have been a Diamond, but when among the other Diamonds, she was no one. No one but a petulant brat of a child.

…And as for the zoo, it wasn’t even PD who kidnapped the humans and sent them off to live their lives in a cage. PD asked to preserve the life on Earth, and that’s how Blue “fulfilled” her request. Yellow didn’t even go so far as to try and compromise, she just scolded Pink and told her to, essentially, get back to work. For all the power of a Diamond, in the end PD was powerless. At least, as Pink Diamond.

But were a regular gem to rebel, one who couldn’t simply be scolded or mollified, one whose resistance would upset the status order much more than a Diamond arguing with another Diamond, one with all the support of an ideal and, unbeknownst to the other Diamonds or to her own followers, all the resources of a Diamond…her sisters wouldn’t be able to brush that off. They would have to respond, whether they liked it or not.

But the ideal that Rose Quartz rallied all those troops around didn’t exist till later on. Originally, it was just “Rose” and Pearl, fighting on their own, not for gem freedom or anything, but simply as an excuse for Pink to “abandon” her own colony. And then something happened that changed everything.

Instead of letting Pink abandon Earth to its own devices, Yellow and Blue decided to help her hunt down and shatter Rose and Pearl. And in pursuit of this goal, Blue Diamond came to Earth with her retinue. And that retinue included a specific Sapphire and her three Ruby guards. And just as Sapphire predicted, Rose and Pearl took the opportunity to attack. And in the heat of the moment, in a desperate attempt to save the Sapphire she was tasked with guarding, Ruby accidentally fused with Sapphire into Garnet.

Oh hey, two Topazes among the amethyst guards! Dunno if they’re OUR Topaz’s, but they could be. Law of character conservation and all.

And in the aftermath…Rose couldn’t help gushing over fusion. Suddenly she had so many questions! Suddenly, entirely new experiences had opened up!

And Pearl, bless her soul, immediately attempted to fuse with Rose.

And after the failure of that fusion, Pearl freaks out. What was she thinking? Fusing not only with another gem, but a Diamond?! She’s convinced that she’s defective. Not just the whole fusing thing but…she has an imagination. Even when Pink doesn’t ask her to think about stuff, she thinks about stuff. She has fantasies, daydreams about being together with Rose – Rose, a normal Rose Quartz, with no status or high rank, just the two of them, being together and happy. She thinks the fact that she thinks that way means there’s something wrong with her.

Rose completely disagrees.

“Ridiculous, right, haha, tell me to stop–“

“Please, don’t ever stop!”

And in that moment, Rainbow Quartz was born…and immediately falls apart as they react in shock. And then Rose remembers Ruby and Sapphire, and immediately resolves to rescue their fusion from Blue.

And a few moments later, guess who comes stumbling along nearby? Someone who didn’t need to be rescued from Blue Diamond, due to having managed to flee in time. Garnet.

Garnet was the first gem Rose wanted to fight for. In a sense, it was Garnet, not Rose or Pearl, who started the Crystal Gems. And Garnet decided to follow Rose, when in actuality, Rose was following Garnet…

Huh, the credits are rolling before the episode even ends. Hey, Steven’s VA also voices Pumpkin. Huh.

Anyways, it was Pearl who introduced Pink to Earth. And Pink fell in love with Earth, and with Pearl.

Now that Sapphire’s finally calmed down, she remembers she left Ruby alone at the house and rushes back. But…the house is empty. No Ruby. No Amethyst. No sign of Peridot or Pumpkin, even. The only thing that seems to be there is a piece of paper with Sapphire’s name on it. Some sort of letter, I think?

That’s all for now, folks! We’ll read Ruby’s (?) letter next time I guess!

#Steven Universe #SU #Steven Universe spoilers #SU spoilers #Now We're Only Falling Apart #spoilers

[longsightmyth]

Chapter-by-Chapter, The Naming, Chapter 11

PELLINOR

And from his icy throne a king

Rose from his spellbound sleep and saw

A vision of the banished spring

A form so fair and luminous

That from his frosted eyes the hoar

Ran down like tears and, marveling,

He felt the chains of winter thaw

And years of thraldom ruinous

Between them stood a wall of ice

And round them barren winter waste,

But each saw in the other’s face

The light of summer lingering:

And then like thunder broke the frost,

The chill wall fell, and morrowless

Immortal maid and man embraced,

Their light and shadow mingling.

That’s two verses from The Lay of Ardina and Ardhor, and that’s how this new section (Rachida) starts out.

Maerad and Cadvan ride through the dark and the rain for a couple of hours before coming to a small town called Stormont. They’re still in Innail Fesse (basically the lands that Innail is responsible for educating, healing, and in general helping) and Cadvan feels safe enough to rent some rooms at an inn without disguising him and Maerad. The innkeeper knows him and assures him that he’ll be discrete.

The next morning Cadvan wakes Maerad up and they’re ready to go within an hour even allowing for a giant breakfast. Maerad reflects that if their stays are always like this the trip won’t be too bad.

Maerad is less genre-savvy than she could be. It’s unfortunate. Also unfortunate: everyone and their cousin seems to think Cadvan might be shacking up with a sixteen year old on the sly. I’d forgotten that.

The innkeeper mentions as he sees them off that he keeps hearing stories about things being ‘out of whack’. Cadvan says that things are, but the bards are doing what they can and hopes that the inn remains untouched. They’re off.

They ride for a day before coming up on another inn. Cadvan is clearly being nice, and he tells Maerad cheerfully that after this she should be ready for tree roots. Here they pretend to be husband and wife, and I sideye EVERYONE, though I suppose if they’re pretending not to be bards Cadvan could be assumed to be in his mid-to-late twenties and I GUESS if we’re going with vaguely Renaissance culture (as stated in the appendices) sixteen isn’t too young for marriage but also she’s sixteen. Ugh. Anyway.

The innkeeper here gives them a suite, and Maerad realizes that in the biggest fanfic cliche ever there is only one bed. She stands there, getting more and more nervous, until the innkeeper leaves and she quietly points this out to Cadvan.

“There’s only one bed,” she whispered.

Cadvan glanced up quickly, and Maerad understood that he knew or guessed more than she realized about her doubts and fears.

“That’s easily solved,” he said. “I’ll sleep on the couch. Luxury for a man like me.”

“A hard man of the wild,” she said, suddenly feeling lighter. “No doubt a stone floor is a king’s sleep.”

“The finest swans-down. But of course, you are welcome to such comfort if you desire.”

Maerad laughed, her anxiety dissipated.

They have dinner (“a thick beef casserole fragrant with herbs and topped with a chewy layer of melted cheese, with fresh bread and local wine” and yes I am now hungry) and the innkeeper offers them some apple tart too, because his wife (the cook for the establishment) makes super good clotted cream and her tarts are good too.

It’s super good. Maerad and Cadvan tell the innkeeper so when he comes back for plates.

“Marta will be grand happy to hear that,” [the innkeeper] said. “She takes a lot of care over her cooking, so she does, even if some don’t care or notice.”

I am officially invested in this innkeeping couple, okay. He’s mad that people don’t appreciate his wife’s work. He brags about her skills. We haven’t even met her yet and I ship it hard. ANYWAY.

Cadvan does some probing in regards to Ettinor (Helgar the racist dick’s school, if you recall).

“I hear the bards is demanding up in Ettinor,” said Halifax [the innkeeper]. “And they leave scarce little for the people to make a life with, living high on the sweat of others with nary a thank-you. Not like our School here, where they run things fair, if you know what I mean. They do Barding proper here, they do. They’re here every Springturn and and harvest, and the little ‘uns hereabouts know all their letters. And I remember when my daughter had the witchfever, back when she was a babe, and she looked like dying, and Oron herself came and laid her hands on her.”

Halifax also mentions more specific grievances, such as the two people who felt like bards leaving without paying the other day. He leaves to take care of other guests.

Maerad asks what all of this means. Cadvan doesn’t know for sure, but he doesn’t like it and he fully believes that the innkeeper was right about something being off here too.

“Innkeepers are not stupid, they are used to meeting many kinds of people, and their intuitions are often more practiced than most.”

They go to sleep, and Maerad dreams.

Something creeps along the road to Innail and tries to get into Silvia and Malgorn’s house but fails miserably in a bright flash of light. It picks itself up and keeps moving.

Dernhil looks up “like a deer scenting a wolf” just before there is a knock on his door. He doesn’t answer it, but it busts open anyway.

Two figures stood in the dark hallway beyond.

Dernhil stood up as the figures walked into the light. They were heavily cloaked and booted in black, and their hoods obscured their faces, although he could see their eyes burning red. A chill, like that of a tomb, entered the room with them and Dernhil lifted his hands as if to fend them off.

“You cannot ward against us!” said one of the figures sharply, making a strange motion with his hands.

Dernhil was suddenly stilled, as if he were frozen.

“We are come for a little information, Dernhil of Gent. Help us, and our master will reward you richly.”

There was a long silence. “I know who you are,” Dernhil said at last. His speech was thick, as if he were in pain. “I’ll not have any dealings with your kind.”

They want to know about Maerad. Dernhil says absolutely nothing for the last very few minutes of his life, but he does radiate “an aura of light, recalling the luminosity of sunlight on summer trees or the radiance of a fountain.” It seems to hurt the hulls (that’s what they are, okay, we know) but they aren’t stopped and try to probe his mind for info. Dernhil and one of the hulls meet eyes, and Dernhil shouts and collapses, dead.

“There was nothing there,” [the hull] said. “Nothing.”

Maerad wakes up when they leave the room, but first they kick Dernhil’s body aside pretty carelessly. She takes a long time to go back to sleep.

Pages: 12

Fragments: 2

Em-Dashes: 3

Ellipses: 0

THRONE OF GLASS

Only one chapter this time! It’s chapter 23.

Celaena has a dream where she’s back in Endovier being whipped. It’s a pretty effective piece of writing up until the very end, where it goes flowery again. She wakes to Chaol telling her it was a dream, and we are reminded that she has three whip scars on her back.

We also learn that it’s Samhuinn, and Celaena is angry that no one told her. They have toilets but not calendars? Anyway, she’s not training today, and she wants to know if there’s a feast.

There is, Chaol says, and she’s not invited. Celaena says of course she isn’t and manages not to exposition dump what Samhuinn is but still convey the idea of it in dialogue, which I appreciate even though it’s Samhain. It’s just Samhain.

Chaol does say she can go to the temple services as they sit down to breakfast, saying that religious observances shouldn’t be denied anyone. I agree with the sentiment but question the practicality of allowing the assassin in the same room with all the royals and courtiers.

She keeps adding sugar to her porridge and at one point makes a ‘demented’ face. We learn by way of her complaining that there is another Test coming up, and that the last one was three days ago and involved javelin-throwing from horseback. Celaena’s wrist is still sore.

We switch to Dorian’s PoV. He was bored during the service and doesn’t like religion, which also means we saw none of the religion. He is also bored with the women at court, because they all titter and fawn and flutter their fans and lashes or whatever. Probably these women all titter and fawn and flutter their fans and lashes because they live in a court at the whim of an apparently tyrannical and murderous ruler and are playing it safe, but what do I know? Probably every single woman in the entire court of Adarlan is actually a hollow, empty shell who cares nothing about anything but looking pretty, that one seems more likely.

We learn that Perrington wants to bring in more soldiers and launch a full scale assault on Eyllwe, on whose political status I am still unclear. Are they a protectorate? A tributary? Have they somehow managed to stay their own independent nation? If so, why only Eyllwe out of all the other nations? Or are Fenharrow and Melisande ALSO nominally still under their own rule but have Adarlanian ‘advisors’ or some such? Why does Dorian say there are no more princesses? I know Fenharrow has the council of lords and Melisande has a puppet queen, but neither of them seem to have the same presence or consideration at court that Eyllwe does. TELL ME.

Ahem.

Dorian runs into Celaena, Nehemia, and Chaol. Chaol seems to be over his difficulties about Celaena hanging out with Nehemia. Dorian comments on Celaena’s dress, which is out of date (hey look! Consideration of the evolution of fashion!). Chaol says that her maids were at the service so she had to get ready herself, but that makes no sense from a timeline or nobility/entitlement standpoint so idk. Dorian reiterates that Celaena can’t go to the feast when Nehemia asks. For some reason Nehemia and Celaena intimidate Dorian by cracking one joke about him keeping women entertained.

Nehemia rags on the king of Adarlan in public and asserts that soldiers and guards are the same thing. Nehemia, I expected better princess Leia-ing from you, madam. Nehemia also declares that Celaena will teach her Adarlanian, to which Chaol acquiesces. I’d believe the royal pressure more if Chaol ever caved to royal pressure in ways that doesn’t directly benefit the plot just because.

They see Cain cleaning the marks on the ground around the clock tower. Nehemia says Celaena is hiding something from her. Celaena can tell Nehemia is hiding something from her too. They agree to meet after supper for Celaena to teach Nehemia her language. End chapter.

Pages: 12

Fragments: 2

Em-Dashes: 3

Ellipses: 0

COMPARISON

I just don’t like Throne of Glass, y’all. I just don’t. I find the worldbuilding shoddy at best, the characters unlikeable and inconsistent, and the morality upsettingly protagonist-centered while masquerading as feminism. Putting one female character on a pedestal and dragging down all other women who don’t actively uphold that pedestal is not feminism, it’s just being an asshole.

That being said, this is not its worst-written chapter. We manage to learn something about the religion (or at least a religious holiday) in a pretty natural-seeming conversation AND get some idea about current fashions vs historical ones, Nehemia and Celaena are being bros, and there is some actual foreshadowing (however clumsy I personally found it).

I still despise Dorian. I despise him with every fiber of my being. Anyone who decides that every woman around him (except our beloved protagonist, of course) is a shallow, vapid twit with no brains and fails to note that the only factors they all have in common are a, him, and b, his tyrannical, murderous father, is a selfish dick who refuses to see past the end of his own nose. Miss me with that ‘Dorian is our hope for the future’ nonsense, Chaol, I don’t want him.

Meanwhile, Nehemia’s spycraft is slipping sideways into shoddy. It’s unfortunate, but moreover it undermines the scariness of the king of Adarlan. I can’t be scared of him if he never does anything, book, and unfortunately the later murder of a rebel group that we’ve never met and knew nothing about doesn’t give me-the-reader the kind of low-key dread that I’d have if everyone at court worked hard to never naysay him or be heard speaking against his policies or just plain disappearing if they did. That would be scary, book. That would imply consequences. As it is, he just lets people who actively and loudly undermine him run around court? Sure. That sounds like a demon who has no regard for human life running a conquering nation with an iron fist. Absolutely.

Over in Pellinor, we have Maerad and Cadvan riding and riding and riding, and we learn all sorts of things about the world from what bards are expected to do, how good bard leaders behave, and the respect Cadvan has and is imparting to Maerad for non-bards.

We also get people thinking Cadvan would sleep with a sixteen year old. What is this, y’all. Why. She’s sixteen. She’s a CHILD. Renaissance-based culture, etc etc, I know, but we’re writing for modern audiences and I just. Maerad and another sixteen year old or even eighteen or twenty or whatever, okay, I get it, but Cadvan and Dernhil are both fully mature bards around the same age and Cadvan is in his seventies so…? Book. Book culture. I’m watching you.

Cadvan and Dernhil do respect Maerad’s feelings and boundaries, though, as opposed to Celaena’s 500+ year old love interest/mate/husband in later books though, so like. Am I grading on a curve? Does Pellinor get points for having a mature and cautious slowly-developing relationship after having another dude react maturely to rejection? Does it lose them for having a romance (two?) between what is after all a sixteen year old and a 70+ year old even if he is essentially a Dunedain? Do I give Throne of Glass points because (most) of Celaena’s love interests are around her age, or take them away because she ends up with a 500+ year old jerk who doesn’t listen to her about her own body or feelings? It’s a dilemma, y’all (it’s not: they all lose points, Throne of Glass just loses more)

Speaking of Actual Peril with High Stakes, Dernhil is dead. Dernhil, we hardly knew ye, but we did know you were an emotionally mature librarian and Silvia liked you, so. Props for bardically killing yourself so the hulls couldn’t get anything out of you about Maerad and Cadvan. I’m sad about it.

#myth reads The Books of Pellinor #myth reads The Naming #myth rags on throne of glass #myth reads #cw: suicide #tw: sucide mention

[illyrian-bitch-queen]

Flaming Stars-Chapter 1

I’ve been promising this for I don’t know how long, and it’s been on the backburner for a pretty long time, but here’s the first chapter of the Crossover fic between Throne of Glass and A Court of Thorns and Roses that @bookworm-addict requested (forever ago, I’m sorry about that).

I’m planning on posting a chapter of this once a week until it’s finished, but I moved to a new country a couple months ago to study abroad and will be going back in a little over a month now (I’m going to sob like a baby when I leave the UK, not gonna lie) so I will be pretty busy at the same time, and I can’t promise I won’t fall behind. I’m going to try really hard to keep to the schedule though.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy this :)

~Aelin discovers some strange Wyrdmarks in the Orynth library and struggles to find their purpose~

Chapter Two ** Aelin’s temper was legendary. Everyone in Orynth knew that the queen had as much fire in her temperament as she did in her power. And everyone knew when that fire was stoked, when smoke curled from her nostrils and flames burned in her eyes.

Word got around quickly when the Queen of Terassen was on a warpath, and Rowan typically knew when she was in a mood before he encountered it for himself.

This time was no exception. Apparently, she'd had an encounter with one of the more...difficult Whitethorns. Endy had warned the king about that much. But Fenrys was the only one who knew exactly what had been said when the two collided, and he refused to repeat whatever had put his queen in such a mood.

Rowan had yet to see her, but she had apparently locked herself in her study and refused to see even Aedion when he tried to speak with her. Probably because her pride was hurting over losing her temper, Rowan mused.

When he approached the door, he saw Aedion leaning sulkily against the opposite wall. Rowan raised a brow at Aelin’s cousin and he just scowled over at the door Aelin had barricaded herself behind--the door to her study. Rowan sighed.

“Aelin,” he called, rapping his knuckles briefly against the door before trying the knob. Locked indeed. Not that a locked door could stop him--or even Aedion, if he was willing to risk the queen’s wrath. “Let me in.”

A low snarl echoed from within the room, apparently the only response Rowan would receive. He sighed, shaking his head. “Aelin, you're a queen. That means you don't have time to act like a child.”

“Actually, that's exactly why I can act however I wish,” she called back, her voice no closer to the door than the snarl had been. Her mate huffed.

“Fireheart, I want to talk to you without a door between us.”

She made a little ‘humph’ noise, and he heard papers rustling, the scratch of a pen, but no footsteps.

Rowan widened his stance, growing impatient. “Aelin, if you don't open the door, I'm going to snap the lock.”

Aedion scoffed from behind him. Rowan tossed the male a dirty look over his shoulder. Aedion just smirked.

“Boyo, if you don't find a reason to be somewhere else within the next twenty seconds, I'm going to give you a reason to be in the infirmary,” Rowan growled.

The two usually got along fairly well, but sometimes the young male forgot his place--a youth and prince facing a king. Aedion’s smirk turned immediately into a scowl at Rowan’s threat.

“Both of you knock it off,” Aelin snapped, swinging the door open without warning. She pointed a slim finger at her cousin. “You, get out. Go find Lysandra. She was looking for you earlier.” Aedion narrowed his eyes, probably recognizing that Aelin was just trying to get rid of him. He did as she ordered anyway, giving her an unimpressed look as he did. She waited until Aedion sulked off to turn to her husband. “And if anyone’s cousin is going to the infirmary, it's going to be yours.”

She turned and stomped inside, her long hair swaying with every purposeful step. Rowan sighed and followed her, his eyes going skyward as he prayed to the gods for help to calm his fireheart--enough at least to get her to the meeting they had later with the diplomats from the Wastes.

“I heard you had a run in with Alisto,” Rowan started, naming his least favorite cousin. He had been visiting Terassen from Doranelle, where Selene was leading as Aelin’s head of state. “I promise, he's the nastiest of them.”

She huffed, dropping down to her seat with a half-assed glare in the king’s direction.

“I mean, if you can handle Lorcan, Alisto couldn't have been so bad.”

“He, in fact, reminded me quite a lot of Lorcan,” she said flatly, looking down at her paperwork for a moment before glancing back up at Rowan. “Except he was more devious. He didn’t outright insult me, but did it slyly enough that I could only insult and threaten him slyly in return without looking like the offending party. I hate conversations like that. I’d rather just have it out with people like him than talk circles.”

“But you’re so good at it, Fireheart,” Rowan returned, smiling down at his mate. Indeed, her clever tongue was one of his favorite parts of her, in more ways that one.

Aelin looked up at him through her lashes and fluttered them a little. “Oh, I know. And Alisto knows that now as well. But you see, he wasn’t a very fun partner when it comes to verbal sparring. There was almost no competition.”

“Is there ever competition when it comes to you, love?” Aelin’s lips turned up at the flattery, and she chuckled quietly, raising her eyes to meet his fully.

“You only encourage my ego when it’s beneficial to you, buzzard.”

“That’s just not true,” Rowan purred in return, leaning a bit closer to where she was seated. “I believe that half of the words I speak a day are probably spent telling you how beautiful and intelligent and clever and lovely you are.”

Aelin huffed. “Yes, and they all work towards you getting your way. Not to mention, I’m quite sure Fenrys does the same thing.”

Rowan laughed. “No, Aelin, Fenrys spends at least three quarters of his words on flattering you. I at least tamp down on the flattery enough to keep your head from growing too large to hold the crown.”

Aelin laughed fully then, her eyes lighting up. Rowan smiled back at her, and they fell into a comfortable silence for a long moment before Aelin spoke again.

“We don't have to invite all of your relatives to our wedding, do we?”

Rowan couldn't help a chuckle. The wedding, a mere formality really, was being planned only so that they could have a ceremony that their friends and allies could attend, rather than rushed, secret vows spoken in the middle of a war. “Aelin, if we invited all of my relatives, we would need a much bigger venue than Mistward.”

Her eyes lit up. “We don't have to invite the ass then?”

Rowan laughed, coming forward to lean his hip against her desk. “Not if you really don't want to. He'd probably take it as a personal slight, but his opinion really doesn’t matter.”

Aelin smiled then, reaching out across the desk to take his hand. Rowan tried not to think of how easy it would be to push the papers and writing tools off of the desk and put her on it instead.

It wouldn't be the first time, and probably not the last time, they'd fucked in this room, or even on that desk. It was exactly why Rowan tried not to go in her study unless they had something important to talk about.

He cleared his throat as Aelin looked up at him, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. Her mate glanced down at the papers she'd been looking at to avoid meeting her gaze.

“This again?” he said with a frown, turning one of the papers so he could read it properly. She sighed, leaning back in her seat.

“Rowan,” she whined, her lower lip jutted out slightly in a pout. He knew what she wanted, and he carefully kept his focus on the paper when she leaned forward, purposefully showing her cleavage.

“Aelin,” he groaned, tapping his fingers on the paper. “We don't have time for that today. We have to meet with the Ansel’s diplomats in half an hour.”

She looked up at Rowan through her lashes. “I can work with half an hour.”

He raised his eyes skyward to attempt to pray for some self-control. She knew full well that, once he got his hands on her, they'd be busy for much more than half an hour.

She pouted fully at him now, recognizing that she was getting nowhere. She leaned back in her seat with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. “Ass,” she hissed.

Rowan chuckled. “Are you really so impatient for me already? You just had me this morning.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “You're the one who came in here when you knew what always happens when you come in here.”

“Because you were sulking,” he returned, raising a brow at her crossed arms and slouched posture.

She pursed her lips, recognizing that she was, once again, beginning to sulk. She sat up straight, uncrossing her arms and pushing her papers into a pile, shoving a piece of her hair out of her eyes as she did, as if she could pretend that she wasn’t pouting by organizing herself a little.

Rowan put a palm firmly over the papers she was gathering, not moving until she met his eyes with frustration.

“Aelin, you should give this a rest. It could be dangerous, it could be beneficial, or it could just be someone’s rutting doodling. No matter what, I don't think it's worth the stress you’re getting from it.”

Aelin sighed, resting her chin on a fist. “I just can't get it out of my mind.”

She looked down at the papers strewn around her desk. They'd found them a week ago in one of Orynth’s smaller, more secret libraries while Aelin was looking through for reading material. They'd instantly recognized wyrdmarks, and Aelin had ordered the library be scoured for more of the marks, enlisting the help of their closest friends.

They'd found three collections of these new wyrdmarks, written along pages with arrows and words in a strange language between them. Nobody had been able to tell them what the language was. Aelin had been struggling to comprehend them since they'd found them.

“I think they're instructions,” she muttered now, more to herself than to Rowan. “I don't know what they could be telling us to do, though.”

Her eyes flicked rapidly back and forth along the pages. The king began to gather them up again for her, drawing her attention back to him. “Well, maybe they're instructions on how to get yourself out of your damned office and go help me handle the diplomats sent from your lovely friend in the wastes.”

A wry smile curled at the edges of her lips. “I assumed Ansel would send her most difficult emissaries. I would've been disappointed with any less.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Well, I would have been thrilled,” he grumbled.

Aelin grinned at him, standing slowly and stretching her arms up with a quiet moan. Although her face was completely innocent, her mate knew that she was aware of what that sound did to him.

Rowan sent his eyes around the room, focusing on anything but the way her tunic rose up as she stretched, showing a sliver of her tanned abdomen.

She chuckled as she came forward and grabbed his hand, drawing his eyes back to her. “Something wrong, buzzard?”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Absolutely nothing, Princess.”

Her nose wrinkled. She always pretended to hate being called princess now that she was fully crowned as the queen, but Rowan knew she liked it because it reminded her of when things were easy, when it was just the two of them training in the woods at Mistward.

They could use a reminder of the beginning every now and then. It kept them grounded.

“I figure we should go see to the diplomats, then. Hopefully they at least speak our language this ti--”

She stopped suddenly, her eyes widening, her lips parting in shock. Rowan turned to her in alarm, resting a hand on her shoulder. Before he could say anything, she held a hand up, her eyes going to his, asking for a moment to think. Rowan fell silent, letting his queen sort through her thoughts.

Then she rushed back to her desk, shoving through the papers they’d just stacked and leaving them a scattered pile again. She held up the page that had puzzled them the most.

It was just a single, large wyrdmark.

“Translation,” she breathed. “This is for translation. I knew it had some meaning to it,” she said quickly. “I could feel it teasing at my mind, but this is it! I know it.”

Rowan looked at her hesitantly. “Aelin, there's no way to be sure of that. What if you're wrong?”

She paused, her brows furrowing as she lowered the page. “Rowan, I can feel it.”

Her eyes were dancing with the joy of discovery, and they were darkened with passion and surety. She had no doubts.

Yet, Rowan hesitated. Even if she was convinced she was right, it didn't mean that she was. She was wrong every now and then, even if she preferred to pretend she wasn’t.

“It's not safe,” he said, shaking his head and moving over to her side. “Please, Aelin. Just think about it.”

“I have,” she said back, her tone adamant. “I've thought about it for a week now. But I understand.”

Rowan wasn’t near as sure as she was, but he didn't stop her as she reached for the dagger she had strapped to the underside of her desk, a small measure of defense that was useless, really, when she could use flames easier than she could free the weapon to use if someone were to attack her in the study. It was mostly there as a comfort, and maybe as a way to defend herself without taking the risk of setting any important documents on fire.

Or apparently, Rowan noted with alarm, in case she needed to slice her palm open at the drop of a hat. He lunged forward to stop her, but she’d already cut a thin line into her palm. Rowan still pulled the weapon from her. “Rutting hell*, Aelin!” She gave him a look, raising her brow.

“Oh hush, you mother hen.” Her lips twitched at her own sly pun--she loved bird jokes as much as she loved getting him into a panic--and Rowan just scowled at her. “I’m just going to try something,” she assured him. He wasn’t comforted in any way.

She pressed her first two fingers into the blood she'd drawn and paused for only a second before dragging the fingers along the paper, tracing the shape the the strange wyrdmark made.

The second she was finished, Rowan reached forward and pressed his hand over hers to staunch the bleeding and push a little of his healing power into her body. It was a shallow cut, but enough to make him uneasy. Any blood drawn from Aelin made him uneasy.

He was relieved when nothing happened as her blood soaked into the paper. It was rather anticlimactic, and there was a moment of charged silence, but nothing exploded. Nobody came rushing in to say that the world had just been set on fire.

Nothing had happened.

But Aelin’s sharp gasp was enough to draw his eyes back down to the mark. She shoved that paper aside, and Rowan swore under his breath at the papers below it.

She'd been right. It was a translation. The words on the strange papers had arranged themselves into letters and words that he recognized.

And she'd been doubly right. They were instructions. She began grabbing papers and reading them, flipping them under and on top of one another. Rowan grudgingly began to help, and they worked until they managed to get them all in order. Fifty pages in total, all with wyrdmarks and the order of them, the placement.

It was for a ‘transport’.

Aelin read the word aloud, tapping her fingers against the paper thoughtfully. Her eyes were swarming with curiosity and determination, her hair falling around her face and her lower lip caught between her teeth.

Rowan loved when she looked like this, so deep in thought. But these wyrdmarks were giving him a bad feeling. They didn't know what we were toying with here. And transport? Transport to where?

“Fireheart,” Rowan murmured, resting his hand on her back. “We can get to this later. We have foreign diplomats to worry about right now.”

She nodded slowly, but he knew she wasn't really listening to him. Her husband sighed, tugging gently on her arm now. He just wanted her away from this whole situation. He was terrified that it was going to put his mate in danger, danger they had left behind years ago, at least for the most part.

“Aelin. It's time to go. We can worry about this later. You need to go run your kingdom right now.”

She looked up at him before sighing heavily and forcing herself to push the papers away.

“Okay,” she breathed. “Okay. Let's go.” She stood up straight, pushing her hair back and adjusting her clothes so that they sat properly again, giving herself a moment to recollect while she fixed her appearance.

Rowan knew it was hard for her to push back the curiosity boiling in her veins, and he kissed her on the forehead, guilt pulsing in his blood for denying her the indulgence that she wanted to explore this new discovery. She stood, pressing her lips to his briefly in return.

The crown was a weight on her still, even if she had steadily grown accustomed to it. She loved being the queen. There was no doubt about that. But sometimes, like now, she hated having to choose her responsibility to her kingdom over satisfying her curiosity or exploring her freedom.

He remembered her saying once, what felt like eons ago and yesterday all at the same time, that her kingdom was just another set of shackles. He knew she didn’t feel that way anymore, that she loved her kingdom with her whole heart, that she would put it before anything else, even herself or her mate, but he felt guilty for reminding her of her responsibilities when she was so excited to be focused on something else.

Rowan found himself looking forward to the trip they’d planned for after their wedding ceremony, for the weeks she would get a break, and leave Aedion and her other advisors in charge or Terassen for a while. She needed the rest and the escape.

She sighed deeply, exaggeratedly, to cover her disappointment. “Alright. Let's go run this place.” She rolled her eyes. “Gods know that it would fall apart without me.” Rowan smiled slightly at the humor lacing her tone.

He held his arm out for her and she hooked her hand around it, her rings glinting in the light from the lamp.

Always one for accessories, she was wearing three rings on her left hand. The ring Rowan had gotten her for their wedding--once he proposed the idea of a full ceremony--was the most ornate, the bronze topaz stones winking like flames around the gold band, dark diamonds interspersed with light ones. All together, it was still only half as beautiful as her, but even Lorcan had admitted that it was a beautiful piece. Yrene had cooed over it with Aelin, and Lysandra had simply grinned at him, proud to have pointed him to the right jeweler.

Aelin adored it, which gave Rowan unending satisfaction. She cleaned it every few days, ensuring that its shine was as perfect as the day he'd given it to her.

Her other rings were slim golden bands from Eyllwe, given to her by one of Nehemia’s brothers. They were simple and unadorned, and had belonged to Aelin’s friend. The brother had given them to Aelin in memory of Nehemia, and as a token of friendship between their lands. Aelin had nearly cried when she'd unwrapped the silk they'd been passed to her in.

Now, Aelin fluttered her fingers a bit, eyeing the shine and sparkle from her jewelry. Rowan had a feeling it was more than just a vain gesture, although that wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibility either.

He kissed her cheek before leading her out of the study. She walked beside her mate, but dragged her feet a little. Rowan found himself tugging on her arm, reminding her that it wouldn't look good to make foreign dignitaries wait.

“Oh, please. It's Ansel’s people. Remember when she sent us a mule as her ‘diplomat’?”

The king hummed in thought. “I think that ass was the easiest to work with out of all the ambassadors that she's sent.”

He was rewarded with Aelin’s laughter as she leaned more heavily against him, tipping her head back and letting her hair fall down her back.

“Gods, I love you,” she breathed. Rowan kissed her again, slowing their steps as they got closer to the throne room where the guests waited.

“And, love, when I said that, I was including Ansel herself.”

Rowan pulled her through the doors while she was still laughing, her hand now wrapped around his upper arm.

Three heads swung towards her laughter as the door opened. Aelin shook off the laughter and released her husband to move forward, greeting them with a somewhat pleasant smile. And so the politics began. 

“Welcome to Terrasen,” she greeted. “I trust you had a pleasant journey?”

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #tog #tog fanfiction #fanfiction #Who else literally just KNOWS that Ansel and Aelin would be the best political rivals/allies #Becuase they would #Aelin would literally have the same political relationship with dorian #and manon #and literally everyone who am i kidding she'd never be proper

[sopewriters]

The Crown: Part III

Previous Parts: Part I  Part II 

Genre: Drama; Angst

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader; Jeongguk x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k 

A Way to the Heart

17th September, 1685

“Rise and shine, Princess.” Jeongguk wastes no time in pulling the covers off you as you groggily wake up, hands rubbing at your sleepy eyes. “It’s the day of your coronation.”

You can see his lips curving upwards into a smile at your distasteful look, as you get off the bed, going to the bathroom to freshen up. Your handmaidens have already had your clothes prepared the night before and stand ready to help you get dressed. After finishing the basics, you expect to find Jeongguk gone for your privacy to dress, but instead find him lounging comfortably on a chair; eliciting a glare from you.

“Are you planning on staying here or letting me get dressed?” You spit out the words in annoyance, raising your eyebrow at him and in response to your question, you see him smile cheekily.

“Well, you are my wife, aren’t you?” He chides, crossing one of his legs over the knee of the other, looking cockily at you, “Surely you wouldn’t have a problem with getting dressed in front of me, now would you?”

You want to yell at him to get out but you know that each word of yours, each action will be reported back to his mother by your handmaidens, and you cannot have that. If she were to know that you both have still not been intimate, she, along with the rest of the court, would begin to pressure him for an heir. And you definitely do not want that.

“Do as you will.” You remark nonchalantly, lifting your dress up and pulling it over your head before discarding it on the floor.

Your handmaiden then hands you a fresh chemise to put on and you take it calmly, not letting any of your impatience or annoyance seep through you. Once you put it on, you are then clothed in the royal dress robes designed especially for the ceremony. Though the shade was called a regal red, you’d much rather have preferred it to have been white instead.

You can see his eyes grow wide, even at the short-lived sight of your bare skin, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard at the mere memory of the view and suddenly, you come to a realization.

If you have not been intimate with him and, from the absence of rumors going about the court, neither does he have a mistress, that would only mean he must be beyond frustrated by the pent-up stress. And you smile to yourself proudly, knowing that you are already making things hard for him both literally and figuratively.

Once you have finished dressing, he escorts you to the church with his hand holding yours firmly and fingers interlocking. You would’ve mistaken it for an intimate gesture if you didn’t know that it was all a show being put on for the people so that their love and loyalty for the royal couple would remain strong. It was the only reason why he chose to marry you despite knowing what had passed between you and Yoongi.

As you walk down the aisle of the same church you were married in and kneel on the carpeted marble in front of God, you recall Yoongi’s coronation.

You had been standing in the front row, eyes gleaming with excitement and a shy smile plastered permanently onto your face as the Archbishop anointed him with the holy oil. You bowed down to him when the crowds of people began yelling ‘God Save the King’. You remember distinctly how pleased the nobles had been, how they’d said that it was Yoongi who would bring peace to the nation. You remember how he had promised you that one day, you’d be walking down the same aisle, that you would be his Queen.

Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

It has been almost a month since his passing and not a day has gone by that you didn’t miss his presence, his touch and his warmth. The bright future that you pictured with the man you loved has now been replaced by a living nightmare that haunts your every living moment. Forcing you to sleep in the same bed as the man who murdered your love. But, they haven’t broken your spirit yet. No.

As the Archbishop places the crown above your head, anoints you with the holy oil and hands you the royal regalia, you remind yourself of your purpose once again. To help bring your brother on his rightful throne.

“God Save the Queen!” The Archbishop yells as you stand up, the royal robe hanging off your shoulders as you grip the staff and jewels tightly in your hand, steeling your nerves.

As you stand in front of so many people, all of them kneeling and proclaiming their loyalty to you, your determination only intensifies further. Your eyes drift to meet Jeongguk’s, his lips curving into a sly smirk and you grit your teeth in annoyance.

You will bring that man down to his knees and take everything that matters most to him. Just the way he did to you.

 After the coronation ceremony, you are led back to the palace, sitting beside Jeongguk in the throne room as the rest of the guests enjoy the shows being put on for them and indulge in the richest of wines and the finest of food. As the Queen, you’re however forced to listen to everything that your husband’s relatives have to say to you, flashing them fake smiles and mock laughter.

The only fortunate aspect about this wretched evening is that it has given you a chance to see your mother and speak with her of your brother and his plans.

“Your smile seems to be quite convincing.” She chuckles as you both slowly make your way to your chambers. “How does it feel? Having the crown atop your head?”

“It feels as though I’ve aged a thousand years.” You mutter in annoyance, hand rubbing at your forehead to ease your pain. “My face positively aches from the pain of having to force a smile at all of them.”

Before you step into your room however, you turn around to excuse your handmaidens, in order to give yourself and your mother some privacy. After all, you may have been crowned the Queen but their loyalties would still remain with the King’s Mother.

“You may go enjoy the party with your husbands, go on.” You smile softly to your handmaidens and you can see their faces light up in joy before running back to the hall. It’s a good thing that Mrs. Jeon didn’t assign you the brightest of her ladies.

“How is Taehyung doing?” You ask immediately after, shutting the door behind you and your mother takes a seat in one of the chairs before smiling widely at you.

“He is well. More than well.” You place yourself on the edge of the mattress and your mother digs out the letters she had hidden in her robes, “You aunt has arranged a marriage between him and the Princess of Scotland to build a strong alliance. In addition, he is also raising armies from other countries and hiring mercenaries. It will not be long before he is sitting on the throne.”

You hastily snatch the parchments from her grasp, reading them hurriedly and find every last word of your mother to be true and smile excitedly before hugging her in joy.

“But he needs your help.” She adds afterwards, sighing, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you pull back to look at her, “While he is gaining more supporters for his cause, Jeongguk is more than capable of keeping him at bay and he...he needs you to distract him.”

You heart drops at the implication of your mother’s words and you slump back onto the bed, groaning exasperatedly.

“You must help him ___, he is your brother. It is your duty.” She holds you harshly by your shoulders, shaking you as she tries to get the words to sink in and remind you of the seriousness of the situation you are in. “I know, my sweet girl, I know you hate him but you must do it for your brother. You must smelt iron into your blood if you are to be the Queen and lead your house to victory. The white rose must bloom in the country once more.”

You understand where her words are coming from and you also know that you must stay strong to your resolve but it only makes matters worse in your heart. How can you possibly show any sort of kindness or love to the man that murdered… no, slaughtered Yoongi?

But you nod nonetheless, knowing that it is your duty to do whatever you can, however you can to save your family and put its rightful heir back on the throne. Your feelings never mattered to her or to your brother. Right now, all you are is a tool to aid them in retaking the throne. Though it hurts you, you know that this has always been your way of life. To serve your family and help them succeed in their ambitions.

It didn’t matter if you hated Jeongguk or how much his touch against your skin revolted you. It didn’t matter how much you missed Yoongi, how many nights you spent crying, mourning his death, or how sometimes, you wanted to join Yoongi in his eternal sleep.

All that matters now is the Crown.

“Alright then. I will be leaving tonight to join him Burgundy and help him raise his army. I hope they have a child soon as well.” She helps you get up and takes you out of your chamber and back to the hall so that you may rejoin your husband, “Havin an heir will strengthen his claim further and flock others to our side.”

“Very well, mother. I shall… I shall try my best.” You whisper to her before bidding farewell and taking your seat beside your husband once again.

“Where were you?” Jeongguk asks, turning to your side and leaning over so that you may hear him clearer, “And where is your mother going?”

“We were in my room, talking, didn’t know I needed your permission to do that, Your Grace,” You instinctively give a snarky reply before remembering what your mother had just said. “She was merely telling me that she is travelling to Burgundy to visit her sister.”

He seems convinced of your answer and sits back comfortably in his seat, his hand once again finding yours and holding it softly while his thumb rubbed soft circles into the skin.

And with that you wonder how you might be able to love this man, or at least fake enough interest in him to distract him from the truth. But as he turns around to look at you with a sweet, albeit fake, fond smile, your heart falters for a moment before remembering all that he’s done.

You then wonder if your heart might even survive the turmoil of what’s to come.

15th September, 1685

“You want me to go where?” Jeongguk questions as he practices his archery in the garden, a round of applause sounding when he hit his target perfectly. Not that it surprised anyone at this point, Jeongguk has always had a penchant for war.  

“We merely want you to go through the country for a few days, visit the important cities and speak with some of the officials.” His mother answers, rolling her eyes at her son’s blatant display of bravado instead of discussing more important matters with his counsel.

“And what is the purpose of this except for wasting our money and my time?” He drops the bow, letting his servant pick it up and fetch the arrows, as he looks at his mother in annoyance.

“It is to show off your person, your rightful sovereignty.” She answers immediately, following behind her son as he walks back to the castle hastily.

“That’s it? I just parade through towns?” He asks, an incredulous tone lacing his voice. If the idea didn’t sound absolutely horrible to him at first, it certainly does now.

“The people need to see their new king with their own eyes.” Another counselor joins in, earning a resounding chorus of ‘yes’ from the rest of the counselors, “Though the wounds of the country are still healing, we must remind them of who their rightful ruler is.”

While Jeongguk still believes the idea to be rather tiresome, he can understand the reasoning behind it and the consequences it can have on the nation. So, he eventually agrees to it. But then there’s also the matter of whether he should bring you along, or leave you alone at the palace.

He settles for the latter for if you are to plot anything beforehand, it might be difficult for him to deal with both your constant grumbling and attack on his life.

18th September, 1685

You are walking through the gardens with your handmaidens when you first hear the news of the plague that has been going through the city, a messenger running to you and telling you of how people were dropping dead in the streets. There is no name for the disease yet but it is highly infectious. Though if it is treated immediately by a physician, it is not fatal.

After hearing all the news that the messenger had, you run back to the palace, searching for Jeongguk’s mother to speak to about this. You don’t care about the politics of the court for now, there are people dying in the streets and as their Queen, it is your duty to serve them.

“My Lady, the King’s mother,” You greet her in haste upon finding her, eliciting a look of annoyance from your improper bow and hurried words, “There is a plague, going about in the city.”

She reads the letter you had brought along with you from the messengers and exhales deeply in irritation. Unlike you, her heart is far more colder and even such horrific news of people dying out in the streets fails to elicit any empathy from her.

“We must provide some relief to the commoners or they will die.” You add immediately after and she raises her eyebrows at you questionably, before laughing in amusement.

“And how do you propose we do that?” She asks sarcastically, expecting you to not have an answer but as always, you have thought your plans through and are prepared with an answer.

“We can send out the royal doctors, any of the doctors who are here and we must give them gold to buy the necessary medicine.” You are already walking towards the treasury and she follows behind with a look of incredulity coloring her expression.

“The royal doctors are here for you, me and the rest of the nobility.” She grabs your arm and turns you around in fury just as you reach the guarded iron door of the treasury, “And you will not lay a hand on my gold.”

You immediately realize how she had referred to the gold in the treasury as hers, raising your eyebrows in disgust. You aren’t shocked though. After spending your time at the court, listening closely to everything and everyone, you know that the only reason she pushed for Jeongguk to be the King is so that she can take revenge on the Yorks.  

“It is not your gold. It is the King’s and I am his wife.” You tear your hand from his firm grip, looking back at her fiercely before turning to the guards, “I am the Queen and you will make way for me or I promise you, the King will not only make you, but your whole family pay for such treason.”

“Do not listen to her, she’s a madwoman.” Jeongguk’s mother counters and you can see that the guards are clearly listening to her instead of you. So much for being the Queen.

But this doesn’t stop you, not at all. It only forces you to be more… creative with your persuasion. So, you do what your mother had once done before to get what she wanted and lunge for one of the knives present on the guard’s belt.

“If you do not move,” You press the tip of your blade under your neck, not deep enough to cut but enough to make the people around you worried, “I promise you, I will kill myself and then you will no longer have the... ‘happy’ relationship between our two houses.”

“You’re lying. You wouldn’t do that to yourself.” His mother continues and you cut a line across your neck, a line of crimson appearing before slowly dripping down your skin.

“Is this enough proof for you or should I go on?” You question and at that the two guards open the door of the treasury for you and you smile victoriously at your mother-in-law. You have always hated losing and it never has suited you.

“Grab the biggest trunk you can find and follow me.” You command as the two men walk into the treasury, turning around as you go to look for more men to fetch, “We must get this into the city.”

Getting the royal doctors afterwards isn’t as difficult as they seem to be more easily persuaded with two guarded men by your side. You send the gold out in one of the carries led by one of the general’s as the one sitting inside tossed the coins out to the people while the doctors were taken into the homes of the affected.

Not being a doctor and thus of no help to the people, you decide to remain in the palace. Not that they would’ve let you out anyway. Being the Queen of the country, the guards would much rather die than have you contract a sickness and die at their hands.

2nd October, 1685

It’s the day when Jeongguk finally comes back from his journey through the country and while you sit in the throne room with absolute disinterest in his return, his mother cannot stop smiling. Smiling, not just at the prospect of seeing her son after so long, but also at the thought of your punishment for using the treasury so carelessly.

You, on the other hand, don’t care what he does to you. After all, what more can he take away from you that can be more painful that losing the one you had imagined spending the rest of your life with?

“The King is here.” The announcement echoes through the hall and he walks in with the most lavish of clothes adorning his well-built body, eliciting a bow from all the people present in the court, including you.

As you begin to stand up, you see him making his way towards you instead of his own throne, wrapping his hands around you and suddenly pulling back to kiss you fervently. You are so taken aback by the entire gesture that you remain frozen in place, not even fighting back as he presses his lips against you deeply. But you cannot find it in yourself to be mad at him as his mother eyes widen to look at the two of you in sheer shock. You may hate him beyond measure but it feels really good to finally win over his beloved mother.

“Thank you.” He gasps out the words and you turn to look at him questionably, wondering what he is thanking you for, but he ignores your expression and continues on, “Thank you so so much.”  

“W-Why?” You finally stutter out the words as he drags you back to your shared room, holding your hand tightly and interlocking your fingers.

“When I was coming back to the city, the people, they,” He speaks hurriedly in excitement, looking at you with a wide smile on his face, gleaming with joy. “They came to me and they all bowed down to me while saying ‘long live the king’ and praising me for my kindness.”

You pause in confusion, wondering why the people would do that when he has barely done a thing for them. But then you look back at your actions during the plague, when you had sent out the gold and the doctors. Instantly you realize where their sudden love for their new king was coming from and you feel a pang of guilt at your mistake.

You curse yourself internally, hating yourself for aiding his reign inadvertently and for undoing all your attempts so far at bringing your brother back on the throne.

“It’s so easy for you, isn’t it?” His question pulls you from your thoughts back to reality and you balk at him in utter bewilderment, “To get the people to love you?”

“You reap what you sow, Jeongguk.” You answer him candidly, taking a seat beside him, before reciting words that Yoongi once told you. “If you rule with fear, you’ll only get dissent and hatred in return.”

“My mother says the opposite.” He chuckles and you laugh a little at his response, letting slip a smile and he swears, he’s never seen a prettier sight. How is it that he’s never noticed just how beautiful you are until today? Maybe it’s because he rarely sees you smile.  

“You know, if we could truly rule together,” He turns to look at you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear before placing his palm on your cheek. “We could be a kingdom to be rivaled with.”

And as he stares at you wordlessly, taking in all of you that he can with his eyes before leaning in hesitantly to kiss you, you let him. Because although it was unintentional, you’ve found a way into his heart and you couldn’t let this opportunity slip past you. Not even if you too, are beginning to feel something in return for him even through the tangled mess of your emotions.

That night you write to your mother in Burgundy:

 Dear Mother,

Although my actions during the plague mustered support for his rule here, I have found a way to exert my will over him. To help us win. It won’t be long till your son-- till my brother-- is on the throne.

The Yorks shall rule England once more. And that, is a promise.

Written By: Admin Sangria~

Edited By: Admin Midnight <3 

Next Part: Part IV  Part V  Part VI

#kkreationsnet #bangtan bookclub #BangtanWriters-Net #kreativewritersnet #angstykpopnet #bts #bts angst #bts smut #bts jungkook #bts yoongi #bts jeon jungkook #bts min yoongi #bts series #bts jeongguk #bts suga #bts jeon jeongguk #bts drama

[parchment-and-petrichor]

Look, publishing community. We need to talk.

About ten years ago, you let the Twilight series take over the world, and with it, naive young girls’ belief that overly protective stalker boyfriends were something to strive for. Since the series’ completion, readers and moviegoers alike have vowed to do better. We hoped to put these toxic ideals behind us with every conversation we had about the problematic nature of Stephenie Meyer’s books. We hoped in doing so, we could finally move forward to read and support more wholesome, meaningful content.

Yet somehow, you chose to invest your money in Sarah J. Maas, and unleashed a whole new, far worse beast upon the world.

Why are we still letting toxic romances dominate the YA genre? Have we learned nothing from the likes of Meyer at all?

Let’s take a step back for a moment. As with her first series, Throne of Glass, Sarah J. Maas set out to write another fairy tale retelling in her latest A Court of Thorns and Roses series. By the time Mist and Fury begins, we’ve all but cast the Beauty and the Beast pretence to the wind. In perhaps the most dull first third of any novel, Feyre is suffering extreme depression and PTSD following the trauma incurred at Amarantha’s wrath. I am wholeheartedly here for portrayals of PTSD in YA. In fact, I encourage it. And given how much of a non-entity it is in Throne of Glass following Celaena’s pre-series traumas, this almost seems like an improvement on Maas’ part. But not when it goes on and on and on for 200 pages. Reading about any protagonist moping in self-pity is a 50-page deal at most. I get we’re supposed to see Feyre’s lack of self-worth at the start of this novel. I get that her trajectory is clearly one of her realising her value and gaining empowerment. Fine. But you can tell that story in 150 less pages. Believe me, as someone who has opened a novel with significant scenes of abuse and trauma, I know what it means to cut back. It pays to trust your reader and rein it in sometimes.

Which comes to one of the most blatant transgressions Maas commits: her lack of editing. Sure, at this point, she’s kind of well-known for her signature long sequels. But larger word counts do not good writing make. This novel could have easily been a solid 400 pages without the faffing about she does in the beginning.

There are some books that really excel in being split into distinct acts. Separating segments via setting or plot shifts can really solidify the narrative, but Maas’ acts can be separated out according to isolated moments sliding along a scale of boring, great, horrifying, and dire. Which is not what you want out of a narrative arc.

I actually thoroughly enjoyed the middle of this novel. For 200 pages, it seems like Maas has begun to atone for all her grievous harm done in her previous works. She introduces some interesting female characters for Feyre to befriend. The friend dynamic of Rhysand’s council is easily one of the strengths of the series and I wish she could have introduced them by the end of the first book. Amren in particular is a fascinating character, who, for a hot second, seems like she might kick some ass in a dark, ruthless, gory kind of way. She and Feyre have a great scene where they’re given permission to go out on a mission and be badass. I was excited to see where this would go and I looked forward to seeing these new battle sisters doing some serious damage together. Unfortunately, there are once more, long interludes where Amren keeps herself locked up, decoding things while the others go out and do the exciting stuff. Until the climax of the novel, the best, most dynamic addition to the cast has been shafted. As are all of the female characters in this series.

Here’s the thing.

For the most part, I like the girls in this book. At face value, they’re great. Nesta, Amren, Mor, and Feyre could all hold their own in battle as easily as they could all have a slumber-party style ki-ki over wine together. But the patriarchal world they’re placed in does no favours for them. Maas’ faerie world is build up by patriarchal traditions, where the men are led by their territorial, violent animal instincts:

“What’s normal?” I said.

… “The … frenzy … When a couple accepts the mating bond, it’s … overwhelming. Again, harkening back to the beasts we once were. Probably something about ensuring the female is impregnated. … Some couples don’t leave the house for a week. Males get so volatile that it can be dangerous for them to be in public, anyway. I’ve seen males of reason and education shatter a room because another male looked too long in their mate’s direction too soon after they’ve been mated.”

This hyper-masculine tradition also happens to heavily feature treating women like commodities they can use and throw away whenever they like. Rhysand, a character Maas tries so hard to pass off as a celebrated feminist, even tells Feyre in the heat of passion that, “I want you splayed out on the table like my own personal feast”. Every single one of Maas’ male characters, including, and especially Rhys, is a product of this tradition. But instead of engaging with commentary about how toxic such a worldview is, Maas just lets her characters carry on in this reality without consequence, self-awareness, or rebellion against it, as can be seen by Rhys’ explanation of women’s place in the kitchen, and Feyre’s subsequent acquiescence to that role as Rhys' partner:

“It’s an … important moment when a female offers her mate food. It goes back to whatever beasts we were a long, long time ago. But it still matters. The first time matters. Some mated pairs will make an occasion of it– throwing a party just so the female can formally offer her mate food … But it means that the female … accepts the bond.”

This old-fashioned, dare I say, archaic misogynistic ideal is just treated as the norm, effectively cementing every other male fantasy writer’s depiction of patriarchal societies as the ultimate world-building feature of the genre.

I don’t know what Maas is thinking, but whatever it is, it’s not cute.

Why are we still putting fantasies set in patriarchal worlds on such a high pedestal? It’s fantasy! What’s more, it’s 2017! You can’t tell me it’s more realistic to write a patriarchal society than literally any other kind in a fantasy world. When Maas, a woman writer creating her own world from scratch, has the chance to do whatever she wants, this is what she gives us?

One of the most horrifying scenes in A Court of Thorns and Roses (which is also shockingly overlooked) is Rhysand drugging Feyre and turning her into his slave whore without her consent. Maas sweeps this under the rug with a quick explanation that is all justified to a.) save Rhys’ fearsome reputation among the other realms, and b.) protect Feyre from the horrors of Amarantha’s kingdom. Just when I thought this particular plot was given its much needed closure (shut it down, Sarah. Shut it down right now!), the slave whore plot rears its ugly head again:

“I had heard the rumours, and I didn’t quite believe him.” [Keir’s] gaze settled on me, on my breasts, peaked through the folds of my dress, of my legs, spread wider than they’d been minutes before, and Rhys’ hand in dangerous territory. “But it seems true: Tamlin’s pet is now owned by another master.”

“You should see how I make her beg,” Rhys murmured, nudging my neck with his nose.

Keir clasped his hands behind his back. “I assume you brought her to make a statement.”

“You know everything I do is a statement.”

The only difference is, Feyre’s aware and consenting this time. Still, the skimpy dress and incredibly graphic touching on Rhys’ part all in the name of creating a diversion isn’t good enough to justify his actions. Rhysand’s created a thinly-veiled excuse to once again, objectify Feyre, touch her inappropriately in front of everyone, and lay claim to her when she’s not his to claim:

“Try not to let it go to your head.”

…I … said with midnight smoothness, “What?”

Rhys’ breath caressed my ear, the twin to the breath he’d brushed against it merely an hour ago in the skies. “That every male in here is contemplating what they’d be willing to give up in order to get that pretty, red mouth of yours on them.”

…His hand slid higher up my thigh, the proprietary touch of a male who knew he owned someone body and soul.

His eyes on the Steward, Rhys made vague nods every now and then. While his fingers continued their slow, steady stroking on my thighs, rising higher with every pass.

People were watching. Even as they drank and ate, even as some danced in small circles, people were watching. I was sitting in his lap, his own personal plaything, his every touch visible to them.

This isn’t romantic, this isn’t sexy, and it’s straight up not okay!

At what point did this series just turn into a horrific Princes Leia/Jabba the Hut smutfic? I know the only ones imagining what it might’ve been like had Leia been chained to Sexy McSexMachine instead of a giant blob are usually the pervy weirdos. Meaning no one in their right minds would want that mental image. Absolutely no one. In fact, the moment that image popped into my head, the final implosion of Rhys and Feyre’s sexual tension was made all the more cringe-worthy. There’s a reason Carrie Fisher spoke so strongly against Jabba and the gold bikini. She knew what it meant to be objectified, something Maas does not succeed in exploiting with Rhys’ choice to put Feyre in these skimpy outfits not once, but twice in this series. While yes, putting her in these outfits is ultimately a con-game, why should he be lauded for still playing by patriarchal rules in the first place? Shouldn’t the correct course of action be to break down those gender barriers?

All I have left to say about that is, I’m sorry, Sarah. You wrote that Leia/Jabba fanfiction. You made your bed. Now lie in it.

I suppose it’s about time to address the elephant in the room: Rhys. Oh boy… I don’t know how someone can pull together a character’s development so offensively, but Maas somehow wins the prize. He spends the entire first book as a lackey to the villain, doing the best he can to humiliate and emotionally manipulate Feyre. Now, we’re expected to believe he’s not only Feyre’s true love (oh, sorry… mate), but a feminist icon? I’m sorry. No. Did we already forget that he drugged her and made her dance for him in Leia’s gold bikini? It happened. I’m not about to let people forget it…

Readers fall all over themselves over him for coming to Feyre’s rescue when she begs to be saved from her wedding to Tamlin. On the surface, he’s set up to directly juxtapose Tamlin’s controlling over-protectiveness by letting Feyre do whatever she likes. Yet there’s still an unhealthy amount of Rhys manipulating situations in order to do what he feels is best for her. Not what Feyre thinks is best for herself, but what he thinks is best. Every single decision Feyre makes is based on Rhys’ influence. Nothing she does is for herself. By making Rhysand’s word law, Maas effectively strips Feyre of her agency, ironically, the one thing Rhys has attempted to help her regain in the first place.

What’s more, I don’t know who any of these characters are outside of their relation to Rhysand. They all revolve around him, because in Maas’ paraphrased words, he’s the most beautiful, powerful, strongest male in the kingdom. I honestly don’t need this overcompensation to make up for how toxic he is as a person. Not to mention, his male friends are nothing but carbon copies of him. Cassian and Azriel share his colouring and Ilyrian wings. I’ve seen plenty of fanart out there depicting the full cast of characters and I can never tell one male character from the another, nor one female character from another. The men (Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand) are handsome and dark haired, the women (Feyre, Nesta, Elain, and Mor), beautiful and blonde. Again, the only stand-out is Amren, who is woefully underrepresented and poorly used in the novel. When you have a white cookie cutter template for every character in your patriarchal world, you’ve gotta step outside your box to deliver some diversity at some point. Otherwise, everything’s just vanilla with a side of racism.

If you think Rhys is the only male character abusing women in this novel, you would be dead wrong. Every single female character in this series has an honestly triggering backstory involving rape, whether emotional or physical. This novel is undoubtedly the sort of thing that should come with a warning. I’ve seen copies with warnings that the series is not suitable for young readers on the back cover, but it’s both irresponsible to then market it as YA, and not discuss rape and abuse responsibly. In fact, given how frequently Maas uses the rape card and how non-existent any discourse concerning the consequences is, I’d say this is a dire case of romanticising rape. And I’m tired of seeing readers obsessing over series like these en masse. It's doing nothing but perpetuating rape culture.

Mor in particular has a brutal rape backstory. This is made all the more upsetting by how eager her father is to sell her off to the highest bidder, and her desperation to lose her virginity on her own terms:

“I wanted Cassian to be the one who did it. I wanted to choose … Rhys came back the next morning, and when he learned what had happened … He and Cassian … I’ve never seen them fight like that. Hopefully I never will again.I know Rhys wasn’t pissed about my virginity, but rather the danger that losing it had put me in. Azriel was even angrier about it–though he let Rhys do the walloping. They knew what my family would do for debasing myself.”

“I wanted my first time to be with one of the legendary Illyrian warriors. I wanted to lie with the greatest of Illyrian warriors, actually. And I’d taken one look at Cassian and known. … He just wants what he can’t have, and it’s irritated him for centuries that I walked away and never looked back.”

“Oh, it drives him insane,” Rhys said from behind me.

What’s worrying here is that while the men are praised for playing the patriarchal system to protect their women, female characters like Mor aren’t shown the same respect for protecting themselves. Mor’s entire character arc is punishment for her female sexuality, kept completely out of her control. Not once does a female character speak out against her sexual abuse, nor do they seek justice for it.

In a recent interview, Maas has stated that she only writes sex scenes if they further the plot. When literally everyone’s backstory hinges on sex, whether consensual or otherwise, I find that doubtful. If there’s one positive thing i’ll say about Maas, it’s that i’m glad she’s leading the charge for sex-positive female characters. But empowering are these characters really, when they’re defined by their desirability to men and their past sexual traumas? Sure, Feyre has sexual agency, but what else does she have? Especially in a patriarchal world where this is expected of her, and she doesn’t even use this “power” to her advantage…

Look, I’m glad Feyre’s getting pleasured the way she wants it, when she wants it, and the detailed depiction of her sexual stimulation might help girls become more aware of their own bodies and sexuality. But when this is the highest profile series featuring female sexuality in the YA market right now, what kind of example are we really setting here?

Feminism doesn’t begin and end with sexual expression. It’s more than that and Maas’ characters have to join that fight. Especially given it’s one of the highest selling fantasy series in the market right now. Sarah J. Maas is not the feminist role model we need for this generation of girls.

We need more than this.

In short, I’m absolutely shocked and appalled that so many people blindly gave this book 4 and 5 stars. Even those who acknowledge how problematic Maas’ writing is. Is it really worth overlooking blatant normalised rape culture to call something your favourite series? As I said from the outset, we’ve already been there with Twilight. An entire generation of girls fell head over heels for Edward Cullen, a 100+ year old stalker who dictated Bella Swan’s ever action and motivation. Now, here we are again, encouraging a new generation of teens to swoon over this sexy, emotionally manipulative product of rape culture, without any acknowledgement of the consequences.

We need to do better. Starting with readers. Starting with authors. Starting with publishers.

It’s time to hold ourselves accountable for the content we praise and allow kids to read. Because toxic masculinity and rape culture are not values to uphold. We live in a world where the President of the United States can brag about grabbing women by the pussy without recourse. Where old, white men are constantly dictating women’s reproductive rights. Where women are catcalled in the streets and victim blamed for the clothes they wear. Where girls can’t even go out at night on their own without the threat of sexual assault.

Is this really what we want to teach our daughters, sisters, students, friends? That it’s okay, to allow passing men to objectify us, just because they have power over us?

Listen, girls. This is the thing: men have power over us so long as we give it to them. So long as we keep laying down and accepting that we’re weak and in need of defending, they’ll keep doing it. And people like Sarah J. Maas will keep holding to those gender expectations. They’ll keep defining romantic ideals based on hyper-masculine overprotective, possessive men.

It’s up to us to redefine romantic ideals. To tear down toxic masculinity and uplift healthy, equal relationships based on mutual respect.

Because you’re worth so much more than that. You deserve better than Rhysand. Align yourself with people who value you for who you are and not just your body. Listen to them when they praise you for your talents. Accept their recommendations when they stumble across media showcasing aspirational women rising above the status quo. You are more than just an object holding a man’s attention. You are yourself and you deserve the world.

Look beyond the smokescreen of Sarah J. Maas’ works and aspire to be something more.

#sarah j. maas #acotar #acomaf #anti-acotar #anti-maas #fantasy #feminism #YA #young adult #toxic masculinity #female sexuality #rape culture

[envoutier]

OATH ☆彡 Part I

    b a k u g o u  x  f e m ! r e a d e r  / /  f a n t a s y ! a u

a/n: this was originally posted on wattpad but i barely ever use that so here you go, tumblr. ALSO, this has not been edited since literally february so i’m sorry if it’s trash. ALSO ALSO - do you guys prefer a second-person POV over a third-person one? please let me know so i can keep it in mind as i write more of this series!!

series masterlist

word count: 2,002

    ↳ in which the reader finds a mysterious creature in the woods.

  ~~~

         1  9   J  U  L  Y   1  5  7  .  .  .

     The sun rose slowly over the horizon, shining on every surface of the kingdom. It lit up the cobblestone paths and wooden single-floor houses. It gave life to the landscapes and soft hills. Even the grass glistened as the light reflected off of the morning dew. It served as a natural alarm clock for all species, including non-magical animals, as you could tell from the loud calls of the rooster that sounded every day near this time.

The people were up and about, preparing for yet another day of working, exchanging greetings with all the familiar faces. Among them shot a bullet, weaving through the crowd. A young woman, oddly dressed in robes much too thick for the current temperature. Who was in such a rush in the morning?

The town square was lined wall-to-wall in kiosks set up first-come first-served for the merchants every morning. The girl ran through the crowded marketplace, dodging customers and sellers advertising their wares, occasionally yelling out an “Excuse me!” or “Sorry!” after rushing past.

“What’re you up to today, (Y/N)?” called a rough voice to the sprinting figure. One person in town was able to recognize the girl despite her disguise, even if it is admittedly pretty lackluster. The young woman perked up upon hearing her name called and tugged her hood onto her shoulders. She skidded to a stop and sent a friendly wave to the orange-haired man.

“‘Morning, Mr. Maijima! I’m running an errand for the Court Apothecary. Collecting something-or-other in the woods just past the Lycen fields.”

The man grunted in response and said, “Tell your dad that the thing he asked for is finished.”

She hummed in thought for a moment. “Actually, I’ll just pick it up when I come back from this job later. Father is probably busy in the castle with all his knight training stuff.” All she got was a grunt and a nod before the man put on his helmet and disappeared into the forge. (Y/N) wasn’t bothered by his lack of response. This was very in-character for the town’s blacksmith and she’s long been used to his personality.

Before she was able to disappear back into her clothing, a pair of women noticed (Y/N) and bowed deeply. She smiled and waved her hand, signaling for the couple to raise their heads. “No, please relax. You needn’t bow to me.”

The woman shared a reluctant look before straightening up. (Y/N) felt uncomfortable being treated so formally by the villagers, at least when she’s in the village casually and not on royal business.

She didn’t really see herself as a princess anyway, since she wasn’t even in-line for the throne. That spot was reserved for her cousin.

She continued her marathon to the edge of the town to the forest. She paused on the bridge for a moment and waved to the people ferrying on the rowboats below her. (Y/N) loved watching the water in the canal. The canal connects everyone and everything in the kingdom together. The water, in general, always made her feel calm and happy. (Y/N) could watch and play in it for hours if she was allowed. She always dreamed of one day visiting the sea that she often hears about from travelers and in story books. She leaned over the rails of the bridge and saw herself staring back at her. (Y/N) giggled and flicked a pebble into the water, rippling and distorting her image.

She shook herself from the distraction and continued along the path to her destination. The faster she got this done, the earlier she could go home and do whatever she wanted. Hopefully. As long as her father didn’t send her out on another errand of his. (Y/N) absentmindedly strolled through the remaining rural parts of town, forgetting her earlier haste. She waved and send encouraging smiles and words to the farmers working the fields. She had no doubt that they had been doing so since long before she had even awoken in the morning.

The once tan and grey stoned path beneath (Y/N)’s feet transitioned into a narrow dirt road. She saw the beginnings of the large bed of trees’ canopy and began her sprint anew.

The outskirts of the forest consisted mainly of willow trees, drooping leaves covering whatever was inside from the outsiders’ sight. Behind the natural curtain, though, streams of light peaked through the spaces in the trees, ethereally lighting up the forest. The falling specks of dust and leaves resembled fireflies, and the whole forest seemed to be teeming with otherworldly life.

Entering the giant wood, (Y/N) slowed down, panting slightly. She reached into the bag slung across her body and pulled out a roll of parchment. She unraveled it and scanned the items listed. They were all basic herbs such as Chamomile flowers and ginseng. The court apothecary needed them for remedies for common wounds the knights got. Since those injuries were definitely due to her father’s training, that was likely the reason she was lumped with the work of finding the ingredients, (Y/N) laughed. Though, it’s not like he’s the one doing the work himself.

After committing at least the first half of the list to memory, (Y/N) readjusted her large, white gloves and began sifting through patches of grass.

Having done this several times before and the royal tutor making her study the topic of medicinal herbs for hours on end, the job of finding and collecting the ingredients wasn’t overly time-consuming. Soon enough, (Y/N) amassed a fairly large pile of plants next to her, each one categorized and tied together with string.

How many bundles of basil did I need…? (Y/N) thought to herself.

She was snapped out of her inner questioning by an unexpected sound. It was somewhere between a shrill and a high-pitched whimper. (Y/N) whipped her head around to where it sounded like the noise originated. It seemed like it was just past that large tree to her right. There usually weren’t many animals that hung around so close to the kingdom’s border. She waited a moment, expecting the noise to repeat. It didn’t.

(Y/N) carefully placed the bundles of all the herbs she’d collected so far into her bag. She reached into her thick, olive cloak and fished out a small, intricately crafted dagger from a sheath strapped to her side. As the daughter of the head of the kingdom’s military, there was no way she would go into the unknown wood unarmed, even if she was a woman. Why else would she be suffering in so many layers of clothing in the summer heat? At least if whatever made the sound attacked her, she would greatly decrease her chances of getting injured.

(Y/N) carefully stepped closer to the tall oak tree, hand clutching the dagger in front of her in a defensive position. She heard the whimper again. Her eyes trailed to a section of brush at the foot of the arboreal plant and approached once more. She lowered her arms as she lowered her body to the ground, sitting on her left knee. (Y/N) placed her dagger back into its casing, believing anything that sounded that hurt couldn’t instead try to hurt her. She grasped a leaf stem and quickly pulled the bush apart, exposing the creature within it.

Said creature shrieked again when he felt the light hit him. He attempted to scramble to his feet and ducked under another leaf, but hissed as he put weight onto his back foot. All he could do was squirm on the ground, barely moving a centimeter a second.

The small animal was covered in light blue, almost white, scaly skin. It was just about the length of (Y/N)’s arm, not including it’s long, spiked tail. It’s sharp claws dug into the dirt as it tried to alleviate the pain coming from its hind leg. But the biggest part, or rather, the most attention grabbing part..

(Y/N) could only stare in shock. That can’t be what I think it is. Is that…

Is that a dragon?

 ~~~

I mean, sure, it’s not nearly as big as I’ve seen it depicted in paintings, but that has to be a dragon, right? (Y/N) internally panicked. It has wings! And scales! Oh God, what do I do?!

(Y/N) paused. It finally occurs to her that the young dragon had been hurt and frantically pulls out a roll of gauze from her ever-handy satchel. She reached out to the animal in an attempt to wrap their left leg, but the dragon hisses at her. There’s no way he would trust a stranger enough to let them touch him.

(Y/N) automatically retracted her hands from the creature. “Sorry!” she exclaimed instinctively.

The dragon continued to glare at what he assumed to be a threat and tried to back away from the larger human. In doing so, he once again aggravated his injury and shrieked. (Y/N) flinched at how pained the animal sounded.

“Um…” (Y/N) hoped that dragons could understand humans’ common tongue, otherwise she was about to sound really dumb talking to herself. “I promise I’m not trying to hurt you. I can wrap your leg so you can’t move it around as much since it’s clearly paining you…” She trailed off when the dragon approached the roll of wound dressing that laid on the floor and inspected it.

He attempted to circle and investigate the roll of gauze as much as he could without actually moving his lower body. After looking back-and-forth from it to the human in front of him, he decidedly nudges the roll closer to the girl. He follows it and steps closer.

(Y/N) internally freaked out. Does this mean it wants me to do something? What if I try to touch it and it gets defensive again?!

The girl took a deep breath and gently and slowly reached toward the animal. He didn’t move or flinch back like she had expected him to. She interpreted this as a sign to continue and she expertly unraveled the gauze to dress the bleeding cut on the dragon’s leg.

Upon the gossamer making contact with his open wound, the dragon let out a loud cry once again.

“I’m sorry,” (Y/N) apologized again. “It’ll only hurt for a second.”

She set the dragon’s fully wrapped leg back onto the ground and advised, “I know I said it’ll help with the pain earlier, but still try to avoid putting a lot of weight onto your hind leg.”

She really hoped that this dragon understood what she was saying.

The dragon stood up shakily. He curiously poked at the fabric covering his leg.

“Ah, please don’t do that! It might irritate your injury again!”

He looked up the human that helped him. He waddled forward and nuzzled his feathered head against her arm in thanks. (Y/N) stared in shock. Just minutes ago, this very animal was baring it’s sharp, predatory fangs and her, but now he’s snuggling up next to her like a tame house cat. She swore she even heard it purring - or, at least, the dragon equivalent to that noise.

(Y/N) looked up, suddenly realizing how long it had been since she first left the village to collect the herbs. She abruptly stood up, separating herself and her newfound friend. Said creature nudged her foot with his snout and looked at her with curious eyes, wondering where she was going. She reached down and ruffled the feathers on his head. “I’ve been gone for a while. I need to head back and give these herbs back to the doctor.”

She opened up her satchel to double check that she collected all the ingredients she was sent out for when the dragon jumped up and landed inside her bag.

“Huh? What are you doing, buddy?” (Y/N) questioned. Her only response was the dragon turning and using the bundles of herbs as a nest to rest in. She sighed.

Okay, I guess I’m bringing a tiny dragon back to the castle with me.

 ~~~

    ↳ PART TWO

#bnha imagine #mha imagine #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #once in a blue moon lol #bnha #blasty mcsplode

[cometladyicarus-blog]

Swords and Children - Alistair and Cailan pt.2

Here’s a part two I wrote, set firmly in the game’s timespan, though it’s also a multi-warden, more obvious than part 1.

Same, late arriving spoilers. Pre-Landsmeet, during/after Return to Ostagar.

Shameless with CouslandxAlistair shipping once again. They’re one of my OTPs.

Part One Rewritten

Original Part One

Part Two - Here!

Part Three

They walked through the snow of the ruins, the others splitting up to mourn over the dead, or to contemplate where tents once stood.

Elissa was sobbing out where the main camp was over a Cousland banner, her Mabari hound howling with her. Her grieving was the loudest, though Solona was spending a long time over the armor pieces of a Templar that didn't match the kinds he saw Templars wear in Ferelden.

He stood before the King's tent, or where it once stood, and looked at the wooden chest that was scarred from just being in a battlefield. He knelt and gave the lock a tug, all that was needed to break the lock.

Inside were letters. Letters to the Emperess, letters to Highever, letters to the Arlings, to the Teyrn of the South Reach, to the Grand Cleric in Denerim. He paused as he found at the bottom of the chest two bundles of letters. One marked "To Father".

The other marked with words that froze his chilled hands.

"To my little brother, Prince Alistair Theirin, Ward of Arl Eamon of Redcliffe"

As he looked through the bundle of letters with his name, he found his name shifting somewhat. "Prince Alistair Theirin, Knight of the Chantry", "Prince Alistair Theirin, Knight of the Chantry, and his bride Pioup Elissa Cousland", back to “Prince Alistair, Knight of the Chantry” "Grey Warden Alistair Theirin, Prince of Ferelden".

"Clever bastard." He tucked the bundle into a pocket of his tunic under the heavy plates. The rest he picked up and carried. At the dwarven princess' raised eyebrow he shrugged. "Letters from the King. If I learned anything from you and your politics underground, I learned that letters are valuable. And that you’re a nightmare to your brother with the ultimate debt he owes you."

She laughed. "Your lady is running the risk of drawing darkspawn back here, and she's the one who wanted to be sure we searched this area for proof Loghain's a traitor."

They burned Cailan's body, a vision he personally dreaded. They recovered Duncan's sword and dagger, and killed the ogre who still had them buried in its back. They recovered the golden king's armor and carried it in the chest that held the letters, now minus the letters to him still tucked away on his person.

That night as those who had been to Ostagar spent the evening in silence, breaking it only to announce the change of shifts or to snore, he sat by the fire, reading the letters he pulled out of his tunic.

"Little brother,

"I met you for the first time in my life today, and I wish I could lift you into my arms and loudly declare you as my little brother. Our father was very annoyed with me when I asked him why he didn't just claim you and bring you to court with us. He said something about a promise to your mother about keeping you away from court as long as possible.

"But you are still my little brother, and I vowed to myself and Maker that I would make sure you would be given the opportunity to live your dreams. Part of me envies you your freedom from court, but I worry that if something were to happen to me...

"I spoke with Uncle Eamon about you after Aunt Isolde put Connor to bed, and he had mentioned that a couple years ago the Couslands had suggested pairing you with their daughter Pioup – though I'm given to understand that she hates that name and would much prefer being called my her second name of Elissa. I met the young lady today, and after I met you earlier this afternoon, I decided to try and convince Eamon that the match would be a good one. She's like you, a dreamer. I really think you would like her.

"Until the next letter, little brother,

"Your older brother, Prince Cailan."

He smiled at that letter, and the several subsequent letters written to him, all trying to convince him of Elissa's positive features. Other parts of those letters included parts of lessons on how to be a king, as Cailan was being instructed by their father.

"Little brother,

"I heard Aunt Isolde pressured Uncle Eamon into sending you to the Chantry. I tried to convince our father that he should at least help dispel those rumors of your being my cousin, but he's being stubborn about the whole subject."

He skimmed over those parts, smiling when Cailan shifted from their father to Anora, or antics of the court by the nobles.

"Little brother,

"Congratulations on starting your training to be a Templar Knight."

He wondered how Cailan was able to keep such close tabs on him, or how much of a 'secret bastard' he was if court was mostly filled with the closer friends of the king, and several seemed to know about him anyway. He also wondered how in Thedas Isolde thought he was Eamon's bastard if he was such an open secret. Or maybe he wasn't as much an open secret?  

He skimmed through more letters, his ears burning as Cailan offered advice on how to make his future wife enjoy being in the bedroom with him. Maker, he thought he was bad at the innuendo with the lamppost line he used on Elissa, apparently it was a curse in the blood considering the terrible innuendo Cailan wrote. Cures for bent reeds and how to make a rose bloom? His face turned red.

Alistair slowed his reading as the letters got closer to the Battle's date.

"Little brother,

"I should stop calling you my 'little' brother, shouldn't I? We're the same height now, aren't we. It was nice to see you in person again. I do hope your betrothal being broken off from joining the Grey Wardens didn't end badly. Loghain still tries to convince me that Uncle Eamon would use you to usurp the throne or something, but he's been growing more and more paranoid with every week, I swear.

"Just the other day, he accused me of opening my arms to welcome back our former Orlesian overlords. I had only welcomed the Grey Wardens. But Loghain is still the best battle tactician in Ferelden, so I have to try and appease him.

"I look forward to being back home in Anora's arms, however. But I have to lead by example. If the troops see me pining for home, and doubting our chances at victory, then they will also lose hope. It's amazing what people can do when they believe their chances at victory are better than they are. That was a lesson our father taught me, and I think I wrote – yes I did. I wrote to you about it.

"But I think you already know the power of other people's perception. I worry that it is a trait we Theirins are doomed to share now – to be the bearers of good cheer, even if we do not feel it.

"I wish our father were here though. I can see it now, he'd grin and clap a hand to your shoulder to welcome you to Ostagar, and with Loghain, Rendon, Bryce, Uncle Eamon, and Teagan, they would plan out some brilliant battleplan the Wardens could alter as they would need, and we'd all be going home with tales of how the archdemon was slain by mere mortals. He had a way of keeping the paranoia Loghain would speak of in check.

"It was good to see you, and to see you live your dream.

"Until the next letter, Ali – nope, sorry, little brother,

"Your older brother, King Cailan."

The last one was dated the night of the Battle. His hands shook as he read by the campfire.

"Younger – nope, sorry again, I just can't not write it down, Little brother,

"Well, your betrothed is a Warden recruit as well. If she should pass, I fear you will need her. I like your fellow Wardens, even the other new recruits, very much, and am glad none of them seem to be in Loghain's pockets. I believe Loghain means to have me killed soon.

"You will need Elissa to secure the Bannorn if I should die tonight. Loghain will do whatever he can to discredit you and the Wardens. If the Bannorn will not take Eamon's words that you are my brother, present these letters, no matter how embarrassing, like that one letter of 'Big Brotherly Advice' I wrote while half drunk. Or just flaming smile, our father was quite skilled at making us into his copies, after all. How anyone could fail to see the resemblance is beyond me.

"I know the others think me a fool and a child playing at being a King, but if this is truly the night the Blight ends, then I have served my country and people. If this night ends with my death and the Blight goes on, then all I can do is beg that you protect Ferelden in my place. Anora is a kind woman, and a good ruler, but she will always give way to Loghain.

"Ferelden is not strong enough to fight an invasion from Orlais should he anger them too much, and I know Grey Wardens do not get involved, but stopping an Orlesian invasion summoned by Loghain's madness would only allow for Ferelden to recover from this Blight."

"Until the next letter, my little brother,

Your older brother, King Cailan."

He looked up to the sky after he folded the letters back up and rebound them to be stored somewhere once more.

"You never came to me and called me your brother, but you wrote to me and called me your brother in writing." He frowned as he recalled one night in the weeks, - or was it over a month - before the Battle.

"So, here we stand, together as brothers."

He was certain he heard the cheerful King wrongly, why would he claim him as his brother now? "Pardon, your Majesty?"

Cailan had given him an odd look before breaking into a charming smile. "Brothers-in-arms against the darkspawn. Defenders of Ferelden. All of us, from Kings and Teyrns and mages to the foot soldiers, medics, and even the servants and Chantry."

"Right." He had nodded and resumed looking over the Wilds trying to pinpoint where he could feel the taint of the Darkspawn and where the enemy was moving around. It was better than the dreams that would wake him from time to time.

The King stood watch with him that shift. That was when he thought he knew why the people loved Cailan.

"You're an asshole and a bastard, Cailan." He smiled and shook his head.

In the morning he suggested they head for Denerim and the Landsmeet. Elissa grinned and gestured for him to lead the way.

Cailan wanted him to defend Ferelden, Duncan wanted him to fight the darkspawn and to be happy. Anora would be displeased about her father being dead by the end, but, by the Maker, Loghain abandoned his king and made to ruin the battleplan by not securing the Tower and just assuming it was fine after ages of disuse. And if the former Queen made too much of a fuss, he could just send her to Gwarren. Or Elissa could find a way to phrase it to sound like a better idea for her.

He could, no, he will, be king. And the Blight will be stopped.

He looked to see Elissa pack up the tents, the rose he convinced Solona to use magic on and make the rose last forever within a layer of glass was woven into the braids of her snow colored hair. The rose was finer than any crown or tiara, he decided.

Eamon was right, he had a duty to Ferelden. And she’d feel obligated to care for Highever until they found her brother, or had to give him up for dead and she would still be left ruling the Teyrn.

Ferelden was his responsibility.

He was Prince Alistair Theirin, and with Lady or Teyrna Elissa Cousland at his side, they could fulfill their duties as Warden and royalty.

Ferelden is his.

#alistair theirin #Alistair #cailan theirin #royal bastard #clever asshole #To Be A King #Dragon Age #letters from the dead

[sartle-blog]

The Crown Season 2: Royal Romances in Art History!

#queen elizabeth ii #the crown #netflix #british royalty #royal family #art #art history #history #royals #royalty #Madame de Pompadour #french royalty #american royalty #pop culture #serious art history #scandal