#and she's so wound up she's pacing by the pond when he finally arrives

[softquietsteadylove]

Could we get a little something something from My Kingdom for a Heart fic that’s on ao3? Idc if it’s fluff or angst I’ll literally take anything you give out bc it’s just that good!!

Sersi was spinning around the floor with Ikaris, her veil whirling around her, sparkling silver against her emerald green gown. She always had a certain joy to her, of course. But even Thena had not seen her beaming so fully in all their lives together. It was exactly the kind of free, unburdened smile she had always wished for her sister.

To marry without obligation was the best gift Thena could pass on to her sister, and that included abdicating the throne as the eldest and making Sersi the acting queen. Thena had some reservations about the marriage in question being to Ikaris, but she had to admit, he was not so villainous. Annoying, perhaps, but that was a lesser of evils.

He was her brother now, and while she felt she was truly understanding the petulance a brother could bring to her life, their families - and kingdoms - were becoming one. Unfortunately, he still liked to argue with some of the advice she had to offer (as the royal advisor). But Sersi was always quick to hear out her sister, and that usually managed to pull her new husband along with her.

"It is a beautiful ball, your Grace."

Much to her disappointment, it was not the one she was expecting, but rather some lord or another. She did not know why he was saying so to her. She had not planned it alone, nor was she truly participating in it, past being the one who had walked Sersi down the aisle to her groom. "It is."

"Congratulations, to you and to the happy couple."

"Indeed," she muttered. She was no longer the princess and regent, she was merely Sersi's second in line, and that came after her job as advisor, as far as Thena was concerned.

"You look splendid as well, of course."

He was wearing on her patience, of course.

"I should almost think it possible for you to steal the attention away from the bride herself."

"My Lord," Thena drawled, keeping her eyes on her sister, "I should think that you would rather not insult my dearest sister in the process of attempting to compliment me."

"I-I-" he stammered, "I would never-"

Thena moved away from him. She no longer held the power to send people away with the flick of her wrist--truly the only part of her position she truly mourned. The crowd cheered for the guests of honour, concluding another of many dances this evening. Thena smiled.

"Your Grace!"

Was tonight destined to be a gauntlet through which she was to battle?

"Congratulations on your sister's happy marriage, your Grace," another lord bowed to her formally at least. "The kingdom could not be happier for the Prince and his bride."

Sersi would make a wonderful queen. "I shall tell them."

"It does free you, does it not?" he continued, perhaps not catching onto her locked tight posture and cold eyes. "Without expectation to marry the Prince, you are more able to select a husband of your choosing. Perhaps even a love match?"

Thena looked at the brazen lord speaking to her without end. He was younger than she had expected, his hair sitting atop his head with as much arrogance as he exuded in his smile. "Do you have a matter that concerns you, my Lord?"

"Perhaps," he grinned at her, and it made her want to take a long step back from him. He held out his hand to her, "if you would do me the honour-"

"Forgive me, my Lord, but her Grace has other obligations."

Thena's eyes rose, and she failed to contain her pleasure at the sight of her rescuer. "Captain, if you would be so kind as to escort me."

"Of course, your Grace," he smiled back at her as a gentleman would. He even removed his leather glove before offering his hand to her. He stood between her and the man asking to dance with her, turning his back - unthinkably rude! - on him in the process.

"Thank you," Thena murmured as they made their escape, descending the steps closer to the thrones and skirting around the crowd. "I can no longer decline such invitations without good reason."

"I would think that not wanting to listen to him preen himself is reason enough."

Thena attempted to keep her laughter contained, but a faint puff of air escaped her. She held the skirt of her dress in the hand that was not perched in Gil's. "You have rescued me yet again, Captain."

"It is part of my job," he stated, although the royal advisor was not technically part of his obligations as royal guard. He winked at her, "Thena."

She smiled down at the lush carpet beneath their feet. If her hands were free they would be wringing around themselves again and again. The Captain continued to have such effect on her, and her poor, suffering heart. "I keep telling you, it is not."

"And I keep telling you: you will always be Princess, to me."

How was she to think clearly when she had such poetry over her shoulder, no less whispering in her ear?

"Would you like to?"

"To what?" she looked up at him.

He nodded his head towards where Ikaris was claiming another dance with his bride, even wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off the ground in their shared glee. "Dance?"

Her hand flinched in his, while the one holding her dress began squeezing it for her life. Her throat dried. "I'm afraid I have not nearly the grace my sister does, Captain."

"Come on," he whispered to her, even coming to a stop at a small gap in the crowd's observation of the bride and groom. "I thought we had a deal."

Thena's eyes darted up to him and then forward again. Her heart flitted and fluttered in her chest as she sighed, "Gil."

He stood straight, his hand behind his back and the other holding hers aloft. "It is a celebration, y'know. No one would think twice about you having a little fun at your own sister's wedding."

She could feel how warm he was next to her, even with his light chest plate over his formal uniform. Her fingers trembled faintly, but he held her steadily. "I suppose your gallantry should not go unrewarded."

She winced at herself, and her need to make the simple act of a dance something obligatory. Why could she not simply say that she did wish to dance with him?

Because that would be far too damning an admission, and far too revealing for one simple dance.

But Gilgamesh just smiled at her as he always did. He moved slowly, grasping her hand as he took the first step out from the edge of the crowd, "I'm honoured."

Thena forced herself to look up at him as he swept her onto the dance floor. It wasn't that moving with him was unfamiliar, or even awkward. It felt like when he had helped her from the wagon by lifting her delicately by the waist.

If anything, it felt too familiar, and perhaps even too...nice. He was warm, and gentle, and if he were not wearing the pauldron of his armour, she had half a mind to slip her hand up to his shoulder. His hand grasped hers out from them, the other on her back in a proper and appropriate position.

"So, have you thought about it?"

"Hm?" she blinked, betrayed by her mind wandering away from her actions and instead meandering along the subject of her dance partner.

"Marriage."

The royal advisor's cheeks took on a lively rouge as he spun them around with ease. This was not the first time they had discussed such a topic, either. And remembering the last time they had never failed to send her heart into a frenzy.

Somewhere behind them, Sersi also spun past amidst her dance with her husband. Her sister's giggling reached her ears, worsening Thena's feeling of fluster. Sersi knew very well that the subject of marriage - when it involved the Captain - always left her feeling stymied.

"I," Thena started and then paused immediately. Her mastery of language was slipping from her mind. Her eyes slid down his chestplate to the crest of the kingdom sitting right in the centre. Her hand twitched in his again, "I have...considered it."

At her own insistence, her marriage simply had to wait. As soon as she had abdicated, there was little time until Sersi's coronation and the wedding happening right on top of each other. And she and Gilgamesh were at their busiest when Sersi and Ikaris were.

There was no time to consider Gilgamesh's proposal of a proposal, as it were. And a man of his word, he had not brought it up amidst all the chaos of things. But he was asking now. As she had told him, he was asking if he could ask her again.

"And?" he prompted her gently--sweetly. He ducked his head closer to hers, moving closer in their dance to a proximity one could consider salacious. "If I were to ask you, would you say yes?"

Thena tried to keep her breathing even. She felt as if she were drowning in him, and she did not fully want to emerge from it. But she forced herself to keep her face from burying itself against his neck. "Your timing could be improved, Captain."

"Oh?" he chuckled, still in good spirits as she dodged his approach to marrying her yet again. "And how is that?"

Thena closed her eyes, trying to concentrate, and unable to do so while she thought people might be observing them acting so improperly. All she needed do was turn her head for her lips to graze his cheek or perhaps even his ear (indecent!). She gulped. "It is my sister's wedding day, Gil. This is no time for you to be asking for my hand."

"I daresay she would approve."

Sersi would be the first to jump for joy. She would also point right at Thena and say that she had said so long beforehand.

"I will not become engaged on the day of my sister's wedding," Thena resolved with a bit of a huff. "Have you no sense of propriety?"

On the contrary, it was mortifyingly she who was breaths away from pressing her forehead under his jaw just to feel the warmth of his skin.

"Forgive me, your Grace." She knew he was smirking--she just knew it. "Shall I ask again tomorrow, then?"

Thena's heart pounded. He hadn't asked in the exact words, but her whole body felt flush with warmth and thrill all the same. The warmth did not drain from her cheeks as she gripped his hand purposefully with her fingers. "I will be at the garden pond at first light. I expect you will not keep me waiting."

As she had done to him.

His hand squeezed hers, and he even dared to weave their fingers together (the absolute audacity). He tilted his head, disguising the way he touched his cheek to the top of her head, no longer weighed down by a golden circlet. "I wouldn't dream of it, Thena."

#Thenamesh AU #I loved this fic so thank you so much!!! #listen they're very busy #Thena is royal advisor and has to be attached to Ikaris and Sersi at all times #mostly Sersi but still #she's always advising them #in every meeting and plan #the coronation and proposal happen literally the same week #the wedding happens no more than three weeks later #it's old times shit's gotta happen fast #Ikaris and Sersi do tours of the kingdom in celebration #Thena travels with them and Gil guards them all #some might think it odd how the captain of the royal guard hovers around the advisor rather than his king and queen #some whisper about seeing his hand on the advisor's back to steady her #he stands aside when the king and queen get out of their carriage but he holds his hand out for the advisor to use when it's her turn #it's about the pining!!!!! #anyway Thena has been avoiding it because she doesn't know if she's ready #because there's no question that she's in love with Gil #she doesn't sleep at all that night #and she's so wound up she's pacing by the pond when he finally arrives

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

General Hux x Female Reader/Kylo Ren x Female Reader

A/N: I have been sitting on this chapter for so long I know @daydreamsofren is not looking forward to this one even though she’s read some of it already 😢

Warnings: Implied abuse, don’t judge Hux too harshly, Kylo knows more than he lets on. Many, many people die.

Word Count: 3195

Read Chapter 17 here on AO3.

Judging by the amount of meals you’d been served, you had been in this dank cell for two weeks. Either they didn’t know what to do with you or they had forgotten you, leaving your shivering form in the bowels of the ship to rot. No one had stopped by, everytime the door opened, hope flared that it was Hux, even Kylo but it was always just a trooper holding a tray of food or a quick trip to the shower, until today.

The troopers roughly grabbed you from the corner in your cell. You resisted until one raised his hand to strike you across the face, cowering, your eyes closed, you waited for the pain but it never came.

“Think about where we’re taking her.” You cracked your eye open to see the trooper drop his hand, the other one half body blocking you. “She may be a treasonous bitch but there’s nothing to stop the Grand Marshal from killing us if we lay a hand on her.” He stooped down and hauled you up by your arm. “She will cooperate.” You winced at the right grip he had on your arm. “Right?” You nodded slightly as hope surged through you.

Were they taking you to see Armitage?

Has some information come to light?

Maybe some evidence to help clear your name?

Your feet skimmed the floor in uneven steps as the troopers dragged you through the ship, the cuffs binding your wrists were unforgiving against your skin but you took the hurt. Your excitement grew the closer you got to the bridge, officers, admirals and lieutenants littered the corridors all speaking in hushed tones as you were dragged passed but the spark of hope burned brightly inside you. If you could just see Armitage’s face you’d know what fate awaited you.

You were thrown onto the floor at their feet, Kylo Ren had his mask on, barely casting a glance in your direction but you didn’t care about him. Your attention was solely on Armitage, his overcoat hid his body but you could see from the tension in his neck and the way he ignored the sound of you falling to the floor that this wasn’t good.

A blue holo-image of General Pryde was standing before them, a knowing smirk on his face as he cast a glance in Hux’s direction at your undignified arrival. You wanted to spit at the man’s feet, knowing what he’d done to your husband all those years ago but you didn’t dare. If only you’d known before, maybe if you survived this you could finally tell him what you really thought of him.

“We are ready, Allegiant General Pryde.” Rumbled Kylo from his mask. “You may begin.” The blue image paced to the left and he shouted an order to prime the cannon, now your gaze was drawn to the planet that loomed below you. The permanent grey clouds roiled across the surface, the rich green land and the deep blue seas hidden beneath the thick blanket of weather, but you knew it was there. This was Arkanis, your home planet, Hux’s home planet.

You flinched as Kylo moved, stepping behind Hux to haul you to your feet, the cuffs falling away to your surprise. His mask dipped to your eye level, the black sightless pits seemingly boring into your soul and you tried not to shiver at the feeling.

“Behave.” His grip on your sore wrist emphasised his command and you gave a single nod in understanding. He dragged you to stand next to Hux and you sneaked a look at your husband's face. He was wearing a blank expression, his eyes glassed over as though he was bored with this whole show but you saw the muscle twitch in his cheek, the subtle flex of his jaw and you knew he was stressed. Maybe seeing Arkanis again was enough to bring this reaction out of him, but you got the sense something else was at play here. The amount of personnel on the bridge made you slightly nervous, you’d never seen it so busy before. Mitaka stood rigidly to the side, his gaze sliding over you like you weren’t even there.

Kylo pointed and your gaze followed the line of his arm seeing another destroyer in orbit next to the Finalizer, the resurgent-class ship was facing the planet, a huge axial super-laser cannon nestled on the underbelly started to glow and your gaze flitted to the holo image of General Pryde. Horror dawned on you as soon as the word “Fire” left his mouth and without thinking your hand snatched Hux's in a tight grip. The shots flew from the gun, firing with extreme accuracy and power, penetrating the surface of your homeworld.

The reaction was slow, the wound in the crust ripped at an agonising pace from up here, debris rose high into the atmosphere, the red lava from the centre of the planet was evident through the clouds and you blinked tears out of your eyes at the sight. All those people, your people. No warning, an entire planet eradicated before you, a planet whose allegiance was to the First Order. You felt Armitage’s fingers close around yours and a slight gasp escaped you at the sensation. It felt like your entire life was being wiped before your very eyes, your history, your home, friends, family, everything that had made you was burning away.

“Isn’t it glorious?” Someone mumbled and you wanted to whip round and say something scathing but Hux’s hand tightened even more around yours in warning. You couldn’t help the soft sob that made your chest heave, your gaze pulling away from the destruction to look at your husband. The reflection of the growing fireball highlighted in his eyes, his mouth set in a hard line as he tried desperately not to react. You looked down at your feet before turning to look up at Kylo, his mask turning to see your tear stained face and you wished you could see his face. Just this once, so you could read his emotions, but all he did was tilt his head towards the spectacle that everyone else was watching with a sick sense of awe.

Memories echo at the back of your mind, the sound of the Arkanis rain on the leaves, the rippling water on the pond you had stood next to when you first met Armitage. The house you had grown up in ringing with your childhood laughter, your mother’s grave, your friend's wedding, all blown out of existence. A blinding light made you inhale sharply as the planet began to collapse, the surface in burning turmoil until it became so unstable it finally exploded. You hoped the debris that was left would knock into the ships and kill everyone but they were too far away, the shields protecting them from any that did make it and they were out of the gravitational pull of the destroyed planet.

You closed your eyes, the tears still falling unchecked as the intense light of your dying world shone through your eyelids. You went to lean against Armitage, curling your other hand around his arm to seek some comfort for you and him but he moved, his hand untangling from yours as he went to check on the status of his ship leaving you standing alone. You heard General Pryde chuckle and anger blazed through you, your eyes fixed on the smirking form and you went to take a step forward, your mouth open to unleash your fury but a pressure started in your throat making you pause. You could still breathe, but the blockage rendered you speechless, you turned your fury onto Kylo but he just regarded you coolly from the protection of his mask.

“Take her back to her cell.” He commanded with indifference. The troopers grabbed you giving you no choice but to leave, making you realise this had been a show to get to you and Armitage. To make you realise that now you had nowhere to go, no homeworld to run to, no support system to hide you, in this vast Galaxy you and your husband were now more alone than you had ever been before.

You wanted to lean on him and let him lean on you, but that would never happen. He had made up his mind about you, he had what he wanted with his position within the First Order. He never needed you, he had said as much in Canto Bight. You wondered if those words you’d heard him say held more truth than the ones that followed, that supposed declaration of love. You were shoved along the corridors, your heart flaking away with each thought, knowing that you were going to die here. No one to save you, no evidence to clear your name and hopelessness fell heavily on you. When the door to your cell closed leaving you in darkness you wept, feeling the grief of loss at everything you had ever known and the knowledge that hope was just a dream for children.

After you had been dragged away Hux had taken his leave from the bridge, highly aware of Ren’s hidden gaze on his retreating back but he didn’t care. He needed privacy. He stood in the quiet of his own quarters, his hand flexing as he remembered the way your fingers curled around it. The feel of your trembling body against his as you both watched the destruction of your home world, obliterated in moments, everything you’d both ever known eradicated in a blaze of fire. He hadn’t expected his feelings to be so strong on this, he had hated Arkanis and the awful memories it possessed for him but also it held memories he cherished. His mother, the maze where he spent most of his childhood and meeting you, who made him realise he was allowed to have a moment of happiness. A foolish, fleeting moment. Your marriage had been filled with war and he wished he had not been blindsided, this is what his father had been trying to teach him. Weakness would bring his downfall and he had fallen into that trap and not even realised. If you’d stayed on Arkanis after the wedding none of this would have happened….or maybe it would have. His wife, you would have still been on the planet, moving in the same circles and probably moved over to the Resistance a lot sooner.

And you’d be dead. But he wouldn’t have felt the love for you growing in his own chest, he wouldn’t have experienced your warmth, he wouldn’t have felt your body shiver under his. He never would have breathed in your scent, or touched your soft skin and your death would have been easier to cope with. Because he wouldn’t miss you, he wouldn’t miss what you had shown him.

His hand flexed again, the shadow of your touch still affecting him even now. He stood silently staring at the table top, his gloved fingertips gently resting on the surface lost in his swirling thoughts. You were going to die anyway, you had performed an act of treason and he couldn't save you from this, not without losing everything he had worked so desperately hard for. Was it worth it? He clearly didn’t deserve the happiness you had bestowed upon him, and now he had to make the decision if he could live with or without you. He felt anger manifest in his chest, he shouldn’t have to make this decision, if only Ren had kept his hands to himself, the petty jealousy that the oaf harboured had ruined this for him…..hadn’t it? Hux visibly deflated with a sigh, he was the one that agreed to be a suitor for you. His father had owed your father a favour and Hux had agreed to repay, so he was responsible for this, all of these events that had led…to this. He had the power to say no, he had the wealth to pay your father off but he knew it would be squandered and you’d still be left with nothing. And now….you only had your life left and he was probably going to take that too. He had lost the few people that were close to him, the Galaxy just proving his father was right yet again.

Raising you is such a waste of my time.

You are such a waste of space, a useless fool!

What are you good for boy if you can’t even carry a tray of drinks?!

You are an embarrassment!

So disappointing…

You think I would turn this project over to you? Brainless idiot, you are not worthy of the glory it would bring.

You are not worthy of anything…

You don’t deserve the life I have given you.

No one could ever love you….

But you had. Even if it was fleeting, it had been there blazing, alive, existing. And it was going to end like everything else.

A notification made the screen of his datapad light up and his gaze was drawn to it, your prisoner number leaping out at him and the decision he had to make was now upon him. He straightened, clearing his thoughts and focussing on the task at hand. He adjusted his cuff, his gloved hand brushing the material in such a simple, comforting motion and he felt everything falling away. He slipped behind the mask that had protected him all through his life, the blank face that showed nothing of his inner turmoil. The armour he placed over himself had grown impenetrable over the years and he leaned on it heavily. He was going to need it now, more than ever.

He hated it, the way your face lit up when you saw him at the door of your cell. You were huddled in the corner, your head buried in your hands, tears streaming down your face and he nearly, nearly halted this whole thing. But he couldn’t, he had no choice, the wheels were in motion, there were rules, regulations. He had to harden himself more, if anyone else under his command had performed the treason you had they would be dead already. Because that's what it was, an act of treason. You rushed to him, hushed pleas falling from your lips as you begged him not to go through with this, you were innocent, you didn’t know what you were doing even though he’d found you at a Resistance sympathisers wedding. He concentrated on the evidence and how it stacked against you, he couldn’t ignore it, he couldn’t forget the echoes of pain that clawed at his heart. You had done this, you. Betraying him, the First Order, the Supreme Leader…

You pawed at his paralysed form, tugging on his uniform with your desperate hands as he just stood there staring at the wall over your head. Finally his hands grabbed yours in a vice like grip to stop you touching him, he needed you to stop. He said your name in a deadpan voice, listing off your treasonous act followed by the sentence. Death. You were frozen, your mouth open in horror that he would go this far, that he would allow this to happen but he had no choice. You had gone against him, you had sided with the scum of the Galaxy and he would treat you as such no matter how much it obliterated his soul. The troopers moved into the cell, ripping you from his grip and he found himself holding on for just a moment, to feel your soft skin, to smell your wonderful hair. Just a moment, frozen in time so he could remember the feeling of you for the rest of his life and then you were being dragged away. Your screams echoed down the hallway but he couldn’t move, his boots were rooted to the grated floor, tears threatened to fall but he grit his teeth and fought them.

Please! Please no! Armitage! Please, please! He could not show weakness, he could not show feeling, if he did he would lose everything. But you were his everything…

He blocked out the inner voice, wishing for the first time in his life that his fathers voice would override his feelings like it always did, snapping him back onto the right path with the brutality he needed, but it didn’t come. Just your pleading screams, still echoing around him tearing pieces of him away with every screech. He finally moved to the cell door, leaning against the frame heavily as his breath left his body. He couldn’t get enough air in, he needed you. Where were you? He whispered your name, but you weren’t here and he couldn’t hear you anymore.

A shot rang out down the hallway and Hux's head snapped towards the sound.

“No….” He had to see. He stumbled forward, the corridor swimming before him and he had to use the sides to steady himself. The troopers closed the trash shoot just as he got there, Kylo Ren standing watching, making sure the task was done. Making sure you no longer existed. The pain that lanced from his heart was excruciating, making his legs give way so he fell hard to the floor drawing all their attention.

“You, take the General back to his quarters and get a medic, you, come with me.” Kylo went to turn away but the trooper just stood there staring at Hux. “Trooper! Don’t make me send you for reconditioning!” The trooper jumped and hurried to Kylo’s side leaving a struggling Hux in the arms of the other.

Kylo marched through the corridors of the Finalizer, the trooper hot on his heels. He could tell no one knew what he’d done, the other trooper he had bent to his will, he’d have no recollection of what had transpired. He could still feel the ripples through the force from Hux no matter how hard he tried to shut him out until finally a medic sedated him and the waves stopped, the force becoming still once more. Or so he thought, the chaotic energy that followed the trooper behind him was distracting but he had to focus. At the far end of the hangar TIE’s lined the bays and he paused at the stairs, the trooper nearly colliding with his back.

“Take this TIE.”

“I-I can’t fly it!” Kylo looked round seeing a pilot and called him over.

“You! FL-6194!”

“Supreme Leader?” Kylo raised his hand, feeling the pilot's mind and taking control, it was so easy bending them to his will, they were all so weak minded, so ready to obey.

“You will take this trooper and fly to these coordinates. Once you arrive at your destination you will terminate yourself.” Kylo could feel the thoughts falling into place, the settling of the mind, stripping the pilot of his panic and replacing it with purpose.

“Yes, Supreme Leader.”

“K-Kylo!”

“Go. Now.” He turned with a flare of cloak, you needed to leave. Before anyone knew what he’d done, before anyone suspected, you needed to go.

#echoes of the heart #general hux x female reader #general hux x you #general hux x reader #general hux/female reader #general hux/reader #general hux/you #armitage hux x female reader #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #armitage hux/female reader #armitage hux/you #armitage hux/reader #angst #sadness #kylo ren x you #kylo ren #general hux #armitage hux #my writing #mylifeisactuallyamess #Star Wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #general hux fan fiction #kylo ren fanfiction #multi chapter

[howdywrites]

Distractions

- An In The Woods Somewhere drabble

Description: The aftermath of a violent zombie attack leaves Jackie shaken and Mara's there to pick up the pieces.

WC: 1.5k~ Warnings: (NOTE: this is a New Adult wip) blood, descriptions of gore and death, hurt/comfort, hints at PTSD

[WIP Intro]

My hand’s in his chest.

Jackie’s ragged breathing mixed with the pounding of her heart in her ears. She became aware of every sensation encompassing her trembling hands. Sharp bone and squirming innards. Blood so old and rancid it left her fist coated in its stomach churning viscosity. The smell of it burned her nose.

My hand’s in his fucking chest.

A voice, barely audible over the panicked thoughts echoing in her skull, called to her. Jackie’s eyes remained transfixed on the collapsed chest beneath her. She crouched over the man who had attacked her - if one could call it a man at all. His yellowed eyes stared at the stars above them, the light far from gone. His neck bent at an unnatural angle and the hunting knife she managed to wrestle off of him was now buried between his ribs. She gripped its leather handle for dear life, lost in the gore of his wound.

“Jackie.” Mara’s voice came to her like a freight train. A touch harsh and loud enough to pull her attention away from one of the cracked bones that dug into the back of her hand. Jackie’s head whipped around, meeting the soft, weary eyes of the woman she saved. “Jackie. Let go of the knife.” Her voice was soft. Softer than she’d ever heard from here in their two long days together. No snarky quips or barking orders. She beckoned to her like a cool oasis in a desert.

Jackie half expected the more experienced woman to be pissed at her for letting the killing get to her. Even after all they’d been through. But this… this was going to stick with her. Even with her own mind screaming at her to let go of the weapon and remove herself from the blood that began to soak into the knees of her jeans, she couldn’t release her grip on the damned thing.

“I… I can’t. Mara, I can’t-” She didn’t recognize her own voice. Shrill and panicked, she barely managed to swallow the sob growing in the back of her throat. “It’s stuck - I’m stuck!”

A quiet hush passed Mara’s lips. Jackie turned her face away so she wouldn’t see the hot tears that defied her and slipped down her cheeks. A warm, lithe body pressed against her back. Arms wrapped around her, grime coated hands taking her wrists. The lean muscle of her arms encased her protectively.

“Then let me do it. C’mon, let me free you.”

Jackie trembled. The sob won. Through blurry tears she watched as Mara’s fingers wrenched her own off the hilt of the blade. The muscle in her wrist ached terribly like the time in college when she gave herself carpal tunnel from writing two essays in a row. Despite the pain, they shook uncontrollably.

The chest against her back rumbled; Mara uttered a low groan as she hoisted Jackie off the dead man’s limp form. They stumbled backwards until they reached the mouth of the cave they had been hiding in for the past few hours to catch their breath.

Another sob wracked her chest, echoing off the jagged stone walls and high ceiling. Somewhere, in the distant woods, a high pitched yowling signalled danger. More of the fuckers lurked somewhere in the darkness. Mara squeezed her against her, mouth brushing against her ear. “Not here.” Her warm breath warned in a whisper. “The falls. Wait until the falls.”

Jackie’s breath fluttered in short bursts. Everything within her wanted to break down crying where they stood. Throw a fit that could shake the heavens and ultimately end the nightmare they were trapped in. But she choked back her whimpers and stumbled when Mara’s body left hers. A hand remained under her elbow, guiding her.

“This way. Carefully.”

Limbs carried her on their own. Her mind was too busy preoccupied with the violent attack playing over and over again like a rancid movie. Except it was her hands. Her feet. Her voice that cried out when she dealt the final blow.

Jackie’s ankle twisted oddly for a second as she lost her balance along the rocky shore of Sky Pond. Mara kept her upright, by some miracle, picking up their pace towards the Timberline Falls straight ahead. The sound of rushing water allowed her to cry again, as long as she kept the sobbing at bay. More tears slipped down her cheeks, cooling her hot flesh and releasing some of the pent up terror still lingering within her.

Timberline Fall’s grew louder the closer they approached it. Both of them surveyed their surroundings, making sure no one - and no thing - was close enough to attack. Jackie pulled her hand from Mara’s, pushing past her to get to a broad, flat boulder beside the body of water. Icy sprinkles fell from overhead, misting her. Relief joined hand in hand with the pain inside of her.

Before she knew it, Jackie’s screams drowned in the roar of Timberline.

-

It was uncertain how much time passed. The moon still hung high overhead, providing pale light. The falls became a background rumble that Jackie tuned out not long after arriving. The occasional whimper rattled in her throat, but it seemed she had cried every tear she could in the time they remained by the edge of Sky Pond.

At some point, she had been coaxed back to the cave. The dead man was nowhere in sight - something of Mara’s doing. Smears of his blood still painted the stone, but without his rotting corpse, there wasn’t much to see.

Jackie’s face pressed against warm skin. She wheezed, trying to conjure up another sob to finally drain her of energy. But it never came. Mara smelled like the earth. Strong and natural, with a hint of campfire and sweat. Not that she minded. After their two days together, she almost found it more comforting than her mother’s perfume or her past girlfriend’s deodorant. It was all Mara.

It took a small deal of effort to peel her tacky, tear-streaked cheek off of the bare shoulder she rested against. There, lounging by their backpacks, Mara held her and worked tirelessly to get the last of the rotten blood out from the creases of Jackie’s knuckles. Very few words were shared between them since her breakdown at the falls, but when she laid her head against her chest she let the sound of her steady heartbeat ground her.

“I’m sorry.” Though Jackie didn’t exactly know what she was apologizing for. Those dark eyes fluttered, a brow raising as they looked down at her.

“What have I told you about apologizing too much, Jackie?” The tease was light. Mara’s voice frayed, somehow mustering a small smile. “I’m just cleaning you up. I know what the scent of death can do to a person. You’ve dealt with enough. Just let me do this for you.”

Jackie went quiet, watching as Mara’s hands turned hers over so her palms faced up. The handkerchief she used was tossed aside. With both of their hands clean, she interlaced their fingers. The memory of the dead man’s face tried to surface, but the forehead that nestled against hers flung it back into the void.

“What are you thinking about?” Mara’s inquiry lingered unanswered for a moment. What was she thinking about? Images of the violence from the past days flickered but never formed completely at the front of her mind. Her brain buzzed with the touch. The gentleness in the warrior’s actions.

“Him. Or at least, I was.” Jackie’s breathing went shallow again. They were so close right then. She could feel her warm breath against her face. “I was thinking about the noise he made… but you’re kind of making it hard to do that right now.”

“Am I?” Mara snorted, pulling her head back from hers for a moment. Humor lingered on her exhausted gaze. “Don’t tell me you’ve caught feelings for some crazy bitch you met during a zombie apocalypse.”

Well that ruined the moment. Embarrassed, Jackie turned her face away and cast her gaze to the streaks of moonlight that lit up the front of the cave. A hand left one of hers. Warm fingers caressed the side of her jaw, pulling her gaze back to Mara. She looked serious then. Her brows lowered in concentration. They locked eyes for what seemed like hours.

Mara leaned in. Her lips were so close to hers. So fucking close. What a perfect distraction they were, even as they hovered ever so slightly next to hers. Jackie’s breath hitched in her throat and she watched her through her lashes. She gave a small nod, letting her know this was a welcomed advance.

She tasted of salt and sweet tobacco. Far better than the scent of blood or death. Jackie hummed against her lips, her hands trembling against. Only this time it was from the rush of electricity that coursed through her veins at the tender affection. Mara deepened the kiss, her hand still firmly against her jaw. A thumb swiped along her cheek bone, tickling her like a butterfly’s wings.

They only broke so she could catch her breath. After all her crying, Jackie still wasn’t sure how to breathe properly. The humor returned to Mara’s face and she murmured against her lips.

“Hope you like crazy, princess. You’re going to be stuck with me for a while”

-

ITWS Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @lordkingsmith @celestialbunnistories @aeslin-writes @writinginslowmotion @chayscribbles @theramwrites @tiredlittleoldme @sapphcon-ic @hazard-writes @lookingmuchimproved @themidnxghtwriter @draculinawrites @aetherwrites @svpphicwrites @maxgraybooks @writeherewaiting @sjjsalamanders @thelittlestspider @ashen-crest @writtendevastation @ravesthewriter @adie-dee @christine-thinks @cream-and-tea @reeseweston @languageisbae @mellowkittenwrites @yejidoesthings

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[velvetthunder1999]

All the time on Earth

Part 27 - Battle Scars

Summary: George refuses to let you join the Order when rescuing Harry due to your previous injury. When he comes back covered in blood, you’re desperate and scared. You tend to his wounds the morning after, reassuring that you find him just as handsome as before

Warning: Blood, Angst

Word count: 3.6K

George Weasley x Reader // Fred Weasley x Reader (platonic)

Masterlist

You burst out of the kitchen into the garden, the door flinging back and shutting loudly after you. You needed air, you needed to get out for a bit. All the others in the Burrow were probably surprised by your sudden tantrum but you didn’t care.

It wasn’t fair.

You came to a halt at the fence, leaning against the wooden spikes, staring at the gnomes on the other side trying to dig up something from the ground. You were breathing heavily, your stomach ached with anxiety and fear.

It wasn’t fair.

You buried your face into your hands; as soon as darkness fell onto your eyelids you felt a bit better. Calmer, at least. Still, pictures of imaginary scenerios started floating around in your mind and you felt your throat closing tight. You heard steps from behind you but you didn’t look up or turn around.

It wasn’t fair.

“Witty…” George’s careful voice came closer and closer. “Witty, you know you can’t come with us.”

You didn’t answer. You raised your head, looking at the gnomes again. George slowly walked next to you, resting his hand on the top of the fence.

“Y/N —”

“I need to go,” you said coolly. “I need to be there.”

“You can’t,” he was neither cold or contemptuous, but he still spoke in a very matter-of-fact, low voice. “It’s not safe.”

“If you think that because of my injury…,” you snaped, finally looking at him.

“I don’t think. I know,” he said, shaking his head. You frowned.

“I am better. I’m almost fine.”

It was not compeletely true; after you were hit with a nasty curse in the battle the night Dumbledore died, everything hurt. Breathing, talking, walking was equally painful and only thanks to Madam Pomfrey were you able to improve a bit. In the last month you focused on getting better, and day by day the pain started to fade but you still had a long way to go if you wanted to fight. You were just not well enough to help the others rescue Harry from Privet Drive. And George knew this, too.

“I’m afraid ‘almost’ is not going to cut it.”

“I can fight,” you said sternly.

“You need to stay here,” said George with a sudden sharp glint in his eyes. “That is my final word.”

He started walking away but you raised your voice after him.

“So I should just sit here and hope that everything’s all right? Do you really trust Mundungus instead of me?”

He turned around with an angry expression.

“Mundungus can get out of bed without wincing in pain. Can you?”

You didn’t answer. Your breathing was shaky. George’s face softened, but only a little.

“I can’t let you risk your life when you’re not your best self. I know that you can fight, I know you’re good at it, but you’re not fast enough just yet. I’m sorry.”

You clenched your jaw. Not fast enough?

You reached for your wand and pointed at George, shouting.

“Stup —”

You didn’t even finish it, your wand already flew out of your hand by George’s non-verbal spell. He was standing opposite you, wand raised, his face dark. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, his suddennes leaving you in complete shock. He was staring at you without words. From the corner of your eyes you saw your wand lying on the ground. He was right. He was right, and you hated it.

“I hate feeling useless,” you whispered finally. George’s face softened, this time it was lenient, kind.

“You’re not useless.”

“I think differently.”

“Y/N. You’re not useless.”

“Tell me what to do, then,” you said, clearly recognizing despair in your voice. “Cause I won’t be able to sit here tomorrow and accept that you might never return.”

He didn’t answer for a very long time. Finally he nodded, as though accepting that there are no comforting words this time. Things were not hypothetical anymore. This was reality, and the danger of someone dying tomorrow was clear as day.

George stepped closer, took up your wand from the grass and put it back into your pocket. His face was expressionless, empty. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, then took your hand and lead you back to the house. You understood. There was nothing to be done.

You slept badly that night, even though you felt George’s arms around you. You jerked awake every hour, reaching out and feeling his body next to yours. You couldn’t help but think what’d happen if this was the last time you’d share the bed with him; if the morning was the last one when you’d wake up next to him.

You were anxious all day. It seemed like time was flying by; the Order was holding meetings and tactical discussions continuously. When dinner came, you couldn’t eat anything. You were sitting next to George at the table, who grabbed your shaking hand and pulled it into his lap. You locked eyes with Mrs Weasley; she was a mess, too.

And then, when the sun started to change its yellow to orange, Moody ordered everyone out into the garden. Your lower lip was trembling as you were staring at the thestrals and the brooms. On the right Hagrid was adjusting some buttons on Sirius’s motorbike.

You couldn’t believe this was really happening.

“Five minutes!” grunted Moody, his magical eye rolling around wildly, searching the sky.

You turned to George in panic. He cupped your cheeks immediately, looking deeply in your eyes.

“I see you soon. Okay?”

You forced yourself to calm down. This was an important moment. You had to behave accordingly, you had to make it count. You couldn’t whimper or cry. You needed to say a proper goodbye.

“Yes,” you said, nodding. You were relieved to hear that your voice sounded quite normal. “Yes, I see you soon.”

He pulled your face towards him, kissing you. You closed your eyes, not thinking about anything but his tongue on yours. Then it was over.

“Take care,” you said with a small nod and a weak smile. He smiled back.

“I will.”

You sighed.

“All right, then.”

And you turned away, walking towards Fred, determined not to look back. Fred looked at you, worrying. He saw how depressed you were all day long. He opened his arms and you hugged him tight.

“Be good,” he said. “Don’t wreck the house till we’re away.”

You chuckled.

“I’ll try. No promises, though.”

He let you go, smiling. You were unable to process how he or George could stay so cheerful all the time. Maybe that was the reason you loved them so much.

You reached for his face and pressed a soft kiss on his right cheek. He let out a grin and curtseyed. You laughed, surprising yourself. Fred, seemingly satisfied with himself waved and joined the rest of the Order.

You walked back to the kitchen door where Ginny was, staring at Bill helping Fleur onto a thestral. Mrs Weasley said goodbye to Ron at last, then she watched as Moody gave out the order and everyone mounted their brooms. You couldn’t help it, you looked at George’s back. In that moment he turned around, too, and meeting your eyes he sent a mischievous wink at you. You caught yourself laughing again.

Then all of them rose in the air… one of the thestrals made a sharp sound… then they were gone.

The garden became incredibly silent and empty all at once; the sun was barely giving any light now and crickets were chirping in the grass. Soft wind resonated the windows and Mrs Weasley’s high, nervous voice spoke.

“Well… I reckon we’ll be better off waiting in the kitchen.”

You locked eyes with Ginny and nodded. The three of you sat down to the table, your wand summoning three glasses of brandy. You took a sip, enjoying how it burned your throat.

You didn’t talk at all. You saw Mrs Weasley clutching her glass, blinking heavily every now and then. Ginny was drumming on the table with her index finger, watching as the liquid in her glass trembled every time she hit the table. You looked at your own hands, shaking, and quickly made them into fists.

And so you waited. Thirty minutes passed, an hour, an hour and a half. You kept glancing at Ginny’s watch. According to it — and to the previously discussed strategy — the first pair was supposed to arrive in thirty minutes. Twenty six minutes. Twenty one. Seventeen. Thirteen. At ten minutes you couldn’t stay sit any longer.

“I’m going out,” you said.

“Me, too,” said Ginny and Mrs Weasley together, following you. Both of them looked nervous, pale.

Once in the garden you looked up at the sky. It was completely empty. The stars were shining bright and the moon was rising higher and higher above your heads. You couldn’t stay still. You started pacing from left to right, looking up at every turn. You forced yourself to take deep breaths and remain calm.

“Ron and Tonks,” said Ginny suddenly. “One minute.”

You stood next to her, your eyes scanning the air. Mrs Weasley was holding a handkerchief.

Ten seconds. Five. The time had come… and then it passed. No one showed up.

“Where are they?” you asked, your voice uncomfortably high-pitched. “Where are they?”

Mrs Weasley was panting heavily. She turned away, wiping her face. Ginny stood her ground sternly.

“It doesn’t mean anything. They might be arriving with dad and Fred. Two minutes.”

Another two minutes passed. It was only the three of you in the garden.

“They’re not coming,” you said, gasping for air. “Oh, my God…”

This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real. The thing that you feared the most… No. It couldn’t be real. The journey was just taking longer than expected. Yes. That could’ve been the only explanation. Still… The sky remained empty.

“Someone’s coming!” cried Ginny five minutes later. “Look!”

You looked to the way she was pointing and immediately saw a black dot getting bigger and bigger as approaching. Then with a deafening sound it crached into the pond.

“It’s Harry and Hagrid!” said Ginny and hurried towards the pair of them. You saw her wrapping her arms around Harry’s neck. Mrs Weasley was talking to Hagrid who was wet from head to toe.

“It was an ambush, Molly,” he grunted. You took a sudden breath. Ambush. Your hand was shaking uncontrollably. Harry made his way closer to you and your eyes locked. Even though you were glad he was all right… you felt guilty for wishing he was someone else.

“It’s their turn next,” said Ginny to you. She didn’t need to specify who she meant. You nodded, looking up at the sky. You pushed Fred’s absence into the back of your mind. You had never been more scared in your entire life.

The distinct sound of apparition echoed in the dark and you heard Lupin cry, “Here!”

You didn’t even realize what you were seeing. In the first second you found it strange how George stood in such a weird way… you were even relieved… then you saw the blood on his face and neck and you stumbled, struggling not to faint but it was really hard and your heart was pounding and you heard yourself letting out a weird, whimpering sound…

“No…!”

“Quick! Into the house!”

You followed Harry and Lupin as they took George into the living room, putting him on the couch. He was still unconscious. In the bright light the blood dripping on his face seemed even worse. You weren’t able to breath. You weren’t able to think. You were just staring at his body, your eyes finally fixed on the side of his head, seeing that he was missing an ear. The scene started to get blurry and you felt hot tickling on your cheeks.

“Come on, Y/N,” Ginny shook your shoulders, jerking you awake. “He’s alive, but he needs help. Come on!”

“Yes…” you mumbled. “Yes.”

You had no idea how, but a rag appeared in your hand. You dropped on your knees next to the couch, next to George’s head. From this close you could smell the blood. You started sobbing as you were cleaning the blood off him with shaking hands.

Someone appeared next to you, lowering down to the couch’s level. George stirred.

“How you feeling, Georgie?”

You jumped and looked to your right. Fred’s pale face was looking at his twin’s. You let out a raspy, relieved sigh, then turned back to George. He was murmuring quietly.

“Saint-like.”

“What’s wrong with him?” said Fred, terrified. “Is his mind affected?”

George opened his eyes and slowly pointed at his bloody wound.

“Saint-like. I’m holy. I’m holey, Fred. Get it?”

“The whole wide world of ear-related humor and you go for ‘I’m holey’,”chuckled Fred. “That’s pathetic.”

“Reckon I’m still better looking than you.”

You were sobbing, barely able to see from your tears. George raised his head a little, looking at you. He smiled weakly.

“Hey.”

“He-hey…” you weeped. George frowned in concern.

“Don’t cry… I’m okay.”

“I-I can’t he-help it…”

“Mad-eye’s dead,” said Bill behind you. You looked around and saw that in the meantime everyone had arrived.

You turned back to George and he reached for your hand. His was covered in blood but you took it anyway. He was looking at you sobbing while Mrs Weasley cleaned the blood off his neck and his face. When you saw the clear hole where his ear used to be, you cried even harder. You didn’t care who sees you. You couldn’t control yourself.

“It’s okay, love,” said George, squeezing your hand. “Breath for me all right?”

You couldn’t. Fred stood up from the floor and returned with a glass full of transparent liquid. You looked at him through your tears.

“W-what’s this?”

“Water,” he shrugged. “Drink it.”

You obeyed, emptying the glass.

“Better?”

“A bit,” you said, wiping your tears. At least you weren’t sobbing so hard now.

“C’mon, Y/N,” said Fred. “It’s okay. You need to ch-ear up.”

George laughed and you couldn’t help but chuckle as well. Mrs Weasley finished bandaging George’s head and left the three of you alone. Everyone in the room went back to the kitchen.

“Does it hurt a lot?” asked Fred, indicating at George’s wound.

“Yeah. A bit ear-itating.”

Fred wheezed. A sudden urge came over you and your tears started falling again. George frowned again and Fred was looking at you, deep in thought, then gently touched your shoulder.

“I’ll leave you two alone for a bit.”

He stood up and left. The clock on the wall hit midnight with a chime. George was stroking your wrist.

“What is it, love?”

“I can’t s-stop wondering… if the curse hit you a little to the right…”

“But it didn’t,” he said firmly.

“But what if —”

He cut you off with a stern look.

“No what if! I’m okay. I’m okay and it’s passed.”

“I… I can’t help but think…”

“Shh…” he said gently. “Come here, please.”

You climbed onto the couch and lay down next to him. It was rather narrow for two people but none of you cared. George held you close, tenderly stroking your hair.

“Will you sleep here with me?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

“But you can only stay if you calm down, okay?” he kissed your temple softly.

“Okay,” you nodded, wrapping your arms around him. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breathing. Only now did you realize how tired and exhausted you were. You closed your eyes, dazing off to the sound of George’s heartbeat.

You didn’t sleep well. You dreamed about hooded figures and flying brooms, reaching out to grab you but always missing. Around three in the morning you woke up again, hearing something that sounded like mugs and spoons clinking. As you raised your head a little; you saw light coming from the kitchen. You squinted, recognizing a tall, ginger figure at the sink.

You made sure that George was still sleeping then you stood up from the couch. Your eyes felt heavy and weary from all the crying, making you blinking heavily as you made your way into the kitchen.

“Hey,” you said in a low whisper. Fred turned around with a guilty expression.

“Did I wake you? I broke a ruddy mug.”

“Yeah, but it’s okay.”

“Tea?”

“Thanks.”

You stood next to him, your elbows touching. You took a sip from the hot drink and Fred did the same.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked. Fred chuckled darkly.

“Somethin’ like that.”

He was staring at his feet. You rarely saw him this serious, this grievous. You remembered how scared you had been for not only George but for Fred as well.

“How’s George?” he asked quietly.

“He’s okay. Sleeping. How are you?”

He shrugged.

“All right.”

“No, I mean…” you hesitated then took his hand into yours. His palm was hot from the heat of his mug. “Are you okay, Freddie?”

He was staring at you so intensely you felt your heart ache. He was so much like his brother, yet so different. His gaze was burning your soul and all of a sudden you were ready to do anything that would make him feel better.

“Yeah… I’m all right,” he said. “Promise.”

He tightened his grip on your hand and pulled you closer, until your head was resting on his chest and his arms were around your waist. You were holding each other for almost a minute before he spoke.

“I love you.”

He was so genuine, so vulnerable that you didn’t even have to think about the answer.

“I love you, too.”

He kissed your hair.

“Go back to sleep… sis.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

He let you go with a soft chuckle, smiling to himself. Looking at him somehow you felt a bit lighter… a bit more relieved and calm. Calm. The last thing you had thought you’d feel with Fred Weasley.

“See you in the morning,” you said. He nodded.

“Good night.”

You walked back to the living room, the taste of the tea still on your tongue. You lay down next to George, careful not to wake him. You took his hand into yours and pressed a soft kiss on his fingers before closing your eyes.

You felt like it was only a second later when you were woken up by a hand on your shoulder. You raised your head suddenly, turning to see Ginny next to the couch.

“What is it?” you asked.

“You need to wake him up. The bandage needs changing.”

She pointed at George’s ear where the white gauze was colored by fresh blood.

“He must’ve scratched it in his sleep,” said Ginny. “I call mum.”

“Yeah,” you said and sat up. When Ginny left you gently brushed your thumb across George’s cheek. “Hey… Georgie, wake up.”

He sniffed and opened his eyes. He looked at you with a sleepy smile.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

You kissed his cheek.

“You need to get up. We need to change your gauze.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He nodded and tried to sit up but a painful grimace flashed over his face.

“You okay?” you asked, concerned.

“Yeah, just… give me a minute.”

He sat up but his face was incredibly pale.

“What’s wrong?” you said.

“He must’ve lost a lot of blood,” said Fred, appearing next to you with Mrs Weasley. “Do you feel dizzy, George?”

George didn’t answer, he was clutching the edge of his pillow.

“I need to get this off, dear,” said Mrs Weasley with a scissor in her hand. She brushed George’s hair kindly and loosened the bandage. “The quicker we do this the sooner it’s over.”

As she touched the gauze on George’s wound, he went green.

“Oh — Shit.”

Fred acted before anyone else; with a wave of his wand an empty bucket appeared and George held it close, retching. You felt incredibly sorry for him. You sat back onto the couch next to him, stroking his back.

“It’s okay,” you said gently. Fred was watching his brother, worried.

Mrs Weasley worked as quickly as she could but any time she touched the wound either to disinfect it or to bandage it, George became worse and was leaning over the bucket again. You were caressing his hair, whispering any kind and calming thing you could think of.

“It’s okay, baby… it’s all right… almost done…”

Finally, when Mrs Weasley was about to finish, George was getting color back into his face. Fred brought him a glass of water and as George started to sip it, he emptied the bucket with a single wave of his wand.

“Well, that was brilliant,” said George hoarsly. “You still fancy me, Y/N?” he added jokingly, but with an unsure look in his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” you said. “You’re still ear-resistable to me.”

The three of you burst out laughing. After that George seemed to be in a much better mood. Fred sat on the floor cross-legged and looked up with a mischievous smirk.

“So… there is still an important question to be answered, don’t you think?”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Who’s the more handsome twin now, Y/N?”

You snorted with laughter and shook your head.

“It’s not even a competition.”

“Why’s that?” asked George.

“Women love battle scars,” you said simply, kissing him on the cheek.

#harry potter #george weasley fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #imagination #imagine george weasley #george weasley imagination #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley #georgeweasley #fredweasley #fred weasley #fred and george #fred and george weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagination #gred and forge #weasley twins #hermione #ginny #ron #ron weasley #weasley #weasley family #hogwarts #hogsmeade #hp #hp fanfic

[eivorsjawline]

Trigger warning: smut and talk of blood/open wound.

You take a medieval bath in the opening of this chapter in the safe space of a close friends estate. When you return to the settlement you’re greeted by Eivor with a sweet bouquet. You both head back to your room and having a little one on one time before getting disrupted by someone at the door.

Chapter 5: Sweet Escape

Readers POV

Bjorn ended up bringing me to whom he calls Erke’s living quarters. One of the servants made a bath for me to clean myself off, it had been so long since I had a nice bath. The servant filled an ewer with fresh spring water, heated it up then poured it into a large wooden tub. Careful to not step in too early, I waited and let the steam hit my face.

I started to strip my clothes off and after a while of letting the water cool down, I poured a pitcher of the warm water over my hair. A bucket lay nearby for me to place any of the now dirty suds. I ran some of the soap through my hair and began to scrub afterwards rinsing it out. Wrapping my hair in a linen towel, I stepped into the tub and started scrubbing my body all over.

It's insane to think of how we take for granted the small things in the modern world. I soaked in the tub worrying about the settlement and how Eivor was handling everything. Though I'd never seen her in battle, I imagined she fights like a true warrior. Even in modern times Eivor would be considered strong and brute. However, my wandering mind still managed to come up with dreadful worries and scenarios.

Though I didn’t want to leave the bath, the water began to cool down a little too much for my liking so I stepped out onto a towel on the ground. I started to rub myself dry with the extra towel getting my legs, chest and arms. An assortment of oils and herbs in jars lay on the table near me. I washed my face with some more soap and water residing in a basin and then doused my face in rose oil, afterwards removing the towel from my head. Feeling clean and fresh, I pulled a long tunic over me along with a pair of undergarments and headed towards my room.

Erke’s furry friend Tibert, a chubby orange striped cat joined me alongside the bed and begged me for pets. Since I was here alone basically, I might as well have someone accompany me while I slept tonight. I blew out the candles next to my bed and rested my head on the fluffy feather pillows. There was no way I was getting any sleep tonight but I still tried, until the bone shattering emotion of loneliness covered me. Since I’d arrived I missed my home, I missed my friends too, the technology, and even the food. Nevertheless, I missed Eivor more than anything else.

My eyes began to water and then I heard creaking footsteps near the door. It was so late, who could possibly be here at this time? With a knock on the door I heard Bjorn’s voice asking me if he could come in. I jumped up from bed and opened the door from him, hoping for news on Eivor and the settlement.

“It’s not looking good. We have to relocate the camp completely.”

His words shattered my heart and made my already disheveled mind worry even more. I started to pace around the room and my anxiety set in. Myself and war had not been acquainted yet due to the sheltered life I’d lived compared to these people.

“What about Eivor? Please, tell me she’s okay.”

“Eivor is fine, for Randvi I cannot say the same. She was struck and the wound is very bad. I'll take you to the new location in the morning, you must rest here for tonight. Eivor instructed me that I stay and keep watch for you.”

Even from afar I felt protected by Eivor. Although relieved I didn't have to be alone tonight, I felt bad for Randvi. I hoped she would be okay even if she didn’t care much for me. She was very strong, stronger than I could ever be. Bjorn and I conversated a bit about where the location will be before saying goodnight and heading to bed. I closed the door and noticed Tibert still laying there. Swooping the covers over my legs, I snuggled up with my new furry friend and tried to rest but I knew damn well I wouldn't be getting any of that tonight.

Eivors POV

The next morning

I woke up in the morning and the first thing I felt was the soreness of the cut in my arm. Blood ran through the linen covering my wound overnight. Letting out a groan, I reached over the table next to my bed for the medicine that Valka gave me and applied it to the cut before cleaning myself and rebandaging.

The new settlement was surprisingly nice. A larger pond to the west of the new longhouse, good for fishing. The land was more vast and colorful flowers grew by the riverbank. When sunset came you could see the light hit just over the valleys and the bushes and trees grew with the greenest of leaves and ripest fruits. Almost everything was finished setting up with the exception of a few huts.

My head pounding from little to no sleep, I decided to go check on Randvi. I figured Valka was probably keeping a close eye on her so I headed there. Valka’s hut was just East of the longhouse and across, a closer span than Ravensthorpe. On my way there I couldn't help but to think of [y/n] and how I missed her. I wish I could have been with her last night but I had to get the people to safety first, all I could do was send Bjorn with her.

Walking into the seer's hut I could smell her cooking some sort of potion, the smell of lavender filled the air. Randvi lay next to her, the life in her eyes seemed to be returning. She lost so much blood, but she fought through it. Kneeling down to get to her level, I saw the corners of Randvi’s mouth form a smile as if she were happy to see me for once.

“You look better than ever.”

“Oh, stop it.”

Randvi let out a small laugh then thanked me for helping her last night. She explained that she tried to fight back but she was far too late for the Picts had already infiltrated the camp. Our conversation was brisk but for the first time I felt a genuine friendship forming between the two of us and a mutual respect. Valka joined in saying Randvi should be back on her feet in no time.

Perhaps even through all of this, we lost nothing and only gained. Today was a bright sunny day and those days were very rare in this green land. After one of the worst storms I’d ever seen, today was a new day. Since we moved further south west into the country, there was no need for a heavy cloak at least for today. I settled for an embroidered gray tunic rolling up the sleeves, a pair of brown linen trousers and secured them with a belt afterwards, lacing up my usual boots.

Looking out the window, I saw [y/n] leave Valka’s hut. I presumed Bjorn sent word of what happened. Quickly, I combed through my hair, fixed my braids and snuck out the back of the longhouse. Some red and blue flowers grew by the backyard and I began to pick some off the vines, creating a small bouquet.

This feels stupid, yet I cant help myself.

I gripped the bouquet in one hand and hid it behind my back, straightening my posture before approaching her.

A cheeky smile formed on her face when her eyes met mine and a grin escaped me.

“Eivor, how are you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here.”

Grabbing her by the waist with my free hand, I pulled her in for a peck on her soft lips. Slowly, I revealed the flowers I picked for her and she looked down at the ground as if flustered by the small gesture.

“For me? That's so sweet…”

Exchanging the flowers from my hand she stood up tall to reach for a kiss and with a bend of my knees our lips met once again. Our hands clasped one another and I led her to show her around the new settlement then finally our new room in the longhouse. We exchanged some more passionate kisses in private before stopping and snuggling on the bed.

“There is something I wanna talk to you about.”

After hearing my words she repositioned herself, ready to listen to what I have to say.

“Of course, what is it?”

“Be honest with me, do you miss the future?”

“With every fiber of my being, there is so much that I miss. Everyday, I realize there is something that I miss about my time.”

I reached to stroke the hairs on the back of my neck and avoided making eye contact. The weight of her words hit me hard, to think she was in a foreign place with no one she knows. Noticing the change in my body language, she nudged my shoulder.

“There something else. Tell me the truth and look at me.”

“You want to go back, don't you?”

She placed her small hand over mine and pushed herself closer to me.

“Even though I miss it, I would give up all of that to stay here with you.”

I let out a sigh of relief and placed my hand on her thigh.

“Prove it, then. Show me how much you’ve missed me.”

Readers POV

Letting out a chuckle, I pushed Eivor on the bed and started to kiss her neck. Eivor let out a soft moan underneath me and started to caress my body over the tunic I was wearing. Already trying to reach for my shirt to pull it off, I pinned her hands back and gave her a passionate wet kiss. Eivor bit my bottom lip and started to squirm underneath me. She had all the strength to push my hands back but she let me hold her down instead. The heat radiating off our bodies grew as Eivor started to grind her pelvis underneath me, my legs wrapped around her.

I released her hands and started to explore her body, placing kisses on her collarbone. I lifted her shirt off and started to toy with her breasts, rubbing one of her pink nipples between my fingertips and my tongue making circles around the other whilst looking her in the eyes. Eivor moaned my name and arched her back as I continued to tease her. I ventured lower in between her rib cage and then back up, the tip of my nose rubbed against her ivory skin.

One of my hands ran up and down her torso as my fingers played with her belt buckle. From the downwards view I had of her I caught a glimpse of her biting her lip. After undoing her belt one notch at a time, I pulled her pants off along with her underwear as she lifted her body to aid me. Her subtle happy trail glimmered in the sunlight. Appreciating her body, I started to kiss her inner thighs and watched as Eivor melted into the bed. I pressed my fingers and massaged the folds of her labia, noticing she was even more wet for me than last time.

“Is this what you want, my wolf?”

Sticking my tongue out and swirling against her hole, I made sure to get a good taste of her. Eivor’s moans grew heavier and she pulled the hairs falling onto my face to the side to get a better view of me eating her out. My tongue started to focus on her swollen clit and began to flick with vigor. Eivor threw her head back trying to keep her eyes open as she spread her long legs wide for me to feast on her. My middle and ring finger slid into her wet pussy and started working her from the inside. Her walls clenched tight around me as I pounded and curled. Pulling my body up for Eivor to taste herself on my tongue, my fingers remained inside her but back to a steady pace. Eivor grabbed my face to kiss me harder and moaned in my mouth.

“You’re gonna make me cum all over you if you keep fucking me like that.” She whispered in my ear with her raspy deep voice.

While our tongues clashed, I stretched my fingers as far as I could and pounded her into oblivion with all the strength I had. I felt Eivor’s muscles twitch and saw her chest start to convulse as her cum coated my fingers. I pulled out of her and let her watch me lick my fingers clean. With no time to catch our breaths Eivor began to strip my clothes off one by one before pinning me down on my stomach onto the bed.

“How dare you fuck me with all your clothes still on!”

She pulled my arms back and latched onto my wrists kissing the back of my neck. Her firm authoritarian grip and the stretching of my back muscles and arms caused me a miniscule amount of pain that made me want her to really have her way with me.

“Mmm, what are you gonna do about it?” I let out a moan and gave her a cheeky grin.

Before I knew it Eivor’s hand met my bare ass with a slap, the sting making me moan out loud. My back arched and with small breaks she spanked me again and again. My eyes closed but quickly opened when I felt Eivor’s wet tongue start fucking me from inside, her rough hands grabbing onto my now red ass cheeks. Switching her focus she started to flick her tongue fast on my clit, almost making me climax. Eivor pulled herself up and started whispering in my ear.

“Oh, you better not cum yet… Such a dirty girl, letting me fuck you like this. You’re so damn loud, everyone will hear you.”

She cupped my mouth with the palm of her hand and muffled my moans, her other hand teasing the entrance of my soaking wet cunt. She slipped two long slender fingers inside of me, stretching me nicely, sliding from the tip of her fingers down to her knuckles with a steady pace. Her fingers twisted inside of me, making sure she filled me as deep as possible.

Eivor’s hot breaths onto the back of my neck sent chills down my spine. The sounds of her pounding me from behind and my suppressed moans were all that could be heard. Eivor didn’t care how loud she made me moan, only for the pleasure that she gave to my body and neither did I. The stress of the outside world quieted as we released onto one another.

A knock on the door interrupted us and suddenly we stopped, turning to one another with evil grins. Trying not to laugh, we rushed to put our clothes back on. Before now, I had never got dressed faster. Eivor fixed her shirt and fastened her belt buckle, fixing her hair. Feeling a little flustered, I ran to hide behind the door so whoever was behind it couldn’t see me in the room. Clearing her throat, Eivor straightened up and switched from her playful demeanor to her serious one before opening the door.

Eivor’s POV

“Well, don't stop now that I’m here. Continue just as you were, Wolf-Kissed...”

“Rollo, long time no see my good friend!”

Thankfully, Rollo was never one to judge people for what they do behind closed doors. After we gave one another a friendly embrace and exchanged a few jokes, our conversation turned to more important matters. So distracted from [y/n] returning, I completely forgot we had discussed plans for a raid this evening. Peeking past the door I noticed [y/n’s] face changed from an impudent smile to a sour expression. I told Rollo to give me a moment and wait outside before closing the door.

“You’re already hurt, why go on a raid?”

“I'm not sure how things are where you’re from, but this is normal. We lack resources, It’s what must be done. I'll be careful, just for you. Besides, plenty of others will be at my side.”

She crossed her arms and tilted her head while looking down.

“Also, what's this? I found it in your belongings when I was packing up my bedroom.”

I reached into a bag that held the clothes I found her in and a rectangular platform that lit up when held to the light. I shook it and gave it a bang on the table to see if It would do something else before she reached and grabbed it out of my hand.

“Dont! Holy shit, that's my phone!”

Your what?

After entering some sort of code, she swiped the strange gadget and It appeared as if she unlocked something on it.

Looks complex...

“There’s still some power in it, no service of course. Eivor, come here and look.”

Though confused, I took a look and she showed me an assembly of what she called, “pictures” of her previous life. She looked different and the world around her looked different. She showed me pictures of her with friends, and places she traveled to. My curiosity grew more from what she showed me. We don't have anything like this, so any doubts I had about what she told me completely disappeared. A loud bang on the door interrupted us, I assumed Rollo was getting impatient.

Damn, I have to leave.

I gave her a kiss and reassured her everything would be okay before leaving through the door.

#fem!eivor #fem eivor #eivor x reader #female eivor #ac valhalla #fan fiction #assasins creed #assasinscreed #writers on tumblr #series #reader insert

[zmassani]

BURNING AWAY THE PAST MILES RUSSELL x ADRIENNE SCAVO

Miles is hardly in the room when Adrienne already stands up, straight as an arrow. There’s a wilderness behind her eyes, something akin to an animal trapped in a cage. She’s more anxious than she lets on, the evidence of it piled on the floor in the form of whittled wood right next to the chair she’s been sitting in. She tucks her knife away.

“Did you get it?”

He nods, closing the door after him. They’re holed up in an old hunting cabin, deep in the middle of the woods. The nearby QZ had questionable security at best, and with his old uniform on, Miles had managed to infiltrate the walls two times now. First time was for generic supplies, but the second had a specific purpose. At Adrienne’s expectant look, he reaches to the back of his pants and from under his jacket retrieves a bottle that’d become the topic of many conversations over the past few weeks. An industrial grade chemical, sure to corrode dirt (and everything else) on its way.

She holds out a hand and he hands it to her, the bottle dirty and its label barely legible, but whatever is left in the bottle still just as potent. Adrienne turns the bottle in her hand, brows furrowed, before she moves to push it into her backpack.

“Let’s go.”

The trek is quiet, the plan (months in the making) the only occupant of the silence between them. They already scouted ahead a few days before, right after arriving at the cabin, to make sure the surrounding areas were clear. A kilometer’s distance from the cabin the dense woods made way to a clearing, and in the middle of it, a small pond. The waters were dark and leaves covered its surface, but most importantly, there were no signs of diseased bodies in the water. That was good enough.

Adrienne finds the most suitable spot by the pond and settles down with her backpack, starting to unravel its insides around her. Miles kicks away the biggest branches and then spreads the trashed piece of tarp they carry with them to be able to sit on the ground wherever they go. He puts down the vat and bucket they brought with them, and then leaves to go around the pond to secure the area once more. All he finds is the decomposed body of what once had been a person, but no signs of infected anywhere. He comes back to find Adrienne standing next to the tarp, turning her belt in her hands before starting to loop it back to her waist.

“I need your belt. Mine’s trash.”

Without further prompting Miles undoes his belt and pulls it out, handing it over to her expectant hand. He watches as Adrienne braces herself, breathes in deep before she finally finds her spot on top of the tarp and settles down on it. He watches as she pulls open the laces of her right boot and pulls off her sock. She rolls the leg of her pants up as high as it will go, securing it right underneath her knee.

Watching her is like watching a sacred ritual unfold, and he’s once again reminded by how little sanctity is in him. Higher power holds no place in his world, and thus he’s left with what’s on earth. Loss, sadness, uncertainty, the cruelty of man. And her.

“You have to do it.” Pulled out of his thoughts, Miles lifts his eyes up to her, his brows knitting into a line. She must sense he needs more elaboration, as she continues without missing more than a beat or two. “I can’t do it without messing up the whole foot.”

He lets his eyes scan her. She’s holding his belt in one hand and the bottle in the other, her hair tied back into the all-too-familiar ponytail to keep it out of the way. He draws in a breath.

“You’re sure about this?”

She nods, the way she doesn’t bite back somehow drilling in deeper than any of her words ever could. “Has to be done,” she says under her breath, clearly more to herself than to him, and as Miles settles down at her feet, he can hear her breathe in deep. He takes the bottle from her.

“Don’t stop.”

He lifts his eyes to her, immediately meeting her gaze -- she’s dead-set. This is a conversation they’ve had before. “Don’t stop even if I tell you to” and “don’t stop until it’s done” were familiar to them both, from the dozens of hours spent stitching each other together; and that’s the ending she doesn’t need to elaborate now either. Miles nods, and turns around so he’s sitting in between her legs, his back turned to her. With the vat placed between his thighs, he takes a hold of her right foot and brings it up to hold it firmly on top of the vat they’ve brought with them, her ankle over the opening.

He can hear the clatter of his belt’s buckle as Adrienne lifts the leather to bite it between her teeth. Miles breathes in, holds her foot in one hand and starts pouring the liquid onto the bitemark. He keeps his eyes on her leg, watching as the skin starts to react to the liquid. 

Behind him, he imagines how her face distorts, teeth digging into the leather of his belt. She breathes in sporadic bursts, all of her fighting against pulling her leg out of his grasp; anything to ease the pain he’s causing her. He needs to remind himself it’s what she wants; it’s what she insisted on for months before they came to this. They have an understanding. He still carries a scar on his face from the time they last had an understanding like this, albeit wordless then. He knows she still blames herself for what she did, even though they both know it was the least of what could’ve happened. It needed to be done for them to make it out alive, and in a way, this was exactly the same. Maybe they’re even now. 

The first wail that escapes her lips is shattering, and it makes his skin crawl. Every inch of him wants to put the bottle away and stop the process right there, but he fights against it, just grips her leg tighter and pours until the little left on the bottle has grazed her ankle and poured into the vat underneath it. He can feel Adrienne press her forehead against his back, and just as he sees the scarred flesh of her ankle start to turn, she’s holding on to him, her nails digging into his middle in search of even some steadiness. She’s trembling, but remains just as quiet throughout; only a few desperate, muffled sounds leaving her lips.

It’s the aftermath that’s worse. Miles fills the bucket again and again, pouring water on top of the open wound that’s formed to where the scar of the bitemark used to be. Her skin is raw, fraying at the edges, every bit of it turning an angry red. Her body is desperately trying to fix what was broken, and so far all it’s doing is causing more pain. He rinses the wound until the bright of the day falls into a gloomy afternoon, brief droplets of rain grazing Miles’ skin as he fights against the fatigue. Adrienne’s forehead is glistening, the belt no longer between her teeth but the indents of it still clear on the corners of her mouth, and there’s nothing he’d like more than to ease the pain she’s in.

“We need to get back. It’s getting dark.”

She nods, but the distant look in her eyes gives way to the very real repercussions of what they’ve done. It’s the known price for a life of even little ease, but it doesn’t make it easier to handle. She’ll need to recover, and only time will tell what the wound replacing the bite mark will be like. As she tries to stand up, she falters, and in a flash she’s lurching forward, leaning against her knees with her face hidden from him as she twists her body to get it off the tarp. She throws up, her body desperately heaving even when there’s nothing in her stomach to get rid of.

Miles goes further away from the pond to pour out the liquid in the vat, the chemical seeping deep into the soil as he turns and comes back to Adrienne. He rinses the vat and then watches as she stands up, barely able to keep herself straight. He helps her sit down again.

“Sit. I can do this,” he says, his voice low.

She’s too worn out to argue, and instead pulls her left leg tightly against her body in an effort to keep herself warm and steady. It is his ritual now. He gathers every evidence of the two of them and neatly tucks it all into the safety of their backpacks, gently pulling the tarp from underneath her to be able to pack it away, too. She sits still, and from the corner of his eye Miles can see her watching the undisturbed surface of the pond, focusing on the silent peacefulness of it. Whatever she’s thinking, she’s not letting him know.

Just as the darkness starts to fall, Miles tenderly helps Adrienne up and pulls her to his back. He has both of their backpacks strapped so that they hang on his front, both the bucket and the vat securely tied to their straps. He loops his arms under her thighs and secures her by leaning forward for a moment to help her settle. She hangs on to him with whatever’s left of her strength, her head resting on his shoulder as he starts to make his way back to the cabin. Her fingers grip the front of his shirt, the pads of them stroking the skin right above his collarbone.

The woods around them seem endless, and it’s the sort of endlessness Miles could get used to. He knows their journey is far from over, but for now; here; they have respite. In the middle of the forest they have calm, and even the looming QZ nearby doesn’t feel that heavy of a weight to handle. Miles focuses on keeping his pace slow and steady, making sure every step is calculated and won’t lead them to topple over. She’s silent for the majority of the way, the only sound she makes the breaths that warm his neck and make his skin shiver.

When she finally speaks, her voice is hoarse, and her fingers are still caressing the spot above his collarbone, the touch unexpectedly soothing. He wonders if she knows how little she has to do to help him keep calm.

“Thank you.”

#i have risen from my grave just to birth this and now i will crawl right back ok bye #otp: never trust a survivor #ma: writing #* writing #* mine #* 2021

[xaz-fr]

I like Clarissa. Like the other two she was also made via smacking the random button on the scrying workshop a few times. And she’s basically your grandma if your grandma could get it. Better not think too hard about that. 

Sliver of the Sun 2

The temple complex of Sirius was the biggest, most extravagant, lavish building Niek had ever seen. It housed fourteen priests and a huge collection of clerics and all the people needed to run such a huge complex. It was a wide garden with a huge structure in the middle sitting in the middle of the largest city in the known word, meandering paths wound through the grounds from the gates to the temple at its heart.

Niek held Ravi’s hand as they walked. She and Ernst were open mouthed staring since they arrived at Sirius. Ernst had no excuse, he’d grown up in Adhara, another large city in the same town chain as Sirius. Niek had to assume he’d been raised in a pond to be shocked by the sights of the city. Little Ravi had every excuse. She’d never seen anything like this.

“Ernst, stop looking like a slack jawed tourist,” Niek snapped at him. Ernst looked straight but his eyes still darted around looking at everything.

People moved quickly around their group. Here to worship or to enjoy the big garden, or just to work. With Niek in the lead they had to go at the pace of his hobbling cane. It made getting to the temple take even longer but there was no rush.

Finally the temple loomed overhead. Ravi’s head tipped back to look at the whole thing. During the night a beam of light shot out the top and pierced the heavens, pointed right at Sirius’ star in the sky. “Big,” she said, her pale eyes wide.

“Yes. For the brightest star in the sky,” Niek said nicely.

“Ohhh,” she said and they passed through the entrance of the temple. In here there were more clerics, noticeable as their pale blue robes and long braided hair.

Niek hailed a cleric. “Yes, my child, can I help you?” Niek didn’t like that they called him that, the cleric he’d hailed was barely older than Ernst!

“I need to see a priest,” Niek said.

“I’m sorry but the priests are not available to everyone,” the cleric said.

“Don’t give me that garbage,” Niek growled. He pulled out his alchemist badge. “I’m an alchemist. I will see one of Sirius’ priests now.” He stamped his cane to punctuate his point.

The cleric was only marginally impressed. “I see. Well you may put in a request-

“Ravi, dear,” Niek looked down at the girl. She looked from her gawking to him. “Will you show this stupid man here that trick you showed Ernst and I?”

“Huh? This?” she asked and held out her hand. The cleric shouted when a super heated light ray shot out of her hand and caught a nearby potted plant on fire.

“Yes, that, Ravi. Thank you,” Niek said. Then he turned back to the cleric. “Now I’d like to speak to a priest,” he said seriously.

The cleric was staring between the new fire and Ravi. He wasn’t the only one. “Ah— that won’t be necessary. I will take her-

“Oh no you will not,” Niek used his cane to crack the knuckles of the cleric when he reached to grab Ravi’s other hand. “You will take myself, my apprentice Ernst, and young Ravi to a priest.”

The cleric rubbed their hand painfully. A few other clerics had also noticed the fire and were rubber necking or approaching to see what the commotion was about. “Very well,” they said. They could at least get some credit by bringing Niek and the others to the priests. “Follow me,” he beckoned. They followed him, walking past the burning plant. Ernst had his eyes down now, cowed by what Ravi had done.

They walked through the atrium of the temple and past the front facing facade of the temple to the back chambers. The place Sirius’ harem of priests lived and did whatever it was priests of the most powerful star did. The open hallways were empty back here but the cleric didn’t mind. He led them back through the halls to a large chamber. It looked like the fanciest office Niek had ever seen but also a throne room somehow. A very very old woman was seated on the throne/desk chair looking at several scrolls stretched across the table.

Despite her age there was no confusion about what they were looking at. This was a priest. A very old one. At her age and power the priest shimmered softly in the light from the windows. “Excuse me, madam,” the cleric bowed respectfully.

“What do you bother me for now, Richken?” the priest asked, not looking up at him.

“I brought an alchemist and his apprentice-

“Then you should have showed them to priest Vani, you know he is more-

“And their charge, who can use magic,” Richken said, speaking over the priest.

The priest paused in what she was doing and slowly looked up at the group. “Come again?” she asked.

Richken went to speak but Niek pushed him aside. “Madam priest, I am Niek Nahuis, this is my charge Ravi,” Niek said, stepping forward up to the desk and leaning on his cane, still holding Ravi’s hand. “She fell from the sky like a star. But she is not a star.”

The priest looked at Niek, looked at Ravi, and then at Richken. “You may go, cleric,” she said.

“Ah— yes, of course, madam,” he bowed and left but seemed displeased to being sent away.

“I’m afraid I did not get your name, madam,” Niek said.

“Clarissa,” the priest said and stood. She stood without a stoop to her shoulders and had a proud stance. It was as though her age only touched her face but the rest of her body was still spry. She came around the side of the desk. “Ravi, you said her name was?” she asked Niek.

“Indeed,” Niek nodded.

“You name her that?”

“No,” Ravi said. “That is my name.”

Clarissa knelt in front of Ravi. “It is a nice name,” she said kindly. “Do you know where you are?” Ravi took a moment and then shook her head. 

“She knows she’s in the temple of Sirius,” Niek offered.

“Do you know where you come from?”

Ravi looked thoughtful. “Only that it is very bright,” she said. “And then it wasn’t bright, because everyone was so sad.”

“Do you remember how you came here?”

“Hmmm,” she looked up at Niek. “I remember waking up with Mr. Nahuis, in the middle of a- a geo?” she asked him.

“The rock that fell to earth was like a geode. The inside hollow full of natural crystal formations. She was also within the geode,” Niek elaborated.

“I see,” Clarissa said slowly. “Did you bring some of the crystal?”

“Yes. Ernst,” he said sharply. Ernst hopped forward and fumbled with the clasp on the bag longer than necessary to open it and pull out one of the large, transparent, yellow crystals. It was about the length of Ernst’s hand and an octagon in circumference. The inside looked not unlike it was glowing and in the dark it was able to be seen despite giving off no light itself. “All the crystals in the geode were this type.”

“I’ve never seen something like that,” Clarissa said. “Have you?”

“No,” Niek admitted.

She took the crystal and did something to it with magic. “It means nothing to me but several of my fellows will find this of great interest,” she said. She haded the crystal back to Ernst. “But you, young Ravi,” she turned her attention back to the little girl. “Can you do magic?” Ravi shrugged. “Could you show me?”

Ravi looked up at Niek. “Go on,” he encouraged her. “Just perhaps don’t set anything on fire, hmm?”

“But that’s the fun part,” Ravi said.

Clarissa chuckled. “It is. Here,” and with a wave of her hand she produced several sheets of paper. “You may burn this, Ravi.”

“Oh. Okay,” and she pointed at the papers. The super heated beam of light shot out of her finger tip and instantly the papers caught on fire. Clarissa let out a cry of delight and wonder.

“Oh my! That is... Major and Minor, I’ve never seen such a thing. Give me a moment,” and Clarissa stepped back to her desk. She picked up a glowing rock on the desk and closed her eyes. “Sirius, I know it is day, but please wake. Something requires your express attention,” she said softly but no softly they couldn’t hear.

“Mr. NAME, who’s Sirius?” Ravi asked.

“I told you,” he said with all little patience he had. “He is the brightest star in the sky.” There was no movement. “So, is he coming?” Niek asked Clarissa.

“Be patient,” Clarissa said, eyes still closed. She squeezed the stone, “Sirius, wake up. Come here. Now.”

Ernst gave a shout when a pillar of flame erupted from a circle of burnt stone on the floor. And there he was. Sirius. Resplendent, decedent. He looked like one of them with a dazzling display of antlers and liquid golden eyes with white pupils and overly large clothes like the type Niek would wear to bed. Next to him Ernst dropped to his hands and knees. Niek bowed low but not so low to hurt his back.

“Clarisssaaaa, what are calling me for? It’s so bright out,” Sirius groaned, sounding exhausted.

“Apologies, Sirius, but you must see this,” Clarissa said. “This girl, Ravi,” and Niek glanced up to see the two of them standing side by side, looking at the three of them. “Sirius? Why the look? Do you know this girl?”

Ravi’’s mouth was open a little, “I know you,” she pointed at him.

Niek’s eyes nearly fell out of his head at what Sirius did. “Ravi— oh Ravi,” and he bowed, deeply to the girl. “I fear knowing what brought you here to us.”

Ravi pulled her little hand out of Niek’s and walked over to Sirius. Niek straightened himself to watch. “Why are you bowing?”

Sirius stood up. “Clarissa, the brief?”

“She was a falling star. This alchemist found her and brought her here,” Clarissa said.

“Ah. Falling does knock the sense out of you,” Sirius said softly.

“Not that you have much to begin with,” Clarissa said like she just couldn’t help herself. From the ground Ernst gasped in shock Clarissa would say that to Sirius.

“Clarissa, not in front of the guests,” he scolded her. Clarissa just giggled. Then he returned his attention to Ravi and took a knee before her. “What do you remember? Tell me?”

“I remember it was very bright, and hot. Then it wasn’t. And it wasn’t because there was a lot of sadness.”

“Yes,” Sirius nodded.

Ravi looked at Sirius and then frowned. “I’m not— hmm!”

“What? You can say whatever you want,” Sirius took her hand.

“I’m not looking for you,” she said. “I’m looking for... I don’t know,” she admitted.

“I think I know,” Sirius said.

“You do?”

“Yes,” Sirius nodded.

“Your godliness,” Niek couldn’t help but interrupt. The god turned his attention to him and Niek admitted it was a bit intimidating. “What is this girl? Is she a star?”

“No,” Sirius said. “No no no,” he stood up, still holding her hand. “She is much more than that. Perhaps not all of it. But enough.”

“Then what is she?”

Sirius was thoughtful. “Do you know, alchemist, that the sun is also a star?” Niek nodded slowly. Based on observations it was determined that the same things that made up their stars also made up their sun when they were celestial bodies. No one was sure exactly what those compositions were of course but the alchemists did know they were similar. “The biggest star in the sky, that we only see during the day.” Niek still didn’t understand. “Large enough and powerful enough that it could lose part of itself and not even notice, that no one would even notice.” Niek’s eyes widened. “What sweet Ravi here isn’t a star really. She’s a piece of the sun.”

Niek dropped down on his hands and knees next to Ernst. That seemed like a good place to start.

#flight rising #fr lore #fr lore share #lore share #celestials #Sliver of the Sun #shut up bb

[lostinfantasies38]

Sun Touched Ch. 3  A Broken Beginning

Alistair/Sirra Brosca 

Rating: Explicit for language, violence, and eventual smut

Alistair was still sore after flying across the tower and then barreling into the ogre, as he discovered when he rolled his shoulders to work the kinks out.   He glanced furtively at Sirra as she rifled through the various crates and barrels scattered around the walls of the chamber and some of his soreness faded. He knew she could have killed the ogre without his help, yet an irrational need to help her flared within him when he saw her scaling the darkspawn like a mountain while it flailed, attempting to fling her off it.

Maker, that is so inconvenient, he mused as he rubbed his forehead wearily. That’s when he felt it – the tell-tale oiliness of darkspawn crawling like ants in his head; but he was too slow to respond. Too slow to warn Sirra whose back faced the door as she walked towards him with a teasing smile. Darkspawn burst into the tower and Alistair watched the surprise and pain twist her features as she took three arrows. He reached for her, her name half-formed on his lips, when he was struck in the side and his breath whooshed out of him, replaced by agonizing pain where the barbed head ripped through skin and muscle. He hit the ground and his body screamed in protest, his eyes squeezing shut with a strangled hiss.

Rolling in and out of consciousness, at one point he became aware enough to find the darkspawn were gone. Alistair cast his eyes frantically to find her with his darkening vision. Relief bloomed through his broken body when he located her. Crawling towards her, panting and sweating as his flesh tore further with every movement, Alistair kept going – determined to reach her. He had to know. He had to be sure. Tears pricked his eyes when he finally made it to her side.

There was an arrow in her shoulder, one in her side, and one deep in her thigh. He took her chin and gently turned her to face him, indulging himself with the opportunity to run his thumb across her ‘s’ tattoo. The pulse in her neck was weak, but he could see it was still thumping and hope sparked in his chest. Laying his arm protectively over her form, Alistair succumbed to the blackness pounding on the door of his consciousness and accepted his end with resignation.

*~*

Alistair blinked against the light, bringing his arm up to shield his sensitive eyes from the sudden onslaught of brightness with a groan. Sitting up he was startled to discover that he was practically naked, covered with a threadbare blanket on a straw filled mattress, if the stabbing of the ticking was any indication. He was in a small single room hut and it smelled faintly of elfroot and sage – antiseptic, medicinal. Was this a healer’s house? Where was everyone else? Maker, where was Sirra?

He shot out of the bed and searched wildly for her, yet he already knew the room was empty aside from him. Raking his hands through his hair in distress, Alistair snagged his breeches and undertunic from his piled-up armor in the corner, slamming his feet into his boots and rushed out of the building in a panic.

The sun nearly blinded him pulling him up short in his harried search. An aggravated huff emanated on his left and he risked peeking through his fingers, immediately bristling. “You! Where is she? What have you done with her, Chasind?”

Morrigan deposited the stack of firewood she was carrying and brushed the bark bits from her hands with an imperious roll of her strange yellow eyes. “Calm yourself, Warden. Your fellow lady Warden is being tended to.”

Alistair glared and threw his arms up in frustration. “Where?! We’re the only ones here and there is only one hut here!” The apostate refused to answer his question, only pulling fresh herbs from a satchel that was slung over her shoulder and adding them to a pot of boiling water hanging over a nearby fire.

Patience gone, Alistair growled darkly. “Are you going to tell me, witch? Where…is…she?”

Another voice he recognized answered him. “She is here, Grey Warden. You worry too much.”

He spun to see Morrigan’s mother dragging a small litter behind her with a familiar body strapped to it. Alistair gasped at the gray tinge to her skin, the lackluster quality to her normally shiny hair, and the deep bruises under her eyes.

“Maker’s breath…is she –“

“Alive? Yes. Only just, however, so I need you to calm yourself, young man. I’m taking her inside so I can finish tending her and you are going to wait out here. Do you understand?”

Alistair nodded mutely as the women unstrapped Sirra from the litter, but he brushed them aside to pick her up and waited for them to argue. They all knew that while she might look small, dwarves were stocky and therefore, not light. “I’ll help you get her inside and then leave you to your work.” The old woman cocked her head at him curiously, but did not reply as she led the way inside the hut.

Morrigan stripped the bed of the blanket, leaving only the crisp white sheet covering the mattress and Alistair swallowed hard as he laid her carefully on the bed, trying not to imagine her blood staining the stark bedding. The women shooed him out the door, Morrigan slamming the wooden barrier in his face when he turned around, leaving him outside fretfully wringing his hands.

He wandered over to the edge of the small pond and sat down on the flattest rock he could find, snagging a cattail to fiddle with. Maker, what a disaster – he hadn’t even asked about the army yet, but he knew if they were here, hidden in the wilds that it probably wasn’t good news. Flashes of the battle danced through his mind: darkspawn everywhere, blood drenched floors, fiery blades casting odd shadows on her face, killing the ogre, light dimming in her dark brown eyes when the arrows hit her, pain lancing through his chest even though that’s not where he’d been struck.

Tossing aside the shredded remains of the cattail, Alistair buried his face in his hands and dug his palms into his eyes, sucking in one ragged breath after another. He hadn’t done enough to protect her – as the senior of the two of them he should have been paying attention, instead the darkspawn got the jump on them. Maker! If she died, then he would be responsible for her death and he didn’t think he could live with the guilt. He was too distracted by Sirra and he hadn’t been doing his job. His job of making sure they survived the battle and being her mentor, not the drooling lecher that he was turning into.

His mind unwittingly recalled the softness of her body when she aided him in the field. There were callouses on her hands and strength in her legs, but there was a layer of padding covering her muscles that he found irresistible. He could imagine his large hands kneading her generous curves, his lips pressed against her full mouth, while her fingers tangled in his hair – Maker’s breath! He stood up angrily, running a hand across his face.

He couldn’t keep doing this. She was his Sister Warden, newly arrived to the surface and not even a full day past her Joining where they lost two good men. If Duncan knew what lewd thoughts crossed his mind, he would skin him alive.

Anxiety rolled through his gut at the thought of his noticeably absent Commander. Where was the army? Where were the other Wardens? Duncan? The King?

The door of the hut creaked open.  The older woman stepped out and wrapped a folded towel around the handle of the pot with the steeping herbs. Alistair moved closer and whispered, afraid of speaking the words aloud, but needing to know.

“What of the army?” The woman stared at him, her face neutral and giving nothing away, yet the pointed silence was answer enough. He stumbled back a few paces in shock.

“I am sorry, young man. I can explain all when your friend is stable.” Alistair nodded, watching forlornly as she stepped back in the hut and left him alone. It seemed he was fated to be alone forever.

*~*

Sirra woke up slowly. Her nose was assailed with a strange fragrance and she realized she was laying on something lumpy and scratchy with twigs poking her tender flesh. Sitting up with a moan, she pressed a hand to her forehead and tried to get her bearings.

“Ah, your eyes finally open. Mother will be pleased.” She recognized the voice. Glancing across the room she found Morrigan adding chopped vegetables to a stew bubbling over the hearth. What was it with humans and stew?

“Morrigan? Where am I? What happened?” The witch studied her thoughtfully and moved closer.

“What do you remember?”

Sirra closed her eyes as flashes of the battle in the tower filled her mind. Overrun with darkspawn, black blood running in rivers across the stone floor, hazel eyes full of worry, strong jaw clenched with dread, taking down the wounded ogre, horror on his face when the arrows hit her, and then darkness.

She shook her head. “Not much. I remember being overtaken by darkspawn.”

“Mother rescued you from the tower. The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field. The darkspawn won your battle. The army was massacred.”

Sirra’s head spun with the information. The cunning side of her brain wanted to ask how the witch’s mother knew where they were and why she rescued them, but it was too hard to focus when a larger question loomed in her mind.

“Where is Alistair?”

Morrigan tilted her head slightly at her and responded, “The suspicious, dim witted one that was with you at the ruins?” She waved a hand airily at Sirra’s glare. “He is outside with Mother. He is not taking the news well.”

Sirra recalled Duncan’s timely rescue in Orzammar; his belief that she was worth something and his easy companionship on the road. The warm welcome of the King when she arrived at Ostagar, not caring that she was branded, shaking her hand like a friend. Daveth’s flirtatious teasing about watching her back after the wolf encounter in the woods, Ser Jory’s praise of her skills in battle – and now they were all gone. Her heart ached at the loss, regretting that she would never be able to meet the other Grey Wardens, and she felt guilty to be secretly thankful Alistair survived.

Trailing her fingers over the new star-shaped scar on her shoulder, Sirra carefully slid off the bed to get dressed. Morrigan returned to stirring the stew while she pulled on her leggings and tunic. Sirra paused and stared at her armor for a heartbeat. “Who cleaned my armor?”

“Your Warden friend. Oh, Mother asked to see you when you awoke, by the way.”

Remembering how coated with gore her armor had been clenched her gut. She knew they must have taken a long time to clean. A full day, at least. Her hoarse voice was quiet when she spoke again. “How long have I been out?”

The dark-haired woman stopped stirring and slowly raised her unusual eyes to meet her hard stare. “Three days. Your injuries nearly took your life on multiple occasions. Mother only declared you safe from death’s grasp last night.” Sirra nodded absently as she quickly donned her leathers and strapped her polished daggers to her back.

Halting at the door of the hut, Sirra slowly turned to face the standoffish woman by the hearth. “Thank you, Morrigan.”

The witch was momentarily speechless, but managed to find her tongue and stammer. “I…you are welcome.”

Sirra yanked open the wooden barrier and stepped out into the dusky light of preeminent sunset. It surprised her that after such a short time on the surface she was able to recognize the time of day by the light. Maybe because it was her favorite time of day, when the world was washed in coppery orange and blushing pink – soft and warm. Similar to the flickering torches and lava river underground. Not the same colors, but the same feeling, helping her feel more grounded topside.

Of all the stories she heard growing up about the dreaded surface, the fact that the light changed colors during the day was never mentioned. Nor that it warmed her skin like a gentle hug, but could burn her pale complexion with too much exposure. There was so much the dwarves had wrong about the surface and the people who lived under its open sky.

Alistair stood ramrod straight, staring over the small body of water that she didn’t have a word for yet. He reminded her of the carvings of the Paragons in the entryway to Orzammar she passed when she left. Stoic, proud, lifeless – not like himself at all and it made her skin crawl. They were all that was left of the Grey Wardens. All that remained of Ostagar. She worried that this blow would change him – change them and this weird friendship they were building. Sirra needed something good on the surface; it was her home now and she had no one else. Tearing her gaze from his chiseled profile, her eyes narrowed at the bemused expression of the old woman studying her.

“Here is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much, young man.” The old woman smirked when Alistair whirled around. Shock etched his face and he moved haltingly toward her; arms extended as though he intended to hug her. Catching himself, Alistair shook his head and patted her shoulder instead. A pang of regret burned bright in her gut. Looking up at him, she saw the unspoken pain swirling in his normally warm eyes, cooled to embers in mourning. Without thinking, Sirra brought her hand up to cover his own that still rested on her shoulder.

With a sad smile he stepped back and dropped his arm listlessly. “You’re alive. I thought…” He swallowed hard, flicking his gaze from her face with a blush and crossed his arms abruptly. “This doesn’t seem real, you know? They’re…dead. All dead – Duncan, the Wardens, even the King.” His expression pinched at the mention of the king and Sirra wondered what it must be like to have an allegiance to nobility. She had been barely invested in her alliance with Beraht – only for Rica’s sake and the protection the Carta afforded them did she work for the scumbag.

“I’m sorry, Alistair. I know I’m a poor consolation prize.” Sirra dropped her gaze, suddenly unsure of her footing with him, though she couldn’t say why. He sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth and tilted her head up revealing a heavy frown marring his golden features.  

“Don’t say that, please. Don’t even think it. I am so glad you are here with me. I-I can’t do this alone.” Alistair paused and then closed his mouth, leaving Sirra wondering what else he wanted to say, but accepting his statement all the same.

“I’m sorry. So…what do we do now?”

Curling his lip into a sneer, Alistair stepped back and began pacing furiously. “We bring Loghain to justice! Why would he do this?!” Sirra could have told him why – power, money, fame, glory. Those were simply the first reasons that came to mind when she remembered others from her past life that strove for more than what they felt they deserved.

The old woman was of the same mind and did not hesitate to tell him such. “Don’t be naïve, boy. He would not be the first king to come into the throne through murder.”

Alistair turned on her with a growl, fists clenched as his entire body shook with barely checked fury. “Shut. Up. Just because you may be right, doesn’t mean that everyone wants to be reminded all the damn time.”

Sirra studied her companion. She wouldn’t have guessed that he was capable of such anger, but she would remember for later. The woman merely nodded at him, her mouth quirked slightly at the edges and Sirra idly wondered what sort of woman would be amused by a giant of a man bellowing in her face. Obviously, someone who was not entirely who they claimed. Her Carta instincts kicked in and she stepped closer to Alistair with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Who are you,” Sirra demanded authoritatively.

Alistair snapped his head down to glance at her, his expression softening into curiosity as his gaze returned to the old woman. The woman chuckled and waved her hand dismissively. “Names are pretty, but useless. The Chasind call me Flemeth – I suppose it will do.”

Alistair reeled beside her. “The Flemeth? Daveth was right…you’re the Witch of the Wilds, aren’t you?”

Flemth scoffed. “So, I know a bit of magic. It has served you both well, but now we have bigger things to contend with. What do you plan to do about Loghain? You are Grey Wardens, aren’t you?”

Alistair raked his fingers roughly through his hair. “I don’t know! What can we do? We don’t have an army and all the Grey Wardens in the entire nation were on the front lines! I suspect that the reinforcements Duncan sent for from Orlais will be handled by Loghain…one way or another.”

Sirra blew out a frustrated breath. “There must be other allies the Wardens can call on?”

Alistair shrugged. “I suppose.” Snapping his fingers, he smiled unexpectedly. “Of course! Arl Eamon wasn’t at the battle – he still has all his men. We could go to him and appeal for aid!”

Sirra raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Would he help us?”

The man flashed a strained smile. “Yes. I know him. He’s a good man, respected at the Landsmeet and he was Cailan’s uncle. So, he has a personal motivation to see Loghain pay for his treachery.”

She nodded, but then sighed. “It’s still not enough, though, is it? We’ll need more than one man’s army to back us against the darkspawn.”

Alistair smacked his forehead lightly with his palm. “The treaties! Duncan gave them to me for safekeeping. They require dwarves, elves, and mages to help us when we call for aid!”

Flemeth smirked. “Well, that certainly sounds more like an army. So, are you all set then?”

Alistair nodded enthusiastically, but Sirra felt the weight of anxiety settle in her gut. Could they do this? There were only two of them in all of Ferelden and she was technically new to the country, having lived underground her whole life, and now she would be expected to scour the nation for allies because a stupid human decided to let the King and his entire army die? And Orzammar – really? She had been hoping she would never have to set foot there again. She was just getting used to the idea of the surface being a better option for her – a place to call home.

Yet, she knew this was the only way. This was just like the ogre in the tower – the only way to their goal was forward and this was the path they needed to tread.

 Stone guide my steps.

Extending her arm, Alistair grinned broadly and clasped her forearm like she had the first time they met, shaking once – firm, strong, sure. Sirra smiled back and answered Flemeth’s question though she looked at the handsome human when she spoke.

“Yes, we’re set. It’s what Grey Wardens do; build armies and stop Blights.” His fingers squeezed meaningfully into her flesh before he released her. Sirra turned to Flemeth. “Thank you for saving us and getting us on our feet again.”

Flemeth smiled, her sharp eyes appraising the shorter woman with interest. “Well, we can’t have the last of the Grey Wardens dying, now can we? Before you go, there is one thing I can yet offer you.”

Morrigan exited the hut and sauntered over to them. “The stew is ready, Mother. Shall we have two guests for dinner or none?” Sirra’s back straightened and she eyed the older woman askance, her Carta instincts buzzed in warning and she had a feeling what Flemeth was about to offer them was not a ‘thing,’ so much as a ‘who.’

Flemeth snorted in derision. “The Grey Wardens are leaving shortly, girl. And you will go with them.”

“What?!” Alistair and Morrigan both screeched, while Sirra stared hard at the older woman. She knew in her duster bones honed by years of backstabbing Carta politics that there was an ulterior motive for thrusting Morrigan upon them. But she knew, and Flemeth did too, that there were only two of them. They desperately needed allies and a mage would certainly come in handy, as their time in the Tower of Ishal attested. Fireballs were excellent friends when fighting large groups.

Alistair dipped his head to her level, whispering harshly in her ear, “Do you really want to take her because her mother says so?”

Sirra covered her mouth with her hand and murmured back. “No, I don’t and I don’t trust them, but we need allies. We need a mage to cover our backs. We’ll keep an eye on her, but we can’t afford to say no, Alistair.”

He sighed despondently and rubbed his forehead in agitation. “Shit. I know, I know. Fine. I agree only because you don’t trust her any more than I do.”

“We accept,” Sirra replied to Flemeth. The older woman smiled almost hungrily and Sirra heard Alistair’s loud gulp above her.

Morrigan threw up her hands and squawked. “Have I no say in this?”

“You’ve been wanting the leave the Wilds for years. Here is your chance,” Flemeth snapped.

“But –“ Morrigan’s words died on her lips at the warning scowl on the older witch’s face and she sighed. “Yes, Mother. I have to…gather my things.”

Flemeth rocked back and forth on her heels delightedly. “You should eat before you go. Morrigan will be able to get you safely through the woods, but it will take a close to a week, especially with all the darkspawn in the area. However, you should be able to find a safe place to bed down for the night. She will know of the place, I mean. It is not far, but it will get you some distance from the hut, in case you need to shake off pursuit.” The woman bustled inside to presumably fill a couple of bowls with stew for them.

Alistair sighed and ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I hope this doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass.”

“Me, too,” she murmured and he snorted in response. Shooting him a sideways glance, Sirra asked in a light tone. “So, you said you know this Arl?”

He stammered and rubbed the back of his neck. “Did I say that? Hmm, how strange. Oh, look! Food!” Alistair hurried away when Flemeth emerged from the hut with bowls of steaming stew. Shaking her head at her companion and the weird food preferences of humans, Sirra walked over and gratefully accepted the offering. By the time they were finished eating and had collected their bags, Morrigan was packed and ready to go. Thanking Flemeth again, the Wardens followed the witch’s daughter into the woods with equal parts uncertainty and grim determination.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21970717/chapters/52890505#workskin

#Alistair x Sirra #alistair theirin #dragon age #dragon age origins #my writing #original oc #original wip #dragon age fanfiction

[firebird-inkheart]

I had a dream with Kaka/shi in it and, much like all my other f/o dreams, it sure was, ah, vividly interesting. 

―――

It started off with the two of us meeting up again after a long time. He said something teasing to me and in retaliation I denied him a cookie (yes, a pleasantly odd start, but still endearing to me in ways I can’t explain). When he sat down though he got quite serious, apologizing to me for not being around to “protect” me when I needed it most. I went on to explain a situation I had been in in the past― which now that I think about it, was actually the state of mind I had been in before I had graduated high school, though it had been phrased as if it had only happened earlier this year; depressed, anxious, and a mixture of angry and afraid due to the circumstances occurring at home at the time ―which made him feel worse. But then I’d gone on to speak about how I’d recovered from it, how I was doing so much better and actually taking care of myself now. I was glad that he’d come back and that he seemed earnest to make things up to me.

He told me that if I ever needed him then he’d just be a call away.

Then there was a bit of a skip here in which I don’t remember how the dream transitioned, but I distinctly recall Prince of Egypt vibes for some reason. I remember a very small scene where I was looking at a file with Kakashi’s info on it, but he was called “Cain” or “Cein”, as if to reference canine I think. And then I was moving on again.

I had been invited to this mansion as part of a research program. What it was for I can’t recall, but there had been something fishy going on with the organizers of it, and I had happened to overhear a conversation I wasn’t supposed to hear. I was part of something big, no more than another experiment myself.

There was a bathroom nearby. I hid in it and locked the door as the man, one of the two organizers I’d overheard, moved down the hallway.

The door unlocked and popped open just a little bit as he passed by. I panicked, but didn’t make a move, hoping he hadn’t noticed a thing. The man kept going. As quickly as I dared I shut the door again and locked it.

A blade ran through the door, and then, to further my horror, the lock popped open again, the man on the other side unlocking it. I tried locking it once more but it did nothing to help as he just unlocked it again. And then he began to hack the door apart while I tried to keep the door pushed shut myself.

I was trapped, weaponless, and terrified out of my mind. I didn’t want to die, I didn’t want to die, I didn’t want to die. The door was giving out in an unnervingly easy manner. I barely remembered what Kakashi had told me; I slammed a drawer from the nearby sink open and used it to block the door while I called him.

It was stupid to think an actual phone call would work. He hadn’t answered. He wasn’t “just a phone call away”.

There was only one way out now, and that was a long way down from the window to the ground. My fear of heights outweighed the fear of the man hacking his way through the door with the intent to ram his sword through me― Of course the acrophobia wins out against the more immediate and pressing danger of death by brutal murder. What else did I expect from myself? I can only sink to the floor, crying and begging to be anywhere else, be with anyone else.

“Kakashi!” I sobbed as the man finally broke through the door. “Kakashi please! I need you!”

To be on the precipice of death is an experience I detest in dreams. My heart would rather give out first from beating so fast― fast enough that it almost seems slow, yet hard enough that it could almost break from it’s cage of flesh and bone, and each beat sends a fire so searing through my chest that I have to wonder if that’s what it feels like to swallow lava before bursting into flames ―before I die of whatever is trying to kill me in the dream. Fearing death at the hands of stranger whose face I can no longer recall, for reasons that don’t make any sense other than I had happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time hearing the wrong thing. It was only a dream, but it had felt real in the moment. Too real.

And then the saving grace arrived, late as usual.

“Yo. Sorry I took so long.”

Tears of fear turned to that of relief; I was still shaken though, too paralyzed to do much more than tremble at that point. Kakashi smiled briefly at me before turning to the adversary, the flash of rage shining brightly in his eye. He wordlessly exchanged blows with the man― wordless because there was nothing he could say that could truly convey the sheer acrimony of what he felt in that moment ―and he knocked the enemy clear out of the room. Then he was at my side, pulling me up and helping me stand. Kakashi bore no reservations about jumping out window if it meant escape. But then again, Kakashi both possessed a set of skills which allowed for him to pull such stunts as well as didn’t possess a glaringly strong fear of heights like I did.

We were running across the lawn, a space so ridiculously vast and it only seemed to keep growing. The man that tried to kill me had only been stunned for a moment, not enough to get a proper lead, especially not with as sluggish as I was. It became a race, a game, then. The pace in which we ran and which they fought was brutal. At times I was running on my own as Kakashi forced the man further back, to keep him away from me. Other times I was only aware of the sensation of his gloved hand wrapped tightly around mine, tugging me forward.

We reached a pond surrounded by lava rock― a feature I only recognized simply because I had grown up surrounded by it my whole life. Kakashi had broken away from me again to clash with the man and his sword. I lost track of them as a blinding light blazed across my vision. 

When I could see again, there, standing upon the rocks, was the other organizer, a woman, who had called for my death. She tried to convince me that if I surrendered then and there that I could still be an important asset, that I didn’t have to die, but there were traps filled with razors lining her pretty words. If an asset was so important then murder shouldn’t have been the first means of resolving conflict.

She had a gun cocked and ready. I was right to not believe her. 

There was a blur again where I lost notion of how things transitioned, only the brief recollection that I hadn’t been shot, just merely shot at, and that the woman’s head had made personal acquaintance out of the rocks she’d tried to use as a pulpit. 

Kakashi had won his battle, nothing to be seen of the man except his sword sticking straight up from the water. But he had not gone unscathed. His shirt was torn, and he had collapsed against the rocks. I managed my way to him on shaky legs, practically crawling towards him near the end. When I had reached him I collapsed on top of him. My arms snaked around his neck and I clung onto him for dear life. There seemed to be no end to my tears that night.

And he wound his arms around me. 

Physical sensation is a rarity in my dreams, unless it’s pain, or a bodily reaction to fear. But when he returned my embrace, he felt solid. Whole. Real. There was a pleasant warmth to be found in the arms of someone you loved and who in turn loved you; peace of mind, serenity, safety― An ease in which we simply existed and nothing could hurt us. A feeling I have not often felt in waking life, but treasure always when it visits me in my dreams.

“I’m sorry I was late,” he apologized again, this time with less bravado and more sincerity. “Thank you, though, for believing in me this time.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled into his chest, “for coming running when I called for you.”

The edges of sleep were fraying away into awareness of the world outside. I only had a few more precious moments with him. He seemed to know this too, his hold growing just a little tighter as he whispered in my ear:

“For you then I’m always just a call away.”

#honyo writes #f/o; Kakashi #self shipping #self ship #ask to tag #long post #self ship fic #dreamship ship dreams

[pennys-th0ughts]

The Bond (Chapter One)

… And life slowly left her body as a subtle and relieving shiver that brought peace and every trace of sadness, finally, faded away…

Three bright and shinning dots were dancing slowly on the palm of my hand; they looked pretty much like three tiny stars playing some kind of children’s game, taking turns to shine brighter in front of my eyes. The sky was darker than usual that night seeming to reflect the deepest echoes coming from the bottom of my being. Something was cracking inside of me and I couldn’t know what it was but the feeling was like thousands of sharp needles piercing my entire body. I was feeling powerless and, ironically, empty. That moment felt like it lasted years and I was watching the scene sequence in slow motion over and over again and once it finished, it repeated again, tearing my insides apart one more time. I grabbed my head with both hands and began plunging my nails in the middle of my scalp until blood started to flow drawing thick lines all over my face. I kept forcing open the wound until I heard skin and flesh being tearing apart and, strongly pulling from both sides, I finally managed to rip up the human shell that was keeping my true me hiding. This ends here and now – I thought to myself and jumped into the pitch black void waiting to be fed…

 A hand landed on my shoulder giving me a little start.

– ¿Are you alright? – Her tender voice made me snap out of it.

I looked down until I only saw her small feet in front of mine; she sat down next to me and searched for my wandering eyes. Her inviting gaze was so persistent that it finally made me look at her eyes; those beautiful mortal gateways full of life that somehow, in that very moment, became some kind of mystic meaning to my never-ending existence. I remained silent for some minutes until I could get a grip of myself and bring the strongest side of my multiple shapeshifting personality.

– Yes, everything is alright, my dear – I finally said in a sigh trying to fake a smile.

–  You seemed upset – she accurately pointed out-. ¿Are you sure you are okay?

I fixed my deep blue eyes with her unique blue-and-green ones and deeply breathing in, I said:

– I am now…

 Minutes became hours and hours became days. Days flew by like a magnificent hummingbird showing off its beautiful iridescent colors in a warm spring morning. The birds were chirping outside and the light rain was hitting against the window as if it was saying hello. Not so far there was a rainbow displaying a soft color palette, making a big effort to stand out from behind the clouds.

Amy was already up and I was still in bed trying my best to wake up from a long night of movies and popcorn. She knew those crunchy little things were my favorite so she made a bunch of it. We used to love spending rainy nights watching scary movies despite Amy would spend most of said time covering her eyes at any slight spooky scene, which I thought it was sweet and would take the chance to hug her tight.  

I was about to get up when Amy’s cat jumped on my lap, he spun around a couple times over my chest and began to purr. The story about this kitty and me didn’t have a good start since he apparently hated me from the very first second he saw me but I can’t really blame the poor creature, he was used to Amy’s presence only and I arrived to their lives like an unexpected summer storm. He wouldn’t stop hissing at me and behaving in a defensive way until, according to Amy’s instructions of ignoring him; he would finally give up being so cranky and accept he will be no longer the only alpha male in the house.

The smell of coffee just made ended up waking me up for good. I got dressed and went down stairs to join Amy for breakfast. We had a long day ahead and there was nothing better than to start it with a delicious strong flavor in the palate.

Things didn’t start as many would think and to get to this very point Amy would have to deal with her biggest fear first.

It all began one cloudy, cold and dark night when snowflakes stopped falling from the sky and the bright stars of winter started to shine harder, clearing the path to a new and more cheerful season.

Amara, as her actual name was, had decided to spend some hours skating in the public ice skating rink that afternoon. Soon that rink would become was usually was, a not so large pond where ducks would come back and swim again. People started to leave when the first shades of the night broke into the slowly dying sunset, leaving Amara all by herself. I suppose she didn’t mind to be alone since I saw her enjoying that moment of solitude. I was watching her from behind the pale white trees, poking my head out from time to time trying not to raise suspicions about my presence since I was also enjoying her delicate and neat performance on the ice. In one moment I got distracted she lost control of one of her feet and crashed against the floor so heavily that for a second I thought it would break under her weight. My heart skipped a bit and my pulse managed to accelerate its pace in a fraction of a second making me feel it in my throat. She remained on the cold floor for some minutes until she finally sat down and began rubbing the knee she had hit. I unconsciously stood up and made a step forward not realizing that she would probably freak out because of my aspect so quickly hid behind the tree and changed my appearance to a friendlier one.

– ¡Hey! – I walked towards her speeding my pace up - ¿Are you okay?

The surprised looked on her face revealed that I caught her without notice but she apparently didn’t mind and answered me back making her best to sound confident.

– ¡Hi, yes, I'm alright!

Once closer to her I knelt to take a look to her knee. She had suffered a quite strong hit in her knee cap and a not so deep scratch had left some thin lines of blood on sight. I offered myself to help her and get her sit in one of the nearest benches so we could take care of her little accident. She hesitated at first but she finally agreed. I took her arm and made her surround my neck with it so she could have more stability to walk and limp less.

– Pretty nasty fall you had there – I pointed out frowning at the slightly purple coloring her skin was starting to develop.

The girl chuckled a little embarrassed of being clumsy but it actually that fall wasn’t completely her fault since the ice floor was somewhat cracked in that part and that was what made her lose balance. I was so absorbed by taking care of her bruise that I barely stopped to pay attention to her physiognomy. When her knee was at last covered by a little bandage, I finally sat down next to her on the bench and sighed.

– That was very nice of you – I heard her shy and yet very sweet voice-. Thank you…

– Gray, Robert Gray – I hurried to introduce myself politely-. ¿And you are…?

She moved away a lock of her black her, placing it behind her ear and locked her different colored eyes with mine.

– I'm Amara, Amara Whitemoon – she shook my hand- but you can call me Amy.  

The beauty of her blue and green eyes was captivating and being my first time seeing such a unique genetic mischief kept me staring at her like a child watching a big bowl full of warm buttered popcorn.

– You are really pretty… - I unconsciously said at loud, and then I realized how bad that probably must have sounded-. Oh, I'm sorry, I didn’t-

Amara smiled with something more than sweetness in her lips that made me swallow with some difficulty but also got me distracted from the delicious smell of some drops of blood that managed to get through the bandage. Its sugary base with some metallic notes was threating me to make me drool and sometimes it wasn’t easy for me to notice it until it was too late but, fortunately, this wouldn’t be the case.

I helped Amara to stand up; she pulled up the hood of her coat and smiled at me once more. I was too focused on her lips that I barely heard what she was saying until the daydream bubble I was floating inside of burst.

– Thank you for being so kind and helping me, Robert – she said looking down-. ¿Would you like to join me for a coffee as a sign of gratitude?

I hesitated for a second if it would be a good idea but seeing so much excitement in her eyes was like a powerful kick to my will that made me accept her invitation. I put the rest of my belongings inside my bag pack and we started our way back to town.

It was ten o’clock and in on our way to the nearest cafe we got to talk about a few things regarding our civil status, studies, likes and dislikes and a very tricky one, our place of residence. I tried to avoid answering this last one at all cost since I was sure Amara wouldn’t like it one bit.

– ¡We are finally here! – She said with an enthusiastic tone and grabbing hold of my arm, she almost pushed me inside.

I let her pick the table and we sat down placing our things on an empty chair. We waited for the waitress to come and give us the menus. Amara told me to pick whatever I wanted but since it was the first time being out of the sewers for something that wasn’t my usual meal, I limited myself to have the simpler of the drinks possible, besides water of course. Amara, on the contrary, ordered a cappuccino, a couple of croissants and a half-size glass of orange juice.

– ¿Are you going to be okay with a simple coffee? – She asked curious but more confident than minutes before.

I shrugged my shoulders not knowing what to answer. Amara waved her hand to the waitress and asked her to bring me the same she would have, me, on the other hand, tried unsuccessfully to avoid her spending too much money in our not-at-all-planned-and-accidentally-improvised date.

Few minutes passed until we had what we ordered on our table. Amara was excited to a have sip of her hot drink and me, well, I didn’t know where to begin with so I followed her moves. First, she sweeten it, then she picked a croissant, took a bite and finally a sip to her cappuccino. I did the same and found out that the drink was beyond delicious. Like a child who finds a secret door to an undiscovered fantasy world, my hunger for this new delicacy went far from what I could ever imagined and made me want to eat it all in one go. Amara saw my intentions of devouring everything at the speed of light so she placed her hand over my forearm and invited me to enjoy it a little more.

– Take it easy big guy – she smiled amused-. We don’t you to choke with the croissants ¿don’t we?

I smiled back at her being me who felt somewhat embarrassed this time. I finished my food slowly, enjoying each sip and bite. I cleaned up my mouth of the crumbs with a paper napkin just to keep myself inside the circle of politeness and sat back to stretch my legs. Amara stood up and excused herself to use the women’s room; I nodded with a smile and hold her purse. I was fidgeting with a paper napkin when I saw her finally getting out and making her way back to the table when a couple of men blocked her path. I raised my blue eyes just to meet hers and her upset look quietly asking for help.

– ¿What is a beautiful weirdo doing so late in a café? – One of the men addressed her in the most petulant way he could-. ¿Looking for a date, sweetheart?

– Or maybe she is just looking for someone to put one of her eyes in the same color… - the other man answered his partner a question he never made.

I didn’t wait much longer to stand up and step in, placing myself at one of the scumbag’s back. The one who was facing me raised his eyes until he could reach my line of sight, doing a notorious effort to hold it. My right hand landed heavily on the other man’s shoulder, once he stopped talking, I began clenching my fist slowly but firmly.

– That’s not the way to talk to a lady – I bent forward until he could feel my breath tingling in his ear-. Apologize to her and we can leave this here and now and forget what just happened.

The man facing me froze on the spot and the other one turned around with violent intent until he saw I was more than three inches above his line of view. The man, now behind his partner, blinked several times as if he was trying to find a way out of the oppressing situation I had put them under until he finally lifted both hands as a sing of surrender, he quietly apologized and stepped away leaving his partner on his own.

– So, - I squeezed his shoulder a little harder this time-. ¿What do you say?

– ¡Alright, alright! – He cried-. I apologize to the lady…

– ¿For what…? – I squeezed even harder piercing his clothes with pointy nails.

– ¡For calling her weirdo!  

I loosen my grip and let him go, clearing his way so he could rush and meet his coward friend outside the cafeteria. Amara was standing next to me, half puzzled half amused, but the look in her eyes was speaking for her in a language only I was able to understand.

– You really didn’t have to do that, Robert-

– I know I didn’t have to – I interrupted her-. I needed to.

Amara smiled shyly trying so hard not to show me that her cheeks went red but that made her look even cuter. I invited her to grab her things and leave. Outside was cold and it had stopped snowing, the last night of the coldest seasons of the year was coming to its end. We were standing outside the cafe entrance and I saw Amara wasn’t wearing any kind of scarf so I took mine off and wrapped it around her thin neck. She grabbed one of its ends and put it under her nose, smelling it for a couple of seconds.

– If you are looking for perfume, you won’t find one… - I hurried to speak so she wouldn’t feel disappointed.

– Actually, I'm not, but I like how it smells.

– ¿And how does it smells like? – I asked intrigued by her sharp sense of smell.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as if she was filling her lungs with a scent I couldn’t figure out what it was yet and, breathing out slowly, she said:

– It smells like wet dirt…  

To be continued...

#Penny's thoughts #pennywise #short story

[sassyandclassy94]

Secrets Lies and Blessings (A SwanFire Fanfic)

Chapter X

~One week later~ (Continued from last chapter)

      After what felt like an eternity Charming, Emma, Ava, and Robert arrived safely back home in the Enchanted Forest and Charming was greeted with an enormous embrace from Snow. “I missed you SO much!” she said as she threw her arms around her husband’s neck.

      “I missed you so much too!” he replied as he tightly embraced Snow, slightly lifting her off the ground as he did so but before he set her back on the ground he delivered a sweet but passionate kiss on her lips.

      “How was your trip?” Snow asked as Charming set her back on her feet.

      “Can I say that I’m glad it’s over?” he answered with a chuckle. Apparently the whole Charming family found Aurora and her family… exhausting.

      “Yes you can,” she then turned to her children. “Oh my goodness I’ve missed you three so much!!” she exclaimed as she embraced all three of the Charming children at once. “And oh my, Robert I think you’ve grown since you’ve been gone! I told you not to do that!” She gave him another hug as she mock scolded him. After they all had gotten their hugs, they made their way back into the castle.

      Later that evening after everyone had finished supper and had wound down Emma and her siblings readied themselves for bed. Emma decided she wanted to soak in her tub to wash off the dust and grime from their trip. While she soaked and bathed Eleanor sat and worked on her embroidery in a chair in a corner in the room; also listening to her mistress tell and vent to her about her trip.  She agreed that Princess Aurora seemed rather intrusive and very spoiled and if she had been completely honest, she was glad that she didn’t have to accompany Emma to that kingdom; she had dodged a catapult.

      After her bath Emma slipped into one of her more casual dresses; a purple loose-fitting yet figure-hugging dress with a belt that rested over her hips*.

      Eleanor looked at her suspiciously. “Emma…? What are you doing?” she laid her needlework on her lap.

      “It's been over a month since I saw him last, Eleanor!” There sounded to be a hint of desperation in her voice as she spoke.

      Eleanor shook her head disapprovingly. “You -” she forced down the urge to roll her eyes. She sighed before continuing. “Okay. Fine. You go out there, but what if he’s not there? Does he even know you’re back?” Why was she even wasting her breath? Emma was going to do what she wanted to do regardless of how many times Eleanor tried to talk her out of it.

      “Ugh, the whole kingdom knows we’re back so he too must know I’m back.” she rolled her eyes as she finished her reply.

      “Okay… but what about your parents? What if they hear you sneak out?” Even if it was pointless Eleanor would still try to persuade her young mistress to do the right thing.

      “Pfft!” Emma swatted the air. “Yeah right! They’re not gonna hear me sneak out, not tonight. TRUST me.” she made a look of disgust and shuddered at the thought of her parents… well, she wasn’t even going to go there. Emma then straightened her posture. “I’m going to go see him.” She added in a rather defiant tone and Eleanor uttered a silent sigh of defeat and frustration. Just like her father, Emma was stubborn; there was no point in trying to change her mind. “Fine.” Eleanor said briefly. “Just make sure you’re back before midnight.”

      A victorious smile (Eleanor would argue that it was smug instead) spread across Emma’s face. “I always am!” She then grabbed her cloak and was off; Eleanor only hoped that she would be safe and behave herself.

      “If he’s not there I’ll just turn back.” Emma quietly said to herself as she made her way to the pond they always sat near.  She knew he went there often on his own before they met when life got stressful - at least that was what he told her once - so she hoped he was there tonight. “This is terrible, but I hope he had a rough day so he’ll be there.” she said aloud to herself.

      She walked a little farther and then she saw him; sitting on the log they always sat at, intent on what was probably a drawing in progress, his lantern pulled close. He looked so cute sitting there, she thought to herself as a smile spread across her face. “Bae!” she exclaimed in a loud whisper as she quickened her pace.

      Baelfire quickly popped his head up at the sound of his name. “Emma?” he put his things to the side before standing up to greet her.

      Emma flung herself into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and tightly squeezed him as an even bigger smile flashed across her face. Baelfire returned her tight embrace, slightly lifting her off the ground as he did so, and then planted a sweet kiss on her lips. “I’ve missed you SO much!” her voice was muffled under their kiss. She kissed him back and as she kissed him she let her fingers migrate up to his head to play with his perfect, finger-length gorgeous brown tousled hair. Oh how she had missed him.

      “I missed you too,” Baelfire replied as they finally broke away before they sat down. “More than you know.” He added and Emma noticed there was sadness in his tone. He quickly snapped out of it. “Anyway, how was your trip? I didn’t know you would even come out tonight - I feel bad. You shouldn’t have walked here by yourself in the dark -”

      “Baelfire!!” Emma interrupted. “Stop! Its fine! I am MORE than capable of handling myself and you know it.” she shook her head before going on. Sometimes he was too much of a gentleman… if that even made sense. “And as far as the trip goes… it was terrible, just like I thought it would be.” She uttered a sigh. “She even served a roasted swan for supper on the first night.” she added with clenched teeth.

      Baelfire shot her a puzzled look. “Who eats swans?”

     “Apparently Princess Aurora does.” Emma answered with a mocking expression.

      “That seems a little… inappropriate, doesn’t it? Or insulting maybe. Isn’t the swan one of your favorite animals?”

      “Yes!” Emma answered hotly. “And they mate for life which means a poor swan is grieving out there somewhere because of her!” she huffed out another sigh. “And that’s not all she did. She practically asked me why I’m almost 17 and still unmarried.” She felt her eyes start to well and tried to hold back the tears.

      “She did?” he was beginning to understand why Emma dreaded this trip. “Did you tell her that that’s none of her business?”

      “No…” she answered slowly. “I didn’t really say anything and then she assumed that I just don’t want to get married.” she looked at Bae and then looked at the ground. “And that’s not true…” she added quietly.

      “If I had been there I would’ve told her to back off - who does she think she is trying to tell you how to live your life?” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she snuggled her side into his and smiled lightly.

      She looked up at Bae. “You’re  sweet.”

      “Thanks, I try to be,” he answered with a light chuckle and his response made Emma giggle; he always made her feel better. “However I am sorry your trip was so terrible. You should’ve been able to enjoy yourself.”

      Emma snuggled deeper into his side and shrugged. “Eh, whatchya gonna do? I feel better now though after seeing and talking to you again.” she looked over at the other side of Baelfire and pulled away to sit up. “What were you drawing?” she asked curiously as she stole a look at the pile of drawing supplies at his side.

      “Oh, uh…” he leaned over to pick up his drawing things. “A swan…”

      Emma anxiously grabbed the leather-bound sketchbook from his hand. “Aw! Let me see!” she demanded. She looked at the drawing. “Oh wow… this is - why didn’t you ever tell me you could draw so well?”

      Baelfire blushed slightly at her compliment. The way she was always gushing over his talents made him feel so good. “You uh, you never asked, and… I don’t know…”

      “Well you’re an amazing artist!” she then noticed how many pages he had used. “May I look at the others?” she eagerly asked.

      “By all means,” he answered. “Go ahead!”

      Emma slowly flipped through the pages in his sketchbook, carefully studying and admiring the pictures on the pages; a tree, a lamb nestled in hay, a cottage (probably his), and what looked to be the Charming castle, among other things. Emma smiled at the castle. “You’re so good…” she said again; she was genuinely enthralled. “How did you ever learn to draw like this?” she continued to look at and admire his sketches.

      Baelfire shrugged. “My mother actually.”

      Emma broke her eyes away from his sketchbook to look at him. “She taught you?”

      “Hardly. I just inherited the gift from her - or so I’ve been told by Papa anyway. She died when I was three.”

      “Oh I’m - I’m so sorry,” she looked at him sympathetically and Baelfire shrugged casually.

      “Don’t be. I was really young and I don’t even remember her.”

      Well that’s sad, Emma thought to herself. She swallowed before asking. “How um, how did it happen?”

      Baelfire thought for a moment. “You know I… I don’t really know. Papa never told me and I’ve never asked. I just know pirates were involved.” There was spite in the way he had said the word ‘pirates’.

      “Of course pirates were involved,” she shook her head in disgust. “Murdering scum. Daddy says to never trust or turn your back to one.” she looked back down at the drawing before looking back at Baelfire.

      “And obviously he’s right.” he answered.

       “You should still ask him sometime though. It’s only fair, and, well… if I were you, I’d want to know. Ya know, what really happened and everything. As some sort of closure.” she smiled before directing her attention back to the sketchbook.

      He smiled lightly as he looked at Emma. “Maybe…” he answered as he watched her as she continued to look through his sketchbook.

      “I know I’ve probably said it too many times already  but I can’t help it… these are SO good!” She went back to his drawing of the swan and smiled. “This one is my favorite though. You captured the grace and beauty of it so well…” she looked at Bae and smiled.

      Baelfire looked down at the drawing and then at Emma. “You know what? Why don’t you keep it?”

      “What?” she asked, her eyes wide in a form of disbelief.

      “The swan!” he clarified. “It’s your favorite animal and I want you to have it - maybe it’ll make up for your horrible trip.” he tore the page from the sketchbook and handed it to Emma.

      “Are you sure?” she asked. “But you must’ve worked so long and hard on it -”

      “It’s okay!” he interrupted with a smile and an almost-laugh. “I WANT you to have it, Em!! Besides, I draw SO many things that I won’t even notice this one missing in about five minutes. And you love swans so you’re going to appreciate it more than anyone else would.”

      Emma was so touched. She took the drawing from his hand and then flung her arms around his neck and placed a grateful and affectionate kiss on his cheek. “Thank you SO much, Bae! I LOVE it!!” she tightened her grip around his neck. “And I love YOU…”

      “I love you too.” he replied as he returned her embrace. He then pulled away just enough so that he could kiss her lips; as he did so, he subconsciously let his hands run through Emma’s hair which caused her to shudder slightly. She liked it, and found herself wanting to get closer to him but she didn’t. Instead she just returned his kiss, probably a little too enthusiastically being that Baelfire quickly and suddenly pulled away, looking a little embarrassed.

      Emma was confused. “You...okay?” she asked. He didn’t usually pull away from her like that. This is weird.

      “Yeah,” he answered; he looked like he was trying to regain his composure or something, and even though it was dark she could tell that his cheeks were pink. He cleared his throat before continuing. “That was just… that was some kiss…” he smiled nervously and Emma giggled.

      “Well, I … I am the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming.” she blushed a little as she added, “I did learn from the best and it's... probably in my blood.” she grinned and shrugged casually and Bae smiled at her response.

      It was near 11:30 when Emma finally decided it was time for her to head back home and as always, Baelfire walked her to where he always did, just outside the forest. This time though, they were a little hesitant to part ways; it was getting harder and harder for them to leave each other. But they did and as per usual he watched to make sure she made it safely through the castle gates. She did and then that was his cue to head home himself. When she made it back to her room she noticed that her waiting lady was still in her room. She sighed as she carefully placed Baelfire’s drawing on her desk. “What do you do? Just perch yourself on my bed until I get back?” she asked annoyedly. She noticed Eleanor shooting her an unamused look. “What?” she threw up her arms. “Stop looking at me like that.”

      Eleanor placed her hands on her hips. “Cutting it rather close, aren’t you?” she pointedly asked.

      “Ugh! Relax! Its before midnight!” she pointed out in a huff.

      “Barely.”

      Emma rolled her eyes. “It counts. Anyway, look what he gave to me!” she excitedly grabbed her drawing from the desk and held it up in front of Eleanor. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

      Eleanor studied the drawing. “Wow. That IS good.” She had to admit the boy had talent.

      Emma smiled excitedly. “Isn’t it?! I had no idea he could draw!” she looked down at the swan on the paper. “He let me look through his sketchbook…” she held the drawing to her chest and turned her head to gaze out her window. “I… I really do love him…” she looked back at Eleanor, who was studying her carefully. “I don’t think he really wanted me to leave tonight,” she uttered a sad-sounding sigh. “I didn’t want to leave him either…”

      “Emma…?” She looked Emma in the eyes and asked in a tone serious as death. “Are - are you and Baelfire having - well, developing, desires?”

      Emma’s head shot up. “What?? No of… of course not.” she answered quickly and feeling a little embarrassed. She was actually lying… something was definitely sparking between the two of them. When he had kissed and hugged her earlier she didn’t really want him to stop. In fact, she… she quickly forced the thought from her mind; it was wrong for a young unmarried woman such as herself to even be thinking such thoughts anyway. She looked at Eleanor and hoped she believed her answer. She didn’t. Unfortunately she saw right through her cover-up; she was SO annoying in that way.

      “Emma! You NEED to tell your parents about the two of you… how you feel and everything before you two do something you regret!”

      “I can’t tell them!” she exclaimed.

      “Oh? And why not?” she placed her hands on her hips.

      There was a sudden look of panic in Emma’s green eyes. “Because if I do, I’m going to have to explain how we met! I was sneaking out, remember? They’re not going to like that! And then what if they get all upset because of who he’s related to? What if they say no and say we can’t ever see each other again because of it? I love him, Eleanor!! And he loves me! We - we understand each other and he’s…” she swallowed before going on. “He’s the man I want to marry.” Saying that out loud sounded weird and surreal but she meant it; she wanted to marry him, spend the rest of her life with him, to have a family with him. She was sure now. She looked at Eleanor again and saw that she was staring at her, her eyes wide. Understandable, Emma thought. She couldn’t believe she said all that either.

      “Well if you want to marry him then you definitely should tell your parents.”

      Emma was getting real tired of her nagging. “I’ll tell them when I tell them, okay?” she was starting to get really agitated.

      “And that will be when?”

      Emma let out an exasperated sigh. “Would you just put this topic to sleep please?” She walked over to her desk where she laid her swan drawing down. “Now, instead of bossing me around do you think you could actually do your job and help me out of this dress?”

      Eleanor made her way over to Emma and began helping her get into her nightclothes. As she helped her she thought about what Emma had said. She hesitated before she spoke: “About what you said… can- can you really see yourself with him?”

      “Yes,”

      “For the rest of your life…?”

      “Yes. We both really understand each other and I can be myself around him. I’m not ‘Princess Emma’ around him; he sees me for who I am, just Emma… a normal girl. And he makes me smile and laugh, and feel kinda… kinda confident,” she straightened her posture. “I just, I don’t know… he makes me feel so happy. We have a very special connection.”

      Eleanor was silent as she pondered what Emma had just told her. He did seem to make her happy. She just wished that Emma saw the importance of telling her parents and the inevitable danger of not telling them. She shook her head and inhaled silently as she tied the ties at the back of Emma’s nightgown. “That was really nice of him to give you that drawing.” she said as she quickly patted her on her shoulder, signaling to Emma that she was done and free to go.

      Emma turned to head to her bed. “Yeah it was,” she yawned as she crawled into bed and under her covers. “He’s just so sweet. I know it wasn’t really a big deal but it was to me…”

      “No you’re right, it was really sweet of him to do that. And it is really, really good. He seems like a really sweet boy.” she started to make her way out of Emma’s room. “Just… if you’re not going to tell your parents just please be careful, okay?”

      Emma rolled her eyes; there she went again, being her usual bossy overprotective self and going all mother-hen on her - so annoying. “I will, don’t worry.” she silently sighed in annoyance before she blew out her lantern.

      “You need anything before I leave?”

      “Um, nope. I’m good,” she yawned again as she snuggled into her pillow and pulled her blankets up to her chin. “Goodnight, Eleanor.”

      “Goodnight.” She replied as she went out of her room and shut her door.

      After her waiting lady left her room she looked out in the direction of her window and thought of Baelfire and what had been going through her mind while she was with him. Her thoughts and feelings left her feeling both excited and scared; excited that she was now in love with a special young man but scared because she knew she would have to tell her parents about him. But they’re just going to get upset  and tell us that we can’t see each other anymore… As she lay there trying to fall asleep she thought about all the potential disasters that could happen if she told her parents, moreso her father, about them.

********

      It had been a little over a week before Emma and Baelfire were able to see each other again; those darn royal duties didn’t leave her much freetime, much to her annoyance and frustration. After how the last few days had gone, she was glad to finally be able to sneak out and forget who she was for a bit. As glad as she was to get out though, what she was really most excited about was seeing Baelfire again. It had felt like so much longer than only a week.

      She found him where she usually did, sitting on a fallen log near the pond, leaning over what was more than likely his sketchbook, working on another drawing. She then made a sound and his head popped up and when he saw that it was Emma, he quickly stood up to greet her.

      She ran up to wrap her arms around his neck. “I missed you!” she said before leaving a kiss on his lips.

      He returned her kiss. “I’ve missed you too but why don’t you ever send word that you’re coming?” he gently brushed a strand of her hair away from her face.

      “Why should I?” she backed away to place her hands on her hips.

      “Why? Because I don’t like you walking out here by yourself at night.” It was true; he’d feel incredibly terrible and greatly responsible if something were ever to happen to the princess while on her way to see him.

      A fierce gleam suddenly appeared in her eye as she stared at Bae. “Baelfire…” she started cooly. “I appreciate your chivalry, I really do. In fact, I admire that in a man but…” she straightened her posture before continuing. “I was trained in both the sword and in defense strategies by the finest in the realm, my father, or the king, as you know him.” she proudly cocked her head. “So, please, for the one-hundredth time, believe you me when I say that I KNOW how to handle myself.”

      “Right,” he answered as he leaned in to kiss her again.

      She shoved him away, “And another thing,” she placed her fists on her hips. “I can’t send you any word, not after that stink you put up about me offering to write to you while I was away.”

      “I wouldn’t say I ‘put up a stink’...” he reached for Emma’s wrists, gently pulled them away from her hips, then held them for a moment.

      “Oh?” She allowed him to hold onto her wrists; truth be told, she was rather enjoying the sensation of his large work-worn hands gently gripping her soft and dainty wrists. “Then what would you have called it then?”

      “I don’t know but definitely not that…” still holding her wrists, he lifted them and held her arms out to the side, then he let them go and placed his hands gently on her hips and attempted to pull her back in to him. Emma shook her head in mock annoyance, smiled, and allowed him to pull her in close. She raised her arms and rested them on his shoulder, crossing her wrists behind his head; she then sweetly kissed him and suddenly noticed that both their fronts were touching. She liked how it felt. It felt… well, she didn’t really know how to explain how this felt but what she did know that it was definitely a GOOD feeling; being this close to him made her feel warm, whole, made her feel safe, and like she could take on the entire world if she had to; it also made her feel, well… something else… something she wasn’t very familiar with. She didn’t really know how to explain that either other than, she wanted to get closer. Alot closer, and that thought slightly scared her. She wondered if Bae was feeling the same thing… she quickly pushed the improper thoughts out of her mind and pulled away from Baelfire’s embrace, faintly blushing as she did so.

      “Anyway…” she began as she cleared her throat and sat down. “How was your week?”

       Baelfire rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Same old same old,” he looked down at his boots then back up at Emma. “Sheep duties, roof-thatching,  making supper every other night…” he paused a moment before continuing. “Arguments with Papa. you know, all that good stuff.” He forced a smile and Emma couldn’t help but giggle. Bae shook his head and lightly laughed too; there was something about her laugh/giggle that made him want to laugh; it was absolutely adorable and totally contagious; he shrugged with a smile before adding, “A day in the life of a peasant boy.”

      Emma’s giggles erupted into full-fledged laughter. He didn’t know why she had found his answer and remarks so humorous but for some reason she did and that was okay; it made her happy and seeing Emma happy made him happy. However, he still wasn’t understanding how she found it THAT funny.  “Did I, uh… miss something?” there was confusion on his face and Emma continued to laugh.

      Emma shook her head in response as she tried to regain herself.  “No,” she tried to catch her breath. “You just… you make me happy…” she finally stopped laughing and was now looking at him with a smile on her face, an amorous sparkle lighting up her what he thought to be perfectly spaced green eyes. Goodness how stunning she is, he thought to himself.  He cleared his throat before beginning: “Can I… ask you a question?” he asked nervously.

      At his question Emma’s expression became serious. “Yeah…” she answered. “What is it?” she noticed that he was suddenly acting a bit nervous. What could he be wanting to ask? She wondered.

      He lowered his head and swallowed nervously before he continued: “Have you - have you ever thought about…” he trailed off again and Emma could see that the poor boy was nervous.

      “Thought about what?” she asked as she gently placed her hand on top of his as a gesture of encouragement.

      Her gesture seemed to give him the confidence he needed to go on; he sighed as he attempted to muster up his courage. “Well,” he paused again and Emma didn’t know how much more suspense she could take. JUST COME OUT WITH ALREADY, BAE! She anxiously thought to herself; she was beginning to wonder if he was going to spill something she didn’t want to hear… and it was seriously scaring her. She squeezed his hand and begged with her eyes for him to go on. “Well?” She vocally urged him to go on this time.

      He decided to just say it and hope for the best. “M-marriage,” he stammered. “Have you ever thought about marriage?” he was relieved he finally asked but as he studied Emma’s expression his feeling of relief quickly turned to anxiety; he desperately hoped he didn’t just ruin what they had. He looked down at his lap and then cast Emma a nervous sideways glance.

      Emma was taken aback. Did he, in his own shy little way, just propose to her? Truth was, she kinda wished he did… she had been thinking of marriage rather often as of late - more specifically, a marriage with him. But it also scared her; marriage is a lifelong commitment - but she did love him- more than anything - and she could genuinely see herself with him for the rest of her life, she was positive now, but if they were extremely serious now she’d have to tell her parents… and that is what scared her the most. She inhaled slowly: “Marriage?” she repeated. ‘As in… you and me?” she gestured to him and herself with her finger.

      Baelfire’s throat went dry and he silently cursed himself. So she doesn’t feel the same way I do, he sadly thought to himself; what did he expect anyway? She was a princess for goodness’ sake, the heir to the throne nonetheless, and he was nothing but a lowly peasant boy with absolutely nothing to offer her, of course she didn’t want to pursue marriage. He sighed before finally answering, “Well… yeah…” he tried to hide the sadness and disappointment in his voice as he answered Emma.

      Emma noticed the look of sadness in his eyes and immediately felt terrible for letting him think she thought marriage was a bad idea. “Yes!” She quickly blurted out. “In fact, I have been thinking about marriage - alot, actually,” she paused for a moment and Baelfire’s expression changed to a mixture of hope, relief, and excitement. She continued: “At night before I fall asleep, I imagine what our lives would be like together…” she trailed off and scooched closer so that her side was snuggled into his. “I take it you have too then?”

      “Yes. I love you, Em,” he answered as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “Alot and I do want to spend the rest of my life with you; you make me feel something that I’ve never felt about anyone else before. You… you make me feel, whole. Like I have an actual purpose…” he awkwardly looked down at his lap again and trailed off. Emma was greatly touched by his words. She leaned a little forward and placed her hand on his cheek, caressing his face, she lightly kissed his lips, their lips clinging to one another’s for a moment before they broke away. She smiled and snuggled into him again, “And you make me feel the same way,” she added. “With you I can be myself and… and you make me feel so… confident. Like I could…” she paused and giggled softly before continuing. “Don’t laugh but being around - being with you, makes me feel like I can take on… the world or something.” Emma could feel Baelfire smiling at what she had just said and she shook her head as she then felt him plant another kiss on her temple, causing her to utter a blissful sigh. She snuggled deeper into his side and rested her cheek against his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of being close to him. She then started to wonder… No! She quickly forced away the improper thought and sat up so that she wasn’t resting against him anymore. Another thought suddenly struck her. “Since we’re talking about and seriously considering marriage now,” she started. “And because I’m curious…” she blushed a little before she continued. “How many children do you, you know… imagine us having?”

      Baelfire stared at her for a moment; he had never really thought about that before. He shrugged, “I - I really don’t know...I guess however many you want to have,” he answered with a shy smile. “So… how many do you plan on having?”

      Emma thought for a moment. “Hmm…” she brought her finger to her lip as she thought. “I guess no less than three and no more than four… does that sound like a reasonable number to you?” she asked with a hopeful and curious smile but then switched to a serious expression. “But how will this work?”

      Baelfire thought for a moment; she had a point… if she had been just a regular girl he would just offer up the possibility of elopement. But alas, Emma was not a regular girl; she was a princess, the heir to the throne nonetheless. There were countless reasons as to why he couldn’t just suggest that; the number one reason being that, in order to run off and get married, she’d have to leave her family and he didn’t want that for her. But the thought was incredibly tempting… He was silent as he thought before Emma broke the silence:

      “We could run off!” she blurted out excitedly as she placed her hand on his arm. “To another kingdom where we won’t be recognized; we can live in a cottage in the countryside and raise our children there! No crowns, no high expectations, no familial reputations. Just you and me…” she leaned closer toward him and looked in his eyes. “We can start whole new lives….”

      The whole idea sounded incredible and exciting… but then reality sunk in. “I wish we could,” he responded. “But what about your parents and your siblings?”

      Emma shrugged. “I mean, they’d miss me at first but they’d get over it. And Ava would be happy because then she’d be the new heir. Although…” she trailed off for a moment and sighed as she looked back down at her lap. “I’d miss exercising my sword skills with Daddy…” she also thought about the children factor; someday she and Baelfire would have babies together and it would break her mother’s heart if she wasn’t ever able to meet her own grandchildren or be in their lives. Suddenly, the idea that excited Emma just moments ago was now beginning to break her heart. She couldn’t just run off; if she did her parents would be utterly crushed. She sighed and looked back up at Baelfire. “They’d be heartbroken…” she slowly admitted before she lowered her head and rested her temple on his shoulder. “I guess we can’t run off then, can we?”

      “I really wish we could though…” he answered.

“I know. We would never have to sneak out to see each other and be afraid of our parents finding out or what they’d say. But I guess for now we’ll just continue to do what we’re doing.” she sighed and thought to herself: If only I weren’t a princess.

Look who FINALLY updated after FIVE freaking months!!! I finally overcame my writer’s block!!! Thank you so much for reading!!!

Next chapter

#SwanFire #Princess Emma #Baelfire #Secrets Lies and Blessings a SwanFire FanFic #Once Upon a Time

[writeforself]

Entrance to the Underworld [2/2]

Brasidas x Reader

Warning: bits of gore

Feverish, was the first sensation he recalled when he woke up from the long slumber, as he would describe it. Then a pain, spreading the fever and the agony from his thigh throughout his body. Light began to come into his vision, welcoming him back to the world of living. It was blinding and vague. He took some time to adjust his vision to the warm daylight casting onto him through the window. Beside the warmth of the daylight, he noticed something else, gently laying on his wrist, providing a sense of comfort after his fever nightmare. 

You weren’t awake when he woke up; instead, you sat beside him, dozing in this cool afternoon. It had been awhile since your last shut eye. Since the battle of Pylos, Hypnos had been a stranger to you, while Oizys had made acquaintance with you. Worries had kept you up at night and day; so you kept yourself busy, by tending Brasidas all day long, and waited for him to wake up from his long slumber, so that you could hear his voice again.

Finally Hypnos paid you a visit, when the tranquility of Brasidas calm heartbeats gave you the solace you’d been seeking. You fell asleep while sitting.

“[Y/N]?”

He whispered, trying to get your attention. As he discovered that you were actually asleep, a smile spread over his face. He laid his head back down with a soft chuckle, for the presence of you, and for the agony on his thigh.

After some time, when the sunlight reached the wall behind you, you were wakened by the orange light. You blinked slowly to take in the light creeping into your vision, and felt a strong grip from your wrist. His hand was steady, firm, full of assurance. The burden that you had been bearing seemed to be lifted just by watching his peaceful expression. He looked different from when you saw him before you fell asleep. Carefully, you laid your head on his chest to feel the restful rhythm of his breath, rocking you into quietude like a ship floating on a calm sea.

You closed your eyes, unaware of the secret gaze, and the hand creeping behind you.

“[Y/N]!”

Startled by the sudden sound and unexpected embrace, you gasped in surprise and fell completely onto him. When you hear the moans concealed beneath his laughter, you realized you fell on top of his wounds.

“I guess for a stubborn Spartan, it is hard for Hades to meet you.” You said playfully, and gently pat on his thigh. “It is persistence, not stubbornness.” He replied, with a wide smile on his face. “Oh? Persist with what exactly?” “Getting back to you of course, what else do you think?”

He opened his arms to welcome to lay down with him. You carefully placed yourself in a position that would make him feel comfortable. Laying down in his embrace, you took a deep breath to inhale his scent and the lasting smell of the warm dust dancing in the faint light of the sunset.

“You and your un-Spartan-like words.” You said with a chuckle. Peeking his expression with the corner of your eye. Every muscles of yours loosen at the sight of his smile. “I could be a poet for you.” “Shut up.”

You leaned onto him for a kiss. The warmth of his surrounded you as Helios went to bed, and Nyx started covering the sky with her grace.

***

“Lingers, out of Apollos’ reach.”

He ventures further, with the eerie voices of the oracle still dwells inside his head, and the lurid prayers continues to resound throughout the space. Treading lightly with cautious, he enters another chamber under the cover of the shadow. It was a space flooded with water. The metallic scent permeates the whole space, as well as the burning scent of flesh, and the vile odour of decay.

Three shadows stretch across the chamber from the dim torches. They gather in a circle and praise for the mightiness of Ares. They look like phantoms with the white paint on their skin, and dingy chlamys glowing in the light.

He gathers some daggers from the dead, and moves to another shadow, waiting to strike.

The fanatics don’t have to wait long to see a dagger piercing through one of their throats. Blood comes streaming down the victim’s neck, through the dark chlamys, and eventually fell into the embrace of the earth. The shocking gasps of the survivors echo in the chamber along with the thump of the lifeless body and the sound of the dagger finding its way through the muscles and bones.

They have been alerted; yet the direction of the attack remains a mystery to them. Before they could launch a counterattack, another one falls into the red water, joining the deads in the feast held by Hades.

“You can’t hide forever!”

The last fanatic yells furiously, trying to shroud her fear with the loudness.

Out of the shadow, he walks into the sight of the firelight. He stares right into her eyes, like a predator on its prey, without hesitation, posing himself into a fighting position. His eyes glare with incitement, fueling the anger inside the last fanatic.

She runs toward him, screaming, with a bloody spear held high up in the air, aiming for his head. Yet insanity is no match for experience. He swiftly dodges her attack, and breaks her posture effortlessly with a simple kick. Finally he plunges a knife deep into her chest. The weight of the soulless body fell onto his arm; fresh blood washes across his skin.

When the killing is over, he looks around and finds countless corpse littered the space. It is the end of the way, he stares at the red water and contemplates on the thought of jumping into it. If he has to dive through the deads to reach the gate of the dead, he would do it. Yet a peculiar stream of air brushes across his shoulder as he stands beside the dark red pond.

Behind him is a wobbling torch, the flame on the tip of it sways in a most befuddled way.

He walks closer and notices wind blowing into this space from the shadow beside the stone pillar. Then he finds a narrow crack, which is just the size for him to carefully squeeze through. Nevertheless there is no light on the other side of the crack, only a vast suffocating darkness waiting ahead.

The empty voice of the elder man rings again inside his head.

“Good luck Brasidas of Sparta.”

***

“I am sorry, I’ve tried everything I know.”

Hippocrates sat down with frustration, letting out a deep sigh. He stares helplessly at the motionless figure lying in front of him. He had traveled all the way from Athens when he heard the tragic news from Barnabas. Although he had became weary because of the travel, he had been working through day and night since the day the ship landed. Yet after all the effort, after pouring all the knowledge, he felt utterly defeated. It’s hard for a doctor to find all his effort went into vain, it’s even harder to express this frustration to the loved ones.

He lowered his gaze to avoid Kassandra’s and Barsidas’. The anxious sound of Barnabas pacing around the room is the only noise breaking the uneasy silence.

“Maybe we should go ask the oracle?” Among the frowning faces, Barnabas was the first to speak. He walked toward the three and continued. “Maybe the guidance of gods can help her.”

Yet the three remain silent, exchanging gaze.

As the last desperate attempt, they arrived at the temple of Apollo to seek the guidance of Pythia. Kassandra had vouched for her authenticity. She didn’t explained much, only mentioned that she had a sincere conversation with her, which “ended up pretty well”.

The moment they went into the temple, Brasidas could sense the uncanny atmosphere lurking in the dim space. He walked slightly behind Kassandra and observed the environment. Comparing to the lively ambiance outside, inside, it was quiet, the only sound he caught are the footsteps echoing in this immense structure, and the mumbled whispers of Pythia.

“You again.” Pythia raised her head to meet their eyes. “Child from the mountain.” “I come for my friend here. He wishes to seek Apollo’s guidance.”

Kassandra lowered her head as Brasidas walked to the front. Presenting the red string to Pythia, hoping it would apply some assistance for the oracle.

“I come to seek Apollo’s guidance Pythia. My lady was caught with the strangest illness.”

Pythia came closer to the red string like a snake eyeing its prey. She moves in a eerie manner which struck agitation into his heart. But he stood still, watching her every movements.

She then spoke with a gasp. “Darkness.”

She fell back onto the statue of Apollo, clenching onto the marble, speaking with short breaths.

“Lingers, out of Apollos’ reach. Seek what you need in the world beneath.”

She paused, walked to the darker corner behind the statue, and took out the most obscure object Brasidas had ever seen. It was a golden globe covered in dust. Yet it gleamed with a chilling radiance. She stood in front Brasidas, presenting him the artefact with a faraway look.

“Down the cave, deep into water, dive through darkness. Take this, child, be the lead. Lead her out of Hades reach. She returns once complete.”

“What returns?” He couldn’t help but ask. Accepting the strange artefact in his hands, mesmerized by its glow. “Pneuma.” Pythia whispers into his ears, sending chills down to his spine. “Breath of life.”

They left the temple bewildered. Barnabas welcomed them with his usual energy. He was eager to know the words of the oracle. Had he not been stopped by Hippocrates, he would have walked toward every pilgrim who left the temple. But he didn’t, and it was finally a chance to hear the words of the oracle from the mouths of others. He was tempted.

“So? How did it go?” He walked beside Kassandra with his eyes glowing in some sort of excitement. “A lot of riddles as usual.” She replied with a sigh, observing Brasidas face covered with confusion. “I bet it’s wise.” He said, and looked at the temple with admiration. “She mentioned Hades.” Kassandra continued, as if she was talking to herself. “That’s not good.” Barnabas joined back in. “But she said there’s hope.” “Great! What should we do then?”

“Pneuma.” Brasidas whispered. After tying the red string on his wrist, he sat on the stairs, scrutinizing the artefact in his hand. “Pneuma?” Hippocrates finally spoke. “I have heard about that.”

“What’s that?” Kassandra asked. “It’s a concept. Like the ‘life’ inside our bodies.” Hippocrates tried to explain it in the simplest way he could think of. The reaction was subtle, which didn’t give him the relief he was looking for.

“Pythia said ‘the breath of life’...” He paused and contemplated on the words of Pythia, ” And lead her out... I think I am meant to bring her back with this.” Brasidas replied with the artefact in his hand, presenting it to his companies. It had lost its glow, yet the lure of it still caught their eyes.

“Ah! Like Orpheus!” Barnabas exclaimed and clapped his hands. “Orpheus?” Kassandra questioned, unfamiliar with the story. “It’s a love story. Orpheus met the nymph Eurydice…”

As Barnabas was telling the story, Brasidas thought of his next steps, and recalled every bits of memories involving you. He remembered the feeble arms of yours, hanging by the edge of the bed. The paleness of your skin and the coldness of your body saddened him. He remembered the night he woke up beside you. Although suffering with pain, the sight of your eased his agony. He remembered the soft laugh and kisses. Lying down with you beneath the cloak of Nyx, and bathed under the elegance of Selene. The strange myths your shared with each other, and the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, by the gentle firelight.

If someone like Orpheus was equipped with such courage, so was him. And he would not fail, not like Orpheus. He would bring you back, back to the realm of Apollo.

After all he is pretty persistent.

***

End of the road.

He pushes through the darkness with the artefact glowing faintly in his hand, till he finally reaches another dead end. The air is still, and the artefact shines on and off with the mysterious glow.

It is no longer cold, for a place buried so deep beneath the surface of the earth, he finds it strange. There is a peculiar stream of warm air shifting around him.

Serenity, he feels it rises inside his chest, but cannot understand the reason. Looking around he tries to find something in this darkness, but there are only piles of rocks, stacking strangely along the wall.

Then he hears something. A familiar voice, a voice he has been craving for days.

“Brasidas--”

Like a wind brushes across his ears, the whisper. Yet it is vague and distant, like a momentary reverie, fades so quickly that it almost goes past his ears. Or maybe, it is a daydream, formed by his thoughts of you, calling its despair at the end of the road.

“Brasidas--”

“[Y/N]?”

Calling your name, his voice trembling, but he holds himself together. His posture, strong, holding his head high, he stares into the darkness.

“I’ll bring you home.”

His voice a lot calmer this time. Then the strangest sensation of his life occurs - it starts from his hand, which is holding the artefact; a stream of warm air creeping up along his arm, gradually covering his body; before he realizes it, he is surrounded by the soothing aura, like being held in a cradle, like falling into your embrace, the safest feeling in the world.

Then he gathers up himself. He starts walking, back to the world of the livings.

When he reaches the ground, he rides straight back.

He feels empty, but it is more like a relief. Whatever the artefact is, it gives him faith. As he climbs out of the cave, the strange aura suddenly disappears. The warm breeze of the livings’ world pushes him out of the cave. The exhaustion disappears when he hears again the sound of fields of wheats singing in the wind, and the laughter of farmers resonating with each others in the valley. Sunlights wash across his skin. He jumps onto his horse, every bits of its action fill him with live. Then along with the wind, he rides back to his destination.

“How is she?”

He nearly storms into the tent on his horse. Dismounting by the entrance, he rushes inside.

“She has gotten better.” Hippocrates is the first to reply, yet his sounds reserved. “But she hasn’t woken up yet.”

They back away to make a path for Brasidas. Kassandra is kneeling beside the bed, her hand clenching onto yours, like she is trying to deliver her body warmth to you.

Brasidas leans closer to your face, sitting at the edge of the bed. He puts the dagger onto the table beside, untie the red string on his wrist, and puts it back on you. Your face glows under the torchlight with a healthy pink. He holds onto your hand, and feeling that calm and steady pulse of yours, which used to comfort him through all the bloody nights.

Then for the first time in days, your head moves, even just for a few inches. Kassandra let out a silent exclaim, with the mouth curving upwards. 

“Brasidas?”

When your eyes finally opens, his name is the first thing that comes out of your mouth. He clenches onto your hands, holding them on his chest, close to his heart.

“Yes my love?” “Why are you covered in blood?”

Brasidas has forgotten the blood that was left from the last fanatic, when he plunged the dagger into her chest. But your reaction brings joy into his heart, he starts laughing, which leaves a baffled expression on your face. Without your notice, the other three have retreated to the outside.

“You just woke up from a long sleep, and all you care is how I am doing?” He laughs, wiping the tears hanging on the corner of his eyes. “How long was I asleep?” You look around and find only Brasidas is here with you. “Not that long.” He replies with a chuckle.

As he alters his position, he notices that you are peeking that old wound on his thigh. He runs his fingers through your hairs, and lays a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I had the strangest dream.” You whisper to him with a chuckle, and lay your head onto his shoulder. “I dreamed of you.” “Oh? What kind.”

“I was trapped in the darkness.” You speaks while playing with the red string on your wrist, gently laying your hands onto his glowing armour. “And you lead me into the light.”

#brasidas #brasidas x reader #ac oddysey #assassin's creed #assassin's creed odyssey #assassin's creed imagine

[blankdblank]

Chap Stick Pt 2

Warning - Get’s a bit dark for the reader between fluff. Depressing back story including being sold as a slave. Mentioned abuse, attack on OC.

Tags –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @evyiione, @sweetlytenacious25, @abiwim, @babybarrie, @curvestrology

…

Shifting your legs along the blankets, you gave a quick smile to the messenger that walked in eyeing the bandage wrapping your right leg peeking out from under your burnt orange gifted dress matching the one over your left arm and chest under the dress. Sitting up, you propped your arms on your bent knees while the King sat up flipping through the pages, he stole a glance at you while the messenger left bowing his head at you. Stealing another peck on your cheek he smiled at you saying, “I have to see to this.”

You nodded and turned forward again resting your chin on your knees causing him to pause and sigh, softly gripping the chain at the end hooked into the wall with a muttered phrase releasing it drawing your eyes over to him offering his hand, “It’s a short walk to the meeting room. We’ll be in the one in the eastern garden so there will be plenty to keep you occupied through it if you get bored.” Helping you up to your feet his smile grew as his hand gently brushed along your cheek leaving another gentle kiss on your forehead. With a gentle turn after lowering his hands you claimed your first step feeling his hand easing across your lower back careful to avoid your hidden bandages through his supporting you on the walk to the meeting room, choosing to remain in his robe and sleeping pants.

Somewhere between his room and the meeting room the King had hooked the other end of the chain around his free wrist. Walking in the room, bearing it proudly as if it were some symbol of his willingness to protect you, only stirring a string of nightmares you knew you were going to have, ones you had hoped to never have again since the last time over a century ago. With another gentle smile and a peck on the cheek the King helped you into your chair before claiming his beside you. Laying the notes out before him stealing another glance at you before turning his eyes to focus on the meeting. 

Halfway between listening and admiring the view Thranduil took advantage of a spare moment of silence to mentally promise a stroll through the gardens if you were up for it after. Following the monotonous tones flowing from the Elves around him Thranduil did his best to hide his envious bubbling anger at the nearly enamored gaze the view had drawn from you, one he’d only caught a glimpse of since you had arrived.

Patiently he sat through it alongside you, without a single word past his promise or touch past his stolen brushing along your fingers as he did. Surely you felt the same for him, he could see the affection in your gazes and yet something hindered you. But hopefully you would ease into his arms, as soon as this chain nonsense was done away with, surely you could see the reasoning behind it. He couldn’t risk your safety or your health, not again, not when he’d nearly lost you through those rough weeks of healing. 

Once it finally ended Thranduil smiled softly at the Council members while they filed out making sure to bow their heads to you as well. Still seated Thranduil gave you another smile before rising and offering his hand to show you to the gardens. Leading you through it as a row of guards curiously stole gazes at you walking beside the King in his deliberately slow pace to ease any pain you might have.

Stealing an upward glance Thranduil softly smiled at you while watched the moonlight causing your skin and eyes to glow brightly as he asked, “Did you enjoy Rivendell?”

Shifting your eyes they met his softened gaze, “It was, beautiful. Everything I’d heard about it being. More water falls than I thought.”

He chuckled softly, “So between our Kingdoms, which would you choose?”

Drawing in a breath you looked forward again through your thinking before you answered, “For a steady flow of guests I would choose Rivendell, although I’m not sure how often the Dwarves and Men from Dale and Esgaroth would visit here. For the location I would choose here, I think I prefer the trees to being surrounded by water in an open crevice. And lastly would be Lothlorien, where I’d only go to meet Lord Celeborn, who I really need to apologize to, I think I broke his Wife. But I don’t think I’d stay for very long that’s an awful lot of stairs to climb just to get anywhere, and I have a terrible habit of falling.”

Meeting his eyes again you caught his growing smile as he held in his chuckles responding, “All very valid reasons. As for Lord Celeborn he and Lord Elrond should be here in the morning as well, both wished to speak with you now that you’re doing better. In Galadriel’s case her Ring broke her long ago, none of that blame is placed on you, she will heal in time when she reaches the West.”

“She’s sailing?”

“Lord Celeborn had her chained and escorted to the Grey Havens to be set out for her attacking you. Those mental wounds were too deep from him to heal alone, now only the Valar can tend to them.” Catching your still unsure gaze his hand curled around yours raising your knuckles to his lips to gently kiss and lower again to ease his fingers through yours. “Again, none of your doing.”

“Seems to be a pattern growing with chaining women among Elves.” Even without looking you could feel his growing smirk at your mumbled comment.

Looking out over the pond reflecting the moonlight something glimmering near the bottom caught your eye, only to draw Thranduil’s arm tightly around your back pulling you back to his side, “You shouldn’t get too close to the water, you might fall in.”

Smirking you slid your fingers around the chain wrapped around your wrist dangling across your palm saying, “You know, funny thing about chains,” Your smirk grew as his eyes were now locked on you with his same soft smile, “They work both ways.”

His brow rose only to see you flick the chain up looping it around the King as you pulled him closer to the water in a half jump. Sending you crashing through the frigid lake to sink down just below the surface as you uncurled him and caught his eye with a smile before reaching the surface with him right beside you unable to get mad. Eyeing your glowing form giggling as you tread water right beside him he asked, “Satisfied?”

You giggled again and shook your head, “There’s something glowing in the lake.”

Exhaling softly while you dipped under the surface he eyed the guards that had approached before claiming a breath feeling the chain tighten before its tug, to slip under and follow you. Ignoring his once again wide open robe and glowing bare chest when he reached your side, curiously eyeing the glowing object in the lake. You reached and uncovered curiously eyeing under the water before climbing again. 

Pausing halfway, Thranduil glanced back at you spotting your hand land on your bandaged thigh causing him to join your side and curl your arms around his neck, carrying you up to the surface easing your legs around his waist in an partly underwater piggyback ride. Reaching the surface his hand gripped yours eyeing the stone held before him saying, “Lovely, Alexandrite. I haven’t seen one this size before.”

Glancing back giving you an impressed smile about the orange sized stone you were holding as he eyed you admiring his slicked back wet glowing locks making his smile grow before he started swimming again. Giving you a closer look at the statues in the fountain holding his grip on your calves making sure you didn’t leave your safe spot around his waist. Nearing the statues you shifted your arms on his shoulders to ask, “You can let me down now.”

He chuckled securing his footing at the base of the fountain gripping your legs and spinning you around to his front drawing a shocked gasp from you making him smile as he sat you on the rim around the fountain with his hands planted on either side of you with a smirk, “You’re tired, I should take you back. Get you safely back in bed. Where it’s soft and dry.”

Rolling your eyes you settled back against the shin of the statue behind you exhaling making him smirk larger, “Oh yes, safe, dry and chained to the wall.”

Rising to be closer to you his eyes locked with yours bearing a tender gaze as he said, “I merely wish for you to be safe. As soon as your wounds are mended you’re free to roam as you wish, I could not bear you leaving again as you did before, wounded as terribly as you were.”

Inching closer to you his eyes caught your swallowing before your trembling whisper, “You really don’t want to do that.”

Barely an inch from your lips he whispered, “I really do.” Stealing another blurred glimpse of your eyes his lips closed the distance landing on yours, leaning in closer with a soft sigh at your near melting against his lips through the kiss that ended bringing another brief kiss. After a gentle pressing of his forehead to your he smiled and turned pulling you around his back again for the trip back to the edge of the lake to let you down again.

Smiling at you again through his dripping fingers brushing your wet curls behind your ear and leaned in again for another lingering kiss. Stroking your cheek again his hand trailed along your neck and down your back leading you through the trail again with a gentle hand on your back, collecting his notes on the way to drop them on his desk.

Blinking through your looming tears at his sudden undeserving burst of affection towards you left your new treasure on the table beside your bag filled with your other gems. Holding back your gasp and flinch the King’s hands looped around your middle peering over your shoulder glancing at you saying, “I’ve sent for the healers to check your wounds and re-bandage them.” Inching your head to face him his eyes locked on yours as his fingers left your middle to unhook the chain around your wrist as he pled softly, “Please don’t run, my heart can’t bear it again.”

Nodding at him a soft smile grew on his face a he closed the distance again pressing another kiss to your lips stealing another gentle brush against your back turning to his room while the healers entered. Bowing their heads to him as he passed them catching their knowing glances through his gaze back at you while he shut his door to his bedroom casting the chains aside on a chair beside the door. Stripping out of his wet clothes he heard your doors being shut and the healers easing you down on the chaise lounge. Allowing them better ease at checking and wrapping your wounds again, before helping you into a set of pants and a loose shirt nearly reaching your knees before they helped you into bed again shocked to see your chains had been removed.

Turning to leave, the Healers roamed past the King’s door giving it a gentle knock as they left stirring the curious King to pop his head out spotting you easing your fingers through your hair with a growing smile and crossing to join your side again. In a fresh robe and pair of sleeping pants and dried and combed hair, covering you securely setting the book he’d carried in his lap while fluffing your pillows and settling beside you, “I thought you might like these. We normally read them to children but a lot of our other novels in our libraries tend to refer to them often. Would you like me to read them to you?”

“You don’t have to.”

Smiling larger he leaned in stealing another kiss on your lips and settled back again at your side opening the book, “I am aware of that fact. But I wish to, so relax Love.”

Stealing a glance at him you eyed his content expression as he flipped to the first story and began to read. Lingering at your side until you had fallen asleep allowing him another chance to kiss your forehead before moving to the chaise lounge not far from your bed to sleep there in his new habit to keep close if needed.

..

Stirring from his sleep Thranduil inched up. Catching a glimpse of your frantic breathing  followed by a sudden jolt backward through a choked gasp kicking free from the blankets, sending him charging for you gripping you through your halfway dazed whimpered pleas. Drawing you securely into his lap his arms gripped you tightly through your muffled sobs you let out against his chest. Holding you until you’d finally snapped back to reality as he wondered at your foreign mumbles gripping around the lower half of your shirt. Gently rocking you in his arms he waved the pair of guards that entered at the noise away, keeping you firmly in his grip through the end of your tears and into your tight embrace around his torso through your lingering trembling. Pressing a kiss to your temple his hand stroked across your back as he repeated, “You’re safe here, no one will hurt you.”

Relaxing in his grip his fingers gently tilted your head back to meet his gaze as he asked, “What does ‘Leo’ mean?”

With parting lips he watched your eyes fill with tears again causing his to do the same as you squeaked out, “My-,” His eyes lowered catching your hands sliding over your stomach as you said, “My S-.”

Meeting your eyes again he asked, “Son?” His answer came with another set of loose tears and a nod through your lip quivering as he curled you against his chest again to wait out your tears, holding you tightly asking, “Did you have to leave him to come here?”

Shaking your head you squeaked out, “I, too early.”

His arms tightened around you through your next violent shiver as you drew a shuddering breath, “That is an immeasurable loss. Is the father waiting for you?”

Your head shook against his chest, “No.”

Easing his fingers through your hair he gently kissed your forehead again softly saying, “It changes nothing you know, my heart is entirely yours, no matter how slowly you wish to go, I am yours, I will wait.” Cradling you to his chest he slid you back to your former warm spot easing you down again in his arm covering you both asking, “Did you want to try and sleep again?”

Shaking your head you replied in a weak whisper, “Would you read to me again?”

His soft smile returned pressing another kiss to your forehead replying, “Of course, whatever you wish.” Easing back he turned claiming the book from your bedside table and slide back to your side, smiling as you rested against his shoulder listening to him reading. Eventually your eyes closed and you finally claimed a brief nap curled across his chest firmly in his grip again until the sun rose.

Opening his eyes again one of the guards entered giving a simple bow giving you a timid glance and gently linked his mind to the King’s wishing not to disturb your sleep after your nightmare, “Lord Elrond and Lord Celeborn have arrived, also the Dwarf Company had reached the inner ring of the forest.”

Thranduil nodded his head glancing down at you then back up at the guard stealing another concerned gaze saying, “She is simply resting. I’ll be along shortly to greet them.”

Bowing his head again the guard left as you stirred. Blinking your eyes open at the soft click of the door you looked up at the softly smiling King as he said, “Lord Elrond and Lord Celeborn are here.” Slowly you inched up wiping your face and feeling his arms curl around you again for another gentle hug leaving a gentle kiss on your cheek. “I’m going to get dressed, would you like to come down and meet them or bring them up here? Apparently the Dwarf Company are also near the inner circle of the forest as well.”

“I thought it was just Bilbo and Ori.”

He smiled at you again, “The Company must be eager to see you again. I can send the others away if you wish.”

Your head shook, “No. Might as well get it over with now.” Trailing his path across the room back to his you eased off the bed feeling the ache from your lingering bruises around your sealed cuts and crossed to your dresser. Gently gripping the comb gifted to you resting there to ease through your hair making it appear somewhat decent as you glanced in the mirror on the vanity nearby assuring your face didn’t give away too much of your pain. Straightening up you crossed to wait beside his door flashing him a flickering smile drawing his hand to your cheek again through his caring gaze, “If you get tired or simply wish to rest let me know I’ll send them all away again.”

You nodded accepting his hand easing across your back once again to lead you through to the formal sitting room in the Royal Wing where the Elf Lords rose to their feet giving you a once over with their eyes noticing the large number of bandages still coating you sending a sting through their chests at the pain you must be feeling right then. Smiling at the pair you glanced between them at their heads bowing to you before Thranduil eased you into the large armchair across from theirs while tea and a simple selection of snacks were set out beside you all. Claiming the seat at your side Thranduil prepared your tea for you as Lord Elrond said, “Miss Tiger, We’re so relieved you’re making such a recovery already.” Through his soft smile his eyes locked on yours spotting that same shaky wall from before, trapping in your hidden pain, crumbling and ready to fall.

“Merely bruises and a few bad scars I’m guessing.”

Thranduil passed you your tea carefully saying, “The scars will fade once the bruises heal. That’s normally how we manage them.” Smiling softly you accepted the tea and claimed a slow sip.

Shifting your eyes over you caught Lord Celeborn inching forward accepting the cup Thranduil was offering him as well before saying, “Miss Tiger, I owe you an especially lengthy apology for how my former Wife behaved. She was not herself.”

“Former?”

He nodded, “Sailing West is a tricky process and under the situation she will never be the same Elleth once she is returned to health. She will most likely be granted another life if the worst arrives. But Galadriel will diminish and reform. Should I sail there is an option for us to try again, but that is an altogether more difficult conversation to handle.”

“I’m not upset with her, I understand, perhaps not fully, but at least somewhat of the weight she had to carry and the effect it, had.” Their eyes trailed over you catching the tremble in your voice as a set of tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you claimed another sip through Elrond lowering his gifted cup while Thranduil’s hand gently smoothed over your back.

Elrond’s brows pressed together giving you a concerned gaze, “Does it still weigh on you?”

“The Ring. I know it was foolish to leave when I did, but, it hurt so much. I couldn’t wait. It wouldn’t stop talking about-.”

Thranduil softly asked, “About Leo?” You nodded and he turned to face the pair, “Her Son, Leo. She lost him early, still carrying him.”

Their lips parted and they set their drinks aside seeing the fully exposed wound still bleeding openly deep in your heart and crossed to kneel before you holding your hands while Thranduil claimed your cup as it nearly toppled from your trembling fingers as you said, “300 years, and it, never stops. He shouldn’t have talked about him, it wasn’t right. Just downright cruel.” Looking up at the door a warm trail slid down your cheek towards a guard with a pained expression after spotting you before bowing and announcing the arrival of the Company.

The Elf Lords rose around you freeing you to wipe your cheeks and rise to your feet eyeing the Company along with their fiery haired Cousin Dain, Thrain bearing a large smile and a Dam nearly identical to Thorin in a heavily embroidered deep blue gown eyeing your hidden bandages with a slightly pained expression. 

Before Thranduil could say anything Thorin had already crossed the room to you after your steps you’d taken towards Bilbo and Ori. With a relieved smile Thorin said, “Kurkarukê, I’m so glad to see you.”(My Tiny Raven) Moving right before you, cupping your cheeks and firmly kissing you. Frozen in place you heard Thranduil’s shaky exhale while his fists clenched and a firm glare fixed on the Dwarf King as he fought against his instinct to kill him waiting for an explanation.

Pulling back Thorin’s smile dimmed through his own teary eyes as his thumbs wiped the tears coating your cheeks, “Thorin, I-.”

His head shook and he said, “Firstly, I owe you a terrible amount of apologies. I fumbled our courtship terribly. But I swear to you I will be a better Husband than I have been.”

Barely above a whisper you squeaked out, “What?”

Thranduil’s eyes landed on you with a curious gaze eyeing the pair of you realizing one of you was obviously mistaken as Thorin continued curling his hands around yours, “My Nephews mentioned my Son Thor before I had managed to mention him to you and I am terribly sorry for the impression of me it must have stirred in your mind and the doubts it brought with it. And I understood your wish to stay here when they informed me of it. Why wouldn’t you assume I was married hearing I have a Son, it’s a logical response, and you’re not familiar with all the details of my Kin, but I would love it, when you’re not as upset with me of course, if you’d meet him. He’s so anxious to meet you, keeps asking about His new Mother.”

Once again you squeaked out, “What?” Now feeling a deep pulsing ache from the wounds across your back and leg causing you to pale slowly as you felt yourself nearing the urge to pass out from it. Turning back Thorin’s hands left yours as Thrain moved forward with a soft chuckle sharing a list of things Thror had mentioned doing with you when you arrived, eyeing your glance at Thranduil as he asked you in a soft voice in your mind, “Did you know you were married?”

“I kissed him once, and barely spoke with him after when I heard about Thor.”

He nodded and asked, “You do understand we are married?”

“I, married, I thought maybe engaged..”

“Do you consent to our marriage?” You nodded and he smiled softly at you, “Then I will settle this.”

Stepping forward to your side he eyed the Dwarf pair speaking before Thrain turned saying to you, “You didn’t mention you were my Daughter-in-law when we met.”

The eyes of the Dwarves settled on you as you replied, “I didn’t know.”

Thorin’s lips parted as Thranduil said, “Perhaps we should sit for this discussion.”

Thorin’s voice lowered slightly as he fought back a growl catching his hand gently easing you back to your chair, “I don’t see why it would be your place to decide how this discussion happens.”

Turning back to the Dwarf King Thranduil plainly stated, “My Wife is injured and should not be standing for this discussion.”

Lowering his eyes to you Thorin asked, “You cast me off? Abandoned our union all together?” His hands unclenched and he took a step closer to you pleading through free flowing tears, “You’re my One, Please don’t do this! Don’t abandon me for this one mistake!”

The Companies’ mouths dropped open as the Princes fought to keep their heads up struggling against their tears for possibly ruining their Uncle’s marriage. Drawing in a breath you asked, “How exactly are we married?”

Thorin blinked through his tears stating, “We kissed, and you pocketed the candle Oin gave you symbolizing our glowing future together.”

“So, that.” Raising your hand you brushed your hair from your face back behind your ear, “Thorin, where I’m from the man proposes, outright after a lengthy relationship and a clear understanding between them. No offence but how was I to guess a kiss and a candle meant marriage. It’s like saying if I skipped a stone five times I’d be a Captain of an Army.”

Thorin slid his fingers over the edges of his fur lined vest and mumbled, “King actually.”

Your shoulders drooped as you asked, “Excuse me?”

Thorin wet his lips, “Part of the coronation is the customary stone skipping contest, you have to get five skips before you can be named King.”

Covering your face you mumbled in italian as he eyed your ring, “That is ridiculous.” Sighing you locked eyes with him, “Thorin, we barely spoke before, and after and I was really just supposed to assume marriage? Especially with hearing about Thor, which I understand fully now, so no more apologies about it.” Glancing at the Princes you pointed a finger at them saying, “Stop that, I’m not mad at you.”

Looking back to Thorin you caught his second timid step towards you with a slightly hopeful glimmer in his eyes, “You’re not refusing me then?”

Your hand shifted to Thranduil saying, “I-.”

Crouching at your side Thranduil caught your eyes with a soft smile saying, “In this world a Woman may take as many Husbands as she wishes. If you wish to we can make this work for you.”

Looking back to Thorin you asked, “I’m supposed to have two Husbands?”

Thorin drew closer kneeling before you, “If you would accept me.”

“I thought you two didn’t like each other.”

Easing his hand over yours Thranduil held your hand meeting your eye, “We’re marrying you, not each other, and in time any petty arguments will ease.”

Claiming your other hand Thorin nodded with a soft smile in return, “We can work everything out.”

“You both barely know me. If you did-.”

Dis quickly crossed the room shooing her Brother aside as she pulled the chair on your left against yours claiming your hands with an easy smile as Thorin settled on the stool at your feet as Thranduil held his spot resting his hands on the arm of your chair while Dis said, “Now, I’m Dis, your Sister. All that can be settled later.  With things like this it always starts with courtship, even after the marriage has already happened. Plus, they both have heirs already so it lessens the pressure even more. So, you mentioned learning each other, you’ve met our Father, what about your family name first? Or is it simply Tiger?”

“Um, we don’t share our true names. But my Father called me Rowena on documents, though that wasn’t my name either, it was something with an R. He picked the nickname Tiger when my freckles appeared.”

She nodded as Ori claimed the stool beside her writing it all down before she asked, “What about your Family?”

Her smile dimmed slightly while Thranduil and Thorin shifted closer to you seeing your discomfort while the others settled around you in the empty chairs while Tauriel and Legolas claimed the two behind Thranduil’s back. “Well, last time I saw them I had, 9 Brothers and 5 Sisters.” Their jaws nearly dropped at the numbers, “My, um, Parents were from different clans. Breaking rules to have us, so he could visit under the week of the full moon but had to leave again after. He, there were always battles, and he fell when I was nine. My Mother married again. And our people needed land.” Her grip on your hands tightened as your tears filled your eyes again, “And a man came offering a trade. Gave our clan 5000 acres in exchange for five females, including me.” Deadly silent around you they all watched the tears stream openly across your blank expression, “I was 13, the youngest taken, we were split up. The man kept me, his clan only had one rule for the bartered females, no babies. But I thought, if they could just feel it, they wouldn’t-.”

Your voice trailed off in a squeak before a shaky exhale as Thranduil softly said, “Leo.” You nodded and he softly informed the curious Dwarf King at his side, “Her Son.”

With a pained expression Thorin’s hand rested cautiously on your knee as you sniffled and continued, “He found out, and he wouldn’t stop, and they” Drawing in another trembling breath, “Wouldn’t stop him. And then they took Leo, after...There was a, a war between a third clan. And they wanted him. So I, shifted and flew until I found them, and I told them where to find him on his hunt. These so called enemies of ours saw what they’d let him do, and all I asked was for them to make it as painful and slow as possible. They did. When he was found they wiped out the entire clan and they took us with them. Hid me. But we couldn’t stay, we weren’t kin, marked untouchable. So the one that promised us safety took us as far as he could and we stayed there, hiding. But the others left eventually and we lost contact. I hid for 300 years trying to be as, invisible as possible until they found me, apparently after what I did the land was taken back and our village was burned down, and they hunted me for centuries. I flew and I ran until I got on that bus, and I fell asleep and woke up in a tree being poked at by a tower of Dwarves.”

Wiping tears from his cheeks Elrond eyed the tips of your ears finally closing their points through your curls while Dis wiped your cheeks ignoring the wet trails across hers to say, “You are our Queen now. And one thing Dwarf culture forbids is any harm to her, or any woman for that matter. Far more Dwarf than you realize already. Even Kings, harming a woman brings death as the payment. Everything you have lived through, you’re still breathing, that’s more than what I would say I’d be able to manage. Everything, all of it, you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met, and to put up with this Company, especially Thorin and his moods, that takes a complete different form of strength. None of this, if you wish, leaves this room, but whenever you need to all of us will listen.”

Your eyes shifted between Thranduil and Thorin before the latter said, “Your Son will be marked in our history to be honored properly by all of our Kin, and neither of us will push our union any faster than you wish.”

Thranduil’s hand rose to gently wipe away your next tear, “What he did has no affect on your being intact or our feelings for you, it never will. No one could ever steal that from you.”

“What happens as far as children?”

Thorin, “They will be marked down as both of ours, as per tradition, we’re not going to split them up by whose they are or harm them by doubting their origins.”

“Where are we supposed to live?”

Thranduil eased your curls behind your ear holding his soft smile, “That, we will have to work on that. Perhaps we could try taking turns until something is figured out.”

You chuckled weakly, “What, like building a massive castle between your Kingdoms connecting them?” Catching their considering looks they shared with each other you rolled your eyes catching Elrond and Celeborn’s smirks as you mumbled, “Of course you’re considering it.”

Thranduil, “It would be easier to join our Kingdoms.”

Thorin, “Not even mentioning it would save having to pack up back and forth.”

Dis gently helped you to your feet saying, “You look hungry, let’s get you something to eat.” Giving your hand a gentle pat while the Dwarves all gave you smiles including the Princes who each gladly accepted your hugs and pecks on the cheeks as you followed the Elf Lords that led you through to the dining room. Where they knew a meal was waiting for you as the others spouted out ideas as Bilbo turned and snuck to your side with a gentle hug and a smile with Ori trailing behind him eager to hear more about your journey. 

All staying at your side through the meal and even through to your return to your bed for another nap curled up under your covers as they rejoined the group to sit for a second meal. Listening to the first draft of the plans before settling in their rooms Thranduil offered for the night before he and Thorin both went to your room. Settling around the table in his private office, keeping the door open for a clear view of you as they continued the planning for their courtships and the new castle before settling on either side of you for a nap of their own.

Pt 3

#Thranduil x Reader OC #Thorin x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr

[basalt-dnd]

The Yvel-Takan, or ‘Evil Taker’, a parasitic demon. Clarification that when the Yvel is banished from its host, it’s forced out of the body but not banished to another plane. 

As usual, there’s a story with some background and lore under the cut. I have to say, I really like how the Yvel’s story turned out. A warning that it is rather long.

The art blended into the red splashes is the stock art ‘Ghost’ by Maria Semelevich. Please check out her work- her photomanipulations are amazing!

The cart trail became thick with mud as sheets of rain continued to fall. A mangy dog cowered underneath the bushes, whining at passing carriages. A passing donkey seemed fearful of its presence and tried to pull away from its lead. Most of the carts were heading home from market, and very few of the merchants paid the dog any attention. It was a miserable day, and getting out of the mud was the priority. 

“Here, girl,” a man kneeled and gestured towards the dog. It sniffed in his direction, and he carefully offered it a piece of dried meat. The dog examined the meat and glanced warily at the man before chewing at it, “There you go. We should get you someplace warm.”

Every few paces the man took, he called softly back to the dog and waved it over. It followed him a few feet at a time. After depleting his supply of jerky and slogging through the mud for an hour until he reached the city, he arrived home. 

He ducked into a tiny house with a gas lantern out from, and the dog shuffled after. Immediately, the man got to work collecting a bowl of rainwater for the dog, making a nest of old clothes for it to sleep in, and cleaning the mud from its fur. Despite having the nest of rags, it crawled into the man’s cot and shook off the rainwater on its fur, there. The man gave a soft smile and shook his head. A knock on the door startled the dog into running under the table.

“Vic! You’re back so late,” Mattias pulls down his hood and grins.

“I expected later, with the rain,” Vic responds, trying to coax the dog from under the table.

“Wh- You brought a dog?” Mattias shuts the door.

“Well, she was alone in the rain...” Vic starts to trail off.

“No, she’s perfect,” Mattias interrupts, leaning to look at the mutt under the table, “What’s her name?”

“I didn’t come up with one.”

“How about Tallow?” He suggests, reaching to let the dog lick his hand. Vic stands up.

“I’m not naming her after candles,” he begins unpacking his satchel, organizing his jars of wax and bound wicks.

“You love candlemaking,” Mattias points out as the dog headbutts his arm.

“I do it for a living. I don’t need to name the dog after it,” Vic counts through the silver he made at the market for the day, musing about how they’d need to get proper food for the dog.

“Don’t you like your new name, Tallow?” Under the table, Mattias laid down with the dog. She licked his face and he scratched her behind the ears.

“Fine, Tallow it is,” Vic sighed.

“You know you love me,” Mattias seemed to be joking to both of them. He got up from under the table- more of a barrel, really- and Tallow slowly wagged her tail at his feet. It was a peaceful night, with the rain drumming on the roof as they fell asleep. The cot was a bit too crowded and a bit too warm with the addition of Tallow, but it was okay. She had a home, now. That was what mattered.

---

Over a year passed, and the stormy autumn gave way to a chilling winter. They spent more silver than they ought to on quilts. Now, Vic was wrapped in one over a tiny cauldron of beeswax. He was always cold, and the room was all the colder without Mattias around. It was a busy week for the town guard, and Mattias wasn’t always able to come home for the night. 

Tallow slept against Vic’s back as he dipped candles. They were almost ready, and just in time for the shortest days of the year. Candles were in high demand with the days growing shorter. 

That afternoon, Mattias returned home. It was pitch-dark outside, as if it were night. He had dark bags under his eyes, and his smile was a bit weaker than usual. Part of his arm was wrapped in cloth and bandages.

“Let me get you some tea,” Vic hurried to make tea and placed it in Mattias’ hands. Something was wrong. He rarely saw Mattias like this.

“The demons are back,” he muttered between sips. Vic just nodded. He didn’t know what else to do. 

“Back? I thought it was devils, before,” he asked, rubbing Mattias’ back and wrapping him in a quilt as he drank his tea.

“Yeah, it was. Same thing,” Mattias said, never-mind that they both knew the differences between demons and devils. He put down the mug. Tallow rushed to his feet and wagged her tail, and his smile regained a bit of its strength, “Hey there, Tal.” 

“She missed you,” Vic pats the dog on the head, and she walks in circles excitedly. Mattias gave a tiny chuckle and scratched Tallow’s ears.

“I missed both of you,” he took another sip of tea. Another peaceful night, haunted by the omnipresent danger of demon attack. Mattias re-bandaged his arm, which was scathed from the claws of a quasit. They may have been tiny, but their poison easily infected wounds. He ate, finished his tea, and immediately went to sleep. Vic didn’t know the last time Mattias had gotten rest. He stayed up a bit longer, playing with Tallow with a scrap of cloth and waiting for his candles to cool. 

---

Mattias was gone by the time Vic woke up, having already left for his guard shift. Tallow was just outside, romping around in the thin layer of snow that coated the cobbled streets. 

So the morning went as it usually did, with Vic fixing himself and Tallow breakfast. Vic paused from frying an egg as a growl came from outside. It sounded like Tallow, but in the time that he had gotten to know her, she almost never growled. 

He threw open the door and looked around the street for signs of the dog. She had quieted down, but was staring towards an alley directly across the street. Vic could’ve sworn he saw a person’s shadow on the snow. It looked a bit like smoke.

“Tal, come here,” he waved her in, but she didn’t turn to look at him. She started walking down the street, and he ran after her, “Tal!” The dog turned and looked up at him, and Vic’s chest tightened. Something was wrong. Her expression wasn’t the same. Her tail didn’t wag when she saw him. Her ears were pointed back. She was almost limping.

“Tal, come on,” Vic crouched down in front of the dog, stretching out a hand. She usually headbutted him when he did that. He didn’t expect her to bite him. He didn’t expect her to draw little droplets of blood that speckled the snow. He didn’t expect to hear his own shout. 

His chest rose and fell at an unsteady pace as he got to his feet. The snow stung against the bite as he lifted himself up, “Tallow...?” It was a whisper, now. The dog was backing away from him, her eyes darker. Snowflakes fell on her fur. Usually she would shake them off. She didn’t. She ran down the street, and Vic was frozen in place. 

As the dog approached the frozen pond down the street, Vic heard the shouts of town guards. One rushed past him, a spear in hand. Another cornered the dog. It couldn’t have been Tallow. Vic couldn’t imagine it was Tallow. 

One of the guards was bitten on his calf. A dog didn’t have that kind of bite. Rivulets of the blood ran in the cracks between the cobblestone. The other guard raised her spear and struck at the dog. Vic ran towards them.

“Hey!” His lungs felt raw from the scream, “Don’t hurt her!” He nearly slipped on the ice as he grabbed at the guard’s spear, trying to wrench it away from her. There was no way he was strong enough. She pulled the weapon back and it slipped from her grasp. A horrible yelp pierced the air as the spear embedded in the dog’s side. 

“Sir, we’re dealing with a demon,” the guardswoman shook Vic off of her arm. He crashed to the ground beside the dog. He knew she meant well. He knew- but he wasn’t going to let it be the death of Tallow. Tears formed in his eyes as he held the dog to his chest. The guard stood above him. She wasn’t sure of what to do. Footsteps were approaching from all directions, closing in on the crumpled heap that insisted on saving a demon.

“Vic!” Mattias shouted, out-of-breath and bleeding. Vic only remembered the mutt struggling at him and ripping up his tunic. She bit at his face as he tried to hold her. The rest was a blur. He was dragged to his feet, and Tallow was pried from his arms. He was dizzy and couldn’t stand without Mattias’ support. Mattias also served to hold him back as the guards held the dog still. A cleric arrived. His name was Roderick- Vic had seen him at church, before. Dark smoke was pulled from Tallow’s nose. Her side was oozing black ichor and her chest quivered with painful convulsions. Mattias was trying not to break from an even face. If he did, he would cry. No, he was crying. They were silent tears, a contrast to Vic’s fitful sobbing.

Finally, finally Tallow slumped to the ground and the shadow fled in an instant. She remained still, and then stood. She was shivering and her tail drooped, but she ran to Vic and Mattias. She was alive. They had their Tallow back. 

They had her back.

They had her back.

---

A week had passed. Demons had been driven from the border, at least for the moment. Vic and Mattias stood in the archway of the city’s largest church to thank Roderick.

“What was it?” Vic asked, after formalities had been said and they had repaid Roderick for his help with fine, tallow candles for the church. Vic couldn’t speak of the demon without squeezing Mattias’ hand.

“A Yvel-Takan, I believe,” Roderick answered, “The ‘evil-taker’. A smokey demon, not unlike a human in shape and size. It’s a parasite, of sorts. A devastating creature, and perhaps the worst of Abyssal creatures that are relatively common in the mortal realm.”

They didn’t say much more. After all, the couple needed to be on their way home to change Tallow’s bandage wrappings. They couldn’t pass up on getting her a treat of dried jerky on the way home. She took quite a liking to it after that day when she first met Vic. They may have never discovered where Tallow was from or why they met her, but she was a gift and a miracle that no demon would take from them. 

“So if we ever find another dog, can we name them Wick? How about Chandler?”

“Cut it out with the candle names. Let’s get home.”

#dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #dnd 5e #d&d 5e homebrew #homebrew #lore #npc #rpg #tabletop rpg #monster #creature #demon #statblock

[bbbbbbeans]

For Their Sake Pt. 3

Honestly, this is probably shit but hey I’ll let you be the judge of that. I’m just glad I’m posting this before Sunday.

So yeah here’s some sprace.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The voice was stern, flinty. There was a hint of “just try to argue with me, see what happens,” mixed in.

Jack could tell this wasn’t going to go well. Especially when the voice that followed was exhausted and peeved.

“Leave me alone, Sean.”

Jack wasn’t eavesdropping. For him to be doing that, Spot and Race would have to be aware of his presence in the room. But they knew. Oh yes, they knew absolutely.

Spot shook his head and walked closer to Racetrack, ignoring the deadly glare aimed in his direction.

“Jack,” he called, “be a pal and get me the bandages.”

Shifting his eyes between the two, Jack nodded slowly and sunk out of the room, like a peaceful fog rolling out.

Race had been getting better. Much better, in fact. So, Jack assumed it would be alright if he were to let his friend start selling again. And it had been. For a while. He kept close to Jack most of the time, avoided conflict like it was the plague, never stepped foot in Brooklyn. But, eventually, that just wasn’t enough for Race.

After almost a week of selling, Race ran into some trouble. He was finally able to stray from the safety of Jack’s company a little when he caught the Delancey’s trailing behind him. To be sure they were following him, Racetrack walked around in nonsense directions, not really caring where he wound up.

But it had to get difficult. Of course it did, because what newsie has it easy? Certainly not him.

Soon enough he was climbing up fire escapes and jumping down, hurdling himself over fences until he was certain the Delanceys were gone. He was in the clear. Though, it didn’t matter anymore. The damage was done.

Race’s heart was beating out of his chest, he could feel blood seeping through the bandages, and his head spun like a wheel. But, he could see Davey in the distance, and if he could just get himself over to the other newsie, he knew he’d be okay. He was way too far from the Lodging House for Jack to save him this time.

The road separating Race and Davey wasn’t too wide. Race crossed it without too much difficulty. But, upon reaching Davey, his knees began shaking and eventually gave out right in front of his friend. Luckily though, Davey was quick to reach out to Race and haul him upright. Most of his body weight was being supported by Davey, but he didn’t mind, he was only concerned about why Racetrack was in such poor state again.

But nevermind that. Davey couldn’t worry about why he was so hurt again, he did have to worry about how to help him. After all, they were pretty far from the Lodging House.

Davey, while standing a little shorter than Race, lifted him into his arms easily and began walking at a fast and steady pace, hoping to reach the Lodging House with ease. Somewhere along the way, Race passed out. Whether due to blood loss or exhaustion, Davey couldn’t tell, he just prayed someone else would be around or at least nearby, so he didn’t have to fix this on his own. And, thankfully, while making their way back, they ran into Jack, Crutchie, Elmer, Albert, and Smalls. All of whom were all ready to be of assistance.

“Someone should get Brooklyn,” Crutchie announced after Davey and Jack had laid Race down in his bed. All the conscious newsies in the room knew that by Brooklyn, Crutchie really meant Spot Conlon. No one dared to argue.

“You’se is right, Crutch,” Jack nodded. “Any volunteers?”

“I’se’ll go!” Smalls replied.

“I’ll go with her… probably best to travel in pairs over there,” Davey offered. He then added quietly, “We don’t want anyone else getting hurt so bad…”

The comment left everyone staring desperately at the unconscious newsies and praying to whatever god may be controlling them to please, please, let him live. And let him live happy for more than a week.

Davey and Smalls made sure to waste no time in locating Spot. From there, it didn’t take long to convince him to drop his papes in the middle of the day and trek all the way to the Manhattan Lodging House. But when they finally arrived in Jack Kelly’s territory, Race had only just woken up, and he was clearly disoriented. Spot refused to be negligent to his partner's pain and suffering, and if that meant caring for him to a point where Racetrack felt smothered, then so be it. As long as he was safe.

And that’s what landed them in an argument after a whopping total of five minutes.

“I’se is tryin’ ta have a serious conversation with ya.”

“Yeah, and I’se is tryin ta subtly avoid it.”

“Race,” Spot tried softer this time. “I can see it in you’se eyes. The panic? Ya scared. Ya can’t hide it, ‘specially not from me.”

Racetrack only growled in response, “You don’t know nothin’, Conlon.”

A knock from the doorway interrupted their dispute. Two heads turned to face the intruder and were met with the uncomfortable face of Smalls. She held up a small, black case that’s paint was chipping and edges wearing away.

“Someone order bandages?”

After spending a great deal of time convincing Race to lift off his shirt, Spots shaking hands were cleaning the fresh blood from his chest and wrapping new bandages around him. The usually stoic young man was finding the air around him thin and difficult to breathe. Everything about that day seemed wrong. Race wasn’t supposed to get hurt again, and Spot wasn’t supposed to be in Manhattan making sure his lover stayed alive.

Sooner or later, Race flinched at the tight bandaging. That hadn’t gone unnoticed by Spot, who’s breath inevitably stopped short and hands rattled like an overheated tea kettle.

“Sean? Um… heh. Guess you’se is ready to toss me ovah Brooklyn Bridge, huh?” Race chuckled, trying- and failing tremendously-  to erase the tension between them.

Spot’s brave facade faltered then. He stared into Race’s eyes as his own filled like a pond after a storm. “Tony, you really gotta stop this. I can’t keep seein’ you’se all roughed up like this anymore. Aftah… Aftah the strike… I- I didn’t know what ta think. Kelly told me why you’se got soaked that night, and- please. Please, you can’t keep doin’ this. Brooklyn loses a lot, Race. We can’t- I can’t lose you too.”

His begging tore Racetrack inside. He could see how hard Spot was trying to contain his tears, and as much as he’d deny it later, Race felt so guilty. He never meant to hurt or scare anyone, he wanted to make his brother’s happy. Was that really so bad?

Race took Spot’s hands in his and stared into his eyes, “You’se is never gonna lose me, Sean. I promise, I ain’t goin nowhere.”

“You’se could’a died today.”

“Yeah… but I didn’t. I’m not really scared, Spotty. And look, see, you’se patched me up real good! I’se is gonna be just fine, Brooklyn, don't you worry.”

“Yeah, right,” Sean chuckled, watery and genuine. “Like I’m gonna ever gonna stop worryin about you, ‘Hattan… Um. Look, it’s startin’ to get late, so I should probably…”

Neither boy wanted Spot to leave. The room felt lonely at just the thought of Spot’s absence.

“Can’t you stay a little while’s longer? Dune can take care of Brooklyn for a night, right?”

“I don’t know, Race… I mean, sure, she could definitely handle it, but she’ll soak me as bad as you without being told earlier.”

“So? I’m not the only one who ain’t ever leaving. I know you ain’t either. If she soaks ya, then I get to fuss over you instead,” Race persisted, giving his lover a lopsided grin.

Spot’s heart melted from the sight of Racetrack’s crystal eyes pleading for him to stay. Well, he’d live for the time being.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stay a little longer, but I ain’t stayin all night.”

Just the sight of Race’s eager smile was enough justification for what Spot was doing. So, he stopped worrying about the consequences of getting home late and crawled behind race in his bed. Spot wrapped his arms gently around Race’s torso and held him close. His one hand reached up and ran through the bird’s nest that is Race’s hair.

“Get some sleep,” Spot murmured. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“I love you, Sean,” Race began, “I’m sorry for getting mad before.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I love you too much to be mad ‘bout that. Go to sleep.”

Race had never been religious, but in that moment, he’d never prayed more that Jack was keeping the other newsies away from the room. He didn’t have the energy, nor the patience, to tolerate any jokes or teasing they’d put him through. And, lucky for him, Jack was doing just that, with Davey’s assistance. As the daylight faded to darkness and the newsboys of lower Manhattan began to file inside the Lodging House, Race lay at peace for the first time in a long time.

As for Spot, well, the King of Brooklyn could finally say that the tension, which had built up from the day’s he’d spent away from Race and mostly unaware of his love’s condition, had finally been left to vanish in the past.

For all of their sake’s, the tension was shifting to bliss once and for all.

#Sprace #Newsies #fanfic #newsies fanfiction #racetrack higgens #spot conlon #king of new york #i procrastinate too much #oops

[rauliskafan]

A Hard Lesson in Incrimination: Chapter 13

Authors’ Note: Now that the truth is out, Rafael returns home. But have his wounds healed? And how can Natalia help him? Read on for the final chapter of this installment of our “Hard Lesson” series!!! @vintagemichelle91 and I cannot thank you enough for your feedback, and we promise more story very soon!!!

           It was as if he’d been absent for years, and when Rafael laid eyes on Violetta and the twins, an ache intensified. His little girls seemed to have grown so much during the past few weeks; he couldn’t bring himself to imagine what more he might have lost if he still languished behind bars. Sighing, he looked in on Violetta playing with Ashtonja and Harold. To his muñequita, all was right in the world because her Papi was back.

           But Rafael was far from home. He stayed miles away as that night in the dark replayed in his mind. Sometimes there would be moments where it started to fade. Then it would return in flashes. Flashes that stung harshly and caused him to wince with fresh pain.

           “Atticus?” Natalia’s voice brought him back from his island of endless, unwanted thoughts. Glancing up, he offered her a small smile.

           “Yes, hermosa?”

           “You have a visitor, but if you’re not up to it—” Natalia began to say, but Rafael shook his head, needing the distraction

           “I’m fine,” Rafael replied. “Who is it?”

           “Me… I hope this is a good time,” Liv said as poked her head in the living room.

           “Come, sit,” Rafael said before looking back to his wife. “Thank you, hermosa. I’ll help you with the twins in a bit.”

           “We’ll be waiting,” she said, giving Liv’s arm an affectionate squeeze.

           When he was sure Natalia was out of ear shot, Rafael spoke to his friend.

           “What brings you by” he asked. “I thought Noah had a painting class.”

           “Bill brought him,” she answered.

          “Everything alright there?” Rafael inquired.

           “Getting there… everything else is a little crazy with Amanda on desk duty. But I have Carisi. And Fin. So I decided to steal a second to see how you were doing... and to tell you that Miranda Pond is representing Cutter.”

           Rafael’s brow arched. “After everything that son of a bitch did?”

           “The woman likes a challenge,” Liv replied. “She’s going to work the self-defense angle. Maybe throw in some temporary insanity.”

           “Insanity was falling for Eve’s charms in the first place,” Rafael hissed.

           “I agree. She started this whole mess. But Cutter ended it.

           “And nothing is forgiven.” Leaving the sofa, he began to pace around the room, thoughts swirling through his head as he tried to set himself right. But how could he explain? What would bring the silent rage to a stop?

           “Liv? I feel as if I’ve asked you this once before… but if you can, tell me. How did you cope?”

           “After Lewis?” she knowingly asked.

           “Yeah.

           He watched her face cloud over before a brilliant smile broke through the fog.

          “You know the answer to that question, Rafa,” she said, her brown eyes drifting to a picture of Natalia and their three little girls. His own emerald gaze focused on the photograph, and he felt a sense of peace wash over him.

           “Thank you,” he said. “I need to keep remembering that.”

           “And I need to get going,” she said. “Noah wants to make cupcakes. With hot chocolate on the side.”

           “Don’t forget the marshmallows,” Rafael commented with a smirk.

           “I sure won’t.” She started to pull on her coat and sling her bag over her shoulder. Almost at the doorway, she stopped and turned to Rafael. “If you ever need a sidebar, you know where to find me.”

          "Thanks, Liv. I’m holding you to that.”

           “We have lots of food!” Violetta cried as she watched her two grandmothers pack some dishes away in the refrigerator. “No need to go shopping, Mami.”

           The women laughed, and Natalia kissed the top of her sweet pea’s head. “Well then I guess that means we have more time to do fun stuff and catch up with Papi.”

           “Also feed Hazel and Holly,” Violetta said, rolling her eyes and continuing to color a unicorn with Ashtonja by her side.

           “I got that, Natalia,” Ashtonja said, reaching for the bottles.

           “Thank you, Ash. I’ll be up soon.” Natalia promised while Alessia slipped into her coat.

           “Well, everything is set… call me if you need anything,” she said. “I’ll bring Pop Pop by tomorrow. With a certain lady who knows a princess!”

           Violetta clapped, and Natalia smiled at the thought of seeing Harker again. Of thanking her for everything…

           …of Fin joining them per the chief inspector’s request.

           “Tell Pop Pop I say hi,” Violetta giggled with a wave.

           “And I’ll also be back in the morning to help you with breakfast, Natalia.” Lucia said before taking her daughter-in-law aside.

           “He’s… he wouldn’t really talk to me about it,” Lucia continued. “Is he alright?”

           “He will be,” Natalia said. “It’s just going to take some time.”

           Smiling sadly, she hugged Natalia and started to follow Alessia out the door. Just as they were leaving, a cab pulled up to the curb. They seemed surprised to see Maggie and Dodds emerge, the couple’s hellos mingling with their goodbyes. The sergeant smiled, his greeting warm. Maggie still seemed distant… cold…

           …but Violetta excitedly ran to her aunt.

           “Tia Maggie! Tio Mike! Where you been? I missed you!” The little girl hugged the ballerina’s legs, and Maggie bent down to hug her close.

           “I know, Little V,” she said. “I missed you, too.”

           Dodds gave Natalia a quick kiss as Rafael joined them. When first she saw him, Maggie’s face stayed blank. Eventually, she extended her arms to embrace him.

           Yet a layer of ice seemed to linger between the sisters.

           “Have a seat,” Rafael said.

           “I want to check on the twins,” Maggie replied.

           Violetta was quick to lead her aunt up the stairs, and Natalia sighed.

           “She’s still upset?” she murmured.

           “IAB isn’t done with me yet,” Dodds admitted.

           “Oh, Mike, I’m---”

           “It’s okay, Natalia,” he said. “Could be worse. And Maggie... well she...”

           “She’s here,” Rafael said. “You both are.”

           “And we’re happy about that,” Natalia said.

           Because at least it was a start.

           “Stay with me a while longer, Papi,” Violetta pleaded as she snuggled deeper into Rafael’s arms.  

           “Of course,” he promised, stretching out in her big girl bed, following along as she read from her picture book.

           “Papi?”

           “Si, muñequita?”

           Setting the book aside, Violetta touched her father’s face.

           “Don’t ever go away again,” Violetta whispered. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the image of how sad… how scared she must have been when Natalia arrived home alone, leaving his little girl to wonder…

           “I’m here, Violetta. I’m here.”

           But for the moment, it was all that he could promise.

           Once Violetta drifted off to sleep with the sound of his song, Rafael retired to the nursery to check on the twins. Natalia watched from the doorway as her husband kissed Hazel and Holly goodnight. Smiling faintly as he lowered the lights and moved towards her, Rafael took her hand and let her lead him to their bed.

           “You are the best medicine for our babies. You are their best guy… don’t ever forget that.” Natalia kissed his cheek. “And you are mine, Atticus. We’re all going to be alright.”

           “I… a part of me wonders if that’s possible.”

           “It’s not… not possible?” Natalia echoed, clutching his hand a little tighter. She studied his face, taking note of the worry lines forming around his green gaze, the light no longer shining in his stare. Only gone from her side for a little while and yet something had shifted…

           …shattered. Was it beyond repair?

           “Talk to me, Atticus,” she ventured, treading lightly as she pressed her free hand to his brow. Relieved when he didn’t flinch, she still watched and waited as he obviously gathered the too many thoughts floating through his mind before they started to trickle off his tongue.

           “Because turnabout is fair play?” he quipped back. The sass in his tone brought a small smile to her face, and Natalia cupped his cheek as she peered into his eyes.

           “I don’t understand,” she said softly

           “There were times when I wanted truths from you.” Blinking suddenly and just turning her chin into her shoulder, letting her hand fall away, Natalia felt the memories of Robert Emerson, of Nevada Ramirez wash over her, murky waters that always threatened to pull her down and take her to places without light, with no air.

           “Forgive me, hermosa,” Rafael quickly said. His lips dotted her temple, and he ran his large hands up and down her arms until he laced their fingers together. “I don’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

           “It’s fine,” she started slowly, lifting her head to meet his eyes. “This isn’t about… what do you need?”

           “Just like that?” he asked nervously.

           “Always like that,” she assured him, inching closer and wrapping her arms around his neck, her lips finding his ear on the back of a whisper. “After all the times you’ve been there for me… anything, Atticus. You can cry or scream or smash a window.”

           “I’m tired of crying,” he muttered. “And the last thing we need is glass everywhere.”

           “You know what I mean,” Natalia said, feeling her cheeks flush. Now she kept him at a small distance and watched his face as he inhaled a sharp breath and finally spoke.

           “What happened… what he did… to me…” His speech stalled, the image somehow hanging in the air between them. Something Natalia hated imagining; something she loathed even more because it was far too real for her husband.

           “Go on,” she gently prodded. Rafael bit his lip, and she worried that he would pull away, thinking that he had to be strong and choke the memory down. That wouldn’t work… especially between them. Now the deep breath was hers to take, and Natalia was ready to step into the minefield that had to be his soul, to choose her words carefully and hope that she wouldn’t set off an explosion when he stunned her by dropping his head to her shoulder…

           …as she had so many times when the songs in the air were sweet and all was well in their corner of the universe.

           “It’s not that I can’t get past it,” he continued determinedly. “I will get past it.”

           “I know that, Atticus,” she told him, fighting back her tears and winding an arm around his waist. Her lips fell to the top of his head, and she drew him closer.

           “But it makes… it makes me think of all…”

           When his voice began to fade, Natalia looked down to see his eyes flickering, his lips curling over his teeth.

           “…of all the victims… through all the years,” he continued, his tone softer and strangled. “How many times have I tried to empathize? Listened and nodded my head as if I understood?”

           How many nights had she seen him come home in the pitch black, tortured by tales from the shadows that she saw follow him into sleep?

           Before she could answer his questions---

           “Never,” Rafael continued. “Never once did I understand what it really feels like. It’s… it’s everything ripped away at once. Things you’ve counted on, the way the world is supposed to work…”

           Swallowing a sob, he inched from her side, his head collapsing into his hands.

           “It’s just gone,” he said in a muffled voice.

           “I know, Atticus,” Natalia replied, tentatively rubbing his back. Looking at her through his fingers, Rafael appeared far more scared, more hurt than he had in any moment since he returned home.

           “Atticus, I… I didn’t mean to---”

           “Oh, Natalia.”

           Shooting up quickly, he hugged her tightly, his lips lost in her hair.

           “Of course, you know,” he murmured into her honey-colored locks. “With Emerson, that bastard Conway… Ramirez.”

           The last name on the list still had the power to sting like the worst wasp, and she couldn’t help but shudder against her husband as he placed one finger under her chin.

           “I… all this time… I thought I knew what it was like for you, hermosa. But I never imagined this.”

           “Atticus, there’s no shame… no guilt in that.”

           “Maybe,” he said, cutting her off and cradling her face in his hands. “Maybe not. But if… if I had known… I would have done so much more. For so many. Especially for you. I feel I didn’t do enough.”.

           “Never say that,” Natalia whispered, trying to stop his trembling. “I’d still be crying in front of my mother’s Christmas tree if it wasn’t for you.”

           The attempt at a joke was weak, but it brought a smile to his lips as he smoothed a few strands of hair from her face.

           “I want more,” Rafael said. “For both of us.”

           “What more is there?” she asked.

           “To erase the past,” he said. “To cut into time and take it away. So you never have to think about it.”

         Natalia let the idea fill her mind. It was tempting…

           …and yet…

           “But what if… what if erasing changed all of it?”

            Rafael looked at her, confused, and now Natalia placed her head on his shoulder, the music back in her mind when he was this close.

           “I mean… what if it took away everything that came after?” she asked.

           “Why would it have to---?”

           “Pull one string, and the blanket starts to fall apart,” Natalia reasoned. “And I wouldn’t want that. I’ll take a few dark days… however many fate wants to throw our way as long as I get this… more of this life with you.”

           Rafael’s lip quivered, and Natalia caressed his face. He exhaled, his breath warm and sweet, and she claimed his kiss as they sank back to the pillows. Even when their lips unlocked, she kept her eyes on his, saw him trying desperately to work his way back to her.

           “Atticus, I will help you,” she promised.

           “I know, hermosa. I just… it’s…”

           “Different,” she said, finishing his thought. “I know. But now it’s my turn. Let me finally bring you in out of the rain.”

           The sparkle in his stare was more tears than she ever wanted to see, and Natalia let him sob into her shoulder, shivering until his voice was spent. After enduring that heartbreaking sound, she placed one palm on his chest, felt his breathing, his heartbeat calm.

           “Will you let me do that?” she asked.

           “Yes, hermosa,” he murmured, giving her a quick kiss. “I can’t… I won’t lie to you. There will be more dark days. Long nights.”

           “I know,” she said. “But I’m here. And maybe it won’t be as black as you think.”

           “What will it be then?” Rafael hopefully asked, and she snuggled into the crook of his neck, kissing him there.

           “The shadows bringing us closer together,” she said. “And when they start to drift into nothingness, there will be you. Me. Our girls. And home, Atticus. Where we all belong.”

           Reaching into her pocket, she retrieved his wedding ring. Rafael offered his hand without a word, and Natalia slowly slipped the golden band onto his finger, remembering the moment they married, every delightful and dark day after. She wanted more of all of it, and she lovingly stroked his face.

           “Till death do us part,” she said.

           “I don’t want to think about that, Natalia.”

           “Then forever and a day, Atticus. Until the end of time.”

           Their lips touched, and she brought the sheets over their bodies. His hand stayed in hers, and Natalia laid their locked fingers atop the quilt, smiling.

           “A little better?” she asked.

           Propping his body up on his elbow, Rafael threaded his fingers through her hair. Maybe it was the moonlight filtering through the glass.

           Or something else giving him back the eyes from that first night she saw him, from the day he spoke their vows, from every instant when he looked at the girls…

           …and her.

           “Yes,” he said. “Thank you. For saving me. For giving me the home to come back to.”

           His head was on her shoulder again, and Natalia kissed his temple, her eyes never leaving his.

           “Te amo, Rafael,” she promised over and over until his lids grew heavy and he gave into sleep.

           And the music that was their hearts beating in time seemed to connect to the stars, lighting their way ahead for whatever would come next… after… 

          ...and always.

#raúl esparza #rafael barba #natalia barba #olivia benson #mike dodds #maggie dodds #violetta barba #lucia barba #ashtonja abreu #a hard lesson series #a hard lesson in incrimination #law & order: svu #svu fanfiction