#anyways. a witch who’s familiar is part troll | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pesterloglog · 5 months

Text

John Egbert, Jade Harley

Act 5, page 3415-3419

-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] --

EB: hey jade, are you there? i have a computer now.

EB: this boring guy keeps blinking at me though, and it's weird.

GG: john!!! :D

GG: wow, finally!

EB: hi!

EB: sorry i disappeared after you entered the game...

EB: but from what i have seen in the clouds, it doesn't look like you have had much trouble making progress!

GG: nope!

GG: dave was able to set up as my server player

GG: he is building up my house right now so that we can deploy some equipment up there

EB: oh, nice!

EB: dave is serving ALL the ladies, isn't he?

GG: yep!

EB: he is like a dude on butler island.

EB: i mean, a dude who happens to be one of the butlers...

EB: doing a lot of serving, to various ladies who are vacationing at this snooty resort.

EB: wait, i am fucking this up.

GG: :o

GG: thats ok, i wont tell him about it

EB: ok, good.

EB: all i am saying is, why can't i have a dave butler too?

GG: well, maybe you can.....

GG: i will try to put in a good word for you B)

EB: thank you.

EB: what is the equipment you're deploying?

GG: im not sure!

GG: something to do with cloning i guess? it serves some purpose in my quest as witch of space

GG: a nice troll named kanaya has been advising me on stuff about that

GG: have you talked to her?

EB: hmm... i don't think so. not recently anyway.

GG: you should!

GG: a bunch of trolls are not nearly as bad as i thought

GG: even karkat! he has been helping me too... sort of, hehe

EB: he has? but i thought he "hated" you!

GG: oh yeah, he said plenty of stuff like that, but i dont think he ever actually meant it

GG: flying off the handle is part is of his charm in a funny way, once you know that about him

EB: yes, this is what i have concluded about him as well.

EB: he is a pretty great guy. i am really looking forward to more of his outbursts, especially his first conversation with me, which i am to understand will be legendary.

EB: but we shouldn't tell him we said any of this, or he will be "furious"!

GG: heheheh

GG: shhhhhhhhh

EB: so what else have you been up to?

EB: we should try to catch up as much as possible!

GG: yeah!

GG: hmm what else... theres been so much going on, its been a little hard to keep track of it all!

GG: why dont you tell me what youve been up to first?

EB: oh man.

EB: you will never guess what i am doing right now.

EB: go ahead, try to guess, you will not succeed.

GG: ..............

GG: whoa :O

GG: john where did you get that nice flying car??????

EB: oh god dammit!

EB: how do you know!

EB: do you have rose's crystal ball?

GG: sort of!

GG: she gave me the code, and i made a cool pair of goggles with it

EB: argh, i am surrounded by real life witches!

EB: everyone i know is turning magic, it's ridiculous.

EB: including me! i'm magic now.

GG: it certainly seems so! what with your fancy magic car

GG: and your chauffeur familiar, i guess?

EB: no, he is neither a chauffeur, nor a familiar...

EB: he is just a new friend!

EB: also, this is not a magic car, it is an ordinary car.

EB: i found it in my dad's wallet.

GG: you did???

EB: yes, i just found his wallet on the ground.

EB: but my dad was nowhere to be found. :(

GG: :(

EB: the clouds led me to the wallet though, so maybe they will keep leading me to him?

GG: hmmmmm...

GG: maybe, but hang on let me try something

EB: ok.

EB: i have seen lots of interesting things in the clouds...

EB: i guess you used to see things like that all the time, right?

GG: yes!

GG: what have you seen?

EB: wow, uh...

EB: well, lots of things that were mysterious and didn't make much sense...

EB: but also lots of things i recognized.

EB: like stuff i have done before. and also stuff i will do in the future.

EB: and things that rose and dave have been up to...

EB: and you too!

GG: :O

GG: like what, what did you seeeee?

EB: well, i saw you on your island, and saw you sleeping in a floating bed, and...

EB: i saw your pretty snow planet...

EB: and i saw you with some frogs...

EB: have you found any frogs yet?

GG: frogs?

GG: no...

EB: well, i saw you once in a neat outfit...

EB: it was kind of like you were torn from the pages of my favorite japanese mangas.

EB: and the snow was melting.

EB: and you were surrounded by frogs for some reason!

EB: heh, now it sounds like i am describing a weird dream i had about you.

GG: sure does!

EB: which i guess is sorta true?? anyway, i guess that must not have happened yet.

GG: nope! but that sounds pretty interesting

GG: i wonder why i would be surrounded by frogs?

EB: dunno! but you are a witch, remember.

EB: witches LOVE frogs.

GG: hahaha thats true!

GG: i hope i am not planning on putting them in a cauldron or anything o_o

EB: i doubt it, it looked to me like a friendly gathering.

GG: whew!

EB: oh, and one time i saw a green version of you with pointy ears, and you were crying!

EB: did that happen yet?

GG: bluh. yes :|

GG: i prototyped my dead dream self and tried to get her to fight jack

GG: but it turned out to be a BIG MISTAKE

GG: god i cant believe how dumb that idea was, she was an emotional wreck

EB: oh no!

EB: what happened? where is she now?

GG: oh, she went off to cry somewhere else... good riddance!

EB: wow jade, you really have been up to a lot!

GG: hehe i guess so

EB: and i have just been staring at these dumb clouds for hours or whatever.

EB: i even saw my own dead body in a cloud!

GG: what!!!!!

GG: oh noooo

EB: it's ok though, it already happened.

EB: i was sort of tricked into sleeping on my quest bed.

EB: and when i went to sleep, jack killed me.

EB: she must have known that would happen...

GG: who?

EB: vriska. do you know her?

GG: i dont think so!

EB: she is pretty cool, but just between you and me, she might be a little crazy!

GG: well if she tricked you into getting killed, then i would have to agree

EB: but, i don't think it's really like that...

EB: honestly i think dying was a necessary part of the process, and she just didn't tell me so i wouldn't get scared.

GG: what process?

GG: and how are you alive now if you died! john im a little confused

EB: well... i died on the quest bed and woke up here, as my dream self.

EB: and now i have all these sweet wind powers.

EB: which is how i am making this car fly!

GG: ohhhhhh!

GG: that makes sense

GG: dave had mentioned you reached the god tier

EB: yeah!

GG: but he did not say what it involved D:

GG: he probably didnt want to make me worried

EB: maybe, or he was just being some sort of aloof coolkid.

GG: or that!

GG: but he also said that no one else would do it but you...

GG: actually, now it makes sense that i wouldnt be able to, since my dream self is dead

GG: its too bad really

EB: yeah...

GG: i wonder what space powers would be like??

EB: hmm, i have no idea!

GG: oh well

EB: maybe you shouldn't rule it out though?

EB: i mean, you did mention your dream self isn't COMPLETELY dead, remember?

GG: !!!

GG: youre right...

GG: i suddenly dont know if i want to become a god tier anymore :(

EB: heheh.

EB: she was that bad, huh?

GG: DX

GG: i dont even want to talk about her! she is sad and cowardly.

EB: ok, i will not pry.

GG: why dont you tell me about your new friend?

GG: he sure seems to be enjoying that horn!

EB: i know, right?

EB: /rolls eyes

EB: he is just this silly guy i met when i woke up here.

EB: he seemed to be curious about me and followed me around for a while.

EB: also, i noticed he was wearing my bedsheet.

GG: haha! what is he doing with that!

EB: i don't know, there seems to be this whole cult full of people who worship my ghost sheets.

EB: i ran into a bunch of them in a salamander village, they are all completely ridiculous.

EB: so i guess he is a member of the cult?

GG: probably!

GG: you are just going to have to deal with the fact that you are becoming a famous hero john, and people everywhere will idolize you

EB: derp! they aren't idolizing ME, it's my dumb bedsheets they love!

EB: it's so stupid.

EB: OH!

EB: also, another thing about him...

EB: he has the queen's ring!

GG: :o

GG: thats great! john you have to get that ring from him!

EB: i've tried! i asked him politely for it and everything.

EB: but he is very protective of it!

GG: hmmmmmmmmmm

GG: that is a problem!

EB: actually, i think it's ok.

EB: i think he is supposed to keep it.

GG: you do?

EB: yes. once i saw something in the clouds.

EB: it was hard to tell what was going on, but i saw him!

EB: im pretty sure it was the future, and he had the ring, and...

GG: and what?

EB: and then the cloud stopped showing me.

EB: but i am pretty sure that some day...

EB: he will have to wear it!

GG: 8O

EB: so i think i will just let him keep it.

EB: for some reason, i trust him.

GG: ok john.....

GG: i trust you

GG: so i will trust in your trust in him

EB: yeah, trust all around!

GG: im going to be a supportive piece of shit all day and fall down all this trust!

EB: how trustworthy do you even have to BE to CONFIDE in someone like that.

GG: lol

EB: anyway, i guess that's enough of that nonsense.

EB: i should keep looking for my dad!

EB: maybe if i fly around in this car with this guy beeping here, the noise will get his attention and he will find me.

GG: john, i already found your dad!

EB: you did?

GG: yes i found him with my goggles almost right away!

GG: but i didnt want to interrupt you

EB: oh! well that sure is convenient!

EB: where is he?

GG: he is with roses mom

GG: they are in a castle, having some sort of tea party together

GG: they appear to be enjoying each others company!

GG: its quite adorable actually

EB: oh wow...

EB: jade, what if they get married or something???

EB: oh god, if rose became my sister too, that would wreak HAVOC on karkat's shipping diagram!

EB: as leader of this team i submit that we cannot afford to let this happen!!!!!!!!!!

EB: everyone man your battle stations!!!

GG: RED ALERT!!!!!!

EB: we have a ship to sink! arm torpedoes!!!!!!

GG: AWOOOOOOOOOOOGA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

EB: KA-PCHOOOOOOOOOOOOO. target destroyed. B)

EB: heheh, i am just joking around, of course.

GG: durrrr oh really john :p

EB: :P

GG: but really, they make a nice couple and i think it would be great if they got married!

EB: yes, i agree.

EB: even if it would make it awkward for me to marry rose.

GG: i guess so

EB: but maybe that doesn't matter? these are kind of special circumstances.

GG: yes they are pretty special

EB: i wonder if my dad and her mom would mind us getting married...

GG: i dunno

GG: who are they to stand between two youngsters in love?

EB: whoa, in love???

GG: yes john, two people must be in love in order to get married

GG: it is one of the rules!

EB: oh jeez, yeah i guess you're right.

GG: so what do you say john, are you in love with rose?

EB: um...

GG: and if not, are you prepared to fall in love with her?

EB: er.

GG: wellllll? :D

EB: argh!

EB: this line of questioning is making me flustered.

EB: all i know is, i was ordered by karkat to marry rose.

EB: i think we can both agree that it would be reckless to look at a crappy shipping diagram made by an alien, and ignore its message altogether.

GG: i didnt even know karkat made a shipping diagram...

EB: it's a thing of beauty, and it will save the human race.

GG: i will have to make him show me

EB: yes.

EB: btw, you will marry dave.

EB: 100% TRUE REALITY.

GG: <_<;

EB: it's ok though, i will not press you on your feelings for him.

EB: i already know you are totally into the strider anyway.

GG: whaaat...

EB: it's all in the diagram, jade.

EB: it's all in the diagram.

GG: i dont know about that!

GG: i clearly need to take a good hard look at this prophetic document

GG: and possibly tell karkat what an idiot he is!

EB: that you do.

EB: ok but anyway, who cares about his terrible shitty drawings and meddlesome romantic schemes!

EB: how do i find my dad!

GG: uh

GG: well, i dont actually know where he is relative to you!

GG: so i dont know if i can give you directions

EB: bluh!!!

GG: there might be some way to do that...

GG: these goggles are actually REALLY COMPLICATED!

GG: i will look into it and get back to you

GG: in the meantime, why dont you fly around and keep looking?

GG: at least now you know to look for a castle

GG: and maybe the clouds will give you some more tips!

EB: yes, that's a good idea, i'll do that.

EB: thanks for the help, jade!

GG: sure! <3

EB: i will talk to you later.

GG: later!

-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering gardenGnostic [GG] --

#homestuck #john egbert #jade harley #homestuck act 5 #page 3415 #page 3416 #page 3417 #page 3418 #page 3419 #homestuck act 5 act 2

0 notes

earth-ambassador-jim · 3 years

Note

More troll adopting humans and Vice versa

A Helping Hand

AO3 - Fanfiction

How about a wizard adopting a changeling?

~~~~

What had been shaping up to be a rather boring day at the market takes a turn when a young boy darts behind Douxie’s herb cart. Douxie, who had almost been asleep, blinks uncomprehendingly as the boy stares up at him with pleading eyes.

“Don’t tell them I’m here,” He whispers.

The young wizard doesn’t get a chance to say anything because at that exact moment a group of city guards rounds the corner. They are brandishing spears and breathing hard as if they’d been running for a while.

“You there!” One of them barks at Douxie. “Have you seen a boy run by? Brown hair, green tunic?”

At his feet the boy presses up against the cart. He’s shaking now. Douxie makes a snap decision. He doesn’t know what the boy has or hasn’t done but he’s not about to hand a child over to a group of armed men without knowing why.

“I haven’t,” Douxie says leaning casually against his cart.

The man lets out a disappointed huff and then turns to his men.

“Split up. We can’t let him get away.”

He turns back to Douxie.

“If you see him, tell us. He’ll be sporting a burn mark on his cheek. You can try to catch him yourself if your feel up to it -there’s a reward- but be careful because he’s very dangerous.”

Douxie resists the urge to look down to see if his stow-away has a burn.

“Sure,” He says. “But what’s a kid done to warrant that if you don’t mind my asking?”

“He’s a changeling,” The guard growls. “No one suspected him until he got kicked by a horse this morning. The iron shoe revealed him for the demon he really is. The guard who was close by tried to grab him, but the little monster bit him. We’ve been chasing him all morning.”

“A changeling here huh?” Douxie says. “Crazy.”

The guard grunts in agreement and then heads off down the road, leaving Douxie to ponder his best course of action. He glances down at the boy. Sure enough, there’s a burn mark on his cheek. He looks to be about five or six.

Douxie comes to a decision.

“I was just fixing to head out for the day,” He tells the boy. “Why don’t you hide in my cart and I’ll get you out of this place?”

The boy stills.

“You… you’re helping me?” Then his eyes narrow. “No. You’re going to hand me over aren’t you? You want the reward.”

Douxie huffed.

“Kid. If I was going to hand you over, I would have already done so. You can take my offer or leave it but do you really want to run around out in the open?”

The boy hesitates, watching him warily for a moment. There’s a shout in the distance and he flinches. He climbs quickly into the cart and covers himself up with the canvas.

Douxie packs up his herbs and then they’re on their way. He takes the south gate out of town because the guard there is always lazy and doesn’t check carts very thoroughly. He makes it through with no hassle.

Once he’s about a mile away from the forest he turns off the main road into the forest. His passenger notices the change in terrane and his head pokes out.

“Where are we going?” He demands, trying to quickly get out of the canvas but getting tangled up in his haste.

“To my camp,” Douxie says.

He slows down and then stops as the boy keeps struggling.

“Need a hand?”

The boy flinches when Douxie reaches out to him, so he withdraws.

“I just want to help you,” He tells him. “You don’t have a place to go, right?”

“No,” He admits. “But what’s in it for you?”

“Nothing really,” Douxie says with a shrug. “But…”

He hesitates. His own secret is almost as dangerous as the boy’s.

He looks into the fearful green eyes and then thinks: What the heck?

He holds out his hand and lets some of his magic gather around it. The changeling’s eyes widen as they follow the wisps of blue light.

“I’m a wizard,” He says. “Let’s just say I know a thing or two about getting chased out of towns by an angry mob.”

The changeling doesn’t quite loose his wariness.

“Do you need something from a changeling to make a potion?” He asks, finally getting himself untangled. “I heard that wizards sometimes use changeling bones for stuff.”

Douxie groans and drags his hand down his face.

“For the last time, I just want to help you out,” He says with a sigh. “Look if you find out I’m lying feel free to steal all my gold or whatever and run off into the forest.”

The changeling considers that and then settles back down in the cart.

In about ten minutes they reach the cave where Douxie has been staying. Once he’s out of the sun, the changeling side-eyes Douxie and then transforms into his troll form in a flash. He’s a little green thing, with big brown wings that look much too large for him.

“A changeling,” A voice says from the back of the cave. The kid’s wings flare out in alarm. “Really Douxie?”

Archie, in dragon form, emerges from the shadows.

“The town guard was chasing him around in a mob, okay. If they’d caught him they’d try to torture the location of his familiar out of him and you know as well as I do just how pointless that is.”

“Perhaps,” Archie says. He looks like he’s going to say more but Douxie shoots him a pointed look.

“Fine,” The familiar huffs. “I’ve caught dinner. I imagine you’ll want to cook it.”

“Definitely,” Douxie says going to a corner of the cave to get the wood.

~~~~

“So what’s your name?” Douxie asks his guest over dinner.

The changeling stiffens at being addressed.

“Waltolomew Stricklander,” He says.

Douxie blinks.

“And I thought my name was a mouthful,” He says. “Mind if I call you ‘Walt’?”

The changeling slowly nods.

“Excellent. I am Hisirdoux Casperan, but you may call me Douxie and this is my familiar Archie.”

“Nice to meet you,” Walt says in an automatic sort of way.

“Likewise.”

Looking at his clothes, Douxie figures that he probably belonged to a good house before he got outed as a changeling.

“So Walt,” Douxie says, figuring he ought to try to get to know the kid a little better. “What do you like to do?”

Walt slowly finishes chewing the bite he’d taken out of the rabbit leg.

“I like reading,” He says slowly. “My… familiar’s father was teaching me how to play chess.”

That confirms Douxie’s theory that he had been planted in a well to do house. It’s definitely best for the kid if he gets far away from here. More money generally means more people will be hunting for the runaway.

“Nice,” Douxie says. “I’ll have to see if I can make us some chess pieces then.”

Walt blinks at that.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Douxie asks, absently stroking Archie who has settled across his lap.

“Why would you make chess pieces? I’m not going to be around that long.”

Ah… That’s what this is about.

“Are you leaving?” He asks.

The changeling shrugs.

“Well, if you decide you want to have some company for a while. You’re welcome to stick around,” Douxie says. “It’s always just me and Archie.”

Archie gives him a look which he chooses to ignore.

Walter’s wings are just slightly wrapped around him. He’s still keeping the fire between them.

“Think about it and let me know in the morning,” Douxie says with a shrug. “I’m going to be moving on tomorrow.”

Walter nods.

~~~~

Douxie wakes up at some point during the night to Archie poking at him. He shoots a blank glare into the dark but gets up anyway. The fires still glowing so Douxie heads over to it, dragging his cloak with him.

He pauses when he spots a small form curled up in the corner. It looks like Walt is finally asleep. Douxie hesitates a moment and then walks over to him. The changeling looks so small curled into a ball with his wings wrapped around him. Douxie wonders how old he actually is. Changelings are always older than they look, in part simply because of the rate trolls age at, but this one seems young. He could just be a good actor of course.

Douxie wraps his cloak around the small figure and returns to where Archie is waiting by the fire.

“So why are you trying to convince a changeling to travel with us?” The dragon-cat asks irritably. ‘Do you want us to get sold out to his comrades at the next town we get to?”

Douxie huffs.

“Look Arch,” He says. “I couldn’t just leave him there. They were going to kill him!”

“Rescuing is one thing, but you didn’t need to bring him here, let alone ask him to start traveling with us. What are you thinking?”

Douxie sighs and stares into the fire.

“He reminds me of myself. Okay?”

Archie blinks and then cocks his head.

“I…” Douxie starts awkwardly. “Back when my magic first manifested my town… my family… they didn’t take it well. I told you about that.”

Archie nods but doesn’t say anything waiting for him to continue.

“Seeing Walt today, on the run for something he ultimately didn’t get a choice in reminded me of that.”

Douxie shivers. He remembers the cries of “witch!” The fear in the eyes of the people he’d grown up with. The hatred.

He doesn’t realize he’s scratching at his scars until Archie buts his head against his hand. He gives his familiar a grateful smile and starts stroking his head.

“I didn’t have anyone for a long time after that. Not until I met you,” He continues. “It… It was lonely and scary and… I guess when I saw Walt today.” There’s a lump in his throat. He remembers the changeling’s familiar scared eyes looking up at him. He swallows hard. “I thought that it would be nice if he didn’t have to go through that.”

They sit in silence for a while. The soft night noises filter into the cave and the fire flickers gently.

Archie sighs.

“Very well. If… Walt… wants to stay he can. I will support your decision.”

Douxie grins down at his familiar. He swipes quickly at his eyes and then pulls him into a hug.

“Thanks, Archie. You’re the best.”

His familiar’s quiet purrs belie his grumbling.

~~~~

When Douxie wakes up in the morning. There’s a second set of wings wrapped around him. He cracks open his eyes and finds that Walt has cuddled up to them during the night. The little changeling’s head is pressed up against his chest and his wings are wrapped around him and Archie. Douxie’s cloak is over the three of them.

~~~~

Author Notes:

Walt was listening in when Douxie and Archie were talking.

I'm trying to get caught up on my asks. This has been in my inbox for a while. Hope you find this Anon!

Some fun thoughts on this AU: ~Douxie kind of ends up being Walt's father figure in this. ~Walt doesn't usually call him "Dad" though unless he's feeling particularly emotional or being sarcastic. ~Due to their appearances Walt sometimes has had to pretend that he's Douxie's father, which is always weird for them. ~Walt ends up becoming Douxie's apprentice and learning magic. ~He isn't connected to the Janus Order because they think he got killed when he was exposed. He's fine with that. ~When he finds out about Jim being the Trollhunter he tells Douxie (who was out of town at the time.) ~Jim and Toby are very confused when they ask about how Douxie and Strickler are related and Strickler says that Douxie raised him. Their graying history teacher referring to what looks like a 19 year old as his father does not compute.

121 notes · View notes

murasaki-murasame · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on Higurashi Sotsu Ep15 [FINALE]

For better or worse I think Ryukishi achieved exactly what he set out to do with this series, and I guess everyone’s just gonna be forced to reckon with how they feel about his own perspective on this franchise versus how they feel about it, lol.

Anyway, thoughts under the cut, plus Umineko spoilers.

I’m not entirely sure where to even start with this, but I guess the TL;DR is that I honestly think Gou/Sotsu was ultimately just fine despite it’s issues, and part me of can’t help but be like ‘I told you so, lol’ about how this really did end with this episode, and also committed pretty hard to the Umineko prequel elements.

It’s not like all of my theories were correct in the end, but I at least think I was pretty spot on in my prediction last week that this would end with the miracle of them side-stepping the sword issue entirely and choosing the third option of forgiveness and reconciliation. And also them ending it with an epilogue where we go back to the Matsuribayashi timeline and get a happy ending for Rika and Satoko that provides a ‘non-magical interpretation’ for the story while also giving us an idea of how Bern and Lambda formally split off into their own entities and start the relationship we see in Umineko.

I didn’t quite expect them to go down the route of having them agree to just spend a few years apart and accept that they don’t need to literally always be together, but I think that was a really good way to wrap things up between them. It’s pretty much the healthiest compromise to their conflict that doesn’t come across like it completely invalidates one of their dreams. I get why it feels too anti-climactic and convenient for people, but when you pull at that thread you get into wider topics of what the entire story is about, since this was always going to end with Satoko being redeemed and forgiven. People might not have taken him seriously, but Ryukishi was 100% genuine about his regrets about Matsuribayashi’s ending, and how part of why he came up with this new story was to create a better ending, while also doing more with Satoko as a character.

Basically I think a lot of the fandom negativity towards this boils down to people fundamentally disagreeing with the idea that Matsuribayashi was even ‘flawed’ in this sort of way to begin with, or that Satoko was badly written. It’s valid to disagree on this stuff, but at the very least we all have to grapple with how Ryukishi has his own specific relationship with this series.

People like to focus on how he’s a troll who likes to mess with people, but I feel like this is a bit of a wake-up call for people about how he’s actually extremely sincere, almost to a fault, and he likes to use his stories as a vehicle for expressing his personal philosophies and ideals.

This whole story is also a good example of how he just sees this as ultimately being a fictional story about fictional characters, and not literally a matter of real people who need to be sentenced for their crimes or whatever. As early as the original VN he was almost being outright preachy about the message that nobody is irredeemable, and that philosophy carries through to this. But to be more specific, nobody *in this story* is irredeemable. He’s pretty open about the fact that in practice you can’t apply this sort of ideal to real life, but fictional stories are their own separate matter.

I think this whole issue of how he views this as a story first and foremost is also the central reason why this ended in a way that comes across as Satoko being let off too easy for her crimes. One way or another, Ryukishi’s made it clear that he sees this as being no different to how other characters had arcs where they committed crimes but still got forgiven, or how Takano is basically a straight up war criminal who also got forgiven for her crimes.

Anyway, this episode at least committed to the Umineko stuff, so that was satisfying. Sure there’s people that still want to deny it, but at this point I think a lot of people are just being stubborn, so it’s not like anything would have really convinced them, lol. I’m also genuinely not sure what people even would have expected them to do beyond what we saw her, aside from having the two of them literally put on their gothic lolita outfits and turn to the camera and go ‘we are literally Bernkastel and Lambdadelta from the video game series Umineko When They Cry’. I almost feel like there’s some kind of misunderstanding from people who aren’t familiar with Umineko when it comes to the idea of what it even means for this to be ‘an Umineko prequel’, or ‘a Bern/Lambda origin story’. I mean, this is quite literally exactly what I expected and hoped for in that regard. It’s not like I was expecting them to incorporate anything related to, like, Beatrice or the Ushiromiya family.

I think this is also one of those things where you just have to decide for yourself whether or not you want to earnestly engage with the story that’s being told, or if you want to assume that there’s some level of malice or trickery going on.

To be honest, I wasn’t expecting them to literally have Rika and Satoko recite part of Bern and Lambda’s final conversation with each other word for word, lmao. Combined with the scene at the end where ‘Witch Satoko’ talks to herself about how she’s going to give her body back to Satoko while she goes chasing after Rika, it was literally just the exact origin story of their relationship as it’s depicted in Umineko.

I still feel like this would all only really be ‘worth it’ if we actually get something like a full on anime remake for Umineko, but at this point I can’t help but feel satisfied with this part of it all.

It’s not like I think Gou/Sotsu as a whole is perfect or anything, though. I don’t hate it as much as basically everyone else does, but I think Ryukishi’s the sort of VN writer who really struggles with the shift to writing for an anime. I think a big part of the frustration people have is just from how this is formatted as a weekly anime series spread across basically an entire year, instead of being something like a stand-alone VN chapter that you can read at whatever pace you want, even if it ultimately takes the same amount of time to read as it would to watch all of Gou/Sotsu.

There’s also the whole issue of this being a sort-of-remake, which snowballed into a whole list of structural problems. They absolutely tried too hard to have their cake and eat it too, and they should have just committed to it being made for old fans only, instead of trying to sincerely incorporate elements from the VN that old fans don’t care about anymore because they’ve gone over it already.

And as I’ve said several times before, it was a major issue for them to decide to put Nekodamashi in the middle of Gou and then spend like 20 episodes on flashback answer arcs until finally getting back to that cliffhanger. I’ve been waiting until this all ended to decide exactly how I feel about that, and now that it’s all over I still think it was a really bad idea. I don’t think it was an issue for them to reveal that Satoko’s the culprit that early, but having the gun cliffhanger specifically happen that early just gave people misguided expectations and tainted the answer arcs because people were just impatient to get back to the cliffhanger. And then the cliffhanger itself ended up being somewhat anti-climactic, which is what I’d been fearing would happen. It would have worked fine if they shuffled it around so that the cliffhanger happened right before Kagurashi and was followed up in the very next episode, or if this was a VN where you could binge your way through the flashback stuff, but spending like half of an entire real-life year to get back to that point only to have the resolution be ‘Satoko just shoots Rika and the death loops keep going’ just didn’t really work properly.

I’m a lot more generous towards the Akashi arcs than most people are, since I think they really over-estimate how much re-used content there is there, but they still suffer from the central issue of the show trying to be accessible for new fans. It could have been heavily condensed otherwise, without losing anything in terms of Satoko’s whole character arc.

On the other hand I think the first half of Kagurashi was awful specifically because it highlighted how bad of an idea it was to put Nekodamashi so early in the story. They still ended up having to go back to that arc and repeat it anyway, in the most 1:1 recap-y way in the whole show, but that wouldn’t have even been an issue in the first place if that was instead the first time that arc happened in the show.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how I would rearrange the story to make it flow better while still following Ryukishi’s intentions, and I think they could have condensed it into a 2-cour season with this sort of structure if they did something like this:

-First arc where Rika gets thrown back into the loop and quickly figures out that somebody intentionally caused this to happen, and it’s not Takano because at least in this idea of mine she’d try and investigate her only to find out that this version of Takano regrets everything and is planning to flee the village with Tomitake.

Basically I think this could tie into the idea of Satoko initially wanting to just concoct an idea world for Rika so that she won’t want to leave this time, but sort of like what I think happens in Saikoroshi, Rika would still reject it, and this time around there’d be the additional layer of her knowing that somebody did this to her for an unknown reason. Maybe they could even initially market it as a new adaptation or a remake of Saikoroshi, and then reveal that it’s a sequel, to keep that whole element to the series. Either way I think this would end with everything going to shit when Rika rejects that fragment and wants to go back to St. Lucia’s, and Satoko basically snaps and kills her, and that way the audience can find out about her being the culprit without Rika finding out about it yet.

Maybe there could even be some dramatic irony where Rika’s attempts to meddle with certain ‘trigger events’, and her displaying her looper side, inadvertently triggers people around her to get paranoid, and the whole fragment would start to spiral into tragedy from there. I think they could at least use the whole conflict in Tatariakashi about Teppei actually being good this time as a starting point for that sorta thing.

-Second arc, rounding out the first cour, which is basically just Satokowashi. I don’t think there’s much that you’d need to change here, but like I said above I like the idea of her initially trying to just invent a perfect world for Rika and her to live in, instead of jumping straight to murder. But maybe instead of her literally just watching Rika’s loops, she could instead just be stuck using her looping powers to try and figure out how to create that ‘perfect world’ in the first place, by personally investigating all of the different tragedies and how to prevent them.

-Staring the second cour, a third arc where we basically just get to see those loops Satoko goes through, and her whole process of solving the tragedies and ‘purifying’ characters like Teppei and Takano, until we eventually see her perspective on the first arc, and how she reacts to Rika ultimately rejecting the world she tried to make for her.

-A fourth and final arc which is basically just Nekodamashi + Kagurashi, where she just totally snaps and tries to just torture Rika into never wanting to leave the village again, and eventually Satoko gets exposed and they have their direct confrontation with each other.

With that sorta story structure, you’d keep all the relevant bits of Gou/Sotsu as it is now, while being more focused on Rika and Satoko instead of doing kinda half-assed reruns of the Rena and Shion arcs. It’d also push the big cliffhanger between them until near the end of the show, while still revealing to the audience relatively early on that Satoko’s the culprit.

I’d also like them to do more with Satoshi and Shion, so maybe like with how Teppei gets redeemed and Satoko almost gets to have a happy life with him in Tatariakashi, the central question arc of this hypothetical story could also involve Satoko making sure that Satoshi wakes up from his coma, and Shion also gets to have a good relationship with all of them. You could probably do something interesting with the idea of Satoshi and Shion being in the camp of not trusting Teppei and his whole redemption arc.

Honestly I could spend a long time talking about how I would have done things differently, lol. For one thing, I think the Akashi arcs would have been much better if they just changed it so that Satoko used psychological tactics to make people paranoid, and we completely cut out the whole syringe plot device. I get how it fits with Satoko’s whole certainty gimmick, but it made those arcs way too predictable. Even if we knew the outcome, it’d at least be entertaining to see exactly how Satoko might go out of her way to set up the different tragedies. We kinda got glimpses of that sorta plot point in Wataakashi when things seemed to go outside of her control, but they didn’t really do much with it.

Anyway, this is a whole lot of words to say that I think that in spite of the serious structural issues going on, I think Gou/Sotsu as a whole is fine, and was at least working with a lot of perfectly good ideas that could have been executed much better.

Also, on a side note, that one scene during their fist-fight at the start where the art-style changes a bit was kinda weird, but I really liked how it looked, and part of me almost wishes the whole show looked like that, lol. I like Akio Watanabe’s character designs, but I feel like that sort of stylized, almost TWEWY-ish art style would have been really fitting for this series, especially in the horror/action parts.

Oh, and the new rendition of You was so good it almost felt emotionally manipulative, lol.

#murasaki rambles #higurashi #higurashi sotsu #this got kinda long but I still feel like there's so much more I could say about this if I wanted to

19 notes · View notes

amateur-author597 · 3 years

Text

SERIOUS RISE OF THE TITANS SPOILERS

BUT I NEED TO RANT

SPOILERS ARE UNDER THE CUT I PROMISE

I STARTED ROTT TEN MINUTES AFTER IT CAME OUT AT 5:01 PM AEST AND FINISHED ROTT AT ROUGHLY 10 TO 7

I FINISHED THE MOVIE AND SAW 8 SPOILER POSTS WITHIN 2 MINUTES ON TUMBLR

PLEASE BE CONSIDERATE OF OTHERS AND PUT ALL SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT FOR YOUR POSTS AND TAG THEM PROPERLY

FIRST OFF

Everyone who said Blinky would die because of"and blinky" in the trailer

Fuck you

It was very fair but still I was so scared

Same to if those who said Archie died because he wasn't in the trailer

Again fair but I was terrified and anxious as hell

My heart could not have handled if he died or Douxie's grief but I'm still upset about what actually happened

And I wish Zoe showed up so they could give her some characterization

We find out she's known Douxie and been friends with him for over 900 years but she doesn't help with the Arcane Order?

And none of the hedge witches show up to help fight them to defend their home?!?!?!

SECOND!!! THE TRAIN SCENE!!!

YES

LOVED IT

GREAT

Jim you stupid string bean, I love you though

Claire, good job, that was some hard magic

Toby, go duke!

Douxie my husband, YAAASS QUEEN, GET IT BABY

The Police Station

It was so funny

Everything about it I loved

Douxari confusing the officers and being neutrally chaotic

Claire trying to be tough and silent

Toby spilling ALL the tea and the officers not believing him

Archie just being Archie and enjoying the confusion of the humans

KREL SHOWING UP WITH RICKY AND LUCY

YES

OMFG

Keep casually listing just about every spy agency in order

and then just

"And your mum"

What a legend

Literal King 👑

Honestly

Walter and Barbara

Them being engaged and happy

Y E S

Jim being best man

Y E S

Walter DYING before they could get married

N O

H E L L N O

ELI GREW UP!!!!!

MPREG STEVE

Very unpopular opinion

I loved it, so fucking funny

I don't even like mpreg normally

But I loved it as a random side plot cause they probably couldn't find an import part for every character and still give them their deserved screen time

Also, funny!

Krel was way too smug explaining to Steve that he would be pregnant, not Aja

You know how we as a fandom have all decided Krel is Aro/Ace icon or at least Aro spec and/or grey ace (something like that) I have no problem with this and love it, it makes me feel very validated, but what Krel just doesn't want kids and decided it's easier to not have romantic relationships, that's also a legitimate thing a lot of woman do

Does that mean gay guys can have biological kids on Akiridion 5?

BACK TO STEVE

I wish there was a bit where Steve called Lawrence on the phone calling him "dad" or "coach dad" and being like "Hey, I know you're probably busy, you're at school but I'm seriously freaking out and I need your help or advice" and explaining the whole Akiridion pregnancy and Coach just reassuring him gently and telling him that he and Steve's mum would support him and he wasn't alone and they weren't mad at him.

Douxie figuring out the sigil

Good job baby! Smart boy! I am very proud

You very smart

The Order bringing the Titans with Nari mind controlled

😬

That's all

Numora dying

Why! It's was so unnecessary!

I don't necessarily love her by any means

But still!

Dndndbebhsvehehrdidjbdisbeurbvtisjbsgsneosbsyneyjsosnsjdbdynsvsidbfindbzhndhdushdhushdbudhnm

*key spams in frustration*

This began much irritation that just increased

THE BRIDGE

ARCHIE LEFT DOUXIE HIS LONG LIFE FRIEND AND PLATONIC SOULMATE (NOBODY CAN CONVINCE ME THAT NOT JOW FAMILIARS WORK IDC)

YES HE WAS STAYING WITH HIS DAD AND I RESPECT THAT

BUT GODDAMN IT CHARLIE

CHARLEMAGNE COULD HAVE JUST LIT THE TROLLS FOLLOWING THEM ON FIRE AND THEN FLOWN OUT

THE PORTAL WOULD HAVE CLOSED AT THE SAME TIME

OR THEY COULD HAVE FREED THE TROLLS

EITHER WAY

THEY COULD HAVE GOTTEN OUT

WTF HAPPENED THE WHOLE FOUND FAMILY THING THEH WERE PUSHING IN WIZARDS

WHY PUSH A GRIEVING DOUXIE TO ESSENTIALLY GET OVER IT AND ACCEPT ARCHIE AS HIS FAMILY CUZ HE WAS ALWAYS THERE JUST TO GET RID OF ARCHIE ANYWAY

DOUXIE WOULD HAVE NEVER SEEN HIM AGAIN

HE WOULD HAVE JUST SEEN "TELL DOUXIE I SAID GOODBYE" IN THE KRONOSPHERE AS HIS LAST MEMORY OF HIM

*INCREASING FRUSTRATION*

"No More Running"DOUXIE ALMOST DIED BRINGING NARI BACK

I KNEW HE WOULDNT DIE BUT I WAS STILL SCARED

I was sad

NARI AND SKRAEL'S BATTLE WAS PERFECT

CINEMATIC MASTERPIECE I WAS NOT PLEASED WITH NARI DYING

NOR DOUXIE BEING HELD BACK ONCE AGAIN FROM SAVING A LOVED ONE

"Nor more running"

Simple line

Sweet

Shattered me and my very being THE SWITCHING SPELL

AMAZING.YES.ILOVEDIT.

DOUXIE YOU SMART BRILLIANT BOY I AM SO FUCKING PROUD

Douxari was so chaotic and funny and pure in a very weird way

I was sad that THAT screenshot of Douxie and Archie wasn't actually Archie because he looked so happy chddling his familiar but it was still cute

Narxie was so fucking sarcastic when the Arcane Order realized the spell didn't work and I live for it

Walter and Barbara

Them being engaged and happy

Y E S

Jim being best man

Y E S

Walter DYING before they could get married

N O

H E L L N O

ELI GREW UP!!!!!

MPREG STEVE

I loved it, so fucking funny

Krel was way too smug explaining to Steve that he would be pregnant, not Aja

Does that mean gay guys can have biological kids on Akiridion 5?

BACK TO STEVE

Douxie figuring out the sigil

Good job baby! Smart boy! I am very proud

You very smart

The Order bringing the Titans with Nari mind controlled

😬

That's all

Numora dying

Why! It's was so unnecessary!

Dndndbebhsve hehr didjbdisbeurbvtisjbsgsneosbsyneyjsosnsjdbdynsvsidbfindbzhndhdushdhushdbud

*key spams in frustration*

THE BRIDGE

ARCHIE LEFT DOUXIE HIS LONG LIFE FRIEND AND PLATONIC SOULMATE (NOBODY CAN CONVINCE ME THAT NOT JOW FAMILIARS WORK IDC)

YES HE WAS STAYING WITH HIS DAD AND I RESPECT THAT

BUT GODDAMN IT CHARLIE

CHARLEMAGNE COULD HAVE JUST LIT THE TROLLS FOLLOWING THEM ON FIRE AND THEN FLOWN OUT

THE PORTAL WOULD HAVE CLOSED AT THE SAME TIME

OR THEY COULD HAVE FREED THE TROLLS

EITHER WAY

THEY COULD HAVE GOTTEN OUT

Titan Nari

I was so scared when Douxie nearly passes out from lack of oxygen trying to save her

Claire did a great job and I like her but I feel like they're overpowering her without developing her

Nari and Skrael's battle was a cinematic masterpiece

Coach Lawrence seriously needs a break

NARI DYING WAS UNACCEPTABLE

DOUXIE BEING HELD BACK FROM HELPING HER WAS UNACCEPTABLE

"No more running" destroyed me

I AM STILL NOT OK

I DON'T THINK I EVER WILL BE

The 9th configuration

FOUND. FAMILY. CENTRAL.

I'M THE CHOSEN ONE BUT I CAN'T DO IT ALONE

YES

The Final Battle

I don't even know what to say

Aja. QUEEN.

RIP Varvatos

Rip Douxie that fall would have really fucking hurt

He definitely had broken ribs from that

I'm surprised he could walk after even while being supported against someone else to stand

Jim should have just stabbed Bellroc instead of talking

Jim should not have been able to walk and run perfectly fine after being stabbed even with all the adrenaline

Toby WTF MAN

GOOD JOB BUT FUCKING HELL

I LEGIT CAN'T EVEN FIGURE OUT HOW IT HAPPENED

THE MOVIE CAME OUT 4 DAYS AGO (IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO WRITE THE RANT DONT JUDGE) AND I'VE WATCHED IT 5 TIMES AND I STILL DON'T KNOW HOW I MISSED IT EACH TIME

HOW DID TOBY CRASH?!?!

ANYWAY

TOBY DYING WAS NOT ACCEPTABLE

JIM SCREAMING OUT HIS NAME AS SOON AS HE REALIZED TOBY WASNT THERE

BLINKY AND ARGH LOOK OF PANIC AND WORRY CUZ THEY REALIZED TOBY DIDNT COME BACK WITH JIM

DOUXIE REALIZING HE FAILED TO PROTECT SOMEONE ELSE IMPORTANT TO HIM (EVEN IF HE DOESNT HAVE MUCH OF AN ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP WITH TOBY, I REFUSE TO BELIEVE HE DIDN'T ADOPT THEM ALL AS HIS YOUNGER SIBLINGS)

"Always was, always will be" hurt my entire soul

The Time stone

This frustrated me so much it took me 3 days to write just this bit

Go back in time and save everyone?

Yes! Awesome!

Go back to the start the start

Also, I love and adore Toby

BUT IT MAKES NO SENSE

JIM GIVING THE AMULET AND RESPONSIBILITIES AWAY WHEN HE HAS 2 YEARS OF EXPERIENCE AND KNOWS ALL OF HIS MISTAKES AND HOW TO FIX THEM

WTF

AS I SAID I LOVE TOBY AND I LIKE HIM ACHIEVING STUFF

BUT HES NOT TREATED AS BADLY AS THE FANDOM ACTS LIKE HE IS

AND LOGICALLY JIM MADE A STUPID DECISION CONSIDERING WHAT HE KNOWS

I get that he was tired of being the trollhunter

Largely because he was tired of not thinking he would do a good enough job

But odds are Toby will make some of the same mistakes and they'll be right back in that same position except maybe Claire will die that time around

And if you're sick of the trauma and responsibility of it than why would you dump it on your best friend

Once again I say, it was an illogical and dumb decision

I WILL BE RUNNING TO FANFICTIONS TO ESCAPE THIS CANON

25 notes · View notes

alovesongshewrote · 3 years

Text

Almost A Thousand Years - Killahead, Part 2 | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot: You’ve known Hisirdoux Casperan for almost a thousand years. You’ve hated him for almost a thousand years. And for almost a thousand years, you’ve been cursed to feel each others pain. But somewhere in that time, things changed. [Hisirdoux Casperan x Mostly Gender Neutral but Probably Female Presenting Based on How Historical Men Treat Them!Reader]

Word Count: 5,258

Warnings: B A T T L E

A/N: HAPPY HOLIDAYS KIDS!!!!! also, i swear to god this was written a month ago, before aaron confirmed the skulls and wizards thing

Taglist: @furblrwurblr @rainningdoom @fluffydmonkey @blondie0458 @sitherin-mxschief @jinxedleo @lawlesshedgehog @einahpetsyarcip @dolphincommander @sorrels-scribbling @anxious-stitcher @alive-and-afraid @animedweeb333 @douxiesdamsel @saroski05 @justarandomhoman @tales-of-hisirdoux @blixeon @yagirlcheesely

It was about as surreal as you thought it would be.

As a child you were trained to fight; to stab, to slice, to claw, and to bleed. You were taught that humans were the root of all evil and that the Gumm-Gumms would one day take what was theirs. Now you were fighting with the humans, the evil, the oppressors, against what had been your home, your people.

And it was going surprisingly well. It turns out having insider knowledge is very helpful on the battlefield. You were able to block everything they threw at you, to dodge and weave through their attacks and land some pretty good hits of your own. Douxie had your back, of course, blue light striking down as many opponents as it could take. In return, you took out anything that even threatened to get too close.

It was going well. But it didn’t last.

“WHERE IS THE WITCH SPY?”

“Oh no.”

“(Y/N), stay behind me,” Douxie’s voice was a dull hum against the roar around you, and of course, the screaming troll in front of you.

“JOIN YOUR BROTHERS AGAINST THIS PATHETIC ARMY!!”

“Oh god.”

Douxie noticed the fact that you weren’t even close to listening to him and took action, moving in front of you, striking any Gumm-Gumm soldier who even looked your way.

“RETURN HOME (Y/N) (L/N)!”

So, that was it. That was what had kept you in the dark as a traitor for at least a hundred years. The very sentence that made you avoid Britain with all your strength. The thing that drove a wedge between you and the man you now loved.

Four words were all it took.

“(Y/N)?? (Y/N), love, please, answer me!”

You jerked your head, snapping back to reality. No matter what events were relevant to your personal history, there was still a battle going on. You had to keep fighting. You struck down another few Gumm-Gumms just as Douxie used some of Archie’s fire to dispose of another, another few.

“Ha, I've always hated those twits!”

“Valid!” you cried as you ducked under an opponent’s strike. You took out their knees, rising again, just in time to see Morgana descend from a sky wormhole. Just what you needed.

“Night has already fallen.”

“Oh, really? Couldn’t tell.”

Douxie rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, but you could see the grin on his face. That boy loved you and all of your shenanigans. You were shaken from your thoughts, however, when Morgana started firing spells into the crowd, yeeting her magic around with reckless abandon.

“Morgana’s returned! She’s enemy number one!”

“Go!” Jim yelled, “We’ll hold the bridge!”

“Hisirdoux, with me! I-You!” oh no, he was talking to you, “I take you in as my apprentice, spare your life from the sword, and this is how you-”

“Master, they didn’t have a choice!” Douxie grabbed your hand, pulling you behind him as if to shield you from Merlin’s wrath, “It was a matter of survival!”

“Survival! What-”

“Please, Master, let them help. If we leave them here, any of the nights might try to attack them!”

“And why should that matter! They are a traitor, are they not? Death on the battlefield is more merciful than anything they might receive after the battle is won.”

“I won’t let anything happen to them,” Douxie’s voice was calm, but you could hear the anger behind it, “(Y/N) has proved their loyalty to me hundreds of times. They’re more than capable and I trust them with my life.”

You broke from your reverie, eyes painted with concern. How could he trust you so easily? Why did he, even after everything that had happened? This shouldn’t have come as such a shock to you. He did love you, after all, and yet, you still found yourself surprised by this revelation. You couldn’t help the hesitant smile that crept onto your face as you squeezed his hand slightly. He really did love you, didn’t he?

Merlin grumbled something, probably regretting that binding spell right about now, before motioning for you to follow him.

You cast a wave back to the kids, a silent wish for their luck, before you ran after Merlin, your hand still entwined with Douxie’s. He didn’t let go until you reached a small group of ruins, at which point you, your wizard and the old man stood, backs facing each other, all of you peered out into the darkness. Archie flew above you, dragon eyes finding nothing out of the ordinary. Not yet, anyway. You kept your sword out in front of you, and you could tell that Douxie was doing the same with his brace. You had no idea what Merlin was doing, but you never did, so that wasn’t a big deal.

“I feel dark magic.”

“It means she’s close.”

You and the familiar both gasped as something ran through the trees. A chill made its way into the woods, surrounding you and raising goosebumps on your skin. You felt your heart begin to race as strange echoes continued to ring out through the air. They soon morphed from a collection of noises into a laugh- Morgana’s.

“An old man, a foolish boy, and a traitor; lost as always.”

Your small group moved slightly, scanning the forest for any sign of the sorceress. You could feel her presence, but there was nothing there.

“Do you dare run… or face my vengeance?”

Oh. There she was.

“Um, is there a third option?” Archie asked, sounding much too calm for the situation at hand. You couldn’t blame him though, you would have done the same. But you weren’t doing the same. You were looking over your shoulder just as a collection of roots shot out at you. Thanks to your little turn, you had an advantage, cutting the offending plant parts before they could get to you. Douxie and Merlin, however, were not so lucky. The latter was pulled to the ground and stabbed through the shoulder with a particularly sharp root. He barked out an order for Hisirdoux to run, which he could not do because of the roots clinging to his shoulders. You used your sword on what you could, and a blast of green energy from Merlin took out the rest. A little anticlimactic if you ask me.

Despite your escape, Morgana cackled, even as Douxie fired spell after spell at her with little success. While he made his attempt, you helped Merlin to a standing position, a task that became easier when Douxie rejoined you at the old wizard’s other side.

“Merlin, you’re injured! Badly… (Y/N), is there anything-”

“Hisirdoux, if I should fall this day…”

Merlin handed his former apprentice a scroll, one which was covered with notes and instructions about building a tomb, and the heart of Avalon. Your brows furrowed as you read over Douxie’s shoulder. That wasn’t ominous at all.

“Why are you giving us this?”

“Foreseeing the future means preparing for the worst of it,” he glared at you for a moment, and you wondered what exactly he could see. He clearly hadn’t seen your act of treason coming, but there were other things that made you wonder. Your thoughts were interrupted by more ominous Merlin content, “That includes your wounded friend.”

“Jim? What about him?”

“The corruption in his heart has no cure. When he returns to the future, it will overtake him.”

Oh. Oh.

Oh no.

You’d had your suspicions, but hearing it from the master wizard himself brought it to another level of reality. There was no cure. There was no solution. You were going to go home, and you were going to kill Douxie. Or you’d try to, at the very least. Maybe, now that Douxie was a master wizard himself, he could do you both a kindness and kill you where you stood.

…

Yeah, no. He wouldn’t be doing that anytime soon, but a witch could dream! You feel his hand on your back, a gesture meant to comfort you that only made you sick. How he still cared about you, even after all of this would confuse you for years to come. For now, though, you just accepted it. There wasn’t time for much else with an evil sorceress on the prowl.

“No, no there must be some other way! I made a promise to them, to Claire, to get them home alive, all of them!”

“Yet, to save time itself, you all must return home, even if it means James Lake will be no more.”

That wasn’t exactly a pleasant thought. While a distance stemming from your past had momentarily sprung up between you and the kids, the gap between you had since closed. You loved those little monsters like they were your siblings, and you’d do anything for them. The thought that Jim would have to die, to make another sacrifice when he’d already given up so much, was just another thing that killed you inside.

“And there’s no other solution?” you tried to keep quiet despite the rage that boiled inside you, not at anyone in particular, but at the situation as a whole, “There’s no way to fix this that doesn’t get Jim killed?”

Merlin shook his head, but you didn’t need that confirmation. You already knew the answer.

“Such is the burden of a wizard,” the old one spoke as your small group made its way deeper into the night, “To make the hard choices mortals cannot,” he grunted, slouching forward slightly, reminding you that you should really take a look at that stab wound at some point. Merlin, however, paid no real mind to this, instead, continuing his little monologue, “Now it is yours to bear.”

You looked away from your wizard companions to see a giant skull, lodged between a rock and… well, another rock. Some may call it a canyon, you called it fucking ominous and terrifying. The skull was lit from within, orange light seeping through the space where eyes had once stared out into the world. You wondered, for a moment, how these old bones had ended up here, and how they had stayed. What was the last thing this being saw? Was it the sky above, or the ground below? What could kill something as large as this? You didn’t ask your questions. It didn’t seem like the right time.

And really, it wasn’t time for anything other than nerves and anxiety. Without a word, you followed Merlin across the rocks until he stood in front of the skull, on top of an odd sort of contraption. You stood a few steps behind, safely off the weird cage thing.

“Morgana, reveal thyself!”

Before you could question the logistics of giving yourselves away, a portal, ringed with gold and made of shadows appeared, releasing the queen of the apocalypse onto another rock. Yep, that sure was an evil sorceress. Just what you needed at this time of night.

“Look what has wandered into my web,” nice starting point. Threatening, but not over the top. You cast your sarcastic thoughts aside for the moment, as valid as they were, preparing yourself instead, for a fight.

“These are dark powers you medal with, Morgana. Who granted them? Who resurrected you from death?”

“Wizards beyond your ken,” ah shit. Just as you suspected. ‘Wizards beyond your ken,’ was mysterious witch for ‘The Arcane Order.’

And then she was gone again. Dope.

“So, uh… we should head into the big skull of doom?” you asked, eyebrows knit together in a mix of concern and confusion.

“Yep, let’s go.” You and Douxie nodded at each other before helping Merlin scale the rocks and get into the skull, asking Archie to stand watch for a moment, just to secure his safety. He agreed only once you’d promised to call him if things got rough.

Inside of the first skull, you found a second, slightly smaller skull. What the hell was it with magic dudes and skulls, huh? Morgana had this as her lair, the Arcane Order’s ship was a skull, Douxie had his whole vibe and Merlin kept skulls in his office. Shit, even you kept bones around, though you were a doctor and arguably had the best excuse. Your thoughts ran wild as you examined the space around you, but they were interrupted by the reappearance of your least favourite murder-witch.

“Morgana!”

The two wizards prepared for battle, but you hesitated. Something was wrong here. Morgana was crying, no-sobbing. You recognized this, whatever this was. You’d seen it in yourself back in the 1300s. Yep, something was wrong alright, and judging by this, someone was probably dead.

“It’s your fault!” She cried, “You’re the reason Arthur is gone!”

Oh, so you were right. That didn’t really explain how Arthur’s blood was on your hands though.

“What?”

“Gone?”

“Uh, guys? It kinda sounds like the King is dead.”

Your companions had no time to respond as Morgana rose through the air, seeking misplaced revenge instead of proper justice. She fired a spell at the three of you, which Douxie ran to shield you from. Merlin joined him a second later, limping towards the younger wizard with your help. The second he stood on his own, your magic joined theirs.

“She’s too powerful! We have no choice but to seal her away!”

“I know. I’ll try to buy some ti-”

Douxie was cut off when Merlin knocked you both clear across the room and out of the way of another spell, one which left the old wizard in chains.

You felt the impact that Douxie suffered and you were sure he felt yours. Nevertheless, the two of you pulled yourselves up just as Morgana started on another speech.

“Oh, shame! Little Douxie finally gets his staff, just in time to die with it!”

She aimed her next attack at him, but you interfered, knocking her away with a shield made of your magic.

“And you! Traitorous little wretch!” you weren’t exactly sure which treason she was talking about or who she learned it from. You’d betrayed a lot of people over the years, she’d have to be more specific, “Why do you still fight alongside them?!”

You knocked away another attack before answering, “The shorter one is cute!” With that, you went on the offensive, landing a kick to Morgana’s stomach and striking her again with the butt of your sword. Your small victory didn’t last long though, as she struck back, the impact slamming you into the opposite wall and probably cracking a few of your ribs. You’d have to apologize to Douxie for that one.

Morgana scoffed at you, looking down at your crumpled figure as you struggled to stand, “Only a fool would fight for love!”

Her voice may have contained a little more rage than was necessary, and she may have been projecting a little bit, but she didn’t have time to say anything else. Douxie handed a few hits with his staff, using surprise to his advantage, and holding up surprisingly well despite the pain you both were in. Morgana turned her taunting onto Douxie, mocking him as they fought.

“You can’t even wield it!” you winced as she landed a hit, “You should stick to your usual tricks.”

You bit your lip as she struck him in the face- twice. This really wasn’t a great day for either of you, was it?

“Use the power of your staff! Make it your own!”

“Please, Douxie.” Your voice was quiet, and there was almost no way he heard it. Hell, you weren’t even sure what you were asking for, but in the next second, his staff turned into a fucking guitar so that was probably it if you had to guess. Or maybe it was the next second when he avenged you by smacking Morgana in the face with said guitar, sending her flying across the room. You knew that as a doctor you shouldn’t hope for someone to crack a rib, but this was an exception you were willing to make.

“What?!”

“BABE! THAT WAS HOT!!” you yelled, too shocked to say much else.

“Bleeding balroths! This is nuclear!” your wizard said, spinning the staff around.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that as you pulled yourself up from the ground. Of all the things Douxie had ever said and done in his life, that had to be the Douxie-est.

“Did you just strike me with a-a lute?!”

“Uh-uh-uh-uh. No, uh-uh. Spellcaster guitar, darling.”

You weren’t exactly sure what the fuck he just said, but you were 110% there for it. He played a lil’ riff on his staff, and you had a very brief mental debate on whether or not that took the throne for the Douxie-est thing he’d ever done.

“Needs tuning though.” He continued to play the riff for a solid minute, and you weren’t sure what was funnier. The fact that this was, in fact, something that was happening, or how Done Merlin looked with literally everything at that moment. It was both. Both was good.

“I meant make it your own weapon!”

Douxie finished playing just in time to shield himself from another of Morgana’s attacks, “Well, this is technically an “axe!”

“You are a huge geek!”

“And you love it!” your wizard yelled, playing again while running from Morgana, looking for an opening while avoiding a volley of spells. He was right. You did love it. That’s why you were going to help at the next opportunity, your (and technically his) poor ribs be damned.

“Hisirdoux! This is no time for dreadful music!”

“Dreadful?”

“Absolutely infernal.”

“I mean, I thought it was good!” you yelled, launching your own round of spells at Morgana, making it harder for her to land a hit on Douxie.

“No worries, this is just the opening track!”

“What do you hope to do? Blow out our eardrums?”

“Well, pardon me if this rock is too freakin’ awesome for your medieval sensibilities!” You had no idea how he did it, but he managed to land on one of the light fixtures (of all things) while you weren’t looking. You couldn’t really see him from where you were, but you were almost certain that he was doing the sign of horns and sticking out his tongue.

“Enough of your noise!” Morgana cried, blasting you to the side quickly before returning to her real fight. You were lucky that this blast was not as strong as her first. You were able to roll out of it without causing any real damage, a benefit to both you and Douxie. Speaking of, your wizard found himself locked in a Harry Potter-style duel, two magics facing off against one another in a single stream. It was not looking too good for your boi though. He seemed to notice this, and jumped from the light and returned to physical combat on the ground. Unfortunately, that did not end well either, and you bit back a cry as Douxie was thrown through the room. Yeah, things were looking rough. Time to call in the cat calvary.

You swore you were only gone for a moment, but in that time, Douxie managed to get himself pinned against a wall.

“Do not fret, Merlin. You’ll find a new apprentice to replace him. Are people not dispensable, after all?”

“Ok, go, go now!” you whispered to Archie, your tone intense, which was fair considering the situation. The familiar did as told and flew at the witch, sending her fling off balance and keeping her away from Douxie. Arch did a quick loop near Merlin, tossing the wizard his staff before circling around to land on Douxie’s shoulder. Merlin and Morgana began their fight as you ran to your wizard and his familiar.

“Nice work my dudes, you think you can keep it up?”

“Probably! Arch, light me!” you liked the sound of that. You liked the sight of it even more as blue flames encircled Morgana, trapping her, and allowing Douxie and Archie to make their final attack, keeping the sorceress in place.

“Hurry, I can’t hold her that long!”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got this,” you said, voice quiet as you threw your own spell at the witch from below. Hopefully, that would make things a little easier. It did. Douxie was grateful.

“You have lost yourself, Morgana! Bound to dark magic. I have no choice but to seal you away! Sigilia infractum!”

It seemed to work for a second, but then, for like, the third (?) time in that battle you were blasted back, Douxie fell with you and hit the ground harder.

“Man, this sucks,” you whispered as you pulled yourselves up, going to Merlin’s aid.

“Master!”

“She’s too powerful,” he groaned, “You have to finish this, together.”

“We can do that… we can do that! Let’s go!”

You and Douxie moved in sync, matching each other’s movements exactly. Using his staff, Douxie’s blue magic replaced Merlin’s green while yours froze the witch again, keeping her from attacking you.

“Sigilia infractum causera!”

Finally, the blast from the spell did not hurt you, instead, it did as it was supposed to, trapping Morgana. You let your own spell ease up, instead, lending whatever strength you could to Douxie, God knows he would need it.

“I will destroy you all! No matter what it takes, no matter where you go, I will end all that you love until you feel my agony!”

“Yeah, you aren’t the first person to threaten that! Come up with something original, then we’ll talk.”

The witch roared and threw a spell in your direction, but it disappeared into a shadow edged with purple.

“Hey! Hands off my teachers!”

Oh, Claire! Claire had found you somehow, that was good.

“I swear on all your lives, I shall rise again!”

“Already seen it,” the girl cried, throwing some much-deserved sass Morgana's way, “You don’t win. See you in 900 years!”

And with that, the spell was complete. Claire opened another portal, dragging Morgana into it. With that big historical event over, your adrenaline failed you and you staggered forward. That was pretty convenient considering it let you catch Douxie, who was doing much worse than you were. You noticed his eyes rolling back slightly, which was a cause for some alarm.

“Hey, heyheyheyheyhey, stay with us, you nerd, don’t pass out on me,” you weren’t sure you could handle the stress if he did.

“Douxie! Are you okay?!” Archie and Claire moved in, the former knocking Douxie back and licking his face relentlessly.

“Ugh! That’s-that’s disgusting!”

You and Claire both laughed at this, glad that at least this part of the fight was finally over. Douxie stole a glance at you and wondered if he had somehow died during the battle. How else could there be an angel before him?

“Well,” he turned his gaze from your smile to Claire with only minor difficulties, “I think we just saved history.”

You sat back, all fears forgotten for now in a moment of relief and elation as you watched your boyfriend give the girl a high-five.

“And you took down a ninth-level sorceress.”

“Damn right,” you giggled, which was new, but not unwelcome. You turned to Douxie, “Sharp work, samurai.” Your friends rolled their eyes at your antics, though they did it out of love.

The excitement calmed for a moment, allowing Archie to speak, “Merlin would be proud.”

“Yeah, if he wasn’t out cold.”

“I mean, it’s not a great look for him, but full transparency? I could probably take a three-hundred-year nap right now.”

Douxie laughed, but he wrapped a hand around yours and whispered, “Please don’t.”

You squeezed his hand, a silent promise that you would not answer your problems with sleep. Not today, anyway. To be completely honest, the problem immediately at hand could be solved rather quickly, by you, at least.

“Anyway, Merlin’s still been stabbed, so I’ll just-”

Fortunately, this was just a stab wound. No magic, no tricks, no possession, just medicine. That was what you knew, it was what you could deal with. It was over too quickly. Was that a thing you could say? Could you wish for medical treatment to last longer? Was that something you could do? Not to mention that he was your boyfriend’s surrogate dad, which just made things complicated. Either way, it was over too fast. You returned to Camelot, mourned the dead, said your goodbyes, and that was it. Time was up. You had to go home.

Home. What even was home now? You knew the answer. Home was Douxie. Wherever he was, you wanted to be. He made you feel safe, feel loved, feel every good thing that humans are supposed to feel, but- To save the world, to save his life, you would have to leave him. There was no other choice, either you stayed in the past and everyone died, or you went back to the future and risked his life by staying with him. You had to go. As soon as you got back, you’d have to run. You didn’t know where, to-to Spain, or Japan, or Cuba, Vietnam, Egypt, France, somewhere, anywhere, just to keep him safe. You didn’t want to do it. You just wanted to stay by his side, forever, if possible. But that was the thing. It wasn’t possible. And that broke your heart.

And if possible, these gosh darn kids were going to break you even more.

“Everybody, ready yourselves. We don’t have much time. I’ll dial us in for when we left.”

“But what’s gonna happen when we get there? The danger we escaped, it’ll be waiting for us. And Jim’s still hurt.”

You bit your lip as you and Douxie approached Jim and Claire. You really didn’t want to be the one who had to say this. You didn’t want to be around when she heard the news. Shit, you didn’t even want it to be news. You just wanted your kids to be happy, and to not kill your boyfriend, and to live for once. Maybe fate just didn’t like you.

“Claire, about that… Jim is-”

“Ready to face the inevitable,” Jim held out a hand to stop you.

“Jim, are you sure?” Douxie asked while you maintained your silence. You were pretty sure if you said anything you’d lose your composure.

“Jim?” Oh God, and now Claire was going to find out how screwed you still were. This was gonna suck.

“Claire, the shard in- There is no cure. That’s what Merlin told me earlier.”

You winced at the horror on the young girl’s face. She didn’t deserve this. Neither of them did.

“That’s crazy! We can find something! I’ll learn a spell, we can stay here!”

“If we don’t all go back right now, the future won’t exist. What kind of hero would I be if I sacrificed everyone else? Not to be ironic, but we’re out of time.”

“No! Douxie, (Y/N), tell him! We can fix this! You can fix this!”

You brought your hand up to hide your eyes from the sorceress. She was right, you should have been able to fix this, and tears wouldn’t solve anything. Your only solution was running away, and Jim- oh God, Jim. See, it was things like this that made you start drinking in the twenties.

“I’m sorry, Claire. He’s right. We must go back now, but when we do, we’ll find a way to reverse this,” he stole a glance back at you, and your distraught state only drove him further. He had to do this, to fix things when you got home. He owed all of you that much, “I promised I would return you home, and I am, but the portal can only stay open for a few moments. This is our one shot. Trust me.”

A moment later, he joined you at the base of the ship before taking your hand and leading you onto it.

“We’ll fix this,” he promised, his voice low so only you could hear, “Together. We’ll go home to the future, and we’ll fix this, and then-” your eyes met his as he paused, “And then, maybe, we could start our future.”

Despite the tears that threatened to fall, you smiled ever so slightly, “We’ll build a new one if we have to.”

It wasn’t until his lips met yours that you started crying. It wasn’t his fault it was just- fuck you would miss this. You smiled again as you pulled apart, though the tears hadn’t stopped. It was for his sake, really. Under normal circumstances, you might pretend that everything was fine, but for just one second, you wanted to believe it.

“I love you,” your voice shook, and you hated it.

“I love you, too,” his voice was strong, yet tired. And you loved it.

You pushed a small smile onto your face, trying to cast the illusion that you were okay, and that everything was okay, and that no one would die when you returned. Your attempts were quickly halted by a sting on your cheek. That came from him, you realized, as you noticed a thin cut that ran across his cheekbone. You ran your thumb over it, his skin patching together and healing under your hand. At least you could still do that one thing. Sure, you were a traitorous assassin, but by god could you heal a small cut.

Douxie smiled, his grin seeming more natural than yours. He kissed you one last time before letting you go and taking the time map. You watched him, not saying a word as he said something under his breath and activated the map and the heart. A beam of light lit the night sky green, going on for a moment until it formed a portal. You could almost see your time on the other side. That was it. That was how you would get back to the future. Yay.

It was weird. You’d known Douxie for so long, and hated him for most of that time, but now? Now you were dreading going back to your time, going back to general safety because it meant that he would die. It was just odd to think that there was a time where you would have wished for this, for a chance to kill him and avoid the blame. If you wished for anything now, it would be another way out.

You followed Douxie onto Merlin’s airship and walked past him, standing as far away as you could. You didn’t know what would happen when you crossed that barrier. You might try to murder him instantly, you might be able to control yourself, you might be able to fight off your curse entirely. The point is, you didn’t know, and distance was the best solution. So, you stood alone and stared off into the night as the ship moved off towards the portal until Steve’s ramblings returned your attention to your friends.

“Man, Camelot was crazy! Why don’t they ever talk about that in the history books?”

Douxie gave the blond kid a pat on the shoulder, and you watched as Steve headed towards the front of the ship where Jim and Claire stood. The girl was looking back towards you, but you couldn’t meet her eyes. Her boyfriend was doomed, and there was nothing you could do about it. And you would have done anything. For those kids, you’d give your own life in a heartbeat, but that wasn’t an option. Not now, not yet. Douxie, however, met her eyes, though only for a moment. You didn’t have to hear him to know what he was thinking.

“My burden to bear.”

And with those final words, the world turned green, and you were gone.

#hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux imagine #almost a thousand years #aaty #angst #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #toa douxie #toa hisirdoux

82 notes · View notes

the-hilda-librarians-wife · 3 years

Text

No Mistletoe Above Our Heads

Summary: It’s the day of the Trolberg Winter Festival, and Matilda Pilkfist invites all her favorite people to her house to celebrate. Two of her guests, however, seem more interested in each other than anything elseContains spoilers for season 2

Notes: Did you know that legally you can post Christmas fics until the New Year? It’s right there in the constitution, I swear Jokes aside, I had two holiday fic ideas and only time to write one in time for Xmas and... that established relationship one won. Which, of course, didn’t stop me from wanting to do this one as well. Anyways this is set one year after the Trolberg Winter Festival that we see on season 2. Since we don’t know how much Johanna will know after the whole Troll business is over, I’m just making things up here.

Read it on ao3

The doorbell rang just in time for Kaisa to finish setting up the table, all the cutlery neatly in place.

“Oh, it’s the rest of our guests!” Tildy chirped. “You dears wait right here, I’ll go get them.”

Standing near Tildy’s table, the two of them watched the older woman walk to her front hall to open the door. There was a very strong scent of cinnamon in the air - Tildy had probably forgotten something in the oven.

“Do you know the other people she called?” Mr. Ostenfeld asked her, making her shrug.

‘Sort of. I’ve talked to the kids before. They’re okay.” Although she’d grown very fond of the children in the year she’d known them, spending the Winter Festival socializing with them was not a situation she was entirely comfortable with. She was sure she’d just be a wallflower and make them all feel like they needed to include her in their conversation for the sake of good manners, but her old mentor had insisted on her attending the dinner, so she’d given in. It wasn’t like she had any better plans for the evening, anyway, and she felt like she owned it to Tildy after spending years avoiding her.

“Frida, how delightful to see you!” They heard Matilda say from the doorway, and figured they should get closer to greet the guests as well. “And I’m so glad you two could come too!”

Behind Frida, there were two adults who resembled her a lot. Tildy let them in and pointed at them. “This is Peter, my boyfriend, and Kaisa. I used to be her English tutor as well!”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Mr. Ostenfeld said as Kaisa shook their hands. She had been warned, of course, that the adults didn’t know about the magic yet, but it still struck her as amusing to see arch-sorceress Matilda Pilkfist describe herself as an English tutor. She also wondered how her mentor was planning on explaining the skull on her wall, or the painting of witches around a fire, not to mention her hand mannequin for palmistry practice. Maybe she thought everyone had those things at home, that would be a very Tildy-like way of thinking.

After greeting Frida and her family, Kaisa brought her attention back to the other guests. She knew Frida’s familiar had also been invited. Tildy seemed to have taken a strong liking to her as well. What she hadn’t been expecting was to already know the adult who had come in with her.

Well, maybe know was too strong of a word. But she’d already met the woman at the library, where sometimes she’d go to look for inspiration for her work and Kaisa would help her, and sometimes they’d see each other around the city and wave. Still, it was enough for a noticeable spark of recognition to be lit on her brown eyes, even if she wasn’t the one who spoke first.

“Good evening!” Hilda greeted her happily. “It’s very nice to see you here!”

“Good evening, Hilda. How are you doing tonight?”

Seemingly unaware of how Kaisa’s gaze was straying to her mother behind her, the girl smiled. “Great! We just came from the bloom, it was so beautiful!”

“I agree. I was there long enough to see it, those flowers seem to get more beautiful every year.”

Though Hilda looked like she was going to agree, Mr. Ostenfeld approached them before she could say anything.

“Ah, so you two were invited! How lovely! Looks like you have already met my neighbors, eh Kaisa?”

“Good evening, Mr. Ostenfeld!” Mother and daughter said at the same time. Only now Kaisa realized that Johanna seemed to be trying to sneak glances at her as well.

“I already know Kaisa.” Hilda explained. “I don’t think mum does, though.”

With her hand on her hips, the woman rolled her eyes playfully. “Hilda, I’m not illiterate. I’ve already met Kaisa at the library.”

Hilda’s mouth formed a perfect “o” shape, her eyes widening only slightly. It seemed like an odd thing for her to realize her mother had a life beyond what they did together.

“It’s good to finally see you in a more social setting, Kaisa.” She said, raising her hand for the librarian to shake.

"Likewise." The woman’s grip was warm and soft, and something in Kaisa didn’t want to let go. “I don’t think I ever got your name.”

“Johanna.” The woman smiled. Perhaps the night wouldn’t be a waste after all.

_#_#_#_

Johanna never thought she’d be so glad to see the librarian.

When Hilda told her they’d been invited to Frida’s English Tutor’s Winter Festival dinner, she’d been skeptical at best. Not because she didn’t trust the woman, not even out of unwillingness to spend the Festival in a way so different from how she used to when she was younger, but because she knew Hilda would leave her alone, and she couldn’t blame her.

Being with her friend meant the girl would probably run off to somewhere private to talk to her alone, and Johanna would left to… mingle with the adults, something she didn’t quite know if she would manage. Her daughter had thought she had wanted her to make human friends for the sake of being normal. Truth be told, what she really wanted was for Hilda to have more social skills than she did when she grew up.

Her prediction had been proven true. The girls had gone to some other room in Matilda’s house at her invitation, and the rest of them had moved to a sitting room, where they sat down on the couches in pairs: the host and her boyfriend, Frida’s parents, and the party’s two outcasts, which had been left to sit together.

Kaisa seemed to realize they were the odd ones out - the only ones who weren’t there as a couple and who weren’t quite close to nearly anyone - at the same time Johanna did, and they smiled sympathetically at each other as they sat down on the bright red sofa.

Neither of them added much to the conversation; Tildy was able to carry it with her usual brightness and Frida’s parents seemed to be interested in adding their opinions as well, especially when the topic was their daughter’s incredible willingness to learn.

Not particularly interested in the dialogue, Kaisa let her mind wander elsewhere, until she felt Johanna tense up beside her. They weren’t close enough for her to physically feel it, but sensing her energy was enough for Kaisa to pick up something was wrong. She blinked and tried to remember the sentence that had just been spoken.

“It brings us a lot of pride.” Frida’s father had said, which made Kaisa assume the conversation still had been centered around Frida. “But it must be quite hard to have a trouble maker for a child, isn’t it? I imagine you’ve tried everything at this point to get Hilda to behave, and I should have expected Frida to have had a bigger impact on her, being the positive influence that she is.”

Johanna swallowed, and Kaisa could tell from the way her fist clenched on the hem of her sweater that she knew exactly what to answer, just as well as she knew she’d be beyond rude if she said what she wanted to.

“I don’t see what you mean.” As though they had forgotten she was there, and she wouldn’t be shocked if they had, all eyes turned to Kaisa with surprise in them. The only exception was Tildy, who had her typical knowing smirk on. “I’ve had plenty of opportunities to watch Hilda’s behavior, since she visits the library a lot, not once has she done anything that would have me describe her as a trouble maker. And trust me, I have seen some difficult children in my job.”

Looking quite flustered, the man tried to reverse the situation. “Well, surely you’ll agree-“

“There’s the basic, of course.” Kaisa didn’t let him finish. “She never yells or misplaces books, or returns them late. But even when she takes some actions that I suppose could be considered… off route, never has anyone been put in harm’s way by her that I know of, and all her actions are inspired by selflessness. Intelligence doesn’t only mean one thing, and I can assure you the girl is as smart as she is brave. It’s a shame not everyone can recognize it.”

Pleased when both parents looked properly chastened, Kaisa sat back against the couch and pretended to have stopped caring about the conversation again. Oh, if only those two knew the sort of thing their own child got involved with. She’d very much like to see their faces when they found out.

“I agree completely.” Said Peter from the other side of the room. “Never met anyone with better intentions.”

Tildy nodded at her boyfriend, even though her eyes seemed to stray away to the direction of the couch where Johanna and Kaisa were sitting. “Yes, she’s got a heart of gold, that one.”

Only when Kaisa glanced at Frida’s parents, wanting to see how they would look while trying to explain themselves, did she notice that Johanna was not looking at her daughter’s defensors, but rather at her. Her lips parted in a silent gasp when she saw her mouthing a ‘thank you’ to her.

Ignoring Frida’s mother’s fumbled speech as she tried to talk about the “value the school system gives to different learning types”, Kaisa whispered back at Johanna. “Want to get away?”

Though there was no clear answer from her part, no nod or smile, Kaisa didn’t miss the way her eyes lit up and her back straightened at the prospect.

“This is certainly a fascinating topic.” Kaisa blurted as she stood up, well aware that the sarcasm was showing in her voice. “But is it just me or is there something burning?”

Tildy sniffed the air and widened her eyes. Kaisa hadn’t even had to make anything up, something was burning.

“My korvapuusti!” Tildy gasped, but before she could move further, Kaisa gestured for her to remain seated.

“Don’t worry, I can see to it. Though I’m not much of a cook, so maybe Johanna should come with me.” She raised an eyebrow to the woman, expecting her to understand the cue she was trying to create at the same time she knew she was free to refuse it. “Hilda has already brought me some cookies you made, so I know you are skilled.”

“Of course.” Hoping she hadn’t been too quick to answer, Johanna got up and adjusted the hem of her sweater, sneaking a glance at Kaisa, who seemed to be as anxious to get out of there as her.

A dawning realization seemed to slowly replace the worry in Tildy’s face, and she smiled. “How sweet of the two of you to help this old woman. Thank you, dears.”

Kaisa nodded and went back to the entrance hall they’d been at some minutes ago, and Johanna fell in step beside her as she made her way through the house. She seemed to know where she was going, so Johanna didn’t question it, even as she spotted some frankly bizarre details in the house. Something about the way herb jars and crystals adorned nearly every surface was eerie, yet not unpleasant to her. And surely she was imagining the way the portaits’s eyes seemed to follow them.

“Thanks for that.” Johanna said when she had to do a little sprint to catch up with the librarian, a decoration that very much looked like a serpent with horns having had caught her attention. Kaisa slowed down her pace.

“Don’t think about it. There is something burning, anyway, and you very much are more more apt to deal than this than I am.”

“Oh, not that, though I am very grateful for the excuse to go away for a bit.” The lighting in that part of the house was significantly dimmer, somewhy being composed basically of candle light, and for a second Johanna was distracted by how their warm glow and the shadows they cast accentuated the sharp angles in Kaisa’s features. It was probably just the artist side of her showing. “I mean for defending Hilda like that. It’s good to know you have such a positive view of her and… I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t spoken up first.”

Kaisa smiled. This was something Johanna didn’t think she’d seen her do any time before that night. It had always been a certainty in her mind, though she didn’t know why, that the mysterious librarian didn’t show who she really was in the library. Now she wondered if she’d finally get to see more of Kaisa’s hidden side since they were behind closed doors.

“You would have been fine.” Thankful for the weak lighting hiding her blush, Kaisa answered. “At worst you would have told them what they need to hear.”

“That their daughter is going to develop one hell of a failure anxiety if they keep this up?”

“That she already has and Hilda is the positive influence that keeps her grounded. Those two really do a lot of good to each other, it’s a lovely friendship to watch.”

Kaisa opened a door and flicked the light switch up, making them both blink a few times since their eyes had adapted to relative darkness. The scent of burnt cinnamon and cardamom was much stronger there, and Johanna quickly spotted the oven and ran to it.

“You seem to know quite a lot about the children.” Johanna pointed out as Kaisa grabbed an oven mitt from the overhead shelf and handed it to her. Carefully, she opened the oven and was struck by a cloud of smoke and heat, holding herself back not to cough as she reached inside and pulled out the tray with the sweets on it. The cinnamon rolls were certainly a lot darker than they ought to be.

Kaisa waved her hand in the air, trying to make the smoke and the strong smell of burnt food fade, and with her other hand she gestured for Johanna to put the tray on an empty place on the counter.

“I don’t go out much.” She admitted half unwillingly. Admitting her lack of social life probably was not the best course of action to take if she wanted Johanna to be interested in befriending her, but she'd certainly figure it out in no time, anyway. “So when I notice recurring patrons that don’t irk me, I usually pay attention to them.”

“Pay attention?” Johanna asked as she tried to figure out how to turn off Matilda’s prehistoric oven before they both choked to death.

With a fork, Kaisa attempted to examine whether or not the confections were still salvageable. At first when she couldn’t poke inside, she thought maybe the crust of sugar and cinnamon had just gotten too thick, but when it broke with an audible crack before yielding she knew they were lost.

“I’m not-” She crossed her arms over her chest, biting her lower lip as she wondered if it was a good idea to answer that question truthfully. Due precisely to not having many friends, Kaisa knew she tended to overshare when people would listen to her, and it just made them go away. But there was something in the way Johanna looked at her that made her believe she genuinely wanted to know. “I’m not really good at talking to people. I seem to be the kind of person that is more interesting when watched from afar, anyway. So I tend to pay attention to visitors, as a hobby I suppose. You can tell a lot by people-watching.”

Johanna took off the mits and gave them back to Kaisa for her to put them in their proper place, and gave her a small nod as a sign to go on.

“I probably wouldn’t know this much about them, but curious as they are the children began to… talk to me.” Kaisa said. It wasn’t quite a lie, but she was sure the story would make much more sense to Johanna if she could mention the Committee and the magic. Though perhaps that was for the better, since that would also mean admitting to taking her daughter through a magical maze, not to mention the ghost situation and the tide mice incident. She highly doubted that Johanna would appreciate it. “And I suppose we just got along. They’re very sweet kids, the three of them, and their curiosity brings them to the library quite often.”

Rather than being disturbed by some of her closest bonds being with children she had no family ties to, Johanna smiled like she understood.

“They really are lovely.” With great difficulty, Johanna managed to unstick one of the sweets from the tray. “It’s a shame I don’t get to talk much to Frida and David, though. Hilda usually doesn’t want her mother bothering her friends. I guess it’s just signs of pre-teenagehood showing up.”

After bringing the korvapuusti to her nose and sniffing it, Johanna had to do her best to hide a grimace at the smell. “Oh, goodness, I hope Matilda doesn’t get too upset about not serving dessert.”

“Eh, she’s probably done another batch earlier.” Kaisa said as a way of hiding the fact that Tildy would probably use a revitalization spell and serve them anyway. Currently, the librarian was more interested in something else she’d just spotted on the counter.

It was a small jar, not much bigger than a glass of water and filled to the brim with a cream coloured paste. She grabbed it so fast that Johanna blinked with surprise, and thought for a moment that she was trying to hide something.

“Tildy made condensed milk!” Kaisa chirped, sounding very much like an excited child as she opened one of the drawers and took out two tablespoons. “I mean, of course she did. She always puts it on the table when she makes korvapuusti in case anyone wants to add it on top, but she made so much this time! How lucky.”

As Kaisa scooped a spoonful of the viscous substance, Johanna bit back a smirk. If people truly did think Kaisa’s uncensored self wasn’t as interesting as the image she first showed them was, the woman would have to disagree strongly. Every time she’d seen the librarian in her work place, Kaisa had set in her the desire to get to know her better, and now that she was seeing beneath the mystery and the quietness, nothing changed; if anything, Johanna was even more intrigued. In her mind, she compared her to a good brownie: once you got past the crispy crust it was warm and soft inside, and both parts were just as good.

“You seem very close to her as well.” Johanna pointed out. “Between her and the children, you’re probably better off in the friend department than I am.”

Kaisa stopped scooping a second spoon to look at her, her brow furrowed. “Really? You look like a very popular person.”

Flattered, Johanna chuckled. “What makes you say that?”

“You’re nice.” Kaisa shrugged. “Nice people usually have a lot of friends.”

“Well, I’m glad that’s how I come across. But I’m afraid I don’t really have any friends. None human, at least.”

Johanna looked away and cringed. Great way to get people to like you, she told herself. Make them see how weird you are. It was ironic, really. She’d insisted so much on Hilda making some human friends, and in the end she was the one drinking her afternoon tea with a nisse. If Kaisa had thought she was nice rather than odd, like most people did, it wouldn’t last if she continued talking so freely.

There was no judgement, not even surprise, when she looked back at Kaisa’s face, though. She looked like she thought that what Johanna was saying made perfect sense.

“Now you have one.” She had set down the jar again and was raising one of the spoons up for Johanna to take. “If I might call myself that, I mean.”

“Oh.” Johanna smilled, a cool sensation of butterflies in her belly making her fidget with the hem of her sweater. “Yes, of course. I’d love to be your friend!”

Kaisa’s grin widened, and Johanna spent a second thinking about how beautiful the dark lipstick shade she was wearing looked on her before realizing she was still waiting for her to take the spoon.

“Oh.” Johanna gasped again, mentally kicking herself from fumbling over her words so much. She wasn’t normally like this, but Kaisa had no way of knowing this and would probably think her a complete fool before the night was over. “Shouldn’t we wait until after dinner?”

“What’s the harm? Hilda isn’t here, you know? You don’t have to set a good exemple.” Kaisa said even as lowered the spoon, as if to show that she wouldn’t pressure her to do it. However, the argument seemed to have been a good one, because as soon as she brought her own spoon to her lips to taste the condensed milk, Johanna gave in and picked up hers.

“This is really good!” Johanna said regardless of thinking that it was maybe a bit too sweet for her to be able to eat a whole spoonful of it. Kaisa didn’t seem to be having any problems with it, though, and she didn’t want to let her new friend down.

Kaisa leaned her back against the counter, pleased Johanna seemed to have liked it. Figuring it would probably be inappropriate if she kept watching her as she licked the condensed milk out of the spoon, which she firmly told herself she’d only been doing because she wanted to catch her reaction, Kaisa ran her eyes around the kitchen as she concentrated on her early dessert. Until, that was, her attention was caught by something on the doorframe.

“Did Tildy seriously put mistletoe in the kitchen?” She sighed, more to herself than to Johanna.

“Not fond of them?” Johanna asked with her gaze also focused on the bundle of green leaves and pearly white berries.

“I’ve no ill will towards them.” Kaisa ate the last of what was left on her spoon and wondered if it was worth it to wash it and get some more condensed milk. “I just feel like it can be a really stupid tradition. Can’t be pleasant to be under the mistletoe with someone you don’t like.”

“Yes, it must be uncomfortable.” While she answered, Johanna turned to face Kaisa, who was washing the spoon in order to put it back inside the drawer, figuring out Tildy would notice if too much of the condensed milk was gone. Realizing Kaisa had some of it in the corner of her mouth, anything else she might have said was snatched out of her tongue as the sudden thought that it truly was a pity that Kaisa didn’t appreciate that tradition popped in her mind. Embarrassed, she shook her head as if to expel that notion, and put the spoon in her mouth to finish eating as well. “I wonder where on earth it came from. Sounds random to say the least.”

Kaisa hummed in agreement, and though Kaisa offered to wash Johanna’s spoon as well, she insisted on cleaning up after herself. After they were both done, they decided they’d probably been away for longer than socially acceptable. It was probably already time for dinner, at that point.

As they retraced their steps, however, the two women stopped in front of the first door frame after the kitchen's, staring at the same thing for the same reason.

“Curious.” Johanna hummed. “I don’t remember that mistletoe being there.”

It escaped Johanna’s notice, but not Kaisa’s, that there was something out of the ordinary with the sprig. After a few seconds of watching it, a glittering speck of green dust fell from it, floating all the way to the ground. The witch’s shoulders hunched forward like they tended to do when she was annoyed. An illusion spell.

“I don’t think they were here before.” She hissed through clenched teeth, low enough for Johanna to not hear it. Every other room they passed by was the same: a small mistletoe where before there had been none.

“It was probably the weak lighting.” Johanna said as they passed by their fifth mistletoe, although she failed to convince even herself with that explanation. Kaisa might not have noticed it since she had just been looking forward to where they had been going, but Johanna had been paying very close attention to her surroundings. Maybe that house’s nisse had decided to add some decoration?

Kaisa did her best to smile and say “Yes, it probably was.”, knowing it must have looked way more like a growl. Right when they arrived back at the sitting room, her suspicions were confirmed. Not only did Tildy have her hand inside the pocket where she kept her wand, but also the look of curiosity she gave them when they came back spoke louder than any words.

“You’re back! We were just waiting for you to go to the table.” Tildy chirped, looking deep inside Kaisa’s eyes, looking for something.

“Someone better go call the children, then.”

Tildy looked away at Kaisa’s unwavering answer. Whatever she’d been looking for, and the librarian thought she had a pretty good idea of what it was, she hadn’t found it.

“And the korvapuusti?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to use your extra batch.”

“Oh, well.” She got up with her boyfriend's aid. “There’s always next time, isn’t there.”

Something led Kaisa to believe she was not talking about the confections.

_#_#_#_

“It was great to spend some time with you, Kaisa!”

The librarian tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, hoping she didn’t look too happy to be hearing that.

“Likewise, Johanna.”

Would asking to see her again be too much? It probably would, but she could think of nothing else to say. They just stood perfectly still as they looked at each other, the cold from the night outside creeping into the house through the open door behind Johanna. Holding her mother’s hand, Hilda glanced back and forth at both of them with a curious frown.

“I guess I’ll see you at the library, then?” Johanna said at last, and Kaisa nodded.

“Yes. That’s… that’s where I’ll be.”

“Well, happy Bloom again! And good night.” At this point, Hilda was already trying to subtly drag her mother away. For someone who always complained about the Woodman leaving the door open, she thought Johanna really should pay more attention to that sort of thing.

“Good night to the two of you.” Said Kaisa. Finally happy that Johanna had began moving out, Hilda smiled and waved at the witch.

“Bye bye, Kaisa! See you when I see you!”

When the door was closed at last, and Kaisa was the only guest left (it didn’t matter that she was one of the strongest witches alive, Kaisa would feel bad if she left an elderly lady to clean up everything alone), Tildy surreptitiously crept up by her side.

“Did you at least get her number?” Tildy asked with a sigh, which made her former apprentice remember why exactly she’d been mad at her.

“Tildy.” Kaisa groaned, putting her hands on her waist. “I know you mean well, but you’re going a little too far. I barely even know Johanna and you’re already conjuring mistletoes around the house?!”

Saying that, she pointed to the spot one of the sprigs had been just a few minutes before, even though there was nothing there at that moment. The woman giggled, kneeling down with some difficulty to pick her familiar up when it walked to her.

“Oh, but I’ve a good eye for this sort of thing!” She defended herself cheerfully as she petted that thing she called a familiar. Kaisa had never seen eye to eye with it. It had a tendency of eating her books which hadn’t faded with time. “I saw some sparks flying and I decided to help along! Such a shame you didn’t grab the chance.”

Kaisa pinched the bridge of her nose. Sometimes she wondered if age was beginning to get the best of her old mentor. “Okay, fine, I think she’s cute. You’ve always been able to tell how I feel and I won’t deny it. But we both know close to nothing about her! She doesn’t even like mistletoes-”

“This younger generation.” Tildy scoffed, interrupting her. “So unromantic.”

“And even if her feelings were reciprocal.” Kaisa continued with a glare, figuring it was better to pretend she hadn’t heard that. No matter how old Kaisa got, she was always part of the ‘younger generation’ in Tildy’s eyes. ��We’ve just properly met! “that’s way too forward and you know it, so don’t try to blame me for not making a move in the first five seconds of knowing someone.”

“Oh, Kaisa.” The sorceress sighed as she began walking away to the kitchen, so they both could start and finish their washing as soon as possible. “No need to get so defensive. I was only trying to help you, but I apologize if it made you uncomfortable in any way. However, as someone who wants nothing but your happiness, I need to ask you to reach out to that woman as soon as possible.”

Kaisa hugged her arms around her torso. Somewhy that idea was enough to make her afraid, even if she couldn’t tell what of. “It’s okay, Tildy. You don’t have to apologize, but I think I’ll wait until Johanna goes to the library again. We can talk a bit and… and then when she visits it again it won’t be weird to try and arrange another meeting somewhere else.”

Tildy stopped right in front of the sink and narrowed her eyes at Kaisa. “Were you not listening?”

“I was, but-“

“No buts!” She exclaimed, throwing a towel at Kaisa. Whether she wanted her to do the drying or she was just exasperated and wanted to throw something at her, she didn’t know. “Do you know why I’m dating Peter?”

“Hopefully because you love him?” Kaisa answered, somewhat stunned at the sudden change in topic.

“Very funny, aren’t you.” Opening the sink to begin her washing, Tildy snickered. “I mean, why am I dating him instead of already being married to him? I did already tell you we met when we were young.”

“Because you’re both broke and can’t take a loan since the bank doesn't like you.” Kaisa joked, which resulted in Tildy shaking her weat hand on her direction to send a couple of drops of water at her. Laughing as her she shielded her face from the water, she quickly added. “I’m kidding! It’s because you two didn’t talk for very long.”

Tildy nodded as she went back to washing. There was something sad in her eyes, and anyone else might have missed it. Kaisa, however, had spent too much time with her, had shared too many conquests and downfalls with this woman to not be able to pick it up.

“We met one night and fell in love almost instantly. But we knew nothing of each other… I spent my life hoping he’d find me, and he spent his life not being able to because he didn’t know how. He spent his life regretting not having asked me out on that first night. Do you see what I’m trying to tell you?”

“Be grateful Johanna knows where I work and for modern technology?”

Tildy gave her a glare that made her sure that if looks could kill, she’d need a spot at Guglow’s. Even her familiar, who had moved to lie atop of her head, seemed to be staring at her with impatience, and Kaisa sighed in defeat.

“I understand the lesson, Tildy. And even though I don’t really agree in this ‘love at first sight’ talk and your extreme carpe diem mentality, I’ll… try to do something. So as not to become a target for your crossbow practice, if anything.”

Finally pleased, Tildy smiled.

“Smart girl!”

_#_#_#_

“Hey, mum, what are you doing?”

Slouched over a cookbook in her bedroom, Johanna hadn’t even heard it when Hilda opened the door. Her daughter sat near her on the bed and tried to take a peak at what she was reading.

“I’m trying to find any condensed milk recipes in our old recipe book.” She explained, though she knew that at that point she all but had that book’s contents memorized. “Kaisa seems to like it a lot… she was very kind to both of us at the party, I wanted to make her something as a late winter festival gift, even if it’s just a batch of cookies.”

“Sounds like a good idea. You could take the chance and ask if she has any recipes she’d prefer.”

Finally Johanna dragged her eyes away from the book, and noticed Hilda had a sly smile on. “What do you mean?”

“The doorbell rang, remember? She’s at the door.”

“What?!” Johanna jumped from the bed, wondering how Kaisa knew where she lived before remembering she could have gotten the address from the library records, or from Frida, Matilda, and even from Hilda herself. Before leaving the room, she glanced at the mirror to check her appearance, which made Hilda lift an eyebrow.

She was sure she wasn’t imagining the blush on the librarian’s face when she opened the door, but she was more worried about the fact that she probably had one of her own.

“I wonder where it came from.” Kaisa quoted Johanna’s words from the night before, from when they’d seen the first mistletoe on the kitchen’s doorway, and bit back a grimace when she realized she’d forgotten to say “good afternoon”. There was no coming back from that, so she continued. “That’s what you said about the mistletoe’s tradition yesterday. I, ah, got curious. So I did some research and found out it actually comes from mythology. And biology. The biology of the plant mattered too, you see.”

There was a beat of silence in which Johanna just blinked at her, and Kaisa was afraid she’d slam the door on her face for turning up in her house out of the blue to talk about mistletoe lore the day after a holiday. Instead, she opened a grin.

“That sounds fascinating!” Johanna said, feeling her heart pick up pace. Not only had Kaisa truly listened to what she said, but she’d had the mind to look for answers and to come all the way to her house to tell her what she’d found. “I’m working on an evergreens pattern for a series of products, I actually think knowing more about these aspects of them would give me a lot of inspiration!”

Standing up a little straighter, Kaisa couldn’t hold back a breathy chuckle of relief that Johanna seemed to be taking that attempt well.

“I was hoping you’d let me tell you more about it over coffee?” She asked as she bit down on her bottom lip. “If you’re busy right now-”

“No, no!” Johanna waved her hands in front of her. “I’m completely free.”

Perhaps that hadn’t been the best thing to say, since she had just informed her that she was working on a project, but Kaisa didn’t seem skeptical of her answer at all, only happy. Her grey eyes lit up, as beautiful as the snow outside when the weak winter sun shone on it.

“Oh.” Kaisa breathed. She seemed surprised, and maybe even amazed by the situation, and it filled Johanna with warmth. If she seemed awe struck by something so simple, she couldn’t possibly be used to being appreciated, and Johanna couldn’t wait to change that. Figuring Kaisa had already done the most of the reaching out just by going there, she spoke up again.

“There’s a pretty good coffee house in the centre square.” She said. “We could take the chance to pick up some fallen Sostansil flowers, I loved pressing them in my journal when I was younger. Plus, I’m pretty sure they sell their cookbooks there, and I just discovered I need a new one.”

As if by work of magic, confidence seemed to return to Kaisa’s stance. “That sounds lovely!”

“I’ll just check with Hilda if it’s alright to leave her alone and-”

“Don’t worry about me.” Both of them startled when they noticed Hilda had been standing a few meters away, in the kitchen. “I’ve got to do homework and walk Twig.”

“Hilda, it’s impolite to listen to other people’s conversations.” Johanna called out. All the girl did was mutter an amused ‘sorry’ and walk back to her room.

Since when Johanna looked back at the librarian she didn’t look put off by Hilda’s behaviour, she took a step back and pointed behind herself.

“In this case, I’ll just grab my coat and we can go. I’d love to hear all about what you found out.”

Kaisa’s smile was the last thing Johanna saw before she ran off to her room. It was intriguing, she thought, how the mistletoe hadn’t needed to be above her head to help her.

Maybe, from then on, she’d like it a lot more.

#fic: nmaoh #my fic #sketchbook ship #sketchbook ship hilda #sketchbook ship fanfic #kaisa hilda fanfic #johanna hilda fanfic

40 notes · View notes

autumnalfallingleaves · 3 years

Note

Frida

Headcanon A: realistic

(kinda drawing on an AU I’m working on but) After the whole Stone Forest debacle, Frida has the idea to establish some sort of sign language system that humans and Trolls can use to communicate. There’s obviously some Trolls who aren’t antagonistic towards humans. Take the Troll with the camera bracelet, for example. That one just hung out for a while with her, David, and Gerda, after all. She thinks that they could possibly establish some sort of agreement between the two species if they could just actually communicate. Verbally, it seems impossible, so a shared sign language could perhaps work. (Hilda doesn’t need one, because for whatever reason, she can still understand Trolls as a human, but everyone needs a way to communicate.) Frida knows it, of course, but so does David, Gerda, Alfur, and Johanna, as well as several Trolls, as they’re the ones that interact with Trolls the most after Hilda.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

Frida often uses her witchcraft to play pranks on the bullies of the town, especially Trevor. It’s not overt, obviously, but Kaisa has taught her several little spells that inconvenience the recipient. It may be something like your shoelaces refusing to stay tied, or always losing your keys, or forgetting your grocery list. Nothing actually harmful, but so, so, so annoying. If she’s feeling particularly vengeful, she’ll ask a Nisse to take one item and hide it in Nowhere Space. Like a sock so you’ll never have a matching pair of socks again.

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

Frida really doesn’t have the best relationship with her parents. She resents how strict they are, and it doesn’t help that they keep pushing her to do more and more and more. Their pride always comes with a qualifier- no I’m proud of you’s just because. She always has to do something perfectly to get their praise. As she gets older, she starts to hang out at Hilda’s, Tildy’s, and the library/Witch’s Tower much more than at home. After all, Johanna, Tildy, and Kaisa are much better at being family than her own parents. Frida knows wholeheartedly that her parents wouldn’t approve of her being a witch, either, and it’s just so much easier to be herself whenever she’s not at home. (She’s got sleep stuff at all three places just in case she doesn’t want to go home- everyone fully understands, and it feels so much better to be with people who love her unconditionally.)

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

It instantly puts Frida at ease whenever Hilda’s around. I would think that witches and Familiars have powerful bonds, so it just feels right to have her Familiar around at all times. It’s like having all parts of yourself be complete. That bond, as well, makes it so they have an emotional bond. They can feel whatever the other is feeling if the emotion is particularly strong, which makes it a bit easier to cast joint spells if you’re on the same page. (It also makes it harder to lie to each other, which, if your Familiar is Hilda, isn’t necessarily a bad thing.) It also makes it easier to coordinate a vandalism-against-the-Safety-Patrol mission if the kids & co. have split up- walkie-talkies aren’t great for that sort of stuff, anyway

Send a character’s name to receive four different headcanons

#hilda the series #hilda netflix #hilda the show #hilda #beans answers #I had a hard time coming up w these for some reason #that reason may be that its 11:30 pm and im exhausted #but whatever

31 notes · View notes

thenightling · 3 years

Text

The Dreaming: waking Hours issue 11 review

Okay, there’s a lot to unpack here. First the good.

Daniel was actually portrayed as competent and compassionate. Hurray!

Too bad those sparks of intelligence from Daniel don’t seem to last very long when he’s not being written by Neil.

Also I was right that Heather is trans and that was not treated as a major plot point. More on that later.

Though I have to wonder, with all her power, why she transitioned medically instead of magically. I imagine if she used magick to transition she wouldn't need permanent hormone medication. I know it helps to represent the real trans condition but sometimes you want a little convenient magical escapism of making it easier.

Now for the picking apart / bad stuff.

Though G. Willow Wilson is well-versed in faery lore enough to know the rules about true names and concepts like The Unseelie I am afraid she mishandles them a bit. For example she treats the Unseelie like this one specific faceless type of fae instead of an entire fae court of dark fae that usually entails goblins, trolls, drow, imps, etc.

She also doesn’t seem to know that in most depictions of Oberon and Titania they were nonchalant and very familiar with each other’s infidelities. Oberon should not have been surprised (especially this far into things) that Titania slept with Morpheus.

Titania all but bluntly spelt it out at The Wake. I am fairly certain Oberon was there. Where was he when she spoke? Drinking in the back?

In some faery lore Nuala was Oberon’s lover. I had figured that was the reason Titania saw to it she was given as a gift to Morpheus. It was both a means to possibly get rid of her or if Morpheus didn’t accept the gift (she must have known his anti-slavery stance) it would have given a justifiable excuse for the Fae to go to war with The Dreaming and potentially lay claim to the key to Hell in Season of Mists.

Even Disney’s Gargoyles acknowledged this aspect of their character dynamic. When Oberon learned that Titania had a half-human child in the episode The Gathering Part 1 of Disney’s Gargoyles his response was (while grinning and chuckling) “Mother?! Titania, what HAVE you been up to?”

In the Shakespeare play, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, it was pretty clear that Oberon wanted Titania to sleep with Bottom while he had an ass’s head (blatant metaphor) as a means to humiliate her.

Moving on.

Yes, I was right that Heather is trans. I am very glad it was not a major plot point before now. However, the way her “True name” was handled wasn’t as good as I had hoped. I had hoped that the fact that she chose the name Heather After that this has become her true name. But the implication here is her deadname could have been used as her true name. That bothers me.

I always figured true names (the name that can be used to summon and bind a magick user or supernatural creature) didn’t necessarily have to be the name you had at birth. For example Vlad III of Wallachia is more well known as Drakulya (Dracula), the name he chose for himself as a patronymic homage to his father and so got used as his own house name.

In the 1985 Fright Night the character of Peter Vincent at first said “That isn’t even my real name.” But after he undergoes considerable character growth and puts protecting others before his own fear he starts saying “I AM Peter Vincent, the great vampire killer!” The persona became his true name.

True names are NOT necessarily the name you had at birth. This is part of why I feel the previous aspect of Dream may have Morpheus as as close to a true name as he’s got. That’s why he’s credited as Lord Morpheus instead of Dream in The Sandman audio drama and calling out to him by the name Morpheus is how he came to rescue Rose from Funland in The Sandman: The Doll’s House.

So anyway, I’m conflicted about this scene in The Dreaming: Waking Hours. I’m glad the deadname didn’t work as the true name but I would have felt better of Heather had become her true name. That would have, in my opinion, been more satisfying than “There’s no such thing as a true name.”

Something else that bugged me... All the ham-handed anti-monarchy commentary. In real life monarchies are not great buuut we’re talking about the faerie court here. They’re not human. Can you even imagine what the goblins would vote for if they had a democracy? “Okay, that’s 97% in favor of abducting every infant in Manhattan. And 3% wrote in ‘Chilli dogs.’ I didn’t know they could spell...”

It’s become a little embarrassing to me how every fantasy written by Americans has become anti-monarchy. Disney’s Descendants, Once Upon a time’s finale (they voted...), Game of Thrones’ ending, because having any sort of vote in a world that never had any before would totally work out well at that point in their culture.... Even on Tumblr I came across someone who thought they could “fix” the “Dumpster fire” that is Nightmare before Christmas by having the mayor strip Jack Skellington of his Pumpkin King title as punishment for what he did to Christmas since “You can’t learn your lesson if you do wrong without punishment.” Frankly, I’m tired of the anti-monarchy stuff where it doesn’t actually work.

And the deliberately weak argument written for Titania of “But I’m Beautiful and Ancient!” Also what’s with the weird almost-fetishism that she’s still wearing those manacle cuffs? Why didn’t Oberon or even Nuala take those off of her yet since they’re working together?

This is interesting because right here in the final page Heather quotes the very spell that invoked Morpheus. I have been mentally conditioned that every time I see black talk bubbles with white text in a Sandman universe comic my first thought is “Morpheus?” even though we have already seen it used for other characters in things like the Dan Watters run of Lucifer.

But the combination of quoting the invocation spell that trapped Morpheus, the talk bubble, and the golden thread (that resembles Morpheus’ life thread) has me intrigued and I don’t want to get my hopes up at the possibilities.

And still, for all my nitpicking, this IS the best version of The Dreaming to date.

I love Heather. I think she’s very well written. She’s the best original character of any Sandman spin-off. I just think the anti-monarchy ranting is very misplaced in the realm of Faerie. Think of what their parliament would consist of. It’s like the minion of Jadis, The White Witch from Chronicles of Narnia, combined with the goblin muppets from Labyrinth, and the fae from Lost Girl combined.

#The Dreaming #The Dreaming: Waking Hours #The Sandman Universe

11 notes · View notes

leverage-ot3 · 4 years

Text

to all the leverage fans out there, I thought I’d throw out some recommendations of other shows that y’all might like

this is completely centered around the lgbt aspects of leverage (how none of the characters are straight, how there is a canon ot3, etc), because I know other people have recommended white collar and stuff but I haven’t personally seen that and I’m just a humble lgbt wanting to share more gay shows with y’all

1. wynonna earp (my sideblog is @angelicearps)

just renewed for a fourth season after two years (this feeling is very familiar to leverage fans)

the first episode of season four aired last night and IM SCREAMING the writers served us a five course meal

the main love story includes waverly earp, a CANON (officially as of 4.01) bisexual girl falling in love with nicole haught, a lesbian cop-turned-sheriff (that’s a slight spoiler, so sorry about that) and both of them are main characters

wynonna earp, another main character, has a complicated relationship with two different men and is not slut shamed for it and is never put down about it

I’m serious- the healthiest and most stable relationship in the show is between waverly and nicole, so wlw nation rise

wynonna and waverly are descendants of the great gunslinger (and demon killer) wyatt earp, who ended up getting a curse on his future generations. the story of the show is centered around wynonna being the chosen heir having to fight demons and try to break the curse for good

doc holiday is another main character- yes, that doc holiday. he’s one of wynonna’s love interests and he has such a pure and loving relationship with waverly. he’d literally die for her and move heaven and hell to make sure she’s safe (that’s literally canon)

jeremy comes in around season two if I remember correctly. canon gay. gets in a relationship with another canon gay character whose name I am blanking on. they are very loving and very pure

literally, in 4.01, when armed military men are breaking into the earp homestead and he doesn’t know what to do, he literally says: “gays only?” lol they didn’t respect that answer

the show has so many good quips and one-liners. so many hilarious lines. it can be an angsty show at times but they definitely balance it out with humor and wlw softness between waverly and nicole

wynonna has a baby in season two and literally calls herself a milf

it also made fans faint because they have been calling nicole “daddy” for like six years and nicole was referred to as daddy three (3) times in 4.01

this show is NOT AFRAID to say things like gay, lesbian, etc. at one point someone tweeted at emily andreas (the writer) asking her to amp up the gay energy and she responded that she would

literally, emily andreas is on the same level as john rogers with trustability and dedication to fans

emily andreas heard of the bury your gays trope and did us one better: unkillible gays trope. the gays are unkillable.

2. motherland: fort salem (my sideblog is @fortsalem)

(HELL YEAH I WAS ONE OF THE FIRST IN THE FANDOM AND I GOT THE HANDS DOWN B E S T URL)

au where during the salem witch trials a witches named sarah alder made an agreement with the government that witches would serve for the us army in exchange for not being systematically hunted down and killed

THIS IS NOT MILITARY PROPAGANDA. sorry, I just had to make this point early on because it’s not even though it might seem like it in the beginning. literally by the end of the season you see it’s very corrupt

since this is an alternate history of the united states, in this universe there are no heteronorms. literally, there’s literally no words for lesbian and bisexual that they use because it’s so normalized and common and accepted that there’s no need for terms like that

the main love story is of star-crossed raelle and scylla. raelle comes from a poor family and is a talented healer, and (this isn’t technically a spoiler because you find out in episode one) scylla is a member of the spree

the spree is a terrorist organization of witches that protests the compliance witches are forced into by having to join the military or die/be imprisoned

scylla is supposed to turn raelle to the “dark side” but falls so deeply in love with her that she can’t do it (THATS TRUE LOVE FOLKS)

the students at fort salem (the military school) are divided into groups of three: the main group being focused on is composed of raelle, tally, and abigail

tally craven is a pure-hearted baby and I’d die for her. she is very idealistic about fighting in the military (but don’t worry that’s fixed by the end of the season)

abigail bell weather comes from a high military family and is kinda really stuck up about it, but she’s humbled a lot by the end of the season. this girl has LAYERS (they all do, but abigail goes through a lot and goes from very stuck up and stuck up the military’s ass to questioning everything she knows)

the trio starts off rocky, especially between raelle and abigail, because raelle blames abigail’s mother for her mother’s death (her mother’s unit was led by abigail’s mother)

the beltane episode literally hits you in the face with how there are literally no heteronorms whatsoever. they do this sacred dance where by the end they will end up with the people they are destined to spend the celebration with (“trust the dance”). raelle makes friends with a gay guy and they spend the celebration making fun of the sex noises around them and become gay friends for life. abigail has sex with two (2) guys who kiss each other. a group of four girls went off together. a group of two girls and a guy went off together. and sex isn’t shamed. at all. in fact, it’s respected as a part of life. and y’all, literally this representation was OFF THE CHARTS

the witch’s most powerful tool is their voice,,, think about that for a minute

it’s an all girls school so there are like no guys whatsoever minus the beltane episode and a couple others

EMPOWERED WOMEN (of all ages and ethnicities too)

3. siren (my sideblog is @polymarinelove)

imma start off by saying that season three doesn’t exist. don’t watch season three. don’t do it. the disappointment is real

ANYWAYS

the central love story is between an interracial couple (a white guy and his black girlfriend that has a native american stepfather) that turns into a loving polyamorous relationship

maddie, the girlfriend, is amazing and incredibly smart and the first two seasons (and the beginning of the third) accentuate that and they never downplay her because she’s a black woman like many shows and movies do. she’s a smart stem woman and we stan her so hard. she’s also bisexual.

ben, the guy, comes from a rich family that are basically the hotshots of the town and own the fishing company that the community works for. his dad is hella untrustable. ben doesn’t trust him and neither should you. he is kindhearted and smart and respectful, and at one point teaches a merman about consent after being kissed by him (and he didn’t even #nohomo it which was AMAZING)

now to the mermaids

mermaids are apex predators. they are very dangerous. they are very strong. they’re also wickedly smart, canon smarter than humans

the story begins when donna, ryn’s sister, is captured by a fishing boat and carted off to a military facility. ryn comes to land to try to find and save her. (she literally choses her name because she sees a character on a kid’s tv show saying “I am ryn” which is also the first thing in english that she can say)

she ends up being helped by ben and maddie and legit is like these humans are hot imma learn english for them

there’s a lot of really cool and thought out lore as well as TONS of thoughtful marine biology science that makes sense

oh and transforming from mermaid to human? painful as FUCK. realistic depictions of having your body literally transform into something else

humans are wrecking the oceans and that’s a heavy theme of the show

oil rigs are poisoning the water (making them infertile) and killing mermaids with their sonic drilling

so ben and maddie lowkey commit an act of ecoterrorism but it’s chill

“ben and maddie are love” they’re poly, bitches

they come together in a natural, organic way

very healthy and communicative

ben’s alright but ryn and maddie are amazing

don’t watch season three if you don’t want to be majorly disappointed. the writers listened to the homophobic trolls on instagram and broke up the polyamorous relationship and I’ll NEVER forgive them for that. seasons one and two are amazing though. just don’t watch the third one.

#leverage ot3 #leverage #reccommendations #my recs #siren #siren freeform #motherland fort salem #fort salem #wynonna earp #mine

113 notes · View notes

musicalskater59 · 3 years

Text

Daylight December: Hunter

Alrighty! First of all, I'm writing this one on my phone so if my grammar or shit is off a little, that's why. Second of all, sorry for the lateness today! Had a pretty hectic morning/afternoon so far lol Also, this one is more of an AU write-up in comparison to my last few I've had on here soooo I hope that's alright with all of you.

Anyway! I hope you guys enjoy it!

Ever since I was young, I was told I was meant for great things. It was not just expected, but destined for me.

I guess that comes with being the son of a trollhunter.

Our family line of hunters dates back centuries. All the way back to the days of Mark Anthony and Cleopatra, as my father would say.

But no matter how great he told me I would be, I never felt as such.

Especially in moments like these.

I huffed heavily as I tried my best to calm my breaths.

"Hunter!" The growl of the towering Gum-Gum broke through the silence of the forest with ease as I let out a small yelp in reply. "You cannot hide from me forever!"

Are you sure about that, Bular? I'm pretty sure I'm big enough of a coward to find a way.

A large smack echoed through the forest as the troll knocked the trunk of a tree hard enough for it to snap in half. The tree falling to the ground with a loud thud as I just pressed my back against the tree I was hiding behind.

On second thought, you'll definitely be able to kill me before then.

"Come on. Come on. Think Lake. Think!" I muttered the words to myself as I looked around my surroundings. The only sight to be seen was the thick mass of trees around me.

If I start running now, there's no chance that I'll be able to outrun him. Trolls run as fast as an automobile while I can barely run a mine in under five minutes. If I keep hiding here, he'll find me for sure. So what to do, Lake? What do you do?

I leaned the back of my head against the trunk as the soft clink of my helmet made itself known to me.

Proud of me now, Dad? Your only child you paid your life to save is a coward when it comes to a single Gum-Gum you fought countless times. That's something to be proud of, right? Totally.

I whipped my head toward the sound of a sudden whoosh beside me as the sight of a black and purple hooded figure joined my side through a purple portal.

"Hunter." I smiled at the sight as her familiar soft voice joined me.

"Witch." I nodded my head toward her since she couldn't see my smile due to my armor. "Or was it Wizard that you enjoyed being called?"

"THERE YOU ARE!" I whipped my attention toward the Gum-Gum's voice as the witch grabbed my bicep and pulled me into the portal she had jumped through a few moments prior.

"I've told you to call me Claire."

"Well I told you a million times now to call me Jim, but you seem to enjoy Hunter better." We turned our attention toward the thunder of fast footsteps before Claire pulled me into the portal behind her.

"Let's worry more about living and less about names at the moment."

"Whatever you say, Magic Lady." We stepped through to the other side as our eyes were welcomed to the sight of Troll Market as the portal whooshed shut behind us. "Thanks for the save there."

"No problem, Lake." The witch pulled the hood off her head before toying with her hair to adjust it behind her neck. "Count it as a thank you for the last time you saved me."

"When I helped you it was with a horde of goblins. It was nothing like getting a getaway from Bular the goddamn Butcher."

"Nope. We're even."

"But-." She turned toward me and tapped the collar part of my armor so that my helmet retracted into it. Her index finger then tapping the edge of my nose with an amused tone in her voice.

"Even." I blushed as she just turned away from me and started heading further into Troll Market. The glow of the heartstone crystal gracing her figure as she entered the beauty that was Troll Market.

Huh. A beauty entering an equally beautiful scene. Ironic.

I felt a dopey smile appear on my face as I followed after Claire. The memory of the two of us first meeting as The Hunter and The Witch of Troll Market ringing through my head with each step I took.

I stared at her with wide eyes as she flung her hood off her head.

"The name's Claire." I looked down at her hand as I swallowed dryly at the sight of it. "I'm not going to bite you, you know."

"I know." I swallowed once more as I took her hand into mine. "I know you already." She gave me a curious look as I tapped that the collar of my armor. My helmet retreating into it as I gave her a nervous smile. "I'm-."

"Jim. Jim Lake." She gave me a soft smile as she shook my hand once as I just gave her a shocked look.

"You know my name?"

"How could I not?" She gave a soft giggle after her response. "We've had classes together for what? The last two years?"

"Sorry, just thought you wouldn't notice me."

"And why wouldn't I?"

"Because I'm-. Well. Me." I gave her a nervous smile once more as she just gave me a smile in return.

"I quite liked the you I knew."

"Really?"

"Really."

"You're getting a lot better with dealing with Bular though." I shook myself out of my memories as I looked over toward Claire who was now by my side as we made our way further into Troll Market together. "You're just frightened of getting hurt like anyone else is. You don't trust yourself and honestly, you need to give yourself a bit more credit."

"Credit for what? Hiding like a coward?"

"Credit for being out there in the first place." I gave her a shocked look as she just gave me a wide smile. Her fist knocking into my left bicep in a friendly manner. Even if the pink tint of her cheeks was telling me otherwise. "Any other guy in your shoes wouldn't even bother running out there like that. Especially since you ran out into the forest for what again?"

"A lost whelp." I mumbled the words under my breath as I pulled my gaze away from hers. A bright blush taking over my face as her praise caused a bashful feeling to take over my chest.

"Exactly." Her hand placed itself on my left shoulder as she shook it lightly with a laugh. "This is why you're a good hunter. If you were a true coward, you wouldn't have gone out there in the first place." I looked back over toward her as she squeezed my shoulder plate. "You just gotta have a little faith in yourself."

"Well the only faith I have right now is that you'll have my back." I gave her a wide smile as a blush continued to burn at my cheeks. The wide smile she gave me in return causing a nervous swell to take over my chest instead.

"That you should." She engulfed my left bicep with her right hand as she dragged me toward The Forge. "Now let's go tell Blinky about what we saw. He'll know what to do with our little Gum-Gum problem." I smiled as I let her pull me along.

I might not be a great hunter, but I will be one day. I'll be everything that my father thought I would be. It'll take a little time though.

Claire flashed me a smile over her shoulder as we went further into Troll Market. The hustle and bustle of the underground city going silent as all I could hear was the rush of my heartbeat in my ears.

At least, I will be. With her by my side.

#daylightdecember #jlaire #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #jim x claire #trollhunters #tales of arcadia

13 notes · View notes

ardent-musings · 3 years

Text

The Girl Who Vanished (Part 1)

Chapter 2: Ms. Malfoy

If Ana thought the castle was beautiful while she was on the train, seeing it up close was a whole new feeling of amazement. Never before had she experienced such a stunning sight and her face glowed. Hagrid accompanied the first years as they were situated into small boats, her path diverging from the Gryffindor quad. Of course, she was upset that she couldn't be sharing this moment with them, but she had yet to be sorted. Before her conversation on the train, she never once questioned whether or not she wanted to be in Slytherin. Her father always made it clear that Slytherin was the only acceptable house for a wizard, at least a wizard that respected themselves. But now, her impression of Gryffindor was not all that bad; at least not as bad as her father made it seem.

Despite being tired, not only from getting no sleep, but also from rowing across a giant lake, Ana couldn't help but buzz with energy. And the closer the boat got to the school grounds, the more intense it got. She could hear Hagrid shouting from a few boats behind, but her brain could not even begin to process what he had said.

It only took a few more rows until her little boat met the dock at the edge of the school. She and the two quiet boys that were rowing with her stumbled out of the rocky boat, not waiting for her to catch up with them. Once again, she was aware of how alone she was; the laughter she had grown to enjoy was gone as night had fallen over the castle. The cool air began to pierce her skin, making her wrap her arms around herself, hoping to get inside soon. She kept her head down, focusing on her footing, and followed the direction of her fellow first years.

Once they entered the school, she was met with a grand staircase which seemed to never end. She stomped up the stone steps and was halted in front of a large door; behind it was filled with loud chatter and yells of excitement. At the top of the stairs was a witch, her slender frame covered in ornate emerald robes and a giant hat was perched on her head.

"Greetings, first years," the witch greeted, her Scottish accent strong. "I am Professor McGonagall, your new Transfiguration teacher and the Head of Gryffindor House. Beyond these doors is where your time at Hogwarts begins. But before that happens you will be placed into your house."

Not a peep could be heard from the first years, everyone hanging on to whatever the witch said. "Your house will be like your family; do well in your work and you will be rewarded. Fail to do so, and it will cost your house dearly. Now I want everyone to follow me," she said, turning quick on her heel. She stopped at the giant doors until they swung open before her, revealing the rest of the students and the professors. Ana looked around her, trying to find the only other faces she was familiar with, finding them to the right. She smiled at the group, all of them grinning up at her with hopeful eyes. Angelina made it a point to smack the space next to her on the wooden bench, them anticipating a spot for her.

Professor McGonagall began, "Bell, Katie!"

A girl came out of the crowd of students, her brown hair pulled high into a ponytail that seemed to be tugging at her forehead. She wobbled up the steps with shaky knees as she sat on the stool. Professor McGonagall than placed a dingy hat on top of her head. A voice blaring from the wrinkles of fabric.

"Ah ha! I see a lot of goodness in you, quite a lot of spunk!" the hat bellowed, everyone in the hall now silent. "I have a pretty good idea where you belong. GRYFFINDOR!"

The long table beside her cheered, the spot that was once available for Ana, now replaced with another student. One by one, each student would sit and get placed. And every time the alphabet got closer to her name, Ana's heart fluttered in her chest. She could hardly pay attention, but she caught a few sortings.

"Bole, Alexandra!" Slytherin gained its first student and the list continued.

"Carmichael, Eddie!" Was sorted into Ravenclaw.

"Chang, Cho!" Ravenclaw, too. A few more students passed.

"Kane, Calista!" Slytherin again.

The anticipation was enough to make any person faint. The unknown wasn't something Ana enjoyed. She forced herself to take deep breaths, focusing not on what was in front of her, but only the rise and fall of her lungs.

"Malfoy, Bibiana!" Professor McGonagall called. Hushed whispers began to fill the room, many students sitting up higher to take a look at the girl, who wanted nothing more than to be swallowed into the floor beneath her. Slowly, her feet moved on their own accord, knowing that standing there motionlessly would only make her look even stranger. Staring at her with shocked expressions were the twins, Lee, and Angelina. But they weren't the only ones staring in anticipation; the rest of the student body were equally as invested. Bibiana closed her eyes, waiting for the moment to end.

"A Malfoy, eh?" the hat commented. "This is an interesting case, you see. Every Malfoy before you all went to the same house. You've got wit and you've got charm, but that all depends on what you use it for." The longer the hat deliberated the harder it was for her to breath. "Nonetheless, it seems quite clear where you will succeed."

"SLYTHERIN!"

Ana opened her eyes once the decision was made. Slytherin always seemed like a good fit for her, and from hearing what the house valued, she felt comfortable with it. The uneasy feeling in her stomach must be from not having eaten enough that day.

The hat was removed from her head, and Ana was unable to stop herself from looking at the Gryffindor table. As expected the expressions on the twins', Lee's and Angelina's faces were what she was afraid they'd be. They all glared at her with strained brows and tight lips as she made her way to the Slytherin table. There she was greeted with cheers, the older Slytherins watching her and clapping until she sat down at the opposite end of the long table. Although a smaller reaction would have been better for her nerves, seeing a few smiles at her expense was nice to see. Soon, all the first years were sorted into their houses and a wizard in deep plum robes approached the lectern at the head of the hall.

"Wonderful, everyone! Quite wonderful," the man mused. "It seems that everything is in order! And while we are here, it is my duty to remind all students of the school's restrictions. No one is allowed into the third floor corridor or the Dark Forest, unless an early death is what you wish."

Ana found that to be a bit dramatic, but it did get the point across. The man quickly wrapped up his speech and with a clap of his hands mounds of food appeared in front of them. Every inch of the table was filled with fruits and breads and meats, whatever a person could want. Ana found herself gravitating towards the fruits, strawberries being her absolute favorite. She also helped herself to a serving of potatoes that would be even too much for that tall man, Hagrid, to handle. Yet she felt up to the challenge after rowing across a whole lake.

"You gonna share the potatoes there, Malfoy?" the boy next to her asked with a smirk. She handed him the bowl and he took them quickly. "I'm Aeron Wright by the way," he proudly announced.

The boy scooped spoonful after spoonful of the potatoes, clearly not caring that he was emptying the bowl. Although you would never tell he could eat so much, his thin frame huddled over the plate which he kept piling high with food.

"Save the table some food will you?"

"What? Alexandra was it?" He snapped back, "I'm hungry so I'm going to take what I need."

"Yeah, because you definitely look like you need to eat as much as a mountain troll," mocked the girl. She played with the spaghetti and meatballs on her plate, trying desperately to get it to stay on her fork. "Don't worry about him," she assured, "he's just very passionate about his food, it seems."

The boy feigned hurt as he dug into his food, picking up a dinner roll and chucking it at Alexandra's head. She swatted the food away, it landing a few feet down in front of the more stern looking Slytherins, all of them staring back at Ana. That surely did not help the pit in her stomach at all.

"This is my brother by the way," the girl said, a smile gracing her olive toned skin. She pulled on the sleeve of the boy next to her, nearly knocking him over with her strength. He grabbed at his collar, trying to release himself from her grip as he turned towards them.

"Loosen up, Alex," he chuckled at his sister.

His eyes were such a light blue that they almost looked clear if you weren't looking hard enough. The contrast was stark between them and his skin. He was, in no other way of stating it, wonderful to look at. "Hey! I'm Lucian," he offered a gentle smile, nibbling on a piece of broccoli.

"I'm Bibiana Malfoy, but I prefer Ana," she replied. "That's what everyone calls me anyways."

"You have a good time on the train then, Ana?"

She smiled at his interest, picking up more strawberries. "I did. I was seated with a few second year Gryffindors, the red headed twins."

Lucian's expression immediately shifted from curious to irked, "You mean those two gits who are staring at you?" He motioned to the Gryffindor table with his fork. Ana turned around to see the two of them dart their heads down, nudging each other's arms and whispering. Ana would be lying if she pretended like their reactions didn't hurt, but the nagging feeling in her chest told her that whatever they had on the train was over.

"Yeah, I wouldn't be seeking them out anytime soon," the older boy continued, noticing her sudden somber look. "Last year they let off multiple dungbombs into the Slytherin Quidditch dressing rooms. They even convinced Peeves, the poltergeist, to terrorize Professor Snape any chance he could get. The two really have it out for the Slytherins."

Ana had a feeling that the Gryffindors didn't take kindly to Slytherins when they were on the train, but she never figured that the people who were so nice to her could also be so mean. Sure they were young boys and they had some energy, but hearing them acting out against Slytherins was new information to her. Still, she hoped for different.

"But, they were nice to me on the train. You think they would just turn like that?"

"I hope for your sake they don't," he sighed, giving her a half smile.

Ana once again peered over at the Gryffindor table, meeting the eyes of no one.

"Well, who needs the stinky twins?" Alex stabbed her meatball. "Who cares if they don't like you anymore? You don't need them anyways."

"Or, you could try talking to them like nothing bad happened. Just because you're in another house that doesn't mean they're necessarily going to ignore you," a voice chimed in. The airy sound came from a girl whose hip-length black hair hung from the sides of her head in two long braids. "Sure, they may be a bit confused right now, but who's to say they're going to treat you any different?"

"Oh first year, there is a lot for you to learn," Lucian leaned in closely. "For starters, Slytherins and Gryffindors have a sort of rivalry. It's been going on for years. It'd just be smart to move on." He directed the end of his statement back at Ana, giving her a pointed look.

"Especially with you being a Malfoy and all," Alex added on, her brother enthusiastically waving his fork in agreement.

"Oh fantastic," Ana snickered, "my very first friends are now my enemies."

"Well maybe not," squeaked the dark haired girl again.

"Who are you again?" Aeron took a moment to tear away from his food to ask.

"Calista Kane."

Aeron took a deep swallow, pushing down whatever he had stuffed in his cheeks, taking a few deep breaths. "Look, Calista. That's just how things work. My uncle even had issues with Gryffindors when he went to school here and that was years ago. I wouldn't expect this feud to end simply because little Miss Malfoy over here," he gestured to Ana, "is upset she got ditched by some dumb twins."

"Well aren't you a joy," Calista laughed, returning her attention back to Ana, who seemed to lose interest in her dinner. "Everything will be fine. Whether you talk to them again or not. So what's the worst that could happen? You just don't talk to them. That's not such a loss."

Ana found herself comforted by Calista's words. The girl's hair might be halfway in her bowl of soup, but that didn't stop her from focusing on helping Ana feel better. Calista looked at her with warm eyes and a soft smile. Somehow, Ana felt like she had to agree with her.

"No, I guess you're right," Ana reasoned. "Besides I wanted to be in Slytherin anyways. I can't imagine what my father would say had I been sorted into another house."

Alex nodded, plopping a meatball into her mouth, "That's the kind of attitude you need. Forget them. You've got us now."

Ana smiled at the girl, swallowing her hurt and finding comfort in the people surrounding her now. She once again started eating her food, finding no point in pouting over the loss of people she only knew for a few hours. The Slytherins would be with her for the next seven years, it made sense to start caring about them instead of worrying over the Gryffindors.

Finding herself feeling better, Ana and Lucian began talking about the ins and outs of Hogwarts, learning about the various professors and the squib, Filch, who had a seemingly very unusual relationship with his cat. She made a note to try and interact with him as little as possible. She found Alex to be the louder Bole sibling, bouncing in her seat and blurting out whenever something excited her or if she felt like poking fun at someone. Her energy was definitely needed given how exhausted Ana started to feel. Calista was quieter, providing very animated faces to what was going on, but not speaking for the most part. Once again, Aeron was lost in his food but would sometimes talk to Elliot Wolter and Malachy Allard, two other boys who were sorted into Slytherin.

As dinner rolled on, Ana's smile returned, finding her House to offer her the same feelings the Gryffindors stirred within her. She felt airy and full of warmth, especially now that she was having her fill of pumpkin pasties and apple cider. All the nervousness and judgement that coursed through her brain earlier were gone.

Slowly students began to leave the hall and a Slytherin a few years older than them directed the first years to the grand staircase. After taking a turn to the right and leading them down a flight of stairs into the dungeons, she came to a barren wall that stretched for a good twenty feet. The older girl whispered, "Wolfsbane" and a large iron door revealed itself to the students.

When they passed through, they descended into a dark room that was sunken into the floor. The walls weren't exactly walls, but glass that looked out into what Ana assumed was the lake they had just been over a few hours ago. If she looked close enough she could see various creatures swimming from window to window. The whole area was tinted green from the murky lake. The room was huge and had silver and green accents everywhere, whether it was the leather sofas or the curtains that hung to the ground. A blazing fire roared in the large stone fireplace that was situated at the center of the space in front of loveseats and armchairs and throw pillows, making the area surprisingly cozy considering they were literally underwater.

"This is the- " the poor student couldn't even finish her tour as Alex ran past her and threw her body at one of the sofas, "This is the common room."

The rest of the first years paid attention to the girl who explained that this was where they were going to live for the next seven years. Passwords would alternate so that it was better protected but the updated password would be posted by Merlin. And by a portrait of Merlin was a board of announcements that they would have to keep up with. The girl showed Ana and Calista to their dormitory, while Alex decided to stay behind to talk to her brother in the common room.

The dorms were simple; all the furniture lined up along a wall with storage and a chest at the foot of each four poster bed. The green canopies matched the glow of green that emanated from the two giant panes of glass that looked out to the black lake. Between the panes was a stone insert where a fireplace was already warming up the room. A gorgeous mantel piece, a two foot long serpent with red eyes, was perched on top of the stone ledge.

After telling the girls about how their following day would play out, the older girl left her and Calista to get some sleep. The two scrambled to their beds, Ana's items were placed at the bed furthest from the door, so she slumped down on the mattress, relieved at how it seemed to ease her tired body. Calista's bed was next to hers, leaving Alex's bed the one closest to the door.

Ana stayed staring at the ceiling, reliving the events of the day. King's Cross seemed like forever ago and she could only imagine how much Draco missed her. She couldn't help but think about him roaming through the manor all alone. Maybe he would get desperate and hang around Dobby, their house elf. Ana quite liked the little guy. Of course he was always nervous around Lucius, but even she was nervous around her own father. Still, the elf was great company for her when Draco wasn't around.

"Do you think we should find Alex?" Calista asked quietly, pulling out a few items from her trunk and placing them on her nightstand.

Ana took a moment to answer. "No," she said, "I have a feeling Lucian will tell her where her dorm is."

"It must be nice having a sibling already at Hogwarts. It'd make the transition easier, I think," she pulled out a rabbit plushie from her bag, making Ana smile as she grabbed for it. She played with the flopping ears, bouncing the animal on her lap. "I had a rabbit when I was five. Her name was Minnie."

"What happened to Minnie?"

Calista continued to pull little trinkets out of her bag, unravelling a large shiny sheet of parchment. The girl was having trouble holding the parchment up against the wall, so Ana jumped up to hold the sides up for her. "Thanks," Calista smiled, "and uh, Minnie was attacked by a wolf and didn't make it past the night. I was devastated. But in the morning, I woke up to that plushie on my bed."

"I'm sorry about your rabbit," Ana sighed as the girl pulled out her wand. She pointed it to the parchment and chanted. "Viscosi!" The parchment stayed up on the wall needing no one to hold it up any longer. Ana took a step away from the parchment to see that it was a picture of five people, and in small text read "The Breakfast Club".

"It's a movie!" Calista's eyes twinkled with excitement. The girl was far more talkative than when she was at dinner, and Ana was in no state to kill the mood. Humoring the girl, Ana asked her to tell her all about what a movie was, and then what happened in it.

Any plans they had to go to bed early were squashed once Calista started talking about the ins and outs of the movie. The characters all seemed very different from each other and Ana couldn't help but wonder which of the group she would be: the jock, the princess, the nerd, the criminal, or the outcast. None of them sounded like her and yet she figured she could become any of them at the end of the day.

"I also just think that Molly Ringwald is really pretty," Calista pointed at the red headed girl in all pink, a red blush settled on her golden brown cheeks.

"Molly is pretty but have you see Bender and Allison? Now, they're pretty."

Alex had finally joined the girls after returning from the common room. She jumped on Calista's bed, sitting beside the girl who had just been gushing over her favorite movie star.

"I mean, maybe in a dark, sinister way, sure," Calista replied crossing her arms over her chest. Alex made a face at the Calista, giggling at how serious she had just become.

"I'm only joking, Kane. Molly is super cute."

The three of them settled into an easy conversation; Ana and Alex talked about the Weird Sisters which was both their favorite band while Calista talked about her favorite films, most of which the other two hadn't seen. They talked so long, that the room that was once a dark forest green was turning brighter by the second. Once they realized how long they stayed up, the three forced themselves to bed, hoping to get enough sleep to get them through the next day.

But before Ana fell asleep, she couldn't help but find the warm glow of the fireplace bittersweet. The fiery red of it pricked her skin and made her warm, but red wasn't turning out to be a welcoming color anymore.

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x oc #bibiana malfoy #the girl who vanished #tgwv 1-2 #tgwv #enemies to friends to lovers #fred weasley smut

4 notes · View notes

saudadeonly · 3 years

Text

burn my heart out: once you’d gone (Chapter 2)

Read on ao3. Part 8, consisting of 3 or 4 chapters.

Death Eater!Sirius Black AU

Lord Voldemort wages war on Hogwarts but he is unaware of the years-worth of battle fought against him.

(or, several instalments following the Battle of Hogwarts with Sirius Black standing on the wrong side)

The Horcrux isn't the only thing Regulus has to face.

Word count: 4530

___

The top of the staircase on the third floor of Hogwarts comes too soon; Regulus and Sirius stop and look at each other. This is where they have to go their separate ways – Regulus up to the seventh floor and Sirius through the passage on this one.

Regulus checks his watch, the one given to him by his parents for his seventeenth birthday. They only have a couple of hours left. Their goodbyes and last-minute preparations before they left the Tonks family behind – despite the vehement protests of entire said family – and all subsequent tasks here at Hogwarts took up a lot of their time.

Sirius’s mind seems to have come to the same conclusion. “Be as quick as you can,” he says, holding out the silver dagger to Regulus. His hand is as steady as his voice. “And take down Nagini.”

Regulus takes the dagger, mindful of the venom absorbed in it, and as soon as he safely stores it away, Sirius uses his free hand to pull on Regulus’s and catch him in a rough hug, his other hand cupping the back of Regulus’s neck. He’s still taller and by now Regulus has given up any hope he might outgrow his brother, this way or another, but his body lacks the strength Regulus once believed him to have. His invincible big brother, fiercer than fire, stronger than death, now as desperately lost as Regulus once was. Human, as he has always been.

“Do your worst,” Regulus murmurs into his shoulder as he fists his hands in the back of his robes, knowing that this might be the last time they see each other standing.

Sirius pulls back and curves his mouth into an almost-smile. “You too,” he says. Before Regulus can turn to go, Sirius catches his forearm, his grip firm. His eyes root Regulus to the spot, maybe because they are softer than his voice, a sliver of that kind, tired man beneath. “Whatever happens, Reggie, this ends today.”

Regulus swallows and nods. However it may end, Sirius will not be the one to fall to his knees first, not if Regulus has anything to say about it.

Sirius steps back and nods, his face smoothed over now, the careful set of his mouth reminding Regulus strangely of Orion. Sirius turns and goes but the image of his face, splashed through a kaleidoscope over their father’s, stays. It is redundant to say that their relationship ended on a bad note because that’s the foundation it was built on from the very beginning but Sirius did not forgive Orion’s misgivings, not even on his deathbed, and he carried that resentment forward – after Regulus’s death, Sirius condemned Walburga. The weight of their demands had bruised his heart so much it could not heal around the mercy asked of him, especially not in the name of their family.

The thing about their family, the great House of Black – they name their children after stars, after these unimaginable, steel-soft pieces forged into fire, and try to bind them, keep them contained to the reaches of their eyes and don’t consider the possibility of going blind with it until their eye-sockets are filled with nothing but stardust, burning, burning. Sirius, they named their heir, the brightest star in the sky, scorching, glowing, and never expected that he would burn bright enough to fill their lungs with smoke, to leave marks shaped like his pain over their skin. Andromeda, named after a constellation, the breaker of chains, a goddamn galaxy because they were more likely to reach its ends before they ever told their children, I love you, I’m proud of you; and they had the gall to fault her when she left them strangling in her discarded chains.

Despite it or maybe because of all of it, Sirius and Andromeda have always been the best of them in all the ways that matter. However much they try to fight against it, the two of them have always been Blacks in more than blood; Sirius and Andromeda with their impeccable postures and vicious hearts, savoir-faire, Lucretia used to say, unmatched, always one step ahead, are Blacks in everything they try to deny, in everything they wish to soften about themselves, down to their teeth, dripping with venom.

Regulus will do whatever it takes to ensure that they get to live up to all that potential, that they get to lace the very foundations of their society with their venom.

With a shake of his head, he pulls himself out of his thoughts and continues up the stairs, casting a notice-me-not charm over himself. It was easy to get lost in his musings with the entirety of his glorious, painful youth surrounding him but he knows better than to let it sweep him away.

By the time he makes it up to the seventh floor, having succeeded in doing so only due to muscle-memory of skipping the tricky steps, the castle is in motion. Students are shuffling down the corridors of all floors, their voices a mix of soft, worried inquiries and confused protests. Regulus doesn’t envy their near future but he knows McGonagall will do everything to keep it intact. He slips past them, as unnoticed as the ghosts drifting beside them; it is, he thinks distantly, a very fitting sort of image.

The wall across from the Troll Tapestry is as unassuming as Andromeda begrudgingly told them it would be. It is hard to imagine the old, mysterious castle conceals one of Voldemort’s greatest secrets so well. Regulus’s heart hammers up to his throat when he walks past the wall, then turns on his heel and repeats it two more times.

I need the place where everything is hidden, he thinks, eyes pressed shut. I need the place where everything is hidden. I need the place where it is hidden.

When he opens his eyes, the wall is built around a door. If he hadn’t been expecting it, he might have thought he's lost it. A moment of hesitation and then Regulus steps forward, pressing his hand over the doorknob, and pushes the door open.

The vast room he steps into has a high ceiling and distant walls but the piles formed around the room, the narrow passages in between make Regulus’s chest constrict uncomfortably despite it. He has not, in over three years, got used to being in tight, enclosed spaces again.

Ignoring the feeling building up, Regulus holds out his wand. “Accio, Ravenclaw Diadem!”

The room remains still. He wasn’t expecting it to work really but it would have been nice to catch a break for once. He stows away his wand and hurries down the first one of the passages. Andromeda wasn’t able to tell him the Diadem’s exact location but she did say she remembered an ugly bust somewhere around it. With a sigh, Regulus sets out to find it.

He doesn’t know how much time passes before he finally catches sight of a chipped bust, resting atop a rickety-looking rack. And directly across from it, a tiara, skewed atop a column of old books. It’s old and unassuming, covered in a layer of dust so thick Regulus wouldn’t have spared a glance otherwise. When he reaches out and wipes the dust away with the tip of his sleeve the words become visible again. Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure.

Out of all of Voldemort’s Horcruxes, this one has to be the cruellest; the cleverness, the knowledge he robbed out of generations of wizards and witches. He reaches for the dagger and braces it above the Diadem. He murmurs a swift apology to Rowena Ravenclaw, followed by one to the Grey Lady, the sweet, distant ghost who sometimes kept him company in the dead hours of the night when he didn’t want to go back to his common room; he had always felt accepted by her, a sort of kinship that came with not belonging anywhere, drifting from one place to the next.

“Expelliarmus!”

The dagger flies out of his hand and lands on the floor several feet away, skittering over the stone. Regulus grabs his wand, halfway turned already, and fires off the first spell that comes to mind. “Stupefy!”

Bartemius Crouch Junior, his fair hair and pale face a stark contrast to his robes, deflects the spell easily and it hits a pile of books to the side, sending up a flurry of singed pages. Regulus cringes at the years of work and knowledge that has just been lost.

“Barty,” he breathes, the air stolen from his lungs, the tightness in his chest coming for an entirely different, still painfully familiar reason now.

Barty has always been more skin and bone than anything else but he is viciously thin now, enough so Regulus thinks he might be able to make him crumple with the ghost of a breath. “I should have known,” he says, his face drawn, his voice a low gravely tone; distantly, Regulus wonders if he’s taken up smoking. “Black never did act accordingly.”

A laugh builds up in Regulus’s throat, an odd, too-sharp sort of sound, but he pushes it down. If Sirius’s reaction to Regulus’s death was all Barty found suspicious about his behaviour over the years, that’s the least of their problems. It’s over now, anyway. “Sirius had no idea,” he says, just in case this goes terribly, terribly wrong and Barty gets to Sirius first. It’s hight time he protected Sirius, for once.

“I don’t believe that.”

Regulus shrugs. “You know we never did like each other a whole lot,” he says, which is true; he doesn't really like Sirius, not most of the time anyway, but he loves him with a ferocity that gods could not oppose. He keeps his wand steady on Barty but he knows he won’t be the first one to fire. He owes Barty that much, at least, that small courtesy of letting him decide what he wants to do. “What are you doing here, Barty?” he asks, his voice soft around the name he hasn’t been able to forget, though not for lack of trying - on the worst nights, he used to tell himself that neither Evan nor Barty would have come with him even if he had asked. But it’s even harder to forget now, when there are no strategies to be relayed, when the embodiment of Regulus’s guilt points his wand at him, that Evan fought. There is no saying that Barty wouldn’t have either, provided he was offered, given that little push of encouragement he always needed to come along.

“The Dark Lord sent me to check on an artefact of utmost importance to him,” Barty explains, frowning. “An artefact that looks curiously like the one you’re holding right now.”

Regulus snorts. “This old thing?” he asks, waving the Diadem around, then tucking it behind his back. “It’s worthless.” He cocks his head, lowers his voice. Somewhere between the study of political language and being Sirius’s brother, he’s learned how to get under people’s skin – and Barty never has been particularly thick-skinned. “Glad to see you climbed the ranks, though.” He lets his mouth quirk up, just the little bit. “Must be nice to be valued so highly by Voldemort.”

Barty flinches and a twinge passes through Regulus; it took him years to be able to say the name himself, to fit his voice around the vowels and not have fear surround them. Regulus uses the blink of a distraction to take the fraction of a step towards the dagger.

“Don’t say his name,” Barty snaps, anger finally rising to his hollow cheeks, painting him fiercer a man than he was. “You taint him, you traitor, how dare you –”

“You sound like Bellatrix.”

Barty’s face drains of colour, as quickly as it rose up. His knuckles, hand gripped around the handle of his wand, have gone white too. “Don’t talk about her,” he says, voice hoarse. His freckles stand out, peppered across his nose and cheeks.

“How is dear Bella? Still so devoted to bloodlust she doesn’t spare you a glance?” It isn’t fair, he knows. Barty has been fascinated by Bella for years and she took him under and used it to the advantage of anything she remotely cared about; if there is one person more at fault for whatever Barty has become than Voldemort and Regulus, it’s Bellatrix. But Regulus knows there is no point in trying to convince Barty to do anything and he has one objective, the only one he has had for years: destroy the Horcruxes. He’s so close now and he won’t slip, won’t let his conscience get in the way.

“Shut up,” Barty growls, taking one slow step closer. “Where did you go, anyway?”

The question gives Regulus pause but he shuffles on his feet as an excuse and gets a bit closer to the dagger. “Away. I could not serve anymore so I left.”

Barty narrows his eyes. “You left,” he says, a painful sort of bemusement crossing his face, “everything. You betrayed everyone. You had no right.”

Regulus’s chest aches. When he speaks, his voice is rawer than he wants it to be; maybe the Inferi clawed it out of him. “What I discovered, Barty, what I had to do – I could not do it anymore.”

“You were the reason I joined.”

Regulus lets his eyes flit closed for a second. When he looks back at Barty, his face is too thin, too lost to ever come close to the boy he was all those years ago; and that’s on Regulus. Barty wasn’t like him or Evan. He was clever and loyal and too stupid to see but he never carried the weight of expectation like they had their whole lives – Regulus, the spare, and Evan, the sole heir. He reminded Regulus of Sirius sometimes, the Sirius of before: desperate to get out from his father’s thumb, to escape his mother’s coddling, but overbearing and messy and misguided as it was, it was still love, still a saving grace that Barty didn’t recognise as privilege. Regulus and Evan took that desperation and painted it in streaks of glory across the inside of Barty’s lids, blinding him enough to lead him astray, twisted its shape until it could almost be called a choice, a sense of belonging.

Then Regulus left and Evan died and it was Barty who stayed. Barty, whose backbone might as well have been made out of clay, free for moulding into any shape the rest wanted him to be.

“I know,” he murmurs.

“Then why did you leave me behind?” Barty shouts and it echoes and echoes so long Regulus is sure this is the only sound that will be heard at his funeral. Maybe it was.

But there it is, the name of Regulus’s nightmares, the title of his fucking biography, why you, why, why, why. Why do you get to go away? Why do you get a happy ending or a happy middle or happy anything? Why do you get to heal?

Because you are good, Valentina, tucked firmly, unapologetically against his side, would whisper into the curls behind his ear, as many times as he asked her to, because you are kind and you deserve it.

You are loved, Andromeda told him sometime before they left, catching the off expression on his face, the desire not to leave the life he had built, you are so loved and you get to have that.

Sirius, altruistic, hypocritical arsehole that he is, would probably tell him not to spout gibberish, that he couldn’t have done anything else unless he wanted to have his insides scraped off of walls afterwards and that he was right to get every little scrap of happiness that he could. Regulus never asked to know for sure.

Because I am selfish, Regulus thinks, knows in his bones to be true, but what he says is, “I’m sorry.”

Barty scoffs, unrepentant, unforgiving. Regulus feels before he sees him strike – he sucks his teeth, a tell-tale sign he’s about to cast a silent spell – but Regulus’s reflexes have dulled, out of use with the years of a quiet life, full of literature and research and Valentina’s smile over a cup of coffee, her softness dulling whatever edges Regulus had retained, and he’s knocked to the side, over a pile of cutlery and broken plates that catch on his robes. He lands on the floor, several feet down the aisle, body pulsing with pain all over. The Diadem is still clutched in his hand, its presence an added weight to his emptying chest, but his wand was thrown out of his reach.

His vision is wobbly, a blurry echo passing after everything he looks at, and he uses his free hand to grapple for purchase on the cold stone. His fingers catch on the cross-guard of the silver dagger and he moves them down to grip onto the handle, its weight a sure, familiar reminder of the only thing he still has left to do.

Barty shouts but his line of fire is obscured by the junk around them and Regulus uses the time it takes for Barty to get around it to stab the dagger directly into the Diadem.

The shriek of the Horcrux’s death is the last thing he hears before the white-hot pain blinds him. Regulus curls up on the floor and sinks into it.

In the cave in the middle of nowhere, permitted by pain and guarded by death, Regulus died slowly. The Inferi were quick to drag him into the water, quick to bleed their fingers into him but their cruelty became patient when they had him, the son of kings, a never-crowned prince, in their kingdom; they took his chin and breathed air into him when he had none left in his lungs, dragged him down slowly, a renaissance sort of image, and Regulus had the half-hysterical thought that he would have still prefered this death to the one his mother would have dealt him if she had found out he had just used the word renaissance. He wondered if he would not die at all but just become one of them, the Dark Lord’s servant even after he died to defy him, if the water would crush his lungs to dust and carry away the remnants of his humanity before their fingers tore him apart. Then it was easier to get lost in his memories than to acknowledge the imminence of his end, his slow dissolution into the embrace of cold, dead hands; so, he remembered.

He remembered Sirius’s hands pressed to his eyes, stooped over on his knees, his back a masterpiece of crisscrossing red lines. He remembered fingers wrapped around his wrist, Narcissa’s words, don’t do this out of duty, and he remembered his answer, shaking off the burn of her hand, perhaps I should do it out of love, like you. He remembered Evan and Barty’s screams of pain as they provided entertainment for the night, the new ones, the fresh blood that should be spilt before the Dark Lord’s feet before it ever blessed their enemies’ sight.

Regulus would have remembered unto death if Sirius hadn’t lit the cave in flames, hadn’t summoned the fury of gods into the tip of his wand; Sirius wouldn’t have managed to come on time at all if it hadn’t been for Kreacher’s magic and devotion –

Through the haze of pain, Regulus remembers now: Kreacher. House-elf magic; always, always cleverer than a wizard’s, only because it was never acknowledged as equally important, and Regulus's saviour since his childhood.

“Kreacher,” he says, gasping through the breath between his screams and there is a pause in the air around him, bated with his heartbeat. Then Kreacher materialises at Regulus’s head, looking down the nose all around him, and not even Barty Crouch Jr is a match for the single-minded fury that is Kreacher at his most vicious.

Barty flies back, flailing through the air, and hits the wall with a hard thud. He slumps down against it, his head lolling to the side.

“Master Regulus,” Kreacher says, his big, wobbly eyes glistening, as his skinny fingers touch Regulus’s shoulder blade. “How can Kreacher help?”

The pain has gone now but its remnants flare up as Regulus struggles to push himself up and brace his weight on his hands. He glances at Barty again, just to make sure he’s still there, then sits back, leaning against an old, crooked wardrobe. “It would appear you have already helped me immensely, old friend,” he says, giving Kreacher a small smile, which takes some effort. Kreacher deserves it, every ounce of effort Regulus has to put in. “Thank you.”

Kreacher glows. It hasn’t been often that they’ve seen each other since Regulus’s debacle at the cave – Kreacher is hardly ever allowed to leave the house – and Regulus has missed his once-closest friend. “Kreacher lives to serve Master Regulus,” he says, ducking into a bow. He procures a goblet of water and hands it to Regulus, who uses it to wash the taste of blood off his teeth.

“Kreacher, do you know of a house-elf called Linsy?”

Kreacher’s face shifts into a sneer. “Linsy didn’t take good care of Master Regulus when he was with her,” he grumbles. “The blood traitor did one thing right, giving her the shirt.”

“I rather think she took excellent care of me. I recovered, didn’t I?” Regulus intones gently. Kreacher’s opinion was formed solely on the basis of one Walburga Black’s and Regulus cannot blame him for being stuck in his ways. It took him a damn long time to fall away and now is not the time to take up a fight against his mother, of all people, too. Kreacher gives a reluctant nod. “I think she works here, at Hogwarts, now.” He hands the goblet back to Kreacher, who Vanishes it, and makes to stand up. It takes him two tries but he’s steady on his feet once he manages; the effects of the Cruciatus, which Regulus was lucky enough not to have experienced for some time now, wear off quickly. “Would you please be so kind as to give her a message for me?”

Kreacher’s face is still sour but he nods and says, “Anything, Master Regulus.”

House-elves are loyal to a fault. They will not, even after having been presented with an article of clothing, stop being devoted to the family they served. Regulus’s memories of Linsy are scarce, made in the shape of blurry, intermittent blinks from nightmares to see her by his side, but she was kind to him and it was obvious she adored the Potters as much as they adored her. Even Sirius, whose track record with house-elves was less than stellar, loved her. Regulus has no doubt she will take on Voldemort himself to get them to safety.

“Tell her the Potter family is in danger. She has to find them and get them away from Hogwarts.” He berates himself for not having considered it sooner. Sirius and Minerva have their work cut out for them as it is but he certainly could have remembered that house-elves exist, in all their manic devotion. “And tell the other house-elves that Hogwarts is being attacked. They should fight for their home or leave before it gets bad.”

Kreacher nods.

“And,” Regulus adds before Kreacher disapparates, “not a word of this to my mother.”

“Yes, Master Regulus,” Kreacher says with a deep bow and disappears.

Left alone in the room once again, Regulus looks around. He doesn’t know how much time he’s lost here and he doesn’t dare check. It doesn’t seem long but time runs differently here and doubly so in times of battle.

He walks a few steps down the row to collect his wand and then back. He stomps down on the remains of the Diadem, grimacing at the dark liquid sticking to his shoes and Vanishing it, and levitates them into the pouch of ruined Horcruxes he’s brought along. He wonders idly how he will fit Nagini’s head into it. They’re so close it makes his head spin.

He picks up the dagger, wiping it clean on an old blanket nearby, and safely tucks it away.

He makes his way around and over the piles of trinkets to get to Barty and takes a moment to just take in the familiar lines of his face. They were friends once. He and Evan might have done an injustice to Barty but it wasn’t ill-intentioned, at least not at the time. They were stupid kids and paid for it in blood.

Regulus crouches down and snatches Barty’s wand out of his limp hand, stashing it into the pocket of his robes, then rummages around Barty's pockets until he finds his mask and puts it away too. “Sorry, Barty,” he murmurs, tapping his own wand to the mop of bright hair to send him into a long, deep sleep. He conjures up thick ropes next and binds Barty’s wrists and ankles with it. Then he pulls out a couple strands of Barty’s hair, uncorks the vial of Polyjuice potion Sirius made him brew for going down to the village and pushes the hair into it. It might be his only shot at getting close to Nagini later on. “You know how it is.”

He considers, briefly, the dangers of leaving him here defenceless but this room is far removed from the main part and not everyone even knows about it. This is possibly the safest place in the entire castle right now. Provided, of course, he reminds himself, that he lives to come back and get Barty back out. Maybe he should write a note.

It takes some effort to get himself up and walk to the door; leaving Barty behind is somehow worse the second time around.

Regulus grabs onto the door handle and opens the door back into Hogwarts. He steps onto the floor of the seventh corridor in his cat form and just barely manages to dodge a large chunk of stone that ends up smashing against the wall next to the door.

A brown-haired boy, green-and-silver tie dark with blood where he has it wrapped around his forearm, sends a jet of red light towards a masked Death Eater that ducks to the side and runs to turn the corner. “Sorry, Uncle Todd!” the boy yells after him, wiping a hand down his dust-streaked face. His voice is cheerful but there is a certain scratch to it, a desperate fall to his eyes that tear Regulus’s heart apart. He knows with sudden clarity that Evan did better by the students than the two of them did by Barty. “I’ll see you for Easter hols, yeah?”

A spell shoots down the corridor and Regulus jumps out to bite at the legs of the first Death Eater that comes out of hiding. He has lost many battles in his life, forfeited them right from the start, but there is no way he will not bleed himself dry to win this one.

#harry potter #regulus black #sirius black #death eater sirius black #not really #but technically #regulus black lives #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #Battle of Hogwarts #Post Hogwarts #First War with Voldemort #harry potter fanfic #in a world three degrees north

7 notes · View notes

terapsina · 4 years

Text

the ones that seek and find (six years in the relationship of harry and luna)

My first actual Harry/Luna fic for @lunaaaalovegreat who wanted me to write something for them. Here goes nothing.

summary:

“You can go when we say you can go, Loony,” the biggest of the bullies says and pulls up her wand higher, now pointing it directly in the girl’s face. Harry doesn’t know the bully’s name but thinks she might be a third year.

A third year who looks about ready to cast a spell at an unarmed first year in a fight that’s three to one. He thinks he’s seen quite enough.

“Hey,” Harry yells to startle them and pulls out his own wand, “leave her alone!”

/or/

By chance of fate Harry Potter meets Luna Lovegood in his second year instead of his fifth. It doesn’t really change anything for the magical world at large but it changes quite a lot for the young witch and wizard themselves. Here are six glimpses into their relationship from the moment they meet until the end of the war.

--- ao3 ---

--- i. - Year 2, January ---

The wizarding world is vast and magical and filled with wonder. And at the end of the day, most of its fate comes down to chance. In this way, it is not at all unlike the muggle world.

Four little boys share a compartment on a train and spend the next seven years becoming the terrors of Hogwarts. Two decades later a mountain troll wanders into a girls’ bathroom instead of some abandoned classroom and so forges a lifetime long friendship between three first years.

And a year after that a twelve-year-old Harry Potter doesn’t feel like going back to the Gryffindor common room to be gawked at by the few people in even his own House who think he opened the Chamber of Secrets. Instead, he goes wandering around the castle, the soles of his feet skidding against the stone floor of the hallway and mind filled to the brim with flashes of resentment.

There’s tittering laughter of more than one person coming from around the corner from Harry and he stops in his tracks as soon as he hears it. There’s something a bit cruel about that sound, something colder than amusement. Something familiar.

Slowly he leans forward to get a glimpse of whatever is waiting for him, what meets him is the sight of a blonde first year with a blue tie, she’s being cornered against the wall of the hallway by what looks to be three of her own housemates. There are wands in their hands and mean looks on their faces.

Harry’s jaw clenches in reaction but for a moment he doesn’t yet know how to proceed.

And then the girl speaks in a voice so serene he almost thinks he’s misread the situation. “We’re gonna be late for Charms.”

He wavers in place, considering if he should just turn around and leave before they notice his presence. But no, he knows what those jeers mean and he knows what bullies look like.

“You can go when we say you can go, Loony.” The biggest of the bullies says and pulls up her wand higher, now pointing it directly in the girl’s face. Harry doesn’t know the bully’s name but thinks she might be a third-year.

A third-year who looks about ready to cast a spell at an unarmed first year in a fight that’s three to one. He thinks he’s seen quite enough.

“Hey,” Harry yells to startle them and pulls out his own wand, “leave her alone!”

“Mind your own-” The girl who had been about to cast starts saying and then almost jumps out of her skin alongside the other two bullies when they turn to see him, looks like the Ravenclaws believe he’s the Heir of Slytherin too. Great.

“I said,” he glares at them “leave her alone.”

For a moment they blink in mute shock, then they scatter like frightened rabbits with a fox on their tails, and despite how that was exactly what he wanted them to do something twists in his stomach. He hates that they’re afraid of him now like he’s actually responsible for releasing the monster that is petrifying other students.

He avoids looking at the girl left behind, almost afraid that the young witch he just tried to help will look just as frightened. But when he looks at her she’s just staring at him with a calm look, head tilted a bit sideways and blinking slowly.

“Hi. I’m Harry.” Harry says, suddenly a bit uncomfortable under that wide-eyed stare, so without knowing what else to say he stares back.

She has messy pale blonde hair falling across her shoulders and down her back, it doesn’t seem to have been combed today, - or possibly the day before that as well. There’s a necklace of tiny pine cones in a strange rainbow of colors hanging around her neck. And she’s staring at him through wide-open eyes, it would almost make her look surprised but the look in them is as serene and measured as it had been when she’d been facing the bullies a minute before. Finally, he notices her holding a stack of books to her chest, each of them seems to have some kind of flower stuck between the pages and hanging over the bindings.

Harry’s not entirely sure what kind of an impression the picture she makes leaves on him but there’s something very loud and strange and interesting about it.

“I know.” She finally says after that extended pause and what were they... oh right, he’d introduced himself. “Everyone has been talking about you, they think you’re the Heir of Salazar Slytherin.”

“Oh.” He mutters, his mood souring again.

“But of course I know that you’re not.” She tells him absently like she hasn’t noticed his reaction at all, or like she has but knows not to focus on it. Harry can’t quite pin her down.

“You do?”

“Yes, it’s quite obvious, Salazar Slytherin was an elf and you’re not an elf, so you can’t possibly be his heir.” The girl says. “And I’m Luna by the way. Luna Lovegood.”

Harry stares at her, eyebrows furrowing. She might be the oddest person he’s met yet - well she would be if he didn’t know the headmaster, - but he’s still inexplicably relieved by her words. It’s nice to know someone outside of Gryffindor believes him too.

Even if that someone is making his head spin a little in confusion.

“What did they want with you anyway? The other girls.”

“Oh, they’re just infested with Wrackspurts,” Luna tells him.

“Wrackspurts?”

“They’re magical creatures that float through the air and get into your head through your ears. They make one quite confused.”

Harry’s not sure if he believes that, he thinks he’s right and they’re just bullies. But then again he doesn’t really know all that much about the magical creatures that are or are not real, so he doesn't think it would be right to dismiss them as fantasy either. After all, he hadn’t known about House Elves before he met Dobby either.

“You said you were late for class?” He says once he realizes he doesn’t know how else to respond.

“Yes but there’s a shortcut through there,” she says and points to a spot that looks like any other spot on the far left wall “I have a few minutes to spare.”

She is however starting to look a bit antsy, arms squeezing the books closer to her chest, so he guesses she really is going to be late and is just being polite now.

“I could come with you, make sure you don’t run into any more girls with... confused heads.” He offers.

“That’s very nice of you, Harry,” Luna says, smiles at him, and starts walking toward that wall, he belatedly notices that she’s also only wearing one shoe on her feet.

“What happened with your shoe?” he asks, a suspicion already very present in his head.

“Oh, the Wrackspurts hid it. It’s okay though, I’ll find it eventually, I always do.”

The Wrackspurts need a lesson in manners and Harry wonders if he can get Fred and George to help him give it.

Luna stops by the wall and before he has time to wonder if there really is a shortcut there Luna has leaned forward, hummed a quick tune he can’t quite identify and the wall is quickly transforming into a doorway.

He follows Luna all the way to Flitwick’s classroom as they chat about things Harry only halfway believes exist. But later after they’ve parted ways and he’s back in the Gryffindor tower being slaughtered in chess by Ron, he realizes it was the first time since he found Mrs. Norris hanging by her tail on that wall that he forgot about being Hogwarts’ pariah.

It was kinda nice, making a new friend. He wonders if tomorrow during breakfast he might find her for a quick chat in the Great Hall.

--- ii. - Year 3, November ---

It’s the evening after Harry finally fully managed to escape the Hospital Wing, and it’s been almost a week since the Quidditch game that ended up introducing his broom to the Whomping Willow but Harry still can’t stop mournfully staring at the broken remains of his Nimbus 2000.

It seems so stupid to feel like crying because of a broom but it was the first brand new thing that really belonged to him that he loved. It was his in a way that nothing else has ever been before. And now because of some Dementors, it’s nothing but kindling for the fire.

Not that he could ever bring himself to burn it - not that he’s allowed to anyway, the broom is interwoven with so many charms that setting it on fire would probably make it explode or something. He wishes he was just allowed to keep it at the bottom of his school trunk but apparently it counts as a safety hazard and the school needs to dispose of it safely.

So here he sits on the seating around the Quidditch pitch, the splinters on top of the blanket in front of him, with Ron and Hermione on his right and Luna on his left, waiting until he can bring himself to turn them in to Madam Hooch so she can do whatever it is they do with old and broken brooms.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Hermione tells him and reaches past Ron to pat him on his shoulder.

He nods at her in thanks but can’t quite hide the pained grimace that follows it.

“Yeah Buddy, I’m really sorry.” Ron echoes her and gently bumps his side with his elbow.

“It’s okay,” Harry says past the Bezoar stuck in his throat and squares his shoulders to begin getting up, it’s just a broom, he should stop acting like it’s the end of the world.

“Hey, Harry?” Luna finally interrupts him for the first time since they sat down almost fifteen minutes ago, she’d been sitting quietly beside him the entire time, her elbows occasionally touching his own as one of them moved. He was just leaning forward to start wrapping the splinters back into the folds of the blanket but at her voice, he stops to look at her.

She’s got a thoughtful twist to her head like she’s considering an idea she’s been musing over.

“Yeah?”

“Can I take that piece of the handle?” She asks pointing at one of the larger remaining pieces of his Quidditch broom.

“Why?” He asks and is echoed by the voices of his two best friends asking the same question, each of them with a slightly different inflection. Ron sounds gobsmacked. Hermione, exasperated. And Harry just curious.

Luna doesn’t answer any of them, just keeps staring at him in that assuring and very calming way she has.

“Sure?” He finally tells her and passes her the splinter she had pointed to.

Luna takes it from his hand with a smile and jumps forward for a quick hug before skipping away. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stay in place, watching her leave back towards the castle.

“That girl is so strange,” Ron tells him, a flabbergasted look on his face.

“I know,” Harry says with a grin. That’s why he likes her.

“Ready, Harry?” Hermione asks after letting out a long sigh, Harry knows she doesn’t really know how to react to Luna, they’ve been friends with her for a year now and he knows that Hermione doesn’t dislike Luna, that for the most part, they get along okay, but that sometimes she kinda drives Hermione a little crazy.

And Harry’s never going to say it, he’s not stupid, but he sometimes thinks it’s good for Hermione to be left wrong-footed as her logic crashes against Luna’s irregularity. It pulls her out of her head when she gets so stuck in obsessing over her schoolwork that even Ron and Harry can’t quite manage to make her come up for air.

“As I’ll ever be.” He says, putting away his musings and finding himself suddenly better prepared for what he needs to do as the three of them finally head off towards the broom shed.

---

It’s about two weeks later that Luna finds Harry in the library and drops in front of him a little red parcel decorated with doodles of lions and snitches he’s pretty sure Luna did herself.

“What’s that?” He asks, picking up his head from the books on the Patronus Charm he’s been going through on Professor Lupin’s suggestion.

“A holiday gift.”

“It’s not really Christmas yet?” He says but takes the package into his hands anyway.

“I know. But I finished making it and Daddy and I are going to be in the Norwegian Forests looking for Heliopaths this Christmas, and it seems rather cruel to make an owl fly that far with a package. So, happy early Christmas, Harry.” Luna says and sits down on the other side of the table from him.

He slowly unwraps the package, not wanting to tear up her little drawings, and feels something in his chest tightening and warming up unexpectedly as soon as he finds himself looking at a miniature carving of his Nimbus 2000. It’s even painted the same colors as his broken broom.

“Wait.” Harry flings up his head to look at Luna, realization dawning. “Is this why you wanted that piece of my broom?”

Luna nods seriously at him and looks directly back, face filled with honesty and voice as genuine as he’s ever heard it. “It’s really sad to need to throw away something you love. I thought you’d like to keep a part of it, even if it’s only a piece of woodcarving.”

“Thanks, Luna,” Harry tells her, eyes filling up with the sort of tears he’s almost not too embarrassed to shed.

--- iii. - Year 4, December ---

He leaves Cho in the Owlery, his face flushed with mortification and feeling like he’d like nothing better than for the earth to swallow him whole.

The pretty Quidditch player turning him down stings a bit, - alright, a lot - but that’s not really why he’s running away, he doesn't think. It’s just, well, he’d been trying to pick up enough courage to ask Cho to the Yule Ball for ages and now he doesn’t think he’ll be able to summon up any kind of will to ask anyone else. And as one of the Champions, he’s not allowed to go by himself, which honestly sounds like a lot more attractive option.

So once he’s back in the castle he titters in place, unable to decide where to go now. He could go find Ron so they can simmer in misery together but that won’t really save him from whatever Professor McGonagall will do to him if he doesn’t find a date for the first dance.

Which leaves him with a very narrow list of other options. Really it leaves him with only two.

And Hermione will definitely roll her eyes at him for waiting until the last minute instead of dealing with it months ago when the ball was first announced, so he decides his best bet is to head toward the Ravenclaw common room instead. He just hopes he’s fast enough not to accidentally run into Cho again.

“What can’t talk but will reply when spoken to?” The knocker asks once he’s walked all the way up the spiral staircase.

“Don’t know.” He says and ignoring the indignant squawk of the bronze eagle uses it to knock on the door.

After about half a minute the head of some upper-year Ravenclaw comes into Harry’s line of sight past the edge of the door, the boy rolls his eyes and vanishes just as quickly. Harry just sighs, used to it by now.

A minute or two later Luna comes out to meet him.

“Hey, Harry. What’s up?”

“I need your help, do you have a minute?”

“Sure, I was gonna go down to the lake to paint something in a bit anyway, we can go together if you want.” She offers.

The lake is all the way on the other side of the castle from the Owlery so he nods and waits as she goes back into the common room to grab her art supplies and a set of warmer robes. Once she’s back, her warm Ravenclaw scarf wrapped loosely around her neck and her fluffy Pygmy Puff earmuffs - a gift from Ginny for her last birthday - on her head, he follows her down the stairs.

Harry breathes a sigh of relief once they’re outside and haven’t run into either Cho or Cedric, - who he at the moment doesn’t quite feel like seeing either, even though he does like Cedric.

They cast a pair of warming charms and he drops to sit beside her on the ground, there are a few minutes of comfortable silence while he watches her setting up her workstation. Not that it can really be called that, Luna likes to put all her paints around her in what looks like the randomest of orders while the canvas rests on top of her crossed legs.

He’s never quite been able to understand how she doesn’t get uncomfortable within five minutes. But he’s seen her rest like that for hours at a time as she paints whatever comes to her mind so he’s stopped thinking all that much on it by now.

“So, what did you want to talk about, Harry?” Luna finally asks as she uses a spell from her wand to start mixing up three kinds of blues together with some pink.

He opens his mouth but no sound seems to want to come out so he decides to change the subject instead. “What did you want to paint, anyway?”

“A Crumple-Horned Snorkack.” She says and looks at him, waiting and clearly not at all fooled.

Harry’s fingers start twitching in his lap.

“I tried to ask Cho to the ball but she’s going with Cedric,” Harry says in what seems almost one breath. “And McGonagall will kill me if I don’t get a date because the Champions are supposed to open the dance.”

“Alright,” Luna answers but doesn’t turn back to her work, clearly aware that he hasn’t gotten to his point yet.

“Will you go with me to the Yule Ball, please?” He rushes out and then blinks, surprised, he was just going to ask her if she knew anyone who didn’t have a date yet but now that the words are out he realizes this is the perfect solution. Luna is his friend. Going with Luna will be fun and he won’t spend the whole evening with someone he barely knows. The only other girl he could say that about would be Hermione, and he’s not stupid, Ron might be an oblivious idiot about it right now but Harry knows that if he asked Hermione his best friend would kill him. “We can go as friends.”

“I don’t really have a dress robe.”

“Oh.” He says, disappointed.

“But I guess Daddy can send me one of Mom’s old ones, I think I have enough time to alter it to fit me if we hurry,” Luna says and looks at him, a measuring sort of look on her face like she’s considering how serious he’s being. Then she seems to nod to herself and smiles at him. “Alright Harry, I’ll go to the Yule Ball with you. As friends.”

And Harry smiles back at her, for the first time kind of excited about going.

--- iv. - Year 5 - April ---

Since the latest number of Educational Degrees, the number of detentions Umbridge has been assigning to students has grown. But until now he’s only noticed some of the upper years with bindings around one of their hands as evidence to the same kind of lessons she’s been failing to teach Harry all year.

But that remains the case only until Harry turns a corner on his way to the Room of Requirement one day to set up for the latest DA lesson and runs into Luna and a crying first-year Hufflepuff. The boy is clutching his hand to his chest while Luna’s kneeling on the ground in front of him and trying to calm him down.

“It hurts,” Harry hears the boy sniffle.

“Luna?” He says and then to make sure he understands the situation adds - “Did Umbridge-?”

“Yes,” Luna says in a voice that he’s not sure he’s ever heard from her, it’s sharp and cold and furious.

Harry gets the feeling.

He wavers in place for a moment uncertain of what to say or do to help the upset little Firstie calm down, or even if he should just go find someone better equipped for it, - like Hermione or a Professor, - but then decides to follow Luna’s lead and joins her on the floor in front of him.

“What’s your name?” Harry asks as gently as he can manage.

“Billy Wardyworth.” The boy whispers wetly.

“Can you show me your hand, Billy?” Harry asks, starting to rifle through his pockets for something that could help - he hasn’t left the Common Room without it since his own detentions started getting bad, - and grimaces once the boy does. The skin is swollen red, there’s no blood or visible words yet but he can tell just by looking that Billy hadn’t gotten away with just a few lines.

He pulls out the little bottle of Murtlap Essence that Hermione made for him and quickly unscrews the top. “Here, this should help.”

Luna seems to understand what he’s doing because she takes out her wand to cut away the edge of her sleeve with a spell and as soon as Harry’s done applying the soothing solution on Billy’s skin takes over to wrap it securely around the boy's hand.

“Better?” Luna asks once she’s done too.

Billy nods, still sniffling but starting to wipe the tears from his face with his unhurt hand.

“What happened? I haven’t seen Umbridge forcing that sick quill on anyone younger than a fifth year.” He asks Luna now that Billy is starting to look a bit better. Not that he thinks their High Inquisitor is doing it out of any kind of moral standpoint, his guess would be more along the lines of her being aware that it might be the thing that pushed the rest of the teachers over the edge into just killing her.

The feeling McGonagall has been projecting is certainly that the only reason she hasn’t already is because getting sent to Azkaban would leave her students entirely unprotected.

“You know she’s been reading all incoming and outgoing mail right?”

“Yeah?” he says, it’s why he hasn’t written Sirius anything in ages.

“Billy’s dads didn’t.”

“What did she read?” He asks, his stomach sinking with a bad feeling but Luna doesn’t say, just shakes her head angrily.

“Papa got bitten last year,” Billy says, eyes on the floor and pulling his knees closer to his chest. “Dad was just letting me know everything went okay during the full moon so I wouldn't worry. He’s been doing it every month.”

And Umbridge is the one who drafted that anti-werewolf legislation that Sirius told him about. Of course, she’s also the kind of person who would take out her hatred for the boy’s father’s very existence on an eleven-year-old.

Harry starts cursing but when Billy flinches Harry’s insides twist in guilt at realizing how the Firstie might have taken it.

“I’m glad your dad is okay,” Harry says, trying to fix it and once Billy looks back at him hopefully he for good measure adds -”Umbridge had no right to do that.”

“Thanks.” The boy says.

Harry and Luna share a look and slowly get to their feet.“Come on, Billy.” Luna says, extending her hand to help the boy get up too. “I’ll walk you to Professor Sprout, I’m sure she’ll figure out how to make certain Umbridge can’t give you any more detentions with her.”

Harry catches her hand when she starts to turn. “Want me to come along?”

“No, we’ll be alright,” Luna says, squeezing his hand and smiling a bit weakly at him. “You’ve got stuff to set up.”

“Okay. Stay after?” He says vaguely, not that he thinks Billy would tell someone about Dumbledore’s Army but they did all sign the scroll. And he’s not at all enthusiastic about finding out exactly what kind of spell-work Hermione did on that parchment.

“Alright,” Luna says and then leaves, the little boy tucked against her side.

--- v. - Year 6 - July ---

The funeral happens on a cloudy Monday morning. Harry’s head feels like it’s moving through sludge or maybe through something more sticky, like toffee made by Hagrid.

He barely notices the world around him, though somewhere at the back of his mind he’s aware that to his right Hermione is crying in Ron’s arms. That Luna’s head is tucked into the hollow of Harry’s neck and her hair is tickling his face with the breeze from the wind. That somewhere behind him Ginny is squeezed between Fred and George who showed up this morning in the company of the rest of the Order. That Neville is standing there too, pale-faced and strong-jawed with hands around himself and tears running over his cheeks.

Harry himself isn’t crying.

Harry’s mind is too full of what he needs to do now to cry. And whenever a flash of green lights up in his mind, whenever he sees Dumbledore pleading and then falling, whenever he sees Snape killing him, the grief in his chest gets burned up by rage.

But he knows he doesn’t have time for that either.

He needs to find the Horcruxes and destroy them and he doesn’t even know where to start. They’re at war now. He knows that technically they’ve been at war since the end of last year, or even since Cedric died in that cemetery in what now feels like lifetimes ago. But now that Dumbledore is dead it’s really, truly here in a way it hadn’t been before.

And the idea that it all now rests in his hands is crushing.

But he has no choice, he’s going to need to find a way to do it, to kill Voldemort. To save his friends. To save everyone.

He barely hears the service. Barely notices as it finally ends and everyone gets up and starts walking back for the castle or out towards Hogsmeade.

He does notice it as Luna pulls on his elbow to change the direction of their steps and head for the lake. Harry lets her guide him, exchanging a last tired look with Hermione and Ron when they stay on their path.

Minutes later they’re alone, watching the play of wind against the surface of the water when Luna speaks.

“You’re not coming back to Hogwarts next year.”

“No.” He says, not at all surprised that Luna knows that, she doesn’t know about the pieces of Voldemort’s soul that he has to destroy but she’s the most observant person he’s ever met, she’s probably read his plans in his face.

“Okay.” She says.

He looks at her and feels his heart starting to hurt as soon as he does. Through the past year he’s started to notice his feelings for Luna changing, Merlin they might have been changing even longer, maybe since before he asked her to the Yule Ball in his fourth year. He just knows he’s almost said something a hundred times by now only to chicken out at the last moment. Because he cares about Luna so much and he doesn’t quite know how to risk their friendship on what feels like the most terrifying gamble ever.

And now that he can’t because it wouldn't be fair, he wishes he’d taken at least one of the opportunities that had come before.

He wishes he knew what she would have said.

“But Harry?” Luna says, staring up into his eyes. Her own eyes, wide and full to the brim with a kaleidoscope of thoughts.

“Yeah?” He asks, a little breathless. Her eyes are so beautiful.

“After you’ve done what you have to. When it’s possible. Come back then,” she says and he knows she’s not talking about Hogwarts. He’s not sure exactly what lays behind her words, and it would hurt either way right now so he chooses not to linger there and just nods.

Then Luna smiles sadly at him, and leans in to place a quick kiss on his cheek that leaves a line of burn from the spot on his skin straight into his heart and then hugs him so tightly it’s almost hard to breathe. His own arms clutch around her like he’s afraid to let go.

“Goodbye, Harry,” Luna whispers into his ear.

“Goodbye, Luna.”

--- vi. - Year 7 - May ---

“We did it,” Ron exclaims in dazed shock. Like it hasn’t really hit yet. Harry looks at him and then has to look away because there are tears in his eyes and behind the shock, there’s the avalanche of grief just waiting for Ron to slow down enough to be buried in.

Fred is dead.

So are Remus and Tonks.

They did it. They won, Voldemort is finally dead, his Death Eaters have been defeated and they’ve won the war. But the Great Hall is filled with dead kids and dead members of the Order and somehow the price feels too high. He knows the price was always going to be too high and yet now that he has space enough to let that truth crash into him he doesn’t know what to do with it.

So he doesn’t, instead, he wraps one arm around Ron, the other around Hermione and then they hold each other up long enough so that they’ll be able to stand on their own. Even if only just for a few more hours.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, - tears of grief mixing with tears of relief, Hermione’s hair in his face, and Ron’s hand squeezing his arm, - before he notices that they’re not alone. That there are three more survivors by the window behind them.

But finally, he notices them, Neville, Ginny, and Luna, the trio who held up Hogwarts while Harry, Ron, and Hermione were hunting for a way to save their world. The people who years ago went with him into the belly of the beast trying to save Sirius.

He can’t believe they all survived. He’s so glad that all six of them survived.

He smiles at them and laughs. Suddenly so giddy he doesn’t even know what’s coming over him.

“Hey,” he chokes out and then suddenly their hug grows by three and all of them are giggling like they’ve been hit by overpowered cheering charms. They’re all bloody, injured, and dirty with sweat. And they’re alive, and it’s over, and it hurts but it’s also the best feeling ever and Harry hasn’t felt this free in- maybe ever.

There’s tears running over his cheeks and a smile on his face and he doesn’t know what tomorrow looks like.

---

Turns out tomorrow is cold and windy and the sunrise by the lake is the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a year. The sky is red and golden and blue and purple all mixed together.

They’d all spent the night at Hogwarts. Not all of them having anywhere else to go, many of their homes having been compromised and destroyed and burned down months ago. It was so strange, sleeping in the Gryffindor dormitory after so long as if nothing had changed, except that there were adults, - even parents, - down in the common room.

Harry had woken up first and restless he’d left before anyone else was even stirring.

Now he’s by the very edge of the lake, his back to the destruction of much of the castle and eyes on the sky. Admiring something he hasn't had time or heart to look at in what feels like years.

When she comes to join him he doesn’t feel surprised. It almost feels like he was waiting.

“Hey, Luna,” he says as soon as she drops beside him and slides her hand around his elbow, leaning her head against his shoulder. He slips the fingers of his hand through hers and smiles when she squeezes their palms together.

“Hi, Harry,” Luna says, toeing off her shoes and socks, - each a different color, he notices, his heart clenching at this reminder of Dobby - and sticking them into the water.

Her head is warm against his cheek and his mind snags on the memory of the last time she was in his arms. Not yesterday when he had arms full of friends and Luna was just one of them but before that when he was regretting never having said anything, never taking any of the opportunities handed to him.

This feels like another of those moments.

And this time he decides to be brave.

“Luna?” he says and turns his head to look at her, their faces only inches apart when Luna turns her own head too. “I-”

Words fail him but slowly he picks up his free hand and tucks her hair behind her ear, carefully so that it doesn’t snag against her radish earring and lingers there.

Luna’s mouth twists into a little knowing smile that’s hard to misinterpret and then she leans forward and all Harry has to do is finish breaching the distance before his lips touch hers and his mind comes to a slow gentle stop.

Luna’s lips are warmer than the sunrise he’d just been admiring. They move slowly against his like she’s exploring this feeling alongside him, or like she’s searching for proof of one of her strange creatures and the answer is somewhere inside him.

His heart beats slow and steady but also impossibly loudly in his ears. And his entire world narrows down to Luna’s lips against his, Luna’s hand in his, the side of Luna’s face against the palm of his hand, and the softness of her hair between his fingers.

A lifetime later when they pull away from each other and the world slots back into place he doesn’t feel any different. He’s still exhausted, and a bit lost and mourning for far too many friends but he’s also just a little bit less alone.

“Thank you for coming back, Harry,” Luna says and moves back into his side, chin resting against his shoulder.

He smiles.

They stay like that for a minute and then Harry finds himself wondering out loud what he hasn’t let himself consider in his head. “What are we going to do now?”

“What do you want to do?” Luna asks, voice measured and thoughtful.

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t think I do either,” Luna says. “But won’t it be wonderful to find out?”

He thinks about that. About how until now he’d only known that he either had to kill Voldemort or die trying when he didn’t know what he’d do after the war because there was no ‘after the war’. Now his future is wide open and he has no idea what he wants to do with it but he does have choices, - chances, - in front of him that he didn’t before.

He could join the Aurors like he planned even though it no longer feels like as attractive an option now that he’s spent so long fighting. But he could. Or he could think more about Hermione mentioning once during DA how he’d make a good teacher. Or he could join Luna if she still wants to go off exploring the world and finding new magical creatures. It might be nice to take a vacation away from Britain.

He could play professional Quidditch. Or help the Weasleys fix their home. Or get to know his godson. Or help Hermione find her parents.

The future is just a hand’s reach away now and it all looks so amazing.

“Yeah,” he muses aloud and pulls Luna closer, “it really will be.”

#lunarry #luna x harry #harry x luna #luna lovegood #harry potter #hp fic #lunarry fic #fanfic #mine #otp: nargles in the mistletoe

86 notes · View notes

centuryofdean · 4 years

Text

When Lightning Strikes - Chapter 17

Author Note:: So sorry for the delayed update. I have been going through some issues from work, to my relationship, to my mode of transportation--I haven’t even had the urge to read fanfiction let alone write it. Things are starting to smooth out now so hopefully we can get this story finished!

Author Disclaimer:: The Hobbit, Middle Earth and its characters are not mine. I take no credit. The story line and even some dialogue–also not mine. Instead I claim my Original Character Laurel and the adjustments to the story line.

Summary:: From when Laurel Took was small she dreamed of a man. Every time she dreamed of him, he could not see or hear her. Over time they are able to communicate–but he’s been dreaming about her too. Finally after years of anticipation Laurel takes the leap and kisses him. Only for her to wake up and dread the real world. Then lightning strikes and she finds herself in a familiar place, with a familiar face.

Rated:: M for Mature. Please do not read this story unless you are 18+. NSFW.

Warnings:: Language, Violence and Scenes of Sexual Nature.

Pairing:: Kili x OC (Laurel)

Kili

Most of the conversation that was transpiring around us blurred with my breathing. That and most of it was muffled due to the large amount of fish that was pilled around me. A deep shiver started from my bones and out to the outer layer of my skin. Another deep stabbing pain radiated from my thigh were the orcs arrow pierced it just mere hours ago.

How terribly foolish it was of Laurel to jump into the fray of battle to pull the leaver. Everyone in the company was grateful for her action. We were sitting in plain sight and vulnerable. Though I wished someone else had done the act, I should have done it. There was no question in my mind when I jumped to her aid. I did not know an orc was aiming for her, but I almost sung with relief when I felt the arrow's hot iron in my veins.

She was safe. If I had not interfered that arrow would have struck right to her middle.

Suddenly my barrel was knocked to the side. The act sent me sliding across the wooden floor beneath, aided with the slickness of the fish.

Each of us rose from the barge to follow the man. Once Bilbo helped Laurel up I took over and grabbed her hand to pull her with me. Walking without a grimace or a limp was fairly difficult, though I could not let her see how affected I was. I must be strong and reliable. A child taller than the company ran towards us, "Da! Our house, it's being watched!"

Bard instructed us to get into the water. The ice cold took my breath away. Laurel shivered, in turn I tried to pull her closer to give her some of my heat. We swam underneath the walkway under Bard, following him as he went. It was hard to keep your head tilted just right to breathe and to swim with enough speed to keep up with his brisk walk. Somewhere along the line he must have given instructions elsewhere to someone on where to go.

A soft knock could be heard somewhere above. Dwalin grunted and pulled himself up through an opening above us. "If you speak of this to anyone, I'll rip yer arms off," he snarled at someone on the other side. Bilbo followed, struggling as I tried to push him upwards. I sank beneath the water myself, coming up and gasping for air. Laurel followed next while I repeated the action.

"Da…why are there dwarves coming out of our toilet," a small girl called out above me.

A toilet?

Once we were out of the water and led up the stairs into Bard's home, we were offered blankets and clothing to change into. Laurel disappeared with the small girl children into another room to change. Each of us stripped and re-clothed in the man's clothes. They were large and barely fit in the right places.

Eventually Laurel returned to me. I would not settle for her to take place next to me, and she struggled while I placed her in my lap. "Kili," she hissed softly while placing her hands on my chest.

Idly my hand rose to play with the courting braid in her hair, fingers tracing the bead. "What is it little doe," I asked softly.

Slowly her harsh gaze softened. "It’s not appropriate for me to sit on you like this. Especially in front of everyone," she whispered while she tried to look and see who was staring.

"We are cold. Only offering comfort to one another," I replied curtly, "it is not as if I am caressing you or placing my lips on your skin."

Thorin's voice cut out through the rest of the company. "A Dwarvish Wind-Lance."

Silence became over the company as he paced back and forth in the home.

"You look as if you've seen a ghost," Bilbo's soft voice came over the rest.

Balin cleared his throat as he looked at the lance as well, "He had. The last time we saw such a weapon, the city was on fire. It was the day that Smaug came. The day that he destroyed Dale, the bowman of the city was called upon to kill the beast.

"The dragon's hide is tough, tougher than that of the strongest armor. Only a black arrow could have pierced that hide. Few of these arrows were ever made."

Thorin snorted rudely. The sound was that of insult. "Had the aim of men been true that day, much would have been different," he scowled. My eyes lingered on my own Halfling archer. Her eyes were busy working over the house, taking in everything. They landed above the hearth of the fire, green pines lighting with discover. All that was there was hanging pots and pans.

The boy spoke up, distracting me, voice strong and assured, "You will know that Girion hit the dragon. He loosened a scale under the left wing of the beast. One more shot and he would have killed it."

This is not something that I would doubt myself. The only person I had met personally that could shoot just as well as me or better was Laurel. Sometimes she did not realize just how true her aim was. Without thinking on it long, she killed two trolls and shot bustards out of the sky. All the while being stealthy and quiet. Granted her excellent archery skills were probably instinct from her Elvish traits, but Smaug is meant to be a large dragon. The lance was powerful enough, so aim just had to be well enough to pierce the beast in it's large chest. A skilled human could do it.

Dwalin genuinely smiled for the first time in a long time. "That is only but a fairy story lad. Nothin' more. The beast is unharmed and sleepin' in that there mountain."

"Where are our weapons we were promised," Thorin asked.

Bard left and shortly returned with wet weapons. If you could even call them that. They were clearly handmade and unsuitable. The things were liable to fall apart and not even pierce skin with the hardest swing. Even the confused look on Laurel's face told tales of her hesitance to accept these weapons.

With our escape from Mirkwood, Laurel and Bilbo were able to retrieve us the majority of our weapons. Fighting the elves and orcs had us loosing almost half. Thankfully Laurel had her sword, bow, and arrows. Unfortunately my own broke in my barrel while flowing down the river.

"These are a joke," Bofur hollered over the rest of the complaints.

Bard was covered in rage, "You will not find better outside the city armory. All weapons are held under lock and key."

Eventually an argument broke between uncle and the man. Laurel had long left me to trail along the home in her child dress. It was odd, seeing her in something that was not meant for a woman but a small girl. It almost gave her a childlike appearance. If I had not known she was a grown woman (in the eyes of men) then I would have thought she was in her early to late puberty. After everything I had seen and heard from her lips, I knew better. Laurel was clearly full grown and beautiful.

"Thorin," Laurel hissed from the corner of the room, stopping the argument quickly. "I've seen you kill an orc with your bare hands just hours ago. Bard has done what we asked of him, and paid for, and was even kind enough to give us clothes and warmth. It is very rude to continue to berate him."

Surprisingly enough uncle held his tongue and shot a look of disdain to Bard and not Laurel. The act itself had my eyebrows high and questioning. Fili seemed just as surprised, if not more. Laurel was not a favorite of Thorin's, and neither Fili nor I spoke to him in such a way. Bard grunted and fled from the room, telling his son in hushed whispers that we were not to leave the house. Ideally I would not want to leave at the moment anyway. It was dark and I was tired greatly. The pain in my thigh throbbed harshly, causing me to hiss in the back of my throat. In moments Laurel returned to me, pressing my hair out of my face to hold it softly.

"Would you like something for the pain," she asked.

"'Tis alright," I muttered, "I will survive. You should not talk to uncle like that. Especially in front of the company."

At my words he materialized next to us.

"She was right," he grunted. "He did what was asked, what he was paid for. Tonight we need to sneak into the armory and get those weapons."

Did Thorin just say Laurel was right? With his words my eyes grew and landed on the beauty. Dwalin and Balin called uncle over to discuss the next move of tactic.

Fili slumped next to me, elbows on knees as he peered at Laurel with deep questioning eyes. "What witch craft did you bestow on him," he asked in all seriousness.

"Yes what craft," I muttered along, "and when should I start to question my hearts yearning for you as true or magic?"

Her jaw dropped, hands on hips as her brow furrowed in disbelief. "I am not a witch! I don't know why he is suddenly being nice to me," she whispered the last part.

"They are right," Ori looked perplexed, "it is pretty odd that he suddenly has taken a liking to you. Let alone let you talk to him in such a way. Even if you did save his life."

She huffed and trailed off into the kitchen where the children were standing around cleaning or talking quietly to themselves. I could make out her speaking and introducing herself to them. Every once in a while I could hear her speak up to an unnecessary level, or blocking us from view with her body altogether.

On the other side of the room I could hear Thorin speak loudly of his plans to steal weapons from the city. "Go tell him that he is being too harsh and loud with his theft," I nudged my brother, "the children will hear and tell Bard. He will try and stop us. Laurel is trying to distract them."

I watched as Fili did what I mentioned, and smiled when I saw Thorin's lips twitch at the sight of my love working to help us.

The next hour passed slowly, though over time we were all dry and getting ready to depart. Laurel convinced the boy to lend her a pair of his trousers and shirts. After she changed we rose to leave and carry out our plan.

"Where are you going," the boy stood in the doorway as we tried to exit.

"Please move boy," Balin asked kindly, "we were given what we asked for and paid rightfully for it. We are due to leave and continue on our journey."

The young man shook his head and extended his arms out to either side of the door, "Da said you are not to leave, so you will not leave."

"Bain," Laurel gently grabbed his arms and lowered them, "I'm sorry but we do have to leave. We can't stay. Your father won't blame you for us going, you can't stop us either."

Eventually he nodded and left our exit. The darkness of the night covered our slight forms, but it did not stop the thundering of boots across the wooden planks. No one even knew where to look to begin with. Either way we walked as quietly as we could to find the city armory.

We came upon a large rickety building fort of sorts that was made of wood and bolts. About three dwarves high was a smallish window. Nori heaved Dori on top of his shoulders. "Lass, could ye climb in through the window and let us in through the door," Bofur offered his hand to her. Laurel took it readily and stifled a scream when she was tossed into the air and caught buy Dori. The dwarf heaved her by the feet and pushed her up and to the window. In the dark I could make out her lithe form disappear into the shabby shack.

Moments later the door creaked open softly, revealing my little doe. Half of the company stayed behind to keep a look out while Thorin, Fili, Dwalin, Laurel, and myself started to gather weapons.

Inside there were enough weapons to suffice for a small army of fifty or so. If each member had one sword and smaller weapons apiece. Laurel started to gather all that she could hold, I attempted to take them from her. "Let me carry, I can hold more," I whispered.

"Are you sure? I saw you limping across the walkways," she narrowed her eyes at me.

"Yes," I muttered annoyed. In moments I fought the weapons out of her hands and started to descend the stairs.

Suddenly the searing pain blossomed into something uncontrollable, and I gasped, feeling my leg give out. It happened so quickly but it felt as though ages passed while I fell down the flight of stairs. Each step hit me on the way down, and I could feel swords slicing at my clothes and nicking my skin. What was most worrying was all the noise of my body falling and the metal tinging together made.

Two moments of silence passed. Whistles started to ring through the air, killing any silence we had. Feet hammered down the wooden walkways towards us. Guards were pointing swords and staffs with knifes in our faces. Laurel of course stood in front of me to protect me from the weapons. Silly woman.

One guard grabbed her by the wrist and attempted to yank her away from me. Dwalin, who was closest, jumped and knocked the weapons away from his face to stand in front of her and deter the guard from his actions. "She ain't goin' nowhere, and do not point weapons at a lady you mongrel," he muttered knocking away more spears pointed at us.

Slowly they rounded us up one by one and started to march us to the center of the town, in front of a large brick building. A small greasy man poked his head out, looking alarmed before going back in where he came from. Soon another large bulbous man returned outside with him.

"What is the meaning of this," the larger man stated.

The captain of the guard stood forward, "We caught them stealing weapons from the armory sire."

"Ah, enemies of the state!"

Dwalin tore his way forward to growl at the man, "Hold yer tongue! You do not know to whom ya speak. This is no criminal, this is Thorin! Son of Thrain! Son of Thror!"

Uncle laid a gentle hand on his friend and came into view to speak as well. "We are the dwarves of Erebor. We have come to reclaim our homeland! I remember this town and the great days of old. Fleets of boats carrying fine silks and gems. This was center of all trade in the North, not some peasant forsaken town!

"I would see those days return. We would send wealth and riches from the great flowing halls of Erebor!"

Cheers started to erupt from the people that gathered around us. It seemed that everyone in the town had awoken to see all the commotion. Laurel was holding onto my waist, resting her head on my chest. Without even realizing it I was giving her the heft of my weight. Softly I tried to stand straighter and hold my own.

"Death," Bard's voice echoed around us, "that is what you will bring to us Master Dwarf! Dragon-fire and ruin that will surely come when you awaken the beast. It will destroy us all. You have no right, no right at all to enter that mountain!"

Thorin advanced on the stairs leading up to the building so that he was eye to eye with the tall man Bard.

"I have the only right," he muttered darkly. It was enough to raise the hairs on my neck. "I speak to the Master of the men of the Lake. Will you see us fulfill this prophecy? Will you share in the great wealth of the dwarves of Erebor? What say you?"

The large bulbous man opened his arms wide, chuckling as he spoke, "I say unto you Thorin Oakenshield… welcome! Welcome thrice more, King under the Mountain!"

I felt Laurel hug me a little tighter.

Previous Chapter << Chapter 16: Lucid Trickery

Next Chapter >> Chapter 18: Likeness of One is not the Other

#the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #kili x oc #kili x reader #kili #kili durin #kili fanfiction #the hobbit fanfic #kili fanfic #when lightning strikes

11 notes · View notes