#baron quinn x omc
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A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing
Summary: Sunny has noticed Jade's habits with one of his Captains as of late, and decides to inform Quinn about it. Neither one of them expects what happens next.
Pairing(s): Quinn X Original Male Character, Ryder X Jade
Warnings: Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Major Character Death, NSFW/18+ Content
Divider Credit: firefly-graphics
It wasn’t often that Quinn found Sunny at the balcony railing, overseeing the Clippers training when Quinn knew he preferred to be in the field, training right alongside them. His expression was about as calming to look at as the rolling fields of red poppies, but there was a worry line across Sunny’s forehead, and his Regent’s eyes were firmly fixed on one of his Captains.
“Why does your expression tell me there’s trouble brewing in paradise?” Quinn asked. Sunny didn’t immediately snap to attention, but Quinn is willing to let that slide. His Regent is his sword arm, his right hand; he’s earned the leeway that Quinn gives him. For a moment, Sunny doesn’t acknowledge him before he finally straightens from his position at the railing.
“Baron.” Quinn raised an eyebrow slightly, cocking his head to the side, as if to press his question. “Nothing more than an oddity, I hope.”
“Problem with one of your men?” Quinn asked.
“I’m not entirely sure.” Sunny answered measuredly, and then Quinn knew he was dancing a line. He was avoiding meeting Quinn’s eyes, which tended to mean that there was an issue that was one way or another directly related to the baron.
“I trust you. I trust it isn’t misplaced.” Quinn murmured coolly.
“Do you trust Jade?” Sunny asked then, meeting his eyes. “Because I’ve caught her going to one of my captains’ quarters late at night, and honest to my oath as Regent, I don’t know why.” Quinn wrinkled his nose, showing teeth-- and distaste-- at Sunny’s statement.
“You would insinuate that my fiance is having a dalliance with a Clipper?” There was no mistaking the anger in Quinn’s undertone.
“I didn’t say there was a dalliance, Baron.” Sunny started.
“End it, or I’ll end it myself!” Quinn snapped.
“Yes, Baron.” There would be no reasoning with him, at this point, and at that Sunny left him, dismissed from his own musings. There was little hope that whatever was going on between one of his most trusted captains and Jade wasn’t an affair, but Sunny was more prepared to give the man a chance than Quinn ever would be.
Jasper raised an eyebrow when he opened the door to a knock and found Sunny standing there. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
His fellow soldier barked out a sharp laugh and gestured Sunny inside, folding himself back down to the floor, settling in with a deep sigh, sharpening his blades with a practiced ease. And Sunny was reminded, personally, that Jasper was a capable soldier, that he was Clipper who had trained under Nathaniel Moon, and been traded to Quinn by the Widow's late and now deceased husband. He came in one form-- small-- and didn’t arm himself with the standard sword or katana that the others preferred, but rather a tanto blade and an array of small daggers. And Sunny had come unarmed. Not that he doubted his prowess to kill anyone without a weapon.
“So what brings the Regent to my door?” Jasper teased.
“The Baron.” Sunny answered honestly, and watched all the fun and teasing drain right off Jasper’s face.
“Oh.” Jasper wrinkled his nose. “Baron’s orders bring you to my door. Why? What did I do?”
“I’ve informed Quinn about your habits with Jade, and he’s ordered me to end it or he will himself. Nicely put, stop on my orders, or be beheaded by his hand.” Sunny replied. Jasper had faltered on sharpening his blade, staring up at Sunny in shock.
“The Baron thinks I’m having a dalliance with his fiance? You think I’m having an affair with Jade?!” The shock was palpable, if Jasper’s expression alone didn’t sell it first.
“Do you have any other reasons to explain why she comes to your quarters late at night, and tries to come and go unseen?” Jasper huffed out a breath, putting his blades away, and folding himself into a sitting position, spearing Sunny with a glance.
“He’s not gonna like it.” Jasper started. “But you can put his mind to rest about me having an affair with Jade. She’s my sister.” Sunny blinked. He’d never seen them side by side enough to make that comparison, but they did bear some similar features, yes. “And she comes to my quarters as of late, to swoon about Ryder, and to convince me that he would make a better baron.”
“She’s...” Sunny started, pausing. “She’s planning a coup?”
“Oh no, not at all.” Jasper remarked sarcastically. “She totally doesn’t have any plans to actually marry Quinn so she’ll be the Baroness and then take a page out of the late Widow’s book and put the man six feet under.”
“Tell him.” Sunny urged. Jasper scoffed.
“You think he’ll believe me over my sister’s pretty face?” Jasper asked. “Absurd, the both of you.”
“Persuade him then.” Jasper gave him a look.
“The only skills of persuasion I have are the same skills that Jade would employ, and last I heard, Baron Quinn has a rule against wicking his Clippers. To use a tool heedlessly is to blunt it, or some similar phrase.”
“I can’t tell you whether or not he would ignore that if you offered it freely.” Sunny replied.
“The problem about ending the dalliance with Jade, is that she’ll get suspicious about whose pockets I’m in. But it will end one way or another, when somebody dies. The question is, who will it be-- me, her, or Quinn?”
“You would consider Ryder to be a better baron?” Sunny’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline.
“Oh please, that boy still puts his boots on the wrong feet.” Jasper threw Sunny an insulted look. “My loyalty is my baron. My oath is to my baron. My sister knows this is the law of the Badlands.” Sunny knew Jasper was looking for him to tell Quinn and have the matter handled in an impersonal manner that only Sunny could deliver. But Sunny couldn’t, and wouldn’t, offer Quinn what Jasper was implying he could, and would.
“I expect to see you in the morning in Quinn’s office.” Sunny stood at that, leaving and hearing Jasper curse his name under his breath as he did.
But Sunny wasn’t there in the morning, and Quinn looked especially displeased to see him. Jasper laid his blade down neatly on Quinn’s desk, hilt at Quinn’s hand. To surrender the blade would mean to surrender his rank, but Quinn was hardly pleased by the action. He met eyes with the captain standing at attention in front of his desk and unsheathed the blade, standing.
“Tell me, Captain, how does my sweet Jade taste?” Jasper was unmoved by the blade at his throat as Quinn circled him, but the question made him grimace, steel spilling crimson, warm and wet. It was such a double edged sword to keep his blades as sharp as he did, when the wrong touch could spill blood.
“I have no dalliance with your fiance, Baron.”
“And yet you offer your blades to me, surrendering your rank with the knowledge that I would remove you of it. Do you think you’re clever, Captain?” Quinn asked, a snarl on his breath.
“No, Baron.” Jasper answered, watching Quinn run his tongue over the flat of the blade. It was a dicey move, considering the sharpness of the blade, but he pulled it well, and there was a reason that the Badlands knew Quinn as the Red Baron, the Crazy Armadillo himself, that there manic to Quinn when he wanted there to be manic. A show of bravado with the balls of steel and swordsmanship to back it up.
He had manic Quinn now, and it would be harder to reason with him, with blood on his breath and steel in his hand.
“On your knees.” Quinn ordered, and Jasper obediently knelt, though never once breaking his gaze on Quinn, and was rewarded for it by a sword at his throat, the point pressing in, but never breaking skin. “Do you have anything to tell me before I separate your head from your miserable body?”
Jasper only shrugged slightly. “Would you listen to me if I did?” He asked, and watched Quinn’s eyebrow quirk up as if to ask if he really had the audacity to do this. “Jade is my sister, Baron. I have no dalliance with her. I’d soon as gouge out my own eyes than see or interact with her in such a manner.” That seemed to jar Quinn out of his manic behavior, and he reared back with an unreadable look, blade cutting a thin line up Jasper’s neck and jaw.
“Jade.”
“And Jasper. Yes, our parents were terribly creative.” Jasper replied dryly. He seemed unmoved by the fact of the cut across his face, and unbothered by the blood currently seeping into his uniform and Quinn was internally impressed. Staring into the face of impending death and not flinching were traits of a good Regent, but Quinn was satisfied with the way Sunny ran his empire. “Not that it matters.”
“Why does your sister keep in your quarters at such late hours of the night?” Jasper started to say something-- opened his mouth and shut it again-- eyes meeting Quinn’s.
“Permission to speak freely, Baron? Permission to speak without you thinking that I’m... trying to save my own skin?” Jasper asked.
“Speak.” Quinn granted him that flatly.
“You know Sunny trusts me. You know my men trust me. That I haven’t once given either one of them, or you, a reason to doubt me or my ability as a Captain. That this, were there an offense here, would be my first offense.” Quinn pursed his lips and flicked the blade to the side slightly, a gesture for Jasper to continue. “I tell you, in confidence, as a Captain to his Baron, Jade is planning to kill you.” The room was deathly quiet after that and then the blade clattered to the floor where Quinn threw it.
“Run yourself through for the shit you just spit at me.” Quinn hissed, his eyes dark. Jasper frowned, and grumbled, picking up the blade.
“I told Sunny you wouldn’t believe me. And why would you? She’s pretty, and sex has a way of influencing one’s judgment.” Jasper said flatly, cleaning his blade on his sleeve, and then removing the Clipper’s vest, so that the blade wouldn’t have to cut through the leather. Quinn sat back against the desk, his face stone.
Jasper was military through and through. He folded his vest neatly and discarded his weapons’ belt, setting each dagger neatly on the floor. Then came his shirt, bloodstained, revealing his chest and back covered in Clipper tattoos, kills for Quinn, kills for his baron before Quinn. He was trained under Silver Moon, one of his last Colts, which made him particularly valuable in the Badlands. Under Quinn, and under Sunny’s guidance, he’d quickly become one of Quinn’s most lethal, a dangerous weapon in his arsenal, and now he sat, obedient to the end, readying his own blade to kill himself.
“Bring me proof.” Jasper’s head snapped up.
“Baron?”
“Bring me proof,” Quinn repeated, “and don’t make me repeat myself again. Get your things and get out.”
“Yes, Baron.” Jasper gathered his weapons, his shirt and vest, and scurried out the door rather quickly.
It was unusual for Quinn to ask for her to join him in his office, but here Lydia was, and Quinn seemed to be in a mood, hands folded behind his back neatly as he studied a map on the wall of his office.
“Quinn?”
“You hear things I don’t.” Quinn started, but he never turned around, not until, “What do you hear about Jade?” Lydia raised her eyebrows. Sure, he came to her for counsel about the barony, yes, but this? This matter of his doting and lust who he so blatantly refused to hear slander about? Why now? Why now when Jade was weeks away from becoming his new Baroness?
“Why me?” Lydia asked.
“You think about this objectively.” Quinn replied, his answer clipped. Ah, he couldn’t fathom thinking about it with the head that was on his shoulders, apparently.
“She’s popular with the Cogs because she was one of them. At least, with the ones who aren’t close to her anyways.” If Quinn noticed the undertone in her voice, he didn’t comment on it and he normally would have, so Lydia was inclined to think the line of questioning came from a place of actual genuine concern. She continued, “She’s close with Ryder.” Something seemed to tweak in Quinn’s expression.
“How close?”
“They grew up together, so...” A deflection and Quinn seemed to know it.
“How close, Lydia?” She seemed to consider her own neck for a moment before answering.
“Do you want the truth or a noble lie?” Lydia asked. “And would you even believe me without thinking I’m just jealous?”
“I want you to tell me why her brother, a Captain with considerable respect and sway among my Clippers, told me this morning that Jade is plotting to kill me.” Quinn replied. Lydia took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Ryder and Jade are sleeping together. And have been. For a while.” Lydia replied. “Like a, before you two were a thing, a while.” Quinn didn’t look amused.
“And the plot to kill me, did you hear about that too?” He asked.
“No. You know me, Quinn. Why would I keep that from you?” Still, she shivered under his gaze. He wasn’t a man she wished to antagonize, and yet she knew telling him the truth had done exactly that. He didn’t verbally reply, just growled and showed his teeth for half a second, before dismissing her with a snarl.
“Quinn.” It was Jade this time, and he’d been in his office all day, waiting for results, waiting for Jasper to come back with proof, drinking and sulking. “Come to bed, Quinn.” Quinn glowered in her direction, and his mouth started running without him entirely thinking it through.
“You want to tell me why your brother thinks you’re plotting to kill me?”
“Jasper?” Jade laughed. “You’re kidding, right?” But the look on Quinn’s face indicated anything but. “You know, he’s really done a good job making himself extremely valuable to you, but his loyalties are elsewhere.”
“I’m listening.”
“Sure, he was traded here by the Widow’s late husband when he was baron, but he was always loyal to her. He’s trained under her.”
“I thought Nathaniel Moon trained him.”
“Sure, but not in the style he’s most adept in.” Jade replied. “You shouldn’t trust him; he’s a lying snake.” Quinn arched his eyebrow slightly.
“I’m beginning to think he is not the only one.” Quinn murmured. “Goodnight, Jade.”
“Come to bed.” She pleaded softly.
“Good. Night.” Quinn made sure each word was clearly enunciated and his expression indicated that he didn’t want to be fucked with, or fucked in this case.
“Well,” Jasper stepped out of the shadows, “Sounds like you had a day.” Quinn almost jumped, hand instinctively going for his sword.
“How long have you been there?”
“Mm. Long enough.” Jasper evaded the question, but for once Quinn could see more than neutrality in his expression, something almost like hurt, before it vanished as quick as it had come. “I’ll be honest; I never expected you to confront her about it.”
“And just let the threat remain?” Quinn asked. “You’re a capable killer; why would I ignore the obvious?”
“I brought you proof.” Jasper replied, opening his satchel and emptying it on Quinn’s desk. “Every scrap of correspondence I could find. Correspondence between Ryder and the Widow, between the Widow and Jade, between the Widow and Zepyhr,” Quinn blinked. Why was Jacobee’s Regent involved in this? “Between Zepyhr and Ryder, and between Ryder and Jade.”
“Wha... how?” Quinn asked, stunned. The task had been a fool’s errand. Go get proof and likely die trying. So, why and how had he completed it in a day with no indication that he’d encountered any obstacles trying to get it.
“Jade thinks, or thought rather-- until you revealed that one tiny little detail-- that she had me in the palm of her hand. That I, on the military side of the equation, would follow in the coup.”
“She was conspiring with you.”
“She was conspiring.” Jasper replied.
“Maybe I should take your head.”
“My loyalty is to my baron. My oath is to my baron. My sister knows that this is the law of the Badlands, and persisted regardless.”
“She thought you would follow.” Quinn realized. “What’s that saying? That blood is thicker than water?”
“The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, actually.” Jasper replied. “I took my oath in blood. I drowned it in blood, and it will be unwritten in blood, if I know anything about these Badlands.”
“You omitted that you were trained under the Widow.” Quinn didn’t even try to sort through the mess on his desk, just leaning back on it.
“I’m small.” Quinn waited. “Moon trained me, yeah, but it didn’t flow. It wasn’t graceful. It was awkward and I was clumsy. I couldn’t manage a sword like the others could. I saw her fight and everything clicked after that. So yeah, the Widow trained me. I fail to see what that has to do with anything.”
“You said you’re loyal to your baron, but am I your baron?” Quinn asked.
“Do you need proof?” Jasper tilted his head to the side slightly, trying to gauge Quinn.
“What kind of proof could you possibly give--” Quinn started, and then his breath hitched slightly, because Jasper had knelt to the floor in front of him, and his next words made Quinn’s mouth go dry.
“I exist to serve your interests, Baron.” A line he’d probably heard Sunny say dozens of times, but then, “All your interests, Baron.” And Quinn’s mind blanked for half a second. He wasn’t a nice baron, and he knew he wasn’t a nice baron, and yet here Jasper was offering him something he wouldn’t take with his Clippers. There was a line he drew at needlessly blunting his tools, and his Clippers were just another tool used to keep his barony safe and in line, but there was this heady temptation at his feet, offering freely.
He was close enough that Quinn could feel the heat of his mouth through his shirt, chin resting just above his belt. “Baron.” Jasper breathed quietly, the rush of hot air meeting skin and Quinn swallowed the moan, savoring in the rush of lust that went straight to his cock. Jasper pressed his weight against Quinn, his throat resting in just the right place that when he rumbled out a noise, it sent shivers all over Quinn.
“Did the Widow teach you this too?” Quinn asked, on his last coherent thought before he took what was being offered.
“I don’t think this is the kind of thing that other people can teach.” Jasper replied, meeting Quinn’s gaze, dragging his mouth lower, running his tongue the length of Quinn’s shaft, and lips closing around the head, despite the fabric separating them. Quinn twitched, fingers gripping into the desk behind him. The touch was damn near electric, and Quinn knew he was already inebriated enough, but this he wanted more of. Jasper didn’t resist when Quinn knotted his fingers in his hair and yanked him backwards; in fact, he almost seemed to smile but that was a cocky smile and Quinn aimed to make it disappear, unfastening his pants and wetting his fingers with saliva, stroking himself until he was damn near dripping precum.
“You want your Baron’s cock, Captain?” Quinn asked, mocking. Jasper didn’t initially answer and Quinn cupped his chin bruisingly, bringing his eyes up. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” Jasper smirked, his tongue flicking out to catch the dribble of precum running down Quinn’s shaft, running his tongue just under the head of his cock. The rational thought was gone then, when Quinn’s eyes fluttered for half a second and he had to brace himself against the desk, giving Jasper free rein. And in that half a second, Jasper muddied the borders of that fine line Quinn had always followed, taking him willingly. First, a taste, but then working himself to take all of Quinn, nose buried in the thatch of dark curls at the base of Quinn’s cock.
“Gods.” Quinn swore under his breath at the sight, his cock twitching within the confines of Jasper’s mouth. This was a ploy, this was a ploy, this was a... it couldn’t be a ploy. This was a distasteful duty for many, dolls and wives alike, and Jade had never initiated for him like this, and Quinn didn’t press it when he could be satisfied in other manners. No, this couldn’t be a ploy; this was... this was Jasper’s hand wrapping around the back of his thigh and squeezing, imploring Quinn to react, imploring Quinn to use him... This was genuine. Jasper whined quietly, head bobbing in practiced movements as he fucked his mouth with Quinn’s cock, needing more.
“Baron, please.” Jasper begged when he drew away, his breath ragged and his eyes watering. Mouth open, sat back on his heels, waiting for Quinn to follow, and follow he did, hand cupping Jasper’s chin, rutting himself into Jasper’s wanting mouth. It was a rush that Quinn had never dared to take; he owned Jasper’s loyalty and his service as a Clipper, his oath, his blades, his prowess, his very body, but not like this. Never like this... until now. Quinn growled, white hot pleasure racing through him, feeling everything-- the firm pressure of Jasper’s hand digging into the back of his thigh, the touch of his tongue, the wet heat of his mouth, and his hand buried in his own Captain’s hair as he crossed that line-- all at once.
“I’m--” Quinn growled again, and didn’t expect Jasper to meet him, his free hand knotting in Quinn’s shirt, yanking him forward eagerly, damn near choking, and staying there until Quinn was slack and satisfied before finally drawing away, sitting back on his heels.
Quinn was a cruel man, yes; his Clippers got to see all of him like that on vicious display. But he was a lover too, and not unpassionate about his affairs. He smoothed the blade of his hand down the side of Jasper’s head, fingers cupping his cheek when the creak of the floorboards beneath a foot alerted them both and their heads both snapped to attention to the sight of Jade standing there, her nose wrinkled in disgust.
“Oh, you little bitch!” She snarled, turning on her heel and fleeing down the hallway with a cry to Ryder on her lips.
“Clip her! Clip them both!” Quinn snarled. He was not overly fond of being interrupted, and nor was he fool enough to ignore the evidence that Jasper had brought. Jasper didn’t immediately move and Quinn was giving him an incredulous look. “Just because...” Quinn started, but Jasper finally stood, gesturing for Quinn to follow with the nod of his head, opening the balcony doors and picking a crossbow. Quinn understood then; he understood that his Captain’s mind had anticipated that Jade would walk in on them, that she would make the call to flee the barony, her and Ryder both. Jasper notched the arrow, and took careful aim out over the courtyard as a pair of hoofbeats sounded in the night. And then Quinn heard him chuckle, the snapback recoiling against his shoulder and the resounding thud as the bolt made contact with enough force to knock the rider of their horse.
“Jade!” If Ryder were smarter, if he were not blinded by his love for her, he would have left her behind. But Quinn knew he wouldn’t, and Jasper was already scaling down the balcony railing, blade out, heady with battle lust, and stalking towards the horse and rider who had turned back. He passed Jade, bleeding out on the ground and ignored her cries, grabbing the reins of the barreling horse and bringing Ryder to an abrupt stop.
When Ryder picked himself up off the ground, he came at Jasper swinging wildly, blinded by anger. Quinn watched it all play out, watched Ryder throw himself at Jasper again and again and again, never once stopping to think about his opponent or their moves. In that way, Quinn supposed that Ryder was his son, stubborn and persistent with a breathtaking temper to match. But the years of battle and the years of being the baron had hardened Quinn; Ryder didn’t have that luxury or the discipline to obtain said luxury. So he was throwing himself fruitlessly at an opponent now, and Jasper was wise enough to let Ryder do it, and tire himself out.
When Ryder stumbled and threw his punch, Jasper caught it, twisting his arm out to the side and at minimum dislocating his shoulder, if not breaking it, in one fluid movement.
“She’s your sister!” Jasper was unmoved. “I could have been ten times the baron my father was!” Jasper only cocked his head to the side. “You could have been Regent!” Ryder threw another punch with his non-dominant hand and this time Jasper moved, arm wrapped snugly around Ryder’s throat, facing the Fort, facing the balcony where Quinn was standing, his expression both curious and amused.
“I took an oath to my baron in blood, in sweat, in tears,” Jasper’s voice lilted for half a second, “in more ways than one.” His grip tightened and Ryder dug his fingers into Jasper’s arm, choking out a sound, but the Captain’s grip never loosened, and Ryder didn’t have the prowess to fight back and wasn’t given the option to. His body slumped when Jasper snapped his neck, and Jade’s scream echoed in the courtyard at seeing him there, lifeless.
“You--!” Jade snarled, trying to crawl towards Ryder when Jasper brought his boot down on her wrist, effectively stopping her in her tracks, rolling her over to face him with little effort. He brought his blade to her throat and couldn’t help but to note that she looked furious for someone in her position. The crossbow bolt had torn right through her and she had landed hard from her horse bucking her off. Rage and adrenaline were the only things keeping her alive, and the baron’s wrath was coming for her. “You were supposed to help us, me, him! To be-- ” Jasper tilted his head to the side, his voice perfectly blank.
“To be the glue that held the coup together?”
“It wasn’t a coup!” Jade spit. “I would be Baroness, and we wouldn’t have to follow these barbaric rules!” Jasper actually snorted. “What?”
“Do you think Ryder would have actually let you get away with your noble heart? You may have had his heart and his head, but deep down he was his father’s son.”
“He would have made a better baron than Quinn!” Jade snapped, and Jasper’s blade pressed into the hollow of her throat, drawing blood. “At least Ryder had the capability to love someone. Do you think you’ll get that with Quinn?” Jasper only arched an eyebrow, bringing his sword back.
“I don’t care one or another if I do. I took an oath to him, made it in blood, drowned it in blood, as red and as plentiful as the poppies beyond the wall of the Fort. What makes you think I would turn my back on him now?”
“We’re family!” Jasper let the blade fly, making an impact and sending blood flying with one fell swoop.
“Welcome to the Badlands, sister.”
#A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing#Into the Badlands fanfic#Baron Quinn X OMC#canon typical violence#tw: blood#tw: violence#character death#cw: nsfw/18+
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Warbringer Pt. 20
Summary: In the wake of Apollo's healing, Leoric finds himself in Quinn's care, and Quinn finally admits to himself that his feelings for Leoric are not born of lust.
WARNINGS: Mention of Sickness/Injury
Hyacinth, Lavender
Latin Translations:
Deus meus lauretus - My laurel-wreathed god
Quinn brushed a stray tendril of hair back where it clung to a sweat dampened cheek as Leoric fought against the fever that ate away at him. He had seemed fine when Veil had released him into Quinn’s care, but his condition had rapidly worsened overnight and no amount of medicine or healing seemed to be working.
“The veil is thin again in the Badlands.” Janus remarked, watching the veil between time turn sheer.
“Is someone else passing it?” Apollo wondered.
“No.” Janus murmured, after a moment’s pause. “It’s for your disciple. A ticket home.”
“The one who has his heart is in the Badlands.”
“I suppose we shall see if his will of mind is as strong as his heart. He won’t survive the passing of the veil again. His body is too weakened by Bellona’s assault. Even with the cordial, even with your healing, he suffers it so. That body is very mortal.” Janus stepped away from the mirror for a moment, trying to gauge his fellow god.
“He has not asked. If he did, I doubt it would be for himself.”
“Are we back to our fickle ways that we would play with these mortals’ lives?” Janus asked. “But perhaps the pathway of an oracle is dangerous for one so reckless.”
“He does things recklessly because his heart bleeds for people just like him. Because he was the one who had to stand up for himself. Because he was the one to make himself.” Apollo replied, incensed for a moment. “He blessed a home of healers. He warded for their protection. He knew his love would come to kill them... and he knew that if his love took one step over that threshold, that he would have died on impact with the blessing. He’s trying to find a way to give a man his freedom, trying to find a way to give a man his life back, trying to find a way to heal the man he loves. But how can he... when those tools are not at his disposal?”
“This land is not our Renaissance.” Janus retorted. “It is not our Rome. Our Athens.”
“Does it matter if it is? There are no more temples left in that world. Everything is dust. Why not take the chance to rebuild on fertile ground?” Apollo asked.
Leoric’s eyes fluttered as he took in a ragged breath, shoulders shaking in an aching cough. Why did his body feel like it had been dragged through hell and back? The last thing he remembered was confrontation with Hannah and Quinn at his side, but he was certain more time had passed since then, all in a hazy blur.
A damp cloth pressed to his forehead, a hand smoothing down his cheek, rough fingers-- Quinn’s touch. Leoric instinctively followed it, colliding with a warm body and a coarsely bearded jaw. He took in another sharp breath, fighting the urge to cough against Quinn’s shoulder.
“You’re alright.” Quinn murmured, hand at his back now, pressing Leoric into his body. There was an attempt to his name, a low sound rattling through Leoric before he got quiet again, nuzzling into Quinn’s chest.
“You’re awfully stubborn.” Apollo remarked. Quinn absolutely hated that the god was sitting right there, legs propped over the arm of his chair. It was bad enough that he had just appeared out of a literal nowhere and plopped himself down in Quinn’s quarters about two days ago. “But the veil has passed and according to Janus, it won’t pass again. You survived the passing of it... despite being called to it. What did you leave behind? A family? Children? A lover?” Apollo must have touched on something sensitive because with all the strength Leoric could muster, he had taken the longsword from beneath the pillows and thrown it in Apollo’s direction. “Whoa!” It still wavered from the wall where it had made contact. “Alright then.” Apollo muttered. “Tetchy.”
Leoric glared in that direction. Who are you?
“You know me as Apollo.” Leoric shook his head.
I don’t remember... I don’t remember the time that has passed.
“No, I don’t suppose you would.” Apollo murmured. “Cordials of the gods sometimes react strangely on mortal bodies.”
I’m sick.
“Your body is weakened, yes. Bellona tore through both your mental and physical defenses. It will take time, as anything else does, for you to recover.” Leoric touched his hand to the leather corded crystal resting against his chest.
“It’s...” Leoric rasped. “Blurred.” He shouldn’t be in here if I’m sick. His immune system doesn’t need any more stress than it already has.
“Yeah, good luck convincing him. He has the head of an ox.” Apollo murmured.
Touching. But foolish. Leoric took in another deep breath, the cough shaking his form. Quinn rumbled out an annoyed sound.
“Come back to bed.”
“Mmm.” Leoric stood on wobbling legs, snatching the red jacket to wrap around an otherwise bare body. He didn’t even want to know when that had happened, making his way, slowly to his own quarters across the hall. The rifling of bottles and vials as glass clinked against each other, fingers closing around a jar.
“It’s quite impressive, this little apothecary you’ve made for yourself.” Apollo commented. Leoric turned with a brief nod, offering the jar to Apollo. “Oh?” He took the jar, opening it for a moment to inspect the contents. “Oh. Well that’s appreciated. I won’t pretend to know where you found it in this wasteland.” Leoric snorted, grimacing, leaning on his dresser as a wave of dizziness began to overtake him. “Hey,” There were hands on him that weren’t Quinn’s and Leoric shied from the touch. “You need to take it easy. Your body is still healing.” Apollo murmured, coming down to level with Leoric.
I just... want... a blessed moment... of peace.
“I can help you.”
That requires sacrifice. I have nothing for you, deus meus lauretus.
“You think this is nothing?” Apollo showed the jar, the delicate blue-purple flowers resting within. “Just because the offering is small doesn’t dictate its worth.” Leoric closed his eyes, and Apollo got the sense that that particular affirmation hit a little close to home. “Why don’t we get you to Quinn, and why don’t you take it easy for a while?” Apollo murmured, grabbing the extra clothes and looping Leoric’s arm over his shoulder, retreating back to Quinn’s quarters.
“Listen I know you don’t like me, but...” Apollo helped Leoric to the bed. “Take care of him.” Apollo watched Leoric immediately curl to Quinn’s side. “I... I’ll be back in a little bit.”
“You are impossible.” Quinn murmured.
“Just... Just want a bath.” Leoric whispered.
“All you had to do was ask, you know.” Quinn replied. “I’ll take care of you.” Leoric managed a small smile, watching Quinn draw a warm bath, stepping into it before it was nearly done. It wasn’t long that the scent of lavender drifted through the air as Leoric sank into the water, eyes closing. “I’ll protect you.” Quinn’s whisper was soft, only meant for him as practiced hands combed through Leoric’s hair, untangling the braid, working soap through it. As deft as Quinn was at it, Leoric assumed he may have been doing it this whole time... or in the other moments where his mind was gone.
“I love you.” Leoric breathed quietly, drifting.
He was asleep before Quinn ever uttered a quiet, “I know.” It was harder to hide his feelings when Leoric was so helpless like this. Sick, tired, beaten... He wasn’t the one to concede, even for the sake of his own health. Quinn washed and dried him gently, helping him into a nightshirt and underwear. Mostly Leoric was just content to nuzzle into him, seeking warmth, seeking safety, seeking the comfort of Quinn’s arms. And right back into the bed they went, Quinn nesting himself around Leoric’s body. Was this love, real love? Or was it just lust... no. Quinn shut that thought down so quickly, it was borderline violent. Lust... lust was a dollhouse, a ten-coin blowjob, nothing more than a ritual satisfaction. He would never get sex like the sex he and Leoric shared at any dollhouse in the Badlands. It was more than some cheap one night wick. No, the things Quinn felt for Leoric... he was beginning to doubt that feeling was lust, as much worry, sadness, and oftentimes anger was mixed in.
#Warbringer#Warbringer Series#Baron Quinn X OMC#Baron Quinn X Original Male Character#Into the Badlands Fanfic#cw: mention of sickness/injury
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I posted 1,830 times in 2022
31 posts created (2%)
1,799 posts reblogged (98%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@lionfloss
@j-k-i-ng
@witchervvolf
@thedruidsforest
@rainie-is-seasonchange
I tagged 1,138 of my posts in 2022
Only 38% of my posts had no tags
#into the badlands - 206 posts
#all credit to the artist - 134 posts
#baron quinn - 75 posts
#into the badlands vibes - 52 posts
#elrond - 52 posts
#writing prompts - 35 posts
#sunny - 35 posts
#lydia - 33 posts
#gaius chau - 32 posts
#rings of power - 27 posts
Longest Tag: 131 characters
#the gender of a slightly eldritch peredhel that's been raised by feanorians and has lost so much and yet still is as kind as summer
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers (◠‿◠✿) (if you feel like it!!)
Oooooh! Thanks for the ask!
LOTR/THE HOBBIT
Bards & Beans Coffee Co.
Elrond X Fem! Reader
The Captain of the Kingsguard
Feren X Plus-Size Siren Fem! Reader
Summer Rain
Lindir X GN! Reader
INTO THE BADLANDS
Whiskey and Cinnamon
Baron Quinn X Bren (OMC)
Warbringer
Baron Quinn X Leoric (OMC)
6 notes - Posted March 21, 2022
#4
The fact that you wrote a Celeborn fic makes you my favorite person ever! Nobody ever feeds this addiction for me!!!
I LOOOOOOOVE CELEBORN!!!
Personally I think he's an underrated character but I never see any content for him because everyone ships him with Galadriel (I mean, fair tho; they are a legit power couple).
But I mean...
Ugh, he's perfect. Feisty, feral, Doriathian Prince goodness.
7 notes - Posted March 17, 2022
#3
10 crushes from 10 fandoms
I'm having a cackle cause I saw @errruvande and @mor-wen doing this and just had to join in. Am I even in ten fandoms?! Probably not. Too bad we're not ranking them from most to least problematic (aka Bren has a history of liking the bad guys)
Baron Quinn (Into the Badlands)
2. Jayne (Firefly)
See the full post
17 notes - Posted August 31, 2022
#2
How am I expected to be normal about him?
Just...
See the full post
28 notes - Posted October 3, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
In this house we stan Celeborn, Feral Prince of Doriath.
Lord of Lothlorien
Lord of the Galadhrim
See the full post
30 notes - Posted October 7, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
#tumblr2022#year in review#my 2022 tumblr year in review#your tumblr year in review#bro i am cackling#in this house we stan marton csokas as celeborn apparently
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Welcome To The Badlands Series
Welcome To The Badlands Series (Co-Written by My-Fandom-Musings & TheMerriWeatherMage) - Baron Quinn x Bren (OMC), Sunny x Nix (OFC):
Summary: Bren and Nix have fallen into the Badlands. One thing leads to another and well… chaos begins to unfold in the Badlands, for the better or for the worse.
My Watcher - Sunny x Nix (Nix PoV One-shot) (Written by Nix):
Nix finds herself in an impossible future. Her friend, Bren, knows of this world and is using it to his advantage. But Nix is a fish out of water, with a silent guardian making sure she won’t betray the Baron he works for. But is the assignment that simple?
Dancing With Danger - Baron Quinn x Bren (Bren Pov One-Shot) (Written by Bren):
Summary: Bren and Nix end up falling into the Badlands. One thing has led to another as it is wont to do. In the meantime, Bren has negotiated his way into Quinn’s barony, despite the fact that they seem to despise each other. They play a game of cat and mouse until Quinn pushes one too many buttons with Bren and ends up with a broken nose…
In The Midnight Hour - Sunny x Nix (Written by Nix):
Nix and Bren catch up on their day’s events, with Nix confessing her worries about Sunny. But Bren thinks there’s something that Nix is missing. And when the nightmares from that day find Nix, Sunny finds her.
Firestarter - Quinn x Bren (Written by Bren):
Bren’s last encounter with Quinn was regarding a drink, but Quinn hasn’t risen to that ante. Bren begins to think about learning how to fight after his hand heals when he lands himself in an altercation with Jade… and Quinn shows the ugly truth of being the baron…
Last One Standing - Quinn x Bren, Sunny x Nix (Long Shot, 1st Pov & 3rd Pov, Written by Bren & Nix):
Bren has made an enemy for himself in Quinn’s barony; he just doesn’t know it yet. But when an attempt to overthrow Quinn surfaces at a party, Bren accidentally gets corralled in with the Regent of another territory. She finds him particularly valuable… and he walks away with her willingly, letting himself be taken captive rather than fight and risk death being outnumbered. As one can imagine, one Baron Quinn isn’t exactly happy about this turn of events…
The Hanging Tree - Sunny x Nix, Quinn x Bren (Written by Nix):
The Badlands are becoming more real in the wake of other barons trying to gain the knowledge Bren has. When Nix feels she may be at a breaking point, help comes where it’s least expected.
Whiskey & Cinnamon - Bren x Quinn (Written by Bren):
Bren doesn’t remember all the details of how he’s ended up at The Fort, nor does he expect of all things for his company to be Quinn. But the baron stays regardless of Bren being awake and conscious and maybe, just maybe…
Vows - Sunny x Nix (Written by Nix):
It’s said that a Clipper’s vows are like marriage vows. But sometimes rules are meant to be broken. Is it worth the risk?
Notes: NSFW/18+ DON’T MAKE ME BLOCK YOU, MINORS.
A Sound Like Thunder - Baron Quinn x Bren (Written by Bren):
What day in the Armadillo barony hasn’t ended in constant arguing betwixt Quinn, Bren, and Nix? In the aftermath of one of these arguments, Quinn challenges Bren’s ideals and gets more than he bargained for…
Firebird - Sunny x Nix (Written By Nix):
Nix adores her best friend, Bren. But when he takes Jacobee’s old barony, she has to say goodbye to the man she loves and see if she truly earned her new name.
So Long as I Take Breath - Quinn x Bren (Written by Bren):
Bren and Nix have claimed the Barony of Mining and made it into their own. This, however, does not ease the tensions between Quinn and them, and when Quinn shows up in their territory to see how far they’ve come, tensions boil over into violence. And Bren finds once again that his heart cannot ignore Quinn, no matter how much he tries…
Baroness - Sunny x Nix (Written by Nix):
While Bren is gone, Nix keeps the homefront going. And she gets unexpected help in the form of a rival’s regent.
When Fates Align… (Written by Bren & Nix):
Bren and Nix take some time to get to know the ins and outs of their new barony. In the quest to clean out the old hideouts and build a more reliable map, they come across some unusual belongings that seem too good to be true, and Bren comes face to face with his past when the path takes him back to where he was held captive… (Part ½)
POV: 1st and 3rd Person
…The Gods Will Protect (Written by Nix & Bren):
After the discovery of gifts for Nix, the pair leaves the mines and try to move forward. But the Gods aren’t done with the pair and Bren discovers what the Fates have granted him. (Part 2/2)
First PoV and Third Pov.
Euphorbia - Quinn x Bren (Written by Bren):
Club Euphorbia gets an unexpected visitor in the form of Baron Quinn who is wondering where all of his business has gone, only to be introduced into a modern club with modern music. But things quickly get out of hand when he finds Bren and the new baron decides to surrender to his vices…
WARNINGS: NSFW/EXPLICIT/18+ CONTENT, Possessive/Controlling Behavior (Not Yandere)
Yuletide - Baron Quinn x Baron Bren, Sunny x Baroness Nix (Written by Nix):
Nix has earned a few different nicknames from the other Barons after freeing Lydia from Quinn. But when Gaius Chau needs to be freed from his own sister, her reputation is solidified in the Badlands. And it brings drama to the first party Bren and Nix host at their Barony.
Midwinter’s Flame - Sunny x Nix, Quinn x Bren (Written By Bren):
It’s Yuletide in House Enduring and Bren and Nix have decided to showcase their barony to the other barons, proving that they’re there to stay and won’t be intimidated into anything. But a party with all the barons is bound to bring drama and some find out that House Enduring and its barons are more than what they bargained for.
WARNINGS: NSFW/18+/EXPLICIT CONTENT
Moria - Sunny x Nix, Quinn x Bren (Written by Nix):
Speak Friend and enter. But beware of the dangers of the Mines of Moria.
Price of Freedom - Baron Quinn x Bren, Sunny x Nix (Written by Bren and Nix):
Bren has put a plan into motion in order to free Sunny from under Quinn’s hold, knowing that Sunny would never be given his freedom willingly. But even a careful plan is a reckless plan when dealing with Baron Quinn, and Bren knows that he could lose Quinn because of it��
Breaking of Chains - Baron Quinn x Bren, Sunny x Nix (Written by Nix and Bren):
Bren tried to free Sunny, but his partner in the plan didn’t play fair. Now Nix will have to bring Fire and Blood to finish the job. And deal with the harsh truth that not everyone she loves can have a happy ending.
A Broken Oath - Sunny X Nix, It’s Complicated (Bren X Quinn):
All is quiet in the Badlands. But that silence hides more than what meets the eye. Bren struggles to cope with choosing his barony over his heart and trying to recover from the damage of the betrayal.
The Road To Healing - Sunny x Nix, Bren x Quinn (Complicated):
Nix wants to help ease her brother’s suffering. But it isn’t until she remembers what Bren’s gifts are, that she realizes this will take more than a night of bitching and drinking. It’s going to take magic, revenge, and help from the friends they’ve made in the Badlands.
Part 1 of 2
A Taste Of Freedom - Sunny x Nix:
After taking care of Quinn’s remaining poppies, Nix knows Bren needs to get his mind off of things. It’s the perfect opportunity for a field trip beyond the Badlands. Where Nix has a surprise waiting for Sunny.
Part 2 of 2
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Moria
Sunny x Nix, Quinn x Bren (Written by Nix):
Summary: Speak Friend And Enter. But beware the dangers of the Mines of Moria.
“This is quite the place you got here, Nix.”
I smiled across the bar at Waldo as he rolled his chair up for a drink. “Thanks. It’s nice to have somewhere to get away from the stress of running a barony every now and then. What’s your poison?”
“Whiskey or scotch. I’m not picky,” he stated simply as his eyes wandered around the former nomad hideout turned speakeasy. “Not nearly as big as Euphorbia.”
I reached back into a secret compartment and pulled out a special bottle Rojas had gifted me when our alliance was sealed. I kept it at my speakeasy so that I wouldn’t be tempted to drink it all in one night. Waldo watched as I poured each of us a glass before I came around the bar to sit next to him.
“Here. Compliments of Rojas.”
Waldo took a sip and then looked at the glass in shock. “That’s smoother than anything Quinn has. Rojas really does like you guys.”
“Thanks. And you’ve been to Euphorbia?”
“Nah, not after the rumors of what Declan possibly saw. But I’ve heard enough from others to know what it looks like. And this is the complete opposite.”
I smirked. “Wise of you. I go only if I know one hundred percent that your brainless leader won’t be there. A shame you missed our party last week.”
Waldo chuckled. “Yeah, I heard it was quite the start to your barony. My baron’s not the only one without two brain cells to rub together. Chau really doesn’t have an ounce of self-preservation, does she?”
“Apparently not. Either that, or she assumed I was all talk when it came to using Meraxes. Bren and I both care deeply for our people. But I was the older sibling that now runs on trauma responses and spite. I had zero hesitation on meeting her bullshit with fire.”
He nodded his head. “So, what’s with the name? And the password? People around here make it seem like it’s an inside joke between you and Bren.”
I took a sip from my glass. “Kinda. It’s from a story back from…well, I guess not so much our world since this is supposed to be our world but the future. So, let’s just say it’s from a long-forgotten story. Moria was the name of one of the mines in this story.”
Waldo laughed. “Ok, very tongue-in-cheek of you.”
“It gets better. The password is in the riddle we ask. ‘Speak Friend and Enter’. That was carved over the door that lead into Moria. The password is ‘friend’ but in a language from the stories.”
“One of the languages you speak?”
“No. It’s one Bren and I know but we haven’t used it in a while. It’s…something we want to keep for ourselves. Not even Sunny knows it. Except for the password. Which I’m assuming is how you knew what the password was.”
“Do you really need to ask that?”
I took another sip and looked around my bar to watch people quietly talk. Watch people take a moment to breathe outside of their daily work.
“This place seems relatively free of other barons.”
There was no mistaking the hidden context. “The other barons are free to come here. Hell, Rojas and Minerva did before our alliance was solidified. But you can probably guess why Chau and Broadmore don’t.”
“And Quinn? Is it because you run it?”
“I’m sure that’s a big part. But the other part would be because he can’t bribe his way in. We don’t have a cover charge like Euphorbia so drinks aren’t on the house. And can you really see Quinn trying to figure out a password to get into a place I run just to have to pay for his own drinks?”
Waldo laughed. “Good point.”
A beautiful woman with brunette hair walked by, winking at us. Waldo looked at the woman in the short dress before raising an eyebrow at me.
“Before you get any ideas, I’m loyal to Sunny. But no one outside of you, Bren, and the staff in my house know about him. Even if I weren’t with him, I’m not interested in her. She’s a doll and I know she just wants to curry a favor. Even though our barony doesn’t work that way. But there will always be social climbers. Jane was an example.”
“I wouldn’t think you were the type to run a Doll House.”
“Oh, I don’t. Moria is a speakeasy, not a Doll House. But I’m pro sex-worker as long as they do it because they want to not because it’s a last resort or they’re forced to. Everyone in our barony is provided with housing, food, and clothing. They can pick any job they want and use what money they earn on anything else or even extra and or nicer versions of what we provide for free.”
“But…”
“But Dolls need somewhere to…advertise in a manner of speaking. I’ve offered to convert another former hideout into an actual Doll House, but in the meantime, they are welcome to hang out here. Just as long as they don’t conduct the actual business here. I’m not a fool. There will always be a market for it. So I provide them with a safe place to meet people. And soon, they will have a safe place to conduct the rest of their business so it doesn’t have to be in their home.”
“Pragmatic.”
“Freedom in this barony means freedom to choose what you want to do in all aspects of your life.”
Waldo chuckled. “Every time I start to wonder why the other barons don’t like you.”
I dramatically placed my hand over my forehead. “Oh, woe is me! To never have many friends! Oh, wait. I never had a lot of friends.”
Waldo chuckled as Bren walked up to us. “What joke did I miss?”
“Just about how Quinn’s brain cell is very lonely.”
Bren frowned. “He’s a clever man.”
“So’s a beagle.”
Waldo snorted and took a sip of the whiskey.
Bren rolled his eyes. “At least a beagle allows me to check his stitches.”
My eye twitched. “Stop doing wifey shit for men who deserve raviolis in a can!”
This time Waldo almost snorted the whiskey out of his nose from laughter. “Ow.”
I smirked, “a beagle would also be cuddly and cute.”
Bren looked offended. “Quinn is soft and fluffy…at times.”
Waldo raised an eyebrow. “The man is as soft and fluffy as a porcupine.”
I raised my glass to that. “Truly the definition of murder personified.”
Bren grumped, “he’s-”
I held up my hand. “No. Whatever you are going to say, just no. Save it. Waldo and I can actually see the man clearly. Let’s move on. So what brings you here, brother dearest? Usually, this place is too quiet for you.”
Bren sighed and tried to school his face, but I could tell. I could always tell. So I grabbed the gift from Rojas. “So much for not drinking this all in one night. C’mon. Let’s go to my office.”
Bren began to follow, but I didn’t hear Waldo’s chair. I turned to look at him.
“Did I stutter?”
Waldo raised an eyebrow. “You’re gonna conduct your business with someone from another barony there?”
“I know the look my brother is trying to hide. This is a bleeding heart plot. And as much as you say we shouldn’t trust anyone, you follow your own rule the least.”
“Since when?”
“Since you watched out for Bren and me back at Quinn’s barony. Now, roll your ass to my office or I’ll shove the chair down the hall.”
Waldo snorted and began to follow after us as we headed to the back of the speakeasy. Bren held my office door open for Waldo as I took a seat behind my desk. Bren didn’t bother to sit as he was too busy pacing once he closed the door. I refilled mine and Waldo’s glass.
“Ok, let’s start with the simple part. Who am I freeing?”
Bren glanced at me before he continued to pace. “That’s just it; you won’t be freeing them.”
Waldo and I raised our eyebrows in sync. Waldo glanced at me before speaking to Bren. “No offense, Kid, but you’re not a fighter. Not in the same way Nix is. You’ll fight to protect your people and I have no doubt that if Nix hadn’t been there, Chau would have been a different dragon’s chew toy. But it’s not like you to go into another barony to free someone.”
“No, I know. But this won’t be like when she freed Gaius. This is…more complicated.”
I sighed. “The only way this could be more complicated is if we’re finally freeing Sunny.”
Bren’s painful silence was all the answer we need.
“Hells, Kid. That’s a bold move,” Waldo muttered. “I want Sunshine free like you two, but that’s probably close to impossible.”
“More than impossible,” I chimed in. “Deadly. Bren, do you realize what this will mean? What this could cause?”
Bren shook his head. “It’ll be fine. I’m coming up with a plan.”
“What plan?”
Silence.
“What plan?!”
“I- I can’t say. Not yet.”
I got up from my desk and walked around to stop my brother’s pacing. “Bren, this is dangerous. What brought this on?”
He looked at me and I could see the pain in his eyes. “You. I know you try to shield me as the older one and all. But you can’t hide everything. You don’t have the freedom I have. Quinn and I could brazenly play a cat and mouse game in front of the other barons and no one could throw a fit. Just throw in their own suitors. But you? You have to look over your shoulder and double-check who’s in the room when you speak. You and Sunny have to sneak away once a month and make sure you’re not followed. You can only have a night alone with him if I’ve got Quinn occupied.”
I actually felt myself tear up at his words.
“You’ve already given up so much for me and our barony. You deserve to come out of the shadows. You deserve to be happy.”
Not even Waldo dared to interrupt the moment with sarcasm.
But I was realistic. “Bren. If we do this and Quinn finds out - if he finds out this was your idea - it could bring war between our baronies. It- it could cause you to lose Quinn. I HATE that man, but I hate the idea of you upset and alone even more.”
Bren offered me a small smile. “Then it’s a good thing I’m careful.”
Tagging Crew:
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Welcome to the Badlands
@themerriweathermage
#welcome to the badlands series#sunny x original female character#baron quinn x omc#waldo#original female character#original male character#quinn x original male character#moria#into the badlands#itbsunny#itbquinn#mentions of sex workers positive
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Midwinter's Flame
Summary: It's Yuletide in House Enduring and Bren and Nix have decided to showcase their barony to the other barons, proving that they're there to stay and won't be intimidated into anything. But a party with all the barons is bound to bring drama and some find out that House Enduring and its barons are more than what they bargained for.
Pairing(s): Baron Quinn X OMC (Bren), Sunny X OFC (Nix)
POV: 1st person (Bren), 3rd person
WARNINGS: NSFW/18+/EXPLICIT CONTENT, CANON TYPICAL VIOLENCE, BLOOD, BREATHPLAY
Co-creator: @i-drink-and-i-write-fics
Divider Credit: firefly-graphics
I kept my eyes on the door as our esteemed guests began to make their way inside. It came as no surprise that the barons who didn’t know us all that well would bring a small allocation of Clippers. Such was allowed within the rules of the invitations we had sent out to bring them all together to introduce our House to their baronies on this fine festive evening. But oh, it was more than that too.
Quinn’s allocation of just Declan and Sunny meant that he truly believed he needed no more if things came to a fight. Fair, Sunny was probably one of the more dangerous Clippers in the Badlands and I doubted anyone wanted to be on the end of Declan’s blade, or Quinn’s for that matter. Rojas had brought his wife, his Regent Esme, and only one Clipper who seemed to stay close to his wife’s side. Minerva had brought her most deadly butterfly, Tilda, and Gaius Chau who I knew was more than capable of holding his own. No doubt that would stir up some drama later tonight. I let my eyes rivet over him for a moment. Well, he certainly looked charming in blue.
But I couldn’t let that distract me, turning my attention to the others. Chau and Broadmore had both chosen an allocation of three Clippers, plus a highly trained Regent. That left Baron Hassan with an allocation of five Clippers. But given his territory was sandwiched between Chau and Broadmore, I wouldn’t blame him for erring on the side of caution. The Peacock territory had dressed us handsomely for this event. He carried himself with no small matter of pride gleaming in his eyes to see us dressed in the handiwork of his people.
“I see the good baron is about sussing out his threats.” Rojas made his way over to me.
“Baron Rojas. Welcome to House Enduring, officially.” He gave me a curt nod as if to accept such a welcome. “I hope you enjoy the party.”
“Given our current company,” Rojas started, eyeing first Quinn and then Chau, “I hope we enjoy the entertainment.”
“I hope that entertainment behaves.” He snorted, a wry smile coming to his face.
“I think you have a better chance of your sister’s dragon becoming flesh and blood. But you didn’t hear that from me.” He beckoned, for a moment, to the woman standing across the room. “I’d like you to meet my Baroness, my lovely wife Grace.”
“Baroness.” I inclined my head to her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise, Baron Bren.” She murmured. “It’s always a pleasure to meet someone that Ro goes on and on about.” I could feel my cheeks heating up, knowing that my face was turning pink.
“Surely I’m not that impressive?” I questioned.
“Well, it’s rare to find someone with a different opinion of how the Badlands could be run. And even rarer to find someone who’s willing to put that opinion into action.” Grace offered. “Baroness Minerva is the only other one I know who would share such an opinion, but until the two of you came along, she was vastly outnumbered in her opinions.”
“Minerva is a valuable ally.” I murmured.
“I can see why.” I let my eyes flick over the room. Most were settling into the swing of things, breaking off into small pods of conversation, sampling the wares of House Enduring. Quinn had a glass of whiskey in one hand and was heading in our direction.
“Here comes the drama.” I remarked lowly and Rojas stifled a chuckle.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Sometimes it really surprised me that he could turn the charm to ten when he wanted to.
“Baron Quinn.” Rojas murmured.
“Baron Rojas. Baroness Grace.” And then his attention settled on me. “Bren.” Oh, this was how the night was going to go?
“You come into my house with the audacity not to call me with my title?”
“Why should I?” Quinn asked, smirking.
“Fine... Quinn. But two can play your game. Do not expect me to extend a courtesy to you when you won’t give it to me.”
“Hm.” Was he expecting something different? “I’d be willing to put coin on you calling me Baron by the end of the night.” How could he be so boldly crass in front of other people? I arched my eyebrow slightly, schooling my expression.
“Excuse me for a moment, will you?” I asked Rojas, turning to face Quinn. “Be careful, Quinn, or I’ll make you cuss my name by the end of the night.” Interest flickered through his expression.
“Bold words.” His fingers touched against me, tipping my chin up.
“So one has to be when dealing with you.” I replied. If he was going to play this game, then so was I. I snatched the drink out of his hand, taking it for my own. “Thank you for the drink... Quinn.” His expression was affronted as I turned my back on him, leaving him to huffily make his way back to the bar.
“So much for behaving.” Rojas murmured.
“At this point I don’t know if that was directed towards me or him.” I wrinkled my nose at the whiskey. “If it’s a game he wants, it’s a game he’ll get.”
“And where one drama leaves, another comes to play.” Rojas tipped his head in the direction of Broadmore and Chau, quickly making their way over in the wake of Quinn’s exit. My oh my, the whiskey was looking tempting right now. Instead I plastered on a fake smile, greeting them both respectfully.
“Baron Broadmore. Baron Chau.”
“Ah, the Gelded Baron himself.” Broadmore smirked. I had the dignity to look down and then back up at him.
“Last I checked, they’re still intact but believe whatever you will, I suppose.” I caught Grace covering her mouth out of the corner of my eye. Whether in shock or amusement, I would never know. Broadmore sputtered out a reply, seemingly incensed by the crass retort.
“With the way you let your Baroness speak for this barony, one would never know.” Chau started.
“Nix and I agree on most things. Why wouldn’t I let her speak for our barony? She holds just as much power as I do.”
“Which is to say none, you mean. You need alliances to have power. And we need our gold to run the Badlands.” Broadmore had recovered, I see.
“My alliances are my business. Find your gold elsewhere, Baron Broadmore.”
“You WILL reopen the mines!” He hissed. There was a presence at my back now, Dominique coming to my side.
“I will do nothing for you, Baron Broadmore. I do not roll over and show my belly to bullies.” I replied coolly. “I thought that much was obvious when I took this barony from Quinn.”
“You mean, when you slept your way to the top.” Chau added. “Come now, don’t think us so naive. There’s only one way to that man’s heart and it’s through his bed.”
“Not that it matters when you’re so dead set on believing this fantasy, but last I checked, Quinn came crawling into my bed and not the other way around.” I retorted.
“You need us to make this barony function.”
“No. I don’t.” Chau looked so affronted at this. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other guests to attend to.” I managed to excuse myself before the conversation got any louder, making my way to the bar with Dominique in tow.
“You gonna drink that?”
“No, and you don’t want to either, considering who it belonged to.” Dominique wrinkled his nose, watching me pour it out. By the time I’d turned around, there was a glass of wine waiting and Dominique had seemingly vanished back into the crowds, deeming his presence no longer needed. That left Minerva and Hassan of people that I still needed to greet. Both had taken up occupance in the corners of the room, seeming to observe the room. I made my way to Hassan first.
“Baron Bren.” He greeted me softly, keeping his voice low and measured.
“Baron Hassan, welcome to House Enduring.”
“Thank you for inviting me. It’s quite the show you’ve put on and I enjoy seeing my work on display.”
“Nothing less than the best.” Hassan offered me a rare smile.
“I’m pleased that you think so. The others do not usually offer such kind words.”
“The others don’t know how to appreciate good handiwork then.” I murmured, taking a sip of my wine.
“I’m sure they do.” Hassan eyed Quinn from across the room. “I can name at least one who got your invitation and decided to commission me for something a little special.” I turned my attention in the direction he was looking, taking a moment to admire Quinn, although I knew I couldn’t let my eyes linger too long. He was dressed rather sharply, maroon jacket with a silver armadillo stitched onto the back.
“Well, I’ll be damned. The devil does look good in red.” I remarked. Hassan barked out a sharp laugh, amused. Of course it’s only a pleasure if it ends up on my bedroom floor. I shook my head, shaking that thought away with another sip of wine. That outcome was highly doubtful.
“I am not so sure that I would be so willing to count him among allies, but you seemed to have intrigued the Armadillo. I suppose only time will tell whether or not that’s a good thing.” I was grateful that he hadn’t read my face like a book, mistaking my silence for quiet contemplation.
“I enjoy Quinn’s company.”
“Really? You two are so different.”
“I enjoy Quinn’s company when he’s not being an ass.” Hassan chuckled lowly.
“That’s fair, I suppose. But I think those moments are rare with him.”
“Perhaps.” I murmured. He touched my arm briefly as we bid our farewells and I turned my attention onto Minerva. Onto Minerva plus cute boy. I hoped my face didn’t show up as beet red as I thought it was turning, making my way over to them.
“Well, well, well, Baron Bren in the flesh.” Minerva started. “Saving the best for last, I see.”
“Well, when you’ve got Quinn, Broadmore, and Chau to serve up the drama for the night...” I started. “Let’s just say it’s a breath of fresh air to be in civilized company.” She chuckled softly.
“Any luck on convincing Hassan to ally with you?”
“Considering he’s between Chau and Broadmore’s territories... I won’t bother. I have a feeling they’ll squeeze him if he gets a little too close to us. But come now, we’re at a party. There will be time to discuss alliances another time. I hope you’re enjoying yourselves.”
“It’s impressive to say the least.” I turned. Gaius had finally spoken. “I half expected someone like Quinn to throw a party like this, not some...”
“Upstart barony?”
“I mean you no offense.” He started, uncertain.
“It’s not offensive. Hells, the share of nicknames have already gone around tonight. What we’re doing is showcasing to other barons that we’re not weak and we’re not going anywhere. It is about alliances, yes, in a roundabout way, as all politics are.”
“Anyone tell you you’re a smart man, Baron Bren?” Gaius offered.
“Sometimes, and then they see me with Quinn and that logical thought usually goes out the window.” Minerva snorted.
“With good reason. The man’s a bull. What you see in him, I’ll never know.” Minerva commented.
“Hm.” I only offered her a wry smile.
“Mineeeeerva.” Quinn’s drawl could be heard across the room. She gave me a pointed look.
“Apparently we are occupying too much of your time.”
“Oh, him? He’s just needy.” I replied, smirking, feeling him at my back. “You play nice with the other barons now, Quinn.”
His grumble told me that remark was unappreciated. Here, a little bit away from the hubbub, he was a little more casual than normal. But then again, I’m sure Minerva was more than well aware of what was between us. I would venture to say that he didn’t like me standing so close to Gaius Chau though. He wasn’t quite touching against my back yet, but he was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him. I knew if I looked up behind me, I’d be greeted with a smirk and some sort of witty remark. But I wasn’t about to let him win this game he was playing in my own house!
Instead I took that fateful step backwards, leaning into his chest. He couldn’t do anything, not here, not now, not with an audience. “You are playing with fire.” Quinn grumbled.
“Would you have me any other way?” I asked. His eyes darkened, and in that moment, I knew we were about to cross each other’s lines. He was about to say something that was going to get him slapped. Instead, I chose the most inopportune moment to take a sip of my wine, inhaling at just the wrong moment as he leaned down to whisper in my ear.
“I’ll have you by the end of the night as long as you’re a good boy, hm?” I choked, nearly snorting the wine out of my nose but recovering the last possible second as I reared back and my hand made contact with the back of his head. The slap echoed across the room as he yelped, giving me a frown as he rubbed the back of his head.
“There is a line and you are crossing it!” I hissed between my teeth, struggling to keep the coughing fit at bay. “Excuse me!”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you offended him.” Minerva’s voice faded as I ducked into a lesser used hallway, taking a moment to catch my breath. From there I could have sworn I caught the tail end of Sunny’s jacket disappearing outside. Well at least one of us would have a moment alone. I, however, appeared to have been followed, and unfortunately that person wasn’t Quinn. Never a dull moment at a party, and never a moment alone it seemed. I would have rather faced his wrath than deal with the hellfire that seemed bound and determined to corner me.
I needed a moment alone. I needed a moment to make sure that no one had slipped beyond the temporary ballroom and gone snooping where they shouldn’t have. I couldn’t have eyes everywhere but I could utilize the eyes I already had, and Dominique was just emerging from the kitchens.
“I need you and Lydia to keep an eye on the party for a moment.”
“Funny,” Dominique peered around my shoulder, seeing and knowing that Juliet Chau was not far behind me. “Baroness Nix said the same thing. And where will you be off to?”
“Sneaking a little time with the Armadillo no doubt.” Chau remarked.
“Why don’t you come with me and see, if you’re so set on this idea?” I asked. Dominique threw me a questioning look. But better one troublemaker be kept out of the party than for him and Lydia to have to keep their eyes on all of them.` “I have a perimeter patrol to make of the estate. It won’t take but a few minutes.”
“If you say so, Baron.” Dominique replied, letting me fall into step with Chau. It was dangerous no doubt; she wasn’t my enemy per se but she wasn’t my ally either.
“You know I’m quite surprised at you. I thought for sure that you would be meeting Quinn.”
“I don't usually conduct that kind of business here. There are too many listening ears and watchful eyes.”
“Business. Mm. Strange thing to call your affair with Quinn.”
“Why does my affair with Quinn interest you?” I asked, eyeing her warily.
“He’s one of the strongest barons in the Badlands. The fact that he would so willingly throw in his lot with you is strange, considering your barony is growing a crop that would rival and compete with his opium production. You have nothing to offer him.”
“No, my barony has nothing to offer him in trade for an alliance. And yet here we are loosely allied anyways. I can’t imagine what would persuade him to stay.” I replied coyly. She let out a dry laugh.
“Oh I think we both know exactly how he’s being persuaded. If I had known that was all it would take to be allied with you, perhaps I should have offered up my brother, but that offer seems to be off the table considering his recent... liberation... from the Fox Territory.”
“You say that like I wouldn’t have liberated him myself the moment you offered him up to me, as if he were meat in front of a wild dog. Reasons like this only solidify my decision to not ally with you. You treat your people like shit.”
“They’re Cogs, Baron Bren.”
“My people are civilians! My staff are paid!” I turned on her. “I provide my people with the basic necessities to live because I find that power based on fear is brittle. They work because they want to, not because they have to!”
“You are naive!” Chau hissed. Our raised voices must have attracted attention because in that moment, I heard one of the doors creak open and looked behind me-- a mistake really-- to see a pair of eyes peek from behind the door. “What’s this then?” She asked, using the split second of my hesitation to yank one of the older children from behind the door. By the time her blade came flying out to threaten them, I’d put myself in front of them and the tip of her blade grazed over my cheek and nose. “A tiny spy?”
“A child. A child orphaned by the coup d’etat that Ryder and Zypher orchestrated!” I snarled, feeling rage build in my chest. “You do not get to come into my house and threaten my people!”
“Or what?” Chau asked, almost taunting. I pushed the frightened child back into the room gently, making a mental note to send a nanny in there as soon as I could, shielding the door, hopefully to prevent any more intrusions.
“Or this!” I growled, coming down on all fours in the shape of a bear. She shrieked, startled, and booked it down the hallway with me in pursuit, steps thundering behind her as a growl ripped from my throat. Chau burst out in the ballroom, her Clippers immediately at attention at their baron’s distress.
“Bear!” She pointed in my direction but I had taken the moment that she’d gathered attention to her to shift back into my human form, smoothing out the wrinkles in my jacket.
“What? You didn’t like my little party trick?” I asked sarcastically. “Keep your blades to yourself, Baron Chau. Or you will find out the hard way why I am called a dragon lord.” I’m sure my eyes were cold, and the presence of blood on my face immediately brought Lydia to my side.
“What happened?” She asked, fussing. The cut wasn’t deep thankfully, and I could mend it here in a moment as soon as I could.
“Nothing important.” I replied, keeping an eye on Chau. “I need you to find someone to mind the children. Chau got her hands on one of them. I’m going to find myself a snack.” I lowered my voice. “That little altercation has taken too much out of me.”
“Should I get Nix?”
“I believe that it’s been sufficiently handled. I don’t think she’ll go snooping anywhere anytime soon.” I replied, heading for the kitchen since none of the appetizers looked remotely appealing. Gods be damned, I couldn’t get a blessed moment of peace in this household with all these barons, because as soon as I was rooting through the fridge for some cheese, Quinn cleared his throat from behind me and my head snapped up, forgetting that I was halfway buried in the fridge. “Ow!” Now my pride was definitely wounded and I emerged from the fridge with a scowl, eyeing Quinn (and Declan behind him, ugh) and rubbing the back of my head with one hand and holding a block of cheese with the other. I squinted in his direction, eyes watering.
“Where’s Sunny?” Declan asked.
“Why the fuck are you asking me?” I asked, grabbing a knife from the knife block and cutting myself a piece of cheese. “Do I look like I know where Sunny is?”
“You look like someone who got their ass handed to them.” Declan remarked.
“Keep talking and test my temper and see if I won’t put you through a wall again!” I snapped. Quinn made his way over to me, hands on my face and I winced as he ran his thumb under the cut.
“It’s not deep. But it needs to be cleaned regardless.”
“I will take care of it, in a MINUTE.” I growled. “Let me eat, for fuck’s sake, before anyone else decides that they want to be a casualty in my wrath!” That got him quiet. I sat down to the table with a plate of cheese and some desserts that we had decided weren’t gold-star quality enough to be served to our guests. What’s worse was that that particular commotion seemed to draw Dominique and Sarah into the kitchen and to my side. No, I didn’t want all these people here and I definitely didn’t want Declan pestering me about where Sunny was. I managed to stuff my face full in a very undignified manner to keep the questions off of me at least for a minute, washing it down with a glass of water.
And then they started again. “Where is Sunny?!” Quinn wasn’t one for patience today, I see.
“Why are you asking me where Sunny is?!” I threw my hands up in frustration, standing and nearly upsetting the table. “I totally wasn’t in here sneaking dessert or anything.”
Declan wrinkled his nose. “That’s worse.”
I reached over and smacked him in the back of the head. Unfortunately my strength wasn’t quite up to par yet and it was a weak reflection of what I’d hit Quinn with earlier. “Not everything is about sex, you know!”
“Where is--” Quinn was red with blustering anger, and I couldn’t tell at the moment if it was aimed at me or Declan.
“Why the fuck are you yelling in my kitchen, Baron Quinn?” Thank the gods for Nix’s interruption. Her voice carried over the commotion easily. And just at the moment, Sunny poked his head into the kitchen from the doorway that led back out of the ballroom.
“I believe I heard you asking for me, Baron?” Declan’s jaw dropped.
“How did he sneak around so quickly?!”
“He wasn’t with me, you morons!” I snapped, gesturing. “You followed me in here! You know I wasn’t with Sunny. What are you trying to accuse me of?!”
“But you were sneaking around!” Declan retorted.
“I hardly made it secret enough for it to be called sneaking around, but if you must know, it’s because parties aren’t my thing. We did this because it was expected of us. I know that as Baron I have social obligations and that’s it. I legitimately went to go get a snack. Why am I being harassed about it in my own house?!” I saw Nix roll her eyes out of the corner of my eye.
“Because the Armadillo and his crony don’t have two brain cells to rub together.” Well that was fair. At this moment, yes I agreed with her. We had gone from Quinn seeming to actually care that I’d been wounded to him jumping on Declan’s ‘where is Sunny’ train. I smirked for a moment.
“Besides, if I wanted that kind of dessert, I wouldn’t be going to Sunny.” Nix made a face as Declan gagged. Some sort of vague approval mixed with interest filtered across Quinn’s face before he seemed to shake it off.
“You have your regent; leave my brother alone. And stop snooping around my grounds or I’ll sic my dragon on you.” Quinn grumbled out in Nix’s direction.
“I wanted Sunny to put Chau in her place.” I glanced up at him curiously. His face was unusually set in stone, eyes glittering in anger. How the man could jump from one train of thought to another so quickly and with such fierce emotion baffled me at times.
Nix raised an eyebrow slightly. “What did that bitch do now?” And I finally turned to face her, the ugly truth revealed.
“She may have drawn blood.”
May have?! Nix didn’t even need to say it for me to hear it in my mind. Her expression went from incredulous to eerily calm in half a second. “Where. Is. She?” I saw Sunny’s eyes widen in recognition as he realized what was about to go down.
“Nix, remember. You’re a baroness now.” But that wasn’t about to deter her.
“And this bitch broke Guest Rights in my home!” She stomped out of the kitchen, and my weak protest to her seemed to go unheard. Oh shit.
I took a minute to make myself look presentable before heading back out into the fray. With Quinn on my heels, I definitely wasn’t expecting to immediately be flanked by Chau and Broadmore and their entourage of Clippers as soon as I made my way back into the ballroom.
Two, four, six, eight, I took in a deep breath, trying to assess for weakness as blood thundered in my ears. I could see Quinn out of the corner of my eye over the heads of the Clippers, with Sunny’s hands on his chest, and a stormcloud brewing on his face, his sword drawn in brazen anger. He was probably yelling but I couldn’t hear him. I couldn’t hear him: that shook me more than anything. I didn’t want my back to Broadmore, but I also wasn’t going to turn it on Chau either.
“Listen here, you runt. We will not stand aside as you and your sister continue to take our cogs. We’ve worked too hard to make the Badlands what they are.” Chau threatened, but it was like her voice was far away, drowned out by water or by the beat of my heart. The blade she held in her hand was still stained copper red with the blood she had drawn earlier. I held my head high but I knew there was panic in my eyes. I could feel the shift in my bones, feel it brewing in my chest, begging to be released. But I couldn’t do that here, and terrify our people in the process. Chau smirked down at me.
“What’s this? Not even willing to defend yourself? I guess those rumors we heard from the Armadillo are false. There’s only one dragon lord. You can’t even defend yourself. Oh, Bren,” I bristled at the use of my name in her condescending little coo, “Why do you even try to run a barony? We both know you’re not one for confrontations in public. Especially violent ones. It’s just not your style.” I looked over her shoulder and nearly breathed a sigh of relief because Nix was standing there, murder in her eyes.
“You’re right. It’s not. It’s hers.” I replied, making it a point to crane my head to look beyond her and Chau slowly turned to see Nix standing there, pulling Dark Sister from the sheath on her back.
“You broke my rules, Juliet. Clippers, gūrogon zirȳla!” (Gūrogon zirȳla - Take her)
Dominique grabbed my arm as soon as Chau was flanked, pulling me out of the commotion. I knew I was supposed to follow them but the world was just too loud right now and as the party seemed to move outside, I found myself being caught in Lydia’s hands.
“Please tell me you have good news.” I murmured, taking a seat on the porch, seemingly dazed.
“The situation has been handled.” She replied softly. I tried to focus my eyes on her, on her words, on her face, on the touch of her hands on my knee, and tried to make my world stop spinning for a moment. “Are you alright? You’re shaking.”
“Mm.” I made a face. To tell her that I wanted to hide behind Quinn seemed like a less than good idea. I couldn’t even see him among the mess that was happening in our front courtyard; hells, I couldn’t see Nix but I sure as hell saw Meraxes. “I need to be out there. I need to show them that I’m not weak.”
With a little help from Lydia, I made my way to Nix’s side, although there was still ringing in my ears and Meraxes’ roar certainly didn’t help with that. But I couldn’t clutch my head and go down now, not in front of all these people. So I set my jaw and stood tall, willing the dizziness away.
“We don’t need your alliance. Or yours, Broadmore.” She met his eyes with a scowl. “Your weapons are not a necessity. We are forging our own as Meraxes watches our lands. Nothing you produce will take her down and nothing you do will stop me from protecting everyone under my care. You want to give me a nickname? Call me Firebreather. Because that’s exactly what will happen the next time I catch you two on our lands.”
The silence that followed was deafening, not that I could particularly tell, only trying to read the uncertainty of the crowd. And then Baron Rojas broke it.
“I will make it known now, in front of everyone, that you will always find an ally in my barony, Baron Bren and Baroness Nix. House Tyrell will support House Targaryen.” That brought a smile to Nix’s face, and then Minerva followed the vow of alliance.
“As will my barony. Hell, I’ll even offer a few suitor choices to solidify the alliance since the both of you are still single.” Nix snorted as even more red began to tint my face. Thank the gods it was cold out and I could blame it on that.
Rojas cleared his throat. “As will I. There may be a person or two in my barony taken with Baron Bren, if that is alright.” Oh. Oh. I was definitely red now and I knew Nix found this highly amusing.
“We can discuss possible courtship offers at a later time. For now, House Enduring accepts your offer for alliance and gives ours in return.” At that moment, Quinn cleared his throat and the crowd grew silent.
“I, also, offer my alliance to Baron Bren.” Oh that cheeky little shit. Of course he wouldn’t actually offer an alliance to our House. I could see Chau smirk at me, even from her position at the edge of Nix’s blade. Hassan remained quiet but we met eyes from across the clearing and I knew he couldn’t jeopardize himself to support us, and that was fair. Nix turned her attention back onto Chau.
“Run.”
“What?”
“Run, little rabbit. For the dragon is hungry and you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.” I could have laughed if the situation weren’t so serious. Meraxes’ eyes glowed bright red and the color drained from Chau’s face. She scrambled to her feet and raced for the gate, her regent and small Clipper force at her feet. Nix turned towards Broadmore, who began to usher his wives in the same direction.
Nix lowered her sword as I turned to her. “Well, you certainly know how to end a party.”
She smirked in my direction. “Hey, it took the focus off you.”
“Suitors?” I asked, frowning.
“Let’s discuss that later. Right now, we should probably see the rest of our guests off. It’s been a long night.”
It had been far too long a night. My ears were still ringing; my cheek and nose still burned with the unattended cut, and I could still feel the remnants of adrenaline pumping through my body. But she was right; we should be seeing the others off. Both Rojas and Hassan knew the cues to know when the party was over and bid us a quiet goodnight as they made their way to the gates, ushering out their family and their Clippers. Minerva stuck around for a moment more, giving me an appraising look. They all knew that I had a history in being captured. They all knew that I had a history of being unpleasantly surrounded.
“You handled yourself well tonight.” She murmured quietly. “It could have gotten bloody.”
“Maybe it should have.” I retorted. “Maybe I should have shown them that they can’t just walk all over me.” Some sort of approval lit in her eyes.
“I’ll look forward to the day then. Goodnight, Baron Bren.”
“Goodnight, Baroness.” She rolled her eyes and ushered her party out. That left Quinn, at the bar with his back turned on us. I made my way over to find him pouring himself a glass of whiskey, growling under his breath. He jumped when I touched his side, elbow coming flying back like he expected an attack but I leaned out of the way, hand grazing across his arm and the fight seemed to leave him as soon as he realized it was me. “Are you alright?” He grumbled out a reply, taking a sip of his whiskey and seeming to wince. “Quinn?” I questioned softly.
“I’m fine!” He glowered in my direction, but he wouldn’t face me either and I tugged him away from the bar, seeing a flash of red that wasn’t the red of his jacket, crimson blossoming on the white shirt beneath.
“What did you do?!” I chided, moving the jacket aside to see a jagged tear in his shirt, blood staining the area around it.
“It’s just a scratch.” He muttered.
“Clearly not.” I replied, “Or you wouldn’t be guarding it like a wounded animal. What in the seven hells did you get into?”
“An altercation with Chau’s Regent.” Sunny replied. I nearly jumped out of my skin. Seemed like everybody’s nerves were on edge.
“Um,” I shook my head, trying to get rid of fuzzies for a moment, regretting it almost immediately, “Come with me.” I tugged on Quinn’s hand, taking him into the small infirmary that we kept in the house to tend to minor wounds and ailments, sitting him down as I flitted around, gathering supplies to tend to him. “Shirt off, please.” I couldn’t tell if he was begrudging about it or not. He certainly took his time, but that could have been for any number of reasons related to the pain.
“I don’t suppose you have any...” Quinn hissed out through his teeth as I dabbed at the gash gently, cleaning it.
“We don’t really make an effort to keep opium stocked in this house.” I murmured, placing my hand against his side, focusing my intentions on diverting pain away as I carefully stitched the wound. His brow furrowed as he looked down at me.
“That feels strange.” I heard his words but they were still far away. The more I knew about the way his body healed, the better chance I had of helping him in the long run.
“‘M sorry.” I sat back on my heels, cleaning the blood away. Seems practice was starting to pay off. Quinn leaned back in the chair, taking another sip of his whiskey. “Thank you.” I started. “For helping. Although I’m sure Nix would have words for you about getting involved.”
“They had you surrounded. They could have...”
“They could have tried.” I replied. “But I don’t really relish in the fact that one day I’ll have to shift, that I’ll have to scare the wits out of everyone around me.” His eyes met mine and I knew, I knew, that we were both thinking about that day down in his armory.
“Your people don’t know?” He asked. “And here I thought you kept no secrets in this barony.”
“Mm. They know a little bit. They know about the dragon. And they probably know it’s me. But just seeing the dragon and seeing me transform into the dragon? Well there’s nothing exactly pretty about that.”
“Did you really turn into a bear and chase Chau down the hallway?” I gave him an only slightly evil grin.
“She deserved it.” Quinn rumbled out an amused chuckle, leaning forward with a grimace to run his fingers down the side of my cheek. I couldn’t help but to lean into his touch, sinking into the warmth of his hand.
“I believe I’ve overstayed my welcome.” Maybe.
“Stay the night.” I found myself saying, glancing back up at him. He raised his eyebrows slightly.
“Your Baroness would not be fond of--”
“My Baroness doesn’t have to know. Send Declan back to the Fort. You and Sunny can stay the night. I’ll arrange guest quarters.” Quinn barked out a laugh. “Unless you’d prefer another arrangement... Baron.” I knew I’d played my ace just right, fingers gripping into his thighs as I hoisted myself up, towering over him if but for a minute.
“Hells.” Quinn snarled under his breath.
“I mean, unless you don’t want to stay...” That time he definitely growled.
“Goddamn you, Bren.” He muttered.
“Stay the night with me.” I whispered, lowering my head to press a kiss at the corner of his mouth, knowing that he couldn’t resist taking more. I could taste the burn of whiskey on his tongue, losing myself for a moment in the heat of his mouth. “Or do you need more convincing? I’m sure there are other ways I could--”
“You do that and you won’t make it to your quarters before I rail you.” Quinn growled.
“Well then, you go tell Declan off and I’ll find guest quarters for Sunny. I trust you know the way back?” I asked, letting up my pressure on his legs. I could have sworn I heard him whimper in my wake as he threw on his shirt and jacket again, looking very pleased with myself as I made my way back to the now empty ballroom where our staff were still cleaning. Declan and Sunny were at the bar. I was doubtful they were commiserating over whiskey but I approached them regardless just as Quinn’s voice thundered across the hall.
“Declan!”
“Christ.” Declan swore under his breath, taking the glass with him as he went.
“Well he’s in a fit.” Sunny muttered. “And you looked pleased with yourself which tells me everything I don’t want to know.”
“I’m here to show you to guest quarters.” I replied.
“Are you keeping my baron occupied or are you henning him?”
“I’ll leave you to wonder.” I murmured. “Regardless, it doesn’t matter. He won’t be leaving my quarters once he gets in them.” Sunny snorted.
“Gross.” I led Sunny down the hallway to appropriate guest quarters in Nix’s wing of the estate. “I suppose he’s sending Declan on his way?”
“Well he’s certainly not staying here, as nosy as he tends to be.” I replied, taking the key out of the door and checking the room before handing it over to Sunny. “You know your way around. All I ask is that you don’t go anywhere where Quinn could feasibly find you.”
Sunny gave me a look. “You and I both know he won’t go looking.” I only smiled at him, chuckling softly as I made my way to the front door where Quinn was ordering Declan out. I got icy glare from the latter as he made his way to the back of his horse and turned his attention out of our barony, issuing haste to the horse beneath him to make sure that he was returned to the Fort whether he wanted to be or not.
Quinn joined me at the porch railing, pressing himself against my back, hands over my own. I let out a contented sigh, leaning back into his touch.
“Do all parties end in chaos?” I asked.
“Welcome to the Badlands.” He replied. “And what’s this I hear about baronies offering up suitors to you? Single? You?” My breath caught in my throat as he pressed a kiss to the side of my neck with the hint of a growl in his voice. “I apparently didn’t make it clear enough who you belonged to.”
“Apparently not.” I teased. His mouth drifted lower, fingers tugging down the jacket to my shoulders so that he could suckle in a bruise, making sure to leave a mark on me.
“Well I’ll just have to remedy that, won’t I?” He asked, free hand busy working at the buttons of my shirt. Cheeky.
“Baron?” Both of us turned to the intrusion, Quinn especially with a growl, definitely not having been caught red handed at all, nope, to see Sarah at the door. “Apologies, I thought everyone was uh...” She glanced away.
“The hour is late. Whatever is cleaned is cleaned. The rest can wait until tomorrow. You have a lovely night, Sarah.”
“Thank you, Baron. Goodnight.” With that she made a hasty exit. I couldn’t help but giggle a little bit. It wasn’t risque at all but it was certainly compromising.
“We should probably find our way inside.” I murmured, pressing my hand to the side of Quinn’s head.
“You’re too lenient with your staff.”
“You know damn well that you and I differ on our policies on how to run a barony. Don’t you come in here with that bullshit unless you’re looking for a fight.” I leaned back into Quinn, looking up at him. “We both know you would rather fuck me.”
“Mmmm.” He gave me the kind of look that told me I wasn't wrong but he wasn’t willing to admit it either, following me inside and through the estate to my quarters. “You clean that wound on your face before it gets worse.” He ordered as I locked the door.
“Yes Mother.” I groused as he gave me a look, eyes on my back as I made my way into the bathroom, taking a moment to clean the cut, hissing out between my teeth as I used my druidic healing prowess to heal it into a nice clean scar. If only I had been able to get to it earlier... but what was in the past was in the past. I eyed the chair across from Quinn; gods that was appealing, but I knew as soon as I stopped moving, I would be so reluctant to get up again. Instead I set out some cannabis to burn in an incense dish, the hazy tendrils of smoke beginning to spiral into the air.
“Cannabis. Your prized vice of choice.” Quinn rumbled out. “It’s a shame that you don’t stock any--”
I cut him off. “My prized vice of choice is you.” I planted myself across his knee. “Do you really need the opium to make you feel good? Am I not enough for you? Is my body not enough for you... Baron?” I could feel him quiver beneath me.
“Oh, you are a minx.”
“Would you have me any other way?” I whispered, a breath away from his lips.
“I could have you on your knees.” Quinn replied. “Between my thighs. Your pretty little lips wrapped around my cock. Like a good boy. Like my pretty boy.” You know, given all that’s happened tonight... Would it really be such a sin to indulge? I let my thoughts drift, sliding to the floor, fingers unbuckling his sword belt, letting it fall to the floor. He groaned out beneath my touch, hand freeing his cock. “Brennn...”
“You sing sweet when you want something.” I purred, flicking my tongue over the head of his cock and watching his eyes roll back. “Keep going.” His hand snapped to the back of my head, fingers knotting in my hair, pressing the heel of his hand against my head. It wasn’t really to force me down as much as it was to test his limits with the pressure but I went under it willingly, sinking my mouth down on him, going as far as I could go without it putting an unpleasant amount of pressure on my newly healed scar.
“Oh, you’re such a good boy.” Quinn crooned. “So eager for your baron’s cock, hm?” After tonight? I doubt anyone would believe me if I said there was some normalcy to being with Quinn like this, but he did exactly what I wanted him to do, exactly what I needed him to do: be that distraction that would make me forget the night. I wanted him in control, wanted him to be that baron so I could throw away my title and pretend that I was his pet for the night.
He smoothed his other hand down my cheek, fingers cupping my jaw. “I just want to fuck your pretty mouth.” Oh, the devil was tempting me. I drew back for a moment, breaking my rhythm.
“I’ll let you, if that’s what you want.” I offered. He gave me this curious glance, as if to wonder if I really did enjoy him being in control.
“You’re certain?”
“You’d know if I wasn’t.” I replied, and he didn’t need any more encouragement than that. I shifted into a more accessible position the moment he stood, letting his hand press back against my head. His thumb pressed against my lips and I followed the guidance, letting him take control. Both hands pressed against the side of my head and I couldn’t help but purr out a pleased sound. The pressure was exquisite, and I could forget everything at his every beck and whim.
“Gods, Bren.” Quinn moaned then, losing a little bit of his control, fucking himself into my throat. There wasn’t anything else to concentrate on like this, except to dig my fingers in the back of his thighs and yank him closer, practically gagging myself on his cock and listening to the way he moaned for me. “Fuckkk...” He growled lowly, tugging on my hair, getting another sound out of me, getting exactly what he wanted, just that little bit of extra stimulation. “Fuck you, you filthy little baron. You’ve been teasing me all night and now I’m not gonna last long enough to enjoy you...” Quinn snarled. Teasing him all night? Oh, I had hardly gotten started but perhaps that was for the better. Gods only know what would happen if he got his hands on me after I’d really teased him. Unless he was really telling me that I’d gotten him all hot and bothered on our first interaction and well, that could certainly explain why he was so interested in hounding me for the majority of the party. I glanced up at him, managing a smirk even with my mouth occupied and that seemed to be the final straw for him. “I’m gonna fucking ruin that mouth of yours. See if you backsass me again.” He groaned out, hips jerking sharply, body tensing as he came. He had no decency either to give me a little bit of space, leaving me to choke down on him. The bastard probably enjoyed it, all things considered.
“Backsass you?” I asked, looking up at him, eyes glittering in amusement. I ran my tongue over that spot that made him weak-kneed, making him grab my hair with a hiss between his teeth. “You just gave me more reason to.”
Sunny sighed heavily. Well tonight had been... a fiasco to say the least of it. When he’d first heard about House Enduring hosting this party, he’d considered it a bold move. They were showcasing their strengths to the other baronies, proving that they were here to stay. He nursed a glass of whiskey as he took a seat on the couch in the living room, watching the staff wrap up their tasks and turn in for the night. He didn’t want to know where or what Bren had corralled Quinn into. Declan’s reaction earlier to Bren calling his baron a dessert left little to the imagination, and Sunny ventured to say that Declan had probably seen a little too much of Quinn at some point or another.
“Sunny?” Lydia’s voice cut his train of thought. “If you’re here, does that mean...” She trailed off in the unspoken question: Quinn’s still here?
“Oh, trust me when I say that wherever he is, you don’t need to go looking for him. He’s occupied.” Lydia wrinkled her nose.
“Ew.”
“I take it you don’t approve.”
“It’s not really my business.” Lydia replied. “Quinn is my ex-husband, and Bren is my Baron. Do I think Bren is too good for him? Absolutely. Am I going to interfere? Not a chance.”
“He’s gonna end up getting hurt.”
“If Nix can’t even get in between them, what chance do any of us have?” Lydia asked. “She’s in the office. Something about not being able to sleep.”
Sunny made his way in the direction that Lydia had pointed, finding the office door open and Nix at the desk. “Up for company?” He asked, knocking on the door.
“Sunny?” Nix blinked. “What are you, mmm? Don’t answer that question; I don’t want to know. Did Quinn at least send the dipshit home before he went gallivanting somewhere he shouldn’t be?”
“Declan is definitely gone.” Sunny replied.
“So my brother invited you to stay the night. Risky.”
“I doubt Quinn will be wandering around.” Nix made a face, shaking her head. “He took a blow from Chau’s Regent, and Bren seemed agitated by it. He’s either henning Quinn or other things, but either way, Quinn is occupied.”
“Ugh, why does my brother’s taste in men have to be a rabid bear? Gaius freaking Chau showed up to the party tonight and Bren didn’t even give him a chance, a chance. I’m telling you he would make a much better brother-in-law than whatever Quinn’s got going on.” Sunny snorted, taking a seat in one of the office armchairs.
“If it gives you any consolation, I doubt Bren had a choice in not noticing Gaius Chau because as soon as they started up conversation, yours truly was interrupting.” Nix rolled her eyes. “I won’t pretend to know what exactly is going on between my baron and your brother...”
“All you need to know is that it won’t end well. Because it’s Quinn.”
“Mm... Lydia shares that opinion as well. He... acts differently around Bren... sometimes. I couldn’t call it caring myself; I’ve known Quinn since I was a child and he doesn’t care about people, but he also doesn’t act around people the way he does around Bren.”
“That’s not exactly reassuring.” Nix replied.
“You said it yourself. There’s something there, something rising topside in Quinn.” Sunny took a sip of his whiskey. “I won’t say I approve but...” He let the sentence fall. “I’m sure there are more interesting things we could be talking about than my baron. Lydia said you couldn’t sleep?” Nix shrugged.
“I’ll sleep when I get tired. Tonight’s been... too much. I mean, I should have expected it. I should have known that someone would cause drama, be it Quinn or anyone else.”
“Well it is the Badlands. Alliances are ever-shifting here, for the most part. Your barony seems dead set on changing that. I look forward to seeing how that shapes the future.” Sunny sighed. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to come to bed?” Nix raised an eyebrow at him.
“Is that an invitation?”
“Absolutely.”
I had landed on my back in my own bed before I had the time to think about what was happening to me and there was a very deliciously naked man on top of me. How he had the strength to function with those stitches in his side, I would never know. “You are wearing far too much.” Quinn grumbled.
“You’re the one who threw me here, you know.” I replied. I placed my hand on his side, prompting a wince, hoping that it would slow him down a little bit as he worked through the buttons of my shirt, tugging it loose.
“Infuriating.”
“You seem to enjoy it.” I managed to wiggle out of the jacket and shirt in one go. “You can’t really mean to tell me that you have enough stamina to go again?” I asked in disbelief.
“I wish.” Quinn grunted. “Doesn’t mean I can’t make you come screaming my name.”
“If you can get me to scream it, I’d say you’d earned a victory.” I retorted, raising up on my elbows to be greeted with a bruising kiss, Quinn pinning me back into the bed. “Can’t remember the last time, if any time, that a man has made me scream his name in bed.”
“Not trying hard enough.” Quinn replied, hands wandering. Not trying hard enough? Oooh, this man was arrogant. I shook my head slightly, leaning into the touch of his fingers on my body as they traced their way down, touching anywhere but exactly where I wanted him to touch. I let the shiver roll through me, arching myself against his thigh. He smirked back down at me, resting the palm of his hand against my cock. “Oh come now, where’s that spot that makes you squirm... Baron Bren?”
“Oh don’t call me that here. Call me anything but that.” I murmured. “Unless you want to kill the mood that is.” He tilted his head to the side.
“You don’t like the title.” Quinn realized. “At least not on yourself. Mmmm.” He rumbled out a growl, eyes darkening as he gazed down at me. “You like it when your baron takes care of you, hm? Like it when your baron takes care of his pretty boy?” I raised an eyebrow in his direction. He knew he’d gotten exactly what he wanted; that much was obvious when he had his hand pressed against me. “Hm?”
“Yes... Baron.” His smile was nothing less than a self-satisfied smug smirk, working at my pants. Hells, I could get out of my pants faster than this but the impatient wiggle was quickly stifled and oh, he was doing this on purpose. He was dragging this on and on, amused by my reactions. “You fucking prick.” I muttered under my breath.
“Oh?”
“And you have the nerve to call me a tease.”
“The difference is that you can’t stand it when I tease you.” Quinn crooned, leaning in close to me. “You can’t bear it when I take my time. You want it now. Where’s the fun in that?” He teased, wrapping his hand around my cock, thumb smearing precum across the tip. I couldn’t help the hiss that made its way through my teeth, instinctively rolling my body into his own with a whimper. Why did his hand always feel so much better than my own?
“Oh, you make such pretty little noises.” He leaned in to kiss me again and this time I couldn’t help but thread my fingers into his hair, tugging lightly. “Moan for me. I wanna hear how good you feel with my hand wrapped around your cock.”
“Quinn.” It all came out in one rushed breath, torn between trying to obey and the heat of pleasure that was beginning to spread. And then his hand started to move in steady strokes and I knew I had lost this game. “Quinn!” I whined that time.
“I can’t hear you, pet.” I leaned up, seeking a kiss and he denied me.
“You...!” I whined again. He tsked.
“Needy.”
“Kiss me!” I tugged on his hair again but he was less than willing to move, eyeing me down. “Quinnnn!” It was a little louder than I was used to being and that fact embarrassed me more than anything, pink tinting my cheeks. “Fuck, Quinn, you fucking bastard!” I snapped.
“I could shut you up if you’re going to be so rude.” He retorted, hand resting snugly under my chin. Well, that was precarious. And worse was that I was turned on by it, and that all rational thought was leaving me.
“I fucking dare you.” I didn’t think he would be the one to take the challenge lightly, and I was correct in that guess. He didn’t press in hard, but his hand closed around my throat regardless and that delicious pressure plus his hand on my cock meant that I wasn’t going to last. “Fuck.” I knew my voice was strangled around his hand. “Harder.” For a brief second, I saw him raise his eyebrows at me, uncertain. “Please.” I could feel my heart beating against his hand as he squeezed just a little tighter, my breath coming strained. “Fuck yes, Quinn.” His touch was the flame of pleasure, a raging inferno right at boiling point. “Quinn! You’re gonna make me cum!” I dug my nails into his back, crying out his name as ecstasy took over.
By the time I could think rationally again, Quinn was sitting back on his heels, giving me a rather appraising look. “What?” I asked.
“You’re dangerous.” I peered up at him.
“What makes you say that?”
“I don’t know anyone, any man or woman, who would invite me into their bed and then get off on me choking them out.” Quinn retorted. “You do know I’m a Clipper, right? And not just a Baron?”
“I wouldn’t have let you get that far.” I replied, sitting up on my elbows. “I know my limits. I learned them the hard way.” He raised an eyebrow at that.
“If you’re going to tell me that you practice that behind closed doors when you’re alone...”
“And if I do?”
“You’re insane.” Quinn replied. I gave him a dry laugh.
“Maybe. But I also don’t like being teased, and I know how to push your buttons.” I sat up carefully, sinking into the pillows behind me. “It’s called breath play. And I do enjoy it.” A bath would be in order soon, but that could wait a minute, because Quinn was leaning into me, resting his head against my chest.
“I told you I could make you scream my name.”
“That’s mortifying.” I replied. “Glad that my room is shielded. No one else needs to hear what we’ve been up to.”
“How disappointing. I would have loved to rub it in to--”
“You are a rude-ass man.” I muttered, running my fingers through his hair. He grumbled out a reply. I would take the rare moments that I got to have him like this. Yes, the relationship was mostly sex and a strange dynamic at that, but there was... there was something more. There was something almost soft about him when we were alone like this in the post haze of pleasure. “And you owe me a kiss.”
“Oh do I now?” Quinn grumbled.
“More than one actually.” He snorted, rolling his eyes at me. It was a while before he spoke again.
“I-- tonight could have ended badly.” I blinked, looking down at him.
“I get the feeling you’re not talking about the sex.”
“I’m serious, Bren.” Was the genuine worry in his voice? “They could have killed you.” I almost didn’t know how to respond.
“You still really think that my best place in the Badlands is sitting in your office, reading your books, isn’t it?” I asked.
“I wish you wouldn’t have taken this barony on your shoulders.” He finally replied.
“I have my sister. We share the burden equally.”
“But you don’t really, do you? Because you care too much.”
“I don’t find my compassion a flaw.” I murmured, tipping his head back so that I could meet his eyes. “Not a chance I could get you to tell me what this is really about, could I?” I asked. He looked away. Not ready for that discussion, I suppose. “I’m going to run a bath. Join me.” He sat up somewhat reluctantly.
“I should go.”
“I need you to stay.” I was surprised how quick that came out of my mouth.
“The wound is nothing, Bren. You don’t have to hen me!” He nearly turned on me with how quick his change in attitude was.
“I need you to stay because I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.” I whispered. His expression softened for a minute. “I recognize that I was put in a precarious position tonight. That...” I took in a deep breath, steadying myself. “Reminded me of my time out in the wilds. Please, Quinn. Stay.” He nodded to me, our hands finding each other, fingers linking together. We stayed that way a minute more before I finally managed to stand, making my way to the bathroom.
“You managed to handle yourself well.” Quinn started, watching me run the bathwater hot. “For a moment, I was worried that you would turn and bite someone.”
“Maybe if they’d gotten too close I would have.” I replied. The teasing was light-hearted and gentle, rare from Quinn. He took a seat on the edge of the tub as I dipped in, shaking his head as he tested the water temperature.
“You seem to be some sort of lava sprite. Think I’ll wait.”
“Of course you’re the kind of man who can’t stand heat.” I murmured, sinking into the water. Time was the essence; I was tired and this body had had enough for the night. I wasted little time in cleaning up, toweling off in a heartbeat. I pressed my hands into his back. “But you can’t tell me this doesn’t feel good.” I ran my fingers along the arch of his spine listening to him rumble out a sound beneath me. I pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Get cleaned up. I’ll be waiting for you.”
For a man who didn’t treat well with being ordered, he certainly could listen when he wanted to. I tossed on a shirt and some underwear, changing out the sheets, taking a moment more to pick up our clothes and fold them neatly. Another time maybe, I could have been persuaded to at least mend his shirt and jacket but now sleep was calling my name and I was surrendering myself to bed. I only vaguely recognized Quinn joining me in the bed, tucking myself up against him as the night finally came to an end.
Morning came way too fast. I wasn’t usually the one to rise with the dawn, but a gnawing hunger finally drove me from bed. It almost surprised me that Quinn was still here; he’d almost been adamant that I not take care of him, for whatever reason. I couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to his brow, lips lingering on a scar. He hardly stirred but the little rumble he let out told me that he was awake, or at least somewhat awake.
“I have to eat.”
“I could give you--”
“Don’t you dare start.” I shook my head at him warningly, throwing on some pants and tossing my hair up into a messy bun, wandering down the hallways to the kitchen. The sun hadn’t even started rising yet and I wasn’t about to bother any of our staff after the late night they’d all had last night. But despite the pressing issue to eat, I knew that eating wasn’t going to entirely solve the problem, so I grabbed something quick and made my way down to the infirmary.
It was staffed overnight, but Veil was just setting up for the day. She paused on seeing me in the doorway. “Good morning, Baron.”
“You know you can call me Bren.” I replied. “Any chance I can get some bloodwork done?”
“You? Being pre-emptive in your care?” She teased softly. “Of course. Take a seat and I’ll be there in a moment.” I took a seat nearby, trying to block out the dizziness, trying to block out the nausea. It was like last night all over again but I couldn’t tell at the moment if that was because of a low blood sugar or because I was remembering all the events of the night before. If she took notice of my quietness, she didn’t say anything, wrapping the band around my upper arm and swabbing the inside of my elbow. “This might sting.”
I was no stranger to it, but I still looked away at the first prick of the needle. “Been sleeping alright?”
“As much as my mind will let me.” She chuckled wryly.
“When’s the last time you ate something?”
“Last night, at the party, somewhere in between Quinn and Declan interrogating me.”
“I heard it got out of hand.” Veil murmured. “I take it you had a tussle.” I shrugged slightly watching her collect a few vials, taping off the exit wound with gauze. She tipped my chin up, examining the scar on my face in the light. “I’m surprised we didn't have any visitors to the infirmary last night, all things considered.”
“I was able to take care of the other injury. Besides, unless you fancy having the Armadillo in your infirmary...” I trailed off, helping myself to the snack I’d brought with me.
“Oh, I’ve heard stories from my father about how tetchy he can be. Hopefully he didn’t give you a hard time.”
“Well, my stitches seem to be improving.” She shook her head.
“You are a bold man, Baron Bren.” It was quiet in the infirmary other than the quiet whirring of machines that we had managed to salvage. It was nothing compared to what we had in the Old World but it was more than what the Badlands had started out with when we got here. I stayed out of her way as she took stock for the day ahead. Dominique poked his head in the door.
“You know, you could at least let someone know where you’re going wandering before you wander off?” He asked.
“I wasn’t aware I needed permission to go anywhere in my own barony, Dominique.” I replied. “I was hungry.”
“Kitchen is about half a mile away from where you ended up.” Dominique replied. “And your tetchy-ass company is looking for you.”
“He really shouldn’t be in a bad mood.” Dominique made a face. “Will you send him my way? I need to look at his stitches anyway.”
“Yeesh.” Dominique muttered, turning away. Couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes before Quinn’s frame filled the doorway. There was question on his face but he didn’t ask it.
“Thought you were getting breakfast.”
“Bloodwork was more important. Breakfast came afterwards. But while you’re here...” His eyes widened.
“No, absolutely not.” Quinn started to back away.
“Oh quit your fussin, and let me check your stitches.” I muttered. “Or more or less, let me show my handiwork off to my mentor.” I yanked him back through the doorway, lifting the side of his shirt to reveal the neat row of stitches across his ribs.
“Impressive.” Veil murmured. “You are getting better.”
“Hurts like the dickens.” Quinn muttered.
“Oh, I bet.” She replied. “But then again, your preference for opium isn’t doing you any favors. Ask the good baron for his medical grade stock of cannabis, and... I’ll have something made up for you to take an edge off the pain.” Quinn blinked.
“I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”
“Be nice to my Chief of Healers!” I scolded. Veil suppressed a small smile, turning back to read off the results of my blood work. A few other healers were beginning to flit around the infirmary as Quinn turned to me.
“Medical-grade cannabis?”
“We stock medical-grade opioids too.” I replied.
“So you do buy my stock.”
“Not usually for recreational use.” I shook my head. “But I will concede that there are some types of pain that cannabis just won’t touch. I’d rather not encourage opioid use as a catch all.” Veil handed me the results on a folded piece of paper before gathering up some supplies to send off with Quinn. I glanced at the numbers briefly, wrinkling my nose.
“That seems like a less than ideal face.”
“And here I thought Declan was the nosy one.” I replied, folding the paper and looking up at Quinn. “Routine blood work is necessary.” I paused for a moment. “And being a dragon lord, so to speak, does not help.”
“Well, this is for you.” Veil set down a basket. “I recommend seeing someone who is at least medically competent every three days so that infection doesn’t set in, and coming back to have your stitches removed...”
“Or I could just remove them myself.” Quinn muttered. I smacked the back of his hand.
“No!”
“Fussy.” Quinn grumbled.
“Or you can go see my father. I’m sure he’d be willing to assist you. Otherwise, here’s a few tea mixes that should take down the pain and whatever fevers could arise as complications. A salve to reduce scarring. A balm to reduce aches and pains, not to be applied on an open wound, and of course,” She glanced at me questioningly.
“A cannabinoid tincture.” I replied. “Since I get the feeling you’re the kind of person who doesn’t particularly care to wait.”
“What are the other options?”
“Cannabinoid oil. Takes longer to take effect.”
“This is a fairly standard kit we give to most Clippers.” Veil replied, tucking the small bottle in the basket. “Take under the tongue. Five to ten drops and no more than that.”
“Better be a miracle drug.” Quinn muttered, taking the basket. “Standard Clipper kit, hmph.” I rolled my eyes. There was no shortage of drama with this man. Sunny poked his head through the door.
“Baron?” I suppose that was their cue to leave and I followed them out to the porch where Sunny was already mounting his horse again, reins in hand for Quinn’s horse.
“Tch...” Quinn tsked, frowning.
“We were due back at our barony hours ago. I’m afraid we’ve overstayed our welcome, Baron Bren. But thank you for your hospitality.” Sunny started.
“Well I hate to see you go,” He narrowed his eyes at me, but I turned my attention to Quinn, “But I love to watch you leave.” I murmured. Sunny gagged, and Quinn smirked down at me.
“I bet you do.” I stepped in close to him for a moment, watching him turn and mount his horse, giving me one last look.
“Take care of yourself, Quinn.”
#Midwinter's Flame#Welcome to the Badlands Series#Baron Quinn X OMC#Sunny X OFC#Into the Badlands Fanfic#cw: nsfw/18+#cw: canon typical violence#cw: blood#tw: blood#cw: breathplay#tw: breathplay
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Yuletide
Welcome to the Badlands Series - Baron Quinn x Baron Bren, Sunny x Baroness Nix (Written by Nix)
Summary: Nix has earned a few different nicknames from the other Barons after freeing Lydia from Quinn. But when Gaius Chau needs to be freed from his own sister, her reputation is solidified in the Badlands. And it brings drama to the first party Bren and Nix host at their Barony.
Notes: Dress in the mood board is one I found on Etsy. AliceCorsets
Phrases/Words used: All are translated in some form in the story, but here is the list just in case.
Iksā gaomagon syt se tubis - You are done for the day
Nābēmagon - Attack
Sīmonagon - Rise
Dracarys - Dragon Fire
Kydȳbagon zirȳla - Measure Him
Issa iā raqiros - He is a friend
Gūrogon zirȳla - Take her
Gūrogon zirȳla naejot Merakses - Take her to Meraxes
“Gods, you think for a place that doesn’t encourage reading would have clearer paperwork,” I muttered to myself as I straightened out the files we had collected for Lydia.
It had been a month since we freed her from Quinn and I was making sure she would have everything she needed if she chose not to stay in our barony. Bren and I secretly hoped she would stay and even had a job ready for her if she did, but we wanted her to make the decision on her own with no pressure from us.
There was a gentle knock on the door and I lifted my eyes at the sight of Lydia poking her head into the office I shared with Bren. “Baroness Nix? May I come in?”
“Of course. And please, you know you don’t have to be formal with Bren and me. You were one of the few people good to us in Quinn’s barony.”
She took a seat across from my desk and I poured her a drink from the small bar I kept in there. “It looks like my kindness paid off. I never did properly thank you for saving me.”
I shook my head. “It was Bren’s idea. He and I both felt you deserved to get away from Quinn, but he really wanted to push for it. Honestly, had things not transpired the way it did, Bren would have been the one to finesse it out of Quinn.”
“May I ask what he sees in Quinn?”
“Fuck if I know,” I took my own glass and sat in my chair. “Does it bother you?”
“More so worries me. Bren’s a good man and he deserves someone worthy of his love.”
“You’re preaching to the choir on that one.”
Lydia was quiet for a moment. “I do plan to thank Bren, but I did want to thank you as well. I know it wasn’t easy. I know who you would rather have here across from you.”
I took a sip of my scotch. “Waldo was right; everyone but Quinn saw it.”
She shook her head. “Not everyone. Just the ones who knew you and Bren. Or at least, the ones who paid attention.”
“Lydia, I don’t regret saving you. Did I want to save Sunny as well? Of course,” I set my glass down. “But Sunny and I both know you were more in danger than him.”
She raised her eyebrows at this. “You’ve spoken to him?”
“We try to sneak off once a month, even if it’s just to speak for a few hours. This last time we couldn’t because of what happened so we sent messages via Waldo’s birds.”
“It’s a dangerous game, being with Quinn’s Regent.”
“Name me something that isn’t dangerous in the Badlands.”
She smirked at that. “Touché.”
“So why are you visiting me? I know you said it was to thank me, but I can see it’s more than that.”
Lydia set her glass down to look over my face. “You’re good at reading people.”
“That I am. I’m also well versed in deadly politics so this world isn’t completely foreign to me. Even if Bren does know the Badlands more.”
She nodded her head at this. “I’ve been contemplating what I should do now with my freedom. Not much I can do here in the Badlands given my status. But I wish to stay here if you and Bren will have me.”
I couldn’t help the smile on my face. “Of course, we would have you. We even have a job ready for you.”
“You do?” The shock was palpable on her face.
“How would you like to be our Regent?”
She blinked at me. “Nix, you know I’m not a clipper.”
“And? In case you hadn’t noticed, Bren and I aren’t sticking to traditions here. A regent is more than just a glorified clipper. They are an advisor to the Baron. Well, Baron and Baroness in this case.”
“Isn’t that Dominique’s job?”
“To an extent. He’s really glued to Bren’s side because of what happened with Jacobee so we need someone who would help both of us.”
She measured her words before responding again. “And what happens when you free Sunny?”
When not if. I liked that.
“That will be up to Sunny. We want to offer him the position of Captain of our Clippers, but he may opt for something less bloody. We have plenty of jobs we can find for him. But Bren and I both agreed that you should be our Regent.”
“I feel like there’s a catch.”
“No catch. More of…” I sighed. “More of a worry. The day may come where Quinn gets his head out of his ass and properly courts Bren. I know there is some bad blood there. If you take this position, we need to know if that is going to cause any issues.”
“May?”
I shrugged. “I think there’s a better chance of Meraxes becoming flesh and blood. But weirder things have happened.”
She smirked at this. “On that, I agree. I wish Bren would choose someone better, but I would never interfere. If anything, I suspect most would anticipate you doing that.”
“Only if he hurts anyone I care about. Then he better pray the Fort is fireproof.”
“If that’s the only condition, then I accept.”
“That will make Bren and I very happy. So if you like the room you’re in, go ahead and make it your own. Otherwise, there are one or two others we can show you. And then we can get you your own desk for this office.”
“Oh, you don’t need to worry about the desk. If you and Bren don’t mind me using yours.”
“I don’t, but I know my neurodivergent ass has a specific way of keeping track of things on it. So we’ll get you a desk to keep your stuff on it, but you can use mine or Bren’s when it feels more comfortable.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
I smiled and held out my glass so she could clink hers against it. “Welcome aboard, Regent.”
“Naejot!” The clipper force marched forward. “Kelītīs.”
The group came to a halt as Dominique strolled up.
“Good morning, Baroness. I see the lessons are going well.”
I nodded my head. “Nothing too complicated, but commands in another language could make all the difference if we ever have to go to war against another barony.”
Dominique cleared his throat. “That’s actually why I’m here.”
I sighed, “Seven Hells. Please don’t tell me Quinn is on his way. Or worse yet, Broadmore because we still refuse to re-open the mines.”
“This actually concerns Gaius Chau, Baroness.”
My eyebrows furrowed at this. Ever since we got settled in our new barony, I had been trying to learn as much about the other barons as I could from Dominique, Lydia, and Bren. This is not how I expected this conversation to go.
I turned towards the Clipper force. “Iksā gaomagon syt se tubis.”
They bowed their heads and left the courtyard. Looking at Dominique, I motioned my head towards the house.
“What did-”
“I told them they were done for the day. As I said, this will be very effective and efficient and when the day comes we get someone to take charge of the Clipper force, I will teach them as well.”
Dominique followed me through the mansion until we reached the office where Bren and Lydia were already at work. Dominique closed the door behind us as I went over to my desk.
“Alright, what’s going on that has Dominique thinking Gaius and war are synonymous?”
Bren sighed, “ok, not what we meant when we said we needed to talk to Nix.”
Dominique rolled his eyes. “In my defense, she was on the mindset of preparing for war when I brought Gaius up.”
“Can we please focus?” I asked as I sat at my desk.
Dominique moved to the side as Lydia came over to my desk. “We want to help free Gaius. Years ago he was imprisoned for free cogs in his sister’s barony.”
“Why didn’t she just kill him? From what I understand, that would seem very on-brand for her.”
Bren spoke up from his desk. “Word has it she made a promise to their mother.”
“Fabulous. So once I do free him, what then?”
“We would like you to take him to Minerva. They knew each other as children and she can provide him a safe haven.”
I sighed and looked up at the map of the Badlands we had tacked to the wall. “I’m assuming me flying in with Meraxes and burning the Fox territory to the ground is out of the question.”
“Nix,” Bren’s tone had worry in it.
“Fine. I’ll just use Meraxes to visit Rojas.”
Lydia looked over at me in confusion. “Why Rojas?”
“If I’m invading the Fox territory, there’s only a handful of ways to do so: leave the Badlands and scale the wall by her barony, go through Rojas’ barony, or go through Hassan’s territory. Since the last one is too scared shitless to be an ally to us because of who he’s in between, Rojas is the best route.”
“Couldn’t you pretend to be visiting Chau on a mission to become allies?”
I looked over at Dominique. “If it were anyone else, yes. But word has no doubt spread about how our cogs aren’t cogs anymore. I highly doubt she would trust me coming there to become allies.”
“Not to mention the nicknames you have earned,” Lydia sighed.
I raised an eyebrow. “Nicknames?”
“Ever since you secured my freedom and it’s been made known that not only are our cogs not considered cogs anymore but that you both pay your cogs and give refugees food and shelter, names have begun to circulate. Mainly about you, Nix.”
“Such as?”
“Homewrecker - for the marriage I once had, Cog Ally, Dragon Lady, the Cog’s Wife, among other - less clever ones.”
“No doubt starting with the letter ‘c’. And Bren?”
“The Gelded Baron.” I didn’t think it was possible for my eyebrow to go any higher. Even Bren looked up at this. “They don’t believe this is an equal partnership and that you really run the barony, Nix.”
“Fucking gender stereotypical roles. Because I’m the brash one of course that must mean I just roll over Bren on everything. Gods.”
“And then there’s Rojas’ name for you, though it doesn’t seem overly clever.”
“Rojas has a name for me?”
“Breaker of Chains.”
I smiled at that. “Oh, I think Rojas and I are going to be best friends.”
I landed Meraxes outside the wall that surrounded Rojas’ mansion, the man in question at the gates to greet me himself. Which surprised me. And what surprised me, even more, was him having a smile on his face.
“Baroness Nix! To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I was hoping we could speak privately about barony matters if that is alright with you?”
“Of course. Will you be joining us for dinner?”
“If you’re offering. You know I can’t say no to a good meal.”
He laughed as he lead his way into his home and to his office. But once the door was shut, his face became more serious. “If the Dragon Lady is visiting - unannounced - I can’t imagine what is in store for me or my barony.”
“Well, in all fairness to me phones don’t exist anymore so it’s not like I could shoot you a text.”
“A what?” He took a seat behind his desk.
“It’s a message that doesn’t need a person to deliver it. Don’t worry, I’m not here to free your cogs or anything like that. I just need to ask permission.”
He raised his eyebrows at this. “The Dragon Lady needs to ask my permission?”
“Since when am I the Dragon Lady to you, Rojas?”
“Forgive me, Baroness. I didn’t realize the nickname was offensive.”
I could tell he was skirting around the issue and that’s when I remembered: not everyone in the Badlands could read. So it hadn’t dawned on me that A Song of Ice and Fire would still exist in this world and that some people may have read it until Lydia told me of Rojas’ nickname for me.
And because it’s about breaking the wheel of oppression, why some barons wouldn’t make the saga known in their barony.
“Oh, the name doesn’t bother me. But I think it’s time I have a more official name.”
“Such as?”
“Phoenix Desertborn, First of Her Name, Baroness of Nost Brobadui, Breaker of Chains,” he sat up straighter at this, “and Mother of Dragons.”
Now Rojas broke out into a genuine smile. “So the rumors are true, you know of the saga.”
“I do. So, Lord Tyrell, will you listen to me now?”
He laughed at the nickname I just gave him. “I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that I would be named after the Reach. Seems apropos. How can I help you, Nix?”
“I need save passage for my Clippers and myself. We’re heading to Chau’s.”
“I have a feeling that the less I know the better, correct?”
“Correct. Let’s just say, I’m really going to earn my Breaker of Chains name.”
“Seven Save You if it goes awry.”
I smirked. “Thanks.”
The plan was simple: march quietly through Rojas’ territory to the border of the Fox Barony. Then use the old sewer system of the former civilization to sneak into her mansion. The Clippers would make a big show about leaving, which would allow me to sneak Gaius to the outer walls of the Badlands. Where Meraxes would be waiting. My team knew not to use an ounce of English unless it was absolutely necessary.
Simple enough.
Except this was Juliet Chau and nothing could ever be simple with this woman. The sewers easily lead us to her dungeon, but we found them empty.
“Fuck,” I growled before turning to the Clippers. “Spread out and find him! Infiltrate the guards if you have to.”
I broke off from the pack and began to make my way through the mansion, being very careful not to alert the cogs of my presence. While they wouldn’t know me personally, rumor had it cogs knew to look for a three-headed dragon symbol for freedom. And as much as I wanted to free Chau’s cogs, I had to stay focused on the mission.
But soon a commotion caught my attention and sneaking over to a window, I could see that Chau had dragged her brother outside and was threatening people in front of him. Looking at the guards stationed above, I saw some of my force had inserted themselves as I had asked. Guess it was now or never.
I very quietly opened the window just as I heard Juliet threaten her brother. “This is your final warning, Gaius. You will help me or I will kill them.”
Not one for watching an opportunity fly by, I gave the order to attack. “Nābēmagon!”
My Clippers instantly turned on Chau’s guard and the focus switched to the growing chaos. I used that moment to flip out of the window and onto the large porch where Gaius was being held. I managed to stick the landing, but my body told me that I was getting too old for those superhero moves. Gods, next time I’m just using Meraxes.
Juliet honed in on the three-headed dragon on my breastplate and sneered. “If it isn’t the Cog’s Wife herself. Oh yes, I know of the rumors. This is an act of war!”
“It’s only an act of war if you can prove who I am,” I mocked from my helmet.
“Guess I’ll have to remove your mask. With your head still attached!”
“If you can take it, it’s yours.”
Juliet pulled out a sword. “With pleasure.”
I pulled out Dark Sister and we began to dance, doing what I could to pull her away from Gaius. Dominique had been one to come with me and I saw the moment he freed Gaius and pulled him away from the fight. Now to deal with Juliet.
“Didn’t anyone teach you how to fight before letting you loose on another baron?” Juliet sneered at me.
“Is it because I keep using the flat part of my sword? Oh, my sweet summer child, that’s to give you a fighting chance.”
She snarled at me and brought down her sword on my left arm, cutting the fabric. While the suit was made of kevlar to protect me from fire, it had never been tested in a sword fight.
“That is my favorite jacket!” My mock appalled attitude just seemed to fuel her anger.
Juliet went for my neck and this time her sword met the blade of mine. Dark Sister was made of Valyrian steel which was not only five times lighter than regular steel, but far stronger. It sliced through her sword with little effort. She stopped mid-swing at the sound of steel plinking against the stone porch.
The shock and horror on her face was comical and almost caused me to drop to my knees in laughter. But instead, I pulled a fist back and knocked her out.
My body was still protesting a month later as I tried to get ready for the Yuletide party we were hosting that night. It was hard for me to remember at times that I was almost forty. That I wasn’t built for this type of life. But I couldn’t say no to helping people get free. To break their chains, in a manner of speaking.
I was soaking in a tub of water that temperature rivaled lava filled with lavender and salt, trying to get my joints and muscles to relax. Looking at my left shoulder, I could see the cut from Juliet’s sword was healing nicely. It would end up as a pale line like the one on my cheek.
Bren had freaked out when I had returned home, seeing the rip in my flight jacket. I had refused to let him see the cut - much to his annoyance - me being more pissed off at losing a flight jacket. Granted, when I got Meraxes I gained everything inside of her - including a spare suit - but it still irked me.
I climbed out of the tub and lit a small joint I had rolled a few days past. We were slowly becoming the barony of cannabis thanks to a good size greenhouse we had found and in time, we would replace the Badlands need for opium. We wouldn’t need to reopen the mines to keep the barony afloat. The smoke entered my lungs and I knew in just a few short minutes, my body would ache less.
As I dressed in a floor-length, lace-covered black dress, Sarah knocked on the door. She helped me with the finishing touches of silver, metal plates that were designed to look like lace with red gems dotted throughout. Two semi-circles were attached to my hips, a triangle plate was attached to my chest that covered my heart and my stomach, and one piece was draped over my left shoulder. They would act as makeshift armor but look like a purposeful part of the dress. With Juliet Chau being one of the many barons invited, I couldn’t be too careful.
I saw Bren in the foyer, pacing nervously. Parties like this were not his thing, which confused people after they realized he opened Euphorbia not me. That I had opted for the more calm and quiet speakeasy, Moria. But he had the club scene as a means to drown out the noise. And that’s all this party would be: noise.
“Please don’t wear a path into the floor.”
Bren looked over and frowned at me. “How can you be so calm right now? I know you hate people and have anxiety like me.”
I reached over and smoothed down the lapels of his brilliant blue suit, the gold stitching catching the light beautifully. “True, but my mom could host a party like no other. It’s the only positive thing I inherited from her. And hosting a party puts you in an advantage over your enemies.”
“Just as long as no one’s expecting me to make a speech or anything.”
“That’s why you have me. I’ll take care of all of it. Just stand here and try to relax. It’s almost time.” I looked up at Lydia. “Ready to make your debut, Regent?”
She took a deep breath, looking nervous in her new red and black dress. She had insisted on wearing colors from our new banners. But the red was more blood red than Quinn’s maroon red. “I hope so.”
“Dominique and I will be right beside you.”
Two members of our house staff opened the double doors leading outside and the four of us walked out, Bren a step behind me. Our guests were dismounting their rides and walking up to the front of the house as best they could through the newly fallen snow. To the left loomed a tall mound of snow in between the wall and the house. I took a look at all who had arrived: Minerva with Tilda and Gaius, Juliet Chau, her regent, and a couple of Clippers, Baron Broadmore, Rojas, and Hassan all brought wives, their Regents, and a few Clippers. And Quinn had done what I had hoped. He brought Sunny. But he also had Declan with him instead of Waldo. It was no surprise that the Barons would leave someone behind to guard their baronies, but why leave Waldo and not Declan?
“Thank you, all, for joining us this winter evening for our Yuletide party introducing our barony. Baron Bren and I welcome you to our home. I am Baroness Phoenix, this is Baron Bren’s advisor, Dominique, and this is our Regent, Lydia.” My voice cut through the crisp winter air. “Allow me to in-”
Broadmore gruffed, interrupting me. “Why is it you speak to us? You are not the baron! And a woman Regent?!”
I raised an eyebrow at this and caught the look of Sunny trying to keep his face neutral and Minerva smothering a laugh. “Let me explain something and I’ll try to keep this as monosyllabic as possible for your caveman-like intellect. Here, Baron Bren and I are equal in running the barony. Baroness is not some empty title given to a wife or a sister in this case. I have just as much power as Bren. We are NOT the barony of mining. We are Nost Bronadui, also known as House Enduring. We are the barony of cannabis.”
At that, two banners unfurled on either side of the house behind me to reveal our black banners with red three-headed dragons.
“We are the dragon lords. And our words are Fire and Blood.”
Before Broadmore could throw a fit over a woman insulting him, Juliet chimed in.
“That is the banner of the Cog’s Wife! You, who go around freeing our cogs! Sewing discourse in the Badlands. I should kill you where you stand.”
I saw Sunny tense at this, but I gave a small smile and he did his best to relax.
“Here, in our barony, they are not cogs. They are citizens of our territory. They are workers. They are people. And they will be treated with respect. As for killing me…well, if you can get to me you are welcome to try. Sīmonagon!”
The giant mound of snow began to shift and rise, causing some of the wives to gasp and the Clippers to pull out their weapons. Snow fell in a chaotic mess as Meraxes stood to her full height, her head coming around from being wrapped around her body. On and on her neck stretched until she looked down at the crowd.
“I will say this only once more,” I began after the screaming had quieted down. “We are the dragon lords. And I will protect what is mine with Fire and Blood. Anyone caught abusing our staff or our citizens will answer to Meraxes. Dracarys.”
Meraxes lifted her head into the air and lit up the dark night with her thirty-foot flame.
“One final thing, because I can see that tiny brain of yours trying to actually think, Broadmore. Meraxes only obeys me. Not even Bren can issue her commands. It’s part of how she was designed. She was also designed not to take any riders if I’m not there. So please, don’t make my staff clean up red snow.”
Broadmore looked at me with a mix of anger and horror.
I just smirked. “Welcome to House Enduring. Enjoy the party!”
Inside, the band was playing the version of Wicked Games that Ramin Djawadi had composed for Westworld. It gave the party the exact vibe it needed as guests began to fill the large room Bren and I had converted into a temporary ballroom. After my threats to Chau and Broadmore, I had stepped inside to have Sarah help place Dark Sister in the sheath I had attached to the inside of my dress. Meraxes could never fit inside the mansion and so I needed to make sure I always had a weapon on me.
Besides the blades I also had strapped to my thighs.
The barons loosened up a little when the liquor began to flow, simple cocktails and wine and straight liquor. Almost anything they could want. We had almost considered having cannabis smoke in the air, but we were big on that being a consent thing. So it was available but the people would need to go to the designated rooms.
Staff moved about with trays of food and drink, many of the items I had prepared myself. I carefully watched how the other barons treated our staff, ready to strike like a snake. But so far everyone was behaving.
As I walked, I tried my best to mingle with the other barons to see if anyone outside of Minerva would be an ally. Technically, Rojas was but he hadn’t made it vocal yet. And speaking of the devil, he was chatting with Chau and Broadmore. Great.
“Good evening,” I plastered on a convincing smile. “Enjoying the party?”
Broadmore gruffed. “Hardly. You jeopardize your alliance with my barony by not opening the mines. And you don’t even have the decency to offer opium to your guests.”
“Now why in the world would we have a competitor’s product at our party? Sounds counterproductive. In those rooms down the hall to your right, you will find different forms of cannabis for consumption. Edibles I made myself, joints and pipes for smoking, hookah machines altered for the use of cannabis, and even incense pots. You can have your fix without any of the negative aftermaths that come with opium.”
Broadmore grumped while Chau raised an eyebrow. “Cannabis? Aren’t they finicky plants?”
“They can be. But lucky for us, Bren has a green thumb. And we have constructed plenty of greenhouses to protect them.”
“Are you afraid an enemy could come and burn them down?”
“If they can actually sneak past my dragon, light the houses on fire, and make it back out with all their limbs attached…well, they earned that victory.”
Rojas hid his smirk behind his wine glass as Chau glared at me. “And what if someone were to take back their stolen cogs?”
“Stolen?!” I raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know people could be stolen. Have we circled back to slavery? If so, ‘stolen’ cogs will be the least of your problems, Juliet.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sunny flash me a look before he snuck down one of the side halls. But Juliet was demanding my attention again.
“Cogs are important to the fabric of the Badlands.”
“People, not cogs. They deserved to be paid for their time.”
“Paid?! I know that you and your brother-”
This farce had gone on long enough. I knew her and Broadmore would never be our allies so why keep pretending? “Oh Juliet, I’m really sorry but I can’t listen to the rest of your rant. I have a condition.”
“Oh?” I saw a sparkle in her eye as she believed she was on the edge of learning some type of weakness of mine. “What is it?”
“It’s called I don’t care,” and with a twirl of my hand, I flipped her off as I walked away. She shouted after me, her voice barely above Rojas’ laughter as I went down a different hallway.
Staff smiled at me as I passed them, no doubt knowing why I was leaving the party. But because Bren and I didn’t run our barony in fear, I knew none of them would say anything. Dominique and Sarah were at the back door in the kitchen when I came in and I could see Dominique try to hide his judgment.
I rolled my eyes. “Bren has Quinn occupied right now and Declan is too scared of Meraxes to leave the house alone. I won’t be gone long.”
“Baroness-”
But Sarah cut him off. “I will tell anyone that asks that you went to check on Meraxes.”
I could help but smile at her. She was like Bren in having a soft spot for romance. “Thank you, Sarah. And Dominique, if you’re so worried you could help keep an eye out in there.”
He frowned but nodded his head before leaving the room. I stepped out into the cold, winter night with the moonlight and a few house lights guiding my path. My boots softly crunched over the snow as I walked further and further from the house. Meraxes raised her head as I stepped up to her and I placed my hand on her cold nose.
“Be careful. Your hand may freeze to her.”
I couldn’t help my smile as I turned to face Sunny. “Good thing she has a protective layer over her metal body.”
“What is she?”
“Let me get you two introduced first and then I will explain. I don’t want her to think you are a threat.”
“Wait, what?”
I took Sunny’s hand and pulled him close. “It’s ok. Meraxes, kydȳbagon zirȳla. Issa iā raqiros”
Her eyes glowed red as she focused on Sunny. He stood frozen as she kept her gaze on him before her eyes dimmed and she moved her head closer.
“It’s ok, she’s done. You can touch her now.”
“What?” Sunny looked at me like I was crazy.
“I told her you were a friend and had her measure your body. Height, build, temperature, everything. She now knows you and you’re safe with her. Touch her.”
He wasn’t convinced so I went first, placing my hand back on her nose. Sunny watched nervously before slowly reaching his hand out, trying to keep it steady. But once his hand made contact, Sunny’s face broke out into a smile.
“She’s- she’s a machine. She really is.”
“Yeah, she is. I created her a long time ago.”
Sunny did a double-take. “You built her?!”
“Oh, gods no. I’m smart, but this is lightyears beyond what I can do. But like my sword, she can be explained. Even if it seems far-fetched.”
We talked into the cold night air until it was time to sneak back into the mansion. I let Sunny go first before I followed, going back through the kitchen. Where I came across a dramatic scene unfolding.
Sarah and Dominique were standing off to one side as Bren, Quinn, and Declan were arguing in the middle of the room. It was hard to pick up the conversation at first, but slowly I was able to differentiate the words being yelled.
“Why are you asking me where Sunny is?!” Bren threw his hands up. “I totally wasn’t in here sneaking dessert or anything.”
Declan made a face. “That’s worse.”
Bren smacked Declan on the back of the head. “Not everything is about sex, you know!”
Quinn was red in the face with anger. “Where is-”
“Why the fuck are you yelling in my kitchen, Baron Quinn?” My voice carried easily over the commotion thanks to the years of choir and theater I did back in our old world.
Sunny poked his head in from a different doorway. “I believe I heard you asking for me, Baron?”
Declan’s jaw dropped. “How did he sneak around so quickly?!”
Bren threw up his hands. “He wasn’t with me, you morons!”
“But you were sneaking around!”
“Because parties aren’t my thing. We did this because it was expected of us. I know as Baron I have social obligations and that’s it. I legitimately went to go get a snack. Why am I being harassed about it in my own house?”
I rolled my eyes. “Because the Armadillo and his crony don’t have two brain cells to rub together.”
Bren smirked and I knew he had recovered enough to go in for the kill. “Besides, if I wanted that kind of dessert, I wouldn’t be going to Sunny.”
I made a face as Declan gagged.
“You have your regent, leave my brother alone. And stop snooping around my grounds or I’ll sick my dragon on you.”
Quinn gruffed in my direction. “I wanted Sunny to put Chau in her place.”
I raised an eyebrow at this. “What did that bitch do now?”
Silence followed my question before Bren quietly answered. “She may have drawn blood.”
My face went eerily calm. “Where. Is. She?”
Sunny instantly recognized that look. “Nix, remember. You’re a baroness now.”
“And this bitch broke Guest Rights in my home.” I stomped out of the kitchen, barely catching Bren trying to call after me.
I made a detour down a different hall to let one of our Clippers standing watch alert the others. They needed to make sure Juliet and her entourage didn’t leave without me making an example out of her. But I may have taken too long because as I came back into the party, she had Bren trapped between her and Broadmore. Sunny was trying to keep Quinn from getting in between as Chau slowly approached Bren.
“Listen here, runt. We will not stand aside as you and your sister continue to take our cogs. We’ve worked too hard to make the Badlands what they are.”
I could see the panic in Bren’s eyes as he desperately tried not to shift uncontrollably, and terrify our staff in the process. Juliet smirked at him.
“What? Not willing to defend yourself? I guess those rumors we heard from the Armadillo are false. There’s only one dragon lord. Can’t even defend yourself. Oh, Bren, why do you even try to run a barony? We both know you’re not one for confrontations in public. Especially violent ones. It’s not your style.”
Bren finally looked over Juliet’s shoulder to see me standing there, murder in my eyes. “You’re right. It’s not. It’s hers.”
Chau slowly turned around to see me pull Dark Sister from the sheath on my back.
“You broke my rules, Juliet. Clippers, gūrogon zirȳla!”
Dominique pulled Bren aside as two clippers each grabbed Chau’s arm.
“Gūrogon zirȳla naejot Merakses.”
“Wh- what did you tell them?!”
Dominique looked at her coldly. “You’re going to see why my Baroness is a Dragon Lady.”
The Clippers dragged her as she kicked and screamed. Her regent tried to interfere, but Quinn quickly de-armed them and growled. The party instantly moved outside as I followed closely behind my men as they dragged Juliet through the snow and finally dumped her at Meraxes’ feet.
Juliet climbed to her knees as I walked around her, Dark Sister pointed at her throat. I then used the tip to tilt her chin up so she would look at me with Meraxes’ head looming behind me.
“You seemed to be under the impression that Bren and I are pushovers, just because we weren’t born here in the Badlands. That we were given this barony. But you forget. You all forget! Bren took this barony from the Armadillo and I will give my last breath to defend it. This land will never stop being a safe haven from baronies who treat their people like trash. Meraxes will always stand guard. This is Nost Bronadui. Run by Baron Bren, the Enduring One, and Baroness Phoenix, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons.”
Meraxes growled lowly.
“And if you ever come to our lands again to threaten those I have sworn to protect, I will burn you alive. Your words will disappear. Your house will disappear. Your name will disappear. All memory of you will disappear.”
Meraxes roared causing Juliet to freak out.
“We don’t need your alliance. Or yours, Broadmore.” My eyes met his. “You’re weapons are not a necessity. We are forging our own as Meraxes watches our lands. Nothing you produce will take her down and nothing you do will stop me from protecting everyone under my care. You want to give me a nickname? Call me the Firebreather. Because that’s exactly what will happen the next time I catch you two on our lands.”
The silence was deafening before Rojas broke it, much to my surprise.
“I will make it known now, in front of everyone, that you will always find an ally in my barony, Baron Bren and Baroness Nix. House Tyrell will support House Targaryen.”
I smiled at his reference as Minerva spoke next.
“As will my Barony. Hell, I’ll even offer a few suitor choices to solidify the alliance since both of you are still single.”
I snorted as Bren blushed.
Rojas cleared his throat. “As will I. There may be a person or two in my barony taken with Baron Bren, if that is alright.”
Bren was now bright red and my smile grew.
“We can discuss possible courtship offers at a later time. For now, House Enduring accepts your offer for alliance and give ours in return.”
Quinn cleared his throat and everyone fell silent.
“I, also, offer my alliance to Baron Bren.”
None of us missed the omission of me in that statement, but for someone like Quinn that wasn’t surprising. A Baroness would never be his equal, despite how it was in our barony.
Hassan had remained quiet during this time and I hadn’t expected much. His barony was right in between Broadmore’s and Chau’s. He lacked both the Clipper force and dragon to make a bold statement. So I let him be and turned my attention back to Juliet.
“Run.”
“What?”
“Run, little rabbit. For the dragon is hungry and you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.”
Meraxes’ eyes glowed bright red and the color drained from Chau’s face. She scrambled to her feet and raced for the gate, her regent and small Clipper force at her feet. I turned towards Broadmore, who began to usher his wives in the same direction.
I lowered my sword as Bren came up.
“Well, you certainly know how to end a party.”
I smirked at him. “Hey, it took the focus off you.”
He then frowned. “Suitors?”
“Let’s discuss that later. Right now, we should probably see the rest of our guests off. It’s been a long night.”
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Into the Badlands
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#yuletide#welcome to the badlands series#into the badlands#sunny x original female character#sunny x ofc#baron quinn#sunny#itbsunny#itbquinn#quinn x original male character#baron quinn x omc#original female character#original male character#canon typical violence#canon divergence#mention of drug use#cw: mention of drugs#cw: mentions of drug use#tw: drug use#tw: drugs
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So Long As I Take Breath
Summary: Bren and Nix have claimed the Barony of Mining and made it into their own. This, however, does not ease the tensions between Quinn and them, and when Quinn shows up in their territory to see how far they’ve come, tensions boil over into violence. And Bren finds once again that his heart cannot ignore Quinn, no matter how much he tries...
A/N: Yes, I’ve made Quinn slightly OOC for the sake of my sanity.
Pairing(s): Baron Quinn X Bren, Sunny X Nix
POV: 1st and 3rd Person
Co-creator: @my-fandom-musings
WARNINGS: Angst, Canon-typical Violence, Mention of Death, PTSD
Divider Credit: firefly-graphics
Quinn’s fuse was short. The fact that the Widow was incessantly in his barony made it so much worse. They were rivals; they were not friends. And yet here she was again and again. If Lydia didn’t seem to enjoy her company so much, Quinn would have already exploded.
“So, Sunny, how are you doing?” Minerva asked, a cheeky expression on her face. Quinn found this conversation was utterly meaningless.
“Baroness?”
“Missing out on your duties of watching out for...”
“WHAT DOES MY REGENT’S DUTIES CONCERN YOU?!” Minerva looked to Quinn blankly. He was on edge... more than usual.
“Who pissed in your coffee this morning? I’ve been by the new barony of mining, if you could call it that. They have interesting ideas. You should,” Quinn’s wrath was no doubt about to be directed at her; that glare could kill, “Take a note out of their book perhaps.”
Sunny raised an eyebrow slightly. It wasn’t a bad idea, going to see Nix and Bren and noting the progress that they’d made, even though his intentions might have been elsewhere for that trip.
“She has a point, Baron.”
“Stop that!” Quinn growled. “We do not need to...”
“Aww, you miss your timeline girlfriend...” Minerva crooned.
“She’s not--” Sunny started.
“You should be allowed to be happy.”
“But it’s not--” Sunny couldn’t get a word in edgewise before Quinn snapped again.
“STOP THAT!”
“Jesus, what did he do, leave you hanging?” Minerva asked. That certainly shut Quinn up faster than anything Sunny had ever seen. Did Bren really do that to Quinn? Hells, Sunny had seen Quinn clip someone for that before, and yet... Bren had walked out of the barony. “You... he... you really must have pissed him off.”
“Is there a reason you’re here bothering me?!” Quinn snarled through gritted teeth. Minerva chuckled as Lydia finally made her way into the room.
“Oh don’t mind him. He’s been like that since Bren and Nix left. Don’t I wish he would mope around like Sunny instead.”
“I’m not moping.” Sunny murmured, giving Lydia a look. She shrugged, glancing at Quinn. His mind was set; he was irritated, and he was not paying attention to a word that involved Sunny.
“Seriously.” Minerva took a pastry off the dining room table. “Go by their barony. You’ll find him in the fields.”
“I will not concede to a whelp who doesn’t know a goddamn thing about--”
“Didn’t you challenge him to pick up this mantle? Why would it surprise you that he rose to meet that challenge? And why are you so bent out of shape about it if all he does is annoy you?” She made her way over to the couch where Lydia was sitting, smirking into her glass of wine. Quinn’s eyes followed her all the way across the room. Oh, what Sunny would have given to be off duty and drowning in a bottle of whiskey right now.
“And what of Nix? Is she mingling with the commoners as well?” Quinn asked. Strange, Sunny thought, that Quinn would ask after her as much as those two hated each other.
“She is the Baroness. She has taken to teaching people in their barony different methods of cooking and using every last ingredient, even scraps. There is very little waste in the barony. It’s impressive, honestly.” Minerva replied, taking a bite of the pastry. “Give my compliments to your kitchen staff, will you, Baron?”
“She’s the... Baroness?” Sunny asked, dumbfounded.
“Ha! I told you they were--”
“Stop being an idiot. It’s so platonic it almost looks like an arranged marriage.” Minerva muttered.
“He keeps saying it to deny his own-” Lydia started.
“ENOUGH!”
“Listen everyone in the Fort that night heard what you said to him. So stop fussing about it if you’re not going to do anything about it.”
“You’ve got some nerve, woman.”
“No shit, Quinn; I married you. I know you.” Lydia remarked.
“In that, I agree. She would have to have nerves to be with you.” Minerva replied. Quinn just huffed, standing up from the dinner table and stalking out of the room.
“Sunny, be prepared to leave at dawn.” Lydia started.
“But-”
“Trust me. You and I both know he hates being wrong.” Well, there was truth to that, Sunny thought.
I took a morning cup of coffee out with me to enjoy a sunrise out in the fields. I wasn’t particularly dressed for the inevitable long day of hard work that was stretched out in front of me, just, for a moment, enjoying the cool dirt beneath my feet and the morning dew in the grass. Few Cogs had begun to stir, tending to their families and their homes before filtering through the mansion grounds. I wouldn’t lie; sunrises weren’t particularly my thing. Being up this early was a necessity for the barony and nothing more.
Sunlight stretched over the fields and their neat rows of planted crop. A Cog walked among them here and there, but they knew I did not require their hands before I was willing to give my own. I took in a deep breath, letting it go slowly... and then my eyes were drawn to riders on horseback, approaching from the North. Had they been a threat, one of the Clippers would have warned me by now. Instead I was treated to Baron Quinn and his regent on horseback. Had Sunny not taken notice of me sitting at the crop’s edge, I’m certain that they would have mistaken me for a Cog and kept on riding.
“Well this is a surprise.” I murmured quietly, eyeing Sunny on the back of his horse.
“Baron.”
“Oh please, Sunny. It’s Bren, you know me.” He didn’t outwardly give much away but he did acknowledge it with a brief nod. “Baron Quinn.”
Quinn scowled, gritting his teeth. “Baron.” I saw that pleasantries were... forced. Nix chose that moment to find me just outside the gates.
“Hey Bren- oh lord. Hello, Sunny.”
“Baroness.”
“Oh, that was hella weird. Please don’t do that again.” She murmured, shaking her head. Then her eyes alighted on Quinn and she raised an eyebrow. “Baron Quinn.” He nearly choked at her using his proper title. All things considered, I half expected them to be at each other’s throats by now.
I made my way to my feet, wishing that something a little stronger could be in my coffee cup. “Is something wrong?”
“The Widow suggested we stop in.” Sunny replied.
“That sounds like Minerva. Could I interest you in breakfast? Coffee?”
“Perhaps something a little stronger?” Sunny asked.
“You and me both.” I replied. “Whiskey it is. Two?” I asked, glancing in Quinn’s direction but he refused to acknowledge me. Ah, so we were going to play that game. “Okay, one then. Come.” I led them through the gates, taking a moment more behind them to see that their horses were tended to, before leading them into the house.
Inside, Nix had already laid breakfast across a dining table in the living area, and I ventured to pour Sunny a glass of whiskey as they took a seat.
“As much as I don’t drink this early, pour me a glass. I got a feeling if the Armadillo is visiting, I’m going to need it.” I doubt she saw the smile that slightly edged to my face. I poured an extra glass, handing one to Nix and one to Sunny. Quinn finally broke his silence.
“You know, anybody could have just walked up in here. You--”
“And most we would welcome.” I cut him off gently. “Offer them a warm meal and shelter for the day or night.”
“You’re going to get yourself killed.” Quinn frowned. I shrugged slightly.
“We found a few loyal Clippers who weren’t slaughtered who pledged their allegiance to us. If you didn’t see them on your way in, good. That means they’re doing their job.”
“There’s no regent yet, but we’re not strictly sticking to traditions, all things considered. Besides, woe is the dog that bites the hand that feeds them. Because they may get stabbed in return.” Nix murmured, taking a sip of her whiskey. Sunny smirked, hiding it in his glass. “This barony is doing quite well. We even got the school up and running. Granted, it wasn’t easy finding someone who could read and not fear us ripping fingers off for it.” That much was true. The Cogs had fled when Jacobee was taken, and into Minerva’s territory they had gone. It had taken some coaxing to show them that we weren’t going to be like the baron before us.
“School?!” Quinn looked like he was seething.
“Yeah, how else do you prevent an uprising? Stupid people run with stupid knowledge and that spread like wildfire. We would know. We saw it first hand.”
“You sound like Jade.” Quinn muttered. I winced. That was not a compliment.
“Jade had good points. She just made an unfortunate decision of where to make her bed. In another timeline, perhaps we would have been friends.”
“And what will you do when one of these upstarts betrays you?” Quinn asked.
“Well, I have to have some measure of faith in my people, but I don’t think you understand that there isn’t anything to betray. There are no secrets to be learned, to be hidden away. What good would it serve us to hide the truth from our people?”
“But you are Baron!”
“It’s just a title, Quinn.” I replied.
“The power that comes with that title is hollow if you don’t use it properly. We’re not hiding anything from the people. In fact, we’re using the knowledge of our old world to improve theirs. Easier access to health care. Better child care. Cogs that want to work. Clippers,” Nix sighed heavily, “We still have them but only because of the other baronies. They protect our people from the nomads that don’t want to change for the better. But they are never used as a threat to our people.”
Sunny looked down into his whiskey. “Like the stories of the barons who founded the Badlands.” I took a sip of my coffee. My knowledge of that was entirely limited, but yes, like the barons who founded the Badlands.
“I believe I somewhat know what you are referencing, yes.” I murmured.
“Fine, you’ve survived! Now build alliances when you have nothing to offer!” Quinn snapped.
“We already have. We’re allied with Baroness Minerva and Baron Rojas.” Quinn’s jaw actually dropped. “As for the mining operations, getting them back up and running is a complicated decision, to say the least of it. It’s a dangerous profession and I feel like it wastes lives needlessly.”
“The gold will keep this barony running, not some futile dream!” Quinn snarled. “You’re naive!”
“You have no idea what these people suffered doing that! Go spit your vitriol somewhere else. I will not needlessly send these people to their death!” I snapped back.
“Needlessly killing people for something humans gave value to for literally no reason other than it being shiny is so stupid. It proves you’re a functioning baron but not a good one. We have things to provide that are far more valuable and trade goods all the time.” Nix retorted, just as angry about it as I was. And that was the truth; right now we relied on trade. Time would give us something to become the barony of. Until then I would trade my knowledge and the labor of my own two hands to keep the barony running.
“This barony can and will flourish without killing its people, if I have to get out there and do it with my own two hands!” I snapped, making to stand, anger making my body ready to fight.
“According to the Widow, you are.” Sunny murmured.
“I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t. I mean, I’ve got my limits but I’ll still do what I can.”
“You could be sitting in the lap of luxury--” Quinn started.
“No.” I started softly, taking in a deep breath. “No. What did you think would happen? That I would content myself to live under your hand? You challenged my ideals; I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I chose you over them, no matter how tempting it may have been.”
“Luxury was never something we had in our old life. And for some, getting it for the first time could be intoxicating. But I had an aunt and uncle who had that level,” Nix gave Sunny a glance; if I had to guess, they had spoken on the matter before, “The same Uncle. And in the country they were from, their corrupt power got them many things. But when I visited their homes,” Quinn’s eyes widened, “Yes, homes as in plural - it always felt cold. I choose hope and love, even as cynical as I am. And maybe one day, all this will give me that.”
“Most likely your death.” Quinn muttered.
“Perhaps. But like Bren and I said, this is the first time someone has wanted us dead.”
“I know this society is all you’ve ever known, Quinn, but it doesn’t have to be that way.” I started.
“You don’t know a damn thing--”
“I know your father was killed because of this system of cruelty that runs the Badlands.”
“Don’t you dare--” Quinn growled.
“If you want to hurt people because other people have hurt you, I get it.” My voice dropped into a softer tone. “Trust me, I get it. Maybe not in the same way, but in a way regardless. I did too. I still do. I still struggle with that feeling. I just choose not to act on it, because what good does it do anyone? There are better ways to channel rage at an unjust system than to just continue the cycle of hate and hurt.”
“I think Bren and I have said all we need. You clearly have your mind set, Baron. So please, leave before I have to escort you.” Nix said firmly.
Quinn scoffed. “You--” In the utter blink of an eye, she had grabbed the back of his head and slammed his forehead onto the table.
“Yes. Me.” She retorted, eyes flashing angrily. For a moment, I was too stunned to move, let alone try to speak for fear that the words would come out wrong as I tried to process what had just happened.
“I think we should leave, Baron.” Sunny murmured lowly. His eyes flicked over Nix and then to me.
“You fucking bitch!” Quinn snarled, reaching for his sword.
“No!” I put myself in between Quinn and Nix. “No, we are not doing this.” I was torn. “Just,” I tried to pry his hand away from his face, seeing a trickle of blood run between his fingers, “You’re bleeding.”
“Get your hands off me!”
“Quinn.” I knew my voice was quiet, almost broken. “Quinn, please.” Nix glanced at Sunny.
“Let’s go, Baron. We are no longer guests and are outnumbered.” Quinn glowered, pointing a finger in Nix’s direction.
“If you think you will get away with this...”
“We need to leave, Baron.” Sunny’s voice was no nonsense and Quinn followed as his regent ushered him out the door.
“Why, dear god why, does his regent have to be a good man? This would be far easier.”
Otherwise. I thought. It would be far easier otherwise. My mind lingered, for a moment, on the events that had transpired in this world when it had all been fictional, as I stood in the doorway.
“You’re going after him, aren’t you?” Nix asked. I watched Sunny and Quinn retreat on the backs of their horses, Quinn still clutching a hand to his head. I was torn, really torn. Nix was my best friend, and Quinn was... the baron of another territory. I let my hand fall from the doorway, shutting it behind me.
“No.” He didn’t want me. He didn’t even like me. He had made that much blatantly clear. And yet, he still took a part of me with him wherever he went. I hadn’t expected his visit to turn violent, but he was a violent man, and I was a fool... for thinking that he could change. I wanted to stand at our gates and scream for all the rage and the bitterness kept up inside me. Some part of me wished we’d never come here, or that if we had, that I would have been wiser and kept my mouth shut. Some part of me wished...
“You’re really not?” Nix questioned. “It’s going to eat you alive.”
“He doesn’t want anything to do with me, Nix. He actually doesn’t.”
“Listen, he’s an infuriating man. Reckless, stupid, deranged, but he does care about you.”
“If you heard what he said to me, you wouldn’t say that.” I murmured.
“So you’re just going to avoid him like the plague?”
“There’s work to be done.” And I left it at that, heading down into the kitchen to grab myself something to eat before heading out to the fields. At least here, I could temper myself, focus my time and energy into something that would help people. What good would pursuing Quinn do us, do me?
But I found myself at the edge of our territory in the following morning. Sleep had evaded me during the night, much spent tossing and turning in between dreams of Quinn and dreams of what had happened out there in the wilds. I would surely regret this but I followed the road to the Fort regardless. I didn’t have to wait long at the gates, but then again, it was Sunny who let me through.
“He’s in his study.” Was all I was offered, left alone. I’m sure something on my face must have given away my intentions, and I made my way up to Quinn’s study, knocking once before slipping inside. Quinn’s head snapped up at the interruption, anger set in his eyes.
“Get out!”
“Hear me out... and then I’ll leave if you still wish it.” I murmured. I watched his jaw grind together before he finally looked away, the early morning sun catching his face at just the right moment and revealing the bruise and cut at his eyebrow. “Christ.” I muttered under my breath.
“Speak.”
“Are you alright?” Quinn blinked, eyes flicking back to mine. “I didn’t... I wasn’t...” I started. It was my turn to look away. “I...” I wanted to cross the room, to take his face in my hands, and tell him that it would be alright.
“So the high and mighty Baron Bren is reduced to a stuttering mess.” Quinn snapped. “Get out of my office!”
“Why do you do this?!” I crossed the room that time, standing in front of his desk. “Why do you do this, Quinn? Why do you do this?” He turned his head away, ignoring me. “Please, just give me an honest answer and I’ll leave. I will put your barony behind me, and you will never have to worry about me again.” That promise dug a burr deep in me but I would bear it even if it killed me. I felt the unbidden tears burning hot at his lack of response. He really wouldn’t even dignify me with a response?
The tears rolled down my cheeks, splattering across the papers on his desk, ink starting to run. My logical mind told me to leave, leave and put this nonsense behind me, but my heart screamed at me otherwise.
“You can drop the damsel in distress routine and get out of my office!” Quinn snapped.
“I wish that... I wish that I could.” My voice broke, and there was nothing to hold it back anymore. I wanted Nix. I wanted to go home. Not home like this barony that I had claimed, no. I wanted to go home.
“Stop trying to garner my pity!”
“I don’t want your fucking pity!” I was breaking. “I want to go home!
“Then go!”
“Not to some barony, to some mansion! I want to go home. I want to go back! To where none of this was real! I want to go back to where loving you didn’t hurt so much!” I dug my fingers into the desk, trying to stay upright, trying not to collapse to my knees in an absolute mess.
Quinn reared back for a good minute, trying to regard Bren, head bowed to his chest, fingers gripping the edges of his desk, white-knuckled and voice broken as he spoke. He wasn’t Jade and this wasn’t turning emotions on and off on a dime to manipulate his way into something. This was... real.
Eventually the weight of reality pressed down enough on me that I broke beneath the burden, and went to my knees. Panic was like a wild animal, clawing at the inside of my chest. I had tried to be strong, be stubborn, be this person who could help the Badlands, but I wasn’t, I couldn’t... I couldn’t stop the tears now; I couldn’t stop the panic brewing in my chest. I couldn’t stop the overwhelming burden of this reality.
There were hands pressing me into the warmth of a body behind me, fingers pressing my head into an unyielding chest, a heartbeat beneath my cheek. He didn’t say anything; he just stayed there. He just stayed there and weathered the storm beside me, through all the tears and the screams. I wanted to fight it; I wanted to fight it knowing that it couldn’t be real, but there were arms around me and it felt too right to just be a dream.
It was real. It was real. It was real. Quinn pressed his hand against Bren’s head, rooting him against his body as he struggled beneath the touch, screaming out in-- could it be pain? Quinn had no idea, only that it sounded like Bren was anguished over it. He was moving to fight but his body was in no condition to obey, and he just lay there, tucked and helpless beneath the hold of Quinn’s arms.
When it finally passed, I was too drained to move, just resting my head against Quinn’s chest. My eyes burned and my throat was raw and I tasted blood in the back of my mouth. I was vaguely aware that I had pushed myself to my utter limits and collapsed. “I tried...” My voice was long gone, coming out in a hoarse whisper. “I tried to save Jacobee. I tried, Quinn. He saved my life.”
Strong-minded Jacobee. One of the few barons in history who had inherited his territory when his father had passed away. He had been a strong Clipper and a good field medic, but he wasn’t suited to be Baron. He had been like a fox, clever and wily, but also incredibly naïve to the uprising that had transpired in his barony, Quinn thought.
Bren’s fingers curled into his arm, clinging for dear life as he keened out a quiet whine, the sound echoing in the now abysmally quiet room. And what he said next surprised Quinn.
“I killed Ryder.”
“You did what was necessary to survive.” Quinn didn’t give two shits about Ryder. He instigated a coup; he got what he deserved. But it was almost as if Bren didn’t hear him; maybe he didn’t. Quinn couldn’t tell.
“He was unarmed.” Bren took in a shuddering breath. “He didn’t see me coming. And the sound he made, I still hear it every night in my dreams.” He shivered beneath Quinn’s touch, body trembling still. “I can still feel the burn of rope tied around my wrists. I can still feel the point of cold steel pressed into my neck.”
“You’re safe here.” Quinn murmured quietly, thumb brushing across the aforementioned scar on his neck. “I... I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Brenior.”
I looked up to Quinn but his eyes were far away. “You know my name.”
“Hm?” Quinn finally looked down, something not cold and callous and cruel on his face. Something almost soft, almost sorrowful.
“You know my name.” He inclined his head in a brief nod. “I don’t remember telling it to you.”
“When we found you, you were too far gone to recognize me. Nix suggested that I call you by your name.”
“Did she tell you what it means?” Quinn furrowed his brow.
“Should she have?” I leaned back into his chest, listening to his heart, comforted by the sound.
“Brenior means the enduring one.” I could feel the shiver that raced through Quinn. “And all I could think about getting out of there was that I had not named myself this to go down without a fight. I’ve spent my whole life fighting, surviving, maybe not like Badlands, but fighting regardless.”
“I said things to you in anger that I shouldn’t have said.” Quinn murmured, his voice low. “And for that, I apologize. I was... wrong. It would be well within your right not to--”
“I forgive you.” I replied.
“Bren.” His voice was chiding.
“You think I shouldn’t? I wouldn’t be me...”
“If you didn’t have your compassion, your humanity, your good heart... We’ve been through this conversation a dozen times.” I frowned, shaking my head.
“I don’t get you, Quinn. I don’t get why you were so adamant that I rise up and be this Baron, but when I do it, you’re angry. You challenge my ideals and then you get angry that I stick to them.”
“I wanted you to stay.” His voice was almost a whisper, soft and hesitant. I blinked, caught off guard by this admission. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I wanted you to stay. I could have managed the extra barony.”
“I don’t doubt your prowess, Quinn, but it would have killed you. It’s better this way.”
“Do you tell yourself that, out in your fields, knowing that days of hard labor will shorten your life?” Quinn asked. “I’ve worked those fields. They are no place for someone like you.”
“I would prefer the labor of my own two hands than to know and live with someone else suffering so that I can live in luxury. The barony is a work in progress, but I will work to better it so long as I take breath in the Badlands.” The hint of a smile quirked at Quinn’s lips.
“Baron through and through.”
“Oh, that’s not a compliment I hear, is it?” I teased quietly. “I don’t want to fight you, Quinn. I really don’t. And I’m sure my Baroness has other opinions, but I would like our baronies to be in alliance with each other.”
“Oh, and what is it exactly that you aim to bring to the table?”
“I can help you fix your poppy crop if you would stop being so goddamn obstinate about it.”
“And what would you expect of me in return? A share of the profits or the production? I imagine your barony has been hurting for coin.”
“The logical part of me says yes.” I finally managed to unfold myself from the kneeling position that I’d been crouched in for the better part of an hour, hissing out through my teeth quietly, pressing my hand into a scar on already ravaged flesh. “But it feels like I’d be taking blood money.”
“But the prideful part of you says no, doesn’t it?” Quinn asked.
“It’s not pride, Quinn. It’s having to put aside my own ideals of what the Badlands could be for the survival of my barony. It won’t change overnight, much as I dream that it would.” He still hadn’t let go, interestingly enough. Not that I particularly minded; he was rather comfortable.
“I will... consider... an alliance.” I never wanted to let go, or be let go for that matter. I knew I had ridden through a panic attack but not one like this before. I shouldn’t feel safe with this man as much as he’d hurt me and as much as I knew he was capable of, but at the same time, I didn’t want anyone else to be in this position. Only Nix could see me broken like this, but I couldn’t put that on her with everything else I’d put her through. I shivered again. “You could do with a day’s rest. Stay the night. I’ll have Mari bring something to your room.”
“You don’t have to do this.” I murmured, immediately missing the warmth when he finally let go. Quinn hesitated a moment.
“I... want to.”
“Can I borrow your Regent to send a message to Nix? I want her to know that I’m not missing.” I stood hesitantly, still on shaky legs.
“Whatever you need.” I met eyes with Sunny outside Quinn’s study, his eyes curious as he studied Quinn’s retreating back.
“Are you alright?”
“About as well as I can be for a man who... how much did you hear?” I asked quietly.
“Every Clipper in the Fort heard you screaming. I almost thought Quinn had...” His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. “I almost broke the door down.”
“Didn’t realize you cared for me so much.” I said dryly.
“I don’t understand why you care so much for Quinn, but you’re important to Nix, and that’s what matters.” I took in a soft breath, letting it go in a shuddering sigh.
“I know it’s stupid, and I know that I shouldn’t... but... he makes me feel safe, Sunny. And after everything that’s happened...” I hardly dared to meet his eyes. But there was no judgement there. The look on his face had morphed into something soft, maybe even understanding, before he resumed his post as Quinn’s regent.
“I believe you have a message for me, Baron?”
“Bren.” I corrected him softly. “Just tell Nix I’m at the Fort. That I’m safe. And that I’ll be back tomorrow. Perhaps our paths will cross on the road in the morning.”
“Perhaps.” I was giving him an out and he damn well knew it, giving me a curt nod as he headed away, leaving me to limp into my quarters and flop down on the bed. This morning had been quite exhausting, more than I’d bargained for, for certain, and sleep was already beginning to weigh heavy on me as I buried myself into the pillows, drifting to the faint scent of cinnamon.
#Welcome to the Badlands Series#So Long As I Take Breath#Baron Quinn X OMC#Sunny X OFC#cw: canon typical violence#cw: angst#cw: mention of death#tw: mention of death#cw: ptsd#tw: ptsd
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Last One Standing
Summary: Bren has made an enemy for himself in Quinn’s barony; he just doesn’t know it yet. But when an attempt to overthrow Quinn surfaces at a party, Bren accidentally gets corralled in with the Regent of another territory. She finds him particularly valuable... and he walks away with her willingly, letting himself be taken captive rather than fight and risk death being outnumbered. As one can imagine, one Baron Quinn isn’t exactly happy about this turn of events...
A/N: You can’t convince me otherwise that the barons in the Badlands wouldn’t hold social events/parties for just any given reason. Also, there’s a lot going on, so I apologize in advance.
Pairing(s): Baron Quinn X OMC, Sunny X OFC
Taglist: @my-fandom-musings
POV: 1st and 3rd Person
WARNINGS: Major Character Death, Blood/Injury, Implied Torture
Divider Credit: firefly-graphics
“I want answers!” Quinn bellowed at Nix. “NOW!
She took a deep breath, knowing the story she was about to tell would be hard to believe but could help in saving Bren. “Fine. But the odds of you believing me are slim to none and slim’s outta town.”
And so Nix began her complex story, taking minutes out of the night. A long silence descended into the area, and Minerva was the first to speak, though her expression still read at best that she was stunned. “Well, that explains a lot.”
“They took Bren because they wanted Bren, Baron,” Sunny stated quietly, uncertain. This information explained a lot about their untraditional behavior, and Nix had even said that Bren knew more about their world, but... what could be that valuable that another baron would risk open war for?
Quinn’s expression was less than pleased, cold, and he spoke through gritted teeth when he finally did speak. “And the traitor?”
“I chased them into Jacobee’s territory. But you know as well as I do that crossing that boundary-- for you, for me, for anyone-- is a declaration of open war! You want him back? You’re going to have to call parley for him.” Minerva started.
“Do NOT come into my barony and tell me what to do! Another baron instigating a coup is cause enough for me to go to war!” Quinn growled.
Nix’s eye twitched. “And if they kill him because you hastily attacked them, I will advise you learn to sleep with your eyes open for the rest of your painfully short life!”
Waldo raised an eyebrow slightly. “Why, again, didn’t you want to train her?” He noticed Sunny smirk and then fail to hide it before his expression turned serious again. The situation wasn’t lost on them. Sixteen of Quinn’s Clippers were dead for disloyalty. The party had quickly turned deadly, and Bren was missing in action.
“You’re being goaded into war,” Minerva murmured. “Have some sense, Quinn!”
“ENOUGH!” Quinn finally snapped. When he spoke again his voice was eerily calm. “Sunny, get your Clippers to clean up the mess. I want a missive on Jacobee’s desk by dawn. You ride in there, and if you see him, you do not come back without him.”
“Yes, Baron.”
But of course, things would never be that simple. As soon as the missive had been written, Sunny was on the back of his horse, taking a late-night trip through the baronies. His senses were uneasy at best. Something was wrong; that much he knew. He could have followed the boundary line of the baronies but chose to take the main path instead and found Jacobee’s barony dark. Even the mining operations were down. Were it not for the footfalls of his horse, Sunny would have been left in deafening silence.
The front door was open, left hanging, and glass shattered everywhere. It honestly looked like a tornado had torn through but there had been no such recorded storms as of late. Senses on alert, Sunny slipped into the mansion, checking every room. Most were empty, though few littered with the bodies of deceased Clippers-- Jacobee’s. If Sunny had to venture a guess, they were probably the few who had remained loyal. There was no sign of struggle in Jacobee’s quarters, in his office, or anywhere else. Had he let himself be taken then? Whatever the case, Sunny now knew this was no isolated incident. It looked to be like Quinn wasn’t the only one who had had a coup.
He made his way out quietly, moving in the shadows as best he could not to be seen. By the time he made it back into the Fort, the first tendrils of dawn were beginning on the horizon. He found Quinn in his office, fingers steepled together and face drawn into a scowl, and a frown that deepened when he saw Sunny returning alone.
“You found nothing?”
“I found a problem.” Sunny replied. “The heart of Jacobee’s barony is dark. The mining operations are down. The Cogs are gone. The Clippers are either dead or gone. Jacobee is gone. There was no one there.”
“Pull a conclave. Now. I want every baron on their feet and at the Foundation as soon as they know.”
“Yes, Baron.” There would be no rest for the weary when Quinn was like this. Not that Sunny could particularly blame him. If everything Nix said was true-- and it was a big if-- but he could understand why they’d been so hesitant to share that. Portals appearing in the Badlands? The Badlands themselves not being real to them? That... couldn’t be real, and yet, somehow it all made sense. It meant that Bren knew the future; what baron wouldn’t want to have that kind of knowledge?
But this wasn’t borne out of Jacobee’s inexperience as baron, nor out of his thirst for knowledge. This was borne out of revenge and the pursuit of power, as things in the Badlands always were.
It was dark, wherever I had landed. I was ninety-nine percent sure that there was a bag over my head. It was honestly some of the best sleep I had ever-- and then reality slapped me back right in the face. I reeled back, too stunned for a moment to even register that it had happened, and with a soft chuckle, bright light poured into the area. I squinted for a moment, trying to adjust, when the face of Quinn’s hellspawn came into view. Not the first thing I’d recommend waking up to in the morning.
“I assume you know why you’re here?” Ryder asked. Oh, I had an idea but before I had the chance to get the words out, the second backhand landed against an already bruising cheek. Breathtaking, wonderful. The man really had his father’s temper.
“She made her bed. She laid in it. And she paid the price for it.” I replied, nursing my cheek against my shoulder. What was it with these men and their rings? Scratch that; I could see from here that it was a signet ring with an armadillo on it.
“You got Jade killed!” Ryder snapped, leveling a blade at my throat, the tip sharp enough to draw blood, sending a warm trickle down the front of my neck and chest. The seriousness wasn’t lost on me; lovers seeking to avenge those who had been lost often couldn’t be reasoned with. I didn’t exactly have a bargaining chip here.
“I need him alive, Ryder!” Zypher snapped.
“You’re gonna spill your guts or I’m gonna spill them for you.” Ryder hissed, driving the point of the blade in farther.
“Ryder!” A hand reached out and batted the blade away, cutting a slice down across a tender collarbone. I couldn’t help but to jump, yelping out in pain. “Now look at what you’ve done! Although... I could appreciate...” Ew. Zypher’s appraising look wasn’t unnoticed, and apparently neither was my jaw instinctively clenching. “So the rumors are true.” I didn’t say anything; there wasn’t anything I could say to help this kind of situation.
“What rumor?” Ryder asked.
“If you want to take an eye for an eye, Ryder, go kill your father.” It was hard for me to not react, but I’m sure the look in my eyes hardened.
“Quinn? No, no, they hate each other.” Ryder scoffed. “No, if I want to take an eye for an eye, I go find-- what was her name again-- Nix?”
“If you touch Nix, it’ll be the last time you have hands!” I growled.
“See what I mean?” Ryder twirled the dagger around in his hand. “But what are you going to do about it?” He asked, leaning in close, bringing the blade of his hand down my jaw. Honestly, he should have seen it coming. I reared back and headbutted him in the nose before he had the chance to draw away. It was almost satisfying to know that that sound was definitely his nose breaking as he hollered out a curse, dropping the dagger and giving me the chance to kick it under a far row of benches. “Oh, see, this is why you get under my father’s skin. Defiant to the end.”
I have not named myself Brenior to go down like this!
“I suggest you start cooperating,” Zypher murmured. “You’re gonna talk, and we’re gonna be the most influential barons in the Badlands.” Delusional, good to know. But even my grasp on reality was beginning to fade. The cut across my neck and collarbone was still bleeding, and I knew that my body would succumb either to the sheer shock of the situation alone or the shock of blood loss. I could see it now, in the way my vision caged in with fuzzy borders and the way Zypher’s voice started to slowly become farther and farther away.
“He’ll die if you don’t get him medical help. Then,” The sound of horrible choked coughing started and continued for a spell before a hoarse voice spoke up again. “Then where will you be but out of two baronies? Quinn will put bounties on both your heads. The Badlands will never be safe for you again... oh!” There was no mistaking the sudden gasp of pain.
“If you really think Quinn will concern himself with what happens in the Barony of Mining, you’re more foolish than I thought... Baron.” It was Zypher’s voice, which meant that the weakened, choking, and now in pain person was Jacobee. “We both know Quinn only has one concern, and that’s his poppy crop and his opium production. Which means by default his only concern is the Widow, and the events to turn those two against each other are already in motion. Quinn will be goaded into war; she’ll take his head and... Ryder will rise as baron.”
“He will never be the baron that surpasses Quinn. No good honest Clipper will follow him without a trial by combat, and you and I both know that boy will never win. He doesn’t have what it takes to be a leader.”
“Clearly he is not alone in that boat. Your opinion has been noted, Jacobee, but it’s no longer useful.”
“No!” I realized too late that Zephyr had driven her blade up his middle, a spray of blood slapping across my body. Oh, gods.
“Well... you are awake. Shame that. Maybe his field medicine skills weren’t as bad as I thought they were.” How could she just be this casual about taking a life? My eyes were fixed on Jacobee’s body before she stepped in front of me, tipping my chin away and dragging my eyes away from the scene. “Feel like talking now?”
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.” What did it matter now, what the future I knew was when so much had changed already?
When I finished, Zypher seemed satisfied, leaving the room with a self-satisfied smirk and I couldn’t help but go to my knees, checking Jacobee’s neck for a pulse. It was weak and fading. There wasn’t much I could do other than to take what little clothes remained and bind his wound together. It wouldn’t prevent death but maybe...
“Hm.” His lips curved into a slight smile. “I’d... heard the rumors about you.”
“Save your strength.” I don’t know why she’d left me unbound, a moment of folly perhaps.
“We both know... we both know I won’t walk away from this.” I swallowed hard, trying to... hells, what was I even trying to do? His hands stopped my own, shaking his head slightly. “You... keep your good heart.”
“I don’t know what to do.” My voice finally broke. The reality was crushing.
“Survive,” Jacobee whispered, the strength fading from his hands. I watched him take in one deep breath and then his chest did not rise again. I could feel the panic rising in my chest, anxiety threatening to boil over, but what good would it do me?
I did not name myself the enduring one to go out like this!
I scrabbled for the dagger that I had kicked under the farthest row of benches, taking a moment to steel myself. It was one of my own, which told me that I’d been frisked at the very least, but luckily, the set that the Widow had given me was a deceptive set of four stiletto blades disguised as two daggers. I popped the clasp that bound them together, steeling myself, trying to block out the fact that I would most likely have to kill to get out of this. It was self-defense only; it was self-defense only; it was self-defense only.
Quinn stood atop the walls of the Foundation, eyes sweeping the horizon. It had only been three days, hardly enough for the conclave to even convene and he was already tapping his fingers against his arm in irritation. It was too long for someone who wasn’t a fighter to be out there in this kind of situation. He had immediately declared and sent all available patrols to maintain the borders, and even the Widow had volunteered her forces but there was still nothing. A flare, fire smoke, Quinn would take anything at this point.
With Jacobee out of the question and the fate of his barony currently unknown, it was currently nomadic contested territory until a new baron was named. As if Bren being in enemy hands wasn’t bad enough, he would then have to either fight or persuade his way through a line of nomads. The days were beginning to drag on, and every hour more, Quinn itched to be on the back of a horse, making the patrol himself, looking for any clues his force might have missed.
“Go, if it bothers you that much,” Minerva commented softly. She didn’t dare get within five feet of Quinn, mostly because his entire form was written in tightly coiled tension. “We can’t do anything until we know more anyway.”
“I...” Quinn started, taking in a deep breath and seething that he had been read so easily. “Have a duty as baron to--”
“Go. You’re not doing anyone any favors here, pacing around like a caged animal. You want to be out there, so go be out there.” Quinn let out his breath through gritted teeth but he needed no further encouragement, turning on his heel and heading down the stairs.
Sunny found Nix in her room, throwing a jacket over her outfit. “And where do you think you are going?”
“I thought it would be fucking obvious. You all stand out like a sore thumb because everyone knows who your baron is. But me? The only ones who know who I am are in this barony and the Widow. I have a better chance of getting a lead on Bren.”
The idea of her, untrained and out there, turned Sunny’s stomach. “And what will you do if more nomads find you?”
Nix paused in her motions. “You know, in my old world, I had never killed a single soul. It’s not necessary there in order to move up. Well, unless you’re insanely wealthy and you hire others to do the dirty work. But that’s- that’s a story for another time. But, my point is, even though I had never taken a life before, I was always ready to do so. And I’m ready to do it here. For him.”
Sunny frowned at her words. “If your world is not as harsh as this, why would you need such mental preparation?”
Nix took a deep breath, “Perhaps after we’ve trusted each other more and liquor is involved, I will tell you the story of how I was raised. Just know, I took lessons as a child on how to fight and chefs are scary.”
Sunny raised an eyebrow at this. “Are they?”
“In my world they are. Or should be. When we go to school,” Nix held up a dagger that caught the light, “We are taught how to take apart a body in moments. Breaking down joints, cutting through tendons. All in a matter of minutes. Anything from the size of a chicken to a pig. I may not know the ways of fighting in your world, but you better believe I will not go down easily. I earned my name.”
Sunny frowned in confusion, “Earned your name?”
“Phoenix is a nickname, and therefore Nix is a nickname of a nickname,” She chuckled softly. “I have three nicknames if we’re being technical. I rarely go by my birth name. But I earned the name Phoenix. First, it was because of a character I wrote-”
“You write?” Sunny interrupted.
She gave him a look which silenced him. “Yes, once upon a time. But once I told people of my past, they began to call me Phoenix because of how many times I rose from the flames that tried to kill me.”
Sunny watched her spin the dagger in her hand with a well-practiced twirl before putting it in the sheath that was now on her hip. There was clearly more of her to learn.
“Fire cannot kill a dragon,” Her grey eyes met his brown ones and for once, he wasn’t afraid for her. “But the phoenix will rise from the ashes.”
I couldn’t afford to let reality be real right now. I had left a blood trail to get out here, but I had no idea where I was. I could only assume that wherever we had been held was only temporary-- based on a lack of supplies, rations, and well... people. It seemed like the same patrol that had taken me was the only patrol in the area. But I wouldn’t stand a chance in hell if I didn’t keep moving.
Find water. Keep moving. That was the practical side, and I heeded it for now. Once I found water, I could reassess from there. Nothing else mattered in the meantime. For once, all I could do was keep moving forward, so I picked a direction and prayed it was the right one, heading out. As disrespectful as it was to loot a body, I had picked my way through the Clippers, even through Ryder and Zypher. But the only thing they had carried of value was weapons, and I had only taken the other dagger, because that was the weapon I had become most familiar with.
There wasn’t a point to carrying any of the gold; sure, maybe it would have helped me trade, but most likely it would have only gotten me killed, so I’d skipped it. The only other things I’d taken was a shirt to keep the sun off my back and the signet rings. I had a feeling they were valuable, even if they weren’t valuable to me.
Luck gave me a river before the sun started to set. That solved one problem. The other problems were beginning to make themselves glaringly clear. I was no real fighter. I might have fought to survive, but I wasn’t a Clipper, and it was painfully obvious now that the initial adrenaline had worn off that I had taken more damage than just what Ryder and Zypher had done to me. But even that problem couldn’t be entirely addressed at the moment. The sun would set eventually and I risked death being out in the open by myself. I needed cover; I had no choice but to follow the river until it led me into a copse of trees. That would have to make do for the night.
Sunny was surprised that Quinn didn’t have anything to say about Nix joining their hunting party. But then again, they had split at the borders of Jacobee’s territory, Quinn taking the rest of the patrol to ride the border line, while Sunny and Nix went back into the heart of the barony.
He helped her off his horse and the two silently made their way inside the large house until they reached Jacobee’s office. Nix noticed it seemed similar to Quinn’s in that there were a vast amount of books and a large desk in the center. Sunny began in the obvious hiding spots first, to rule anything out, before standing behind the desk.
Nix watched as he opened one drawer after another to no avail. But something caught her eye on the last one. “Wait.”
Sunny looked at her in confusion as she reached into the drawer to tap on the bottom. A hollow sound followed.
“Thought as much. I had an uncle who had a desk like this.” Sunny watched as she used her dagger to pry the false bottom away to reveal a lock. She then placed the blade inside the keyhole and smacked her hand against the base of the handle. The drawer popped open. She noticed him watching her in awe. “What?”
“You know how to pick a lock with a dagger?”
She smiled sheepishly as she opened the drawer the rest of the way. “Useless talent number twenty-three. Though, in all fairness, these types of desks tend to have shitty locks that are made to look intimidating.”
Sunny blinked as she pulled papers out of the hidden spot, wondering what else he would learn about her. “And did you find this out by practicing on your uncle’s desk?”
Nix sighed as she pulled out a rolled up map. “Yes, but he was dead by then. And frankly, he could be a dick at times so he’s lucky I waited until he was dead.”
Sunny wanted to know more, but put it aside as Nix began to roll the map open.
“Holy shit. This place is way larger than I thought. It’s almost as big as Panem.”
Sunny frowned. “Is that where you’re from?”
“Gods no. Just another fictional dystopian future in my world. What are these marks on the map? They don’t seem to be barracks or baronies. Are those markets?”
Sunny took a closer look at the map before cursing under his breath. “We need to get this to Quinn. Now.”
Quinn started the search at his own border line, aiming to head west in a large sweep, sending two ten man patrols down either side of the barony. With any luck, they could comb out Jacobee’s hideouts and hopefully, hopefully, he would find Bren in one of them. Too much time had been wasted already; every hour more decreased the chances of survival. Sure, he might have survived the first trek from the Fort to the Widow’s territory, but he hadn’t been alone. As much as Quinn loathed to admit it, Nix had some capability with a blade and survival was always greater in numbers.
But every hideout they sussed out was in disrepair, empty. Quinn wrinkled his nose in distaste. Not every barony followed the law that barons could be overthrown in trial by combat. Some of them simply willed for their progeny to have it instead; such was Jacobee’s reign as baron. It had been passed down to him after the passing of his father, and as such, while Jacobee might have been a good Clipper, he didn’t possess the drive to be baron.
“Baron.” Sunny rejoined him on the second day in the field, meeting Quinn at what would have been the most prominent hideout, like a secondary headquarters. Quinn dismounted his horse, drawing his blade.
“Fan out. You find anyone alive, bring them to me.” Quinn ordered, heading in without a second glance back. Sunny gave Nix a brief nod.
“Stay close.” So far they’d been lucky enough not to run into any nomad raiders, but given that Quinn was leaving a bloody trail to follow, he wasn’t giving them much of an option. They took the pathways that were more well lit by the faint strays of sunlight through broken windows of the hideout when Sunny suddenly put his hand out, pressing Nix behind him. He wrinkled his nose.
“What is it?” Nix asked.
“Death.” Sunny replied quietly. “Or more accurately, the smell of death.” Nix swallowed hard. It was a possibility alright, but she could hope... she could hope Bren got away. Sunny peered around the corner to reveal a hallway tunnel, taking the jump down and realizing that there was a copper smear where his hand was. Dried blood. A few days’ old too given the looks of it.
“This is a train station.” Nix realized.
“A-what?” Sunny asked.
“You know, like public transport?” Sunny gave her an entirely blank look, taking a moment to examine the corpse that looked to be haphazardly tossed against the other side of the tracks. More accurately, he had probably been kicked there. Short stab wounds, something reminiscent of a dagger. There were more corpses down the line and Sunny followed the path, leading out into an old rail headhouse.
“Six.” Sunny murmured. “Six dead Clippers.” He followed the blood spatters to another body. The red jacket made it fairly obvious who it belonged to. “Baron!” The shout echoed in the empty station. Good thinking, or at least quick decision making had ended Ryder’s life fairly quickly. Nomads would have picked the body clean, but as far as Sunny could tell, the only thing missing was Ryder’s signet ring. There were more blood spatters, not from someone who was running, but someone who was limping. If he was putting all the pieces together right... he noted that the blood splatter tracked off in a different direction than the next body, slumped in a doorway.
“Zypher.” Sunny whispered. Quinn made his way over to the body, blade at her cheek, but she was definitely already gone. Sunny crouched at the body-- more short stab wounds-- and as he peered beyond the doorway, there lay Jacobee. Sunny stepped over the body, first to note that someone had tried to bind the wound that ran up his middle. It could have been Zypher; it could have been Bren. But there wasn’t a chance in hell that this wound could have been made by a dagger. Jacobee’s signet ring was also missing-- not the work of raiders.
“Well?” Quinn asked.
“Everyone else died by a dagger wound. But not Jacobee. I can only assume...” Bren was alive? “He took out Zypher by surprise, and Ryder shortly after, and ran down that,” Sunny gestured as he stepped from the room, “Hallway with a patrol of six Clippers in pursuit. In close quarters, he was injured... but he came back when he realized he was no longer being pursued... and took off in that direction.” Sunny pointed to the blood trail on the floor.
“Get the hounds!” Quinn barked out, and every available Clipper scattered to obey. They were getting closer. And the hounds would only ensure that no more time was wasted.
“He took the signet rings.” Sunny murmured. Quinn gave him a sharp glance.
“Now is not the time to discuss that.” Quinn replied.
“As you wish, Baron.” Well that little exchange was entirely bizarre, Nix thought, following in Sunny’s wake.
The trail led to the river’s edge and from the river, North in the forests. Sunny stopped to kneel a few meters inside the forest’s edge. “He stopped to make camp... somewhere he wouldn’t be caught in the open. He put his back to a tree, and made a binding for a wound.”
“He crossed the river.” Quinn crossed at the shallows, following the tracks. They led into the Widow’s territory. There was a row of blue flags missing from the stones that marked the boundary line. The forested areas of the Widow’s territory were dangerous. Even brazen nomads did not usually cross into areas infested with steel and bear traps, made to deter both animal and human alike. But the sight ahead alone was enough for Quinn to dismount, clearing a path through the fallen leaves. His blade met the cheek of a nomad caught in one of the traps.
“The man you were pursuing, where is he?” Quinn asked coldly.
“The river.” The nomad didn’t have much life left in him; his body already betrayed the blood loss.
“Hm?” Quinn raised his eyebrows.
“He went into the river!” Quinn took a cursory glance in that direction. The river’s path flowed South, down from the Widow’s territory. The place where they had crossed was shallow enough, but not so now. Even a good swimmer would struggle going upstream, never mind the fact that he was injured. With a quick flick of his sword, the nomad was gone and Quinn stepped carefully to the river’s edge. The embankment was steep and there was another body at the bottom of it, a blue butterfly flag wrapped around its neck.
“Is that...” Sunny asked quietly.
“Nomad.” Quinn answered.
“Maybe I underestimated him.”
“Maybe.” Quinn replied. The river bank was small enough that trekking it would be impossible on horseback, and riding the edge up a rocky terrain would be foolish. “We continue on foot. Petri!”
“Yes, Baron?”
“Ride back to the Foundation. Tell the Widow we’re running a pursuit into her territory. If her butterflies get in the way, I have no intent to cooperate.”
“Understood, Baron.”
“Sunny. Take Nix and the rest of the patrol and ride ahead to the flatlands.” Sunny nodded curtly in understanding. Hopefully they could cut Bren off in his trek across the hilled terrain. “Sebastian. On my six.” Quinn took a step down, navigating the rocky riverbank carefully, with Sebastian following closely behind.
I took a moment at sunset to rest. There were only open plains now, no place to hide other than in the reeds of the riverbank. Using the flags I had stolen from the territorial marker, I set off to give the wound on my leg a good binding. There was no point in washing it out without anything sterile. Every time I stopped, every time I took a rest, it got harder and harder to move around. I could only hope that I would land somewhere familiar soon. Hell, at this point, I think I would barter away my knowledge for a bed and good medicine. I stayed awake as long as I could, but sleep took me before the sun even set fully.
It was the aching pain in my leg that brought me back into consciousness. The sun wasn’t even in the sky and I had no choice but to weather the pain until it was light enough for me to travel and even getting up took my breath away, let alone putting weight on that leg. I couldn’t wait around to be found. I had to keep moving.
Sunny frowned. So Bren had followed the river. Quinn had crossed the hills in the night and was now resting in a camp with the other Clippers. They couldn’t be far behind; the reeds broken in the underbrush by the river were still green, although the afternoon heat was quickly drying them out. He grumbled out a soft sound. “We need to go, Baron. We aren’t far behind him.”
Was that a road?! I veered over the river edge’s to investigate the well-worn cobblestone path. How far had I walked that there would be a road? I couldn’t remember anything about a map now, though it pressed vaguely at the edges of my road that I had often studied the one in Quinn’s office. I knew enough to know that pain was clouding my senses now, the world passing as if it were in a haze.
Quinn urged his horse on at the baying of the hound and Sunny raised his head to see a figure walking unsteadily along the white cobblestone pathways that dotted the Widow’s territory. Within minutes, Quinn had dismounted, putting himself in Bren’s path. He was alive. He was alive. But almost as soon as Bren’s eyes zeroed in on him, he was in combat. Daggers came flying for him and Quinn caught Bren’s wrist, dagger inches from making contact with his face. The other hand came gunning for his side and stomach and Quinn deterred that one too, leaving them at an awkward angle, bodies open to each other. Bren reared his head back, spitting in Quinn’s face, one hand dropping the dagger at his side.
Fingers flicked the clasp open of the other dagger as Quinn moved to wipe his face, startled by the action, and it was enough of an opening for the small stiletto to cut a swipe through the underside of his arm guard. They separated, Quinn’s hand going for his sword, but he hesitated, watching Bren bring the blade to his mouth, tongue running the length of the blade, wet with blood. Eyes focused, hardened into steel, and Bren lunged again for Quinn.
Nix started towards the scene unfolding, but Sunny caught her in his arms. “No.” He murmured. “No, he is not himself here. He is in survival mode, and he has left a trail of bodies behind him. You are not adding yourself to that number!”
Quinn knocked the dagger away, sweeping an already injured leg and tucking Bren close to his own body, arms crossed over a struggling body, pinning Bren’s hands to his sides as he fought to remain free. “You’re alright. You’re safe.” But such affirmations were beyond Bren.
“Call him by his name!” Nix shouted. “Brenior!”
Brenior. It was unfamiliar to Quinn when all they had ever known him by was Bren. Bren’s head snapped in the direction of Nix’s voice and he began to fight Quinn’s grasp harder.
“Brenior.”
“Brenior!” It was Nix’s call again that made him snap, sinking teeth into Quinn’s arm and dead sprinting, sprinting as best as an injured man could, in her direction as Quinn yelped and let go. Sunny had his blade out in seconds, ready to defend Nix. He didn’t expect Bren to duck under the blade and launch himself into Nix, head buried against her shoulder immediately, the fight just leaving him. Fingers clutched desperately into her jacket as his legs gave out beneath him, and unconsciousness followed quickly after.
Nix. Nothing else mattered in that moment more than her, and when I had my arms around her, I knew she was real. I had been found.
#Last One Standing#Welcome to the Badlands Series#Baron Quinn X OMC#Sunny X OFC#cw: major character death#tw: blood#tw: injury#tw: torture
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Welcome to the Badlands Series
Author’s Note: Or more specifically, welcome to @i-drink-and-i-write-fics and I’s latest accidental collaborative project.
Summary: Bren and Nix have fallen into the Badlands. One thing leads to another and well... chaos begins to unfold in the Badlands, for the better or for the worse.
Pairing(s): Baron Quinn X Original Male Character (Bren), Sunny X Original Female Character (Nix)
Spotify Playlist: Welcome to the Badlands
Dancing With Danger - themerriweathermage
My Watcher - i-drink-and-i-write-fics
In The Midnight Hour - i-drink-and-i-write-fics
Firestarter - themerriweathermage
Last One Standing - themerriweathermage & i-drink-and-i-write-fics
The Hanging Tree - i-drink-and-i-write-fics
Whiskey and Cinnamon - themerriweathermage
Vows (18+) - i-drink-and-i-write-fics
A Sound Like Thunder - themerriweathermage
Firebird - i-drink-and-i-write-fics
So Long As I Take Breath - themerriweathermage & i-drink-and-i-write-fics
Baroness - i-drink-and-i-write-fics
When Fates Align - themerriweathermage & i-drink-and-i-write-fics
The Gods Will Protect - i-drink-and-i-write-fics & themerriweathermage
Euphorbia (18+) - themerriweathermage
Yuletide - i-drink-and-i-write-fics
Midwinter’s Flame (18+) - themerriweathermage
Moria - i-drink-and-i-write-fics
The Price of Freedom - themerriweathermage & i-drink-and-i-write-fics
Breaker of Chains - i-drink-and-i-write-fics
A Broken Oath - themerriweathermage & i-drink-and-i-write-fics
The Road to Healing - i-drink-and-i-write-fics & themerriweathermage
A Taste of Freedom - i-drink-and-i-write-fics & themerriweathermage
Trust Is Such A Delicate Thing - themerriweathermage & i-drink-and-i-write-fics
What Doesn’t Kill You (Makes A Fighter) - themerriweathermage & i-drink-and-i-write-fics
The Council of Nost Bronadui (4-Part Series) - themerriweathermage & i-drink-and-i-write-fics
Visions & Prophecies - i-drink-and-i-write-fics & themerriweathermage
An Engagement To Remember- i-drink-and-i-write-fics & themerriweathermage
Playing With Fire- themerriweathermage & i-drink-and-i-write-fics
Wrath and Ruin - themerriweathermage & i-drink-and-i-write-fics
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A Sound Like Thunder
Summary: What day in the Armadillo barony hasn’t ended in constant arguing betwixt Quinn, Bren, and Nix? In the aftermath of one of these arguments, Quinn challenges Bren’s ideals and gets more than he bargained for...
Pairing: Baron Quinn X Bren
POV: 1st and 3rd person
Taglist: @my-fandom-musings
WARNINGS: Implied Trauma? Angst
Divider Credit: firefly-graphics
Quinn’s voice stopped me in my tracks. I had been thinking about heading down to the barracks if nothing else to see if Waldo would help me practice my forms. After all, Nix and Sunny were long gone, heading down the stairs to the kitchens. “You really believe in all that bullshit? You really believe that the future here isn’t so different?” I turned on my heel, giving him a questioning glance.
“Do you want me to be honest?” I asked. I waited a moment with no answer. “With men like you in charge...?” I stepped closer to him as he took a seat at his desk. “It will always be like that with men like you in charge.” I eyed the Capitol miniature sitting on the table behind him. “Does it surprise me that the Old World fell? If your Old World was anything like our modern world, nothing would surprise me anymore.”
“Didn’t think you were the type.”
“The type to what?” The way Quinn was smirking, it was obvious that that was an insult.
“But I mean, you clearly don’t have what it takes.” Oh, we were back on that, were we? My eyes lingered on the signet ring on his pinky, fingers steepled together. He was laughing at me, no doubt. “The type who stirs up trouble and then won’t take responsibility for it.”
“Oh, I take full responsibility for teaching your Cogs to sing sea shanties. There’s a reason behind it. There’s a reason behind it, that when sailors are fed up with their conditions but no one dares to propose a mutiny, that they will let their captain know that he is only one man, and they are the sails, the rope, the rudder that powers that ship. And there are much, much worse shanties I could teach them that when their combined voices rise, even a man like you would step back and reconsider!”
“But you won’t take the responsibility of a barony!” His voice had risen, in... anger? He stood, scowl building on his face. “Is it love that binds you to my barony? Or even lust?” Fingers tipped my chin to the side, exposing my throat to him. Fear. Fear was the answer to that question. I was no leader. I had never been that person. Sure, my heart was big and bold and compassionate and I was a bleeding heart with a hell of a temper, but I had never done anything like what Quinn was suggesting. I grabbed his wrist, anger flaring throughout my body.
“I doubt someone like you would EVER understand my reasoning for that.” I retorted, fingers digging into his wrist, grip like a vice.
“You’re a coward!” Quinn snapped. “You play with fire and then refuse to take responsibility when that fire inevitably burns someone!”
“Sweetheart, I am the fucking fire! It’s not my fault your mother didn’t teach you not to play with matches!”
Sunny winced. Apparently Quinn had... instigated something up there in his office and now the sound was making its way down the stairs and across the house.
“Oh, you have greater ideals and morals than the rest of us, on your high and mighty horse and nothing to show for it. At least I have a successful barony!”
“You won’t have success for long if you keep running it the way you do! Your Cogs hate you; your Clippers resent you, and your goddamn poppy crop is failing because you’re too prideful to ask for help!” I hissed, slamming my hands down on his desk, feeling the fury rising in my chest.
“You bastard!” Quinn lunged over the desk, fingers tangling in my hair, yanking me into a bruising kiss. I swore I blinked for a moment, trying to register the fact that his lips were on mine. Instinctively, my hand was at the back of his head, keeping him rooted there. For a moment I let myself be lost in his touch, in the taste of whiskey still on his tongue, and to the heat that he brought to my skin. But then his mouth moved, teeth biting their way down my jaw and into my neck.
“No.” But he never stopped. “I said no, Quinn!” I let go then, pushing him backwards into his chair with a heavy thump, nearly making the chair tip over in the process had he not suddenly grabbed onto the desk and righted himself. “This is why. Because men like you don’t listen. You just take what you want regardless of the consequences! After all, they’re not consequences to you as long as you don’t have to face them!” He bared his teeth in a growl, real anger glittering in his eyes.
“You’re nothing, do you hear me, nothing in this world!” I drew back, hurt and angry and chiding myself for the fool I had been to let my heart get tangled up in this mess. I snatched the signet ring, Jacobee’s signet ring, off the center of his desk, stalking over to the door.
“At least I’m a man who still has his fucking humanity.” I replied. “Don’t you dare think that I’ll sit so quietly for you after this. Goodnight... Baron.” The house shuddered in the wake of the force I slammed the door shut with, and the house Cogs scattered at the sight of me. I furrowed my brow, scowling. I had gotten myself involved in the mess; I would get myself out of this mess. It was time to grab this life in the Badlands by the balls and make it cooperate. So Quinn thought I was a coward? Well, I wasn’t about to prove him right; that was one thing I knew for certain.
The Foundation was empty; that much Minevera knew. The barons had dispersed after Bren had been found and treated, and all in all, nothing had come of discussing the barony of mining at the conclave. It would be treated as nomad contested territory until someone rose up to take that mantle and challenge the man who was in current possession of Jacobee’s signet ring-- and few people were willing to challenge Quinn. That, however, had just changed in the matter of moments, when the telltale sound of a firework had deafeningly burst over the Foundation, green sparks lingering in the air for a moment before fading. The Barony of Mining had just been claimed.
Sunny stepped outside for a moment. The whistle song of the firework being lit had caught his attention and he was privy enough to see it burst into a thousand sparks. “Oh no.”
Nix joined him, drawn to the commotion. “Why the oh no?”
“It came from the Foundation. It’s a sign that Jacobee’s barony has been claimed. A new baron has risen.”
“Why do you sound so concerned?”
“Quinn had the signet ring. The key.” Sunny turned, glancing down at Nix. “How well do you know your friend? Would he claim a barony? It is rightfully his; he won it through trial by combat.”
“You think Bren...?” Nix started, uncertain.
“If there had been another coup, we would have heard about it by now. But we left Bren in his office, and it would not be the first time he’s been caught in the thick of arguing with Quinn about it.”
Quinn swore under his breath quietly at the sight of the firework that had, for a brief moment, lit up the sky as bright as day. “Shit.” Why was it that his words never came out the right way whenever he was around Bren? Yes, the man was annoying, a perpetual thorn in his side, but Quinn wouldn’t have it any other way. And the admission that Bren loved him? Oh, that just did things to him. But he was hopeless at reading the man; one minute, it was all fun and games and then Bren turned at the flip of a coin. Perhaps there was real truth in that this world just wasn’t his home-- what was it Nix had said-- that as soon as the shock wore off, his body would want to fight? But he’d shown no signs of said shock, and Quinn had just assumed...
He would never make it running a barony. He was young and inexperienced and his heart was far too good, and for all Quinn knew, he had just damned the man to an early death, as much as the one Jacobee had experienced. He had hoped that Bren would choose to stay here, within the confines of the Fort, where it was safe, but words had spilled out in anger, words that he hadn’t meant and even he wasn’t immune to the fact that he had hurt Bren.
Quinn grumbled, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. Tonight had definitely not turned in his favor. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling of Bren’s hand at the back of his head, the heat that had flushed through his skin at Quinn’s touch, his mouth warm and wanting. Admittedly, perhaps he’d been overzealous... enough that Bren had finally snapped and pushed him away. But what on Earth had happened to him to make him react like that?
#Welcome to the Badlands Series#A Sound Like Thunder#Baron Quinn X OMC#cw: implied/referenced trauma#cw: angst
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Whiskey and Cinnamon
Summary: Bren doesn’t remember all the details of how he’s ended up at The Fort, nor does he expect of all things for his company to be Quinn. But the baron stays regardless of Bren being awake and conscious and maybe, just maybe...
Pairing: Baron Quinn X OMC (Bren)
POV: 1st and 3rd Person
Taglist: @my-fandom-musings
WARNINGS: Mention of Torture, Mention of Drugs, Lots of Angst
Divider Credit: firefly-graphics
“Are you, are you comin' to the tree?
Where they strung up a man, they say who murdered three
Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be
If we met at midnight in the hanging tree.”
I don’t remember my world going dark. I don’t remember anything but a white road. There’s a voice that lingers in my memory, in the back of my mind, and a song that I know from a world that is not this one. There are pillows beneath my head, a bed beneath my body. But I can’t open my eyes-- I can’t open my eyes and be greeted with the fact that this is only a dream. I clutch the pillow in my arms closer to my body, nuzzling into it. There’s a scent here that I can’t immediately place, whiskey and cinnamon, and... “Quinn.” The word slips out in a whisper, torn from a raw throat.
“Mmmm.” A low noise sounded from beside the bed, and I opened my eyes slowly. The room was fairly dark, save for a lamp illuminating the corner and a chair that was occupied by Quinn. I blinked slightly, sinking back down into the pillows. Why was he here? Why was he... oh this was just a dream, wasn’t it? It always was; they were always just out of reach. “Did you just call my name?” Quinn turned in the chair, sleep growl still in his voice, and I doubly blinked, raising up slightly.
“You’re real?”
Quinn would never admit it, but the shock in Bren’s voice utterly ruined him in that moment. Did he think this was a dream? Perhaps so... Quinn had never walked that path; he had never been captured-- not as a Colt, not as a Clipper, and definitely not as a Baron. He would have never walked with his capturers so willingly, but he couldn’t fault Bren either for knowing his own strengths and weaknesses, and knowing he was outnumbered seven to one, eight if he counted Ryder among that mess. Instead Quinn offered his hand across the bed, wrist bandaged, and breached into Bren’s personal space.
“I’m real.”
He was offering his hand to me, laying it across the pillow. Would to take it mean to acknowledge that this was real? I reached for it, only to immediately recoil, hand going to the stitches on my neck and collarbone as I hissed out a curse between my teeth.
“I’ll get the doc. I’m sure he’ll want to give you a dose of...”
“No.” I panted it out softly. “I don’t want the opium.” I leaned back into the pillows. Oh, now the pain was starting to rear its ugly head. Now, it felt like I’d been... tortured. Well, there it was, wasn’t it?
“Bren, you’re in pain.” Quinn started. Did he just call me by my name? That thought was quickly overshadowed. It hurt to breathe, let alone everything else. I gave him a sideways glance; he was half out of the chair, giving me a questioning glance.
“Along the river outside the Fort grows white willow. The bark can be harvested from the new growth, dried, and used to make tea.” I muttered.
“I--”
“It contains salicin. It’s used as a pain reliever and a fever reducer.” I wet my lips, finding my mouth rather dry. I was surprised to find a glass at my lips not a few moments later, Quinn holding it for me to drink.
“Would Vernon know it?”
“I would think any good healer should. Its use out-dates modern medicine.” I took a sip of the water. Never have I been so grateful for such a thing in my life. Drinking river water had been a necessity but it was dangerous, especially without proper supplies.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Quinn murmured, nearly out the door as soon as I’d finished drinking.
“Quinn.”
“Hm?”
“Watch out for the hornet’s nest.” Just the hint of a smile twitched to his lips and he nodded in my direction.
His leave was surprisingly replaced by Lydia, and oh, I couldn’t tell her how much I didn’t want her to be in there, with the knowledge that I was her son’s executioner. Quinn likely didn’t care; I knew Lydia would. So I just shut my eyes and tried to block out the pain, tried to block out the images that filtered into my mind. It had been about survival, yes, but I could have survived without killing Ryder. Being the baron’s son gave him power, not prowess and not strength. And I had killed him in cold blood.
I shifted to the side best I could, burying my nose back into the pillow. She hummed out an amused sound. “Quinn has a soft spot for you.” I didn’t answer. At this point I knew that if I started talking, it would all just spill out. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so wound up about someone. Hells, even when Ryder was taken, Quinn didn’t give a shit like this.”
I must have taken her off guard when I finally did speak, voice even, measured, but incredibly flat. “Please leave.” Lydia was startled, giving me a glance.
“What?”
“Go. Get out. I don’t want you here.” I’m sure my voice carried no threats but she stood regardless.
“But Quinn...”
“Get out. Get Sunny or Nix or even Waldo, but don’t come back in here.” She disappeared through the doorway and I breathed out a heavy sigh, sinking back into the heavy weight of sleep.
“Willow bark tea...” My eyes fluttered to the sound of Vernon’s voice. “You know you’re the first person in a long time to explicitly ask for anything other than the opium. Baron Quinn would never let it be anything less than the finest quality in all the Badlands.”
I let out an annoyed grunt, opening my eyes wearily. “Of all the foolhardy, stubborn seeds to survive a literal apocalypse, why in the seven hells did it have to be the opium poppy?”
“Well, it’s...” Vernon moved about the room, setting to brewing the tea. “Medicinal and recreational. Popular.”
“So is cannabis but I don’t see it wandering around the Badlands like a cash crop.” Vernon gave a dry chuckle.
“Cannabis is picky. The poppy is, as you said it yourself, foolhardy.” He took a seat in the formerly occupied chair. “You went through hell. You survived. Opium will take your mind off that trauma.”
“I don’t want it.”
“May I ask why?” Vernon asked. I regarded him quietly.
“Because I know myself, and if I start down that path, I won’t stop.” I replied. “Whatever you can do with herbs, do with herbs and keep the opium out of it.”
“Do you think you could eat?” I shook my head slightly.
“I just want to sleep.” And sleep and sleep and sleep. Sleep until the pain goes away. Vernon nodded.
“That’s to be expected.” He moved again, pouring a cup of the warm steeped tea into a mug and helping me to drink it. I let myself drift after he left, barely registering Quinn coming back in the room to occupy the abandoned chair. He was staying?
This time when I woke, morning light was beginning to stream in through the windows. Sometime in the midst of the night Quinn had apparently laid his arm across the pillows again, and I had apparently taken his hand for my own. None of this was familiar, of course, and he was rather sprawled out in the chair, legs propped up on a footstool and head tipped back... He was asleep? Given the rhythmic breathing, I’d say so.
Why had he stayed? I tentatively studied his hand, calloused no doubt from the blade or his time in the fields. And then my eyes flicked to his bandaged wrist, fingers tracing a line up into his palm when he jerked awake. “Did I do this to you?”
“Mm?” Quinn furrowed his brow, glancing in my direction with a confused look. I traced the rows of the bandage on his wrist.
“Did I do this to you?”
“Mm.” He tipped his head back again. “One of the nomads slipped through my defenses.” That sounded believable, even if it somehow didn’t sit right. “However, you did bite me.” I nearly snorted, burying my face against the pillows. Even in the seriousness of it all, that sounded like something I would do.
“‘M sorry.” I mumbled out.
“You were fighting for your life. You didn’t know who I was.” Quinn replied. “I will not fault you for making a quick decision in the heat of the moment.”
“You came for me?” His eyes flicked to mine. “I don’t remember.”
Bren looked so broken. Shock and surprise and... something else, hidden behind the pain in his eyes. “You are safe here.” Quinn murmured. With me.
#Welcome to the Badlands Series#Whiskey and Cinnamon#Baron Quinn X OMC#cw: mention of drugs#tw: mention of torture#angsty af
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Firestarter
Summary: Bren’s last encounter with Quinn was regarding a drink, but Quinn hasn’t risen to that ante. Bren begins to think about learning how to fight after his hand heals when he lands himself in altercation with Jade... and Quinn shows the ugly truth of being the baron...
Pairing: Baron Quinn X Original Male Character (Bren)
Taglist: @my-fandom-musings
Warnings: Canon-typical Violence
Divider Credit: firefly-graphics
For someone who had bought into the banter, I was surprised that Quinn didn’t show the night or the night after. But maybe my mind was just preoccupied with Nix, and I’d just failed to notice any signs. Yes, this world was dangerous. It wasn’t lost on me, but maybe now it was becoming more real. The fact that nomads were ready to corner them out in the wilds didn’t surprise me, and I wish it could say that it surprised me that they behaved the way they did, but this barony in particularly, whether at its heart or out in the wilds, was still a male dominated world. If nothing else, I would learn how to fight, how to really fight, so that if anyone came after my best friend, I would be able to knock their lights out. She didn’t deserve that; no one did.
“Well now that’s a scowl.” Lydia crossed the room with a glass already in hand, and I found myself broken from my reverie as she poured herself a glass of wine. “You’ve been awfully quiet as of late. Did something happen between you and Quinn?”
“I don’t know what Sunny told him, but he and Nix were attacked by nomad raiders. It’s... unsettling.”
“We don’t usually send people who can’t fight beyond the walls of the Fort. Your friend seems hell bent on that.”
“Wouldn’t you too, if you had to be watched by someone as unnerving as Sunny twenty-four seven?” Lydia chuckled softly. “Honestly I’m surprised he hasn’t put someone on me.”
“Quinn doesn’t like being challenged, verbally or not. He is very good with words when he wants to be, and believe it or not, he is quite the restrained man. I quite think he’s taken aback that you didn’t kill him in the trial by combat. But what reason is there for him to waste a resource on you as close as you stay within the range of his own watch?” Lydia asked.
There was probably some truth to that. I hadn’t tried to go farther than the outer walls of the Fort. Sure, Quinn let me wander but most days I wasn’t in the mood for adventure. I had, however, steadily been working my way through all the books shelved in his office. In fact, I had one now, untouched as I nursed the glass of rum that I had poured myself earlier. She took a seat in the chair across from me, tucking herself into it. “But that doesn’t seem to appease you.”
“I’m just thinking that as soon as my hand heals, I’m going to find someone who can teach me how to fight.”
“Waldo can teach you. He taught me. He stays down in the barracks mostly.”
“I get the sense Quinn has relegated him there.”
“And I get the sense that you don’t give a damn about what Quinn thinks.” I nearly snorted the rum out through my nose. “And you would be right not to, really. Waldo is one of those people that you just don’t underestimate.”
“You have no idea how right you are.” I muttered under my breath, setting the glass aside for a moment, standing and stretching. I hadn’t realized how long I’d been sitting and things were starting to get a little cramped.
It was at that moment that Jade decided to cross the room. Her eyes were red and her cheeks puffy and it was clear that she’d been crying and upset.
“Ah, ah...” Lydia made a tutting sound as Jade reached into the liquor cabinet. “You don’t have that right anymore.”
“I’m the future--”
“Not anymore.” Lydia replied. “Quinn’s word is law, remember?” That could certainly explain why I hadn’t seen him as of late, if he’d finally decided to act on that bit of information. “Stealing will only get you killed. Is that really how you want to go, paraded out in front of the Cogs who were once your family, and then publicly executed?”
“Quinn wouldn’t--”
“You don’t know Quinn just because you managed to weasel your way into his bed.” Lydia remarked.
“You’re a fucking bitch.” Jade muttered. “You play games with people’s lives...”
“I don’t think the Baroness is the one playing a game with people’s lives.” I probably shouldn’t have said it but it was out now regardless, and Jade turned to me as if to regard me in a new light.
“I’m sorry, who are you?”
“Bren, Jade. Jade, Bren. Though I suspect you...”
“I know who she is.” I replied with a nod. “If we had met under any other circumstances, we probably could have been friends.” I moved around her to pluck the bottle of rum from the liquor cabinet, pouring more into my glass.
“Quinn would have your head.” Trying to apply the same logic against me? Smart, but futile.
“He could try.” I replied, taking a sip. “But any chance of us being allies is long gone.”
“Figures that you would side with the Baroness.” Jade remarked slyly. “Though it would be the first time I’ve ever seen one get ballsy enough to slip men into her room with a baron like Quinn.” I chuckled softly, and that seemed to irritate her enough to reach out and grab my wrist. “What do you think Quinn would do to you if I presented you to him as the man who’s been sleeping with his wife?” I looked down to her hand and then back up to her.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree.” I casually switched my glass to my free hand, taking another sip. “I don’t know what you’ll hope to accomplish. It certainly won’t change Quinn’s mind about you.”
“Oh, you are naive about how this game works.”
“Who do you think told him, sweetheart?” I asked. Her hand tightened on my wrist a moment more, shock registering all across her form. I took the rest of the glass in a gulp, tossing the glass into the chair and swinging my hand up, putting my fingers in a sensitive part of her palm and twisting. But it wasn’t long after I had swung her away from me that a fist was flying in my direction. And I stepped into it, knocking her hand away with a block and driving my thumb into a spot beneath her collarbone. Jade actually dropped to the floor, screaming in pain. Oops. It wasn’t really my intention to hurt her; I just didn’t want to be someone’s punching bag for the night.
“What the hell is going on in here?!” I flinched. Oh, I didn’t want to be on the bad side of that voice. Jade looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“He hit me, Quinn!” Great, she really was going to milk it for all it was worth. I gave Quinn a cursory glance and watched his eyes flick down to Jade and then back up to me, and then down to my bandaged hand.
“You could stand to be more creative with the way you lie.” Quinn retorted. “Get out.”
“B-but...” She stammered.
“Sounded damn clear coming out of my mouth, didn’t it?!” If the situation weren’t serious, it might have been intoxicating, but the chill I felt running down my spine wasn’t from anticipation as much as it pressed a heavy weight into my chest. As quickly as she’d gone down, Jade was on her feet, giving Quinn a wary look. Gone were the false tears now, a scowl replacing the hurt look. It was honestly unnerving how quickly she’d changed her tune as she scurried out the door behind Quinn.
Quinn didn’t have words, just pouring himself a glass of whiskey with a rather irritated look. “Did you hit her?” He finally asked, glass halfway to his lips.
“Only because she grabbed me.” His frown deepened for a moment. “But I also instigated that.” That time, he scoffed. “She implied I was sleeping with the Baroness. And wanted to present me to you like some caught quarry in a trap.”
“Are you?”
“Quinn!” Lydia’s shock was palpable.
“Gods no! I mean no offense; you’re a very beautiful lady, but gods no.” Apparently that particular point hadn’t quite made its way across. I shook my head, picking up the glass and the book and taking a seat. The night had been a little more eventful than I had been expecting, but then again, I had a feeling that a lot of the nights in the barony involved some form of drama.
“I want to see you both in my office in the morning.” Quinn murmured, downing his glass and then walking out without another word. I exchanged a glance with Lydia but even she shrugged. Did this little altercation mean that I was in trouble?
The short answer to that was no. I made my way to Quinn’s study in the morning, book tucked diligently under my arm. I moved around Quinn to reshelve it, studying the row of books as if to pick my next quarry. Most of them were books on the history of the barony, crop production, things like that that would be important to a baron.
“Baron.” Sunny’s voice sounded behind me. “Bren.”
“Good morning.” Sunny chuckled softly, offering me a glass as I turned.
“You’re gonna need this. Don’t worry; it’s the good stuff.” I took it, taking one good whiff and nearly choking.
“Jesus fucking Christ. Did you perhaps confuse the words good and strong?” I asked, wrinkling my nose. Quinn hmed quietly, a slight smirk tugging on his lips. “Should I leave?”
“No.” I didn’t get any more answer than that and it wasn’t long that Lydia stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. I knew Quinn didn’t like to be interrupted, but he also never locked it, and she certainly did.
“Am I in trouble?” I had to ask. Nobody was hardly daring to move, to speak, to breathe it felt like, and after last night, I could only assume that I had sealed my fate. But that question went unanswered.
“Sunny.”
“Yes, Baron?”
“I need you to deliver a message for me.”
“Yes, Baron.” The scene was hard to interpret. Sunny’s face never changed, stoic, solemn, even though his voice gave away the change in tone.
“I want Jade clipped.” I blinked.
“You what?” The words tumbled out my mouth before I could hardly stop them which prompted Quinn to look at me.
“I want Jade clipped.” Oh there was no mistaking what he was doing, what he was implying. My mouth tumbled open for a good half minute as I stared at him before I finally found the nerve to shut it again, making an unintentionally audible swallow.
“She... she didn’t hurt me.” I started.
“What makes you think this is about you?” Quinn asked. “She’s a traitor, plain and simple. Come now, you and I both know that revealing whose bed she frequents would end in this result.” So that’s why Sunny had brought me whiskey strong enough to kill a bull. Oh, yes I could see the reasoning behind it; that didn’t mean I agreed with it!
“Is there no other way?”
“Why would I waste the resources to keep her locked up within my barony? She’s just a Cog, but she’s a Cog who knows things, therefore...” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. I certainly got the gist, looking away. The glass of whiskey in my hands was certainly looking more tempting. “Sunny.”
“And the message, Baron?”
“I think you know well enough where I want her head delivered.”
“Yes, Baron.” And with little more than a sympathetic glance in my direction, Sunny had turned on his heel and left. The following sounds and screams and otherwise noises weren’t exactly pleasant and they echoed throughout the house. I ended up sinking to the floor, head tucked between my knees.
“Was that really necessary?” Lydia asked. “Look at the poor boy; he’s green!”
“He’s green alright.” Quinn retorted. “They both are. If they want to live in this world, they’re going to have to start being more help than hindrance.”
“Oh?” I found myself asking. “Oh? Excuse me for having to learn a new environment, for having to learn how to act, how to fight, all just for my own survival. Now actually excuse me,” I plopped the glass of whiskey down a little too hard on the desk, spilling it over the edges, “Because I’m going to fucking throw up.” I bolted for the door, nearly toppling Sunny in the process and actually gagging when the realization caught up to me that he was covered in a spray of blood. The next thing I knew, my head was over a balcony railing and Sunny’s hands were on my shoulders as I heaved into the bushes below.
“You stay there. I’ll be right back.” Sunny sounded resigned and I had no complaints with staying exactly where I was, sagging to the ground in an emotionally exhausted heap. It was too early in the morning to be processing things like this. I wondered if Nix was ok in moments like this, trying to think about anything else to get the image out of my head. Sunny crouched in front of me, cleaned up now, offering me his hand. “Take a walk with me. I know a place where you’ll be safe for a little bit.”
That was how I’d ended up in the Clipper barracks with Waldo hours ago. I don’t... think I remembered how we had ended up there. At the moment, I was curled under a blanket and tucked away in the farthest corner of the cabin while Waldo tended to his birdcages.
“You alright, kid?” Waldo asked.
“Does it get any easier?” My mouth was dry and my eyes burned and I wondered if I’d spent all this time in a hyperventilating sobbing mess in the corner.
“What, living in the barony?” His tone was dry but it was probably an attempt at humor. “Spit it out, kid.”
“Is it better or worse to live with the knowledge that you’ve killed someone... or that you’ve gotten someone killed?”
“Heh.” Waldo turned his wheelchair around to give me a curious look. “You listen to me. Jade made that bed and she laid in it willingly. Whether it was you or Lydia or someone else, her outcome would have been the same no matter who told Quinn. Don’t wear the guilt of her death; it wasn’t your fault.”
“But I--”
“Uh-uh.” Waldo shook his head. “Quinn isn’t a nice baron. No amount of reasoning would have prevented it. Be logical; she was a threat and he simply just eliminated that threat. There are probably things she knew that could have torn this barony apart.”
“By that logic, so do I.” I muttered, huddling a little closer in on myself. Waldo raised an eyebrow slightly.
“Something tells me you got a story to tell, so come have dinner and spit it out.”
“I... doubt you’d believe me.”
“Try me.”
#Welcome to the Badlands Series#Firestarter#Baron Quinn X OMC#Baron Quinn X Bren#cw: canon typical violence
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Dancing With Danger
Summary: Bren and Nix end up falling into the Badlands. One thing has led to another as it is wont to do. In the meantime, Bren has negotiated his way into Quinn’s barony, despite the fact that they seem to despise each other. They play a game of cat and mouse, until Quinn pushes one too many buttons with Bren and ends up with a broken nose...
Pairing: Baron Quinn X Original Male Character (Bren)
POV: First Person (Bren Only)
A/N: What the hell, man? This is what happens when my inner chaos gremlin just sits on the idea button all the time.
Warnings: Injury, Mention of Drug Use
Divider Credit: firefly-graphics
Nix and I found ourselves walking along the road that cut through the barony, trees swaying in a heavy breeze. Likely rain would be making its way here soon. For once, we really had been left alone and unescorted. It wasn’t that Sunny wasn’t good company, but the idea of being hovered over twenty-four seven just wasn’t appealing. It seemed that Quinn had finally wised up and backed off for a good minute.
“Why do I always have to fall for the stubborn ones?” It was mostly under my breath, even though we were long out of hearing range of Quinn and the others.
“Beats the hell out of me. At least with Thranduil I could agree with the looks part.” A small smile edged to my face. Sarcastic to the core. “But he looks like he’ll cool off now.”
“Maybe.” I mused. “Or I’ll get it back later.” It was hard to judge Quinn at times. Yes, I intentionally irritated the hell out of him but he’d never actually raised a hand against me. I suspected that the show he’d put on in the Widow’s barony was just that... a show. Or a bluff, meant to goad her into going to war over us. “It’s what he gets for pushing though. Everyone’s got a breaking point.”
“His problem is he believes everything revolves around him, like he’s the fucking sun.” There was truth to that, but it was more than that too.
“He’s the fucking baron... and he clawed his way up there. He’s just a little too used to living at the top of the food chain. It doesn’t help that... that this is the Badlands. This is the way it probably is in every barony...” For a moment, I considered everything that I could remember since crossing through that damn portal. “Worse actually, for some of them.”
“I’m used to power dynamics like this. I’ve read and watched Game of Thrones. But this world as a whole is foreign to me. And a man like him just makes me think of the Mad King. He better get his act together or it’ll be his downfall.” Nix murmured.
“More or less, he’ll get his act together or it’ll kill him. From what I gather, we haven’t landed in any part of the timeline I know about, and for all we know, we’ve already changed fate. Maybe we shouldn’t...” I started, taking in a deep breath. My heart was still racing and pain was beginning to settle into my hand. Sensitive spot or not, punching a man of Quinn’s stature wasn’t something I’d recommend.
“Maybe we shouldn’t... but it’s Quinn?”
“Yes, he’s insensitive and an asshole and a bastard-- an attractive bastard-- but a bastard nonetheless, and he’s hardly the worst baron out there. Oh, I’ve no doubt that he can be cruel, but so can any of them. It’s dog-eat-dog out here in the Badlands. We weren’t any safer with Minerva than we are with Quinn. She’s a smart lady...”
“But you don’t trust her.” There was a commotion behind us and I turned to the side to see two black horses barreling towards us.
“Great.” If I could roll my eyes any harder, I’d be looking at my own brain. I wish I could say that it was a surprise to see Quinn and Sunny on the back of those horses but at this point, I doubted anything would get through his head.
“Ride out with me!” Quinn pulled his horse to a stop, offering me his hand.
“I beg your pardon?” I asked, eyebrows raised.
“You broke my nose, you fucking bastard, and you broke your hand doing it. Ride out with me.” Genuine concern? That was touching. I narrowed my eyes in his direction, trying to gauge his intentions. Against some measure of better judgement, I offered him the non injured hand, using the stirrup to pull myself up against his horse.
“Good luck.” Nix offered, giving me a look that I knew all too well.
“I think we’re beyond luck. I think I need a drink at this point.” I replied, knotting my free hand in Quinn’s jacket.
“Hey!” Quinn turned to that one, short of urging his horse into a run. “If you hurt him...” The threat carried weight; even Quinn couldn’t be immune to that. But he gave her no reply, urging his horse on.
The cape cod cottage wasn’t unfamiliar, but I still had to give Quinn some pretense that I didn’t have any idea where he’d brought me. To be honest, it was probably better to familiarize myself with my surroundings. We had no idea what we had changed just by being here, let alone how any information I may have accidentally divulged to Quinn was going to affect the future. It had been a gamble, a non-profitable gamble; I would be sure to watch my words more closely in the future. I landed on my feet, taking a moment to catch my breath; at that point I wasn’t sure if it was the remnants of adrenaline or just nerves as I followed him up to the porch.
“Baron.”
“Hannah. Hope I’m not interrupting anything.” God, he really could be charming, couldn’t he? It was almost unnerving.
“You never are.” Hannah replied. “Come in.” I followed in his shadow, watching, waiting, listening.
“What can I do for y-- good lord!” Vernon eyed Quinn down. “You have any other injuries I should know about?” Quinn stepped aside, for what I assumed was to reveal me, and I offered him the broken hand. His eyes flicked from my hand to Quinn’s face and then back down to my hand. “I have to assume you’re his Colt.”
“I woulda clipped a Colt.” Quinn muttered.
“And between you and me, I think I’m a little too old to be someone’s Colt.” I replied.
“Mind if I take X-rays?” I shrugged.
“Be my guest.” While Vernon busied himself with making the necessary preparations, I turned to find Quinn had already made himself comfortable in a chair. “If I had to hazard a guess, it’s not the first time someone’s broken your nose.” His look was only mildly irritated at best.
“First time someone’s had the balls to do it since I’ve been the baron.” Quinn replied.
“You know, I...” I took a split second to think about whether this was the right thing to do before the compassionate side won out. I crossed the room in a heartbeat, grabbing a towel and running it beneath cold water, wringing it out and pressing it against an already bruised face. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”
“Really?” His tone gave away that he didn’t believe me. “You move awful fast for someone who’s never done anything like that before.”
“I mean,” I started, not daring to look him in the eyes and just focusing for a minute. “I trained in a martial arts form when I was a child, but that was a long time ago.”
“Clearly, some things stuck.”
“Clearly not, or I wouldn’t have a broken hand.” Quinn huffed out a quiet laugh.
“You don’t have to do this. The doc will take care of me as soon as he finishes sorting you out.”
“I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.” I replied. “Pretty much a bleeding heart and a hell of a temper.” I was saved from the inevitable questions by Vernon borrowing me to take an x-ray of my hand.
“That would be a... that would be a boxer’s fracture.” Vernon murmured. “And this is going to hurt. Can I get you anything?”
“No!” I swear my voice went up an octave as he realigned the bone and splinted my hand. “You... mmm...” Half a dozen choice words were on the tip of my tongue, but all of them were varying degrees of insult.
“Do you not feel the pain?” Quinn asked. “I’ve seen battle hardened Clippers whine over a broken hand. It’s a debilitating injury for a soldier.”
“I...” Yeah, it hurt like the dickens but I wasn’t about to tell him that. “But I’m not a soldier, this isn’t the first bone I’ve broken, and...”
“And what is more concerning is that your heart rate has yet to come down.” Vernon murmured.
“You can treat the baron; it’s not gonna come down.” I replied, shaking my head, hopping off the table and into the formerly occupied chair as Quinn moved across the room, still clutching the towel against his face.
“You’re trained in medicine?” Vernon asked.
“I don’t... have any schooling in it, if that’s what you’re asking. Just bits and pieces here and there.”
“He’s unfortunately right in his line of treatment. It’s not a nasty break, at least. Cold compresses up to four times a day, and take what you need for the pain.” Vernon turned. “The same to you actually.”
“The same what?”
“Take what you need for the pain.”
“Take what?” Vernon actually blinked for a minute.
“You’re... really sitting in the barony of opium...”
“Do you have anything else?” I asked.
“Let me check.” The tone wasn’t promising as he disappeared into a back room and I took a moment to sit up.
“Get an X-ray done while you’re here.” I hissed between my teeth. Quinn opened one eye warily.
“You were misinformed. Let it go.”
“This is my favor that I’m calling in. Get an X-ray done while you’re here.”
“I’m fine!” Quinn’s voice was laced with irritation.
“Please.” That time he did look up.
“Fine. But why do you care so much?”
“I don’t have anything else that I would recommend taking.” Vernon saved me from answering that difficult question. “The opium will take the edge off your pain.”
“I... I’ll manage.” I muttered. I wasn’t about to go down that route, not if it could be avoided.
“Most people would kill to get their hands on a brick of my opium.” Quinn replied. “Bren here thinks I should get an X-ray. He seems to think I’m dying.”
“An X-ray of what?”
“Of his skull.” I answered.
“What do you think you’ll see?” Vernon asked. I shrugged.
“I’m not the doctor here.”
“No, you’re not...”
“Do it anyways.” Quinn murmured. “I’m curious now.”
Vernon’s poker face was really less than ideal. He stood, arms folded across his chest as he stared at the X-ray hanging up against the light. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“I take it that spot isn’t supposed to be there.” Quinn murmured lowly.
“I don’t... I don’t know that I’ve seen anything like it, to be honest with you. You haven’t had any symptoms, any pain, headaches, auras, anything like that?”
“It would be news to me.” Vernon turned to me.
“How did you know, and what do you think it is?”
“Me?” It came out as an undignified squeak. “Did we not just establish that I’m not a doctor?”
“But you knew about it.” Vernon persisted.
“It’s complicated. And it’s a tumor.”
“I will have to consult my textbooks. It certainly could be a tumor. It definitely is a mass and it definitely does need to be monitored. But... I’m afraid my hands are tied until something new develops.” His eyes flicked to me and then back to Quinn. “I don’t know where you found him but you might want to keep him because it seems to me like he’s got some good instincts.”
“Night’s getting late. Sure you won’t stay for dinner, Baron?” Hannah asked. “And...?”
“Oh, my name is Bren.” I supplemented. “Hannah, right? It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
“Oh so you do have manners.” Goddamn that infuriating man. I turned my head to the side to look back at Quinn, arching an eyebrow slightly.
“I was raised in the South, sweetheart. Southeast coast, to be specific. If there’s one thing I learned in that kind of culture, it’s that Southerners are generally nice folk, genteel, kind even. At least until you piss them off, at which point they become hellfire personified.”
“Oh I’m quaking.”
“There are other ways to make a man quake in his boots...” Right... no filter and no Nix to remind me that there are things you probably shouldn’t say in good company. Quinn just stared. I think after everything I had said, that one probably hit him in the face like a brick. “Thanks for offering dinner but I... think I need to clear my head.” And I quickly made an escape to the porch, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly as I took the steps down.
“You owe me an explanation!” Quinn followed in short pursuit.
“Buy me a drink first, for fucks’ sake!”
“Pick your poison; I’ll send Sunny in the morning to pick it up.” I admit, I stopped short at Quinn’s horse.
“A bottle of rum.”
“Done.” Quinn swung himself up to the back of his mount, taking my hand and pulling me up behind him. I... didn’t quite think that this would be any outcome. Maybe it was foolish, even entertaining this possibility... and entertaining the idea of Quinn was dangerous. But I knew my heart was already invested.
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Warbringer
To my enablers: @harper-emory-writes and @my-fandom-musings
I raise you this question-- which scene do you like better?
18+ CONTENT UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DNI.
Scene A:
“Oh, you’ll be marked by the end of the night.” Quinn growled, feeling Leoric twitch against him, untempered arousal rising.
“Fuck me.”
“Oh, I have every intent to.” Quinn bit another bruise into Leoric’s neck to be rewarded with a sharp jerk of Leoric’s hips.
“Baron!” Oh, was that spot sensitive? Quinn ran his tongue over the mottled flesh, already beginning to bruise, and Leoric whimpered beneath him, bucking into him.
Quinn pressed his hand into Leoric’s thigh, squeezing sharply. “You’d better settle down or you won’t be getting anything tonight.”
Scene B:
Leoric’s hand grabbed the back of Quinn’s calf and squeezed and Quinn followed the stimulus until he was sloppy fucking Leoric’s throat, until the man in front of him was a mess, teary-eyed and drooling around Quinn’s cock. Just the sight alone had him ready to come. But he wasn’t done yet, pulling out and wrapping his hand around his cock, stroking himself until he was close. Despite Quinn’s hand on the back of his head, Leoric followed his cock willingly, lips pressed to the head of his cock, and when Quinn’s hand tightened in his hair, mouth open, tongue taking the dripping pre-cum.
“Who owns you?” Quinn asked. Leoric keened for a moment, quiet but needy.
“You do, Baron.” Leoric whispered.
or Scene C:
“Quinn.” Leoric’s whisper was soft, almost disbelieving, as he struggled to sit up, ultimately the resounding thump against the back of his eyes pushing him back down. “Quinn.” It was a whimper, a cry of want and need and he was rewarded with the warmth of a body pressing against his own. When Quinn had moved, Leoric had no idea; the room was spinning, the storm muddling together as the opium began to take effect on his already addled mind. There were lips on his, a tongue coaxing itself into his mouth and a hand at his back, pulling him flush against a broad chest. Unbridled heat seared across him as he responded in kind, hand finding Quinn’s shoulder and fingers digging in to keep Quinn rooted to him.
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Warbringer Masterpost
SUMMARY: A healer who disdains killing... knows how to poison whoever gets in his way. A man who sits behind a steel wall... is still a shadow who moves in a town. The fighter who only fights to protect others is the one who will bring war to the Badlands...
PAIRING(S): Baron Quinn X Original Male Character
TAGS: Canon Divergent, Canon-typical Violence (Blood, Injury), Greco-Roman Mythology, FTM Character, NSFW/18+ CONTENT (Dubious Consent, Consensual Non-Consent, Voyeurism, Mild Bondage, Drug Use)
WARNINGS: MINORS DNI
CHAPTERS:
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 (18+) | Part 7 | Part 8 |
Part 9 (18+) | Part 10 | Part 11 (18+) | Part 12 | Part 13 (18+) | Part 14 (18+) |
Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 |
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