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whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk · 6 months

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Semper Eadem (iv, ao3)

Chapter four: In the aftermath of the jousting match, Elizabeth and her court go hunting, where Cassian has conspired to get Nesta alone.

(chapter one // chapter two // chapter three)

Nesta wasn’t thinking of the joust.

As the morning after dawned bright and clear, full of promise and expectation, she swore to God and all the old saints above that her mind would not stray to yesterday. She willed resolution in her chest, begged for strength, and as the sky lightened beyond the lead-paned windows of the Queen’s chamber, she focused instead on dressing her mistress. She refused to remember the tiltyard beyond those stone walls— kept her thoughts far from that bastard-born son of a nobleman who had so decidedly won command of her heart, like it were just another treasure he had plundered.

Obstinate, she clenched her jaw.

No.

By almighty God, she was not thinking about it.

Around her, the ladies of the royal household tittered and laughed, the soft sounds of shifting fabric filling the chamber as Nesta tied the ribbons on the Queen’s kirtle. A steady thrum of excitement hung heavy in the air, so thick it was palpable, and beyond the glass, not a single cloud marred the blue of the August sky.

There was to be a hunt, today.

A column of bright golden sunlight blazed through the chamber as the Queen angled a small Venetian mirror, its gilded frame heavy in one lithe hand as she tilted the glass to better glimpse her reflection. Her Tudor-red hair was afire in the morning light, her painted skin as pale as chalk, and glimmering she stood in the centre of her rooms, bedecked in so much wealth it was nigh on incalculable. Assessing, the sovereign let out a single contented hum.

What she saw pleased her.

And Nesta did not disagree— the dress alone could rival the work of the great Italian masters.

The fabric was light in colour, a pale cream with embroidered roses and vines picked out in such detail it was almost enough to stun. A threaded thistle sat above the Queen’s ribs, and on her left sleeve a large needlework snake was coiled, studded with pearls and gems, and from its mouth dangled a small ruby charm— heart shaped, and surrounded by golden thread, silver cloth, and shining, opalescent pearls.

The snake was Nesta’s favourite part of this particular dress.

An emerald no bigger than a fingernail served as the serpent’s eye, and its tongue was rendered in a line of golden thread darting from between embroidered silver teeth to hold that small ruby heart. A symbol of wisdom and cunning, the snake was everything that Elizabeth represented, everything she valued, and the message wasn’t lost on Nesta as she circled the Queen and brushed a hand over the jewels that made up the serpent’s curled and curving tail.

Her sovereign was as slippery and as dangerous as an adder, one that had used the sharp edges of her diamonds to carve a space of her own in a world shaped for the pleasures of men.

And that ought to have been distraction enough, but no matter how many times Nesta hauled herself back to the present…

Her dastardly eyes wandered to the window, and despite the promises she’d made to the Lord above, she damned her soul when she caught sight of the tiltyard beyond the glass, where a privateer had competed for her honourand—

“Are you looking forward to the hunt, your majesty?”

Nesta tried to not startle as Blanche, the Keeper of Her Majesty’s Jewels, stepped forward and voiced her question, bearing in her hands an oak jewellery box with the lid lifted open. Inside, nestled in velvet, lay a staggering number of pearls and jewels and gems, shining in every colour.

Elizabeth was silent a moment, handing off her mirror to another of her ladies as her fingers trailed idle over the priceless objects before her, hovering above diamonds and sapphires and emeralds and rubies. Before she answered, she plucked up a ring set with a large ruby and extended it out, holding it towards Nesta in one smooth movement.

“Ah,” she said breezily, waving her hand, and as the sunlight refracted off the myriad jewels scattered across the fabric of her dress, shards of red and silver light danced across the floorboards, “you know that I do so love to hunt.”

The Queen extended a hand as she spoke, and Nesta slid the ring the sovereign had chosen onto her waiting finger. Another of her ladies draped a necklace of pearls around her neck, and if for one brief moment they reminded Nesta of the pearl that hung customarily from Cassian’s ear…

She forced the thought away, and focused on straightening the Queen’s sleeve, her eyes returning to the snake.

But it’s spine was a line of more pearls— to symbolise wealth and purity, virginity, and it shouldn’t have reminded her of Cassian, of the one set in gold that shone amidst his dark curls. After all, Cassian could lay claim to neither wealth nor virginity, and yet the one he wore was a symbol nonetheless. Nesta brushed her hand over the Queen’s sleeve, and thought that perhaps his pearl was instead a symbol of something precious, something rare. Something plucked from the ocean and brought home to treasure.

Oh, the joust had softened her.

That was for certain.

Her conviction had already been wavering when she’d read Cassian’s letters, and seeing him race down the tiltyard yesterday had all but secured his forgiveness. The flames of her anger had burned away to nothing, and now when she thought of him—

She heard his laugh, saw his rakish smile, and felt her heart beat a little faster inside her chest. Like she were a witless maiden, borne of nothing but dreams and naïveté; like she hadn’t spent years at the royal court, growing as used to politicking as she was breathing. Cassian had made her yearn for real romance again, the way she had once as a girl, when her father had told her of Arthur and Guinevere, of Tristan and Isolde, and all those famous tales that made her heart swell. Oh, after years of ruthless pragmatism and the endless facade of courtly love, she thought her desire for the real thing had been stifled, strangled, but it had resurfaced now, more fervent than ever before. And when he’d bowed before her in the tiltyard, his helm cast aside and his face aglow with triumph…

Her hand fell away from the serpent on the Queen’s arm.

God— she needed to focus.

She pulled her awareness back in time to hear Blanche ask of Elizabeth,

“Will the Earl of Leicester be your hunting partner?”

Nesta paused.

It was a bold question— so bold that if anybody but the most favoured of her ladies had asked it, the Queen might have found reason to divorce a head from some shoulders. After all, they had all of them heard the rumours. Leicester and the Queen had been close friends since childhood— and there were whispers that perhaps it was once more than friendship, and might someday be something more again, if Leicester got his way. He had organised this entire pageant in the Queen’s honour, a gesture far grander than any he could reasonably have been expected to lay at his Queen’s feet. But as Nesta looked up, half expecting to find fury in the lines of the Queen’s face, instead she found her monarch’s mouth pulling into a coy smile, one that said Elizabeth would allow the question.

“I think perhaps he shall,” she answered.

Nesta remained silent, only rounded the Queen to stand before her. She assessed the dress, the jewels, straightening the pearl necklace that twice circled her throat before hanging down to her navel. Elizabeth merely tilted her head in the wake of Nesta’s ministrations, causing the lace of her ruff to tremble.

“And what of you, Mistress Archeron?” she asked. “Who shall be your partner?”

Nesta did not blink, did not pause, did not hesitate.

“Who should you like it to be, your majesty?” she asked, tilting her head in an echo of the monarch’s stance. Approval glimmered in Elizabeth’s eyes, a rare jewel of its own.

“Northumberland, perhaps?” the Queen ventured. “Master Vanserra seemed most determined to compete for your honour yesterday.”

Nesta’s mind flicked back once more to the joust - her soul be damned - and to the way Cassian had almost killed Eris in the tiltyard. As if the Queen could read her mind, Elizabeth snorted and said, smoothly,

“Or Master Cassian?” She tapped Nesta on the wrist with one long, thin finger. “My handsome Bat seems to have an eye on you, dove.”

Nesta forced herself to shrug.

“Perhaps he does, majesty.”

She fought a smile, and Elizabeth hummed. Mirth danced at the corners of her lips, and even though she didn’t approve of her ladies marrying, something about the joust yesterday had humoured her. Perhaps it was the way Cassian had bowed to his Queen, or the way he had cast off his helm and looked up to the stands in such a perfect display of chivalry that Nesta half thought he might have plucked it from the pages of some Arthurian romance. Either way, something had snared the Queen’s attention, but Nesta was not fool enough to say anything more. She merely took a single step back and bowed her head as the Queen smoothed a hand down her skirts one final time.

“Well,” she said, her tone one of musing. “Perhaps we shall see.”

A moment later the Queen clapped her hands, the sound sharp and cutting in the silence of her chambers. As the rest of her ladies waited for instruction, Elizabeth looked the window and allowed another serpentine smile to grace her lips. Her eyes were lit with purpose as she lifted her chin and said, with all the authority and determination only a monarch could muster,

“Let us hunt.”

***

It seemed, Nesta thought from atop her horse a half hour later, that all of England had descended upon Warwickshire to bask in the majesty of the Queen.

Riding two or three abreast in a great train behind Elizabeth, the hunting party stretched across the grounds all the way back towards the castle— all noblemen and horses, ladies and squires and hunting dogs. Trumpeters and drummers followed too, and a host of staff from the kitchens carried the baskets containing the food they would lay out at noon for dinner. Sheaths of arrows were slung across backs, crossbows stowed in saddlebags, and the drumming mirrored the footfalls of the horses as beyond the castle walls, Kenilworth’s expansive lawns began to slope before eventually giving way to lush woodland.

Grand— it was all so immeasurably grand.

Ahead, the Queen’s standard fluttered in the breeze, held aloft by a standard bearer, the embroidered lion shining golden beneath the morning sun. All the trappings of royalty gleamed— the richness of the Queen’s dress, the pearls that had been threaded through her hair; a glimmering vanguard as the trees of the forest grew closer. And at Elizabeth’s right, just as Blanche had suspected, rode the earl of Leicester.

As casually and as easily as if it were the only place in the world that suited him, Robert Dudley filled the space at the sovereign’s side, and their heads were inclined towards one another as they spoke, their horses so close their flanks almost touched. The breeze carried behind them the sound of Elizabeth’s laughter, and as Leicester glanced sideways at his Queen, Nesta saw a flash of teeth, a wide smile beneath the brim of his hat, and she knew with unerring certainty that the earl was in love— so desperately and madly in love that it warranted all of this display, all of this pageantry.

And the reminder that all of this grandeur was on the behalf of a man simply trying to turn a woman’s head…

Well, it was foolish perhaps, and more than a touch sentimental, but… charming, too.

And after all, hadn’t Cassian done something similar yesterday— something just as foolish? When he’d all but declared war on Eris, one of the richest dukes in England, because he had dared to ask her for her favour?

She shook her head, pushed the thought away, and kept her gaze straight ahead.

On the Queen’s left was Rhysand, riding silent and all but ignored. His heavy chain of office was draped over his shoulders, and the gold was bright against the deep black of his doublet. He wore a cap with a raven feather at the top too, and though from her position behind him she could not see his face, she could see his hands gripping the reins of his horse— could see, too, his velvet gloves, and the three rings he wore atop his gloves on each hand. His shoulders were stiff, and Nesta smirked.

If there was one thing Lord Rhysand did not appreciate, it was being overlooked, and with Leicester by her side, the Queen had no attention to spare for her dark-haired councillor.

The sight should not have made Nesta as smug as it did.

On Nesta’s own left rode Madge, another of the Queen’s ladies. At their backs was the Duke of Northumberland and one of his many brothers, and Nesta did not think it a coincidence that he had managed to secure such a spot in the procession trailing behind the Queen. Indeed, as she had stood in the courtyard and mounted her horse, Eris had offered her his hand, and though Nesta had not accepted his assistance, he had bowed his head anyway, before taking her own hand and placing a fleeting kiss to the back of her fingers.

She had never been so thankful to have been wearing riding gloves.

Beside her Madge was silent, as if she could tell that her riding partner was entirely preoccupied with her own thoughts. A frown almost creased Nesta’s brow, and she almost considered striking up conversation, but then her eyes fell to her gloved hands tight on her reins, and all she could think was—

I hope Cassian did not bear witness to that ridiculous kiss.

It was a thought as ridiculous in itself as the kiss Eris that had dropped on her hand, but one that persisted nonetheless. So consumed was she by it that the world and all its noise seemed to fade away, until—

“Mistress Radcliffe,” a smooth and all too familiar voice said easily from the empty space at Nesta’s right. Her heart kicked in answer as Madge turned her head, eyebrows rising as she beheld who addressed her. “My lord Azriel asks for you. He wishes to give you news of your brother in Ireland before the hunt begins.”

Cassian did not let his eyes stray to Nesta as he bowed his head; a vision of courtesy.

Madge smiled wide. It was no secret that she missed her brother, sent over to Ireland on the Queen’s orders. A lady from the north, she missed her family greatly, and it was no surprise to Nesta when she nodded her head and gave her thanks before turning around and leading her horse back along the procession that trailed them, to the space about four riders back, where the Queen’s spy had been riding beside the privateer and now sat alone.

Nesta looked behind as Cassian’s horse fell into step behind her. Quietly, she thought she heard Northumberland curse.

“Lady Nesta,” Cassian said in greeting, his voice light and airy as if this were the most ordinary of meetings.

But— merciful God, have pity on her soul.

Would she ever tire of the way her name sounded on his lips? Or the way he imbued it with something that felt like intimacy somehow? Lady Nesta, not Mistress Archeron. She thought back to his letters, how he’d penned her name with such an elaborate flourish. Even on a rocking ship, when ink and time were short for him, he’d written her name like it meant something. She glanced sidelong at him, trying to focus on the rhythm of the horse beneath her, the gentle trot of the hooves. But one look and she was at sea all over again, her sentimentality like a storm that threatened to send her under.

His doublet was the deep red of Burgundian wine, shot through with silver buttons in the centre of his broad chest, and for one foolish and ill-advised moment Nesta let her eyes wander, following that path of silver to where his doublet met his breeches.

God have pity, indeed.

Seated atop his horse, the privateer beside her cleared his throat and Nesta hauled her gaze back up— to a level far more befitting a lady of the Queen’s household. She took in, instead, the slashed sleeves of his doublet that split to reveal a crisp white shirt sitting beneath, and the dark cloak draped effortlessly over his shoulders. A delicate ruff rose from his collar and just barely grazed the edge of his jaw, and oh, lord— this man was beautiful. A velvet bonnet was balanced at a damn near rakish angle atop his curls, and as he brought his stallion into a trot beside her, the feather adorning it shivered in the breeze.

Beneath his unflinching gaze, and despite the heat, Nesta felt herself shiver too.

“Feeling cold, my lady?”

Damn him.

She cleared her throat, and refused to take note of the way several of those curls escaped his bonnet and lay tangled above his ruff, right against the bare skin of his neck.

“Master Cassian,” she said mildly, looking decidedly straight ahead to where the Queen and Leicester still spoke together in low murmurs. “Can I help you?”

He grinned. “Back to Master, are we?”

“Would you have me call you something else?”

“Oh sweetheart,” he said, dropping his voice so low it was almost sinful, “I’d have you call me several things.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and tried to force down the blood that rose to her cheeks.

“You are incorrigible.”

“Indeed,” he said brightly, tipping his head back and inhaling deeply, drawing the summer air deep into his lungs. He tightened his grip on the reins, his gloved hands pulling as the riders ahead of them began to slow— as the line of trees at the forest edge grew nearer still.

And Nesta thought she must have lost her mind, because when she looked at those gloves, for a moment she found herself mourning the fact that she could not see the bare skin of his hands as his fist tightened.

“Tell me— did my lord Azriel really wish to speak with Madge?”

Sidelong, Cassian smirked.

“In truth, no,” he said with an easy shrug. “But it is no lie that he received reports from Ireland this morning. It is entirely possible there was something about Mistress Radcliffe’s brother in there.” He shot her a grin, before adding brightly, “I merely thought to join your hunting party, if you’ll have me.”

“I fear I am not much of a hunter,” Nesta answered with a shrug of her own, a slow lift of one shoulder. “My sister was always far better at it than I.”

He shot her a dazzling smile, one edged with mischief. “And yet I am certain we can find some creature for you to bring down.” He glanced behind him, to Eris and his brother. “A fox, perhaps.”

“Perhaps the fox was brought low enough already after yesterday’s joust.”

“The fox remains presumptuous,” Cassian shrugged. His gaze dropped, eyes turning flat as they alighted briefly on her hand, and Nesta’s heart sank a little as she realised that yes, Cassian had indeed witnessed that ridiculous little kiss. “He still thinks to take what is mine.”

“Yours?” Nesta asked incredulously, glancing once over her shoulder, ensuring Eris was still too lost in his own conversation to overhear. Looking ahead, she saw with thanks that the Queen was still too preoccupied to take note, too. “After such a long time away?”

Cassian lifted one hand from the reins and waved it. Like Rhysand, he too had rings decorating his fingers above the velvet, and they gleamed now, the gold bright.

“I thought we’d been over this, sweetheart?”

She blinked, imperious. “You’ve been over this, sir. As far as I recall, I said little on the matter.”

He snorted. “You said much,” he countered simply. “You’ve had me grovelling for days.”

“Grovelling?” she raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t mask the smile that began to spread across her face. “I haven’t seen you on your knees once.”

His eyes darkened. “And is that what it will take, my lady?” He tilted his head, the pearl in his ear brushing the lace of the ruff that peeked from the neck of his doublet. “For my forgiveness, you would have me on my knees?”

She was silent for a moment, and a wicked smirk curved his lips.

“Trust me, love, I am more than willing.”

Her breath caught, her blood raced. His meaning was obvious, and with the way that smirk turned almost devilish, she knew that the blush that rose to her cheeks had amused him— pleased him. Her treacherous heart beat a little faster - a lot faster - and she was about to reproach him for daring to speak so boldly in the presence of a lady of the royal household, but—

The horns sounded, and the dogs began to bark, and the party at last reached the tree line. With a wave of the Queen’s hand, lifted into the air, every one of them fell silent.

Cassian pressed a gloved finger to his lips and winked, and Nesta was so momentarily undone by the gesture that she almost set her horse into a straight gallop. She pulled hard on the reins, knuckles straining above the leather, and when she turned, she saw laughter dancing in those damned eyes.

She tore her gaze away, focusing forwards— on Rhysand and the Queen and Leicester.

Slowly they made their way beneath the cover of the trees, delving farther and father into the woodland. The sound grew muffled, the heavy canopy above cloaking the rest of the world from view, and all around them was birdsong and the snap of breaking branches as the great trail of courtiers and servants began to split into smaller groups.

It would have been impossible for the entire party to have remained unnoticed by their quarry, and so— in groups no larger than a dozen, the entire court slipped away, and as Nesta looked over her shoulder when the initial flurry of activity died down, she found nobody behind them now, only the greenery of the forest and the birds in the trees above.

The Queen’s personal hunting party had narrowed, leaving only Elizabeth and Leicester, flanked by Rhysand and two more ladies-in-waiting. Madge and Azriel had joined them too, along with one more member of the Queen’s council. Nesta and Cassian brought the total to ten.

Leicester retrieved a crossbow from his saddlebag, and handed it across the distance to his Queen. Elizabeth grinned.

A hush had fallen, and ahead Rhysand looked over his shoulder and scanned the members of the small group. Catching Cassian’s eye, he seemed to give an exasperated sigh before rolling his eyes and giving the privateer one brief, sharp, nod. Nesta did not much understand the silent and secret language Cassian seemed to share with his brother in arms, but it did not take a master codebreaker to decipher that particular message.

Alright, that nod seemed to say. I’ll do as you ask.

In answer, Cassian grinned.

And as Azriel manoeuvred his horse around them, leaving Nesta and Cassian at the back of the assembly, Rhysand pointed between the dense copse of trees ahead, where the light above was dim and the forest pressed in on all sides.

“There!” he said loudly, his voice startling the birds nesting in the nearest tree. “Over there, your majesty!”

Elizabeth whipped her head to the side, sharp eyes assessing the direction Rhysand’s finger still pointed. Before Nesta could blink, the Queen’s smile had widened, the hunt upon her, and she kicked in her heels and sent her horse barrelling through the trees— at a speed so reckless her other councillor cursed soundly before setting his horse to follow.

Rhysand’s black stallion charged ahead, but before Nesta could urge her own mare forwards, another hand gripped her reins.

Cassian held tight, and as the rest of the hunting party darted quickly between the trees, Cassian inclined his head to the side, nodding in the other direction. His smile grew as the sound of the racing horses faded, and when he let go of the reins at last, he did not retract his hand. Instead, he extended it further, turned his palm to the sky. A silent offer, unspoken question.

Come with me, that hand said.

And Nesta knew it was a bad idea to follow him through the wood.

Knew it was reckless, to go off with him alone.

Her reputation could end up in tatters. She could lose her position in the Queen’s household.

And yet…

His smile was somehow sweet and devilish at the same time, simultaneously the most beautiful thing she had ever seen and the harbinger of her own ruin.

She should have said no.

But God save her…

She didn’t.

Instead, she placed her hand in his, feeling her heart kick as his fingers folded over her own. He drew her closer, until he could lift her hand to his mouth, and without looking away, he kissed the glove above her knuckles. She fought a shiver, and though earlier when Eris had kissed her hand she had thanked the Lord for riding gloves, now she cursed them— abhorred them.

She felt the warmth of his hand sinking through her gloves, and oh, she only wished she could feel his touch against her bare skin, feel the smoothness of his kiss as the trees hid them from view.

At last he blinked, breaking his gaze and flicking his eyes down to the fingers he still had pressed against his lips.

A moment, an age, or a heartbeat later, he let her hand drop. And before Nesta had time to collect herself, Cassian dug in his heels and sent his horse through the trees, looking back over his shoulder, as if unwilling to draw his eyes away.

And when they were alone, with only the two of them riding almost silently, slowly, through the density of the trees, she dared to look at him again as he adjusted the crossbow that now sat across his lap, though neither of them seemed really intent on hunting anything at all.

For a long time, there was silence— as if they were both of them afraid of being overheard. The air between them shifted, growing softer, as if the quiet gave rise to vulnerability. Suddenly, there were a thousand things Nesta wanted to say, a thousand words drifting to her lips, but in truth, she had no real idea of where or how to begin. Instead she watched the forest ahead of her, studied the way the leaves above swallowed the light, and let the silence stretch. And stretch, and stretch, and stretch, until—

At last, the privateer broke it.

“You said you wanted me on my knees,” he began softly. “But what else do I need do to prove myself to you?”

He looked at her imploringly, the rogue cast aside, and Nesta’s heart suddenly began to strain, each beat laboured. Nothing— she knew she ought to tell him nothing, because no matter how much she wanted it, how much desire she carried, how could this ever end well between them?

Cassian studied her face.

“Do I need to sail to a distant land and claim it in your honour? Name a settlement after you? Bring you back a ream of treasure?”

She was silent, and his eyes were lined with a wealth of desperation that gave the lie to his bravado.

“Or shall I cast off my cloak before you and lay it over puddles, so your silk slippers may never touch the ground? Or—“

Nesta shook her head, and when she opened her mouth, his voice died to make way for hers. But her words grew tangled in her throat, and she hesitated— even though she never hesitated. She closed her mouth and sighed once more, and atop his horse Cassian smiled a little sadly, with so much longing her own heart ached, and when she looked at him…

Oh, he was the road her heart begged her to travel, even though it was one she knew in all good sense she wouldn’t be able to see through to its end. What was the point in letting herself fall, only to be hurt again when he left? Or when her father succeeded in tying her to some wealthy duke— if not Northumberland, then some other who came along? What was the point in any of it?

Love, a small and starving part of her whispered. The love the poets write about, the kind the troubadours sing about. The kind that makes you feel the way you do now, ready to cast off the world and find home in the arms of this one man.

As if he could see her battling with herself, Cassian drew his horse closer to hers— so close she could almost feel his warmth.

“You should know,” he said quietly, and whether the whisper in his voice was because of the need to stay hidden or the vulnerability of his words, she wasn’t sure, “that your letters were a greater treasure to me than anything I could take or steal from any ship on the high seas. Greater to me than any ransom any king could demand.”

A heartbeat passed, one where her heart seemed to thud so loudly in her chest that she feared the flock of deer they were pretending to hunt might hear it and flee.

Charming— did he always have to be so damned charming?

And God— would it be so bad, to tell him that he already had her forgiveness? Would it be so terrible, to tell him that despite it all she was his, if not in body but in mind and soul at least?

She was speechless for a moment, and he managed a weak sort of grin at her evident surprise.

And then—

The trees thinned, and a clearing lay spread before them, golden sunlight pooling in the centre like a small slice of Arcadia. Cassian sniffed a little, like the long grass and the wildflowers had irritated his nose, but still— there was beauty in that clearing, unspoiled and harmonious.

And— a doe.

A doe stood frozen in the middle, her ears pinned back as she caught sight of the approaching horses. The sunlight dappled across her white-spotted back, and as she slowly lifted one slim leg, ready to bolt, Nesta’s eyes drifted to the crossbow in Cassian’s lap.

She prayed he wouldn’t shoot.

But Cassian’s hand didn’t so much as twitch towards the weapon, as if he couldn’t find it in himself to hunt the creature either.

Yet on the other side of the clearing— there was the flash of auburn, the glint of an arrow.

Nesta’s heart lurched, and whether by design or divine intervention, beneath the hooves of Cassian’s horse a branch cleaved with a crack.

Readily, the deer bolted.

A curse sounded from the trees, where only a moment ago an arrow had been knocked and drawn, ready to be loosed.

“Privateer.” A snarling voice drifted from the tree line, sharp and cutting, and Nesta recognised it immediately— saw the auburn hair like burnished bronze as Eris came into view. “You just cost me my prize.”

The duke pointed to where the deer had escaped between the trees, and though the rest of his companions remained in the shadow of the forest, she thought she could make out a handful of their faces, two of them bearing that same auburn hair. His brothers. Eris’ sneer grew wider, more vicious, and as he turned his head to fix Nesta with a stare across the distance, she wondered if his prize hadn’t only been the doe, but her, too.

He brought his horse forwards into the clearing, further into the light, giving her an unrivalled view of the shining bruise that marred his temple.

He hadn’t taken his loss at the joust yesterday well, it seemed, and though he cast his eyes over Nesta once more, it was to Cassian that he returned his gaze, letting out a single, dissatisfied huff. The bruise stretched up to his hairline, a livid purple stark against his pale skin, and in everything else but that, he appeared every inch the nobleman. A ring sat on every finger, and his doublet was unbroken black. Like Rhysand, he too wore a livery collar draped across his chest and shoulders, but where the Queen’s councillor had a Tudor rose dangling from his chain of office, Eris had instead the badge of a dog, its head back, lifted as if howling at the sky.

He had a dagger out, too, presumably for slaying the deer, but the glint of the blade in the sunlight still promised bloodshed, and the way his hand flexed around the hilt said that it didn’t matter the doe had fled.

That dagger was to taste blood today, one way or another.

“Piss off, Northumberland,” Cassian said easily— but his own hand had strayed from his bow to the sword hanging at his hip, his wrist resting purposefully on the pommel.

Eris’ eyes flashed, quietly furious as his lip curled. “I will not stand to be insulted by one of such low standing.”

Cassian barked a laugh, but it was low and rough and dangerous. “You won’t stand for anything, sir, if I knock you from your horse as easily as I did yesterday.” He paused, and then added, “Shall I give you another bruise to decorate the other side of that pretty face?”

The duke sneered, but before he could let loose the insults that Nesta could see were rising to his tongue, there was a cacophony in the distance, and a hundred horns suddenly flaring loud enough to be heard all the way back at the castle.

It was a summoning— a call to arms, to usher Elizabeth’s court back to her as the sun reached its highest point in the sky and dinner was served in the great tents at the edge of the forest.

For the moment, at least, the hunt was at an end.

Eris twisted his head, looking behind him to the direction the horns had sounded. His brothers did not wait for him to make up his mind before they disappeared, following the call for food that was, apparently, of far greater worth to them than any loyalty they had for their brother.

Cassian bowed mockingly in the saddle, but his hand did not stray from easy reach of his blade, and when Eris turned back to them, his lips were a thin line.

“These woods are treacherous,” he said flatly. “It commands great skill as a rider to avoid the pitfalls that litter these grounds. You might have won the match yesterday, sir,” - the duke’s lips pulled back over his teeth - “but how about another match? Here and now?”

Nesta watched as Cassian grinned, almost feral.

“First to the Queen wins,” he said as he moved his horse forwards, drawing level with Eris’.

The duke’s face darkened, and the nod he gave was sharp before flicking his eyes to Nesta once more. As if this were another attempt at winning her, at securing her favour for a second time. Cassian’s smile fell away, leaving behind the same murderous expression that had fuelled him at the joust yesterday.

“For the lady’s honour, then,” Eris declared, every word imbued with venom.

And when Cassian nodded, looking behind him over his shoulder to give Nesta one final wink, Eris clenched his jaw before slamming his heels into his horse’s flank, sending the beast galloping through the trees.

Cassian swore, a curse so filthy she was sure he could only have picked it up at sea, and surged forwards, letting the forest swallow him.

But as Nesta followed, dipping beneath the cover of the trees, she saw that only the thinnest shafts of sunlight pierced the canopy of leaves above, leaving the forest floor just as treacherous as Eris had described. The ground was slick with mud, and even though the August heat ought to have dried it out, the summer sun had never made it to the ground here. Petrichor was thick in the air, and the long limbs of the trees snatched at the skirts of Nesta’s dress as she rode by them, wild and overgrown. Treacherous— this part of the forest was most definitely treacherous.

Indeed, Cassian could not ride as fast as he had yesterday, and neither could Eris, and it allowed Nesta to keep both the duke and the privateer in her sights as she followed behind, watching them weave through the trees in search of stable ground.

As her horse almost stumbled over the gnarled roots of a tree half concealed by fallen leaves, she wondered if stable ground even existed this far into the woodland, and as the wind brushed against her cheeks and another branch snagged on her cloak, she almost called out to stop the madness that had Cassian spurring his horse onwards, regardless of the danger.

The ground began to slope— sharp and steep, and it was madness, utter madness to continue—

Eris noted the slope, and Nesta watched as the duke swiftly studied the way the ground all but dropped away to reveal a small dell below, home to wide a stream that ran slow and idle through the undergrowth. Its banks were coated with mud, turning it slick and dangerous.

Wisely, he veered to the side, directing his horse around— to where the ground sloped more evenly. A longer path, but a safer one, and he looked back only once before disappearing into the trees, avoiding danger altogether.

But Cassian—

Irreverent, he glanced once over his shoulder. Manic, he grinned as he barrelled ahead, shooting Nesta a wink as he urged his horse faster still in Eris’ absence. The creature’s hooves slid in the mud, and Nesta called out his name, but Cassian had turned his face away, and if he heard her, he gave no indication.

Idiot.

She had no choice but to follow, and when he reached the banks of the stream, he did not stop. Instead he pressed in his heels, riding even faster, compelling the stallion to jump—

And Nesta watched as the horse made the jump, but its hooves slipped on the bank on the other side, its landing far from smooth.

And just as Eris had been thrown from his horse yesterday, now Cassian was thrown from his— but it was a fall that was far more treacherous, far more dangerous, and Nesta swore her heart stopped dead as she watched him land roughly, heard the muffled groan as the ground came up to meet him. Forgetting all notions of her own safety, she urged her horse faster, willing it to cross the stream his stallion had just jumped.

“You fool,” she hissed, feeling her horse whicker beneath her as she pushed the mare onwards. Cassian was lying on his back, a hand cast over his ribs as he looked up at the sky. “You could have broken your damned neck.”

Cassian twisted his head to look up at her as she pulled her horse to a halt.

“Got your attention though,” he muttered. “So I’d say it was worth it.”

“This was a bid for my attention?” Nesta echoed, dismounting roughly as he continued to lie there in the earth churned by his horse’s hooves. The mud was seeping through his breeches already, and the white sleeves of his fine cambric shirt were, she feared, irreparably stained.

“Well,” Cassian said lightly, as though he hadn’t just been thrown from a stallion. “You started it, sweetheart.”

“Started what?”

He looked up at her again, turning his head in the dirt. “You gave Eris your favour.”

Nesta blinked. “You had your horse make a jump like that, risking your own bloody neck, because I gave the duke of Northumberland my ribbon? Have you lost your mind?”

“No,” he countered evenly. “My heart, perhaps. But my mind is still wonderfully intact.”

“Up,” Nesta said sharply. “Let me look at you.”

He grinned, as though vindicated, but as he made to raise himself, he hissed sharply, sucking in a breath as he pressed a hand to his ribs. His brow furrowed with pain, eyes darkening, and Nesta sighed heavily as she pulled off her gloves, held out her hand, and helped him to his feet.

“Take off your doublet,” she said flatly, looking at the expanse of muddied velvet.

Cassian’s brow quirked. “Well, that’s not how I imagined you asking me to undress but—“

“How else can I check to see if you’ve shattered your ribcage?” she interrupted, but Cassian only grinned again and began loosening his ties. Soon enough his doublet was parted entirely, and as he slipped it from his shoulders, he winced. He let it fall to the floor, and Nesta was about to chide him for dirtying it so, but then she caught sight of his sculpted chest showing through the thin fabric of his cambric shirt. She swallowed, letting her gaze wander across his collarbone, at the tanned skin there that had been masked by his doublet’s high neck.

“And this?” Cassian said lowly, nodding to his undershirt. “Does this need to go too?”

“I… suppose it does,” Nesta said with a sniff, trying to affect nonchalance when all she could focus on was the curve of his shoulder, the muscles lining every inch of him. “How else can I check that no ribs are broken?”

“How else indeed,” Cassian hummed, and wasted no time in pulling the shirt over his head.

And good Lord have mercy, Nesta knew that Cassian was sculpted like Italian marble but nothing could have prepared her for the bare skin of his chest, hardened with muscle. Those months on a ship definitely suited him, and as she looked, she forced herself to focus on his ribs, on the task at hand.

Innocent, she thought as she tentatively traced a finger across his ribcage, where a thin scar marred his skin. It’s all entirely proper, completely innocent. Just a lady checking a friend for injury.

He was warm beneath her, so warm, his skin softer than it had any right to be. He’d spent eight months in the sun and salt air, and he’d come back looking finer than ever. Hers— this man could be hers, and as her fingers splayed across his chest, Cassian reached up with one hand and caged her touch right above his heart.

She felt it beat— sure and steadfast.

“Will I live?” he asked softly. “Or am I doomed?”

Nesta swallowed, unable to tear her eyes away from his hazel ones, boring down into her with an intensity that had her feeling slightly stunned. Her lips parted, she tried to speak, but all she could feel was his heart beating beneath her fingers, his smooth skin and the warm heat of him that had her feeling breathless.

“You’ll live,” she said at last.

He nodded, his hair falling idly over his forehead. In the sunlight, the pearl that dangled from his ear winked, the gold setting glimmering.

Nesta blinked, and somehow found the strength to drag her eyes away, dropping her gaze to the floor. Where his shirt lay in a crumpled pile next to his doublet, there was a hint of pale-blue, a small flash of colour against the white. She frowned, tilting her head, unable to understand even as she knew what it was, what it must be.

“Is that— my ribbon?”

Cassian pulled back, a somewhat sheepish smile on his face as he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair.

“Perhaps.”

“How did you even get it?” she asked, bending to retrieve it from the pile of his clothes.

He shrugged. “I wasn’t about to let Eris have it.”

Silence settled between them for a moment, broken only by the noise of the forest and the sounds of the horns, distant.

“Why didn’t you tell me about him?” he asked quietly. “About the betrothal.”

Nesta shrugged. “Because I’m trying to get out of it,” she said easily. “It was foolish of you to think I’d still be here, unwed, when you got back. You know my father—“

“Fuck your father,” he muttered. And then he softened, his eyes turning wide with something akin to pleading. “I’m here now, sweetheart. And I’m not going away again.”

“But you will,” she countered, turning her face away. He always would— he could not be tied to the court as she was, had too restless a spirit to spend his life idling away on an estate somewhere. “And I’ll be left behind, waiting for you, again.”

“You could come with me,” he offered instead, even though the both of them knew it was madness.

Elain had moved to Spain with Lucien— but that was because his place was in the Spanish court, somewhere settled. It was bad luck to have a woman aboard a ship, everyone knew that. No, Cassian could not take her with him, but she adored him a little for even offering in the first place.

“Or you could promise not to stay away so long,” she said instead, her voice quiet. “Come home, Cassian, as often as you are able. Don’t sail so far away from me.”

“Never again,” he said, holding a hand over his heart. “How could I ever stray so far, when I love you too much to stand the distance?”

Her breath caught.

I love you.

Oh, the words were said so often at court. She’d had countless dukes and earls call her their dearest love during dances and revels, and she couldn’t even begin to fathom how many had written her poems or bowed deep and told her she held their hearts in her hands. It was part of the game they played at Elizabeth’s court— part of the realpolitik that made up their world.

But it was different when he said it.

So different Nesta might have sworn the earth beneath her shifted, that standing beneath that canopy of trees, all the riches in the world lost their value.

She blinked, and he waited— waited for her to say something, to acknowledge his declaration.

And in the end, Nesta found the strength to dip her head, to smile a little demurely before stepping forward and pressing the softest, the chastest, of kisses to his cheek. Then, she turned back to her horse and mounted, leaving him standing there, looking up at her, one hand pressed to the cheek she had just kissed.

“I suppose, then,” she said, “that you can be forgiven for ignoring my letters.”

And as she began to ride off into the forest, she looked back once— and waited for him to follow.

Taglist: @c-e-d-dreamer @andrigyn @beansidhebumbling @burningsnowleopard @asnowfern @xstarlightsupremex

#nessian #nessian fic #semper eadem #extra long authors note on ao3 as per usual this time featuring:#Elizabeth's actual surviving dress; the real Madge Ratcliffe; and a little bit about the relationship between Elizabeth and Leicester

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lol-jackles · 2 months

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Walker episode 2 review

Cordell, Trey, and Cassie find themselves watching over the episode’s titular character, Maybelline Pratt, a state witness in a money laundering case. Maybeline has the charm of all 4 Golden Girls characters as well as their combined age. Like Sophie Petrillo, she gave Trey the slip and tried to hotwire a patrol car with a wrench, because that’s how they do in Sicily. Like Blanche Devereaux, she loves flirting with Trey even as they take turns running away from each other. Like Dorothy Zbonak, she is full of judgment stares and sass and keeps calling Cordell by the wrong surname. Rangers over the age of 50 are smitten with her because every red-blooded male that grew up in the 70s and 80s fell in love with Karen Allen and Kathleen Turner and their smokey voices. Harrison Ford to this day can’t stand Indiana Jones fanboys approaching him to only want to talk about Marion Ravenwood and “that voice”.

Maybelline has the Rose Nylund naivety thinking she can just go back to St. Olaf and carried a metal file in her oversized purse to escape from WITSEC. Cordell decided one of them need to take her home. Trey and Cassie were “not it” and Cordell reluctantly take her to Walker ranch while the 2 security officers assigned to her secure the area. Maybelline soften her attitude towards Cordell when she sees family pictures and learn of Emily’s passing. Later in the middle of the night, Cordell finds Maybelline having “just to taste” bourbon at the dinner table and the two have a heart to heart over Cordell’s worry over his children leaving the nest.

“The days are long, but the years are short”, Maybelline tells Cordell, and while children appear not to listen, they are always watching. The fact that Stella and August feel comfortable enough to leave home just means he (and Emily) did a good job raising them, and they’ll likely come back one day. Just like Cordell and Liam did.

Cordell found it easier to talk to a stranger about his anxiousness over being ill prepared for "the quiet" once his kids are gone. Stella too, found it easier to talk to Ben about her guilt over Witt’s death and had even shut Liam out. In attempt to make peace with her conflicting conscious, she visits a roadside memorial where Witt succumbed to his gun shot injury. Unexpectantly Witt’s uncle, Mike, shows up and seems kind, which made Stella feel worse and she flees. Then Mike ominously calls someone to say he found something “interesting”. Looks like there will be a second mystery to go with the unsolved Jackal case as we never learn why Witt broke into Geri’s house. Speaking of which…

Cassie had updated Geri (and us) that she decided to return to the Texas Rangers. Later Geri offers Cassie to move into her house, referencing the break in that it would be a good idea to have a ranger around. While Cassie is thrilled and accepted Geri’s offer, you know that Cordell would be worried about their girl talks. At least I would be.

Cordell, Trey, and Cassie brings Maybelline to court to give her testimony only to walk right into a trap to distract them so that the baddies can kidnap Maybelline. Cue lively soundtrack as a car chase through the parking garage to rescue Maybelline ends in beat down fights by Cordell and Trey. Maybelline bats her Blanche Devereaux lashes at Trey for saving her. Cordell insists it was a team effort.

At home, Cordell waits for August to discuss the issue of him wanting to join an after school boot camp to ready himself for the military, but he needs a signed permission slip from his father. Earlier August asked Bonham to go over Cordell’s head and convince Trey, who is running the program, to let him join. In the season 3 finale, Cordell wouldn’t give his permission to let August join the military while he is underage. When Bonham tries to broach the subject with Cordell, he immediately shuts it down because he wants to put off of August growing up as long as he can. But after his midnight conversation with Maybelline, Cordell is ready to have a talk with August.

Cordell explains that while he has no regret over his own tour in the military, he can’t help wondering if he missed out on other options and he doesn’t want that for August. But, if this is really what August wants, he'll be supportive, no matter how much he'll worry over his “only son” and “baby boy”. August is thrilled and promised to follow Cordell’s condition that he is present for every Sunday dinner and keep up his schoolwork. A flashback scene from the pilot episode shows Cordell telling a 14-year-old August he didn't mean for his son to grow up quickly after his mother's death, adding to Cordell’s bittersweet demeanor.

We have "the quiet" before the storm with Cordell, Liam, Ben, and Stella having fun together playing darts at the Side Step. Stella returns to her dorm to find a threatening message on the window written in red paint.

Speculation #2: Witt didn't die from his gunshot wound and was murdered on the roadside by the same person who left the threatening message to Stella.

Score: 9 out of 10. What started out a light-hearted episode ends with a horror movie jump scare, a kind of metaphor for parental struggle and angst.

artist

#walker #review #Jared Padalecki

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multifandomworldsposts · 8 months

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Day 7 of Kinktober: Throwing a Party with Hangman

pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x fem!reader

warning: protected sex, oral sex, anal sex, getting caught.

Y/N’s POV

I begged my grandma and her roommates that I want to throw a party but they obviously said no, I told them like 5 times still getting a no. So they went to out for a banquet but I stayed home, the banquet said it’s a 21+ event so I can’t go. I secretly throw a party and Jake, who my grandma and her roommates think who’s a bad influence, helped me out and wants to talk to me in private while the party is going on.

20 MINUTES LATER

Jake takes me in my room and it felt like we haven’t seen each other in a long time.

I sit on the edge of my bed and Jake locks my door.

“We’re finally alone Y/N/N.” Jake says walking up to me.

“I know, it’s just my grandmother and her roommates, they think you’re a bad influence on me.” I confess.

“Even though I show you a good time.” He smirks.

I giggle, I look at him and see his eyes, I can tell that he loves me so much, my grandma doesn’t see it.

“Jake, I love you.” I said to him.

“I love you to Y/N/N.” He says getting closer to me.

I make him get on top of me, he wraps his arms around my body to make us go to the end of the bed. We began to make out, he gives me love bites which made me moan. I help him get out of his clothes off his body, he helps me as well.

“Do you have a condom?” I look up at him.

“Right here.” Jake grins with a condom in his fingers.

Jake gets the condom on his cock and position it to my pussy. He goes in and out of me, I moan loudly and scratch his back, I miss this so much. He positions my right leg on his left shoulder, his cock goes deeper than it did before, I scream even louder and tilting my head back on my pillows, I can feel him go harder which made me tug his hair, I can tell how he fucking loved it, he bites my neck, which made me scream again. He stops us and I whimper, he makes me get on my knees and gets a new condom on and fucks my ass.

We hear my door knob rattling, Jake and I try to look like we were talking but my grandma catches us, naked and afraid. My grandma’s face looks mortified including one of her roommates turns away. Jake and I look at each other, we’re fucking terrified as she was.

When everyone left, the house looked so trashed and me sitting on one of our chairs in the living room, embarrassed.

“Why would you do this Y/N!” My grandmother says to me.

I look down.

“Y/N, you promised us you wouldn’t throw a party and be with that delinquent.” Blanche says.

I have nothing to say, I just have this embarrassed look on my face.

“Y/N! Answer me!” My grandma says.

“It was Jake’s idea.” I say still looking down.

“Look up at us while you’re talking to us and stop lying!” Rose says.

“I’m not lying!” I look up and yell.

“Don’t use that tone with us.” My great grandma says pointing at me.

“Now tell us the truth, whose idea was it to throw a party?” My grandma said walking up to me and gets down to my level.

“Me. I did it.” I confess.

“Why would you do that? You’re not a party person.” Blanche says.

“I just wanted to have a fun with my friends.” I say.

“Are you sure? It looked like Jake or whatever his name is had a good time.” My grandma says.

I curl myself up in a ball, I’m so embarrassed.

“I’m sorry you guys, I wish I never did it.” I look up at them with tears in my eyes.

“You know you’re going to be punished for this.” Rose says.

“I know.” I wipe my tears away.

“You’re going to do a lot of chores and it starts with this room first.” My grandma points out the mess in the living room.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” I say.

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it.” My great grandma said.

THE NEXT DAY

I clean the house every inch of it including all of the bedrooms, especially my bedroom, I hate my god damn self! I eventually got everything done and I’m grounded for 2 months, 2 fucking months! I’m not allowed to leave the house, I’m not even allowed to see my friends, and I have to do my homework in the kitchen or the living room. Fuck my life.

#fanfic #fanfiction #jake hangman smut #jake hangman seresin smut #top gun #top gun fandom #hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #top gun hangman #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #glen powell smut #glen powell fanfaction #glen powell #glen powell imagine

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prythiansfavoritefox · 1 month

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Pairing: Elucien

Elain stared at Lucien, shock clear on her face. "I...but I'm a human. This doesn't make sense. How could I-how could we possibly be mates?"

Lucien slumped over in his chair, head in his hands. He was just as stunned as she was. Something had compelled him to walk into the Lion's den, the place where his father held court like he was a goddamn king (well, not his father by blood, but the father he'd unfortunately grown up with). That something had driven him crazy, explosions of magic bursting out of him at the sight of the human woman they dragged by her hair. It was only after he'd killed everybody in the vicinity, grabbed her, and escaped from there that he'd realized what had happened.

Lucien sighed. "I'm not completely human, Elain." She was the most exceptionally beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he'd been surrounded by vampires most of his life; he just wished they'd met under different circumstances. Lucien had had no idea he could even imprint considering his mixed nature, but this answered his question. She narrowed her doe-brown eyes on him. "You have the mark of a vampire hunter," she said, indicating the small bit of skin exposed at his wrist revealing the magic mark. "Are you a werewolf, then?"

Lucien snorted. His skin did not feel cold like most vampires; it ran red hot because of the fire in his blood. Because of it, his relatives had a higher tolerance to sunlight then most vampire breeds. Hence, they were sometimes mistaken for werewolves whose blood ran hot. It also made them more dangerous than most vampires.

"No. I'm half-vampire."

Elain blanched and jumped away from him. Her eyes were wide as she exclaimed, "You're a hybrid? And you're hunting your own kind?"

Lucien couldn't help but be amused by her reaction, leaning back in his own chair and smirking slightly. "If you knew my family, you'd understand why. Besides, I like my human side better."

Elain stared at him haughtily, placing her hands on her hips. "I can assure you, nothing about your behavior thus far has remotely resembled that of a human's."

"Consider me an upgrade, then."

Elain rolled her eyes, walking away from him. Drawn by the mating bond instincts, Lucien followed her. "Are you a vampire hunter too, then?" He was pretty sure he'd seen the mark on her skin as Beron's servants had dragged her towards the dais.

"In a matter of speaking." Lucien followed Elain into some kind of kitchen, where various strange smelling herbs and stews were kept in closed pots. Lucien inspected one, and the pungent odor made him smile.

"Don't go near that!" Elain shouted, rushing towards him, but Lucien just chuckled. "Relax, little witch. This won't harm me. It wouldn't kill any of my family members either, but it would certainly do them a great deal of damage. Any other vampire would get one whiff and die instantly."

Elain heaved a sigh of relief. She had put on an apron now, and Lucien couldn't help but think of how adorable she looked in the squirrel and acorn print. She reached for the cupboard above him, getting on her tiptoes. Lucien, suppressing his laughter, reached up and handed it to her. She took it from him with a little huff, gracefully placing them beside yet another pan before going to the fridge and pulling out vegetables.

Lucien's brows rose. "Don't tell me you're making another potion? Don't you have enough of those?"

Elain turned back to him, the faintest of smiles on her face. "This isn't a potion, silly. It's dinner."

Oh. Lucien blinked. "Ahhhh, well, tell me what you're making so that I can help."

Elain opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly, there was the sound of a garage door opening, and she paused, something pained crossing her expression. "Quick! You need to hide!" she hissed.

Lucien wished he hadn't put it together so quickly, but he did. "Your husband?"

Elain shook her head. "My fiance. I...well before I met you, I was engaged. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but...truthfully, in the moment, I had forgotten." The words she didn't say hung between them.

Because I was so enamored by you.

Lucien quickly threw himself into a closet. He clenched his fists, squeezed his eyes tight, and took deep breaths to try and control his mating reflexes. There was the sound of a door opening and closing before Elain's lovely voice cried, "Graysen!" and nimble feet ran towards heavier feet.

There was a thud, and a yelp from Elain, and Lucien could guess what had happened. She had been slammed against the wall.

"Where is he?" Graysen snarled. Elain blinked. "Where is who?"

"Your mate!" he bellowed. "I know he's here; I can smell him."

Lucien could smell Graysen too; his mate had unknowingly gotten engaged to a vampire's sworn enemy: a werewolf.

"What do you mean, you can smell him?" Elain demanded. "What are you, a dog?"

"That's exactly what he is." Lucien swaggered out of his hiding place, lazy grin on his face. Inside, he was seething as he saw how helpless Elain was, pinned to the wall by her own lover. "Elain, your fiance is a werewolf. Dog, I'd advise you get your hands off the lady, right now."

Like a dog, Graysen barked at him and charged towards him. Lucien laughed. It was a werewolf's greatest weakness: their impulsivity and lack of control over their emotions. As Graysen barreled at him, Lucien easily sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and slammed him against the opposite wall, whipping out a knife to press against his throat.

Lucien crooned in his ear, "Bad. Dog."

He looked back at Elain, and the hurt in her expression had the mating bond raring at him to slit Graysen's throat where he stood. But Lucien knew that wouldn't solve any problems, especially since she still loved him.

Instead, he pressed against a spot on Graysen's neck, knocking him out. "We'll deal with him later," Lucien assured her, and the slightest of smiles bloomed on her face. Lucien couldn't help but answer with a wider one of his own.

@tacocattacocattacocatexplosion

#elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #fanfic #vampire hunter au

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fizzyxcustard · 1 year

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I've Loved You Forever.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: North & South (modern AU)

Pairings: Modern John Thornton x Fem!Reader/Fem!Reader x OC

Warnings: Language, angst, pining.

Summary: It is the Christmas party for John Thornton and his workers from Marlborough Mills. You have all been allowed to take partners, and that means your boyfriend of eighteen months is there. When he is asked if he loves you and can't answer, John Thornton's rage comes out full throttle, especially as he's been in love with you for quite some time.

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in. I’m gradually removing people from my tag lists who do not interact.

I tend to use Lucas North pictures as my modern Thornton images. This idea actually came to me randomly a few days ago when I was reading on the train.

Thank you to @knittastically and @lathalea for helping me who to choose the character for this idea. I may open this scenario up to other RA characters if people are interested and would like to request.

It was your work Christmas party, and your manager John Thornton had been kind enough to let everyone bring their partners along. However, you noticed that he still remained at the head of the table alone. There was no one at his side like the majority of everyone else around the table. Due to the size of your whole party, it was spilling over on to a second table. A couple of the machinery operators from Marlborough Mills, where you all worked, were sat with their wives, off to the side of the main table. Your boyfriend of eighteen months, Stuart, was beside you. As usual, he seemed to naturally turn all heads towards him. He was joking about someone he worked with, an unfortunate soul whom he disliked, and enjoyed tormenting.

John looked at Stuart and silently scoffed. The man was a prick! Self-absorbed, entitled, opinionated, sarcastic. How the hell had you even got with a man like this? You were everything that Stuart wasn’t.

The conversation, you noticed, seemed to steer to a more personal topic. Kelly, one of the wives of a colleague, grinned at Stuart across the table. “So do you love her? Are you planning to put a ring on her finger?” How had the conversation turned to this? Where had your thoughts been up until this moment?

Stuart began to blanch and tried to divert the topic. Never once though did he look at you.

“Become a bit speechless there, Stu?” John hissed, resting his arms on the table.

Kelly recoiled back, knowing that she had inadvertently caused a potential argument for later.

“Aren’t you going to answer Kelly’s question?” John growled again. “Or is that an answer you’ve got to think long and hard about?”

“John,” you said softly, looking up sheepishly at your boss. “It’s okay.”

Stuart got up from his seat quickly. “Anybody for another drink?”

John’s livid stare followed Stuart to the bar, and everyone else around the table had noticed. Why had John become so defensive?

In your embarrassment and hurt, you got up, excusing yourself from the table and slipped around the full tables and out into the chill of the evening air. A heat had rose in your head and prickles of pain rested behind your eyes, threatening tears. But you pushed them back, putting your self-control in place. Stuart had embarrassed you enough in public over the last eighteen months you’d been together, but never on such a scale as this.

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice came.

You looked up to see John Thornton a few feet away from you. “It’s fine, John.”

“It’s not fine,” John exclaimed. “How long have you two been together?”

“Eighteen months.”

“And in that time he hasn’t figured out if he loves you? Fucking hell…” John seethed. “You’re going to just let him get away with doing that in front of you. You deserve so much better than that.”

You sighed, chewing on your lip. “Plenty of people tell you you deserve something but you can’t see that inside yourself. And a lot of people will tell you that you deserve something but be completely unable to give that to you themselves. They’re fobbing it off for someone else to pick up.”

John felt that all-consuming love for you rise. How had he kept it inside for all this time? You had been his right hand for the last two years, being the assistant manager, secretary and everything in between that John couldn’t always manage to take care of. When you had announced the fact you had a boyfriend, the pain cut John deep. It felt as though it would be a pain he would carry forever. And over that time you had been with Stuart, the pain had never dulled, he had only learned to live with it.

“I’m not fobbing you off,” John said softly. “I’m telling you that you need a man who will love you, put you first, adore you. A man who will make you breakfast in the morning, constantly tell you how beautiful you are, give you gifts just because he wants to. Someone who can make you smile.”

The intensity of John’s words and his gaze made your heart beat quicker. Butterflies began flapping viciously in your stomach. It was that same feeling you had had every day since meeting him. John Thornton was a gentleman; he was everything that Stuart wasn’t. He was the man you wanted to be doing all those things he’d only just moments ago spoken of. But surely he would never be prepared to do that for you.

“I know you only mean well, John,” you said, turning to walk back into the pub.

John caught your hand. His gaze was burning into yours, and you couldn’t help but sigh. You whispered his name, tightening your grip on his hand. You were inches apart, and despite the cold around you, you felt hot. Anticipation raced up your spine, and you felt your cheeks burn.

“He can’t tell you he loves you,” John began. “But I can.”

You took a painful inhale, waiting for him to speak again.

John smiled. “I love you. It feels like I’ve loved you forever, and I won’t stop.”

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @linasofia @middleearthpixie @knittastically @xxbyimm @meganlpie @luna-xial @guardianofrivendell @eunoiaastralwings @msjava1972 @rachel1959 @asgardianhobbit98 @missihart23 @lemond57 @quiall321 @sazzlep @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady @catthefearless @mrsdurin @evenstaredits @glassgulls @solairewisteria @aliasauthor @littlebird-99 @court-jobi @heilith @absentmindeduniverse @albionscastle @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms

#North and South #Modern AU #North & South Modern AU #John Thornton #Modern John Thornton #John Thornton x Fem!Reader #Modern John Thornton x Fem!Reader #Richard Armitage

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maria021015 · 11 days

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SPOILERS AHEAD FOR CHAPTER 38!

Zaida stood at the beginning of the track, squatting and lunging to stretch the muscles in her thighs as she waited for the rest of the cross country team to join the small group of them who were already ready to go for one of their first official training sessions.

“You never struck me as a track girl, Zaida.” Danny chuckled at her as he effortlessly jogged up to where she was now stretching out her calves.

“I’ve been going for jogs in the Preserve for months now. I thought if I join, I can do this instead of those.” She shrugged. Truthfully, she felt as though she needed the extra exercise, what with everything currently going on in Beacon Hills. If it ever came to it, she wanted to be able to run as far and as fast as needed. “Why’d you join?”

“Coach makes it mandatory for Lacrosse players - says he doesn’t want us getting fat in the off-season.” Danny shrugged.

“This school takes that game way too seriously,” She rolled her eyes.

“Really? I could have sworn I saw you getting pretty into it at the grand final.” Danny shot her a mischievous and suggestive smirk. She recalled how enthusiastically she’d been cheering Stiles on that night and a flush rose to her cheeks. Had everyone discovered her feelings for Stiles before she had?

“It was a tense game,” She shrugged, hoping she sounded casual instead of dismissive.

“Oh, there was tension, for sure.” The boy winked at her and she huffed at him. “Speaking of which, if you did want to grab a ride on that train, Stiles was just saying this morning how he’s looking to give it up.”

“I’m sorry, he said what?!” She blanched, her heart stopping in her chest as she spotted the boy joining the group, along with Scott and Isaac.

“He was borderline hysterical in the locker room, going on about how he thinks some guy got kidnapped because he was a virgin and that his ‘lack of sexual experience was now literally a threat to his life’.” Danny quoted the boy and Zaida slapped her palm over her burning face. He was talking about the human sacrifices. That boy needed to learn how to keep his volume down in public. Coach Finstock blew the starting whistle and Danny began jogging backwards. “Try to keep up if you can, Callis.”

“Nobody likes a show-off, Mahealani,” She started after him, her sneakers digging into the soft ground to propel her forward until she reached the hard dirt track that wound through the section of the Preserve that connected to the back of Beacon Hills High.

“But I make it look good!” The boy laughed, and he truly did. He was an Adonis amongst them, but it would do his ego no good to know that.

As she kept a steady pace a few feet behind Danny, Isaac bolted past her with inhumane speed. Not even a few seconds later, Scott was running after him calling the werewolf’s name in warning. It was all Zaida needed to propel herself forward towards the front of the group. Her lungs burned as she tried to keep her breathing stable. They both disappeared further up the track chasing after the new twins who were in first place. Why would they be...? And then it hit her. The new boys had arrived at school around the same time the alpha pack had come to town. Peter had mentioned something about two alphas that merged to create one giant alpha. That seemed like a very ‘twin-like’ skill. How had the two been right under their noses the entire time and they’d never noticed?

Somehow Zaida ended up making it to the front of the group - considering everyone else was taking it easy due to the long length of track ahead whilst she was sprinting - but she was still nowhere near the werewolves who seemed to have gone off-road. She came careening to a sudden stop at the sight of a body strung up against a tree. The boy’s head was sagging forward but she could see the blood that had streamed from the top of his head and around his neck, drenching his shirt, jacket, jeans, and even his shoes in deep crimson liquid. The rope that had been used to strangle him was still suspending him up on the trunk. Only..upon closer inspection that wasn’t a rope. It was a dog’s leash. Her scream was caught in her throat, causing her to emit a choked sound as footsteps crunching on dried leaves approached from behind her and quickly stopped.

“Hey, hey, don’t look.” Danny pulled her away from it protectively, and from her new position, all she could see were the faces of her terrified classmates. Stiles pushed through the crowd to get to her and looked past to where her back now faced the corpse of the boy. The werewolves finally rejoined them, the twins staring at the body with a complete lack of recognition in their eyes.

“It's him, isn't it?” Stiles asked as Scott stopped by his side. Scott gave a slight nod in confirmation. It was the boy who had gone missing from the animal clinic when he was working the night before.

“Hey, get out of the way! Get back!” The voice of Noah Stilinski ordered them. The fact that he had shown up so quickly made her think that someone else had already called the body in. They had just unfortunately stumbled across it before the police had arrived. “Get this area cordoned off before they trample every piece of evidence.”

“Back up! Everyone back!” A dark-skinned deputy named Tara - one whom Zaida often exchanged greetings with at the station - started to clear the area.

“Zaida?” Another familiar voice called out for her. Her brother appeared in her peripheral vision, pulling her away from the violent crime scene, frowning at her in concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

“It’s not the first one I’ve seen,” She admitted in a dry voice.

“Is something going on again? Is there anything you’re not telling me?” Xander asked her, and she couldn’t bring herself to lie to him this time.

“There’s an alpha pack in town, but we don’t think this was them.” She answered honestly.

“An alpha pa-” He started, clearly not having heard of that term before.

“They’re all alphas. Every last one of them. And their leader is apparently the worst of all.” Zaida interjected. “We don’t know what they want yet - we just know that they kidnapped Erica, Boyd and Derek’s younger sister, killed Erica, and tried to kill Derek, Scott and Isaac. Those two over there, the identical twins? They’re part of it.”

“You should have told me sooner,” He locked his jaw in frustration but let it go with a light huff, simply glad that she was okay. “Just go with your friends and let me handle this, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll see you at the apartment.” She nodded and followed his instruction, heading over to join Stiles, Isaac and Scott.

“Get these kids out of here!” Stilinski was still shouting for the place to be completely cleared out.

“You heard the man!” Coach tried to be helpful. “Nothing to see here! Probably just some homeless kid…”

“Coach?” Scott interrupted him. “He was a senior.”

“Oh…” Coach covered his mouth and let out a long and heavy sigh. “He wasn't on the team, was he?”

“Seriously, Coach?” Zaida looked at him with a deadpan expression.

“KYLE!” An ear-piercing shriek caught them all off guard as a young woman and the hairs on Zaida’s arms stood up as her blood curdled at the sound. “Oh, God, Kyle! Oh, God!”

“Go on! Go.” Noah shot them all a stern look and they backed away, separating from the rest of the class to talk in private.

“You see the way the twins looked at him?” Isaac pointed out, his nostrils flaring and muscles in his jaw tensing as he glared.

“Yeah, you mean, like, they had no idea what happened?” Stiles scoffed.

“No. No, they knew.” Isaac insisted.

“The kid was strangled with a garrote, all right? Am I the only one recognizing the lack of werewolf-itude in these murders?” Stiles exclaimed in exasperation, butting heads with the beta as usual.

“I think you’re a bit biased here, Isaac, and I’m not blaming you for it, but I just don’t think it was them.” Zaida supported the boy.

“Oh, you think it's a coincidence they turn up and then people start dying?” Isaac targeted his response more at Stiles than at her.

“I don’t think that it’s entirely separate. It’s too weird for it to have started happening at the same time after months of peace in the supernatural realm. The two are probably connected somehow…” Zaida mused, chewing slightly on her bottom lip in deep thought.

“But I still don't think it's them…” Stiles finished her thought process for her, looking to Scott for his opinion. “Scott?”

“How 'bout you?” Isaac did the same.

“...I don't know yet.” Scott stumbled over his words, sounding entirely unsure of himself.

“You don't know yet?” Stiles repeated with a dramatically incredulous expression.

“Well, he's got a point…” Scott tilted his head with a sceptical tone. “Seriously, dude? Human sacrifices?”

“Scott, your eyes turn into yellow glow-sticks, okay? Hair literally grows from your cheeks and then will immediately disappear, and if I were to stab you right now, it would just magically heal, but you're telling me that you're having trouble grasping human sacrifices???” Stiles ranted, completely appalled.

“That's a good point, too…” Scott sighed in agreement.

“I don't care. They killed that kid. They killed the girl that saved me. I'm gonna kill them, too.” Isaac stated determinedly with a dark look in his blue eyes, stalking off.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m with you on this one, Stiles.” Zaida huffed and propped her hands up on her hips.

“It’s worth a lot,” Stiles smiled at her gratefully, and her heart melted a little bit.

“She’s not coming, she has detention with Isaac, courtesy of Ms Morrell and Mr Harris,” Zaida answered Lydia’s question of whether Allison would be joining them in the cafeteria for lunch. “Actually, Isaac’s detention was because of the twins, who-”

“Lydia, what are you doing free period?” Aiden stalked up to the redhead, leaning against the wall of lockers in a cliche douchebag pose.

“Speak of the devil,” Zaida rolled her eyes and shut her locker with a slam, addressing the boy with a scowl. “Definitely not you. Now why don’t you scurry off with your tail between your legs?”

“I’m studying,” Lydia answered the boy’s question, ignoring Zaida’s sudden animosity.

“What about tonight?” The boy persisted.

“Nope. Studying.” The redhead insisted upon her initial response.

“I could help you…” Aiden offered with a smirk.

“Do you have an IQ higher than one-seventy?” Lydia challenged with a sarcastic glint in her intelligent green eyes.

“...Okay, you could help me.” Aiden chuckled. “Tonight, then?”

“Did you not hear what I said? Scram, you mangy mutt!” Zaida hissed at him and shooed her away with her hands before looping her arm through Lydia’s and dragging her away from him. “Lyds, stay away from him, okay? He is bad news.”

“Come on, Zaida. You know I’m not looking for anything serious.” Lydia scoffed at her friend’s protectiveness.

“No, listen to me, Aiden’s not just some hot, troubled bad-boy with a leather jacket and motorcycle and the douchiest face on planet Earth. That alpha pack that’s in town? The same pack that killed Erica, kidnapped Boyd and Derek’s sister, and tried to kill like almost everyone we know? Ethan and Aiden are part of that pack.” Zaida explained in an urging tone. “Just stay away from him, alright?”

“Oh,” Lydia stated in a surprised voice, her eyes widening slightly.

“You’ve already screwed him, haven’t you?” Zaida groaned, reading her best friend’s face easily.

“Well, I didn’t know he was a murdering werewolf!” She whisper-shouted in defence of herself. “I just thought he was a regular hot jerk.”

“You really need better taste in men.” Zaida pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. When she opened her eyes she noticed Stiles further down the hallway trying to talk to the blond girl who had been screaming on the track earlier. “Look, I’ll meet up with you soon, I’ve just gotta go see what that’s about. In the meantime, keep your legs shut, would you?”

Lydia shook her head at the brunette’s comment, but she knew it was a joke so she didn’t take it to heart. “Just because you’re on your way to joining a convent doesn’t mean I have to go with you.”

“Love you too!” Zaida called back at the redhead as she walked away, throwing her hand up and flashing a very particular finger.

“Um, hi, Ashley. Can I talk to you for just one sec?” Stiles fiddled with his fingers and stumbled over his words anxiously as Zaida joined him. What was he going to say to her? “Sorry, I just need to ask you something really quick, and it's gonna sound really unbelievably insensitive, so I apologize in advance...Um…”

Zaida’s eyes widened in alarm. No, he wouldn't...would he?

#teen wolf #teen wolf fanfic #stiles stilinski #stiles #stiles x oc #teen wolf fanfiction #teenwolf fanfiction #teenwolf #female oc #female original character #lydia martin #danny mahealani #isaac lahey #scott mccall

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angelasscribbles · 1 year

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One Night in Cordonia Chapter 9: Aftermath

Series: One Night in Cordonia, a @choicesprompts Round Robin Event.

Fandom: TRR with a little OH

Pairings: So many lol. Let's see,,, while Leo and Madeleine are about to be engaged that didn't stop Mads from being with Anton or trying to get with Liam. It also didn't stop Leo from fantasizing about Adelaide. Meanwhile we saw Bastien x Claudius, Bertrand x Drake, Olivia x Max, Olivia x Tobias, and in perhaps the only 'normal' pairing, Liam x Riley.

Word Count: 1,483

Rating: MA

Warnings: lots of mentions of sex

A/N: Thanks to @harleybeaumont for bouncing a couple of ideas with me.

This is the final "wrap-up" chapter. Thanks to the writers that participated in this little endeavor and thanks to all the readers that joined us on the journey! It's been fun and there will be more round robins in the future.

While this concludes our main series, I am hoping for the following one-shots:

Leo x Adelaide @karahalloway

Olivia x Max @alj4890

Olivia x Tobias @jerzwriter

I myself am thinking about doing a little follow-up with Liam x Riley to explore her backstory in this universe (American model, here during Leo's season, with a press secretary, how did that happen?)

Leo and Liam circulated through the crowd gathered on the front lawn of the Beaumont estate, handing out bottles of water and answering questions as vaguely as possible.

Bertrand stood in a small group asking questions and piecing together what had transpired the night before. The last thing he needed was another damn scandal. It was bad enough that Anna De Luca had published that story speculating that they were broke, all because Maxwell had freaked out over a canceled credit card.

Bertrand had canceled the card to teach his spendthrift brother a lesson, but after years of yelling at him that his extravagant habits were going to break them, Maxwell had assumed that was exactly what had happened. There had been a very public spectacle when his card had gotten declined at the Annual Cordonian Peafowl Convention.

And now his brother was being ridiculous trying to convince him that they possessed some kind of resistance to the shagging smog that had turned their party into an orgy. Preposterous!

“So, you and I and Liam and Leo are all immune!” Max told him.

“What do you mean immune?” He sneered, “That can’t be true!”

“Oh yes,” Constantine assured him, “Exposure makes you immune and that immunity gets passed down to your children! Your father and I attend this party one time…”

As Constantine prattled on, Bertrand’s eyes rose slowly, and reluctantly, to meet Drake’s expressionless gaze. He blanched and stumbled backward knocking over one of the tables full of water bottles.

“…oh, now that I think of it, that was the summer after you were born!” Constantine slapped him on the back with a chuckle, “Never mind! Guess you weren’t immune after all.”

“Oh, thank heavens!” Bertrand was so relieved that he didn’t even care he’d blurted that out loud.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” Constantine waved as he strode away, “I really have to be getting back to the palace now.”

“Sir, excuse me,” Maxwell chased after the king as he made his way toward his motorcade.

“Yes, son?”

“About the bash…”

“What about it?”

“Leo said you were going to ban them in the future, but since this wasn’t our fault…I mean…it was an attack and not anything that we did so-“

“Calm down boy!” Constantine guffawed, “I suppose, considering the circumstances, there’s no harm in continuing the bashes, just up the security next time!”

“Yes, sir!” Max almost passed out from relief, “We will, sir!”

Madeline sat in one of the lounge chairs that had been scattered around the lawn, examining her nails studiously as she considered the night before. Justin may have turned out to be a terrorist hell-bent on overthrowing the monarchy, but boy could he shag! Too bad Liam had refused her advances, she’d likely never get another chance at him. For one, she was about to be his sister-in-law, and for two, he seemed quite taken with that American strumpet, Riley Brooks. Dismissing that train of thought, her mind wandered back to Justin, or Anton, or whatever his name was, she wondered if the palace allowed conjugal visits.

Penelope barely remembered her actions, she had already been piss drunk before the shagging smog after all. Still, her question remained. How would they know that they weren’t lesbians unless they tried? She watched Kiara from across the lawn, wondering how to get her best friend to reconsider their relationship.

Oliva yawned as she watched the Cordonian upper crust freaking out about their night of lost inhibitions.

Amateurs.

What on earth was wrong with indulging your kinks now and then? Prudes, the lot of them.

Before the attack had happened, she had been about to sneak away with Trystan Thorne, the exiled prince of Drakovia for a little slap and tickle when Jin had appeared demanding to know what she was doing. Not him. She had trussed him up and indulged his little cock and ball torture kink one damn time and now she couldn’t get rid of him.

Thankfully he had already been escorted from the premises. As a former spy for the Auvernese government, he’d been taken in for questioning.

Her eyes lifted to take in Maxwell Beaumont giving her a surreptitious once over. She hated herself a little for the shiver of desire that ran through her. Looking away she decided that she would deal with the younger Lord Beaumont issue later. Right now she had a hot doctor waiting to be tied up.

She quietly slipped away from the group and headed for the armory.

Several days later….

“We have the men responsible in custody, sir,” the young guardsman told him, “Except one, we’re not sure how he escaped.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Bastien Lykel turned toward the window overlooking the Beaumont’s vineyards, “Call off the search. We should be able to get what we need out of the prisoners currently in the palace cells. We have their leader, Anton Severus. We don’t need the escapee.”

“Sir?”

“You’re dismissed, Lieutenant!”

The young officer scurried out of the room that Bastien had turned into a makeshift office as they continued to comb the crime scene for clues.

Not that he needed any. He knew who was behind the attack. And he knew exactly how Claudius had escaped.

The two men stood in the cool night air on the same hill that Claudius had stood on just two nights earlier as he had received his orders from Anton.

Claudius eyed him with deep suspicion, “Why are you letting me go? What’s in it for you?”

“There’s nothing in it for me, other than knowing you’ll be safe from the death sentence this way.”

“Why do you care?”

Bastien grunted, “How can you ask me that? For the sake of what we once were to each other-“

“If you gave a shit about me, you wouldn’t have left the Sons of the Earth! You wouldn’t have joined the enemy!”

“Corondia is not your enemy, and the Sons of the Earth are misguided. Anton Severus is an egomaniac and a narcissist! I joined the King’s Guard to protect my country from people exactly like him!”

“People like me?”

Bastien stepped forward, taking the other man’s head in his hands as he stared into his eyes, “You’re nothing like him! And it’s not too late for you! No one knows you’re affiliated with the Sons! You could leave! You can still live a worthwhile life!”

Claudius knocked the other man’s hands away with a shake of his head, “I don’t believe you, and I don’t forgive you for leaving. This changes nothing!”

He had come for revenge, but he was leaving with renewed angst over his lost love. He gave Bastien one last desperate look before turning and melting into the night.

Every member of the Sons of the Earth that had fallen victim to the shagging smog would be tried and convicted of attempted murder, treason, and actual murder.

On the other side of Cordonia, the Cult of Dionysus had succumbed to the experimental gas that had been meant for the nobility. Their deaths would secure the maximum sentence for the collaborators.

Before he fled into the night, Claudius had willingly given up the distributor of the gas as revenge for giving them the wrong product.

With Anton in custody, Claudius was now the leader of the Sons of the Earth.

He wasn’t sure he was ready. His devotion to the cause wasn’t as strong as it used to be. He’d been focused for so many years on exacting his vengeance on Bastien Lykel for leaving the movement, and him. But after their night of passion, he was no longer sure that he could execute any plan that might hurt his former lover.

Teagan had already abandoned the group citing gross incompetence and mediocre leadership.

When he finally made it back to headquarters, he realized he was working with a third of the original group. One-third were sitting in the palace cells and one-third had walked away along with Teagan.

He was left with green recruits and men that should have retired years ago.

With mixed feelings, he sent them all home, telling them to disperse, lay low and wait to be recalled at some nebulous point in the future.

The Sons of the Earth was officially disbanded. Taken out by a video gamer and fucking shagging smog.

Claudius poured himself a generous helping of Anton’s best whiskey and settled into the plush leather executive chair in Anton’s office. He stared out the window as he wondered what he was supposed to do with his life now.

He pulled out his phone and typed Bastien’s name into Google then zoomed in on a photo of him at the last King’s Guard’s Annual Awards Banquet, looking handsome and distinguished in a well-fitting suit.

His fingers traced over his former lover’s face on the screen as he contemplated his next move.

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xxwhiskeyxx · 1 year

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Headcanons w/ Whiskey More Random Rambles

when Dew is pissed off, like shaking with rage, steam will pour out his ears and his former gill slits, due to his now minor Water side, like a cartoon character

Ghouls wlll kneed like a cat when relaxed and sleepy/asleep, this is how Copia’s ragged pants became the way they did. When he bought them, he had worn them to show them off to the ghouls and, as he usually does, got tugged into a ghoul pile. Unfortunately, Dew was curled around his legs and he fell asleep..let’s just say that they did have to patch them a tad

Air ghouls can float, if they focus hard enough but it gives them headaches if they do it for more than a few minutes

Alpha puts on an act in front of the other ghouls, he seems like he’s this hot-headed, agressive dickhead who hates everyone and is always looking for an excuse to fight...that is until he’s alone with Omega, and later on Aether, this is where he comes his true self. Still a little hot-headed, but he is soft, wants to be held and coddled by his mate, purrs so loud that it can be heard outside the room, and overall just sweet. Omega teases him about it, to Alpha’s dismay, but he loves having his snuggly Firebug.

When Aether had first been summoned, Omega had been his mentor, teaching him everything he knew about Quintessence, healing, and guitar to name a few. But something they loved to do together, especially after that night he and Alpha had “taught him his lesson”, was on clear nights, they climb to the roof of the Abbey or go to a little clearing that Omega had found when he had been first summoned. This is where they gaze at the stars, pointing out planets and galaxies that they can see due to there being no light pollution since the church was miles from the nearest town. Omega would either lie the younger ghoul between his legs so his head was rested on his belly or simply lie next to him and hold his hand

Quintessinal ghouls crave touch, partially because of something to do with their element (it grounds them and allows them to focus their energy on the person their touching), but also because with the fact that their species is so rare, they tend to be alone in the Pit unless they so happen to find another Quintessence ghoul. They are easily the touchiest of the ghouls, followed by Earth ghouls (more on that later)

Mist had taken Dew under he wing like a older sister, she cared for the little ghoul despite him being a hybrid and having to sometimes share him with Alpha so he could hone his fire side. She was the one who was with him when he had first summoned his element topside, he had created a small tsunami in the lake after getting angry over the fact that he couldn't seem to control water at all. That was the day she knew he was going to be okay and after that they had been practically inseparable, clinging to each other whenever possible, where one was the other was just behind. So when Dew had been forced into the ritual by Sister, Mist had nearly torn her throat out and probably would have killed Sister if she hadn’t been detained by Omega. This is why she was sent back to the Pit, Dew awoke to his best friend and bonded-sister gone.

Cumulus wears either slides w/ socks or slippers at all times when at home, inspired by videos she’s seen on youtube, she has now mastered the art of throwing her chancla’s at any of the ghouls who are doing something she thinks is dumb, says something inappropriate, or simply if she thinks they deserve it. Swiss and Dew have never been able to dodge her sharp shooter aim, Mountain once made the mistake of dodging...lets just say he learned to never dodge a flying chacla or slipper again and had several large bruises from a certain tiny ghoulette in the shape of the bottom of a sandle.

The ghouls love the Golden Girls and they watch it whenever they can; Cirrus is Dorothy, Copia is Rose, Swiss is Blanche, and Dew is Sophia

When Frozen 2 came out, Cumulus forced all the ghoul’s to get to the theater to watch it, she had fallen in love with the first one when she watched it on dvd after she was summoned. Her, Sunny, and Aether were excited (big man is a Disney man), Rain tried to play off that he was going to hate it (also a disney man but he thinks nobody knows despite him always requesting Disney for movie night), Dew and Swiss were complaining the entire way to the theater and fussed until the movie started (now you can catch them singing the songs whenever they think their alone or under their breath), and Cirrus doesn’t care cause she jus wants her babygirl happy (she likes Disney enough, but it’s not her favorite

Zephyr is very protective over the air ghoulettes, he sees Cumulus and Cirrus almost as if his kids and had to be restrained from hurting Swiss when he heard he had accidentally made Cumulus cry (see my kink boundary headcanon for reason)

Zephyr, Omega, and Alpha (in that order: Zephyr was there before Lucifer fell while Omega and Alpha were born around the time of Noah’s flood) are the oldest physical ghouls but also the longest summoned for the church. Mountain and Aether are the second eldest, Mounty being close to a 5 thousand years old and Aether being a few centuries younger

In Contrast: Rain and Sunshine are the youngest. Rain is only 300 years old while Sunshine is only 150.

If you read my Kink Boundaries headcanon, you know that Cumulus and Dew were both humans before they arrived in hell. So was Sunshine and surprisingly Ifrit.

Dew was around in the early Roman Empire, sold as a slave. He had been the son of an extremely wealthy family but he had been kidnapped when he was around 11 years old by a group of men who thought he was a “pretty little thing” and knew they would catch a good price for him. They shaved his head and starved him until he was even slimmer than he was when they first stole him. They took him across the sea to a distant country so his family would never find him. Once sold, He was forced to sleep with his master and his sons, one of which was especially cruel and is the reason behind Dewdrop’s trauma

Cumulus was a servant girl to a king in Mesopotamia, similar things happened to her like with Dew but it was because the King found her especially beautiful and would invite any Allie’s to sleep with his “gorgeous servant slut” in exchange for resources and money. Her mother would try to comfort her and help soothe any injuries she attained from these “visits” but poor Cumulus was so traumatized because this had been happening since she was around 9 years old, she would never fully recover

Ifrit was a peasant in what is now Russia. The daughter of a well off family noticed him and they began a relationship, mostly simple walks at night when she would sneak away and small little conversation behind his family’s shop. But it turned sexual after a few months of them seeing each other and this was Ifrit’s downfall. Her brother had followed her one night and caught them having sex in the nearby forest and dragged Ifrit and his lover back to their house, the girls father was furious. The poor girl was sent away to live with distant relatives while Ifrit was framed and hung for “assaulting” a noble woman

Quick AN: I’m sorry for not posting anything recently , School kicked up hard and I’ve been dealing with some personal things. I hope you enjoy these headcanons my brain came up with. All Because I Fell chapter 4 should be coming soon, I about halfway done!

#whiskey's burbling barrel #ghost band #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #dewdrop ghoul #nameless ghoul #whiskeys headcannons #whiskey is in ouchie ouchie

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the-eclectic-wonderer · 5 months

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Oh my god the girls are so worried for Rose and Dorothy just pretended to go away to get her surprise and Rose thought the one licking her was Blanche and they got her a DOG I’m going to cry 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

#I’m watching an episode before getting ready for tonight #and I didn’t mean to comment on it #but this beginning was just too sweet not to say anything #i held strong through Blanche’s AMAZING nightgown and dorothy’s adorable excitement at jeopardy #but I just couldn’t keep my silence anymore #going back. how did rose think it was Blanche liking her and how was she so casual about it #does it happen often?? I’m DYING to know #the golden girls

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we-are-all-of-legend-now · 8 months

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Fictober Day 5: You're The Smartest Person I Know

Prompt number: Prompt #5

Fandom: American Dragon Jake Long

Pairings/Characters: Jake/Rose; Haley; Lao Shi

Rating: T

Warnings: violence; death(s); blood

You can read under the cut or click here to read it on fanfiction

"I don't know! I don't know! I don't know!"

Rose grabbed Haley by the shoulders, forcing the younger girl to look at her. "Haley, you need to focus. I know you're going into shock so take some deep breaths. You do know, you just need to take it slow. What happened?"

Haley took a deep breath, her wings flapping anxiously behind her, splattering blood on the ground. "There was someone, something in the sky with us! Then, we were on the ground and they were fighting and ... and ... Jake was bleeding and I think Gramps stopped moving and … and … I ran away!"

"Shhh, honey, it's okay," Rose said, trying to fight down her own panic. “Who’s we? You and Gramps? You and Jake?”

“All of us,” Haley sniffled.

Rose couldn’t help the way that her heart stopped and her veins went cold. She was never going to be able to be cool, calm, and confident when Jake was in danger. She wanted to shake Haley and get all the information because Rose had to go now. They were in the middle of the freaking woods on a camping trip that had been such a good idea when Jonathan had proposed family bonding. It could take hours to find them given how fast dragons moved and the fact that Rose couldn’t hear a single sound that would indicate a fight.

“Did you see what took you out of the sky?”

Haley shook her head. “Rose, what do we do?”

“You’re going to have to take me there.”

Admittedly, Rose felt better when she let go of Haley and went to get her Huntstaff. She hated to use it; she hated to remember that she wasn’t just a high school student. That being said, with who Jake was and who she was, it was stupid of her to go anywhere without it. Rose felt better armed and with something to do.

Haley was blanching, launching back into her panic attack. “I can’t – I can’t – I can’t! I don’t know how to get there or what those things were and I’m going to make it worse because I ran away!”

Rose ran her hands through Haley’s hair, snuggling the girl close, and thinking they were wasting time. “It’ll be okay. You know how to get there. All you have to do is take me there too. Don’t worry about anything else.”

Haley pulled out of Rose’s grasp. “It’s going to hurt!”

Rose gritted her teeth. Haley was just a little girl – a scared, hurt little girl. Rose strove for patience and for kindness but all she could think of was Jake.

“I know, I know, but we’ve gotta go help Gramps and Jake, right? Strength in numbers.”

Haley nodded hesitantly. “Yes, that makes sense.”

“So, let’s go.”

Haley took to the air, needing to see over the canopy of trees to try and get her bearings. Rose followed on foot, trying to keep sight of the young dragon between the leaves of the thick trees. She felt like they’d been going for hours but was probably only minutes in the dark forest and Rose no longer had any sense of where their campsite was or where they were going. Finally, Haley landed, breathing heavily, the wounds on her wings pouring blood.

“I DON’T KNOW!” she shouted. “I’m too dumb to find them! I’m too stupid! I can’t help them!”

“Haley!” Rose shook Haley’s shoulders, finally losing her temper. “You’re the smartest person I know and you are the only person who can get us there to help them. What do you think is going to happen if we don’t show up? If Jake was bleeding and Gramps stopped moving, what do you think is happening right now!?”

Haley was openly weeping; Rose would feel bad about it later. Later, when they were all safe and warm around the campfire with smores.

“They’re going to die,” Haley whispered.

“That’s right,” Rose said, trying not to feel how true those words could really be. “So, think. Where were you? What could you see?”

Haley nodded and took off into the air again. Rose ran beneath her but, this time, Rose could hear the rumble of a battle going on before they had gone incredibly far. Rose sprinted toward it, trying to make out the movements in the darkness. The bright red of Jake’s scales were the most obvious things as he grappled against the shadows. Rose caught sight of Lao Shi’s blue scales but, like Haley had said, he wasn’t moving. Rose skirted around the edges of the fight, not wanting to distract Jake, and wanting to get to Lao Shi. She was also racking her brain, trying to figure out what these pitch-black things were. Rose knelt down by Lao Shi’s side, putting her hand in front of his large nostrils but she felt no puff of breath.

Shit.

Rose stood and bowed her head, before taking her full-sized staff into her hand. Her heart hurt but she knew what her job was and what the only way to honour him was: save his grandchildren.

“Jake!” Rose shouted, hating to distract him but needing him to know she was here. “What’s happening?”

Jake spun to the side, putting the bulk of his body between Rose and whatever was happening.

Jake was heaving for breath as he panted, “I don’t know. They’re sharp and they’re vicious and I think there’s four of them. I don’t even know if I landed a blow.”

“Retreat?” Rose asked. “If we’re in their nest –”

“Tried. They hunt.” Jake’s large claws dug into the earth. “Gramps?”

“Sorry.” Jake let out a roar, sending fire over the forest.

For a moment, the world was illuminated and Rose could see what they were fighting against. They looked almost like giant bats with long claws at the very end of their wings and large teeth. They were completely black and when Jake’s fire faded, Rose was left blinded. What little adjustment she’d had was completely gone. She couldn’t see a thing except – purple.

Haley.

Rose wanted to tell Haley to get the hell away. She was too panicked. She was too vulnerable. Rose launched forward and then it was too late. She heard the screams and then she felt the blood coat her, warm and sticky against her bare face. Rose was sure there was some in her mouth and she felt like she was going to throw up. That was so much blood. And the screams had stopped.

Jake jumped over her head, launching himself into the fray again. Rose fell to her knees, crawling around on the dark forest floor until she felt Haley’s little hand. Rose pulled the body toward her, leaning her head down, hoping for a breath of life. There was nothing. Rose wanted to cry and scream and mourn but she couldn’t. Not yet. Not when there was still Jake to protect. Jake, who was her whole heart. Jake, who would never recover from this, but she had to be there to help him try.

Rose stabbed in front of her, hearing a rustle of the woods. One of the things let out a high-pitched squeal.

“ROSE! Are you okay!?”

“I’m fine! I got a hit!”

Rose could already see Jake’s red body bounding toward her, not protecting his back or his vulnerable wings. She could feel the flapping of the bat-creatures around her and she knew where they were going. She launched herself forward with a fury, thinking that she had to save Jake. Nothing mattered if she didn’t save Jake. She thought she hit one but hitting one wasn’t the same as hitting four and there was a sickening crunch as one of Jake’s wings flattened against his body. Rose punched her staff forward again, hitting nothing but air. There was another crunch and a howl from Jake. She was only seeing flashes of his scales between the bodies of the bat-creatures and she was worried about lashing out, just in case she hurt him too.

Jake started to scream, a high-pitched unholy sound that rocked Roes to her core. She knew that it didn’t matter if she hit him; she wasn’t going to do as much damage as the dog-pile that he was under. She went in swinging but it didn’t matter how hard she hit or hacked or stabbed. The creatures didn’t seem to take any damage. She made it to the middle of the pack, thinking that if she could just hit their fronts instead of their backs it might make a difference. When she got to Jake, he was nearly collapsed, his wings shredded and half his tail missing. He let out a death rattle, lacking the strength to pick himself up off the ground.

“Come on!” Rose shouted. “Jake, keep fighting!”

Deep down, she knew that he couldn’t. Deep down, she knew it was over. Rose collapsed to her knees in front of Jake, taking his head in her lap and bending over him, as if she could protect him. She put her mouth next to his ear.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you.”

Rose felt the moment that he was gone.

Rose let her tears fall as she sat up and threw her staff as far away from her as she could. If he was gone, she wanted to go too. Rose curled up against his side, closing her eyes, and waiting for the pain to come. She could hear the rustling of the creatures’ wings and then she could feel the wind as they started to leave.

“NO!” Rose howled. “NO! Come back and kill me!”

There were departing.

“No,” Rose sobbed. “No, please, don’t leave me alive!”

But, alive she was, without any of the things that made being alive worth it.

#fictober23 #jake/rose #american dragon jake long #adjl #jake long #adjl rose #rose adjl #haley long #luong lao shi #lao shi #tw death #tw violence #tw blood #my fanfiction #brea writes things #the last letter #wearealloflegendnow

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fanartfunart · 2 years

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Fly Away Episode 9: Gorizilla

Ao3

(Féline Sombre & Paon Lilas designs)

Summery: An AU where Adrien never went to in-person school, not getting the cat miraculous, and found the peacock miraculous. -Adrien attempts to get one of the key ingredients to fix the peacock miraculous without clueing anyone into what he might need them for. A trip to the Zoo is in order. (Yes I’m writing this again lol)

(tw for sickness & I’mma say some self endangerment)

Adrien paced his room, frowning, “Okay, okay, so, all I need is meteorite dust, molten gold, and a peacock feather. Totally normal items for me to ask for and not at all suspicious.”

“Yeah!” Duusu chirped, too enthusiastic, "Not suspicious at all!"

"That was sarcasm."

"I knew that!" Duusu exclaimed cheerfully.

Adrien laughed, nodding. "Okay, maybe I can just… pull some connections. Father has jewelers, I'm sure I can pop into one of those…. If I visit a zoo I'm sure I could find a peacock feather… and… meteor ….dust...is. uh. Something I'll figure out!" Adrien tilted his head, "Zoo first. That's the easiest."

"Whoooho! Let's go!"

"No," Natalie said, not even glancing at him.

"What? It's the zoo! What could possibly happen to me at the zoo?"

"Adrien, your illness got worse after your excursion yesterday. You want to add an allergic reaction to it as well?"

"That…. Is very clear logic." Adrien sighed, gritting his teeth.

Natalie looked up with a frown, "Besides, you should be on bed rest, I don't want you passing out again."

"It was a long photoshoot! I was just tired! I'm fine right now!"

She shook her head, standing up to escort Adrien to his room, a gentle hand on his back. "Come on, back to bed. Is there something else we can do to ease your boredom? A book? ...Miss Chloé might like to visit."

"No…" Adrien sighed, eyes settling on the floor. "I've got everything I could need."

"Hey it's Adrien, wanna go to the zoo with me?"

Marinette blanched, glancing at her phone to check the number, "Adrien whose phone are you calling me on?"

"Public phone!"

"Where's your phone?"

"I have it, don't worry. I just can't use it. My cell is monitored," Marinette gave Tiki a concerned glance. Adrien continued over the line, apparently unconcerned, "Anyway, will you go to the Zoo with me? We can try and get some ice cream on the way back?"

"Oh! Uh. Sure! When are you thinking?"

"...As soon as you can, preferably. I put a cardboard cut-out of myself in my bed but I'm not sure how effective it will be."

Marinette frowned, "Adrien, did you sneak out...to go to the zoo?"

"Uh," Adrien was quiet for a long moment. He whispered something, before nervously saying, "Yes?" Distantly, she could hear someone shout "Is that Adrien Agreste?" He laughed nervously "Sorry I think I have to run. I'll wait for you! Bye!"

Marinette sighed, glancing at Tiki. "Something is wrong with that boy."

Tiki gave a slight inclination of her head that might've been an agreement. Marinette shook her head and got up, "I guess a trip to the Zoo would be a good break. Come on Tiki, I've got to go tell mama and papa, unlike some boys."

Marinette glanced around the entrance of the Zoo, confused. Adrien wasn't there. She huffed. If this was some elaborate long con with him and Chloé-

"Psst. Marinette," a bush whispered.

She yelped, flailing. "Talking Bush!" She pointed her purse at it like a weapon. "I don't need magic powers, thank you!"

The bush rustled and Adrien rose from underneath it. He brushed himself off, a twig sticking out of his otherwise perfect hair. His face was a splotchy red, flushed. He looked… weirdly normal. Like a kid, not a rich model.

"Sorry," he said, "I've been getting chased around by fans and I think a few journalists. I uh…" He muttered, "Usually my bodyguard stops them from getting too close."

"Huh? Oh. You snuck out, right. What's got everyone so crazy about you?"

He laughed nervously, "I wouldn't say everyone! I'm crazy about yoooh-oh I mean you're not crazy about me! Not that I'm not crazy about you- I mean- whaaat?" he cringed. He hung his head, heaving a sigh that almost crackled with the breath, "I've had a long day."

Marinette frowned, walking forward to place a hand against his back. He straightened up; practically perfect posture. His face burned red. Marinette blinked and fumbled backward, raising her hands as if in surrender. "Oh! Sorry. I just- your breathing-"

"Huh?" He muttered airily. Almost breathlessly.

"Are you okay? You seem to be breathing weird."

He blinked and nodded, "No no I'm fine. I passed out during a photoshoot yesterday but I'm fine now!"

"What!? And you're at the Zoo running everywhere?"

He deflated, heaving a sigh.

Marinette huffed, "No wonder you look so flushed, come on, sit down. I'll call my parents-"

"No!" He looked panicked, just for a moment. Marinette frowned. He winced as he looked at her face, "Sorry I just- I really needed to get out of the house."

She sighed, and grabbed his hand to drag him to a bench, "You need to take care of yourself."

"I found him!" Someone shouted, snapping a photo, "With his girlfriend!" A crowd of chaos started to form.

"Ga-wha?! I'm not his earl-friend! Deli that! Delete!" Marinette sputtered.

Adrien grimaced and pulled her along as he raced off in a random direction, desperate for a new hiding spot. He gasped as he spotted a walk-in habitat and rushed in.

The caretaker asked something that Adrien assumed was some sort of money thing and pulled out the first bill that came out of his wallet. The zookeeper looked bug-eyed at the cash. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah sure, certain, please," Adrien said, glancing back through the window to check if his fans noticed them turn into the exhibit.

"Okayyy," the zookeeper whispered and handed them an abundance of seed sticks. "Enjoy the exhibit."

Adrien pulled Marinette in and finally had a moment of pause. He glanced at the sticks, then at the exhibit in front of them…. The aviary.

He sneezed.

"Bless you," Marinette whispered. Adrien groaned, rubbing his face. Marinette hummed and walked further in, holding out a stick for a parakeet to land on and start pecking at. Adrien glanced around. Peacock, peacock, were there any peacocks in here? He sneezed again, startling a few birds that had gathered around him. Marinette gave him an odd look.

"So. Why the Zoo?" She muttered, "Not that anybody needs a reason to go to the zoo, I just- you seem really really invested here."

"I...uh- uh achoo!" He sniffed and rubbed his eyes. "Uh. I like...birds."

Marinette giggled, "What a coincidence then. Any particular kind?"

"Peacock?" he gasped, glancing out the window to the bird strutting freely outside.

Marinette lifted her head, glancing at him, "Really?"

He sneezed again, groaning.

"Are you okay?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and held the seed stick some of the birds had landed on as far as he could. He nodded. "Yeah fine." He muttered nasally.

"Are you crying?" She whispered, glancing at his red, watery eyes.

"No, it's allergies."

"Oh! What are you allergic to?"

He sighed, bowing his head in shame, "...Feathers."

Marinette glanced at him "What? Oh my goodness, Adrien!"

He sneezed, throwing himself into a coughing fit. He dropped his seed stick and the parrot flew away.

Marinette sighed, and pulled him up by his collar. "No matter how much you like birds I'm not going to let you suffer for it." Marinette huffed, dragging him by his collar to the exit. He sneezed again.

He wheezed as Marinette finally released him into the outdoors, practically pushing him out. He stumbled forward and knelt on the ground.

"Honestly! What were you thinking?" She pulled him up, brushing off his clothes and hair, and dragging him towards a bench. He sighed, miserable, and propped his head in his hands.

"I wasn't," he muttered.

Marinette frowned, sighing. She rubbed his back. "Sorry. Are you okay? Do you need anything? Allergy medication?"

"I don't have any. I'm not usually allowed anywhere with feathers." He sighed, "Look I-" Adrien's eyes landed on a familiar hulking figure. He gasped. "Time to go."

"Huh? But none of your fans are-" Marinette gasped as Adrien pulled her along, racing along the pathway.

"Bodyguard," Adrien explained, stumbling slightly as he raced up the path.

"But won't he help with the fans?!"

"Yeah, by taking me home!" Adrien turned a corner, frantically looking around. Someone shouted his name. Marinette frowned and pulled him away, into a bush. Once hidden, she fluffed up his hair, and took off her jacket.

She tied it around his waist and got out a pair of novelty glasses. She handed them to him.

He tilted his head, "Why do you have these?"

"You'll look like a tourist, just go with it."

He shrugged and put them on. "You sure this will work?"

"Honestly I could've stopped at the hairstyle you look like a completely different person with messy hair."

He laughed. "Uh… thanks?"

She sighed and pulled him up to his feet. "How about we take a very slow stroll and then take you back home. Okay?"

He looked at the ground. "…Sorry I dragged you into this."

She smiled and shook her head, "It's been fun."

He nodded, and they fumbled their way out of the bushes. Adrien cheerfully pointed out a variety of animals as they walked through the zoo, unharassed.

Marinette chased a peacock away from them, much to Adrien's disappointment.

He bought them ice cream, much to Marinette's elation.

"So I'm guessing everyone is looking for you because of the passing-out episode?" Marinette said between bites of ice cream.

"Oh! No uh. Adrien the Fragrance came out early. Since I can't do enough photoshoots, my father is pulling from the projects that were waiting for release..." He nervously picked at his ice cream, frowning.

"I think I saw that this morning… Feathers huh?"

Adrien laughed, "Photoshopped."

"I hear models are often photoshopped a lot."

"The Adrien Agreste Trademark Brand is all naturally sourced," Adrien struck a pose and winked, earning a laugh from Marinette.

"Made out of the finest fake feathers." She giggled. It was an absolutely wonderful sound. He was determined to hear more of it. She caught his gaze and tilted her head, turning to look to her left in an attempt to follow the line of sight. "What are you looking at?"

Adrien flushed and nearly said 'you' if not for her insistence earlier that they were Not Dating coming to his mind. "Uh… looking for a peacock…"

Marinette made a strange face and smiled awkwardly, "Why do you like peacocks so much?"

He laughed, rubbing the back of his head, "Do I need a reason? They uh, they're pretty? And they can fly and a lot of them roam free in zoos which is cool. They're fun."

She nodded and shrugged, "I suppose they have their charm. They seem like nice creatures. If dramatic."

He hummed. It was quiet for a moment. What do normal people talk about at a zoo? "Uh, do you have a favorite animal?" Ugh, that's a lame question.

"I'm obsessed with hamsters."

"Oh, they're adorable!"

"I really want one, someday! I'm going to name h- oh bodyguard."

"Bodyguard is a weird name for a hamst-" Adrien yelped as Marinette grabbed his arm as his bodyguard ran towards them. The pair ran. The man got close enough to grab the jacket tied around his waist. Adrien fumbled and the knot came loose. The bodyguard was left holding a jacket while Adrien and Marinette raced off down another path.

They panted as they escaped into the Polar exhibit, and Adrien was happy to see a layer of glass between him and the penguins as he wheezed his breaths.

"Are you okay? Sorry I didn't give you much warning."

He waved her concerns away and coughed into his elbow. "Ugh my legs feel like jello," he muttered, sliding onto the floor against the wall, watching the penguins mill about.

Marinette sat next to him. He closed his eyes, head in his hands, elbows propped on his knees. "Maybe I should've stayed home…"

She sighed and leaned against him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "I can call my parents and we can play some video games. All the excitement, none of the running."

"You…still want to hang out?"

"Like I said earlier. It's been fun, I just wish you were being safe." She poked him in the side, and he wheezed a laugh.

"… I just- I wanted-" He frowned. He couldn't exactly say he needed to get a peacock feather now could he?

Marinette hummed, apparently understanding him anyway. She squeezed his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I know."

A roar erupted in the distance.

Marinette looked up "Akuma?" She glanced anxiously at Adrien and scrambled up to a stand. "UH let's find somewhere to hide."

Adrien yelped as she pulled him along.

She raced around a corner and jumped fences and weaved through crowds. She held his hand the entire time.

Thundering footsteps came closer and closer until a massive hand scooped them up. They screamed. Adrien clamped a hand over his breast pocket to protect the kwami. Marinette struggled and kicked as the hand curled around them both.

Adrien glanced up at Gorizilla, wide-eyed. "Are you… my bodyguard?"

Gorizilla humphed in response, taking them further and further away from the zoo.... Adrien watched the building shrink with a distinct sense that he would never be able to go back again. Dread welled up in him and he pushed it down.

He glanced at Marinette, pressed against him. Oh wow, they're close. His face went red. "Marinette, I'm so sorry-"

"It'll be fine! We'll get out of this." She insisted, determined.

"I- It's all my fault you're in this with me. I didn't-"

Marinette huffed, looking around her surroundings analytically, "Don't try to shift this all on yourself. Féline Sombre will find us and Ladybug will fix everything. Just. It's going to be okay." She nervously chewed her lip despite the determined look in her eyes.

He frowned and nodded "Okay."

Gorizilla leaped up onto a skyscraper and roared. Loud enough that the superheroes would have to hear.

A quiet beat. Silence stretched. Ladybug usually showed herself by now.

Without warning, Féline Sombre appeared from the shadows. Her baton poised above her head to smack Gorizilla in the head. He roared and swiped a hand at them. Féline laughed as they backflipped out of the way, extending the baton to catch herself.

"Are you supposed to be King Kong? All we need is a Helicopter!" She said, switching to walking across the top of a billboard, extending the baton to poke at the hand keeping Marinette and Adrien. It didn't budge.

"Feline!" Marinette shouted, "He's too strong! You'll need more bark than bite!"

Adrien tilted his head, confused. Feline, however, grinned.

Gorizilla snarled and broke the billboard from under her. The hero flipped so she was on top of the flat of the board.

"Cat got your tongue?" Féline chirped and they leaped up to stand on the akuma's head.

Gorizilla growled and swatted at them, only to smack himself as they jumped off and onto his arm.

She ran to Adrien and Marinette. "Alright guys, I'll get you out." She wiggled her baton between Marinette and Gorizilla's thumb, extending it to give herself more leverage.

A large hand scooped them up and captured them. "AUGH! Hey!"

Marinette looked frantic. "Féline!"

Adrien sucked in a breath, glaring at the skyline, "Where is Ladybug?!"

Féline Sombre grimaced, "She has to be on her way"

Hawkmoth's glowing light mask appeared on Gorizilla's face. "Get the cat's ring while you still can!" Hawkmoth demanded, "Ladybug will arrive soon enough."

Gorizilla humphed, thumping his fists together. Adrien waved at Feline with a nervous smile as they got brought closer. Féline struggled, ignoring the trapped pair for the moment.

Gorizilla leaned forward to scrutinize what he was doing, frowning. He did not have enough hands for this... And that ring was tiny.

Marinette looked between Féline and their baton. "Stick a fork in him!"

"What?!" She stared at Marinette for a moment, then looked up at Gorizilla. "Oh!" She extended her baton to poke him in the eye.

He dropped Marinette and Adrien with a pained cry.

Adrien struggled to keep a hold of Marinette's hand as they fell. The wind whipped around them. Adrien could feel Marinette's racing pulse against his hands around her wrist

Féline Sombre screamed, "LADYBUG?!"

Adrien looked around frantically, between Marinette and the captured Féline, "I- I… I need to tell you something!"

Marinette looked at him like he was insane. "Can it wait?!" She shrieked. She managed to grab his waist, pulling them closer.

"Du-" He was cut off by his own sharp yelp as Féline Sombre managed to stop their descent, grabbing the back of Marinette's shirt. She hung off of her baton.

"Gottcha," She breathed out softly.

"He let you go?" Marinette gasped, looking at Gorizilla on the tower.

Féline shrugged helplessly, "Hang on tight-" she pulled the pair up and closer to her, and leaped off her baton so she could make her escape down to the ground.

Adrien groaned. He heaved his breaths while he looked up at Gorizilla, half blindly fumbling down the skyscraper. "I can act as bait. He's after me. I'm sure we can figure out how to trap him for Ladybug."

"Adrien no that's-" Marinette gasped

"I'll be fine. Féline won't let me get hurt." He smiled at the cat hero, then looked at Marinette, "Go. It's my turn to protect you."

Marinette frowned, "Don't you dare do anything stupid like trying to fight him yourself."

"I won't," He said with a smile. Marinette huffed, then ran off to hide.

Féline looked up at the approaching figure and then at Adrien. "...Think you can get him to the river?"

Adrien grimaced as he glanced in the direction of the river, pressing a hand against his chest. "Maybe…"

"Lucky charm!" Ladybug yelled as she almost skidded to a halt in front of them. In a flash of light, a perfume bottle fell into her hands.

"Ladybug!" Féline cheered, "He's after Adrien and we need a plan."

Adrien frowned.

Ladybug nodded, "I've got it. Adrien, guide him over the subway. Kitty, destroy the street under him." Ladybug tested the perfume on her wrist and sniffed, tilting her head "Adrien?"

He huffed and straightened up, "Yes?"

"No I mean- the smell… it smells like you?"

Adrien groaned, "Wonderful, magic can copy Adrien The Fragrance."

Ladybug tilted her head. "I'll …figure it out. Time to get into action, he's almost here."

Adrien sighed, "Then I'll need a head start." He took in a deep breath and ran off. Féline took off after.

Gorizilla thundered close behind. Féline called "Cataclysm!" And destroyed part of the road just as Gorizilla nearly reached Adrien, falling through the gap. He growled and thrashed. Ladybug hopped over, looking for what the akumatized object could be. "Where would it be?"

Gorizilla roared and pounded his fists against the street, causing more of it to crumble. He ducked under the street. Ladybug gasped and lassoed Adrien with the yoyo, closer to herself.

The street erupted as Gorizilla's hand came out to swipe out where Adrien had been.

"Get off me" Adrien nearly hissed at Ladybug, detangling himself.

She took a step back, looking confused. She shook her head and refocused. "...He can smell you." She looked at the perfume. "AH HA! Féline, we're going fishing, grab your pole."

Ladybug grabbed Adrien by the waist and brought him up to a rooftop.

Féline held her baton out and after a moment, Gorizilla emerged from underground to try and climb out. Ladybug leaped down, emptying the perfume bottle on Gorizilla's face. He groaned and clamped his hands over his face, stumbling backward. Féline Sombre tripped him and the massive Gorilla fell to the ground with a rumbling thunk.

Ladybug searched his pockets, taking out Marinette's jacket. She tore the fabric and the purple butterfly fluttered out.

Adrien sighed and watched Ladybug purify the butterfly. He closed his eyes, lethargic. The heroes high-fived, clapping their hands together.

Féline Sombre came up to get him. "I have to go, but do you want me to take you home?"

"No," he muttered. "...my bodyguard is right here."

Féline nodded, "Okay. Good luck." She gingerly placed Adrien down and winked. Then vaulted away.

He stood there, for a moment, looking at the ground while Ladybug talked to his bodyguard. Her low tones didn't reach his ears, but he could've sworn she said Marinette's name. He raised an eyebrow, glancing up. She smiled at him, her earrings beeping, and ran off. Adrien sighed and walked over.

"I'm sorry for all the stress I must have put you through. I- I just missed my friend. I know it's no excuse- I…" He shuffled his feet, looking dutifully at the ground. "I'll try not to do it again."

A large hand clasped over his shoulder. He looked up as his bodyguard tugged the jacket over Adrien's shoulders and messed his hair up. He gaped "Why-"

His bodyguard grinned, putting a finger to his lips, and then walked off, miming searching.

Adrien grinned.

Marinette ran up to him with a wave. "You're alright!!"

He nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, I am… and I think I just got permission to stay out a little longer?"

Marinette smiled. "Sure. Let's go…" She watched him for a moment as they walked. "What were you going to tell me? When we were falling."

He stilled "...Uh…" He brushed a hand over his breast pocket. He glanced at her and shoved his hands into his pant pockets. "Just-" He shrugged, blushing, "I think you're my best friend."

Marinette looked at him wide-eyed for a moment. "Oh." She smiled. "I'm always glad to be there for you."

Adrien opened his eyes slowly. Bathed in the pink softness of Marinette's room. "I fell asleep," he croaked, voice rough, "...Sorry."

"It's fine, I think you needed it… it gave me time to make something, too."

He turned and looked at her. She was sitting at her desk, fiddling with something. "You uh. Said you liked peacocks, right?"

"...Kinda yeah."

"Well. I- found a feather on the ground when I chased that one earlier. I couldn't possibly give it to you as it was because you're allergic and that'd just be dumb- but…" She held out a charm bracelet, with a small peacock feather sealed in a clear locket, framed in gold.

He tapped the case, blinking a few times. Something wet trickled down his cheek and he rubbed his face. "Oh. This is… you made this… for me?"

She nodded "Do you like it?"

"I love it." He said softly, turning the object around in his hands. He felt breathless. Like everything slowed down. She was smiling at him. He stared at the feather secured away in the glass. Two beautiful pieces of glimmering hope. Right in front of him. "You're amazing." It came out soft.

She laughed and shrugged, and time resumed as normal. "It wasn't that hard, just had to find something it would fit in. It was more work to match the colors with the bracelet itself," She laughed again, almost nervous "...The greens go nicely with you, I think."

He smiled, and brought up the bracelet to his face, "It matches my eyes, doesn't it?" He hummed and nodded, looking back down at the object, "You're a truly wonderful designer. Really. I couldn't imagine anything better, and I live fashion."

Marinette flushed, "I-sh veb bah" She stuttered, groaned, and flopped back onto the floor "…Shut up."

He grinned and decided to give her the requested mercy, even if he really wanted to keep complimenting her. "Want to play those games we planned to do now?" he said instead.

She sat up immediately, gaze fierce and determined. An enthusiastic yes.

Later, he'll have to find something to replace the feather. But for now. His best friend Marinette just gave him the most precious thing in his possession.

#peacock!adrien #black cat!sabrina #marinette dupen chang #ml ladybug #adrien agreste #sabrina raincomprix #ml gorilla #adrien's bodyguard #I can't believe that guy STILL doesn't have a canon name #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug au #ml au #fanart's writing #fanart's fanfic #fly away

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goldenlaurelleaveswrites · 2 years

Text

Chords and Courtship ch 8

Lilac

Chords and Courtship (AO3)

I am so sorry for the wait everyone!! I didn't mean to go so long between updates. Work ended up being unexpectedly extremely busy for me, and I've also had to contend with both injury and illness (I'm all better now!). Thank you so much for your patience with this chapter. And a very big thank you to the LBSC crew for cheering me on (and putting up with me teasing them with bits and pieces of future chapters 😅😘)

I've snuck a cheeky little sneak peek at the title of a Juleka fic I'm working on into this chapter. Gold stars for anyone who can find it.

All that being said, I hope you enjoy!!

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“Did you sleep at all last night?” His fingers froze on the strings at the sound of his sister’s voice. The moment his hands stilled, a wave of exhaustion washed over him. Slowly, he blinked. And then pulled his gaze away from the music he had hastily written and looked up at his sister.

Juleka was standing in the doorway to the music room, her hair still in papers, and she was wrapped in her black and violet dressing gown. Her arms were folded across her chest, and she was glaring at him with a mix of exhaustion and annoyance.

“Not exactly…” he mumbled, ducking away from her gaze and back to the safety of the sheet music in front of him. They had gotten home from the Agreste ball at near three in the morning. And he had had every intention of going to bed for some much-needed sleep. But then his hands had begun to itch with new music. And he had instead made his way to the music room, where he had been ever since. “What time is it?”

Instead of answering, his sister stalked to the windows and threw open the curtains that had been tightly shut before they left for the ball. He hissed as bright sunlight blinded him. Blindly, he groped for his pocket watch. He blanched when he saw the time.

“If you intend to call on Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, I would suggest you hurry before you are too late,” Juleka mused. He jumped to his feet, but before he could leave the room, Juleka stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “I would suggest you take time to change, however,” she said, nodding down to his evening attire that he had never bothered to change out of.

“Yes, yes, I was just about to do that. And then I need to find Nooroo…” During their dance lesson, Kaalki had reminded him no less than three times that should he call on Mlle. Dupain-Cheng the day after the ball—which was something he would need to do if he was going to court her and had already been planning on doing—he needed to bring flowers to present to her. “Roses perhaps...” he didn’t have time to think as it was. How was he supposed to find time to put together a bouquet worthy of her if he was to make it to her home in time to call at a reasonable hour? “…or maybe-"

“Kaalki has already arranged for a bouquet for you to bring.”

“She has? But I didn’t tell her what-“ the memory of Kaalki interrogating him about flowers the previous day caused the words to die on his lips. At the time, he had thought it was for the ball arrangements. Kaalki had insisted the floral decorations were of utmost importance, and he hadn’t spared it a second thought. But now…

Now he was thankful he had been trying to think of what Mlle. Dupain-Cheng would like when he had told Kaalki what flowers would be nice for what he had thought would be the decorations.

“Don’t fret. I’ve already seen them. You chose the flowers well, though I did suggest an addition to the bouquet…”

“What did you suggest?”

But she just hummed in response before fishing for something in her pocket. She pulled out a small envelope and held it out to him. But before he could take it she pulled it back a little out of reach. “I need you to deliver this to Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. It is for her specifically.”

“I’ll give it to her,” he promised.

Satisfied, Juleka handed it to him with a private smile. “You had best be going now before she wonders why you haven’t called.”

Her words were all the encouragement he needed. In record time, he freshened up and changed into a fresh set of day clothes. And as promised, Kaalki and Sass were waiting for him by the front doors. Both were wearing smug smiles, and Kaalki was holding an exquisite bouquet of flowers.

But when he saw what he could only assume was the addition to the bouquet that Juleka had suggested, his cheeks burst into flames.

***

Alya shot her another furtive glare, but she couldn’t help it. She had thought… she had been sure M. Couffaine would come to call on her. But the morning was almost gone.

And the time had simply crawled along.

Adrien was saying something, though what he was saying, she didn’t know. She hadn’t been listening; she had been too busy trying to sneak peeks at the timepiece and drumming her fingers against the palm of her hand. She knew she should be paying attention, that she was being rude. She had managed to pay attention to Nathaniel when he spoke about his art. But even then, M. Couffaine had occupied a great deal of her thoughts.

And it didn’t mean anything that Adrien was here—despite what Alya said—he had arrived with Nino. And Nino was here because Alya was here- she always slept over after a ball. It had always been their tradition. So that they could discuss her attempts—or rather, failures—to attract Adrien’s attention.

It was a tradition she was long weary of.

And she was sure the flowers Adrien had brought for her had been at the suggestion of Nino. Or Alya. Though he might have brought them anyways. If only to be polite. But she knew they were not a sign of interest. He had given her yellow roses.

He always gave her yellow roses.

But she didn’t mind. It didn't matter- it hadn't mattered for a long time. And it didn't matter now. Not when-

Nino’s loud and hearty laugh drew her from her thoughts. He and Adrien were both laughing freely. Nathaniel’s quiet chuckles mingled with the sound. Beside her, Alya was laughing, but she could feel her friend’s eyes on her. She feigned laughter. If only to save herself from being elbowed in the ribs by Alya or appearing rude.

Though Felix seemed to have no such qualms.

She shifted in her seat, trying to angle herself away from him. But she could feel his eyes on her no matter what she did. All she could do was thank her lucky stars Nathaniel had arrived before Felix, Adrien, and Nino had. And that she was safely seated between him and Alya.

“What do you think, Marinette?” Alya had not shoved her elbow into her ribs, but she may as well have. She turned pleading and panicked eyes on her friend, searching desperately for a clue as to what the topic of discussion had been.

But she was saved by a knock on the sitting-room door.

M. Couffaine was standing in the doorway, a bouquet of exquisite flowers in one hand and his hat in the other.

She shot to her feet, despite the fact that she didn’t need to. She was vaguely aware of the fact that everyone else had risen to their feet as well, but M. Couffaine was pulling all of her attention with the way he smiled at her.

He gave a shallow bow, and she couldn’t help but admire the way his dark hair was a little dishevelled. It was so different from Adrien and Felix’s perfectly coiffed hair. It was welcoming and lived in. “Good morning, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. Mlle. Césaire. M. Lahiffe, M. Agreste, M. Kurtzberg, M. Graham de Vanily.” His gaze met hers again, and she had to remind herself to breathe. “I brought these for you…” she was already hurrying forward. Even as his voice trailed off when his eyes landed on the bouquets that were already occupying the sideboard.

She took them from him and inhaled deeply. The scent was heavenly, fresh, soft, and sweet.“They’re beautiful,” she whispered as she gazed down at them. Her eyes caught a flash of soft purple in their midst. Carefully, she grazed the delicate petals of the sprigs of lilacs with the tips of her fingers.

“I am glad you like them.” Her gaze flickered up to meet his at his soft words, and warmth tingled at her cheeks as the soft and delicate purple of the lilac sprigs was replaced by captivating blue.

A cough sent her jolting back from him, reminding her that she had other visitors.

She spun, her cheeks suddenly burning. But she could not tell who it was that had coughed. Nathaniel was shifting his weight between his feet, his eyes on the flowers in her hands. Whereas Nino looked like he was trying to look anywhere but at her or Alya. Adrien was staring in confusion at Alya… and Alya had an unusually hard look in her eyes. Her brows were knitted together in the beginning of a frown. And Felix was staring darkly at Luka in a way that made ice trickle down her back.

“It is a good thing you came when you did, M. Couffaine,” Adrien said, casting one last sideways glance at Alya before shrugging and turning Luka. “Had you been any later, we would have missed you.”

“Yes,” Felix mumbled before sneering. “Though it seems those flowers have started to wilt.” She glanced down at the perfectly vibrant flowers, “It would seem you were not eager to be here, or else you would have come at an earlier hour.”

Felix’s tone sent bristling indignation coursing through her, but before she could speak, M. Couffaine chuckled.

“I would have been here earlier,” his voice drew her back to face him like a magnet; he was smiling softly at her. “Had I not lost track of time. I was working,” he ignored Felix’s scoff, “and I did not realize how much time had passed.”

“Were you working on a new song?”

“Yes, I was. A new movement for my symphony. I’m afraid it is rather easy for me to lose track of time when I am working on a new composition,“ he explained with a bashful smile. “I find it all too easy to lose myself in the process.“

“I understand,” she murmured. She could feel a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I am the same way when I am working on a design-“

“Indeed.” She turned at the sharp sound of Alya’s voice. Her friend was giving her a strange look that she did not understand. “Perhaps you should put those in water?” she nodded towards the flowers in her hands, “And then we could all sit down again?”

“Oh! Right! Of course!”

It only took her a few minutes to put the flowers in a vase; the first thing she had done upon waking was pull out her favourite vase. And she had had it ready and waiting in the kitchen ever since.

Just in case.

When she returned to the sitting room, Nino and Adrien were engaging M. Couffaine in a lively discussion about horses. Nathaniel was nodding along quietly, and Felix seemed to be listening in with an air of bored disinterest. M. Couffaine caught her eye from the chair he had settled himself in and began to rise from his seat, but she stopped him with a gentle shake of her head.

There was no need for him to get up again. But she had to bite her lip to keep from smiling like a fool as she turned to place the flowers on the sideboard.

She pushed the horrible, sprawling arrangement of blood-red roses to the very back of the sideboard. But even at the back, it was as if the arrangement was sprawling itself out to try and choke out the flowers Adrien and Nathaniel had brought her. She shook her head with a frown before setting herself back to the task.

The yellow roses and the wildflowers Adrien and Nathaniel had brought her were shifted to the sides, leaving the centre front of the sideboard open for the new bouquet.

The flowers he had brought her were breathtakingly beautiful. Peonies, oses, and hydrangeas in soft shades of pink blended with green foliage and white carnations. And with the lilac sprigs at the centre…

“I almost forgot, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.” She turned at the sound of M. Couffaine’s voice. He was standing once more, holding a crisply folded piece of parchment in his hand. “My sister asked me to give this to you.”

Curiously, she took the paper from him and settled herself back on the settee. She folded the paper over in her hands; it was addressed to her in elegantly flowing script, and the wax seal had the shape of a violet pressed into it. Carefully, she broke the seal and opened the paper. The note was short and quick to read.

But by the end of it, she was almost bursting with joy.

She beamed up at M. Couffaine. “I would be delighted to accept!”

His brows furrowed. “Accept?”

“The invitation… for tea? Your sister invited me to tea tomorrow afternoon…”

“I believe you had said once you were settled, you would join us for a ride, M. Couffaine.” Out of all the inhabitants of the room, she did not know who was most surprised to hear such an invitation—no matter how coldly it had been stated—come from Felix. She made it a practice to avoid looking at the man, but she couldn’t help but blink at him in surprise. But his cold, unwavering gaze was locked on M. Couffaine. “You are settled in now, are you not?”

“I- we- well, yes… I am,” he sputtered.

“Then you will have no objections to riding with us tomorrow afternoon.”

“But Mlle. Dupain-Cheng is to-“

“Have tea with your sister. Surely you do not need to be there.” Felix’s face had slipped into a stony glare that seemed to suck all the air out of the room. And yet, it filled her with burning anger. Who was he to dictate how M. Couffaine should spend his time?

“I think that is an excellent idea, is it not, Nino?” She whipped her head to the side to face Alya, but her friend was looking expectantly at Nino. Why was Alya agreeing with Felix?

Nino looked something akin to a cornered squirrel; his eyes were darting around as if trying to find a means of escape. “Well… it is, but…” she could tell he was trying not to meet Alya’s gaze. But he seemed unable to avoid it. “Should we not wait until he is settled-“

“He is settled. He said it himself,” Alya said smugly, leaning back with satisfaction. “I, for one, think it would be an excellent idea for your to join them for a ride tomorrow afternoon M. Couffaine.” Desperately, she tried to catch Alya’s eye so that she might demand answers—even if silently—but her friend ignored her completely. “In fact, Nino, I insist that you take M. Couffaine riding with you tomorrow!” She attempted to step on Alya's foot to keep her from continuing. But her friend fended her off without even looking. “You can show him all the best places to ride and such. It will give you all an opportunity to become better aquatinted and such.”

She turned her attention desperately to Nino, silently pleading for him to refuse. His eyes met hers briefly before flickering to Alya. Then to M. Couffaine. And then to Adrien. When his eyes met hers again, there was a flash of an apology in them. And then he turned his gaze away from her.

“I suppose I must insist you join us for a ride tomorrow afternoon,” Nino sighed.

***

He floated through the front door, the thought of the sparkle in her eyes and the sweet smile that had crossed her face when he presented her with the flowers keeping him buoyant. To say nothing of the way she had gazed up at him through her dark lashes as she bid him goodbye. It had been a balm to the sorrow of having to depart.

He would have stayed…

But he had work to do.

He had a symphony to write.

Maybe a dozen. Or even a hundred.

A hundred symphonies lived in her eyes alone-

“Luka!” he froze at the sound of Kaalki’s voice. Maybe he should have snuck in through the back… “Was the bouquet well-received?”

Slowly, he turned to face Kaalki. She was smiling at him with a little too much enthusiasm for his taste. It was the same look she got right before she ambushed him with dancing and courtship lessons.

“She was very pleased with them…” he said carefully, edging towards the hall that would lead him to the music room. “Thank you, Kaalki. You and Nooroo did an excellent job with them.”

A pleased little smile slipped onto her face. If there was one way to derail Kaalki, it was flattery.

In fact…

“In fact, she thought they were quite beautiful. Exquisite, breathtaking even,” she hadn’t used those exact words, but Kaalki would never know. “Truly, you have outdone yourself. With the flowers- with all of this,” he said, gesturing to the mirrors and crystal and glass work that had been collected from the house and organized with military precision in preparation for the ball.

Her eyes brightened, and her face softened. She was trying to maintain an air of dignity, but he could see her softening as the praise worked its magic.

“In fact, I believe this will be the finest ball this village has seen in a long time, perhaps ever…”

Kaalki was preening now; he could see it in her face. Just one more well-placed compliment, and he would be able to make his escape without her noticing-

“Luka!” he nearly jumped out of his skin at the shock of a hand coming down to clap him on his shoulder. He whirled, only to come face to face with Sass. Who was giving him a very knowing smirk. A smirk that said he had just seen the whole thing and knew exactly what he was up to.

And there was no mercy in Sass’s eyes.

“You must tell us how it went.”

“Oh, yes!” Kaalki’s enthusiasm was back, as was her attention on him, meaning his chance of escape was gone. “You must tell us everything! How did you explain your lateness- punctuality is of the utmost importance. What did you say? What did she say?”

His eyes darted between them before looking longingly down the hall towards the music room. But it was no good. Their eyes, filled with expectation, had him pinned to the spot.

With burning cheeks, he recounted his visit to Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, finding it harder and harder to look Sass and Kaalki in the eye the further he got into the story. Sass was grinning wickedly, and Kaalki’s eyes were flashing in approval, her smile both pleased and proud.

Even the fact that there had been other gentlemen in attendance did not seem to concern either of them.

“Now, Luka, how was she holding her handkerchief?“

“Her handkerchief?” lead settled in the pit of his stomach at the look that descended upon Kaalki’s face.

“Yes, her handkerchief. Luka!” Kaalki stared at him incredulously.

It was bad enough that he had to contend with fans, but now he had to pay attention to bits of cloth?

He couldn’t even remember if she had had one with her! Much less how she had been holding it.

“A lady uses one to send messages! Much like fans,” she said pointedly. “Luka, you must tell me; which hand was she holding it in? How was she holding it-

“Kaalki, surely Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s handkerchief does not matter. You know what Juleka said-“

Kaalki rounded on Sass, her voice laden with exasperation. “Of course, I know what Juleka said!” What Juleka had said? What had Juleka said? “But that is not the point.” His head was beginning to spin again. He needed an instrument in his hands. Quickly.“When it comes to courting a lady, there is no such thing as a small or trivial detail! Nothing must be overlooked.” Now was his chance to escape. “Honestly, you are as bad as he is, Sass!”

“I-“

He did not stop to ponder Kaalki’s comment or hear Sass’s retort as he darted around the corner and down the hall. Her’s and Sass’s voices were echoing in his wake as they continued their…. Argument? Debate? Whatever it was, it did not seem it was necessary for him to be there.

And it did not matter.

He had other matters to concern himself with.

Such as his music. And what Juleka had said.

The music from a cello grew louder as he approached the music room, floating down the hall with a distinct air of mischief. He paused just outside the door. It was only a matter of time before Kaalki and Sass noticed he had escaped, and they would no doubt come looking for him. But they would never disturb him if he was working in the music room unless it was an emergency- and he knew they would not consider details from his call on Mlle. Dupain-Cheng an emergency. Or at least… he hoped not. Of course, Jules would no doubt subject him to exactly what Kaalki and Sass had been about to. And she had even less mercy than either of them.

But she would also have answers…

He threw open the doors and strode into the room.

“How was your visit?” she asked, not missing a note. But it was impossible to miss the twitching of her lips.

“What did you say to Kaalki and Sass?”

“I’m afraid you will have to be more specific, brother dear.”

“Sass said that you said…” he trailed off; he couldn’t say what Sass had said she had said because Sass had never actually told him. But the smirk twitching at her lips was enough evidence to know that she knew exactly what he was talking about.

She hummed in feigned thoughtfulness for a moment. “I say many things to Sass and Kaalki,” her smirk deepened as her bow glided, somehow smugly, across the strings. “You can’t possibly expect me to remember everything I say. Especially when you give me so little to detail with which to jog my memory, now can you?” Before he could argue, she continued. “How did she like the flowers?”

“But-“

“How did she like the flowers?”

It was no use arguing with her. Especially when she was like this. So he relented and let far sweeter thoughts that what his sister, Kaalki, and Sass were conspiring to to enter his mind.

“She loved them,” he sighed, a smile making its way across his face as the memory of the way her eyes lit up replayed in his mind. The way she had smiled when she inhaled their scent. The way she had gently caressed the lilac blooms… despite the sweet thoughts occupying his head, he frowned. “Are you ever going to tell me what the lilacs mean? And don’t think I haven’t noticed the way all the books on flowers have disappeared from our library.”

She glanced up at him to give him the briefest of smiles. One that was steeped in devilry. “Where would be the fun in that, brother dear?”

He sighed. “And I suppose it is no coincidence that Nooroo has been so tightlipped on the subject?”

She shrugged, but he didn’t miss the innocent look on her face that betrayed a complete lack of innocence on her part. “Did she accept my invitation?”

“Yes, she did. She said she is looking forward to it.” He paused. “Why did you not tell me you were inviting her to tea?”Juleka shrugged, not looking up from her sheet music. His frown deepened. “And now I’ve been roped into going riding with M. Lahiffe and M. Agreste. And M. Graham de Vanily. If I had known we were having her over for tea before I gave her the invitation, I would have been prepared and ready to say no and not been caught off guard. I would much prefer to have tea with her than to go riding with M. Graham de Vanily.”

And he would have gotten the opportunity to talk with her and get to know her better…

Abruptly, Juleka lowered her bow, silencing the cello, and looked up from her sheet music. “Who said you were invited to tea?” she asked coolly before turning her attention back to her instrument.

“B-but…” he spluttered, “I live here…”

“As does Xuppu. Should I invite him to have tea with Mlle. Dupain-Cheng and myself?”

Xuppu, like everyone else he and his sister employed, was essentially family. Xuppu had been with them for close to five years now. But he still shuddered at the thought of the boisterous and often crass man having tea with Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.

“Absolutely not.”

“Then perhaps Trixx? Or Daizzi and Mullo? Or…” Juleka looked up at him with a wickedly innocent smile, “perhaps I could see if Sass and Kaalki could find the time to join Mlle. Dupain-Cheng and I?”

“Yes, your point has been made. But I still don’t understand why you would want to have her over for tea and not invite me to join you!” He folded his arms and glared at her with all the dignity he could muster.

“Don’t be petulant-“

“I am not-“

“You are pouting,” she said mildly. “I thought you wanted me to make friends.”

“I do,” he sighed before running a hand across his face and through his hair for good measure. “I want you to be happy; and I would like you and Mlle. Dupain-Cheng to be friends.”

Juleka’s smile melted into a genuine one. “I like Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. I think she and I will be great friends. Sisters even,” there was the teasing glint in her eyes again. But he didn’t bristle at it; he was too busy entertaining the idea of Mlle. Dupain-Cheng becoming Juleka’s sister. “Having her over for tea will give me an opportunity to get to know her better.”

“I suppose you are right,” he conceded. But he couldn’t help but frown. “But promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“That you will not do anything to embarrass me.”

“Would I ever do something to embarrass you?”

***

This was a bad idea.

A terrible idea, really.

Horrible, in fact.

If it weren’t for the fact that Mlle. Couffaine was expecting her, she would have turned back and gone home already. But Mlle. Couffaine was expecting her, and she couldn’t be so rude as to not show up.

But…

What if she made a fool of herself? What if she accidentally insulted Mlle. Couffaine? Or made a bad impression? What if Mlle. Couffaine did not like her?

Then how could she ever hope to try and win M. Couffaine’s affections?

Because surely, if Mlle. Couffaine took a disliking to her, then she would tell M. Couffaine. And he seemed the sort of man to listen to his sister, from what she had seen of the way the two interacted- he seemed to hold his sister in very high regard.

Something she found very admirable in him.

And if his sister did not like her and he listened to his sister…

Yes, he had brought her flowers. Exquisite flowers. And they had danced at Adrien’s ball. Twice. And she had felt like a thousand candles had been lit in her when he had looked at her…

But none of that mattered if his sister did not like her…

She froze in her tracks, hovering awkwardly at the end of the drive that led to the front of the estate. She had cut through the meadows to save time and avoid getting dust from the road on her dress—she did need to make a good impression—but she had decided the polite thing to do would be to approach from the front and arrive at the front doors.

If his sister didn’t like her- she shook her head to try and dislodge the thought. From their brief interactions, Mlle. Couffaine had shown no signs of disliking her. She had seemed nice, if a little shy. And she had invited her over for tea after all…

But being late would be rude, which would at the very least put a damper on any potential friendship.

The thought was enough to get her moving again. She hurried along the drive, hoping she was not already late.

She was short on breath by the time she made it to the front door. But—hopefully—she was on time.

The doors to the estate were grand like the doors of Adrien’s home. But there was something warm and welcoming about them; the wood was rich and warm as opposed to the cool dark hues of ebony and black lacquer. The door knocker was shaped like a stylized star. And it was worn and tarnished in places. Showing the wear and tear of comings and goings as opposed to the mirror shine of the polished silver butterfly on the Agreste door.

Tentatively, she reached out and grasped the knocker. And she knocked.

The door was opened almost immediately to reveal a tall man with dark hair and jade green eyes. His face was completely neutral, except for the hint of a cryptic smile. Standing beside the man was an elegant woman whose posture was so perfect she would make M. Agreste seem like he was slouching.

She stood there, frozen, as the two gave her slow once-overs. The seconds seemed to stretch on for an eternity. And then the woman’s face broke into a satisfied smile, and her forest green eyes flashed in approval. The man’s smile somehow became even more cryptic. And pleased.

“I- I…” she was gaping like a fish.

“Welcome, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. We’ve been expecting you.”

“You have?” She bit back a groan. Of course, the Couffaines’ staff would know she was coming. She had been invited.

But neither seemed to bat an eye. In fact, if anything, they both seemed even more pleased. Though what they were pleased with, she had no idea.

“You will be having tea out in the garden,” the woman said, “I will show you the way. I am afraid mademoiselle could not host you in the house, as we are in the midst of preparations for the ball.”

“Right. Of course. That sounds lovely.”

“Then, if you will excuse me, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng,” the man said, nodding his head to her, “I must get back to oversee the preparations.” The man flashed her one more subtle smile before disappearing into the house.

“Right this way, if you please, mademoiselle.”

Obediently, she turned and followed the woman towards the gardens.

***

It was a beautiful day. A perfect day to go riding.

Or it would have been if not for the fact that being out riding meant he was missing having tea with Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.

And to make matters worse, he was leaving his sister alone with Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.

He had meant what he had said; he wanted nothing more than for the two of them to be friends. Juleka deserved to have friends with whom she could talk, and if he was going to successfully court Mlle. Dupain-Cheng…

It was of the utmost importance that she got along well with Juleka.

But it was also of the utmost importance that Juleka didn’t say anything that could ruin his chances with Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.

He was not stupid. He knew Juleka was in favour of him courting Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, what with the smugly given advice and exasperated reminders of courting etiquette. And the bet…

But he could not help but worry that Juleka might, perhaps… delve a little too far into her fondness for darkness in her conversation with Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. Juleka had a great love for spine-chilling stories and the generally morbid. Something he could not imagine Mlle. Dupain-Cheng fancying.

Or else… Juleka could be shy. She was a true shrinking violet- when she wasn’t a smirking violet. What it Mlle. Dupain-Cheng mistook that shyness for disinterest? What if-

He had half a mind to turn back. But he could not afford to snub Adrien and Nino. Or Felix, he supposed. So he had no choice but to press on.

He tried to focus on the fresh air, and the songs of the birds and the breeze through the tall grasses and the steady, plodding beat of Polaris’s hooves against the ground. He leaned forward to pat the horse’s neck as they crested the hill.

A little ways off, he could see three figures on horses. No doubt the rest of his party waiting for him. He took a deep breath in. As he let it go, he tried to settle his face into something polite and not like the look a kicked puppy might have- the look Jules had so helpfully told him to stop looking at her with as she finished the preparations for her tea. Once he was sure he was ready, he nudged Polaris into a trot and headed towards the other men.

Once he was close enough, he slowed Polaris to a walk and raised his hand in greeting. Adrien and Nino both returned the gesture, smiling at him in greeting. He found a more natural smile curling onto his face; it was not fair of him to be so put out about going riding with them. He could see himself becoming friends with Nino, and Adrien. But then his gaze landed on Felix, who was sneering as he gave him and Polaris a once over.

“A Clydesdale?” Felix asked instead of greeting him, his incredulity a clear mask for his disdain.“Whatever would possess you to ride a horse like that?”

“Polaris is an excellent horse,” he said cooly. He was, generally speaking, a rather easy-going man. But the disdain with which Felix was looking at Polaris, and by extension him, was pulling on a nerve. “And what is so wrong with Clydesdales?” he asked, perhaps a tad curtly.

“They are farm horses… a working breed…” Felix raised a brow, doing little to hide his sneer.

“And what is wrong with a working breed?”

“They are common. They are for… certain people.”

“A horse’s purpose does not dictate quality in my experience. I find its disposition and temperament is of much greater importance.”

“And his… pedigree?” Felix sniffed, wrinkling his nose in distaste as he looked over Polaris.

“He doesn’t have one. I bought him from a farmer in Scotland.”

“How… quaint.” Felix’s sneer told him everything. “Of course, I will not ride a horse unless it is of the highest pedigree. I do have… standards.”

“Well, in my experience,” he mused, reaching up to pat Polaris’s neck, “pedigree does not always ensure quality,” he said, looking pointedly at Felix.

Felix spluttered something incomprehensible as Nino shifted uneasily in his saddle. Adrien’s brows were furrowed, and his face was screwed up in confusion.

“Well, I suppose that is true,” Adrien said slowly, “but then, you’ve never had a dud for a horse, Felix. So who is to say for sure?” Adrien added with a laugh, seemingly having either completely missed the undercurrent of the conversation or chosen to ignore it. “He is a magnificent beast,” Adrien said, turning to look up at him from his much shorter, pure white horse. “I haven’t seen a horse that size before!”

“I suppose we will have to see if he can keep up,” Felix sniffed before nudging his showy-looking bay into a walk. “A race; to the old tree at the end of the Barbot farm.” Felix tossed a sneer over his shoulder. “I will wait for you all there,” and then he prompted his horse into a canter.

Adrien shrugged, smiling good naturally before taking off himself. His golden hair glinted in the sunlight as he cantered off.

Nino sighed. “Sorry about Felix, he is…”

He shook his head before smiling reassuringly. “I believe we both know what he is. We’d best get going before we lose our chance to catch up.” He would not give Felix the satisfaction of winning.

Nino laughed as he prompted his horse into a canter.

“Come on, boy,” he said, reaching up to stretch the spot between Polaris’s ears, “let's show M. Graham de Vanily what we can do.”

***

The woman, who she presumed was the housekeeper, led her out into the gardens. The gardens of the estate were even more beautiful than she could have ever imagined. She had seen them once, a few years ago, when Alix had dared her to go and investigate them when the estate stood empty. But she hadn’t dared go far into what had been an overgrown disaster.

But now…

The gardens were bursting with lush greenery and flowers of every colour. Climbing roses curled their way up trellises. Peonies and hydrangeas lined the walkways, interspersed with smaller flowers that had been lovingly coaxed into bloom. She could see an orchard off to one side, and what looked like an English garden near the hothouse and what must have been an orangery. Fountains gurgled happily from where they were perched on lawns or half-hidden amongst the flowers. Several times, she almost lost sight of the housekeeper because the beauty of the gardens was so captivating.

Her breath caught in her throat when she caught sight of where the housekeeper was leading her. There was a pergola that was positively dripping with wisteria. It was perched on a patio that overlooked a large pond that was blanketed in waterlilies. On the far side of the pond, towering weeping willows trailed their delicate branches in the water.

It was like something out of a fairytale. And Mlle. Couffaine looked like a queen in her deep violet gown, seated under the trailing flowers at a table set for tea for two.

Mlle. Couffaine rose upon seeing her and the housekeeper and offered her a quiet smile. Quickly, she bobbed a curtsy to her hostess. And before she could stop herself, words tumbled from her mouth in a torrent. “Thank you so much for inviting me, Mlle. Couffaine! Your gardens! They’re beautiful! The most beautiful I’ve ever seen- and you! You look lovely and-” embarrassment clamped her mouth shut.

But Mlle. Couffaine smiled a little more openly, her eyes sparkling. “Thank you for coming, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. Please, call me Juleka. If we are to be friends, we should e on a first-name basis. Should we not?”

“Oh! Of course Mlle- Juleka. Please, call me Marinette.”

Juleka smiled and gestured to the empty seat across from her.

“I shall send someone out with the tea when it is ready, mademoiselle. If there is nothing else,” the elegant woman said primly.

“Of course, Kaalki. Thank you.” Juleka and the woman exchanged private smiles before the housekeeper turned and strode away.

“Your gardens are truly incredible,” she said a little breathlessly as she gazed at her surroundings.

“They were a mess when we first arrived.”

“I remember,” she said absently before remembering herself. Heat flooded her cheeks, but Juleka just raised an eyebrow, playful curiosity glimmering in her eyes. “It was a dare,” she admitted quietly. “And a stupid one at that.”

Juleka shrugged. “Most of them are. But all the credit for what you see goes to our garden master, Nooroo. He and the groundskeepers managed to get this place under control, and he has been making improvements to the designs ever since we arrived.”

“You’re very lucky to have such a talented gardener!”

“We are,” she agreed.

The clattering of china and giggling drew her attention away from Juleka. Two women, who could have only been a few years older than her, were drawing near with trays laden with a teapot and dishes of finger sandwiches and pastries. They seemed to be trying to hide their laughter, but they were doing a poor job of it.

Once they had placed the tea and dishes of food on the table, they both bobbed curtseys to her and Juleka. But when she thanked them, their gazes immediately snapped to her. And then they descended into even more tittering giggles.

“Thank you, Daizzi, Mullo,” Juleka said with a raised brow and a look.

They both bobbed into curtseys again, and then the two of them turned to leave. But as they were walking away, they kept glancing back at her. Giggling and whispering to each other as they went.

That was… odd.

“Please,” she snapped her gaze back to Juleka, who was pouring the tea as she stared at her with a certain… intensity. “I have heard you are an excellent seamstress, but I would like to hear more.”

They fell into easy conversation after that. Juleka, as she had gleaned from the few previous conversations they had shared, was rather reserved and quiet. The beautiful woman seemed more than content letting her fill the conversation with her ramblings. But she did manage to coax her into sharing more about herself. She learned that she was a poet. And also an accomplished musician in her own right, though music was not her passion the way it was her brother’s. And that Juleka was wickedly clever.

The conversation flowed freely- or rather, her ramblings did with occasional interjections from Juleka. But as the time passed, she couldn’t help but feel something strange was going on.

It had started when she had spotted a man in the bushes. The sight of him had startled her, and her yelp had startled him into standing upright. Juleka had reassured her the nervous, fluttery-looking man was Nooroo. And he had offered her a shy smile and an apology, explaining he was cutting flowers for an arrangement.

As he had waved his spade.

And then there had been the flash of red hair she had seen down by the lake. She would have thought she had imagined it if not for the sight of some of the branches of one of the weeping willows shifting as if someone had ducked into them. Juleka had said something about their stablehand likely looking for some willow leaves and bark for the horses.

There had also been the matter of the two giggling maids who had brought them their tea.

It felt like they were being… watched. Though that was ridiculous! Why would the Couffaine’s staff be watching her and Juleka? And Juleka didn’t seem to feel they were being watched- she had perfectly reasonable explanations for all the strange occurrences. And they were all busy preparing for the ball! The housekeeper had said as much.

But still, she couldn’t shake the feeling the staff was watching them. Or at least, watching her.

And she was almost certain that the blond man in the green waistcoat and the brawny man with dark brown hair had carried that same urn past them three times now.

“Is everything alright, Marinette?”

“What?” she snapped her attention away from the men carrying the urn and back to Juleka. “Oh... Yes- yes of course…”

Juleka glanced back in the direction the men had gone, her lips forming a tight line. “Would you please excuse me for a moment? I need to speak with Kaalki and Sass —our butler—for a moment.”

“Of course!”

She watched as Juleka rose and stalked away towards the house. As she waited, she rose from her seat and crossed to the wall of the overlook of the pond. The gardens were so serene and quiet. Like... She inhaled deeply, letting her eyes shut as the scent of the gardens washed over her.

Immediately, she was taken back to the moment in the lilac woods. When she had been surrounded by flowers. When he had pressed the sprigs of lilac into her hands…

“Marinette?” she jumped at the sound of Juleka’s voice, whirling around to face her friend. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Oh! You didn’t! I mean, you did. Startle me. But it’s fine. I wasn’t paying attention!” she babbled, her cheeks growing warm once more at the sight of the smile tugging at Juleka’s lips. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Juleka said quietly. And then a thoughtful—and almost… sly?—smile crossed her face. “Would you like to see something special Nooroo is adding to the gardens?”

“Yes! I would love to!”

“Come with me.” Juleka held out her hand invitation. She linked her arm with Juleka’s and let her lead her away from the pergola.

They passed through more of the gardens, and every time they came across a new area, she was sure it would be where they were stopping. Because everything was lush and beautiful and bursting with life. She was finding herself turning a little green with envy at how beautiful the gardens were; her little balcony garden was nothing compared to the Couffaines’ gardens.

But despite her wonder and amazement at all the sights around her, she couldn’t help but notice that the gardens seemed suddenly devoid of activity. Where before, she had been catching sight of people out of the corner of her eye every time she blinked, now it seemed there was no one around.

“Where did everyone go?”

“What? Oh, Kaalki and Sass needed them to do some work indoors,” Juleka said casually, keeping her gaze straight ahead.

“Even your gardener?”

“Here we are!” Juleka said, more loudly than she had heard the beautiful woman say anything before.

She pulled her gaze away from Juleka to see what it was her friend had wanted to show her.

There were lilacs.

She was standing in front of almost a wall of newly planted lilacs with only a small opening between two of the bushes. She turned to Juleka, who smiled and nodded encouragingly. Slowly, she peered through the gap.

Bluebells, which had also likely just been planted, carpeted the ground save for a small path of grass that led to a wrought iron bench. The shrubs were still quite small. But when they were grown… they would form walls of greenery and flowers that would create a tiny, private world for whoever would be sitting on that bench.

Entranced, she let go of Juleka’s arm to step into the clearing.

When the lilacs were grown, it would be a little like the clearing in the woods…

She turned to look back at Juleka, who was looking at her with a pleased and cryptic smile.

_____________________________________________

As always, I'm not being very historically accurate, but here are any and all references I used for this chapter for those of you who are curious!

Regency hairstyling https://blog.americanduchess.com/2012/09/v246-my-regency-papillote-curls.html

Flowers Yellow roses - friendship Pink peonies - romance Pink hydrangeas - true love Pink and white roses - love and purity White carnations - pure love Lilac - first love https://symbolsage.com/rose-meaning-symbolism/ https://symbolsage.com/best-flowers-for-anniversaries/ https://symbolsage.com/flowers-mean-i-love-you/

Than language of handkerchiefs https://www.geriwalton.com/handkerchiefs-and-flirting-language/ https://cowperandnewtonmuseum.org.uk/handkerchiefs-and-their-flirty-language/

Polaris https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/315533517631880815/

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