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bbrandy2002 · 3 years

Text

Fool’s Rush In -- Chapter 16

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC

Warning: Some language, mild sexual talk

Since it’s been awhile since I last posted an update, in the previous chapter Madeleine had confronted Riley with a video after she left the ball.

Thank you @burnsoslow for the preread and beta.

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Riley sat on a leather bench at the foot of the bed with a television remote held loosely between her hands, folded in her lap.

Somehow her worn-out body managed to walk from the corridor after the encounter with Madeleine, up the many stairs of the quarters she shared with Liam and to their bedroom. The shock of the situation combined with exhaustion and throbbing pain in her lower back was secondary to the fear she felt at possibly giving up the man she loved.

With trembling hands, she had slipped the DVD into the player and watched her nightmare play out on the screen -- It was all true. Madeleine acquired an illicit video of Riley and her ex-husband that the Queen had no clue was recorded of her or existed.

Her thumb grazed over the pause button several times, but she knew pressing it wouldn’t stop the hurt and embarrassment she felt at that moment at watching her former husband violating her trust and privacy. It wouldn’t stop Madeleine from releasing the video of it to the press and public. And it wouldn't stop the love she felt for Liam -- no one was powerful enough to take that feeling away from her.

But it was those words Madeleine threatened her with that got equal consideration with that video in Riley’s mind. She tried to envision how the scenario would carry out if the video was released and for those who would be affected by it: her father, her friends, her former students.

Liam.

“It’s a shame that he’ll lose his reign, all because of you.”

“Would you really do that to Liam?”

“Do you genuinely believe you’re worth all the trouble it will cause him?”

Riley hit the pause button, her hands flying up to cover her tear-laden face as she bent over in sobs, shaking her head. She was wrestling with that inner voice, replaying Madeleine’s words like a broken record while struggling to remember everything Liam told her about trusting him and his love for her.

No matter how hard she tried to let his tender voice speak to that sacred place in her heart, Madeleine’s threats and taunts were getting the best of her. If there was even a slight possibility that the Countess was right, and Liam would get dragged through the mud in all of this, then there was no question what needed to be done.

Those scattered bricks that formed the walls she came to Cordonia with, the ones Liam had broken down, were quickly stacking up again, one on top of the other. If something didn’t happen soon, Riley would be surrounded and suffocated inside that impenetrable cocoon that initially caused herself to doubt her worthiness to him in the first place.

All of those insecurities and fears crept up faster than a flooded riverbank, and she felt powerless to stop it from rising. Even if she could, she’d never allow Liam to suffer the consequences of something she had the power to prevent. To hell with whatever happened to her, but not him. He saved her weeks ago, and as her teary gaze slid from her hands to the wardrobe closet across the room, this would be her way of saving him.

Riley picked up the remote from her lap and tossed it aside. Determined to get out of the palace and Cordonia before anyone could see her, she swallowed her anger and grief and swiped a knuckle under each eye to dry the tears shed.

She rose to her feet faster than she should have, feeling an intense shock of pain that began in her hip and shot down to her feet. There were no doubts that the fall from struggling with Madeleine injured her far worse than she wanted to admit to herself. With a shrieking whimper, she ground her teeth together and doubled over, feeling like she might faint.

Riley grasped her back and gave herself a second to breathe through the pain before straightening up and staggering to her wardrobe to pack whatever she could as quickly as possible.

_____________

Liam stepped off the dance floor with Olivia's arm curled through his and escorted her back to their table. The conclusion of the ball was nearly upon him, and most guests had already stopped on their way out to say their farewells and offer congratulatory well-wishes. When they'd ask about the Queen's whereabouts, he'd tell them she had something come up that needed her attention. No one dared press him on the issue.

Checking the time on his watch, Liam looked up as Maxwell ran over with his phone in hand and dropped into a seat. He looked curiously at the out of breath Beaumont and asked, "What's going on, Maxwell?"

"Sorry," he replied before plucking a flute of champagne from a passing server's tray and gulping it down quickly. Wiping the droplets that dribbled from his mouth to his chin off with the back of his hand, he panted. "I ran here as fast as I could. I just got a text message from Drake. He's heading back soon."

"Did he say what the results of the paternity test were?" Olivia asked.

Maxwell nodded. "Yeah. They're Bastien's for sure. Las Vegas officials are allowing Drake to leave, but they've detained Bas until he pays up the $200,000 he owes to Boom Boom. Drake's return flight is scheduled to leave tomorrow morning, Cordonia time."

Liam pulled out his wallet and tossed $100 at a smug Leo, who promptly counted them out and stuffed the bills into his pocket. "I told you those little dudes weren't mine, bro. Really, your doubt in me hurts."

"I'll admit you were right, Leo. But you do have a track record when it comes to being involved in weird stuff like this."

"Yeah, I've gotten myself into some pretty hairy shit a time or two," he laughed as the memories came to him. "Ahh, good times, good times. But, y'know, it wasn't always just fun and games with me, Liam. During those few occasions when I'd show up to train on being the top dog of this place, Father taught me several valuable lessons. Wanna know what they were?"

"Not really," Liam answered dryly, then tossed back the rest of his scotch to prepare himself. "But I assume you're going to tell me anyway."

"Damn right I am! This is good shit to know, straight from the Big Kahuna himself." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "You must never tell anyone what I'm about to share with you all. This is top secret, classified Cordonian shit we're talking about; lives are on the line here. Father would be pissed if --"

"Just spit it out already!" Olivia snapped.

"Alright, first, never jizz in a jacuzzi unless you want to be covered in a thin spiderweb-like amalgamation of your own gravy. Daddio said he learned the hard way on that one ..."

"Oh, God. Leo!" Sickened, Liam dropped his head.

" ... Next, when you kiss a woman's hand, do it on the thumb side. Most people scratch their asses with their fingers, but rarely their thumbs. I might be an exception to the rule on that one." Leo chuckled to himself. "And lastly ... Rys spermies are MEAN sons-of-bitches, and we should dip my balls in a mug of hot water every day to kill them before having sex."

"What the hell?" Olivia grimaced as she lowered her coffee mug away from her lips and pushed it away.

"My dad told me the same thing," Maxwell boasted. "Except he called them Beaumont spermies. I guess he heard the same story from someone different than your dad."

Liam lowered the hands that were covering his face and breathed out heavily, "Leo, did our father ever teach you about anything other than using protection and sex during these meetings? Anything about negotiations, taxes, treaties ..."

Leo considered him for a moment. "Nope. He said you'd do all that stuff."

Liam grumbled. "Of course he did."

Olivia looked between Leo and Maxwell and scowled. "Well, it's too bad neither of your fathers took their own advice." She grabbed her clutch from the table. "At least I'll rest easier knowing the two of you aren't reproducing. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"I'll walk out with you, Liv." Liam rose and left the ballroom, having had more than enough of his fill of Leo for the night. There was also an incredibly sexy woman upstairs he'd been dreaming of pleasing all day, and he was overly eager to make good on his promise to join her shortly.

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Liam made his way through the residential wing and down the long hallway to his quarters. While undoing his tie, he stopped midway when he noticed a vase that usually sat on a decorative table along the wall, tipped over on its side with bundles of long-stemmed roses littered on the ground around it.

As he stooped down to pick them up, he found it oddly peculiar -- they didn't just fall over like this on their own. If a member of the staff had knocked them over, they would have picked them up; he felt certain Riley would have, as well.

After rearranging the flowers in the vase and situating them back on the table, Liam removed his key card from his pocket and swiped it through the key fob next to the door.

"Riley! I'm home," he called out in a sensual tone, knowing she was most likely upstairs -- hopefully naked and ready to get her ass spanked -- and wouldn't have heard him.

Taking a moment to check his reflection in the entryway mirror, Liam smoothed back his hair and tested his breath against his palm, satisfied he was good. After a quick stop in the kitchen to grab a can of whipped cream and chocolate sauce, Liam ascended the stairs, two at a time, to his bedroom.

"Daddy's ready for his dessert ..." his exuberant voice trailed off as the sultry smirk he donned quickly faded away when he walked into an empty room. "Riley?"

Glancing around the bedroom, the en suite door was still open, and the light was off, so he knew she wasn't in there. The bed was still in pristine form and didn't look touched. He wasn't at all worried; Riley likely went for a snack, even though that thought seemed rather odd considering how adamant she was about returning to their quarters earlier.

Liam placed the toppings on a side table and slipped out his phone. He plopped down on the bench at the foot of their bed, thinking maybe he'd missed a message or call from her.

There was nothing.

He scratched his head; it wasn't like Riley not to mention to him if she'd gone somewhere, not that she had to. But in this case, she knew he'd be up soon. Thinking about the overturned vase Liam walked upon, something started to not sit well with him.

With the cell still in his hand, he pulled her contact information up. Just as he was about to hit the dial button, he heard "Liam" in a low, raspy voice.

Relief washed over him as he stood and put his phone away. "Love, you worried me. Everything okay?" Her face was ashen, and her eyes red and swollen. Liam's insides immediately clinched.

Riley didn't answer as Liam crossed the room, frantically approaching her, worry engraved on his features. “Riley, love, what’s wrong? What happened?” His eyes were desperately searching for any clue as to what was clearly something wrong with his wife.

She held out her hand, preventing him from coming too close. “Please ... don’t.”

Bewildered, he asked, “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

Riley turned her head away somberly; she couldn't bear to look at him. She had planned to get out of the palace before he returned from the ball; there was no way she would be able to face him. Liam would want an explanation that she couldn't give him. But when she got to the car, Riley noticed there was something important she forgot to give back to him, and there was no way she would take it. Maybe somewhere inside, even if she couldn't admit it, she needed to see him and do this right. “I ... have to go.” Her words were barely audible.

Liam's brows bumped together. “Go? You’re going somewhere this late? But you were tired before --”

“No,” Her head shook faster than she realized before she spat the rest out. “I’m leaving Cordonia. I’m returning to Las Vegas, and I’m not coming back.”

“Riley? What the hell is going on? You were fine and having a good time 30 minutes ago, and now, all of a sudden, you want to go back to Nevada. What am I missing here? Does this have something to do with what happened at dinner? Because I told you --”

“You’re not missing anything. I came here to prevent you from marrying Madeleine, and I did that. That was the agreement, and now ... I’m going home.”

Liam started to laugh and wagged his finger at her. “Leo put you up to pranking me? He's mad about me sending that damn monkey away and is trying to get me back, right? Because if he did, that's just … just heartless. And I don’t find it funny.”

“No, Liam.." She shook her head again. "Leo didn’t put me up to this, and it's not a prank.” Riley carefully pulled off the wedding bands she came back to give him and held them out to him.

He looked at them and gritted his teeth. “Put them back on,” he commanded.

“I can’t do that, Liam. They belonged to your mother, and I’m not taking something so sentimental with me back to Vegas.”

“You’re damn right you're not taking them back to Vegas with you because you’re not going!”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not!”

Riley choked out into a wispy sob, “I’m so sorry, Liam. I'm so sorry!”

He said nothing as he stared at her in disbelief and saw that she was serious. “Why?” He asked as his throat clenched and the first tear slipped down his cheek.

Her body felt leaden, never having seen him this shattered. “Liam, I just want to go home, okay? I mean ... this has been an amazing experience, and I’ll never forget it, but I miss my home, and my job, and my friends ..."

“Fuck your home! I’ll buy you one here that looks just like it. Visit your friends all you want ... hell, bring them here if you want to; I don’t care. That's NOT what's going on! There’s something you’re not telling me. And I want to know, NOW!”

Riley startled at his yell, wanting to hold him and make it better. “Liam, I don’t want to be in Cordonia anymore, or be the Queen, or live in this palace. I want to go home.”

He motioned around the room.“THIS is your home, Riley ... Cordonia. I’m your home! This palace is your home." Liam scrubbed a frustrated hand furiously over his face. "Again, you were fine 30 minutes ago. What changed between you leaving the ball and coming up here? You're not telling the truth for some reason, but I can’t figure out why. Did I do something to upset you? Did someone else do something to upset you?"

"No!" she responded expeditiously.

"I love you, Riley. You know that, right?" She nodded; the glisten in his blue eyes and the desperation in his trembling voice was destroying her willpower. "Do you … still love me?"

Riley slammed her eyes shut. She loved him with every fiber of her being, and to tell him so in this very moment would only serve to prolong this hellacious situation. The only way to protect him from losing everything -- in her mind -- was to let him go. He would fight her on this, and it broke her heart to see the pain and confusion in his eyes, but it had to be done.

“Do. You. Love. Me?” he enunciated his question once more. The struggle and agony on her face were evident to him.

Riley turned away from Liam and faced the door. Did she have it in her to answer that question with a lie?

"... the council will have no choice but to question Liam's decision-making abilities after not only squandering his pick of a queen on some American nobody but now one whose ass will be featured on the desktops of teenage boys across the world. It's a shame he'll lose his reign, all because of you. Would you really do that to Liam? Are you worth the trouble?"

The sadness crushed her. There was no other way to protect him. Riley swiped at her face and answered firmly.

“No.”

With that, the Queen walked out, leaving the King in an empty room with his shock, his confusion, and an unimaginable pain he'd never get over.

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Tags:

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @jessiembruno @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography @txemrn @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @yourmajesty09 @natureblooms24 @gabesmommie1130 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @kat-tia801 @debramcg1106 @shewillreadyou @choicesstan650 @emkay512 @royalromancer

Liam x MC: @cordonia-gothqueen

Fools Rush In tags: @narrytheworld @queenwalton @cordonianprincess @zaffrenotes @zilch3 @drrookie @sfb123 @secretaryunpaid

#fools rush in #Liam x mc #liam x riley #king liam #the royal romance #trr #choices trr #prince liam #bbrandy2002

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kuronanox · 3 years

Text

Every moment with you-Ukitake Jushiro

"If I had to be reborn every lifetime it would always be you."

(Your Name) sighs while sitting on the floor packing all her belongings and putting them in boxes to move out the barracks. This was the hardest thing to do, everything they shared and everything Ukitake had were being placed else where. It didn't feel right to her but and she just lost her husband and home.

She felt lifeless as Kyoraku sat across from her and frowned. Of course he was still heart broken by his best friend, his brother death. They were inseparable.

"(Your Name) I know it's hard but I promise you things will get better."

"Better said than done." She answers back but doesn't look him in the eye and folds his captains cloth placing it in a nice decorative box where she put all his special belongings.

"You will be okay out there?" He asks worriedly as she nods her head in response and rubs her red eyes from all the crying.

"I'll check up on you every often." Kyoraku sits himself up and takes one last look of Ukitake and (Your Name) house before looking down and bidding a farewell.

"(Your Name) come here." Ukitake kindly smiles at his wife as she set the hot tea down. Walking towards him he held a brush as she sat in front of him and hummed in delight.

"You know my favorite part of the day is at night and we get to spend quality time together." He says as she hums in response.

"My favorite part is waking up to you." She answers back as he chuckles and ties her hair back in a low bun as she turns towards him.

"I guess your answer is better than mine." He slightly pouts and takes a sip of the tea that was prepared.

(Your Name) curled in bed alone as she cried again they spend hundreds and years together as friends and the love of each other life's. So she asked herself how do you fully heal if you've spend most your life depending on each other.

Ukitake was no longer here, who could she depend on that was like him? His soothing voice and calming nature made her feel secure.

Looking out the window it was a starry night as she moved out to the country side to heal more. Setting up his shrine and everything else it was weird. Never had she been alone like this.

(Your Name) wondered was his soul reborn yet? Was he in Rukongai or the Human World? Either way it would be impossible to find him. There's was millions of soul getting reborn everyday.

"You're sick! I'm not letting you leave this room." (Your Name) yells at Ukitake as he coughs and holds onto his desk for support as she ran to his side and held him up.

"Yes but work comes first." He says softly and sits back down to do unfinished business.

"Honey. You've down enough, maybe it's time you retired? It's only a matter of time and you are only getting older!" She exclaims as he chuckles and swats her away kindly.

"I still look young though."

She rolled her eyes and pouted, Ukitake health was slowly getting worse but it never stopped him from working hard and supporting his squad.

There were times she worried he didn't have long to live because of how severely sick he would get at times but those thoughts she bore were heavy on her heart.

"I'm just scared...what if something bad happens to you?"

Ukitake looks up to her and grabs her hand gently with his and kisses it.

"I'm here right now that's all that matters."

"But what if there comes a time you aren't no more?" She questions as he knits his brows to find words to say.

Ukitake didn't know what to say because he also knew.

"You know I'll always have you and I'll be somewhere better." Although those weren't the words he wanted to say the truth had to be told as she looks down and nods.

"I love you." She whispers and he smiles.

"I love you too."

Waking up the sun peaked up as she groaned and looked towards her side.

"I guess its still a habit. I can imagine you here but you aren't here."

Getting ready for the day she had a unexpected visitor. Well it was expected but he didn't tell her.

"Good morning!" Kyoraku happily says walking into her new place as she smiles back and lets him in.

They both said their prayers to the shine before setting up the table to eat breakfast.

"How are you holding up?"

She wanted to lie but didn't know how to.

"It's okay, I can't say I haven't stop crying and doing old habits but I think being out here is better and getting the fresh air feels nice."

The older man hums in response and stares out to look at the flowers scattered everywhere. "He would have loved it out here."

"I know... that's why I decided to come out here. It's more like 'you've worked hard let's go rest somewhere peaceful now' I know it's time for me to rest also."

Kyoraku smiles and then looks at Ukitake picture.

"He's smiling down at us (Your Name) theres no need to torture yourself no more."

She rolls her eyes playfully and looks at the picture too before grinning. "I know but it's hard."

"I'm not leaving him!" (Your Name) screamed at Kyoraku as Ukitake prayed to Mimihagi as to becoming the right hand of the soul king.

"I promised him you would not die in this war!"

(Your Name) cried as she watched Ukitake sacrifice himself and suffer in pain.

"You knew and didn't tell me, you guys both knew! How could you let me leave him like this." As she cried and fell on the floor.

Kyoraku grabbed her forcefully as she struggled to get loose and she screamed in pain.

"I'm not letting him leave by himself."

"Don't be selfish (Your Name) you aren't thinking! He's doing this for the sake of Seireitei! He's doing this for everyone! For you!" Kyoraku yells at her as she looks away and cries into his chest.

Glancing back at Ukitake she wasn't sure if he was still physically here.

Wiping her tears she cooled her head and nodded.

Kyoraku left as she signed and laid in bed. She would go back to work when she was fully healed but as of right now she didn't wanna do anything.

Life at this point had no meaning to her if he was gone.

"I promise you I'll get better."

50 years later

It took her a few years after Ukitake death to piece herself back together, during the time she went back to being a shinigami and full filling her duties to protect souls and those she loved.

There had been a disturbance in the world of living so her and few lieutenants were sent down to the world of living to check it out.

"I feel a high reitsu coming from the west." Hisagi says as him and Kira went to check it out.

"I'll check east and Renji will go south." Rangiku tells (Your Name) as she nods and follows north.

It had been many years since she was last down here. It had been during Aizen's battle.

"The human world has changed quite a bit."

After reporting a few suspicious incident to Kyoraku she watched the sunset alone waiting for the others.

A man in his 30s walked by her reading a book, he was smiling peacefully with his hair tied in a low pony and a nice button up.

The white hair tamed.

She gasped slightly as he looked up to her and his eyes widen a bit.

"You can see me?" She asks questioning him.

"I can see you, Ive seen many things since I was a child." Ukitake laughs not fazed a bit from her outfit and sword.

She felt happy tears fall from her eyes as he jumped a bit afraid he had hurt her feelings because she was dead and he wasn't.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so happy. You're alive."

He tilts his head in confusion as she wipes them away.

"My name is (Your Name)." She introduced herself as he kindly bowed

Although she wanted to bring him back he had a different life here and showing them together would only confuse him.

"Your name sounds familiar to me." Ukitake says as she sadly smiled and lied to him. "Maybe it's common around here?"

"No it's pretty unique. I've heard it somewhere." He says but can't seem to connect the clues.

Oh how was the world was cruel to them both at this moment. She would have to remember all the memories of them as his was mixed with confusion and facts.

"Do you believe in rebirth?" She then asks him as he nods his head. She took a deep breath and said the following words Ukitake told her before his death and sacrifice.

"If I had to be reborn every lifetime it would always be you."

Ukitake touches his head as it started to feel a bit dizzy and she held him and he gasps. He knew for sure something about her was familiar but he was getting frustrated not being able to figure it out.

Tears fell from her face as Ukitake eyes were watering. "Why am I crying? My body is doing it on its own."

Ukitake was beyond confused but she wouldn't let him suffer no longer. She knew he was safe and happily healthy living down here and that's all she needed to know.

"I'll wait a few more years for you and then we'll meet up there."

Ukitake looks at her and reached his hand out. He didn't want her to leave this comforting feeling and Ukitake knew he knew her somehow but he can't remember.

Kissing his forehead she took one last glance and disappeared.

"I'll see you then my love. I'll watch over you till it's your time and then we can finally be together again."

Ukitake looks up to the sky as the uncontrollable tears fell from his face and he tried his best to compose himself. He just couldn't as he cried, he felt something from her and he would have to wait.

As much as he wanted the pain to leave, his own heart neglected his mind.

"I'll see you again (Your Name)."

(Authors note: Oo so sad, Ukitake is literally so precious, he didn't deserve death.)

#bleach #tite kubo #bleach x reader #bleach oneshots #bleach oneshot #bleach imagine #bleach imagines #bleach ukitake #jushiro ukitake #jūshirō ukitake #ukitake jushiro #bleach Jushiro #bleach Kyoraku #shunsui kyoraku #kyoraku shunsui

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hysterialevi · 3 years

Text

Hjarta | Chapter 18

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

THE NEXT MORNING

SIGURD’S CHAMBERS

Eivor pried his eyes open to a slit, immediately squinting in the sunlight that hit his face.

His fingers twitched with movement as his body returned to a state of consciousness, and his dreams vacated the stage that once sat in his mind. A subtle itch tickled the surface of his skin due to the strands of hair that dangled in front of his nose, and out of the corner of his eye, Eivor could see lingering smoke trailing from the dead embers of a torch once set aflame.

It was a calm morning, despite the mournful nature of the clan. A light breeze traveled swiftly throughout the empty halls of the longhouse, and distant chatter could be heard from the villagers who had already risen. It was the start of an ordinary day, and yet, Eivor had no motivation to see it through.

He just couldn’t stop thinking about Thora and Ulfar.

Even though he managed to distract himself for a while with Sigurd’s company, the pain was inevitably sinking back in, and it felt as if a boulder had planted itself on top of his chest.

There was no way to fill the new absence stalking his every move; no way he could ever see Thora or Ulfar again. Both of them were gone, and he had been left behind. He was stuck in this realm with nothing but the memories of those he had lost, and the only thing that could help him was the hope of putting Kjotve down for good.

Thankfully, Eivor wasn’t completely alone just yet.

Resting gently over his hip, the young man felt the weight of Sigurd’s arm pressing down on him like a protective shield, holding him close in a world that was constantly trying to separate them. His breath kissed the back of Eivor’s neck at a steady pace, and a soothing warmth surrounded their bodies due to the blankets barricading them from the cold.

It was surprising to see that Sigurd hadn’t taken his leave, Eivor thought. Part of him had been expecting the prince to vanish like he did on the day of the wedding, and yet, he was here, keeping him company without any worry of judgement. His mind remained buried under dreams of war and mayhem, and his eyelids fluttered with the vivid images that flashed in his head.

He looked to be at peace, despite the turmoil brewing inside him. His expression was devoid of any usual disturbances, and Eivor’s comforting presence only helped to bring him more solace.

In addition to the relief Eivor felt upon seeing Sigurd however, the young man also couldn’t ignore the guilt he carried for taking the prince away from Randvi.

Gods only knew what that woman was going through right now. In a single day, she had lost both her blood-sister and father figure -- and unlike Eivor -- she had to deal with the pain alone.

She didn’t have anyone in her chambers to provide her with company or a shoulder to lean on, and Eivor began to wonder if he should’ve been ashamed of himself for robbing her of that.

Perhaps it was a mistake to stay with Sigurd for the night. Perhaps he should’ve simply gone to the temple like he planned, and left the prince to his own devices. Maybe then, Randvi wouldn’t be forced to endure all this grief alone. Eivor may have cherished every moment he spent with Sigurd, but he didn’t wish to do it at the expense of his sister’s well-being.

It was Randvi that Sigurd was supposed to be with, after all. And Eivor couldn’t help but question the morality of what he was doing.

“...Eivor...?” The older man suddenly murmured, causing the Wolf-Kissed to glance over his shoulder.

He came face-to-face with a pair of heavy-lidded eyes, and smiled faintly upon hearing the man’s words.

“Good morning, love.” Eivor said, rolling onto his side. “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

Sigurd chuckled, though it came out more like a grunt due to the sleep that still fogged his mind.

“...You didn’t wake me up. Truth is, I barely slept. My dreams were plagued with nothing but nightmares. I hope you had a better night.”

“I’d be lying if I said I did. All I could think about was Thora and Ulfar. About how they died.”

“I know what you mean. I can’t stop thinking about Dag either. It’s been hours since he first went silent, and yet... his final words refuse to leave me. It’s like he’s still here, berating me for everything I’ve done. Every time I close my eyes, my dreams take me back to the Tears of Ymir. Part of me feels as if I never left.”

Eivor snuggled up in Sigurd’s embrace, bringing himself closer to the other man.

“...We will get through this, love.” He reassured. “I know it wasn’t easy, but you gave us a chance at victory when you slew the traitor. Now, Kjotve has no allies within our walls. He’s completely by himself. And we have his son as a prisoner. We still have hope of winning this war... and it’s thanks to you.”

Sigurd raised a hand to Eivor’s cheek, gently caressing it with the back of his knuckles.

“I hope you’re right. The last thing I want is for all our sacrifices to be in vain. We can’t accept defeat now. Not when we’re so close.” The prince sat up from the bed, causing his hair to slip from his shoulders. “But for now, let’s simply focus on honoring our dead. There are many farewells that need to be said before we take things further with Gorm, and I’d like to see Dag off on his journey to Hel. He may have been a traitor, but even he doesn’t deserve abandonment in death.”

Eivor’s mood soured at the mention of Dag’s name. In spite of his agreement to granting the man a place at the funeral, he couldn’t help but feel contempt for him after everything he and Gorm did to Thora.

“Do you think Dag would’ve done the same for you?” Eivor questioned.

Sigurd hesitated, not failing to notice the sharpness in his tone.

“I... I honestly don’t know. Did he even love me in the end? Or did he view me as an enemy? A foe that he needed to eliminate?” The prince combed a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. “I’d like to believe that he would stand by my grave in death, but in reality, I suspect he would’ve been the one to send me there.”

Sigurd rose from the bed and reached for his shirt, shaking his head in sorrow. “Gods... how did things go so wrong...?”

He pulled the piece of clothing over his torso, preparing to take his leave.

“Anyway, I’ll let you get dressed. I imagine my father will be awake by now, and I’d like to have a few words with him before we depart. Meet me outside when you’re ready to go. We can walk to the funeral together.”

The younger man followed suit and threw his legs over the edge of the bed, dreading the near-future. He didn’t want to attend the ceremony alone, but he also worried that he wouldn’t be able to keep his composure in the presence of Thora and Ulfar.

“...Alright.” He said plainly. “I’ll find you when I’m ready, Sigurd.”

The prince leaned down and placed a kiss on Eivor’s forehead, bidding him farewell.

“Take care, Eivor. I’ll see you soon.”

~~~~~~~~~~

ONE HOUR LATER

THE DOCKS

Walking along the edge of the ship, Ingrida’s boots quietly thudded against the wooden floor as she tended to the pyres, preparing them for their final departure. She scattered a mixture of herbs and petals at the base of the structures, whispering a series of prayers under her breath.

Her heart ached beyond words to see three of her beloved clan members sharing a ship to the gates of the afterlife. Thora, Ulfar, and Eirik all lay side-by-side in the center of the vessel, decorated with an abundance of gifts that the villagers had left for them. They had axes, shields, food, riches, armor -- every possible boon they could use in the next realm. Their bodies had also been adorned with a handful of sweet-scented flowers, and their hands had been arranged to hold the swords in their grip.

Meanwhile, Dag rested alone in a separate ship docked on the other end of the harbor. His boat had been left barren of any gifts or offerings, and the only attention he received was from scornful villagers who were irked to see his presence at the funeral. His pyre looked about as empty as the frozen sea before them, and it appeared just as cold.

Luckily, despite the animosity the clan held for Dag, Ingrida hadn’t yet forbade herself from saying a prayer for the man. Even though he was directly linked to the death of her son, she still saw it fitting to bless him with one last prayer, as well as the dignity of being sent on a proper vessel. She carried less than no love for the dishonorable traitor, but did not wish to defile his grave, lest she cause Sigurd even more pain.

“Wherever the bridge may guide you,” Ingrida whispered, walking up to Thora, “whatever obstacles you may face, know that your memory has been marked in our clan, sister. Your words, your thoughts, your actions -- they will all continue to live among us even though you have returned to the gods. Your spirit will become as natural as the trees around us, and your name will be shrouded in the honor that was robbed of you in death. May you find peace under Hel’s gaze, and may your axe never thirst for battle. You are free now.”

The woman brought her attention to Eirik, crumbling at the sight of her son.

“Oh, my son...” she murmured, “forgive me. I never thought it would end like this. I never thought it would be me who tended to your pyre. I wanted to watch you grow old. I wanted you to enjoy the life I had given you. I wanted better for--” Ingrida’s voice faltered, causing her to pause briefly, “--you deserved... better than this. You deserved happiness. I only pray that the gods will grant it to you someday, and that we will meet again when death takes us both.” She slid a hand down Eirik’s cheek. “Rest well, my son. Your struggles will not be everlasting.”

Turning to Ulfar, Ingrida cleared her throat and took a deep breath, regaining her composure for one final farewell.

“And my dear friend, Wulfgar,” she said. “I know you were fueled by hatred for many years before you came to us. I know you carried an abundance of regrets. But as the Valkyries guide you to the Hall of Valor, I hope you can find forgiveness for yourself. Even though you were not exempt of flaws, you were one of the best men I had ever the pleasure of meeting. You were a venerable husband to Linnea, and a loving father to many of the children here.”

She sighed, placing a delicate hand over the hilt of Ulfar’s sword. “I do not know whether you will meet the Christian god or be accepted into the Allfather’s arms, but either way, remember that redemption walks with you, drengr. Your faults have been amended, and your shackles have been broken. May your freedom guide you home.”

Stepping away from the pyres, Ingrida said the last of her prayers and decided to leave the bodies alone for now, admittedly somewhat overwhelmed by the grief that was starting to sink in. For days, she had been focusing on the preparations for this funeral, and yet, nothing could’ve fully braced her for the severity of their losses.

The old völva had overseen multiple burials in the past, but she had never attended one with so many familiar faces. Thora, Ulfar, Eirik -- they were all vital people in her life. She watched them grow, she watched them cry, she watched them change. A part of her soul was attached to the three of them, and now... she had to watch them leave.

It was the hardest farewell she ever had the burden of bidding, and she hoped it would be the last.

“Ingrida?”

The seeress whirled around at the sudden greeting, not realizing that she had company.

“Oh, Eivor,” she said upon seeing her guest’s face. “I didn’t notice you were there.”

The young man approached her, keeping his hands linked in a respectful manner.

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” he explained. “I saw that you were saying a prayer for them.”

Ingrida glanced back at the fallen warriors’ bodies, nodding morosely.

“...Indeed. I just finished saying goodbye to Wulfgar.”

Eivor cocked a brow at that. “Wulfgar? You mean... Ulfar?”

Ironically, his question only seemed to garner more confusion from the old woman.

“He never told you?” She asked, clearly surprised.

“Told me what?”

A look of understanding spread across Ingrida’s face. “Forgive me, young cub. I assumed you knew of this already. The two of you were like father and son, so I simply thought...” she shook her head, returning to the topic. “Anyway. Tell me, did Ulfar ever reveal that he originally came from a Saxon family?”

“Yes,” Eivor recalled. “He mentioned that before.”

“Well, his name was Wulfgar before he was adopted by the Norse. He always asked me to refer to him as that in private. It may seem like an odd request, but I think it helped him preserve some semblance of who he once was.”

“I... I never knew that. Ulfar didn’t tell any of us.”

Ingrida gazed at the raider’s lifeless face, tilting her head out of empathy.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. He had a dark history before he married Linnea and joined our clan. He probably didn’t want to frighten you.”

Eivor’s curiosity got the best of him. “Can you tell me what he did, exactly?”

The seeress fell silent due to hesitance. “I... don’t think I should, Eivor. I don’t believe it would be my place. If Ulfar felt the need to keep it hidden from you, then perhaps that’s because he meant to take the secret to his grave.”

A hint of disappointment sank into Eivor’s mood, but he respected the secrecy nonetheless.

“...I understand.”

Ingrida offered another possible answer. “If your curiosity is truly piqued though, I’d recommend asking your father. Arngeir is also aware of Ulfar’s past, and he was much closer to him than I. I think he would be more suited to tell the story -- if you are willing to hear it.”

“I am. I’ll ask him about it later. Thank you.”

The woman crossed her arms and took a moment to examine Eivor, suddenly switching the subject when she noticed that he was alone.

“But enough about that. Where is Sigurd?” Ingrida questioned. “I expected him to come here with you.”

The inquisitive spark in Eivor’s eyes dimmed at the observation, and he took a slow glance at the nearby longship.

“He’s paying his respects to Dag.” He said, gesturing to the traitor’s pyre. Ingrida followed his gaze, watching as Sigurd said his goodbyes.

The downhearted prince was currently kneeling in front of the wooden tomb with his head hanging low, and a hand over Dag’s wrist. His face was hidden from the world due to his crouched position, and at the moment, all Ingrida could see was a slight quiver shaking the stillness of his shoulders.

“...His eyes burned bright with the heat of Muspelheim itself...” Ingrida whispered in revelation. “Oh, that poor man. I now understand what my vision meant. I understand what it was trying to say.”

Eivor gave the woman a puzzled look, intrigued by her train of thought.

“What do you mean?”

Ingrida brought her focus back to the young man and closed the distance between them.

“The night before Sigurd arrived, the gods sent me a dream about him. Do you remember? It was just before Freya’s statue fell at the temple.”

Eivor nodded. “Yes, I remember.”

A hint of caution took hold of her tone. “...Dag’s death will only fuel the fire already raging in your prince, Wolf-Kissed. I know I advised you to stay away from Sigurd in the past, but now, I suspect you’ll be the only one capable of pulling him back from the edge. Do not allow him to get lost in the dark. He’ll be leading us into battle not too long from now. Please, do what you can to ensure that his mind stays whole.”

“Of course, Ingrida. I--” he stuttered for a second, hesitant to be completely open, “...you know how I feel about him. I’ll try my best to help him.”

That seemed to bring relief to the seeress. “Thank you, Eivor. We need both of you if we’re going to win this war. Take care of yourselves in the storm to come. We’re almost through the brunt of it.”

Bringing their conversation to an end, Ingrida placed a soft hand on Eivor’s arm and guided him away from the pyres, stepping back onto the docks as the clan gathered for the final farewell. A line of archers had already taken their position at the front of the shoreline and set their arrows aflame, preparing for the upcoming ceremony.

“Come, young cub. It’s time to say goodbye.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Standing just beyond the tide’s reach, Eivor and Sigurd watched the funeral from afar as gusts of icy wind danced throughout the village, causing their capes to billow in the breeze. Specks of snow fluttered from the muted sky hanging above them, and in the distance, Eivor could see a number of dockhands pushing the ships away from the piers.

It almost would’ve been beautiful, if it weren’t for the morbidity of their gathering. The ships glided across the glassy surface like swans in a lake, and their hulls split the sheets of ice blocking their course. Ravens soared alongside the majestic sails as if Odin himself were guiding their departure from Midgard, and within moments, the archers had already prepared their first volley of arrows.

“Aim!” One of the warriors commanded, his voice thundering across the beach. A chain of flames immediately rose into the air, pointing directly towards the clouds.

The ships ventured a bit deeper into the ocean, causing waves of white foam to spurt around them.

“Loose!”

Releasing their grip on the bows, the archers sent a storm of arrows flying into the sky as their fiery tips set the heavens aflame, painting the atmosphere with what looked like a thousand suns. Their reflections bolted across the sea like streaks of ember, and soon after, the ships were engulfed in a cloak of fire.

Little by little, the sparks spread throughout the vessels’ entire structure, igniting everything they could touch. They easily latched onto the fallen warriors who occupied the pyres, and consumed their hollow shells like webs of frost crawling across the ocean.

It was a display fit for the gods themselves. The ships wandered like a pair of beacons shattering the dark, and Eivor could only hope that the divines would accept their new arrivals with open arms. These souls had officially traveled beyond the mortal realm, and now, their threads in the tapestry of fate had been cut.

It was finally time for Eivor to let them go. The very same war that had taken these people in the first place still burned with an unbridled fury, and it wouldn’t be long before they had to confront it once and for all.

The only thing they had to do now was get Gorm to talk. His forked tongue hid behind a guise of feigned ignorance, but Eivor knew better than to believe his twisted claims.

That man knew where Kjotve was, and he knew how to lure him out of the shadows. His information was the key to winning this war, and neither the Wolf-Kissed nor the Raven Prince would back down until they got what they wanted.

It was their only chance of survival at this point, and the last obstacle blocking their way.

~~~~~~~~~~

LATER THAT DAY

THE DUNGEON

Shoving the barred door open with a firm push, Sigurd ducked under the low frame and slipped into the room, lighting the way with a torch as Eivor followed him from behind. The weathered hinges of the door squeaked sharply in the looming silence, and a soft rattle bounced off the walls as their prisoner struggled in his chains.

Gorm was completely alone down here. Not only had he been deprived of any human contact, but the tight bricks of the dungeon had also sealed out any intruding sunlight. His hands and feet had been tied down by harsh shackles, and a rough cloth had been wrapped securely around his eyes.

Despite Gorm’s recent arrival though, it looked like someone had already visited him. In the flickering glow that radiated from Sigurd’s torch, the prince spotted fresh cuts and bruises littering the prisoner’s skin. Tiny droplets of blood stained the collar of his shirt, and by now, a slick sheen of sweat had formed on the man’s bony chest.

It wouldn’t be difficult to interrogate this man, but that didn’t mean Sigurd would go easy on him.

“Heh,” he said with a chuckle, holding the torch closer to Gorm’s wounds, “looks like someone had a talk with you already. You been having company lately, Kjotvesson? Or were our men just a bit too rough when they dragged you off the longship?”

The prisoner groaned in irritation, recognizing his captor’s voice. “...Gods above. As if my first conversation wasn’t bad enough. Now you’re here too? I’m not going to talk, Sigurd. The jarl couldn’t beat it out of me, and you won’t either.”

“Ah, so it was Arngeir who did this. I should’ve guessed.” The prince paused briefly. “...You’re lucky, you know. Not many people in this world have the same level of patience as our jarl. If it was my daughter you had killed, I would have flayed you alive.”

Gorm scoffed, shifting in his seat. “You? Everyone knows you’re soft, Styrbjornson. You couldn’t even save the jarl’s daughter from being killed. What makes you think you can get me to talk? Just throw your punches and leave me alone. You won’t get anything from me.”

Sigurd knelt down, leaning towards to the man as he spoke. “...We are one step away from winning this fucking war against your father after decades of suffering because of it. This is the closest we’ve ever been to victory in years, and the only thing blocking our path right now... is you. If you think I’m going to walk away after everything we’ve sacrificed, you are sorely mistaken.”

The prince stood up from the floor. “You can either tell me Kjotve’s location, or I can make you scream it. Either way, we’re not leaving this room until you give us what we need.”

Gorm picked up on that. “We?”

Eivor stepped forward, joining Sigurd’s side. “I’m here too, Gorm.”

“Ah, the Raven Prince’s whore. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here. I know you follow Sigurd around like a lost pup, always pining for his attention. Word spreads quickly, you see--”

Sigurd threw a quick jab at Gorm’s cheek, silencing the man in an instant.

“Well you won’t hear anymore about us from now on. Your ally is dead, Gorm. We found him.”

That seemed to instill a sense of alarm in the prisoner. “...Ally?”

“Yes. Dag.” Sigurd clarified. “I know he was aiding you. I know he told you about the assault on your father’s fortress. But he’s dead now. You no longer have any friends here, Kjotvesson. There’s no one who can rescue you.”

The pace of Gorm’s breath quickened at the news, and his jaw clenched in fear.

“...So. What is it you want, exactly?”

“Have you not been listening to a word I’ve said? Tell me where Kjotve is, and all this comes to an end. It’s that simple.”

Sigurd reached down, ripping Gorm’s blindfold off with a harsh tug.

“We’re running out of time...! I’m giving you one last chance to tell us the information we need, but after that--” he yanked out his axe, “--I start hacking.”

Still, the prisoner resisted. “...Y-You wouldn’t. You don’t have the stones.”

The prince smirked. “Don’t I? Let me tell you something, Gorm.” Sigurd raised the axe to the other man’s face, positioning it right underneath his chin. “Just yesterday, this axe was buried in the heart of my brother. I put it there... after he confessed his treachery.”

It didn’t take long for Gorm to put the pieces together. “...Dag was your brother?”

Sigurd nodded slowly. “Not by blood, but that didn’t mean anything to us. We were still family. We still shared a bond. In the end though... he proved to be a danger to our clan, and so, I cut him down in one strike.” His eyes narrowed in rage. “...I was willing to execute a man I had known for all my life, purely for the sake of protecting this clan. He meant the world to me, and yet, I still killed him with my own two hands. What makes you think you stand a chance?”

Gorm scooted back in his seat, plastering himself against the back of the chair in an attempt to get away from the redheaded viking.

“You’re out of your mind, Sigurd.”

“All the more reason for you to give me what I want.”

The prisoner was quiet in response, leading Sigurd to shrug in a casual manner.

“Fine. If that’s how you wish to do things...”

The prince brought the torch’s flame to his axe, heating up the edge until it was red hot.

“W-w-wait!” Gorm exclaimed. “Wait!”

“Having second thoughts, Kjotvesson?”

“I-- look, I can’t tell you!”

Sigurd removed the axe from the fire and grinned, brandishing its scorching blade to the man.

“What’ll your father do? Kill you?”

Eivor laughed lightly, undeniably amused by Gorm’s squirming. “He’ll be lucky if he’s still alive by then.” His tone hardened. “Maybe we should string him up and leave him outside. Give him the same treatment he gave to my sister.”

Gorm shot him a glare. “Oh, you’ll join her soon enough, Wolf-Kissed. Don’t think this is over. Just because you’ve survived this long doesn’t mean--”

Sigurd pressed the axe down on his arm, causing the man to let out an anguished shout.

“Shit!” Gorm yelled, jolting violently in his restraints. The prince removed the blade after a moment and stepped back, leaving a prominent burn on the surface of his skin.

“If you’re done barking, I’d like to hear what we came for.”

“...You’ve lost your mind, Sigurd...!” The prisoner panted out, still dazed from the pain. “I’ll kill you for this. You and your whole clan!”

The redheaded man grabbed him by the collar, yanking him closer to his face.

“Tell me where Kjotve is! Now. Unless you want me to start slicing.”

Gorm turned away from Sigurd, doing his best to avoid eye contact with him.

“I... can’t!”

“Well, you will. I don’t care what kind of threats your father has made. You will tell us what we need to know, one way or another.”

The prisoner hesitated. “But why should I? You’ll kill me anyway! I’m as good as dead no matter what I do. I may as well keep silent.”

“Because your fate has yet to be determined. Cooperate with us, and perhaps I can grant you a faster death. But if you resist, I’ll have no choice but to keep this going. So save us both the trouble, and just tell me where Kjotve is.”

Gorm trailed off into silence once again, reconsidering his approach. He still appeared reluctant to comply with Sigurd’s demands, but his eyes flicked around the room in a way that made it clear he was slowly changing his mind.

“You... you promise you’ll give me a swift death if I tell you how to find my father? Is that what you’re saying?”

Sigurd looked directly into Gorm’s gaze, taking on a more sincere tone.

“...You have my word.”

The prisoner took the answer to heart and cursed quietly under his breath, frustrated at the dilemma that had been presented to him. He knew he was dead regardless of how the future unfolded, but he wondered if there was a chance he could find mercy in the hands of a proper executioner.

“...Damn it all.” Gorm finally said. “Fine. I’ll... I’ll tell you what you want to know. But you must keep your word.”

Sigurd waited patiently for a response. “Well? Where is he?”

The other man’s head drooped in shame. “...My father is sailing west. To England.”

That took the prince by surprise. “England? What in Hel’s name is Kjotve doing all the way out there?”

“He has allies in that country,” Gorm explained. “And they’re more than just simple raiders. His allies in England are part of something far bigger than you could ever anticipate. They will destroy you if he manages to rally them in time.”

Eivor crossed his arms in thought, suddenly feeling less confident. “...Shit. He must be miles ahead of us by now.”

“Actually, he could still be within your reach. I don’t think my father has officially embarked just yet. He mentioned stopping by an island along the way; to gather food and supplies before making the journey. You could still catch him.”

Sigurd stepped away from Gorm. “Then we need to leave immediately. We can’t allow Kjotve to sail into Saxon waters. If he makes it there, we’ll have lost him for good. There’s no way we could hunt him down in English territory without sparking another war.”

Eivor brought up another subject, slowing the prince down before he could get too far ahead of himself.

“Wait, what do we do about him?” He asked, gesturing to Gorm with a jerk of the head.

Sigurd eyed the prisoner up and down, contemplating how to dispose of the man. When he first set foot in the dungeon, he had originally planned to finish Gorm off with an axe to the chest -- similar to the method he used for Dag -- but now, he was having second thoughts.

“...We’ll let my father decide.” He settled with.

Eivor had to admit, he wasn’t expecting that. “Your father?”

Sigurd took a calming breath, thinking back to his conversation with his lover earlier that day. “He’s right about me, Eivor. I’m too impulsive. If I’m going to inherit the crown someday, I must learn to wield more restraint. Gorm murdered someone from our kingdom, so my father will determine his fate in a trial. Seems only fitting, seeing as how he’s the king.”

The younger man was pleased to see that the prince had taken his advice so seriously.

“A wise choice. We should inform Styrbjorn right away, then. We have no time to lose.”

Gorm jumped back in. “Wait! What if the king doesn’t allow me a quick death like we agreed?”

“I’ll explain to him the deal we made,” Sigurd assured. “My father is a man of honor, despite some of the things he does. He will understand.” He brought his attention back to Eivor, continuing their conversation. “Anyway, could you speak to Arngeir while I find my father? If we’re going to catch Kjotve on time, we’ll need everyone to be prepared. Everyone.”

“Of course. I’ll let him know of the plan.”

“Thank you.” Sigurd walked past the Wolf-Kissed, halting in his tracks to whisper something in the man’s ear. “Meet me on the hill outside the longhouse when you’re finished. There’s something I want to show you.”

Eivor nodded, whispering back to him. “I’ll be there.”

“Then I’ll see you soon, my love. But for now, let’s just focus on preparing for the upcoming battle. This war isn’t going to get any easier in the next few days, but if we’re lucky, it’ll end soon. Kjotve is hiding just beyond the horizon. We can’t let him escape.”

#hjarta #assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #eivor wolfsmal #eivor wolfkissed #eivor varinsson #male eivor #sigurd styrbjornson #sigurd x male eivor #ac valhalla fanfic

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goddesofimortality · 4 years

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Just Watched Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms

And first off all, how dare this movie make me feel.

The artwork was beautiful and the characters were great.

Just look at these backgrounds!!

And the characters were absolutely adorable and felt... organic? Real? I loved them all!!

I’ve never written a movie review before but I hadn’t seen anything about this movie until it popped up in my recommended list on YouTube, and I felt like I had to tell you guys about it.

Summary

Maquia is a young girl from a clan of long living beings called the lorph, or the Clan of the Seperated. One day, after an attack leaves her on her own, she finds a normal baby and decides to raise it as her own. Thus, the bond between Maquia and Ariel begins.

In my opinion the plot was quite nice, and it gave you a chance to get to know the characters a bit and relate to them while combining their individual point of views on the story. It felt compelling and personal in a way I can’t explain.

Information about The Movie

Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms or さよならの朝に約束の花をかざろう (Sayonara no Asa ni Yakusoku no Hana o Kazarō) litterally translates to "Let's Decorate the Promised Flowers in the Morning of Farewells"

Officially abbreviated as Sayoasa (さよ朝)

Written and directed by Mari Okada and Produced by the company P.A works

Released February 24, 2018

Final Note

I highly recommend you guys watch it!

#maquia #maquia when the promised flower blooms #sayoasa #maquia movie #movie recommendation #sayonara no asa ni yakusoku no hana wo kazarou

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daylightsun · 4 years

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A Late Review and Introduction to Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms

Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms, also known as Sayonara no Asa ni Yakusoku no Hana (Let's Decorate the Promised Flowers in the Morning of Farewell), is the directorial-debut animation film by Mari Okada. Released last 2018, and produced by P.A works.

I happened to stumble this title months ago when I was looking for an animated film to watch. And to be honest, the first I saw the trailer, I knew it will be a good film. Immediately place it on my to-watch list, it took me some months to finally sit and bask in the full glory of this film. Since Mari Okada, is also known as the scriptwriter behind the infamous tearjerker Anohana: The Flower We Saw That Day, I already expecting Maquia to be a film that would make me cry as well, and my expectations were met (by the way, I think Okada have something with flowers, eh? XD).

Now the pleasant introduction is done, let me dig into my thoughts and feelings about this fantasy film. The first thing that caught my eye the beautiful visual backgrounds this film has. Every background for each set is a superb artwork. I hope while watching that these backgrounds would be available in a puzzle, and I would buy all of it then patiently build each one and display them on every available wall. The animation is fluid, and the character designs are on point, making the film a visual masterpiece.

The first scene in the film showing the land of the Clan of the Separated

But the visuals are just one of the aspects that made this film amazing on its right. The story of Maquia, a 15-year-old orphaned Iorph girl from the Clan of the Separated, is a tale that will etch in one's heart. It tells the endearing narration of legends, which held any civilizations together. The wonders of magnificent creatures and the magic of old wherein Maquia is on the brink of extinction.

The Kingdom of Mezarte who was once a superpower because of their possession of wyverns called Renato is at the end of its glory. A disease called Red Eye is taking the Renatos one by one forcing it near to extinction. Looking for a way to stop their power from crumbling, the kingdom searched for a solution in the faraway lands of the Clan of the Separated where a group of special weavers resides.

The Iorphs are blessed and cursed with longevity (their elder is said to be around 400 years old) and youth. Their weaving called Hibiol contains century-old messages that only people from Maquia's clan can read. Every day their lives are spent in making Hibiol and living peacefully away from the rest of humanity.

A view inside the Hibiol Tower. Hang are Hibiols containing centuries of history and stories.

However, their serene way of living is disrupted when Mezarte decided to forcefully take female members of the clan to choose a wife for the Mezarte's crown prince, believing that it will strengthen and keep the bloodline ongoing. Maquia, spared from the chaos between the royal guard and her people because she accidentally locked in Hibiol tower, was unfortunately dragged by an ill and frantic Renato away while below the tower the rest of the clan is being torn apart and their land burned to the ground.

Dishearten and hopeless, Maquia is about to give up when she heard a cry of an infant. Still clutched in the dead arms of the mother, Ariel as later named by Maquia, will be taken by her to be her son. A child raising a child, eh? But this is where the movie revolves, the endearing strength of the love of a mother to her child. Deciding to be a mother of an orphan child at such a young age and being a child of a seemingly youthful girl who does not age a bit is no easy journey to take. But Maquia and Ariel were never alone. Even if Maquia is an outcast, good people help them every step in the way.

Maquia and baby Ariel, facing the dawn.

Maquia with dyed hair, with her new found family.

Moreover, even with this superb main narrative, Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms do not only stand on this alone. Aside from the amazing main story and superb visuals, the side characters and their plotlines are as excellent as Maquia and Ariel's plotline. Leilia, Maquia's adventurous friend who is unfortunately chosen to be Hazel, the Mezarte's crown-prince wife, had her daughter but forced to be locked in the tower after serving her purpose. And Krim, Leilia's childhood sweetheart whose failed attempts to save her drive his love into a destructive obsession that directly contributed to the fall of Mezarte at the end of the movie.

Leilia jump to freedom.

Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms is a fantasy animated movie with layers of narration focused on female storytelling, and the fall and rise of civilizations. However, at its core, it is a story of what makes the love of the mother special, and how this love can transcend time and conflicts. A child can reject his mother, but a mother whose decision is firm in loving a child even without blood relation will continue to persist and give.

At the end of the movie, when Maquia delivers the line, "I'm glad I have love. I'm glad that I loved him," I was already drowning in my tears and snout.

Maquia breaking her promise to Ariel in the end

References

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maquia:_When_the_Promised_Flower_Blooms

https://variety.com/2018/film/reviews/maquia-when-the-promised-flower-blooms-review-1202879491/

#Maquia #maquia: when the promised flower blooms #mother's love #mari okada

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phinexa-rose · 3 years

Text

The morning of farewells

Let’s decorate our farewell. Let’s have the flowers bloom and the stars shine. Let’s have the sun rise and the clouds mute it’s brightness. Let’s decorate and commemorate our last goodbye.

There’ll be only one of us remember it. Only one to break our promise not to cry. So let the one that left forgive the one that’s left for crying after their goodbye.

If there are no stars out, let tears that glisten shine instead. If there are no chrysanthemums, let dandelions decorate the dead. If there’s no lover to hold my hand, let my mother kiss my head. If there is a person there to hear, let ‘I’m home’ be the last thing said.

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arcanjarei · 5 years

Photo

🌸 さよならの朝に約束の花をかざろう

like/reblog if u save

#さよならの朝に約束の花をかざろう #maquia: when the promised flower blooms #Maquia #flower #girl #icons #icon #icon with psd #Let's Decorate the Promised Flowers in the Morning of Farewells #movie #anime #sayoasa

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ericsonclan · 3 years

Text

A Visit to the Bakery

Summary: Minnie goes out to buy some bread and meets someone very special in the process.

Word Count: 2905

Read on A03:

Minnie rose with the dawn. It was how she had lived her entire life no matter the circumstances. Living on the street, she’d been sure to wake first each morning to go scouting for food and supplies for the other street rats. She would wake Sophie and they’d head out together, searching for whatever measly scraps they could to survive another day. When she and Sophie were taken by pirates and later on during her time with Lilly and the Delta pirates, Minnie had been expected to pull her weight each and every second of every day. There was never any rest, no time for reflection on the hell her life had become, no peace.

Now she awoke in her own bed, feeling the sun’s rays warm her face as she shuffled out from under her covers. She had a bed of her own for the first time in her life and a roof over her head. She even had her brother back by her side. Tenn was sleeping peacefully in his own bed, a calm smile on his face. She’d let him sleep a bit longer before waking him and asking if he’d like to go to the market with her. Minnie’s eyes drifted over to third bed in the room, now empty. She missed having Sophie around each and every day, but to know that she was living her life doing what brought her the most joy gave Minnie a deeper sense of happiness than she’d felt in the last several years.

Rising to make the morning tea, Minnie tucked her bedsheets back in place, moving around softly for fear of waking Tenn up. He had always been an extremely light sleeper. Minnie approached the cupboard in search of the kettle. One of the pans slid against another as she pulled them out, causing Tenn to stir in his sleep. His chin raised, revealing the beginning of the scar that ran from the base of his chin to the top of his cheekbone. It still haunted her that she’d giving him that mark, taking off a piece of his ear in the process. Tenn had told her countless times that it didn’t matter to him, that the scar had no effect on his own life or happiness, but it still served as a constant reminder of the person Minnie had let herself become.

It was strange living in this cottage, carrying out a peaceful existence by the sea, when their very benefactors were those she had hurt the most. Minnie wondered where they were now. They’d visited a few months ago, so it was probably nowhere nearby. Sophie was likely up by now as well, sketching the sunrise or helping with the morning chores. Minnie hoped the others were doing well too: Mitch, Violet, Willy. The last time she’d seen them, Willy had sprouted up to nearly her height. She’d wanted to say something to him about how much he’d grown, but she saw the fear in his eyes when he looked her way. As much as she might wish them well, Minnie understood why the other street rats no longer trusted her. She’d harmed them too much for things to ever be the way they used to be between them.

She still had her siblings though: Tenn in body and Sophie in spirit. Knowing her sister loved her despite all she had done gave Minnie hope whenever the despair and self-loathing became too much to bear. Taking a seat at the table, Minnie pulled her hurdy gurdy into her lap, playing a short tune as she waited for the water to come to a boil. Sophie had picked the instrument up for Minnie on a whim one day at the market. Minnie hadn’t know what to do with it at the time, but over the months her fingers had began to master the dexterity needed to pluck at its strings and direct the crank embedded in its side at the same time. The tune she played was soft, haunting. It was a ballad she’d heard long ago and had been trying to remember.

The whistle of the teapot went off, bright and cheery. Minnie set aside the hurdy gurdy, rushing to take the kettle off the heat to quiet it. Tenn was already stirring too much though; he was truly awake now. After a few moments he entered the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of one of his eyes.

“Morning,” His voice had grown deeper over the years as he’d grown, but his voice held the same comforting cadence it always had.

“Good morning. Sorry I woke you,” Minnie placed tea leaves to steep within the water then went searching through the cupboards for something suitable for breakfast. “We should have enough for today, but it’s looking like we’ll need to do another market run soon. Would you be interested in coming with me?” Minnie popped her head out of the cupboard to catch Tenn glancing wistfully out the window. “If you don’t, it’s fine,”

“Oh, I can go with you, Minnie” Tenn’s tone was sincere, but Minnie knew him too well to not recognize when he was hiding something.

“You already have other plans, don’t you?”

“It’s just… the sky is so clear today. Was hoping to finish that painting I set aside weeks ago. I haven’t seen that same hue in forever,”

“You should go for it then,” Minnie pulled some bread and cheese from the cupboard, cutting them into slices. “I know how much it’s been eating away at you not being able to finish it. Besides, we could use more pieces to sell anyway,” They did their selling on different days than their shopping. They’d head down in the next couple days to set up their stall and sell their crafts and wares.

“Thanks, Minnie. You always know just what I’m thinking,”

“That’s a big sister’s job, silly. Now let’s eat,”

---

After a pleasant breakfast Minnie bid Tenn farewell and headed out with the large wicker basket to restock their food. Walking down the path from their cottage, she could feel the sea breeze brush at her bangs. The smell was as salty and rich as ever. Despite all the horrors she’d suffered in her life on sea, Minnie still found herself fond of the smell. There was always the promise of something new in the air when living by the shore. She was glad they’d been able to find an isolated plot as well. Even in a quiet port town, Minnie often found the presence of so many strangers overwhelming. Years of bodily and emotional trauma had left her with a limited amount of energy each day. Most times Minnie fell short of what she wanted to accomplish each day because of the chronic fatigue. She preferred the peace and familiarity of her newfound home to the streets of Halverport, but the shopping needed to get done.

Walking familiar streets, Minnie followed her regular route to get everything that was needed. Most of the sellers were familiar with her now, but Minnie still noticed the stares of passerby as they caught sight of her scarred face. She couldn’t blame them. The burn marks were severe, far worse than you’d expect to see on a young woman attending the market. Minnie had accepted them long ago as an everlasting symbol of her betrayal. She’d earned them in the same fire that took most of Violet’s sight. It was only right for her to bear the weight of that guilt in physical form, not simply within. Still, the stares wore her down. They were the only reason Minnie occasionally considered growing her hair out to better hide those scars. Instead she kept her head low and focused on the task at hand.

She’d almost found everything she needed when Minnie found herself stuck on the last item on her list: bread. She’d planned to drop by the normal stall she frequented where the sweet old lady that ran it always slipped an extra roll or two into the basket for her and Tenn. However, the woman was nowhere to be seen today. Minnie hoped she was alright. She didn’t want to travel all the way back up to the cottage with no bread, so she’d have to venture further and find another seller. Swallowing a lump in her throat, Minnie made her way further into the village, hoping the search wouldn’t be long.

Luckily, she was able to spot a bakery only a few streets over from where she usually shopped. Minnie stepped inside hesitantly, hoping the prices wouldn’t be too high and she could at least get enough for her and Tenn until selling day rolled round again. The shop was quiet as she entered, likely having just opened given the early hour. Was there anyone in here at all? Where was the seller?

“Hello?” Minnie called, her throat feeling dry and her voice rather rough.

A girl immediately emerged from the back room, brushing flour off of her hands. She looked to be about Minnie’s age, with warm brown eyes and hair that was pulled to the side in a bun decorated by a single flower. Her face was still covered in flour, but she seemed unaware as she smiled at Minnie. “Well, look at you! A new face come to frequent my bakery! Don’t get a lot of those around here,”

“The woman I usually buy from wasn’t there and-” Minnie cut herself off. This girl didn’t need to hear the entire story, just her order. “I’ll take three loaves of bread please,”

“Alright, what kind? Rye? Wheat? Pumpernickel? Sourdough? Baguettes?” the girl prattled on for a minute before her face fell slightly, recognizing that she was overwhelming Minnie with the list. “Oops, I got ahead of myself, didn’t I? You probably just want some brown bread, am I right?”

Minnie nodded silently. “If you don’t mind,”

“Of course not! Anything for a customer. You know what…” the girl looked around for a moment at her empty store then lifted the part of the counter that could be raised to step through, motioning for Minnie to follow. “Since you’re an early bird, why don’t you come on into the back room and pick out the loaves you like best?”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly…”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! I’ll even throw in some free samples!” The girl was smiling so brightly at Minnie she couldn’t find it in herself to say no. Awkwardly she stepped forward, following her to the back room. “I should probably introduce myself,” the girl called back as she led the way. “My name’s Renata. Yours?”

“Minerva,”

“That’s a pretty name. It suits you,”

“T-thanks,” Minnie found herself distracted as they entered the back room. There were dozens of racks everywhere full of all sorts of breads, sweets and other delicacies.

Renata looked around the room with a proud smile. “Magnificent, isn’t it? Back when my parents ran the place we used to be able to fill up the entire room, but I think I get by alright,”

Oh. Were her parents dead then? Was it expected to say something in condolence to her? Before Minnie could think on the matter further, a warm roll was thrust into her hands.

“Here. Something to munch on while you look around,”

Minnie slowly bit in. The warmth of the bread immediately filled her mouth, filling her with a sort of comfort deep inside. Minnie found a smile crossing her lips, mirroring Renata’s own smile in some small way.

“Good, right? Secret family recipe,” Renata lifted a finger to her lips, winking playfully at Minnie.

Minnie swallowed too fast and choked a bit on her mouthful of bread.

“Are you OK? I’ll get some water,” Renata rushed to get a cup, offering it to Minnie before she’d had time to regain her composure. All she could do was nod and accept it gratefully.

“So, Minnie, tell me about yourself. You can’t have grown up around here, so what brings you to Halverport? Do you live here?”

“Up in the hills along the shore,” Minnie answered. The roll had already been consumed. She meant to start looking for the loaves she needed, but Renata had already placed something new within her hand, this time a sticky bun.

“I love it up there!” Renata exclaimed. She gave an encouraging nod when Minnie looked unsure about the bun. “Sometimes I climb up that way to bother all the seagulls. I didn’t know there was anyone living up that way,”

“Not many do,” Minnie took a bite of the bun and her eyes widened in surprise. It was utterly delicious, even more so than the bread. Renata grinned as she saw Minnie take another excited bite.

“The buns are my favorite. The secret is cinnamon, but a healthy dose of sugar also helps,”

That must be it. Minnie had hardly ever had any sugar in her life. Being given something so sweet and syrupy out of the blue was an unexpected gift. Or was it a gift? Minnie eyed Renata with caution. What did this girl want? Minnie clearly didn’t have the look of someone with money. Did she want a favor then? The bun was already gone, decimated in the throes of Minnie’s excitement. “I can pay for that,” Minnie offered.

Renata waved a hand dismissively. “Like I said, they’re free samples. It’s nice having company in the kitchen again. I should probably get you that bread though, huh?” Renata grinned sheepishly and Minnie found herself regretting that she’d gotten her back on task.

They headed over to the regular loaves. Renata motioned at them grandly. “Take your pick,” she said, stepping to the side.

Minnie certainly wasn’t a bread connoisseur. She picked up a loaf or two, tapping on it then placing it back. Was that the way to test bread? She caught Renata smirking and immediately felt her face burn in embarrassment.

“Want me to pick the best ones out?” Renata offered.

“Please,”

As Renata leaned forward, rummaging through the bread racks, Minnie caught a whiff of something that reminded her of the sticky bun from minutes ago. It couldn’t be the bread though; they were a good distance away from the sweets section. What was that special ingredient Renata had spoken of? Cinnamon. The answer came back to Minnie all of a sudden. She looked over at Renata who was busy critiquing the loaves intently. She smells like cinnamon .

“Here we go!” Renata declared, holding forth three loaves of brown bread in her hands. “The best of the day,”

“I’ll take them,” Minnie began to transfer them over to her basket. She was taken by surprise when Renata used her now free hands to grab hold of Minnie’s and pull her back over to where the sweets lay.

“I’m gonna give you a few more goodies for the road. Gotta make sure you come back for repeat business. And I won’t take no for an answer,” Without waiting to hear Minnie’s protests, Renata began stuffing treats into the top of her basket. She stopped for a moment, looking up at Minnie. “Is it just you at home or do you have family?”

“Just my brother at home,”

“Then I’ll have to pack extra for him!” Renata picked up a loaf and displayed it proudly. “I’ve been told my banana bread’s the best in town. It’s cuz of the cinnamon again…” her voice dropped down to a conspiratorial whisper. “But don’t tell anyone, k?”

“O-OK,” Minnie couldn’t help but feel flustered as she smiled back at Renata. She’d just come here for some loaves of bread. What was even going on? “I should probably get going. My brother will be wondering where I am,”

Renata’s face fell at the news. “Oh… ok. I’ll see you out then,” Quietly she made her way to the front, Minnie following closely behind. Had she insulted Renata by saying she had to leave?

Minnie looked back worriedly once she’d stepped through the divide between the front and back of the store. She found Renata smiling just as brightly as ever though.

“Come back anytime, OK? I want to hear what your brother thinks of my famous banana bread,”

“Will do,” Minnie felt the tension leaving her gut knowing she hadn’t overstepped after all. “Thank you for all the free samples,”

“It was my pleasure,” Renata reached up to itch her nose and looked at her hand in surprise when she saw all the flour on it. “Gosh, have I had this much flour on my face the entire time? I must’ve looked like a clown!”

“No, I thought you looked nice,” Minnie froze at her words. What was she even saying?

The sentiment seemed to be appreciated by Renata though. She smiled brightly at Minnie’s words. “Really? I’ve have to be wearing more next time you come by then too,”

“Alright then,” Minnie wasn’t sure why she was agreeing, but who cared at this point? Nothing seemed to faze Renata anyway. With a final wave, Minnie exited the store. Her feet felt light under her feet as she started the walk home. Usually a grocery run like this would have completely wiped her out for the rest of the day, but Minnie felt a renewed sense of energy now. She wanted to play music or paint… something. She was feeling inspired.

#twdg #fanfic #a pirate's life for me au #twdg minnie #twdg renata #twdg tenn #twdg minata

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