#rona x din | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wall-maria-fritz · 3 years

Text

The Wingman (Erwin Smith x Marie)

Chapter 6: The Scout

Reposting this because I am officially overhauling my @levi-lives blog, in lieu of this one because SOMEONE Tumblr won't let my posts show up from there anymore! grrrr.

@levi-lives blog is still up tho, if you would like still see my original posts

THE WINGMAN MASTERLIST

A/N: FINALLY! So remember when I said this chapter was only going to be 5k words? WELL BEEYATCH IT’S 6.5K WORDS HAPPY UPDATE, HAVE A NICE DAY. In retrospect, it seems like I can only seem to write when I’m heartbroken and depressed, haha *sweats nervously at my 27 remaining chapters* But hopefully this thick boi of a chapter would be worth the wait! I’m just a little swamped these days, thanks to Ms. Rona’s world tour so updates are pretty sparse. But don’t you worry child, bc I still plan on finishing this baby. Music Inspo: Dream Sweet in Sea Major by Miracle Musical Crime by Private Island Do It All the Time by I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME The Boys Are Too Refined by The Hush Sound The Other Lover by Little Dragon

The Wingman Playlist

Chapter 6: The Scout

Krolva District, Wall Rose

Spring, 825

“Mama, why can’t I go to school with Papa and Derek yet?”

Erwin whined in his little voice. His chubby little legs were swinging and bouncing up and against his bum from where he was sprawled out on his mother’s Persian carpet, with his favorite picture book of The Secret Garden opened in front of him—Erwin has always been an avid reader. And he loved The Secret Garden best of all.

Agatha Smith looked up from her paperwork. As Krolva District’s council chairperson, she’s been busy reading through district reports all morning. For the most part, her son has been quietly reading his book like the good boy he is. But Agatha knew her son, and it was only a matter of time before her little genius started asking her the curiosities which—how Erwin would say—‘bugged his mind.’

“Because you’re still little, darling. You’re just three years old!” Agatha smiled brightly at her baby, hoping it would help convince Erwin why he can’t go join his father and brother yet. Although, Agatha tried to ignore the twinge of sadness in her stomach at the thought of her son growing up.

She was perfectly fine with her baby staying home, and keeping her company; safe in her home office for the rest of forever.

Erwin meanwhile, as much as he enjoyed reading and coloring in his mother’s pretty office—with all the big books, the many vases full of flowers, and the ever-present smell of strawberry tea—still wanted to go on the adventures Derek would tell him about whenever his brother comes back home in the afternoon.

School just sounded so fun to Erwin! He wanted to play with kids like him, and read more books!

Erwin puffed up his cheeks, ‘It wasn’t fair. How come Derek gets to go, all because he’s older?’

“But I thought you said I was a big boy already!”

Agatha tried to hide her smile at Erwin’s quick retort. Her son has always been a clever boy.

“Well, you need to get just one more year bigger,” the boy’s mother says, as she held up one finger.

Erwin pouted. His cheeks were starting to grow red; the boy was going to cry.

“ookay, ookay,” Agatha immediately stood to scoop up her son the moment she saw him rubbing at his blue eyes. She repositioned him at her hip, and peeked into the little boy’s clear blue eyes.

Her husband’s eyes.

Tiny drops of tears were already rolling down Erwin’s chubby, red cheeks. Like tiny little diamonds.

Agatha cooed, “I’m sorry you can’t go with Papa and Derek yet, but don’t you like staying with mama at home?” Agatha’s cobalt eyes peeked into Erwin’s. Erwin nodded, still swiping his small fists at his tears.

“How about Mama makes you your favorite strawberry pie, huh? Would that make you feel better?”

Erwin’s teary eyes looked up at his mother, “You’ll make me lots?”

His mother only ever gave him one slice since she’s very particular about making sure her boys are eating healthy.

And anyways, as a working mom, having two sugar-rushed boys isn’t going to help her productivity. Nor does she want them to be spoiled.

It’s a different story for Erwin’s father, though. Jonathan was really a child himself, and saw no problem in giving his sons a few extra slices of pies.

As long as his wife never finds out, of course.

Agatha pauses at the request. Lots of slices meant lots more strawberries to pick. She glanced back at her pile of paperwork, and all the district proposals waiting for her approval to peruse. Agatha knew she simply did not have the extra time to pick strawberries.

“Well, then why don’t you go ask Sibyl to accompany you to pick yourself the juiciest, sweetest strawberries we have, yeah? Don’t you want to pick the best ones, Erwin?”

Erwin immediately perked up, “Yes, please Mama! I want to pick the strawberries!”

And just like, Erwin’s little legs ran him out the room and to his nanny for an hour of chores.

Not only did she calm her son down, that was also one task off her planner. Agatha patted herself. ‘Nice save, Mrs. Smith.’

When Jonathan and Derek arrived home that afternoon, Jonathan immediately sought out his wife, who was at the patio overlooking the garden. She was busy setting up tea and freshly baked pie slices for her two other boys, while a little Erwin was already happily scooping up the last of his strawberry pie.

Jonathan kissed the top of his wife’s sandy blonde head, and patted his younger son’s golden one.

“Someone’s been chowing down!” Jonathan’s laughter seemed to boom to Erwin’s ears. “Wow! Seems like Mama’s been spoiling you today, huh?” Jonathan’s clear blue eyes crinkled tenderly as he watched Erwin drop a big strawberry into his tiny rosebud mouth

“PIES!!!”

Derek immediately ran and seated himself down the moment he saw the treats. He excitedly took a teaspoon, started scooping himself big portions of strawberry pie.

“Hey young man, kiss mama first,” Jonathan chides his eldest. Agatha bends down, and soon enough Derek gives his mother a kiss on the cheek. Though, the kid was didn’t even look away from the treats.

Jonathan was about to say more, but his wife just patted his chest sweetly, and mouthed, ‘it’s fine.’ The parents watched their kids eat, while gently reminding them to slow down and make space for dinner.

In the middle of tea time, with his mouth full of strawberries, Derek exclaims, “You won’t belieeeeve what Papa taught us today, Erwin!”

Erwin looked to his brother in wonder, “Tell me, tell me!” Erwin caught his mother’s disapproving look.

“…please?”

Before Derek could gulped down what he was chewing, Jonathan already cut in. “Aww, don’t tell spoilers, Derek.”

“Spoilers?” two pairs of little clear and cobalt blue eyes looked to their father.

“It means, let your brother find out our lesson himself once he’s your age,” Jonathan says as he gives Derek a little tickle. Derek giggled happily.

“Awwwwww,” Erwin whined, knowing he’d have to wait a while, seeing as Derek was already six.

“But I wanna know, Papa,” he pouted.

“Want to,” Agatha corrected.

“I want to know, Papa.”

“Alright, alright,” Jonathan gave in. He couldn’t really resist his sons. “How about I tell you the Legend of King Arthur and The Excalibur tonight. Does that sound good?”

The boys cheered, already babbling how that was their favorite story, and how excited they were for bedtime. Another tactic Jonathan picked up from his clever wife to get the boys into bed.

“As long as,” Agatha cautioned within the din of giggles, “You smarty-pants go to bed on time.”

Agatha had an eyebrow quirked up, as she turned to give her husband a stern look as well. As if saying, ‘You better make sure, Jonathan.’

All three, effectively charming their mom, were already giving her puppy dog eyes. Jonathan proceeded to solemnly cross his heart, and so did the boys.

For Erwin, his father was not only the smartest person he’s ever met, he was also the most fun. His dad was so fun, that even his stressed out mother would laugh whenever he’s around.

And every night, Jonathan made sure to read to his kids. Animatedly telling them stories of far off lands and great dragons for kings and princes to slay.

Every night, passing on to his sons the yearning to dream beyond. To look beyond. To look around their realities with a curious, ever-critical eye.

And it was something the brothers picked up well, as the two grew up locking themselves in their home library, getting lost in volume after volume. Their fair heads joined together as they poured into a book on the carpeted floor.

Even after what ultimately happened, Derek stayed firm and true; Erwin’s best friend and brother till the very end. The two swore to defend their father’s legacy. Dedicated their hearts to finding out the truth because really,

They were still the little children listening to their father’s stories in wonderment.

~~~

Whispers and shuffling snap Erwin out of his ruminations.

Already at the Corps’ Archives Office with his father’s research journal hidden beneath several notebooks and volumes of military discourse (and perhaps a love letter for a certain bright eyed woman), Erwin hesitated at turning the doorknob.

Was some other cadet using the office today? Erwin was sure he read Derek’s schedule correctly before burning the letter. Then Erwin had his answer;

“Oh Derek, please!”

Considering his brother’s uhh… reputation, it wasn’t difficult to guess what exactly was happening on the other side of that door.

Erwin shook his head, ‘That letter wasn’t kidding. He’s got a girl alright.’

And with a smirk, he then swings open the door—

Adeline Müller jumps off of her lover in a panic. It was clear by the disheveled locks of her platinum blonde hair, as well as her smushed cherry lip gloss that the two have been busy.

“E-Erwin!” she exclaims, trying to smooth down her now-crinkled nurse’s uniform as gracefully as she can despite the situation.

Adeline’s doe-like purple eyes flitted between her lover and his brother’s knowing look.

Erwin smiled courteously at the lady, “Good morning, Nurse Adeline.”

“Hi.” Adeline gulps, as her small hand flies to hide the creeping blush at her neck.

Erwin then looks pointedly at his brother, a smug look on his face.

“Derek.”

Derek puffed out an exasperated breath.

“Brother.” Derek grits out as his eyes turn to slits. “Punctual as always.”

Erwin gestured offhandedly, a picture of nonchalance, “You called for me.” His polite but teasing smile comes back, and turns to Adeline, who has now managed to put her little nurse cap to rights on her head. “I hope my brother’s been a good patient, seeing as you’ve been busy helping him feel better, miss.”

Derek puffs out his chest at that, his Scouting Legion uniform making his already imposing height look even more domineering. He pulls a profusely blushing Adeline to his side, proudly beaming out, and “Oh I’ve been an excellent patient, Erwin. Little Nurse Adeline here has been tending to my Titan bone—“

“Shut up!” came the woman’s cry after giving her lover a good smack to the arm. She tried to look as menacing as she can in the face of all the cajoling, but see…

…she was just too cute, and the fierce eyes just really weren’t working.

Adeline Müller was already a remarkably petite woman. And at that very moment, not only did she feel miniscule, she also wished the ground would swallow her up in embarrassment.

Well, Adeline supposes, at least it was just Erwin. Any other cadet, and news would have reached her father and…

Adeline shivered, ‘Who knows what he would do to her Derek?’ Nonetheless, she knew what Erwin was here for, and she was more than willing to leave.

Derek started chuckling, and leaned down to tenderly kiss the top of her head. Suddenly, all was forgotten, and Adeline was once again gazing dotingly up at her lover. Derek then whispers ‘conspiratorially’ at his brother, “Legion perks.” Then winks at Adeline.

Adeline rolls her big purple eyes, while Erwin just gave a slow, sarcastic nod, his mouth forming an—

‘Ah.’

Before the most infuriating brothers in the Three Walls decided to tease her again, Adeline hastily darts over to Derek to give him a peck, saying that the Head Nurse will be looking for her at the Infirmary soon, which Derek returns with whispering in the poor girl’s ear, before kissing her hand.

Whatever it was, had Adeline blooming red, her eyes growing to saucers. She swats at Derek again, before flying out the door, she pauses;

“Bye, Erwin. And please tell Mike that Mrs. Kissling is onto him and Greta!”

Then the tiny blonde all but runs out the office.

Erwin sighs inwardly, ‘Even the fucking nurses Mike?!’

“Yes, ma’am!” Erwin hollers back. His face turns serious as he faces his brother,

“Müller’s going to castrate you.”

“Hah! I can outrun Corpse Cock on foot, and he still won’t catch me even if the old bastard used 3DMG!”

“She’s engaged. To Alexei Lobov, no less.”

“And? I’m pretty much as good as dead with what I do. What’s some butterball nobleman gonna do to scare me?”

Derek swept back the same golden blonde hair as Erwin’s, while his cobalt blue eyes twinkled.

“Besides, I’m not going to go around fighting Titans to have Corpse Cock and some pig getting in the way of me and my girl,” came Derek’s obnoxious reply with his equally obnoxious grin.

Derek Smith was a man with what their mother calls ‘an award-winning smile.’ This was only accentuated by his Smith-good looks, his ever-present stubble, and perfect teeth.

Erwin snorted sarcastically, “Nice to see the Titans haven’t scared the jackass out of you yet, Derek.”

Although Erwin’s brother can be a smart-mouthed git, hearing his familiar Wall Rose twang alone was enough to bring back the nostalgia of home. Soon enough, both men were shaking their heads and chuckling fondly, knowing full well that no other man within the three walls could understand the other, as much as each other.

And within that familiar bubble of a moment, the Smith brothers finally move to give each other a firm hug.

Derek Smith’s thick eyebrows (it’s genetic, unfortunately) crinkled in concentration, as he was hunched over trying to discern the messy scrawl of his father’s handwriting. Derek rubbed at his stubble, a frown marking his lips, “Sweet Sina Dad, it’s like you don’t want anyone to ever read your work.”

“Speak for yourself,” Erwin retorts, a hand over his jaw, as one hand held Derek’s report up to the light, slowly realizing that the sun wasn’t making his brother’s writing any more legible. “It’s like reading code, Derek. You write your reports to Shadis like this?” Erwin turns to his brother with an incredulous look, lightly chucking the paper atop the mahogany desk.

“Hey, they asked for a researcher, not a clerk,” Derek retorts, throwing a hand up.

It was almost like a ritual for the Smith brothers to pour over the leather journals of Jonathan Smith whenever they have their intelligence meetings. It was a nice way to revisit and review whatever their father theorized in conjunction to what new information they’ve got.

The journals’ old leather smell also reminded them of their father, and that was always a comfort—like an intangible slice of their childhood.

Derek straightens up and breathes out, “Alright, give me that Erwin, I’ll just fucking tell you like the baby you are.” He swipes the report from the desk. “Sheesh, I’m like mom reading you The Secret Garden again,” the older brother mutters.

Erwin made face. “At least I don’t write like a cryptid, asswipe.”

“iM eRwIn AnD I nEeD mY BiG BroThEr tO rEaD tO mE.”

“I’m going to break your face.

“Try.”

“You sure? Because I just might, and we both know mom’s going to take my side.”

The two brothers stared each other down. Seething cobalt blue meeting challenging cool blue ones. It was an undeniable fact—Erwin was their mom’s favorite, her baby.

Derek nodded slowly in understanding; his jaw locked, arms crossed over his chest.

“Okay Erwin, low blow. But I’ll give you that.” Derek, still locking eyes with his brother, started shuffling the papers, and flipping to the page he needs.

Erwin just gave a smug quirk of his eyebrows.

Derek cleared his throat. “Shadis managed to scrounge up enough funding to finance an expedition next month.”

“About time.”

“Tell me about it. It’s not much, but clearly enough for Shadis to make a gamble. It seems like this one’s highly classified– a job for just us Intelligence, because we’ll be attempting to set up base outside the Walls.”

That certainly interested Erwin. It was no secret that Commander Shadis’ lobby for continued (much less increased) funding for the Scouting Legion is an ongoing uphill battle. The House of Lords is simply too uninterested in patronizing a losing war, when there are people without food, homes, and healthcare to prioritize…or so they say.

And so this sudden decision to undertake such an ambitious mission when the Legion can’t even seem to return with less than a fifty-percent mortality rate, and with barely enough funding to boot, would only mean one thing;

“There have been developments to the situation. Shadis is no gambling man, he wouldn’t risk his best and brightest on a whim,” says Erwin, his eyes so wide and so clear, they almost had a sparkle to them.

Derek had a similar expression on his face, but paired with an impish grin. “Exactly. And Ilse Langar and I have been ordered by the horse’s mouth to ‘record any suspected anomalies within titan territory.’ ”

Erwin’s jaw nearly dropped. “You’re looking for something.”

“But we don’t know what that is,” Derek replied.

Erwin, ever the curious one, took a step closer to his brother, almost like a child begging his parents for the surprise. “But you’ve got an idea, don’t you?”

Derek’s cheeky grin flashed back on, “…Maybe.”

Erwin rolled his eyes. He then hastily gestures for his brother to take a seat, as he took one himself, all too eager to hear the conspiracy.

“Beginning of last year, I have a source from the Garrison tell me rumors of dear old Shadis finding a man wandering from outside the Walls,” Derek began. “Apparently, he seemed like he knew nothing of our society. Like he was a foreigner. I reported this to Shadis during a meeting, and guess what? The man was almost uninterested. Far too eager to shrug the rumors off as bullshit. And now a year later, he’s kick starting a highly-sensitive mission to set up research bases outside the Walls?”

Derek leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. “You won’t get any smoke without a fire. These rumors came from somewhere. That possibility alone is worth investigating. And if it were true?” The scout tightened his hold on his arms, his biceps flexing. “It would be an astonishing turn of events.”

Erwin had his hands cupping his jaw. A thumb caressing his chin in deep thought, as his eyebrows furrowed together. His clear blue eyes were bright and sharply focused on a random point in the room, as the many kegs in his mind started turning.

A man wondering from outside the Walls. Clueless of their societal structure.

“You think the commander is hiding something?”

Derek breathed out, releasing his arms. “I think the commander knows something. Shadis’ heart is true; he wouldn’t keep information like this from his officers if it meant serving humanity’s best interests.”

And to that end, Erwin agreed. He would do the same if only to get to the truth. Surely, a man lying to pursue his true intentions is not unheard of. In fact, the Smith brothers are doing just that—committing treason for the purpose of realizing their father’s dream. Almost as if he was reading his brother’s mind, Derek clear his throat and declares, “We’ll know the truth soon enough. I’ll make sure of it. I’m leaving in two weeks, and I’ll be on the lookout for any leads while I’m stationed at base. I’ll rendezvous with you once I’m back.”

At that, Erwin turns to Derek immediately. “How long are you staying there?”

Derek pursed his lips. “Indefinitely.”

A pregnant pause overcame the brothers. Indefinitely, or until the base gets overrun by Titans.

And as if Derek was reading his brother’s mind, he shrugged, “Occupational hazard.”

The younger brother nodded in understanding. Erwin knew. “What am I going to tell mom?”

Erwin did not dare let any emotion pass over his face as he watched his older brother’s shoulders droop just that little bit. While Erwin may be their mother’s favorite, but Derek was the more emotional of the two—much like his father. Derek Smith, brilliant as his mind may be, still operated with his heart in consideration. And choosing to potentially let their mother grieve over a son was a truly heavy burden to bear. More so with the memories of their mother weeping inconsolably for days after she lost the love of her life, playing at the back of his head.

Erwin was probably too young for their mother’s grief to have an impression on him; especially since their mother particularly protected Erwin from ever seeing her in hysterics because of the guilt poor little Erwin was nursing. But Derek? Derek witnessed his mother at the lowest point of her life—sobbing alone in her marriage bed, her dead husband’s coat wrapped around her, her nose buried in their father’s pillow.

And their mother—like Erwin—was not a woman who would easily let herself go to emotions. So seeing her in that state was its own kind of trauma for Derek

Derek stood up, already getting misty eyed at the memories whirring in his head. He starts fussing over organizing and straightening all the books, journals, and papers scattered across the table. “The usual, Erwin. ‘Derek is off at another mission. He’ll visit as soon as he can.’ ” His voice was pert.

“And Adeline?”

Derek stopped. He faced Erwin, his mouth a thin line. His cobalt eyes serious and intense.

“Make sure Adeline gets my Wings.” The Scout’s finger absent-mindedly caressed the proud Wing of Freedom at his chest. “That’s all a man like me can give her.”

Wings are all a man like me can ever give an angel like her, Derek muses in his thoughts.

While Erwin doesn’t completely approve of Derek’s attachment to Adeline, without hesitation, he clamped his brother’s shoulder in a tight grip. As if saying, ‘You have my word, brother.’

Derek breathed out a small sigh of relief, also giving a firm pat at Erwin’s hand on his shoulder. Derek turned back to the books and papers he was aligning and tidying up earlier, telling Erwin about how he probably won’t be around for their father’s death anniversary because of his rigorous training in the upcoming weeks for the mission.

“…Although I’ll make sure to visit mom at Wall Rose before I leave, don’t worry—“

An envelope slips out of one of the journals Derek was straightening. Immediately, Erwin reaches out, almost lunging at Derek, “Don’t touch that–!”

But it was too late.

Derek had already pulled the letter out of reach. Already opened the still unsealed flap, and flicked open what is obviously a love letter. Derek wordlessly held a hand out, effectively keeping Erwin a distance away. Derek’s body was turned away from Erwin, as he read what his little brother wrote:

My Darling Marie,

How do you do it?

I would like to think that I am a strong man. I’m a soldier trained in combat. And Sina knows, I can kick a grown man to his knees. Perhaps even slay a whole Titan.

But you, my lovely, you weaken me so.

You soften my heart so much that, while most men my age dream of glory and fortune, I only dream of a dance with you.

To hold your delicate hand and kiss it, to hold you close to my chest so I could gaze into your eyes; eyes so bright, they put the very stars to shame!

So? How do you do it, sweet Marie?

What power do you wield over me that I can’t—nor want—to shake off?

Forever Yours,

Nile

Erwin watched in horror as his older brother’s face went from curious, to intrigued, to absolutely gleeful.

Slowly and comically, Derek lifted his head to look at is brother; A funny look on his face.

Erwin prayed to the Goddesses he wasn’t blushing.

Oh, but Erwin was blushing.

“Who’s Marie?”

Erwin snatches the letter away, not looking Derek in the eye.

“No one.”

“No one?”

Derek was still grinning cheekily though, as if he just learned a most salacious secret. Erwin sighed. “Nile’s courting her.”

Derek’s not buying it. “Yeah? Then why’s his love letters for her with you?”

“Because.” Erwin snapped, already itching to change the subject. “The bastard promised me Ragako in exchange for wooing her with love letters for him.”

Derek quirked a thick eyebrow, clearly seeing through his younger brother’s bullshit. Sometimes Derek forgets that Erwin was still a young man– still clammy over the thought of falling in love with a woman; over wanting a woman for more than what she can offer with her clothes off.

“No man is going to waste his time writing the kinds of words you wrote for a woman he isn’t interested in.”

Erwin had heard enough. He slips Marie’s letter back into one of his father’s leather-bound journals, and quipped back, “Just like how you entertain that woman’s affections as if you can’t die in the next week? As if she isn’t promised to another man? It’s selfish, Derek.”

And although it was never said, Erwin’s frigidity and the muscle jumping from his tightened jaw told Derek exactly what the younger Smith thought—the whole affair would compromise their goal. Their father’s goal.

Derek must remain focused, or else…

And the very thought of any man, even his own brother, gatekeeping his rarest of earthly joys away, infuriated Derek.

How dare he?

How dare anyone?

Not very many people towered over Erwin Smith, but Derek Smith was one of them. And at that very moment, the Scout is perfectly fine with reminding his foolish brother of the fact.

“I’m not about to deprive myself of love and happiness just because I’m a Scout, Erwin. I’m a man. Not a martyr. That woman? That woman keeps me alive. That woman keeps me fighting. Keeps me sane.”

The two men were like a pair of lions prowling each other.

Derek continued, still seething, “With that woman, I’m just Derek. Not Sergeant Smith, not even Derek Smith. Just Derek. Derek and Adeline.”

Much like a mirror image of his own passion and intensity, Erwin took a stand against the unwavering glint in his older brother’s eye. Erwin has seen that very expression on his own face. An expression which said that absolutely nothing could change his mind.

Still, Erwin gambled.

“What about hurting her? You can’t give this poor woman any assurance nor security, Derek! Or is that an occupational hazard too?”

“That’s life.”

Derek had just swung up on his steed, ready to gallop out of the Training Corps compound, and back to report in Scouting Legion HQ. Meanwhile, Erwin wordlessly pulled and tugged on Derek’s straps to ensure his brother’s saddle was secure.

It was then that Adeline rushed out from the servants’ steps and into the stables to give her lover a jug of water, as well as the bread and cheese she packed. The two men have been holed up in the Archives Office the entire afternoon, as evidenced by the orange streaks of the already setting sun. The trip back wasn’t very long, but it was just Adeline’s nature to ensure that Derek had more than enough food to fuel him along the way. ‘Besides,’ Adeline thinks, ‘A man that large must need as much food as he can.’

Next to Derek’s great steed, Adeline looked terribly miniscule. Like the afternoon winds could blow her away any moment. Still, after accepting her packed knapsack, Derek reached a large hand down to cup his beloved’s cheek, the purple of her eyes especially accentuated by the fading sun.

‘She really is a sight to behold,’ Derek thinks. He was quiet for a moment, just letting his thumb caress her soft cheek. Drinking her all in, memorizing every detail, as if he would never see her beauty again.

“Take care of yourself, mignonette,” Derek says tenderly.

Adeline smiled in amusement. “Says you.” She kisses the inside of Derek’s palm, and beams up at him, “Come back to me, my love.”

Derek winked. “Always.”

Derek straightened up and pulled on his horse’s reins to settle the beast, then looked down to his brother’s still morose face. He motions to the letter hidden in the journals held by Erwin, and says in goodbye,

“Allow yourself to be happy, brother.”

Then off Derek Smith rode. Dust, dirt, and gravel trailing his horse’s hooves.

The Wings of Freedom fluttering proudly against his back.

Erwin and Adeline took a moment to stand by and watch the Scout ride away.

That is, when Adeline’s soft voice broke the silence, “Love doesn’t make him any less of a soldier, Erwin.”

Erwin looked to the small blonde with the delicate curls beside him.

Adeline looked back, purple eyes firm and genuine. “Nor does it make him any less of a son.”

She paused. Doe-like eyes fluttering down for a moment.

“And it’s the same for you.”

It was then that Adeline was struck by how much Erwin resembled her lover. They had the same fire within the depths of their blue eyes. The same brilliant mind beneath their heads of blonde hair. The same imposing build and stature…

The same pride and dignity in their stance.

And yet, the two were so much more different.

Derek was full of tenderness, warmth and joie de vivre, while Erwin… seemed very far away. Like he could never look around him. Just straight ahead. Eyes fixed to the horizon.

But it was that fixation, Adeline knew, which would keep this man alive.

“I’m ending my engagement. I’m choosing your brother, Erwin.” The petite blonde swallowed back a lump in her throat. “No father, nor nobleman can change the course of true love, and—“

Adeline bit her lip. “He’s just so reckless!” she grits out in frustration.

“So please. Convince him to stay, Erwin. Here. With me.” The girl blinked back tears, as she gazed back to the minimizing form of her beloved. “I want to keep him alive. Keep him fighting.”

Keep him alive. Keep him fighting

‘That woman keeps me alive. That woman keeps me fighting.’

It was almost cute to Erwin how the two lovers just repeated each other’s thoughts and words, albeit unknowingly. And so Erwin thought it only fair to repeat to this girl– this woman– who would clearly give up anything for his brother, Derek’s very sentiments.

Erwin reached an arm to wrap around Adeline’s shoulder, and patted her saying, “You’re already keeping him alive and fighting, Adeline”

Eyes still gazing out, the glint of the setting afternoon sun against Derek’s fair head was the last of what Adeline glimpsed of her bold lover.

Business was thriving at the Territory that Friday night. Its usual evening assortment of clientele filling up the place with the stench of booze and cigarettes, with guffaws of laughter. All the more made merry by fiddlers the establishment hired to strike up a jig for the patrons. And so besides the usual hullaballoo of the place, drunk men were also prancing around now.

Marie meanwhile, was left breathless. The barmaid grinned merrily as Nile pulled her back up to his chest from their dip. Nile seemed to have the full intention of monopolizing Marie tonight, seeing as they have been dancing and jigging around the bar’s makeshift dancefloor—a cleared floor space, really—since Marie clocked out for her break. Nile promptly bought her a drink, and asked her (albeit drunkenly, seeing as he wouldn’t be able to do so otherwise) for a dance.

Marie was caught up in a fantasy—one where she was a duchess in a glittering ballroom in Mitras, spinning around in a silk dress in the arms of a prince, dancing like they were made of starlight. Like this dingy little bar in the middle of Wall Maria was holy ground.

Although, Marie would never dare admit just who exactly she envisioned to be her prince. Marie rolled her eyes at the thought, ‘she really should just enjoy the dance, and this funny man tossing her around.’

“I’m afraid my dance card’s full, soldier,” Marie teased flirtatiously. Her cheeks were already glowing red, eyes twinkling in mirth from the exertion.

Nile didn’t dare take his hands off Marie’s waist, and most certainly never let his eyes glance away from the ginger’s lovely visage. He grinned delightfully, and pulled the girl even closer, “That so? I reckon you can still squeeze me in for the last twenty minutes of your break, yeah?”

Nile was absolutely over the moon. When Marie started laughing– a tad bit tipsy herself—Nile didn’t even let her finish replying, he heard the lilt of a new dance starting, and immediately twirled the smiling girl towards him. Marie gave a high girlish squeal, and let the soldier sweep her away.

Perched by the bar, sat a man whose broad shoulders hunched beneath the influence of whiskey in his system. He took a drag of his cigarette, almost grunting out the smoke, as his blue eyes followed his best friend and the barmaid twirling around the dancefloor. Erwin’s thick eyebrows drew together, grimacing, ‘the bastard actually got her to dance.’

It was certainly rare, but tonight, Erwin is apprehensive. The letter seemed to burn a hole right through his jacket pocket, reminding Erwin of his brother’s final words to him.

Allow yourself to be happy, brother.

So Erwin continued to watch. Knowing full well that this newfound interest Marie had on Nile was thanks to his letters.

His words.

Also knowing full well that he could continue to write this lovely, shining girl in proxy for his friend or…

He could stop. He could stop, and perhaps… this lovely, shining girl could…

Allow yourself to be happy, brother.

Nile gave Marie another dramatic dip, one that had the ginger girl giggling. Nile almost looked silly with glee, as he brought the girl up. And in a moment of what must be drunken ecstasy, Nile kissed Marie’s hand.

Erwin threw back what was left of his whiskey at the sight.

‘Fuck it.’

Erwin took one last inhale before putting out his smoke at a nearby ashtray where Marie was already busy wiping down.

Marie felt the blonde man’s presence before she saw him. Could smell the sandalwood before Erwin leaned over into her space. Marie rolled her hazel eyes, although a tiny smile danced around her lips.

Marie refused to look back at this annoying man trying to distract her from work.

“Yeees?”

Erwin playfully presented Marie the letter in between his index and middle fingers, his blue eyes actively looking directly into Marie’s, trying to catch her full attention. Purposefully crowding her, wanting to drown her in all that is him.

“You seemed like you enjoyed your dance.”

Marie finally faced Erwin, a hand moving to rest at her slender waist. She tilted her chin up, trying her best to look as imposing as she can before this tree of man. But not before she registers—definitely not for the first time—just how infuriatingly handsome Erwin Smith is.

“Why? Did you want to join in?”

Marie felt her heart do a little leap and jig at the sight of Erwin’s perfectly cut face falling just that little bit.

Erwin snorted, “With Nile? No thank you, he’s all yours.”

Marie made a show of delicately plucking the letter from between Erwin’s fingertips. She pursed her lips as she read the scrawl at the back of the envelope: For my Marie.

She peeked back up at Erwin. “Hmmm. Seems to me you’re just trying to hide your two left feet.”

“Excuse me?” Erwin cocked an eyebrow, already smiling openly. Marie notes how straight his teeth are.

“I’m an excellent dancer, thank you very much.”

Marie abandons her washcloth, and went up on her tiptoes, getting into Erwin’s face. Something sly and mischievous played around her features.

Erwin could pick up on the alcohol in her breath when she whispered;

“Prove it.”

Glass bottles jingled in their shelves.

The man had brought his large hands down to rest at the liquor shelf behind Marie; effectively caging the girl in his arms.

Marie felt like a rabbit before a wolf. Cornered. Helpless. Frozen.

Felt her heart beating a rapid cadence. Felt her eyes darting between Erwin’s thin, chapped lips, to his hooded blue eyes—darker and deeper beneath the lowlight.

But above all, Marie felt herself wondering if this breathtaking creature would taste like whiskey and cigarettes—like a brooding phantom she could only ever glimpse in dark nights amongst candlelight.

Or perhaps he’d still taste like strawberries? Like sweetness and zest and freedom and hope.

Erwin gently tucked a ginger curl behind Marie’s ear. He caressed her freckled cheek.

Marie was already dizzy from the smell of nicotine off his fingers… or was it something else that was making her dizzy?

Rough pads of fingers pressed against the plumpness of Marie’s lips.

“Then…”

The woman took a deep inhale.

“…Can I have this dance.”

It wasn’t a question. Not when he sounded like that. Like, sin.

In a panic, Marie squeezed her eyes shut; “You’re drunk.”

Erwin blinked. And like a magic spell broken, Erwin releases his hold on the liquor shelf.

Marie’s eyes shot open, as she looked up at a chuckling Erwin. He was already smoothing back the few strands of golden hair that fell onto his eyes.

“I guess I am.”

‘Huh.’ Marie thinks, ‘This odd, odd man. He’s got a knack for immediately switching emotions, alright.’

Erwin must have noticed Marie’s strange look, and jabbed light-heartedly, “You better start working again before Nile notices you ‘aren’t busy’ anymore.”

Nile! Oh god, Marie almost forgot about him! He could’ve seen… whatever that was between her and Erwin.

Marie hastily went back to her washcloth, and started wiping down more glasses. She looked around for any sign of Nile, and found him still drunkenly gloating to Mike about his romp with her.

Although from the looks of it, the man is about a tankard away from completely passing out.

Erwin was already casually lighting another cigarette when,

“Are you a pigeon, Erwin?”

Erwin nearly fucking burned himself from his lighter. He spluttered at the bizarre question.

“Err…no?”

“Then why do you have to keep passing Nile’s letters to me? He’s right there!”

The two looked on to watch Nile finally succumb to sleep. Mike awkwardly patted his already passed-out friend.

Erwin snickered, “I’m afraid that’s why my oaf of a friend calls me his ‘wingman’.”

“Ha!” Marie chuckled out.

Marie read her letter immediately after the last of the bar patrons left—which happened to be Erwin. He insisted on keeping her company to ‘keep the wolves away.’ As if he hadn’t just tried cornering her a half hour ago. It was nice though, the conversation was lovely while she was closing up.

And so, when she lay awake in her bed that night, smiling to herself, fingertips on her lips. She wasn’t thinking of Nile when the words of the letter echoed in her head.

A/N:I know. Derek’s an absolute d r e a m b o a t, and I love him too.

Mignonette,’ from my understanding is “delicate” or “darling” in French. I heard that was Prince William’s pet name for Princess Charlotte, and I thought it was adorable.

On Erwin’s family, a discord friend of mine actually gave me the idea that Erwin possibly got his leadership skills and his you-think-this-is-your-idea-but-it-was-all-part-of-erwin’s-fail-safe-plan charm, from his mother. Besides, who doesn’t love a powerful working mom? And the rest went from there! It also made sense to me that a man as curious and as daring as Erwin’s dad would also be a child at heart.

As usual, any questions and feedback are very much welcome!

I also have an AO3!

4 notes · View notes

your-highnessmarvel · 6 years

Text

California ~part two

Summary: She had always wanted a future of power and fulfillment. She’d always imagined she would be a woman of conviction, a woman to choose how her life would lay ahead of her. Yet sometimes, things are arranged for you, and there is nothing to be done but to go gentle into the night.

A/N: Sorry this is late. I am currently handling the roughest cold I’ve ever had. I hope you enjoy this bit. Establishing more characterization and plot foreshadowing. Feedback is always appreciated! I promise there will be more smut and nasty things to come.

Parings: Loki x OC, mentions of Thor x Sif

Word count: 3643

Warnings: language (LATER IN THIS STORY, IT WILL BECOME DUBCON/NONCON. If it is not your thing, I will label those chapters accordingly and you can skip them)

TAG LIST IS OPEN

There was no point in arguing; she would be married off to Prince Loki of Asgard. No matter how many times she yelled at the top of her lungs, crying out in shame and anger, her parents shut her out like a switch. Cali felt betrayed to the point of no return. Her own parents had signed a contract marriage without her consent; without ever consulting her. It was as if she was too clueless and naïve to understand the cogs and machinery behind an arranged marriage. They were treating her like a child, like a stupid girl.

Tonight had been reserved for dinner with the royal family and yours. It was a façade for the under works of the machine again. It was a mocking picture; Cali and Loki sharing a fancy dinner that is supposed to be their first official royal appearance together. Yet underneath all those white-toothed smiles and waving, there are contracts being signed and conditions being met and discussed.

Handmaidens had brought in a dark green silky gown that reached way beyond Cali’s ankles. Meddled into the green were grey undertones, making the gown look like a tormented sea of emerald and smoke. The brunette let out a disgusted grunt when she noticed how the cleavage left way less to the imagination than it should. Her wavy locks tumbled over her shoulders, framing a pale face and a saddened smile. Her eyes bore the deception she felt, veins red with exhaustion, her lazy orbs proof of her sleepless nights.

“Almost ready, Cali?” Rona, her mother, appeared behind Cali in the reflection in the mirror. There they were, mother and daughter, standing one behind the other. The mother with the expecting and glorifying smile, wishing that her daughter would just see that everything she’d ever done was in her baby girl’s interest. Yet Cali wore an angry turn on her brows and a sad twist on her lip.

Cali rose a brow and grasped her clutch bag, turning to face her mother with a sigh. “Sure,” she huffed. “I’m ready to live a life that’s not mine.”

“I know this isn’t completely what you wanted,” Rona muttered, her eyes vicious, yet she was holding back venom in her words. “But you agreed to-“

“I only agreed to this horrible wedding arrangement because you forced me to,” Cali interrupted, pointing at her mother accusingly. Then the brunette brushed by her mother, angry footfalls echoing in the hall as she made her way down the stairs and out into the chilly air.

Her father was waiting by the door of the chariot, holding it open with a bashful smile. Cali strode down the stairs, hating the fake and unresentful smile on her father’s face. “You look…” he trailed off, looking at his daughter with a sour look on his darkened features.

“Ridiculous?” Cali suggested as she came to the final step. “Outrageous? Maybe you’re going to want to try slutty?” Cali climbed into the chariot, giving a hard and snarky look to her father.

“Don’t be like this, Cali,” he muttered, climbing in beside his daughter. Soon after, the chariot rocked with the weight of Rona climbing in as well, making her feelings acutely felt by sighing heavily with each bump.

The horse pulled through the town, carrying one jolly unhappy family.

The castle had been arranged to appear welcoming and warm, but as the trio climbed out of the chariot, Cali got a wrong feeling within her tummy. There were chandeliers seen from outside and handmaidens waiting to take her into the jaws of the castle. Glittering lights danced off the echoing colors of Cali’s dress, making the waves of crashing grey seem darker. The main hall was illuminated and cozy, everyone who was curious enough to gather around was smiling at Cali, pointing at the future princess.

“Welcome friends!” Thor boomed as he entered the hall, arms outstretched and a goofy, playful grin on his lips. “Cali, darling, always a pleasure.” He gave the brunette a sloppy curtsey that made her chuckle slightly.

“Thor,” Rona purred. “How lovely of you to greet us.” Cali could feel the bile rising in her throat at the tone her mother was using.

“Please, follow me into the dinning hall,” Thor announced, gesturing elegantly towards the end of the main hall. Ragnar and Rona were quick to take the lead, leaving Cali to walk behind with Thor on her heels.

“My lady,” the latter whispered. “My lady, please, a word?” His hand wrapped around the brunette’s arm, pulling her to a stop.

“Is there a problem?” she asked bitterly. The events of the past days and the emotions she had been feeling were making her pungent.

Thor leaned in slightly, so he could lower his tone, leaving Cali’s parents in the dark of what was being exchanged. “My brother is in a foul state tonight,” he whispered. “I would advise you be careful of the words you use around him.”

Although Cali was not one to normally search or entice conflict, the mere idea of irking Loki made the insides of her stomach squirm. “Thank you, Thor, you are kind,” she said, her tone laced with venom, “but I think I can handle myself around angry little boys.” Dramatically, the girl gathered her gown in her right hand and stomped off after her parents.

The dinning hall was illuminated by chandeliers, glittering utensils and cutlery, and the glinting jewelry of everyone gathered. The marble floor reflected the glistening lights, leading to the long table hoisted on an altar at the far end of the hall. The white clothed table was garnished with many plates and wine glasses, yet only Odin and Frigga sat at the table, admiring the little crowd of people amassed.

There came a breathy voice at Cali’s side just as she was spotting her parents greeting the royal couple. “Well you look dashing.” Cali’s skin crawled, goosebumps rising on her flesh in the wake of the husky tone. Her eyes darted to the tall man looming by her side, snuffed out in the shadows, leaning against the wall. A look of mischief and tension bore in his emerald orbs. His lips were pulled in a cunning smile, making his features look almost cruel. Dark locks were swept behind his ears, exposing his pearly white flesh and his long neck.

“Loki,” she greeted, raising her chin, remaining as cold as she could possibly be. He was wearing a dark crimson suit that, in the right light, looked almost black.

His hand extended, gentle fingers twitching. “Shall we?” She knew this is what they had to do, not what they wanted to do. They were expected to stroll through the crowd and smile sweetly, showing off the upcoming allegiance. Cali would have to show herself off both physically and intellectually, while Loki would have to show appreciation and affection; as if he was capable of both anyway.

And that is exactly what they did.

With his hand in hers, the heat of his body radiating into hers, she presented herself to the court with a genuine full-tooth smile and squared shoulders.

She could feel the tension in her partner’s hand. He was gripping her digits painfully, squeezing until her knuckles felt like they were cracking under the skin. Delicacy was not his forte, yet he was making it apparent that she should not and would not disobey or ruin the royal image.

Loki was a man cloaked in darkness. He’d let his demons permanently reside within his soul; giving them an all access pass to his decisions. His eyes held an insidious undertone, as if his entire being was caught between right and wrong, darkness and light, love and hate.

Loki carried her across the room, the heavy stares of her soon-to-be people burdensome on the pair.

He sat her between her mother and himself, squeezing her among two people she held animus feelings for. Green orbs reeked of cruel pleasure; the kind that you get after you’ve made someone suffer.

Cali’s mouth was thick with venomous words as she watched servants lay the appetizers before her. Onion soup and bite-sized snail snacks. The tips of her fingers itched to hit Loki or her mother or even the King for having so little reconnaissance for her feelings.

“You look like you just swallowed a hundred knives, my lady.” His mouth was next to her, lips grazing the shell of her ear. An unpleasant shiver sliced down her spine, an undesirable warmth spreading down her body.

“And you look like it is your name day,” she gritted between clenched teeth. When she turned her hazel gaze upon his pale face, the God was smiling devilishly, looking at her from under his long lashes. She was surprised by how unintimate his lack of preservation was. He was making no effort to hide the fact that he was relishing in her discomfort and her anger towards the arrangement. He was totally and utterly enjoying himself. “This isn’t a game, Loki,” the girl added. “This isn’t some joy ride we can get off of afterwards.”

“But I’m totally enjoying myself.”

How could that be possible? Two days before, he’d been acting like this whole arranged marriage idea was splitting him in half; as if the mere idea of wedding her would bring his dark career to a clambering end.

And now he was smiling, cheeks pink, eyes rotten with pure malice and sadistic joy.

“How can you say that?” she murmured. He ignored her, instead locking eyes with the servant who filled his wine glass. He gave her a quick wink, almost unnoticeable, expect to Cali, who’d been rained to observe such behavior.

Still with his steel gaze locked on the servant, he brought the glass to his lips and bottomed-up. The maid giggled and scurried off, leaving Cali feeling disgusting and ashamed.

She would be married to a womanizer; a man with no care about women but for the sensual pleasures they could bring him. She would be the ridiculed wife. She would be that woman who says nothing about her husband’s nightly adventures with the whole cast of the castle’s handmaidens. As sad as it was for her to admit, she would be judged by what her husband would do; by his horrific, insidious, and sexual desires.

After the appetizers came the lamb, complete with ringolo potatoes and thick stew. Cali pretended to enjoy herself, plastering smiles for everyone, Lords and Ladies, who came to wish the couple fertility and longitude. She had to bite back snarky remarks, resisting the urge to comment on the fact that, no, this marriage was not her idea and yes, any chance she got, she’d end it.

The annoying clinking of silver utensils against glass broke her from her train of thoughts as she was thinking of ways she could manipulate her mother into giving this idea of marriage up. Odin had risen from his chair, the golden eyepatch on his eye reflecting the million of candles hanging from the chandeliers. The Allfather was dressed in an all-gold suit, his breast plate the only silver aspect on his clothing.

“My Lords and Ladies,” he boomed, small smile gracing his lips as he spread his arms. “I invite you to the dance floor, where my sons and their accompanists will lead.” What froze the girl to her seat was not the cold digits of Loki on her knee, but the piercing gaze that she received from Odin as he regained his chair. It was not heart-warming or even insistent. It was torrential and audacious, piercing her, daring her to make one wrong move. He knew she was not pleased, but he was viciously reminding her that she sat beneath him, and that Loki, the prince, was the only thing that gave her importance.

He’d managed to blackmail her, to leave her trembling and following after Loki, with just one fucking eye.

Cali tried not to trip on her heels as she followed Loki, his hand now delicately grazing hers in a show of manners and glamour. Leading her into the center of the dancefloor, he made sure that they were the apex of attention. Anyone could see them. After all, this night had been arranged to show off the couple, to entice the whole high society of Asgard that these were to be the next and first royal couple.

The God of Mischief lay one hand on the small of her back, his skin searing through her dress. Her arm was parallel to his, fingers skimming his shoulders, free hand now caught in his. He was freakishly tall, yet lean and elegant in the way he moved with her to the music. The haunting hum of the violins filled the hall, the low groans of the cello not far behind. In her chest, the music reverberated, her heartbeat lost within the echoes of the notes.

This would have been a wonderful night for a girl not like her. If she’d been more like her mother, more like the rest of the girls in the hall who were fawning over Loki, she would have been utterly content. But she hated it.

“I wonder what your face will look like on our wedding night,” Loki grumbled, making her look up into the swirl of green, moving along with her on the dance floor.

“What?”

“You look like you’re being punished,” he explained, “like dancing with me is so horrifying.”

“I still hope that this whole arranged marriage is a joke,” Cali answered. She didn’t miss how the hand on her back twitched.

“Do you even know why we are being brought within the warm union of husband and wife?” His voice was treacherous. Although he wanted to seem careless and comedic, she could hear the anger and discontent in his tone.

“I assume there is a reason,” she answered, “but I’m afraid I don’t care to hear it.”

“Your father is the officer in charge of the Royal Bank,” Loki said. “But he came from one of the poorest families in Vanaheim. His immigration here is still known, which doesn’t quite make him one of us. As for your mother, oh well, she’s a gem.” Cali could feel her insides boiling by his sarcastic tone. “Rona who started off as a low born daughter of a whorehouse owner. Ran off at the age of sixteen, right into the arms of a Vanaheim immigrant. Now what would that make you?”

“If I had the sense in me right now, Loki, I would slit your throat,” Cali growled, her cheeks blooming with red, anger evident in the dark color of her eyes.

He smiled. “Right in front of the royal court?” he asked sarcastically. “That would only prove my point. You’re a little savage girl born from two big savage parents. But here’s the thing now. Vanaheim and Asgard are on terms of agreement, of peace. After uprisings and wars, we are finally discussing fealty between the two realms. And like every other treaty in history, the deal must be sealed with something permanent. With something that will breed new life.”

Although he was a man of manipulation and lies, Cali couldn’t help but hear the truth beneath his dark tone. “With marriage,” she whispered, eyes round and staring into the void.

Loki huffed. “Your father is now one of the richest Vanaheim immigrants to ever step and live in Asgard. Odin refused every other girl from Vanaheim, even some of the wealthiest and well-respected girls. Odin is smart. He knows he could never fully trust them, so he chooses the only person for whom he has the tiniest of trust in.”

“My father,” she says, snapping her eyes back to his, seeing the malice.

“He’s wealthy and he’s assimilated into the Asgardian way of life.” Loki’s hand on hers squeezed as he spun her around, the rhythm of the violins picking up. “He’s the perfect match. Vanaheim rulers accepted the deal; that you, the only daughter of Ragnar and Rona, marry into the royal family. This appeased them and sealed the treaty.”

Her brow creased, the hand on his shoulder slipping. “But why marry you?” she asked, her tone, for once, not at all angry. “If Vanaheim wanted to seal the treaty, why give me to you and not the future king?”

“Thor?” Loki shook his head. “Because Thor has Sif, and Thor get’s whatever he wants. The population of Asgard would go mad if those two did not wed.” He was being dismissive, but the brunette that was now completely enveloped in his arms could see that he was truly affected by the whole ordeal.

“So I’m just a tool,” Cali said. “I’m just a means to an end.” Loki’s hands fell away from her as he became utterly still. His eyes bore into hers, like he was searching for any sense in what she’d just said.

“Typical of you to only think of yourself.” He spun on his heel, pushing through the crowd of dancing people, swallowed by the mass.

Cali, despite herself, found her feet moving to follow the dark prince. She didn’t know why, but she was then pushing through the same people, muttering excuses, trying to find Loki. Following him to the outskirts of the dancefloor, she found him stomping out into the hall, his back tensed, hands clenched.

She wanted to hit herself as she followed him, banging the door shut behind him, the sound echoing in the darkness of the hall.

“Loki!” She called after him, making him freeze, his back to her. His head slowly turned, revealing the slender profile of his intricate face; long, straight nose, thin lips, round chin, and Adam’s apple.

“You think you’re the only one who’s displeased by this whole thing?” he asked, and she could tell by his tone that he was fighting to stay calm.

“Since the beginning of this night, you’ve been acting like this is a joke,” she said. “You haven’t treated it or me with seriousness.”

He turned to face her, green gems shining with anger and betrayal. “My own father and mother sealed my faith with a girl that I don’t even like, without ever considering me. They conspired behind my back.” He was taking dangerous steps towards her, lips tight with every word that left his mouth. “They gave me no choice. It was you or the cold desserts of Jottunheim.”

She’d heard about his past; how he was adopted from the coldest planet in the nine realms. He was the son of the king of Jottunheim, yet here, he had been nothing but the back-up.

“But that’s not the worst,” he continued, chilling her bones with his vicious tone. “After the wedding, when I am sealed forever to you, they will expect things from me.”

“They will of me as-“

“Shut up!” he shouted, making her jump, his proximity now awaking her fight or flight reflexes. “I know, oh I know how hard it will be for you to have to kiss me and pretend to love me,” he cooed in a fake tone. “But they will expect us to always appear as a team; to be enamored with each other. They will expect us to rule as Duke and Duchess. They will expect me to put children in you.”

His last words stung. Albeit everything he’d just said, the pretending and the arduous decision making as a pair, that was the thing that stung. Was she that horrible that he dreaded the idea of bedding her?

“Even if we pretend, at one point, they will notice,” he continued, his tone low and menacing. His hands came to rest on her cheeks, his cold digits searing her skin. She was mesmerized by his words, glued to the spot by the truth, the cruel truth, of his statement. “Even if we kiss in front of them, if we hold hands and laugh together, they will notice the frigidness of our affection. They will notice how distant we are. They are a people of love. You and I don’t understand. You are part Vanaheim and I am completely Jottun. Asgardian citizens are beings of love, and they will notice how ours is faked. They will notice that our touches don’t linger and how your belly remains flat.”

She didn’t want that. Yet she knew the repercussions if she didn’t sell the show of her love for the prince. Loki didn’t have to say it. Her father would be exiled back to Vanaheim, her family losing all their wealth and prestige. They’d tumble down from the ladder they’d climbed. Odin would blacklist her, sending them back to their homeland, where even there, her family would be blasphemed for breaking the treaty. She had to chose between her own comfort and sanity, or her family’s welfare and reputation.

“I don’t… I don’t-” she stammered, shaking her head between his hands, tears threatening to fall.

“I know you don’t want,” he hushed, bringing her cheek to lay flat on his chest, his hand patting her hair. Although the act was comforting, there was nothing remotely soothing about it. “But you will have to take it. You will have to obey. You will be a Duchess, filled with richness and titles and anything you’ve ever wanted.” His tone then became abhorrent and petty. “You will have to let me touch you, kiss you. You’ll have to let me fuck you.”

With a quick jab, she’d pushed him off of her, eyes red and round with anger. Her bottom lip was quivering, watching as his faux-sad eyes turned into malicious content. His words, those nasty and horrid words, burned bright in her ears. He’d played with her, like a toy, like he did with every other subject on the receiving end of his cruelty.

He’d destroy her.

Tags: @shieldgirl95 @loki-god-of-my-life @fluasch @spudsandbandit

112 notes · View notes