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#so he doesn't *owe* them an explanation and he can just hide it until he has to see them again...

cowboylament · 6 months

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“With 50 years behind us…” Lucien said, his eyes looking at my lips. I let mine look at his for the first time in many years. That first night I’d seen him I noticed them. He didn’t even glance, didn’t even look in my direction or notice me until he found me with Eris. I’d felt so young, so childish, wanting to be under his gaze. Now I was no different, or entirely different. I wanted to know what they felt like, if they too were warm.

“And what about real life?” I asked.

“What about it?”

“When things return to normal, as they will, you'll feel differently.”

“And?”

“And I will be left to want what I have never wanted before.”

Lucien smiled, there was a flicker of amusement but his brows mirrored the confusion mine had only just displayed. I knew that our real life was too close, always waiting to take us back to the places where we existed, where these things shared did not reign or govern anything.

Y/N doesn't know what Lucien meant Part One, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Bonus, Ao3

I slept for the first three days. One by one my court, save Amren, kept me company in my room. Cassian joined me for dinner and Rhys was always there for breakfast. Morr laid in bed with me late into the afternoon gossiping about one thing or another. Azriel too, who had arrived late into the evening, returned over and over I think with a guilty conscience for not having been there from the start.

The only other absent party was Lucien.

I waited for him that first day. Even with the visits of others, their chatter, my mind was half in the silence of elsewhere. The house remained quiet, absent of life. There was no extra noise, no recurring sounds. He’d said we’d go back and we had. The future would look the same but in Velaris.

On the fourth day, sleep did not appeal any longer, though sitting idle wasn’t much better. I couldn’t keep my attention on any book for longer than half a page, so I took long stretches by staring out the window. The fall breeze had begun to sweep through rattling the glass. I could see the chill like it were as real as the sun, the houses, like the air temperature took a realized shape on the horizon.

“I brought this for you.”

Morr had stopped knocking, not that I had much to hide. In her hands was a heaping plate of food, twin to her own.

The talking points had not changed, we recycled the same topics even as they grew stale. Despite what she’d wanted to know the first night back she had not again brought up Lucien and when she did it was always in passing. Something about him staying in his room or the glares that had passed between him and Rhysand while I was being stitched up. She lingered over no topic, looked without longing to understand the events that had led to our arrival at the townhouse.

“I saw Lucien on my way up.”

The scrape and clink of our silverware was the only noise. A false casualness, a feigned indifference.

“He emerged from his room then.”

“He joins us for meals now, sometimes I see him go into the library.”

When the days got long and boring, and night swept in before I could grow tired with it, I imagined his reason for not coming upstairs was because he’d left. I couldn’t imagine him anywhere in Velaris particularly, which frightened me. I could only imagine him existing in places we’d already been. In the Day Court library, in Adriata. If he left this city there was no coming back. I could do nothing for him.

I don’t know if this reality was worse, but with similar ease in wounding him, he could bother me just the same as ever. We’d each saved the other's life so we were even. He owed me no visits, I needed no explanation. The fact that he could bother me just by not being here led me to believe it was better he not come at all.

“Well,” I said, discarding my plate to my nightstand. Its clatter was the loudest noise to hit the house in the last few days. Everyone had taken to the same quietness as the wraiths. “He can be social when he wants to be.”

Morr pushed some food around. She wanted to know still, I made no mistake in that. Whether she’d been wanting to be polite or was waiting for me to broach the topic again was unclear. Even now, however, she said nothing. She moved to topics of dinner at the house of wind.

“He said he wants to talk to you first though.”

“About?”

“Well, I could venture a guess,” Morr said, relaxing into the usual conversations again. She threw herself into the pillows on the other side of my bed and buried herself into them. “I imagine he wants to get an idea of how you’re feeling about it all now that some time has passed.”

“He thinks I’d change my mind? I woke up and wanted Lucien dead?”

She sighed, “no, I think he just knows that night was intense and emotions were high.”

He acted this way with no one else, asking more than once if they meant it, what they wanted, or what they’d said. For all its well intentions I wondered if he found me so fickle, weak. It didn’t matter that words were the only thing I had, the thing I felt good at. It was distinctly brother, all other second-guessing came in the form of strategy, came from a High Lord. For as rare as it occurred, it evoked also the rare moment of doubt, questions if I weren’t in part given this job for the sake of having one.

“We can’t go back,” I said.

“Why?”

“I don’t know but we can’t.”

Morr leaned up onto her elbow and retreated into the routine casualty we’d spent most of our lives sharing secrets with like there was nothing new about this. “If you wanted to take it back you could.”

“It's not that I wish to take it back, it's just different.”

“I found him here you know, that morning after.”

I had assumed he’d left on his own. After staying up all night he’d become too tired to sit any longer or he’d fallen asleep and it began to hurt his neck. I assumed he wandered downstairs and never came back. If he’d said anything, of why we were there, Morr didn’t reveal it and she’d get no words from me either. Silence passed. I checked my bandages, they were in place as I knew they were. I pressed down my collar, brushed my hair back, winced with the effort. I returned her stare only after I felt sufficient time had passed.

“All these years you said he didn’t care about you. What is this I’m seeing now?” She asked.

“Emotions were high you said as much. He certainly hasn’t been particularly warm since.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“How do you feel?” The words at last burst from her, she couldn’t wait any longer.

I threw my hands up with an exasperated sigh. There was no way to say it, I feel like I went to one world and woke up back in my own. And it all looks the same, but nothing is. I have to operate now, with the feelings of this one and the knowledge of the other and they can’t intertwine.

Morr let out an equally frustrated laugh. Her’s was less malicious, but I felt the annoyance nonetheless. She just wanted to know, as she knew everything else before this. She was used to having my feelings and thoughts available to her. The males of ages ago at the time of their occurrence held little weight. It meant nothing to talk of them, their ends were understood and guaranteed. We’d spend hours in this very room, this very bed, going over every little detail. Now she wanted words for something that words did not exist for.

“You told me about everyone else.” She stood from the bed and made to grab her plate. When she looked back at me, saw the look on my face, my stare, all annoyance had vanished. I half hoped Lucien was suffering my own brooding, though I had not felt much of his. She gave a half smile before rolling her eyes.“He’s different then.”

“I’m different.”

***

The following morning Rhysand brought with him no breakfast. I stretched at the knock he gave my door and the pain, though it was sitting beneath the skin, did not linger as long as it had before. When I called him in he remained in the hall.

“You’ve been given leave to haunt the rest of the house and not just your room.”

“Thank you for the warm welcome.” I threw the blankets off and with the most careful of movements rose out of bed. It took me less time than it had these past few days, but it was clear the wound still caused issues. Rhys walked over to put his arm out for assistance after I was up.

“Please, try to reel it in, your bedside manner is suffocating.”

“If you want to be treated like a baby you should have asked me to send Cassian.”

Rhys on our walk downstairs told of all the inhabitants of the townhouse. Lucien’s name remained absent in the reports of the latest comings and goings. As we made it down the stairs I half expected, even with the house empty, some sound would have returned to the world. That because I could leave my room the city outside the walls would slip in, that life reverted back to its ways with us. No, the world remained eerily quiet.

In further disarray, my brother turned us left into the office rather than toward the dining room. I could smell the food beyond the threshold. When I saw the plates waiting, the tea, I stopped. Our arms slipped out from each other and he turned to see the issue.

“It's just breakfast,” he said when he saw the weariness of my posture.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well, that's too bad. I have your favorites.”

We were both lying. It was not just breakfast and I was certainly hungry, he knew that and I knew that. The sound of my hunger could likely have been heard the moment he took that first step upstairs. Just as the sight of his office alone tipped me off on what this was really about. I wasn’t sure I could give him what he wanted. He, like Morr, was impossibly settled in some old way of thinking, of acting, that no longer was of any use to me here. He hesitated though, throwing his hands in his pocket, looking around the room with all the nonchalance of someone guilty.

“Morr said you want to know how I’m feeling about all this.”

“I might, but it's possible that I might also want to enjoy some quality time with my sister you know.”

“It's possible though unlikely.”

His eyes narrowed at me and though they remained playful, I sensed that a High Lord lay beyond them. Our game was coming to a close and an order was waiting.

“Things are a little time-sensitive right now, but we can talk about whatever you can talk about and then if we need to come back to it we’ll come back to it.”

When my brother had said we’d talk later it occurred to me that while I had made it out of the woods, Lucien had not. Part of him was still dangling there, or in between, running. He was safe but only within the confines of specific formulas. What terrible things happened to those who broke bargains. I’d avoided death of a terrible kind, what would be made of me if I didn’t uphold my end? It made my palms sweat, how easily this membrane could break, and how fast all that flooded it would end what had barely begun.

“Ever the negotiator.”

Rhys heaved a sigh of relief. I knew he understood that I wanted to, to tell them of what was going on, but he couldn’t figure out why I wouldn’t. Nevertheless, an easygoing smile returned to his face, but I didn’t take it for mockery. He said, “part of the job.”

We ate breakfast from the two armchairs. It was just the same as we had the mornings before, where what lacked in formality allowed the relaxation of family and the sharing of private jokes. The normalcy of it, of knowing what to say and how to make him smile, was of some comfort. When I leaned back against my seat, full, all that had once been terrifying in its abstract had moved into sharper clarity.

“Alright. Let's get it over with,” I said.

“We can begin wherever you see fit.”

I half expected some resistance, some confrontation, but when he said that it was obvious he wouldn’t be that way. It was my choice, and it had always been my choice. Even when he’d found out I was mated he’d lectured on my safety, but in the end, there had been some understanding that whatever I wished would be allowed. Things now were more complex but it was a good feeling, and an open one, the confidence of knowing someone was ready to listen to you rather than thinking I’d argue with a wall.

“Everything I said still stands. I haven’t changed my mind or rethought it, and it's not because I was injured that I said it. This isn’t his fault, what they did.”

I didn’t have to say who. To name Lucien implied a level of tolerance I did not have. The bargain had been made and the mating bond existed and something in me wound tightly with the strings of fate had pulled me this way.

“How do you visualize him here, in Velaris?”

“I don’t, I can’t, but I don’t think that means he won’t do well. He’s unfortunately good at what he does.” I relaxed into that statement just a bit, letting my eyes close on the images of us in the very same rooms over the years. People spoke warmly of him, even to me.

Rhys raised a brow, “you’d work with him?”

“It's not as if we haven’t already. If anything I’d see less of him. I’d speak to whoever they send from Autumn now. Somewhat ideal.”

“But you’d still see him, in this city. And if I made him part of the court, would the close proximity make you...”

“Explosive?” I offered.

“Rash.”

If we could avoid each other in a single house, moving through rooms seamlessly, how little we’d see each other when we’d have free reign of all the rest. Who was to say though, how we’d be now. That remained the most important factor of all, and it was entirely unknown. It doesn’t have to be this way forever. Though forever seemed bent out of shape, half submerged, hidden from view. My pursuit was aimless, not the least without having seen him again, seen how he’d be. Maybe it was this that was different, the level of our tempers and the deepness of the crease in our brow. Or maybe it was some other thing entirely, we knew something we had never known, of that impossible distance in death. He could indeed stray too far from me.

“I don’t think it will be an issue,” was all I said.

Rhys huffed a laugh, but I watched his thoughts carry him away. I pulled at a loose thread of my pants, letting the fabric run in two directions, the thin line curving around the thigh.

“I can’t tell you much else.” I began, “not even because you’re my brother I just don’t know what to say. It cannot be undone, whatever happened out there. But I can’t have the pressure also of having to prove to you something you don’t really desire to believe.”

“How do you mean?”

“You don’t trust him.”

Rhys winced, “well I don’t know his intentions.”

“That's why you had Azriel’s shadows in my room then, when he was there.” It was not like the shadow of death, what had shaken the chandelier. And despite the wind of the past few days, no draft had been strong enough to repeat it. It took me about two days of watching the window to work it out.

“I wanted to know if he was telling the truth.”

“And?” I didn’t think Lucien was lying but the certainty would be an added relief, to know what he thought. The mortification of their intrusion had already subsided after a few sleeps. It wasn’t worth the argument, I realized honestly that it only bolstered mine. He was not his family. Their watching had relieved a pressure, rather than adding to it for once.

“Well if you’re going to fall for a few cheap lines..”

It didn’t matter to me that he was joking, a sharp pain spread across my chest like a shattering glass. Wherever Lucien was I’m sure he’d be feeling it. This might even have been the first thing he’d felt from me since we’d arrived.

“Don’t be cruel.”

Rhys leaned forward as if he could backtrack, “I’m just saying. He’s from Autumn.”

“For a court that praises itself on making a new world, you’re awfully content to go with your old way of thinking when this new world shows up.” This struck him, truly, I could see it in the way he straightened, how his familiar posture turned more formal, considerate. “If you don’t intend to change then I have intentions too and I won’t waste my time. I’m too tired.”

The wind let out two howls, then another, before he released something from him that had been lingering, a tension or a breath.

“You trust him?”

“Yes.”

“And you like him?”

I put a hand out, “let's not get ahead of ourselves.”

He and I laughed, really laughed then for the first time in days. Not even because it was particularly funny, but for what it released. I think what had gone from him was that momentous weight of something so small as almost, almost losing the last family you have left. Almost not making it back, a minute too late, a mile too far, far too many almosts had been in place. But everything had happened as it did and I was here and at least to him, I was more or less the same.

“I was worried your mate’s habits were rubbing off on you. You’ve become so serious.”

“I was just bored. How many times can I listen to you or Cassian talk about the time you had to walk up all 10,000 steps to the house of wind? At least my mate offers me some different entertainment.”

“So I heard,” Rhys smiled.

“Cassian’s a loudmouth.”

“Oh no, you outed yourself that night. It's a quiet house and if I hadn’t nearly killed Lucien for the laugh he got when he heard I might have joined in when you’d admitted it. I’m not surprised though, you always liked to choose the males I hated.”

I rolled my eyes, “You’re insufferable and you’d probably like Lucien given that his jokes are always at my expense.”

“Well if he joins this court he’ll fit right in.” I met his stare, the amusement there and I knew he was making an offer to me as my brother first. “I’ll claim your mate.”

I wanted to feel better than I did, wanted to feel I’d done something, but nothing came of those words. It wouldn’t be as easy as sending a letter, Beron would take pleasure in the torment of it all, as he always did, as he always does. He’d want something.

“Thank you.”

“I thought you’d be happy,” he said.

“So did I.”

Nothing had really been resolved. I still knew nothing. I had no frame of reference for the future or even the previous understanding of the deal we’d made of the bond with its rules and obligations. Everything was hinging on something else, and the thought that everyone in this court would be watching, wouldn’t even be able to help themselves by meddling in it, made my stomach hurt.

I closed my eyes, a lethargy overtaking me. “It doesn’t help much, having five people watch you mortify yourself.”

I could feel his amusement without looking. He didn’t get it though. I always knew what was going to happen, the stakes were low. No matter how I said it or showed it, that this was different, they didn’t get it. Lucien could be given refuge, could hear of our claiming, and decide to go anyway. The bond which had suddenly added so much weight to our world was still worth almost nothing. And they’d watch it happen, all the while meddling and probably making me look even less capable of having any power in this life at all.

“I’ll leave your business to you to work out.”

I opened my eyes just a bit, to reveal the slightest skepticism.

He relented, “I can’t say what everyone else has planned.”

I groaned, sitting up straighter but found all the same I could laugh. I raised my glass to him, “Well let's at least hope we all find some entertainment.”

He raised his glass back and we sipped. I had no doubt it would be, this court always managed it. They probably already had a bet between them all going on how long it would take Lucien to move out.

“Now.” Rhys sighed. “I need you to show me what happened that night.”

Presenting the memory to my brother didn’t bother me half as much as I thought it would, and it seemed twice as fast. Regardless he said nothing when he pulled himself from my mind, but he was rigid, eyes glazed over with thought. I asked him to walk me to the garden if only to rid him of the ailment. Just as soon as we walked into the hall, however, Lucien appeared on the other side. Rhysand took no small amusement in making himself scarce. He vanished completely behind his office door with some false excuse, the bastard.

Lucien looked the same. I don’t know what I thought he’d look like, but I expected something palpable for me to hold onto. Something that would signal to me that he was telling the truth, that it didn’t have to be this way forever. In a way, what I really wanted, was for this to be easy, was for the change to arrive fully formed and realized, but that was rarely ever the case.

“Surprised you’re still here,” I said crossing my arms.

“Not as if I can leave.” He said taking a similar defensive stance. Even through the sweater he was wearing, I felt the presence of his skin, the warmth of his body. There were many things I couldn’t forget even as we appeared back in our usual place.

“You’ve been busy then?” I asked, “Haven’t had the time to walk yourself upstairs to my room again?”

He was mad, “I hadn’t realized you wanted to see me.”

“I assumed you’d be curious as to how I was doing.”

“You assumed wrong.”

A door shut somewhere in the house, but besides that the world was motionless. I couldn’t even see his breath, his blinks, and if I were doing so I didn’t notice or feel it. It was immovable, the circumstances, like a locked jaw, grinding teeth, we could only press further into ourselves or stay where we were.

Lucien cleared his throat, “big emotions this morning.”

My fists clenched on their own accord, “it hasn’t been easy.”

Each word seemed abrasive compared to the silence around us. In contrast, however, a tautness softened in me where Lucien’s feelings had been. He cared, cared for what I’d felt. My body returned the sentiment in answer. I dropped my hands and softened back. For all this, however, he remained tall, as firm-faced as I was. What interior emotions, these years, had been lost to our shields?

“You could have asked for me,” he offered.

“I’ve certainly had the time to work that out.”

His throat bobbed, something like exasperation with sorrow or maybe it was a guarded amusement because he knew that I could not ask him to come, the embarrassment of it. There was no winning. He’d laughed at me before, over any hint I’d been looking for him, but he found this self-preservation just as amusing. Even when he himself was just as guilty, he had offered nothing substantial that I myself did not give first.

I felt it though, his hesitating, the strain of something, and he made to step forward.

“I don’t suppose Y/N has informed you of the news?” Rhys said appearing just when we might have grown not to need him. The silence of the hallway and all its tension had slipped beneath the door to his office and he must have taken that to mean we needed him. His arrival was enough for me to understand that though he’d offered me the privacy to deal with this on my own, he would still let it be known when he’d have done something differently. I don’t think he could move without at least two motives.

“No, she was so preoccupied with our warm hellos I suppose she didn’t think of it.”

I mirrored his dryness, “welcome to the Night Court.”

A surge of gratitude, relief, and grief, struck me square in the chest. I might have staggered backward, its intensity unannounced in every regard. He didn’t crumble even slightly at its weight, so I felt responsible not to give him away and remained where I stood.

The relief made me relieved, the grief too I mourned. They were intertwined, and even if I wanted to I could never untangle them. Even if we were different, if we were mates who liked each other he had lost something I could never replace. We would both have to live with that.

“Thank you, I know this isn’t an easy task. I appreciate the risk.”

Rhys shrugged, “you’ve risked more for less. It's time to see what we might make of this new life.”

My brother looked toward me and I reddened. Among the citizens of Velaris, we were known for our character, our real character. Beyond we were that terrible Night Court from the Hewn City. Lucien didn’t know of our dreams, of our aspirations, what we tried to do. To think that he might understand what was secretly spoken of, our hope for the new world, turned my stomach.

“I’m at your disposal,” Lucien said to Rhys though his eyes remained fixed on me.

“Good. Then you won’t mind taking my sister to the garden for fresh air and exercise.”

“Rhys,” I said but he was already walking away from us.

“Madja’s orders. After that, please, the both of you, try to settle in.” The doors to his study closed once more like he had work to do and I could practically hear him biting back laughter on the other side of the door. I’d have to ask what he thought it meant, letting me deal with my business. His only plans were probably to winnow to drinks with Amren and Morr. He had the time. When I turned back toward my mate he raised his brow.

I took a seat in one of the chairs sitting in the sun. I hissed, a tugging at my side sent a burning pain into my ribs. Lucien flinched forward but resisted. All I could do was laugh. When I showed him the way, for the first time in a long time, I noted he was uncomfortable. It amused me the way it might have before. I could tell, unlike Rhys, he wasn’t sure if he should offer me his arm or leave it and he seemed internally to be arguing with the two options. His eyes darted to my side, my elbow, and lifting his hand like a flinch he eventually let it settle between us untouched. If Lucien saw my pleasure or felt it he didn’t say.

“Can’t bear to be decent?” I said once he’d settled back from his intuitive desire.

“I’ve never known you to want help with anything. Your ego would suffer.”

“How well you know me,” I said pressing my face up toward the sun. “Tell me what else have you picked up in your old age?”

Lucien didn’t take the bait, “Rhys said you had to exercise.”

“Rhys is a busybody.”

“Well, he’ll soon be my High Lord.”

“And he’s already my brother,” I said, opening my eyes to meet his. We were once again at an impasse. A breeze hit the courtyard rustling the leaves and I felt it blow through my shirt with a slight chill. If it weren't for the sunlight I might have shivered.

“Please,” Lucien said with great reluctance. Outside the city became him. It was clearer, not totally, but less obscure this idea of how to picture him in the city. I could see him moving along the Sydra, could even see him walking through the square. I tried to push him into places, the house of wind or Starfall, but those remained flimsy. For having seen him at so many parties, in so many dining rooms, those remained off-limits to me.

A spike of anxiety met me so I stood.

We paced around the courtyard, lapping five times without another word. Neither of us looked at each other or even so much as accidentally brushed arms. When I began to lightly stretch, however, it became less simple. I tried to see the range of movement I had at first, twisting, reaching my hands, but it only took one over-estimation, one recoil, for Lucien at last to close the distance and grab my arm to steady me.

He did not let up right away. It was no more a whisper of a touch, but he burned with embarrassment. I craned my neck, following the long expanse of his arm where heat radiated at his palm. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, waiting for a remark which never came. The pain subsided, though it was not emotional pain, he seemed to feel it nonetheless.

Just as soon as it dampened and I could breathe again Lucien said, “don’t hurt yourself.”

“What's it matter to you?”

He dropped me from his grip and stepped away. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“Well aren’t you two getting cozy.” Cassian’s voice rang through the sunny space from his spying from the doorway. I moved too quick and winced again, but Lucien barely flinched—barely, but I saw. I corrected my posture but we’d already been caught, and regardless of guilt, how it looked left the Illyrian amused.

“Not every male is as repellent to females as you,” I said.

Cassian crossed the small distance and threw an arm around me, looking toward Lucien with a grin I knew well, the kind he liked to use before he demolished any sense of peace.

“Has she told you she’s scared away every suitor in Velaris?”

I shrugged his arm off feigning my annoyance because something in me warmed that he was treating this situation as equally prosperous. A moment in which, by teasing me, I suspected he was attempting as he promised to welcome Lucien. He carved real space, smiled real smiles, in the direction of my mate.

Lucien let his attention drift over to me just barely. “What don’t they like? Her stubborn attitude or her perpetual scowl?”

Admiration came down the bond. It shocked me, enough that I had no reply. Why it hadn’t occurred to me that he would do well here evaded me. I’d always thought if we’d been tolerable I’d have to leave this city, but now the other possibility seemed far more likely. He had the natural wit for it, to win them all over, even perhaps me. They didn’t need him in Autumn, didn’t want him. Here I just had to be sure they let him tease without shattering him.

“You know,” I said composing myself as Cassian bit back his laughter. “You should ask yourself why you let yourself believe that lie. Last I checked, this shirt doesn’t have holes for wings.” Cassian’s eyes drifted to my shoulder blades in confirmation. “Maybe I’m not as scary as you think. Or better, maybe you aren’t as scary as you think. You Rhys, and Azriel were all here when that male left without it.”

Cassian took it with good humor and a part of me thought, even anticipated, jealousy to dig itself out from my ribs. That's how it was supposed to be, primal and intrusive, annoying and vengeful, but not a ripple or a whisper moved within me. Instead, Lucien was smiling, more than he had been before. If I didn’t feel what he felt I might have mistaken the look for pride.

Cassian switched the subject just as fast. “Lucien, I’ve learned you’ll be part of the Night Court now. Tell me, have you heard yet of a place called Rita’s?”

The following two days fell into routine. Lucien would find me after breakfast and we’d spend an hour in the garden, pacing and stretching. What he did after that remained a mystery. I didn’t ask and Lucien didn’t tell. Nor did he reveal his commitment or thought to the words we’d exchanged when we’d arrived. Instead, we became more like our old selves than ever, at each other's necks about everything.

“You got the okay this morning I hear.”

“Yes. Stitches come out next week.”

Lucien nodded then glanced toward my shirt. Yesterday the house was truly empty, and even then it was as if the whole structure was leaning in to listen, even the doors were at a slant.

“Back to your own clothes.”

“For a little. I like to visit the Illyrian village every so often.” He was less amused at that than when I’d joked the same with Cassian. A flicker of jealousy I hadn’t intended to unearth pulled between us, like it were meant to physically push us together. Had his words meant this, that our arrangement made those years ago would be what changed? My mouth curved up, turning away but letting him see me smile just enough to feel the intensity heighten within. At least I had some sense of control over him, this mating bond wasn’t utterly useless. I added, just to see, “If you wanted me to keep to myself you should have said so.”

“You think too highly of yourself. I’d take you to the Illyrians you love so much myself if it meant I could be rid of you.”

His door slammed with such force the whole house righted. It took all afternoon for the tightness in my chest to lessen. If he’d even show up today to take me to the garden I wasn’t sure.

Azriel was the only one downstairs when I came to eat. He’d been busy after my conversation with Rhys, looking for information on Autumn Court. He didn’t report much to me, if anything. And he didn’t mention if his work led him to ask anything of Lucien. He was always good at that, breaking the illusion, ending the joke, that I was liked in consequence, that I was a byproduct of duty. Though he was a friend of Rhysands, he was my friend too and when we spoke he almost always picked our friendship first.

“I can only assume everyone is handling our new guest with the utmost tact.”

“Cassian especially.”

“Has he told the story about the winter you spent at the cabin?”

“No, because he knows I have a story about him from the last summer solstice.”

“Care to share?” Azriel smiled

“When the time is right.”

He laughed and stood from the table. I could see from the windows the wind pushing its way through the trees with equal mix of splendor and violence. Autumn was arriving swiftly over the mountains. It seemed almost a disservice, really, to keep Lucien from the city. This was my favorite season, long before I met him. A trick of the Cauldron, a premonition I couldn’t shake. It pained me to miss it now. Did he feel the same?

“Where’s your brother?”

“House of wind. He’s bringing something up for dinner tonight. Amren probably requested her usual.”

The Shadow Singer nodded and made his way to the door. I followed behind him to look for the wraiths who I kept finding spying on Lucien. They were quite taken with him apparently. When I felt the sting of jealousy I fought the urge to shield. He hadn’t so I wouldn’t. There was no prize now for caring the least. We had power together and over each other. What one could do the other was just as capable.

Since last seeing him I’d scarcely even felt him down the bond. I half expected to discover he was shielding himself, but every so often curiosity or amusement sometimes even endearment would give way to fear in my chest. I didn’t want to intrude upon his adjustment, but I’d stop what it was I was doing when that happened and try to think of what he could be doing to cause such a thing. I’d try to hear him in the house. It pleased me to find so little despair, to think of him wanting to know this place more fully.

The two quiet females were talking amongst themselves in the kitchen. I informed them that the dinner we were going to be having was formal and asked if they’d help prepare. They agreed, before delivering a message with amused glances back and forth.

“Lucien said he’d meet you in the garden.”

I would have stared longer but he felt me there, in the doorway. Not the least maybe, for the strain with which seeing him look out at Velaris from the roof had managed to put on me. The autumnal colors behind him, along the hills in peak, brightened his face. The scene was becoming of him in the late morning light, he looked handsome, more handsome than before.

I wanted to go back. That’s what I hated, what hurt. I wanted to go back to the night we’d arrived when I was brave, when I said the things and did the things I’d never have done.

Worst of all, I wanted it even after he turned, and delivered without care, “took you long enough.”

I began to pace without him, ducking behind a row of bushes that had opened a few weeks ago. The blooms scattered mostly at my feet now I stepped through them. Lucien had taken the single order of Rhysand’s to be law, take me to the garden. So he would.

He fell in step with me once I made to pass him. The wind had changed, no longer a relief across the skin it arrived with hints of chill and, if it went on long enough, left a shiver in its wake. I wasn’t dressed properly, my shirt billowing open I crossed my arms to try and retain whatever heat I had which wasn’t much.

“Do you always write in your books?”

He wasn’t hostile, not even a little, despite what he’d first said. That wasn’t surprising anymore, how quickly the air between two people changed, mostly I was surprised by the fact that he knew my handwriting well enough to ask after it.

“Yes.”

He hummed, but we weren’t far enough from ourselves for him to reveal why he wanted to know. Morr had said he’d spent time in the library, he must have happened upon one book with ink in its margins.

“What are you reading?” I asked.

“Folktales of Velaris.”

The last time I’d read that I hadn’t yet met him, let alone been mated. I must have been just barely 30, young. It’s hard to imagine what could be permanently inked into that book, I’d known so little then, next to nothing. Another cool breeze helped soothe the heat blooming on my face. We returned to silence, walking the garden twice before Lucien found cause to break it again.

“You like to read?”

“Yes. As do you?”

“Yes.”

Stilted conversation for someone I knew was capable of finding the precise words to be entertaining and an annoyance. I hadn’t even had to ask if he liked reading, going to the library seemed confirmation enough. Why he was asking, what it offered him, wasn’t clear.

“Not everything has ulterior motive.”

I must have turned too fast. The question of how he’d known what I was thinking, which had been forming in my mouth, was overpowered by the sharp inhale. The autumn air pushed it back down to a point of insignificance, to the place where it no longer mattered. The startle of the pain brought with it shadows forming around us. Magic, all mine.

Deep in my side a wave of burning pressed forward until it overwhelmed the place just below the skin. I couldn’t release it, couldn’t let the flame out, or turn into the shade and hope the darkness would smother it.

I bent forward. When my hand met the pain, another was already there. Not my own, warmer, larger. It was pulling me in, forcing me up.

“Stand up.” Lucien said and though his body held the heat of autumn under the skin his voice was cold with a familiar demand. If the pain had been less intense I’d never have listened. The tone alone was enough to give cause for a fight, but I elongated my spine, half by the force with which he pulled me into him and half with trusted intention to do as he said. My frame curved into his easily, taking his shape, like wax to flame.

“You have to stretch,” Lucien said his mouth tucked so close to my ear his words passed through my hair and slid over the skin. His hand that I’d rested atop moved leaving my own behind, moving up my side. He applied pressure at my ribs. No cotton between his fingers and me, just skin, just his hand under my shirt. With each place he touched the pain diminished in size like he was moving it back toward the point of impact. His voice was disconnected from him, it told me to take a deep breath and I don’t know if I listened. Not at least on purpose, when I felt the air pass into my lungs. The burning vanished.

I kept breathing, pressing our chests closer together then pulling them back apart. The pain seemed to linger nearby, like the moment we let go and moved it would come back. I was sure it would, and my fingers dug themselves deeper into Lucien’s clothes. I hadn’t even opened my eyes, couldn’t allow my consciousness to drift to the entirety of our position, all my focus was taken and I didn’t want to know how it felt to be this close. I wanted really for him to drop me before I could.

“Good girl,” he said.

I shoved out of his arms.

He was already laughing before I could move away. The mixture of my embarrassment and his satisfaction doubled when he’d seen the blush that had formed on my face. He leaned against the railing, smiling smugly.

All I managed to get out was, “pig.”

“I don’t know if you’ve ever done as I said, thought it warranted a little praise,” He mused on the moments of the past, squinting his eyes like the memories we shared would appear before him and confirm his suspicions. “And I had a feeling you weren’t ever going to let go without encouragement.”

“You should’ve said something.”

“I did.”

I wasn’t used to this version of him, this idea. This was not our game, our routine. He’d called me a thousand things and good had never accompanied any of them. He’d shattered everything, all that normalcy we’d found in coming up here, in being our worst selves.

“So this is your famous charm. I’m unimpressed.” I said finally.

He laughed, his usual arrogant laugh and I wanted to latch to it. If I could I’d have thrown it over the moment like a sheet. “Lucky for me I’ve never desired your good opinion.” Yes, back to the familiar. He would not make desire from our old lives, I wouldn’t let him. He added, “from what I remember you’ve bestowed it rather foolishly in the past.”

I scoffed, “And you’re any better? How's Tamlin?”

His gaze was more piercing than it used to be. I shifted under it, squirming, with the sensation that he understood me even better now than he used to, and even before he was impressive. There was rarely ever a time when he didn’t know which male I would go after at an engagement, what kind of mood I was in, and why.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said, his voice taking on that mean taunting tone he had when he wanted to get a rise at me, when he knew he’d held the right words in his mind. “How long did it take for you to break our deal? I can’t be too bad a claim if you saw fit to tell everyone we were mates.”

“25 years and I was drunk.”

He hummed, nodding along. He was enjoying himself. The circumstances didn’t matter and they never did. I could be crying and he’d still laugh, in fact, once in Winter Court he had. His gaze dipped down and then up once, the joy he’d gotten seemed to lessen with my admission.

“Ilyrians are known to stomach unpleasantness, it's good you’ve found them.” He said pushing off the wall and standing just before me. Indifference settled into displeasure readily on him. I preferred this to everything, with such moods I could wound him like nothing. He thought he was shielding himself but I could read him just as easily if he was telling me his every thought down the bond.

“Is that all that matters to you Autumn males? That your partner is pleasant to look at?”

“I never said you weren’t pleasant to look at.”

Lucien said it like it were nothing. He even smiled like the displeasure never happened. He watched his words land and even I could admit that he had played the hand between us well. For him to admit something like that, then, now. I was envious. He’d gotten the upper hand and he’d never relinquished it, even when I thought we’d leveled out. He’d won and he knew, taking for himself one single prize, letting his eyes fall to my lips.

I went to speak, but if there hadn’t been words before there was little chance of them appearing now. While he had never called me good, he’d also never given any suggestion that I was attractive. He avoided my appearance altogether with clear and cutting attacks. I was always wretched, lousy, irritating, unskilled, or some other pinpointed insult that he had, for 50 years, wielded against me. Never though, ever, had he alluded to my appearance.

“Your personality however could use some work,” He finished.

Words returned and stumbled out of my mouth, but even with the force of snapping between us they didn’t have the desired effect. “Feel free to waste your miserable life out of my company.”

He bowed in mockery, pointing toward the door, “There's the exit.”

I was already leaving. I passed Morr at the top of the stairs. She was walking with Azriel. Neither said anything, but they were, the pair of them, sharing twin smiles.

***

When I caught myself in the mirror I was embarrassed by my own lifelessness. Though death, in the end, had lost it still seemed to take with it souvenirs I imagined would be returned to me at a later date—some youth I had lost and could never get back. My skin seemed to drag down my face like its being there was a reluctant favor. My coloring had gone sallow, everything was limp. Even my hair seemed tired falling with great weight. I needed a proper rinse rather than the half bathing I had been allowed the week before.

I dipped below the water and closed my eyes, willing myself to feel the warmth of the tub within. I could think of no other remedy to bring it back, life reached toward warmth. It seemed to work, the longer I sat there the more real I began to feel, emptying the room-temperature water every so often and replacing it with something more scathing.

Regardless, however, of my intention to return to myself the recurring thoughts always seemed to cycle through me with glaring direction toward Lucien. He’d bothered me before, but there was something infinitely worse about this version which seemed to be talking with a subtext I myself was unaware of or could not read the same as I had. We were different now, I’d have to learn all over again what I’d once instinctively understood.

We used to be so good at it, understanding what the other meant, circling each other like wolves. It had been fun to do it, to wield something fatal like words and to know just the same that they’d never kill, they were actually anticipating the attack all along. For what it was worth I liked seeing him at a table, liked that it meant someone was there who could be counted on for a challenge. He’d look at me and I’d know precisely what each nod of his head meant, each gesture. We’d laugh all the while anger without violence, joy for the sake of pain. I loved hating him and I loved that he hated me, but looking back the fun of it seems to diminish in quality, vanishing almost entirely the further I looked to the past.

All these years he found me pleasant to look at while I found him handsome and yet neither of us had ever said so. We were, perhaps, more transparent than we thought. We’d said more by omission than any other verbal demolition. Now even words were obscured by their meaning, by the direction his eyes faced when he said them. I knew nothing. Where was that universe we’d been to, where it had been seamless, easy even to slip into our sincerity? How do I get back? I didn’t want to be brave and yet with each day he didn’t return to me, I realized I would have to be.

The wraiths combed out my hair, it was too painful to twist and reach back still. They did so with great care talking and laughing of the recent events and with each venture into the business of my mate I narrowly avoided them. I closed my eyes and dreamed of their gentleness when it had come from other people and other places. I returned endlessly to the night in that very room. When the brush got too close to my temple I recalled, against my will, the feeling of his fingers brushing the hair from my face. I rested my forehead against my knees. The two females grew quiet, talking only with each other eventually, one stringing in long thin strands of gold with ornate stars. It matched the dress. I looked like the night sky.

Rhys had come halfway through to check when I’d be done, noting, that I was holding everyone up. When I got downstairs no one was there but him, smiling, in a suit that matched me. He had wine waiting.

“Which is it, are you abandoning me or forcing me to spend time with you?”

“I abandon you when it’s warranted.”

“It was you who said you’d stay out of my business,” I said sipping the wine. Rhys’ agenda remained veiled. I don’t know what he got out of any of it, but regardless it was of little benefit.

“I said, I’d let you deal with your affairs. How am I to do that if you won’t even be in the same room as each other?”

I opened my mouth to reply but to do so incriminated me. Either we’d been together and he didn’t know about it which he’d tease me on or I’d admit he was right and therefore he had indeed needed to force us together. Worse, I’d have to pretend it didn’t bother me, that Lucien was always missing. Regardless he relieved me of having to do either.

“How is it going with your mate.”

“He’s even more charming up close.”

Rhys snorted. “You should have seen the glee Morr had in reporting to me of your fight in the garden.”

“No one shows any allegiance to my cause.”

“And what precisely is your cause, moping in your room? Not quite as captivating as mine.”

“And yours would be?”

Rhys smiled and took a sip of his wine, shrugging like it were as equally unknown to him as it was me. I don’t know why I’d believed him in his office. It shouldn’t be of much shock that his letting me deal with this involved his own agenda. I could only imagine the entertainment he got in trying to parse out what was true, what he believed me to feel, or what all these years I’d told him. It didn’t matter that the time before was different and disconnected from the time now, so long as eventually what he said came true he’d feel he’d won.

“I’m figuring it out, no thanks to you.”

“All thanks to me. What do you think we’re all dressed up for?”

He was even more nosy and self-important than I imagined. Forcing us all into a dinner with fine clothes just so what exactly, Lucien would have to sit next to me at dinner? “And suddenly you’ve got a keen liking for him. Weren’t you the one scolding me three days ago?”

“I’ve seen more of him than you, so there’s an argument to be made for me at least. Plus you looked worse today than you did when you arrived a week ago, it’s not hard to do the math.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

He raised a brow at me, and I’d known then I’d been giving myself away. When he came in to see me as I was getting dressed I bet it was plain as anything the quiet of the room, one look from the wraiths.

I dropped my illusions, rubbing at my forehead. “Well, I wouldn’t even know if your guess was right, so stay out of it. You’re not helping me figure it out.”

“That would ruin our fun.” I glared at him, knowing he meant the court myself excluded, but he continued “I’ve placed a few bets and I’m interested to see if I’m right, especially tonight.”

“What bets?”

Rhys moved toward the living room and spoke so even I could barely hear him. “Don’t let him get away with his behavior because he bats his eyes at you.”

“I can’t stand you.”

“Good luck.”

I went to get the last word in but when I turned, Lucien had been making his way into the foyer. Rhys ducked into the sitting room and as soon as he moved out of my sight the walls seemed to turn inward toward us.

He was still in borrowed clothes, but he was there. The hearth of the adjacent room was our only cover from curious ears. The logs shifted and cracked under the heat. It covered everything with a film of half-silence. Even his breathing, if he were, was masked by it. We were in nearly identical positions as we’d been just a few days previous, but instead of the tension pulling between us something light entered the room. I thought I heard a sigh of relief.

“You look well,” He said stepping forward.

“I feel well,” the words left me with unintended softness, like the moment required it and on instinct, I played along. He pointed to the bottle of wine at the table and made it the rest of the way across the room.

“Is this for everyone?”

“Yes,” I extended him my glass, and in the light, I saw the imprint of my lips. I was so used to it, letting Morr or anyone finish what I could not commit to. He saw it too and as I went to pull back his hand fast, gentle, enclosed my wrist and took it from me.

“Thank you,” he said with the sincerity you have to whisper, and staring at the rim brought the mark of my lips to his own. Through the glass I watched them touch. They became indistinguishable from one another, where I had been and where he now was. A heat, not of embarrassment but some other kind I couldn’t name rose from the ground up, clouding my head. I watched it all. Even when he pulled away I kept my eyes where his lips had only just been.

“Did you want a glass?”

I nodded even though I didn’t. I had no words to explain something even as simple as the lack of a craving. He poured it anyway. The relief of the cool glass made it worth it and when I shifted so followed suit of everything else. You wouldn’t have even noticed that the world was off kilter had you not seen what I did, a kiss that hadn’t really happened.

“I’ve never seen you in Night Court colors.”

“Females must honor, by dress, the court they’re visiting unless they’re married.” He’d not been to the Hewn City, not at least while I was there. He wouldn’t have realized it either, even with our years between us, it wouldn’t have mattered before. We were too busy with our disgust.

“I find it convenient,” I said sipping from my glass, “that you’re suddenly remembering your manners now that I’m pretty again.”

“You’re too smart to believe something so stupid as that.”

“What should I believe?”

He looked out the window, holding the glass up to his mouth but not drinking, not yet. “Whatever you wish as long as it’s not that.” Then he pressed his mouth to the same place he’d done before, and met my eye. A playful thread wrapped around his features and tugged. Even as he sippied I watched the indent at his mouth sharpen. Now that I'd admitted he was handsome it was as if no other word existed half the time for anything. Everything fell under its terms and yet nothing quite so specifically captured its beauty. Not at least, besides Lucien.

“You told me I couldn’t brood and you spent the greater part of the afternoon stewing. Care to share?”

Outside there was still no sign of the rest of our court. Rhys, if he was alone in that sitting room, had nothing to distract him from our conversation. Even had I wanted to admit to Lucien that I’d spent the greater part of the afternoon sitting in the bath thinking of him I couldn’t with my brother so close.

“Not in the slightest.”

He hummed, “you think I won’t work it out?”

“I think you’re busy. You don’t need to waste time with my feelings when you have your own. And I wouldn’t even be able to tell you because I don’t remember every fleeting emotion and its cause.”

“I do. There was some curiosity, a little regret, followed by periodic and yet endless somberness,” Lucien said groaning as if the feeling was truly endless and the weight of it had been unbearable even just in memory.

“Next time it happens you could come and ask me.”

“Yes, next time then. I was busy today, spending my miserable life away from you.”

My small amusement could have been concealed but a breath of it caught the wine in my glass and some splashed onto my face so I was forced to wipe it away. Lucien said nothing. The bond warmed.

“And you?” I said finally when no taunt came. “Are you well?”

Despite how strained my chest became with my own desperation I hoped no matter how it struck, how much I wanted him to be enjoying Velaris, Lucien would still answer honestly. If he were to lie just to spare me I don’t know if I could forgive him.

“Yes, in part.”

“Which part?”

“The part that’s glad to see you at home and safe.”

“And the other, the one that’s not well?”

“The same as you, the piece that remains unwell.”

Lucien’s gaze dropped to my side and beneath the skin, the cut ached like it knew he was looking. The part of him that lived within me strained with echoing ache, they recognized each other. The cut and the tether, like calling to like. I wanted to touch the pieces of him I found beneath my skin and soothe them, even if it were useless work. He’d be unwell until I wasn’t.

“If you can manage to fit it between your moments of somber,” he continued, “I was hoping you might show me Velaris.”

“You’ve not gone and seen the city yet?”

“No.” He said shifting on his feet a little, his eyes staring down into his glass without taking a sip. “It's yours. You should be the one to show me.”

Down the bond, something relaxed, serene, and it almost convinced me to join in on the feelings. He’d said this with a sense that there was nothing strange about it, while it seemed to me the opposite. He waited for me. He had never once waited for me.

I wiped the sweat from my palms on my dress.“I’ll think of some places.”

“When you do, try to remember right now and not this afternoon in the garden.”

“Why, you think I’ll take you somewhere seedy?”

“No, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve got a gang of Illyrians in your honor waiting around some corner for me.”

I let out a laugh. It burst from me and I made to cover my mouth. He watched me, something brightening on his face. I don’t know if I had ever done such a thing with him, or even around him—laughed like this. The real true laughter I had at home was reserved for private moments, so as to be polite for all the rest. I shook my head, attempting to stifle it, to recover. “None care for me so much.”

Then he did something he does often, which was easy to miss if you didn’t know it. He looked at me. Not the kind of the past, eyes narrowed, waiting to strike, but a different one I’d seen him use before. Even as I hated him I’d know the first time I saw his face take on the look of intention, that he was seeing me truly and entirely. The first time it happened was the night before the bond snapped. We’d been standing in the hall, outside our rooms.

“Your good blood is wasted,” he said the sky just barely dark enough to sleep. I could see the way the words showed up on his face, how he’d meant it. He laughed, “I don’t know anyone who’d have you.”

“Plenty of things exist regardless of your not knowing them.”

The blankets behind me rustled with movement and the Cauldron laughed. He glanced behind me but said nothing. He could surprise me even then. Instead, he looked at me as he was in the foyer, with something so intent on seeing the whole I was sure he really was. I let him. I waited for the moment where shame, fear, or even violation crept through the world where I was standing in my pajamas with so little grace. The longer I waited the less sure I was it would arrive.

Even without the bond, I knew his curiosity as if it were in me too.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Lucien,” I said without thinking too long on the words or the fact we’d never said them, they were too polite and well intended. I closed the door and watched the blankets rise and fall where Kallias lay in a beam of light that wasn’t even half night, maybe only a quarter.

The next day, despite the cold civility of our endings we’d returned twice as short with one another. But I couldn’t forget what had happened and never did. How could you? That something like that exists and you can tell the difference. When someone is looking with the acknowledgment of your person as unique rather than what they had categorized you out to be. Whatever he discovered that night I didn’t know, but something new had taken shape in his mind and replaced what had been there before. I understood after that some looks existed as witness, and the rest as nothing at all.

He’d done this so much over the years that I let out a sigh of relief, to at last understand him again, if only in the smallest way. Now instead of walking away between us, something tightened. I gestured toward the sitting room to divert us, suddenly overwhelmed at the idea he’d say what he saw, what he thought, but Lucien too had extended his hand.

Our glasses hit. The lip of them clinked together while my knuckles roughly scraped along his. I knew where we’d collided, where one move ended and mine began from the short warmth I got in our touch. I might not have known what had happened were it not for that small difference between us.

Despite our collective efforts to right our drinks, they fumbled in our fingers. Two heaps of wine lay between us, splattered on the ground. Lucien was already walking down the hall toward the kitchen before I could speak, apologizing repeatedly. His empty glass abandoned on the table.

“It's nothing,” I said following behind him.

Behind us, Cassian, Morr, and Azriel entered with precise timing. Someone let out a low whistle and Morr yelled for no one in particular asking what had happened. They were gone though, in another room and it might as well have been another life. Lucien asked where the rags were and I existed for a single moment in his question and his alone. It was an ordinary accident, to do what we did, but it was rare too that the graces of immortality failed twice. I wanted all my attention on the mundanity of him and me cleaning. I found I could not actually pull my focus away. Where he had been leading, he waited and turned back before I replaced him. We pulled two clean rags from their place, and made down the hall, my shoulder fell with each step into the soft fabric at his arm.

“Sorry,” Lucien said, rolling up his sleeves and looking toward the sitting room. I could feel the foreign embarrassment in my chest, “sorry.”

“I do it all the time.”

I knelt and began to sop up the spill. Despite my attention, I couldn’t bring myself to look at him directly, to see him in the way one is when they’re at home, undone. I’d want it too much I knew, I’d try for a hundred more messes just to see him roll his sleeves up. I couldn’t let myself hunger anymore. I already wanted that which came with notes of despairity. Instead, as I wiped in circles on the floor I let his body periodically move into my field of vision as he cleaned the other half. The shirt tucked in on itself, exposed his forearm. You didn’t get to do this anywhere else, not really, you didn’t get to be at home. I should know this arm, this person it was attached to, I’d seen it plenty before but all the while his embarrassment was foreign, and so too his movements were unpredictable and routine.

“I should have known to avoid the area, you talk with your hands,” he said once the floor was clear and we were back on our feet. He was smiling ever so slightly when he said it, fixing his shirt back into proper place. I couldn’t bring myself to mirror the move, to right what the minor chaos had undone.

“It’s funny,” I said instead while his body slipped back into itself. “I used to be able to tell what you were thinking. I thought the bond, exposing it, would make everything easier, but I think I know less than I did before. I can never figure out what you mean, never know how anything will end.”

I finally allowed myself to look at him truly as the cuff of his sleeve at last dropped to cover his wrist. I felt him, his staring at me with the slightest wrinkle in his brow and also the reason for that single imperfection being there. Again, unexpected, sorrow deep-rooted but new climbed beneath my skin like a vine. He opened his mouth and I hoped it would tear the growing thing but we were interrupted again.

“Shall we?” Cassian said appearing from nothing. It was no struggle to look away, I wasn’t brave enough to face the consequences of myself. I wanted the sadness to end there in that moment, I wanted not to know that look of small unintentional demolition.

“You’re flying with Cassian. Unfortunately Lucien is with me” Rhys said avoiding the male’s eyes.

“Flying?” Lucien asked.

I tapped my shoulder, letting my mask fall into place on the amusement of his impending discomfort, “half Illyrian.”

“I’d take you if I could,” Morr said. “But you can’t winnow in. You could take the stairs but I suspect Amren will be waiting and she’s better with a group.”

Lucien seemed barely to follow the thread on new information, stuck on the fact we’d be flying and that Rhys apparently was taking him. That even a High Lord couldn’t winnow himself into a place in his own court must have been strange when Beron had wielded absolute power however he could.

Standing in the streets of Velaris and hearing the current of the Sydra had the same effect as sitting in the warm bath water. There was a returning power within me. I was stronger, could feel that good humor circling around my mind as it settled in waiting to be used again. I walked more surely, following behind Cassian who looked out at the water. Just hearing it, the sounds of the city and its people enjoying their evening or the river pressing onward in its pursuit was of some comfort. I knew the world wasn’t waiting for my return and I liked it that way, that these things could be counted on regardless of the universe we found outside the door.

The warrior turned, his frame blocked out the lights across the river. I’m sure on a battlefield, in the village, such a display might startle those who knew him only barely. He’d never intimidated me. As if he knew I’d been thinking this, he leaned down so we were eye level.

“I won’t be easy on you.”

“You’re all talk.”

He smiled conspiratorially. From behind I knew Rhys was watching, listening. The new sense of strength made me eager, I slid into his mind, testing for any pain, and found only a slight cramping. It was enough that I managed at least to say, it’s been a while since we’ve given them a real show.

Cassian smiled, I’ve been thinking precisely the same.

Before he could pull me into his arms I looked back at Lucien who was watching uneasily.

“You’ve delivered me to the Illyrians just as you promised.”

In quick procession, I was pulled into Cassian’s arms, who held me with all the care in the world. I latched onto him before looking toward our court. Rhys began to move toward us, hand outstretched in objection.

“Don’t—“

But we were airborne before the command could be heard enough to qualify as disobedience. The wind pushed through my hair and I laughed, really laughed. Now I remembered how. The lights of the houses fell like stars behind us. I twisted with little resistance, he was fast, we were already far too high. The Sydra appeared like a murky ink spill down a map.

“Ready?” Cassian yelled over the wind.

I held tighter in confirmation and just like that we were plummeting back toward the cobbled world. Cassian let out a loud cry, as if announcing us and our amusement. I echoed with my own. The joy seemed to pierce the night in half, making light with it. From the ground, our court managed to make themselves heard like our happiness was contagious even at a distance. With the water closing in we pulled up just in time for me to dangle one hand along the surface and skim the river with my finger. I could just tell how cold it was, not touching it enough to withdraw, but was in its proximity. We lifted again and they watched us loop, climb, fall, and twist.

It was only when we got close enough Rhys yelled, “Get to the house of wind before I sic Amren on you.” A very real warning, and Cassian knew as much. He danced past the court once more before climbing up the altitude and slowing his pace.

“They can’t handle that we’re more fun than them.”

“We have a shared aptitude for chaos,” Cassian agreed.

Buildings passed beneath us and a sense of peace swathed in. I surrendered myself to it. I was never sure how long those moments would last. I closed my eyes, and imagined Lucien now on his way to the house of wind, standing on the balcony in the Autumn air. Unlike him, his being here required his introduction to my real life, the true one which was hidden for many years. His home, the intimacy of his day-to-day life remained back in a court with which I would likely never again return to.

And he was here, making his way to the house we’d had all those dinners in, seeing the streets of a city that reverberated with decades of my joy. I bet you could still hear it there, eroding the stones. I was made here. That itself was an intimacy and he was not so foolish as to miss it. I was exposed by default. The bond between him and I was a tether, but it wouldn’t surprise me if on his end it felt like water, if it felt like the Sydra.

“Thank you, for what you did the other night,” Cassian said. He, more than anyone, managed to find the words to say what had not been said. He had suddenly that look of contemplation that made him more serious than he normally was. It always followed a sense of care or duty on his part. Whatever his reason, his need to speak had yet to reveal itself. “Rhys told me what you said, about the new world. I wasn’t sure how I would feel about him, but I’m glad you forced our hand a bit. I don’t think any of that was easy.”

He didn’t have to elaborate, or say who he meant. I knew now. “Not as hard as you think. Not at least when you know the people you’re talking to.”

“That night was a disaster waiting to happen,” he shook his head. “You were being brave whether or not you will say and I wanted you to know. Plus I’m not averse to admitting when I’m wrong. Your mate is already proving to be very entertaining.”

The small discomfort of those rare moments of total sincerity slipped away and we both let it. I was grateful for all of it even when at times the vulnerability made me itch beneath my skin. I had no reply but luckily he dropped the subject, adding only one last thought.

“I know Rhys and Morr have cornered you but if you ever want to talk about what happened.”

“There are no words. Not yet anyway.”

Whatever qualms I had with my court, their allegiance to Rhys vs. their friendship with me, there was something irreplaceable in the world we shared between each other. No two were identical, and they arrived when I needed them. Cassian had a rare ability, I think given where he came from, to listen to someone talk without imposing his own worldview on the subject. In the right moods, he was always there without judgment, open to what I thought. To him, I was an equal, and he took me and my ideas very seriously. I would always love him for that.

The balcony to the house of wind came into view. I could see the court there waiting. We apparently took the scenic route. I turned to him and smiled, “Rhys is gonna eat us alive.”

As soon as we were in earshot I could hear the beginning of his reprimand. We landed softly and Cassian placed me in front of the frustrated High Lord.

“What if you’d split your stitches? That’s dangerous even when you’re not injured.”

I passed by him and patted his shoulder. “Noted.”

I could hear his teeth grinding. “Keep it up and Madja will be removing those stitches at a 6 am training session.”

I sneered if only to make him feel the threat was legitimate, but I doubted his making good on those comments. I walked straight to Lucien whom Morr had taken into conversation.

“Unlike your brother, we found the show very entertaining.”

“Cassian and I should consider alternative employment, a traveling band maybe,” I said looking over my shoulder toward the male who looked for all the world like his normal self again. His smile was easy, his eyes bright.

A hand clamped down on my other side, however, and Azriel’s voice drew everyone’s attention.“You’d need to be employed for there to be an alternative.”

I let them have it, their laugh, if only because Lucien laughed too. It was without malice and I could handle the same tired jokes for that sake.

Any comment I had ready slipped away from importance but I said, only to keep up appearances, “I like you better gone.”

The others took their joy indoors. Flying had actually hurt my side and I let them go ahead to avoid Rhys catching me limping. I wouldn’t be fast enough to evade one of his lectures. I found the railing of the balcony and looked out over the city as their voices faded, tucked beneath a gust of wind then gone altogether.

“Is it like this all the time where you’re from?”

I knew he was there. He’d gotten in the habit of waiting for me now twice. Whenever the Cauldron decided to pull that thread between two hearts, from that point on, I suspect, I began to know the difference from the air alone of what rooms he was and wasn’t in.

The windows below dimmed and grew in brightness. It was the city’s pulse, it told me this place was living. I was always acutely aware of the lights, what it meant that another person was there in those houses, those rooms. At times it overwhelmed me, that within a few hundred windows lived people who, like me, had their own worries, duties, their own hearts. They were at the mercy of the same Cauldron, they wanted things and didn’t get them, and tried to understand that which could never be understood.

Lucien pressed his hands into the cool stone railing and watched just as I watched.

“Sometimes,” he said. I wanted to go into his memories. I could see how his mind went further than I could see or know. “The best time of year is really at the end of summer or just before. I like to sleep with the windows open then, wake to the cold.”

“Do you?”

He nodded, “I like the cold.”

“It's too bad this isn’t Winter Court.”

He huffed a laugh, “not that kind and not too much. By midday, the wind might be cool but the sunlight is warm, that's really it. I like a cold I can chase away.”

A breeze came up over the edge and I folded into myself, trying to preserve what little heat was left from flying with Cassian. Lucien turned and I followed. Any longer alone and I wasn’t sure we’d manage to make it out of dinner without being at the end of every joke.

“Do you have wings?”

I shook my head. “No. I spent plenty of time in the air though.”

“I could’ve guessed.”

He smiled at me then. The kind of smile you give someone when you’ve first met them and it's selfish really, but all you want is for them to find you funny or charming, or anything good. We were in that place, the other place that felt like another world. We’d found our way back to something and I wanted to keep it very carefully in my hands, but I wasn’t sure of its dimensions. I was only sure I would crush it.

We passed into the house and it warmed me to my bones. I waited for the threshold to bring with it the real world waiting, but the one we’d found remained firmly in place. I couldn’t explain it, how I knew, I just understood it the way I had used to understand him. I knew the rules without having to be told, that what happened here happened only here. So I could be brave.

“You haven’t come to see me. I thought you would, after we spoke.”

He stopped at the top of the stairs and waited but didn’t put his arm out. “I told you, I’m at your disposal.”

“You told that to Rhys.”

“I was talking to you.”

I wiped my palms again, then grabbed for the railing. We moved slowly for the pain but Lucien didn’t act as if we were doing anything out of the ordinary. You’d have thought he lived with leisure, that we’d always taken our time with each other.

“Is it not enough for you then, to know I’ve been waiting?”

“You haven’t asked for me.”

A cool draft reached my back, brushing around my ankle. I shivered, and within the same instant my ankle gave way and I stumbled on it down the next stair. Lucien was already there, arms open like he knew it was going to happen. We said nothing, not as I waited a moment in the warmth that seeped through his clothes, or when we began walking again, his arm a ghost around my waist for support.

“It's not so simple.”

“What’s it like then?”

We reached a small landing. I could hear the smattering of laughter spilling out from the dining room down the hall. Over his shoulder I spied the ornate walls, the decoration of the house. It was reminiscent, in the slightest of ways, of the Autumn house. Something over the top, something old about it. Though it was darker than night court there. Colder too. Did he have something like Velaris? Some place he could be himself?

“You don’t feel it?” I said, the way we went in and out of these places where we could and couldn’t be as we’d been. One room we’re on each other just as we always used to be and then we take the stairs and suddenly an arm is tucked beneath you in favor, from someone who’d sooner laughed if you’d admitted you were in pain.

“Feel what?”

The universe began to recede on that point and I no longer had the courage. I thought we came here together but it wasn’t true, I was alone. Lucien stepped with me. We moved in silence. I know he felt my disappointment straining near his heart and pushing into it. I knew when he’d been overtaken by it, my own feelings grew twofold.

At the bottom of the stairs, I forced down the feeling, and did the only thing I could think to recover the easiness and joy of the night.

“Watch out for Amren, she bites,” I joked.

Lucien gave nothing away, his lips didn’t pull in any direction and his forehead was creaseless. His disappointment remained. When he set his eyes on me there was such an intensity I knew he wouldn’t let me get away with any of it. He never did.

“I’ve been waiting for you too.”

Everyone was huddled together, wine in hand, already at ease. I went ahead of Lucien his disappointment in me unearthing the need to act as a shield. As we got in, however, I found only softness seemed to be waiting. Laughter, warmth, food at the table, and the turn of a few heads in our direction in greeting. You’d think we’d done it all before, a thousand times, you’d think Lucien had always been here. I felt my mate’s curiosity replace the heaviness and I let that relieve me just enough to get through dinner. There would be a time to answer his question, he’d be sure to ask again, but for now, we would eat.

It was Morr who acknowledged us first, and I knew from her words our absence was not totally unchecked.

“Finally.”

There she was, the not-quiet fae. Her black hair, dark as night, turned to reveal her cutting face. Amren said nothing and approached with ease, preternatural elegance that even for a Fae looked somewhat too perfect, too serene. The fierceness, to me who knew her, managed though to soften on the edges like dawn.

“With all that blood you shed, girl, you’d have been better use coming to me.”

“And when all my blood made you sick you’d curse me in death too,” I said. Lucien stilled behind me, unsure of the danger, of what Amren was. “Still holding a grudge over the wine I spilled on you last Starfall?”

“I’m truly immortal. We do not forgive.” Her eyes darted toward Lucien who didn’t show any sort of reserve now, even as she grew more serious and the air around us shifted to accommodate her. “They said they asked for the lares.”

At that word, we all went just as still as Amren. It was a pristine instant, broken only by the nod of my head in confirmation. Lucien, to his credit, took a step toward me, his presence unflinching, his protection instinctual. It didn’t matter that Amren had that aura to her, the kind that upon first meeting could unsettle you because there was something about her that you couldn’t place.

She turned her attention toward the male and looked up at him, “so, it was you who managed to get her back to Velaris?”

He was his usual self, indifference bordering on cold, “in part.”

“And how was that?”

I doubt Lucien wasn’t aware of how much his answer would offer. Everyone was waiting to hear what he’d say and though I said I wanted them to be nice, this would settle a dust he’d kicked up in his arrival here. He looked more fully toward me now and his brows rose. “She’s put me through worse.”

Of all those who gathered, the last person I suspected would offer their good opinion was Amren. The small dangerous thing before me relaxed her mouth in the most mute way. She only smiled when it was her own doing, but tonight, I saw that slight uptick. If you’d asked me which was more likely, this or the world-shattering into pieces I’d have chosen the latter.

“Why did you never mention your mate was handsome?”

I didn’t get the chance to think on the impossibility before she was talking to me again. I recovered the emissary of parties past. The usual dryness came back with that usual flat voice like it never left.

“Because he isn’t.”

Rhys came up and clapped Lucien on the shoulder, the most I’d ever seen him do for any male I brought around, and said, “we, more than anyone, have the greatest sympathy for you.” Then he handed him a glass of wine. Lucien took a celebratory sip. He’d passed the test and Rhys was right, he fit right in.

“Is that why Cassian wished me luck?” Lucien asked.

Morr looked between them, “luck with what?”

“He said I’d need it with her given she’s a bit of a—“

“Well I didn’t say that exactly.” Cassian interrupted.

Lucien probably recognized the look better than anyone, the face of someone unimpressed, even as he felt the entertainment I let simmer beneath the surface of my face. “Do explain then, what precisely you said.”

Though Cassian’s mouth opened and closed not one word came out. I bet I could guess what he’d said, she’s a bit of a handful. He’d know, before I’d perfected the art of sneaking males in and out, he’d found me tip toeing out the door or hiding in the cabin several times. Took years to recover any Illyrian's trust that we would not be caught together. Everyone looked on at him waiting to see how he’d dig his way out, but no remedy came to mind. The more he stuttered the further our mouths stretched with amusement.

“Cassian can explain over dinner,” Rhysand said, sparing him.

As the male walked up to me all smiles, arms outstretched for reconciliation, I sent my fist into his bicep. He acted like it hurt. Cassian led me away going on about how he’d only said it as a joke and because he wanted to welcome my mate. I wasn’t really interested, I was preoccupied with my brother's attention still remaining on Lucien. I couldn’t hear what Rhys said, but I could feel it. I couldn’t pretend not to notice that fullness warming between my ribs. The pair of them were smiling, they shared some sort of camaraderie. I could see it, even at a distance, he actually liked Lucien.

Cassian pulled out my chair and I sat, the same spot I’d sat in a thousand times. I watched my brother who had the same face, the same gesture of talking as he would with any of us, but now it was directed at someone who, a week ago, he almost killed.

I tried not to smile or eavesdrop as I let them share something, whatever it was that could develop in so short a time. Rhys had said there was a case to be made, his sudden regard. I didn’t need to know what had changed for him, not yet anyway. In that well of anxiety I had for Lucien, I felt another part empty.

Different or the same, that was how the world functioned now. What was different and what was the same. Maybe everything had changed at the same time in the same way and therefore I couldn’t tell the difference. I could go the rest of my life uncovering what those little things are. No, these things are never so easy.

The chair beside me moved and I turned expecting Morr, but as I looked I saw her on the other side of the table. In her place I found Lucien. He hesitated, looking around for somewhere else to sit but all the rest of the places had been taken, with Rhys falling into the chair at the head, smirking.

He wouldn’t know, couldn’t, that all of this was out of the ordinary. We’d sat in the same spots for years. Rhys must have known I was about to reprimand him, regardless of using magic or not, because he shielded his mind and turned away from me to speak with Amren. I rubbed at my side. At the very least, however, my cousin seemed to take pity on him. I’m sure he’d have liked to be anywhere else after our conversation in the hall.

“Have you been yet to walk along the Sydra?”

He shook his head, sipped from his glass. I felt a tightness, almost sickly, of the casualness he had there in that spot. His every move was reminiscent of a routine he couldn’t have. He passed dishes, poured water, and spoke with Morr like an old friend we’d not seen in too long. He didn’t acknowledge me or my watching, but he rubbed at his chest where the bond must be. I forced myself to relax, to turn and speak with Azriel on my other side.

“The moment I’m healed I think we need to go out.”

“Is that so?” He feigned the air of not wanting to go. He didn’t even look up as he piled vegetables on one side of his plate and passed me the warm dish. I knew he was interested though, if Cassian and I as a pair could be chaotic, Azriel and I managed to be dangerous.

I leaned in whispering, “think of all the fun we have at dawn flying home. I could wing woman you too.”

“ I don’t recall you being very effective the last time you promised that.”

“She was a real dud and what I don’t recall is you being so skeptical of me the dozen other times you left the place arm and arm with someone.”

He smiled, “2henever you’re ready to be back in Madja’s care we’ll go.

I don’t know when that night would come around, if it were the kind of plans you make with an air of understanding that they will likely reside for a while in your dreamland. It might end up being the topic of many diners beginning with, we should, we have to, or when are we... If it did happen, however, wherever my life was at that point I knew Azriel would demand nothing of me in explanation. It would be nice, to feel for a moment I wasn’t avoiding something. And if I felt the need to say something he might impart some passing wisdom or just listen.

Azriel leaned in closer to me, murmuring, “don’t invite Cassian though. With him and your brother around I don’t want their lack to rub off on me.”

“You two are making plans,” Cassian said pointing his fork at us. “Am I invited?”

“Depends,” I said.

“On?”

“If you get Rhys to come or not.”

Upon hearing his name, he halted his conversation with Amren and looked our way, brow lifted as indication that he was prepared to hear our offer. Cassian cleared his throat with a sense of formality, “we’re in need of a proper night out.”

“Fall is almost in full swing,” Morr added joining the cause. “We’ve barely caused a ruckus.”

“Barely is pretty generous,” Azriel said.

I knocked him with my foot and he laughed under his breath. Rhysand’s eyes scanned the room. Somewhere, you’d think, a reason not to do it was waiting and I was sure he’d find it. Our night out all together would remain a whimsical ideal. We’d bother him for several months, over too many dinners, a hundred courses, just to hear him finally say yes when none of us were around to partake in it.

“Any thoughts Amren?”

“I certainly have energy to expel.” She said but this was always true. “Whether we go or not it shall come out.”

“Easy there. You scare more males than Y/N does,” Cassian said.

She faced off with the warrior without a blink. “With good reason.”

Rhys gave no hint as to what he would rule which usually meant no. I rolled my eyes and slumped back in my chair. He had screwed his face into such neutrality I was sure he would say we had too much work to do, that dealing with Beron was taking up all his time.

“And you?”

Lucien seemed just as caught out by the consideration, sitting upright having not anticipated the attention.“What about me?”

“I won’t carry dead weight. Do they have fun over in Autumn Court or are you as sad as I always believed?”

He’d never seen him as I had seen him. Hungover at breakfast, sneaking sips of wine from his cup to recover or the wickedness of his smile as he’d tower over some female and move to whisper something in her ear. Insults got wielded so easily the later the night went on. Promises to meet after hours to finish a fight were exchanged so readily. Even if he did often brood, Lucien was no stranger to the fun of other courts.

“I’ll manage,” Lucien said like he couldn’t care less, but his eyes slipped over to me and I knew Rhys had seen. After the show I’d made with Cassian and the conversation we’d had in the foyer if he thought everyone was getting together on my account, it would do us no favors.

But Rhys offered up the usual conditions of such a night, “first one to turn in has to pay the tab.”

So, he remembered how to have fun. Rhys raised his glass in my direction and I returned the gesture. Conversations picked up, but I felt a shift in my mind. I froze. My shields has fallen. I hadn’t noticed him arrive, didn’t know what thoughts he had or hadn’t heard.

You think so poorly of me. He didn’t seem too put out by my assessment.

With good reason.

C’mon, you used to be so much more fun!

I could say the same to you. You’re so dull these days.

Lucien spoke animatedly with Cassian. Rhys and I looked between them and without any words I knew we both were registering how dangerous the pair would be together. They’d need to meet their match eventually. My brother and I could be that. We were likely the most wretched children in all of Prythian and we were, usually, a united force. For all his worth, all his poking his nose in and needing to be High Lord, he was just as often my willing accomplice.

We’ll have to give your mate a proper welcome.

From across the table, Rhys ate as if we weren’t plotting revenge. I smiled, and I think Cassian too should pay the price for his comments tonight.

I could not agree more.

It will be a night to remember I’m sure.

I hope it is. I can’t stand to imagine you forgetting that every so often I like to return to the job of being your very mischievous older brother.

With that, I was alone in my thoughts. Rhys was right though, it was good to remember I could count on him. I’d spent how long dealing with their nosiness, I could let myself be both annoyed and endeared that they cared enough, that for some reason they saw Lucien fit enough despite all those years, to try and welcome.

I waited for the conversation to drift my way, watching the same pairs break off and reform but nothing, not even a side comment or reference was pointed in my direction. In fact, after a while, it occurred to me that no one was even looking toward this part of the table. Morr was fixed on Cassian, Rhys too, kept his careful attention on Amren, and I saw only the back of Azriel’s head. It might have meant nothing, but the more I noticed, the more I thought, the less certain I was of each coincidence.

I clenched my jaw and looked toward my brother who, just as I met his face, reengaged with Amren. Not a shield, but just as good. He was giving me no choice. He’d revealed his plans, he had no reason to be coy, and he wanted us to work our business out. This was apparently where he best thought to do it.

I kept my head down and ate. I would’ve been more annoyed had I felt, at my chest, the anxiety of someone who like me was searching for something to say. Lucien though did no such thing. He was just as satisfied as I was to keep to himself. They didn’t get it, the sureness we shared at one time, or how it felt now sitting tying us together. And the funny thing is, I might have had so much to say, might have pulled him in on whatever stories they were telling across the table and tried to get what we had back, the understanding I used to have. The forced circumstances only managed to obliterate what had been in my head besides the last real thing we’d said to each other.

I’ve been waiting for you too.

I’d made it clear, I know I had, that I wanted him around. He still waited. All that power we’d given one another to use and I don’t know if we were using it at all. A few passing comments, veiled acknowledgments that we were feeling the other nearly all the time. We were pretending to use that vulnerability under the guise of jokes we’d have made before all of this, but really we were doing nothing. We’ll figure things out just as we always have. But we hadn’t and we had to soon, Rhys was right.

“Madja said,” my brother began when his attempts to get us to talk proved fruitless. “That you should get out and walk for an hour each day starting tomorrow.”

I looked at him, a brow raised. He didn’t know that he didn’t have to do this anymore. I had already decided to change, regardless of the universe we found ourselves in after dinner. I could have my fun too, then, because even if he was right I’d already won.

“Did she? I don’t remember her saying so,” I said. “She told me privately.”

He was shameless. If Lucien didn’t notice our exile from other conversations he’d at least see this. As I expected, Rhys turned to my mate who’d stopped eating when the healer had been mentioned.

“Lucien, you wouldn’t mind going with her would you?”

The only real noise was the creak of Lucien’s chair as he shifted back. Everyone was listening. No one offered themselves in Lucien’s place or volunteered shifts as they had when I was bedridden. I knew they wouldn’t and part of me still thought someone would come to my aid, would know somehow that I got it now.

“No I don’t mind,” he said.

“Then it’s settled!” Cassian said clapping his hands together, “maybe if she’s up to it she can tell you about the winter she spent at the cabin.”

“I think I will,” I smiled. “After I tell them about the building you smashed to rubble in Summer Court.”

I took a sip of my wine and watched over the rim, the faces dropping around the table. Any noise that had been lingering from before vanished and an even more perfected quiet was left in the wake of my revelation. Of all the faces, Amren in particular seemed the least amused.

“Excuse me?” Rhys said.

“Hm?” I deflected the storytelling to the male himself.

Cassian had to have been waiting for this since it happened. He continued to cut at his food, taking a bite before he sat back in his chair. The words seemed to formulate in front of him like the story itself was so complex he had to seek out the perfect way to tell it.

He swallowed first, “It wasn’t even an important building.”

Azriel allowed himself a breathy laugh and nodded to me in approval. If ever there were a time to share it now was it.

“Why hasn’t Tarquin said anything to me?” Rhys asked.

“Y/N asked him not to.”

A betrayal for a betrayal. All eyes turned back to me. For someone who had just said he could be mischievous, Rhys found little amusement in the story and even less appreciation that I handled the situation entirely. A reprimand swished in his mouth like the first taste of wine you have before ordering the bottle.

“You make it seem as though I asked him not to tattle on you. I stayed one extra day and we had dinner and I apologized and smoothed it over.” I said before he could yell.

“And?”

“Cassian is, unfortunately, not allowed back to Adriata.”

“Well I am I just have to pay them back for the building, but they wanted a ridiculous price.”

My brother seemed to deflate, “how much?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

Accepting this at face value, he sighed. “Any other confessions I should consider?”

“Of what nature? I know quite a few secrets I’ve been dying to tell.” Amren asked having found the humor in it all just the same as the rest of us. Her eyes slid toward Azriel and he looked away, but the interest immediately stuck with us all.

“Do I want to know?” Rhys said and I could tell he did. Amren wouldn’t keep anything truly bad to herself too long.

“Azriel has been known to enjoy himself at Summer Court as well.”

“Amren,” Azriel said in warning. “I know just as much about you from our trip as you know about me.”

She grew serious and crossed her arms. “See if I care boy.” Though it was obvious she did. She sipped her wine and revealed nothing.

To my surprise, however, a familiar taunting voice struck the room from beside me. “That wouldn’t happen to have been the trip you got locked out of Cressida’s room, nude, would it Azriel?”

In all my time of knowing Lucien, he had surprised me, both with his wretchedness and his behavior in other courts. One thing that I knew as well as I knew myself, however, was he was a good emissary. He could talk himself into any place he went, and so it should have been no surprise that he was just as amiable, but I felt so anyway. It was obvious now, between what I’d said to Rhys and then this, he fit in. Not just when the court welcomed him, but long before he’d ever known of this place to begin with.

Cassian for all the world looked like he had been told the greatest news of his life. He pressed his hands into his face and laughed tipping his head back into the air with such exertion I thought he might fall backward in his chair. Azriel didn’t seem at all phased by the revelation much less that it was Lucien who’d said it.

“Yeah and if I recall when you’d found me you were arm and arm with her mother.”

Rhys had to break then. All his anger relinquished itself the fact his court was foolish, and he loved them, especially when he was reminded just how foolish they could be.

I didn’t get the chance to laugh though, a burning struck my side. Before the next confession could be wielded, a quick sheet of darkness fell around me and pooled beneath the table. It was just longer than a blink, and in the quiet burning realization of what had happened, there was only the sound of clinking. Overhead the chandelier swung haphazardly, something had knocked it. I clutched at my side.

Cassian smirked. “Are you jealous Y/N?”

Lucien turned to me, a dangerous pair these two would be indeed, and smirked as if waiting for my confirmation of it. He could feel it no doubt, lashing around in his ribs trying to strike. Regardless of these perfect circumstances, what existed in the bond between us was truly unspoken.

“Why shouldn’t she be?” Morr said before I could take the heat and as soon as I heard her voice I felt my stomach in my throat. “After she saw him all those years ago she developed quite the crush.”

“You said you’d never tell!”

Morr smiled, she knew I had no other option than to confirm what she’d said. Not only that, but she was one of the few of us who remained unscathed by this sudden honesty hour. “I said no such thing. I promised you could tell me.”

Lucien sucked in his cheeks and suppressed the laughter in the way the rest of my court did not. I’d had a crush on him for all of one night, not even. It was shortly after Rhys became High Lord, when things were feeling normal again, but he’d wanted everyone at our first engagement just in case. We’d been informed Beron’s sons would be there, but they didn’t know which.

“Any combination will be particularly wretched, so Cassian will be with you,” Rhys said as we walked into the garden they’d gathered us into. Tarquin was hosting, and in the heat and promise of perpetual summer, everyone was full of life, mingling. They’d strung up these lights which emitted the warmest glow, like daylight or the closest thing to it I have ever seen against a night sky. I stared at them when we walked in, as Rhys gave out the orders. They looked almost romantic to me, something like love in a bottle. He’d been standing beside Tamlin, Lucien was the first person I saw when I finally looked at the place, really looked. He was laughing.

I don’t know how long I was staring, but I could feel the look on my face. Infatuation personified, Morr had said and whenever I remembered those words together I was viscerally back in that moment, watching him laugh, not caring who he was because I knew from that first look.

“Do you like him?” Morr asked pulling me aside.

I looked over my shoulder and saw him approach someone for a dance. There was an instant desperation, a pressure sitting in me that I had to let it out somehow.

“You won’t tell?”

It was a short-lived opinion, however. All night I stood there, my first party, and no one asked me to dance. Though I couldn’t say for certain if it was reputation, Cassian did not help remedy any nerves.

“Who are you?” Eris had said when Cassian had slipped away to get us a drink. The night was half over but for a moment I thought it could be beginning. From context clues, it wasn’t so difficult to work out who he was either, but I didn’t care, I was just glad for the attention. I didn’t let that show. Even before Lucien, it was a dry business, talking to Autumn Court males.

“We shouldn’t be speaking.”

“Why's that?”

“I’m Night Court, we’re not exactly meant to mingle.”

It made him laugh, one of the few times I managed it, and it made me feel reckless, more confident than I should have been. “I should have guessed. Rhysand’s infamous sister.”

“Please.”

“I’m serious, I’d never feed the ego of any of you for no reason.”

“What's your reason now?”

He shrugged, “I think it’ll be funny to see that Illyrian’s face when he returns and sees who you deign to talk to.”

I turned to see if Cassian was on his way back, but he was nowhere to be found. “He won’t care.”

“Why.”

“Because I already decided I would lie if he showed up.”

Eris was handsome and I knew that as he stood there before me, his own cruelty was a distant future. I wouldn’t see him for 25 years after that night and even then it was sparse. It was Lucien after that, always Lucien. To the point that the only way I got Eris to laugh after was by doing so at his brother’s expense.

“I’ll have to do something undeniable then.”

“Like?’

“Ask you to dance.”

I was silent. It wasn’t that I thought he was kidding, I knew he wasn’t. I didn’t know if I would say yes and if I didn’t say yes I wasn’t sure what I’d say instead. Against the warmth of the lights, he hadn’t seemed so terrible as they’d made him out to be. So I thought, apparently for too long, because someone else had gathered their opinion and was ready to share it.

“You wouldn’t.” From behind Eris, Lucien was standing within earshot. Even for all I liked him that night, the way I had been drawn to him, I hadn’t noticed his arrival. The moment Eris looked back at me, however, I felt the diminishing sureness of my place in the world. I wanted Cassian to come back and I didn’t know when he would. “The only thing you have going for you besides your future as a High Lord is you never sully yourself, not even with her.”

His reaction was visceral, even I felt it. I was disgusting to him. Enough that just acknowledging me repulsed him. Though it was not the last insult he’d ever say to me, it was the only compliment I ever heard him make to his brother.

Eris laughed, it was false, malicious now, and turned toward his brother. “Who would have thought, you of all people.”

The two walked off. I slipped behind a shrub and wiped at my eyes. No one else spoke to me. It was the only birthday I ever cried.

Lucien must have remembered just as much as I did of that night, because where he’d felt a kind of fondness it quickly dissolved into a wave of shame. I didn’t like to think about it, though his opinion seemed almost violent he’d never had such a reaction to me again. Late on I said it was our duty. When we met again we observed a century-long tradition of hating one another, but it was never so volatile as that first time.

“I knew it,” Rhys said with such vindication it pulled us from the memory. I’d worked years and years, dodging their remarks with sincerity. They knew, they said, that secretly beneath all that hate and annoyance was something secretly fond. Morr would join in but I’d considered her more of an ally to me all this time. But what a coincidence, that she chose to reveal it only once Lucien had sat down at our table.

“What did she say? Dear diary,” Cassian began writing on a phantom paper. “I met the most beautiful male tonight.”

“The little 100-year-old fae with a crush on a big bad male,” Rhys said.

My brother seemed too content having, apparently, nothing to share of his own embarrassment in all these years. He harbored all the arrogance in the world, believing he was invincible. How quickly he forgot of his sister who knew him just as well as he knew her. I could tell he’d realized just what I had ready to share. The very thing that this court had spent a century and a half trying to confirm.

“And what can be said for the High Lord who was caught fucking our tutor in the hall closet by our mother.”

More than the whole room I think really the world paused, before, at long last, everyone let out a roar of laughter. If there were more secrets to be shared no one said them.

***

After dinner we all stood around for a long time, finishing our wine and talking. All tensions faded with our individual triumphs and satisfactions and peace descended like mist over the hills. Every so often the thing in my chest with which Lucien was connected buzzed with emotions that the male did well of hiding. Flickers of undiagnosed sadness, pleasure, and even for some reason moments of endearment carved their way into my chest like I was receiving a second heart. I wasn’t sure what was strong enough to make its way to him, if he felt always my emotions as the echo of his own.

That sound of the room took on that quality it does when you realize someone is close to announcing they’re going home. The night had worn itself down. I went to find Lucien, to pull him aside, but sometime between two big feelings, he’d gotten away. He wasn’t there. I scanned as unsuspecting as possible the areas I could see. He was nowhere, not in the hallway or down the stairs. I listened, tuning everyone out, but even then he remained lost.

“Go,” Rhys said.

I looked at my glass, half of it left and the thought of drinking it turned my stomach.“Are you scheming?”

“Not this time.” He smiled holding his hand out for the cup to finish it. I downed the wine myself and let its bitter dry flavor burn.

I wandered the hall first, the library downstairs could draw him in just as the one at home. How often he would peruse Helion’s. Or the other rooms he’d yet to see. I leaned against the railing, the banister cold compared to his body on mine as he helped me down the stairs. It was only when I stopped thinking that I understood.

I strained at the process of taking each small step upward. It didn’t occur to me that I would need the help. After flying and the accidental use of magic each step took great effort. The bond tipped him off. After the first half of the stairs, he found me instead. He moved with an urgency he hadn’t had earlier, down to meet me with his arm outstretched.

It had become chillier outside, cooler than when we’d arrived. Tonight, when all of us went to sleep, would he open that window and think of home? The blankets be up to his chin and the tip of his nose colder than all the rest, from an autumn tinted by winter. We’d just made it to the balcony, the fabric of my clothes snagging on the stone, when Lucien finally spoke.

“There was a reason I was rarely at home,” he said, as if the tether between us relayed words just as well as feelings. I waited for his grief, his pain, to find its way to my chest, the memories of home, but they did not come. He had never wanted to stay, or else had never imagined it. Yet there was fondness just the same. “You though, this is where you should be.”

Doubt. It struck before I could confess as much myself. His face softened and I knew he felt what I’d revealed. It would have been fine if we’d been in the other place, the one that we didn’t mention. The rules of secrecy felt more secure. I knew he wouldn’t tell, I think I just wanted the easy thing.

“You understand, yes?”

“I do.”

The eventual fallacy of the place that made you, that you grow older, that other places make you over again and you can’t go back. I didn’t want to leave the way he wanted to leave, but there was a terrifying thought that had settled long before the night Lucien came. I belonged here, but I could belong somewhere else too. I was not like them even if we’d been made of the same thing.

It was a faraway thought and I didn’t give it much power over me. I took comfort in the fact that no one could make me go, not anymore. Not Beron or marriage to some male across the continent. That power resided with me entirely.

“I don’t know why it never occurred to me how well you’d do here.”

“Am I doing well?”

“You don’t think so?”

He was closer than when we’d first arrived tonight, his shoulder rubbing mine when he shrugged. He didn’t see it, not as I did, what was happening. Tonight was probably the first time he realized that they were accepting him.

“They like you,” I said staring at my shoes. Lucien moved just a fraction closer, sidestepping, and I saw. I was waiting for that seam in the world to slip over us so I could say the last part, but this was the same universe, the same Lucien. “I like you here.”

He leaned against the railing, as I’d seen him do a hundred times before, though it was the first time he’d ever so casually done so with me. He looked just as cool as he always seemed. When I let out my breath, it was shaky. He knew it, he heard it. Yet even in that small turn, the opening of his body to my own I felt braver. If I wanted to I could close the distance so easily. No one was here to see it, no one was coming to interrupt.

“I’m sorry I haven’t asked for you.”

“Y/N—” he began but I stopped him.

“It's rare, for me to apologize to you, so just take it.”

A deep breathy laugh rose from far in his chest. I was met with the warmth of his face as he smiled at me in a way he never had before. It wasn’t even familiar at a distance, from catching him slyly approaching females from across a room. I held my head in my palm, leaning toward him like we were in some corner of a party and no one else mattered. Not that anyone else did anyway, even if they were here. The whole of Velaris was at our fingertips, my family downstairs and likely soon approaching, and none of it mattered in the slightest.

“What did you mean when you said it didn’t have to be the same forever?”

“You asked me if things would be back to normal in the morning. I didn’t really have a vision of the future, I just knew I didn’t want to go back.”

“But we did.”

He nodded, “Yes. When we were together briefly it felt like real life had taken over. I tried to figure out a way to get back to the ease we’d found when you brought me here, but it wasn’t so easy. And—”

So he had known, he felt it, that place we’d go to. His acknowledgment of it forced its return. The universe manifested around us like a reward for the hard thing we’d already done by being brave without its certainties.

“And?”

Laughter broke open the atmosphere from far below. Did all of Velaris seek out their friends and family on nights like tonight? A connection, running through the very foundation of this city, leaving us all tethered to each other by love.

“I didn’t want to lose everything entirely either.”

That dynamic I’d found so entertaining all these years, if we woke the following morning and had reinvented our existence beside one another entirely I’m sure I’d miss it too. I didn’t even consider it, that it was something we could lose.

“I don’t know if it's in our nature to be at peace and agreeable too long with each other.”

“I’ve worked as much out.”

“What gave it away?”

“The garden.”

A breeze folded up over the city and pushed my hair over my shoulders. I shivered at its delivery. Lucien noticed with an instinct that I didn’t want to call primal. It would diminish the intention of it, that he had done so with good manners and care. He pulled me against his body and turned us away so that he blocked most of the wind.

“Do you know now, how you’d want things to be different?” I asked.

“Mostly.”

“You’ll visit me then?”

“Yes.”

“And?” I said. We were guessing, terrified and guessing all of the time. He’d become better at knowing what I meant and I was beginning to understand him again in small ways, but we were both equally unsure. No doubt we were equally afraid.

“You’ll laugh.” His palm met my cheek. His large hand spread across my face leaving nothing but warmth. The fire in him, in his blood, made sure to chase away the cold.

“I won’t. I promise,” I said, meeting his softness with my own. “Not when you managed to spare me after you learned of my crush.”

I expected to find softness on his features but instead, he looked more stern, stoic as usual. He almost even looked confused, but he relaxed quickly and he brushed the hair from my face. I had no entry to his mind, no free reign, to know what occupied his thoughts so fully. Even if I did, however, I wouldn’t use it. So instead I waited to see if he would reveal it on his own.

“Why should I, when I only just admitted I’d always found you beautiful.”

My heart pressed against my ribcage like Lucien had pulled at it. Always. Not now, or 50 years ago, always always always. Even when he’d said what he’d said to Eris about me, he thought it then and he thought it now. He wasn’t being kind to me because I was pretty again, because I’d always been pretty.

“I never thought…” I began, but the words ceased to exist. I leaned my forehead into his chest like the warmth would revive my mind as the water had that afternoon to my body.

“Because I wouldn’t let you.”

For the first time in all my life, I felt afraid of what would happen if I looked at him the way he had at me. I wanted to hide exactly nothing, not the blush at my cheeks or the question in my brow. And it scared me, the intensity with which I wanted to see him and be seen in return because I knew that we would. It would be mutual now, in a way that had once only belonged to him. There was no undoing it if I lifted my head. So I did.

“How much time have we wasted?” I asked, unsure of what I really meant by it entirely. Lucien thought on it, refusing to answer right away.

“Just enough I should think.”

“I don’t wish to rush.”

“And what about real life?” I asked.

“What about it?”

“When things return to normal, as they will, you'll feel differently.”

“And?”

“And I will be left to want what I have never wanted before.”

“How do you mean?” He said.

“Every night since you came to my room I’ve held my own hands to fall asleep.”

If it weren’t for the bond I’d have felt I’d said something wrong, something that made him sad or hurt his feelings by the way his face suddenly held no emotion at all. Instead, though he let go of me, pulled away, and braced himself against the railing looking out at the city. I’d have asked why, would have acted out, had the sound of approaching laughter not reached me first. A moment later everyone was up on the terrace with us.

“Shall we?” Cassian said with a smile as he grabbed my shoulder. This interruption was far less welcome. I couldn’t exactly say what or how Cassian knew but he seemed to be aware of just what was being interrupted. I hoped one day to return the favor. I nodded, repeating the same routine amusement I had when Lucien had stood awkwardly with Rhys outside the townhouse before Cassian lifted me into his arms and we were gone.

At home, just as the house quieted and I had lifted the covers to my bed I heard a soft knock at the door. I almost would have thought it was the floorboards and windows settling but I checked anyway. Opening the door, the moonlight falling in sheets behind me, I saw in its glow Lucien. He had kept the stony face he’d taken on at the house of wind, hiding what down the bond I could still feel. In the faint light I saw it now, his cheeks flushed pink. In my chest too, I felt the embers of something like attraction. I would have gone to get a sweater, asked him to wait so I might cover up, had he not spoken first.

“Give me your hand.”

Letting go of the door forced it open more and I knew now he saw me even more clearly, but I tried not to care. I tried to remind myself what had already been revealed. I gave him my hand and he took it gently, like he was scared even of being too hard and was overcompensating by barely holding on at all. He flipped it over in his, exposing the palm, and raised it just enough so he could bow his head and meet my skin with his lips. I watched him linger, felt the warmth along the sensitive skin, and tried to memorize how his mouth felt so I could try, tonight, to recreate the touch in other places.

“What was that for?” I said as he pulled away and let go.

“To give you a hunger I could satisfy.”

#21K words!#lucien x reader #lucien vanserra #lucien fanfic #acotar fanfiction #lucien acotar #sjm books #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #night court

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imminent-danger-came · 5 months

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This may be a reach but

Both MK and Mei having something inside them that could be world-destroying, god-killing, and being afraid of it (with a bonus of Wukong hiding it from them both but idk if u think swk knew of the monkey form beforehand)

Bonus with Mei and MK having someone that can/has helped with training and mastering their abilities (Redson & Wukong respectively)

Oh boy, do I think SWK knew about MK's origins!

I've been a believer in this since post-s3, with there being plenty of evidence throughout the first 3 seasons to support it. Cause like, imma be honest, the show doesn't make sense if Wukong didn't know. I think by this point we can assume that choosing and training MK to be his "successor" was a cover story—Wukong LITERALLY couldn't have picked anyone else. I never really bought the whole "Monkey King gave you his powers!" explanation, especially when one of the first things he says to MK in AHIB is "Listen kid: You fought demons, and you didn't die, and you made it here! Not just anyone can lift my staff, but you did." And even MK had a different thought, thinking his powers came from the staff until 3x03. How would Wukong have even "given" MK his powers, like logistically anyways. There was just a lot that didn't line up! And then s4 came along, and implied "Yeah MK was born from the stone, and Wukong was there" and I was like, oh yeah that makes total sense.

And I'm also a believer in the Samadhi Fire Mei, Jade Emperor Azure, and Monkey MK trifecta of having uncontrollable, world-ending power (which they must also act as a "container" for). And you know, had the person losing control of the Jade Emperor's powers in 4x14 been one of MK's close friends, he would have been able to save them, I have no doubt. He already did so with Mei in 3x10—Mei wasn't even supposed to be able to withstand the samadhi fire. But she did (Yellowtusk "But he is my brother! I owe him my life!" parallel for the win, "No! Mei is my best friend!", YOU GET ME?). And it's like, in 3x10 MK standing by his friend was a good thing but in 4x13 Yellowtusk standing by his friend was bad. In s3 the gang trying to get the Samadhi Fire was "good" (even though they didn't really use it to defeat LBD by the end lol), and Azure trying to get the Jade Emperor's power was "bad". You see how the lines are blurring here. At the start of Monkey Kid, it's all monster of the week and "we have to stop the bad guys!". Now by this point it's "[blank] isn't necessarily a bad guy..." and "Every choice has consequences for someone", even the "good" ones. Is anyone hearing me.

And then don't even get me STARTED on "I can't be! I'm just MK!" "The Monkie Kid?". Because, I'll have you know Subodhi names Wukong in Journey to the West. I just read that chapter. And then in 4x06 he labels, or names, MK as the "Monkie Kid". And this "reason" just FEELS like it's going to involve a great amount of power, something that is...uncontrollable, even. And this time, this time when MK looses control, Mei is going to be the one to get through to him, aka Samadhi Fire Part 3. Like

#Red Son being a mentor figure to Mei like Wukong is a mentor figure to MK is good too #Sorry I completely went off the rails #THE LEGOS HAS MORE NUANCED WRITING THAN A LOT OF STUFF I'VE SEEN. I'M FUCKING TELLING YOU #I think I also had a realization while writing this post that broke me #Which was that like. Wukong wanted to put the Samadhi Fire in himself to beat LBD (his goal)#And Azure wanted to become the Jade Emperor to achieve his goals #Even if their lack of control could have doomed the entire world #And like. You know had the Jade Emperor not already been weak #I wonder if Azure would have resorted to using something like the Samadhi fire to end him.#And that thought just took me OUT #(sometimes I die when I remember that the gang has put their lives on the line over and over again to maintain the status quo)#FALLING APART OVER HERE #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk meta #YOU KNOW WHAT #MK Mei and Azure tag #power trifecta #asks #hereissananxiousmess

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henrioo · 2 months

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HEADCANNON — Do you see Killer as an TransMasc dude?

I mean… he may or may not have top surgery scars, which I’ll explain later, but what he actuall was before the pre-timeskip?

He was a man, who definitely was on T-shots not even half a year. Having a binder crushing his chest, moving fast — but hardly breathing, no wonder why his voice was rather deep. He tried to hide the fact that he hardly got any air during the fights or such.

The slimness during the Sabaody Arc, no facial hair, fast movements… that’s the second when my brain automatically shoved the thought of him being a part of the LGBTQ. Just look at this dude two years later:

He grew out his thick hair, took care of it. Jaw and chin covered in his golden goatee, while his body grew at least thrice as wide as two years before. Man… I know for sure that during those years he was high on his Testosterone level.

But the best part comes along with the explanation of the top surgery marks he might hide underneath his t-shirt. I believe that during the long time of waiting until the Kid Pirates come back to screen, Killer and his crew recently has visited the Revolutionary Army on their way to Wano.

And who’s the most queer diva in there? Of course it’s them — Ivankov.

The one who actually said: “Boy, you seem uncomfortable while moving. Do you perhaps need some help with gender dysphoria, hun’?”

Then the change happened, the scars lasted, but the short and painful process of his body turning fully male was worth it. Feeling like himself encouraged him to train more and gain weight, muscles, and all possible benefits.

So… if you ever read it, I really want to know your opinion about this. It’s not common to see a male-blog only, which I appreciate truly.

— Cheers, Musashi.

Okay I love this ask and I love you now and we two gonna be best friends okay?

And yes now I'm a only male blog and I genuinely love talking with more male authors we need to have a strong community

So here all my opinion about this

Like Sanji is a gay coded character for me, Killer is also one, and in the two examples I'm sure Oda didn't do it on purpose but he did a pretty good job

For me Killer has a lot of coded trans signals that make me feel he genuinely would be a perfect trans character, so here what I feel more

First his name, even one piece has some "weird" names, Killer looks more a name that someone would give to himself, not a weird normal name in one piece that someone would be born with

Since we don't know too much about the childhood of the kid pirates, it is hard to be sure, but I think it is obvious that killer chose his own name. If it is for the reason he is trans or not doesn't really matter, everyone can think whatever they want

Also the mask, we know that killer is far from being ugly but he always had the mask after he grew up a little, and I think that was pure insecure about his face. I think in the start before the T and those things people didn't take him seriously because his face wasn't really masculine or scary, and to try fight against that he started using the mask, also because that would help him having a more strong voice, since the mask would muffle his voice

Kid protection, I think is more than perfect their bond, and is obviously that Killer trusts in Kid his own life and soul. And for me this is the perfect way to show that Kid is a true ally to his friends transition, when they meet again in the prison he even asks to killer "where are your mask?" Because he knows his friend would never be without that

Not only that, he genuinely killed everyone that laughed about Killer no matter why they are laughing, that for me is perfect to show how Kid grows up seeing Killer suffering from intolerant people and becomes aggressive in a way to protect him

But I'm not sure about Iva, I don't think the Revolutionary Army would risk being close to Kid because he had one of the worst reputations between the pirates. And even if they would have a change the Kid owes a favor to them I don't think it would be a good choice, because they couldn't know if Kid would be pacific enough or not

And what we know for now is that the Revolutionary Army don't really have bonds with pirates exactly because they are impressive and dangerous

So I think that Killer got such a big man because of... Drugs

Yeah no joking

The crew would definitely get T enough for Killer besides I think they would have this in a constant way, what can explain why he takes two years to be that big

But I also think he used some anabolic steroids, or anything like that but in the one piece universe. I don't think they would be really hard to get and they probably are not safe, but they probably work better than the ones we have in the real world.

So if I could say the reason why killer got big is this one, Kid probably got some suspicious drugs and Killer used and there we are. We already know those dudes don't give a shit about risking their life and they are like "worthy to try"

Also I can see Law helping Killer with some surgery, but then Kid finds out that Law is also a captain and he gets mad because they get help from an enemy, and he is not blaming Killer but blaming Law and Law is just "wtf I literally help you?"

But yeah

Thanks for that, I love having someone to talk about this hahahha

#henri talk

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whump-captain · 4 months

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ok now im curious, i wanna know about bianca!

Omg yes thank u for emabling me i love her so much

So my favourite thing about Bianca is that she dies an awful death pretty early on in the story and she's also the only character who gets what she had wanted throughout it.

Basically I made her when i decided that i wanted to make Kintsugi into a proper novel and realized that i needed a stronger character motivation for Ethan ("curiosity about weird island" was enough for whump shorts but for feature-length i wanted something more defined lol). Since a big inspiration for it were survival horror games (Silent Hill, Dead Space, RE7) and all the lads in these always seem to be looking for someone, I decided to go with that as well: when Ethan crashes on the Weird Island™, he's not alone but accompanied by Bianca. When he wakes up, she's gone, and so he has to find her. Who exactly she is to him has gone through a Bunch of rewrites but i feel like i've finally arrived at an iteration that i really like (and one that doesn't just make her an accessory to the male protag's plot).

Essentially, Bianca should be the protagonist of the story. The alien entity hiding on the island and fucking everything up around the narrative? She's encountered it before and she was forever changed by it, dedicating her whole life to finding it. She has a whole plan, a whole conspiracy plot going on before the novel even begins and all of it gets thrown out of whack when Ethan does something fairly shitty to her that puts all of her life's work in danger. So obviously she tries to murder him.

She only doesn't succeed because the boat crashes but like, that's where she wants to be. That's where the alien is, that's where she can find what she's looking for! And she dies as she finds it! And that's a Good thing, somehow! The happenings on the island upend and ruin the lives of everyone involved with them Except for Bianca whose life is put back on track. In a different story, it would have been an inciting incident for her journey but we're in survival horror and so we follow Ethan who has no business being there whatsoever and for whom everything gets worse.

And like!! His whole Thing, his entire driving force as he crawls through horror after horror, is to find Bianca and apologize to her. The Second he wakes up after the crash he realizes he has Fucked Up and that while she very much owes him an explanation for trying to kill him, he owes her an apology just as much. He has put her future in jeopardy and he won't rest until he makes that right! And he never gets to!

And Bianca doesn't care!! She gets exactly what she wants and her story is complete all the while everyone else's stories are going entirely to shit. She thanks Ethan at the end, all her dreams fulfilled. She's decomposing alive as she does that.

The reader barely even finds out what the hell her deal is!! She's actually present for like 3 scenes bc we're mostly with Ethan who sees her once at the beginning when she has a gun to her head and once towards the end when he begs her not to succumb to what to him is a fate worse than death. It would be a fate worse than death to literally Anyone except Bianca bc she has something fuckin Going On!! And maybe half of it is ever explained, all of it too late to save her!

Fuckin. epitome of Good For Her™. Girl had a goal and she Achieved it!! Should she have? Probably not! But she's literally the only character in the story who isn't left among the ruins of their life so like she's having a better time than all of them lot!

#answers #ocposting #this is so long but hhhhdjdkfgd blorbo

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dragon-kazansky · 3 years

Text

Til death do us part | Helmut Zemo

Bodyguard AU! 🕶

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

Here's the part where I stir up trouble because it's me and you know this by now.

Warnings: Mentions of threats, death, and suicide. I'm sorry if that's triggering. It's just mentioned.

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Part 11

You hadn't returned to the Baron again last night, and he hadn't called for you either. You managed to avoid him for the rest of the day.

Today, however, was a new day, and you couldn't keep avoiding him. You put on your stoic face, kept your mind on the job, and made your way up to his office.

At breakfast you had been joined by Natasha and Clint down in the kitchen. It was clear bt the way Clint was looking at you that Natasha had brought him into the loop.

"Why did you tell him?"

"I didn't. He has eyes, too. He can see it just as clearly as anyone," she states.

Clint grins.

You glare at him.

Clint just shrugged and agreed with her. He was the only one to tell you anything alone these lines:

"I think you should open up to him. Sure, you didn't get off on the right foot, but I think he likes you. Really. Maybe give him a chance?"

You chose to ignore that statement and get on with your work. If no one else was going to take their job seriously, then you had to be extra serious for them.

His life was still in danger.

You knock on the door, taking a deep breath as you waited for his reaponce. It cane moments later.

"Enter."

If only his voice didn't send shivers down your spine everytime you heard it.

You enter his office, barely looking at him, and make your way over to where you normally stand. However, you had noticed the way his desk was organised.

Much like yesterday, there was a tea set on a tray. It was a different set to yesterday's. These cups were a pale green and each one a a small pink rose painted on either side of the cup. The teapot had a dozen little roses around the top where the lid sat.

It was a pretty set. Once again, simple, but classy.

He poured two cups again.

"Please, join me," he spoke softly.

You did not want a repeat of yesterday. You remained standing.

Noticing that you hadn't made a move, he gazes up at you with gentle brown eyes. His lips are pulled into a soft smile.

You knew you shouldn't have looked at him, but now it was too late. Those dark eyes are luring you in, and don't forget that smile.

Why did you suddenly want to kiss him?

You swallow thickly, keeping eye contact with him as he continues to look at you with a smile.

"Please."

The way he speaks is so soft. He very clearly wanted you to join him. You hesitate.

"I'm on duty, sir."

"I want you to join me."

You look at the empty seat across from him. The tea would get cold if you didn't join him. Right, yeah, that's why you're going to sit down with him, you didn't want the tea to get cold.

You move over to the chair and take a seat, not looking at the way he was smiling at you now.

A plate of cupcakes sits between you. He takes one.

You look at the sight. Seeing the Baron with his dainty tea set, a cupcake, and a bright expression on his face, he looked so happy and relaxed.

You rather liked this side to the Baron.

You pick up the cup and sip from it. Another delicious tea from his collection. You won't mention how you knew he had a collection of different flavoured tea in a box downstairs in the kitchen.

You smiled at the thought of it though.

It made you feel like you had discovered something about him. A little thing he likes that he doesn't share with anyone else.

Except you, of course.

"How many tea sets do you have?" You ask, now forgetting all about that professional head you had tried to put on earlier. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to humour him.

He smiles widely at you.

"I have six as it stands. I do like to look at others, but I only get the ones that really catch my eye."

You have no idea what was going on with Helmut. The man was beyond pleased. You had initiated a conversation with him. You wanted to talk to him. He couldn't believe it. Perhaps he hadn't offended you as much as he thought after all.

Now, he just had to keep you talking.

"Six? Goodness. Do you use them all?"

"Yes. I switch between them," he grins.

"I'd like to see the others."

"All in due time."

You smile softly.

His heart could literally beat out of his chest right now. He made you smile, and you weren't even trying to hide it.

Feeling a little more willing to be less... stuck up, you reach out and grab one of the cakes.

This pleases him further.

You both eat the cakes and drink the tea. You let yourself smile openly around him.

You were accept he wanted to spend time with you. You wondered if he would indulge you in some information.

"May I ask you something?"

He looks at you with a big gentle eyes. His lips curl in the smallest of smiles.

"Of course."

You put down your nearly empty tea cup and sit up straighter.

"Will you tell me about the group who are after you?"

His smile fades. He hadn't expected that question. To be honest he wanted to keep them as far from mind as possible, but he supposed he did owe you an explanation after everything you had been through.

"They call themselves The Agent Association. John Walker founded it when I retired from the army. He is part of the reason Sokovia has been suffering, when he brought his little gang here to try and recruit me."

"Recruit you? What did he want you for?"

"I have many skills under my belt. I believe he wanted to use me."

"And you turned him down?"

"Yes. I had just left the military. I was ready to return home and settle down. He didn't like that," Helmut's voice became sad. Something struck you and you realised that this went so much deeper than just that.

"What happened? What did he do?"

Helmut looks at you. During the next few moments of silence he was debating on if he should share everything with you. He trusted you, it more came down to if he could bring himself to tell you what happened.

"Baron?"

He wants to tell you. He wants to share what happened to him with you. The reason he had been so cold before you came along.

"There was a woman. She was beautiful. I fell in love rather quickly with her, and she promised to wait for me. He promised I would marry her upon my return and we would live here together. I didn't know she knew Walker. As it turned out, he was in love with her too."

You were suddenly felt with dread.

"Helmut?"

That was it. That was the first time you had used his name. He stared at you, caught off-guard by the way it sounded from your lips.

You hadn't seemed to notice what you had done. Clearly you had been so comfortable with him, you had just let it slip.

He gathers himself.

"Heike. That was her name. She wasn't here when I got home. Three days and no word. I had feared she had chosen him over me, but it was a week later when I heard what had happened."

You felt uncomfortable.

"Heike had passed away. Her family hadn't known I was home, so that's why I hadn't heard anything yet. I was devastated. Two days of being locked away here in mourning with a broken heart, Walker showed up. He broke down my door, he marched up to my room, and then he proceeded to attempt to kill me."

You stare wide eyed, lips parted, mind blank.

"Walker thought I was fine reason she was dead. That she couldn't take choosing and ended her life. I wanted him to kill me. I wanted to be with her in death. He didn't do it. He dropped me and left. I didn't hear from him in years, but one day he shows up with his agents. He wanted to prove to me he had power and influence. Sokovia began to decline and it was because of him."

Helmut had taken notice of how you were leaning forward, listening intensely.

"He's trying to kill you because he thinks Heike killed herself over you?" You ask, whispering softly.

He nods.

"That's awful."

You get up and walk to his side. You place a hand on his shoulder and let it rest there.

"It wasn't your fault."

He turns his head to where he sees your hand. He looks at it. Your touch feels warm, even through his blazer.

"Wasn't it?"

"Of course it wasn't... or are you saying it was?" You ask, softly.

He shakes his head.

"I don't know. What if she had?"

"Do you want my honest opinion?" You ask, looking at him seriously.

"Please."

You kneel down beside him, hand still settled on his shoulder. You meet his eyes with your own.

"If she had ended her own life, I don't think it was over you. By the sounds of it, she was in love with you. She promised to wait."

"Then what do you think happened?"

"Walker. He's trying to kill you, very nearly had twice at this point. Maybe this goes deeper than you think. You're taking it from his word and not your own investigation. Considering all that happened, he isn't a wise form of information."

Helmut places a hand over yours and looks you in the eye. He swallows, letting your words sink in. Your kindness toward him is enough to spur enough confidence in him.

He brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckle gently.

He doesn't miss the shocked expression on your face. Startled, you take your hand back and stand up, but you don't walk away.

Already, he misses your touch.

He's not sorry for what he did, even if your reaction hurt him a little.

"Walker will not bring you harm. As your bodyguard I vow to protect you and see this through. I will not stop until Walker is stopped too."

Helmut looks at you with so much longing. His heart feels full. He smiles.

And I vow to protect you. I will not let him hurt you too. Walker will not hurt the people I love again.

He just can't bring himself to say it out loud.

Zemo no longer cares if it's your duty to protect him. He will not let you get hurt by the hands of Walker again.

When the time comes, the Baron will rest and the Colonol will come out to play.

I promise.

@thesuitkovian @justfangirlthingies @belle82devart @zemosimp420 @anteroom-of-death @silverlambcaptain @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing @lieutenantn @daniielbruhl @awesomesauce-abbie @latenightartist-author @lazygurl05 @rumblelibrary @nonamec0s @shura-gorl @ginger-abreu @caligrl1992 @livvyshmiv @luciadiosa @vverliebt @tatooineisdry @charistory @somethingthatsaysbubbles @apparrio @alex-the-nb @thewrongkhristol @hb8301 @the-chaotic-cow @mssennimatilda @uncomfortablebagel @fictionlandslanddreams

#marvel #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo #au #baron helmut zemo #zemo #bodyguard au

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rattyoakenbitch · 3 years

Text

❝𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠❞ ─ 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐦

after all this time, i start asking why i'm staying

were you ever mine?

are we something that's worth saving?

❥ content ; gn reader, eventual fluff, angst, happy ending

❥ warnings ; cursing, themes of cheating

❥ synopsis ; you're will's s/o. when he comes home from work, you can tell he's off. what you didn't expect was him to kick you out.

❥ a/n ; none!

"Will?"

You call out after hearing the front door to your house open and shut. When you don't get a response, you get up from your laying position on the couch and approach the front door.

There, Will stood. His back was turned to you as he hung up his coat, and although you could not see his face, you could immediately tell he was off. Even the energy around him felt dark and tense.

"Oh, hey, hun.." You said anxiously, trying not to set him off in any way.

Will didn't react to your voice. Instead, he backed away from the clothing rack and walked past you, not even bothering to spare you a look. This wasn't the first time Will acted out like this, especially considering he was exhausted all the time from the work Crawford gave him. But he would at least greet you soon as he walked through the door, not flat out treat you as if you didn't exist.

"Will," you sighed dejectedly, more to yourself than to your boyfriend. You quietly followed him upstairs to the master bedroom, where he began to strip off his work clothes, changing into something more comfortable. Still, he ignored your presence. You had to make another move.

You slowly approached him from behind, placing your hands on his shoulders. You were immediately taken back when he forcefully removed himself from your touch and walked away to another corner of the room.

"Will, I just-"

"What?" he scoffed mockingly, "You just want to help?"

"You're my boyfriend, Will, of course I want to!"

He laughed.

"It certainly doesn't help when you breathe down my neck every fucking minute."

Tears pricked in your eyes, Will's vicious tone scaring you. You searched Will's own eyes, trying to find any trace of remorse or regret. He had none. You didn't even know who you were looking at.

"What are you talking about, Will? When you want space, I give you space. When you want love, I give you love! What more do you want from me?"

"I want you to leave."

And then it was quiet for a moment. You both stood there silently, feet away from each other, eyes burning holes into the others.

"..What?" You stared in disbelief. "Wh- What are you saying right now, Will?"

"I want you to leave. I want you gone, Y/N. I don't need you anymore."

"No," you bit your quivering lips, hot tears spilling down your cheeks. Will averted his stare from your crying form, the floor suddenly becoming more interesting.

"No, you're lying. You're just saying that. You can fool everyone else, but you can't fool me."

"I'm sorry, Y/N." Lies. "It's best if you just leave."

You choked on a sob. "What?! Where is this coming from all of a sudden? We were okay just the other day!"

Will remained silent, still not daring to make eye contact with you.

"Is there someone else?"

"I- No, Y/N. I don't owe you an explanation."

"So this is it, then? You're just gonna kick me out?"

"Please, Y/N. Don't make this harder than it already is."

"This is hard for you?! You're not the one getting kicked out!"

Will sighed, somehow managing to remain calm while you screamed at him.

"I'm sorry." And the conversation ended there.

You began to pack your bags. You also phoned a friend, asking them if you could crash for a bit until you had a stable job and a home. You were not about to sleep on the sofa tonight.

You opened and slammed drawers, taking your anger out on furniture as you took your belongings with you. You also did it to spite Will, who attempted to get some sleep. But he did not complain. He continued to act as if you didn't exist.

It made you wonder. Where did it all go wrong? How long has he thought about leaving you? Was there another person?

Will wouldn't answer your questions. At this point, you didn't wanna know.

You were able to finish packing up within an hour. Will was still wide awake during that time, listening closely to the angry banging of furniture, quiet sniffles and shaky inhales as you tried the best you could to keep your composure.

You loaded all your bags into your car, getting ready to head to your friend's place. You went back inside to get a couple more things and look around the house a final time. You stopped by the front door as you were about to leave, your eyes landing on a picture on the windowsill of you and Will. Your already tired, red eyes welled with tears again. You opened up the frame, sliding the picture out and folding it into your pocket. Not like Will would want it in his house anyway.

And so you left.

You didn't say your goodbyes. You just left.

A week had gone by. Will carried on with his job as usual, attended his therapy sessions, but he never once mentioned you. Not a lot of people knew about you and Will's relationship, or what was once a relationship. Since his coworkers already knew so much, or what Will deemed to be enough information about him, he wanted to keep your relationship secret. Not that you minded.

The only person who knew of your relationship was Alana Bloom and Jack Crawford, but even when it ended, he didn't tell them anything. He didn't tell them how guilty he felt the night he kicked you out. He didn't tell them he still had nightmares about you being harmed. He didn't tell them how he was the one harming you in his nightmares. He didn't tell them how empty he felt when you blocked his number and social medias (ok sorry but like little headcanon here?? will has an instagram and it's just pictures of him fishing / or of his dogs fnsmdnskdjsk).

He never told them how he tried not to stay in his house as often, because it reminded him of you.

He was definitely acting strange at work. It was easy to tell. Even Bev pulled him aside to inquire about his health. But he continued to keep his mouth shut, until he couldn't.

Will rushed to the front door when he heard little taps on the metal screen. Secretly, he hoped it would be you. But when he opened it, there stood Alana Bloom. Will always thought Alana was beautiful. But how could anyone disagree?

Her long, dark waves that framed her perfect, slim face were never unchecked and unkempt. Makeup or none, preppy work uniforms or pajamas, she always seemed to look her best.

You even found yourself feeling small and insecure when Will invited her over for you to meet. But he assured you that she could never even compare to you. You believed it.

Alana's thin lips curled up into a soft smile. "Will. Can I come in?"

"Y-Yeah, sure." He let her in and she walked through the front door for the first time in forever.

"Jeez," she chuckled. "How long as it been?"

"Maybe too long," Will simply replied.

Alana walked around the house, scanning every detail while Will patiently trailed behind her. The dogs were playing outside, so it was just the two of them.

"Why did you decide to come over today?"

"I've been worried about you." She turned around to face Will, who stopped a few feet in front of her. "But now that I'm here in your house, I can see why you've been acting off."

"What's your diagnosis, Doctor?" Will joked, an attempt at lightening the tense air.

"Y/N. They left, haven't they?"

There it is.

Technically, Alana wasn't wrong. You did leave, but Will never clarified in what circumstance.

Will looked at the ground.

"Yeah.. Took all the photos too."

"Hey," Alana began, her finger resting under Will's chin, prompting him to look up at her. "You don't have to hide from me."

A week had gone by. A long, lonely, miserable week. You crashed at your friend's for two nights before your parents invited you to live with them while you worked on getting back on your feet. They didn't live too far, so you thanked your friend for their hospitality and moved in with your parents.

As you finished unpacking your stuff, you realized you were missing some things. You cursed at the realization you would probably have to pick up some stuff from Will's.

You still had the key, so you would have no problem getting in, unless he had the lock changed of course. You were only worried about running into him.

What the hell?

You got dressed. You didn't wear anything fancy, but in case you ran into Will, you felt obligated to look presentable and show him that you could still make it without him. You decided on doing a bit of makeup. Again, nothing fancy. Just enough to conceal the dark circles under your eyes and make your features pop.

And then you headed on the dreadful drive to Will's place.

When you got there, you were too nervous and too focused on making the trip quick to even notice Alana's car in his driveway.

However, what did catch your attention, were the many dogs Will owned. They ran up to you as soon as they recognized you. They panted as they jumped and wagged their tails, expressing their happiness the most they could. You tried your best to pet them all, your mouth lifting up into a smile. You didn't realize it but you really missed the dogs.

You dug around for the key in your pocket and pulled it out, quietly unlocking the front door and letting yourself in.

"You don't have the hide from me.."

Your eyebrows furrowed together at the sound of a female voice.

When you walked into the living room, you were horrified to see Will with another woman. Alana.

Their lips were locked, engaging in a passionate kiss, not even noticing your presence. You felt sick as you put the pieces together.

"Now I know why you kicked me out," you whispered, half to yourself and half to Will, who almost about pushed Alana off him at the sound of your voice.

Both their cheeks heated up in embarrassment when their eyes fell on you.

"Y/N! I'm so sorry, I thought-"

"Look, I only came to pick up some stuff. Then I'll be out of your way." You didn't once look away from Will, deciding to totally disregard Alana's presence and apologetic mutters.

With that, you rushed out of the living room and into your bedroom, searching under the bed and in the closet for your missing items.

You heard faint talking from the living room but tuned out most of it, deciding it wasn't worth your time or even your business in the first place. Then you heard the front door shut and a car start from outside.

Before you could process what might've happened, you heard Will's footsteps stop outside the bedroom.

"Y/N, we should talk."

"No, we shouldn't."

"You blocked my number."

"What good would it do if I kept it?"

"Please, hear me out."

Disgruntled, you turned to face Will, sending a cold glare his way.

"Look, unless you found a way to make a time machine and give me back the time I wasted on you, I don't want to speak with you."

"Why won't you just listen to me?!" he snapped.

You scoffed, "Well surprise, douchebag, I have feelings and you hurt them!"

"Well, I'm sorry, alright?" he calmed down now.

"Are you? Really?" You shook your head. "A sorry won't fix this, Will. Not after what you did. Gods- I can't even look at you right now."

You laughed. "You know what fucking sucks? After all you did, after the cheating and the lies, I'm still in love with you."

Will teared up. "I was never with Alana, Y/N. It's always been you."

"Then, why, Will? Why did you throw me out so coldly like that?"

"I began to have dreams, Y/N. Nightmares," Will admitted, his voice beginning to break. "Nightmares about people hurting you. Criminals. It was too real. As much as I loved- As much as I love you, I never wanted you to choose me. I don't want people using you as a weapon against me. To hurt me."

You slowly walked towards Will, stopping a foot away from him. You looked up into his glossy bambi eyes as he spoke.

"It was when the nightmares got worse, when I was the one hurting you, that I realized you weren't safe with me."

You cried. "Oh, Will. I wish you had told me."

"I couldn't. I didn't want you to remember me that way."

You laughed. "Well, I ended up remembering you as the asshole who kicked me out, instead."

Will managed to give you a smile through his tears.

He brought his hand to your shoulder, and gently lead it up your neck to the side of your face, cupping it lightly and brushing his thumb across your cheek.

"I would never hurt you, Y/N."

"I know. I know, Will. You aren't a monster for having nightmares you can't control." You brought your own hand up and placed it against Will's, leaning into his warm touch. "I'm still here. I'm alive. In your hands. And I feel safe with you."

Almost hesitantly, Will leaned in, connecting his lips to yours. His body felt tense, but when you kissed him back, you felt his worries disappear into the air.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

"Stay with me tonight?"

#will graham x reader #will graham fluff #will graham angst #will graham #hannibal nbc #hannibal tv show #hannibal gifs #will graham gifs #will graham oneshot #will graham imagines #rattyoakenbitch #alana bloom #angsty #hannibal fandom #hannibal fanfiction #beach bunny #lyric prompts

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

❛ MAYBE I'M DRUNK TOO ❜

with Obispo ‘Bishop’ Losa.

Request: none. This is the second part of this draft: I swear I'm drunk.

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 1k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author

Masterlist.

Today it's not your day. The headache isn't gone, drilling and squeezing your brain without mercy. Your eyes are on the front wall of the desk, moving a pencil between your fingers and thinking about the ridiculous thing you made a few hours ago. Also, having to work at Romero and brothers office the whole shift doesn't help. You just want to go home, sleep and die because of the shame, but two fingers clicking close to your face make you raise your assorted gaze at the man leaning over your desk. Your heart jumps, so you do on your chair, when you find Bishop loudly laughing. His laugh is like that song you put on repeat once and again whenever you feel sad, because it makes you feel better.

“Earth calling to (Y/N)”. He says, now putting his other palm over the table.

“Yo… so—sorry, Prez”. You mumble with your cheeks burning, trying to recover your breath. “How can I help you?”

“Not letting me stab you, querida. Unless you were talking about another kind of sta—”.

“No. Please, don't”. You almost sob covering your face with both hands, before hiding yourself under the desk, as if he couldn't see you.

Bishop's laughter floods the scrapping office, almost drowning and coughing. For you, it's not funny. You want a black hole to swallow you right now.

“C'mon, querida, get out of there”.

“No”. You just reply pouting, before the man surrounds the furniture to squat in front of you with an arm supported on. “Let me die, please”.

“Not today, chamaca”. He smirks, grabbing your body to pull you out, unable to look at him. “You owe me an explanation”.

“I was dru—”.

“We both know you weren't”. He replies, narrowing his eyes, leading you backwards until your lower back finds the desk, settling himself between your legs.

“Wh—What are you… doing?” Gulping and shaking a little, the nerves consume your body.

“Nothing. Maybe I'm drunk too”.

“No… No, yo—you're not”.

“You either”. He says, leaning forward and leaving a hand behind you. “I need it for tomorrow”.

The man puts an order sheet on your chest, with a huge and petty smile on his lips. Taking it to read it. Two tires. You can recognize the measurement and the chassis number, knowing that they're for his bike. Of course, he could do it by himself, but for a moment you think that he's just trying to find some excuse to make you feel nervous after your confession.

“Ok—Okay, Prez. I will… have them… for tomorrow”. You try to say, keeping the calm as much as you can.

“Good. I have to ride tomorrow night, and Creeper must have my bike ready for then”.

Bishop maintains your look for some long, long seconds, making you shake a little more nervous before smirking and pulling his body away from yours. And without any words, he just walks towards the exit, breathing again and standing up from the desk having another look of the order.

“By the way”. He pronounces then, calling your attention to turn slightly, watching how he points his head with a forefinger for a second.

You don't have time to respond, when he's already back to his last position between your legs. With a hand on your lower back and the other on your nape, the mexican pushes you into him until he collides his lips with yours. Your heart jumps inside your chest, taking you a moment to react. Your trembling hands raised up to both sides of his neck, making it real. You have been dreaming of that for too many years, and now it's really happening. His lips are so sweet, because of the amount of sugar he pours in his coffee, and you already love them. Moving so slow, and twisting your neck to mold yours with his, that you couldn't imagine he would like to take all the time in the world to kiss you.

Your noses almost touch the other when he breaks it just for a second to look at you barely breathing, before going back to them. This time, you leave him some space among your lips to tuck into his tongue to find yours, stealing you the little air left in your lungs. Bishop makes you sit on the desk, surrounding his waist with both legs, needed for feeling him closer. You're in a fucking bubble ascending to heaven when his hands travel your thighs, squeezing it with a growl dying in his throat.

“OH, C'MON, MAN!”

And your father appears with a needle to make it explode, falling loudly back to the real world.

“She could be your fucking daughter, brother”.

“Yeah, but it's yours, not mine”. He laughs loud, while you sink your face on his neck, embarrassed like never. “How many years have your girlfriend, ah? She could be your fucking granddaughter”.

“Wait… WHAT?” You scream between laughs, totally freaking out and turning over the desk. “DO YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND, DAD? AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME ANYTHING ABOUT IT?”

“No, I do— It doesn't matter! Just use a fucking condom”.

That's enough to make Taza run away from the office, before you start to ask uncomfortable questions, focusing again on Bishop.

“My tires, babygirl”. He just says, giving you short and gentle kisses. “I don't want to have an accident”.

“What would the world be without El Presidente?” You chuckle nodding, feeling a little better.

“I don't know, ask yourself”. He shrugs before palming your ass to put you down from the table. “I would be fucked, If I lose you, now that I have you”.

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#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #bishop losa #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa x reader #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years

Text

The Lost Boys Find Out Their Fem!S/O is Pregnant [4/4]

SUBJECT WARNING: PHYSICAL AGRESSION, SEXUAL THEMES AND A WHOLE LOT OF SWEARING. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!

Alrighty then, my lovely fang babes! Here we are, we have the last of the first edition of the pregnancy saga! Worry not, dearest readers, for there is hope! I plan on doing a separate series about going through the pregnancy, and maybe even going through the childbirth with how the boys are as new dads. Let me know in the comments if you'd like to see more, and by tomorrow night we'll have a whole new set to love!

It was such a blast writing Paul's, I'm not gonna lie I got lost in the magic! We have a cute little character cameo for all you 80s movie nerds, lemme know if you can figure out what it is! So, without any more delays; here he is. The gorgeous, the goofy, the one, the only:

PAUL

Today had been an unexpected challenge. You barely got through your shift at the record store, every time you were in light it made you dizzy. Hangovers had nothing on this! Did you drink too much the night before? No, now that you thought about it any attempts to drink had you hugging a toilet. Not to mention your period was late as hell! Well, not the cramps, go figure. Just no blood. None at all.

You never let on to your beau, Paul, though. The party boy vampire would become overly worried if you told him you were sick, and you weren't about to spoil a good time with a bit of nausea. So here you were, stumbling about the day into the late afternoon absolutely miserable. Your manager Iona offered you some crackers and ginger ale during your lunch break. No dice, within an hour you were running to the bathroom again.

"Gosh hon, I dunno what ta tell ya. Maybe you ate something nasty, I told you that boardwalk food was fishy," Iona sighed, poking at her own lunch with a fork. Currently your coworker Andie was watching the front until you were feeling better.

"Kill me now, Iona," you groaned, chin resting on the table with your arms laid over your head. Then there was a smell. The greatest, most flavorful, mouthwatering scent you've ever experienced. Like a honey baked ham and a New York sirloin had a glorious new baby drizzled in ecstasy. Glancing over, your stomach growled at whatever it could be. If this were a cartoon you'd be flying to what it was.

Oddly enough, it was coming from Iona. Well, whatever black stuff was in her little plastic tupperware dish. Who cares what it was, it smelled incredible.

"Hey uh..," you asked, leaning over towards the sticky, mysterious delicacy calling your name. "You wouldn't mind if I had a bite, would ya?"

"You sure, hon? This isn't exactly your average dish, it's kinda weird," she tried to explain. God you couldn't take your eyes off it! Finally, your merciful manager pushed it your way, and you couldn't resist any longer.

"I don't even care, this is the first thing in the past two days that hasn't made me nauseous," you muffled between cosmic bites.

Oh shit, this was heaven! It had to be some sort of meat, it reminded her of a nice spicy kielbasa, a slow roasted brisket, every second it changed to some new world of food you had never tried. What it was didn't matter by this point.

"Wooow. I've never met someone who liked black pudding that much."

Pudding? "I thought it was meat or something? It doesn't taste anything like pudding," you insisted, polishing off the very last specs of it. "Got any more?"

"No, no, not like chocolate pudding or stuff like that, kiddo. black pudding. It's this dish from the UK my new boyfriend made me. It's congealed pig's and cow blood mixed with spices."

You made a face. Blood? Like, blood blood? The cow equivalent of what Paul drank on a daily basis? Yet this was the first time you didn't puke, in fact, you kinda wanted more. Even knowing what is was made of.. for some reason you craved more. Meanwhile Iona continued to talk on and on, until one phrase caught your ears. "Yea, ya know my mom was so into for the longest time. Said she craved it her whole pregnancy, I never got a taste for it honestly."

A single thought popped into your head. A dangerous, foreboding thought that your intuition said was very much a possibility. In a flash you jumped up, nearly slamming your hands on the table. "I gotta go. Oh shit, I gotta go! I'll be right back, I swear, I'm so sorry, I swear to god I'll be right back," you shouted as you bolted out of the store.

"Wait what-?!"

You'd make it up to her once you got back. You had to know! You had to be sure..! Please just let it be paranoia! Please let it be anything, anything at all besides what you thought it was!

Once you reached the nearest CVS you made a B-line to the women's health section. Your hair clung to your face, your lungs stung like crazy but all you could think about was getting answers. And cue the disapproving glare of some old bat picking out a box of pads. Alright being 17 in front of the pregnancy tests looked bad. You weren't just a high schooler, you looked it too. "What're you looking at, " you snarl. Immediately she clutched her pearls, startled by this abrasive youngin' in no mood for dirty looks. God why'd there have to be so many options? Pink boxes, purple ones, bright yellow insisting it worked the fastest. The heavy fluorescent lights were no help at all, it made your head spin. You had no time for this crap. In a sweeping motion you grabbed three different brands and threw them into your basket, all you needed was….where was your wallet? Shit... Glancing around you checked for any nearby cameras or staff. Karma be damned, it was an emergency! Five finger discount it was.

Once again you made a mad dash back to the record store as the sun finally set. All three boxes were crumpled in your hand, your boots running so fast it you hit a rock that'd be it.

But getting back to the record store was your best bet. You weren't about to pee in some dirty, old, nasty pharmacy bathroo- oh fuck. There was something that finally slowed your steps, nearly making you trip in the process. Four bikes parked right outside. Three of which were occupied by by Dwayne, David and Marko all talking amongst themselves.

Shiiiit, shit, shit! All you could do was swear repeatedly. Before they could spot you, you practically dove into the alleyway behind the store, rapidly disabling the alarm. If that went off it'd be a dead giveaway. Quickly you looked left and right before you slammed the door shut behind you still trying to catch air.

But there, right past the door to the employees lounge, over by the counter you could see a mass of blonde hair chatting away with Iona about Led Zeppelin's best album to date. Paul, gorgeous as every, laughing. It made your heart flutter, but then it sank. What if it was a-... He was never the type to run away from a challenge. But then again, a kid wasn't a challenge, it was a massive ordeal. It would take a huge chunk of his life- well, afterlife! Boozing and cruising would be switched out with drowsy days and busy nights. You weren't sure if you wanted him to know if you were, it would take all that from him. Unfortunately, he must've smelled you or sonething, because immediately he turned around like a puppy being called.

"Babe," he cheered with delight, rushing over to hug you. Rather squeeze you by your hips and lift you four feet off the ground. Quickly you stuffed the skinny boxes into your back pocket, now smushed up against his chest. "Where were you? Ion's said you just bolted mid-shift, we were worried sick! Well, I mean, I was more worried though, cuz I can't stand you bein' gone, kitten."

"Well, yeah uh, I forgot something I had to get at the store, and I forgot what time I got off," you hesitated, still antsy to escape to the bathroom. Truthfully you didn't actually want to, you had to! If you could, you'd just kiss him and ride off into the night to raise some hell like you always did. But this was too big to ignore.

Paul raised a brow. You weren't known for being this jumpy. You wouldn't look him in the eyes, they just kept darting towards the bathroom. Boy, you really did look sick, though. Pale, almost greenish with dark circles under your eyes. You even felt colder than usual. "Am I uh, interrupting something, babe?"

You managed to work out if his arms, giggling nervously. "Actually I-I had some of Iona's lunch earlier, and I just, gotta- be right back!"

With that, you bolted into the bathroom and slammed the door behind you. Again, weird. Paul just shrugged, maybe you had some bad Mexican.

Iona wasn't convinced. Little miss jumpy-pants skipping out on her, you owed her an explanation. While Paul perused the albums she sunk over to the bathroom, rapidly tapping on the door. "Y/N! Psst! You good in there, hon?"

You were most certainly NOT good! Your hand shook, the third test finally finished. Not like it mattered! They all said the same thing. Every fucking one of them.

Positive. Positive. Positive.

No, no, no!

"Shit," you hissed. "Shit! Oh shit, oh fuck! Fuck-fuckity shit fuck fuck! Dammit." That's all you could do! You swore over, and over, and over, rapidly kicking the wall in front of you. Stupid pink plus! Why? Why did it have to be a plus?? Immediately you threw it in the trash and scooped up the other two. Maybe they were all flukes? Maybe only a doctor could tell you! You had to get home. Like now. Right now, you just had to rush home, make an appointment at the doctors, maybe hide in shame for a few days just until you could figure out what the hell to do with all this! Once again you wedged the tests in your back pocket and nearly tripped, cracking open the door to face your boss. "Iona, I gotta get home."

"Seriously, Y/N?? Why? What is with you?"

"Please, I swear I will make it up to you, I'll take a double shift, I'll wash your damn car-"

"Oh no, nuh-uh. Not until you tell me why you're being such a spaz," she practically shouted in a hissing whisper, absolutely exasperated. You teens and your drama, when she always said she wanted to fell young again this is NOT what she meant!

"Listen i-... iyay amyay egnantpray," you whispered. Pig latin. It was a little code you two usually reserved for secrets. Well, that and talking smack about snotty customers. But wow was this a big ol' secret.

Iona covered her mouth. Oh, you little idiot! You poor little idiot. Looking over at the unsuspecting boyfriend she sighed, looking you in the eyes. She wanted to just tell you to come clean to your man. The boy hung around you constantly, you two were the ultimate it-couple, there wasn't even sparks it was like watching supernovas. Something this big.. it shouldn't be left in the dark!

But that pitiful expression on your face just begged her to keep quiet, and frankly it wasn't her place to tell you what to do- well, at least in this regard. "Alright, alright. This saturday you're taking my night time shift, there's a big concert I wanna go to. And you gotta wax my car, it's gettin' nasty. And you better write the best damn apology note in the history of apology notes, sweetie. This is huge, you better come clean to him eventually, or I'll kick your little butt you hear me?"

"Yes. Absolutely, fine, deal. Just please, please keep him busy, I'm not ready to tell him," you whined, clutching the door. Frankly it sounded like a piss poor plan, but it couldn't be helped, not right now at least. You didn't have the strength to confront the situation head on, you were barely keeping it together. You wanted to cry all over, jump into his arms and come clean now, but this was neither the time or place.

As soon as Iona went to go over to Paul you stuffed the tests into your purse and bolted out the back door, only this time stealth was not on your side. Right at the mouth of the alleyway, just as you were about to be home free- you ran smack dab into a particularly lithe blonde that felt like a brick wall. You went flying onto the ground, your purse crashing onto concrete with a hundred pieces of your privacy going every direction. In a panic you began to rapidly stuff it all back, barely able to hide the first two tests as you threw some half baked apology Marko's way. Honestly he deserved a better one than that, but you were too frazzled to be fair at the moment.

"Oh shit, Y/N," Marko exclaimed, immediately kneeling down to help you gather the scattered remains of your purse. "Sorry, I didn't even see you, I was coming back for a smoke. Big Ed is such a douche, can you believe theres no smoking on the-..." His words trailed off, and you shortly saw why. Grasped between his pointer finger and thumb was the little pink strip, and a look of complete disbelief. All you could do was snatch it from him, a heavy moment of silence magically muffling the wild noise and shouts of the busy boardwalk.

"Do...D-Don't worry about it. Look, I gotta get home, I'll see you arou-," you started, trying to jump up, maybe catch him off guard and make a run for it. Not this time.

You hadn't even noticed he grabbed your wrist, it was such a blur. He stayed silent, standing up and looking right into your eyes with hidden malcontent. You swore if you answered wrong this mischievous cat would tear your throat out. After all, you were his best friend's girl. If you did anything, ANYTHING, to hurt him... Well, let's just say a pregnancy would be the least of your worries. "Why are you running, Y/N? What the hell is this thing," he asked quietly, eyes flickering between red and blue. "Did you…?"

"Oh don't fuckin' even," You snapped, smacking his arm, yanking your hand out of his grasp. "Of course not! You butt! God, are you serious? What do you take me for- No! I- fuck I just- no!" You kick the tin trash can beside you, watching a plethora of trash fly into the air. "I am freaking out! Of course it's Paul's. Oh fucking god, it's Paul's and I don't know what to do!"

Marko's expression softened, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I didn't mean to make it sound like that, Y/N. Paul's my friend, I just had to be sure you weren't sneaking around, you know?"

You sighed, pushing back your mess of a hair with misty eyes. This was perfect, a real big screw up from start to finish. All you could do was look over at Marko with pleading eyes. "You can't tell him yet. Please, just please please PLEASE, Marko, don't tell Paul yet!"

"Tell me what, babe?"

Shit. Shit on a stick. You looked behind to see Paul halfway out the back door with a look of concern, one that he rarely carried. You and your dumb mouth, go figure.

The blonde pushed through and let the door close behind him, looking over at his best bud standing alone with his girlfriend who was begging him to keep something secret, from him no less.

"Marko?"

"Nah, nah, don't look at me man, this is all on you guys," he sighed, hands up in a shielding motion. "Good luck buddy. Gotta go, Y/N." with that the young vampire excused himself from this melting pot of drama, hands stuffed in his pockets.

You just stood there, keeping the little strip tightly grasped behind your back. Paul was silent, but glancing at his hands you saw they were balled so tight his knuckles were white. "P-paul…," you hesitated, biting down on your bottom lip. "I should really… get home.."

Paul only raised a brow, glancing at your arms still tucked behind you. This wasn't like you to hide from him, and that alone frightened him. Nothing had ever frightened him before. And he didn't like the taste of it one bit. "What's behind your back, babe?"

"What?"

Again his spoke, this time his voice lowered into a low growl. "What... do you have... behind your back, babe?" The way he said it was so firm, it made you shake a little. You didn't like stern Paul. They way he hissed the word "babe", practically spoken through clenched teeth

Your throat ached, eyes darting across the ground struggling to think up a good excuse. Anything. A book, your purse, a surprise for him! Anything!

"N-nothing." Apparently, you failed to find any excuses. Great.

Paul's knuckles began to crack, jumping forward to try and snatch it from behind you. When you dodged him, he grew even more furious. You both began to struggle, pushing him away, insisting he just stop and let you leave. But every attempt to reject him only upset him further. Why were you hiding things from him?! How could you just ditch him at the record store when he was worried sick about you??

The struggle built up until finally he had enough. His eyes turned white with rings of fire, brow looming heavily over his eyes and fangs jutting out where his incisors once were. In a flash he grabbed you by you wrists, pinning you so hard to the wall it shook. You still tried to struggle. Thrash, kick, squirm! Steel wished it could be so strong, your muscles ached. This probably wasn't even his full strength, but it dwarfed you in comparison. This terrifying side of Paul you had certainly seen before, but never had you been on the receiving end. It was in all sense of the word, predatorial. He'd never try to kill you, but you still felt that horror build up inside. Rapid, sharp breaths made your chest heave, too afraid to look up at those red eyes still fixated on whatever you kept hidden from him. He continued to pry your stubborn fingers open, ignoring your shaking whimpers. He squoze your wrist, the tendons aching and contracting until your fingertips began to lift up. Any resistance was pretty much useless at this point, but dammit you still tried everything to worm out of his grip. But he had finally had it, you weren't gonna be keeping secrets from him. Now your last finger was pushed off, and he could see what was so damn important that you physically fought him to keep it secret. It was almost slow motion the way the strip spun to the ground, clattering down and landing beside his mud caked boots. He froze, slowly looking down at it. That's it? That's all you-...

You could barely read his face, so many different emotions flashing across it all at once. Occasionally he'd look back up at you, then back down at it. To the point you almost got annoyed that you were still being stuck to a wall while the reality set in. After all, it didn't take a rocket scientist to know what that was, just put you down already!

Paul looked at you still pinned beneath him, horrified at how he lost his temper and immediately released you. Still rubbing away the pain across your wrists, you watched him pick it up. A wave of guilt swarmed your body, you didn't know whether to hug him or punt him in the chest.

Hell, a massive tidal wave of guilt overflowed him too. It'd been such a long time since he got that angry.. but worst of all he'd never been like that with you. Never grabbed you so forcefully and ignored your pleas, it was a dark side of him he never wanted to display in front of you. Glancing at the little pink plus at the end of the stick, his mind swirled with a plethora of questions. But slowly he stood up, looking down at you still really trying to process everything that had happened in the past few minutes. "I don't… I don't understand.."

"You- You are such an ass," you shouted out of nowhere, enough that it made him jump. There you were. That's the fiery girl he knew, not the one he exactly wanted to be on the opposing side of at the moment, though.

Paul wasn't surprised you were pissed, but he definitely didn't expect you to start punching his arm. Again. Then again, and again you just kept hiting his arms, his chest, pushing and crying, you were so mad you wanted to chuck him in the ocean! It didn't really hurt that much, but he felt awful he drove you to that point.

Tears blurred your vision as you lashed out on him. All you could do was yell names between sobs, even whack him with your purse. "Paul, you absolute jerk! Butt! Jackass! You smarmy, half wit, blood-sucking tool! You said you were packing blanks, you absolute liar! I was gonna tell yo-! I mean, I know I shouldn't have run-! But you just couldn't wait- and then Marko- and you! You ! Jerk ! Butthead !"

"Hey, ow! Ow! Ow, dammit! I know, I know I went to far-ow not the hair dammit," he demanded, grabbing your arms before you could lay another mighty blow. "Babe! Babe, stop! I thought I was! I swear I didn't know- I-..I never thought that I could get you...." His hands slowly released your shoulders, moving to your hips. "I'm so sorry, baby. I swear, I didn't know.. I'm so sorry."

The way his voice softened only made you want to cry more. This whole day was a mess. You didn't mean to try and run.. You never should've tried to in the first place. God, you were so tired. All this running around, all this secrecy, the fighting, it was exhausting. Paul was the last person you wanted to fight. Sure you had spats and a few heated arguments. Every couple did, even vampires. But this, it was just so.m draining. With a firm thud you plopped your forehead on his sternum, your fingers tightly clinging to the upper sleeves of his jacket. "Wh-what am I supposed to do-… what are we supposed to do now..?"

Paul pondered his options with a solemn face, but there was only one that made him happy. Only one that sat right in his heart. What else could he possibly do, there was only ever going to be one answer even if you told him right away. Most of all, he couldn't stand the sorrow in your eyes. A frown never suited such a beautiful face. He never expected there to be anything to come from your heavy sexcapades, it never seemed like there was any risks in it. He'd never seen a vampire munchkin, least of all he'd never even heard of a vamp conceiving with a human. All he knew now is you, crying in his arms, terrified of what you were carrying. What it could mean. In that moment, he steeled his resolve and came to a final decision.

Silently he tilted your chin up, using his thumb to brush away all those tears staining your cheeks. Those blue eyes, you could get lost in them. Swallowed up by the sea. It wasn't hard to read his mind when he held onto your hip with one hand, while the other that pushed away salty droplets now cupped your cheek. Within moments you crashed your mouth into his, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

Warm. A surge of heat filled your body. It was the first time you felt truly alive all day. You could feel your chest heave against his, you didn't want any space between the two of you and only pressed tighter until there wasn't anything left. Each kiss gave momentary breath before you dove in for more. Neither of you could stop. You didn't want to pull away, not even for a split second. The way he smelled, the way he tasted, the way he touched you, the way he felt beneath your fingers; it made your head spin. His hands began to wander, you clutched at anything you could get a hold of. Your body burned, so sweet and long. In those moments the world stopped, it just melted away in streams of light. No one was there but you two.

It was over too soon, both of you rapidly panting for breath still intertwined. Oh, how you could stare into his eyes forever.

That frown was long gone, replaced by a tender smile. The one he had come to cherish. Paul chuckled softly, breathlessly nuzzling against your collar bone. Slowly he leaned in close to your ear, his disheveled blonde hair brushing up against your cheeks. Lips trailed up flesh, reavhing just beneath your ear. And then you heard those three forbidden words. Such sweet, tender words, you hadn't expected him to say. Although he whispered them so softly they might have gotten lost in the wind, to you they were as clear as the moon on a cloudless night.

"Y/N.... I love you."

It made your heart throb, you thought you might even faint. A lifetime of struggles led up to this beautiful moment. You never expected it to be a half-undressed heavy make out session with your vampire lover, the father of your unborn spawn, in the back alley of a record store on the Santa Carla Boardwalk. But here you were, nestled between him and an old brick wall. Paul loved you, he had said it, he finally said those words that could destroy any doubt you had. And more than anything in the whole wide world, you knew once and for all, you loved Paul.

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maythedreadwolfbreakyou · 4 years

Text

To Catch Me When I Fall

A Story of Friendship

Beyond the balcony, the warm orange glow of the setting sun fell beyond the seam of the world, slowly casting the valley and the surrounding mountains into darkness. They would be lighting the braziers on the ramparts soon.

The cold mountain breeze rushed through the open balcony door and blew straight through Ghilina's casual evening finery, licking at the skin beneath with its wintry chill.

She dared to look out the tall, ornate windows to see the sky tinged the color of Spindleweed, and the matte black that slowly swept across the sky like a rising tide, bringing with it the beauty of the stars.

The moon had a milky glow in the inky black sky, amidst an array of diamond dust stars. The cool wind tugged at the free locks of her black hair, tickling her neck. Ghilina only smiled as she took comfort from the gentle, melodic timbre of the voice behind her. She snuggled her back deeper into his warm, broad chest as his outstretched arm pointed out ancient constellations written in those stars.

Ghilina set her jaw as she shook the memory from her mind, viciously blinking back the sting of tears that they often brought. Instead she forced her mind away, placing an elbow on the desk as the width of her forehead rested between her thumb and forefinger.

The shudder from the ever cooling breeze made her involuntarily shudder, but she did not tear her focus from the documents she pored over by candlelight. Documents that had gone neglected in the days leading up to Corypheus, and she was determined to keep her mind busy.

A quick set of knocks echoing from her chamber door startled her as she looked up, the door swinging open before she could answer.

Walking inside was the dashing dark-haired, bronze-skinned Dorian whose curled mustache bowed with his frown.

"Honestly," he complained, crossing the room in a long-legged stride to the open balcony, "I haven't the foggiest how you could concentrate on anything with this cold."

He pulled the balcony doors shut with a clatter as Ghilina watched with an amused grin, leaning back in her seat, arms folded.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, mister Pavus?" Ghilina asked.

"You know I am to return to Tevinter, yes?" Dorian began, "It has been many months since we defeated Corypheus, and I cannot postpone my journey much longer."

"When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow," he answered sadly, "I've given my goodbyes to the others. It will be strange to be without them. For my last night in Skyhold, I wanted to spend it with you."

Ghilina gaped with astonishment, "with me? What did you have in mind?"

Dorian reached for her hand and pulled her from her chair, "A few ideas, just know I won't take no for an answer. Come with me."

Ghilina couldn't help but smile as he led her from her chamber and down the stone steps.

The blanket draped around her shoulders was thick and warm in the cold night, it failed to reach her toes which would feel the chill before too long.

Ghilina heard the murmurs behind her and turned to look. Dorian was accepting two large steaming mugs from one of the kitchen girls whose head peaked up from the hole leading into the Mage tower. Ghilina admired the girl's courage, even now few were willing to brave the inside of the tower, much less climb the ladder to the roof.

The girl gave Dorian a final toothy smile before the loud clack of boots against wooden ladder rungs signaled her descent.

The mug Dorian offered was filled with a dark and hot liquid. Ghilina accepted the mug gingerly and wrapped her hands around its metallic surface, letting the warmth flow through her fingers and banish the wintry chill.

"I trust you wouldn't think I had it poisoned," Dorian teased lightly, "I'm told it's good for a wounded heart."

Ghilina could not hide the surprise from her face, to which Dorian greeted with a delighted laugh.

"You didn't really think you were hiding it, did you?"

Ghilina looked down, "I had hoped I was."

She took a drink from her mug to hide her embarrassment, and what greeted her was a dark, hot liquid that was rich and creamy as it coated her tongue thickly. It smoothly flowed down her throat.

"Chocolate?" She asked, staring into her mug.

"Hot Cocoa," Dorian corrected, "or so I am told. It was among the many gifts sent to the Inquisition for their help against the Red Templars. Quite popular in the more cold and rural parts of Orlais, I hear."

She watched him from beneath the lip of her cup as he sat across the table, a knowing smile on his face. He lifted his gaze for only a moment to meet hers. But a moment was all it took for her heart to flutter like the butterflies in her stomach.

Her vision blurred as her eyes glimmered with tears. She looked skyward before they could fall, quickly blinking them away.

Dorian took her cup from her hands then and placed it on the wall's ledge with his own, "There will be none of that."

Before Ghilina could protest, Dorian had gently pulled her to his chest and held her affectionately. She could not hide the surprise from her voice, "Dorian, what-"

"If it is uncomfortable, I will stop." He interrupted, "I have seen how strong you have tried to be, you are the Inquisitor and no one should see you vulnerable. We both know I am not no one. I am not Cole so I have no way to offer help as he could, but I would still offer help as a friend. You can cry here, get angry, fume, with just us and no one else."

Those words were all it took for the walls Ghilina had built to hold her up and make her strong, to crumble and collapse at his feet. Moment by moment, they fell like the tears from her chin.

He continued softly, "What is tearing you apart shouldn't remain apart of you, you taught me that. Let it out, dear girl."

She sobbed into his chest unceasingly, hands clutching at the fabrics of his mage robes.

Ghilina loved her hair, her hair very much like her mother's and all too uncommon among the Dalish, but it wasn't the best thing about her. It fell in raven-black waves against her ominously fair skin, so striking that it was one of the only things anyone in her clan commented on. But Solas, he barely seemed to notice it at all. Many times, she had caught him as he watched her like she held stars in her hands and left flowers in her wake. It was enough to bring heat to her face and wonder, fleetingly, what his lips might feel like against her own.

The happy memories she had once treasured like kind and welcome friends in the darkest of times came to her now, each one bearing a dagger for her already vulnerable heart.

Dorian only held her in silence, rocking her slowly and stroking her hair as the tears soaked his chest.

She stared back at him for what felt like hours as they exchanged shy, affectionate words in the snow, until finally she dropped her gaze, "Sweet talker," her voice was quieter now, less confident.

Ghilina dared herself to look up; a gentle flush of pink against her skin that was not because of the biting cold. She held her breath as she leaned up on the tips of her toes, turning his face to her's by the chin, before tentatively pressing her lips to his.

Her head had gone hazy; her body stagnant for all but the sensation of their lips intertwined, so sweet and silken, it was unlike any kiss before.

Before she could regret, to see the discomfort of her boldness on his face, she retreated. Only to feel his hands grip her and pull her back in for a more experienced kiss that robbed her of her breath and her heart.

She trembled and whimpered between waves of misery. Minutes of sobbing broken apart by short pauses for breath. But always she returned, hurling herself back into the open arms of her grief until her whole world faded to black.

Ghilina found herself in her own bed when she was startled awake by the familiar belly laugh of The Iron Bull.

"Oh come on, Kadan. By the look on your face when I found you, I'd have thought you never had seen a woman fainting before."

Ghilina's back was to them, she found as she opened her eyes. Instinctively, she remained still as she listened.

"Could you keep your voice down, Amatus?" Dorian chided, "Half the castle must have heard you, and in case it went unnoticed, the Inquisitor is sleeping."

"Besides," he continued, "the only women I had seen fainting were never my closest friends. This was new, and more concerning."

The Iron Bull grunted, "Judging by the dark circles under her eyes, she must not be sleeping well."

Silence descended on the room then, for so long that Ghilina began to think they might have silently slipped out. The silence was shattered unexpectedly when Dorian spoke.

"She must have been burying herself in work to keep her mind occupied." Dorian quavered with sadness, "You should have seen her when she finally let go, she was… beside herself with grief."

"I can guess. Just seeing that fake smile on her face for our benefit... She was holding everything back."

"You care much more than you pretend to, Amatus." Dorian teased.

Ghilina could hear the smile in Bull's voice, "Hey, I care a great deal."

"Of that, I am certain." Dorian gritted his teeth then, and continued, "What I cannot understand is how Solas could do this to her. No explanation, no closure, nothing. If I ever see him again, I'll… I don't know, but I'll do something to make him regret breaking her heart."

"You are a good one, Kadan. I don't know if she would like hearing you say that. But you're a good man all the same, and a good friend." The pride on Bull's voice was tangible.

"I try to be. Ghilina has become one of my best friends in such a short amount of time. She doesn't deserve this. What he did to her."

Dorian giggled suggestively before he reluctantly agreed. Ghilina heard their receding footsteps shortly after, followed by the soft clatter of her chamber door.

"No, she doesn't." Ghilina heard the creak of a chair, "We should go, Kadan. Let her rest. Besides, you're setting off tomorrow and I would hate to see you go without something to remember me by."

She sat up in bed and stretched, her eyes were sore and swollen, no doubt glaringly red, and feeling puffy at the touch. Her cheeks felt stiff and worn from the dried tears, and her head ached. Yet despite all of that, she felt surprisingly refreshed. Perhaps some time on the balcony would help relieve some of the swelling and soreness she felt.

She paused suddenly as Dorian and Bull's words sank in, had she really been that obvious? It shamed her to think they had noticed how hard she had been trying to prevent them from worrying about her, only for it to backfire. But as much as her heart yet pained and ached, there was a warmth that spread there in the holes left behind. Comfort taken in knowing she had such devoted friends who cared as much about her as she did for them. Friends she had come to consider more like a chosen family, a thought like a salve on a wounded heart that made her smile. A genuine smile that left a strange feeling after faking one for so long.

#dragon age #inquisitor lavellan #dorian pavus #Inquisitor x Dorian friendship #pre-trespasser #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age inquisition #my writing #my fanfiction #Ghilina Lavellan #my oc

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alansparkshark · 5 years

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Alright, this hit me like a Boarbatusk. Or a truck. Same thing.

So, here I am, happily making some RWBY OCs. I get to their Semblances and think: "What can I give them that's useful and connected to their character?" Cuz, you know,

I don't quite get it from that explanation though, so my next thought is: "Well, let's look at the original cast, see what they got and how it pertains to their characters."

And yet the more I looked, the more a thought grew in me.

"There's aren't so much decided by their personalities as they are by their wishes."

Now, hear me out here. For most Semblances we've seen yet and have heard/seen the unlocking of, they seem to have appeared in a moment of need, a moment of physical or emotional stress.

And it always seems to pertain to certain desires the user has.

Alright, let's just start from somewhere. Let me explain my thought process.

I take a character who's Semblance we know of, then check their backstory and personality. Then I check if said backstory/personality could lead to a desire in said character. And finally, I try to see if that desire connects directly to the Semblance of the character in question.

Let's start with someone who's Semblance we not only know, but saw the moment they found it.

Lie Ren.

First off, we check their personality/backstory. Ren is a quiet, less emotionally expressive character. He seems to stay calm in every moment. As the story progresses, he grows more expressive - in current-day Kuroyuri, he is shown in a rage.

So far, it seems fitting that such a character gets a Semblance such as "Calmness", as I'll dub it.

But it's the moment that he unlocks it that makes it interesting.

Up until that point, we've seen Ren as an excitable little boy. He went from store to store, trying to find something to buy his father for his return. He shows a lot of emotions at that point. When the Nuckelavee attacks and his parents perish, he is panicked beyond belief and is hiding under an archway. He notices Nora a little ways away, in a similar state. He wants to help her. He wants to take action, but he's too panicked to move. He wants to calm down , he tries and tries and- his Semblance activates. His desire to calm down activated his unique ability - to instill calmness despite negative emotions. His wish was to do as his father and mother did - be brave and inspire others to feel the same.

In other words, his Semblance was unlocked by his desire to be calm so he could be reliable to those he cares about.

Alright, next big example - Jaune.

His Semblance was first hinted at in "Forever Fall, pt.2" as Cardin attempted to give Jaune the good ol' knuckle sandwich, only hurt his hand after a bright flash of light (This'll be of importance later). The next time we see it is alllll the way in "Vault of The Spring Maiden", and this time it was fully unlocked. His Semblance of Aura Amplification is one that I personally feel really fits his character - he doesn't want to protect his friends. He wants to do as Pyrrha did for him at Beacon - bring them up, assist them in achieving new heights but not doing it instead of them. Notice how I again used "wants". His desire to do as a good leader should, bring up his teammates, is the basis of his Semblance. It's the same with when he blocked Cardin's punch - he wanted to bring himself up from the pitiful state he was in at the time, not just protect himself from the pain but have the strength to overcome it.

Alright, next up on the list... is Raven, surprisingly.

She was one of the easiest to piece to this logic, as she and Qrow have an irony with their Semblances. But back to Raven.

Her Semblance is "Connection", as I'll call it. It's premise is relatively simple - she can create a portal to those she has a strong emotional connection to. The list so far includes Qrow (brother & teammate), Taiyang (lover & teammate), Yang (daughter) and Vernal (right-hand woman until her untimely demise). We know about Vernal due to process of elimination - unless you wanna imply she actually had a connection to Cinder or her companions. And yet, her whole story is how she abandoned her daughter and her husband. She told Qrow "they owed everything to the Branwen tribe", strongly implying, if not confirming she feels a sense of thankfulness to the people who raised her when she needed it. She admonished Qrow for deserting the clan. She feels a sense of duty towards them. And yet, her Semblance is based entirely on emotional connection - something I doubt is of great importance in a bandit clan composed of "killers and thieves", in Qrow's words. I'd hazard to guess that a childhood in a bandit clan would easily stir a desire to form lasting bonds - something easily achievable when you can make portals. Despite her sense of duty, she still desires a strong emotional bond, devoid of power dynamics and a sense of "we may die any day". Something she had with Taiyang and Yang. Something she had with Qrow and Vernal, despite the circumstances. Really adds a layer to her character if you put it like that.

Alright, who's next... hm, let's put Qrow on the dissection table now.

His Semblance of "Misfortune" seems awfully contradictory to his character, that of a caring man who can barely stand to hurt those close to him, even if they're not family and friends. Why would that be his Semblance?

Well, he obviously didn't have a great opinion of the Branwen tribe. Who knows, maybe what Raven saw as being saved, Qrow saw as being used. Maybe he wished that they'd be caught by bad luck, that the tribe would just collapse and disappear. But that spite evolved into his current Semblance - everyone around him suffers while he's only really left with emotional scars.

Welp. That was depressing. Who's up for getting at Nora next.

Now, this is gonna be pretty short this time. There's not a lot to talk about. She sees Ren as her emotional anchor, her savior. She wants to give back for what he does. She sees he's struggling on the physical side (he's pretty low on the endurance, as evident multiple times throughout the show), so she desires to be strength he's lacking in. And look where that got her - her Semblance, "Charging" makes her grow exponentially stronger the more electricity she absorbs. She can even channel it into objects, like Magnhild or an Ursa. I'd say mission successful, you funky little Thor ginger.

Let's finish up JNPR with their resident apology machine - Pyrrha.

So, we know she'd been in many tournaments. She's the Invincible Girl. The three-time Mistral regional battle tournament winner. She's honestly a gladiator. And what does a gladiator crave? Victory. That's where her overpowered (in comparison to others) Semblance appeared from. She simply wanted to beat her opponents more easily. Well, until she didn't want all the fame that came along with her power.

Alright, who do we mentally lay bare... Hm, Velvet seems simple enough.

What's there to say - a shy, bullied bunny. She's a second year in the first year's history class. I'd say that would do some things to your confidence. And what's her Semblance? Well it just so happens to be "Movement Copying". She can copy a person's physical movements, even if she has not seen them, as shown in "Heroes and Monsters". Makes sense - her desire to be as strong as those around her shows both in her Semblance and her weapon (which is basically a weapon-copying camera). She doesn't have confidence that she's strong, so she (quite literally) does as those around her.

Hm, who next... oooh, how about Yang?

"...basically a temper tantrum", I'd call it "Rise Up". This also can connect to a desire. Yang, being repeatedly battered by one damaging event after the other - her mother abandoning her, her stepmother dying, likely a depression in her father and mothering Ruby. The girl has likely been brought down more than once. But she desires to get stronger from it, so much so that the desire has become a characteristic. She shows so when she decides to find Ruby, when she decides to start training again. She has done it again and again and she'll continue doing it - her desire is now another part of her personality that won't break.

Alright, we put Yang here, how about we make a Bumbleby combo and go for Blake next.

"Shadows", now that's a name I can get behind. She "leaves an empty shell, a shadow to take the hit while she runs". It's, all things considered, a kind of cowardly Semblance. It's basically "here, beat on this while I dodge away and escape the attack". And with the recent events, we've seen she doesn't wanna run anymore - yet she retains her Semblance unchanged? Makes no sense if it's connected to a personality trait. But if it's connected to a desire, then it would make perfect sense. Firstly, she's a Faunus. We know for a fact that there's Faunus discrimination (seriously, if the Adam short and Adam's scar aren't enough proof for you...) and that she was fighting against it in protests. And if our world is anything to go by... yeah, it's easy to see how peaceful any counter-protests would be. Not to mention Adam himself. From all those factors collected, well, the thought process behind the desire her Semblance is founded on becomes obvious - she realised the racists only saw an animal, nothing of importance where Blake stood. So she gave them just that - an empty sandbag to hit while she runs. I'm not gonna get into Adam, as I'm simply sick of the topic.

Hmm, who's left... Well, Weiss has a familial Semblances. The Schnee Glyphs aren't so much unique as the summons included. Really, the only thing unique about her Semblance is who she summons, as we've seen a Queen Lancer, a Boarbatusk and the Arma Gigas, unlike Winter, who we've seen with a flock of tiny Nevermores and a Beowolf. The show says the Schnee family Semblance is a very rare thing, a passed-down-by-blood power. So it's an understandable outlier.

Let's look at Ruby next... Well, she seems to be a very big outlier to this theory of mine. Her silver eyes have more to do with her desires than her Speed. Maybe she has a desire we have yet to see? Anyways, I don't quite have an explanation for Ruby, so I'll leave her aside.

Let's clean our palates with Sun, then.

His Semblance, "Kage Bunshin No Jutsu" (I know it's called "Via Sun", but I wanted to make an unoriginal joke), actually seems to fit my theory. We don't have much, if any, backstory, but in this case we need none. His desire, as we've seen many times throughout the series and which was twisted in Volume 4 & 5, is to help people. He wants to be there for those he cares about, like Blake and his team, but he realises he can't do it alone. So his desire turned into his Semblance, "One Monkey Army" - a way for him to help even if he's alone to do so. You can't tell me he hasn't used his Semblance to fetch something for someone at least once.

Hm, few people left. Let's go with Emerald.

Her "Hallucinations" are a nod to her growing up on the streets. A place you'd be begging people not to pay attention to you. Her Semblance, then, is born from the obvious desire to fool prey and predators alike.

Neo... We don't know much about her. No backstory, some personality, but honestly? The only idea I have at this moment is more of a headcannon. But I CAN connect her Semblance's evolution. So, before V6, her Semblance is simply making physical illusions. It's honestly similar to Blake's "Shadows", in some uses, but it's definitely a lot more of a multi-use tool. It can be used to make her look different, if not outright invisible. But it always shatters upon being hit. Fast forward to V6 and her fight against Cinder, and suddenly she can use the illusions as straight up puppets to fight for her. Her Semblance grew, to put it bluntly. But why in such a manner? Her illusions were fragile and immobile before, now they're tougher and mobile to the point of being straight up weapons. But why in that direction? Well, they can move and touch things without them breaking now. Guess who's started to get more headpats from her partner.

Alright, Hazel is up for the mental strip.

Honestly, despite our lack of major backstory here, his Semblance is pretty easy to trace back. Nobody likes pain, outside of masochists, so it's easy to understandable he'd have a Semblance that removes the feeling of pain.

Adam. Adam Adam Adam. He's surprisingly more similar to Hazel than Yang in terms of Semblance. Yeah, you heard that right. "He gets to dish out damage and not feel it". His Semblance is basically a self-loading gun - he can use the power of strikes to charge it, only to the unleash various empowered slashes. He refuses to feel pain, just like Hazel, but unlike him, he also desired to return what was meant for him straight back at his attackers. Hazel is relatively peaceful when the situation doesn't include Ozpin, but Adam? He's aggressive, always bloodthirsty. His desire was simple - feed his thirst for vengeance. A perfect Semblance for that wish, no?

Hm, well we only have Glynda left. I got nothing. I don't see how I'd understand her desire to have telekinesis without a backstory I doubt we'll get.

Well, that's it for that! I feel like I'm onto something.

#rwby #ruby rose #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #qrow branwen #weiss schnee #jaune arc #nora valkryie #lie ren #pyrrha nikos #raven branwen #emerald sustrai #rwby neo #hazel rainart #adam taurus #velvet scarlatina #sun wukong #glynda goodwitch

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misscrazyfangirl321 · 2 years

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Abby and Nikola: I'm not being a grump, I'm being normal. If you don't like it, I don't care.

"I'm not being a grump. I'm being normal. If you don't like it, I don't care."

He regrets the words as soon as they're out of his mouth. She actually takes a half-step back, eyes wide and hurt. He doesn't talk to her like this; the others, sure, but they deserve it. She's actually unapologetically nice to him, even to the point of stubbornness, shutting down others who try to insult him (even when, in fairness, he probably deserves their ire). She goes on missions with him without complaint.

Normally, he tries to give some of that kindness back to her. He can be polite, after all, even if it's annoying to bite back some of his more clever commentary, and she's an easy person to be polite to; he always enjoys their talks. Today, though...

Well, the inevitable happened. Good. She needs to learn the truth: there are no nice people in the world, and the quicker she accepts that, the better her life will be. (The justifications leave a bitter twist in his stomach, clumsy and unconvincing, but he grits his teeth, ignoring that.)

She starts to walk away, and he wills himself to stay put, to stare her down unapologetically. He doesn't care about people, after all; he doesn't. And he isn't one of the heroes, no matter how hard Helen's tried to convince him. He's with them for now, but that doesn't mean he has to live up to their standards. He takes care of himself, and it's better that way; he doesn't owe anyone anything. He doesn't care who he hurts. He-

He can't go through with it.

Irritation washes over him-what has this team done to him-but he quickly refocuses on the task at hand. Clearing his throat, he calls out to her, though she's almost out of sight.

"You know who I am. Clearly, you've read a history book or two, so you know about me."

She stops, but doesn't turn back to him. Her shoulders are set, muscles tense. The sweetheart has a few sharp edges, as much as she tries to hide them.

"And?"

"So you know about my brother."

It takes only half a second to register. When it does, she turns to face him. And oh, see, this is why he doesn't like to talk about stuff like this. She's looking at him with pity, and he instantly hates it. Still, there's uncertainty in her frame, and he's come this far. Might as well follow through.

"Today's his birthday. Would be, anyway. I don't know how that works. Does it stop being your birthday once you die?"

He tries to be flippant, to keep his tone light. This absolutely isn't a heart-to-heart; it's just an explanation of his unneccesarily jerkish behavior.

She relaxes, hurt fading away, but that gentle pain for him doesn't lessen. Darn it. "Nik-"

"Yeah, I don't want to talk about it. Just thought I'd-" He waves a hand vaguely. "Explain. Don't worry, I'll go be grumpy in my room, away from everyone."

He turns to go without waiting for her reaction, the ache in his chest sudden and fierce. His older brother-his hero-his whole world, until-

And now there's a woman in his arms, and he's not quite sure how she got there.

"Uh, Abigail?" He pokes her back carefully. "What are you doing?"

"I thought you were supposed to be a genius." And somehow, her voice is light, casual. It settles somewhere in his chest, and his next breath comes a little easier.

"Right, okay. What I mean is, why are you hugging me?"

Maybe that's not the smartest question either, but he doesn't quite know how to say I don't do this, it isn't necessary, please don't stop.

She holds him a bit tighter, and against his will, he begins to relax into her hold. It's nice, even if it's completely unneccesary. He's fine; totally fine. He has to be.

"Because," she says simply, then falls silent. Apparently, that's the only explanation she's going to give.

Dane's face flashes through his mind, the details fuzzy from more than a century gone by, and Nikola exhales, the fight draining from him. He's tired, and he misses his brother. And from most people, he wouldn't tolerate this-this comfort-but then again, most people wouldn't try.

Maybe that's why he doesn't let go.

#abby corrigan #nikola tesla #sanctuary #nikabby #rat man: *tries to be ratty*#rat man's brain: sorry. rat man machine broken. pls try again later.#rat man: :/#answered #thanks for the ask!#lattes of love #my fics #my writing #my works #mine

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sabraeal · 7 years

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Headcannon: Haki likes to play games with Izana, especially when she knows something that he doesn't. It's usually something minor and completely useless, but it drives Izana mad (low key of course) until he figures it out. But thats her favorite part of these games, because when he does figure it out the sex is great.

(Part Three of a series. Part One. Part Two.)

He must be made to trust her.

After the anger has faded and the wounds to her pride scabbed over, that is the thought that comes to her on her wedding night and every one thereafter. Until it can be proven to my satisfaction, he said, and that is the soil in which she plants her hopes in. She is no spy, and it should be all too easy to show that her allegiance lies with the crown.

Or at least it will, as soon as she is sure her royal husband does not mean to tear the North asunder.

He comes to her chambers every night for a week; she greets him warmly in front of her ladies. In their sight he acts like a loving bridegroom, if a bit restrained. Nothing that could not be explained by the dignity of his position. When she sends them away, blushing prettily at their sly smiles, his mask is promptly discarded, and he makes for the passage between their rooms.

“Why do you come at all, then?” she asks, trying to smooth the spite from her voice. She will keep his secret – their secret – but he owes her an explanation, at the least. “If you cannot abide me.”

He hesitates a moment, eyebrows lifted in surprise. “We are just married.” He smiles at that, strangely soft. “And – what is it they always say about newlyweds? – they cannot keep their hands off each other.”

She is wroth to find her first thought is, then you should not keep your hands off me.

If she is to prove her worth to him, she must impress him; she must show him she can offer him something that no one else can.

It must be a surprise. Which means it cannot be done in front of her ladies.

An easier thing said than done. They are around her always during the day, kind if a bit quiet. Now that she has had more than a few hours to know them, she sees that they are not a bevy of eligible maids, as she had original thought, but unmarried woman closer to her own age. None of them seem to be much interested in the young bucks at court, instead suggesting they take walks through the gardens – world-renowned, they assure her, though none of them have seen the hothouses of Lyrias – or painting by the river, or, on poorer days, needlepoint inside.

If his personality did not make it impossible, she might suspect rather uncharitable reasons for his selection of these women. It would not be the first time a king hid his mistresses in his wife’s entourage.

But there are no jealous glares, no posturing, and – miraculously – no in-fighting. Instead they are a gentle touch at her elbow, a helpful comment whispered in her ear. If she’s not careful, she might find herself trusting them.

Still, duping them is child’s play. This is not her first time escaping her chaperone.

The Queen Dowager intends to stay at Wistal for a few weeks after the wedding. Haki finds herself torn: on the one hand she is glad of it, for they have always gotten on, as close as two women may be who are not mother and daughter; but at the same time it is clear that she is here to serve as distraction. Whenever her husband holds court, or he speaks with the council, she is suddenly possessed with an invitation from Her Majesty. She may not be forbidden from the room, but she is certainly being told she is not welcome.

Her Majesty’s presence also has another unpleasant side effect: informal dinner.

“You should take your wedding trip soon,” the Queen Dowager suggests, undaunted by her son’s forbidding look. “If you plan to go out of the country, you would do well to plan before autumn, otherwise the passes may freeze. You know how the mountains always snow early.”

Izana lets out a long breath through his nose, setting down his fork. “I do not think now is the time for such a thing, Mother.”

“Now is the perfect time,” she informs him blithely, in the way only a mother could. Haki hides her grin behind a napkin, pretending to dab off some of her soup course.

“Mother.” The word is said with long-suffering patience, flavored with the slightest hint of plaintiveness. “The situation here is…delicate. It would not do to have me away.“

Her Majesty arches one of her perfectly formed brows. “I think the situation could be a lot more delicate. A wedding trip would help with that.”

Her husband valiantly ignores the suggestion, appearing too taken with the roasted duck on his plate.

“I’ve heard Yuris is quite nice, this time of year,” she continues, unperturbed by her son’s reticence. “Though some say Viande is finer. More cosmopolitan.”

His mouth pulls flat, but he replies, so even, “Viande is far too young for my tastes. Later, maybe.”

His mother’s mouth curves slyly. “I’ve always preferred the islands myself.”

It is good to know that even here, her family name keeps its clout. The North does not forgive, but nor does it forget, he father had told her so many times.

She is pleased to find how true it is.

When Her Majesty leaves, her husband stops his nightly visits – but not entirely.

He takes dinner with her twice weekly, and when they have finished, he escorts her to her chambers, letting all and sundry see him slip inside. He, of course, does not stay longer than to bid her a civil goodnight.

“Am I to assume your eagerness was all a show for Her Majesty?” she asks one night before he leaves. It is a marvel how even her voice is.

“It is only natural for the ardor to cool between wed couples,” he explains, “I thought two nights would be enough so that I do not seem to be neglecting my duties, neither in the court nor…bedroom.”

She has a novel’s worth of things to say about that, but she says instead, “It just so happens to coincide with your mother’s departure.”

He flinches, but a bare moment later he is compose again, as if it had never happened. “Consider it a courtesy to you,” he tells her breezily. “Pray you never have idea how interested she is in…grandchildren.”

At last, her connections bear fruit. She is quick to pen her letter, mouth curved slyly as she slips it to her messenger.

Oh, how surprised His Majesty will be.

“I heard Her Majesty sent you a letter,” Haki starts, crossing her utensils over the soup course to signal she is ready for the next. “How is Wilant?”

It is part of her plan to ask, but as the words fall out, she find that she wants to know. Wistal is ever-summer, a paradise compared to the endless winters of the North but –

But it is her home, nonetheless. She misses it.

“Cold,” he says simply, agitated. After a long pause, he adds, “She was inquiring after a wedding trip again. She assured me it would help along some more delicate issues.”

Haki stifles a snort. She misses the woman more than she expected; she had hoped that her departure would leave her time to involve herself in council sessions, but instead there are yet more ladies to please, and she wishes instead she could beg off to walk the gardens with Her Majesty. She is far more pleasant company than most in the capital, and familiar.

She does not think her husband can be behind all of her invitations, but neither does she think it is an accident that there is always a tea or luncheon she cannot possibly miss when there is due to be a meeting.

“She favored Yuris, did she not?” Haki composes her face into a thoughtful expression. “That is where our newest councilor is from, is it not? From when you had to remove Brecker?”

“Yes,” her husband says, a little absent. “He finally tried something a little more egregious than obstructing a messenger bird. I thought it time to let Yuris’ people have a say in the way they are governed.”

It bothers how much she could like him, if he was someone that allowed himself to be liked.

“Yes, I remember now.” She presses a finger to her lips in though. “Ah, yes – the councilor. It’s the chieftain’s daughter is it not?”

“It is.”

“Kihal. I talked to her at the wedding. A bright girl.” She lifts her wine glass, taking a casual sip. “I’ve heard she’s considered a good match for the prince.”

Her husband goes curiously still.

“And the princess of Viande as well, no?” she asks, so innocent. “Akaibara. She’s quite young though. Fifteen is it? I doubt Zen would consent to such a match, if it was proposed…now.”

His mouth lifts at the corner, canting his lips into a smirk. He lays down his fork, drawing his gaze up to meet hers. “All right, wife. You have my attention.” He settles back into his chair. “What do you plan to do with it?”

“Oh!” She flutters her eyelashes prettily. “I only meant to suggest that I could be of service to you, husband.”

His long fingers drum thoughtfully on the table. “Is that so?”

“I found that out easily enough.” She tries to keep the frustration out of her voice. “And that was in a court in which I had very few connections. One might imagine I could do more with connections more familiar…”

“You would not say such a thing if you did not already have a tender morsel to give.” She flushes under his sultry look, his hooded eyes reminding her of nothing more than that she is a married woman who has not yet lain with her husband. His hand reaches out for hers, running a finger along one of the long bones of her hand. “Come now, wife. Won’t you feed your husband?”

Haki fights the urge to pull her hands away, pushing back the muzziness in her head. She mislikes how easily he can turn her thoughts to mush and her knees to jelly.

“Oh, but husband,” she sighs, leaning just so, so that her breasts brush at his wrist. “If I am to serve, then are you not to take?”

His brows draw together as if her suggestion confused him, but then his gaze drops to her decolletage, and –

“Oh,” he breathes. “You are a clever vixen, are you not?”

Two long fingers slip between the lace of her gown and the linen of her chemise, pinching her prize between them. She does not think it is her imagination that he lingers, or that his breath comes as harsh as her own. His fingers slide out, brushing over the smooth skin of her breast –

“A letter?” he says, holding the nearly folded square of parchment. She’s folded it down to hardly more than an inch; a lesson learned during interminable lessons with the other maids at Wilant. “Cunningly done.”

She shrugs, feigning humility. “There is a trick to it.”

He opens it, his eyebrows lifting as he read the contents. “Rodatrad wants to place his daughter at court?”

“He’s quite eager, so I’ve been told,” she agrees. “From what I’ve heard, only a prince will do. We don’t have very many of those at Wilant.”

“Nor are you to get very many more, if my welcome was typical,” he remarks, and when she looks up to refute him, he is smiling. He is teasing. “Very good, wife. This is good information, indeed. I will have to talk this over with my advisors, so that we may plan how to approach this.”

“Oh, husband,” she purrs, leaning further into him. “Do you not know? I will take care of you in all ways.”

He stiffens. “What do you mean?”

“It is already handled,” she tells him, pleased. “I offered her a place among my ladies.”

“You did what?” He launches from his seat, leaving her cold. “Without my permission?”

She should have expected him to be ungrateful. “You may have forgotten, since I have been so permissive, but a Queen’s entourage is of her own selection.”

“I – only by the King’s leave.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You offered a position to a – how did you – how did you manage this? Your ladies –”

“You think I would do this in front of your spies?” she scoffs. “Do you think I am somehow new to –”

“Spies?” He stares at her as if he has never seen such a terrifying creature. “I surrounded you with the most politically adept young women that Wistal has to offer, and you – they were here to help you!”

She stares. He meant them to help? Her mind races as she recalls the last few weeks, how they were eager to impart knowledge of the other courtiers, of members of the council that crossed her path – oh, oh –

A thunderous cloud passes over his face. “Ah, but I should have known. You are far too clever to be helped.”

He throws his napkin onto the table. “I find myself weary after dinner. I think I shall go straight to bed.”

She can do little more than stare at her hands. If only he had told her –

He fixes her with one last glare. “After all, I have much to rectify tomorrow.”

#anonymous #hakizana #100 days of obiyuki (and more)#my fic #ans #haki is an excessively clever woman #used to being underestimated #whereas izana is not one to leave any piece underutilized #you can expect that there will be some level of....adjustment #as they get used to not being the smartest person in the room #(also despite the prompt #there is no sex in this fic #not yet)

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