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oratonom · 3 years

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Beheaded Nightmares - Swapped AU

@ender1821 @arithebroadwayaddict @percy-the-penguin @mega-heir-of-heart (sorry I keep @ you guys specifically but you’re the other minds behind the au—)

So, I made a thing. It was really to experiment a bit with personalities (and I also just really wanted to write a bit for that idea I made for the Beheaded queens). I hope it worked out well, if not then I’ll just work on getting personalities and the like right in the future.

(All Swapped!Queens go by their last name. Original queens go by their first.)

TWs: nightmares, mentions of arson/setting fires, past beheading, language

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Seymour grumbled under her breath as she was pulled along.

This night had not been going as planned. Her life wasn’t going as planned, being perfectly honest.

Her first life she got beheaded. Then she woke up in a strange house with Henry’s other five bitches. Seymour liked being brought back, but five (four) pains in the ass and constant nightmares were really shitty.

Seymour appreciates chaos, she would even say she thrived in it, but the arguments were starting to get old.

And just when things couldn’t get any fucking weirder, they were sent to another universe.

Another universe with a different version of her.

Another version that reminded her too damn much of her old self. Quiet, demure, anxious, motherly. Seymour hated it.

(She didn’t know if she hated Jane as a person. But she surely despised the memories. And this woman being another version of her who had died before breaking her chains certainly didn’t stop Seymour from pranking her and setting fire to one of Jane’s shirts.)

Apparently, Seymour’s group was supposed to learn to get along or some shit.

Seymour still doubted extremely that it would happen. They were all bitches and Seymour couldn’t see herself getting along with them. They were either scolding her for the arson and general chaos she brought with her or intimidating. She supposed Cleves was alright, she’s started to help her with some pranks (it turned out much later that Seymour adored Anna, she was much more than ‘alright’)

Parr was the only one of her group that she could stand.

The woman was quiet, almost mute. She had constant nightmares and always looked so anxious. But she was also so nice, a sweetheart. And when Seymour wasn’t causing her usual amount of chaos, she could usually be found by Parr’s side.

And it looked like Parr latched onto her in turn.

Seymour would never admit it out loud, but she could even go so far as to say she was very protective of the younger woman. She cared.

Maybe that was why she was letting herself be dragged through the hallway by the mentioned former queen.

That and the nightmare she had.

Seymour had actually been in the kitchen when Parr found her. It was a rare night when she actually decided to sleep in trade of the chaos. The following nightmare had left her scratching at her throat and creeping from the room she shared with Jane.

Seymour didn’t need her counterpart’s pity.

At some point, she decided to distract herself. By seeing how many glasses of water she could chug. Seymour was on her second cup when Parr found her, the former still scratching at her scar with one hand. In fact, Parr herself was also scratching at her scar, tears on her cheeks.

She was next to Seymour before the third queen really had a chance to process seeing her, curling into the taller woman’s side.

Seymour didn’t hesitate before wrapping an arm around Parr’s shoulders. The usually chaotic queen was silent.

Soon Parr pulled back slightly to look up at Seymour. It was the older of the two that asked, “nightmare?”

Parr slowly nodded, her hand still over her exposed scar.

“Same here. It’s really shitty, huh?” Seymour laughed. “Fuck that fat bastard!”

Parr smiled slightly. “Yeah.”

“Want to help me ruin more of Aragon’s sweaters? I need to vent on something.” Seymour asked, pulling the lighter from her pants pocket and lazily flicking it.

Parr stared at the flashing flame for a moment before taking Seymour’s hand. “Come with me?”

And after a teasing remark of acceptance, Seymour found herself being carefully pulled through the house. The former queen wasn’t entirely sure where they were heading, but she could definitely say she was surprised when they stopped in front of the Annes’ door.

(Seymour didn’t know about Parr and Anne meeting in the kitchen one night. Both of them had nightmares and had to calm each other down. A friendship blossomed from there and Parr usually went to Anne for nightmares now.)

Then, Parr gave her familiar, quiet knock, one as if the door would fall if she knocked any harder (hmm, that got Seymour’s mind buzzing. How many knocks or how much force would it take to knock the door down? Something chaotic to test, it seemed).

There was muffled conversation and then shifting from within the room. Then, the door opened to show Anne.

(Anne was someone Seymour actually could call herself friends with. The two had quickly begun making chaos together, much to the chagrin of their counterparts, more so Boleyn than Jane.)

Seymour hummed with a tilt of her head upon noticing the scar around Anne’s neck being scratched just like theirs were.

“Are we bothering you?” Parr asked softly, keeping her hold on Seymour’s hand.

“Yep.” Anne gave them a grin.

Parr laughed, as if that response was normal. Seymour only stood there, gaze flitting between the two as Anne let them into the room.

Kat sat on Anne’s bed, her own choker off and neck in the same state as theirs. Boleyn was nowhere to be seen.

It was still strange to see their faces but yet so different. Different styles and personalities. To not be called a ‘cretin’ or ‘that one bitch.’

“I guess we’re all having bad nights, yeah?” Kat asked with a rather bitter chuckle.

“None of you losers look nice tonight.” Seymour said with a snicker.

Anne grinned at her. “Right back at you.”

“Nice pair of scissors on your desk there.”

“Oh yeah?”

Parr grabbed onto their arms, giving the both of them pleading looks. “Please don’t.”

The two relented, but gave each other smirks over Parr’s head.

“You two get the shitty dreams too?” Seymour pasted a smirk on her face. She needed to hide that twinge of fear still in her chest.

“Yeah, didn’t know the great, chaotic Seymour got them.” Anne looked knowing. “But then again, losing your head really does hurt more than a broken heart.”

“Poetic.” Seymour snickered.

“Isn’t it?” Anne easily matched her grin. “Parr and Chaton have come to me before, haven’t seen you until now.”

“Who needs nightmares when you can have chaos?” Seymour sneered. Usually after a nightmare, she would destroy something as an outlet. Be it setting it on fire or ripping it to shreds.

“You, my friend, are speaking my language.” Anne agreed with a laugh.

“Oh god, this house better be scared of you two teaming up.” Kat looked more amused than worried, Parr now at her side fidgeting anxiously with her hands but smiling at the conversation. “The arsonist and the prankster.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m not an arsonist!”

“I can prank your ass off, just watch! I’ve done many pranks!”

The four fell into a bit of laughter before falling silent.

They all joined Kat on the bed, sitting in a circle. They were all quiet, Anne fidgeting with the blanket and Seymour still flicking the lighter.

“Do you guys… want to talk about your…?” Kat trailed off, gesturing silently to her own scar.

Parr and Seymour both tensed. Parr began to rub worriedly at her scar and Seymour snarled.

“And if we don’t want to?” Seymour snapped immediately.

“Then we won’t make you.” It was Kat who shrugged.

“The fuck?” Seymour muttered, fixing them with a suspicious stare. “You won’t make me talk?”

“We know how hard it is to talk about things sometimes.” Kat gave her a smile.

“I was surprised too.” Parr whispered to Seymour. “But they’re telling the truth. I promise. Or at least Anne is…”

“Then what the hell do we do instead…?” Seymour questioned with a frown.

“Why don’t we just get to know each other?” Anne offered. “What do the two of you like to do?”

“Reading is nice, and Cathy’s been helping me write again…”

Seymour gave them another suspicious glance before perking up slightly. “I like chaos. Setting fire and destroying shit!”

“I’m not saying that’s a bad thing to like, but maybe calm down on the arson a bit? I’m pretty sure you can get arrested.”

The four talked into the night, laughter and banter taking away their fear and worries from earlier in the night.

“Okay, watch the lighter! I like my bed!” Anne jokes as Seymour almost dropped the lighter mid-flick.

Just as Seymour was about to retort, both Parr and Kat let out yawns. The two glanced at each other and began to laugh.

“Looks like it’s time to try and sleep some more, yeah?” Anne said, a soft smile on her lips in trade for her usual chaotic smile.

“Guess so.” Kat hummed, already moving under the blankets. Parr was soon to join her after reassurances from both Anne and Kat. Seymour blinked, standing now, as Parr willingly burrowed into Kat’s side.

Anne joined them and all three looked back at Seymour, as if waiting.

“Aren’t you going to join us?” Kat asked after a moment.

Seymour snorted. “What, sleeping together? Why the hell would I do that?”

Parr frowned at her, reaching out slightly from her place between Anne and Kat. “Please?”

“Us beheaded queens have to stick together, you know.” Anne said.

Seymour watched the three for a moment. Then, a smirk crossed her lips. “Alright, fine! But don’t think this will be a more than one night thing! I’ve got chaos to cause!”

“Hell yeah you do. Now get over here.” Anne grinned right back.

Kat rolled her eyes and murmured something to Parr that had the blue queen giggling.

Seymour wasn’t entirely sure about sharing a bed with these three, no matter how friendly they were. But their warmth and the arm Anne had curled around her quickly worked to guide her to sleep.

For once, Seymour rested well, no nightmares or chaos in sight.

#six the musical #swapped six au #anne boleyn #katherine howard #Swapped!Jane #Swapped!Cathy

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ranjxtul · 5 years

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Fire and Reign- Chapter 2: Another One

Witches AU Chapter Two. Possible TW for violence.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19249039/chapters/45910348

It was several days after Katerine had first been brought to the coven that she had rested sufficiently enough for any sort of ability assessment. Turns out being brutally murdered and bringing yourself back to life really took a lot out of a person. In that time, she’d gone with Jane and Anne to get things from her flat and she’d begrudgingly called her parents to let them know she was alive and that instead of living alone she was moving in with Anne. They didn’t know about witches, there was no need to change that.

On her sixth day at the house, Katherine announced over breakfast she wanted to test the waters with her powers and begin to learn the wards Aragon had discussed the first night at dinner. Truth be told, she wasn’t paying all that much attention to how she was physically. She was more focused on learning. The more she ruminated on the Henry situation, the more her anger and also fear increased. She feared for the coven and herself should he find them, and she was angry at his wanton massacre of innocent people (she’d be lying if some of that didn’t come from the fact that he’d almost killed her cousin).

Consequently, the girl was eager to learn, especially if it was from Parr or Aragon. Already she admired the two for their obvious intellect and skill. She’d also found herself searching for Cleves’ or Jane’s company at some points. Anna had an energetic but simultaneously laid back vibe, and had some of the best one-liners she’d heard in her life. Jane was maternal and the conversation with her was never dull. Even in such a short period of time, Katherine found herself relaxing into this new environment and maybe even growing a bit attached to her new friends. For that reason, among others, she was determined not to be the weak link in the event of a confrontation with Henry.

“How is this going to work exactly?” Katherine asked as she stood in the fenced in backyard wringing her hands admittledy a bit nervous. She understood this was purely assessment, and that knowing virtually nothing about witchcraft she shouldn’t be fabulous at anything. Regardless, she didn’t want to make a fool of herself.

“We’ll start with what you’ve been able to do, telekinesis and vitalum vitalis. We need to know how strong your raw ability is,” Parr explained coming to stand beside Katherine. Taking note of Katherine’s body language she added, “Don’t stress about it. This is totally meant to just be a baseline.”

Katherine nodded, “Yeah. Is there anything specific you want me to do, like with telekinesis,” she specified wanting to get on with it.

“Move one of the chairs across the patio,” came Aragon’s voice as she approached the duo. The brunette gave a short nod, turning to face the patio. She focused on the lightest looking chair and imagined it shooting across the gravel, like she’d imagined the glass flying last time.

Much to her surprise and delight, the chair did just that after several seconds, only with so much force that it careened into the adjacent wall. “Maybe with less force next time,” Aragon’s voice came from behind, caring a note of mirth.

Katherine felt her face flush a light shade of pink, “Sorry, yeah. Noted,” she said turning back to face Aragon and Parr.

“No need to apologize,” Aragon dismissed her. Catherine tilted her head pensively. If Howard had been able to do that so quickly then she wondered if she could do something a bit more detailed. It’d need to be something that wouldn’t break easily considering the lack of control with respect to the amount of force. “Can you make the rake that’s laying against the greenhouse move to the corner of the fence diagonal to us?” Parr asked nodding toward the aforementioned rake.

Katherine’s eyes followed Parr’s head until they landed on the garden rake against the house. She gave a short nod in Parr’s direction, unsure of whether or not she could in fact do it.

“Have the intention and don’t let your mind stray,” Aragon advised with a small smile. It didn’t take clairvoyance to discern that Katherine was still unsure of herself.

Katherine glanced back at Aragon, “Yeah.” Then she turned once and focused on the yard tool and did her best to envision it in the designated corner. Similarly to her first go, the rake flew with prodigal force, albeit it did land in its target, crashing against the fence and promptly falling to the ground from its impact.

Instead of commenting on the lack of control again, Parr nudged Katherine, a smile on her face, “Well done. That’s promising.” Parr imagined with a bit of training and practice, Katherine could rival her or maybe even Aragon in regards to telekinesis.

“Let’s move on then?” Aragon suggested moving so she was now standing on Katherine’s other side.

“Sounds good to me,” Katherine nodded. Her relative success at this first endeavor helped her feel a little bit more capable, but she knew that toying with raw ability was still far from being a distinguished mage.

“We were thinking you could start with a dead plant, that way it won’t drain your energy. Bringing something larger like a human back to life when you’re untrained can really tire you out, as I’m sure you’ve realized,” Parr explained starting toward her greenhouse with Aragon not far behind her.

Katherine quickly took the initiative and began to follow the two women. “Is this where you’re working normally when you disappear during the day?” Katherine asked remembering Catherine’s notable absence from lunch to dinner.

“Indeed. It’s peaceful and I love my plants. Being able to slip out and tend to them or work on spells or potions is nice.” While that was all very true, Parr kept all of her research out in the greenhouse. It was her space and usually only those she invited (along with the occasional unannounced visit from Jane or Aragon) were around.

The earthy smell of soil and leaves filled the air the minute the trio stepped into the greenhouse. Varieties of herbs and plants filled one section of it and a shelf of books and vials sat across from it. Further down were a few tables set in the center where Parr had put certain plants out for some reason or another, and right beside the door that led back into the house sat a small wooden desk whose surface was covered with stacks of notebooks and a closed laptop. Parr led Katherine to one of the metal tables in the center of the room.

“This is Devil’s Claw. We use this in spells for protection along with some others. I came in here the other day and noticed it was rotting, and figured I’d save it for when you were doing this,” Parr elucidated reaching across the table to pull a large pot closer to her and Katherine.

“How do I do this? I was unconscious when I did this last,” Katherine finally admitted after a minute of sizing up the plant.

“I’m not quite sure there’s a specific thought I can tell you to have to make this happen,” Parr bit her lip. “Every witch has different preferred methods to do this regularly.”

“It is possible though,” Aragon jumped in, “to do this without any magical aids. It has to do with your energy mostly. I’ve never met a witch with dark energy who could perform vitalum vitalis. Intention is also important here because if you’re ambivalent about wanting the thing to live then it won’t work properly,” she offered hoping her advice was apt.

Katherine gave the pair a contemplative nod before glancing back at the plant. Parr and Aragon watched speculatively as the girl lay her hands against the soil and closed her eyes. Nothing happened for the first minute or so but as Katherine furrowed her brow a bit and seemed to let her fingers move into the soil, the wilting plant began to once again blossom. It’s browning leaves started to turn green once more and its shriveling stalk shot upright once more. Before their eyes, a plant which had been rotting at its precious roots sprung back to life vibrantly and flourished all in one moment.

When Katherine opened her eyes again, she couldn’t help but grin when she saw the drastic change in the plant’s appearance. She carefully took her hands out of the plants soil and admired her work, “Wow,” she finally mumbled to herself.

“Very well done!” Came Parr’s now enthusiastic tone as she herself approached the table to inspect the plant. “Not only did you revive it, now it seems to be thriving,” she added after grazing its leaves and stalk with her hands.

“I’m impressed,” Aragon complimented offering Katherine a smile. The brunette’s cheeks blushed a light pink at the praise from both Parr and the Supreme. “Healing definitely seems to be your strong suit. That’ll be our starting point aside from the basic wards,” she decided aloud.

“Do you want me to try to do anything else like pyrokinesis or divination?” Katherine asked, her eyes glimmering with a certain energy no one in the house had seen before. She didn’t complain about it to anyone other than Anne, but the Henry incident weighed her down.

She talked to Anne because Anne could relate to it in some ways. Katherine hadn’t felt safe leaving the house and when she thought about what happened too hard, her chest got tight and phantom pains sparked through the raised scar. Now, being able to succeed and be productive at a task helped Katherine feel a bit more normal and gave her drive to keep going.

“Not today I don’t think. It’s best not to push for things you haven’t been taught,” Aragon shook her head kindly.

“Can I start learning those wards from Jane then? I want to keep going while I have the energy,” Katherine insisted.

“I suppose I don’t see a problem with that as long as Jane isn’t busy, just don’t push yourself too hard,” the Supreme cautioned with a raised brow.

“If you want to find her, Jane usually hangs out up in the attic if you don’t see her any of the normal places. She’s set up some research up there,” Parr added.

“Great! Thank you! I guess I’ll see you later then?” Katherine raised her brow, not leaving before some sort of final confirmation from Aragon or Parr. Parr gave her an encouraging nod before Katherine turned on her heel to seek out the blonde.

Quickly, Katherine made her way toward the attic after checking the kitchen and Jane’s room, both of which were empty. She stopped her hand hovering over the doorknob and thought better of it, rapping gently on the door. Seconds later, a quiet voice floated through the door, “Come in.”

Katherine stepped into the attic only to be hit in the face with lukewarm air. The only ventilation came from an open window and fans Jane had plugged in. Regardless of ventilation or lack thereof, Jane had made herself at home in the relatively open space. A small table stood off to the side and on it were several stacks of books. Off to one side, Jane’s divination stones sat laid out in formation and several candles sat nearby. Jane glanced up from her spot at the table, pouring over a text, “Kat! What can I do for you?” Over the few days Katherine had been there, she’d taken to call her ‘Kat’ as she traditionally called Aragon ‘Catherine’ so having a nickname for Howard made sense in her mind.

“Can you teach me those protection spells?” Katherine asked stepping further into the attic. On a second thought, she turned back to shut the door once more, assuming Jane would want some privacy.

Jane flashed the girl a smile. She wondered when she'd have a visit from Katherine asking her just that, “Of course. Let me clean up some of my space here then we’ll get started. How’d your time with Cathy and Catherine go?” She continued, beginning to clear books off of the table.

“Uh, it went well, I think. I threw things way too forcefully though, with my mind of course and I was able to revive one of Parr’s plants that was dying,” she nodded. Her voice betrayed a hint of pride at her accomplishments, especially with the plant.

“That’s great, love. I’m proud,” Jane smiled. Katherine’s face lit up at the praise. She almost hated that she so noticeably fed off of the praise of others, but for so much of her life, she’d based her self-image on what others said or thought. From her first music teacher and his greedy hands, her first employers demands, to her family’s expectations. Now in the coven she found herself falling back into old habits. The difference was that this time she was in an environment where people built her up genuinely.

“Thank you. Aragon said that I could start learning more about healing after I learned all of the basic stuff you’re about to teach me. I’m excited for that,” she paused to observe Jane and scan the spines of the books she could see, “what are you working on in here?”

“Some research on tracking magic, and I’m working on some spells of my own, nothing largely important. Come stand over here beside me. We need to get started,” Jane instructed.

Once Katherine stood beside her, she began to speak again, “The two most quintessential spells you’ll need to learn are a face morphing spell and a cloaking spell. They do exactly as you think. The face morphing spell can change the appearance of your face and the cloaking spell can make you invisible to others around you. They only work in short periods of time though. The same effects can last longer if produced through a potion but it isn’t quite practical to carry around a potion all the time. Transmutation would also be helpful to have for possible use along with these spells, but we can focus on that later. First we’ll work on the face morphing spell,” she paused to see that the girl had registered everything, “shall we begin?”

Hours later, after dinner Catherine retreated to the greenhouse Anne helped an exhausted Katherine up to her room insisting, “You wore yourself out when you weren’t at your fullest!” Aragon glanced at the two witches left in the kitchen.

“We need to talk in private you two. Once the kitchen is clean meet me in my study. I’d offer to help but I have a lot of things to think over. And girls? This is council business so it stays with us for now,” she added. Cleves and Jane gave affirmations which satisfied Aragon.

As she headed back toward her study, she pulled her phone out of her pocket to see a text from Maria. Maria was one of the witches on the other side of London who were technically a part of her coven, but not living with them. The text read: ‘We found another one. Different field than Howard, same style. Beheaded. She’s been gone for what looks like about a week so it’s too late to bring her back.’

“Damn it,” Aragon cursed under her breath. She entered her study and sunk into the soft desk chair with a sigh before texting a response to Maria. Then, she opened a small notebook on the inner corner of her desk which was filled already with her sloping script. On the next blank page she added, ‘Unknown beheaded victim found, probably Henry. Check on missing persons records and attempt to identify who. Call Maria.’

Just as she closed the notebook, Jane and Anna slipped into the room. “Thank you for joining me so quickly,” Aragon commented with a nod in their direction.

“No problem. It’s our job. Now what’s up?” Anna asked, always one to get to the point in situations like these.

With a sigh, Aragon announced, “There’s been another kill, which wasn’t what I was going to address originally but now needs to be. We also need to discuss any progress we’ve had on learning more about Henry’s magics.”

Anna sat up straighter, “Another kill? When? Where?”

Aragon held a hand up, “Hold on. I was getting there. Maria just reported it to me. The girl was beheaded about a week ago. We don’t have an identification yet. If Maria or one of the others discovers something on that before we do, I’m sure she’ll let us know. In the meantime I can work on ID and we can move forward to getting the root of the problem taken care of.”

“Do we know if Maria and the other girls are still flying under the radar? Henry seems to be rooting every other witch in London out and trying to, or succeeding in killing them,” Jane pointed out.

“Seems like they are. I think they’re aware enough of the danger and were fortunate enough to avoid him before they were aware. We’d get word that they were compromised if they were and they’d come join us here,” Aragon nodded. “Moving on though, Jane has any of your tracking magic research provided anything yet? And Anna, have we made any headway with the identities of his other victims?”

Jane spoke first, “I’m doing my best, but as you know, tracking the magical signature is much more complex that tracking an object or person. It’s not like I can traditionally divine a magical signature and place it locationally or its owner. I do have a couple spells in the works though. If they work out the next step would be getting someone in contact with Henry again long enough to cast one of the spells so we can find the origin of the magic.”

Anna spoke next, “I’ve only been able to identify three. They all came from central London though and they were young. Katherine’s age or younger.”

Aragon and Jane both visibly cringed at hearing Henry had been killing off those so young. “How young was the youngest?” Jane hesitantly asked.

“As far as I can tell, sixteen. It’s fucked, I know,” she added, shaking her head.

“That it may be, but that just gives us more motivation to deal with him right?” Aragon supplied attempting to move on from the uncomfortable and just downright depressing fact of the ages of Henry’s victims. Dwelling on it wouldn’t help, not when they could be productive about the issue, or at least attempt to be.

Jane and Anna gave nods in response before Catherine continued speaking, “Jane, how’d Katherine do today learning everything? It was clear over dinner she’d drained herself.”

“She picked up the spells well actually. She seems to have a natural ability for magic. My only worry is that in a fight she wouldn’t stop when she was drained even if someone could cover her, or that in practicing she’ll run herself into the ground. She’s reckless in that way,” Jane reported.

“Maybe next time she wants to learn something, we could work on control and pacing?” Anna suggested. “I think, and I could be wrong, that she’s throwing herself into this so hard because she wants to be useful. If we worked with her on control then perhaps we could implicitly say that she’s better off learning at a less rapid pace because that means she’s not running herself dead.”

Aragon contemplated the idea in her mind staying silent for a moment, “I think that’s a good idea. Anna, since it was your idea, can you be in charge of that? You’re also not strong in healing magic so learning from you she won’t feel like she could be learning about healing.”

The German shrugged, “On it.”

Aragon nodded in approval, “Lovely. Jane keep working on the spells and we’ll go from there. As I said before, I’ll keep you all updated on the situation with his victims. I think that’s all for this meeting, ladies,” she dismissed the other two with a small smile. Jane stood first, explaining she wanted to work on her research and Anna excused herself then, saying she had something to do.

Jane’s common sense told her she needed to sleep and check on Eddie about three hours of hitting dead ends in her work. On her way back to her own room from the attic, Jane couldn’t help but to peak into Katherine’s door when she noticed it open. Her original intention was to simply close the door, but when she caught sight of Katherine writhing on the bed, something pulled at her heartstrings and she slipped into the room. “Kat?” She addressed the girl attempting to shake her from her fitful sleep.

A hyper aware Katherine bolted up in bed moments later, clutching at her neck and panting. It took her brain several seconds to process her surroundings and her elevated heart rate pounding in her ears along with the unmistakable feeling of anxiety boiling in the pit of her stomach. It was only when she noticed Jane sitting at the edge of the bed and realized her hands were still wrapped around her own throat that she put the pieces together. Her nightmare had somehow gotten someone else’s attention. She glanced at the clock on the table to see it was about 1:00. “Sorry to have woken you,” she apologized in between breaths, immediately assuming she’d woken the blonde.

Jane tilted her head, “You didn’t wake me, sweetheart. I was up working and walking back to my room. Your door was open and I was going to close it for you, then I saw you flinching and jerking in your sleep, figured I’d wake you before it got any worse,” she said kindly.

Katherine nodded pushing back the covers damp with sweat. She blinked her wide eyes a few times still trying to chase off intrusive images and thoughts from her dream of her death. “Thank you-” she stopped, realizing she’d been about to unload all of her dream onto Jane. Something in the blonde made Katherine want to trust her, even if she’d only known her for a short period of time. That feeling frightened Katherine, when she'd carelessly extended trust un the past she got burned.

“You can talk about it if you want,” Jane hummed sensing wariness amongst the tide of anxiety running through Katherine. “You don’t have to, but I’m happy to listen.”

The room fell silent for a short period of time with Jane waiting patiently and Katherine weighing her options. She could trust Jane who radiated warmth and talk about it which could help set her at ease or she could decline and try to sleep again and risk falling back into a nightmare.The latter of the two options definately sounded least appealing. In a hasty moment, she decided to trust Jane. “It was the first time I’ve dreamed since it happened,” Katherine finally started, anxiously picking at a piece of loose skin on one of her nails.

Jane gave an encouraging nod and in some instinct of comfort, she reached out put a hand on Katherine’s wrist to give it a squeeze. “When he- my death kept playing on a loop and I couldn’t stop it, no matter what I tried and I could almost feel the pain again. I could feel him dragging me and crushing my knee, the whole bit, even up to the ax-” she stopped to try and force a deep breath as during her explanation her sentences and breaths started to come in rapid succession.

“It’s okay, you’re here. I’ve got you,” Jane reminded her quietly. Instead of verbally responding, Katherine took hold of Jane’s hand which had fallen nearby after it had squeezed her wrist. At the physical contact, Jane could even more intensely feel the fear coursing through Katherine at recounting her death. After several minutes of silence, the fear and anxiety subsided to a dull hum replaced by a hazing exhaustion. Once Jane registered this transition, Katherine released a shaky sigh. “There you go. That’s good,” Jane praised.

“Can I- I really kind of want a hug. I’d ask Anne if I thought she were awake, and you don��t have to of course,” Katherine responded her eyes darting up to look at the blonde for a fleeting second.

“Of course,” Jane nodded without hesitation, gently freeing her hand from Katherine’s, so she could open her arms to the girl. In a matter of seconds, Katherine wrapped her arms around Jane tightly, revelling in the physical comfort. The blonde allowed Katherine a hug as long as she needed, and simply took to running a hand through long pink ended locks.

Finally Katherine pulled away from the hug, visibly looking a bit more at ease, “Thank you, that really did make me feel better,” she mumbled looking down at her lap again.

“Anytime, really,” Jane replied with a dismissive shake of her head.

Katherine’s eyes widened for a moment, “You mean that?” she asked wondering why a woman she’d known for about a week cared about her already.

“I do, I promise,” she assured giving one of Katherine’s hands a squeeze.

“Thank you, again. It really means a lot,” the girl said giving Jane a small smile, though she was unsure how clearly Jane could make it out in the dark. “I think I’m gonna try and sleep again,” she decided aloud next.

Jane nodded, “Like I said, anytime. If you can’t sleep, Cathy is usually up late, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind a bit of quiet company.” She would’ve told Katherine she could come fine her, but she didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Katherine said softly as Jane stood to make her way out. “Goodnight,” Katherine added as Jane was halfway out the door.

“Goodnight,” the blonde replied slipping away with a small smile on her face. Any reservations she’d had about bringing Katherine into the coven (due to security reasons) had nearly completely dissipated at this point. Not only did Howard have the potential to be a powerful witch, but she was also a kind soul.

That night, Katherine Howard was not the only soul unable to sleep. The Supreme rolled around in her bed, mind whirring at a dizzying rate. With a huff, she pushed her blankets back. If sleeping was a futile endeavor then perhaps she could be productive. A quick glance at the clock told her it was two in the morning, so Aragon padded her way down to the greenhouse, where Catherine Parr sat hunched over her laptop.

“Catherine,” Aragon called as she stepped into the dimly lit room, save for the lamp on Parr’s desk. The curly headed woman glanced up, her eyes wide and eyebrows raised until she saw it was only her godmother.

“Oh hey,” she finally greeted back, turning to face Aragon fully. “Why’re you up so late?” she asked curiously. Normally she and Jane were the last two to sleep.

“I could ask you the same question,” Aragon mused with a small smile. “But I also know it’s useless to try and get you to sleep earlier so it’d be pointless. For the record, I couldn’t sleep.”

Parr rolled her eyes goodnaturedly, unable to keep a small smile of her own from forming on her face. “I’m up researching what you asked me to, remember?” She said her voice carrying a ghost of jest. “Is there anything in particular keeping you up though?” She asked sobering back up.

“Just the situation I guess. There’s been some disturbing developments and I fear we’re running out of time,” she replied leaning against the doorframe. “Out of time for what? Some sort of confrontation?”

“I suppose. I just have a gut feeling, and I don’t like it. I hope I’m wrong,” Aragon added after a short pause. “I shouldn’t let this get out because it is council business, but someone else is dead. We have to figure something out, We’re dying and even if we six and the girls across the city survive, that’s not helping our kind survive. Jane’s progress with tracking magic is coming slowly and it doesn’t need to be.”

“I won’t press for more details on the new victim, but I agree, something needs to be done. Speaking of which, I may have found something. You asked me to try and figure out who was employing him and where he came from and such. Well, I did some digging to learn that’s from the UK but he’s been in other countries pulling similar shit. He’s been in Spain, France and Germany. There the murders were reported and documented though no one was ever convicted. It’s the exact same MO if you will: beheading in a rural area in one fell swoop. Plus the victims were consistently young women.”

“As for his associates, I’m coming up blank. I”ve even corresponded with the American supreme and she’s never experienced anything like him. She said they shut down the main company for hunters. My best guess is that it’s a family thing or he’s working in a micro group, which is smart. They leave less of a trace,” Parr finished.

Aragon knit her brows at this new information. This man had to be incredibly careful or have some sort of magic protection that helped him not get caught. It seemed like a Henry move. If he used wards to detect a witch’s power and protect himself, then it wasn’t a far stretch to wonder if he would use them to cover his crimes.

“You should tell the council. Maybe this would help,” Parr pressed in the silence that fell as Aragon’s thoughts whirled.

“No. That’s not a good idea. I don’t want to worry them any more, and truthfully? The less people who know this, the safer we are. We still don’t know who’s protecting him and if he knows we’re figuring out a pattern in anyway then he’ll move faster and we can’t,” Aragon shook her head.

Parr’s eyes widened, “Are you insinuating what I think you are? Do you think his aid is one of us?” She couldn’t help the prying tone that left her lips as the shock of the implications in Aragon’s statement hit her.

“I- I don’t think so, but you can never be too careful who you trust and we don’t know what he’s capable of. I’m not going to lose anyone else, at least not those directly under my protection,” the Supreme said with a firm nod, covering her falter toward the beginning of her sentence. This was her coven, and she was hellbent on protecting it, even if that meant withholding information or not blindly trusting everyone.

#catherine parr #catherine of aragon #katherine howard #anne boleyn #jane seymour #anne of cleves #six the musical

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westallenfun · 5 years

Text

Before the Hood - 1/6

For @jade4813 from @backtothestart02 -I’m not going to lie. This gets pretty angsty pretty quickly and ends on a bittersweet note. But it’s meant to be the prequel to my Robin Hood westallen AU that I plan to write eventually (yes, this is a Robin Hood AU, you got me), and that fic will end very happily, so if you’d like, you can consider that your fic too. I hope you’re able to enjoy this fic though!

I so appreciate you as a person and a shipper and a writer. I am always so inspired by you and your talent and appreciate so much how kind you are. So I was unbelievably excited when I received your name as my giftee (you write such incredible AUs!). Hopefully you will enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it and be hopeful about what comes after instead of in a puddle of tears. I hope I can do your masterpieces some justice and that you have an amazing Christmas and holiday season!!

Merry Christmas!

…

(All of these chapters have been lightly proofread, so feel free to do a re-read once I post them to AO3 & FFnet, b/c I’m sure they’ll be in much better condition then.)

Fun Fact: I did some medieval research for this story that I did try to incorporate. (1) People were not meant to be educated unless they were upperclass/royalty/clergymen. (2) Women were rarely educated period, unless upperclass and then very little. They were expected to marry and raise children. (3) The Crusades and everything according to the Robin Hood legend that I googled I tried to incorporate to some degree, since I did keep the story set in the Middle Ages. (There’s prob more, but I can’t think of what at the moment.)

…

Chapter 1 -

Collin Woods.

A place thick with trees, alive with wildlife, and far from any central city on the map, two hundred miles away from the literal Central City. Within the woods contained the small town of the same name, the only structure cresting above the trees being the stone castle of the royals. Previously residing there was King Richard – a loyal, good king who took care of his people and flourished the town with bountiful riches and a thriving population. But within the past several months he had left the town and its people to embark on the noble quest of fighting in the Crusades. In his place, he left his younger brother, Prince John, a selfish, spoiled, adolescent fool who little by little drained the small town of its resources until the only thing rich and satisfying to the eye could be found within the castle grounds.

Many of the young men of the town had gone off to fight in the Crusades with their King. Not all could go, because work needed to be done that could not only be sustained by older men, women, and children. But some left not only for the cause itself but to escape the death trap that had become their once thriving homeland. War with all its drudgery, pain, and rate of death on the battlefield was still a welcome reprieve. To those that survived, they only hoped their king would return with them and so sustain the lands they used to call home and create a small paradise once again for themselves and those they loved.

Beside Prince John was his wise and yet often taken for granted advisor, Sir Hiss – not his actual name of course, but his natural born lisp that often affected his speech had granted him the title. The superficial prince did nothing to correct it. Since he relished as well as mocked his only true friend – if he could be called that – the name suited him in the latter case. Trained guards were at Prince John’s disposal, as well as the particularly greedy Sheriff of Collin Woods, Clifford Devoe.

Amongst the townspeople was the West family, but with the father, Joseph, and the son, Wallace, off to fight in the Crusades, and the mother, Francine, passed many years ago, the daughter, Maid Iris, was ordered by Prince John to live under the care of Sheriff DeVoe and his wife, Marlise. Iris was rarely seen after that, except for at festivals hosted by Prince John. And by one other, who she risked everything to see night after night by moonlight, hidden amongst the trees lining Silver Lake.

Barry Allen.

Bartholomew was his given name, but hardly rolling off the tongue, his best friend, Cisco – who’d also shortened his name – decided on a nick name for the young Allen. To those around him, it had stuck.

Barry was the only child of Henry and Nora Allen. The former was the only doctor in the town. He had taken a young pupil under his wing, a girl – which was most unheard of, Caitlin Snow. He’d tried to lure his son into the teachings of medicine. There were few things greater than the ability to heal, he would say. But young Barry would have none of it. And being a friend of Caitlin himself, Barry encouraged the union. There should be more than two doctors in one town, should one fall ill, heaven forbid. But it wasn’t going to be him. Most of the time when he wasn’t home, he traveled into town to offer his skills – that of repairing homes and entertaining children – as proof of his servitude. His mother, Nora, who was a seamstress to nearly everyone found this to be a great addition to the work force. And since she needed to do little to win over her husband, most of the time he relented.

But Barry didn’t spend all of his time tending to the needs of the townsfolk. His favorite pastimes were narrowed down to three: fishing with his best friend, Cisco, practicing archery from his handmade bow and arrows, and visiting Maid Iris by moonlight.

One late afternoon in June, finished with his tasks for today, Barry idly leaned against a tree and carved himself some new arrows, preparing to get some practice in. For the Crusades he would tell his father if the subject ever arose. But it hadn’t yet. Only his friends knew of his hobby, and it was kept amongst them. It was no secret Barry didn’t want to go to war.

“Hey!”

The disgruntled voice pulled Barry out of his reverie, and he saw an unamused Cisco standing inches beneath where his arrow had landed, a hole piercing his new hat as it stay pinned against the tree behind him.

Barry had the decency to blush.

“Sorry, Cisco.”

Cisco carefully pulled the arrow free and his hat with it and placed it back on his head.

“Watch it. My mother made that.”

Cisco’s mother was not the greatest seamstress – as was evidenced by the seams falling apart of the hats she made for her son, even without arrows being shot through them. But his parents looked down upon the Allen’s for Henry’s audacity to train a young girl in medicine, to educate a peasant girl whose duty it was to marry and raise children, not attempt to heal people. And also, because Barry’s parents were not stricter with him. As a result, they forbid their son from being friends with Barry – an order he ignored fervently.

“My mother could make you a new one,” Barry offered, not for the first time, as he turned his full attention to his friend.

Cisco snorted. “My mother would know. She knows she can’t sew. It has never been her talent. And if she saw how neatly the seams were sewn, she’d know where I had been.”

Barry nodded. He knew. He just couldn’t help but offer.

“Did you see Caitlin today?” Cisco asked casually, leaning against the tree beside Barry.

Barry shook his head. “I left early this morning. Ralph was off with Sue again, so he wasn’t around to watch his younger brothers and sisters. I offered my services.”

Cisco’s lips turned up in a smirk. “Of course you did.”

“It is my contribution,” Barry said, picking up another arrow and shaving down the sides so it would fly more smoothly.

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

He shrugged.

“Maybe you’re just jealous Ralph can spend time with Sue in broad daylight when you have to sneak around with Iris by moonlight.”

Barry froze, his eyes wide as he turned to look at his friend.

“What? You thought I didn’t know?”

Barry turned his body fully.

“I’m your best friend,” Cisco said, offended.

“You’re not- You didn’t- Does anyone else-”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course no one else knows. At least not because of me. I won’t tell a soul.” He paused. “At least not until you do.”

Barry snorted and returned to his arrows.

“I’ll never be able to do that,” he muttered under his breath.

“You never know,” Cisco said, softening.

Barry picked up his bow and arrow and aimed for a farther tree.

“As long as King Richard is fighting in the Crusades and Iris is cooped up with that awful Sheriff DeVoe, there’s no way we can be together openly. She’ll probably marry that awful knight Julian,” Barry said, scowling.

“I thought he’s planning to leave for the Crusades,” Cisco said, his brows fusing together.

“Not before obtaining a marriage proposal, I bet.”

“And why would the Sheriff say yes to him? He gains too much by keeping Iris locked up. He feeds off her inheritance.”

Barry lowered his bow. “Because Julian is a knight, and his father is in Prince John’s royal guard. He probably thinks Julian won’t return from the Crusades and he won’t have to worry about it.”

“But if he does return…”

“He’ll have to own up to the promise. And Maid Iris will have no choice in the matter.”

Cisco shoulders slumped, and then he gathered himself together, determined to let them not both be burdened down by this possibility.

“It might not happen,” he offered. “Julian’s thirst for war might overcome his desire for Iris.”

Barry looked at him. “It does.”

Cisco’s brows furrowed again.

“Julian wants her because I have her. It’s his petty jealousy for everything I have that is greater than his thirst for war. All the medals and glory in the world would mean nothing to him if they didn’t also crush me into the ground in the process.”

He shot off another arrow, this one recklessly into the air at a distance. Someone could trace it, find him, discover his hobby and somehow use it against him. But he didn’t care. Few things stifled his hatred for Julian Albert, son of the guard, knight in training, who gloated about all that he would receive on his return from the Crusades. More than once Barry had wanted to retort bitterly, ‘If you return.’ But he’d held his breath. He wouldn’t sink to his level.

“And what do you have that he doesn’t?” Cisco asked, though he knew at least some of what his answer would be.

“Both parents, friends, the right to choose what I want to do, and a father who is willing to bend the rules for the sake of the people.”

“And the love of Iris,” Cisco added, which made Barry’s anger finally fizzle out.

“Yes. And that.”

…

In the quiet cottage just off the edge of town, Nora Allen sat in her rocking chair and picking up a new color of yarn to add to her nearest quilt. She hummed quietly to herself, a melody to harmonize with the blue birds chirping outside the window. The sun shone through it, warming her face, and with the scent of biscuits wafting out of the oven, she knew dinner would soon be at hand. The chicken was ready, and the corn. With the prepared food would come her husband, her son, and the young girl Henry had taken under his wing, Caitlin Snow.

Caitlin was a quiet one. With long brown locks and the same purple, cotton dress she wore day after day, only changing the ribbons in her hair on occasion, Nora had taken to mothering her. She’d never had a daughter, and there was much about Caitlin that appealed to her. From her determination to chase after her dreams to her polite refusal of anything that might inconvenience anyone, Nora welcomed having her in their home and at their table. A few times she had studied her son’s interactions with her to see if there was any spark. She certainly wouldn’t mind having Caitlin officially part of their family.

But Caitlin, it seemed, was in love with a slightly older boy, Ronnie Raymond, who had gone off to fight in the Crusades. And Nora’s boy, Barry, she had begun to suspect, still fancied Maid Iris.

It was a star-crossed romance she’d hoped her son could avoid. Not because she held anything against Iris or her family, but because it would be nearly impossible for them to find happiness together in a practical sense with Iris being elevated in her father’s and brother’s absence. In addition, she knew the feelings had not been one-sided before Joseph and Wallace had left for Crusades. That made the young romance even more devastating.

But Iris lived with Sheriff DeVoe now, who was snide and arrogant and in line with that terrible Prince John who was constantly raising the taxes. She hoped Marlise DeVoe, who while loyal to her husband, didn’t appreciate his tactics, had taken Iris under her wing and protected her. Heaven only knows what kind of atmosphere existed in that house if she hadn’t.

With Prince John’s almost constant raising of taxes – and demand in paying them being more frequent – Nora worried that soon Henry would allow appointments without pay. He tried to be firm and decisive on the outside, but on the inside his love for her and his son and the townspeople had turned him to mush. After all, once Barry had made it clear he would not be following in his footsteps, Henry had sought out a pupil and had no qualms whatsoever about taking on Caitlin Snow.

The sound of the heavy wooden door being opened interrupted her thoughts, and the sound of her husband’s warm voice made the sadness of her thoughts all but disappear.

“Something smells good,” Henry said, walking through the door. “You smell that, Caitlin?” The young girl nodded beside him. “It smells wonderful.”

Nora smiled to herself, set aside her tools and yarn and walked into the entryway adjoining the kitchen.

“You’re home,” she said, to which her husband crossed the distance between them and placed a kiss on her cheek. “It smells so good.” He pulled back. “Is it biscuits?”

She nodded. “Yes. And chicken and potatoes.”

Caitlin’s eyes lit up. “You have potatoes?”

“Yes. And I’m going to mash them. Would you like to help?”

Caitlin nearly bounced up on her toes. It never ceased to amazing Nora how this girl could go from being shy to eager and excited when new opportunities presented themselves. She wondered what that meant about her home life but decided not to think on it.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she chuckled. “Come on.” She nodded her head towards the hot pot over the fire and grabbed some pot warmers so as not to burn herself. “Grab a bowl from the bottom shelf. We’ll put them in there first.”

Caitlin did as she was told and used the large spoon to transfer the vegetable. Nora looked over her shoulder at her husband as she did so.

“Have you seen Barry today?”

“Not this morning,” he said on a sigh. “But the Dibny’s informed me he spent all morning with their rambunctious children, so he must’ve done some good today.”

“Henry.” Her voice lowered, and he reined himself in.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s a good thing what he’s doing. It’s better than just lying around this place all day. I’m glad he’s getting work in and that he’ll help out with the harvest in the fall.”

“Oh!” Caitlin interjected, spying the individual in question walking passed the distant window. “I think I see him.”

Moments later, the door opened and Barry walked in, a basket of freshly pulled carrots in his arms.

“Carrots,” Caitlin said, awe-struck by yet another delicious food being added to the menu.

“What a brilliant idea, Barry. Thank you for thinking of it,” his mother said.

He forced a smile that matched his father’s until Henry felt the glare his wife was delivering to the back of his head.

“I thought it might…add something,” Barry added lamely, avoiding his father’s gaze.

“I talked to the Dibny’s earlier today,” Henry said, pushing bitter feelings behind him for the sake of the meal and the company. “It sounds like you were very helpful to them this morning.”

Barry looked at him, then glanced at his mother and Caitlin and knew he had to do something to release the tension.

“Well, someone had to be, what with Ralph running off with Sue just as his brothers and sisters were waking up.”

Henry softened, a proud smile gracing his features.

“I’m glad you stepped up, son.” He gripped his shoulder. “It’s good to know what’s important in life and not go running after a lass before you’ve found your place.”

He glanced over at Caitlin.

“Nothing against you, of course, Caitlin.”

She grinned sardonically.

“Of course not. I’m special.”

Barry shook his head at the comment, but it had the whole family laughing, and so the tension was broken.

…

Night descended over Collin Woods about an hour after dinner. Caitlin had returned home, promising to meet Henry at his clinic the next day as early as she could. He promised to bring food with him and Nora insisted she come home with Henry for dinner again. Caitlin was reluctant to make that promise, so she just smiled as a goodbye and waved her hand on the way out. Barry watched her from the front window and thought about the impact she made on their home. He was glad to have her in his life, and glad even more so that she’d provided an escape for him from his father’s profession. But he worried some about her home life. Whenever he saw her about in town, there was no light in her eyes. She looked sullen, almost like a young child. And he saw the tight grip her mother always had on her even though she was three years into adulthood at age fifteen. It just made him more aware of the destruction Prince John had brought upon their little town.

Barry lay in bed until he could hear his parents’ snores drifting down the hall. Deeming it safe to slip out, he pushed open his window and carefully climbed over the ledge to the other side. He closed it after he’d landed in the grass, keeping it open a crack so he wouldn’t have difficulty going in, and then slinked away from his home, taking off as fast as one of his arrows as soon as he’d reached the cluster of trees thickening like a swarm of flies on the way to Central Pond.

He got to the edge of the water, looked up and saw some hazy clouds crossing over the moon. He worried for a moment that she wouldn’t come. They had always said that if it was a cloudy night, maybe it was a sign they shouldn’t meet up that night, that there was somehow a better likelihood of them being caught, even if logically that didn’t make sense. They should be harder to see with no grand moonlight making figures known amongst the trees.

But he didn’t have to worry long. Because mere moments later, a tap came on his shoulder, and he nearly fell into the water because of it.

“Barry!” she quietly shrieked, pulling him back by the fabric of his shirt, and then dissolving into a fit of giggles when she did. Putting a hand over her mouth, she tried to compose herself. “I’m sorry.”

He was flushed, breathing heavily for a few moments, but then a silly grin stretched across his face.

“No apology needed,” he said, then took her hand and led her away from the water into the woods. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

“So was I,” she said. “The clouds were so much thicker from my bedroom window.” She came to a stop and held both of her hands in his, swinging a little on the balls of her feet. “But I thought I’d make a try for it. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

In truth it had been two days, and the only reason they hadn’t met up was because of storms, rain that poured hard and for hours. But it still felt like an eternity. Every moment apart felt like a lifetime.

“I know,” he said, intertwining their fingers together. “It’s been forever.”

He couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled on her hands with his own, instantly bringing her closer, and met her lips with a sudden kiss. She melted into it, and so did he. His arms moved to settle on her waist as hers wrapped around his neck. And for a while they stood there in the filtered moonlight, just ignoring the world around them.

“Oh, Barry,” she murmured, eventually pulling back enough to lay her head on his chest. He swayed them gently. “I wish it could be like this forever.”

He rested his cheek on the top of her head and shut his eyes, listening to the sway of her long dress in the night breeze.

“So do I.”

“I dream at night about us, you know.”

He smiled to himself. “You do?”

“Well, don’t you?” She lifted her head to look up at him.

“Of course, Iris. I dream about you even when I’m not sleeping. I almost shot Cisco with an arrow today because I was so distracted dreaming of you.”

Her eyes sparkled. “You wouldn’t have hit him.”

“I don’t know…I was pretty distracted.”

“You never miss,” she said. “Not even when you’re distracted.”

“I might’ve made an exception for Julian,” he joked lightly.

She smirked. “I might’ve let you.”

He didn’t know if her not liking Julian any more than he did made their situation even more tragic, but he decided he liked it. Better the knight not be his competition when it came to Iris’ heart. In any other way, he could deal, even if he didn’t want to, but if he was unsure about where her heart lie, he was sure he would die.

“Come on,” he said, stepping back enough to just hold her hand. “I want to show you something.”

Iris bit her bottom lip and ran with him through the woods until they came to a large tree. She stopped before he did and looked up at the spectacle before them.

“It’s amazing,” she said, awestruck.

“It’s old,” he responded. “And probably shouldn’t be climbed on.” He bent down to pick something off the grass just around the old oak. “But it’s unlike any other tree in the whole forest, and I think we should make it our own.”

He came back to her and handed her a rock, sharp and narrow at the end. She looked at it strangely and met his eyes with a quizzical expression.

“What are you thinking, Barry?”

He grinned and pulled her to the large, oak tree. Then she watched as he used his own rock to painstakingly carve his initials into the wood. He made a small cross beneath it and stepped back. He glanced at her when she didn’t move.

“Your turn,” he said.

Excitedly, though she tried to contain herself, Iris stepped forward and carved her own initials in. Then, without any prodding, she drew a large heart around their letters and stepped back, looking at their masterpiece proudly.

“I love you, Iris,” he said, softly, and she turned to find him staring at her, so much love in his eyes. She didn’t doubt his declaration for a second.

“I love you, too, Barry,” she returned, taking both his hands in hers as they’d been before.

“I don’t know how long we can be like this,” he admitted. “But I’m going to treasure every moment.” He brought their clasped hands to his heart and held them there. “You’re my home, Iris. And that’s one thing that will never change.”

Her heart aflutter, and all words fallen away from her memory, she smiled softly in response. Then she tilted her face up, closed her eyes, and waited for him to kiss her.

#the flash #westallen secret santa #westallen #barry allen #iris westallen #iris west #backtothestart02 #fanfic #fanfiction #the flash fanfiction #submission

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