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disasterofastory · 3 years

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Newlyweds Part 1 (Uhtred x Reader

Newlyweds Part 1 Uhtred x Reader Warnings: none

Y/N is married to the Dane slayer, and she needs to find her place in her new life.

You heard about him from villagers and warriors. They said Father Beocca baptized him, but the water started boiling, and the God rejected him and his false faith. The servants told you he is tall and muscled. Some of them gushed about his handsome face and long hair, while the others spoke about his monstrous form and savage behavior. People whispered about his heathen way of fighting. He breaks skulls and burns villages without a second thought. He slays Danes, but his soul belongs to them.

You heard about your fate before you met him. The King told you about your duty as a noble man’s daughter. He made sure you understand your role as a link to strengthen the relationship between the Christians and the Dane slayer. You have to make sure if it comes to that point, he choices you, and more importantly, God before his false ways. After your talk with the King, your shoulders felt heavy and rigid. How could you manipulate a monster? How could you live with one?

The wedding was small and fast. Nobody cared about your dreams and wants. They gave you a pretty dress to say your vows beside the man who became your husband in half an hour. Your hands trembled, and your stomach was in knots, hearing his voice and feeling his gaze on you. You didn’t even dare to look up at him more than a moment, and it was not enough to see his face. You only saw his smile, and it didn’t calm your nerves. As the priest talked about God and union, you wanted to dig a hole under you to hide from the man next to you and from everyone else. Everybody waited for something from you, but you couldn’t do anything from your racing heart and pumping blood in your veins.

When the ceremony was over, nobody asked you what you wished. The servants helped you change your clothes and made sure you are ready for the journey ahead of you. The Dane slayer wanted to go home sooner, the better. You were happy about it for a little while because it gave you the chance to put off your wedding night until you heard servants talking about him and his way with you in front of his men. You needed all of your strength not to vomit all over your clothes. The only thing that reassured you is Father Beocca’s company. You wanted to believe with all the fibers in your body, that Uhtred wouldn't do anything to you in front of a priest.

Your Dane husband gave you a brown stallion as a gift you can use on your journey. The horse is beautiful and calm as you pet down on his muscled neck. He muzzles your palm for more apples, and you give him one more as Uhtred’s man saddles him. You use the horse as a shield from the tall, interesting accented man. “He is ready, Lady,” he tells you, smiling. “Are you need help?” He asks, nodding to the saddle. “No, thank you,” you answer, grabbing the reins to give you some support as you place one of your legs into the stirrup. With a big bounce, you hop on the saddle while the horse still munches on the apple you gave him. You lead the horse out of the barn next to the priest. His hoofs knock on the stony road, and your bags pumps to your calf. “Are you ready, Lady?” Father Beocca asks you with a gentle smile. “As I can be,” you answer with a deep breath. You look over to your parents. Your father is proud. He couldn’t imagine a more honorable thing for you to do than serve your King and your God. Your mother, on the other hand, seems worried. Her eyes are reddish, and she tries to force a smile on her lips, but you know the way things go. You saw it millions of times with other families. She will be worried for a few days, but soon she will be too busy to think about you besides your younger siblings. She has her own duties, and you can’t blame her. Your gaze jumps up to your husband, who stops his horse next to you. Your fingers around the reins become more interesting. You let your hair fall before your face to hide you from his curious stare. “If everything is ready, we can go,” he says loud and clear so everyone can hear him. He rides forward to lead the way while Father Beocca stays next to you on his horse. Soon the two men, the Dane and the Irishman join the line before you. The horse rocks you slowly as you move along with them. “Everything will be fine, Lady,” Osferth says to you with a gentle smile when you look back to see the slowly disappearing city behind the woods. You smile back at him, but the corner of your lips trembles, and you turn back to your saddle. You focus on the quiet noises as the horses’ hooves walk on the path and birds sing between the branches. You hear the three men speaking before you, but you don’t listen to their words. The only way you know the time goes because the sun shines in different ankles above the trees. Your legs become numb, but you say nothing. The only thing you need is them thinking you are nothing just a spoiled girl. If they want to reach Coccham with one ride, so be it. You won’t be the one who stops them.

Of course, it’s not the case.

When you get out of the forest, the sun is orange, and the air is colder than a few hours before. “We will sleep here,” Uhtred says, getting off of the horse, and the others follow his movements. You only can hope your legs don’t give up under you as you jump onto the ground. You adjust the reins on your horse to lead it. You tie it on a branch, looking up to the Irishman who is busy with the others’ horses. “I take care of them,” you tell him. “I’m sure you have other things to do.” “It’s not necessary, Lady,” he smiles at your offer, but you are too stubborn to give up. You don’t want to sit and do nothing while the others are busy making camp for the night. “I insist,” you answer. “I want to be useful.” “You know where the river is?” He asks you, still not sure about your offer. “Yes, I saw it,” you nod, and after a few moments, he smiles, giving you buckets. You are grateful the river is a few steps away behind the trees, seeing the three buckets. You make fast rounds with them and feed the horses. When you think they are done, you make one more round to fill the buckets, so they have water for a while before somebody comes to check on them. “You shouldn’t have done it,” Uhtred says behind you, and you jump from his voice. “What?” You ask him, starting to think over everything you have done. “The horses,” he says, smiling. “Finan is capable of taking care of them.” “As I am,” you answer stubbornly. “Come, eat,” he smiles, nodding to the camp where the others already sit and wait for the food. The short walk to the campfire is awkward. You feel Uhtred's gaze on you the whole time, but he stays silent, and you don’t want to change it. When you reach the others, you sit down next to the priest who gives you a bowl of soup. “Thank you,” you smile at him.

Uhtred wants to be careful and gentle around you. He knows it was not your choice, and you still think of him as a monster. A man who kills Danes while he is a Dane himself. He glanced at you from time to time during their travels. You were deep in your thoughts, but he caught a glimpse of your smile when you answered Father Beocca. Your voice was quiet, and your whole body was rigid on the horse, but he saw the anger and stubbornness in your eyes. He wanted to talk to you, get to know you better before you arrive at your new home, but he found it better if he gave you the chance to feel more comfortable at Beocca’s company.

“She wanted to take care of the horses,” Finan answers at his unspoken question. He looks over the Irishman’s shoulder, seeing you with buckets. Your face is focused on putting water in front of the animals and giving some fruits to others. “She is… nice?” Sihtric says uncertainly. He knows his Lord was unhappy about the King’s decision, but he knows his Lord can be convinced with a pretty face. And you are pretty. Timid for now, but definitely pretty. He has a chance to talk to you a few words before you join the others around the fire, but as you reach them, you escape from his presence. He sits down in front of you with a slight smirk when you look up from your soup, and your gazes meet. The light from the fire illuminates your features. Your eyelashes seem longer, and your lips are red from the warm soup. Your braided hair is messy after the long riding and your cheeks tinted with pink from his staring. He talks with his men, but he can’t help himself but listen to your conversation with the Baby Monk. Your voice is gentle, and you even let a small laugh out of your lips when Beocca says something. “Who is the first watch?” Uhtred asks after a while. He looks over to his men, and he sees the tiredness in their eyes. “I can do it,” you answer, surprising everyone. “We need warrior,” Uhtred answers with a smirk, and it makes you angry. “I can scream,” you answer, holding his gaze. He thinks you want to prove yourself, and he isn’t totally wrong about it, but your motivation more of self-defense. If you stay awake, and he goes to sleep, you don’t have to face him whatever he wants. “Wake me up, if you are too tired,” Uhtred tells you, and you nod.

The camp becomes quiet as the others turn on their sides to get some sleep. Finan starts to snore, but it’s not enough to suppress the noises from the woods. The air is cold around you, but the fire behind you gives you some warmth as you lean back to your arms, looking out of the darkness. Uhtred doesn’t seem so horrible. At least not yet. He is fair with his men, and aside from the jokes, respectful with Beocca. You two didn’t talk much, but he wasn’t rude to you. Of course, it can change. You don’t know how he will act without the others around you, but for now, you can only hope. The hours go by without you noticing. Your back hurts from sitting, and you could sleep, but… let’s be honest, you don’t dare to wake up the man lay not far from you. You stared at him a few times since he fell asleep. His brown hair is really long, as the others said but doesn’t look like a monster. He is tall and robust. He wears Dane clothes, but there is something boyish in his eyes when he says something outrageous, and he knows he will upset Beocca with it. He stirs under your watch, and your gaze jumps back to the dark forest. “You should have woken me up,” he croaks sleepily, moving up from his makeshift bed. “I’m fine,” you tell him. Your heartbeat speeds up, and your body becomes rigid as he sits down next to you. “Go to sleep,” he says. He thought about saying something else, he could talk with you now, but he sees your sleepy expression. “I can stay awake if you are too tired,” you offer him. “No,” he replies. “Go to my bed,” he orders. “It’s already warm.” “Thanks,” you murmur, getting up from your place. The fire is warmer as you get closer, and he was right. His bed is already warm from his body, and you can’t help yourself but sigh as you lay down on the pelts and wrap another one around you. For a few moments, you just stare before you, feeling his eyes on you. You take a deep breath, looking up at him, and you turn around so that your face doesn't burn under his gaze.

#uhtred x reader #uhtred x you #uhtred ragnarsson imagine #uhtred imagine #the last kingdom imagine #the last kingdom x reader

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mindninjax · 3 years

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Iron and Wine (3)

Chapter 3- Lovely Bitter Water

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Erwin Smith x fem!reader (Royalty AU)

Warnings: Erwin can't keep his fucking hands to himself, sexual tension, some dirty talk, nightmares,

WC: 3.5K

a/n: Be wary of the warnings on this one just in case anyone is uncomfortable with it. But This chapter contains humor and sexual tension and by far was my favorite chapter to write so far.

The high stone ceiling peels away above you to show the sky. It is clear and dark, save for a thousand twinkling lights, the souls of those you’ve lost shining down upon you. You blink, once, twice, as the wind tickles your skin and dances merrily through your hair. There is a warm pale glow above you and your mind is wandering into the cosmos as you feel a pair of cool lips on your forehead. A glowing ball of white light beckons to you as you sit up and gaze around the swaying tall grass around you.

This is a dream.

You stand, the dress you’re wearing swaying with the wind like a synchronized dance. The air smells clean and fresh, like the trees back home. You take a step forward, smiling to yourself and basking in the white light shining down on you. The moon sits large on the horizon across the field you’re in and fills you with joy as you skip freely toward it. You laugh and it rings out into the field like a carol of bells.

You’re stopped in your tracks as a large white hoof stomps in front of you. The ground shakes from the impact and you can see it start to crumble. You look up and there is a beast with the face of a goat and the body of a man sitting atop the saddle. It’s eyes are blacker than an abyss, staring at you blankly. They’re cold, sucking the very life from you.

Suddenly the wind stops and it is deathly silent. The air no longer smells fresh and clean but reeks of rotten flesh. You whip your head around fear creeping up the back of your neck as the clear night sky forms dark stormy clouds above your head. The sky bursts open with an ear splitting crack and wailing misery from above can be heard. It is earth shattering, rumbling the world and making your ears bleed.

Horrific images flash before your eyes in quick succession. Animals' skin and bone disintegrate in his presence. When he dismounts from his horse the land dies beneath his feet and when he takes a step blood stains the earth.

You scream but the sound is stolen and swallowed by the darkness he brings. The last thing you see before it takes over you completely, is the beast opening his mouth, a sinister crooked smile on his lips as he utters the words “I have come and with me I bring death.”

You awake with a gasp and shoot up in the large bed. Your vision is blurred as the remnants of the dream fade away and the bright morning light breaks through the haze. It takes you a few minutes to recognize your surroundings, but it comes flying back to you when you see Historia lying peacefully next to you in bed.

You are in the wolf king’s castle, acting as what he refers to as a “guest” when really you are his prisoner. Historia helped you take a bath last night, washed your hair and dressed you in a light but extravagant sleeping gown. When it was time to retire for the night, she’d bowed to you and asked to be excused. Remembering how fond she was of the room, you’d suggested she stay here with you and sleep. It might’ve been a bit selfish on your part, her presence was calming and her soft breath next to your ear was the only thing that lulled you into slumber.

But that dream almost certainly was a warning. You’d prayed for clarity before you went to sleep and the Mother provided. However, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t woken up more confused than before. What was she trying to tell you? If Erwin Smith was in fact the enemy, the bringer of destruction and death, why did Her whispers stay your blade?

You shut your eyes tightly, put your index finger and thumb together while intertwining your other fingers and kiss the tip before bowing your head. “Forgive me Mother. I do not understand what it is I’m supposed to do. Erwin Smith is the enemy, so how do I stop him and save your children?” You whisper quietly under your breath.

A bubbling warmth pools in your gut when you think about the Wolf King and you don’t like the way it makes your heart thrum in your chest like a caged bird. You don’t understand what part he’s to play, whether you should trust him or not. But one thing is for certain, The Mother does not want him dead. You roll your eyes before getting off the bed and walking to the window to open the heavy curtains and let in the sun’s warmth.

Historia still sleeps peacefully on the bed, her even breathing occasionally interrupted by soft snores. You smile as you watch her, curled up on the bed, innocent and lovely. Perhaps you were wrong to think you couldn’t trust any of the people in the castle. As you watch the bustling people below from the window, you take a deep breath and make your decision. The only people who have actually shown you their true selves are Erwin and the little dog he keeps next to him. Which means, the only ones you have to distrust right now are those two. It would make for an easier time if you were being forced to stay here.

Then it’s settled, you’ll be cordial to the others and keep your guard up around Erwin and his knight. He may think you’ll agree to his plan, but you won’t. The fact that you can’t kill him is bothersome but you can definitely take this time to learn more about how he rules and bring that viable information back to your people.

Two quick knocks on the door draw your eyes away from the people below and your body instantly crouches into defense. You shake your head, trying to break the automatic defensive edge that is built into your character. Cordial and pleasant. That’s what you need to be. A nervous voice on the other side of the door calls out.

“Good Morning my lady, King Erwin demands your presence in the council room.”

You squint your eyes in frustration. Demands?

You wrench the door open to see the tall farm pup man standing before you. He jumps a bit at the sudden swing of the door and his eyes drift down your body before he turns red and looks away nervously. You don’t realize how thin the garment you’re wearing is. Your nipples bead in the cool air in the chamber and a breeze flows through your legs making it cling to your curves. You smile a little to yourself at his obvious embarrassment.

“You’re one of the knights he sent to stand outside my door, yes? To make sure I don’t run off?” you say, raising an eyebrow.

He still doesn’t look at you, but nods his head and says “Yes my lady.”

“I see, and you are Ser…?”

“Moblit my lady. Umm if you don’t mind me saying, maybe you would feel more comfortable in more appropriate attire? The King is demanding I escort you to the council chamber at once,” he says again.

You study him for a bit. He’s cute with warm trusting eyes. You can tell he’s not faking how nervous he seems to be around you but if you were to guess why Erwin would keep someone like him around, he’s probably levelheaded on the battlefield. You do raise your eyebrow in frustration at his use of the word “demands” again but you clear your throat and look at him.

“Well, thank you for guarding the door Ser Moblit,” you say bowing to him.

You smile brightly at him as he’s caught off guard by your pleasant attitude. He blushes again when you complete the bow and gaze back into his large brown eyes. You can hear Historia yawning and waking up behind you. You hear her little gasp as she jumps out of bed and runs to the door, mortified at the way you’re dressed in front of Moblit.

“You can’t just answer the door dressed like that! It’s indecent!” she squeaks, trying to cover you as you laugh warm heartedly at her. The last thing you say to him before Historia pulls you back into the room and shuts the door is “Please tell the King to get fucked in the ass by his horse before he demands anything of me again.”

Erwin lifts his clear eyes from the scroll of parchment at the sound of the heavy doors opening. The sound echoes loudly around the room creating a grand entrance. He stops scribbling and peaks an eyebrow when he sees only one person entering the council room. Moblit clears his throat uncomfortably as he approaches. All eyes are on him as he bows respectfully avoiding the King’s gaze.

Erwin speaks calmly, no hint of frustration in his voice. “Moblit, why is my guest not with you?”

Moblit bows again before responding, “My apologies sire, she...refused to come.”

“Really now? Did she give a reason why?” He asks as if he’s unbothered with the disobedience.

“N..no sire.”

Erwin smiles to himself, thumping his long fingers on the large wooden table. Of course you wouldn’t come. This is exactly what he expected. If you had shown up, that would’ve been too easy and not your style. “Not giving a reason certainly doesn’t sound like something the silver tongued little lioness would do. Come, tell me her words.”

“S..she requested that your majesty… ahem… be fucked in the ass by your horse,” Moblit stutters and shifts his eyes and it looks like it physically pains him to say this to his King. The room goes silent, Hange tries to keep a snicker in, Levi growls underneath his breath, and the others watch Erwin carefully.

He looks back down to his parchment and continues scribbling. “Nifa.” He says not looking up as he continues to write. Nifa jumps at the sound of her name. She sits in the corner of the room, large rolls of parchment are draped over the side of the small table she sits at. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“Is there anything on the roster after sunset?”

Nifa shuffles through the parchment as her eyes scan over the schedule. “No, Your Grace.”

“Excellent. Please add ‘fuck my horse’ to the roster for just after nightfall. Thank you.”

Hange’s snicker erupts into laughter as Nifa scribbles in the addition and Erwin smirks to himself.

You sit in front of the large vanity mirror, the candles dripping wax down the candle holder. You stare into the fire, daydreaming of leaving this place as the last remnants of sunlight become swallowed by the horizon. You’ve been cooped up in this room all day, refusing all who came to the door with food and gifts of clothes from the King.

“I still can’t believe you told Ser Moblit to tell the King that. I’ve never heard anyone speak like that about His Highness,” Historia says nervously as she brushes your hair. You’re holding a silver goblet full of wine that was brought up to your room, a peace offering, the woman who’d given it to you said. It wouldn’t be here if not for Historia asking to sample it. It’s true you’ve taken a very intense liking to Historia. She truly feels like your only friend here.

You sniff the wine and wrinkle your nose in disgust. It smells processed and fake, not at all like the wine Carla makes back home. Erwin must think you a fool. As if you’d drink something he’d present to you as a gift. It could be poisoned.

You set the cup down as Historia moves to braid intricate little braids at the crown of your head and let the rest flow freely down your back.

“Well, you’ve never left this castle. Outside these walls, the people don’t speak fondly of your king,” you scold her.

“Why not? King Erwin has done nothing but help me since he found me in my village,” she says seriously.

“What do you mean?” You turn around to gaze at her in confusion. It has occurred to you that you haven’t asked her anything about herself and it saddens you. Your gaze softens as you look at her and she smiles her bright smile at you before a firm knock on your door makes the both of you jump.

“Don’t,” she says, putting a hand in front of you to stop you from moving. “We don’t need a repeat of this morning. You probably almost killed Moblit. Put this on I’ll get the door for you,” she says handing you a silk robe to cover the thin nightgown you wear.

You chuckle as she walks to the door and opens it warily. You hear her squeak in surprise and turn to see her bowing lowly and Erwin pushing the door open and stepping into the room. You stand quickly, pulling the robe up over your arms and glaring as he enters.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he says warmly to Historia. She blushes and shakes her head quickly, her blonde locks hitting her cheeks.

“No, Your Grace. My lady was just getting ready to sleep for the night,” she replies, still holding the door, face full of shock.

Erwin’s eyes rake up and down your figure and he smiles that cocksure smile he’s famous for. “Yes, I can see that. Historia, would you mind giving me and the Lioness a moment of privacy?” he asks, bending down to take her hand into both of his.

You’re steaming, grinding your teeth as you watch Historia’s face grow pink and she nods wordlessly to him. “No! Historia stays with me. Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of her.” You step between her and the door and she looks nervously between you and him. He gives her a knowing look and she scurries past you, whispering in your ear quickly. “I’ll be back when he leaves.”

When she closes the door quietly behind her, you glare up at Erwin who continues smiling warmly at you. “I see you’re not a fan of the wine I had sent up for your pleasure,” he says walking to the vanity and picking up the goblet. He takes a sip, then closes his eyes and relishes in the sweet taste. “This is the best wine in the entire kingdom, made specifically for the King.” You curl your lip up in disgust.

“It tastes that way. Like it was only meant to please you. It lacks the care, the love for the vine and fruit that you would be able to taste in each sip,” you explain, rolling your eyes. Not like he would understand anyway. A spoiled king with servants to do his every bidding would never understand the time and care it takes to produce good wine.

“Hmm I suppose it does,” he says, eyeing you curiously. You can tell he’s enjoying this, the way his sneaky sapphire eyes move slowly up your body, lingering on the spread of your hips and the curve of your breast. You turn away from him in disgust.

“Why are you here?”

He feigns shock, eyes growing wide and he puts a hand to his chest. “Why, my lady, I thought you summoned me here. Surely I didn’t misinterpret Moblit’s message.”

Confusion floods your face as you squint and question his sanity. “Are you mad? I told Ser Moblit no such thing,” you say, shaking your head.

“Hmm, I thought for sure being fucked by my own horse was some kind of coded message. It is quite sudden I will admit but I have had many who crave me and I will not tell a lie, I am fascinated by what is beneath your lovely gown,” he says casually walking over to stand in front of you and smile down smugly.

You can feel your face heating at the insinuation. As if you’d ever invite him to your room, least of all for that. You sputter a bit before quickly retorting, “Is that what you tell all the women you try to seduce into a pact with you? I am not that weak and I have met many who were worth craving.”

You see the shock flash across his face and return his smug smile. His expression turns dark then and he lowers his voice and moves so close to you that you can smell the lingering scent of the wine he sipped.

“Do not continue to insult me. Your snide comments are only as entertaining as I continue to allow them to be. You would’ve been dead a long time ago were it not for the way I enjoy your tongue sliding over your lips while you say them,” he breathes and the warmth envelops you and makes your head a bit dizzy.

You keep your composure though, opting to continue to tease and make him as uncomfortable as he made you. You’re determined to expose his weakness and walk out of this castle vowing to destroy him and everything he holds dear.

“A shame that even the great Wolf King can be brought to his knees by a woman,” you reply sarcastically.

“Forgive me, but you are mistaking a fleeting lust-filled gaze for something more. I shall not kill you until we’ve come to an agreement, that or...I have at least tasted you upon my lips. And once I have—and I will one day—the fascination will cease. But until then, enjoy your stay in my castle and please read over the document I’ve provided. I am sure it will help with your decision.”

Your hand is itching to slap him across his chiseled jaw. You crane your hand back quickly but he catches it and throws you against the nearest wall. He pins you against it with his large body looming over you, the hand you were about to use to slap him pinned above your head and the other at your side. He tightens his grip on your wrists, a thick muscular thigh wedged between yours, partaking in the warmth radiating from your cunt.

“You’d dare to strike your king?” He grunts in a husky voice as you struggle in his grasp. His breath washes over you again as he cranes his neck down to drink in your scent.

“You are not my king,” you hiss through your teeth.

“Ahh there is the fierceness that makes my cock weep. A true lioness. Breaking you will be the greatest victory I’ve ever tasted. ”

You’re ashamed at how his words affect you. He pushes his thigh ever so slightly up against your folds and you gasp as his cock twitches against your thigh. He stares into your eyes, half lidded as his breathing increases.

His musk strangely reminds you of home, it’s woody and spicy like roasted chestnuts during the Celestial Ides festival. Hints of rose linger around the edges and you try very hard not to be drawn in by it. Your face burns as his eyes shift down to your lips and he leans in to brush his against your neck.

His lips are surprisingly soft and he’s very skilled at swiping them against your collarbone and up your jaw in such a way that would have you pleading for more if it were not him. You shudder and hold in the moan that desperately craves to be released before wriggling in his grasp to try and free yourself. Your hand moves to the tiny hidden slit you made in the robe when Historia wasn’t looking.

He moves gently up to your jaw, dragging his lips over your soft skin. He only stops when he feels a cool sharp prick right beneath his rib cage.

“Let. Me. Go. Or I’ll carve out your heart and feed it to your dogs,” you say between clenched teeth and heavy sensual breaths. You push the dagger harder into his side and it pricks through the fabric of his shirt, drawing blood.

He chuckles and releases his hold on you, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender. He pulls a rolled up piece of parchment from the inside of his loose sleeves and places it onto the vanity before saying, “I should’ve known you’d have a weapon hidden on your person. I guess you’ve become a bigger distraction to me than I previously assumed.”

You wipe your neck and face where his lips were in disgust, holding the dagger and crouching ready to spring should he come closer to you.

“Get out. And do not ever touch me again.”

He only smiles a warm hearted smile, as if nothing has happened and walks to the door to open it.

“Until next time, my lady,” and shuts the door quietly behind him.

taglist: @lazyezstudy @jeanbeaux @ixwrites @melyannathemaia @forlancasterrr @starstruckkittensweets @charlotteplsdosth @mythical-goth @casspea @saturnalya @neptvnia @mrs-kuroojinguji

Strikethrough means tumblr won’t let me tag! I’m sorry

#erwin smith x reader #erwin x reader #erwin smith #erwin x you #iron and wine #marquie writes

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laurfilijames · 3 years

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Wild Horses- Part 1 (Prequel to Slow Burn)

Pairing: Modern AU Fili x Female OC Prim

Words: 3,359

Warnings: injury (dislocated shoulder and deep cut, mention of concussion), blood, injuries being treated. Swearing. Illusions of sex/smut. Military personnel in a training activity. Sound of an explosion.

Summary: This is the beginning of the story of Fili and Prim. They meet in this chapter by accident and sweet Fili helps tend to Prim after falling off her horse, sparking their connection and attraction to each other.

A/N: My lovely and dear friend helped me immensely with this by not only being my beta and editing it (multiple times) as well as encouraging me through my many moments of doubt. She is incredible and I will forever be grateful to her for her kindness and amazing way with words. @guardianofrivendell this one's for you!

—————-

Prim could sense it.

The young, inexperienced horse she was on was going to spook. Apollo flinched at every bird that flew overhead and every rustle in the leaves on the trees and bushes that surrounded them.

She knew it wasn’t the best idea, going out for a trail ride alone on a green horse, but it needed to happen. If she was going to use him as a lesson horse to teach her more novice riders, he needed to be able to handle these types of situations so she wasn’t constantly worried about him taking off on them and someone getting injured.

Prim made an attempt to calm him down with a reassuring pat on his neck, “It’s okay, buddy, you’re alright,”

After a few minutes of walking soundly, Prim felt more comfortable and she was finally able to enjoy their surroundings. But it was short lived when a loud explosion sounded in the distance, causing her gelding to leap forward into a canter and take off quickly down the trail.

“Woah, woah! Easy!” she called out to him as she attempted to slow him down, seating her weight down hard in the saddle and trying to regain control with her reins. She spun him around in a tight circle to get him to stop, but he flung his head to the other side hard, hopping as he did and then bucked before taking off again.

Prim had dealt with horses spooking more times than she cared to count, but still the familiar nervousness fluttered in her stomach and in her head she knew if he didn’t ease off soon she was going to end up on the ground.

Despite her efforts, the poor horse wasn’t having it, proceeding to gallop full tilt through the wooded area with no destination in mind.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, a second explosion sounded, causing the horse to freak out even more.

Apollo suddenly left the trail and bolted into the bushes instead. Prim tried to dodge the low hanging branches as best as she could by keeping her face close to the horse’s neck, but couldn’t avoid a twig whipping against her cheek. The warm drop of blood trickling down her face went unnoticed.

Just as she made the decision to dismount, he bucked again and threw her from his back.

Prim landed hard on the ground, her body making a loud thud, pain instantly screaming through her left shoulder.

A wave of nausea washed over her, knowing something was broken or dislocated, but she refused to let herself pass out, she needed to get her horse back and help for herself.

She swayed a little when she brought herself to stand, exhaling through her mouth to try and breathe through the pain.

The weight of her arm hanging at her side was enough to make her want to vomit, so she supported it by gripping her elbow with her right hand. Her shoulder was definitely dislocated but she didn’t have the strength or knowledge to replace it on her own.

Just start walking, she thought, willing herself to move in the direction her horse had gone. Luckily the ground was muddy, so locating his hoof prints was easy.

She fought against the nausea and softly hummed a tune to try and distract herself. Her vision started to blur and she didn’t know how long she could stay awake. She needed to find someone and fast.

Sweat beaded down her face and Prim moved with as much speed as she could manage, hoping it wouldn’t take long to find Apollo.

“STOP! Stop! Hold your fire!” Fili yelled when he saw a horse gallop straight into the field his soldiers were practicing drills in.

What the fuck?

This was a first.

The horse was fully tacked, but missing its rider.

“Kili, can you try to grab it?” he instructed his brother. “I’m going to go look for its rider.” Judging by the bewildered look and how sweaty and terrified the horse was, the rider was most likely in rough shape.

Fili took off at a run into the forest, quickly tracking and following the hoof prints from where the horse had come from.

Within a couple of minutes he caught sight of the rider, a young woman staggering toward him, also following the tracks made by her horse.

“Hey, are you okay?” he panted, stopping in front of her. Her face was bleeding, a deep gash on her cheek just below her eye and she looked awfully pale.

“My horse took off-“ she began, wincing as her trembling hand tried to support her arm. Fili noticed right away that her shoulder was dislocated.

“Yeah it ran into our training area, he’s okay we’ve got a hold of him,” Fili explained, knowing the woman would be concerned about her horse’s safety.

“Sit down, I’m going to pop your shoulder back in,”

The woman’s eyes widened with disbelief, probably thinking she would be taken to the hospital for treatment, causing Fili to chuckle slightly at her alarm.

“It’s okay, I’ve done this before. My younger brother really liked climbing trees when he was little,“ he tried to assure her with a smile.

Fili wasn’t a doctor, but he had enough experience from being in the military and a brother to Kili to help with this.

He gently helped her to the ground, knowing every movement was sending searing pain through her arm.

“This isn’t going to feel good, I’m sorry,” he apologized in advance, knowing how much this was hurting her, and how much more it was about to hurt going back into position.

“Yeah, it’s fine, just fucking do it, please,” she nearly begged, her eyes shut tight.

Before he did anything, he grabbed a small stick and held it up in front of her face.

“Here, bite on this,” he instructed.

She opened her mouth and he placed it between her teeth, giving her something to clamp down on.

“Ready?” he asked, placing his hands on her, one on her collarbone and the other on her upper arm.

She nodded yes and squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself.

With one swift motion, Fili pressed her arm up and back into its socket. She screamed through the stick in her mouth, tears springing from her eyes to mix with the blood and dirt on her cheeks.

“There, it’s okay, it’s done,” he soothed her, his concern switching from her arm to the gash on her face. The cut looked like it needed stitches.

She wiped the tears from her eyes quickly, seeming as if she was embarrassed for crying, only to look at her fingers that were now smeared with blood.

“Fucks sake,” she cursed, becoming more aware of her second injury.

“I think you need some stitches,” Fili explained. “I have some stuff back at the trucks. Are you okay to walk?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said as she stood too quickly, losing her balance slightly and grabbing onto his arm for support.

She looked at him for the first time and he couldn’t help but smile.

She was stunning.

Her eyes were green and vibrant despite the pain that showed in them.

“I can carry you,” he offered.

She nodded yes, and he was happy for it.

He stepped to the other side of her so it would be her uninjured arm that hung around his neck, allowing the previously dislocated one to rest on her body. He scooped her up easily, hooking her legs in the crook of his arm, his other hand clutching around her waist.

He walked a few steps before he felt her head rest against his shoulder, and for some reason it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Fili remained quiet as he walked the short distance back to the training area, not wanting to disturb the woman resting in his arms.

Kili sprinted over to him as soon as he entered the field, closing the distance quickly.

“Hey, is she okay?” Kili asked, looking over her condition as Fili continued walking to his truck.

“She dislocated her shoulder, I already fixed it, but I’m worried she might have a concussion,” he nodded at the cut on her cheek, “This is pretty deep too.”

He looked down at the woman still tucked up against him, “I’m going to set you down now, okay?” Fili stated, placing her gently on the open tailgate of his truck.

“Thank you, but I’m fine, really, I just need to get my horse and go-“

“I don’t think so, I need to dress this cut,” he insisted.

Kili walked over, holding the reins and guiding her horse over to them.

“Is he okay?” The woman asked, more concerned about her horse than herself. Fili smiled to himself as he watched her eagerly look over her horse, searching for any injuries from where she sat.

“Yeah, he seems to be fine now, just scared,” Kili explained to her as he pet the horse on the neck and spoke softly to it.

“Kili is great with horses, he’s in good hands,” Fili assured her, “you’re the one who needs looking after now,” he smiled.

As much as Prim hated feeling weak and vulnerable, regardless of being injured, she felt comfortable in the presence of this soldier. She couldn’t believe that she allowed him to carry her all the way here either, she just wasn’t that type of girl, always looking after herself. But there was something about him that made her feel at ease.

Prim admired his features as he gathered the supplies to clean and dress her face.

He appeared a few years older than her, his age given away by the fine lines that decorated the skin around his eyes and forehead. He was quite handsome, and his piercingly blue eyes made her chest tighten every time they looked at her.

He removed the black helmet from his head, revealing blond waves that were slicked back with sweat.

Prim lifted her arm to remove her own helmet, but was stopped by the pain that still lingered in her shoulder.

“Here, let me,” the soldier offered, moving his thick fingers to unbuckle the strap under her chin.

After taking off her helmet, he began to gently wipe the blood from her cheek. She couldn’t help but flinch when he touched it a little harder than she knew he meant to, the regret clear on his face.

She smiled despite the pain, “It’s okay, I’m fine,” she said, giving him permission to continue.

“It might need stitches,” he explained, his brows knitted together, “I only have surgical strips on me but I think they’ll hold.”

“I trust you,” she said, unsure exactly why she did.

He chuckled quietly, the sound rumbling through his chest that made his body move as he did it.

She wanted to hear him do that again.

She found it difficult to know where to look with him being so close to her face, making the act seem extremely intimate.

She took in the stubble that coated his cheeks that she knew had been shaved yesterday and grown back already, the indent in his nose that perhaps formed from it being broken, and the curve of his lips that were parted slightly as he concentrated on taking care of her cut. Then her eyes landed on his extremely curly, blond chest hair peeking out through the collar of his undershirt and she felt inclined to touch it.

Prim could tell even through his military gear that his physique was solid and defined.

Dirty thoughts stirred up in her mind as she continued to look him over, his gorgeous face a welcome distraction from the sting on her cheek and unrelenting ache in her shoulder.

Was he single? she wondered. Not possible.

Although his fingers were thick and his hands were dirty and calloused, they were deft and skilled and she imagined how they would feel on other parts of her body.

Would he be the type of lover who was gentle and attentive, yet capable of rough and eager pleasure?

Yes. Definitely, she decided.

As her thoughts continued that way, she came to the realization that he was standing between her legs, his thick torso a demanding presence against her inner thigh. It was enough to feel her cheeks heat up and she prayed that he wouldn’t notice or think it was from the adrenaline of her accident.

She needed to think of something else.

Letting her vanity get the best of her she broke the silence between them.

“It’s going to leave a nasty scar, isn’t it?”

His eyes moved from the cut where he was focused up to meet hers and smiled, revealing his dimples once more.

“You’ll still be beautiful,” he said and winked at her.

Fuck.

She was done for and she didn’t even know his name.

“Can I get the name of the soldier who saved my day?” Prim asked curiously as he removed his fingers from her cheek.

“Fili,” he answered with a grin.

Those fucking dimples.

“Thank you, Fili,” she beamed back at him. “I’m Prim.”

He looked up at her through his blond eyelashes, regarding her with something that hinted at amusement, “It’s nice to meet you, Prim,” his voice was husky and made her flush even more.

She liked the sound of her name on his lips.

“Well, I think I should probably head back, let you get on with whatever this is-“ she waved the hand of her good arm in the direction of where a group of soldiers stood waiting for instructions, “I don’t want to cause any more trouble,” she carefully slid off the back of the truck and took the reins from the man who’s name was Kili, dreading her walk back.

“You’re not riding back, are you?” Kili asked her, slightly alarmed.

Yes, she thought but decided to change her mind so as not to make them worried.

“Uhh, no, I’ll walk back, it’s only a couple of kilometres.”

She was definitely mounting up again as soon as she was out of sight, regardless of how her shoulder felt.

“I’ll walk with you,” the blond offered, and her stomach flipped.

“No, please, you’ve done enough. I don’t want to be anymore of a disruption,” she said, trying to maintain her pride.

“I insist. It’s no trouble. I can have my brother pick me up from your barn,” he explained with another smile. “And I’d like to make sure you get back okay.”

Prim swallowed, not only was he sexy as hell, he was sweet too.

“Only if you’re insisting,” she said with a sly smirk.

She looked him over, thinking maybe he was keen to be in her company a little longer as well.

Prim turned to Kili and thanked him for his help before starting through the field in the direction of the forest from where she came. She had Apollo’s reins clutched in the hand of her uninjured side with him following easily behind her, and Fili striding along with them to her left.

She typically never felt awkward or shy around anyone, usually exuding confidence and sometimes maybe even a little cockiness when it came to talking to men, but Fili made her feel different. She couldn’t think of anything to say to him and she cursed herself.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Good, considering. A little achy and tired, but I’ll live,” she couldn’t help but grin and look away because of how intensely he was staring at her, his blue eyes piercing.

“Make sure you get some rest,” Fili advised.

“I will,” she lied. She still had ten stalls to muck out and hungry horses to feed when she returned to the barn and it was going to take her twice as long with one arm hardly being of any use.

“So how long have you been training there?” Prim asked, wondering how she never noticed military training before today in the area she rode through so often.

“Not long, but we will be more frequently,” he explained.

“I should probably start avoiding this area then, right?” she quipped.

“I would recommend it,” Fili grinned.

Unless I want to see you again, she thought.

Fili took in the facility when they arrived, admiring the large arena and sprawling fields where multiple horses were scattered about, grazing in the sunshine.

“So you run all of this?” he asked, thinking what a demanding task that would be.

“Mhm,” Prim hummed as she walked into the barn and started untacking Apollo. “I took over the business from my coach about two years ago.”

“And you do everything by yourself?” Fili wondered.

She laughed, making him want to hear her do it over and over. “For the most part. I do have some students who help with chores in exchange for lessons, which helps a ton, but that’s only a few times a week.”

He watched her pause when it was time to remove the saddle from the horse’s back, prompting him to quickly offer to do it for her, knowing her shoulder couldn’t manage reaching up to lift it.

“I’ll get it,”

“Thanks,” she pointed to a saddle rack on the wall, “you can just set it over there.”

Fíli placed it down and turned to face her.

“Would you like to come out for a bite to eat and some drinks tonight?” The words came out of his mouth before he knew what he was doing.

He saw her hesitation and cringed, thinking he had crossed a line, and bit his lip as he tried to recover.

“It’s nothing big, just myself and Kili and his girlfriend, you don’t need to feel obligated though.”

He felt like an idiot. She was probably tired and sore and the last thing she would want to do is go out.

But he wanted to see her again. He refused to let this be it.

“I’d love to.”

Fili sighed with relief, happy she agreed.

Prim approached him, now standing close enough he could lean forward and kiss her if he was ever so bold.

“I’ll give you my number so you can let me know the details,” she held her hand out for him to place his phone in.

She tucked her bottom lip in her teeth in an effort to restrain her smile while she typed her information into his contacts before handing it back to him.

He laughed when he read what she listed as the name with her phone number; Horse Girl With The Messed Up Face.

“Just in case you confuse me with any other damsel in distress you happen to rescue,” she winked at him and he stifled a growl.

“There could be no confusion, Prim,” he assured her.

“Fili?” They heard Kili call from the main entrance, seeing him turn the corner and spot them. “Sorry to interrupt-“ he trailed off, making Fili take a step back from Prim.

“I’ll be right there, Ki,” Fili said to his brother.

Looking back to Prim, he instantly smiled. “I’ll call you later then,”

“I look forward to it,” she admitted, “And thank you, again for everything,”

“It’s nothing, I’m glad you’re okay.”

He watched her turn and walk over to a wheelbarrow and pitchfork that were leaning against the wall, concerned she was about to start doing a chore she shouldn’t because of her shoulder.

“Hey you’re not-“ he began, but she cut him off.

“The stalls aren’t going to clean themselves,” she retorted.

Oh, she was a stubborn one.

“No, no, you can’t do that, you’ll only end up hurting yourself more.”

She raised her eyebrows at him in a ‘well who the hell is going to do it then’ way, leaving him no other choice but to pluck the pitchfork from her hand.

“Kili!” he called over his shoulder, taking joy in the complaints spewing from his brother’s mouth when he realized what he’d been recruited to do.

“You’re not serious.”

“Incredibly.” Fili grinned at his brother, handing him a shovel.

————

#fili durin #fili x oc #modern au #dean o'gorman #fili imagine #fili x reader #fili #slow burn #wild horses #series #fili the hobbit #the hobbit #fili friday #also known as deano day #fili smut #fili fic #modern fili

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trillian-anders · 4 years

Text

beguiled

pairing: geralt of rivia x reader

warnings: violence, angst, smut, jealousy

word count: 3.1k

description: part 2 of 3. it’s been decades since you’ve last employed the witcher to help you dispatch of a spectre. you seek him out for him to help you with one more task and jealousy rears its ugly head.

The room smelled of mead. Sweet and sticky. Viciously spread through the bodies until they were dripping with it. Words cooed into ears in dark corners, a hand drifting up a skirt, picking at the laces of a dress. A brawl in the middle of the room over something trivial. A misplaced footstep. A bump of a shoulder, who knows. It was not a party unless someone had a broken bone by the end. It was not a party unless at the end someone was in critical condition.

The Queen sat proudly, poised and sure, nary a hair out of place. Sipping merrily but keeping her wits. Her eyes tracing the shapes of the walls, banisters, chiseled marble. Drifting out among her subjects, her warriors, to keep herself aware of what was going on below her pedestal. Looking down at the merry drunken fighters and the pretty little maids they set their eyes on.

As much as every kingdom felt like they were different, superior, they were all the same. Cheating Kings, spoiled wedding beds, hushed trysts in the night. Drinking yourself blind after an economic win, drinking yourself half to death after barely surviving battle. If the blade were not your end, surely it would be your poisoned liver.

Geralt had seen hundreds of these parties and surely, Geralt would see a hundred more. His cup never empty, a pleasant strum in his belly and his pocket full of coin. He was satisfied with his hunt, the unpleasant beasty falling to his sword, and the Queen paid him handsomely. The gift of a free meal and a warm bed to pass the night. Now he just needed a warm body to fill it.

A scent, familiar, stirred his loins. Lilac and gooseberries. The drift of it curling around him and tugging him away from viewing the brawl from his table. He could almost taste her, Yennefer, his nose picking up her scent. It tore him from the throne room, bathing himself in it as the crisp night air met his nostrils. Cup discarded he followed the trail, far into the hedge maze before him. The twisting and turning leading him towards her. Bringing him closer and closer to the center of the maze. To the small pond and bench, a large tree cloaked in the darkness of the night. The source of the scent directly below, but it was not Yennefer.

It was you.

A cheeky grin on your face as he tried to not show his surprise. Jaw set tight. Fists clenched in a subdued anger.

“Witcher.” You grin.

“What are you doing here?” You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, gazing around at the night lilies, the pond still and silent.

“The question dear butcher,” You muse, “Is what do I want?”

“You tricked me.” A statement.

“Your affection for Yenn tricked you,” You scoff, standing, “It just helped me bring you out here,” The castle behind him still standing, lights from the throne room casting shadows on the grass. “If I knew you had such an affection for her previously,” The last time you’d met, when he ripped the Hym’s claws from your back, “I might not have gone so easily on you.” His mind flipping back decades to the feeling of his back digging into the stone floor. He would be lying if it did not cause his dick to twitch in his trousers.

“What is it that you want Mage?” He was annoyed, you could tell that very well, but he could have just left so it is something.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you last…” Stepping towards him, hands on your hips, you peer up into his face almost flush with his chest, “How would you like to make a bit of coin? I have a proposition for you.” A heated glare, it stirs in your loins and sets your belly on fire. The scent of lilacs and gooseberries evaporating from the air.

“What do you want?” It was a bite and you place your hand on his chest, letting it drift up to hold the side his neck, pressing your breasts against him. Close.

“I need you to kill a little beasty for me,” A doe eyed look, your thumb coming to brush his bottom lip, “How skilled are you at alchemy?”

Very skilled it seems. Those little black vials of swallow sat in a satchel on his hip. Something tied to Roach’s saddle quite tightly as he rode. You lead on your own horse, taking him far away from the city and deep into the dark wood surrounding it. The mare’s steady hoof beats sync, and that is the sound between you. You could feel those amber eyes boring into the back of your head, you had not half a mind to wonder what went on in his. Good fortune brought him back to you, good fortune or that shiny gold coin you had kept for decades now.

His grace and mercy.

You turn to look at him, meeting his eye, “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” You ask, “Daydreaming about someone else?” You did not expect an answer, and he did not give one. “You know, she told me about the wish.” The steady beat of hooves. “The wish you’d always find your way back to one another.” It felt bitter on your tongue. “And you made that decision after one meeting?” Bitter and sour, a bubbling in your belly. “I should be bereft that you hadn’t the same fondness of me, but then again she’s a bit more attainable. Powerful. It is attractive really. I could understand… if I wanted to.”

“All mages are powerful.” His low timbre, it sends a shiver down your spine.

“I’m sure her Elven blood helps her none.” You muse. A day’s journey it had been. A small village looms in the distance. “We should make camp.” As the sun begins to set. “I’m getting hungry.” By the river you set a fire, Geralt hunting game.

“So why do you need me to kill a drowner?” He asked, dropping a bundle of rabbits by the fire. “What do you need it for?” You furrow your brow, standing from your crouched position digging through your bag,

“I’m not paying you to ask questions Witcher.” He rolls his eyes, sitting heavily on an overturned tree, pulling the game into his lap to skin and prepare to cook. You shrug your coat back on, sitting across from him. The sound of wood crackling, he set the rabbit up on a makeshift spit.

“What happened with the King?” Of course, he would ask. The King whose son was now on the throne, the curse from the Hym gone from the town, but not forgotten. You were sure he heard tales of his own bravery there. Geralt of Rivia, whether it was fame or infamy was anyone’s guess, but if he did their dirty work for them, he could stay.

“He died thankfully,” You sigh, “His stupid little heart gave out… his son is on the throne now.” Geralt looks across at you, a strange look on his face. “You know, for a Witcher who is supposed to be above emotion you certainly show a lot of it on your face… What?”

He shakes his head, looking back onto the roasting rabbits before saying, “For a moment I wondered how you felt about it, if you felt anything for it anymore.” The guilt. To tell the truth it comes and goes, but you say to him,

“It’s long forgotten.” Which you are sure he does not buy it, but he drops it none the less. “When was the last time you’ve seen her? Yenn?” He shifts in his seat,

“Eight years now.” You hum.

“She’s ever the flighty bird.” An unimpressed stare.

“As if you’re any different.” He jests. You shake your head, sighing contently,

“I never said I wasn’t.” He looks at you for a moment more, debating something in his head before deciding against it. The dinner eaten in silence, you lay under the stars swathed in your coat, the fire burning into embers beside you.

“You were going to leave anyway.” A whisper. “What difference did it make that I told you to leave instead?” Silence. You could hear the crickets in the distance, singing for their night.

“Go to sleep.”

…

You dipped your toes into the river, the day was warm, you had been sweating in your dress. The outer heavy layers discarded as Geralt walked the length of the river you watched him from the corner of your eye as his amber orbs searched its depths. The Drowner was nearby, that you knew. A ghoulish figure that preyed on pretty milkmaids that were bathing in the river or pulled merchants from a low hanging bridge.

They are necrophages. They drown you and then devour your corpse. And you had brought your lovely Witcher to a nest. The pesky things were severely damaging your trading routes. A little business you had cultivated for yourself, your home being not too far from here, you sold the thing that people wanted the most, a mage’s services.

Your toes in the cold water would hopefully bring them to the surface, pull one out of hiding. You dared to venture deeper, shifting your skirt higher on your hips.

“Stay. There.” He says, eyes moving over the deep depths of the lake. “You always seem to have a death wish.” He murmurs.

“None more so than you,” You muse, kicking your foot in the water. “I’m sure if I were to be swept under, you’d valiantly save me… another song for your little bard to come up with. A tale of a poor maiden and the grizzled Witcher who saved her from a watery grave.” You watched your toes wiggle against the dirt of the lake floor. “Saving her from being eaten by a drowner, so thankful that she rode your cock until morning.” You laugh. But he paused. Settled on one part of the lake’s edge.

“Get out of the water.” Spoken in a panic. You had been in the water to your knees, amusement lost as his eyes met yours, fear. For you. You quickly tread to the edge, feet meeting the harsh rock bed of the lake as you tripped out into the mud, his arm pulling you away fully.

A head bobbed to the surface. It was an ugly thing, scaly and green. A sharp fin sprouted from its back with three spikes and devilishly long talons stretching from its long fingers. You had never seen one alive before, it took your breath away. As one head bobbed, two more sprouted behind him. Three.

“It seems as though the whole nest is hungry.” You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, walking backwards to grab your own sword. Geralt was brave and mighty but a nest of drowners at once was not going to be an easy feat.

“Stay behind me.” The foul creatures trekking through the muck towards the two of you, spreading area attempting to circle. You grip the handle of your sword, the creatures coming close. A swipe of their claws at Geralt’s belly. One moving to the side to encapsulate you. You press your back to his, hand thrusting forward and sending the two beasts on your side back before swinging with your sword and severing its arm from its shoulder. A gooey black blood pouring out. Thick and viscous.

You could hear the smooth movement from behind you, Geralt’s silver sword cutting through the air with speed and precision. Two bodies lay at his feet, one at yours. There is four more. Your hand moves out again, pushing the four back as Geralt lifts his sword and buries it into another, he pushes you out of the way of one’s claws and buries his sword in its belly, grunting and swinging again.

You huff as the last body falls, gazing over at Geralt. “You’ve got a cut.” You pant, wiping sweat from your brow.

“Very astute of you.” He glares, rinsing his sword off in the lake.

“It’s about to get cold.” You walk over to your horse, grabbing your boots off the ground, “Take their heads and let’s go.” You mount. He looks at you incredulously.

“Go where?”

“To my home.”

…

It was simple, mostly brick, one story home. It was not what Geralt was expecting. A garden overflowing with herbs, and a cat out front, lapping water from a dish. He dropped the heads in the front garden, he’d scrape their brain matter out later to make his swallow, something he’s sure you’d be able to help him with seeing as you had all the other ingredients already growing beside your house.

“Take your boots off when you come in.” You peer at him over your shoulder. “I’ll make a bath.”

The tub was steaming as he submerged himself into it. Scalding on his skin and burning on his healing cut as he watched you from across the room, stripped down to your shift. Comfortable enough in front of him for that, or maybe you just did not care.

“Have you always wanted to live alone?” He asked, “Is that why you’re all the way out here?” Truthfully, you did live in the middle of nowhere, but living alone, that was just,

“A side effect from not being able to trust anyone.” You shrug, pulling at the laces of your shift, he gazed at the side of your breast revealed, “A mage’s life is funny, being needed by everyone yet being important to no one.” He watched as you dropped the shift entirely, stepping towards the large basin to sink yourself in across from him. “But it seems like Yenn will escape that life too,” A green monster behind your eyes, “She’s important to you.”

“The djin.” He begins, “I don’t know why that was my last wish… I just…”

“You felt like she was your destiny.” A sad smile on your lips as you leaned over and grabbed the bar of soap beside the basin. “In an instant.” It was almost cruel. But he had to wonder,

“Why are you so jealous of her?” He watched you soap up one leg. “You’re just as beautiful, just as intelligent…”

“But alone.” He watches you dip your leg back under the water, switching to the other, “It wasn’t my choice to become a mage, but it was hers. She wanted this power. She wanted to ascend.”

“And you didn’t?” He watches your head loll to the side, resting your cheek on the side of the basin.

“I thought I did once,” His leg brushes against yours, your feet going into his lap, his hands caressing your calves. “But I thought once I ascended people would have to listen to me, that men would have to listen to me, but I just became… a toy. A pretty toy for men to play with.” You rub your foot on his thigh. “I don’t hate Yenn.” You admit, “She’s a good friend.”

“But you want what she has?” You give him a soft glare.

“Don’t get cocksure. I want someone to think I’m important to them,” You admit, “Doesn’t have to be you.” But you want it to be. A strange affection you had borne for him. It was too much, too open. Too raw. He tugged on your legs, pulling you through the water and to his lap, pressing his lips against yours. The meeting electric, hardening your nipples against his chest, his wet fingers burying themselves in your hair while his mouth consumed you. A soft moan like a prayer on his lips.

Your hand drifts down between you, stroking his growing length, hardening him under your gentle assault. His hand groping your ass, grinding your clit against his pubic bone. The rhythm simple, yet effective, his tongue parting your lips as you cum against him, his hand holding your mouth to his while you squirm. His cock found your entrance and bracing his feet against the bottom of the tub he presses himself into you. That burning stretch you remember making your eyes roll.

The water sloshes over the side of the basin as your hips meet, Geralt grunts as you roll your hips to meet his, your moans swallowed by his tongue. You’re brought over once more, his hand steadying your hips to grind your clit on his pubic bone, he lets you throw your head back, letting a loud moan rip from your throat as your legs begin to shake. He picks up a brutal pace, tugging on your hair and bringing your mouth back to his as you feel him release inside of you.

“Don’t tell me to leave,” He says, “Just don’t tell me to leave.” It is spoken into the column of your throat as he works his way through the aftershocks. It was too intimate. You back away. He is lost you. You step from the tub, leaving him in the grey water.

He watches you dry yourself and refuse to meet his eye. He sighs heavily, leaning his head back against the basin.

“You wouldn’t be so alone if you didn’t push everyone away.” It spills from his mouth before he could stop it. You glare at him; he could see your eyes grow wet. Fuck.

“It wouldn’t matter either way.” You wrap the dressing gown around your body, turning your back to him. He sees you look at a coin on your vanity and watches as you run your fingers across the surface. You sigh, “You know when I was a girl,” A harsh swallow, “You saved my village from a beast I hadn’t known existed.” You picked up the coin and turned to him, walking over to the basin where he stood from the water, your eyes locked with his. “Before you left, I placed myself beside your horse, trying to get a glimpse of an actual real-life Witcher.” He watched you move the coin between your fingers. “You gave me this, I was filthy and starving, and you gave me this coin.” You held it between your thumb and pointer finger, “And I’ve used it to call upon you twice now, but you can take it with the rest of your coin and those drowner heads as payment for relieving me of another problem and you can leave right now.”

“Y/N…” You drop the coin into the tub, it sinks down to his feet and he watches you crawl into your bed, facing away from him.

“Leave.”

tagged // @bookish-shristi @saturnki @jennmurawski13 @geeksareunique @the-soulofdevil @tinmunky @gifsbysimplysonia @alwaysbenhardysgirl @beck-alicious @msgeorgiarae

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher #henry cavill

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descendantofthesparrow · 4 years

Text

Remember your past Life - Prince! Harry Hook x Chosen Knight!Reader - part 18 - new adventures and discoveries

It was hard to sleep that night, tossing and turning in the stable beds, staring at Harry's face as he somehow was able to sleep that night.

You sighed, tossing the covers off and shoving on your boots, walking outside the Riverside stable to check on your horses.

(h/n) and mercury(Harry's Horse) grazed the grass, (h/n) head popping up as you approached, she let out a soft snort and trotted over to you, nuzzling her muzzle into your head, nickering happily.

“hey girl” you muttered softly, smiling up at the large mare.

Mercury looked at you, ears twitching before going back to eating the grass. You sighed, leaning into (h/n) side and gazing up at the stars, millions of thoughts running through your mind.

How were you going to do this? Was this really happening?

How would you protect Harry?

You rubbed your face, willing your mind to leave you alone.

“come on girl” you sighed, placing your hand on (h/n)s neck and leading her over to the stable where your riding gear was “let's go for a ride huh?” she let out a small nicker, eagerly hoofing the ground as she waited for you to saddle her up as you grabbed your gear.

You checked your watch, nodding at the time “Harry shouldn’t be up till 6 so we have four hours to kill” you muttered, pocketing your phone and lifting yourself onto (h/n), kicking your heels into her side, setting her off in a trot “we won't go too far though” you sighed, rolling your neck, feeling the hilt of your blade hit the back of your skull gently.

You snapped (h/n) reins, setting her off in a lope (loose canter/run for anyone who doesn’t know horse terms) towards the west path of the stable, letting her follow the trail.

You noted a couple of monster camps as you rode by, but the monsters inside didn’t seem to pay attention to you, dancing around their fires and “talking” amongst each other.

You ignored them and continued into the forest path, you grunted as a rock soared over your head, looking to your left you spotted an octopus-like creature popping out of the ground and spitting a large rock at you.

Instinctively you grabbed your shield and braced yourself, your arm swang out as it inched close to you and hit the rock with a loud ring of metal, shooting it back at the creature and killing it, grimacing as it let out a loud squeal, it then disappeared in a poof of purple and black smoke.

“ugly little thing” you muttered, attaching your shield on your back and nudging (h/n) forward again, the mare snorting and leading off in a lope again.

Minutes later you finally left the forest, sighing as you spotted two pig-like monsters riding horses, one had a bow and the other had a large wooded bat thing with spikes. “come on (h/n)” you muttered “let's see if we can outrun em hm?” (h/n) nickered and took off in a gallop at the kick of your heels. The red pig-beast noticed you and started screaming, forcing the poor horse it was on to chase after you and (h/n), swinging its bat in the air.

You groaned and decided to just end its miserable life, singing around on (h/n)s back and drawing your bow, nocking an arrow and carefully aiming for the beasts head. You swiftly released the arrow, smirking as it went right between its eyes, the beast falling from the horses back and disappearing in a cloud of smoke.

The spotted horse it was riding nickered and slowed down, breathing heavily as it finally got a chance to rest.

“poor thing” you muttered, watching as it disappeared behind the bridge as (h/n) continued on the path, you unhitched the sheikah slate from your hip and looked at the map, noting that there was a curve around to get back to the riverside stable “we’ll go for another hour, then head back” you sighed aloud, clipping the tablet back on your waist and snapping (h/n)s reins, laughing as she bolted down the path.

So you intend to let this…relic, follow you around hm?

King Killian, his father, stood above him, his matching ocean blue eyes staring down at him, the usual warmth in them long gone cold. He sat down in his throne, leaning on his hand.

“yes” Harry nodded, holding his hands tightly below his waist “after talking to Purah and Robbie, we thought it would be best” the king narrowed his eyes at him.

“I will remind you once again, above all else, your duty is of utmost importance…are we clear?” Harry swallowed down his retort, looking down at the floor, staring at the symbol of the kingdom on the large carpet.

“yes we are clear, I understand” Harry spoke loudly, doing his best to not let the catch in his chest reveal itself.” and I will honor my duty” his father didn’t speak anymore, simply nodding at him and waving him off.

Harry turned, ignoring the looks of the new knight that had stationed herself at his side and Uma. the midsized egg-shaped guardian hurried to follow him outside.

Harry took a shaky breath as he stepped outside the sanctum, shaking his head to rid himself of the dark thoughts that plagued his mind so often.

“your highness?” Uma asked, wary of calling her friend anything other than his title while being so close to the king “are you alright?”

“yes im fine” Harry snapped, his voice tight “Let's go” he stormed off, the egg-like a guardian and the new knight following after him. Uma sighed, looking back at the sanctum, glaring at where the king would be.

Killian had changed since Emma's death….and not for the better.

Harry snapped awake, sitting up in the straw bed as he breathed heavily “wha’ was tha’?” Harry muttered to himself, drawing his hands to his face to rub his cheeks, pausing as he felt wetness trailing down. “tears?” he gasped, drawing his hand back and raising his brows at the droplet of water trailed down his finger and dropped onto the sheet.

He stared at it for a moment, mind still running from the dream….no memory that had startled him awake.

He remembered Uma and (y/n) in the memory, the old man from the plateau-Killian, standing over him, on a balcony.

He didn’t like the feeling he got when he looked at the king.

Harry ran his fingers through his messy hair, glancing to where (y/n) was sleeping….or should’ve been sleeping. Harry's eyes widened, scrambling to get out of the bed, wildly looking around the stable to look for the (h/c) girl.

“something the matter son?” Harry whipped round to see one of the stable hands, shuffling through documents.

“um, the girl I came ‘ere with, where is she?” Harry babbled, sighing in relief as the man smiled at him and pointing out to the path outside the stable.

“she went out for a ride, supposed she couldn’t sleep, she told me to tell you that she would be back by 6” Harry sighed and nodded his thanks, flopping back on the bad and rubbing his face.

Moments later light footsteps walked towards him, a hand patting his knee “you’re already awake?” Harry perked up, seeing you staring at him with a soft expression.

“um-weird dream” Harry muttered, sitting up and rubbing his eye, pushing down the yawn that wanted to spill from his lips.

you hummed and nodded, crossing your arms “I got us some meat and other ingredients, I’ll make us some breakfast then well be heading towards one of the beasts, okay?”

“kay” Harry grunted, standing from the bed and grabbing his shoes, hopping as he slipped them on and kneeled back on the bed to tie them.

“We might stop by a village to get new clothes for you, I don’t think Evie's Auradon style stuff will last you here” you pinched Harry's shirt, stretching it toward you and letting it go, the thin fabric billowing against Harry's chest.

“Alright then….how bout Hateno?” Harry sounded out the village name “we could also go see that scientist that Regina was talking about?”

“mmm” you tapped your chin, nodding to yourself “that sounds good, im pretty sure Regina said there was a clothing store there, we need to start activating those shrine things as well, they could help us get across Saorsa quickly if needed….but we’ll think on that later, I’ll go make us breakfast kay?”

“kay” Harry muttered back, watching you walk back out of the stable/inn and to a cooking pot, opening a large leather bag next to it and sprinkling something into the steaming pot.

Harry sighed, grabbing his jacket from the hanger next to the bed and shrugging it on, grabbing his hook and sword and attaching them to his waist before joining you outside.

He sat on one of the small benches by the pot and watched you cook some eggs, rice, and meat, sprinkling some salt into the pot along with them.

He felt some drool pool in his mouth as the sent traveled across his nose, a grin slowly spreading on his face “that smells amazing (y/n)” he hummed, eyes sparkling as you laughed and grinning at him.

“Thanks, should be ready soon, can you go grab my bag from beside the bed? Should have some bouls and spoons in there”

Harry nodded and walked back into the inn half of the stable, digging into your bag, muttering “check” to himself as he felt the plastic of the bowls and spoons.

He perked up as your soft voice traveled by his ears, standing and rushing outside, he stopped as a large egg-like mechanical object stood at your feet, a little top on its head shooting up and down as it chirped at you “well hello there” you muttered, kneeling next to it and tilting your head “what are you?”

“i-I just saw tha’?” Harry muttered confused, pointing at the egg-like object “in meh dream?”

The egg turned to look at him, a shrill excited sounding note escaping it and it bolted towards him, running around his legs as it continued to let out bird-like noises.

“um-“ Harry stuttered, holding the bowls to his chest as he looked down at the obviously excited egg-thing. “i-I think it likes meh?”

“I think it does” you chortled, covering your mouth as it grabbed onto Harry's pant leg and tugged, continuing to sing at him. You stood and walked over to harry and the egg-thing, kneeling next to him and holding out your hand. It turned to you and chirped, leaning over and pressing the side of its head to your hand. “it seems to be friendly too”

“yeah…” Harry mumbled, continuing to stare down at the egg-thing “where did it come from though?”

You shrugged, raising your brows as one of its claws raised up and pointed at your hip, where the tablet was resting “I think it just answered your question Harry” you laughed, grabbing the tablet and holding it up, pursing your lips as the sheikah symbol appeared and the tablet started to glow without you activating it. “well its obviously sheikah, and possibly knew us from…back then, so now the only question, how’d it find us and where was it before it found us here?”

Harry just shrugged, stepping aside the egg-thing and walking over to the cooking pot and serving himself some breakfast.

He watched you mess with the egg-thing and tablet as he chewed the egg, rice, and meat meal. The egg thing looked around you and chirped, zooming over to him and batting at his shoes. “what the fuck does it want?” Harry huffed, pouting down at the thing.

“I think its just attached to you?” you guessed, standing and walking over to Harry, sitting down on the other bench and grabbing a bowl for yourself.

“but why?” Harry sighed, watching as the egg walked around the two of you, continuing to sing as it did so.

“dunno, the only thing I can think is that It knew us back then?” you suggested again, leaning on your hand, snorting as the egg continued to circle you and Harry “funny little thing though”

“I guess” Harry muttered, shoveling another spoonful of rice in his mouth.

-two hours earlier-

“uhhhhh what is that?” Mal pointed at the egg-shaped mechanic thing that ran between the students as if looking for someone as it chirped and shook its head.

Ben just shrugged, kneeling as it walked close to him, reeling back as he reached out and tried to touch it, he pouted, grunting as he continued to try to touch the egg-thing.

It chirped at him, spinning around and squealing as it caught sight of a pissed off Uma and Harriet, it chirped, running over to the girls and circling them.

“what in the actual fuck” Uma yelled, watching as the Egg looked up at her and chirped again, the top on its head moving along with its “voice” “is this thing and why is it looking at me-why is it following me?!” Uma started to walk away midsentence, the egg chirping and eagerly following after her.

“that would be the little guardian that followed the prince and his friends around, 500 years ago” Regina chuckled, smiling down at the egg as it chirped again and ran towards her “it was quite protective of the prince and his knight, I remember once it activated a dead guardian to save the two from a corrupted one.”

Uma stared down at the egg-thing, something was hitting the back of her mind, telling her that the egg-thing was familiar. But Uma ignored it, looking back up at Regina “do you think it could lead us to Harry and (y/n)?” the egg perked up at that, letting out a series of chirps and notes as It ran back to uma and circled her again “I think that’s a yes?”

I can't let them get mixed up in this mess again, I have to protect them

The mini guardian stopped as the prince's voice echoed through its “mind”, it looked towards the exit of the village and chipped, suddenly taking off and leaving the students behind.

“wait, stop!” Harriet yelled, running after the egg with Uma following her.

“hold up! You’re supposed to lead us to Harry!”

It soon ran out of sight, leaving Uma and Harriet at the edge of the village to catch their breath.

“l-l thought” Uma gasped, “I thought it agreed to take us to Harry and (y/n)”

“apparently not” Harriet snarled “seems we'll have to find em on our own” she twisted on her heel and stormed back into the village, leaving Uma to stare at the rising run over Saorsa.

“where ever you are Harry, (y/n)” Uma muttered, clutching onto her bead bracelet “please. Stay safe.”

-end of part 18-

if you cant tell, i played the age of calamity demo and got inspired lol

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#disney descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook descendants #descendants #Descendents #harry hook #harry hook imagine #remember your past life #botw crossover #age of calamity #the egg guardian #my new favorite character lol

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echoes-of-the-clockwork · 3 years

Text

Book Three: Pestilence (Ignis x Reader) Chapter Six

A couple of days have passed since the group's trip up the Rock of Ravatogh. They were currently back in Lestallum, heading toward the gas station on the main road. "Don't wanna keep Cid and Cindy waiting. They're fixin' up the boat as we speak," Gladio stated.

"We ought to thank them," Ignis said.

"Actually, Jared's the one we oughta thank."

"Yeah..." Prompto mumbled melancholically. "He really thought of everything."

Noctis and the others meet up with Iris at the Coernix Station, where she awaits them beside the Regalia. "Filled 'er up for ya!" She chanted when she turned and saw the group approaching.

"Thanks," Gladio said to his younger sister.

"So, um..." Prompto glanced around the large group. "How is this gonna work? There's six of us, but only five seats."

"Oh..." Iris mumbled in realization. "Maybe I should-"

(Y/n) quickly interrupted the young girl. "I've my own ride. Iris will ride in the backseat with Noctis and Gladio."

Gladio crossed his arms with a smirk. "More surprises for us?"

"More or less," she grins. Lifting her hand, she placed her fingers in her mouth and whistled. A cloud of smoke surrounded the group before dissipating. Standing a few feet in front of Pestilence was a horse.

Iris gasped, placing her hands over her mouth in shock. "How did you...?"

"This is Erra, my loyal steed. He will be my ride," (Y/n) exclaimed.

Gladio explained to his sister who the white-haired girl truly was while the horse meandered away from his rider and seemed to be attracted to Ignis. His hooves clicked against the pavement as he approached the strategist. Ignis wasn't fazed, more shocked than anything, as Erra sniffed the front of his dress shirt.

Pestilence watched with a giggly grin plastered on her face. "Seems you've caught his interest, Ignis."

Ignis stared into the white of Erra's eyes as he reached out a gloved hand slowly toward his muzzle. The horse stepped forward when it saw the advisor's hesitation and placed his muzzle against the man's hand with a joyous snort.

"Magnificent," Ignis gasped in wonderment as he petted the steed. Erra closed his eyes, enjoying every stroke of the tactician's fingers.

(Y/n) crossed her arms over her chest, popping out a hip. "What a greedy horse..." Erra heard his rider and his eyes opened. He trotted over to her and bumped his head against the side of hers, making the Horseman laugh. "Yes, yes. I know it's been a while, but I need your assistance now."

Erra bobbed his head up and down with a huff, nuzzling his snout against her cheek as a way to say he'll help. The Horseman scratched the top of his head with a smile.

After Gladio finished his explanation, Iris was in complete shock and stared at the ivory-haired girl with wide eyes. "No way..." She mumbled. "They're real? I thought the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were just a scary fairytale. Gladdy told me the tale about them a couple years ago."

"Those tales you speak of are falsified," (Y/n) stated. "Our true tale has yet to be written in the pages of any book."

"What's the real one?" Iris asked curiously.

***

Four souls were pulled from the four corners of Hell, gifted with abilities no human, god, nor daemon could comprehend. Each soul was given one of four aliases that accompanied their powers-War, Famine, Pestilence, and Death. Now dubbed the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by the Daemon King, Aeshema, they were sent to a world between the living and the dead known as the Inner Sanctum-a domain where the Four Horsemen would reside and keep order of the monsters who relish to break the seal preventing them from entering the world of the living and quenching their bloodlust.

With the seal preventing the monsters from escaping to the land of the living shattered, the Horsemen were tasked with traveling to the bustling world to hunt down the monsters that escaped and kill them before humans fell victim to their bloodlust. Once each Horseman slew their share of the monsters, they would be granted passage back to the Inner Sanctum.

Once the Four Horsemen reached the gateway and entered the portal, they arrived in the land of the living. Famine, Death, Pestilence, and War went their separate ways and disguised themselves as humans in order to walk among the living and hunt down the monsters incognito without startling the lives around them.

***

"It's shorter than I though it would be," the young Amicitia comments.

"That's because the story has yet to have a conclusion," (Y/n) grinned. "The final details are currently in the works as we speak."

"Wow," she gasped. "Does that mean all of us are a part of the story?"

Pestilence nodded. "Yes."

"That's cool and...a little scary."

"C'mon, ladies. Time to head out," Gladio called out to them.

Iris nodded with a joyous smile. "Let's get this show on the road!"

As the boys and Iris pile into the car, (Y/n) mounts Erra. She threads her fingers through his creamy mane and combs through a few knots. "All set?" She glanced down at the people in the car beside her.

"You bet," Noctis replied, looking up at her. "Think you can keep up?"

Erra scuffed his hoof against the asphalt in response, causing Pestilence to grin. "I should be the one asking you that question."

Ignis started the Regalia, the engine coming to life with a faint roar. Erra followed after the vehicle as it left the gas station and took off down the road away from Lestallum. Without needing guidance, the steed kept pace with the car, running beside it on the shoulder of the road.

From the corner of her eye, (Y/n) could distinctly catch a glimpse of the flash every time Prompto took a picture. While riding atop Erra, she could hear what the group was discussing. "Looking at the Regalia really reminds me of home," Iris said with a gentle smile.

"It sure doesn't look like any of the cars you see around here," Prompto points out.

"And it's a lot roomier, too! I can't imagine trying to cram five people, including Gladdy, into one of those things. Even just trying to squeeze Noct, (Y/n), and myself in the backseat would be difficult. Have you ever ridden in one?"

Noctis shook his head. "Can't say we have."

"There was barely enough room for our luggage! Thank goodness you guys could give me a lift."

"Think the others made it to Caem alright?" Gladio pondered.

"I suppose we'll find out when we get there," Ignis stated.

"I could check on them if you so desire," (Y/n) spoke up.

"Yeah, but how're we suppose to contact you?" Noctis asked. "Doubt you have a phone."

"The orb," she replied, grabbing Ignis' attention. "It's not just an artifact. It's a summoning device. Hold it in your palm and call my name. I'll be at your side within mere seconds." Their eyes briefly met before the advisor had to refocus his gaze on the road ahead to avoid crashing.

"It's okay, (Y/n)!" Iris shouted. "I'd rather have you along for the ride. It's nice having another girl around to talk to!"

Pestilence smirked at the young Amicitia before turning her gaze forward. She was about to respond but was interrupted by a roaring engine above. Glancing up, her eyes narrowed when she spotted an enormous ship flying overhead.

Gladio clicked his tongue with a groan. "Oh, great. Another flying fortress."

"You've encountered such a ship before?" (Y/n) asked.

"Indeed," Ignis replies. "Let's pull over."

"Noct..." Iris mumbled in worry, glancing at the young prince to her left.

"Relax," the raven-haired boy soothes her. "We've got this."

The royal retinue, Iris, and (Y/n) soon come upon Old Lestallum. Ignis pulls over and parks the Regalia in front of the motel. "Taking matters into hand?"

"Delivering justice for Jared," Noctis declares, climbing out of the vehicle alongside his companions.

"And for Talcott, too," Prompto adds.

The bodyguard eyed his little sister as she exited the backseat and walked toward the motel. "Iris, I'll need you to wait here."

She nodded in response. "Alright." She looked toward the (e/c)-eyed girl, wondering if she was going to tag along. "Are you going with them, (Y/n)?"

"We require her assistance," Ignis answered before said girl could. "Our apologies, Iris."

She shook her head. "It's fine. Just be careful out there-all of you."

The royal advisor reverted his gaze back to the prince. "Careful, Noct-only fools rush in. I suggest we review our intelligence and devise a plan."

Noctis agreed with him and placed a whistle in his mouth. Blowing into it, four chocobos came charging up the highway, answering the call. They skidded to a stop in front of the gas pumps a few feet from Erra and (Y/n). "Let's go!" The azure-eyed boy hopped onto the turquoise-feathered bird while the others mounted the remaining three chocobos.

The four chocobos, along with Erra, took off down the road and left the limits of Old Lestallum. They rode across the bridge and toward Fort Vaullerey. "Surprised to see 'em this far out," Noctis commented as they searched for a vantage point.

"Leave no plot of land unconquered," Prompto retorts.

"Those aren't conquering numbers," Gladio tells the photographer.

"Likely building a supply line it would behoove us to cut," Ignis stated.

They rode up the side of a hill around the side of the cement walls, spotting soldiers and machines patrolling the area around the fort. (Y/n) gestured to a watchtower located near one of the walls. "A perfect spot to devise a plan. With a view of the innards of the fort, constructing a plan will be a cinch."

"How're we suppose to get around the guards and the massive machines?" Prompto asked.

"If we attack, all eyes fall upon us and our plans of infiltration will be disrupted." (Y/n) hops off Erra and pats his side. "Be a dear and cause a distraction." The horse nods and takes off toward the prowling enemies.

Ignis, seeing the Horseman was without a ride, offered her a lift on his chocobo. She accepted his kindness and mounted the white-feathered creature with his help. The saddle was a little cramped, but it wouldn't be long before the two would have to dismount and head in on foot. She wrapped her arms around his waist as he tugged in the reins, urging the large bird to follow after his companions.

Feeling her arms around him caused his heart to race, threatening to burst through his ribcage and out of his chest. Never in his life has he ever been so conscious of a girl until he met (Y/n). Their conversations were full of meaning and never had Ignis felt such a deep connection with the opposite sex before meeting her. Though he has only known the Horseman for a week, he would be lying if he said their newly developed bond wasn't already on a much deeper level than he had anticipated.

Whenever Ignis thought of Pestilence, all he could imagine were their lengthy chats, her kindness, and the haunting images the nightmare that has infested his mind during his sleep plagued him with. For the past few days, the images became clearer and clearer. He could make out names and where the nightmare took place. He wanted to ask her about such gruesome imagery, but he felt it would be prying into something with much more deeper meaning than he could grasp. Every time he heard her hoarse, begging tone, he desperately would try to save her from plummeting to her death, but everything he did was all in vain.

"Ignis?" (Y/n) called out to him. He blinked a few times with a small 'hmm' before realizing they had reached a point where the chocobos refused to pass. She unwound her arms from around his waist and hopped off the bird. "Are you alright? You seem to have been deep in thought."

"Yes," he responds in a low voice, dismounting the chocobo.

Pestilence knew he was lying by the look in his eyes, but she zipped her lips and decided not to pry. "Shall we? The others have already rushed ahead."

The strategist nodded and followed the others up a stairwell, eliminating a couple of soldiers before trekking up the stairs leading to the watchtower. Noctis tugged at his bangs and glanced at the two latecomers. "What were you two doin'?"

"Chatting," (Y/n) responded.

"A.K.A. flirting," Gladio grinned playfully.

The Horseman placed a hand on her hip and stared disapprovingly at the brute. "I've no clue as to why you think we're "flirting" nonstop, but not once have we exchanged intimate words. Hold your tongue, Gladiolus."

"Ooh," Prompto snickered. "She didn't use your nickname, big guy. (Y/n)'s got a sassy side to her!"

The Horseman rolled her eyes with a frown. Noctis cleared his throat, grabbing everyone's attention. "So, what's our plan?"

Ignis, mentally thanking the prince for changing the subject, spoke. "Find the base commander and take him into custody. Targeting metal men will yield little in the way of reconnaissance, but bones bend easily. We'll split into two groups of two. Prompto and Gladio will generate a diversion. (Y/n) will accompany us in procuring the commander."

Prompto hooked his fingers through the belt loops of his pants and grinned. "Aw, yeah-making a scene is what I do best."

"A spark of confidence is all it takes," (Y/n) states.

Ignis adjusted his glasses, glancing between the interior of Fort Vaullerey and the raven-haired boy. "Noct, are you prepared?"

Noctis met his advisor's determined gaze with his own unwavering one. "Let's do this."

#ffxv x reader #ffxv #final fantasy xv x reader #final fantasy xv #ignis x reader #ignis scientia #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #Noctis Lucis Caelum

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aurelacs · 4 years

Text

Ten of Wands

An Ezra/F!OC Red Dead Redemption AU

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

CONTENT: mentions of spousal abuse, ezra is doing his best

A/N: Howdy! This one’s going to be a little short because I sort of dug myself into a hole, but next chapter will be longer! I said this would be a slow burn :). And I have Plans :)).

This is set in the Red Dead Redemption universe, however there’s no spoilers for either game, and you don’t need to have prior knowledge of the games to understand the fic. I’m just using RDR for the setting and the time period (1899). Hope you enjoy!

chapter list | masterlist | read on AO3

II. The Tower

Ezra was intolerable.

His proclivity for talking mindlessly grated against Annie’s ears, who had grown so used to her mostly wordless self and husband. Even before she married, she was never one to speak much. Their first afternoon and night together was spent listening to him speak cryptically about the so-called “dealings” he had in the towns on the way to Armadillo. He spoke in code about certain men he needed to speak with, small jobs, some of which he called “ harmless errands,” as if that had any meaning to her. She couldn’t figure out when he took the chance to breathe. What all made it worse was Ezra’s incessant need to pry. Even though she did her best to pay attention, he still broke through. Her name, her life, what she was doing in Valentine, did she live in Valentine, how it was strange to meet a woman who was unmarried. Every question stung, dug a little deeper, until it felt like a hole torn in her sternum. For the time being, her one worded answers sufficed, but she could tell he was getting antsy.

The one dealing he was upfront with was an apparent debt collection he had in Blackwater. It felt nearly unacceptable to Annie. Blackwater wasn’t too far off course, but it was enough that it made her worry about bounty hunters catching either of their scents. Ezra assured her they wouldn’t be there long, but for Annie it felt as empty as every other word he had said since they reached the camp.

Annie hoped to find respite from Ezra as they settled in for the night, only to be greeted by the fact that he even spoke in his sleep. Nowhere near the winded soliloquies like when he was awake, but enough that it kept her awake well into the evening. There would be periods of silence long enough where she believed herself to be safe, and he would start up again. His words were never coherent; mindless babbles that effortlessly escaped through his pursed lips and furrowed brow. The light from the fire reflected against the curious patch of blonde hair that sat above his right temple. It wasn’t until what felt like hours after Ezra had first settled in for the night that Annie’s eyes grew too heavy to keep open, and she fell asleep.

Ezra wasn’t at camp when Annie woke up the next morning. She half expected all of his belongings to have disappeared with him, but when she rose to check, she saw his bedroll still laid out under his tent. She splashed some cool water from the river on her face to wake her up further before reigniting the fire that went out during the night.

“It is always nice to be in the company of another early-riser like myself.” Ezra’s voice was accompanied by the sound of gentle hoof steps as he led his horse closer to the camp. Two rabbit carcasses hung from the back of his saddle. His plan for the day, he said while unhooking the rabbits and beginning to cook them over the fire, was to head to Strawberry to take care of his first “errand.” The town was a couple hours west in the right direction. Annie didn’t feel the need to state her objections just yet. Ezra, for the time being, was the rope that could pull her out of the mire. With as deep as she found herself, she had little other choice. He pulled Annie out of her thoughts and urged her to eat, eager to make their way. He spoke fondly of Strawberry as he ate, like heaven and earth moved to accommodate the river town. He told her she wouldn’t believe how clean it was compared to Valentine.

“When the sun reaches its peak, it reflects upon the river like a luminous sapphire. It makes the entire town shine a blue the likes of which you have never seen, I assure you.” Ezra refused to stop speaking about it even as they packed up and began their journey. Annie quickly tuned him out. This was the furthest west she had ever been, even if the scenery had barely changed. The greenery felt more lush, the dirt of the road seemed to sink under the horse’s hooves differently. She wanted to take everything in as the threat of never seeing it again loomed over her. The thought gripped at her chest, ate at her to the point where she wanted to scream as though it was the only way to release the building energy.

It was hard to balance herself on the back of Ezra’s horse without touching him in some way. It felt inappropriate to grip her arms around his waist as the Belgian Draft wobbled along the worn path, but not holding on at all threatened to see her fall off entirely. Her cheeks warmed unpleasantly at the thought of putting her hands on another man while she was married, even if it was solely for practical reasons. Even if she was no longer married. Annie let out a beleaguered sigh and wrapped her arms around Ezra, minding to keep as much of her body away from his. If he noticed her awkward position, or that she was holding on in the first place, he didn’t remark on it.

“So, little bird, why do you need to get to Armadillo?”

Annie hesitantly remained silent. The question sent a small pang of fear down her spine, further adding to the tightness in her chest. Her bounty poster still sat folded and tucked into the satchel that hung across her body. Had he looked while she slept? She had given him so little the day prior that perhaps he felt the need to check for himself, and asking her now was just a test of how honest she would be for the rest of their time together.

“I heard there was a ranch nearby there that was hiring.”

Ezra turned his head to look at her and smiled affirmatively. “I do not know where the MacFarlanes find enough money to maintain their operation but there they are. The ranch is like a town within itself. I’m sure they’ll have something for you.” He paused for a moment. “If not, there are always plenty of general stores to rob.” Annie could feel his back shake as he chuckled at his own joke. She had the urge to smack him, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to knock the derby hat off his head and into the mud below them.

“As I mentioned earlier, we are stopping in Strawberry because of a small enterprise I have that involves the post officers of this fine country. After I speak with him, we can be on our way to Blackwater.”

“I don’t see why we need to stop in Blackwater. It’s out of the way and I don’t want to give the b-... posse from Valentine more time to find us.”

“We have already crossed into West Elizabeth, the meager posse of a shithole of a town is not going to bother crossing state lines to look for a man that robbed a shopkeep of fourteen dollars. Unless it’s not just the posse about which we have reason to be concerned,” he laughed. Annie stayed silent.

Ezra pulled the reins on his horse to signal it to stop. Dread flooded Annie’s body once more. It wasn’t the volume at which Ezra held his voice, but his tone. It paralyzed her to the point where he had to pry Annie’s arms off of his waist to hop off and look up at her as she sat, frozen. The tone meant hurt. It meant anguish and run and cower. But nothing of that nature followed the tone as he paced silently back and forth a couple steps away, his hands resting on his waist.

“Little bird, I have been more than forthcoming with my information and backstory and I do not find it to be fair that you have since chosen to give me absolutely nothing.”

“Stop calling me little bird.” It was all she could muster.

Ezra’s voice softened as he approached. His question was hushed, like he didn’t want his horse to hear, like speaking it any louder would cause the truth he didn’t want to acknowledge emerge out of her so harshly that she would break. “Do we need to be concerned about more than a posse?”

“No.” Annie’s voice shook as the word fell from her throat. She didn’t know why he insisted on pressing the matter when they both made it clear that they didn’t want to accept whatever truth Annie was hiding, though hers was far deeper than she knew Ezra could anticipate.

“I am not getting back on that horse until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

Annie was on the verge of tears as she reached into her satchel to pull out her bounty poster, still undisturbed. She handed it to Ezra and refused to make eye contact as he scanned over it. She focused above his eyes: his eyebrows, his forehead, the blonde patch that continued to poke out beneath the brim of his hat. His laughter rang through her ears.

“Do you really expect me to believe that you are a murderer?”

Annie looked at him sheepishly. If only she were able to project the image of her husband into Ezra’s mind. Blood pooling, chest open, dozens of pellets boring small holes into the wall and stairs. Would he be able to feel her fear? Tears did pour as the horrid sight refused to leave her mind despite how hard she pushed it. She jumped when Ezra reached out to gingerly touch her leg in comfort.

“Would you like to get down?”

“No. Can we please just keep going?”

He nodded his head silently and hopped back on. Ezra was quiet the rest of the ride, and Annie didn’t want to admit how much, in that moment, she needed his speech.

Strawberry didn’t quite live up to Ezra’s proclamations, but Annie couldn’t deny that it was pretty. And it certainly was nicer than Valentine. The town was built around the river, framed with elevated water flumes that ran from the mine above it. Each building was made from the same dark wood, giving it a sense of uniformity and quaintness that Valentine lacked with its painted siding. The roads were still dirt but miraculously weren’t muddy. Some spots even had flowers growing along the banks. Ezra hitched his horse on a post outside of a depot.

“I need to stop in here for a minute. If you’d like, up this road is the hotel. You do not seem up for much more traveling today.”

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Ezra was right. It was hard to allow the thought that he could possibly read her, even as well as her husband. Annie had overheard people in Valentine speak about the hotel. The mayor apparently wanted Strawberry to become a tourist destination for visitors of West Elizabeth and spared no expense for the hotel and town surrounding. As Ezra disappeared into the depot, Annie made her way up the incline. Her feet itched to make their way to the sheriff’s office to see if her poster was hung here as well, but resisted the urge. The act begged attention, and it’s possible this sheriff kept his notice board inside the office, which beckoned its own set of problems.

The best word Annie could muster for Strawberry’s hotel was ‘cozy.’ It was dimly lit with oil lanterns and from the light outside that filtered in through the windows. A gentleman stood by the front desk in a full suit, hands clasped behind his back. He greeted her with a “madame” as she walked in. The action nearly floored her. The man gestured over to a small board that listed the services the hotel offered and the prices: bed and bath, both a dollar each. Annie paused. It seemed foolish, overindulgent, to spend money on a bath, but her bones ached something unknown deep into the marrow that acted as a lure to drag Annie’s hand into her satchel, and dig out two dollars.

The bath room was upstairs on the right side of a landing, directly next to one of the two bedrooms the hotel housed. Steam had already begun to gather on the windows from the copper tub situated directly in the middle of the room. It also held a small cabinet with fresh towels, and a small table littered with tinctures and labeled vials. Annie stared at them all, taken aback by the sheer amount of oils they had, some of which she had never heard of. She poured in the one that simply read ‘rose’ and slunk into the scalding water.

Annie could have fallen asleep right there, enshrouded in the warm water and cradled by the heat of the tub. She dunked herself under and stayed there, letting it wrap around her over and over until she needed a breath. It was tempting. The warmth of the bath, the extended moments of privacy, the lock on the door, all called to her an enchanting song that coaxed her hand from down her sternum, to her belly, to the bundle of nerves at her core, when someone knocked.

“How about some company, honey,” a sugar sweet voice rang out from behind the door. A woman paid by the hotel to accompany the weary travelers who stumbled in. It wasn’t for her.

Even with the embarrassment creeping up her chest, Annie still managed to stay in the bath until long after the water went cold. It had been months since a proper bath, and she didn’t want to leave. When she left the bathroom, she checked three times to make sure no one was on the landing or coming up the stairs before making her way into her room in her towel. The bed took up most of the small room and Annie shed her towel and sank far into the covers with no regard for sleeping clothes or anyone walking in.

Her dreams that night were of her, naked, surrounded by darkness, a nameless figure with a blonde patch of hair buried between her legs.

Tag List: @immundusspiritu, @borderlinedindjarin, @aforces

#ezra prospect #pedro pascal #my fic

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marvel-redemption-omega · 4 years

Text

Of Outlaws and Family

Chapter Three: We Make a Good Team

A/N: Hello! I’m editin each chapter before I post them to do a final sweep an make sure it’s all good an not too screwy. Here is where we see Arthur an Scarlet’s dynamics as a team an some more of her personality!

Warnings: Cursing, typical gang violence, dangers of horse riding/breaking, sexual references/innuendos

Please enjoy! Hearts and repubs are appreciated!

My work is not to be posted elsewhere; I will post it to my AO3 and dA if I so choose.

Word Count: 8,432

Read from the beginning: https://marvel-redemption-omega.tumblr.com/post/620167374619951104/of-outlaws-and-family-chapter-one-new-beginnings

Previous: https://marvel-redemption-omega.tumblr.com/post/620241723748155392/of-outlaws-and-family

James and Jack are two of the first to be up and about. James takes it upon himself to teach Jack about some of the birds that are perching in the trees near camp. The younger boy is enthralled and asks lots of questions that James can mostly answer. Abigail and Arthur are the next two to begin roaming camp. Arthur watches the boys while Abigail wakes John and the other females. She comes to fetch her son once most of the camp is up. James shyly approaches Tilly and Arthur can hear him asking if she’ll teach him how to play dominoes as good as she does. He chuckles and shakes his head as he makes his way to Scarlet’s wagon. He hasn’t seen her yet, figuring she was still asleep.

“Scarlet? Miss O’Hara?” He calls when he sees two empty sleeping bags. He circles the wagon and sighs at the lack of her. James spots Arthur and catches his eye, waving him over.

“Ma’s over there,” he says, pointing to the hitching posts with Fancy and Smoke. Shamrock’s lying beside his mother, tucked nearly under her hooves, but the mare doesn’t seem to mind. Scarlet is between Smoke and Fancy, brush running over the mustang as Smoke sniffs at Scarlet’s back and nudges her. Arthur nods and thanks James before making his way over to them. Smoke nickers as he nears.

“Who’s a good girl? Huh? You are, my sweet girl. Such a good girl. You like gettin brushed an pets, don’tcha girl?” Scarlet baby talks her horse, laughing as Fancy bobs her head, her mane bouncing and falling into her eyes. “Yeah, that’s mah good girl.”

“Do you do this every mornin?”

“Shite!” She jumps at the new voice.

Scarlet tries to catch the brush before it hits the ground, but fails. She shoots a mock glare at Arthur as she bends down and snatches up the muddy brush. He chuckles and holds his hands up. He moves to his horse and strokes his nose.

“Yeah. I brush them both out in the morning an usually in the evenin too. Shamrock’s already done, he’s just an ass an prefers to be dirty,” she says the last part to the horse, which he flicks his ears back at her to show he’s listening. As if to prove her point, he rolls away from Fancy, wallowing in the dirt. “Smartass.”

“They’re quite the characters you have. Your boys are at least,” Arthur comments, patting Smoke’s neck and offering him a beet. He happily eats it and shakes his neck and head with a whinny.

“They’ve got flare with attitude to boot, no doubt. This old girl is my rock though. Fast, reliable, an sturdy. She can do all terrain an loves to race, even the wild horses we pass. I’m pretty sure she had her own herd when she was younger,” Scarlet admits and puts the brush on the post for later use. Fancy nibbles at her shoulder and nudges her. “Alright already, knock it off.” She digs in her pocket and gives Fancy a sugar cube for being so good for her.

“You ready? We might have a long ride ahead of us.”

“Gimme a sec, lemme talk to James before we go. I also wanna stop and see Shasta. I’ll need my saddle off him too. Can’t ride Fancy bareback for long with her age.” She agrees and ducks under the hitching post to meet her son. They talk for a moment before James wraps his arms around her and she brushes her hands through his brown hair. Arthur watches as she leans down and kisses his forehead and gently pushes him towards Abigail who is beckoning him, Jack calling for him. The two women exchange a short conversation and Scarlet nods with a laugh at whatever Abigail says before they wave and she’s making her way back to him.

“Good?”

“Yeah. Abigail asked if I could get something for her on our way back. Told her I would since she’s doin me a huge favor and watchin James. You ready? I’ll ride Fancy to the stable, we can get her saddled and I’ll check on Shasta then we can get goin,” she suggests and joins him between the two horses. Shamrock climbs to his feet and lowers his head under his mother’s neck, nibbling on Scarlet’s sleeve. “No, Sham. You’re staying here,” she pulls her arm away from him. He snorts at her and paws the ground. Fancy turns and nips his ear, making him yank his head back with a whine.

“Looks like your momma said no too, Shamrock,” Arthur unties Smoke from the post and tosses the reins over his head before climbing in his saddle.

“Sounds like it. Stay, Sham. You’ll be fine. Stay and watch James,” Scarlet tries to reason and the golden chestnut looks at the boy before nickering. “Good boy. I’ll bring you back some hay,” she praises and uses the post to climb on Fancy’s back. “Let’s ride.”

They ride in silence, each enjoying the sounds of nature. Their horses thunder along the beaten and worn path, side by side. Scarlet loosely holds to Fancy’s mane, moving in sync with the mare. Arthur adjusts his hat over his eyes, one hand on the reins and his other relaxed and hanging by his side.

They reach Valentine’s stable and she hops off Fancy, greeting the stable hand who leads her inside. Arthur leans forward in his saddle, arms crossed against the horn.

“We had to tie him to the fence to get his shoe back on and we checked the other three. He’s good to go, but he is grumpy. He’s been fed and watered and I took his saddle off last night. It’s in the tack room. Were you wanting to take him with you?” Scarlet pats the stall door the worker points out as Shasta’s and shakes her head at his question.

“No. I’ll take my saddle. If it’s alright I’m gonna leave him stabled for a bit. I’ll come by later this evening to check on him. I’ll probably need to ride him and wind him down for y’all,” she answers and coaxes the upset buckskin to her. He snorts and nips at her hand before nuzzling his face against her chest, blowing air out his nose on her. “Eww, gross. Punk, behave. Don’t you feel better now that you’re not missing a shoe? You be nice to these nice men and behave yourself. No trouble, ya hear?”

He tosses his head as if answering yes to her, head pulled up to stand his full height. He paws the dirt, knocking the bottom of the door with his hoof. Scarlet holds her hand out and he sniffs at it, nibbling until she slips a cube into his mouth. He neighs happily and nuzzles his head against her again, ears forward.

“Good boy. I’ll be back later for you,” she promises and kisses his nose before following the stable owner to get her saddle. He pulls it off the post and hands it to her upon her request.

“Do you have your horse here? We can get them in here so it’s easier,” he offers but Scarlet brushes it off.

“No thank you. She’s just outside with a friend. I’d rather not get her riled up just yet. I have a long journey ahead of me. We’re riding to Annesburg,” she says as she adjusts the weight of the saddle to get a better hold on it. She’s not sure if it’s a complete lie, but she doesn’t know which direction north of Valentine the horses were. The males whistle.

“That is quite a ride. Why not take the train? Or even the stagecoach?”

“Ahh, I’ve got several stops to make along the way. Easier for me to ride my horse than have to get off and wait for the next train. Plus it’s free,” she chuckles at their reactions. “Thank you again. He should be good until I get back. If he starts getting antsy and pawing at the ground or his door, just turn him out to the corral and I’ll get him.”

“Umm, you sure about that Miss? People are always looking to steal good horses, especially fast ones.”

“Oh don’t worry. My horses won’t allow anyone but me to ride them,” she grins at them, nodding as they open the doors for her.

She easily saddles Fancy as Arthur makes a trip to the post office. She’s hauling herself up as he comes trotting up to her, letter in hand. She raises a brow but he puts it in his side pouch.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah. You meet up with the guy at the saloon?”

“Yep. Said he’ll lead us to his guys that are trying their hand at breaking them.”

“So despite already failing, they all wanna try again? Great. How many horses?”

“About seven I think he said. I think they got a whole herd. Think we can break them?”

“Hah! I know I can, can you, Old Man?” She teases and turns Fancy to look at Arthur. He smiles and tips his chin to the saloon.

“Just who do you think broke the horses we use for our wagons?”

“I was thinking John. Maybe Dutch. Lord knows Micah would get thrown so fast. Same with Uncle and Bill,” she snorts in laughter as they walk to the saloon, horses in step.

“Very funny, Miss O’Hara. I didn’t know you were a comedian.”

“Ah well, Mr. Morgan, I’m just full of surprises.” She winks at him as they pull the reins to stop their horses. They wait in the saddles as the man Arthur talked to earlier meets them and climbs onto his Suffolk Punch.

“You two have warmer clothes? It’s known to get cold where we’re going,” the man warns. Arthur nods and pats his saddle bag. They turn to Scarlet who shakes her head no.

“Never went north. Prefer the heat of the south,” she excuses her lack of warmer clothing.

“Well, come on then. Can’t have you freezing on me. The store’s this way. Get you a coat and we’ll get on.” Arthur knocks her leg with his as they follow the man to the store. “I’ll wait out here.”

“Come on, Scarlet. Let’s get you something warm,” Arthur sighs as he slides off Smoke and offers his hand to help her down. They enter the store and Arthur stands off to the side as she browses the catalog, asking about the warmest jacket and pants they have and something else he can’t quite make out. He busies himself at the hat rack, looking over the different sizes and styles. The clerk ushers the pair to the changing spot at the back.

“This is the warmest we have. Wolf lined,” the clerk passes them to her. She thanks him and tries on the coat. It fits a bit big but she likes it so she sets it aside. She stares at Arthur, clearing her throat. He locks eyes with her and they stare at each other for a moment.

“Mr. Morgan,” she prompts, tilting her chin up slightly in gesture for him to step back so she could change pants.

“Oh. Right. Here,” he pulls the curtain closed and stands with his back to the makeshift changing room. He hears her shuffling and the curtain reopen.

“Whatcha think?” He turns to face her at the sound of her voice.

“They look warm. How do they fit?”

“Mm, not too loose. The fur helps. I’m sure they’ll work. It’ll get hot too once we start breaking the horses,” she agrees and runs a hand over the soft fur. “Alright, I’ll change into these when we get close. No need to sweat unnecessarily.” With that, she closes the curtain to change back and he walks back over to the hat rack. Scarlet finds him looking over them all, grinning when he spots her.

“Hey you,” he calls, picking up a black cowboy hat. It resembles his, just missing the strings he has around his.

“What’re you doing? That’s the children’s hats. You thinkin bout gettin one for Jack?”

“No. Not Jack.”

“James?”

He laughs softly and shakes his head.

“No, not James either.”

Scarlet raises a brow in question before he plops the hat on her head, minding her braid. He adjusts it until it’s sitting right and he nods. She scowls for a moment but it’s gone when he turns her to look in the mirror. Her green eyes widen at the sight, almost fully outfitted like a female gunslinger.

“Consider it a welcome to the gang gift,” he shrugs and declines her protests of his payment. The clerk smiles at them, ringing up the total.

“Ah how it must be, to be young and in love. You make a very cute couple,” he comments offhandedly as he hands Arthur his change. Both of them freeze and stare at him, pointing at the other.

“We’re not together! We’re just friends,” they announce, looking at each other with curiosity at their unison.

“If you say so,” the clerk shrugs, picking up a rag to wipe down his counter. “Best of luck where you’re headed.” They leave the shop, both a bit red in the face at the clerk’s blunt assumption.

“Alright, we’re ready. Let’s ride,” Scarlet suggests after she puts her new gear away on the back of her saddle, hat still on her head where Arthur put it.

They follow the rancher, says he goes by Jim, out of Valentine and east for a bit. Smoke and Fancy are both worked up, chomping at the bit for a chance to go faster than a gallop. Scarlet and Arthur share a look, both inwardly groaning that Jim has a Suffolk and not a race breed. They know their horses would leave him without care.

They pass through Emerald Ranch and cut a path more north east, taking a less worn trail. It’s a bit of a ride. When they start climbing into the mountains, Scarlet spots a few people up on a ridge, watching them. She notes by their clothes to be natives. She makes a mental note to ask about a tribe or reservation in the area when they get back.

They stop for a quick food break, the rancher offering some extra bread rolls he had. Arthur and Scarlet each take one, Arthur offering oregano game and Scarlet offering various canned fruits.

When she’s done eating she leads Fancy to a nearby river and lets her drink and wade around to cool off for a few minutes. The mustang paws violently at the water, braying as it splashes her chest and belly. Scarlet laughs at her and joins her, rubbing water down the mare’s legs. She nickers and leans down for another drink.

“She doing a’right?” Arthur’s got Smoke’s reins in hand and Jim isn’t far behind. Scarlet looks up to them and nods, patting her neck.

“Yeah, just figured she could use some water and cool down time before we head out. It’s only gonna get hotter from the looks of it. Doesn’t feel like rain this afternoon, maybe tonight but not soon,” she hums and scoops water into her hand, running it along Fancy’s stomach.

“It isn’t too much farther. We’re passed the Wapiti Reservation and in the mountains. There’s some inclines here and there but otherwise it’s pretty straight forward from here,” Jim announces, reaching the river with his horse in tow. “With any luck You two can break these guys enough for my men to ride a few back and have the others on leads.”

“Yeah, hopefully. Just when they’re broke, make sure you let others ride them. You don’t want them getting used to just one person on them unless they’re going to be for personal use. If you don’t, and you try to let someone else ride them when they’ve only known you and your weight, the horse will buck them off,” she advises and rubs water on Fancy‘s nose. Arthur rubs Smoke down with water too as he drinks.

“I take that’s from personal experience?”

“Kind of. My Ma broke this one's son,” she pats Fancy, “and since we’re about the same build I could ride him. When my cousin tried, he was thrown cause we were the only ones who bothered to ride and spend time with him. He even threw my uncle, despite knowing him well enough.”

“I like to think that a horse knows if you really care about it or not,” Arthur says, back in the saddle. Smoke walks around the water, pawing at it every now and then. Fancy looks at them and nickers, nudging Scarlet.

“Alright, alright. Let’s go then,” she mutters and pulls herself into her saddle. “Ready when you are, Jim.”

“This way.” They turn their horses and head back on the trail.

Jim was right, it wasn’t much farther. The mountains level off where they are and opens into a spacious clearing. A tall corral stands with several men surrounding it. Some on horseback, the rest on the top fence post. As they approach, Arthur and Scarlet can hear the whinnies and shrieks of the horses in the pen.

“Is this the man who thinks he’s gonna be able to break your horses, Jim?” A snide comment from one of the men. Scarlet side eyes him as she trots passed, letting Fancy circle around the pen. She slips off her mustang and starts undoing her saddle, letting it drop on the outside of the fence.

“Let her in there. She’ll calm them down and then we can get started,” Scarlet instructs as she moves the saddle. Fancy puts her head between the wooden posts and sniffs at the closest horse. He startles slightly but doesn’t back away from the mare. He tosses his head and neighs at her. She nickers back and swishes her tail.

“You sure it’s wise to open the gate?”

“You want these horses broken or not? The easiest way is letting my mare go in there, settle ‘em down, an then have myself a my partner here go in an break’em,” she snaps and turns to glare at the same man who had made the rude comment about Arthur. She turns back to Jim and raises a brow, arms crossed and brow raised in challenge.

“What are you waiting for? You heard the lady! Open the gate!” He hollers at his men who stumble over themselves to get the gate open and form a line on either side of the opening as a makeshift corral in case any horses escape.

Fancy snorts and flattens her ears as a couple men take a step too close to her, reeling back when they take notice of her, and she trots in on her own accord. They close the gate behind her and watch in awe as she -more or less- prances up to the rebellious stallion, leader of the herd. He goes to rear but she beats him to it and uses her forelegs to kick him. He startles and drops back down, backing up to the fence as she approaches again. He bows his head to her this time, nickering and bobbing his head submissively. Smoke stands behind the stallion, just on the other side of the fence, watching the scene with perked ears. He lets out a snort and moves to see Arthur.

“Did she just-”

“Essentially, she just told him “I’m boss, you listen to me or get your ass beat”. She’s good at what she does,” Scarlet offers at the questioning looks and murmurs of astonishment.

“Well, I’ll be- She might be old but she’s still got fire, ain’t she?” Arthur whistles low at the sight. The stallion stands nearly two hands taller than Fancy but he had submit without much of a fight. Scarlet just smiles and nods as she clambers up onto the top fence post to sit.

“Yeah. I don’t think she was ever fully broke, just bonded, yanno? But she’s loyal as they come an she’s fast too. Even as a broody mare,” she laughs. She surveys the pen, counting eight horses; Fancy included. “Alright. There’s seven horses that need breakin. Arthur, you want three or four?”

“Don’t much matter to me. If one is hard to break we can both have a go at it. Or whoever isn’t as worn out,” Arthur suggests as he joins her at the fence, though he leans on his arms on the top frame. Smoke nudges his owner and is rewarded with nose rubs.

“That will work too I guess. Ok. Mr. Jim, I need you and your men to help us separate these horses. The corral y’all have here is big enough to section them in small fenced areas and leave a wide enough range to still break one or two on one end,” Scarlet motions to the end where Fancy is herding them from. The mare tosses her head and begins a trot that the others closely follow, the old leader behind her. Jim barks orders to his men, telling them that they are to mind anything she and Arthur tell them as far as the horses and corral go.

“Let’s see if Fancy will still do this,” she mutters to herself, taking a deep breath. She lets it out in a whistle that jumps in pitch halfway through as she moves her tongue. Fancy’s ears, along with the herd’s, shoot up. The bay mustang snorts and breaks into a gallop, bringing the horses back closer to them. When some of the others notice how close they’re getting, they start to buck, but with one warning bray from Fancy, they are back to galloping in a makeshift formation with her around the corral. Scarlet lets out a small huff of laughter, hand slapping down on Arthur’s shoulder. He glances up at her, hauling himself up onto the beam once she lets go of his shoulder.

“What was that you just did?”

“What? The whistle? That was somethin my Ma taught me. Said she used to have Fancy herd all her ma’s horses an she’d use that whistle. There’s a few different whistles she responds to. So long as they come from me, she’ll listen,” she explains.

“Like what?”

“Well, for instance, this one,” she demonstrates three short whistles of the same pitch and Fancy puts a little distance between herself and the rest of the herd before rearing and breaking into a run for the other end of the pen, just to spin last minute and race back to the herd. “That was sorta like a ‘hey go scout and come back’ kinda call. I’ve used it several times in bounties.”

“Any others she might remember?”

“Yeah, but one more. Can’t teach you all my secrets, Morgan,” she winks and whistles similarly to the first; normal, then higher pitch, then normal again. “That means come here if you can hear me,” she chuckles as Fancy gallops over, tail and head held high as she skids to a stop in front of Scarlet. The woman laughs and offers her a bit of hay she pulls from her pocket.

“Well, alright then. Let’s get these horses separated so we can get this done,” Arthur hops down into the pen with Scarlet at his side. The dark bay mare moves away and towards the herd who cluster behind her. She nickers and snorts at them, slowly separating them on her own. “She’s a bright one, huh? She really understands us doesn’t she?”

The ranch hands all help herd the horses into small sections, using posts to block them at one end of the corral. Fancy blocks the entrance to the space for two from the herd, a faux fence around the others,

“Acourse. She’s been with me for years. She’s known me since she was at least ten,” Scarlet holds up her hands and slowly approaches one of the remaining horses. Arthur does the same to the other, walking slow and speaking words of encouragement and praise.

“Easy girl, that’s good.”

“Yeah girl, no need to spook. There’s a good girl.”

“Atta girl. So good.”

“That’s it, easy.”

The horses nicker and prance around the two humans for a minute before settling enough to allow them to pat them. Arthur looks over the back of the mare he’s with, meeting Scarlet’s eye for a split second before her horse moves and the woman is blocked by the dapple grey mare. He pats the horse once more before he hauls himself onto her back, mane gripped tight in his hand. In his peripheral he sees Scarlet has mounted her mare as well.

There’s a rush of adrenaline through him as he calls for his mare to calm down. He can vaguely make out Scarlet saying something similar. “Whoah!” He hollers as he almost slips off his dapple grey. He quickly adjusts himself and continues to calm the horse.

Scarlet is faring just as well. She’s got a good grip on the mare’s mane, moving with her, spouting praises and soothing her. She grunts as the dapple grey throws her forward. She quickly recovers, adjusting herself farther back so she doesn’t fall if the mare throws her forward again. She lets out a laugh as the horse grunts under her, snorting at the unusual weight on her back.

Soon, the two mares are prancing sideways and nickering at each other as they test their ability to trot, gallop, and walk with the added weight. Scarlet steers her horse towards the gate, telling the males there to wait to open it until they have leads on the first two. She waits until there’s a rope halter on the one she’s on before slipping off and meeting Arthur in the middle of the pen.

“Two down, five to go. You ready?” She asks, breathing a tad heavier. He grins and nods, bending down to pick up his hat. He wipes the dust off and sets it on his head. She laughs, but it’s cut short as she tries to steady her heartbeat.

“O’course. You sound a bit winded though, you good?”

“Yeah. Gettin thrown into a horse vertebrae isn’t as fun as it sounds,” she jokes and nudges him. He shakes his head good naturedly and nods to the two new horses Fancy’s let out.

“Ready for round two?”

Scarlet’s face splits in a grin as she turns his innocent question into an innuendo. He glances at her, curious about her wide smile.

“Yeah, if you’ve got the stamina to match,” she shoots back, stopping and turning to look at him as he stumbles as her words sink in. She barks out a laugh as red creeps into his cheeks. He rubs the back of his neck and he points to the horses.

“Christ, Woman, I was talkin bout horse breakin.”

“So was I.” Her statement sounds more like a question to him. He groans quietly and motions for her to go first. She tips her hat covered head and they repeat the process for approaching the horses.

The next four horses are a little easier as they all have similar bucking patterns. Arthur and Scarlet learn quickly and find the fastest way to break them and get them calm before putting halters on them. When they’re down to the last three, Scarlet sends Fancy out and asks for one of the men to saddle her back up for her. The mustang takes up spot by Smoke; he sniffs curiously at the new horses’ scents on the mare.

They’re just bringing the last of the dual-breaking to the gate when they hear wood splintering. Scarlet turns and her green eyes widen. Arthur’s off the horse a split second behind her, yelling at the ranch hands to get out of the way. Two ranchers grab the most recently broken horses, a young colt and filly, as the stallion jumps the now broken fence. Both gunslingers whistle for their horses.

They’re in their saddles in record time, Fancy already starting to gallop while Scarlet swings up into the seat. She loosens Fancy’s reins and gives her her head as she kicks her sides, quickly transitioning to post with the running stride. Arthur is hot on her heels with Smoke as they chase the blood red stallion through the trees. Fancy snorts and almost yanks the reins from Scarlet’s hand in earnest.

“Whoah girl. Lemme untie them, then you can have your headway,” she soothes and busies herself with undoing the knot in the reins and tying it to her saddle, slack hanging loosely. “Alright, there. Hyah!”

The mustang whinnies and surges forward, leaving Arthur and his dark thoroughbred behind. He yells after her as Smoke pushes himself to go faster too. Fancy navigates her way through the trees, minding her rider when she jumps over knarled roots. They catch up to the stallion, who’s ran himself to a cliff edge, backed against the cliff behind him; he rears and kicks his front legs out as he realizes he’s ran himself into a corner.

Smoke and Arthur appear a few moments later, blocking the little escape the blood coated stud might have been able to slip through. The riders share a glance and slip from their saddles, letting their horses go block the path. The stallion snorts as they both walk slowly closer, his gaze trained on Arthur before switching to Scarlet. He paws at the ground before throwing his weight onto his front legs and kicking. They stop and wait for him to settle down again, murmuring soothingly to him as they approach.

It takes a solid ten minutes before they can pat him, but when they are able, they don’t immediately try to break him. Instead, they pet him and talk to him until he’s not anxiously prancing in place. Arthur steps away to make a rope halter as Scarlet rubs down the horse's forehead. He bobs his head before nudging her and sniffing at her pants. He nibbles at the pockets and she laughs, causing him to snatch his head back, ears half turned back.

“Shh, easy, Boy. Here. Look,” she slowly reaches into her pocket and pulls out what’s left of the hay. His ears flick forward as he sniffs at it when she raises it close to his face. He nibbles at it before taking it from her hand, leaving foamy saliva in place. She fake gags and wipes her hand on her pants, laughing again. “Gross....Atta boy. Good horse.”

“Here. Let’s see if we can slip this on him. Then we’ll try to break him.”

“Think he’ll be an easy break, Arthur?”

“Maybe. Hopefully. He’s calm ‘round us now so we can only hope,” he answers and passes her the makeshift halter. Together they manage to slip it on and into place, a lot of coaxing and reassurance being whispered to the stallion.

“I think you should break him,” Scarlet says after a moment. Her nose is scrunched as her eyes roam over the wild horse. Arthur shifts his weight to his left leg, popping his right out a little, and rests his hands on his belt, thumbs slipping between the belt and his pants.

“Why’s that?”

“He’s too tall for me to jump on. I don’t wanna startle him and I’d rather not climb on Fancy to climb on him,” she sighs softly as she pats his neck. “Such a pretty boy. Yeah, you are.” He nickers softly in response.

“Here,” Arthur’s on her in a flash, arm wrapped under her thighs as he hauls her off her feet and onto his shoulder in a seated position. She lets out a squeal as she feels her feet leave the ground. The trio of horses look at her as though she’s crazy before snorting at them. “Climb on now. I’ve got him.” And he does. He’s holding the rope halter in his hand so the horse won’t move. Scarlet glances down at him, but his hat is covering his face so she can’t see his eyes nor read the expression in them.

She shifts slightly on his shoulder and grabs the stallion’s mane, pulling herself onto his back. Arthur meets her eyes then, a silent question to make sure he can let go; She nods and he lets his grip loosen on the halter and fall away. He backs up as the stud rears at the added weight. Scarlet holds tight to his mane and squeezes her thighs against him until he’s back on all fours. He bounces on his back legs a few times, as though he’s going to rear again, but doesn’t. Instead, he kicks out his legs and bucks to the left. Scarlet shifts herself and holds steady until he starts going right. She moves with him, her body syncing with his wild antics. It’s faster than the other three she’s broken today, that much she knows. He kicks once more and settles, shaking his head and pawing the ground, his hoof scraping against the rock under foot making a clicking sound.

“Good boy!” She praises and pats his neck. He turns his head to look at her and snorts. Arthur steps back up to them and ties a piece of rope on the halter to use as reins. Once it’s secured to both sides, Arthur slips it over his neck and hands it to Scarlet.

“See there? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” His question is for Scarlet, but the stallion whinnies and shakes his mane out in reply. They laugh at him and shake their heads.

“Guess he’s a mind reader. Honestly I think this was the easiest break I’ve ever done,” she admits and tests out the reins. She has the stallion walk, turn, trot, slow down, and stop before she turns to Arthur. “I think we’re ready to head back. You think we should tie him to our horses?”

“No, I think you should ride him back. Keep him from spooking and I’ll follow on Smoke with Fancy. Keep an eye out for you,” he suggests and whistles for their horses. Both respond and walk up to them, Fancy greeting the now broke stallion. He nudges her back and lowers his head to her as she nips at his mane.

“Keep an eye out for me or on me?” She taunts playfully, locking eyes with Arthur. He chooses not to answer and mounts up instead.

“Come on, this way,” he says, clicking his tongue to signal his horse to go. She beams at his silence, giggling quietly at the realization that she might have made him uncomfortable.

They ride back the way they came in a content silence, Fancy trailing behind her as she rides behind Smoke as they look for the trail. She urges the stallion to keep pace with the dark thoroughbred and rests the reins where his neck and back meet. She knocks knees with Arthur and tips her hat back on her head.

“This was fun. We should do this more often.”

“What? Chase horses that break free from pens?”

Scarlet laughs at that. She shakes her head and uses her foot to hook the back of his leg, letting it go soon after. He finally looks at her, tilting his head in question.

“Nah. I meant this,” she gestures around them and then themselves. “Ridin together. We make a good team.”

“Hmm.” He turns his eyes back to the nonexistent path their horses pave, thinking. He nods in agreement. “Yeah. I guess we do. I’m sure Dutch will send you on jobs with me and some of the others too. We’re not just the Van der Linde gang, we’re a family,” he explains as they merge back onto a trail they come upon. They ride the rest of the way back in silence, hearing the whoops and hollers from the ranchers and hands as they near.

“Well I’ll be damned!” Jim greets them as they pull to a stop near the busted corral. He whistles low at the sight of Scarlet on the horse. He nods and digs in his pocket for the owed money. “Here, the money promised for breaking these guys. And for the trouble, why don’t you keep that one you’re riding there? Your mustang is up there in age ain’t she?”

“Yeah. Fancy’s my old girl. She gets me where I need to go, fast if we need to too,” she replies, leaning over and scratching behind the mare’s ear as she stands on her left. “Don’t you girl? Such a sweet old thing.”

“You sure? He’s broke now,” Arthur accepts the money but questions the offer for the horse. Jim just nods and waves him off. He shrugs and tips his hat to the man. “Well then, Miss O’Hara, you ready to head back to Valentine?”

“I guess so. Jim, sir, you have a good day. Take care of them horses now. They weren't easy to break,” she chides playfully as she turns toward Arthur. “Ready when you are, Cowboy.” Arthur rolls his eyes but smiles small anyway, spurring on his horse. The stallion perks his ears with a raised head as Fancy takes off after Smoke and he prances. “Well, we’ll be seeing you. Y’all have a good rest of your day,” she calls as she gives their new horse a light kick. He neighs and gallops to catch up to the other two. He only settles when Fancy allows him to pass and he’s riding side by side with Smoke.

“Seems like he’s taken a liking to us,” Arthur points out, once out of sight of the rancher’s camp. Scarlet nods and hums as she lets Arthur lead them back to the small, developing town of Valentine.

“Seems that way, don’t it?” She acknowledges as Arthur reaches over and pats the red stallion as they continue on.

By the time they make it back to Valentine, the sun’s setting. Scarlet yawns and turns into the town, headed for the stables. Arthur raises a brow and turns Smoke to follow her.

“Where ya goin?” He asks as she slows the stud to a walk as they approach the stables. The owner gets up from his seat and waves as she stops and dismounts.

“Gotta at least check on Shasta,” she mumbles and hitches the thoroughbred. He snorts and pulls at the tied reins until Arthur has Smoke stand beside him, Fancy joins on his other side to help settle him. Arthur joins Scarlet in the stables.

Shasta’s biting the stall door, ears pinned back until he smells his owner. He whinnies happily and tries to rear in the small stall. When he can’t, he huffs and presses as close to the door as he can, head reaching for Scarlet. Once she’s close enough for him to reach, he bites on her shirt and pulls her to him, nickering and braying softly as he nuzzles his chin against her back. She pats his neck, petting what she can reach until he lifts his head so she can move.

“Why you actin up? Huh? Why you chewin this nice man’s stall door?” She asks and ruffles the part of his mane that’s between his ears and fallen into his eyes. He blinks as she brushes it with her fingers, pulling it away from his eyes so he can see. “I thought I told you to behave.”

“He actually wasn’t any trouble, Ma’am. He just started that before you rode up. We took him out earlier and let him run the corral with some of the others. He even took to the salt lick we had out there,” the owner answers the questions for the Buckskin. Aforementioned horse pulls his lips back and whinnies at her, bouncing his head like he’s laughing.

“Yeah, is that so? You think this is funny, Boy? Makin me think you’re misbehavin?” She teases and scratches his neck. He leans into her touch, shifting on his feet. “If it’s ok I think I’ll leave him here again. I’ll probably bring one of my others too. I have four now and can’t ride them all at once,” she turns to the stable owner who nods and smiles at her.

“Always happy to help. He’s actually been helping with the other timid horses. I was afraid he was gonna fight the Dutch Warmblood we have but he didn’t. So that was good.”

“That right? Well, I’ve got some oats supposed to be comin in at the store in the next couple days or so. I can drop a bag off as payment for this door if you’d like,” she offers in apology. They shake on it and she leaves with Arthur, Shasta earning another night at the stables.

She scratches Smoke’s neck as she passes around his front and unties the new horse, tossing the rope over his head. He stumbles back, spooked at the suddenness. Fancy and Smoke move with him, boxing him between them until he allows Scarlet to get ahold of his halter.

“Such good horses,” she praises the trio, pushing on Fancy’s nose to get her to back up. She does as wanted, pulling her head back to glance behind her. Arthur pulls Smoke a little away and saddles up. He extends his arm down to Scarlet to help her onto the stallion. She takes it and between Arthur pulling her up and using her grip on the stallion’s mane she manages to clamber onto his back again. Arthur chuckles at the scene of her readjusting herself on the horse’s back, causing her to look up to him. “Something funny, Arthur?”

“Yeah. I think you like horses that are too tall for you,” he walks Smoke around her and pulls on the stallion’s halter. “Come on, let’s get back to camp and let Dutch know we got the money.”

“How much money y’all need exactly? To leave all this behind and such?” she asks once they cross the train tracks heading out of Valentine. Arthur sighs as he tries to figure that out himself.

“Honest? I’m not sure how much Dutch has set aside, so as far as right now I can’t say. I dunno how much it would cost to move us all either, wherever he even has planned, but I’m gon’ say it’ll be a lot,” he finally answers, keeping their pace at a fast walk. Fancy makes a habit of being on one side of Arthur and then rounding to Scarlet, as though keeping lookout.

They ride the rest of the short way in silence, Scarlet leaning back to look at the stars starting to come out. She lets go of the reins, trusting Fancy and Smoke to keep the stallion calm as she rests her palms on his haunches to lean back on them. He flicks his ears back to her at the weight shift on his back, but continues at their pace. Arthur side eyes her, reaching out to the new stallion to scratch behind his ear, taking in how peaceful and content she looks; the night casting shadows across her skin that the stars and moon banish with their light. He swallows thickly and shakes his head, eyes back on the path ahead as they turn under the crossed trees that mark the main entrance to the camp. Once the trio of horses are hitched, and Shamrock given his earlier bribe of hay, the duo make their way to Dutch’s tent.

He’s sitting on his bed, book in hand, muttering to himself. Arthur clears his throat and greets him, a small smile on his face. Dutch glances up and gets to his feet, meeting them. He gestures to the campfire and they follow obediently, all taking a seat. Arthur and Scarlet sit on the log while Dutch takes a seat on the box to their right. He rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward.

“I was worried you two ran into trouble. You get them horses broke?”

“Acourse we did; have some faith in us, Dutch. There was seven of them to deal with and it was a long ride out there and back,” Arthur playfully jabs back at Dutch as he leans back on the fur covered log. “We got a little something out of it too. Pretty decent pay just to break some horses. Two hundred each and another surprise.”

Dutch nods and runs a hand down his face, eyes flickering to Scarlet. She reaches for the coffee mug by the fire and smiles upon feeling how full it is. She busies herself with getting her cup and pouring some in it before she quietly and carefully opens Arthur’s pouch and removes his cup. She fills his too and Dutch barks out a laugh. Hosea, John, and Javier join them, hearing Dutch’s laughter.

“Well despite that, you just got robbed, Arthur my boy,” he claps his hands down on his knees as Arthur gives him a confused look. Dutch just nods to Scarlet, who is holding up his cup in offering when he turns to her. His eyes widen as he sees two cups in her hands, her own and his. He mutters a thanks and takes the cup, basking in the warmth that seeps into his hands from it.

“How the hell did you get into my pouch without me feeling it?” He inquires curiously, taking a drink of the bitter liquid. She shrugs and lowers her cup, waggling her left hand at them.

“I’m pretty good with my hands,” she shrugs and winks at Arthur, getting another laugh from Dutch, the others snort in laughter as well. “Quiet too. Have to be when there’s a crowd,” she adds before taking another drink of the liquid energy. Arthur feels warmth spread across his cheeks and is glad that night’s fallen.

“Oh I like her, I really do. Don’t take this the wrong way now, Miss O’Hara, but I’m glad that we nearly collided when those O’Driscoll scum were chasing you,” Dutch proclaims, handing over his own cup when she prompts him. She fills his mug and passes it back as she listens.

“Well, thanks for the reminder that I nearly ran over the infamous Dutch. Please, humiliate me some more,” she sasses as she sets the half empty tin back down by the fire after offering it to the others who decline. “But always happy to be of service and pleasure.”

“Mama?” James calls as Abigail herds both boys towards them. Scarlet is off her seat in a moment, arms open for her son as he dashes away from Abigail. He hugs her tight and mumbles, something she can’t quite make out, into her shirt. She strokes his head, brushing his hair back as she leads him back over to her seat. He sits in front of her, between her legs as he recounts his day with Jack and Abigail.

“Thank you, Abigail. I didn’t think we’d be gone all day. I preshade [appreciate it], ya lookin’ after ‘im,” she thanks the only other mother in the gang. Abigail waves her off and gives her a look that says ‘let’s talk later’. Scarlet nods and leans against Arthur slightly, nudging him. “Wanna tell’em how you laughed at me fer ridin’ horses too big?” She taunts; James laughs, remembering his father having said something similar to the two of them the last time they went to visit him.

The rest of the gang trickle over to hear the story of how Arthur and Scarlet broke the horses. About how the stud they have hitched on the other side of camp broke the fencing and ran off; about their mini adventure on calming, catching, and breaking him. Scarlet notes that he’s leaving out details, like their banter and when he picked her up to help her onto the stallion, but she doesn’t point it out.

John and Bill make comments and jokes about Arthur needing help being re-broke, asking Scarlet if she thinks she can do it. Thankfully Abigail and Scarlet sent Jack and James off to bed by the time those kinds of questions start slipping out. Everyone waits for the answer as she and Arthur look at each other a moment.

“Ahh, I dunno. He’s kinda old,” she jabs, knocking her shoulder into his. “Kinda gruff and scruffy too.” He grins at that, shaking his head, thinking of a good comeback.

“Nah. She’s too green. Don’t know how to handle a real unruly and wild stud,” he replies, stretching his legs out in front of him. Everyone, including the duo in question, bust out in laughter at the responses.

Not too long after their story is retold do they bid goodnight to the gang, each headed to their respective wagons. Arthur grabs Scarlet’s upper arm as she passes, making her stumble back a couple steps. She glances at her arm where his hand is and then to his face.

“Arthur?” She asks, concern lacing her tone as she steps closer to him. He clears his throat as he lets her arm go, his hand holding onto her wrist light enough she could pull away if she wants. He nods, a gesture more to himself than her. She waits patiently.

“I just want you to know that you can come to me if you need help. Okay? With anythin. Just let me know. An, uhh, well thanks for bein there today. I don’t think I coulda done that by myself and still gotten back here before now without you an Fancy,” he supplies for his momentary silence. She nods and rolls her shoulders, shrugging as she goes to turn back to her wagon. “Hey, I mean it. Anythin. Any time. If I’m sleepin, wake me. Promise I won’t be mad.”

“Thank you, Arthur. You’re sweet. You really are a good man. Albeit one who’s done bad things, but haven’t we all?” She smiles at him, though he notes it’s a sad smile and it doesn’t reach her eyes. He goes to say something else but she cuts him off. “I’d ride with you again, if you ever ask. Just let me know and I’ll go.” She pauses and twists her hand in his hold, rubbing his forearm for a moment. “Goodnight, Arthur.” She squeezes his arm before letting him go as she turns back to her carriage, grabbing an extra blanket and cuddling with her son.

“Good night, Scarlet.”

7 notes · View notes

yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

Balance Requires Motion (Six Cowgirl AU)

TW: Animal abuse

————

Horse barn names/racing names:

Latte/Overly Caffeinated

Dusty/Avoiding Dust

Vinnie/Vincent Van GoGo

Whisper/TellMeYourSecrets

Blazer/Out-Burn Kamikaze

Listener/Lost Song

Peril/Hell Comes Handily

Croft/Tomb Raider

Queenie/SheBeast

———————

Jockeys/Race nicknames:

Anna Cleves/Red

Anne Boleyn/The Trickster

Joan Meutas/Hurricane

Thomas Cromwell/Bulldog

Thomas Culpeper/Salt

———————

“What did I say about bringing him into the house?!”

“He gets cold!”

“Fuck, he stepped in the food!”

Maggie blinks from where she’s packing up her things, watching as a medium-sized goose honks and hops back up on the table, his foot going into the mashed potatoes. Maria screeches, reaching out to grab her beloved bird, but he flaps his wings and dashes off the table and under the couch.

Bessie just sighed and rubbed her thumb and index finger against her forehead. This is a normal occurrence, seeing as how her roommate favors the bird for some reason.

“You have to stop bringing him in,” Bessie scolds, grabbing the ruined potatoes. She’ll save them for the pigs, maybe.

“But his dad is the devil! He doesn’t deserve to be stuck outside in the cold with that demon!”

Maggie suddenly gasps, placing a hand to her chest.

“Aries is a sweetheart! Sure, he may look a little rundown, but he’s sweet and loving!”

She receives two looks of disbelief.

“You’re the only one he likes,” Bessie says, shaking her head.

“Yeah, he’s a pest for everyone but you!” Maria calls from where she is now, crouching down on the living room floor. She peeks under the couch and then a cushioned seat, squeaking as the goose tries to nip at her. She coos, placing her hand under the chair until the bird hesitantly waddles out.

“Who’s my good Leonardo?” Maria coos, rocking the goose back and forth in her hands.

“I still don’t understand why you named a goose ‘Leonardo’. Too pristine for him,” Bessie says, noticing Maggie scurrying over to the house phone that was starting to ring. “Take him outside.”

Maria let out a long groan, but obeyed and walked out of the house to return Leonardo to his pen. When she returns Maggie has finished the phone call.

“It’s Miss Seymour,” The farmhand informs, “She’s got a mare that’s struggling.”

With that, Bessie is already swiping her car keys and pulling on her coat. She nods to Maria, who heads out the door to the truck.

“Would you like to be dropped off, dear?” Bessie asks her young farmhand, “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“I can stay,” Maggie said, “I want to help.”

Bessie smiled and nodded, heading out to the car to get to the job.

—————

“Maria will you stop cringing and help me?”

Bessie’s roommate peeked into the barn, her face pale and expression disgusted, then immediately yanked herself back out.

“Oh, that is so gross! I didn’t sign up for this!”

“You didn’t sign up for ANYTHING! I am letting you LIVE in MY HOUSE for FREE! So get your ass OVER HERE and HELP ME!”

Standing against the far wall in of the barn, Jane Seymour, the farm owner, and her horse trainer, Catherine Aragon, watched this exchange go on. Maggie stood alongside them, holding any tools that might have been needed.

“Are they...?” Aragon’s words trailed off as she scratched the top of her head. “Does this...?”

“Oh yeah.” Maggie said without her finishing. “This is their process!”

“You have your ARM in a horse’s VAGINA!! You never said anything about THAT when I came to live with you!”

“I’ll stick my arm up YOUR VAGINA if you don’t get over here!” Bessie then quieted her voice and stroked the fur of Latte, the foaling horse she was assisting, “Shh, Shh, Shh. It’s okay, sweetie. You’re okay... MARIA!!”

“Okay! Okay! I’m coming!”

Maria dragged herself over to the fallen horse and did her best to not look at the hooves sticking out of the mare’s vagina.

After some time goes by, Bessie was pulling on the foal’s front legs, sticky and wet with birthing fluid and covered in the placenta. She was doing her best to be gentle, yet firm enough to pull out the baby, but the mare continued to let out louder whinnies. Jane grips tightly to her shirt as she watches.

“Come on, girl. I can’t do it alone. Push.” Bessie said encouragingly, pulling out more of the baby.

“Come on, Latte, push. You can do it.” Maria said to the mother. The horse’s wild, tired eyes looked up at her.

And, as if she was actually listening, she began to push harder. The foal’s head slipped out a second later, followed by the rest of the upper body.

“That’s it, you’re doing it!” Maria cheered happily, trying to keep her voice down so she would remain calm.

“Almost there,” Bessie murmured as she got a hold of the foal’s middle.

After a few minutes, the foal was finally out. A spew of birthing fluids and placenta followed and Maria was darting out of the barn, causing Bessie to laugh as she peeled off the soaked glove she had on her arm.

“Good work, Mars!” She called.

“Urrg...” Maria groaned from outside.

“You okay, love?”

“Fine...like you care...” Maria grumbled.

Bessie laughed again and then looked back down at the baby. The new foal looked just like it’s mother. Under all that goo was a beautiful, chestnut colored mustang, with a sweet little patch of white on it’s nose. She just about swooned when she saw those large, gleaming brown eyes look up at her.

“It’s a filly,” Bessie called to Jane, who was taking deep breaths of relief.

“Oh, she’s perfect.” Jane said, walking over slowly. “Bessie, I cannot thank you enough. I was so worried...”

The filly began to gather her surroundings, looking around to see where she was while her mother licked and nuzzled her from above. After a moment, she slowly began to stand on her long legs, wobbling and tumbling down a few times, making Maggie laugh a bit before she finally started to get the hang of it. She clumsily tottered her way over to her mother and instantly began to nurse.

Speaking of the young farmhand, she was alerted by voices outside, so she walked out and approached a nearby track.

“Jog him a bit, Catherine doesn’t want anything crazy," A dark-skinned girl, maybe around nineteen, called to another colored woman on a horse.

The woman on the horse nodded in understanding. She walked her mount, a large, muscled chestnut mare, down to one of the far poles, circled her around, and shifted her weight forward allowing the horse to start moving.

At the same time, a second woman riding a bulky red stallion, shot by, throwing up dust as they went by. The chestnut mare grunted and staggered backwards, nearly rearing, but she calms when her rider pats her broad neck and whispers something loving in her ear.

“Anne!” The nineteen-year-old barked, “Didn’t you hear me?!”

“She never does,” Giggled the second girl at her side. She was younger, maybe seventeen, and her hair was dyed pink at the tips.

“A jog is so boring! Vinnie and I need something more exciting!”

“Then give me a few figure eights!” The nineteen year old said.

Seemingly content with that, the red stallion and his rider pushed forward and began running in circles. As they did this, Maggie found it to be the best time to approach the two girls.

“Hello?” She called, and the pair leaning against the track fence turned around. The one with dyed hair smiled brightly and lunges for her, hugging her tightly.

“Maggie!” She chirped. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Emergency call,” Maggie grinned, hugging back, “I was still at Bessie’s house, so I decided to come over! Hey, Cathy.”

“Hey, Maggie.” Cathy smiled at her.

“What are you guys doing?”

“Helping Anna and Anne train,” Cathy said, “Since Catherine is with Jane and the mare, we were gonna watch and help out here. We got a race coming up.” Pride leaked into her voice. “How’s your jockey coming along? Bessie said she’s getting into horse racing.”

Maggie inwardly winced, but, luckily, doesn’t actually do it to where anyone can see.

“Joan’s doing good! She struggled a little at first, but she’s come a long way.” She then smirked, “You guys better be ready for some competition.”

Cathy actually laughed loudly at that. Katherine grinned brightly.

“Oh, we are!” Cathy said.

“Speak of the Devil!” Katherine yipped.

Maggie turned around to see a blonde girl, barely eighteen, with tired eyes walking a red horse with black speckles up to the track. She perks up a little.

“Joan!” She called, “What are you doing here?”

“Bessie texted me to bring Blazer over.” Joan said. Her voice was as tired as her eyes were, oozing with hidden pain she tried to shove away. It’s like she’s been shattered and pieced back together several times. She went to say something else, but stopped when she noticed the other two jockeys on the track, moving with such professionalism and perfection that it nearly made her turn around and march back home.

By the gleam in Katherine’s eye, she's caught the young jockey’s expression.

“Up you get, Joan,” She said cheerfully. “Show us those skills you've been honing!”

Joan turned to her to glare slightly, her irritation for Jane’s farmhand already bubbling. She ignores it for now, though, and grabbed the saddle horn and clambered onto Blazer’s muscular back. Surprised, the horse stumbles a little, pawing at the dirt with a front hoof. Then he settles. Somewhat. He doesn't seem happy...

Blazer hesitates. He shuffles back and forth. Under Joan’s thighs, his muscles tense, and, for a moment Joan thinks he might throw her off. Then, he cranes his head around, looking for something. Joan laughs softly and gives it to him- a sugar cube.

Cathy wrinkled her nose a little at this. Katherine attempts a little lopsided smile, while Maggie shrinks back, secondhand embarrassment stinging her insides.

“He shouldn’t be so fidgety when you get onto him,” Cathy said as gently as possible. “And you shouldn’t have to tempt him into listening to you with treats... Is he not trained?”

“He is trained!” Joan snapped, causing Blazer to stir in agitation at the tone of her voice. She quiets herself, hunching her shoulders in a little, and mutters an apology to her mount. “Blazer’s just...he has a temper. That’s all.”

Cathy and Katherine say no more on the topic. Katherine opens the gate to the track and Blazer trots through the fence.

“Hey, Joan!”

The woman on the red stallion, Anne, came charging up to Joan and, for a moment, the girl thought she was going to get trampled. But then the horse skids to a perfect halt in front of her.

“Hi, Anne.” Joan gave her a small smile. “And this is...?”

“Vincent Van GoGo.” Anne smirked proudly. “Vinnie is his normal name. Anna’s lady is Dusty. Or Avoiding Dust.”

That name was understandable. That mare looked so fast. When she was in a race, she could probably easily avoid dust.

“And who’s this?”

“Blazer.”

“Race name?”

“Race-? Oh! Out-Burn Kamikaze.”

Anne quirked an eyebrow.

“It was Maria’s idea.”

Anne laughed. “Ah! Alright. Well, why don’t you try practicing? I don’t think I’ve seen you ride before.”

Joan nods and heads off to begin.

Figure eights and loops around the yard to start, then she has Blazer hop over a few fence posts one by one. He's responding beautifully.

Now the tricky bit.

Joan urges Blazer around the curve of the track and leans forward, allowing him to speed up. He does and his canter quickly turns to a full gallop.

Wind tears through Joan’s hair as her mount ran around the track. The air feels crisp while atop the speeding beast- it was unreal.

It was amazing.

But then, all of a sudden, Blazer is spasming.

Spooked by something, the horse jerked to the side and began rearing in circles in the middle of the track. He jabbed at the air with his front hooves, shrilling frightful, or maybe furious whinnies so loud they bring Aragon, Jane, and Bessie out of the stables.

Joan helplessly cries for her steed to calm down, but her yelling only seems to spur his frenzy further. He whipped his head back and forth, turned in every direction, and reared until, finally, Joan came loose from his back and was flung to the dirt. With one final buck of his hind legs, he scampered away to try and calm himself down.

Joan lays dazed on the ground for several long seconds. Her shoulder aches in tremendous pain when she sits up, winding her further. She struggles to breathe as several other cries of horses sound around her. Avoiding Dust and Vincent Van GoGo must have gotten spooked by Blazer’s tantrum.

“Joan!!”

Someone was coming, so she angrily scrubs away her tears and forces herself to her feet. Her shoulder throbs in disagreement, but she ignores the scream of her muscles and bones.

“Joan, are you okay?” Maria asked. Worry was glinting in her eyes. “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” Joan growled, her voice cracking slightly. She sniffled and clawed away tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks again.

“Oh, sweetheart...”

“I’m going back to the farm.” Joan said. She then turned around and promptly walked over to Blazer, who bumped her reddened face as if nothing had happened.

The entirety of Royalling Stones Farm felt silent as she walked out with her horse in tow.

“Is she okay?” Bessie asked Maria the moment Joan was out on the street.

“I don’t know,” Maria answered. “She was crying, though...”

“Poor thing...” Bessie sighed.

“Is everything alright?” Jane asked.

“Besides the kid being bucked off and all.” Aragon added.

“Yeah,” Bessie said slowly. “Joan’s just...got some things going on. That’s all. Anyway...I need to be getting Maggie home. Let’s go, girls! It was good seeing you Jane. You too, Catherine.”

With goodbyes said, Bessie, Maria, and Maggie all piled into Bessie’s truck to leave.

The ride home was awkwardly silent. Maria was going to start up a conversation when Maggie suddenly yelled and pointed out the window.

“What’s going on?”

Bessie and Maria both whipped their heads around to see their jockey and her horse causing some kind of scene in a neighboring farm. When Bessie saw what farm it was, she nearly floored it and continued driving, but she couldn’t do that to Joan, so she pulled over.

“Leave her alone!” Joan was yelling. At her side, Blazer was working himself up to a proper temper, stomping his hooves and snorting.

“What’s it to you, kid?” The man she was speaking to scoffed.

“What’s it to me? The poor thing’s crying out! It’s probably whining because she’s tired. I saw you running sprints with her when I passed by. She’s panting, can’t you see? If you bring her into her stable and give her some water she should calm down, no reason to whip her.” Joan replied, matching the man’s gaze. She has herself bristled up like an angry squirrel.

The horse she was referring to was a giant void of black. The mare was huge, much bigger than Vinnie back at Jane’s farm. However, the large creature was very clearly frightened and kept crying out and pain from when her owner had whipped her.

“It’s my horse. I paid for her. I can do whatever I’d like to her.” The man said, stalking closer to Joan. “Her race name is SheBeast for a reason. Now, why don't you go off and braid your little colt’s mane whilst I try and break my mare in like a real trainer, aye?”

Joan clenched her fists tightly. Blazer was getting more and more agitated by the second, the cries of the other horse setting him off.

“Alright, that’s enough!”

The sound of Bessie’s booming voice drove Blazer into a bucking fit. The whip-wielding man leapt away as Joan held tightly to her horse’s reigns, which gets her jerked around in the process.

“Jesus fuck!” The man yelled, “Control your horse, brat! Before he kills someone!”

“I am!” Joan snapped.

“Joan.” Bessie growler. “Get Blazer under control and let’s go.”

“Bessie!” Joan said in surprise, still being yanked around by her horse. “Wait- what? We can’t leave! This man’s-“

“Ah, Elizabeth.” The man smirked widely.

“Cromwell.” Bessie spit. She grabbed Joan rougher than she intended to and pushed the girl behind her.

“Please. Use Thomas.” Thomas crooned, “You’re looking well. Better than well. Henry has been saying how good you look at the races and now I see what he means.” His eyes are hungry.

“We’re leaving.” Bessie hissed. She ignored Joan’s blubbering and pulled her to the truck as Thomas laughed and called to her mockingly.

“Bessie, we cant leave. The horse-“

“I know, Joan,” Bessie said. “It’s terrible, but there’s nothing we can do.”

“Yes there is! What’s your deal with this place? Why do you want to leave so badly? He’s hurting that horse!”

“It’s his horse.”

“That makes it worse!”

“Joan, please, you’re making a scene.”

“And you’re refusing to help that poor horse! She needs us!”

“Joan, we are not-“ Bessie cut herself off with a help of pain when Blazer suddenly bites her hand.

—————

Joan furiously threw chicken feed into the coop, tears burning down her cheeks. The birds fluttered around to eat, unaware of what she was muttering about. Not that they would care.

Geez. Was she really at such a low in her life that she thought some chickens would care about her?

(Nobody cares nobody cares nobody cares that’s why Bessie got mad Bessie is just using her)

The girl put the bucket she was using back in the main barn, then went to go get on the horses. There, she found Blazer, munching away on some alfalfa. His twin sister, a gorgeous dapple grey mare named Listener, was in the pen right beside his.

“Are you scared, too?” Joan whispered to her horse. “Is that why you won’t run?”

Blazer didn’t even look up at her.

“Were you scared when you bit Bessie? Were you...protecting me?”

Nothing.

“I’m scared, too.”

No reaction.

However, when Joan opens the corral gate, his head whips up.

Joan steps inside, bolting the door behind her, and Blazer whinnies and lifts his forelegs, mimicking a rear-up, his ears turning back- but not flattening. He doesn't show his teeth.

Joan lets Blazer circle around, but when Blazer turns to show Joan his hindquarters, she steps back, her spine pressing uncomfortably against the wooden gate.

A good jockey or trainer would have whipped the ill-tempered horse with a coil. Not enough to hurt, but enough to let the horse know it was a warning to not kick out. Hell, even a normal jockey or trainer would know that.

But Joan wasn’t normal or good.

She shrunk back further against the gate, eyeing Blazer’s powerful back legs wryly. One kick from those in the head and she’d be dead.

(Please kick please kick please kick bust open her skull smash in her brain make her no more make her no more PLEASE)

Blazer watches the girl, then huffs, nostrils flared out. His hooves settle back on the ground. Joan smiles a little, dipping her head. She steps forward.

“There we go,” She whispered. She has some sugar cubes in her pocket and puts one in her closed fist, knowing Blazer can smell it. “C'mon, you giant. What else you gonna try?”

Blazer lowers his head like she was. Then, he darts to the side, kicking up a spray of dirt, and Joan laughs, wiping her hand over her face where some hit her. Blazer tries to show his hindquarters again and Joan sidesteps, not wanting to flick her horse, even if it wouldn’t hurt. Blazer huffs trots around the corral.

“I got all the time in the world,” Joan warns the animal, as Blazer snorts and blusters again, pulls up short as if he can trick Joan into turning too far. Seems put out, huffing in annoyance when Joan proves too smart for that. Joan laughs and Blazer finally seems to calm, his ears rolling forward. He shakes his mane out and swishes his tail like a wagging dog.

Joan hums, and then she goes to the edge of the corral, keeping her eyes on Blazer. She sits back, and bends down so she can keep her thighs on one of the metal bars, but her chest is behind it, and she can put her arms over the bar above and stay upright. Blazer snorts at her, walking slowly back and forth, side to side but getting a little closer each time, like he's testing the waters. He looks almost sheepish, like someone realizing they had been blowing things way out of proportion.

Joan grins at him, and offers the sugar cube with a flat palm.

Blazer perks up with a soft whinny, ears forward, and lips delicately at the mint. He snorts at the girl, long lashes dipping over his dark, warm eyes. Joan knows horses aren't capable of having thoughts like people do, don't understand things like taxes and God, but there seems to be some focused shine in Blazer’s eyes, and Joan thinks, with a smile, that they have just come to some unspoken agreement.

“There we go,” She murmurs, petting over Blazer’s big, warm cheek. The stallion breathes out heavily, warm on Joan’s arm and chest, and swishes his tail again, taking another slow step forward. “I know, you just had to get it all outta your system.”

She laughs when Blazer nudges at her pocket, seeking another sugar cube. She pushes Blazer’s forelock to one side, scratches over his forehead, and cups his cheeks.

“Who’s my big brave boy?” She whispered to him.

It could have been pure coincidence, or, perhaps, Blazer really did understand her, but the horse paws the dirt with one hoof and bobbed his head up before returning to Joan’s hands. The girl stared in shock for a moment before a wide, giddy smile stretched on her features.

“Yes you are!” She cooed and pressed a gentle kiss to his soft nose. “You’re my big brave boy.”

Joan closed her eyes, relaxing herself as she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against Blazer’s.

“We’re gonna be champions, you and me.” She told him. “We’re partners. And we can do this. I know we can. Even if we’re scared, at least we can be scared together.”

30 notes · View notes

redeadepression · 5 years

Text

Untitled John Fic | John Marston x F!Reader | Angst

I couldn’t think of a title so... Get it? Like the Goose game. Lol.

Sooo I misread this ask as specifically asking for fem reader which is how I have written the fic. I apologise if you were wanting GN or M!Reader. But I do state in my rules if you don’t ask for a specific gender I will probably write F!Reader as it’s what I am most confident in as a female.

I would also LOVE to write an Arthur fic along the same vein but need to wait for inspiration to hit. Feel free to send me sad Arthur headcanons you wouldn’t mind me using as a prompt to get the juices flowing.

Warnings: Mentions of suicide/suicidal thoughts | Tags: ANGST, Hurt/Comfort

Relationships: John Marston x F!Reader, (past) John Marston x Abigail Roberts | NO CHEATING

Word Count: 4608

Summery: John is struggling with juggling a new relationship and his commitment to Abigail as ex-husband/co-parent to Jack. Reader comforts him when he’s down.

Disclaimer: I fucking LOVE Abigail!!! Don’t @ me about her characterization in this fic! John/Abi is my OTP. I am fully aware they are BOTH at fault for their shitty relationship early game and I try so hard to never write her as purely “the bad guy”. I make sure to always try and give her solid reasoning behind her shitty actions. However, this fic is from John and his new gf’s POV so obviously Abigail is going to be the antagonist.

~~~

It had been a hard few months. Tensions were high in the Gang and as a relatively new member you were finding it hard to hide that fact that you felt uncomfortable and out of place.

Most of your awkward feelings came from the seemingly unanimous contempt that had been placed upon you by a large number of gang members. A strong dislike so thinly veiled that it hung in the air like a bad smell. It felt absolutely suffocating, intolerable at times.

But you couldn’t walk away now. Not after what you had done to cause this cloud of abhorrence that seemed to follow your every move. You’d made a commitment and you planned to stick it out until the heat died down.

If it did die down… You worried more than you cared to admit that you had made a name for yourself. That your time here would always be miserable.

You sat by yourself on a log near the fire. Having risen earlier than usual to try and avoid the bustle of the morning. Gang members arguing over who got the first cup of coffee and whining at the taste of left-over stew for breakfast.

Most people were still asleep. The sun had only just begun to peak its head over the mountains across the distant valley. You were enjoying your moment of silence, a second to yourself to catch your breath after a horrible night of restless sleep.

As if the universe itself was against you, an almighty shriek ripped through the camp, a sudden wind, unrelated to the noise jostled tent flaps and wiped your hair around your face. If you didn’t know better, you would have sworn the breeze was a shockwave from the force of Abigail’s wrath.

You exhaled slowly, turning to look in the direction of the disturbance but still trying to be discreet lest anyone was watching.

Abigail was berating John. Absolutely tearing shreds off him as he stared at her blankly like a startled deer. He had been on his way to the fire, empty coffee cup in hand when she had caught up with him. Her mannerisms telling anyone that was watching that she was finally at the end of her tether.

You pursed your lips, turning back to the fire quickly and trying to pretend you hadn’t heard. Couldn’t still hear, the screaming and cursing.

You couldn’t blame her. It was your fault she was so high strung lately.

You listened as John tried to defend himself meekly. His arguments palling in comparison to her accusations. She had every right to be as upset with him as she was. But you felt perhaps this discussion could have happened in private instead of airing your dirty laundry for the Gang to witness.

It had been a good 6 months now since they had broken up. Amicably at first with the intensions of working things out after a trial separation. John had needed space from her constant nagging and Abigail felt she needed time away from here ‘second child.’

They kept their separation to themselves. But due to the nature of their volatile relationship it wasn’t such a secret. Abigail and Jack moved out of John’s tent and Jack had spent days crying on his bedroll. Heartbroken over his parents splitting up.

This caused frequent quarrels. Abigail arguing that John didn’t care and wasn’t doing anything to try and console the boy that everything would be fine. John arguing right back that there was nothing he could do. Why give him hope for something that may never happen?

The fact that Abigail refused to leave him in peace after their separation just pushed him further away. Even if her arguments were valid and with good intension. John felt caged. Breaking up didn’t make her stop. He couldn’t catch a break. He felt trapped with the only option being to run again.

You bit at your bottom lip, taking a sip of your coffee to seem nonchalant as more and more gang members began to rise from their tents to see what all the commotion is about. A few were looking directly at you. Their eyes squinted and full of loathing. But most were looking at Abigail and John. Watching as she paced in front of him, ranting and raving about his lack of care.

It seemed she’d had a rough night. With Jack falling ill she’s not slept a wink. Between comforting him and cleaning him up after he’s been sick, she was awake the entire night. Resentment at John’s blissfully unaware state growing by the minute as he slept right through a few tents over.

He was arguing that he didn’t know. She should have told him he was sick. Asked for help and he would have been there. Abigail was screaming back that asking him for help has never done her any good in the past so why should she start now?

John was flailing, you could see it plainly as you chanced another glance around. She was too damn angry to hear anything he had to say. You felt for her. You really did. That was, until she noticed you.

She turned on you with the fury of 3 angry bulls. She screamed your name, pointing. All eyes were on you as she shouted.

“And you! You don’t help a damn thing you homewrecker!”

Your jaw droped, unable to speak as you blinked in disbelief. She’d not spoken a word to you in months. Of course now was the time she chose to hash it all out.

“Hey!” John interjected, grabbing Abigail by the arm and spinning her back in his direction. “You leave her out of this!” He warned, eyes stern as she reeled around, hand clapping hard against the side of his face and making him falter. He let go of her, staring with wounded eyes as she took a step back. Realising what she’d just done and clearing her throat.

She opened her mouth to apologise. Her own disbelief greater than that of anybody watching. It had been a reflex. Muscle memory from her days as a prostitute. She hadn’t meant to hurt him.

John turned away, standing there for a second longer before walking away in the direction of the horses.

You watched in stunned silence as she let him go. Even the birds seemingly invested in the situation as an awry stillness descended on the whole area. The only sound the crunching of John’s boots as he stomped towards Old Boy.

He mounted up and left. Forgoing a saddle or any other tack. Hands holding tight on to Old Boy’s mane as he dug his heels into the horse’s ribs and directed him away from camp.

It took a few minutes and Abigail retreating to her lean-to to check on Jack before anyone dared to make a move. Gang members slowly exiting their respective tents and going about their business quietly. None of them bold enough to mention what had just happened for fear of Abigail over-hearing.

You stood slowly, knowing people were going to be looking in your direction regardless. They knew where you were going. What your plan was. There was no point in sitting around any longer in an attempt to try and hide it.

You moved towards your horse. Taking your time to saddle up and make sure he/she was ready for the ride before mounting up and spurring them into a trot along the path out of camp.

~~~~

You didn’t have to ride long. Knowing in your heart where John would be you had ridden towards that area, following along the fresh hoof-prints in the loose red dirt.

You turned off the beaten path, your horse whinnying in annoyance at having to walk through the brush. You petted them on the neck, promising a treat for following your direction. You know they couldn’t understand you but smiled non-the-less as they seemed to calm at the idea.

You could have left them hitched to a tree near the main road. But you ran the risk of another gang member noticing them and walking through the forest to find you.

You spotted John and Old Boy up ahead. The large Hungarian Half-bred munching happily on some greenery about 10 metres from the edge of a large cliff overlooking the valley below. John was sitting near the edge. Face in his hands as he contemplated his life thus far, oblivious to your approach.

You hitched Y/HN next to Old Boy and called out softly to alert John to your presence. He jumped slightly. Looking over his shoulder briefly before wiping at his face and letting his hands fall to his lap.

You sat down beside him, placing a familiar hand on his upper back and rubbing small, comforting circles as he glared at the ground in front of him. A large, angry mark flaring up on his cheek where Abigail had hit him.

It had been about 4 months since you’d officially started dating. Four months of absolute hell if you were being honest. But when you were alone like this, in your special spot away from camp, it was absolute bliss.

This specific situation wasn’t ideal. But you had been yearning for some alone time away from prying eyes.

Eyes that seemed to never stop watching. It was taking its toll on you. Making you regret things you shouldn’t be regretting. Questioning things, you didn’t want to be questioning.

Like was he worth it?

John seemed to follow your train of thought. Side-eying you silently as he rubbed at his cheek.

“You can go.” He said weakly. “If you want.” A long exhale following his words as he licked his lips and fell silent once more.

“I just got here.” You laughed, hand falling from its place on his back. You placed it on his thigh, squeezing reassuringly and watching as his jaw tensed. Seemingly gritting his teeth.

“No... I know.” He said softly, struggling to find the words. “I mean… You can leave. If you want to.” He paused, finally turning to look at you and realising his point had not been made. “The Gang.” He clarified. Making your brows shoot upwards in surprise.

He turned back to his hands in his lap and closed his eyes for a moment. You suspected he was waiting for your confirmation on the subject but it didn’t come.

You had been enjoying your time in the Gang up until recently. Having worked hard every day for a week to pull a con on two men you’d met in the saloon nearby. It turned out those men were actually trying to con you as well. When the truth was realised you had all had a good laugh. Dutch and Arthur inviting you to join them for a drink and upon realising you currently didn’t have a stable home, the Gang.

Everything was fantastic for a few months. You felt at home almost instantly. You made new friends, new family. You were welcomed with open arms and you had never felt so secure in your lifetime.

When you’d met John, the chemistry had been instantaneous on your part. Finding him attractive, friendly and useful to boot. You had caught him staring more than once and were relatively sure he returned your feelings. But something was off about the way he acted towards you. He had been skittish. Dancing around your attraction to him and outright avoiding any chance you’d had to be alone. It wasn’t until you’d cornered him after a night of drinking that he finally admitted he did feel something for you as well.

He was very guilty about his admission. Explaining that he was supposed to be trying to work on things with Abigail. He was struggling hard with the feeling that he knew deep down their relationship was a dead-end. Every time they were supposed to try and talk it out it ended in a fight. Abigail becoming increasingly impatient that he wasn’t ready to recommit himself to her.

He had word-vomited his darkest thoughts to you that night. Slurring about how he wanted to run away again and saw no way out. His attraction to you was the straw that broke the camels back. The last nail in the coffin of his resolve to fix things with his wife. He hadn’t meant for it to happen. But that didn’t mean he could ignore it.

He wanted to tell Abigail it was over for good. He wasn’t interested in fixing things and he felt they parented better separately anyway. She was always going on about Jack. What about Jack? How will this affect Jack? He was scared to tell her it wouldn’t. To seem callous towards his son and his feelings. He felt he was a better Father without her hanging over his shoulder.

Somewhere in the middle of his rant he had begun to cry. Head heavy with the drink, he hadn’t been able to stop his usual stoic core from breaking. Mortified by the turn of events he’d tried to pretend as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just spent half an hour rambling his sorrows to a relative stranger.

He shut himself down. Locking away his feelings and refusing to acknowledge them even after you’d both bitten the bullet and started to date a few weeks later.

He’d had to tell Abigail first. Before he could in good conscience being seeing you in earnest. He had been too afraid before your drunken talk. Terrified of ending things and risking everything he had for the sake of your rejection. But after the conformation he had been looking for, he’d found a renewed sense of courage. Letting Abigail know he was done with their romantic relationship but that didn’t mean he was walking away from Jack.

To say she hadn’t taken it well was an understatement. You had learnt swear words that day that you hadn’t previously known the existence of. She had been absolutely furious at your betrayal. Having gotten along fine before that. She’d never expected that you would pounce on her husband.

You’d both argued that had they been an item you would never had made your feelings known. But as John was for all intents and purposes, single, you felt it was alright to proposition him.

You understood where she was coming from. She had been blindsided by your interest in him. Having had it set in her mind that they would work things out and become that happy family she had always dreamed she’d have.

For the most part, the gang agreed with your argument. Tiptoeing around Abigail and letting you know that you didn’t do anything wrong. It wasn’t until rumour started to spread about the night you confessed your feelings that things started to take a turn. It spread like wildfire and although you were both pretty confident of its origin, you couldn’t prove it anymore than you could prove you hadn’t slept together that night.

The general consensus of ‘You’ve done no wrong’ quickly changed to ‘How could you do that?’ after rumour spread that you had slept together before John had officially ended things with Abigail.

Looking back, you feared you had worsened the situation by buying into it. Telling people that even if it were true, they were still separated; had led people to believe it was true. You regretted it, more for John’s sake than your own. You thought of these people as your family. But these people were his family and had been for over half his life. The damage done by the entire situation was breaking him. You could see it in the way he looked at you. Hear it in the way he spoke.

You hated to admit it. But this morning part of you was worried you would find Old Boy hitched on the edge of the cliff and John’s mangled body at the bottom.

You looked at him now, your own teeth clenched as you tried to find the words to let him know you weren’t going anywhere. That he hadn’t risked all for nothing. You would stay and you would listen. You would wear the criticism and backhanded comments with an air of pride as long as you were making him happy.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” You whispered, shuffling closer so your sides were touching.

John jumped at the initial contact, head snapping back to look at where you’d bumped against him before he seemed to relax, turning his gaze back to the ground.

“I understand if you want to, deep down.” He mumbled, not really moving his lips as he spoke. “You wouldn’t be the only one.”

You winced at that, hand on his thigh squeezing once more as you leaned in to kiss the mark on his cheek. He jolted away out of reflex before settling himself down and letting his forehead rest on your own cheek.

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re feelin’?” You asked quietly, hand coming up to run through his long hair and massage his scalp. He moaned against you softly, shuddering at the feeling.

“Not feelin’ anything.” He said against your shoulder, eyes staring blankly at the stitching on your collar.

Your lips tightened, eyes flicking towards him as you removed your hand from his head and waited. It took a few seconds before he realised you were done. Sitting back to look at you sadly as you raised your brows in question.

“What?” He asked, looking away. You could tell he wanted you to drop it. To just pretend it hadn’t happened and move on like you’d done that first night.

“What was all that about?” You asked, gesturing back in the direction of camp, his eyes rolling at your question.

“Just drop it will ya?” He asked, annoyance in his tone as he stared out over the valley. The sun now having fully risen above the mountain was tingling their skin with warmth as it worked to rise enough to shade them under the trees above.

You stayed silent, feeling the mood shift. His demeanour hadn’t changed but something was different. You didn’t want to push him too hard, lest he fling himself over the cliff in front of your eyes.

“It’s just…” He started, crossing his arms and huffing indignantly. “It’s… dumb.” He said weakly, trailing off from his train of thought.

You watched on sadly. Brows furrowed as he sniffed audibly. Shoulders shuddering momentarily before he managed to compose himself enough to stop them.

His eyes were squinting in the morning sun. Face scrunched into a scowl as he blinked back his emotions.

He obviously wanted to talk. Not sure how to go about it or if he would be judged for what he was going to say. Perhaps he stopped himself because he felt you would be offended by his statement.

“I’m sure it’s not.” You probed. Deciding that if he truly wanted you to drop it, he wouldn’t have spoken.

“I’m just…” He paused, questioning if he really had the emotional stability he would need to talk about his feelings without breaking down. He swallowed, taking a calming breath before continuing. “I’m really trying.” He said simply, voice cracking on the last word as his face crumpled and he brought his hands up to cover it.

You made a sound of acknowledgement, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and squeezing his opposite arm tightly.

He let you, too busy in his own mind to push you away. He admonished himself harshly for thinking he could vent a little bit without opening the gates entirely. It had been such a long time since he’d cried, properly cried and not just let a few tears slip when he was heavy on the drink. He’d been holding in years of unpleasant feelings and lately he’d been struggling. Feeling particularly vulnerable at inopportune times and taking playful jabs way too seriously.

He choked on his words of apology. Mumbling nonsense into his palms as he finally began to let it all out.

“I… I been tryin’ so…” He paused, stumbling over his wording. “So… hard.” He stuttered, shaking uncontrollably under the weight of his own words.

You shushed him lightly, hand squeezing soothingly as you gently pulled him towards you. He let himself fall, head resting on your chest as he huffed quietly, his breathing uneven.

Once he was resting his weight against you, you moved your hand to his back. Running the pads of your fingers lightly up and down his spine and encouraging him to breath in the same slow pattern. He obliged, slowly but surely calming as his breathing began to return to normal. His leaking eyes burning as he struggled to stop the flow of tears he regretted letting go of.

“I don’t… I don…” He stammered, cutting himself off. He already felt so damn weak. Nerves grating on the feeling of helplessness.

You shook your head, other hand coming up to run through his hair once more and then down against his unmarred cheek. You pressed lightly, encouraging him to look at you. He reluctantly did so, red rimmed eyes sheepishly averting as he caught your look of sympathy.

You could tell he was on the verge of shutting down. Composing himself and bottling it all back up until the next time, whenever that may be. All of the thoughts and feelings would come back twice as hard. Knocking against him when he least expects it and finally pushing him off the precipice he had so delicately been balancing on since long before you met him.

Since Jack was born.

“It’s okay.” You cooed, holding him tighter in an effort to make him feel safe. “You can tell me anythin’, you know that.” You whispered gently, the feeling of him slowly coming undone almost physical as his dam-wall broke apart in your arms.

He stuttered uncontrollably, breath hitching almost constantly as he tried his hardest to tell you how he was feeling. Words broken and slurred as he let you in on his darkest thoughts. His deepest fears.

“I been tryin’ so… so hard with Jack.” He cried against your breast. Pressing himself closer to you as if he could hide from your judgement. “She… she told me… I…” He stammered, cutting himself off as deep, wracking sobs overtook his ability to speak.

You shushed him lightly. Making sure to let him know it wasn’t his words you were trying to stop. You wanted to hear it all. Wanted him to let it out and get it in the open so you could calm his tears and all his insecurities.

He was mortified, you could tell by the way he kept trying to hide his face. Wiping at it irately as if being annoyed with his tears would stop them.

You supposed you would be embarrassed too if the situations were reversed. Your relationship was relatively new, even if it had already felt like a lifetime. He was scared of your judgement. Afraid you were going to leave once you’d seen what a wimp he really was.

You reassured him once more that you weren’t leaving. Making it clear you were staying put without his prompting. Hoping it felt more genuine that way.

He seemed to calm down a little after you spoke. Sobs turning to uneven breaths as you resumed running your hand up and down his back at a slow pace.

He followed your movements, long soothing breaths making him weary after his emotional collapse.

“She told me… I weren’t tryin’ hard enough with Jack.” He said finally, nearly getting through the entire sentence without a hitch. His arms wrapped around your waist loosened, falling slack as he took a deep breath and pushed himself to sit up.

You took in his dishevelled appearance, feeling a pang to your heart at the sight of him. Your hand came up automatically to brush his hair behind his ear as he turned to look at you with the saddest eyes you’d ever seen.

“She said I ruined his life breakin’ up his parents. Said he’d never be happy again.” He elaborated, barely above a whisper. You smiled sympathetically, hands cupping his cheeks as you leaned into brush your lips against his. He let you, not closing his eyes as you kissed him. Wanting to see as well as feel you.

“You know that ain’t true.” You said against his lips, thumbs swiping under his eyes to wipe away some of the wetness. He paused, nodding hesitantly as if he didn’t really believe it but felt he had to agree for your sake.

“She hurt my feelings.” He admitted quietly. Voice so small you weren’t sure you had actually heard it. He looked away, pulling his face from your grip and you knew then that he had said what you thought. “I been tryin’ so hard.” He repeated for the third time. Driving home how much she had hurt him with her words and making your heart ache. You felt for him. You knew too well the pain of truly trying your hardest only to be shot down and slapped with a punishment for not putting in any effort.

“I know. I’ve seen you.” You stated as a conformation, smiling fondly to yourself at the memory him playing swords with Jack earlier in the week.

“I don’t know how to fix it.” He said simply, hands ringing together unconsciously as he worried his lip between his teeth. You frowned, taking his hands in yours and turning to face him fully.

“You don’t need to.” You stated firmly. “Jack is happy. Ain’t you heard the phrase don’t fix what’s not broke?”

John’s lips twitched at your wording. It was one of the things he loved about you. Your subtle wording that changed a common phrase ever so slightly to your own version.

“I meant… with Abigail.” He shifted uncomfortably at the admission. Your hands letting go of his as you looked at him in surprise. He grabbed at your hands frantically. Scrambling to correct himself and clarify. “Not… romantically.” He pressed. “Just… in general.”

You breathed a small sigh of relief. Closing your eyes for a second before focusing on his statement.

“You don’t have to hon.” You said softly. “You’ve been tryin’. I’ve seen you. It’s up to her to make things civil.”

John furrowed his brows. That didn’t seem quite right. He was sure it was his responsibility. She had made that clear from the start.

“I ended it. I hurt her.” He said blatantly, his tone questioning. “I have to make things right.”

You sighed, squeezing his hands tightly as you replied.

“There will be no right as long as you’re with me.”

John looked at you for a long moment. Eyes flicking between yours as he waited for more.

You watched as the realisation hit him. His red rimmed eyes beginning to water as he tensed his jaw once more. He stared at you, hurt plain as day across his face as he assessed your meaning.

“Can you live with that?” He asked, voice thick with emotion.

You took a moment to reflect. Really think about what you were going to say before you responded. To make sure you really meant it.

“Yes.” You smiled. “You’re worth it.” You said, taking his face in your hands once more and pressing your forehead against his.

You felt his cheeks rise. Teeth bumping against your lips as he attempted to kiss you through his smile.

“So are you.” He whispered.

End

~~~

PLEASE let me know if you liked it/What you liked! I am dying for comments on my fics and it’s to the point where I’m not above begging for feedback.

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