#this was in response to me telling her about him moving the Golden Gate Bridge

[emotionalsupportdilf]

When you’re live messaging your friend while watching the xmen movies

#couldn’t have put it better myself #this was in response to me telling her about him moving the Golden Gate Bridge #and the football stadium #I’m literally scream laughing #magneto #erik lehnsherr #xmen days of future past #xmen first class #X2 #x men #xmen the last stand

[thegeneralguy]

The Champion of Olympus - Poseidon´s Passion

Out of all the three realms connected to the earth, the sea was by far the most extensive one. An entire underwater universe lurked beneath the surface, with more diversity in its inhabitants than both heaven and earth. Poseidon was the ruler of that realm, with the responsibility of maintaining the planet itself in balance. Oceanic currents and tectonic movement were crucial for the mortals´ survival. The god of the sea had inherited the realm after the Titanomachy, given to him by the true embodiment of the sea, Oceanus. He and his titan spouse had given birth to many of the phenomena Poseidon had to keep in check.

But the normally boisterous god was unusually quiet, sitting down in his chariot heading back to the cold depths of his kingdom. The words of his brothers resonated within him. Could it really be possible for Typhon to escape? And more importantly, would he be able to protect all the creatures under his rule? Keeping balance was Poseidon´s primary priority, which made the whole situation even more alarming for him. He took the reins tying the hippocampi pulling his chariot and pressured them to move faster. He had to reach the Oceanic Retreat, also known as the sunken city of Atlantis, to consult with the court about his next course of action.

The palace was located in the center of the underwater capital, adorned with bright gems and bright colorful coral. The city was so deep under the sea, it was unreachable by Apollo´s power. But despite the lack of sunlight, luminescent beings shone brightly to light the streets and buildings. Poseidon´s chariot floated over the gates of the palace and parked on one of the numerous sea gardens, which were filled with creatures and coral normally found on superficial reefs. Triton, Poseidon´s heir, and most trusted advisor greeted him from the gates of the palace.

"That bad huh?"

He asked as soon as he caught a glimpse of the god´s grim visage. The muscular deity approached his son carrying his massive trident with ease, the muscles in his arm pulsing with supernatural strength. The strength to make the earth shake and the ocean rise. Both gods rushed inside the palace to his throne room, while Poseidon put Triton up to date. The young deity was eager to learn the ways of Olympus, for when it was his turn to rise to the throne, so he listened carefully every time his father complained about their extended family.

"How fitting of uncle Zeus to find a way to try to compete with all of you. But if what he and Hades said is right, then we have no time to waste."

"It won´t be so easy son. Our job is to keep balance, and granting divinity to a mortal can very much upset the natural equilibrium of the planet. Just remember where we´re standing right now."

The city of Atlantis, once a thriving metropolis of the ancient world, had fallen victim to the whims of a fallen hero´s delirium and a heavenly dispute. After being defeated by the patron city of Poseidon´s niece, the Atlanteans fell into despair. They managed to get the favor of the god of the sea, who granted power beyond belief to their heroic leader. But this human wasn´t meant to rise as a new god, so the rest of Olympus rejected him, and punished the city by sinking it to the depths of the ocean.

While Triton pondered on his father´s worries, they reached the throne room. A glowing golden throne adorned with all kinds of underwater flora and fauna was in the center of the room, surrounded by a half-circle of different chairs more modest, but still ornamental to symbolize the sea´s royalty. Poseidon stood in front of his throne and slammed the enormous trident on the ground, producing an explosive sound that resonated within the entire ocean.

After a couple of seconds, the god of the sea´s call was answered by the most prominent figures in the oceanic realm. A representative for both the Oceanids, sea nymphs and the Potamoi, the rivers of the world, were the first to appear. Poseidon´s spouse Amphitrite also arrived fast and took her place right next to her husband. Polyphemus came next, the representative for the cyclops who were all devoted to the god of the sea. The old man of the sea, Nereus himself, showed up next. His relationship with Poseidon was more like a truce than a hierarchy, but Nereus´ connection to the ocean realm´s mortal creatures, including his daughters, was a good reason to keep him as an ally. The last one to show up was Styx, the embodiment of the river of the same name coursing through Hades´ realm.

As the court of the sea assembled, Triton took his seat on the right of his father and watched as the gigantic god paraded his muscular physique floating across the room.

"As some of you may know, I was summoned by Zeus for an emergency meeting. It seems the original monster is trying to break free from Tartarus. Is that true Styx?"

Automatically all eyes turned to the river´s seat expectantly. After Hades and the chthonic gods, the underworld river was supposed to know all the happenings of the realm.

"I have heard some rumors, but Lord Hades hasn´t told me anything. Things feel pretty normal in the underworld though. I haven´t sensed any fluctuations within my currents, which are pretty sensitive for any changes in the realm."

"That's very strange, but the fates wouldn´t lie. There is no way they would fall victims of a simple rumor."

Answered Poseidon meditating on the river´s answer. Styx was known to be direct and efficient, seeking to form a bridge between the realms so mortal souls reached their resting space safely. It wouldn´t bother to try and deceive the rest of the deities, especially on such a delicate matter. But then, who was lying? Triton raised from his seat and continued talking, trying to explain the situation his father was telling him about a couple of minutes ago.

"It seems the king of the gods has called for a new Champion to be chosen."

"Is that true Poseidon?"

Asked Amphitrite looking at her husband with worry in her eyes. Poseidon´s days of violence ended eons ago, and she was worried a heavenly competition like the trial of the Champion was going to get the worst out of her husband again.

"Zeus commanded each of the twelve Olympians to choose a champion. As you can imagine, I´m very reluctant to do so again."

Answered Poseidon with a serious tone. The last thing he wanted was to put his subjects through another catastrophe, but something smelled fishy in the whole situation. He wasn´t keen on trusting his family, but the odds were too high. He had to assume the worst in order to prepare. Nereus rose from his seat, his long white beard filled with barnacles floating around him, and talked in a raspy voice that sounded like a shipwreck crashing in the bottom of the sea.

"You have to make a choice Poseidon. We cannot risk Typhon getting out, it would mean extinction for our kind. Your newfound love for balance will have to wait until this situation is resolved."

"How dare you tell me how I should act old man. Remember I am the god of the sea, one of the twelve Olympians, and your ruler. I know what is best for my kingdom."

Growled Poseidon angrily, as his trident caused the floor to shake with fury. Nereus smirked slightly, knowing he reached the god´s weakest spot: his authoritarian nature. No matter how he tried to hide it, Poseidon was infatuated by battle and carnage. And he was going to demonstrate to all the sea that the king still had the will of expanding the realm. A Champion of the sea on earth would create the perfect opportunity to take over the terrestrial plane.

"Leave the sentimentalism aside Poseidon. You have to make a choice. Will you risk the present´s balance to secure the future?"

Everyone looked at the silent god of the sea. Poseidon hated Nereus, but he was right. Balance is not worth it if the future is put in doubt. He had made his choice. As hard as it was, he had to gift a mortal again with divinity. Triton stared worriedly at his father. The advisor knew what his king was capable of, and it scared him. But in the end, the risk had to be worth the benefits. He reached to touch his father´s giant shoulder.

"Father…"

Poseidon then raised his trident, as a powerful twisting current propelled him upwards, going through the open roof and heading for the surface. If his brothers wanted a Champion, they were going to have one. For the sake of the ocean, and the balance of the future.

  It was a peculiarly cold day on top of the St. Helena frigate. Ltjg. Gabo Ramirez was making his usual rounds on the top deck, making sure everyone was doing their respective tasks. The young man had joined the navy in hopes of finding some stability in his chaotic life. He had always felt attracted to the sea, its vast expanse offering the peace of mind that a problematic orphaned child needed. Growing up on the coast let him escape very often to meet his secret lover. He got infatuated when he was very young, and his mother was still alive. She took him to the beach every day to collect different treasures like seashells or pieces of broken coral in order to make jewelry out of them. Young Gabo felt proud he was helping support his widowed mother.

His father was a fisherman, but he barely had any memory of him, because he died when Gabo was barely a toddler. His mother told him his fishing ship sank during one of the common hurricanes predating on the beautiful Caribbean coast. But even though the sea had taken one of his progenitors away, Gabo couldn´t help but fall deeper in love with it. As he grew up, money grew tight. His mother tried desperately to provide for her son, so he could go to school and do something with his life. Life pushed her to more desperate means, selling herself so her son could have a future. In the end, things turned out grim for the poor boy.

He still remembered the stormy night when someone knocked on the door of their little apartment. A tall police officer told him the bad news. They found her on a bench close to the harbor. His mother died trying to protect her son. His childhood ended on that instant, and he was thrown down an administrative rabbit hole that turned his life into a living nightmare. He jumped from orphanages to foster homes over and over again. He felt like the world had betrayed him, taking his greatest love away from him. The sweet child turned into a sour teenager, who caused trouble and mischief wherever he went. His only refuge was still the sea. After all that had happened, it was the only place where Gabo felt grounded and alive. After his mother passed away it became his greatest love.

After he miraculously made his way through school, he decided to leave Puerto Rico and enlist in the U.S. navy. He was conscious his life needed to take a turn for the better, so he was mentally prepared for whichever challenge the tough military system was going to throw at him. The problem was, he was not physically ready for them, struggling through the first years of training. A life of chaos had left him with a scrawny underfed body, which was agile enough to get him swiftly out of trouble, but not strong enough to face it.

He remained adamant on his decision, and he endured the painful years of training, swallowing his deep survival instinct of fleeing before he was entirely committed. Gabo was used to swiftly getting out of trouble, thanks to his more cowardly nature. But he studied hard, put his life on track, and was rewarded for it. Now he got to spend a life together with his love, the sea, watching its waves flow into the horizon. A blue paradise extended before him.

Ltjg. Ramirez diverted his gaze from the ocean and went back to realizing his tasks to their full extent. The frigate was on standby close to the arctic sea, between Greenland and Europe, so there wasn´t a lot to do. The wind outside was pretty cold, nothing but dark water and a few small icebergs in the surroundings. He went back into the ship to finish his active shift and get something to eat in the cafeteria.

"Hey, Ramirez! Come here, we´re playing poker. This asshole has been running his mouth about beating you all afternoon!"

Said Lt. March calling him to one of the tables, where some of his crewmates were gathered. The person running his mouth was Lt. Krass. He and March were Ramirez´s superiors, but they had grown to like the mousy kid. His skills in gambling were known on the whole ship and made his crewmates and some of his superiors very interested in testing his skills. Life on the streets had taught him everything he needed to know to be a good gambler, and he had a good poker face to finish his killer combination.

"I can gladly take all your money off of you sir."

Said Ramirez laughing as he sat on the table to play with the cards. Sailors had to enjoy every second of interaction, or else they started suffering some mental issues that came with the constant isolation and lack of new stimuli.

"I´m telling you kid if you didn´t look like a toothpick I would´ve beaten your ass for taking a week´s worth of salary."

Said the much bigger Lt. March in an intimidating way, but just with the right amount of joyfulness to let Gabo know he was joking. He could probably pick the small junior lieutenant and throw him overboard if he felt like it.

"Give him a break March. It´s not his fault you´re a dumb player. Besides, I´ll get that money and will take you to a nice bar with it when we touch land again."

Laughed the equally big Krass punching his mate on the shoulder. In fact, Ramirez was probably the smallest man on board. The 24-year-old barely made the height cut on the recruiting process, and although he had gained some muscle mass from the rigorous training, it wasn´t enough to get close to his crewmate´s giant sizes. But his appearance was what caused his crewmates and superiors to gain a certain fondness for the young recruit. He was the runt of the litter.

After a while of laughing at Krass´s dumbfound expression as Ramirez managed to beat him and take all his money as well, the boys called off the night and everyone was in their chambers by curfew. Ramirez laid on his bed feeling the soft movement of the waves rocking his bed, enjoying the sensation. He thought about his mother and the beach in his childhood, as his memories carried him to deep sleep, completely ignorant of the approaching menace on the cold waters of the ocean.

 All sailors woke up at five in the morning, swiftly getting out of bed and lining up to clean themselves. Gabo woke up agitated. He had a strange feeling, but he couldn´t exactly distinguish what was going on. He also had strange dreams that night, about a giant black whale stalking the tumbling frigate, whilst he watched powerlessly from the deck of the ship.

"Not a very good night kid? It must be that guilty conscience for stealing from your favorite superior."

Said Lt. March, who was directly in line in front of him. Ramirez managed to get a nervous laugh out.

"It´s nothing, sir. Just a bad dream."

March looked at him with concern. He really cared for the well being of his subordinates, and he was worried being on the sea for so long was starting to take its toll on the novice sailor. He knew the young junior lieutenant was very passionate about his work, but he was still inexperienced to recognize the effects of long-term isolation.

"Listen Ramirez. I´m your superior, but we´re a team. There´s not a lot to do today, so why don't you take it easy just for a day."

The young recruit smiled broadly at the big man in front of him.

"Thanks, sir, but I can handle work. I know what I signed up for."

Lt. March smiled back, impressed at the discipline of his subordinate. This kid was going to go far he thought, as both made their way into the small shower cabin. While they were undressing, Krass approached March and whispered something to him quietly. Ramirez couldn´t hear a word, but judging by March´s expression it wasn´t good news. Krass then left the bathroom, and March turned around to face Ramirez. His big chest was inches away from Gabo´s face, and his lower part was tightly covered by a small towel.

It wasn´t a secret Ramirez was into both men and women. All his crewmates respected his orientation and felt comfortable around him. So much they didn´t mind parading themselves naked from time to time, testing the young recruit´s self-control. It was harder in the beginning, but now Gabo was used to it, casually having conversations with his fellow naked sailors. He still enjoyed the show, only silently and respectfully. He has had few sexual experiences in the past, but nothing to boast about. Still, his crew was untouchable for him, the comradery far outweighing the lust.

March was another story though. The man sported an impressive physique build through years and years of discipline and hard training. His chest was very prominent, followed by a big muscular gut that was still a couple of inches behind. Powerful arms capable of pulling even the heaviest anchor hung to his side, and tree trunk legs supported the almost 300 pounds man. He was also a good head taller than Ramirez, making the younger sailor a dwarf in comparison. Even though Ramirez tried his best, he couldn´t help but feel a certain level of attraction for the muscular man. After gawking at his superior´s body for enough time, Gabo looked up to hear what he was about to say.

"It seems there is a storm heading our way. It´s gonna be a full day of work after all Ramirez. You´ll get your chance to shine."

Ltjg. Ramirez never faced an open sea storm on his few months on board, so he didn´t know what to expect. A feeling in his gut was telling him to pretend he was sick to stay under the deck, but Gabo was no coward. He was going to do his work and prove why he was there among those big burly men. He finished showering and looked at himself in the mirror.

His dark brown hair was neatly cut in a conscription cut, perfectly square and short. His young face had a scar on his chin product of a street brawl a couple of years ago, but his features still retained the innocent look that came with youth. His beautiful light brown skin was free of any blemishes. His smooth body had slight muscle definition, but more because of little body fat than actual lean mass. He quickly glanced inside the towel to look at his manhood. He couldn´t be disappointed because there were smaller dicks around, but he was nowhere near to someone endowed. He was more like on the average to the low part of the scale. He was feeling good and confident about himself today. Gabo quickly put on his uniform and rushed outside to start his tasks for the day.

He headed up the deck to quickly brush the floors, check the analog temperature measurements and check that the lifeboats were in a good state. People quickly mobilized after news of the storm spread around. The captain made a formal announcement during lunch, telling the crew they should brace for the storm in the early hours of the night. No one seemed to be too scared about it, making their usual jokes and talking loudly lie every day. Still, the feeling in the pit of his stomach was starting to bother Ramirez. He had a bad feeling about today. And as a kid from the street, Gabo knew trusting his feelings was crucial for survival. The nerves were causing him to barely touch his food.

Lt. March noticed the kid staring quietly at his tray. It was unusual for the lively Latin kid to go dead silent, so he approached and sat down next to him.

"Don´t worry kid, it´s just a storm. Occupational hazards. It will be gone sooner than you think."

Even though Ramirez loved the sea, storms were always a cause of anxiety for him. He was reminded that a storm killed his father. And worse of all, a storm was raging the night he found out about his mother. Storms were a bad omen for him. He turned around to face the rugged, but the concerned face of his superior.

"I trust you, sir. It´s just I have a bad history with storms."

"I assure you kid, it´s gonna be a better night than one with you taking all my money."

The light-hearted joke made both men laugh, as the tense aura around Gabo dissipated. He trusted his lieutenant. He saw in him the father figure he never had. They finished eating their meal and dispersed around the ship to finish the preparations for the bad forecast. When the sun started setting down is when the dark clouds started gathering over the frigate. Strong winds pushed everything exposed to the surface, and increasingly agitated waves crashed against the ship, making the most remote corners of the shell creak under the water´s pressure. Ramirez finished his tasks on deck and looked to the horizon for the last time of the day. An ominous dark mass was approaching the ship. Little droplets started falling from the sky. They were the last preface of what was about to come. The junior lieutenant went back under deck quickly as the slow rain turned into a tempestuous downpour.

He found his crewmates in the cafeteria as usual, but there were no games this time. Everyone was eating quietly, expectant of the first order barked through the loudspeakers. March wasn´t there, nor Krass. Ramirez assumed that command was having a meeting about the current situation. He sat down on a corner with his tray, unable to take a bite. All his instincts were telling him to run, to get out of there swiftly, so he could survive. Ramirez was fighting his innate fleeing nature. He kept reassuring himself why he got enlisted, why he was doing everything he was told to. He wanted stability, he craved it. But a part of him didn´t want to leave his past self behind. It was what kept him alive for so long after all. But he couldn´t go back to fleeing from his problem. And most important of all he couldn´t let his crew know he was so scared. Bravery in the face of adversity was a virtue after all. This little sacrifice was for his future self, and no one else.

The sailors left the cafeteria quietly. One by one they retired to their chambers. Ramirez followed his crewmates and was able to go to bed early as he didn´t have any guard shift that night. He zoned out for a while, unable to reach deep sleep. After a few hours, around midnight, the alarm made him jump out of bed and get dressed. He got out of his chambers to see all his crewmates heading for the upper doors. The hallway was lit red, and a reverberating sound echoed through the passages of the frigate. Ramirez tried his best not to fall due to what he assumed was disorientation until the entire crew including him were thrown to the side. He wasn´t dizzy, it was the waves crashing against the ship that caused it to rock back and forth intensively.

When he made it to the upper deck, his fellow sailors were all running to their stations. Many went to prepare the lifeboats, while others reinforced the previously tied up materials so the storm couldn´t blow them again. Ramirez went to his emergency station next to the edge to secure the supplies he was supposed to. The sky was completely painted black, like the furious sea bellow him. Rain poured down intensively, and an icy wind blew with all force against the ship and its crew. Ramirez was freezing, his frail body more exposed thanks to its lack of body mass, and the tempestuous currents kept throwing him around like a little leaf during an autumn breeze.

A big wave crashed against the frigate, making the vessel lean completely to the opposite side. One of the crates on the opposite side of Ramirez got untied and came sliding fast towards the terrified recruit, who was holding on to the rails on the edge for his life. He turned around just on time to see the giant box charging against him, and closed his eyes preparing for the inevitable. He immediately heard his name echo in the distance and felt a powerful pair of hands push him from the back out of the crate´s trajectory. Ramirez looked back just in time to see his protector Lt. March flies off the board into the raging waters below.

"Lt. March!"

Screamed the tearful junior lieutenant. His fear was completely erased in an instant, triggering his quick reaction speed. He grabbed a safety rope next to him and without thinking he threw himself into the mouth of the beast. The black waters of the sea swallowed him whole. The only thing he felt was a bone-chilling sensation taking over his entire body, as he swam in the direction of his superior.

"Kid what are you doing here?! You crazy son of a bitch!"

Said March in a mixture of awe, anger, and gratefulness.

"It´s my duty to protect my crew lieutenant! Quick, grab the rope!"

He handed over the rope to the more experienced March, who started tying a strong knot so the crew could pull them out. Their brief moment of relief ended in an instant, as another giant wave stroke from their side this time, separating the young Ramirez from his lieutenant. The crew started pulling the rope, just to get only March back on board. The big man immediately perched on the edge and frantically searched with his eyes for the young subordinate.

"Ramirez! Ramirez!"

But only darkness remained, with no sight of the young recruit. Meanwhile, Ramirez struggled to swim against a powerful current. He considered himself a good swimmer, having grown close to the water. But no matter how hard he kicked and flailed, the underwater stream kept pulling him downwards. The cold was starting to numb his senses, as he let out a last bubble of breath and his unconscious body was dragged into the infinite abyss.

 Ramirez then woke up surrounded by complete darkness. He was laying on a rocky wet floor, dripping wet and feeling breathless. He coughed a couple of times, expelling a good amount of water out of his lungs. He stood up, but couldn't see anything around him. There was no breeze, no sound, absolutely nothing. He was about to take a step when a strong voice made him freeze in his tracks.

"Lt. Ramirez. I´ve been looking for someone like you."

"Who are you? Where am I?"

"Those questions don´t matter anymore child. You´re under my protection, that´s all that matters."

He then heard a resounding metallic sound against the rocky floor and was completely shocked by what he saw. The trident of the god of the sea emitted a powerful glow, which then seeped into the cracks on the bedrock bellow to illuminate Ramirez´s surroundings. He was inside a big air compartment under what it seemed to be the ocean, and in front of him was an extremely muscular man holding a giant trident. Poseidon then approached the young lieutenant, holding up his chin with his strong hand.

"You will do just fine. Your potential is unmeasurable, and you know the meaning of suffering and the price of balance. A noble soul like you will be of great use to me and my realm."

"I have to get back to my ship sir. Please help me, my crew is in danger."

Said Ramirez nervously while he scanned the god in front of him with his eyes. The prominent chest was probably as wide as Ramirez holding both of his arms to his sides, with strong protruding abdominal muscles supporting it. He had the biggest arms he had ever seen, even among the famous bodybuilders he always liked to watch on the internet. His lower body was even more powerful. He was only wearing the lower part of a short white robe, with gold accessories adorning his wrists and belt. Two penetrating blue eyes glowed like the deepest of oceans, set as the highlight of a rugged but beautiful face. The cherry on top was a luscious chestnut-colored beard falling right on top of his upper chest. Poseidon noticed the way this kid was looking at him and smiled broadly. He liked his ego stroked like all the gods.

"The ship was spared. But that passion is what I´m looking for. A loving protector, who is strong enough to crush anything on his way."

He pointed his trident towards the young lieutenant and smiled.

"Meet me on the base of Mount Olympus in Greece by the next full moon. I will grant you the true love of my kingdom, in exchange for your loyalty and strength. I´m counting on you."

A blue light came out of the trident, completely enveloping Ramirez. The cold sensation was gone, together with the exhaustion he felt before regaining consciousness. When the light faded, Poseidon was gone. The air bubble around him started popping, letting water in again. Ramirez was quickly swallowed by the ocean, having only time to briefly hold his breath. Once he could not hold it any longer, he coughed only to find out he was able to breathe normally underwater. He also thought about how he practically was immune to the pressure of the sea above him, not feeling any strain on his body.

He took off his uniform so he could swim better, leaving him only wearing the pair of black boxer shorts he had on, and started exploring his surroundings. The light the trident had infused on the ground remained there and formed a path leading the young sailor forward into the darkness. After swimming for a while, he found the strangest creature he had ever seen. A beautiful horse with the tail of a fish was waiting at the end of the illuminated road. The animal looked at Ramirez, and he immediately knew what he had to do. He floated towards the hippocampus, and rode on its back, grabbing its neck as the animal swiftly swam towards the surface.

He must have been pretty deep thought Ramirez because it took a long time until he saw the weak rays of sunlight replace the absolute darkness he was in before. He could feel the water caressing his body, but it opposed little resistance to the fast creature and the young sailor on top. It also wasn´t cold like before, but getting warmer the more the sea horse carried him through the vastness of the ocean. He was fascinated by its massive expanse and could feel its sheer power pulsating through the water.

They passed all kinds of sea creatures like schools of fishes, dolphins and even a few whales. Ramirez´s connection with the sea grew stronger, together with his love for it. He was so enthralled by the fascinating view in front of him that he missed the sensation the stronger current was causing on his body. The swirling water quickly surrounded him, tying him to the back of the hippocampus and constraining his limbs. Ramirez felt a dull pain product of the waters slowly pulling his limbs and spine further away from each other, rapidly adding inches to his height until the formerly short sailor reached a towering 7 feet height. The pulling didn´t stop there though, as each bone grew to form the canvas for the muscle that was coming in next.

The warm water caressed and massaged each individual muscle, transferring the titanic strength of the ocean to them. The legs holding on to the hippocampus started growing first. It looked like water was being pumped directly into his skin. Quadriceps strong enough to crush rocks between them formed on his upper legs, with edges carving themselves out of the gigantic muscles. His calves were pulled apart and rearranged by the current until two diamond-shaped calves replaced the former toothpick lower legs. His feet grew even bigger for a man his size, necessary for the swift propulsion underwater. The growth moved to his butt cheeks, the sensation finally making Ramirez aware of what was happening to him. He felt a strong cramp in his ass, as both glutei raised further and further from the back of the sea horse. His underwear strained to the maximum under the pressure of the new watermelon-sized ass cheeks.

Ramirez watched his lower body turn into the one of a card-carrying professional bodybuilder. The sensations invading his body were too intense for him to remain calm. He felt incredible awe for the creatures that were crossing through his sight. He felt the warm and pleasurable caress of the water on his body. He felt the strong rocking of the hippocampus´ swimming. And he felt a crushing pain as the pressure in the water reformed his body. He let go of the creature to grab his stomach in pain. He felt like the water was suctioning each individual brick in his abdomen out, and he was quickly left with a powerful eight pack cut into his midsection. His Adonis belt protruded out of his sides, and his serratus muscles carved themselves so deep it looked like the man had developed gills.

Ramirez then felt the current push him from the back of the sea horse, and the sailor fell to the back watching the creature swim away from him. He immediately began swimming trying to reach it, but his newly developed lower body still moved clumsily lacking the coordination needed to move such a heavy mass. Ramirez focused all of his strength on reaching the hippocampus when suddenly a strong water current propelled him forward and he was able to reach the creature. He then realized he was practically flying underwater, enjoying the freedom of moving like a torpedo through the ocean. He swam graciously together with the hippocampus, both dancing synchronized to the rhythm of the waters.

Small whirlpools formed around his brown nipples, sending waves of pleasure through the man and increasing their size to fit into the new gigantic chest that was about to come. His pectoral muscles squared on the lower end, and then pushed further out inflating like two water mattresses. The water was putting so much pressure on his upper body the sailor felt his bones were going to get crushed. Ramirez was left with a herculean chest powerful enough to fight the roaring waves of a tsunami. His shoulders were next, as each deltoid inflated bigger than cannonballs with enough strength to lift an anchor above his head.

He then felt the current pull his arms so hard he thought they were going to be ripped apart. The pressure in his muscles made him wince in pain, while his triceps dripped and grew like marlin´s dorsal fin, pushing the former noodles to the sides of his body, and his biceps inflated like water balloons about to pop due to their sheer size. Massive sinews formed on his upper arms, and his hands grew massively muscular, wide enough to push large amounts of water on a single stroke.

He examined both of his new arms when a cramp in his back made him bend forward and scream in pain. He felt the water vibrating on his spine, spreading the sensation to every muscle like a flare. The upper back started extending and rounding up like a turtle shell, and the lats on each side protruded so far, he looked more like a giant T instead of a V. His back was by far the strongest muscle on his body, designed to propel the new man through the chaotic waters with ease.

The current then swirled around his neck, starting to choke him. The traps raised to connect to his ears and complete the growth of the monstrous back. He could hear his grumble grow lower as his neck expanded with muscle, leaving his head looking like a tiny pin on a godly body. The pain was overwhelming the young sailor. He opened his mouth to let out a painful scream when suddenly water flowed into his body with intensity. Veins started popping out of his limbs, improving the oxygen saturation, and therefore endurance for the giant.

Large veins popped on his lower abdomen, and then he felt an excruciating pressure pushing behind his manhood. His penis then started inflating, far surpassing the limits of the already strained underpants, which were ripped off by the strong currents. His newly improved appendage kept growing and pulsing so much, Ramirez thought it was going to explode. It stopped growing at almost a foot in length, and a jaw-breaking girth. It looked like a glass bottle that was hanging from his legs. His balls were next, inflating to an equine size and falling heavy between his monstrous legs.

Male hormones combined with divine power started flowing through his body, boosted by the invading water current inside of him. He felt a cracking pressure on his head, which grew proportional to the new body size. His angular face grew more masculine, his jaw broadening into a thick square, and his brow pushing further over his eyes giving him a menacing look. His nose then cracked and widened, while his lips plumped a bit more. His already short dark brown hair retreated into his scalp, leaving him with a short buzz cut. The amount of testosterone in his body was so high, his hairline receded a little bit. His face was then invaded by a permanent shadow with the potential of growing a thick beard. The rest of his body sucked in his body hair, leaving his smooth. His beautiful brown skin darkened a bit more. His pores then started producing a small amount of oil, that gave him a shiny look and helped him oppose little resistance to the forces of the sea, making underwater travel far easier.

The current then stopped forcing its way into his body and released his limbs from their invisible shackles. Ramirez started touching his body incredulously, incapable of dimensioning the change he just went through. He felt the raw power of the sea pulse within him. He touched his face and felt his young skin under his fingers. His scar was gone too. The sight of the new man might have been bizarre, due to him still looking young despite his overwhelming masculinity. Ramirez was so distracted by his new body, that he missed the waters getting slowly more superficial and the hippocampus turning around and leaving back into the abyss.

The sailor propelled himself further into the shallowing waters when he was suddenly greeted by the figure of a beautiful young man sitting on an underwater rock. He couldn´t be older than the junior lieutenant, although his presence and demeanor felt older than civilization itself. His long hair flowed along with the current, glistening with silver light. He had the carved body of an Olympic swimmer, with defined and strong limbs made to love underwater and a very wide back developed from physical activity in the sea. He was also completely smooth, the only hair on his body remaining on his head, eyebrows, and long eyelashes. He beamed a white smile as radiant as the sun at the stranger.

Ramirez approached the young Adonis with a dumbfounded expression on his face. Even though his sexual experience was limited, he was very familiar with the feelings of lust invading his body. Only this time, they were overwhelmingly strong, almost clouding his entire conscience. The man got up from the rock and touched Gabo´s muscular chest.

"Father was right, you turned out better than expected."

He had a melodious hypnotic voice almost too beautiful to be coming out of a hunk like him. Ramirez looked down at the man caressing his body. His knees shook nervously, while he let himself be seduced by the apparition before him. But something in his mind suddenly snapped. He felt the pressure from before again, only this time inside his thoughts as if the water was rinsing the old cowardly nature of the sailor. For some reason, the situation didn´t feel right. He was the one supposed to be doing the seduction, not the other way around.

He took the young man from his legs and pulled him close to his body raising him to his same height. He then proceeded to passionately make out with the stud, both their tongues dancing in each other's mouth. Ramirez felt like sea spume was filling his head, making it harder and harder to focus. He started losing his grip on reality. Like waves carving and molding the strong rocks underneath, the magical power carved out a new man out of the young sailor. More and more dominance asserted itself into his persona, replacing the old more submissive nature. His body language was a dead giveaway of what was happening in his mind.

The sea hunk noticed how his lover´s kiss started to grow more aggressive, invading his mouth with a strong tongue. His big hands started squeezing the young man´s ass, ways of pleasuring a person during sex being engraved in his memory. Years of experience pushed their way into the new man, his face growing more rugged with lines of age and his body gaining more thickness that comes with years of labor. His giant manhood was already grown at full mast, stroking the cheeks of his prey like a sea serpent just before attacking and spreading his self-produced oil on his skin. The young man then guided the hard rod to the entrance of his body, pushing down ever so slightly to get the head in.

The hunk had been with many lovers before, but this was still considered to be a very big phallus. He carefully slid down in order to accommodate the muscular man´s size inside of him. Ramirez kept fighting the tide inside his head. He was scared of changing, of letting go of who he was. A part of him still wanted to flee and pretend none of this had happened. But remembering his hometown beach stopped his train of thought. He remembered the beautiful waters shining in the sunlight, of all the creatures dependent on them, from little crabs on the beach to the big metropolis of the world. The ocean´s ecosystem was the most important one in the world, and it had to be protected. The love he felt for the sea turned into a massive tidal wave inside of him that finally broke down all his mental barriers and completely dragged his old personality out of existence. He didn´t have to flee anymore, he possessed the strength to break the earth and part the ocean. He could destroy anything that got in his way of protecting what he loved.

Ltjg. Gabo Ramirez was reborn in the form of Gabriel, the name his mother had originally given him, and the new protector of the sea. The last bits of his personality evaporating like the sea breeze under the scorching sun. His young lover watched in awe as the eyes of the titan started to glow, and a deep blue color washed his former brown irises away. Once his manhood had entered the hunk completely, he started thrusting back and forth with the strength to shake the earth. He was a god among men, and he had the right to be pleased. Still, he liked to share the pleasure with his lovers, and care for them. He liked feeling like the strong protector he was born to be. The young sea hunk smiled broadly knowing the transformation was complete, and let himself be completely dominated and pleased by the titan inside of him.

 The sun was already setting when Gabriel came out of the warm waters. He wasn´t in the frosty northern sea anymore but the warm coasts of southern Greece. He was only wearing the bikini strap the young hunk had given him once they parted ways, along with a kiss and the promise of meeting him again. Gabriel looked at the vast sea before him and smiled. He was going to do whatever it took to protect his new home. He was going to honor his Lord´s will by conquering and crushing anything in his way. He still had a couple of days before the full moon, which should be enough to get to Mount Olympus. He then thought about all the life and all the pleasure he could have on his way. He was going to bless a lot of mortals with his sexual prowess. He took one last deep breath before heading inland, his nostrils filling with the salty smell of the sea breeze along with his own radiating masculine scent, his skin shimmering under the setting sun. The giant then disappeared into the prairie, ready for whatever challenge the world may throw at him.

In the distance sitting next to a cliff was Nereus, watching the newly chosen one walk towards his destiny. He found the Olympians obnoxious, but he had to admit they did a pretty fine handiwork. The new man looked like he jumped out of a perverted fever dream, with enough power to shatter the earth with each step.

"He really does feel like he looks, father."

A joyful voice said on the back. Nereus turned around to see his own son Nerites staring playfully at him. The young god loved to play around but was filled with respect for his father. The beautiful merman smiled broadly at the old man, who gave him an approving nod.

"Well done son. I knew Poseidon needed a little push. I´m glad to see his opus got your sign of approval."

"It´s going to be an interesting time after all. Life is just fun."

Said Nerites enthusiastically as both gods stared into the distance wondering about the Olympian´s intricate rivalries and plots in the sky.

#musclegrowth #transformation #championofolympus

[glenncoco4]

War Zone

A/N: Chapter 6. Some M.

••••

Present

If her eyes weren’t already closed they’d be rolling back in her head right now as his finger tips dig into her scalp, making her sink into the tub even further. Dear god she knew his hands were magic but this is euphoric. 

“How you doing, baby?”

She feels his breath hot against her ear, if she wasn’t so miserable, and over 39 weeks pregnant, they’d definitely be using this tub for other purposes. “Why won’t she just come out already?”

The whine in her voice makes his heart sink a little. These last few days have been hell for her and he so wishes he could, but he can’t take her pain away. This warm bath was the only thing he could think of to help her relax at least a little bit, but that doesn’t seem to be working either. Helpless isn’t even the right word for what he’s feeling right now. “I think its because you made such a nice home for her over the past 9 months that she just doesn’t want to leave.”

“Bullshit.”

“She’ll come when she’s ready.” He huffs a laugh before getting up from the stool and leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “In the mean time…” 

Her brow furrows at the sound of his retreating footsteps. Lifting her head up from the tub, she opens her eyes and is suddenly alone. “So you’re just gonna leave me here?” Getting no answer, she rolls her eyes. “If this is your idea of a sick joke, I’m-“

As he steps back in the room, Marty’s unable to keep the smile from his face seeing her mouth open in shock. Closing the distance, he pulls the stool to the side of the tub, sitting down with a tower of her favorite treat, 13 to be exact. He sits the tray on the counter and then takes one of the yellow snack cakes, unwrapping it as her hungry gaze watches his movements. 

Her eyes meet his as he extends the Twinkie towards her mouth, offering her a bite. If she weren’t already head over hills in love with him before, she most certainly is now. Yeah, being in this kinda pain sucks, but knowing he’s doing everything he can to make her feel better is one of the best feelings in the world. Leaning forward, she takes a bite, moaning in pleasure. “Mmmm, I love you.”

 “What a difference 13 years make, huh?”

“I remember being less fat before I met you.”

“You’re not fat, baby.”

“I look like a beached whale.”

“A very beautiful beached whale.”

Her bottom lip begins to quiver at his words as she lays a comforting hand across her protruding belly. “Did you just call me fat?”

His eyes go wide in panic, realizing just how wrong the sentence that left his mouth sounded. “No, I mean…you just-“

••••

May 12th, 2009

Her body shakes with anticipation as she makes her way down the jet bridge. It’s been 4 months, 4 long and treacherous months since she’s seen him…well in person that is. When he got his assignment to Egypt right after he finished following her team they were both devastated. It’s part of their jobs of course, they spent most of their dating life apart but there’s something about being married that makes it even more agonizing. Especially since the longest they’ve been together since tying the knot is 3 weeks.

As her Navy issued boots hit the terminal floor the chatter of the people around her and the announcer over the intercom fade, her mismatched orbs immediately scan the room. His flight was due to land an hour before hers and he was going to meet her at her gate. 

She’s briefly pulled out of her search at the sudden feel of tugging of her camouflaged dry fit. Looking down, the SEAL’s eyes meet beautifully innocent chocolate orbs, standing there with a shy smile on his face.

Sitting her bag down, Kensi crouches down, now eye level with the young boy. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

She looks down at the small stuffed animal in his hand and then back up at him. “I like your puppy.”

His response catches her a little off guard as his tiny arms wrap around her neck in a tight hug and the words that leave his lips turn her into a big pile of goo. “Thank you for protecting us.”

“Oh, you’re very welcome.”

“Is this where we get in line for the hugs?”

Her eyes go wide at the all too familiar voice. The the voice that up until now has been thousands of miles away from her. Pulling back from the little boy, she quickly spins around, jumping up and throwing her arms around his neck for the death gripping hug. 

The blonde smiles as his arms find their way around her waist, picking her up in excitement. To say he missed her would be an understatement. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi.” She pulls back a bit, her lips immediately finding his. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you more.” He goes to move the hair out of her face but catches himself when the plaster on his hand touches her.

Her brow furrows as he sits her down, now noticing the obstruction on his left arm. “What happened?”

“Oh, I was fighting some Transformers, you know the usual.”

She smiles shaking her head before bringing her lips to his once more. God she missed his sense of humor. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

She pulls back from their embrace, grabbing her bag and saying a quick goodbye to the little boy before they start heading towards the exit. As they make their way through the terminal, the SEAL wraps her arms around her husband’s uninjured one, hugging it to her body. “So what really happened there?”

“I was playing soccer with some local kids. Kens, we gotta go to Egypt one day. I mean it’s hot as hell but so beautiful.”

“I like that idea. Maybe for our honeymoon that we’ll get to go on one day?” Her mind drifts to a small quaint resort, and her shirtless husband feeding her grapes as they relax beach side in Attaka.“Speaking of monumental moments, do you realize what today is?”

As they step out into ground transportation area, he finds a lone pillar and leans up against it, pulling her body into his. “Of course I do, Nutty Fudge Day!”

Tilting her head back, her mismatched orbs meet his as she bites her lip, trying to keep the smile from spreading to her face. “I’ll show you Nutty Fudge Day.”

“Baby, not in front of the children.” His eyes go wide as they dart over to the two little kids watching them a few feet away.

This time she can’t stop the laughter from leaving her lips before placing a kiss to his once again.

He deepens the kiss, wishing so much that they were already in their hotel room. The sound of little giggling voices forces him to pull back, shaking his head, the photojournalist takes in his wife’s beautiful features. All the things they had plan to go out to do while they’re in the Big Apple are sounding more and more like a drag when he could very well have her all to himself in their luxurious hotel suite. The look in her eyes tell him she may be thinking the same thing, but he tiptoes around the subject just in case. “So, what do you want to do today?”

“I may have a surprise for you.” And oh, does she have a surprise for him.

••••

Present

She takes another bite when her eyes suddenly go wide at the sudden burst of warmth that fills the cooling water around her. The moan that escapes deep from within her throat can’t be helped as a new feeling shoots through her body. 

“Woah, maybe I should just hop in there with you.” He smiles thinking that the noise was caused by her treat.

“How do you feel about delivering babies?”

“I’ve never done one myself but-“ His eyes quickly find the panic shining in her eyes, making his entire being freeze. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Um, my water may have just broke.”

••••

May 12th, 2009

Humming with excitement, he walks into their hotel room, bucket in hand. “Baby, I got the ice, now I’m ready to rock your-“ He stops in his tracks at the sight before him.

“Hi.” She smiles, her mismatched orbs darken with desire as she looks him up and down seductively, biting her bottom lip.

“H-hiii.” He gulps, his cerulean blues roam her body, every bare inch glowing in the soft light coming from the lamp in the corner. Then his eyes reach the lace…the oh so delicate cornflower blue lace that barely covers her beautiful breast and delectable pussy. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?”

“No, just waiting to wake up.”

“What?”

“I’m still in the hot Egyptian desert and just hallucinating. Yep, any moment now and that lamp over there is gonna turn into a camel.”

A grin spreads to her lips as she gets up from her strategic positioning and walks on her knees to the end of the bed. She reaches for his hand and pulls him towards her. Placing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, his eyes darken as her fingers work their way down to the hem of his pants and slip into his boxers. Her delicate fingers wrap around his already hardened cock, earning a moan of pleasure, one she hasn’t heard in too long. “You’re very much awake, baby.” 

“Thank god.” His lips find hers in a desperate kiss as she pulls him towards her and onto the bed.

A little while later as they both lay sated and out of breath, his head pillowed on her chest as her fingers work their way hrough his golden locks.“Why do you have so many knots in your hair?”

“Well, I’m a little disabled at the moment,” He lifts his casted hand and arm in the air for emphasis, “so I can’t really run my fingers through my hair in the shower like I usually do.”

“Ya, know…” Her fingers find his scalp and dig in a little, earning a moan of pleasure from him.

“Oh, god, that feels amazing.”

“I have two free hands and there’s an empty tub just a few feet away that can massage other things.”

His lips find her breast as his fingers delicately walk down her abdomen to find her already sopping wet pussy.“Well, it just so happens that I have a free mouth that can also massage things.”

••••

Present

She lets out one last groan as the little girl is fully free. Her tiny cries filling the air as Marty quickly cuts the umbilical cord before wrapping her in a towel and handing her over to his wife. 

“You did it, baby.” He comes up beside her, his arm going around her shoulders as he pulls her into him. Yeah, moving to the bed was a good idea. Placing a kiss to the top of her head, he smiles as he gets a glimpse of his two girls…his whole world right in his arms. “I love you so much.”

She tilts her head back, eyes locking with his as he places a kiss to her lips. “I love you.” 

The tears that begin to form in her eyes, he can feel pooling in his own. “No, no, don’t cry. Cuz if you cry then I’m gonna cry.”

“She’s just so beautiful.”

“Exactly like her mama.”

“You think so? I thought she looked like you.”

“Well, I guess that’s good considering we’re her parents.” His lip curls into a smile.

Shaking her head, she gives him another kiss before her head finds his shoulder once again. “Touché.”

#Densi #Kensi Blye #Marty Deeks #Kensi x Deeks #Kensi Deeks #NCIS: LA #War Zone #AU #Densi Fanfic

[rinharu-purple]

About S2 PV CH 10-13

Yes, it is a belated post, since the chapters are out. But you still might enjoy reading this 😄😄

Starting with Kiro/Helios with a mullet (I can’t believe that he’s wearing a mullet).

He is in a seemingly abandoned venue with a fading microphone. Maybe he is imagining himself on the stage again? Someone has also pointed out that he might be deaf, because of the hear aid, but the singers always wear one on stage, so I don’t think that’s the case.

And then we switch to the embodiment of awesomeness goes by the name Gavin in a rooftop bar, chilling with a bottle of Tiger beer. Greeting MC with a “I am not here for you”, which is ironic, because in the previous PV 6-9 he said the exact opposite:

The way I see it, Gavin is giving us the good old push and pull treatment. Thanks babe :/

---

Victor is probably overseas (San Francisco maybe, it looks like the Golden Gate bridge in the background) and is buying a New CLA? (the letters on the background). But its a Maybach you’re leaning on Vic (and nobody buys them with the Mercedes star anymore btw, its too old school, but because it's a Maybach I'll let it slide unnecessary info)

His smile while texting with MC is very cute (probably his inside voice his calling her dummy but as long as it cant be heard from the outside we’re cool).

And the way the picture suits to the melody in those 4 single piano notes is really nice.

Lucien is back to his assassin mode, stealing stuff and going behind people’s backs, playing all sides against each other, scheming and such. Same old same old. Gotta admit though, that I like him like this the most. especially when he gets caught by the MC and keeps his composure like “Haven’t you heard? I am the lizard king in this no horse town” Smooth.

Nothing on Shaw. Sorry.

Joker is finally getting a sprite and is out there to get our LIs. Gathering proof on them etc. Let’s see where it goes.

Enter the angst:

Victor warns MC about pretending not to know him. Probably because he is already aware of the facht, that they are being watched, so he might be trying to conceal his relationship to MC, but I have no idea, how he is planning to do that, when they are both working for the BS.

But more importantly. Victor, a beige suit, with a black/brown shirt and a blue tie?!! You are an extremely rich guy, don’t you think that you should have the fashion sense which goes with it? Just because it looks good on Gavin doesn’t mean, it would look good on you too. Try something like this maybe?

While I am busy criticizing Victor’s Printemps ‘21 prét á porter look, this scene pops up out of nowhere accompanied by the melody going all crescendo, hitting me HARD:

I don’t even know where to start in this 4,5 seconds of heartbreak. Bullet points help:

- Symbolism is very strong with this scene. MC is shown falling into an inferno-like abyss with all red-fiery colors. And Gavin is responsible for it. 

- Gavin is wearing his trench coat from S1 CH1, reminiscence to the start of the story. Also the red ribbon part of MC’s pullover might have been put there to symbolize the red string of fate. Having read @cheri-translate s translation on Gavin’s R&S earlier today about their inevitable attraction, it  doesn’t feel like a far fetched speculation. Their souls are bound together and yet their hands are pulled apart in a way. We are so used to seeing Gavin and MC hand in hand or embracing, this feels like being hit by a truck. It also gives me some break-up vibes. Specifically because MC is reaching out for his hand but Gavin doesn’t move an inch.

- I need to say this though, his body and his face tell us two different stories. His body is stiff and doesn’t move, but look at his face:

Two things that stand out is 1) Ohmaygadheissohandsomeitmustbeillegal just kidding, not Gavin-stan gotta Gavin-stan swh 1) He is slightly biting his lip (the down curve on the edge of his mouth), so he is restraining himself from holding her (though I am almost certain that he would still subtly soften her fall with his evol). And 2) His eyes are filled with mixed emotions and his brows are furrowed very very little. He is showing only micro mimics so I am guessing that he is also trying to hide his relationship to MC, much like Victor.

Helios cutting MCs hair makes me only think about the Halloween 2020 event. No other comment on this. Again, PG is giving us some good throwbacks.

And the final blow with Lucien. The way its shown and the filter thats put on the scene hints towards a dream sequence. I don’t think it happens in the real world. Because for Lucien to lose the only source of color in his life is probably his worst fear. So having such a nightmare will probably lead to him distancing himself from MC even more.

OR, MC is going S1 CH11 all over again but this time around with Lucien. OR OR S2 CH 10-13 is S1 11-14 all over again, thus history repeats itself. Victor and MCs’ scene reminds me of this:

Helios threatening MC is much like MC finding out about Ares and as Areas threatens her not to be caught by him again.

MC falls again, but this time Gavin doesn’t catch her mid air.

Pretty sure its such my mind going to odd places, but the parallels are there, right? RIGHT? 

Anyways this post didn’t come out as I desired it to be, probably because I took my sweet time contemplating it and the new chapter are out, so many of you must already know where I am wrong lol.

But above all CH32 falls tomorrow!!!!The most anticipated moment is right around to corner guys and gals!!!! 

#mlqc #mlqc lucien #mlqc gavin #mlqc victor #mlqc kiro #mlqc shaw #mlqc ling xiao #mlqc zhou qiluo #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc bai qi #mlqc haku #mr. love queen's choice #pv 10-13 #PV 11-14 #mlqc second season

[oceansmelodysblog]

A Warm Breath from the Mountains

chapter 2

A Breath of the Wild fanfiction

Authors: @quepasta & @freshbreezesworld

-----

When I woke up the next morning, I found myself in one of the comfortable Rito beds in their inns. Zelda was sleeping peacefully beside me, her face turned towards me. There was something magical about seeing her in her warming nightclothes, sleeping beside me, surrounded by majestic mountains and a pleasant cold. I took advantage of the situation to watch her sleep undisturbed and gently stroked the strands of hair from her face. My arm felt numb under her head, but it was worth it to me to have her so close. Hopefully she would never know how I felt about her, because the closer we got, the more complicated it would get with her desire to rebuild Hyrule. It was getting to be time to wake Zelda up, so a prank came to mind.

Carefully, I pulled my arm away and sat up. I had to massage and shake my arm to get the blood flowing, but I didn't mind. As long as it didn't kill me, the sarcastic thought occurred to me.

I jumped out the window and landed noiselessly on the grassy ground that surrounded the guest cottage and grabbed a stalk, climbed back in over the same window and sat down cross-legged in front of Zelda's face. One last time I examined her contented sleeping face, which she always had when I slept next to her. Then I took the stalk and tickled her nose and ears. Hectically she tore her eyes open and patted her body and face with her hands in panic. I let out a laugh and almost toppled off the bed to see her like that. She noticed my reaction and stopped abruptly and just looked at me questioningly "Link, what have you done now!"

Again I snorted, this time it was her confused look. I tried to gasp for breath and at the same time explain to her what I had done, which proved to be a challenge for me. "Link!"

„Don’t worry Zelda! I only tried to wake you up. “

„apparently you did. Great job. And never do this again, whatever it was.“ Now she was annoyed and I nearly lost it again but I needed to focus.

„Anyways. Today starts your first lesson on how to cook. We have to gather some ingredients from the Hebra mountains, so let’s get started, because the day will pass before we even reached the stables.“

As I said that, I jumped from the bed and took off my night wear to change into my Rito armor. I was so used to be alone all the time that I forgot to warn Zelda. Of course she started to squeal. „Link! What is wrong with you, why don’t you warn me before taking off your clothes!“ I smirked at her to provoke her even more. „You can see more if you want!“ I said and received a smash of a pillow in to my face. „You’re ridiculous! “ she was about to burst out by clenching her fists but I reached over the bed to her and held her wrists tight. „Zelda I am just kidding, don’t be mad at me. You can change your clothes in peace, I will wait for you at the gate to the village. “

As I walked away from the inn, on the way to the gate, many Rito villagers greeted me heartily. It seems they weren’t mad at me anymore, I guess Saki did tell them, I was a complete fool, to ease their minds. But then I bumped into the the Rito warriors and even they greeted me and apologized for their behavior. I will have to ask Saki about this later.

I talked to the guard about the surroundings and if he saw dangerous threats around this area and he said besides the already existing monsters in the mountains, the area around the stable and the village was safe for travels. When I thanked him for his advice I turned back to the stairs and my eyes caught a goddess standing in front of the goddess‘ statue. She wore a full white coloured Rito snow quill armour and looked astounding.

She had her long hair braided to a ponytail and her face was framed in gold through two thick strands of her hair. My heart fluttered at her forest green eyes shimmering like the surface of water in the incoming sunlight. Her shy smile adorned her pretty face, which was framed by strands of her golden hair.

Slowly I realized I was staring at her for too long and as a result she blushed. “Do you like my new outfit that much?” she asked curiously.

Slowly and elegantly, she stepped down the stairs while I couldn’t get out of my staring even when she stood right in front of me.

“Zelda... You... You look like a goddess.” I said without thinking twice. As I realized what I said, my eyes widened and became nervous. ‘How did I let this happen?’

“I-“ I was about to start to say, but Zelda interrupted me before I could finish the sentence.

“Link, please don’t be sorry. I appreciate your compliment… and I wish you would say what you think more often.” Zelda folded her hands in front of her chest and looked directly into my eyes. She had an intense glimpse sparkling in her mirrors of her soul while she smiled at me in a way that I couldn’t lay my eyes off. It gave me an intriguing feeling.

"Everything my princess desires," I finally replied.

Even though I had only addressed her by her title, it slowly dawned on me how ambiguous it sounded, and I couldn't help but smile. Zelda giggled adorable in response. I scratched the back of my head, which I always did when I messed up things.

 "Let's get to the stables before it gets dark. We will need our horses in the deep snow to move faster. After that, we'll let them rest near our campfire so they won't freeze." I finally said leading her the way.

Zelda nodded in agreement and broke away from me. We then walked across the bridges in comfortable silence, admiring the majestic view, until we arrived at the stables.

"Link, why did you name your horse Altay? I've never heard that name before," Zelda asked as I picked up our horses.

I had captured and tamed a direct descendant of her favourite horse, before the battle against Ganon, and held the white proud mare by her reins so that Zelda could pet and caress her in peace.

My mount, however, compared to hers, was like the night itself. My stallion had black fur and a black mane that was cropped into a mohawk. His forehead had a white mark that ran to his mouth. His fetlocks were covered with longer fur - an indication that he could cope with any weather. Basically, my horse was the perfect mount for me; fearless, strong and not afraid of any obstacle.

"An old man I once met on my journey told me about a warlike people who were unbeatable on their horses. They called themselves the Altay Warriors, after a mountain of their ancestors and deities. I don't know what happened to these warriors, but I still found the story impressive. When I found my buddy, here beside me," I lovingly stroked my horse's mouth as I continued, "I knew he was just as tough as those warriors and gave him that name. He loves it when I call him by his name." I smiled and helped Zelda onto her horse, grabbing her hip and hoisting her onto the saddle with ease. I loved those tiny touches and the way she smiled happily as I did so.

"Thank you Link, a gentleman as always." She said and gave me the intriguing look again.

I winked at her and turned to my horse and mounted the saddle. We had both opted for the 'Travelling Saddle' as it offered more storage space.

“So, Link will you tell me now, where we’re heading? You didn’t tell me more than that we would camp in the Hebra mountains.” She asked as we rode our horses in a slow walk.

“You will see, when we’re there, Princess.”

“Link that’s not fair, I want you to tell me where we will go. I want to be prepared.”

“Prepared for what? You won’t need to do anything but study the flora around us.” I said as I spurred my horse on.

At a trot we rode past the felled trees as the cool wind blew through the long stalks of grass.

“Because I want to learn new things and be useful, after you injured your shoulder, you must have realised too that you can’t be always there for me. Let me at least learn how to hunt with a bow. And no – the bow of light is something else.”

The group of trees in front of us was often filled with Oktoroks, so I kept my eyes open, but we had been spared this time. I breathed a sigh of relief when we reached the huge rock face to our left.

“I will think about it, princess,” I said and immediately saw a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. She turned her head away and sighed frustrated.

‘As if I could ever refuse her wishes.’

We had barely reached the sand-coloured rock cliff when the illuminating blue light of a shrine in the near distance caught my eye and pointed in the direction. Zelda looked out for the point in the distance that I was pointing at and drew in her breath sharply. I looked to her and watched as her eyes began to sparkle like opal.

"Link, there's another shrine! And it's glowing blue too! Link!  Link! Let's explore the shrine!"

"That's the Bareeda Naag shrine I entered a while ago. That's probably why it glows blue instead of orange, since I completed the trial inside."

Eyes dilated like those of an eagle, stared at me in shock.

As we trotted on, I kept an eye on the surrounding area, knowing that a camp of monsters was hiding behind the rock face.

"The shrines you wanted to explore 100 years ago turned out to be trials for the hero with the mastersword. They served to restore my original strength and endurance. Ancient, mummified monks waited for me in these shrines and gave me different tests. Which amazes me though, because these shrines were created 10 thousand years ago, with the sole purpose of helping me. How could the ancient Sheikah have known this? But if they knew about our miserable fate, why didn't they take action against it? So many questions ran through my mind as I travelled through Hyrule with no memory."

I stared at the pommel of his saddle as I moved my hip to the rhythm of Altay. Absentmindedly, I stroked through the spiky Mohawk mane.

I only realised I was lost in thought when Zelda placed a hand on my shoulder, snapping me out of my hazy memories of the devastation.

"Link, why don't you tell me what you saw in the shrine? What was that trial you had to pass?"

Grateful for the distraction, I gave her a smile.

"Activating the shrine first was a challenge in itself," we rode past the ruins that surrounded the shrine as I continued, "Laissa, the wife of Kass the poet, sang me an ancient Rito song that contained the solution to the challenge. I quickly found out that through the heart-shaped hole in the steep rock in Rito village, the sun had to shine on an illuminating pedestal and had to be shot with a fire arrow. Shortly thereafter, a shrine rose up from between those ruins and cleared the way for me to take the next test. In the shrine, with the help of my bomb module, I catapulted a huge stone ball at a huge target that was blocked by crumbling stones and floating pedestals that moved back and forth to make my job more difficult. I only had to shoot twice, once to pulverise the stones and a second time to fire at the target at the right moment. It was admittedly one of the easier tests I had to complete." As I told her more and more, her eyes lit up with fascination, but then I remembered that I hadn't even introduced her to Kass, let alone Teba, the Rito's bravest warrior. The thought of Kass led me to remember the final verses of his teacher’s completed ballad.

"Link are you all right? You looked very nervous and troubled for a moment."

"I'm fine. I just remembered one of the freaky trials."

I decided to withhold Kass' ballad from her for the time being, as I wasn't sure if it was true. I just couldn't imagine Zelda seeing me as more than her best friend.  

"Do you want to tell me about it? You went through so much before you came to rescue me, and yet I can only begin to comprehend what you've been through."

A spark of admiration flitted across her face, but just as I was about to begin to tell, I harkened and halted abruptly.

Puzzled, Zelda stared at me, but before she could ride past me, I grabbed the reins of Himawari, Zelda's mare, and slowed her down. She neighed loudly in fright, but I managed to shush her with my "Ho! Ho. Hoa!" to calm her down.

Altay sensed danger nearby and flared his nostrils. Nervously, he shook his head and exhaled loudly.  He was ready to face the danger.

I heard only the deafening snore of a Hinox, but I knew that if Altay reacted in such a way, there were Yiga nearby who could appear out of nowhere.

I could not hesitate for long, made up my mind quickly.

With my right arm I grabbed Zelda by her waist and dragged her from the saddle onto my lap, slapping Himawari on the back and we galloped as fast as Altay could.

Zelda cried out, constricted in my bent-over stance to brave the wind. I could hear a diabolic laugher, far behind us. I pushed Altay to run faster and quicker.

"Hold on tight!", I yelled against the wind.

Himawari galloped ahead of us, but Altay quickly caught up with her and sprinted past. We had to get away quickly, far away from any lurking danger.

"HYAH!", I yelled and spurred Altay and Himawari on.

The icy headwind whipped my face and froze my ears and nose. I hugged Zelda tighter to me with one arm to protect her from the weather while she wrapped her arms around my neck and buried her face against my shoulder.

I could hear Altay's powerful lungs quivering with joy. I heard every breath as his hooves pawed into the ground. I felt every muscle he moved.

My lungs burned with icy cold, but I gritted my teeth until we reached the crossroads to the Hebra Mountains. Once there, we stopped abruptly and Altay reared back, whinnying. I tightened my legs so as not to fall off the horse and pressed Zelda against me while pulling the reins tight with one hand.

Zelda clung tighter to me as she let out a suppressed squeal.

"Ho! Ho!", I shouted to calm Altay down.

When Himawari reached us, I released my reins, stretched out my arm and grabbed Himawari's reins as she charged towards us. I concentrated, tensing my leg muscles to sit firmly in the saddle, and pulled my arm towards me with all my might to intercept Himawari's momentum. I pulled hard on her reins, keeping Altay under control, and pushed Zelda onto my lap until Himawari came skidding to a halt.

I exhaled with relief and let go of the mare's reins. I relaxed my grip around Zelda's waist so that she could relax. Her legs hung off the side of my lap and her hip was pressed painfully tight against the pommel of my saddle.

"Forgive me Princess, I had to get us away from there as quickly as possible as I sensed through Altay that this place held some danger. I hope I didn't hurt you."

I slid further back in the saddle to move her a little away from the pommel, but I bumped into the pack on my horse's back.

Zelda let go of my neck and looked up at me.

"I could have ridden after you on Himawari, couldn't I?"

"No. I can protect you better if you're right there with me. The Yiga have the art of appearing out of nowhere and attacking you with sword and bow. They could have separated us by waking the sleeping Hynox and kidnapping you quite easily."

Her beautiful face was millimetres from mine, I couldn't help but gaze into her deep green eyes. Her pupils dilated, her lips opened a crack and honey sweet breath, clouded my mind. Feeling her chest rise and fall steadily, I realised my hand was still at her waist and she was sitting on my lap.

I tried to calm my racing pulse and deep breaths so as not to take any more space from her by my strong rise and fall of my broad chest.

Silently, we sat there staring into each other's eyes. Even though I was a disciplined knight, I was only a man. My gaze fell on her slightly parted lips. Magnetically attracted by her breath, my mouth approached hers.

But suddenly a thought flashed through my mind and made me jerk backwards. I was still her knight, protector and closest confidant. I had no right to kiss her.

"Sorry princess. That wasn't planned" I cleared my throat and tried to gather my thoughts. But then I noticed Zelda's sad face.

"Princess? Why are you so sad?"

Zelda furrowed her brows and averted her face. However, it felt like I had put a rift between us.

"It's nothing. We should keep moving or we'll never get to the snow mountains." She signalled me to lower her down. Carefully I hoisted her onto Himawari's saddle and we rode along the mountain pass, following the path.  A herd of wild horses crossed our path and galloped ahead of us, across all directions. At the end of the trail was a hut with a campfire and we decided to let the horses rest at this spot.

"What is this place?" Zelda asked.

"Hebra Trailhead Lodge. See that wooden ladder? If we climb that, we'll get to Rosporo Pass. From there we get to the Hebra south summit. The pass to the right of the mountain takes us past Corvash Peak Mountain to Hebra Plunge and Hebra Falls. But the way is a long one on both paths, I suggest making a campfire close to this hut, but stay at the pass.”

 --------------

I set my foot down lightly in the snow, huffing as the snow crackled underneath my boot. I had been walking around for at least 10 minutes while trying to keep my steps silent. How did Link always walk so quietly? He could run across a field and not make a sound. How many times had I seen him scramble up the side of a building, sneaking around the townspeople while goofing off.

Link had told me to find hot peppers and wild berries, and I had found neither so far. Somehow I convinced him to let me wander off by myself, though I figured he was staying close in case I needed him.

The quiet landscape around me had been cast in a yellow glow as the sun started sinking behind the mountains. The light hit the snow that clung to the tree branches and the snow sparkled in return. The reflected light from the snow danced on the fresh snow on the ground. I breathed in the cold air while I trekked on, smiling as I took in the beauty of it all. I couldn’t imagine ever getting used to the beauty of the Hebra region.

Soon I found a group of wild berry bushes and began plucking the berries into my pack. I wasn’t sure what Link was planning to teach me to cook tonight, but I was excited that it included fruit. The peppers had thrown me off, but they would be useful in the cold region we were in. Even if we didn’t use them for dinner, it was a good idea to keep them on hand.

After collecting all the berries I could find, I continued on. I knew that peppers grew better in more open areas and that there were cliffsides near the area I was in, Hopefully there were some peppers there. I forced myself to walk faster, I was losing daylight and I was supposed to meet Link back at the campsite by nightfall.

Shaking my head, I tried to get Link out of my head. He was only going to be a distraction. Plus, I was upset with him. Well, maybe frustrated was a better word. Frustrated actually explained a lot of how I was feeling lately.

I hadn’t let Link know, but after our almost run in with the Yiga earlier today, my sense of helplessness had only grown. He could sense the smallest sign of danger and had once again had to escort me to safety. Meanwhile I had been oblivious to it until I heard the faint laugh of the Yiga member. Even then, the only instinct I had was to hide my face in Link’s shoulder while my fear frightened me in place. Truthfully I was thankful Link was there and had the skills to detect such danger.

However, it had since dawned on me that my education as the royal daughter had done little to prepare me to live in the world that existed now. Of course, no one could have predicted what would happen. But out here in the wild, there was no use for arithmetic, or table manners, or citing the favourite literature among the nobility. Life here was driven by work done with labour and skilled hands. The civilians that still lived across Hyrule all knew how to collect and make the supplies they needed.

But I knew nothing. I didn’t know how to find more substantial resources, create shelter, make my own clothes, or defend myself. This is what I had been trying to tell Link for a few days now. But each time I brought it up, he brushed it off. Saying that he knew all of those skills and therefore I didn’t need to. Which is why I was frustrated with him.

But he had already promised to teach me how to forage for food and cook. That was a start, at least. And while Link was healing well from his fall, he still wasn’t well enough to do all the work by himself. Though if someone asked him if he was, he would say yes with an annoying amount of confidence.

I set another foot down, attempting to be lighter. I held my breath as my boot sunk in the snow, waiting for the sound of the crunch. But this time my footstep was silent. A small victory, but I let myself have it.

Shifting my foot to take another step, I brought my hand to grab the bow slung around my chest. I smiled as I remembered how excited I was to wear it like Link did. It was an extra great eagle bow that Link had in his pack. He had made a joke that it was weak enough that if I accidentally shot him, it wouldn’t hurt that badly. Rolling my eyes and threatening to take him up on that offer, I had taken the bow gratefully. It had also been another tiny win in my favor. Maybe my frustrations were unwarranted.

My face grew red as I also remembered that Link had offered to show me how to use it. For some reason I accepted his offer, even though I had been taught archery before the calamity. Archery was one of the few useful skills I had been instructed in growing up, although back then I didn’t care for it much. Also, I was a terrible shot.

I felt my hands shake as I remembered using another bow. The bow of light. The sacred bow of light had been given to me by the Goddess before I went to fight Ganon. The bow had somehow felt familiar as I gripped it for the first time. I had not had time to practice using it and I didn’t need to. I had used it countless times before, in other life times. Heading to the castle, I was armed only with the bow and my sealing power to face my enemy alone.

I shuddered at the memory and I gripped the great eagle bow tighter. There were no sacred ties or unfair duties with this bow. I could use this one and just be another girl hunting. The quiver Link had given me only had a few arrows in it, but I could target practice if I wanted to. Weighing the idea in my mind, I turned my head toward the horizon. I sighed as I realized the sun was starting to sink, which meant that I needed to hurry. There would not be enough time to practice and collect what I needed to.

Luckily the cliffs weren’t too far away, but the sun had beat me. It was now dark, the stars and moon finally showing themselves. I used the light of the moon to scan the cleared area by the cliffs, my eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dark. I finally found a few peppers growing at the far end of the area and began pulling them off their vines. I smiled and felt my mood lighten a bit, proud of myself for finding them. Even if I was late to the task. Just as soon as I was done, I heard footsteps coming from around the corner.

I turned in alarm, but relaxed as I saw Link come into view. Puffs of hot air followed him as he slowed his run to a walk.

“Zelda! There you are.” He smiled, and continued to walk over to me. His face was changing from a frown to relief, as if he had been worried about me. I felt anger prickle at my hands, why couldn’t I have made it back in time instead of causing Link to worry? There went my better mood.

“Do you not trust me? I am fine. I was about to head back to the stable.” I said, letting my annoyance show. A look of confusion spread over Link’s face, his mouth tried to form words in response.

“No! I mean yes I trust you I just-” He started. But his initial response of “no” set me off.

“You must really think I’m that helpless. Maybe you’re right. You gave me an easy task and I couldn’t even complete it before nightfall.” I said, walking back towards Link. I felt my voice start to get louder, frustration taking over. “And I couldn’t even be a few minutes late without you having to run around to find me. Maybe this is hopeless and I should just-”

“Zelda!” Link cut me off. “Zelda, hold on. None of that is true.” He said, his brows furrowing in concern.

“Well then why did you come running all the way over here? Like I am just some child you lost sight of.” I huffed. Why was I getting so mad at him? It was misdirected anger, I was more upset with myself for losing track of time today. I was about to continue when Link grabbed my wrists, bringing me closer to him and closing the rest of the distance between us.

He rolled his eyes at me, but rubbed his thumbs once over the top of my hands. Warmth flowed through them instantly, and my heart pounded. “I came over here to show you something. And I was running because I didn’t want you to miss it. Now stop being so stubborn and look up.” He said, sliding one arm around my waist when I tried to pull away before he finished his sentence. But then I stopped and followed his instructions.

A gasp escaped my mouth as I glanced up. The sky was lit up in streams of green and bright pink light. The light snaked across the sky, playfully shifting down toward the ground almost as if it were teasing the tops of the mountains. Aurora borealis, I thought. One of my tutors had told me about the lights in the sky, but I never had been able to see them for myself. They weren’t viewable from the castle. I must have been so caught up in my search that I didn’t notice the show the night sky was putting on.

I felt my arms relax and I let my hand fall to land on the top of Link’s arm which was still around my waist, but Link held my other hand in place to lay flat on his chest. I thanked Hylia for the cold air, giving an excuse for the redness creeping across my face. I gave his arm a soft squeeze, letting him know I saw what he wanted me to look at. But I kept my gaze on the lights. They were beautiful, like dancers waltzing across the night sky. Sometimes the green and pink hues shifted to purple or blue, but they were breathtaking regardless of what color they chose to be.

I finally forced my gaze away from them, back to Link. He had been watching them too, but looked back down at me when he saw my head shift. For a second I just let myself stare back into his eyes, and he searched my face as always. What was he searching for this time? Did he only see his sovereign and friend starting back at him, or did he see something more? At night, did he dream of my eyes too?

I suddenly became all too aware of how close we were. Link’s arms around me, my hands on top of his. Our bodies more or less pressed against each other. Of course he had held me like this because I was trying to push away from him and I would have missed the lights if he hadn’t. But he was lingering, he technically didn’t have to have his arms around me anymore. I technically didn’t have to have my arms touching him. We technically didn’t have to be staring silently at each other for this long, but we were.

I could have died right there and been content. But I didn’t dare let myself to think that this moment meant more. But perhaps it did. I remembered the moment the day before, when we had been escaping the Yiga. Had he been trying to kiss me or did I imagine that?

“I was being stubborn again, wasn’t I?” I finally breathed, forcing my eyes to look somewhere else.

“You were. But you always are.” He laughed. I could feel the vibrations of his laugh from how close we were. I still wasn’t over his laugh. A thing that only the Link from this time did.

“Well you were right, as you always are. That was quite beautiful. I have always wanted to see the lights and I never thought I would. Thank you.” I replied, giving him a smile in return.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as his smile grew wider. He let go of his hold on me, taking a step back. My hands fell back to my side and I felt the loss of warmth immediately. But he still stared back at me, his blue eyes almost glowing in the moonlight.

“Er, do you want to practice with the bow before we head back?” Link asked. His cheeks were red, probably from the cold. But a little part of me thought maybe he was blushing.

I nodded and turned to follow him.

As we walked to find a good area to practice, I replayed the past fews days back in my head. Starting from when Link woke me up with his prank, the compliment he gave me on the stairs back in Rito Village, then when evaded danger before I even knew anything was wrong. The redness on my face deepened when I remembered being pulled into his lap as we outran the Yiga on horseback. His instincts and strength were impressive, to say the least.

And just now, standing under the lights while being more or less in his arms.

All of these were innocent moments, really. But I knew I would replay them in my head for a long time. The image of his blue eyes staring back into mine would surely keep me up tonight.

And it was then an odd thought occurred to me. Blue was my favorite color.

“Is here okay?” Link spoke up, bringing me back from my thoughts. He was giving me a smug look, and only then did I realize he had led us to the flight range.

I was surprised to see the range after so long, but pleased to see that it hadn’t changed much in over a century. I sighed woefully as I remembered the countless times Revali showed off his skills here. Taking off on an upwind with his wings spread wide and shooting all the targets in a blink of an eye. Taking a deep breath, I hoped I would make him proud with the amateur archery skills I possessed.

“Yes. I believe this will work.” I answered, pulling the bow over my head and reaching for an arrow. I looked over at Link and he stepped back with a nod, giving me space to practice.

Suddenly I felt very nervous to practice in front of Link, and I now regretted not taking the time to shoot a couple of arrows earlier when I was alone. I fumbled with the arrow. The bow of light had been so easy to use. Almost like the bow had done the work for me, or maybe the adrenaline I had back then had made it easier to use.

Link stood back and motioned for me to continue. With the arrow finally nocked, I raised the bow with my arms shaking. I had seen Link jump in the air and shoot an arrow in one swift motion, with little effort. He must have been humored by my struggle, I couldn’t bear to look to see if he was. Pulling my right arm back, I aimed for the closest target in front of me. I could tell before I released it the arrow that it would miss, my shaky arms making it a clumsy shot.

The arrow in fact missed the target, whizzing past it to land in the snow. Still, I was encouraged by the speed of the arrow. I just needed to get better at my aim.

“That was good.” Link said, suddenly appearing next to me. “Here, nock another bow. If you straighten your arms more you’ll make your mark.”

He stood behind me as I pulled another bow out of the quiver and nocked it. He reached up and put his right arm on my right elbow, raising it so my arm was perfectly horizontal. His left arm lightly touched my waist, straightening my posture.

“When you draw the bow back, one finger should be above the arrow with two fingers supporting it from underneath. And you want your right hand to be right next to your mouth. Go ahead and try.” He whispered by my ear, and he stood back.

I drew the bow back, making sure my hand was even with my mouth and arms were level. I released the arrow, sighing as the arrow missed the target again. But it was closer, barely missing.

I continued practicing, with Link stepping in to give pointers. Every once in a while nudging my waist or correcting my arm form with a light touch. Everytime, my breath caught in my throat when I felt his hands on me. In truth, he was distracting me more than he was helping me.

But I didn’t stop him from doing it, even though I felt a little guilty not telling him that I had been educated in archery. But between me being out of practice and Link making me nervous, I was fumbling like a true inexperienced archer.

Finally, I shot three arrows into the target. While they were nowhere close to the bullseye I was still ecstatic with my progress. I felt myself smile wide after each one and with Link would give me a thumbs up in approval. His face beaming at me after I made the third one, I raised my arms in the air in a cheer. Link walked over pulling me into a big hug and swung me around in a circle. I laughed as he spun me, throwing my head back and feeling the wind whip my hair around.

I stumbled as he sat me back down, feeling joy fill my heart and spread through my limbs.

“I have a confession.” I said, laughing still. Link looked at me, his eyebrows raised with a smile still on his face. “Well I, uh, was taught archery back then. Obviously I’m rusty and I appreciated the pointers. But just thought I should tell you.” I looked down at my shoes, slightly embarrassed about my confession.

“So you just let me teach you something you already knew, like a moron?” Link asked, his voice playful. When I looked up at him I could tell he had tried to look angry, but he was awful at hiding the smile he wore.

I nodded and shrugged, glad he wasn’t actually upset.

“Shame on you, Princess. Shame on you.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“I apologize! And your tips were still quite useful, thank you. They will certainly help me in my practice.” I slung the bow back over my head.

“Good. I guess that makes me feel better.” He stated, shifting his feet a little in the snow. “I’m not really ready to go back yet. Do you want to go find somewhere to sit? We can watch the lights some more.”

I stared at him, gasping in disbelief. “I never thought I would see the day that you would push off dinner. I thought you would be starving by now.”

He put a hand to his stomach and laughed. “Oh, I am. But it’s such a beautiful night, we might as well enjoy it. Unless you are ready for dinner?” He asked.

It was late already, it had been a few hours since the sun had set. But I wasn’t really hungry yet. “No, I can wait. Let’s go.” I answered, motioning for him to lead.

But Link took me by surprise, by tucking his arm in mine and giving me a smile before leading us away from the range. My skin tingled where he made contact, and I silently sighed in my mind.

I wished I had the courage to ask him about his feelings. Did he do everything for me out of duty? Out of friendship? Out of something more? These thoughts had kept me up at night recently. I often came to the conclusion that I was okay with the way things were. Having Link around and allowing our friendship to continue to grow was enough.

Honestly, most days it was enough. But moments like this, when he would do something out of his usual behavior that I felt the need to know what was actually going through his mind. Our conversation this morning only caused me to wonder more.

 However, Link’s memory was still fragile. I wanted to give him space and time to heal. Putting strain on our friendship, the one thing that was a constant for him, would certainly not be the best thing for him.

Link led us back to the clearing on the cliff. He let go of my arm to clear snow off of two rocks that were at the edge of the clearing, then motioned for me to sit next to him.

“Thank you.’ I said, sitting down. I left a small space between us on the rock. Looking up at the sky, I could still see the lights. They were fainter now, but they still danced across the sky.

“How is your shoulder doing?” I asked him. It had been a few days since his fall, and while he certainly was healing faster than a normal Hylian, I was worried he was hiding his pain.

“Oh, it’s a little sore and stiff. I should probably be stretching it more than I am. But it is feeling a lot better.” He replied while shifting his shoulder a few times for emphasis.

“I’m glad to hear it. You really had me worried there. And your head? How does it feel?” I picked at a loose thread on my pants while I waited for his answer.

“Good as well. It hasn’t really hurt since the first day I woke up. A little tender if I touch it I suppose. My ribs are still sore, if that is your next question.” He said, nudging my shoulder with his.

I nudged him back. “Yes it was. Well, like I said. I am glad you are getting better. A shame that you are such a clumsy hero though.” I teased.

His head turned to look at me, rolling his eyes again. “Hmm. I don’t think you want to talk to me about being clumsy.” He chuckled, his shoulders shaking as he did so. But then he got a serious look on his face. “I am sorry about that though, Zelda. I really am. I honestly should have been more careful. Never would I have ever wanted to cause you such distress.”

I looked back up at him and I could see the sincerity in his eyes. “I know. There is no need to apologize though.” I answered, feeling my brows scrunch on my face.

Link leaned down a bit closer. “Well, there is. And I also need to say thank you. For what you did, even if I was mad about it. You saved me, Zelda.”

Oh he was close, way too close to my face. I wanted to lean in closer, it would have been so easy to close the distance between us. And he was looking at me again like he did yesterday.

But there were things we needed to talk about. And I suddenly felt a little brave, I decided it was time to ask him a few of the questions that had been haunting me for weeks now.

“It’s what we do for each other.” I said, looking away. “Speaking of that. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but there have been a few things I have wanted to ask you for awhile now.”

Link tilted his head, waiting for me to continue.

“What do…” I stopped. I wasn’t sure where to begin. “Do you remember the first time we traveled to Rito Village together? Before the Calamity?” I asked. I decided to start small and ask him about a few specific memories.

He sighed, though I wasn’t sure if it was out of surprise or frustration. “Can you tell me a little more about it?” He asked.

“Oh yes, of course.” I said, pausing to think about which details of the trip to describe. “Well, we had traveled from the castle to Rito Village to get an update from Revali on how he was managing to pilot Vah Medoh. Along the way, we ran into some ice lizalfos on the way, but you took care of them. Later, we had dinner with Kaneli, Revali, and some others. Nothing important happened on the excursion, I just chose a random moment to ask you about.” I answered, fiddling with the loose thread again.

Link’s face scrunched up in thought, his eyes moving back and forth as he combed through his memories. Then his face fell and he hung his head. “No, I’m sorry I don’t think I do.”

“It’s okay, Link. Like I said, it’s not an important memory. May I ask another question though?” I shot a side glance at him and saw him nod.

“Do you remember obtaining the Master Sword the first time?”

“No.” He answered quickly. “I have tried to remember that. But I haven’t been able to.” He said, his voice quiet.

I sighed apologetically. “Oh. I’m sorry for bringing it up, Link. I won’t ask about it anymore.” I was worried I had pushed him too far before he was ready.

“No, it’s fine. Maybe asking questions will help remind me of something.” He said, lifting his head to look at me.

I thought about something else to ask him, and there were so many things I could have. But I decided to go a different route. “Yesterday you said you wandered Hyrule with no memory. Is that true? Do you remember anything about your life before becoming a knight?”

This caused Link to lean forward into his hands, sighing into his palms. He stayed like that for a minute, not moving. Then he pushed his hair out of his face and sat up. He glanced over at me and cleared his throat. “I don’t remember my life before being assigned your knight. Honestly, I don’t remember much, at all. Most of my memories are tied to the pictures in the slate.” He finally answered.

I closed my eyes, I had figured as much. But it was still devastating for him to admit it. I wrung my hands together, attempting to come up with something appropriate to say. But what do you say to something like that?

“So everything you did after you woke up, training to defeat Ganon, freeing the Divine Beasts, saving me.... You did all of that without remembering who you were?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yours was the first voice I heard and you helped me when I didn’t even know my name. I was told by everyone else what my destiny was and what to do. That was enough until I started to reclaim some of my memory. Then bit by bit, I started to remember you and the champions. I didn’t remember everything, and I still don’t, but I knew I missed you and the others. I knew I wanted to save you and see you again.”

He paused, and turned his face toward the sky. I didn’t think he was going to speak again, but he did.

“Seeing you safe, healthy, and smiling. That’s been enough for me. More than enough. Even if I don’t remember, I know I did the right thing.” A small smile found itself on his face as he looked back at me.

I smiled back, feeling my heart pound in my chest as I met his blue eyes again. What he said made some of his behavior make more sense. He was still the old Link in the way that he was always striving to do good and how devoted he was to his duty. But he had also changed, he was taller, goofier, and talked more. The weight he felt of being the one who wielded the sword that sealed the darkness now gone as our destiny was  behind us.

“Is that what you wanted to tell me earlier?” I asked him.

“Oh that? No. I’m still not ready for that.” He said, his eyes leaving mine for the ground.

“That’s okay. I can respect that.”

We sat in silence for a while as the weight of our conversation set in. I was happy we had made some progress, he hadn’t allowed me to talk about his memory before. But we were the only people who knew what the other person had gone through and it was time we began to heal. Together.

“I’m kind of hungry now, should we head back to the campsite?” I asked, standing up and offering my hand out toward him. He looked at my hand for a second before smiling and taking it.

And while I thought he would let it go after a moment, he didn’t. So, we walked hand in hand back to the campsite, with my hungry knight leading the way.

 ------------------

 I was already awake before the first morning rays of sunshine, as the issues of last night did not allow me to rest in my sleep. I lay on my back in my sleeping bag and put my hands under my head. I looked up at the clear starry sky, which slowly gave way to the light of the sun.

"Zelda." I whispered.

No reply. Just a soft breathing.

"Zelda." I repeated, a little louder this time.

"Mmhm...?" she murmured sleepily.

"Wake up please, I have something to tell you that you should know."

I felt Zelda slowly wake up beside me, but I couldn't look her in the face. Even though I loved watching her sleep and wake up, my heart was too heavy.

"I'm awake now, what's the matter Link?"

"Remember Kass the poet? He was the Sheikah Court Poet's student."

Beside me, I heard Zelda draw in a sharp breath. In my mind's eye, I knew her big green eyes were wide and her mouth was half open. Still, I was unable to look at her.

She waited patiently for me to continue speaking.

"On my journey I met Kass very often, he sang me ballads of ancient times and helped me with the song lyrics to solve problems in the respective region. But his main task was to complete his master's song. It was a tragic ballad about both of us, but it was mainly about you, to help me recover my memory. Eventually, I managed to help Kass collect ancient songs all over Hyrule, so he managed to complete the ballad."

I exhaled heavily as thoughts about the verses kept circling in my head without finding an answer.  

"Link, you seem so tense... Is there something wrong with the ballad of Sakasai?"

an old, long-forgotten memory suddenly burst into my mind. A memory of Zelda and Sakasai standing close together, whispering and laughing, while Zelda had not even glanced at me. I was Zelda's appointed knight and yet she didn't want me around and always rejected me.

I swallowed hard.

"Kass told me that his master often told him how beautiful you had been - and still are. Kass said he would like to compose a song to match your beauty and wished to meet you one day."

When Zelda still didn't say anything after a while, I finally turned my head towards her. My gaze met her brimming eyes, waiting for the truth.

"Link, that can't be all that's bothering you - please tell me. What is it that you can't tell me?"

"I... I... just can't tell you it, Zelda. Please accept it. For now."

Zelda frowned but nodded silently.

“About that song Kass wanted to write about me, I hope he is somewhere nearby! I am eager to hear, what he would sing about me, and how his music would sound. Please Link, please let me meet him!”

I looked at the beautiful face next to me, stared at her, without saying a word. I brushed a golden stray of her hair behind her ear and smiled.

“Of course, I will do that, why wouldn’t I want to let my princess become a song sung for future generations?”

She giggled and cuddled onto my arm, falling in a light sleep again, while I watched over her, as I did back then, now, and forever.

Zelda and Link watching the Aurora Borealis - commissioned from @/rutisfree on twitter for our romantic scene ♥️

#A warm breath from the mountains #zelink #fanfic #botw zelink #zelink fanfic #zelink fic #zelink au #aoc zelink #post botw #loz botw #botw link #legend of zelda #fanfiction author #legend of zelda botw #Legend of Zelda #botw2 #link #hyrule warriors #writing #a zelda blog #adventure #romance #love #zelda x link #link x zelda #linktober #action #drama

[wisdomrays]

QUESTIONS & ANSWERS: What Happens to People Born and Living in Non-Islamic Countries?: Part 2

Today, Muslims cannot provide security even in a small area for just their own community. Given this, the achievements of early Muslim administrations can be seen in their true light and greatness. In return for their security, reliability, wisdom, subtlety of mind and piety, the doors of many castles and cities were opened to them-not as honorary title-holders or visitors, but as governors and rulers.

When the Muslims took over Syria and Palestine, the commanders asked for the keys to Masjid al-Aqsa. The Patriarch told them that he would give them only to the person described in their holy books, for only that man was worthy to receive them. While they were disputing, Caliph 'Umar and one of his servants set out from Madina. No one knew how he would travel. But the Patriarch and priests knew how the rightful holder of keys would come.

'Umar borrowed a camel from the state treasury, and he and his servant took turns riding it. When the Muslim commanders heard of this, they prayed that 'Umar would be riding when they had to cross the Jordan river. They thought that, as the Byzantines were used to pomp and magnificence in their rulers, 'Umar might shame himself if he were leading the camel upon which his servant was riding, and crossing the river with rolled-up trousers.

In fact, most political pomp is injustice and inequity, and 'Umar was trying to avoid it. What his commanders feared came to pass. 'Umar's garment, worn and battered by the journey, also had many patches on it. When the Patriarch saw 'Umar, he cried out: "This is the man whose description we have in our books! Now, I shall give him the key." Because of the special knowledge obtained from their books, the priests knew how 'Umar would look and how he would cross the river. Handing the key and Masjid al-Aqsa to the Muslims caused many people to embrace Islam.

With whole-hearted ardor, 'Uqba ibn Nafi' set forth to spread the word of Islam. The conquest of Africa fell to his lot. After successive victories, some people envied his fame and misinformed the Caliph about him. The Caliph was provoked, and 'Uqba was dismissed from his post, arrested, and kept from spreading Islam. Imprisoned for 5 years, his only sorrow and great longing were expressed thus: "I wish I could have spread Islam all over Africa. I was prevented from achieving this. That is the only thing I regret."

Freeing and then appointing 'Uqba governor of Africa, Yazid made it possible for him to relaunch the conquest of Africa and spread Islam. 'Uqba reached the Atlantic Ocean in a single campaign. He could not help riding his horse into the ocean and crying out: "O God! If this dark sea had not prevented me going further, I would carry Your Holy Name overseas!"

I relate these historical accounts to remind us of how Islam was represented in the past and how it is now. The early Muslims took present-day Azerbaijan, Iran, Iraq, North Africa, Bukhara, Tashkent, Samarkand-places that would produce Bukhari, Muslim, Tirmidhi, Ibn Sina, al-Farabi, Biruni-within 25 years. These early Muslims carried Islam to almost every part of the then-known world, and made the glorious flag of There is no god but God, Muhammad is His Messenger wave over many lands.

As for ourselves, we scarcely can speak the Truth to our neighbors, let alone go to foreign lands and tell the people there. Some of our neighbors may be willing to listen, but we cannot persuade even them. Our words come back to us cold, as if from walls of ice. They leave our mouths but do not penetrate the hearts and souls of people.

We point this out only to draw attention to immeasurable distance between ourselves and the Companions. They conveyed Islam to all peoples and lived only to do this. When they could not do so, they felt sorrow and pain for the lands and people unaware of the Truth. By contrast, we cannot represent Islam fully in our individual lives, and still less can we convey its message to people abroad. We have neither abandoned our personal needs and preoccupations, nor given the highest priority to working in the way of God. We remember the ways to our homes, our jobs, and our worldly lives only too well. Those of us who went to non-Muslim countries did so for economic reasons, not to take the name of God to those lands. That is why we are so unable to spread Islam among them.

If non-Muslims are now lost in deviation, corruption, and unbelief due to our own ignorance, laziness, and incompetence, we shall be called to account for it. Giving lectures and organizing seminars and panels can be considered moving toward being on the way of God, not true service to Islam. If true service to Islam is likened to a great palace, we are still wandering around the first entrance. Because we have not yet entered upon the task, many people are going astray. Sometimes we speak to them of Islam, but we have not saved ourselves from futile internal disputes and conflicts.

We are nowhere near representing Islam at the level of 'Umar, 'Uqba ibn Nafi', and others of that caliber. Who knows how their opponents were struck with fear at seeing their determined courage, their indomitable devotion to God; or struck with wonder by their reliability, generosity, justice, and humanity, all of which moved them to wonder about and then embrace Islam. The fact that many of the countries in which Muslims now live were conquered by these early Muslims shows what absolute sincerity in the way of God can achieve.

Considered from this angle, the question of non-Muslims, especially those living in non-Islamic countries, takes on a different aspect. We need to see them with a greater tolerance, and say: 'Shame on us! We have not been able to convey Islam to them so that they can leave the darkness in which they live." It will help to narrate here the true story of a German family.

A Turkish worker lived with a German family. He paid great attention to his religious duties, and performed them sensitively. Except for working hours, whenever he was with the German family he told them about Islam. After a while, the father became Muslim. His wife said to him, as did the wife of 'Amir ibn Tufail: "We have always been together so far. Let's be together in the future, too, together on the Sirat Bridge and also in Paradise. If Islam really makes one reach heavenly realms, as you said, why should I stay back from such a blessing while you enjoy it?" So she embraced Islam. The children followed her, and the family group of Islam was completed and the home became an outpost of Paradise.

Several days later, the husband came and said these startling words to the Turkish worker: "I could not express my love and gratitude to you, because you have been an honored guest to us. However, sometimes I get very angry and wish to beat you up. You came and the Qur'an, the Prophet, and God followed you. My home became a heavenly abode. But I had a father. He was a very straight, good man. He passed away a few days before you came. Why couldn't you have come a bit earlier and told him of Islam as well?"

These words indeed represent the voice, the complaint, the rebuke of the whole non-Muslim world. We have failed to take Islam to them. Even in our own countries we have been unable to exert enough effort or support the cause of Islam to make our own people know it properly.

Another aspect of the question is this: Those who took us away from Islam always promised a Western standard of life. But 150 years later we are still beggars at the doors of the West. Little has changed, and we cannot say that we have progressed in any important sense. The West continues to treat us as servants who leave their countries in return for poor wages. Even if we presented its people with the golden principles of Islam, the message that will open the gates of Paradise for them, they will reject both Islam and us. In part, this is because we are despised laborers at their disposal. As usual, the rich have difficulty imagining that they need anything from the beggars at their doors.

Muslims have been defeated in so many fields many times over, and remain dependent on the West. Why should the West listen to us? Only if we can live and represent Islam thoroughly, go to the non-Muslims with a commanding confidence in our own honor, dignity, and greatness and only for the sake of God, can we hope that they will listen to us and accept Islam. We cannot continue to accept our negative image in their eyes, but how can we change this unless we regain and reassert our former identity?

In the Hereafter they will be asked why they did not embrace Islam, and we will be asked why we did not convey it to them. So, the responsibilities of both Muslims and non-Muslims should be considered equal. Any judgments about non-Muslims should be made justly and uprightly. We cannot condemn non-Muslims to Hell simply for being non-Muslims, nor can we dream that people will embrace Islam just because we ask them to do so.

We believe that the global balance will change in the near future. Especially in Turkey, Central Asia, Egypt, Pakistan, and some other places, Muslims will regain their consciousness and raise up strong individuals who will resemble the early Muslims in their desire to establish Islam and its high values in other lands. Only through sustained and sincere effort will Islam once again become a major and respected factor in the world, and will the voices of its followers be heard. This is not impossible. Those who will realize it will be Muslims of good character whose souls have bonded with Islam, not those inconsistent and inadequate Muslims who follow their bodily needs and desires and only concern themselves with Islam once in a while.

#allah #god #prophet #Muhammad #quran #ayah #sunnah #hadith #islam #muslim #muslimah #hijab #help #revert #convert #dua #salah #pray #prayer #reminder #religion #welcome to islam #how to convert to islam #new convert #new revert #new muslim #revert help #convert help #islam help #muslim help

[cicada-bones]

The Warrior and the Embers

Chapter 33: Aftermath

Im sorry this one took me so long! Schoolwork and the election really wiped me out! But I hope you enjoy and as always - let me know what you think!

(also this moodboard will hopefully make sense a lil ways through this one - was super fun to make so I hope you like it)

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

With each step down the stone staircase, a slight clicking sounded from Rowan’s hip, the four stone collars jostling against each other as he walked. With each step he took away from Aelin, he felt something in his chest twisting. Something bright, and strong, and full of fire. Something new.

The carranam bond.

Rowan had never heard one described before, and he was taken aback by the strength of it, the potency. It was like a…tether. That connected him to her. An artifact of Aelin’s scent, like a key, buried in his chest.

It was strange, to be given another magical connection after so many centuries. He was used to the feel of the blood oath on his soul, the way it writhed in his veins. An acidic, curling smoke. The strength of it. The inevitability of it. Maeve always made sure that their oaths to her were born of pure submission.

That bond smothered his will, and dulled his senses. That bond had put him to sleep for two hundred years.

This bond was a jolt of electricity. An awakening.

The stone corridors were quiet all around him, but not with death. With healing. Rowan could sense the presences of his…cadre, as Aelin liked to call them, deeper in the fortress. Small flickers of darkness at the edges of his senses.

And with each of his steps closer to them, Rowan couldn’t help but think that this new bond was almost like how he had felt with Lyria. Couldn’t help but draw comparisons, and similarities.

Before her death, and the mating bond became an aching chasm in his chest, it had been a soft, warm presence just over his heart. A place where he could feel his mate close. Where he could sense her.

Rowan always felt when she was in pain, when she was in danger. And it gave him the vaguest sense of her location, almost like a scent trail.

This new bond, his carranam bond with Aelin, was strikingly like that. Unnervingly so.

Aelin hadn’t replaced Lyria. She hadn’t filled the hole the mating bond had left within him. But with this carranam bond…Rowan found that it was harder and harder to feel that hollow ache. To feel the place where his body remembered her loss.

And Rowan wasn’t exactly sure whether he was glad of it.

Rowan was hovering just before the entrance to the corridor where he had spent most of that morning – shoulder to shoulder with the demi-Fae, sweat dripping down his limbs, the air drenched in copper. Now, it was empty of all but the dead. The stones were slick with blood, the walls spattered with gore. Rowan could hardly walk without stepping on hands and toes and torsos, cold and hard and bulky in death.

But Rowan did so anyways – making his way through the pit of bodies to check for a smothered breath or faint heartbeat – any hint of life. He found none. Someone had clearly already gone through and collected the injured, then probably moved them to the dining hall, or the inner courtyard, to be attended to. Where the survivors had gone, Rowan did not yet know.

He stood and sighed, making to leave the corridor.

There was much to be done. The bodies would have to be burned. The gate to the tunnel was mangled, it would have to be reinforced – and soon, in case of a second attack. There were the injured to heal, and prisoners to organize.

And Rowan was utterly uninterested in all of it. All he wanted was to go back; to follow that tether to its source. To curl up beside Aelin and sleep for a century or more.

His feet were slow as they mounted the stairs, making for the sentry station where he knew he would be able to find Malakai. But before he made it very far, a familiar, bronze-skinned shape nearly barreled into him.

“Hey – oh, it’s you.” Fenrys, now in human form, stepped to the side and out of the way of Rowan’s path. Though he had fought as his wolf, the younger male was drenched in half-dried blood, his skin mottled with newly forming bruises. It didn’t matter that it was a different form – it was still you.

Rowan’s greeting was guarded. “Fenrys.”

“Rowan. Where’d you get off to? You missed almost all the fun!” Even with his hair matted together with someone else’s blood, the boy was practically chipper.

Rowan frowned, raising his eyebrows. Fun?

Fenrys waved his hands derisively. “You know what I mean. Did you leave to go help the princess? Is she alright?”

Though he was only asking from general curiosity, there was an anxiety in his tone that unsettled Rowan. He didn’t know what they wanted with Aelin, didn’t know if Maeve had sent them, couldn’t be sure of anything. Though he had fought with them for years almost beyond count, he didn’t trust them as far as he could throw them.

Rowan followed Fenrys’ question with one of his own. “What happened after I left? Where were the survivors taken?”

“Lorcan’s in charge. Last I saw, he was up on the battlements with an older demi-Fae who seemed to be a leader. There were forty or so soldiers who were still standing when their commanders fell, and they surrendered fairly painlessly. Lorcan had them taken to the dungeons to await questioning, but none of them seem particularly talkative.”

So Lorcan had taken charge. Something inside Rowan unfurled, a hidden tension flowing from his limbs. “How many dead?”

“Most survived. Seems that Adarlan was seeking to capture, not kill. I think last count was twelve, though that might increase before night falls.”

“Wounded?”

“Our side? Most. I think Gavriel is attending to them in the mess hall. There are a few dozen Adarlanian soldiers too – but I think they’re being kept separately.”

Rowan just nodded, satisfied. But before he could turn to depart, Fenrys’ hand shot out, stopping him.

“Wait – you never answered my question. Is the princess alright? We…we passed her on our way in and she…she didn’t look very good.”

Fenrys’ eyes were surprisingly earnest. But instead of compassion, Rowan felt a chill pass through him. Fenrys had seen Aelin. They all had, on their way into Mistward. For some reason, Rowan had never thought that through before – that in order to reach the fortress, his cadre must have passed by Aelin. And left her there.

“You saw her?”

Fenrys seemed to hesitate at the coldness in Rowan’s tone. “…Yes. She let us through that strange black smoke. It was phenomenal actually – she made this…this bridge. Of golden light. A tunnel, that gave us a way through. Otherwise we never would have been able to make it.”

There was awe on the young male’s face, wonder in his voice. But Rowan did not hear it. “You saw her, and you just left her there?”

Fenrys started, his brow furrowing. “Yes. What else could we have done?”

Rowan was fuming. You could have stayed. You could have helped. He wanted to rage at the male, to shout himself hoarse. But he kept himself in check.

“She will be fine in a few days.” And Rowan turned and left without another word.

He didn’t really expect Fenrys to understand. But Lorcan should have. And Gavriel definitely should have. Had they all just sailed past her?

Gavriel knew exactly what it was like when the people you were responsible for died under your command. Hadn’t Rowan tattooed enough names into the male’s skin by now? It was almost as though they died by your very hand. As if they died because of you. Because you didn’t think hard enough, or plan well enough.

They died because you weren’t good enough to save them.  

Gavriel knew that. And he had nearly let Aelin die for them anyways. To die for him.

Rowan strode out through the gates and onto the yellowed grass, damp with rain. The ward stones towered before him, dark and silent and aged. Even with the death of the creatures, the magic that had fueled them was gone – utterly emptied.

Most likely, they would never spark again.

The loss of their magic, their majesty, weighed on Rowan just as those twelve deaths did. Deaths that he was responsible for. Somewhere, the logical part of his mind told him that there was nothing more he could have done, nothing more he could have sacrificed. But it was a very small part.

Rowan took another step forwards, to rest a hand on the black monoliths. Seeking to confirm with his hands what his eyes and ears were already telling him. But as he moved, the stone collars jostled once again, like a chorus of dull wind chimes.

Rowan lifted one off of his sword belt, examining it closely for the first time. They were perfectly round and utterly black – so dark that it was hard to see the flaws on the matte surface.

Even with the demons dead and gone, the fragments of stone held whispers of darkness about them. And it was more than just a memory of power, more than just a trace. It was almost as if those bodies had been little more than vehicles for the darkness, and it was the collars that held the real power.

Rowan placed the circle of stone carefully back on his belt, then shifted and flew out into the morning light, headed deep into the mountains.

He didn’t have time to make it all the way to the sea, not with Aelin sleeping in their rooms, unprotected, while Maeve’s warriors strode through Mistward. Not when Rowan couldn’t be sure of their motives, or their obligations.

Instead, he headed for the deepest, wildest place he could find with his winds and his hawk’s eyes.

Half an hour passed, and eventually he chanced upon a patch of evergreens hidden in the shadows between two massive peaks. Though it was approaching summer, snow still shone at their tops, the steadily rising sun marking the mountains a blinding white.

Rowan dove through the chill, passing between shelves of rock and soaring through narrow crevasses until the light dimmed, and became scarce, and mid-morning turned to dusky twilight.

The evergreens were undaunted however, monarchs rising up against the faces of stone to tower over the southern hills that lay below. Rowan flew to the base of a particularly gigantic pine, where he shifted in mid-air and landed on a platform of gnarled roots and discarded rusty pine needles.

Rowan breathed deep, then called his power up from within, pulling the last dregs of ice from the well in his chest. The magic came unwillingly, though with it he cast a blade of pure ice. Which he used to dig into the earth, tunneling deep into the nest of roots below.

Once the hole was at least eight feet deep, Rowan let the blade melt and fade into the dry earth. He carefully lifted each collar off his swordbelt and threw them into the deep, then filled the pit back up with hard-packed earth, replacing the bed of pine needles over the surface.

Rowan stood carefully, realizing for the first time that he had let his concentration slip. That he’d perhaps been too focused on the task before him, and not paid enough attention to his surroundings.

For as he turned to leave the hollow, a strange presence flitted at the edges of his senses.

Immediately, Rowan strengthened his shields and cast out his winds, seeking answers. The air did not give them to him. Not really.

The presence felt…different. Unexpected. But surprisingly, not unfamiliar.

It felt wild.

Then it clicked into place. The Little Folk.

Rowan took a hesitant step forwards, just as a pair of eyes peeked over a fallen log, then quickly fell from view. Rowan took another step. And another.

He wanted to speak, to say something. To tell them that the demon creatures were dead, that the wild reaches were safe once more. To tell them who had killed them. But for some reason, Rowan felt that they somehow already knew.

Rowan reached the log, expecting to find it empty. So he was unsurprised to find that the faeries were gone, their presence fading from the hollow. But he was startled by the fact that the log was not completely bare.

Atop the mossy surface rested two circles – crowns, Rowan realized – of red and white.

They were undeniably beautiful. Exquisitely crafted wreaths of the warmest flame and the coldest frost. Rowan’s hand stretched towards the red one first, recognizing spiky red maple leaves and orange petals from marigold flowers. There were strips of yellow from the brightest buttercups, and yet more colors from plants Rowan could not name. All collected and pieced together into this fiery masterpiece that barely resembled the plants they had once been.

Rowan was struck with the memory of the crown Aelin had once made for him, the crown of pure flames. This wreath was the perfect image of her magic.  

He felt his eyes shift, searching out the other wreath. It was quieter, more understated, and yet still indisputably majestic. It was made of leaves of pure frost, wormwood and silver sage and needles of blue pine. And the spitting image of the circlet he had crafted for Aelin.

Rowan felt his brow furrowing, his gaze searching through the close-set tree boughs for any hint of movement, any indication that they were still there. Still watching.

For they had been. The Little Folk had been watching them for weeks.

And while Rowan was discomforted by this discovery, he felt no fear, no antagonism. These were gifts, not threats. A silent thanks.  

And as Rowan held that crown of fire between his hands, it finally sank in. The demons were dead. They had won. Aelin had lived.

Tears formed at the corners of his eyes as he raised his head to face the darkness of the forest beyond. “Thank you,” Rowan said. “Thank you.”

···

The harsh stone of Mistward’s walls appeared through the thinning mist as Rowan dove towards the fortress. Now that the barrier-stones were forever silenced, he no longer had to pass through the front gate, and so could glide over the battlement wall and land directly on the stones of the interior courtyard.

With the knowledge that Lorcan had taken charge alongside Malakai, and that they had suffered minimal losses with the enemy forces already contained and subdued, Rowan had lost all interest in participating in the recovery and repairs. All he wanted was to go up to their rooms, bar the door, and drift off into the deepest sleep he had risked in weeks.

But the interior courtyard was far from the empty, silent place it usually was.

A temporary hospital had been set up under swathes of white canvas, where men were lying on cots and sitting on mats, blood pooling beneath bandages while hollowed eyes stared into air filled with the sounds of the dying.

Mistward hadn’t been hit hard, but Adarlan had been. And the wounded waiting to be helped numbered in the dozens.

Fenrys had told Rowan that the hospital had been set up in the dining hall. Otherwise, Rowan would have flown directly to his rooms, instead of risking passing by where he knew Gavriel would be waiting for him.

The male in question looked up just as Rowan entered. There was no avoiding him, no matter how much Rowan might wish to.

Gavriel was standing at the bedside of a young soldier in Adarlan’s colors, though they were hard to see through the pools of blood encrusting the fabric. But as Gavirel wasn’t holding bandage or needle and thread, Rowan assumed that the blood was not the soldier’s.

Gavriel’s brow furrowed as his eyes met Rowan’s, concern and – was that fear? – passing through his scent. But as usual, the male swiftly reigned in his emotions once more.

“Are you alright?”

The question felt loaded, though Rowan wasn’t sure if that was Gavriel’s intention. It didn’t really matter. Rowan didn’t have an answer to give him. So instead of speaking, Rowan just grunted, then moved to stand at the soldier’s other side. Silently offering his assistance.

Together, they reset the soldier’s broken leg, then used their combined magics to bind the fragments of bone and knit the skin and muscle back together. Despite everything, the two of them immediately fell back into a rhythm, into that shared dance of movement and magic and thought.

Soon, the man was whole once again. Gavriel took a wet cloth from the man’s bedside and used it to wipe his hands and face, then handed it over to Rowan, a silent thanks in his eyes. Rowan took it.

“Is Aelin going to be alright?”

A pause. “She’s resting.”

“She has grown these past weeks. Improved.”

Another grunt.

“Do you think it is enough?”

For the first time, Rowan looked directly into Gavriel’s eyes. Something passed between them. “I cannot keep her here forever.”

“No, you cannot.”

There almost seemed to be actual remorse in the male’s voice. Rowan wasn’t sure if he would be able to keep his irritation in check for much longer. “Is that why then?”

“Why what?”

“Why you just left her there? Why you held me down when I tried to help her?”

Gavriel looked taken aback. “You think that I wanted the girl to die?”

“Give me an alternative.”

“She begged us to leave – to save you. I could not deny her her last wish.”

“Even when you knew that would not be what I wanted?” Rowan was very nearly shouting now. “Even after all these years of tattooing the names of the Fae you’ve lost on your own skin? You still don’t understand?”

“If you had seen her face, you would not have denied her either.” The quiet resolve on Gavriel’s face was enough to momentarily disarm Rowan. He changed tack. “What were those stone rings you carried before? I didn’t get a good look – “

“Does Maeve know that you’re here?” Rowan interrupted before the male could finish his question.

Gavriel hesitated, his eyes darkening. But not with anger, with…shame. “No. She did not know when we left. Though she must surely know by now.”

A small measure of sympathy washed through Rowan, working to melt the ice somewhat. Gavriel was loyal through and through. This betrayal had cut him.

“What happened? When – when you got my letters?”

Another pause. “I was alone. Fenrys and Connall were also in the capital, but I didn’t meet up with them until after. I don’t know how Lorcan and Vaughn decided, but they were still in the south – we met up with them near the southern mountain pass.” Gavriel’s eyes were almost boring into Rowan’s by this point, pinning him in place. “I did not say anything to anyone. I just left. But that doesn’t mean that you have nothing to worry about.”

The accusation in his tone was a painful reminder of what Rowan had been suppressing all morning. A reminder of what was waiting for them back in Doranelle. Who was waiting for all of them.

And whatever happened, it would be Rowans fault. Their pain, their punishment. Aelin’s pain – it all would be his fault. But he saw no other way.

Rowan took a slow step back, nodding at Gavriel. All of his anger towards the male had temporarily evaporated. “Thank – thank you.” He choked out. “For coming. For saving her.” Then he turned and left the courtyard, heading up the stairs to finally join Aelin in their bed.

···

Lorcan was nearly at his wits end.

He’d missed most of the actual fighting, instead babysitting Rowan to make sure that the bastard didn’t run off to his own death. So by the time he reached the tunnel where it appeared most of the battle had taken place, the twins had already taken care of almost everything. And now he was stuck organizing the repairs and recovery of this insignificant backwater fortress.

Bodies had to be collected and burned, sentries needed to be sent out to confirm that there were no other forces lying in wait for a second attack, workers needed to be organized to clear away the rubble and gore. He needed to ensure that the prisoners from Adarlan were well locked up, and had to arrange for them to be interrogated.

But all the while, as the morning passed into mid-day, Lorcan couldn’t get that image out of his head. The picture of his second, of Whitethorn for gods’ sake, screaming bloody murder as that princess fell into darkness. The look on his face when he wrenched himself free of their grip and ran to her. The image of them in each other’s arms, while the world burned to ash at her hand.

When they arrived, Lorcan had left her for dead. He’d dismissed her – just like that. The darkness surrounding those creatures was unlike anything he had ever felt before. The feel of it on his skin…Lorcan shivered. His powers did nothing against it.

Only fire could destroy them, and the princess had burned out. Or so he’d thought.

He’d tried to convince Whitethorn that the girl was dead, that there was nothing to be done. But the male refused to listen. And then, when she rose through the darkness – it was almost as though she brought the dawn with her.

That power…it was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Apart from his queen, nothing could match the girl. Nothing and no one. Not even him.

He almost didn’t even blame Whitethorn for going after her.

But only a very small part.

Mostly, Lorcan felt…betrayed. There really was no other word for it. And betrayed for love, of all things.

Everything was about to change. Nothing would ever again be the same between them, or within his lieutenants. Never again would they rove through the countryside together, drinking and fighting and bedding women. Never again would Rowan be able to look at the horizon without some measure of longing in his eyes.

Rowan Whitethorn had fallen in love. After all these centuries, and with that foreign bitch of all people. Whether the bastard knew it or not, he had fallen in love once more. And it would probably break him all over again.

Lorcan cursed violently, and a sentry in the corner of the room jumped in fright.

He didn’t know where Rowan was at the moment, and frankly, he didn’t much care. Lorcan wasn’t sure he wanted to see him. Didn’t know what the hell they would say to each other.

Not that Rowan’s help wouldn’t be appreciated. The older demi-Fae male in charge of the fortress – Malakai, Lorcan thought his name was – wasn’t particularly helpful. Rowan was Lorcan’s second for good reason, and his other lieutenants were already occupied.

Fenrys and Connall were running forays into the perimeter, ensuring that there weren’t any more parties of soldiers lying in wait. Gavriel had been dispatched to help the small group of fighters who had skills in healing, and Vaughn was helping to repair the damage done to the escape tunnel. It had caved in in places, and the gates were badly damaged.

They were all here, doing their duty. Helping Rowan save all of these gods-damned ungrateful bastards. Risking their lives, and most definitely risking their liberty. All because of Rowan. And where was he? Absolutely nowhere to be found. Probably off with that fire-breathing bitch.

At some point, Connall returned with the information that there weren’t any soldiers within fifty miles of the fortress, and the caves that had served as their camp all these weeks were emptied.

Lorcan then sent the wolf to the healer’s compound to inform the head healer there that the threat had been dealt with, at which point the older demi-Fae commander spoke up and said that the healers had been moved into the mountains for safety, and Lorcan had to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from snarling at the male.

Then Connall was gone, Fenrys was arranging for the traps in the woods to be taken apart, and the elderly demi-Fae had left with some mumbled excuse about following along behind Connall to meet up with someone to tell them the news. And Lorcan was alone. Which he found was actually not that much better than having company.

What did Rowan think was going to happen?

Did he think that Maeve would let them be together? That there was some happy future in store for them?

The second that that little girl made it through Doranelle’s gates, she would likely be trapped there forever. Maeve would never let a power like that slip through her fingers – and with the way the girl looked at Rowan? The princess was doomed.

Maeve would force the girl to swear the blood oath, one way or the other. Then, once the girl was hers, Maeve would undoubtedly keep her and Rowan separated as much as physically possible.

Because they were carranam, and together…together their power was more than anything Lorcan had ever seen. Even Maeve –

No, his queen was the most powerful being in all of existence. But still, the two of them together could prove a threat. And Maeve would not stand for it. So they must be kept apart.

Lorcan’s teeth slammed together. Why had that jackass allowed this to happen?

His team of commanders had been near-perfect. They worked together almost seamlessly, each with their own specialties. There was order, and structure. Even Fenrys, who was a right pain in the ass most of the time, fit within their hierarchy well.

But now…now it would all fall apart. Rowan loved that girl, and everything was about to change. He would defend her above all others, would protect her in the face of any threats, would never put her in any danger – even if it proved necessary in order to meet their objective.

That bastard’s cock was going to fuck everything up. And Lorcan didn’t see any way to stop it.

Then Vaughn reappeared, with the news that he had just gone down to the dungeons to check on the prisoners, and found them all dead in their cells. Poison.

Lorcan muttered a violent curse, and stood.

···

Gavriel was exhausted to his very bones. Night had now fallen, and they had lost three more men over the course of the afternoon. Three men whose deaths he had not been able to prevent.

Many more Adarlanian soldiers had died, but Gavriel couldn’t bring himself to much care about them. Particularly after they started bringing out the cyanide. Lorcan had told him that they had lost all of the prisoners in the cells, and to try his best to save the few soldiers from Adarlan who were still in his care.

Gavriel told the male not to get his hopes up.

He had spent the entire day at work, stuck in some courtyard, surrounded by the moans and complaints of broken men. There were a few demi-Fae sentries who had some healing magic, but far too soon their powers were exhausted, and Gavriel had to send them off to rest.

He couldn’t completely heal all of them – it would have surpassed his strength. But he ensured that no one died that wasn’t already marked to enter Hellas’ realm. Obviously, the soldiers’ goal had been to overwhelm and capture, rather than kill. The fortress was very lucky to have escaped with so little death.

Still, what he wouldn’t have given to have Rowan’s help. Or Lorcan’s. Or anyone’s, really. But they were all busy. And Gavriel would have rathered face a dragon in single combat than to go up to Rowan’s rooms and ask him to come down and help. Especially after their discussion those hours earlier.

It had been so strange – the cold male had felt almost…vulnerable. In a way that Gavriel had never seen before. And the look on his face when the barrier fell, and the princess was consumed by darkness…Gavriel would be haunted by that look for as long as he lived.

Just as he had known the second he saw the princess’s pleading, desperate, dying face before the ward-stones, begging them to go save Rowan, that she had loved him, in that moment he had known the same for Rowan. The prince loved that woman. And now there was nothing that any of them could do about it.

All they would be able to do was wait, and watch, and discover how it would play out.

But there was something, something more. The two of them were closer, more comfortable with each other. And they were obviously sleeping in the same bed. But there was also this strange hint, a trace, of the girl’s scent on Rowan. Mixed in with his.

Perhaps it was just the settling of that new bond between them – the carranam bond. For some reason that didn’t quite sit right with Gavriel.

Though that was another image it didn’t seem likely he would ever be able to erase from his mind. The way they looked together, staring into each other’s eyes while the entire world burned to ashes around them. The way their power felt as it rushed over his skin, an avalanche, a tsunami. The explosion of a star on the surface on the earth.

The fact that they were carranam changed everything. Now, if Aelin joined their ranks, it seemed unlikely that Rowan and the princess would be allowed within fifty feet of each other. Maeve disliked a threat almost as much as she hated betrayal. Or disloyalty.

Gavriel’s stomach turned over. He knew far too well what they would be facing upon their return to Doranelle. He forced his mind away from the unpleasant memories. He had made his choice, and he would stick by it. He had known the consequences when he decided to come.

And he would not regret it. The girl and Rowan had both lived. Even the majority of the demi-Fae had survived.

Though he would regret leaving Aelin alone at those gates for as long as he lived. Rowan was right, he should have stayed. No matter how worried he had been for his friend, the princess had needed him. And he had almost let her die for them.

His daughter. The words were an uncomfortable weight. Full of doubt. At first he had desperately shied away from them, aching for them not to be true, for them to be anything but. Now, he was less sure.

The princess was growing into a powerful female, a leader and magic user worthy of renown. Wouldn’t it be understandable to want to belong to her, in some small way? To want to be hers?

Shame joined the guilt writhing in his gut. It was a betrayal to his queen to want to belong to another. For it wasn’t really as a father that he wanted to belong to the princess, it was as a soldier. A lieutenant.

Aelin’s power was a beacon, and just like Rowan obviously was, Gavriel felt himself being drawn to her.

So, as Gavriel moved between the dozens of patients sleeping before him, searching for bandages to change and fevers to lessen, his thoughts kept whirling back to that essential, all-consuming question. What would happen when Rowan brought the princess to Doranelle? And would Rowan be able to survive another loss of this magnitude?

The night slowly passed into day, and just before dawn began to peek her head over the mountains, Lorcan appeared.

He was obviously trying to sneak out before the fortress woke up, now that the majority of Mistward was once again up and running as normal. And though Gavriel doubted the male would ever admit it to himself, to leave without having to see Rowan. Without having to deal with whatever it was that was shifting like quicksand beneath their feet.

Gavriel stood and walked over to meet Lorcan, who was now standing over by the entry gates, buckling on his swordbelt.

They stood in silence for a moment, but then, “What do you think will happen when we return? What are you going to say to her?”

Lorcan’s eyes narrowed, knowing immediately what Gavriel was getting at. “I’m going to tell her the truth of what happened. What else.”

Gavriel’s brows furrowed. “You know as well as I –”

“That changes nothing.”

“It changes everything, and you know it.”  

“Just because Rowan went and fell for – ”

“He hasn’t been at peace for centuries, Lorcan. You would deny him that?”

“No. But there isn’t exactly anything that we can do to stop it. I would worry less about that selfish bastard, and more about your own skin, Gavriel. Rowan and that bitch are going to get what’s coming to them, and so are we.”

Gavriel only nodded. “I knew that when I decided to leave.”

Lorcan’s face darkened. “Tell Rowan I said goodbye. And that…that by the time he returns to Doranelle, I will have submitted my report. I can’t hide this from her – even if I wanted to.”

Gavriel nodded again, then clasped Lorcan’s arms in farewell. “I will meet you on the road, Commander.”

Lorcan’s gaze shifted slightly, an acknowledgement that he heard the silent words in Gavriel’s promise. I am coming too. I will not let you enter Doranelle alone.

But the male just jerked his head once, turned, and ran into the mist.

Dawn passed into morning, and Fenrys, Connall, and Vaughn all also departed, with similar words of farewell. But Gavriel lingered – wanting to see the girl one last time before he left, wanting to ask her the question that burned on his lips.

Before morning could give way to midday, an opportunity presented itself. Rowan and the princess were walking down through the fortress and the courtyard, heading out over the grounds. So Gavriel headed towards the back gate in order to intercept them.

Rowan was stony faced. Aelin was smiling.

I thought you’d be gone by now.” The accusation in Rowan’s icy voice was difficult to ignore.

“The twins and Vaughan left an hour ago, and Lorcan left at dawn. He said to tell you good-bye.”

Rowan only nodded absentmindedly, dismissing Lorcan’s message without much thought. “What do you want?”

Gavriel frowned, looking them both up and down. “Be careful when you face Maeve. We’ll have given our reports by then.”

Rowan didn’t react, though the princess started slightly. “Travel swiftly,” he said, an obvious dismissal, and continued walking past the gate and into the waiting mists. The princess, however, lingered.

Her eyes were cautious, and they studied him carefully. Then she said, softer than the mists brushing his cheeks, “Thank you.” Gavriel blinked, and he heard Rowan freeze suddenly at his back. “For the warning. And for hesitating that day.”

She extended a shaking hand towards him, wrapped in gauze and purple with bruises. Gavriel looked at it for a moment before shaking it gently in his own. Her warm golden eyes met his, and then all of sudden he was asking the question, the question on which his world now turned.

“…How old are you?”

“Nineteen,” she replied, casually as anything, and Gavriel was releasing a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. He didn’t know if it was from relief or sadness or surprise, though nevertheless, it was a release.

Aelin Galathynius was not, and could not ever be, his daughter. She was too young, by a number of years.

In order to fill the strange silence that had fallen, Gavriel made some comment about how that made her magic even more impressive. Aelin winked at him, then turned to follow Rowan into the trees.

Gavriel could feel the male’s confusion from a dozen feet away, but he didn’t much care. Rowan could be confused for a bit. He deserved as much for what he had put them all through, and what he was going to put them through, over these few weeks. And Gavriel was far too confused and conflicted himself to much care about the younger male’s feelings at the moment.

He was relieved at the news, but that worry was still there. He cared about the girl now, and that wasn’t something so easily undone. And it was not only because of his own burgeoning affection.

Gavriel couldn’t help but worry for the girl on Rowan’s behalf. Particularly because of the look Rowan was currently giving her – that flaming, all-consuming look. Like he was the moon, looking at his own personal sun. Knowing that soon, it would all come to an end.

So as the pair of them began to disappear into the trees, Gavriel murmured, “Good luck, Rowan.”

Then he shifted, and ran off to join his fellow warriors. To head for the capital, where Maeve was lying in wait.

To head for Doranelle.

…

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…

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[apharine]

Sightseeing

Chapter 2

Pairing:  Siane x Nanu

Fandom: Pokemon

Rating:  T

Read on AO3

Chapter 1

My writing commission info!

Summary:   Siane hadn't meant to wind up in Alola, under Nanu's care, while she recovered from a mysterious illness that left her prone to weakness and collapsing. But now that she's here and getting stronger, she wants to see more of Ula'ula than just the rainy skies and the Po Town wall by Nanu's police station. And who could be better suited to give her a tour than the Kahuna of the island himself?

Notes:  Siane is the wonderful HybridDragoness’ OC and she is amazing!  This fic is a commission for Hybrid and I’m honestly so honored to have been able to write for Siane and Nanu bc I love them so much!  Hybrid is a really talented artist and you can find her art of Siane here!  You can also find Hybrid on Twitter and AO3 under the same handle as on Tumblr!

                                        _____________________

“That was brilliant,” Siane declares, hopping off the Charizard’s saddle.  “Thank you so much!  You were amazing!  And the saddle really was helpful,” Siane adds, hopping around to give the Charizard a gentle pet on the snout.

“Here,” Nanu says, fishing some Poke Beans out of his pocket.  “You can give him a couple as thanks.  Not too many, though,” he adds, handing them over to Siane.  Truthfully, his heart had been hammering out of his chest the entire time Siane had been flying on Charizard’s back.  The fear that something might go wrong and she might lose her grip, or pass out and fall, had been forefront in his mind the entire time, and he’d urged Honchkrow to fly as close to Charizard as possible.  As if he could catch her if something went wrong, he thinks to himself, then pushes the morbid thought aside.  Siane’s okay, and that’s what matters.

“Thank you so much,” Siane says, holding her hand out flat with the Pokebeans on top of it.  The Charizard nibbles them up, then taps her with its nose affectionately.  “Have a good rest of your workday, okay?”

“Char,” the Ride Pager Pokemon agrees, then turns to take off to go to its next job.

“That was the first time I’ve flown in…I don’t know how long,” Siane says, turning around to grin at Nanu.  Her hair is a little wild from the wind and altitude, but she looks absolutely radiant.  If that’s how passionate one little flight could make her, Nanu thinks it’s no surprise that she decided to specialize in Flying type Pokemon.  “It felt amazing.”  Still smiling, Siane turns to take in the cityscape around her.  “So, this is Malie City, huh?”  She muses, drifting towards one of the great gates that mark the start of the main street.

“The one and only,” Nanu says, a little swell of pride bubbling up in his chest.

“The architecture is really cool here,” Siane agrees, touching the cool stone of the gate.

“Glad you think so, girl,” Nanu says, taking a couple steps closer to her.  Was it just his imagination, or had she been a little wobbly on that step just then?

“You said this city’s on the ocean?”  Siane prompts, a curious look on her face as she looks around.

“Yeah.  You’ll have to make it down the main street a ways,” Nanu says, eyeing her appraisingly.  The look flares something up in Siane, though, and she sucks in a deep breath, puffing her chest out a little.

“That’s not gonna be a problem,” she says confidently.  Nanu chuckles.

“Glad to hear it.  Let me give you the tour along the way, then.  There’s a lot to see in the city,” Nanu says, taking a tentative step down the road.  To his relief, Siane follows and lingers close to him as she walks.

Nanu points out some of the major shops and landmarks as the two of them walk by, including the glittering Malie Library and, in the distance, the Kantonian Gym.

“It’s lovely,” Siane breathes, taking in the structure.

“Hey, my favorite restaurant is actually coming up soon.  They specialize in really high-end sushi…that sound like the sort of thing you might like?”  Nanu asks, quirking one eyebrow in Siane’s direction.

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” Siane agrees.  “I can pay for my half.”

To her surprise, Nanu waves her off quickly.

“Don’t worry about that, Siane,” he grumbles.

“It’s really fine,” she insists.  Nanu frowns for a moment, then slows his pace until he’s paused in his tracks entirely.  Siane stops beside him; she thinks she’s doing a good job of concealing the confusion on her face, but Nanu can see through her facade easily.

“This place…isn’t cheap,” he says carefully.  “I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I wasn’t okay with paying your half.”

“What do you mean by not cheap?”  Siane asks pointedly.

“I mean…it’s probably the most expensive restaurant in the region.  They don’t usually do takeout, but Sensei knows me pretty well by now, so I figure they might make an exception for me,” Nanu says with a shrug, trying to play it cool.  It doesn’t work particularly well, though, and he watches as nearly every emotion in the book passes over Siane’s face.  The most expensive restaurant in the region…by the looks of some of these amazingly dazzling buildings, Siane figures that probably means that a single meal cost more than an entire year of groceries for herself typically would.

“I - I don’t usually…do expensive things.  It - things weren’t like that for me over in Aedis,” Siane finally says.  Nanu waits for her to elaborate, but when she doesn’t continue, he finally speaks up.

“Well - we don’t have to eat there, if it makes you uncomfortable,” he concedes.  “But if you did want to try something really nice for once…I’d be happy to treat you.”  Even he’s a little surprised by how much he allows his voice to soften as he says the words, and he watches Siane’s eyes widen a little - whether at his tone or the offer, or both, he can’t tell for certain.

“Um, well,” Siane stammers, clearly thinking a mile a minute.  “Maybe…just once?”

Nanu smiles and nods and begins to walk again, checking over his shoulder to make sure that Siane is coming along as well.  She’s staying close - good.

“You wanna stop and grab our food before or after seeing the ocean around Ula’ula?”  Nanu asks, though he’s pretty sure he already knows what the answer will be.

“Ocean first,” Siane beams, and Nanu feels his smile grow just a little more.

 ***

 “It’s so warm,” Siane sighs, sitting at the end of a pier and dipping her toes in the water.

“Everything’s warm here, girl,” Nanu says, though his words have no real edge to them.  

“It’s nice.  I really like it here,” Siane admits, one foot kicking up a small splash.  The water droplets sparkle in the sun as they fall.  She watches them, then raises her eyes to the distant horizon where seat met sky.  Nanu watches her, noticing the way the brilliance of the ocean reflects in her eyes.  “Everything is so…peaceful here.  It’s, um.  It’s nice.”

Nanu feels his eyebrows crease; he doesn’t know everything that’s happened in Aedis, but from what he’s able to piece together, Siane’s struggled with conflict nearly her whole life.  The thought that a single day out, with no cares in the world imminent on her shoulders, could mean so much to her tugs at Nanu’s heartstrings, and he puts his arm around her shoulders in much the same way he would comfort Acerola.  Except, somehow, it doesn’t feel entirely like comforting little Ace - but Nanu pushes that thought out of his mind for now.

“It is nice, here,” Nanu agrees.  Siane turns those eyes of hers on him, and he adds quickly, “I’m glad you enjoy it.”  Then, he pulls his arm away and moves away just a little, clearing his throat.  “As you know, I work extremely hard to keep Alola as peaceful as it is,” he says with a wry smirk; his words have the intended effect, and Siane dissolves into unabashed laughter.

“Yes,” she says between laughs.  “Your duties just have you running all over the island, trying to fight crime and dangerous monsters twenty-four-seven.  And you get absolutely no naps.”

Nanu feels his smirk falter a little, because there was a time where he was running all over the island, and fighting Ultra Beasts, and trying to be the best Interpol officer he could be.

And what did it get him?  What did it get her, besides chewed up by Guzzlord, never to be seen again?

“Yeah,” Nanu says faintly, turning away from Siane to look out at the ocean.  “No naps.”  He hears the tremble in his own voice, and hates it.

Siane notices - of course she does, she’s not stupid, Nanu thinks to himself - and scoots a little closer to him once more, putting her hand on his nearest shoulder.  She leans into him just the slightest bit, and somehow the contact feels grounding for Nanu.  The two of them watch the ocean in silence, and though Nanu waits for her to ask what’s wrong, she stays quiet.

Within a few minutes, the world around him begins to feel a little more real again, the echoes of the past fading in his mind.  Siane is still peaceful and silent beside him, still grounding him with her touch, and he wonders how many other people she’s seen like this, back in Aedis.  How many people has she provided her silent support to?

“Let me know when you want to go get sushi,” Nanu says instead.

 Within an hour, they’re heading into the Malie Gardens, little brown bags of sushi in hand.  Sensei had complained about how undignified the brown bags were, but had ultimately capitulated to one of his top customer’s request for inconspicuous takeout.

“Oh, wow,” Siane breathes, pushing a big fern aside so she can get a better view of the lush land in front of her.  “It’s gorgeous here.”  She doesn’t wait for a response, instead pushing forward and approaching the enormous golden-plated bridge that greets the Garden’s visitors.  Nanu hastens behind her, both brown baggies cradled in one arm so he can steady her with his free hand if he needs to.

Not that he’s needed to so far today.  But better safe than sorry, right?

“Is this real gold?”  Siane asks, rubbing the banister of the golden bridge.

“Gold plated,” Nanu shrugs, hovering close by.  “It’s supposed to be a sister bridge to one just like it in the Kanto region.”

“It’s lovely,” Siane says, already on her way across it, running her hand over the smooth banister as she goes.  

Suddenly a thunderous noise draws both of their attention, followed by a quick flash of feathers and a multi-colored beak.

“What was that?”  Siane asks, already enrapt.  Another flash of feathers ensues as the Pokemon circles back around; on its second pass, Nanu is able to identify it.

“That’s a Toucannon,” Nanu says.  “You know all the Pikipek you’ve seen?  This is their final evolution.”

To his horror, Siane actually sets off at a jog after it.  She’d just nearly fallen in the shower literally yesterday, and she was trying to jog today?!

“Its beak looks brilliant,” she gushes.  “I need to get a better look at it.”

The Toucannon in question has roosted on a low hanging branch, and eyes Siane carefully as her footfalls carry her across the bridge.  Nanu’s already running at nearly full bore, desperate to catch up to her - and to stop her from approaching a particularly strong, angry bird capable of spitting seeds strong enough to break boulders.

Fortunately, Siane stops well in advance of the Pokemon, and Nanu watches, fascinated, as her conservation training seems to kick in.

“Look - it’s got a bunch of Pikipek on the trees behind it.  It’s likely trying to protect its family,” she says in hushed tones.  “They’re all drilling into that tree, see?  There’s probably lots of bug Pokemon inside, because it looks like pretty dead wood.  They must not have any issue finding food, because that Toucannon’s beak is in excellent condition.”

“What’s a beak got to do with it?”  Nanu asks, not seeing the correlation.

“A healthy, shiny, smooth beak means it’s eating a healthy and variegated diet.  Birds that don’t eat well can have all sorts of issues with their beak.  And do you see how glossy its feathers are?”  She’s enraptured, but respectful.  And, Nanu notes, she’s breathing hard, clearly more winded from her little jog than she’d like to admit.  “It’s getting lots of essential fatty acids.  Super important for feather health.  You’ve got a pretty healthy ecosystem here, Kahuna,” she adds, finally turning away from the Toucannon and affixing a brilliant smile on Nanu.

His heart skips a beat.

“Well.  Glad to hear your professional assessment,” Nanu says, though he smiles a little back at her, and he actually means the words as he says them.  “Now come on, Siane.  Let’s go find a place to sit.  You’re tiring me out, running me all ragged like this.”

“I’m tiring you out?”  Siane says with a laugh, raising her eyebrows.  “Come on, Kahuna, you’re a fit man.  Don’t pretend this is anything much for you.”

Nanu’s heart does another flip at this.

She thinks he’s fit?

“I’m old,” he says, as much for himself - as a reminder of the one, key difference between them - as for her.  “Now let’s go.”

Siane’s smile falters a little, but she falls into step beside him readily.

“You’re not that old,” she pushes.

“Right,” Nanu snorts.  “That’s why all my hair is gray.  Because I’m not that old.”

“Gray hair looks handsome on you,” she says nonchalantly.  “And besides, I bet you’re just the sort of person that started graying early.”  When Nanu doesn’t respond, her lips curl into a smile.  “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Do you want to eat by the water?”  Nanu deflects.  It doesn’t work, though; Siane’s smile only grows.  She knows she’s right.

“Sure,” she agrees.

 ***

 Sushi by the waters of the Malie Gardens is an altogether peaceful affair.  Nanu can see why that little tea shop submitted a zoning request to set up shop right in the middle of the Gardens; tea would be perfect right about now.

“How’s your food?”  Nanu asks, turning to Siane.  The sun is brilliant on her hair, which flutters just the slightest bit in the breeze.

“It’s…insanely good.  This is absolutely the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”  She’s been taking really tiny bites of her food, as if to make it last as long as possible.  She’s probably eaten only half as much as Nanu has at this point.  “I - I didn’t even really know food could be this good.  I’ve had good food before!  But…”  She bites her lip and looks out at the water, and to Nanu’s surprise, little tears spring into her eyes.

If he thought she’d pulled on his heartstrings earlier, he has no words to describe how gut-wrenching it is to see this young woman start to cry.

“Hey, hey,” he says, quickly scooting closer to her.  “Hey.  Don’t cry, Siane.  Don’t cry.”  He reaches out to her just as she turns to fold into him, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to do.  And if he’s honest with himself, holding her to his shoulder does feel natural, somehow.  As if they had been made to support each other, to comfort each other.

But such a thought was preposterous.  Wasn’t it?

She doesn’t break down into outright tears, but the arm wrapped around her shoulders still feels the way she takes a few deep, shuddering breaths.

“I’m sorry,” she says.  “Everything here is just…so different than back home.  It’s not bad,” she adds quickly, mumbling against his shoulder a little.  “It’s actually really great here.  And somehow, that hurts worse than if it had been just as bad here as back home.  I don’t know if that makes sense,” Siane trails off.

“It does,” Nanu says, grimacing.  “Believe me.  It does, Siane.”  He doesn’t know what to say about the fact that, for all he cares, she doesn’t have to go back.  She could stay with him for the rest of the year, if that’s what she wanted.  Maybe longer.  But she talks about Aedis like she needs to get strong to go back there, so he tries a different tack entirely.  “You’ve been through a lot recently.  Things must be hard for you.  I hope you know…I’m here for you, however I can be.”

Siane pulls away at this, but doesn’t go far.  Her face stays close to his, and she manages a small smile for him.  Then, to his surprise, she cups his cheek in one hand.

“I do know, Nanu.  You’ve been nothing but incredibly kind to me,” she says, her voice low and a little shaky but somehow, so intimate.  Nanu feels his jaw drop open, and he wonders for a moment if she’s going to kiss him.

“I - I’d hardly describe myself as incredibly kind,” Nanu stutters.  He can’t even remember the last time he’d stuttered.

“Well, I would,” Siane says, and presses a small kiss to his cheek before pulling away.  “So thank you.”

Nanu swallows hard, his hand drifting up to touch at the imprint her kiss had left on his skin.

“Yeah.  You’re welcome,” he mumbles, and goes back to eating his sushi, too.

He has a lot to think about.

#nanu #kahuna nanu #officer nanu #nanu x oc #siane #siane oc #oc #pokemon #pokemon sun and moon #sumo #pokemon sumo #commission #aph writes

[thisisawesomeness1825]

oops, i (fake) love you, ch.13

Annabeth

A few days after the double date blow up incident, Piper approaches Annabeth.

The blonde’s kind of shocked, to be honest. She’s fully prepared to see them waiting to pounce on her, and demand she let go of Percy. After all, the date had been nothing but a disaster. But alas, here is Percy’s friend, looking meek and remorseful, and all Annabeth can think is why.

“Um, hey,” Piper begins awkwardly, once she stops in the space besides Annabeth’s locker. She continues fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

“Hey,” Annabeth says, just as awkward. “Anything I can help you with?”

“So, listen. Ah, I know we got on the wrong feet last week and that we acted really mean towards you. Especially at the diner, all those questions and rude remarks were really uncalled for. But you’d have to understand that we were just trying to protect Percy as our friend, and it just so happens that you’re the—the focus of his attention.

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, um, I’m sorry, we’re sorry for everything. We totally could’ve been better in handling the situation. And we’d just have to accept your relationship, even though it’s, um—I don’t know—uh, weird,” Piper finishes, and she looks at her in the eyes.

Annabeth doesn’t know what to say, everything is a little overwhelming, so she blurts out the first thought in her mind. “If you don’t mind me asking, why do you think we’re weird?”

A frown makes its way onto the brunette’s face. “Out of everything I said, that’s what you picked up on?”

“I heard the rest, don’t worry, but why? Why are we weird?”

“Uh, duh." Piper rolls her eyes like it's the most obvious thing she has ever heard. "You two are like polar opposites of each other. And you were enemies for so long, it’s kind of hard to imagine you two both being couple-y and stuff. I mean- I don’t know, I find it hard to think that you probably use fighting to turn each other on.”

First of all, ew. Annabeth scrunches her nose at the thought. “Yeah, no.”

“But other than that, I accept the apology. I’d understand where you’re coming from. I’d also be wary of myself, if I were in your shoes.”

Piper raises her eyebrows. "Sure."

"I know I'm not exactly the bubbliest person--" 

"That's an understatement."

"Yeah, whatever. But truth is, I mean no harm to Percy or to your group. We just want to be together without causing harm to others. And I just want to say sorry if you felt otherwise."

"Yeah, I understand." Piper beams at her. “Great. Friends?”

She smiles back. “Sure.”

“See you at lunch later! Sit at our table so we can bond better!” Piper hollers as she walks towards her next class.

Despite the relationship being fake, Annabeth’s glad something genuine will come out of it.

...

Lunch arrives and Annabeth is a bit hesitant to move at Percy and his friends' table. She's honestly unsure how they are going to treat her, especially with all the tension she experienced before. But Piper kind of expected her to, and it would be quite weird if she can't even sit with her own (fake) boyfriend.

So she shakes her nerves and walks towards the direction of their table. 

She first spots Percy, whose hands are flailing as he explains or argues something with Grover and Jason. Her gaze then lands on Piper. When their eyes meet, Piper immediately perks up and waves her hands around. 

"Annabeth! Come sit here!" 

Now that she's seen, she can no longer make an excuse not to sit with them. She cautiously approaches them and sits herself beside Percy. 

"Hey," he greets. She playfully pinches him and returns the greeting.

She turns back to watch the table warily, and strangely enough, they aren't watching them like hawks do at their prey. Jason even manages a slight smile.

Percy whispers slowly at her. "Don't worry. Piper already told us that you'd be sitting with us today."

"Yeah?"

"Yep. So stop sitting so still, you look like a statue."

She can't help the scowl forming on her face. "You do know how to get on my nerves."

Then, when nobody's looking, she whispers to him. "Prick Jackson."

Percy laughs (the audacity!) and pinches her cheek in mocked fondness and in an annoying voice, "You're so cute!"

At that comment, all of his friends' gazes turn to them. Grover and Jason look like they're trying hard not to laugh; Rachel even smiles, and Piper just grins.

"Well, I never thought I'd see the day you two are together, but I have to admit, this is too cute!" Piper says, genuinely.

"Cute like 'you make me want to play my reed pipes' cute," Grover says. 

Jason scrunches his nose. "That is so weird dude."

 "I don't know. It's like, Grover's dirty talk," Rachel comments.

Piper agrees. "It's like a kinky line from a 60s films. Imagine this: You go into a bar and say something like," she changes her pitch to sound deep like a man, "hey, you make me wanna play my reed pipes."

"Yep, that is so weird," Percy chimes in and laughs. The rest of the table laughs too, and Annabeth finds herself holding back a smile.

…

Percy

"Remind me again why this is necessary?" Percy grumbles as he slouches on her passenger seat. 

Annabeth just hums and swats his feet off her dashboard. "Get your ugly feet off my car!"

He snorts. "That would mean me leaving this car and walking back home, which is very tempting."

She doesn't even deign him a response, but a sharp glare from her prompts him to keep his very beautiful feet back to her carpet. 

He huffs, "Fine. Just so you know, I hate this."

"I know. You've told me about 50 times already."

"And I'm telling you again, just in case you finally acknowledge my feelings."

"No."

"You're evil, you know. Pure, puppy-kicking, steal the last pizza evil. The worst of your kind."

She says nothing, and continues humming to the song on the stereo, like she's mocking him. Percy isn't even surprised, to be honest.

"I don't even understand this! I know you hate shopping."

"Yep."

"So, why? Why are we subjecting ourselves to torture?"

"You do know you're kind of hopeless, right?"

"That's not a proper reason."

"Minus 10 points."

"What? This is graded?" he asks incredulously. 

"Everything you do is," Annabeth says. She makes a very tiny space with her thumb and index finger. "This is how close you are to getting a D."

"No, shit."

"Yes, shit."

They stop at a red light. He stares at her, and she stares right back, unyielding. They refuse to break the challenge up until the traffic light changes to green and cars behind them start honking angrily. 

He breaks the stare with a pout. "Fine. You win this round."

"Told you sooo," she says teasingly.

"You're the worst kind of annoying," he quips, just so he can have the last word.

As they are passing through the traffic, Percy's gaze snagged on a picture of the Golden Gate bridge on a store's front glass. 

"Golden Gate looks so red. And it's not even red."

"It's officially called international orange," Annabeth comments. "It's around 1.7 miles long and 90 feet wide. And did you know that a safety net under the bridge during its construction saved the lives of 19 men? These survivors were officially called members of the 'Half-Way to Hell Club'. Also, an earthquake struck it before it could even be completed. Aaand I think I'm gonna stop now. Did I say too much? 'Cause I feel like I said too much."

Percy just looks at her, amazed. "It's- you're okay. How do you even know all of that stuff?"

Her ears burn red and she refuses to look at him. "Oh, you know, it's just a thing I picked up from living in Cali."

"No, don't even downplay that. You're amazing."

"Not really."

"Yes you are! I'm guessing you just won't happen to know about how tall Empire State is?"

Annabeth not so subtly rolls her eyes at him, but she smiles nonetheless. "Don't even get me started on that. But just in case you're wondering, Empire State Building is about--"

…

About half an hour of listening to Annabeth talk about facts about Empire State Building to the wonderful beams and arches of some classic 'architectural masterpiece' (he forgot the name, he's not really into history anyway), they finally end up at some mall.

He holds back a sigh. "We're really doing this?"

"It's not like I have much of a choice. C'mon, quit babying around. It's not like going inside will kill you or anything."

It does, in fact, kill him. 

Not to be overdramatic or anything, but how can he expect to come out alive when he's being hounded by the salespersons every way he turns?

Annabeth's not doing well either, but she manages to fend them off with a well-placed glare. Percy briefly wonders if she can command an army with just her gaze. It doesn't seem far from the truth.

They pass by a small boutique after picking up some clothes Annabeth deemed decent enough for him. And honestly, she's probably right. He never really paid much attention to his clothes; he just tends to pick whatever seems clean enough from the closet (or the floor, if he forgets to do his laundry). But seeing himself in the mirror after Annabeth throws him a shirt that, in her words, "brings out the color in your eyes", he has to admit that she probably has some kind of magic.

Once they enter the store, Annabeth immediately goes for the dress shirts and hands him a navy blue one. After changing, he opens the door to be appraised at.

"So, what do you think?"

Annabeth's gaze peruses his body, and something close to impressed settles in her expression. "You do clean up nicely, after all."

"That's the nicest thing you've said to me," he comments with a laugh.

"Yes. And probably the last one too," she replies dryly, while inspecting the fit of the shirt on his body. 

"I'm beginning to think you're using this as an excuse to touch me, Chase."

"In your dreams."

"Ha. Like I would consciously dream about you."

One side of her mouth quirks up. "So does that mean you subconsciously dream about me?"

"I don't know. I prefer to call them nightmares. Y’know, like those things that haunt you at night."

She pinches his side. "Ass," she says, but there's a smile threatening to grow on her face.

She turns to the sales lady, "We'll take this."

By then, his gaze has already wandered to the pale yellow sundress hanging off the clothes rack. He picks it up and taps the blonde.

"Hey, why don't you try this one?" He then gestures to the dress he's holding. 

Annabeth frowns. "We're here to shop for you. Not me."

“Doesn’t mean you can’t try something for yourself.”

She throws him a look.

"Fine. I just thought that this will look great on you. It can’t hurt to try." 

She fingers the hem of the dress. "I don't know.."

The sales lady smiles at them. "You should probably listen to your boyfriend. I think the color compliments your tan."

Percy has half a mind to deny the statement, before remembering that they are in fact, must appear to be dating for real. So he settles with an "I told you so" and a smug look directed at Annabeth.

The said girl just rolls her eyes, mutters "fine", and takes the dress from him. She quickly disappears into one of the dressing rooms.

"Little fight?" the lady asks.

He laughs. "Oh no. She's just being difficult. Don't worry, I'm used to it."

"You kind of look like you are."

"That's because I've known her for almost half of my life."

"Really? Must have been a puppy love then?"

Percy doesn't know what to say so he just agrees with her. "You could say that."

"That's cute. Hope you're both still together until marriage."

He blushes to the tips of his ears because if this lady only knew the truth about their arrangement, she wouldn't be saying that. 

Thankfully, he's saved from making a response when Annabeth comes out of the stall.

True enough, the dress fits her like a second skin. Her tan seems to glow with the color. The hem of the dress ended just a few inches above her knees, making her long legs stand out. And yes, they were long enough to keep his gaze trailed down her legs before realizing that he's staring. At the enemy no less, who happens to have really great legs.

Red tints his cheeks. Damn it. He might just have discovered a weakness.

"Well?" Annabeth asks. 

He wishes they could've stopped at that food stall earlier to buy bottled water. His throat feels parched. "Erm...nice."

"Nice?" She repeats.

"Nice. You look nice."

"That's a lie. You look gorgeous, dear," the sales lady comments.

"That's what I meant… in less eloquent words," he whispers under his breath. 

The blonde hears him. "I'm surprised you can say eloquent," she teases, but nonetheless she looks happy with the words.

Rolling his eyes at her, he tells the woman, "We'll take this too."

Annabeth frowns. "I'll pay."

"Nope, it's on me."

"I can and I will."

"No, seriously, I'll take this. You can pay for dinner later."

She looks like she still wants to argue but settles for it at the end. "Fine. But I'm choosing the place."

"As you wish."

Once Annabeth has changed back into her jeans and they begin heading towards the cashier to pay for the clothes, Percy catches the sales lady winking and gives him a thumbs up. 

He’s so mortified he almost misses the shy smile on Annabeth’s face as she turns away from him. 

Almost. But not quite. 

He shares the smile.

…

Ahhh apologies for the late update! To be honest, I have not started any draft re: chapter 13 two (or three) weeks ago, until I received an email notif that someone left a comment on this story. So yeah, I decided to read it again and fell in love with the story once more, and I am back hahaha. Updates may be sporadic cos even in this quarantine I am working at home (woes of public accounting) and sometimes i feel not motivated enough/inspired enough to write a chapter that i’ll love.

But yeah, i think i like this one (cos percabeth are being cute), and hopefully, I’ll have some free time to write the next chapter soon.

That’s it! Hope you like this one and leave your thoughts down below! Thanks!!

P.s. hopefully this didn’t sound like i’m writing you a business email or whatever. lol

#my fic #oops i (fake) love you #percabeth #percy x annabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #pjo #hoo #fake dating au

[feralrosie]

Lullabies at Night

Fandom: Dragon Age Relationships: M!Lavellan/Dorian Pavus Rating: General Audiences Tags: Hurt/Comfort

Read on AO3

Skyhold was hardly ever quiet, even during the coldest hours of the night and, Maker, it was cold. Dorian woke up with the sound of wind escaping through the door and a chilly shiver running down on his spine. He looked for the blankets, patting the bed around him, but suddenly realized there was more missing. Sitting on the bed in a startle, he found himself alone in the Inquisitor's bed. Took a few seconds of drunken thought, but he quickly stepped out of the bed to change into proper clothing and leave the room, avoiding the looks of occasional guardsmen who were chatting in low voices. There were few torches lit at that time, so Dorian could easily sneak past them while looking around the castle—not that he needed to, but wished to avoid gossips later. Anything related to his relationship with the Inquisitor seemed to be specially tasteful for the tongues of nobles in Skyhold.

He searched everywhere and begun to really worry for his lover. Would he leave the castle all by himself? Or was he back to his bedroom? Where else could he be hiding? The mage looked around once more, standing in the middle of the central courtyard. His gaze fell on the main gate, which led to the longest bridge he'd ever seen in any old castles, and noticed that one of the escape doors was slightly open. Lifting one eyebrow, he followed that lead, taking the road on the bridge to reach the lonely tower that watched over for the rest of the castle, despite not being used by the Inquisition's forces at the moment. As he approached, he thought he heard a soft lullaby playing in distance and every new step confirmed there was indeed music playing on top of the tower. The door was open and the stone staircase was large enough for it not to be claustrophobic, so Dorian got up the tower fast and in silence. On the last level, where the stairs met the battlement's floor, he peaked through, wishing to have a look on what was happening.

His Elven lover was sitting on one of the large crenels between the even larger merlons, hugging his knees with his arms while his hands held an ocarina. He was playing the most lonely lullaby, soft and slow, echoing into the night. His golden curls were loose and seemed like dancing with the cold breeze, following the movements of the green cloak he had wrapped around his shoulders. Dorian had never noticed that cloak, but it looked old and overused, showing up a few tears here and there, but nothing that could not be fixed by skilled hands. The full moon was shining over his pale skin and hair, like his whole body was made of polished marble. It was a delightful sight.

The inquisitor did not seem to notice as the man stood a few centimeters behind him, enjoying the music. Dorian thought it felt like a song a mother would sing to her children after telling them that their father could not come back home and was watching them from the stars. His heart skipped a beat and he let the thought perish.

"I did not know you could play" he said finally in a tender voice. Elrian jumped harshly on a startle, almost letting his ocarina fall off the battlement, but the mage behind him was quick to hold it in the air, chuckling softly. "I am sorry, Amatus. I did not mean to scare you"

"Dorian!" he cried in some sort of relief "Don't creep behind me like this, I could have fallen down"

"A risk that could easily be avoided if you have stayed in bed with me" Dorian approached, leaning down to rest the weight of his body on his arms against the parapet where his lover was seated "What troubles you?" his voice was soft but still packed with concern.

The inquisitor bit his lip, looking away, "I just couldn't sleep. Had a dream and woke up"

"A nightmare? Do you wish to talk about it?"

"Not a nightmare. It was a good dream." he sighed, then continued in a low voice, trying to not sound too sad "I was back at my clan. It was summer and we were celebrating someone's birthday, dancing and feasting. My father was showing tricks to the little children, they loved his magic. And my mother was calling me and trying to put flowers on my hair." he smiled and his eyes glittered as tears came to life.

"I am sorry, Amatus" Dorian reached for the other's hand, but Elrian was quick to turn his palm up to show the glowing anchor underneath his skin.

"I hate this thing." he confessed, "And yet I'm grateful I can do some good to the world because of it. I just wish I could do more." he closed his hand on a tight fist "I wish I could have saved them"

Dorian slid his hand over the elf's wrist and made his way to hold his hand, opening his fist softly to tangle their fingers together, "Your family would be very proud of you, Elrian. Do not think otherwise. Their love did not fade away"

"I… know" he wrapped the cloak more around his body, as if trying to shrink his own size "I just miss them so much"

The Tevinter said nothing, for there was nothing else to be said. He passed his right arm around Elrian's body and held his left hand with his own, spooning him and resting his head on his lover's shoulder, kissing it softly. They stood there for a couple minutes before Dorian begun to shake a bit, still not used to the Ferelden cold.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Vhenan. Get in here" Elrian chuckled, opening the cloak and putting over Dorian's shoulders as well.

"Thank you for acknowledging my presence here" he provoked, joking, and hug the elf underneath their improvised blanket, still standing up on the battlement behind. "I've never seen you wear this one. Where did you get it?"

Elrian smiled, caressing the green fabric along the lines of golden embroidery that formed the pattern of vines. "I was wearing it at the Conclave. My mother gave it to me when I got my vallaslin and it was my only fancy piece back home. It survived that night's events pretty well, I think"  

"It is beautiful." Dorian was also appreciating the details "I take the ocarina was also with you that day?"

"It was. It was my father's. Have I ever told you about them?"

"I don't think so." he tightened the embrace "but I would love to hear"

Elrian smiled tenderly. "My mother was a hunter. She taught me how to fight and survive in the woods if I ever needed to. And my father was the Halla Keeper, First to our clan. I was the Second and therefore had to learn both from him and from our Keeper. He told me how to take care of the Hallas and how they seemed to enjoy the sound of the ocarina, so if one of them got lost I could play and let it come back on its own. I enjoyed it just as much. Once all my friends made fun of me because I spent a whole afternoon playing and by night there were dozens of Hallas around me, sleeping" he laughed to himself "They told me I was so boring that not even the animals could stay awake"

"Oh, how dare them?" Dorian laughed.

"When I turned 16, I was convinced my vallaslin would be Ghilan'nain's, the mother of Hallas" he continued "But it was Mythal's, the great protector. At the time I was reluctant and not sure if I was worth it. From that day on, my free time was consumed by extensive lectures from both my father and the Keeper, since I was bound to assume the clan's guidance someday. I think I was failing, to be honest"

"Why do you think that?"

"I was too soft and insecure. Still am, I guess. My father sent me to the Conclave so I could put all my training to test and deal with it all by myself. And when I was made Inquisitor, he sent me a letter saying he always knew I had the soul of a Keeper and was sure I could assume the responsibility. My mother also wrote this letter and said they were very proud. She also told me to be respectful but not bow my head"

"Excellent advise. In my opinion, you are following it just right." Dorian placed a few more kisses on the Inquisitor's shoulder "Sounds like they were great people, I'd loved to have met them"

"My mother would have loved you. She loved all my friends and boyfriends, as long as they took good care of me"

"And do I?" he mumbled, caressing Elrian with his lips.

"More than you can imagine" the answer came in a low and loving voice, the type that usually accompanied blushing. Dorian didn't need to look at his face to know he had colour on his cheeks.

"What about your father? Would he also have approved us?"

"You're from Tevinter, Vhenan" he chuckled as it was an obvious counterpoint.

"Oh, right" he laughed.

"But eventually he would, yes" Elrian leaned down to steal a kiss from his lover's lips "You'd always be welcome"

"That's good to know, Amatus. I mean it" he whispered against his lips "Not only were you destined to make yourself great, but you were also raised as such" he moved away so their eyes could meet "Do not doubt yourself. Your roots are stronger than you think and I trust my life to your leadership and reason. You may think you're too soft, but a passionate heart is greater than the strongest army"

"Thank you, Vhenan" the elven mage whispered back, smiling, but letting a rogue tear run down his cheek.

"Now, now, don't do that. You know I'm awful with feelings" he wiped the tear out, taking the chance to also caress Elrian's face and hair "Say, why don't we go back to your room and you play to me that boring song that makes cattle sleep? We can put it to test"

Laughing, Elrian got down of the crenel "You're a jerk"

"So I'm told. Also spectacularly handsome"  

Both of the men walked side by side, holding hands in the most soft manner, whispering jokes for one another. Elrian also took his cloak off to cover his lover's shoulders and shield him from the cold, which was accepted without ceremony. Back at the Inquisitor's room, Elrian discovered that stroking Dorian's hair was just as effective to put the man to sleep as that lullaby was for the Hallas.

#dorian pavus #Elrian Lavellan #dragon age #Dragon Age inquisition #dragon age fanfiction #dai #lavellan #male lavellan #mage lavellan #dorian/inquisitor #dorian/lavellan #hurt/comfort #my writing

[jbhoneydew]

My first attempt at writing something M*A*S*H related, or writing anything in years. Please message me if you have any suggestions! I might post this to AO3 later.

The 4077th is faced with another cold, winter night and BJ isn’t handling the cold-snap too well. Hawkeye is there to help him out. (2.2K words)

(References to Baby Its Cold Outside (7x10) & Mail Call (2x23) )

__________________________________________________________

“Attention all personnel! Bundle up and grab some coffee in the mess while it lasts. It’s going to be a cold one tonight, folks!”

The bitter wind whipped in the air that would send a strong shiver down one’s spine. It seemed like yesterday the camp was soaking in the rays of the warm summer sun, but those days were long gone.

Time flies when you waste your days doing meatball surgery on wounded men and boys from the front lines - hoping they’ll live to see another day.

It was now the middle of November and the 4077th mobile hospital in Uijeongbu, South Korea was faced with a premature winter storm. The forecast called for flurries, strong winds, and below freezing temperatures that were not welcomed by the unit.

It was the second winter blast of the week and supplies were now low in stock. Extra blankets were non-existent in the supply room. They were either wrapped around patients in post-op or wrapped around the personnel like mummies. Firewood was also scarce due to the last storm. This left the unit scrambling to find supplies they would need to keep themselves warm. 

The unlucky personnel would have to find other means of warmth.

____________________________________________________________

Hawkeye sprinted across the compound towards the Swamp. He just finished his evening post-op shift and Charles had finally arrived to relieve him after being 20 minutes late. Hawk was bundled up from head to toe with his arms wrapped tightly around himself to preserve body head as he ran, a few curse words escaping his lips. The cold air was biting at his exposed face and all he wanted to do was curl up next to the furnace and sleep. 

He finally made it to the Swamp and swung the door open, practically throwing himself inside. 

“Hawk, the door!” His bunk-mate BJ greeted him from his own cot, trying to shield himself away from the bitter cold wind Hawkeye let in by burrowing deeper into his blanket.

“I got it, Beej. Cool it.” he muttered as he slammed the door shut. 

“Mother Nature beat me to it.” muttered BJ as he adjusted the army-issued toque on his head. His teeth chattering in the process. The winter storm was making him miserable. He wasn’t used to the sub-zero temperatures in Korea. It was a new concept.

Before being drafted, he spent his entire life living in California and rarely had to worry about being cold. Living in Korea for the past year  reminded him that not everywhere was sunny and warm like California. He knew it would be cold - but the draft board didn’t tell him it would be this cold.

Hawk wrapped the blanket on his cot around himself and crouched down in the middle of the tent where the gas stove usually was. He raised his hands out in front of it, expecting it to warm his cold and tired body.

He raised an eyebrow when he realized no heat emitted from the unit. He then realized the gas stove was missing. 

“Don’t tell me i’m going crazy. Could’ve sworn we had a gas stove in here. ” Hawk said in confusion. 

“We did, until about 10 minutes ago. Radar took it. He said post-op needs all the gas stoves they can find to keep the patients warm.” explained BJ as he shivered in his bunk. “The last time he did it, I hid his glasses in the meat-loaf. I think i’ll hide them in the latrine this time.” 

“This is just perfect.” Hawk said sarcastically. He stood up and paced around the tent in an attempt to keep himself warm without the gas stove.

“I’m already frozen from my head down to my toes and our good friend, Chuckles, is now sitting in post-op probably bathing in the warmth of OUR gas stove. Now we’re stuck here to freeze our butts off in this flimsy tent!” Hawkeye ranted. “He could’ve at least left his ugly polar suit or gloves to keep us warm! That little-” 

Hawk stopped himself when his eyes landed on BJ for a second time, noticing something different.

“Wait a minute….Is that my sweater?” 

“Mhm.” BJ mumbled as he lifted the collar of the sweater up to keep his neck warm.

The navy blue wool sweater his dad sent him last year was currently wrapped around BJ’s semi-slim frame, the collar of the fabric peeking out from under his olive green coat.

“First you steal my socks, and now my sweater. What’s next? My pants?”

“I was cold and I found it under your cot. You can have it back if you want if you want.” BJ replied as he began to undo the top buttons of the sweater.

“No, no.” Hawk replied as he placed a hand on BJ’s shoulder. “Keep it. I’m just kidding.”

“You sure?” BJ paused. 

“Yeah...it’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes. Not just my socks this time.” 

“Good. Because it’s very warm. Tell your dad I said thanks.”

“Your regards will be in my next letter to Crabapple Cove. Dad will appreciate it.”

“You know..I wish Peg thought of sending me a sweater. Instead she sent more rum cookies instead of something warm to wear. This is Korea we’re talking about. It’s freezing.” BJ half-joked.

“Keep it, Beej. I mean it. Besides, you look really good in my sweater.” 

BJ raised an eyebrow at him. “How can you tell?” 

“Just trust me. You look good.” he winked. 

Hawk laid down on his cot, pulling the thin army-issued blanket over his body to block out the frigid air with little success. He was cold, tired, and all he wanted to do was sleep. 

Hawk turned onto his side towards BJ. He was now sitting up in his bunk, his legs pulled towards his chest with his blanket wrapped around himself. He felt sympathetic for his younger bunk mate. He knew BJ wasn’t experienced in handling cold snaps unlike himself; who grew up in Maine and experienced cold snaps like this every winter.

He watched BJ pick up his most recent letter from Peg that sat on his footlocker and read it for what seemed like the fifth time this week. 

“Can’t get enough of that letter, huh?” Hawk asked, letting out a yawn. 

“Huh? Oh yeah. Keeps my mind off the cold.” BJ replied as he shivered again. 

“What’s new in Mill Valley?”

“She says that they had six warm days in a row. In fact, it was so nice she and my parents took Erin to San Francisco for the day. It says that Erin’s favorite part of the trip was seeing the Golden Gate Bridge. It says ‘I wish you were here to see it, BJ. Her eyes lit up like she was handed the moon. It was the cutest thing i’ve seen.’ Damn. I should’ve been there to see it too. I miss the warmth of San Francisco but instead I'm here about to catch hypothermia.”

“You will be there, Beej. We’ll get out of this dump. It won’t last forever.”

“The peace talks say otherwise.”

“Listen to me.” Hawk said as he raised his head from his pillow. “I will personally march myself up to MacArthur’s doorstep to personally stop this war if I have too. Just for you. You’ll make it out of here in one piece and you’ll see your wife and kid again. You’ll be back in sunny California in no time, and then you can come visit me in Crabapple Cove anytime you wish.”

“Who says i’ll visit?” he teased. 

“Says me. It’s only been a year but we’ve been through hell and back together. This isn’t a bond that can be thrown away once this war is over and we all go home. Trapper left without saying goodbye before you showed up and I haven’t heard a word from him since. I’m not letting you do the same. Besides, how am I supposed to live without Peg’s baking? It’s to die for.” he explained. He knew he was rambling on to BJ but he didn’t care - he needed a distraction from the cold.

“It’s a deal, Hawk.” BJ smiled, placing the letter back on his footlocker. He was lucky to have met Hawkeye, even in one of the worst circumstances possible. It was the only luck he seemed to have since he was drafted.

BJ laid down on his cot again and curled up onto his side.“I have post-op in the morning, see ya then, if we survive the night.” he said as he closed his eyes.

“Night BJ, don’t let the frost-bite get ya.”

BJ grinned. “Yes mom. Goodnight, Hawk.”

____________________________________________________________________________

A particularly strong gust of wind blew against the tent, waking Hawkeye in the process. It felt like the temperature dropped another ten degrees in the matter of hours. He was about to tug his blanket over his head when he heard someone’s teeth chattering. Hawk lifted his head up and noticed BJ visibly shiver in his cot. 

“Beej? You alright?” he half-whispered to him, wondering if he was awake or not.

He didn’t get a response for a few moments until BJ popped his head out from under his blanket. 

“Yeah. Just cold. Go back to sleep.” he mumbled as his teeth chattered more.

Hawk shook his head. Sleep was now a lost cause for Hawk at this point. The cold temperature and howling wind now made it nearly impossible.

Hawk was concerned for his friend who was shivering on the other side of the tent. He knew that he was having a tough time dealing with the frigid cold. It would’ve been a lot easier if the gas stove was here, but they sacrificed it for the patients.

Suddenly, he had an idea to help both of them. 

Hawk wrapped his blanket around himself and made his way over to BJ’s cot.

“Move over, Beej.” Hawk mumbled to the younger man, who moved over as much as he could without a complaint.

Hawk settled himself half on top of BJ and wrapped his arms around the younger man, their legs becoming entangled in one another. He then threw his blanket over top both of them.

“What’re you doin’?” BJ mumbled half-asleep, his teeth chattering once again.

“You’re shivering, so I’m keeping you warm. Damn it, BJ. You’re like an icicle.”

“Mmm. And you’re like a personal body heater”

“Glad I can be useful,” he smiled. “Come here.”

Hawk pulled BJ even closer to him, if it was even possible, and rubbed his arm gently in an attempt to warm him up.

They laid in silence for a while. They eventually rolled onto their sides and had their arms wrapped tightly around each other. BJ rested his forehead against Hawkeye’s shoulder, who had his chin rested on top of BJ’s head. They both fit perfectly in eachothers arms. Hawk smiled when he noticed BJ’s shivering had died down.

“Hawk?”

“Mhm?”

“Thanks for this. Feeling warmer already.”

“No problem, Beej. I’m here for you. No matter what. We’ll get through this.” 

They both fell asleep moments later, the storm already long forgotten as they curled up in eachothers arms.

—————————————————-------------------------------------------------

“Captain Pierce! Captain Hunnicutt! You in there?”

The swamp door creaked open, allowing the morning sunlight to illuminate the tent, and Radar timidly stepped inside the tent.

“Oh good. There you are, sirs.”

He found Hawkeye and BJ cuddled up together on one cot in the back right corner of the tent. BJ was snoring softly, dead to the world. His arms were wrapped tightly around Hawkeye like an octopus and his cheek was resting against his shoulder.

“Radar? What is it?” Hawkeye suddenly asked, startling the young corporel. 

“I’m sorry sirs but Winchester told me to tell you that he wants Captain Hunnicutt in post-op right away. He’s supposed to cover for him and he’s already 10 minutes late.”

“Hmm. Five more minutes.” 

“But sir-“

“I said five more minutes, Radar. I’ll make it an order if I have too.” 

Radar stared at them with his mouth opened slightly and huffed.

“Oh boy. You’re gonna owe Winchester for this. He’s already on my back as it is and I'm not the one who's late!” 

“Go, Radar. We’ll be there soon. I’ll leave last month’s volleyball nudes under your door for you if you tell Winchester to wait a few more minutes.” Hawk smiled.

“Yes sir!” and Radar was gone seconds later.

Hawk then turned his attention back to BJ. He didn’t have the heart to wake him up. He looked so peaceful curled up in his arms and honestly - it felt nice. 

Sure, Hawk spent the night with many of the nurses on the compound and girls back in his hometown but BJ was different. There was something about another man laying against him, seeking comfort that Hawk was more than willing to provide. He realized that he liked taking care of BJ. 

Hawk ran a hand through BJ’s hair and sighed happily. He could get used to this. For the first time in his life, he wished for more wintery cold nights like this. 

#writing #ngl this is kinda bad

[discordantplains]

Arrival

It was another day in the void, when, without any sudden cause or awareness to all, but one, it wasn’t. It was Mot who’s keen eye noticed their startlingly reduced number. While the space Dianite had conjured created a way for them to live mostly normal in a reluctant shared living area as they plummeted endlessly—the missing voice of Tom grating on his nerves was the first sign. He awoke fully and stirred Dianite from his meditation.

“Dianite, we’re missing…” Mot did a quick headcount. “Six people.”

Dianite opened his eyes and turned his head to survey the room. “Indeed we are, a shame.”

Martha shook herself free of her own meditation and looked around the room in horror. “Dianite. All of the sky-travelers are gone.”

“And Deviser Gaines,” Andor spoke up, looking around their shared space.

“I did nothing to cause them to leave—someone else must have pulled them from this space,” Dianite stated. He took in the room in thought. “Perhaps the Deviser.”

Mot thought on it. “He was tinkering with something this past week.”

“We should strive to retrieve them,” Martha suggested.

“They’ve likely already died peacefully,” Dianite decided. “They will be missed.”

...Elsewhere...

Falling through the void, while uncomfortable, cold, and tedious, is possible to acclimate to over time. Getting dumped out of it into new dimensions, however, is not. It’s painful in the same way stumbling out into bright sunlight after spending 24 hours in a dark basement, or falling 50 meters into a body of water, is. Not to mention it comes about suddenly. One moment it’s the 100th round of a rock paper scissors tournament, because what else is there to do in the void, and the next a bright white light is enveloping everything from below and everyone is waking up in a sea of wheat and grass.

They lay stunned for a moment, Tucker, Sonja, and Waglington in a heap of awkwardly twisted limbs and Jordan and Tom somewhere else nearby. With an acceptable amount of groaning and complaining-- “Watch your elbow, Wag!” “Ouch! Sorry Sonja!” “Tucker move your foot!” “Jordan your breath stinks.” “Get off of me, Tom”--everyone manages to right themselves and take stock of their surroundings. And, as it turns out, falling out of the void was about as equally disorienting as the scene in front of them.

Rolling plains stretched for miles in every direction. Waist high grains rippled in the breeze like a body of water. A golden sunset spilling gently across the expanse cast all five heros in a halo of warm orange light. They squinted fiercely in the glow, willing their void-sensitive eyes to adjust in an attempt to locate any landmarks.

“Oh gods, we’re dead!” Tom wailed dramatically, pulling up the grasses around them by the fistfull. He was tearfully staring out into the endless ocean of plains, right into the setting sun.

The Dianite champion sniffled, rolling the fuzzy tips of the grains between his fingers. “It’s like that scene at the end of Gladiator!”

Jordan was the first to recover thanks to the sunglasses perched ever present on the bridge of his nose. He let out a bemused chuckle at the hysterical zombie now mostly-fake sobbing into the stalks of the plants he’d uprooted.

“What are you even talking about...”

“Turn around, dipshit.” Tucker’s voice groaned from behind them.

Jordan complied immediately, unable to hold in an “ooh” of interest. Tom took a few more seconds to be dramatic before listening to the Mianite champion.

It was clear, at least, that they hadn't died, but where they had ended up was another mystery altogether.

Before them lay a momentous city. Gleaming in the darkening skies, with amber and tawny structures rising into the blooming sky--pinpoints of stars bursting into existence. It was difficult to see the scope of it considering the flat nature of the landscape, but, from what the five heros could tell, it was at least as big as Dagrun had been on Ruxomar. The buildings closest to them seemed to be smaller, residential structures, complete with the occasional horse stable or animal pen. Their roofs were wooden and rustic looking. Further in lay grander structures that were just visible if one craned their neck at the right angle.

"Well, this isn't Mianite." Waglington astutely noted, hopping in place to test his powers of flight. They seemed non-existent here, too, just like on Ruxomar.

"You can say that again…" Tucker murmured, in awe of the silent city before them.

"Well, this isn't Mianite." He repeated cheekily, brushing off the dirty look he received from Tucker in response.

Jordan wasn't paying attention to their banter and instead was scanning the edge of town for signs of life, anyone who might've noticed their arrival. On Ruxomar, at least, they had caused quite a stir. Groups of people falling from the sky were not commonplace. He almost expected to see armed guards marching their way across the fields while curious civilians peeked through half shuttered blinds. Yet it remained still.

"Should we go in?" He suggested tentatively, scratching at the dark stubble on his cheeks.

Sonja turned around, hair glowing auburn in the dying light and voicing her opinion for the first time since they landed. She looked into the plains, searching for people in the dark waving grains..

"Wait, we're missing people, where are Martha and Andor?"

"And Dianite!" Tom added loudly.

"Oh, and Mot." Jordan pitched in as an afterthought, realizing Sonja was right. It seemed only half of their void companions had made it through, the inhabitants of Ruxomar being entirely absent.

No one had remembered Deviser Gaines.

They spent a few more moments standing around and looking like idiots. None of them had any answers. Unlike the first time there was no empty land for them to build upon without care--or a number of city people greeting them to guide them into their new world. It was an obviously established world--but dead silent. A pair of eyes watched them from a distance. Then a second. And a curious third.

Tucker sneezed, wiping his nose on his shirt sleeve. "Can you be allergic to grass? I think I'm allergic to grass."

Sonja huffed in frustration, the fox ears on her head twitching impatiently.

"Guys…"

"As much as you're right to be concerned-" Waglington cut in, "-I don't think standing here asking questions will solve anything. Wherever here is…" He cleared his throat. "Besides--if Tucker’s allergic--”

“I definitely am,” he sniffled.

“Then we should move closer towards the town.”

She fell silent for the time being though the continued twitching of her ears and tail betrayed the questions she still had lingering on the tip of her tongue. The most pressing being the question of how they'd arrived here in the first place.

Jordan shuffled awkwardly as silence elapsed between them. Tom attempted to tickle the side of his neck with a green fox-tail. He slapped Tom’s hand away. Tucker sneezed again.

“So...should we go in then?” Wag pressed again.

The darkening prairie behind them was beginning to take on a sinister air as the gently swaying stalks began to bleed into the same muted gray. And then lights in the town began to flicker on, one by one as if by clockwork. There were no other such points of light anywhere else across the plains.

“It doesn’t look like we have much of a choice,” Tucker murmured, looking anxiously around the darkening landscape, “unless we want to get devoured by mobs.”

“Well I don’t know why we’ve just been fucking about in the grass then, let’s go!” Tom whooped, stomping forward and away from everyone else with reckless abandon.

“You were literally the only one messing with the grass.” Jordan muttered before trailing after him, Tucker close behind. Waglington and Sonja shared a more cautious look before following suit.

They cut a swath through the prairie grass which Sonja took to mean that no one else had walked through it in a good while, for, aside from their trampling, the fields around them sat perfectly undisturbed.

There seemed to be only one entrance into the town as fences stretched seamlessly around the perimeter, lit regularly with lanterns to keep out the assumedly countless mobs that roamed the plains at night. Tom arrived at the city gates first, jumping high in order to slap a large sign hanging from an elaborate archway carved from immense spruce logs. He missed spectacularly, nowhere near tall enough to reach what had to be a good eight feet off the ground, and Tucker’s bark of laughter at his failure carried clearly across the open expanse.

A pair of eyes wavered in the darkness as the two others drifted away. It blinked--stare locked on the strangers.

“We probably don’t want to create too much of a scene.” Waglington cautioned as Tom turned on Tucker and dared him to do better. Tom crossed his arms as Tucker raised an eyebrow.

Tucker, never one to back down from a challenge, no matter how ill advised or clearly Tom was goading him into something foolish, took a few steps back and launched himself upwards.

He missed by a mile, stumbling as his booted feet touched down again.

Tom imitated the Mianite champion’s earlier laughter and Tucker shoved him in the chest in lieu of a more mature response. The zombie champion lost his footing and sprawled ungracefully in the dirt. Tucker cackled harshly before yelping as Tom lunged in his direction, swiping for the other champion’s ankles.

“Are you five?” Sonja bemoaned as Tucker scampered behind her.

“Yeah Tucker, are you five?” Tom parroted, strafing from side to side in hopes of spooking Tucker out from behind the other Mianite follower so he could give chase again.

The renowned champion of Mianite rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion as if he somehow had the moral high ground despite still taking cover behind his girlfriend. “Oh my god shut up, you suck.”

“We’re going to wake someone-” Waglington started before the Mianite and Dianite champion’s bickering cut him off again.

Jordan shot him a sympathetic look but otherwise made no move to get involved or resolve the issue. He was busy discretely peeking into darkened windows. And checking various barrels and crates on nearby porches of a few homesteads outside the gate. To be frank it wasn’t very discreet at all and Waglington was concerned that someone would catch and reprimand them.

It would be a shame if this town’s first impression of them was Tom and Tucker fighting like children while Jordan snooped through their stuff. He opened his mouth again to repeat his concerns but the sight of a swaying lantern making its way towards their sorry group had his jaw closing with a snap.

Too late, they were screwed.

“Welcome!” a man-- a doppelganger to Tom--welcomed them. He carried a bright lantern that had all blinded for a moment as he held it up. “Welcome your good selves to the tranquil city of Ihatchu.”

The very familiar looking stranger beamed warmly at them, apparently having missed their misbehavior, or at least was decent enough not to comment on it.

“Alternates again?” Tucker muttered.

“My name is SkeleTom,” the man continued on oblivious to Tucker’s comment. “And I think it’s an absolute delight to have fresh faces in our humble town.” Jordan was cautiously eying what he now deducted was Tom’s alternate for a sign of trouble. Tom, too, was gazing his alternate up and down warily.

“Skeleton?” Tom questioned.

“On the inside,” SkeleTom chirped. “My--you look a lot like me.” Tom looked uncomfortable being stared at that critically, but SkeleTom’s gaze moved on. “In fact--all of you look very close to my friends,” SkeleTom said in a sort of surprise. He motioned them inside the gates and Sonja looked him over. He wasn’t carrying a weapon, which was a good sign. His eyes were brown and blue, heterochromatic. His shirt depicted a skeleton’s rib-cage and his pink jorts were snug, hugging his long legs--legs a few inches longer than their resident Dianitee’s.  

Wag’s eyes lingered on SkeleTom’s legs in disbelief, eyes reluctantly drawn to the stark pink jorts. He forced himself to look up. SkeleTom was a dead ringer for their Tom without a doubt, despite the lack of green pigmentation. It was quite different from Mot who looked like a separate person entirely. These two could have been twins. The SkeleTom fellow was far less aggressive than Tom had ever been in his life. His welcome held none of the impending chaos Tom’s had. .

They followed the bobbing of SkeleTom’s lantern mostly in silence, Tucker and Tom having put their argument aside over the curious appearance of another alternate. The streets were dark, aside from a few sparsely placed streetlights. The windows were black mirrors, void like qualities collapsing the buildings into them--their details vanished among the shadows.

SkeleTom showed them into a bed and breakfast and lit the torches inside with his lantern and flint. Tucker had flopped onto a bed and groaned happily. “I’m so glad to lay in a real bed again.” Tucker kicked off his boots and shoved his head into the pillow. SkeleTom just grinned at them as they took it in.

“It’s free?” Tom asked. He was lingering in the doorway, judging the state of their lodgings.

“Yes, just don’t go breaking anything,” SkeleTom commented. “Honey wouldn’t like that.”

“Is Honey the owner?” Jordan asked studiously sitting on the edge of a bed. SkeleTom shook his head. He rested his fingers in his belt loops.

“She’s the law-enforcement around here.” Tom snorted and SkeleTom fixed him with a look. “I’d do your best not to get on her bad side. She can be one of the swiftest forces in all of the land--she’s Mianite’s champion,” SkeleTom advised. Sonja looked up in surprise and interest.

“My alternate is Mianite’s champion?” she asked. Tucker looked over at her in surprise over her interest and SkeleTom nodded.

“She’s the most feared and respected woman to ever grace the lands. I wouldn’t dream of committing a crime in her presence,” SkeleTom said with complete seriousness. Jordan was staring at him in disbelief.

“You don’t do crime?” Jordan asked.

“Heavens no!” SkeleTom expressed.

Tom let out a snort. “Great--this is the worst world we’ve been to.” Sonja fixed him with a glare and Jordan smiled.

“That’s great to hear,” Jordan said and turned his attention to SkeleTom. He threw the next comment somewhat over his shoulder at Tom. “Glad to see someone more reasonable.”

“Shut your face, Sparklez,” Tom muttered. He stepped in front of Jordan and jabbed a finger into SkeleTom’s chest. “You’re lying--you’re just as evil as I am.” SkeleTom cocked his head to the side and smiled, unintimidated.

“I do bake a mean batch of Monster cookies,” he chirped.

“I like cookies,” Jordan piped up, and SkeleTom peaked around Tom at Jordan.

“Great--I’ll make you all a batch--I love baking for people,” SkeleTom offered. Tom scoffed and crossed his arms.

“Kiss-up,” Tom muttered. “So--let me get this straight. No one here is a prankster? Do you all follow Mianite or something?”

Everyone thought back to Dagrun and its forced monotheism despairingly.

“I follow Dianite,” SkeleTom said. “However, the Ianite champion, Capt Capt--is one of the most notorious and devilish pranksters. He’s the only one who evades the law.” Waglington mouthed ‘Capt Capt’ in disbelief. “He might be your alternate, Jordan--was it?” Jordan nodded. SkeleTom winked at him, “it’s nice to meet a much saner and more eager version of him.” Tom looked at the two disgusted, but his eyes glimmered at the news of Jordan’s alternate.

Tucker who was sprawling on the bed chuckled. “So Jordan is Tom here, and Tom’s Jordan here. Looks like our alternates are just traded personalities of us,” Tucker commented. Sonja snorted.

“As if you were the law?”

“Hey!”

“I’ll just make friends with Capt whatever his name was,” Tom muttered.

“Capt Capt isn’t much for friends,” SkeleTom warned.

“Whatever,” Tom dismissed, staring at SkeleTom in annoyance. “Jordan--you want to go with me tomorrow hunting for supplies and mining,” Tom asked. Jordan turned his head and considered it.

“Sure thing,” Jordan said, always eager to jump headfirst into a new world and explore new technologies.

SkeleTom didn’t seem deterred by Tom’s rudeness and instead listened to them hash out morning plans ambivalently.

“Don’t you want to learn more about our fair city first? I know we’d certainly like to hear more about you.”

“Yeah sure, speaking of--what’s my alternate?” Tucker questioned.

“A farmer--the best farmer and businessman!”

“Fantastic,” Tucker dryly commented.

“Oh you’ll like him, everyone does.” SkeleTom reassured, missing the reasoning behind Tucker’s disappointment. He was clearly hoping for something more badass, but it seemed Sonja had gotten lucky on that end. She seemed quite pleased with it, actually.

“I’d love to meet the others, SkeleTom,” she smiled kindly, “and learn more about the city as well.” She had intentionally skirted around pronouncing the name for fear of butchering it. The spelling on the sign and what SkeleTom had said didn’t exactly line up. It was one of many questions for tomorrow.

“Delightful!” He cheered, mismatched eyes twinkling. “I’ll inform the others of your arrival first thing and we can offer a tour! I guarantee you’ve never seen a city like ours.”

Tucker shrugged. “Not a very high bar honestly given the places we’ve been subjected to.”

“Well, we’ll be sure to raise it nonetheless.” SkeleTom assured, motioning with his lantern as a sign of wrapping up the conversation. “I won’t bother you any further, rest well and I’ll come for you in the morning.”

Jordan and Sonja said friendly goodbyes as the alternate departed, while Tom scowled heavily.

“I hate him.” The Dianite champion hissed as soon as the door shut behind SkeleTom.

“He’s nice.” Jordan commented tiredly. He was curling up in his own bed now, folding his jacket over his nightstand. Tom eyed him disdainfully, standing at the foot of Jordan’s bed to make his point.

“Exactly.”

Jordan just shook his head and closed his eyes.

Waglington sighed, stretching out in the bed he’d claimed without removing his cloak. “He didn’t even mention mine.”

Sonja cocked her head, combing through her hair with her fingers in preparation for the night’s sleep. “Who was your alternate on Ruxomar anyway.”

“Farmer Steve wasn’t it?” Jordan offered.

“Well that makes quite a few things strange.” The wizard commented with a chuckle.

Tucker looked pained, flopping onto his side towards the wall. “Nope, not thinking about that--goodnight everyone. See you tomorrow for the touring bullshit.”

----------------------------

They were woken cruelly early to SkeleTom’s cheerful visage. The sun hadn’t even peeked over the tops of the surrounding buildings yet and the alternate was already beaming. He was offering a tray of coffee cakes that he had no doubt woken even earlier to bake fresh.

“I didn’t know if any of you had allergies, so I kept them nut free just to be safe,” he chipperly said. He held out the coffee cake tray for people to take.Simultaneously, he offered a specially wrapped plate of cookies to Jordan while Sonja and Wag dug blearily into the admittedly stellar breakfast.

He sleepily thanked SkeleTom, possessively guarding the treats from Tom who had no regard for personal space and had crawled onto Jordan’s bed, making grabby hands at the plate.

Jordan slapped his hands away, “Be nicer to SkeleTom and maybe he’ll make cookies for you too.”

"I only had time to make one batch, I apologize,” SkeleTom said to Tom who withdrew from Jordan reluctantly to look up at the two bright and cheery eyes peering at him. Tom eyed Jordan’s batch of cookies.

“Sparklez will share with me,” Tom decided.

“I will not,” Jordan countered. He had stowed the cookies on top of a vanity where he’d balanced precariously on the edge of a chair to do so. He was certain if Tom wanted the cookies he’d at least hear Tom fall over once trying to get them.

“Do make sure to try the cookies and tell me how you like them--I’m always so happy when people absolutely love them,” SkeleTom gushed. Tom threw his pillow at his alternate in annoyance. Without even glancing at Tom he caught the pillow and placed it on the edge of Jordan’s bed without a trace of malice. Tom threw his other pillow at Jordan who did frustratedly return the pillow as he tried to lace his boots up.

Beside the quarreling pair, Tucker was still pretending to be fast asleep and Sonja and Wag were discussing their takeaways from the last world. “So, think about how the last place we went to turned out. A warm welcoming city--then it turned into one god-worshipping area with capital punishment for other god following, a whole ill Ianite saga, and then evil usurpers--I think despite how nice he’s been,” Sonja inclined her head in the direction of SkeleTom, “I think we should be extremely careful.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Wag said. “Well--in any case. The gods will likely be around and we can speak with them about issues.”

Tucker sat up reluctantly, glowering at SkeleTom who had sat the tray of coffee cakes down on a table. The scent of them was alluring and he hastily stumbled out of bed and began throwing his clothes on again, muttering curses. “Mianite needs to save me from here--my allergies are going to kill me,” Tucker said. He sounded very nasally congested and when Sonja offered a look of sympathy he blinked blearily through tearing red-rimmed eyes.

“Oh, he looks gross,” Wag murmured.

“I’m sure we can find an old medication for you or something,” SkeleTom offered. “I wouldn’t want you to have a bad time here on account of allergies.”

Jordan had managed to get dressed despite his ongoing war with Tom. His hair was beyond saving, but he still ran his hand through it, trying to flatten it. He snagged a coffee cake and used his other hand to catch the crumbs. Before he could take a bite he did acknowledge the idea of the gods. “I don’t want to admit it--but according to the earlier cycle...Dianite was evil. Mianite was evil next...and we’ve heard my alternate was kind of evil…”

“Guess we can spend all our time kicking Jordan’s ass,” Tom gleefully suggested. He slammed his pillow into Jordan’s face causing him to drop the coffee cake and then withdrew the pillow before Jordan could take it.

“I’m not going to be evil,” Jordan said, “But thanks for the concern.” He spared a sad funeral-glance for the fallen coffee cake and then grabbed the one he figured was going to be Tom’s and cast a glare at Tom who stuck his tongue out. He was the least dressed of them now and refused to get dressed. “SkeleTom,” Jordan said looking to him, “is that the case? Ianite’s evil…?”

SkeleTom thought on it. He sighed sadly. “Yes...we couldn’t have seen it coming, but she was...disturbed. She tried this whole thing to turn the world evil. We managed to stop her--but this city once built to the gods has been emptied by their fear of her,” he said. He put a hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “But trust me, Capt Capt won’t hurt any of you if you stick close to us. Speaking of which--Honey should be meeting us here.”

“So, Capt Capt kills people?” Tucker asked. He was eating his coffee cake unaffected. He had spoke with his mouth half-full and SkeleTom eyed him with disdain, but his chipper smile returned regardless.

“Not anymore, although his pranks can be a little too lethal. Honey and him have worked on their differences and despite his desire for fun, he won’t push her too much. But I must caution--Capt Capt is a voracious liar. He does love to manipulate and I wouldn’t suggest spending any time alone with him,” SkeleTom cautioned. He eyed Tom again who was finally starting to get dressed. Tom looked up at him and shook his head.

“Let’s get going then,” Wag said. “I’d like some daylight hours when we’re done to explore on my own.”

SkeleTom smiled. “We’ll try our hardest---although it may take the whole day.”

“Can I opt out?” Tom asked.

“No,” Jordan answered for him.

They spent a few more moments munching on SkeleTom’s breakfast while waiting for Tom to get ready. And when it became obvious he was intentionally dragging his feet they all got up to leave, incentivising him to get his act together or be left behind.

Jordan had a feeling that’s what he wanted though, so while Tom was dragging his feet through putting his jacket on Jordan strong-armed him out the door, ignoring Tom’s attempt to cling to the door frame.

Though the early dawn light was gray and muted it offered the five heroes a much better look at their surroundings than the night prior. The bed and breakfast seemed to be situated between a boutique and a small oddities shop with a large open area, presumably meant for a marketplace, about half a block away. The best way to describe the style of build was “quaint” as the earth tone brick and wood supports gave off a small town feel despite the scale of the city. Waglington thought it matched the exposed wood trussing inside the bed and breakfast quite nicely. Overall everything was quite prim and proper, with manicured shrubbery and pristine streets.

Speaking of prim and proper, a woman who exuded such attributes was waiting for them at parade rest on the walkway a few paces from the door. She was dressed in shining armor and carried herself in such an authoritative way that meant she could only be the Honey SkeleTom had spoken of.

Sonja looked her over curiously, straightening her own rumpled clothes in slight embarrassment as everyone spilled out onto the covered porch. Honey was tall, taller than Sonja for sure, and her shoulders were broad and stiff. Her eyes were stern, creased slightly at the edges in an indication that she was older than Sonja, but the small rounded animal ears on her head proved that she was indeed Sonja’s alternate self.

Upon spotting her, SkeleTom bounded over and threw his arm around her shoulders, though she was a bit too tall to make it look comfortable.

“Good morning, Honey!” he said cheerfully. She seemed to be only tolerating his presence, “Meet our doppelgangers.”

She nodded curtly, eyeing them all as if they had already been suspected of a crime. Jordan hoped their justice system was less corrupt than Dagrun’s if this was how strict their law enforcement was. Tom was eyeing an obvious abundance of metal sitting in a crate and Jordan pinched his arm. The zombie mimicked biting him.

“Welcome to Ihatchu,” she said in an unwelcoming tone, “my name is Honey Badger, as I’m sure SkeleTom has already told you. Would you care for your tour?”

“Not that there’s a choice, right?” Tucker grumbled, still wiping sleep from his irritated eyes.

Honey Badger regarded him coldly. “No, there is not.”

“Ah, your alternate is very personable, Sonja.” Waglington stage whispered.

“You should catch her when she’s off duty,” SkeleTom interjected, “she’s much less prickly.”

Everyone found that hard to believe. Sonja ended up helping Jordan keep an eye on Tom, but soon she saw Jordan’s eyes roaming to unattended technology with feverish intent and had to start reminding him too that if he thought to helping himself they were screwed.

The tour was long. Every single important stop Honey would give a brief description of, and SkeleTom would add in a long and overflowing anecdote relating to any time he spent there. The only relief they got was when someone cut in before he could speak.

“Here is the town square,” Honey said and Sonja caught a sparkle of pride in her eyes.

It was a grand area, spacious and well decorated. All the buildings were tall, multiple stories with intricate brickwork, elaborate window sills, and tasteful wooden accents befitting a town square. There was a bank, a courthouse, a town hall, as well as what looked to be a humble Mianite temple. It was nondescript and not very large but Tucker’s red rimmed eyes lit up at the sight, eager to make some prayers that would result in him being whisked away from the allergy hell he’d landed himself in.

Lounging on the steps of it was a short, dark haired man, picking at the grout in between some stone slabs with a curved dagger. He was lying back across the stairs, tracking the arrivals with sharp green eyes. Honey stopped them short just as Tucker’s foot nearly crossed a trip wire.

“Aw, Honey--ruining my fun this early?” the voice was low and deep and Jordan could hear the oaky pirate accent he sometimes wished he had. Beside him, Tom was staring at Capt Capt with a look of raw appreciation. Jordan elbowed him.

“Don’t give my alternate that look,” Jordan hissed.

“Sparklez, he’s kind of hot--in a pirate way.”

“He has my face,” Jordan muttered.

“Did I ever say your face wasn’t hot?” Tom wiggled his eyebrows. Jordan sighed and he saw his alternate narrowing his eyes at him. The man gripped the hilt of his cutlass and peered up at Jordan. He was 5ft 5’, but his long jacket and steel-toed boots were stained with blood. What he lacked in size, his eyes made up for. The creases and sun-freckles across his face dotted the area near his eyes with the impression he had only just stepped off a ship. A ship where he had spent days peering into telescopes or into the stormy sky, bracing for death and destruction.

“Let me kill that one at least,” he grumbled, staring into Jordan’s soul. The green of his eyes darkened like fog curling off water in desolate still seas.  “I hate duplicates. Only one of me across space and time.”

Jordan couldn’t shake the chill running up and down his arms. “Sit back down, Capt,” Honey had pulled her rapier out.

“It’s Captain Captain,” he muttered darkly. “I can help with the tour--don’t I love being courteous,” he said sarcastically.

Tucker whistled lowly and stepped over the trip wire. “Jeez, Jordan you call yourself a captain--but look at this, man…?”

“Captain Captain,” the man corrected. He said nothing more as he examined the lot of them, eyes lingering hatefully on Jordan. Jordan tried to be friendly despite the threat on his life. “Well, hi--I’m Jordan.”

“You’re dead is what you are,” Captain-redundant muttered.

SkeleTom gasped dramatically. “Oh Capt, don’t be that way.” He rested his arm on Captain Captain’s head. “Capt is short and full of anger.”

“Captain Captain,” Captain Captain muttered and kicked SkeleTom’s shin, causing the other man to hop away, missing the trip wire. SkeleTom happily returned to Honey’s side, leaning on the stern woman and looking Captain Captain over with amusement. Sonja exchanged looks with Wag.

“He’s something,” she murmured.

“Something strange,” Wag agreed.

Tom was still staring mystified at Captain Captain who, despite his offer, had not decided to join them on their tour. Instead he settled back down on the steps, chewing on a cigarette and fixing his long wavy hair from where SkeleTom had mused it up with his physical contact. Tom would have tripped on the trip wire if it wasn’t for Wag grabbing his shirt collar and hefting him over it. “Oh no you don’t.”

“That’s my new best friend,” Tom told him.

Captain Captain looked the other way as if he couldn't be bothered with any of them. Tom tried to wink at him. The surly double didn’t acknowledge him.

“We’ll go see the farm next!”

“Yes,” Honey hadn’t put away her sword. “To add onto the rules I went over earlier: Unauthorized food distribution and creation is not allowed--Mericho is our supplier of food. If you are in need of money, I suggest taking on a number of jobs or if working for us is not a savory idea, I suggest you can go on mining expeditions--so as long as you follow the rules I referred to earlier. If you are in need of a reminder, feel free to ask during acceptable daylight hours. No mining past city limits. Mining shafts must not breach occupied residences. Mining shafts must be approved by city ordinance. Mining after sunset is strictly forbidden.”

“Hey, can we get a modification on some of those rules?” Tucker questioned.

“Absolutely not.”

“Then I’ll just break them,” Tom muttered. SkeleTom overheard and shot him a nervous smile.

“Honey breaks hands for rule infractions.”

“I do,” Honey confirmed.

“Those rules are kind of ridiculous,” Wag stated.

“If you’d like to petition to have a rule changed you’d need to have lived in the city for a designated amount of time--one month-- and submit your appeal in writing with neatly outlined reasons for the desired change,” Honey stated. The group of friends exchanged looks. Jordan opened his mouth, thought about it, and then carefully chose his words.

“We appreciate the hospitality, but we are new. Could we have just a week to mine at night and possibly further away from the city. We’d be willing to have an escort--but just for that week? Then we could stick to the rules?”

The law enforcement woman came to a halt. She looked to SkeleTom and then tapped pensively on her rapier hilt. “...You can have three days,” Honey decided. “I or SkeleTom will accompany you. Or the both of us if you desire to split into separate groups. Should you act of poor character, I shall revoke it.”

Tom had crossed his arms and was looking on making a break for it and Tucker looked to be a second from joining him. Sonja whispered something to Tucker along the lines of ‘if you die, it’s your own fault.’

“Thank-you,” Jordan decided.

The rest of them gave him a filthy look, even Sonja couldn’t hold back her unhappiness. SkeleTom, on the other hand, was ecstatic. He clapped his hands together. “I’m so glad you’re happy to fit in.”

“Happy,” Tom muttered. “Only one of us is an absolute brown-noser.”

Wag coughed and muttered Jordan’s name as if he was being subtle. Tucker sniggered and Sonja cracked a smile, but quickly let it fall as Jordan gave her a look.

“I’m negotiating,” Jordan argued softly.

“Oh absolutely!” Tom mocked SkeleTom’s voice. He made an obscene gesture. “Negotiating to suck up to them. What’s next, gonna ask to lick their boots?”

Honey had her back to the group, but Sonja saw her ears twitching. She was listening. She didn’t let it be known and Sonja felt a seed of worry. SkeleTom was more obvious. He was walking backwards, his eyes sparkling with delight as the group of men quarreled. Jordan’s voice pitching higher the more distressed he got. Wag making hand gestures with Tom as Jordan got too flustered and Tucker quietly laughing at it all. She seemed to be the only one watching the alternates...well, second set of alternates--they did know Mot and Steve and the presumed living alternates in their old world. So did that make this lot alternate alternates?

She might have been reading into it too much. Did it matter if these alternates were judging them? Their group dynamic was chaotic at best compared to these alternates’. But she caught SkeleTom’s eye and he just winked and turned back around, his slight skip unfaltering. If they were bothered by her watching…they didn’t show it.

Jordan had enough of their teasing and joined Sonja towards the front as Tucker, Tom and Wag fell back to continue their taunts. Jordan cast a vexed look over his shoulder. Sonja shook her head, “Ignore them.”

“Don’t worry, Jordan--or is it Sparklez?” SkeleTom had joined them, walking in-step with Sonja easily.

“It’s Jordan,” Jordan sighed.

“Sparklez!” Tom corrected from the back of the group and SkeleTom lit up, mismatched eyes creasing mirthfully at the edges as if that was the funniest joke in the world. Jordan didn’t get it.

“You’ve got something in common with Capt at least.”

“Yeah, I dunno about that. Kind of seems like he wants to kill me,” Jordan cast a look over his shoulder again to see if the pirate was still in sight, only to see Tom making a face at him. He sighed. SkeleTom traded places with Sonja and threw his arm over Jordan’s shoulder and pulled him close.

“Aw, cheer-up. I appreciate your willingness to accept our culture,” SkeleTom said.

“Thanks,” Jordan said. “But I think I’ll have to combat with Honey on some of those rules.”

“You won’t win,” Honey assured him. “But if you all behave I can see to expanding some privileges. There’s been very few people to govern over for awhile, after all,” Honey offered. Jordan sighed in relief. He had for a moment doubted himself, but he knew he wasn’t a brown-noser. He was just trying to be civil.

“I can’t promise they’ll behave,” Jordan muttered, jabbing a finger behind him.

“Suck one, Sparklez,” Tom jibed. He heard Tucker and Wag laughing.

“We’ll evaluate on a case-by-case basis,” Honey amended. Sonja frowned.

“As much as I appreciate that, I also don’t…” Honey looked to her questioningly. Sonja tucked her hair behind her shoulders and unconsciously crossed her arms. “I do like my friends and we’re not from a land with that strict of laws. Please do not kill them for it.”

Honey nodded curtly but didn’t otherwise respond. Sonja was unsure whether to take that as an affirmation or not. She let her arms uncross and dangle at her side. She tried not to let her thoughts bother her, but she kept looking to Jordan. She wanted to express that ‘You really caved too quickly’, but felt it would be rude with SkeleTom standing right there.

They were growing closer to the farms and Honey slowed the group, sidling up alongside a portion of the fence with a gate. SkeleTom disengaged from Jordan to greet the three dogs that had come to alert at the edge of the field as they grew near. They looked vicious, but at the sight of Tom’s alternate they happily wagged their tails and slobbered all over him as he bent down to pet them. Honey whistled sharply and one of the dogs detached and went sprinting into the fields to find something--or ,rather, someone.

Tucker stayed far back, eyeing the grass with disdain while Wag curiously looked over the crops. Tom had wandered towards the front and was looking between SkeleTom and Jordan suspiciously “You know I was just messing with you, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Jordan dismissed and walked away from Tom. Tom looked at Sonja in disbelief.

“God, Sparklez is an emotional bitch,” Tom muttered.

“And you aren’t?” Sonja countered. Tom looked shocked, but the expression fell away and he pettily pulled on a piece of wheat. He stuck his tongue out.

“Not as much as he is,” he pulled a piece of wheat free and was surprised when a dog came tearing at him, ripping into his pant-leg. “Ow, ow! Down Fido! Down!” SkeleTom looked up at Tom, but did nothing to call the other dog back. He was happily giving the calmer dog a belly rub. Jordan was looking at farming equipment and Honey didn’t seem to care Tom was being murdered. It ended up being Sonja’s job to convince the dog to let go.  Tom limped to join Tucker, turning up his nose and refusing to go any nearer to the crops as a man in faded blue overalls and light brown hair approached them.

“Well, I’ll be,” Mericho grinned. “Looks like we got strangers to the land after all this time,” he said amicably and he offered a hand to Sonja, the nearest. “The name’s Mericho.”

His smile was bright and cheerful, complete with perfectly straight white teeth, glimmering sky blue eyes, and a strong jawline. He looked as classically handsome as his accent had lazy twang.

“Sonja.” She greeted.

Jordan joined her and shook the man’s hand. “Jordan.”

The other three declined to come forward and so Sonja reluctantly just gestured in their direction. “Tucker’s allergic to grass. Tom’s scared of the dogs. And Wag’s the one completely oblivious.”

“Am not,” Wag called back.

“Allergies huh?” Mericho pondered with a low whistle and a tug on his overall straps, “SkeleTom, d' you reckon you have anything for that unfortunate fellow?” He ignored the dog comment, no doubt noticing the sorry state of Tom’s leg but most likely assuming he deserved it. Judging by the way the animals obediently heeled at his approached they were obviously well trained.

“Reckon I do,” he called back, mimicking Mericho’s accent and choice of diction jokingly. “I’ll have to look around for a bit though, haven’t run into this problem in a while.”

Tucker sucked in a tired breath and wiped his runny nose discreetly, looking miserable. Sonja gave him a sympathetic look before turning back to the idyllic farmer with a question.

“So, you four are the only people who live here? It’s such a big city.”

“‘Fraid so. Built it with the gods’ best intentions, but after the first-wave of people and Ianite and what have you, none came. Too many scared off by Cap’n Devil Boots over there,” Mericho said, and gestured to where Captain Captain had followed them and was now aiming a crossbow at the back of Jordan’s head. At the call-out he lowered it, muttering his full name. Tom looked at him in awe. He flashed a thumbs up to Captain Captain but the alternate scowled at him. “Those that did live here eventually had to retire away elsewhere. Cap’n No Fun is a fearsome little man.”

“Captain Captain,” he corrected. He leveled the crossbow again at Jordan’s chest and Jordan stared at him from where the pirate sat on a haybale in disbelief. “And ye be forgetting how you all played a part in it?”

The other three were strangely silent and Sonja caught a motion from SkeleTom. But when she looked to him he was smiling sadly. He shook his head at Sonja as if to say ‘he’s hopeless.’ Honey shook her head. “Don’t pay him mind, he’s like poison here. I’d see him face the law if he wasn’t too damn slippery,” she let a rare curse slip.

“And our good friend!” SkeleTom added.

“He sure is despite his flaws,” Mericho said.

“Does anyone notice he keeps trying to kill Jordan?” Wag muttered.

“He won’t do such a thing,” Honey stated. “Now will you, Captain Captain?”

He looked grateful that she said his full name and reluctantly sighed. With a small nod he lowered the crossbow. “If he falls in a trap it’s not my fault. Ye scurvy rats,” he muttered. “See you roasting on a spit with crossbow bolts through your neck and arms, you foul double.”

Jordan swallowed uneasily and SkeleTom stood and wrapped an arm around Sonja and Jordan. “Now now, Capt Capt--let’s treat our guests with some love.”

“Captain Captain,” he spat. “You saccharine sack of shit.”

“Oh, he’s a sour pus,” SkeleTom murmured and pecked Jordan on the cheek before standing beside Mericho who passed him a bag of apples. Jordan rubbed his cheek in slight shock and Tom narrowed his eyes from where he stood by Tucker. He looked to Captain Captain and attempted contact again.

“He’s evil, isn’t he?”

“Which one, lad?” Captain Captain humored.

“SkeleTom,” Tom said.

“Yup,” Captain Captain said and Honey shot him a look. “Gives ye diabetes,” he amended and Sonja didn’t miss Honey’s fed-up scowl. The moment of relative civility Captain Captain was upholding was nice--but was ruined by him immediately shooting a crossbow bolt at Tom’s feet--who yelped and, on his bad leg, was sent toppling to the ground.

“Hey!”

“My hand slipped,” Captain Captain offered. “I’ll walk ‘em back.”

“You will not,” Honey corrected. “We’re having a talk. Tonight.”

“The four of us?” Captain Captain asked amused.

Sonja couldn’t help her ears perking up. She was curious. Even Jordan was looking at them. But Honey leveled them all with a look. “It’s a private matter. We respect yours--you’ll respect ours.” SkeleTom nodded.

Mericho smiled sympathetically and flashed a warm grin. “I’ll send along some food with SkeleTom who’ll escort y’all back. Heard he wants to see Cap’n’s alternate try some cookies. You should see how his face glows when someone loves his cookies.”

SkeleTom slapped Mericho’s arm in obvious playful happiness. “You’re too nice, Meri.”

“Can’t help but be nice to a pretty man like you,” Mericho teased.

“Blech,” Tom muttered. He stumbled to his feet and leaned on Tucker who immediately pushed him off, staring queasily at Mericho and SkeleTom. “We aren’t that close,” Tucker muttered.

“What? Scared of cooties?” Tom teased.

“I’m taken,” Tucker immediately said.

“Relax,” Tom rolled his eyes up, “You’re my friend. We aren’t going to start sharing gossip and holding hands.”

“Not with how many times you haven’t washed yours,” Tucker said.

“I saw you once just use hand sanitizer after--” Tucker covered his mouth as Sonja turned towards them. She looked at Tucker questioningly and he just shook his head. His nose was still dribbling. He let go of Tom to wipe his nose and Tom looked at him disgusted. Wag was poking around, but one wave of the rapier from Honey and he let go off the tractor he was beginning to operate for fun. He dropped down and followed after the group, idling next to Jordan who was purposely avoiding Tom.

“Jordan,” Tom whined.

“No,” Jordan replied.

“Bitch.”

“Jackass,” Jordan returned.

“You love me.”

“Uh-huh,” Jordan murmured.

“Admit it,” Tom pressed and dropped back to bug Jordan.

“Are you five?” Jordan questioned. “I am not playing this with you. Go bug Tucker.”

“Tucker’s covered in snot,” Tom said. He thought of SkeleTom and tried to wrap his arm around Jordan, but Jordan immediately shoved him. Tom recovered, but he stared at Jordan in dismay. Wag walked between them to keep them from fighting.

“Tom, grow up,” Jordan told him.

“Loosen up,” Tom responded. His thoughts went south and he opened his mouth to add on, when SkeleTom butted in. Tom glowered at him, but SkeleTom was oblivious.

“I must get all of your favorite cookie flavors.”

“I like Snickerdoodle,” Wag said.

“I can’t taste shit right now,” Tucker bemoaned.

“I’ll have whatever,” Sonja said.

“And you Tom?”

“I’ll have your face smashed in,” Tom said.

“Ah,” SkeleTom’s smile crinkled his eyes. He stage whispered in Jordan’s ear. “No wonder he wants to be friends with Capt Capt!”

“Jordan’s my bitch, he doesn’t answer to strangers,” Tom suggested.

“You know, I’m considering not going with you tomorrow,” Jordan decided before answering SkeleTom, “I like peanut butter.” Jordan mouthed a countdown from three as Tom looked to him with wide glittering black eyes.

“Sparklez! That’s unfair!” Tom gasped.

“Yup--I’m ditching you.”

“Sparklez! You're traitoring me! For him!”

“I’d love to have you around--but I think I’m babysitting you guys while you go mining,” SkeleTom said. “However, you can be in my group.”

“Traitor,” Tom hissed.

“Why am I between you two again? Ah yes, so I can get spit on by Tom,” Wag murmured. Tom rubbed his mouth self-conscious. Sure--part of his mouth didn’t close from being a zombie, but he didn’t drool that much.

Sonja tuned out their bickering and Tucker’s sniffling, turning instead to look back on the fields they were leaving behind. Mericho was leaning on a fencepost and waved good naturedly as he caught her gaze. Honey and Captain Captain didn’t offer such friendly goodbyes and simply glowered at their retreating backs. She wondered what a private meeting between such polarized characters would be like but didn’t expect an invitation anytime soon.

Despite SkeleTom and Mericho welcoming them with open arms, Sonja noted that they seemed a little on edge. Containing Captain Captain’s murderous streak was probably stressful but she figured it was more along the lines of being apprehensive about new arrivals. The lone city in the sea of plains was picture perfect, and she didn’t entirely trust her friends not to mess it up either-- so in a way she understood Honey’s strict demeanor.

The sheriff's gaze still burned the back of her neck, however, and so Sonja set her eyes outward across the prairies beyond the city limits. The grand tour had taken all day, her sore feet alone murdering her. In the dying evening light she caught pinpricks of light in the distance.

| ABOUT | CHARACTERS | PLOT

#mianite #discordant plains #Mianite: discordant plains #Mianite fan fiction #fanfic

[goddessofgamma]

Extreme Lengths to Prove Loki Wrong, part 2, written for a prompt from @ragnarokwrites​

Summary: Bruce and Thor make their way to Asgard for Christmas, and Bruce tries his best not to be too intimidated by Thor’s eccentric family.

Thor scanned the crowd at the Airport entrance.  There was a little excitement on most of the faces there, although it was almost always tempered by a fair amount of stress.  Raising his head as high as he could, Thor searched for the dark grey mop of curls that was so familiar to him.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand pat his arm and heard Bruce’s voice.

“Hey, Thor.”

“Bruce!” Thor had tried to hide the surprise in his voice but failed.  “You’re here, good, I was beginning to worry.”

“Worried that I was gonna decide that committing treason wasn’t how I wanted to spend my Christmas?”  Bruce asked, shaking his head.  “Apparently all my good sense left when you came into my life.”

Thor couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Thank you, for everything, Bruce, I know this would not be your first choice for a festive activity.  I hope you get some enjoyment from these few days.  Asgard is beautiful, and you are very good company.”  Gaze lingering on Bruce for a little while, gauging his mood, Thor’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an announcement, making him remember what they really should be doing.  “Our flight’s luggage check-in is over there, we should get going.”

“Mjoln-Air?” Bruce read the airline name from the sign above the counter.

“Asgard’s largest commercial airline.  My father offered to fly his jet here, but –“ Bruce looked queasy and intimidated at that “- I thought you’d find it all a little ridiculous.”

“I guess it’s gonna be a bit hard to forget that you’re royalty for the next few days,” Bruce sighed.

“You usually forget that I am royalty?” Thor chuckled.  “Do I not appear regal enough to you, Banner?  Please do not tell me I am not a charming prince.”

“Erm, yeah, you do look regal.”  Bruce seemed flustered, as they made their way to the queue.  “And charming.  But maybe it’s just because I’ve known you for a while now. I think you’ve started saying things like ‘need’ instead of ‘require’, you’ve got a little less prince-like.”

That queue, and the next, and the one after that, went very smoothly for the two of them, which Thor suspected was something to do with the Mjoln-air staff recognising him as a prince.  In all the time they had waiting, they were able to discuss the ins and outs of their so-called ‘relationship’.

The story they were going with was simple, sticking as closely to the truth so that neither of them would stumble when asked questions.  They had known each other through work.  Thor had been spearheading the charitable organisation funded by the wealth of his father, looking for projects that were worthy of their funding, and one of the projects he had looked into was Bruce’s work on regenerating people’s immune systems.  The results, so far, were promising, and Thor had been so enthralled by Bruce’s work that they had gone for dinner afterwards so that he could continue their conversation.  New to the States, Thor had found his first set of close friends through Bruce.

All of that they would describe as it had really happened.  What they would change was what followed.

According to their story, each visit that Thor had made to Bruce’s labs after that was not only to make sure his money was being spent well, but to work up the courage to ask Bruce out.  After half a year of friendship and coffee dates, Thor had taken him to dinner and told him how he felt.  Since then they had been going out for just under a year, and were thinking of finding a place to move in together.

When they made their way onto the plane, Thor could feel Bruce tense-up.

“Is everything okay?”

“What?”

“Everything’s okay? Are you okay with flying?”

“Oh, yeah.  Well –“ Bruce fidgeted, brushing his hair back with his hands. “- I’m okay with heights, it’s just the whole ‘confined in a small space without being able to get up’ thing that doesn’t bode well for me.  I should have brought a book, something to distract myself.”

“I can distract you,” Thor offered.

“You, er, you can?”  Bruce looked a bit uncertainly at him.

“Of course.”  The plane was making its way forward now, the wheels spinning, accelerating.  “I’ll keep you occupied.”

“Thanks.  You’re a good boyfriend,” Bruce joked.

“I am.”  The plane had just left the ground.  “Tell me, Banner, what other things make me a good partner?”

“You, err…”  Thor could tell that Bruce was a little off-put by the plane taking off mid conversation.  “You always take an interest in my work.  You look out for me.”

“Mmm,” Thor hummed his approval.  “Am I a romantic?”  Bruce almost smiled at that.

“Yeah.  You took me stargazing on my birthday.  Surprise me by looping your arms around me when I’m cooking us dinner.”

“You mean when you’re putting our ready meals in the microwave,” Thor corrected.

“You make sure I’m never in a situation that makes me too uncomfortable.  Always turning up to the labs with a sandwich to make sure I’ve eaten something.”  That last one was true.  “Yeah, you’re a good partner.  What about me?”

Thor considered for a moment.

“You’re also romantic, but not in the usual way.  You humour me, when I want to try something new or get a stupid inclination in my head.”  Bruce raised an eyebrow.  “You’re the one that microwaves our meals.”  He was met by Bruce shaking his head.  “What? I thought that preparing meals was romantic.  Anyway, you always look out for me, sometimes more that you even look out for yourself, much to my distress.  And in the bedroom…”  Thor trailed off, teasing.

A packet of peanuts hit Thor’s cheek, and he laughed.  Bruce’s face was stark.

“Don’t…” He warned.

“What? I was just going to say that in the bedroom, sparks fly.  You are quite a genius in every area of life, Bruce, even after the lights are out.”  Thor used the best, deepest flirting voice he had.  Bruce put his head in his hands, but he was smiling underneath it all.  “Have I distracted you yet?”

Throughout the flight, Thor continued to try to distract Bruce, talking about everything from Asgardian mythology to going through all the elements of the periodic table (with Thor insisting that Bruce would one day have an element named after him).

They walked straight out of the airport once the landed, none of the customs staff wanting to delay the son of the king.

“How are we getting to the palace?  Castle? Whatever it is?”

“My father has sent a car to pick us up, just look for the sign that says ‘Mr Odinson’”

Bruce’s eyes scanned across the cab drivers.

“Is it that bald guy over there, with the tattoos?”

“What? No, it should be…” Thor stopped talking as he saw the man Bruce was indicating, with a hand-drawn sign saying ‘Prince Thor’.  “Maybe it is.”

Approaching the man, Thor looked apprehensive.

“You here to pick us up?  Who are you, where’s Volstagg?”

“Don’t you remember me?  I’m Skurge, your sister’s right-hand man.  Volstagg had a little too much to drink last night so they sent me instead.”

Thor groaned.

“My sister’s here?”

Skurge nodded and turned to Bruce.

“Let me help you with your luggage, Mister…?”

“Doctor Banner,” Thor corrected on Bruce’s behalf.  “There’s no need, I’ll do it.”

Thor hefted the suitcases into the boot.  He smiled a little when he noticed how Bruce was watching him carrying multiple bags at once and took it as an opportunity.

“Like what you see, Bruce?”

He didn’t respond immediately, and Thor thought it likely that Bruce had for a moment forgotten their ruse.

“Yeah,” Bruce humoured him.  “You make a very gallant prince.”

“Gallant, is that what I am?  I thought you said I was charming?”

“Synonyms,” Bruce explained.

“Mmm,” Thor agreed.  “But generally people don’t dream of one day meeting their ‘Prince Gallant’.”

It was pitch black as they drove to the palace, with only the moon and the occasional, outdated ornate street lamp to guide them.  Skurge seemed to know the way well enough, even without the light.  It was already past ten o’clock on Christmas eve, and after the flight, Thor could tell that what Bruce really wanted was somewhere to sit, or sleep, and ground himself.

As they approached the grounds of the palace, Bruce finally got his first proper view of Asgard.  The car drove through a pathway (or was it a bridge? Bruce found it difficult to tell in the contrasting light), almost half a mile long, that was lit up, illuminating the multi-coloured flora and fauna that bordered it.  Every colour Bruce could think of was on display; greens, purples, electric winter-bluebells and fiery golden ivy.

“You like it?”  Thor asked.

“Yeah.”  Bruce was at a loss for words.

“They call it the Bifrost, it’s the envy of every gardener the world over, or so I’m told.”

On arrival at the palace, two men and a women were standing at the gates to meet them.  Thor smiled as they approached, and stayed by Bruce’s side as they left the car and made their way up the palace’s stairs to meet them, not wanting him to feel like he was alone in this.

“Thor, my son.”  The woman embraced him, and Thor felt a kind of warm safety he only associated with the happier parts of his childhood.  “It’s good to see you so happy.  How was your journey?”

“It went smoothly, the weather has been good.  Mother, I’d like you to meet Doctor Bruce Banner.  Bruce, this is my mum, Queen Frigga.”

Bruce awkwardly bowed.  Frigga laughed, but it was a kind laugh, not mocking.  She took Bruce’s hand in hers.

“It is good to meet you, Doctor, I hear you make my son very happy.  May I call you Bruce?”  He nodded his response. “You can call me Frigga, if you like.  This is one of our best advisers and friends, Heimdall, and beside him is my other son, Prince Loki.”

Heimdall looked deep at Bruce with his golden eyes, and Thor prayed his friend wouldn’t say something that would intimidate Banner.

“It is an honour to have a Nobel Winner in our presence, Doctor Banner,” Heimdall said.  Bruce fiddled with his tie.

“You, er, know about that?”

Heimdall nodded.

“I’ve seen it.”

Loki rolled his eyes.

“You mean you’ve googled him,” Loki corrected.  “Like my mother says, I’m Loki.  I expect you’ve heard quite a few horror stories about me.” Thor nodded on Bruce’s behalf knowing he’d be too polite to answer.  “They’re all true.”

They made their way into the palace, and Thor made excuses for them both, citing their long journey as a reason to go to bed so early.  He thought that Bruce might be a little overwhelmed if he had to meet Hela and Odin on top of everyone new today.

“Don’t worry about Loki,” Thor said as he led the way to their room.  “He may threaten you put I can always put a stop to anything before it gets out of hand.”

“I think I get it now.”

“Get what?”

“Get why you wanted to annoy Loki so much that you did -“ he gestured between them “- All of this.”

Thor nodded in agreement, but in truth he’d forgotten that Loki had been the reason for this in the first place.  He opened the door to their room, holding it open for Bruce.

“Wow,” Bruce said as he took in all the ornate decoration and furniture.  “You weren’t kidding when your said that Asgard was covered in gold.”

“I hope it’s not too much for you.  I’ve never gotten the impression that it was one of your favourite colours.”

“No, I like gold, it’s like your hair.”

Plonking himself down on the bed, Thor grinned back at Banner.

“And does my lovely partner spend much time thinking about the colour of my hair?”

“Don’t go there.”  Bruce sat on the other side of the bed.  “I need to lie down.”

“Bruce Banner, going to bed at a reasonable hour?” Thor said in half-feigned shock.  “I really must be a positive influence.”

It didn’t take long for either of them to get to sleep, the day’s travels catching up with them.

#Hope you like! Merry Christmas!! #Thorbruce #thor #bruce banner #thunderscience #gammahammer #christmas fluff #long post #loki #heimdall #my fic #sorry for all the tags

[theliterateape]

Hope Idiotic | Part V

By David Himmel

 Hope Idiotic is a serialized novel. Catch each new part every week on Monday and Thursday.

LOU HIT THE SAN FRANCISCO CITY LIMITS JUST AS NIGHT WAS COMING DOWN. He used the hostel book as promised to find a well-rated spot with a good view of the city. He’d never stayed in hostels before and was curious. He’d hoped to meet a few strangers he could make friends with for the night and explore the city with, but the place was pretty empty. It was too early in the summer for college students or Europeans to be backpacking their way through the country.

Lou was sent to a room with four bunk beds. Two bunks — top and bottom — were occupied with sleeping bags, clothes and shredded bags of potato chips. Lou claimed the top bunk closest to the door. He tossed his stuff onto the mattress and quickly returned to the front desk.

“Where’s the best place to go for a few drinks?” he asked the grimy grunge-brat wearing flannel and a Sonic Youth T-shirt. “Maybe a place with good live music.”  He was directed to a place called, Shattered Glass. He was able to walk there from the hostel, which sat at the top of a hill and owned a perfect view of the Golden Gate Bridge. Like every other place he had encountered in California so far, this bar was mostly empty. On the small stage at the back end of the joint, a weathered man, who looked like he may have been part of the West Coast punk movement in the 1970s, played a banged-up acoustic guitar and sang cover songs of everything from Iggy Pop to Lisa Loeb. Miller Lites were six bucks a bottle, but hell, that was San Francisco.

Lou tried to engage the bartender in some friendly conversation about the town, where to go, what to do and where the hell everyone was that night. But the bartender, a bored, sad-looking man of about thirty-five, wanted nothing to do with it. And after six bottles of beer and an hour of the aged, never-was rockstar, Lou paid his thirty-six-dollar tab and took off.

He wandered the streets searching for a little action, but found nothing worth getting into. So, he headed back up the hill to the hostel, where he figured he’d tuck himself in and wake up early. Get a head start on the day. Grab breakfast. Visit the bridge then continue north into Oregon.

When he left the hostel, he remembered leaving his room’s door open just as he’d found it. When he returned, it was closed. He put his ear to the door to inspect any potential sounds. When he didn’t hear anything, he slowly turned the handle and opened the door. It was pitch black in the windowless room. He pulled out his cell phone as he closed the door behind him. He flipped the phone open to light the few steps to his bunk. He climbed up and carefully took his shoes and socks off, then slid into his sleeping bag. Lou had a near-perfect internal clock and rarely used an alarm. As he closed his eyes, he said in a whisper, “Wake up at seven a.m. Wake up in seven hours.”

Just as he began to fall asleep, he was startled by noises coming from within the room. He hadn’t scanned the place with the light of his phone before going to bed; he had just assumed he was alone. The noises were coming from one of the bunks that earlier he’d seen loaded with someone’s belongings. His cell phone was resting on his chest, and for a moment, he considered flipping it open and seeing who or what was in the room with him.

Now he was going to bear witness to alien robot sex and perhaps become a post-coitus sacrifice. Fuck Michelle. Fuck hostels. Fuck robots. Fuck San Francisco.

There were rustling sounds and what he thought were voices being muffled by blankets and pillows. He heard music being played. Not songs: more like ring tones from a cell phone or video game soundtracks from a handheld game system. The bunk squeaked in rhythm as it tapped the cement wall. He looked over and saw blue and green and red lights glowing, flickering intermittently from under blankets. It was like robots having sex.

 Lou was scared. This sort of thing would never happen under the parking lot light of a hotel. Why did he make that promise to Michelle to stay in hostels? Why did he keep that promise? He had a perfectly workable system when on the road, and she fucked it all up with her law school arguments and girlfriend charm. Now he was going to bear witness to alien robot sex and perhaps become a post-coitus sacrifice. Fuck Michelle. Fuck hostels. Fuck robots. Fuck San Francisco.

He debated making an escape, but figured he couldn’t collect his stuff fast enough in the dark without disturbing the alien robots that would probably kill him. So he slouched down farther into his sleeping bag, pulled his pillow tightly over his head and the opening of the bag around the pillow so he was entirely encased and protected, like a caterpillar in a cocoon. He forced himself to think about anything else: Chicago; Michelle; his career in twenty years; Chuck; his house in Las Vegas; the family dog Max greeting him at his dad’s house; Crater Lake; the price of gas; his pending empty bank account; his résumé; where he would live… More and more, he was less afraid of the increasingly loud and strange sounds coming from the adjacent bunk, and starting to fear what was waiting for him outside of that dark hostel room.

Panic finally put him to sleep. And when his eyes popped open at 7 a.m., he was still stuffed down in his sleeping bag and drenched in sweat. Slowly, he peeked his head out of the bag, but couldn’t see a thing because even during the morning, the room allowed no light to come in. He didn’t hear anything, so he flipped his phone open and aimed it across the room. It didn’t illuminate much, but from what he could see, the coast was clear. He swung his legs over the edge of the bunk and hopped down. He reached the light switch and turned it on, ready for the alien robots to spring to life and attack him. But he was alone. No one, nothing, was in the room with him. The things he had seen on the bunks when he checked in were gone. Other than his own stuff and the beds, the room was bare.

He wondered if he had imagined the noises and lights. Was the anxiety of the move playing tricks with his brain? Was he going crazy, or were there really alien robots having sex a few feet from him last night? It didn’t matter. It was over. The day was anew.

He put on some fresh clothes, brushed his teeth in the communal bathroom, paid his bill and took off toward the Golden Gate Bridge. It was early and traffic was light. It was just Lou and a European couple on the pedestrian part of the bridge. He could tell they were European by the formfitting brightly colored jeans and vinyl windbreakers that looked like they were stolen off the set of a 1980s Wham! video. The air was cool and salty. There wasn’t much fog like expected, so he was able to grab a few good photos of the bridge and some grainy, but mostly decent, shots of the Alcatraz rock. The majesty of the Golden Gate Bridge was one thing. But what really grabbed his attention were the emergency telephone boxes secured to the bridge every couple of yards. They had signs above them that read:

CRISIS COUNSELING THERE IS HOPE MAKE THE CALL THE CONSEQUENCES OF JUMPING OFF THIS BRIDGE ARE FATAL AND TRAGIC.

He looked over the railing into the San Francisco Bay. He knew how it worked. A sad, troubled life. A moment of uncertainty — then certainty. A little leap. This was America’s hot spot for suicide aficionados. It was either the impact with the water or the greedy undertow of the bay that would kill a person. Lou wondered for a second what part would kill him. If it wasn’t the fall, could he survive? He was a strong swimmer. It was a rhetorical question; actually killing himself was not on his mind.

Still, he wondered about those emergency phones and about the operators on the other end of them. How many lives were saved by the telephone? How many operators heard last words? He considered picking one up and telling the operator that he would kill himself unless someone in Chicago would have a job waiting for him when he arrived in two weeks. But then he figured that probably wouldn’t work. No one would want to hire a demanding suicidal maniac.

He used his cell phone to call Michelle from the bridge. He hated the idea of bothering her at work, but she assured him that a phone call from him was never a bother but a blessing.

“Michelle Kaminski’s office,” her secretary said.

“May I please speak with Ms. Kaminski,” Lou asked.

“Ms. Kaminski is in a meeting at the moment. May I take a message for her?”

“Thank you. Please tell her that Lou Bergman called. She has my number.”

“Will she know what this is in reference to?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll have her return your call at her earliest convenience, Mr. Bergman. Have a wonderful day.”

He meandered along the bridge for a few more minutes until Michelle called back. “You called?” She did not sound happy.

“Hi, baby. That was a quick meeting.”

“It was three hours long — just finished.”

“Brutal. Guess where I am?”

“I don’t know… Moon Lake or wherever.”

“Moon Lake? You mean, Crater Lake. No. I’m standing on the Golden Gate Bridge. God, Michelle, you should see it. It’s beautiful.”

“I’d love to be there with you. But I have a job to do. I’d love to be able to take two weeks off to do whatever I wanted and go wherever I wanted, but I have responsibilities. People depend on me. I have billable hour quotas I need to hit. But you go ahead and enjoy the view from the bridge, Lou.”

“Whoa. I’m sorry that upset you. You sound busy. I’ll let you go.”

“I am busy, Lou. I’m always busy. This is my job. I think you need to hurry home.”

“I know, baby. I’m on my way to you. Just 12 more days. It’s nothing.”

“I mean it. This road trip, I get it. I know you like driving all over with no direction, like its your last hurrah or something, but you need to consider me, Lou.”

“I have direction. I know exactly where I’m going.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about me slipping away. You’re losing me.”

“What?”

“I know you’re moving here to finally start your life, but mine has been happening, and you can’t expect me to just wait around for you to show up whenever you please. It’s not fair to me. I love you, Lou. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But I can’t promise you I’ll be here when you finally show up. I hope I’ll still be waiting for you, but I don’t know. I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

What the hell just happened? She’s raving like a madwoman, he thought. He’d been through this with her before, however. In moments of personal stress, Michelle had a tendency to overreact and lash out at anyone within striking distance. There was one week during her freshman year in high school when her best friend Jen was too busy to hang out with her. As retaliation, during a soccer practice warm-up exercise, Michelle kicked a ball has hard as she possibly could at Jen, hitting her square in the gut, knocking her on her feet and forcing the air right out of her lungs. Jen had a soccer-ball–sized bruise for several days and was benched for that weekend’s game because of the injury.

When Michelle told this story in her maid-of-honor speech at Jen’s wedding, she didn’t understand why no one laughed at it. “Because it’s just mean,” Lou told her. But Michelle disagreed and stood by her case that Jen had it coming and that it was a funny story. Besides, they were still friends after all, she argued.

Maybe Michelle was freaking out on him because she’d just emerged from a painful three-hour meeting. She was just stressed at work and jealous that he was out having fun. Envy. That’s what it was. He wasn’t losing her. She was just kicking the soccer ball in his gut.

 ✶

HE DROVE INTO TOWN AND FOUND A PLACE TO GRAB A BAGEL AND COFFEE, and read one of the scummy alternative papers in the wire basket by the door. As he was biting into the bagel, he received a text from Michelle:

I’m sorry I barked at u. But hurry. I won’t wait forevr. Stop wasting ur life.

“I really don’t have time for this right now, Lou,” Michelle said when he again called her. He couldn’t let a text like that go without further explanation. Clearly, she was not just lashing out. She was giving him an ultimatum: Stop having fun or she was leaving.

“You’re not being fair,” he told her.

“No. You’re not being fair to me or your career. You know what the right thing to do is. So do it.”

He drove a little farther north but pulled into a gas station just before leaving the San Francisco limits. While the car fueled up, he called Chuck.

“She’s right. What am I doing out here? I’m wasting all of this money that I don’t really have, when I could be in Chicago looking for a job. And now what? Now she’s going to break up with me when I get there? All broke and unemployed but with some photos of the town where Hemingway shot himself? What the fuck am I doing?”

Chuck was at the hospital in Indiana where his mother was recovering from her second heart surgery. “First of all, calm down. Just breathe,” he told Lou. “She’s not going to break up with you. You’ll find a job. Just relax.”

“I can’t! I’m telling you, I’ve got a bad feeling about all of this. I’m freaking out. I swear there were robots fucking in my room last night. I gotta get to Chicago. I gotta get my life going. I know! I’ll call a shipping company, have them pick up my car from this gas station. I’ll call Southwest and get a plane ticket, and I can be home by tonight.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” Chuck said. “Now, shut up and listen to me. You’ll end up spending more money on shipping and flying than you will driving. If it’ll keep you from going insane, cancel the adventure. You can try it again another time. I’ll do it with you. So calm down, drive back into the city and find I-80. It starts there. Just take that straight across into Chicago. You’ll be there in three days.”

✶

WHEN LOU PULLED UP TO MICHELLE’S HIGH-RISE on Lake Shore Drive, he was covered in a layer of highway dust, beef jerky crumbs and sweat. His breath reeked of Red Bull, dehydrated meat and a tired piece of chewing gum. His hair was oily, but he thought it looked pretty good for having spent the last seven days windblown in the driver’s seat of his Volkswagen. If only it could look that good after a shower.

As he looked at himself in the rearview mirror, he closed his eyes and sighed. He told himself out loud, “All right, asshole. Don’t fuck anything up.”

When Michelle answered the door of her pricey northside one-bedroom apartment and saw Lou standing there, her face exploded into a smile. She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside, where she kissed him long and perfectly. Then she drew all the blinds down on the large windows that presented a picturesque Chicago — the peaks of downtown buildings, Belmont Harbor and Lake Michigan’s expanse out east, and the garden rooftops of Wrigleyville to the west. Again, their mouths met, and they fell into a rabidly intense lovemaking session.

“Welcome home,” Michelle said once she caught her breath, both of their naked bodies sweaty and shaking with pleasure.

“I can get used to this,” he said.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV 

#Hope Idiotic #Chicago Fiction #Las Vegas Fiction #Fiction #Novel #David Himmel Fiction #David Himmel Author #Bildungsroman #Dark Humor

[millies-theme]

Lucy looks so dumb here and I love it  Also, because I know it’s been a while since I posted digimon, a short summary: Mini’s (the little blue on in the back) pack is leaving, and Lucy is staying here. There’s no telling if they’ll ever meet again.

"But we'll meet again someday, right?" Mini asked, blinking rapidly as she tried not to cry. Her pack was leaving tomorrow, early in the morning. This was the last day for goodbyes, and the last chance to play with Lucy. "I sure hope so. I don't know what I'd do if I thought I'd never get to see you again..." Lucy was not trying to hold her tears back. Her eyes were red from crying, and if she wasn't crying she was holding onto Mini for dear life. "Hey, don't think about that. I'm glad I got to know you as my friend, and I know I'll come back here someday." "Maybe I don't know exactly when that'll be, or if that will be, but we can hope." Mini thought. "Well hey; why don't we go explore the plains for a bit? That was the one place we never got to." Lucy asked, easing up on the death grip she had on her friend. Mini nodded. "One last epic adventure." She smiled. With one quick detour to tell Seasar where they were, the two of them headed to the Tamagotchi Plains. It was the once place they had never gotten to in their adventures, being on the near opposite end of the forest. In addition to that, it led up to the Gate; While it was rare, on occasion a digimon made it through from another zone, and they weren't always nice. Seasar was letting them go today, on the condition that they did not go any where near the bridge and Gate. The two promised, and set off. The Tamagotchi Plains were enourmous. As far as the two could see, it was just an endless ocean of grass, dotted with the occasional small tree. But up close, down in the grass... Teeny tiny digimon were milling through the grass. There had to be thousands of them, all running around, grabbing food and moving leaf blades to make bridges. Unlike all the digimon the two of them had seen in their lives, these all had six legs, and blades on their mouths. They didn't pay any attention to the two watching them, other than scattering once or twice when seeing their shadows. "Do they even see us?" Mini whispered, leaning closer. "I don't think they do." "You'd think they'd look up once in a while." "Think there's someone up in the clouds watching us?" "PFFT, no. I think we'd notice that!" "I dunno. But these guys are pretty oblivious." "Yeah, just like you kids." Lucy and Mini jolted, scrambling up. Behind them was a lanky, purply-grey digimon - almost the same purple as a Minumon, Lucy thought. "Uh.... I gueesss...?" Mini said, taking a step back. "I've been standing here for like, two minutes." The new digimon smiled, revealing a mouthful of teeth. Lucy snuck a glance at Mini, and then looked back at this new gal. There were some similarities - the purple shade, the shape of her head, and her raptor-ish body - but she didn't look like any of the juvenile Minumarmons in Mini's pack. "You kids are gonna get yourself killed, being out here by yourselves. Where are your parents?" She asked. Her concern felt... fake. "...they're just over there." Lucy said, pointing into the forest. "Oh? I was just over there a little bit ago, and there wasn't anyone there." The digimon took a step forward, her smile turning sour "Which means I have a perfect opportunity..." She opened her mouth wide, leaning down, eyes narrowing to slits. "To take you out!" Lucy and Mini screamed as their attacker lunged at them, running off in different directions. "Sh-" Lucy tripped and rolled across the grass, swearing under her breath as she saw Mini narrowly avoid a swipe of claws. "Leave her alone!" Lucy yelled, scrabbling across the grass towards her friend. With a growl, she launched herself at their assailant, only managing a scratch on her tail. "Get away from her!" She shouted, trying again to grab the rogue digimon's tail. "Don't worry, you're next." The digimon huffed. Lucy, in a fit of anger, jumped forward and bit down just as she was lifting Mini up. "HEY!" "ooF!" Mini exhaled sharply as she hit the ground. "you little-" The bigger digimon turned around, rearing up over Lucy. "I was just going to knock you both out, but if you're going to behave like this, I may as well get the data..." Lucy stood defiantly, trying and failing to keep her legs from shaking. "No one hurts my friend." She spat, growling as her teeth chattered. The enemy raised a clawed hand up, up, up - And yelped as a golden blur slammed into her. "PAPA!" Lucy yelled after the shock had worn off. Seasarmon had their assailant by the neck, and was flailing her side to side. Her screams were getting louder, and angrier by the second, until Seasarmon flung her to the side, away from Mini and Lucy. "RUN!" The bigger digimon yelled, rushing to where he had tossed his foe. By the time he had reached her, she was already up, and it was clear she was pissed. "YOU BROKE MY CLAW! You're gonna pay for that...." She snarled, snapping her jaw together. "And you attacked my daughter and her friend. You'll be lucky if that's all that happens to you." Seasar growled, showing his teeth in response to her threat. "Look at the little puppy! He thinks he can defeat me, aww. C'mere!" The digimon lunged forward again, a purple blur against the blue background. Seasar yelped as claws slashed his eye; He lashed out, but his claws caught nothing. "Lucy, I told you two to run!" He roared, whipping around to lash out again. "But papa!" "JUST DO IT!" Lucy hesitated; If she left, Papa could be killed. If she didn't leave, she could be killed. Mini didn't. Mini ran over to her friend, clutching her paw to her chest, and grabbed Lucy's hand. "We have to go!" "But-" "Now!" Mini made a mad dash towards the forest; Seasar was strong, and there was no chance he could loose. That digimon was maybe, maybe an adult, but more likely between the two stages. Seasar WAS an adult, and a very strong one at that. "AH!" Mini skidded to a halt as a scarred paw stepped out of the woods. Lucy yelped a bad word, and back pedaled. Now this was a digimon Seasar probably couldn't defeat. He had one blind eye, and a swath of scars across his blue face - A clear indication that he was strong, only digimon with large stores of data could've healed from an injury like that. He said nothing, and merely surveyed the scene. After a moment, he looked down at Lucy., eyes narrowing. "OTHER WAY!" Lucy yelled, grabbing Mini by the tail and roughly hauling her across the grass in a vain hope to out pace the Garurumon. Neither of them were fast enough. With a single bound, the Garurumon had crossed the grass, and grabbed Lucy by the nape of her neck. Lucy, in a fit of panic, clung onto Mini, who screamed. "HE- ARH" Lucy craned her neck around as much as she could, and instantly regretted it. Her papa was on the ground, not moving. He wasn't moving. Why wasn't he moving? Lucy flailed harder; The Garurumon flicked his head, a signal for her to stop. Angry, she flailed harder, yelling and kicking her feet. Surely, surely, someone would hear her? Someone out there would come to help? The Garurumon sharply turned, heading back out onto the grass. His pace picked up, and Lucy hauled Mini up to get a better hold on her. Lucy expected him to turn towards her father's killer - but he didn't. He was heading towards the Gate. Lucy's eyes went wide as he sped up even more. "HEY, THEY'RE MINE!" The Garurumon ignored the digimon behind them. "No no noNONONONONO" Lucy paddled her feet in a ridiculous attempt to stop their breakneck speed. She turned her head towards the Tamagotchi plains. One last look at the green grass, the blue skies - and Papa's fading body. Everything went black.

#oc #digimon #digimon oc #seasarmon #lineless art

[bubblepunk99s]

. Chapter four: The house of Five Waters

Lying before them was a bridge that branched across the canal. Curved like an arched back, the bridge was constructed of dark blue stone, permeated by lines of dully shimmering gold. The most eye-catching aspect of the construct, however, where the gates on either side. Two squat towers of the same blue stone marked the corners of either end of the bridge, upon which were engraved two serpents with golden scales that wrapped around them. Listening, both girls could hear the whirr of unseen wires and technology emitting from it, like the snoring of a sleeping beast.

"Urgh." Tia groaned. "Just looking at this thing is giving me the aches."

"You get the aches 'cause you keep your Baran on at full blast 24/7."

"I aim to live gracefully. You saying this thing doesn't give you any pain?"

Amara shrugged, but as they moved towards the bridge she couldn't deny the feeling of gnawing apprehension this construct gave her. She could taste its power in the air as a sharp metallic tang on her lips and a crackling sensation on her skin. The space between the two block-towers was bizarre to look at, as if a veil of malformed glass had been strung up there. Staring at it for too long before had made her eyes smart all day, so Amara made a point of not looking.

"Alright, let's get this done with." Tia said. With that she made for the right tower while Amara positioned herself in front of the left one. In unison, the two held their bare wrists upwards until they were level with the serpents on their respective sides. Instantly, there was a faint click and a beam of light shot out from the serpents' eyes, onto the girls' exposed skin. Amara winced slightly as the light made contact, but the serpents' check-up was done in a few seconds. They snapped back into their stationary states, while the veil between the two towers began to change. Much like Amara's mirror back home, it started coruscating until it settled as a smooth sliver-like surface, obscuring the bridge behind it.

"Dammit." Tia said as she strode to Amara, glaring at her wrist. "Got burnt again."

"Probably didn't hit the whole of your chip. I keep telling you that you need to hold your arm higher." Amara chided.

"Whatever." Tia grumbled. "I still think this system is a joke."

"Oh, look on the bright side. It's the fun part now."

At that Tia gave Amara a sly grin. "You seem keen. I'm guessing you don't want to hold hands anymore."

"That was once, Tia. It was required on our first day-" Amara began but was stopped when Tia held out her hand.

"Relax. I remember." She assured. "But it is our big day, so I figure we should enter in style."

Amara rolled her eyes but still slipped her hand into Tia's. "Live gracefully?" She said.  

Tia winked. "Always"

The two girls walked through the veil.

They did not go through gracefully.

First, both girls experienced a sudden destabilizing shock- similar to falling in in cold water while having your armpits electrocuted. They had both been expecting this so it bothered them little. What did surprise them was what happened next. Before either of them could take their next step, a sudden tugging sensation yanked them violently to their left, like a kite being pulled by a sudden gust. Within an instant, Amara and Tia were off their feet and speeding through a tunnel of pulsing light. Amara could feel her body shake and throb with blinding energy that stabbed through every fiber of her being. Just when she thought her head couldn't take it anymore, the rushing pull came to an abrupt stop. For a second, they floated in air. Then both girls tumbled to the floor. As they did, Amara noticed that her body bounced ever so slightly off the ground before settling. They had arrived. But what had all that been about?

"Gah" Groaned Tia who was lying next to her. Pulling herself up, she brushed her braid back behind her shoulder and gave Amara a gentle shake. "You OK?" She asked.

By way of response, Amara gave quick thumbs up. Her throat felt weirdly narrow, as if it was somehow parched with thirst. Still nothing seemed broken, so as far as she was concerned she had come out on top. Getting up, the girls began to take stock of their surroundings. They appeared to be in some form of room, with a domed black ceiling that still managed to emit light somehow. The floor beneath them mirrored the roof by being smooth to the touch and constructed of cool metal. There appeared to be no door, but there was a hole located straight in front of them. And beside it was a man.

The man seemed to be in his middle-ages with a neatly trimmed beard, the sharp edges of which nicely complimented the geometric patterns on the sides of his tunic. Said tunic was a navy-blue color interwoven with threads of gold that shimmered in and out of sight as he moved, much like the stone of the bridge-entrance. A light blue cape was draped over one shoulder with a border pattern of black diagonal lines, indicating his rank and status: archivist with a record of one tenure. He held in his hand a small electronic writing tile and appeared to be ticking something on it with a silvery pen.

"You two." He said. His tone was authoritative, but his Baran- which was wobbling between different frequencies- betrayed a certain uncertainty to him. It was clear to Amara that he wasn't used to the role he had been assigned.

"You two." He began again, more forcefully now. "Come. The ceremony is barely a minute away."

"Ceremony?" Tia asked incredulously, while Amara felt her stomach drop faster than a convict at the gallows.

The archivist narrowed his eyes. "You are initiates in the scribal arts, correct?"

Before Tia could respond, Amara stepped in. "We are just that, sir." She said. "Both of us were just slightly confused about how events would proceed." Just to be safe, Amara also reduced her Baran to a faint hum allowing the archivist's to be heard more clearly. Tia followed her example. This simple move was a classic act of respect, indicating deference to one's superiors. It clearly had its desired effect, as the man's own Baran steadied to a heartbeat-like pace.

"Not to worry." The archivist said, eyes glued to his tile which he appeared to be ticking. "Just seat yourself and we'll commence."

He then snapped his fingers. Instantly, a portion of the floor in front of him opened and a small coracle came up, right in front of the hole. Inside were two grooved seats. The archivist had stopped talking, his work apparently done. Tia, however, took the hint and lead Amara into the small boat. Once settled, the girls looked for some means of propulsion- be it a paddle or an engine- but found precisely nothing.

"Excuse me-" Amara started, but before she could finish her request the archivist (his eyes still trained on his tile) gave the coracle a sharp shove with his foot, booting it through the hole. The girls yelped as their vessel fell down before landing with a splash in what appeared to be water. They heard a door slam shut above them and were then placed in near-total darkness.

"Tikan!" Yelled Tia back accompanied by a violent spike in her Baran that Amara was sure would give the archivist above an ache in the brain. Tikan referred to a type of endoparasite worm that was common in sick labor beasts that frequented the void-ports of the city. If Tia was willing to bust out her biological knowledge Amara knew she must be pissed. Though her own feelings made Tia's anger seem far, far away despite her sitting right next to her. That word went back and forth in her head like the tolling of a bell. Ceremony. How could she have forgotten? Had her mind been so fixated on the finish line that she lost sight of the first hurdle?

Amara thought back to the coin she had flipped into the river. She had done so as a good luck charm; a little trick to secure fortune for the day or so her mother had told her. But looking ahead, it seemed that a little circle of metal resting on the bottom of a canal wasn't going to do much good in the face of what was coming.

"Hey Amara" Tia's voice reached through Amara's hurricane of stressed thoughts and grabbed her attention in the gloomy dark. "Sorry for blanking out back there. Your save was much appreciated."

"Thanks." Amara said back. "I take it you've remembered the ceremony now."

Tia groaned. "Yeah. How many do you reckon-"

She was cut short when the darkness they were in was broken by sudden bursts of light. The floor beneath the water was suddenly illuminated with a ghostly blue glow as pockets of light began to shine, gradually growing in intensity like shining flowers opening to a hidden sun. Their radiance was mirrored in the lines of blue light that could now be seen on the ceiling, trailing and criss-crossing over one another like the trail of some ghostly snail. Their coracle then began to move. slowly but surely it edged forwards, despite their seemingly being no force propelling. Instead it felt like they were being pulled, gently yet ceaselessly down the softly shining channel.

"It's begun." Amara observed, feeling the sudden blue light covering the tunnel wasn't proof enough that weirdness was afoot. Turning to Tia, she asked "You all prepared?"

Tia gave an awkward smile and said. "Think as much as I can be. It's just a matter of keeping our Barans on a leash, right?"

The coracle was gaining speed now, as they turned a corner and began to gradually flow downwards. "That's true but there's more to it than that. We're going to have to merge with all the others. Ever done that before?"

"I think you know the answer to that question." Tia said irritably as they sped down a slope of water.

Amara sighed, but she couldn't say she had much experience either. She had been so fixated on what manner of text they would be assigned that she had almost completely failed to remember the assembly; the opening ceremony wherein all the scribal initiates would be grouped together. As one, they would raise their Barans to the ceiling, hiding nothing from those who would be examining them. Their superiors would then place the girls in groups of four based on how well their Barans complimented each other. And it was in these groups that the initiates would analyze the text given to them.

As the pair began to pick up speed, Amara heard noises in the darkness. The sounds of whispering was coming in through the walls around them, underscored by the faint but unmistakable noise of Barans contrasting and playing against one another.

With a sharp swerve to the right, the girls rounded a corner. Up ahead was an exit with light streaming out of it. Closer and closer it got. Amara inhaled deeply and looked Tia deep in the eye.

"Get ready." She whispered as the two passed through the door way and into the light.

Almost immediately Amara was overwhelmed.

Before she could take stock of her surroundings, her brain nearly cracked open like one of her father's eggs. A wave of Barans came crashing down upon the shore of her mind. Drowning her. Crushing her. She came close to blacking out until Tia grabbed her hand and squeezed tight, digging her nails into Amara's flesh. The shock was enough to jerk Amara back into reality. Breathing in, she looked up and properly saw her environment. High black walls stretched upwards, though illumination came from the glowing surface beneath the water and a solitary skylight located far above in the ceiling, the shine from which was beaming down directly on to the dead center of the room. Converging on to this point were waterways streaming from every corner of the room. And floating on these streams were the initiates.

There was about four on each path. Glancing back, Amara could see three more pairs trailing down the waterway they were currently on. They were all wearing the same dark red uniform marking their status as initiates and all of them seemed to be as stunned as Amara had been. Their faces darting back and forth, quicker than buzzing flies, trying to take in the enormity of this new space. Amara felt a pang of sympathy for a young girl who was sitting hunched in her coracle, shivering under the sheer volume of Barans swarming around her, while her partner rubbed her back in an attempt to calm her. She considered reaching out to help, but was distracted by the Tia tugging at her side. Glancing ahead, Amara could see that in the point where the streams converged was a massive pool where the coracles were starting to fall into and group together.

Amara tried to steady her breathing as the pair of them sloshed down into the pool. She had managed to grow accustomed to the amount of Barans in the hall and could even feel her own again. She gave Tia's hand a gentle squeeze, who smiled faintly back. It was clear their entrance had been draining on her too.

Eventually, all 16 pairs had flowed into the central space. Once the last pair entered, a mechanical whine suddenly emitted from the coracles. In an instant, each boat stuck to the side of the one directly next to it until all of them were joined in one big metal net. Around her, Amara could see her fellow initiates glancing around, whispering to each other though some simply tried to recover from the Baran onslaught they had just experienced. A few seconds passed. Then their attention was drawn by a deep, solid creak emitting from the end of the hall. Craning their necks, they could see that the wall there had begun to open. Beams of prismatic light shot out from behind and Amara could catch the mummering and footsteps of what seemed like several people going about their business. Then three figures slipped through the entrance, closed the door and made their way to the assembled students.

They arrived and took places around the pool. With just a glance, Amara could tell that these three were higher up in the academy's strata than anyone she had come across before in her three years of studying. The man standing in front of her had a deep crimson tunic, heavy gold bands encircling his wrists and a face as hard as quarry stone. His eyes were sharp and black, never fixed on one place for long as they swept over the assembled initiates. From the intensity of his gaze, Amara almost felt like the assessing ceremony had already began and she was being shoved under the spotlight.

"Gathered initiates." Said one of the other figures standing above the pool. Turning her head, Amara was pleased to see her teacher- Miss Amaharan- who had instructed her and Tia both for the past three years. Her wrinkled face looked so warm in the falling light, her eyes calm and still as they surveyed her students from over a slightly curved nose.

"Gathered initiates." She repeated. "First and foremost, I would thank you for your prompt and dignified arrival. Efficiency is our priority here."

Amara listened intently, though she chose to edit the 'dignified' part of Amaharan's sentence considering her and Tia's entrance into the academy had involved them literally falling flat on their faces.

"Secondly" Amaharan continued. "Cherish that appraisal. Chances are you won't be experiencing easy thanks like that for some time. True praise is hard-won in the House of Five Waters- and all the more meaningful as a result."

She gave a slight chuckle. The man in red, however, frowned and gave an impatient jerk of the head in Amaharan's direction. Taking the hint, she sighed and assumed a more upright position.

"As you are aware, you will now be expected to raise and intermix your Barans." Amaharan said. "You needn't have anything to fear, though. Our examiner has you under all her protection."

She gestured to the third person to have come in, standing to her left. This was a young woman, brown skinned with a bob of black hair. She didn't say anything, but Amara noticed the corners of her mouth twitch, revealing small scars on each side.

Sounding disappointed for some reason, Amaharan continued. "We begin in one minute. Please prepare yourself."

She stepped down from the platform. Immediately, whispering began among the initiates, everyone bracing themselves for the test. Amara simply closed her eyes and steadied her breathing. She'd burnt through the majority of her worrying. All she cared about now was getting it over with. Still, Amara opened one eye just to check on how Tia was doing. She had her eyes fixed forward, but on feeling Amara's gaze, she gave a weak smile. As the final seconds ticked away, she mouthed something to Amara- though she couldn't make out what it was.

Amaharan's voice echoed in the dark hall.  

"You may begin."

In an instant, all of Amara's filters dropped.

Her Baran-which had been suppressed fiercely ever since stepping out her door-expanded to its full form. As it did, Amara felt her consciousness get tugged out of her body, flowing with her now free mental field. Soon she was lost in the noise and color of the rapidly building storm of energy that was now filling the hall. Countless sounds swirled in her mind. She flitted between droning hums, calming sighs, fluctuating whistles, more and more with each passing second, slamming and combining with each other in the cacophony. Then came the visions. One second, she was walking through a room, bare feet bouncing off a floor warmed by the steps of many others , the odor of scented wood filling her nostrils. But before she could settle into this scene, she found herself in another. Now she was standing in the docks watching as a bow shaped ship lifted off the ground and headed toward the sky, which opened up to receive it, revealing inky blackness beyond...

On and on it went, more and more visions piling on top of one another. More than she could count, more than she could process, streaming through her mind. Who even was 'she'? Was she the girl surrounded by the books? The one sitting in prayer? With each passing second, she was drifting further and further apart, losing any sense of individuality in the swarm of histories, color, sound and...

ENOUGH

After what felt like hours of floating aimlessly about, Amara was jolted back into her body with the force of a fly suddenly dying in the middle of hovering. She blinked and looked around blearily, her flesh feeling like a strait jacket after the anarchic freedom of the Baran vortex. Several of the initiates were groaning and slumping in their coracles, clearly experiencing the same backlash that Amara was going through. Tia herself was swaying from side to side, mumbling something about ships coming into port. Amara considered giving her a gentle shake but held back, figuring that even the slightest nudge might push her befuddled friend into the water.

Glancing upwards, Amara could see the scar-mouthed examiner looking down on them like a hawk. Her eyes briefly met with Amara's and in an instant the young girl knew who had brought her back to reality. The examiner had the darkest eyes of anyone that Amara had ever seen. One look was enough for her to immediately quit staring and turn her attention back to Miss Amaharan.

"Excellent display, initiates." The teacher said, quickly glancing side to side to make sure none of her pupils had passed out. "Your hard work has borne fruit. For the time being, however, you can rest."

She held her wrist up and typed a sequence on to the bracelet there. The doors at the hall's far end opened, letting in a stream of honey-colored light.

"15 minutes break in recuperation chambers" Amaharan continued. "Then you will be informed of the results."

At that, there was an ecstasy of fumbling as the initiates picked themselves from the coracles and stumbled out of the pool. Amara leant the still groggy Tia a hand as they made their way to the door. As they passed, Amara felt a tightness in her throat and knew that the examiner was still staring at her.

The nest few minutes were a blur. The group was lead down a well-lit hallway, a welcome change from the darkness of the gathering point they had left. If she had been herself, Amara would have probably taken note of the inscriptions on the walls. Or the patterning on the floor they walked on. Or the fact that they were probably going through the catacombs of the house of the Five Waters. But none of that registered. Her mind was still reeling from the Baran storm. With every step she took Amara worried if she was going to wind up stepping into someone else's memories again.

Eventually, the group took a turn to what appeared to be a dead end. Naturally, the wall shifted and dissolved, leaving an oblong gateway to another room with long benches and cushions waiting. The group flowed in, with Amara making a beeline for a particularly big cushion squashed into the far corner. The other initiates huddled together, whispering about their ordeal, making predictions and speculations. Amara made no attempt to join in. Her capacity for meaningful social interaction had fizzled to zero over the last half hour. All she wanted now was to re-charge before being swamped in more faces and voices.

As the minutes passed, Amara noticed that the walls were emitting a soft pulsing green light. She smiled to herself, knowing the choice of lighting was done to help calm down the initiates after their demanding experience. Still, she thought, the only thing that'll reassure me is finding out who I'm working with.

Glancing around didn't fill her with much excitement. Everyone in the room was about her age, for sure, but most had already bunched off into groups of their own. Amara felt a pang of dissatisfaction but quickly pushed it aside. She hoped the people she was sharing the room with got a match-up that suited them. Right now, the only person she knew was...

"Right behind you." Tia said. Turning back, Amara could see her friend standing behind her, a bleary smile plastered on her face.

"Well, that was..." Tia continued blinking hard. "That." Amara shuffled to the side and let Tia flump down on to the cushion with her.

"You reckon I did a good show?" Tia asked.

"You were the ship going through the void port."

"yeah"

"You'll be fine. That wasn't embarrassing or anything was it?"

"Oh alright." Tia said. She sighed, apparently satisfied with her lot. Amara wondered what she had seen, what the others had seen. A Baran was the sum total of a person's experiences; in combining them together each initiate had allowed their peers a glimpse into who they were. Nothing much. Just an image seen through a keyhole. But enough to go on.

"Enough to start making assumptions. Making Judgements." Amara winced, as her doubts made themselves known again. She pushed them aside best she could, fidgeting with a loose curl of hair as she stared at the softly pulsating walls - trying to lose herself the way she had lost herself back in the entrance hall.  

Her daze was interrupted by the sound of the entrance opening again. Stepping through was the red-robed man. His eyes were black as ever, though they weren't intensely gazing like before. Instead the seemed unfocused, as if his mind was someplace else. Drawing himself up to his full height, he said.

"Thank you for your patience." Amara was surprised at how melodious his voice was, considering the roughness of his face. "Our results have been tallied. You may come through."

He then turned without a second word, leaving an open wall behind him. Not wanting to stew in her worry any longer, Amara shot up and headed after him, Tia trailing alongside.

"Would it kill him to wait?" Tia asked as they turned down the hallway.

"All part of the new emphasis on self-sufficiency, I guess." Amara replied.

Tia snorted "I don't care how much they pound into my head, I'm never finding my way around here."

Amara chuckled, but she could see her point. Now her mind had been sharpened by anticipation, their surroundings seemed much more vibrant. The walls appeared to shimmer somehow- rippling under the light above like fish scales. Every so often, the shape of a doorway in either wall would suddenly flit into Amara's line of vision only to flit out again, in an instant. She didn't even realize she had walked through an arch until a whole new room seemed to blossom right in front of her.

This space was much airier than the darkened hall. Light flited in through rectangular windows, becoming prismatic as it went through the glass. Scholars came down stair cases in the four corners of the room, the light from the windows dancing on the muted colours of their robes. At the far end of the room was a fountain, comprised of five interlocking dragon heads that intertwined and rose as one single point like some bizarre flower. Seated around this fountain was Miss Amaharan and the red-robed man- both of them locked in what appeared to be an intense conversation.

Determined to get this over with Amara strode down the room, vaguely aware that she had actually become the leader of their little troupe. Noticing them, Amaharan immediately dipped out of her conversation and resumed her warm smile. Getting up, she raised her hands in a celebratory manner and began to speak.

"Initiates! What a performance from you all. But enough anticipation, let's see the fruits of your labours!"

She snapped her fingers. Immediately the flow of water coming from the dragon heads ceased. There was a pause, followed by a faint rumble of hidden machinery. Then five beams of light shot up from the heads, projecting several tables on to the wall, in which were displayed the names of the initiates, four to a cube.  

Instantly Amara's eyes began darting over each box of names. She was going so fast that the writing seemed to be just lines punctuated by the occasional circle. Slowing herself down, she forced herself to take in one table at a time. Eventually she found it; on the furthest set to the left. Her name directly on top- one circle flanked by two diagonal lines. And beneath that...

Amara sunk into her relief like a hot bath, the release of tension so great that even Tia's excited nudges felt like they were happening to someone else. Underneath her name was Tia's- two vertical lines followed by a horizontal and a diagonal. Amara quickly glanced at the other two underneath, but realized she didn't know them. Didn't bother her much. Just having one person she knew along with her for this job was enough to make her hope she had a chance. Or at least someone to catch her should she fail.

"Alright" Miss Amaharan said, apparently content with the level and duration of her students' chattering. "Now you understand who you're working with, may I ask you to kindly follow our inspector up the stairs. She shall escort you to your respective workspace."

The inspector- who had somehow appeared at the foot of the stairs in the far left of the room- gave a sharp jerk of her head, imploring the initiates to follow her lead. Amara and Tia began walking, but were stopped by a Baran very deliberately brushing against their minds.

Turning around, they could see miss Amaharan standing, an affectionate half-smile playing on her aged features.

"Sorry if I was a bit rough. Age makes handling one's baran quite strenuous." She explained. She then grimaced slightly and sat down on the fountain's side.

"Oh, look at me." Amaharan continued. "I'm your teacher. I should be doing more than just stating the obvious."

In response, Amara gave a polite chuckle, doing her best to ignore the growing drum-beat of concern pounding in the back of her head.

"I imagine that comes with the territory." Tia said, causing Amara's drumbeat of panic to evolve into a full-grown marching band at the prospect of her best friend pissing off one of the few adults in this entire academy whom she was sure was looking out for her.

Thankfully, miss Amaharan's response was a happy little cackle and a nod of approval. "That and more besides!" She exclaimed. "Speaking of which..."

She reached inside her robe and pulled out two pieces of paper. On them was the sigil of the house of the five waters- a circle separated by two diagonal lines and another running down the middle.

"Hold out your arms please." She said to both girls. They did so as Amaharan placed both pieces of paper on to their forearms. Instantly they began to smoke and Amara had to suppress a yelp as the sigils on them appeared to burn on to her skin before disappearing completely.

"Just a minor upgrade." Amaharan explained to Amara and Tia, who was tentatively prodding the space where the sigil had been with a concerned expression on her face. "The other students will receive it when they get to their workplaces. You can access the academy in its entirety now."

She gestured the pair to look around their surroundings, which they promptly did. The change was remarkable. Doorways she had half-glimpsed now stood clear as day. Every colour seemed crisper, every line more defined. Yet despite the dramatic increase in focus, Amara noticed that if her eyes stayed too long on one surface she began to see through it. Glancing down, she glimpsed corridors snaking through boxed-off rooms in the level beneath the floor.

"Disorientating, I know." Amaharan noted, looking down with Amara. "But you'll get used to it soon enough. Plus, keep looking long enough and you'll find some interesting ways around."

She pointed to a space nestled near the north-east stairway. After a moment's staring, Amara glimpsed another doorway wedged there- flickering in and out of her vision like a candle flame.

"Go through that door, follow the path, first door you come across will lead you to your workspace." Amaharan said brusquely. She then gave one more look to the two pupils.

"Good luck" She wished. With that the elderly teacher did a small jump backwards. Instead of landing back on the floor, she sunk right through it, as if the stone was no more substantial than water.

Tia and Amara stood there for a second, trying to process fully what they had seen. Realizing that they were standing around when they should be getting along, Amara decided to break the silence.

"Well I guess she wasn't kidding when she was talking about those interesting ways around." She joked.

"Yeah..." Tia replied uncertainly, eyes darting across the floor. She felt Amara staring so quickly looked up with a smile. "Lead the way."

Amara did, stepping forward to the flickering doorway. Turning around she noticed Tia hopping on exactly the same spots she had walked on. Rolling her eyes, Amara pushed forward through the door and stepped right through.