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banshee1013 · 5 years

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How To Train Your Hunter(s)

Well, here it is, finally - the continuation to the Looking Glass series, in which I and my friends formulate a plan to convince the Winchesters to allow us to help them defeat God and save their world.

This one ended up being a BEAST, so I’ve split it into three parts. This is Part The First.

Enjoy!

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"OK, ladies… this is it. Are you ready?"

Speaking directly into my computer's microphone, to the Discord voice channel set up for this purpose.

Things this complex require voice communication, and being scattered over the country (and South Africa for Mags), long-distance charges would have been a nightmare.

Thank the stars for Discord.

A nervous titter from Cori over the channel.

"I think I'm ready… I'm so excited I can barely breathe!"

Mags: "I was born ready…"

Ella: "As ready as I'm gonna be…"

I felt a flutter of nerves in my gut, a moment of doubt. Not in my friends - I knew they were ready - but in me.

Could I keep them safe?

And just how quickly - or worse, slowly - will Dean kill me for this?

*******************************************************************************************

I hadn't told anyone else about the Looking Glass - not until I had, with Sam and Cas' help, performed many more experiments.

Bringing something other than myself through - weapons (my sword, a machete) and even one of my cats - CHECK. This was good news - it meant I could defend myself over there, and other living things could pass through as well.

Bringing something from the "Mirror Universe" or MU as I jokingly referred to it (shoutout to my Star Trek nerd roots) - other weapons (returned before Dean noticed), a stray cat hanging around the Bunker (using gloves as to not shock the poor thing). CHECK (although I now have another feline mouth to feed…).

Jack will be pleased. This was Step One toward the Disneyland trip.

I still zapped everyone I touched over there - well, by *everyone* I mean Sam, Dean, Jack, and Cas because I obviously hadn't interacted with anyone else - how do you explain to a stranger you're from another universe? But as suspected, the effect didn't happen at home. The Grace was dormant here.

And then, like a dummy - I slipped.

Mags was the one that caught it - an innocent comment between Dean and me regarding a pool game - how he cheated by distracting me (he may be like a brother to me, but still - DISTRACTING when he focuses his efforts on it). Thankfully pulling me into a DM rather than confronting me in public, she pried at me. I tried to play it off as one of our usual GIF games, but she was having none of it.

So I came clean. And of course, I then had to explain it - impossible over text alone.

That's when I set up the Discord channel and turned on the voice feature. Once I explained the process, Mags was completely on-board with going over herself.

"You know they need our help. They're fighting GOD, for Go… for shit's sake."

"Mags, we have NO training. Have you *ever* used a machete?”

"No, but I can learn," she asserted. "You learned how to fight with a sword, didn't you?"

Well, she had me there.

"OK. Let me do some… creative questioning of Sam. Come up with a training plan or whatever."

"That sounds reasonable," she agreed, followed by a pregnant pause. "But we have to get Cori and Ella in on this action. Remember 'Dean's Angels'?"

I groaned, eyes trailing skyward. "That was a joke!"

"Was it though?" she countered, the mirth plain in her voice, before sobering. "C'mon. The more, the merrier, right? Besides, they would be so pissed if we went without them."

She had a point. And training for two could easily be expanded into training for four.

I invited Cori and Ella to the Discord channel and caught them up.

To no one's surprise, they were gung-ho on the idea.

****************************************

The following Saturday, I paid a visit to the Bunker and surreptitiously questioned Sam on the nature of decapitating vampires and other monsters.

He probably would have thought I was nuts if he hadn't been distracted by his research trying to find Donatello.

Finding Donatello was important to me as well, so I limited the questioning to times when I could coerce Sam into taking a break, tempting him with sandwiches and smoothies.

I sat at the kitchen table across from Sam during one of these breaks as he sampled the smoothie, sliding the plate with the sandwich across to him.

"So y'know, I was wondering - how much pressure would you say you have to exert to chop off a vamp's head?"

Sam paused mid-slurp and gave me a puzzled look. "Uh, I dunno, really - I never stopped to think about it…"

"Well, would you say it's more like - chopping through a cabbage, or chopping through a pumpkin?"

Ever the intellectual, he seriously contemplated the question. "I would say at least a pumpkin, a big one." Picking up the sandwich, he took a bite and considered the question more while chewing. Swallowing, he added, "But really, probably more like a ham. A good, 15lb bone-in ham."

"Did someone say 'ham'?" Dean inquired, on a break from the Star Wars marathon in the Dean Cave with Jack, popping into the kitchen to fetch another beer and a soda for Jack.

The next day, I brought through a 15lb ham and cooked it up for dinner - one of two I had purchased.

Theirs was to distract them from yesterday's discussion - and because Dean looked so crestfallen when no ham was on offer. They had ham sandwiches, and ham and cheese omelets, and ham and potatoes au gratin for a good week after.

The other, of course, was for me to chop with a machete.

After trying it and finding it suitably difficult, I recommended the idea to the others.

***************************************

We studied fight techniques.

I filmed my sword training classes for the "classical" techniques - entering the fight, counters to attacks, and grappling.

Cori found some excellent videos on actual machete fighting.

And we all studied every Monster of the Week episode of The Show, breaking down Sam, Dean, and Cas' knife-fighting skills and techniques. Ella became a master at the ‘Angel Blade Flip', using a Bowie knife borrowed from a friend.

We all ended up eating a lot of ham, and when we got sick of it, the local shelters reaped the benefit.

We were always sure to carefully clean our blades before and after every training session, both for the protection of the blade and to keep the ham clean enough for eating, and would lay down fresh tarp to catch the falling pieces.

If anyone at the shelters wondered about the nature of the donations - thick, somewhat uneven slices of bone-in ham - it was never voiced out loud.

Gift horses (pigs?), I suppose.

**************************************

We also studied basic first aid and field medicine.

Mags worked at a hospital and became our go-to for all things medical. She was able to convince one of the ER docs and several of his patients to allow her to film suturing and wound treatment. "Research for a book" she claimed, promising credit and mentions in said book.

Yeah, she'll write that. Some day.

The ham suffered more abuse as we gashed into them to practice sewing them back up with dental floss.

Unscented. I didn't want to find out if the mint stuff burned on contact.

Cori gathered the necessary items and packaged small medical kits for us.

*************************************

"We're almost ready, ladies," I said to the others in the Discord voice channel.

We had been training for a couple of months, and sliced many hams.

We felt ready for the next step.

"Just gotta find the right case for us."

"So I assume Plan A was a bust, then?" Mags sighed.

"Yeah, well we kinda knew it would be, didn't we?" I said, resigned.

'Plan A' was to film our training and present it to Sam and Dean as proof of our prowess and ability to protect ourselves, in order to gain their trust and allow us to accompany them on a hunt.

I didn't tell the girls this - but I never had high confidence in Plan A. Sam could possibly be reasoned with, but Dean?

Not with that mile-wide protective streak of his.

So I worked on 'Plan B' - finding a vamp nest for us to tackle on our own.

To do so, I would go through the Looking Glass to past hunt locations in the MU.

I figured a done deed would be far more convincing of our abilities than videos of murdered ham.

For research, I once again turned to the 'tale of the tape' - The Show.

One of the "benefits" (for lack of a better word) of Chuck's little Greatest Hits Tour - reviewing the Show, and following the boy's hunts on Twitter, I had a decent idea of all their cases from the past and which of those past cases had been resurrected and already dealt with. With this knowledge, I believed I could find something suitable.

I knew, however, that scouting locations was a not going to be an easy task. Remember that Grace? It was a beacon to Cas and Jack every time I set foot in the MU.

So, I took Jack into my confidence. Sorta.

I didn't tell him the exact reason *why* I needed him to ignore my visits and keep Cas from noticing. I told him I was working on a surprise for Sam, Dean, and Cas, and asked for his help.

It wasn't *really* a lie.

This would certainly be a surprise.

For the first experiment, I picked a place well-documented on The Show but with no known monster visitations - Donna's cabin.

I researched the location, gathering information on temperature, sounds, and smells. Google Earth was my friend.

I paused the scene to study the cabin and surrounding area, memorizing visual cues. Studied the ground cover to determine what it would feel like as I stepped on it.

I wasn't planning on being there long - just long enough to verify I was in the right place.

I figured I wouldn't be there long enough for Jack or Cas to detect my presence through the Grace, so I didn't tell him.

I stood in front of the doorway of my spare bedroom and focused.

Closing my eyes, I envisioned every detail. Every sight, sound, feeling.

I stepped through the doorway - and my feet crunched on the leaves scattered on the ground outside what definitely appeared to be Donna's cabin.

My time was limited so I confirmed the location in the quickest way possible - I searched for, and found, the garden gnome with the key hidden underneath, exactly as she had described in the episode.

I couldn't stop the giddy feeling bubbling up in my chest.

Step 1 of Plan B was a success.

************************************

Over the next week, I watched every vampire episode, looking for one small enough for us to handle but big enough to be, well, impressive. Challenging.

I considered Alex's old nest - but there were only three of them. Mags could probably wipe out the nest all by herself.

I thought about Benny's old nest - but didn't want to run the risk of running into Benny. Chuck would be asshole enough to bring him back if just to torment Dean.

I went all the way back to the first season and found what could be the perfect case - Luther's nest, the first case the boys worked after the return of their father, John. The nest only consisted of about 10 vampires - just over two each. Doable.

That is, if Chuck had returned them. I had to perform some reconnaissance to see.

To do this, I needed to be there much longer than I was at Donna's cabin.

I was going to need Jack's help for this one.

I opened Twitter and a DM to Jack.

*************************************

@redbanshee: Hey Jack, are you there?

@IAmCalledJack: Hello! Were you at Donna's cabin last week? I thought I felt Castiel's Grace there but he was right here in the Bunker with me.

Oh shit. I guess even the few minutes I was there was enough to trigger the alarm…

@redbanshee: Uh, yeah… part of the surprise for Sam, Dean, and Cas - I needed something from her cabin.

@redbanshee: Did, uh, Cas notice?

@IAmCalledJack: Yes, but he figured he must be mistaken because it only appeared for a few minutes.

Whew… dodged that bullet. I wouldn't get that lucky this time, though.

@redbanshee: So, Jack, I need to go somewhere else today to get something else for their surprise - do you think you could distract Cas or something so he doesn't notice? I really don't want to spoil the surprise…

@IAmCalledJack: Yes, I am happy to help. I can actually block him from noticing you're here.

@redbanshee: Oh, that's very helpful! Thank you!

@redbanshee: I should be less than an hour, can you block him for that long?

@IAmCalledJack: Yes, I believe so.

@IAmCalledJack: Are you sure you'll be safe? You're not going anywhere dangerous, are you?

@redbanshee: No, of course not! Perfectly mundane. :)

@IAmCalledJack: OK :) But you'll pray to me if you get into trouble?

@redbanshee: Of course I will, sweetie. But I promise, I'll be just fine.

I closed the DM and tried not to feel awful about it.

**************************************

I stepped through the doorway into a copse of trees overlooking the barn housing Luther's nest.

Or at least what I hoped was still - again - their nest.

It was late afternoon San Diego time, but just sliding into dusk in Colorado. Unlike what the myths would have you believe, vampires are capable of moving about in the day - it's just painful for them, so they don't unless they have to. I'll have a much better chance of seeing them after the sun goes down.

Taking out a pair of binoculars, I scanned the grounds. Nothing yet, so I waited.

I didn't have to wait long. In the gathering gloom of dusk, the barn door opened and three figures emerged. A dim glow from inside the barn backlit several more inside, including a couple still asleep in hammocks.

It was fairly obvious the nest had returned.

I felt the grin spreading across my face. We had our case.

But I had to be sure.

I followed the three figures to a small bar about a mile down the road from the barn.

Followed them inside and picked a table in a dark corner to observe.

Watched as one, a female, singled out a loner sitting at the bar, sidled up to him to whisper in his ear.

Watched as he flushed, a tentative tongue flicking to lick lips gone suddenly dry.

Watched as the eyes glazed over, and followed her as she led him out the back door of the bar.

I knew the hour I told Jack was almost up - I needed to get back in case he couldn’t block Cas for longer than that.

But I needed to *know* if these were really vampires. Could be just a commune, or a bunch of grifters.

I needed to make sure.

I waited a few minutes, took a deep breath, then followed them out the back door.

And got there just in time to see the vamp drop the mark to the ground, drained. She turned toward me and hissed, blood dripping from ruby lips.

I froze, shocked and sickened.

Then jumped as a growling voice echoed from behind me.

"Looking for something?"

My breath stopped in my throat. I had no weapons.

I. HAD. NO. WEAPONS.

I closed my eyes and forced down the panic. Turned to face the voice behind me.

"Uh, nope. Just came out for some air, y'know… I'll just be getting back inside, my friend is waiting for me… "

Steps echoing in the alley behind me as the female vampire approached, blocking that exit.

I sidestepped to move around him and dash for the back door of the bar, but he stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

He smiled a toothy grin.

A second set of very pointy teeth descended over the first.

OK, then. No more proof necessary.

Now I just had to live long enough to bring the girls back and handle it.

"Sorry, sis. Your friend is just gonna have to wait…" he smirked, reaching for me with lightning speed and grasping my arms just above the elbow.

On the bare skin just below the edge of my t-shirt sleeves.

A blue-white flash of static discharge flared from the touch and sent the vampire sprawling.

I leaped over him and headed for the back door at a dead run.

Envisioning carpet under my feet, the hue of the overhead LED lights…

I plunged through the back doorway of the bar, and yelped as I stumbled and fell face-first… onto the carpet in my spare bedroom.

I flipped and scrambled backward away from the doorway of the bedroom, waiting…

Wondering if something would follow me back through.

Scrambled until my back slammed against the wall, and I pulled my knees to my chest, breaths coming in wheezing gasps.

The doorway remained empty.

I was safe.

And I had found our case.

*******************************************************************************************

"OK ladies, let's go over the plan one more time…"

I could hear the groans from the others over the Discord voice channel.

I didn't care.

I would go over this plan again and again, if necessary - until *I* was sure we were prepared and it would go off without a hitch.

I would not… COULD NOT… put my friends in unnecessary jeopardy.

Dean is gonna kill me for this, anyway… and I'm ok with that as long as everyone else gets home safely.

"FINE," Cori grumbled. "We step through the mirror and meet outside the bar…"

" I'll pass around the dead man's blood and bullets…" Mags added.

Working in a hospital has other advantages besides providing our medical training.

Mags was able to sneak into the morgue and grab several syringes worth of dead man’s blood, enough for two each.

She also painted several clips of bullets with it.

Neither would kill the vamps but would sure as shit slow them down.

"I've got the medical kits." Cori chimed in.

"I have the burner phones." I confirmed.

I had picked these up during my previous visit since our phones won't have service in the MU.

"And then weapons check…," Ella added eagerly. The metallic clink and soft chime of silver meeting silver rings over the channel. Playing with her silver daggers again.

"But bring your machete," I cautioned. "Those are sweet daggers and you're amazing with them, but silver doesn't affect vamps."

"Maybe not, but will sure slow them down!" Ella chuckled gleefully.

I sighed. The girl was gonna be the death of me.

"Oh, and you all have something to carry this stuff in?" I asked.

This had been a source of discussion for many days. We needed something big enough to carry a twenty-inch machete, medical kit, and dead man's blood, but not big enough to attract attention from any civilians who happened to be in the bar.

We may be going to a world full of monsters, but if years of The Show had taught us anything, it was that most people there were oblivious and perfectly content to stay that way.

Eventually, we decided on backpacks to reinforce our cover as a group of hikers on a trek through the local woods. Ease of access was not a concern with our plan – we would simply arm up before storming the barn. And anyway, should the machetes be spotted or questioned - we needed them to hack through the underbrush.

A chorus of "Yep's" or variants thereof answered my question.

"So after that, we'll head into the bar," I continued. "It will be late afternoon, and with any luck, happy hour."

Because yes, this was a hunt.

But it was also a meet and greet.

And I didn't know about anyone else, but I knew I was gonna need a shot or two of whiskey to take the edge off.

"We'll wait there until dusk, then head to the barn."

"Uh… I have a question, Cee…" Cori spoke up hesitantly.

"Of course! What's up?"

"Why are we waiting until dusk?" she queried. "I mean, they usually sleep during the day, right? Wouldn't it be better to attack them then, when they're all asleep?"

She'd just hit on the heart of the matter.

"If this were a standard vamp hunt, then yes, you're absolutely correct." I took a deep breath, let it out slowly.

"But it's not. It's an audition."

"Audition?" Ella queried, puzzled.

"Yeah… for Dean." Mags huffed. "Plan A didn't convince him, so Plan B has to."

"Yeah," I sighed. "So here's the play. We head to the barn at dusk and wait for the first hunting party to leave. We meet up with them before they get to wherever they're going, and put an end to them. That does three things - gives us a win, provides positive proof we know what we're doing, and cuts down on the number of vamps we'll all have to take care of later."

"All?" Cori asked. "Sam and Dean will be there?"

"Not when we start. We handle the first group on our own." I paused, the nerves starting to creep up.

This was the dicey part.

"Then I call them and… invite them to join."

Silence on the line. I pushed on.

"So, remember that Grace Cas gave me? It's like a beacon - he always knows when I'm over there because he can sense the piece of his Grace that isn't with him."

"So how have you been able to get all this information you've given us - the pictures and descriptions so we can get there through the Looking Glass?" Cori questioned.

I hesitated. I still harbored feelings of guilt over using Jack as an accomplice.

Dean is going to have my head for that as well.

But would my friends?

"Jack helped me. He kept Cas from noticing I was here."

"You used *Jack*?" Mags exclaimed.

"Oh boy…" Ella breathed.

"Dean is going to KILL YOU!" Cori blurted.

I winced at the outburst, but I knew it was coming. Deservedly so.

But it was necessary.

"I didn't have much of a choice," I argued. "We all agreed we needed to help them, right? This is the only way we're going to convince them that we *can*."

I paused. Silence.

I continued. "Anyway, before we head over, I'm gonna text Jack and let him know I'm heading over. He'll block Cas until I give the signal. Then he'll grab Sam, Dean, and Cas, and teleport them to our location. Once they're there, they'll see we've successfully killed vamps by ourselves. Part 1 successful. Then we'll all go to the barn and wipe out the nest. Part 2 successful, positive impression made."

"What's the signal?" Cori inquired.

"Well, here's the tricky part," I sighed. "It's the one part we can't test beforehand."

"OK, and…" Mags prodded.

"I'm going to share the Grace with you…"

A burst of voices from the channel… "What??", "Ohmigod are you sure?", "Huh??"

"… this has two purposes!" I shouted over their protests. "First - remember the first time I crossed over and it knocked me out so bad I slept for a day and a half? Cas gave me the piece of his Grace to prevent that from happening. However, he gave me SO MUCH that everything that touches me over there gets a big jolt."

Oh, right.

I hadn't told them about the encounter I had in the bar… zapping the vamp when he grabbed me.

All I had told them was I found the nest and scoped out the bar. I didn't want to scare them about going there.

It would be pure daylight out - no way the vamps would venture out in that.

We'd be perfectly safe.

I rushed on. "So, when we're done with the first group… I'm gonna put my hand in and you're all gonna grab on, and I'm gonna pass some of this Grace on to you. I'm hoping this will do a few things - one, make it to where you won't be knocked out like I was when this is over. Two, it will decrease the amount of Grace in me, and I'll get to hug my boys again without having to be so damned careful!"

I stopped for a breath. No one spoke.

"Third - this will be Jack's signal to bring the A-Team. When he notices Cas' Grace split four ways, that's his cue."

Silence. Finally, Cori cleared her throat and asked, "What's the plan if you can't transfer the Grace?"

Another possibility I'd considered and scoped out when I went back for pictures.

Full-length mirror in the lady's room of the bar.

"Plan GTFO - Get The Fuck Out. We head back to the bar and you guys jump back through the mirror in the lady's room. It's gonna be painful for you guys after you return, and I'm sorry. If that happens, I'll talk to Cas, see what can be done for future visits."

"Well, you seem to have thought of everything…" Mags offered encouragingly.

"Jesus, I sure as hell hope so," I breathed. "So, everyone still in?"

I waited for what seemed like an eternity.

"HELL YES!"

"What are we waiting for?"

"Let's get this show on the road!"

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Part The Second Coming Very Soon!

#fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #jack kline #castiel #supernatural

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bubblesthemonsterartist · 5 years

Note

Cat in the Cradle: is the witch really going to give up that easily, having been thwarted once by Obi?

Prompts are currently closed while I catch up. I will announce when I am open! :)

A/N: An installment of Our Place in the Stars.Takes place after Nightmares.

Content Warning: This entire series has allusions to ahistory of sex work and involuntary servitude. This chapter is no different.

He wishes he took Miss’s orders to sleep a little lessseriously last night.

For now that his fast has been broken, with so few hoursto boot, he is delirious, disoriented, and dizzy. The motion of his hands andhis mind no longer work in perfect concert with the other, the distancebetween one place and the next is longer than his memory.

But the draught had done it’s duty, lulling him to slumber deeper than he had any right to.

(“Take this,” Miss says, pushing the steaming mug intonumb hands. The brew is black. Nothing good ever came from a medicine that wasbrewed to black. “It will help.”

Eyeing is dubiously, he takes a delicate sniff, thenrears back, nose traveling up his face to escape it. “Can I take it tomorrow?”

“Obi,” she huffs. “You haven’t slept through the night indays. This will help.”

He peers up at her from under the veil of his lashes, ather puffed up cheeks and her tiny body forming a barrier between him and thedoor. Then back down to the drink.

“I’m fine, Miss,” he smiles, every beautiful tooth baredas he holds the cup back towards her. “Our walk was very refreshing. I think Ican sleep just fine without it now.”

She crosses her arms, staring down at him.

Wilting, Obi cradles the mug against his chest. Takes in the potion again. Hecan already taste the bitter that hovers in the air, the particular mix ofherbs meant to numb his brain to something approaching quiet. It looks like ascrying mirror, it is so thick, like something a traveling nomad would brew to tell him that he would soon come into a fortune if he would part ways with just a little bit more gold.

A little twigthat the strainer didn’t catch floats about its depths.

Oh well. Nothing to be done about it. “Down the hatch,”he mutters, and tilts his head back to take it whole.

Ye gods, what is inthis? He only manages about half the draught before his tongue rebels, throatclosing against it, and then he’s coughing, liquid spraying as the mugdisappears from his hands. Swallowing, he bends over his knees, gasping betweeneach wrack of breath that escapes his body.

Miss is already sitting on the bed next to him. “See?”she tries, patting him on the back as he rubs the moisture from his eyes. “Itwasn’t that bad!”

If he could sit up straight, he tell her with his facewhat he thought. As it is, he has to find his words.

“Au contraire,” he wheezes, wiping off the liquid drippingfrom his chin with the back of his sleeve. “It’s worse.”)

But if his men notice, they don’t say anything. Makiricertainly doesn’t, instructing him in passing to oversee the security for the meetings.

So he does. Just… alone.

(“Are you sure, commander?” Jirou asked, leaning inclose. “I can send one of those idiots to take care of sweeping the meetinghalls.”

Obi thinks of Hiro, with his round, boyish face and hiswide smile. Of Kune, with his new wife and a baby on the way. Of Shinto, hissoft voice and brass laugh. Each and every one of them didn’t sleep for two nights in a row after he told them about his first days in Laxdo.

“I’m sure.” Obi claps his second on the shoulder, smilefirmly in place. “Though if I’m bewitched again, it’s your responsibility getme the best scratching post and only the finest collar.”

Jirou grunts, crossing his hulking arms in disapproval,but he says, “Would you like it to be belled or spiked?”)

It’s not a hard task, not in this city, where a glare ora pointed look is enough to send any busy bodies scrambling. After scatteringthe third anthropologist and the second historian from their hiding places, he thinks that the wingmight be close to ready.

Though, he muses, rounding the corner. He might have totake extra precautions from keeping that biologist from returning to her study spacethat shouldn’t have ever been a study place in the first place.

(“But it’s quiet here! And all the study rooms in thelibrary are taken. I’m working on my thesis,” the woman whines in a way that reminds him too much of Suzu,piling one paper on top of another so slowly that he might tear out his ownhair. “Are you sure I can’t stay? I’m only taking up a corner!”

Obi smiles through grit teeth. “Only if you desire to beturned into a mouse. There’s a Samese witch here, you know.”

Her lips press together in a thoughtful manner, the roundlenses of her glasses making her grey eyes enormous. “I always wondered howtransfiguration affected the body. If it existed, I mean,” she mulls, hands staying upon her task. “Doyou think it is even possible to make something the size of a human intosomething as small as a mouse? I imagine I would have to be turned intosomething of like size, maybe a wolf. There’s so many bones in the human body,though. Do you think they break to condense into a smaller form? Or fusetogether? I wonder if the internal organs mo-”

He really should have known not to give her that option.“Mistress Kazune,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Please leave. Now.”)

The room at the end of the hall is the last, and most obnoxious.The carved teak has been primed to shine, the glossy surface of the tablereflecting the centerpiece of evergreens. Circling, he runs his fingers underthe edge, ducking down to check the legs of each chair and each cushion, when asudden blast of cold air sends the curtains of the far wall billowing.

Skin prickling, Obi bristles, crossing over to close thebalcony door. For a city so northward, so obsessed with every burner going at all times,you would think they would only open themselves to the out-of-doors to thespring, but it is a constant battle to explain to his Miss’s maids that doorsand windows lock for a reason-

Clucking his tongue, Obi pushes aside the curtain,grabbing hold of the knob.

“Leave that open, if you will. The air is so stagnant in theserooms. It’s like no one ever uses them.”

Obi has not spoken Samese in years. Has not evenpracticed the syllables on his tongue. But, as Garrack and Shidan and everyscholar he’s ever met is so prone to pointing out, his memory is excellent.

Slowly, he cranes his head, looks over his shoulder. It’snot often that someone is able to sneak up on him, but if anyone were to, itwould have to be-

Them.

Between her two hulking guards, the red of her veils burnagainst gray stone. Her other guard, the giant dog who stands as high as themeeting table, sniffs at the floor. Eyes following, Obi hopes that it is not inspiredto take a piss. It would really be a hassle to put the maids through securityagain on such short notice just because of a little puddle.

“Thank you. It is… refreshing,” she says, hands claspingtogether. Then, with a twist of her head, her voice lowers. Carries authoritywhen she says to her companions, “Leave us.”

Back drawing up straight, Obi’s shoulders go so tightthat it is pain. And her guards don’t so much as answer as grunt, turningtowards the exit. Obi moves to follow.

“No, no.” Something in her voice trembles, sounds amused. “Not you.”

It’s nothing short of an order, though, and while he hasnot been- been that since he was aboy, his joints lock up, rooting him to place and staring helplessly as thedoors close behind the two behemoths. And he wishes, just once, that Miss washere. Or Jirou. Or even Makiri. That someone was present that would rescue him,too.

The touch of a wet nose to the back of his hand bringshim back to himself, eyes coming back to focus on two brown eyes and a lollingtongue staring up at him.

“And what about him?” he asks, voice as dry as a two daytrek across a desert.

The dog licks its great maw, tail giving two quickshakes, and then it- it licks at hishand. Like a connoisseur of flesh. Like it’s testing if he is going to need a little seasoning before enjoying a mid-day snack of escaped-slave a-la-mode.

“Her,” the witch corrects. “What’s wrong? Does the littlekitten not like the big dog?”

She laughs, pleased with herself and Obi’s jaw ticks asher pet nuzzles at him, sliding its nose underneath his palm.

“Come now, it’s a joke,” she tsks, patting her leg, andhis assailant is immediately called away. “I’m very funny.”

Subtly turning his hand towards his trousers, he rubs offthe lingering sensation. “As you say.”

She hums, floating towards him, and his heart gives threeloud bangs inside the cavern of his chest.

“Don’t.”

Obi pauses, blinking, and he- he takes stock of himself,tries to figure out what he has done, and-

His left hand flexes around steel, the tip of his pinkytouching leather behind his back. His heart still races, though, his mind stillscreaming danger! so he lets themlinger, lets them hold that reassuring cold of tempered metal still tucked awayin his belt.

“You,” she sighs, dipping her head to catch his eyes. Heturns them further away. “You’re one of ours, aren’t you?”

His lip curls, fingers wrapping around a hilt. “Never.”

Arms crossing, she straightens herself and he can feelthe weight of her glare like a physical touch. “No need to hiss, kitten. I knowyou belong to her.”

Blinking, Obi forgets himself, head snapping in herdirection, but she’s moving away, looking towards the window at the snowfallblanketing Lyrias.

“Still, though,” she comments, voice distant. “You are a brave little one, living so closeto the border. It would just take the wrong set of eyes and a greedy hand tocarry you back.”

A cold sheen of sweat spreads across his face, and it’snot like- not like he didn’t know that. Not like he didn’t weigh thepossibilities when he followed his Mistress from the safety of the south to theuncertainty of the north, but still- It’s been years since the wars. Yearssince someone has seen another with a face like his in these lands, and- “Noone here knows.”

“Kitten,” she looks her shoulder at him, and he’s madebreathless, the light striking through the material of her veils just so he cansee the white of her eyes. “Everyone knows.”

The cold sickly feeling spreads, eyes watering as ifpunched straight to the nose. “Then why? Why,” he swallows, words battling fordominance between the world he was born to and the world his mistress insistedwas reality. But, despite Miss’s insistence, her tempered demands that he believeher and not them, he can think of no better word. “Why enchant me?”

“Ah, that… embarrassment.” She sighs, rolling hershoulders. “That was not meant for you.”

Obi stares, lost, then whispers, “Then why her?”

She hums, and fabric ripples as she moves, as she comescloser. “She makes herself too small. Like you.”

He’s not expecting it, though he should. He’s far too outof practice, unable to stand still any longer as those above him take him into appraisal, holding hisjaw between forefinger and thumb, turning his head one way then the next,prying back lips to check teeth and pressing on the skin below his eyes tocheck for yellowing. So when her hand appears, still gloved in that thickfabric and so near to his face, he roots himself to the ground. And waits.

After several breaths, his eyes slowly flutter open – hehadn’t even known he closed them – and he- stares at her. At the way her handhovers between them.

“Your witch,” she says slowly, carefully. “She treats youright?”

Obi rears back. “My mistress,”he hisses, “is only kind. Even if I were to deserve-”

He cuts himself off, biting his tongue. But it’s toolate. He’s revealed too much. Stirred up too many memories of that day in theforest, of how she bowed to his failure, asked him to fail her again-

Her hand lowers. “And why would you deserve it?”

Brows furrowing, he blinks at her, trying to figure outwhat she’s about, why should would ask him to state the obvious. “I’m cursed.”

She tsks, breath strong enough to move her veil. “Nowthat’s some lie.”

He stares at her. “But- in Wati-”

“Wati.” Shespits out the name like it’s a blasphemy, drawing herself up while he shrinks.Even though she is no taller than Miss, he is like a boy before her. “Thatcountry of heretics? Why would you go to such a place?”

Gaping, he stumbles over his words, “It wasn’tintentional. I just crossed the steppes and-”

A noise, not unlike the grumble of an aggrieved camel,vibrates from beneath the veils. “What gives warmth to this world?” she clips.

It’s a struggle to remain standing, to not follow the urge to sit at her feet,to retain and recite like the schoolboy he used to watch through open windows in the summer, but that’s not what she wants. He doesn’t think so, atleast. Obi’s lips part and, for once in his life, he is unsure of whether tospeak.

Palms smacking together, she raises her voice. “I askedyou a question, kitten. What gives warmth to this world?”

His mind, the sure thing that it is, goes perfectlyblank. “The, ah, sun?”

“Yes!”

Obi jolts at her enthusiasm, the way she claps her glovedhands in praise instead of as a method for drawing his attention. And issomewhat shamed with that pleased little warmth that blooms in his chest.

“The sun gives light to this world,” she says, her voice softening.“Grows the plants that the animals eat. Melts the snow at the end of winter.And what color is this sun?”

“I- Uhm.”

“What color are your eyes, kitten?”

Swallowing, Obi shakes his head, backs a few steps awayand- and this can’t be happening. This has to be some sort of dream. Some sortof new nightmare. She can’t be serious.

“You have eyes like a leopard that are the color of thesun,” she says earnestly, closing the distance he creates. “Why would that becursed?”

His mouth parts to answer, so sure, so very sure that sheis wrong. That he is right. But he can’t. Not before a Red Witch, of all people.

“My- my Master. When I was a boy. He kept me hidden, toldme I would only do harm if I left his house.” Not that it stopped him fromtrying. The marks that etch up and down his calves are proof enough of that. “BeforeI- I left, he said I was damned. That’s why the temples wouldn’t have me.”

“Sit, boy.”

He stares at her, so lost, so disbelieving. “But-“

“I said sit.”

It’s been years since he was so easily beckoned, but hedoes what she wills, tumbling to the ground, legs barely crossed, and she- she joins him.

“Look at me.”

His eyes try to latch on to anything but the color ofred.

“Look.”

There is nothing else to latch onto, so he does.

“I feel warm just looking at you. Blessed,”she says, so simply. Like she isn’t tearing down and putting back together hisentire world. “Just like when I stand next to your witch. Though I am starting to see why the two ofyou found the other.”

His mind rebels. Screeches and spits. No matter what she said, he still has his memories. He knows the way people’s eyes fell from his when he looked upon him is the truth. The way the others scurried from his path is not a lie. It isn’t his imagination that remembers the whispers into ears and the exchange of coin - the goldthe same color, they said, as his eyes.

Whata lucky find, they murmur, touching his chin to tilt his head back. Hewill bring so much more of it.

“But my Master-”

“He lied to you,” she interrupts. And her words arefinal. Law. Touched with the heat of anger. “He was selfish. Kept you from oursight. All of them did.”

He shifts, uncomfortable, until the slippery slide of herglove touches his face and he jolts, staring straight into the veil.

“If we had known-” She clucks her tongue, thumb smoothingdown his cheek, and he’s been a man for years – years longer than he shouldhave been – but it takes every last bit of his will not to bow forward, to not buryhis face in her lap and let her soothe whatever hurt she could find. “If we hadknown, you would have been brought to the coven, been given a true Mistress.And oh, how we would have spoiled such a face as yours.”

His shakes, and- this room is cold, suddenly. So cold.“But I-”

“Hush,” she commands, a single finger to his mouth. “You would have beeneducated and dressed well, never knowing cold save when you went outside toplay. Been given a bed of your own alongside the other little boys blessed justlike you. And we would have protected you, little one. We would have made sureyou were safe.”

“I-” His voice chokes out and he shakes his head to clearit. “That sounds… nice.”

“It’s the will of the gods that we witches shelter you,”she says, so certain. Like she didn’t lay every single dream of his since he wastaken from his parents at his feet. “That a foreign one found you that is proofenough, hmm?”

To his everlasting horror, his eyes blur, leaking withouthis will, but he can’t look away. So he simply nods.

“So lucky,” shemurmurs, almost to herself as she runs her fingers through his hair. He’s followsthe touch, helpless. “That’s the reason your Master kept you like he did,child. He was trying to keep that luck for himself.”

He weak, so weak. And it’s that weakness that makes himask, “But how can I be lucky if I can’t-” Heat prickles his face, the beginningof a blush more mortifying than him purring like a housecat on his mistresseslap, but he pushes forward. “I can’t- be touched. Even by those that I want totouch me.”

The snort, he is not expecting. “Spirits,” she mutters, headtilting towards the ceiling and the boreholes of stones above them. “You sendme here to find an unimaginable treasure in this desolate place and it is ashorny as a young buck in the spring.”

His lips twitch, but then he flattens them, mustering upsomething like a glare that only makes her laugh more.

“Kitten,” she sighs, moving closer. “You don’t seem to becomplaining right now. Are you sure you can’t stand to be touched?”

He stares at her, uncomprehending, but then her handmoves again, carding through the bristles of his hair and he- his eyes pulsewide, mouth falling slack.

“All wounds can be healed, little one,” she cooes, thesilk of her gloves brushing his temples, smoothing down his neck.

He stares. “But-”

“Your woundscan be healed.”

Obi shakes his head, the whole world trembling beneathhim. “That’s not- it’s not-“

“That doesn’t mean they go away,” she whispers, takinghis hands between hers, thumbs rubbing along the lines of his knuckles. Across the memory of pain. “Woundsscar. Especially ones that have been left to fester. But that doesn’t mean theywill never close. You just have to stop picking at them.”

His mouth opens and shut, unsure of how to work. Unsurehow to pass the enormity of what he’s feeling, so he says, “You’re not going todrug me again, are you?”

All at once, she sags, the weight of her palm heavy inhis lap as she slaps the other to her forehead, but his chest- it feels lighter. He thinks he just made her laugh. Hehopes he did.

“That enchantment wasn’t meant for you,” she says, flat.“But the spirits work in mysterious ways.”

His lip twitches. “Is that a no or-”

If he could see her face now, he is certain he would haveearned himself a full glare. It’s a wonder that this knowledge doesn’t terrify him.That he finds himself breathing so easily when it would be nothing for her tostrike him down. “I don’t think either of us would survive that humiliationshould it happen again.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but then he remembers whatit had felt like, waking up on his mistress’s lap, how warm she had been, howsoft and giving, and the exact way that his heart had shattered with the simpleknowledge that he could not bear it.

“Unless you would like more gifts of catnip. I heard that it can be particularly daunting to keep the stockrooms in the pharmacy stocked in the winter. Really, your King should learn how to better manage his roads-“

Flushing, he bites back, “Point taken.”

Humming, she says, “Glad to know we’re on the same page, then.”

He eyes her, words carefully chosen. “It may be one ofthe few places that we are.”

Her hand clasps his, fingers wrapping the back of hishand and she squeezes. Hard. “Come early tonight. To the ritual. I will haveyour brothers show you what should have been yours.”

Before he can answer, he has a face full of dog, it’sgiant paws crawling up his thighs and great pink tongue lapping at his cheek sosuddenly he nearly topples over. It’s the shock of the door banging open thatkeeps him upright, that keeps him from scrambling away from the cumbersome thing,and he turns his head, wide eyed and shocked to find Lady Haki and Lord Makiri staringat him.

The great dumb creature, having done its duty ofembarrassing him further, leaves him, barking twice at the newcomers as ittrots up to the Arleon heirs.

“Ah,” the witch says, clapping her hands together. “Excellenttiming. I was just about to teach your young kitten here the secrets of uswitches. I’m glad you stopped me.”

“We are eager to continue the exchange.” Mistress Haki’sface is cool, composed, but he sees himself reflected in the tail of her gaze,the look she casts over him concerned. “When we heard you came early, it wasdecided that we need not wait.”

“Very good, very good,” The witch hums, a pleased noise,smacking her lap and levering herself up. “No need to waste any more precioustime.”

#bubbleswrites #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #obiyuki #brothel backstoy au #claudeng80

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