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isis-astarte-diana · 4 years

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Milk and Honey: Day 2

Day 1 ‖ Day 2 ‖ Day 3

Summary: “I don’t need your pity. I won’t stand here and be fussed over by some idiot human child.” Wounds healing and ego bruised, Missy self-sabotages. You pick up the pieces the only way you know how.

Warnings: Possible bit of self-harming/OCD behaviour (obsessive cleaning and fingernail trauma, nothing too heavy). Missy does not handle vulnerability well and she gets nasty, but then she’s such a soft troubled baby that we all collectively pretend that it’s not problematic. Unhealthy relationship dynamics and angst. MIHOW.

Word Count: 3615

NB: Oops! It’s angst. Mostly hurt, bit of comfort. Stay tuned and hopefully the fluff will be back soon!

You wake up warm.

The bedside light is still on, its amber glow shaming the thin autumn sunlight that streams grey from the window. When you reach over to switch it off, something drags you back.

Missy has her arm flung across your stomach.

Beneath the duvet, her hand presses just above your navel. You can feel the weight of it when you breathe. Her fingers are splayed across your pyjama top, gripping the fabric tightly.

You stop dead still, half upright. Inexplicable panic floods your chest. "Missy?" You whisper into the pillow, hardly daring to turn your head and look at her.

"Hmm?"

For a single bloodcurdling moment, you think she must have woken; but then she hums again, squirming closer, her nose brushing the back of your neck. Any relief at realising that she’s still sleeping is lost when her arm tightens around your waist.

You think of staying there. With all of your free time spent travelling in the TARDIS, you can’t remember the last time you were held like this. She’s soft and warm behind you, her breath stirring the fine hairs at the nape of your neck, sending goosebumps prickling across the sensitive skin there. It would be so easy to wait for just a few minutes. Half an hour, maybe.

She would never do this on purpose.

The disgust hits you so hard that you flinch. To lie here, taking advantage of her unconscious embrace, enjoying the sweet comfort of an arm around you and peaceful breathing behind you - what would it make you? What would she think if she knew?

You tear yourself away too forcefully, fuelled by the self-loathing that burns in your throat. Missy groans softly in her sleep but doesn’t stir, burying her face in the pillow where your head had been resting. You tuck the duvet back around her, pointedly not looking at the inch of milk-pale skin on her side where the shirt she wears has ridden up.

She looks better already. The angry graze on her cheek is fading, and the long, deep cut down the side of her face is healed and red with new skin. You wonder how long it will take for them to disappear completely.

It’s clear that the sleep is working how she’d hoped, so you leave her there. The clock on the bedside table reads 9:47. Gathering your things, you head for the shower. As you close the bedroom door, she opens her eyes blearily and mumbles your name. You don’t hear it.

+++++

“How’s the patient?”

The Doctor leans against the kitchen counter, watching you make tea. His hands are thrust into his jacket pockets and there’s a careful aloofness to his voice that does very little to disguise his obvious concern.

“Fine.” It sounds clipped. “She ate. She slept. Still sleeping, last time I checked.” You glance at the time on the microwave; it’s after twelve. “For quite a while now.”

“That’s good.” He reaches past you, snatching a biscuit from the tin and biting it in half. He speaks through the crumbs. “We heal better when we’re asleep. Sometimes go into a coma for a few days, wake up ravenous and fully recovered.”

“She mentioned that.” You take both cups into the living room and he follows, carrying the biscuit tin, going back for another. The bag of Missy’s things is sitting in your space on the sofa and you move it to the floor. It’s a floral, Victorian-looking carpet bag, not particularly large but, you’re assured, bigger on the inside and full of everything she’ll need.

“So what else did you talk about?” He props his feet on the coffee table and you scowl. Looking suitably chagrined, he takes them down.

“Nothing, really." Taking a seat beside him, you feel oddly embarrassed, as if the prior evening’s events were a delicate secret that might wither under his scrutiny. “We watched some telly, and then we were both pretty tired so we went to bed.”

You can feel his eyes on you as you reach for your tea, and your face burns under them. Mercifully he doesn’t ask about the sleeping arrangements. “She didn’t try to kill you, then.”

“Not even once.”

“I was tempted.” Your head darts up at the sound of Missy’s voice in the doorway. She looks more like herself, her face the familiar mask of malicious indifference, the wounds there having healed even further since you woke this morning. The pink skin on her cheek is bisected by a blurry streak of red. She’s taken the braid out of her hair, leaving it to tumble in loose waves about her shoulders. “No tea for me, I take it.”

“You were sleeping.” The Doctor looks her up and down. “Nice pyjamas, by the way.”

“Aren’t they?” She gives a performative little twirl. She’s moving more easily than she did yesterday, coming to a halt with only the faintest wince. “I might move away from purple after all.”

“I brought the things you asked for. Well, most of them.” He gestures to the valise and she snatches it up, fixing him with a suspicious look.

“Most of them?” Her voice is thin.

“I’m not convinced that whalebone is suitable for a stab wound.”

“I’m not convinced that I asked your opinion.” She tears the bag open, reaching into its impossible depths, staring at the contents. “My shoes?”

“Ah, well,” he rubs the back of his neck, leaning forwards. “I didn’t think you’d be going anywhere just yet.”

“My sonic?” She spits it out through gritted teeth.

“The sonic stays on the TARDIS. I’m sorry.” He sounds anything but apologetic. “I can’t have you using it without my supervision.”

“No,” she mutters. “No, of course not.” She closes it slowly, snapping the fastenings with a flourish of her fingers. “Well, if there’s nothing else, Doctor-”

“Actually, I was going to ask-”

“If there’s nothing else, Doctor,” she repeats, speaking over him. He falls silent. “Then I’d better go and make myself decent. Do stop by another time.”

She slips back into the hallway and you hear a door slam. Beside you, the Doctor clears his throat.

“I’d best be going. Lecture on Quantum Chromodynamics this afternoon. Still need to pick out the perfect record for it.” He stands up heavily, thrusting two biscuits into his pocket for the road. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Yeah.” Your eyes are fixed on the door. “Of course. See you soon.”

+++++

“Had a nice chat, did you?”

The bathroom door is open. Missy stands at the sink with her back to you, the tap running full force into the open plughole. Over the sound of rushing water and gurgling pipes her voice is low.

“Yeah, it was okay.” You move closer, gesturing towards her with the steaming mug in your hands. “I made you some tea.” She ignores you. Her attention is fixed on something in the sink, her hands busy with it. You peer around the doorframe. She’s wearing a clean chemise and nothing else, her hair pinned up messily, the muscles in her bare arms tight and flexing with the sawing motion of her elbows. “What are you doing?”

Her stained corset from the previous day is crumpled awkwardly in the sink. The bloody laces are directed under the freezing tap as she scrubs at them with a nailbrush, turning the water the colour of rust where it runs down the drain. Her fingers are a furious shade of pink from the cold and the rough work.

“He didn’t bring me any presentable clothes,” she mutters, not looking up from her thankless task. “No corset, no jacket, no shoes. He’d have me walking around in a housecoat and stockinged feet like an invalid.” She snarls, scrubbing harder, catching her fingers with the bristles. There’s too much blood in the water for it to all be leeching from the fabric; the delicate skin around her fingernails is ragged. Heart in your throat, you set the mug aside and reach for the tap.

“Missy, your hands-”

She knocks your hand away and turns on you. He’s obviously brought her some makeup; the injuries on her face are concealed and her eyes are lined heavily with kohl, flecks of mascara clinging to her lashes, dark lips stretched tight around her bared teeth. It’s hard to believe that she’s the same person who’d slept beside you last night.

“I don’t need your pity,” she snaps, the words poison in her mouth. “I won’t stand here and be fussed over by some idiot human child.”

It stings. After yesterday you thought you were getting somewhere; that you might do better than to tolerate each other, and actually start to become something like friends. Swallowing angry tears that threaten to weaken your voice, you bite back.

“I’ll bear that in mind next time you can’t get undressed by yourself.”

You regret the words before you’ve even spoken them. You understand that she’s lashing out at you because she feels weak, but it smacks of bullying and you can’t bear to be a punching bag for her wounded pride. Something sharp flashes behind her eyes.

“Oh, I bet you had a good laugh about that, didn’t you?” Her fingers, wet and cold as the grave, wrap tightly around your wrist. “He must have loved it.”

Softening immediately, you backpedal, realising the source of her rage. “Missy, I didn’t tell the Doctor about-”

She isn’t listening. She twists your arm up behind your back with startling strength, forcing it so high that your shoulder screams in protest and your words die in your throat. You’re up against the sink before you can draw breath. The tap is still running, icy spray soaking the front of your clothes. You brace your other hand against the slick porcelain and look down at the bloody water.

“Look at me!” Her teeth snap inches from your ear. Lifting your eyes to meet hers in the mirror, your breath falters at the expression on her face. In all the time you’ve known her, you haven’t seen rage like this. “Who am I?”

“You’re the Master.” Mouth dry, your breath fogs the mirror.

“I was reducing whole civilisations to rubble before your species stuck a feather into a pile of ash and drew their first hieroglyph,” she snarls. The threat in her voice makes your hair stand on end. “You’d do well to remember that.”

“I will.” The words come out strained. There’s a band of vice-like pain where she holds your wrist, an aching tightness in the muscles of your back that isn’t lessening. “I will. I’m sorry.”

She steps away so suddenly that you crumple, gripping the sink for support. Your forehead hits the mirror. As you squeeze your eyes shut and catch your breath, you can’t see the look of horror that flashes over her face.

When you open your eyes again she’s gone from behind you. Down the hall, your bedroom door closes. You stare into the sink until it starts to overflow.

+++++

You’re elbow-deep in soapy water, washing yesterday’s dishes, when there are four tentative knocks against the doorframe. You swallow hard and try to ignore them.

“Need a hand?” Missy’s voice is soft and hesitant.

“I’m fine.”

She doesn’t respond for so long that you think she must have left. You’re rinsing the last mug - the octopus - when she speaks again. It makes you jump.

“I’m sorry.” She sounds so genuine that your eyes flutter closed, pain twisting in your chest. “I’m sorry for earlier. That was- not my proudest moment.”

It takes you a second to steady your voice. “I didn’t tell the Doctor. About last night. About any of it.” Steeling yourself, you glance over your shoulder at her. She’s standing so far away. “He doesn’t know.”

“But you do.” It takes you by surprise. You turn around to face her, leaning against the sink. Her expression is implacable. Tracks of mascara stain her pale face; she’s been crying. “You know.”

You cross your arms and look away. The sight of her is turning your resolve into dust. “I understand that you don’t want to be here, Missy, but I didn’t ask you to come. That was his idea.”

“Wrong.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re wrong. It wasn’t his idea.” She scrubs a hand over her face, further smudging her makeup. Her fingers are trembling. She’s wearing the long violet housecoat, unbuttoned, over her thin chemise. Standing barefoot in your kitchen with her hair piled up in loose twists she looks like a ghost. “I don’t know what I expected to-”

“You asked him to bring you here?” You push away from the sink, your voice rising as you step towards her. She flinches, touches the wound on her back, leans heavily against the doorframe. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re the only one who doesn’t treat me like a criminal,” she snaps. Her words are tight with pain, and she bows at the hips to ease the strain on her back. “I’m a prisoner in the TARDIS as much as I am in the vault, but I thought that here I might be something else. Just for a few days.”

“I’m not keeping you here,” you snarl. “You can do whatever you like, as you took great pleasure in reminding me. You can leave whenever-”

“How can I?!” Looking up from the tiled floor, she fixes you with wild eyes. “How can I when he plays the warden and keeps my things from me on a whim? No clothes, no shoes, no sonic? Wherever I go the Doctor has my dignity under lock and key. What little sanctuary I find he takes, every time.”

“And you thought you’d take that out on me?” The trembling of your bottom lip betrays you. You bat at the mutinous tears in your eyes. “Put the stupid human in her place? Show me that you don’t-”

“That I don’t deserve your kindness.” She cuts you off, straightening up with obvious difficulty, her knuckles white on the door jamb. “Not so long ago I would have snapped you in half just to hear the sound it made. I have lived longer than you can fathom and done things that your language doesn’t have words for. I’m no stranger to regret, my dear.” The fury in her expression drains away and for a moment she looks as ancient as you know her to be. “So when I tell you that I am sorry for what I did to you, please understand what that means.”

Your throat tightens. She’s too easy to forgive like this, with her face lined with pain and her small frame quivering. She looks cold. The words sit heavy at the back of your tongue, ready to accept an apology whose sincerity you don’t doubt for a second. Swallowing them back, you murmur instead, “I think you need to sit down, Missy.”

She studies you with glassy eyes, breathing heavy. “Yes,” she whispers in the end. “Oh, yes. I think so.”

She slumps to the floor like a marionette with its strings cut. You land on your knees beside her just in time to keep her head from striking the tiles.

+++++

Despite your efforts, you can’t lift Missy onto the sofa. She’s fully unconscious and the dead weight of her is too much for you to move alone. Instead, you do the next best thing; you tuck a pillow beneath her head and a blanket around her, covering her from shoulders to bare feet, and sit in the living room to watch her breathing.

As the afternoon drags on, you make a late lunch - stepping carefully over her body to reach the kitchen - and pick at it, hardly tearing your eyes away from her for long enough to look at the television. You make no effort to be quiet but she doesn’t stir save for the soft noises she makes in her sleep and the occasional shift in her position. Recalling the Doctor’s words, you choose not to wake her.

“We heal better when we’re asleep.”

You have a torturous amount of time to think while she lies there. Did she sleep in the vault? What about the TARDIS? And before she came here, when she was travelling alone? The Doctor had told you once that Time Lords could go months without it and then spend the best part of a week unconscious. When the light begins to fail and evening falls outside the window, with Missy yet to awaken, you wonder just how long ago “the desert, last time” really was.

Phone in hand, you type and delete the same message over and over for almost ten minutes. The wording escapes you. Some iterations of it are huge paragraphs, wrought with pleading explanations; some are terse and demanding. The final draft ends up being one of the latter, sent before you can second guess yourself.

Bring her sonic tomorrow.

The response comes almost immediately. You open it with trembling fingers.

No.

Incensed, you don’t wait this time. Your jaw clenches with impotent rage as you reply.

Bring it.

You toss your phone to the other end of the sofa, ignoring the answering buzz that sounds angrier than an inanimate object has any right to. As if in response, Missy jolts upright.

It shocks you when she draws a deep, painful-sounding breath, her head whipping around, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Rising to your feet, you approach her slowly.

“Missy?”

She yelps at the sound of your voice, turning to look at you with wide eyes, reaching back to touch the healing injury when the sudden movement tugs at it. Her chest heaves with ragged breaths. The room is dim with autumn dusk, the overhead lights not switched on yet. In the gloom you can’t make out her expression; just those eyes, gleaming like a cat’s.

“It’s okay,” you say cautiously, showing her your palms in a gesture of surrender, trying to soothe her the only way you know how. “It’s okay, it’s just me.”

“What happened?” She throws it out like an accusation but there’s too much fear in her voice for it to wound you.

“I don’t know, you just- dropped. I think you passed out. It’s been a few hours.” Conscious of looming over her while she’s like this, you sink carefully to your knees, a few feet away. “Are you alright?”

It knocks the wind out of you when she throws herself into your arms.

“I thought you’d gone.” Her voice is muffled, warm in the crook of your neck as she claws at the fabric on your back, pulling herself closer. Your hands come to rest either side of the small of her back in an attempt to avoid the wound there. “I thought- I didn’t-”

“It’s okay,” you manage, stunned, propping your chin up on her shoulder. She’s shaking. “It’s okay. I’m here. Did you- were you dreaming?”

A stunted nod. “I can still hear them,” she croaks. “The drums. Always the drums. Whenever I sleep. Whenever I’m alone, they just keep coming back-”

“You’re not alone.” It spills out of your mouth before you can stop it and she whimpers, nuzzling deeper into your embrace. “I’ve got you, Missy. I’m here. You’re not alone.”

+++++

Propped up on the sofa with pillows behind her, Missy takes her makeup off with a damp cloth. She hisses as it drags over the graze on her cheek and your fingers twitch at your sides in sympathy.

“You’re sure you want to sleep here tonight?” As you tidy the remains of your shared meal from the coffee table, you resist the urge to look back at her. She’s lying awkwardly across the cushions, still wearing the housecoat, the blanket from earlier thrown over her body. “I really don’t mind if you want to share the bed.”

“No,” she answers too quickly. “No, I think- I think this is best. It’s easier on my back.”

“Of course.” The lie is paper-thin. After the day’s events, though, you don’t want to push her. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will.”

The microwave dings as you set the dishes on the counter, and you remove the steaming mug of hot milk. It’s been a long time since you’ve made this. You add twice as much honey as usual - she takes four sugars in her tea - and stir it in with the spices, turning the drink the colour of sand. It smells like home.

Missy looks at you questioningly when you set it on the coffee table in front of her.

“Milk and honey,” you explain weakly, rubbing your neck. “My mum’s recipe. She used to make it for me, when I had nightmares. It helps me sleep.”

Her keen eyes follow you as you switch on the standing lamp and turn off the main light, casting the room in a dim orange glow.

“I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

“Yes.” She picks at a loose thread on the blanket without looking at it. Her face is unreadable. “Thank you. Sleep well.”

There are so many things you want to say. Come to bed, or I forgive you, or you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

As you slip out of the door, all you manage is a quiet, “you too.”

+++++

When the bedroom door creaks open you close your eyes and fall still. There’s a rush of cool air over your back as the duvet lifts at one side, and the mattress sinks behind you. Missy whispers your name. Smiling to yourself, you feign sleep.

#missy x reader #the master x reader #whump #doctor who fic #doctor who whump #doctor who reader insert #mine #request #headcanon: missy never sleeps bc she has nightmares #headcanon: missy is very soft and i wuv her

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perriewinklenerdie · 4 years

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Gave into the fire (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

A/N: Hello, hello, hello! Guess who's alive :D Exams are officially over, thank god for that, so that means that writing can be back in session. We also are kinda sorta more or less about a month (and no, I couldn't fit in more 'maybe' words into that sentence) away from OH coming back (I said maybe, because it's an enigma at this point). So yeah, I finally am able to fuel all my brain power into writing (and playing Crash Team Racing Nitro Fueled because it's the best game ever and you can't change my mind). I hope you're all okay and taking care of yourselves

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25362976

Tag list: @paleweasels, @kittykatchoices, @valiantlychaoticbarbarian, @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @strawberrwess @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie, @choicesobsessedd, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @justanotherrookie

Enjoy! <3

--------------------

Even though it’s been hours since their fate had been decided by a bunch of rich people that were willing to spend their money on their cause, their nerves eased only when they finally sat down in the booth at the bar, Reggie serving them drink after drink. The unsettling feeling that followed them since the day the news of Edenbrook losing its funding has reached them, finally gave way to a wave of relief and unrestricted happiness. At least for one night, all their worries faded away, overshadowed by a glowing victory.

The regular circle of residents has been joined by one more person. Sitting right between Bryce and Sienna was Alex Morrow. Claire and Alex have known each other since they were kids, there was probably no one else that knew her as well as he did. Jackie called him ‘a walking Claire’s diary” and then tried to bribe him into spilling all her secrets, which Claire did not appreciate.

Since he lived in England, they didn’t see each other often. For that reason, her friends have never seen him outside of the computer screen before. Now, there he was, sandwiched between Bryce and Sienna, telling yet another story from their childhood, completely ignoring the kicks he’s consistently been getting from a sitting across from him Claire.

“That’s not how it went down and you know it!” she exclaimed, slamming her palm against the table. “You were the one who set the tree house on fire, I wasn’t even near that thing!”

“You did what?” Jackie choked on her drink, throwing herself into a coughing fit interlaced with a string of laughter.

“It was an accident, most of which was my fault, I admit. But it wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for Claire who decided to announce that my aunt was taking us out for ‘real food’ as she used to say, by which she meant the most gross concoction ever known to human kind. ” Alex admitted, shrugging his shoulders like it was the most logical thing in the world.

“Dude, I was only delivering the news. How is that my fault?”

“We didn’t go out with her and didn’t die eating that abomination, so I say it’s a win in my books. I was seven, my view of the world was different back then”

“So, you’re saying you wouldn’t set that tree house on fire again, just to spite aunt Kate?” grinning widely, Claire took a sip of her drink, her eyes sparkling playfully.

“Oh, hell yes I would, that woman is nasty.” He answered in a heartbeat, nodding his head just a bit too enthusiastically, causing the whole group to laugh. Alex’s eyes scanned the room, coming to a stop at something by the bar. “Someone’s staring. Is that him?”

Claire looked over, not knowing what to expect and at the same time knowing exactly who he was talking about. Right next to Reggie was Ethan, nursing a drink, looking over his shoulder from time to time. Their eyes met and she expected him to look away, but that didn’t happen. Instead, he insistently held her gaze, an unreadable spark causing a shiver to run down her spine.

“You should go talk to him.” Sienna muttered softly, her eyes sympathetic. “It’s been almost two months since you really talked to one another, and I don’t want to push you into doing something you don’t want to do but maybe you guys need… closure.”

“I agree with Sienna.” Alex joined in, looking at her with a smile. “You’ll feel better afterwards.”

Claire looked between the two of them. The whole purpose of staying away from Ethan was so that she wouldn’t have to talk to him. It’s been two months of trying and somewhat succeeding at keeping their relationship professional while trying to not be short with each other when they did have to talk. No one knew what exactly went down between the two doctors, and they wanted to keep it that way.

A war was waging in her head, both sides screaming loudly, pulling her in the opposite directions until one of them won. “Ugh, I hate you all.”

“We love you too!” Sienna called out after her, sharing a tense smile with Alex.

She stood up, squaring her shoulders as she mentally prepared for what was to come. It was easy, right? She just had to… walk up to him and start a conversation. Pretty easy.

Except it wasn’t. Because with Ethan, nothing was ever as easy as it seemed. It filled her with dread almost as much as it excited her, most of the time at least. Talking to him was thrilling, his intelligence challenging her and drawing her in the more she tried to resist.

Being near him was exhilarating. Every last one of her nerve endings was sparking with electricity, her body tuned to his presence. If his behavior towards her was any indication, he was tuned to her too. She moved, he felt the tug to follow. He stepped closer, she felt the invisible force, pulling her to him.

Her walk came to a stop, right by his side. She felt his eyes on her before she saw them, hot and intense trail, enveloping her whole body. When their gazes finally met, there was that spark again, thinly veiled by indifference.

“Hi.” She decided to be the brave one and start the conversation. Though brave didn’t exactly describe the way she spoke the word. Slowly, quietly and shyly, like she was afraid of shattering the fragile balance they managed to achieve in the past two months.

“Hi.” He responded, just as quietly and uncertainly, his shoulders tensing slightly. A long moment of silence followed, their eyes locked onto one another securely, refusing to look away. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, he asked. “How are you?”

“I’m good. So relieved that we’re out of the troubled water. It feels like a heavy weight has been taken off my shoulders. I can breathe again.” she let out a nervous breath, laughing slightly. He smiled at that, his eyes softening just a bit, tension in his body lessening.

“Don’t suffocate on me, Rookie, we can’t afford to lose you.” Ethan’s voice sounded like he tried to be nonchalant, but ultimately failed. It carried so many emotions and had so much depth to it that he himself could drown in it, searching for salvation that was out of his reach. He couldn’t get out of this feeling if he tried. To an outsider, it seemed as though the longer they were so close to one another, the softer Ethan was becoming, the closer to each other they were leaning. Like they were unable to resist it, like they didn’t want to resist it.

“Don’t worry, Dr. Ramsey, you’re stuck with me for a long time.” She muttered, shifting from one foot to the other. Her gaze fell to the ground, the floor suddenly more interesting that the conversation they were trying to have. Finally, she looked up, biting the inside of her cheek for a quick moment. “Anyway, I just wanted to check in on you. Enjoy the rest of your night… Ethan.”

“Claire?” he called out after her, making her turn back towards him. Her eyebrow shot up in question. “Let your hair down. It brings your eyes out.”

A blush spread across her cheeks, accompanied by a soft smile, but not another word was spoken. She felt his eyes on her, walking her back to her friends, and then the warmth was gone once again. He turned back to his drink, trying to refocus and shake off the feeling of her effect on him.

Sienna and Alex waited until Claire sat down, watching with surprise as she took apart the braid that her hair had been in, and only then did they bombard her with questions.

“What did he say?”

“What happened?”

She held her breath before letting it out, shrugging her shoulders with a blank expression. “We… talked. That’s it, actually.”

In the corner of her eye, Claire noticed Ethan getting up and going towards the garden in the back. She tried not to let it distract her too much, tuning back into the conversation her friends were having, but the temptation to follow him has became too strong to ignore. “I’ll be right back.”

Her feet carried her towards him on her own, like she was being pulled by a magnet. Once she was sure that she’s out of her friends’ sight, her pace had picked up, but as she stepped outside, she saw it empty. No sight of Ethan, or anyone else for that matter. Just the soft tune, flowing in the background, blending flawlessly with the wind that moved the leaves on the trees.

Slight movement of the door leading inside the smaller building in the back caught her attention, and suddenly she knew exactly where she was supposed to go. Her hand pushed the handle, closing the door as she stepped into the dimly lit room, her breath shallow and fast, uncertain of what was about to happen.

Pretty much as soon as the door closed, his warmth surrounded her like a thick blanket. His arms went around her and pulled her back towards him, embracing her gently. “I was worried you wouldn’t come.”

“I think you’re lying” she whispered, her hands sliding down his arms until they reached his palms, fingers tangling gently. “You have a hard time staying away from me, and so do I.”

“Are you suggesting I don’t have any self-control, Claire?”

“When it comes to us? No, you don’t.” she responded lightly, leaning back against him. “But then again, neither do I. Prime example is us being here, Ethan.”

He took her hand, bringing it up to his lips for a lingering kiss as soon as he spun her around to face him. She took a step towards him, her other hand resting on the side of his neck comfortably while his other arm slipped around her waist, pulling her as close to him as he could. Eye to eye, nose to nose, body to body, they fell into the comforting motion of swaying, back and forth. Her eyes fell shut, his scent calming her senses, her breathing in sync with his.

“I’m not sure I can let you go.” Claire’s voice broke the tender silence that fell upon them after what felt like forever. His embrace got tighter, his lips pressing against her forehead.

“I’m not sure I can either.”

----------

Rain rang against the windows of his apartment, creating a soft contrast to the discussion they were having. Seated on the couch were two doctors, sitting under a blanket, two cups of now cold tea on the table near them. He raised his eyebrow at her idea.

“That’s it! That’s the one!” Claire’s voice rang out, laced with a delighted laugh. Ethan looked at her in confusion. Mostly because the whole discussion of the ‘code’ seemed ridiculous to him at the time, but he would find out later on that having a silent way to say ‘I care about you’ would come in handy more times than he would be able to count.

“But I do that all the time. How will you know what I mean by that?”

“That’s the added bonus. No one will be able to tell if you’re professing your feelings to me or being annoyed. As for me…” she leaned towards him, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. “I already know that you can’t get angry at me, really, so there’s no conflict there.”

“But-“

“Find some other way to express you being annoyed at me, then, because this one is sticking.” She kissed him, for real this time, climbing into his lap and tangling her fingers into his hair.

“How about you?” he panted after they separated a few moments later, his hands running up and down her back. She combed her fingers through his strands for a bit as she thought her answer through.

“What would you say about…” she tapped her cheek three times, right in the place that he’s always chosen to kiss in the past. “… this.”

His lips followed right where her finger was just a split second ago, pressing a lingering kiss to her skin. “Perfect.”

---------

Somehow, neither of them was sure how, they ended up by the wall, Claire’s back pressed against it as Ethan’s lips assaulted her neck. Her soft moans got lost under the music, flowing from the outside. He tangled his hand into her hair, pulling on it slightly. “I’m glad you followed my advice.”

“I had a feeling you would get your way somehow, so I decided to make it easy for you.”

Their lips met in a hungry kiss, no holding back, no reservations. It’s been a couple of days since they could just let go and not stress about the outside world, and every time they got the chance to do so was a small victory they got to celebrate.

That’s how it’s been for quite some time now. Ethan got fed up with his own stubbornness and decided to give himself a chance to be happy. That meant that he finally got the chance to see where his feelings for Claire would lead him. Very soon, pretty much the moment he kissed her with the purpose of never letting her go, he realized that he has been, in fact, an idiot for trying to suppress this feeling. Naveen has told him, time and time again, that he should stop trying to be correct all the time, and instead go for what was right.

Because what they had was right. It felt right. There weren’t a lot of times in which Ethan could say he experienced ‘right’, but here it was. Claire just… was. And that was enough. It was enough to pull him away from unhealthy work habits. It was enough to pull a smile onto his face. It was enough to pull that heavy weight off his chest. It was everything.

The kiss slowed down, until they just stood there, lips pressed against each other, breathing the same air. When her eyes opened, she found his already on her, filled to the brim with warmth and softness that she didn’t see in there that often.

Her arms went around his neck, pulling him closer to her, taking a deep breath to remember his scent, even though she’s had it memorized by now. “We should tell Naveen.”

“I think he knows” Ethan muttered against the skin of her neck, the motion tickling her a bit.

“We should tell him regardless. Maybe he’ll have an idea as to what we should do. I’m not sure if I can keep you hidden for much longer.”

“I’m that tempting, huh?” he snickered, earning himself a pinch on the side of his ribcage, followed by a shriek as he tickled her back.

“Irresistible.” She breathed out, pulling him into a short kiss, trying and failing to not fall into him again. Neither of them was sure how much time has passed before they came up for air again, but judging by the change in music, it must have been a while.

“Where are you going after the night is over?” he asked, pulling her hair back over her shoulder, smoothing it out to his best ability. She shrugged, her face spelling out innocence.

“My apartment of course.” Her response was met with a low hum, his finger following the line of her cheekbone.

“I think you meant mine.”

“Why? Are you implying something, Dr. Ramsey?”

“Only that I will miss you dearly if you leave me alone, Dr. Herondale.” He admitted with a boyish smile that lit up his features, making him even more handsome in her eyes than he usually is.

“You’re asking so nicely…“ Claire muttered, her lips kissing his chin tenderly. “… how could I possibly refuse?”

They had a hard time letting each other go, pulling the other back in as soon as they got too far, but at last, their embrace broke and she went back to her friends, praying that her appearance didn’t give her away. They’ve gotten good at pretending, but if there was to be any indication of what was happening between them, her friends would pick up on it instantly.

Luckily for her, no one seemed to notice anything, and as soon as she sat down next to Sienna, she was brought into the conversation. If Alex had noticed her being flushed, like she always was when even so much as talking about Ethan, he didn’t say a thing.

About five minutes later, Ethan walked back into the main building with a purpose of going home, where he would wait for her to join him. As he passed them by, he raised his eyebrow at her, and she tapped her cheek three times.

#ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #mc x ethan #dr. ethan ramsey #mc x ethan ramsey #dr ethan ramsey x mc #fic #fanfiction #open heart #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction

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therovingstar · 3 years

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Prompt #4: Ferality

Ha-ha! Thought I was done with these, did you? This has now become the 2021 Whenever-uary seaswolchallenge, hosted by me, for me. Mostly because this one gave me so much trouble, hence why it took so long; too many ideas, and I broke my own rule about no editing and not thinking too hard about it. But I’m finally happy with it, so there. In terms of the prompt, I took some liberties with the definition and focused on this particular part of it: existing in a natural state. Throw in some metaphors and similes pertaining to the wild, and here’s what we got: Hien x WoL, 1500w, so much fluff you might call it schmoop, humor, and a fair bit of introspection. Maybe takes place some time post-5.3. Forewarning for some implications of and innuendos about sexy times. Enjoy!

“Have you ever been told that your hair resembles the mane of a Steppe gedan? Or a voidsent?”

She asks this as she observes him; him, and the way he fits so comfortably on the landscape of her bed, highlighted by the morning sunlight just beginning to stream through the windows. It fairly gilds him, burnishes the beige of his skin and brings the thick planes of his back, the scars on his shoulders, the lines of his neck into high relief. As if he has been carved into as reverently as any chuluu, the trials of his life written into the stone of his flesh for any to behold, if so granted the fortune.

These days, the fortune has been hers, and she cannot help eyeing the proof: in the luxurious stretch of him on her mattress, in the untamed flow of his loose hair across her coverlet, in the scatter of talon marks along the broad of his back, red and recent amongst long-healed scars. As if in the fit of her desire, she sought to leave her own history on his skin.

She may examine that more closely one day – history, and the impact she may wish them to have on one another’s – but for now, she cares only for the large black hedgehog of his head nestled near her hip, and the way it shakes with muffled laughter. When he finally chooses to reveal it, Hien’s face is alight with humor.

“No, I can certainly say no one has,” he answers with a chuckle. “Though a child in Reunion did once tell me it resembled a halgai that had fallen into a pot of soot black dye.” He tilts his head up at her, looking curious. “What do voidsent look like?”

“In a word? This.” After a short, hesitant moment, Odzaya touches her hand to his brow, just shy of his hairline, before allowing it to slowly ease its way into his mane, her fingers instantly disappearing into the thick of it. Hien’s smile turns toothy.

“Afraid it will bite?”

“Or swallow me whole,” she quips dryly, to his clear amusement. She fights her own smile in response. “Ensuring I am not overstepping bounds,” she answers honestly. “This is still new.”

Hien huffs a quiet laugh. “Aye, I suppose it is,” he agrees. Then returns the gesture, reaches up and grasps one of the long lavender braids hanging near his face, rolling it between his large fingers. As he does, he rolls further onto his back and nestles closer, his beard scratching at the skin and scale of her naked thigh, his lips inadvertently soothing the same spot as he speaks. “So is my being here, yes?”

Indeed. The last thing she expected during her minor stint in Limsa was to find him standing on her doorstep on the cusp of moonrise, his departure unknown to any and all, including Merlwyb and the dignitaries meant to be hosting him in the city proper. The disguise he wore – simple adventurer’s fare he procured from gods-knew-where – effectively threw her when she answered the door (for once actually taking the time to stay in one of her own dwellings), until he removed the bandana and his hair all but sprang free, shocking a laugh out of her system like precious few others could.

She should have sent him back; would have, if not for the excitement with which he described his stealthy escape (“easier than it should have been, to be honest. It makes me wonder…”), the single flower he coveted for her from a just-closing stand (“I suspect the man overcharged me, mayhaps thinking me a tourist? True enough, I suppose.”), as well as the way he lingered near the door, all soft eyes and boyish smile, as if waiting for her permission to truly call his risk worth the reward of her company.

He made it easier to give him that company than she chooses to admit. Makes it easy still, as she drags her nails across his scalp, silky, glossy spikes bowing beneath her palm and springing back to life in her wake, like tall grass, and he fairly melts under the ministrations of her hand, jade-green eyes sliding almost reverently shut as he arches into her touch, a sound emitting from his chest that rumbles into her skin and makes her stomach clench. “Should you not be leaving soon?” she asks him, a distraction for herself as memories of the past night set her nerves ablaze.

“I suppose I should be.” Contrary to the implication in his agreement, Hien merely shifts closer, a sigh, seeming near-blissful, releasing from between his lips. Odzaya counts the seconds, then minutes that pass in silence, with her fingers still his hair and his still tangled in the vines of hers. When the third passes, she smirks.

“You are not moving,” she observes.

“No?” he replies nonchalantly, eyes still shut. “I thought I had.”

“You have not,” she corrects, looking down at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I see.”

Another minute, then two, during which she thinks she may have to oust him herself, and then suddenly he is moving, releasing her hair and smoothly lifting the leg against which he rests. He plants it on his other side too quickly for her to react with more than a tiny yelp of surprise, so fluid in his motions that her balance is restored before she can register its loss as he simultaneously spreads her thighs and settles his head between them with aplomb.

Hien aims a smug grin up at her, surrounded by the roped curtain of her hair. “I have moved,” he proudly declares, to which Odzaya can only respond with a sharp tug to his mane and an incredulous huff of laughter.

“And yet failed to leave, you brat.”

Meeting her gaze, Hien’s grin gradually softens, quiets into something reminiscent of the previous evening when he first knocked on her door. “What if I said I wished to stay?” he suggests, almost bashful with the words. “Just a while longer?”

“Between my legs?” she asks, purposely obtuse as her brow lift once more.

He grins toothily again, his eyes crinkling at their corners. “For a start, I suppose.”

He plays with her hair again; the thick swath of his spreads all across one hip, trailing the width of her coverlet, almost a blanket in itself; she feels the tickling prickle of the strands on her skin, like silken canines.

It is still new, yes. The feel of him here, occupying intimate space like the friend he is and the lover he is becoming. New, but also already, strangely natural, like he belongs here, tangled up in her bedding, rather than alone in one of the Mizzenmast’s best rooms. Something else she may examine later, when he is not looking up at her like he would rather not be anywhere else, when she does not feel the inexplicable urge to straddle his hips and press the flat of her horn to his sun-warm chest, right over his heart, and deafen herself to all but its beat.

When she remains silent and still, his own thick brow lifts, his expression patient, yet gently entreating. A king asking permission.

...hells, but it works, as well as it did the previous eve.

This time, it is Hien caught in the throes of incredulity, grunting with surprise as Odzaya abruptly takes the pillow of her mound from under his head and he drops, only to be served a tantalizing view of her nude form as she stands over him, feet planted firmly on the mattress. It lasts not nearly long enough as she walks the length of it, turns, and unceremoniously drops once more upon it herself, forcing a guffaw from deep in his belly as she uses his own torso as her cushion, and stretches herself along the muscled planes of him, until her head is settled right over the center of his heaving chest.

“Is that a yes, then?” Hien asks between chuckles, his tone bright with humor. As he calms, he enfolds her in his arms, a heavy hand coming to rest on her head, to tangle back in her hair.

Odzaya’s half-lidded gaze follows the flutter of light-touched dust particles in the air. Already his heartbeat is lulling, tempting her to ignore responsibility and Azim’s call to rise, at least-

“For now,” she murmurs, and closes her eyes completely. “A time. Until your being here is no longer so new.”

“Ah,” Hien answers, and there he goes again with another sigh, settling even further into their hold, into her space, as if all he needed to do so was her blessing. “Most of the morning, then, I should think,” he postulates. “At the least.”

The satisfaction in his tone is as resonant as the thump of his heart in the hollow of her horn. Odzaya smirks. “We will see.”

A settling, it is. Into his hold, into this intimacy. Into this new normalcy, mayhaps, if ever it – this feeling, of him, of her, of them – becomes so natural as to become necessary.

Something to think about. Later.

#odzaya malaguld #hien rijin #hien x wol #otp: starry-eyed #storytime #in which hien manages to be both the littlest of shits #and the sweetest person alive #the man’s duality is astounding #what odzaya’s gonna do with him only nhaama knows #i had like 5 ideas for this prompt #all of which were developed in some way #only for me to circle all the way around back to this one #ie. the first one #the others might get attention later tho #also yes i changed their ship name #so far no regrets

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gardenofdelight · 3 years

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✨OC Questionnaire: Peaseblossom✨

a.k.a. Pixie Reader from Fairies May Cry

Full name

???????????????

Preferred name/nickname

Lil Pea, Lil Blossom, Sweet Pea

Generally referred to as

Peaseblossom

Appearance

FACECLAIM: Here’s a portrait I made using Artbreeder:

SEX: Female

HEIGHT: Just barely 5 inches in pixie form, 5 feet in human form.

WEIGHT: Light as a feather in pixie form, lightweight in human form.

BUILD: Lithe and slender.

HAIR: long, soft, and platinum blond. Usually braided with tiny flowers, but it comes down past her bottom when loose.

SKIN: White. Smooth and sunkissed from daily naps under the sun.

EYES: Purple like lilac flowers.They’re a bit wide and always seem to sparkle with mirth and mischief. Long eyelashes.

MOUTH: Small mouth with plump lips. Perfectly straight teeth and pure white.

NOSE: Small and rounded with a cute point at the tip and small nostrils.

HANDS: Small with short fingernails.

FEET: Small and dainty with short nails.

SCARS: None.

CLOTHES: Colorful dresses handmade from real flowers, but she prefers to be nude with a sprinkling of her fairy dust on her body most of the time

OTHER FEATURES: She has 2 pairs of iridescent wings much like a dragonfly.

OTHER NOTABLE FEATURES: She has a “fairy light” that changes color depending on her current mood.

Speech

VOICECLAIM: To be determined.

ACCENT: Fairly neutral.

VERBAL TICS: She has a tendency to repeat words when she’s overly excited about something. And she stumbles over her words when taken by surprise.

LANGUAGE: She can speak all known languages so long as she can hear it verbally first thanks to a little fairy magic.

ARTICULATION: She can be a little clumsy with words while explaining things but she does so on purpose sometimes if she’s hoping to get the upper hand in a deal.

EDUCATION: She prefers to use short and simple words but she’s learned a few big words that are hard for her to pronounce correctly.

LAUGHTER: Sounds like the tinkling of tiny bells in the wind, and she laughs and giggles a lot everyday.

GRUMP: She pouts, grumbles, and sneers whenever she’s annoyed or angry.

BREATHING: She gasps, humphs, and sighs a lot.

Mannerisms

FACE: She has a very expressive face and has a hard time hiding emotions on her face unless she’s working out a deal...then she has the best damn poker face in existence.

HANDS: She makes a lot of hand gestures whenever she’s excited or mad. Lots of arm crossing, finger wagging, curious poking, and happy clapping.

LEGS/FEET: She kicks her feet sometimes while flying and stomps her foot down when she’s angry.

EMOTIONAL OUTBURSTS: Her capricious nature makes her very prone to emotional outbursts. Crying and yelling when she’s upset and laughing and bouncing around when she’s happy.

HABITS: She likes to hum sometimes while hunting for lost trinkets and sing lullabies while making flower dresses.

POSTURE: She tends to slump a little while standing or sitting, but her posture straightens out whenever she’s very happy, angry, or taken by surprise.

WALKING POSTURE: She skips around gleefully when she’s in good, but she tends to stomp around when she’s in a bad mood.

SITTING POSTURE: She likes to sit with her legs crossed beneath her with a slouched posture.

PERSONAL SPACE: She doesn't have much of a personal bubble and tends to encroach on others’ personal space without realizing it.

SPACIAL AWARENESS: She’s really good at noticing what’s around her thanks to her constant hunt for the next best trinket.

OTHER: Her fairy light changes color depending on her mood. And her fairy wings tend to snap out when she’s surprised, droop when she’s feeling down, and flutter faster when they're buzzing with rage.

Health

DIET: Two words: liqueur and sweets! She loves fruity wines and sugary treats...it’s not really healthy and definitely not a well-balanced diet but pixies have an extremely high metabolism. She rarely eats vegetables and scoffs at anything boring and bitter.

SLEEP: She takes a lot of short naps throughout the day. Pixies don’t sleep for very long unless they’re completely exhausted. Many of her dreams consist of brave adventures with her trusty steed (a rat named Sir Hawthrone) and romantic dances with Pretty Boy (Vergil).

EXERCISE: Not very much but flying around and searching through all the nooks and crannies for lost trinkets is a bit of an exercise!

ACTIVITY: She works hard when she wants to, especially if she’s really excited about something...that’s usually when she pushes herself to exhaustion. But she can be pretty lazy some days...it all just depends on her mood at the moment.

CLEANLINESS: She bathes in the morning dew she creates every morning for her flowers. But sometimes she takes a shower with Pretty Boy when he’s not looking…!

ODOUR: Like a meadow of sweet flowers by a tranquil pond.

MEDICINAL DRUGS: No.

NARCOTICS: No.

ADDICTIONS: No...unless you count the obsessive need to make deals and having a sweet tooth as an addiction.

ILLNESS: No.

INJURIES: No.

PARASITES: No.

OTHER: To be determined.

Personal

INTROVERT/EXTROVERT?: She’s an exuberant extrovert. Lil Pea doesn’t let her small size get in the way of being social and outgoing, especially when it comes to things that pique her curiosity.

OPTIMIST/PESSIMIST: Definitely an optimist.

GENDER: Female.

SEXUALITY: She has no set preference in regards to sex and/or gender. So long as they’re a very nice person with a kind soul. Any display of intentional cruelty or just general “meanie-ness” will make her look the other way.

ROMANTIC: Absolutely loves all the romance!

MEMORY: She has a very chaotic memory, usually wavering between highly accurate to absurdly silly.

PLANNING: She’s a terrible planner and just leaps right into things with a wide grin.

PENSIVE: She doesn’t spend a lot of time pondering about life...she’d much rather live in the now and not then or yet to come.

INTUITION: She has really good intuition so long as she isn’t figuring things out on an empty stomach.

PROBLEM SOLVING: She’s very good at solving puzzles and problems so long as it's very clever or in rhyming form.

GOALS: To find the greatest lost trinket in the world!

INSECURITIES: She thinks her wings aren’t as pretty as some of the other fairies with their beautiful butterfly wings. But she hides her insecurities well behind her cute and bubbly personality.

ACHIEVEMENTS: She’s very proud of her trinket collection and her ability to make Pretty Boy blush!

ANXIETY: Being trapped like a bug in a jar and Pretty Boy being in danger makes her super anxious.

OVERWHELMED: She only feels like things are too much when she’s stressed out.

SELF-HELP: She simply ignores her problems and moves on with life.

COMFORTS: Liquor, sweet treats, naps among the flowers, and Pretty Boy kisses.

BAD HABITS: She tends to exaggerate a lot which sometimes leads to more problems.

PHILOSOPHY: Not religious but does follow the creed of all fairies: always seek to make clever deals through trickery and under no circumstances are you to break a deal.

TRIGGERS: Glass jars and bird cages.

The Past

PARENTS/GUARDIANS: She doesn’t have parents per se...more like a mysterious guardian who brought her into existence with powerful magic. And they get along very well but haven’t seen each other in over a millennium.

SCHOOL: She never went to school...unless you count causing mischief a few times during some classes to make children laugh at the teacher’s expense.

ADOLESCENCE: She was never an adolescent.

LEAVING HOME: It was very exciting for her the first time since she’s always heard how much the mortal realm can be! But then she became a permanent resident when she escaped from the mages holding her captive.

FURTHER EDUCATION: She never went to college but wouldn’t mind causing some mischief there too.

FIRST JOB: She helped her guardian with his garden by tending to the flowers. She enjoyed putting dew on the blooms every morning and healing to sickly buds with her bell-like singing.

LIFE EVENTS: Making a deal with one of the Princes of the Seelie Court definitely brought more cheer into her life. But having that same Prince fail to protect her when she got captured by mages and enduring captivity brought pain and sorrow. And now finding a new protector has renewed her hope and continues to bring her joy every day.

WORST DAY OF THEIR LIFE: She was captured by mage and held prisoner for various vile experiments.

BEST DAY OF THEIR LIFE: Pretty Boy kissed her back.

LESSONS: Never trust someone solely on their looks...you must peer into their soul and judge them by their spirit. Never hide in the dark alone. Don’t eat too much strawberry ice cream or else you’ll suffer from the worst stomach EVER! And it only takes one fairy’s sugar to make Pretty Boy smile and sometimes blush!

LOOKING BACK: If Lil Pea could re-play her life and do something differently, she would’ve not joined the Prince’s revelry in the mortal world that fateful day.

Relationships

FAMILY: The crew at Devil May Cry are pretty much her family now.

FRIENDSHIPS: She has a lot of friends! Most of them are critters living in and around the shop...but they’re very loyal and love to go on adventures with her.

FRIENDS IN NEED: She will always be there for her friends with fairy dust to cheer them up...she’ll also offer to even the score if someone is the source of her friend’s troubles. This usually involves some elaborate pranks and tiny raspberries right in their face.

NEEDING A FRIEND: She usually seeks the comfort of her flowers and critter friends first...but sometimes she’ll go to her human friends when she needs help or advice. It just depends on her mood at the time.

ANNOYANCES: She gets annoyed very easily but reciprocates with swift pranks and raspberries right in the face when really irked.

ROMANCE: She’s a bit overt with her advances and has no problem giving her romantic interest pretty gifts. She’s attracted to people with a good and just soul...and being tall and strong doesn’t hurt either.

MARITAL PROBLEMS: She’s not married but she’d probably ignore the problem until forced to deal with it...and then her capriciousness would take over and it’ll either turn out very good or very bad but confusing nonetheless.

ADVERSARIES: She doesn’t like big meanies who ruin all the fun!

ENEMIES: Anyone who would hurt Pretty Boy or defenseless animals and children is an enemy to her. She also gets VERY angry when flowers are needlessly destroyed.

STRANGERS: She tends to hide from strangers since you never know if they’re real nice or a big meanie!

FUN STUFF: She loves to sing, dance, pull pranks, hunt for lost trinkets, make pretty dresses, and feast on all the sweets and booze!

DATING: She loves to dance with her romantic partner and will always be ready for a feast with good booze. But she finds a stroll among the flowers and fireflies at night very romantic.

BEST FRIEND: Her trusty rat steed, Sir Hawthorne...but Scruffy Boy and Sweet Lady have become close friends too!

LOVE: Her devilish protector will always have her tiny heart.

WORST ENEMY: Anyone who has terrible manners and harms flowers or Pretty Boy.

Interactions

MINGLING: She gets along with others so long as they have good manners and aren’t big meanies!

COMFORT LEVELS: She’s comfortable talking to people but will steer the conversation by any means necessary if they stumble upon a touchy subject. The only time she’s uncomfortable is when people ask too many questions or focus too much on the past and future.

PHYSICAL: She’s very touchy-feely! Loves to give hugs and poke noses no matter her size at the moment.

GROUPS: She’s comfortable in a big group so long as she knows everybody, but even that doesn’t stop her since she’s very good at hanging around while not being noticed. But sometimes she wants to spend time alone with one or two people who’ll give her plenty of attention.

OPENNESS: She opens up very easily up to a certain extent. It’ll take some patience and gentle prying to get her to talk openly up about her past.

GENEROSITY: She likes to give gifts to those who prove a friend to the Fae. She’d gladly lend money to a friend...so long as they make a deal with her in return. And it makes her very happy to receive gifts from others.

JEALOUSY: Anyone that takes her Pretty Boy’s attention away from her makes her feel incredibly jealous! But pulling a few pranks on the offender always makes her feel better.

TEMPER: She’s easily worked up thanks to the capricious nature of pixies.

EMPATHY: She can empathize but sometimes she doesn’t understand the reasons behind some mortal’s feelings, which leads to a misunderstanding if no one explains.

AFFECTION: Lots of hugs and “fairy’s sugar” with the occasional gift or helping hand with her fairy dust.

DISTASTE: Her fairy light will flash red as she blows many raspberries right in their face...and a few pranks if she REALLY dislikes someone.

ETIQUETTE: She has very good manners just like any fairy worth their salt! But most mortals don’t know the proper etiquette of the Fae...which may look very rude and inappropriate to them.

RESPONSIBILITY: She doesn’t like to admit when she’s wrong but will face the music when it all falls apart. Then, she’ll try to make up for her mistakes by any means possible.

SELF ESTEEM: She’s always had to stick up for herself until meeting the Prince since many of the Fae treat fairies born through non-fairy magic like her very poorly.

CONFIDENCE: She’s very confident in herself and her abilities despite being treated differently from her own kind.

HONESTY: She always speaks her mind unless she’s up to some mischief or feels that it might upset someone.

LEADER OR FOLLOWER: She’s a little of both. She usually follows but can take the lead if needed.

PARTY TRICKS: She’s an expert trinket finder, flower dressmaker, and can put dew on all the flowers in a meadow before the first ray of sunrise! And she also knows how to make pretty half devils blush.

PRAISE: Compliments and praise make her fairy light turn pink with joy.

FAILURES: Her capricious attitude can be irritating to some but her constant need to pull pranks is highly annoying.

CRITICISM: She doesn’t take criticism very well...she’d either burst into tears or swear pretty pixie vengeance on the unfortunate critic!

INSULTS: It depends on who’s insulting her. She’ll fire back with one of her inventive insults at some, but then get teary eyed at others.

EMBARRASSMENT: She’s not easily embarrassed but it still happens whenever she’s taken by surprise. Her fairy light turns pink and red as she scurries away to hide whenever she’s embarrassed.

FLIRTING: She’s VERY flirty...absolutely adores the way people light up and blush at her cute compliments.

ATTENTION SPAN: She has a very short attention span and tends to get easily distracted.

SITUATIONS: She’s very good at breaking up difficult situations but has a hard time dealing with them through patient conversation.

Life

CAREER: Expert trinket finder and very pretty pixie for Pretty Boy! It’s a very fulfilling career for a fairy.

PROMOTION: She’s eyeing the promotion known as “girlfriend” at the moment.

BOSS: She has a great relationship with her boss so long as she doesn’t tease him too much.

DUTY: She assists Pretty Boy with her unique talents and magical fairy dust.

TECH: She has no idea how to use modern technology but would find it very fascinating if she ever gave it a try!

POLITICS: Not political at all.

COMBAT SKILLS: She’s very good at blinding people with her fairy dust and is proficient in mounted combat on her ratty stead with her needle sword.

HOME: She keeps her personal space very tidy and filled with many different flowers.

DAILY LIFE: She goes through her day-to-day tasks with an eager wonder of unknown adventures that might happen along the way.

INDEPENDENCE: Very independent since escaping the mages to live in the human world.

COOKING: She can’t really cook but loves to help from time to time by sprinkling her fairy dust over food.

BUILDING: She can’t do basic DIY but she tries to help with her fairy magic!

CLEANING: She always tries to keep her personal space clean but her fairy dust remains always present all over her pile of flowers where she usually sleeps.

SHOPPING: She doesn’t really shop due to her small stature and shyness around a group of strangers, but she likes to accompany her friends on shopping trips. But if she ever got her hands on some funds while in her bigger form...Ooh she’d be the most impulsive buyer in the human world!

DRIVING: She doesn’t know how to drive but it always looked like so much fun whenever she rode in the van with Crazy Lady and Baby Boy!

FINANCES: She has the biggest trinket hoard in all the shop! But she doesn’t quite understand why mortals value pieces of paper with pictures of old people.

MARRIAGE: Not married. She doesn’t know why mortals need a huge ceremony to spend eternity together, but she loves all the pretty dresses and flowers at weddings!

KIDS: No kids. And she has no plans to have kids herself, but she loves to make children smile and laugh with her mischievous antics.

PETS: No pets.

DEPENDANTS: No.

LAW: To human standards? Definitely. But to fairy standards? No.

COURT: She’s never been to court.

PRISON: No.

TRAVELLING: She’s been to many places around various worlds and different realities.

MEDICAL: She doesn’t trust doctors and always makes sure to have an apple on hand whenever someone needs to keep them away.

ILLNESS: No.

WORRIES: She worries for Pretty Boy whenever nightmares plague his dreams at night.

PEACE: She doesn’t mind peace and quiet but there’s music in the air around her thanks to her own whimsical singing.

PARTYING: She LOVES to go out partying whenever possible! There’s nothing like a good revel with lively music and vast feasts!

HOBBIES: She collects lost trinkets, makes dresses out of flowers, and finds mischief in the unlikeliest places!

#peaseblossom #pixie reader #oc questionnaire #Fairies May Cry #time see what lies behind a very pretty pixie! ✨🧚‍♀️✨#harlot writes #harlot speaks

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loveafterthefact · 3 years

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Love After the Fact Chapter 73: Care and After

Keith and Lance have to wait two movements to take a pregnancy test. In the meantime, Keith recuperates and some actual work gets done.

And I finally stop shitting on Krolia quite so much, bc I'm nice like that 😇

First Previous Next

Krolia stops by while Keith is in a deep sleep, offering the excuse that she’s bringing them more food and returning BleepBloop. Once she’s made her excuse plausible, the offerings placed in the cellar beneath the remaining packages she’d given them a movement ago, she admits her true purpose with a question.

“How is he?”

“He’s fine,” Lance murmurs, brushing hair out of Keith's face. He pushes one foot rhythmically against the wall, letting their hanging bed sway gently back and forth. “The night before last, he had some trouble holding his fever. I ended up putting him in a hot bath. Then last night, his fever broke fully.”

“When his fever dropped the first time, was it a false break or just a drop in temperature?”

“No… It was my fault. It got really cold out, and I forgot to feed the fire. He couldn’t keep up. He was still having chills, and was slightly lucid. He suggested I run him a bath. I don’t think he remembers, though.”

“A dip in fever is pretty normal for a first season. Galra are never as strong their first time around. You handled it well.”

“Mhm. I missed him, though.” Lance smiles, gaze soft as it travels over Keith’s face. “He’s my friend. My ‘Person’, y’know? And I’m his ‘Person’... I don’t know. It just- It felt like he wasn’t here anymore. Obviously, I’ll still be here for him every time, however he wants me, but I think I’ll always like it better when he’s being rude and demanding. Or complaining.”

The Altean’s mouth quirks. “I’m sure I’ll get an earful about something or other when he wakes.”

That quirk rises into a grin. He loves it when Keith gives him a hard time. It’s one of his ways of showing his love, and that he’s comfortable with him. It’s one of Lance’s favorite things.

Keith stirs in his sleep, whimpers against Lance’s throat. Long brown fingers slide up to his ear, massaging the base in just the right spot. Practiced. Caring.

When he glances up to the silent woman, she’s watching, expression perfectly neutral. When she speaks, it’s not bitter, only quiet. “Why couldn’t you be what I wanted you to be?”

“Do you know, I think you’re the first person to ask me that to my face? Most people I meet just give underhanded comments about whatever aspect of myself they take issue with.” Keith settles against him once more, sinking deeper into sleep with a sigh. Lance takes a moment to smile at him. “But either way, it doesn’t matter. I am who I am, and what I am, and if there’s one thing I’ll never apologize for, it’s that.”

Lance tips his forehead to rest against Keith’s. “He calls me his ‘good man’. I need to live up to that.”

“You’d fucking better.” The woman sighs. “I need to get back up to the compound. Take good care of him for me.”

“You have my word.”

“So… My arm is dead. And your hair is in my mouth.”

“That sounds like a You Problem,” Keith mumbles, even as he shifts in a weak attempt to restore blood flow to Lance’s arm.

“The burdens of being the big spoon,” Lance murmurs, kissing the back of Keith’s neck while subtly trying to get fur out of his mouth. “Feeling any better? You’ve been sleeping all day.”

“A little. Guess I’ll sleep some more, take a bath, eat something, and then…”

“Find a way to keep busy for two movements?”

“Yeah.” Keith finds Lance’s hand slung over his waist, grips it tight. “I know I shouldn’t make such a fuss about this. It’s all chance, not a big deal if we’re not pregnant, but-”

“It is a big deal. Either way, this is going to dictate how the next few phoebs will go, or the rest of our lives. It’s an especially big deal for you, I know. All those social pressures and everything. But it’s ten quintants. We’ll get through it together, just like we do everything else, okay?”

“Okay.” A restless quiet stretches between them. “I need a bath.”

“You really, really do. Would you like me to run one for you?”

“Rude. But yes, please and thank you.”

“Trust me, I need one too.” Lance gets up, ignoring Keith’s grumbling when he does. “I’ll go first. You go back to sleep, or get a snack, okay?”

The prince kisses his cheek, sets one of Krolia’s leaf-meals next to him on their bed. Keith groans, not at all in the mood to return the affection. He’s so grumpy when he’s tired…

Ancients, Lance loves him.

When Keith finally emerges from the den, he’s freshly bathed, long, thick hair still dripping, hanging loose down his bare back. He’s a bit self-conscious, having noticed almost immediately that he’s lost a noticeable amount of weight.

Lance, while (suspiciously) vocal of his appreciation for Krolia giving them food, is cooking them some fresh fish out front, complete with bread and vegetables. Keith notices that there’s definitely extra food there, no doubt in an effort to stuff him full of nutrients.

“Hey.”

“Hey- Hi. How are you?” Lance searches him earnestly, looking for clues.

“I feel like shit. But you probably figured that. Also, my head hurts from keeping my hair braided for so long.”

“Yes, I figured that. Do you want me to dry your hair for you?”

“Yes, please. But leave it loose.” Keith hands him a towel, sitting beside him on the ground. “I could swear I almost forgot what the sky looked like.”

“Well, right now it looks gloomy.” It does indeed, overcast and thundering. The world is cast in grey light, leeching the bright reds from the earth. Lance gently squeezes water from Keith’s hair, glancing regularly at their dinner to avoid burning anything. “Apparently, the storm ‘system’ that came over when your season started is still passing over.”

“Yeah, it happens this time of year. We’re nearing the monsoon season.”

“I thought you didn’t have seasons.”

“We do, but not temperature-y seasons. We have rainy seasons, dry seasons, harvest seasons, rutting seasons, lots of different seasons, but we definitely don’t have winter.”

“Rutting seasons?”

“The elk. They start bugling and mating and all that stuff. Then they calve, and the wolves have their pups.” Keith lifts his eyes to the heavy clouds. “It’s good you’re cooking now. It’s going to rain again in just a little bit.”

Lance finishes, leaving Keith’s hair ever so slightly damp, but at least no longer dripping. The Galra disappears back into the den, comes out with their cloaks instead of the towel. Lance sighs with relief, grateful for the warmth as a chilled breeze tumbles over them. Keith snuggles close, rests his head on Lance’s shoulder.

“Thanks for taking care of me. You did a good job.”

“Aw, thanks, beloved. It was my pleasure.” The rain finally starts, and Lance sighs. “I hope our food’s done.”

“Seriously. I want to eat everything right now.” Keith grabbed the cast iron pan of vegetables while Lance pulled the rolls from the stone oven and grabbed the fish, sliding them off the roasting sticks and into the vegetable pan.

“If not, I’ll make a fire inside and finish it for us. Come on.”

They’re inside just as it starts pouring.

“So… When do we start thinking about names for our kits?” Keith sets their food by the inside fireplace, gets a fire going to keep it warm.

“Uh… I’m not sure.” Lance peels off his wet shirt, dropping it on the floor. “My grandmother dictated my and Allura’s name before my mother was even of legal age. Depending on which characters you use, ‘Lancel’ means ‘paladin’ and ‘providence’, or it can mean ‘bloody ruler’.”

“Well that’s a bit on the nose.” Keith scoops BleepBloop into his arms, scratching his little belly. “Which characters do you use?”

“My grandmother was an extremely unpleasant person. I suspect she wished for ‘bloody ruler’, but she died before I was born. My father chose ‘paladin’ and ‘providence’, most likely to spite her... What does your name mean?” Lance’s head pops out of a fresh shirt.

“No idea. I’d have to go to Earth to find that out, and no one alive knows where it is. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Do you want our kits to be like you?” Keith pulls a bread roll from the tray, tearing off half and handing it to Lance. He’ll start out slow, so he doesn’t get nauseous, but Keith’s determined to start gaining weight as quickly as he can. ‘Just in case’, as with most everything he does these days. He’s even dialed back on his training, choosing not to resume his sessions with the Blade following the end of his season.

“I’d rather they be like you. I’m untested, and have little in the way of practical skills. You’ve proven your resilience, and your strength. I want them to have that.” Lance throws himself down in his chair by the table.

“I hope they have your mercy,” Keith whispers. He hops up to sit on the table, planting one of his feet between Lance’s legs. “Your balance. Your ability to learn something new. To listen… You teach them how to be charismatic and leader-y, and I’ll teach them how to kill without remorse and make a shelter and fire starting with two sticks.”

“Oh, Ancients! They’ll be unstoppable!” Lance laughs, scales glowing with humor.

“As long as they’re better than Seran and Renli’s kits, I’ll be happy.”

“That is an incredibly low bar, beloved.” Lance laughs, kissing Keith’s knee.

“Yeah… They deserve higher expectations. Not the best, because that’s not fair, or our best, because that’s fucking stupid, but I want them to be their best, and always strive to improve. Like you.”

“Like us.” Lance smiles. “And I absolutely agree. The other side of that is that it’s up to us to figure out how our children can use their various strengths and weaknesses to succeed in the high-ranking positions they’ll eventually hold.”

“You’re Alfor-ing,” Keith mutters. “You mean we’ll take an interest in our children and be invested in their lives because we’re their parents. We’ll encourage them to pursue their passions and apply them in a way that befits their status, because we love them and are involved in their lives.”

“Oh. Right…” Lance’s ears droop just a little. He looks sad. Probably because Lance never had a parent do that for him.

“Hey.” Keith nudges the inside of Lance’s thigh with his toe. When those blue-and-pink eyes meet his face, Keith’s mind draws a blank. What does he say to someone who’s just been painfully reminded of the neglect he’s experienced? “I love you.”

Lance cracks a smile. “I love you, too.”

“You’re important to me.”

“You’re important to me, too.” Lance sighs. “Can I have a hug?”

Keith smiles, sliding off the table into Lance’s lap, straddling him as he drapes his arms over the man’s shoulders. “Absolutely.”

Keith kisses his mate, careful to work a smile into it. He forgets sometimes just how desperate Lance is to break his family’s cycle, just how afraid he must be of following in his father’s footsteps (or lack thereof). To Keith, Lance is the man who can’t wait to be a father, who’s champing at the bit to be a king. He’s the man who wants to fix everything, even if he knows it’s not possible.

Tipping forward, Lance rests his head against Keith’s collarbone, and Keith twines fingers in his hair.

“My good man, don’t be sad.” Keith kisses, lays his cheek against his head. “You’re going to be amazing, I just know it.”

“I know.” The Altean draws in a great breath. “I know. I just-”

“Shh…” Keith rubs circles into Lance’s back, somewhat alarmed by his mate’s sudden distress. “We’ll do great, my love. I know it.”

“But why couldn’t he?” Lance whispers, voice trembling dangerously. Keith’s hands freeze. “I wanted it so badly.”

“I don’t know why. But you so deserved it.” Keith’s comforting skills reach their limit. “It’s one of the many reasons I want to punch him in his stupid face.”

Lance laughs, kisses the side of Keith’s neck. “There’s the Keith I know and love.”

“Sorry. I suck at comforting people.”

“It’s okay. You’re amazing at comforting me.” Lance pulls back, smiles up at the man in his lap, eyes rimmed with just a bit of red. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Keith leans down, kisses him deeply, hands cradling his face, thumbs sliding over his scales. Lance’s hands find their way under his thighs, lifting him up as he stands, setting him back on the table.

“Mm, how much do you love me?”

“Aren’t you sick of me yet?”

“Never. Not ever.”

Keith believes his mate, one hundred percent. Not just because Lance’s hands are still on him, but because he just does.

That doesn’t at all mean that he can’t mess with the man a little.

“We should confront your daddy issues more often.”

“Rude!”

Quintants later, Lance and Keith have found something to keep them busy: their duties. After movements of neglect, Lanval reports that the people miss them, finding Alfor and Coran (mostly Alfor), less approachable. As a result, the pair are wandering through the imperial library, researching methods of population control and agricultural sustainability. Growth and capacity are constantly at war.

Krolia is on her own ‘research’ mission: how the fuck do Alteans actually think?

“Gentlemen.” Krolia nods as she approaches Shiro and Adam’s table on the other end of the library. “How are you?”

“Well enough,” Shiro says. Adam doesn’t respond, busy composing a message to an associate, named Lanval. Apparently this ‘Lanval’ serves as a sort of spy for the princes, keeping tabs on the general concerns and opinions of the commonwealth and court. “You?”

Krolia hums, lounging in a free chair. “I learned something quite interesting today.” Shiro hums. Adam momentarily lifts his gaze. “It would seem that Crown Prince Lancel isn’t quite what I imagined.”

“Mnh. sounds about right.” Adam doesn’t seem to care how useless his comment is. “How exactly did you finally come to that conclusion?”

“He said he missed Keith while he was in season.”

“Ah.” Adam finally tears his attention away from his desktop, smile more of a smirk than anything else. “He would. He’s sentimental like that.”

“I assumed he liked it any way he could get it, but it seems otherwise.”

“It’s an Altean thing, I think,” Shiro says. “They’re a reserved species, but generally respectful toward their spouses, despite their promiscuity. They can also be very playful with their mates, particularly in private. I’ve observed Keith engaging in playful banter with Lance on more than one occasion. I imagine Lance values that.”

“Lance values what?” Keith peeks his head around a bookshelf.

“You’re affectionate degradation of his character,” Adam says, smiling at the young prince. “Apparently he missed you during your season.”

Keith snorts. “What a dork.” The prince snatches up a scroll. “Hey, dork!”

“Yes, beloved?!” Lance calls from a different aisle.

“You’re a dork!”

“And you’re stuck with me, so what does that make you?” Lance rounds a corner. “Come help me with this. Apparently one of our mines on Arus is compromised. We need to write an emergency missive to close it, because apparently neither the colony nor the natives have the authority to halt production.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Keith frowns.

“We can revisit native citizens’ rights after we get them and our colonists out of dangerous mines, okay?”

“So long as we revisit it… Guess we’d better get to work. Also, we should bring back some windchimes for Hunk’s new kit. Kits love them.”

Krolia watches the two head off to wherever their desk is, Lance taking Keith’s hand, the two bickering back and forth about which one of them is more of a dork. Keith’s tail curls around the altean prince’s ankle, ultimately preventing his escape as he drives a hand into the man’s white hair, leaving it sticking up in all directions.

The prince’s shrieks carry throughout the quiet room.

Adam props his head on his fist, eyeing Shiro with amusement. “Any other anthropological observations you’d like to share, captain?”

“You’re not as chilly as you want everyone to think.”

“Excuse me?” Adam glares, bristling.

“Settle down.” Shiro sips his tea. “I was speaking of your entire species, not you. Though it is interesting that you-”

“Stop talking, or I will make you.”

Krolia settles back in her chair, watching the pair banter themselves, though not in nearly as boisterous a fashion. But before long, her eyes and ears slide in the direction of her son and his problematic mate.

It’s long been her belief that the best thing someone could be is someone like Akira. Someone who’s equal parts frustrated and optimistic, and not above putting their foot down and digging their heels in like a stubborn child. Able to learn, able to understand, able to reach out and extend themselves to others, no matter how different.

Creeping up to observe the pair, watching Lance pour over documents and old, outdated policy, Krolia can’t help but realize that the young Altean is in many ways quite similar to her own mate, right down to the way he’s always giving Keith at least a modicum of his attention, even if it’s to annoy him.

She hates to admit it, but her son could do much, much worse.

With that in mind, Krolia approaches the boys' table. "Have you investigated inspection and mining maintenance procedures and regulations? Perhaps there is some underlying cause."

Lance leans back in his chair, eyeing her carefully. Finally he nods. "I haven't." There's so much caution in his eyes. "Perhaps you'd like to assist with this? We'd appreciate it."

Krolia nods, waiting for Lance to transfer the appropriate documents. A quick scan reveals the problem. "This is extremely outdated, given our peoples' current understanding of physics and changes in mining practices. Let me pulls some documents and I can help you boys draft something new."

Keith wraps his hands around Lance's arm, whispers something in his ear. Lance smiles, nods. "If you would, we'd be very grateful. If you can do that, then we can come up with a plan to help implement new procedures, and provide any resources needed to transition to more appropriate protocols."

It's an unspoken thing, the way Lance gestures for her to sit at their table upon her return, the way he makes room for her books beside his own. When Keith makes tea, there are three cups. When they call for a servant to bring them food, Lance requests three meals. A simple choice -her simple, agonizing choice- means that once again, Krolia has an open seat at her son's table.

She doesn't miss how Lance nudges Keith, the silent look they share. She doesn't miss Keith's smile as he turns back to his letter.

Worth it.

#LoveAftertheFact #LAtF #klance #galtean au #altean lance #galra keith #adashi #altean adam #galra shiro #voltron legendary defender #vld

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justlookatthosesausages · 4 years

Text

“Lift the Spirit” :: a fluff/angst post-Frozen 2 Elsamaren fanfic

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Chapter 6: Every inch of me is trembling

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The Northuldra tied ropes around Victor’s wrists in a firm tug and pushed him through the Forest. Elsa had warned Arendelle through a message from Gale, telling them about the outcome of the battle, and asking to summon soldiers at the Elemental Stones as soon as possible. They would all go back to the kingdom with him as a prisoner.

The Sami warriors were walking with their weapons pointing at Victor, who was complying and silent. Some Northuldra were muttering insults towards him for his actions, and poking at him with their staff. However, Victor didn’t get angry nor struggled. He had surrendered long ago.

Elsa looked at the battlefield, and sent a mental note to Nokk to erase all the traces of her ice shields and arrows with a magical wave. The Water Spirit nodded internally, taking this opportunity to congratulate the Snow Queen on the issue of the battle.

She then turned to her family. Because of their injuries, most of them had trouble moving and they needed to be healed urgently. Elsa asked Pebble to pick them up and bring them to the camp. Thankfully, the Giant hadn’t been far, as he always was in the vicinity of the Dark Sea to play with Nokk.

Elsa helped her family members to keep their balance and stand in his palm as they were rapidly transported. If she weren’t deeply concerned about their wounds, she would have laughed hard at how they were all holding tight to Pebble’s fingers. Ryder had panicked yelps as they were moving fifteen meters from the ground. While the others had hands on the rock fingers, he was clinging to it with his legs as well, ignoring his pain in profit of safety.

When the adorable Giant softly put them down on the ground near the camp, he made Elsa promise that she would never make him live that again.

The Snow Queen chuckled, but then her expression changed. She gestured to the Northuldra for immediate help, and quickly explained that she needed people to heal wounds and others to go get the reindeer and horse mounts further in the forest. Jongu confirmed the orders, obeying to the Fifth Spirit.

=======

“Ready? Hold on to my hand if you need to squeeze something.” Invited Elsa.

Honeymaren sulked. “But that will hurt you.”

“I don’t mind.”

She watched the healer come close to the bed after she poured some liquid on a cloth. The blonde gulped at the amount that she had put. Agat was the oldest Northuldra healer, but also the most ruthless. The leader wasn’t scared anyway. Or at least, she pretended not to.

At the light of the lanterns in the hut, Agat bent over the brunette and pressed the cloth on the wound of her hand. Honeymaren wanted to look, but at the second the liquid penetrated her skin, her eyes flew up to the ceiling, and she groaned loudly in pain. She however forced herself to not squeeze Elsa’s hand, and the blonde shook her head at how the moment was inappropriate to be her well-mannered self.

“Good, good. It’s done.” Said Agat.

She started bandaging Honeymaren’s hand as the latter breathed heavily. Elsa passed a hand in her dark hair, as to congratulate her for going through this. She placed the bangs aside and even tied it in a pretty braid so she could see the even prettier face of her lover completely.

They exchanged a smiling gaze, and Elsa took some steps back to let Agat to her work. While the healer took great care of Honeymaren, Elsa started to stare at her in anguish.

“I hate that.”

The leader frowned, puzzled.

“What?”

“Seeing you injured.”

Honeymaren observed her wife. Elsa now was standing near the bed and crossing her arms, slightly curled on herself, like she was folding in fear. The brunette knotted her eyebrows in a sad and worried expression.

“Hey. Snømus. I’m okay. It’s just a--”

Elsa gave her a look. Honeymaren gulped.

“Yeah, I was about to say ‘it’s just a scratch’, but you’re not gonna buy it, uh?”

Elsa’s eyes filled with sadness and worry again, and she curled up even more, avoiding to stare at her.

“But it’s being taken care of.” Assured Honeymaren, tilting her head to search for her gaze, a technique she got from Anna. “Also, you’re not the reason behind it. Uncross those arms, please.”

The blonde did a pout, and Honeymaren encouraged her with a smile. Eventually, Elsa’s muscles lost a bit of tension, and she relaxed a bit, standing up normally.

Honeymaren lifted the hand that wasn’t bandaged to put it in Elsa’s. “We’ll all be okay. You don’t have to worry about us.”

“You really shouldn’t move”, commented the healer when she saw her doing an effort.

Honeymaren frowned to her. “I’ll touch my wife if I damn want.”

Agat gulped and returned to her attentions, not daring to contradict the strong leader. Elsa’s lips stretched in an amused smile. When she saw that Honeymaren caught it, they softly giggled, and the blonde stepped forward to hug her. That way, she avoided her wife to make any movement, and the brunette felt like she was instantly healed at the scent of Elsa’s skin in her neck. Her hair also smelled divine. How come it smelled divine? Why did it smell so clean even though they all sweated like hell during the battle?

“That’s unfair.” Mumbled Honeymaren with a smile against her neck.

“What?” Asked Elsa as they parted.

“Nothing.” Grinned the brunette.

The Snow Queen then sighed. “It breaks my heart, but I’m gonna leave you for now. I’m gonna check the others’ state.”

“Alright.”

Elsa leaned down for a soft kiss, like she always did, but Honeymaren grabbed her ice fabric collar to bring her closer and kiss her deeper, like she always did as well. The kiss however was abnormally long and full of tenderness. Agat blushed as she forced herself to look elsewhere and pretended that the basin behind her was very interesting. When the two wives parted, and slightly gasped, Elsa looked into the two hazelnut irises with emotion.

“Honey, I…”

“Just go. We’ll talk about it later. We’ll have plenty of time.”

Elsa’s face went sad, and she gulped. “Okay.”

A thumb stroking her cheek as a warm hand cupped her face made her stir away from her thoughts. She smiled, and kissed Honeymaren’s palm.

“See you.”

“See you.” Smiled the brunette.

She watched her leave the hut, and when she did, both Elsa’s and Honeymaren’s smiles vanished.

No, healing from what had happened on the Dark Sea shore wouldn’t be easy.

Elsa fidgeted with her hands as she walked away from the hut, feeling bad about leaving her wife’s side for the first time since the event. Because she knew, even if Honeymaren didn’t talk about it yet, that she had thought for a moment that she died on the shore. She could almost feel the gaze of the brunette in her back, as it surely didn’t leave the door, still concerned and thinking about her even if she left the room.

The blonde took a long inhale, trying to change her mind. The closest hut had Kristoff and Ryder in it, and she smiled as she entered. Kristoff had been taken care of and he was asleep, knocked down after the strong medicinal herbs he had been given to cope with his head injury. She went to his bed and placed a hand on his shoulder, inspecting his face with sad eyes. He had a calm resting face, but Elsa was perpetually worried. Of all of those who had helped Elsa facing Victor, her brother-in-law had the worst wound. However, the healers attested that it wasn’t a lesion, and that he would be okay in a few hours. Turns out that he, indeed, had a think skull; it wasn’t just a manner of speaking. Elsa smiled at that fact, and turned to the same healers she has been talking to earlier, who now were taking care of Ryder. One of them lifted his head.

“Kristoff will be fine.” Smiled Nainnas, a botanist who was crushing herbs in a mortar for his fellow Northuldra, lying on the other bed with his pants off. “However, I need your help for Ryder.”

Elsa blinked. She knew very little about healing, and as her wife had underlined it for the past years, she very easily faltered and despaired when she saw injuries up close. The amount of times she fainted or nearly did when trying to assist the Northuldra healers every now and then was almost comical, but Honeymaren would never discourage her. The Snow Queen frowned with determination, and nodded anyway.

“Sure. What do you need?”

“It will take me a few minutes to prepare this concoction. But Ryder’s knee has swollen due to his injury.”

“What?? It has?!” Panicked the Northuldra, seating up on the bed with wide eyes to look at his knee.

“Stay down.” Groaned the other healer, keeping him down firmly, and Elsa smiled at his scold.

It clearly wasn’t the first time of the night Ryder was told to stop moving, and the blonde was amused to see the similar nervosity between the two Nattura siblings.

“As I was saying…” Sighed the botanist healer, “We need to seal off the injury before it gets too infected.”

Elsa gulped. ‘Oh, for Ahtohallan’s sake, please don’t make me sew the skin back together’, she thought, feeling blood leaving her face. She had purposely avoided to look at Ryder’s knee until now for this very reason.

“Do you want me to freeze it?” She asked, her voice slightly trembling, hoping this is what Nainnas needed her for.

“No, quite the opposite. We need fire. Heat is a very helpful way to scar over.”

Elsa took a long moment to understand what it had to do with her then. Her speciality was cold, not heat-- Oh.

Nainnas gave her an amused smile, but didn’t say anything. He knew that everyone still was in shock, and it might take a while to think.

“You want me to call the Fire Spirit.”

“Yes, please.” Smiled the man.

Elsa internally sighed of relief. She closed her eyes to search for Bruni’s soul, and she felt him several meters away in the camp. He was playing with some children to appease them now that the danger was gone, and helping them go to sleep as time now reached almost midnight. Elsa smiled at the little salamander’s kindness and care, and called him through a mind nudge.

Bruni jolted up, and beamed - quite literally - at the idea of joining her. The children laughed as he dashed through the camp in zigzags, and almost barged in the hut, his tiny belly waving as he breathed rapidly in excitement of helping Elsa.

When he saw her standing near one of the beds, he squealed and ran to her feet, where he rubbed and cuddled like a cat. He then climbed along her leg and jumped in her open hand. With happy grunts, he curled against her fresh skin, and exhaled a lot of joyful energy, which warmed Elsa’s heart in every way.

She smiled. “Yeah, I’m happy to see you too, buddy. Look, I called you for a specific reason.”

She kept him in her hand and turned to Ryder. “See that injury?” She pointed, talking with a voice similar to the one she used to talk to young children, and Kristoff would have made the remark if he were awake. “Could you burn Ryder’s skin, very softly, to help seal his wound?”

Bruni made an approving peep. Ryder didn’t really like the way she had stated that out loud, and gulped when he saw Elsa approach her arm with him in her palm. But at the sight of the salamander’s adorable eyes, he giggled.

“Okay, are you sure about this?” Asked Elsa.

Ryder nodded vividly.

“Are you ready?”

Another nod.

Elsa put down the salamander on his bare leg, and the tiny Spirit pawed his skin in an appeasing gesture.

He gave Ryder a sorry look, then it became a determined one as he looked down at the knee. He spat a long but soft burst of fire, his flame licking the skin of the injury.

The Northuldra screamed loudly then hissed, startling, but Bruni held firmly to his leg.

Elsa passed a hand along his arm. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, and he’s sorry as well. He is. But we have to do this.”

“I know…” He whined through gritted teeth.

Finally, the Fire Spirit was done sealing the wound, and it looked better already. While the healers took care of his leg and bandaged his knee, Bruni jumped back in Elsa’s offered hand, and climbed to her shoulder to observe the man too. Ryder’s eyelids soon felt heavy, a result of both the relief of pain, the soothing care of the Northuldra, and the tiring day. Even Bruni yawned, and Elsa found it adorable.

“You were amazing.” She whispered, too scared to wake up the two injured men now. “Thank you.”

The salamander squeaked happily, and curled to sleep on her shoulder, lulled by her natural cold.

Next, Elsa went to the neighboring hut, also used by healers. Eydis was sleeping on the first bed she saw, and she noticed that someone had untied the young blonde’s dutch braids so she could sleep better. The princess had a patch applying ointment on her skin where she had been touched by the dark magic, at the top of her shoulder.

Elsa smiled as she approached her niece, and bent to put a kiss in her hair. At the touch, the girl stirred, and Elsa jumped up and worried, thinking she shouldn’t have done that. However, Eydis smiled and turned slightly to fall back to sleep. The Snow Queen had been standing still with her mouth pressed in a thin line, not daring to breathe to make sure she didn’t wake her up. She exhaled discreetly.

“You’re ridiculous.” Came a smiling voice on her right.

Anna was looking at her from the bed she was laying on, wearing the same infirm tunic than her daughter. She had asked that Eydis and her would be healed in the same hut, so she could keep an eye on her daughter while she slept.

“And you look very epic with that bandage.” Replied the Snow Queen.

Anna grinned proudly, looking at her battle injury in her elbow pit. “Thanks.”

She then stared at her sister meaningfully. “You’re complimenting me to hide your worry about my health, aren’t you?”

Elsa sighed as she walked to Anna’s bed. “You read in me like an open book.”

“What can I say?” Smirked the redhead with a shrug. “Kristoff doesn’t call me book lover for nothing.”

There was a silence. Elsa seemed bothered by the topic, and therefore Anna decided to talk about something else.

“Did you know that the elbow pit also is called antecubital fossa? Awesome, uh? Remind me to add it as a word for charades night.”

It managed to bring a smile to Elsa’s lips. “I forbid you to do that. Besides, now that Eydis is playing with us, it will be impossible to guess.”

“The joke’s on you, she is the one who taught me that earlier.”

Elsa blinked. They turned to the princess, who was sleeping peacefully. When she turned back to Anna, she was beaming with maternal pride.

“She’s a real genius.”

“And she fought really well.” Added Elsa. “See? I told you we wouldn’t regret to bring her along.”

The Queen rolled her eyes. “It shows that you’re not the one who raises her. Do you have any idea how many times she scared the hell out of me doing dangerous stuff?”

“Well, just like her mother does with me.” Grinned Elsa.

She sat on the bed to wrap her arms around her sister. “I’m so glad that you’re okay.”

The Queen melted in the hug, closing her eyes with a soft sigh. She was just upset that she could hug her with only one arm.

Anna felt something warm against her neck when Elsa was against her, and smiled when she recognized the familiar sensation of scales. She parted the hug with a chuckle.

“Hey there little guy.”

Bruni blinked tired eyes open, and yawned, then grinned happily when the redhead scratched his head. He however went back to sleep afterwards, and Anna observed him tenderly.

“Long day, uh? Being a Spirit doesn’t prevent from tiredness.” She said, pointedly, staring at Elsa.

“You’re right.” Said the Snow Queen, and she gently took Bruni off her shoulder, then put him on a fresh spot on a shelf, so he could be comfortable in his sleep. He mumbled a happy squeal.

“You did well”, chuckled Anna. “Having a salamander on your neck while you sleep isn’t the best option.”

Elsa frowned in confusion at her sentence, but also at the gesture she just made, moving aside on the bed as if she was giving her space to lay down.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s adorable, but he would have bothered you, no? Isn’t it why you put him aside before going to bed?”

“I’m not going to bed.”

Anna’s eyes widened.

“Wait, what?!”

“I just put him aside because he was tired. You were right, being a Spirit doesn’t prevent from tiredness. Gale and him did a really good job, guarding the camp for so long. He deserves some sleep.”

The redhead looked at her in utter bewilderment. “And don’t you think that you deserve sleep too??”

“What do you mean?” Frowned Elsa.

“WHAT DO I--” She scolded, angry, but immediately lowered her tone to not awaken her daughter. “Elsa, for the love of gods, do you hear yourself? You need to go to sleep too. It’s late, we’re all tired… Come lay down, you dummy, I don’t even know why I’m explaining this to you right now.”

She lifted her hand to grab Elsa’s arm, but the elder stepped back to avoid it.

“I’m fine.”

“What the hell are you doing? Come here, you infinite dork--”

The blonde stepped back again when she tried to reach her, and Anna was too tired and wounded to stand up from the bed.

“I wouldn’t be able to find sleep anyway.” Said Elsa. “You all got injured somewhere, and I didn’t get anything… I feel very bad about it.”

Anna groaned. “Oh my goodness, Elsa, that’s--”

Someone knocked at the hut, and they stopped talking to turn to the entrance with a synchronized blink.

“Come in.” Invited Anna.

To their surprise, Honeymaren entered, and she closed the door behind her. The brunette saw Eydis sleep and she smiled.

“I just wanted to say goodnight to Elsa.” She said, keeping her voice down to not wake her up.

Anna snorted in a puff. “Oh, well, good luck with that, because that idiot refuses to sleep.”

The blonde twirled to her younger, and gave her a deathly stare.

“What??” Said Honeymaren, walking to them.

Her wife sighed longly, and that sounded more like a grunt that anything else. However, in opposite to Anna, Honeymaren didn’t get angry, and placed her hands gently on Elsa’s arms, looking at her with soft caring eyes.

“Love, you should get some rest. You’ve been through an exhausting process.”

“You two as well.” Retorted Elsa. “And you know I won’t go to sleep as long as you don’t rest first.”

Anna snorted. “And we know that you won’t go to sleep at all if we do that.”

Elsa pouted. She had been busted.

Honeymaren kept her hands on her wife’s arms, and smiled tenderly to her. “You have to rest, now.”

“I’ve been resting long enough when I was unconscious.”

Anna and Honeymaren snapped wide eyes.

“You can’t be serious!!” Exclaimed her sister.

If she physically could, she would have accentuated it with a movement of the arms.

Honeymaren sighed. “Look, it’s past midnight. We’ve had a very overwhelming day.”

“Yes, which is why you two have to go to sleep.”

“You need it as much as we do.” Insisted the brunette.

“No I don’t. You’re injured, and I’m not.”

The Queen scoffed. “You almost died!!”

Elsa didn’t react, so Anna massaged the top of her nose with an upset grumble. Honeymaren looked at them two with a sad smile.

“We can’t change her mind, Anna.” She stated. “You and I both know how stubborn she is.”

Anna sighed heavily, and laid down the bed. When she saw the space that remained, the leader approached timidly. “Can I sleep with you?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Invited Anna.

“That way, Elsa will be able to keep an eye on us both. Happy?” Smirked Honeymaren as she went under the pelts next to Anna, making sure not to hurt her or herself while she did.

Elsa nodded quietly with a soft smile.

It didn’t take long for the two women to fall asleep, they were truly exhausted.

When Anna started snoring and Honeymaren was so deep into slumber that she had that adorable face that Elsa loved, the blonde sat down on a stool and observed them.

However, as they sadly expected it, Elsa didn’t rest at all for the whole night. She spent the next hours wandering back and forth between each hut to check on the wounded, and talking with the Northuldra in charge of standing guard.

=======

After spending the day waiting for Arendellian forces to arrive, the Sun started to set over the Forest.

Victor limped as the soldiers led him to the prisoner cage they had put on a wagon. He was still injured at the foot, a pride that made Ryder and Eydis exchange a smirking gaze when he passed by them.

Honeymaren went to the center of the Northuldra camp to talk to her tribe.

“The danger we had been living in for the past days is no more.” She announced, her voice strong and powerful. Elsa admired her from where she was, laying against a tree.

“The enemy has been defeated. The battle is over. We won. Each of you had been of precious help, and I would like to thank the Spirits as well. Thank you all. I will go to Arendelle to attend Victor’s trial, as the representative of the Northuldra. He will face justice and pay for his crimes, I vow to it.”

Several Sami cheered, and others clapped.

“Now, may you all find peace until I return. I leave my brother in charge.”

Ryder blinked. “Wh-what??”

Anna was surprised to see he hadn’t been warned in advance. When Honeymaren walked to the little group ready to go, he went to his elder sister. “Are you sure about this? I’m injured at the knee, I can’t really be of much help...”

“I’m sure. And you will be a great leader anyway, Ryder, don’t you worry about it. Besides, since when does an injury prevent you from herding?”

Ryder blinked, and the others were confused too. “Are you saying that managing a tribe is the same thing that taking care of a reindeer herd?”

Honeymaren smirked as she put a hand on his shoulder. “Now that we’re all safe, the whole tribe will celebrate with a big feast and a ceremony. In that situation, it is exactly like keeping an eye on a herd.”

They laughed, and she nudged him before leaving to join Anna and Elsa.

“Take care.” He said to Kristoff.

“We will keep you informed.” Smiled the King.

Eydis waved goodbye to him happily, and they all walked away to the wagons, surrounded by Arendelle guards.

Anna walked with her sister and Honeymaren on each side, distracted by the visual of their shadows moving in front of them on the flowery ground. They were long and stretched by the lowering light of the sunset that warmed the back of their necks.

“What a week, uh?” She joked.

Honeymaren nudged her shoulder against hers. “That’s for sure.”

They chuckled together, and the brunette felt Elsa’s shoulder against her. She thought that she was nudging her as well, but in fact, Elsa was losing her balance.

Anna saw her shadow swaying on the side, and both turned to the blonde, whose eyes weren’t really focusing anymore.

“And you had quite a week indeed.” Smirked Honeymaren. “Let me hold you.”

“I can walk.” Mumbled Elsa.

Anna and Honeymaren exchanged a smile. Not only that was a sentence they now knew meant exactly the opposite, but Elsa’s voice had just betrayed her. She even was rubbing her eyes. It reminded Anna of her son when he refused to want to go to bed.

“Hmm, I don’t believe the ‘I swear I’m fine’ speeches anymore.” Said Honeymaren. “I’m gonna carry you to the wagon.”

“Honey, this won’t be necessa-AH!!” Suddenly yelped the blonde, as her whole body had suddenly been taken off the ground.

Anna laughed as Honeymaren easily swift her off her feet and put her on her shoulder. The brunette giggled as Elsa struggled to break free from her strong hold, and they walked to the wagon where Kristoff and Eydis awaited.

The man and his daughter laughed at their arrival.

“I didn’t know we had to deliver a sack of potatoes.” Teased Kristoff.

“I hate you…” Groaned Elsa weakly, upside down, in Honeymaren’s back. “All of you.”

Anna faked an offended gasp. They all boarded in laughter, and the Northuldra leader softly placed her wife on one of the benches, next to Anna.

“Maren, there is no need to be mollycoddling me.” Grumbled Elsa in her tired voice.

“Holy-molly-what?” Said the woman.

“Yep, she’s delirious when she’s tired.” Added Anna, shaking her head.

“I’m not! You two are constantly taking too much care of me.”

Anna passed her arm above the edge of the wagon and leaned on it to look at her amusedly. “And did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, you deserve that care?”

Elsa mumbled again, this time inaudibly.

Anna nudged Honeymaren. “Perhaps we holly molly her too much.”

The brunette cackled, and nudged her back.

“You two have bandages on the arm, you shouldn’t be doing that.” Frowned Elsa.

“Oh my gosh, she is right!” Exclaimed Anna, and the others could hear that she was being sarcastic. “Do you know what it means, Maren?”

“What?” Smirked the brunette.

“We’re bandages twins! Bandages buddies! Budd-ages!”

Honeymaren laughed loudly.

“I really hate you.” Mumbled Elsa.

It was an obvious lie, especially since her wife’s laugh, echoing in the woods to her ears, had made her heart feel like it was floating above the clouds. She smiled softly as the wagons departed.

=======

They had snacks aboard the wagon, and Honeymaren noticed that Kristoff and Elsa passed each other some bread without even consulting each other, in a simple stare. She had noticed this before on a Friday night.

“You two make quite a team.” Grinned the brunette, pointing at them. “Are you sure you didn’t meet before Anna introduced you? Your alchemy during game nights is unfair.”

“I know.” Sighed Anna dramatically. “When we pick the teams randomly and they are together, I always feel like it’s doomed.”

“Not always.” Chuckled Kristoff. “We’re really not good at classic charades. Drawings, however…”

“Yeah, no wonder why you guess them so easily, though.” Sighed Anna. “Have you seen the amount of details Elsa puts in her drawings?! Who the hell takes the time to do perspective and shadows?!”

“And how come you can’t get points when you’re teaming up with her?” Asked Eydis, because her argument was weird.

“I’m too busy admiring them to actually guess.” Mumbled Anna.

They laughed.

“To be fair, our team is only good in family games nights because we balance each other’s skills. That’s all.” Shrugged Elsa.

“The legendary ice bros.” Smirked Anna. “I’m proud of that nickname.”

“I like it.” Complimented Honeymaren. “And I’m sure it will stick.”

“It sure will.” Grinned Kristoff. “Just like ice.”

He laughed, and Elsa as well, then they fist bumped right in front of Anna.

“Oh my gods, you didn’t…”

“We totally did.” Grinned Elsa.

The redhead sighed. “That’s like, the hundredth ice pun this month.”

“And not the last.” Giggled Kristoff.

“I swear, Maren, they’re unbearable. Now you understand why I named them that.”

“Oh, three puns a week is nothing compared to the jokes this dork does each and every-- ouch!”

They laughed when Elsa tapped her arm.

“I like those puns.” Smiled Eydis.

“No, not my niece too!” Whined Honeymaren, and the princess giggled. “I swear, her plays on words could make people run away. Oh, we should have used that as a technique against the monsters!” She falsely exclaimed.

Anna laughed out loud.

“Do you want me to make it hail on you two?” Smirked Elsa.

She then remembered the fight. “By the way, Anna, for a moment there, I thought you were counting down the number of creatures you took down.”

The redhead shrugged, not actually denying that accusation. “Doubting of my stamina?”

“Certainly not. I recall you were having some fun while you fought.” Smirked Elsa.

“I’ve often heard the Queen saying that everything is a competition.” Said Honeymaren.

“And it is!” Proclaimed Anna, stubborn.

Elsa rolled her eyes. “No matter what, I’m proud of you.”

“No matter the score?”

“No, I meant that I’m proud of you all.”

“Hmm… That sounds like someone who slayed the least monsters.”

Some gasped and some laughed, and they continued to argue about that topic playfully. The sister cuddled in a shared laughter. The discussions went about different things on the road, until Anna felt that Elsa’s cuddle had gone heavier. She turned, noticing that her sister had been silent since a moment. The blonde’s eyes were closed. Her head had tilted to her shoulder, and she had just fallen asleep. Anna smiled tenderly.

“She hasn’t slept at wink all night, uh?” Guessed Kristoff, staring at her with a smile.

The other nodded. The Northuldra melted at the sight, then unrolled a blanket from the wagon to put it on her wife’s relaxed body.

“Sleep well, you ethereal selfless dork.”

=======

When Elsa woke up, she was blessed by the sight, feeling and presence of Anna sleeping in front of her, and Honeymaren’s arm going around her waist while she was spooning her from behind. The Snow Queen sighed of content. Now that was the best way to wake up ever, surrounded by the two people she cared about the most.

Apparently, they had put Elsa in bed when they arrived in Arendelle on the following afternoon, and ended up taking a nap along with her. With a happy quiet squeal, she rounded her back to cuddle closer to Honeymaren, placing her arm above hers, and looked at her sister.

“What would I be without you two.” She whispered.

She then felt Honeymaren stir, and turned around to her.

“Hey.” She greeted when she saw the brunette blink.

She smiled when she saw Elsa and started to stretch, though still remaining laid down.

“Hey you.”

Honeymaren was delighted to wake up in front of her wife, especially when her two azure blue eyes were staring at her this lovingly.

“Did you sleep well?” Asked Elsa with a tender smile.

“I should return the question to you. You were a real sloth yesterday when I took you out of the wagon and to this bed.”

“I was deep into slumber for this long?”

Honeymaren grinned and nodded on her pillow.

“Since when do you know about sloths?” Chuckled the blonde.

“With a sister like yours?? It’s impossible not to have heard a thousand praises about sloths when one knows her. Anna constantly talks about how much she loves them.”

They laughed, but it was softly to not wake the redhead up, as she was sleeping right next to them. In fact, they had been talking in whispers, making sure to not disturb her sleep.

Elsa turned to watch Anna. She wasn’t graceful at all between her tangled hair, her absurd posture and her open drooling mouth, yet the elder’s face lit up with happiness.

“I’m glad to see she’s okay.” Sighed Elsa, seeing that her bandage wasn’t red with blood, even though it was dated from the previous evening.

Northuldra’s medicine and care was efficient, and the Snow Queen was thankful.

“How’s your hand?” Inquired Elsa, turning to her wife again, her natural concern not leaving her.

Honeymaren smiled to that trait. “I’m fine. Better.” She could even wave her fingers a bit, and she showed it. “There’s one sad thing about this wound, though.”

Elsa’s heartbeat got faster. “What is it?” She worried.

The brunette grinned. “I want to kiss you deeply, but I only have one hand to cup your face.”

She moved closer, and closed her eyes as she softly held Elsa’s cheek to land her lips on hers.

Elsa’s heatbeat got even faster, but for a different reason; a blush filled her cheeks, and she felt flustered. The kiss was long and intense, and she closed her eyes too. Damn, that touch meant so many words. So many emotions. She could feel how much they had to talk about. How the event on the shore still marked Honeymaren. The kiss was warm with joy to finally be reunited, yet it was frigid with all the sadness still present in the brunette’s heart.

That didn’t take away any of the passion in the kiss, and soon Elsa returned it with equal force. She moaned on her lips, leaned her body in and grasped Honeymaren’s long thick hair.

“Holy Odin, what time is it?!” Shrieked Anna suddenly, and she jolted upright behind Elsa. The latter almost had a cardiac arrest at the sudden shout, and she startled away from the kiss.

Apparently, Anna had been waking up without them noticing, then immediately realized by the light bathing the room that the afternoon already was well under way. Honeymaren laughed out loud when she saw Elsa switch from tenderness to letdown, then laughed again when she saw Anna jump up, stumble and fall to the floor a few meters after the bed.

“I’m fine!” She yelped, standing up swiftly. “I need to go at once. I have a meeting with the staff at 5, then I have to meet Mattias at 6, and the warden for Victor’s cell in the prison, and, oh my goodness I’m so super late… I’ll see you later bye!!”

She left the room in a storm, rushing to her dressing room, yet she gently closed the door behind her. Now that the old bedroom of their parents had been turned into the guest bedroom that Elsa could use when she visited, Anna took extra care of its state.

The Snow Queen blinked confusedly at Anna’s sudden and loud exit, staring at where she left, then she laid back down next to the Northuldra leader, her head elbowed on the pillow.

“So, where were w-- Wait, I smell really bad!” Suddenly noticed Elsa, now that her nose was near her skin. “How the hell can you kiss me in those conditions?! Gosh, I haven’t washed in days!” She exclaimed, shocked and also alarmed to see that Honeymaren wasn’t saying anything.

The brunette puffed. “You always smell like licorice mint, love. What are you talking about?”

Elsa grabbed her pillow and threw it to her. “Stop it! You incorrigible flirt.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Whatever. I’m going to the bathroom. I’m feeling like I need to shower.”

Honeymaren rolled her eyes as her wife quickly stood up from the bed, and urged to go to the other door of the room, that led to a private bathroom. Less than a minute later, water was flowing, and could be heard from the bed. Honeymaren sighed. Now the sheets felt really empty.

She shrugged; at least now she could spread her legs and arms all she want. One thing she noticed and always struck her was how, even if she had a starfish posture and stretched all she could, she didn’t reach the ends of the bed. How big were those Arendellian beds? That was crazy.

Yet, she couldn’t tell if she preferred the overlarged bed of the castle or the smaller one in their hut. Both were great for cuddles, in their own unique ways…

She rolled above the sheets for a moment, listening to the sound of water pouring in the next room behind the wooden door, then she stood up and walked around.

Honeymaren blinked at the sensation coming to her as she did. It had been a while since she last visited Arendelle, even more sleeping there, so she had to get used to it again. Elsa was right when she said that the brunette hadn’t come in a long time; she was so busy with Northuldra leader duties that she only hoped in some Fridays for family game nights, and never stayed much longer. Now, it was like she discovered it all for the first time.

The castle’s interior truly drove all of her five senses crazy. How come everything, absolutely everything, smelled so nice? Did they wash the chairs with lavender?? For the sheets, towels and even curtains to be perfumed, that, she could understand. But why, and how, can a pedestal table released such a fragrance?? And it wasn’t due to the flower bouquet that was placed on it and changed with fresh flowers every day, she could tell.

And yet, all of this was only smell. Sight, hearing, touch and even taste were going through a whole experience as well. She felt the light bathing the room, giving the place a surreal atmosphere with its dust floating in the warmth of air, that she could sense on her cheeks, where she could also sense the humidity of the fjord that was passing through the open window. She felt the distant sounds of merchants from the Arendelle village mixed with the distant sounds of sailors loading and unloading their ships or chatting joyfully with their peers. All of this was overwhelming, and Honeymaren could perceive on top of everything the delicious smell of kransekake getting baked downstairs in the kitchens, invading her palate in the best way and almost making her drool.

Honeymaren blinked in utter astonishment, and shook her head. She apparently had been daydreaming for a long time, because the bathroom door opened behind her, and she talked to her wife without looking at her, busy inspecting the breathtaking details of the painting frame on the wall.

“Elsa, I never got to ask you, and sorry for being so blunt, but… How in Spirits’ names did you live like this?”

She turned around to get the answer from her lover, when she got struck by a sight that propelled all of her previous emotions away in a flick. Elsa appeared like she was walking right back from the heavens.

The blonde was drying her hair with an embroidered bath towel. Its bright white cotton and purple and green motives seemed to glow as she rubbed her bangs with it in the daylight. Elsa’s neck and cleavage still were a bit wet, water drops rolling down along her body, stopping to another towel that was tied around her chest and pouring until her ankles.

Honeymaren stared at her with wide eyes, her hazelnut irises inspecting every single inch of perfection that was offered to her in this moment. Somehow, a flash of the very first moment she had talked to Elsa came to her mind, seeing her younger face next to a campfire. A confident, strong woman, who exhaled a goddess aura, but who also showed traits of a vulnerable and quiet character; giving Honeymaren the immediate feeling of Elsa being the most balanced person she had ever seen. The first minute the blonde had started talking, she showed both great intelligence by her words and eloquence, and genuine curiosity and naivety with her questions and interest for the Northuldra culture. And in that very moment, Honeymaren swore to herself that she would always protect her no matter what, just like she knew that Elsa would surprise her countless times.

The brunette realized that she hadn’t been breathing since she turned around, and gulped to avoid choking on her own saliva.

What was she saying again? She lost track of her own thoughts - and even the possible existence of her brain - when she saw Elsa approach. The blonde looked like the most attractive divinity with shining white-gold hair and a single towel on her body that seemed like a toga. With her seductive walk and slightly swaying hips, Elsa seemed to have come down from above and beyong to judge her sins.

Honeymaren blinked, and her mind returned to its previous state. Soon the smells, noises and all the rest came to her senses again, putting her back in the uneasy feeling. The Snow Queen noticed it when she was close enough to see her face.

“What is troubling you?” She asked in a soft voice, her eyebrows knotting with worry at the discomfort of her wife.

“This castle… It’s overwhelming, with all its features. I can’t believe you used to live here for so many years. How did you not go crazy with everything? It’s all so… Overly perfect.”

The blonde has a chuckle. “Well, it helped as a distraction from my powers when I was younger.”

She shrugged, and she did it so exaggeratedly that her towel shifted with the move. Honeymaren’s eyes snapped wide and she rushed to go forward and grab the top of it, above Elsa’s breasts.

The blonde startled. “Uhm…? What are you doing?”

Honeymaren’s lips pressed in a thin line. “I don’t…”

She was about to say ‘I don’t think I can survive seeing you naked by accident right now after all the emotions that went through my body and mind, because such a final sight could easily kill me’, but she settled for a simpler explanation.

“I worried that your towel would fall”, she mumbled, her cheeks burning with blush as she put her hands away.

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s fine. We have pins in the bathrooms that are here for this purpose.”

She showed where the pin was, firmly tying the towel around her chest, but Honeymaren preferred not to look lower than her neck. She nervously looked away, and pretended to smooth her beige tunic.

“Honey, are you okay?”

“Uh?”

When their eyes finally met, Elsa was grinning openly. “You seem… Distracted.”

“I’m good.” Gulped Honeymaren. “Really good. A bit hungry. Are you hungry? I’m hungry. It’s hungry. It’s a snack. Like, it smells like… It’s nice… Snack. I…” She sighed, both to take her breath and because she was aware that her ramble was filled with slips. She tried to focus and talk normally. “Can you smell that delicious baking? We should go down for a snack.”

Elsa smirked but bit her lip to force herself not to comment on the behavior of her wife.

“Sure. I’ll just change first, and then we can go.”

“Change?”

She was surprised to see Elsa grab an actual dress and go behind the screen. It had been set there on a hanger, and Honeymaren thought until now that it was Anna’s, because it was deep red.

“I’m not gonna use ice. Anna ordered this dress for me last month.” Elsa explained, her voice masked by the panel. “She talked about it a hundred times in her letters. I want to make her happy and try it out today.”

The brunette heard her fumble behind the changing screen. “Ahtohallan, why does this have so many ribbons?” She muttered. “Ah, there. I have to get used to loops again. I feel like a child trying to remember how to tie shoelaces. There.”

She turned around the screen.

Honeymaren was so wrong to think that a naked Elsa would have been the reason of her death that day. She hadn’t seen her wife wearing actual fabric in a long while - which she really didn’t mind at all - and when Elsa walked to her, all her mental connections ceased to function.

Above it all, she was astonished to see that cherry red suited her so well, and judging by Elsa’s unsure expression, it was the very first time she was wearing such a color. The dress had a simple corset base, but a lot of beautiful enhancements had been added. First, it had many ribbons that fell and looped and seemed to float here and there. Second, it was elegantly cut at the hips, which enticed Honeymaren to no end. In Elsa’s typical style, it was was floor-length, though the brunette’s eyes stopped at the hands of her lover when she saw that she had joined them nervously in her center, keeping a regal posture.

Elsa really shouldn’t feel any hesitation about this dress; she looked utterly stunning. She turned around so her wife could judge the back as well. Honeymaren gasped silently when she saw that the dress was a bit open in the back, from the middle to the kidneys, revealing her silky skin.

Elsa finished turning, and looked at Honeymaren timidly.

“How does it look? Does it fit me?”

The leader blinked. Of course Anna knew Elsa’s measurements perfectly. Of course she did. Now that was just unfair. Honeymaren however felt like all of her word lexicon had just been tossed by the window. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

The Snow Queen giggled. “A bit slow after naptime, uh?”

Honeymaren frowned. That insult brought her right back on Earth. “No. I’m not. It’s just… YOU!” She suddenly exclaimed, pointing at Elsa with both arms.

The blonde grinned bashfully. “Don’t say anything then. I got it from your expression.”

=======

At the end of the afternoon, Elsa walked around the castle, searching for her younger sister. It was raining heavily outside, so she knew that it’s not where she would find her. Even if rain wasn’t an obstacle to fun when she was younger, and Elsa often found Anna running in the puddles in the courtyard, the Queen now preferred to listen to the sound of raindrops from indoors.

When the blonde saw that Anna was neither in her study nor the kitchens, she had a thinking pout as she listed the remaining places.

“The library.” She suddenly said out loud with a grin.

But her smile vanished away. Anna went to the library alone only when something was wrong.

She went to knock to the door, and a distant voice invited her in. Elsa was happy to see the redhead sitting by the window, but she closed the door behind her.

The room was a bit dark, for the Sun was hiding behind the clouds and the sky a strong grey. Anna was sitting in the alcove and looking outside. The floating dust of the room, which normally matched really well with the color of her hair and the clothes she wore, made the atmosphere gloomy and sad.

“Are you alright?”

Anna turned and forced herself to smile, which Elsa cleverly noticed. “Yeah, why?”

It would have been blunt to say ‘You’re obviously lying’, so the elder simply approached, joining her hands in front of her. She wasn’t sure if Anna was in the mood for touch, so she only smiled.

“You know, we didn’t really get the time to talk about it.”

The redhead gave her a quizzing frown.

“About what happened on the Dark Sea shore. What you felt when I passed out, and… To put it in your words, when I almost died.”

Anna gulped audibly. But, in opposite to her elder, when a question was making her emotional, she didn’t look down or away; she kept her eye contact with Elsa, but with an bigger weight to it.

“It… Felt terrible. I was terrorised.”

Her voice was weak and cracked. That visibly was what she had been thinking about before she arrived. Elsa’s face twisted in a sad and sorry expression. “I know. I mean, I imagine. I can’t know, but I…”

She gulped, in lack of speech. Her younger looked at her silently, and Elsa felt her throat tightened.

“I can’t know. Excuse me for bringing the topic, I shouldn’t have--”

“No, Elsa, it’s fine.” Smiled the redhead. “Well, it certainly wasn’t, but I’m glad that you want to talk about it.”

The Snow Queen realized that Anna’s smile now was sincere. It was like all she needed had been for Elsa to mention it.

“I’m happy to see that you are not afraid to ask me.”

Elsa’s expression melted. It’s true, she had changed. A few years ago only, she wouldn’t have dared to open such a discussion, especially about death. It took them ages to finally sit down and talk about their parents.

She had a soft smile, and walked further to sit and cuddle with her next to the window. “Of course I want to talk about it. I want to know how you feel.”

She then briskly moved away. “Sorry, maybe you need some space.”

Anna grinned and grabbed her wrist. “Come back here, silly. Of course I want you to stay close.”

They smiled and sat against each other, watching the rain drops fall along the window. It reminded Elsa of the times when they would have rain drops races, and she caressed the glass with her fingers.

A silence passed.

“I already addressed the topic with Honeymaren earlier. Can we talk about it, please?”

Anna put her head on Elsa’s shoulder.

“Only if you promise me one thing.”

“Sure, what it is?”

“That you won’t judge me if I start crying while I talk about how I felt.”

Elsa missed a heartbeat at that sentence. She gulped, and held her sister tighter.

“Of course I won’t judge you.”

“Good.” Said Anna’s voice, and it was firm and strong. “Because it’s important that you realize I saw you faint and not respond to my calls two times in one day.”

The blonde felt like she got punched right in the guts at the highlight of Anna’s point of view on her behavior. She detached from the cuddle to look at her sister. “Anna, I…”

“You what? You’re sorry?” Finished the redhead, not detaching her eyes from the window.

Elsa’s eyes sparkled with sad tears. “Yes. A thousand times. And I can’t even begin to imagine what it was like for you.”

“Yet it wasn’t your fault.”

“Excuse me?”

“Okay, going to Ahtohallan and go through those repressed memories was a really dumb decision of yours, especially when you stubborn ass decided to go on your own with no backup. But the fact that the previous Fifth Spirit had this many hidden memories? Not your fault. You couldn’t have predicted it, and that’s why it was this much to take for your body and magic. And, speaking of magic, that’s why it also wasn’t your fault about what happened on the shore. None of us expected that, once your magic is taken away, you risk hypothermia. Well, to be fair…” She added, rolling her eyes to the ceiling, “This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t that extra and didn’t craft a perfect armor. But I’ll never criticize you on that, quite the opposite. And of course, the magic extraction was not your fault. You did all you could to prevent it. In fact, it’s with your argumentation that Victor changed his mind and came back on his acts. So, I should actually be thanking you.”

Elsa startled of disbelief. Her younger now was grinning, which contrasted with the expression she had at the beginning of the conversation.

‘Thanking me??’ She thought, stunned.

“No, wait, this is not going the direction I wanted it to go…”

Anna smirked. “Why? What were you expecting?”

Elsa was now pouting. “You’re not supposed to defend me! You’re supposed to scold me! Tell me I was wrong, doing all that! Tell me how hurt you are! You… You’re not supposed to be your… Open-minded and gentle and caring self!!”

The Queen grinned. “So, from what you’re saying, I shouldn’t be myself?”

Elsa blushed out of frustration. “I didn’t want-- I mean, of course I love it when you’re like that, but-- I didn’t want you to be… So nice! I had meant to console you, to soothe you, not…!”

She was at loss for words now, and sighed. In fact, tears had started filling her eyes, and Anna tilted her head in sadness.

“Aw, you tiny thing. You really thought I was going to blame you, uh?”

The blonde shivered as she inhaled, trying her best not to ironically be the only one to cry. “I thought you were going to be angry at me, to be sad, to… Damn, Anna.”

The latter chuckled at how overtaken Elsa was. She put a hand on her shoulder. “Need I remind you that I’m the mother of two children? I’ve been through an infinite number of discussions like those. To balance things out has become a second nature to me.” Smiled the Queen.

Elsa blinked longly, and her tears got chased away. Anna continued.

“My mind is still filled with sadness, and my heart is still heaving with sorrow. Yes. I can’t deny it. But I never felt any resentment towards you, silly.”

The elder looked at her like she was a living miracle, and had a heavy sigh. “I owe you so much, Anna, I swear on Ahtohallan.”

The redhead playfully shrugged. “Meh.”

Elsa chuckled, and bent to kiss her sister’s forehead. Anna smiled tenderly at the sensation, closing her eyes.

When she opened them, Elsa was looking at her with a grin. “Can I ask you something? Something that may change your mood?”

Anna saw where this was leading, and chuckled. “The answer is yes. You want to ask me if I want to build a snowman, right?”

Elsa suddenly widened her eyes. “OH MY GODS.”

Anna frowned. “What, you’re genuinely surprised that I found out? That’s really easy--”

“No, I mean, Olaf!! I just thought about Olaf!!”

Now Anna blinked, lost. “...And?”

Elsa suddenly stood up, standing away from the alcove, and she started pacing around, her hand passing through her hair. That was an alarming mannerism, and Anna’s eyes widened. Elsa couldn't believe she only realized that fact now.

“I have to check on Olaf! To make sure that he didn’t melt when I lost my magic! Oh, who am I kidding? He surely melted. Oh gods…”

“No, wait, Elsa…”

The Queen was about to reassure her in saying that her magic didn’t go away during the transfert, just like her weapons additions and clothes didn’t disappear. Olaf was certainly safe. But it was too late; Elsa was frowning in that specific way when she mentally conjured her magical creatures.

In a little gust of snow, Olaf appeared right in the middle of the library, in between them, falling from mid-air on his butt. He bumped on the floor in a mix of yelps and tinkling metal, his backpack bouncing with him. His tiny pan, that hanged to a fastening, tinkled against the floor as he finished his roll face down in a flat stop.

“Ouch.” Winced Anna, her outstretched arms closing in fists.

“OUCH!!” Exclaimed Olaf, standing up and rubbing his head, placing his carrot nose back. “Waow! What the heck just happened?!”

He looked around, first recognized the Arendelle castle library, went ‘hey!’, then saw Anna and went ‘hey!’, then saw Elsa and went ‘HEY!!’

The last exclamation was filled with anger.

“Olaf!” Smiled Elsa, sighing in relief. “I’m so happy to see that you’re okay…”

“Why did you teleport me?!” Shouted Olaf.

The two women startled at his reaction.

“I was right into an important exploration! And I had just found the perfect camping spot for tonight! AGGHH!”

He let out a long and upset whine, and picked up his fishing hat from the floor to put it back on his head.

Elsa was confused, but above all, sorry.

“Olaf, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, I… Look, I can bring you back exactly where you were at. Do you have the location?”

The living snowman stared at her like she was totally dumb. “No, I don’t, that’s the whole purpose of exploration! I went at a place where no one thought of tracing a road, I only know that it’s down West!”

Elsa blabbered as she confused herself in apologies. At the corner of her eye, she saw that the Queen was gripping her mouth not to burst into laughter.

“WHY did you teleport me?!”

“I’m so sorry, Olaf, I just wanted to know if… If you were okay, and…”

He saw the weather through the window behind Anna, and let out a long grunt. “Ahhhhhhgh, and it’s RAINING here? It will take me forever to go back to that place!!”

Anna grinned behind her hand. “Yeah, it’s a good thing you have this fishing hat to protect you from the rain. Where did you get it anyway?”

“That’s a long story. And it includes poker techniques I’m legally not allowed to disclose yet.”

Elsa was set aback. “Excuse me?”

“Elsa!” He exclaimed with a grunt, pointing at the blonde with one of his twigs, turning completely to her, so Anna took it as an opportunity to laugh even more. “You shouldn’t have done that!! I’m a grown-up now!! I’m independent!! I can live my own life!!”

The Snow Queen was overtaken by the situation. “I…”

“Awww, look at who’s rebelling against his mother.” Cackled Anna.

“I’m not his mother!” Blushed Elsa.

“I’m not her son!” Blurted Olaf.

Now Anna laughed even more. She had to hold herself to the edge of the alcove not to fall.

Olaf and Elsa argued for a long time until, in a huff, the snowman picked up his stuff, set his backpack, and walked past her to open the door and go outside.

“I got a lot of walk to do now. Bye.”

He slammed the door, and could be heard mumbling as he went down the stairs in a sound of metal tinkles.

Anna wiped her tears as she stood up, still wheezing. Elsa was still standing up in front of her, and was stunned.

“Now you know how I feel with Eydis.” Grinned the Queen.

=======

“You think I didn’t hear when you called me ‘tiny thing’?” Smirked Elsa. “I’m two years and a half older than you!”

Anna laughed in the corridors, and her laughter echoed against the walls. “I couldn’t help it. Did Maren ever say something about that adorable pout you make when you’re upset?”

The Snow Queen sighed. “About a hundred times, yes.”

“There.” Winked Anna.

Her expression then changed as they were walking.

“How did it go, with her?” She asked timidly. “The conversation about that time we all thought… You know.”

Elsa had a sad smile. “Just like she understands me like no other does, I know her like nobody else, so it was easy to start talking about that topic after our snack. But that doesn’t change how hard it was to address her feelings, and how the whole moment traumatized her.”

Anna gulped. She walked closer to circle her elder’s shoulders.

“Elsa…”

“I’m okay. We’re okay. One thing I’ve learned from all of this, is that I need to show you how alive I am.”

The redhead smiled. Her sister’s tone had been playful, but also sincere.

“I want to spend as much time as possible with you two, and actually the whole family, to forgive myself for that heartbreaking moment. And help you heal from it.”

Anna’s face melted in a touched expression. She slid her hand in Elsa’s, which the latter appreciated, and she squeezed it.

They kept walking on the carpets. The gloomy weather outside gave a dimmed natural brightness, so the staff had lit the lamps on the walls. It particularly enhanced Elsa’s red dress.

“It looks good on you!” Complimented Anna, her cheeks full with her big grin. “I’m so happy to have ordered it this perfect.”

Elsa looked away bashfully. “I don’t know… It looks a bit too red, no? Its color remind me of blood.”

Anna puffed. “Calm down, drama queen. It’s just that you’re not used to wear warm colors.”

The blonde had a wince. “Maybe that’s why I’m feeling so uncomfortable.”

Her sister’s eyes widened. “Hey, if it’s scratchy or too frivolous or anything, feel free to change, Elsa, please.” Insisted Anna, her happy voice switching to care.

“I’m fine.” Lied Elsa. “This dress is too gorgeous to take it off.”

Anna smiled. She loved the adjective.

Elsa felt conflicted as they walked together to the lesson room to talk to Eydis and Isak before heading to the dinner table. She genuinely appreciated Anna’s gift, and the dress was really beautiful, but she felt weird in it. And yet, weird wasn’t really the word… It was like she had a queasy feeling, like she was not feeling herself. She shook her head to dismiss that sensation, and smiled to her nephew and niece when she entered the room.

Elsa barely had the time to salute the smiling tutor when Isak jumped from his chair and ran to her to tackle her waist in a hug.

“Auntie!! I’m so happy that you’re back!!”

“Me too.” Smiled Elsa, brushing his hair. “And I almost didn’t make it…”

Anna gave her a strong look that meant ‘Don’t you dare joking about it this early’, so she stopped.

“You smell nice!” Complimented the boy.

“Why, thank you.”

It was a natural reaction from the child, because Elsa had taken a shower a few hours before. However, what was strange is that she didn’t feel more clean than before. She did smell nice, but it was just a fragrance. In fact, she felt like she was still dirty, and didn’t notice until now because she got distracted by her discussions with Honeymaren and Anna. Now, she was dying to run back to the bathroom and rub all of her skin severely.

Elsa detached from the children after greeting them, trying to change her mind by observing the room. She smiled at what surrounded her. The royal children had lessons in the room where the portrait of her father was hanged, representing him in official outfit as he lifted the orb and scepter during his coronation. She lost herself in the memory of a younger self, on the morning of her own coronation, when she had trained to do that very gesture without losing control over her power and freeze everything.

Before leaving, the tutor had opened the doors of the balcony to let some fresh air come in. Two children racking their brains doing mathematics problems could produce a lot of heat. While they were busy chatting with their mom to talk about their lesson, Elsa walked on the balcony, humming in joy at the welcome damp of air. She loved how the specific smell of the fjord reminded her of Arendelle, and brought a feeling of warmth within. It also reminded her of the salty breeze of the Dark Sea every time she would go to Ahtohallan, so in all cases, the sensation caused by rain in the distance and the smell of petrichor always filled her with delight.

“It’s great to have some rain.” Said a voice behind her.

Only a voice could be this positive about a type of weather that many despised; when she turned, she smiled to her sister.

“It will make the farmers up the hills happy. Crops needed this.”

Elsa grinned as she put her forearms on the railing, still sheltered by the roof. “I love that you think about all those little details. You make a remarkable Queen. Our old geopolitics teacher must be pale with envy to see your talent.”

Anna giggled at the compliment. “He actually retired. I saw him in the village not so long ago. Besides, talent is passion with practice. I simply like it when farmers are happy. Good soil also means more food, and better food.”

“And you love food.” Smirked her elder.

“Yep.”

They laughed for a moment. Elsa passed her hand on the railing. “I remember that this balcony was the very first place where I saw the guests coming to my coronation.”

The redhead smiled, looking at the gates below. “This is a really great spot to watch the kingdom indeed.”

“I was mortified with fear, though.” Chuckled the Snow Queen nervously. “Waow… This feels like a century ago. A lifetime, even.”

“It is, in a way.”

They observed the rain together, until Eydis’ voice resounded behind them.

“Mother, can we play with Aunt Elsa before dinner?”

Both women turned around. “Oh, sweetie, no. We have to go. We came here to walk down with you. It will be served soon.”

“Please, please please!” Begged the teenager.

Anna put her arms on her hips. “Wasn’t the level of adventure those last days enough to satiate your adrenalin?”

Eydis giggled. Isak intervened with a dramatic dismiss hand gesture. “It’s okay, ‘dis. I’m sure that Auntie cheats at games anyway.”

Anna scoffed, and Elsa blinked in surprise at his nerve. But quickly, she remembered that Isak was a very sore loser, even worse than her sister. With a mother like theirs, it was no wonder.

“Elsa never cheats at games.” Chuckled the Queen. “She’s even very bad because of that.”

Elsa looked at her with a raised eyebrow, wondering if that was defense or mockery from her part.

“It’s obvious that you all have never played kyykkä with her.” Scoffed a voice at the entrance.

They turned to see Honeymaren leaning on the door frame, her arms crossed with sarcasm.

“She keeps tickling me so I miss the throw when she teams up with Ryder.”

“Wait, you cheat?” Blinked Anna.

Elsa bit her lip. “Maybe…”

“You’re aware that the best cheaters never let you know that they cheat, right?” Underlined Honeymaren.

Anna’s jaw dropped like she just realized a lifetime trickery.

“Wait, what the heck is kyykkä?” Asked Eydis.

“A game with wooden pins. It’s a combination of chance and skill, which your aunt both have, and it’s a nightmare for me when I’m not in her team. By the way, I’m certain that when Ryder and her are together, they plot against me. Even if we’re seven teams to play, they still do their best so I gain zero point.”

The children giggled in unison.

“Anyway, what are you two devils waiting for? It’s dinner time!”

They all walked down to the dinner table. While they set the excited children down, Elsa chatted a bit with Kristoff, thanking him for everything. To ease her worry, he joked on how deeply asleep she was when they arrived in the early afternoon.

“We’ll have to make sure that she actually sleeps tonight”, laughed Anna, who naturally had been eavesdropping.

Honeymaren added a mockery as well once they sat down. “Jongu told me that he saw you wander here and there all night. Even the Spirits tried to put you to sleep, but what can they do when their unifier is stubborn as brass, uh?”

“Stop it.” Mumbled Elsa as she helped herself with lamb.

She then went in a very bad mood for the whole dinner.

Elsa started seeing defaults about everything. The messy behavior of Isak at the table when he played with his food, the way Eydis toyed with her fork, the way Anna tapped with her knee against the table, the loud talks Kristoff and Honeymaren had, everything made her go nuts. When the staff arrived with new courses, Elsa saw mannerisms in Ronny’s moves that she started to hate, she noticed how the food wasn’t perfectly symmetrical in the dishes, and she kept being distracted by the coughs of the maid who was serving wine. The blonde also observed elements of decoration that she never criticized until now, and that she, suddenly, couldn’t bear to see anymore. It all made her nauseous, and she had to force herself to eat.

Elsa was actually surprised by her own temper when they all finished dessert. Why was she acting like that? They only had been joking when they talked about her sleep, and their remarks were just tease, she knew it. Then why was she so grumpy? Why did she only see what’s bad?

She was on her nerves, and something was up. But what?

The conversations continued between the members of her family, but her mind had gone elsewhere.

=======

Elsa kept pacing back and forth in the guest bedroom. She was conflicted, questioning herself, and her thoughts were bouncing around in her brain in unstoppable hops.

She sighed heavily as she came to a stop, realizing she better do so or the flooring would be pressed where she kept walking.

Then her fingers fidgeted on their own accord, and she grumbled when she noticed; she had to put an end to that behavior.

The Snow Queen had pretended to go to the bathroom while the others were having tea in the living room after dinner, and now she had spent too much time here… They would soon find it suspicious.

But before returning to them, she really wanted to understand what was going on, and why she was feeling like this.

As she closed her eyes to focus, she could tell it was linked to magic. It wasn’t related to the Spirits, though, for she could feel their common joy as they rambled around the Forest, even from the Arendelle castle. So what was it related to? Ahtohallan? No, it was easy to tell that it wasn’t about the ancient glacier. Was it her ice and snow magic, then?

She opened her eyes, and conjured some snowflakes in the air from her left palm to test it out and see how she would feel. In the split second before she did, Elsa realized that she hadn’t been using her magic for the last two days, simply lacking of opportunities. When she projected the snowflakes, they floated as usual, but an odd sensation roamed her entire soul. She felt oddly filthy. That same sensation of dirt she had experienced before came back immediately. It was like she was covered with mud, or marked with soil, or even mucky. Yet she knew that her skin was cleaned, and her dress was entirely new. She looked down at her body, touching the outfit at parts. No, the whole fabric exhaled nothing magical that could make her feel that way. But damn, did that color started to piss her off. It really looked like blood.

As she absentmindedly made her snowflakes twirl around her fingers in a flick of the wrist, an habit she had while she was thinking, a more precise sensation came to her mind. It was like she had sticky fingers. She vanished the magic with a frown, and rubbed her skin. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“Then why do I feel like that?” Muttered Elsa out loud. “This is driving me mad!”

She clenched her fists and stretched her arms down in frustration. An outburst of magic came from her core, so sudden it surprised her; it also had a very specific vibe that Elsa had never experienced before, even when she discovered herself new ice and snow skills. It snapped in her like she had triggered something, and it felt like she had unclogged something deep inside.

The very millisecond she felt it pass her wrists, she hurried to bring all her focus in her palms to stop the magic in its race. The weird magic obeyed, and she begged for it to retract and dissipate.

Once done, Elsa’s eyes were wide open in panic, and she panted as her heart beats rose in speed. That wasn’t magic that coursed that fast through her arms. Or rather, it wasn’t…

She suddenly twirled around, grabbed the door handle to open the door and ran in the corridor. She almost fell in the stairs with the speed at which she was going down; but she didn’t care. She grabbed her dress up to run even faster, grabbed the handle of the living room door, ran to her sister, but didn’t grab her. She even briskly put her hands along her thighs, doing all she could to absolutely not touch anyone.

“Waow, Elsa, are you okay?” Blinked Anna.

Eydis turned around in a happy jump from the couch where she was sit on her heels.

“Ah, here you are! Papa is talking about a machine in America that allows you to talk to someone who isn’t even there. That’s totally not true, right? That can’t exist, right? I’m sure that the word tell-a-fun isn’t even real. He’s messing with me, right?”

“It’s pronounced ‘telephone’”, corrected Kristoff as he rolled his eyes. “And it’s very real.”

“You can’t believe everything that the newspapers say, Kristoff.” Laughed Honeymaren.

“Is it magical, then?” Asked Isak to the brunette.

She heard his question, but didn’t respond. She had just noticed Elsa’s sudden entrance, and clear distress. She frowned as she tried to understand what was wrong with her wife. Elsa had isolated Anna in a corner.

“You look like you have seen a ghost.” Worried Anna.

“I need to talk to you. Please. Alone. Right now.”

Everything stopped in Anna’s brain at those words. The last time Elsa pronounce those exact words, with this intensity, with this alarmed eyes, was a lifetime ago. And it was right before her coronation party went upside down. Anna had always wondered how different things would have been if she hadn’t been a recalcitrant idiot and accepted to follow Elsa, because she would have revealed everything about her 13 years of secrecy and silence.

The redhead instantly put her cup down, and nodded firmly. She invited her to lead the way, already following her nervous wreck of a sister in another room. As they went out under the others’ confused gazes, Anna gave a look to Honeymaren. Nevertheless, the leader nodded wisely, not insisting on following them. If Elsa insisted on the privacy, she was willing to respect it.

Anna closed the door behind them as they entered the council room, thinking it was best to not go to her study upstairs. It was too far, Elsa’s concerning behavior needed to be taken care of immediately.

As soon as she turned to watch her elder, she saw that Elsa was in a state of complete stress. The redhead rose her hand as she came closer.

“Woaw, woaw, hey hey hey, Elsa, look at me. Breathe. Try to breathe.”

Elsa was panting heavily, switching in between clenching her hands, stopping to watch her sister, then pacing in the room, then stopping to watch her again.

“Elsa, hey, no matter what it is, I love you, okay? Try to calm down. Look at me. There. Great. Keep your eyes on me.” Indicated Anna, smiling as she followed her instructions.

Elsa closed her mouth and continued to breath heavily through her nose, but she followed Anna’s steady nods that helped her catch a regular breath. Finally, she settled to a calm attitude.

“Theeeere. Better, uh? Relax.”

Anna smiled and was about to step closer to enlace her, when suddenly Elsa took a step back and clenched her hands together.

The blonde clenched her eyes shut and closed her mouth in a thin line, shaking no with her head. She was in a lack of words, or rather, she didn’t want to say ‘Don’t touch me’.

“Oh.” Reacted Anna, and she felt like her heart sunk in her chest. “Okay.”

She accepted that choice, but she didn’t like it at all. She didn’t like what that meant, and she didn’t like the state it was putting Elsa in. She reluctantly took some distance.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to, Elsa. I understand. I’m staying by the door, I promise I won’t move. But I support you. You can tell me anything.”

The blonde opened her eyes and looked at her in a mix of sadness, worry and thankfulness.

“I… I know why I feel weird.” Stated Elsa in a croaked voice.

“Okay?” Said Anna, not understanding what she was referring to, yet listening closely and encouraging her to continue.

Elsa had stopped touching her hands to put them along her body next to her hips, trying her best not to clench her fists.

“At first, I felt dirty, even after I took a shower. Then I was feeling odd about the color of this dress… That I can’t dissociate from the concept of violence. I felt really uncomfortable with my own body, like I was out of my shoes, though not literally, you know? And I kept having this sensation of filth, of grime… It’s like my whole body and mind is sticky with a matter I can’t figure. I felt nauseous during meal, and I kept reproaching stuff to everyone and everything. In general, I’m not feeling myself at all. Anna…”

The redhead was devastated by Elsa’s confessions and analysis, and gave her an interrogative look.

“What?”

“I think that Victor gave me all the magic he had in him. I don’t only have my ice magic back. I have dark magic too.”

Anna’s teal blue eyes widened in terror, and she gasped.

Elsa twisted her face in a sorrowful expression, and she lifted her arms, then regained the angered state she had been in when she was in the bedroom. Instantly, the same horrible feeling roamed her veins and raced up to her open hands.

Ink black goo slowly spilled out of her palms and fingers, thick and sticky. It fell to the floor and splashed heavily at her feet.

Elsa gulped and took a breath to avoid crying.

“I have dark magic too.”

*******

HIATUS

*******

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medu-nefer · 4 years

Text

Whumptober 4: Caged

The Dragon Prince, Ethari-centered, Ruthari, gansters AU

(After a year of writer’s block, I finally managed to spew something out, and while it’s so not up to my old standards [please forgive the rusty English; also, it was about 2-3 AM], it’s gotta do for now. Perhaps I’ll rewrite it after the event is done and I have more time to write for all the prompts I have planned out and in the end been unable to get to.

Still, Ruthari content is Ruthari content, so here goes nothing.)

*~*~*

Ethari stared at the people filing into his workshop with an odd sense of detachment.

He had been working on a necklace for one of his clients, something worthy of a grand engagement, when the door burst open and six people came in. He could see two more through the windows but the pair remained outside.

The people inside were well-dressed in dark green, blue or purple suits – and carried knives and guns, quite openly. They scanned his workplace and made sure nobody else was there, and then one of them approached.

The sides and back of his head were shaven, leaving an artistically messy strip of pale blond hair at the top. His eyebrows were thick and dark, and his hazel eyes gave Ethari a quick once-over.

The young craftsman couldn’t help his gaze travelling to the two earrings adorning the man’s left ear before looking into his indifferent eyes.

‘Come on,’ the man murmured, gesturing with his head to the door. As he took a step back to make space for Ethari, his hand ventured towards one of his guns.

Ethari might have been bigger than any of the men – courtesy of indulging in blacksmithing every now and again – but he knew better than to argue. He stood up from his stool and walked to the door. The two people stationed there barely looked at him, focused instead on the street. Once outside, he paused and let the man lead the way. He noticed two of the people remained in his shop.

As they walked through the alleys, Ethari couldn’t help his growing agitation. He didn’t know where they were going or why. He didn’t know whether his skills were needed or if he was being taken for some other reason. He didn’t know if something had happened elsewhere in the city.

He noticed people staring at them from afar but once they walked closer, everyone got out of their path and averted their gazes. The Moonshadows may have been known to never cause unnecessary trouble but it wasn’t wise to get in their way without a good reason regardless.

After all, who in their right mind chose to have contacts with gangsters?

The corner of Ethari’s mouth wandered upwards at the thought and a small snort escaped him, earning him the attention of the woman and one of the men, but he just shook his head.

Finally, they arrived at the warehousing area and he was ushered into one of the buildings. Outside, it looked quite decrepit but on the inside the conditions were better than in most ordinary houses of Silvergrove.

One of Ethari’s eyebrows twitched when he noticed a lone desk and chair in the far corner, far enough away from a few massive tables in the centre of the room – and very far from the entrance.

The leader of the group approached him and gestured towards the desk. ‘Make yourself comfortable. It’ll take a while.’

Without any real choice, Ethari walked over and let himself inspect the furniture. The big tables were made crudely, without any finesse. After all, it was pretty clear they weren’t there for aesthetic purposes.

The desk was an entirely different story, though. There were ornate decorations etched into the wood – ebony, if Ethari wasn’t horribly mistaken. The chair was high-backed and upholstered, a single silken cushion placed on the seat. There were sheets of paper, pencils, pens and measuring tools placed neatly in one of the desk’s corners.

Ethari looked back to the four people watching him closely and sat down with a heavy sigh. He reached for the paper, immediately noticing its ridiculously high quality.

What should he do? Design some weapons, probably. He had never planned on taking his career in this direction but he would be lying through his teeth if he said he hadn’t made anything deadly.

He reached for the pencils and started sketching out an idea he had been entertaining for a while. It was of a knife that could be turned into a hook or have its blade retract altogether to conceal its purpose, depending on the gestures of its user.

For the first hour he ignored a bunch of people that came in or left the warehouse, and focused on his schematics. But eventually, his attention started straying from his task. He watched the woman from before, took in her blue suit, the braided hair with exquisite ornaments. He knew she noticed him looking but ignored him completely.

Growing more and more frustrated – the wave after wave of worry and trepidation making him increasingly more irritable – he decided to abandon his project and focus on something else. Something he had been putting off for too long.

He grabbed a new sheet and started sketching out two circular objects. Finally allowing himself to focus on the positives in his life, he remembered all the good things the last couple of years had brought him. He had never expected to find himself in that place but he was more than happy with how things had played out.

His lips pulled into a soft smile when he created something delicate and peaceful rather than lethal.

Suddenly, there was a presence at his side and he looked up to see one of the other men coming to a stop next to him. His suit was dark green with black elements. He had half of his hair braided at the side of his head, while the rest remained loose. He glanced at Ethari’s new project and smiled.

‘Can’t wait, eh?’ he asked in a thick accent.

Ethari gave him a little smile and shrugged. ‘You know how it is.’

The man nodded curtly. ‘Let me know if you need anything. We’ve run into some trouble with the Katolis’ scum so there’s some issues with the net but I can’t see why you shouldn’t make yourself at home here while we wait.’

‘Thank you, Skor. Unless you can tell me what’s going on, I’m good.’

Skor winced and looked away. Ethari knew what that meant. The information was there, he just wasn’t privy to it. Of course. He was kept in a confinement, with guards watching his every move. What else did he expect?

Suddenly, there was commotion at the entrance. Three Moonshadows entered, limping and swearing. The soles of their boots left bloody footprints on the polished floorboards.

‘What happened?!’ the leader of the group yelled, striding towards his wounded comrades.

‘What the fuck do you think happened, Callisto?’ one of them snarled. ‘Fucking Katolis’ scumbags set an ambush. That fucker Viren orchestrated it. Killed at least three of us. We should have killed him when we had the chance.’

Callisto took a step back when the man started coughing up blood, and got his people’s attention. ‘Ram, take care of them. Andromeda, you go up on the roof and prepare a lookout. We need to know if we’re approached and by whom. We might need to help some of ours get here. Skor, we haven’t heard from the Boss. Find him.’

As he spoke, a few more Moonshadows entered the warehouse and Ethari felt the walls coming down around him.

He really was locked in a wooden box, with more and more gangsters coming in and watching him, while out there, something horrible was happening. He was in a cage and couldn’t get out. He couldn’t—

Tunnel vision and laboured breathing. He had to grab the back of the chair he had been sitting on just moments ago lest he fell. When had he even gotten up? He was shaking and couldn’t focus on anything beside the overwhelming need to go out of there and do something, before it was too late.

But all of a sudden, the door burst open once more and a lone figure walked inside.

‘Boss, you’re fine,’ Callisto said, relief clear on his face.

The leader of the Moonshadows wore a three piece suit and an unbuttoned pea coat on top of it. They were all in dark blue or green shades, matching each other perfectly. His hair was white, long and partially braided. His piercing turquoise eyes searched the inside of the warehouse and focused on Ethari.

The young craftsman barely registered what was happening before the gangster’s long legs carried him through the room and into Ethari’s personal space. He began to relax only when he felt hands on his cheeks and lips crashing with his own.

His hands latched onto the other man’s vest and pulled him closer, the excruciating weight of fear lifting off his shoulders.

‘Runaan,’ he murmured against his lips, earning himself a bone-crushing embrace.

‘I’m sorry for worrying you,’ Runaan whispered. ‘Viren was making a move against us and I needed to know you were safe.’

‘I was scared something happened to you.’

Runaan pressed their foreheads together hastily. ‘I promised you I’d be fine. Don’t worry.’

Ethari gave him a weak smile. ‘Somebody has to.’

Unwillingly, they let each other go but kept their hands intertwined when Runaan turned to his people and started giving orders. Within moments, they had their plan of action and most of the gangsters left to do their part to ensure Katolis wouldn’t be able to deal any more damage.

Runaan was making plans for the immediate future when he noticed Ethari’s designs on the desk. He reached for one of them and picked it up, a warm smile adorning his face.

‘Think you can make these before the wedding?’

Ethari tore his gaze away from Runaan’s beautiful face to the two wedding rings he had sketched out.

He felt a grin splitting his face as he pulled his fiancé into yet another kiss, knowing he’d steal plenty more later on, when all the Moonshadows were safe and accounted for, and the two retired for the night.

’Why don’t we see?’

#whumptober2020 #no.4 #caged #tdp #the dragon prince #fic #gangsters au #ethari #runaan #ruthari

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songsofbloodandfire · 4 years

Text

Affirmation

The quiet nightly routines were the ones that Sana had come to appreciate the most. There'd been a time when she'd felt stifled and chained by domestic life but now she was beginning to see if for the precious thing it was. More so when it gave her the chance to bond with her children.

Khod'a was settled comfortably in front of her, the boy half asleep and purring as she worked a comb gently through the soft curls of his hair. It'd grown some since he'd come to live with her, edging on too long for a boy and making the already rather pretty child look even more androgynous or even feminine depending on his clothes. Clothes that were leaning more and more feminine by Khod'a's choice.

It was something that Sana accepted and was more than happy to support. How Khod'a wanted the world to see him wasn't a concern to her, but preparing him for how the world might eventually treat him was. It was a worry she tired to ignore and simply focus on building a bond with her child and a sense of security for him but like so many other worries she had for all three of her children as well as the two she was pregnant with, it was an uncertainty that would always linger just at the back of her mind.

But it wasn't a worry for that night. Instead another concern had been lingering in her mind, rolled too and from as she tried to decide how to approach the subject with Khod'a. Motherhood seemed a constant learning experience and nothing she'd experienced yet had readied her for the topic she wanted to bring up with Khod'a.

Her brother's adopted daughter, Terbish, had become a common sight at their home, the little girl having become instant friends with Khod'a. It was a friendship that was proving to be a healthy thing for the young Miqo'te who'd had his life completely upended by being sent to live with his mother and her mate. The shy awkwardness he had exhibited had eased and while he was still so painfully quiet at times, being around Terbish seemed to open Khod'a up and give him a bit more confidence. It wasn't a surprise to Sana that Khod'a likely confided things to Terbish that he wouldn't to her.

It had, however, been a surprise to her when Terbish had referred to Khod'a using feminine pronouns and even went as far as correcting Sana when Sana used the wrong pronouns. At the time she had simply smiled and adjusted but the thought to talk to Khod'a had lingered in her mind. While she wasn't afraid to have the conversation with Khod'a, she wasn't sure how to have it. Nothing in her still relatively short tenure in motherhood had prepared her for how to have this conversation.

It hadn't been hard to work out having time alone with Khod'a. Brem was home from the ship for a few days so her fiancée had happily jumped at the chance to put their toddler son to bed. It freed Sana up to focus solely on Khod'a and at first her focus had been putting the child at ease and making sure he was relaxed. Most of their conversation to that point had been him asking her questions about her travels, a topic he seemed fascinated with even if she was careful to edit out the less lawful aspects of her past that she wasn't quite sure how to address just yet.

A few moments of comfortable silence had settled between them before Sana finally asked, "Khod'a, when Terbi said that you were a girl and not a boy, did you ask her to call you a girl?"

She felt Khod'a stiffen some under her hands while she worked at putting his hair into a braid for the night. Pregnancy made leaning forward a bit awkward but she managed enough to press a reassuring kiss to the top of his head. The only thing she could hope was that her previous actions and responses to him had laid the foundation for him to trust her with this.

The younger Miqo'te shifted restlessly in place, worry causing his ears to press flat and his tail to flick in short, sharp little motions. “Yes...I don’t like being called a boy.” Careful, practiced motions finished off the braid she’d been working on and tied it off with a short bit of ribbon, making sure that it was secure enough that it wouldn’t come undone while Khod’a was sleeping. Sana wasn’t surprised by the statement, having contemplated over it but hadn’t wanted to push her child one way or the other. She knew plenty of men, including her brother Aya, who weren’t afraid to wear feminine clothes and it didn’t make them any less male. She simply wanted Khod’a and all her children to be happy and comfortable with who they were. It made her heart ache to see the signs of worry and nervousness in Khod’a and she couldn’t help but wonder if this was something he’d tried to bring up with his fathers only to have it ignore or met with opposition. She cared for Synd’to, enough that she hadn’t hesitated when it came to helping him when it had come time to conceive and carry Khod’a, but she knew he had his faults when it came to certain things. Raising their son in Gridania, knowing the rather close minded views of the locals, had been a choice he’d made a purpose and hadn’t done much to encourage Khod’a to be any different.

Even Khod’a’s mixed heritage wasn’t something spoken about, though a Seeker and a Keeper having a child together was far more acceptable than if they’d been of different races. While neither Synd’to or his husband had said anything about Alvin and Mede being obviously mixed race, Sana knew neither had approved. She didn’t doubt their quietly held prejudices stopped there and there was guilt in the fact that she hadn’t taken the time to see how those prejudices might have been affecting Khod’a until she was put into a position where she couldn’t simply let it be their problem. She’d deal with the two of them if and when they returned, but until then Khod’a was her child and his worries and concerns were hers to deal with.

She realized belatedly that his tension had grown in the face of her silence and almost seemed to be a living thing of its own surrounding him. Carefully, she turned Khod’a so they were settled side-saddle across her lap, a hand gently tilting his chin up so that his brilliant green gaze met hers. It never ceased to surprise her at just how much he favored her father and thus her. Fine boned and almost fragile in his vulnerability, she couldn’t help but wonder if that was what she’d looked like to everyone else when she’d been his age.

“Khod’a...if that’s what you want, all you have to do is say so. No one can tell you who you are.” She marvelled that she managed to keep her voice soft and gentle despite the burn of tears that she was desperately trying to keep from her eyes and the tone of her voice. “No matter what anyone says, the only person who knows how you feel and who you feel you are is you. So if you feel you’re a girl, then you’re a girl.” “But daddy and papa…” Khod’a started in and then trailed off when Sana gently hushed the child, pressing a kiss to their temple.

“I don’t care what your fathers told you, saghiri,” She corrected gently, the Antelope term familiar as all the children tended to be called little, “I will deal with them when the time comes. They are not you nor can they make that choice for you. If you feel you’re a girl and that is how you wish to be called, then that’s it. If not, that is fine too. There’s nothing wrong with that. What is wrong is forcing someone to be something they aren’t, do you understand?”

Wide eyed, Khod’a blinked owlishly at her as if some other answer or gentle lesson had been expected. It took a few moments before Khod’a nodded, ears pressed back in a sheepish gesture. “I don’t like being called a boy. I’m not a boy, I’m a girl like Terbi.” “Then that’s that.” Sana’s tone was, while still gentle, matter of fact. In her mind, there was no reason to argue. There was worry, more so knowing how harsh the world could be and how cruel people were, but they were worries for another day and another time.

Worries that were well out measured by the almost fear in Khod’a’s expression as she looked up at Sana. “You’re not mad at me about it?”

It wasn’t often that Sana was thankful her past profession allowed her to school her expression around her family but in this case she was thankful she knew she could keep her anger from her features. She’d have to have a very long talk with Synd’to and his husband if Khod’a’s worry was anger over such a thing. In rare form, she prayed that none of her other children would ever fear bringing anything like this to her.

“No, saghiri, I’m not mad at you. I would never be mad at you about something like this.” Gently she pulled Khod’a to her so the child could rest her head against Sana’s chest, albeit with a little adjusting due to Sana’s pregnancy. With Khod’a settled, she gently rocked the younger miqo’te as she had so often since Khod’a had come to stay with her, knowing the child found the motion soothing. “All I want is for you to be safe and happy. If this makes you happy, then I am happy for you.” A quiet nod followed Sana’s words but further response wasn’t so quick to follow nor did Sana try to coax one from Khod’a. She could only begin to imagine how much was going through the young child’s mind and she knew that some things needed time to process. She was more than happy to give Khod’a all the time she needed.

Though, when it took even longer than expected for an answer to come, Sana couldn’t help but look at the child in her arms. Khod’a had mostly drifted off, lashes still damp with quiet tears but at least the troubled look that so often seemed to rest on her features even in rest was gone for the moment. Not wanting to wake the sleeping child and not trusting herself to be able to carry Khod’a without falling, she was content to rest there.

“You should have put him to bed before he fell asleep, Wyznblyss.” Brem’s voice pulled Sana out of the doze she’d drifted off as much as the sensation of Khod’a’s weight being lifted off of her. “She needed to talk and comforting and I wasn’t about to say no. It likely won’t be the last time I end up pregnant and trapped under a sleeping child.” Sana pointed out with a sleepy laugh.

“Not if we keep having kids like we are…” There was a quiet questioning in Brem’s gaze, the choice of pronouns not lost on her fiancee. Sana simply shook her head, a tired smile on her lips as sleep still clung to her mind even as she stood to follow her wife to be as she went to put Khod’a to bed. “I’ll explain later. For now...let's put her to bed and go to bed ourselves. It’s been a long day.”

More than the call of bed, Sana wanted the warmth of her mate’s arms knowing their children were asleep and happy. It was one of the rare truly bright spots of happiness in her life that she doubted could ever truly be stamped out.

((Terbish and Ayanga belong to @talesfromthegameff14 and Brem belongs to @eyesofsteelandsky))

#A'sana Dorel #family time #motherhood #gender expression #ffxiv rp #mateus rp #crystal datacenter

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devintrinidad · 4 years

Note

I know right? 1146 can be paired up with multiple characters easily but 3803? It's like there's this rule where she can only be in a romance with 1146 and sometimes Cancer cell (really Cancer cell?). She's a gold mine of pairings and everyone does like her in canon when they get to know her. Examples: Killer T cell (as jerkish as he acts) always showed interest in her. The first time they met he focused on her and taunted her about getting killed. Not nice but then the next time he pops out of -

2 out of nowhere to and ignores 1146's question on why he's there. He makes fun of 3803 again but then the question is how does he know anything about her? Despite only seeing her once he somehow knows she gets lost easily and made her first successful circulation. Then later it's shown he's jealous 1146 gets to be close to her. Seriously fans could have run w/that interpretation of him being interested in her (which I think he was). Do you know how amusing a pairing involving them would be. -

3 Helper T cell. Idk, I saw a manga chapter where he was nice to her and seemed to know her since he told her to call him if she had any trouble (and this was with 1146 having already decided to accompany her). I like to hc she delivers sweets to him. DB5963 and her are too wholesome I need more canon interactions between them. Her and the WBC squad too. What about her friendships even? 5100. 4201. Eosinophill. Macrophage. The Platelets. Why are we all sleeping on this!~~~

ANON

MY GOSH ANON

IS THIS YOUR PLAN?

IS THIS YOUR NEFARIOUS SCHEME TO GET ME TO WRITE FOR CAW AGAIN???

BECAUSE IF IT IS, I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT AFTER I WRITE FOR ANOTHER FANDOM, I MIIIIIIIIIIGGGGGGHHHHHHTTTTTT DUST OFF MY MEDICAL TEXTBOOKS JUST FOR YOU.

I LOVE YOU ANON, BUT YOUR TACTICS ARE TOO MUCH FOR ME.

MUST. SUCCUMB. TO. CAW. FANFICTION.

But the T Lymohocytes with our dear 3803?

HOLY--

WHAT THE HECK?

I ACTUALLY WANT THIS IN MY LIFE?

First of all, with Killer T, I bet he would so tsundere for her. Like, he would be training the new recruits, suddenly there’s this virus and 3803 is like doing her job, but gets caught in the crossfire. Killer T sees this and goes -_____- because she’s an idiot for not running away and is instead just doing her job. He then saves her life (for the purposes of this little head canon, AGAIN) and goes “Look, do me a favor and try not to get yourself into more trouble. Got it?” To which 3803 salutes him before offering a cone of glucose for his hard work and bravery. Cue a heavy dark blush on Killer T because he can’t. take. her. cuteness.

Helper T Cell ABSOLUTELY ABSOLUTELY loves to get sweets from Ae-3803. He swears on his cytoplasm that all of the sweets that 3803 hand delivers to him personally are actually better than the other nutrients in the body. No, he’s not going crazy Regulatory T Cell. And it has nothing to do with the fact that every time she delivers things to him, she does so with a smile and a cute little “Please enjoy! Have a wonderful day, Mr. Helper T Cell!” My gosh, it’s not like she’s cute or anything, Killer T. And it’s not like anything is to come of it and--No! He’s not blushing, so stop taking pictures Dendritic Cell!

And since our dear T Cells aren’t complete with our Regulatory, why not. Whenever Regulatory T Cell gets stressed, 3803 immediately knows right away and begins curling/braiding Regulatory’s hair. After which, 3803 immediately gets sweet barley tea and makes sure that Regulatory gets to relax and enjoy life while her (in)competent T Cell squad just do... shenanigans in the background. Oh, and sometimes, 3803 picks up Regulatory in her arms bridal style or piggyback style and just carts her all over the body to get her out of the office.

Oh, and absolutely. Yes. We need to have more 3803 + canon interactions with other major characters!

(But I will forever be grateful is 3803 hangs our more with our fave WBC squad... especially 4989 ;D).

Thanks for the ask! I hope you have a wonderful day!

#hataraku saibou #cells at work #caw killer t cell #caw helper t cell #caw regulatory t cell #ae-3803 #3803 #ae3803 #anon ask #devintrinidad #devin trinidad #devintrinidad author #devin trinidad author

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ruensroad · 4 years

Text

the servant in a lord’s clothing

This AU is all @this-solaris-life‘s fault, as well as @dyabolos who put the idea of Cinderella!Mo Xuanyu into my head.

A Sangyu inspired by Ever After. Also, this got long, sorry!

--- Mo Xuanyu had never considered himself brave before. Even now, it still felt like pretend. It was pretend.

Because he wasn’t really a lord, like his clothing spoke to. He’d stolen the robes days in advance from his cousin so they wouldn't be missed and they still smelled of the cedar wood of his floorboards. He wasn’t rich with a full purse of spare money like the purse he did have suggested. It’d been dumped over him for his silence as a nobleman had “borrowed” one of the Mo family’s horses. Enough money to buy ten servants, given so carelessly. A blessing.

He wasn’t brave, but he was angry. His disguise was seamless, his purpose clear. That would have to be good enough.

The Nie estate was vast, far larger than even his aunt’s fine home. The rooms he was led to, a mere office, was larger than the greeting hall of the Mo family. He couldn’t even imagine what to do with so much useless space. It was ridiculous.

He caught sight of a mirror and the stranger staring back at him. He straightened and so did the reflection. A comfort that he could not even recognize himself. What were the chances, then, that someone else here would?

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” a man said, breezing into the office in an elegant sweep. Even as a mere pebble in his aunt’s shoe, he’d still heard of the fine Meng Yao, right hand man of Lord Nie, as well the duality of his praise. He was everything a man should be: handsome, cultured, soft-spoken. He was also everything a man should not be: the son of a prostitute, a bastard, and a favored companion despite it.

Mo Xuanyu understood far too well that pain and bowed in respect, not as low as he would as himself, but low enough he could see Meng Yao’s surprise. They were bastards of the same man, brothers who had never before met, and Mo Xuanyu tried not to dwell on it. Brothers or not, he was here to save a fellow servant and the likelihood of them meeting again was slim to none. Best to stay strangers then.

“Please forgive my interruption of your no doubt busy schedule.” Adding flourishes was something he’d heard his cousin do when he tried to impress a lady, and did his best to mimic the poetic wording, as most lords did. “But I am led to believe a man in my charge has been sold erroneously to cover a debt already fulfilled. He is a man with a wife and children and has served my family well.”

He set the coin purse between them and bowed his head again, furthering the surprise in Meng Yao’s otherwise perfect, smiling mask. “Twenty golden pieces, to cover his cost and compensation.”

“A generous sum for a servant,” Meng Yao told him, thoughtful, though his eyes had taken in a sharp focus. “I fear I was not told of the debt being cleared until he was already sold to us.”

Mo Xuanyu forced himself to smile pleasantly, the way his mother would have to face this first challenging of his story. “A miscommunication, I fear.”

“I see.” Meng Yao’s smile said one thing, but his eyes said another, and Mo Xuanyu did his best not to cower under his scrutiny. He was a lord now, standing tall, and until Gong Ye was returned to his household, he would not falter. “Do you often go to such great lengths for servants, Lord Yu?”

“He is a good servant,” Mo Xuanyu said with confidence, because it was true. “My staff has been utterly out of balance without him.”

Meng Yao softened, just a little, perhaps sensing the truth in that at least, and regarded the full bag of coin thoughtfully. But whether or not he was about to grant Mo Xuanyu’s wish would never be known, given the door opened and a far more proper lord, in far richer clothes, walked in with purpose, though stopped dead in his tracks seeing Mo Xuanyu standing there.

“Oh, Meng Yao, I didn’t know you had a visitor.” His voice was low and lilting, soft and definitely cultured. A bit of dramatics, perhaps, as most lords that did not have to work a day in their lives had. Mo Xuanyu bowed to him respectfully and got a small one in return, as station dictated. At least he seemed as sweet as his voice and round face suggested.

“Second Lord Nie,” Mo Xuanyu greeted, recognizing the fine detailing of his hair piece, which only the Nie men carried amidst their braided top knots. His aunt had gone on about them at length enough times for him to know the shape.

Meng Yao looked almost impressed. Did he sense the truth of Mo Xuanyu so easily? Had he known that was a guess? “Huaisang, this is Lord Yu from the Mo province. He has come to reclaim a servant from us.”

“Oh?” Nie Huaisang asked, curious eyes watching Mo Xuanyu over a beautifully painted fan that looked more expensive than all of Mo Xuanyu’s stolen robes put together. “And what claim has he?”

Alright, so maybe not so sweet. Mo Xuanyu did his best not to wilt under his dubious stare as Meng Yao chuckled from behind his desk.

“Gong Ye was sold to cover a debt, which Lord Yu has insisted has already been paid. Therefore, he offers twenty gold to take him back.”

“A large sum for just a servant,” Nie Huaisang mused and by the gods, that flippant smile was irritating.

Mo Xuanyu felt the flare of fire in him again, that these two high positioned men could look down on good, honest people so easily. It filled him with an eerie, vengeful calm, and he could see in the mirror just how sharp his smile became, ready to cut them both down.

“And what sum would you give for a human life?” he demanded of Nie Huaisang, uncaring that he was breaking all forms of propriety to say it. They’d been baiting him, he knew, and so he let them have the spoils with sharpened words. “Twenty pieces of copper perhaps? Ten blocks of wood? What is a human life worth to you, who sees a man and only what he is capable of and not the family he loves, or the way he lives?”

He gestured to the bag of coin, proof of a lord’s dismissal, and knew this was dangerous now, but couldn’t stop. Years of abuse, of pain, of righteous fury flooded out, and if he couldn’t physically slap the smiles off their faces, he’d do it his own way. “Twenty gold could buy you a dozen good servants, Second Lord Nie, but it is still not nearly enough to replace one good man. Take my money and lose a servant and I will be still be the richer between us.”

He tilted his chin into the air, knowing that he’d gone too far, that he’d die right here, and made his stand. “What sum must I give to return a man to his family? Twenty gold? Fifty? Must I give myself before you are satisfied?”

“Lord Yu,” Meng Yao started, placating, and that smile that had slipped returned, though it didn’t quite erase the shock on his face.

Mo Xuanyu did not heed him, just stared defiantly at Nie Huaisang, who’s fluttering fan had stilled, his honey eyes wide.

“If a man’s worth is dependent on his work, then shouldn’t I be the servant and he the master?” Mo Xuanyu demanded. “What gives me the right to place a sum on a man who keeps my household running. What would you give, Second Master Nie, if your own star servant, Meng Yao, was sold without your knowledge? What would you pay, when twenty pieces of gold were only laughed at because a servant’s life is deemed worth far less?”

“Servants are born servants,” Nie Huaisang managed, sounding shocked, but firm in that.

Mo Xuanyu was having none of it. “Servants are born servants, lords are born lords. What a tidy way of life,” he mocked. “We lords who can sit in opulence while servants break their backs for us, because of who their parents were. So you have the right to determine their worth? You, who have no knowledge of who they are or how they suffer?”

He scoffed and was exceedingly pleased with the flinch he got from Nie Huaisang. “You suffer your people to scrounge for scraps and dare to call them less? Where is their right to life? Where is their right to determine your worth, Second Master Nie?”

He turned away then, glaring down Meng Yao in clear dismissal of the young lord, and waited for the blade to come. Death would be welcome, as long as Gong Ye could go home. He’d said his piece and he was more than ready to face what came.

“Now, are you going to give me back Gong Ye, or do I have to sell myself into your service to return him? Since you and Second Master Nie seem so well versed in the worth of human lives, tell me what I am worth.”

As the bastard son of a lord, discarded and forced to climb his way back up, Meng Yao understood, he knew, and looked ready to laugh at his stubbornness. Nie Huaisang on the other had, born a lord and a fool for it, snapped his fan shut with wide eyes, a slight blush on his cheeks and a contrite look in his eyes.

“Lord Yu… I did not mean to offend,” he said, voice small, and maybe he really was sweet, just horribly ignorant to how life really worked. As much as he hated to admit it, Mo Xuanyu couldn’t exactly fault him for it completely. “You are right. Who am I to determine a man’s worth? Perhaps he truly is worth twenty gold to you, or more,” he hastened to add when Mo Xuanyu glared at him in warning. “It’s more than enough to cover the debt, his price, and his place. Please, take him and return him to his family.”

“Yes, Huaisang has the right of it,” Meng Yao added, bolstering the command, and somehow, someway, he’d won, and all the fight left him in one horrible, terrifying crash. Holy shit, he was still alive. “Please, take your servant back, Lord Yu, and accept our apologies for the trouble and confusion.”

“And my ignorance,” Nie Huaisang jumped in on that, quickly, and bowed in deep respect. Mo Xuanyu stared at him in surprise. “Please forgive my rudeness, Lord Yu.”

To forgive a lord, how strange. Still, what did his forgiveness cost him, truly? It was worthless, they just didn’t know it. And the longer it took for him to reply, the more Nie Huaisang started to wilt. He would not be cruel, he decided, seeing it. Not like all the lords he’d known.

“You are forgiven,” he said, forcing his voice down into something soft and earnest. “But if you truly wish to make up for this conversation, simply be better.”

He nodded to Meng Yao as he said that, surprising the man yet again. “You are surrounded by capable men, Second Lord Nie. I pray you never forget it.”

Nie Huaisang stared at him in open awe, mouth parted, sweet face dusted red. It made a warning go off in Mo Xuanyu’s mind, but he had no idea why.

“With your wisdom today, Lord Yu, I can promise you I won’t forget.”

#ruenwrites #sangyu #ever after au #this was way too much fun to write #huhu #mo xuanyu #nie huaisang #meng yao #the untamed

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thorsstorms · 5 years

Text

Abroad pt 14

(Chris Hemsworth x Reader)

Summary: Being the Hemsworth Kids’ Nanny, you were vowed to keep it strictly professional for their sake, but do the stolen glances go unnoticed between you both?

Word count: 3k

Warnings: There is nothing much in this chapter, but i will start adding this as a warning: This chapter talks about pregnancy, as well as the next. If you have problems regarding pregnancies, or anything that MAY or MAY NOT come along with one, please continue with caution.

A/N: if you want to be tagged, PLEASE SEND AS AN ASK. And I do have a question if you would. This chapter is shorter than most of the others, almost cut in half in comparison. Do you mind my long 6K chapters? or you would you prefer they be shorter with more frequent updates? When I finish a chapter and it turns out to be that long, its because i add so much that it is well rounded by itself, scene wise. just let me know please! :)

Masterlist

It was barely two hours later before you woke from measly slumber. Not even sure if you could actually call it sleep, more like a haze in and out of consciousness. The alarm was telling that it was time to get India up and ready for school. This was a moment that had been filled with dread in your mind. You figured she would be in a sort of mood all day because it was you dropping her off and picking her up, not her father.

You found her cuddled into the large bed, buried beneath the fluffy white blanket with tear stained cheeks. The image was one to break anyone’s heart. You tiptoed further into the room wanting to wake her up slowly so you could gauge her mood. The bed dipped down as you crawled in front of her and laid down, brushing hair out of her face. She woke slowly, cuddling into you while you whispered good mornings and that it was time to get ready for school.

She didn’t speak much during the morning. Yes and no answers were all that you could get out of her, but you were grateful enough that she wasn’t crying or acting out. She sat silently on the bathroom counter while you braided her hair back, and tucked her lip gloss into her pocket.

Bri was awake and staying with the boys while you were taking her to school. You spoke with her teacher real quick while India walked quietly to her spot at the table and sat down, watching the other kids start on their morning activity.

“Her father left this morning, she usually has trouble behaving for a day or two. But this is her first time being in school, and if you feel like she would be better spending a day at home to recuperate please don’t hesitate to call me. She was very calm this morning but if you sense other wise…” Regina, she told you to call her by her first name, was quick to stop you, saying she understands and will let you know how the day goes. The lip gloss was brought up just so she wouldn’t get in trouble for having it. “It’s her favorite thing right now, keeps her in a better mood.”

You sighed once you got to the car. She was your little best friend and seeing her be so numb this morning was something that you couldn’t get off your mind. You had never had to experience missing your parents for such great lengths of time as a child. Besides an uncle in the military, you always had your family with you. Trying to make her feel as if she isn’t lonely was on the top of your priorities. Hoping she would make some new friends in her class, or be there for her with school activities was next. Being the one to fill the role is one of the hard parts of a job like this. Either they see that you are trying your best to play the part, or they think it’s annoying and want you to back off.

By the time you were back both boys were sitting on top of the kitchen counters with bowls of cereal, Bri standing in front of them with her own. The sight of her was a flush of reminder of last night, and then this morning, somehow allowing Chris to walk out the door without telling him.

You hid the contradiction on your face and greeted them all. Sasha was the first to offer you some of his bowl because he got the last of the fruit loops, but you politely declined.

“Does your tummy still not like breakfast?” His innocent voice was full of curiosity, completely serious. You nodded and told him you would have some juice instead and wait a little.

You went upstairs to pick out the boys some clothes for the day. It was your favorite thing to do. You were greeted with a lovely dirty pull-up on the floor beside Triatan’s bed. The child never learns. You just shook your head at it and proceeded to the closet and setting the clothes on the couch outside their rooms. The boy of the hour was already bounding up the stairs to find where you went.

His eyes landed on yours, which were not the happiest. He knew what the look was for. You expected him to go in there and pick up the pull-up and take it to the trash can in the bathroom, where it belongs. But instead he walked past the door and went for his clothes. He got dressed. The went into the bathroom and brushed his hair. He walked out of the bathroom, aiming for the stairs before you said anything to him.

“Tris, room. Now. You know better,” he ignored you, turning and sitting on the couch looking at the bucket of legos that was appealing to him. “It goes in the trash, not on the floor.” He ignored you again, picking up his tablet from the grey couch cushion.

Bri and Sasha were walking up the stairs, minding their own as Sasha grabbed his clothes and walked to his room. You looked at Bri with a look of help, before saying it again, “Tristan, go pick up your pull-up and put it in the trash.”

“No,” he said quietly, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away.

“What?”

“I said no!” He yelled back at you, “You’re not my mama!”

He hopped from the couch and took the tablet with him, shutting the bedroom door behind him. You couldn’t bring yourself to follow him anyway. You stared in his direction feeling shock come over you. At first it was a ‘how dare he’ and then it turned into a ‘he’s right’.

You couldn’t replace their mother, nor would you ever try. Its you that feeds them, bathes them, read them bedtime stories, brushes their hair for them in the mornings, puts band-aids on owies, and comforts them when their are sad. But you are not their ‘mama’.

“Hey,” Bri’s voice finally came through for you to hear. Her hands were keeping you facing her, waiting for you to register that she was trying to get your attention. “He’s a child acting out, okay. Just ignore him.”

Her finger tips scraped across your cheek. You pushed away from her after realizing that a stupid stray tear or two were escaping at your own peril. You wiped your face and turned away from her, ready to go down stairs until another little voice broke your attention. Right, there is another little boy up here.

“(Y/n) are you sad?” His curiosity was one of the purest things in the world, though it can sometimes be more than annoying, it was everything you expected from the four year old and everything you loved about him.

“Just a little buddy, but I’ll be okay.” Your answer was one age appropriate, and enough for him not to worry. He walked back into the room and retrieved his blankey from the bed and drug it out of the door way with him.

“Come with me,” he said, grabbing your hand and leading you down the stairs. You looked back at Bri and she just shrugged her shoulders and followed as well. He led you to the movie room, instructing you to sit on the couch with his blankey. He reached for the remote from a basket on the table and gave it to you, telling you to put on your favorite movie.

“When I get sad, you put on Cars or Ninja Turtles.” His purposeful motions were making sense to you now. When he is in a mood this is what he gets to do and he wants to do it for you. He climbs up the couch next you and throws the blanket over your legs and sits into your side. The actions were something to warm your heart and all that is good in the world. It took you a second to gather yourself to not cry at how sweet he was being.

“Are you gonna watch a movie?” He asks after you sat there staring at him, not taking action to put something on.

“Yea, yea.” You flipped through a bit before settling on Moana, it was your favorite, and you couldn’t not sing along.

It was only maybe 20 minutes into the movie when Tristan came walking solemnly through the doorway with Bri looming behind him. Blonde hair hung around his face lowly as feet padded across the carpet to the couch, standing in front of you. You held out your arms for him and he leaned into you giving you hug while you pulled him up and onto your lap. He muttered an ‘Im sorry’ into your shoulder.

“Listen,” you told him, pressing the small shoulders back from you so he could see your face, though he avoided your eyes, “I know you got upset earlier, and that’s okay, it’s just feelings.” He tried to hide his face again but you held his shoulders back until he lifted his head again. “I know you miss your mama, Tris. And Papa too, I miss him too. And I know I’m not your mama, I will never try to be your mama, but I do love you so, so much. Do you know that?”

His small head nod was quaint, small fingers brushed over the top of your hair on your shoulder to keep his hands busy while you talked to him.

“But even though I love you so, so much,” you repeat yourself, “I don’t like it when you raise your voice at me. Do I raise my voice at you?”

He shook his head no, but he let you know that Papa does.

“So what are we gonna do tomorrow morning before we come down stairs for breakfast?”

“Put my pull up in the trash bin.”

“That’s right.”

It was surprising to see both boys stay calm enough to watch the whole movie because it was still morning time and they were not tired. They watched the whole movie again, not that you were complaining. Bri entertained herself down stairs while you took a while to do some school stuff with the boys. It was never a lot, just some small words for reading, simple books, and puzzles.

When you came down with them to make some lunch, Bri already had bags of take-out setting on top of the counter. She just shrugged and said, “Postmates.”

“I made you a doctors appointment.” She told once the boys had their food and were sitting on the back patio. It was unexpected for her to do, but to say you were grateful was an understatement. “Its tomorrow morning, I’ll stay with the boys, but you need to go after you drop off India. And then I need to go so I can make it to classes the next day.”

The girl had stopped everything to come be with you, and you knew if she could she would stay longer but you weren’t that selfish.

The food on your plate suddenly became bitter to look at, losing your appetite was now nothing knew. Whether it was from being weary or your body just not wanting it was hard to tell, but what you did know was that your favorite tacos from Miss Margarita’s did not look so yummy at the moment.

Your day flew by as did so many others previous to it. You were kept busy all the time and though you were happy for it, by the time Chris called you, you were ready to slink into unconsciousness on the cloudy bed.

His voice made your eyes widen again after realizing they were slowly closing. “Princess, you can sleep, don’t let me keep you up.”

“No, no, I want to talk to you. I miss you. And I like hearing what you’ve been doing. Its entertaining.” The energy you put into your voice was less than convincing, but regardless it was the truth.

“I know, its crazy stuff. India hasn’t said anything about school when I talked to her.” His voice trailed waiting for you to pick it up.

“Her teacher said she was good today, quiet, but good. But she expects all the kids to start rallying up the more they get to know each other. She said she keeps the lipgloss on at all times, and takes it with her to lunch and out on the playground.” The sound of his laugh was refreshing. You missed the sound, how it set a warming tone in your chest to see him giggly. It just reminds you that you made him upset his last night home. That was time you could have spent hearing his voice in person, right next to you but you ruined it.

I’m ready for you to come home again, I know it has only been like what, less than 36 hours, but I want you back already. It was what you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him but you knew it would just make him feel bad for a decision you pushed him to make. That was what you were not going to do. It was a good choice for him to sign the contract, a good choice for him in the media, a good choice financially. There are so many people that were affected positively, millions who were awaiting the next film. But you were just one person, one who could - would have to - stick it out for everyone else.

“Guess what I did today?” You ought to say something before he tries to hang up again so you could sleep. “The boys and I went into the movie room and watched Moana, but all I could think about was you. When we were sat down there after I first moved in, falling asleep on the couch.”

“You know what?” He asked looking towards the camera. “That was when I knew I was going to fall in love with you.” The sentiment was true, you knew that night that you were also in trouble. “Your hair was crazy like you had been at the water all day, and your skin was much tanner than before I left. But you fit in like a missing puzzle piece.”

“You can stop now, you might make me cry.” You could already feel a lump in your throat, tears welling up closely behind. He had know idea of the stress you were about to unload on him. He smiled at your tone of voice thinking it was one of love and happiness. It was the tone of sorrow. You were tired, emotional all day and him being more than you deserved was another crack in your wall.

“I'm counting down the days already, Princess. 26 days and I’ll be home for 7. Your brother will be there. We are gonna get so rowdy. Fun, it’s gonna be fun. Do you think you could bare it?”

“Of course I can.” It wasn’t much longer when you fell asleep.

The doctors appointment was faster than you expected, but then again it wasn’t like you had done it before. You left with an ultrasound picture of almost nothing, an eight week old almost nothing. A tiny little bean surrounded by empty black and white. The black sported a small smudge when you realized a lone tear found its way. You sat in the driver's seat staring down at the little picture in your lap.

What is it with being so goddamn full of tears all the time. Like the slightest thing could make you tear up. It was frustrating and you didn’t understand it. You were hungry, wanting tacos all the time but you can’t bring yourself to eat when they are in front of you. Wanting to call Chris selfishly just to talk to him but you knew he had to be sleeping, so you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. A stupid small headache that never goes away because of the tears that are always hiding in the midst. It was enough to drive a person crazy.

Your eyes scanned the parking lot around you, full on paranoid that someone was watching you, but with the early hour there were only a few empty cars to keep yours company.

A small peptalk was what you needed in the moment. The self deprecating thoughts were not going to get you anywhere and you knew it. There was no more need to think about what ifs, but where you were now needed to be on your mind. No more thinking about how terrified you were that he was going to be upset, or how your family was going to feel about it. What your dad was going to think.

Bri sat with you in the living room after the boys were down for their nap, you could still hear banging around up there, but you didn’t have the energy to go up there and tell them to settle. She held the tear stained picture of a little bean in her hands with a smile on her face.

“You can’t tell Ty, you can’t.” Her eyes flicked to your own strained red ones from keeping the tears away. “I will when he comes, when Chris comes. I want to do it.”

She nodded in agreement, “Of course.”

After packing her things she left after lunch, ready for a lonely slow drive back to the city. The city you did not miss. It was fun while it lasted but you couldn’t imagine going back, especially with a child.

With a child.

Taglist: @keithseabrook27 @odinson-barnes @jonsnowisthesexiestbastard @weekendswithnewtmas @innerpaperexpertcloud @toomanyflowerboys @thefashioncomplex @basmaraafat @imaginationintowords @taketimeandappreciate @superheroesaremytea @vampiregirl1797 @ynm1505 @danathewitchywoman @avengerswhonow @thorfanficwriter @disaster-rose @cap-just-said-language @xmarveled @kemkem101 @chonisberonica @hildehuffles @hannah-olivia @woodworthti666 @thetrashypanda423

#chris hemsworth fic #chris hemsworth fan fiction #chris hemsworth x reader #hemsworth #chris hems #marvel fanfic #marvel cast #avengers masterlist #marvel masterlist #avengers #thor #thor fic #chris x reader

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lula1991 · 5 years

Text

My Jewel

Summary

An ancient spell causes a millenary young lady to weaken, it is up to Larry and her friends to help her find the key to return her to normal while a stranger pretends, along with three already known individuals, to take over a captive jewel somewhere in Egypt with the in order to proclaim it “yours.” (The shock of all the chaos in her).

Objective? The guard and the exhibits must prevent it from falling into the wrong hands while between Ahkmenrah and the girl, a romance will slowly emerge that will bear fruit over time.

Genre: Adventure, comedy, romance, fantasy

Warnings: None.

Before starting with this chapter, I want to make a greeting and a general thanks for not forgetting those little people who gave this humble fic a chance. As promised by @underworldsheiress, I hope you enjoy this chapter and that you too! Hey! You know, if you want to be tagged so you don't miss out on this beautiful story, don't hesitate to tell me, you're always welcome :D💕

Chapter 3

Approximately a few moments remained for the Sun to hide between the buildings. Within the establishment of the Department of Egyptology at the University of Cambridge, a security man took a final look so that everything was under control, exploring the room and the resting place of an ornate and colorful sarcophagus halfway to bed with a small engraving in a metal plate next to it. Satisfied with his night watch shift, he left the millenary room whistling a nice tune to the exit marked with a bright green sign where the heavy metal doors closed causing a resounding echo when the keys clinked securing them..

When the sun went down, outside the museum it was observed how a strange glow completely illuminated the building and a strange magic floated in the air of Cambridge, especially when in the great and elegant chamber of the exhibition of the mythical country, at the end of the room began to occur leisurely movements within that sarcophagus.. A hand wrapped in worn bandages that hung and went in different lengths and thicknesses, peered through the union of the coffin and the lid thus until pushing it aside falling to the ground with a dry sound..

That figure sat up solemnly in the same interior, his feet responded to stand obeying to leave his resting place while maintaining his back position. He unscrewed the aged linen from his head, revealing a dark hair that was finely disheveled and impeccable despite the passing of the millennia and slowly placed a beautiful crown on his head..

— I've come back to life! — a female voice echoed among the murals, that sound was enough for at least three of the exhibits to kneel before their queen. Maybe they were servants ..

— Your Excellency. — it was a very pleasant speaking sound belonging to a girl, keeping her eyes on the ground out of respect.

— Highness, it is an honor to see her so stingy. — this was another female voice when she bowed to her.

— Yes, you don't notice the 6000 years at all.. — said another young woman and one of them rubbed her elbow.

— I missed your compliments, Ahesut. — the woman turned to the girl in turquoise dress, green orbs that accentuated her brunette skin while a small headband with gold leaf charms adorned her jet hair.

Ahesut: Really? — the young woman smiled as she did not catch the sarcasm of her queen.

— No. — It was short thin.

— Should we be right that you are here for a reason?

— My dear, Tahmenk, I have not returned from the underworld so many times for nothing. — the queen smiled gently as she walked through the huge, refined and picturesque site, displaying her tight black tunic with luxurious gold accents, an elegant style. —There is a rare treasure among us and I think everything is focused on what I hope for. It's not the tablet of Ahkmenrah, if you ask me. That stubborn young man has left this place several years ago. It is something the same or much more powerful than you think..

Tahmenk: And what can be more striking than that?

Ahesut: What is it, your Majesty?

The queen with an unknown name tilted her head to the side so that they would follow her to the address where her unknowns would be answered..

They stayed away being a few steps from a room inside the exhibition very fine and delicate in colors, it is what could be observed from their positions..

Ahesut: Wow! Is that what I was talking about? — absorbed, the young woman observed the ancient relic from the temple hall.

— So is. After that boy left the exhibition in the 50s, in the same decade they later chose to remodel his room once it was diverted to another site, then expose that brat and remove it later without his bracelet. — that said, she walked slowly followed by them. — Since then the piece remains here until who knows when. — the queen saw the jewel hung on the back wall covered with iconography by her ancestors, those writings that cared for and startled all her splendor. — If I'm lucky, it must be mine definitely and You are going to help me make my return a purpose.

Nehtatem: I think the confinement hurt you. — the girl said simply.

— Nehtatem, this is my kingdom and here I command. — she demanded when the three Egyptians looked at each other. — Go saying goodbye to everything, girl. — the queen murmured watching that precious piece with misgiving.

For being a young girl in years, she was quite clumsy and apparently, they three too..

Nehtatem: Do you have a plan? — the girl with caramel eyes inquired waiting for her queen's next move.

— Of course. — sis eyes didn't take off from there.

Tahmenk: Before the six-meter jackals take our eyes off? — but the tone she used was not very relaxed.

And the 6-meter guardians with small eyes approached the intruders with their spears..

— ’iilaa‘ asifal‘! (‘Down!’) — she ordered confidently believing they would obey her even if it didn't work out.

The lackeys came closer, and more, and more to those women of silly aura and perhaps of dubious darkness, the jackals were perfectly fulfilling their job of faithfully protecting what his mistress was not to blame for neglecting and they left running taking refuge from where they had been standing minutes ago..

Ahesut: Someone must watch those mangy dogs. — the brunette whispered, reloading on the wall and then peeking out and from that place the jackals still raised in arms.

— What a good idea, Ahesut! — she took her shoulders. — You will stay here!

Ahesut: But.. — without realizing the brunette said something intelligent.

— And you too! — she pointed to the tall, dark-skinned girl with brown hair, amber eyes and a cream-colored dress.

Tahmenk: Me? — the young woman pointed out.

— And you! — the queen pointed to the girl with candy irises, dressed in honey, owning a mahogany skin and braids that embellished her dark hair to her shoulders.

Nehtatem: But if the idea was of her. — she reproached very stunned.

— It's none of my business. — the woman released back to her post. — And I hope you contribute more than last time.. — she seemed dissatisfied, muttering with indifferent hope.

The Moon still shone in the sky and in the bowels of Cambridge, Ahesut sat against the mural feeling a strange heaviness in her eyes; she should not do what her companions agreed to or what her eyelids demanded although without realizing it, she was immersed in a deep sleep against her will.. Long seconds elapsed until her own snoring sound filled her ears causing her to wake up slowly but when her senses sharpened, it was moderately late..

Ahesut: Oh.. — she whispered covering her mouth. — No.. — without being able to do anything, the girl watched the scene as she bit her fist.

Nehtatem: What happens..? — she spoke and quickly sealed her lips with one hand.

Ahesut: Sh..— her friend stared at her while a humorous silence floated between them.

Nehtatem: Oh no, tell me it's not true, Ahesut. — she murmured and in that bad feeling she could read his gaze.

Ahesut: We must bear the consequences.

Yes, she was and they were in trouble..

— I told you to watch her!

Ahesut: It was an oversight, your Highness. — she released when playing with her fingers feeling threat.

— No excuse, Ahesut! How did you let it escape?!

Nehtatem: We believe it was removed at the request of someone important to another museum. — she hesitated playing with the bow of her honey-colored dress.

— Then there is no danger and while it is night, we can recover it if you know where it is. — their leader looked at them and they did not know what to answer. The queen's countenance changed radically from happy to furious. — Do you know it or not?! — the woman watched them at the same time without blinking.

That brunette-skinned girl moved her mouth but no words came out due to nervousness, it was a funny scene until a small sound left her vocal cords..

Ahesut: We also don't listen to which museum was to be exhibited. — she said in a squeaky voice out of fear. — It was a small jump before coming to you.

Nehtatem: Don't pay attention to her, she didn't do it but I did.. — the girl tried to make the queen ignore what she heard.

— Sure? — the queen tilted her face minimally by putting pressure on her. — Safe?!

Nehtatem: I think in the Smithsonian or something like that.. — and she spoke not very sure to remember it.

— ‘Something like that’ is not an answer, Neh.

There were some steps approaching at an agile pace..

Tahmenk: Majesty! The relic has disappeared! — the young woman warned and Ahesut slammed her hand against her forehead.

No one really knew who of the three was the grossest..

— Know one thing. — she spoke with a mysterious attitude when the girls retreated before their bearing. It was bewitchingly beautiful on the outside and a gray intermediate inside. — I swear if you don't get there, I'll personally liquidate them! Did you understand? — the woman warned when the girls nodded quickly. — Unexperienced! — and she turned around, dragging the long thin coat of her robe.

Tahmenk: There, where? — the young woman asked awkwardly when Nehtatem gave her friend a gentle blow to the head.

They came to infiltrate a cargo container plane and without raising suspicion, we found ourselves in the Smithsonian, the largest museum in the world, where the clumsy queen was with her not very intelligent three companions..

— Well, after going around in circles, we are where we wanted. — the queen thanked sarcastically.

Ahesut: Hey, don't look at me. I was not to blame for the truck deviating through that capitol.

— Walk! We have to find that jewel. — the woman demanded followed by them.

If they wanted to finish quickly, they had to do it effectively and it was the least they had, so they separated to check the basement of the entire museum. It turns out that the jewel was there, since they took their magic for granted when they saw the less recognizable exhibition replacements wandering around, a little fearful for those strange figures walking their "home." His search was thorough but without an encouraging result of where the relic could be found..

Tahmenk: I miscalculated the distance.. — the girl reported aphonic because of the fatigue of having been traveling from one maze to the other.

Ahesut: There is no sign of his objective. — who seemed to be the smallest in age slowly approached the queen.

— Don't tell me, Ahesut. And if you are not on this site, where else?

Tahmenk: How to know, Royal Majesty?

— I do not know. Think, with desire. — the queen suggested when the synapse might make contact between her neurons.

Ahesut: What if we ran to the device with wheels where we came after the mechanical bird and followed its route until we knew where it went?

Tahmenk: Don't be silly. Besides how to know what artifact it was in which we came, without they were all identical in the warehouse. Surely the jewel must be too far away now to find it..

Nehtatem, who seemed to be the moderately thinking, stretched out his face with one hand due to listening to the stupidities his companions had just said..

Ahesut: I don't believe..

Nehtatem: Don't listen to them, Your Highness. If it's any use, it must have been taken up in some of the galleries. What if.. — who apparently was the moderately thinking of the three suggested looking at all at the same time.

— Anyway, Ahesut, Tahmenk, don't stop inviting me when you release your brain.

Ahesut: It was a suggestion ..

—Dah! Walk! - the queen growled in response turning around.

When they left, they found themselves in the Northwest of the castle outside the public area, walking aimlessly through the hall of Egypt, where once Kahmunrah's exhibition was a good time on display and has been emptied to be diverted to another place later years, even without giving with that object, at least that was the panorama..

— Well, we got here and I don't see the jewel.. — the beautiful woman slowly slid through that sector visually looking for the relic. — Tell me Ahesut, why did I always listen to you, mm? — she raised an eyebrow while keeping a hand on her chin with thoughtful countenance without the young woman responding with something logical. — I need people ready for this. — she muttered, massaging her temples with her index fingers. —People who know how to govern, strategists, witty brains, with the impact of tragedy, the ingenuity of an emperor..

—‘Si cela me permet, Mademoiselle.’ (‘If you allow me, Miss‘) — a French accent spun on its axis looking at the little man standing by the threshold. "I am Napoleon Bonaparte, Emperor of France and I am effective pays his strategies. — he came walking to her.

—‘Enchanté, Monsieur’ (’Delighted, Sir’) — his French was perfect while the little guy kissed the back of one of his hands. — I think you were sent to me by the gods.

Napoleon: ‘Mercy.’ (‘Thank you’) I couldn't help hearing you need help, mona mi.

—What a retailer.

Napoleon: Oh, well, I'm French, I love the little things. But we do not deviate from the subject. We can help you?

—You, and who else?

Napoleon: My old allies and I, Ivan the Terrible and Mr. Al Capone, of course. — he mentioned them and the two missing ones appeared.

And she was fascinated, moreover, she seemed more a fanatic than a serious leader..

Al Capone: And what's your name, girl?

— My name is something I will not reveal for the moment. I must be frank, my dear helpers are not good support..

Tahmenk: Hey!

— And I need new generals to help me in my plan. Stay on my side and in return, I offer you the world, literally.

Al Capone: What was called boss has promised us the same thing some years ago..

Mm, it seems that the woman was facing a difficult audience as she rattled fingers with fingers devising an idea that made them more docile..

— That won't happen because my proposal is simple. What do you guys say? Do you agree?

Al Capone: Yes, yes, of course.

Napoleon: ‘Oui’ (‘Yes’)

Ivan, the Terrible: ‘Da’ (‘Yes’)

— All right. The moon still shines in the sky but time is short..

Napoleon: Short? Explain to me why you looked at me by saying short. — he drew his sword.

— I'm sorry, I slipped. — After that event the emperor pointed it out as a sign of being careful. — Gentlemen, I am looking for a rare jewel that without a doubt a spoiled girl that I have known long ago, she will try to recover it without rest and that I can’t allow it. But I must find a starting point to do it well and without failures. Suggestions?

Napoleon: I am an excellent strategist, my lady. I am the most qualified to start his plan. — he felt important.

— Can you think of something, little sir?"

Napoleon: I'm not small! I am huge, you are tiny, tiny and I am a great cat. Are you suggesting that moi is a mouse?

— I only said it because its size is very tender.. — and in that Napoleon imitated a feline when it threatens its prey. — What is your plan?

Napoleon: Why not focus first on the young woman, on trying to take reference points and use them against her to obstruct the arrival to that jewel that you so much desire..

— Keep going..

Napoleon: In addition, you could even take advantage of the situation by also going behind Ahkmenrah's tablet.

— Ahkmenrah's tablet? And what would I want her for? It is not my goal.

Napoleon: If you want to take over the world completely, I recommend it..

Ivan, the Terrible: My lady, you would be the successor of Kahmunrah and aspire to what he could not undertake. The world would not only be ours, but also his having those relics under his order. — he gave her an amazing idea that she accepted.

— If having both relics with me, there is a possibility that I will have to find a way to take over the world by starting a new regime in the attempt, why not? — she thought out loud. —You are starting to like me..

Al Capone: Girl, if you have enough guts, you would even avenge Kahmunrah, being loyal to her thought..

— I like it..

She smiled vigorously sinister..

Al Capone: What's next? — he looked at the queen and she walked with her hands on her back impatient the rest.

— You will initiate the plan.. — she pointed to the Emperor. — You'll find who I want out of my way.

Napoleon: And what name does she respond to? — the tall, elegant woman whispered the name in her ear. — How will I recognize her? — she whispered again giving him the exact information. — And what do you suggest? — his curiosity made the queen smile witfully.

Napoleon managed to infiltrate the Natural History museum disguised as a bonsai trying to find some signal to bring information to the silly queen, he didn't find anything until..

Ahkmenrah: Hey, what will you do after tomorrow's exposure? — the king seems to have gained confidence since he talked with Teddy, he wanted to know Larempteh's plans very interested while walking with the beautiful girl through the Asia section.

Larempteh: Is it an appointment proposal? Because I still don't know what I'm going to do.. — she stopped slowly until she was in front of him, she was very clever and that the young man liked that.

Ahkmenrah: Well, I do know..

He smiled about to kiss her as soon as from her side she copied her face looking first at her eyes, then her mouth and again at her orbs, he reached a hand around her waist feeling the ground and having no signs of hostility determined to host the palm drawing her to his face while the adorable girl caressed the elegant and large ornate piece that covered from the wrist to the middle of the forearm of the pharaoh shortening the distance thanks to the thrust of Ahk on his hip, now more, a little more, more and more until Jed's voice interrupted..

— Hey Ahk! Can you come for a moment?

Larempteh: I think we'll have to postpone this moment, your Highness. — the girl spoke in a low voice very close to him, the eyes were held with complicit adoration.

Ahkmenrah: Friends.. — he used a tone that made the girl laugh.

Larempteh: You have to go. You don't have to make friends wait. — she said to them to accommodate her cape.

Ahkmenrah: Sorry.. — he felt frustrated although he put a good smile between his teeth.

Larempteh: Calm down, go.. — the queen smiled at her and before the boy left, she stood in front of her.

Ahkmenrah: How do I look? — he put his hands on his waist opting for a historical profile.

Larempteh: Like a pharaoh. — she smiled and when praised, Ahkmenrah smiled back to continue on her way. The beautiful girl continued her route until she tripped over something. — Au! — she calmed the pain in her leg when she saw what she had hit. — You're not from here, or are you? — she asked addressing him.

Napoleon: Ah, it's that I'm new, little girl. — his accent is the only thing he couldn't hide among green leaves and branches that covered his face discreetly.

Larempteh: Since when do trees talk in this place? — she snapped up.

Napoleon: Ahkmenrah's tablet is powerful. It brings to life all the important figures in the history of the museum.

Larempteh: Oh yes? And I guess you must be very important, right?

Napoleon: In China, bonsai are iconic there. They love us. Larempteh: Really? I've been to China and it's the first time I've heard a bonsai speaking French.

To this the girl raised an eyebrow in sign of suspicion. The Frenchman no longer knew what to invent and preferred to change the subject..

Napoleon: Ah, don't look at my accent. I learned to speak it at the Flora Conservation Department in Paris. — he lied perfectly.

Larempteh: Ah.. — although she wasn't very convinced to say since it was a blind belief in her words.

Napoleon: So you are Queen Larempteh?

Larempteh: Who wants to know?

Napoleon: I'm just being polite. I thought it was great to be able to establish a bond with you since you are a pleasant young woman.

Larempteh: Well, I'm going to decide to believe you and not because I like you, that by the way I don't, but because I'm a person of values and respect. That's right, my name is Larempteh, High Blue Sapphire of the Nile, fourth queen of the fifth great king and ruler of the reign of my pharaohs. — in her refined voice, she presented herself with real distinction, feeling proud of her Dynasty.

Napoleon: Uh! It is a bit long.

Larempteh: They are my customs, it is shorter in Egyptian. — she made a gesture of downplay. — And what's your name?

Napoleon: I'm Chang.

And at that time Napoleon adopted a pseudonym, improvising to continue with the systematic model carried out..

Larempteh: Chang?

Napoleon (Chang): Yes, yes ..

Larempteh: Okey..

The girl still was still with ice law..

Napoleon (Chang): So queen, huh? And what makes an important queen like you?

Larempteh: What makes me important? Having been part of the most glorious dynasty in Egypt.

Napoleon (Chang): And don't you have something else that makes you special?

Larempteh: In what way?

Napoleon (Chang): Well then, something of value..

Larempteh: How what?

Napoleon (Chang): I don't know, you tell me.

Larempteh: I only have my crown and this precious usej. — the beautiful girl gently brushed her ornate and colorful jewelry.

Napoleon (Chang): I thought you would have something more important that highlights your imprint.

Larempteh: More important than a crown?

Napoleon (Chang): A jewel, maybe?

Larempteh: A jewel? I have no jewel with me. Where do you want to go? You know what, I have to go, bye.

She got fed up turning around walking steps that were heard in annoyance while the queen was being arrested by that subject..

Napoleon (Chang): No, no, no! Wait wait! Do not go! We can talk about something else. I'm sorry I made a bad impression on me.

Larempteh: Well, you did that.

Napoleon (Chang): I offer my sincerest apologies ..

Larempteh: Apologies accepted. I have to go.

Yes, it also turned out to be a difficult girl to convince when something was wrong..

Napoleon (Chang): Wait!

Larempteh: And now what?

Napoleon (Chang): Should we owe another talk?

Larempteh: I have nothing to talk to you, don't waste my time in silly things.

Napoleon (Chang): Let's start over, yes?

He tried to change her mind when she hesitated too much to listen to him, but since the queen had a good heart, she didn't want to be rude..

Larempteh: Okay, what do you want?

Napoleon (Chang): Let's forget that topic and put it aside. I want to know you a little more thoroughly.

Larempteh: What? — she frowned strangely.

Napoleon (Chang): You know. Arrive in a friendly way. Ask yourself and tell me about you, for example, I don't know, if you have a fiance, the man who holds your destiny.

And she narrowed her eyes I don't understand anything she was talking about or rather, not understanding why so much insistence on exchanging dialogues..

Larempteh: Don't you think you're too young to be talking about these things? — she looked at the new one oddly.

Napoleon (Chang): Young?! I am huge enough for anything. I'm over a thousand years old. — the obsession of its size made it clear that he wasn't very smart.

Larempteh: What a character.. — she whispered, accommodating his voice. — No, in fact, I don't have a fiance. Moreover, I didn't even choose one when I had time.

Napoleon (Chang): But what about the boy you were talking to..?

Larempteh: You were spying on me? — she asked shocked.

Napoleon (Chang): No, no, no, no! It was happening and I saw you chatting with him. I thought I was your boyfriend. You are a very pretty young woman.

Larempteh: Thank you, ignoring the fact that I am 4000 years old and that I am a mummy in perfect conservation, I accept your compliment. — she frowned strangely when his neutral voice sighed. — No, Ahkmenrah and I, we're just good friends. I think our parents know each other but it doesn't happen from there. The rest is history as they usually say..

Napoleon (Chang): How interesting.. — was gradually moving away, he had already got the information he needed. — Well, I have to go somewhere else.. — and increasingly, the girl's distrust began to grow much more than before. — Adieu.. Ah, I mean, Goodbye.. — he sneaked out running with curtains ahead and then chased by some samurai.

The Egyptian girl was thoughtful, too. That tree was pretty weird ..

She did not know why but at that moment she felt herself entering a trance for a few thousandths of a second and how a faint feeling would take her out of it..

Leaving the beautiful fountains of the exhibition of The Imperial Gardens of China, it was not long without this discomfort happening again..

Larempteh: How strange. — and raised an eyebrow while looking to the side.

The three girls were not included to hear another part of the queen's plan reunited with two of her minions, so they had to remain in an interior hallway of the Egyptian hall..

Ahesut: It's all my fault, if I hadn't fallen asleep none of this would happen ..

Nehtatem: Stop complaining, now it's no use anymore..

Tahmenk didn't pay much attention to what they were talking about just by listening to two people talking loudly through another of the doors leading to the basement..

— John, this ancient piece should be in a museum in Cairo at the latest in a couple of days and is still here, corroborated by the director of the Eastern Museum who, for issues he did not want to explain to me, cursed us by keeping a “nice” conversation I had on the phone!

— I'm sorry, Mac..

— You are responsible for paperwork, where the hell do you have your head?

— The paper said it came from the Neapolitan area for the Smithsonian. — he defended himself by chewing a piece of bread.

— It's not Neapolitan, it's Meridian. And the delivery agreement is from London to Egypt. You're so silly! Who taught you to read, a bear?! How did they get you here..?

Tahmenk: Cairo.. — she whispered.

Nehtatem: What's up?

Tahmenk: Cairo!

And she ran away followed by the two girls..

#ahkmenrah #rami malek #night at the museum #natm

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diyunho · 5 years

Text

The Joker x Reader - “Lady Silence” Part 2

Frost’s younger sister came to live with him 6 months ago; one could say Y/N is a bit of an oddball because she doesn’t talk and she doesn’t like to be touched. The Joker allowed her to help the crew from time to time without knowing that the only reason for the woman’s presence amidst them was actually him.

You stretch a little bit and yawn, wanting to cuddle up in Shiro’s arms when you realize he’s not in bed; that makes you open one eye and after a few moments of confusion you see your husband standing by the windows.

“What time is it?” a sleepy Y/N inquires.

“Almost 6,” he smiles and you get on your elbow, signaling him to return by your side.

“It’s still early,” you slide down the pillows and he doesn’t need another invitation when you propose: “Let’s have a lazy morning.”

Shiro glares at the sunrise while running his fingers through his long hair, perfectly aware of how attractive you find his gesture. You even opened both eyes to savor the view: wearing nothing more than a pair of boxers, the head of the Ozunu clan knows that he doesn’t have to put too much effort in order to get his wife’s attention.

He snickers as soon as you yank him in your embrace and start covering his face in soft kisses; there’s nothing Shiro enjoys more besides the intimacy of a marriage he risked everything for, including succession to Yakuza leadership.

“I saw The Joker walking by,” he informs and you don’t seem surprised.

“Probably he can’t sleep and decided to explore the property.”

“Most than likely; maybe some stuff will look familiar,” your husband agrees and wants to share his thoughts on yesterday’s events but something about the tone in your voice stops him.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better partner in life,” you whisper and peck his lips. ”I really don’t know what I would do without you.”

Shiro touches your nose with his, paying attention since he knows you too well: you’re getting upset and he has an idea why.

“The honor is all mine,” he growls and hugs you tighter when the question echoes in the quiet bedroom:

“Do you know what I miss the most?” and your bottom lip quivers as you continue. “Our son sneaking in here at the crack of dawn and his little feet thumping on the floor… “

Shiro caresses the small of your back in a faint attempt to soothe you.

“Me too,” he sniffles and you start crying on his shoulder.

“I m-miss our b-baby,” the heartbroken Y/N barely manages to utter. “There’s so much silence without him…”

“I miss him too… more than anything…” the other grieving parent admits and wipes your tears. “I’ve been thinking lately…” and he hesitates for a few seconds,” that I would l like us to try for another baby. Hm?...”

“I’m…I’m scared…” you stutter because he brought it up in the past and your feelings haven’t changed. “What if something happens again?...”

“Just think about it, OK?” he kisses your temple. “There’s always a risk… yet I want us to try again when you’re ready…Alright?”

You nod a yes, grateful the man you loved since you were teenagers can be such a comfort after all the hardships life has thrown your way.

“Shiro…” you sigh, “can we get married again?”

Your husband tucks your hair behind the ear, having absolutely no objection to the candid request.

“Just you and me…I don’t care if we have a priest, a monk or a pastor… And my brother as a witness, just like the first time. I just need to say the words again, that’s all. Do you want to?”

The answer doesn’t disappoint:

“Of course I want to; who else am I going to remarry if not my girl?”

“Can we do it at The Shrine?” the emotional Y/N suggests.

“No better place,” he sadly smiles. “We can have someone here in the next hour. Are you sure you don’t want anything big this time though? When we got married 11 years ago, I was an outcast and we didn’t have money for a proper reception; now we could organize a lavish party.”

“No,” you shake your head. “Only me and you again, please.”

Your husband squeezes you closer to him, repeating your words:

“Only me and you…”

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

The Joker is taking a third left on a convoluted path towards the guest house, enjoying the labyrinth –like maze. He’s been inspecting the estate for almost two hours now and boredom didn’t settle in; pretty rare for The King of Gotham not to lose interest in such a trivial activity so here he is, still roaming around at 7:53am.

J suddenly sees you and Shiro emerging from an alley bordered by lighted Japanese lanterns; the breeze carries over bits and pieces of a dialogue he can’t understand. You are wearing a white summer dress and your husband opted for a light blue suit; his hair is gathered in a ponytail and yours is braided.

Not that he’s spying on purpose, but there’s something going on that makes The Joker stay behind the granite sculpture he happened to pass by. He sees Shiro breaking a small branch from a cherry blossom that he offers to his bride in exchange for a kiss and the couple resumes walking after a few seconds.

J leaves his temporary hiding spot and lingers by the statue before reprising his stroll, already having a goal in mind: go down the path you came from because it’s a new sector to investigate. He scarcely makes a few steps when he hears a stern command:

“Apologies Mister Joker, this area is reserved for family members. No exceptions,” one of the guards entrusted with securing the perimeter makes his presence known. J didn’t notice the man perfectly blending in with the landscape and he sure likes to think he has a sharp eye.

“I’m just going that way for a hike,” the stubborn guest tries to push it and as soon as his foot is up in the air for the next step, six more guards surface from the slight mist, completely blocking passage now. They are dressed in black and their faces are covered with a dark veil, just like the ones that The Clown Prince of Crime encountered at Frost’s house when he met Shiro for the first time.

J frowns, displeased at the small group’s action; they are actually part of the clan’s most skilled assassins and they take their duty very seriously. Something hard to comprehend for The Joker that believes no rules apply to him.

“I’m just taking a hike,” he sarcastically smirks.

“No trespassing!” another sentinel reiterates and touches his sword as a last warning they are ready to act if the visitor doesn’t turn around. “Family members only unless you have special permission from them to go to The Shrine! Please go back Mister Joker.”

“And what happens if I don’t, huh?” J cracks his neck, defying all common sense like he always does.

“Let him pass! Mister Joker is with me!” Frost yells and quickens the pace; he is going back to the main house after spending 5 extra minutes at The Shrine in order to make sure the monk called to officiate the short ceremony was properly escorted back at the eastern gates.

The guards obey and J rushes by them with contempt, pissed he didn’t manage to control the situation without Jonny’s intervention.

Frost waits for his boss then they start walking together.

“What’s with the restricted area, hm?” The Joker grumbles.

“It’s a private area, sir. Nobody is allowed here unless they’re family or has Shiro’s or my sister’s consent,” your brother tries to explain the privacy concept to a grouchy employer that has trouble grasping such notions.

“Oh yeah? Why?! Is there a secret treasure buried here…” and he halts his tirade as soon as he sees the Japanese style Shrine filled with burning candles and incenses.”…or something?” he finished the sentence, not sure about what he’s looking at.

“Sir…” Frost respectfully lowers his voice and leads The Joker near the sanctuary. “This is a shrine build in the honor of my nephew Haruto, my sister and Shiro’s only child. He died almost two years ago from leukemia…” Jonny bites his lip and lights up more incenses from the pile waiting to be burned. “He was three years old,” Jonny gestures towards the picture of a cute little boy decorated with Kanji alphabet symbols for his name: Haruto Ozunu. Next to the picture there’s a glass case containing a grey teddy bear: your son’s favorite toy.

The Joker stares at the multitude of flowers and bonsai trees beautifully adorning The Shrine, rather curious about the revelation.

“I saw your brother-in-law and your sister earlier,” J informs. “Were they here?” he asks although the reply is evident.

“Yes, sir. They renewed their vows, a spur of the moment thing.”

The Joker is somewhat surprised at the news simply because he doesn’t see the point of remarrying your spouse; maybe if he would have had someone’s unconditioned love and loyalty after what happened to him, he could have a better understanding of such matters. Maybe his fate would have been different too. But he didn’t, thus things are the way they are.

Frost rearranges some candles that are almost out, replacing them with new ones.

“Losing Haruto was very painful for them,” he continues. “My sister didn’t say a word for months; both didn’t really eat or sleep. I mean, even now she only says things to me and Shiro; doesn’t talk to anybody else unless she truly wants to.”

Jonny pauses while taking a deep bow in front of The Shrine, preparing to leave.

“Are you going to get in trouble for bringing me to this place?” J inquires even if he actually doesn’t give a damn about it.

“No,” Frost confidently responds. “Y/N and Shiro won’t object to my decision.”

“You think so?” The Joker smacks his lips while wishing for the opposite.

“The guards alerted them they let you trespass seconds after it happened; it’s their job. Since they weren’t sent to kick you out of here or worse, it means my sister and her husband were ok with you being at The Shrine.”

“I’m humbled by such unexpected privilege,” the ignorant answer makes your brother reprimand his boss’s conduct for once:

“You are the first guest they ever let back here, Mister J! Think about that!” Jonny furrows his eyebrows and the annoyance is so obvious it makes J hiss:

“Are you lecturing me Frost?!”

Your brother decides not to deepen the apparent surfacing conflict and instead diverts the discussion towards another topic:

“Let’s return to the house, sir. I’m sure they are waiting for us.”

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

The Joker barely hears the conversation you’re having with Shiro in Japanese and the chat stops when his presence is detected.

“We started without you,” Shiro announces when Frost and The Joker finally join the table for breakfast. “I think it’s good to eat outside again since the weather is so nice,” he takes a bite from his plate and J has to comment:

“I hear congratulations are in order,” he grins and your husband takes your hand and kisses it, loving the smile flourishing on your lips.

“Thank you,” Shiro replies.

You play with your hair, J’s attention switching towards the delicate cherry blossom received from your husband earlier: you keep on caressing the delicate flowers twisted in your braid, already planning to save them since they are worth more than all the diamonds you possess.

“Mister Joker,” your spouse addresses the absent minded Clown Prince of Crime, “the merchandise will arrive tomorrow night. There is a slight delay due to the fact that I am adding more trucks to the convoy.”

“That’s fine…” J mumbles, averting his eyes when he realizes you caught him gazing your way; not because he’s shy or anything similar, but because he’s inexplicably puzzled about the strange feeling in his heart: it’s almost like those flowers remind The Joker of something, yet he’s not sure of what.

“Are you still having the poker party tonight?” Frost asks and you nod a yes.

“Of course,” Shiro reiterates. “Would you like to join us?” the invitation is extended to the guest.

J lifts his shoulders up, picking some food to eat from all the varieties nicely arranged in the middle of the table.

“Yeah, sure. I have nothing better to do.”

“Excellent,” your husband grins. “I must tell you traditional Japanese attire is required for poker night.”

“I don’t own a kimono.”

“You can borrow one, Mister Joker; we have a room full,” Shiro suggests.

“I suppose I can,” the proposal is accepted without too much debate; for some reason the green haired man doesn’t detest the idea.

“Yes?” your husband encourages the hesitant guard that just arrived at the gathering, not sure if he should interrupt or not.

“Shiro-san. Mistress,” he bows and hurries up to your side. He whispers something that makes you frown and there is such an evident change in your spouse’s mood The Joker actually wonders what the heck is going on.

“Bring him here,” Shiro grumbles and the guard bows again, disappearing shorty after.

“Something wrong?” Frost looks at both of you, uneasy.

You scoff and the leader of the Ozunu clan sucks on his teeth, deeply bothered about the news.

The Joker sips on his orange juice, watching two women bringing over a young man in his early twenties. He keeps on trying to escape their grip but it’s useless; they won’t let go.

The captors forcefully drag him over near the table, the woman to his left kicking his shin so hard he falls to the ground on his knees, not daring to struggle anymore.

“I heard you talked about my wife and referred to her with a certain term that I hate!” Shiro snarls, his eyes burning with disgust.

Takeshi nervously tries to explain his mistake, aware he landed in very hot waters due to his own stupidity.

“I… I swear I didn’t mean it like that, Shiro- san. Mistress…” he calls while you ignore him. “Mistress, I swear it was completely taken out of context…”

You don’t seem to care about his reasoning and your husband shouts with such intensity it makes the guilty party shrivel up.

“And what context would make it acceptable for you to disrespect my wife by calling her an outsider??!!”

The Joker is watching the scene quite fascinated first of all because he loves this kind of stuff and secondly because your husband seems to have transformed into an entirely different individual: Shiro Ozunu might be different than his father, but it’s not necessarily a good thing.

“I’m …I’m sorry… I really didn’t…” and Takeshi doesn’t get to finish his apology.

“Who gave you a second chance when you messed up badly, hm?” your husband slams his fist on the table, fed up with the useless conversation.

“Mis... Mistress did…” the young man stutters, more and more anxious.

“And who insisted we should keep you because you have nowhere else to go when you majorly fucked up a third time?” the interrogation resumes.

“Mistress…Mistress did…” the faint reply makes your husband snap:

“You mean the outsider??!!”

Shiro grabs a knife from the table and stabs the kneeled offender with such brutality his collar bone loudly cracks. Takeshi screams in pain, bending over until his forehead touches the grass.

“The cut runs deep and the blade is aimed towards your heart,” your husband describes what he just did. “It’s very close to one of the main arteries; if you take the knife out yourself, you will graze it and bleed to death. I know how to take out the blade without killing you, but I don’t want to. The other person that can do that is the outsider,” he ironically underlines the word. “It’s up to her if she wants to give you a fourth chance. I wouldn’t!”

The young man is absolutely terrified and gathers his strength in order to lift his head up, the throbbing ache making him shiver.

“Mistress…Mistress please…” he begs and you calmly drink water, neglecting to react.“I’m v- very sorry, I meant no disrespect,” he touches the injury, his fingers wrapping around the handle sticking out of the flesh. “Mistress…please…” he pleads again and you finally glare at the victim.

You snatch one of the silk napkins from the table and get up, irritated at Takeshi’s whining. The Joker sees you going around his chair and stomp louder once you are closer to the young man; he actually wonders if you’ll forgive him. There is so much resentment written on your face it totally delights The King of Gotham: he has to admit that being around Shiro and Y/N Ozunu is not boring at all.

Takeshi whimpers when you lift his chin up, immediately closing his eyes when you slap him; it stings badly but doesn’t compare to the stabbing wound. You push his fingers aside from the knife, firmly clutching to the handle for a few moments while trying to balance the compression applied to it. He groans when the blade tilts inwards and screams as the knife is taken out of his injured muscles. A few drops of blood stain your white dress, the red liquid quickly soaking the napkin you cover his lesion with.

The young man tries to cling to you because everything is starting to spin so fast he can’t process how close he is to lose consciousness. Takeshi opens his mouth because he wants to thank Y/N for having mercy on him, yet no sound comes out. The ache is so unbearable that it makes his body convulse and he collapses at your feet, hearing Shiro barking at the two women before fainting:

“Get this idiot out of my sight and patch him up!”

***********

J is trying on a sixth kimono, not being able to decide if this is the one he wants to wear at the poker party. The color and patterns are very nice: gold and blue koi fish against a light grey, velvety background. He turns and admires himself in the huge mirrors, thrilled that this particular garment makes his eyes stand out.

The Joker puckers his lips, straining to find some energy for the evening planned ahead; he’s been awake since 3am and now it’s past 7 o’clock at night. He slowly spins so he can analyze his reflection from all angles, vanity making him smirk wider.

“Maybe this one,” he yawns and crashes on the couch, shoving the decorative pillows around until he’s comfortable enough to relax. J was told the other guests will arrive in less than two hours so there’s time to take a nap. He punches the pillow under his neck to fluff it up on the sides, paying attention to the noise: Shiro just told you a joke and your laughter reaches the room where The Joker was left alone to try kimonos.

The sound fades, J’s eyelids getting heavier despite his efforts to stay alert. He impatiently bounces his legs and the movement diminishes soon along with his will to fight off the exhaustion. The Joker’s tired brain doesn’t even acknowledge the ruckus created outdoors by the crew appointed to get things ready for the poker party on the terrace.

A few minutes pass and J mutters in his daze, clenching his fists together.

In the dream he sees his hand reaching for a branch full of cherry blossoms, breaking a few flowers and playfully shaking them to make sure no petals will fly in the wind.

“For you,” The Joker discerns his voice saying as he places the delicate flowers behind Y/N’s left ear. She looks so young, just like in the pictures scattered around the Ozunu residence, only 17 back then.

The girl sweetly smiles as he keeps on caressing her hair and the 20 years old Joker can’t help it:

“You’re so pretty…” he confesses and leans over to kiss Y/N; she doesn’t reject him and his heart is beating so fast it’s deafening. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to do that…” the excuse follows his bold gesture simply because he realizes why he wasn’t pushed away: Y/N seems petrified and definitely taken by surprise.

Why are you looking at him like that?!

The Joker feels his cheeks burning, embarrassed at you reaction.

“Just… just forget it, ok?” he grumbles and takes a step back, regretting his dumb decision of kissing Shiro’s girlfriend.

“It’s fine,” you smile again, not knowing what else to say. “Where are you going?” Y/N sighs when he starts walking away. “Damian, come back please!“

J sprints towards the parking lot, his legs stiff from the humiliating experience he seeks to forget as soon as possible. He’s so distracted he bumps into someone and the impact abruptly wakes up The Joker: he gasps for air, his head pounding with the most horrible migraine.

He tries to get up from the couch but he’s so dizzy he falls back on the cushions.

“Dammit…” he moans when the confusion in his mind is not clearing up.

The knock on the door makes a bit more attentive to his surroundings and merely utters:

“Yeah?...” he pauses and you enter the room to check up on him. “Hey Silence,” J greets and strenuously exhales. “I have a terrible headache,” he rubs his temples and you approach, a bit worried since he seems completely drained. “Can you help?”

You nod a yes and swiftly move near the couch, pulling him up against the soft frame. Y/N begins to massage The Joker’s shoulders and searches for the pressure point under his skin, quickly pinching the tissue once it’s found. He senses the intense pain that comes with the procedure and then numbness takes over as The Clown Prince of Crime enjoys relief given by the skillful Y/N.

You notice J is feverish and the glossy eyes indicate that something’s not quite right: physically he might be fine, but the current state he’s in makes you wonder if he should rest instead of attending the party.

Frost’s sister has no idea that The Joker’s present situation is due to a simple fact: what he dreamed wasn’t just a strange dream, but a triggered memory about something that happened many years ago.

Part 1: diyunho(.)tumblr(.)com/post/182229828411/the-joker-x-reader-lady-silence

Part 2: diyunho(.)tumblr(.)com/post/183762832056/the-joker-x-reader-lady-silence-part-3