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dragonnwriter · 22 days

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Inviolable Bindings

Aemondxfem!OC and Aegonxfem!OC

All Chapters Here!

Chapter 40

**NSFW 18+**

Holding the meeting both under the cover of nightfall and once the busyness of the castle had slowed seemed to make the most sense. Viserra mostly felt dread in anticipation of it all, but found distraction in rehearsing each way she thought things might go. There was not much known about the dealings of the Master of Whisperers and in truth she did not know how to appeal to whatever sense of loyalty or desires that drove him.

Another council meeting had been called in the afternoon and it was after that she approached him. He seemed more than eager to meet with her privately, something that somehow both did and did not surprise her. Just before the hour of the owl he would come, giving her strict instructions to wait in her rooms until that time came.

As she sat on the edge of the sofa by the fire, the hours of the night could not have passed any slower. When she had almost lost hope that he would come, her focus shifted from the dancing flames to the faint sound of grinding stone from behind the large tapestry on the wall. The moment she realized Larys had come from the passageways within the walls, her stomach dropped. This should not have been a surprise that he had known about them. Yet somehow, it still made her uneasy.

“Good evening, My Lady,” he greeted in such a casual manner that it did nothing but reinforce her unease. He took his time making it over to the other armchair across from her, the smile on his face not faltering for even a second.

“Good evening, Lord Larys.” Viserra forced a smile in return, realizing now that she had initiated the start of a game she wasn’t sure she wanted to be playing.

“I thought there might be an point in which you would seek me out,” he began. “You have maintained a quiet yet respected presence since arriving here in King’s Landing, something I truthfully did not expect.”

It took a moment to comprehend what he had meant and it must have been the brief confusion on her face that caused him to elaborate more.

“I have heard many things about you over the years since word of your dragon reached across the Narrow Sea,” he explained. “The Volantene girl besting men in the pits at the age most girls were hoping to find themselves in the eye of some other young lad.” Larys paused for a moment as if giving her time to respond before continuing. “Much was in these letters detailing your skill with the sword and the rumored dragon you mounted and flew about the Free Cities. But honestly, I did not know how much truth there was to it all.”

“ You were the one responsible for summoning me here.” Viserra realized, her words more of a statement than a question. She had quickly come to the conclusion that it was not the late King’s idea to bring her to the Red Keep, but she did not think it had gone further than Otto.

“Indeed, I was the one who presented it to the Hand…well, the previous Hand.”

“I see,” she observed.

“Though with all the talk of the fighting you have done, and even the injuries you survived.” Larys brought his finger to his chest, dragging it to his hip in the same fashion of her own scar that crossed her belly. “No one happened to mention that you also were of striking Valyrian beauty.”

Viserra’s eyebrows furrowed at the comment on her appearance. The way the man was spoke to her did nothing but further her dislike of him. “Is there something that would lead you to think I might appear otherwise?”

“I presume my focus was solely on the logistics and probability that the rumors were true. It completely evaded my mind, I admit. If I had known beforehand, I might have anticipated Aegon’s interest in you.” He tapped his finger on the cane held firmly in his hand, briefly glancing at the stick before looking back. “But do you know what really took me by surprise? That his brother seems just as infatuated with you.”

This was the second time she had been confronted about both Aegon and Aemond. Though in truth, she thought the first could hardly count. Alicent had not been able not even get the words out of her mouth, holding fast to the hopefulness that denial gave her.

Looking back at Larys, she felt the weight of his gaze that pierced right through her. In defense, she folded her arms across her chest. “What of it?” She retorted.

“I am truthfully quite impressed,” he admitted, shifting in his seat. “You have had a significant influence on both of them yet no one has really seemed to notice.”

Inhaling slowly, she was unsure if his words had been meant as an accusation. “Do you doubt that my intentions have not been for the good of the realm, Lord Larys?” she replied, her voice steady despite the irritation that had begun burning in her chest.

Larys nodded, his expression unchanging. “Of course not. I believe that your heart does not desire the power of the throne. Unlike most here, you were not drawn to the pit of vipers that attempt to snake their way in for their own personal gain.”

“I did not come here to seek out the throne,” she repeated, making sure they saw eye to eye on such a treasonous concept . “I have no desire to be shackled to the responsibilities that come with such power.”

“Indeed,” he paused. “Though I also believe you do not play amongst the vipers because you are twisted in your own web made between the three of you.”

Viserra’s brows furrowed as he doubled down on the accusation. “It is quite the precarious position to be in, I assure you. Yet it is something I cannot explain to someone who is unlike any of us,” she narrowed her eyes. “Someone who does not know what it is like to be driven by such fire in your veins.”

Humming thoughtfully, Larys seemed to consider her words. “I do not claim to understand them, my dear. Such things have been happening between Targaryens for as long as the histories have been written.”

Viserra pursed her lips, irritated that things had shifted so far from what she had hoped would be discussed between them. “This is not why I asked to meet with you, Larys.” She enunciated his name in an attempt to level the playing field. “Though I am sure you have enjoyed revealing the depth of your knowledge to me, my concerns are for Helaena and the children’s safety,” she confessed in an attempt to address her original intentions. Surprisingly, it took little effort to shift the direction of the conversation.

“That fear is not unfounded.” Larys agreed. “But what does this have to do with me?”

Viserra scowled but ignored his attempt at appearing ignorant. “I worry that if we are to lose this war and Rhaenyra takes the city, she will not be merciful to the Queen and her children.”

“Another has also come to me with this concern,” he paused, evident that he was now interested in what she had to say. “What do you propose?”

“My father holds significant status and power in Volantis,” she began. “He would be able to secure their safety if they could reach the city.”

For the first time, Larys’ face dropped his usual nonchalant facade and shifted into one of careful consideration. “I am listening.”

“I do not have the means to get them there,” she admitted. “I do not even have the means to confidently get a letter into my father’s hands without risk of interception. But this is why I have come to you.”

There was a long pause, both sitting quietly in the room listening only to the fire crackling. Viserra felt hopeful for the first time in this meeting as she carefully studied the way Larys processed her words.

“I must say I am surprised that amidst all that is brewing within these castle walls, your concern for the girl and her children are what you have come to me for.” He did not attempt to hide the curiosity in his voice, again tapping on the cane as if he were contemplating her intentions.

“I have written a letter,” she hesitated, aware of the high stakes that she played with. “It is written in Valyrian and no names are used to put us at risk. But it must reach my father discreetly.”

Larys leaned forward, extending his hand in a silent request for said letter.

Viserra let out a forced exhale but did not offer it to him. The parting words of her father again sounded in her mind. She knew that this did not come without risk but found peace with the decision knowing she was not going into it ignorantly.

“What would you ask in return?” She inquired, realizing that if he were to help her she would most likely owe him a debt.

Larys’ smile returned to his face, widening as he paused while thinking over her question. “A favor, to be named at a later date. And only once you’ve received confirmation of your letter’s delivery.”

Viserra met his eyes with furrowed brows. The thought of agreeing without knowing the debt she owed only worsened her unease. It was a deal full of potential consequences yet she knew she would go to great lengths to secure the safety of Helaena and the two children.

Rising to her feet, she finally offered him the letter, watching carefully as he tucked it into his pocket. Without another word and only a small nod of his head, Larys took his leave from the room, but this time through the chamber doors.

Though only lasting a few minutes, the interaction had left her feeling exhausted. Both the weight of the agreement and the disgust she felt being in the same room as that man felt unbearingly heavy. She allowed herself a moment to collect her feelings before collapsing on the bed and burying her head in her hands.

Eventually, she forced herself to stop ruminating on it all, realizing that the sun would be rising in only a few hours. Discarding her shoes and her dress in a heap on the floor, she crawled into the blankets and shut her eyes.

Sunrise came sooner than she hoped and the hours she had spent sleeping were not restful. The harsh light and noises of her chambermaids scurrying about in her room seemed to sour her mood before her feet even touched the ground.

Viserra dressed quickly and found she had little patience for Elia fixing her hair into anything but a simple braid. After securing the blade to her hip over the plain silk gown, she didn’t even care to take a look at herself in the mirror before leaving her rooms.

Before she could even reach the bottom of the Serpentine Steps, one of the Kingsguard had found her to inform her that the Small Council was being summoned once again. Knowing that she would not be able to break her fast before being required to attend the meeting only worsened her mood further.

The council assembled quickly but it was Alicent’s attendance that piqued Viserra’s curiosity. She had not come to the last few meetings yet today she seemed eagerly at attention. But as Aemond and Cole began with their explanation of plans to leave for Harrenhal on the morrow, it became clear that this was the first Alicent had heard of it. The concern radiated from her body and remained almost palpable until the meeting concluded.

“Our focus is clear and sure.” Aemond said confidently. “My uncle represents our greatest threat. There is no better time to act than now.”

Alicent had stayed silent until then, but as everything came to a close she could not continue to hold her tongue. “Do you understand the risks, Aemond?” She whispered through her teeth. Viserra watched carefully but did not intervene.

“I am aware, Mother. But we must act before the dragonseeds join with Daemon and they come to take the city.” His voice was low, and it was clear that he did not care for her concerns. “We cannot let fear dictate our course.”

The room was suddenly silent and the air filled with tension between them. Alicent seemed to be the only one who had a problem with his intention to leave, or at least she was the only one to speak up against it. Frustrated, she looked next to Viserra as if she were silently pleading for her to step in and agree. Alicent did not know it, but she had already protested his decision to go and she knew that the concerns only fell on deaf ears.

The council hurried their dismissal, not wanting to become caught in the middle of whatever was happening. Though as Viserra turned to exit herself, she took one last look back to see Alicent still relenting at her son. This was a hopeless battle she would need to fight alone.

Walking back through the hallways, she let the pleasant aroma coming from the kitchens draw her in. If anything, she might try and lift her mood with a treat. The combination of being tired and hungry wouldn’t do her or anyone else favors. Having skipped a morning meal, she eagerly grabbed one of the freshly baked hand pies and held conversation with a few of the kitchen ladies there.

Once satisfied and finding herself in a much better mood, Viserra began making her way back through the Keep. As she finally entered the safety of the Holdfast, her mind deviated from her original plans and she instead found herself in front of the King’s chambers. Without Alicent there to dissuade her from bothering her son, she thought she might take the chance to seek out another moment with Aegon.

The guards acknowledged her with a nod as she slipped through the doors. For mid morning, the room was rather dark and she quickly made her way to the large windows to open the curtains. Aegon did not flinch as the sunlight crossed the room and onto the large bed. For a moment, she studied the peaceful expression on his face, something so different than what was happening beyond his walls.

Against her better judgment, she climbed onto the bed beside him, supporting herself on her elbow and just savoring the quietness of the moment. She began to run her fingers through his hair, brushing the strands from his forehead and realized even then, he did not stir. It was obvious that he was medicated that morning and knowing he remained so sedated, she began mindlessly telling him of Aemond’s plans and her worries about them.

The exhaustion from the previous night quickly caught up with her as she laid in the quiet room. Listening only to Aegon’s steady breathing, she realized that if she let her eyes close for even a moment, she would most likely fall asleep.

The sudden clatter of something hitting the hard floor caused Viserra to snap back to reality. Looking over her shoulder, she realized that Grand Maester Orwyle and his young apprentice now stood in the doorway. While the young boy seemed very much surprised, the Grand Maester did not divert from his calm demeanor.

“My apologies, My Lady. I had not been informed of your visit,” he remarked in a curiously neutral tone.

For whatever reason, Viserra felt slightly defensive for being so caught off guard. “I was not aware that I needed your permission to visit,” she retorted, sitting back up and bringing her legs off the side of the bed.

He ignored her response but continued on with his intentions. “The King was awake in the early morning, but he had taken more milk of the poppy in preparation for us to change his bandages,” he explained.

“Very well. I have no intentions to be in your way as you care for him,” she spoke, standing quickly then making her way past them out the doors. As she passed them, the young boy did not dare meet her eyes, yet the Grand Maester delivered what felt like a forced smile.

After leaving the King’s chambers, she did not feel the need to find herself in any more unpleasant situations. And as soon as she closed her own chamber doors, she plopped herself down on the familiar and soft sofa. She pulled the blade off of her hip and removed it from its scabbard, holding it above her head playfully and smiling at the way it reflected in the day's light. Even laying there on her back, the heaviness of the sword was balanced perfectly. Admiring the craftsmanship and the distinct pattern of Valyrian steel, she was reminded that this blade had yet to see the chaos of real battle in her own hands.

Viserra let out a sigh, resheathing it carefully before placing it beside her against the sofa. The anticipation of Aemond leaving for Harrenhal on the morrow weighed heavily on her mind. For now, there were no questions about anyone’s location and if they were safe. But come tomorrow, Aemond would begin the march up north and those remaining in the Keep would go days between knowing where and how he was.

To stay distracted and out of her own thoughts, Viserra found a few mundane tasks to occupy herself with until she was unexpectedly called to the dining hall. She had suspicion that they would eat supper that night together, and in any other circumstance she would have found it enjoyable.

From the moment she entered the dining hall, she was greeted with the same tension they had left in the Small Council chambers. Alicent did not even have to speak to relay her unsaid disapproval, her usual regal composure was not enough to mask the depth of her concern.

Aemond, in contrast, did not seem to acknowledge the solemn mood of anyone else. Wearing the Conqueror’s crown neatly on his head, he was completely unbothered by the weight of the next day. Each time Viserra drew her attention to him, she found the corners of his mouth just slightly upturned and a brightness in his eye that could not be dimmed.

Finding the wine unusually sweet that evening, Viserra allowed herself a few cups in an attempt to bring herself to Aemond’s level. It was only after requesting her third refill did she finally feel herself relax and be able to be present in the moment. Mayhaps she would share the same excitement, if only she had been leaving with him.

Not wanting to linger any longer than she needed, Alicent had been the first to depart. Walking to Aemond first, she left a heartfelt kiss on his head before turning to head out the doors. He watched her leave and turned to continue with his dinner without missing a beat. After sitting a few more moments with only the clanking of the silverware sounding in the room, Viserra realized that he was now eyeing her as she finished the last of her cup of wine. With his eyebrow raised, he stood gracefully and made his way over to where she was seated.

At first, she watched him with suspicion, not sure of his intentions. Yet when he extended his hand out, she found herself taking it without a second thought. He helped her rise to her feet and a wave of dizziness washed over her. Despite the reminder of the wine’s effects, she was acutely aware of Aemond’s arm slipping around her elbow and the closeness they now shared.

They walked the familiar path back through the corridors and Viserra leaned onto Aemond’s shoulder, not caring if anyone saw them. As they approached the doors to her own rooms, his grasp on her arm remained firm and he kept a steady stride as they passed.

“Unless you wish to retire to bed this evening, come with me,” he spoke, knowing that she would indeed not wish for that.

Bringing her other hand up to hold his arm as well, she let her willingness to keep walking speak for itself. The last cup of wine she had finished in the dining hall felt like it had taken effect and her face felt irritatingly flushed. Looking up to Aemond as he opened the doors to his chambers, she realized that much of her worry and concern about him leaving was rooted in her desire to join him.

As soon as they were in the safe isolation of the dark room, Aemond shut the doors and the rest of the world out. Immediately heading over to the bed, he sat down and watched as she remained standing across the room. A pang of irritation, or mayhaps a bit of jealousy, washed over her, yet he met her with a smug smile as they sorted out the dynamic of this interaction.

Viserra was grateful for the wine as it made it easy to enjoy a bit of tension between them. Her lips mirrored his with a smirk and she finally walked over. As soon as she was within arms reach, he wrapped his arms around her bottom half before pulling her in between his legs.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still while neither of them looked away or attempted to make another move. It was only when Viserra darted her eyes up to the crown sitting on his head that he gave her waist a tight squeeze.

“It looks better on me than it ever did on him,” he proclaimed, his eye dark and full of fire.

The remark caused Viserra to purse her lips and grab him by the chin. “Aemond,” she warned. While she often would entertain his bold statements, she refused to indulge in a comment such as that. Especially in light of Aegon waking the day before.

Undeterred, he met her with another self assured smirk. There was no denying the certain allure that his confidence seemed to draw in. But that was something she would not admit out loud, even if it stirred her own fire within her.

Viserra narrowed her eyes, her grip on his chin tightening as she lifted it up to intensify the warning gaze. Yet as he took in her flushed cheeks and the scowl on her face, he could not help but enjoy her reaction, his smirk widening.

"Somehow, I can’t imagine you any less arrogant," she remarked, her tone softening just slightly as she let go of his chin and found her hands a place on his shoulders.

Aemond’s mouth parted slightly and it was obvious that his confidence was bolstered by her words. Placing his hands on her hips, he pulled her in even closer. “And what does that say about you?” He asked, his voice low and laced with amusement.

Her cheeks flushed a shade darker as she felt the heat course through her veins. Leaning in closer, she let her lips graze the top of his ear. “It does not matter,” she whispered.

His grip on her tightened and she felt his fingers dig into her hips. “I’d say we are two sides of the same coin.” His voice dropped even lower and with one hand, he unlatched the belt holding her blade to her body.

She looked down to watch him disarm her, but as she brought her eyes back up, he wasted no time in taking her lips with his. The heat between them was tense yet they burned together just the same. Deepening the kiss, Viserra lost the desire to discuss anything that involved both him and their position in the Realm.

Without breaking their lips apart, she climbed her way onto his lap, not bothering with adjusting her skirts. His fingers began to work at the laces on the back of the dress and she felt the loosening of the fabric on her shoulders and chest. Returning the favor, she quickly undid the line of buckles on his tunic and helped him shrug it off.

Viserra found her patience to be limited as she broke the kiss in an attempt to hasten the removal of their clothing. Without asking or waiting for permission, she brought her hands up to remove the patch, careful to not disturb the black and rubied crown still sitting neatly atop his head.

Throwing it aside, she let herself admire the shirtless man in front of her, unable to suppress a smile as she took in the beauty of his scarred face. Aemond mirrored the gesture, though he wore something more of a smirk. His hands came up and carefully lifted the crown from his head, but rather than placing it down beside them, he brought it up to position it upon hers.

Wide eyed and silent, Viserra searched Aemond’s face for any hint of what was going through his mind. He appeared to take great delight in the sight of her wearing nothing but the crown before him. Gently, his thumb reached up to pull at her bottom lip, slowly tracing a line all the way down to her navel.

Though overall Viserra had managed to remain composed, the gooseflesh that suddenly riddled her skin gave away the desire and arousal she was feeling. In that moment, she worked hard to keep her breath steadied. Aemond’s hands left her belly and found their way up to her breasts, cupping each one while gently brushing his thumbs over her quickly reacting nipples.

Letting out a forced exhale, Viserra let her head fall back slightly before feeling the crown slip forward on her head. After fixing it to make sure it would not fall, her hands found their place on his shoulders once more and she let her nails press into his skin.

When she felt his soft lips make contact with her breast, she broke the silence and let out a breathy moan. Motivated by her response, Aemond continued to devote his mouth to her chest, pulling her in by the hips so that she now pressed against his cock.

The friction of the touch was intense but it was simply not enough to satisfy either of them. After only a few moments of what felt like cruel teasing, Viserra caught his eye and they seemed to come to a mutual understanding. Rising up on her knees just enough for her to mount him, she carefully brought herself back down to take him within her.

It was Aemond’s turn to end his silence, a low groan leaving his mouth as he felt her slowly begin to accommodate him. She watched as he closed his now glazed over eye, fighting with himself to maintain control as she let a satisfied smile pull at her lips.

They both allowed themselves a moment to simply enjoy the satisfaction that came with such an intimate connection before either of them made another move. Viserra reached up to steady the crown on her head once more before leaning forward to brace herself on his chest and slowly beginning their dance as she set the pace.

Aemond let her take control at first, his own hands roaming over her body before finding their place back to her hips. Eventually, he began guiding her movements in a faster rhythm, his fingers pressed firmly into the soft skin of her rump. Each time their bodies met, Viserra could feel the ball tightening within her lower abdomen. Her nails dug into his skin even more and she did not care in the least about the marks that were left in their place.

Between shared moans and shaky breaths, their lips found each other and hungrily met in a sloppy union. Aemond brought her hips to his with even more urgency, beginning the final chase to his release. As she felt her own walls tighten around him, she toppled into her orgasm, coping with the intensity by pulling his bottom lip in between her teeth and biting down.

“Fuck,” he groaned into her mouth, finding that the unexpected pain only enhanced all of the sensations in that moment. Aemond’s hands suddenly held her trembling hips flush with his, holding her in place as he finally spilled himself within her. Viserra let go of his lip and wrapped her arms around his neck, collapsing on him as she savored the last of him pulsating inside her..

Neither spoke a word as they savored the intensity of the moment. Both found themselves to be quite out of breath, and it took a few minutes for their breathing to gradually return back to normal.

Viserra was the first to make a move, lifting herself off of his lap and settling on one hip at his side. Aemond leaned back and turned to her, his hand brushing a loose strand of hair from her face and straightening the crooked crown on her head. She gave him a soft smile and watched as he proceeded to run his eyes over her jawline down to her chest.

“I am going to need that back before the nights’ end,” he spoke, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

With raised brows, Viserra let out a laugh. “Take it back now, if you want it,” she offered, reaching up with her free hand to remove the heavy metal piece. “This is your wish, not mine.”

But Aemond intercepted the motion, his hand firmly grasping her wrist. “Leave it,” he insisted.

Viserra studied his face again, trying to figure him out. His serious tone and the firm hold he had on her wrist left no room to doubt that he meant what he had said. She rolled her eyes but obliged and did not make another attempt to remove the crown. Leaning in, she gently pressed her lips against his.

Aemond returned the kiss without hesitation, his hand still holding onto her as if he were afraid she would not listen. When she noticed that the usually sweet taste of his lips now hinted of warm metal, she pulled back. Wiping her bottom lip with her thumb, she discovered a small amount of blood. She quickly realized that she had bitten him quite hard, a bold move that she had not intended to take so far.

A mixture of guilt and arousal washed over her, unsure of how he would respond to the assault. Aemond, however, only widened his grin, his eye lit up as he looked at her. Reaching out, he brought her thumb to his mouth, running it over the swollen bump.

A cold shiver ran down Viserra’s spine and she felt her heartbeat begin thumping in her chest. Watching his fire burn over something like this both thrilled and unnerved her. In that moment, she recognized they both understood the darker threads woven in the other, that they were truly bound in a way others could not even attempt to understand.

Aemond released her thumb from his grip and brought himself closer to her ear. “I am eager for the day we both step on the battlefield,” he spoke, his warm breath tickling her skin.

“I hope to have the chance,” she quipped, feeling the fire in her chest begin to smolder with the return of their realities . She reminded herself that they both had caught the other veering recklessly into situations that would have been better handled with a level head. Though fiery impulsiveness was in their blood, it was something that needed to be managed in a way that ensured they survived each move on the warfront. “Promise me, Aemond,” she began, her gaze locked in with his. “You will not let this burning desire to eradicate your uncle blind your senses.”

Aemond looked amused at her words, but as he opened his mouth to speak, she quickly continued on.

“If you meet your death in Harrenhal before ever letting me have the chance to join you in battle, I won’t only be disappointed, I will be quite angry,” she vowed.

Aemond shut his mouth and he pulled his lips into another smile. “I promise you,” he affirmed. “I will not die without giving you that chance.”

A forced exhale left her mouth as she rolled her eyes and leaned onto the arm supporting her. Words could only mean so much, but she would have to find some sort of peace in Aemond’s promise. And in that moment, her only option was to enjoy these last few hours before knowing that the coming days would be long as they awaited word of the army’s arrival and Aemond’s success in the Riverlands.

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rafor · 5 months

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Chapter 59 - King Zain - The Glitch

It had been only a few hours since Freya returned to us when we faced a grave crisis. Freya came to me in tears and begged me to connect with Vesper through our vision connection. She said it was about our kingdom. I did as she asked, and I saw Vesper’s anxious face on the other side. He told us that we had received an ultimatum from the kingdom of the Crashing Thunder, a kingdom that was supposed to be our ally through our pact with Aura. The ultimatum bore the signature of King Zain himself, and it demanded that we either surrender or execute the noble wyvern Leo and send his head to them. I was shocked and outraged by this unreasonable request. How could King Zain, who had a reputation for being honorable, treat us like this? How could he threaten an ally over one individual? We had some time to respond, but not much. The ultimatum gave us thirty days to reply and seven days to carry out their order. But I had no intention of complying. Leo was innocent, and he was our friend. I would not let anyone harm him or make our kingdom look weak and submissive.

I made a vision connection with Aura immediately, hoping that she would help us resolve this crisis. She was the most respected dragon in the alliance, and she had influence over King Zain. But to my dismay, she said she could do nothing about it. She apologized and locked me out of the vision connection. I felt betrayed and angry. How could she abandon us like this? How could she let King Zain get away with this? I decided that we had to confront him ourselves and try to reason with him. But the kingdom of the Crashing Thunder was far away from ours. It would take us a long time to get there. Akira, who also knew Leo well, was furious and impatient. She said, “Let’s make this quick. Follow me.” We followed her, leaving Erebus and the Earth Dragons behind with a farewell. Siveth wanted to come with us, but Erebus stopped her, and I told her to stay. She looked at me with a desperate expression and said, “I’ll always be here for you. My heart beats for you, lovely Noxi.” I was about to say something, but Freya cut me off and said to her, “We’ve got business to do. Also, he’s already mine, so I’m sorry, but he can’t.” She spoke for me without my consent. I tried to give Siveth a sympathetic look, but I didn’t want to hurt her more than I already had. She nodded silently and held back her tears.

We followed Akira through the jungle, wondering where she was leading us. I couldn't help but ask, "Are you sure you know the way? It seems far away. Shouldn't we fly?" She glanced back at me and said, "Trust me, I know a shortcut. It's this way." She pointed to a clearing up ahead.

When we reached the clearing, we saw nothing but an empty field. I looked around, puzzled. Where was she taking us? Akira walked to the center of the field and stopped. She bent down and brushed away some dirt and grass. Underneath, there was a faint outline of a stone slab with a groove in it. She looked up at us and said, "We're going to use an ancient travel tool. It's hidden under here. Help me clear the area. It has to be clean."

I frowned. "Don't we need a shovel or something?" I asked. But before she could answer, Fyrenthos had already unleashed a blast of fire that scorched the grass around the slab. He then started digging manually, tossing dirt and rocks aside. Akira and Freya nodded at me and said, "Come on, help him." I hesitated. "But I don't have any tools." Freya rolled her eyes. "Look at him. You don't need them." I sighed. I didn't want to get dirty, but they were persistent. So I shapeshifted into an Earth Dragon and joined Fyrenthos in digging like an animal.

We cleared the area in no time, revealing several stone slabs arranged in a circle. They looked like parts of a broken portal with symbols carved on them. I left Akira to examine the ancient structure and went to find some water to wash myself. Fyrenthos followed me. When we came back, Akira had figured out how to activate the portal. She said, "We need some crystals to power it up. They should be buried somewhere around here. Can you please search for them?" I groaned. "What? But I just cleaned myself. Come on!" I reluctantly went back to digging for crystals, while Fyrenthos joined me. I said, "Can't you two help us instead of just watching?" They said, "You're the hands. We're the heads." I said, "Are you kidding me?" Fyrenthos said, "Don't mind them. They're just lazy dragonesses who don't want to do the dirty work." I agreed with him and moved on.

We found a few crystals of different colors and shapes, some with symbols on them, like the slabs. We brought them to Akira, and she sorted them out. She discarded two of them and said, "These are useless. We need electric crystals." She handed me some elementless crystals and said, "Can you turn these into electric ones?" I said, "Didn't we already find one?" She said, "No, you found two useless crystals. Just do what I say." I said, "Can you please stop bossing me around? Fine, give them to me." I used my elemental abilities to infuse the elementless crystals with electricity and gave them back to her.

She placed them in the slots on the slabs, and the portal came to life with a hum and a glow. She shouted at us, "Quick, before it disappears!" We all ran into the portal.

We had wandered into unfamiliar lands, adrift and aimless, until Fyrenthos spoke. “Please, Queen Freya and King Nox, follow us.” I felt a surge of relief to hear those titles again. We trailed behind them until we reached the gates of a walled kingdom. Some guards halted us, but their eyes widened when they saw Queen Freya. “Your highness, the King is waiting for you,” one of them said. She turned to us and explained that she had visited this place before, and they recognized her. They let us in with her and escorted us to the palace. The city was quiet, but I noticed signs of damage everywhere. Metal structures covered the buildings like scars.

We arrived at the palace, where the King greeted Queen Freya with a smile. “Dear Queen Freya, what a pleasure to see you again. It has been too long.” She replied coldly, “Indeed, but I wish I didn’t have to come here because of your message.” He nodded and asked, “So, have you made your decision?” He seemed confident that she would agree to his terms and surrender Leo to him. But before she could answer, I intervened: “We, King Nox and Queen Freya, reject any compromise and refuse your demand.” He frowned and looked at me. “You are the king? Since when?” I said, “That’s none of your concern.” He ignored me and turned back to Freya. “Are you sure about this? Do you really want to disappoint your parents?” He was trying to manipulate her emotions, but she was prepared. She raised her voice and said, That's deep buried in the past. I make the decisions now, and we will not bow to your threats. Zain.” He sighed and said, “Very well then. I suppose you leave me no choice but to finish what we started by myself.”

As they spoke, I scanned the room for clues. I saw many paintings of the king winning duels against various opponents. I had an idea. I said, “You are a great warrior, aren’t you?” He smiled proudly and said, “I am. The greatest of all time.” I said, “How about we have a duel?” He said, “Go on.” I continued, “If you win, you can have the wyvern. If you lose, you will cancel the ultimatum. What do you say?” He considered my offer. The room was silent, except for our breathing. Everyone was watching us intently. He finally said, “Deal! I can’t wait to defeat you. It’s been too long since I fought a shadow dragon. This's going to be fun.” But I said, “Dear King Zain, you don’t know what you’re getting into. Bring it on.” He looked smug and confident, but Freya whispered to me, “Are you sure about this? He has never lost a duel in his life.” I said, “I can do this. I’ll do it for Leo and for our legacy. He’s about to lose his streak.” I wasn’t afraid because I had a secret weapon. A trick that made me immune to any thunder, invisible, a customization.

The arena was packed with spectators eager to witness our duel. Among them, I spotted Freya and the others, as well as some noble-looking dragons who might have been Zain’s relatives. Zain himself made a grand entrance, accompanied by a pompous speech about his greatness. I ignored his words and focused on the fight ahead.

The duel was rather uneventful. Zain wielded a metal spear that he charged with electricity. He sprinted towards me and taunted, “Any last words, King?” I retorted, “No, do you?” He chuckled. We collided with a loud clang. I had no weapon in the duel. I didn’t need one. He tried to stab me with his electrified spear, but I caught it with my bare hand. He smirked and said, “Big mistake.” He charged it, but it had no effect on me. I punched him in the face with my other hand and snatched the spear from him. He surprised me by staying silent, so I tossed the spear aside and said, “Let’s fight without weapons, just elements and skills.” He nodded and said, “I see that you’re a dragon of culture. Alright, bring it on.” He charged himself again, while I remained still. I waited for him to make the first move.

He summoned a thunderstorm above us, similar to Freya’s but much more menacing. The crowd gasped in awe, except for Akira, who was calm as ever, and Freya, who was frozen in fear. I glanced at her and gave her a reassuring smile. Then Zain unleashed a barrage of lightning bolts at me, hitting the ground all around me and myself as well. But they did nothing; they didn't harm me. He kept doing it like a fool, but it was futile. I grew tired of his noise and his flashes. I decided to end this.

I dashed towards him at high speed and slashed him near his neck with my claws. He bled profusely and staggered back to the ground. But he wasn’t done yet. He grabbed his spear again and lunged at me. He missed me at first, and I was about to disarm him again, but he made a swift maneuver that allowed him to graze my side with the tip of his spear. He pushed it deeper, and then the shock came. I felt a searing pain from within, and for a second, I was stunned. I think I saw a glimpse of the Bright City again, just for a split second, before reality came back.

With a swift motion, I snatched the spear from his grasp and pulled it out of my wound. Smoke billowed around us. I had barely escaped the flames that scorched my skin, and the makeshift invisible shield I had crafted was shattered. Ignoring the pain that seared through my body, I lunged at him. This time, I would not miss. I would strike hard and fast. I drove the spear into his chest, avoiding his heart. I did not want to kill him; I only wanted to subdue him. But he was not done yet. He summoned a thunderbolt and sent it coursing through the metal shaft, hoping to electrocute me. But I had already repaired the shield. It absorbed the shock and left me unharmed. He gasped and coughed up blood, but said nothing. So I spoke instead. “If you wanted to die, you could have asked me nicely.” He glared at me and spat out, “What are you waiting for? Do it!” He thought I was going to finish him off. Everyone in the arena fell silent, stunned by the sight. I said, “You fought well, and you still have a kingdom to rule. If you accept the deal, I will spare your life.” He shouted, “Never!” and summoned another thunderbolt. This time, it hit us both, but it only hurt him more. He blacked out, and his flesh burned. I let go of the spear and backed away. Immediately, some guards rushed into the arena, followed by a prince who ran to his father’s side. The prince yelled, “Get away from him!” I obeyed, then he said, “Father, please wake up.” I felt a pang of pity for him. His father had just killed himself. I said, “I’m sorry. I gave him a choice. He refused it.” He snapped back at me, “Shut up. Congratulations. You won the duel, and you can keep your damn wyvern. I don’t care.” He wiped away his tears and tried to revive his father with a jolt of electricity, but nothing happened. He tried again, but still nothing. His father was too badly injured to respond. I said, “I can help him. Just let me…” He cut me off and said, “You’ve done enough. Go away.” Akira then approached him and said, “King Nox can heal your father. He has the power to save him.” But the prince said, “No, I don’t trust him. He can’t.” The guards tried to calm him down but kept me at a distance. More members of the royal family joined them and pleaded with the prince to let me try. Time was running out, and every second mattered. He finally relented and said, “Fine, take him. Please save him as you claim.” So I moved closer and attempted to heal him. His wounds closed up quickly, but he was still lifeless. He needed a spark to restart his heart. The prince tried again to shock him, and on the second attempt, the king gasped for air and opened his eyes. The prince cried out, “Father! Wake up, please.” The king looked around groggily and asked, “What happened?” Then he saw the arena and realized what had transpired. He asked weakly, “Did I just lose a duel?” From afar, I stared at him with contempt in my eyes. He met my gaze briefly, then looked away in shame. He muttered under his breath, “I can’t believe this.”

The prince rushed to his father’s side and exclaimed, “I thought I lost you. You seemed beyond any hope of life.” The king remained silent, so I approached him and said, “You’re a formidable warrior. I hope you’ll also be a prudent ruler now and renounce some old and futile ambitions. If you ever attempt to harm someone I care about, you’ll face the same fate again.” The king looked at me with a mix of resentment and admiration and said, “So be it. What do you want from me?” I said, “I want you to honor the agreement and withdraw the ultimatum to my kingdom, or else I’ll unleash my fury on yours without delay.” The king quickly said, “Very well! Deal! You can keep your wyvern. The ultimatum is off. You have my royal word!” He extended his hand to me, and I grasped it in a gesture of respect. He got up, but as he did so, he tried to shock me with a jolt of electricity. I anticipated his move and said, “Sorry, but that won’t work, my dear king.” He said, “It was just to seal the deal, I assure you.” The prince then intervened and said, “Thank you for sparing him, and please accept my apologies for the trouble. Truly.” He attempted to escort the king away with the rest of their party, but the king stopped and said to me, “Congratulations, King Nox. One day, you’ll have to reveal to me how you can withstand thunderbolts.” I said, “Sorry, but that’s a personal secret.” He chuckled and then departed. We were left alone in the arena, with only a few guards scattered around who did nothing but stare at me in awe. My companions joined me, and Freya said, “I can’t believe this! I thought you were throwing your life away, but instead, wow! How did you survive the thunderbolts?” I said, “Touch my hand,” and I reached out my hand to her. She touched it with a puzzled expression and said, “Sorry, I don’t get it. Why did you ask me that?” I said, “You didn’t feel a layer over it?” She checked again and said, “Oh, you’re right. There’s something over it.” I said, “Yeah, it’s a shield armor. I learned how to summon that. Cool, huh?” She said, “It works wonders. It’s amazing.” I added, “Until something pierces it, like the spear did. Then it’s useless or even worse.” She didn’t reply, but Akira said, “Guys, can we go now? I’d like to secure our loot before someone tries to snatch it. Please.” I said, “Alright then. Anyway, I think we’re done here for now.” We left the arena and headed for the gates.

#chapter #dragon #dragons #elements #fantasy #literature #mystery #story #poetry #adventure #the_glitch #the rise and fall of raphael

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agentrouka-blog · 2 years

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Isn't there a quote of both Jon and Dany of sleeping besides Ygritte and Daaroo respectively and yet feeling alone in the world ?

Jon feels profoundly lonely after being separated from Ghost after climbing the Wall. This is just before they reach Queenscrown.

Jon wondered where Ghost was now. Had he gone to Castle Black, or was he was running with some wolfpack in the woods? He had no sense of the direwolf, not even in his dreams. It made him feel as if part of himself had been cut off. Even with Ygritte sleeping beside him, he felt alone. He did not want to die alone. (ASOS, Jon V)

He had used Ghost as a shield against Ygritte, and when she ordered him to have sex with her it was explicitly tied to making Ghost sleep elsewhere. The next chapter opens with Jon having to send Ghost away for the Wall climb. He is miserable, even while having gotten used to Ygritte.

Turns out a sexual predator is not a great replacement for a wolf.

"Get her a dog, she'll be happier for it." (AGOT, Eddard III)

Nope, not true.

Just before the sleep passage, Jon also feels conflicted about his role as an undercover agent. He relates to the wildlings he has "infiltrated", and who begin to open up to him. It compounds the sense of isolation and guilt. The conflict is deferred when he escapes during the confrontation at Queenscrown and later resolved when he breaks centuries of protocol and forms an agreement to let the wildlings past the Wall and adds their strength to the defense of the Realm, even in his attempts to save the group at Hardhome. He escapes his abuser but makes peace with the former "enemy".

There's reason to believe that the image of shared sleep and companionship will come back for Jon. I made a post about it a while back.

This is indeed similar to Dany's sleep troubles.

We often see her struggling to sleep, especially in Meereen. It's a funhouse mirror to Jon's time with the wildlings. She is isolated among a people not her own, but she has all the power, her dragons were locked away by herself, she grows not increasingly more connected but increasingly more alienated from the city she rules from her pyramid.

Dany feels alone sharing a bed with Irri, whom she ordered into her bed, with Daario who doesn't care about her worries, with Hizdaar, whom she married for peace... None of of them can make her feel less alone. Each of them are people she has chosen to share her bed, for different reasons. She has power in the dynamic. The isolation is rooted in Dany's profound discomfort with the role she has chosen for herself: queen of Meereen.

Also in her profound loneliness as a human being. Unlike Jon, she has no memory of a pack, of sharing sleep with a safe pile of siblings. Her soul-bonded animal is a dragon, her "cuddles" were with a stone dragon egg.

Dany is isolated in her power, which amplifies her inability to connect to people emotionally. All her relationships are emotionally disconnected.

Irri slept soundly beside her, her lips slightly parted, one dark brown nipple peeping out above the sleeping silks. For a moment Dany was tempted, but it was Drogo she wanted, or perhaps Daario. Not Irri. The maid was sweet and skillful, but all her kisses tasted of duty. (ASOS, Daenerys VI)

She gets up and contemplates the place and the people she conquered with distaste and rejection. Missandei calms her and convinces her to commit herself to Meereen. Missandei, the child.

ADWD often sees Dany try to recreate a childhood bond with Missandei. She projects onto her, wants her stories, her trust. These moments come the closest to a friendship she has, but she doesn't see how the power dynamic makes it less than genuine.

Likewise, her relationship with Daario doesn't lead to a lasting satisfaction.

The prospect of wrestling with Meereen once more left her feeling weary. Sleep came hard, even when Daario came back, so drunk that he could hardly stand. Beneath her coverlets she tossed and turned, dreaming that Hizdahr was kissing her … but his lips were blue and bruised, and when he thrust himself inside her, his manhood was cold as ice. She sat up with her hair disheveled and the bedclothes atangle. Her captain slept beside her, yet she was alone. She wanted to shake him, wake him, make him hold her, fuck her, help her forget, but she knew that if she did, he would only smile and yawn and say, "It was just a dream, my queen. Go back to sleep." (ADWD, Daenerys VII)

The language is almost identical to the scene with Hizdahr.

Her noble husband was soon fast asleep. Daenerys could only twist and turn beside him. She wanted to shake him, wake him, make him hold her, kiss her, fuck her again, but even if he did, he would fall back to sleep again afterward, leaving her alone in the darkness. She wondered what Daario was doing. Was he restless as well? Was he thinking about her? Did he love her, truly? Did he hate her for marrying Hizdahr? I should never have taken him into my bed. He was only a sellsword, no fit consort for a queen, and yet …

I knew that all along, but I did it anyway. (ADWD, Daenerys VIII)

While Daario is the one she prefers, neither partner is truly fulfilling. She gets up from Daario's bed and wearily continues to rule. She gets up from Hizdahr's bed and tearfully tells Missandei to distract her with bedtime stories. Like a child.

The conflict with her environment remains unresolved. Drogon carries her away, and we will see if she manages to create a lasting peace when she returns. (She probably won't.)

When she is wandering the grasslands, the image of loneliness and sleep is picked up again.

Off in the distance, a wolf howled. The sound made her feel sad and lonely, but no less hungry. As the moon rose above the grasslands, Dany slipped at last into a restless sleep.

She dreamed. All her cares fell away from her, and all her pains as well, and she seemed to float upward into the sky. She was flying once again, spinning, laughing, dancing, as the stars wheeled around her and whispered secrets in her ear. (ADWD, Daenerys X)

Jon feels lonely and longs for his wolf. His sleeping companion, the reminder of his pack.

Dany hears a wolf but feels lonely. She dreams of flying. Of Drogon. Alone in the sky.

#jon snow #anti daenerys targaryen #loneliness #sleep #the pack survives #ghost the direwolf

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decadentenemyturtle · 3 years

Text

Broken heart t'was made of wood

Part 3 - Not here

Words: 2505

The full serie

Bilbo sat next his dining table, cold tea and apple pie forgotten a little further from him, which really was rare of him. Right in front of the hobbit was a small, wooden box. It had played a very beautiful melody, very similar to a lullaby. And for a moment Bilbo had marveled for dwarven engineering and craft. But then he had learned from Thorin, that it was made by (Y/n), as a gift for the dwarven king...

... along side with wooden statues of his family.

Bilbo had, of course, been rather angry when he also learned that Thorin had ordered them to be destroyed. Weeks, maybe even months worth of work, destroyed in few hours by his right hand man and best friend, along side with two best jewelers and crafstmen of Erebor.

"Well, what can one expect from dwarves, who only see beauty in diamond's, gems and stone" Bilbo had sneered, seemingly angry for the king, and for the bald warrior standing a little further from the table. Thorin had stared down to his hands, looking rather quilty, whilst Dwalin didn't look anywhere near the hobbit after that comment, whatever being offended and angry for him about the so called insult or because of the quilt he felt for helping to destroy the statues. Or both.

Bilbo sighed and lifted his eyes from the box to Thorin, who was spacing out, staring the half empty teacup in front of him, but not really seeing it.

"She had a reason to leave, and I do not blame her" Bilbo starts, waking Thorin from his thoughts. His pearsing blue eyes turn to Bilbo, still showing the quilt and sadness in him. Bilbo knew he was sorry for what he had done, and he understood perfectly well that Thorin wanted to apologie and make amends. But there was only one problem. "It just that... I have heard that Gandalf did visit Buckland some few weeks ago, he just never came to visit me. And I also believe that he was alone, like he always is when he comes to our lands, since there were no rumours of young woman travelling with him. And do believe me, if woman - at any age - had travelled with that blasted wizard, word would have travelled trough our lands faster than a wind"

Dwalin sneered and glanced to a dwarrowdam next to him, who in turn galred a hole to the warrior, whilst Thorin was frowning and staring somewhere behind Bilbo. Bilbo looked at them with pity. He felt bad that he had nothing else to offer, and that the married couple seemed to have their own guarrel, seemingly about (Y/n), and he wasn't helping it at all. If anything, Bilbo felt like he was making it only worse, since he had no information about the young woman.

And still Bilbo wondered, how did other's mistake, his loyalty to his king and to his duty, to his job cause such a hatred between them? No, not hatred, they still did love each other.

Bilbo lowered his eyes to the small musicbox. Both of these dwarves loved their king and (Y/n), but where Dwalin was loyal to Thorin and his best friend, Olka was loyal to (Y/n). They might not be best of friend's, not quite yet, but Bilbo could see that in near future Olka would be (Y/n)'s right hand man, or rather woman.

And then he knew that it was that loyalty what was causing all the disagreemend and problems between them. And Bilbo was sure that they would eventually sort it out. Maybe it would even help them, if they had good new from (Y/n). And just then Bilbo had a rather good thought, if one was to ask from him.

"Did you look for her from Rivendell?" Bilbo asked, lifting his eyes from the musicbox to Thorin. Bilbo knew it might be futile to ask it, but, well... You never knew when was talking about dwarves and elves. And the way how Thorin sat a little straighter, more kingly like, how he tried to extend the time before he answered, gave Bilbo the answer he needed. And he gave Thorin a small, tierd yet knowing smile.

"We came straight here. I had no business in Rivendell" Thorin replied, looking Bilbo with emotionless face. The same face he used in council room and pretty much in every situation and conversation he didn't want to be part of and which he wanted to end as quickly as possible, if Bilbo had to guess.

"Expect trying to find yer one" Olka grumbled, glaring the king. And Bilbo smiled a little, trying to hide his grin with his hand maybe a tad too late, for he had been meaning to say the same thing. Thorin and Dwalin looked openly annoyed by the fact that (Y/n) might actually be in Rivendell and not in the Shire, in good hands with their bulglar.

With a small sigh, Bilbo rose and went to collect now cold tea and food from the table, taking it back to the kitchen. All the while he did so, he cursed his adventurous side of the family tree. Those Took's never knew how to live peaceful and normal life, like any respectful hobbit would.

When he returned back to the dining room, Dwalin and Thorin were grumbling something quietly a little further in the room, while Olka was staring out of the window with a little frown. When Bilbo stopped next to her, the dwarrowdam turned to look at him.

"She might be anywhere" she whispered. Bilbo only nodded, turning to look at the two dwarrow a little further away from them.

"There's a change she is in Rivendell. Lord Elrond offered her a place and home from his halls back when we were staying in Rivenell" Bilbo confronts the dam. Dwalin and Thorin stops their quiet talk and turn to look at Bilbo and Olka, and for a while they are all quiet.

"And if she's not in Rivendell?" Thorin finally asks. Dwalin's intence stare almost seemed to drill through Bilbo. Back at the time before the quest he's stare had been intimidating, but now Bilbo could easily brush it off. The dwarves could easily intimitate others if they so wished, unless you knew them well. And were enough stubborn and hot head to not to get worked up and threatened by them. And now that Bilbo could feel himself being unaffected by Dwalin's glare.

"Then she does not wish to be found" Bilbo said, smiling a little sympathetic. "Because in the end, it is her choise what she does with her life, not yours. And you made it pretty clear that you did not have any interest for her" Thorin lowered his head, and swallowed. He knew Bilbo was right, of course he was. Thorin's quest to find his One was almost as trivial as trying to find his father all those years ago, and he had died before they could meet eachother again.

"And since you are going to meet the elves, I believe you are going to need someone who has good relations with them and who can talk to them without offending them" Bilbo said with an ease, moving from the dining room to lobby and from there to his room, muttering to himself. The dwarves look at each other with confusion. Then, Dwalin turned to look at the direction Bilbo had walked, still utterly confused.

"But the wizard is Mahal knows where!" he half shouted so that the halfling could hear him. And as soon as the words had left his lips, Olka sighed, half facepalming and half messaging her temple, while Thorin turned to look at he's best friend. Then Dwalin turned to look at the two and he made silent "oh" sound as he understood what the halfling had meant.

After 15 minutes Bilbo came back to the room after leaving an ragback to the lobby, wearin a travel fit clothes on him. He walked straight to the kitchen, not paying any attention to the dwarves, and after 10 minutes or so, he came back with a small bag full of something and another bag hanging over his arm, empty. Again, Bilbo passed over the dwarves, not looking at them or paying any attention to them, as if he had already forgotten that they were still there. Dwalin and Thorin exchanged looks, while Olka was staring after the halfling with keen interest and a little smile over her lips.

After 10 more minutes or so, Bilbo appreared back in the lobby, now looking at the dwarves, smiling little to himself. He had big bag full of something with him, which he lowered to the floor next to his travelling bag.

"I have a newly wed relatives that I'd like to watch over Bag End while I'm gone, so if you don't mind a little delay, I'll go and fetch them" the hobbit said. Thorin and Dwalin only nodded, a little puzzeled by their little friend's eagerness for travelling. Compared to last time, this was a huge change. But, then again, this time they were only travelling as far as Rivendell and there was no dragon looming at the end of their travel. Olka, instead, was nodding with approval.

"Of course, master Baggins! We can't leave your home without someone watching over it. And not to forget your garden!" she said, still nodding. And Bilbo smiled. She was the first dwarf he liked from the moment they had met. And there were quite many dwarves he had met!

Draco and Primula Baggins were more than happy to watch over Bilbo's home, and they even promised to throw a small party to few of their friends to epty Bilbo's pantry - for they had claimed that since it was just the two of them at the moment, they simply couldn't eat all their own food and Bilbo's food before atleas half of it would spoil.

Happy for the situation, Bilbo started his new adventure with the dwarves. They had to get him a pony, since the dwarves only had three with them and they all rather travelled alone on a pony, even Bilbo. And this time the ponies hair didn't bother him, he had remembered to take - not one but three! - handkerchief with him! Bilbo still missed Minty sometimes, but his new pony, Rosabell, was as sweet as the late pony. And as beautiful with her dark brown mane and chocolate and white fur. So, Bilbo was more than happy to own her, and he was sure that he would go riding more often when he would return back home from Rivendell.

Their traveles went on well without any incidents until they stopped at familiar, destroyed farm house. Bilbo let out a long sigh after seeing the house and regocnising it. Thorin threw a quick look to the hobbit, before orderin Dwalin and Olka to look some firewood. The two left rather quickly with muttered "Aye", while Thorin and Bilbo stayed behind to mend the ponies. When the two dwarves were far enough, Thorin turned to look at Bilbo with a small, reassuring smile.

"This area is safe now. Myself, Dwalin and Olka camed here on our way to your home, and we made sure that there are no more trolls in the area" Thorin reassured Bilbo with a small smile. Bilbo sighed, relieved to know that. He still remembered too vividly their encounter with the three trolls.

"That's good to hear. But still, if you don't mind, I'd rather still be on quard than take it easy" Bilbo said, still being a little tense. He already feard how many nightmare's he would have. Or, how little sleep he would have. Thorin squeezed his shoulder and gave a symphatetic smile to the hobbit.

"No need to be sorry, Bilbo. It's good to be on your guard at all the times, even when one tells you there should not be any danger" Thorin said and then he left Bilbo alone with his thoughts as he went close to the old farmhouse. Bilbo stayed a while with he's pony, still feeling uneasy. After Dwalin and Olka came back with the firewood, Bilbo sighed and gave a quick kiss on top of Rosabell's snout. Then he joined sitting with the small company. And soon after Dwalin had gotten the fire going, Bilbo started to prepare their dinner. Yet again. Dwalin and Thorin weren't that good of a cook's and Olka rather enjoyed the hobbit's food. Even the green one. Sometimes the dam offeren to help the hobbit, sometiems she rather sat close to the hobbit to tell him stories.

That night Bilbo had nightmares of the jorney to reclaim Erebor, and more specific, of the evening they had encountered the trolls. (Y/n)'s scream echoed in he's ears as one of the trolls had grapped her and the terror was still fresh in his mind as Olka woke Bilbo. After reassuring the dam that he was fine, Bilbo lay there on his bedroll, unable to sleep for the rest of the night.

Why was here, again?

Bilbo was leaning to a white fence, staring to one of the beautifulest scenery's he had ever seen. And yet, he still couldn't see it. He's mind was apsent, blank. He could only, still, hear Thorin's heartbroken cry. The elves would escort him home the next day, while the dwarves would... go back home, back to Erebor, if Bilbo had to guess. Then Bilbo lifted his eyes, finally somewhat focusing to the scenery.

Not here.

The second Elrond's face dropped, turned serious, Bilbo knew the truth. How the elf lord lost all the emotion's from he's face.

She was not here.

How convenient that Gandalf was here. From all of the places. And how nice of him to deliver the news to the group. Not. Yet again, the wizard being there seemed to be more of an joke than usefull thing.

She was not here.

It was a miracle that lord Elrond and Gandalf were still alive, given the circumstances.

She's with her family now. Lord Elrond and king Thranduil, of all the elves in the all the Middle Earth, had found a way to send her back to her world. She was where she wanted to be, where she belonged. And why ever Gandalf hadn't dropped by Bilbo's home when he had been visiting in Buckland and informed the hobbit about the new was still a mystery to the hobbit.

Bilbo's eyes finally found a lonely person standing in a far balcony. Alone, broken, and a small wooden box on his hands, playing a lullyby his mother had hummed to him when he had been a pebble. A roque tar dropped to Bilbo's cheeck as he heard Thorin's wistfull voice, how he remembered his longing look.

"One day, I wish to play this to our pebble. Mine and (Y/n)’s"

Not here.

#Thorin Oakenshield #thorin x reader #bilbo baggins #dwalin #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #fanfiction

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purplerose244 · 3 years

Text

My thoughts on Seabound!!! 🌊🌊🌊 (3/4)

SPOILERS ALERT!!!

Yep yep yep, I'm liking this season a lot! 😍 Although I hope we'll get into a more frantic situation now, like with more battles and more bonding moments (Nya and Maya hopefully, but with Bentho too 🦈🦈🦈)! We got half a season to go, I'M READY!! 😎😎

Alright, here we go!

GENERAL THOUGHTS

I do like the season a lot, maybe MoM was a little more cohesive? Idk but it's not a big complain, I still love it so far 😍

Also maybe I would've liked more interactions between Nya and Maya about how they've been apart for so long, they had a chit chat but I would've loved even more. Maybe with Nya saying that it was fine and she grew up only to realize she is still hurt by that, even though it wasn't Maya's fault. I still like how they did it, I wished there was more that's it 🤷‍♀️

While I do make sense to Maya's behavior, that while it seems a little different from Hands of Time it had its logic in my opinion, maybe Ray feels a little weird? He seems less courageous than before, and it was established that he is a hothead like his son so that came off as unusual 🤔🤔

But I do love the fact that he's here and he's bonding with his son, for real, I've been waiting for this for so long so I'm happy nonetheless 🤩

Maybe I'm just easy to please and I take all I can get idk 😅

THE STORM AMULET

Oh, are we gonna address the wind element? It feels like we haven't really seen a Morro reference since Hands of Time, that would be cool! 😍 I mean, why even mentioning the wind then 😅😅

Well what do you know, they tracked them, who saw that coming?... me, I saw that coming... we all did probably 🤷‍♀️

Jay took upon himself making a quick recap on how Ninjago will be destroyed this time, thanks Bluebell 👌

Yep nyeheh electricity makes Nya go crazy for sure ❤💙 ... wait it wasn't a Jaya pun?

Jay wear your seatbelt please, you risk you life enough 😅😅 Pff lol "are we there yet" and they are actually there, biggest plot twist I've ever heard of 😂

LEGO HUG 💜💜💜

And with someone who might as well join the League of Jay apparently 💙

I liked The Island yet it was not as exciting as I hoped for, but now understand the meaning of it. The ninja helped the keepers and they are all allies. Without The Island the moment where Mammatus gives Nya the amulet wouldn't be as meaningful

Is it just me or Nya looked even more gorgeous during that moment?... just me huh? Okay then 😂💕

Wait that's a fake? Wait... UNCLE POWERS?!? OMG THAT I ACTUALLY DIDN'T SEE COMING 🤯

Here I thought he was just messing around, he always makes things harder 😅 Or maybe better? I mean, they kinda missed a bullet on this one...

BENTHO IS SO SWEET AND COOL OMG HE IS ALREADY OUR FRIEND 💙🦈💙🦈

Jay somehow had his own TV show in the past and yet he's got that horrible acting skills wth 😂😂😂

Kalmaar is a very cool villain, like, deeply evil. Not only he's calculated and merciless, he stops at nothing to get what he wants. And the people that get in the way? He wants them to suffer because they had dared to confront him 😳

And yes the voice does help a lot, I'm sorry I'll keep saying it until the season is over 😂 (or even beyond? Please cast Giles again LEGO 🥺🥺🥺)

Awww Nya no my poor girl 😢 Jay wanted to hug her to comfort her he is so sweet my SHIP ❤💙❤💙

MOM PEP TALK MOM PEP TALK!!! 🤩🤩🤩 How cool was it?

Like, this isn't even Maya asking Nya to believe in herself, this is her saying that she KNOWS her daughter can do anything when she puts her mind into it. FINALLY SHE SEES HOW AMAZING WATER GODDESS IS 💜💜💜

MORE LEGO TEARS OMG THIS SEASON IS FILLED WITH TEARS 😱 Which... kinda makes sense considering it's a water based season 😂

Nice one, and now? NOW WE GO BACK TO KAI COLE AND RAY YAS!!! ❤🖤❤🖤

RIDDLE OF THE SPHINX

That is... surprisingly Egypt theme like? It feels like a title coming from the Fire Chapter of season 11... well we got two fire elementals so 😍😍

SPARRING KAI AND RAY

I REPEAT SPARRING KAI AND RAY!!! SPARRING KAI AND RAY!!! ❤❤❤ Lol Ray got old, but how can someone blame him? He did touch death while aging in Hands of Time, I'm just happy he is alive 😂

Yep, master prankster Wu, that's what I love 👌👌 I always thought Wu had become a father figure for Kai at the beginning, so seeing Ray and Wu in the same picture feels very wholesome to me 😚

Ah, uncle Powers, I both love you and hate you so freaking much 😌😌 But you make cool slides nonetheless 😂

ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME WITH BEAUTIFUL SMITH INTERACTIONS??

BECAUSE I LIKE IT KEEP GOING 🤩

Oh no you guys are stranded on an island whatever are you going to do?? It's not like you had already before and managed to survive (Skybound) or you got stranded on a rock in a sea of sand filled with giant monsters (Fire Chapter) or you were on a freaking COMET in SPACE (Rebooted). Yeee, this is the worst yet 🙂

I'm starting to think these ninja are just a bunch of drama queens so no matter what happens, it's always hopeless 😂😂 I feel like I'm kinda right on this one honestly 😛

Whoa whoa WHOA WHO IS NYAD THIS SOUNDS VERY COOL???

Aww I like that, while Ray told his kids stories about dragons and how they traveled through the Underworld, Maya told them about Nya the first water master that could summon whales 💙❤💙❤

Pff imagine if it turned out Nya was the master of fire, carrying a very water based name? Lol

Maya: I would know if it was possible!

Nya: Yeah, like she knows that I can control a bit of ice because it's frozen water

Maya:...

Maya: YOU WHAT

I find both interesting and very annoying that this explorers club thinks so highly of themselves, to the point the deny to aid even the FREAKING SAVIORS OF THEIR FREAKING LAND 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

Misako got good reflexes after all, Kai was probably ready to melt this guy's face 😅

Oh, so a trial by Sphinx is a challenge? A mental one? A cultural one? A physical one? Idk but Misako is actually taking charge and that is cool I guess 🤷‍♀️

Okay this is kind of weird, how is Ray so afraid? Is it because there's fire?... did he... did he grow afraid of fire for some reason? Because it feels a bit off for now, but if there is a deeper meaning that could be interesting 🤔

Wait is that the riddle from Decoded? That's fire right?

IT IS FIRE 🔥🔥🔥

Lol at least in this one Kai wasn't completely ignored 😂 I know my flame babe isn't the most rational person, but I do like that it was an answer connected to his element where he used his head!

Ah Clutch, you really got no backbone 😅 And apparently you're the only explorer who doesn't, dang look at the others go! I'm having a bit more respect for them now 😚

LOOK AT SENSEI GO FINALLY!!! 😍😍 FIGHTING SCENES HECK YES!!!

Kalmaar: I'm your conquerer

Wu: so after skeletons, the serpentine, nindroids, the Stone Army, Chen's army, ghosts, oni, more snakes but on fire and people from a game, that makes you the tenth. Have a free cookie

Kalmaar:...

Wu: you're not special

Is this a little throwback to Possession too? Nya seems to always control better water when she doesn't actually think about it. When her feelings are free, so are her powers 🌊🌊🌊

Also this opens up more possibilities! Creatures connected with other elements might get summoned too! I would love something like that 😍😍

This was NEAT, or maybe I just missed Kai that much ❤ What's next??

PAPERGIRL

ANTONIAAAAAAAA!!!! MY GIRL IS BACK!!! All my girls are back in this season, I'm so happy 😍😍😍 And if she is here, sweet little Nelson has to be around and I cannot wait! Bring in the purple ninja! 💜

Owww Antonia's last day as a papergirl? Nooo why??

She's got a job at the... DAIRY DRAGON??? OMG OMG OMG IT'S THE ICE CREAM PLACE BRAGI TOLD US ABOUT ON TWITTER!!! 🤩🤩🤩 I remember the post, he was asking about names for the place and ice cream flavors. Now I can't wait to see what did he choose 🍦🍦🍦

UNAGAMI BABY HI HONEY!!! 🙋‍♀️ I hope he's doing great 😘😘

This is so cool honestly, Antonia got her own character arc going on! Living in a chaotic city like Ninjago City must be pretty dang exhausting 😅

Was... was that Dareth in the garbage can? Am I wrong? Poor brown ninja 😅🤎😅

SPINJITZU SWIRL, BANANAKHAN, ORANGE SERPENTINE, I'M DYING 😂😂😂

Their friendship is so wholesome, I'm so happy they are still together no matter what happens 💕

I thought Kalmaar wasn't much of a fighter but DANG he's got skills! Also the fact that he uses tentacles makes the fight very cool to watch! 😚😚

RAY RUNNING IN AFTER KAI GOT HURT HECK YES ❤❤❤

Well at least you tried Ray 😅

Ah, little cameo of the original Weekend Whip, always nice to hear it again... AND DO THE WEEKEND WHIP!!! 🌪🌪🌪

EVEN NELSON GOT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT I'M SO PROUD 💜

I don't even know what is cooler, the kids being mad lads on their bikes, Kalmaar driving a TRUCK or Kai going full parkour on the buildings to follow them 🤯

I'm sorry... am I the only one that during the Kai and Kalmaar talk kinda thought of Jestro and Clay? I miss my boys from NK, they're even more at odds now 😭😭

KAI YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE OR EVEN TRY TO DIE GET BACK HERE AT ONCE 😱😱

Kalmaar just loves to make everyone feel inferior, gotta be his hobby 😶

Oh good Kai is back

OH NOT GOOD KAI IS NOT BREATHING?!? FLAME BABE I TOLD YOU YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE 😱😱😱

Antonia, Nelson, you guys are now my heroes. You saved my fave, I'll be forever in dept with you ❤❤❤ Am I being overdramatic? Most likely, but Kai is one of the few that didn't almost die or did die in a dramatic situation and he is also my absolute favorite character so that... kinda keeps my sanity in check in this show 🥴

I wonder... does he still not know how to swim? He saved Lloyd in Possession but I wonder if he was only trying to float on the surface... THAT'S TERRIFYING

This episode was so adorable, I love Antonia and Nelson so much 💜💕💜💕 It's nice to see what the other people of Ninjago do while everything goes mad 🤣

Wait hang on my Ninjajan is a little rusty

"Ninjago City. City that never sleeps" well if that ain't the truth 😂

MASTER OF THE SEA

Like Master of the Mountain? Wait are we going back to Shintaro?? VANYA?? ANOTHER BEST GIRL RETURNS??? 💛

Hey hey hey, we got a full Nyad backstory! I really like when they do these little drawn shots, they feel more like legends! And... the ending sounds terrifying? Like, they wouldn't let Nya sacrifice herself and die... again... right? 😱

Bentho: and the world was in balance, until now because of my brother

Lloyd: and the Overlord before of course

Bentho: the what now?

Lloyd: the evil one my grandpa the first Spinjitzu Master fought?

Bentho: YOUR WHAT NOW

Why do I like this offscreen "hiiiyaaa" that sensei Wu does before actually going into the scene? 😂😂

No matter if they come from the underground or the sea, these are all snake-like creature with the same intellect 😅 Kalmaar and Garmadon would have a lot to talk about, sea king dealing with his minions does remind me of Lord Garmadon in season 2 a lot 😂😂

KAI AND RAY FIGHTING TOGETHER KAI AND RAY FIGHTING TOGETHER ❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤

OMG Kalmaar is such a brat and petty villain I love him so much 😂😂😂 Yes I didn't even mention his amazing voice!... AH DANG IT 😳😳

*Misako kicks Kalmaar and is actually useful* 🙆‍♀️🙆‍♀️🙆‍♀️

*Misako gets taken as hostage immediately after* 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

KAI LITERALLY JUST GOT SAVED FROM DROWNING WHY MUST YOU DO THIS TO HIM!!!... and Ray and Cole and Wu of course, I care okay 😅

OMG that face 🤣🤣🤣

That some meme material right there

Whoa Vincent that voice just got super up when the Unsinkable showed up, it kinda sounded like Jay's lol

NO NOT BENTHO!!! 😢😢😢

Kai: Nya talks to whales now? (I snorted so hard at this 😂😂)

HECK YES NYA GOT THE AMULET!! 😍😍😍 ... we got, like, four more episodes to go so something needs to happen in between... do I need to be scared? I feel like I need to be scared 😅

Jay starting a fire then blaming Kai?... this is so in character I got chills 😂😂

SHARK BOY IS STAYING TO THE MONASTERY THIS IS SO PRECIOUS!!! 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 I want all the shenanigans and we need to write fanfictions about more shenanigans and AAAAHHHHH 🦈🦈🦈

Bless these two fire idiots

They own my heart ❤🔥❤🔥 Also Vincent, this is supposed to be a fun little gag moment, your amazing voice acting is kinda distracting me 😭😭😭

ANOTHER LEGO HUG

YOU GUYS ARE SPOILING ME OVER HERE HECK YES 💙🌊💙🌊

Maya learned that her daughter is capable of everything, I love that. Nya simply understood that she doesn't have to give up when something gets difficult. She is AMAZING and can do anything she puts her mind into. She simply has to hold on until the end 💪💪💪

Omg Benthomaar playing billiard with the guys I already love this 😍😍

YES IT IS SHINTARO!!! THE UPPLY ARE HERE OMG!!! HI VANYA YOU LOOK AMAZING GIRL MISS YOU I HOPE YOU'RE DOING OKAY!!! 💛💛💛 ... I just really like Master of the Mountain okay 😅

I love how Vanya doesn't even question it. It comes from Cole and he said it needs to be protected? Done and done 👌

Wait what, did something fall?

IS THAT THE FAKE?!?!? WHAT HOW WHEN??? UNCLE POWERS??? OR KALMAAR DID SOMETHING??? SOMEONE??? I'M LEGIT CONFUSED AND EXCITED??? 🤯🤯🤯

Well dang, I didn't see that coming, now what Seabound? What do you have for me?

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crackinglamb · 3 years

Text

You Have Chosen Nydha To Be Your Companion!

Hopping off @little-lightning-lavellan's idea to take a DA:I OC and turn them into a companion, may I present Banal'ras Nydha (from Hope Is a Fragile Thing) and her wiki page.

General

Banal'ras Nydha looks human, although there is something that doesn't seem quite right about her. She has dark hair and skin and startlingly green eyes, and speaks with a low, raspy voice. It is often difficult to find her in a room. Nydha first appears, and is available to recruit, in the Temple of Sacred Ashes before attempting to close the Breach. She offers knowledge and combat tactics against demons. If dismissed, or never spoken to, she will then be spotted in Haven behind Solas's cabin. She will not be available to recruit at that time, although once the Inquisition is relocated to Skyhold, she will make an offer to travel with the Inquisitor. If dismissed again, she will become a non-interactive NPC in the Rotunda, usually found near the mural or atop the scaffolding. If she is never recruited, she will disappear from Skyhold after the final battle with Corypheus.

Nydha is not romanceable by any Inquisitor, but can engage in a relationship with Solas if a female Dalish Inquisitor has not done so. She is friendly and bonds well with most of the other party members, especially Cole, Dorian and, of course, Solas. She prefers diplomacy and tends towards mediation rather than confrontation. If a Dalish Inquisitor has romanced Solas, and has high approval, Nydha will offer comfort and sympathy upon termination of the relationship. If low approval, Nydha has nothing to say.

She has strong opinions on the plight of elves, slaves and mages. She is supportive of any measures that would improve the lives of them. Her early banter with Dorian revolves around debating Tevinter's practices and trying to get him to see a better way. She will also speak with Iron Bull about the shortcomings of the Qun, although never with the same level of disdain as Solas. While she never openly mocks the Chantry or Andrastianism, she isn't a strong supporter or believer and has no opinion on who becomes Divine.

Location

In Haven, Nydha can be found behind Solas's cabin, usually in the darkest corner. Once the Inquisition relocates to Skyhold, she can be found in either the Arcane Library or the Rotunda.

Approval

Nydha's approval level is based upon empathy. An Inquisitor who is helpful, respectful and curious will gain approval. Nydha has no opinion on quests such as Wicked Eyes, Wicked Hearts or the outcome of Here Lies the Abyss, but approves diplomatic resolutions to judgments. She will greatly approve allying with the Free Mages, and only slightly approve conscripting the Templars. Conscription of the Free Mages or allying with the Templars will result in full disapproval. She will greatly approve Iron Bull becoming Tal-Vashoth and keeping Cole as a spirit. Actions that are ruthless or cruel will lose approval.

A high approval Inquisitor will learn that Nydha was born in another world and 'crossed over' through the Veil when the Breach opened. She will tell the Inquisitor that her name was given to her as a gift from someone she met in the Fade. She does not, however, say that it is Solas (see below for unique Trespasser dialogue). She will say that her name means 'Shadow of Night', according to her translation. A Dalish Inquisitor can have special dialogue to recognize the name as being Elvish and can question how a human came to have it. Nydha will answer that it is because the native language of the Fade is Elvish, a remnant from when elves held all of Thedas before human arrival.

A low approval Inquisitor will not learn this part of her history and she will remain an enigma. If approval falls to zero, she will refuse to speak to the Inquisitor, although she does not leave and is still available as a companion.

Quests

Survivor In the Shadows – the quest for meeting Nydha initially at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. It begins upon speaking with her, and ends with either recruitment or dismissal.

From the Ashes – only available after either In Hushed Whispers or Champions of the Just, but before completion of In Your Heart Shall Burn, Nydha will ask the Herald to accompany her back to the Temple of Sacred Ashes to search for her few belongings. The Herald will find a journal, a bundle of unusual clothes and a single unmarked vial. Nydha will approve completing this quest.

A Better Form – Nydha will ask for help in stabilizing her corporeal body if Dagna is brought into the Inquisition. Resolution of this quest will involve having Dagna create a unique amulet that will act as a permanent grounding source, rather like a lightning rod. Components for this amulet are: 1 blank rune stone, 1 wisp essence, and either 5 dawnstone or 5 volcanic aurum (both imbue constitution bonuses). It will act as an Amulet of Power, granting Nydha an extra skill point. This is the only time such an ability will be available to her. This will also allow her to wear other amulets throughout the remainder of the game. She, and Solas, will greatly approve completing this quest.

Twice-Born – available during the Jaws of Hakkon DLC. Nydha, if in the party, will ask to speak with the Augur of Stone-Bear Hold once relations with the hold have been established. If she is not among the Inquisitor's party, she will be found in the main scout camp near Professor Kenric. What the two speak about will be unknown, but at the end of the quest, Nydha will inform the Inquisitor that she has been given the legend-mark Twice-Born from the hold's 'gods'. Cole will greatly approve completing this quest, regardless of whether or not he is in the party.

Note: This quest is not dependent upon approval, but is the only time she will speak with a zeroed out Inquisitor, should that level of low approval be reached.

Ability Tree/Specialization

Nydha is technically a rogue, and can utilize either a bow or double daggers. She has an autolevel preference for the Subterfuge tree, and has an additional, unique starting skill in Fade Cloak. This does not require further leveling to be active. It is the only skill that cannot be deactivated from her skillset.

She can specialize in either Tempest or Rift Mage, due to her nature as a being from the Fade. She is not otherwise a mage. Her decision on specialization can be influenced, as she will ask the Inquisitor's opinion. If no opinion is given, she will default to taking Tempest.

Combat comments

“Come get some!”

“Catch me if you can!”

(If specialized in Tempest) “Burn, baby, burn.”

(If specialized in Rift Mage) “Ooh, the stuff of nightmares.”

Kills an enemy

“Another one bites the dust.”

“Cool story, bro.”

“Then perish.”

Low Health

“This was not on my agenda today.”

“A little help?”

Low Health (Companions)

For all general companions: “I have your back.”

If in a romance with Solas: “Take a breather, fenorain.”

Fallen Companions

For all general companions: “I'll make them pay!”

If in a romance with Solas: “NO!”

Location Comments

Ferelden:

Hinterlands: “Why is it so big? Why is everything so big?”

Fallow Mire: “I have mud in unmentionable places. Can we go now?”

Storm Coast: “I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and sky.”

If companions question her: “It's just from a poem I once read.”

Orlais:

Exalted Plains: “So much death. Can't you feel it?”

Emerald Graves: “This forest is old. Very old.” [laughs] “I always wanted to say that in proper context.”

Emprise du Lion: “Stay away from the bloody lyrium. And wear a hat.”

At Suledin Keep after Imshael, if Solas is in the party: “Ir abelas, lethallin.” (If romanced) Ir abelas, fenorain.”

Solas's reply (only translated if the Inquisitor is Dalish): “Ma serannas. Ea lam'an.” (It is in the past)

At the Pools of the Sun, regarding the trio of dragons: “Can't we just leave them alone? They really won't hurt anyone if we keep our distance.”

Hissing Waste: “You know, if you ignore the endless vista of sand, it's really quite beautiful. In a bleak kind of way.”

Western Approach: “Hot. Hot and blighted. I need a drink.”

Forbidden Oasis, upon reaching the second camp: “That's it, I'm never leaving.”

Arbor Wilds: “Mind your footing. This place is full of secrets.”

In Val Royeaux: “Pretty place.”

Frostback Basin: “I could stay here forever. Even with the varmints.”

The Descent: “Nice and dark, just the way I like it.”

At the Wellspring: “Wow...that's amazing.”

Trespasser: “Now it all ends, my friend.”

If the Inquisitor questions the statement: “You'll see soon enough.”

Companion/Advisor comments

Varric – Gotta watch out for Spooky, there's something about her I can't put my finger on.

Cassandra – She is an able fighter, but I would not trust her out of my sight, which is far too often.

Solas – She is secretive by nature, but I would assure you that she means no harm.

Iron Bull – She's a tricky one. Good fighter, lotta secrets. Good at keeping them too. I don't think I've cracked a single one that she didn't tell me herself.

Dorian – She's fascinating. I am not at liberty to say why, of course, if you don't already know.

Cole – Bright as the sun and scattered as the stars. She wants to help, just like I do.

Vivienne – She seems capable enough, my dear. But I would not dare to trust her. She is an accomplished player of the Game, for all her smiles and good cheer.

Sera – She's as bad as Creepy, although she's better at jokes. She's better at hiding than I am!

Blackwall – She knows something. She knows too many somethings.

Josephine – She keeps to herself and has caused no diplomatic incidents. I wish I could say the same for some of the others gathered here.

Leliana – I find it curious that I cannot find any solid evidence of her existence before the Conclave, but that does not automatically mark her a spy. However, her nature makes me no more inclined to trust her. I would be wary of her.

Cullen – Who? Oh, the...shadowy...person. I hear she can handle herself. I can't say I've spoken with her, so I don't have an opinion.

Trespasser

There is a unique dialogue tree available to the Inquisitor while speaking with Solas if Nydha was recruited as a companion.

“Did you know about Nydha?”

“Yes, I am the one who gave her her name. I found her while I yet slept, and she became corporeal after the Breach.”

(First branch) “Is she one of your agents?”

“No. She has only ever been my friend.”

(Special, if not romanced) “Your friend? It seemed to be more than that.”

“In another world, perhaps.”

(Second branch) “Is she joining you?”

“No, I would not wish her on this path.”

(Third branch) “She knew this whole time. Why didn't she tell me?”

“She had her reasons for not telling you. (If high approval) I hope you will not hold them against her.”

Regardless of approval, Nydha disappears after the Exalted Council. She settles in the Frostback Basin among the Avvar. A high approval Inquisitor will receive correspondence from her from time to time, but she will refuse to come back to the 'civilized' nations of Thedas, preferring privacy and isolation.

Trivia

If in the party during Here Lies the Abyss, the Nightmare demon will speak to her in Elvish. Her reply is a scoff and nothing else.

Nydha can be a third option at the Vir'Abelasan if she is in the party. If she is chosen to drink from the Well, Abelas does not object, although he will still point out that she will be bound as they are. If Nydha drinks, she will summon Flemeth and work with the Inquisitor to tame the dragon for the final confrontation with Corypheus. If she is in the party during Trespasser, she will be able to provide the password to the spirit guards, preventing a fight.

If Morrigan is allowed to attack Abelas, she will attempt to defend him and will argue that the witch is not worthy of the knowledge she seeks if brutality is her only way to get it. If there is a peaceful alliance with the Sentinels and Morrigan is chosen to drink, Nydha will slightly disapprove but hold her tongue on the matter.

If the Inquisitor drank from the Well, and succeeds in finding enough clues to determine that Solas is Fen'Harel, Nydha will appear saddened when the Inquisitor rebuts to the Viddasala that they already know. She will state that this was what she'd been waiting for. The Inquisitor will have the option to accuse her of knowing the whole time. She will answer yes, but she won't explain.

If Nydha is never recruited, and remains an NPC in the Rotunda, one will hear her occasionally speak with Solas. These conversations range in topic from books they are reading to the mural. Never about Inquisition business. There is a slight chance to hear them speaking in Elvish, and their words are not translated, regardless of Inquisitor's race. Solas's replies appear to be noncommittal.

Nydha will remark upon the Inquisitor's romantic choices, usually with something supportive and a hope that they are happy together. She will also comment something generally pleasant about each companion if asked. The exception to this is if Iron Bull remains Ben-Hassrath. Nydha will caution the Inquisitor to be careful of telling him too much since his loyalty is now unknown.

It can be implied from various interactions and from high approval conversation that Nydha was in fact aware of everything that would happen during the course of the game. She never gives a reason for keeping her silence on matters pertaining to what foreknowledge she had, although any input given during the game events is sound and often given in such a way so as not to risk suspicion.

It can also be implied that regardless of what Solas says during Trespasser, Nydha has actually left the Inquisition to join his ranks, or at least does not stand opposed to him. This is not confirmed, however, and according to her epilogue card, she is enjoying a quiet life in the Frostback Basin with no intention of ever interfering with Thedosian politics or events again.

#dragon age inquisition #oc as a companion wiki #original female character #banal'ras nydha #hope is a fragile thing #this is super long #I might have gotten carried away

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i-sold-my-soul-to-house-wrath · 3 years

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The 'Tied-To-The-Bedpost' Scene - Chain Of Iron

James retired to his room with Thomas, who helped nail the window shut before heading back downstairs to play cards.

Cordelia, after visiting her own room to change into a comfortable tea gown, joined James, who locked the connecting door firmly after her and moved a chair in front of it for good measure.

Then he began to get undressed.

Cordelia supposed she should have expected this. The whole idea was that James would go to bed, after all, and he couldn’t be expected to sleep with his shoes and jacket on. She pulled a chair up beside the bed and settled herself on it, Cortana across her lap.

“Your drive today,” he said, undoing his cuff links. His shirt sprang apart at the wrists, revealing the strong line of his forearms. “Did it lift your spirits?”

“Yes,” she said. “There’s a fanciful story of a barrow in the Berkshire Downs where if you leave a coin, Wayland the Smith will mend your sword. I brought Cortana there, and it does seem to be sitting easier in my hand now.”

She wanted to tell him the rest—of Wayland the Smith, of her swearing fealty as a paladin. She had not told Matthew. It was too new, then, and there was too much wonder in it. And now, she found, she could not tell James, either; it was too much, too strange a tale for tonight. If all went well, she would tell him tomorrow.

“They say Wayland the Smith made the sword Balmung, which Sigurd used to kill the dragon Fafnir,” James said, stripping off his jacket and braces. “A king imprisoned Wayland, to try to force him to forge weapons. He killed the king’s sons in revenge, and made goblets from their skulls and a necklace from their eyes.”

Cordelia thought of the blue stone necklace Wayland had been wearing and shivered a little. It had not looked even a bit like eyes, but nothing about the man she had met made her believe him incapable of the deeds in the story James was telling.

“They say all swords have souls,” she said. “That makes me feel slightly uneasy about Cortana’s.”

He smiled crookedly, unbuttoning his shirt. “Perhaps not all the stories are true.”

“We can hope not,” she said, as he clambered onto the bed in trousers and undershirt; there were already pillows stacked against the headboard, and a coil of rope on the coverlet. The undershirt left his arms bare from the elbows down, traced with black Marks and the pale scars of faded runes. “I will tie my wrist to the bedpost, here,” he said, “and then, if you could tie the other wrist, it would be safest, I think.”

Cordelia cleared her throat. “Yes, that—that does seem most secure.”

His glanced over at her, his hair ruffled. “What was the trouble with Cortana?”

“It had not felt quite right in my hand since we fought Belial,” Cordelia admitted; that much was the truth. “I think that his blood might have affected it somehow.” Which Wayland himself explained to me, but I cannot tell you that.

“Belial.” James took the rope, carefully looping it around and around his left wrist and binding himself to the bedpost.

His head was down; Cordelia watched the muscles in his arms flexing and relaxing as he secured himself. Though it had been months since the summer, there was still a visible line where his skin was browner, then whiter, below the sleeves and collar of his shirt. “That is why I wanted you in the room with me.” His voice was low, almost rough. “The others know Belial is a Prince of Hell, but only you and I have seen him. Only we know what it means to confront him.”

Finished with the knot, he sat back against the stacked pillows. His hair was very black against their whiteness. For a moment, Cordelia saw again that blasted place where they had fought for their lives: the sand flaming into glass, stark trees like skeletons, and Belial, with all his beauty, and every bit of humanity burned from him.

“You don’t believe the others would be willing to stop you if it meant harming you,” she said. “But you think I would be.”

James gave the ghost of a smile. “I have faith in you, Daisy.And there is one more thing I must tell you.” He squared his jaw, as if he were steeling himself for something. “I kissed Grace today.”

The night lay before James in all its possible horrors, yet at this moment, his whole world seemed to have narrowed down to Cordelia. He knew he was staring at her, and could not stop himself. He did not know what he had expected—she did not love him, that he knew, but he had broken their agreement, his promise to respect her dignity.

In a way it would be easier if she did love him, if he had broken a romantic agreement. He could throw himself at her feet, beg and apologize. She could weep and make demands. But this was Daisy; she would never do either of those things. She said nothing now, only her eyes seemed to have gotten a little bigger in her face.

“She came here,” he said finally, unable to bear the silence. “I did not invite her. You must believe me; I would not have done that. She came unexpectedly, and she was upset about the murders, and—I kissed her. I don’t know why,” he added, because he could not explain to Cordelia what he could not explain to himself, “but I will make no stupid excuses.”

“I noticed there was a crack,” Cordelia said, in a low, expressionless voice, “in the metal of your bracelet.”

The rope looped James’s right wrist, partially concealing the bracelet. Glancing down, he saw Cordelia was right: a hairline crack ran along the metal. “I may have punched the bookcase, after she left,” he admitted. His hand still ached from the impact. “It may have split the metal.”

“May have?” she said, in the same low voice. “And why are you telling me this now? You could have waited. Told me tomorrow.”

“If you are to watch over me all night, you should know who you’re watching,” said James. “I let you down. As a friend. As a husband. I didn’t want to compound that by keeping secrets from you.”

She gave him a long look. A considering look.

“If you wish to leave,” he said, “you can—”

“I am not going to leave you.” Her voice was measured, even. “On the other hand, you have broken our agreement. I would like something in exchange.”

“As if I had lost at chess?” She never failed to surprise him. He almost smiled. “You might want to ask me at a different time, when I am not tied to a bed. The services I can render you at the moment are limited.”

She stood up, leaning Cortana against the wall. The red tea gown she wore was loose but of clinging silk material, with bands of black velvet ribbon at the hem and sleeves. Her hair was a shade darker than the silk, her eyes the same color as the velvet, and fixed on his as she climbed onto the bed.

“Adequate to what I need, I think,” she said. “I want you to kiss me."

His blood seemed to speed up in his veins. “What?”

She was kneeling, facing him; their eyes were on a level. The gown spread around her as if she were a water lily, rising from leaves. Its deep collar plunged low, edged with white lace that feathered lightly against her brown skin. There was a look on her face that reminded James of her expression the night she’d danced at the Hell Ruelle. A determination close to passion.

“You will one day find your way back to Grace, who knows of our situation,” she said. “But I will marry some other man, and he will know I was married to you. He will expect me to know how to kiss, and—do other things. I do not expect a complete tutorial, but I think I could reasonably ask that you show me how kissing is done.”

He remembered Cordelia dancing, all fire. He remembered the moments after that, in the Whispering Room. He could say to her that she hardly needed any teaching from him; she knew how to kiss. But his mind was consumed with the thought of this man, some man she would marry in future, who would kiss her and expect things from her—

James hated him already. He felt dizzy with it—with rage toward someone he did not know, and with how near she was to him.

“Get on top of me,” he said, his voice barely recognizable to his own ears.

It was her turn to look surprised. “What—?”

“I am tied to the bed,” he said. “I cannot get up and kiss you, so I will have to sit here and kiss you. Which means I need you”—he held out his free arm, his gaze never leaving hers—“closer.”

She nodded. A flush had spread across her face, but otherwise she watched him, wide-eyed and serious, as she moved across the bed toward him, crawling a little awkwardly into his lap. His blood was already running hot and fast through his veins as she settled her knees on either side of his hips. Her face was close to his now: he could see the darkindividual lines of her eyelashes, the movement of her lower lip as she took it between her teeth.

“Tell me again what you want me to do,” he said.

The smooth column of her throat moved as she swallowed. “Show me how to kiss,” she said. “Properly.”

He put his free arm around her, angling his knees up so that her back was against his legs. The tea gown rustled, the material tightening as she moved, molding to her shape. He could smell the scent of her perfume: smoky jasmine. His hand slid into her thick, satiny hair, cupping the back of her head. She sighed, settling more closely against him; the feel of her sent a jagged shard of desire up his spine.

Her lips were heart-shaped, he thought: that dent in the top lip, the circle formed by the lower. She was no longer biting her lip, only looking at him, her eyes filled with the same cool challenge with which she’d faced down the Hell Ruelle. There was no reason to treat her as if she were afraid, he realized: this was Daisy. She was never afraid.

“Put your hands on my shoulders,” he said, and when she leaned forward to do just that, he kissed her.

Her grip on him tightened immediately; she exhaled against his mouth, surprised. He swallowed her gasp, parting her lips with his tongue, until her mouth was hot and open under his. He teased the corner of her mouth with butterfly kisses, sucked and licked at her bottom lip as she gripped his shoulders harder. She was trembling, but she had asked him to teach her and he intended to be complete.

With his free hand, he stroked her hair, pulling the last pins from it, tangling his fingers in the thick strands. Her hands moved to cup either side of his neck, her fingers in the curls at his nape. His tongue teased hers, showing her how to return the kiss—how the exchange could be a duel of lips and tongue, of breath and pleasure. When she sucked at his bottom lip, he surged up against her, deepening the kiss ruthlessly, his free hand fisting in the back of her dress, crushing the material.

Oh, God. Thin silk made hardly any barrier; he could feel her body all up and down his own, the shape of her: breasts, waist, hips. He was drowning in kissing her, would never get enough of kissing her. The softness of her mouth, the noises of pleasure she made in between kisses—she moved to get closer to him, her hips rocking against his. A sharp hiss escaped between his teeth. His arm ached; he had been pulling and pulling against the rope restraining him, his body operating by its own set of needs and desires now.

Cordelia moaned and arched against him. Sparks shot through his veins; the need to touch her was blinding, searing, the ache growing in his blood to do more, to have more of her. She probably had no idea what she was doing to him—he barely knew himself—but if she kept moving like that—

She was his wife, and she was adorable, incredibly desirable. He had never wanted anyone like this. Half out of his mind, he moved his lips across her jaw, down to her throat. He could feel the beat of her pulse, inhale the scent of her hair, jasmine and rose water. He kissed his way down, teeth grazing her collarbone; his lips grazed the hollow of her throat—

She drew away swiftly, scrambling off him, her face pink, her hair tumbling freely down her back.

“That was very instructive,” she said, her calm voice at odds with her flushed face and rumpled dress. “Thank you, James.”

He let his head fall back against the headboard with a thump. He was still dizzy, blood slamming through his veins.

His body ached with unexpressed desire. “Daisy—”

“You should sleep.” She was already gathering up Cortana, already sitting back down in the chair by his bed. “You must, in fact, or we will never know.”

He struggled to regulate his breathing. Bloody hell. If she were anyone else, he’d have said she’d intended this as revenge: his body felt ravaged by wanting her. But she had settled herself calmly in her chair, her sword across her lap. Only the slight disarrangement of her hair, the red marks on her throat where his lips had been, showed that anything had happened.

“Oh,” she said, as if just recalling an item of shopping she’d forgotten. “Did you need your other wrist tied as well?”

“No,” James managed. He was not about to explain why further proximity to Cordelia seemed like a bad idea. “This is —fine.”

“Do you want me to read to you?” she said, picking up a novel from the nightstand.

He nodded very slightly. He was desperate for a distraction.“What book?”

“Dickens,” she said primly, opened the volume, and began to read.

#MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHA #CORDELIAAAA #REVENGEEEEE #lmao rip #this was hot #jordelia #james herondale #cordelia herondale #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #the last hours #coi #chain of iron #kita's mind #i love this scene #<3333333

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masjestickingdom · 4 years

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Secretly Fighting (For You)

Pairing: NCT Jaehyun x reader

Genre: Angst, one shot, fluff

Summary: You and your best friend Jaehyun are inseparable and love each other platonically. Key word: platonically. Or so you thought. When Jaehyun’s relationship with his girlfriend goes into turmoil, suppressed feelings resurface, but in the light of preserving friendship, an idiotic, ignorant front is put up. Will your relationship with Jaehyun remain stable or will the possibility of being something more be the ultimate destructive ending?

Note: Hey! So this is the scenario I’ve been hinting at for the past two updates. This scenario is by far the longest piece I’ve written, and it’s also a bit different from my usual one shots in the sense that I’m trying out a more angsty/fighting-type scenario. I hope you enjoy it!

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“Jaehyun, open up!” a loud, shrill voice shrieked. “We need to talk!”

Banging soon followed and sure enough, it caught the attention of both occupants of the apartment: you and your best friend Jaehyun.

You and Jaehyun had the amazing opportunity to rent out an entire apartment floor, shared with a few of your mutual friends, including your younger cousin Haechan. Having an entire floor was unbelievably amazing, and you quickly adapted to the perks that came along with it. The best part of having one humongous floor was the sense of privacy. It seemed trivial to you at first, but not having that constant anxiety of coincidentally meeting your next door neighbor and not having to hear the constant arguments between next door children were things you got comfortable with. As a matter of fact, it was one of the reasons you used to convince the others to join you in renewing the contract a few months ago.

That was the perk, but it was being completely invaded by that crazy girl your best friend called his girlfriend. Generally, what he did to his girlfriends was his own problem, so he rarely talked to you about the reasons behind his break-ups. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even tell you whether he was still in a relationship or not. Of course, you, being his best friend, sensed his break-ups every time without him having to tell you. The dark gaze that passed his eyes when you once asked him about his date gave away everything. In that similar sense, you were always able to smell something fishy with every other relationship he had.

“Jaehyun, I know you’re in there!” his girlfriend continued to scream.

With the absurd situation, you had no idea what to do. It was thrown at you in the middle of your slumber, and all you could think about was how good of an alarm your friend’s girlfriend would have been with that booming voice of hers. Thankfully, everyone else on the floor had already left for either school or work. You and Jaehyun were the only ones whose schools ended early, so since the beginning of your summer break, both of you were typically the last ones to wake.

Standing in front of the intercom, staring at the girlfriend’s frustrated face, you angled your neck so that your head was tilted to one side. From that angle, her resemblance to Cassie from Dragon Tales was uncanny.

“Jung Jaehyun, I will stand here and wait for you all morning if I have to!” she yelled.

You immediately exchanged a terrified face with Jaehyun as he stood next to you, massaging his temples.

“Jae, you have to answer her,” you urged, not understanding why he was avoiding his girlfriend. “Our neighbors will complain.”

He freed his face of his hands and lifted his head to get a better look at his girlfriend through the intercom.

“Do I have to?” he groaned, which was completely out of character for him.

Dreading to face another angry girlfriend was normal, but openly avoiding confrontation was not Jaehyun. Maybe he’s tired of being angry at, you thought, concern taking over your facial expression. Why did his girlfriends end up being mad at him? You had no clue, but it happened almost every time. The one time one of them wasn’t mad was when you told Jaehyun to never let go of her.

“Hey,” Jaehyun spoke, pulling you from your trance. “I’m the one who has to deal with Screaming Girlfriend over there. What’s with your face?”

You directed your eyes at him, and when you saw the distress in his eyes, you finally mustered the courage to ask him the questions you were afraid to ask. “Why is it that your relationships, with the exception of Bora, end horribly? What are you doing to make them mad?”

You saw the change of look in his eyes. It was as if you were living in slow motion because you saw a clear transition from concern to stone, which is what you called Jaehyun’s emotionless, stoic state of being. Somewhere in your brain the “stone mode is activated” alert went off. You had no time to process why he was in stone mode because, suddenly, you were walking away from the intercom, but not by your own will. Jaehyun had a strong grip around your wrist, and he was practically dragging you away from the virtual screen of his screaming girlfriend. He was definitely avoiding your questions.

Figuring that pressing him on about his relationship patterns would pull a trigger to his patience, you decided to nag him about something less trivial, something you tended to do when you tried to mitigate tension.

“Jae, if the rest of them are going to come over here and disrupt our process of becoming Sleeping Beauty, you might as well move and leave me be at peace.”

When he kept dragging you away, you became more desperate.

“Hey, are you even listening to me? Aren’t you my best friend? Don’t you want your best friend to rejuvenate? Do you want me to live with bigger bags of dark circles, huh? Hey, are you there?”

By the last question, you were in front of your bedroom, your door opened the way you left it when you barged out of your room earlier that morning to see what the commotion was about. Your eyebrows furrowed as you failed to ease the tension because what he said next hit you like ice.

“Stay in your room,” he said, keeping his hands firmly wrapped around your wrists. “I don’t want you coming out until I say so.”

“Mother, all I did was ask a bunch of questions,” you replied sarcastically.

But Jaehyun wasn’t having it.

“Do you understand me?” he asked with the sternest look you had ever seen in him in the last six years you had known him.

Reluctantly, you let out a small sigh and nodded your head. “You won’t hear me squeak.”

He mirrored your actions, acknowledging your compliance before he left you standing there. This isn’t some kind of war film, you said silently. It’s not like you’re going off on conscription. Nevertheless, you closed the door, switching off the talkative voice in your head in the process.

...

“You’re never honest with me,” you heard Jaehyun’s girlfriend cry. “You always lie about your feelings! The time you... and that other time..."

It was minute twenty-three and you were racking your brain, trying to come up with a better way to hear the girl. What happened during the first twenty-three minutes? Some hitting. And some more hitting. And some more hitting until Jaehyun had had enough and asked her to calm down. It was silent for eight minutes, which was a pretty accurate time estimate, considering you were counting with the old-fashioned “one-mississippi, two-mississippi...".

The last two minutes were the freshest memories in your mind. It probably had to do with the fact that they were literally the last two minutes you could clearly listen to, but it undoubtedly had to do with the fact that the confrontation reminded you of the times your previous neighbors’ kids would shout at each other at each other and of the arguments your parents had their fair share of.

Damn, why does my room have to be farthest from the entryway? You silently cursed in frustration while you were on your stomach, trying to shove the side of your head, where your ears were located, down your door to hear better clarity through the bottom cracks.

“...I asked you so many times if you had feelings for..."

That was it. You had the last straw; you gave up and situated yourself against the wall, becoming comfortable with the opening cracks that the side of your door provided. Fortunately for you, your breathing stabled from all that activity, and you could hear the conversation, or argument, rather, more clearly.

“I asked you so many times and you never denied it!” you heard the girl say angrily.

“Because I figured that the first few times I answered truthfully with a definitive ‘no’, you didn’t believe me, so what difference does it make if I deny it or not when you clearly don’t trust me?” Jaehyun shot back, letting go of himself for the first time.

Sure, you witnessed him getting into physical fights and verbal altercations before, but not with a girl. He was always respectful and always kept his anger at bay. He had never raised his voice at anyone--except at you, but those times were never caused by angry outbreaks.

“I saw you sneaking around,” Jaehyun continued, “following us at the mall when I definitely told you that there was nothing going on!”

The mall? Your eyebrows scrunched together. Who was he at the mall with?

“It was the mall, Jaehyun!” his girlfriend--although you weren’t sure if she was his girlfriend anymore with all the fighting--spat. “People who go to the mall together are either family or are taken!”

“That’s ridiculous,” Jaeyhun retorted. “Since when was the mall off limits to friends?”

“Since I saw the look you gave her when you brought me to her birthday party!”

“What do you want me to do?!” Jaehyun exclaimed exasperatedly. “She’s my friend and I can’t just unfriend her!”

“That. I want that.”

And for the first time in ten minutes, the house was silent. Were you hearing things correctly? Were you hearing this girl forbid your best friend from seeing someone? That got you riled up. How dare that imbecile demand that ludicrous request of him?

Of course, other than the broken silence in your head, the silence in the entryway was short-lived when Jaehyun followed up with, “What?”

“You heard me: unfriend her.”

You heard Jaehyun scoff. “You’re delirious. I am not breaking off a friendship I value for some crazy request.”

Do it, Jae, you thought, your heart thumping in excitement for what you anticipated the next words in his mouth to be. Do it.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

Cue your celebratory dance, which was, of course, performed in your imagination. For the first time known in history, Jung Jaehyun had finally broken up with someone. Throughout the entirety of his life, Jaehyun was the one who was broken up with. In that moment, thanks to that crazy ex-girlfriend of his, he was the breaker for the first time. He did it, you sang, which accompanied your imaginary dance. He did it, he did it, he did-

“Fine,” the girl declared. “But tell me: did you love her or did you not?”

Jaehyun, his stone-cold voice still operating, countered with, “I’m not obligated to tell you anything.”

“As your ex, I demand-”

“All we’re doing is walking in an endless cycle we don’t need to be in anymore.”

“You’re not denying it, Jaehyun!”

“And we’re back in circles.”

When you heard nothing, you pushed yourself against the door, wanting to listen to everything. Is she gone? Did she leave? Did he get rid of her? No, she was far from gone.

Voices resurfaced and soon enough, you heard Jaehyun say hurriedly, “What are you doing?”

His voice neared and by the time you realized that she was heading towards your room, it was too late: she swung open your door, which, by the way, was unpleasant, especially because your face was already behind it.

“Don’t you dare pull her into this,” you heard your friend say in the middle of the swinging-the-door-open process, glaring daggers at his ex.

It never registered in that empty head of yours that you were the infamous mysterious identity in their disagreements--or any of his disagreements with his other girlfriends, really. It wasn’t until your eyes locked with hers, a chill running down all over your body. You swear her eyes were icy cold.

Jaehyun’s eyes followed hers. Feeling the need to break off the intense eye contact, you averted your eyes to him, earning you a scoff. You stood there, staring at Jaehyun helplessly.

“So this is the scum you keep lying about,” the girl suddenly attacked, to which you responded with your eyes instantly trailing back to her.

No one had called you out like that before. Never like that, and it felt disgusting. You had only met her twice, once the first time Jaehyun introduced her to you and second at your birthday party.

You were too immersed in your own thoughts, coming up with all the possible comebacks and attacks you could formulate, that you missed Jaehyun’s darkening eyes.

“Get out,” Jaehyun spoke, his voice dangerously low. “Get out now.”

“She-”

“Get your crap together and get out while I’m still being nice.”

The unfamiliar tone intrigued you into taking another look at your best friend and evaluating his expression. There was no doubt that he was pissed off. His eyebrows were stiff and his eyes were narrowed, replicating the coldness of an iceberg. He had his jaws clenched, which amazingly defined his jawline, leading your eyes to the veins that were protruding from his neck. He wasn’t huffing out angry breaths like the crazy girl in front of you; instead, he was breathing so skillfully with his nose that you, for a moment, doubted if he was breathing at all. At that point in time, you knew that that face wasn’t his rock-hard stone mode. It was his ultimate shut out mode, and although you lived for it, you feared for what he would do if the girl didn’t leave.

When the girl wouldn’t budge, Jaehyun did something that made you realize that that day was a day discovering a new side of Jaehyun. For the first time, he raised his voice at a girl, broke up with a girl, and brought out the ultimate shut out. In that moment, you witnessed one of the scariest (and manliest) sides of Jaehyun you had ever seen.

Your best friend, the guy who you believed, without a fail, was considerate of others, caring, and seriously entertaining at times, broke his quintessentially collected and patient self. He grabbed your wrist and, without a notice, pulled you closer to him, letting you inhale that whiff of the naturally floral-scented shampoo he used the other night and the honey-based face mask he had on before his ex showed up. In that situation, looking up at him, centimeters away from his face, had your stomach doing somersaults. His jawline was impeccably sharp, which was so beside the point, but you couldn’t help but admire his beauty. Even that beauty mark he developed on his neck, the mark people normally call a flaw, was a charming imperfection.

With his hand wrapped around your wrist, he warned, “We’re going to be in the kitchen as if nothing happened for exactly one minute. If you’re not gone by then, I’m calling the cops.”

And that was that. When his ex snobbishly sashayed away after a full minute, Jaehyun returned to his normal state and sighed in relief. He turned his attention to you and his hands left your wrists, only to land on your shoulders.

“You okay?” he asked in a soft, but rough voice.

You barely nodded. You were set in a trance with his beautiful eyes, which you noted were beautifully concerned for you. He offered a small smile and pulled you into a hug. It was only nine in the morning and both of you were tired.

“Sorry you had to go through that because of me,” he said quietly.

Your arms quickly found their way around a comfortable spot on Jaehyun’s torso.

“Hey, for you, I would go through that again anytime,” you breathed, a sincere smile forming on your lips.

He rested his chin on your head and began rocking your bodies back and forth.

“Really? You would relive that experience?”

“In a heartbeat.”

A chuckle left his lips and you felt his body, especially his chest, vibrate harmoniously in sync.

“You’re crazy,” he said.

“Maybe, but what are best friends for?”

And that’s when the swaying stopped. Subsequently, the warmth he provided you left your body.

“Right,” he spoke, pulling away from you.

The portion of warmth that was left was your fingertips because that was the last place that left his torso, and that withered away a split second later. He shot you a quick smile before heading towards the adjacent living room. Thinking that he wanted some time alone, you stayed in the kitchen, but he soon patted a place for you to sit on the couch next to him.

Somewhat relieved, you followed the steps he took to the living room and asked, “Are you tired?”

His eyes landed on yours and your heart broke at his tense state.

“If you ever want to get back with her, I can-”

Your face was met by one of the throw pillows.

“You’re crazy,” he chortled, shaking his head.

You smiled at your small success at bringing a smile on the exhausted face, so you tried for one more.

“You know, I would have told you to do whatever she asked of you and to fight for her, but, damn, she was so adamant and selfish that she was definitely not worth fighting for.”

He shook his head, laughing. “If she had trusted me, she would have stayed.”

It was his way of saying that it was okay, you thought. But what you weren’t aware of was that it was his way of secretly fighting for a certain someone.

He took a moment to collect his thoughts before he added, “Besides, I wouldn’t have trusted me either.”

It took a lot of willpower not to analyze what he meant by that, but you failed miserably after three seconds. You knew that you were mistaken as more than a friend by his crazy ex, but what did it mean when he was the one who said it? He was worn out. He probably wasn’t thinking properly, right? Settling with that answer, you lightly threw the pillow back at his direction.

“What are you talking about? It was her trust issue. We didn’t even hang out that much once you started going out with her.” You shook your head and continued, “The next time you have a girlfriend, I’ll make sure to tone it down whenever she’s around. Actually, consider me invisible.”

“The next time I have a girlfriend?”

“The next time you have a girlfriend.”

When he didn’t respond, you looked over at him, but by then he was already chuckling.

“After this, I think I’m going to lay off for a while.”

You goofily smiled at him. “Impossible. All the ladies go to Jaehyun.”

“All the angry ones.”

You agreed. “All the crazy ones. What are they thinking? Us? Together? Ridiculous.”

“That’s what I always tell them.”

In the back of your mind, you knew that it was possible that his girlfriends could have had trust issues with you since you and Jaehyun were of the opposite sex and were best friends for six years running, but it didn’t cross your mind that you were the root of their serious conflicts.

“So all this time, they confronted you about me?”

Your friend merely nodded his head.

“Wow, I didn’t know that I was popular with the ladies too.”

With the insane event that happened to him that day, all you wanted to do was restore his energy. You wanted him to forget what happened and live the summer like he should have, so that time, you were the one to take his wrist and pull him up.

“Let’s go.”

“But I’m tired.”

“Let’s go.”

...

To say you are a spontaneous person is false. Nothing you do is out of spontaneity. All the activities you partake of are predictable of you, and you’re okay with that because that’s you. However, to say that you are completely unpredictable would be false too. For your friends, you would do anything, and for Jaehyun, your best friend in the entire universe, you would do everything.

“Let’s go,” you said, pulling him out the door. “I promise you that you won’t regret it.”

So where did you lead Jaehyun to? Everywhere. You took him to the beach, where you both got your clothes wet. You snuck him into a rival college’s campus, a fairly easy thing to do, and watched a hilariously boring film production. You pushed him inside a famous coffee shop and ordered a fan favorite drink, which you shared with wacky straws. After visiting three new places in the span of four hours, you were drained of energy and so was he.

But there was one place left to go to, one perfect place to end the day.

“So where is this surprise you’re taking me to?” Jaehyun asked, walking alongside you on an unfamiliar sidewalk.

“You’ll see,” you teased ambiguously. “We’ll be there in five minutes.”

Because you were in an unfamiliar place, you had your virtual map on your phone to guide you the way to the highly rated, must-go-to, chill restaurant. The restaurant was a perfect place to end the day: you could eat everything there, return home with full stomachs, and sleep well. It was the ideal situation you formed in your mind. While you were checking the directions, Jaehyun peered over your shoulder to take a sneak peek. You, noticing right away the shadow that loomed over you, immediately retracted your arms behind your back and narrowed your eyes at your friend who had the back of his head already facing you and was whistling to a horrible tune.

“Hey, no cheating,” you warned him.

Jaehyun swiftly spun his head and raised an eyebrow at you.

“Is this supposed to be a game?” he asked, tilting his head.

“It’s supposed to be a surprise,” you huffed, but when you saw the ends of his lips curl upward, you pressed, “You saw the name, didn’t you?”

Cue the dramatic gasp.

“No, I did not,” Jaehyun scoffed playfully. “I cannot believe you would accuse me of such foul play.”

When you glared at him, he broke into an innocent, but not-so-innocent, smile. You couldn’t help but be enchanted by the way the angle of his tilted head let him cover the sun, the rays of the light shining around him in an endless circle. The way he smiled at you was so pure-looking that you wanted to scream and pinch his dimples. The sparkle in his eyes reflected pure joy, and you wondered if you were the one to have pulled that out of him. No, you reminded yourself. That’s just how he smiles. Nonetheless, your heart raced with an impressive speed. As soon as you felt your face warming up, you set your eyes on the road ahead of you.

In less than five minutes, you safely and successfully guided Jaehyun to the right place.

“This is it,” you told him, looking up at a sign that read Al’s Place. “Surprise.”

Jaehyun laughed at the lack of enthusiasm in your voice.

“Sorry for peeping earlier,” he said, not-so-gently patting your head.

You simply grunted in response.

When you entered the restaurant, you were greeted by an overly eager hostess.

“Hi, welcome to Al’s Place! How many?”

“Two,” you replied while Jaehyun scanned the place with his eyes.

As the hostess led you to a table of two, Jaehyun leaned towards you and whispered, “Nice place.”

You hummed in response, taking a look at the place yourself. Along the way, you saw a couple of looks being thrown your way--or more specifically, Jaehyun’s way. It wasn’t a foreign occurrence, but it reminded you of the whole “I wouldn’t trust myself either” phrase, which brought you back to: what in the world did he mean by that? If it meant anything remotely to what you secretly wished it meant, you weren’t going to risk your friendship with Jaehyun for a short-term, badly ended relationship like he had with all of his other girlfriends. You just wanted to remain his secret admirer and maintain a strong relationship.

When it came to Jaehyun, there was no wrong. Even when he made mistakes, he learned from them and “benefited from them,” according to him, “because all those mistakes served to be cardinal learning experiences that would eventually allow him to become a bigger human being”. That was Jung Jaehyun for you, and with your influence on him on a romantic level, that was too much pressure for you. Once, on a day out at a festival with your fellow housemates, Jaehyun had a flock of girls running at him at once, asking for his number. Naturally, he courteously rejected all of them. He had a girlfriend at the time, and, afterall, his friends were waiting for him with their orders. While he rejected them, you and Haechan, being the only ones who volunteered to assist Jaehyun, threw the idea around that no girls would be good enough for Jaehyun.

“He’s so damn awesome,” you said, expressing your strong acknowledgement of your best friend’s impactful presence. “He’s there with girls swarming around him while we’re here standing like loners waiting for our single-sticked corn dogs for our single selves.”

“But you know,” your wise cousin started, “I think when he finds a girl who likes him for him and not his looks, they’ll be burdened by his lack of amorality.”

Leaning back on the corn dog stand’s extended counter to allow your elbows to rest, you observed the way Jaehyun kindly turned down all of his offers. “You think?”

“It’ll probably happen. I’m pretty sure Jaehyun’s thinking about it too.”

“That jackass is probably thinking too highly of himself,” you scoffed, but it was an act you put up, and that wise cousin you considered your close friend read you like a book.

“You know more than anyone that he’s simply thinking of all the possibilities of the perils that will come with each relationship he’s involved in,” Haechan said matter-of-factly. “With all the girls he’s gone out with over the years, whether he likes to admit or not, he’s probably tired of calculating what peril he has to anticipate at the start of any relationship.”

“And you’re saying that when the right girl comes along, that conflict will be her low self-esteem?”

Haechan hummed in response, his fingers tapping to a small but fitting tune for the hot summer as he waited for your response.

Your hesitant response mirrored the lingering anxiety that you couldn’t get rid of.

“He’s so perfect that he has to worry about being perfect, yet that’s a burden to the girl,” you finally said with a bitter smile. “So unrelatable.”

You ignored the gaze Haechan was giving you. You didn’t want to know what he was thinking although you had a feeling it had to do with your last comment. He knew the front you put up. He saw right through you. If he saw through you, could everyone else? Could Jaehyun? Instead of dealing with Haechan, you watched Jaehyun reject the last girl. That’s when it dawned on you why you had put up a front, especially for your best friend Jaehyun...

It started three years prior to the festival, when you were freshmen in college. You were trying to navigate your way through the enormous hallways when you spotted a very familiar brown-haired boy. Jung Jaehyun. His hair was originally black, but he dyed his hair to the lighter shade it became, telling you that he wanted to start a fresh, unanticipated image, and apparently dying his hair was the first step. In response, you snickered and bet that he would return looking like a mess. With that gorgeous girl he was conversing with in the hallway, you knew that you had lost the bet.

Preceding your college days, Jaehyun only had flings. None of his encounters with girls were serious. It wasn’t that he was a player. It was simply because he wasn’t looking for a committed relationship before college. He once told you, before one of your many movie marathons began, that he didn’t want to deter his studies with an alluring distraction. Yes, he said that right before you started your movie marathon on a school night. Regardless his reasons seemed ridiculous to you or not, he kept his word, and, at the time, you were secretly relieved.

College was a new territory. That meant that it was Jaehyun’s time to explore the new world of relationships. That meant you had to let go of your buried feelings for Jaehyun, but they were so deeply buried that you never bothered to dig deeper. You just left them sitting there, burying them more when you came up with a defense mechanism, which started when Jaehyun announced to you that he was seeing someone, that majestic girl in the hallway.

With the exception of hints of jealousy peeping here and there, his flings in high school didn’t trouble you. They were purely flings, afterall. There was no harm in them. Serious, committed relationships, however, were on a different level. When things became serious with his first girlfriend, you developed a system that would ward you off from showing your true feelings, which would have otherwise had you raging with jealousy. That system was sarcasm. You weren’t really the sarcastic-type of friend, but it was the only way that safely kept a distance from you and Jaehyun to prevent any possibility of romantic feelings slipping. It was also--now this you failed to acknowledge--a way to distance yourself from any remotely amorous feelings with anyone, and this helps explain why your dating life barely existed.

“Earth to Miss Crazy.”

Jaehyun was waving his hand in front of your face, repeating the same line until you snapped back to reality.

“Aren’t you going to recommend something for me?” he asked when your eyebrows relaxed.

“Hey, I’m just as new of a person here as you are,” you said, shaking your head.

“But still,” he pushed, like a child. “You brought me here.”

Instead of fighting back like you would have normally done, you called a random waitress to order. To your luck (note the sarcasm), the waitress was the one who was sending googly eyes to Jaehyun earlier. Setting that fact aside, you calmly asked her for the most popular set menu. Whatever left her mouth, you couldn’t focus because all you could think about was how she had her eyes all over Jaehyun. Oblivious to this, your unsuspecting friend continued to read the menu. When the buzzing stopped, you realized that you had no idea what she had said, so you naturally asked your unaware friend if the set sounded appealing.

He looked up from the menu and nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

The waitress smiled widely. “Okay, then I’ll be back with your orders. If there’s anything else you need, anything, just call me over.”

You handed her your menu, which she took by the far corner, but when Jaehyun extended his, she deliberately let her hands graze over his soft, slender fingers before leaving the scene. You examined your friend’s expression, and it was not good. He was visibly uncomfortable with the interaction.

“So,” you started, grabbing his attention, “how was today for a surprise?”

...

The interaction with the waitress definitely put you in for a chaotic spin in your head, but you didn’t want your messy thoughts to spoil dinner. Jaehyun, although affected at first, eventually forgot about it. The both of you shared a good meal with random conversational topics, sharing upcoming projects and reminiscing about a few memories.

When you were done with your dishes, the waitress returned, and something was different about her. Was it her face? No. Her clothes? Maybe. If people consider busting an extra button open as changing the appearance, then, yes, that was the change. She was clearly drooling over Jaehyun, her eyes full of lust. When she asked, “Can I interest you with our dessert menu?”, she made sure to make eye contact with Jaehyun, biting her lower lip. Your genius friend, however, simply cocked his head sideways at you, asking you for your thoughts.

“Very classy,” you said, over pronouncing “classy” to make sure he got your intention. “Very classy dessert, don’t you think?”

He shook his head, distaste apparent in his eyes. “No.”

Although there was jealousy stirring inside of you, you kept your cool and put up an act, deciding to make it seem like you were stifling your laughter.

“Fine, we’ll take the cherry cupcake surprise,” you said, directing your comment to the waitress, who took one final look at Jaehyun before strutting away.

Watching her walk away, you commented, “Wow, I did not know that this was a dinner and a show type of restaurant.”

You turned your attention to Jaehyun, who was shooting you a dirty look your way. You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively.

“Looks like somebody has the hots for you.” You smirked at him, but he simply sighed. “I see someone’s tired of being Mr. Popular.”

He shook his head at you. “You know I’m not interested.”

“Yes, yes, I know. She’s not even your type.”

To that, Jaehyun raised an eyebrow. “I have a type?”

“Everyone has a type.”

You took your glass of water in your hands and swirled it around.

“Do you have a type?” he asked.

Staring at the disturbance you created, you answered, “Sure, I just don’t know it yet.”

When you heard him click his tongue, you looked up from your glass and scrunched your nose.

“Hey, I’m sorry that I haven’t dated as many people as you have,” you said, sarcasm dripping in your voice.

With curiosity taking over his face, he asked, “When was the last time you went out on a date?”

“Oh, I don’t keep track.”

Jaehyun was transparently amused at your vague response.“It’s been that long?”

“Excuse me for trying to find the right guy,” you scoffed.

“So,” he said, leaning forward with anticipation, “what do you think my type is?”

You promptly answered, “Someone who’s willing to craze over your obsession with wine.”

Right away, Jaehyun leaned back in his chair. “I don’t understand why you have to hate wine.”

“I don’t hate it,” you corrected him. “I would prefer water to it.”

“That’s-”

He stopped in mid-sentence when he spotted something, or rather someone.

“Just wait until you try this wine.”

In that moment, the waitress came back with your desserts, and for the first time, Jaehyun directed his speech at her.

“We’ll have **** wine.”

“Of course, I’ll be right back with your drink.”

When he averted his gaze back to you, you gave him a knowing look.

“But you gotta admit that she’s pretty hot.”

And at that, he deadpanned, but he swiftly recovered, asking, “So what else am I looking for in a girl?”

You handed him a clean fork, which he took, and his fingers brushed past yours ever so slightly, leaving you with a tingling sensation. You took your own fork and split the cherry cupcake in half, giving Jaehyun the side with the cherry; you didn’t enjoy cherries as much as he did.

Suppressing your growing feelings, you finally answered his question. “You seem to go out with girls who are pretty outgoing, which surprises me.”

“And why is that?” he queried, taking a bite of his half of the cupcake.

You shrugged. “You’re calm and collected at most times, and I say most times because that five percent you aren’t, no one can contain you.”

Licking the remaining frosting on his lips, he pointed at the cupcake and said, “Now that’s a good cupcake.”

You took the time to let the flavors of the dessert melt on your tongue before ultimately agreeing with Jaehyun.

“And that wasn’t even a recommended dessert,” you remarked, proud of your choice of order.

Jaehyun playfully applauded for you. “I commend you for that.”

“Oh and by the way,” you spoke, continuing your thoughts about his type. “You have this thing with girls with long hair. Do you know that it’s a pain to maintain long hair? We lose hair because of the weight of it.”

“I’ll do my best to keep the range diverse,” Jaehyun noted, laughing.

“I’m not kidding. Jae.”

“Then why do you have long hair?” he fired with amusement in his eyes, pointing out the irony.

“I-”

Just then, the infatuated waitress interrupted you, approaching you and Jaehyun with a bottle of wine and two additional wine-tasting glasses.

“Here is your bottle of **** wine,” she announced a little breathless.

You offered a small smile, but her attention was all on Jaehyun. She purposefully set the glassware in front of him and opened the bottle of wine with a small but audible grunt. You had no idea if that was intentionally supposed to be a grunt or if it was supposed to sound more sensual. Either way, it was incomparable to what she did next.

While she moved on from one glass to the other, the waitress “accidentally” tipped over one of them in the direction of Jaehyun. Your unfortunate friend immediately grimaced, and the waiter, at once, set down the bottle of wine down on the table and rushed to his side.

“I am so sorry,” she gasped, touching his arms. “I am such a clutz.”

While Jaehyun reassured her that he was fine through his gritted teeth, you quickly reached for the pile napkins at the edge of the table and tossed them to Jaehyun. He slid his chair backwards to dab the moist parts of his outfit, but the waitress had other plans. She snatched the napkins from the empty table next to yours and tried to help your soaked friend by reaching down to his chest. Jaehyun responded with quick reflexes and shot up from his seat.

The waitress met his eyes with the most seductive look she could display. “Let me help.”

Jaehyun, however, wasn’t pleased. Ignoring his unwavering gaze, she attempted to “help” again, but this time she aimed for his pants. To this, Jaehyun instantly grabbed her by her wrist.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snapped.

Round two of an approaching shut out mode.

The waitress flinched under the pressure of his hands, and when she saw his dark, fuming eyes, she immediately diverted her eyes. He released her wrists roughly, his gaze unchanging, and took you, the silent bystander, by the hands.

“Jae, what are you-”

Jaehyun didn’t let you finish your sentence as he pulled you out of the restaurant while you tried not to meet the stares of strangers. He stormed past the hostess that had welcomed you and pushed the doors open with such force that it felt like winter. The next thing you knew, you were heading towards a park.

“Jae,” you called, trying to listen to you. “Jae, stop.”

But he kept going.

“Jae, we can’t just leave the restaurant like that,” you reasoned. “You do realize we have to pay..."

Your voice trailed off when he slowed down and turned around. He looked at you dead in the eye.

You gulped. “Look, I know what she did was wrong, but-”

“She clearly has no moral conscience!” he yelled, causing you to wince.

He was definitely outraged and there was going to be no easy way to calm him down other than listening to him.

“She was clearly trying to seduce a customer,” he went on angrily. “I was clearly not comfortable. Did I or did I not look uncomfortable?”

“You gave her clear signs, Jae,” you responded as calmly as you could. “And it was totally wrong of her to ignore them.”

“And what’s more is that you didn’t seem to care.”

That was a sudden splash in the face. Didn’t care? Of course you cared! How could you not care?

“Jae, I did care,” you tried to explain, your hands flailing around in the process. “And I’m sorry I didn’t do anything to prevent her actions when you were visibly uncomfortable, but understand that I care.”

The fire in his eyes did not cease.

“Because you’re my friend,” he said.

“Of course, I-”

“And nothing more.”

That slapped you hard. It was true that you were his friend, but to hear him expose the one thing you tried so hard to bury hurt.

With a pained expression written all over your face, you pleaded, “Jae, what are you trying to say? Of course I’m your friend, but the problem is that the waitress back there was extremely inappropriate.”

“I’m mad at the waitress, but I’m more frustrated that you can’t seem to take a hint!”

Your eyes frantically bounced back and forth between his infuriated eyes that drilled into yours. Was he seriously angry at you? For what? You had arguments in the past, but you always knew where those conflicts rooted. This, however, was not one of them. Nothing could register properly in your brain with that look he was giving you.

“Jae, are you mad at me?” you asked quietly.

The feeling of fear crept up behind you, the fear that he was mad at you and for an unknown reason at that. Having to deal with an outburst due to pure emotions was one thing. To have a close friend genuinely mad at you was another. Your hands began to tremble as you brought them to your chest.

“I-I didn’t mean to anger you,” you stammered, your voice breaking and lips slightly quivering. “I genuinely didn’t mean ignore the problem.”

Seeing your frightened state, Jaehyun’s eyes softened, and he took your hands in his.

“I’m not mad at you,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m really not mad.”

When you couldn't calm down, he pulled you into a hug, his hands brushing through your rough hair.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as his face nestled against your neck. “I’m really not mad at you.”

“Okay,” you whispered, letting your arms slowly wrap around his torso. “I believe you.”

You two stayed in that position for a few long seconds before he broke away from your embrace, searching your face for any upset feelings until his brown eyes locked with your darker ones. His strong, yet delicate hands reached your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. Your bodies were nearly one. The expression that his eyes revealed was one that you couldn’t read. All you knew was that they were soft but passionate--loving, almost.

“I’m not mad at you,” he repeated softly.

“I believe you,” you said again.

You watched him take a deep breath before saying, “I’m in love with you.”

A gust of wind rushed past your protected face, but the same couldn’t be said the same for your heart. It was thumping rapidly, faster than when you ran the mile for your gym class several years ago. For months--years, even--you had been sharpening your defense mechanism to cope with your love-struck feelings. You developed this unhealthy system to prevent the destruction of your relationship with Jaehyun, yet there your best friend and crush was, confessing his attachment to you. In an instant, whatever you built washed away.

“Do you know why everyone had a hard time trusting me?” he spoke, his eyes surveying yours. “Because they all knew that my heart was taken by someone else.”

You already knew the answer judging by the look in his eyes, but you wanted him to confirm it again.

“Who?” you whispered, the corners of your lips tugging upward.

A genuine smile appeared on his lips as he breathed, “You’re an idiot.”

It was your turn to smile like an idiot. Your smile grew so big that it started to hurt. Jaehyun leaned down and lightly pressed his plump, smooth lips against your forehead, his hands still cupping your face.

All these years being friends with Jaehyun had you learn one thing: you never really got over him. Whatever you previously thought about not wanting to risk your friendship with him was gone. When you lost yourself in his gorgeous eyes, you knew that you weren’t going to let go of that chance.

“I love you too, Jae,” you said with the brightest smile that had ever appeared on your face.

It candidly was the best way to end the day and a secret fight that you and Jaehyun had both been struggling with--a fight for each other.

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thecandywrites · 3 years

Text

Blood For Gold Chapter 17

Did I plan this? No. Did my hand slip and write this and SURPRISE ME? HELL YEAH. And @punkhorse96 oh, I know, prestorm but the winds are picking up as that first twist in the clouds. But nothing pushes you to confront your feelings quite like having the object of your affections have a sudden change in health.

Blood For Gold

Chapter 17

“So what’s the plan tomorrow? More training?” Demsey guessed as you came back into the stables and he was in the extended stall with you and Heavencrest and Charlico, trying to figure out how to take Charlico’s saddle off as he watched what you were doing as he tried to imitate what you were doing since the saddles looked similar in most respects.

“Tomorrow is the Kamo because Kamoba means “feast and fight” in marinai, so it’s a feasting day, you’re meant to rest, eat, and get all the jitters out of your system and drink until all the stress of the competition leaves you and everything you’ve pent up over the course of training is released so you go into the competition with a clear head, a clean conscience, so no grudges or misgivings, or malicious intent towards any of the other competitors or anything. You should still do the stretches but only one set of drills to make sure you remember them correctly but that is only after breakfast but after that, you’re meant to eat and rest basically and not do anything that could endanger your performance the next day, so don’t get drunk where you will feel hungover the next day, party and have a good time, but not party so hard or hurt yourself partying so that your performance is hindered, like spraining an ankle or throwing your back out of alignment. Then the night before the event, there is the choli- it’s where we take the leftover paint from all the training sessions and throw it at each other, like one big paint fight and then spend the rest of the night scrubbing ourselves clean, because the part of the Kamoba battle traditions before the battle can even take place is mixing the paints fresh that day to make sure that nothing dangerous is added to the paints, like powders that make the paint explode when they’re stuck.” You answered.

“Oh gods, that’s been done before? To sabotage the paint?” Demsey asked.

“Yup, several times throughout history. That’s why none of the competitors have anything to do with the paint mixture and a vast array of tests are performed on the paints and all the weapons to keep actual bloodshed from happening between the competitors and no one can sabotage the weapons either. But all the competitors are meant to stay together to make sure no one accepts a bribe for losing or winning or whatever and competitors are not allowed to publically bet either on themselves or each other just in case that should sway the betting rings, however they can send to a betting house, under an assumed name or pseudonym, their own private bets to who they think will win, and simply leave an address to where to send the money if they win. But again, that’s meant to be a secret that no one else is to know. But just between you and me, I always bet on my grandma, always, but all of that has to be done the day before the battle, because after midnight tomorrow night, that’s the cut off time.” You confided as you dropped your voice down to a whisper.

“I see.” Demsey replied, keeping his voice down as well.

“Anyway, only the crowd is allowed to place their bets right before the battle and they only have their eyes, watching the final set of stretches and exercises to watch- to make such judgements before the battle. However, there is a private pool, or jackpot, or simply “pot” for short, that’s put together by all the competitors and tomorrow night, there will be a collection taken by the hosts, so Yalin should probably be the one to collect it and her and Gregori will keep it safe until there is a clear winner, usually you put in something that won’t hurt you to lose but that you don’t want to necessarily give it away for free, but you will be happy to get it back. I always put in something simple, like a small pocket knife or a piece of jewelry, or whatever, something that isn’t necessarily really that sentimental to me but has monetary value, enough that anyone would want to win it anyway, or you could just put in money, most men put in either money or daggers or watches or something like that if they are not moura themselves. But when you put it in, you’re supposed to announce what it is and what it’s worth and of course whoever puts in the least valuable thing, if you’re not the poorest of competitors and it’s not something you can afford to give then that’s seen as a sign that your whole heart won’t be in the battle, but if you put in the most expensive or the most important or the most coveted thing in there- that means that you will take everything personally, like it’s a personal attack rather than just a competition and again, you’ll be giving it more than all of your all and it would be too much of a temptation for you to try to cheat in some way so you wouldn’t chance losing that thing. Which is again, a red flag for the rest of us and it can be rejected by the group because you have to submit whatever it is to the group for it to be accepted, and if the whole group of competitors doesn’t trust that you either won’t play fair or won’t give it your all, you can be automatically rejected by the group, however there is one exception.” You explained as you held up a single finger.

“Once you start fighting in Kamoba, that item that you put up, if you end up winning, you have to put up that same item over and over again until you either retire, or lose and the item is lost to someone else. My grandmother always puts in “the dagger”. Which has been put into every battle she has fought and she has only lost it twice but won it back in the next komoba battle she fought. The dagger itself, has been passed down in the family over generations and predates the current rules, the old rules were, you put in your favorite object into the pool. Which was the old rules fifty years ago. But my grandmother is unchanged, she will still put in the dagger and the dagger is priceless, because the Sultan who had it commissioned for his favorite wife, his kingdom no longer stands and the techniques used in it’s creation no longer exist, that’s how old and special this thing is. So she is the only one who puts in something priceless. But no one else. But her dagger alone is world renowned, like that dagger is in every portrait she has ever had done of herself. Like if she continued to be undefeated, she will probably be buried with that dagger.” You revealed.

“Most mouras in Dorierra, have special daggers especially made just for the Kamoba battles, but they use it the day before to cut up their meat and eat with it to use it one last time before they would lose it. So as it stands, my grandmother has hundreds of thousands of daggers, but each one, she keeps in a special room with the name of who she defeated to gain it. Once she passes, she has instructed for it all to be displayed in a museum in Dorierra, along with her portraits as her legacy. And that dagger- comes with world class bragging rights. Honestly I have only held it once and it felt like I was holding the weapon of a god, like I had the power of multiple worlds in my hand and I was a mortal who had no business even looking at it and I was always too scared to even touch it after that because I think I was like, 11 or 12 when I got to hold it. My grandma claims that it is just a dagger, it’s just metal and precious stones and nothing more. But the illusion that it is more than what it seems, always tips things in her favor because I have seen competitors just take one look at it and get intimidated just from looking at the dagger and then completely lose their nerve when they face off against her. She can be really sweet out of the Kamoba arena. She turns into almost a literal viper in it though and she doesn’t hold back or pull her punches.” You warned him.

“And what about you? What do you turn into?” Demsey asked thoughtfully.

“My grandmother calls me The Turquoise Phoenix, because that is my favorite color and the color I always choose during the day battles to paint my weapons with. She says that I am like a phoenix because there have been several times where everyone thought I was beat for sure but I seemed to rise from my own ashes and win at the last moment.” You answered. “Also I always put a piece of turquoise jewelry into the pot, so if it’s turquoise, it’s most likely mine.” You shrugged as you managed to get the saddle off of Heavencrest and carry it over to the saddle stand as Demsey did the same, both of you walking side by side to where the saddles for the griffins were kept as Grevu was still in his tent and the end of the barn as he humphed sulking-ly at you once you came into view.

“Oh I know! Axal didn’t go flying tonight so you had to stay here, I’m sorry, next time we go flying and Axal doesn’t go, I’ll ride you instead of Heavy, how’s that? I’m sorry you missed out.” You offered to Grevu as you came over to him after you put your saddle away and stroked his nose as he sniffed you and gently touched his nose to your lower abdomen and sniffed in deeply then cleaned his nose out, blowing snot onto your legs.

“Do I need to change my underwear or what? You and Heavy keep sniffing me there, it’s making me self conscious, but thanks, apparently I needed dragon snot on my outfit, I’m happy you could provide that for me.” You sarcastically complained in almost a mocking thankful tone as you brought his nose up to your face before you kissed his nose and scratched under his chin and grinned when he churred happily and set his chin on your shoulder before moving his head around to where he wanted to be scratched, like around his horns.

“Oooh, you poor Bay-bey, no one loves you, or gives you any attention, do they? No. You’re just so ignored and neglected.” You cooed to Grevu in your best cooing baby talk voice as Grevu narrowed his eyes at you before he blew his nose out at your face, covering your face and chest in little beads of blue dragon snot.

“Thanks a lot Grevu, thanks, that’s all I needed to make my day complete, you fat rat with wings.” You thanked him as you unzipped your jacket to take the shirt you were wearing and tried to wipe off your face at least as you made a face at how disgusting it smelled.

“Thanks, I’m gonna need another bath tonight, thanks for that. That’s gonna stick in my hair. I'm gonna have to wash my hair twice to get it out, at least, maybe three times.” You complained sarcastically.

“You brat, you’re lucky you’re so cute.” You teased as you playfully batted his nose away before he actually coughed, but at Demsey before Demsey was covered in a giant blue lougie which made you erupt into laughter as you had dodged and missed most of it but Demsey hadn’t seen it coming and just barely had his eyes closed before he was completely plastered in dragon snot.

“What did I do?!” Demsey asked as he just stood and looked at himself and tried not to gag as you laughed even harder.

“This smells like rotten guts, what did you eat?” Demsey asked Grevu who did the dragon’s equivalent of laughing.

“It smells like old...either a cow or old horse or old donkey or something like that, definitely something from a barnyard, and definitely guts.” You guessed as you urged Demsey away and out of the barn as he took big wide steps to try to let most of it, drip, slide and fall off of him before the rest of your family found you and started laughing just as the smell of whatever it was started affecting you and Demsey at about the same time and you both started gagging before you both threw up right there on the lawn which got everyone to stop laughing as Axal was sent for once you started throwing up in the last light of dusk and the grass turned from green- to purple which caused everyone alarm.

“Oh no, send for a doctor. I know the rules of Kamoba means that none of the competitors can take anything to help them but clearly this is an exception right?” Axal asked his family who all readily agreed.

“Get Dr. Wen Shi Chu, he’s my doctor, I only want him to treat me.” You insisted as you laid down in the grass and clutched your middle, the darkness of dusk still highlighting the fact that your vomit was turning the grass a dark indigo violet. But clearly you were much more affected than Demsey was, because once the dragon snot was washed away from him, thankfully he was in flying leathers so it wiped off, and once it was washed away, he was fine, but you seemed to be taking this much harder than he was and affected much more gravely as you continued to vomit, more and more indigo violet puke pouring out of you before your father picked you up and carried you to your rooms after others had tried to wipe the dragon snot off of you too.

“Put me in a bathtub, I feel I’m going to be making a mess tonight.” You urged them as your mother helped strip you out of your flying leathers as you got into the tub but didn’t throw up any further, just laid in the fetal position and clutched your middle as you were instantly in agony.

“Really? Right before a Kamoba battle you cough a loogie on Audra and Demsey and get them sick?” Axal asked his dragon as he waited for Dr. Wen Shi Chu to arrive as Grevu simply turned his back to Axal and farted in Axal’s direction before the smell made Axal start vomiting too.

“Oh you fucking brat! Just because I didn’t take you flying, you throw a fit?!” Axal yelled reproachfully at Grevu between hurls himself as he made it back to the house before his other brothers noticed he was sick and helped him back to his own room just before Dr. Wen Shi Chu arrived as he was brought to your room first.

“What happened?” He asked.

“She and Duke Demsey Voyambi were petting Axal’s dragon Grevu after their evening ride, Grevu snorted snot on her and coughed up more snot on Demsey and made them both vomit and when Axal went to confront Grevu, Grevu apparently farted on him and made him sick as well.” Your mother told him.

“Ah, temperamental dragons, what has the dragon been eating?” Dr. Wen Shi Chu, who simply went by Dr. Chu- asked.

“You’d have to ask the stable hands.” Your mother answered.

“For now, Lady Audra, drink this, it will settle your stomach and steady you.” Dr. Wen offered as he went into his case and took out a vial before you looked from it to your mothers and grandmothers.

“But what about the Kamoba rule of competitors not taking any medicine to improve their health?” You asked them.

“This is obviously a special case, and does not apply, since three competitors have been affected and not just one.” Your grandmother, Loreiris insisted which your mothers readily nodded their agreement to that sentiment before you took the vial and drank it down.

“It should help for now until I have further medication to combat exactly what the dragon ate.” Dr. Chu offered.

“If such bodily functions from a dragon are inhaled or ingested, it can lead to intense sickness, depending on how much was ingested,” Dr. Chu offered to your family.

“They all know about the mourkatili.” You informed Dr. Chu.

“Ah then they will know that you will be the most affected by it and will need the most medicine to keep you stabilized.” He offered.

“Of course.” Your mothers and grandmothers readily agreed before Dr. Wen went and attended to Axal and Demsey, who by now had seemed to recover and returned to the group, but both of them were most anxious to hear how you were faring.

“Because Lady Audra has had mourkatili in her system, her body has been harmed, and because of this, she will need the most medicine and the most intensive care. I understand a Kamoba battle is to take place and she is a competitor, she may need to bow out of the competition.” Dr. Chu advised everyone.

“If that is her choice. But I am perfectly fine with her taking any and all medicine to steady and fortify her and such medical intervention will be allowed and accepted if she is to compete or not, her health is of most importance, screw the Kamoba and it’s traditions right now.” Your grandmother, LoreIris insisted.

“Agreed.” Everyone echoed.

“Then take me to the dragon and bring me to who has been feeding him and I need to know all that the dragon has ingested and I will need to take samples of everything for testing.” Dr. Chu insisted before he was brought around and a light was brought out and when Dr. Chu saw the purple of the grass, he stopped everyone from moving or getting any closer.

“Lady Audra is continuing to purge the mourkatili. You will note it by it’s sweet smell, like violets and it’s violet color, Grevu’s bodily fluids are trying to heal her and he may have tried to affect the other two to bring more attention to the matter, he may have sensed her sickness and is just trying to help, let no one or nothing touch the violet grass, it must be dug up and all the dirt a half a meter underneath it, must be dug up, all do this must wear protective gear and it all must be burned immediately. Or it will kill otherwise.” Dr. Chu advised before Gregori readily ordered for just such measures to be done and then some.

“Ah, Great Grevu, I Dr. Wen Shi Chu bow in respect, I wish to examine you.” Dr. Chu bowed to Grevu as Grevu lifted his head and then got up and turned around to face Dr. Chu and then laid down to face Dr. Chu and bowed his head in turn.

“Were you trying to heal Lady Audra?” Dr. Chu asked as Grevu nodded yes.

“And did you try to bring attention to her sickness by affecting her brother and Duke Voyambi?” Dr. Chu asked as Grevu nodded yes again.

“Very good! He needs to be rewarded, a fine bull this time, no more old and sick animals, for that is what has made them all sick. Many people forget that dragons need dragon fruit, dragon nut, dragon weed, dragon flower, dragon mushroom, and dragon herbs in their diet. All Grevu has had in his diet has been meat and whole, old animals, he needs variety to maintain a balanced diet. You are a royal family, you have all these things, yes?” Dr. Chu asked Yalin and Gregori.

“Well, actually, no- because we’ve never had a dragon with us before so we don’t...have any of that. I don’t think.” Yalin confessed.

“That is ok, I keep a greenhouse at my house, I grow such things, I will have them delivered as soon as possible, but for now, I will need to focus on Lady Audra and get her through the night, if she continues to vomit and give way to her digestive powers, she will be too sick for months to come, she can become dehydrated, and possibly die from such dehydration and will be unable to do anything and may fall back into a deep depression, all efforts and focus must be on her at this time.” Dr. Chu advised before he wrote down directions for his household and sent for his wife to bring the proper medicine before he returned to your room as others came and sat down all around you and silently prayed for your recovery.

“Well this is one way to celebrate the start of the Kamo.” Benny tried to joke which got you to huff a laugh.

“Yeah, this is the greatest one yet.” You sarcastically agreed as you laid in the tub in your night dress but nothing else as a blanket was brought and laid over you as well as a pillow so that you were at least comfortable before Dr. Chu’s wife came with the medicines her husband asked for as well as the plants needed as she soaked cloths in special tea made from dragon weed and dragon fruit and dragon flower and wrapped it around your wrists and hands, ankles and feet and head and chest.

“Just like old times?” You tried to joke with her once she laid the last damp cloth on your forehead as she had you swish out the remaining mourkatili remaining in your mouth with special tea and dumped the light violet colored liquid down the toilet.

“Yes, just like old times.” Lady Chu agreed before she had you drink the rest of the tea once she added some honey and mint to improve the taste and settle your stomach and once your nausea subsided you were picked up, out of the bathtub and laid in bed as Dr. Chu gave you some medicine for sleep.

“Let her sleep as long as she needs, she will need at least ten hours of it, if not twelve, but no more than 14 or 15 because if she sleeps that long, she may end up going into a coma and it may be a few weeks before we can wake her up again but the chances of that happening are very small, one in...one in like a hundred so small chance but still a chance. Now the chances of her waking up in just 9 to 11 hours is very high, like 90 in 100 chances, there can’t be that much mourkatili left in her system now. But when she wakes up, give her anything she is hungry for, her body will know what it needs. If she is to purge again in the morning, have her drink this and she knows how to make this tea and this tonic, simply add the powdered tonic to hot water and the tea into a clean teapot full of hot water also, to steep for several minutes, have her drink the tonic first and the tea second and she should be fine, for now, let her rest in peace.” Dr. Chu prescribed.

“I will stay with her.” Almost everyone insisted in unison.

“No, only one or two, no more, for her sake.” Lady Chu answered.

“I am her mother, I will stay.” Your mother Jodhaa, decided.

“And I am her twin, I will stay too.” Axal insisted.

“Dem...Demsey, how is Demsey?” You asked as you fought to hang onto consciousness as your eyes tried to close as you felt them trying to cement themselves closed as you barely had the strength to roll your head from side to side, but otherwise it felt like your body was made of lead and sleep was dragging you down like a stone in the ocean.

“He is already recovered, I attended to him myself, he is orc, very strong young man, not nearly as affected as you, Grevu gave you the blue healing snot to purge your system of the rest of the mourkatili.” Dr. Chu reassured you.

“Oh good, I was most..most worried...about him. Axal, don’t, don’t stay, Ramsey needs you, let, let Calla stay and mom, don’t stay, stay with dad, I’ll be fine. Trust Dr. Chu, he is the best doctor..in the world, him and his wife.” You whispered before you practically fell unconcious as everyone seemed to give each other a meaningful look and knowing grin as Dr. Chu and his wife beamed proud smiles as the others obeyed your wishes.

“How long have you been treating my daughter?” Your mother Jodhaa asked Dr. Chu curiously as Calla left to get her night clothes to stay with you as the others saw Dr. Chu and his wife out as all of them tried giving something to Dr. Chu and his wife for their services to you.

“Ah for about a year, she sought me out with the mourkatili, I have been treating her intensively ever since. The first six months after she became a widow, we had to wean her off the mourkatili so she would not become an addict and the cold cut off would not drive her to madness and then spend another three months purging her body, I thought we had gotten all we could, but obviously the dragon wanted the rest of it out. Whatever is left in her body should be purged from her body in the morning, it seems a dragon will see to it that it will be finished from where I started. I am most grateful to the dragon as all of you should be too. Dragons often get dismissed as only being animals by most these days instead of being revered like the little gods they are and believe themselves to be. He must have known for Audra to be at her full strength, she needed to purge the rest of it, today apparently. Dragons always choose auspicious times, for us in the moment it may seem inconvenient, but in hindsight, it will be the perfect timing. By tomorrow night, I feel safe in predicting she will be back to her old self, the self you all once knew.” Dr. Chu advised as everyone smiled and blew out their sighs of relief as soon word spread as Charlotte also secretly reported the new development to her grandmother who seemed relieved to hear it and offered her own private wishes and prayers for your recovery as Dr. Chu and his wife returned home.

Demsey seemed relieved to hear the news but he was weary to believe such a thing, it seemed too good to be true as he laid in bed and wanted nothing more than to make sure you were ok as the overwhelming urge to protect you seemed to course through his viens as rest elluded him and panic gripped his soul as his better judgement told him that he needed to see you with his own eyes before got dressed at least in pants and found the secret passage to your room, but was surprised to see it was being guarded by Axal and Ramsey.

“What are you doing here?” Ramsey asked Demsey.

“I...I just wanted to see with my own eyes that Audra is ok.” Demsey confessed as Axal let a crooked grin hike up a corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, sure, come on,” Axal invited as he let Demsey into the room as Calla sat up in bed at hearing the door open.

“It’s just us, Demsey just wanted to make sure Audra was alight with his own eyes.” Axal said.

“Yes, she’s sleeping very deeply. My brothers as well as Benny’s are guarding her door and the hallway to make sure no one comes in or out and I’m sure the rest of Audra’s brothers will be there in the secret passage sooner than later.” Calla revealed as she waived Demsey over to where you still sleeping like an angel there in the bed, your slow, steady, even breathing came through your nose.

“Why the high security?” Demsey asked as he kneeled next to your bed and dared to pick up your hand and hold it, making sure it was still warm and still had life left in it and once he established the touch, the panic and anxiety in his own chest immediately melted away but is possessive protectiveness seemed to be stronger than ever as he didn’t want to leave your side now.

“We wanted to make sure Audra and her medicine were kept safe from tampering with. But one of her last words as she held onto consciousness was concern for how you were faring.” Calla informed him as she tried to keep her scheming grin to herself but her and Axal still shared a meaningful look.

“She’s...an angel.” Was all Demsey could bring himself to say before your other brothers knocked on the secret door and Demsey stood up but couldn’t bring himself to let go of your hand.

“He just wanted to make sure she was ok.” Axal told his half brothers.

“Good, We will be taking shifts all night to make sure she is ok and nothing is tampered with.” Ocerian insisted.

“Ramsey and I will take the first shift.” Axal insisted.

“Can I take part in the shifts?” Demsey asked hopefully, even though by now, he felt his feet practically plant themselves into the floor.

“Can you stay up for the next three hours?” Axal asked.

“No problem, I wouldn’t be able to sleep otherwise.” Demsey insisted as he let go of your hand to get a chair and bring it to your bedside.

“Then Ramsey and I will take the hallway.” Axal agreed before the rest of your brothers and half brothers decided on which shifts they wanted to take and shut the door before the same came to pass among Benny and Calla’s brothers in the hallway outside your bedroom door.

“Demsey, a word of advice.” Calla said as she settled into the bed as Demsey once again picked up your hand to hold it reverently from his spot as he sat down and leaned his elbows on his knees to be as close to you as he could.

“Starting now, do not continue to hide your attraction, affection or attachment to Audra. It is only because she expressed concern for you before she passed out that you were even let into the room because we all knew that Audra would find it comforting when she wakes up. Otherwise, you would have been sent away. It is not lost on anyone, and we all could see that the Dauphin and Dauphine were your only obstacles to her and our understanding of English customs culture, as limited as it is, was our only reason for not interfering either, and now that those have been removed. It is expected you respond in kind. Do not disappoint Audra, she deserves better than she has been getting. It is her own honor that has kept her away from you at the ball at Heavenfield because she believed you were already attached and whoever else has kept your heart and mind from her, you need to make the choice right here and now, who is more important, Audra or whoever else it is. Audra has already rid herself of any and all other obstacles and if she has to make it any clearer to you that she wants to be pursued by you, we are all going to think you were dropped on your head as a baby and are now retarded.” Calla insisted as Demsey nearly snorted snot onto you from snickering a laugh and had to use his free hand to cover up his nose and mouth to keep that from happening.

“Message received loud and clear. I just didn’t want to come on too strongly or too quickly, because that’s what Ramsey had done at the ball and he obviously crashed and burned and I did not want to scare her off, so I thought a more subtle approach would be wise.” Demsey replied.

“Well, yes, true as that may be. Enough of it. We’re all getting impatient. Audra included, but she has become too proper in the English sense to say anything but she is getting weary from restraining herself.” Calla revealed.

“Well when she recovers from this, I will clear the air and set this matter straight with her and make my intentions known in the most clear, direct and forthcoming way possible.” Demsey pacified.

“Oh just pin her up against a wall and kiss her, that’ll do you just fine.” Calla waived off as she turned and pillowed your head with her arm so she could feel if you would move as she cuddled into your side as Demsey huffed a laugh even though his smile was practically dreamy.

“Oh you think I’m joking, I’m serious.” Calla insisted.

“Oh no, I believe you.” Demsey reassured her.

“If she wakes up and returns to her old self again, you may not recognize her though. But at the same time, she has been sorely missed, and we would all be happy to have the old Audra back, I wish you could have met her at her strongest. She was always a force to be reckoned with and always fun and delightful to be around and her energy was that of a child at the first snowfall, eager to leave the house to play in it. And she just radiated happiness and bright sunshine and it’s like her sunshine has been hidden behind a thick fog on a cloudy day this whole time, but tonight it felt like it was just about to lift, and then this happened, we will just have to wait and see.” Calla said sleepily before she seemed to fall asleep herself before Demsey brought your hand up to his mouth to kiss the back of it sweetly and noticed a blank journal and got up and got brought the little bedside table closer to himself and grabbed a pen and decided to write it all down, all of his feelings and his intent, all of it as he happily did this to keep himself awake as he could hear Axal and Ramsey continue to be intimate behind the hidden door which caused him to roll his eyes and shake his head but at the same time, he was relieved that Ramsey was the way he was so that he dismissed himself from you.

“Word’s written down mean nothing without those same words said or those thoughts put into action.” Calla said from her place next to you in the bed, the scratching of the pen writing on the paper waking her up a few pages later as she didn’t even bother to open her eyes.

“I know, go to sleep Calla.” Demsey answered as he already had to refill the reservoir of ink in the pen itself since he had already used up what was in it the first time.

“That’s sister Calla to you.” Calla sassed with a smug grin and a dreamy smile of her own.

“Of course, how could I make such a mistake, Sister.” Demsey retorted with a fond grin of his own before she seemed to settle back into sleep.

The three hours practically flew by like the blink of an eye before Ocearian and Zax came for the second shift as Leumeni came inside the room and was pleasantly surprised to see Demsey in the room as Demsey had slid the notebook under your pillow right as he heard your other brothers in the secret hallway.

“Here to take the second shift?” Demsey asked.

“Yup.” Leumeni confirmed, rubbing what little sleep he had gotten from his eyes as Calla had woken up just a little to witness the change as Demsey left through the passage as Axal himself escorted Demsey back to his own room before going back Ramsey’s room where Octavia and Drina were already fast asleep in Ramsey’s bed as Ramsey happily got in and cuddled with Octavia to get some much needed sleep as Ramsey came in and did the same with Drina so that the guys framed the girls in the oversized bed.

“And?” Leumeni asked Calla.

“He spent practically the whole time writing Audra what was surely the longest and most wordy love letter ever.” Calla answered as she tried to fall back asleep.

“Where is it? I would have thought such a thing would be draped over her like a blanket.” Leu noted as he sat down the chair that Demsey had vacated.

“Knowing him? Under her pillow.” Calla said before she felt under the pillows and found the journal and moved it to be between her own and Audra’s to keep it protected from other prying eyes.

“Oh how gentlemanly of him.” Leumeni chuckled.

“Poor thing. I can’t imagine what kind of frustrations he has pent up.” Calla smiled as she settled back into a good sleeping position as Leumeni raspberried in a scoff.

“I can’t imagine how full his balls must be, since childhood probably, he has to tuck them into his boots.” Leumeni teased, finally being free to make such candid and crude jokes which got Calla to snort a laugh.

“I’m surprised yours aren’t dragging on the floor and will be until you can propose to Kiera and finally unload into her, poor thing will fill up like a balloon.” Calla tossed right back.

“They’re about to be, but the wait will be worth it. She may live in a very strict “polished” society but she is the kind of rebellious wild thing underneath, I can’t wait to see her go practically feral.” Leumeni smiled fondly which got Calla to smile too.

“Heaven forbid she learn of your previous attachment to Audra, she might just go so feral, she’ll go full shield maiden. She’s the jealous type.” Calla murmured.

“Yeah, I’d give everything for all those letters I wrote Audra to never see the light of day, honestly.” Leumeni confessed.

“Well, nothing has been produced yet, and if they haven’t been given up yet, I doubt they ever will.” Calla speculated.

“Gods I hope so.” Leumeni said as he changed how he was sitting in the chair to be more comfortable.

“Good night Leu, watch over her medicine.” Calla instructed sleepily before she dozed off again.

Come morning, after getting exactly 11 and a half hours of sleep, you were surprised to see your heir father in the room, half dozing off as he sat in the chair next to the bed.

“Father?” You asked when you awoke and noticed Calla was practically drooling next to you as she continued to sleep herself.

“Goodmorning Sweetheart. How do you feel?” He asked.

“Uh, groggy, what are you doing here?” You asked him.

“Watching over you, the whole, entire family as well as Calla and her brothers and Benny and her brothers took turns watching over you, to make sure you were not disturbed or that your medicine was not tampered with.” He answered.

“We are in the Palace of Windsor, I doubt…” you began to voice before your heir father gave you a look.

“Yeah, you’re right, better safe than sorry. Uh, can you, call for some hot water?” You requested.

“Of course.” He agreed before he got up and went to the door and told his own sons the order as they readily left their post to deliver the message to the kitchens.

“Everyone watched over me?” You asked.

“Everyone, even the Voyambi’s got involved, I heard that Demsey took this spot on the first watch. Didn’t sleep a wink until Leumeni took his place.” Your heir father reported.

“Even when he was affected…?” You asked.

“You were the only one really affected, Demsey and Axal only threw up once and were much better after. But Dr. Chu, he came and told us that Grevu noticed you still had mourkatili in you and his spit spurned you to purge whatever was left in you out because he was able to imbue the spit with some kind of magic as only dragons still can I guess. That’s why the grass where you threw up in the yard turned violet. It was all dug up and burned just to be safe so that it wouldn’t hurt anyone else. Apparently this medicine will finish it for good.” Sylvar reported.

“He affected Demsey and Axal to bring attention to it.” You realized as you laid back in bed and stretched but smiled fondly.

“Why he would have chosen now of all times though, he could have done that when he first came.” You noted as you frowned in confusion.

“Grevu probably had little opportunity, we haven’t been able to ride since they first came.

“That is true, he must have sensed it that first time but waited until the next opportunity and last night was the first opportunity.” You realized.

“I called him a bratty rat with wings for blowing snot on me.” You admitted.

“Well he is that.” Sylvar nodded in agreement before there was a gentle knock on the door and a maid came in with a morning tea service but had not added the tea leaves to the hot water.

“Thank you, please report to the household that I survived the night just fine and am obviously awake.” You told her.

“Yes my Lady.” She curtsied and left the room as you turned and put your legs over the bed and began the preparations to the tea and the medicinal tonic left behind by Dr. Chu.

“Your strength and resilience has never ceased to amaze me.” Your heir father praised you.

“Thank you.” You thanked him graciously as your face fell.

“Why does this displease you?” He asked.

“Honestly, I’m tired of people telling me how strong I am, how resilient I am, how many hits I can take while still being able to survive the blows, each hit that didn’t kill me did not make me stronger, all it did was just hurt me more, nothing more than that, other than to make me bleed more. It would have been so much easier to give in and just let it kill me, at least I would have been dead and therefore numb to everyone’s disappointment.” You confessed plainly as you braced yourself for the tonic and blew on it to try to cool it down before grimacing as you drank it down before trying to chase it down by eating a scone.

“You’re right. You can start now if you wish, bow out of the Kamoba battle and never get hit again.” Sylvar offered.

“Now let’s not get crazy.” You put your hand up in a stopping motion.

“But if memory serves me right, this tea will make my close proximity to a toilet most important and I want my privacy to bear that particular burden.” You offered as you then poured the now steeped tea out of the little tea pot and filled the same teacup you used for the tonic.

“Of course.” He agreed before he got out of the chair and kissed the crown of your head before he saw himself out before the tea and the tonic seemed to have an immediate effect as you hastily got up and went to the toilet of the bathroom in your room and sat down and began to have a very intense bowel movement and what felt like your period, but it was in one solid chunk of blood, that bled purple into the water of the toilet bowl but after you passed it, you bled no further but at the same time, you were relieved and happy that because it bled no more and nothing purple was left in that part of your body, that your womb was now restored to you which made you smile in relief as a few grateful tears came to your eyes, before another bout of powerful bowel movements passed and you felt five stone lighter.

“Wow, ok then,” you muttered as once you finished you quickly flushed it and went back to the bed and forced yourself to finish the tea before Calla stirred awake.

“Good morning.” You greeted her.

“Good morning.” She greeted you sleepily.

“How do you feel?” She asked.

“Well, I just had the dump like the orcs of old, when they used to crap out the tomb meat and the farway bread.” You answered her.

“And was it violet?” She asked.

“It sure was.” You confirmed.

“Good. Oh there’s something, that once you return to yourself, read what is in the journal under your pillow. I think you’ll find it most interesting and exciting to read.” Calla insisted as she grasped the journal under your pillow and pushed it towards you.

“It should be blank.” You frowned.

“It is blank no more.” Calla smiled in delight before she got out of bed and put a robe on.

“I”m glad you made it through, when you’re done crapping your guts out, come down to breakfast and get them refilled.” She urged you as you sat there and looked from her to the journal curiously.

But just before you could try to open there was another knock on the door. And you quickly shoved it under your pillow again when your half sisters, your mothers and grandmothers were there, in their morning robes to check on you.

“How are you feeling?” Your mother asked.

“Uh, I’ve already drank the tonic and the tea, if you can have someone bring me a breakfast of just simple breads, butters, honey, maybe some eggs, maybe some sausage, but not anything really spicy, the tea is making my closeness to a toilet an absolute necessity until it can run through me.

“Ah, of course, of course,” they readily agreed before they hugged you before you had to interrupt them to run to the bathroom again.

“Well, we should be letting her have her privacy.” Your mother urged them but stayed behind to watch over you herself.

“Anyone else still in here?” You called out.

“Just me Addie.” Your mother called to you.

“Hey, I’m gonna be in here for a while, there’s a journal under my pillow, could you bring it to me so I’m not bored out of my mind?” You requested as curiosity was eating you to see who had written what in it.

“Of course,” she readily agreed as she got it and came into the bathroom just as the last of the mourkatili left you as your hair made the most amazing transformation right before her eyes. Which made her drop the journal on the ground as she gasped and yelled before your other female family members came rushing back into the room and then the bathroom to where your mother was standing the doorway, frozen in shock.

“Audra?!” They yelled.

“What?” You asked your mother as they all came into the bathroom to see you sitting on the toilet as the change continued to take place in your hair as they all gasped as they stared at you in shock and awe.

“What? What is it?” You asked them before your half sister went and got a little mirror and brought it to you.

You gasped in astonishment as you looked at yourself and touched your hair to look at how it was still transforming in front of your eyes.

“Call for Dr. Chu!” You yelled at them before they practically tripped over each other trying to get out of there and out of the room quickly before Amara, Kiera and little Callie came rushing in the moment they left to still see you on the toilet, holding the mirror as you stared at your reflection before they saw you and gasped themselves.

“Don’t say anything! Not to anyone! Especially to Demsey!” You pleaded.

#Blood For Gold #Blood For Gold Chapter 17 #regency era orc period drama #regency era orcs #moura #mouras #orcs #orc reader insert

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kirk-spock-in-the-impala · 4 years

Text

Wait for Me (I’ll Come for You)

Cross-posted to AO3 here

It took Geralt three weeks to track Jaskier down after that fateful confrontation on the mountain. A week to realize Jaskier wasn’t coming back on his own. A second week spent in bitter denial. And a third week spent picking up the bard’s trail at the base of the mountain, sniffing it out from village to village, following Jaskier’s footsteps and the townsfolk singing his praises in equal measure.

The first real snows of winter were falling when Geralt reached the gates of the walled city of Talgar. The fat flakes caught the last rays of the mid-afternoon sunset as it sank below the western edges of the Dragon Mountains. This far to the north, winter came early and hard. The city dwellers had long since packed in their harvest, preserved their meats and vegetables, and battened down their homes and businesses for the violent winter storms to come.

As Geralt led Roach slowly over the icy, cobbled streets toward the public stable in the main square, her breath steaming out with each exhale, he paused at a careful distance from the door of each inn, public house, or noble’s dwelling he passed to listen for the familiar sound of Jaskier’s lute. Even though the main street was full of such establishments, none emitted the melody he sought.

Fuck. I waited too long and now this damn snow will only obscure his tracks.

Disheartened, Geralt reached the stables in the square at the end of the main road, dragging his gloved hand across his face to clear the melted snow and letting out a rough breath. He paid the wide-eyed stable keeper a silver piece for a well-appointed box stall to compensate Roach for the long, cold ride to Talgar. He removed her tack, laying it carefully on the racks outside her stall, and wiped her down, checking her hooves and legs for any stones or scrapes. Finding none, he let her loose to explore the thick straw bedding, eyes softening as he watched her wuffle in pleasure before sinking down for a good roll. He tossed her some sweet-smelling hay and added a measure of oats to her feed bucket before slinging his saddlebags over his shoulders and heading back out into the snowy night.

Geralt stalked across the main square, shoulders hunched against the icy wind, and headed down toward a more residential section of the city, across the way from where the main street entered the square. Geralt passed a series of elegant, brightly lit homes, all ensconced behind high, wrought iron gates winged with guards who glared and spat at him as he walked by, the high wind making it impossible to use his hood to hide his distinctive features. This close to Blaviken, there was no love for the Butcher.

Suddenly, the wind shifted, bringing a familiar scent of rosin and golden honey. Geralt spun to his left, lifting his head and taking in deep breaths of air.

There.

Geralt followed Jaskier’s scent to the door of a luxury inn, the stone façade bearing a tasteful, gilded sign reading: Bramblebush Inn. Stepping into the windbreak of the inn’s graceful, wooden entryway, Geralt could hear the soft sound of Jaskier’s lute playing a slow ballad.

Finally.

Geralt took a fortifying breath, heart rate increasing in anticipation of the confrontation ahead. Placing a firm hand of the brass door handle, he stepped into the warm inn.

The innkeeper, who stood at the bar facing the door, startled as he came in, eyes quickly scanning over his golden eyes and white hair before settling into a pinched expression of disdain.

“We don’t accept your kind’s patronage here, Witcher. This is a respectable establishment.” She said, tight frown pulling her aging features tight.

Geralt held up a hand, “I’m not here to stay, Innkeeper.”

“Then what do you want? Speak and begone!” The innkeeper demanded, her sharp tone cutting through the genial atmosphere of the inn’s common hall.

Geralt stepped back, opening his stance and showing her his empty hands, attempting to look as non-threatening as possible. “I’m here to speak to the bard, Jaskier. I heard he’s staying here.” Geralt said, his voice low.

The innkeeper drew up in offense, crossing her arms across her chest and looking down her nose at Geralt. “I’m hardly going to discuss the private business of my clients with strangers, least of all a beast like you!” The innkeeper’s voice was tight with ire, all attention in the common room now on the confrontation.

I don’t have time for this. Geralt sighed, confirming at a glance that their audience would not miss his use of Axii to ease this along. “Innkeeper,” he started, before a familiar tread drew his attention away from.

“Now, what’s this? Imelda, dear, is something the matter?” Jaskier’s gentle baritone cut in. Geralt’s shoulders relaxed, glad to have found his quarry.

Jaskier appeared in the doorway behind the bar, seemingly having been in a more private, back room. He immediately stilled upon seeing Geralt, relaxed expression freezing before his face went cold and hard. Geralt’s stomach dropped.

In an instant, the warm smile was back as he rested a reassuring hand on the innkeeper – Imelda’s – shoulder. “I have business with this Witcher, my dear. Not to worry, I’ll deal with him outside and he won’t trouble you any further.”

Imelda’s face softened, expression fond as she placed her hand over Jaskier’s, squeezing it fondly. “If you say so, love.” She turned her gaze to Geralt, eyes narrowing. “Be careful with that one,” she said, indicating Geralt with her sharp chin, “they’re barely more than beasts.”

Jaskier smiled down at her reassuringly. “Not to worry, won’t take a moment.” He stepped around the end of the bar and walked past Geralt to the door. “Come, Witcher.” He said, not turning back, before walking out into the cold.

Geralt followed immediately.

Jaskier lead them around the inn and into the adjacent stables, out of the wind and snow. With dark already fallen, the stables were deserted, quiet but for the soft sounds of horses munching on hay.

Jaskier turned to face Geralt, expressionless, the entire width of the stable aisle between them.

“Well?” He said flatly. “Why are you here? I thought you would have made every attempt to stay away from me since I obviously bring you such ill luck.”

Geralt felt a stab of pain through his chest at the flat delivery. It felt worse than if Jaskier had raged at him. Hit him. Hurt him like he had hurt Jaskier. He expected that. He deserved that.

“I--” Geralt started and stopped, jaw clenching as he fought to gather the words. His fists clenched at his sides, his eyes darting up and away from Jaskier’s. He drew in a sharp breath. “I was wrong to say what I did.” He bit out, gaze on the floor, nails cutting bloody half moons into his palms.

When Jaskier didn’t respond, he drew in a breath, shakier than he would like to admit, and met Jaskier’s gaze, shame drawn across his expression.

Jaskier raised an eyebrow, taking in the tension in Geralt’s frame, the white knuckles, and the miserable expression. His face softened, lips quirking into a wry grin. “You’re terrible at apologizing.”

Geralt flinched, turning his eyes back down and away, waiting for judgment.

Jaskier sighed, stepping closer to Geralt. “I’ve known you for the better part of two decades, Geralt, I knew what you said was nothing more than misdirected anger. I just got in the way.” Jaskier’s tone sharpened. “But you cannot treat me like that and expect me to stick around. I do not deserve it.”

Geralt pressed his lips together, pained. “I know. You deserve more than I could ever give you.” He could not bring himself to meet Jaskier’s eyes.

Jaskier’s expression lightened and he stepped fully into Geralt’s space. “I will forgive you,” Geralt’s eyes widened, snapping up to meet Jaskier’s. “But not yet.”

Geralt furrowed his brow, mouth opening to speak. Jaskier raised a hand to silence him.

“You hurt me. I know you regret it, but I’m not ready to forgive you yet.” Geralt felt his words like blows. “I’ve followed you and waited for you all these years, so I think it’s your turn to do the same.”

Dropping his hand, he stepped back. “I’ve taken a contract to provide entertainment here in Talgar for the Lady Agnieszka from now until the Vernal Equinox. If you meet me here then, outside the Eastern Gate, I will be ready to forgive you.”

Cold dread spread through Geralt’s chest. It must have shown in his expression, because Jaskier was quick to continue. “I do not mean for this to be a dismissal disguised as a delay. I have truly taken a contract and I truly have no desire to travel in this ghastly weather. Even if I were not contracted, I would need time before I am ready to forgive you.”

Jaskier’s tone regained an edge of its former hardness. “Keep in mind, you can be assured that my future forgiveness will be immediately revoked if there’s a repeat of such appalling behavior.”

Geralt kept his gaze on the floor, nodding sharply. “Until the Vernal Equinox then. I will be at the Eastern Gate.” He said quietly, tone hollowed out, before turning and disappearing into the darkness, footsteps unusually heavy.

___________________________

As the first snows deepened into true winter, Jaskier was safely ensconced behind the thick walls of the Lady Agnieszka’s lavish home, enjoying comfortable lodgings and excellent food in exchange for his nightly musical performance. Unlike the lean winters spent on the road, Jaskier never wanted for food or warmth, letting himself relax and letting the rich, abundant food work to fill in his lean, traveler’s frame.

The Lady Agnieszka was an older woman, well past her prime but in full possession of her faculties, who understood the power of good music and a comely face to lift the gloom of the Far North’s long, dark winter. As one of the highest-ranking nobles in the city, it was her burden and her pleasure to host near-nightly salons and parties to bring culture and cheer to the high-born denizens of Talgar.

So, she did all she could to keep her resident bard in good voice and good spirits in order that he may reliably fulfill his role entertaining her endless stream of well-heeled guests. As expected from a bard of his fame and caliber, he raised the standard of her parties, and her guest list had never been longer.

Jaskier thrived in the atmosphere and his anger at Geralt slowly cooled. He frequently thought back on Geralt’s awkward apology and, knowing his Witcher as well as he did, he understood how hard that had been for him and how ashamed he had felt.

When the Vernal Equinox comes, Jaskier thought to himself as he strummed a light tune on his lute to accompany that night’s third dinner course, I’ll be ready to get back on the road.

___________________________

As winter reached its deepest point, days short and nights long, bitter wind cutting through every layer, Geralt sat with his back to rocky hillside, protecting a small fire from the wind, curling as close to it as possible to stave off frostbite. Although Witchers were hardy against the cold, they were not immune, and this weather tested even Geralt’s limits. A small squirrel, his first catch in two days, roasted on a stick suspended above the weak flames.

Without Jaskier as a buffer between him and the general public, especially this close to Blaviken, life had returned to how it had always been – townsfolk were just as like to stone him as pay him for a job, and inns and merchants were more like than not to refuse his patronage, forcing him to rely on camping and what meager provisions he could hunt or forage in the frozen, barren woods.

Although Geralt continue to travel and take jobs, he did not stray more than a couple days’ ride from Talgar, unwilling to risk anything preventing him from meeting Jaskier at the appointed time. Returning to Kaer Morhen, far across the mountains, to wait out the winter was not even worth considering.

The image of Jaskier’s heartbroken expression on that mountain never left him. The memory of Jaskier’s sharp words, of the promised meeting, drove him onward.

After his last hunt, a brutal fight against a large nest of drowners, left him soaked and badly injured, he had dragged himself back to that hunt’s ealderman only to be met with a stoning. Willing to let him defeat the monsters but unwilling to pay him, the villagers drove Geralt back out into the woods. That night had been the closest Geralt had come to death in many decades. As the blood flowed and froze down his side, as he clung to the slim chance that his potions could save his life, all he could think about was failing Jaskier. Hurting him again by failing to show up at the appointed time.

I deserve this, but Jaskier does not. As blood loss pulled him into oblivion, that was the only reason he wished the loss of consciousness would not be permanent.

___________________________

Before daybreak on the Vernal Equinox, Geralt positioned himself outside the Eastern Gate of Talgar. He let Roach loose to graze and knelt on the far side of the road leading to the gate, palms on his knees and back straight, in full view of the gate.

“Freak.” The nightguards spat, but didn’t disturb him. They placed their hands on their hilts of their swords to make it clear he was to stay back.

As the sun broke across the horizon behind Geralt’s back, he let himself slip into a light meditation. Enough to garner some rest, but light enough to be fully aware of his surroundings.

The hours slipped by and dawn turned to dusk.

He’s not coming. Geralt thought, a cold certainty settling over his bones. There’s no reason why he should. He deserves better and I deserve nothing.

Despite his near certainty of the futility of his wait, Jaskier had not specified a time, only a day, and Geralt would not leave before the end of the appointed day.

As the setting sun cast bright colors across the sky, Geralt heard a commotion behind the closed gate and the scent of rosin and honey flooded his senses, breaking his meditation.

Voices laughing, pleading, begging, with Jaskier to “please, just stay a few more weeks, we can’t live without you!” Followed by Jaskier’s cheerful demurral that he “had to travel for inspiration, my dear!”

Geralt’s heart lifted even as cold fear gripped him as he waited anxiously for the gate to open. Slowly, it did, and Jaskier stepped out the narrow opening made, walking backwards as he waved at his adoring fans. As he exchanged final words with the gathered crowd, Geralt carefully studied him.

Jaskier looked well-fed, clean, and his eyes sparkled with joy and humor. He wore thick, expensive, wool travelling clothes, brightly colored, and sturdy boots of the finest make protected his feet. He held the reins of a handsome dapple-grey gelding, saddle bags new and packed full.

He looks good, well-loved. Geralt thought to himself, as equally happy to see Jaskier looking so well as he was unwilling to entertain the possibility that he might still intend to travel with Geralt, forgive Geralt, after spending the winter season so well treated.

After one final goodbye, Jaskier indicated to the guards to close the gates, and turned to face Geralt at last across the twenty paces of road separating them.

“I heard you arrived at dawn.” Jaskier said, smiling fondly as he walked across the width of the road. “I guess you were serious about being on time.”

“Hmm.” Geralt intoned, indicating his agreement. Now that Jaskier was finally there, finally looking at him as he used to, he couldn’t find any words.

“As talkative as ever.” Jaskier huffed, “you’re going to have to work on that.” His words were sharp, but his tone was light. “I don’t expect speeches, but a few words here and there wouldn’t go amiss.”

Geralt looked up as Jaskier stopped in front of his kneeling form. Jaskier’s eyes widened, taking in Geralt’s appearance. The harsh winter, and the harsher treatment from the locals, were writ large. Geralt was dangerously lean, worn, threadbare clothes hanging off his frame. His hair and skin were coated in a layer of grime, hands dry and cracking at every joint and cuticle. Small cuts from stones littered his face and arms, and the fresh claw marks gained on his latest hunt were barely starting to heal where they had cut into his clavicle.

Geralt opened his mouth, expression haunted with shame, but couldn’t force himself to speak. He hoped for forgiveness but didn’t expect it. He would commit himself to penance until – if – Jaskier forgave him. It’s only been a season. That’s not enough to make up for what I’ve done.

Jaskier’s heart clenched and he knelt to be eye level with Geralt. “Oh, Geralt,” he said gently, “I forgive you.” He reached out and slowly, carefully, placed a hand on Geralt’s. “You’ve punished yourself far too harshly.”

Geralt tensed under Jaskier’s hand. “No,” he forced out.

Jaskier gently rubbed his thumb over Geralt’s hand and said firmly, kindly, “it was too much. I was angry, I needed space, but I never wanted you to suffer.”

Jaskier poked at Geralt’s uninjured shoulder in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Come on, you can’t tell me you starve and work yourself to death every time you fight with a friend?”

“I’ve never had a friend before.” Geralt stated.

Jaskier’s heart ached as it always did when Geralt said something so horrifying so matter of factly, but he knew that Geralt would not tolerate anything even remotely resembling pity. He smiled at Geralt and forced cheer into his voice. “Well then, I’ll just have to teach you as we go along.”

Geralt felt months of tension finally leave his body, relief and surprise infusing his tone. “You still plan to come with me?”

Jaskier pushed himself back to his feet and held out a hand to Geralt. “My dear Witcher, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Geralt grasped his hand.

#kirk-spock-in-the-impala writes #the witcher #witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #preslash #or gen #whichever way you read it

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and-damntheconsequences · 4 years

Text

AU Idea — Swapped At Birth

If someone would write this or help me write it I would love it so much but like I could never put it together in my head well enough to do it myself so... have this...

Uther had never liked sorcery. Even years before Arthur's birth, he had made his mistrust quite clear. Magic was a power he did not possess, that he did not understand. It had strengths he didn't, and nor could he undo. It made him feel weak; he refused to feel weak.

He had sorcerers in the castle, for his own protection, but even they were never quite granted the same respect as other members of the court. Nimueh was almost an exception, the one sorceress he may have called friend, but she was certainly both the first and the last. Wild tempered as she was, she knew how to play her cards to keep her position secure. But for others, Uther didn't grant the same. Crimes committed with magic were punished much more harshly, and everyone pretended to ignore the Kings bias.

So he never makes an attempt to understand the inner workings of magic — even the idea of it makes his skin crawl — and when Nimueh tells him the price of an heir, he doesn't consider it. A life will be taken, somewhere, away from him. It's his concern. He will have a son.

But Ygraine is far more level headed, and she does think this through. She knows what Uther has done, and while she doesn't confront him on it, she can't push it aside. She speaks with Gaius, with the druids, and she knows from the early months of her pregnancy, what the price will be for her son's birth. She knows, and she accepts it, for she loves this child before she can even feel his kicking against her tummy.

Ygraine never tells Uther. There is nothing she could say that could prevent what is now in motion, that could stop either what is already set in stone, or what the King may do to seek revenge — and she knows he will. Instead, she spends her time with Gaius, one of her closest friends (during the purge, Uther spares Gaius for her sake because of this) and she tries to learn what she can.

In time, she realises the risk that her son will have magic himself is much higher than she had previously thought. It scares her more than her own inevitable death. Uther will hate sorcery after this, she is certain, and for all the faith she once had in him, she cannot say for sure that he wouldn't kill his own son in cold blood if this came to be true. She is giving her life for her son, though only a few know of her sacrifice, and she will not risk anything taking him away.

When Gaius is told of this, she pleads with him to protect her child, to do anything he possibly can. Honour doesn't matter to her; Uther, the man she once loved so dearly, is far less important than this. She will keep her son alive, she must.

When he is born, she lives long enough to give Gaius his name, Arthur, before the magic bargain strips her life away for his. The baby looks much like her, and it is that which makes Gaius risk so much to protect him.

Gaius realises this child cannot stay within the castle. Uther is already issuing decree after decree, blinded by grief and rage. To grow here with magic would be suicidal. So Gaius writes to his niece, a girl in the village of Ealdor who has recently given birth, who knew the Queen and sympathises greatly... and they hatch a plan.

Hunith comes with her son to Camelot a few days after the birth. The journey is long and hard, but Hunith has lost so much already, and she knew Ygraine, and how sweet a lady she was. It is a risk she will take. Gaius is still watching over the royal baby, telling Uther that he is sick, and it is then, at the dead of night, that they swap the children.

Gaius ensures that the true royal baby bears the name his mother chose, and that the baby he is now looking after in its place has a name fitting him too. Hunith will raise a magical son, Arthur, and her true child will grow in royalty until a time comes that it is safe for both. Its hard to say goodbye, but they are good people. They would not see a newborn killed.

Merlin, who by blood is only a commoner of Ealdor, is raised to be a Prince. Arthur, who should be a future king, is raised in a small peasant village in a kingdom not his own.

It's when toddler Merlin starts doing magic that Gaius realises the mistake he's made.

But there's nothing he can do now. He cannot swap them back, because Uther has accepted this small dark-haired boy as his own. He did once mention to Gaius that the boy looked like neither of his parents. Gaius explained it away by the magic of his birth and for a moment such a rage flashed over his face that Gaius thought both he and the child would meet a swords blade. But now he has accepted it, and he cares for Merlin. There's nothing he can do now.

He curses his stupidity for many years afterwards.

While Merlin is young, Gaius keeps him drugged on various magical tinctures for much of his day, claiming to the King that his son is chronically sick. He asks druids for their help, and they give him amulets that can dampen the magic, though they can't stop it. And perhaps through willful ignorance, and intervention and deceit on Gaius' part, the child lives mostly undetected into adolescence. Though that doesn't stop him from discovering the dragon at seven years old and sneaking off to see him for many nights afterwards (and Kilgarrah finds the whole situation ridiculous, because of course he knows, but he doesn't tell Merlin, and in time he starts to look forward to his visits, telling him stories of great magical creatures and ancient druid Kings)

Morgana knows something is up though she can't say what, much of the court have heard if not believed rumours that Ygraine was having affairs (since the child looks so unlike Uther), but as far as the King and his inner council are concerned, Merlin is the heir to the throne. He is not much of a fighter despite all his training, and his diplomacy has much to be desired, but he is the King's blood nonetheless, and one day he will take the crown.

Gaius tells him of his magical talents, but explains to him that no one can know. When he is old enough, he is schooled in spell work, and slowly begins to tap into his power.

Arthur never develops any magical ability, though he does seem to be talented at getting himself into fights with the other village boys, but Hunith raises him with love and care anyway. It is sometimes hard for her to see him as one of royal blood, when he is the same boy who comes running for his mother when he scrapes his knee, and she loves his dearly for all that he is. Still, she knows that he is not hers, and she often regrets letting her own son go so far, especially now she knows that their plan has spared no one, and only put her child in danger. She and Gaius write letters often, regretting their mistake and wondering if there is any way to undo what was done, but mostly they just tell each other how the other is. He promises that Merlin is safe, she assures the same of Arthur. Sometimes Hunith visits Camelot, sees her son in glimpses, but that is all.

When the boys are both teenagers, Hunith decides she can't continue on without seeing her son before he becomes a man. She and Arthur move to Camelot.

And then somehow Arthur and Merlin both find out the truth (maybe Gwen and Morgana too) and after all the anger and tears have come forward, they have to work together to try and work out how the hell to fix this (because Arthur is far more fitted to a throne than Merlin ever was, and Merlin is honestly pretty sick of hiding like this).

#seriously if someone could write this I'd love them #but it's such a complicated and fleshed out idea in my head that makes more sense than this I promise #merlin #bbc king arthur #bbc merthur #bbc merlin #merlin fanfiction #merlin fanfic #merlin au #merlin au idea #merlin prompt #merlin writing

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pauldron-pieces · 3 years

Text

Destrier Revel: Worth The Wait

Fandom: Dungeons And Dragons (5E)

Pairing: Destrier Revel/Illeria Stennas (F!NPC)

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: This is a hypothetical narrative scenario featuring original characters in a world created by my Dungeon Master. As usual, this is non-canon and I own nothing aside from intellectual properties specifically attached to Destrier Revel. This installment is mechanically unsound in a multitude of ways and ignores certain important lore facets.

Trigger warnings are listed inside. Enjoy!

Taglist: @sporadic-fics and @cookiethewriter!

Inspired By: Josh Groban: When You Say You Love Me and Michael Shynes: The Slowdown

Destrier Revel’s Backstory: Burn The Wicked

For Leofore

Light And Home

So Little Time

A Choice

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains body dysmorphia, pregnancy, emotional duress, triggering terminology and sexual acts between two consenting adults. Stay safe!]

It had been two months.

Technically, sixty-four days.

Sixty-four days since Destrier and the rest of the King's Elite had departed on what the king claimed was, ' the last hurrah .'

Sixty-four days since Knight-Captain Destrier Revel had promised her with an easy, confident grin that he would be back.

Sixty-four days since Illeria had desperately tried to convince Leofore to let Destrier stay behind. She had gone before the stern senior paladin, refusing to be cowed or to resort to an emotional outburst even as her hands trembled.

Knight-Commander Leofore had set his jaw, the lines in his face deepening while she explained her current situation. " I understand that you are his wife, Illeria, but I cannot show favoritism among my men. The amount of spouses and partners that have thrown themselves at my feet to beg for leniency over the course of this war… " he had trailed off, turning Illeria's fragile hope to dust that clogged her throat.

" He does not know, Knight-Commander. I did not believe it would be fair to tell him and distract him further ." She managed to say.

Leofore had looked surprised, then grateful. " You are a strong woman, Illeria. You have made my former charge the happiest man alive, and I thank you for that. Should anything occur to Destrier, I will personally see to it that you are well taken care of. "

" With all due respect, Knight-Commander, " Illeria had replied, perhaps a bit more tartly than was proper, " that is my husband's responsibility ."

It had been simpler then, like putting on a performance. But her life had become so deathly quiet in the absence of the bright beacon that was Destrier. It was as if winter had descended over the land early, sapping the color from everything and leaving it lifeless and dull.

More than once she succumbed to weeping, cupping her abdomen as if to shelter the innocent life that currently grew within her. The midwife had told her that her emotions would run high, that she would be sick and changeable. Destrier hadn't seemed to notice before he left, his easygoing nature more than able to adapt when she snapped at him.

Illeria smiled sadly down at the shirt she was mending. Truly, the man could be so incredibly oblivious when he was off the battlefield.

The ring he had given her caught the light of the fire in the hearth, the recessed stone seeming to glow in the amber illumination. Illeria hadn't removed the ring since Destrier had presented it to her, and often found herself absently toying with it during quiet evenings as her mind wandered. This was apparently one such evening.

"All I can do," the woman sighed aloud, "is simply continue to hope and pray for his safe return."

/x\

Destrier was wracked with impatience to the highest degree. He knew that it was not prudent to urge their remaining troops to march home any quicker, but his mind was ablaze with concern for his wife.

His pregnant wife.

"I still cannot believe she didn't tell me." He huffed at Leofore for possibly the hundredth time.

And for the hundredth time Leofore replied, "she did not wish to seem as though she was using the child to barter, Revel. Indeed, had you not been so reckless, you would still be unawares!" The older paladin knocked a gauntlet into Destrier's right elbow teasingly, making the younger man wince.

Destrier's right arm was bandaged to the shoulder and rested in a ramshackle sling against his chest. A Kull laying in wait to ambush them had nearly ripped the limb from his body when it had hurled him through the air; even their most skilled healers had their hands full with repairing such a wound. Mainly due to the young man staunchly decrying the aid, claiming that he was fine , there was work to be done!

It wasn't until Leofore had shouted at him, upbraiding the knight for being foolhardy, do you wish for your child to grow up fatherless, Knight Revel?! , that Destrier stopped in his tracks and permitted his wounds to be tended to. Partially out of shock, of course, but also because he knew that Leofore would not lie to him.

Now, every second that they were away was another second he didn't have Illeria in his arms. To say he was 'startled' by his body's reaction to her absence would be a lie. He could barely contain the desire to spur his warhorse to a gallop.

As the first scattered outlying farms of Mid Port came into view, Leofore finally took pity on the other paladin. "Go already! I'm about to crawl out of my skin just watching you!" He urged, giving Destrier a wink. "Go to her, lad. She's waited long enough to tell you."

/x\

As the seasons were waxing into fall, travelers were few and far between. Far better to travel during the warm summer months than to endure the raw, rainy atmosphere of the current times.

Illeria had decided that Maplecrest would be closed for the week to offer her the ability to properly scour the establishment clean and swap the bedding to thicker articles. Between cycling the linens, sweeping the floors, cleaning the chimney, washing the curtains, dusting the rafters...the young woman had been so busy she didn't even have time to think, which had done wonders for her emotional state. It was so much easier to cope with the uncertainty when she wasn't actively thinking about it, when she could just collapse exhausted into bed at night and sleep undisturbed.

She was in the middle of hemming some old linens to use as cleaning rags when the sharp sound of the front door hitting the wall caught her attention.

The awkwardly mumbled apology also caught her attention.

Illeria jolted, her eyes flying to the doorway where her husband stood.

Her husband. "Destrier!" She cried gladly. "You're back!" Heedless of the linens, she bolted from her chair by the fireplace and pitched herself into his arms.

The large man cradled her to his chest, pressing his face into the kerchief covering her hair. She heard him inhale deeply and then Destrier gave a long, heavy sigh. " Illeria , I've...I am so…it's good to be home, my love." He suddenly sneezed violently. "I see you have been busy! You are coated with grime." The blond laughed, running a finger down the bridge of her nose and across her cheekbones as if to dust her off.

Illeria floundered, her face going hot at his teasing and at the realization of the state she must be in. The woman took a step back to observe him and she realized suddenly that his right arm was bound to his chest in a sling. "Oh, what happened? You…"

"It's nothing, my love. Nothing at all." Destrier tipped her chin up and gave her a soft, tender kiss. "I'll be fine once I can get you alone once more." His words were bold, so bold, brown eyes alight with mirth as he watched her try to regain her composure. "Don't let me keep you from your work, my love."

Illeria, still overcome with relief at his safe return, returned his kiss in a manner that was incredibly improper. Her tongue stroked his own in a lascivious echo of what she would love to do to him, right here if he wished.

"Iller-Illeria, please, mercy." The knight murmured against her lips, his gaze heated when he reluctantly pulled away. "Mercy, for a time. There are a few matters I must tend to, but I will return in the evening."

"You're leaving? Again?" Illeria's emotions roiled uncertainly, tipping between sadness and joy.

Destrier seemed to notice, his hand gliding over her cheek and cupping the heated skin. "Aye, only for a few hours. What is a few more hours for us, my love?" He reasoned. "I am certain we will have much to discuss!"

Oh, if only you knew! Illeria thought mournfully, wondering if this was the last time she would be on the receiving end of his affection. Many men said they craved children, a family, but when confronted with the reality…

Destrier had given her no reason to doubt his intent, she scolded herself. Now who was the fatalistic one? Illeria forced a melancholy little smile for him.

" 'What is a few more hours' , indeed. Hurry back, love." Her panic set in once the door closed after him. "Oh Goddess ," Illeria swore, "I need to bathe! " She scrambled for the door of her quarters, nervous nausea bubbling in her throat while she stripped nude.

Her stomach was becoming more obvious by the day. Soon enough she wouldn't be able to hide it, even with her heavier homespun skirts. Illeria sighed unhappily, running a hand over the still-small bump. Perhaps...perhaps Destrier would want a family. Perhaps now, they could be simply husband and wife.

But did she have it in her to tether him so blatantly? Despite the burden it would put on her, Illeria was loath to clip his wings. Would he grow to resent her? Hate her even, for coming between himself and his pursuit of martial superiority?

The young woman set her jaw firmly after a moment, willing her lower lip to cease trembling. Surely he would not have married her if he intended to flee at the first sign of their activities bearing fruit, she tried to reason with herself. The memory of their nights spent together before his most recent departure was tinged with a bittersweet melancholy, the echo of his touch haunting her in his absence.

The realization that she may still have such a lonely life ahead of her left Illeria clinging to the washstand for support.

It was a long time before she could rouse herself to continue to prepare for her husband's return.

/x\

"She does not know that you know? Why did you not tell her you knew?!"

Destrier blinked, absently nodding his thanks to the young cleric who had tended to his arm. The appendage still ached, but at least he could move his fingers once more. "I...If it is her news to give me, Knight-Commander Leof-"

" Lad , you vex me endlessly!" The older paladin cut him off in exasperation, whirling on Destrier so sharply that his mantle cracked! in the still air of the throne room. "I love you like you are my own brother but gods , you are dense! This woman, your wife , has the patience to rival any saint. 'Tis bad enough that you came here instead of staying with her to allay her fears."

"I did not wish to stand on ceremony with our monarch, Leofore. King Jonathan deserved to hear my resignation as soon as possible, that he may find a suitable replacement." Revel replied stiffly. "Illeria understands that I have a responsibility to His Majesty and His subjects."

"She is your wife , Revel! She cannot, should not be second to your responsibilities!" Leofore retorted.

King Jonathan, observing the two men with more than a fair share of bemusement, nodded his head in agreement. "The knight-commander is right, Destrier. I appreciate your care in this matter and we will attempt to expedite the process as much as possible, but the eve of your return is not the time to discuss such weighty matters." The king took his wife's hand, his eyes growing distant. "You must cherish what you have, Destrier. Life is an immeasurably precious thing." With a wave of his free hand, the monarch dismissed the two paladins.

Leofore appeared ready to seize Destrier by his gorget and haul him bodily along, the older man escorting his blond subordinate to the nearest washroom. Forty minutes later, scrubbed pink and unruly hair plastered down, Destrier Revel emerged sans armor. His ascot was untied but Leofore assured the other knight it would not be improper for him to return to his wife in such a state of undress.

And if she was waiting for him…

Destrier couldn't help the impatience that took hold of him, his stride lengthening to devour even more ground. Across the courtyard to the stables where his mount rested serenely, anticipating his return. "Aye, you know where we're headed." Destrier murmured to the beast once he settled into the saddle, gathering the reins in his good hand.

The white horse tossed its head as if to agree, taking off at a brisk trot. Truly, Destrier knew he could have simply walked; the distance was reasonably short. But this would be even quicker still.

Illeria's belligerent plow horse didn't even look up when Destrier rode into the barn, the swaybacked animal too absorbed with its nightly feed. The knight rushed through the motions of stabling his horse clumsily, the weakness of his dominant hand making the task more challenging than it needed to be. But finally, finally , it was done.

Destrier's boots felt impossibly light as he strode across the sodden courtyard. Gods , being apart from her was torturous. "Illeria?" He called as he opened the door, raising his hand out of habit to graze the wood carving overhead.

"The bedroom, love!" Her voice met him and he struggled out of his boots, certain that tracking mud across her floors would be grounds for expulsion.

Her bedroom. Their bedroom. His heart ached. How long had Illeria known that she was with child? Keeping the secret so that he could fulfill his duties without distraction…

He didn't deserve her selflessness.

Destrier closed his eyes momentarily, attempting to regain his composure. Deep breath in, slow exhale out. The blow always hurts more if you're bracing into it. Relax , Revel!

It was now or never. The blond man squared his shoulders.

"Illeria, we must discuss-" he began to say as he pushed open the door to their bedroom, but the words left his mind the moment he saw her. No matter how many damned times he had been graced by the sight of her nudity, Destrier still found himself a bit awed. "Ah." He finally managed to say.

He was not so far gone that he didn't notice how pensive she seemed, the young man taking in the way her teeth worried idly at her lower lip. "You don't wish to touch your wife, Knight Revel?" Illeria teased after a moment, but an odd tension was in the air. "I have been remarkably patient, wouldn't you say?"

"Beloved," Destrier murmured, "you are the most patient woman alive. However, be patient for a moment longer. There is an important matter we must discuss."

"It cannot wait?"

"Absolutely not." Destrier took her hand in his own and he was discomfited to find that she was trembling wildly. "My love, you are shaking."

"Anticipation, that's all." Illeria attempted to brush off his concern, the young woman propping herself up on her elbows and then wrapping her arms around her knees protectively. "Well, let's hear it."

"I...I know why you did not tell me before I departed, of course. I understand somewhat." Destrier started cautiously. "But it grieves me all the same that you had to endure such a burden of knowledge alone, to say nothing of the physical strain!" He wrapped her in a one-armed embrace, resting his cheek on her head. "You are my wife , Illeria. My partner, my equal."

She was still for a moment, and then Destrier felt her shoulders shudder. Her hands dug into the fabric covering his back, gripping it so tightly. "I was afraid." Illeria hiccupped, her voice small.

"Afraid? Of what?" Destrier asked, genuinely puzzled.

"How you would react. Whether you would even wish to have a child at all. Your duties-"

" Illeria ," Destrier interrupted her gently. "My love, I have resigned."

"You��what?" Illeria blinked up at him, her face wet with tears. Revel used his ascot to tenderly blot them away. "B-But the kingdom-!"

"His Majesty has already approved my request. There is the paperwork, of course. I'm certain there will be stacks, yet I feel nothing but elation." Destrier told her, sure that his smile was insufferable to behold.

Her own smile in response was slower, tentative, until it bloomed fully and he was blinded by the radiance of it. Her laughter was like the first drops of rain that heralded the end of a drought, the build to incredulous jubilation that had her throwing herself headlong into his chest and covering his face with excited kisses.

Gods , he had to be the luckiest man in the entire world. Destrier simply listened to the praises Illeria murmured against his skin as if she was offering prayers to some ancient, sensual deity, and he felt more alive than he ever had on the battlefield.

Abruptly Illeria leaned her weight on his injured arm and despite his best efforts, Destrier couldn't conceal his wince. She pulled back, her brow furrowed and mouth opening to say something. No doubt she was attempting to apologize. Destrier shifted his body, his lips meeting her own hungrily once more before he settled onto his back. "I'm afraid I am too weary to fully solve this problem myself tonight." He said with a contrite grimace, gesturing at his arm. "If you would be kind enough to help me disrobe, I will pay you back in the morn."

/x\

"Are you certain? If you are not... able , I would not ask anything from you." Illeria protested, heat surging in her face from the implication behind his verbiage.

Destrier caught her hand, bringing it to his lips so he could kiss her knuckles softly. "I need you tonight, beloved. I am a greedy man, craving the warmth of your body." He murmured, his honest words sending a frisson of delight down her back. "My life has been fraught with sharp edges and the weight of hundreds of lives on my shoulders, please , let me find peace with you."

His eyes had gone distant, dark even in the orange glow of the fire, and Illeria watched silently as he pressed a final kiss to her palm and then rested their joined fingers over the curve of her stomach.

"What we have created...what you have nurtured faithfully in my absence…" the knight whispered, words trailing off as his voice broke.

"I should have been honest with you." Illeria blurted out. "I just didn't wish to pin you down. I see now that it was foolish of me to fear your reaction."

"I love you, Illeria." Destrier assured her while she began to unbutton the placket on his breeches. "You don't ever need to fear me, beloved. I would never willfully cause you harm, but I beg you to be plain with me from this point onward. Do not suffer in silence. Will you promise me that?"

Illeria rested her forehead against his, smiling at him. "Of course, my love."

Through her efforts, she managed to successfully unbutton his shirt and wrestle his breeches down over his knees, his smallclothes soon following suit. Destrier groaned low in his throat, his good arm slung over his eyes as if he was attempting to hide his reaction to her touch. But the flush that no doubt reddened his face also extended down his chest, his unbuttoned shirt exposing him thoroughly. Nevermind his cock, already hard and weeping on his stomach.

It jumped when Illeria stroked her index over the tip and Destrier exhaled a ragged gasp. "So eager, my love! Surely it is enough that you already have me with child?" Illeria teased.

"Illeria, if it is you, it is never enough." He answered her bluntly. "Rend my completion from me a thousand times and it will never be enough, beloved."

The low timbre of his voice burrowed beneath her skin, setting her body alight. Illeria straddled his thighs, her hand gripping the base of his cock to steady him. She tapped his hip bone sharply, and Destrier's eyes flew up to meet her own. "Please don't move until I permit you to. Give me a moment to adjust." The woman requested, relieved when her husband nodded rapidly. Destrier could be overeager and, while he did his best, he still was a bit hazy on the intersection of his own strength and her bodily limitations.

Illeria rose up on her knees and sank slowly down onto his cock, a whine escaping her at the slide of his length into her body. Destrier's weakened hand was fisted so tightly that his knuckles had gone as white as the bedding, his other hand tangled desperately in the blankets. "Ille-" He tried to speak, but she settled down on his hips and he made a strangled noise instead.

Illeria widened her stance slightly, doing her best to take him as deep as she could. He filled her so well, stretching her nearly to her limits as she rutted her mound against his pelvis. The woman took a selfish moment to minister to her own needs, her hands cupping her breasts to stimulate herself as she rocked back and forth on her husband's cock. Destrier bore it all while echoing her own moans, his teeth gritted.

"You're so good to me, Desty." Illeria managed to say, her hips moving of their own accord in the age-old rhythm of copulation. "So good, so patient-"

"You're killing me, you're killing me, gods let me move ," Destrier pleaded. "Let me love you, let me touch you-"

"You may move, love." No sooner had she given his permission than Illeria found his hand grappling at the small of her back, the knight urging her down to lay nearly prone on his chest. He then began thrusting upwards into her fiercely, punching the breath out of her with the depth of his motion. Illeria whimpered, the sound seeming to drive him into a frenzy as his movements became erratic.

" Gods , I-" Destrier choked out, " cannot last, damn it --"

"Come inside me, love." Illeria commanded him breathlessly, loving the way his entire body shuddered at the order.

"Gods yes, gods yes, as many times as you want, fuck -" The blond swore, his hand splayed on the small of her back pressing her firmly down on his length as he came inside her.

Illeria laid on top of him for several long moments while the two of them tried to catch their breath, her ear pressed to his chest so she could hear his heart's wild tempo. "I've missed you, love." She whispered, surprised when he dropped a clumsy kiss on the top of her head.

"Did you come?" Destrier asked bluntly, grimacing when she shook her head. "I apologize, I'm afraid my eagerness overwhelmed my consideration. I will not send you to sleep without your release." He promised, his smile a bit crooked. "I just need a moment to regain my composure."

Illeria put her palms on his chest, leveraging herself upright. Destrier groaned when his cock slipped free of her body, a muttered oath issuing into the heated air between them. Illeria, for her part, smiled down at him and then sat back on his hips. Her husband's still half-hard cock slotted smoothly between the folds of her cunt, and she shivered when the blunt head of it pushed hot and slick against her clit.

"Illeria?" Destrier called her name, his tone bordering on curiosity. "Does it...is that satisfactory to you?"

"Very much so, love." Illeria assured him, and his hand found her left breast. Large, calloused fingers cupped her, his touch almost reverent in its delicacy.

"I doubt you will wish for me to touch you in this manner once you are truly heavy with child." Destrier remarked, his expression distant once more. "But it is already more than I deserve to witness you like this."

Illeria bent down to press her forehead to his own, the woman forcing him to look at her, really look at her as she stroked herself over his member like some wanton, feral thing. "Destrier," she whimpered, feeling the way his cock leapt at her voice alone. "I never wish for you to stop touching me. I love you so much."

"And I you, beloved." Destrier kissed her eagerly, only breaking away to tilt his head back and gasp for air. " Gods Illeria, you urge me to expedite my recovery!" He huffed, chuckling ruefully. "Soon enough I will be able to give you what you crave. Forgive my momentary incapacitation."

"Don't rush yourself, my love. I rather enjoy having you at my mercy." Illeria replied playfully, loving the way his eyes lit up at her words.

"You would!" He retorted, sounding absolutely delighted. "But you know you need only ask. The very breath in my chest is already yours, beloved." Destrier reached up again, taking her chin and kissing her sweetly. "Anything you desire, anything in my power to give." He murmured into her mouth.

"All I ask for is your love, Destrier." Illeria answered, tenderly sweeping the hair stuck to his forehead out of his eyes.

"All that she asks for is all that I have to give." Destrier sighed, "it is all my heart beats for, beloved. For you, and…" he paused, laying his hand on her stomach while he gazed up at her lovingly. "For the little one."

Illeria bit her lip, warding off the tears that threatened to spill over. "Show me, my love."

/x\

When she woke in the gray light of dawn, it was to the hot, wet sensation of her husband's hard cock sliding back into her cunt from behind. Barely awake, all Illeria could do was keen and whimper while he sank deep. Destrier's mouth pressed against her ear, his long, low growl of satisfaction sending a searing wave through her body.

"How are you always so tight for me?" He muttered, filthy words that had the woman burying her face in the pillow even as she arched her hips up to greet him. Destrier grunted, shifting his weight slightly and reaching around to brush over her clit.

Illeria sobbed out a breath, too spent from their night of debauchery to do much of anything aside from angle her pelvis downwards against his fingers. Destrier let her struggle for a moment before he tapped the top of her shoulder, easing her back down until she was prone yet again. He didn't appear to care overmuch that he had trapped his good hand beneath her, the fingers of his other hand twining through her own as he lowered himself down with her.

Illeria's cunt throbbed with want around his length, the peaks of her breasts teased by the rough homespun blanket beneath her. She could have come just from that little stimuli alone, already so sensitive and alight from prolonged desire. But Destrier was thorough and patient, soothing her halfway back to sleep as he slowly rocked her between the searing embrace of his body and the warm, calloused touch of his fingers.

"Shh, it's only a dream, my wife." He teased her breathlessly as she cried out his name into the pillow. "I know, I know, I am a cruel and pitiless man to deprive you of the rest you need so dearly. Permit me a moment of selfishness." Destrier whispered, his pelvis seated firmly against her rear. "Just a moment, and then we shall sleep until noon."

"Fill me up, Destrier, make me come-!" Illeria begged, her voice cracking with desperation.

Destrier made a strange noise behind her, half-pained, his fingers spreading her folds so she could grind herself into the heel of his hand. It was barely a breath before she was coming, every inch of bare skin tingling in the frenzied glow of her aftermath.

Destrier's skin slapped against her own as he lost the fight with his patience, the young man grabbing her hips and thrusting into her as deeply as he could. "Gods, I love it when you come for me." He muttered through his teeth, almost as if he was speaking to himself. "So wet , warm, need you, gods what have you done to me--"

"P-- lease ," Illeria moaned, her breath hitching from the vigor of his motions. "Oh, please Destrier…"

" Yes ." Destrier's voice lowered to a strange, rich register as he found his completion, the man effectively pinning her down to the bed with the weight of his body while he came. Illeria felt his grip on her hand twitch with every throb, unconsciously echoing his release. " Gods , there. There. Now we can go back to sleep." He gasped after a moment, dragging himself up onto his elbows and rolling to his side.

Illeria, too tired to even think about moving, vaguely felt his weight leave the bed. After a moment, a warmed washcloth grazed her quivering cunt and she couldn't help the whine she let out, her hands clutching at the bedspread.

Destrier urged her legs apart and his fingers plunged into her, the man mercilessly stroking down against the sweet spot on the inner wall of her stomach. Illeria, though exhausted, felt yet another orgasm begin to curl in anticipatory preparation as her husband worked her over with practised, circular strokes. "One more for me? I am so greedy for you, beloved, please." He implored sweetly, like he wasn't the devil incarnate who had already kept her up half the night with his lovemaking.

Tears pricked at the edges of her eyes and, thoroughly overwhelmed, Illeria had no choice but to surrender to the burgeoning arousal that Destrier had coaxed to the surface. The way he moved, the expertise of his touch...she had never had a chance in the first place. Her husband, Destrier Revel, always brought her to such lofty heights and took his blessed time returning from them. He savored every moment with her after their first coupling, drawing the pleasure out until it lingered bright and sharp, wavering on pain.

Such was his love for her, and such was her love for him. Brilliant as starfire, soft as moonlight, endless as the very cosmos.

/x\

"What shall we name them?" Illeria mumbled sleepily to Destrier after he had cleaned her off. He was not quite as comfortable with his prestidigitation as he would like to be and besides, there was something achingly intimate about tending to her in a practical fashion. "The baby," she clarified needlessly.

Destrier froze midway through the motion of tugging the blanket up to shield them from the (comparatively) chillier air in the room. The baby . Gods, they were having a baby. He would be a father . Overtaken by emotion, he kissed her forehead softly. "It can wait, beloved. We shall have months for you to decide."

"No," his wife slurred in protest, clinging to his hand and blinking blearily up at him. "You decide. Pick a name."

"I...Illeria, you cannot expect me to name them. We know not whether they shall be a boy or a girl!" Destrier reasoned.

Truthfully, he was fearful to name a child as he had named himself . Gods only knew what his birth name actually was. Leofore had never questioned the validity of his identity, the dark-haired paladin unaware that the orphan had simply blurted out the first thing he could think of after Leofore had dragged him out of the muck of the barracks stable. It was truly a miracle that Destrier had managed to get so far in life with a moniker that reduced him to nothing but a warhorse.

The blond man's brow furrowed and he rotated his previously-injured arm, wincing a bit when it twinged slightly. He was on the mend, if only just. Perhaps he was aggressively foolhardy for being so active , but with a wife that was as eager and affectionate as Illeria…

Well, any man would be hard-pressed to consider their wounds under such pleasurable duress.

Illeria grumbled and grudgingly let him sink down onto the bed beside her. Soon enough she pressed against his ribs, her cheek resting on his chest as she hummed wearily and he stroked her hair. "It will be a boy." She murmured, sounding nearly asleep.

"Oh aye? You are sure of that?" Destrier teased.

"I am." His wife insisted, rubbing her nose against his chest. "I can tell."

"Very well. I shall not poke fun at your maternal intuition." Destrier promised solemnly, earning himself a one-eyed glare. "However I will reiterate my previous counsel, beloved. Rest . When you wake, then we may discuss further." He gestured out the window at the grey twilight, "the weather promises to be rainy, and if there is no reason for us to leave this bed…" the blond man trailed off pointedly.

Illeria still put up an admirable fight, lasting an entire seven seconds before she was sound asleep on his chest.

The former Knight-Captain Destrier Revel smiled, his finger delicately tracing the bridge of Illeria's nose. "I am so glad to have you by my side," he whispered to her, blinking away the grateful tears misting his eyes when she snuggled a bit closer to him, " my wife ."

Part Seven: The Most Important Part

#destrier revel #illeria stennas #a paladin and his love #pauldronsexual activity #non-player character x player character #npc x pc #NPC ruminations #female npc #male pc #paladin #conquest paladin #dnd character #dnd #dnd paladin #dnd 5e

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a-ratt · 5 years

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So I read all the chameleon salt and ml salt on the post and saw how some people were making it lukanette and I just thought. Luka is an artist. Marinette is an artist. Marinette know how to write poems = Marinette knows how to write music. Marinette writes songs to sing with Luka. Marinette does a cover of human by Cher Lloyd. Adrien starts dating Kagamo but their relationship is ver toxic. Marinette covers None of my business by Cher Lloyd. Lukanette endgame. Lukanette for the win.

Er, hasn’t this been done already? I could’ve sworn someone had mentioned this somewhere else. Maybe it’s just deja vu… I’m way too lazy to check on this.

So, uh, well, the first thing about your ask, anon, poetry does not directly correlate to music. Frankly, I’m a little offended because I was a part of the musical community when I played alto sax in marching band through high school to my freshman year in college. But, uh, besides my venting, you can’t just slap fancy words on a page and call it a song. It takes an ear for rhythm and beats, something I’m not sure Marinette has.

But, to entertain the prompt, let’s say she does. That would definitely motivate her to hang around Luka, someone she has a crush on physically. Their shared love for music, or just some sweet jams, would allow them to grow closer, learn about each other, and develop a bond. Her writing songs could translate into an obsession or a fun past time that Luka is excited for every time she stumbles onto his family’s houseboat. They’ll read it out, try and sing it, iron out the wrinkles, and use the finished product on their Youtube channel or something.

Meanwhile, Adrimi is going south. Hard. Kagami was only attracted in Adrien for his, apparent, pragmatism and skill. Getting to know him, she discovers he is non-confrontational and a pushover. Adrien tries to get to know her, and he does, but his attempts at trying to change her into a more pacifistic and gentler individual fail. They clash and argue, ultimately separating.

Somewhere between the end of collège and the beginning of lycée, Marinette gathers the courage to ask Luka out. They fit each other like peas in a pod. Their musical harmony and creative minds compliment each other wonderfully. Added in, there is Marinette’s dream of fashion designing, which allows her to add more flare to their costuming and art direction.

On the superhero side of things, Ladybug and Chat Noir begin building their team. Rena Rouge, Carapace, and Queen Bee are trained to use their Miraculous for good. They become trusted with them and eventually more members join them. The first is Viperion, the snake-themed superhero that Ladybug holds an apparent attraction towards. Chat is instantly jealous. The second is Yamata, the dragon-themed superhero, who is attracted towards Ladybug, but holds a respectful, professional distance. Usually. Sometimes she adds in a flirty remark just to test the waters.

Years pass and Luka hits the big leagues. Jagged Stone, who came to commission a new outfit from Marinette, meets the aspiring musician. He evaluates him, scrutinizing his favorite designer’s choice. He eventually warms up to him when he watches Luka and Marinette’s Youtube vids. There’s certain shine to Marinette when she’s with him that Jagged hasn’t often seen. He approves. So much so that he invites Luka and Marinette to a few concerts, then lets the duo appear in a couple pre-shows.

#ask Apex #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #lukanette #musical!Marinette #lukanette totally has a Youtube channel and you can't convince me otherwise #hell Luka probably has one already #Jagged Stone to Marinette is like Tony Stark to Peter Parker

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cant-blink · 5 years

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Stockholm Syndrome, Ch.2 (RODORAH FANFIC)

Chapter Summary Rodan loses his home and there’s a little bit of Rodorah teasing with some cross-species misunderstanding.

Chapter 2

The rain hasn't stopped, not since Ghidorah arrived. It was rare that his island saw such torrential weather; it was usually hot and dry, just the way he liked it. The downpour was a bit uncomfortable against his magma-filled body, the cold droplets evaporating into steam upon contact with his skin with small hisses, but Rodan paid no mind. That discomfort was pale in comparison to the pain and turmoil whirling around inside him, as violently as the thunder storm raging above. He was sitting atop his volcano nest, trying to recover from his wounds and shattered ego. His feet were perched upon one of the inner ledges and wing claws fastened onto the rim. Below him was a drop-off leading into a cavern where his nest resided. It was usually filled with magma, where he would submerge himself until only his head and upper beak broke the surface to breathe. The eruption that accompanied his awakening also emptied his nest of most of the magma, leaving only a small pool seeping up from beneath the Earth's crust. It would take time before it refilled, time Rodan wasn't sure he had this time around. The warmth of his home, the familiar scent, hearing the sound of the liquid rock bubbling under him did little to comfort. There were still jolts of pain coming from his shoulders and throat, although the magma that once flowed from the injuries had since hardened into volcanic rock, acting as a scab as he healed. He was so tired, and he wanted to fall asleep right here and now. Maybe when he woke up, he'll find this was all just a terrible nightmare and things can go back to what it once was. He can fly over to wherever Godzilla was and throw a rock at his head, like the good ol' days. The fuming expression that grumpy lizard would give him was worth the subsequent Atomic Breath to the face. All in good fun, of course. But he knew that this wasn't a nightmare. It was childish and delusional to think so. He really was the hostage of some alien freak and his hope for things getting better diminished by the second. So much of Rodan's time resting here was spent scanning the water's surface from horizon to horizon just hoping Ghidorah was wrong and Godzilla would come stomping onto the beach to confront the dragon. But the only thing that graced the shores of his island were the washed up bodies of those who died from the suffocating blast. Even then, Godzilla's body wasn't one of them and Rodan was denied any opportunity to pay proper respect to his deceased companion. All because of that damn alien bastard… His eyes lowered down the slope of the volcano towards the remains of the human nest, where the hydra was currently located, and he scowled. He was being allowed rest, sure, but it was little consolation. He knew beyond his island, the world's balance was in chaos, as the dragon's first order was to destroy anything and everything. Rodan knew the other titans would obey them, not that anyone had any choice. This monster was letting off telepathic waves of fear and dread, felt even on the opposite end of the world. It was especially powerful, being so close to them. Almost like a suffocating smog. Rodan tried his best to fight this mental manipulation Ghidorah was holding over him. Every instinct wanted him to get away from them, but he resisted it. He kept having to remind himself that he had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Besides, even if that wasn't the case, the dragon wasn't allowing him any opportunity to make a break for it. They did not trust him and he knew they wanted to keep him in their sight rather than letting him loose to do his own thing. Hell, they didn't even want him to head down into his nest cavern, instead having him remain in view at the summit of the volcano. He can see the right head glaring up at him almost constantly. Did he make them that nervous, that they thought it was necessary to keep him out of trouble to such an extent? Displaced bravado, Rodan knew himself and he lowered his head with a sigh. He was their prisoner, their hostage, nothing more. They knew that he was friends with Godzilla and subjugating him was a final insult to the previous king's memory. If he ran, they would literally chase him down to the ends of the Earth and even if he could outfly them, he would tire eventually and no doubt be killed for the attempt. The other titans would probably be of no help, and if anything may capture him themselves to earn brownie points from their new king. He couldn't even trust his fellow titans. Well, except Mothra. He wondered what she was doing. Has she fallen under Ghidorah's spell? She was a powerful telepath herself and wouldn't be affected by this artificial fear the dragon was creating... right? Even if she did, she wouldn't kneel to his commands, as she had an exceptionally strong bond with Godzilla as well as a special interest in the well-being of the humans. She wouldn't turn on them and who knows, maybe she was on her way right now to rescue him! He shook his head slightly; to get his hopes up like that is foolishness. Mothra was no more powerful than Rodan was and even if they teamed up, without Godzilla, they still won't stand a chance against this monster. Worse, what if Ghidorah decided to use him as leverage against her? He let out another breath. He just wanted to sleep… Resting his beak against the rim of the volcano, he watched the dragon below do whatever it was they were doing. They were moving among the human nest, whatever structure that remained intact from Rodan's previous flight was examined thoroughly. Ghidorah was looking for something, it seemed, but what could possibly be of any interest to the dragon in a human nest? They didn't seem to take any of the human machinery, so they weren't seeking to acquire their weird technologies. It took a moment for Rodan to realize what the dragon was doing... - This was one of their favorite past-times. Brittle stone structures crumpled to their feet as they moved through the roads and pathways weaving through the alien city. It was a tight fit, as this settlement wasn't made to accommodate a being of their immense size and strength. They mostly kept to the wider paths, but still had to crush several buildings to get around. Each of their ears were alert for the slightest sound beyond the thunder of lightning and their own footfalls. Ichi kept his head low to the ground, his eyes scanning any possible hiding places their victims may try to take refuge in. Ni held his head higher than his lead brother, peering over the rooftops of the structures on the chance one of these tiny aliens would seek higher-ground. But mostly, the right head was keeping watch for any possible ambush and to make sure their little prisoner didn't try to foolishly take off from them. So far, the little fire pest made no attempt to do so, just staying on his precious volcano like a good slave. Shame he was being so well-behaved, Ni was looking forward to sinking his teeth into that defiant little neck again but he knew he would have his opportunity. Even if the bird cooperated for the duration of their stay here, he would be dead when they're done with this mudball of a planet. As they climbed over one building that collapsed under their weight, Ichi took a moment to pause and peer into the windows of one of the larger structures in this desolate city. San paid no attention to the building himself, instead seeking out the nearest alley beside it and squeezing himself through it. This was what he normally did whenever they came to a halt: snake off into a narrower path to explore. For once, his eldest brother did nothing to discourage him. Indeed, this was one of the opportunities where Ichi found great use in his youngest sibling's insatiable curiosity. They've already found a couple of survivors in unlikely hiding places thanks to San's wanderings. The rough texture of the stone scraped harmlessly against San's golden scales, his horns dragging furrows into the walls. His forked tongue flickered out to touch the wet ground, picking up scents and tastes. This was San's favorite thing about visiting new planets; they always held such exotic wonder to his senses. His brothers didn't really get it. After all, what was the point in taking it all in if it was all going to be destroyed? No, they had their own interests that actually fell in line with their main goal. Ni was more keen in partaking in combat with the local fauna and bore many scars and even a broken horn from some of their more worthy opponents. He was always the most observant of their surroundings in the battle field and the most eager to get up close and bloody with their adversaries. He was exceptionally brutal in his methods and mannerisms, not one to be taken lightly. Hell, even their old nemesis, the former king of this world, often made it priority to try to neutralize Ni as a threat. Ichi was a fighter as well, but it was the act of conquest itself that he took special interest in. He derived great pleasure in figuring out the power dynamic of whatever planet they happened to land upon, then tearing it apart and placing himself at the top before moving on to the utter destruction of the world. This was what kept them here for as long as they had, Ichi's desire to dethrone the planet's Apex titan. Rarely did they stay in one spot long enough where learning the native language beyond the very basics was actually useful. Granted, it wasn't as if they were in any particular hurry, but they've been on this backwater planet longer than what was usual. Not that San's complaining. He still had a lot of things to see here. He wasn't as much a fighter as his older brothers; no, it was something he did because he had to, although it was usually worth it when they inevitably win and got to enjoy the spoils of their victories. He especially liked when they focused on the smaller targets, ones that he can torment with little fear of retaliation. Targets like the little alien bugs that infested this planet and built these structures. He came across a crumpled body of one such tiny alien, one of many that littered this city. They didn't know exactly what happened to this alien city before they got here, but as long as they still got to have some fun, it didn't matter. After a moment spent listening to Ichi's slow and deliberate movements, and Ni's constant deep rumble that assured them that the coast was clear and all was well, San flicked out his tongue again and licked up the body. It was always hard for him to tell when he's allowed to lick and eat things; he usually just had to go for it and get bitten or yelled at whenever Ichi deemed it inappropriate. But it was alright this time, right? After all, his brothers got to eat back in that frozen wasteland, so why shouldn't he get a bite too? No sooner did he do that than he heard a very soft sound, just barely above the sound of rainfall. His eyes moved from the ground to further down the alley. He saw a small ground vehicle, turned onto its side against the wall with the slightest bit of movement from within. A small smirk graced his snout, his eyes glinting with predatory interest. Instincts spurred, he slowly moved forward as if stalking the immobile vehicle. It wasn't a silent approach, sure, but he didn't care. Whatever was there was dead either way, might as well PRETEND that it had a chance. The movement inside the vehicle stopped as he moved towards it, as if the creature inside thought he hadn't noticed its previous actions. Reaching the overturned piece of metal, he sniffed it curiously before moving his head over the vehicle, tilting slightly so as to position one of his eyes to peer inside. There it is, a tiny little alien cowering in the back farthest from him. Letting out a soft amused chitter, he poked the vehicle with his nose as gently as he could. He knew how fragile these aliens and their machinery were, but he still felt the metal creak and the glass beginning to give way at his nudging. The screams inside only encouraged him- "Brother San." It was Ichi, regarding him in their native tongue. He didn't need to look up to know his brother was waiting for him, as it was time to move on from this spot. Knowing he would likely want to share in the fun, San carefully tried to maneuver the vehicle away from the wall before he took the vessel into his jaws, his teeth piercing through the metal easily although he was being as delicate as he could. The scream inside got louder and he could feel the sides of the vehicle pushing against his jaws and tongue. The alien was no doubt trying to open it to get out, but it was a fruitless effort. With their new toy secured, he went to back out an- He was stuck... His horns, facing backwards, were hooking into the walls and his attempts to pull himself out only dug them in deeper. Blinking, San began to wriggle, only making things worse for himself. All he had to do was move his neck and head upwards towards the empty space above the rooftops but he wasn't exactly the brightest star in the galaxy. He could almost feel his eldest brother glaring at him disapprovingly and he felt Ichi's snout nudge underneath the base of his neck and push him up. With his guidance, San was free. He shook the dirt and rubble from his scales, raising his head to show gratitude for his sibling's help, only to get a nip on the horns. Yeah, he deserved that. But at least he got a prize! He lifted his snout up pointedly at his brother, showing him what he's found. Ichi looked unimpressed at first, but when San only very slightly bit down on the vehicle, the resulting screams and whimpers had a smirk grow on the eldest dragon's muzzle. San needed no prompting to lower the vehicle towards the ground and he dropped it. He and Ichi proceed to nudge the hunk of metal around, pushing it along the road. The distress calls from within persisted and the alien inside seemed to try to push the doors open. But the damage done seemed to have trapped it inside. Ichi carefully broke the largest of the glass windows, offering the alien a way out. He wanted it to have a shred of hope at escape, and he nipped at San to stop; the vessel had been turned over and the alien inside had gone quiet. The eldest brother peered into the windows, making sure their victim was still alive and capable of moving. It was visibly shaken and bleeding, but it dragged itself to the front of the vehicle away from him and towards the shattered window. Very good, little alien. He and San stay quiet, lying in wait for the alien to emerge from their toy. After a moment, movement from the shattered window caught their attention and the tiny creature crawled out of the wreckage. It was shaking and bloodied and making whimpers of distress that felt wonderful to their ears. It looked up at them, its little eyes filled to the brim with terror. San let out a trilling chuckle and Ichi smirked, sharp fangs flashing to scare the alien into running. But it didn't run, and it didn't even try to scramble up onto its feet. It took Ichi making a false lunge for it to spur into action, snapping the air just short of the alien. It scrambled up and tried to flee, instead falling on its face. Oh, it was too injured to run. Such a shame, although Ichi felt it was getting late anyway so might as well wrap things up from here. It was speaking to them, yelling out unintelligible words the hydra had no understanding of. It was a pleading voice, shaking almost as much as its body was. It only fueled the sense of smug superiority in Ichi, knowing the creature was begging for its life at his feet. There was a satisfaction in knowing whatever bargains it was making for them to spare it was going unheeded. They let it simmer in this fear, a golden glow rising in both their throats as surges of electricity erupt from their chest towards their mouths. After a brief moment, letting the alien creature go quiet as the dreadful realization of its doom settled in, they both unleashed their Gravity Beams upon it. It was reduced to ashes instantly, the vehicle it had previously taken refuge in now went up in flames with a loud explosion. The flames and destruction spread as Ghidorah brought their immense power over the rest of the city and this pathetic little island. - Seeing Ghidorah wreck havoc on his island, their Gravity Beams tearing through the human nest and the surrounding patches of forests, Rodan felt a familiar if not weary sense of agitation. Territorial instincts rose in his chest, knowing his home was being destroyed right in front of him. It was one thing to accidentally blow over the human nest; collateral damage was unavoidable and something Rodan was not bothered by. Any of the small critters that shared his home just had to adapt. But there was no adapting to this, this purposeful unprovoked annihilation. He shouldn't be angry over this, right? Ghidorah is the Alpha, the... king. They could do as they pleased and it was not his place to question it. Yeah, no, screw all that! If it were Godzilla doing this, Rodan would still be standing up to him regardless of the pecking order! This was HIS home, the only home he's known since fledging. This island held so many precious memories; he had his first and only mate here. This was where they were planning to have hatchlings together, a plan cut short by Manda's intervention. To have these memories, HER memories, tarnished by someone he already had such a strong hatred for... The glowing edges of his wings were growing brighter from the building anger. He wanted so badly to swoop in and dive-bomb the shit out of the hydra, like an oversized magpie from hell. But he can't, as he knew full well it wouldn't end in his favor. There was a difference between standing up to Godzilla and standing up to Ghidorah and that difference being that the latter would have no qualms in killing him. But his home was falling into ruin, and he had to do SOMETHING! But what? His inner conflict and agitation must have been obvious, for the ever-observant right head stared at him for an uncomfortably long moment before speaking softly to his brothers. They were too far away for Rodan to hear, although he was certain they were speaking that stupid alien language of theirs anyway. He had yet to hear Ni speak in any other tongue than their own. He maintained eye contact with the lead head as all three looked up towards him. Intense, unfaltering, rage-filled eye contact. Eye contact the middle head still did not break as he spoke something towards his brothers, and at this cue, both left and right head unleashed another wave of Gravity Beams. Rodan flinched on instinct but it wasn't aimed at him. No, it was the destruction of the island that continued, and Rodan felt his rage increase. Ghidorah was still staring him down as they tore apart his home, as if goading him into doing something about it. But there was nothing Rodan could do about it, and the dragon no doubt knew this. They were twisting the knife in deep and after a moment, the pterosaur couldn't watch it anymore. He finally broke the stare-down, turning his head away and trying to block out the sounds of his island falling apart. He didn't know how much time has passed before the carnage around his volcano finally came to a stop and he risked a glance towards the hydra. He focused only on Ghidorah, not the burning wreckage around them. He didn't want to see the state his home was left in. His volcano was the only thing he had now. Without warning, the dragon spread their wings and with a powerful downstroke, lunged towards him. Rodan felt the ever-present fear intensify, but his anger outweighed it. Despite having this hostile creature that was three times his size rushing right for him, he stood his ground and braced himself for the impact, claws digging into the rocky rim of the volcano's mouth. But there was no impact as Ghidorah landed upon the volcano's slope, just short of him. Rodan's beak opened instinctively to hiss, and he had to crane his neck to look up at their faces as they towered over him. His wings twitched open a bit, careful not to flare out fully lest he loses his balance and falls into his nest. What an embarrassing move that would be. Standing upright on their hind legs, Ghidorah rose their wings high and wide, their already immense size seeming to increase with this action. The sound of rattling erupted from their tails, and their necks held their heads up high. All three of them had their horns flared out, their eyes flashing under the lava's glow as they glared down at him. Against the thundering storm clouds in the night sky, the whole thing was the single most terrifying dominance display Rodan has ever seen. Yet he still stood his ground. He did not retreat into the cavern below him. He did not take flight, nor did he scurry down the slope opposite of the hydra. He just glared up at the much larger titan, doing nothing to escalate the situation further but making clear that he was not submitting to them either. They almost seemed surprised by his gall, that he wouldn't cower back despite every advantage they had on him. They could kill him right now if they wanted, and both parties knew this, yet Rodan still doesn't yield. After a moment, the middle head's lips curled back in a smirk but his voice was cold and toneless. "Bravery or idiocy?" Probably both, to be honest. But Rodan didn't speak this thought out loud, instead trying to keep his own voice from faltering as he narrowed his eyes firmly at them. "Get off my volcano." And my island... and my planet while you're at it. This earned a soft snort from Ni, as the middle head continued with a dangerous edge to his words. "Your volcano?" Rodan was almost blown right off the volcano's rim when Ghidorah slammed their wings down, the dragon leaping up into the air and slashing their talons into Rodan's shoulders and chest. Their claws reopened his wounds, left marks on his armor, and the pterosaur gave a startled cry of pain. The force pushed him off from his perch and he fell into the volcano. His wings flared open on reflex, his flight fingers scraping against the walls and unable to flare fully. Even if he had the ample room to do so, he had no time to right himself as the fall into his nest was a short one. Crashing next to the molten pool of rock, shaking the mountain itself, Rodan felt the breath leave his lungs in a violent cough when Ghidorah landed atop of his chest and stomach. He wriggled on instinct, but he already knew from their last confrontation earlier that he wasn't going to get away from this. Still, it would be nice to be able to breathe properly, a luxury the dragon had no real interest in allowing him at the moment as they sneered down at him. "Do you not understand that nothing belongs to you?" the middle head hissed scornfully. "Or were you foolish enough as to think this pathetic little island would be spared while the rest of this world falls?" Of course Rodan knew his island was doomed the moment Ghidorah claimed victory. But it was one thing to KNOW it'll happen and quite another to actually SEE it happen right in front of him. Instincts were instincts, not to be changed, and he felt that his rage at seeing his home get decimated was justified. As was his frustration at knowing he was powerless to stop it. And his despair, knowing that everything he's worked for in his life was for NOTHING. Rodan has stopped wriggling at this point, trying to maintain a glare although he winced when Ghidorah shifted their weight for no other reason than to cause him greater discomfort. He snagged breaths sparsely, whenever he was given the slightest opportunity. It was barely enough. "Just..." he managed to choke out. "Just finish the job already..." Just rip off the band-aid, make the pain of losing everything fast and easier to swallow. That was the best he could hope for. But alas, asking Ghidorah to not torture him in such a fashion was a useless endeavor and he heard a snicker from the left head. "We will," he started, trilling voice not quite as fluent in Earth's language but understandable enough. "But why waste good opportunities?" Rodan glanced over at the left-most head, whom was looking about his nest with a face that made the pterosaur awfully uncomfortable, moreso than usual. It didn't help when the left head chattered something to his brothers and Rodan cursed inwardly, trying to figure out what was being conveyed via context clues. The middle head's face was unreadable, but he didn't seem particularly moved by whatever was being said. There was no sign of objection or disapproval either, just watching the other head talk from the corner of his gaze. When it was all said and done, he gave a soft snort before he narrowed his golden-red eyes at the little bird pinned beneath their body. "Be grateful towards Brother San, slave," he hissed. Rodan REALLY didn't like being referred to as that, no matter how true it may be but he was given no time to object to the term as the dragon continued. "He wishes this volcano to be spared, for now." "Wha...?" Rodan felt a spike of unease catching the word in his throat. He wasn't liking where this was going. He wanted his volcano to remain untouched, yes, but surely Ghidorah wasn't going to let him off the hook so easily, right? They're up to something and he wasn't sure if he wanted to hear just what they were planning. He had an idea as to what it was, but he didn't want to hear it. "We are to rest here for the night." The middle head declared, to the pleasure of the now purring San. Rodan felt his heart drop, his fears confirmed and the plates of armor around his chest rising up a bit as if to emulate ruffled feathers. They were going to sleep in HIS nest?! Taint his home with their presence, their scent?! Volcanoes were incredibly important to his species. Males especially were expected to keep one volcano their entire lives, defend it from usurpers and use it to attract mates. Only the mated pair and their hatchlings were allowed to reside within it. Not even Godzilla was allowed into Rodan's volcano, something his old friend was quite understanding of as long as Rodan gave him the same respect of not intruding his own nest (as if Rodan was interested in swimming around down there). But this creature had NO such respect. To not only trash his island but then invite themselves into his nest was one of the biggest insults they could've done, much worse than just destroying it. Then again, it was no longer HIS volcano, was it? He couldn't defend it if he tried; to do so is a battle already lost. If anything, HE was now the intruder in THEIR nest... It was another bitter blow to his ego. First his best friend was killed, then his dignity stripped from him with humiliating defeats, his freedom ripped away, his island devastated, his nest stolen. Everything important to him was now gone. When Ghidorah finally got off of him, as Rodan caught his breath, he almost didn't want to get up. Even with the dragon's weight now gone from him, he was still feeling a crushing sensation within him. What was the point of getting back up? Can't stay in here, the instinct told him. It was proper etiquette among his kind, to immediately vacate a volcano that no longer belonged to you, and just because Ghidorah wasn't respecting the social norm of his species, doesn't mean he should, -or could-, forget it himself. Rolling back over onto all fours, he did not have the room to take flight from here, which was fine. Instincts told him that his movements are to be slow and deliberate anyway so as not to provoke another attack. He hated this, he hated himself but he tried to remain dignified in his loss. He avoided meeting the dragon's burning gaze as he moved to the opposite side of the chamber; granted, there wasn't much room to work with given Ghidorah's great size. He reached up a wing to grab one of the ledges along the wall and began to pull himself up and out towards the exit. "Where are you going?" he heard Ghidorah snarl and he doesn't even look back over his shoulder at them. "It's your volcano," he spat out like the words themselves were bitter. "You really expect me to stay in here?" "Yes, we do." He heard the response and he froze. His insides froze, his instincts confused about how he should be reacting to that. They couldn't possibly be serious! He was supposed to leave the nest, hang out OUTSIDE the volcano if they still wanted to hold him hostage. But to invite another adult into one's volcano, that- No! One simply did not do that! Not unless you're trying to invite them into... ... Oh... He tried to give it the benefit of the doubt that it was just Ghidorah wanting to ensure he wouldn't try to run off. That was no doubt the case, and the dragon was completely unaware of the implications of insisting he stay in here with them. Still didn't stop Rodan from feeling immensely uncomfortable and horrified though. Instinct did not care about what logical reasoning he had. As far as it's concerned, the monster that killed his best friend, destroyed his island, stole his volcano, and ordered the destruction of the planet... was trying to court him by wanting to share a nest with him! He hated instinct sometimes. He finally looked over at them, the utter disbelief etched into his face. They. Can't. Be. Serious. The stern look on their faces told him they were very serious. Okay. Trying to hide how awkward this was, he had to remind himself repeatedly that Ghidorah is an ALIEN and doesn't know any better and wouldn't care to know any better and that his panic REALLY needed calm down. He let go of the rim above and lowered himself back down to the ground. He would normally sleep in the pool of lava at the center of the nest, but this time he pressed against the opposite wall of the hydra, trying to get as far away from his captor as possible. Feet tucked beneath him, flight fingers held tight to his body, Rodan buried his beak beneath a wing and tried to relax. Forget the awkwardness, forget the panic and rage and despair. Just give in to the sleep that continuously plagued his mind earlier. As if he ever could. - Ghidorah was pleased by the compliance of their hostage and took particular pleasure by the sudden horror on the pterosaur's face. No doubt, he was hoping to make an escape attempt by crawling out of the volcano and his disbelief that they weren't stupid enough to fall for it was quite amusing. His obvious discomfort as he sat there in his little corner trying to avoid looking at them made it even better. Ichi wasn't initially intending on resting here, as he wanted to cave in this inner chamber and move on to the mainland where it felt less cramped. But his youngest brother seemed really excited to spend the night here, pointing out how warm it was. Ichi would be lying if he said the idea wasn't appealing to him. After being trapped in ice for who knows how long, the heat of this volcano was a welcomed change. They moved closer to the lava pool at the center of the nest and settled themselves onto the ground beside it, tails curling around on opposite sides of their body. Their wings were tucked loosely by their sides as they began their nightly routine by grooming themselves. It was a somewhat interesting sight, seeing this genocidal three-headed dragon engaging in such an unremarkable activity. One might think it was an odd thing, but like the dragons of lore, Ghidorah was a vain creature that took pride into maintaining the luster of their skin. Forked tongues and sharp fangs tended delicately to their golden scales and wing membranes. All three heads worked in unison, Ni and San tending to the wings on their respective sides as well as their tails, Ichi allowing them temporary control over their respective limbs to make the process less of a hassle. Ichi himself was focused on the main body, curling around to take care of their back and sitting up slightly to work on their chest, belly, and legs. Each head then tended to their own necks for as much as they can reach. At this point, Ni had settled his muzzle onto the tail that was curled on his side, growling softly when Ichi started to groom his horns and face. But the bluff was ignored completely. He always growled when getting his face cleaned and usually doesn't object beyond that. At least not with Ichi; whenever San tried, it would always result in Ni biting him harshly on the snout. But with his older brother, he learned early on to tolerate the face cleaning lest Ichi asserts dominance with a more forceful, much rougher power-groom instead. Better to just get it over with and he shifted slightly to allow his brother proper access to the underside of his jaws and throat. After his grooming session was over and all the dried blood has been cleaned off, Ni stopped growling and closed his eyes. Ichi moved on to San, who was stretched off to the side examining a particularly glossy black rock. The eldest brother bit into San's neck and gave a firm tug, causing him to cry out but nonetheless he moved towards Ichi for his grooming session. The youngest was much more receptive to the attention than Ni was, letting out soft pleasant purrs and staying still for the most part. His attention would occasionally falter and he would try to wander off back to that rock, but a reprimanding tug on the horn kept him focused. San was still quite dusty from his incident back at the alien city, so Ichi took extra time to make sure his sibling was spotless. When they were done, Ichi lifted his snout higher and at this cue, San returned the favor by grooming him. Unlike his siblings, Ichi made no sound as he was being groomed, focused mostly on ensuring San didn't miss a spot. But the youngest was diligent in his work and stopped only when Ichi pulled away and growled. The eldest still did not allow San to explore after, hissing at him when he tried. "Sleep. Now." he ordered, and San knew better than to object. They had a strict routine: sleep comes after grooming, and no more of his little shenanigans to risk getting dirty all over again. Glancing towards the rock, San let out a breath through his nose and settled his snout upon the tail on his side of the body. An unspoken reason why he wanted to stay here was to explore the inner workings of Earth's volcanoes more closely, but as usual, he was being denied. Well, at least he was the closest to the lava pit, all nice and warm. He savored the heat until he drifted off into sleep. Ichi watched over his younger brothers as they slept, taking the first shift of guard duty for the night. He glanced over at the fire pest, catching their little slave staring at them before hastily closing his eyes and feigning sleep. Foolish creature, probably hoping all three would eventually drift off and allow him an opportunity to escape. His hopes will be crushed then when he realizes that Ghidorah never truly slept.

End of Chapter 2

#godzilla #king of the monsters #Rodan #king ghidorah #rodorah #rodan x ghidorah #awkward moment when your captor unintentionally hits on you

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parasite-core · 4 years

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So I’m playing Skyrim for the umpeenth time. Normally I play one of my D&D characters, but inevitably get bored when I can’t really act out everything they’d do. So this time I decided to actually make a character from Tamriel to play. Thus I created a former Thalmor mage, a traitor to the Dominion on the run. I have no idea what his real name is, when he was asked for his name in Helgen he told them it was none of their business (they were going to execute him anyways and he’d rather die fast by Imperial headsman than be tortured and killed by the Thalmor) His in game name just says “None”, and I’ve been calling him Nonni so we’ll go with that.

Anyways after Helgen he followed the main story up through Whiterun because he felt honorbound to at least warn the Jarl about the danger to Riverwood since Ralof helped him to escape. He even agreed to help get the Dragon Stone because it wasn’t like he had anything better to do, and running around in an old tomb could help any trail on him from Helgen hopefully go cold.

During the dragon attack on the Whiterun Watchtower, Nonni slayed the beast with a frost enchanted sword he’d found in Bleakfalls Barrow—the first time he’d used a sword, his preferred weapon, since leaving the Thalmor.

Nonni said ‘fuck this’ to the entire situation. He’s no dragon fighting hero, and suddenly all the Nords in town are treating him like some legendary savior, and a voice from the sky called him to the highest mountain in the realm. No way. He just wanted to lay low somewhere, not get roped into Skyrim’s issues. And definitely not draw attention to himself by playing hero. So Nonni made his way south to Falkreach, intending to slip through the southern border and make his way towards Hammerfell. This didn’t work out, the southern border was blocked off and he found the mountains nearby too treacherous to climb to try to circumvent them. Worse, another dragon swooped down near the border, and he had to slay it by himself. Cold and wet from a rainstorm starting, and despondent at the realization that these dragon’s would just keep coming, he made his way to some nearby ruins to get out of the elements. He decided to take the time while he waited out the weather to explore the old ruins, in the hope of finding some treasure to fund his unwilling but necessary travels to High Hrothgar.

The place was infested with skeletons and two vampires. The first he met just inside, she was weak and starving and was easy to take out. The second, in the deepest chambers of the ruins, was a much stronger master vampire who nearly managed to kill Nonni. After a difficult struggle Nonni managed to limp his way to the top of the ruins, where he unwillingly found another word of power and an exit high in the mountains.

As he left the ruins he began to feel a nagging hunger that his rations didn’t seem to quench, but he shrugged it off as having just dealt with a long and frustrating day. He took some time to climb down the mountain and began a long journey back to Falkreach.

Along the way he ran into a hunter from Falkreach whose companions had been killed by Spriggans. Nonni healed him and helped to avenge his companions, with the promise from the hunter that he could keep the alchemical pieces of the Spriggans for himself. He had no problem with the Spriggans, but was badly hurt by a bear that was also in the cave and began to feel feverish. The nagging hunger had gotten sharper as well. Something about being around the injured hunter made it worse, but Nonni still shrugged it off as the effects of fatigue.

After this he did a few favors for people in Falkreach, including getting a lost journal for their local priest of Arkay. He was a bit nosey and read some of they journal entries, which seemed to say that the priest had a vision of Nonni and the return of the dragons. More importantly, in Nonni’s mind, he found the sword of a deceased member of the Blades. Being former Thalmor he didn’t feel comfortable using it, but kept it as a reminder and to possibly return it should he stumble on any other surviving members someday.

Once he had money and supplies, Nonni began his trek back to Whiterun, intending to get a carriage to somewhere closer to High Hrothgar. After about a day’s journey, he accidentally stumbled on a bandit camp. They attacked without question, so he defended himself. As he faced the final bandit, the strange hunger that had been eating at him for days came to a head. When he killed the bandit, his vision went red, and he fed on him, becoming a fully fledged vampire himself.

Nonni was initially horrified. He’d just gone into all of this intending to keep his head down and just avoid the Thalmor for the rest of his days, but now he was some dragon magnet undead bloodsucker. Worse, he remembered that he’d been hearing rumors of vampire hunters in town recently, so he had even more need than ever to keep his head down.

Still, the dragons were attacking, and he wouldn’t be able to get a moment of peace to figure out his new situation until something was done about that. So he continued to Whiterun, and took a carriage to Windhelm, which seemed to be closest to High Hrothgar on his map.

Outside of Windhelm another dragon attacked. Backed into a corner, weak to fire, and badly hurt, Nonni fought back with everything he had. In a moment of desperation he was forced to use the blade he’d found earlier in a last ditch effort to save himself. He managed to slay the dragon with the Oathblade, and limped his way into Windhelm to rest.

He made his way to High Hrothgar, and began his training as the Greybeards insisted. Then he went to procure the horn at their request, and instead found nothing at the end of the path, only a letter leading him back to Riverwood.

Here he met Delphine, whose connection to the blade he immediately suspected given the armor she donned. He decided to play along for now, to join her in going the Kynsgrove and seeing the dragon burial mound for himself.

There he witnessed Alduin resurrecting a dragon, and was forced once again to play the role of dragon slayer. This earned Delphine’s trust, and she confirmed Nonni’s suspicions that she was one of the few remaining members of the Blades.

Nonni was not keen to help infiltrate the Thalmor Embassy. He doubted that the Thalmor were behind the dragon’s returning, although he didn’t doubt they might be keeping tabs on whoever or whatever the real cause was. Regardless, he had been avoiding them for so long, he feared placing himself right into their hands more than anything else. He finally convinced himself that between the time in hiding, the tattoos he’d had added to his face to make himself harder to recognize, and the changes becoming a vampire had made to his skin and eyes, surely he wouldn’t be recognized even if by some coincidence someone he’d once known was there.

So he handed off his best equipment (and a few bottles of resist fire) to Malborn and dressed in some gaudy Skyrim finery.

When the Thalmor ambassador singled him out to speak to almost immediately he was certain he’d been caught, but between answering her questions in a circular manner and Malborn interrupting and redirecting her attention, he managed to avoid such a confrontation. He egged on a drunkard to make a scene and get attention off of him, then slipped into the back with Malborn.

He immediately snuck up on and took out a Thalmor soldier, swapping clothes with him in an attempt to blend in and to mask his features. This worked part of the way, but as he approached his goal a mage stopped him. The Thalmor recognized him, he raised the alarm that a traitor was in their midst, and a fight ensued.

He managed to slip in and steal a number of papers that proved the Thalmor don’t know who caused the dragon uprising (as well as some incriminating documents about Ulfric Stormcloak that he intends to hold onto for later). After learning about Esbern and freeing the Thalmor’s prisoner, Nonni made to escape. Unfortunately the Thalmor has caught on that Malborn had let him in. Malborn came running into the room chased by mages. Nonni tried to kill them before they could kill Malborn, but he wasn’t strong enough, and only managed to escape with the released prisoner.

After that he’s continued with the main story with few other incidents at the moment. After freeing Esbern from Riften and meeting up with Delphine he agreed to go with them to Sky Haven Temple—he’s less of a reluctant hero now that he knows the literal apocalypse is going to happen if he runs and the Thalmor know he’s here anyways so hiding’s not such an option anymore. On their way they ran into two dragons. One was named and swooped out of nowhere. The other was a blood dragon and was another desperate and close fight that he only survived with Delphine and Esbern’s assistance.

And that’s Nonni’s adventures so far. Most recently he met Paarthurnax, he respects the dragon for his choice to side against his own kind when he saw something was wrong. He has lost any respect he has for the Greybeards however, after Arngeir decided that helping the Dragonborn to destroy Alduin would be a worse sin than letting the world die. We’ll see where those feelings go later. Somewhere along the way he also found Merida’s beacon and accidentally became her champion.

He’s too scared of being smote on the spot to tell her that he’s a vampire and that her making him her champion of light is incredibly ironic.

#long post #sorry I’m on mobile and can’t put a read more #skyrim #skyrim oc #Nonni the Altmer

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