#would sure solve your “’if the humans find out we sparkle in the sun they’re going to tell the church’ problem | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

contemplativepancakes · 3 years

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enough to drive a man mad

~7k geraskier fake dating, because that is what this fandom needs. read on ao3 here!

Jaskier smells anxious. He reeked of apprehension all of yesterday, not to mention the fact that he hasn’t been able to sit still or stop tapping his foot on the wooden floorboards this morning.

It’s grating on Geralt’s last nerve.

“What, Jaskier?” he finally growls.

Jaskier jumps, almost falling out of his chair from where he sits tapping his quill idly in his notebook.

“What?”

“What has you so worked up?”

Jaskier looks Geralt in the eyes before glancing away again. He clears his throat. “Nothing.”

Geralt grunts.

“Oh, don’t sound so unconvinced,” Jaskier complains.

Geralt rolls his eyes, turning his back to Jaskier to finish settling all of his things into his pack. He wraps the glass jars carefully and tucks them between Jaskier’s shirts, so they don’t break. “If nothing is wrong, you’re ready to go then, right?”

Jaskier grumbles, but he tucks his notebook away and gets to his feet.

They make it about three hours before Jaskier finally broaches the subject.

“So, Geralt,” he starts. “Dear friend of mine.”

Geralt doesn’t even bother to look back at him. Nothing good can come with this as a conversation starter.

“Have I ever told you about my parents?”

“No.”

Jaskier sighs. “I suppose not. Well, they’ve written to me. They want me to visit.”

Geralt thinks back to the letter an innkeeper had handed to Jaskier a few weeks ago, the one that made him eerily quiet the rest of the night and that he had clammed up about when Geralt questioned him. Jaskier was perky and practically completely back to normal the next morning, so Geralt had almost forgotten about it. Apparently, Jaskier had not done the same.

“Hmm.”

“Yes, yes, I know. Dreadfully inconvenient for you. What will you do without your loyal companion?”

Geralt frowns. He hadn’t even thought about that, just registered the smell of unhappiness coming off of Jaskier at the thought of his parents. Jaskier is rather helpful, though. He’s never afraid to step in the middle of pay negotiations, inevitably getting Geralt more coin, and he’s certain Jaskier has stopped them from getting kicked out of at least three towns after Geralt had stumbled back to the inn covered in viscera.

“Do you want to visit them?”

Jaskier trips over his feet, and Geralt dutifully looks away, pretending not to have noticed. “Not particularly. But I have to.”

Geralt won’t pretend to understand how a typical human family works, so he just accepts Jaskier’s words at face value. He’s never felt obliged to return to Kaer Morhen every winter; it’s something he looks forward to—to seeing his patchwork family. But Jaskier deliberately never speaks of his family, and gets twitchy every time anyone brings them up, so Geralt had accepted it as one of Jaskier’s many quirks and moved on.

“Hmm. Well, I can travel with you there, at least. I’m sure there will be contracts in the area somewhere.”

Jaskier flushes red. “I was...I was actually hoping you would come with me.”

“What? I’m sure that’s not what your parents had in mind when they wanted you to visit. They wouldn’t want to meet me .”

“Well, they said it’s unbecoming for someone of my age to be a bachelor. And, so I. I, um.” Jaskier scratches the back of his neck. “I told them I wasn’t. And I maybe sort of perhaps insinuated we were together.”

Geralt can feel a stress headache brewing.

Marilla looks down at the letter in shock.

Dear Mother,

I fear I am not quite as much of a bachelor as you suppose. Have you heard any of my songs? I have gone and fallen head first into my muse. Typical, foolish me, but I’ve never been happier. We’ll visit soon.

Julian

She doesn’t like to think about Julian’s songs, about how he couldn’t even keep the name she had given him. She thrusts the letter to her husband. “He’s coming to visit,” she says in disbelief. “When’s the last time we saw him?”

Ethbert considers this as he reads the letter. “At least five years.”

“And I can’t believe he hasn’t spoken of this ‘muse’ any sooner. I’m not sure I believe him.”

Ethbert gave Marilla a placating smile. “He’s probably just ashamed he hasn’t found himself a wife yet. We’ll find out when he comes, doubtless with an excuse about where his beloved is.”

Marilla sniffs. “You’re right.”

Nell looks down at the scene in the kitchen with wide eyes from her spot crouched down between the banisters at the top of the stairs. Her brother? With a wife? She could scarcely imagine it. She thinks back to the last time Julian was here, the way he had boasted to her about his conquests for hours, away from the prying ears of their parents.

Well, surely if he had someone, he’d have talked about her in his songs. She resolves to get her hands on some of his music. She’ll solve this mystery before Julian even gets here.

“The first thing to know is that they’re awful,” Jaskier says, ticking down one of his fingers as he walks along beside Roach, seemingly uncaring of the dust that’s drifting up from her hooves and onto his doublet. “Well, except for my sister. Be nice to my sister, please, Geralt.”

“I’m nice to everyone.”

Jaskier stifles a laugh. “Mm. Be extra nice to her, then.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“You need to loosen up, too. They’re never going to think we’re together when you look all...constipated like that.”

Geralt huffs.

“You’re lucky opposites attract,” Jaskier says, before dragging a hand down his face. “This is never going to work, is it?”

Nell squints at the lyrics spread out before her. This doesn’t sound very romantic to her at all. Maybe a breakup song? She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss , Nell hums. She can’t help but notice there’s three different people the song is talking about, though. Odd. She shakes her head and moves onto the next song.

This one is just a ditty, so Nell turns the page to see a song about the witcher Jaskier travels with. And then another, and another. Is he all Julian writes about? She expected to see love songs, not this nonsense. She goes through more of his catalogue, briefly regretting spending her allowance on the songbook, but she supposes it supports her brother, after all.

She’ll just have to see what she can wheedle out of him while he’s here.

Finally, after flipping through no less than four more songs about the witcher, she lands on one titled “The Eternal Flame.”

Interesting.

Around your house, now white from frost

Sparkles ice on pond and marsh

Your longing eyes grieve what is lost

But naught can change this parting harsh

Spring will return, on the road the rain will fall

Hearts will be warmed by the heat of the sun

It must be thus, for fire still smolders in us all

An eternal fire, hope for each one

There, Nell can read some romance in. She rubs the ends of her hair together in thought. This one song certainly isn’t enough proof that Julian has actually found a wife. More like he’s still pining over some old flame. It doesn’t seem like he’s written very many good love songs at all.

Nell rolls her eyes, thinking back to all the raunchy songs in his catalogue. Typical.

There’s the squeak of the door opening downstairs, and Nell hastily slams the book shut and hides it under her mattress. She doesn’t want Julian seeing and getting a bigger head, after all.

She straightens her dress and runs down the steps, eager to see if Julian’s by himself, which is her guess. She comes to a skidding halt when she sees who is with him.

Oh.

She supposes he does write love songs, after all.

Geralt shifts uncomfortably from the scrutiny Jaskier’s family is giving him. He wraps an arm around Jaskier’s shoulder, hoping he doesn’t look as awkward as he feels. He looks over to Jaskier for help, and Jaskier shrugs off his arm and takes Geralt by the hand, leading him forward to meet them.

“Mother, Father, this is Geralt. Nell, this is a very large, scary witcher who will eat you up if you don’t behave.”

Geralt frowns. He thought Jaskier told him to be extra nice to his sister?

Nell laughs, a delightful, tinkling thing that reminds him of Jaskier’s. “He’s going to like me better than you by the time he leaves.”

Geralt looks back to Jaskier, only to see him sticking his tongue out at her. Right. Their relationship is definitely more antagonistic than Jaskier had prepared him for, so Geralt is glad he had Lambert to prepare him for these things.

He’s not sure his interactions with Lambert would be appropriate to apply to Jaskier’s sister, though, so Geralt will let Jaskier handle the ribbing.

“Nice to meet you,” Geralt finally says. “Jaskier’s told me a lot about you.”

Which, of course, is a lie, but Geralt knows that’s the polite thing to say.

“He’s never even mentioned me, has he?”

When Geralt waffles, Nell sniffs dramatically and casts Jaskier a betrayed look.

Jaskier shoots that look right back to Geralt, and Geralt is so impossibly out of his depth right now. “Hmm.”

“Now look what you’ve done, you’ve made him regret agreeing to meet you in the first place!” Jaskier cries.

“That’s quite enough, Julian,” Jaskier’s mother cuts in, and—Julian?

He shoots Jaskier a puzzled look. Obviously, there was a little more he should have told Geralt before they came here.

“Well, I’m afraid we are absolutely knackered; we’ve been riding all day. I’m going to head upstairs…”

Geralt shoots him a look.

“I mean, we are going to head out to the stables and make sure that Geralt’s very polite mare is taken care of.”

“We have someone—”

“No, no, Geralt is very picky about who cares for his horse.”

With that, Jaskier drags Geralt out of the house and to the barn. “I thought the goal was for them to like me?” Geralt asks.

Jaskier snorts. “Gods, no. The goal is to have them believe that we’re in a relationship, and they would never believe I would choose anyone they actually liked .”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “Honestly, Geralt. It’ll be fine. Just stop acting like you’re terrified of me every time I touch you. Maybe we should practice.”

Jaskier gets a gleam in his eye as he darts a glance back to the house, and then his very warm mouth is on Geralt’s. Geralt’s surprised for a second before he relaxes and kisses Jaskier back. He’ll show Jaskier he’s not terrified of him. Geralt would scoff if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied.

Geralt brings one hand up to rest on Jaskier’s jaw and one to wind through his soft hair. Geralt strokes his thumb over Jaskier’s cheekbone, and Jaskier melts against him, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s waist and tugging him closer.

“What was that for?” Geralt says, trying to keep his breathing even after they pull away.

Jaskier peers around him and looks back up at the house. “Well, they were watching through the window. Figured we’d give them a show. Alas.”

Jaskier turns and heads to the stables. Geralt trails behind him, surreptitiously bringing a hand up to his medallion to make sure it’s not vibrating.

He is in way over his head.

Nell stares at them with wide eyes from her bedroom window. She had...not exactly doubted them when Julian showed up with his witcher in tow, but she hadn’t exactly believed them, either. Who could let Julian trail around after them for years and not get sick of him?

If she hadn’t witnessed them kissing with her own two eyes, she never would have believed it. She pulls the book out from under the mattress and looks at the songs again, this time with a more critical eye. She can’t believe she didn’t see it before. Especially “Her Sweet Kiss.” She’d never admit it to Julian, but she’s glad he won over whoever this her is. He looks happy, in a way that he never did while he was here.

Her mother calls for her, so Nell sighs and puts away the book. She runs down the stairs. “Yes?”

“I need help with supper.”

Nell sets the table, noting they’re using the fancy silverware, which is a surprise, because her mother has never taken a particular interest of what Julian thinks of her before this, so this is an interesting time to start. She’s sure their meal is going to be a very uncomfortable affair. Well, not for her, unless it starts to become painful to hold her laughter in.

She can’t wait.

She’s just finishing arranging the cutlery when her mother turns back to her. “Can you believe Julian? I knew witchers were for hire, but I didn’t think their services extended to...this.”

Nell barely holds back a snort.

Jaskier looks over to Geralt and suppresses a sigh. He had just planted a hand on Geralt’s thigh, and he’s sure his parents think that he just stabbed Geralt, from his reaction. He scoots his chair closer over to Geralt and drapes an arm over his shoulders. “Relax,” he whispers into Geralt’s ear.

Geralt does, marginally, but Jaskier can still see the doubt on his parent’s faces.

Jaskier’s father clears his throat. “So, Geralt, um. I suppose we know what you do, but, um. Um.”

“Honestly, haven’t you heard any of my songs? They are all the very true accounts of what Geralt gets up to,” Jaskier butts in.

Geralt takes a gulp of wine from his goblet to avoid commenting.

Jaskier notices, and elbows him in the ribs. “Geralt loves my songs, right?”

Jaskier’s parents are staring right at him, and it’s more than a little unnerving. “Right. They’re...very romantic.”

Jaskier’s grip around Geralt’s shoulders tightens. “Thank you, darling.”

Geralt is sure Vesemir once told him witchers can’t blush, but his face feels hot all of a sudden, and everyone is looking at him expectantly.

Geralt takes another drink.

Jaskier shakes his head. “Geralt’s been so nervous about meeting all of you. The poor dear is overwhelmed.”

Geralt shoots him a glare, before softening the look into something more akin to convincing Jaskier’s parents that they’re very happily together. Jaskier hastily bolts down the rest of his dinner before he drags Geralt up the stairs and to his room.

He shuts the door behind them, leaning against and tugging at his hair. “There’s no way they’re buying this,” he moans.

“I thought I was being rather convincing.”

The corner of Geralt’s lips twitch, so Jaskier hits him with a pillow. “You did not, you brute! Geralt if you’re doing this on purpose—”

“Hey, hey,” Geralt soothes. “I’m not. It’s just. Acting is not exactly on my list of talents.”

Jaskier crosses his arms and huffs. Geralt tugs him over to the bed and makes him sit down, plopping beside him. “What can I do?”

Jaskier throws his arm over his eyes and lays back, rather over dramatically, if you ask Geralt. “Nothi—Well, actually.”

Geralt does not like the sound of that. He was offering more to be nice than anything.

“We have to have sex.”

Geralt’s mouth goes dry. “What?”

Jaskier scoffs. “This is no time to act the blushing virgin, Geralt,” he says, before his hands are on Geralt’s clothes, tugging them and unbuttoning.

Geralt jerks back, but Jaskier is already done. “There. Nice and dishevelled.”

Geralt gapes at him for a moment, giving Jaskier the opportunity to muss his hair. Geralt growls.

“I know, I know. That took you hours to accomplish.”

Geralt catches his wrist. “Just, hold on a second. What are we doing?”

“We have to consummate my childhood bed, Geralt,” Jaskier says, completely seriously. “Or at least make my parents think we did.”

Jaskier starts moving his hips on the bed, making the headboard brush up against the wall with every gyration. “Mmm, fuck, Geralt, right there!” he cries.

“ Jaskier!” Geralt hisses, but Jaskier pays him no mind.

“You feel so good, darling!” He throws Geralt a wink, and Geralt tries not to combust.

Jaskier undoes three of the buttons of his doublet, revealing a thicket of chest hair. Geralt casts his eyes to the ceiling. Gods help him. “You know, you don’t have to be so stoic all the time, dear heart. You can let me hear you,” Jaskier says, pointedly prodding at Geralt.

Geralt shakes his head furiously. This is not what he agreed to.

Jaskier gives Geralt a put on sigh before clearing his throat quietly. “Oh, Jaskier,” he says in a deep voice.

“That doesn’t even sound like me,” Geralt whispers furiously.

Jaskier just arches an eyebrow, and Geralt knows that’s a challenge. He swings his leg over Jaskier, straddling him and trying to ignore both of their pounding hearts. It’s the heat of carrying out their plan, Geralt is sure, and not at all Jaskier’s proximity.

Geralt rocks the bed back and forth, making the headboard slam against the wall now.

Gearlt gives a half hearted moan, and Jaskier gives him a glare. “You’re making me sound like a terrible lover who’s left you horribly unfulfilled!” he hisses.

Geralt rolls his eyes and gives a more enthusiastic moan this time. Geralt begrudgingly keeps this up for a few more minutes before he grunts and clambers off of Jaskier. “A little quick to the finish line?” Jaskier asks, and Geralt shoots him a rude hand gesture.

Jaskier gasps in mock offense. “Why don’t you go get me a wash rag?” he suggests.

Geralt glares at him; this is taking the charade much too far, if you ask Geralt, but he follows Jaskier’s direction to the bathroom—where Jaskier’s mother is standing. Geralt suddenly becomes conscious of what a mess he must look like right now, thanks to Jaskier. “Hello again,” Marilla says.

Geralt grunts and nods to her, before remembering he should probably say something, anything. “Hi.”

Geralt grabs a washcloth and flees.

When he gets back to Jaskier, Jaskier is sitting on the bed with his knees drawn up to his chest, scribbling away in his notebook, the inkwell balancing precariously on the mattress. He still has his buttons undone, and Geralt curses himself for even noticing.

“Did you run into anyone?” Jaskier asks.

Geralt’s disgruntled expression must be answer enough, because Jaskier rubs his hands together in delight. “Excellent.”

Marilla scurries back to her room, completely scandalized. She can’t believe they would...defile her home like this. It’s bad enough that Julian couldn’t choose anyone they suggested for himself, and now he brings home a witcher ? He’s trying to make her gray even faster.

She shuts the bedroom door behind her and looks to Ethbert. Her expression must linger on her face, because he asks her, “What?”

“They—” She makes a floppy hand gesture.

“Are you sure? What would a witcher want with Julian? There’s something not right about this.”

Marilla fans herself. “I know. They’re not even wed. It’s impropriety, is what it is.”

Ethbert squints doubtfully.

Geralt is not a morning person. When Jaskier first discovered this, he was puzzled. Geralt is the only person who dictates his schedule, so no one would yell at him if he chose to sleep until midday.

The more Jaskier thinks about it, though, the more it makes sense. Of course Geralt would wake up at the asscrack of dawn; he probably thinks of it as a punishment or some other such self loathing nonsense.

It’s certainly more of a punishment for Jaskier, because he’s the one that has to put up with Geralt’s bearish attitude every morning.

Geralt blinks awake and squints at the rising sun like it’s personally offended him, and Jaskier closes his eyes, not wanting to be caught staring.

“Morning,” Geralt grates out.

Jaskier’s lips twist into a wry smile. “Good morning.”

“I know you weren’t asleep,” Geralt says, sounding annoyed. “You could have woken me up.”

“Mm. And deal with a grumpy witcher first thing in the morning? I don’t think so.”

Geralt scoffs. “I’m not grumpy.”

“Right.”

Geralt swings his legs out of the bed and begins getting dressed. Jaskier stretches into the warmth Geralt left behind, tugging the blankets up over him.

What? He never said he was a morning person, either. “Where are you going?”

“Into town.”

“For what? Do you need things for potions? I’ll go with you.”

“No, no, I’m just going to see if there’s any contracts; you stay here.”

Jaskier gives a sly grin. “Does my family make you nervous?”

“ No .”

“Hmm,” Jaskier says.

“Shut up.”

“Well, don’t go gallivanting off without telling me where. You know I worry.”

Geralt rolls his eyes. “No need.”

Jaskier adopts a high pitched voice. “Why, thank you, Jaskier, my dearest friend. I’m so touched to know someone is looking out for me.”

“It’s pretty sad if you have to imagine someone to be your friend.”

Jaskier splutters as Geralt walks out of the room, a smile tugging at his lips.

Jaskier sighs as the door shuts behind him, wanting to bundle himself back in the blankets and Geralt’s scent, but he resists the urge and stumbles out of bed to pull on his clothes.

He makes it down the stairs and to the kitchen, picking up a bowl of eggs and whisking them, the need to be helpful overriding his desire to collapse in a chair and go back to sleep.

“Good morning, Julian,” his mother says stiffly. “Where’s your beau?”

Jaskier lets himself smile at the image of Geralt’s reaction to being heard of himself referred to as Jaskier’s beau .

“He’s out looking for a contract. He’ll be back for lunch, I’m sure.”

He gives his mother a bright grin. He thinks he should have made Geralt suck a hickey on his neck, but, to be honest, he’s not sure if he could have beared that. Geralt had already been so unbearably close to Jaskier when he straddled him. Jaskier’s not sure what had possessed Geralt to do that, all the while expecting Jaskier to keep his hands to himself.

He’s not sure Geralt’s looked in a mirror anytime in the past fifty years because of the whole monster-staring-back-at-him thing (complete horse shit, in Jaskier’s humble opinion, not that Geralt cares to listen to it), but Jaskier is forced to look at him every day, and he suffers.

He suffers every time he trails behind Geralt atop Roach, watching the subtle shift of his back muscles as he rides, and he’s devastated when Geralt deems Roach too tired to carry him and leads her in his tight leather pants. If Geralt hadn’t been wearing just such a thing when Jaskier met him, Jaskier would be convinced Geralt does it just to personally spite Jaskier.

To doom him to look but not touch for the rest of his life. As such, he had never expected Geralt to actually agree to this whole charade. But, he did, and now here they are. Here they are, with Jaskier knowing exactly what Geralt tastes like (less onion than one would expect), but still having to not just kiss the blank looks Geralt likes to give him right off his face.

It’s enough to drive a man mad.

Geralt looks at the pitiful notice board and sighs. He tugs down the one prospect to examine it more closely. Something is stealing a farmer’s sheep. There’s a few possibilities for what it could be, ranging from minor nuisances to things that he shouldn’t even mention to Jaskier because he’ll nag at Geralt until he lets him tag along, and those are always the kind of jobs that Jaskier should be nowhere near.

Geralt’s not sure how someone with the survival instinct of a fly larva is still alive, especially when he insists on following Geralt around, but Geralt’s not going to let Jaskier get hurt on his watch.

Geralt pockets the notice and goes to talk to the farmer who set the contract, but he has very little useful information to tell Geralt. All he offers is that the sheep have been disappearing without a trace. Geralt walks the edges of the property and a bit into the woods, doing a cursory inspection for the carcasses, but he doesn’t find them, either.

Hmm.

Geralt turns and heads back to Jaskier.

Geralt’s acting out of sorts when he returns from town, so Jaskier tugs him aside. “What’s wrong?”

Geralt just grunts and shakes his head.

Jaskier sighs. Typical. “Weren’t there any contracts?”

“There were, just—I don’t know what it is. But I’m sure it will be fine.”

Geralt even tries to give him a bracing smile, and even though it looks more like a grimace, Jaskier knows it’s not good if Geralt has stooped to trying to comfort him.

Jaskier hums at him and leads him to the table where his family are waiting on them for lunch. Jaskier keeps a hand on Geralt’s knee, because he’s allowed to, at the moment.

He delights in watching Geralt make awkward conversation with Nell, but it seems like they’re quickly warming up to each other. Jaskier’s mouth goes dry at the thought of them teaming up on him. They would truly be a menace.

Jaskier’s mood is quickly soured when they finish eating and Geralt insists on heading back out.

“Shouldn’t you wait until the morning? You know, be well rested?”

Geralt shrugs. “It’s been taking the animals at night. Better chance of finding it if I go now.”

“Geralt, we’re not exactly short on coin right now. Why even go?”

“If I don’t take care of this, who will?” Geralt huffs. “This farmer’s livelihood is at risk.”

Jaskier grins. “Geralt, you unbearable softie. You make me look callous.”

Jaskier darts a glance over to his family, who are pretending not to watch them. He takes that as license to tug Geralt in for a chaste kiss. Geralt stiffens against him, and Jaskier is just about ready to pull away, before Geralt starts kissing him back. He makes it decidedly less chaste, and Jaskier puts a hand on his chest. He lets himself savor it for one, two, three seconds before he takes a step back.

“Geralt, there are children present!” he says in a scandalized tone, grinning at Nell.

She glares, and he shoots her a wink.

Geralt clears his throat, and Jaskier jerks his attention back to him. “Right. Well, if I’m not going to talk you out of it, be safe.”

“I always am.”

Ethbert watches as Julian paces back and forth as he waits for the witcher to return. “Sit down,” he says gruffly.

Julian looks at the clock, then out the window, completely ignoring him. Ethbert snorts. Good to know nothing’s changed, then.

“Surely it can’t take this long to murder one measly little thing,” Julian mutters.

“He’s fine,” Ethbert says. “It’d take a lot to overpower a witcher, right?”

Jaskier sits down in a huff, and Ethbert starts to wonder if maybe their relationship is less of a farce than he thought. It’s certainly an odd one, and he’s still clueless as to what they could possibly have in common, but Julian is painting a convincing picture right now, especially as he tugs his cloak off the hook and settles it around his shoulders.

“Where are you going?”

“To find him!”

Ethbert jerks out of his seat with a splutter. “You can’t be serious. You think you’re going to be able to handle whatever a witcher couldn’t?”

Julian pauses. “Well, no. He’s probably lying in a ditch somewhere, slowly bleeding to death. Oh gods, what if he’s out there bleeding to death?”

Julian becomes even more frantic and rushes out the door and to the stables.

Ethbert resigns himself to a long night.

Jaskier clambers onto one of the smaller mares. He doesn’t have the patience to go through the whole process of putting all the tack on, so he clings to the horse’s neck and prays he doesn’t fall off. He digs into her with his knees, and away they go.

Jaskier has no idea which way Geralt went, but there’s some fairly fresh hoof tracks in the wet dirt of the road, so he follows them and hopes they’re Roach’s. Eventually, they go off the road, and Jaskier is left to squint at trampled grass. He wonders if Geralt would be proud of his tracking abilities, and he smiles thinking about the inevitable jab. Jaskier would respond with something about how Geralt was no better than a dog sniffing the air, and all would be well.

But first, he has to find him. Jaskier slows the horse to a walk as the trail becomes fainter, squinting as he looks at the ground. He comes to an outcrop of rocks with an opening just big enough to go inside, and he dismounts his horse cautiously. He certainly doesn’t want to deal with whatever calls this place its home.

Jaskier notices blood, and his heart kicks up a notch. It’s a rust red color, so it’s not very recent. Jaskier follows the splatters, and as he goes, they get brighter and brighter, until Jaskier’s heart threatens to burst out of his chest with the panicked tap dance it’s doing.

It certainly doesn’t help matters when he finds Roach wandering through the woods by herself. “Where’s Geralt?” he asks, and she snorts at him helpfully.

Jaskier casts a look at the blood glistening under the leaves underfoot and knows Geralt has to be close. Roach gives an agitated whinny before she turns and trots off, and Jaskier rushes after her.

In the end, Geralt’s not all that far away. Jaskier sees his hair before he sees anything else, and then he’s sprinting over to him with little thought for anything else. Jaskier drops to his knees beside Geralt. He looks paler than normal, even though Jaskier hadn’t known that was possible

There’s so much blood, and he’s not moving. Jaskier sucks in a breath. “Geralt? Geralt?” he asks, his voice getting louder and more panicked. “Geralt?”

Jaskier resists the urge to shake him and jostle whatever injuries he has, but there’s bile rising in his throat, and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do—

His eyes latch on to the infinitesimal rise of Geralt’s chest, and the pressure on his own suddenly lifts. He shuts his eyes for a moment. Geralt isn’t dead, and he can work with that.

Jaskier takes a closer look at Geralt and finds there’s a chunk missing from his side. It’s still bleeding freely, and Jaskier tries to resist the urge to be sick. He works Geralt free of his armor with shaky hands, so he can take a closer look.

Geralt moans and starts to stir, and Jaskier plants his hands on Geralt’s chest. “Just stay still; you’re going to be fine.”

“Jask?” Geralt slurs.

“Yes, yes, it’s me, and you know I’m far too stubborn to let you die.”

“My pack—”

Jaskier could slap himself for not thinking of that. “Right. Um, your potions.”

He whistles for Roach, and she approaches skittishly. Jaskier glances back down at Geralt, and his eyes are slipping shut. Jaskier tightens his grip on Geralt’s shoulder. “Geralt! You have to stay awake. Do you hear me?”

Geralt murmurs something Jaskier doesn’t quite catch, but his eyes open wider. Geralt’s pupils are so dilated, there’s barely a ring of yellow left around the outsides. Jaskier clambers up to look through Roach’s saddlebags, and his heart clenches when Geralt’s hand comes up to clutch at him as he moves away. “I’m not going anywhere,” he soothes.

He rustles through the saddlebag. “Fuck, Geralt, do you really need so many tiny bottles?”

Geralt gives him a weak chuckle before he hisses in pain.

“Which one do you need?” Jaskier asks, hoping Geralt is coherent enough that he’s not about to poison himself.

Jaskier pulls the pouch out of the saddle bag to show him the options. Geralt points to a few, and Jaskier eyes them doubtfully. He uncorks them anyway, sitting back down and settling Geralt’s head into his lap, helping him get the elixirs down, even when Geralt tries to bat his hands away.

“Save your energy for something useful, would you?” Jaskier tuts.

Jaskier prods at the wound in Geralt’s side, jerking his hand back when Geralt winces. “I forgot just how delicate you were, my apologies.”

Geralt barely manages a huff at that, and Jaskier furrows his brows in worry. He pulls Geralt’s shirt away from the wound, biting his lip as it pulls skin away. The wound looks a sickly green underneath all the blood, and Jaskier gasps a little. This is much worse than he thought.

“Geralt, it’s—Geralt?”

Geralt’s eyes have slipped shut, and Jaskier scrabbles at him, trying to make him wake up again, but he stays stubbornly still. The only thing giving Jaskier even a tiny glimmer of peace is that his chest is still rising and falling.

Tears are threatening to burst to Jaskier’s eyes, but he pushes them down and takes a deep breath. Somehow, he manages to heave Geralt across Roach. Roach snorts, disgruntled, and Jaskier runs a hand over her flank, trying to soothe her.

He looks around, but he has no idea where the mare he rode out here went. Oops. Hopefully it will wander back to his parent’s estate, but if not, well, will they even miss it?

Jaskier gathers Roach’s reins in his hand and leads her back towards town at a steady trot.

When Geralt comes to, he’s sweltering. He seems to be in a tomb of blankets, and the fire is roaring in the corner of the room. The room? He’s not quite sure how he got here; he would have expected to be lying on the cold ground instead of a soft and yielding bed. There’s even less lumps than he’s accustomed to.

He groans when he tries to move, and there’s a rustling from beside him. Geralt looks over to see Jaskier jerking from his chair to fuss over him. Jaskier’s eyes are red when he finally looks up.

“You promised me you were going to be safe, you terror,” Jaskier sniffs.

Geralt doesn’t have his wits about him enough yet to be dealing with crying bards. “Hmm.”

“Geralt, you—What was it?”

“A cockatrice. It got me with its tail; spit a little poison at me just for fun.”

Jaskier shakes his head. “You wouldn’t know fun if it bit you in the ass.”

This makes Geralt look even grumpier, if possible. Jaskier’s glad; he much prefers that to the slack expression Geralt had had while he was sleeping, and Jaskier was terrified he wouldn’t wake up.

Jaskier looks back at him, and Geralt can’t help himself when he reaches out to swipe away Jaskier’s tears with his thumb. “I’m fine,” he murmurs.

Geralt tosses the covers off himself so he can see his wound. It’s wrapped rather nicely, and when Geralt pokes at it, it feels like there’s some kind of poultice under the bandages. He raises his eyebrows at Jaskier, waiting for an explanation.

“A healer.”

Geralt’s surprised Jaskier found someone who would treat him; most people aren’t too keen on helping witchers.

“I yelled at him until he helped you,” Jaskier admits.

Geralt huffs a laugh. “I’m sure he was terrified.”

Jaskier finally cracks a grin. “Hey, you’re not the only scary one around here.”

Jaskier’s eyes drop to his hand, the one that was just on his face, and fuck, what was Geralt even thinking, but Jaskier reaches out and puts his hand over Geralt’s.

“I was worried,” he says softly. And then, sharper, “Don’t you dare say hmm .”

“Hmm.”

Geralt laughs, and there’s a warmth that settles in his chest when Jaskier does the same.

“You’re incorrigible,” Jaskier finally says.

There’s a lengthy silence, and when Geralt looks up, Jaskier is staring back at him.

“You got the trophy, right?”

“Geralt, my ears must be deceiving me. You cannot possibly be worried about that right now.”

“How else am I going to get paid? Last time I checked, you liked to eat. It needs done before something else drags the carcass away.”

Jaskier sighs and huffs and does everything short of stomping his feet before he gathers his cloak from the back of his chair. He glares at Geralt before he slams the door shut behind him.

Geralt rubs a shaky hand down his face.

He’s an idiot.

Jaskier grumbles to himself as he makes his way back out into the chilly night. His advances are obviously unwelcome, if this is the kind of punishment Geralt is doling out to him. Well, that’s fine. Jaskier will just let him bleed out next time.

Okay, he won’t, but that doesn’t mean he won’t consider it for a few seconds.

Stupid emotionally repressed witchers. He can’t say he wasn’t hoping something would happen with Geralt while they were here, but he should have known better.

Jaskier trudges all the way back to near where he found Geralt, pointedly not looking at the blood stain on the grass. He’s fine , he reminds himself. Jaskier pokes around for a little bit until he remembers the cave he had seen earlier and some vague knowledge that cockatrices prefer them.

He’s half expecting another to show up as he plucks some feathers and cuts off the head, for good measure. He almost gags as his knife goes roughly through the bone and sinew, but he manages to keep his supper. He looks around for any last creatures that are just waiting to murder him, but none appear.

He sighs and makes the trek back.

When he arrives, Geralt is sitting at the table, talking to his family, and Jaskier wonders for a moment if he should be concerned about a doppler. Nell is eating up every word Geralt says, and Jaskier hopes she has pried some good stories out of him that Jaskier can repurpose as songs later.

For now, he swings the cockatrice head up onto the table, and silence falls. “There you go, love,” he says cheerfully.

Geralt is looking back at him with a peculiar expression, and he rises from his chair stiffly. Jaskier rushes over to him to help, and Geralt reluctantly drapes an arm over his shoulder. Geralt leads him to the bathroom, and Jaskier makes sure to say loudly enough for the rest of his family to hear, “Well, if you needed help holding it you only had to ask.”

Geralt huffs in exasperation and shuts the door behind him. Jaskier raises his eyebrows in question. “Did you actually need help, or…” Jaskier trails off, and then Geralt’s lips are on his, warm and hungry, and anymore of Jaskier’s thoughts fly out of his brain.

His arms automatically come up to wrap around Geralt’s waist, until he registers that this is Geralt , and he puts a hand on his chest. “Um. Do you need your head checked out, as well? I thought it was your side, but I can go get the healer again.”

“I’m fine,” Geralt growls.

Jaskier’s not convinced Geralt hasn’t sustained a lasting brain injury, but then Geralt is saying, “I should have done this a long time ago,” and kissing him again.

What is Jaskier to do but kiss him back? It’d be terribly impolite not to, after all. When Geralt finally pulls away, Jaskier asks breathlessly, “What was that for?”

Geralt shrugs, considering. “You looked kind of hot carrying that cockatrice head. The trachea hanging down really got me going.”

Jaskier stares at him in disbelief for a beat before they both dissolve into laughter.

“You’re an idiot,” Jaskier says. “You’re my idiot.”

Ethbert looks across the table, where what his son is doing can only be called terrorizing his witcher, and harrumphs to himself. This is not exactly who he pictured Julian ending up with, to say the least.

He wonders the etiquette for having a son in law older than he is. He supposes he’s going to have to find out.

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geraskier #fanfiction #contemplative writing

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banashee · 4 years

Link

We can be whatever we want

The dim light of the rising sun floats through the cracks of the shutters early in the morning and Steve blinks against it. Waking up slowly is still a new sensation to him - as is waking up next to another person. It’s not uncomfortable, and he really could get used to this. He listens to the calm, even heartbeat coming from the smaller body next to him. Natasha has her back turned, cuddled up under the blankets and she’s slowly waking up.

Then, Steve nearly jumps out of his skin. There is a very sudden and ice cold touch on his bare skin, and it takes him a second to realize that Natasha is very much responsible for it. She put her freezing feet right on his lower back and hums happily as she wiggles closer, half asleep but clearly aware of what she’s doing.

Steve still curses out loud and then half heartedly complains,

“Urgh, your feet are cold.”

It gets met with a low chuckle from Nat.

“Yup, and you’re warm.” She’s completely unconcerned and even shoves her feet further up the back of his shirt in an attempt to get more warmth. He’s expected it by now, and despite himself, smiles lopsidedly.

“So you want to try and freeze me again?”

“No, then I’d have to find another human hot water bottle to keep me company. Too much effort.”

Natasha isn’t even trying to hide the smile creeping into her voice and then she turns around to wrap her arms around his middle and pushes her icy toes in between his legs instead - but he’s prepared this time. Steve happily pulls her closer, one arm firmly wrapped around her and messing up the back of her bright red hair, something she usually wouldn’t let anyone get away with.

They start the day lazy and comfortable, rolling around in bed. Then they hit the sparring mats together.

Neither of them shows the other any mercy, and about an hour later, they’re drenched in sweat and sporting brand new bruises. They share a shower where they get to more intimate and even more entertaining things than that and Steve can’t help but notice that apparently to them, beating the crap out of each other in the gym seems to count as foreplay these days. He also finds that he doesn’t mind that at all and doesn’t question what that says about either of them.

It’s much easier to just live in the moment and enjoy this - whatever it is - as long as it’ll last.

*+~

Steve has made himself comfortable in his own little corner down in the main lab.

He’s got a whole art studio upstairs in his apartment, because Tony is both over the top in anything and everything he does and very generous to the people around him. The room is large, full of light and equipped with giant windows and just about anything an artist could ever need. Just thinking about how expensive all of it must have been makes Steve's head spin, but he loves the studio and uses it frequently. The only thing it lacks is company though, so he’s often hanging out down in the lab, because both Tony and Bruce spend a lot of time there and the others come by frequently.

Today, Steve is working on a large painting of a nightly scenery, the New York Skyline in blues, purples and small yellow lights. It’s beautiful, and he loves that he can get lost in all the little details.

But it doesn't help that he keeps thinking about Natasha and whatever it is they have. They never put a label on it, and while there is a lot of trust and they’re comfortable around each other, he can’t help but think that it’s probably casual unless they agree to specify it otherwise. Which is a problem - he’s not sure how to bring this up to her. Just in case she doesn’t want something committed, which is entirely possible, with the lives they have. Romantic relationships don’t necessarily work out in a case like this, and it’s just easier to seek out the warmth and intimacy of another person at night just to be able to hold onto something without hoping for or expecting anything else from it.

Then again, romantic relationships are never guaranteed to work out. Steve feels out of his depth in this.

Blindly, he reaches for his coffee mug to drink a few sips. He makes a face at the aftertaste and loads up his brush with more paint while he’s listening with half an ear as Tony pokes Clint with his screwdriver, because he’s sitting with his ass on Tony’s desk while he’s fletching arrows. They bricker and complain like an old married couple. Clint pokes Tony in the armpit with the back of the arrow he's currently holding and the inventor complains endlessly as he throws a balled up, stained paper towel at his head in response. Because they're mature adults like that.

The two of them are a oddly perfect combination, and Steve (amongst other people) spent the longest time wondering if they would end up throwing hands or proposing marriage to each other by the end of the day - it is a pretty even tie most of the time.

There are backup protocols in place just in case they team up and go rogue together. That fact alone should be terrifying because Tony and Clint left to their own devices mean chaos and fiery destruction on a good day and it still baffles everyone how these two managed to actually start a healthy and loving relationship with each other. It’s hard to believe some days, especially when another screwdriver gets chucked through the air as they bricker on.

Steve doesn’t react to it, taking another sip of coffee - it makes him cringe again.

"Coffee tastes odd today." he muses, concentrating on another small and detailed part of his painting. It takes his mind off of things. Things like his growing not-so-casual-anymore feelings for Natasha which is really not something he wants to think about right now, hence why he's hanging out down here.

"Excuse you, my coffee is fucking great." Hawkeye grouches good naturedly from his spot on the desk, putting a feather on the shaft of his arrow in place without looking up.

Steve just shrugs, keeps drinking. It just gets worse and worse as time goes on and he says as much.

Tony turns, one eyebrow raised at him and then he bursts out laughing.

"Steve you giant baffoon, stop drinking the paint water."

"Wait, what?! “ he looks down into his mug. The coffee now looks suspiciously purple while the mug with the water and his paint brushes looks much, much cleaner. He sighs heavily.

"Goddammit."

"You have a purple mustache." Clint supplies helpfully and Steve runs a hand down his face.

"Great, that's just what I wanted to wear today."

"Impeccable taste as always."

Steve furiously wipes at his face with the corner of his shirt. But there is no pretense left at this point, anyway.

“Seriously tho, what’s up with you today? You’re not usually that much of a dork.”

“Thanks very much.” He quips back and then stops for a moment. After a beat of silence, he actually starts talking about the issue on his mind - Clint listens as he starts carving wood for another arrow, and nods along to what Steve is telling him. He’s Natashas best friend after all, so it’s not like he wouldn’t know. Everyone knows, if he’s honest. But he still keeps rambling on.

“Go talk to her. It’ll be fine.” is what Clint finally answers and yeah, if only it was that easy, Steve thinks. Or says out loud, because his mouth keeps lamenting without his permission, which is great.

“Talk to her.” Is all that Clint says, and he repeats himself three or four more times, interrupting Steve’s increasingly flustered rambling every single time. After that, Tony chimes in.

“Hey Steve, I have an idea.”

“Yes?”

Tony looks up with a flat look. “Go talk to her.”

“Why am I even talking to you?”

“We’re charming and sparkling company.”

“Nah, that can’t be it.”

“Seriously, go talk to her. This is between her and you, we can’t solve shit.”

Steve is annoyed because they’re right. But then, Tony looks down on whatever the hell he’s working on and says,

“Oh. Oops.”

That sends Clint scrambling off of the table, because “Oh. Oops.” is the very last thing you want to hear Tony Stark say in the labs. Ever.

Clint is grabbing Tony to pull him with him as he puts as much distance as possible between them and the table and Steve launches forward to put himself in between his friends and the small-ish explosion that occurs seconds later.

The three of them remain mostly unharmed, a bit of scorched hair and damaged pride to be pulled by the scruff like a naughty kitten aside.

“For fuck’s sake.”

Once again, Steve sighs heavily. He does that a lot around here.

“Steve?”

“Yes.”

“Talk to her.”

He glares, because once again, he’s annoyed that they’re right about this.

Goddamnit.

*+~

“Stop thinking so hard.” Natasha complains at night. She’s wrapped around him, comfortable and content, running one hand over his shoulder. If Steve had been under the impression it’s gone unnoticed, well, he’s dead wrong about that.

He’s about to say something stupid like “I’m not” or “I have no idea what you’re talking about” but this is Natasha, and she always notices. So the words that are actually coming out of his mouth are

“What are we?” he stops for a second before he continues. “I’m sorry, it’s just, we never really discussed any specifics and, well…” Steve can feel his face heating up. Way to go, Rogers.

Natasha hums in response, pushing herself away from him a little bit. Not much, just enough so they can look each other in the eye. She also keeps her hand on his arm when she answers, rubbing small circles with her thumb.

“We can be whatever we want. If you’d prefer to keep this casual, that’s okay with me. But if you’d like this to be more… Because I’d like that.”

She’s open with him, not hiding, not a single mask or distraction in place. Her green eyes are no longer sleepy, but they’re sparkling and beautiful and Steve could get lost in them. Her answer takes him by surprise, and so does her small smile at his facial expression that obviously gives him away. But he smiles back, and simply replies,

“Yes, I would like that very much.” Then, he asks, “Is it okay when I kiss you?” because while they’ve done much more than that before, it feels like this would still make it very much different.

Instead of answering, Natasha crosses the distance herself.

They hold onto each other, almost melting into each other. They stop kissing to catch some breath, and Steve gently tucks a lose strand of hair behind Natashas ear, keeping his hand there to slowly stroke her red curls. Both of them are probably smiling a sappy smile that no one else can see and when they finally fall asleep that night, they do so with a silent happiness about them.

In the morning, Steve wakes up to icy feet on his back once again. This time tho, he thinks he might as well get used to that, too, although it doesn’t stop him from complaining. It doesn’t stop Natasha from laughing and snuggling closer, either, so it's all good.

*+~

Prompt No. 58 – "Urgh. Your feet are cold" – "Yup, and you're warm."

#banashee writes #marvel fanfiction #romanogers #ironhawk

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emospritelet · 4 years

Text

Homecoming - chapter 17

95: “What do you want from the New Year?”

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] AO3 link

This is a moment of family calm before - something

It was a relief to step out of the salon into the corridor, and Ogilvy sighed as Doc closed the door behind him. They had left Lady Tremaine to drink her tea, having questioned her thoroughly about her experiences with what she called her ‘otherworldly visitor’. He fell into step beside Doc as they walked back towards the west wing where their rooms were situated.

“A strange tale,” said Doc, in a neutral tone.

“Indeed.” Ogilvy glanced around to make sure they weren’t being overheard. “Did you feel anything in the room?”

“Can’t say that I did. You?”

“No.” His mouth flattened. “We’ll need to check the bedroom. Perhaps we should take Alice; she’s displayed some sensitivity to spirits.”

“Agreed. I think we’ll wait until after the party, though.”

“Definitely.”

There was a moment of silence as they crossed the main landing.

“So,” said Doc, as soon as they were out of earshot of passing servants. “Langfell still stands.”

“Only to be expected, I suppose,” said Ogilvy, with a twist to his mouth, and Doc eyed him with sympathy.

“I realise it’s the last place either of us want to visit,” he said carefully. “But I think it might be useful.”

“No, I agree,” said Ogilvy, in a flat tone. “I think we should take Belle. You never know, being back in her old home might spark something.”

“Indeed.” Doc ran his hands over his waistcoat, patting his belly the way he did when he was thinking. “Shall we go now?”

“I was thinking we could go tomorrow, instead of joining the hunt,” said Ogilvy, and Doc nodded approvingly.

“I daresay that would be a more productive use of our time,” he said. “I’ll mention it to Thwaites. We can borrow some horses, should make the journey a little easier.”

He rubbed at his temple, and Ogilvy put a hand on his shoulder.

“Alright?”

“Damn visions,” grumbled Doc. “They seem to come more frequently now that Belle is back in our lives. Not saying they make any more sense, mind you.”

Ogilvy smiled, squeezing his shoulder.

“Well, it was always thus.”

“Indeed.” Doc patted his hand. “I think I’ll go and lie down, see what comes to me. Something tells me the evening is going to be a long one, and if anything momentous is going to happen, I’d like to have a little warning.”

They strode on, parting ways when they reached their rooms, and Ogilvy was unsurprised to find Hatter waiting for him. The man seemed to have a sixth sense about when he would be needed.

“Going out, sir?” he asked.

“I thought I’d join Alice and Miss Marchland as they dodge snowballs from the children,” he said.

Hatter nodded immediately, going to the wardrobe, and ten minutes later Ogilvy was walking around to the side of the house, where the sun still shone brightly on the thick layer of snow. He followed the sound of excited squeals and shouts, spying the small figures of Nicholas, Ava, and another young girl crisscrossing the snow-covered lawn. His greatcoat, hat, scarf and gloves kept the cold from him, but he still rubbed his hands together briskly, white breath billowing from him as he approached Belle and Alice and their snowman. They had found stones for the eyes, mouth and buttons, and there was a waxy evergreen leaf, which looked a little too fresh to have fallen naturally, in place of a cravat.

“Ladies,” he said, bowing his head a little. “I see you already have a gentleman to keep you company.”

“He doesn’t have much conversation, but he’s an awfully good listener,” said Alice, and giggled as he sent her a flat look. “How are you, Papa? Did you solve the mystery of Lady Tremaine’s ghosts?”

“Not yet,” he admitted. “Perhaps we’ll make some progress tomorrow. Doc has a headache, so he’s gone to lie down and rest.”

“I hope he’s well enough to attend the party this evening,” said Belle.

“Oh, I’m sure he will be,” said Ogilvy. “I’ll send Hatter to check on him later.”

A snowball whizzed past his ear, and he rolled his eyes as Alice and Belle chuckled.

“I see you’re wearing the children out,” he said. “That seems an excellent notion to me.”

“They’re certainly enjoying themselves,” said Belle, still patting the snowman’s head into shape. “I think it’s the first time Lucy has been able to run and play with children of her own age since she got here.”

“Ah, that’s the Mills girl, is it?” He glanced around. “Well, I’m glad they all made friends. It’s good for Nicholas and Ava to mix with other children, too.”

“Indeed it is,” said Alice briskly, dusting snow from her gloves. “But Lucy’s aim is terrible. I think I’ll go and show her how it’s done. Perhaps we can team up and beat the twins.”

She hurried off, calling out to the children as she ran, and Ogilvy chuckled as she dodged a snowball and stopped to scoop up snow and form her own missile. The children scattered like quail as she threw it, but the snowball caught Nicholas on the backside and made him shriek in excitement. Ogilvy shared a grin with Belle, and she dropped her eyes, still smiling as she smoothed the shoulders of the snowman.

“How went your conversation with Her Ladyship?” she asked, and Ogilvy wrinkled his nose.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “It’s not clear how much of her tale is her own impressionable nature exaggerating what might simply be the noises of an old house.”

“What did she describe?”

“A coldness in the room, and knocking in a pattern of three,” he said. “After that, some moaning. It started in September, then there seems to have been a lull before it began again at the end of October. She says it has happened at least once a week since then.”

“The same three knocks, and a moaning noise?”

“She says there’s now some evil laughter, as well.”

“Any corroborating evidence?” she asked briskly. “Points of view other than hers? Trusted servants, perhaps?”

Ogilvy tried to keep the smile from his face at her pointed questions. You always could see to the heart of the matter, my love. Gods, how I’ve missed your mind, your wit. Grounding me, keeping me focused.

“No one else appears to have heard the noises,” he said. “She mentioned the housekeeper thinking that the room was far colder than usual, but I’m not sure how much store we can set by that, or to what extent the servants humour their mistress’s notions.”

“Indeed,” agreed Belle. “I could certainly ask Ivy what she has found out from talking to the maids, though.”

“And I have no doubt Hatter will have an opinion, too,” he said. “The servants will speak more freely to them than to myself and Doc, I suspect. If what Lady Tremaine says is true, and the ‘visitations’ are targeting her specifically, there may be a more human motive behind it all.”

“Someone trying to scare her, you mean?” asked Belle. “Yes, I had wondered whether that could be the case. From what I’ve seen, she seems to have somewhat strained relationships with most of her husband’s family.”

Ogilvy hesitated, thumb feeling the band of his ring beneath the glove as he glanced at her.

“She did mention one other thing that Doc and I thought we might look into,” he said. “Stones were taken from the outer wall of a nearby castle. Langfell Castle. It’s a ruin now, apparently, but she said a noble family used to live there. I understand that they were named Beauchamp.”

He was watching carefully, or he wouldn’t have seen the tiny crease that appeared between her eyes.

“A ruined castle?” she said. “Why would that be relevant?”

“I’m not sure it is,” he admitted. “She told us a tale of a ghostly presence there, a rumour amongst the servants. Doc and I were planning to take horses up there tomorrow, while the others are hunting. Perhaps you’d like to accompany us.”

“Of course,” she said at once. “If we can be sure the children are settled.”

“Well, they seem to be getting along well with Miss Mills,” he said. “No doubt they can spend a few hours playing together while we look at the castle.”

“Her Ladyship said that the hunt will set off at eleven,” said Belle. “Perhaps we could see them off, and then leave ourselves.”

“Agreed,” he said. “I’ll inform Doc. I daresay he could use the exercise and some good cold air to blow away tonight’s excesses.”

Belle giggled a little, her eyes sparkling.

“I’m hoping that the party won’t go on too late,” she said. “Although I look forward to the dancing. Mrs Mills says that everyone of note in the area is attending.”

“I can seek refuge in the library, in that case,” he said with a grin.

“Escaping the chattering hordes?” she said teasingly. “Is this one of those occasions where only champagne will see you through?”

“It may even take some whisky,” he said solemnly, and she giggled again.

“I suspect I might choose the library over the ballroom, at some point,” she said. “Perhaps you’ll find me there.”

His grin widened.

“Then it will be a very pleasant evening,” he said. “A perfect way to welcome in the New Year.”

It was hard to tell, with her cheeks already pink from the cold, but he thought she was blushing a little. She bit her lip, eyes gleaming, and ducked her head a little, looking up at him through dark lashes.

“And what do you want from the New Year, Mr Ogilvy?” she said.

He could feel his smile grow soft, and his eyes caught and held hers.

“Peace,” he said quietly. “After all these years, I want peace.”

Belle’s breath seemed to catch, a sharp little inhalation as their eyes locked. He could feel their connection, their bond, the tug of her soul upon his. He prayed that she could feel it still, and he kept his gaze fixed on hers. Her breathing had quickened, he could hear it in the air, and he wanted to step closer, to touch her, to take her in his arms and taste her kiss. Instead, he let her see him, let her look into the depths of his soul, hoping that an errant spark from the blazing fire of his love would catch and burn inside her. Belle was staring, blue eyes wide and clear in the winter sunlight, but then she blinked, and the spell was broken. She looked a little flustered, teeth catching on her lower lip in that way she had, and he remained still, allowing her to collect herself, to gather her thoughts.

There was silence for a moment, but for the chirps of birds and shouts from the children. Belle glanced up, and he followed her gaze to where Alice and Lucy were squatting behind a snow-covered bush, each popping up in turn to throw a snowball at the twins before ducking back down again. Nicholas and Ava had amassed a large pile of snowballs and had taken refuge behind a tree.

“It appears the battle lines have been drawn,” Belle observed, her cheeks still flushed. “I’m not sure which side I favour.”

“Alice is a crack shot,” he said. “I’d wager on her winning, unless the twins do something sneaky. Which I wouldn’t put past them.”

As if she had heard him, Ava took advantage of Alice and Lucy being out of sight to race around behind them and pelt them with snowballs. Nicholas then joined in from the front of the bush, and Ogilvy and Belle burst out laughing at the resulting shrieks.

“At least they’ll all sleep well tonight,” remarked Belle.

“Hopefully well enough that they don’t come and disturb your rest,” he said, and she smiled.

“I don’t mind. As I said, it’s reassuring that they come to me for comfort.”

“I’d like to think the children are good judges of character,” he said, and she smiled.

“Is that why they came to you?”

“Oh, I can’t take credit for that,” he said. “Alice found them. They’re not the first I’ve fed and housed. Just the first to stay more than a few days.”

“What became of the others?” she asked and he gave her a wry smile.

“Made off with some of the silver and were no doubt too scared to come back.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “I’m sorry.”

Ogilvy waved a hand.

“Don’t be. Alice felt guilty after the first of them, but as I told her, lives are more important than possessions. Silver can easily be replaced.”

“That’s a very magnanimous attitude.”

“Well, as vulgar as it is to mention it, I’m very rich,” he said dryly. “I can afford to be magnanimous.”

She smiled at that, her face lighting up, and he felt his heart clench at her beauty. He glanced around at the children again, and saw that Alice was running over, cheeks pink with cold and breathless with excitement.

“The little buggers surrounded me!” she complained, and Ogilvy clicked his tongue.

“Really, Alice!”

“Sorry, Papa, but Ava hit me right in the bloody face!”

Her accent came through strongly, her years of fine living forgotten in her indignation, and he bit his lip to keep from smiling.

“And here I was thinking it would be the twins that taught Miss Mills some exciting new words,” he said.

Alice stuck out her tongue, then blushed and clapped her hands to her mouth. Ogilvy sighed, shaking his head.

“And she wants you to teach her etiquette, Miss Marchland,” he said. “I trust you’ll be staying with us for some time?”

Belle was trying to hide her own smile, and Ogilvy grinned.

“Well, I’ll leave you to enjoy the snow,” he said. “I’m afraid my feet are like blocks of ice already, and if I’m to survive this evening’s entertainment, I really ought to thaw them out.”

Alice leaned in to kiss his cheek, and he kissed her back, nodding to Belle with a smile as he touched his hat.

“Until later,” he said, and walked back to the house, snow squeaking and crunching under his feet.

Belle stayed out in the snow until the cold seeping into her grew too much to bear. Fortunately, the children appeared to be tiring, and so she called to them, leading them back to the house for a change of clothes and hot cocoa. She decided to eat luncheon in the nursery with them, and Alice joined them. Once the meal was over, she let them play together in the nursery, ending the day with a story before they ate their supper and got into their night things. Lucy seemed a far happier child than she had been that morning, and bid them a cheerful goodnight as her parents came to put her to bed.

She had missed Lady Ella’s arrival, and heard about it from Ivy when she came to help Belle dress. The best of her secondhand evening gowns had been aired and pressed, a pretty thing in a soft gold colour that she had wavered before buying, worried that it was too fine for someone in her position. Now that she was wearing it, she was glad she had decided to make the purchase. The warm gold was perfect with her colouring, and she watched as Ivy expertly twisted her hair up on top of her head and secured it with pins. Her neckline looked a little bare, with no jewellery to adorn it, but that couldn’t be helped. She had new gloves in ivory silk, and a pair of shoes that were already pinching her heels a little. The faint sounds of music were drifting up from below, and she could feel a tickle of nerves in her belly.

“Have the servants mentioned anything about Lady Tremaine and her ghosts?” asked Belle, and Ivy looked amused.

“All but the youngest kitchen maids think she’s hearing things, Miss,” she said. “Mrs Timpson didn’t say as much, but she didn’t disagree.”

“Have they seen or heard anything strange in the house?”

“Not that they mentioned to me, Miss Belle,” said Ivy. “They said the castle’s haunted, though. A ghost-witch, the cook said. Not sure they weren’t just trying to scare me with that one.”

“Her Ladyship told the Professor and Mr Ogilvy the same tale,” said Belle. “We’re going to visit the castle tomorrow.”

Ivy shivered.

“Rather you than me, Miss.”

“Oh, I’m looking forward to it,” said Belle. “I’m not saying that I believe there’s really a ghost there, of course, but it’s not every day one gets to see a ruined castle.”

“The Professor does like his old places,” said Ivy, pushing a last pin into place. “I’ve got some darning to do for Miss Alice, so I’ll sit in my room and keep warm, if it’s all the same to you.”

Belle giggled, and turned her head this way and that to admire the style that Ivy had created.

“Thank you, that’s wonderful,” she said. “I suppose I’d better go down.”

The music was louder out on the landing, the sounds of chatter and laughter drifting up to meet her as she clutched at the skirts of her gown with one gloved hand, the other resting on the banister. The entrance hall of Willowbrook Grange was brightly lit with what looked like hundreds of candles, with fresh greenery and red ribbons draped around the panelling and the scent of pine in the air. She imagined that it was the way the house had bid farewell to every year for the past two centuries.

Belle paused, her heart thumping, one hand clutching at the smooth marble of the banister as a strange feeling of déjà vu swept over her. For a moment it was as though she had been snatched back in time a hundred years earlier, and she half-expected to see gentlemen in black breeches and white silk stockings, and ladies in empire-line gowns with soft curls at their temples. A heavy sadness seemed to weigh upon her, an inexplicable, overwhelming grief, as though she was filled with tears.

“Miss Marchland?”

The Professor’s voice made the images in her mind vanish, and Belle took a deep breath, letting it out as she felt her heart slow and that terrible sadness drain out of her. He was dressed for the occasion, white tie and waistcoat beneath a black coat, but for the strangest of moments she had half-expected to see him wearing soft woollen felt and animal skins, with his face covered in swirling tattoos. I must be more tired than I thought. Imagining the Professor with a tattooed face! Whatever next?

“Are you well?” he asked anxiously, blinking at her behind his glasses, and she forced a smile, pushing the strange images from her mind.

“Quite well, thank you,” she said. “For a moment there I felt a little faint.”

“Then here, take my arm,” he said, offering it to her. “I daresay it’ll be a long night. Best to take things slow while one can.”

“Thank you.”

She put her arm through his and they made their way down the stairs, following the sounds of music and laughter.

“How are you?” asked Belle. “Mr Ogilvy said you were lying down with a headache.”

“Oh, I’m well, thank you, my dear.” He patted her hand comfortingly. “Tired from all the travel, I suspect. These things happen, but I’m well enough this evening.”

“I’m very glad to hear it.”

“I can’t see me dancing much,” he added. “Though perhaps you and I might take a turn, if there’s something not too energetic.”

“I should be delighted,” she said. “Only if you think you’re well enough, though. Don’t exert yourself on my account.”

“I’ll see how I feel once we’re in there,” he said, and smiled at her. “I think tonight might be a time to observe others from a quiet corner. And possibly have a glass of wine or two.”

Belle returned the smile.

“An appealing choice,” she said. “It’s been a long time since I attended an occasion like this. I’m not certain whether I should be excited or nervous.”

“Yes,” he said absently. “I know the feeling.”

They had reached the ballroom, and Belle could see beyond the tall double doors that the room was already busy with strangers in fine gowns and glittering jewels and starched white shirts. She took a deep breath, and the Professor glanced across at her, patting her hand again as he gave her an encouraging smile.

“Come now,” he said. “Let’s get a drink. With the New Year comes new opportunities, and new challenges. Something to be celebrated, not feared. Shall we?”

She returned his warm smile, feeling a little easier, and allowed him to lead her into the ballroom.

#sprite's festive fic fest #fic: homecoming #ogilvelle fic #ogilvelle #my fic #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #ladysibyl

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tgai-spock · 4 years

Text

Lines of ice from rolling waves and subtle villains

So we arrive on earth.

Chapter 2

Earth was chaos. Vulcan cities may have been overflowing with people who never learnt to mind their own business, where privacy was afforded only in relation to ones personal life and behind closed doors, but earth was chaos. Was anyone paying attention to anyone else? Both yes and no, several times loud rowdy men pointed at Spock and shouted:

“Oi! Vulcan,” why he had no idea. He’d never seen vulcans do this even by those who hated him for being a hybrid. Was it a statement of fact made by those who were mentally disabled, and was this gesture innocent, the same as a child pointing at a sky and saying, blue? Or was it something more violent? It was by the way, the sky, blue. Which was weird, there was little blue on vulcan, the seas were pink, the skies orange, although many of his clothes were blue, it was different seeing the colour where it naturally occurred. Other groups shouted at him too. Groups of girls huddled in groups would suddenly grow 3 times the size and point at him.

“Mother, at least on vulcan the vulcans pretend they aren’t talking about me. Send me back.” Spock said as they walked past another group. His mother, who was the only one he was shopping with looked more stressed than she had at his whining that the school was illogical, and that he was going to choose magic as a serious study course if he was forced to attend. That didn’t seem to bother his mother all that much, but it did make his father twitch in ways he hadn’t seen before, so he had put it down as one of his options along with science and computers. Of course his father wanted him to do computers, and math.

“Maybe we should get you a hat. You could wear my scarf for now” Amanda motioned as she went to untie her scarf.

“If I even begin to remotely look like a girl I’m going to kill myself” Spock said. Amanda sighed.

“Listen, don’t let their shouting bother you. In school that will completely disappear, it won’t be stood for at all. They have plenty of other aliens attend, they can’t have people just shouting out species randomly. I feel the people out today our rather dim, and drunk.”

Spock shrugged “fine. But only because I’ve been called worse and they’re validating the fact I’m vulcan.” Amanda sighed, she wished her son wouldn’t say things like this. He wished this wasn’t true for him.

“Can you read the email and remind me what we need to buy?” Amanda asked “I’ve forgotten.” Spock flicked up his lightweight tablet that he had been carrying in his hand non-stop for the past three days.

The Letter:

For first years attending the school each pupil must bring with them the following :

General Lessons:

Notebooks for each lesson, at least one new one per term.

General stationary, including pens, pencils, scissors, gluesticks, and celllotape.

Scientific Calculator

Protractor and compass

Shorts for p.e, unacceptable clothes include jorts. Shorts may be any colour but no patterns, pictures, characters, or 100 pictures of Nickolas Cages face may be on them.

Jogging bottoms/leggings (plain in colour, no patterns).

Suitable shirt or jumper for p.e (no slogans or patterns.)

Hairbands/bobbles

Tablet

If magic is a chosen subject they will need to bring:

Tarot cards

Tea Cup

Crystal ball

Spock hummed as he read through the items that were relevant to him, and they stopped outside a sports shop.

“Why does this say first years on it?” Spock asked.

“Oh, sometimes parents think their children will be better in a school that caters for children between the ages of 11-14 as they’re still very young. This is a school for older 15—17 year olds. Isn’t that good?”

“How?”

“You won’t be alone on your first day of school.” Amanda said.

“I guess” Spock said as he tried to work out if there were any benefits (currently Spock’s new slogan was ‘I guess’ but what it actually meant was ‘I have no idea how that makes sense’). They entered the sports shop.

The walked around aisles to the shorts and jogging bottom sections. Spock picked up plainest, blackest pair of each he could find.

“You can wear colour now.” Amanda encouraged.

“I don’t want to.”

“You could.”

“And yet I’m not going to.” Spock said and Amanda sighed, she could see this wasn’t going to be an argument she won. They walked past some hats and Amanda puts a black cap over his head, that was just large enough to go over his ears.

“Mother. I don’t need a hat.” Spock said.

“I don’t want you to hide who you are, but it would be nice for people to stop yelling at you. At least while we’re walking down the street.” Amanda says the words as though she is stabbing herself with each one.

“So a hat is going to solve this.”

“It might.. reduce the amount of shouts” Amanda reasoned “you don’t have to if you think thats worse.” Spock took off the black cap and picked up a sparkling silver hat, that was enough to make an elder vulcan faint on the spot. He put it on his head. Amanda grinned.

“You may have that hat.”

“Oh” Spock said, this hadn’t been what he wanted at all.

“Your father will hate it. And I’ll get you the black one too incase you suddenly find it too garish.” Amanda said.

“Okay but, I’m going to wear this non-stop as soon as I get back to vulcan. ” Spock said although he had absolutely no plans to do so, if the vulcan sun reflected of this hat there seemed to be a great possibility that it would kill someone else upon immediate impact.

“You can, I am allowing it.” Amanda said. Spock didn’t know how to react. His mothers logical boundaries must have disappeared into the atmosphere as soon as they arrived on earth.

The walked around to the sports bra section, and Amanda stopped suddenly. Spock almost bumped into her. Spock looked about awkwardly.

“Wrong section” he said.

“The thing about human school is you will be expected to do sports in front of other people.”

“And.”

“You can’t do that in a binder.”

“And yet I will.”

“No you won’t” Amanda said quietly but with such force it was enough to stop him in his tracks. She picks up a few.

“Do you want black or another colour.”

“Black.”

“Okay.”

“Now we need tarot cards, a tea-cup and a crystal ball.” Spock said looking down at his tablet despite having already memorised them.

“Do you want to try these on? Check they fit?” Amanda asked.

“No. Where are we going to get this stuff? Is this stuff even real?”

“Oh I looked up a little place around here” Amanda said and lead the way to the changing rooms.

“I said no” Spock said.

“I am saving you. You do not want to do p.e in clothes you’re not comfortable in, go try them on.”

“They’re the right size.”

“It’s completely different to finding out if their comfortable, go on.”

* * *

There was a lot of crystal balls in the shop display. Every inch his eyes looked on, sparkled with crystals. Crystals on necklaces, crystals on rings, crystals on pendulums - and a number of dragon ornaments.

“I should not have chosen magic” Spock sighs already defeated, Amanda laughs.

“Don’t think we don’t know you did that on purpose, your going through with it now” Amanda laughs pushing her son forward. They walk in through a dark blue door, and a bell above their heads rings as they enter.

“Good morning” a woman, with curly straw like hair behind a till greets them.

“Morning” Amanda replies “do you have any tarot cards?”

“I have a few selections available at the back” she points “would you like help choosing one?”

“No thank you” Amanda says and they walk in the direction the lady had pointed, around tables full of small gems with a ‘buy 4 get 1 free’ deal around them. The back of the store was different, slightly less gems appearing and more wooden rings. Much to Spock’s confusion, there were several wands and tall staffs with fancy curved wood tops.

“Why?” Spock asks pointing to a staff.

“Walking stick” says Amanda.

“Why?” Spock asks pointing to the wand.

“Religious practices. Your the one that choose magic, my aunt used to practice you know.”

“Is that the one married to the uncle who tried to kill me?” Spock asked.

Amanda sighed “well she’s divorced him now.”

“Erm” a voice from behind them, the shop keeper with wide eyes and a few extra packs of tarot cards in her arms said “I just remembered my shipment arrived this morning with some different tarot styles, so I thought I’d set them out for you.”

“Oh, thank you” Amanda said as the lady walked forwards and put down several extra packs. Amanda picked up one pack covered in cats, Spock picked up one that was black.

“You can take them out and have a look if you’d like, just remember to put them all back in.” The lady says and backs away, Amanda nods.

“This one” Spock says and chooses the cards that are all black except for the symbols outline on them, such as the 8 of swords which had 8 rainbow swords on it.

“Are you sure?” Amanda asks showing off the cats “I bet I could custom order one like this, but with sehlats instead.”

“I’m sure.” Spock said. Amanda shakes her head as they walk back over to the till.

“Well at least this has been quick. Excuse me do you have any crystal balls? The type you can see the future in.” Amanda asked

“Strange” the woman says “you’re the seventeenth person to ask me that.”

“There is a school nearby that has magic lessons, this is one of the requirements.” Amanda informs her.

“Oh” says the woman with her teeth as she looks up to her ceiling for a moment “yeah that would make sense. I thought everyone must just be like geeze, that Gandalf guys, pretty neat.”

Amanda nodded “I’m aware it’s a new school, is it new this year then, or is this a new shop?”

“Oh, I only brought the place a few months ago” the woman says as she places a large crystal on the bench “I guess I should check out the requirements that school has and get some in stock. Whats it called?”

“Saint Daimon’s" Amanda nodded.

“Nice, modern. Hey I’ll tell you what, if you buy this big crystal ball I’ll give you and your son a discount on any of these protection stones. Never hurts to have a little extra help” she says and she waves her hand over a collection of different sized gems, some smooth, some rough like rocks.

“Would you like a magical stone for protection?” Amanda asks Spock calmly. Spock picks up a hand size rough orange stone covered in blue lines. He chucks it up into the air and catches in neatly in his palm.

“Yes. This looks like a protection stone” Spock says and places it next to the tarot cards and crystal ball. Amanda eyes him suspiciously.

“I don’t like how you handled that at all.” Amanda says.

“You said I could have the protection stone.” Spock says with one raised eyebrow.

“Is that all I can help you with?” The woman asks.

“Yes thank you.”

“Card or print?”

“Print” Amanda says as the woman types up the cost into her till.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4]

[Chapter 5] [Chapter 6]

#spock #amanda grayson #star trek tos #star trek #trans!spock #trans spock #star trek aos #umm like almost cannon universe except the enterprise crew go to school together for a big lmao #linesoficefromrollingwavesandsubtlevillains2 #loifrwasv #ahh I'm going to regret the title at some point #the fact spocks trans probably won't appear for say another... 50 chapters. lmao i err.i've drafted some out buy I'm... I'm still not done #on the draft

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jokertrap-ran · 5 years

Photo

Dance with Devils -Charming Book- Vol.1 Kaginuki (Arlond) Rem アクマに囁かれ魅了されるCD 「Dance with Devils -Charming Book-」 Vol.1 レム

*Commissioned by @awomansplaceisshapinghistory, Thank you! *Spoiler free: Translations under cut

Commissions are still open!

Track 1:

Are you progressing well with your homework? Heh, my apologies. It seems like I’ve startled you. I’ve actually just arrived. I heard from Urie that you were studying really hard in the library. Still, that must be a really hard problem you’re working on for you to not notice me enter the library.

I see. How about you let me take a little look at it. Hmm...This one’s right. And this one’s correct too. It’s pretty well done. It should be easier to solve if you tweak the formulas and the method a little. Although, I must say that it might take a while to do so. How about trying it out? Very well. Then let’s first start off by revising the formula. In this case, we have Sin X+ Cosine X and we should use this formula first. Your face’s looking a little red. Are you alright there? Ah...So you’re embarrassed? Seems like you’re still unable to get used to me being this close even after all this time. There’s no need for you to apologize. It’s not like I’m lecturing you about it or anything. Besides, you’re very lovely when embarrassed. How about you let me see that face of yours even more clearly? You don’t have to try to escape. There’s no one else here other than us two. There’s nothing to be ashamed about at all.

Heh. Even the nape of your neck has turned red. You’re as sweet-smelling as ever. It tempts me to leave my mark right here. One that claims you as mine. Did I go a little too far for your comfort? Don’t be so mad. I wasn’t just teasing you about it. I was just acting part-ways to my desire as I really do find you lovable. It’s just that...I simply withdrew because the sound of my own heartbeat was starting to sound a little deafening to my own ears. That aside, I apologize for getting in the way of your homework. Now then, you should just continue on with it. Don’t mind me. I’ll teach you the formula I was talking about earlier another time. Hm? Did I break your concentration? At times like this, you should sing. When you do, the stars sparkle bright, the days get brighter and warmth seeps into every crevice it can possibly find! I do sing often whenever I feel down or on rather gloomy days of my own.

...I guess this method doesn’t seem to be suited for you after all. Then...How about reading a book? Shiki did say that we got a couple of shipments here recently and that there were a few rather interesting picks. If I remember correctly, he said that they were all slotted in at the bookshelves in the far back. I’ll guide you there. Here, your hand if you may.

That’s strange. They’re all books with nothing interesting to note at all. Exactly what does Shiki find interesting in these tomes? Hm? What’s the matter? You can’t open that book? Let me see. Well, there doesn’t seem to be a keyhole or anything from what I can see. But I certainly can’t open it either. Was this what Shiki meant when he said that there was a rather interesting book here?

Ngh! This presence! This is the feeling of magic...It can’t be! Is this a magic book!? It flipped open of its own accord! This magic book has a consciousness of its own!? I was tricked! This is bad!

Track 2:

...Ngh...Where am I…? Are you alright!? I see that you’ve awoken. Are you hurt? Do you feel unwell anywhere at all? Haa, thank god for that. If anything were to happen to you, I…

Since when did you change out into that dress? My attire has changed as well...Is this attire change also due to that magic book’s power? Still, I must say that these are pretty well made. It’s pretty much what one gets from a large amount of monetary investment to get it made. You look utterly stunning in a dress. This light sky blue colour really does bring out the colour of your skin. Right, I’d gladly take my time to admire your current state of...dress, but we’ll have to leave that for later. We’re currently in a strange situation that I’m unable to wrap my head around. We have to first gather some information and get a grasp on the situation we’re in.

As far as I can see, this room probably belongs to someone with a high social status. That, I can tell from the amount of branded, high quality things decorating this place. They’re all old...Antiques, maybe, but they’re all very well-maintained and well cared for. But that’s still not nearly enough information. Let’s get out of this room and see what else we can find outside. You should wait inside here just as a precaution. I’ll head on out alone first-

Wha-!? What’s this noise? Where is it coming from? Words are forming on the walls. “The Naked King”? Is this a title of sorts?

“Long, long ago, in a land far away, there lived a king who absolutely adored clothes. One day, the king bought a set of rare clothes that would seem to be transparent when fools laid their eyes upon it.

And this, the king decided to wear that set of precious, priceless clothes to the procession. He had decided to show and flaunt his new attire.”

Hm? The words on the wall have disappeared...That was certainly the work of magic. Could it be that...I see. I have just managed to finally get a grasp of the situation we’re currently in. We’re probably in a realm within the magic book itself. There’s no other reason for us being here otherwise.

Yes, that’s right. The magic book I picked up back in the library reacted to my own and activated because of that. In other words, this magic book is acting on its own accord. Which can be considered to be a pretty bad situation.

Ah. Speaking of “The Naked King”...Is that the title of that door there? If that’s so...Then that means that there are more doors like this within the magic book. Which means...We’re both currently within that very same story. Hm...Perhaps that’s why our attires were swapped out as well. That dress that seemed to be perfectly fitted and tailored for you...Just like one perfectly suited for a royalty of court. And...the king who supposedly stands tall beside you. That’s supposed to me, isn’t it? I’m still unsure of what the magic book’s motives are but I’m sure that we’ll be released from this realm so long as we manage to see this tale through.

We should be fine if we go along with the flow of things and wait for it all to conclude.

No, it’s just...Well, I’m not too familiar with human tales. Is “The Naked King” a popular story? I was made to dress like a king and am expected to play an active role in this tale?

Ngh!? You mean, I have to walk in front of my subjects stark naked in the end!? Me? Naked? There’s no way I can do that! No...But, that’s also one of the conditions I have to fulfil in order to get us out of this realm created by that book! But still, to parade around in my birthday suit in front of the masses...No, wait! But that means that I’ll be completely exposed- I can’t let her see me in that state, what if she gets mentally scarred by it!? But wait, that’s still rather fortunate-

...I’ve set my heart out. If it’s to protect you, I’ll become naked if that’s what it takes!!

Ah! I see...There’s also a possibility where we could search for other methods to get through this predicament just like you say. Heh. As expected of my lover indeed. Calm and collected even in times like this and coming to the most logical conclusions. Well then, let’s keep the option of me prancing around stark naked as our last resort. And till then...Let’s search for other ways to get through this by hook or by crook.

Track 3:

Our acting of being the Queen and King aside, I really never thought that things would end up this way. Indeed, I did enjoy myself as well. Although, I’d say that the reason for that is probably different from yours. The king and the king...I’m glad that we’re acting and being treated like a married couple. Heh, seems like you didn’t notice that at all. In this world we’re currently in, we aren’t just lovers but we’re instead, husband and wife. It’s an important fact for our acting to work out as well. That’s why...You can come closer to me. This should be obvious, given that we’re married now. You don’t have to look away to hide your face. The sunset here is so bright that I wouldn’t know if your cheeks or ears were red.

I feel like relishing in the moment right now and forgetting all about our current predicament. I feel like staying here forever, with you, as beautiful as you are. Along with this magnificent, dazzling garden. Gazing at the sunset forever and ever…

What’s the matter? Of course, I don’t mind if you wish to take a break. Did that tire you out? Me? There’s no way I’d be tired with such simple things. Even if I were a king in this story we’re currently playing out, I’d say that my job as the student council president is much more hectic and busy. Now then, I’d love to stay and chat with you, but we’ve really got to get back and sort out all this new information we’ve acquired from the past few days.

From what we’ve gathered from our inspections of the area, the areas not depicted in the story itself along with the rest of the world aside from the court and the castle do not exist. As I’m sure that you’ve witnessed yourself. In other words, even if there was a way out, it would most certainly be within the castle itself or the court areas here. And also...Regarding the words that we saw on the wall, new words form whenever the sun rises. I’m sure that’s proof that the story as proceeding onwards. As further proof of that, the ceremony preparations are also proceeding smoothly. And...There’s also the fact that every other person or being residing here besides us are all creations of that magic book. They all have forms and look human enough but they’re only capable of one-liners and the same repetitive words. Of course, it’s expected since they’re people who only exist within the book, but...We still do not know if they’ll eventually evolve to hold their own wills and thoughts. And...While I’ve managed to grasp a couple of things about this world we’re currently in, I’m still facing a dead-end in regards to its connection to our world.

Haa...Please don’t look so uneasy. We certainly don’t have a single clue right now, but I’ll definitely find a way for us to return back to our old world. I swear to save you and get you out of here even if this body of mine crumbles and fails. Why? Don’t you want to return to our old world? Heh. I see, so that’s it. You’re right. It won’t do at all if we don’t make it out together. What have I...I can’t believe that I even uttered those words. It seems like I’ve had a short lapse of memory. The sun will be setting soon. We should get back to the castle before it gets cold out. Here, come.

Heh. That’s a rather long sigh. I suppose you’re tired as well. We did walk out about the area quite a bit so you should really get a good night’s rest. Still...There are still a lot of things that we have yet to discover in this castle. We should go for a round around the castle’s rooms tomorrow morning. We might find out a little more. Come on then, we should turn in for the day since we have an early start tomorrow. I never expected us to be teleported into a world within the magic book but I’m glad for the fact that we’re together, at least.

Don’t just sit there, hurry and come under here. Heh. Won’t you stop distancing yourself from me? I won’t do anything. Come on, come here. Your adorable when flustered but you should really get used to sleeping together with me. Because we’ll eventually end up sleeping together like this anyway.

Hugging you close like this...letting myself relax with you in this manner fills we with a power that even I can’t explain. Plus, that brother of yours will never find his way here. I do feel bad for your only other family but it feels good to be monopolizing you all to myself. You’re mine for now. Only mine. Heh, have I surprised you? I apologize. How about I seek permission from you from now on? First...I wish to kiss this shell of your ear which has turned a lovely shade of red, may I? When will you deliver your reply? If you keep mum for this long, even I find it hard to hold myself back. Yes, alright. Next...Your neck with it’s absolutely delectable scent. Indulge me? Well, I’m troubled even if you tell me to do whatever I wish. I can hear my heartbeat so very loudly in my ears. I apologize for disturbing your sleep. I didn’t intend to do so but, it’s just that your very presence within the confines of my arms right now is such an honor. That’s right. This isn’t anything special at all considering our circumstances here. But even if it’s a given for such a thing to happen, that doesn;t change the fact that it brings me happiness. Still, I’d feel bad for keeping you from your sleep. I’d continue holding onto you so you can just fall asleep like that. That’s right, how about I stroke your head? Doing this calms me as well.

Heh. It seems like you’re clearly enjoying it. Just looking at you makes me feel sleepy as well. Come on then, close your eyes. Yes, good night.

Already asleep, huh. You must have been more worn out than you initially thought. What an adorable look you have on while sleeping. I wonder what you’re dreaming of right now? I do hope that it’s a good dream…

I have to hurry and find a way for us to get out of here before it’s too late. I’ll definitely save you. Even if my power fails me, I swear to get you out. Good night and sweet dreams.

Track 4:

This is the only place in the castle that we’ve yet to get a proper look at. There’s only 3 days left till the ceremony. It would be great if we had a couple of clues under our wing right about now- Mngh!? It’s great that you’re willing to hold my hand of your own accord right now but it’s a little troubling to have you yanking me along this hard!

No, I don’t mind. I know how you must feel right now. Besides worrying about whether we’re able to return to our world, you’re also worried about your mother and your brother, aren’t you? It’ll cause quite a big fuss back in our world if you’ve been missing for a couple of days as well. But don’t worry! There’s no way of telling that time flows the same inside of the book as it is in the outside world. There’s also a high chance that naught but a few minutes have passed in the real world. I suppose no one has noticed you missing yet. Although, I dare say that I can’t say the same for how much you miss your mother and brother and your yearning to find a way out as soon as possible.

It’s great to see that you’re a little less uneasy about things right now. I wish for you to rely on me if something were to crop up. I want to ease the uneasiness and worry you might be feeling to the best of my abilities if possibly. It’s also to protect that smile of yours. Yes, that’s right. I wish to be able to rely on you as well, if anything were to crop up and it calls for that.

Hm? What is it? This magic book’s motive? Well, that’s...No, I can’t say anything for sure. I apologize for being unable to answer your query. Rather than that, we should resume our search. We have to find clues about ways to return back to our original world as well.

This room’s really different from the others, considering how dusty it is inside. Plus it’s also pitch-black inside and I can’t really see much of anything. Perhaps it’s because of the absence of a light source other than the light coming from the very entrance itself. There probably wasn’t much life here or anyone living here for that matter. Still, even if that were the case...There seems to be quite the amount of personal possessions in here. I wonder if it was a warehouse or a storage room of sorts?

There’s a candle and a wick over here. Which means that...As I thought, there are matches here. If we have these...Alright. This works. Oh, that’s...Of course, I would have lit it up in just a moment with my magic but I simply used the match because it was simply lying there, just within reach. Putting that aside, we’re now able to get a clear view of the room now that we’ve lit up the candle. Indeed, it’s a mix of various items and trinkets. Other personal items left here would be...clothes? Was this someone’s living quarters? It as written in this story that the king did love clothes, but...there are quite a number of femenine clothing here. Hm? DId you manage to find something?

This is...No matter how you look at it, this surely can’t be an article of clothing from this world. It’s similar to the type of clothes you’d usually wear. But this one in particular seems closer to what we demons use. And from the age of this cloth, I’d say that it’s pretty old. Looking at the other outfits here, however, tells me that the people who were wearing them were all from different timelines. Hmm…I don’t know. I can’t make much out of this despite how we’re the only two who are supposed to be in this world right now. I see! Oh, no, it’s nothing. We should inspect everything in this room for now. There might perhaps be clues leading to our way back. There seems to be a collection of books over here. They seem much more valued than the clothes over there.

What’s the matter? Why are you silent? Are you shaking? This room certainly has an ill-feeling vibe around it. Everything is left out in a place like this, without any form of order. It’s very weird. Plus, it’s starting to get colder inside here. Maybe it’s because the sun’s setting? I’m sure you’re shaking because of the cold. I think this would calm you down a little but...We can stay like that for a while. I won’t leave your side if it calms you down. Your hand has gotten pretty chilly to the touch as well. You might lose all sense of touch to the numbness that’ll start to set in. It should start to warm up if I join your hand with mine. Heh. You don’t have to worry about me. It’s harder on me if I left you feeling all cold like that without doing anything. Has the feeling returned to your hands yet? I see, that’s good to hear. It still feels a little cold to the touch though. I’ll light up the fireplace once we return to our room. You can rest there for a while and I’ll stay there with you in front of the fireplace. I’m glad to see that you’re starting to feel a little less tense about all these. I won’t let anything happen or hurt you while I’m around. Even if anything were to happen, I...Ah, I apologize, It seems like I was gripping you a little too hard.

Hm? Something fell. This is...A magical amulet? Yeah. A magical amulet hold a stone that magic can be stored within. There isn’t any trace of magic left in this thing since it’s been down here for so long. RIght. If I were to place my magic into this...Ngh!

It should light up. This is proof that there’s magic within the stone. You can try touching it. I’m pretty sure you must be surprised at how it’s warm to the touch. Within the confines of this stone dwells a flame. A fire made from my magic is burning within its depths. If you hold onto this, I’m sure you’ll be able to watch your footing even if you’re surrounded by pitch-black darkness. Here, let me clasp it around your neck. Come closer. The fact that my magic’s together with you means that I’m with you. This magical amulet will definitely protect you if anything were to happen.

Ngh! My apologies, I seem to be rather tired today. Don’t look so worried, this isn’t an issue at all. Still, won;t you let me stay within your arms for a while more. It feels really comfortable here. Thank you, but...It’s pathetic of me to be showing you such a weak side. I can rely on you anytime? I wish for the same as well. If that’s the case...Will you hear me out on this one selfish request of mine? If you could hold onto me tighter? I want to ingrain your warmth and the feeling of you into my memory. Yes, thank you.

Track 5:

It’s finally the day of the ceremony. And it turns out that we never did find any leads on both ends. Hm? You’re asking me if I’m alright? In what sense do you mean? Heh. I’m as normal as I can be as far as you can see. Any exhaustion you see on my being is because of the through inspection we did of every nook and cranny in this place. There’s no need for you to worry. What’s with that all of a sudden? Of course I’ll be appearing out there in front of the masses today. There’s no other way back to the real world for us if I do not.

We never did find another method to get out of this realm. There’s no other choice. Still, it would be great if the story did end just like the tale of “The Naked King” and all I had to do was to follow it through just as how it was written out to be. No, it’s nothing at all.

Oh? This sound...It seems like the story has a continuation. “The day of the ceremony had finally arrived. The invisible clothing that was made and fitted from the king was brought into his very chambers, clothing that would look invisible to fools.”

I see. So the clothes are supposed to be within this box? The story won’t continue if I don’t open it. Let’s see. W-What’s the meaning of this? This is the school’s uniform! Why would they be returning me my clothes now of all times? What is their objective? Are they aiming for something? Wait! You shouldn’t carelessly touch it! Ngh!

T-This-!! I see...They’re vicious! To think that they’ll forcibly suck out all the magic from my being just right before the story’s end! It seems like the ending I did predict was actually true. I kept quiet about it because I didn’t want to cause you worry but it seems like the end objective of this magic book is to suck out all the life source and the magic of the humans and demons alike it has trapped within itself. Do you remember the copious amounts of clothes we found back in that room? They were all remnants of this book’s past victims. And with that large amount of physical remnants left behind...I dare say that this book’s been living for just as long, preying on beings. And the same goes for me as well, my magic has been gradually sucked out from my being the longer I stay. Ngh! There were complications but this accursed book’s aim had always been me, a demon. Still, I never would have thought that it wanted that much of my powers and that was the price I had to pay. If this goes on, it’ll steal all of my power from me before we can even get to the ending of this story. It came here to take the rest of my powers away, disguised as that pile of clothing! The king that loved clothes...This magic book uses clothes as it’s way of preying on the people and it does seem rather effective. Bait...That’s why it’s giving us our uniforms now of all times. Sorry for keeping mum about it. But you looked uneasy just by being ensnared and trapped by this book. I couldn’t let you down and cause you more unease than I already did.

Ugh! It finally showed it’s true form! I’m sure that every other being in this castle’s the same as well, meant to impede and stop us in our path. It intends to end me with its own proverbial hands. The door’s locked for now, but it’ll eventually break from that amount of pressure being placed upon it. We were too late!? If it’s come down to this, then--Flames!

I don’t know how long I can hold them back with my remaining magic. I;ve managed to knock it down for now but it won’t always stay down. It’ll rear back for another attack again after a while.

We don’t have the time to spare till it gets back up so let’s hurry and move to a bigger room!

That scuffle we had earlier has drained more of my magic than I thought it would. It wouldn’t be strange if I’m unable to hold my ground any longer. No, it’s useless. There’s no exit out of this world we’re trapped in. We’re just cornered rats right now with nowhere to run.

It’ll be alright. I won’t let them hurt you no matter what. I’ll definitely- That’s right. I won’t let you hurt a single hair on her head. No matter what I have to do, no matter what ends I have to go to.

Heh. Hear me out. There’s one other way out. Yes, I mean it. So just leave everything to me and stay put.

Magic book! I’m sure you can hear me! It seems like you were unable to suck out all of my magic even with your last attempt at it. A pity, really, but I still have magic left within me! I’m sure you must want it. This magic that runs through my veins. The magic of the Arlond family that’s so rare and highly priced! Listen well! I’ll give you this magic of mine and even this body if you wish! But in exchange, you’ll have to return her back to our original world!

I understand and appreciate your sentiments. But there is and will be no meaning to this life of mine if you’re not back there in one piece. Please, don’t stop me. I apologize. There’s no other option here. No matter what the repercussions may be, I only wish to save you. Yes...I thought that we’d be returning back to our world together. But I’m sure even you know that there’s no other way to this right now. The thought of us being separated had never once crossed my mind. But I wish to save you just as much as that very same sentiment. I beg of you to please understand me. I simply wish to save the person that I love.

Do you understand? If so, then...W-Why? All of the sudden...There’s no meaning to you being alive if I’m not there? Am I...I’m...Such an important existence in your life as well? ...No...I see. It wasn’t as if I forgot but for us...We can’t put the other at stake. We promised to get out of here together, alive. That’s right. Heh...Yeah. Even if I managed to get you out in one piece, I’m sure that you’ll come back looking for me just to get me out. I can’t let you do something like that. Very well, I’ll have to prepare myself if that’s the case. That’s right, we’re getting out of here! No matter what we have to do!

Sorry but I’ve decided against giving you the rest of my magic! If you want it, you’ll just have to come and get it!!

Humph. Of course you’d take up the challenge. This is also partially your fault for keeping us trapped in here. There’s no need to fear you, there’s no way I’d do so no matter how long you keep us trapped in here! Slow! Fla--

Ngh--!

It seems like I’m unable to even summon my sword out anymore...How can I defeat it without my sword? It’ll be alright. I’ll bring it down one way or another! I’m sure that’ll be possibly if I hardness all of my remaining magic! Yes! That’s it! The magical amulet, the flames I granted you! There’s no doubt that what’s inside it is the physical form of my magic! If I utilize the magic within...Listen well, I want you to break that amulet upon my signal. Can you do it? Yeah, I’ll be relying on you.

Now, come at me whenever you please! We’re prepared for you! Now!! All of the flames are within my grasp! You’ll burn into nothingness with this! Rest assured, this flame is one of mine. It’s my magic so you’ll be fine so long as you stay within my arms. We should be able to get back to our world once it turns into ash. Could I hold you tighter? I want to be certain of the feeling of you in my arms. I can’t believe that I tried to give up something of such importance, currently residing in my arms. This foolishness of mine will only ever happen this one time and will never be spoken of henceforth again. However, I won’t ever let you go again. Yes, I mean it. No matter what happens, I vowed to stay by your side till the very end.

Track 6:

Haa...We’ve finally managed to come back. Can you get up? Here, take my hand. It seems like time hasn’t passed here while we were stuck in that book, just like I predicted. It’s not even sunset yet. The magic book’s turning to ash...Of course, that’s how it reaches its end.

At least there’ll be no more victims who’d fall prey to this book any longer. Besides, my powers are back to normal as well. Still...To think that Shiki would even bring in such a dangerous book. He might have inserted it to the pile, thinking that it was an interesting book, but...I’ll still have to give him a sharp telling off for his actions this time room. But for now, rather than rattling his ear off...There’s something I have to do. And that is...Hugging you as such. Even I was surprised to hear you say that you wouldn’t return to this realm alone. Perhaps it was your bleeding wounds...I thought that I wouldn’t be able to save you.

But still, we’ve managed to return to this realm in a full piece together. It’s only because you were so stubborn back there, pouring your entire being into telling me how you really feel. Heh, there’s no need to be modest at all. If it weren’t for your words, I’m sure that I wouldn’t even be standing here with you right now. I’m really...fortunate to have such a brave and affectionate lover like you. Hm? Me? ...But I don’t remember myself ever being reckless?

Eh? Right...I did keep the fact that my magic was all but sucked into oblivion to myself but that was only so that I wouldn’t make you feel uneasy. And...I was willing to sacrifice myself to that accursed tome so long as it meant that you would make it out safely…

I apologize. I didn’t mean to upset you. I swear that I’ll never try to face things alone by myself anymore. I promise to stay by your side and serve as your protector.

No- I just thought that a kiss was needed to seal a vow during times like this? Still...I never thought that such a simple action of mine would elicit such an adorable response from you. I’m so relieved right now that my own heartbeat is pounding in my ears.

It was just a simple, small kiss. And yet here you are, turning all red again. Please don’t run away. I want to feel you. Staying in such close proximity like this makes me feel at peace. Yeah...Didn’t I say so earlier as well? That even if something’s a given, it still doesn’t change the fact that it brings me happiness I won’t ever let you out of the cage of my arms. I love you and I’ll stay by your side, from now on and forever.

#Dance With Devils #Dance With Devils Charming Book #Kaginuki Rem #Arlond Rem #Saito Souma #Rejet #Otome #Drama CD #Translations #commissions #comission #Translation comission

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omnivoroustree · 4 years

Text

Cat Annoys a Dead God

A long short story (2,362 words) based off dancing in front of a Abbadon statue. written by me and @cactuscommander. The genre is fluff. There is swearing.

Catragna charged into the Grand Sahil on her raptor, glowing with excitement. Styran and Canach both looked up wearily. Their sibling was literally glowing, a bright blood red identical to Styran’s that usually only showed at night. “We’re going to the Desolation,” she declared, Aurene’s crystalline wings forming for an instant as she launched off the mount’s back, landing on the table and scattering the sandstorm cards. She stood there triumphantly for a moment, while Styran stared at her, bewildered and mildly annoyed as they were actually winning for once, and Canach sighed. “Well, come on,” she said.

Canach trudged outside, and Styran followed suit. “Why?” they said. They didn’t really care about the answer, and made that clear with their tone. Cat answered anyway.

“I heard that Abbadon hates dancing,” she said. Styran wondered how Cat was going to somehow turn that into a reason to visit the Desolation. “I found a statue of Abaddon in the Desolation a few weeks ago, so I was thinking…”

“That we should all go dance in front of it,” Canach finished. “You know, I think this idea is neither good nor worth my time.”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say, but it’s better. Let’s go do that.”

“What were you going to say then?”

Cat shrugged. “Can’t remember now. It had something to do with djinn, and maybe a hydra.”

“I don’t see how Abbadon and his thoughts on dancing are relevant to that.”

“Oh, I just thought that was interesting. Right, are we ready to go? Styran?”

Styran hadn’t spoken for a while, and their face looked quite blank before they nodded, and the three sylvari began their journey. Well, the two sylvari and a mesmer clone. The real Styran had made the most of Cat and Canach’s short conversation by slipping away and leaving a clone in their place. They’d been practicing creating mounts, and the skill was finally coming in handy. They watched the raptors, two real and one illusionary, turn into tiny dark specks on the desert sand, shimmering slightly with the afternoon heat.

They enjoyed the rest of their day in Amnoon, and then enjoyed a night without their younger sibling being loud and annoying. She was probably being loud and annoying wherever she was, probably somewhere in the Riverlands or Desolation, but Styran didn’t have to put up with it, and the thought of Canach having to instead brought a smile to their face. Even the next day, when they were getting bored of their solitude, they were grateful to at least not be dancing in front of a statue.

That same day, Cat and Canach reached the Bonestrand a little before noon. Neither of them had slept. They’d tried, but a few scarabs had attacked them in the night, then they’d taken revenge on every other scarab they could find using large amounts of explosives.

The second part had been Canach’s fault, and hadn’t just prevented him and Cat from sleeping, but also around a quarter of the population of the Elon Riverlands.

Cat still retained all of her energy, and dismounted to splash around in the shallow water surrounding the farms. Canach followed her, and watched the water run into his boots, felt it seep into his skin and weigh him down. He was tired. He wished he were a mesmer, like Styran, so he could have made a clone of himself and stayed in Amnoon. He glanced at the tall sylvari, who was still on their raptor and looking around aimlessly, and realised that Styran had actually done that.

“I should have known,” he said.

“What?” Cat yelled from a tree. She must have climbed it while Canach wasn’t looking.

“Nothing,” he said. “Do you know where to go?”

“What?”

“Where are we going?”

“Where are we going?” Cat echoed, jumping down into the water and calling her Skimmer, a creature named Blue who reluctantly followed Cat everywhere.

“You should know. This was your idea.”

Cat thought for a moment. “No, it was your idea. And I can’t remember what it was.”

“We were going to go dance in front of an Abbadon statue.”

“Oh, yeah. This way.”

Blue crossed the water insanely fast, but Canach didn’t have a skimmer, and he had to swim. Cat started laughing from a safe distance. She wouldn’t laugh at Canach in any other situation, but water rendered his explosives useless. Canach scowled. Blue bounced through the air happily.

After some time, Canach persuaded Cat to let him join her on the skimmer, and because they were so small, even Blue, who was small himself, could carry them both. He dutifully ferried them along the river, and when they reached the water’s edge, Cat and Canach climbed onto the back of a jackal, who Cat had unoriginally named ‘Jack’, leaving Blue to play around above the river. The blank-faced Styran clone followed them the entire way, and the way it stared at Canach vaguely made him remember the dead face of his sibling from - well, best not to think of that.

Canach had always assumed the Desolation was bleak and barren and, well, desolate, and from what he had seen, most of it was; he would never forget having to run through a pool of sulphur to reach the Bone Palace. But here, massive waterfalls cascaded down the cliffs, grass sprang from the riverbanks, and the river itself was pristine, and sparkled in the late morning sun.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Cat said. She could sense his awe, despite his attempts to hide it.

“It’s better than the rest of the desert,” he admitted. Cat turned to him, frowning.

“You really haven’t seen much of it,” she observed, then directed the Jackal forwards, and off a cliff.

Canach screamed. He hadn’t screamed before, and hadn’t intended to scream, yet there he was, lungs blasting out a high-pitched and panicked “CAT WHAT THE--”, then the jackal shot forwards and through a sand portal.

They were in a small cave, with a wall of water sealing them in and forming a backdrop for a towering statue of Abaddon. Canach wondered why the humans had worshipped the creature; it had too many sunken eyes and somehow looked more frightening than Zhaitan. Cat jumped down and walked up to it, while Canach shakily slid to the ground and tried to compose himself.

“Here we go,” Cat said, and began to dance. Canach had closed his eyes, and was wondering where Styran’s clone had ended up, when he started to smell burning. His eyes snapped open, to see two laser beams pointed at his sibling.

“Commander, I think you should stop,” he said. A wisp of smoke drifted to the cave roof. “Cat. Stop.” She didn’t stop. Canach wished he had picked less reckless people to care about. “Catragna!” He yelled, as she collapsed to the ground. The red glow faded from Abaddon’s two largest eyes.

“By the Pale Tree,” he muttered, and then, “Fuck.” Swearing was satisfying, but it didn’t help solve the problem. He tried to contact Dragon’s Watch.

The first thing that alerted Styran that something was wrong with Cat was the headache. Given they were Twins, they had a link stronger than most Sylvari - it was also one of the only links to the Dream that Cat still possessed.

The headache was made immediately worse by Canach’s screaming that began to come through the intercom. “CAT WHAT THE--”

“Sounds like they’re having fun.”

“I’m not going to track them, Commander.”

“Here we go.” Cat’s voice was slightly muffled. It had probably been picked up by Canach’s intercom, which also picked up her soft humming which Styran knew meant she was dancing.

“Commander, I think you should stop.”

“Is it really that hard,” Gorrik’s voice began, “to just keep this channel clear?”

“I don’t think Canach can hear us. He probably doesn’t know his microphone is on either,” Styran observed.

“Hang on, I should be able to switch it off,” Taimi said.

“Cat. Stop. Catragna! By the--”

Silence.

“Uh, actually, Taimi, can you turn it back on?”

“Nope. Sorry commander.”

Styran sighed, their head finding a comfortable new position in their hand. “Okay, who’s coming to the Desolation with me?”

Braham, Rox, and Rytlock met with Styran in the Bonestrand, and they all set about searching for the two sylvari. Styran had a feeling that Rytlock had only come to make fun of Canach, which they would normally support, but their headache was getting worse and they were genuinely worried for their siblings. They sent him to search the Chantry of Shadows, and then led Braham and Rox along a riverbank.

Their headache was getting worse with every step, which they hoped meant they were going in the right direction. The crackle of the intercom suddenly cut through the pain. “Alright commander, I’ve been working on reconnecting Canach’s communication thingy for the past few hours--”

“Communication thingy?”

“Yes,” Taimi hissed, “that is the technical term.”

“Go on.”

“You should be able to hear him in a minute, if his microphone is still on.”

“Thanks, Taimi.” Styran turned to Braham and Rox. “Alright, people, I need us to split up. There’s a lot of ground to cover here, and not much time. Make sure you have communicators on in case Canach starts talking again. If you hear anything, contact me.”

Meanwhile, in the cave, Canach had calmed down. Despite a good half hour of yelling into his intercom, he hadn’t gotten a response. He’d realised his microphone had been on for a while, and then that his speaker was dead. It must have been damaged while he was swimming. He’d managed to get Cat onto the jackal, which had watched the whole thing without seeming distressed in the slightest.

“You must have to put up with this a lot,” he said. The jackal blinked. Canach tried to direct it through the sand portal. “Come on, just take a few steps forward.” The jackal was sniffing the sand, and not moving anywhere. “Oh, just go through the portal, you oversized mutt.”

That seemingly had the opposite effect of what he wanted. The jackal let out a huff and pushed Canach onto the ground, standing over him and just staring boredly. It began sniffing him instead of the sandy floors, much to his dismay.

“Get off me! You stupid sand-castle, I am trying to help your master, the idiot she is! Why, you -” In response to the insults, the jackal found it appropriate to turn around a few times before plopping itself over Canach, not unlike a cat would curl up on its owner. The breath was knocked from his lungs as it crushed him under its weight, and he began struggling to move it off. He quickly found himself wondering if he should just go back to his criminal ways - anything would be better than this.

He suddenly understood why Styran had left to get therapy.

At this point Rox came through the waterfall. She stifled a laugh, then spoke into her intercom. “Commander, I found the other commander.”

“Where?”

“In a cave. It’s hidden by a waterfall, but I can see a sand portal here as well. And there’s an Abaddon statue.”

“Is the cactus there?”

“Yes.”

“Good. On my way.”

There was a long silence. Canach continued trying to escape from under the jackal.He gave up pretty quickly. “Are you going to help, or just stand there?” He asked.

“I’ll just stand here,” Rox said.

“Thank you. Very helpful, really.”

“Glad to be of service.”

The jackal fell asleep.

That is how Canach and Rox stayed for another three minutes and fourteen seconds (Canach counted) before there was screaming as Braham fell through the waterfall, Styran following shortly after, both of them covered in tar that the waterfall barely managed to wash off.

“Even after we KILLED JOKO there are still some Awakened trying to kill us!” Braham had panted before falling to the ground, Rox kneeling beside him and poking him gently, to which he groaned - definitely still alive.

“No rest for the weary, Braham.” Styran then turned to their brother, still underneath the sleeping Jackal, which in turn was underneath the unconscious Catragna. “I have to say, Canach, that you always did strike me as less of a dog person. But here I stand, corrected.”

“Very funny, Commander. But I would appreciate being freed from underneath this deceptively shaped sandbag, and getting Cat to a Waypoint.”

“Always focusing on the important things. Well Jack, you heard him. Up! Come on, then!”

Of course, of course the Jackal responded to its owner’s twin, but not the other brother, oh no, that would be just… too convenient, wouldn’t it? Sure enough, Styran summoned their own Jackal (magical mounts were much more convenient, now that Canach thought about it), and gestured for Braham and Rox to ride it as Jack stood up and moved off of Canach. Braham and Rox got onto the second Jackal, going through the sand portal and out of sight.

“You could have just revived her.” Styran’s voice cut through the tense silence as they waited for the second Jackal to return. “Would have saved time.”

“Well excuse me if I didn’t think of that at the time. I was a bit panicked about the lasers shooting out of that statue’s eyes.”

“Whatever you say. Now, let’s head back to camp.”

Rytlock stood in the middle of the Desolation, covered in sand and tar and… numerous other corpse juices, probably, as he struggled to find a safe path to travel home through the sulfur.

He leaned in to his now broken radio. “Commander, now would be a nice time to tell me if you’ve found Canach.”

“For the last time, if you don’t keep this channel clear unless it’s an emergency, I will remotely detonate your radios.” Gorrik’s voice crackled through instead, and Rytlock’s only warning to throw the communicator as far as possible before it exploded was an insistent beeping.

“Well, shit.”

The following explosions were like the scissors cutting his only lifeline away as he begrudgingly looked for the nearest Waypoint.

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rallis-fatalis · 5 years

Text

All That Glitters...

Dragons always seem to find riches somehow. It's as if the two are naturally attracted to each other. That phenomenon is no different with Rallis who decides to dip her toe into the world of treasure hunting in search of loot. A fun way to earn money, solve puzzles, and explore the continent quickly turns into so much more as the dragon finds a request that would reveal treasure she could only dream of laying eyes on. All that glitters may not be gold, but this might be a bit better than some shiny yellow coins.

The braggarts were going at it again. The Champions' Guild was filled with ooh's and aah's and cheers as the treasure hunters showed off their newest prizes. Rallis grumbled into her stew. Things were always so noisy whenever they came back to the Guild. The obnoxious braggarts were a party of four treasure hunters known as the Fortune Finders, a team that only took on treasure hunting jobs and always came back to show off the loot before they sold it or turned it in for the posted reward.

Many adventurers and champions didn't know it, but there was an unofficial mission posting board for treasure hunting in the Champions' Guild. It used to be official and managed by the Guild staff but then problems cropped up left and right and they left it to rot. That didn't stop people from posting their requests on the board in hopes of receiving help. Otherwise, requests theives or a private company didn't get their hands on were passed around the other adventuring guilds, and anything deemed not worth the greater guilds' time was tossed out and picked up by adventurers eager for glory or champions bored out of their wit. Nowadays the board was really only maintained by the Fortune Finders, the Champions' Guild's biggest and most well-known treasure hunting company. The Guild itself wasn't interested in wasting their time and resources managing the missions anymore and nearly every hunt some poor lone sap took on ended in failure and nothing but wasted time. The treasure hunts were more spider web thin hopes of fame and fortune than any form of sustainable job. And yet somehow, the Fortune Finders came back more and more lately to show off their successes. They had one stroke of luck after another, and it made other adventurers begging to join them in hopes of splitting the incredible loot.

"And here you see boots made from the scales of an ancient dragon!" the leader of the treasure hunters wowed from his stage atop a table, proudly showing off his most recent find before delivering it to his buyer. His was voice was as greasy as his slicked back black hair and very obviously foreign with his lilting whiny manner. His long thin fingers wrapped around the boots like greedy tree branches and his long thin beak of a nose stood out like a poorly placed carrot on a snowman. The treasures around his neck and on his fingers probably weighed more than his entire twig of a body. Bracelets of gold, onyx, and gems galore weighed down his wrists like manacles, the sparkling brightness contrasting greatly with his rich dark red coat more fitting of a noble than an adventurer. His three partners hyped him up as they stood behind him, all three brutish thugs of men. They were just as laden with treasures as their boss. They looked to be triplets, their short golden hair shimmering alongside their golden chains. The only way to tell the difference between them were the gemstones inlaid in their axes and in the jewelry adorning them; one had rubies, one had sapphires, one had emeralds.

"This dragonhide is so ancient it's said to be from the Third Age!" the greasy leader continued. His name was Aniza, Rallis remembered. It sounded just as foreign as him and made anyone who spoke it sneer. His name always made her snort since it was Wyvernic for sneezing. "Back when the dragons were white and their armor magical. The possibilities these boots hold are endless!"

"And they're fake!"

The room fell silent and turned at the noise in unison. Every eye in the Guild was on Rallis. She took a sip of her stew and continued. "This is real white dragonhide," she said as she tugged at her top. "From the Third Age. See how it shimmers more silver than white? Fake white dragonhide is too white, like a fish that's never seen sun. Like the boots he holds in his hands."

Aniza frowned indignantly and hopped from his table to hers, towering over her like a menacing stick. "And just who do you think you are, you ugly filthy monster, spouting such uneducated nonsense?"

She took another spoonful of stew. "I think I'm a dragon who can tell the difference between my own kind's skin and a fake. Did you know dragonhide can not catch fire? If you tried to burn my clothes, they would not light. But your boots, however..."

Rallis sifted through her rune pouch with one hand and snapped with the other. Instantly, the boots caught fire and the blaze began eating away at the tops. The crowd gasped and the leader yelped in fear as he pat the flames out. "Told you. It's most likely painted snakeskin."

Aniza grit his teeth in fury as he glared daggers at the dragon. His three partners stomped over, hands on their axe hilts. The leader looked like he was about to lose it, but calmed himself with a slick of his oily hair. "My apologies for calling your knowledge into question, oh great dragon. In fact, I should be thanking you! It would tarnish the Fortune Finders' good name if we delivered such an abomination! Here, you may have them as my thanks, oh noble dragon."

He dropped the half burnt boots into her bowl of stew, splattering the contents all over her shirt and knocking the bowl into her lap. Bits of meat and potato collected in a soupy puddle in her skirt. Her ears pinned back in embarrassment as the crowd laughed at her misfortune. She silently placed the bowl back on the table and stood to shake the food off.

"Oh my, are you a dragon or a dog?" Aniza mocked as he hopped off the table. The room laughed harder. "Perhaps a mutt in dragon's skin! I should very much like to know how much boots made of your scales would go for! Maybe not much if they're as unpleasant as your personality."

Rallis snapped at the air, making sure every one of her terrifying teeth flashed inches from the man's face. He jumped back with a most shrill shriek, much like a pig. Rallis snorted and quietly walked out to get some peace and quiet.

____________________________________________

The dragon giggled and splashed as she swam around the river behind the Guild. She chased swimming fish, did jumps and tricks in the water, and made little statues out of the river stones. If she had to wash the food off her clothing she might as well have fun doing it. She was currently stacking a precarious tower of stones at the river's edge, wanting to see how tall she could make it before it toppled. Footsteps crunched through the grass as they drew closer and two perfectly polished black pointed boots came into view. Rallis frowned as she looked at their owner.

"You even swim like a dog," Aniza remarked as he kicked her tower down. Rallis glared and turned to swim away. She yelped as something grabbed her tail and yanked her out of the water. It was one of his lackeys, smiling when he realized the dragon didn't appreciate his gesture. He gave her tail one last harsh pull before tossing her at Aniza's feet. She snarled at the lot of them. "You even have the manners of a beast! Why the people of this idiotic city treat you as anything other than a monster is a mystery indeed."

Rallis rubbed her tail as she sat in the grass and frowned at them. "You're the real monsters here."

Aniza feigned hurt. "Oh how your words strike me so!" He leaned down to her, nose to nose. "I'm not here to associate with you, just give you a message. The next time that lizard-sized brain of yours gets the idea to humiliate us in public again, or otherwise get in our way, I'll make you wish you had never been born. We have a reputation to uphold and your scaly brat self isn't going to ruin that. Understand?"

Rallis glared at them defiantly but nodded.

"Good!" he smiled. "Glad we understand each other! We'll leave you alone, you leave us alone! We'll start right now by letting you get back to your annual bath. So long, monster!"

Rallis snarled at them as they left and shivered as the wind picked up. She shook the water off and dragged herself to Varrock Castle. Some warm tea and a story from Reldo sounded like a dream right now.

_____________________________________________

Rallis hung out with the librarian for a couple days until he wanted to see how her writing was coming along. She would rather die than incur his wrath, or more realistically his hours long lectures. If her teacher found out her writing was still worse than chicken scratch... She ran off before he could find out.

The Champions' Guild was much more quiet today. The Fortune Finders weren't around, and neither was much of anyone else. Just some usual lazies she saw pretty often, one of which always liked to eye her up. She ignored his stares and thought about what to do today. She didn't really want to work today, but she knew she should. She wasn't in desperate need of money or anything, she could catch food or ask for anything she needed, but she knew she should still work. Jobs were one of the keystones of the human world after all and she was part of that now. But nothing appealed to her today. She was still so angry with that group of rude treasure hunters! Some small part of her wanted to show them up, make everyone realize they were awful, and find a treasure that would trump anything they could ever hope to find.

She glanced at the treasure board. The thing was half rotten and rickety. Postings old and new littered its face. Maybe trying some treasure hunts could be fun. And if she did end up finding something amazing, she could rub it in those jerks' faces! Rallis grinned and strutted over to the board, snatching the first job she found. It was simple enough. Locate, dig up, and bring back the locked chest on the posted map. Only problem was the map had no names or even many landmarks. The job poster had never been able to find the spot to dig at and promised a reward of some of the loot inside for anyone who helped find it. Rallis folded up the paper and walked out with a smile. She'd find it for sure! And maybe there would even be riches inside!

Three days passed, three whole days of trying to match her map with records of maps around the continent in Reldo's library. He was a bit shocked at how diligent and thorough she was. He wished she was the same way when it came to learning how to write. It was so hard to pinpoint the spot on the map with just some vague lines and an X. But she was determined to find this treasure! Like magic, one day the lines all made sense. Rallis snapped up in excitement, grabbed the map and a shovel, and started her trek to White Wolf Mountain.

Rallis sprinted through Taverley as fast as she could, a dragon on a mission. The druids shouted to her and waved hi but she paid them no mind. She had to see if she was right and she couldn't lose time having a family reunion with everyone right now. She ran to the mountain base, climbed its first ascent, and skirted around to the northeastern side. One she reached a dead end, she matched the map with the mountainside and nodded, got out her shovel, and began to dig. Some of the wolves took interest in her trespassing and began to excitedly dig alongside her once they realized it was just her and not some awful human. With the added help, Rallis dug up her treasure in no time. Once her shovel struck something hard and went no farther, she grinned ear to ear and yanked up a sturdy heavy chest. She thanked her lupine friends and dragged her chest off the mountain, carving a trail behind her as she went.

Luckily for Rallis, the person who wanted this chest found was down south near Rimmington and not all the way back in Varrock. Too excited to feel tired, she dragged the solid heavy chest through the day and night until she made her way to the small gloomy town. She pounded on a door to a small house, unceasing until she heard someone inside. "Yes, yes, I'm coming!" The voice sounded like a tired man. Sure enough, a tired tall blonde man in his pajamas opened the door. He woke up immediately at the sight of a monster at his door, taking a step back. "Oh my god Skippy was right about seeing monsters," he muttered.

Rallis was too excited over the treasure to pay the comment any mind. Her smile shone brighter than the lantern by his door. She held up her crumpled treasure map and mission notice. "Did you make this request?"

The man gave it a glance and nodded. "I did." He then noticed the chest behind her and his smile grew just as wide, ignoring all fear of her odd appearance. "You mean you found it?! Come in, please!" The two lugged the chest inside and the man ran off to find the key. He practically skipped back with glee. "You kept knocking on that door so fiercely I thought you might have been that damn Skippy drunkenly beating on my door again. This is a pleasant surprise indeed!"

His key fit into the sturdy old lock perfectly. Rallis' ears shot up in excitement as the lock cracked open and clattered to the floor. The man lifted open the lid and carefully took every item out with awe. The sack of mysterious jingling he pulled out was promising. When they looked inside, it was filled with about 200 gold. He pulled out a book next, a creaky old thing filled with family history. A small silver house sigil came next in the shape of a pin, then an old painting of two people, a man and woman, and finally a beautiful old ring. Other than the gold pieces and the ring, nothing really seemed worth any money, but obviously to this man the contents of that chest held more value than anything else in the world.

He held the ring up with a smile. "I can not thank you enough for finally finding this. I've been posting my request everywhere I could every week for nearly three years all in hopes of finding this." He marveled over the ring. It looked like a beautiful pearl framed with old intricate leaves of silver, giving the ring the appearance of a flower.

"It's really pretty," Rallis told him.

"It's very important too. It has been passed down in my family for a long time. With this I can finally marry..." He began to blush and handed Rallis the sack of gold. "Anyway! I promised a reward. I'm sorry I don't have more but I hope this will be enough."

She was secretly hoping for more to rub in the Fortune Finders' faces but this felt better. She was glad she could help change this man's life for the better. Now finally growing tired from the day, Rallis said goodbye and wandered to Taverley Dungeon to spend the night with her mom and brothers. Come morning she spent some of the day catching up with the druids up north and walked back to the Champions' Guild to try treasure hunting again.

For months, Rallis balanced her own personal quests around the world with treasure hunting missions from the Guild. Reldo grew accustomed to her company in the library and would often leave tea and snacks at the desk she claimed as her own. He was starting to wish he had treated his lessons for her like treasure hunts. Perhaps she'd actually bother to learn what he taught instead of running off to get into mischief. Some of the treasure hunts didn't pan out, but the ones that did added up into a nice sum of money with their rewards. The small amounts of gold added up. She never managed to find some big cool prize like the Fortune Finders frequently did, but she soon began to stop caring and had fun with the adventures and enjoyed how happy she was making people.

On a day like any other, Rallis made her way back to the Champions' Guild to grab a new treasure hunt. She decided to try one from the very back, hidden behind all the newer requests. The paper she pulled off was yellowed and crunchy from age, its face covered in holes where newer requests were pinned on top of it over the years. It seemed like one of the oldest requests on the board. Hopefully she could make this person's day! She folded the sheet up and tucked it away. As she hopped outside ready to look it over at the library, a firm large hand grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around. The force sent her twirling around like a top until she tripped and landed on her butt in the dirt. Mean laughter snapped her out of her dizziness. She looked up to find the entire Fortune Finders party looming over her menacingly. Before she could get a word in, Aniza's slimy voiced piped up.

"I hear you've been stepping on our turf as of late!" Rallis flinched from his voice. It was even crueler sounding today, and slimier than any eel. "I thought I told you to keep your distance."

"And I have!" she snapped. "You don't own the treasure hunter board. I wanted to try treasure hunting out too!"

The burly triplets chuckled behind their leader. "Oh, did no one tell you?" Aniza said as he leaned down to the dragon. "We do own that board. No one gets the fame and glory of treasure hunting but us unless we let them. Why do you think there's no other treasure hunting groups in the Champions' Guild, hm?"

Rallis thought about that for a moment and she realized he was right. In the Guild at least, there were no other actual treasure hunting parties. They were usually their own private company outside the Guild confines. And the few adventurers that got the bright idea to try a mission posted on that board never tried again. They either went back to the boring low-pay low-thrill official Guild jobs or never showed up again. Rallis had just figured they had bad luck and didn't want to try again.

"It's our board and we didn't give you permission to use it," Aniza continued. "It's by sheer luck we haven't been able to run into you until now. Your treasure hunting days are over and you owe us a percentage for using our resources."

"A percentage? But I barely got anything! Hardly 50k."

"Then we'll be taking 40 of that! 10k for each of us. It's either that or a finger for each 10 you hold back." He pulled out a knife. "Which do you prefer?"

"Neither! Get your own money!" Rallis scurried away from the man only to find herself bump into something big and sturdy. It was one of the golden trio, cold eyes shining like the sapphires around his neck. The other two blocked her from either side as Aniza stepped forward, twirling around his knife. It was probably the only thing he owned that wasn't encrusted in gems or plated in gold. Its blade was sharpened to a wicked simple point that looked just as deadly as one of her fangs. His three lackeys held her tight, two grabbing each arm and pinning down a leg, the other slamming a knee on her tail and wrapping an arm around her waist. In a flash, Aniza yanked her head up by the horns and pressed the knife to her throat.

"That wasn't an option, monster," he whispered in her ear. "Either give us what you got or perhaps my blade won't be so steady when I slice your fingers off. Wouldn't it be such a shame to never use a hand again over a paltry 40 thousand?"

If she wasn't so outnumbered and underprepared, it would have been them losing a hand, maybe more. But as it was, she could do nothing. "I don't have it on me! I hid it for safe keeping!"

"Well then I'm sure you'd be beside yourself with joy to fetch it for us!" The three brutes yanked her up and made sure she had no space to run. "Why don't you show us where you've hidden our lovely money?"

Rallis growled as she begrudgingly led them toward Varrock. "Why are you so hungry for a small pile of gold? Don't you guys find stuff worth millions?"

"Every gold piece adds up," Aniza said. "And we deserve every single piece the world has to offer." They began to near the road to western Varrock. "Now, let's just act like old friends and draw no attention. The less trouble you cause, the easier you'll get off. Where might you have hidden that gold now?"

Rallis hissed under her breath as he nudged her in the side with his knife, reminding her who was in charge. "Where else do you keep money? In a bank."

He supposed she was right. "I would've thought a mutt like you would have buried it. Color me surprised you can act like a civilized beast." Rallis hid her face in embarrassment. She wasn't about to admit her first thought was indeed burying it in Ellemaria's garden, but the queen would have noticed and probably have her head cut off and mounted over her throne.

The group reached the road to the city. A small house sat to their left, laundry drying in the sun. The place was surrounded by cats. One had pulled down a sheet and curled up on it to sleep, three others were drooling as they rubbed their faces on a potted plant under the window of a room facing them, five more were simply lounging around. Rallis chirped something happily to the cats and all nine of them perked up and meowed. Rallis chirped some more and Aniza shoved her to silence her chattering.

"What do you think you're doing, beast?"

"Saying hello to my friends, jerk." She nodded her head toward the nine cats now making their way over.

One of the three golden giants cooed to the kitties but he wouldn't dare defy orders and run off to pet them. One of the other triplets whispered how cute they were. Aniza sneered at them. "You can speak to animals, can you?"

"Not all of them. But I do have a way with cats."

"I'd rather you have a way with walking right now and get going to our money."

Rallis chirped something sadly to the cats and turned away. She ducked her head to hide her smile. The nine cats ran off far ahead of them and vanished into the city before they even reached the western guard post. The sound of meowing grew louder the closer the grew to the city. As they reached the western checkpoint, the five found the guards preoccupied with petting the feral cats that roamed Varrock.

Rallis smiled. "Did you know Varrock has more cats, both wild and tame, than anywhere else in the world?" she told them. The gold haired triplets seemed to smile at the idea and longingly glanced at the guards petting the cats. More cats were appearing before them, as if materializing out of the cracks in the very ground. The sound of meowing and purring drowned out anything else.

"I'm sure you expect me to care but I don't," Aniza sighed.

"That's your problem. You're so mean. You have no friends, do you? Well I do. In fact, I'm friends with every cat in the city. Would you like to know how many there are?"

Aniza was about to force her mouth shut he was tired of her blabbing, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hissing. On every wall, every stone, every available spot on the ground was a very upset cat, all glaring at Rallis' captors. She smiled at Aniza. "Currently there are 208."

At once, a horde of angry cats launched themselves at the four men, sinking their claws into anything they could. One feral one bit into Aniza's leg after others made a hole in his pants. The golden trio howled as the endless stream of cats clawed and bit at them. Too occupied with throwing the cats away, the Fortune Finders couldn't stop Rallis from wriggling out of their grasp.

"STOP HER!" Aniza shouted. A cat swiped him across the face, clawing him across an eye. He howled in pain as he threw the cat off, poor feline gaining a bald spot as Aniza ripped off its fur as he threw it. His three lackeys shook the wailing felines off and readied to chase and capture Rallis once more.

Rallis howled something at the cats and at once they dispersed as quickly as they came. Aniza clutched his bleeding face and glared daggers at the dragon. His anger quickly changed to horror as he saw her pull fire runes out of her pouch and start an inferno. The fire leapt at the four as the runes crumbled in her hand, lapping at their clothes hungrily. Shrieking filled the air as the fire heated their heavy golden jewelry and burned welts into their skin. Rallis didn't stick around to see if they were okay, letting them and the guards deal with putting out the flames.

"Maybe don't cross a dragon next time!" Rallis shouted as she ran off.

________________________________________________

Rallis breathed a sigh of relief as that incident grew farther and farther behind her until her mind once again grew occupied with the idea of treasure hunting. She unfurled the paper she hid away and gave it a look over. Instead of a map in need of deciphering or a cryptic message left behind by some trickster, all that was written were instructions on where to go for information, the name of the mission issuer, "The Lantknecht Family," and the reward which was left blank. Rallis gave the name some thought. It sounded important and vaguely familiar but she couldn't remember where she heard it. She supposed she'd find out when she went to the location listed on the paper.

Rallis made her way to a rather large house near the Wilderness ditch by Edgeville, though it was certainly in disrepair. Even from the ground she could see holes in the roof shoddily patched and rebroken and repatched. The paint of the house flaked away into piles for the wind to sweep away and potted plants by the doorstep had long since died and began to rot. The front door opened out to a porch with a rocking chair, and while normally it would have been an adorable scene just missing someone sleeping in the chair with an old dog at their side, the porch sported holes and the chair looked ready to crumble. Even the few steps leading up to the place from the ground felt ready to break as she stepped on them. The place was a mess. Rallis timidly knocked on the door and waited.

A long stretch of silence followed, then slow shuffling. The rickety door was angrily flung open as an old man leaning on a marred silver cane sourly greeted his guest. His attire was just as old and fragile as his house, though it was obvious it used to be elegant and beautiful. His long hair had turned snow white as had his beard, almost making him look like a yeti. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at his monstrous guest and fast as a lightning flash, he snapped the top of his cane off to reveal a dagger which he pointed at the dragon. Rallis jumped back in surprise and held the paper in front of her like a shield. The man slowly took the paper from her hand and looked between it and the dragon before deciding to put his knife back onto his cane.

"You are really here for this?" he asked. His voice was gruff like sandpaper, and every word was said clearly and formally, like a nobleman's speech. Rallis nodded. He grumbled and handed the paper back. "Come in then." She timidly stepped inside and carefully closed the door behind her. Inside was a bit more well kept and it was apparent this place used to be magnificent in its prime, with its grandiose parlor room of marble fireplace and mahogany chairs and carpets trimmed with gold. It would have all been very beautiful if it wasn't crumbling away and tearing at the seams with age. Mounted beast heads of giants of old stared down at their guests with fury in their marble eyes. Rallis found them quite distasteful and paled at the sight of one, an ancient dragon of blue and silver. They were all covered in heavy layers of dust, but the dustiest thing in the room were the empty clasps above the fireplace. It was obviously meant to hold something very important but now all it supported were visible piles of dust and dirt. Next to the clasps was a family crest of vines and flowers winding themselves around a shield, and next to that an old painting of a knight with that same crest emblazoned on his shield and a symbol of swirls on his chestplate. It looked like a breeze of wind. The old man shuffled over to a well-worn seat as he grumbled under his breath. "Damn thing looks like something that whippersnapper Oziach would try to hunt." He side-eyed Rallis warily as he sat down and motioned for her to take one of the other seats.

The dragon took a seat, wincing as the chair creaked and shuddered at her weight. The old man was eyeing her from tail to horns with a mixture of intrigue and suspicion. "Is something wrong?" Rallis asked as she tried to hide from his stare.

"I have had a lot of people come to my door seeking to fulfill my request, all looking for the riches associated with my name," he began. "You are by far the most... interesting adventurer thus far. But I will not turn away the help, no matter how they look."

"And that's all I want to do. I like helping people! It looked like your request had been ignored for a long time."

"Mmm, I suppose it has. I wasted my life trying to find this treasure, and once I became unable to continue on my own, I began to waste other people's lives. Do you intend to waste yours as well?"

"I'm pretty good at figuring things out, and nothing's a waste if it helps someone!" Rallis smiled brightly.

"You have spunk," the man chuckled. "If you are serious then I suppose I would be eager to put that adventurer's pluck to good use."

"I don't know what either of those words mean!" she said happily. "But I'm still excited to help! This whole treasure hunting thing has been fun. So how come you haven't been able to find what you're looking for yet?"

The old man tugged open a drawer in a stand next to his seat. Out he pulled a yellow sheet of old parchment. The ink had begun to fade from the years and the paper bore stains from the many hands that held it. "This is all I have pointing to the location of my family's treasure and it is very cryptic. Every adventurer that has come before has searched in vain. They make no progress and blink to find they have spent their best years chasing what I am now starting to believe may simply be rumors in the wind. The promise of my riches blinds the youth of any generation." He spat the last part out in disdain.

Rallis tilted her head like a confused bird. "You're rich?"

He leaned his head on his cane and looked her in the eye, trying to see if she was making a joke. He determined she wasn't. "So you just happened to take my request and see my name but not realize who you would be working for? You do not know who House Lantknecht is?" Rallis shook her head no. "You just get more interesting. Though I suppose monsters would not much care for human money and history, would they?" He slowly stood from his seat and walked over to Rallis, dropping the page in her lap and holding out his hand. "Vertis Lantknecht, last member of House Lantknecht. If we were not treasure hunters, we fought for peace in every battle and every war since the Third Age."

Rallis perked up in awe and took his hand. "Even the God Wars?!"

Vertis nodded with a small smile. She certainly got excited quickly. "Yes, even the God Wars."

"That's so cool! My name is Rallis! I don't have any cool family history, I think. I'm just a dragon."

"I would say that is incredible in its own right. It is not every day you meet a talking dragon. I hear they hoard treasure. Are they just as good at finding it as well?"

"Well I've been finding lots of stuff for people lately so maybe!" Rallis picked up the paper in her lap and looked it over. "So what am I looking for? And do you have any ideas where to start looking?"

"Where, no. It seems like I or the people who have come crawling to me to help have explored every speck of dirt on the planet for my prize. As for what..." Vertis pointed to the two clasps above the fireplace. "It is the sword that was meant to be passed down through my family, the sword my ancestors used Ages ago. It has been missing for generations and has placed a curse over us all. It is as if any Lantknecht can not rest until it is found." He laughed grimly. "Though I suppose with how old I am it will not have any Lantknechts to torment for much longer."

Rallis pouted. "That's a bad way to think. Don't you worry, I'll find it! It's too important not to find for you!"

"I would like to see that sword before I die, but please take no offense if I am still skeptical. You seem charming for a mons--, dragon, but charm and skill are not the same thing, and this sword has been lost for a long time."

"I will find it!" Rallis cheered as she jumped from her seat, paper in hand. "I swear! I'm gonna get to looking right now!" The dragon energetically hopped out the decrepit home and raced over to Reldo's to get to work, not waiting for a goodbye from Vertis.

____________________________________________________

Rallis pored over the sheet Vertis gave her for days trying to decipher its meaning. She hardly slept or ate, making and crossing out notes as she thought of ideas and realized their flaws. She was getting frustrated and it was making Reldo nervous. He'd rather the dragon not throw a tantrum in his library again. On day five of her quest to figure out her puzzle, the librarian came over to offer his support.

"You've uh... been going at this for quite a while," he started. "Do you need some assistance?"

Rallis growled at the paper and shoved it into Reldo's hands. "Your riddles are fun, but this one sucks. I don't get it at all!"

Reldo skimmed the paper. It was a short read, most of the paper left blank. All that was printed on its surface was indeed some kind of riddle. He read it aloud.

"Where chaos died Yet flourished wide, Eternal shadow looms But here flower blooms, Here sun does fly And the dead still lie, The servant of land With sword in hand Guards peace still in death Where only pure draw breath."

He flipped it over to the back but nothing was there. "I will say it is an intriguing riddle. It even rhymes too! I love it when they rhyme. What is the purpose of this poem?"

"It leads to treasure," Rallis explained. "And I promised I'd find it. He needs it!"

"Ah so its purpose is to detail a location. You have no ideas about where this might be?"

"No!" Rallis snapped as she slammed the desk. "I keep thinking I do but then the other parts keep messing me up! I'm so confused."

"Maybe don't try to solve every line as a whole then, but rather solve every line as if they were their own riddle." Reldo handed the paper back and pointed to the first two lines. "Like this part for example. Just focus on these two lines and nothing else. What ideas did you come up with for that?"

"Nothing really. It doesn't make sense to me. Somewhere chaos thrives but also doesn't? That makes no sense."

"Perhaps it doesn't mean that. The 'yet' with the past tense seems to implicate that this place in the first two lines was somewhere that used to be lively with chaos but one day the chaos died. Does that sound like anywhere you know?"

Rallis shook her head. "No. But I also didn't think of that. Thanks for the idea, bookman."

He pointed to the next two lines. "What about these?"

"That one I kinda had an idea. Flowers need sun to grow, so how could they grow in eternal shadow? I thought maybe it was talking about cave nightshade, a flower that can only grow in the dark, but then the next line messed me up."

"'Here sun does fly.' Hmm, that does seem to throw a wrench in that idea, but it's still a good one. I wouldn't have thought of nightshade actually. You're better at riddles than you think." Rallis smiled at the praise. "This riddle implies that there is a place that is constantly dark but has one special place where the sun shines," Reldo continued. "Can you think of any place like that?"

The dragon thought for a moment and nodded. "The sun doesn't shine in Morytania from what I saw but it could shine in some special spot. The Wilderness is always dark too but maybe there's a spot of sun there."

"Now those sound like promising leads! Why don't you tell me your other thoughts about the rest of this?"

The two talked the day away with their theories and bounced ideas off each other. Reldo was quite proud of the dragon. She was really shaping up to be quite the thinker. She had certainly come far compared to the illiterate impulsive beast that greeted him years ago. The librarian had long since gone to sleep while Rallis still chipped away at the riddle's meaning. She didn't really understand the second half so well, but the first half was making a bit of sense.

'Somewhere usually dark but has a special place with light that makes flowers grow. This place also used to be thrown into chaos but isn't like that anymore.' She thought of her two ideas of Morytania and the Wilderness. Although Morytania seemed more likely to have bits of sun break through the perennially foggy barrier that shrouded the land in darkness, something about the chaos line didn't seem right. If anything, Morytania was the opposite. She remembered Reldo teaching her that Morytania used to be peaceful until vampyres took over.

'Maybe this place really is in the Wilderness. It used to be a lot more chaotic during the God Wars but now it's much calmer. That makes the first part make sense.'

She gave a great yawn and crawled out of her seat. She hadn't slept well in five days, mind too preoccupied with the riddle, but she felt like she was finally starting to get somewhere now. She'd give herself a good night of sleep as a reward.

When Rallis next woke, she came back to her desk to find Reldo reading her notes as he sipped a cup of tea.

"So you're still thinking Wilderness, are you?" he asked.

"Yeah. I just don't know where in there."

He looked at the riddle dubiously. "Are you sure this puzzle is legitimate? It almost seems dangerous with its want to lure you to that godforsaken wasteland."

Rallis nodded. "I think it is. Mr. Lantknecht didn't seem like the guy to lure people to die looking for a fake treasure."

Reldo nearly dropped his tea. "Did you say Lantknecht?"

"Yup! This hunt is for Mr. Lantknecht's treasure and I promised I'd find it!"

"You manage to get yourself involved in some incredible situations. Treasure hunting for House Lantknecht of all people." Rallis looked at him with a blank stare. "You don't remember me teaching you this, do you?" He sighed defeatedly and continued. "The Lantknecht family has borne heroes and hunters for thousands of years. They have served the realm as defenders of justice for Ages past. Their family used to be revered and respected by all, but like time does to all things great and small, their name began to grow lost to history." Something dawned on Reldo as he spoke. "Let me see that riddle again." Rallis handed it over. The man looked over it for a moment and smiled with an 'aha' as he found what he was looking for. "You see this line?" he showed Rallis. "'The servant of land?' Lantknecht literally means 'land's servant.' A servant of land with sword in hand. The location may be linked to an important swordsman of House Lantknecht."

Rallis started to grow excited alongside the librarian over this revelation. "That's pretty important! I think I know just who to ask for more information. Thank you so much for all your help, Reldo!" She bid him goodbye and ran off to Vertis' house, notes in hand.

Rallis eagerly pounded on the rotting old door until a grumpy old man with snow white hair and long silver cane greeted her. "It has not even been a week! Do not tell me you have found the blasted thing so quickly."

"Not yet, but I think I'm getting closer and I need your help!"

Vertis ushered her inside and sat her at a table. Rallis laid out her notes and explained her thoughts thus far. "This leads me to the help I need from you. Do you know anything about any important ancestor of yours that wielded a sword in the Wilderness?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. There are a few but the most important is Lord Verdigris Lantknecht." He said the name as if it held great honor. "He was my ancestor who fought in the God Wars to protect these lands and the first to ever wield the sword I seek. All I know is he was a great warrior and a great man. He died on the battlefield, leaving his sons to keep his legacy alive."

"Do you happen to know where he fell in battle?" Rallis asked. "The sword could be buried there."

"I do not. But I do know he died protecting the wounded as they fled the territory of the Wilderness. He fought off the enemy with everything he had so he could buy everyone time to escape. He saved countless lives that day at the cost of his own."

"He sounds like an amazing person," Rallis said in awe. She was a touch jealous she didn't have stories like that about her family, if she had one. Though in her opinion her adoptive father's death was just as noble and tugged a tear out of her eye thinking about it. "I imagine this took place closer to the ditch than out in deep wild. Otherwise the wounded would have too far to run and wouldn't have made it."

"Hmph, you are pretty smart for a beast."

"You saying only humans can be smart?" Rallis huffed.

"I meant no such disrespect," Vertis held up his hands defensively. "I suppose I am just amazed that after all these countless years, a talking dragon made more progress in a week than my entire family and leagues of treasure hunters and adventurers did in their whole lives."

"Just needed a new respective! Perception? Ohhh it's a big word Reldo taught me that's perfect for this, what was it?! PERSPECTIVE! Maybe you just needed a new one of those."

"Well then, Miss New Perspective, do you intend to scour the Wilderness for clues?"

"I guess so! I've got no other ideas. And I promised I'd find this for you!"

"I am starting to believe that." Vertis creaked out of his seat with a groan and shuffled over to the fireplace. He reached for something resting atop the mantle and brought it back to Rallis. It was a pure white disc of stone with a swirled carving on its face. The stone was only about as big as her palm. Rallis compared it to the painting of the knight on the wall and sure enough, it was the same swirling design. "I never knew what this was and I still do not, but this stone is as old as the riddle itself. Perhaps it may come in handy."

Rallis flipped the stone over in her hand. 'It looks like a rune. Feels different though. There's some kind of magic in this but it's not normal.' She tucked it away for safekeeping. "Thanks for the help. Hopefully next time I come back it'll be with your sword!" New info in hand, the dragon got back to work.

_______________________________________________________

Rallis kicked up piles of dirt and ash as she happily skipped through the Wilderness. The wasteland was filled with death and bandits and monsters. No sane person came here for a stroll. And yet Rallis did just that and frequently too. It wasn't like she didn't know of the dangers, but she just knew the Wilderness better than anyone else. She knew where it was safe and where it wasn't and with how many dragons called this place home, she felt safer here than she did in any city.

Contrary to popular belief, the entire Wilderness was not in fact shrouded in darkness. The areas close to the ditch were bright and sunny and continued that way for a nice enough distance. Once the land did become blanketed under the eternal shadow, the change was drastic, like a line of blackened earth separating the safer part of the Wilderness from the stretching burnt earth that carried on for miles. It was on this line that Rallis walked, hoping some sunny spot would jump out in particular. At first, she just walked the line between sun and shadow, but nothing called to her. She spent days slowly scanning the Wilderness, going deeper every passing day. She was starting to grow frustrated with all the time she'd been wasting strolling through this place. At least the piles of ash were fun to kick up and watch flutter back down to pile up again.

On one of her uneventful days of searching, she sat in the dirt in a huff. She had no luck finding any clues so far and it was really starting to get on her nerves. She decided to have a snack and crashed into the dirt, ash floating up as she flopped over. Some landed on her nose, causing her to sneeze. She sniffled as she rubbed the remaining ash off her face. "Don't go getting in my nose again. I'm sorry I kicked you. You're just so poofy."

She sneezed again and caused more ash to float into the air, perpetuating the sneezing cycle. Rallis flew into a sneezing fit as she dashed away from the cloud. One final violent sneeze had her free of the ashy curse. She covered her nose as pieces of dust, dirt, and ash floated down all around her. She had made quite a mess.

"Oops." Amidst the falling debris, a little white flower floated down and landed on the hand covering her nose. She carefully picked the flower off and looked it over in wonder. "Nothing grows this far into the Wilderness, especially not tiny flowers." She thought perhaps it was simply stuck to her clothing when she walked in, but that didn't seem right. Rallis covered her nose and made her way back into the sinking ash cloud and examined the ground. Sure enough, little white flowers poked through the surface. There weren't many but it was still surprising. The ash camouflaged them perfectly, no one would notice they were there. Rallis crawled on her hands and knees, nose to the ground, and with another dusty sneeze, cleared more ash away and revealed a small patch of tiny flowers. More sprouted up between gaps of dead dirt, like a line of dots to trace over to create a path. Once she stood up, Rallis could no longer spot any. 'Looks like I'm doing this on all fours!'

Like a dog following a scent trail, Rallis followed every white speck she thought was a flower farther into the Wilderness. The longer she crawled, the more they started to pop up. 'It really is amazing this place can still grow anything! Maybe it's starting to go back to normal after all this time.'

Focus pointed toward the ground, Rallis didn't notice the obstacle in her way until she head butted straight into it. She smacked into some old hard stone with a thud, whining as she clutched her now throbbing head. She rubbed where there was now likely to be a bump and glared at whatever dared to get in her way. She backed away when she realized the stone was a grave, and it wasn't the only one. She had wandered into an old small graveyard. Rallis brushed the dirt off her clothing and looked around.

There were many graveyards in the Wilderness from various times in history, but this one definitely seemed like the oldest. All the names on the tombstones were weathered away, and most of the stones had crumbled or broken in their old age. Some graves were only marked by piles of pebbles they were so worn down. Rallis got on her hands and knees once more and searched for the flowers. She found some, much more than before, and even tiny blades of grass poking through the dirt.

"You all may have died but now you leave something good behind." She blew the ash off a cluster of the little white blooms. They seemed to perk up now that they weren't weighed down by death. "I hope you all get to be big beautiful flowers."

A breeze picked up, not a cold sharp whip of wind common in the far north of the Wilderness, but a gentle warm one. 'Now that's unusual.' The wind tugged at her skirt, trying to take her farther into the Wilderness. Nearby in the direction the wind was pulling her was another grave, this one much more grandiose than the rest. Even from here she could see there was a statue in remembrance of someone. Rallis followed the wind and went to investigate.

The closer she drew, the more flowers she found, and this time she didn't need to crawl to find them. They were dull and hidden by all the ash, but once she brushed the years of dust away they bloomed bright and cheerful. It brought a smile to her face seeing life returning to this dead desolate place. Once she reached the fancier grave, closed buds sprouted everywhere underfoot and it was downright sunny! Rallis smiled from the unexpected warmth, wings flaring out to take in the sparse rays. Anything bright and warm like this had no place in the Wilderness, but she welcomed the oddity indeed. Rallis gently brushed some of the dust off the flowers with her tail as she looked around. The statue she saw from the graveyard was of some hero or another, she couldn't tell who. All the features of their face had been wiped away by the elements, as had any detail of their clothing or armor. They were originally holding something, but whatever that something was was gone now. The statue's hand gripped a hilt nobly held to the sky. It was probably a sword. Their other arm was completely gone and one of the legs seemed like it was ready to crumble. The statue stood upon a stone, presumably some kind of plaque detailing who this hero was, but now it was just as blank and smooth as the statue's face. A stone grave marker sat a ways behind it, but it was just as featureless.

As Rallis continued investigating, a realization hit her. She looked to the sky to find the smallest break in the blanket of shadow that hung over the Wilderness. The speck of a break was as big as a toothpick from where she stood, a small hole in the darkness that let light bleed through. When she looked back down, she could plainly see what the sun illuminated. The statue, the grave, and only the bare minimum of the surrounding area glowed with sunlight. The flowers spread all the way to the borders of the light and stopped abruptly, save the small path of them leading to the rest of the graveyard nearby. The sunlight wasn't terribly strong either. If anyone were to walk by, they would just see another nameless grave and move on, sun hidden amidst the endless darkness. It was quite the miraculous little place, and one that rang a bell in her mind.

"Here sun does fly and the dead still lie. A sunny grave. You know where the treasure is, don't you?" The statue was not inclined to answer her. "Most graves in the Wilderness get dug open from the inside as the dead turn into zombies or ankous or other monsters. I hope you really are still sleeping."

She continued to investigate, looking for any clues to the sword she sought. 'How funny my little sidetrack with flowers brings me closer to the treasure,' she thought with a smile as she looked around the statue. 'Guess it was meant to be.' The line about flowers from the riddle slapped her upside the head at the thought.

There was nothing of interest with the base of the statue, and at first glance, it seemed like the same held true for the statue itself too. There were a few holes where the stone simply began to crumble from old age, but one hole she found was much too perfect. Many chunks of the statue's torso had fallen away, but this one indent looked too precise. Rallis ran a finger inside the hole and it felt smooth as if it were carved.

'You're obviously important. But why?'

She sat down with a huff and thought. 'Alright, think. What haven't I done with the riddle yet? I found where I was supposed to go, checking off the first two lines. I found a spot with flowers, sunlight, and the dead, so that's six lines down. So what's left?'

She remembered the line about a sword in hand and checked the crumbling hilt once more. Still nothing. If the bladed part was useful, she would never find out. That part of the statue was long gone.

'Maybe that's not what's important then. Could just be a hint to let you know you're in the right place.' Rallis muttered the last two lines over and over as she paced around the flowers, careful not to trample them. "Guards peace still in death, where only pure draw breath. What does that mean?! Why is this so hard?!" She growled and jokingly flared her claws out toward the statue. "You better give me a hint or else!"

A whip of cold wind ripped through her at the remark, a shocking contrast to the warm gentleness the grave radiated. She shivered and put her claws away. "I was just kidding, I'm sorry." The sun shone brighter at her apology. 'This place officially creeps me out now! Just give me this sword and let me go!'

She felt eyes watching her after her little display. She spun around but there was nothing of interest in any direction. Just the graveyard, dead trees, and a whole lot of nothing. 'Maybe this guy is a ghost now. Guarding even in death indeed!'

After some more thinking and searching, Rallis was ready to run back to Reldo's or Vertis' to get help, even though she didn't want to. She felt like she was so close, like the treasure was right here! But she just didn't know what else to do. All she had left were two lines of a cryptic riddle and a pretty little stone sitting in her pocket. She dug out the stone with the swirled carving and flipped it around in her hands. "Do you have any answers for me, little rune?" She thought perhaps casting the spell within the stone would give her a clue, but alas no matter how hard she tried she couldn't get the magic inside to work.

Rallis was beyond skilled with magic, so the fact that she could not use the weird rune was odd indeed. It wasn't normal for a single rune to hold as much power as this one did and she had never seen the design of this one before. Well, except for the painting on Vertis' wall she hadn't seen it before.

She stopped playing with the rune. 'The painting. This symbol was on the knight's chestplate.' She ran her hand over the perfectly carved hole in the statue's chest. It was nearly the same size as the rune. "Could it really be that simple?" Carefully, Rallis slid the rune into the hole until it could go no farther. The rune glowed white and all went silent and still. Rallis held her breath and froze as she waited for something to happen. Slowly, the rest of the statue began to glow the same pale white, every crack shining like a vein of magic. A loud sudden poof blew all the ash and debris off the flowers, scattering to the sudden winds stirring up, and the ground too began to glow a pale white. The glow raced toward the blank gravestone, drawing a pattern of a shield covered in vines and flowers on its surface, and suddenly the ground shook. Rallis yelped as the force nearly knocked her off her feet. Right before her very eyes, the ground between the statue and the grave opened up, the white light cutting the ground open like a knife. After another shudder, the world returned to its stillness and all was peaceful once more. The rune popped out of the hole in the statue. Rallis caught it before it could hit the ground. She looked to the little stone, then to the hole in the ground, and jumped in the air with a giant smile.

"This has GOT to be it!" she exclaimed. "Thank you, you magical little rock! And thank you too, statue!" A breeze thanked her back. "I think I get it now. Where only pure draw breath? It's wind magic in pure essence, and it even goes into where the statue would breathe. How tricky and sneaky!" Pocketing the stone, she hopped into the hole in search of treasure.

The white glow from the rune remained to illuminate the underground treasure chamber, casting a mystical glow on the loot inside. And great Guthix below, there was loot. Rallis couldn't even form words over what she saw. Racks of weapons and armor lined the walls on stands. Tomes of magic sat in shelves just waiting to be read. Everywhere she looked was something new from ages past, quite literally Ages past. Rallis bounced around admiring it all.

"Zamorakian weapons! Armadylian bows! Guthixian robes! Armor from the Third Age! This is insane!" She dared not lay a finger on anything. It wasn't hers, after all. She simply gushed as she delved deeper, coming to a halt at the end of the room. Hung on the wall in front of the symbol of a vine entwined shield rest a sword. It shone silver and black, not a speck of dirt, rust, or grime on it, and glowed with magic. Rallis carefully pulled the weapon off its hold and looked it over with awe. "This must be what he wanted. How pretty." She strung the sword as best she could around her waist next to her whip. She smiled wide, excited to tell Vertis about what she found.

She was so lost in her discovery she hadn't noticed the footsteps behind her. The collective gasps of four people made her spin around. Three giants of men stared around the room in wonder, greedy hands ready to grab everything they could hold. A familiar slimy stick of a man stood in front of them, a new black eyepatch matching his oily onyx hair, making him look like an unwashed cutthroat of the sea. Aniza and his lackeys. They were sporting a distinct lack of gold jewelry and ugly welts marked their exposed skin.

'They must be who I felt watching me!' Rallis snarled and drew her whip. "What are you doing here?!"

Aniza didn't deign to give her an answer to her question, much more entranced by the sword at her waist. "A Third Age longsword! The holy grail of treasure! We hit the motherlode!" He was practically drooling over the sword. Rallis reached for her rune pouch. Aniza tossed a knife at the string holding it to her waist and sliced it through, pouch dumping its contents all over the floor. "None of that again. That damn fire was rather painful. Who knew just how horrible superheated gold was to wear!" The three brutes growled at Rallis, hands on their axes. She noticed the scarred skin around their fingers and wrists and necks where their jewelry used to be. Aniza was even missing his fourth finger on his left hand, presumably removed from the burn damage. "Stepping on our turf, taking what's rightfully ours, then burning us alive? You are quite the monster, aren't you? I lost an eye and a finger because of you!"

"Having four fingers isn't that bad," she remarked as she wiggled one of her four fingered hands. Aniza ignored her.

"Getting fixed up so quickly cost quite the pretty coin. What a dent in our coffers you made! But leading us to this? This I'd say is well worth it. Following you was the right thing to do!"

"You're not gonna get any of this," Rallis snarled. "It's not yours! I'm giving this all to its rightful owner and you can't stop me!"

"Oh well we were going to give it back too! For a price anyway. Sell it back, roll in all the money, then steal it back to sell again. It's so much easier than making and selling counterfeits. We'll be the richest people in the world with a haul like this."

Rallis growled. 'Stealing people's lost treasure and reselling it to them? Making fake treasures to sell the real ones off for more money? How disgusting!'

Aniza toyed with a stack of perfectly balanced throwing knives in the shape of bird feathers stacked perfectly in an open box. "This haul will certainly pay for all the damage you've done to me and set us up for life. But you know, I'm still not satisfied." He flicked a knife her way. Rallis threw up her arm in the nick of time, blade slicing into her arm as if it had just recently been sharpened. She hissed and threw it aside, hiding behind a set of mounted Third Age platemail before he could throw any more. "Don't get me wrong, this trove certainly does put a spring in my step. But no, this will not satisfy me. I know what will." He threw a knife at the stand holding the armor, severing the stand at the neck. The helm came crashing down onto Rallis' face. Before she could set the helm aside, Aniza was beside her, knives flashing in the magic light like claws. "I want your blood for what you did to me you fucking beast!"

Rallis yelped as she scurried back. Aniza was fast and she wasn't prepared. His next knife found its mark in her left shoulder. He stepped on her tail as she tried to get up and run, making her howl. He pounced on her, bringing out his own twisted blade and tried to stab Rallis in the eye. She dropped her whip and grabbed the blade with her hand, slicing through her palm. It hurt horribly but it was better than having the thing jabbed into her eye! Rallis pulled her legs up and clawed at the man, talons ripping through his clothes like paper and giving him a mark to remember across his stomach. He screamed and collapsed, arms crossed over his abdomen as he tried to stop the pain and bleeding. Rallis kicked him away and jumped up, grabbing her whip and gunning for the exit. The three golden boys were in the way, axes drawn.

"Kill that bitch!" Aniza cried as he tried to pry himself from the floor.

The first of the three brought his axe down, shattering the tiled floor where Rallis had just stood. The second tried the same and struck similar nothingness. While she dodged those two, the third smacked her with the flat of his axe and sent her flying into the wall and mounted equipment. Something cracked when she hit the wall, and she couldn't tell if it was her wing or the stone itself. She toppled onto an array of weaponry, all biting into her as she fell. She flopped to the floor bleeding, the various weapons leaving their marks. The golden trio loomed over her, ready to chop her head off.

Before they could bring their axes down, Rallis scooped some of her discarded runes over with her whip, stones skittering across the floor. She slammed her bleeding hand onto them and at once a fire came billowing forth. The three screamed and staggered back, terrified of what that blaze did and could do again. Rallis dove through the fire and between their legs, leaping up the steps and out of the treasure filled tomb. She heard a muffled 'after her' as she ran back toward the statue.

Rallis' hands were shaking as she fished the rune key out. She nearly dropped it as she heard the stomping of three huge angry men close behind her. She quickly slammed the rune into its slot and breathed a sigh of relief as she saw the entrance to the vault slowly begin to close as Aniza staggered out, just as she hoped. Her sigh choked into a scream as an axe swooped right toward her neck. Rallis ducked, feeling the displaced air of the swing right next to her ear. One of the golden trio tried to kill her, his axe now lodged into the statue's side. He growled and groaned as he yanked it free, bits of stone flying everywhere. The force knocked the rune loose, and Rallis grabbed it and ran. She could hear the four of them screaming and running behind her, so she ran faster. Soon the only sound around her was the eerie silence of the Wilderness.

_______________________________________________________________________

Rallis slammed on Vertis' door, panically looking behind her every second he didn't answer. She was ever so thankful to hear his grumbling as he shuffled over to answer. He opened the door, same gruff grumpy countenance greeting her, but once he glanced at the sword at her side, his face quickly melted into a look of disbelief. Rallis all but threw the sword into his arms. "Admire it later! Awful treasure hunters are after it!"

As if on cue, Rallis whined as something sharp stabbed into her shoulder, another one of the feather-shaped knives from the treasure trove. She spun around to find the Fortune Finders, out of breath and furious. The golden trio cornered Rallis and Vertis, leaving inside the house as the only place to run and Aniza stomped forward, eyes feral and blade drawn. "YOU BITCH! YOU LOCKED US OUT! YOU WILL HAND OVER THAT KEY RIGHT NOW, AND THE SWORD TOO, OR YOU DIE HERE AND NOW!"

"No!" she protested, whip ready to go. "That treasure isn't yours and the sword has finally returned home! Leave before I make you!"

Aniza looked ready to leap at her like a rabid dog. Vertis cleared his throat and stepped in front of the dragon. She whined in protest, not wanting him to get hurt, but he assured her he would be fine with a hand on her shoulder. Aniza almost drooled over the sight of the beautiful sword again as Vertis stepped forward.

"Interested in this, are you?" Vertis said as he held the sword up. "I can understand. Its beauty is spellbinding. I know it held me captive under its curse for all these years. I am afraid I can not part with it, however. You will simply have to try elsewhere."

"No, I think I'll try here and now," Aniza snarled. "That treasure vault yours? Your mutt friend seemed to think she could keep us out and that wasn't very nice. All that wealth, it would be rude not to share. And I know exactly which part of that hoard I want. Hand over that sword or I'll kill you both!"

Vertis scowled. "How the youth today have fallen to greed. Disgusting. You will leave before I summon the Guard and have you all hanged."

"Do you have any idea who you're talking to, old man?! We are the Fortune Finders! The world's greatest treasure hunters. When we set our sights on something, we don't leave until it's ours! Who do you think you are to talk to us like this?!"

Vertis stepped off his porch, facing down the four like a knight on the battlefield. "Who am I?!" He slammed his cane into the ground and it glowed a bright green. "You ask who am I with such an unruly tone?!" He held the sword to the sky with his other hand, the blade shimmering a similar vibrant green. "I am Vertis Lantknecht, last of my family of swordsmen!" The sword grew brighter. "Mages!" The cane did as well. "Treasure hunters!" The glow spread to the ground. "And protectors of the land! And I will not tolerate such insolence from despicable whelps like you!" With a mighty roar, Vertis swung the sword down, a wave of green light slicing through the Fortune Finders and pushing them back. From the glowing grass around the base of his cane, vines grew and shot forth to wrap around the four staggered men. The vines dug into their legs, thorns tearing through their clothing, and forced them to the ground. Vertis stalked over, looming over them like an executioner. He stabbed his cane into the ground once more and vines grew all around them like a prison. The four of them screamed as the thorny vines bit into every exposed bit of flesh they could, shackling them like convicts. "And you would do well to never forget what such insolence earns you."

The vines loosened and the Fortune Finders took that as their cue to run. Aniza ran screaming like a coward, not waiting for his three lackeys to catch up. They bled a trail toward Varrock, disappearing into the distance. The vines burrowed back into the ground and the glow faded. Vertis leaned against his cane, ready to collapse. Rallis hurried over and helped him inside. She sat him down in his chair, old man melting into the hardened cushions with a sigh. She took his sword and cane and leaned them up next to his chair.

"Are you okay?" she worried.

"Yes, I am fine," Vertis groaned. "I am just too old to be pulling stunts like that. You are the one bleeding. I should be asking if you are the one who needs help."

"I'm fine, don't worry about me. It's just some scratches. But what you did was crazy!" Rallis exclaimed. "I've never seen someone make plants grow like that! What kinda magic does that?"

"The Guthixian kind." He pulled his cane over and showed it to her more closely. He popped the top off to reveal what Rallis had originally thought was a dagger, but it was actually a wand, though it definitely looked sharp enough to cut. The rest of the cane was engraved with small odd runes, easily missable if you weren't up close and looking for them. "Not everyone in my family were swordsmen. Magic is just as useful, if not more so. Though it certainly is tiring to use. I have not had to use this thing as anything more than a cane in probably 25 years." He pulled the sword into his lap and delicately ran a hand over it, as if touching it too hard might reveal itself as an illusion. "But to get this back, I would say being a little tired is worth it."

"I'm glad you finally have it back," Rallis smiled. "You should see the rest of the stuff I found. It's like a crazy vault of wonder in the Wilderness!"

"I would certainly love to, though maybe another day. I am in no rush." He smiled at the sword. "This was really all I wanted. It feels as if my family is finally at peace with this returning home. I am curious as to how and why it ended up hidden. And in the Wilderness, you say it was? It seems your hunch was correct. What a mystery. Would you tell me how you found it?"

"Of course!"

Rallis told him of her adventure and once she has finished, the two of them placed the sword above the fireplace where it belonged. Vertis pushed every reward imaginable her way, but she accepted nothing, just happy to help. Though when he did offer her a beautiful new purple velvet rune pouch to replace her broken discarded one, she accepted. Days later, she led him to the crypt of treasure and the old man's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. With much help and many trips, they cleaned the place out and brought everything back home. Rallis was happy to find the flowers growing brighter and bigger, and even brought some of her own to lay by the statue's feet. Vertis once again offered her anything she wanted from the vault, but she continued to decline.

Over the next few weeks, Rallis helped Vertis sell nearly everything he had no desire for nor the space to store. He had only wanted the family sword, not all the treasure from his family's past. He held no love for their treasure hunted hoard, and he had no one to pass the generations of gear down to anyway. An uncountable amount of money began to pile up, growing ever bigger as time went by. It didn't take long for rich collectors to clear out his stock. Once he had stowed the money away with no idea of what to do with it, Rallis had the bright idea of using some of the funds to fix his rotting house up. He argued there was no point seeing as how once he died there would be no one to live in it, but Rallis shushed his complaints and renovations began, Rallis herself even playing a big part in fixing the place up. In a matter of days, the old decrepit mansion turned into a thing of charm and beauty. No more holes or rotting wood or chipping paint or dead plants in sight. The most rotten ugly place in Edgeville turned into the most lovely in the blink of an eye. Rallis personally fixed the old rocking chair on the porch, carving symbols of vines into the wood and making it beautiful. By the time everything was done, Rallis proudly showed off all the hard work that had been done. Vertis was nearly brought to tears.

"It looks like it did in the paintings of old," he said wistfully. "I am grateful you made this happen, for everything you have done."

"All I did was find some treasure and help fix a house," Rallis smiled. "I'm just here to make people happy!"

"You are quite the treasure yourself, dragon," he chuckled. "I am glad the tale of my family's lost treasure ended with you. Honorable people such as yourself seem to be a rare breed nowadays, especially with my own kind." Rallis smiled at the praise. He handed her a sealed envelope, held shut with the Lantknecht seal. "It is because of that I feel this decision is the right one."

Rallis almost didn't take it. "I told you I don't need payment!"

"And does it feel like there is money in here?" Vertis said with a sly grin. "Why no, I dare say it is nothing more than papers! It is just a letter from an appreciative friend!" Rallis slipped a claw under the wax seal and he grabbed her hand. "No, not yet. Wait until you go home. Reading a letter from someone in front of them is bad manners."

Curious, Rallis tucked the letter away to read later. They talked a bit longer until it was time to say goodbye. Vertis watched her go from his new beautiful rocking chair with a smile and soon found himself drifting off as the sun set.

During the time since Vertis scared off the Fortune Finders, Rallis hadn't seen them come back to try and spark another fight. She wondered just what had happened to them and wandered down to the Champions' Guild to ask around. She heard different stories from everyone, they raided a trove haunted by a ghost and it killed them, man-eating plants made them disappear without a trace, a crazy wizard turned them into frogs, all crazy ideas that only vaguely captured part of the whole story. Either way, it seemed they hadn't shown their face back at the Guild and likely never would again. That brought some peace to her, knowing those bullies wouldn't be stealing from anyone again. Curiosity satisfied, Rallis made her way back to Reldo's to crash, far too tired to make the trip home.

Rallis fiddled with the letter Vertis gave her as she lay on the floor of the Varrock Castle library, ready to sleep. He said to wait until she was home to open it, but she wanted to read it now. She slipped a claw under the seal and flipped the envelope open. Inside was a letter, just like he said, but inside the letter were a few more pages of parchment. They fell onto the floor as she opened the letter. She piled them into her lap, sure to look them over afterward. Rallis scowled at the writing of the letter. It was very swirly and fancy and she could hardly read it. Reldo had tried teaching her to read and write like this, but he gave up after she got so angry she burned the practice sheets to cinders. Cursive, she remembered he called it. Trying her best to decode the swirls from the letters, she began to read.

"Dear Rallis,

I would like to offer my sincerest gratitude to you once more for everything you have done for me. I have never had a way with words, so I apologize if I can not describe how much your help means to me. I have not felt so happy or fulfilled since I was a boy; it is as if I have been given new life for however long that may be. Alongside my gratitude, I feel compelled to reward you in at least some way. I understand you declined anything I thought to give to you and you have no desire for a monetary reward, but that is why I feel you are the one this should be given to. There is no one left to my family, they have all since passed long ago, and as such I have no one to leave this newfound wealth with. My family already has more than one person could ever use, I do not need the coin from my ancestors' plundering. So I burden you with it. If you truly have no desire to keep any of it for yourself, give it to those in need. You have a good head on your shoulders and a kind heart, I am sure you could change people's lives for the better with this. I have left instructions on how to access your reward on the pages held within this letter. Thank you again, dragon, and may life treat you well.

Sincerely, Vertis Lantknecht, Head of House Lantknecht"

Rallis sighed at the note with a smile. "I told you I didn't want anything. But alright, I'll use it to help people. How much money did you even leave me?" She folded open the other notes and looked them over. One held instructions on where the coin was stored and how to access it, another with a formal transfer to her name, and other such documents of the like. On the bottom of one paper held a number. At first, Rallis thought perhaps the number was an account number or something of the like since it was so long, but then she noticed the symbol next to it denoting the value as cash. She had to rub her eyes and look again, sure she was mistaken. "Numbers can get that high?! That's ten digits!" She didn't even know what the number was called it was so big. She had been taught millions but not whatever came next. From how the stack of notes she held were worded, this number was only a part of what Vertis had overall, and it boggled Rallis' mind. How anyone could have this much of anything was insane.

She folded the papers back into the envelope, tucked them away, and stared at the ceiling in shock. She couldn't even begin to process what she held in her hands, and she was too tired to even think about trying. All that did register through her mind was a snicker as she realized just by being nice and helpful she managed to find treasure worth more than anything the Fortune Finders ever did or ever would. She would have loved to rub it in their faces. She fell asleep the richest dragon in the world, thinking about all the ways she could help people with such an insane amount of money.

#oc tag #my writes #runescape #osrs

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victorluvsalice · 5 years

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AU Thursday: Londerland Bloodlines -- Prophetic Nightmare, Take 2!

Hey everyone -- remember the fic snippet Prophetic Nightmare from my Londerland Bloodlines AU? I do because I was looking at it recently, thanks to being back into said AU because of the recent sequel announcement. And while I was looking at it, I thought, “I really ought to edit this now that I’ve changed the AU around so Bonejangles, aka Sam Thatcher, is part of the group after the Giovannni raid.”

So I did! What’s the point of being a writer if you can’t improve your old fics? So today I present to you the updated version of “Prophetic Nightmare,” where Victor has a pretty intense dream about the possible fate of his World of Darkness family. As per the first version of the fic, I’m going to warn for blood, gore, dismemberment, and eye trauma. I’m not lying when I say it’s fairly intense -- there is a LOT of horror in the beginning. Fortunately, it also keeps the trip to Victor’s happy place at the end if you need a breather after all the gore. Hope you like this new, “canon-compliant” version of the fic!

"I'm home, everyone! Who wants – hello?"

Victor shifted his grocery bags, peering between them into the apartment. To his surprise, the living room was empty, as was the attached kitchen. "Emily? Lizzie? Sam? Wasn't there anything good on TV?"

No response. Victor frowned. It wasn't like them to just vanish like this. . .had they gone out for some reason after he'd left? But he couldn't see a note anywhere. . .he glanced up toward the loft. "Alice? Are you up?"

Silence. Now thoroughly puzzled, he set the bags on the counter bar, then headed upstairs. The bedroom door was closed, and the little office nook was empty. Victor bent over the computer and wiggled the mouse. The screen came to life, showing the six of them lined up on the couch – Lizzie and Sam each perched atop an arm, and him, Emily, Victoria, and Alice crammed into the middle. He grinned as he took in Emily's enthusiastic wave to the camera, Victoria's shy, almost embarrassed smile, and Alice's sparkling eyes as she hooked her arm around his shoulders. Just knowing a single one of these lovely ladies was a privilege. And here he was, the boyfriend of all three. With an honorary older sister and brother in the bargain. And to think I once thought moving here was a mistake. I really am the luckiest man in the world.

Unfortunately, he couldn't just stand here and stare at his favorite ladies all night – he had a mystery to solve. He opened up the "LaCroix Foundation Secure Intranet" application. "15 e-mails – 3 unread" appeared under the title bar, in all their DOS-y green glory. So Alice, at least, had to be here – she never left the haven without reading her e-mails. Perhaps she hadn't yet risen? But the sun had been sinking below the horizon when he'd arrived back. . .surely she'd be up by now, driven to seek out her first drink of the night? Frowning, Victor put the computer back to sleep and went over to the bedroom door. "Alice?" he called, knocking. "Everything all right?"

Still nothing. Victor opened the door, now thoroughly concerned. "Alice?" he repeated, flicking on the light switch. "Al – ALICE!"

His hand clamped itself over his mouth, holding in a surge of horrified bile. The bedroom was painted in blood and gore, red dripping off the walls and body parts flung carelessly every which way. A leg, dangling over the edge of the bed. A hand, saluting him from the top of the dresser. An arm, lying right at his feet. . .and, sitting on the pillow, a very familiar head, watching him as he struggled to keep down his lunch. No. . .no no nonono –

Dark sister, not dark mistress!

Victor blinked, then forced himself to step over the arm for a closer look at the head. It gaped up at him, an expression of agonized horror on its beautiful features. But – the hair was a different shade of brown, with a fringe of bangs falling across the forehead. The lips were a trifle fuller than the ones he was used to kissing, the nose turned up slightly more. And the eyes were a clear blue instead of a bright green, the sky on a summer's day instead of the grass. The voice was right – not his dearest beloved. Yet someone almost as bad. "Oh no. . .Lizzie. . ."

Tears welled up in his eyes as his fingers traced the contours of her cheek. "Oh Lizzie. . .who did this to you?" he whispered. "I thought. . .didn't we get rid of all the local Giovanni? Who else would – would want this?" He sniffled, wiping his face with his sleeve. "Oh God, I'm so sorry. . .oh, Sam's going to be heartbroken. . .and Alice too. . ."

If they're still alive.

Victor's blood went icy. The whole apartment was silent as a tomb. And just because it wasn't Alice here didn't mean – he tore open the door to the master bathroom, hoping against hope there wasn't a similar scene inside.

There was – but again, it wasn't Alice's face that greeted him. Instead, Emily's broken and bloody visage stared up at him from under the toilet, the rest of her body scattered across the floor. Looking into those dulled blue eyes, seeing them stare sightlessly back at him – dead in a way she'd never been, even during her time in the Underworld – it was more than he could bear. He dropped to his knees, one hand tangled in her freshly-dyed locks, the other gathering up one of her discarded arms – the left, the one he'd first seen as a skeletal "branch" back in Burtonsville, the one that had accepted his ring and his hand and pulled him into this mad, wonderful world beyond human understanding – and cradling it to his chest, weeping openly. "No. . .no. . .Emily. . ."

SLAM!

Victor jumped, head whipping around toward the noise. What – was that the front door? Did I leave it open? I don't think I did. . .and I don't think it would close on its own either. Oh God, is Victoria here? No, I can't let her see this. . . Carefully setting Emily's abused parts on the floor, he hurried out onto the balcony. "Vi – VICTORIA!"

It was indeed Victoria downstairs – or, rather, what was left of her. His living love was lying on the floor of the apartment, skin even paler than his, throat torn open almost to her spine. Victor stumbled his way to the stairs –

And promptly tripped over Sam, flopped across the steps like a rag doll. His legs stuck out at odd angles, and the back of his head was caved in. One arm reached toward Victor in a pathetic postmortem plea for help. Victor turned away, pressing a hand against his heaving stomach. All gone. . .all of them, gone. . .he forced himself past Sam's still corpse, to where Victoria lay. Her bright blue eyes stared past him, full of fossilized terror. He collapsed next to her, sobbing. Why? he mentally screamed. Why? We made it past the Giovanni! We hid ourselves from the Prince! We were happy! We were – we – I – I had so little time with them. . .

Dark mistress still lives, the voice in his head whispered, tone urgent. You must find dark mistress!

Victor lifted his head, touching his chest. Yes. . .Alice still lived. He could still feel her in his veins – weak, faded, but – there. Not broken, not gone. He still wasn't entirely alone. Not yet. But where was she? There was no way she was responsible for this chaos, and no way she would have let it come to pass if she'd been at home. . .he scrambled upright, flinging himself at the front door and throwing it open so hard he broke it off its hinges.

An alleyway stretched out before him, longer than any he'd ever seen. He blinked, then groaned. Oh no. . .not now! he scolded the voice in his head. I thought I'd lucked out just hearing you!

Not me, the voice replied, sounding distinctly confused. Not my luck.

Victor blinked again, staring at the impossible concrete below him. What? But – but if it's not you, then why –

Dark mistress! the voice cried, and Victor snapped his head up to see a figure dressed in blue, long dark hair streaming out behind her, running down the other end of the alley. In pursuit of whoever had inflicted such carnage on those they loved? Fleeing same? Victor didn't know and didn't care. All that mattered was that she was there, she was alive –

and he wasn't going to let anything happen to her. He took off down the street, sorrow and confusion subsumed under a gush of rage. You took my loves, he hissed mentally at the invisible culprit behind the slaughter. You took my family. You took almost everything I had that made life worth living here. But you will not get her. You will not get the one I have left. I am going to find you, and I'm going to tear your heart out and feast on your sweet blood. I'm going to commit as close to diablerie as a human can! I am going to hunt you down and suck you – "Ooof!"

Something leapt on him from behind, dragging him to the pavement like a wolf taking down a deer. Victor fought against its grip, arms and legs flying, but its strength was ten times his, and it easily pinned him to the concrete. "Let me go!" he screamed, reaching toward the far-away figure of his beloved. "Alice! Alice!!"

But she was already gone, almost as if she'd never been. Moments later, so was the light. Panic gnawed at Victor's mind as the alley plunged into deep shadow, leaving naught but the vague suggestion of walls and floor. No. . .please no. . .I-I don't like the dark. . .

Claws caressed his face, a painful parody of Alice's hand against his cheek. "What a yummy little bloodbag," a voice rasped in his ear. "We might keep you a while." Fangs raked his neck, leaving stinging welts in their wake. Victor elbowed the creature, but it didn't even notice. "Let's make you a proper drink, why don't we?"

Victor had exactly one second to wonder what the hell that meant. Then suddenly his eyes were on fire as the claws dug into them, and the darkness deepened to an endless impenetrable void, and there was wetness on his cheeks but it wasn't tears and he couldn't see he couldn't see he couldn't see no no no no no no – "NOOOOOOO!"

He jerked bolt upright, eyes flying open – and thank God, they were there to open, he could see the little lamp glowing in the corner of Alice's bedroom, but his sockets still hurt his neck still hurt everything still hurt and he was afraid to move, afraid that if he got up and switched on the light he'd find himself staring at another disembodied head and no no no he couldn't go through that again once was enough –

"Victor?"

A hand touched his knee, and he looked down. Alice was peering up muzzily beside him, her expression sluggishly concerned. "What–"

"Victor!"

The door banged open, leaving him and Alice blinking as the light beyond intruded on their darkness. Moments later, it was shrouded again as Emily, Lizzie, Sam, and Victoria crowded the threshold, each trying to be the first get inside. "We heard a scream – what happened?" Emily asked, finally making it to the front.

"Are you both all right?" Victoria added, twisting her hands together.

"I think you woke the whole building with that cry," Lizzie said, glancing behind her.

"Yeah – Jesus, Victor, didn't know you could reach those high notes!" Sam agreed, scratching under his hat. "Seriously, you okay?"

Victor opened and closed his mouth, unable to do much more than stare. They were here. Everyone was here. Everyone was here, and whole, and alive, and – and – and –

The tears were pouring down his face before he even realized he was crying. He curled up on himself, pressing his face into his knees as he sobbed. He couldn't help it. He was so, so glad to see them all okay. . .but the images of Emily and Lizzie's torn-apart bodies, Sam's mutilated corpse, Victoria's violated throat, Alice's back vanishing into the black danced before his mind's eye, tormenting him with the possibility that it could all still be true. . .can't let it happen can't let it happen I can't lose them can't lose them. . . .

A cool arm wrapped itself around his shoulders. "Hey, hey, it's all right," Alice said, voice still a little foggy. "It's all right. We're all here. You just had a nightmare, okay? You're all right."

"Please don't cry, Victor," Emily added, settling down beside him with a squeak of the bedsprings. The others crowded around them, hands rubbing his back or stroking his hair or just laying comfortingly on his arm or leg. "Everything's okay. It was just a dream."

Just a dream. . .he managed a nod, sniffling and gulping down air. He knew that. Knew that the hell he'd just gone through was blessedly unreal. But the biting, gaping sorrow of seeing his friends – his family, his loves – torn apart before him, and the sheer, unadulterated terror of the monster in the dark clawing at his face held him tight, refusing to let him wiggle free. Just a dream, he told himself. Just a dream. . .but God, it felt so real. . .

"Victor." Suddenly Alice's voice was all command. "Look at me a moment."

Victor raised his head. His vision was cloudy with tears, but Alice's green gaze pierced him straight through, holding him still. "Is it all right if I – make you calm down a bit?"

Victor's brow furrowed. Make him. . .then he remembered Santa Monica, pain forgotten in a rush of sweet elixir, and an examination cubicle transforming into his childhood bedroom. "L-like in the clinic?" She nodded. "Y-yes, please." Anything to stop this agony.

Her hand cradled the back of his head. "You're in a safe place, Victor," she said, voice echoing across his skull and blocking out all other sound. "A place where you feel completely comfortable. A place that makes you happy, makes you calm. A place where nothing can hurt you. You're safe there, Victor. You can relax."

The world flashed purple – and just like that, the walls around him were gone, replaced by trees. Victor wiped his eyes and looked around. The six of them were now sitting on a mossy log in the middle of a forest, pines and oaks and birches stretching up to a bright blue sky. Beneath their feet was a layer of needles and old leaves, interspersed here and there with patches of stubby grass and little clumps of bluebells, growing in the dappled light that reached the ground. A stream gurgled away happily nearby, winding its way through the wood, and a robin sang a cheery song on some high branch. Victor sighed deeply, shoulders slumping as as the tension drained out of him. Yes. . .he was safe here. This place, this world – this was all his own. Not even the horrors of his own dreaming mind could reach him while he sat on this log. Especially not while surrounded by the people he loved. He cuddled into Alice, smiling. "Thanks."

She stroked his hair, smiling back. "My pleasure."

Sam looked between them with a puzzled frown. "Okay, guessin' that was one of your party tricks, Alice. . ."

"Is this the same power you used to make Augustus see centipedes all over him?" Victoria asked.

"Yes, though obviously Victor got something rather nicer," Alice said with a tiny smirk. "What are you seeing? I'm not actually privy to what's going on in your head when I use this."

"A forest," Victor told her. "Kind of like the one near Burtonsville, but less – gray." He glanced up at the sky. "It's daytime, but don't worry, we're sitting in the shade."

Alice snorted. "Good. I think me bursting into flames would be against the purpose of this little mental trip."

#londerland bloodlines #fanfic #tw: gore #tw: violence #tw: death #tw: eye trauma #okay I kinda put Victor through the wringer with this one #probably was a less horrific way for him to be warned in a dream that he and his loved ones are in danger #for those confused about what's going on: Alice is a Malkavian #and one of their clan hats is insight and occasional prophetic flashes through the madness #Victor as Alice's ghoul shares in some of this #he hears a voice that whispers advice sometimes #and occasionally has dreams like these warning him of stuff #in this case that his loved ones are likely to be killed #and him turned into a blinded Sabbat blood doll if they don't skedaddle out of LA #not a very effective way to pass the message as Victor's too shaken up to properly understand #but once he tells Alice the contents of his dream SHE'LL get it so #felt good to give this another polish #part of me wants to do all the Londerland Bloodlines stuff now as you might expect #I shall endeavor to focus on Secundus 2 #but stuff from this might become a regular Saturday fic thing for me #(since that's my break day from my usual project)#queued

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wizardsnwookies · 7 years

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Campaign Diary- FOC101217

The evening crowd at Zahn’s Cantina had just started to roll in, and the “Kessel Five” sat at their small booth in the back digesting the job information Charmer had just unloaded on them.

“Soooo, what are we doing about the droid job? I mean, didn’t we kill two of them?” Rugor started down at the bowl of protein in front of him, pushing lumps to the side with his spoon.

“Three, actually.” Vrssl nodded turning over the small holo projector in his hand. It was the only piece of physical information they would get on the jobs, and even that was born out of necessity. Holo images beat physical descriptions any day of the week.

“The female has my frequency though. So, maybe she’ll contact us?”

“Maybe, as for the others, I wonder if we can call Nileen and see if someone on Siskeen can pick up the scraps for us.”

“Weren’t they wanted functional?” Rugor raised the collection of scar-tissue that was his eye brow.

“Sure, but they didn’t specify the level of functionality did they?” Vrssl smiled. Vagueries and semantics made their job all the easier. “Speaking of which, I have something I want to run by you guys.”

Kara and Graalbar, who had up until that point been focusing on their meal and drinks raised their attentions.

“I want to put heuristic processors in the battle droids.”

Kara smiled at this, gently nodding. She had been working with droids for a long time, but she had been observing Vrssl and his work on the battle droids since Siskeen and she had to admit she was impressed with his work.

“Ok, I don’t know what that is.” Rugor shrugged.

“It’s the difference between a Protocol droid and a GNK unit. These are early issue Trade Federation designs that were worked on a hive mind server. With a heuristic processor they’ll be able to think for themselves, give them the ability to problem solve if there’s an obstacle between them and their goal.”

“What about the arm cannons?” Kara let Vrssl do his thing usually, but she couldn’t help but speak up on this issue. “Someone sees those and we’re slagged.”

“I’ll rig them to deploy from inside the exoskeleton.”

“Ok, but these are still clone war era assassin droids. They’re going to draw some attention. How do we get by that?”

Vrssl thought for a moment, she raised a decent point. There was a difference between walking around with pistol openly strapped to your hip and casually strolling around with a mortar gun on your back.

“We’ll write a shell program. Something that will run on top of their default systems. We can make one a protocol droid and the other...I dunno, an analytics bot?”

“Sounds good to me. Let’s do it.”

---

“Aw slag.” Rugor swore and set the data pad down on the table in front of them, spinning it around so everyone on the other side could see as he read aloud. “Shailian Heights is the peak of comfort of luxury for even the most discerning traveler. The favored apartment complex for imperial officers and storm troopers planet-side, our facility boasts many fine amenities and blah blah blah...”

GROOOOOWRK. Rugor still hand’t learned to speak Shriwook, but he could tell the wookie next to him shared his frustration just by the inflection. This “simple repossession” was turning out to be a bigger pain than he anticipated.

Local scumbag dealer sold a luxury air-speeder a few days ago. Now he has someone who is willing to pay twice for it, and instead of buying it back from the current owner he figures he’ll double his profit by arranging a theft. Just an average day on Smuggler’s Moon. Just one problem. The current owner, is Numb Nibn, academy graduate and “honest imperial” some are calling the unconfirmed third candidate in the race for planetary representative.

“If we get into the security room we can probably make things easier on us. Pose as a maintenance team maybe?” Vrssl pushed back the datapad and Rugor immediately scooped it up and began tapping.

“Maybe if we’re lucky the blueprints will be stored on the Hall of Records cloud server.” Another frown indicated that was not the case.

“Try searching for imperial properties in the area.” Vrssl leaned forward, his brow furrowing in sudden realization. “If he’s here, it’s got to be in an official capacity somehow. If he graduated the academy, I doubt he’s pulling stormtrooper duty at the outpost.”

“Got it. Some kind of Academy remote Office. Enlistment and registrars offices mostly.”

GRAWR ROOOOWK!

“Probably a good idea.” Vrssl nodded before looking over at Kara. “Can you get us a speeder for the day? Something non-descript, sounds like we’re going on a stake-out.”

---

Graalbar grumbled in the back seat of the speeder, his knees up against his chin. Obviously they weren’t likely to get something large enough for wookies, but he’d at least appreciate the front seat where he could have a little more leg room. He understood of course, he was the muscle, not the brains nor the pilot. Still, though.

GROOOOWK.

“Sorry, but there’s nothing nearby that wouldn’t be inconspicuous. Until he moves, we’re stuck in the speeder.” Vrssl gazed lazily out the window. He knew how Graalbar felt. The cafe across from the apartment building was far more comfortable for a stakeout. They managed to arrive early enough to have a decent breakfast before Numb returned from his morning jog around the block and disappeared into the lobby.

After what they could only assume was a trip to the refresher and a change of clothes a sparkling white speeder pulled out of the parking hanger half-way up the building and turned into the morning traffic. From then on, the four of them had been crammed in the speeder rental Kara had procured for them. They had followed him to the Academy Offices in the metropolitan center of Shail where he handed off his speeder to the valet on the roof before disappearing to the turbolifts. That was roughly 8 hours ago, since then they had only seen him once more around noon to grab a small bite from a street vendor before heading back inside.

“Hey. There he is.” Rugor straightened up in the pilot’s seat and turned on the repulsers, pointing to the familiar figure walking to the valet booth with ticket in hand.

GRONK ROWWR. Rugor couldn’t be sure, but he guessed Graalbar had said something of the likes of “about time.”

Carefully, their own pale green speeder pulled into traffic a few paces behind the white luxury model and followed. With the sun setting between skyrises, traffic began to build around them. Rush hour on Smuggler’s Moon. They pushed deeper into the metropolitain area before Numb began to descend once again to ground level and pulling towards what appeared to be a restaurant with a glowing red sign that read “23.”

“Subtle.” Vrssl scoffed as Rugor slowed to find an inconspicuous spot across the street.

“What?”

“A human’s only restaurant.”

“How can you tell?”

“23, the number of chromosome pairs in the human species.”

“That son of a bitch.” Rugor was not commenting about the exclusivity of the clientele. He nodded his head toward the white luxury speeder as it pulled into a spot marked for the disabled, placing an Imperial Priority parking tag on the inside dash before exiting.

“Alright, that’s it.” Vrssl unbuckled himself from the seat in back. “I’m doing this right here. Keep the speeder running and be ready just in case things go south. Graalbar, think you can give me a distraction?”

Graalbar grinned.

---

“I AM HUNGRY.”

“I’m sure you are, but you can’t eat here. Okay?” The doorman at 23 was obviously flustered, not only did he never expect to see a full grown wookie in person, he never dreamed one would come strolling up to the human’s only establishment and demand to be let in.

“I AM HUNGRY.” Graalbar put on his best look of confusion and continued to press the buttons on his voxbox. The tinny voice had no tone or inflection to it, but he could up the level of irritation by pressing in as quick succession as he could. “I NEED ASSISTANCE. I AM HUNGRY.”

“I...No. You have to leave. Now.” He was getting frustrated now, desperately trying to wave his arms in such a manner as to communicate what he was saying as universally as possible. He was used to not being able to speak alien languages, but usually they would understand basic well enough.

“I NEED ASSISTANCE. I AM HUNGRY.”

Vrssl allowed himself a satisfied smile before creeping through the forming crowd. The commotion at the door was starting to gain attention from both in and outside the restaurant. A hostess was brought out to help the doorman, but from the look on her face she was just as baffled as to what to do as he was.

With the distraction in place, Vrssl reached the luxury speeder easily. Despite his short stature he managed to strain on his toes just enough to slide his slender fingers between the weather stripping and transparasteel window on the driver’s side. Slowly he added pressure downward, as evenly as he could. He wasn’t worried about breaking the window, but the-

SNAP!

The window disappeared inside the door and Vrssl nearly fell over. While the window was made of transparasteel, the gear mechanism that slid it up and down into place was not obviously. Oh well, easy fix. He’ll worry about it later. Reaching inside he opened the door and slid underneath the dash, pulling off the access panel and plunging his hands wrist deep in wires. It had been a while since he had hot-wired something, but you know what they say, it’s like riding a speeder bike...

“You hear that? The troopers are on their way. You need to leave or you’ll be in big trouble.” The female was far more firm in tone, and Vrssl could hear her from inside the car. Better hurry.

“Hey, friend.” Graalbar felt a hand on his arm and looked over to see a small Gand speaking in perfect Shriwook. “Do you understand basic? That place is human’s only. They called the imperials on you, you need to leave.”

“What do you mean ‘human’s only?’“ Graalbar paused long enough to cast his eyes towards the luxury speeder. Still parked. He needed to drag this out as long as he can. “That’s an outrage! That’s discrimination!!!”

RAWR GRAAAAAAGH ROOOOOOOOOORK

While the Gand and Vrssl and anyone who spoke Shriwook heard a very spirited, if not a little rambling, speech on species equality the rest of the crowd simply saw a rather enraged looking meter tall wookie stomping in place and waving his powerful arms. From inside the restaurants human faces were now pressed up against the windows looking rather worried, and some even passed by the retreating hostess and doorman as they made their escape outside. One of which was Numb Nibn.

Numb paid his bill and grabbed one last bite of his meal before exiting the 23. The hairy alien outside had turned his appetite, and from the looks of things the troopers would be coming for him soon enough. If he didn’t leave now, he would be held up making witness statements for the next hour or so. Let the bucketheads deal with the carpet, that’s their job. He had more important things to do.

He brushed past the crowd outside that had started to thin as soon as the mention of imperials were made. Reaching for his fob he paused at the door and furrowed his brow.

“Did I leave the window open?” He couldn’t remember. It had been a long day of paperwork. His placement was not quite finalized so here he was stuck on this ball with a pen in his hand. Top of his class, he should be out cleaning up the Empire from the abusers like the Moff. Corruption like that was why the Empire rose to power to begin with. If they were no better than the Old Republic, than what was the point?

Shaking his head clear he slipped inside and closed the door. Just as he noticed the bundle of wires dangling by his shins, he felt cold steel against the back of his head.

“Don’t move, and don’t say a word.” Vrssl gave his voice a bit gravel to it to make himself more imposing. His species weren’t that naturally intimidating after all. “Put your hands on the wheel, slowly.”

Numb obeyed, fuming. He could see the troopers arriving outside now. The wookie had disappeared, as did most of the crowd. He though of taking the chance and screaming for help, but only for a moment.

“Don’t even think about it. Now, start driving.”

“You are making a very big mistake. Do you even know-”

“I said no talking!” Vrssl gave Numb a hard rap on the back of the head with the pistol butt. “Get moving.”

---

“Ok, now what?” Numb let his hands fall from the wheel as he guided the speeder into a gentle hover in between two buildings. The thug behind him made sure he stopped in the shadow cast in the setting sun so they wouldn’t be seen. A second speeder pulled up slowly beside them with it’s lights off, and looking over Numb cursed as he saw the large wookie sitting in the front seat. That was the last thing he saw however, as some fabric found itself wrapped around his eyes and secured into tape with distinctive sound of mesh tape.

“Shut up, open the door.”

Numb did as he was told, but kept his seat belt securely fastened.

“Lose the belt.”

“What? What are you-”

“No talking! Just do it.”

As he pushed the button on the buckled Numb felt the speeder shift as slightly and felt hairy paws feeling their way around his ankles. He recognized the cool zing of cable as it was tied being tied securely in place. He didn’t like where this was going. He had heard stories of Smuggler’s Moon, but had hoped they were just that, stories. His beloved Empire couldn’t possibly allow a place like this to exist. A place so utterly lacking in order and justice. It seems he was wrong, and if he was going to do anything about it, he would need to get out of here alive.

Taking a deep breath Numb grabbed the steering wheel and jammed his bound feet down on the accelerator. The speeder lurched forward and a loud whine from the engines filled his ears before everything went numb. His head suddenly felt like he had just jumped into the Academy pool, accompanied by a sharp pain in the back of his head. By the time he regained feeling in his extremities, his head felt much heavier than before and the cable tied to his ankles was digging into his flesh. He heard a crash and the animal yell of the wookie somewhere far above him.

Talking now, and a slight swaying sensation. He was being moved somewhere. The weight in his head shifted as the cable gave way and he felt himself falling into something wet, soft, but emitting an ungodly odor.

“You ok?” A voice with just the hint of an accent, Naboo maybe.

“Yeah, looks like we have some dings to buff out before we make the delivery though.” Another voice, sounding vaguely like the one who had taken him hostage, but different at the same time. “A dumpster, nice touch. But I think we can do better.”

When he was eventually found in the morning, Numb had been stripped down to his underclothes and the words “Rebel Sympathiser” had been tagged onto his chest with spray paint. He was tired. He was utterly humiliated. He smelled worse than he imagined a Hutt would. He could already hear the stifled laughter at the academy offices. It was almost too much for him to bare.

#star wars #Star Wars Saga Edition #role playing games #campaign diary

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