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toast-tales · 10 months ago

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Cursed Cravings, Chapter 2: Strange Hospitality

In which we return to the present day, where Danny finds a strange mansion in the woods while searching for her friend. Contains: ~2.8k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

The weather was not kind to Danny as she trudged through the woods, each footstep falling heavy and laboriously through the snow as she marched onward, fueled by a bitter spite towards whatever entity had decided she would not have an easy journey.

She couldn’t give up. The horse that Nathan had taken out of town this morning had returned, frightened and skittish, without him. It had taken all morning to calm it down enough to take out again. They had been traveling for so long that Danny had to walk beside it now, giving the poor horse a rest while he carried the meager supplies she’d scraped together at the last minute.

She tried to follow the path Nathan should have taken towards the next town, keeping a vigilant eye out for any danger. All of his things had still been in the horse’s saddlebags, so it couldn’t have been bandits, right? Had the horse been spooked by a wild animal? Had they simply gotten separated? He would walk back the way he’d come if that was the case, wouldn’t he?

He’d look for shelter, or for someone to help. Maybe there’s a home somewhere along the way.

Surely he’s alright. He has to be.

But Danny had traveled all day, and hadn’t seen a sign of Nathan anywhere on the road. No one she’d passed had seen anyone matching her description of Nathan, either, which only made her more and more anxious. The sun began to dip near the horizon, and the encroaching darkness brought with it a fresh wave of anxiety. She couldn’t turn back, not without Nathan. She had to find him.

“NATHAN!” she called out, desperately, hopelessly. She couldn’t just yell his name out here in the middle of nowhere and expect a response. She did it anyway. “NATE!”

“Hello? Are you okay?”

She stopped in her tracks abruptly, so surprised by the voice that she almost didn’t realize she’d heard one in the first place. It wasn’t Nathan—and she couldn’t quite place where it had come from. She whipped her head this way and that, but all she could see immediately were snow-covered trees.

“Where are you?” she called out, against her better judgment. Strangers in the woods were usually things you tried to avoid, but she was desperate—she had to take her chances with anyone who could help her find her friend.

She followed the voice’s direction a little further down the path, and to her left, hidden well amongst the trees and the snow, she finally saw it—a huge mansion surrounded by a large, iron gate, obviously the home of someone who was very rich and important. This far out in the woods, though? She supposed some of them must have homes out in the country for when they got bored of city life.

The voice from earlier came again, but she still couldn’t see who its owner was. “You seem lost. Are you okay?”

Oddly, she couldn’t tell if the voice even belonged to a man or a woman, not without a face to go with it. Even so, it sounded young, and…fairly trustworthy, or at least, feigning a genuine enough concern.

“I’m…I’m looking for a friend. He was traveling this way earlier today…his name is Nathan Hayes. Have you seen anyone, by chance?”

The voice didn’t reply for a moment. Danny moved closer to the gate, cautiously, searching the mansion’s grounds for anyone who could have spoken to her. And then, she watched in wonder as the gate swung open—almost of its own accord.

…maybe the wind blew it open?

“I think I can help you find your friend. Would you like to come inside?”

There was absolutely no way in hell this wasn’t the same kind of setup as every nightmarish fairy tale Nathan had ever told her—getting lost in the woods, wandering into some strange house, and then getting eaten by a witch or chased by bears or cursed by some fairy queen.

She glared at the gate with a very heavy dose of suspicion. “What makes you say that, huh? How can you help me find him?”

Another pause. “Because I’ve seen him. Curly brown hair, freckles, green shirt, right?”

Danny felt her heart drop into her stomach. “T-that’s him! You’ve seen him? Where? When? And…where are you? Why can’t I see you?”

“I’m inside,” the voice simply said—which frankly should have been a lie, because the front door to the mansion was pretty far down the path, and this voice was as clear as if it was right next to her. Danny, unfortunately, didn’t have a better explanation to refute the claim. “I can explain more if you come in? It’s getting late—you shouldn’t travel at night. It’s dangerous.”

I can’t argue with that, she thought sullenly. Though it’s just as dangerous to trust strangers like you. There was no doubt, though, that this person—whoever they were—had seen Nathan, at least. Danny had no choice—she needed to accept whatever help this person had to offer, no matter how strange. She had nothing else to go on.

She took a deep breath and made her way to the opened gate, pulling her horse along.

The horse stopped before the gate, kicking up his hooves and letting out a frightened whinny, refusing to go any further towards the house.

“Hey, hey! It’s okay, Buddy! It’s okay.” Danny tried to soothe him, but it was useless—no amount of coaxing was going to get the horse to calm down, it seemed. She didn’t know what had gotten him so worked up—but it certainly didn’t make her feel any better about listening to the strange voice.

I don’t have a choice. I have to find Nathan.

She tied Buddy’s reins to the fencepost—lest he run off again and leave her stranded in the woods as well—before heading down the path alone.

The grounds of this mansion, now that she could get a closer look, seemed to be well-maintained. A fountain sat a short ways down, the water frozen over it in an icy, solid waterfall. Hedges lined the yard, covered in a heavy layer of snow. There were even what appeared to be topiary animals here and there.

Rich people really do have the weirdest hobbies.

She finally reached the mansion itself—a hulking, obscenely elaborate building of dark stone and sharp, twisted spires, like a grand cathedral instead of a place someone actually lived in. Ivy crawled up the edges of the worn brick, giving the whole place the feeling of being terribly old.

Danny had never been afforded many luxuries in life—the modest house on their farm was a luxury in and of itself. This was far beyond her understanding of how any normal person could live. How much money did a place like this even cost?

She took a few more cautious steps towards the huge front doors, which loomed before her in all their ornate beauty. There were patterns carved into the wood, elaborate etchings that curled their way all the way down and around a pair of huge, equally elaborate brass door knockers.

A shiver ran down her spine, but she wrote it off as a gust of winter wind that snapped at her then, rustling her traveling cloak in its wake.

She reached out for one of the door knockers, but before her hand could touch it, the door opened wide towards her.

It was dark inside of the house—too dark to see much besides some sort of entryway awaiting her, and what looked like a grand staircase further in. She didn’t see anyone on the other side, strangely.

“Hello?” she called out, waiting on the porch for an answer.

“Come in,” the voice insisted, friendly and bright. “Sorry it’s a little dark, I’ll get things lit up for you.”

The voice seemed to have floated further inside the house, and so, with one last, decisive breath, she decided to follow it, and stepped over the threshold.

And immediately, she fell flat on her face.

Something had rushed to her head almost immediately that had caused such a spell of sudden dizziness—almost a vertigo of some sort, like she’d fallen from some great height instead of just walking into a house. The split-second flash of memory she had retained from before the fall was quickly brushed away, written off as the ridiculous concoction of a brain that didn’t have the capability to walk in a straight line.

She quickly rose to her feet in shame, straightening her cloak and looking around for anyone who would have beared witness to her fall.

Suddenly, though, embarrassment was the least of her concerns.

This was not the same house she’d seen from outside the open door—the tiles below her were the same, the entryway stood before her, yes, but the problem was that everything was built for a fucking giant.

The edge of the floor tile she was on now stretched on—it had been small enough to step over in one stride, and now it seemed to be as wide as her whole house. The ceiling rose above her, taller than a grand cathedral, much taller than the outside of the building suggested. She thought that a mountain could fit within this space comfortably, and the more she looked up, the dizzier she became. She tried to avert her eyes to something that made sense, but everywhere she looked brought an even further sense of terror. Everything, every chair, every window, every door frame and odd object scattered about seemed to be designed for someone easily a hundred feet tall, maybe more.

She found that she had frozen in place, and as she looked behind her frantically, as if to catch a glimpse of the outside world to see if she was in a crazy dream or not, she saw the door—now rising so far above her that it would have been an impossible feat to reach the door knocker from before—closed shut on its own.

As if to fight against the sudden lack of air in her lungs, she took in a forceful inhale of breath—though what to do with it, she hadn’t decided. Screaming didn’t seem productive, not yet, and she wasn’t sure whether she was angry at having been deceived, or simply awestruck at whatever magic she’d stumbled into.

“Hey, hey! Don’t panic.”

“I am NOT panicking,” Danny gasped, almost sounding offended at the notion as she did her best to stifle the hysteria rising in her throat.

She still didn’t see anyone nearby—which, frankly, maybe she should be thankful for. Oddly, the strange voice didn’t seem to come from high above her, as she imagined it might have if it had belonged to a giant. It almost sounded as if it came from right beside her, like there was another person standing just to her right—but there was nothing, except for a huge, stone vase next to the door that held a bouquet of flowers that rose higher above her than any tree she’d ever seen.

“It’s okay. I know it’s…a little weird.”

“A-a little weird? You’ve got to be fucking with me,” Danny muttered, her eyes still casting about the room as though it might make sense the longer she took it all in. “What kind of crazy-ass house is this?”

“It was built about three hundred years ago, and takes some influence from Baroque design-”

“I’m talking about the GIANT FUCKING EVERYTHING,” Danny blurted out, waving her arms around as if maybe the owner of the voice needed help seeing what she did. “How the fuck is this possible?”

“Uh…magic?” the voice supplied, semi-helpfully.

Danny sighed, relinquishing the breath they’d taken in a weary, frazzled exhale. They couldn’t argue with that.

She gasped as a series of lamps far above her along the walls lit themselves up along the inside of the room, illuminating the space even more. She’d almost not noticed it from her vantage point earlier, but there was a gigantic staircase a ways ahead of her in the middle of the room, made of dark wood with a red fabric runner going down its length and spilling out onto the floor at the bottom. It rose up to the second level of the house, its railings intricately carved and oiled, with enormous wooden birds of a species she didn’t recognize adorning the bottom of the railing like perched gargoyles. A huge chandelier lit up directly above her as well, dripping with fine crystal far above like the stars in the sky had formed into one dazzling constellation.

She stared in awe, a little of the initial shock making way for what might have been amazement. It truly was grand, and far fancier than anything she’d ever seen before. If only she didn’t have to crane her neck to actually see half of it—and if only she wasn’t also given the new and rather unwelcome perspective of what a bug might see before it was unceremoniously crushed under someone’s heel.

“It’s a real nice place, isn’t it?”

The voice no longer came from her right, but from her other side—though, unsurprisingly at this point, there was nothing there but a small (relative to the house, not to her) table.

“Y-yeah, it’s uh, it’s pretty fancy,” she relented, trying to settle her frantic heartbeat with what she’d come here for in the first place. “So, can you tell me what you know about Nathan? Do you know if he’s okay? Where are you?” She wondered if she would have to go wandering in this giant house—if this strange person was up the stairs or on the far side of the house, it could easily be a grand adventure of multiple days just to reach them, at her size. “Are you a…giant?”

“Nathan’s fine, he’s alright. And uh, no, I’m not a giant. But can I just say, you’re taking this really well so far.”

A few things seemed to rustle about, like a wind blew through an open window into the room. But none of the windows were open, so what made the curtains move like that?

“So…where is he? Is he here? Can you take me to him?”

Another chill ran down her spine like an ill omen, and she didn’t have to wait long to figure out what such a premonition had warned her of. She could hear, just around the corner, the sound of hulking, huge footsteps, moving slowly towards the room she was in now.

A giant.

“Can you do me just one favor?” the voice whispered, and it felt now as though the invisible person stood right next to her ear. It sent a fresh wave of chills down her skin, raising goosebumps along it, and she stood silently, frozen in place. “I’ll help you find Nathan as long as you don’t scream when you see this guy.”

“W-when I see who?” Danny muttered harshly, her head beginning to frantically turn this way and that as she looked for the danger her body warned her about, her heart’s tempo increasing with every second.

“The master of the house,” the voice said simply. Danny felt a sudden, almost tangible absence then—as if there really had been some sort of invisible person beside them, and they’d just…disappeared.

She steeled herself for what she was about to see, doing her best to quiet the rising panic inside of her as the footsteps grew closer. It felt almost as though each step shook the whole place, though certainly that was only due to how utterly dwarfed she was by everything. It was like she could feel the vibrations of each step in her chest as the sound echoed hollowly in the huge, empty house.

And then he made his appearance around the corner from a room further down, his eyes landing squarely and immediately on her—though as he caught sight of her, he remained standing where he was, as if he was simply observing her from a distance.

The man appeared to be young, not much older than her, with a slender, willowy frame and sharp, dark eyes. His dark black hair was done up in an elegant but simple updo, his hair twisted around on each side of his face and collected in a bun in the back. He wore a brocaded burgundy waistcoat atop a loose, white shirt—everything about him suggested an air of wealth and sophistication that fit the house he resided in.

That, of course, and the fact that he was at least a hundred fucking feet tall.

* * * * * * * * * *

Next Chapter ->

You've all seen the movie, so surely you all know it's going to go well in the next chapter, right?

Thanks for reading, and see you next week with chapter 3, Master of the House!

#cursed cravings #itwom #itwom au #beauty and the beast au #g/t writing #g/t stories #g/t vore #vore writing #vore stories #nonsexual vore #sfw vore #soft vore

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tgmsunmontue · 7 months ago

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Can't buy me love 3/3

Hangster, Explicit, ~16k (complete, posting chapter/day)

(Part of the Top Gun AU Bingo - squares for Ranch, Single parent, Billionaire, and semi power-balance).

MANY BELATED THANKS to @nevergettingoverit for the beta and correcting all my typos and the discussion of the word fossick.

Summary: Jake doesn't need help around the ranch, but he's not going to turn down cheap able-bodied labor either. He's not stupid. The fact that Bradley knows nothing about ranching doesn't exactly help his case, but he's a fast learner. PART ONE PART TWO

On AO3 if you prefer.

He has to have an awkward conversation with his dad when he goes to pick Ashley up, and he can tell his dad is amused and isn’t trying to hide the fact. In the end though he does agree to have a frank discussion with Bradley about his remuneration, and keep Jake very firmly out of it. He heads back to his house with Ashley, and she’s filling him in about the latest episode of the show she’s watching and Jake listens intently, because he’s been following the show through her now for months

The other guys pick up on how things have changed, Mikey smirking at him and Jake just gives him the finger and pulls a face when no one else can see. He does try and keep it professional when the others are around, and he doesn’t broadcast anything to Ashley, isn’t sure what to say to her as he hasn’t talked to Bradley about it and that’s something he needs to remedy, but he enjoys the furtive little kisses he gets to give and receive. His dad has already spoken to Bradley first thing on Monday, and he leaves them to it, glad they’ve managed to come up with a working solution. He doesn’t realize he’s maybe made a mess of it until Wednesday night when Bradley comes to the front door looking pale.

“You told your dad about us?”

“Uh, yeah? Of course I did. How else was I meant to explain why I needed him to take over managing and paying you?”

“Oh my god, your parents know…” Bradley says, but he’s saying the words quietly, clearly talking to himself and Jake realizes that he should maybe have told Bradley that talking to his dad was clearly going to include why. He’d just sort of assumed Bradley would get that it went without saying. Jake doesn’t keep things from his parents, or Ashley. It’s not how he’s been raised.

“Yeah. They do know. I haven’t said anything to Ashley yet, but that’s only because I wanted to talk to you about it first. But the guys also know. Mikey especially has been giving me shit. Happy for us though.”

“Oh my god. Okay. Sorry. It’s just… a lot to take in.”

Jake frowns, because he doesn’t get it, it’s not a lot to take in. Not really. They’d talked about being together, they work together, live within two hundred yards of each other. He wasn’t going to keep it a secret, but maybe Bradley expected him to. He reaches out and laces his fingers with one of Bradley’s hands, tugs him closer.

“Did you think, sorry. Did you want me to keep it quiet? A secret?” Jake asks, his voice low, because Bradley seems to be freaking out and Jake isn’t sure why but wants to find out, and keeping his voice quiet and calm works with horses, and that’s what Bradley feels like right now, a spooked horse not sure whether it’s safe or whether it should bolt.

“No! Shit… no,” Bradley repeats. “Sorry. I just…”

“I never had any intention of hiding the fact that I’m dating you. Not that we can really date out here, but… I’m with you. Okay? I’m only keeping my hands to myself because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable in front of the others.”

“Oh…”

“Shit. You seriously thought I was trying to hide it from them?”

“Yeah.”

“Well I’m not. I don’t want you to think that I’m keeping you hidden away. I don’t mind if everyone knows we’re together. Also, Bradley, we went dancing and left together. You said yourself people would talk. Trust me, complete strangers know we’re together.”

“Jesus Jake. You… you have no idea what that means to me,” Bradley says, and his expression is so heartbreakingly sad Jake wants to do violence to whoever or whatever is making him look like that.

“You going to tell me?”

“You want to hear it?”

“You know I do,” Jake says, reaching to wrap his arms around him and pull him into a tight embrace, his arms staying around him.

“I told you I wasn’t running. Well. I wasn’t not running, but I’m also not hiding. I’ve just been… taking some time. Processing.”

“Okay,” Jake says encouragingly.

“I was in a pretty serious relationship. Or so I thought. He was… well. Married. To a woman. They had kids. Still do I assume. I just… I proposed. Then he admitted he was already married, and I thought, okay, old relationship you know, in the past. He’ll get a divorce. Nope. Whenever he was travelling for work he was with them, and I’m guessing he told them he was travelling for work when he was in California. Company has offices in multiple locations, so I never thought to question it…”

“Bradley…”

“Yeah well. That’s over two years ago now, and then I threw myself into work, which wasn’t the best coping strategy. My godfather kicked me out and told me I needed to take a break, so then I kind of stormed off angry, hit the road and started travelling around…”

“And then you ended up here.”

“I ended up here.”

Jake’s mind is racing, thinking about all the secrets this other guy, Bradley’s ex, must have kept, lies he must have told, to lead a double life. No wonder Jake just being so blatantly transparent is hitting him hard and must seem a little shocking.

“I’m so glad you ended up here,” Jake says. “And I’m sorry I should have told you, clearly, that I was going to tell my parents that we’re together. And the guys have just known me too long to not just… pick it up instantly. Apparently, I’m not subtle. It’s just Ashley I need to tell…”

“Tell me what?”

“Oh shit…” Bradley says, and he’s pulling away from the circle of Jake’s arms and Jake immediately tightens them before realizing that he needs to give Bradley space, even if he doesn’t want or need that space himself.

“Just that Bradley and I are together.”

She looks at him blankly, then looks at Bradley and she smiles at him at least but then she’s looking back at Jake and she looks confused.

“Was I not supposed to know already?”

“Uh…” Jake starts, floundering a bit before realizing what has most likely happened. “Your grandparents already told you, didn’t they?”

“Well. Not intentionally I guess. They assumed I already knew.”

“Crap. Sorry honey, I didn’t mean to keep it from you, I was just waiting to talk to Bradley and see what he wanted to do.”

“Oh. Okay. Was there anything else?”

“No…”

“Cool. Can I go riding?”

“Have you done all your homework?” Jake asks, knowing full well she likely hasn’t and is hoping he’ll just say yes.

“Ugh. Fine.”

She rolls her eyes and walks off and Jake looks at Bradley, who is standing only inches away looking a little shell-shocked. He reaches out tentatively to hug him again, glad when Bradley just sort of melts into him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah… yeah. Just. You guys really don’t keep secrets from each other huh?”

“Nope. Surprises are an exception, but secrets are a hard no.”

“Okay. Then I guess I need to tell you something. Assuming your dad hasn’t already told you.”

“He hasn’t said anything to me,” Jake offers, wondering what the hell Bradley is keeping from him now. If it was anything bad his dad would have said something.

“So, I come from money.”

Jake immediately feels the tension that had been building in his shoulder release, because he’d already suspected that might have been the case, what with his clothes and entire attitude to being prepared to working for free, or just food and board. This isn’t as surprising as clearly Bradley thinks it should be.

“Well, I figured as much when I realized you not wanting to get paid wasn’t because you wanted to prove yourself, but because you maybe didn’t need it…”

“Oh. Okay. Anyway, I really like it here. I don’t need to work for money. But… I needed… this. Being here is… it feels right. Like I’ve come home.”

“Oh,” Jake says, completely floored, because it’s the opposite for him some days, he feels trapped and confined, but he has to admit that having Bradley around makes him feel freer than he has in years.

… … …

“Did you know Bradley lost his dad when he was only three years old? He doesn’t really remember him. And his mom died when he was thirteen. We’ve talked about that a bit.”

“Of course you have…” Jake says quietly, remembering Bradley mention his parents’ passing.

“I really like him dad, he’s good for you. I don’t remember you ever being this happy.”

“You make me happy everyday Ash…”

“Dad… I meant happy just for you. He makes you happy.”

He can’t even deny or disagree with her. Doesn’t want to.

… … …

A few more weeks pass, and Jake definitely feels the happiest he thinks he’s ever felt in his adult life. Family dinners which include Bradley, sometimes hosting with Bradley doing the cooking, which his mom loves. Ashley is thriving, watching her interact with Bradley making his heart feel even fuller. He finds out that Bradley has argued with his father about being paid as well, but his father had won, despite Bradley’s argument that he didn’t need or want it but he likes the fact that his dad and Bradley still get on really well. Both his sisters and his brother have met Bradley now, all given Jake either approving nods or actual words of approval, saying that he seems really nice. Good for him.

Then there’s the sex. It’s the best sex of his life, and so much of it. After their talk Jake had stopped trying to hold himself back, had let his hand rest on any part of Bradley if he was standing close enough. Bradley has just relaxed into it, a soft pleased smile every time and it’s something Jake doesn’t mind becoming addicted to, seeing him smile like that. They usually have sex in Bradley’s room in the bunkhouse, but on nights Ashley stays at his parents they spread out on Jake’s bed and make the most of the space and time together. He wants to ask Bradley to move in, but seeing as won’t agree to even spend the night in Jake’s bed when Ashley is there he’s not sure what to do.

… … …

“Come to church with me?”

“You… you want me to come to church with you?”

“Yeah. Too much?”

“Uh…”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to. Just. Feel bad leaving you here by yourself.”

“I usually ring Pete.”

“Oh. Right.”

“I can talk to him any time…”

Of course Bradley charms the ladies of the church committee immediately, although his mom’s suggestion that he bring in the lemon and poppyseed loaf he’d made as a contribution to the table for after the service had been a well thought out move on his mom’s part. His dad had been talking to Thomas, something about his truck, and he’d suggested he get Bradley to take a look. He’d gone to interject, but then realized what his dad was doing, in his own way. Enfolding Bradley into the community and getting him to assist with things; people are slow to accept change, but there needs to be a starting point.

“Jake, so nice to see you as always.”

“Angelique. Nice to see you too. Let me introduce my boyfriend Bradley,” Jake says, and he hasn’t used that word before, but he likes the way it makes him feel and he grabs Bradley’s hand to pull him closer; because he likes to have Bradley close but also because Angelique needs visuals and words to drive the point across sometimes.

“Oh now, there’s bread raised right I wouldn’t mind being in between,” Angelique murmurs and Jake barely stops his eye roll. Bradley’s eyes have widened though and he’s blinking in surprise or shock, Jake isn’t sure. He should have warned him about Angelique in particular, like ensuring he didn’t get cornered. Angelique shakes Bradley’s hand and welcomes him to the area, fingers running down his forearm and Bradley pulls his arm back, nods politely but shoots Jake a quick what the hell look with his eyes.

“Lots of lonely horny ranchers out here…” Jake says, grinning as he whispers the words into Bradley’s ear.

“That’s why you invited me huh? I’m your protection detail.”

“Yep, a human shield I can put in front of myself and tell everyone I am very unavailable.”

“I guess you are pretty desirable,” Bradley says, voice pitched just as low and Jake feels the heat creeping up his cheeks. “Come on, introduce me to everyone else.”

Jake works his way around the room, forgoing the usual cup of coffee so he can instead hold Bradley’s hand, not sure if the moral support is for himself or Bradley. He introduces Bradley to people who have known Jake his entire life, the ones who tutted disapprovingly when he and Jessica got pregnant and then didn’t get married, but still knitted Ashley enough baby clothes she almost had enough for a new outfit everyday. The ones that filled his freezer with cooked meals and baking when Jessica died. When they tutted again when he and Riley bravely turned up to church holding hand over a decade ago. The pats to the face and then all the anecdotes about gay grandkids, or how they had a special friend when they were younger. They’re the reasons why he comes back every week.

“Grant. Nice to see you.”

“Jake. Hear you’ve got a new beau.”

“Yeah, I guess you could call him that. This is Bradley Mitchell. Bradley, this is Grant Richardson.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Bradley Mitchell? Hmm. Nice to meet you too.”

“How’s Riley?”

“He’s doing really well. Got another grandkid on the way.” Grant says, looking pleased and Jake is happy for him. “You look after yourself. Each other.”

“Of course sir. You too.”

“Who was that?” Bradley asks as they move to a quieter area, the crowd having thinned as it gets closer to lunch.

“My ex’s dad.”

“Uh. Should I ask which ex?”

“Ex-boyfriend. Riley Richardson.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Riley is married and lives in New York with his husband and kid. He comes home for Christmas, so you’ll meet him eventually. But you also have no reason to be worried.”

He doesn’t parse what he’s said until he looks back to find Bradley just staring at him.

“What?”

“Christmas is seven months away.”

“Yeah. And?”

“You think we’re still going to be together then?”

“Bradley…” Jake starts, stares. “Yes. Of course I think that. I haven’t had any relationship last longer than two years. Not counting random hookups or one-night things. Actual relationships? Yeah I think you’re going to be here at Christmas. Come on, we need to talk…”

He leads Bradley outside, away from everyone in the little annex where they serve the food after the service and into the little herb and vegetable garden located between the church and the parish house.

“I’m in love with you,” Jake states, because he thought he’d already spelled it out, but clearly not plainly enough.

“Oh. Good.”

“Good?”

“Well, makes it easier for me to tell you that I love you too.”

“Good,” Jake says, his face splitting into a grin. “Just… ask me next time, if you think something is wrong or not sitting right. I don’t know what’s going on in your head and I need to stop assuming you know what’s going on in mine. We’re kind of idiots huh?”

“Well, I’m an idiot about you…”

Jake laughs, pulls Bradley in by his belt buckle and kisses him, tips his hat up out of the way to give himself more room.

“Move in with me?”

“I… you don’t think it’s too fast?”

“Maybe. Don’t care.”

“What about Ashley? I… would she be okay with that?”

Jake makes a pained expression as he recalls the conversation he’d had with her a few weeks ago about him sneaking out at night and how he was being a little bit hypocritical. He’d stopped sneaking at least, letting her know when he was going to the bunkhouse, but he’s kind of gotten sick of her eyeroll every time he leaves. He’d like to spend all night in bed with Bradley more than just a single night a week, fall asleep with him.

“Oh, my expression wasn’t about her having a problem with it. She just caught me sneaking out one night. Told me I was being a hypocrite and not a good role model about healthy relationships and I should just be upfront with her. I really don’t think she’d have a problem with it. She’ll probably make a snarky comment about it being about time or something like that.”

“Oh.”

“She’s smart.”

“Yeah, she is,” Bradley agrees, and Jake leans in to give him another kiss which Bradley groans into. “Oh my god…” Jake mutters, realizing something. “We’re going to have to… be quieter. You’re kind of, uh, noisy and I don’t want to scar my teenage daughter –”

“I’m only noisy when I know no-one else is around!”

“Really now?” Jake asks, because that sounds like a challenge he wouldn’t mind taking on and proving wrong, except for the fact that the other person home is usually Ashley. Okay. He won’t be proving anything to anyone.

“Yeah, really. I’ve had plenty of practice keeping myself quiet. Trust me.”

“Oh,” Jake says, and suddenly it sounds a lot less fun and challenging, can’t believe he’s somehow the more mature and less-fucked-up one out of the two of them. Also can’t believe he’s fallen in love with a guy who didn’t even know how to ride a horse eight weeks ago, but he wouldn’t change it.

… … …

So things shift again, and he rolls his eyes when Bradley murmurs month trial under his breath with a shit-eating grin as he drops his toothbrush into the cup next to Jake’s. He presses him up against the sink and kisses him, brackets his hands on either side of Bradley’s hips as he laughs into Jake’s face.

“Oh gross guys, come on…” Ashley moans, pretending to retch and be overly traumatized.

“You asked for this!” Jake says, laughing at her.

“I know! And I’m second guessing my life choices!”

One of the unexpected benefits of having Bradley living with him is being around for so many of his phone calls to his family. Also learning that Bradley has a computer and does two to three hours of work on it every day. He still gets up at the same time as Jake, goes off and does some of the chores and meets up with Jake’s dad. Drives his truck out to visit other people and have a look at their trucks or machinery, which Jake is pretty sure are merely a thin excuse for his dad to make social calls, but it’s still good. Great even.

“Freedom!” Ashley calls out, dropping her bag near the front door and Jake laughs, Bradley is making a special celebratory dinner. Tomorrow his entire family are coming to his parents’ place to celebrate the end of the school year, but tonight it’s just the three of them, although he’s starting to wonder if Bradley will ever introduce his family to him. He knows Bradley talks about them plenty, his face wearing a soft smile whenever he does. It’s easy, and domesticated and so drama free and Jake lets himself revel in it. They’re sitting around eating still-warm brownies with fudge sauce and ice-cream when Bradley clears his throat.

“So, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to meet my family.”

Jake startles a little at the sudden question, his mind had sort of drifted as Ashley had talked to Bradley about her plans for summer.

“I’d love to meet your family,” Jake says, and Ashley is nodding in agreement.

“I could invite them for dinner.”

Jake pulls back.

“They’re close enough to get here for dinner?” He’d thought they were in California.

“Well, not now obviously. But, yeah, they could get here for tomorrow. Do you think your mom would mind a few extra people?”

“Just how close do they live?”

“Oh. They live in California. But they could fly out.”

“For dinner? Tomorrow?” Jake clarifies, because that seems an excessive distance to travel for a meal. Obviously they’d stay, but Bradley is looking nervous suddenly.

“Well, they have a house in Dallas.”

“Dallas is hours away.”

“Not by plane. Pete could fly them.”

“Your godfather flies planes?”

“Everyone needs a hobby right?” Bradley jokes, and he’s deflecting, Jake knows him well enough now to know that.

“Bradley…”

“Sorry. Just… tell me again that you love me.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Do you guys want me to go?” Ashley asks around her spoon and Bradley shakes his head.

“My… step-god-sister would come as well. Amelia. She’s your age.”

“So she’s just finished school as well, so they can travel,” Jake states.

“Yeah. And Pete pretty much gave me an ultimatum. Said I either came and visited and gave him proof I was still alive. Or he came to visit.”

“And you don’t want to leave…”

“Nope.”

“Okay. Cool. They’re more than welcome. They’re family too,” Jake states.

“Yeah. Pete’s kind of intense. And I need to tell you that he adopted me after my mom died, so he’s technically, legally, my father. So while my name is Bradley Mitchell, until I was fifteen my name was Bradley Bradshaw.”

“Bullshit it was. Who names their kid Bradley Bradshaw?”

“Mine,” Bradley says, and Jake guesses it’s probably why he’d taken the name change.

“Well, if you’d told me that was your real name I wouldn’t have believed you, even if it had been on your ID.”

“Well, have you heard of Bradshaw Brew?”

“The alcohol company?”

“Yeah, that too I guess, although it’s a very small subsidiary.”

“Oh shit…” Jake says, the penny dropping.

“It didn’t start with alcohol. The brew actually comes from the Homebrew Computer Club, which my dad was part of. Along with my mom and my godfather, Pete. Dad wasn’t into programming, but he was very much into electronics, and speed. Getting microchips to run faster and faster.”

“When you said you come from money…”

“Are you rich?” Ashley asks and Jake feels like face palming at how rude it sounds, spoken so bluntly. But Bradley is looking amused, face scrunched in a way that he loves.

“Yeah. Rich. Money money. Like… serious money. Your dad didn’t tell you?”

“Like… millionaire money?” Ashley asks, her eyes wide and Jake barks her name and gets an eye roll from both her and Bradley for his trouble and he huffs a breath in frustration.

“No. Billionaire money.”

“Holy shit,” Jake breathes, head shaking, and Bradley is looking uncertain suddenly.

“Is that… okay? It’s not a deal breaker?”

Jake doesn’t believe it, but he doesn’t care. It’s definitely not a deal breaker.

“What are you doing here?” Ashley asks, which Jake already knows the answer to, but he’s curious to know how Bradley will answer.

“I found a place where I could be my best self, and I found people that love me while I do that. So… here is pretty special.”

Jake reaches for his hand and grips it hard, hopes it reaffirms to Bradley just how much he does love him.

Later, as he’s brushing his teeth and staring at himself absently in the mirror Bradley comes up behind him and hooks his chin over his shoulder, presses a soft kiss to the side of his neck and narrowly misses getting jabbed by Jake’s moving hand.

“Just to reiterate what I said before. I love you. I want to be with you. If that’s here, on this piece of land, for the rest of our days, then that’s okay with me. However, if I can whisk you and Ashley away to Greece for a couple of weeks, or maybe Italy or New Zealand… I want to show you the beauty of the world. If you’d let me.”

“You’re a big old romantic aren’t you?”

“Well, I am with you.”

Jake eyes the books on his shelf and yeah, he’s pretty sure he’ll let him.

… … …

ONE YEAR LATER

“Come on, we’re going to miss our flight!” Ashley exclaims, dragging Jake with one hand and Bradley with the other.

Jake would argue that the plane won’t take off without them, but he doesn’t know for sure. He’s never flown internationally before, and Bradley has planned this as a graduation gift for Ashley and Amelia, two months of travelling through Europe, and then insisted that Jake couldn’t expect him to act as a chaperone by himself. Of course, a bit more planning had been needed for the ranch, but even there things are well in hand, his family pushing him to go and spend almost an entire summer with his daughter and boyfriend before she leaves to start college.

He refuses to think about that part too much, instead focusing on the fact that the itinerary seems to hit so many places that Jake has underlined in his books. They’re starting in Stockholm then travelling south. Midsummer. Little Mermaid. So many castles. Pompeii. Venice. Paris. Barcelona. Pete and Penny are joining them for two weeks, and Bradley has kept a five-day window a complete secret from him during that time. He’s not an idiot, knows what Bradley might be planning, but he’s got a ring in his pocket and they’re hitting Paris first.

#hangster #top gun maverick #sereshaw #AU #Ranch #can't buy me love

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iliveinprocrasti-nationn · 11 months ago

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i can read yiddish alright alone, but as soon as i have to say it out loud it’s over. we’re stumbling through words like no one has stumbled before. it gets worse the longer i have to read. what is this letter. i’ve never spoken before in my life. i’m like a spooked horse and my teacher has to hold her hand out and calm me down by giving me a sugar cube (assuring me i pronounced a simple word correctly)

#i need to practice more. just read out loud in class and we were STRUGGLING #it was bad #yiddish

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aseioh · 4 years ago

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Of Cakes and Late Celebrations

Author’s Notes: This was supposed to be posted on Mother's day. But just like this fic, I got derailed and ended up being late. (picture taken from the internet)

It was Mother's day.

Or to be precise it will be Mother's day in 15 hours 25 minutes. It shouldn't be a problem for Alcina, she usually just buys something from the Duke to give to Mother Miranda.

Unfortunately, such a thing is not possible right now. The Duke was delayed with his routine arrival at the castle opening, something about a spooked horse and lycans trying to get a nibble.

Honestly she lost interest after the word delayed was spoken through the phone. How is she going to remedy this. The gift itself was one of the finest silk she was able to obtain, she was sure Mother would appreciate a new ritual robe.

This is bad. To show up without a gift on this special day. She was sure she would be made a mockery during the gathering. Whats worst was that fool Heisenberg would be the first to lead with his pathetic insults.

Just the thought made Alcina's blood boil.

”I should send Bela to switch that man's shampoo with dog shampoo. Although the man still smells like wet dog. No. I'll think of something more devious.“

But back to the matter at hand. It's almost Mother's day and she doesn’t have a gift. Taking a deep drag off her cigarette, she considers her dwindling options.

At western part of the village

Donna is also facing a similar problems.

"What do you mean you're not coming?! Where am I supposed to find a present at this hour?!" Angie's raspy voice filtered through the phone "do you know how hard it is to find a 1st edition book on occult and rituals."

"Apologies Miss Angie, but the horse spooked and the carriage suffered a broken wheel. Even if the servants manage to haul themselves your house to the Duke's location and back it would still be too late." The main servant said trying to sound as apologetic as he can come across.

"This would not do" Donna said finally in her normal voice.

Somewhere inside the Stronghold.

Karl Heisenberg was having a meltdown.

"YOU STUPID LYCANS! I GAVE YOU ONE JOB AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN DO IT RIGHT!!" Heisenberg paces around the small assembly hall. Ten Lycans looked very apologetic, although it was very hard to tell from their looks. One even lets out a soft whimper.

“I told you to stall The Duke for a while. I didn’t said to derail him completely. The man has a package for me, now how am I supposed to get it!?” Heisenberg seethes.

His plan was a simply one really. Stall The Duke so that he would arrive at Castle Dimitrescu late, that way Alcina would not get her package and present it to Mother Miranda. That would show her, a little payback for calling him a child.

What he didn’t count on was the utter incapability of the Lycans to follow simple directions. Now even he doesn’t have a gift. Oh Miranda’s gonna blow a gasket.

“Augh... I hate the consequences of my actions” He lamented

At Moreau’s Reservoir

“NOOOOOOO!! That’s not fair, that’s not fair!!!” Moreau starts throwing his stuff on the floor. He had finally saved up his money to buy Mother Miranda that nice jewelry that would go perfectly with her black wings.

“Someone’s gonna pay” He vows to take revenge on the Lycans responsible for his problem.

After all his pet fish has been hungry for some Lycan meat.

Castle Dimitrescu (13 hours until Mother’s day)

“I have gathered you here today for a very important meeting” Alcina starts looking at the sad (Donna) and tearful (Moreau) faces of her so called ‘siblings’. Heisenberg is surprisingly calm which puts Alcina on high alert, but lets it slide in favour of the more pressing matter

“We have a big problem. The Duke will not arrive on time for Mother’s Day. That means all the presents we bought for Mother will not arrive”

“We need a solution, any ideas?”

“We kill the Lycans responsible and feed them to my fish”

“Yes Moreau, but that’s after we solve this problem” Donna said and tries to placate a Moreau by patting him at the back.

“Whoa, that’s a bit dark but I like it. And Moreau is right, we’re gonna make fish food out of those Lycans” “Better off those basdards, after all I don’t want to implicate myself” Heisenberg thinks

“People, you’re missing the point here” Alcina says pinching her nose to ward off an incoming headache. “Listen, we don’t have time. You know Mother Miranda, She’ll say she wasn’t really expecting something and then low-key punishes us for missing the day. We don’t want a repeat of the 1967 incident do we?”

Moreau whimpers from the trauma.

Donna goes into a slight trance and starts to shake.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough” Heisenberg stands. “Why don’t we just bake something and say it’s from all of us”

*beat*

“Do you know how to bake?”

“I work at the Factory, I make steel molds for a living how hard could it be?”

“That doesn’t answer my question Heisenberg”

“We could make a small doll” Donna pipes up

“Sorry Donna that would still take time. And I don’t think we have the right materials on such short notice.” Alcina says

“For someone who’s looking for a solution you sure are shooting down all of them”

“Because it’s not feasible Heisenberg.” Alcina huffs “Can you gather all the materials in less than 10 hours? No? Of course not”

“And I keep telling you just BAKE A CAKE!”

“I don’t know how to bake, child! I’m a BLOODY COUNTESS not hired help” Alcina bellows at Heisenberg

“I know how to bake”

Everyone turns to Donna.

“Really?”

“Of course, I used to watch my Mother bake cakes before the accident. I just need help decorating. I never got a hang of that part” Donna beams with pride as she explains the basics of baking

“And we can gather the ingredients no problem. You have a pantry here somewhere right Alcina?” Moreau asked

“Of course. We always have a full pantry for the servants.” At that Heisenberg looks at Alcina with a hint of disbelief

“What? We need them healthy to serve us. I’m not a complete monster.” Alcina defends

“In any case we should start early. It takes time to cool and decorating is hard”

Castle Kitchen (12 hours 30 minutes before Mother’s Day)

It was truly a sight to see. In a way it was enough for the Castle’s servants to wet themselves in fear when they saw the 4 Lords gathered at the kitchen in various forms of concentration. Needless to say, everyone was warned to steer clear of the kitchen for now.

Moreau was together with Donna supporting her with mixing the wet ingredients. Meanwhile, at the other side of the cooking station Alcina and Heisenberg are charge of measuring out the dry ingredients.

“You need to be precise, don’t put too much. Remember what Donna said and look at the damn recipe”

“I know what I’m doing you damn woman. I’m all about precision. Why don’t you move away and get that mixing bowl at the top shelf.” Heisenberg grouched

“I’m not your servant. And I certainly will not start fetching stuff for you” Alcina shot back

“Alcina, we need to work together. We don’t have time and you’re the tallest of us all. Please cooperate with Karl just this once. Please?” Donna implored

“Once. I’m helping him for this one time only. When I get my hands on the Lycan responsible for this problem, I’m gutting him and throwing him at Moreau’s reservoir.” At Donna’s admonishment of Alcina, Heisenberg gives a shit eating grin, showing some rather very pointy canines.

“And Heisenberg, stop provoking Alcina.” Donna adds

“Fine, you’re no fun Donna”

Suffice to say, the baking went well. Who knew that the 4 Lords working together would be a great success? If only Mother Miranda saw her children working together peacefully she might have had a heart attack and thought that she suffered one as well.

Or she might have been dreaming.

Castle Kitchen (6 hours before Mother’s Day)

“Alright, the cake has cooled down completely, So what color will be the icing?” Donna asked

“Yellow” “Cream” “Light Blue” the other three said simultaneously.

*beat*

“Light blue? Really? Not everything needs to be manly Heisenberg”

“And not everything needs to be boring like your color, Alcina”

“It should be yellow, like Mother’s sunny smile” Moreau explains

“And in which ever universe has Mother ever smiled like the sun?” Heisenberg counters Moreau

“Hey now. No need for that tone!”

“Tsk, sorry Moreau” Heisenberg apologizes to a quiet Moreau

“Fine, let’s do pastel yellow it’s easier for the eyes anyway” Donna supplies, getting ready to start coating the cake with the yellow cream

Inside the Sanctuary

“Happy Mother’s day”

“We hope you like the cake Mother”

“Yes, we poured out our love in baking it. I hope you appreciate it” Heisenberg said

“Why thank you loves. This is a wonderful surprise. And Moreau said that you all worked together in baking it. How wonderful!” Mother Miranda said grateful for once that her children worked together without collateral damage (that she knew of).

“Although Heisenberg, I heard something interesting from Urias” Mother Miranda looks pointedly at Heisenberg, who for some reason starts to sweat and turn pale.

‘oh shit’ “Really Mother? Good news I hope” Heisenberg tries to bluff his way out.

“Why it was quite peculiar really. He said that you got 10 of his Lycans for a special project. I wasn’t aware that you have some side projects”

The 3 Lords turn to Heisenberg

“Wait what?”

“I KNEW IT!!” Alcina unsheathes her claws

“You’re responsible for this mess in the first place!!”

“Really guy relax, if anything I just proved that we need more than one traveling merchant in the village for a successful and on time delivery” Heisenberg starts to carefully ease his way to the nearest exit.

“GET HIM”

In the end, Alcina was more than ready to feed Heisenberg to Moreau’s pet fish. Only Donna stopped her, citing Moreau would probably be inconsolable if his pet got indigestion from all the metal.

And that is how Heisenberg saw himself in doggy jail for a week along with his Lycan cohorts. Mother Miranda did get her Mother’s day gifts from her children although a bit later than expected.

And the cake?

The cake was surprisingly delicious.

#resident evil village #re8 village #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento #karl heisenberg #salvatore moreau #mother miranda #Late Mother's day fic #in which the 4 lords learn to cooperate for their own good #because no one wants to be in Mother Miranda's bad side

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legolaslovely · 3 years ago

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You May

For GatheringFiki’s WINTER FRE 2022 Event.

Going for physical or digital goodies :)

Darkhawk, Rated Teen, No warnings

A/N: I did a bit of research for this one, so hopefully all makes sense. But if I’m wrong, feel free to teach me about early cameras :)

Here are some links to photos below and a great tiktok about old film and old cameras called ExpiredFilmClub. The picture on the bottom right is from this tiktok video. The Cornwall photos are from old postcards, links here: One and Two.

This is technically an AU because the time period is a bit different... don’t think too much about it :)

24. Photographer (preferably DarkHawk)

Cornwall, 1901

Ross squinted into the sun as he slowed his horse to a trot. After four gloomy days of rain, he was glad to trade the dark walls of his family’s home for the warm salt air of the cliffs. This pathway left the newly returned and generous sun at his back and though it’s rays stung his eyes as it sparkled on the calm waves down below, it felt pleasant along his sleeves and shoulders. He closed his eyes for a moment and reveled in the warmth.

It was then his horse moved under him with a thunderous jolt. Hooves rattled against the sandy ground and Ross held tight to his hat.

“Easy, there,” he rumbled, moving his reins and directing the horse into a small, distracting circle. “Easy.”

When the horse landed back where it began, however, Ross was the one who was spooked. He jumped in his saddle when a light head of blond hair rose from the tall grass. A man, who to Ross’ knowledge must have been lying down in the grass, stood and sent a shy wave.

“My apologies! Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Ross released a breath. “Are you all right?”

“Oh, yes,” the man called. He waved toward the edge of the cliff. “I’m- I’m taking photographs.”

Ross’ horse was growing impatient beneath him, taking small, uneven steps that aggravated Ross’ knee. He leaned forward, rolling a steady hand down his horse’s neck as he studied the man standing in the grass. It was clear that he wasn’t from this part of the country- after all, Ross would have known him if he was. Still, by the type of clothing he wore, grass stained and damp as they presently were, this man was most likely of similar status and history as Ross. But what brought him to the rural cliffs of Cornwall? Specifically, of Nampara?

“Photographs?” Ross asked.

The man smiled. “Yes.” He lifted a small black box that barely fit in his small palm. “Would you like to see?”

Since Ross returned from the war, he’d kept to himself. He’d been left with a more than dilapidated home with empty fields and a small village of tenants to support. He’d been left alone, without Elizabeth. The person he’d spoken to most in the past months was his banker and even then he was only cordial and mostly swift.

This man, however, didn’t know Ross or his history or what he’d lost in the past year. This man, standing on the edge of the cliffs with his little cardboard box was the most exciting thing Ross had ever seen pop out of the grass.

He dismounted his horse, leaving it free to graze, and trudged through the sand to the blond man.

He stuck out his hand. “Ross Poldark,” he said.

“Jim Hawkins.” Jim had a hardy handshake and calloused fingers. He also had eyes of bright blue, like the ocean below when it glittered in the sun. Jim himself was just as blinding.

“Where are these photographs?” Ross said, letting go of the man’s hand.

Jim lifted his box. “Those I’ve already taken are in the film. It’s inside the camera. But I can show you what I haven’t captured yet,” he said with a smile. He had two dimples on either side of his mouth when he smiled.

He turned from Ross and lifted his camera to his face, directing the front of it away from the sun and along the face of the cliffs. Then he stepped away, holding the camera in that exact spot. “See this?” he asked. “Look through that square.”

Ross didn’t move. “I see what you’re looking at. The cliffs. And the sea.”

“Just take a peek,” Jim said.

Ross eyed him. Up close, he looked younger than Ross. But he looked trustworthy. Not like some of the men in the streets who would have pushed Ross off the cliff by now just to steal his horse.

“What brings you to Cornwall? You’re not from here, are you?”

With his camera still held out, he said, “Trade. Copper, tin, and the like. I’m a merchant captain of a fleet of ships.”

“From London?”

“America.”

Exciting indeed, Ross thought.

Jim nodded his head toward the camera one last time.

Ross stepped to it, squinting his eyes and peering into a gray square from a few inches away. “I don’t see anything.”

“You have to get closer.”

Jim set a hand on Ross’ back that set every one of his nerves aflame. He easily moved closer to the box, closing one eye and searching with the other until the picture before him became clear. The waves below looked so delicate and the cliffs so sharp, as if they were painted with knives.

“It’s so small.”

“It’s the mirror inside. It shrinks the image to a printable photograph.”

Ross stepped back from the camera and felt Jim’s hand leave his back. Almost forlornly, he said, “Quite incredible for a little box.”

“There’s more to see,” Jim said, circling Ross and falling to his knees. “Come down here.”

Without even a glance back to his horse, Ross followed. He removed his hat and laid in the grass on his belly next to Jim, watching the man’s handsome face scrunch as he looked through the camera. There were wrinkles at the sides of his eyes and stubble over his cheeks. Ross found himself taking in every kink and curl of Jim’s golden hair- how it wound around his ears and kicked out at the back of his neck. It looked soft, as if the sea air agreed with him.

Jim was soon leaning towards him. “Just there. Take a look.”

Ross replaced Jim’s eye with his own and grinned at what he saw through the camera. From this angle, he could just see the sparkling line of the horizon. It was breached by the yellowed blades of grass that pierced through the image from bottom to top. Jim had picked out the perfect marriage of sea and shore.

“Beautiful, huh?” Jim asked.

Ross hummed in agreement.

Before Jim could show him anything else, Ross took hold of the camera and turned on his side, aiming the lens at Jim. Through the viewfinder, he watched blue eyes glisten and full lips smirk.

“What are you doing?”

“Don’t speak.”

Ross flicked the lever and captured the image. He spent another moment looking at Jim through that gray little square, just once removed from a gaze so strong it could have burned him like a July sun. If Jim knew what he was doing, he didn’t let on.

Finally, Ross returned the camera to its owner. “Now you have a photograph of yourself to remember Cornwall by.”

A strong breeze blew up from the waves, rippling the fabric of Ross’ light shirt and sending a thick, black curl of his hair onto his cheek. Jim’s fingers were there to tuck it behind his ear.

“May I take one of you? To remember you by?”

Heat rushed up Ross’ neck, heat he hadn’t felt in a long time. He straightened and blinked, but for once since he’d returned to Cornwall, he didn’t think too much about what he was doing.

“You may.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here is a photo of my mom’s brownie from the 1960’s. This is a later version of the 1900 brownie featured in this story.

#gatheringfiki #darkhawk #winterfre2022

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theshelbyclan · 5 years ago

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Remember

Summary: Requested as: The idea is, there's the shelby sis (older than Finn) and she's taken from the family as a child & they only find her years later when she's around 20. When they find her she doesn't say a word cause she was treated poorly where she was during those years. And they all are overwhelmed with her not speaking. They see her talking to a friend later & ask the friend about her and they explain that. She starts talkin days later and lots of fluff:)

A/N: This was requested by @vikingsxf, thanks so much! Also, this is the first ever story I’ve written on request, please don’t judge me too harshly... I changed it a little, but hope you still like it!

Words: 3574

***

It had been years since you’d last seen Birmingham. Home. There it was, on top of the hill and still at quite a distance, but you could see the smoke was rising and the people were buzzing like flies. It didn’t feel like home, but a part of you knew it had always been home.

For the last few years you’d been traveling alone. This was a dangerous thing to do for a woman on her own. But you’d dressed as a boy and stayed with good people, with traveling people mainly. They didn’t trust you much at first, but when you’d spoken their language, they usually let you it. Still, this life was a lot safer than where you’d come from. You remembered it all. “Y/N!” you spun around to find the old man looking at you, “He wants to talk to you.” Releasing Birmingham once again, you turned away and walked over to the vardo where you’d been summoned. Right now, you were traveling with the Lee’s and they’d been all right. Not great, but no trouble either. The problem now was you were officially grown-up and passing like a boy was getting harder and harder. Johnny Dogs was also travelling with the Lee’s and he’d figured you out straight away. He was gracious enough however to never mention it. “Talk to that horse for me, will ya? He won’t listen to me.” You scoffed, internally laughing at him because he was supposed to have a way with horses.

He winked at you, “It’s the white one, by the river. Wash her for me.” You walked a little with him and admired the white horse. A young boy was washing her in the river, but he had a hard time controlling the horse as well. She didn’t like to be handled, didn’t like to be touched, and you and the horse understood each other at once. “Keep still, sweetheart,” you whispered as you approached the horse gently, “It’s just you and me. We’ll be okay.” The horse followed you meekly. “Huh!” Johnny elbowed the young boy in the side as he pointed at you, “What did I say? Proper gypsy that one, when it comes to horses.” You smiled at them both and walked the horse over to another wagon to get her brushed. Like a ritual you petted and groomed her. Her nose was touching your back every few seconds to let you know she agreed with it. As you worked, thoughts you’d rather kept locked away popped up in your head. Images flashed of dark spaces, doors being locked, children being beaten and pain stinging your back. Your childhood had been rough, taken at a young age and brought to a place of screams. It haunted you, but it also embarrassed you. You never quite trusted yourself to speak after that. The beautiful horse pulled suddenly, spooked by a noise. You looked up and saw some fancy car approaching on the grass. You knew men like that had no business here and your mind was racing at the possible scenarios. What if they came for you, to take you back? Silently, you moved behind the horse and watched as they got out. They were too far away to see, but Johnny seemed to know them. There was no way you were going back. Beckoning the boy and handing him the rag to groom the horse, you edged away invisibly. Walking through the field, hiding behind the wagons, you tried to disappear. You climbed a tree to wait until they’d gone, because strangely enough, people never really look up. The leader of the group talked to Johnny, while the three other brothers stood back. “How’s life, Johnny?” “Not bad, I’m traveling with the Lee’s now.” “So I’ve heard, any news?” You listened to the conversation intently. There was something familiar about it, but you couldn’t quite place it. Suddenly, the speaker looked up and saw one of your bare feet dangling from the sky. Johnny saw him look and explained, “New boy. Joined us recently.” “Where from?” “No idea,” Johnny shrugged, “Doesn’t really speak that one.” You were frozen up that tree. Luckily they had other things on their minds apparently and they flipped a coin for it. The older brother shouted something and the Lee’s by the river were laughing. Before you could even blink, a fight had ensued. Your pretty white horse was now definitely spooked and without thinking about it, you walked over to her to calm her down. “You know horses?” A low voice asked behind you. Your stomach dropped. You didn’t turn around, but just continued to pet the horse, while whispering her own language into her ear. Part of you hoped you could still walk away, without them really seeing you. One of the men took your arm gently and tried to turn you around. But all instincts kicked in and you spun around to punch him square in the nose. His head flew back, he cursed intensely, and you immediately regretted your decision. In panic, you tried to make a run for it. The older brother had now taken hold of your hand. A small smile tugged at his mouth and he tried to calm you down by locking eyes with you. Pale blue eyes, identical to yours, were looking at you. And he felt it too. “What’s your name?” he asked you. You just stared at him. “A girl able to do that to my brother should at least be able to identify herself.” So he knew you weren’t a boy. You still kept silent. He could see you were seriously afraid, so tried a different approach, “My name’s Thomas Shelby and I apologize for the mess we’ve caused here at the camp. I also apologize for my brother’s ways.” “The fuck are you apologizing to her for?” said brother protested, still holding his nose and blood oozing through his fingers, “Think she broke my nose.” You could only suck in your breath and whisper, “Shelby…” Thomas looked at you again, completely ignoring his brother. Alarm bells were going off in his head and some old memory was nagging at his brain, “Y/N? Is that you?” Completely frozen on the spot, you had no way of reacting. You hadn’t been called by your real name in years. This wasn’t what you’d been looking for, you didn’t even want it and here it was: you were looking at your brother. Tommy himself was shocked and he let go of you at once. He took a few steps back and thought about it all for a while. Guilt, anger and sorrow washed over him all at once, but none of it was shown on his face. Walking over to Johnny, he said, “Take her to Small Heath, to Uncle Charlie. Calm her down and take the horse. Then get Ada.” “Tommy, what in the hell is going on here?” He looked back at you for a second, “I’ve found my sister, Johnny.”

*** Uncle Charlie brought back more memories for you, but they were mainly good ones. You remembered the smell of the place, how you used to sleep in the hay and the horses, always, the horses. He too tried to make conversation with you after Johnny had told him what Tommy had said, but quickly found that you simply didn’t speak. Johnny left again and that meant you were on your own with Curly. Curly talked non-stop and you instantly liked him. He didn’t mind that you were different or that you were so quiet, he just talked horses. The sounds of high heels suddenly filled the yard. Ada Shelby rounded the corner and looked at you with big eyes, “Y/N,” she said, “You’re back.” When she pulled you into an embrace, your first instinct was to push her away. But this was your sister and you’d missed her so much. None of it had been her fault, so you just let her. There was very little you remembered from before being taken, you were only three at the time, but you remembered that older sister of eight, always there to hold your hand. And in seconds, you’d lost it all. “Come on,” Ada urged, “let’s get you home.” You shook your head, eyes speaking plainly that you didn’t want to. “Why not, sweetheart? Aunt Polly can’t wait to see you, and your brothers just want to talk to you.” Anger flashed through your eyes now as it bubbled up inside you. If they’d want to talk to you so badly, why didn’t they ever look for you? Ada pulled you down and sat next to you in the hay, “Tell me.” You just couldn’t. Carefully she whispered, “What happened to you?” Too much. “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to,” Ada smiled a little at her younger sister, “But is there anything I can do for you? Get someone maybe?” Your eyes immediately shot up and you nodded. There was one person you were dying to talk to and she was still back at the camp by the river. She’d been like a sister to you for many years. Just thinking that was painful now. Ada promptly got to work and ordered Johnny to get the girl from the camp. Thomas was watching Charlie’s yard from a distance. He saw a gypsy girl approaching and moments later his sister and the girl were talking. They were talking. His sister didn’t say a word to him, but she could talk. Tommy beckoned little Finn to come over and ordered him to get John and Arthur to follow that girl. As his youngest brother had left again, he felt the emotion of it all tightening his throat. His sister had been hurt, badly.

*** The two brothers walked silently, but on a mission. John had been only six when you were taken, but Arthur had been 14 already. He remembered it well. They found their sister’s friend down at a pub and Arthur was the first one to approach her, “Y/N. You know her.” “So what if I do?” the girl threw back. “Why won’t she speak to us?” The girl scoffed, “Why would she?” She stood up to walk away, but Arthur grabbed her arm roughly. Seeing this wasn’t working, John pulled Arthur’s hand away and talked more gently to her, “Please. She’s our sister and we haven’t seen her for sixteen years. She was taken from us and we need to know what happened to her.” “Why?” “To kill the bastard that took her,” Arthur replied quickly. The gyspy girl seemed to be sizing up both Shelby’s. One was a brute and ready to kill everyone who’d ever hurt you, with his bare hands if he had to. This was good, let him. The other one was softer, concerned and maybe even a little hurt. “How do you even know she’s your sister?” “Because she has Tommy’s eyes and she broke my nose,” John said. This was good enough for her and she laughed at his answer. They were alright, but she wasn’t sure if you could ever trust them again, “She thinks the family gave her up.” “What?” “And that’s why you never looked for her.” Arthur softened a little too, for the first time, “We never stopped looking.” Seeing the truth in their eyes, the friend started telling them what she knew. She told them of the orphanage you were send to, where you’d refused to obey anyone. How they’d send you to the asylums after that, where you were beaten and imprisoned for years. How you kept on escaping, but was always brought back. How you’d been out for four years now, after an escape attempt had finally been successful. And lastly, how you’d been moving around with travellers now, dressed as a boy.

*** You knew none of this, but were still with the horses at Charlie’s. A few days had passed already and you knew you couldn’t stay there forever. Charlie knew the same thing. “Go on,” he said to you one day, “Go home to your brothers. They may be mad, the lot of them, but they never gave up looking for you, Y/N. Go and talk to them.”

Walking into Small Heath on bare feet felt somehow like a victory to you. Men gave you looks, so you felt for the knife hidden under your trousers. They wouldn’t be the first ones you stabbed. You stepped inside the house and hardly had any time to recognise the small house decorated as a vardo. Immediately Aunt Polly flung herself around your neck. Sobs were coming from her. She sat you down at the table and made you tea. You looked at it for a moment and shook your head. Tommy cocked one eyebrow and poured you a glass of whiskey. In one movement you downed the glass. John smirked, “Welcome home, Shelby…” “Sweetheart, talk to us. Who hurt you?” Aunt Polly urged. “I’ll fix it,” Arthur grumbled, “I’ll kill them all for you, Y/N.” “No need,” you said, speaking for the first time, “The man who took me is dead. I stabbed him in his sleep.” Your voice was more stable than they’d imagined. Thomas sighed, sat down next to you and poured you another drink. Then he slowly rolled another cigarette and lit it. “They said they were from the parish,” Polly said. You laughed coldly, “If he was, why did he take me to an orphanage first, but still came ‘round when I was taken into the asylum. He wanted me for something else.” Polly looked hurt, “We didn’t know.” “Well you fucking should have,” you spat, “Sixteen years you had and I never heard anything from any of you.” “We fucking should have, yes,” Arthur agreed at once, “Dad was no use and I was the eldest. We did try to find you, Y/N, but there were no traces of you anywhere.” “They changed your name,” Polly added softly, “They always do.” “I tried to get mum to talk about it,” Ada said, “But it was too painful for her. All her children were too painful for her after that. Seeing us reminded her of your absence, and it hurt. Hurt so badly she never was the same after that.” Arthur cast his head down at the memory, “Then the war came and all records got lost. We got packed off to France and the whole world went shit…” “We’re not here to make excuses,” Tommy said, “We will find the people responsible and deal with them. You just rest and forget about where you’ve been.” He started to get up from the table. In a sudden outburst of emotion, you grabbed the glass he’d just filled and threw it at him. It spattered apart in small shards on the wall next to his head. A loud roar, a scream coming from deep within, burst from you and Thomas just stared at you, frozen. “How the fuck am I supposed to forget?” you bellowed, “How the fuck am I supposed to sleep? Tell me, big brother who seems to know everything, how do I do that? I am fucking haunted by what happened. I dream of being locked up, of getting whipped and them touching me. I have the scars on my back and the chaos in my mind! And the fucked up part is, that I was always on my own during it all. None of you were fucking there, and now I’m supposed to simply forget?!” You got up and walked over to Tommy, “Tell me, how do I forget?” Your face was now inches from his, and slapping your own temple you shouted, “How do I clear my head and fucking stop remembering?” Then you whispered tortured, “Tell me how.” Thomas cleared his throat. Then he took your face in his hands and tried to wipe some of the tears off your face that had started falling down in anger, “Y/N, I’m sorry, eh? I didn’t mean to make light of it. But we can’t take it back, and I fucking hate that.” His own voice showed anger now, “Every night, I dream of France. I’m back in the tunnels and I can’t get the mud and smoke out of my brains, however much I try. You’re right. You can’t forget. I’m sorry I said you should.”

You let your forehead rest against his and the two of you stood there for a moment, breathing heavily. Tommy touched your cheek lightly, “But you’ll be alright. You might not see it now and you might not know how, but you’ll be alright.” And then you just let go. You started crying and crying, and it was like everything just only started to come in now. “It’s alright, Y/N, it’s alright,” Tommy whispered while stroking your hair. “We’re here now.” He took your face in his hands again and smiled at you, “You’ve been so strong and I’m so proud of you.” “I never wanted to be strong,” you whispered, “I just wanted to survive.” “I know, princess,” Tommy used his old nickname for you, “You don’t have to be any longer. We’ll take care of you.” His face brightened a little and he added, “even though you don’t need it, seeing what you did to John’s nose!” “Y/N did that?” Polly laughed at John, “Hasn’t changed much.”

Everyone was silent for a little while. You just had to keep reminding yourself that this was real. You were really home and this was your family. Things would get better, slowly, but they’d get better. “Y/N?” John started, “Remember how we used to play with dad’s old bottles? I used to pile them up in a tower and you’d throw them all down. You used to laugh so hard at that.” You smiled at the memory. Happier memories were flowing back into your mind, slowly brightening the dark place in there. “Oh, I remember,” Thomas untangled himself from your embrace with a small smile, “You used to steal tiny things from dad and when you got caught, acted like a little princess to get away with it. That’s why I used to call you that.” “I used to steal the keys at the asylum, extra food and anything to get my hands on, just to find a way out. I can steal anything.” “That’s my girl,” John said proudly. Ada joined in in the storytelling, “I remember when you were born. I was so happy to have another girl in the family, with all those boys all over the place. Mum was too.” “You were the sweetest little thing, tiny at birth,” Polly said, “but with those pale eyes and jet-black hair to match. You used to fall asleep on my lap when I was peeling potatoes. Do you remember that?” “I do,” you took your aunt’s hands as you sat back down again and could see a single tear rolling down her cheek.

“Remember when we lost her, Tommy?” Arthur looked at his brother, “That night in the summer and we were all panicking for hours. Turns out Y/N had just fallen asleep in the hay next to the horses.” “You still have your way with horses.” Thomas looked at you again, “Just as you have your way with brothers. You used to be an angel, but if any of us picked you up without you wanting to, you’d kick and scream. The whole neighbourhood thought we were murdering you!” “Maybe you should listen to me more often,” you replied, grinning too.

“We will now,” Tommy said.

You suddenly felt overwhelmingly tired and you laid your head forwards onto you aunt’s lap, “I’m so tired, Poll.”

“I’ll get the potatoes then!” Ada got up and brushed your head for a moment, “And we’ll have to do something about that hair of yours. Looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in years! You can scream again when I do it, just like old times.”

“I’ve missed you, little sister,” Arthur locked eyes with you and smiled warmly, “Welcome home.”

“Yeah, we have a lot of catching up to do! Maybe I could throw you out the window again, for old times’ sake,” John joked.

“Shut up, John,” you mumbled.

“Leave the girl be,” Thomas said, “she’s had enough trouble in life without you fuckers as it is.”

“Will you be alright?” Polly asked as she stroked your hair slowly.

“I will be.”

Thomas took another drag from his cigarette and nodded, “You will be.”

There was a calmness washing over you that you hadn’t felt in years. And slowly, you started recognising and remembering the way each of them expressed it, but Ada was the one to actually say it in the end.

“We love you, Y/N.”

***

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mldrgrl · 4 years ago

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Broken Things 2/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall See Chapter 1 for summary and notes

Mulder blinks in surprise at the widow’s sudden dismissal. He’s overwhelmingly concerned for the welfare of this woman he’s just met and he has no idea what to do about it, but he does know he can’t just leave her here.

Moments ago he was looking around this house, thinking that it might just crumble around them where they stood. The place looks to be already abandoned, far worse than when Old Man Goodwin was living here, and he wasn’t much of a housekeeper. There are no furnishings. No dishware or pots and pans that he can see. No lamps. Not a knick knack or vase of flowers. She has nothing. Less than nothing, really, and he finds that to be unbearable.

The only thing Mulder knows about the widow, Katherine, is that she’s well-spoken and has been educated. Somewhere along the way there has to have been a fall from grace. Life has handed her a raw deal, that much he can gather, but there’s a spark of determination in her to keep her head above it all. She’s utterly captivated him and he’ll be damned if he’s going to let anything happen to her.

A wild idea pops into his head and he’s never been one to pass on a whim, wild or not. His gut tells him what he’s thinking might be crazy, but he’s followed his gut on crazier notions before and he’s learned to trust his instincts.

“Marry me,” he says.

“I’m...sorry?” Katherine asks. Her right eyebrow lifts into a perfectly peaked arch and he’s never found anything so endearing in his life.

“Hear me out before you object.”

“I’m listening.”

“Do you have a copy of the lease your husband signed?”

“I do.”

“May I see it?”

She hesitates for a moment, but then turns and moves to the back of the room. She reaches under the bedstead and returns with a tattered bible which she thumbs through and takes out a folded scrap of paper. He takes it from her, unfolds it, and then reads it.

“This is good,” he says. “Exactly as I’d hoped. Your husband signed a five-year lease with an option to purchase at the end of the term. Do you know if he has a will?”

“None I’m aware of.”

“And there are no children?”

Her lips part on a breath and then she closes them again and swallows before answering. “I am unable to have children.”

“I see.” He folds the lease agreement back along the original creases and hands it back to her. She slips it into the pages of the bible again. “Well, in the absence of any will, you would be the sole beneficiary. If we were to marry, I would assume your assets as well as your debts. I can pay what’s owed and if Mr. Skinner will allow it, make good on the option early. And you do know that it would also mean that what I own becomes yours as well.”

“I am quite certain you could own this land without marrying me.”

“That’s true I probably could. But, then where would that leave you?”

“I haven’t quite solved that particular problem yet, but you certainly don’t need to concern yourself with it.”

“Oh, but I do. Now that I know you, I can’t leave you here. You’ll be removed from the property soon enough and with no people to come for you or to return to...well, I couldn’t stand by and see that happen. My conscience would not allow it.”

“I could find work.”

“Out here? The only spot in town that would hire you is a house of ill-repute. Unless you plan to walk to Fort Worth, and even then there aren’t a lot of...look, I bet you know how to mend things? Cook some? Clean?”

“Of course.”

“I would offer you a job in that respect, but towns are small and people talk. If I take you on as a single woman to a ranch with six men about, people may think something improper was going on and that would affect business.”

“I’m not your responsibility, Mr. Mulder.”

“All my friends just call me Mulder. You might not be my responsibility, but I happen to like you.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know you’re smart and you’re kind and I enjoy speaking with you. And I know you don’t deserve to be put out on the street with nowhere to go and no people to turn to.”

She looks down and away from him and he moves his hand out to lift her chin, but thinks better of it and doesn’t touch her. He knows horses a lot better than he knows people, and hardly knows a thing about women, but she reminds him of a spooked colt and he doesn’t want to overwhelm her and cause her to retreat. Horses will hurt themselves out of fear, and she just might do the same.

“Think of it as a business arrangement,” he says. “You will be in charge of the household duties, and if you ever decide you’d like to leave, I will be sure you’ll go with the value of this land in your pocket.”

“Cooking, cleaning, mending,” she mumbles. “What else might you be expecting?”

“I’m not looking for sport, if that’s what you’re thinking. I told you, there’s a house in town and If it was sport I was after, there are certainly far cheaper alternatives. Excuse me for being blunt.”

“No, I appreciate your honesty.”

“You can trust me.”

“I’d like to believe that.” With her head still lowered, she reaches up and brushes the side of her hand across her eye. “What if one day you find a woman you actually wish to marry? Start a family. What would happen then?”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I have a singular focus and nothing else matters to me. But, if you should wish to marry, one day-”

“I won’t,” she says quickly, and firmly, shaking her head down at the floor. “I do not wish to marry again. I mean...aside from what you’re proposing.”

“Is that a yes?”

“You would really do all of this for a bit of land?”

“It’s good land.” He pauses and twists his lips for a moment or two. “But, as I’ve told you, it’s not just for the land.”

She finally glances up at him, but then quickly looks away again.

“Do you believe in fate?” he asks.

“I believe God has a plan for everyone.” Her brows furrow. “But, fate? Logically, I would have to say no.”

“One of my horses threw a shoe today. I wasn’t supposed to go into town this morning, and yet I did. If Faithful Jenny hadn’t thrown that shoe, I wouldn’t have been in town and I wouldn’t have found out about your husband. If I hadn’t found out about your husband, I wouldn’t have ridden out here. If I wouldn’t have ridden out here, I wouldn’t have met you.”

“But, if you weren’t away on business, you could have had this land six months ago, as you said.”

“Exactly my point. If I had purchased this plot six months ago, you never would’ve shown up here. I think this is meant to be. I think this is fate.”

“I don’t know about that, but...may I have a day to think this over?”

“Of course you may. And please, let me take you away from here. There are coyotes and bears that are apt to prowl around at night and this door doesn’t look very stable. Not to mention the drifters that pass through and the Indians that roam about, though they won’t usually do you any harm unless provoked. Still, I’d feel better if you’d come with me now.”

“Wouldn’t that look improper?” she asks, and her brow quirks again, only this time it feels a little more playful.

“Yes, Ma’am, it would, if I were to bring you home. I was planning on setting you up in town.”

“Surely not to the house of ill-repute?”

He smiles, glad that she’s in good enough humor to engage in a bit of banter. “John Byers and his wife Susannah operate the mercantile in town. They also have extra room since their boy, Franklin, has gone off to school. When I tell you that Susannah would be delighted for a lady friend, it might be an understatement.”

“If I leave with you, what if Mr. Skinner shows up?”

“I’ll handle Skinner.”

↭

Leaving with this stranger will not be the most rash thing she’s ever done, but it will be high on the list amongst the impetuous things she has done in her life. There’s something about him though that calms her insecurities and makes her feel like she can trust him. Besides, there really doesn’t seem to be any other option except to sit and wait to be evicted.

“Bring with you whatever you might need for a short time,” he tells her. “We can come back with a cart for anything else.”

But, there is nothing to come back for once she packs her nightgown, her bible, a tin cup, a broken hair comb, and a deerskin blanket into a burlap sack she’s been toting for the last few years. He looks at the sack and then at her and around the small sod house as if he’s waiting for more possessions to magically present themselves.

“This is everything I have,” she tells him.

“Alright then.” He nods and puts his hat back on.

His horse is very fine looking. Yellow, with a white mane. It whinnies when it sees him and he scratches it under the chin and rubs its nose. For a moment, it almost looks as though they’re holding a private conversation, with the horse nodding and whinnying and Mulder whispering softly to it. The horse scrapes a front hoof into the dirt and Mulder pats it gently on the shoulder.

“This is Blondie,” he says, smiling as he turns to her. “I was letting her know to be on her best behavior while you’re on her back. Do you ride?”

“I’ve ridden some when I was younger. I can walk, though.”

“We have to cross a creek up a bit and you’ll be safer and drier up here. Don’t worry, she’s nice and gentle. I’ll lead her. All you have to worry about is sitting straight and not falling off.”

“And getting up.” She eyes the stirrups on the saddle and estimates they’re at least as high as her shoulders.

Mulder chuckles and takes the sack from her. She notes the consideration he takes in placing it down on a patch of grass a few feet away and doesn’t drop it in the dirt. He comes back very close to the horse’s side and lunges forward a bit and slaps his knee.

“Go on and grab the saddle horn with your left hand and step on up with your left foot. You may have to lift your skirts a bit to throw your leg on over.”

It takes her three starts to gain the momentum to hoist herself up. She does what he tells her to though and gathers her skirts up. She knows she should be embarrassed by the holes in her shoes and that she has no stockings, but she lost the ability to care about such things a long time ago.

“Well done,” he says, and then passes the sack up to her. “I’m going to adjust these stirrups to fit and we’ll be on our way.”

He works the buckles and straps swiftly and expertly and apologizes for touching her ankle when her foot momentarily gets in the way. After he’s done, he brings the reins down over the horse’s head and turns it away from the house. Katherine realizes, once they’re some ways away, that she never even had the thought of turning back for a last look.

He tells her about the potential he sees in the land as they walk. He tells her about the corral he’d like to put up and how he would like to expand his business of training horses.

“You’re not from here,” she says at one point when he’s lost in his rambling.

“No, I grew up back east. Massachusetts.”

“How did you come to be so interested in horses?”

“Hand down that sack and hold on tight here, we’ll be crossing the creek and the horse could slip.”

She gives him her burlap bag and holds firm to the horn of the saddle. He throws the sack over one shoulder and guides the horse towards a small embankment and then tests the footing before they cross. She’s barely jostled by it. He stomps his boots once they’re back on dry land and hands the sack back up to her.

“That’s my girl,” he says, patting the horse lightly on the neck. The horse snorts and its ears twitch. “That creek was the dividing line of our properties.”

“Perhaps not for long.”

“Hopefully.”

The faint aroma of fire is in the air and she can see a thin curl of grey smoke in the distance. She sees Mr. Mulder breathe deep and then smile broadly.

“Looks like Melvin has noon dinner on the stove,” he says. “We’ll eat before we head into town.”

She doesn’t tell him, but she hasn’t eaten for almost three days. The pump behind the house gave plenty of water, but their food stock was depleted even before her late husband left last Saturday. She was able to boil some dandelions for a couple of days, but quickly ran out of matchsticks. Her stomach clenches and her mouth waters at the thought of food.

“So, you want to know how I came by the horse business,” he says.

“Mmhm,” she murmurs.

“When I was five years of age, there was a cholera outbreak in Boston. My parents, in their wisdom, felt that the city was unsafe for their children and they sent us away to live with my father’s dowager aunt at her country estate.”

“Was that difficult? Being away from your parents?”

“Not at all, actually. Auntie was a great lover of the outdoors and of children. She cared for my sister and I like we were her own, spoiled us as though we were as well. She gave me a little pony with a little cart for my birthday and that’s where it started, I suppose.”

“What happened when you went back to Boston?”

“Ah, well. I didn’t.”

“You didn’t?”

“The cholera took my mother. My father was not as equipped to care for children as Auntie was. He allowed my aunt to adopt us and then he eventually remarried and I have a younger stepbrother named Jeffrey who I don’t know much about except that he’s probably of the age to start college soon enough.”

“And what about your sister?”

“Her name was Samantha.”

“Was? Oh. I’m sorry to have-”

“You do not have to apologize.” He stops the horse and looks up at her. “It was a long time ago. She was eight when she passed on. Smallpox. She loved horses even more than I do. Blondie was actually her horse. Of course, she was a bitty little filly at the time, but Sam made me promise to take care of her, and I have. She’s been with me nigh on thirteen years now.”

Katherine doesn’t know what to say to this. The small smile Mulder gives her after he stroke’s the horse’s cheek is a sad one. It’s a painful reminder of the grief she also carries that she’s never spoken so freely about. She’s never spoken about it at all, in fact, and she can’t ever see a time when she will be able to.

The rest of the journey to the ranch is in silence.

#i wrote this #broken things #chapter 2 #AU #MSR

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imagine-writerz · 5 years ago

Text

My Song Bird {pt.1} ~Prince Kit X Reader

Word Count: 1640

Summery: After meeting Kit, your life changes in an unexpected way. Will you be able to love him even with your lowborn status?

Your POV

As I lay by the dying embers in the fireplace of my family’s manor, the embers flickered like dancer to the beautiful sound of silence. My nightgown pooled around me as I sat up to watch them, I began to hum the lullaby taught to me by my late mother. It was a soothing tone, the word would slowly take over the room but for now the tone was enough. I pause for a moment to speak, “It must be morning by now...”

I glide to the closest window, the smallest glisten of light peered over the top of the hills. A thought entered and I sped to the kitchen to prepare a meal for Father, who has gotten sick. Father was a lowborn lord and my Mother was a maid, that’s why there were very few maids/servants/helpers. Most work was done by father and I, but as of recently i had been the sole keeper for the animals and home. But today, there was no need to run around the homes tidying or maintaining the fireplace. After breakfast i would ride my mare into the woods and visit the hazel tree that was over my mothers memorial.

I dressed in a work gown, and mounted my horse, Destiny. As I rode to the woods, A snake spooked Destiny causing here to begin running, I lost control and could only speak to her to try and calm her. Which was working until what seemed like an army started pounding our way. She panicked more as these strangers ran our way. She began her panicked run again, and she started bucking. I let out a yelp as I was almost through from the horse’s back.

"Destiny, please calm down, please!” My cry caught the attention of one of the men from the Army, that was actually a hunting group. A man on a chestnut stallion came riding to try and give me aid. As I clang to my horse, I tried to stroke her mane to calm her down. Suddenly, a hand pulled the reins that fell where i could not. Destiny finally stopped slowly and i was pulled to up so she was fully on her horse.

“Are you okay, My Lady?” The stranger spoke, drawing your attention to him fully. His eyes were Sapphire, they were the bluest blue i had ever seen. His face was clean shaven, and his curly chestnut hair was pulled back with a gel. His face looked like it was chiseled by any and every god possible.

“I- Yes, I’m okay... A snake scared her, I’m sorry...” I said, almost at a lose for word. I stared at him a little longer slightly bewildered, his clothes looked to be one of a lord.

“What are you doing alone all the way out here? Shouldn’t a lady like you have company?” He said, looking around to see if anyone was with her.

“I’m not alone now. You and Destiny are with me, Mr. Hero...” I finally form a sentence in front of this god of a man.

“Call me Kit, and what do they call you, My Lady?” Kit spoke with a gentle voice, as he glanced back to the hunting group which waited behind him.

“They call me-” I was interrupted by the chime of a bell that originated from my home, Father needed help, “I’m sorry, I must go..”

“Wait! I want to see you again, how can I?” He said quickly as I began to ride away.

“I’ll be in town tomorrow, meet me in the square near sundown.” I spoke, before rushing off. Outside of my home I found an old friend of my father. He was waiting by the door in his finest clothes.

“Sir Philip, it is lovely to see you in good health...” My voice spooked the older man, he turned around quickly.

“Little song bird, you’ve grown more beautiful than last time I have seen you.” Sir Philip said as he offered his hand to help me down from Destiny.

“Have you come to see father?” I couldn’t help but question, as I slid off of my horse.

“Why yes, I came to see if he was as sick as they say he is...” His face turned sour at the thought of his poor old friend, “I would also like to offer my help if it is ever needed by you, Little bird.”

Everyone was as grim of the outcome of his sickness as I was. I moved to open the door, letting him in. Guiding him to father’s room, letting him in once again and excusing myself into a side room. I cleaned my face and hands, before making some tea for the three of us. As I carried the tea up, I paused outside the door to listen to the obviously important conversation, which was spoken in hushed voices.

“I am too sickly to work or care for her. I wish for you to take her in when I pass and treat her as your own.” Father’s hushed voice let out, “Find her a handsome husband, but let her love freely...”

“Old friend, I always have and always will treat her as my own. If you pass I will go to the king and ask for him to declare her as the next in line to take my land. Martha will make sure she has the finest dresses.” Philip made his piece known, “ and as for now, I will help pay for the finest medical staff to watch you so she may be spared from any more pain.”

I knock on the door now, not wanting to hear such sad talk all the time. I push my weight against the heavy door, once again. As it opens I slip in, and put the tea onto the side table. I pour the three cups of tea and give father his, and Philip his. Father suddenly turns as much as he can to look me in the eyes.

“My darling, how would you feel with living with Sir Philip and Lady Martha? You should not watch me like this...” Father’s voice sounded worse than normal.

“Father, I will not leave you to die alone!” I spoke out again.

“Y/N, I don’t want you to see me like this... I want you to go be happy and young, and you would be able to visit me as you please. You just would not have the pressure of caring for me...” Father wished for me to take this offer, i could not let him down.

“I will go with them, but I will visit you everyday for tea.” I agreed to his wishes.

I was sent to pack, as I headed to headed to do so I saw the helpers Sir Philip brought to leave with father. I headed to my room and filled a bag first with clothes and then with my sentimental items, my stuffed rabbit Claire, a painting of mother, a few gifts from father and a silk lace square. This filled one bag, which was enough for one woman. I headed to Father’s room were he sent me out to the carriage with a farewell.

When I arrived i was sent to my new room and went to rest until tomorrow. I would visit Father in the morning and go to meet my new friend in the evening. For now, I must only dream. Kit was dreamy and charming, and he seemed to be some form of apprentice. His hair was curly and shiny, his eyes were kind and a new blue. He had the face of an angel, mixed with a king. He looked like a dream. Tomorrow I will see him again.

In the morning I woke up, and dressed in the dress Martha set out, it was a beautiful (color you look good in) with a (Silver/Gold) trim. The corset made my waist look tiny as that was the beauty standard, and my chest was pushed out. I left to see Father after I set my hair in a sloppy braid. I sat and spoke to Father until the Sun was in the middle of the sky. I told Father of my friend named Kit, and he was ecstatic to hear that I found another friend. I soon realized I would have to leave soon to make it to the plaza on time.

When I arrived off the plaza the sun was soon to set, and I was walking to the square before I saw a swarm of ladies trying to jump on what looks like a person or a group of people. I saw a man slip out of the group, and down an alley to hide. I approached the man, only to see it was Kit.

“Kit?” I spoke quietly, Kit looked up suddenly. His startled look morphed into a small smile.

“My lady, come with me before they see us.” He said in response, this surprise me.

“Wha- Why?” I ask as he drags me away from the square. I look to see that the fight had stopped and all the ladies were looking confused. When Kit finally came to a stop, we were at the edge of the town near a river.

“I was the reason for the crowd back there...” He says confused that I did not already know.

“Are you famous? or do you go around saving others all the time?” I asked.

“You... You don’t know who I am?” He was shocked more than ever.

“Am I supposed to? I mean I know you are Kit and you save Damsels in distress...” I said, slightly uncomfortable.

“I... No, I suppose you don’t need to know who I am.” Kit said, “now, who are you?”

“I’m Y/N” I Say

#richard #richard madden #richard madden x y/n #richard madden x reader #richard madden imagine #prince kit #prince kit imagine #prince kit x reader #xreader #imagines #hes too cute

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isauntervaguelydownwards · 5 years ago

Text

I can’t face this life alone

After Armageddidn’t, once Crowley and Aziraphale had reached the Mayfair flat via a confused Oxford bus, Crowley rather hurriedly installed Aziraphale in the guest room. Installed meaning, of course, that Crowley pointed at the door to the room, said “That’s you”, and then headed into his own room.

There were a lot of things to process, a lot of thoughts to be had, so of course Crowley fell asleep an instant before his head hit the pillow. It was the kind of deep sleep he hadn’t actually experienced since that time he slept for a century. He felt that averting Armageddon merited a good, long nap, especially since the averting was done against explicit orders.

Crowley’s plan for sleeping at least a week was foiled, however, when his bedroom door swung open. It creaked, something he’d intimidated it into not doing five seconds after noticing it - of course, someone’s expectation that doors should creak did rather overpower the by now old intimidation.

“Angel?” he asked, voice garbled with sleep, but a vague, groggy sense of familiar ethereal energy from the doorway kept him from worrying too much. “Wha’s wrong?”

“I…” Aziraphale hesitated, something so unusual Crowley actually sat up to look at him, going breathless at the sight. Aziraphale was standing in the doorway, visibly hesitating, the soft light spilling in from the hallway haloing him in gold. Crowley said his name again, bringing Aziraphale out of his stupor. “I can’t sleep, could I - can I stay here? With you?”

Crowley felt as if he were falling again, a swooping sensation of impending doom. Despite that he didn’t even pause to think, choosing to just turn the covers down in invitation. Aziraphale hesitated a moment longer - almost trembling by the threshold - before he came in, the door softly closing behind him.

Crowley abruptly remembered why, exactly, this was a monumentally bad idea as Aziraphale crawled into the bed. The angel exuded warmth, unlike anything Crowley had ever felt. He settled back into bed, lying ramrod straight on his back, staring into the ceiling.

As long as he could keep that position, everything would be fine come morning.

Soon, the soft snuffling breaths of Aziraphale, asleep again, filled the room, and Crowley dared to relax, in tiny increments. Aziraphale was on his side, facing Crowley, and had one hand outstretched, almost reaching for him. Hardly believing his daring, Crowley reached back. When Aziraphale didn’t wake up the moment their fingers touched, Crowley felt a nauseating mix of elation and disappointment. Clutching harder at the warm hand, he settled again, resolving to at least try to go back to sleep.

He must’ve managed, even though it felt like no time at all had passed before he startled awake again. At first, he couldn’t pinpoint what woke him up, before it registered that the bed was ever so slightly shaking. Beside him, Aziraphale was gasping with barely smothered sobs, hands clasped over his mouth and eyes screwed tightly shut.

Crowley reached out a hand, hovering for a moment above Aziraphale’s shoulder, before letting it land gently, ever so gently, as if he was afraid of startling a spooked horse; it was Crowley who startled, however, when all Aziraphale did was cry harder.

“Aziraphale? What’s wrong?” he asked, panicking - he could solve a lot of problems, but only if he actually knew what the problem was. Stroking the hand down Aziraphale’s arm, coming to grasp his elbow, trying to use the touch to ground them both. When the angel only keened at his touch, Crowley panicked even more. He sat up, leaning over Aziraphale, keeping his hand on his arm. “Please, please, I can help you but you must tell me what’s wrong, please angel?”

Aziraphale finally opened his eyes, but didn’t say anything, only shook his head and sobbed harder. Crowley stroked his arm again, tugging gently, hoping to at least see a bit more of his face, see if he could try and find out that way what was wrong - instead Aziraphale also sat up, more or less throwing himself at Crowley, tucking his face in his neck.

He’s not ready for it, so when Aziraphale hits him full force Crowley falls back, hits the pillows and has the breath punched out of him, mostly from the surprise. He wraps his arms around Aziraphale, brings him as close as he physically can without actually melding their forms, and lets him cry.

Stroking a hand through his hair, Crowley hums the lullaby he used to sing for Warlock, lets the ancient tune do its best to calm Aziraphale from the hysteria he’d worked himself into. It works, too, the keening gradually turning into sobs, ending with Aziraphale crying quietly into Crowley’s shoulder.

“Want to tell me what’s wrong, angel?” he ventured, tone careful and hand still stroking through the blond curls.

“I-it’s so,” Aziraphale began, renewed sobs interrupting him before he could speak the full sentence. “It’s so - so stupid.”

“Hush now,” Crowley said, falling back on his experiences from being Nanny - that was more or less the only experience he had with crying people, whether they be a human child or an etheral being. “It’s got you this upset, angel, it’s not stupid.”

“I thought - I thought we would lose, and then the - the children took care of the Horsepeople and then,” Aziraphale sobbed out, the kind of run-on sentence Crowley hadn’t heard from him since the Library of Alexandria burnt to the ground. “But then Lucifer appeared and I thought we’d, we’d die but you stopped time and Adam stood up to him and everything’s fine.”

“Exactly, everything’s fine, and we don’t have to worry about anything anymore, right?” he replied, trying to sooth the almost hyperventilating angel in his arms. He had Aziraphale right where he wanted him, but he had never imagined him crying if it happened.

“But I thought we were going to die and I love you and I hadn’t told you!” Aziraphale wailed and began to cry again, sobbing relentlessly, face still hidden in Crowley’s shoulder. Crowley, meanwhile, was experiencing something of a crisis, and certainly an out-of-body experience. As in a haze, he kept on trying to calm Aziraphale, but all he could focus on were the words ringing through his head, repeating as if it was playing on a scratched record. I love you. I love you. I love you.

One skill demons had kept from their time as angels was the ability to sense the truth in words, both written and spoken (I love you). Crucially, this was a skill Crowley had cultivated, (I love you) made sure to keep using so he wouldn’t forget how - and now, it was unmistakable, how the words Aziraphale spoke (I love you) rang with nigh-on holy Truth. It wasn’t just something Aziraphale believed, he actually genuinely did love Crowley.

It took an extreme effort of will for Crowley to not faint when it actually sank in what Aziraphale had said. (I love you.)

It wasn’t until Aziraphale raised his head from Crowley’s shoulder, wiping at his eyes, that the two of them realised what the soothing lullaby had turned into - a litany of love fell from Crowley’s lips, each word more ardent than the one before.

Aziraphale sat up, kneeling on the bed, and had either of them spared it a thought they would have seen just how much it looked like praying, how it seemed the angel was paying reverence to the demon in his bed.

Crowley, too, sat up, bringing his knees to his chest, looking anywhere but at Aziraphale - the angel so shocked at what he’d said he’d stopped crying. Crowley felt as if he may start any moment.

“Crowley…?” Aziraphale finally broke the long moment of silence, reaching a hand out for Crowley who flinched away from it. Turning his head away, Crowley hesitated for another moment, before he gathered himself to speak.

“I - I do love you, angel. It’s - I know you don’t mean it like that, but.” he said, stammering, carefully, studiously not looking at the angel in his bed. Oh, how he’d like it if Aziraphale never slept anywhere else, the blond curls contrasting magnificently against his black sheets, the sleepy smiles in the morning, breakfast served in bed… “I have loved you for six thousand years, angel - I love you most ardently, and would marry you in the eyes of Heaven, Hell and everyone in between.”

Now, Crowley expected quite a few different reactions to that statement, most of them consisting of Aziraphale either letting him down gently or storming out in disgust, all depending on what mood Crowley was in when he imagined it. Never had he expected that Aziraphale would burst into tears.

“Angel?!” Crowley turned his head to look at him so fast that, had his body not been well versed in ignoring human aches, he’d get whiplash.

Aziraphale had once again buried his head in his hands, shoulders shaking. Crowley got to his knees, hands reaching out to grab Aziraphale’s shoulders again, when the angel removed his hands from his face.

“Are you laughing?” Crowley couldn’t help but be outraged - how could he declaring his undying love be a cause for the kind of hysterical laugh Aziraphale was currently engaging in?

“I’m not laughing at you, dearest,” he managed to get out between peals of laughter, reaching out to grab Crowley’s awkwardly hovering hands in his own. “I have loved you for so long, my darling, and I cannot believe how much time we have wasted.”

Once again, Crowley’s ears rang with Heavenly Truth, and now it was his time to fall into Aziraphale. He wrapped his arms around his waist, burying his face in the golden curls. He would vehemently deny for the rest of his existence that he started crying - if asked, Aziraphale would only smile, not saying anything to deny or confirm.

Crowley pulled away, ever so slightly, just enough that he could see Aziraphale’s face. Aziraphale cradled his face in his hands, thumb stroking the cheek beneath one luminously golden eye. They knelt there, facing each other, and maybe one of them, maybe both independently, leaned in. If, when they finally kissed, their lips tasted of salt, well, neither of them would ever mention it.

They loved each other and would face whatever came their way the same way they faced the end of the world; side by side, hand in hand.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #mine #type: text

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oveliagirlhaditright · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter Five of my dark Kairi story entitled “Swallow”.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21456412/chapters/66099568

Falling

Sora's PoV:

"Come on, Yozora," Sora complained. as he grabbed onto his prison door and shook it with all his strength. "Don't lock me up, because you know I'm right in saying that… locking Stella in that box—no matter how she betrayed you is wrong—deep down, you know it's awful... because you're me."

And that must have meant something to Yozora, because he gave Sora something to eat then—to help stay conscious for once, in this awful place—and it was dropped at his feet.

It was a banana.

Kairi's PoV:

Kairi and Riku decided to go to Radiant Garden, to ask the Restoration Committee and Tron for help. But it left a bitter taste in Kairi's mouth to do so, because to her it was just pointing out to their friends that they hadn't found Sora yet, and that she had failed in another way.

So Kairi found herself leaving this to Riku—even if she would have loved to meet this non-corrupted version of a friend that Sora had loved so much: Tron—and took a moment to relax for the first time in ages.

As she did so, a kid named Ben—who she would learn the Restoration Committee had taken in—sat down and talked to her, as she dipped her toes in the fountain.

"…Kairi, I think that's your name… I'm sorry if I'm ruining your privacy, or whatever, but I'm Ben. And Radiant Garden's new leader, Leon, told me a little bit about your story with this 'Sora'… and how you now think he's in data world or something? …All I'm saying is don't bet on the wrong horse. I tried to recreate my mom, via this intelligent house that we had... and that was a disaster. Sometimes it's better to have a flawed reality, than to hold onto a scary dream."

If Kairi was being honest with herself here, she was spooked by this entire one-sided conversation. Though she did wonder if the gods of the different worlds had perhaps sent her this boy to her to give her advice...

She was about to ask him how a "mom" connected to an automated home—was that what she was getting here? could even exist to become a disaster, but Pip was having none of that.

"…Why would you tell Kairi that, to get her all scared and defeated?!" Pip demanded. And Kairi pet his fur in order to calm him down, as she contemplated and yet sent a small smile Ben's way.

And she was glad that Ben was holding his hands up defensively for Pip's anger. Because Kairi didn't want her new best friend to be mad at the child… even though she was sad he was kind of confronting her with her worst fears here.

"Hey, Miss. I just don't want anyone to say I didn't warn you. But it could work out. Like, even though we were fine without her… Pat's got her bugs worked out now, so sometimes she gives us chocolate chip pancakes!"

And that was all that a little kid would worry about, wasn't it? Kairi almost giggled at those words about pancakes… almost.

Instead, she decided to speak calmly to Ben and use some of his own terminology back at him. "Don't worry about it, 'Mister. 'Pip here is just a little protective of me, like he was with his mistress, Giselle, but I see that you only want to help me. Thank you."

Pip crossed his arms over his chest defensively here—because Kairi had bemoaned some of his efforts to coddle her heart?—but she knew he really didn't mean it, which she was glad for… because she still needed one friend in this world, after all.

Speaking of friends—or former friends—it was when Kairi was having these depressing thoughts and twiddling with her thumbs, that Riku finally returned.

"What did they all say?!" Kairi demanded, as she sprung to her feet and began assuming the worst. They're not mad we took some months off in looking for Sora, are they? …They really don't think I'd sacrifice him again so easily, do they?"

And Riku sent Kairi a small smile here, that was so much like their old bond, that Kairi could have cried. How she wished their connection was that strong again. And maybe they were getting somewhat close to it again, but…

"Relax, Kairi. Of course they're not upset with us… with you. And they're worried about the Master of Masters and his flunkies, but I told them we can handle it. They also told me what everyone else is doing, and I can tell ya if ya want. But most of all… Cid fixed our phones like we wanted him to... And I should have said this all when that kid wasn't here, huh?"

And this time, Kairi did have to laugh. It was a rare sight to see Riku flustered, but she definitely appreciated over the arrogant boy he had once been on the Islands. "This is Ben, Riku. He's cool. It sounds like he's in cahoots with the Restoration Committee. But on the subject of youth... did the Restoration Committee look any older to you? If so, we must have somehow traveled to the future when we were in the Caribbean. But if not… then we only moved ahead in time in that world, for some reason."

Overhead, a seagull was flying by… perhaps trying to see if there were some French fries nearby that it could eat. And for just a second, Kairi was taken back to Destiny Islands: the place where Sora had climbed a tree to get a seagull egg… and the place where many times—even though Kairi had enjoyed talking to Sora (she always would)—she didn't want to relish in his company if Riku wasn't with them. She missed those days…

"The Restoration Committee is the same age, Kairi. Don't worry." And again… Riku treated Kairi with such patience, that she hated him for it. She didn't deserve it…

But deciding that they probably should have these conversations away from Ben—just in case—Kairi and Riku bid their new friend goodbye and went back to Riku's gummi ship to discuss things more. Apparently, King Mickey had picked up Kairi's own ship from the Caribbean and had taken it back to Disney Castle. So, it seemed that she would be staying with Riku for a while…

Which was fine. More than fine, really. Leon, Yuffie, Aerith, Cid, Cloud, and Tifa had missed seeing the guilt that she bore, and now she and Riku were safe to talk about Sora away from prying eyes.

"So, what are all of our other friends doing now, Riku? And don't spare me any gory details."

And Riku didn't, as he set the ship in auto-pilot and walked around to look at the stars. Kairi wondered if he imagined Sora in one of them like she did, but she thought he might also be picturing Naminé on one of them, too.

"Mickey, Donald, and Goofy are following Sora's lead and going to sleep… to try and find hints of him in their dreams, Terra, Ventus, and Aqua are taking on apprentices, thinking the next generation may hold the truth to finding him... Lea and Isa are looking for a friend that they lost, but think it might connect to Sora. And Roxas and Xion are apparently trying to going as high in the Ocean Between Worlds as they can, to see if they can see Sora from that vantage point… And Naminé's not doing anything… because she thinks you and Sora aren't together now because she tore you apart before."

Wow, her friends certainly had better ideas than she did. Kairi had no doubt that they'd find Sora before she could even dream of it—like usual—though she would still try… and her heart broke in hearing that the girl she thought of as a sister was blaming herself for something that wasn't her fault at all.

Kairi even thought about getting her gummi phone out, to demand that Naminé cut it out that instant… but she couldn't do it yet. No, the only pain she could think of at all anymore was her own. Because Sora, the light of their World, had died for her (again). And even if by miracle of miracle, they happened to save him… that would always be true, and she could never wash the blood off her hands.

Kairi could tell the question Riku was dying to ask her now, as he seemed to look at her with bated breath... what was it about him that now bothered her, that made her push him in a way that she never had before?

And Kairi would tell Riku one day, she promised herself now, and would attempt to make amends... just not now. Never now.

So instead, she changed this subject about their friends and feelings.

"Is your gummi phone picking up any data worlds now?" Kairi asked, being careful not to look at Riku, but rather at all of the parts of the gummi ship around her. The seats that Riku had in his own vessel here were jade, and Kairi loved that aesthetic choice, as they matched his eyes.

But somehow, even before he'd spoken Kairi knew that Riku would disappoint her. "...No. But I may be picking up something else."

Well, the "something else" was news to Kairi. She wasn't even sure they'd get that lucky. So she stood from her seat and peered at the gummi phone he held in his hand, as she took in what appeared to be some sort of jungle pictured there.

And Kairi grinned… she couldn't help it, even though these memories now hurt her. She recalled, after all, bits of when Sora had been in Deep Jungle. She thought he may have even fought about Donald on whether or not to go there… and in the end, Sora had made them crash so that he could look for her and Riku.

If they had to go to such a place to save him now—or at least get some kind of clue about him—Kairi thought that it was only fitting.

"Then full speed ahead, maestro!" Kairi encouraged Riku, whilst she pointed her Keyblade out towards the sky.

And for just a second, Kairi again felt like the girl who had built a raft with her friends, jumped off a balcony, and fought in a Keyblade War.

…

The first thing Kairi noticed when she and Riku eventually landed on the new world, was a strange fruit that she had never seen before.

And suddenly realizing just how ravenous she was, Kairi ate the yellow, C-shaped piece of food and even shared some of it with Pip.

"This is delicious!" Kairi sang, just as the flavors and textures really hit her taste buds for the first time.

But Riku seemed to be staying far away from it, though Kairi couldn't imagine why. He must have been as hungry as she was, if not hungrier since he was a growing guy.

"...Kairi, you know what that is. Right?" Riku asked, with some strange tone in his voice that she couldn't figure out for the life of her. "An aphrodisiac."

Truthfully, Kairi wasn't entirely sure what that was. She thought it had to do with romance and fruit together, somehow, but that was about all she knew. She may have been going to school some, while Sora and Riku had been out adventuring, but she hadn't always been paying attention in class… Not when she'd been worried sick about her missing friend and the boy she couldn't remember. "Aphrodisiac?" Kairi tested the word on her tongue. "Like the paopu fruit?"

"Err… You know what? Nevermind."

And here, Kairi couldn't help teasing Riku a little—as she felt some of her old self come to the surface again, just a tiny bit. "Riku, even if you're worried about falling in love or whatever—because you want to die an Old Maid, instead of getting married, I don't think this fruit is as strong as to make you propose to Naminé the next time you see her, or anything like that. So, c'mon! Give it a try!"

But, perhaps, Riku even did Kairi one better than that, when he saw a yellow coconut lying around that Kairi had missed and opened it and ate at the milk inside…

Right. Yellow coconuts… She had once ordered both Riku and Sora to find them for the raft. So were Riku and she finally becoming those fourteen-year-old kids together, then?

The two teens finished eating—eventually playing a game, where they told each other what they wished it was. Because they wanted meat right now more than anything—but then finished off and began walking again.

And before Kairi knew it, she and Riku were nearing a mountain that was very much shaped like an ape… Kairi probably would have told Riku something about it, if it that moment she hadn't seen something that caught her eye even more!

A lovely lady and an ape-like-man—not unlike Tarzan from Sora's time in Deep Jungle, that Kairi remembered from being particularly active in his heart there—were having dinner together, as a giant monkey (a gorilla? An ape?) talked to them and served them food!

There were even breathtaking twinkling lights around this treehouse… and even in the light of day, they took Kairi's breath away.

Everything about this scenario was just beautiful. To Kairi… as silly, and romance novel sounding as this thought in her head was becoming, it was like what her life could have been like with her mate, Sora, if things hadn't gone so horribly… As she knew that he had wanted to show her a magical world, too.

And so even though Kairi didn't know this couple at all, she couldn't help rooting for them… and she saw that Riku felt the same way, when he was quick to assure the woman that everything was fine, when she began to panic: "Oh, no! You're not with Lyle are you?! You don't think I've been taking hostage by a madman, who will try and steal my autonomy, will you?"

"Not to worry, ma'am... we're just here to see if this world—err, place—needs any help at all. And if it does, we're only too happy to aid it. I'm Riku, and this is Kairi."

Kairi was about to proudly tease Riku that he was acting like Sora again, as she smiled up at him, but just as she was about to, some other people entered the scene… At least one of which who looked like he might try and tear the lovers apart, if his look of outrage in seeing them together was anything to go by…

And then the one that Kairi had been worried about (and surely Riku, as well) was pulling a gun, and shooting at Ape-Man, just as the pretty girl cried, "Lyle, no!"

Guns… Kairi hated him. And she knew that Sora had come up with that same sentiment when he saw Clayton with one, and she could easily understand why.

Before it was too late, Kairi tried to jump in front of the lady's lover, but even with her warping ability she didn't make it in time!

And then there was a panic. Some of the dark-skinned men present were angrily pulling the shooter way, and insisting that he would have to go to prison for shooting another human… Meanwhile, the girl—and the ape who had been waiting on them—were worrying over the shooting victim. And Kairi and Riku were quickly there, too… Though they also wanted to give him some air.

Kairi thought about trying to use Curaga on the man, but she knew that wouldn't work. Cure spells always healed depleted energy more than anything else…

The woman was on her own phone, desperately trying to get service—whatever that was, Kairi thought—so people would come and give George (apparently that was the man's name) the medical treatment he so desperately needed… but the crying woman said that it would still take time, and George might not make it.

So, it was then that Kairi made a decision… because she'd seen too much like this in her lifetime, and had of course felt this way herself.

"We've already ruined the World Order in so many other worlds we've been in, Riku. What's one more? Let us help this man get the best medical treatment available."

Riku might have whispered something about the old Kairi being back then, but if he did she didn't completely hear it. No, she was too busy creating a Corridor of Light to get everyone where they needed to go faster.

But she didn't just leave it at that. Naturally, she walked up to her new friend and whispered gently in her ear, ""I know I'm probably just some crazy magical girl to you now, so who would believe me? …But if you walk through this path and think desperately of where you want to go as you do so, it'll take you there."

"Magic… after a talking monkey?" the woman with the slight accent—or was it lisp?—echoed back to Kairi, with a sort of unhinged quality in her voice. Kairi was about to question it. But, hey. Hadn't she been about the same when Sora had disappeared after using a Keyblade on his own heart, and Riku had seemed gone forever? "Why aren't I surprised? Thank you."

And so, the woman, Kairi, and Riku (who had stepped up to be the main one carrying George here) walked through the Light, and left everyone and everything else behind for the time being.

A pity, that, because looking back on it… Kairi thought she'd felt something of Sora when she'd bitten into that fruit.

But now was the time to be selfless again… to be the girl he surely loved: the Master of Masters had to be right.

…

Once they exited the path, Kairi found herself in an area that reminded her a lot of Giselle's world, oddly enough, which gave her the confidence to see this thing through… And she wondered if the two worlds of towering skyscrapers were once one, before the World had been split into parts.

Taking the brunt of George's weight herself now—as Riku seemed to be getting tired, and Kairi could hardly blame him—Kairi helped Ursula (introductions had been made on the three—four, counting George's—way here) get George into her apartment complex. And she thanked every god she could think of that they took the elevator to get to the penthouse, for even as a Keyblade wielder she didn't know if she could have carried George up all those flights of stairs.

Kairi laid George down on Ursula's bed, as the girl called for a doctor to stop by and see him… And it was as she did, that Kairi understood how rich Ursula was—even moreso than she had been as the mayor's daughter, because her family hadn't been able to afford to persuade doctors to make house calls—unless there were just different protocols here…

And it was at this point, that Riku seemed to get uncomfortable… as he seemed to shrink away from all the expensive things around him.

And Kairi wondered for the first time if her own wealth had used to make him uncomfortable… Even in their golden years, had they not been as close as she'd thought they'd been.

"Riku…"

But Kairi's best friend was interrupting her before she could finish her thought. "If you don't mind, I think I might go back to the place we just left and see how that Lyle's doing… There was something about him. I don't know."

Well, that made sense. If Riku thought there was something sinister about him, it made sense that Riku would want to investigate… even if Kairi herself felt called to stay here for whatever reason. "…Of course, Riku. But stay safe. We don't know what we might be up against in this world…"

Riku waved to Kairi as he was walking through his own Corridor of Light… though he didn't promise Kairi he'd be back soon, and she didn't tell him to come back as fast as she could. They weren't quite there yet, after all, and this knowledge made her impossibly sad.

Though Kairi tried to hide it, when she walked up to George and put a Cure spell onto him for good measure.

"Thank you," he told her—with a smile in his voice—as consciousness returned to him.

And Kairi couldn't help beaming herself—reminded, as always, of Sora—as she replied, "Of course."

Kairi then made a show of becoming the Invisible Girl, as doctors and Ursula worried over George. Though even in her solitude and loneliness at the moment, she couldn't help feeling grateful that Ursula had yet to ask what she was… or any other fair question like that.

Kairi wondered how she would even answer that. As the physicians performed their magic, Kairi went outside and did her own—fighting the tiny shoe-like Heartless that she could find if she looked hard enough, though it was clear that this world didn't have much darkness in it… yet—but the whole time she did, she couldn't help feeling like she was the real monster here.

'Sora… If you can somehow sense me, and sending me these alerts about your presence… does that mean you can see the new me and think I'm someone worth something? Or are you blinded by your love for the old me, and are blind as a bat?'

The last group of Heartless that Kairi fought, ganged up on her and tried to grab her by her leg and pull her away… And while Kairi would say she'd had to stab at her thigh to get rid of them all, the truth was that she had wanted to cut herself for some sort of relief.

And it was exactly for that reason, that she was able to return to Ursula acting sane… as ironic as that was.

"Thank you for helping him, for helping us!" Ursula exclaimed, the moment that she saw Kairi again—as she took her hands in hers, and Kairi was reminded of her friendships with Selphie, Olette, Naminé, Xion, Aqua, Giselle, and Carina… the friendship between girls. How she'd been missing it. And maybe it was exactly what she needed to get out of her funk… or so she hoped. "Gosh, I barely even know you, but you've been a truer friend to me than you had any right to be! Know that if you ever need anything—anything!—and if it's in my power to get it for you, I will… Though I'm afraid I have to ask you one more thing… do you think you could stay with George some? At least until he completely heals?"

"Of course!" Kairi readily agreed. But she wondered if it was not her voice speaking, but Sora's… for didn't she have better things to do—like finding Sora—if this world panned out to mean nothing?

But still… Kairi couldn't turn down someone who needed her, could she? What kind of Princess of Heart would she be, if she did? …If she was even still that at all.

"I'm sure you must have a job and stuff. And this city… must be culture shock to George. I'll keep an eye on him as best I can."

Ursula laid a hand on Kairi's shoulder then—in what she could only presume was thanks—and if things had been different… Kairi might have been happier than she'd ever been.

After that—while Kairi and Ursula both kept an eye on George for the time being—Ursula and Kairi ended up playing a game with apple cider (because Kairi still didn't quite drink, thank you very much), where they took a swig from their drink every time one of them said something awful the other had had to go through for being born into the world with certain advantages.

And though George didn't seem to be able to understand a lot of what they were talking about, as they talked (and Kairi feared that he might somehow be getting hammered on the cider), he seemed to be having as much fun as they were… which Kairi was glad for, because she was charmed by her new friend and wanted him to enjoy life. Yes, that was true.

But through their game, Kairi recalled just how many creepy guys had hit on her just for being the mayor's daughter… and how she had one had to defend her virginity with a hairbrush, when Sora and Riku had been away… She pondered if Sora and Riku (saviors of the galaxy) would be impressed by her achievement there or not.

Kairi knew that she herself wasn't. As always, she should have been better and stronger… and done more, so she'd never been in that situation to begin with. Or really incapacitated him in a form of revenge.

…But none of that mattered now. Happy game time was over, and it was now bedtime.

But as Kairi slept… she dreamed. Dreamed of things that she got the sense were supposed to happen in this world, in a few days' time, but that she was somehow seeing now.

She saw Ursula going to her own engagement party—oh. She'd been engaged to that Lyle guy?—and instead falling for George, as he ran with the horses… She witnessed George saving someone from falling from a ridiculous height… And Ursula realizing she loved George and admitting it to her mother…

And then… and then the softest waves all about her, and suddenly a Foreteller. Kairi ran towards that Foreteller, standing on a single stone in a roaring sea now… and then seemed to teleport there.

Before Kairi's very eyes, was a girl in gorgeous rose-colored robes, that the princess herself wished she had. And while Kairi wanted to attack her—because that was just the norm now in dealing with what might as well have been this new Organization XIII, wasn't it?—Kairi found her heart resisting that notion now, for whatever reason.

And instead, in the softest voice she'd ever used with one of her enemies, Kairi asked with a hand held under her chin, "What do you want? What does your Master want? Please tell me."

And thankfully, this woman-with a very sweet voice, Kairi would come to see—thought it appropriate to answer her, as she herself glided closer to Kairi. "It's good that you somewhat separated me from the Master with that question. Because my wants and his don't exactly line up. For a time, the only ally I had was myself... And I wish it could have stayed that way. But now, I find I'm reluctantly on his side again. Since, despite everything, he is still my father."

Of course… even though Kairi could try to sympathize with this lady here—and her heart was screaming at her to—this made her furious, because no matter what… right was still right.

But then again, maybe she only thought that because she'd never had to choose before. All the stars twinkling around Kairi now seemed to call her a liar. Because the truth was… if she had to choose between the World and her adopted father or her grandmother… would she choose as Sora did? Kairi honestly wasn't sure anymore.

Thankfully, the small Foreteller missed Kairi's moral dilemma here and carried on with what she had been saying… and Kairi was thrilled. It wouldn't do to let the enemy know they had a faltering Princess of Heart on their hands, after all.

"But as for what the Master wants... I won't say all of it—because I don't want to fully ruin his plans. Some of his ideas are good—but more than anything, he desires unity. Since he knows what being without it has caused."

Kairi wanted to argue that the history books from the Islands told her that when most people started wanting this kind of thing, it always led to bloodshed… but she didn't.

Instead, Kairi was focused on the pastel pink Keyblade that was now pointed at her chin. There was something about this Keyblade that reminded Kairi of her own, Destiny's Embrace, but she couldn't imagine why… because they weren't that similar.

She also couldn't understand why the girl was aiming her Keyblade at her now, when until now she'd mostly seemed the pacifist… unless she was trying to show her something now. But whatever that was, Kairi could only begin to imagine. So, she thought she might tell this stranger something instead.

"I think you had the right of it before… going against your dad if he's planning some evil things, is the right thing to do. It's like how I couldn't fully forgive my friend Riku for some of the awful things he did, even if it was for my sake."

And that was a truth she'd never admitted to anyone before. Barely even herself. So why was she saying such things now?

The woman smiled sadly at this. She then leaned in and kissed Kairi on the cheek, entirely shocking her. And Kairi felt Pip come out of her hood here—to try and defend her honor, perhaps—but the woman swiftly showed that she wasn't aiming for anything crooked here, as she whispered into Kairi's ear. "Time heals all wounds, don't you think? You should let that go, Kairi. Listen to Ava."

And Kairi woke up to see George standing before her, with bruises all over his body—clearly from exertion—and it seemed to her that he must have already saved the man she'd seen briefly in her dream.

…

At first, Kairi wanted to believe that she'd just somehow had psychic visions here—even though that would have been scary in its own right—but it was when Kairi started reliving some of the things that she'd dreamt about, that she realized that some sort of time travel was in effect here: because even Ursula would sometimes turn to her, as though she was having déjà vu.

Right now, Kairi was at Ursula's engagement party—something she was enjoying, because it felt good to take a break from the doom and gloom and having to worry about the World's safety again—and she was watching George run with white horses, alongside Ursula and her friends.

…George looked attractive while doing this. And if her heart didn't belong to Sora, she might have been moved by it. So, she certainly understood why everyone else was.

But Kairi soon found that it was George's kindness more than anything, that was moving Ursula—as he walked over to them and explained, "I just thought the horsies here might get bored, if no one played with them."

So, he hadn't been doing that to be manipulative and look powerful. Really, Kairi knew she should have supposed that that was the truth. But with how she'd been abused so much by men in the Organization—and now the Master of Masters—she sometimes forgot that there were decent ones out there.

"Someone named Yozora is also awful," Ursula said to Kairi then—as if she'd read Kairi's mind—whilst she ruffled George's hair. But she'd spoken that as if she'd been in a trance.

And Kairi was completely baffled by this, because she was starting to understand that this "New York" didn't have many sounding names like that, if any. So, who was this Yozora… and why had Ursula felt the need to speak of him?

Was that what she was supposed to find out here, that was connected to Sora? The name sounded like Sora's, that was for sure. And as she whispered it now… Kairi almost felt as though she was saying Sora's name, like sometimes she thought of herself when she heard "Naminé" now.

But this discussion of Yozora was swiftly forgotten about, when Ursula's mother—who seemed off to Kairi—came outside to have a private word with George.

And somehow, Kairi wasn't surprised at all when George was gone the next day, having left again for Bukuvu to save Ape.

"This just reeks of my mother! I know she did this!" Ursula fumed, as she paced back and forth in her bedroom.

And Kairi told her the honest truth, as she laid down on the bed and wished to sleep… She'd been wanting to sleep a lot since coming to this world. And while Kairi wanted to believe it was because of a spell that Ava was perhaps putting on her, she knew it was really because she was depressed. "…She probably did… As silly as it is to say this, I figure she did because this is the plot in so many books and movies. And you have everything here… I can understand why your parents would be leery of you throwing that away. Mine would probably behave the same way… though they may not have strong-armed someone like George so much."

Honestly, Kairi missed George—well, as much as her heart could miss anyone who wasn't Sora—since last night, she'd planned on trying to show George some slides of modern things, like Sora, Donald, Goofy, and Jane had shown Tarzan… though she'd near instantly learned that George didn't need them. He'd been very thankful of her efforts, however.

"I'm going to go have a word with her!" Ursula bellowed. "And then you and I are going back to George's home, and are going to help him heal his surrogate father! …And if your friend really went back there for Lyle, we're going to help him get over his crush on him, too!"

"Wait… what?!" Kairi demanded. But Ursula didn't clarify what she meant by that. Instead, she was going to the room that her parents were staying at here after the engagement party had ended late.

Just a few rooms away, Kairi could hear Ursula's mother unintentionally making her daughter realize she was in love with George (just like in her dream), and the two of them arguing about it… but Kairi couldn't focus on that right now.

Did Ursula really think that Riku had somehow gained feelings for Lyle?! Now that she made herself think about it, perhaps Riku had had feelings for Sora for some time—man, did they ever need to talk, if that was true—so if Lyle somehow reminded him of Sora… then maybe.

But Lyle seemed like a vile person, so if Kairi had to save Riku's heart from being broken by him, she would!

Kairi was walking towards where Ursula and her mom were still yelling at each other—to insist that they leave now, if they could—when Kairi bumped into Ursula's dad: she'd met him the night before.

And he seemed to be much more level-headed about his daughter's feelings than her mother was. "I support whatever decision makes Ursula happy, of course," he started as he saw Kairi. "But do you really think this is the best decision for her to make?"

And Kairi grinned, somehow reminded of her decision to do everything she could for Naminé and to give her the chance to live to the best of her ability. "Just… love your daughter. Love is the reason we're here, after all."

Kairi then approached the room that Ursula was in, grabbed her arm—because it looked like she was ready to leave anyway—and whisked her away.

…

This time around, Kairi agreed to fly on Ursula's private jet to get to George and Riku. As this time, she didn't think they were in too much trouble. Ape seemed to be, but hopefully George was already taken good care of him.

But even if she didn't feel much like a Princess of Heart anymore, she had a duty to the worlds and the World Order, so it was probably best to not screw with it once more in this world.

She supposed she was also somewhat doing this to try and stick it to the Master of Masters some. Because if he wanted unity… maybe he wanted the worlds to know about each other again. In which case, she wasn't going to give the evil man what he wanted… how she hated him.

Pip thought that Kairi was being reckless, too. He came out and talked to her while they were flying back to the much more flora-filled part of this world. He had seen her cut herself, and since then he'd kept quiet to see what she would do next… and he wasn't impressed with some of the choices she'd been making.

And here, Kairi couldn't help but sigh and to try and hide behind her hair some. Great. Now even her knew best friend hated her.

At was at this point that Kairi escaped to fight some Shadows that were on the jet—thankfully, Ursula was completely missing them as she flew—and as she swung each one, she couldn't help being terrified that they were actually drawn to the darkness in her heart, if there was some there. A troubling thought, indeed.

As was the situation Kairi and Ursula walked into when they made it back to the tree house. Some poachers were trying to take Ape with them, in having learned that he could talk—clearly, they had never seen other anthropomorphic beings before—and George was trying to stop them, of course, and Riku, too… Something that made Kairi's heart sing, because it reminded her of Sora.

But then it all went into Hell in a handbasket, as it would have. "You have got to be kidding me!" Ursula was complaining now. "Lyle, they let you out of prison. Or did you escape?"

And before Kairi could blink, he had darted over and grabbed Ursula with a gun pointed to her cheek. "I am now certified to perform wedding ceremonies, Ursula. And we're going to get married. I have our vows right here."

"Ursula!" George called. And it was clear to see that he was torn between saving his father or the love of his life.

Kairi would have tried to rescue Ursula—and Riku too, she was sure—if at that second, the poachers hadn't sent their own bullets flying at everyone.

As time seemed to slow down to a crawl, Kairi did her best to deflect them all with her Keyblade. And Riku was doing the same thing ...which was enough for the poachers to give up and run away, as they witnessed the two's powers…

But while Kairi didn't think that the thieves were working with Lyle, what they had done was the perfect opportunity to take off with Ursula.

Riku pounded his fist on the ground angrily here. And as pathetic as it was to say, Kairi was completely at a loss on how to comfort him. Maybe because she wasn't entirely sure where his emotions were at here. "Dangit. I thought he was a little like me—and had gotten on the right track, but could be saved—…I was wrong."

"If your choice of action was to try and be someone's hero here, you couldn't have been wrong, friend. In fact, I know what I have to do now," George said, while he patted Riku on the shoulder before heading off in the direction that Lyle had taken Ursula, with Ape right behind him.

"Riku… we need to talk now," Kairi told her friend, as she helped him to his feet. The mulch he'd been sitting on had stained Riku's jeans a slight brown color, that wasn't completely unlike Sora's hair color. Kairi swallowed. "You love Sora, don't you? You seem to think I pushed you away… but you've done that to me, too. Is this why? And what? You wanted to help Lyle because he reminded you of him?"

Riku glared at Kairi. And for the first time she could remember, she found herself almost being afraid of him—and had to take a step back—but the look dissipated just like that, and instead a single tear fell from his eye. "Yeah, Kairi… I do love Sora. Or did. I don't know. I do have some feelings for Naminé now, as you've noticed. I also used to like you… And I wanted to help Lyle, partly because I thought he was like me. But there was a bit of Sora, too… Lyle exudes a gay energy. And I'm sorry… You know I think Sora's completely straight in his love for you, but you've got to admit that he's the same that way. But that failed. So I failed again. But oh well.

"But since we're talking about painful topics here… do you mind telling me what. I did to piss you off so much?"

Kairi did not want to answer this. But she supposed she had no choice, since she had just forced Riku to talk about such painful things.

She wanted to use the excuse that they needed to save Ursula, so she wouldn't have to talk about it… even though Kairi knew in her heart of hearts, that she would be fine. But she didn't, in knowing that she owed Riku and their old bond more than that.

"Riku… you were willing to kill for me. Pinocchio, for instance… You also didn't care what was going to happen to the worlds through Maleficent's plan—and your helping her—as long as it got you me… You also kidnapped Princesses of Heart. But I'm going to shut up now, because I swear I'm not here to read you all your sins. Especially since I probably have you beaten in that category these days. And while I appreciate that you were trying to do that to save me. I also hate that you would have made me an accessory to murder that way. At least I did… And maybe I was somewhat jealous of all the time that you got to spend with Sora lately, that I didn't. I don't know."

Kairi crossed her arms over her chest here, feeling very uncomfortable. She was even about to go hide in the treehouse, if she needed to. But Riku startled her just as Ava had, when he was suddenly before her and kissed her on the cheek—but almost on the lips, and maybe that had even been his intention—and somehow, she thought everything that had just happened between them was exactly what had needed to transpire to make them good with each other again.

"There, Kairi. Was us treating each other siblings again really that hard?"

Kairi laughed. Because even though she got where Riku was coming from—he had only kissed her cheek, after the two of them had spilled their hearts out about their romantic love for Sora, essentially—siblings didn't almost kiss each other on the lips… and not after they admitted they'd once had feelings for each other. And yes, Kairi had had feelings for Riku for a hot second, long ago. So this probably was the perfect closure that they'd needed.

"No, Riku. I guess it wasn't."

And feeling as though he was the wing beneath her wings, Kairi glided towards a waterfall nearby, where it looked like Lyle still had Ursula kept hostage. And she landed on the boat to free her from it… only to realize that George had Ursula in his arms on the cliff above them, and Lyle had just said his vows to Ape, who was now kissing him.

Her work here was done… Kairi let herself fall back into the water, and float away—feeling completely blissed out for the moment.

…

Things happened pretty fast after that. George and Ursula were getting married, of course… and they were doing so here.

Ursula's family—and maybe even her friends—were flying out to witness it. And Kairi and Riku decided to stay for it, after they were asked to.

And Kairi agreed pretty easily. She knew, not that long ago, she'd somewhat regretted staying in the Caribbean so long, when Sora needed them. And she'd even been afraid that the Restoration Committee would hate her for that choice. But now she realized just how self-absorbed that sentiment had been. This was all part of the journey to find Sora, after all. So, of course, she would stay for her new friends on their day. How often had Sora got distracted on his adventures?

So, a few days later, everyone was having a grand old time. Kairi was even nearly convincing Ursula's mother to give the pair a chance… though the alcohol she was encouraging the older woman to drink might have been a large part of that.

Speaking of, RIku—who said he was almost eighteen now—had decided to try some champagne, and had quickly fallen in love. He was even offering to sing a song for the married couple now, so Kairi knew he must have been a little tipsy.

But of course, when things would start to feel alright again… they would all fall to pieces.

Kairi saw the Master of Masters standing a ways away from her now—in a more secluded part of the forest—and Kairi found herself going to him, as if she were a puppet on a string.

"Have you again taken a break from looking for Sora? You disappoint me, Kairi."

Kairi summoned her Keyblade to hand, but it was different from Destiny's Embrace this time as she'd put a Keychain on it. A Keychain from this world, that turned the teeth into a groom and bride from a wedding cake: probably because there had been so much romance here.

"Yeah, well… I'm sorry to disappoint. Actually, I'm not. I will find Sora—though I don't know why you would want me to, since he's your enemy who will undo all your plans—but I'm not going to lose myself to do it. Not when you apparently want me to be angry for some reason."

"…Even though, more than once, he's completely lost himself for you."

And despite everything that Kairi had just promised herself, she found herself attacking the Master of Masters for this, as she screamed.

No doubt, she was inviting a lot of attention her way—on George and Ursula's happiest of days—but she hoped that no one would come after her… that the music would drown this out, because they all deserved to be happy. She would deal with this mess herself.

He summoned Xehanort's disgusting Keyblade, because of course he did, and sent an "X" bathed in fire her way, but Kairi was quick to jump over it.

She then sent her light Pearl attack—though actually created from real pearls: an impressive technique that she'd recently taught herself—at the Master's face, but he dodged by doing a backflip out of the way.

Once the man was on his feet again, he kicked at Kairi's legs and she was ashamed to admit that he actually knocked her down.

He had his Keyblade poised over her head then, but before he could decapitate her with it—or whatever he might have planned to do—Kairi grabbed his arm with all her strength, so he couldn't move it. Much like Xion had done to save Axel from Xemnas' ethereal blades.

"Why are you even here?!" Kairi growled. "You already sent your Ava after me here. I thought only one minion per world would bother me."

"…Because this isn't some perfect little story, Kairi. Haven't you figured that out yet?"

And before Kairi could react, the man slammed his Keyblade down on the pressure point of her neck so that she passed out… And when she woke up, she found he hadn't done anything to her. Hadn't kidnapped her, as a Princess of Heart, to further his goals or anything. And somehow… that was the biggest insult of all.

What? Had he beaten her in a fight just to humiliate her?

And as Kairi became furious at that notion, she expected her insanity to come back in full-swing… but it didn't. Kairi's mind felt sane. And that horrified her more than anything. Would her new strength be gone if her mind worked right again?

In her hoodie, Pip had laid his paws on Kairi's shoulder—clearly trying to keep her from going over the edge—but she didn't want him to be.

She wanted to fall… in this happy world, or no.

Author's Note: This chapter gave me fits, so that's why it took me so long to finish and post. I'm sorry about that:(

I always wanted this world in here. Partly because, so far, the worlds Kairi have gone to are somewhat similar to Sora's ones from KH1. Enchanted was two worlds (Andalasia and New York) like Wonderland is (Wonderland and England), the Pirates of the Caribbean movies are full of Greek mythology like Hercules is. And now George of the Jungle is clearly a lot like Deep Jungle/Tarzan.

But then when I decided that Kairi and Riku would believe that Sora is in a data world… I didn't know if this would fit, because would it still seem like filler? I thought about skipping this world altogether, but in the end I'm glad I didn't. And I hope you all feel the same way, too.

Another issue I had, is that this movie is mostly comedic and this story… is not. Hopefully I struck some sort of balance here, but IDK.

I almost feel like there should have been more dialogue and stuff from the George of the Jungle characters here—and more George—but whatever. This chapter is finally done, and I'm glad about it.

…I feel like there was a lot I wanted to say here, but now I kind of forget. If I remember, I might add on.

Ben is from the Disney Channel Original Movie "Smart House". Originally, I was going to have FFX-2!Yuna to somewhat beware Kairi of chasing dreams… but then I realized that that didn't work for obvious reasons, so Ben it became.

Oh. And since Re:Mind isn't canon to this story, I tried to have everyone looking for Sora in ways that they aren't in canon… though Mickey, Donald, and Goofy are doing what Kairi is in Melody of Memory. Haha.

And I'm sorry if there are a ton of mistakes here (though hopefully there aren't). I rewrote most of this… and am too lazy to go back and reread those sections. So, yeah.

Welp, see you all soon. I hope.

I hope everyone's having a great October thus far!

Edit: I'm also going with that Destiny Islands didn't have bananas here. So shh.

Edit 2: I swear there isn't going to be a lot of time travel in this, if any more at all. It was only "there" last time-though not even that-because I wanted Kairi and Riku to be in Dead Men Tell No Tales. And while it's sooooooooooooooooomewhat story important here, I mostly did it to try and spice up this comedic movie some. Yeah.

Edit 3: Kairi defending her virginity with a hairbrush is a reference to sunflowerb on fanfiction's amazing "Smile and Nod" story.

#swallow #my writing #Shanna writes #my work #mine #swallow chapter five #kairi #sokai #riku and kairi friendship

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softeddiek · 5 years ago

Text

for axg week 2019

day 3: reunion

read on ao3

book canon only, with spoilers for all books + the ‘Mercy’ sample chapter from TWOW; arya is aged up for reasons

i will not ask you where you came from

It’s Harwin that recognizes her first. It seems rather fitting that it would be him. He had known her as a child; served her father in his life and was now serving her mother in her death. It had been him that had known her to be Arya Stark when the Brotherhood had found them. Gendry had only known she’d been highborn because she’d told him.

They had been making their way back to the inn with some of their brothers. Gendry stayed there most of the time, smithing and keeping watch over the lot of orphans that had collected over the years, but whenever a wayward Lannister or Frey came across their path, he took part in the short trip to Lady Stoneheart. He didn’t used to make the entire trip, choosing to turn back at the river so as not to leave the orphans alone too along. (But really it wasn’t just about the orphans. Deep down, beneath his simmering anger, some part of him, a very small part, would remember why he had joined the Brotherhood in the first place. Truthfully, it was that part of him that made his feet turn back around.)

That had changed once they had gotten news of the wedding. After that, he made it a point to go to as many hangings as he could. See the deaths of as many Freys and Lannisters and traitorous Northmen as he could. The news hadn’t affected Lady Stoneheart the same way. She’d believed her daughters to have been dead all along, refusing to believe that the Bolton bastard had married Arya. Gendry had never found it in himself to face her—that horrible, milky face, shredded to ribbons—and tell her that her daughter hadn’t died; that it was Gendry that had lost her. It seemed Harwin and Lem and all the others had never gotten around to it neither.

The lady had been extra swift with her justice since they had lost the Kingslayer and the ugly woman knight right out from under them. It’s after one of the more brutal trials that they’ve found themselves creeping up slowly through the trees upon a small figure with their cloak up huddled in front of a fire. The cold had been creeping into the Riverlands for years; snow was a daily occurrence. But even still, what fool would chance a fire in the middle of the day? The Riverlands had not been safe for as long as Gendry had been there, and they had been able to see the smoke from a league away.

“Just looks like a small boy to me,” he whispers to his right.

“Boys can be lions or wolves. Pretty smelling roses even. Same as some of us was,” someone bites back at him.

He glances over at his brothers, sees their hands slowly moving to hilts and quivers, sneers on their faces. He is suddenly transported back to when he was a young boy, coming out behind a wall with Hot Pie, only to be met with some of these very men. Friendlier faces. They wear no friendly looks now, even knowing this one small boy would stand no chance against them. Sometimes he thinks there is little point in even calling them a brotherhood anymore. They are not brothers. The only things that bind them all together now are hate and anger.

He shakes his head, clearing it of thoughts of the past that do him little good anymore. He notices that he has missed the signal, his brothers already advancing silently without him. He takes a quick step forward, onto the freshly fallen layer of snow, when he hears a crack. Grimacing as he looks down, he sees the end of a twig he has stepped on, half buried beneath the snow.

He can sense everyone has stopped moving at the noise and looks up to see the back of the boy’s head is tilted at an angle, like an animal might. The boy makes no further movements, though it’s obvious he knows someone is there.

“Alright,” Harwin says, his jovial tone holding a bit of an edge. He steps out to where the boy would see him if they turn around. “I don’t want no trouble. Turn around nice and slow lad, hands out where I can see them.”

They hesitate a moment, head still cocked. “And your friends? Do all five of them ‘want no trouble’?”

Gendry feels his eyebrows shoot up, both in surprise at them knowing just how many of them there are, and at their voice being distinctly feminine.

The girl does not wait for an answer, and Harwin doesn’t seem like to think of one quick enough. She stands up like he told her to, slowly, but hasn’t yet turned around. The rest of them give up the pretense and come forward, forming a half circle around her.

She brings her hands up and slowly lifts the cloak off her head, revealing short cropped brown hair. Harwin has a look on his face that seems more thoughtful than the situation warrants. She takes small shuffling steps to turn around, showing off her face to each of them one by one. It’s when it is fully exposed to Harwin that Gendry hears the man suck in a sharp breath. Gendry looks over to him as he says, “Milady. We’d not thought to see you again.”

He can feel confusion ripple among his brothers. It is then that he looks away, letting his eyes roam over the girl.

She would be small for a boy, but for a girl she looks rather healthy, well-fed. If he had to guess, he would put her at no older than five and ten. Her jerkin and breeches look clean but foreign, and the cloak she has on is only a little faded. It is when he gets to her face, to those eyes, that the breath is knocked from him. He hasn’t seen those eyes in years. Her hair is similar in length to when he had last seen her, only this time the locks are more even. Like they’d been cut in a purposeful way, and not sheared off to make her look like a boy. She is no longer the scrawny, malnourished girl she had been in their youth, but she is undoubtedly Arya Stark.

“Neither had I,” she replies. Her voice knocks him out of his observations and all he can feel is an overwhelming sense of relief. Relief that she isn’t dead. That she hadn’t met her end at Saltpans. And no sooner had he thought that then was the relief snuffed out, replaced by guilt. Because if she hadn’t died then that meant that the rumors were true, and she had been wedded. Wedded and bedded by the Bolton bastard. The guilt he’s been carrying for years in his heart and in the constant scowl he wears hits hard as he thinks on what horrors her husband is said to have inflicted upon her.

“We looked for you, milady. All around the Riverlands we followed Clegane’s trail.”

“Did you, Harwin?” she asks, eyes narrowed as if looking to catch him in a lie.

She does not wait for his answer, instead looking around at the faces of his brothers, taking them all in carefully, perhaps trying to see if she recognizes any. Her face is carefully blank until her eyes reach him. It is only then that she allows for the shadow of a smile.

“Gendry.”

He realizes then he has not thought to say a word up to this point. He clears his throat, feeling as though there is something lodged in it. “Arya,” he manages to get out.

She faces Harwin again, the shadow gone. “I’m heading North,” she starts, turning back toward her fire to put it out. All of his brothers but Harwin have their weapons at the ready, prepared to stop her from leaving. “And this time, you won’t stop me,” she finishes, unwavering at the sound of steel that has been drawn.

“Put your bloody weapons down,” Harwin barks.

“And why should we? The fuck’s this?” pipes up Luke, not recognizing this older version of Arya.

Harwin ignores him. “North, milady? Is that not where you have just come from?”

Her brow furrows. “Why would I have come from the North?”

“We had heard it that…” Harwin looks lost. “Well news had been that you were Lady Bolton now,” he says gently. In fact, the Harwin before him looks downright paternal compared to the Harwin that had been present the last few years. More like the one who had gently prodded Arya along when she had been the Brotherhood’s captive, and less like the hardened outlaw that hung the noose around the necks of their enemies as often as any other fervent supporter of Lady Stoneheart.

“Oh that.” She seems unperturbed. “No, I’ve not been North. It seems some other girl was unfortunate enough to marry a Bolton in my stead.” And just like that, Gendry’s emotions swing right back around. She hadn’t been married. Whatever Arya had been through, wherever she had been, it was likely a great deal better than being butchered at Saltpans or trapped in her family’s castle with a monster in her bed. He can’t help but let his shoulders sag a bit from the relief.

“Then where have you been, milady?”

All that meets his question is silence.

“If I had to guess,” one of his brothers pipes up when it becomes clear that she will not answer. His eyes begin to roam up and down Arya’s body. Gendry can feel his fists clenching at that. It’s the Tyroshi. He has been with the Brotherhood for a while now, joined right before Lady Stoneheart had taken over, though Gendry has never spoken to him. But it’s hard to miss him with his dyed hair and thick accent. “I would say this girl has spent time across the Narrow Sea.”

He sees Arya’s jaw tick for a fraction of a second before it stills, her face a calm mask. “Valar morghulis,” the Tyroshi adds, with what he must imagine is a charming smile thrown her way, speaking in that odd tongue Gendry had heard Greenbeard use before he had gone and left them. Arya just sends a hard look the man’s way, eyes steely.

“I really ought to be going now,” she says, directing her words toward Harwin and Gendry while eyeing the Tyroshi. “I have a long trip and it’s not getting any warmer.”

“Wait, milady,” Harwin says none too quietly, hands coming out as if placating a spooked horse. “We can’t be letting you go just yet.”

Her left eyebrow shoots up and all eyes are drawn to the hand that she’s inching toward her waist, slipping between the fold of her cloak where she undoubtedly has a weapon. “I don’t think you’ll be getting much gold out of me Harwin. There’s no one left to ransom me to I’m afraid. Don’t worry, I’m sure Beric won’t be too upset with you.”

At the mention of their former leader, over half of their faces turn weary. She falters at that, clearly expecting to get more of a fight out of these men. She looks over at Gendry, a question in her gaze.

Seeing no one else is ready to break the news, he manages to find his voice. “Arya, things have…changed since you left.” He takes a gulp, knowing where this will go. Knowing what they will have to reveal to her. Knowing she will likely hate them for what they have turned her mother into. Hate him for what he let them turn her mother into. His eyes flicker toward Harwin. His jaw is clenched but otherwise he gives Gendry no indication as to what he should say. He feels her eyes still on him, looks back to see those grey pools urging him on. The concern she wears is the most emotions she has shown since he has set eyes on her.

Taking a breath, he steels himself, sends a small prayer in his head to R’hllor and all of the other gods he has never been sure he believes in. A prayer that this won’t send her running, the horror that her mother has become. Not when he has just gotten her back.

“Beric’s dead.”

Gendry hears nothing. It’s all silence. He knows he should be hearing the chirping of crickets, the hooting of owls. And, distantly, maybe even the howling of wolves. Some sounds of life. He knows he should hear Harwin, cursing as he tries to break chinks into the frozen streambed, and he certainly should have heard his own loud, crashing footsteps as he hurried from the tent. But he hears nothing.

Suddenly, Harwin is in his face, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. Then he hears it. A ragged gasping sound. Looking for the source, his eyes finally land on Arya, kneeling in the snow by the stream, scrubbing furiously at her hands. He jumps at that and heads toward her, bending down beside her. Her motions are jerky and quick, but she stops and looks over at him, a wild look in her eyes.

“Lady Stoneheart…your mother” Harwin begins behind them.

“Don’t call her that,” she snaps back.

He bows his head a bit, in shame. “Lady Catelyn—"

“Don’t call her that either. That thing was not my mother.” He can feel her crackling with rage beside him, a sense of clarity having returned to her.

“It was done with good intentions, milady. Beric himself is the one that did it.”

“I don’t care about Beric’s intentions. Or yours, or your stupid fucking brotherhood’s.” She pauses. “My mother should have been allowed to rest. She should have been allowed to return to my father.” Her eyes grow glassy, and he thinks she is about to let out a sob, but instead she turns back to the stream to try and wash the remaining blood off her hands.

Harwin sighs, a large furrow to his brow. Gendry can tell he is torn. All he has ever known is the Starks. His father was Lord Stark’s man and then he himself was. He had seen the Stark children grow up and it was Lord Stark that had sent him out with Beric to catch The Mountain. And now a Stark has killed the Stark he was serving. But Gendry will be damned if he lets Harwin tell the Brotherhood about what happened in that tent.

After Beric’s death, they had stopped giving fair trials. Hanging any enemy of Lady Stoneheart’s, helping her take her revenge. Anyone left with them now eagerly supported her, had the same thirst for revenge as she did. Gendry included. He knows that no argument about Arya being Stoneheart’s daughter will stop them from decrying her for a murderer. It won’t stop them from trying to hang her too.

“You’re going to let us go, Harwin,” he says with purpose, leaving little room for the man to argue. “You’re going to tell them we left in the middle of the night, choosing to head back to the inn. Then maybe we were set upon by Freys or some other River lords. We were never in that tent.”

He looks over at Arya, still crouched beside him in the snow. Her hands are now pink and shriveled and she is levelling a cool gaze at Harwin.

“Aye.” The man nods his head. “You were never in that tent.” Gendry lets out an inaudible sigh, grateful that Harwin’s loyalty had extended to Arya this time, rather than the Brotherhood.

“You’ll need to go, quick. You know what paths the Brotherhood takes boy, what towns they stop in. Be careful.” He takes one last look at Arya before turning to make his way back up the sloped incline.

“Harwin,” Arya calls out.

“Milady?”

“What do you know of funeral rites in the Riverlands?”

“Very little, milady.”

“You’ll ask?” Her tone says that he must.

“Yes.” His back turns to them one last time as he walks off into the night.

Sensing she needs a minute longer, Gendry reluctantly settles down beside her in the snow, letting it soak through his breeches. Silence hangs between them, but his head is full of questions. Where has she been all of this time, if not in the north? Had she really been in Essos? How did she survive on her own? Had she been alone?

Instead he blurts out, “Everyone thought you were dead.”

She turns to look at him, a strange look passing over her face. “Arya Stark was dead,” is all she ends up saying, before looking down at her hands. He had known something was off when he had seen her again. That restless energy she’d had before she had disappeared seemed to be gone, replaced by something calmer. Her words had a different inflection to them.

“We need to leave before dawn. The Brotherhood’s not the only group of outlaws out here. If we head—”

“We don’t need to do anything, Gendry. I’m going North. And you should stay here.” She begins wiping snow off her breeches, preparing to get up.

He stares at her, dumbfounded. “Course I’m coming with you.”

“Don’t be stupid Gendry.”

He can feel his jaw clench and his nostrils flare. “No, Arya, you don’t be stupid.” She looks at him upon hearing her name, her movements stopping. “I thought you had died. I couldn’t stop you from running and for years I thought it had been my fault. And then we heard about your wedding—”

“It wasn’t my wedding,” she snaps. There’s anger in her voice now too, a hint of the old Arya returning.

“Yeah, well I know that now, don’t I? I was finally hearing you’re alive, only to be told it might’ve been better if you actually had died. But now, here you are, strolling through the woods, easy as you please, and I find you. I actually find you, safe and alive. Not dead, and not married to some bastard.” Her eyes have become downcast at that, and he sees her teeth are worrying her bottom lip, just as she used to do.

“Arya,” he hesitates, “I didn’t spend the last few years taking care of orphans and serving your mother for no reason.” He stops there, figuring it best to let a few things be left unsaid for now. “So, yeah, I’m not letting you leave without me. Not this time.”

She nods, the moon casting her pink, cold bitten cheeks into light. He clears his throat. “Alright. Like I said, we should leave soon. But why north?”

Her brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“The Riverlands aren’t safe Arya, but the North’s not much better. And if we get there, and someone recognizes you and realizes that the real Arya Stark isn’t holed up in some castle…”

“Gendry,” she starts, “all of my family is dead.” She lets out a humorless laugh. “I’ve just seen to that.” He winces. “Jon…well I’ve heard things about Jon, and I need to see for myself. I need to go north.”

“And your sister?”

“Sansa? What about her?”

“Not long ago we heard some news about her. Some say she’s been in the Vale with some lord from King’s Landing.”

She shakes her head. “No. No, I went to the Vale. Sansa’s long dead, I know it. The imp probably killed her,” she says with disgust.

He is taken aback by how much Arya’s reminds him of her mother in this moment. Or the version of her mother he had known. “Stoneheart was sure it wasn’t her neither. You really want to go north then? The winds are rising Arya, and I may have never been further than the Riverlands, but even I know it’ll be a hard journey.”

She leans forward into him, placing her left hand on his right. He looks down at where they’re joined. He knows her hands are freezing from drying in the cold night air, but all he feels there is heat. Her hands are still as small and soft as he remembers, though he can feel the slight dig of callouses along them. Shaking his head to clear it, he looks back up at her, their eyes meeting.

“I’ve heard horrible things about Jon, Gendry, all the way in—” she stops. “I need to see for myself. I need to find out what has happened to my brother.”

He’s noticed her incomplete sentence, but, seeing the distraught look in her eyes, drops it, finding himself wanting to reassure her. “We don’t get much news from the north Arya. I have no idea what’s waiting for us up there, but we will. We’ll find out about your brother.”

She shakes her head up and down quickly, eyes glistening. She looks tired, and Gendry doesn’t blame her. Who knows how much sleep she had been able to get traveling out here all on her own? After what she had been through today though, he doubted she would be having a peaceful sleep in a while.

He looks up at the sky, sees that they have been sitting there much longer than he had planned to. He is finally starting to feel the snow that has soaked through into his clothes and his ass is freezing. He looks back down at her, prepared to tell her they really need to leave this time, when he catches a peculiar look on her face. She is staring intently at his own, only her eyes aren’t focused on his, they seem to be focused on…oh.

His face starts to heat up despite the cold as she continues staring at his lips unabashedly. Her eyes flicker up to his quickly, the hand that had still been resting on his own now reaching up and landing firmly on his chest. He feels frozen as he sees her face moving slowly toward his. He is intensely aware right now of just how different this Arya is from the one he had all those years ago. For one, that Arya had been a child, hounded by hunger and constantly on the run. This Arya is near a woman grown, her body having filled out from age and consistent meals. That Arya had been wild, prone to outbursts and impatience. This Arya is calmer, with a calculating, almost predatory look in her eyes. As she closes more distance between the two of them, her cold breath mingling with his own, he realizes just how attracted he is to her.

He gulps nervously, knowing he should pull away. That he should insist they leave, right now. But he cannot seem to look away from her eyes, sensing a hint of vulnerability beneath the predatory gleam. He breathes out softly, nearly whispering, “Arya, what are you—” She cuts him off with her mouth. Her lips are cold and firm against his. They move against his for just a second before she breaks away.

He is staring at her, dumbfounded and confused. He can see the heat coloring his cheeks mirrored on her own. “Just wanted to know what it would be like as Arya Stark,” she says. His forehead scrunches up in thought. He figures there must be some truth to what the Tyroshi said about where she had been, given the odd way she has been prone to speak every few sentences. He had never heard anyone in Westeros refer to themselves by their own name like that.

He can barely form the words to ask about it when she says, “We should head out now. Dawn will come soon, and we’ve been here too long.” She stands, a hand offered out to him to pull him up. He grabs onto it, bringing himself to his feet. “We’ll need to steal some horses now that the Brotherhood has mine.”

She begins walking away from him, opposite the direction Harwin had gone. He can’t help shaking his head a bit at the confidence with which she is guiding them, despite not knowing her way around. He is glad to have seen glimpses of the old Arya within this new woman that has returned to him. He will not ask where she has come from just yet, who she has been with, or what she has been through. They will have plenty of time to speak on their way north, and he does not expect her to be willing to yield that information just yet.

As he begins following her, it feels as though a weight has been lifted from his chest. He is not proud of things he has done over the years in her mother’s name. In her name. As much as he had taken care of those orphans at the inn to try to atone for what had happened, it did not erase all of the blood that the Brotherhood had spilled and the death that they had brought that he had turned a blind eye to. Assisted in, even. Perhaps, over time, Gendry will be able to speak about that too.

He has caught up with her when she suddenly stops, glancing over her shoulder at him to say, “You still walk too loudly.” A small smile graces both of their lips as she faces forward again and continues on. Yes, they will have time.

As they continue on their way, moonlight the only thing to guide them, Gendry thinks he hears the sound of wolves in the distance, louder than they have been in months.

#axgweek #gendrya fic #axg fic #my fic #gendrya #arya x gendry fic

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shadowweirdo · 6 years ago

Note

Cotton Candy High ~acutelyaarachnophobic

Cotton Candy High: My muse is extremely hyper and your muse tries to calm them down.

Things had begun as they did most days when the group had to resupply. The group broke off into teams, got their supplies and returned to the camper without problems. They got all of the usuals- Fruits, veggies, barrels of water that would surely be contaminated by Shorty taking a dip in them later. But one item wasn’t quite right. The tea.

Eugene had insisted that he grabbed the right one from the market- That ‘All tea is the same’ and that Adira could ‘suck it up’ and not have fancy tea this one time. Well, as it turned out, not all tea was created equal.

“ ‘High Energy’ ?” Rapunzel questioned, reading the jar of tea leaves, “What do you think that means?”

“I think it means it’s made for a high energy person.” Eugene rolled his eyes, waving it off as he put away their grocery haul, “The way I see it, we give an extra dose of that to Adira and she’ll fall right asleep. Maybe we won’t have to listen to more of her amazing stories tonight.”

“I dunno, Eugene... Doesn’t that seem... sneaky?”

“Rapunzel... This is Adira we’re talking about. She’s the sneakiest person we’ve ever met... It’s fair.”

The princess disagreed but she also knew that if this ended up being a huge mistake, sometimes Eugene had to learn the hard way.

Little did she know- the true extent of this error.

“Have you guys ever seen a six legged horse? They’re spoken of in ancient legends and believed to be myth- But if you know where to look you can absolutely find one. But not harpies. Those aren’t real. I tried to find them once and it turned out that they were just very eccentric old crones who wore feather cloaks.”

Adira spoke without pausing for BREATH as they sat around the fire. her stories flowing together so fluidly it was hard to tell where exactly one ended. Did they end? Was this all one long story that stretched on for hours?

Lance looked on in a confused mix of amusement, adoration and bafflement. He’d never seen Adira so chatty. At least not with the REST of the group. He’d also never seen her fidget so openly where she sat. Drumming her fingers against her knees, bouncing her legs.

More apparent was how little ADIRA was used to it. Even as she rambled on and on, her expression swapped from lively to uncomfortable. She’d never experienced such a rush of energy so late in the evening. Now were the hours when it was time to relax and rest her body. She made a point not to over exert herself in the evening hours. To allow her muscles to rest and heal so she could move in the morning... But she just.. couldn’t. Sit. STILL.

“Adira? Are you feeling okay?” Lance chanced to ask, not sure if he should reach out and put his hand on her shoulder or not.

“What? Me? I’m fine.” She answered abruptly. Her hands curling into balled fists as she looked at him. Not because she was UPSET but because she was trying to suppress the urge to fidget further.

“You sure? You seem a little.... high strung.” Lance tried to lower his voice, as if the others hearing might embarras her in some way. Not that they hadn’t all noticed- Rapunzel was giving Eugene quite the look on their side of the campfire.

Lance had eaten enough sweets in his life to recognize a sugar rush when he saw one. Or maybe caffeine? Either way, Adira was clearly hyped up on something. The former thief exhaled and gave the warrior woman a smile.

“Hey- You wanna go for a walk? I gotta stretch my legs.”

Adira blinked at him, not sure what he was planning. He couldn’t see in the dark as well as she could. Nor was he as immune to the spooks that hid in the evening shadows. Why would he want to GO anywhere?

“... Sure.”

The pair set off into the forest together. Wandering aimlessly but briskly through the tall columns of trees around them. Adira continued to chatter, regailing him with her stories of heroism and the horrifying creatures she’d happened upon. He listened as eagerly and politely as ever. Interjecting only to ask her more about a detail she nearly flew right past. Though she didn’t fully understand his motive, Lance knew that she needed to get this energy out of her system. He knew he had to get her to let it out if she was ever going to sleep. If ANY of them were.

And soon, any moment, the inevitable would happen.

She’d crash.

“Then I traveled across the volcanic lands of-” Adira’s latest tangent skidded to a halt after many hours as the long awaited event happened. She stopped to yawn. A deep, sincere yawn that left her like a lion’s roar.

Lance was barely holding on. Dragging his feet as he walked beside her but hanging in there for her sake. His yawns came in big waves, crashing over him like an ocean of exhaustion. But he could do this. He was going to support her and make sure she was okay. He was going to get that energy out of her system in a way that was comfortable for her and make sure she made it back to the camp safely.

“Sleepy?” he asked, his tone almost hopeful as he considered her.

The white haired woman blinked, her paces slow and lethargic as they circled back toward the camper. She didn’t know what happened to her... But now she just felt AWFUL. Drained completely of whatever energy had found its way into her body.

“No, no, I-” yaaawwwn- “I’m fine. But we should... get YOU back to camp. You’re tired.”

Despite her attempts to cover herself, they both knew the truth. She wasn’t going to last much longer.

When they returned back to the camp, the fire was smoldering and dying as the rest of the gang lay already tucked in their bunks. Adira helped Lance lift his sleep heavy limbs up into his bunk before taking a seat at the table below him.

“how are you feeling?” The man chanced to whisper, leaning over the edge of the mattress to look at the shadowy outline of her below.

The only answer he got from the darkness was Eugene’s snoring and Adira’s peaceful breathing.

The next day the group decided that the evil tea was BANNED from dinner time from then on.

@acutelyarachnophobic

#this got rambly because i had to concieve a reason for ADIRA to be hyper #... i dont know if i like this #i rewrote it twice #still dont think everyone is IC #Anonymous

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sympathyfortheblinderdevil · 7 years ago

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The Cursed Side of This Family Chapter 5

(look here for chapter 4) (look here for Chapter 6)

Slow burn, Tommy x Esme, grief, guilt, lust, drugs…What’s not to love?

In this installment, Esme has a sexy flashback...

Drifting in and out of sleep, Esme could not seem to find the rest that she needed. She was all out of smoke, and wouldn’t dare ask Tommy if he had any, even though she knew that he would sometimes use it to help him quiet his mind when nothing else would.

She got out of bed and tiptoed to the window. Drawing the lace curtain aside and looking down on watery lane, she recalled that this was not the first time that Thomas Shelby left her flushed, confused, and restless.

Her thoughts wandered back to an accidental late night meeting in Charlie’s yard. John had come home drunk, loud, and smelling of whores one too many times. Esme had practically thrown the baby into his arms and then stalked out the door, leaving him with a houseful of newly woken, bawling children. “Fuck you, Esme!” John slurred at her back as she walked away.

“It’ll be cold day in hell before you get the pleasure again,” she roared through gritted teeth as she stormed down the lane. Their relationship had always been odd. Fixed. Arranged. But, the spark of passion was there from the first night, for both of them, and it always hurt her when he strayed. They viciously fought, but making-up was always sweet. She knew that tomorrow morning he would pick a bouquet of wildflowers, bring her tea in bed, and put his head in her lap. He’d be all baleful looks and tears, begging for her forgiveness. As always, she would forgive him.

Tonight, however, Esme was full of devilment. She half considered going into the Garrison to even the score. There was no doubt she could find someone with which to spend the night. She was not a conventional beauty, but she was sexy. A riot of wild black hair tumbled over her shoulders and down her back, her black eyes flashed under their sweeping lashes, and the curves of her body had only become more supple and pronounced in motherhood. She was everything a man could want in his bed, but she didn’t want any man’s bed. As easy as it would have been to make John pay for his indiscretions by knowing that she had fucked another man, she could never go through with it. Her heart wouldn’t let her, and it would be as good as a death warrant for the poor man whom she bedded.

The night air was crisp and felt good in her lungs, cooling her down and helping her to gain control of her emotions. She boldly decided to walk as far as Charlie’s yard. One of her favorite mares had delivered a foal, and she had yet to see it. The horses always helped her to see sense. She’d always said that she’d been born riding, and that wasn’t far from the truth. Growing up on the road, horses were a part of her everyday life before she could crawl. Their gentle majesty grounded her, and in the crazy world of Small Heath Esme needed to visit them often. The risk of walking through the dark streets was well worth it to her if she ended up at the stables.

As she approached the stables, she noticed a faint light and thought that maybe Curly had come down to check on the new foal. She called out, “Curly, it’s just me, Esme. I’ve come to see the black mare and her…” Before she could finish, the door swung open and Tommy, wild eyed, stood in the doorway. “Come on in, Esme. Don’t let me stop you.”

“I…I didn’t know you were here, Thomas.”

“Does it matter?”

“No…” it sounded like a question coming out of her mouth, but she could see that something was definitely very wrong with Tommy and she didn’t know quite how to approach him. Tommy wasn’t wearing his usual jacket. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and his shirt was soaked with sweat

Esme carefully ventured a question, “Where’s the foal?”

“Dead. He didn’t make it.” Peering from the shadows, he never broke eye contact as he spoke to her, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. As he spoke, the familiar scent of whiskey reached Esme’s nose.

“I’m sorry Thomas.” Esme spoke softly, carefully, almost as if she was speaking to a horse that could easily spook.

“No need for that. It’s all part of it, eh?” he lied.

But she knew better. Thomas Shelby never lost his cool. He could stare down the barrel of a gun without flinching, but the death of the foal had shaken him. He loved horses more than he could love most people. That was something that he and Esme had in common. He stepped into the light and she noticed that his eyes, which had finally shifted away hers, were red and wet.

“Couldn’t wait until morning to see an ‘orse? Don’t you think the streets of Small Heath are a bit more hospitable in the light of day?” As he spoke he handed Esme a nearly empty bottle of whiskey.

Taking the bottle, Esme snarled, “Your pig of a brother came home drunk and smelling of whores. It was either leave the house or gut him with a kitchen knife.” She drained the remaining contents of the bottle and handed it back to Tommy.

Tommy barely suppressed a low chuckle.

“It’s not funny, Thomas.”

“You’re right, my girl. It’s not. He should treat you with a bit more respect. At least wash up and put on a fresh shirt before he crawls home.”

“Fuck you, Thomas.”

“Oh, come on, Esme. I’m only pointing out the absurdity of the situation. Why on earth would he need to fuck whores when he has you at home? I would never do that to you.”

Esme felt a warmth run down her spine at his words, for they were spoken softly and sincerely. When Tommy raised his icy blue gaze back to hers, she could feel her cheeks flush and her stomach draw into a knot.

“Thank you, Thomas.” She whispered.

The corners of his lips raised a little, almost into a smile, but not quite.

His words implied an affection for her that she never knew had existed, and her mind slid sideways. Thomas actually cared about her. The king of Small Heath, with his razor crown, had a beating heart after all. They stood in thick silence for what seemed like hours. Their eyes locked on to each other until it felt, surreally, like they were drawing closer.

“Right then. Let’s get you home. I don’t want you wandering the streets of Small Heath at this hour. A bit unseemly, don’t you think?” Tommy spoke, and the spell was broken.

Tommy led her to a stall which held a white stallion. “How ‘bout I take you home on ‘im?”

Esme lit up as the horse nuzzled her hand. “He’s beautiful, Tom. Where’d you get him?”

“Won ‘im off Johnny Dogs. One day that Gypsy bastard will learn not to bet against me.”

Esme laughed, in spite of herself. She knew that Tommy’s Grandfather was a Gypsy King, and he meant no harm against her kin.

The night was getting colder by the minute, and Esme was grateful for the warmth that the whiskey had provided. Tommy pulled his coat on, and grabbed an extra one that he kept at the stables.

“Here, put this on. It’s gotten colder since you came in.”

Esme gratefully bundled up in Tommy’s coat. It smelled like Tommy’s sweat, whiskey, horses, and smoke- a smell not very unlike John’s.

Outside on the gravel Tommy helped her mount. She hitched her dress up and swung her leg over, a little embarrassed at the view that Tommy would have. She was more embarrassed when she saw the red state of his ears as he mounted behind her. Tommy clicked his tongue and the horse began to lope down the lane. Riding through the streets bareback, Esme had to grip the horse with her thighs. Simultaneously, she could feel the warmth of Tommy’s body at her back and his slow steady breath on her ear.

She had never been this close to him before. Tommy had always kept a carefully guarded distance from her. Where Arthur’s demeanor always had the rough affection of a brother, with his bear hugs and mussing up her hair, Tommy always kept a formal tone. Now, she was sat between his thighs, and rocking movement of the horse did little to quiet the stirring she felt between hers.

As they rode past the BSA, flames from the forge spooked the stallion, and he reared up on his back legs. Tommy gripped Esme tightly to him, leaving no room between them. She could feel his heart racing against her back, and she soon realized that he had his chin on her shoulder and his cheek pressed to her’s. His hand was just under her breasts, strong and insistent. He pulled the reins and spoke in rich, low tones to the animal, shushing and reassuring him. Even with all the whiskey Tommy had consumed, he kept a clear head when it came to horses, and he soon had the stallion calmed down. Esme caught her breath and relaxed against Tommy’s chest. It took a second too long for him to loosen his grip on her waist and for his chin to leave her shoulder, but Esme didn’t mind.

They soon were at the door to the house she shared with John, who burst out into the street the second that they rode up.

Tommy dismounted first. “I have brought your wife home, Brother. I need a word with you.”

They walked a few feet away and Tommy bent down, his mouth close to John’s ear. He murmured something that made John’s head snap up. John glared at Tommy defiantly. Tommy put his hand on the back of John’s neck and pulled him closer again. He hissed something into John’s ear and John nodded his resignation to whatever Tommy had said.

Tommy returned to help Esme down, and once she was on the ground he faced her. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble out of him for a while.”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles, Thomas Shelby.” Esme snapped, immediately regretting her harsh tone. “But, thank you. For everything,” she said with a much softer voice.

Once inside the house, John started babbling a stream of apologies. Esme held her hand up to him, and said, “Just leave it, John. I’ll be up in a bit.”

John went up the stairs, and Esme fixed herself a glass of whiskey. She swirled the amber liquid and smiled. It smelled like Thomas. Tomorrow, she would be John’s faithful and loving wife, but tonight, in John’s bed, she’d close her eyes and imagine herself getting up to a little devilment.

(Look here for Chapter 6)

#peaky blinder imagines #tommy shelby #esme shelby #john shelby #Peaky Blinders fiction

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imagineclaireandjamie · 7 years ago

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A Hundred Lesser Faces: Sixteen

Section One {A Hundred Lesser Faces} what if Voyager!Claire had gone first to Lallybroch instead of directly to the print shop in Edinburgh? : [(One) (Two) (Three) (Four) (Five) (Six) (Seven)

Section Two {A Hundred More}, the aftermath of Claire and Jamie’s reunion, following their journey as they work to build a new life together [(Eight) (Nine) (Ten) (Eleven) (Twelve) (Thirteen) (Fourteen) ]

Section Three {Begin and Tell}, Now with EVEN MOAR AFTERMATH! [(Fifteen) ]

Sixteen

“Oh Jesus, Claire, I’ve been—I thought ye were—I canna believe—”

I yelped as Jenny, oblivious to my injured arm (Jesus, maybe I had fractured something), flung both her own around me, kneeling before me in the road and clinging like she would never, ever let go, gasping. “He isna—The marriage isna happy—The bairns are no’ his—He’s—Oh, God—Claire! Ye came back!”

I didn’t push her away. I didn’t even move, come to that. I was too bloody stunned to do anything except sit like a stone, arms pinned to my sides, absolutely dumbfounded as the words poured out of my tiny sister-in-law in frantic sobs.

“Jamie, he—he read your letter and went straight after ye—Ran out wi’ his soul afire but it was —Each day that’s passed, I kent deeper and deeper in my heart that he’d lost ye for good and that it was all my FAULT and—Oh my God....”

This last was a whimper as she held me tighter and fell completely to pieces against my shoulder. “I’m—so—sorry—Claire,” I heard faintly as she shook. “So—verra—Even before I told Jamie, all the day before he arrived, it was eatin’ me alive wi’ SHAME, and—”

I managed to pry her loose and hold her back by the wrists to look her in the eye. A creature more different than the cold, vicious woman who had sent me away from Lallybroch three weeks ago could scarcely be imagined. There were deep, dark circles under her eyes, and she looked as though she’d lost a frightening amount of weight in a short time. She looked pale, thin, and utterly defeated. There was no steel of biting judgement in those Fraser eyes, now, no seething poisonous anger—just an open wound of regret and relief, from which her jumble of half-coherent thoughts kept running out in bursts.

“I tried to tell him—tell Jamie—how truly sorry I—but he wouldna—He was so angry wi’ me, Claire—blazin’ and—ANIMAL wi’ rage and—” She shuddered, violently, the panic written in every line and twitching muscle. “ — and he had every right, but—And then he was gone, so sudden-like, burstin’ out the door after ye — Ridin’ like he’d race to hell to get ye back—But he kent ye might already be lost, forever, ag — again, and—” She sobbed harder. “And I didna have the chance to make him hear how sorry—How much I hated mys — HATE myself for—”

“Jenny?”

She flinched at the word as violently as if I’d slapped her, though I’d spoken it with painstaking gentleness, scarcely more than a whisper. In fact, I felt almost beatifically calm. Between Jamie’s recent fury and Jenny’s obvious devastation over what she’d done, my own rage and need for revenge seemed very distant in my heart, at present. It was shocking, honestly, how steady I felt in asking it, as though I were only mildly curious: “Just tell me why.”

“I was angry,” Jenny said at once, the words tumbling out in a choked, breathy rush. “Angry that ye’d left us wi’out a word—left Jamie alone.”

That much I’d known already, but I couldn’t ignore the need to be justified. “Jenny, I didn’t lea—”

“I know.” She took my face in both her hands, and for the first time in all the years I’d known her, I felt like the smaller of us. Her eyes were soft with sorrow, wide with the need to be heard. “I do ken it, Claire. Or...rather....I believe ye— that there must be more to things than they seem. I trust your word.”

There was such sincerity in her eyes, such tenderness and love in her touch, that I felt my throat tighten—at the sheer childlike relief of having this woman’s warm light stretched out to cover me at last, after such a devastating first reunion. Still....I couldn’t simply forget.

“Why couldn’t you believe it then?” Still calm, my voice, but it trembled as I struggled to suppress my own tears. “When I was telling you so to your face—why couldn’t you trust in me, then?”

She had withdrawn her hands and closed her eyes at the first question, lips pursed, head bowed, like a convicted offender, submitting to the axe. I didn’t think she was going to answer at all, but then a small voice—

“Maybe I was jealous.”

“....Of me?”

“Aye.”

For one blazing moment of disgust, all thought of tears vanished, and I wondered if I could take back every single word to Jamie about the necessity of reconciliation. If this woman was honestly mad enough to begrudge a brother’s love toward his wife—

But I saw her expression as she struggled to catch her breath to speak, and my heart quieted at once.

“Not only do ye appear out of the clear blue sky, Claire—after so many long years, but ye show up lookin’ all— so — ” She gestured helplessly to my person. “So damned beautiful and young and healthy and—And life has clearly been far kinder to ye than it had been for us, and....When I saw ye in the dooryard— I could feel it in my body, ken? As though it were a fire, set off at the edges of my mind, burnin’ up my decency and compassion and—Christ, all my good sense, and — I kent it was wicked .... heartless..... but I couldna help meself.”

“And that—that jealousy,” I said carefully, still levelly, with no scorn, “was enough to make you want to take Jamie away from me? Me away from him?”

“Yes — NO! — No, it wasna—I canna—It was EVERYTHIN’, Claire! All of it together! And perhaps most of all, there was the fact that — ” She looked up at the sky as though for help, a little moan of despair escaping her lips. “I’d been the one to push Jamie into the damned marriage in the first place, see? ME. And I’d kent even then that it wasna blessed. I saw your own fetch at the weddin’, for Bride’s sake, and I was fool enough to ignore it, and—And if ye’d come back, now, it would mean I’d been wrong to have him go through wi’ it, when I’d been given plain warning from above, and the GUILT of it—” She heaved a breath to choke down the rising panic, and I had to give her credit for looking me dead in the eye as she said it. “I made up my mind that it was better to act as though ye’d never been there. I‘d bury the the letter and no one would be any the wiser....It was reckless, shortsighted....cruel....I was lookin’ after my own selfish heart....I did ye both so much wrong, unforgivably...I’ll never stop tryin’ to make it right...if ye’ll let me.”

The shame of admission hung heavy on her shoulders. I could see it, weighing her down like a cross, all those wrongs. Anger. Indignant rage. Petty resentment run amok. Crippling guilt. Didn’t I know the power of those things, too? To wound and damage?

I reached out and took her hand, squeezing.

She looked up at me at once, eyes still brimming, clinging to the tentative hope my touch promised. “Everything can be well again, Claire, I swear it. Ye came back, and once he kens it, Jamie will put aside Laoghaire at once, I know he—OH!”

Before I could interrupt and tell her that I knew, she was standing and trying to pull me to my feet, too. “We’ll go after him, together, at once! I’ll leave a message for the family in town and we’ll ride until we find him. Ye’ve no idea—NONE—how overjoyed he’ll be to see—”

“Jenny—Jenny, stop!” I gasped. She was so alight with the fire of promised action, redemption, that she didn’t notice I was resisting, nor that she was hurting me. Yes, I must have had a hairline fracture or some sort of damage beyond bruising, for my vision was going black around the edges as I tried to get free of her grip. “Jenny, there’s no need! Jamie and I—”

“GET AWAY FROM HER!”

Jenny jumped, and though Jamie’s shout had startled me as much as her, I was also deeply touched to see that her immediate reflex was to shield me, flinging her arms out wide to face the attacker.

When she realized who it was, though, saw him leaping down from the horse, she started sobbing harder and was running toward him, flying on a wind of breathtaking joy. “JAMIE! Oh, Ja—”

But he brushed past her as though she weren’t even there, leaving her standing in the road.

“What has she done to ye, mo chridhe?” he demanded as he dropped to his knees next to me, hands jarring more than gentling in his haste to check me over. His voice was urgent but cold in his alarm. “She hurt ye?”

“I’m fine,” I panted, “just landed on my shoulder, but I’m fine. An accident”

“I heard the screams—and you’re bleeding,” he said, voice still frighteningly alien, and sure enough, the fingers he brushed over my hairline had blood on them. “What did she do?” he demanded again.

“She didn’t do it on purpose,” I said at once, “the horse got spooked and threw me and—It was a complete accident, Jamie, truly, Jenny didn’t—”

“Ye’d—already—found him?”

Both our heads swiveled to watch the hoarse, broken voice. Jenny was surveying the pair of us with such a symphony of emotion and realization moving over her face and body, it was both beautiful and painful to witness. “Oh, God be praised,” she whispered, crossing herself, beaming beneath her sobs. “Jamie, mo chridhe—Ye found her in time!”

Her barely-contained joy drained ounce by ounce as Jamie stood.

“Tell me what it is you’re doing here, Janet.” His voice was deathly quiet. Dangerous. “Why it is ye came to encounter my wife today and cause her harm.”

She was pale, but determined. “I was on my way to visit Maggie, and just happened to come across her on the path and—Jamie, I tried to tell ye at the house,” she blurted suddenly, stepping toward him as though she couldn’t control her own body. “How sorry I was. I meant it, trul— Jamie? JAMIE, stop this moment, where are ye going?”

For the moment she’d confirmed that our meeting had been pure coincidence, Jamie had turned to help me to my feet, ushering me firmly toward the horses.

“Jamie, ye canna go!” Jenny was begging. “Wait!”

“Jamie, wait,” I echoed, panting, head spinning in more ways than one as Jamie helped me get my foot into the stirrup. “W—”

“Ye must stay and hear me out!” Jenny was hovering at Jamie’s elbow as he lifted me bodily up into the saddle. She was getting more desperate with every word. “Ye canna turn your back on me like this, brother! Ye must—”

He whirled and she leapt backward. “Tell me what it is, precisely, that I MUST do for your sake, Janet.”

From my forced vantage point in the saddle, I had a clear view of the heartbreaking scene on the roadway. Jamie, enraged, drawn up to his full height, like a bear about to attack; Jenny, ten feet away but all but cowering before him, eyes tight-shut, lips pursed and shaking, waiting for the slicing of claws. He would never physically harm her, I would have sworn to that; but there were sharp edges in his voice, and no mistaking them, deadly enough to slice and maim, leaving permanent scars.

“Would I EVER have kept Ian from ye so?” His teeth were clenched tight, as were his shaking fists. “Would I EVER have turned him away? Your very heart, the breath of your body? Shunned him at the door, as though he were worthy of less hospitality than a stranger? Wi’out a thought for your heart or happiness, let alone his?”

“No...ye wouldna....Never could ye have done such a terrible thing......No decent person...” She was sobbing again; it was a wonder she was able to speak at all. “But Jamie, mo chridhe, listen to me, let me apol—”

“Ye LIED to her!” Jamie bellowed, lunging a step forward before he could stop himself. “Deliberately deceived her into believing me happy with Laoghaire—” this he spat with the utmost contempt, “then let hour upon HOUR pass upon my arrival before telling me a GODDAMNED word about her having been there! That there was still a chance I could catch her!”

“I’m so—”

“It came down to a matter of MOMENTS, woman—the difference between reaching Claire in time and losing her forever. Had ye waited two minutes longer to tell me, it would have been as though you’d slit her throat before my eyes. And I dinna think I shall ever be able to look upon ye and see aught but that very knife in your hand. The fact that I caught her in the end doesna change what ye meant to do—what ye did—to me.” He leaned forward and snarled, contempt and hatred in every syllable. “So tell me what it is I MUST do, this day. What I owe you.”

“What I did—was—wrong—Evil,” Jenny gasped out, coughing and struggling to get enough breath, “I kent it then, and I ken it now. I’ve scarcely eaten nor slept since ye left to go after her, nor been able to leave my bed for the shame of it—But ye found one another,” she gasped out again, trying to smile and move slowly toward him. “God restored your true heart to ye at last, despite my terrible actions.” She was nearly close enough to touch him, and she reached up to lay a hand on his cheek. “I’ll do anythin’, whatever ye demand for the rest of my life—to make it right wi’ ye both, mo chr—”

He turned his back before she could touch him, and was mounted on his horse the next moment, turning us in the direction Broch Morda.

“Jamie,” she moaned, both arms clutching round herself, as if they didn’t know what else to do. “Please.”

“Jamie, wait,” I said quietly, but then stopped. I knew that now was not the time for forcing rapprochement, but my heart was absolutely breaking for both brother and sister. But I had to say something, to give him one more chance to stay. “Aren’t you going to Balriggan? To settle with L—?”

“Not today.” He kicked up and galloped off toward town without a backward glance.

I did look back, though, and the look on Jenny’s face as she crumpled haunted me long past the time she disappeared from view over my shoulder.

#;mod bonnie #A Hundred Lesser Faces

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the-lady-and-her-chat · 7 years ago

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The Lady and The Cat

Ch. 4

The festival had been a success.

Tom rode home in his cart with a satchel heavy with coin and souvenirs for his beloved wife and daughter. The only thing he regretted was that he could not find anything decorated with roses for Marinette. Fall had come and thus everything for sale bore autumn leaves instead of the flowers of summer.

He knew Marinette would understand, but he had still felt bad at being able to fulfill her simple request,After all, she had always asked for so little.

As he rode down the vacant country road, the sun quickly made it's descent. The trees casting long shadows over him.

Tom quickly consulted his map, he knew there was a small inn that should not have been far off. He stayed there in the trip to the festival, but now it seemed he could not find the road markers or signs that would lead him there.

How odd…

The only sound in the quiet road was a cat meowing in the distance and it's slim black form ran across the road. The sudden movement spooked his horse, and Tom had to pause for a bit to calm the poor creature. When he looked up, it was darker now. He had to find the inn soon. Or sit out in the dark forest all night. Which was definitely not ideal. That's when he had finally spotted it. Lights in the distance. It must have been the inn!

Tom flicked the reins and drove his horse forward and down the side road that led to the lights. However that's when he saw that it was most definitely not an inn or a town or even a house. It was a grand manor, or rather a small castle, he honestly was not quite sure with description suited it better. But there was no denying that this was a grand estate, it had to belong to some wealthy noble or business man. The light that had caught his eye were the lanterns that lit the tall iron gate. The open iron gate.

Tom weighed his options. But with the darkening sky and the night chill setting in, he decided it would be best to see if there was anyone present that could help him, or at least give him directions. So Tom rode up the grand drive, the now bare trees that lined it were gnarled and overgrown, their crooked branches reaching up toward the rising moon.

After he had stopped and ensured his horse would not go anywhere, the man walked up the stone steps to the large doors and knocked on the iron knocker three times. He noted the feline like snarl of the creature it was molded after, and the door itself open.

“Hello, traveler.” Greeted a young man in what looked to be a butler's uniform. “What brings you here?”

“Evening sir. I was riding along the road and got lost as it was getting dark. I was so seeing if you had directions to the nearest inn.”

The young man clicked his tongue in thought. “the nearest inn… why that's much too far off. I think you might have taken a wrong turn my friend. You'll have to go all way back to the fork in the road and take the other way. I'm afraid there are no other inns up the road. At least not for several miles.”

Tom tried not to let his face drop. The fork in the road he had spoken of was miles away. It would take him hours to backtrack.

The young man smiled with sympathy, his emerald eyes seeping warmth. “Come in good sir. I can't possible let a weary traveler go out in the dark and bitter cold.”

“oh thank you for your kindness sir. But I would hate to impose. And shouldn't you ask the lord of this house-”

The butler held up a hand. “good sir you have no need to worry. My Lord would insist on you spending the evening with us. He is a kind young man that would not have the heart to send a weary man away.” He ushered Tom inside the warm foyer and shut the door. “I'll send someone to see to your horse. And I'll see what cook can fix you up in the kitchen for you.”

He took Tom's cloak and asked for his name.

“Oh. I am Tom Dupain. A pleasure. “ He shook his hand.

“Plagg. I'm head butler here.”

Tom thought the fellow had a strange name, but did not mention it as he led him down a hall. The entire house seemed to be lit only by small lanterns or candles that were spaced apart. Any chandeliers he saw remained unlit. It only just enough lighting to ensure one would not run Into a wall or furniture.

Tom asked Plagg about this.

“Oh. Lord Noir, though a kind fellow, is rather self conscious. He was in a terrible accident months ago and it's left him rather beaten up. So he prefers the dim lighting.”

“That sounds awful. He seems like he's taken it rather hard.”

Plagg merely shrugged his shoulders. “I'm sure he'll get out of it soon. For now we just deal with his over dramatics.” He waved his slender hand and gestured to the dim hall as if to emphasize his point. “just try not to mention it. He really is a sensitive lad.”

Plagg paused In front of an oak door and motioned for Tom to wait in the hall while he spoke to the master. Tom waited as Plagg vanished behind the door.

Adrien was letting nerves get the best of him. Which is how he knew what they were doing was bad, Adrien never had nerves. Why had he let Plagg talk him Into this?

No cloak, bad lighting, or stupid story was going to fool anyone into thinking he was normal.

Plagg found Adrien fiddling with his hood in the sitting room that led into the dining room.

“We have company.” Plagg grinned, his green lit up the darkened space. Adrien knew that Plagg could take on a human form, it was just odd to hear the annoying cats voice coming from the tall and lean young man before him. Especially in a suit, Plagg was not the suit type at all.

The cat straightened the boys hood like a mother cat. ‘His name Is Tom Dupain. And you are going to have dinner.”

“ I'm not so sure about this anymore…”

“nonsense! Ask him about his family. Get him to talk about his daughter. Befriend the man, anything that can get that girl on our doorstep.” He stopped straightening his hair. “Remember. Make a good impression, Lord Noir.”

Adrien groaned at the Alias Plagg had proudly come up for him this morning. A little on the nose, But he could not think of anything better.

As Plagg exited the room to fetch their guest, Adrien made sure the ring in his right hand was there. Plagg would not tell him where he had gotten it, but he assured him that the charm on the ring would fool the naked eye into believing what it saw was human. The spell was not perfect though. If the person stared for too long or the wearer was in bright light, the spell would not work. His curse was just far too powerful to fully hide. But it would have to do for now.

Plagg let the man named Tom in, and he forced a smile on his face. “Evening sir. Welcome to my home.” Adrian shook the mans hand and noted the firm grip Tom possessed. His father used to tell him you could tell a lot about a man from how firm his handshake was. And with his firm calloused grip and warm smile, Adrian could tell that Tom was a good man. He was probably a loving father as well, and he felt the pang of guilt in his gut at the thought of taking this good man's daughter from him.

“Its a pleasure sir. Thank you so much for your kindness.” Tom's eyes were warm and kind.

“The pleasure is mine sir, we so rarely get company all the way out here.” He released his hand. “I am Lord Noir. Plagg tells me your name is Tom Dupain. Am I correct?”

He nodded. “That I am sir. I am from a village just west of here, I was traveling home from the Harvest festival when I got lost and ended up here.”

“yes, these roads can be quite tricky to navigate. I can't say I blame you. It's easy to miss signs and find landmarks when everything is just trees, trees, and more trees.”

Tom chuckled. “That it is. I must be more mindful next time.”

“well for now fate has brought you to our doorstep Mr. Dupain, and we are happy to have you.” Adrien smiled at the man.

He had not noticed that Plagg had left the room and was surprised when he re entered and cleared his throat. “gentlemen, dinner is served.”

Plagg is ushered them into the dining room where two plates piled with steaming food sat on the table. Plagg poured the drinks as they sat.

“This looks delicious.” Tom complimented.

“I'll give cook the compliment.” Plagg smiled and went to stand by the wall. The image of a good servant. Adrien snickered to himself at the thought.

“So is it only you here Lord Noir?”

“Yes, my father prefers the city to the countryside I'm afraid. And I'm the opposite.” Adrien sipped his wine. Maybe this would be easier with some wine in him. “And You? Are you on your own?”

Tom shook his head. “No. I have a lovely wife and daughter waiting back home for me.”

Adrien noted The tenderness in his voice at the mention of his family. “If they are related to you, I'm sure they are lovely ladies indeed.”

Tom nodded. “I've known my wife Sabine since we were teenagers. I still recall seeing her walk by my father's bakery everyday when I was young. I thought she was the most beautiful girl in our village.” The look in his face told Adrian that Tom still thought that way about Sabine.

“What about your daughter? How old is she?”

“Marinette turned eighteen earlier this year. She's been working her fingers to the bone to get an apprenticeship at a dress shop in town. I wouldn't be surprised if she had gotten it when I return.”

“Really? Then that means she's about my age then.” Adrien had let slip out.

“You're Marinette's age? I wouldn't have guessed. You're quite a tall lad, I would have guessed you were a few years older.”

Adrian shrugged. “I'm a growing boy, what can I say.”

Tom chuckled and sipped his wine. “I was the same way though when I was your age. Shot up like weed.”

The two continued to talk through dinner. Tom seemed quite interested in the bread rolls and dessert. Saying that a good baker is always on the lookout for good recipes.

Adrien had taken a liking to Mr. Dupain. He was a kind man, and showed Adrien more warmth than his own father had shown him in years. They had continued to talk long after the dishes were cleared and only stopped when the clock striked the hour, showing how late it was.

“My how time flies.” Tom noted.

“I'll have Plagg show you to a guest room.” Adrien said. “I have enjoyed our talk though.”

Tom nodded. “yes. You're quite a charming young man. I think you and my dear Marinette would make good friends.”

Yes! This was the opportunity he was waiting for! “ Then I insist you come and visit with her sometime. I think I would find her charming as well. And if she's interested in being a dressmaker, I can certainly help with that. My family has a good deal in stock in the clothing industry and trade, I can help point her in the right direction.”

Toms eyes widened in surprise. “You're too kind Lord Noir-”

“Nonsense my friend. I'm happy to be of service. And if your daughter is looking for work, my own tailor had retired recently, and I'm looking for some new garments. Perhaps Marinette can provide what I'm looking for.”

“I'll certainly ask her the moment I get home. I can assure you of her talents, and her work ethic. Anything Marinette makes she won't let go until she deems it perfect.”

Adrien smiled. “If she's anything like you, I have no doubt in my mind of that sir. Just send a letter with her answer as soon as you're able.”

Tom thanked him over and over providing such an opportunity before wishing him good night and going to his room. He had done it. He fooled Tom and given his daughter a grand offer. This had to work. It just had too…

Plagg busted through the door, clearly giddy. “You did it, you little genius!” Plagg plopped himself onto an arm chair that sat by the fire, clearly content with tonight turn of events. “offering a girl a job, I didn't even Think of that. When I was spying I saw how hard she worked at that dress shop, there's no way she could turn this down!”

Adrien stared out the window. “you really think this will work Plagg?”

“I can feel it in my stomach…” Plagg grinned to himself as he scanned the cheese plates in front of him before selecting one to pop in his mouth.

“what… is she like? This Marinette.” every time he said her name ,she did not feel real. Like the idea of a person rather someone with a life of her own.

Plagg shrugged. “I'm not good with girls honestly. But i think you would like her. Cute little thing, good head on her shoulders.”

“Is that all you're going to tell me?’

“now what would be the fun in ruining the surprise?”

The next morning at breakfast, Tom looked well rested and ready head out.

“I'll have your horse ready for you.” Adrien assured. Though they did not have the cover of night on his side now, the heavy velvet curtains were shut. He prayed the rings spell would hold up just for another hour or two.

“Thank you so much again for your kindness. I'll also be sure to send word of Marinettes answer.”

“I look forward to it. And I do hope our paths cross again.”

Tom was insistent on leaving right after breakfast, so he'd have day to travel, he had explained.

Plagg had ensured he had a basket of food and drink to keep him taken care of on the road, and Adrien Stuck to the shadows of the front steps as Tom bid them both farewell.

They shook hands, “Safe travels my friend.”

“Thank you Lord. I hope to repay your kindness someday.” And then Tom surprised Adrien by pulling him into a warm embrace. Perhaps Tom was just a very affectionate man, but the strength and warmth that enveloped him was so fatherly and genuine that the boy gladly returned the embrace.

“I hope we see one another again.” was all he said before waving the baker off as he returned to his small cart and horse. He and Plagg continued to wave until Mr. Dupain passed the gate and turned on to the road that would take him home to Sabine and their daughter.

“...and now we wait.” was all Plagg said.

#adrien agreste #the lady and the cat #mlb au #tom dupain #plagg #Beauty and the Beast AU #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug au #mlb fanfiction #marinette cheng #marinette dupain-cheng

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