#‘3 women from this village have gone missing’ my brother looked at me like

[princesspiratecat]

The Rise and Fall of the Shepard Family Part 29: Summer, 1084 & Fall, 1085

Part 1& Part 2

Part 3 & Part 4

Part 5 & Part 6 & Part 7

Part 8 & Part 9 & Part 10

Part 11 & Part 12 & Part 13

Part 14 & Part 15 & Part 16

Part 17 & Part 18 & Part 19

Part 20 & Part 21 & Part 22

Part 23 & Part 24 & Part 25

Part 26 & Part 27 & Part 28

It was strange to be back. 

Most of Gwendolyn’s memories of the Allard estate were from a time when Aélgarda had been alive. During her exile at the hovel, she had come to miss so many things about it, and had reveled in the little luxuries she had once had. The fire was always roaring, the meat had always been cooked to perfection, and her feather bed had always afforded her a good night’s sleep when her mind was quiet. But now the house had a coldness about it that she hadn’t remembered from before. It was dark and damp and surprisingly dirty.

Gwendolyn wrinkled her nose at the smell of dog and garlic from last nights’ dinner that hung in the air in the Great Hall. There was something else there that she couldn’t account for....rotten vegetables perhaps? 

Yuck. 

They made their way to down the hall to the stairway and she could feel her palms getting sweaty. Frances met her eyes and offered her a reassuring glance, but she still felt a burning tightness in her chest as they treaded up the stairs.

Courage. You need courage.

“Oh brother! I am so glad you’re here!” Francine’s face was a mix of nervousness and fear as she hugged her brother tightly, and then hugged Gwendolyn. She had never seen her so frazzled before. Francine had always been the girlish one, full of giggles and frivolousness. But today, that was all gone, and she looked older than her eighteen years. “He is getting worse by the day, yet he still insists on coming down to sup and drink his mead. Then he is in his cups until he passes out. Frédérique says she will be here in the morning with her husband, but I am hoping they will arrive sooner. I cannot handle him anymore.”

“Mead? Is that wise?” The beautiful features on her husband’s face flashed with a look of concern.

“I cannot stop him. He won’t listen to anyone and keeps ranting about how he cannot trust women. I don’t know what to do!” The look of helplessness and hopelessness on her face disarmed Gwendolyn. She had seen that look before. It was the look her father had shortly before her mother died.   

“Take us to him.” Gwendolyn could see exactly what he was feeling without him having to say anything, just by the tone in his voice. He was nervous and slightly terrified. 

We all are. 

The room smelled of sweat, vomit and stale air. She had never been in the Master’s bedroom before, but it was a beautiful room, despite the smell. The bed was large with fine fabrics that seemed to shimmer in the light, and the furnishings were inlaid with beautiful carvings done by a highly skilled hand. The light streamed into the room through long windows, which, under different circumstances would have been pleasant, but just then it made her feel exposed. The floors were covered in a variety of fine furs, and the niches were filled with silver candlesticks and beautiful decorative wooden boxes. In the corner sat a bucket of unknown contents, and Gwendolyn tried not to think about what might be in it.

Marcelle had lost a considerable amount of weight since she had last seen him. He was frail and old looking, with dark circles under his eyes. But she noticed he was dressed in a long elaborate robe in the Norman fashion that set him apart from all the other men who wore the Saxon style. There was a finely carved silver medallion at his breast, which Gwendolyn found an odd thing to wear when one was sick. Had he dressed purposely for the occasion? 

He still wants to remind us of his status. Of course.

“What are you doing here, Shepard girl?” The raspy words slithered out of his mouth like a snake before she could even think. Upon his features was a look of disgust, reserved especially for her. She bristled under his gaze and felt her anger surface.  

“I am come to support my husband.” She looked away, intimidated by his hatred of her. She wanted to add that she had also come in the hopes that the breech between them could be healed, but after seeing his face she knew that it had been a foolish hope. Why was she here? The whole thing seemed like a stupid idea now, and she wished she had stayed away.

“Get her out of here, Frances.” He said his son’s name between clenched teeth, and her heart fell. What had she done for him to hate her so? Besides being born and falling in love with his son, she had never caused him harm or hurt him purposefully. If anything, it should be her that hated him.  

Perhaps it was better for her to go. If Frances wanted peace, then she was likely standing in the way of that just with her mere presence. But a small part of her hated being rejected by him, and it hurt her more than she expected it would. She got up and looked at what seemed like dead eyes and held his gaze to the point of making him uncomfortable. She wasn’t going to waste this chance to speak her bit, and he was going to hear it.

“I have come to inform you that I have forgiven you for all of the terrible things you have said and done. For exiling me, and for stealing my dowry, and for the hurt you have caused both of us. Although you really don’t deserve my forgiveness, nor my pity, I give it anyway.” His gaze was empty, as if he found her ridiculous. 

Then she moved closer to him and half whispered in his ear, ”Your time has come old man. You better get down on your knees and pray hard that your God will forgive you too for all of the rotten and disgusting things you have done.” She could feel her lip quiver in anger as she reflected back the look of disgust he had given her. His eyes grew wide with surprise, and it gave her a slight thrill. He hadn’t been expecting her to speak that way to him. In the past she would never have dared.

Before he could respond, she walked out of the room with more confidence than she felt. She noticed that her hands were shaking and her heart seemed to want to burst out of her chest. 

As soon as she walked into the long hall she felt a wave of relief wash over her. She had said what she come to say, and now it was over. She never had to think about that man again, and once he died, she would be free of him forever. But she couldn’t stop her tears from falling, yet she refused to give into the ache in her heart. 

Not here. 

She left word with a servant to tell Frances that she would be at the orphanage, and on shaky legs made the short walk down the lane to see her sisters. She wanted so much to collapse into Gwyn’s embrace, and after a few short moments, she did exactly that. 

She told her everything, in between sobs and sniffles. And when she had gained enough composure over herself, she asked her sister’s opinion. “Do you think I was too harsh on him? Do you think I should have said something kinder to a dying man?”

“Marcelle?! No. He is lucky indeed that more don’t make their opinions of him known. His wealth protects him. But most people have turned against him since what he did to you has come to light, they whisper about him. People are disgusted by his abuse of power against a helpless orphan girl. He’s no longer seen as a gentleman. If I were you, I would have said much more.”

Gwendolyn felt a small sense of relief that the village was on her side, but she was still worried about the rest of her new family. Where did they stand on the issue? Would they turn their backs on her once Marcelle was dead? 

During the ride back to the Inn, Marcelle explained everything that had happened and what his father had said. 

“Of course he chided me for leaving, and for marrying you and called me a simple fool. He called me simple!” Gwendolyn said nothing at this, as it was hardly a surprise. “Honestly, I thought he was going to be more angry and refuse to see me. But Gwendolyn, then he said the strangest thing- he called my mother a whore and said that myself and Francine are the only ones he can be sure are really his!”

Gwendolyn gasped in shock. “How could he say that of Aélgarda?! What an absurd thing to say! She dedicated her life to all of you, and the village.  And as for your parentage, one only has to look at your siblings to know they have the same parents as you do. They are all different arrangements of his own face!”

Frances nodded in agreement. Every one of his siblings had the same dark eyes as Marcelle, the straight sharp noses, and even the same shade of that beautiful sable colored hair. Gwendolyn thought that Frances was the best looking out of all of them, of course, but there was no denying that they were all related. It was as plain as day to anyone that cared to look. 

“I can only imagine that he is suffering from delusions. Perhaps a combination of poppy juice and mead?! He looks awful. I’ve never seen him so weak. It made me pity him.”

“Well, did you make your peace with him? How did you leave it?”

“In a way, I suppose. He said that I would inherit the estate since I am the only son he can be sure of...which shocks me to my core. I think the things you said to him had quite an affect on him, because he then told me to leave so that he could ‘make peace with his maker.’” He gave her a look just then, and she could see he was still recovering from shock. “What exactly did you whisper to him when you got close? I’ve never seen him pray in my life!”

She pinched her lips together and said quietly, “I told him what needed to be said. It was for his ears only.” 

His mouth curled into a little smile and he let out a chuckle. “Something about god? I’ll make a note never to cross you, as I have to say that I never want to see the look you gave him directed at me.” His eyes were teasing and he kissed her gently on the neck. “What a saucy Tigress you are.” She laughed and then he kissed her again. 

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

In just a week’s time with the arrival of autumn, another nasty illness had spread to Barton Upon Humber from the North, and then made it’s way to Grimsby. Most people remained indoors, fearful that another plague would wipe out as many as it had several years ago, or more. Their fears were not unfounded, as it had been reported that twelve people had already died in the nearby farms and villages.

First it hit the Merchant household of Handel, and killed not only Master Uddulf Handel, but his young son as well. Everyone was surprised it had brought down such a large, healthy man, but luckily his wife and daughter were spared. 

Next it hit the Merchants, and killed the Irishman, Fáelán. For a time people thought that it would take Aoifé and the children as well, but they narrowly escaped death after several weeks.

Soon after it traveled to the house of the late Olric, where it bedded his widow, Agatha. The three children had to be sent to the orphanage while their mother was too sick to care for them, and she died just days afterwards, alone. 

But finally it ended it’s travels at the Allard estate, where it made short work of Marcelle, who had been hanging on. It also banished Francois to his bed, where he clung to life. Yet just as quickly as it had spread, it was gone again, leaving the living to mourn the dead one more time. 

As soon as Marcelle died a messenger was dispatched to the Inn. Frances had been summoned to the estate where the reading of the will was to take place, and they hastily began to pack their trunks. As Gwendolyn began to carefully fold her clothing, she couldn’t help but wonder why she felt as if someone had punched her in the gut. It was true that she mostly hated Marcelle, but now that he was gone she remembered the days when he used to come visit their father and offered them fresh cherries from his orchard. He would sup with them sometimes, and her father had always been so proud when he did. She had considered him a father figure for so long. 

What had made him change so much?

She glanced over at Frances, as tears silently rolled down his cheeks, and she could feel his sorrow. She stopped folding and clasped her hands in his. He looked away at first, too ashamed to look her in the eye. Then the tears gushed out, and he quietly began to sob. He rested his head on her shoulder, and she could feel him shake with misery. She gently rubbed his back up and down, up and down, until he sobbed even harder and it all came sputtering out. 

“Now we’re both orphans,” he whispered. 

[ivyuns]

landing in my heart: closer

genre: angst, slight fluff

word count: 2.3k

warnings: location is in north korea, jealousy, guns, car crashes, kinda rushed lol

part three of landing in my heart

landing in my heart information

“what did you just say?”

“i would appreciate if you put the gun away from my fiancee”

“she belongs to division 11. and for those who doesnt know, shes unable to release her personal information. now if you mind, my fiancee is exhausted from her recent mission she came back from” jisung told everybody. on point, your body falls onto jisung’s shoulders, acting as if you were actually exhausted.

jisung takes you to his property till you two are out of sight until jisung clears his throat. “you can let go now” without hesitation, you let go and immediately asks whats division 11 is all about. telling you everything, you enter the house with jisung trailing behind you.

jisung takes you to his property till you two are out of sight until jisung clears his throat. “you can let go now” without hesitation, you let go and immediately asks whats division 11 is all about. telling you everything, you enter the house with jisung trailing behind you.

jisung offers you a cup of water and telling you to drink it to calm down. you gladly accept it as he takes a deep breath. “house inspections happens randomly, but i didnt expect it to happen today. im sorry”

“well, im sure you were equally surprised by it too, so no worries. and you showed up on perfect timing too” you smiled at him, drinking the water then looking around. “by the way, are you hurt? are you okay?” jisung asks while hes checking up on you for any hurt wounds. looking up and making eye contact, you see how his eyes were full of worry. shaking you head a no, you smile at him and was distrubed by knocks on jisungs gates.

“captain han! are you there?!”

jisung goes to open the door and sees the village women, who had heard about the news about you and offers him food. feeling like he couldnt hold any plates, they offer him to help him and take it into the house until you appear behind him.

“o-oh! nice to meet you, captain han’s fiancee” one of the women says. greeting them back, you grab one of the plate full of food from jisung. before you two could go, they ask you where your last mission was, what was it about and how was it. expecting to answer all their questions, you replied as “im sorry, i cant have my information out there”. the women gasp, shocked at they way you talked to them.

jisung tells them to go home and have a good night. doing what theyre told, they walked away and you close the gate. “is captain han really in love with her?” “is this a one-sided love?” “look at her hair, it looks so messy!” hearing all the comments they made about you made you stop your tracks, as long as jisung. gritting you teeth in annoyance, you two continued to go inside the house and ate the food they made for you two.

as you two got ready for bed, jisung made you sleep in the living room as he slept in his room. talking though the closed door, you asked him if he ever went to switzerland. “sorry if im being nosy. but i saw piano sheets and an application form from switzerland. did you have a girlfriend that you would play the piano to?” with no response from him, you drifted to sleep.

after the years go by, yiseo is back in pyongyang. passing the gates, yiseo bumps into minseok, who smiles at her and lets her go first. yiseo smiles back and proceeds until she sees her uncle, myeongseok. “ah, look at my yiseo. you lost a lot of weight during your studies in russia.”

“damn, its always the north korean women who have the best taste” minseok tells himself, but as his bodyguard hears him, he tells them to be careful of what he says. minseok then tells him he will pay him an extra 10,000 won if hed stop nagging him, but hell pay minseok 10,000 won if he nags to him again.

as yiseo and myeongseok stops at their car outside the airport, she realized what happened to the other car. “uncle, wheres the other car?” she asks. “oh, i had to lend it to jisung” “are you going to pick it up or is he bringing it back here” “im sure i can go there and pick it up after my recital tomorrow” “huh?! are you sure? i didnt even mention you were coming back to him because he never asks about you” “what kind of woman doesnt remember her fiance?”

the coal mine.

cheolgang enters the coal mine and enters the wire-trapper room after greeting his soldiers. the soldiers gets up from their seats and salutes cheolgang. “ive seen you all work hard, thank you”. manbok hears cheolgang and immediately salutes him. cheolgang tells manbok to follow him into the back exit.

“sir, what brings you all the way here?” manbok asks. “ri muyeok’s brother is now in the outpost. so i need you to wire his house. theres a women in there and im using it to ruin his family” as cheolgang finishes. manbok gets flashbacks about jisung’s brother.

7 years ago.

“you see, my little brother is studying in switzerland right now” muyeok says in the car with another soldier. “mmhm, hes a piano genius with a full scholarship. but everytime i call him, hes always sorry. maybe its because one of us had to follow our dads path” muyeok replies. “did you wanted to be on the piano path?” “nah, i wasnt into it as jisung was so i took this path” the soldier nods his head. “but he told me when he gets back, he’ll play a song for me, so im excited for that. i bet itll put me in a happy mood”

manbok, who listens to their conversation, helping cheolgang with his favor; killing muhyeok. telling where the driver to go, they collied with muyeoks vehicle. hearing the crashing noises made manbok go numb.

everyones outside the village, looking though jisung’s car, full of excitement. eavesdropping from the gate, jisung comes behind you and tells you hes leaving. “wait let me walk you out. so those women can see what i actually look like since it was dark outside” “no, theres no time for that. also, here. tie it up” jisung gives you a handkerchief. “tie what up?” jisung turns you around and ties your hair up, securing it with a double knot.

heading out of the gate together, you pretended to play the good wife and walked jisung out of the house. before he could leave your sight, you grabbed his wrist and told him to pat you hair, as if you two were being real about your engagement. he then pats your house as everyone is disgusted at your actions. you then tell him to wave at you in which he did. waving at him back, he turns around and heads to the base, bowing at people.

the village women from last night shows up to jisungs house after bad talking about you, inviting for a kimchi battle, you refuse.

back at the base, all soldiers are in an array. “hwang hyunjin, lee felix, kim seungmin, and yang jeongin. all of you but the four of you, head to the shooting range”

with everyone gone but the five of them, they meeting in jisung’s office. “so what did you tell them” hyunjin asks. “i told them shes my fiancee” everyone gasp loudly. “guys just be quiet right now. we just need a plan for her to get back on the boat”

as the four men walk to jisungs house as jisung himself goes to where the accident happened. as he talks to the soldier that was the guard for the place couldnt see what exactly happened since it was dark but he took note on how empty the cargo was and how the front the truck had armor. a very sharp armor.

in south korea, sehyeong calls the people who are helping him track down minseok, telling them to go to the places where he think hes hiding at. at the family meeting, both sehyeong and sejun continue to fight over who would be the next heir. sanga recommends the la vie en rose should be over if your disappearance is longer than expected.

in the village, you can see how hard life is as a north korean. telling the boys that youre off into the house to get potatoes, you noticed a little boy stealing one of the jackets. as the boys saw, they quickly ran towards the little boy and manages to stop him, as a bag of rice falls off of his pocket. “let me go! i need to feed my sister who hasnt eaten in 3 days and because of that, she cant open her eyes!”

making everyone come back to the house, you grabbed food from the cupboards as hyunjin is speaking nonsense. “you really act like this is your own house. youre giving away food thats not even yours to some boy whos lying” after putting the food into a tote bag, as well as a small blanket, youre stopped as you see jisung. “captain han! hes faking it!” hyunjin yells out. “no im not!”

“shut up hyunjin” you shut him up. jisung tells the little boy to wash his face and hands before eating so that he can prevent getting sick. after he washes he face and hands, he runs towards his little sister, who is sleeping alone under cardboard and a small sheet covering it. finally happy to feed his sister.

after that is finished, everyone gathers around and spends time with you before you leave tonight. “okay everyone! today i will give you awards to claim once we meet again” “awards!? are you a general or something?-” “and the first award goes to yang jeongin !” you say as you cut off hyunjin. “now you have two choices. you can use your prize as we see each other again or get it now. when we meet, youll get 100 million won, or get 8 corn now” “ill get the corn!”

“second prize goes to lee felix! your prize when we meet again is have lunch with jiwoo or get the tv right there” you pointed to jisungs tv. “look-” “dont worry, hell pick the first one” you whisper back to jisung. “ill pick the first one” felix gets up and claims his award.

“third one goes to the most handsome is ... kim seungmin!” jisung looks at you with disbelief. “you can have a blind date with miss korea or any award youd like” “ill choose none” nodding you head, you agreed seungmin is like the boys in south korea.

“okay thats all-” “wait what about me” hyunjin asks. “seriously? fine here, have this shampoo, conditioner, and bodywash” as you threw him the bag full of the products jisung got you earlier. “what the- captain han you really bought her this?!” “she said it was essentials”

after announcing the awards and coming to the end, jisung gets up as jealousy is on him, and goes out of the house. following him behind, you take him to your thank you gift for him; tomatoes after giving the seller half of jisungs potato sack since you didnt have any money. however, jisungs not impressed since he doesnt like tomatoes and doesnt properly treat it well. “whatever, just water it and say 10 nice things to it”

the night comes and everything leads to the end. the 4 men are back, eating corn on the mountain near the base with the moon shinning on them. “i feel sad now” jeongin speaks, stopping the silence. “after all the complications, its now the end”

you and jisung go inside the car jisung borrowed from myeonseok. heading to the dock where youre finally going home. taking off the handkerchief jisung gave you for you hair and folding it, you put it in the middle. “thank you for everything. i mean it” you told him. “we wont see each other again, right?” “probably” jisung answers. “its such a shame that you live here.” “its a shame that you live there” you chuckled at his joke, creating silence in the car once again.

parking the car near the deck, felix’s dad comes out of his boat as you two walk out. giving him the ticket, he asks if its just you. “no, the two of us. ill return after she is on the other boat” jisung says as you widen your eyes at him.

going onto the boat and sailing into the middle of the ocean. “since we probably wont see each other again, my name is yoon y/n” jisung looks at you with sincere eyes. “my name is han jisung” jisung smiles.

“ah, im a member of the haeju yoon clan. haeju is in north korea right?” “im a member of hanju han clan” “the irony!” both of you laugh, making jisung feeling happy after a while.

suddenly, a flash a light flashed the boat. “stop the boat!” yelled the other boat who was trailing behind felix’s dads boat. you and jisung hid under the boat as the boat was stopped. the police were investigating the boat. “were here to see your honesty and see if youre trading goods or smuggling humans to other countries” “why would i do that?” the police stomps on the blue hallow board, which was where you and jisung were hiding.

“open up!” was what you both heard underneath. “jisung! what do we do?! youre a soldier you should know what to do. geez” you silently yelled out. “in south korean dramas-” “what?! this is no time to talk about this” you freaked out. “im going to do something. now look at me and dont be startled. look at me and nothing else”

with that, jisung slams his lips into yours as the door opened.

additional ending:

after you leave jisung alone with the tomato plant, jisung bends down and tells 10 nice words.

“sunshine, happiness, rose, friends, breeze, cheekies, family, flowers, love, and piano”

[elliemarchetti]

Do you plan to update your red queen fanfics anytime soon?

I take the opportunity of this ask to publish the update of Pride and Prejudice AU but apart from this story, which I intend to finish as soon as possible, I am not sure that I will continue the others, as long as I no longer receive feedback and some requests on how to continue. I hope you enjoy this chapter and quench your thirst for new Red Queen fanfiction! @lilyharvord I must also apologize to you for the very long wait, but life has definitely come between me and my interests

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Words: 2450

After breakfast, the girls took a walk in the village to find out if Mr. Maven was back, and to complain about his absence at the ball. He joined them as soon as they entered the city and he and Mr. Thomas took them home, a double advantage, as Mare could spend time with him undisturbed and the opportunity was propitious to present him to her father and mother. Immediately upon returning home, Miss Skonos was delivered a letter which was immediately opened: the envelope contained an elegant sheet of satin filled paper with beautiful, flowing feminine handwriting, which however changed her expression as she read it. It was from Evangeline Samos, and what it contained surprised her greatly, as the whole party had left the Stilts, with no intention of returning. When, later, Mare too was able to read it, she looked at the high-sounding expressions used with all the indifference of suspicion and, although surprised by the rapidity of that departure, she saw nothing really worrying: there was nothing to suggest that their absence would also prevent Mr. Samos from returning, and about the loss of their company, she was convinced that Wren would’ve certainly stopped worrying about it, being able to enjoy his. Sure it was unfortunate that she hadn't been able to see her friends again before they left the countryside, and that none of them were willing to return that winter, but wasn't that the reason why those who could afford it owned two houses?

"But you don't know everything. I'll read you the passage that particularly hurt me, since I don't want to hide anything from you," added her friend, and finally Mare noticed the second sheet she was holding in her hands.

"I am truly convinced that my dear friend, Lady Elane Haven, has no equal in terms of beauty, elegance and quality, and I don't think I'm at fault if I take it for granted that you agree with me. The affection she has inspired me for years is intensified by something even more significant, namely the hope of soon being able to call her my sister-in-law. I don't know if I have ever told you my feelings about it, but I won’t leave without trusting you, and I believe you won’t find them unreasonable. My brother already admires her very much, all her relatives desire this union for her as much as we do, and I don't think I am deceived by the partiality of a sister if I say that Ptolemus is certainly capable of winning the heart of any woman. With all these circumstances in favour of a bond and none that can prevent it, I am perhaps wrong to indulge in the hope of an event that will ensure the happiness of this many people?"

Mare was stunned. So this was the plan, it wasn't a marriage already orchestrated between Miss Samos and the General, but between her friend and her brother! Wren, however, didn’t want to believe her, and her words about the undeniable affection he felt for her seemed to do nothing but further hurt her broken heart as upstream they didn’t think the same about the letter's emissary, for not to mention that she was convinced that she wouldn’t be able to derive any joy from a marriage to a man whose friends and relatives hoped he would marry another woman.

"You must be the one to decide," said Mare, "and if after mature reflection you discover that the pain of doing a rudeness to his sister is greater than the happiness of being his wife, I certainly recommend you to refuse.”

These words brought Wren a smile, as they both knew perfectly well that she wouldn’t hesitate to accept his proposal, but the shadow of the possibility that he wouldn’t return in six months continued to cast a dark shadow on the general mood, to the point that only Diana’s invitation, addressed to both of them, managed to dispel that constant thought a little, replacing it with genuine curiosity, since she and Wren were by no means intimate enough for such a proposal. The answer to all their questions, however, came the next day when the Colonel's daughter told them that she needed female help, and that Mare was too involved to be the only opinion she would hear. From anyone else, this would’ve been an intolerable rudeness, but Mare knew her friend well, and if it was about romance, an assumption that soon turned out to be correct, she didn't want to be wrong and analyzed every single detail to the point of making the least gesture the most rational. The summary of the matter, however, was that Mr. Jesper had woken up early the previous morning, and unannounced, had gone under her window to ask her for a clandestine meeting. Diana accepted, and he, very awkwardly, revealed his interest in her, as well as his intention to marry her, if she accepted. The entire Farley family would’ve been thrilled with the event, but she had asked him for time to think about it, although she was already certain that she wouldn’t come to any conclusion alone, so she had bestowed that invitation. Wren, who was good-natured, greatly appreciated the gesture, and considered it an unspoken compliment to her sensibility and handling of the matter with Mr. Samos, so she quickly got busy, and all the years they had spent politely ignoring each other were recovered within an afternoon. Mare, however, wasn’t so well disposed towards the idea: she appreciated that Diana had asked for more help to reach the most favourable of conclusions, but she would’ve preferred that she had talked about it with her brother, as Shade had been silently courting her for years, and watched her from afar become the only woman he certainly wanted to marry; the prospect that she might want another man had bothered him and not a little, Mare had noticed, although she hadn't said anything, too absorbed in her own problems, but the real possibility that she might decide to marry another man would certainly have prompted him to declare himself, and everyone knew that those two were meant for each other, something that she wanted to remind to her friend.

"Mr. Jesper is smart and pleasant, and it’s certainly inviting for a woman to be the only one who can put a man at ease, not to say reassuring, even if he doesn’t seem like that kind of person. On the other hand, I can already see the blame on your face, Mare, and I want you to remember that your friendship is the thing I care about most in the world and even if I know how you feel, remember I too would behave differently if my perspectives were different, but they’re not, so I’m just asking you to be happy for me if I accept.”

"I will be," Mare assured her, though she wasn't sure she would ever be able to rejoice in her brother's unhappiness, "I just ask you to tell Shade before making any decisions. Do you think you can?"

To the affirmative answer of the other, Mare waited a time that she considered reasonable and took leave, followed by Wren, who asked her if she wanted to be accompanied home, which Mare refused, determined to be left alone with her considerations. It took her time before she could reconcile herself with the idea of ​​such an inappropriate union as she never imagined that, once called to decide, her friend would sacrifice all her best feelings. The next day, Mare was sitting with her mother and sister when Colonel Farley appeared and requested an audience with Mr. Barrow. Terrified of what might have happened, Mare remained tense the entire time they spent in the library, but the tones never rose, and when he left, the Colonel looked as calm as when he arrived. Mare waited a while before reaching her father and asking him what had happened, fearing a reproach for her advice to her friend, which could’ve broken the relationship between the two families, if the situation between Diana and Shade had been from her misunderstood, but he replied very calmly, saying he was happy and satisfied that Miss Farley, whom he had always thought fairly intelligent, wasn’t as foolish as his wife or daughter Gisa. Although this didn’t gave an explicit answer to her question, it reassured Mare, who was convinced that she could get more direct answers once her brother, who had gone out with Bree and Tramy, returned, as she didn’t want to be pressing with Diana, who could also have took offense at how things went the last time they met. At first, Shade seemed a little surprised by all that attention, but when he realized that Mare’s wasn’t just a fervent desire to know some new gossip but real concern, he told her not to worry, and that everything would turn out right in due time, a time that however established a reserve between the two friend that became a silence so heavy that convinced Mare their confidence was stained forever. Furthermore, these gloomy feelings certainly didn’t help Wren's mood, who hadn’t heard from Mr. Samos for a week and hadn’t even received an answer to her letter for his sister. Even Mare was beginning to have fears, not so much that Mr. Samos was indifferent, but that his sister could keep him far. Reluctant as she was to admit such a devastating idea to the happiness of the only friend she had left, and so dishonourable about the constancy of her love, she couldn't help but think about it often. The united efforts of two insensitive women and a friend so influential, favoured by the charm and amusement of Archeon, might’ve proved to be too much, so she feared, for strength of his affection. As for Wren, her anxiety about that uncertainty was, of course, more painful than Mare's, but whatever she felt she just wanted to hide it, and therefore between her and her friend there were never any allusions to that subject. The mother, on the other hand, wasn’t held back by such delicacy and hardly an hour passed without speaking of Mr. Samos, expressing the impatience for his return, or even asking her daughter to admit that if he didn't come back she would feel treated very bad. It took all of Wren's mild steadfastness to endure those attacks with acceptable tranquillity, which diminished, however, upon the arrival of Miss Samos' letter of reply, which removed any doubt about their winter accommodation, they would have settled in the General's residence, and, according to Wren, also regarding the feelings of Mr. Samos towards Lady Haven. Mare paid no attention to those speculations, she hadn’t seen, in fact, any warmth between the two in the time they had spent at the Hall of the Sun, but the fact that Evangeline was so evil she could take pleasure in the idea of undermine her own brother’s happiness, and in such a mean way, filled her with indignation and resentment, equal only to the concern she felt for her friend, who had fallen in love with a man of such lightness of character, a slave to intriguing friend, willing to sacrifice his own happiness at the whim of their desires. If, however, it was only his happiness

that was sacrificed, he could play with it as he wanted, but it was also Wren's that was involved and she believed he should be aware of it. In short, it was a topic that could’ve been thought about for a long time, even if, perhaps, to no avail, but she could do nothing else, and whether Mr. Samos's affection had really died down or had been suffocated by the interference of his friends, whether he had been aware of Wren's feelings or they had escaped his observation, in any case, even if the judgment would’ve been concretely influenced in the different hypotheses, the situation remained the same, and the peace of the girl equally wounded. It was a couple of days after, that Wren found the courage to talk about her feelings with Mare, but in the end, left alone by Mrs. Skonos, after a longer than usual rant on the Hall of the Sun and his owner, she said: "Oh! If my dear mother controlled herself more, she has no idea how much pain her constant considerations about him give me. But I don't want to complain, since it won't last long. He will be forgotten, and we will all be as before."

Mare looked at her friend with affectionate disbelief, but said nothing, although the doubt about those words could be read on her face like lines from an open book. Wren blushed: she knew that this man, who had been so lovable to her, would live forever in her memory, but that was all. If she had something to hope, fear, or even blame him for, the situation would’ve been different, and time would’ve done nothing but make the pain greater, but in that case she had the immediate comfort that it was nothing more than an error of her imagination, which had hurt no one but herself. If she had said those words aloud, Mare would’ve told her she was too good, and she would’ve attributed ethereal adjectives to her sweetness and impartiality, but it wasn't praise for her character that she needed to hear at the moment, only how much she was loved, words that not even her mother seemed willing to give. Even her father considered it only a mere disappointment, and indeed, he seemed inclined to joke about it when the Barrows went to visit them, inciting Mare to have her own heartbreak with Mr. Maven, who seemed a very nice and stylish man. Regarding him, it can be said that his company helped to dispel the melancholy into which the last, unfortunate events had thrown the two friends, who saw him often and had been able to add to the long list of his qualities the total absence of reserve, as the whole story already exposed to Mare soon became public, and everyone was satisfied thinking about how much they had always thought the General unpleasant before coming to knowledge of the whole matter. The only one who could imagine that there could be some extenuating circumstance in the matter was Miss Skonos, whose mild and firm candour always put forward justifications, and insisted on the possibility that there were misunderstandings, but by all the others the General had been labelled like the worst of men.

[yukimoji]

My World: Part 3 ( Tanjiro Kamado x Reader )

( a/n: hello! welcome to part 3 and the final part of the “my world” series! this became longer than i had initially expected, i apologize deeply for that. also, i'm sorry if it seemed like i shitted on kanao too much, im so sorry bby i still love u. take note there will be grammar errors and typos, bec im blind and i always seem to miss those errors rip. thank you all for following “my world”, and i hope you all enjoy! )

(also, how do u even write angst?? i tried my best and i hope ya’ll dont get too disappointed with my poor excuse of angst lololol)

Part 1 I 2 I 3

Total words: 6600+ words

Genre: Angst and Fluff

!!MAJOR, MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

Warnings: Mentions of blood

--

With each passing day, it felt like you were getting closer towards the edge of the line.

In a dark tunnel, you stood there, wandering aimlessly towards the light that could not be even seen for miles and miles. An endless loop of nothingness, as the feeling of dread, terror, and fear consumes you from the hidden depths of your mind.

You hoped and wished that one day you could see even a tiny glimpse of what lies ahead of you. Wondering if there's more to it than the endless bloodshed and horrors you've seen hundreds of times now.

But then, suddenly, a warm entity started to walk alongside you. A feeling as warm as the bright rays of the morning sun, and an inexplicable feeling of something accompanying you on your endless journey.

Even when immersed in darkness, the underlying warmth seemed to radiate from that figure. There was a tinge of happiness in your harsh world that made the road to the unseen light seem less lonely than before.

However, with every step, the distant light gets dimmer and darker.

And the warm feeling beside you blazes into a raging, roaring, sea of fire.

The morning after you received the heartfelt letter from Tanjiro, word broke out that Tanjiro, Inosuke, and Zenitsu had defeated Lower Moon One.

You were rejoiced to hear that your comrades had defeated another member of the Twelve Demon Moons. When you heard the news for the first time, you promptly darted to find the nearest pen and paper to congratulate the trio. However, you stopped dead in your tracks when your Kasugai Crow screeched out the status of the Hashira that the trio had accompanied.

Rengoku Kyojuro, the Flame Hashira, has died after an encounter with Upper Moon Three.

Your eyes were as big as saucers, as you stood there in shock. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Upper Moon 3? Hashira? Dead?

You've never really had a proper conversation with the Flame Hashira, but you've had high respects for him. The way he would hold his sword with pride and his never-ending sense of justice would always bring hope to you and your fellow slayers. You could still remember the words of encouragement he would say every time he would have encountered the lower ranks like you.

"Always set your heart ablaze!"

Hearing about the death of such an important figure in the Demon Slayer Corps made you tighten your jaw. Your hand clenches at the thought of someone so kind and strong had died of such a painful death. You inhaled tiny and long breaths as you try to calm yourself down from the frustration rising in your veins.

He would've wanted his death to inspire the Demon Slayers to fight harder, and you will. His fate will not be in vain as long as the Demon Slayer Corps will continue fighting on.

If you feel angry, you could only imagine as to how Tanjiro felt. Knowing the boy, he would've befriended and had grown attached to the fallen Hashira. Your face contorted into one of sadness. He would be distraught, seeing the Flame Hashira die in front of his very eyes.

You glanced at the paper and the pen at the corner of your vision, and decided to write to the Hanafuda-clad slayer. You went to grab the items and sat down to start writing your letter.

You couldn't be there to physically comfort him, you were too far away. You prayed that this letter would suffice, as you could not do anything more to console the Burgundy-haired boy.

--

Tanjiro made his way back towards the Butterfly Estate, after visiting the Rengoku Estate to deliver Kyojuro-san's final wishes. He gazed at the katana guard that was given to him by Senjoru, Kyojuro-san's little brother. He sighs sadly at the thought of the Flame Hashira, his words echoing in his mind.

"Live on and set your heart ablaze!"

Breathing out softly, his Crimson-hues looks upwards to the sky, staring at the moving clouds high above.

"CAW! A MESSAGE! A MESSAGE FOR KAMADO TANJIRO!"

"Yaah!" Tanjiro yells out in surprise at his crow's loud screeching, but his expression brightened at the sight of a letter attached to it's legs. He then puts his arm out to let the crow land on it.

"Thank you!" He affectionately pats the head of the crow, and proceeds to take the letter placed delicately on it's legs. The crow screeches once more, and takes off.

Tanjiro looks at the crow flying away, and returns his gaze towards the letter in his hands. He reads the message written in it, and can't help a smile forming from his lips.

"What can be done, is for us to not let it define our days to come. We can choose to heal, whilst bearing the scars, whether alone or with someone precious.

For as long as you want me to, I will be here for you."

I read that somewhere, but I couldn't remember where, hehe.

I'm sorry for what happened. I can't imagine what you're feeling, but I will always be here for you. Rengoku-san will not be forgotten, and he will always live in our hearts and memories.

Be kind to yourself, Tanjiro. You mean the whole world to me.

- [ L / N ] [ Y / N ]

Tanjiro chuckles softly at the letter, and holds it close to his chest. He sniffles as he flutters his eyes close, the corners of his mouth turning up into a thankful grin.

"Thank you, [ Y / N.]"

--

Months pass, another mission comes by after the completion of another mission. As the weeks gone by, you could find yourself growing stronger each passing day.

During your time apart, you and Tanjiro would often exchange letters. Usually, it was him describing his missions in full detail and how Zenitsu and Inosuke were doing as they worked alongside with each other. Every now and then, little scratches and odd pen marks will decorate the surface of the paper, which you could only assume is Nezuko's doing.

You, on the other hand, would also write about your missions. Occasionally, you would tell him about random stuff, little things on your mind as you go about your day.

One thing remains constant, though. The two of you would always end a letter with a heartfelt sentence that became your little way of saying "I love you" for each other.  

"You mean the whole world to me."

Today, me, Inosuke, and Zenitsu went to Yoshiwara with Uzui-san. He basically forced us to come with him, because he wouldn't stop harassing the poor girls back at the Butterfly Estate if we didn't go. He said he was looking for his three wives, as they stopped contacting him after going undercover to find a demon in the district. Can you believe it? Three wives?!

When we arrived, Uzui-san immediately dressed us up as girls and we were sent off to brothels where we could hopefully find the demon causing havoc in the area. Honestly, I'm kind of glad that you weren't here to see me. Not because I don't want you to be with me, no no no! I actually miss you so much and I just want see you again and I just-

It's because I looked absolutely ridiculous! Seriously, it was a miracle that I was able to pass up as a girl!

Anyway, it's my first night here, and so far, there's no sign of a demon. There's been rumors going around about young women suddenly committing suicide without explanation. There's something fishy going on around here, that's for sure.

I'm going to end my letter here. Tomorrow's another day, and we will do our best to make this mission a success.

Stay safe, [ Y / N ].

You mean the whole world to me.

- Kamado Tanjiro

Of course, there were moments where you were worried sick for the boy. When news broke out that the Sound Pillar and the trio defeated Upper Moon 6 in the Red Light District, you were absolutely ecstatic. Another Upper Moon had been slain, and you couldn't be more proud  for the trio.

That is, until Tanjiro abruptly stopped sending letters.

During those moments, you could only send letters to the Butterfly Estate, asking about Tanjiro's health and condition. You tried not to get your emotions get the best you, but you couldn't help it. Not when Tanjiro was laying in a bed, unconscious, and out of your reach.

You found comfort of the letters that replied to you. Kanao, the Butterfly Pillar's Tsuguko, started writing back to you, and kept you up-to-date of Tanjiro's well-being that would soothe your anxious nerves. You were thankful for her, as she would always write back to you every night without fail.  

Gradually, you began to get to know her, and eventually thought of her as a friend. Since she was a little shy, you gladly told her about your days and endless missions, and maybe a little bit of jokes and puns to lighten up her day.

It wasn't long too until she started talking about the things she liked, like how she enjoys blowing soap bubbles and considers it a hobby. She would also talk about how she likes sweets and accessories, squishing cat paws and helping with the cooking at the Butterfly Estate.

Who knew, that the girl who wrecked you mercilessly during your Rehabilitation training was actually such a lovely and adorable girl who enjoyed the little things in life?

When Tanjiro finally recovered, you never stopped sending letters to Kanao. She was a fun pen pal and a friend to have, because she would listen to each time you would either rant about your day or just say some dumb puns when you're too bored to function.

One day, Tanjiro told you that he was going to the Swordsmith Village to ask for a replacement for his sword. That night, he spoke of how the Love Pillar and the Mist Pillar were present in the village, and how he had the chance of speaking to Genya Shinazugawa, the Wind Pillar's younger brother.

For days on end, the Crimson-eyed slayer would tell you about a training doll that mimicked the strongest Demon Slayer who ever lived. He would rant endlessly, telling you about a swordsmith who trained him to the bone without food and water. He told you, one day, he accidentally smashed the doll into pieces, revealing a worn and old sword hidden inside of it.

You snickered, and you could already hear Tanjiro's voice, which was loaded with panic and anxiety, just by reading the contents of his letters.

You were pleasantly shocked the next day, when your Crow announced the news of the deaths of Upper Moon Five and Upper Moon Four.

Tanjiro was like a magnet for the Upper Moons, and you can't help but feel a heavy sensation in the depths of your stomach.

It felt like the calm before the storm, as after Tanjiro's experience in the Swordsmith Village, there was a rapid decline in Demon activity all across the country.

--

However, it seemed like the crow didn't exactly tell you everything regarding the Village's aftermath.

After what seemed like forever, you made your way back to the Butterfly Estate. Since demons have not been running all over the place, there weren't as much many missions as there was before. Your crow yelled at you to go back to the estate, but hey, you weren't complaining about that.

You couldn't contain the excitement, a giddy expression ever present on your face. Each step brought you closer to your destination, and as the Estate finally presented itself to your vision, you practically skipped your way in order to reach the area faster.

You heard shouting in the distance. There were cries of panic, seemingly asking someone to come back. You didn't stop your hurried pace, but your eyes widened in both joy and shock when you saw the familiar raven locks of your demon friend, who was now running towards you at full speed.

In broad daylight.

"[ Y/N ]! [ Y/N ]! [ Y/N ]!" Nezuko cries out in joy, jumping at you with all of her strength. You couldn't react on time as she lands on you, and the both of you tumbled to the ground. She was hugging you, a hand affixed on top of your head, patting it relentlessly.

"Oof! Hi, Nezuko!" You laughed at her antics, and hugged her back without hesitation.

You were confused, that's for sure. Even though you were absolutely overjoyed to see your friend, your mind was screaming confused thoughts on how on earth she was able to hug you underneath the blazing sun. Not only that, she was not wearing her usual bamboo muzzle and she spoke your name! She actually spoke! Her voice was absolutely adorable!

"Welcome back!" She cheered happily, and you already feel yourself melt into a puddle at how cute she was acting. She continued to nuzzle onto you, and you felt a sense of pride knowing that an incredibly cute and sweet girl was aggressively showering you with love and affection.

"EH?! [ Y / N ]'S BACK! SHE'S BACK!" You snapped your head to the source, and beamed at the sight of Zenitsu calling out to the residents of the estate, signalling your arrival.

"It's nice to see you again, Zenitsu!" You called out and waved at him, a bright smile present on your face. You couldn't really move, not when Nezuko wasn't done hugging you and spoiling you rotten with her affection.

Zenitsu's eyes widened for a second, until he began jumping around and screaming out a series of chants like the madman he is.

"REALLY? IT'S REALLY NICE TO SEE ME AGAIN?! AW! DON'T FLATTER ME, [ Y / N ]! YOU SHOULD'VE TOLD ME BEFORE THAT YOU HELD ME IN SUCH A HIGH REGARD! YOU KNOW, IT'S NOT TOO LATE TO ASK FOR MY HAND IN MARRIAGE!"

Your smile began to fade, and you could look at him with utter dismay as he proceeded to yell out nonsense.

But then, a familiar voice calls out. The voice that you've yearned to hear for months, as it makes your heart skip a beat as it gets louder and closer.

Tanjiro comes out from the estate, looking around frantically, a desperate expression evident in his gentle features. He looks at your direction and he goes stiff as a statue the moment he locks eyes with you. His eyes began to water, his lower lip quivering from the sight of you.

He races up to you, rivaling with the pace Nezuko had when she assaulted you. Instantaneously, he engulfs you in his loving embrace, and you couldn't hold back your giggles and laughter as he proceeded to wreak havoc on your face with little kisses.

Nezuko lets out a sound of pleasure and releases her hold on you. She watched her brother as he coddled you with so much attention, and she clapped happily at the sight.

After what seemed like ages, Tanjiro stopped attacking your face with kisses and raised a hand to softly caress your cheek. His crimson-hues looked at you with so much passion and adoration, and you gazed at him lovingly in reciprocation.

Slowly he leans in to you, his forehead brushing yours. The corners of his mouth are pulled up, a ridiculously goofy expression adoring his features. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks because of the close proximity to his face, but still, you gave him the biggest grin you could muster up.

He chuckles and closes his eyes, nuzzling on you as he holds you in his arms protectively.

"I missed you. So, so much." He breathes out, and you giggle as his warm breath fans your flushed face.

"I missed you too, you big baby." You fluttered your [ E / C ] close, holding him tight and not wanting to let go.

After months of hardship, stress, and pain, you find yourself once again welcomed by your home and your world.

You spent the next few days roaming around the estate, with Tanjiro beside you, holding your hand at every moment. Not just that, you've got to spend time in the garden with Nezuko again! Only this time, you were accompanied by the presence of Zenitsu, Inosuke, and even Kanao!

Each day was filled with laughter and joy. Even when the Hashiras decided to train every slayer in harsh training routines, your happiness never faded. Given the sweat and soreness of your muscles as you shift from one Hashira to another, you would always be rewarded with the sight of the bright stars shining brightly over all of you.

But one day, that happiness seemed to fade away. The devastation and cruelty that you had faced before came back from the ashes of the past, as each second escalated into the catastrophic hell that you were now forced to face.

One night, every Hashira unexpectedly went on a high alert. You couldn't understand what was going on, and you were even more perplexed when Tanjiro suddenly asked you to stay alert and left in a haste. You stood beside the campfire, confused, and you couldn't control the familiar feeling of dread swallowing you up again.

Your instinct was telling you that something terrible and unprecedented was about to happen. Your heart was thumping uncontrollably on your chest, as you started to sweat and tremble from the overwhelming feeling of uncertainty that made shivers run up to your spine.

Unfortunately, your fears were confirmed when a loud explosion was heard in the distance.

You gasped, as you felt the ground suddenly disappear. You couldn't respond quickly, your mind spinning out of control as you fell down to a fortress filled with demons that seemed to stretch out forever.

You breath hitched as you came back to your senses. You looked around, trying to find something or somewhere that could end your endless free fall. You felt a sense of hope as an area where you could land safely came into view. Your eyebrows were knit together, mouth clenching as you performed a breathing technique and landed swiftly at the edge of the structure.

The moment you landed, demons started to flock towards you. Your blood began to boil, rage rapidly overcoming you. You unsheathed out your sword, tightened your grip on the handle, and immediately slashed your way through the hordes of demons. It was then you realized, that it was the beginning of the end, and that it was going to be a long night.

In a blink of an eye, smiles turned into anger, laughter turned into screams, as what was once happiness was now destroyed and replaced by rage and anguish.

And whenever happiness is destroyed,

There's always the smell of blood.

--

Hours of endless bloodshed. Thousands upon thousands of casualties had rained upon the ranks of the Demon Slayer Corps. You had seen the brutal fighting with your very own eyes, and the rage only intensified with each life taken by the hands of those ruthless demons.

The Twelve Demon Moons had perished. But at the cost of their heads, were the lives of your mentors, comrades, and friends.

However, it finally seemed like their sacrifices were not in vain.

The sun had risen, and Muzan Kibutsuji howled out in pain as the sun's fiery rays started to burn him. He had taken the form of a large, hideous baby, as he desperately tries to hide away from the sun's burning gaze.

Almost everybody was severely injured; there were severed limbs, large gashes, and heavily bleeding wounds.  

Despite the overwhelming pain, the remaining slayers continued to fight on, too high on adrenaline and determination in order to bring Muzan to his demise. Everybody held on, performing everything they could do to make the Demon King roast under the sunlight and suffer for his crimes.

Right now, you were driving a bus, speeding towards the crawling abomination. You slammed on the pedals, accelerating at full speed as you rammed into the enormous, yet horrific excuse of a baby.

"Stay down, you bastard!" You yelled out, a dangerous glint twinkling in your eyes as you couldn't help the sides lips tugging up into smug smirk.

You jumped out of the vehicle right before a big hand smashed the front portion, as a voice commands you and nearby Kakushi to push the back portion to block Muzan from moving further. You all gathered together and pushed with all your remaining strength, yells of determination echoing out to stop Muzan from going further.

Your eyes widen as a large hand rises, but before he could smash you all into pieces, the Wind Pillar successfully cut off it's hand on time. You all continued to push, but Muzan was starting to overpower you all and was slowly going over the vehicle.

Then, you heard the loud clank of chains, and saw the monster stumble back as a large chain had wrapped itself on the demon's neck, forcing him to stay in place. You all moved out, and went to the Stone Pillar, aiding him by holding him in place as he uses all his power to grip unto the chains in order to pin the beast down. Muzan hollered out, as he continued to burn under the sun.

Determined to find shade and escape death, the huge monstrosity resorted to dig himself into the earth. The Hashiras then took turns attacking the abomination, attempting to wear off its stamina. All hope seemed lost, as the chains, and all of your energy rapidly depleted as Muzan continued his struggle.

Then, against all odds, the demon throws his head back in a final, ear piercing scream. Gigantic tears fell down from it's hideous face, and after what seemed like eternity, it's body finally crumbled into nothingness.

There was a pause. You all held your breath, the heavy tension in the air suffocating you all. Disbelief was evident on your faces, as you could not properly process what had just gone down.

Then, you all erupted into loud yells of victory.

Muzan is dead. The Demon Slayers had won.

You all cried out in happiness. Centuries of battle, bloodshed, and death finally bearing its fruit. Everyone embraced each other, beaming smiles present in every slayer's face as the shouts of triumph echoed across the battlefield.

"It's not over yet!" A Kakushi yells out, "Stand up! Treat the wounded! Don't cry, you fools, stay focused! We can save them!" You all looked around, and saw the bodies of several Hashira and Demon Slayers slumped up all around. The celebration ceased as everybody started to scatter; newly found strength flooding them as they sought out to save the heavily injured.

In your peripheral vision, you saw Kanao hunched up and unconscious, and she was being tended by several Kakushi. You ran up to her, and your jaw clenched as you observed the injuries and blows she had taken. You kneeled down, and asked for one of them for bandages so you could help patch up your friend.

As you started to wrap up some of Kanao's injuries, lilac hues started to flutter open. She takes a moment to look at her surroundings, and when she sees you and a few Kakushi patching her up, her lips formed a small yet grateful smile.

"...Thank you."

Your eyes darted to look up to the voice, you gasped in relief and your expression brightened as Kanao weakly gives you a wry smile.  

You stared at her, the corners of your mouth tugging up and your eyes flickering with gratitude. After wrapping her wounds, you gently took her hand and encased it with your own.

"We won, Kanao." You whispered. Shutting your eyes close, you recalled the memories of how hard she fought against Muzan, along with Zenitsu, Inosuke, and the Hashiras. The ravenette just paused, and her mouth falling open as she was reflecting on what you had just told to her. Then, she breathes out in delight, and slowly raised her other hand to caress your own. Kanao's whole face lit up, and she beams at you, nodding her head in appreciation.

But then, suddenly, in the corner of her vision, something captures Kanao's attention. She stiffened, and her hand started to tremble under your gentle hold. Her forehead furrowed and she struggled to find her voice.

" [ Y - Y / N ]-chan..!"

You opened your [ E / C ] eyes, and glanced at your friend's facial features. You grew concerned, trying to make sense as to why she was shaking and sweating so much. Then, loud shouts began to echo and you felt a heavy sensation start to enclose your chest. You started to tremble, the loud yells becoming more frantic by each second. The feeling of dread returned, seemingly to taunt you as goosebumps rapidly washed over you. The girl returned her attention to your bewildered expression, her lilac orbs filled with worry and regret.

You hesitantly turned around and looked to where Kanao had her gaze on to figure out the source of her behavior. Instantaneously, your eyebrows elevated, a hand immediately clasping your mouth. Your eyes welled up in tears and the cries of distress escaped away as you stomached in the scene before you.

You stared ahead to meet the figure of your beloved Tanjiro.

But he didn't look like your Tanjiro.

A beast roared out, screaming and assaulting any being that was attempting to get close to him. You saw a glimpse of Zenitsu and Inosuke trying to hold back your transformed lover, the Water Pillar frantically yelling orders not get close to the boy, but to no avail.

It felt like the whole world had shattered right before your very eyes. You struggled to swallow back the bile rising to your throat, your breathes becoming more erratic as the hot tears endlessly fall from your eyes. You become absolutely racked with sobs, the heavy feeling on your chest intensifying to the point of suffocating you.

"Stop crying!"  You mentally scold yourself. "Now is not the time to cry! You have to help! You have to save him!"

But you couldn't move. You couldn't speak. You couldn't do anything but wail out in absolute heartbreak as Tanjiro further succumbed into hysteria.

No matter how hard you tried, your feet were glued to the ground. Your mind hurled insults, screaming at you to step forward, to run, and try to save your beloved. You could only look up to the heavens, reciting a silent prayer pleading to every Deity who was listening to stop this madness.

In the midst of your emotional turmoil, you have flashes of what once was. You recall how Tanjiro would hold you in moments of peace, how his eyes would fill up with tenderness and love whenever you locked eyes with him, and how his beaming smile seemed to brighten up even your darkest days.

Your heart continues to pound painfully in your chest as you gasp out endless incoherent breathes. You could hear his loving voice resonate in your head, your cries becoming more erratic at the thought that you could never hear his warmth-filled sound again.

"You mean the whole world to me, [ Y / N ]."

You could only look helplessly as the now human Nezuko began to cry out to her corrupted brother, holding him in place so that he could no longer hurt more people. Tanjiro continued to screech and thrash in the sister's grasp, his screams releasing powerful waves of energy that would blowed away anyone who had even dared to come near him.

Zenitsu and Inosuke were swept away by the strong shockwaves, but Nezuko never weakened her grasp, as she continues to hold on to her brother desperately. Tanjiro dropped down, the sound of the tearing cloth ringing around as massive and sharp tentacles exploded out of his back. Zenitsu cries out, terror overtaking his face as he desperately reaches out to save Nezuko.

But something still puzzles you. Your stomach still twisted at the sight of Nezuko bleeding, but what was perplexing was that Tanjiro declined to bite his sister. Even though he had a taste of his sister's blood, he resisted and refused to attack her.

Maybe, just maybe, your Tanjiro was still there, fighting to break free from his eternal prison.

"[ Y / N ]-chan." Kanao calls out. You snap out of you emotional daze and faced the girl. She looked at you with a hopeful expression, and she takes out a small box from her belt.

"We can still save him..." She starts, opening the box to reveal an injection. "My master gave this to me, and she said that this is medicine made out of Wisteria flowers that could turn demons back into humans."

Kanao coughs up blood, her face scrunching up as she groans out in discomfort. She stumbles forward because of the pain, and you instantly hold her to prevent her from falling to the ground. She looks up to you, and gives you a sad smile.

"Tanjiro turned into a demon just now. Even if I could evade his attacks with one eye, my injuries could get the best of me." She coughs again, placing a hand to her re-opened wound on her waist. She takes your hand and places the injection on it.

"There's still time, [ Y / N ]. Tanjiro loves you too much to even raise a hand at you."  

You looked down at the injection, your eyes filled with renewed determination. You nodded in agreement, then took long breaths to calm yourself down. You knew what you needed to do, and now, you could save him.

You wiped the trails of dried tears on your face, eyebrows drewn together as your expression hardened. Tightening your grip on the object, you stood up and turned around to confront Tanjiro.

"Thank you." You breathed out, forever grateful to Kanao for giving you this oppurtunity.

You inhaled deeply, oxygen rapidly flooding your veins. You could feel your muscles become stronger each second, as adrenaline fills you once more. Bursts of energy traveled all across your body, giving you the courage and power you needed to pull this off. You focused your strength on your legs, and in a flash, you dashed towards your lover.

"Tanjiro.."

The demon takes notice of a presence rapidly approaching him. He growls and turns his attention towards you. Scowling, he screeches loudly, tentacles aggressively whipping around at all angles to attack you.

"When this is all over, let's make our own world,"

You looked up to meet his eyes, and you were with scarlet ones, which were filled with hatred and rage. Your breathe hitches momentarily as a shiver ran up to your spine.

"A world where no one could tears us apart."

Tanjiro had never looked at you with such hostility before. However, you didn't let that faze you as you continuously dodged his never ending assaults against you.

"Enough is enough, Tanjiro."

You jumped and evaded the whips his tentacles threw at you. Then, an opening presents itself, your eyes dilating and you bolted even closer until you came face to face with the demon.

"You musn't make Nezuko cry."

Tanjiro howls out loudly, and he raises a hand with the intent to smash you. You quickly caught the glimpse of his clenched fist, and you leapt, avoiding his arm as it plunged downwards with such speed and strength.

"Come back to us, and you won't be ever lost again,"

You swore everything looked like it was in slow motion. In that moment, a bright light engulfed your surroundings. Your body flew above the demon, and when his back came into full view, you immediately pushed the cure into him. Tears shone in your [ E / C ] orbs, as a love-filled smile appeared on your features.

You didn't even feel the pain when a rouge tentacle managed to successfully pierce itself into you. Your tender gaze never left the boy, and you finally breathed out in relief. You fluttered your eyes close, and you tumbled helplessly against the surface.

"You are the whole world to me."

"[ Y / N]!" Nezuko calls out to you, her face contorted into one of pure horror as she watches your body make harsh contact with the ground.

Suddenly, Tanjiro stops moving. His tentacles ceased it's assaults, and slowly, but surely, it retreats back into his body. The boy to started to shake uncontrollably, exhaling out heavy breathes as his eyes trembled wildly as he stares at the sight of your injured body.

With all the remaining strength you could muster up, you looked up to the demon. Instead of the hatred and rage you had saw moments ago, Tanjiro's Scarlet-hues were filled with regret. Tears ran down his cheeks, sadness clouding over his demonic features.

You inhaled softly, and with each passing moment, you saw his eyes slowly turn back into the Crimson colored orbs that you loved so much. As seconds pass by, your vision began to darken. Exhaling out in exhaustion, you felt thankful that you get to see a glimpse of your Tanjiro once more. You heard loud shouts resound through the field, feeling something tending to your wounds before your sight was further consumed by darkness as you fell into unconsciousness.

--

" -Ma..?"

" -Ma!"

"Mama!"

You jolt up in surprise, trying to catch your breath as cold sweat falls down from the side of your face.

You take a moment to observe your surroundings, and you could find yourself sitting in a bench that was located at an open lake. Sakura trees were abundant, and their beauty was obviously not overlooked as pink blossoms flew around with the cool spring breeze. Flora was flourishing all over, and the sounds of the little animals living in the lake was prominent.

A nightmare? You thought. Sighing deeply, you let yourself fall back in the bench where you were sitting on. A small hand shakes on your own frantically, as you turned your head and smiled softly as a gigantic pair of eyes, clearly filled with worry, gazed into your own.

"I'm sorry, Takeo. Did Mama scare you?" You chuckled, as the child in front of you pouts and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Stop dozing off like that! I was really worried when you started to cry in your sleep again!" Takeo exclaims out, puffing out his cheeks as he stomped on his foot in annoyance.

You laughed at his antics, your melodic voice echoing across the peaceful lake. You leaned forward and raised a hand to gently pat your son's head. The boy looked almost the same as you, seeing as he inherited your complexion, your facial features, and even your [H / C] hair.

There was one thing, though, that distinguished him from looking like a complete carbon copy of you.

He had Crimson colored eyes that he inherited from his father.

Takeo continues to huff out in annoyance, but he couldn't fight the flush rising up to his face from your act of affection towards him. Whether he was going to deny it or not, it was an irrefutable fact that he loved getting his head pats. As you observed Takeo's features, you felt warmth and tenderness embracing your chest. You pulled your hand away from his head and just chuckled at his failed attempts of trying to look angry at you.

"Papa asked me to fetch you, ya know.." Takeo mumbles, his Crimson-orbs looking away from you in embarrassment. "He says that Aunt Nezuko and Uncle Zenitsu are coming over today, along with Uncle Inosuke and Aunt Kanao. He figured that you would be glad to see them again."

"I see." You whispered. Your mouth slowly into a grin, and you nodded gratefully. You felt excitement and joy bubble up in you, as you beamed brightly to your son. "Thank you, Takeo. I'm absolutely delighted to hear that they're coming to visit today."

Slowly, you stood up from the bench, one hand holding on your son's arm for support and the other caressing your swollen belly. You looked up to the heavens, eyes sparkling with gratitude as a thankful sigh escaped from your lips. You shifted your attention away from the blue sky, and softly held your son's hand as you began your way back home.

"Let's go home, shall we?"

Once upon a dream, you never thought the possibility of true love coming to you all your life.

Growing up in a demon infested world, life seemed to be fond of throwing you into hardships and struggle. Despite the horrors of the world, you always persevered. For every challenge that has been hurled towards you, the tribulations have only made you grow stronger and better.

Your life may had started out roughly, but that doesn't mean that it did not change for the better. The endless bloodshed had become relics of the past, moments of time that helped shape the world as it is now.

Recalling those moments of uncertainty, the rays of sunlight peeking through what was once the dark and gloomy clouds had now completely engulfed your life with warmth and tenderness. What you once wanted to experience all those years ago, has now become your reality. The little bits of happiness that you yearned for, now held onto you, never wanting to leave any time soon.

As you get closer to your home, you could hear the voices of children laughing and playing. Soon, you saw a glimpse of your humble abode, and little kids that looked similarly to you and your husband came into view. Takeo releases his hold on you, and he excitedly makes his way towards his siblings. Your expression brightened, a permanent smile present on your face as you took in the sight of your children frolicking around with happiness evident in their faces.

Then, a warm hand snakes over your waist, pulling you towards a broad chest that belonged to your lover. You couldn't contain your giggles as your face was immediately assaulted by small pecks and kisses. His hanafuda earrings seemed to ring each time he moved his head, his long ponytail swaying alongside with the cool breeze. His crimson-eyes gleamed in adoration as he gazes into your own, an adorable grin affixed in his lips as he continued to lock you in his protective embrace.

Sakura petals flew all around, encasing your surroundings with a sense of peace and serenity. After years of struggle, you can finally wake up in the morning without the likelihood of a horrible and painful death looming over you, as your cruel and dark world was now behind you.

Those dark days were long over. Now that you had finally avenged your family and the numerous deaths Muzan Kibutsuji has inflicted upon humanity, you could finally spend the rest of your life in peace.

Now, you had finally found a place to call your home. With him, you had created a whole new world. A world that was overflowing with love and happiness. Now that he would always stay by your side, you won't have to be lost anymore.

Tanjiro lifts up a hand to softly caress your cheek, gazing at you with so much love and adoration. The corners of his mouth quirked up as he fluttered his eyes close and slowly leaned forward. Your expression softened, and you chuckled softly as you put your arms around his shoulders. Your eyelids close shut as you felt your chest swell up with so much emotion, as his lips finally captured yours into a love-filled kiss.

"You are the whole world to me, [ Y / N]."

( a/n: thank you, thank you, thank you so much for following “my world”! it means so much to me that some of you had taken a liking on this series :’D im sorry if there were mistakes and ooc-ness along the way;;;

thank you for reading, and stay safe! you all mean the whole world to me <3)

[parjiljehavey]

Lost Shadows Left Behind ii

Summary: Dante meddles, once again. Hopefully, the results are what Nero is after.

I

Read on AO3 for details notes at the end!

3rd of May, 1:43pm

One year, ten months and eighteen days after the events of Redgrave City

—————————————————————-

It had been some months since Vergil had divulged the name of the woman who had clearly ensnared his heart. Things had improved between Nero and Vergil; they were actually starting to bond, sometimes at Dante’s expense, but hey, Dante was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Dante’s brother had gone off on his own for a hunt, heading over to Siberia after they'd gotten word that locals were claiming vampires were running around several villages. 

Vergil went because Dante didn't speak Russian; he only knew Spanish, Latin, and Italian with a smattering of German; mostly because Dante had liked how foul language sounded in German. Vergil, on the other hand, was a damn polyglot.

Nero had called off and on, busy with the mobile branch and the kids he and Kyrie were raising. Last time Dante had talked to Vergil, the elder twin had actually gotten a letter from Nero with a post script calling him an asshole for forcing Nero to write an actual letter like it was the 19th century because Vergil didn’t have a cellphone.

Vergil, of course, went out and bought the cheapest cell phone he could find after receiving it. Dante had been wheezing for air over Vergil’s grumbling over technology and uncooperative locals. The phone number scribbled on a piece that Dante handed to Nero was met with a nose wrinkled with disgust after the kid had racked the balls for a game of pool. Nothing like a game of pool after pizza, in Dante's opinion.

"Dante, a three year old can write better than this."

"Hey! That's not anyway to thank your amazing uncle for writing down your old man's new phone number. Especially when said uncle is letting you drink his beer." Dante was grinning despite the reprimand. Nero took a drink from one of said beers, raising an eyebrow. "Don't text him by the way. Stick with phone calls; he's still figuring out how to play Tetris on the piece of crap he got. Wait until he gets a smart phone for texting." He broke the rack. A stripe went in. "Solids are yours."

"You mean like the one you broke by falling into a river?" The kid was leaning on his cue, watching as Dante lined up another shot.

"I was thrown into that river, you little punk. I didn't go out that day looking for a swim. If I wanted to go swimming, I would have packed my broad shorts." Dante could have cleared the table if he had wanted to; but this was bonding time with his nephew, so he intentionally messed up his shot.

Nero gave him a look that conveyed that he knew what Dante was doing as the kid set down his beer next to Dante's own to circle the table for a good shot. After pocketing one, Nero did the same thing Dante had and missed on purpose. They fell into a good silence; the crack of the cues hitting the balls as they took turns making their shoots.

“How’s the search for momma doin’?”

Nero grunted, clearing not happy. Oh, he knew that look. It struck Dante for not the first time that this was Vergil’s son and they made similar facial expressions. Dante sighed. “Alright kid, spill it. Tell Uncle Dante what’s buggin’ ya.”

Nero snorted, as he always did when Dante called himself ‘Uncle Dante’ in a conversation. Dante waited, taking his time with his next shot to give the kid some time to get his thoughts into order.

“There’s only two women that it could be. One died in ‘94 and the other disappeared a month or so after I was born. The problem is that the woman who died was a nun; the Spardan nuns took their vows of chastity seriously and very rarely left the convent’s tower. When they did, it was documented for what reason and when, right down to the time. None of the nuns left the tower around the time Vergil would have been in Fortuna.”

Dante leaned against the table, twirling the cue stick in his hand. The kid was pacing, not even paying attention that it was his turn now. “So that leaves the one who disappeared, right? Where’s the problem there?”

“The problem is that she didn’t disappear in Fortuna. There was a group that helped those who became disillusioned with Sanctus get to the mainland; to start over. The majority of that group was... eliminated. A surviving member recalls taking a woman to the mainland shortly after I was born.” Nero trailed off, scowling as his grip tightened around the cue. Dante could hear the wood beginning to creak.

“Nero.”

“What?”

“Wanna put the stick down before ya break it?” Nero looked at the stick and set it down on the table after a moment. When his nephew remained silent, Dante sighed. This kid was too much like his old man sometimes. “I take it the trail went cold after she hit the mainland?”

Nero sighed, moving to sit down heavily on the new couch Vergil had gotten for the office. The old one had kicked the bucket finally while Dante was taking a nap, making Vergil actually laugh. Nero eventually nodded, head in his hands. “The trail went cold when she arrived in Genoa. There’s literally nothing left to go on.”

The earlier anger that the kid had was gone and now he was just deflated. Dante really didn't know what to do or say; so he did what he did best. He created a distraction by knocking the beers from their perch on the table. Nero snorted despite himself; kid probably knew what Dante was trying to do but if the kid was laughing, Dante'd take it. Dante looked at the mess on the floor, sighing. He shrugged, “Wanna get us some new ones while I clean this up?”

“Actually wipe it up, Dante. Putting the rug over it doesn't count.”

“What if I roll Vergil's chair through it? The wheels getting gummed up will annoy him.”

“Dante!”

—————————————————————-

3rd of May, 3:32pm

—————————————————————-

Dante stared up at the ceiling above his desk, processing everything from the past few hours. Nero had volunteered to go pick up pizza, and Dante was sure that it was both for the kid to clear his head and to talk to Kyrie without Dante teasing him too much for it. Dante really didn’t want to make a habit of meddling in affairs that weren’t his (First giving Vergil a kick in the ass about Nero's mom and now this?), but this was for family right? 

Family helped family when said family needed help. Dante picked up the phone and dialed one of the numbers that he pretty much knew by heart now.

“Hey Morrison! I want to know if you can dig up some information on somebody for me. You can have whatever you want.”

Got a name?

“Yeah, Lucrecia.”

Lucrecia? Dante heard the information broker repeat it several times under his breath and then heard a rustle of paper.

“From what I understand, she arrived on the mainland sometime in the nineties from Fortuna, ended up in Genoa. Trail went cold on our end of things there.”

Lucrecia Capello?

“Dunno. Never got her last name, if she had one. Why?”

I’m thinking that the Lucrecia you’re looking for is the same one I’ve got in mind. Remember that coalition that formed about ten years ago?

“Yeah? What about it?” Dante remembered it; some hunters pulled together to train up new hunters in a manner that meant less of them dying on their first couple of hunts as greenhorns and a more accessible list of jobs. Readily available backup and access to an arsenal of weapons were big enough bonuses that had a lot of human hunters signing up.

They had extended an offer for him to join when the coalition had first formed, one that still stood because he never responded one way or the other. Lady had actually considered joining up, but Dante couldn’t remember if anything came of that or not.

She’s part of it. One of their top ranged hunters, as it turns out.

“Ranged as in what? Bazooka?” Explosives were a popular choice amongst human hunters.

No, son. Sniper on the rooftops. She can shoot doublets .

Dante let out a low whistle. Doublets, as it was called amongst sharpshooters, was two shots hitting two targets in quick succession. Very impressive. “Where is she right now?”

Got that right here, son. ‘Bout a hundred miles up north of you last I heard; been there for a while actually. I believe she’s training a new hunter; took on a couple C rank jobs off my hands. Want her number?

“You mind?”

Nah. It’s for your nephew ain’t it?

“There’s nothing that gets past you is there Morrison?”

Afraid not.

—————————————————————-

4th of May, 7:38am

—————————————————————-

One year, ten months and nineteen days after the events of Redgrave City

For the second time in just as many days, Dante had given him a phone number. His uncle had handed him a piece of paper with a grin after Nero had come back with the pizza, stole a couple slices and went off on a hunt. All the hunter had said was, “Think this might be the woman you’re looking for, champ.” and out the door he went for a job. Nero looked at the number again, scrawled in Dante’s horrendous handwriting. 

It had taken Nero hitting a This number has been disconnected message twice before he realized that Dante’s nines were written like fours. Seriously, the five year old Nero and Kyrie were raising could write better than this. Nero grumbled, leg twitching as he listened to the phone finally dial.

Password?

“Are you Lucrecia Capello?” Jeez, it was hard to talk. It felt like he was swallowing his tongue.

Depends on who’s asking. Do you have the password? The voice was melodic, with a dry wit.

“No. Listen, this isn’t about a hunt.” There was a snort on the other line. “Don’t hang up! My name is Nero. I-” He cleared his throat, “There’s no easy way to say this. I think I’m your son.”

...When were you born?

“September 19th, 1992.” The sound of a sharp inhale.

And where were you born?

“I’m sorry?”

Where were you born?

“Fortuna.”

The other line was silent for several long moments, and Nero would’ve thought the call had been disconnected if he wasn’t able to pick up the sound of choppy breathing and someone in the background asking if something was wrong. Nero jumped when he heard a door slam shut. He thought he could hear a racing heartbeat; he didn’t know if it was from the other line or his own. It was just now hitting him that he was more than likely speaking to his mother.

“Hello?”

What would be a good time and place to meet, Nero?

—————————————————————-

tagging: @queenmuzz and @starrymindgurl

[shestrying2write]

Blank Pages pt 2

Pairing: Ivar x reader

Warnings: Violence, attempted rape, curse words, implied rape, character deaths, my stories timeline and the shows timeline inconsistencies.

Word Count: 6.9k

Author’s note: Sorry it’s so long, I really wanted to keep it whole. Part 3 is being worked on as we speak and I’m sorry for the delays. Let me know what you guys think and send me any questions you have. I also have a face claim for Erik if any of you are curious !

Summary: What happened in the time Y/N ran away

Masterlist

Pt 1 // Pt 3

Ivar arrived defeated, hoping for the comfort of Y/N and of his mother. His father was gone now, and it was up to him to avenge him. He couldn’t wait to just be coddled by his mother and tell Y/N that she was right and that he should never have gone. That he wished he had stayed with her in Kattegat, that he had missed her more than anything. Not only did he not find Y/N at the docks to receive him, but he was given the news of his mother’s murder and that Largetha was now in charge. To say that Ivar was livid, was an understatement. He only saw red and wanted to do nothing more than seek revenge. His mother was gone, surely Y/N was holed up, terrified, he never should have left her alone. He dragged himself to her small cabin to find it abandoned. It looked like no one had  lived there in all the time he had been gone. She really had left. He looked around the room at all the tattered parchment with fading ink. All mostly blank pages, none explaining where she had gone. But an even worse thought crept its way into his mind; perhaps something had happened to her. What if Largetha took the two women he loved most from him? His brothers tried to assure him that Y/N had most likely left before the death of their mother, but none of them knew where she was or where she could have gone. Bjorn made sure to ask his mother about her and he was told she knew nothing of who he spoke about. She told him she had nothing against the sons of Ragnar and would never go out of her way to harm them, she simply wanted her home back. Ivar had taken the last crumpled letter he had found of hers and tucked it away in his belongings. She wrote that she loved him, she had to come back. She just did. 

The anger from losing her only fueled the vengeance he wanted to get on Lagertha. He had moped around Kattegat, snapping at everyone that got in his way, refusing to talk to anyone. His arguments with Sigurd had amplified and he had nearly killed him once. 

“There are other women in the world” Ubbe had tried to distract him once, only to be met with a scoff

“None that will ever want to touch him” Sigurd had mocked. Ubbe tried to stop the argument before it got out of hand, but that was an impossible task. “I mean just look at Y/N. Poor girl, felt trapped. Terrified Ivar would kill her if she didn’t pretend to not be nauseated by him. She ran the first chance she got. I’m sure she’s much happier now, with a real man” if Ubbe hadn’t intervened, the knife in Ivar’s hand would have been lodged in Sigurd’s eye. “You’re insane Ivar” Sigurd had gotten up to leave, his last words venom to Ivar’s ears “No wonder Y/N left you” 

The days turned into weeks. In his attempt to forget about Y/N he had tried to lay with the slave that all his brothers shared and that had been a disaster. All he could think about when he was thrusting above her, was how Y/N probably laid under another man. How she was probably lying with any man she wanted, how she had lied to him when she told him she loved him. He hadn’t been able to satisfy Margarethe, he had done nothing but hurt her and now every woman in Kattegat knew he couldn’t function as a man. Y/N had stolen his heart, and his manhood and he couldn’t forgive that. Yet, late at night when he would hear girlish giggles, he would remember her. The way her eyes crinkled, the way her nose would scrunch up whenever he complimented her, the way she would hold his hand and sit in silence with him whenever he was upset. She had done everything to make him happy, she had given up other friendships, she had turned down men that offered her marriage all for him and he couldn’t give her the one thing she asked him for, to be his priority. As much as he wanted to hate her, he couldn’t. He stayed up, looking at the stars, imagining that she also looked to the stars and thought of him. 

“If the gods ever bless me with her presence again, I will not let her slip through my fingers” he had sworn to Hvitserk once as they drank. “I will not lose her a second time. I will choose her, like I should have done from the beginning” his brother only nodded in agreement as he listened to Ivar, too scared to say anything that might set him off. 

The weeks went by and Ivar spoke about her less and less, putting all his anger and energy toward uniting all the Vikings for Ragnar's Vengeance. Things had slowly begun to become like they were before. Eventually Ivar didn’t speak of her at all and his brothers knew better than to bring her up. 

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

Leaving had been the hardest thing she had ever done. That was until she had run out of food and still had no settlement. Then hunting was the hardest. She cursed herself for not taking it seriously when Ivar tried to teach her to fight. She never thought she would be in a position where she would have to. She imagined Ivar would always be there to protect her.

After living in the woods for a couple of weeks in peace, she had heard screaming. She grabbed her dagger, terrified and made her way to the noise. “Ivar would kill you if he knew you were putting yourself in danger” she mumbled to herself as she quietly continued going through the trees. She shook her head and scoffed, Ivar’s dead, he doesn’t care about much anymore. As she continued her path she saw a woman in fine clothes, on the floor, her guards dead, and two men laughing trying to rip at her dress. Y/N made eye contact with the woman and signaled for her to remain quiet. She threw something on the other side of the clearing and one of the men fell for it.

“I’ll go check it out. Don’t have too much fun without me” he laughed as he left to check out the noise. 

“Alright my lady. Time to see if you taste as good as you look” the other man growled as he pulled the woman by her leg, lifting her dress. Before the woman could scream, blood splattered all over her face as Y/N jumped the man and dragged her knife across the man’s throat. 

“Can you walk?” She asked the frightened woman who simply nodded and stood. “Good. Go to your cart, lay down and don’t come out until I come back for you.” The woman nodded once more and muttered a thank you before running to her cart. Y/N couldn’t believe she had done that. She killed a man, she defended a woman in need. Ivar would have been proud. She heard the other man come back.

“Must have been an animal” he shouted over. He saw his companion on the ground covered in blood and ran to him. He crouched to examine his body, Y/N had hoped she could catch him off guard as well but she accidently stepped on a twig. He rushed over to her and grabbed her arm, knocking the knife out of her hand. “You’re not the Earls daughter, but I’m sure you’ll feel just as good warming my bed” he threw her on the ground and began undoing his belt. Y/N’s eyes went wide as she tried to find an escape and found none. She was pinned to the ground with no weapon. The man lifted her dress and then his body fell heavily on top of hers, the woman she had saved standing over him, with a huge piece of wood in her hand; she had hit him upside the head.

“I know you said to wait for you, but you looked like you needed help” she stuttered out, tears staining her face, her dress filthy and her hands shaking. Y/N crawled out from under the man and quickly grabbed her dagger. She grabbed the woman in a quick hug. They both turned their attention to the man groaning and trying to stand. The strange woman took a step back, but Y/N was angry. This man had tried to take advantage of them. She turned the man over and quickly plunged the dagger into his throat. His gurgles echoed in the woods as Y/N pulled out her dagger and wiped the blood on the man’s clothes. She searched both the bodies for anything of value they might have. “How can I ever repay you?” The woman called out to Y/N. 

“No need. I’m just glad I got to you before those men could hurt you”

“Please. Come back with me. My father, he’s an Earl. I’m sure he can pay you, he would surely be grateful. Let me at least offer you a bath and a warm meal” Y/N nodded and smiled. For once the gods were looking out for her. 

The journey wasn’t a long one. The woman was named Asger. She had been right. Her father had been grateful to Y/N for saving his daughter. He had insisted that she stayed with them as a thank you. He always kept an eye on her and Y/N had noticed. She confronted him about it and he had become flustered. He confessed that though she was much younger than him, he admired her. He admired the way she trained and the way she looked out for his people, even though they were strangers to her. His people liked her and she quickly became one of them. He confessed that he was smitten by her and told her he believed that Odin had put those two men in his daughters path in order to bring Y/N to him. She had never been so flattered. She apologized for thinking the worst of him and agreed to having dinner with him, just them. Their relationship had grown quickly and before the new season they had wed. Y/N was as happy as she could be with the pain of Ivar’s death still in her heart. The village accepted her and loved her, they were appreciative of all she did for them. Her new husband would joke that if his people were given the choice, they would probably choose her over him. Unaware, Y/N didn’t realize that when he made these comments, he wasn’t joking, he was warning her. He slowly stopped her from training, by telling her he didn’t want her to get hurt and that he would always protect her. He promised her love and asked her for children. She was hesitant at first but she had always wanted a family, she was just sad it wouldn’t be with Ivar. Though the Earl wanted children, the gods did not wish that fate upon them. One night the Earl had gotten frustrated when Y/N told him she had bled, which meant she wasn’t pregnant. During the midst of their argument he had accidentally let it slip that it was him who had sent the men to teach his daughter a lesson. 

The longer they were together, the more disgusted she became with him. He wasn’t the sweet man he had presented himself as. He was cruel and vindictive, he had basically confined Y/N to the bedroom until her womb would take his seed. His daughter had become her ally. She would sometimes sneak in to give her a treat or keep her company. One day she stopped coming and Y/N had heard from a thrall loyal to her that Asger had been sporting a big bruise on her cheek, most likely given to her by her father. Y/N felt lost, she had begun talking to Ivar when she was alone, hoping her voice would reach him in Valhalla. 

“WIFE!” Her husband had come stumbling in, causing her to jump. “I’ve had a bath prepared for you, with your favorite oils” she hesitantly got up from her sewing spot and followed him to the tub. He helped her undress and helped her wash her hair, if anyone saw them, they would think he was the most loving husband. Y/N was suspicious but said nothing. “A dear friend of mine is arriving tonight” Ah, there it was. He wanted her to be on her best behavior. To pretend they were the happy couple he told the world they were. “He has very powerful warriors, together we could conquer many. It is important that he sees us as a unit, that he sees us as stable. Is that clear?” His grip on her hair had gotten tighter and she let a squeak escape her lips as she nodded 

“Of course husband” she muttered out. He released her hair and planted a kiss on her forehead. 

“Wonderful. I shall see you at dinner then” with that he left and Y/N was left with tears running down her face. Why did Ivar leave her to this life? She couldn’t handle another man like her husband. Surely this friend was as cruel as the last man that had come to ask for Asger’s hand. Thankfully she was able to persuade him into denying the man and protecting Asger. It had been at her expense, but she had grown fond of Asger and would do anything to protect her. 

She had arrived before her husband to the dinner and decided to walk outside, enjoying the fresh air, making sure the thralls had everything prepared for the guests. “Are all the women here as beautiful as you?” A voice had startled her and she blushed. She looked around to see who the man had been talking to, surely it couldn’t be her. She didn’t recognize him, he must be one of the warriors that came with her husband's friend. He chuckled softly at her disbelief and stepped closer. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you”

“Not at all” she managed to muster. It was rare that she was at a loss for words, but this was the first kindness she had been offered by a man in a long time. As he stepped closer into the light, she was mesmerized by his deep green eyes, almost like Odin had picked his two favorite emeralds and placed it on this man’s face. “You really shouldn’t go around saying things like that. It could land you in trouble”

He laughed again, his laugh drawing her in further. “Perhaps you are right, but, I feel like things with beauty given to them by Freyja herself should be told” Y/N’s whole face burned and she was glad for the dim lighting, so that the handsome man could not see her reddened cheeks. 

“You are too kind, truly.” She knew she needed to run away from this man before her husband saw them. He would not be happy that such a handsome man was giving her attention. “I’m sorry, but I must be going.” Before he could respond she made haste in walking back to the hall only to be met with the eyes of her angry husband. 

“There you are, wife. I was beginning to worry” he chastised her softly. She simply bowed her head and made her way to her seat beside him. 

“My apologies husband. I was enjoying the fresh air” he hummed in response and squeezed her hand as a warning. The hall began filling with people, their people and her husband's friends. She saw Asger quietly make her way in and sit in a corner. She leaned over and placed her lips quickly on her husband's cheek “I’m going to mingle with our guests my love” she didn’t give him a chance to refuse as she got up and made her way to Asger. They were hidden amongst the crowd and they hugged. “My dear Asger. I am so sorry if I have brought you any misfortune” she reached for her cheek and Asger just let out a smile 

“Do not be silly Y/N. On the contrary. I’m sure you have taken some of the humiliations that he usually dishes on me” she grabbed Y/N’s hand and squeezed it. “I am simply thankful to have a friend as kind as you”

“We will escape this hell I promise you” she whispered in her ear as she hugged her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to pretend to be a wife in love with her husband.” Asger nodded to her And Y/N made her way back to her husband, spotting the familiar red hair she had seen when she was walking outside. She hoped he wouldn’t say anything to her, in front of her husband. 

“There she is. My lovely wife” her husband pointed to her and the man standing in front of her husband turned to look her way. His green eyes looked...sad? Y/N made her way to them and bowed her head as she reached the men “Y/N, this is my old friend Earl Erik” The man reached for her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles

“You are very lucky to have such a beauty to call yours” he muttered, his eyes never once leaving hers. She cursed herself for letting her cheeks get so red and for letting herself get so flustered.

“Dangerous words” Y/N whispered with a smile and Erik chuckled with a nod. 

“She is quite a beauty isn’t she? A great prize indeed” her husband’s voice was not one of praise for her, but of pride for his appearance. 

“Indeed” Earl Erik let out a wink as Y/N giggled. Her husband quickly ruined their moment as he stood from his seat and laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. He guided him away and Erik's eyes followed Y/N no matter how far they got from each other. Y/N tried to keep from looking at him, but she could always feel those emerald eyes staring at her. 

The night had dragged and Y/N had excused herself to her chambers as her husband planted a drunken and sloppy kiss on her lips. It was the only time she had noticed that Earl Erik had looked away from her. Sleep had quickly taken a hold of her and for once she didn’t dream of Ivar. Instead of the ocean she dreamt of emeralds. She was woken up in the morning by her husband getting ready for the day. “I will be very busy today. I expect you to keep Erik company today. He informed me he will be staying some weeks and with any luck he’ll ask for Asger’s hand and we’ll be united as family” she felt her smile falter at his last sentence and she nodded. 

“Of course husband” When her husband left, she found herself spending extra time getting ready. She had her thralls braid half of her hair up and wore a dress the same green as his eyes. She shook her head as she admired herself in the mirror “it’s just to make him want to marry Asger” she reminded herself. She straightened her dress one last time and added flowers into her braids. 

She walked into the hall to see Erik devouring his meal. “Do they not have manners where you come from?” She teased as he looked up at her with the biggest smile. 

“I didn’t realize you would be blessing me with your presence” he wiped his mouth and stood up, to pull a chair out for her. 

“Well you’ve already eaten.” She pushed the chair back in “without me” she shook her head and tsked at him with a mocking laugh. “How about we explore?”

“I’d follow you to Valhalla and back if you asked” he winked at her again and she shook her head in mock disapproval. 

“Dangerous words” she repeated to him and soon that became their routine. She would show him around, they’d have lunch together, he would spend the day complimenting her and she’d tell him they were dangerous words. 

Three weeks had passed and she had learned everything about him and he had learned things about her as well. She told him how she had lost the love of her life once and he confided in her that he too had lost the love of his life during childbirth, but that their son was alive and healthy back home. He also admitted that while he was fond of Asger, he had seen her grow up and had no desire to marry a woman that he saw as a daughter. She had also learned that he loved when Y/N wore red and when she added flowers into her hair and so she did both more often. He had confessed that he was jealous his friend had met her first, but he would never betray him. He confessed that he wished his friend could see how lucky he was to have her. One night while he had gotten drunk, he had tried to kiss her and she had quickly moved away. “I’m married” her voice was shaky and so were her hands as she looked around. He had apologized profusely and told her he didn’t know what came over him. She excused herself from his company and avoided him the rest of the night. She had confided in Asger what had happened and Asger simply smiled. 

“He clearly cares for you. My father doesn’t deserve you” Y/N shushed her and looked around to make sure no one heard. 

“Asger you cannot say these things. Your father could hear” 

“Run away with him. Just because I’m stuck with my father forever doesn’t mean you have to be. You lost your great love once, don’t let another slip by” She grabbed both of Y/N’s hands and tried to comfort her. 

“Those are foolish dreams Asger. Earl Erik simply wants to bed me, like every other man. He wouldn’t stand by me if I chose to defy your father.” She stood and kissed Asger’s cheek “Now go get some sleep. I hear that arrogant man who asked for your hand is back. You’ll need all the rest you can get” 

They departed and entered their respective rooms. Y/N’s husband was waiting for her as soon as she entered. The closer she got to him the more the smell of mead flooded her senses. He was drunk. “WELL THERE IS MY WHORE WIFE” he slurred out. Y/N cringed at his comment and began to undo her braids

“I don’t know why you speak to me like that” before she could turn around to face him, he had run over and gripped her arm to spin her. His hand wrapped around her throat and he squeezed until she was clawing at his hands for air. “Please” she begged and he only moved closer to her face. 

“I told you to keep Erik happy, to convince him to marry Asger. NOT TO FUCK HIM UNDER MY OWN ROOF” She tried to shake her head to deny it, but her head was spinning and her chest hurt. He finally let go of her and she dropped to the floor coughing. “Get up” he slurred as he kicked her leg. 

She took a deep breath and stood, keeping her head high. “I did no such thing husband. I would never do that. I have simply been keeping him company”

“Between your legs !” He spit back “I know what you and my daughter are planning and it’s not gonna work. You will stay married to me, Erik will go home to his child and as for Asger.” His eyes went dark as he chuckled “She will be taken away for marriage by Gunnvor for breeding”

Y/N felt her heart jump out of her chest as she reached for his arm, throwing herself on her knees at his mercy “No please. You Cannot send her to that man. He’s killed his last three wives. Please husband. I beg of you. Spare your daughter. Please” The kohl she once had neatly around her eyes were now staining her cheeks and her tears would not seize. 

He shoved her back and as his stare bore holes into her he yelled “You disgust me. Get up.” She sobbed softly still muttering pleas for Asger. Swearing up and down that nothing had happened between her and Erik and that nothing ever would. All she felt was a sharp pain on her cheek and then a blunt edge hit the side of her head as her husband slapped her and her head fell against the table. She knew her cheek would bruise and she felt a warm liquid run down the side of her head. Her husband threw a rag at her and spit on the floor beside her legs “Clean yourself up and get to bed. Tomorrow we welcome our future son and bid farewell to Asger” 

Y/N curled into herself as she let herself cry. When she heard her husband's snore fill their chambers, she stood up and cleaned herself off. She stood over him as he slept. She had never felt so much disgust for another human being. She had to stop him. She had to save Asger, by any means necessary. 

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

Her fingers slowly traced the dark mark on her cheek. She flinched as she attempted to put on something to help cover the dark mark. She was furious and embarrassed. How could she show her face? Everyone would know how she got the bruise. Her thrall quietly opened the door and informed her that her husband required her presence in the hall. She took a deep breath and plastered the biggest fakest smile she could as she made her way to the feast. Her eyes immediately found Erik’s and she saw his smile fade as she got closer. She made quick work of looking away from him and joining her husband's side. 

“I can’t wait for this night to be over” He groaned as his hand found its way to her thigh, giving it a squeeze. She didn’t flinch or move away, she felt numb. She could feel people’s eyes on her and she hated that they were probably whispering about her. 

“Where...where's Asger?” She whispered, not wanting to give her husband any more reason to be angry

“Getting ready to be acquainted with her new husband” There it was again, that deep chuckle that made fear run through her veins. 

Her eyes were on the floor most of the night, she didn’t feel like mingling or pretending like nothing was wrong. When her husband had left her side to relieve himself, she saw Erik run over. His hand instinctively going for her cheek and she moved her head away “Please” she pleaded with him “Just leave me alone”

He quickly apologized for any actions of his that might have cost her pain. “Did he do this to you?” Y/N just nodded her head and felt a tear come down her cheek. “I am so sorry that he is an idiot. Let me take you away. Far from here, where he can never touch you again” His hand found its way back onto her cheek, his thumb softly stroking her skin

She looked into his pleading eyes and smiled. Gods how she wished she had met him first. Asger’s words rang in her ears, the words that told her she should take this opportunity to get away from her aggressive husband. “I can’t” her lips, quickly met the palm of his hand as he stroked her cheek and then pulled it away. “I can’t abandon Asger. Now please. Leave before my husband sees you talking to me. Leave before more rumors begin” When he refused to go anywhere she sighed “Then I will go.” She stood up and walked away from him, leaving him wishing he could save her. She quickly ran down the hall, trying to find where Asger could be, she needed to save her before it was too late. Y/N had survived in the woods once, she could do it again, this time with Asger by her side. As she was trying to come up with an escape route for them, she saw Asger stumble out of a room. Her hair was messy and tears stained her cheeks. Her pink cheeks covered in Kohl and her dress half laced up. “Asger” she called out as she ran to her. By the look in Asger’s eyes, she knew she was too late to save her. They both fell to the ground as Asger weeped into Y/N’s shoulder, holding her tightly. She sang softly to her and promised to protect her, no matter what. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get to you in time my sweet dear Asger. I’m so sorry” 

After what felt like hours of them just holding on to each other, Y/N took Asger to her room and helped her bathe and laid her down. She held her until she had fallen asleep and kissed her forehead before leaving. How could her husband do such a thing to his own daughter. What kind of a man was he? She tried to calm herself down as she reached her room. She could hear her husband mumbling to himself and she felt the anger boil in her veins. She opened the door and found him undressing himself. When he turned to her he had a big drunk smile on his face. “There you are” the slurs were barely understandable. “Come here wife. Let me fill you with a baby tonight” He quickly stomped up to her and grabbed her by the arm, shoving her down on the bed. Her body bounced and then felt the weight of his on top of hers. “I’m going to make you scream my name. Let Erik know who you belong to” He had pinned both her arms above her and his lips were on her neck. 

“Husband please.” She pleaded as she tried to push him off “Not like this.” she felt his grip get stronger on her wrists as his other hand went down to part her legs for him. She quickly turned her head, her lips met his and she kissed him. “Let me make you feel good first.” She tried to close her legs, trying to buy herself some time. His grip loosened and she pulled her wrists out of his hold. Her arms snaking around his neck, she kissed him again and flipped them over. She straddled him and leaned down, her lips on his and her arm finding its way under her pillow. She felt the cool steel of the knife that Ivar had made her. Even from Valhalla he was protecting her. Her husband’s hands roamed her body, pulling up her dress, trying to feel more skin. She leaned into his ear and placed a small kiss before whispering “This is for Asger,” His response was nothing more than gargling as he choked on his own blood, Y/N’s knife was embedded in the center of his throat. She grabbed her husband's hands, which were thrashing trying to push her off and pinned them above his head. “How does it feel husband? To feel so powerless. To know that you lose? To know that your daughter will inherit your lands? To know that your wife is the one who took your chance from ever dining in Valhalla?” She stared into his eyes, making sure there was no life left in them before getting off of him and going to wash her hands. ‘I killed him. I did that. Me’ her thoughts were running rampant and she didn’t know what had come over her. How could she be so stupid? What was she going to do now? Surely they would kill her. She knew the people loved her, but she killed their leader. Once her hands were scrubbed clean, she changed her clothes and snuck outside for fresh air. She walked toward the water and saw someone sitting on one of the logs, staring at the sea. She tried to go back but knocked over some things and emerald eyes immediately found hers. She sighed in relief, she always felt so comfortable around him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you” She tried to turn away, but the rustling of him running over stopped her. 

His hand reached toward hers and his fingers lightly ran over the back of her hand. “Please don’t go” his whisper was a plea and she obeyed. How could this man be so magnetic? He led her to where he had been sitting and they both sat on the ground. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” his eyes traced over every feature of hers as she stared blankly at the sea. The same sea that had taken Ivar away from her. “My offer still stands. Run away with me” 

She turned to look at him with tears in her eyes. “You’re better off without me” 

“How could you say that? I- I think I might love you” his eyes darted to their intertwined hands before looking back into her eyes, his were full of hope and possibility. “Your lost love would want you to be safe and happy.”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She felt almost guilty as she heard the waves of the water crash against the boats, almost as if Ivar was protesting from Valhalla at the mention of him. She had gotten married once, but she knew it wasn’t love. Erik however, he was different, she could see herself round with his children, she could see herself growing old with him, waiting at the docks as he returned from battle. She leaned closer to him as her eyes opened, could she betray her love with Ivar? Was this even a betrayal? Before she could overthink anything, she let her lips crash into Erik’s, her hands pulled him by his furs and held him close. Erik didn’t hesitate to kiss her back, his hand on her cheek and the other on his lap. 

She rested her forehead on his as she breathed deeply “I killed him” her voice was almost inaudible and Erik didn’t think he could have heard her right 

“What was that?” his fingers stroked her cheek.

“I killed my husband” This time she said it louder and sat back, she’d rather pull away from Erik than have him pull away from her. She couldn’t handle being rejected right now. “He-” she started crying and Erik pulled her in once more. He wrapped his arms around her and tried to soothe her. “He tried to have Asger killed once, and tonight he had her ra-- I just couldn’t take it anymore. He was cruel and he didn’t deserve to continue living.”

Erik closed his eyes and held her tighter against his body, his hand running up and down her back slowly. “It’s going to be okay.” He didn’t know how to react. He would have done the same in her position, he knew that her husband was no good and there had been many occasions where he wished he had killed him, himself. Nothing made him angrier than when he had seen Y/N bruised, he had almost killed him right then. “I will protect you. What did you do with the body?” he asked and felt Y/N stiffen in his arms. She told him that it was still in their chambers and Erik went to wake some of his men to help her dispose of his body. He took her to Asger’s room and told her to stay there until morning. He would come and get her when the time was right. 

Upon entering Asger’s bedroom, she woke up. “Y/N what are you doing here?” Y/N ran over to her and hugged her tightly “You’re safe now, just like I promised. He will never harm you again. No one ever will again” Asger didn’t know what Y/N meant but she didn’t ask any questions, she just held her friend until she was ready to talk. They both fell asleep, holding each other once more. 

Morning had come too quickly and Y/N woke up first. She patiently waited for Erik to come and get her. They spoke of what to do next and then Erik left to make preparations. Y/N awoke Asger and told her to come to the hall when she was done getting ready. There was an important announcement to be given.

Once the hall was filled with people, Y/N took her usual seat, beside the empty one her husband usually sat on. Erik had his men posted in front of her for protection. He wasn’t sure who in this village he could trust around her. She quieted the hall and Erik stepped up to tell the people what had happened to their Earl, but he felt her small hand on his shoulder “It should be me” she whispered to him and he frowned at her, but nodded. As he stepped aside she stood in front of her people and took a deep breath “Your Earl is dead” the crowd broke into loud whispering as they all talked amongst themselves. 

“How?!”

“Who’s in charge now?” “When did he die?”

The people were all shouting questions and she settled them all before continuing. “All of you know me, and you knew my husband” she looked around at the knowing eyes. Some people looked down and avoided her gaze. Everyone knew she had been a happy and cheery woman before marrying their Earl. They all heard the commotions and they had all seen her bruise. “You know he wasn’t the kindest man, you know he always looked out for his interests and not yours” some people scoffed and others agreed, most remaining silent. “I have helped you all from the start. Asger has always looked out for you all. She has always been the people’s ruler. My husband wasn’t fit to rule, he wasn’t fit to be a father and he definitely wasn’t fit to be a husband” The crowd began murmuring again, some were beginning to put it together. “Last night your Earl tried to rape me” the hall was loud now and so Y/N raised her voice “So last night, your Earl choked on his own blood. Killed by my hand” Everyone went crazy and Erik quickly pulled her behind him in case anyone loyal to the late Earl tried to kill her. But she refused to hide. “I married him thinking he was a different man. I was wrong. I will accept whatever punishment you all deem I deserve.” she bowed her head to them.

“Good riddance” one man yelled out

“He was a shit Earl anyway!” “No one will miss him!”

Y/N wasn’t expecting that the hall would all be yelling praises and acceptance at her. She knew her people were unhappy but she didn’t know they would celebrate his death. Of course some were loyal to her late husband, because they were friends and offered certain privileges, but they were severely outnumbered and so they remained quiet. “Will you take over as Earl then?!” a woman had yelled out and Y/N simply smiled as her eyes met Asger, who had heard enough to know what was going on. 

She shook her head “You deserve someone that cares for you all, someone that has already been your ruler, someone who has grown with you and will protect you all no matter the sacrifice.” She walked into the crowd and toward Asger “You deserve Asger as your Earl” Asger was in tears as she heard her people cheer for her. Y/n leaned in to hug her and whispered “No man will ever control you again. You’re free.” 

The women stared into each other's eyes and then Asger looked behind Y/N at Erik “As are you Y/N. Go with him. I’ll be fine on my own.” They nodded at each other and began the celebrations. 

Asger had the man who had violated her punished and sent on his way, never to return to her lands again. She hand picked her guards and offered Y/N her pick in warriors to take on her journey with Erik. The second biggest goodbye of her life was bittersweet. She left Asger with tears in her eyes and love in her heart, they promised they would write and visit each other. 

Erik did not miss a beat in claiming Y/N as his and together they sailed to a better life. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my days with you” Erik’s hand was around her waist as they stared into the long sea.

She turned into his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck “Dangerous words” she mumbled as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.

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The Chain (Part 5)

Main Concept: Two love struck idiots get sent back to a pretty UGH time period in their lives (that required me to reread all the books again) and have to hide the fact that they know everything. 

Find Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 

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Chapter 5 

Cal leaves me a few houses away from my own, and stays in the shadows of another home’s stilts while I walk the last hundred meters to my porch. I can spot the outline of my father’s shadow in the dark as I approach and I glance over my shoulder once to make sure Cal is concealed. Even to my now trained eye, I can’t spot him. He’s much better at hiding now. 

“You shouldn’t worry your mother like that,” my father’s voice rumbles from the shadows, his eyes narrowed. They dance over my shoulder, probably trying to spot what I am looking for. He won’t spot Cal though. At least, he won’t spot him if Cal stays put until we get onto the porch. While I love him, sometimes he’s not the brightest bulb in the country. 

“I’m sorry.” I whisper to my father as he squints at the shadows down the street. If Cal didn’t stay put I think I might have to kill him. 

Slowly turning his eyes back to me, my father shifts in his chair before jabbing a thumb at the utility box. He lets out a huff. “Power went out. Thought I’d give it a look.” He wheels over to the source of his musings wheezing the whole way. I follow dutifully, already sensing the electric current humming from the ground. I can tell which wire is faulty too. Like a small spot of darkness in otherwise pure light, it sticks out like a sore thumb. “’Lec papers didn’t work?” I ask as I watch him try to tinker with the box. 

He pulls one of them from his shirts and feeds it into the box. Nothing happens though. Twisting my lips to the side, I step in front of him and hear his wheel’s squeak as he rolls out of my way. 

“What are you going to do? You can’t fix the damn busted thing.” He grumbles, and that clicking in his chest gets louder as he coughs. 

Prying the thing open with my fingers, I glance at the mess of wires. I need him to look away while I do this. I can’t have him seeing what I can do, especially if all I do is grab a wire and all the lights turn on. I step back from it then, knowing that I’ll have to do it the old fashioned way. 

He rolls forward and smacks the box before I can even try to do anything. His hand hits the metal with a deadening thump that I can feel through my own resting on top. I watch as he continues to hit it, hoping to bring something to life with each swing. I let him throw one good hit before thrusting life back into the box. Sparks dance on the wires, and above us, the porch light hums to life. 

“Well, fancy that,” Dad mutters before spinning in the mud and wheeling himself back to his pulley. Closing the box with one hand, I clench my other hand into a fist to quench the sparks that want to explode to life. 

He waits for me to approach before buckling in and saying, “No more running.” 

I nod and try to smile. I don’t have the heart to tell him what he needs to hear. I’ll be gone by tomorrow and I won’t be back for days. They’ll think I’m dead, and that’s fine. We’re alright someday, I promise myself as I watch the rig rise to the porch with a whine. When he gets there, I climb the ladder, using the time to glance in the shadows for Cal. One detaches and starts walking. He stayed the whole time, I think with a stupid smile. Maybe he had gotten a little smarter. 

At the top, Dad struggles with the rig and I scramble up the ladder before helping him with the belts. When he’s finally free, he mutters, “Bugger of a thing.” 

I can’t help but smile. For all his rough edges, I know what is beneath. “Mom will be happy you’re getting out of the house.” 

He grabs my hand tightly, and the callouses there rub at my skin, reminding me that we’re not out of this hell hole yet. His hands never do soften, no matter how long he lives in Montfort. 

“Don’t tell your mother,” he whispers to me. I purse my lips in response, knowing that given today, she could use even the resemblance of hope. “But—“

“I know it seems like nothing, but it’s enough of something. She’ll think it’s a step on a big journey, you see? First I leave the house at night, then during the day, then I’m rolling around the market with her like it’s twenty years ago. Then things go back to the way they were.” His eyes darken as he recounts what I know will come to pass. He fights to keep his emotions at bay, his voice only wavering slight at the end. “I’m not getting better, Mare. I’m never going to feel better. I can’t let her hope for that, not when I know it’ll never happen. Do you understand?”

I nod, understanding absolutely what that means. Hope comes in small flares to my family, only to be snuffed out. My brothers return from war, but not Shade. Then Shade returns, only to be lost again. They lose Shade, but they gain Clara. They lose me, but my father gains his legs and lungs back. They say goodbye to me on a tarmac when I fly back to Norta to save a country that has never bothered with me, but gain their safety. They almost lose me in Norta when I go the second time. I return to them though, dragging a heartbroken prince behind me. I wish I could tell Dad what is coming, that the future will be better, even if we lose parts of ourselves along the way. He rolls inside though, leaving me on the porch while a weak river breeze cuts through my hair. 

 ((((/////////))))

I’m already awake when the officers kick down our door. I couldn’t sleep, planning every second of tomorrow down to the second. I don’t care that my plan may not survive the first few moments. I will make sure that nothing goes completely off kilter. 

I wake Gisa slowly, and help her out of her cot then down the ladder. She accepts my help at first, and leans on her good arm for support as she goes. Mom waits for us on the floor, and opens her arms to Gisa before engulfing her in a hug. She keeps her eyes on my though. I know why. They’ve come for me, and whatever motherly instinct she possess has told her so. 

Two officers wait by the door, with Walsh between them. My chest tightens at the sight of her. In almost a month, she will be foaming at the mouth on the floor a chamber. Does she feel her clock ticking down like I do?

“We submit to search and seizure,” Dad grumbles, but the officers don’t move. Walsh raises a clean brow at my father’s words though. Stepping forward she brings her eyes to me. “Miss Barrow, you have bee summoned to Summerton.”

I expel the breath I’m holding. I had worried that Cal had given Walsh different orders, maybe to take me another way, but apparently he understood that today has to occur. Gisa’s good hand closes around mine, and I hear for the first time her whisper, “no.” 

“You have been summoned to Summerton,” Walsh repeats when I stay rooted to the spot, shocked by Gisa’s words. “We will escort you. Please proceed.” 

She gives me a smile as I step forward, but Gisa doesn’t let go of my hand. Seeing this Walsh dips her head to my parents. “Don’t worry, everything’s settled after yesterday. The Hall and the market are well controlled now.  Please proceed.”

This is a summons from the crown prince, even if Walsh doesn’t know that, she has to follow her orders. We can’t arrive too early though. I have to get there just in time, so that everything lines up. Turning back to Gisa, I untangle my hand from hers. She leaps forward, making a move to grab me, but Mom holds her back. I give her a little smile in response, hoping to calm her nerves. “I’ll see you soon.” 

Dad’s hand brushes my arm, his own form of goodbye, while Mom’s eyes swim with tears. One of the officers grabs my arm and pulls me toward the door. I look back at the three of them though. The world changes from here too. When they see me again, I won’t be the same. Cal will be with me this time though. We’ll have to come up with something far more convincing than him being from Harbor Bay when we see my family again. We’ll be prepared for that encounter at least.  

The door slams in my face, and I turn forward to watch Walsh descend our ladder. One of the officers pushes me toward it and I follow her to the ground. I’m hustled through the village then, and I know why. Queenstrial awaits, and Walsh does not want to be late. 

I focus on my hands the entire ride in the transport, counting the seconds until I’m trapped in gilded cage with Elara. While Montfort tried to teach us ways to combat whispers, the methods aren’t perfect. Elara was a master of her craft too, I don’t know how much my techniques will help me. My secrets have to remain my own though. She can’t know what is to come. 

We stop at the gate, and after we are let through, I feel Walsh’s eyes on me. She gives me a soft smile. “I’m Ann, by the way, but we mostly go by last names. Call me Walsh.” 

I know. I know more about her than she could ever imagine. She raises a brow at my continued silence. I snap my head when I realize she’s waiting for me to respond. Her name is supposed to ring a bell. Grimacing, I say, “You’re from the Stilts.” 

“I am. I knew your brother Tramy, and I wish I didn’t know Bree. A real heartbreaker that one.” She teases, and I can’t help the smile that those words conjure. A heartbreaker indeed. He had half of the Montfort women eating out of the palm of his hand after living there for only two months. She tilts her head to the side at my expression and muses, “I don’t know you though. But I certainly will.” 

Yes, yes you will. You’ll probably regret it too. 

She waits for another response before raising a brow. “Not the talking type I see. Well, you should know you’ll be working long hours here. I don’t know who hired you or what they told you about the job, but it starts to wear on you. It’s not all changing bedsheets and cleaning plates. You have to look without seeing, hear without listening. We’re objects up there, living statues meant to serve.”

Not for much longer. 

She sighs before opening the door of the transport and helping me out. After wrenching open a door from the wall, she begins to lead me down a flight of stairs. I follow quickly. Queenstrial awaits. Cal is waiting. He told me once that today was both the worst and best day of his life. Worst because he knew it was the day he would never escape Evangeline again, and the best because I managed to ruin everything about Evangeline’s big day. I had pushed a pillow into his face in response, and he’d laughed himself hoarse about it. 

Walsh hurries down the stairs, looking over her shoulder to shout, “Keep up, I don’t have time to hold your hand!” Scrambling to catch her, I descend into a dark tunnel that runs underneath the market and into the Hall of the Sun. She waits for only a moment before saying, “You serve the king now, there’s no time for dilly dallying.” 

 ((((/////////))))

I hurry along a hall of the Spiral Garden, keeping my eyes on the red servant in front of me. He’s much older than me, and I can see it in the way his shoulders slump as he walks. Queenstrial is set to begin, and a bead of sweat runs down my neck when I being to wonder if I’m in the right place. What if I’m not in the right place in line? How long was I in the Samos box for? What if I’m not the servant that goes up to the box I fell out of? Can I stage a fall from the servant’s box? I doubt it. 

By the time I get to the elevated platform the other servants are standing on, I bump my way into line, hoping that I’m in the right place. As I do so, the High Houses enter. I strain to catch sight of them, memories of sitting with Lady Blonos and memorizing their colors bubbling to the surface. Dark blue and red, House Iral. Blue and green, House Osanos. Green and Gold, House Welle. Green and Black, House Viper. Gold and Black, House Provos. I can recall them all from memory. In another year, many of them will be dead. 

I look them all over, and manage to spot Ara Iral, looking beyond bored in her box. But she’s also spying, I know that, cataloging everything away for later. In my distraction, I almost miss my call to the Samos box. I leap to attention, hurrying but trying to make it look like I’m not. I dance between bodies, lighter on my feet than I was even when I was this age. 

I enter the Samos box silently, shifting the curtain aside. From behind, I can see every muscle Ptolemus tries to hide in his fancy shirt. Like Cal, he’s never been able to hide the fact that he would rather be a warrior. My stomach still curls at the sight of him. To think in a few months he will be the reason Clara doesn’t have a father. The sight of Volo makes me queasy. Evangeline told me what fate befell her father in Archeon during the Lakelanders attack, and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to look him in the eye without picturing his face flattened against the deck of a ship. 

I draw my tongue along my lip before saying, “Sir?” He doesn’t even notice me, and a part of me almost laughs. What I wouldn’t give for him to ignore me like this in a few months. Soon, he won’t be able to. He holds out the empty water glass to me, a bored look on his face. “They’re toying with us, Ptolemus.” 

Taking the glass from him, I wait for Ptolemus to finish his. His eyes dance to me in confusion for a moment over his rim before he offers me the glass. I stifle the shake in my hand as I take it, panic coursing through me as he continues to watch my hands. “A demonstration of power, Father.” He says nonetheless as I hurry away to hide my face from him. “They make us wait because they can.” 

I want to spit in his face, or at least make a face in his direction like a child. To think Cal still respects you when you talk about him like a dog you can’t get to heel. Then again, Cal never did hesitate to throw a quip about Ptolemus out. 

I fill their glasses at the sink when the tone sounds, announcing the royal family. I close my eyes and expel a slow exhale. From where I hide in the flowers, I can see the High Houses all rise to their feet. Ptolemus whispers something to Volo, and I wish I was close enough to know what it was. Peeking out from the flowers, I watch as Cal’s father steps onto the balcony. My skin prickles at the sight of him. I can’t begin to imagine what Cal felt the first time he saw him. I know the first time I see Shade I’ll clutch him a hug like never before. I couldn’t imagine Cal doing that with his father, but I’m sure even being near him is making his heart ache. This is a torture neither of us could ever prepare for. Perhaps that’s the dark side of Giselle ability. You could see your happiest moments and the people you haven’t seen in years, only to remember that this has already occurred and you are simply reliving pain. 

From behind him, Elara floats out. I have to clutch the sink to keep from ducking out of sight. She doesn’t know I’m here, she doesn’t even know I exist yet. My plan is going to fail within seconds of seeing her, I know it. My weak little defenses will not withstand her ability. She’ll see everything. She’ll kill Cal, and hang his body up for everyone to see. Weak like his mother, she’ll say. He was sympathetic to the reds, he had to be removed. And it will be my fault. 

“Death to the Scarlet Guard!” rings out from several of the boxes, jarring me from thoughts. I dare a glance to see who is yelling. Haven is the only house I have time to catch before the King shouts back at them. 

“The Scarlet Guard—and all our enemies—are being dealt with!” The crowd silences immediately and my lips curl up in a smile at that. I don’t miss this man, not in the slightest. 

“—today we honor tradition, and no Red devil will impede that. Now is the rite of Queenstrial, to bring forth the most talented daughter to wed the most eligible son.” He continues in his speech, and I crane my neck down the stairs to check on Volo. He hasn’t moved, although he does lean over to whisper something else to Ptolemus. I grip the glass tightly in my hand as I turn the sink on again to hide my breathing. I might be sick right here in this room. If I see him, if I look into those blue eyes will I be able to avoid falling apart?

“Both of my sons honor our most solemn custom,” he waves them forward, and I dare a glance at the back of their heads. Cal’s on the other side of his father. He can’t see me, unless her turns his shoulders and cranes his neck slightly. I squeeze my hand into a fist though as Maven slowly turns, raising his hand in a greeting I know has been perfected by his mother. I slowly set the glasses down and grab the edge of the sink. 

He’s so young, so… clear eyed. He’s not haunted by his demons yet. They’re still alive and standing next to him though. And in that moment, as I look at him, I begin to regret everything. I should have just told Cal that we could do this alone. That we could get to Montfort on our own. We would be at the Rift by now if we had left last night. I should have ignored Jon, I should have said to hell with his meddling, and run. I can’t face Maven again. 

Cal is announced. He turns slowly, smiling and waving politely. When he turns to the Samos box, I can see his eyes searching. When he pauses, and makes eye contact with me, I raise my hand in a small wave. His hand barely twitches. It could be a wave to the Samos family and the others Houses will never know it was for me. He turns forward once more, and I turn the sink off. 

I told him I could do this, I told him that we were in this together. I can’t leave him now. 

In a daze, I leave Volo and Ptolemus their glasses. Even as I climb the stairs, I can’t forget the brief flash of Maven’s eyes. I won’t be able to escape them after this. Inhaling slowly but surely, I return to the servants’ platform. I feel like I can’t breathe. In an hour, I will let myself fall off a platform and into a force field and then, I’ll let myself be betrothed to the man who tried to kill me numerous times. Is this what Cal felt? In the first moment that he had run into Maven, had he felt this rush of emotions? Had his chest felt like it was going to cave in, and his legs were going to fall out from underneath him? 

His father is still shouting, completing the announcement of Queenstrial. I dare another look at him. He’s still smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. As every house claims their right to Queenstrial, his smile wavers a little more until it falls so low that he has to brings his lips back up. Just a little longer, I want to tell him.

When his father turns to Lord Provos to order the arena created, Cal’s eyes dance up to the servants’ box, and catch mine. His shoulders rise and fall in what must be a slow, deliberate exhale. He’s searching for control, or maybe a reprieve. He won’t get one until we find Giselle though. 

Underneath my feet, the platform lurches, and moves. That’s the last look I’ll get until he finds me in that hallway. The hum of electricity underneath my feet tells me the shield has activated, and the fight has only begun. The floor opens and Rohr appears a moment later. She’s even tinier than I remember. She bats her doe like eyes at Cal, and smiles. She’s little more than a child. So was I though. I’m older now though, and I have the wisdom to back it up.

((((/////////))))

It feels like it has been hours. My eyes burn, and my skin crawls until I feel like I’m going to explode like a live wire. Any longer and I might just throw myself over the railing and into the shield to kick start this whole thing. Evangeline was last, but as the parade continues, I softly set my hand on the railing, prepared to throw myself over. 

The minute I think I might actually do that though, the platform at the bottom rises once more, and the sun catches the highlights of platinum blonde hair. My heart beats erratically and a bead of sweat rolls down the back of my neck. Her eyes dart up and around, but her expression is cold. Years ago, I thought that the light in her eyes was malicious. Now I know better. I know that she’s just as disgusted, and irritated with this whole process as everyone else is. Unlike the other girls, she is not seeking out Cal, she is seeking out the crown Elara is wearing. She’s seeking the safety of being queen, where no one will question Elane curling up by her side, and her father won’t be able to order her to do anything. She looks nothing like the woman I remember grabbing coffee with just a few days before I was chasing Giselle down a backstreet. 

I wish she was that woman. That would make things so much easier. 

Her father calls her name and her ability, and a moment later, I’m summoned to a box. My heart hammers in my chest as I pace down thin hallways to answer the call. Once I step into that box, my fate is sealed. I’m going to have to find something deep within myself. Jon had warned me though, had told me to find the strength to get through this. I have to have some faith. Not in him of course, but in myself. I learned that hard lesson at Corros. 

As I gather plates and glasses, I keep my eyes on Evangeline on the screen. She prowls around, searching for something to work with. With a flick of her wrists, and iron studs on her jacket start to move. I can’t help but roll my eyes at the theatrics. And she claims that I’m dramatic. She sets to work destroying the arena while I make my way slowly but surely toward the biggest open space in the box I can find. If she doesn’t tilt the arena, then all of this is for nothing. 

Evangeline never disappoints though. 

The floor shifts underneath me, and I squeeze my hand into a fist at my side. Even though I know I’m going to be just fine in the next few seconds, it doesn’t mean I want to fall thirty feet into a force field. The box tips, and I force an exhale through my teeth. A body slams into me, and I let myself fall. 

It’s a much shorter fall than I remember, so I hit the shield a lot harder than I want. Sparks fly across my skin, and I close my eyes. I feel like a battery getting recharged, and every volt of electricity that burns through me makes me feel whole. The shield wavers underneath me, and I only have a second to push to my knees and spit a curse before it fails completely. I fall the last twenty feet and curl up into a ball as I hit a pile of dust and sand. The blow doesn’t quiet knock the wind out of me, but it still leaves me stunned for a moment. 

Shaking myself out as I try to climb to my feet, I glance up at Evangeline. I’d forgotten the look she’d given me the first time she saw me. The mix of terror, horror, and fear is startling. She never looks at me like that again, not even in the Bowl of Bones when I create a storm from nothing. Above us, the rest of the High Houses gasp and murmur. 

I swallow as I glance around and then back at Evangeline who takes a tiny step back. I don’t have time to say anything this time, because she throws a hail of metal shards at me. I gasp and throw up a net of lightning to catch them. The shards shriek and burst apart a few feet away from me. I release the net and it explodes out, hitting the far wall behind Evangeline. She throws herself to the side to avoid being hit by any stray bolts. 

I hadn’t been that close to hitting her the first time. I grimace, as she whips her head around to look at the hole in the wall before turning her eyes back to me. I would stamp my foot at my stupidity, if Cal’s father didn’t shout for the Sentinels. They bleed out of the shadows in the boxes, and I lick my lips for a moment, tasting the ozone from the shield on my skin. I dare a glance up at Cal who is trying his best to seem surprised by me. Drawing my lips in a tight line, I sprint for the hole in the floor. Just as gun fire explodes behind me, I drop into a slide and go feet first down the hole. 

As soon as I hit the ground of the antechamber below, I start into a dead sprint. The cameras follow me, and every one I pass, I destroy. They explode like fireworks around me and rain sparks into the semidarkness. 

I make it to the mirrored hall and pause for a second to take heaving breaths. My chest burns and my legs already ache. I dont have much time, but I need to start thinking of a plan—gun fire explodes over my head and I drop to a knee and cover my head as pits of the wall cut across my neck. 

Two Sentinels come charging toward me. With a smirk, I charge them. They try to bring their guns up in time, but I drop to my knees and slide between the two of them and throw two well placed bolts of electricity into their hips as I go by. They collapse with a clang of metal, and I scramble to my feet, sprinting once more. At least the hallways are familiar enough to me that I don’t have to stop to think about where I’m going. I only hope that Cal’s memory is as good as mine.

I end up in a hallway, panting and a worried that I’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere. How far away is Cal? Had it been a mistake to knock out the cameras on my way here? Maybe that was how he’d found me last time. 

Footsteps sound from the hall that connects to the one I’m in and spin into a defensive stance, lightning dancing in my hands. Cal comes around the corner though, his entire uniform askew. He catches himself on the wall and I drop my hands immediately. He approaches quickly and his bracelet sparks before a wall of fire encircles us, successfully obscures us from view. 

He reached out for me, and I grab his arm panting, “Don’t have much time, the Sentinels.”

He nods his eyes scanning over my charred uniform. “Elara—”

“I can do this, just don’t knock me out.” I growl as I meet his eyes. There isn’t time for him to play hero or savior right now. He shakes his head quickly and says, “We’ll think of something else.”

“No time. And if you try to dissuade her, she’ll know something is wrong. Let me face her, trust me.” 

He looks like he wants to argue more, but the sound of Sentinels shouting on the other side of the fire makes him whip his head around. I grab his cheek and force his eyes back to me. “Everything will be fine,” I assure him with a little smile. He looks even more uncertain, but his jaw tightens in understanding. I let my legs go limp, forcing him to catch me. Cradling me close to his chest he slowly lowers the wall of fire, whispering, “Be brave. I’ll see you soon.”

I let myself hold onto the image of his face for a second longer than I should, but if I do mess up with Elara, I want to at least remember those as his last words. 

[revengeoftheantichrist]

What Kind of Man

Warnings: Period Typical Sexism, Obsession, drug use

AO3  <<<Previous

Chapter 3: Hook, Line and Sinker

Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men had a reputation. It was arguably one of the best boys’ schools in Europe. Producing politicians, poets and playwrights. One could rub shoulders with royals and nobility, all in the same classroom. The boys of Hawthorne also had a reputation. They were known for their intellect and excellent sportsmanship. Yet Hawthorne was mostly famous for the libertine lifestyle their boys lived. Michael Langdon was their poster boy. There was no other man in the world that emulated the libertine life more than he did. Almost every girl in the local village had a story. Hawthorne’s Grand Tour, like its education, was legendary. There was no better way to pursue life’s pleasures than travelling through Europe’s cultural epicentres, all in the guise of the well-rounded education that every respectable young man should have. The boys spent their years at the school looking forward to it, each new year wanting it to be bigger and better than those that came before them. The school’s unofficial motto was ‘work hard, play hard’; and god did those boys play. The expectations for this year were high as Michael Langdon was head boy. He had a reputation, in order to maintain it, he would have to deliver the most grand and exciting tour of all. And deliver he did. Nights in Paris were spent reclined in opium dens. The drug filled haze encouraging rambunctious behaviour. Michael wouldn’t remember the names of the men and women that spent the night in his arms. The days were spent hungover, shopping or in museums. Michael liked to show off his amazing French, wooing the natives of the city. Geneva was spent indulging in chocolate, fondue and absinthe. Some nights Michael had to be carried back to the lodgings, having indulged far too much in the ‘green fairy’ to even keep himself up. He took a liking to the opera singers in Florence, the wine flowed free and so did Michael’s morals. Not a care in the world for what others thought of him, he was here to indulge and indulge he did. Venice was known as the crown jewel of the tour; this was the city that all gentlemen boasted about in conversation. This was going to be the best city and Michael had to impress. //// Michaels roommate in Venice was Gabriel Y/LN, a boy he’d known since they started at Hawthorne, yet knew nothing about outside the school walls; he didn’t care to. As they both started to unpack for the week, Michael noticed a picture frame on Gabriel’s desk. “What’s that on your desk?” asked Michael. “Hmm? Oh this?” Gabriel replied, picking up the picture frame. “It’s a picture of my dear little sister, Y/N.” “why do you carry around a picture of your sister?” Michael laughed; the boys rarely spoke of female relatives. “I bring it with me to remind me to actually do some work, I think she’d be much better suited to a full-time education than me, clever girl really,” laughed Gabriel. Its was even rarer for the boys to speak highly of their female relatives. Michael took the picture and studied the girl. Images of people smiling were rare, so he was surprised to see her soft lips turned up in a smile. Her hair was styled perfectly around her face, adding to the softness of the image. She was different from the girls that he spent his nights with. The image instilled a hunger in him that he could not explain, for now he would be insatiable. She was not as easily obtainable as the women before. The people around Michael would fall at his feet if they had to, but the girl in the picture seemed like a different story, a challenge of sorts. He couldn’t simply walk up to her and whisk her away, he’d have to work for it, pull every possible string he could to even look at her in person. Michael loved a challenge, there was nothing in the world he couldn’t have; as unattainable this girl would seem, he would have her, whether she liked it or not. “I’m sure your sisters spoken for, there must be plenty of suitors in that village of yours,” Michael said, handing the frame back to Gabriel. “you’d think so,” sighed Gabriel. “My father is a picky man and wont just marry her off to anyone. He wants a secure future for her, he thinks the boys in the village can’t provide for her. I agree with him, she’s my only sister and I want her to be well. But she doesn’t help herself either,” explained Gabriel. “what do you mean by that?” “well, a lot of the potential matches think she too well read. She can do all the tasks expected of a young lady. Like her embroidery, its quite well known in the local area. It could rival the artwork in these museums, it’s so complex and beautiful. But she has quite the sharp tongue and well, I guess gentlemen do not want any arguments in the home, or a wife with more common sense than them,” Gabriel finished. “Oh, I’m sure she’ll find someone,” said Michael. This was perfect. A girl that was unspoken for was easier to get a hold of than one that was spoken for. Michael knew exactly what strings he had to pull; use the friendship he had with Gabriel, build a rapport with her father and come across as the perfect match. It would be a long game but one he was willing to play. For the rest of the trip, he looked for women with the same hair colour, or similar features. If he was intoxicated enough, their faces would blur, and he could imagine her in their place. Too busy in all the exciting activities, Gabriel did not notice that the picture of his sister had gone missing. This was a craving like no other, he would do anything he could to satiate himself, even if it was temporary. //// The boys’ return to Hawthorne was a grand affair. It was a party hosted by alumni, to welcome the boys into their ranks. A chance to boast about their trip and secure jobs and positions in the upper echelons of society. Michael didn’t need to worry about job security, he had been a count since he was 16. His father, Count Lucien Langdon, had died before he was born. His uncle Nathaniel ‘Tate’ Langdon had taken over the estate, until his untimely death when Michael was 16, leaving him with everything. Michael did not undermine the importance of the event. As all past Alumni were invited, Gabriel and Y/Ns father would also be there. This was Michaels chance to make an impression and show him that he was better than every other motherfucker in the room. As the boys were being welcomed back by their fathers and uncles, Michael stood in the background for he had no one here to greet him, to welcome him home. Before he could spend too long wallowing, Gabriel called him over. “Father, may I introduce you to Count Michael Langdon, head boy and my dormmate for the past few years,” said Gabriel. Michael extended his hand for a firm handshake, “Pleasure to finally meet you sir, I am Count Michael Langdon, but for tonight I am a close friend of your son.” Michael made eye contact with him and knew he had him. The rest of the evening would be spent drinking, sharing stories and discussing current affairs with Gabriel’s father. “so, Michael,” started Mr. Y/LN, “any siblings?” Michael put his drink down and replied, “no, unfortunately I am an only child. My father passed just before my birth, and my uncle died childless. I am aware that Gabriel has a younger sister.” “ah, so you’ve heard of my Y/N. Yes, she’s not much younger than you, she’s reached a marriable age now and maybe I can find a suitable gentleman tonight. But I won’t bore you with such trivialities, I’m sure you’ve been betrothed since birth.” Michael smiled. ‘Perfect’, he thought to himself. “a common misconception actually, unfortunately I lost my parents before any such arrangement could be made. These days many are not willing to tie their daughters to a young man without a proper guardian,” explained Michael. Mr. Y/LNs eyes widened in shock and curiosity and Michaels grin grew.

Hook, line and sinker. //// This was easier than Michael thought. I didn’t take many more meetings for Gabriel’s father to suggest Michael and Y/Ns union. Michael would be the knight in shining armour that would ensure a secure future for the young lady. Her brother was overjoyed that a man that he considered a dear friend would marry his sister. The union also opened up business opportunities for the Y/LN family, with the Langdon name backing them up in any future venture, they’d be mad to refuse. He hadn’t met her yet. She was always busy with some other engagement when he was in the area. She never really left the village. He had met her friend in London, making sure to leave a good enough impression that would get back to her. He had caught one glimpse of her, six moths before the wedding; Michael had gone to hand deliver the white fabric for the wedding dress. She had passed by him in the village square, chatting away with some friends, not even sparing him a glance. He inhaled as she walked past; she smelled of honey and jasmine, sweet and intoxicating. That one look was all it took for the fire to ignite in Michaels belly. He thought of her that night, as he used his hands to satisfy himself, wishing they were hers. //// The weather was perfect on the day of his wedding. Storms and clouds were what Michael enjoyed. He did not enjoy churches, but it was a small concession to make in the grand scheme of things. He watched as the doors opened, he felt the hesitation from the veiled figure that was drifting towards him. She still hadn’t looked at him when she reached the alter; did she not know that men and women would kill to even get a glimpse of him? He lifted her veil, her eyes finally drifting up to his. He heard her breath hitch and watched her eyes widen. That was the reaction he was hoping for. He finally took her in, her face illuminated by a sliver of sunlight that had broken through the clouds. The picture he had stolen did her no justice, no camera or artist could capture when he saw. He was just as captivated as she was with him, albeit with a little more control. Her hands were soft and warm as he removed her glove to place the ring; he had dreamed of these hands for 18 months, resisting the urge to kiss her palms and fingertips in front of the whole village. The ceremony ended with a customary kiss; the feel of her soft lips sparked thoughts that would make the angels in the stained glass turn away in disgust.

Finally

He had her and he was not going to let go.

Next>>>

[thecleverdame]

Gods of Twilight - 3

Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Human!Reader

Master List (posting schedule is there as well)

Summary: You marry Sam, The King of Lebanon, as part of an alliance between two lands. You soon discover that nothing is as it appears and that your husband is hiding a secret that may end your relationship before it can begin.

Warnings: smut, dub-con, canon-level violence, domestic discipline, spanking

Beta:  ilikaicalie

*Chapters 1-23 are currently available on Patreon. This story will be completed on Patreon before it’s continued on Tumblr. To get access to this and many other stories, subscribe for a pledge of 2.50 per month. CLICK HERE

-

You brought a trusted handmaiden from home, Golda. She has been with you since you were twelve when she started in service. Despite the glaring difference in your stations, the two of you have grown up together and you depend on her honesty.

Having been raised as a princess and now with this new title of Queen, people have always told you what they think you want to hear. You rarely get the whole truth, save for your nightly discourse with Golda.

She’s brushing your hair, softly running the comb through your long locks as the two of you watch the rain fall through the tall, narrow window of your chamber.

You'll be on your own tonight, you’re sure of it. Sam is nothing if not predictable. If he’s not in your room by sundown, he won't come to bed until early morning, and oftentimes never comes back at all.

“How was your day m’lady,” Golda inquires, soothing your hair back.

“Uneventful.” You sigh. “I’m struggling to find my place here. I’m going out of my mind with boredom.”

“You’re not one to stay cooped up inside the castle walls. Perhaps a trip into the village would do you well? I can speak to Phillip if you wish.”

“I would like that very much.” You smile, feeling her separate your hair into portions, preparing to braid it for the evening. “Tell me some gossip. Tell me what the servants say about the King.”

She’s quiet for a moment, then clearing her throat and lowering her voice as if someone might be listening just outside the door. “They are afraid of him.”

“Why?” you inquire, watching the fire lick upward.

While Sam is intimidating you’ve never felt scared of him. His moods are often unreadable, but he’s also even-keeled.

“It’s all wild speculation and whispered stories.” She tries to move past your inquiry.

“Tell me.” Reaching back you grab her wrist gently.

“Well, they say that the king and his brother have made a pact with the devil himself. The cook said they make sacrifices to the spirits in the forest as payment for protection for the people in the village. No one here is scared to venture out into the forest because they’re always protected. The wolves guard the borders of the land and ensure safe passage to any man or woman of Lebanon.”

“It sounds to me like the cook has imbibed too much wine.” You can’t help but grin.

“They say that your husband can talk to spirits and animals. There’s a story about him after he returned from his years away. A young girl, just four, went missing. She was gone for several nights in the dead of winter. It was assumed that she had frozen to death during the night, but the King insisted on taking out a final search party. They came upon a clearing where a giant, grey wolf, the size of a pony, sat. Curled up in his fur was the girl, unharmed and sleeping peacefully. The King collected the girl from the wolf and then - well - they say he spoke to the beast. I’ve no idea what was supposedly said but he spoke as if the creature could understand him.”

“Who are these people that they believe such things?” You shake your head, truly amused at the idea of Sam being such a legend in his own kingdom.

“People love to talk.”

“I am confused. You said people are afraid of him. Why? When he’s making pacts with animals for protection and rescuing children, why would they be frightened?”

“There are other tales...I am not sure you want to hear them.” She pauses, letting go your hair. “And I am not sure I want to be the one to tell you.”

“Well, if they are as outlandish as the ones you just shared I can only imagine he must be a evil tyrant, eating children and killing without discretion.” Clasping your hands on your lap you wait for her to continue.

Golda laughs, patting your shoulders and coming to sit next to you on the bed. “That’s not too far off.”

Her expression falls and you lean in close, nudging her shoulder with your own. “What is this face you are making?”

“They ask strange questions, m’lady. I worry there’s a reason for it.”

“What kind of questions.”

“I do not-” She pauses, her cheeks flushing pink. “I do not want you to be upset.”

“I will not be upset, I promise.”

“They are always concerned about your well being. I think your morning maid, the one that comes to stoke the fire before the sun is up, tells the others when the King has stayed the night with you. They inquire of your state and I get the feeling they are asking if he has hurt you in any way. Last week, after he spent the night here, you were feeling poorly and chose to stay in your chambers for the day...there was speculation that he had committed some depraved action upon you.”

You’re shocked. It’s not that you’re naive, you know full well the staff gossip and talk about everything. But the idea that there is speculation about the details of your marriage bed feels like an intrusion. If Sam is anything, he’s almost uninterested in copulating with you.

“That is absolutely ridiculous.” You bristle. “I hope you tell them that I am perfectly fine.”

“I do, m'lady.” She nods. “There is more if you would like to hear it.”

“I am no longer sure…” you sigh, turning around to face her. “I do not mean to hold you accountable for the gossip of others. I am not cross with you, tell me.”

“Men and women go missing. Some people say the King and his brother offer sacrifices…”

“Sacrifices?” You turn to look at her in disbelief. “They think my husband is sacrificing villagers?”

“Yes, and-”

“This is too much.” You stop her, placing a hand on her leg. “I won’t hear any more. Samuel has been nothing but kind to me. I will return that kindness by refusing to hear this sort of outrageous gossip.”

“Of course.” Golda bows her head, getting up to leave for the evening.

“But Golda,” you stop her, grabbing her hands as she turns back. “You will tell me if you hear anything that sounds like it could be true. If you ever hear them talk of him…with other women.”

“I shall keep my ear to the ground, my Queen,” she promises.

[holisticwolf95]

Our Future: Chapter 3

 Misery Loves Company

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22006699/chapters/52515199

    The young reindeer and water spirit led the women through the woods with ease. Elsa remained silent during their trip back to the Northuldran camp. In the beginning, Honeymaren had succeeded in calming the fifth spirit. But now, Elsa’s fears for her mother’s safety were growing.

   The village was still awake and buzzing with more activity than it should have been this late at night. Most stood curiously in front of the healer’s tent whispering to one another. Their voices quieted as Elsa dismounted her water horse and made her way hastily through the crowd. She refused to acknowledge those around her until a tiny hand grasped at her pant leg causing her to pause. Her eyes darted from the ten to the small girl staring up at her, wide eyed.

   “Miss Elsa!” A small child around the age of five was staring up at her with deep brown and blue eyes. The little one, like the rest of the Northuldran children, had taken a great liking to Elsa.

   “Not right now Freya.” Honeymaren gently placed a hand on the child’s shoulder. She gave Elsa a look to encourage her to keep on going towards the tent. Elsa took a deep breath. And forced a small smile for the five year old.

   “I’m sorry Freya. Someone very important to me needs my attention. We can play later okay? I’ll even braid your hair if you want.” She patted the girl’s head. Elsa raised an eyebrow as tears formed in the child’s mismatched eyes, a trait that caused her to be a center a light bullying.

   “Is – is your mommy sick like mine?” She asked. Freya’s mother had been Ill long before Elsa had lifted the curse for the Northuldra. Anna herself had sent countless healers to help but nothing seemed to be working. It was all Freya’s mother could do to leave her bed.

   “Hey Freya? How about we go for a walk?” Honeymaren offered. She leaned down and whispered in the girl’s ear. “I’ll teach you how to sharpen a knife.” She noticed Freya’s tears instantly dry.

    “R-really?” Wonder filled her brown and blue eyes. Elsa bent down to whisper in Honeymaren’s ear.

    “Please, do not let the five year old play with knives Maren.” The little girl had always been attached to Honeymaren. Ever since Elsa showed up, Freya had become equally fond of Elsa as well.

   “I will give her a dull one. Now go see how your mother is doing. I will join you after I get this little one to fall asleep.” She said in a whisper so that Freya could not hear. Elsa shook her head but smiled.

   “Well then, I will see you both soon.” She poked Freya’s nose causing a snowflake to dance on the tip. Freya giggled and waved Elsa good by as the blond left. Honeymaren watched her leave.

   “Um… Honeymaren?” Freya’s voice brought Honeymaren back to earth.

   “Sorry Freya. Let’s go.” She grabbed the child’s hand and made their way through the crowd.

   “Miss Elsa is very pretty.” Freya smiled up at Honeymaren who nodded.

   “She defiantly is Freya.”

*****

   Elsa entered the tent. Ryder, Yelena and Kirk (The tribe’s healer) surrounded the pile of furs at the far end.

   “There you are! Yelena almost sent me to find you two!” Ryder whispered as he approached Elsa.

   “How is she?” Elsa asked as Ryder avoided her gaze.

   “I - I’m not sure Els. Kirk is still examining her and he hasn’t said much, but her eye.” Ryder trailed off. Elsa took a deep breath and made her way towards the older tribes’ members. Yelena turned and placed a hand on Elsa’s shoulder to stop her from moving forward.

   “She’s heavily injured. Can you handle it?” Yelena asked referring to the panic Elsa had displayed on simply seeing her mother alive. Elsa gave Yelena a stern look.

   “Yes. I’m fine.” Elsa assured her. Yelena released her shoulder.

   “Ryder. Let’s go.” Ryder stiffened as if he was caught red handed at being up to no good.

   “R-right. See you later Els.” He gave her a small wave and left with his grandmother.  Elsa watched them leave.

   “The wound is not pretty little spirit.” The old man muttered. Elsa knelt beside him

   “What wounds are?” She asked. In front of her laid her mother. Iduna’s breathing was calm and peaceful. Her bandage around her eye was discarded and replaced with a clean wash cloth. “Her eye, is that her only wound?” Elsa asked. Kirk nodded. “Show me.” She demanded. Kirk listened and revealed Iduna’s right eye or, lack thereof.

    Elsa felt her stomach turn as she dared not look away. Her mother’s eye was gone. Left behind was an eye socket and a horrid scar. That was not the worst of it.

   “A horrid case of frost bite it seems.” Kirk mumbled grabbing the supplies necessary to rewrap the wound. “It is healing. There is no sign of infection however, it does seem rather recent.” He re dressed Iduna’s eye. The former queen did not move at all.

    “Frost bite.” Elsa whispered. When Kirk finished his work, he stood.

    “I will give you some time little spirit. She has had a full dose of dream wine to help with the pain. I can assure you she will not be waking up anytime soon. I suggest you get some rest as well.” He left Elsa alone with her unconscious mother.

    “Oh Mother. What happened to you?” Elsa questioned as she tucked a strand of loose hair behind Iduna’s ear. She laid her head on her mother’s abdomen and cried.

******

   Elsa removed herself from the tent. Red and swollen eyes found Ryder waiting alone drawing stick figures in the soil. He smiled upon noticing her.

   “Hey Els! How are you feeling?” He asked smoothing the wrinkles in his pants as he stood. Elsa stared at him.

   “Ryder… have you been waiting out here this whole time?” Elsa asked holding her hands close to her chest. Ryder shrugged and gave an awkward smile.

   “Well ya. I mean Maren and Freya were here too but the kid fell asleep like, a few minutes before you came out.  I was ordered by my big sis to keep an eye out for you while she brought Freya to her tent ha ha.” He explained. He frowned at Elsa’s guilty expression. “Hey! It’s fine! We wanted to give you space you know? Maren was going to check on you when she got back.”  He rubbed the back of his neck. Elsa breathed through her nose.

   “I plan on returning to my mother’s side. I was just on my way to my tent to grab a quick… drink.” She mumbled the last part. She went crossed eyed as Ryder shoved his drinking skin in her face.  “O-oh Ryder thank you but I.” She started.

   “Meant a drink of the alcoholic variety?” he winked at her uncapping his drinking skin. “Anna says you drink when your stressed so I assume you need one.” He tilted his head back and took a large swig. “Phew! That’s some strong stuff!” He smacked his lips and dropped down onto a nearby log. He patted a space next to him signaling Elsa to join. She gave him a tired smile but obliged.  

    “Now Ryder, are you trying to get me drunk?” she joked.

    “mmmmm Nahhhh. Just don’t want you drinking alone.” He gave Elsa a sly grin. “That’s just depressing” He handed the skin to Elsa. She eyed it cautiously before grasping it with one hand. After a quick sniff, Elsa downed as much, if not more as Ryder.

   “What?” She asked noticing Ryder staring at her.

   “Slow down there killer. That’s Northuldran moon shine. It will put a grown man on his ass quicker than you can freeze the ground.” He laughed. Elsa gave him a cocky grin holding the skin to her lips.

    “Hmmm. Doubt it. I’ll have you know I’ve been drinking since I was eleven.” She leaned over and whispered. “And I didn’t need a baby sitter.”  Ryder snatched it from her hands. She gave him an insulted look.

   “Ya, that’s what I’m afraid of. I’ve seen members of our tribe loose themselves to drink. Not a pretty site Els.” He sounded serious. Elsa crossed her arms and huffed clearly annoyed.

   “Aw, Maren’s right. You do pout when you are chastised.” He poked her cheek and Elsa swatted his hand away.

    “She’s right about one thing. You are annoying.” Elsa threw back. “Hurry up and take your turn or I’m leaving. The Arendellian whine in my tent is far stronger than whatever you are feeding me anyway.” She sat up straight and held her chin high in attempts to look down on the Northuldran man. Ryder did indeed take his turn.

    “Now that’s plain rude Princess. Here I am, sharing my tribes’ delicacy with you, and you throw me insults.” He said dramatically. Elsa swatted his shoulder. The moon shine causing her to become a bit play full.

   “Hush you fool. I saw you take that from Kirk’s tent.” She accused snatching the skin from Ryder’s hands. “Though I can’t blame you. I stole just as much alcohol from the pantry then I care to admit as a girl.” She confessed.

    “Oooo you little thief. No wonder my sister is so smitten over you.” He instantly became quiet. “Oh ummm I mean….. SO! Anna told me you’re into girls. Um… Shit” He slurred awkwardly. Elsa spit out her drink.

    “That little stinker.” Elsa whispered. Both sat in awkward silence.

    “Maren’s going to kill me.” Ryder said more to himself. Elsa’s face was on fire.

    “So.” She started

    “Ya.” Ryder responded.

    “Your sister?” Elsa asked.

     “Yep.” Ryder nodded refusing to look at her.

     “Hey you two!” Honeymaren called causing the pair to straighten in horror.

    “Oh no!” Ryder whispered. Elsa shook her head.

    “Just stop talking. For everyone’s sake.” Elsa suggested as she drank more from the skin and slammed it into his chest. He let out a small oof but remained silent.

   “Uh what’s going on?” Maren asked. Elsa stood and stretched.

   “Your brother said drinking alone was unhealthy and took the liberty on obtaining, I might admit, a strong buzz with me.” She swayed a little as she stood. Honeymaren raised an eyebrow at her then looked at her brother.

   “Really Ryder? I asked you to look after her not get her lit.” She scolded. Her brother smiled and shrugged holding up the drinking skin.

   “Misery loves company.” He laughed. Honeymaren was about to say something but Elsa’s chuckles stopped her. Elsa instantly stopped when the Northuldran woman glared at her. Elsa put her hands up in defense.

    “Um there’s a little bit left if you um want some?” She said awkwardly.

    “Elsa really?” the blond gave her a shrug

   “Anyway, I’m going to go back inside to check on my mom so if you want to come?” Elsa mumbled. Ryder nudged Honeymaren forward.

    “Damsel in distress.” He whispered in his sister’s ear. Honeymaren groaned, snatched the drinking skin and pushed her brother away by his face. “Hey!”

   “You both have had enough! Go to bed Ryder.” She laughed. He gave her a big dorky smile and a salute.

    “Aye aye Captain.” Ryder turned and stumbled his way towards his tent. Honeymaren shook her head watching him leave before drinking the rest of what remained of the moon shine. She wiped her mouth and entered the tent after Elsa.

******

    “Where the North wind meets the sea.” Elsa sung quietly to her mother’s sleeping form. The words turned into a soothing hum.

    “Elsa. Staring at her won’t make her wake up any faster.” Honeymaren whispered tiredly. Elsa didn’t look at her.

   “And staring at me won’t make me leave any faster.” Elsa replied. Honeymaren scoffed. “How strange.” Elsa mumbled.

    “Your telling me.” Honeymaren took a sip from another drinking skin she discovered in the tent. “Ew. I don’t think you’re supposed to drink this.” She placed the skin back where she found it.

    “It’s like she hasn’t aged.” Elsa continued her own conversation. Honeymaren made her way over to her friend and glanced over her shoulder.

   “She’s beautiful. You two are identical.” She whispered. Elsa raised an eyebrow at her. Honeymaren looked away. “Um I mean, you have nice skin?” She threw her hands up in the air and walked away from Elsa’s smirk. “I don’t know! You Royals have like good skin regimens or something. Probably why she hasn’t aged.” She sat down with a huff and crossed her arms. “You on the other hand, look like hell.” She told Elsa.

    “How charming of you.” Elsa told her through tired eyes.

    “I do my best. Let’s go. You need to sleep.” She demanded. Elsa shook her head.

    “No, it’s fine. I feel fine.” Elsa gave her friend a weak smile.

     “No, it’s not and you don’t.” Honeymaren looped her arm around Elsa’s and forced the blond to stand. Elsa was light as a feather and her recent bout of drinking made her feel like a doll.

    “Honeymaren, I don’t want to leave her.” Elsa slurred.

    “She will be here tomorrow Princess. She needs rest and so do you. Kirk and Yelena will wake us if anything occurs.” Honeymaren reassured her. Elsa gave one last look at her mother and groaned in defeat. She was tired and her head hurt.

    “Alright Maren, you win.” She grasped onto Maren for support.

   “I know. I usually do.” She grinned and led the girl to their tents. When they arrived, the girls noticed Bruni sleeping silently with flames shining brightly over his body. Near him, two bowls of hot soup laid waiting for them.

    “Your brother really is sweet.” Elsa smiled grabbing a bowl and handing it to Honeymaren. Bruni woke and licked his eyeball chirping happily at his friend’s arrival. “Thank you, little guy, for keeping it warm.” Elsa rewarded the small lizard with a few ice flurries that he gulped eagerly before running into Ryder’s tent.

    “He’s alright.” Honeymaren smirked as she drank from her bowl. “I love that little spit fire.” She added on watching Her brother’s tent give off a light glow from the inside.

    “You love that he enjoys picking on Ryder as much as you do. Honestly you two are very much alike.” Elsa smirked through sips. Honeymaren laughed.

     “I really do though. That part just gives him brownie points. I have been practicing trying to reach my eyeball with my tongue but I haven’t had any luck.” She demonstrated making a weird face as she touched the tip of her tongue to her nose. Elsa stared at her then, laughed. A real laugh. Honeymaren smiled and joined her.

     “You and Ryder. Thank you. I don’t know how I would have handled this situation alone.” Elsa said through giggles. Honeymaren shrugged.

     “Laughing helps a lot in hard times. Ryder and I figured that out when we were little.” She explained. Elsa set her bowl aside.

    “Sounds like Anna.” A shadow of sorrow covered her face. Honeymaren nudged her with her shoulder.

     “Are you going to tell her tomorrow? With Gale or…” Honeymaren questioned. Elsa shook her head.

    “No. No this is something I have to tell her in person. Something she has to see in person.” She watched Honeymaren nod in agreement

     “Smart. That be one hell of an announcement to receive during some important council meeting.” Honeymaren took Elsa’s bowl and set it aside.

     “Exactly.” She yawned. Maren stood and extended her hand out.

    “C’mon. Let’s go to bed.” She helped Elsa stand. “How about you sleep in my tent tonight? Ryder was right, not good to be alone with something like this.” She squeezed Elsa’s hand. The blond looked at their hands then at her.

    “Okay. You two haven’t led me wrong yet.” She smiled as both girls entered Honeymaren’s tent.

    “After you Princess.” Honeymaren gave a slight bow. Elsa gave her a cocky grin.

     “Why thank you. Such a gentlewoman.” They laughed.

     “Just get in. I’m tired.” Honeymaren followed her inside and threw herself face first onto her pile of furs.

    “To tired to change?” Elsa inquired. Honeymaren peeked at her from her pillow.

     “Why? Do I smell?” She asked. Elsa rolled her eyes and removed her boots. Then, her tunic. Honeymaren felt her breathing increase at the sight. Elsa’s light thin undershirt showed off months of training with Honeymaren. Muscles were now visible on the girl’s thin abdomen and her arms well, Honeymaren was slightly impressed.  “You really are getting stronger Elsa.” Honeymaren mumbled Elsa threw her tunic to the side and slid under the furs next to Honeymaren.

    “Thanks to you.” She whispered. The girl’s stared at each other. “I’ve always prided myself on appearance you know. Not that I openly say that often. I like the muscle look.” Elsa smirked. Honeymaren slowly turned her head away and focused on and invisible point on the roof of her tent.

     “I do too.” She mumbled.

     “I know you do.” Elsa whispered. Honeymaren’s head snapped towards Elsa. “I know you take pride in your training Maren. I think even your brother is jealous. I also know you’re happy with what you just saw.” Elsa purred. Honeymaren pushed herself up onto one arm.

    “Elsa of Arendelle. How much did you actually have to drink?” Honeymaren demanded. Elsa shrugged.

    “Not as much as I use to.” Elsa admitted. Honeymaren rolled her eyes.

    “Are you flirting with me?” She asked.

    “Um. Maybe?” Elsa gave her a sheepish grin. Honeymaren sat all the way up and gave her a questioning look. “Am I doing a bad job?” Elsa seemed almost disappointed. Honeymaren fell back down and covered her eyes with her forearm.

    “Like you could ever do anything wrong.” She mumbled. She felt Elsa shift and felt her weight on her body. Honeymaren opened one eye to find the blond straddling her waist and looking at her curiously. “Oh spirits.” Honeymaren hissed. Elsa leaned down slowly until she was only inches away from Honeymaren’s ear.

    “When I was little, I use to drink to forget but I always remembered. I remember how a certain younger sibling told me your secret.” She laughed. Honeymaren shoved Elsa off of her. Elsa rolled onto her back laughing.

    “GOD DAMMMIT RYDER!” She yelled burying her face into her hands. Elsa was holding her stomach. She was laughing harder now. Elsa calmed and spread her arms out. Tears rolling down her face.  “I’m glad you are having such a grand time Elsa.” Honeymaren scowled. Elsa shrugged.

     “It feels so good not to be the awkward one for once.” Elsa was instantly smacked in the face with a pillow. “OOF!”

    “You’re still awkward.” Honeymaren pinned her arms to the ground giving Elsa an evil grin. Elsa laughed.

     “Off! I did not consent!” She laughed. Honeymaren rolled her eyes.

    “bullshit!” She replied.

    “Hey would you two shut…. It…. Woah um.” Ryder began as he poked his head through the tent. “Wow.” He smirked. Honeymaren threw herself off of Elsa.

    “Wait this isn’t what it looks like.” Honeymaren yelled. Elsa propped herself on her elbows.

   “Well it could have been.” Elsa gave Ryder a thumbs up. Ryder looked between her and his sister.

   “Would you pass out already! AND YOU!” Honeymaren yelled at Elsa before glaring at her brother.

    “Um… oh …OHHHHH. Oh no.” His sister was already hot on his trail as he tried desperately to run away from her wrath. As the two chased each other around the Northuldran camp, Elsa tucked herself in and fell asleep with an amused smile on her face. It was strange how normal this all felt.

****

So. Silliness is usually how my friends deal with trauma. We’ve had a lot lol.

We are sarcastic assholes to each other even in the most horrid times

Yes, we started drinking at eleven as well (Don’t judge.)

I’m also the nerd of the group so I might be stabbed if I keep bringing up Frozen.

Let me know if you guys are interested. Comments are necessary for my sanity.

I’m also not going to tip toe around Elsa wondering if being gay is okay. It’s legal in Arendelle (According to forest of shadows) Plus she doesn’t have to worry at providing heirs anymore so who cares? Let the woman be a normal young adult sometimes okay.

Also sorry for the late update I got hit by a drunk driver haha

[joyfulsongbird]

Livin’ It Up On Top- 3/4

y’all this is like my favorite chapter, I’m in love with writing Seph, she’s the best

***

Eurydice isn’t a shy person, but spending time with Orpheus makes her feel like it. and it terrifies her. she keeps trying to bury the warmth that pools in her chest when she sees him, pushing it down until she can’t see it anymore. but it’s like plugging a faucet with your finger, the pressure builds and something is going to leak out, she’s going to blurt something out and ruin it. she knows Orpheus feels things for her, hell, he approached her with marriage first.

she convinces herself that staying with him, for just the one night can’t hurt anything, that sleeping on his couch while the cold passes over won’t do anything. he tried to get her to sleep on the bed, but she outright refused, she is just a tourist in these parts and this is his home, he has to sleep in his own bed. she’ll leave soon, she’ll leave and Orpheus will be heartbroken, and she’ll never see him again. good. Orpheus deserves someone... someone who isn’t like her, he deserves someone besides damaged goods. when summer comes, she’ll go, she’ll travel farther south where the winters aren’t as harsh and the summers are even more intense.

the problem is, when summer does arrive, she stays.

she watches the green come back, the train roll in, and her feet stay planted. she doesn’t even know Orpheus very well, all she’s done is sleep in his small home for a night and hear him sing a... beautiful melody. and yet, here she stands, long gone and staying.

she feels separated from this crowd of people, all of the members of this town are so close, having lived with each for so long. when the train rolls and the door opens, a cheer starts as a few claps and then a women in green appears and it rises to a roar. Eurydice has heard myths about this women: Lady Persephone, the women who used to bring spring to them but now only summer, married to the king of the underworld. she’s well known in all parts of the world, but she only visits certain places personally and it seems that this town is the jackpot. she had no idea when she arrived in the rusty, small village that she’d be heading into the unknown summertime hotspot.

Eurydice watches warily from the back of the crowd, sticking by Orpheus side, but not too close, just close enough so that she can’t lose sight of him. he’s grinning, straining to see over the many heads of the crowd. they watch as Persephone throws her arms around the silver suited man, who she now knows as Mister Hermes, Orpheus’ godfather. they embrace tightly, a familiarity to the both of them, like they’ve known each other their entire lives.

“they’re siblings you know.” Orpheus says, as if sensing her thoughts

“what?” she exclaims. “that’s not possible, she’s a goddess and he’s...”

“he’s not mortal, that’s for sure.” Orpheus shrugs, as if it’s the most casual thing to be given a drink on the house by a god, or to shake his hand and be introduced like you’re the important one. “c’mon, let’s go to the bar, before the crowd gets the idea first.”

“okay.” she agrees instantly, still in awe over what she’s seeing. green, everywhere. the birds suddenly come back from wherever they had migrated for the winter. they sing, and fly about the sky. flowers bloom under her heels and she’s walking across fields of them, the rolling hills around the town are aglow with the sunshine. she can feel Orpheus watching her as they walk, his face turned to hers. she keeps her face forward, lips pursed into thin lines to keep herself from smiling.

they arrive at the bar, and Orpheus gets to work, moving quickly to set everything up before the patrons arrive and the place becomes buzzing with life, distracting and inviting. he’s the bartender tonight, though he’d been forced to promise to grace them with his music later in the night. Eurydice looks forward to it. she’s only heard him a select few times and she yearns to hear it again.

“so this is... a big part of the year?” she asks, sitting atop the bar and watching him work. “this party and Persephone coming back? everyone seems to really  be into it.”

“oh yeah,” Orpheus answers. “since we’re the place Lady Persephone spends most of her time, all the regular patrons prepare gifts even though she tells them not to and makes a big party to thank her.”

“so she’s friends with everyone? And Hermes is her brother, so you’ve gotta know her pretty well.”

“I wouldn’t say she raised me, but she... helped raise me, in the summer months.” he reaches up to grab a pitcher from a high cabinet, catching it between two fingers. the muscles under his shoulder blades become more prominent and she averts her eyes right away, unable to divulge in just looking at him. she’d get too caught up in that.

“she must be very kind.”

“she is.” he says, holding out the pitcher. “hold this please?”

“um... sure.” she gently takes it, turning it over in her hands. It’s a lovely glass pitcher, with engravings in the handle, flowers and symbols in a language she doesn’t understand. “what is it anyways?”

“Just her favorite piece that we have, mister Hermes always has be take it when she arrives so she can use it and we can set it out to be admired. A stupid tradition, I know, I’m not sure why we don’t just keep it out year round but- oh, here they come!”

Persephone is striding in front of the group, heading straight towards the two of them. she practically glows, lighting the entire place up even brighter.

“I see you’ve got my favorite piece, I promised my husband I’d bring it back this year!”

“I’ll miss it, Lady Persephone, it’s very beautiful.” Orpheus says, but he’s looking at Eurydice, still seated on top of the bar and holding the pitcher close to her stomach, to make sure she doesn’t drop something so important. she feels warmth lick at her cheeks that she tries to push down, but she can’t help that her pink cheeks easily light up. Persephone sees, her eyes flitting back and forth between the two of them, a knowing look dawning on her face.

“Ah- it is.” Persephone says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around, miss. a new face?”

“Quite new, actually.” she extends one of her hands to shake Persephone’s. “I’m Eurydice.”

“nice to meet you, Eurydice. Thanks for holding onto my vase, I’ll take it now.” Eurydice gently hands the piece over to the women who unceremoniously places it in her bag without a thought. “Let me get you a drink, you look like you could use it.”

“oh, you don’t have to-”

“it’s summertime!” she yells, loud enough for the other patrons to hear, they all cheer. “indulge in life a little! live minute to minute for once! have a drink and come dance with me!”

she loops her arm through Eurydice’s and tugs her along, Eurydice gets one glance back at Orpheus. He’s laughing, a wonderful sound that she wishes she could record to play again and again. The bubbling noise of his laughter follows her, always twinkling in her ear and reminding her that there are good things in world. right before her, she has the embodiment of summertime cheering her on. And behind her, a boy filled with hope. miracles can happen if someone who’s been broken for this long can find solace in a random town, on a random night, on a day she meant to leave.

***

An hour or two and a couple drinks later, Eurydice has realized that this town is different than any of the others she’s been to before. they sing, they dance, and they welcome a runaway with open arms. she’s different from them, deep down she knows that, but right now, she feels one with summertime.

“c’mon songbird!” persephone shouts over the crowd. “come dance with me! show off those moves.”

“songbird?” eurydice laughs. “why songbird?”

“oh don’t ask me that!” Persephone grins at her. “the feathers in your hair, your skinny little legs, that pretty singsong voice you’ve got.”

“I guess I’ve been asking for it then.” Eurydice laughs. “but I am not- you can’t!”

Persephone drags her forward, into the center of the crowd, effectively parting it with just her ethereal presence. Eurydice’s laughing without even thinking about it, this is what she’s good at, she’s always been a natural mover. she can feel the energy of the crowd, seeping into her bones and warming her entire insides until she’s moving and dancing. this is nothing like how she’s had to dance before, with men watching her every move and with her mind screaming for help. this is freeing. this is what she always hopes for when she moves on to a another town, she hopes for these brief moments where she can breath. she feels the energy seeping from the crowd into her bones.

When she sways her hips, they cheer. when she spins, her dress fans out and she feels like a bird, with tailfeathers for all to see.

she stumbles over to the bar, where Orpheus still stands, smiling and clapping at the crowd of people.

“dance with me!” she shouts of the music and noise.

“what?” his eyes widen to huge saucers.

“you know what I said!” she grabs his wrist, pulling him around the bar.

“are you drunk?” he asks as she tugs him into the crowd.

“no,” she assures. “I’m completely sane.”

she’s always had a high tolerance for alcohol and now is no exception, she’s just high on the experience, on the energy of the room. she takes both of his hands in hers, swinging them back and forth to get a feel for the way they feel in hers. his hands are large, deft from all of his playing, calloused in a way that says he is a kind musician, not a fighter. with scars on his fingertips.

she laughs at how uncomfortable he is. “loosen up! I don’t bite.”

“I don’t know how to do this!” he laughs, his cheeks bright red.

“I’ll show you.” she takes his hand again, harder so that he’s sure that she’s leading. “it’s fun, just... dance. move around, this isn’t a waltz, Orpheus. be silly.”

as if to show him, she shakes her head, fanning her hair like a lion’s mane. he twirls her under his arm in the same movement, leaving her unbalanced at the sudden change.

“yeah! exactly like that!” she shouts, bouncing on the balls of her feet. it goes on like that for awhile, Eurydice jumps and twirls and Orpheus watches her, swaying the music, copying Eurydice’s movements here and there, moving with her. after a couple minutes, he gets up the courage to do something he’s been wanting to do for awhile, ever since he saw her starting to dance.

as the music begins to slow to something less high energy, he places both hands on her hips, gently so that she could pull away when she wanted. but to his surprise, she doesn’t, instead choosing to clasp her hands at the back of his neck. drawing the two of them even closer.

she’s even prettier close up, is what he thinks.

he’s even prettier up close, is what she thinks.

she could look into his eyes forever, she can see now that they are a wonderful hazel color, green and brown and deep.

they’re one of the only people left on the dance floor, everyone else’s lack of a partner and exhaustion got the better of them and they sit at nearby tables. the songbird and the poet can’t seem to hear the rest of the world, they’re too absorbed in their closeness to pay attention to everything else. the band keeps playing and that’s all that matters, is that the music should go on forever and they never stop dancing.

“I-” the band interrupts Orpheus just as he’s about to speak, his tone was soft and she actually wanted to hear what he was going to say but they strike up a fast tune again. they break apart, as people flood the dance floor again.

Eurydice wipes sweat off of her brow, her mind is in turmoil. she never meant for this to happen, she never meant to care for him. what is she doing? why is she still holding his hand? why is she standing so close to him? this is bad, bad, bad. she’s in too deep already and everything is screaming at her to run. all of her past experiences, her instincts that she always listened to, her physical body aches to escape. but whatever it is that’s holding to this poor boy is stronger than all of that.

“let’s go home.” Eurydice suggests quietly.

“okay.”

she allows for him to lead her out of the bar, across a field of daisies and back to his home.

This isn’t going to end well, she knows that. but despite her screaming mind, her body carries herself inside. and she’s long gone before the weather can change.

[danwhobrowses]

Whatever Happened to: Sheska?

So, as promised, the first of hopefully many posts of the ‘Whatever Happened to’ series, where I bring up characters that just, fell off the map. For our first one we will begin with a character disappearance that always confused me, Sheska from Fullmetal Alchemist Manga and the Brotherhood anime There will be Spoilers for the story so if you haven’t read/watched it then...maybe you should

When was she last Seen? While in the 2003 anime series Sheska maintained a recurring role as Winry’s female friend and helping uncover the dirty secrets hidden by the Homunculi and in turn the Military. However, in the Manga and Brotherhood anime, Sheska is last seen in Chapter 34/Episode 16, both titled ‘Footsteps of a Comrade-in-Arms’. In it she is revealed to be covering for Mustang as he digs for information regarding Hughes’ death - mainly out of solidarity since Hughes did give her the job that pays her bills and keeps her mother in a nice home, and the least she can do is assist in helping find the culprit. She unfortunately lets this slip to ‘Captain Focker/Fokker’ who is Envy in disguise (but still a Focker if you ask me), which leads to the whole Maria Ross frame-up. From there we never see or hear from Sheska again, we don’t see her at Central when it’s attacked by Briggs, we don’t see her fall victim of the countrywide transmutation circle and do not we see her in the Chapter 107 splash

Which, frankly, is ridiculous given that characters dead, alive and barely in the story like Sheska was are here, including Fu, Hughes, Grumman, some no-names in the bottom and one no-name at the top right corner, Rebecca, Mustang’s old Ishval squad and Henschel. An oversight maybe, but it still leaves the question mark, what DID happen to Sheska? Theory 1: Sheska was Murdered Leaking that she knew about Mustang’s digging, covering for him and her photographic memory is two very dangerous tidbits of knowledge for one person to have, even if the Homunculi look down on humans up to this point they have been extremely efficient in not leaking their own information. So a worst case scenario could be that the Homunculi killed Sheska, quietly disposing of her and maybe even covering it up, she was on a heavy workload and could’ve ‘crumbled’ and disappeared to work in a nice undisclosed village. The fortunate thing that goes against this theory is that Mustang would notice, and since Hughes’ death she had been a lot more relaxed with her workload, it would also be in the Homunculi’s nature to only take care of things when it looks like a critical moment.  Another plausible way Sheska may’ve died is via the Mannequins or when Our Father freaking Kamehameha’d half of Central Command, but then she would have to be fighting the Mannequins and not escaped Central when the Briggs soldiers gave them a chance, and Sheska would run if she were there. She may’ve also suffocated under a mountain of books like how she almost did when we first saw her, if she ever actually gets to go home anymore. Theory 2: Sheska was Dishonorably Discharged Given that Mustang is treated with contempt for digging into the Hughes case and his actions in making people believe that he scorched Maria Ross, it would be possible that the higher ups would use this as an excuse to discharge her from the military, to sever a connection Mustang would have in Central who could provide him information on Father’s plans. Envy may’ve been a lighter hand as Focker but Focker himself or any other members of Bradley’s high council may opt to picture it as harboring criminal activity. Sheska isn’t exactly one to come crying to the Elrics about this either so it’s not like it’d be huge news, the reason this may not work however is that Sheska still has all the dots Hughes had, she just hasn’t connected them yet, and the Homunculi keep tabs on people like that.  Theory 3: Sheska was Transferred Like most of Mustang’s crew, Sheska may’ve been moved by association. Her absence from Central Command would fuel this and after she’s finished completing all the records there’s not much else she is useful for in the eyes of the military. Since she has no career goals, she could’ve simply been moved to a smaller military office - her ignorance to the happenings protecting her from being in warzones but not out of the country circle’s range. She may’ve also been transferred normally, maybe another library got burned down or maybe they rebuilt the Central Library and had her repopulate that with all the normal books and secret alchemy cookbooks and actually declutter her apartment with all the books that are there (okay it bothers me, where does she sleep? Does she have a book bed, next to her book oven and book fridge and cooks book eggs for bookfast in her book pan in her book kitchen?). Theory 4: Sheska left the Military on her own accord While she never expressed displeasure in working for the Military we leave Sheska in a pivotal moment in the plot, the next episode/chapter Mustang supposedly burns Maria Ross to a crisp. Not knowing it part of the plan, Sheska may’ve felt partly responsible in the ‘murder’ of Ross and disgusted by Mustang’s actions, which could have led her to leave the military. There are other reasons she may’ve quit her job also, she may’ve found a new calling or as said before the Library could’ve been rebuilt and she could’ve gotten her old job back from that or another closer-to-mother library/general job, she may’ve left to tend to her ill mother if her condition worsened or simply moved to a job with a career track - hell if you wanna go wild maybe she went to become an Alchemist, that photographic memory would be handy if she had the aptitude. The backdrop of this like the previous theory of her leaving the military is that this’d prevent the Homunculi from keeping tabs on her, while it is possible that Ross’ death would’ve prompted her to leave, the military may’ve offered an alternative of transfer or another government job so to keep and eye on her. Theory 5: Sheska slept through the whole thing A comical theory, but the records department isn’t something one would frequent in a lot, I mean Mustang was able to sleep in a storeroom for a bit completely undetected. It would be funny if Sheska did miss all the action from falling into a comatose sleep in a basement or something having been overworked, and given the isolated placement completely missed the Mannequin Soldiers, thought the Circle stealing her soul was a nightmare and then napped again through the whole Father fight. This is unlikely because it obviously didn’t happen, as I said Sheska’s workload doesn’t take a huge toll on her anymore so she wouldn’t pass out...not until after the Father Fight when she has to rewrite all the paperwork destroyed by Father’s Kamehameha, it’d be a good laugh though. Theory 6: Sheska was there, you just didn’t see her One of the most plausible theories is simply that it happened but there was no need to focus on Sheska while it was happening. Falman also had a great memory and worked with the Briggs men and the Armstrongs had worked in Central for months, so her talents weren’t exactly needed for the situation, she likely escaped the mannequins and left Central Command intact. It’s likely but it’s still annoying, we could have shown her in this scenario, even if it’s when Buccaneer saved those women (imaged in manga since I couldn’t find a screen of the scene in anime) they could’ve thrown in Sheska, could’ve shown her losing and regaining her soul, at least some closure on that would’ve been nice given that we saw every other player and the people of Liore during the Promised Day.

Theory 7: Sheska still works for the Military, she just wasn’t There The final theory that is as plausible as the prior, Sheska was basically away that day. We saw it with Brosh who only arrived at the scene because he was disgusted by Mustang and then elated that Ross was alive, a ‘bookworm’ like Sheska may’ve taken time off to witness an eclipse, and if she didn’t she may’ve simply had the day off. Another thing she could’ve done is gone on holiday, I doubt she went to Xing to meet the Armstrongs while they were statue hunting but maybe she went out of Central. She could’ve visited her mother, visited other family, gone to a place with other libraries and stuff she may have hobbies in. The downfall of this theory is that none of it escapes the circle, hostilities with Creta, Aurego and Drachma mean the only way out of the country is by crossing the desert, which doesn’t seem up Sheska’s alley, which means we circle back to why didn’t we show her? We showed Liore, Kanama, Resembool and Rush Valley, the latter just to specifically show Paninya - someone who had less screen time than Sheska, no offence to Paninya but if we gave time for her lying on a random floor (lucky she wasn’t fixing a roof) we could’ve just put Sheska in a room face first in a book for a second and that’d be that. So yeah, the mystery of Sheska racks my brain, mainly out of desire for closure but also because she still played a valid part in Ed and Al’s journey. Without her they would’ve never obtained Marcoh’s notes, which meant they would never have found out the properties of a stone, they would’ve never gone to the Fifth Laboratory and thus never learned about the Homunculi marking them as a sacrifice - since Ross got framed because of her, Ed would’ve never gone to Xerxes either, meaning he wouldn’t have figured out the transmutation circle or found the Ishvalan slum to discover that Scar killed the Rockbells, that discovery led to the confrontation that became a turning point for Scar’s redemption arc too. Sheska also inadvertently was necessary for Mustang’s plot also; had the brothers not gone to the Fifth Laboratory they would’ve never gotten Barry the Chopper as an ally (who in turn busted Ling out of jail, meaning everything Ling contributes to is a byproduct of Sheska’s action) but if she hadn’t have told Envy about Mustang’s digging they would’ve never framed Ross, which meant that they never would’ve had opportunity to capture Gluttony, kill Lust or discover that Bradley was Wrath. These are big things as well! Could someone just like, poke Arakawa for an answer? Or are we just gonna expect a Launch situation (save her for another day). Out of the 7 theories I would rank them as Most to Least Likely: 6, 7, 3, 4, 2, 1, 5 Most to Least Preferred: 3, 5, 7, 4, 6, 2, 1 Maybe one day we’ll find out, but for now it’s all headcanon, but whatever did happen to her, she is not forgotten.

[stella-maria7]

THE UNTAMED FAN FIC: THE TANGLE HEART

Chapter 15: THE SERIES OF DREAMS

Night 1

A four-month-old boy was sitting on a lap of a white-haired lady. A spoonful of porridge was coming towards his mouth and he opened it wide with anticipation.

“Yum yum.” granny said. “You have to eat a lot, A-yuan so you can grow up fast.” 

“Whee whee.” The baby made a sound as a reply. Despite just being this small, he was able to listen and understand every words spoken to him. Though he still had problem with talking.

Granny gave him a peck on his forehead and continued to feed him while thinking to herself. A-yuan’s growth was unprecedented to all, but for Wen Xiuying’s bloodline, it was a normal thing. Even Wen Qing and Wen Ning were growing at a fast pace, both in appearances and brain developments. Wen Ning was now towering over his sister when a few months ago he was only as tall as her waist. However, with what'd happened at Dafan mountain, he had some troubles with his mentality. As for Wen Qing, she just turned sixteen this year but she was already the prodigy. She had become the best doctor in the village. Look like Xiuying’s heritage wasn’t something to be messed with. Xiuyong, granny repeated the name with sigh, that poor soul. Just like her sister, they were both very unfortunate siblings.

“Granny.” A voice came into the room and brought her back from her thought. She looked to the new presence and saw Wen Ning walked in.

“A-Ning, has A-Qing come back yet?”

“No-no…not-not yet.” The stuttering became one of the syndrome he’d gotten from Dafan mountain that year.

“I see.” She replied with a smile.

“I-I am scared” Wen Ning said with his head lowered and his lips trembled as if he was about to cry.

“A-Ning. Come here.” Granny patted the empty chair next to hair. Wen Ning settled himself on the seat and still kept his head low. “Don’t cry. You are a big boy now. Be strong, ok?” she used her free hand to pat the boy’s head. “What are you so scared of?”

“Jie had been gone to meet master for so long, and s-she hadn’t come back yet. I-I am so scared that s-she will never…return.” The boy swallowed hard. “Just like mother.”

Granny paused her hand. Since last month, Xiuying was seen leaving the house alone. No one knew where she was going. That was the last time everyone heard of her. And her older sister, Xiurong had gone missing way before that. As a distant relative, granny willingly came to take care of the kids. Though Wen Qing and Wen Ning had already become teenagers, she still wanted to look after them. “She will return, A-Ning. Your sister loves you. She’ll never leave you.”

“Then, mother doesn’t love me? That was why she left?”

“No. Your mother didn’t leave you. And she loves you dearly. She loves you, A-Qing and even A-yuan. She loves each and everyone of you. Maybe she was too engaged in some problems that she didn’t have time to send you a message yet. If we wait a little more, we may here from her." granny knew she shouldn't lie but with Wen Ning's state, it'd only make it worst for him.

“Really?” Wen Ning asked through his tearful eyes.

“Really.” Granny put on the best smile she could for now.

“Ok.” He gave a weak smile.

Granny looked at Wen Ning with sympathetic eyes. A twelve-year-old boy’s body with a four-year-old mind. All because of that thing at Dafan mountain. She sighed. What would be another unfortunate thing to befall on this family?

Her question was answered when the door opened, revealing a young girl in red robe. “Jie!” Wen Ning leaped off the chair and ran to his sister’s side. Wen Qing patted her brother’s head which brought a big smile on his face. Then, she walked to where A-yuan was and patted his head as well before turning to look at granny.

“Granny, Wen Ning and I had to go to Cloud Recess with young master Wen Chao. Please help taking care of A-Yuan for me.”

It was time to rise so Sizhui got up and prepared for the next day. He had no idea what the dream was about but he sure had been dreaming about his cousins a lot lately.

***

Night 2:

A six-month old Wen Yuan, granny and many villagers were being forced by the Wen soldiers to move through the rocky path towards a mountain. Granny was holding him the whole way since they left home. Her hands started to shake and her lips were pale from exhaustion. Wen Yuan wanted to tell his granny to let him down but he couldn’t say the words. When he spoke, it came out as whee whee which angered the soldiers. He didn’t dare to make any noise again.

When they arrived at a designated place, everyone was forced into a hut. It was so compact that everyone couldn’t even move either an arm or a leg. Still, granny was holding him to her chest to protect him from being squeezed. Despite everything, Wen Yuan felt so comfortable within his granny’s protection that he fell asleep.

He woke up to a weird sound echoing throughout the night. His body seemed stiff from sleeping on one position far too long so he turned to another side. That was when he found it strange. How could he move his body so easily when in the afternoon he couldn’t even lift his arm? He opened his eyes to find himself alone in the dark room that was dimly illuminated by the moonlight beaming through the broken roof and windows.

“Whee whee?” he meant it as granny but the exact words didn’t come out. He was scared. Though the growing cells in him had made him more mature than those amongst his age, he was still a kid inside. Being left alone in the dark wasn’t an easy thing to cope up with. Plus, there was a strange noise outside. Despite just six-month old, his body developed into a one-year-old frame so he was able to somehow stumbled his way to the door. It was left ajar so he peeked through the gap.

The sight he saw was so frightening that he had to clamp his hand over his mouth to stop himself from screaming. All the villagers who were with him today had turned into something soulless. Their eyes were white with no pupils shown. In their hands, they were carrying weapons such as sticks, swords, and more as if they were heading to kill someone. And amongst those crowd, he saw his granny.

He was debating whether to call out to her or ran to her when suddenly his view was blocked by a giant body. He stumbled backwards, away from the door. The giant pushed the door opened and walked in threateningly. Wen Yuan kept backing away while the giant kept moving forwards until Wen Yuan was stuck at the corner of the wall. He looked up at the figure in front of him in fear. Strangely, he couldn’t see his face at all. Everything from the neck up was blurred as if there was an invisible shield to prevent him from seeing.

The giant raised his right hand and a long whip was whirling in the air. Once he felt the whip was coming down to him, Wen Yuan hid his tiny face in the crook of his arms and screamed.

Sizhui was jolted awake by the scream in his dream. He could still hear his heart beating furiously in his chest. Taking a deep breath, he put his hand on his heart to calm it down. It seemed to help. He took the back of his sleeve to wipe away the sweat on his head when he realized the sleeve itself was already wet. He needed a change of clothes.

He lay out a new set of clothes and started to take off his sweat-soaked shirt. Once his arms were free from the fabric, he saw fresh cuts on them. Not cuts that caused by sharp objects but the work of a whip. And Sizhui clearly remembered that he didn’t have these scars when he went to bed last night.

***

Night 3:

Three months had passed and Wen Yuan was now nine-month-old. He saw Wen Ning’s and granny’s eyes were swollen and red. He felt a hot liquid dropped on his hand. He looked down to see what it was when more dropped. That was why he knew it was his own tears. He was crying as well.

“I-it was my fault.” Wen Ning finally said something. “If and only if I went with jie that time, she wouldn’t end up like this. I-I will go and beg young master.” He was about to get up but granny held him down. 

“A-Ning. A-Qing wouldn’t want you to. She risked her life protecting you. Do you want to see her effort go to waste? Do you want to see her disappointment?”

“B-but…”

“I am sure she will be fine. She is the best doctor in our clan. Master still needs her to help cure his rare headache so there is no way he will kill her.”

“However, young master…”

“Young master still fears master. So if master doesn’t allow it, he won’t dare to. So all you can do now is to stay safe so that she will be happy when she comes back, ok?”

Wen Ning nodded.

“Granny, where is Wen Qing jiejie?

Both granny and Wen Ning turned to look at him with disconsolate expressions. One of them was about to say something but Wen Yuan couldn’t hear it because the image before him started to get blurry and eventually ripple into another scene.

Wen Yuan was standing inside a pungent dark room that stink his nose. There were straws under him and he felt something climbing over his feet. He shook it off.

The sound of a whip being whipped on flesh with a girl’s voice shrieked in pain Gog his attention. The voice that sounded so familiar to him. He ran towards it.

Wen Qing was sprawling on the ground with her head almost on the floor. He couldn’t tell whether she was bleeding or not giving the dark room and her red robe, but one thing he knew for sure was that she was hurt. Standing before her was the giant figure from his previous dream. He gripped the whip tightly and was about to hit Wen Qing again when Wen Yuan screamed “No!” and ran to block the whip with his back. The force made the small body dropped to his knees and everything went black.

  ***

Night 4:

A house where he lived with his cousin Wen Qing, Wen Ning, and granny was now engulfed in a huge flame. Black fumes were spewing out angrily into every direction making the air difficult to breath. He stopped and turned to look at it even when a crowd of people behind him was jolting him forwards. The sound of metals rattling accompanying the sounds of women and children crying. Wen Yuan looked down at his own arms and legs that were trapped in big chains. The weight already left a searing pain on his wrists. He titled his head to look at his granny that was in the same situation. “Granny, where are they taking us?”

His granny shook her head. “I don’t know my dear.”

He was distracted when he spoke so he forgot to move, making people bumped into him endlessly. He felt his whole body was going to have bruises all over.

Sizhui was dipping his palms into the basin of water so he could wash his face when he became alert at the red scars encircling his wrists. Just like in the dream, he thought to himself. That day, he wore his sleeves longer than usual and avoided raising his hands as much as possible.

*** 

Night 5:

Wen Ning ge, Wen Yuan called out his cousin’s name in his head. It was one rainy night. A heavy downpour. His cousin stood in the middle of the rain unaffected. He was so glad to see him. He also saw Wen Qing jie too. But she was unconscious and was supported by a tall boy with pretty face. He had never seen that big boy before but for some reasons, he felt like he could trust him.

And his instinct was right. The big boy rescued all of his people from the torturing place and killed those who had hurt them.

“You all will never undergo this dreadful experience again. I will make sure of it myself.” The big boy exclaimed before bringing them all on horses to a new place. A new home.

***

Night 6:

“A-yuan”

He heard his name being called and he ran towards the caller’s open arm. The big, tall boy with beautiful face. The elder lifted him up and pinched his cheek. “Xian gege” he laughed at the ticklish place. The big boy was none other than Wei Wuxian.

Wen Yuan was so happy to live in his new home. His cousins and granny were all living happily with him. Everyone was having a genuine smile on his or her face, and his Xian gege always had the biggest one.

Until one day…

He heard screaming and quarrelling inside so he didn’t dare to go in. He hid behind a big rock and cried silently.

“Why of all the people, you have to kill him? How am I supposed to face Shijie?” Xian gege shouted angrily making the cave shaking from sound wave.

More shouting continued and Wen Yuan was so scared that he covered his ears and cried.

The crying continued nonstop until it awoke the dreamer and made him cry too.

***

Night 7:

Everything was burning again. People in nice clothes but with scary faces were rampaging his new home. Their footsteps were stepping on the area where he planted the turnip with Xian gege. How could they treat it like that?

He was about to run out and stopped them when granny took a hold of him. “A-Yuan.”

“Granny, let me go. They are killing our turnip.” Wen Yuan was thrusting inside granny’s arm.

“Ssh…quiet A-Yuan. It’s just a plant. It’s okay.”

“But it is the one Xian gege has helped me planted it.”

Granny turned him around and made him look into her eyes. “A-Yuan, look at me.” And he did. “You love Xian gege don’t you?” he nodded. “Well, Xian gege also loves you. And love will always lead to protection. Your Xian gege loves you and wants to protect you so that you are safe and live on well. That is his wish. You’re a good boy, A-Yuan. Do you know what a good boy will do?”

“Listen to the elder.” He said weakly.

“Do you consider Xian gege as your elder?” Granny asked him to which he nodded as a response. “Then you should listen to him, alright?”

The heavy footsteps caused by groups of people were approaching where they were now. Wen Yuan could feel the ground shook under their weights. Granny must had heard it too because she hurried to pick him up and placed him inside a hollow of a big tree. “Remember. You must stay safe for your Xian gege. Don’t ever make a sound no matter what. Ok?”

Wen Yuan bit his lips and nodded. Granny put dead branches in front of the tree’s hollow until he couldn’t see things anymore.

He didn’t remember how many had passed and what had happened. He had lost track of time. All he knew was that he was so hungry. His whole body was burning as if he was on fire, shaking terribly. His eyes started seeing things. He saw the branches in front of him came alive and was reaching in to him. It creeped from his leg and up until it reached his neck. It encircled his neck, and eventually started to strangle him. He was out of air as his wind pipe was being crushed but he had no strength to fight. He just let it be.

It was five a.m. and Sizhui’s Lan clock made him awake. However, when he tried to sit up, he felt like his entire body was heavier than usual that he had to use his strength —which he didn’t really have any today— to lift himself up from the bed. Once his head was no longer in contact with the pillow, a splitting headache occurred causing him to fall back down to bed. Sizhui felt his head was spinning and his body was shivering. How he wished he could just continue to stay in bed.

Nevertheless, today an important meeting would be held and as one of the head disciples of Gusu Lan’s Sect, he had to attend. He transfused his spiritual energy to distribute it evenly to his body so that the fever could be subdued temporarily before putting his effort to get up and readied himself for the meeting. 

The meeting was called the alliance meeting in which three of the four big clans: Gusu Lan, Jiang and Jin Sect, signed a treaty to send out help to one another’s when needed. It was held once a year and the three clans took turn hosting it. This year, it was Gusu Lan's turn.

Sizhui’s seat was next to Jingyi’s, a couple of seats down from where the leader’s seats were and diagonally across from Jin Ling’s seat. When Sizhui walked into the room, Jin Ling was already there. He looked at Sizhui’s every movement. During the whole meeting, Sizhui didn’t look to Jin Ling’s direction even once in fear their eyes would meet.

As the meeting finished, people started to disperse. Sizhui took this opportunity to leave with Jingyi so he could blend with the crowd and left without Jin Ling knowing. Unfortunately, when he reached the door, a firm voice echoed behind his back. “Lan Sizhui, may I have a word with you?”

Sizhui sighed inaudibly and turned to Jingyi with the eyes that said I’ll-go-to-you-later. Jingyi glared at Jin Ling before turning on his heel and walked away.

“What was his problem?” Jin Ling mumbled to himself.

“What is it that you want to speak with me Sect Leader Jin?” Sizhui managed a weak smile despite his exhaustion.

“This isn’t the right place. Let’s go somewhere quiet.” And with that, Jin Ling led him out the hall.

Jin Ling came to Cloud Recess many times so he seemed to know his way. And of course, with Wei Wuxian as his uncle, he knew even a better place though the path that led to it was a bit difficult for Sizhui to walk given his condition. He was so relieve when Jin Ling finally stopped walking.

Turning back so he was facing Sizhui, Jin Ling opened his mouth to begin the conversation when he was distracted by something else. “Hey Sizhui, what is that mark on your neck?” He asked while lifting his fingers to touch the scar. But the more his fingers reached in, the further the scar got. It was then when Jin Ling realized it wasn’t the scar that ran away from his finger but Sizhui’s body was slowly going down. Thankfully, Jin Ling was able to catch him in time before his head hit the rock next to his feet.

“Sizhui!” Jin Ling shouted. However, Sizhui could no longer register anything surrounding him as darkness fully consumed him into unconsciousness.

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

Notes:

I knew what the baby Wen Yuan could do in this chapter might seem exaggerating. Like a baby who was less than one year old but able to walk.

However, this is a fantasy genre so I think I am going to make the impossible possible.

[bee-kathony]

McTavish & Beauchamp | Ch. 29 “Just the Beginning” 

a/n: This is the final chapter of this story. I feel so bittersweet -- this started out as a one shot, my first try at something canon related that I wished had gone a bit differently. It then evolved into my first multi-chapter fic. I wouldn’t have written more if you all didn’t ask for it, I didn’t expect people to like my writing or want to read anything of mine at all. This was all so new to me when I started. So thank you to everyone who has read this and encouraged me, it means so much! I will miss these Fraser’s, but I’m looking forward to even more stories to tell <3 and of course, thank you to @julesbeauchamp for calling this the ‘outlander we deserve’ and making me a couple of moodboards ;) 

Masterlist Here

4 months later…

September 19th, 1747

“Just breathe, Sassenach,” Jamie said softly from beside me. I’d been in labor since yesterday afternoon and I remember hearing that with the third child, it was supposed to be easier… not this one.

“He’s stubborn thing,” I groaned. “Just like his father.”

“Or a stubborn lass…” Jamie smirked. “Like her mam.”

Narrowing my eyes at him, I let out a deep breath as another contraction came, this time much closer than the one before. Jenny and the midwife were helping me — wetting my forehead with a damp cloth, making sure I stayed hydrated. Jamie hadn’t left my side all night, he’d barely slept either.

I considered myself to be a patient person, but when matters of my body were concerned and an immense amount of pain… I wasn’t.

“Do ye wanna go for another walk, mo nighean? See if it helps,” Jamie asked.

“No,” I said through gritted teeth. “I do not want to go for another bloody walk, I want this baby out of me!”

Gripping Jamie’s hand tight, another contraction passed. The last time I had given birth to our son, William, it had been dangerous for the both of us. I was scared and I knew Jamie was too. In my own time, I would be in a hospital with clean linen’s and medicines to help with the pain — giving childbirth in the 18th century was exactly what I’d thought it would be.

“Is there anythin’ we can do, Jenny?” Jamie asked his sister who had just returned with freshly boiled cloths.

“If she doesna want to go for a walk, aye, there are a few things…” she smirked.

“Well what is it?” I tried to sit up. I knew of a few things all right… and I knew why she was smirking.

“Intercourse helps progress the labor quite well,” she said and I felt Jamie shift in the bed. He was so nervous to touch me near the end, afraid that the baby would some how feel an intruder. “Nipple stimulation, and of course wee walks.”

I looked over at Jamie who’s face was red, “Well?”

“I dinna want to hurt ye, Sassenach… or the bairn.”

“You won’t hurt us, Jamie. How many times do I have to tell you this,” I smiled, cupping his face. “If you’re too bloody afraid to have sex with your wife, then the least you can do is touch me.” I reached for his hand and laid it on my breast.

“I’ll come back later,” Jenny smirked and left the room, closing the door behind her.

“Ye think this will work, mo ghraidh?” Jamie moved closer, pulling my shift down from my shoulders until both breasts were exposed.

“Oh yes,” I nodded. “I’ve heard of many women’s labors being sped up this way and of course by having sex, but…” I gave him a look. “My husband won’t do that.”

“Och, ye ken I want to, Sassenach… I just—“ He said a bit shyly as he glanced down at my massive belly. “I dinna want to hurt ye and I dinna want to poke the poor fella.”

Jamie moved his fingers around my areola, pressing gently and then firmer as I touched his wrist. My nipples hardened at his touch. Sex was the last thing on my mind, having been sweating and feeling like I was about to explode for the last eighteen hours.

“Jamie, will you try?” I said.

He bent down to kiss me, his hands moving to my shoulders. “I’ll try for ye, Sassenach.”

It took a bit of effort, but I managed to move onto my hands and knees — there was no possible way Jamie could manage to curve himself around my stomach and I was too heavy to straddle him.

“If ye feel any pain at all, Claire…” he placed his hands on my hips. “Ye tell me to stop and I swear I will.”

“I won’t,” I urged, backing my hips against him, feeling how hard he was. It’d been months since we’d been together like this, I knew no matter how much he protested, he wanted me.

Slowly and carefully, Jamie pressed into me and a deep sigh left both of our lips. It did feel different, somehow fuller. My stomach was against the bed, and I raised myself best I could on my hands as he began to thrust into me. He was being so gentle, so tender.

“It feels good, Jamie,” I encouraged him and turned my head to see him looking down at the place of our joining. I could hear it then, the wetness as he pushed forward. “Oh!”

“I’m almost,” he grunted. “I canna last much longer, Sassenach.”

Both his hands pressed into my hips, holding me to him and I hung my head forward as he finished with three more thrusts. Every nerve in my body seemed to come alive and it took all the energy in me to roll onto my side, collapsed and spent.

Jamie laid behind me, his hands softly stroking my belly and then I arched against him as another contraction came.

“That was quick,” Jamie chuckled.

Within the next hour, I was pushing, leaning against him for support and squeezing the bloody hell out of his hand. Once I felt the need to push, it all happened rather quickly from that point and now I lay back in bed, holding our precious baby boy.

“I told ye it would help quicken things,” Jenny snorted from the end of the bed as she gathered the used cloths and bedsheets.

“Aye, ye did,” Jamie narrowed his eyes. “Now, will ye go and get the other wee bairns of ours?”

A moment later, Faith and William came running in, excited smiled on their faces. With Jamie’s help, they crawled up onto the bed, sitting around us.

“This is your new baby brother,” I smiled and turned him towards them. “His name is Brian… like your grandda.”

The eldest Brian Fraser stood in the doorway, his arms crossed and I thought I saw a few unshed tears in his eyes. I smiled at him and he at me, then turned back to my children. I never thought I would have a family of my own — a distant thought perhaps in the back of my mind, but never did I think I would be surrounded by my husband and three beautiful children, all with a mop of red hair.

Ever since Brian’s return, we had all gotten into a routine of sorts. Life was beginning to take shape again and after so many years of traveling and never feeling settled, Jamie and I found peace here at Lallybroch.

Brian had grown healthier day by day, returning once again to the man he once was. He didn’t want to be Laird of Lallybroch anymore, it was Jamie’s duty he said. I saw how Jamie took on that responsibility so seriously, always caring for his tenants and family. Caring for us.

I helped around the estate with Jenny, whether in the garden that I had helped cultivate or with daily tasks inside. And once a week, I went into the village and houses nearby and healed people with cuts and diseases, using my knowledge in any way that I could.

We were slowly outgrowing Lallybroch, with three children of our own as well as Jenny and Ian’s never ending offspring. Which is why Jamie had begun building a smaller house just on the edge of the property for us. He said that while he was Laird of Lallybroch, it didn’t mean we had to live in the house. I think he mostly wanted his privacy from all the coming and going of the bigger house.

I had to admit, it would be nice to get away from all the noise that a big house and all its servants and inhabitants brought along with it. Of course we still had three children of our own that made plenty of noises.

I was up at the smaller house now, it’d been a month since Brian was born and I wanted some fresh air. Jamie came out, his shirt covered in dirt and his face with it.

“My Sassenach,” he kissed me and then Brian. “My wee lad.”

“To what do I owe the honor?”

“Just wanted to get some fresh air and see how the house was coming along,” I smiled.

“I expect in the next couple weeks, it’ll be done and we can be in before the cold comes,” he said proudly and slid his arm around my waist.

“It’ll be beautiful, Jamie. I love it already,” I said and then passed Brian into his arms to give mine a break. “Did you ever think that when we first met, we would have all of this?”

“Och, nah.” Jamie smiled as he stroked Brian’s small cheek. “I was an outlaw when we first met, on the run. I never thought I would live to see the day I would return to Lallybroch, especially no as Laird.”

“And I never thought that I would marry that dirty highlander with a dislocated shoulder,” I smirked, crossing my arms.

“I’m glad ye did, Sassenach,” Jamie kissed me. “I remember that night like it twas yesterday, ye comin’ in wi’ Murtagh, dressed in yer shift wi’ yer wet curls drippin’ down.”

“You bloody scot!” I hit him on the arm, “You just wanted to see through my dress, even back then.”

“Aye, I did,” he laughed. “Ye were so bonny and the I’d never seen anyone as beautiful as ye, Sassenach. Can ye forgive me for wantin’ ye? Even then?”

I pressed my lips to his, then laid my head against his shoulder. “I forgive you. Only because I wanted you too, from the start.”

++++++

4 years ago….

The strange man I was with that had saved me from the English soldier — the same one that bared a striking resemblance to Frank — pushed open a door to a small cottage. Inside was a group of men, huddled around a fire.

They spoke a language I didn’t understand and I began to feel like I wasn’t entirely safe.

A man rose from the corner, pulling my arm aside to bring me closer to the fire, “Let’s have a look at ye, lass.”

“I trust you’re able to see me now,” I said, trying my best to hold myself together.

“What’s yer name?” he said with a thick Scottish accent.

I decided to keep using my maiden name. If they intended to ransom me, I didn’t want to lead them back to Frank. “Claire,” I said. “Claire Beauchamp.”

“Claire Beauchamp,” he said.

“That’s right! What the hell do y—“

“You said you found her?” He interrupted me, talking to the man who had brought me here.

“Aye,” the other man said. “She was havin’ words wi’ a certain Captain of Dragoons, wi’ whom we are acquainted.” He looked over at me, “There seemed to be some question as to whether the lady was or was not a whoor.”

“And what was the lady’s position in the discussion?”

“I am not!”

“We could put it to the test,” another man said from the corner.

“I don’t hold wi’ rape,” the man beside me said, but I found little comfort in his words. “We don’t have the time for it anyway.”

“Dougal,” the first man said, “I have no idea what she might be, but I’ll stake my best shot, she’s not a whoor.”

“We’ll puzzle that out later,” the man Dougal said and then went back to the fire behind me. “We’ve a good distance to go tonight, we must do somethin’ about Jamie first.”

Escape was my chief concern, but I had no idea where I was and trying to find the road back to Inverness in the gathering darkness felt like a fool’s errand.

All the men had crowded around a man with red hair.

“It’s the joint, poor bugger. Ye canna ride wi’ it like that can ye?”

“It hurts enough sittin’ still, I couldna manage a horse,” the injured man said.

“I don’t mean to be leavin’ him behind.”

“There’s no help for it then,” another man said, “I’ll have to force the joint back.”

The wisest course of action would have been to keep my head down, my mouth shut and wait for the search parties Frank must have sent out by now. But I couldn’t stand there and do nothing as I watched these grubby highland men surround the injured one, starting to pull on his arm while he choked down ale.

“Don’t you dare!” I rushed forward and the pulled their knives on me. “Stand aside at once, you’ll break his arm if you do it like that!”

They all just looked at me as if they’d never heard a woman speak before, “You have to get the bone of the upper arm in the correct position before it slips back into joint.” The man Dougal moved aside to let me attend to the injured man.

He was covered in blood and sweat and I laid my hands gently on his arm, he winced slightly.

“Hold him steady,” I said to the men behind him and then looked at the red haired man, nodding once to let him know I was about to do it. I moved his forearm, twisting it and he let out a groan, “This is the worst part.”

He nodded, breathing heavily as I then took his arm and pushed it back into place.

“Taing Dhia!” He said, looking up at me. “It doesna hurt anymore.”

“It will,” I said checking his arm. “It’ll be tender for about a week, you’ll need a sling.”

“You,” I nodded to a man nearby, “Fetch me a long piece of cloth or a belt!”

“Fetch me she says,” he mocked me. “Did ye hear that lads?”

“Give her yer belt…” Dougal said.

“Takin’ a guess ye’ve done this before?” the red haired man I heard referred to as Jamie, said.

I nodded, my arm still holding onto his, “I’m a nurse.” Sets of eyes drifted down to my breasts, “Not a wet nurse!”

I took the belt from the man, wrapping it around Jamie’s arm. “You mustn’t move the joint for two or three days. When you begin to use it again, go very slowly at first. Stop at once if it hurts. And use warm compresses on it daily.”

“Alright,” I hooked the belt, “How does that feel?”

“Better,” Jamie smiled. “Thank ye.”

“Can ye ride?” Dougal said, tossing him his jacket.

“Aye,” Jamie said, still looking up at me.

“Good, we’re leavin’.”

We all made out way outside, now dark and raining. Jamie followed behind me and I looked out at the dark night, “Where is it? Where is the city? It should be visible from here…”

“Inverness?” Jamie said, nodding forward. “Yer lookin’ straight at it.”

There were no electric lights as far as the eye could see, so as much as my rational mind rebelled against the idea — I knew in my heart, I was no longer in the 20th century.

“Get yerself up,” Dougal came behind me, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards Jamie’s horse that he was already seated upon. “You be sure to stay close to the rest of us and should ye try anythin’ else, I shall slit yer throat for ye. Do ye understand me?”

I nodded, scared out of my mind. “Give me yer foot,” he said and hoisted me up onto Jamie’s horse. I sat in front of him, feeling his warm solid chest behind me. He moved around me, pressing against me, “Careful. What are you trying to do?”

“Get my plaid to cover ye,” he said. “Yer shiverin’,” Jamie said softly as he pulled the plaid around both of us.

“Thank you, but I’m fine really.”

“Yer shakin’ so hard, it’s makin’ my teeth rattle,” he laughed. “The plaid will keep us both warm, but I canna do it one handed. Can ye reach?”

I reached behind me, helping Jamie to cover us. I was thankful for the plaid he had and for the heat his body was emanating — he was like a furnace and for the first time that day, I began to feel safe, sitting here in his arms.

“No need to freeze before sun up,” he said.

“Sun up? You mean we’ll be riding all night?”

“All night,” he confirmed. “And the next one too, I reckon.”

We set off, moving further and further away from Inverness — from Frank and from my once chance of returning to where I had come from. All through the night, I felt Jamie’s arms wrapped around me and had to admit to myself that it felt quite nice. He was big, much bigger than Frank and I felt protected.

I found myself in a strange time, still trying to figure out just when that was.

“Are ye alright, lass?” Jamie said some hours later.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” I said. “Just where are we going anyways?”

“Och, we’re goin’ to Castle Leoch, still a days ride away.”

“Castle Leoch?”

“Aye, ye know it?”

“Sort of,” I replied. I had been there with Frank only yesterday and it seemed odd to be going there again, only this time alone and perhaps in a different century.

As the night went on and the sun began to come up, I found that my companion was still holding me tight to him — not that there was anywhere else to go. Thoughts of Frank were slipping from my mind as the cold seeped into my bones. At one point, I thought I felt something hard against my lower back, but shook my head, it couldn’t be.

But if I was honest with myself, the man, Jamie was quite handsome and more than once I had drifted off to sleep in his arms, finding myself dreaming of him in ways I shouldn’t have.

No matter where I was, or what century I found myself in — all I knew was that I wanted Jamie, this strange highlander by my side at all times. For when I was with him, I felt safe and protected — as if he would let no harm come to me and my well being. I barely knew him and yet I trusted him completely.

The End. <3

[imjustthemechanic]

Glockenspiel

Part 1/? - Transmission Part 2/? - The Sandhill Hotel Part 3/? - Piccadilly Part 4/? - The Future Part 5/? - Too Late Part 6/? - The Mystery of the Missing Time Machine Part 7/? - Underway           

Peggy had been to the little airstrip near the village of Heathrow a few times during the war.  They’d been working on improving it into a real airport but hadn’t finished before VE day, so work had scaled back to a more leisurely pace, and the new London Airport had opened in 1946.  Seventy years later, the airport had swollen to cover more area than Peggy remembered the entire down as having.  There seemed to be positive miles of faded tarmac and undulating glass buildings, while any remnants of little Heathrow had been devoured as London itself grew inexorably bigger.

Toulouse breezed them through the buildings through Members Only entrances and VIP lounges and such things.  When a woman asked to see their passports, Toulouse just gave her a handful of banknotes, and they kept walking.

“Do you often fly without papers?” Peggy asked quietly.

“I never did that before, actually,” Toulouse replied with a smile on her face.  “I didn’t think it would work!  I almost want to report her for taking bribes, but then I’d be reporting myself, too.”

Everything else had changed so much, Peggy wasn’t sure what to expect from the inside of the airplane.  The cabin was larger and longer than anything she’d seen before, but to her surprise the seats were actually significantly smaller, the ceilings lower, and the leg room less.  It looked bad enough in business class, and when she looked down the aisle to where the economy passengers were boarding, she found them packed in like commuters on a subway train.  It was almost a shock that nobody had to stand.

“Flying used to be a luxurious way to travel,” she commented as she sat down.  Like the cars, the airplane had a seat belt.  She buckled it, just in case.

“Things stop being nice when normal people start being able to afford them,” said Toulouse.

“Did you call your father to tell him where you’re going?” Peggy wanted to know.

“I’m twenty-eight,” Toulouse told her.  “I don’t have to do that anymore.  He wouldn’t answer anyway,” she added with a sigh.  “He only answered the other night because I had Harvinder tell him it was an emergency.  I did tell Prince that I’m going to America with some friends.  If he asks why, I’ll say I’m visiting Junior.”

“Who’s Junior?” asked Howard.

“My oldest brother.  He died when I was still in school, and he’s buried there.”  Toulouse shrugged.  “It’s not the right time of year, but it’s a good excuse, I guess.”

The plane’s takeoff roll was much more gentle than Peggy remembered such things being, and its ascent far quicker.  She had to swallow repeatedly to make her ears pop, and it seemed like no time at all before they were sailing along to the muted roar of the jet engines, with the Bristol Channel glittering in the sunlight below them.  Looking out the window on her left, Peggy could see Cardiff, and she spotted Swansea before clouds moved in, blocking the view of the landscape below.  She settled back in her seat then.  It was going to be a long flight, and even without the clouds there would be nothing much to see outside over the ocean.

Toulouse had her laptop with her, and once the plane reached cruising altitude, she set the computer u on the tray table in front of her and began typing furiously.  Howard, in the aisle seat, took an interest.

“What are you working on?” he asked.

“My master’s thesis,” said Toulouse.  “I’m taking women’s history, and I’m specifically writing about Parliament Joan.  Her real name was Elizabeth Alkin.  She ran her own publishers, distributing propaganda for the Parliamentarians during the English Civil War, and used her connections to find and discredit people who were printing for the Royalists.”

“An ancestor of yours?” Howard asked Peggy.

“No, but something of a role model,” Peggy replied with a smile.  She’d first heard of the woman during her teens, from the other ladies in the codebreaking office, and had immediately set out to read all she could about her. 

“People think of her mainly as a spy,” Toulouse said, “but she also had to be a businesswoman, and she wasn’t very good at it to start with.  I was at the National Archives because they’ve got some of her letters there, written in her very own handwriting.”

Peggy nodded.  “It is magical, isn’t it?  When you get to touch something from the past, knowing who held it before you?”  She thought of some of the things the SSR had recovered after the war.  There’d been famous art, and mystical artefacts, and things that had to have come light-years across the depths of space to be there.  With some of them she knew who had held them before her, but there were others she could only wonder about.

“It really is,” Toulouse agreed.

“Your family must be very proud of you,” said Peggy.  The words came out quite automatically, and it was only once they were already spoken that she remembered what Toulouse had already said about her father.

Toulouse sighed.  “I haven’t spoken to my mother in four years,” she said.  “And Daddy just says it’s good I’m keeping occupied.”

���I’m sorry,” Peggy said.  Her own father had died of a heart attack when she was only seven, and her mother had never had much money, but she had good memories of both as loving parents.  She looked at Howard – he didn’t talk much about his family but she had the definite impression that they’d never understood him.  He would be more qualified to commiserate with Toulouse about this.

“They don’t know what they’re missing,” Howard told her.  “Someday they’ll come to you begging for a favour, and you’ll be able to tell them to stuff it.  It’ll feel great.”

Peggy shut her eyes.  She could feel the headache coming on already.

The people who ran airlines knew that twelve-hour flights were deathly boring, and attempted to fill the time by showing movies.  The movies themselves, unfortunately, were absolutely dreadful.  There was one about a robotic policeman and another about a haunted doll, and Peggy got no more than ten minutes into either of them before she removed the little speakers she’d been given to put in her ears, and tried to sleep instead.

She doubted she’d be able to nod off, but she must have, because she woke hearing Howard and Toulouse talking quietly.

“So when I say he’s buried there,” Toulouse was telling him, “it’s more that he’s got his name on a monument, because they didn’t find his body.  Daddy hasn’t been to America for years because of it.  Whenever he has something to do there, he sends Cass.”

“Cass is… brother number two, right?” Howard asked.

“Yes, in between Junior and Prince,” said Toulouse.

“No sisters?”

“Just me,” Toulouse said.  “I’m the girl.”

Peggy closed her eyes again.  During the war she’d had a sense that things were getting better for women.  There’d been a new appreciation for their traditional roles, as well as for their ability to work at what were considered men’s jobs.  She’d stayed at the SSR because she’d wanted to finish what Steve Rogers and Sergeant Barnes had started, but also because she’d honestly thought she’d be useful and welcome there.  The men who worked there had other ideas.  They’d thought that with the war over, it was time for the women to go home.If she’d thought about it, Peggy would have hoped that seventy years would have resulted in some progress.  Yet here he was, sitting next to a young woman who was evidently much more intelligent and accomplished than her taste in hair dye would lead one to believe, but whose family didn’t care what she did because she was the Girl.  It was really terribly depressing.

They arrived in Toronto at nine in the evening local time, and during the layover they were able to get something to eat that wasn’t airplane food.  The cost of the sodas and sandwiches absolutely appalled Peggy and Howard both – nine dollars for tuna fish on white bread! – but Toulouse paid it without comment.  Apparently inflation was another one of the things that had simply gone on uninterrupted.

Flight schedules hadn’t changed much, either.  Their departure from Toronto was delayed, so it was closer to four than two-thirty when they finally reached Los Angeles.  A small bus took them from the airport to the Sandhill Hotel in Playa Del Rey, where all three of them collapsed into bed.

They had separate rooms within the suite this time, thank heavens, so if Howard and Toulouse had any more sex, Peggy at least didn’t have to listen to it.

Toulouse had sent their things to the hotel laundry overnight, so in the morning Peggy and Howard were able to put on clothes that were probably cleaner than when they’d bought them.  A woman came to drop them off while the group was having breakfast.  Peggy and Howard were sitting in their hotel bathrobes, and Toulouse’s outfit today was tight-fitting polka-dot leggings and a shirt with something on it that was quite unidentifiable – it had cartoon eyes and a smile, and a shape that Peggy chose to charitably assume represented a curl of chocolate ice cream.

The hotel employee, a brunette in her mid-twenties, kept looking at Toulouse out of the corner of her eye as she spread the clean clothes out on the bed.  Finally she straightened up and said, “before I go, I have to know – aren’t you Toulouse Sandhill?”

“Yes!” Toulouse replied, pulling out her wallet to give the woman a tip.  “And you’re… Madison,” she read off the nametag.  “Nice to meet you.”

Madison held out a wrist.  “I’m wearing your perfume!” she said.

Toulouse sniffed it.  “You are!  I’m so glad you like it!”

“Is it true that there’s a giant apocalypse bunker under this hotel?” Madison asked eagerly.  “I’ve never actually gone looking for it but I’ve seen websites about it, and people think it’s some sort of New World Order type thing.”

“I have no idea,” said Toulouse, but the idea didn’t seem to startle her.  “I’ve never been here before.  I can ask Cass about it, if you like.”

“No, no, I figured you wouldn’t say,” Madison replied, with a knowing smile.  “It was so cool to meet you!  Thanks for the tip!”  And she scurried out.

Peggy sipped her tea thoughtfully.  “You didn’t mention an apocalypse bunker,” she said to Toulouse.  Wasn’t it just a coincidence that an ‘apocalypse bunker’ was exactly where she and Howard had to go?

“I didn’t think of it,” said Toulouse.  “I don’t even know if it’s real.  Like I said, I’ve never been to this location before, but I know the Americans have apocalypse bunkers all over the country.  There’s a big one under the Stanley Springs Hotel in Tennessee, that was built for the government to hide in during the Cold War.  I’ve never been there, either, but they give tours.  I saw a YouTube video about it.”

“You said this hotel was ten years old,” Peggy recalled.  “When did the ‘Cold War’ end?”

“I was a kid.  Let me see…”  Toulouse grabbed her phone to look it up.  “1991 was when the Soviet Union fell apart, and I definitely know that the Playa Del Rey opened in 2006, because Junior had been in charge of the project and there was an eight-month delay after he died.”

“That’s fifteen years,” said Peggy.  Who built a bunker against a threat that had ended fifteen years ago?  She looked at Howard, to see what he thought.

He could tell where she was headed.  “You think maybe our clue is here in the hotel?” he asked.

That was an oddly reasonable hypothesis.  Knowing that they’d been involved with the Sandhill family on their little adventure through time, Peggy and Howard might well have left the time machine plans here, where they would be easily accessible without breaking any laws.  Or would they?  By 2006 Peggy would be retired and Howard would be dead, and with the building of the hotel delayed by the death of the owner’s son, all sorts of things might intervene.

“It could be,” she said.  “I don’t know.”  They could bury something here ahead of time, but how could they be sure it wouldn’t be dug up and lost when the hotel was built?  Then again, if it were here to find, that by itself would be their answer…

Howard pointed his breakfast fork at Toulouse’s phone.  “While we’re here, what’s that Internet got to say about die Glocke?”

“How do you spell it?” Toulouse wanted to know.

Howard told her, and she entered it in her search engine.  Her eyes darted back and forth over the results that came up.  “Okay, it says there was some Polish guy who wrote a book about it… according to him it’s supposed to be a weapon that kills every living thing for miles around, and it was built in a Nazi base near Wenceslaus Mine.”

That name made Peggy perk up.  “I’ve been to Wenceslaus,” she said.  “I was there with Steve, but there was nothing in it.  Somebody had warned them we were coming, and they had time to clean it out.”

“Warned them you were coming?” Toulouse asked.  “Like as if somebody came back from the future to tell them?”

At the time Peggy hadn’t thought of that – why would she? – but now it seemed worryingly plausible.  In that case… “Die Glocke can’t be the time machine itself, because Zola said they were searching for it, but yes, very like that.”  She took a bite of bagel and thought about it.  “I wonder whether perhaps they transmitted the entire contents of the base to the future, and now they’re hoping to get a machine in the right place at the right time to pick it up.”  In which case they were planning to materialize their superweapon right in the middle of London.

“That was winter 1944, wasn’t it?” Howard said.  “If they’ve had the time machine that long, then we’re in trouble, because just returning to 1948 won’t be enough to stop them.”

“No, it won’t.”  Peggy groaned.  “This just gets more complicated by the hour!”

“So what are you gonna do?” asked Toulouse.

She thought about it a moment.  The hotel might be worth checking out, but they didn’t actually know if it even existed.  The Sierra bunker still seemed the most obvious choice.  “We’ll stick to the original plan,” she decided.  “If there’s nothing in the bunker, we’ll come back here and look.”

[the-record-newspaper]

The murder of Rhonda Hinson

Left is Rhonda Hinson in elementary school and right is a photo taken during her senior year at East Burke High  School. Photos courtesy of the Hinson family.

(Editor’s Note:  The 1980’s was a violent decade for women in Wilkes and surrounding counties.  At least four young women were murdered between 1981and 1987—their cases remain unresolved:  Rhonda Hinson of Burke County — who has relatives in Wilkes County, Angela Hamby of Wilkes, who disappeared in 1982,  Sherry Hart of Ashe County, and Candy Roberson of Wilkes. This series, “The Killing of Rhonda Hinson” is the second in a trilogy of murder cases that will be detailed in The Record over the ensuing weeks and months — cold cases of crimes perpetrated against women over 30-years ago, whose families await justice and closure.)

    By LARRY J. GRIFFIN

  Special Investigative Reporter for The Record

 I closed my eyes for one second, and you were gone.  Now, my heart aches, my eyes leak, my soul mourns, and my family is broken. Only a moment that changed forever….You can be sure you will live in my heart forever…I miss the me I was when you were here… –A Facebook meme posted by Judy Hinson

 Bobby Hinson remembers his daughter’s prediction.

“Rhonda told me that it was going to snow on Christmas Day,” he said. “We were always betting on when it was going to snow, and she told me that it would be on Christmas that year.”

Already there had been some moderate, late December snowfall in the Burke County Foothills; so, there was more than just a slight chance that Christmas, 1981, would be white.

“…And sure enough—as we were walking out of the house to go to church that morning, large white snowflakes started falling,” Bobby recalled, as he gazed into the middle distance.

It was Friday, December 25th.  As dads and moms and children gathered around Christmas trees bedecked with garland and twinkling lights to open treasure troves of colorful gifts, one family of three—undergirded by relatives and friends—quietly buried Rhonda Hinson.

Rhonda Annette Hinson was born 12 days before Christmas in 1962—Thursday, December 13th—the first child and only daughter of Judy and Bobby Hinson. “It was 2 p.m.,” Mother Judy remembered.  Their baby girl was healthy; however, the final days of pregnancy, leading up to the birth, were not without issues.  

“We were living in Great Falls, S.C., at the time—in Chester County.  But before Rhonda was born, my doctor discovered that she was going to be a breech birth with her legs tucked against her little chest.  So, he sent me to the hospital in Rock Hill, in York County, because they had more experience with breech births.”  

Fortuitously, the attending physician succeeded in turning her infant daughter, and Judy was able to give birth, without resorting to a “C-Section” delivery.

“Rhonda did undergo therapy for the first year to make sure her legs would grow in the correct position—the sessions were successful,” recounted Ms. Hinson.  “I once told my daughter about the problem with her legs being tucked against her chest. I don’t think that she ever forgot that story, which could account for her excelling in sports so she could use those legs. I mean, she played tennis, basketball, ran track, danced, twirled baton, and always marched in Charlotte’s Thanksgiving Carousel Parade.”

Judy freely admitted that she was a typical, doting first-time mother who held her newborn all the time.  “I didn’t realize that it was OK to lay her down and to let her cry a little.  So, I kept her wrapped you and held her all day long.”

Once while cuddling her neonate, the young mother drifted off to sleep.  “I was worn out and fell asleep.  And when I woke up, I was in a panic—Rhonda was not in my arms.  I looked down at my feet; there she lay--sleeping away on the floor.  She must have rolled off my lap onto the floor, but was so wrapped up that the tumble didn’t hurt her.”

When their daughter was 3-months old, the Hinsons decided to move northward to North Carolina where Judy’s brother was living.  Bobby took a job at Waldensian Bakeries in the hamlet of Valdese—one that he would hold for the duration of his working-life.  The young family of three moved into a gray block house located on a backstreet, adjacent to both the elementary and high schools, in the tiny town of Drexel, about three miles away from the bakery at which Mr. Hinson was employed.  

Eventually, they moved into Valdese proper and welcomed an addition to the family.  Robert Hinson Jr., “Robbie,” was born on Saturday, Jan. 27, 1968 at Valdese General Hospital—the Hinsons’ last child and only son.  Across time, a close bond developed between a baby brother and his older sister.

When Rhonda was 6 years old, she was enrolled in Valdese Elementary School; the Hinsons lived nearby.  Initially, the school experience did not seem to agree with the budding academician.

“About everyday at lunchtime, I would see Rhonda walking from the school toward the house.  And every time, she came in complaining of a ‘terrible headache,’” Judy laughingly recalled.  “The school day was much too long for her, I guess; she could only tolerate about a half-day.”

Circa 1972, the Hinson Family moved a few miles east of Valdese toward the village of Rutherford College.  “We lived in a trailer park there for a while—but not for very long.” Judy recounted. An incident occurred that left an indelible impact upon their 13-year-old daughter and could conceivably account for her lifelong obsession with safety.

“Bobby had to be at work at 2 o’clock in the morning. Not long after he left, we were in bed when I heard someone yelling and beating on the door.  I got Rhonda and Robbie out of their beds and brought them into my bedroom just before someone knocked the door open and walked inside. We went out the back door to a neighbor’s house and called the police.”

When law enforcement arrived, they discovered a drunken intruder who was visiting from out-of-town and thought that he was breaking into the trailer at which he was staying.  Though no harm came to the mother and her children, neither Rhonda nor Robbie wanted to return to the trailer.  

“They were frightened and didn’t feel at all safe anymore,” Ms. Hinson averred.  “So, we had to locate another place to live—and fast….We took about the first place that we could find available at the time—a house on Hillcrest  Street. which we live in now.”  

Even before she started school, Rhonda Hinson demonstrated a penchant for being in the limelight.  When she was 5 years of age, she was among the cast of the 1968 inaugural production of the Burke County outdoor drama, From This Day Forward—a history play, written by Fred Cranford, chronicling the story of the arrival of the Waldensians who settled in the Valdese area.

(Ironically, this writer was among the original cast of that production staged in August, 1968.  I recall that a number of children of sundry ages were involved in the play and rehearsed dance sequences regularly in the Valdese High School gymnasium, adjacent to the outdoor stage.  Little did I realize at the time that among the children, with whom I frequently interacted, was 5-year-old Rhonda Hinson.)

“She was in the outdoor play for three-years. Her daddy went with her to every rehearsal and every performance.  And throughout elementary school she also danced and twirled baton—she was always doing something.  Rhonda loved being in the limelight,” her mother recollected.

While attending Valdese Junior High School, Rhonda was a solid, consistent student who continued to excel in extra-curricular activities, among which were basketball and the junior varsity band.  She played the clarinet and continued to do so when she matriculated at East Burke High  School in 1978.  

Ask anyone who knew her and the story is the same—everyone liked Rhonda Hinson.

“Rhonda was well-liked by everyone,” remembered Sarah McBrayer, who lived across the street from the Hinsons and attended East Burke High  School with their daughter.  “She made friends easily; she didn’t carry grudges; she smiled and laughed and was always in an upbeat mood.”  

“There was absolutely no way that she had any enemies--anywhere,” said her closest lifelong friend, Jill Turner-Mull.  “We moved here from South Carolina in 1973—I was in the fourth grade and Rhonda Hinson was my best friend even back then—in fact we became instant best friends, and she loved for me to brush her hair…The two of us might as well been sisters.”

Jill’s mother, Revonda Turner agreed, “They were together all the time.  Rhonda spent a lot of time at our house just as Jill spent time at the Hinsons’.”  

Jackie Griffin Berry, who shared homeroom and several classes with Rhonda, remarked, “…she was quiet…had lots of friends, and liked to play sports.”

In fact, she excelled in sports, earning accolades in basketball, track, tennis—even varsity band.  Jill Turner-Mull recalled her best friend’s sports prowess.  “While I cheered all three years in Junior High School—grades seven through nine—Rhonda played basketball.  However, during our sophomore year in High School, we did run track together. Though Rhonda was noted for her [general] athletic ability, tennis was her passion.”

Like most teenage girls, Rhonda dated during her formative high school years.  “She dated a couple guys, one of whom was Don Gilbert,” Mother Judy recalled.  He was such a nice young man; I liked him a lot. I remember being angry with Rhonda when she stopped dating him.”

Jill Turner-Mull recalled Gilbert as well. “Yes, Don was a very nice guy, and he really liked Rhonda.  But I don’t remember her dating anyone steady.”

But that was about to change.  

During her junior year, a quiet, rather studious young athlete named Greg McDowell caught Rhonda’s eye, and a romantic relationship began to develop between them.

Rhonda Hinson had slightly longer than 24-months to live.