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thebesthistoryreview · 8 months ago

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Cowards We Are Not

Battle of Buena Vista

Battle of Buena Vista, (Feb. 22–23, 1847), battle fought near Monterrey, Mex., in the Mexican-American War (1846–48)

Colonel Davis, who will be mentioned in the below story, was severely crippled at the beginning of the battle. The morning that the American troops came under fire, he was shot through the bones of the arch of one of his feet. He continued to fight and lead his men until after the worst of the battle had subsided. Major Bradford, who will be mentioned here as well, then took command so that Colonel Davis could have his foot taken care of. Major Bradford was known for his coolness in battle and utter contempt of danger.

From the Best History Review, we hope you enjoy the story and we thank you for spending time with us today.

February, 1847

To my brother James,

Forgive me for not writing sooner. I have made a spot for a moment’s rest and write of a great battle. I will now give you a detailed account of what I saw and what I will forever see.

The left flank of our forces was turned by the Mexicans, who at the time had been in pursuit of the Flying Infantry and Horseman.

Column after column, the Mexican army continued to appear until they became one large mass. Believe me when I say, this mass numbered 12,000 men, perhaps more.

Dear brother, I think I learned what fear is at the sight of this mass that stood proudly in our path. Their arms were brilliantly burnished and reflected the rays of the sun in a blinding manner. The uniforms of the Mexican army were richly decorated ,as if to please a king in the highest of courts. Here we stood, all of us, including our officers, in tattered and soiled garments, looking as if we could not take another step.

Soon, the Mexican Cavalry appeared, in the same fashionable dress, numbering over two thousand.

The sight of such a magnificent and organized force was a reminder that at present, they were the victors.

Our father, in his stories of war, would say he did not fear death, because he thought of himself as dead already. I tell you in all honesty, brother, his meaning is clear to me.

The soldiers of the Mexican army fell before us, score after score. Our men filled the air with Mississippi cheers and let the enemy know that no cowards were to be found in our tattered band.

Our men rushed forward, continuing our cheers and firing of rifles and the Mexican army began to retreat, disorganized and spreading in all directions. The dead covered the ground and our own soldiers would have become disorganized had it not been for our leader.

Colonel Davis saved us from being swallowed by an overpowering number of the enemy and ordered us to retire and rally.

Brother, you remember Major Bradford? He is, quite possibly, the bravest, impatient and impulsive officer that ever drew a sword. Bradford, seeing us falling back, thought we were defeated. He dismounted his horse and followed slowly, and as he followed, pleadingly, he began exclaiming — — “Shoot me! Shoot me!” I called out to him — - “What the devil’s the matter, Major?” At this, Major Bradford continued his performance. “Ah, kill me! The Mississippi Regiment has run, and I don’t want to live another minute!” The Major soon realized as we reformed and the voice of Colonel Davis pushed us forward. “Forward! Guide center! March!” The command was repeated by fifty or more voices and though our ranks were thinned by the killed and wounded, we once again gave out the Mississippi cheer and returned to the bloody contest. At some point during the night, we returned over the grounds from which we had given our first charge. Ten years from now, if I still stand, do I hope to forget the scene. Our fallen comrades, with bodies mangled and some unrecognizable….I can not express the feelings that overwhelm a man, when after battle, he stands upon the field of such death and destruction. Young Caleb, a young man we had known since childhood, was among the dead. If it had not been for the straw hat and a few articles of clothing, he would have been unrecognizable.

He had been shot, stabbed several times and most of his clothing was taken. The enemy is not kind to our dead, dear brother. I do not know if I will ever forget the horrors of this war. For the time being, my mind rest uneasily at the thought that I would be just as young Caleb.

Forgive my choppiness in writing this. I find myself having to put my writing down and return to it.

Brother, do you know, as I write this, I find comfort in the thought of death. I question if there is a one of us that does not find comfort in the idea that this waiting game will one day have an ending. As it stands, from my view point, it is not a matter of if death will come, but when?

As I walked among the dead, I saw bodies shot and stabbed, mutilated, the same as Caleb. I saw every expression in the faces of the dead, every passion and feeling frozen in death. Some had a peaceful look of acceptance, others anger, having fought the approaching death and enemy at the same moment. Some had begged for mercy while others fought bravely until the last breath, hands reached out to the enemy as if still in battle.

Brother, here on the same battlefield, waiting for burial and never to return home, the young, and reaching up in the ages to the mature and old, died together on this bloody day.

I passed our dead and moved forward to the scene of the Mexican soldiers. The ground was covered with them. The numbers of the dead that had moments before been our foe is not what held my attention. The scene was horrible enough, God knows, but the horror of the sight was diverted.

Brother, not a one of the Mexican soldiers was robbed or stripped of his clothing, nor was there any sign that the the wounded or dead Mexican soldiers had been tortured or abused.

The Mexicans have been know to call us ‘barbarous volunteers of the United States of the North”.

I stood in that spot for a long time, brother, learning who our ‘foe’ was.

One of the dead Mexican soldiers was a young boy, not more than 15 years old. The sight touched me deeply and brought me to my knees. A bullet had struck him, went through the breast and would have brought an instant death. He was lying on his back, his face looking over to the side and towards the sky, and in his death, his face held a smile, a sunny and bright smile.

Brother, I hope when death comes for me, I wear a smile as bright and welcoming as his.

Your brother for eternity,

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The staff of the Best History Review want to say thank you for spending time with us. We know your time is valuable and we are grateful that you chose to be with us.

We have a passion for history and strive to bring the stories to the public in an engaging manner. American history is a part of world history and so belongs to everyone.

We love to hear feedback, the good, the bad, and the ugly .

Feel free to leave a comment and if there is something you would like us to write about, a part of history you would like us to bring forward, let us know.

We have a lot more stories that our team will be cranking out revolving around the Mexican War and those will be shared with you in the following weeks to come.

Have a wonderful day, be safe, and until next time…..Peace

#mexico #battle #buena #mexican #brother

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four-loose-screws · 4 years ago

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FE4 Suzuki Novelization Translation (Gen II) - Chapter 2

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations

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Chapter 2 - Seliph's Army

"We're in danger! A bunch of soldiers are headed this way!" Ulster, a young swordfighter, gasped between words as he ran up to Seliph and the others with him.

"What? Are they really coming here?" His twin sister Larcei, also a swordfighter, asked.

They both had black hair, but otherwise hardly resembled each other. Larcei looked like their mother, Ayra, and Ulster took after their father, Lex.

"It's true! I saw them turn down the road leading into Tirnanog, so I hurried back! They'll be here in ten minutes!"

"How many people are in the group?"

"I saw about ten, but I don't know if that's all of them."

"I wonder why they're here?" Seliph asked nonchalantly.

"It's obvious, isn't it, Seliph? They've come to capture you!" Larcei exclaimed.

"But why?"

"Let's run away! Neither Lord Shanan nor Lord Oifey's knights are here!" Ulster suggested.

"So maybe they came to attack us while everyone is away…"

"How can you be so calm!? If you don't escape soon, then it'll be too late!"

"Alright. Let's get out of here for now."

The three, together with the cleric Lana, left their hidden house, and headed straight for the forest.

Seliph stopped just as they entered the forest, and asked, "Sorry to bother you Ulster, but could you climb one of the trees and see what the soldiers are doing?"

"What are you thinking!? Are you not going to escape?"

"It won't be too late if we start running after we've figured out their motive."

Seliph's voice was still as calm as it had been since the beginning. But this time, his choice of words finally made the others relax.

Ulster found a tree that he could easily climb, made his way to the top, and saw about ten soldiers passing through the entrance to the village.

They were all carrying axes, and part of an axe fighter unit considered thugs even amongst the other Isaachian soldiers.

"They're headed straight for our house!" Ulster explained.

'I knew it.' Seliph thought. 'They've been watching us for a long time, so they must have known Shanan and Oifey are out right now.'

"They didn't find us, so now they're scattering to search the other houses."

'Tirnanog is called a village, but there's only ten houses. They'll figure out pretty fast that we aren't in the village. I wonder what they're planning to do after that?'

"They're gathering the villagers in the town square. The guy that looks like the leader is waving around his axe and threatening them!"

"Do you know if he's serious?"

"I can't tell from here. Ah! A few of the soldiers are lighting torches! I think they're gonna try to burn down the village!"

"Let's go." Seliph said.

"Go? Go where?" Larcei asked.

"Back to the village, of course."

"But there's three times more of them than there are of us, and Lord Oifey should be back soon!"

"Larcei, if people that have nothing to do with this were to get hurt because of me, then I'd probably regret it for my whole life. Even if I succeed in getting my revenge against Arvis. And you don't want to run away anymore either, do you? It's written all over your face! Those guys are animals!"

"So you understood how I really feel? I'm already way past my limit! I can't take it anymore! If Lord Seliph will let me, I'll go back…" Larcei argued.

"Ulster, if Shannan hadn't told you not to, you would probably run right straight back yourself. Now let's go! We don't have any time to waste! Lana, you stay here by yourself."

Lana responded with a strong protest, "No, Lord Seliph, I'm going too!"

She was a member of House Jungby, a family of archers, but was a cleric like her mother, Aideen, and couldn't use bows.

"No you're not! You aren't good at fighting!"

"Yes I am! clerics can fight too! I agree with Larcei. I can't stand to see innocent people suffer any longer! Even if you say I can't go, I will. I have my own way of fighting."

"I understand, and you're right, Lana. This is our fight. Now let's go!"

"Wait for me!" Ulster shouted, still halfway up the tree.

But Seliph could wait no longer, and started running. Larcei followed after him.

The moment Seliph entered the village, he yelled out, "I'm Seliph! Come and get me!"

The Isaachian soldiers all whirled around towards the source of the voice. Once they saw Seliph and confirmed with their own eyes that he was the person they were searching for, they all rushed towards him at once.

But fortunately for Seliph and his friends, the soldiers were scattered around the village, so they wouldn't have to deal with the whole group at once.

Still, their victory did not come easily. The soldiers were used to fighting, and while they had plenty of training under their belt, this was their first real battle.

'Calm down.' Seliph said to himself, and tried to remember what Shanan had taught him. 'When up against an axe fighter, dodge their first attack.'

One of the soldiers ran up to him and swung his axe.

Woosh.

The moment he heard the axe whizz past his ear, Seliph swung upwards, slicing his enemy from side to shoulder, just as he'd practiced in training.

As he felt resistance pull on his sword, he was bathed in a splash of blood, and the scent filled his nose.

"Grrrrraaaaaagh!" Like a beast starving for blood, he screamed and ran towards the next enemy.

His forcefulness made the soldier flinch. The soldier swung down his axe, but Seliph dodged it much easier than the last one.

"Hiiiii-yah!"

The enemy's head flew through the air.

Seliph didn't even bother to see where it landed, instead seeking out his third opponent.

He ran up to the first soldier he saw, and as the man turned around, he swung his sword...

And the fight was over in an instant.

When Seliph regained his senses, the Isaachian soldiers were already all defeated.

'I hope everyone's okay.' He looked around and searched for his friends, praying that they were alright.

He found Larcei first. Then Ulster. Finally, Lana came up from behind him.

Nobody seemed to be hurt, probably because Lana had a healing staff.

'Thank the gods…' With his anxiety gone, his body stopped shaking. He tried to relax his right hand, still holding his sword, but he'd put so much strength into it that it stayed stiff.

A moment later he heard the faint sound of horses galloping in the distance.

'Are they new enemies?' He took a deep breath and assumed a battle stance, but it turned out that he was wrong. It was actually Oifey's calvary unit that appeared from the dust cloud.

Oifey continued forward until he reached Seliph's side, then sighed. "We came back as soon as we heard that the Isaachian soldiers were making a move, however, we were still late. I apologize. But what's most important is that you're safe."

He still had some of his childish features from his time at Sigurd's side, but in ten years, his face had changed greatly, mostly due to the thin mustache now under his nose.

"I'm the one who should be sorry. I started the fight all on my own. But I didn't want the villagers to suffer."

"I understand. I should have been more careful. But since it's come to this, you must prepare yourself to fight. You aren't entirely ready yet, but neither are your enemies. They value making the first move over taking time to train their soldiers to be expert fighters.”

“So, what should we do?"

"We saw a group of Isaachian knights on the way back to the village. We will attack them after they have exited the forest. Then, we will take Ganeishire Castle in one fell swoop. Once that is done, we should first think about creating a solid base of operations.”

"Okay. Let's do as you say."

Among the members of the calvary unit was Lana's older brother, Lester. He was skilled with a bow, a trait he'd probably inherited from his father, Jamke.

He was a bit surprised to see his little sister on the battlefield. "You fought too, Lana!?"

"Yes I did, brother! I was really worried about Lord Seliph."

Her reasoning was completely different from what she'd said before.

She only realized the meaning of her words after she'd spoken them, and it made her cheeks turn bright red.

Lester also seemed to understand, as he didn't say anything more.

Seliph's army (if it could even be called that, as it was an extremely small group of people, made up of only the villagers that said they wanted to fight with him) took no time to rest before leaving the village. They decided to wait for the Isaachian soldiers in front of a basin on the path to Ganeishire Castle. The infantry stood in front of the basin, and the cavalry unit hid in the shade of the forest a short distance away.

“When the enemies exit the forest and enter the basin, the cavalry unit will rush them. Once we’ve cut through their ranks and broken up their formation, the infantry unit will strike. The cavalry will immediately turn back around, and altogether, we'll attack them on both sides."

That was Oifey's strategy.

As the enemies appeared from the road in the forest, Seliph's infantry soldiers spread out in a horizontal line, in plain sight.

There were about fifty people among the enemy's ranks. Most likely because Seliph’s group was so small, they ignored the fact that they were on disadvantaged terrain, and retained their double column formation as they continued to advance.

As Seliph watched the distance between his group and the enemy shrink, Seliph's instincts as a warrior began to take over once again.

He suppressed the urge to attack right away, and made sure to keep his voice calm as he called out to his allies. "Wait until Oifey's calvary attack!"

When all the Isaachian soldiers had entered the basin, the calvary estimated that their enemies could no longer retreat back into the forest, and showed themselves.

The enemies knew that it was the disorder of their formation that caused them to lose their composure.

Oifey's cavalier unit began their attack. Galloping down a gentle slope while assaulting an infantry unit from the side was a formation so perfect for calvary that it was like a dream come true.

"Now! Chaaaaarge!" Seliph yelled, and started running.

"Raaaaaagh!" Everyone shouted, and followed after him.

The power of the cavalry unit's impact was their speed. The infantry's meager resistance had no effect in the face of that impact, and within the blink of an eye, the enemy army was in shambles.

Once Seliph and the infantry assailed them, the enemies were no longer a single unit. They now had to fight on their own, so the difference in numbers was no longer an issue.

Then, Oifey's unit, which had pulled back, charged once more.

Within minutes, the enemies were decimated. Those who ran away were chased after by the calvary.

Seliph raised his blood-soaked sword high in the sky towards the heavens, and shouted as their victory cry, "To Ganeishire!"

Everyone raised their swords, and joined in. "To Ganeishire!"

The liberation army turned in the direction of Ganeishire and started to march.

They would continue to shout from time to time, sounding as if they were all drunk.

"To Ganeishire!"

Along the way, they saved several villages being pillaged by the Isaachian soldiers.

When the villagers expressed their gratitude, the liberation army always gave the same response. "To Ganeishire!"

And when they heard it, the villagers would join in. "To Ganeishire!"

Also, many of the young villagers joined the army.

The closer they got to Ganeishire, the more and more their numbers grew. Their new members were not only villagers, but also people from distant countries wishing to dedicate themselves to Seliph's army.

Among them was Fee, a pegasus knight from Silesse searching for her brother, and Arthur, a mage from Alster who'd run into the army while looking for his sister. They'd both heard rumors about Seliph, but actually just seen that someone was raising an army, and decided to join because it was a liberation army. The army didn't have any other members that could fly in the sky or use magic, so Fee and Arthur’s powers were considered very special.

Ganeishire Castle was guarded by General Harold, who received his orders directly from Danan, the King of Isaach. However, because he'd sent so many soldiers to attack Tirnanog, he didn't have many left. The liberation army surrounded the remaining soldiers at the castle, who were drained of their morale when they saw the great numbers they were up against.

The liberation army started to attack the castle, but only task to give them any trouble was tearing down the castle gate. The moment Oifey's calvary charged, the castle's soldiers surrendered. General Harold was the only one to fight, but he met his end at the tip of Oifey's lance.

Seliph was a bit behind Oifey. He tried to enter the main building, but Lewyn was waiting for him in the entryway.

"It's nice to see you again after such a long time, Seliph."

"Yes, nice to see you too, Lewyn... I mean, King Lewyn of Silesse."

"As I've said in the past, please stop calling me king. Silesse was taken over by the empire, and my mother went down with it, her pride still intact. I live in shame of what happened, but I am now as I was long ago, a stupid bard. I don't know what Oifey's told you, but don't call me a king, or anything of the sort."

"I understand, Lewyn. I’m sorry."

"It's okay to you make a mistake sometimes. Anyway, the many events that we’ve been waiting a long time for have finally begun."

"But it was not by my power. Things just happened this way…"

"Is that really true? Seliph, try looking out over the balcony."

"The balcony? What could possibly be there?"

"You'll know the moment you get there.”

Seliph nodded and climbed the stairs to the balcony.

The garden directly below him was filled with his allies. A number of them noticed him, and shouted, "Seliph! Seliph!"

"They're cheering for you." Lewyn, who had followed behind him, said.

Seliph raised his right hand into the air in response, and everyone cheered some more.

"Seliph!"

"Long live Seliph!"

"Looong live Seliiiiiiiph!"

Each time Seliph raised his arm, they cheered for him. They didn't seem to have a limit, so once he figured he'd been there long enough, he stepped away from the balcony.

"So, what did you think of that?" Lewyn asked with a grin on his face.

"What did I think? I’ve hardly done anything, and they all got that excited!? Shanan is the prince of Isaach, so I think he's the one they should really be cheering for."

"Unfortunately, Shanan went to the Aed Shrine to search for the Isaachian royal family's Divine Blade Balmung. But I want you to try really thinking about why they're cheering for you."

"..."

"This is not a fight against King Danan of Isaach. Nor is it your fight against Arvis."

"..."

"They're rising up against the empire's tyranny. As the one who founded the liberation army and became its central figure, they must have cheered for you because they sensed that you are the one who did all of that work."

"But I'm still so young! The leader of the liberation army should be you, Lewyn. You know a lot more than I do, so I think you are much more qualified."

"That's not true at all. You know too that you are the only one who can do it, don't you? But more important than that right now, is the request I have for you."

"What is it?

Lewyn didn't answer, instead turning around. "Julia, come here."

A young woman appeared in response. She had lavender hair, and gave off a sense of a mysterious beauty.

"I saved her as a child when the city of Belhalla fell. Tragically, she seems to have suffered a horrible shock, and lost all of her memories. Until now, she's been taken care of in a remote region of Silesse, but I was told that the empire somehow found her hiding spot, so I've been taking her everywhere with me.

"I must leave for Leonster soon, and it would be too much trouble to bring her with me, so can I leave her in your care for a while?"

"Yes, of course! I'll protect her in your absence."

"By the way, now that you've raised an army, you can't stop for long. The empire will soon send a huge army out to get you. You should conquer every region of Isaach first. If you do that, then the Aed Desert will provide natural protection."

"But I want you to support me through that. Please stay here and help me.”

"Don't worry. Once you've taken Isaach's main castle, Rivough, I'll come back." Lewyn promised, then stood up and left.

'He's just like the wind.' Seliph thought.

#fire emblem #fe #fe4 #genealogy of the holy war #seliph #neon genesis evangelion #gen ii #nintendo #super nintendo #snes #famicom #super famicom #japan #japanese #translation #localization #light novel #fe4 suzuki novelization translation

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echoes-of-the-clockwork · 5 years ago

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Book Two: Famine (Prompto x Reader) Chapter Seven

A/n: It's been a while since I've played Episode Prompto so I wanna apologize for any mistakes!

I DO NOT OWN ANY IMAGES OF GIFS USED IN THIS SERIES! ALL RIGHTS GO TO THEIR RESPECTED OWNERS!

Hope you all enjoy! Love you all!!! ••••••••••••••••••••

Several days have passed since Prompto and (Y/n) fell off the train. They trudged through the snowstorm they were currently trapped in. Prompto, in the warm clothes he found in the abandoned house, turned to Famine every now and then to check on her. Unlike him, she didn't have warm clothes and refused to take his jacket when he offered it to her. "(Y-Y/n), are you okay?" His teeth chattered as he waited for her to catch up.

She had her arms wrapped around her in a desperate attempt to fight off the cold. "Y-Yeah. W-We need to f-find shelter." She thought about summoning Limos, but the horse would be of no help in the blinding snowstorm. She tried to use her own magic to keep them warm, but she was too weak due to the cold. The feeling of hypothermia was setting in and she could feel her body becoming numb.

Prompto saw her struggling to move and trudged through the thick blanket of snow to reach her. After taking a few more steps, he begins having great difficulty just remaining on his own feet. He covered his face when another powerful gale of wind whipped around them. He heard a soft 'thump' and lowered his arms. (Y/n) had collapsed in the snow, her body becoming enshrouded with the white, frigid substance.

"No..." Prompto weakly muttered as he forced his body to fight through the strong wind to reach her. After barely making it a few steps, he gasps and collapses to his knees. He managed to get back up, continuing to shuffle towards her collapsed body.

"What a way to go," he mumbled before collapsing face first into the snow with a weak grunt a few feet from (Y/n).

As the elements continue their relentless assault upon him and the Horseman, his vision begins to fade. He feebly reaches out towards (Y/n) but stops when his last speckle of strength fails him. Prompto looks up to see imperial soldiers jumping down into the snow from drop ships above. The soldiers stand over the two, examining both of them as Prompto's body succumbs and his awareness fades.

<----------<<<<<<<<<<<

Prompto awakens laying face down on the floor in a research lab. He grunts, looks around him, and slowly gets up onto one knee. Glancing down, he realizes the bracelet he wore to hide the barcode on the back of his right wrist is missing. "It's gone." He stands up and looks around the large room. "What... What is this place?"

Azure eyes scanned the room further. He felt his heart racing when he didn't spot (Y/n) anywhere nearby. "(Y/n)?"

A deafening Silence was all he received in response.

He searched his pockets for the summoning orb, but he couldn't find it. "Where'd it go?" He checked his pockets once more before exploring the room in search of the yellow artifact. His heart rate skyrocketed when he couldn't find the orb.

Upon inspecting a control panel beside a closed set of sliding metal doors, Prompto lays his right hand on the panel. A feminine automated voice begins speaking over the loudspeaker.

Scanning production code.

Prompto gasps and looks around him, startled at hearing the computerized voice. He takes a step back as the automated voice continues.

Unit 05953234 confirmed.

The metal doors before him slide open. Prompto looks down at his barcode. While staring at the back of his wrist, the voice speaks once more.

Warning: this unit has been compromised. Initiating retrieval of compromised unit.

Prompto stumbles further back. "What's going on?"

Suddenly, Ardyn's voice mockingly chimes in from behind the boy. "She still remembers you, after all these years."

The blonde swivels on his heels to turn and face the chancellor. "You..." He tries to conjure his handgun, but nothing appears. Bewildered, he looks down at his hand. "What gives?"

As Ardyn walks toward Prompto, he pulls out the confused boy's handgun and waves it aloft. "We can't have you spilling blood here. I do believe this is yours, as well." Prompto takes a step back as the velvet-haired man held out his other hand and showed him the summoning orb. The boy's eyes widen and he lunges to grab the object, but Ardyn swiftly withdraws his hand. "Ah-ah. Not yet."

Prompto glared daggers at the man, fists clenched by his sides. "Where is she? If you've hurt her-!"

"Tis quite spellbinding to torture an immortal. No matter how immense the wound, her healing abilities never cease," Ardyn taunted. "A Horseman among the Magitek Infantry. Quite a force the empire will have on its side, don't you agree? Although to most this compound is known only as the First Magitek Production Facility, birthplace of the myriad magitek troopers and daemons the empire holds dear, to you this place should have some sentimental value. After all, it is your home sweet home."

Prompto's expression becomes intense. His voice lowers as he snaps at the chancellor. "Shut up."

"I'm not the one who almost killed you. You're fortunate your Horseman was around."

"You're wro-"

Ardyn suddenly lets Prompto's gun turn upside down over his finger and shoves its handle against the sharpshooter's chest. He reaches up to grab it and the chancellor releases it into his hand. Ardyn then takes a step back and tosses the summoning orb to him. He easily catches it, eyes still glued to the velvet-haired man. "You really ought to take a rest." He continues to take a few steps back. "Perhaps the estimable Chief Besithia will help heal that broken heart of yours with your dear (Y/n) currently in dispose."

"Who the hell is that?" Prompto hissed.

"Oh, how quickly they forget. But fear not: I've no doubt a reunion would refresh your memory." Ardyn turns and begins walking away.

Prompto raises his gun and points it at the man's back, but he's already vanished. He lowers and holsters the gun before turning his attention to the summoning orb. "I'm gonna find 'em and you, (Y/n)-wherever you are. Just hang on." He leaves the room and begins his trek through the facility.

After rounding the corner of the hallway outside the room, Prompto spots a magitek trooper at the other end of another hallway. With his pistol, he takes out the MT and disposes of the body.

Proceeding through the sliding doors at the end of the hall into a shorter one, Prompto finds windows to his left overlooking a large open room filled with many dormant magitek troopers. "Shit... Was he telling the truth about this place?"

Walking into an even shorter hallway, he spots another magitek trooper at the end. "I can't let them find me." Using stealth, he took out the single enemy before pushing forward.

Upon approaching a staircase leading to the next area, Prompto felt a chill shoot down his spine. "Everything about this place gives me the creeps." He grips the summoning orb in his palm, staring down at his clenched fist. "Wherever you are, (Y/n), I'm gonna find you."

Proceeding further, Prompto is confronted by two more MTs. He crouches down behind a metal crate, hiding from the assailants and gripping his pistol. He took a deep breath before sighing. "I can do this." With precision, he took out both adversaries without an issue.

Making his way out of a large room, Prompto travels a short way down a hall, passes through some sliding doors, then exits the facility onto a snowy cliffside overlooking a mountain range. After a brief walk down the path, Prompto was forced to enter the facility once again through another pair of sliding doors. Once making his way down a lengthy hall, he finds himself in what appears to be a workplace lounge area.

When Prompto attempts to exit the room through the sliding doors opposite those he came in through, he's immediately greeted by a magitek trooper axeman crackling with leaking energy. The adversary swings its weapon at Prompto, who catches it by its haft, sending him over backward with the MT on top of him. The marksman is able to shove the magitek trooper off him, at which point its physical deterioration reaches critical. The machine breaks down and dies while Prompto gets back to his feet. A moment later, the automated voice from before speaks.

Target detected. Eliminate immediately.

"I can't take this anymore," Prompto whined. He meanders down the next hall, the automated voice speaks once again.

Commence elimination of compromised unit.

Prompto enters another large open room similar to the one he passed through before his exit onto the snowy cliffside from earlier. He makes his way through the room and several MTs enter. "Let's do this," Prompto said.

After eliminating all the MTs in the room, Prompto reaches a circular passageway closed by metallic petals that originate from along the perimeter of the circle and meet at its center. A small control panel similar to the one he activated after waking up earlier sits beside the entrance to the passageway. He looks down at his barcode, grits his teeth. and places his wrist over the control panel. Like before, passageway opens.

"...Lucky me," Prompto chuckles melancholically.

A moment later, the blonde speaks his thoughts again. "What the hell am I?" His thoughts raced to (Y/n). He's finally found someone who loves him and someone to love. He feared he would lose her once she learned the truth about him. In his mind, he mentally prayed to the Astrals she would never leave him.

After making his way down the newly opened passageway, Prompto enters a room containing several large glass cylinders, each holding a human figure resembling him. Fear courses through his veins as he eyed the humans inside the test tubes. "How could he do that? Who... What am I?"

A loud, painful scream echoed throughout the room. Prompto's head snapped in the direction it came from. He makes his way up the stairs at the back of the room and finds himself looking through glass into another room. It was also filled with more glass cylinders containing figures that resemble him. There were also MTs laying on the floor, seemingly dead while a few others stand dormant along the perimeter of the room.

"Is somebody in there?" Prompto's eyes narrowed as he searched the room safely from behind the glass. Verstael Besithia and Ardyn are in the room, seeming to be chatting to one another. "Deep breaths..."

Prompto sneaks up closer to the glass and notices something else in the room. It was a cage with barriers as bars. They pulsated a sinister red and he recognized who was trapped inside. "(Y/n)." His eyes widen as he stared at her. He noticed whenever she tried to summon her sword or use her magic, the cage would send a bolt of electricity through her body and she'd cry out in pain. He felt his heart ache every time she screamed.

His attention was torn from the Horseman when he heard Ardyn talking to Verstael. "My friend, do you recall the child who was stolen from this facility?"

Verstael's back faced the glass as he responded. "The one those Lucians absconded with?"

"Precisely. I thought you might like to see the fine young man he's become these twenty odd years later. So, as thanks for bringing your pets to Insomnia, I've brought the boy to you." The chancellor suddenly turns toward the glass where Prompto is watching from. "The time has come to meet your maker. Any questions for daddy dearest? Father and son! Oh, how I love bringing families together."

Prompto shook his head. "No... It's not true. You're wrong, dammit!" He makes his way through a doorway at the end of the room into another lounge area. "I don't care what he says. This place will never be my home. My "home" is in Lucis-not here."

While Prompto searched for a way into the room, Ardyn sauntered over to the imprisoned Horseman. "Now, my dear, what shall we do with you?"

(Y/n) crossed her arms with a glare. "I will not become a part of any sinister plan of yours."

"Oh," Ardyn chuckled darkly. "I'm afraid you've no say in your fate. Ta-ta for now, (Y/n)."

Famine slammed a fist against the barrier as she watched the chancellor vanish. She gritted her teeth as she trained her glare onto Verstael, watching the Starscourge eat away at him. Before she could snap at the old man, the door opens and Prompto enters the room with his pistol raised. Her eyes widen in hope when he saw him. "Prompto..."

"What's the matter? Have you never seen a man turn before?" Verstael questioned the blonde, his back turned to him. He turns to face Prompto, the right side of his face becoming daemonic. "If those Lucians hadn't intervened, you could have turned, too."

"Why me?" Prompto demanded, his voice shaking slightly.

"Because you were cloned from this genius's genes, born of my own flesh and blood. You are but one of millions created to serve our great empire in the magitek infantry."

"Created... to serve you?"

"Yes-and now you've finally come home to Niflheim, my son."

Prompto fires his gun into the air. "Shut up!" He hangs his head, his gun still pointed aloft for a moment before letting it hang by his side. "You're wrong... I'm a Lucian!"

Tears begin to stream down his face. (Y/n) placed a hand against the barrier. Seeing him cry tugged at her heartstrings and she felt utterly useless knowing she couldn't break free and comfort him. "Oh, Prom..."

"I am not one of your experiments!" The blonde yelled through his tears.

Verstael begins slowly walking toward Prompto. "Not anymore. Now, you're nothing but a failure. I ought to return you whence you came. Perhaps then you might serve some useful purpose." The infected man reaches out towards the young boy.

"Never!" Prompto raises his gun and points it at Verstael, who chuckles maliciously.

He begins speaking with a daemonic echo and Prompto lowers his gun in horror. "With your help and the Horseman's, my ascension to divinity is now all but complete." He holds his right hand out and grabs the boy's shoulder. "Soon, neither the kings of Lucis nor the gods themselves will be able to challenge my reign!"

Verstael reaches out with his left hand and grabs Prompto's face. The sharpshooter screams, raises his gun, and fires. A cloud of dark smoke emerges from where his shot pierces the man's chest. Verstael groans and falls onto his back. Prompto looks down at him in shock for a moment before dropping his gun and falling to his knees.

After a moment of silence, Ardyn's voice can be heard gasping in faux horror over the loudspeaker. "Look what you've done. You've gone homicidal-no, patricidal!"

"No..." Prompto muttered sorrowfully and in disbelief.

"You lose your friends, and murder your family. Now you've no one left!"

(Y/n) could hear every word. She repeatedly slammed her fists against the barrier and tried to summon her blade, but the cage shocked her. She cried at the top of her lungs as she collapsed to the bottom of the prison.

Ardyn begins chuckling as he hears the electricity zap the Horseman. "And now you'll lose the woman you cherish so deeply. You will truly be alone!"

"Shut up!" Prompto wailed as he urged his body to stand. He pushed his body off the floor and stumbled towards the cage. He placed his hands on the crimson barrier and stares at (Y/n)'s collapsed form, her breathing erratic and uneven. He sunk to his knees, his hands trailing down the side of the prison.

The chancellor's voice echoed throughout the room once again. "You've lost her!"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Prompto pounded his fists against the cage with every word. He hung his head, forehead leaning against the barrier as he felt more tears threatening to fall.

The automated voice that has been taunting him throughout the facility speaks again.

Vital functions decreasing. Plasmodium index activity increasing.

Prompto looks behind him at Verstael's body to see that it has now completely discorporated into the dark smoke that was rising from it, leaving empty clothing behind.

Daemonification complete. Initiating transfer to Unit XDA-1002: Immortalis.

The dark smoke from Verstael enters machinery at the center of the room; the lighting in the room turns red as the machinery begins to move. The room itself begins to shake. Prompto looks around him in confusion.

Suddenly, the roof caves in on the other side of the room, the body of an Iron Giant having fallen through from somewhere above. Standing atop the daemon's body was Aranea, her lance in hand and impaling the daemon. She lifted her gaze from the corpse and spotted Prompto. "You always play hard to get like this?" She hops down from the daemon's corpse and walks toward him.

"Aranea..." Prompto mumbled as she stalked towards him.

"Save it, Blondie. On your feet!" She grabs and pulls him to his feet. "Time to break this cage."

#final fantasy xv #final fantasy xv x reader #ffxv #prompto x reader #prompto argentum

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yukiwrites · 6 years ago

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True Feelings Hidden in a Dream

Thank you so much for commissioning me, @lightningbug-lane! This pairing was so good to write for, I didn’t want to stop! ;v;)b I hope you like it! ;D

Summary: The Black Knight and Azura -- two souls burdened by the weight of their loyalty. Two stoic people who apparently had nothing in common, down to the pure white of her dress in contrast to his pitch black armor. And yet, they found in each other a company greater than anything they’ve ever felt.

Commission info HERE and HERE!

The rainy season in Askr was not kind to its inhabitants -- otherworldly or not. The downpours would start as sudden as they would stop, to the point that it was almost impossible to predict when it would rain again, as the very air turned damp for the duration of the season.

The sun rarely came out from behind the clouds, and when it did, it would quickly hide itself again, giving the entire continent an air of dreariness.

Still, the Order of Heroes had no time to rest, despite the foul weather. The war against Embla raged on, the usually traversable terrain turning into large wetlands, troubling any kind of unit, regardless of their movement type.

Horses were slower due to the mud, so were infantry and armored soldiers -- the fliers, on their hand, could barely see a thing in front of them unless they flew above the clouds, but being that faraway from Kiran's orders could compromise any operation, so that was a rare occurrence.

"Soldiers are adaptable." Anna had said to Kiran more than once during the Summoner's moments of hesitation. "Don't be afraid to put your trust in their skills and they'll repay you by bringing results."

Trusting the Commander's words, Kiran -- alongside every single Hero summoned she summoned -- knew she had to get used to this strange weather if she were to help save Askr from its invaders.

It was decided, then, that the Heroes would go forth to their missions in groups of four, ideally of mixed movement types so they could aid each other traverse the terrain.

In one of such missions, Kiran dispatched the Black Knight, Azura, Olivia and Clive so they could aid in reclaim a fort taken by Embla a few days previous -- they would to stay on standby at the fort's secret exit so as to ambush any enemies fleeing from the front assault.

Due to the emergence of a far-reaching wetlands between their starting point and goal, no carriages would be able to carry them there. The middle ground was too unstable for a horse, so Clive took Olivia with him so they could circle the area while the Black Knight and Azura would go through the middle: they would arrive roughly at the same time due to their movement restrictions, instead of marching at a foot soldier's pace through the longer path to accompany the only mounted knight.

Once everything was set, they began their march -- Clive and Olivia through east while Azura and the Black Knight took the middle route.

Azura's pure white dress and stocking immediately got stained the moment she stepped inside the wetlands. Despite the water under their knees looking clear, the soft earth under it rose quickly with their heavy steps, turning it into mud.

They walked in silence for a good part of the morning, both of them quite comfortable with not talking and focusing on the task at hand. It was only when they reached a quarter of the way that the ground started to harden under their feet, and soon they were walking on (mostly) dry land as the sky threatened a heavy rain since the day before.

"Why, I imagine Sir Clive could have come with us, after all." Azura blinked as the Black Knight offered a hand for her to get out of the shallow water. She peeked over his shoulder to the long, long way they still had ahead of them. "There are only plains as far as the eye can see, from this point onward."

The Black Knight nodded, turning his back to the princess so as to keep the march. "The ground is still too soft for a horse, however; especially one carrying two riders." He put pressure on his next step, feeling it sink a bit under his heavy armor. "Clive made the right decision."

Azura hummed in response, slightly pressuring her feet, not finding the softness her companion demonstrated. She then noticed how the Black Knight's steps left heavy trails on the ground, whereas her soft, bare feet barely got dirty from the mud all around. "What a heavy burden it must be, to carry this armor," she whispered to herself, almost unable to imagine how hard it should be to even walk while carrying such weight, let alone fight under it.

Were his face visible, it would be able to discern his gaze falling on her before turning back to the march. "It is a burden I carry in order to fulfill the task given to me by the one who holds my loyalty."

"Oh!" Azura took one hand to her mouth, as though to stop herself from saying any more unnecessary things. "How uncouth of me to assume. Please, forgive me."

The Black Knight shook his head, dismissing Azura's apology. "There is nothing to forgive, princess. Although the armor is indeed heavy, there are other burdens I carry that are heavier still." His voice echoed inside his helmet towards her, the wind carrying it through the open plains.

Azura's hand inadvertently reached her pendant, clutching it carefully. "I can understand. Regardless of whom I bid my loyalty to," the princess let out a forlorn smile, remembering her long-lost cousin, "there are burdens I carry that no one but me will be able to understand."

He nodded, closing his eyes to breath in. For a split of second, he thought that the both of them could be similar in a way, but soon dismissed such egregious idea.

A princess, her steps so delicate they barely drew a sound compared to his heavy feet, had nothing similar to a man whose goal in life was to master and die by the blade.

Still, he couldn't deny that, out of the large majority of the Heroes he was paired with, marching alongside Azura felt the rightest -- she didn't mind the long draws of silence nor did she try to start any small talks to 'break the ice', as he'd heard on occasion. When they did talk, it felt neither forced nor unpleasant. Every time he was paired with her, he knew that he could focus himself wholly on the mission and that she would do the same for her part -- straight-forward and gracious as only she was.

Azura thought quite the same of her masked companion. Never once had she seen his face, but that hardly mattered during battle: he took blows meant for her and rained destruction with his Alondite from afar, making her task of supporting him almost an easy one. Besides, she enjoyed the silence as much as she enjoyed singing on her own, so being paired with him was always a great time to put her thoughts in order -- because she knew he wouldn't disturb them.

What would disturb them, however, would be the sudden downpour.

"Oh, my!" Azura let out a weak 'eek' of surprise once the cold droplets turned into large showers over her skin. "I suppose we should have seen it coming."

The Black Knight breathed out, squinting to see through the thin eye-slit of his helmet. There weren't any trees for them to take cover under, though that was beside the point -- they knew it would rain one moment or another, and their timed mission didn't allow for any stalling, foul weather or no.

Both of them knew as much, so they simply kept walking as the ground turned more and more muddy under them. "I see now what you meant earlier, Sir Black Knight." Azura wiped her eyes to avoid the large droplets of water from falling on them, ultimately deciding to adjust her tiara so it would cover more of her forehead. "Sir Clive would have gotten stuck here if he had come with us."

He blinked, struggling to see clearly -- the rain was coming down so hard one could barely see their own hands stretched out in front of them -- due to his helmet's limitations. He sighed deeply, unwilling to unmask himself in front of someone, but soon remembering that Azura didn't hail from his home world: hiding his identity in front of her meant nothing.

"Watch your step, princess. We are about to witness the birth of a wetland." He said as he sharply took the helmet off, shaking his head once his face finally got out of that stuffy air.

"Oh, my. Sir Black Knight!" She blinked in surprise, taking a few steps forward so as to finally look at her companion's face. However, a thought soon dawned on her. "Ah, how thoughtless of me! I suppose it would be rather hard to see while wearing such restraining helmet."

He slicked his hair back so it wouldn't get onto his eyes, "faraway we are from our target, we cannot let our guard down -- I would rather reveal my identity than putting you at risk for not being able to see the enemy coming."

Azura placed her hand over her mouth, feeling her cheeks warming in response. "How dashing," she smiled, the sound of it bringing one to the knight's lips. "Then, allow me to repay your thoughtfulness the same way." She took a deep breath and close her eyes.

The unmasked knight tilted his head to the side, watching as the princess lifted one hand overhead.

Oh, Aqua! ♪

From a sacred prayer to our connection with life ♫

Please bestow upon us your protection ♪

Oh, Aqua! ♫

Hide us within your breast, ♪

And allow us to walk amongst you! ♫

She sang in a peppy tune, her movements flowing like the water all around her. As she danced, the raindrops followed close behind, further and further away from her.

Soon all the water falling above their heads danced all around her instead, making only the area around them dry and safe for them to walk on -- and see in front of, as well.

The knight watched, mesmerized, as the rain seemed to avoid him as he walked. "Princess," he began once she walked back to him with her soft steps, her pendant glowing by her chest.

"Please, call me Azura." She smiled softly, clutching on the pendant so it wouldn't float. "It doesn't feel right to be called by an alias while looking at the real face under the helmet."

He felt the smile widen by his lips, unused to the sudden warmth washing over his chest. "Azura, then." He said, his voice now clearer than ever, without the helmet's echo nor the rain's noise to muffle it. The princess felt something tingling at the edge of her body, as though she could simply drop her head on his shoulder, close her eyes and be safe. Truly, rightfully safe. "Thank you, Sir Black Knight." She said without barely thinking it, as though the simple act of hearing her name by his unclouded voice were a gift she would hold close to her heart.

He closed his eyes for a moment, the bubbling sensation in his chest gaining shape when it reached his throat. "Zelgius." He said in a huff, their steps never failing to march. "The man under the helmet is called Zelgius."

"Zelgius," she tasted the name in her lips, licking them right after. "Thank you, Zelgius. For telling me your name."

The knight looked ahead, an almost self-deprecating smirk growing at the corner of his mouth. "I should be thanking you for the gracious display, Azura. Think nothing of the name of a masked man."

The princess hummed in response, not realizing she touched his armored shoulder. Quickly she retracted her hand, enjoying the shy smile that teased itself on her face. "Worry not that I shan't call your name once you are back to being the Black Knight, Zelgius. For now, however..."

"Yes," he blinked slowly, wondering if the mission could be prolonged for a while longer, "for now..."

Over the course of the next weeks that soon turned to months, Zelgius and Azura felt themselves drawn to each other -- even outside any missions. Be it by coincidence or fate, they even went to the same places, as though one's presence there brought the other's.

As much as the princess longed to gaze upon his handsome face again, Zelgius didn't take his helmet off often -- hardly ever, honestly -- but the few times he did, he would make sure that they were truly alone lest someone from his world discovered his secret.

Their meetings really shouldn't be called as so -- they mostly enjoyed each other's presence silently. Sometimes Azura would release the feeling bubbling inside her chest as a song followed by a dance, turning them into private spectacles, almost. Zelgius would most surely take his helmet off during such occasions, so he could listen to her melodious and far-reaching voice with the most clarity he could.

It was as though her words seeped deep into his throat, towards his chest; like her delicate yet rough hands pressed themselves against his bare chest, digging further into his heart.

It was breathtaking.

The princess felt the same turmoil inside of her, knowing her heart beat more wildly by her chest whenever she thought of or spoke with him. Even her eyes felt light, wanting to simply close themselves and give her entire being to his unbreakable defense; to the surely strong arms that rested under his dark armor.

The topic of her control over water sprang up one day, making her clutch her pendant with both hands as they waited the rain out under a tree. They weren't in a mission, no, they were simply taking a walk a ways of the castle when the rain started, catching them by surprise.

Immediately did the knight take his helmet off, as though the rain were an excuse for him to look clearly at Azura. He noticed how serious her gaze became as she looked nowhere in particular, her hand never letting go of the pendant.

"I suppose I have been feeling so... uncharacteristically happy lately that I almost forgot the weight the burdens related to these powers carry."

Zelgius felt the brand on his back almost burn, his expression mirroring Azura's. "I cannot say I do not feel the same." He tentatively looked at her, somehow never wanting to tear his gaze away from her graciousness.

"Once my role in this world ends, I will have to fulfill my true calling," she turned to him, her body being drawn to his cold armor -- to his warmth under it. She hesitantly reached to his face, longing to feel his skin. "The calling to live under a curse that might either seep me of my life or wash it with salvation." She said bitterly, and Zelgius knew that whatever waited for her back home would most likely result in her death, much like his own fate back in world.

"I suppose we indeed are more like than I thought." He whispered, taking a step towards her, allowing her thin fingers to brush through his wet hair. Closing his eyes to finally enjoy her touch, he slowly took her hand on his, the clunk of his armor a distant sound tingling his ears. "I, too, discovered a side of myself I never thought existed -- by being by your side."

Azura could feel his free hand sliding from her waist to her back, pulling her closer to him.

Ahh, the visceral need she had to rest her head on his shoulder; to allow herself to be simply a woman in the arms of a man who truly understood and supported her. She felt her heart beat in sync to his, feeling his shallow breath on the tip of her fingers. "Zelgius..."

He brought her hand to his cheek, holding it over his face as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to break down the walls he had built around his heart -- so its full, raw force could thump inside his chest and bring him the elation he only felt whenever Azura's eyes were on him.

"I have a duty I must uphold in my world, as I carry the burden of the mixed blood within me. They are what define me as a soldier, devoted to the blade from the moment I could wield one." He tilted his head to her hand, enjoying how she tangled her fingers through his hair. "Yet, what defines me as a man stands right in front of me." He opened his eyes, piercing his gaze into Azura's.

She felt the breath leaving her body, opening her mouth to reply.

Zelgius squeezed his hand on her back, a silent plea for her not to speak. "I must confess that I lack the experience needed to put a name to this feeling; however, for the first time in this existence of mine, I shall let my heart speak for me." He finally brought her to the closest he could, longing to feel her body on his, away from this restrictive armor. "I love you, Azura. Most fervently." He huffed, his heart thumping by his chest like never before.

The princess felt her eyes welling up with tears, her lips trembling. "Oh, Zelgius!" She pressed her forehead on his chestplate, weeping softly. "Do I have the right to feel this happiness while the one who holds my loyalty fights? How long can I allow myself to hold you and make you mine before I decide to shirk away from my duty?"

The knight finally, finally caressed his beloved's soft, long and wet hair, wanting to rid himself of his gauntlets so as to feel its sleekness on his skin. "This world is not our own -- it feels as though we are in a dream." His low voice reverberated through his armor right into Azura's body, making her legs go weak. "Will you not enjoy this short-lived dream alongside me, Azura?"

Warm tears flowed from the princess' eyes, Zelgius' soft touch on her chin making her lift her teary gaze to him. "We might finish our roles here any day, now. Next month; next week... Tomorrow, even." Her voice cracked, her body wanting so very much to be held by him, her feet stood on their tips. "Still, will you have me, my knight, my... Zelgius? Will you be mine for as long as this dream lasts?"

He closed in as she spoke, their breaths intertwining. "Even another hour in your presence, Azura," he brushed his lips on hers, his eyes on the verge of closing so as to enjoy her taste, "will be enough to drive me to go on through the battlefield that plagues my life."

"Oh, Zelgius..." She whispered before the impending kiss, their lips a perfect fit on each other. His roughness with her softness; their drenched bodies under a faraway tree, becoming one.

Their kiss started timid -- neither of them had experience in that regard, after all -- but soon they started exploring each other's mouths as Zelgius supported Azura after her legs gave out. She wrapped her arms around his neck, digging her nails on his scalp (finally she could feel it; caress it!) as he bent over towards her, exploring her semi-nude back with his gloved hands.

It was a strange yet overwhelmingly wonderful experience, to be held by someone they've longed the touch of for so long. Zelgius could feel his senses heightening and dulling at the same time: he was hyper-aware of their surroundings, yet overly conscious of how much force he should use so as not to hurt Azura in contact to his armor. He felt his increasingly hot body crave for hers, wanting nothing more than to embrace her and never let go, for as long as their dream lasted.

The dream of being accepted, of being understood, of being touched and touching in return. The dream he never thought he dreamt before he had met her, and yet the dream he saw most fervently each and every night after.

His mind and body had always been focused on mastering the blade. Her heart and soul had, from childhood, embraced the bleak future that awaited her. Both of them were certain their hearts wouldn't be fazed by anything, and yet...

Yet their bodies matched so well. Their tastes felt so right. Their minds, ideals and views of the world, although different, complemented each other.

The moment their dream began, they realized. Under that heated kiss and promises of never again sleeping apart, they realized.

They realized that they would have to make a choice, in the near future: To continue living the dream and turn their backs to reality, or live knowing that the one will always hold a piece of the other. That they would never live a life as a whole again, no matter how short-lived it would be.

They would have to make that choice -- tomorrow, next week, next year -- for as long as that sweet and binding dream lasted, they would live with these thoughts. However, for now… For now, they were the man, Zelgius and the woman, Azura.

Their duties at the back of their minds, they would, for the first time in their life, throw themselves to the unknown that it was following their hearts -- together, hand in hand.

#zelgius #azura #zelgiura #fire emblem heroes #fanfic commissions #fe heroes #my writings #Yuki's Commissions

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warsofasoiaf · 6 years ago

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Hergrim and the Westerlands Campaign, Pt. 4

The Lycian Way, or probably smarter to say the earlier part of the Achaemenid campaign (since the Lycian Way is actually a road now), is one of the examples where we get the trope of the young commander using unconventional movement to cover great distances without observation, but now that I think about it, Sogdian Rock might be a better example, dramatically similar even if radically different in objective and intent.

Assuming you were thinking of the march from Phaselis to Perge, I don’t think it was so much covering great distances without observation (since the distances weren’t all that great and the Thracian road builders must have been observed) as it was about changing the strategic situation. So far as I can tell, the only truly viable road for an army into Pamphylia was via Milyas and Termessos. Alexander first reduced Milyas, then looped around and built a better road through Mount Climax (the old road was apparently known as the “Ladder”, which suggests how arduous it had been) so that he could enter Pamphylia, secure the coast to prevent Persian reinforcements landing and then tackle Termessos as he headed towards Phrygia. His picked troops he sent along the shore during a natural break in the storm that allowed them to get most of the way past the watery hazards and threaten any force seeking to block the main army debouching from the pass.

Perhaps a better example would be Cao Cao’s rapid march through the Lulong Pass, a disused mountain pass which, although once containing a frontier road, was little more than a track at the time and thus not considered viable. By marching with minimal armour and baggage, Cao Cao was able to exit the mountains, travel through Xianbi land (a nomadic tribe who were enemies of the Wuhan, allies to Cao Cao’s enemy Yuan Shang) and make some progress into enemy territory before they were confronted and a battle forced.

There’s a difference in that Cao Cao was able to move undetected for so long because he was traveling through lands hostile to his opponents, and he was discovered well before the 200 li the chronicles mention, seeing as that’s approximately where the battle took place (around 80km from Liucheng). Conceptually, though, they’re very similar campaigns insofar as movement is concerned.

Sorry, this was a mistake in communication on my part. I had meant that when Tywin was moving west, Robb could assemble his troops and unify them as a counter to your earlier point. I don’t think he would be so disunited and his troops tired when Tywin returns, given how much enemy territory Tywin has to march through.

Ah, I see what you meant. My counterpoint is that Robb still has to bring his followers together - and they’re spread over hundreds of miles - with quite excellent timing so that they’re assembled and in place to lead Tywin on a chase nearly as Tywin arrives, otherwise logistics becomes another factor. Timing is critical, and will still involve some kind of rapid convergence - if not the sprint I originally imagined - in order to balance logistical and tactical factors.

On thing that just struck me is that, assuming that Robb’s mostly ravaging the northern Westerlands in order to fight in the (relative) south, he’s cut off his own best line of retreat in the event that something goes wrong. It doesn’t have any bearing on the lead up to the battle, I just thought it was an interesting observation on how Robb has either been think or, conversely, hasn’t been thinking.

Sadly we’re back to the whole books vs. history thing. I have faith in Robb because it’s what he does in the books with Ashemark and the Crag. I’m personally in agreement, castle networks are phenomenal when it comes to having even small numbers of men disrupt the activity of a large force. It bugs me a bunch on pretty much every campaign save in the North, where the unfriendly locals and large distances soothe my heart.

Agreed pretty much 100%, I’m just saying that the storming of a castle is not necessarily indicative of a small garrison, let alone an under-strength one.

At the same time, we do see Tywin being maneuvered in a rather predictable fashion. Robb’s and Brynden Tully are unconventional movers, Tully has a great deal of experience given his tenure in the Ninepenny Kings, I think it’s feasible to get Tywin to bait Tywin into deploying suboptimally and him committing his reserve to bolster, with Robb using that opportunity to attack from an unexpected direction or split a line.

I don’t disagree that Robb could conceivably maneuver Tywin into a poor position - although I do think it’s less likely than the other way around, given that Tywin is on home soil, has access to far better intelligence thanks to the ravens and can have bridges broken as necessary to funnel Robb or slow his progress - but I don’t believe that Tywin would be hasty in deploying his reserves or, for that matter, that he would deploy all his reserves at once. Tywin is extremely cautious. He could have forced the Red Fork well ahead of his plan to do so, but spent considerable time (perhaps more time than he really had) probing the fords and, presumably, looking for a hidden trap. Even if Robb managed to bait Tywin into sending most of his reserves on a fool’s errand, Tywin could still keep back enough men to match any reserve Robb could hope to muster. Remember, he has at least a thousand more good cavalry than Robb in addition to some hundreds of poor quality cavalry and no compunction at all about spending the lives of the latter profligately.

I disagree that not finding out is so strange though. Robb isn’t sending his people south to make contact, and Jaime is on hostile soil which helps explain his intelligence gaps. He’s using his fast element to pacify resistance while his infantry settle in for the siege of Riverrun. It’s an absolutely stupid idea, but I think as Jaime is intended as a character to be reckless and stupid as a commander so that he can grow in the 3rd novel, it’s…serviceable.

I was thinking more in terms of Tywin than Jaime, since his scouts were in contact with Robb since before he’d even left the Neck. Jaime I can buy more or less regarding limited scouting and over reacting to the raid.

I’m honestly not sure that Fairmarket would be a thing at this point for Jaime. The city is a five-day trek east of the Whispering Wood, Jaime is heading north from Riverrun. He may have swung east to Fairmarket, certainly after that, I could see him wanting to rest his troops and seize materiel, but I think he hasn’t reached that far yet.

The Battle under the Walls of Riverrun probably took place some time just before Robb left Moat Cailin, based on the battle beneath the Golden Tooth being a little under two weeks before Robb leaves Moat Cailin. The Neck is somewhere around 270 miles long which, in light of the logistical difficulties of the Neck and the narrowness of the road, is probably 27 days of travelling. Add another five or six days (depending on speed) to get to the Twins. Call it 33 days to be safe.

That’s more than enough time for Jaime to invest Riverrun, including fortifying the camps and starting on pontoon bridges, and dispatch 1500-2000 men to take Fairmarket and establish a strong garrison there to keep an eye on the Freys and Mallisters, as well as to control the best crossing of the Blue Fork in that area, before Robb even reached the Twins.

Similarly, I don’t think the plan depended on all the cavalry being killed or captured, but the ground picked is pretty good for inflicting a high number of casualties and preventing them from fleeing south back to Riverrun. Moving them north across the Tumblestone and into a forested valley makes it difficult for the cavalry to retreat as a unit, as does attacking from multiple sides, especially to the south.

And what happens if there are stragglers or squires and baggage behind Jaime’s main force, along with a small protective detail? Jaime’s days out from Riverrun, and either his men and horses are going very hungry, he has detachments out on the flanks foraging or he has a slim baggage train?

That’s a bit of a rapid pace for an infantry. Without spending time on foraging, scouting, and establishing a camp (since Clegane has been burning much of that territory), though I guess with a forced march given the urgency I could see it. Tywin’s infantry are going to be beat, even with the rest day.

Agreed, it’s a fast pace. A more plausible is 10-12 miles when going through the ravaged territory and 12-14 miles through territory that is relatively untouched. I tend to use the maximum plausible speed where possible when trying to prove a point, just to show that even under ideal circumstances my point is still valid.

There definitely was damage done, if Lady Mormont driving herds of cattle back to the Riverlands is any judge. I will say, that’s one thing that bugged me about the books. Bypass the Golden Tooth, that’s fine, but how are the cows getting back. Ignore that both cattle drives and marching armies generate a great deal of dust, cattle are big and difficult to drive on hard terrain. *shrug*

The most likely route would seem to me to be up into the Westerlands salient and then across the hills into the Riverlands. The hills are probably marginal country used for raising sheep and cattle anyway, and I doubt Lady Mormont had more than one or two hundred men, so feeding men and horses isn’t the struggle it would be with a full army.

100% reciprocated boss. If I ever get a manuscript off the ground, you would probably be one of the first people I pay for editing.

Maybe not editing, but I’d be more than willing to help checking out the military elements.

Onward into the breach!

Oh, you misunderstand. It’s the depiction of it that gives Alexander one of the reputations of being this unconventional movement wizard. Cao Cao’s movement being exaggerated way before the 200 li is sort of the same effect. It’s a brilliant move, but heroic mythmaking makes it into something different entirely, and GRRM likes to use some of the heroic mythmaking for his fantasy story, which was part of my original point with the whole Birnam wood deal.

This is a weird thing because I get all sorts of conflicting information on the Westerlands-Riverlands northern pass, in impassibility and defense. Do the Westerlings control that stretch of land, can you drive an army column through it? Another reason why an atlas would be awesome.

Agreed pretty much 100%, I’m just saying that the storming of a castle is not necessarily indicative of a small garrison, let alone an under-strength one.

Noted, I’m just pointing out that the lack of sallies and trying to figure out why they didn’t utilize the castle network that they had.

Tywin is extremely cautious. He could have forced the Red Fork well ahead of his plan to do so, but spent considerable time (perhaps more time than he really had) probing the fords and, presumably, looking for a hidden trap.

I normally agree that Tywin is a cautious commander, but his notorious blind spot comes when Lannister dominance and supremacy (joined at the hip with his own) is challenged. The Clegane plot is evidence of that, he lucks out significantly in Robert not being around and Eddard capable of influencing him at court, and in Clegane attacking a royal banner at the Mummer’s Ford.

According to the PrivateMajor Timeline, Whispering Wood happens 22 Dec and Whispering Wood happens 9 Jan. Figure that Jaime spent some time resting his troops and investing the siege, and I think he doesn’t have enough time to hit Fairmarket.

I wouldn’t be surprised again if Jaime did go slim on the baggage train explicitly because he was said to be aggressively hunting down raiders and didn’t want to bother with such trivialities. I agree that if that was the case, it’s overegging the pudding, unless Jaime’s later chapters were going to have him get gritty with the baggage train metrics.

Maybe not editing, but I’d be more than willing to help checking out the military elements.

Yeah, that’s what it would be. An extra set of eyes never hurts, and it’d be useful to see the military elements from both trained and untrained eyes to better simulate different readers.

This is a good discussion, I hope the readers are getting as much from it as I am.

-SLAL

#hergrim #war of the five kings #submission

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edxnwood · 6 years ago

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3. GARDEN OF BONES

( red waste, essos )

DAENERYS HEARS A HORSE NEIGH, turning around to face a dark horse trotting up to them, a rider on its back, and she recognizes him as one of the three men she sent to find any source of food, water, or city. It was Kovarro, making his way back with a new, strong mare. "Jin vos sajo yeri," Dany says to him, looking down at the black beauty. (This isn't your horse.) Kovarro jumps off, landing hard on his feet, walking next to the horse and grabbing onto its reins, smiling. "Me nem azh anhaan ki Senthisiri — jin Fozaki Qarthoon," he beams happily that he was the one who found the city. (It was given to me by the Thirteen — the Elders of Qarth.)

"Zhey Qarth?" Dany raising her darkening eyebrows.

"Sen asshekhi tithaan, qisi havazzhifi." (Three days to the east, on the sea.)

"Hash mori vazhi kishaan emralat?" (Will they let us in?)

"Mori astish memori nem achomoe hash mori viddee Mayes Zhavvorsi." (They said they would be honored to receive the Mother of Dragons.)

( banquet hall, odin's palace )

Thor stands in the empty hall, bearing the signs of the festivities canceled due to the events of the day, and, with anger and frustration rising within him, he upends one of the massive tables. From across the room, Loki watches him.

( red waste )

"Mori astish memori nem achomoe hash mori viddee Mayes Zhavvorsi." (They said they would be honored to receive the Mother of Dragons.)

Dany turns to face Jorah, "What do you know of this place?" The older man rubs his fingers together, head bent, hand by his cheek as he answers. "Only that the desert around their walls is called the Garden of Bones." This gives Dany chills, the name frightening and she wondered if it truly lived up to its name. "Every time the Qartheen shut their gates on a traveler, the garden grows."

( odin's palace )

Thor, Sif, Loki, and the Warriors Three walk from the Palace, across the grounds, reaching a group of attendants who ready their battle gear for their journey, Loki slips away from the group, beginning to speak to a nearby guard. Hogun notices. "We must first find a way to get past Heimdall," Thor says to the group.

"That will be no easy task," Volstagg retorts, shaking his head. "It's said the Gatekeeper can see a single dewdrop fall from a blade of grass a thousand worlds away."

"And he can hear a cricket passing gas in Niffelheim."

"Jest not!" Volstagg says, smiling at his own little joke. "He heareth all!"

"Please," Fandral replies. "Getting past him should be simple enough now since he seems to be letting Frost Giants sneak by under his nose." In fear, Volstagg looks up at the sky and begins to shout out, "Forgive him! He meaneth no offense!" Loki rejoins the group as Thor leads them onwards.

( gate of asgard )

Thor and his band of adventurers, on horseback, pass through the massive Gate, leaving Asgard behind. They ride along the most astounding path in this Realm or any other. . .

( garden of bones, qarth's gates )

Qartheen soldiers file out of the city's gates, wearing the traditional clothing of the port, holding golden spears and shields, Dany looking at them in confusion. Why were they sending soldiers out? "I thought we were welcome," she looks over at Jorah, seeing his watch the small infantry with careful eyes. He averts his eyes towards her, understanding the people's motives. "If you heard a Dothraki horde was approaching your city, you might do the same, Khaleesi."

"Horde?" She looks back at her meager amount of men and women, the complete opposite of a horde. It was more of a club. Thirteen men in the traditional garb walk behind the soldier, who were all standing still, the white of their clothing clashing against the tan colored sand while the other nude colors went along well with the dull sand. One of them, the leader perhaps, walks closer to the Khaleesi, his hands clasped in front of him. "My name is Daenerys," Dany begins to introduce herself, about to say her title, but the man already beat her to it. "Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen," he finishes it for her.

"You know me, my lord?"

"Only by reputation, Khaleesi," he responds, moving his hands so they rested against either side of his stomach. "And I'm no lord, merely a humble servant. They call you the Mother of Dragons."

"And what should I call you?"

"Oh, my name is quite long and quite impossible for foreigners to pronounce. I am simply a trader of spices. But we are the Thirteen, charged with the governance and protection of Qarth, the greatest city that ever was or will be."

"The beauty of Quarth," Dany begins, "is legendary." The trader raises a finger, correcting her already, "Qarth."

"Qarth."

"Might we see the dragons?" The Spice King places his hands on his protruding stomach, carrying his head in an almost mocking manner, his lips pursing together as he watched Dany turn her head towards one of the horses, the three cages on and around his back sticking out. She looks back at the man, "My friend, we have traveled very far. We have no food, no water. Once I see my people fed, I would be honored —"

"Forgive me, Mother of Dragons," the Spice King throws his hands up, "but no man alive has seen a living dragon. Some of my more skeptical friends —" he looks over his shoulder at a few men — "refuse to believe your children even exist. All we ask is the chance to see for ourselves." Dany sighs deeply, wanting nothing more than to be sitting in a chair somewhere inside Qarth, her people fed and well-slept, all of them ready for a new day. "I am not a liar," she responds, shaking her head. "Oh, I don't think you are," the older man remarks. "But as I've never met you before, my opinion on the matter is of limited value."

"Where I come from," Dany begins, already pissed off at the men in front of her, "guests are treated with respect, not insulted at the gates."

"Then perhaps you should return to where you come from. We wish you well," the Spice King turns to walk back into his city, Dany following him, angry at everyone. "What are you doing?' She snaps, Jorah placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to protect his Khaleesi at any given time. "You promised to receive me." The king turns around, "We have received you. Here we are, and here you are."

"If you do not let us in, all of us will die."

"Which we shall deeply regret. But Qarth did not become to the greatest city that ever was or ever will be by letting Dothraki savages through its gates." He gives Dany a little bow before walking off, his followers turning around as he walks past them, all ready to go back inside. "Khaleesi, please be careful," Jorah scolds her, Dany breathing in deeply as she walks forth, the Mormont bear close at her heels as the Qartheen soldiers lean their spears forward. "Thirteen!" Daenerys calls out to them, the men turning back to her. "When my dragons are grown, we will take back what was stolen from me and destroy those who have wronged me. We will lay waste to armies and burn cities to the ground. Turn us away and we will burn you first." The Spice King holds up a finger, smirking down at the petite woman, "Ah. You are a true Targaryen. Only, as you said a moment ago, if we don't let you into the city, you will all die. And so —"

"Retreating in fear from a little girl is unbecoming of the greatest city that ever was or will be," a tall dark man steps forth, the highest and greatest one in the group. He towered over the people, overlooking their heads. "The discussion is over, Xaro Xhoan Daxos," the king before him retorts. "The Thirteen have spoken."

"I am one of the Thirteen and I am still speaking," Xaro says, and Dany begins to like him; only three people in her life have stuck up for her — Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island, Khal Loki of Asgard, and now Xaro Xhaon Daxos of the Thirteen. "The girl threatens to burn our city to the ground and you would invite her in for a cup of wine?" the Spice King draws in his brows, the dark-skinned man in front of his nodding as he gestures over to Dany. Daenerys doesn't like being talked about as if she wasn't there, but she remembers that this man was fighting for her right to get into the city, so she kept her mouth shut. "She is the Mother of Dragons," Xaro raises his eyebrows in question. "Do you expect her to watch her people starve without breathing fire? I believe we can allow a few Dothraki through our gates without dooming the city. After all, here I am, a savage from the Summer Isles and Qarth still stands."

"Our decision is final," the king remarks.

"Very well," Xaro takes a few steps towards Dany, but still keeps a great distance away from her and her people, smiling at her warmly. "I invoke Soumai." He takes a long dagger from the sheath at his right side, "I will vouch for her, her people, and her dragons in accordance with the law." Dany looks back at Jorah, not believing what she was hearing. Xaro drags the blade across his hand, raising it to show the white man before him the crimson liquid that was hanging around the cut, then turns it towards the other Thirteen. "Be it on your head," the king retorts, angry at Xaro. He walks up to the others, "Welcome to Qarth, my lady." Xaro gestures to the large gates, the group of men diving in the middle as the doors begin to open, showing sand-colored building with gold accents, palm trees towering over some, a port right in the middle of their line of sight. Dany smiles as she begins to march forth, her people following close behind her, pleased that their Khaleesi was able to get them a temporary home.

#Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#loki x daenerys #daenerys targaryen #Daenerys #daenerys stormborn #game of thrones #targaryen #game of thrones crossover #marvel

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chuckepisodes · 4 years ago

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Chuck vs. The First Date Part 4

"So, uh, what-what, uh, seems to be your computer problem?" Chuck asked Colt as you and him were surrounded by his men. "Here's the problem, Chuck. You saw my face and you heard my voice." " That's not a problem. That's not a problem at all. I forget things all the time. Ask my sister; I forgot her birthday. I forget my social security number. Just anything, ask me, I'll forget it." "And now, your pretty girlfriend has too." You and Chuck were looking at him strangely as he was stretching his arms. "What exactly are you doing?" you asked. " I'm stretching, getting limber." " Why are you doing that?" " So I won't pull a muscle when I break your necks. Maybe you should get limber, too." You and Chuck looked at each other and then walked towards the window. " Where you going? There's nobody here to help you. Oh, your friends, that's right. They're next on my "to do" list. See, you walked into a trap, Chuck... if that is your real name." Chuck all of a sudden smiled and looked at you and winked. " My name is Charles Carmichael. And this is my wife, Y/N Carmichael. We're CIA agents, and this is our trap. I don't think you gentlemen realize the gravity of the predicament that you're in. See, that phone call you made to the Buy More? Yeah, we traced that. Your compound is currently surrounded by 23 infantry troopers, 16 snipers, seven heavy gunners, four demolitions experts, and enough ammunition to orbit Arnold Schwarzenegger. You're outmatched and you're outgunned. Those peashooters you're holding might as well be sharp sticks and strong language." Some of Colt's men looked around, seeing if Chuck was right. "Nothing there, boss." " Looks clear." " Good try, Chuck." Colt said approaching you two. " Of course you don't see anyone." Chuck started. " Who do you think we are- the FBI?" you asked. " The only thing you're going to see is a muzzle flash, followed by an e-ticket straight to Hell. So make the smart choice and... why don't you hand over the Cipher?" Chuck said. Colt was about to attack Colt and Chuck had to stop him. " Wait, w-w-wa-wai-wait, wait, wait. I think that, uh... I think that you might want to hear this." Chuck then pulled out his phone to call Morgan. It was just a Call of Duty plan that they had but they don't know that. " Hey, Chuck." Morgan answered. "Hey, Morgan. I have Y/N here too." "Hey Y/N! Yeah, yeah, Chuck." "Morgan, I'd like you to tell me the exact specs for the team surrounding the compound." "The whole shebang?" "The whole shebang." "Yes, sir, we have 23 infantry troopers, 16 snipers, seven heavy gunners, and four demolitions experts. I should tell you I got a little impatient and we took out one of the sentries. Don't worry, it was a head shot. He couldn't warn his buddies. It was awesome, man, you should have seen it. His head exploded like a watermelon." "Thanks, Morgan." you said as Chuck hung up. The men began to look around again. "They must have got Fritz. I thought he was in the can." You and Chuck just smirked at Colt. " One more time. Give up." Chuck said. "They're either lying, or they're crazy. Check everywhere. Don't let anything get past you." Colt said as he walked past you both to look out the window. You and Chuck then looked at each other and ran. You grabbed the cypher. "Chuck that was so hot you being all in command like that!" you told him as you both ran. "Thanks baby!"

kept running till you felt like you were finally in the clear. But then all of a sudden Colt appeared right behind you both and you screamed while Chuck shouted. "Oh, hey! Don't move. Please, don't move." Chuck told him. But Colt just ended up pushing Chuck out the window. "Chuck!" you screamed. Colt climbed out the broken window and went after him. You went after Colt and tried to stop him but he just ended up smacking you and knocking you out. "Y/N!" Chuck shouted when he saw what happened to you. Colt was then in front of him and grabbed him by his feet and dragged him.

He now had Chuck dangling by his feet over a building once again. Sarah made it to the roof and saw you on the ground. She ran over to you first. "Y/N? Y/N...hey." You slowly woke up and saw Sarah kneeling in front of you. "Sarah?" "Yeah... you okay?" "I think so....Chuck! He's got Chuck!" "I know. Let's go."

You and Sarah ran and Sarah yelled for Colt to freeze. Colt turned and saw you both. "You know what? It's not worth it." Colt then dropped Chuck. "No!!!" you yelled, tears already in your eyes. Sarah was in shock. "Your boyfriend's dead now, baby. What you gonna do?" What you two didn't know was that Casey was at the right place at the right time, and caught Chuck.

Sarah approached Colt and began to fight and you joined as well. Sarah was slowly starting to train you so you knew some moves. And you were so angered about what he did to Chuck that you had to fight him too.

Casey appeared not long later, both you and Sarah were on the ground. "Freeze. Okay, enough with the foreplay. Step away from the blonde and the H/C. " Casey said approaching Colt. "Ah, you know you got to put that gun down. 'cause you're surrounded. Ain't nobody else here. Meet the rest of my men." Colt said as his men surrounded Casey. "Excuse me. Excuse me, hi." Chuck said , exiting a door, along with a whole team. "Chuck." you said relieved, with a big smile on your face. " Sorry to, uh... uh, sorry to interrupt whatever's going on here, but, uh, Mr. Colt, I just wanted you to meet my team. Tell me something. Do you find them imposing? Go ahead, you can be honest. I was going for imposing." "Chuck." Sarah said amazed. "Carmichael. Agent Carmichael. Maybe you could go ahead and put your weapons down. I said put your weapons down! Oh, there you go, there you- and then, and then the hands up to imply that your hands are empty." Casey grabbed Colt and cuffed him. " Your boss, Carmichael." " What?" Casey asked confused. " He's good." You and Sarah then approached him. "Don't worry, I- I-I'm fine." " Do you have the Cypher? Please tell me you have it. " Sarah asked. "Of course I have it. It's me." he said pulling it out of his pocket. Casey grabbed it and Sarah followed him out. You then looked at Chuck and threw your arms around his neck and Chuck instantly wrapped his arms around you. You buried your face in his neck, trying not to cry but Chuck could feel you shaking a little. "Y/N? You okay?" "No...I thought I lost you." "Hey...Hey baby. It's okay. I'm right here." You lifted your head and looked at him. He wiped away your tears and you smiled at him. "I love you." "I love you too." You then leaned up to give a loving kiss.

You were over at Chuck's house now. Chuck wanted to make you a home cooked meal. You were in the dining room getting everything set up while Chuck was in the kitchen. "You sure you can handle it?" Ellie asked him, stepping into the kitchen. " Yeah, yeah, I think I can do this, thank you. Plus, I've wanted to cook dinner for Y/N for a while, so..." " You have many skills, Chuck, but the kitchen is not one of them." " Oh, but that's why they call it Hamburger Helper. Hello, does most of the heavy lifting for me. I'm making that, uh, that chicken with balsamic glaze, the one thing Dad taught me how to make." "But Dad couldn't cook either." "Oh Ellie leave him alone." you said laughing a little as you heard the whole thing. "I love it that Chuck wants to cook for me." "Babe, you ready?" Devon said walking in." Mongolian BBQ beckons. Going for the record, Chuck. Seven pounds, shredded beef. I've been fasting." "Please, let me help you." Ellie said looking at Chuck. " The man has been on a hunger strike. Come on, go eat, I'll be fine." "You sure about that?" " Yeah. Yes, I'll be fine." "Plus I am still here if he really needs help Ellie." "Alright...Well good luck tonight you two. Have fun."

Later, you and Chuck were sitting at the table, eating your dinner and drinking wine. "This was a good idea babe." you said. "It was." Chuck then paused and looked at you. "Y/N I was thinking...Once this is out of our heads... What do you think about Europe?" "What do you mean?" "Just like, travelling all of Europe. Doing the Euro rail, backpacking...that sort of thing." "Chuck..." "I know. It's too much right? I was just thinking we would finally be free and-" "Chuck...Sweetie...I love it." "Really?" "Yes." All of a sudden there was a knock on the door. "Hang on one second baby." Chuck said as he got up and kissed the top of your head before going over to the door. When he opened the door, Sarah was standing there. "Hey, Sarah." "Chuck." You saw Sarah and walked over and stood beside Chuck. "Hey Sarah! What is it?" " I'm sorry to ruin your date but the Intersect was destroyed." "What? But the Cypher..." Chuck started. " It was a Trojan horse, a sabotage device. The moment it came online, it exploded." " But that means... " you started. "You're still the only Intersects. I'm sorry." Sarah then walked away and Chuck closed the door and looked back at you. "Well that kinda ruins everything doesn't it?" Chuck asked, sadness in his voice. "No. No this doesn't ruin anything. Is it horrible that this happened and we will be the intersects for a little longer? Yes. But Chuck I believe that that was not the only solution. We will get this out of our heads one day. I really believe it." Chuck smiled at you. You never cease to amaze him with your optimism and hopefulness. "What would I do without you?" "I hope you never have to find that out." Chuck pulled you into him and gave you a warm, loving, hug. You rested your head on his chest as he rested his head on top of yours.

So life wasn't going the way you both wanted it to right now but as long as you two had each other, you both knew you would make it through this.

#Chuck Series Rewrite #Chuck #Chuck TV Series #Chuck x Reader #Chuck Bartowski #Chuck Bartowski x Reader #Zachary Levi

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the-dreamer-traveller · 4 years ago

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Journey to the Back and Forth

This is a very long and detailed dream, so I will divide this into two different parts, Past/Present and Shinra Future.

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Past/Present:

I am traveling by the back of my own back. Carrying nothing but with a long slender sword for protection, a backpack filled with random supplies and a straw hat on my head, I would look more like any normal traveler in the Eastern Asian world. Currently, I am going to visit on a nearby village for some place to stay right now, as things are getting a bit more tiring for the moment.

As soon as I have arrived in the village, I notice that I have arrived in a tragedy far too late.

Although it is a village made of straw hut and wood and paper walls, the aesthetics bring more to my mind of the Japanese villages during the Feudal era. This creates a sense of familiarity and exoticism of the place, making it an ideal place for me to travel in.

The problem is that the whole village is razed, and dead bodies of what used to be villagers are scattered around the place. Men, women and children, no one was spared. Some of their bodies are mutilated without anything to recognize that they were actually human to be with, just piles of loose meat, flesh and intestines, charred bones and just stains in the walls and ground. The sight of these dead villagers is so gruesome and disgusting, I can’t help but recoil in disgust and sadness.

I calmly walk around the ruins of the village, looking at each passing corpse, intact or mutilated, and offer a short and silent prayer to each fallen. From a short, flattened paste of what used to be a person to charred bones of an unidentified person, likely a young man, I gave each and every corpse that I pass by with a prayer of comfort and sympathy.

The murderers seem to be a group of ruthless invaders, showing no mercy towards them. Considering on the aesthetics of the setting, it is possible that it sets somewhere in the time where the Mongols are trying to invade Japan, though this is more of a speculation. Where ever they are, their trails of footprints and strange dot-like ones that are best presumed to be horses lead to somewhere far away, probably to the next village or their own camp. Death and destruction might follow them where every they go, so it is best for me to just avoid it as much as possible.

Walking down the path of the grass and dirt, I came across what seems to be a set of ruins. It would look unappealing except that it resembles something straight from the modern times. This brought me to confusion, as I happen to have previous knowledge of different worlds due to the nature of the dream, so it made me curious to see a modern warehouse ruins in the middle of what is implied to be Feudal Japan.

Curiosity nudges me to check the ruins out. Holding on my bow, I silently slide down from the grassy slope and into the large rusty doors of the warehouse. Pushing the doors with my gloved hands, I found out that the place is mostly empty, with several white robed people standing in a circle around what seems to be a circular drawing made of white chalk.

The robes that they wear are figure obscuring, making anything that differentiates them from men and women difficult. The robes are very slim, yet conceals the physical identity, with light orange curved line markings on the bottom of the robes, antler-like attachments on the head and masks. They all look at me through the black eye covering markings in their masks. They have been waiting for my presence, but I have no idea why. As soon as I step in, some of them slowly part away to form a path that would lead me to the center of the circle, the object where they stood in.

I am quite cautious and suspicious, though they have no intentions on trying to advance towards me for their own agendas. Since a path is presented to me, I calmly walk straight into the circle, and stood in the center of the markings on the floor. Once it is done, the robed figures quickly kneel down to their knees and starts chanting with a language of unknown origins, possibly a ritualistic spell. I have no idea what is going on but before I could protest or speak, a bright light shines in my eyes and I can feel my body being transported into another dimension.

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Shinra Future:

Everything begins with a bright flash of light, but it slowly dies down until the reason for the white in my closed vision is the daytime sky. Once it isn’t a bit too bright, I slowly open my eyes and my jaw drops at the sight of it.

I found myself in the street level of a cyberpunk city, where tall commercial and residential buildings stood tall around. The sky is blue, but with a dark gray tint as a sign of a slightly polluted air or rainy or cloudy day. I stood on the middle of a concrete road, and it ends up revealed that I am in an intersect where cars would have been move around. The buildings are sometimes loading with advertisement, and there is what appears to be a very large factory in the far left view of my vision, where its ominous dark blue steel frame with a chimney spewing light gray smoke that rises up to the sky.

As I have mentioned, there should be cars around here.

But it isn’t.

After cutting off being dazed and amazed by the sights, I turn myself into the reality of the place. There are several cars that are parked randomly and chaotically in the street, sometimes being destroyed, burned in fire or already charred to blackness. There are random trash scattered around, mostly debris coming from the burned items or some holes and damages in the buildings. People are panicking, confused and scared on what is going on, sometimes going out to the other way just to stay away from any possible fighting. What used to be an intersect, there is now a very large and massive crater in the center of it, deep enough that some of the drainage and water pipes have been exposed and damaged, spilling contents into some parts of the crater. I could also see some random vehicles trapped or buried in the crater, and what seems to be a bus toppled to the side.

Dead bodies are present, but not that plentiful. All of them happen to be soldiers, Shinra soldiers nonetheless. Thick armored vehicles are parked around and some of the officers are seen directing civilians away from the crater and danger zone. Some of the soldiers are wearing identical outfits with the other instances of featuring Shinra grunts but there are also other soldiers whose outfits is a mixture of both Peace Keeping officer and a SOLDIER, resulting of men wearing black reinforced leather uniforms with completely face concealed helmets that only has an x-shaped visor that faintly glows red, while holstering high grade weapons on their back or hips (a possible hint that this might be an alternate universe).

My weapons are gone, but my lucidity is present. Instead of going berserk or try to exploit some chaos for fun, I decided to pretend to be more of a concerned, possibly frightened civilian, dazed on the confusion and missing out of what is happening right now.

I shyly approach to one of the black clad officers, who turn his back to notice of my approach towards him.

“Hey, officer. Is there a problem?” I asked shyly, uncomfortable in talking to a stranger even in a dream.

“Sir, you should stay out of this area as much as possible.” The officer calmly speaks to me, suggesting out of concern for a civilian. “We are currently fighting against rebels in here, and we don’t want a civilian like you should get hurt in the way.”

“Oh, is that why I see humongous mechas next to the department store in the crater?” I asked, pointing at a very huge mecha that is stationed idly in its place. It is very tall, about half of the taller commercial building that is placed next to it, and it is painted blue with white limbs and black hands. I stare in amazement when it is revealed that it is actually a military-standard mecha, and it has been used by even some of the basic infantry.

“Ah yes, that thing. Quite a beauty, isn’t it? Glad that we manage to manufacture it en mass so that we can have some more people piloting them.” The officer said, placing a hand on his right hand in a proud expression.

Mass produced military-standard pilot mechas are very common in this world or future, but were only to be deployed should the situation ended up becoming dire. It is impressive that a future like this can exist, more so when the whole place reminds me of Tokyo and a dystopia forming together, though it has a hint of an oppressive state due to a rebellion as the officer mentions. Nonetheless, this future is clearly of the technologically advanced ones.

After I have bid my regards to the helpful guard, going to other places where the conflict has less effect, so going to the area close to a wet market seems to be the best choice.

The wet market area is a stark contrast compared to the previous area. It has smaller buildings, which are far more inclined to the more modern ones, and the wet market is placed in the left side of the large street. Still, there are few people, probably from exiting shops around the place, and they avoid a fallen electric post. There are two soldiers next to the fallen post, assessing the damage that had happen.

I walk on the pavement while observing on the soldiers, who were near next to the police car of where they came. There is also another soldier, who is observing closely into the fallen electric post. With a clipboard in one hand, he is assessing the damage that the post has, with wires scattered around and some of them are slightly sparking. I am worried, as the live wires would be a hazard towards anybody.

Speaking of dangerous hazards…

As the soldier turns his back from the post, the live wires themselves suddenly spring to life and quickly snake towards the unsuspected soldier. He was shocked, literally, as the electricity flowing in the vines are still present and they wrap themselves around his limbs, electrocuting him on the way. As he screams in pain and fear, the wires pull him closer to the fallen pole and his back is slammed towards it. The live wire’s constraints is strong enough that he cannot break free, and he is dying in the spot as electricity fries everything in his body, causing him to scream in pain and drool saliva and/or blood and large, burned wounds appearing through the ripped and smoldered clothes before he drops dead and dies, with electricity still sparking from his burnt body.

I stare in shock, and everyone is panicking on the sudden attack of inanimate objects.

I shiver at sight of his dead body, now lying forcibly in the pole. Patches of his skin is burned and open, with blood, some of the trails already darkened, visible. His head remains limp, facing to the ground, and parts of his uniform have random rips, tears and holes, with the burn marks visible in some parts of it. The sight of his body turns my stomach, and I look away in disgust.

Using my powers carefully and subtly, I unless blades from my hands and slashes away the live wires holding in his body. The live wires were sliced into pieces and falls harmlessly into the ground, with the body of the dead soldier falling down to the ground. The smell of burnt flesh is strong in my nose and I slowly approach to the body.

Kneeling close to the body as it falls into the ground with the back on the concrete ground, I look at the dead body with sadness. Poking it with my finger is tempting, especially in the face. But there is something that is telling me to respect for the dead, for he died in an unexpecting manner. I am given two different options, to carry his body and to deliver a short prayer for the departed soul.

Unfortunately and unfairly, both of them requires a certain and required level for me to perform that activity to the corpse. Even more so with prayer, which tells me that I have to be in Level 5 to pray for the dead and Level 3 to carry a dead body. I became angry and frustrated, as the restriction of my powers is kind of a nuisance and hindrance that prohibits me to enjoy with the dream. With nothing else, I stood up and walk away from the cold, electrified body.

Sometime afterwards, I took in a car through totally legal means (steal it from someone else driving and moving them out of the vehicle) and started driving around the city. Despite with the totally legal act, I prefer to stay on the road, where I would get to watch some sights such as buildings and roads that are mostly empty, due to the recent attack that scares off many civilians. The car is black and sleek, and is designed perfectly for long-range travels like road trips. I continue to drive and move the vehicle around, eventually reaching myself somewhere in the outskirts of the city, where there are less buildings, more greens and trees and has a large creek-like river with a bridge in it.

And unfortunately, I accidentally swivel around, and the vehicle edges itself close to the bridge. Once it is already a bit overboard, the vehicle slowly falls and into my inevitable death. I try to turn it around and to grab by the ledge but couldn’t do so and I just close my eyes as I can feel the vehicle slowly falling down.

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

There are several cars that are parked randomly and chaotically in the street, sometimes being destroyed, burned in fire or already charred to blackness. There are random trash scattered around, mostly debris coming from the burned items or some holes and damages in the buildings. People are panicking, confused and scared on what is going on, sometimes going out to the other way just to stay away from any possible fighting. What used to be an intersect, there is now a very large and massive crater in the center of it, deep enough that some of the drainage and water pipes have been exposed and damaged, spilling contents into some parts of the crater. I could also see some random vehicles trapped or buried in the crater, and what seems to be a bus toppled to the side.

I have been start looping again and back to the start of this segment, but I have remembered on what had happened before.

And I ended up being far more bored than usual.

Normally, I would abstain violence, as it is needless and would be a hindrance on my personal journey in my dream. However, the taste of blood and mayhem is strong in this dream and I decided to let loose, even if I would have made the situation of the city even worse.

Following on my inner yet dark desire for blood, I quickly board into a military mecha, where I quickly assume control over it to start my rampage. The mecha’s joints are a bit rusty, but thanks to my lucidity, my POV quickly turn to 3rd Person, where I can now see most of the area above me and it helps me in moving around the place easier.

The soldiers notice me and try to take me down, using rocket launchers or bullets into the more sensitive parts of my joints. I quickly notice this and use the mecha’s heavy weight to crush down upon these feeble soldiers, with the each step or stomp on them transforms into red sticky paste or a swipe that sends them flying into buildings or vehicles, either breaking their bodies or bones or both in the impact. Any vehicle that stands in my way will be stomp down, either flat or damaging it greatly, potentially killing anyone stuck inside.

The military are becoming desperate, as they have no idea that one of their own mechas will turn against them. While the ground units flee, they sent out their trump card; their own mecha, ready for battle, rushing to the field and tackle me down, sending both of us falling down to the crater.

Landing on top of a large, now ruined futuristic bus, both of us engage in close combat, with our fist powerful enough to try knock out each other. Direct offense with no defense skills is dangerous as his punch, if targeting the head, will be fatal to me and so I quickly turn into dodging away from each blow. As each time it is staggering, I pound my fists into the joints of the mecha, taking advantage of its weakness and logics to try to stall it down and eventually claim victory.

A chop in the shoulders causes the mecha to experience disorientation. I can hear the faint sounds of surprises of the operators in the mecha, realizing that their weakness is found. Not giving them a chance to strike me down, I quickly aim their shoulders, with chops and punches to slowly dislodge the joints down, giving me an advantage in battle.

Now armless as the arms are sent flying, the mecha falls down, straight into a large puddle coming from damaged plumage pipes. With the mecha down, I quickly tower of it and start ripping away pieces of the mecha’s body, while screams coming from the operators are faintly heard in my head. After stomping on it, the mecha lies heavily damaged in the water, and the sounds are silent, greatly hinting that the operators are now dead. Black oil slowly seeps from the damaged areas of the mecha, slowly staining the water around the mecha black.

My blood lust has been sated, but I realized on how my activity had cost many lives of great men trying to defend their homes.

Ashamed of what I have done, I quickly realized that the whole damage is not going to help my case. I move out of the mecha and fly passed away from the warzone and into the factory, making less noise along the way. The place will be crawling with stronger units who will be hunting down the strange assailant that cause mayhem in the area and they won’t be so merciful and friendly as with the previous instance when I didn’t go nuts for blood. As I am slowly approaching to an area where it is far enough and away from the looking eyes of the public, I slowly descend my course, until my shoes comes in contact with the black metallic floor of the factory. As I am take small cautious steps towards getting inside the factory, I turn my back to look at the cityscape around me.

The place is beautiful. In spite that it has a strong dystopian cyberpunk-like atmosphere due to the dull sky and fog, there are shimmering skyscrapers, buildings that resemble more out of geometric pieces of art and roads that would boast some fancy and deluxe cars. It is all stripped away from a conflict that I have arrived too late, and only made things worse by going berserk and straight up kill everyone in my path. Now that the damage has been done, I do not know what will happen to the city now, especially since there are two different assailants running around the place, potentially causing more distress amongst the populace.

I sigh sadly, wishing that I should have stop myself from making more kills.

But what is done has been done and now I shall move forward.

#dream #dream journal #fanfiction

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underthewingsofthblackeagle · 7 years ago

Text

Chapter 6: Days of Bliss, Part 24

Short notes to my readers: To some of you the next three chapters may seem a bit boring as they do not pay much attention to the relationship of Jamie & Claire. (Parts of these chapters were inspired by S02 E10 "Prestonpans" because some lessons of the history of the last failed Scottish Rising fit very well with the development the Prussian army underwent in the time since 1748. Ever since I heard Jamie speak of the need for a cavalry in S02E10, I have often wondered what could have happened if there had been an alliance between the Scots and Prussia, especially with an instructor like Friedrich Wilhelm von Seydlitz. That there were - at least ecclesiastical relations - to Prussia, is mentioned in connection with the "Black Church"-Dialogue between Claire & Jamie in S01E3.) However, these chapters provide an important background for some other parts of the story. So hold on ;) For those who have asked me how the story is going, here is a small 'weather forecast': Current events are happening in autumn. Towards the end of it, it gets very stormy. Then a very cold winter will follow. Spring is not an easy time but will be auspicious. The summer will be warm, maybe very warm and the next autumn brings a big surprise ... For all those who have only recently followed the story, here is an overview of all chapters: Click! Here you find a timeline: Click! If you want to read the story on AO3: Click! Thank you all for being at my side while we are on this adventures trip of romance and history :)

(”Pferde” by Werner77)

A Royal Visit - Part 4: Brothers in (different) arms - Conversation

After dinner, the hall had emptied. The King and Paul von Trebitsch had withdrawn for private talks into the King's room. Two soldiers had taken up their duty as guard in front of the house and two other soldiers in front of the King's room. The remaining soldiers, like the kitchen staff, had gone to their quarters. Only Friedrich Wilhelm von Seydlitz was still sitting in the hall, waiting for James Fraser to return from his evening inspection tour. At eight o'clock the door of the manor finally opened and Fraser entered.

"Ah, here you are, Mr. Fraser! You did not forget that I still have to talk to you?" "No, Mr. von Seydlitz. Come, let's go to the library, there we can talk without someone interrupting us." Friedrich Wilhelm von Seydlitz reached for his wine glass and wanted to follow Fraser. "Simply leave the glass. I have ordered wine and fresh glasses for us and all that already waits in the library."

He opened the door and let von Seydlitz enter. The fireplace was burning and the room was illuminated by several candlesticks. At the headboard of the large table in the middle of the room someone had placed a silver tablet with unused glasses and some bottles of wine, rum and brandy. Also a bowl of fruit and a second bowl of pastries were found there. "Oh, that looks very inviting," von Seydlitz remarked audibly pleased.

"Ms. Beauchamp was so kind ..." Fraser replied with a smile, then pointed to the first chair on the long side of the table. The Major sat down and Fraser sat down at the headboard. "Mr. Fraser," von Seydlitz began the conversation, "I want to be completely honest with you." "Does that mean you have not been honest with me yet?" Fraser asked with a smile.

"Sure! But now I have to talk to you about something that may seem like a fabula phantastica to you." He paused for a moment and took a deep breath. "You can imagine that there is a reason for my visit at Balfenberg and my conversation with you. And you can also imagine that this reason is not only to look at your success with the horse breeding."

Fraser looked at his counterpart in a friendly and interested manner, but said nothing, so von Seydlitz continued: "Tomorrow morning, before breakfast, I'll have to report to the King. He's expecting my assessment about you. He wants to know what I think of you."

Again von Seydlitz paused and observed the Bailiff. However, Fraser was hidden behind the mask that was his own and showed no reaction.

"You, I, we all know that there will be another war in the foreseeable future. As long as the Witch of Vienna [1] reigns, our freedom is threatened. We must be prepared for that ... and ... we are prepared for it. We will defend ourselves ... A defensive fortification, Mr. Fraser, needs walls, palisades, ramparts, ditches, gates and bridges, but also defensive towers ... In the defense of Prussia our King has allotted to you the position of a defensive tower. But you will understand that his Majesty also wants to make sure that this tower is not occupied by the wrong man."

For the first time throughout the conversation, Fraser's face showed a slight movement.

"Does that surprise you?"

"It amazes me that after the few hours we've spent together, you think you can assess me."

Now Seydlitz smiled.

"You must know, Mr. Fraser, my superiors, my enemies and my friends, claim that I have what is called the 'coup d'oeil.' [2] That's the ability to assess - at a glance - the possibilities of a location, a military situation or ... of a person."

"And you really think you can trust me after such a short time." Again von Seydlitz smiled. "You trusted me after a much shorter time." Fraser did not ask the question, but von Seydlitz knew it just by looking at him.

"When you made it clear to me in your inimitable friendly way that I should not come to close too your future wife ... You told me that your future father-in-law is against your relationship. What would prevent me from divulging your secret?" Fraser's questioning gaze turned to bewilderment.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to do any such thing! It's completely out of the way for me to harm you. On the contrary, this little episode has clearly shown that we can trust you." Still, Fraser did not say a word. "A man who defends the woman he loves with such vehemence, will he not defend the kingdom that gives him and his wife the opportunity to live in peace and freedom?"

This question elicited Fraser a broad grin and von Seydlitz smiled too. "Well, and your English file does not look bad too." "My English file?" Friedrich Wilhelm von Seydlitz looked into two astonished blue eyes and thought: "In this surprise, I succeeded."

"My English file?" Fraser asked again. "We'll talk about that later," the Major replied. "First, let me explain what we're talking about: We must, as I said, be prepared for another war. The Witch of Vienna will not rest until her troops have reconquered Silesia." "Explain to me why Silesia is so important to Prussia," Fraser demanded, "Is it about raw materials, land ownership?" "I'll be happy to explain the context, but let's come back to that later, let me just say what it's all about: freedom, your and my freedom, that's what it's about and nothing else."

(”Wein” by Gadini)

"Wine?" "Gladly." Fraser filled two glasses and pointed with one hand to the bowls of fruit and pastries. "Thank you." Friedrich von Seydlitz reached for his glass and sipped. "Oh good!" "Goldriesling from Saxony, from the estate Hoflößnitz [3], but please continue, what do I have to do with this whole thing?"

The Major had his glass turned down and stood up. With his arms crossed behind his back, he slowly walked up and down the long side of the table. "You may know that Prussia has the fastest and most efficient infantry in Europe." Fraser nodded. "I have heard of that." "I've seen it, I've fought in the first and second Silesian war, and Prussia's infantry is good, very good indeed. We also have a cavalry ..."

Von Seydlitz took a deep breath, then went on: "Our cavalry is not ... bad ... but it's not good enough, the fighting style is outdated, most of the potential is completely lost." He reached the head of the table and sipped from his wineglass again. Still holding the glass in his hand, he looked at Fraser and then directly into his eyes. He spoke calmly, but with a strength and conviction that seemed to chisel every word deep into the walls of the room:

"I, Mr. Fraser, will give this country the fastest and the most powerful cavalry it has ever had, a cavalry that, if you see it, will only permit comparison with the biblical plague of locusts. I will give my country a cavalry, whose hooves not only shake the ground, but also the hearts of our enemies. I have introduced new training methods in my squadron in Trebnitz. We have capable soldiers. With the new training methods, we can greatly increase the effectiveness of our cavalry."

He leaned on the table with both hands, still looking into the eyes of his interlocutor: "The King has already agreed to my plans. I have three years. At the autumn maneuver in three years, the King awaits results. Then the new cavalry must be ready for operation. But we need horses, a large number of horses. We can, of course, buy horses abroad. But it is expensive and, above all, it causes a stir. Besides this, we not only need a lot of horses, we also need horses that are suitable for our purposes and we breed such horses, the sturdy warm-blood Trakehner, on our stud farm in Trakenhen [4] in East Prussia, but the number is not enough. We currently have enough horses to train our men. But in case of war we need more horses. And the sooner we get those horses, the more time we have to train them.”

"Then I suppose we should expand the horse breeding here? I heard that the King and Mr. von Trebitsch were talking about buying land from Baron von Mallon."

"Yes, of course it would be good if you were to expand the breed here, but the matter of the land of the Baron of Mallon ... that will not come up so soon. As long as he lives, he will not sell. In addition, Mr. Fraser, I, we, are planning something different."

When Fraser did not comment, von Seydlitz put his glass down and continued:

"If we were to build up a new big breed anywhere in Prussia, it would instantly put our enemies on alert. Berlin and Potsdam and all around - there are swarms of spies - French, Austrian, English and Russian diplomats we can not drive out of the land. And they buy Prussian citizens who have no brains, dishonorable fellows who can be bought with just a handful of coins! No, Mr. Fraser, we are following a different plan! We are setting up small breeding stations all over the kingdom. Small stations, not noticeable. Why should a Baron not have a little horse breeding?”

Von Seydlitz smiled and went on:

“The King travels through the kingdom from estate to estate. I follow him at some distance and at different ways. No one should not see us together. The King, it is believed, is on one of his usual travels through the country. You know they call him the "King everywhere". The people think that I'm in Potsdam because of the annual autumn maneuver. But everywhere we go, we try to win the landowners for this cause and ... so far we have been successful. We will visit a number of other estates until the fall maneuver begins. I assume that most of the men agree with our plan."

Von Seydlitz was about to reach for his glass, but when he saw Fraser's questioning look, he let go of it. "Tomorrow morning, Mr. Fraser, I will have to report to the King. I will tell his Majesty that I think you are able and that I trust you, and then the King will call you and explain our plan to you. Finally, he will ask you if you are ready to take on the duties of an inspector of these small breeding stations. We do not want the landlords to breed without supervision. Somebody has to inspect these stations and act as contact. The King will offer you this task for this region."

Fraser's eyes widened. He looked at the table in surprise, but also in consternation. Then he reached for his wineglass and took a long sip. His counterpart watched him. After Fraser had deeply breathed in, he said: "An offer that I can not refuse ..." "What do you mean ...?" "Oh, I thought that one day I would have to pay a price for getting this citizenship with special rights."

"Nonsense! Of course you can refuse the King's offer and of course nothing will happen to you. We are not in France or Russia! The King will be disappointed, but he will not deprive you of your citizenship! How can you even think of such a thing? In this country it is not punishable to disagree with the King. If you insult him, you will get in trouble, but not if ..."

"Will the King not consider it an insult if I reject his offer?" "And deport you to England or even let you hang? Fraser, how do you come up with such nonsense? The King makes you an offer to enter his service besides your profession here. It is an honor, but you can reject it. If you do your job well, then the King will be grateful and more doors will open for you. But if you refuse, you probably will not get a second chance."

"What exactly would be my task?" "We will assign to you a number of breeding stations in this region, over which you will have supervision. The Baron von Warenburg has already agreed to expand his horse breeding, which is particularly important to us because Warenburg is not only a central trading center in this area, but also the place for the largest bi-annual horse market in the whole region. The Baron von Auberg, whose estate lies east of Warenburg, has given us his pledge. We spoke also with the Baron of Talkow. His estate is in the triangle between Auberg and Warenburg. He also takes part. With Balfenberg there would be four breeding stations. And tomorrow the young Mr. Moderegger will pay his respects to the King. Since he owns a large farm, the King will ask him, if he will expand it with a horse breeding."

(“Obst” by dalphoto)

Major von Seydlitz reached for his glass and drank it empty. "More wine?" "Gladly." He held out the glass to Fraser and said:

"When we have finished our visit here, we will visit the Baron of Mallon. I think he too will not refuse the King's request. And then there are the estates of the Barons of Bieky and Heidau on our itinerary. In total, there are eight estates that would belong to your region, you would have to visit them once a month to see the horses, except, of course, during the winter months and harvest time. You report directly to me at Trebnitz. A courier will pick up your report once a month and, if necessary, will deliver messages to you, and I will report directly to the King. If you accept the task, the King will award you with the title of a Prussian Stable Master and pay Mr. von Trebitsch a compensation for you services."

"So I'll be your subordinate then?" "No, the inspectors we'll install in the other regions will be my subordinates, and of course I'll need reports from you to get an overview, but no, you have a free hand in all that you do, Mr. Fraser." "May I ask how it is that you grant me such a role?" "As I said, Mr. Fraser: I have read your English file." Fraser was silent. "We too, Mr. Fraser, have our people 'on the spot', if you understand what that means," von Seydlitz said with a smile while taking some of the biscuits. "Spies, I suppose?" "Yes, of course," replied von Seydlitz, laughing softly. "There are family ties between Prussia and England, and as you may know, the mother of our King is the sister of King George I. But surely you know the saying: 'You can't choose your family, you have to take it as it is. Only friends you choose yourself.' There are family ties, but no love among these relatives. Did you know that the British fought us in the first and second Silesian war? Tell me, Mr. Fraser: Who needs such kinship?"

Notes: [1] Maria Theresia of Austria; see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maria_Theresa [2] See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coup_d%27%C5%93il [3] A famous winery in Saxony, founded in 1401 [4] See https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hauptgest%C3%BCt_Trakehnen

#jamiefraser #clairebeauchamp #outlander #outlander fanfic #prussia

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cherry-bubblegum · 7 years ago

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High Horse

(Wrote this for a friend on twitter~)

The muddy and puddle-swamped roads contrasted the lighthearted and optimistic mood of the army passing through. They had finally removed the last known faceless horde that was terrorizing a rural village near the Nohrian and Hoshidan border. This village was so remote, it was not the fighting that had ever proved any challenge, only the prospect of the trek that had ultimately caused Corrin to attend to it later.

Leo was bringing up the rear on his horse, having been assigned by his sister to check on the villagers once the battle was won. The on-and-off drizzle wasn’t too annoying from his position, although the damp air seemed to bring out the bugs, causing his horse’s ears to twitch in annoyance.

Despite his late start, he was now catching up to the infantry who had left before him. They walked in little groups, chatting lightly to themselves, confident that there was no longer any dangers waiting for them in the light shrubbery on either side of the somewhat narrow path. They would politely move to the side when they heard Nosferatu’s heavy steps, allowing Leo to slowly gain some ground. One man did not move to the side when Leo approached, although this wasn’t with the intent to be rude –the thought probably just didn’t occur to him. This wasn’t the only reason Takumi stood out; for tactical reasons Takumi had been one of the few Hoshidans assigned to this mission, and thus he opted to walk alone rather than engage with the other Nohrian foot soldiers. Again, Leo now knew this was less due to hostility (although this would have been a very likely cause a few months ago) and more to a slight social awkwardness Leo would never admit he could relate to.

Slowing his pace and keeping alongside his friend as much the narrow path would allow, he greeted him.

“’Afternoon. Poor weather for marching, isn’t it?”

Takumi returned his question with a somewhat incredulous glance. Leo probably deserved it –Takumi’s boots were plastered with mud in various stages of drying, and his clothes and hair looked damp, small droplets of water collected in the furrier parts of his attire. On the other hand, Leo was riding a horse and was relatively dry in his water-repellant armour.

“Quite.”

Leo hesitated. He was tempted to offer Takumi a ride, but immediately questioned if that would be proper. Although they’d admitted friendship, there was something to be said of rank and politics and perhaps even favouritism in offering an uninjured person a ride after passing other people who were equally entitled to a ride. (Did the fact that Takumi was also a prince make it better or worse?) Leo would selfishly enjoy the company; talks with Takumi were engaging and usually enjoyable. Takumi on the other hand was quick to upset –perhaps he would take such an offer as an insult?

“You look wet,” Leo’s mouth supplied as his brain continued to be preoccupied.

“…I have a suspicion it’s due to all the rain,” Takumi countered with equal eloquence.

As Leo continued to fumble in silence with what to say, Takumi seemed to realize he was taking up the center of the path and unintentionally blocking the way.

“Ah, I suppose you’re trying to get past…” He sheepishly moved off to the side. “You could have just said something. Or I guess he’s big enough that you could have just stepped on me instead, heh. What’s his name?”

The question brought him out of his thoughts, catching him a little off-guard in it’s innocence. “Nosferatu.” Although the space was now available to pass, he kept pace with his friend (albeit awkwardly for his horse).

“Like the spell?” He looked amused.

Ignoring his itchy palms and deciding he had given the idea more thought than it merited, Leo swallowed hard. “Look, do you want a ride?” He indicated the space behind him. “He can carry two quite comfortably –waterlogged as you are.”

Takumi’s eyes darted momentarily to the available space, the invitation appearing to take a few seconds to register before his features showed shock and a little embarrassment. “With you? Look, don’t worry about it—“

“—You look like crap, Takumi. Just get on.” He smiled to soften his words. If Takumi thought he was trying to give an order, Leo would be dead before he made it back to Corrin’s castle realm. He shifted his weight, indicating for his horse to stop. Despite his objections, Takumi stopped too, now looking suspicious as though Leo was trying to lure him into some sort of trap.

The silence and refusal was beginning to make Leo feel embarrassed, and he was considering digging in his heels and riding away to preserve what dignity he had left.

“Fine! Ok. Help me on.”

Oh.

Leo removed one of his feet from the stirrups and offered his hand. Takumi took it gingerly and stepped –and stepped down. Shifting slightly he stepped again and –nope.

Leo snorted. Takumi glared.

On the third attempt he made it on, sighing in relief when he finally got his leg up and over. Leo immediately felt him shift backwards. He turned to look over his shoulder; Takumi was seated as far back as the length of the horse would allow. He was practically sitting on the rump, arms outstretched downwards in front of him, gripping whatever edge of the saddle he could.

“Gods Takumi, have you never ridden a horse before?”

“What? Let’s go! We’re holding back the line.”

Not finding himself capable of suggesting Takumi hold on to him, Leo shrugged and prompted Nosferatu to walk, acutely aware of Takumi swaying with every step and the curious eyes observing them as they passed.

As if fate saw the opportunity, the next bend in the trail revealed uneven ground. Inevitably, Leo heard a frantic yelp, felt panicked fingers brush ineffectually at his cape, and then heard Takumi fall onto the earth with a muted thump.

Leo stopped his horse and angled it slightly; partially to get a better look and partially to casually attempt to hide his friend from the people still trudging by.

“Before I laugh at you, is anything broken?” Had the ground been stony, Leo would have been more concerned. As it was, the ground was dirt, and the rain had only aided in making it softer.

“Only my spirit –thanks for asking.” He was still sprawled on the ground, looking up at him flatly even through his apparent mortification.

“Sounds serious. I should probably offer you a ride.”

He extended his hand again, expecting Takumi to refuse him entirely this time. To his surprise, Takumi got up with whatever dignity he could and took the offered appendage, muttering something about Nohrians and their high horses as he got up on his first try.

There was only a brief moment of hesitation where Takumi seemed to be deciding between putting his arms on Leo’s shoulders or around his waist before he apparently chose the latter, settling himself securely this time.

A whisper tickled Leo’s ear; “If I fall down again, I’m taking you with me.” His middle was squeezed lightly for emphasis.

He smiled and decided Takumi could probably go without any additional remarks, prompting his horse to begin again.

Even when the mud began to dry and the rain showed no signs of returning, Takumi seemed content to continue riding with Leo on his high horse.

Eyyyyy just a little casual thing for fun. Feel free to check out my more serious stuff on my AO3 or visit me on twitter :)

#leokumi #I'm actually workin on a more serious version of the pic so keep your eyes open #silly writings #art #fe14

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aceb133 · 7 years ago

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Wholesome Week 2, Day 6: The Battle for Firebase Mewni

...This is what you guys had in mind for this prompt, right? Right???

July 15th, 1968 Kon Tum Province, South Vietnam 1143 Local

Just five more minutes, Captain Steve “Pony Head” Slate thought. Five more minutes until he gave up waiting and flew off without her.

He checked his fuel gauge, his heart sinking into his stomach. He’d been circling this god-forsaken patch of jungle in his Air America Huey for nearly fifteen minutes now, and he was giving up hope his pickup would ever arrive. He grimaced as he scanned the treetops, knowing he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he left her behind-but if he didn’t act soon, he wouldn’t have a choice.

Beside him, his co-pilot, Lt. Tad Kelly, tapped the controls and hummed nervously. “You sure these are the right coordinates, Pony Head?”

“Well, they came straight from Ruberiot at the Castle, and he’s usually pretty accurate.” Slate said. “But then again, it’s the Agency, so I figure we’ve got about a 50/50 chance.”

He sighed. “I’ll give her a couple more minutes, then-“

“Hold on, I’ve got a visual on smoke!” Kelly shouted. Turning, Slate saw a thin column of red smoke rising from the jungle, and he felt an immense wave of relief. Tipping the helicopter forward, he dropped down into the clearing that had been designated by the LZ, and hovered over the grass.

A second later, a figure darted out from behind the trees and climbed on board, banging the roof. “Let’s go!”

Slate didn’t need the invitation, dipping the controls forward and leaning on the throttle. The Huey quickly leapt into the air in response, rising above the treetops and leaving the jungle behind.

Slate smiled as he turned and stole a glance at his passenger. Everything about her-from her heart-shaped tattoos on her cheeks, to her long blond hair tucked under her helmet, to the decorated purple and star-emblazoned CAR-15 she held, screamed the opposite of CIA operative. But if there was one thing Slate knew about Captain Star Butterfly, codenamed PRINCESS, it was never to underestimate her.

“Good to see you again, Princess!” Slate shouted over the roar of the rotors. “Mind telling us what’s going on?”

“Call me Princess again and I’ll toss you from this ‘chopper,” Star said, smirking. “But… ah, the hell with it, I’m gonna get right down to it: we’re going to Firebase Mewni.”

“Firebase Mewni?” Kelly asked. “Why the hell are we heading out there?”

“Ask Colonel Moon, they’re the one that recalled me.” Star replied. “The only information I have is that they expect an imminent attack by VC forces. Turns out Kẹo Bơ Cứng might be back.”

“Bơ Cứng?” Slate said incredulously, turning back to Star. “I thought you took him out back in Operation CASTLE. Isn’t Ludo the one in command of forces in that area now?”

Star shook her head. “Whatever we did, it wasn’t enough. Reports are scattered, but we received word from local agent BUFF FROG that Bơ Cứng’s subsumed Ludo’s leadership. At this point, all we can do is hope to get there first.”

Slate nodded. “Well don’t worry, we’re bookin’ it as fast as we can manage. Should we expect any friendly assets?”

“Major Johansen’s in command there, he should be shoring up their defenses as we speak.” Star said. “I’ve also got word from General Quỷ Sa Tăng that he’s personally driving in an entire mechanized battalion of ARVN, though lord knows if they’ll get there in time to help.”

Slate nodded. “What about that army captain you were working with, that Diaz guy? You think he might be able to provide any support?”

Star was silent for a moment in the back of the helicopter. “…I don’t think so,” she finally said.

Slate shook his head angrily for a moment, but decided to let the matter drop. He’d seen how Butterfly had looked at Diaz, in a way that she didn’t look at anybody else-and he’d seen how her heart had been broken when it turned out the good Captain already had a girl back home. But he knew Butterfly wasn’t the kind of woman who would put any man ahead of the mission. If she said Diaz and his company were in no position to assist, he believed her.

For the next twenty minutes, the trio sat in silence as the Huey raced over the green jungles and rolling hills of the Vietmanese highlands. It was at times like these, Slate thought, that you could almost trick yourself into thinking the nation wasn’t at war-and that if he’d wished, he could simply land the helicopter and lose himself in the tremendous natural beauty that surrounded them.

But, as he spied the contrails of a flight of B-52 bombers high above, he shook his head sadly. Though fantasy was one of the only escapes men like him had from the war, even daydreams had their limits.

“We’ve got about five minutes before we reach the base.” Kelly reported. Slate nodded, and, squinting, spied the firebase approaching over the horizon. Situated on one of the highest hills in the area, Firebase Mewni had been built above an old Vietmanese hamlet from which it had gotten its bastardized name. Under the dual command of Major River Johansen of the US Army’s 4th Infantry Division and Colonel Moon of the CIA, the base served as an Agency stronghold in the area for incursions into Cambodian and Laotian territory to disrupt Viet Cong operations. One of the most important outposts in the region, it had been attacked by both the NVA and the Viet Cong repeatedly before-but it had held each time, if only barely.

“Looks like the fighting’s already begun.” Kelly said, raising a hand to his helmet. In the distance, Slate was able to spy the distant flashes of artillery, and the occasional string of tracers.

“I think you’re right.” Slate said. “Okay, Star, this looks like it’s going to be a hot drop. I’m gonna need you to-“

Without warning, the jungle below them exploded with fire. The helicopter shuddered as a string of tracers chewed through the thin armor plating, and a series of warning lights immediately began to glow on the dashboard.

Gripping the controls, Slate watched helplessly as the oil pressure in his engine began to drop. “Come on, baby,” he whispered, “Just a little bit more. We just gotta go a bit farther.”

It was no use. The helicopter shuddered as the engine began to die, and the treetops of the jungle began to edge closer and closer.

“Hold on!” Slate shouted. “Brace for im-“

----------

Star groaned as she slowly drifted back into consciousness. For a moment, she thought she was back at Camp Echo, back with Marco, about to go on patrol…

Then, she remembered where she was, and her mind jolted back to the realm of the living.

Scrambling to stand up, she evaluated the situation as quickly as she could. She was on the edge of a wide jungle clearing, only a dozen yards away from the smoking hulk that had once been an Air America liveried Bell Model 204B. Miraculously, not only had Star survived the crash, but though her entire body hurt like hell, and her head felt as though someone had smacked her in the head with a frying pan, she hadn’t been seriously injured. Her ‘wand’, however, a specially modified CAR-15 that had been given to her personally by Colonel Moon, was nowhere to be found.

Unholstering and drawing her pistol, Star crept forward to the wreckage of the helicopter. The cartoon horse head painted on the door grinned at her as she approached, stained with dripping fuel, and Star held her breath as she got a closer look at the man in the pilot’s seat. That’s a lot of blood…

Miraculously, however, he, too, was still breathing-though as Star got closer, Star could tell that unlike her, he hadn’t managed to entirely avoid the hand of fate. Part of the helicopter’s control panel had been crushed inwards by the impact, and Slate’s left leg had been almost entirely severed above the knee.

“Princess?” Slate said groggily. “Is that you?”

“Quiet, Pony Head.” Star hissed. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. Now come on, let’s get you out of there.”

Using her knife, Star slashed Slate’s restraints, and pulled him from the cockpit, trying not to look at where the wreckage had shorn through his leg. Laying him down against a nearby tree, she tore a strip of cloth from his shredded pants and used it to tie a tourniquet around his leg, praying he hadn’t lost as much blood as she believed he had.

“I should’ve stayed in the *cough* First Cav.” Slate said wearily. “Say, where’d Kelly? He make it out?”

Star ran back over to the helicopter and tried to see if she could spot Slate’s co-pilot. But, aside from the helmet he’d been wearing, a foliage-patterned infantry helmet with a pair of large googly eyes pasted to it, she could see no sign of him.

Suddenly, she heard a branch break.

Whipping around, she leveled her pistol at the jungle, her eyes darting all around as she tried to determine the source of the noise. It had been close-too close, and she didn’t believe in coincidences. Someone was here, and the only question was who would find the other first.

Biting her lip, Star looked back at the wounded Slate. Had she been by herself, the obvious solution would have been to run. As tough a fighter as she was, she knew the key to staying alive was fighting battles only on the ground she chose-and against an unknown number of enemies, in an area she knew nothing about, she wouldn’t have given herself good odds.

But, looking back at Slate, she knew she couldn’t leave a man behind.

Creeping backwards, she slowly disappeared into the foliage and dropped down to the ground. Cradling her pistol, she wondered if the helicopter’s radio still worked, and if it would be possible to call for help-but then, as a pair of Vietnamese guerillas appeared out of the jungle in front of her, she knew it was too late.

Breathing as softly as she could, Star watched the two approach the smoking wreck of the helicopter slowly, keeping their rifles raised. By the way they moved, Star could tell they were no peasant conscripts. These were veteran fighters, men who had undoubtedly spent years-possibly even decades-fighting to free their country. If she didn’t play this just right, Star knew, she and Slate were as good as dead.

As they approached the helicopter, one of them suddenly swung around and pointed his rifle in Slate’s direction. Tapping his comrade, he slowly moved forward, keeping his rifle trained on Slate’s body. The other kept his rifle up and slowly scanned the jungle around them, looking for any more survivors of the crash.

Star stayed as still as she possibly could, watching the Vietnamese soldier scan the underbrush. It was only a matter of time before he spotted her, she knew. What she needed was a distraction…

As carefully as she could, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her lighter. It was a classic Zippo, emblazoned with a little cartoon of a spider in a top hat. She smiled briefly as she held it, remembering how it had been a gift from Marco from shortly after she’d arrived at Camp Echo.

Then, lighting it, she lofted it as hard as she could at the helicopter, praying desperately that neither VC would see or hear the motion before the lighter could reach its target.

With a loud CLANG, the lighter knocked against the battered frame of the Huey. A second later, there was a bloom of fire as the lighter ignited the leaking avgas. Startled, both guerillas shouted in Vietnamese as the helicopter burst into flame, and that was all the opening Star needed. Leaping up out of the foliage, she fired her pistol at the first Guerilla, placing two shots directly into his back and sending him crashing to the ground. Shifting targets, she pulled the trigger again-only to be rewarded with a light click. Desperately, she tossed the weapon directly at the turning guerilla, distracting him momentarily as he leaned to dodge the improvised weapon. For Star, it was just enough-closing the distance, she grabbed the VC and tackled him to the ground, trying to wrestle his rifle from his grip. He had the strength, but she had the leverage-and, pushing her weight into the rifle, she was able to twist it away from the man. Before he could react, she flipped it around, found the trigger, and shot him twice.

Breathing heavily, she stood up, scanning the jungle once more. Then, to her horror, she saw a dozen figures emerging from the jungle on the opposite end of the clearing, their weapons raised. As soon as they saw her, they began firing, and Star had to scramble to run back to the treeline without getting hit. Falling to the ground, Star aimed the rifle and fired a trio of shots back at the approaching enemy squad. She knew, however, it was no use-there wasn’t enough ammo to take them all out, and even if there had been, there were a dozen of them, and only one of her.

Then, she heard the sound of rotors above the gunfire.

Out of nowhere, a Cobra attack helicopter flew out over the clearing, its chin-mounted gun blazing. Spinning around, the helicopter began to hover only a few dozen feet from Star, close enough for her to read the pilot’s names emblazoned on the cockpit-Dolittle and O’Durguson.

Across the clearing, the VC infantry rapidly began to retreat, firing sporadically at the attacking gunship. Then, a trio of Huey helicopters flew over the clearing, and one-proudly emblazoned with the screaming eagle of the 101st Airborne-dropped down, landing just a few yards away from the burning crash site.

Star stood up slowly, not believing her eyes as Captain Marco Diaz leapt out of the helicopter, his own rifle in hand. “Star? Is that you?”

“Marco!” Star shouted. “What the hell are you doing here? I thought your unit was rotating home!”

“After you left, we got word Firebase Mewni was under attack.” Marco replied. “We were about ten minutes from getting our flight home, but… I knew you’d be here, and I knew you’d need the help. I talked to everyone, and to a man, everyone volunteered to come back and help you fight.”

Star breathed in deeply, not believing what she was hearing. “Well, you sure came at a good time, Captain. I don’t know what the situation is at the base, but we would’ve been done for if you hadn’t shown up.” She turned to Slate, who groggily gave both of them a thumbs-up. “Can you get a Medevac up here?”

“It’s already on its way.” Marco replied. “Now climb aboard, we need to get back to the firebase before Bơ Cứng hits it again. Whatever he’s planning, we have to stop it.”

Nodding, Star marched up to the helicopter. Just as she stepped aboard, Marco spotted something against the ground, and picked it up. “Say, I believe this is yours.”

“I think you’re right.” Star said, gladly accepting her rifle from Marco. The purple bandanna wrapped around the stock had ripped, and the broken star was covered in dirt, but it looked to still be in working order.

“Alright,” she said, strapping herself in and banging her hand against the roof. “Let’s fly.”

#wholesomeweek2 #star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #incredibly dumb #I wasn't even going to write anything for today and then 'Gimmie Shelter' popped up when I was listening to my phone and welp #fanfic #Marco Diaz

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ciceroprofacto · 8 years ago

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10 Lams, please! (or you can stick it in your Alex in Albany series if you're still doing that)

10-“Teach me how to play?”

Late October 1776

A month ago, Hamilton had drilled his company in this courtyard. Dressed smartly in his artillery uniform and cocked hat, he was certainly unrecognizable right now, coatless with his shirt slovenly half-tucked. He could pass for a drunkard or a vagabond street boy.

It was effective.

Even if the locals in the Manhattan recognized him as the student, soldier and writer he’d been before the British invasion, he’d darkened his hair with ash before leaving the inn. Unrecognizable. Most of the locals left in the city were firmly Loyalist anyway- the sort of people that had stopped associating with Hamilton after his first flurry of pamphlets.

Most of the locals…

Reverend John Mason, Susanna Lossing, Doctor Thomas McDougal, Hercules Mulligan, Miss Annie O’Sullivan, Catherine McLane- though he smirked to recall she’d been ‘Kitty’ to him for a night- now Governess Phillis Ogden…

Hamilton had already worked through the names of merchants that would know him only by work with Creuger. Those contacts were a simple matter of discreetly slipping a note of his request and hoping they would remember he’d done good business. These names though, these hinged entirely on the good faith of impressions he had made in person.

And Phillis would be far more inclined to his request than her husband- far more capable of smuggling useful information out of the city. When she spotted Alex across the courtyard while walking the three boys she kept as charges back from their lessons, her eyes held on him a moment longer than a stranger’s. So, he’d made the right choice.

Phillis kept walking to usher the boys home, but when one of them dropped his uniform coat where he’d slung it over his arm, she saw it- and left it on the ground…

Hamilton lurched up and took the long route around the yard, weaving through passersby, allowing the daily rabble of New York City to cover his movement. He swiped the coat off the ground as if he’d dropped it himself, swung it up over his shoulders and stepped off after the Governess.

The nanny of the newly reinstated Governor, Phillis would have access to political information that passed through that office. But, her charges were still boys, and while the general population of the city may not know their faces or names, they’d know their ages and Hamilton probably couldn’t pass for fifteen anymore…

He bumped deliberately into a large man passing him, using fall to swipe a boyish twill cap from a rack outside a taylor’s shop. He put it on.

The motion nearly lost him his sight of Phillis as she led the boys towards the front walk of the Governor’s estate. They departed from her and ran up the lawn. Then she glanced back for him and gave a small nod, walking deliberately up the street towards the bakery- a cite they were both familiar with.

Alex pursued, but before he could get close to the shop, a unit of the light foot infantry marched by, dropping several redcoats in front of the building, obscuring the path inside.

Hamilton fixed his cap at an angle and patted his cheeks rosy before jogging up to the youngest of them. “Sir?” he said, knowing the man was a private and didn’t merit the title. “Could you give this to the Governess, please?” he held out the note, rocked forward on his heels, “She just went inside and ma said we’ve to be home by supper or she’ll have our skin- especially with the curfew…”

The soldier gave him a small indulgent smile and accepted the packet. “Your lessons?” he guessed.

Alex nodded.

The redcoat gave ‘the boy’ a pat on the arm and turned into the bakery without question.

Backing up with a satisfied grin, Hamilton shucked the coat and dropped it on a fencepost for Phillis. Then he watched, as best he could through the windows, the soldier in his bright coat making his way through the crowd inside.

“I like the hat.”

Hamilton started, nearly forgetting that Meade had been off securing their horses- forgetting he’d brought company at all. Then turned with a grin, “Ah, thank you, I just picked it up,” swiping the twill cap off his head, he set a clipped pace back through the crowd.

Meade turned back to the bakery. “Wait- did you hand that note off to a regular?”

Hamilton waved a dismissive hand, “A private, 80th light foot, even if he can read it, he wouldn’t think to.”

Meade still stood stiff as if he was ready to bolt if the redcoat stepped outside with any posture of suspicion. Then after a reluctant moment, he stepped in beside him and they walked. “Did you tell him I’m your father too?”

Alex grinned, “You’re still upset about that?”

“I hardly look old enough to be your father!”

“Ha, no but you are about the right height.” Alex dropped the cap back on the stand he’d nicked it off and dug in his pocket for his list of names, “about.”

Meade punched his arm.

When he’d first set out, back into the occupied city, he’d been apprehensive of bringing the partner that Washington’s aide assigned him, especially with his fears of what he’d find on this mission…about himself…about what he’d done…

So, he’d researched Fitzgerald’s man, found their history of service together in the Virginia Regiments, considered the aide’s biases in making the assignment and anticipated ineptitude based around Fitzgerald’s fondness of him. But, Meade had been nothing but helpful, loyal when needed, and generally uncurious- attractive company even outside his flirting humor and cheek.

Meade leaned over his arm to read his page. “Who’s left on your list?”

Hamilton folded the paper and tucked it back into his pocket. The last stop on his list wasn’t a name. It was a place.

…

Fighting Cocks Tavern had been an escape for Alexander as a student, a source of income when he’d learned a man could place wagers on his own fightring matches, a recruiting tool when he’d needed men for his artillery company…and a tinderbox when the army had needed to escape…

Last he had seen Whitehall Slip, he’d been marching what was left of his company and their cannons towards freshly-dug fortifications, following Major Burr to Harlem Heights. These buildings had been aflame…

“Remarkable how quickly they rebuilt…” Meade said.

“Bars and brothels.”

“What?”

Hamilton guided their step directly into the taproom, immediately hit with the wave of noise and smell. The tavern was filled with British regulars, just released from their duties after supper.

They didn’t slow down- couldn’t afford the attention it would draw to hesitate.

“Bars and brothels, Meade. When cities are destroyed, they’re always the first to rise again, the places where men express their darker selves. It’s necessary to the survival of civilization- that there’s a place, designated solely for containing such things…”

“When cities are destroyed? As though you’ve seen this sort of thing before.”

Hamilton wove past a table of general officers, stepped to the counter and laid down a coin for two drinks. “You know what I admire about you, Meade?”

“-I wasn’t aware you admire me-”

“-That you don’t ask questions.”

Meade pursed his lips, but the drinks were set out a moment later and Hamilton pressed a glass into his hands and patted him on the shoulder.

“I’ve got this one on my own,” he said.

Meade hesitated, and for a moment, Hamilton feared his face was betraying him again, that some part of his apprehension about this place- about what he was to learn here was showing in his expression. But, he relented, “You know the signal? If you need me…”

“I did make it, Meade.”

“But you’ll use it?”

“Yes, mother.”

He turned from the bar and slipped into the crowd, finding his mark at a table of officers playing cards. From a distance, the game seemed innocent enough, but Hamilton knew the reputation of this place- he knew the owner- and his son, seated at the table himself. The place was called ‘Fighting Cocks’ for a reason. When things had been desperate, Hamilton had earned more than his fair share of gambling money here before the practice was shut down.

Even if no money was being exchanged, he’d chance himself with a different sort of gambling, sidling himself beside the son, even though the proximity made his skin crawl. “Teach me how to play?” he said.

The table turned to him, and for all the gall he was risking, no one suspected a patriot officer would plant himself in the middle of this crowd. He was nothing- just another young man over tipsy with drink. The son stared at him a moment before recognition seized his features and shock overtook him.

Whatever interest Hamilton had in making Christopher Stokes an informant disappeared, though he doubted he’d have any interest in working with him anyway. The cards were dealt and, for all that Hamilton slurred his words and laughed raucously, the officers obliged his company for the few minutes it took to play a round of spades.

Stokes grabbed him and lifted him from the table under the guise of retrieving water for an unruly patron. He dragged him past the counter and into the back room, meant only for staff.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Hamilton raised his hands in surrender, but it didn’t stop Stokes from shoving him roughly against the barrels of stored rum. “Will you allow me to explain-”

“I was hoping to never see your face again-”

“-reasonable.”

“But you’re here to haunt me then?” Stokes’s eyes were creeping suspiciously towards Hamilton’s throat.

Alex didn’t wait to be choked, struck down on both Stokes’s arms at once. He spun out of his grip and stepped back, holding his hands up in warning. “I’m unfortunately less of a ghost than you might like,” he said. “But, this isn’t…” it would have been an offer- a different sort of recruitment than what Stokes had allowed Hamilton to employ in his father’s tavern before, but obviously whatever fond memories Stokes might’ve had of Hamilton’s company- or the entertainment he provided the business, were forgotten. After his last visit, Hamilton didn’t blame him, “it’s a social visit.”

Stokes scoffed.

Alexander dropped his hands and gave a pleading look- an honest one, “I was in the area, doing work for Washington-” this admission received an unsurprised look, “and, I only wanted to know… I wanted to ask how it went that night-”

“What we did?”

He said it as though he thought Hamilton might regret it, but Stokes had been in the unit at King’s. They’d trained for militia service together- at least briefly before he’d deserted. He should know the strength of Alexander’s resolve. He should know that Lieutenant Jay had wanted it. General Greene had wanted it. As much as he would deny it, General Washington had wanted it…the city to burn before it’d fall to British hands.

“Five-hundred houses thereabouts.”

“And St. Pauls…?”

“It survived.”

Hamilton nodded, and Stokes glared at him, for the guilt he now bore on his conscious. Alex sympathized intellectually with the feeling, tried to display understanding to ease this hostility, “I understand…that staying here, watching the struggles of your neighbors and friends to rebuild the destruction that I caused-”

“We!” Stokes said. “We caused- you asked me to start the fire, but I did it, me!”

“And the army thanks you for your service.”

“I want you gone.”

Stokes was leaning towards him threateningly. Hamilton sensed that it wasn’t negotiable. Though, Stokes had seen him in more than one cock fight in this place and he had to know that Alex could be resourceful when he needed to- it wasn’t a fight he should take on lightly, not with what Stokes knew about him. “Yes, alright, but…before I go, there’s one thing. Only one thing I needed to ask. Washington’s man-”

Stokes laughed, a bitter thing, “Of everything you have to answer for? The spy?”

Hamilton clenched his jaw. The way Captain Montressor had practically laughed at their feeble attempt at espionage. Stokes didn’t need to know Hamilton had met Cunningham’s man under the white flag himself. He didn’t need to know this was personal. “The report said he was captured that day…”

“During the sweep, yes,” Stokes said. “Anyone who was seen outside in Manhattan that morning was taken in for questioning after the fire started spreading, so I imagine they caught him then…because of the fire.” Hamilton looked away, barely hearing it as Stokes went on, his voice echoing as if Alex had plunged his head underwater. “They wouldn’t have had a reason to keep him if they hadn’t found notes on him for Washington, confirming him as a spy. So, they made a show of his death, as a warning to any patriots still left in the city…like me-”

“I won’t ask any more of you today,” Hamilton said quickly, words rushing together in his haste, he couldn’t meet Stokes’s eyes. “My being here…itself is…a risk to you, I��ll go-”

“Now wait!” Stokes grabbed his arm before he could turn and escape. Hamilton spun on him like a storm twisting the skin of his arm. “How do I know you’re still holding to our deal?” Stokes demanded. “How do I know my name’s still safe and you won’t tell no one what we did. You only came here for information? I’m to believe that?”

Hamilton swayed back another step towards the door- towards Meade and safety. “Yes,” he said. “Remember, you have…just as much leverage over me as I have of you. We agreed to that.” He pulled on his arm, “Now please…”

Stokes frowned and dropped his hold.

And, Hamilton hastened to find Meade. Hastened to disappear from this place for the last time.

#this one's long #and not really Lams yet #and not at all historically accurate #Alex in New York #Pre-SOA #ficlet

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four-loose-screws · 6 years ago

Text

Fire Emblem 5 Umemura Novelization Translation - Chapter 8 Part 3

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

Pre-3DS FE Translations - FE Awakening Translations - FE Fates Translations - Original FE Support Conversations - Ko-fi

Leif felt strange as he ran, sword in hand, through the castle of his memories that he had once spent every day in. Everything felt so nostalgic, yet he had no time to dwell on his feelings.

“That’s as far as you’ll go! We’re going to kill you here!” A man yelled. He seemed to be the leader of the troop of infantry units standing guard before Leif’s army.

The soldiers roared and rushed towards them.

Leif grabbed his sword tightly and ran at them.

The cavalier unit was still outside. A group of enemies entered their vision.

It wasn’t a very large group, but had enough members to match them in numbers.

“Enemy reinforcements have arrived! As we discussed earlier, half of you will come with me and fight on the front line. The rest of you will stay on stand-by here.” Glade unsheathed his sword and pulled his horse’s reigns.

Olwen looked at the enemies coming towards them. She furrowed her brow at the man riding a horse in the middle of the group.

She couldn’t make out his facial features, but she knew from the silver hair that it was Kempf. “Please, wait!” She yelled without thinking.

“What is it, Olwen?” Glade stopped his horse and turned around.

“Please add me to the attack unit!”

“Why?” Glade asked with a frown.

“I have a bone to pick with the guy in the middle. I want to settle things with him once and for all. Please.”

Glade looked Olwen in the eye, then turned his head. “You mean the silver-haired guy?” He asked while looking at the oncoming enemies once more.

“Y-Yes! That’s the one.”

“I understand. You’ll be part of the attack unit, and I’ll leave him to you.”

Olwen’s face brightened at Glade’s words. “Yes, sir! Thank you!”

Glade nodded and smiled, then suddenly changed to a serious expression. “Selfina, you’re in charge here. Now, let’s go!” He raised his sword and galloped off.

Selfina’s group stayed behind, and Olwen and the others in the attack unit followed after Glade.

When Kempf’s unit saw Glade’s coming, they all assumed battle stances and stopped moving. Their members consisted of soldiers, knights, archers, and mages. They spread out, putting Kempf in the back.

Glade stopped his horse and motioned with his sword for everyone else to stop as well.

This kept some distance between the two groups. They stared each other down.

The archers and mages assaulted Glade’s unit with arrows and thunderbolts.

“So this is how they fight!?” Glade clicked his tongue.

Olwen kicked her horse and dashed forward.

“Olwen!”

“I’ll throw them off!” She said without even turning around to look at Glade.

She chanted while charging at Kempf’s unit.

The archers drew their bows.

Her magic shot out before the archers even had a chance to release their arrows. The thunderbolt landed in the middle of the unit and electrocuted them all.

She ordered her horse to continue forward and jump over the disheveled unit.

She didn’t even look once at the soldiers, instead aiming right for Kempf.

The moment their eyes met, Kempf’s eyebrows raised. “I-It’s you!” He screeched and unsheathed his sword. “It’s all your fault! Everyone looks down on me now because of you!”

“No, it’s because you only care about yourself!! You ditched your men and escaped without them!” She blocked his sword and took a step back.

“Damn you! You’re a traitor! You have no right to talk about what I’ve done!” He ground his teeth and glared at her.

She unleashed a spell.

A thunderbolt landed just before his horse’s nose, causing it to flail about on its hind legs and whinny.

Kempf fell off and landed on his back.

Olwen waited for him to stand up, with her sword still in her hand.

He looked up and glared at her.

“Don’t you dare look at me like that!” He screamed so hard that his face was twitching. He stood up, rushed at her, and swung his sword.

She parried his attack with her sword.

He didn’t stop, slashing at her over and over again. While his swings were wild and sloppy, there was a lot of power in them.

She couldn’t keep up. One of the attacks grazed her foot. The next one sliced her right thigh. Blood trickled from the wound. “Ah ha ha! Take that! It’s what you deserve for making a fool out of me! Ah ha ha ha ha ha!!”

She glanced down at her thigh. “Are you really that happy about a cut like this!?”

“You say that now, but you won’t last much longer! Soon, you’ll be so numb that you won’t be able to move! This blade is covered in poison that is now racing through your body!”

She looked at the cackling Kempf and sighed deeply. “Pathetic. And you call yourself a general of Friege!? You think you can compare to my brother when you wield a weapon like that!?”

The moment he heard those words, his eyes opened as wide as they could. “Are you saying that I’m inferior to Reinhart!?”

Olwen looked at the infuriated Kempf and braced herself. Her right leg was starting to go numb.

“Me, inferior to Reinhart!? As if there’s anyone better than me!” He raised his sword and took a step forward.

She swerved her horse’s head and dodged the attack.

“Grr! Damn you!!” He turned around mid-step and saw her sword coming down at him.

It slashed his neck open.

Blood gushed from the gash, and he fell on his back.

“I pity you.” She looked down at his dead body and muttered.

Glade and the others had already defeated the rest of the enemies.

“I’m going to heal you now, Olwen!” Linoan said while rushing over to her.

“Okay, thank you.” Olwen dismounted her horse.

The moment her feet touched the ground, she fell forward.

“Ahh!” Linoan shrieked and extended a hand to Olwen in a panic.

Olwen was just as surprised herself.

The poison was clearly taking affect now. She couldn’t feel either of her legs and her hands were shaking a bit.

“You’ll feel better soon.” Linoan helped Olwen sit down, then raised her staff.

A pale light glowed from the staff, and Olwen soon felt at ease.

“Are you alright, Lady Olwen?” She saw Fred running up to her.

“Yes, thanks to Linoan’s healing.” She smiled at him.

Fred breathed a sigh of relief.

“I don’t think any more enemies are going to attack us for a while. You should rest for now.” Glade told her.

“Yes, I think I will.” She mounted her horse with Fred’s help.

Leif looked forward. He was breathing so hard that his shoulders were heaving.

The bodies of the imperial soldiers were strewn about on the floor.

“Now all we have left to do is get through this next area…”

He was referring to the area leading to the throne room. If he could seize the throne, then victory would be his.

“Yes, sir!” Dorias nodded vigorously.

“I think we should divide into two groups now, Lord Leif.” August suddenly suggested.

“Why, August?”

“I understand that there are two hallways leading to the throne room.”

“That’s right. But why do we need to go down both hallways, even if there are soldiers standing guard on both sides?” Leif asked.

August grinned at the question. “Earlier, I asked Lord Dorias about where the hostages are being held, and he said there’s a high chance that they are in a small room located down one of the hallways. I think we should free them first.”

“That’s a good idea.” Leif nodded.

“So we should have one group distract the soldiers while the other frees the hostages.”

“I see.” Leif thought the plan over in his head. “But what should we do if the diversion group ends up fighting General Xavier?”

“We have no reason to worry about that. General Xavier is always by Gustav’s side. He should be protecting the throne room.”

“Uh-huh…” Leif nodded and took some more time to think about the plan. “Alright. We’ll split into two groups.” He looked at everyone and ordered.

#fire emblem #fe5 #fe #thracia 776 #leif #finn #nanna #reinhart #olwen #japan #japanese #novel #light novel #translation #fe5 umemura novel translation #nintendo #super famicom #super nintendo #snes

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vapaus-ystavyys-tasaarvo · 8 years ago

Text

The questioning of the witness M. Millerat from the Saint-Merry trial transcript

This might not be the most interesting part of the trial but I felt like translating it anyway because it amuses me a bit and I felt like it and maybe it’s also enlightening in some ways? I don’t know. This is the very first witness who is questioned at least in the transcript (he might have been the first in real life too or it’s possible that some were edited out.) [x]

M. Millerat. On the 5th of June, at 7 in the evening, there was a group of young people, on rue Saint-Méry; they were accompanied by a general who may have been 60 years old; they stopped a carriage; the general gave the orders; the horses were released, the carriage was turned over. Then there were many national guards of the legion in front of the café, and all night people worked to build a barricade, crying: Long live the republic! In the evening, a detachment of national guards came; and the insurgents were the first to fire on them. At half past three in the morning, the 25th of the line came to take the barricade, but they were pushed back; they left at least 12 or 15 guns on the barricade. The insurgents, after having fired, cried: Long live the republic! and sang republican songs. They shouted to everybody who passed: Who's there? The next day they came and broke in through my door; they asked me for my gun; I told them I didn't have one; they called me Louis-Philippe. Seeing as I resisted, they took me forcefully to see the ones who had been killed; they in fact showed me two corpses, one of a bourgeois and one of a voltigeur of the 3rd light infantry; they let me go, I went back home. They came back to my home 12 or 15 times; they wanted to mount rubble-stones; I told them, in order to stop them, that two hours earlier my wife had been condemned to death by the faculty of medicine, and that they would make her die even earlier. When I said that, my wife came down. "Ah! You're lying to us!" they said. "No, no", I continued, "that isn't my wife, that's the nurse who is looking for some syrup to prolong the last moments of my poor wife; you wouldn't want to shorten the days of a mother of a family." — "No, no", they said, "you seem like a good b......; go care for your wife", and they went away.

Q. Did they ask for wine? A. Yes, and they took a lot, saying: "Go, Louis-Philippe, you'll be paid well"; but I didn't receive much money. — Q. Which regiment was it that seized the barricade? A. It was the 42nd regiment of the line that saved us from the slavery in which we had been since twenty three hours. — Q. During the day, were they constantly firing? A. I saw an adjutant-major killed as well as a grenadier of the national guard; they fired at every moment.

The accused Jeanne. I'd like to ask the witness if he's sure of having seen a general?

The witness. Yes.

Jeanne. There wasn't one, I confirm that on my honour, and I can do so.

The presiding judge. Be careful, you may not have seen this general.

Jeanne. How was the witness able to see that we were the ones who started firing first?

The witness. From my window.

Jeanne. The witness said he hadn't left his stairs; but let's leave it at that. The witness says he saw two corpses, did he look at them?

The witness. Yes.

Jeanne. It is he who asked to see them.

Under the cut: I'm adding this bit that comes right after because I know some people here appreciate Maître Saunières as much as I do. :D (And also because it's kind of interesting.)

(Maître Saunières was Rossignol’s lawyer and a dear friend. Louis Rossignol was the negotiator mentioned here and one of the leaders of the barricade.)

@elliotenjolras

Me. Saunières. Did the witness see a negotiator who went to parley with the national guards?

The presiding judge. Witness, at eight in the evening or at ten in the evening...

Me. Saunières. When I pose a question, I understand its importance and I need it to be posed in the same terms as I've chosen.

The presiding judge. That is wrong; I may even refrain from posing the question if it seems useless to me for the purpose of uncovering the truth. Witness, at eight or at.....

Me. Saunières. M. le président, I insist, for I have the right to do so, according to the article 319 of the Code of Criminal Procedure.

Me. Saunières files the request and maintains with spirit that it would hinder the defense and deprive the accused of all their advantages if the presiding judge could at his discretion pose or not pose questions in different terms than the ones used by the accused.

M. Delapalme maintains, on the contrary, that just by the fact that the law had intended that the question would pass through the voice of the presiding judge, it had allowed this magistrate the right to pose it in the terms that to him seem the most convenient.

The court, after a quarter of an hour of deliberation, delivers the judgement that the presiding judge could, by the virtue of the article 270 of the Code of Criminal Procedure, cut off from the debate anything that could uselessly prolong it, he could, by extension, even refuse to pose the question, and with stronger reason reformulate it in terms other than the ones in which it had been presented.

The judgement also decrees that in fact, the presiding judge had not refused to pose the question and had been interrupted at the moment when he was about to pose it.

Me. Saunières. I do not intend to interfere; but I wish to remark that M. le président had only been interrupted because he presented the question in terms that were entirely different from the ones I had laid out.

The presiding judge. That shall be recorded in the proceedings.

After this incident, the question is posed to the witness who declares that he did not see a negotiator.

So as it turns out, apparently all the questions had to be posed to the presiding judge who would then pose them to the witness (or the defendant) in his own words if he wanted. The transcript usually doesn’t mark this repetition though, so I assume that when it’s marked “M. le président” it really is just him talking, rather than repeating what others have said. Who is originally posing the questions when it just says “Q”, the judge or the prosecutor, I’m not sure.

This is an example of the republican/liberal defense lawyers fighting back in any way they could, trying to set favourable precedents. This happened a lot it seems. Sometimes it worked, this time it didn’t.

#charles jeanne #saunières #saint merry #translations #tbh this is just me procrastinating

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