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fletchphoenix · 4 years ago

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On Top Of The World

Heya gamers - sorry for the late update, I’ve been a bit busy today but still wanted to write so, here’s Chapter 7 of the Varigo Coffee Shop AU! Once again, thank you for all your support! Now, onwards with the chapter!

Word Count - 3587

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Moonlight paved the way for them as they walked through the darkened streets of Corona, still holding each other’s hands. Varian’s infectious laughters rang out and disturbed the darkness of night as Hugo told yet another terrible joke. Hugo joined in the sympathy of laughter, giving his boyfriend’s hand a small squeeze and resting his head against the others. At least it was his day off - now he had all the time in the world to spend with the younger teen and, as he looked down at Varian, he swore he could see the whole universe in his eyes. A little sigh left his mouth, happiness forming butterflies in his stomach and bubbling there.

He knew he was thinking way too far ahead (after all, they’ve only been together for a day) but all he wanted to do was to keep Varian forever. He knew he’d never have enough of the boy and he could never have enough of the boy. He was unique in the best way possible - with his buckteeth that still retained even now, despite his insistence they’d go away by senior year when they were freshmen, his little nervous chuckle he’d give when he said a joke followed by a little snort, the small blue streak that sat so defined against the mass of black hair on his head and stuck out amongst the rest. Stunning, Hugo thought. Absolutely stunning. Hugo’s train of thought was derailed by Varian’s voice finally speaking up.

“So, where are we going then?” Varian finally questioned, his eyes glancing up at the blonde with an excited smile on his face, “You’ve been awfully cryptic about this ‘date’ and usually you’re gushing about your ideas the whole time, so care to enlighten me to the madness of your mind?” Hugo’s breath hitched. Should he tell his boyfriend about his plans or should he keep it under wraps? One glance at Varian’s puppy dog eyes made the guilt well in his stomach and he decided, screw it, he’d have to tell the boy now. Goddamn that adorable face!!

“So, you know how it’s Christmas time? And usually the park puts up all these pretty lights that seem way too excessive? I’m gonna take you there. We can talk or buy some food or just relax and cuddle while we look at the stars. Whatever you want to do.” Hugo said with a smile, looking down at his boyfriend who, by now, had a wide smile on his face. It was a sight for sore eyes, seeing the boy’s eyes light up and look at Hugo as though he’d put the stars in the sky. It looked perfect against his scarlet cheeks from the bitter breeze and December weather. Hugo decided, in that moment, that he wanted to be the one to put that look on his face each and every time it graced his features.

“That sounds perfect Hugh. But first, I have to ask that we make a stop.” He requested, not even waiting for an answer for the other before moving in front of him to pull his boyfriend along. He tugged his arm and pulled him along the pitch black streets. Well, now it’s time for Varian to be mysterious about his plans, Hugo thought as he was tugged along by the boy of his dreams at 10pm at night. That was a sight he could get used to, the dark haired boy leading him to god knows where. No one else but them around.

It was almost unbelievable, really. A guy like him really didn’t deserve Varian - what, with all the bad things he’d done in his life. It wasn’t fair that he was keeping Varian oblivious to everything he’d done in his past and was doing now, especially after he’d opened up to him only the night before, but...Varian didn’t deserve to be dragged into his mess. They were his mistakes to clean up and he’d do it by himself. Maybe one day he’d confess all his problems and mess ups to his boyfriend, but now wasn’t time. He couldn’t risk losing the boy. Not now, not ever.

“Okay, here we are!” Varian declared proudly, stopping in front of a building. It took Hugo a moment to adjust and steady himself before he realised where they were: the infamous coffee shop. The thing that had brought them together. A small smile tugged at the corners of Hugo’s lips as he was, once again, pulled around and into the warmth of the store. It ran through his body like a rush of pure ecstasy and a pleased groan left his lips. As he looked around, he found it was virtually empty, except for a raven haired woman and her unusually silver haired girlfriend sitting at a table. One who Varian immediately recognised and called out to, running over to her with his hand leaving Hugo’s. The older groaned at the lack of his boyfriend’s warmth, walking over towards the counter to order their drinks - a vanilla latte for Varian and a black coffee for him.

“Cass!” Varian called out when he ran over, pulling the older woman into an embrace and closing his eyes. He relished in the warmth of his friend - it being a stark contrast to his body temperature, which felt sub-zero. He’d missed her so much since the...awkward dinner from over a week ago. A little noise of shock left Cass’ lips as she was virtually caged in a tight embrace on par with Rapunzel’s death grip. Little chuckles escaped from the woman accompanying Cass, before it broke out into loud laughter. She threw her head back, almost falling out of the chair as she did so. “Oh, who’s this?”

“Varian, meet my girlfriend, Irene. Irene, this is Varian.” Cass explained, her hands gesturing to the pair, a wide smile on her face. Oh, so this was Irene! She seemed lovely, piercings littering her ears which were almost covered by her curly locks falling over them. Freckles were dotted all over her face and hands, where a small, rose gold ring sat on one of her fingers. It was beautiful - diamonds embedded into the design which was bent into an infinity shape. A rose winter coat covered most of her figure, jet black leggings covering and protecting her legs from the chill outside. On her feet were some matching boots - heels giving her a little bit of extra height. She was really beautiful, Varian thought, as the woman put her mocha down and held out her hand.

“Oh, you must be Rapunzel’s little brother. I’ve heard so much about you from Cass, Eugene and Rapunzel. It’s a pleasure to finally meet the infamous Varian Ruddiger!” she commented, a slight accent ringing through as she spoke that Varian couldn’t quite place. It was beautiful though - albeit a little unrecognisable. Still, he eagerly shook her hand, happy to finally meet the woman.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too!” he declared, Hugo sauntering over and standing beside him. “Cass, Irene, this is my boyfriend, Hugo. And Hugo, this is Cassandra and her girlfriend, Irene.” he turned to face his boyfriend with a smile, pecking his lips and taking the vanilla latte from him with a hum of thanks. He sipped it and let the taste fill his mouth. Yep, he’d never get bored of that heavenly flavour, he’d associated it with Hugo by now. The taste of it brought back all their recent memories of dates and endless joy when around the boy. It brought a flush to his cheeks as he smiled and continued to take little sips.

“Oh, the pleasure’s all yours.” Hugo commented with a grin, laughing at the push he’d received in return from his tiny boyfriend. “Ow! Jesus Christ, hairstripe, I’m holding a coffee!” he laughed and leaned against the boy contently. “Jokes aside, V never shuts up about you. My theory is he has a shrine dedicated to you somewhere with how much he loves you.” Hugo whispered, much to Varian’s annoyance as evident by the eye rolls and folded arms.

“Noted. So, how did you two meet then?” She asked, Varian willingly indulging her in the ‘dramatic love story of Varian and Hugo the star crossed lovers’, as Hugo had put it. A smile crept onto her face as she watched the two boys interact, her arm looping around her fiancée. He really had found his soulmate, hadn’t he? She kept her eyes on the boy as he rambled on and on about every little detail. She’d never seen Varian this happy in his life, Hugo attentively listening with a ghost of a smile curling on his lips. They both clearly loved each other, she decided, as Irene shuffled in closer to her and rested a hand on her shoulder.

It has been four years since she met Irene, three since she asked her to be her girlfriend and exactly one week, four hours and twenty-seven minutes since she had proposed to her. She loved her unconditionally - Irene being the one to support her after her breakdown and crime spree in Corona and helping to put her back on the right path. Irene was all she could’ve ever asked for in a partner: kind, loving, understanding of her past...she was simply divine in every single way. And from the way Hugo looked at Varian, she could tell that he felt the same way as she did when she met Irene - happy beyond compare. It was adorable in her eyes - from the way they had met to their dynamic and how they seemed to compliment each other. Where Varian was shy, Hugo was confident. Varian easily responded to Hugo’s sarcasm and (terrible) jokes. It was a sweet sight to behold.

“As honoured as I am to have met you, me and Varian have a date to attend so..alas, we shall have to depart.” Hugo called out, dramatising every word with the back of his hand pressed against his forehead and his back pressed against Varian’s right arm. Varian just scoffed, shoving his boyfriend off his and shuffling out of the booth to stand. “Ow. A loving display from my beloved boyfriend. I can’t believe it!” Hugo gasped before standing beside Varian, reaching up to ruffle his hair happily.

Irene giggled, a welcome noise to Cass that just made her love the woman opposite her even more. “Aw, what a shame. You two are adorable and it was lovely to meet you!” she cheered happily, waving to them as they headed out of the store after saying their goodbyes. They sat in a comfortable silence before Irene spoke up, her eyes still gazing at the door. “He reminds me of you with the way he looks at Varian. It’s so full of love and affection...just like how you look at me.” She said, a smug grin on her face before taking her future wife’s scarred hand in hers and placing a gentle kiss against it. “It’s adorable. I think they’re cute.”

“I know they’re cute.” Cass responded as she pulled her closer. “We should invite them to the wedding, y’know. They’d make great guests.” She commented as she leant back against the cushions decorating the booth. “My god, these are so comfy...I love it.” with a satisfied sigh leaving her mouth as her girlfriend cuddled into her. She could get used to this..maybe she should invite the boys over for Christmas.

After a few more minutes of walking, Hugo and Varian turned a corner and gasped in shock. Lights blazed like a thousand tiny suns from string lights in the park, hung from the trees along with small Christmas decorations placed onto the trees. Varian grasped his boyfriend’s hands as they walked through the gates to the park and admired the beauty of the decorations.

Snow began to fall from the sky as they walked hand in hand, Hugo pausing to remove his scarf and wrap it around his boyfriend’s neck in a kind gesture, Varian noting that it smelt like cinnamon and apple - similar to the smell of Rapunzel’s house in fall. He let out a contented sigh as he moved closer and closer to his boyfriend, neglecting to notice the snowflakes landing in his boyfriend’s hair and on the end of his slightly crooked nose.

They passed decorations of reindeer, sleighs and toy soldiers in awe, linked hands and ran through illuminated arches in fits of laughter before eventually settling down on a bench with a perfect view of the lake in the centre of the pond. A hand snaked round Varian’s waist and he leant into his touch, resting his head in the crook of Hugo’s neck placing kisses to it. “Thank you so much, Hugo. All of this..it’s just been perfect.” he paused before adding in a whisper, “I love you so much, Hugo.”

“I love you too, Varian.” he muttered as he pulled his boyfriend closer to him, gazing out at the lake with the other teen in his arms. He bit the inside of his chest, feeling his heart hammering against his ribcage as he took a small box out from his coat pocket. “Hey so..I know we haven’t been together long, but...Varian, I adore you. So I brought you this.”

He handed a rectangular blue box to the other boy, tied with a green ribbon. With an eyebrow raised, Varian untied the ribbon and raised the lid. He was met with the sight of a necklace. The necklace in question had a vial the size of half of his pinky attached, filled with a teal liquid. He slowly raised it to his eyes, shaking it gently and gasping in wonder as it began to glow, casting a luminous blue light over anything in a one metre radius. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. He cast a glance over to see his boyfriend’s nervous face.

“You have no idea how long I had to research to make that liquid in the vial - I mean obviously I made the necklace myself, but I wanted to make it unique for my equally unique boyfriend. So...I added that luminous liquid into it! I..really hope you like this.” Hugo explained, rubbing the back of his neck and gripping the fabric of his coat tightly. “Please like it, please like it, please like it.” he silently pleaded as his eyes stayed fixed on his boyfriend, who was placing it around his neck with care. “So..what do you think?” he inquired.

He was knocked back into the bench, Varian peppering a billion kisses over his face while Hugo laughed and tried to push him off. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, filled with nothing but love as the snow fell around them. It was perfect - a moment that felt like it could be in the movies as they, for that one perfect moment, imagined it was only them left and everything else had fallen away.

The kiss eventually broke, Hugo squeezing his boyfriend’s hands with quite possibly the widest smile Varian had ever seen. “I should get you back, V. Just in case your dad tries to kill me if he finds out I snuck you out.” He uttered, rising to his feet and helping Varian stand too, his lips meeting his forehead. “You can keep the scarf too, by the way. It looks way better on you, love.”

“Thanks.” Varian whispered as they strolled back through the park, one arm linked with Hugo’s and the other fiddling with the vial around his neck. Hugo had really gone through all of that effort to make him a necklace by hand. He could feel himself falling deeper and deeper in love with the boy every second he thought about it, and at this point, he didn’t even want to stop falling in love with the amazing man walking beside him. He was so kind to him all the time, despite the way he acted around other people, and he cared so much about Varian regardless of how much he’d deny it. He really was everything Varian had ever wanted..huh.

Far too soon, they arrived back at Varian’s house. Standing on the drive, the boys silently said their goodbyes, placing kisses to each other’s lips with neither wanting to leave the other alone and be apart. Varian’s arms wrapped around Hugo’s neck and Hugo’s in turn around Varian’s, fleeting kisses becoming slow, deep and warm kisses after a few minutes while snow continued to rain down around them.

“V, I’ve gotta go, love. You’re making it hard for me to go-”

“Well then, don’t go. Stay with me for tonight. My dad leaves before I wake up on a morning, so it's not as if he’ll be here tomorrow morning to see you’ve stayed. Just..please. I don’t want to be alone tonight.” Varian muttered, his hands trapping one of Hugo’s between them as he gazed up at him with desperation in his eyes. Hugo uttered a small string of curses under his breath, the offer truly tempting and, combined with the boy’s desperate expression, he finally gave in with a little nod.

The two climbed the lattice, opening the window and entering trying to be as silent as possible. As Hugo turned to close the window, Varian changed into pyjamas and lay down on his bed to silently watch his boyfriend remove his coat and shoes. He looked so breathtaking even when doing normal things, something Varian truly couldn’t comprehend as the other boy moved methodically, folding the jacket and resting it on the desk. As he turned, he smirked at his boyfriend, who’s face flushed red and looked away. “See something you like?” he muttered as he moved to lay beside the raven haired boy.

“Maybe I do, what are you gonna do about it?” Varian challenged, letting Hugo pull him back into a kiss - however this one felt different to the rest. It told Varian everything Hugo wanted him to know without saying anything at all, filled with unspoken lust and passion towards him. His cheeks flushed as he let the older boy take control, a small whimper-like moan leaving his throat as the kisses trailed further down to his neck. “Hugo. Hey. We should get some sleep.” he muttered, however his legs wrapping around the blonde’s waist told him what he truly wanted.

“Alright, hummingbird.” the other whispered as he laid beside the younger boy, relenting and disregarding the lust bubbling in the bottom of his stomach. His arms wrapped around Varian’s waist, securing him in a tight hold as he nuzzled his face into his shoulder. “You’re so beautiful, love. So beautiful..” he muttered as he slowly drifted off to sleep. “Goodnight Varian, I love you..”

“I love you too.” The other murmured as he lay awake in his boyfriend’s embrace, though sleep was finally starting to catch up with him. Everything was perfect - he had the best boy in the universe sleeping beside him, his family (bar his dad) loved him and everything was going swimmingly. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel a storm was brewing. Nonetheless, he pushed the feelings aside as he let sleep take him far, far away, his boyfriend’s embrace being the last thing he remembered.

Quirin rubbed his face as he let out a groan. Disappointment was settling in as guilt twisted like a dagger in his chest. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh towards his son - he was just worried like any sane parent would be if their child just one day spontaneously didn’t show up to dinner with his brother and sister. He let out an exasperated sigh and began the trek upstairs, fully intending to apologise to Varian.

He knew it had been hard for his son - the divorce from his mother having its toll on the boy along with his coma and involvement for the saporians before he’d even turned eighteen. But Quirin was trying to relate to his son, to mend the wounds that had formed between them, but it was difficult as hell when his son only saw him as strict. He just wanted what was best for him - even if he didn’t get it across to him in the best way. He loved the boy with all his heart - that's why he’d completely redecorated the basement of the house as a makeshift lab for this year’s Christmas present, but they just had no common ground. He loved farming and the simple life, whereas his son loved alchemy and all things science. He was just like his mother, Quirin thought, with a soft chuckle leaving his throat.

He knocked the door to his son’s room gently, pushing it open a crack to see two boys in the single bed in the faint light provided by the hallway. The stranger, a tall, blonde boy, was laying on his back fast asleep with an arm round Varian, whose head was resting on his chest and snoring. A soft smile crept onto Quirin’s face as the pair slept, resorting to closing the door as silently as he could.

So this was the mystery boyfriend, Quirin thought, as he walked down the hall to his room with a smile on his face. The boy seemed nice enough, though there wasn’t much you could learn about someone while they were asleep. Nonetheless, he walked into his room and shut the door. He’d talk to Varian about it tomorrow, but for now he needed to get some sleep.

#varigo #varian and the seven kingdoms #varian x hugo #varian tangled #tangled varian #hugo tangled #tangled hugo #alchemy boyfriends #varigo coffee shop au

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trashunlimited · 6 years ago

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so...i wanted to get chapter 2 out of the way, since i finished it ahead of time. still working on chapter 3! i will post it when it’s done though. if you’re curious on the amount of chapters, the original had...17..so there you go.

chapter 1

tagging: @nightshade1994, @charmingfury, @oldblackhat, @glampyra

Later on in the day, Julie left to go get some groceries, mentioning to Rick there were some things she needed to get. She told him she’d be back soon enough, and left carrying her purse.

Rick took this time to look around the house, looking for anything suspicious. He got off the couch and limped around, searching as best as he could. But, despite the lengths he searched, he couldn’t find anything, she just seemed to be a normal girl, mundane and simple. To be honest, the worst thing he found was her collection of romance novels.

Because he couldn’t find anything off in the slightest, this made Rick think perhaps she was trustworthy. While he still wasn’t willing to open up or completely trust her yet, the chance of him doing so was certainly increased. As much as liked being around her already, he felt that once she knew the truth about him, that she would hate him.

After his search, Rick went back to the couch and decided to just kick back and relax. It was a little hot out, so he took off his lab coat and shirt, leaving him topless. He turned on the TV and began to watch it, feeling bored out his mind. He started thinking about Julie, how nice and hospitable she was towards him….how pretty she was..he tried to shrug that last part off, but it kept coming back to him and he didn’t know how to feel about it. At this point, Rick was simply attracted to her looks, and he was sure it would be nothing beyond that. As much as he was lonely and longed for company, he thought love was ridiculous, just a chemical reaction in the brain that compelled animals to breed. Despite this, he simply couldn’t stop thinking about her.

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Julie returned home around noon, carrying a few bags of groceries which she set on the counter. She turned to see Rick, who was staring back at her, and her eyes widened when she saw he was topless. His body was muscular, but not overly so. He was well-built, with only a few hairs on his chest and in...another place..thankfully, he didn't seem to notice. “Are y-you g-gonna say something or..?” He asked.

“Oh right! Yes...I’m sorry..” She said, flustered and embarrassed. “Are you feeling better?”

“A little.” Rick admitted. “I mean, there’s still a bit of pain and I still have to limp around, but it’s not as bad as last night.”

“That’s good.” Julie smiled. “I think you should continue lying down though, and not move around too much, your wound still needs time to heal properly.”

Rick remembered when he had been snooping around earlier, but decided maybe it wasn’t best to bring that up. He had seen the nursing degree she had, so he knew she hadn’t been lying about going to nursing school. He was aware that she knew more about this kind of stuff than he did. He looked at the bags of groceries on the counter and thought of something to ask. “Did y-you buy wafer cookies?”

“Why yes I did! Did you want any?” She questioned.

“Yep.” He grinned. At this, Julie pulled out a box and handed it to him, watching as he opened it up and happily began munching on one. She watched him, feeling amused by how excited he was eating that wafer cookie. She was glad Rick was doing much better than he had last night. Her hope was that he would continue to improve, and maybe...they could become friends. Julie had a few friends, but she didn't have much, being very shy. She liked the prospect of making a new one, even if things had started out a bit rocky between them.

She joined him in eating cookies, and two began conversing with each other. Slowly but surely, their conversation became more relaxed. Julie found herself laughing and blushing a few times, she was really taking a liking to him, as he was with her.

After some time, Rick decided to ask her something he’d been curious about. “So, do you live by yourself?”

Julie nodded. “Yes...it’s...just me.”

“Do you actually talk to anyone? Or..what?”

She looked down nervously, before finally answering his question. ‘I have two best friends...but that’s it really..”

“No family?”

Julie didn’t like this question, Rick could tell it made her uncomfortable. ‘M-Must’ve h-hit a nerve...uh…”

She managed to regain her composure and smiled at him. “It’s okay, I guess I could ask you the same questions.”

Unlike Julie, Rick showed no problem answering those questions. “I live by myself too in a dingy apartment. I don’t talk to my family, I cut off all contact with them. As for friends...I...don’t have many either.”

That was when Julie realized they shared some very personal things in common: they both were lonely, they both lived alone, and they both didn’t talk to many people. She was curious on why he didn’t talk to his family anymore, but figured the answer was too personal, so didn’t bother to ask. But she liked they were already similar in a way, it felt nice. “Do you...want to be friends?” She asked shyly.

Rick’s eyes widened. “Really? Y-You….w-w-wanna be f-friends?”

She blushed, feeling nervous. “Yea..we..we both don’t have many people in our lives, and I really like the idea of having a new friend..I mean..um...if you’re okay with it.”

He was surprised, but also happy. Despite his trust issues, he did enjoy the prospect of making a new friend. “No! I’m...I’m fine with it. Friends?”

“F-Friends..”

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Later on, Julie began making supper for the two of them. She had asked him what he wanted to eat, and he told her he was in the mood for burgers and fries, so that’s what she made. She brought out some condiments and such, not sure what Rick liked on his burgers, and ended up helping him over to the counter so he could pick exactly what he wanted. When they put their burgers together, Julie only ended up making a simple cheeseburger with ketchup on top. Rick on the other hand, had covered his burger in condiments and dumped pickles onto it, he had even doused his fries in ketchup, making Julie laugh. Rick found he liked the sound of her laughter, it was...cute...but as soon as he thought of that, he shook it away, he was not going to be thinking things like that.

Julie also found Rick’s silliness charming, he was already able to make her laugh and smile. It was something she appreciated a lot.

They decided, since Rick still couldn’t move around much, that they should just watch a movie. So, Julie used the dial on the TV to flip through the channels, until they found a movie and started watching together, while eating. After the movie, Rick found Julie had fallen asleep. He chucked to himself, and poked her until she woke up. “Julie..you fell asleep.” He informed her, a grin on his face. “Was the movie that boring?”

“Ah..no no it wasn’t!” She said, feeling embarrassed. “I was just tired I guess.”

“Then I suppose it would be a good time to go to sleep.” Rick shrugged.

Julie seemed fine with this. “Alright, I’ll just clean up first, then we can head off to bed.” And that’s just what she did.

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On a distant planet called Fyralog, the home planet of the Fyralogin Empire, their empress Pyri was talking to one of her best generals, Cyn. She had found out a piece of their empire’s fuel source was gone, and was enraged, if even just a piece was gone it jeopardized their entire empire; the fuel source was vital, providing electricity and power to the rest of their empire, they needed that piece back. The security cameras had captured the thief, well-known criminal Rick Sanchez. He was highly dangerous, so she knew this task would be difficult.

“Cyn, despite being a powerful general, and one of the best in our empire, this is still a very dangerous task, Rick Sanchez isn’t someone to be messed with, he’s not just anyone after all. By agreeing to this, you’re putting your life in danger.” Pyri warned him.

Cyn looked annoyed. “Yes, I’m well aware Your Imperial Highness, he’s one of the most wanted and dangerous criminals in the entire galaxy. You think I haven’t heard of that guy? I know fully well who he is.”

Pyri sighed. “Cyn, I hope you are taking this seriously. That man has the capacity to destroy entire worlds, he is not to be taken lightly.”

“Oh I am, but I still believe I am fully capable of apprehending that criminal myself.” Cyn boasted. “And you know what I’ll do? I’ll kill him myself, since he’s so dangerous, it’s better to kill him than to just simply lock him up.”

Pyri had heard of all the things Rick had done in his short few years as a criminal, and it made her worried for Cyn’s safety. But, he was her best option in retrieving their fuel source, she didn’t have much of a choice. “Fine. The information on him and his home planet Earth will be provided to you on your ship, go on now, I have other duties to attend to.”

Cyn grumbled, a bit annoyed at her simply dismissing him like that, but she was his empress, he had to obey her and respect her.

Once he arrived on his ship, he pressed a button, and a bunch of info on Rick popped up in front of him.

Name: Ricardo “Rick” Sanchez

Home Planet: Earth

Species: Human

D.O.B.(on respective planet’s years): ****** ** 1947 C.E.

Age: 31 years old

Gender: Male

Sex: Male

Criminal Record:

Rick has committed numerous crimes since his crime spree began a few years back. He is a murderer, a thief, has committed armed robbery and has been spotted doing illegal drugs. He is able to destroy entire worlds at the drop of a hat.

While his crime spree has too many crimes to count here, those were his most notable ones. He has also committed lesser crimes like public indecency and disturbance of the peace.

He is affiliated with two other criminals known as ��Birdperson” and “Squanchy”, it is suspected they are all part of a band called “The Flesh Curtains”, but whether or not it is actually them is yet to be determined.

WARNING: HIGHLY DANGEROUS, AVOID AT ALL COSTS, ONLY APPROACH IF ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY.

Cyn brushed off the warning at the end. He had already helped capture and take down other notorious criminals, Rick would be a breeze.

Next, he pulled up the info on Earth, which even managed to provide the planets coordinates.

Earth is a planet located here ************ within the Milky Way Galaxy. It should be noted Earth is a very primitive planet, with their dominant species homo sapien sapiens, better known as humans, being very backwards and barbaric.

Because of this, it is not recommended to approach this planet. Humans are noted to have very primitive space travel, only able to reach their moon. They can’t understand or comprehend the rest of us. While they can be observed from a distance, talking to them is not a good idea, they may try to kill you.

Cyn had a good chuckle out of this, humans being barbaric savages, to him, made this whole thing even easier. It would be very simple for him, not a challenge at all, Pyri was wrong to be so worried for him, he had this covered.

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A few days later, Rick’s leg had healed enough to the point where he no longer needed to limp around anymore. So, he decided now he was able to use the fuel source as he had intended to.

Using what he could find in Julie’s garage, he put together a gun, and fueled it with...the fuel source of course. He grabbed a box that was empty, and fired at it, causing it to explode, but nothing else. The loud noise from the explosion startled Julie and she ran into the garage. “Rick! What was that?”

He gave her a wicked, devious smile, and started laughing maniacally. “I did it Julie! It worked!”

“What worked?”

“The f-fuel source! I used it to power this,” He pulled up his gun. “And I fired it at an empty box, and the explosion sound is the noise y-you heard, hope y-you don’t m-mind.”

Julie breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s fine, just...warn me next time okay?”

“O-Okay.”

Julie then realized something. “If you can walk around now, um, that means...you can go now..” She didn’t sound very happy saying this.

“Yeah, I can g-go now, but don’t worry, we can still talk to each o-other.” Rick assured her. “I’ll give you my phone number, and you can give me y-yours.”

Her face lit up at this. “Really? That’s a great idea!”

So, they wrote each other’s phone numbers on slips of paper and exchanged them. Rick soon left, looking solemn. He had grown fond of her, and knew he would miss her, but at least they could still talk to each other.

He returned back to his apartment, and placed the slip of paper on the side table next to his bed, planning to call Julie tomorrow. Rick then took his “explosion” gun with him to his lab, and placed it on the table. Now, he could get back to his projects.

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

Cyn had finally managed to end up at Earth, but now he was faced with the issue of finding where exactly Rick was, but with the press of a few buttons, he turned on the tracker of his ship. He would find him sooner rather than later.

so..some of you may be curious of the fyralogin empire, i made it up! i figured there had to be some great power in the galaxy before the galactic federation, and when i tried to use the federation as the enemies in the past, it didn’t work it out well...

i also used some real world empires as inspiration, namely the british empire and roman empire...make of that what you will. i am a history nerd..i guess that’s also why writing a story set in the past was so exciting to me, i did a lot of research into the 1970s, as well as the 1960s and 1950s for this story.

#my writing #rick and julie

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acsversace-news · 7 years ago

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One of the big questions surrounding The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story was how the show would translate Andrew Cunanan’s killing spree and the titular designer’s death into episodic drama. While last season’s The People v. O.J. Simpson mined much of its emotional climaxes from re-enactments of hours of courtroom footage, there appeared to be less detailed source material from which the show could spin stories.

As we learned more in this week’s episode, the show borrows inspiration from Vulgar Favors, a book by Maureen Orth. The Versace family dismisses the book (and thus at least parts of the show) as conjecture and rumor. This includes some dramatic license to flesh out history and exploring Versace’s (alleged) HIV-status.

The source material might lend the final product to something more sensational (read: trashy) than what we were treated to, but thankfully even the poetic license is tempered by another collection of stellar performances. Darren Criss continues to defy his teen dream Glee fame with chilling intensity. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Ricky Martin (as Versace’s partner Antonio) is merely serviceable, turning in something more akin to a daytime soap performance. Luckily, many of his scenes are shared with Penelope Cruz, and no one wears tragedy and beauty better than she does (even in her Donatella drag).

Let’s recount the story as told in last night’s episode, “Manhunt.”

1994: A frail Versace and Antonio make their way through a hospital corridor. Once they’re assured there is no press, the doctor informs Gianni that there is treatment now. The not-so-subtle subtext: He’s HIV-positive, a fact that’s never been confirmed abut Versace and his family denies to this day.

His condition further fractures the relationship between Antonio and Donatella. She blames Antonio for leading Gianni into dalliances with men over the years, thus resulting in the diagnosis. Despite Antonio’s assertions that Gianni was a willing participant in these romps, Donatella refuses to see her brother as anything other than a traditional family man. Antonio is quick to point out, they’re not “allowed” to have that kind of family.

May 1997: Andrew Cunanan heads down to Florida through Florence, South Carolina in the red pickup truck he lifted from a recent victim. At this point, he’s already wanted by the F.B.I. for four previous murders.

He checks into a seedy seaside motel, and, after sweet talking the woman at the front desk by pretending to be a naive, French fashion student, he meets Ronnie (New Girl’s Max Greenfield).

Ronnie tells Andrew about how he thought his life was over when he found out he was positive, but the new drugs gave him an unexpected new lease on life he wasn’t prepared for.

Andrew tells Ronnie that he had a relationship with Gianni back in San Francisco, much more than we’ve seen so far. He also tells Ronnie that he lost his best friend and love his life to HIV/AIDS.

Meanwhile, the Miami F.B.I. is being briefed about the manhunt for Cunanan. The Miami detective wonders why they hadn’t handed out flyers yet and why they’re not canvassing the popular gay hotspots like nightclubs and the cruising beach. They explain Cunanan works as a sex worker and murders his johns.

And that’s exactly what he’s up to. Ronnie leads Andrew to the cruising beach to pick up a john. He meets an older man who takes him back to his hotel. Once inside, Andrew asks about the man’s business (he manages 5,000 employees), but the man assures him he can be submissive. “You have no idea,” Andrew responds before wrapping the man’s head entirely in duct tape, covering his eyes, nose and mouth.

As the man struggles to breathe, Andrew prances around the room, relishing the power. At the last moment, he punctures a hole over the man’s mouth, allowing him to breathe. Then he makes the man order him lobster.

The man is shaken, even asking the room service attendant to come back for the plates in 30 minutes. Andrew regales him with tales about taking lobster lunches as a child, before leaving. The man puts back on his wedding ring, calls 9-1-1, but can’t tell them the story for fear of outing himself.

Two central themes are at play here. The first is how Andrew is driven to dominate successful men, men he believes were blessed by the good fortune that never smiled on him in the ways it does in his stories. More than the fact the man is closeted, it appears that Cunanan is more interested in punishing him for his power, not his shame.

Not that shame isn’t a factor in this story. While the show doesn’t put shame as a motivator for Andrew’s murder, it does seem to be suggesting that discomfort with the gay community impeded the authorities.

July 1997: Months later, Gianni and Donatella argue about the direction for their next Versace runway show. She wants emaciated models dressed drab, while Gianni is all about celebrating life. They decide she can dress her models, and he will dress his. Predictably, Gianni’s models steal the show.

Later, Gianni toils over his sketchbook while Antonio busies himself with a pretty young thing. The next morning, Antonio tells Gianni that he’s done with messing around and wants to marry him. “You can say it in the morning, but can you say it in the evening?” Touché.

Elsewhere, Andrew pawns the gold coin we saw in episode one. The shop clerk (Cathy Moriarty) takes a look at him like she knows him from somewhere, glances over at the wanted posters — IF ONLY THE F.B.I. HANDED OUT THOSE FLYERS, Ryan Murphy screams in the audience’s faces — but since there is no poster of him, she gives him the money.

Cunanan’s been casing the Versace compound since he’s been in town. One night, he sees a Donatella drag queen attempt to shout her way in, but Gianni lovingly shoos her away from his balcony. Jackpot.

Andrew rushes home, grabs his gun and gives Ronnie some cash. When Ronnie asks if their friendship was real, Andrew instructs him that should anyone ask, they were never friends.

On his way out, Andrew stops at a sub shop where one of the sandwich artists recognizes him from America’s Most Wanted. Cunanan grabs his tuna sub (gross) and leaves before the cops arrive.

He ends up at a nightclub called Twist, one of the hotspots the Miami F.B.I. suggested flyering earlier in the episode. (IF ONLY THEY— yes, yes, Ryan Murphy, we get it.) Earlier in the evening, Versace and Antonio were there, too. They left before Andrew arrived, but not before Antonio can tell Gianni that, yes, he still only wants him.

Inside the club, Andrew meets a boy and rattles off a list of his occupations: finance, cop, paperback writer and, of course, serial killer.

After Gianni’s Death: Donatella dresses the corpse before cremation. She packs up the ashes and carries them on a flight without Antonio.

It’s a small scene, but it speaks to another way Versace’s sexuality impacts this case. The series is poised to explore the perceived legitimacy of Gianni and Antonio’s relationship, as two gay men as well as two gay men who also slept with other people. By taking Gianni’s remains, it’s clear Donatella believes Antonio has no claim.

What did you think of this week’s episode?

#acs versace #towleroad #article #recap #review #2.02 #january 2018

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mysdrymmumbles · 7 years ago

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Andraste’s Witch - Chapter 71 - SFW

Pairings: Slowburn Cullen x F!Witch!Inquisitor

Rating: M for later chapters which will include violence, PTSD, withdrawal, angst, body horror (think red templars), and possibly other stuff that I will be sure to tag. This is not actually a grimdark story, but I just wanna give people a heads up for stuff that will happen. There will also be fluff and friendship and magic (though to be fair, this is Thedas, so magic will not always be positive and very rarely as adorable as that last statement implied).

Genre: Action/Adventure with elements of romance

Summary: Finley and her group reach Denerim, and she finds she’s not quite prepared for what she finds there.

Thank you all for reading <3

Andraste’s Witch

Chapter 71 - The King and Inquisitor

Cullen was a good sort, but damn if his timing wasn’t terrible.

Or, more accurately, still eerily like a templar’s.

Of all the things Finley’s demon had told her, the one that bothered her the most was that King Cousland supposedly had something on her linking her to her parents or…perhaps their killing spree or the demon itself or…

Something that would not paint her in a good light, and she was well acquainted with what happened to mages who were painted thus.

Tranquility or death, and seeing as her left hand was rather important, tranquility seemed more likely.

There were rumors already of templars who wished to make her tranquil. The mark had its own magic, and so how could it be hurt if only hers was cut off? That was their reasoning.

So long as she was a timid healer, they would gain no purchase, but should it come out about her childhood…

Even Cullen wouldn’t be able to save her.

He would try, wouldn’t he?

After all, he might still have the instincts of a hunter—as he so aptly displayed over and over—but he hadn’t the heart of one. There was caution, unease, but no drive to extinguish.

She was fairly sure of that.

If he did try to keep her safe, he would just end up a fatality when the odds proved too great against them.

And if he didn’t…

Even if there was some semblance of truth to what the demon had said about him not trusting mages—he was wary of magic—in all the time she’d known him, he was nothing but kind and gentle and…

And so, what she had really worried about after the demon’s conversation was whatever might be in King Cousland’s hands. It might be nothing, it might be something that noted that her mother was an abomination or that she’d been dragged around by blood mages for years, a quiet witness to their crimes.

It might say that her blood had been used in their rituals.

She’d yet to come into her magic at the time, but that would hardly matter to templars and those who feared mages.

Truly, whatever the king had would be a bigger problem to deal with, especially now that she was the center of attention. Who would trust her if word got out that a demon thought itself her mother? People would insist she was practicing forbidden magics or…

Everything was such a mess.

She’d avoided Cullen.

She didn’t know how to tell him, if she should tell him. If word got out before she could be the one to reveal it, it would damage her credibility and people’s trust in her, but if she could take care of things so that it never got out, there would be no need to bring it up. Ever.

It had eaten at her.

As much as she hadn’t wanted to look into it, solely because a demon had told her of it, it had gotten too deeply under her skin, and so she’d sent word to Donovan. He knew the most of her history of anyone, and if she was going to have someone help her, it was going to be someone who wouldn’t have their jaw hit the floor the second they learned anything. He’d likely pieced together most of what he didn’t outright know, anyway, so most of it wouldn’t be too surprising.

So she’d sent for him, and his response had been surprisingly swift. She wasn’t sure how he’d been so close to the capital, but she supposed the Bracillian Forest was a place he liked to visit on occasion, so it wasn’t too odd.

And where he wandered in his free time was hardly her business, unless he required help.

He’d gotten word to her, and she’d gone off to meet him. When she’d found another message saying he was running a tad late because of rather brutish templars, she’d taken to washing her hair, if only to keep herself from going to search for him.

After all, she couldn’t leave the Inquisition. They’d have a manhunt for her, and would keep her much closer to the heart of their little party, if she did. She’d lose what few freedoms she had left.

And then, as she waited, Cullen had arrived.

She didn’t know if she believed in the Maker, but he was an odd sort, if he was real.

Or maybe he was kind.

Sending her Cullen as a gentle reminder that she wasn’t alone.

Silly as it was, just being around him made her feel safe, and more than that, when he’d come to her, he’d looked so…lost.

She didn’t want him to look at her like that, like he was abandoned or forgotten.

When he’d knelt there, asking her what was wrong, so sincere and sweet, she’d fumbled for how to explain. How to put into words her past, her fears? How to tell him things she’d never told anyone?

She’d tried, frustrated to find that nothing came to mind seemed to really express what she was trying to say. She adored him, and yet, she knew that there were boundaries that had to be kept in place because of their positions, and that along with everything else just made everything so damned complicated.

One way to uncomplicate things would be to just talk to him, of course.

It was a horrifying notion. How many times had people turned away from her or simply on her for her past dealings? She didn’t want him to be one of them.

But he needed to know.

If no one else, she wanted to tell him, if only to see if he’d still look at her the same way.

The words had stuck in her throat, even as she tried to force them, about the demon, its warning to her, its words of him, and how there might be something threatening the Inquisition and Finley in Denerim.

And then he’d kissed her, and it had all slipped away, unimportant details in a moment that was so perfect. A moment demons and monsters couldn’t reach.

Then, just as she’d finally found a reprieve from all the tumultuous thoughts tumbling in her head, Donovan had shown up.

He’d just had to remind her that there were things other than her commander that needed to be done.

She hadn’t even needed to see him to know he was displeased with how she’d chosen to pass the time waiting for him. He’d stepped on a damned twig to catch Cullen’s attention, and then the mood had been killed, because she’d known damned well that he wouldn’t go away and let them finish.

He’d dared the camp, meeting her in her tent after Cullen had wished her a good night, a chide instantly falling off his lips about how careless she was being.

She had to agree with that.

The fact that she’d even considered telling Cullen about her demon was baffling. He might not be a templar anymore, but she doubted he’d want to know she had a very specific demon whispering to her and keeping tabs on him. That it had followed her for years. That it was the reason for her eyes and not some Maker-sent miracle.

Her fingers brushed over her forearms, an action she’d developed after healing away the scars her parents had left her. That smooth skin had been a reminder that the past could be left behind, where it belonged.

As she adjusted her seat on the damnable horse she was seated atop, her fingers brushed against the scar the red lyrium had left behind, and she flinched.

She’d poured more magic than she should have into trying to heal it, but it was still a horrible dark red streak.

It felt a little like a warning, that maybe the past couldn’t be buried after all, that something would always resurface.

Tugging her sleeve down, she glanced around the street, trying not to feel claustrophobic.

They’d said that Val Royeaux was bigger than Denerim, that compared to other capitals, Ferelden’s was relatively small.

It didn’t feel small.

The buildings were packed so tightly together that their walls touched, and they stretched up awkwardly, like strange stacks of old, neglected wood. It was an entire forest razed and then propped up in an awful mockery of what it had been.

The roofs made the sky hard to see, and there was…smoke. It crowded out the blue that should have been overhead, and made it harder to breathe. Well, that and the smell of too many people too close together.

And the people themselves, they were everywhere, like a swarm of ants crawling over everything.

Big, judgmental ants who didn’t seem pleased that the Inquisition had come into their city.

She tried not to look at the crowds, instead thinking about how Donovan and Sera were both out there somewhere. Sera was meeting with other Red Jennies to gather information, and Donovan was headed toward the castle to scry for what the king might have and find a way to get to it.

It probably took a few hours to wind their way through those awful, narrow streets and to the castle, but it felt like it took so much longer.

Despite trying not to watch the crowds, Finley’s eyes were drawn to them anyway. Her gaze was met with fear and awe and disgust.

Some saw a religious blessing, others a mage grasping for power.

How she wished they could have come in a little group, cloaked in the dark of night, with no one but unreliable witnesses there to see them.

This procession was doing nothing for them, she was sure.

Nevertheless, she held her head high and somehow managed not to hunch her shoulders or forget to breathe.

As they finally passed through the castle gates and dismounted, she heard a pronounced sigh and looked to her side to see Ser Yorric had already dismounted and stood beside her. Even as she glanced around for Cullen and her other advisors, he let out a low whistle. “The Doglords aren’t the friendliest lot, are they?”

“Yorric!” Ser Jensen’s hiss came from her other side, and even as he sported an apologetic look and said something, Finley couldn’t help but feel how surrounded she was by templars.

Even with Josephine’s desperate plea that Finley not scale anything while she was there, she couldn’t help but glance around for ways to higher ground. There were plenty—sills to be hoisted up on, worn bits in walls that could be climbed, trees and the like dotted the area, too, likely in some unnecessary pattern that the people here found appealing.

She couldn’t see it, but she’d already learned that everyone in the Lowlands felt it necessary to bend nature to their own preferences. They couldn’t bear it free as it ought to be.

“I’m sure things will go better once we’ve been able to talk to the King and Queen,” Ser Jensen offered with a quick nod.

Generally, it was hard for Finley to tell when templars were being honest rather than just trying to lull her into a false sense of security so that someone could stab her, but she nodded back at Ser Jensen, figuring she would stay alert regardless. If he turned on her, she would have the upper hand by expecting it.

Before she could offer some platitude in response, they were being ushered up to the castle. It was larger than Skyhold, the building far better kept, and—even surrounded by guards as she was—she felt so vulnerable walking up the steps.

As she reached the top, Cullen and Cassandra flanked her on one side, and Josephine and Leliana on the other. ‘Her’ templars were just behind her, and she could feel each time one of their gazes passed over her, or focused upon her. It made her want to press her back to a wall, though there were none close enough, and she doubted anyone would appreciate her sprinting to one.

There was a single moment where the world seemed to stand still, where she looked over all the foreign faces of the assembled party waiting to greet them, searching for signs of how this meeting would go. It was a moment where anything seemed possible, even turning their entire procession around and going back to Skyhold, to continue their work without all this political nonsense.

In a breath, the moment was over.

A regal woman with blonde hair wound up in an intricate style offered them a kind, political smile and a nod, and suddenly introductions were flying, and people were talking, and Finley was very sure important things were going on, but she couldn’t keep up.

Every time a question was asked, someone else spoke up, offering assurances and all the right words that she would have never thought to say.

Smooth as they were, she was fairly certain she was supposed to do some of the talking, and fretted that her silence might be interpreted a million different ways.

She tried not to fidget. Tried not to edge back a step, to ease out of the center of the group and just run.

However, even as she fought to keep her calm, it occurred to her that there was a person missing from their midst.

She peered around, puzzled as she recalled names and put them to faces, inspecting clothing and signs of stature, trying to piece together who exactly was there.

“Inquisitor?” The blonde woman, Queen Anora, spoke so eloquently, her posture perfect as that single word brought all the other talking to an immediate stop. “You seem worried.”

“No,” Finley exhaled, struggling not to flinch at how quickly her reply had come. Her mind was hissing at her that no one liked an anxious mage. “I…It’s an honor to meet you, your majesty, but I had thought we were meeting with both you and your king.”

“I am sorry to say His Majesty, my husband, is entangled in some last-minute dealings, and will be unable to speak with you until later this evening.” Her smile wavered just long enough to show sympathy before it was back again as she turned and motioned toward the building. “Come, I will have you seen to your quarters so that you may freshen up before the meeting.”

Finley’s ‘thank you’ was lost to the voices that resumed their conversations as they began to file into the building in what felt somewhat like a death sentence.

…-…

Her day had not gotten much better.

Once in their quarters, Finley had been subjected to a bath in water that was entirely too warm and then the…helpers had set in.

Had she not fixed her hair up the night before?

It didn’t matter to them as they attacked her with combs and the dresses that Josephine had ordered for her. She noticed the one she’d hemmed was decidedly missing. It was one of the better jobs she’d done, and she found herself taking offense to its absence—after all, anyone who spent their time paying close attention to others’ hems had little in the way of a life.

They undid her hair just to redo it the exact way it’d been put up that morning, and Finley wanted to throw things at the lot of them.

Or to ask Cullen to throw things with her.

He, however, didn’t make an appearance until well after her tormentors had stepped away—some a bit more hastily than others as she eyed them. Without regard to what people might think, she’d made a point to sit as close to him as she could as her advisors discussed what had happened. Most of the reports were quick, with simple statements about security and safety.

And then Josephine had taken the floor.

Finley hadn’t known a conversation could be analyzed so completely.

Every breath she’d taken had apparently spoken volumes to everyone they’d met, and there was some damage done, though it was ‘manageable’ if they played things smart.

Her question about the king had made it seem like she didn’t value the queen’s presence, so she would have to be sure to show extra enthusiasm toward Queen Anora and the other nobles who had met her. Her silence could have been interpreted to mean she didn’t trust the Ferelden Court, that she was plotting, or that she was unsure of herself, and it would take some effort on everyone’s part to redirect that to show that none of those assumptions were true.

Finley had progressively leaned closer and closer to Cullen as the conversation and preparation for the later meeting dragged on. It wasn’t until her shoulder bumped his, however, that she noticed. Jumping, she nearly bolted from the room before realizing it was just Cullen beside her.

He reached out and squeezed one of her hands gently, and she held on to him for dear life as Josephine took in a slow breath through her nose. The scraping of chair legs drew her attention away from Cullen’s gentle, worried expression to see that Josephine had dragged her chair closer to Finley.

“Listen to me, be honest about your intentions.”

“Why would I lie?” Finley muttered, pulling Cullen’s hand into her lap so that she could clasp it with both hands. “They’re good intentions.”

“Yes,” Josephine hesitated, leaning against her knees a moment before straightening up.

“You have a tendency to deflect, inquisitor,” Leliana spoke softly, sauntering over and leaning against Josephine’s chair.

“It can be useful in certain situations, no doubt, but it is obvious that something is being hidden when you do that,” Josephine explained. “For you, it may be that you do not wish a friend’s home to be found, but to them, it will likely come across as more ominous.”

“I am well aware of how quickly people think the worst of mages,” Finley muttered before she could stop herself.

Cullen tensed at that, but even as she turned to him questioningly, Josephine reached out and put a hand on top of theirs. “Finley. It is not fair that they will judge you so harshly, but I know you are a good sort. And you can make them see that. Just…try not to be…so…”

“Obstinate and argumentative?” When Cullen and Leliana both let out half laughs at that, Finley nodded slowly. “I will try to be friendly. And to remember titles.”

After that, things seemed to be set into motion again. Everyone was called speak with those who worked under them, and even though not all of them left the room, Finley still felt surprisingly alone. As she sat there, wishing Cullen hadn’t left the seat beside her, Ser Jensen abruptly slipped into the chair beside her and leaned toward her with a familiarity that elicited a frown despite herself.

“Have you checked the view from the windows of your chambers yet, inquisitor?”

“What?”

The templar made a motion with his head and Finley’s gaze followed toward the door that led to the back room of her chambers—that they had all these rooms to give to single people was bizarre and lavishly unnecessary—and then back at him.

“The gardens are lovely.” When she only narrowed her eyes further, he rolled his eyes and leaned closer. “Just take a moment for yourself, would you?”

Despite not understanding what he was on about, Finley got up and wandered back to her chambers, giving a hesitant smile to a few maids who were waiting to be of use. When she was in the room, she found the muffled noises from outside to be somewhat soothing and unnerving at once. She was glad to have the space, and yet she couldn’t help but feel vulnerable.

However, even as she debated whether or not she ought to go back out, a head popped up in one of the windows, and then Sera was climbing in. “Friggin’ took you long enough. Sent word to one of your templars to help out. Was starting to think he was a useless sort.”

“He just came to me,” Finley murmured, abruptly considering Ser Jensen in a new light. If he was willing to help Sera…

“Look, there’s word that something strange is going on at the castle, yeah? But I can’t get heads or tails of what. There’s talk of ghosts and magic and witches and…whole lot of it don’t add up to nothing in particular, but it’s off, so I thought you should know. Might just be jitters that a mage is about, might be nothing.”

Finley’s mind went to Donovan. “A mage?”

“Y’know, you?”

“Right…” Finley glanced down at the dormant mark, taking in a slow breath as she abruptly wondered how safe Donovan was out here.

“Saw some weird stuff drawn on some of the walls, too. Got magic in it, but it’s not like what I’ve seen you cast or nothing.” Sera pointed over her shoulder. “Wanna see?”

As she started out the window, Finley followed her, but stopped when one knee was on the sill. “The meeting is pretty soon. If I go missing…assuming nothing else kills me, Josephine will.”

“Ah, yeah. That’s true, innit?” Sera frowned, leaning against the window from the outside before glancing around and climbing back in. “Don’t look especially like you wanna go.”

Finley tried to run her fingers through her hair, only to scowl as her pinky caught on one of the braids that had been used to keep up her bangs. She swore quietly as she freed her finger, pulling loose a lock of hair with it. “Everything I say is apparently so important. Everything I don’t say just as much. Everything is so…”

“Piss on that,” Sera scoffed, leaning against the wall beside the window. “They’re just people, much as they don’t want to admit it. Treat ‘em like you would anybody else, yeah?”

“That’s exactly what Josephine’s been telling me not to do.”

“Well, she’s on about how you get snippity with strangers and templars asking too many questions, I think,” Sera shrugged, mulling it over and letting her gaze wander idly around the room. She made a few faces as she noted various statues near the walls and corners. “How’s this then, words come easy enough, right? You’ve probably got a collection of ears somewhere that you’ve talked off and all that. That’s what she doesn’t want you to do. So talk it out like I’m there. When they’re wrong, pretend I’m wrong. ‘Cause I listen, yeah? Plenty of shite I don’t know about, but you make it make sense. Like them weird leaf birds of yours. You explain it right, it makes sense, I’m not wrong anymore. Then, if those oh-so-important-nobles stay wrong, you know they aren’t a friend and to be careful. Ignore them or find a way to make Josie deal with them. You focus on the people who go right.”

Finley slumped against a desk near where Sera was leaning, considering it. What Sera said made sense. “I’m not used to presuming people to be friendly.”

“All the better. The nobles think they’ve got you figured out, so they won’t know what to do. They get lost, you see the snakes better.”

There was a knock at the door. “Inquisitor?”

Finley nearly missed Sera as the elf hopped to the window to make a quick get away. “Sera, wait!” When her friend paused, she reached out and plucked a leaf from near the window, cupping it carefully and then holding it out as a gold glow seeped into the leaf, making it a shade lighter. “I have a friend on the grounds. This should help you find him or him find you. Show him those spells written?”

Sera took the leaf carefully between thumb and index finger, appraising it with a frown. “I need to do anything special with it?”

“No, just…let it guide you.”

“Inquisitor?” It was Leliana’s voice.

She straightened up from where she was leaning at the window as Sera disappeared into the gardens, turning just in time to see Leliana standing there. “It’s time.”

What happened next felt like it dragged on for eternity, and Finley found herself wishing dearly for one of those fade outs that happened in some of the stories Ser Caudry had written for her, to have the time lapse and just be done with it, to the outcome, whatever it might be.

However, considering that another blackout like that would likely mean that a demon had claimed more of her memories, she supposed it was well enough that she was so miserably aware of every step down the hall to the private chambers where the nobility discussed…whatever it was they discussed. Laws and how to cut their shrubs, most likely.

Of the Inquisition, only Finley, her four advisors, Ser Yorric, Ser Jensen, and Ser Barris entered the large chamber. There were no windows and the rafters overhead would be miserable to reach—especially in a dress.

For the first time, Finley chose to simply hope an escape would not be necessary rather than trying to find which wall would give her the best footing up.

Bann Barris was already waiting for them along with a Bann Raeor. The two of them were the most vocal of the Ferelden court to support the Inquisition, though they assured them that many others thought well of what they were doing as well.

They talked about who would need to be swayed and what would need to be promised, and Finley did her best to keep track, feeling a bit of relief when Josephine whispered that making those promises could be directed to her.

As more of the Ferelden nobility filtered in, people began to take seats and Finley followed the rest of them to a seat that had been set up across the table from where the largest chairs were. She could guess who would be in those.

However, they had yet to arrive, and instead she sat there, looking about cautiously as she mulled over the things Sera had said.

As Leliana discussed with a bann about how they wished to close the rifts, but there were some they were hesitant to go to, as they did not want to be seen as a military force trespassing on Ferelden soil. The woman hardly seemed pleased with the assurances.

Finley was just wondering if Leliana’s accent would make more of the nobility on edge when a tap came from the table near her and she turned to see a man had taken a seat next to where the queen would be sitting. Bann Barris sat beside him, and she guessed he must be Bann Raeor.

“You know, you closed a great many rifts in my land,” he offered, with a polite, reassuring smile. “I cannot tell you how pleased I was with that. We were afraid we’d have to give up on crop harvests this year, with so many rifts near the King’s Road.”

The woman who had been talking to Leliana turned away from her conversation and let out a nasal laugh. “Ah, yes. That was the problem.” Even as Bann Raeor and Bann Barris both gave her an annoyed glare, the woman looked back at Finley. “Tell me, when you were in Bann Raeor’s land, what did you think of it?”

There was an awkward hush that fell over the table as the different nobles turned to her, and she could just see Josephine holding her breath out of the corner of her eye.

Talk to them like a friend…

“I’m sorry,” Finley offered a little tentatively as the bann gave her an expectant look. “I’m a little weak with…geography names. I have been learning, but there is so much, and a great many countries and as much as Lady Montilyet tries, not everything sticks with me quickly.”

That elicited laughter from a few of the Ferelden nobles. Bann Raeor held up a hand to quiet them. “You know, I had a cousin like you. Names were not his forte. Give him a map and he’d get lost, but tell him to turn left at the big tree with the broken limb and then head south until you see the stacked stones on the far hill, and he could get there before anyone else. My bann is mostly wooded, in the middle of Ferelden…”

As he kept going, Finley perked up, and after a moment, she waved for him to pause. “You’ve got the town with the windmills on either end and the skipping ponds—”

“That look like a swarm of snakes, I’m told.”

“Oh, it does.” Finley nodded.

“I’ve never had the imagination to see that,” he admitted, with a laugh.

Even as Finley offered that she remembered ‘his’ lands as having looked quite lovely—where the demons hadn’t rampaged, of course—another bann began describing her own lands, and it became somewhat of a game as Finley found herself piecing together Ferelden based on plants grown and faces whose names she could slowly associate with places.

“Tell me,” the bann who had sought to embarrass her fellow noble earlier insisted, smile in place. “I have heard you are not Ferelden, and you certainly lack the accent, but you are no Orlesian, either.”

Finley knew of the unfriendly terms between countries, and Josephine had told her of how much the nobility resented each other. However, there had been something of a talk about how she needed to not offend either country, as they would need to work with both.

And so for the first time in almost an hour, Finley felt like perhaps she was in a trap.

Pity they couldn’t just resume the bann game. There were still a few swaths of land she didn’t have a noble to place with.

No question came after the statement, and so Finley finally gave the woman a simple nod, repeating Sera’s advice in her head. “I am not Orlesian.”

The bann—what was her name—tilted her head. “But you are southern. If you are not from Ferelden, and not from Orlais, where are you from?”

“South.” The reply was out before Finley could consider that perhaps she shouldn’t say it.

“South,” the bann echoed. “South of the south.”

“Yes.”

At that, there was a bit of a hush, and then, rather abruptly, a laugh came from the doorway. Turning, Finley found a man striding lazily toward the table. She might have mistaken him for any other noble, were it not for the heavy metal circlet that rested in his hair, similar to Queen Anora’s, and yet more prominent. She walked beside him, expression hard to read.

King Cousland.

Chairs scraped as everyone rose for them, and she followed suit, waiting until they were seated before falling back into hers, feeling oddly trapped to be so near the man who was so renowned for his dislike for mages.

“South of south,” he repeated with a laugh that sent a shiver through her, tilting his head and appraising her, skipping any and all introductions. “So then, you admit that you’re a witch.”

The man had a crooked grin, and a look that said he had a plan. Donovan hadn’t given her word as to what he might have on her yet, but even as he spoke, the earlier fears of whatever he might have over her stemmed, if only a little. It was entirely possible to have something damning on her, but being a witch was not one. If this was his grand trump card…

This would be a dance she knew well.

“Your majesty,” she murmured, dipping her head as she’d been taught. “There are a great many people who live south of Ferelden, myself included, and the only ones I know of who claim to be witches are little more than mages who fear the bite of the blade.” She paused before adding, “Usually newly escaped Circle mages who somehow think that making themselves seem more dangerous will get people to leave them alone.”

“But not you.”

“I have never claimed to be a witch.” She’d said this before, to Cullen. She thought over what he had said, how he’d drawn conclusions and how his thinking had gone. She took in a slow breath and then motioned to him in what she hoped was a polite manner. “However, there are those who have mistaken me for one.”

“And what do you do when you’re dubbed a witch?”

“I move to a quieter part of the Wilds,” she replied simply, honestly. “Nothing good comes with a witch’s mantle.”

There were a few murmurs of approval from the nobles that struck her as surprising.

At that, King Cousland leaned against the table and stared pointedly at her. “Are you trying to tell me that you don’t believe in witches?”

“You do?”

Even as the demon’s whispers that he considered himself a witch hunter echoed in her mind, he shifted back in his seat, pleased with himself. “I’ve slain both Flemeth and one of her daughters.”

“Which one?”

“Her name was Morrigan.”

Even as the king smirked, Finley lightly clasped her hands in front of her, biting her lip a moment before giving him her best polite smile. “Forgive me, but I meant which Flemeth?”

Silence settled over the entire table.

The room was so quiet that Finley couldn’t help but feel like she was the only one breathing.

When no one spoke, Finley fought the urge to look to Cullen for support and instead glanced at Josephine to see how badly her comment had hurt them. However, the ambassador’s face was neutral. Leliana, however, had a twinkle of amusement in her eyes, and Finley took that as the encouragement that she needed. Looking back at the king, she shrugged lightly.

Like a friend, like a friend, like a friend…

“I simply mean, as I said, there are some mages who decide that being a witch will keep them safe, and I know half a dozen who claim the title Flemeth.” Mages she knew could be hurt if the wrong information was disclosed, but…these people knew there were mages out in the Wilds. If she kept her stories vague or out of their reach… “I’ve known others and heard of a great many more than that, though most of them meet unfortunate ends rather quickly. However, there’s a lovely little old lady in what I think would be south of Orlais who calls herself thus. She’s the sweetest thing until you walk through her rutabagas.” Finley reached up to scratch at her ear, annoyed that her hair was tied back too well to play with. “You wouldn’t think someone who liked plants so much would be so adept with fire, and yet…”

Bann Barris tilted his head. “Crossed her, did you?”

“I lost an entire coat to her fire.”

The bann let out a surprised laugh. “And what did you do?”

“Well, I didn’t walk through her rutabagas again.”

The laughter at that was such a burst. There was incredulity and amusement and…Finley felt like maybe this wasn’t as scary as she’d thought it was.

“So then, you’re not the Green Witch?”

The words had a harsh edge, and she could see that the king was less than amused with her story.

Like a friend…

“When it comes to titles of witches, it is generally several different mages under one mantle,” Finley offered. “I have helped people out of the woods before, so perhaps some of the Green Witch’s stories are based off of me.” It scared her to talk about this, but even as she felt like she couldn’t keep going, she considered how she’d wanted to tell Cullen more of her past before, of how she wanted him to know. Taking in a breath, she thought of Sera and of Cullen and of Donovan. Of the rifts and the places they hurt. “I know I was mistaken for the Witch of the Dales simply because I was a mage traveling through them once. I’ve probably been called Flemeth. It doesn’t make me her. Names in the Wilds do not mean as much as they do here. They are given, taken, and claimed on whims, really.”

“Is that why you have difficulty with them?” the bann from earlier asked. For once, she didn’t seem to be angling to embarrass anyone else.

“It could be,” Finley said, sitting back a little in her chair. “Honestly, I never thought of it.��

“How does that work then, Inquisitor Finley?” King Cousland leaned his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers and resting his chin on his hands.

That was not good.

He knew her name wasn’t Finley.

“Forgive me if I flounder,” Finley murmured, tilting her head one way and then another. “I’m not quite used to explaining, but…let me use an old friend. Yeelha was her name. I don’t know if it was her birth name or simply one she chose for herself, but that was her name.” It felt like the fun from earlier had been a mere dream as she remembered her fellow apostate. “However, she had others, titles given to her by people who did not know her. She was renowned as the Siren of the South for many years because she loved to sing. She was a healer, someone who helped the lost, a gentle soul. However, she was tal vashoth, and after being seen by villagers who had never seen a qunari and couldn’t imagine one being so far south, they declared her a desire demon because of her horns and magic. The Siren of the South became a witch of malice, a desire abomination, and many stories of escaped Circle mages wreaking havoc were attributed to her. Stories of dozens of mages became those of one witch, a witch she had been named.

“She had to leave the home she’d made, but even though she left shortly after the Blight, you will still hear that the Siren of the South wanders the woods south of the Bracillian Forest. Any mage who stays there for more than a week will find themselves with that title, and it doesn’t matter that they don’t have horns or even sing, because people say the Siren is hiding her true form.”

At that, she paused, drumming her fingers against the table when no one spoke. “What I mean is, most of the titles are a little like how the Banns are tied to the bannorn, only in reverse?” She glanced at them, wondering if she made sense. “Except rather than the land named for the people, the people are named for the legend of the land. Mages come and go, but the title is always there, and so outsiders assume the person is the same. It’s how you’ll hear of witches who have lived for hundreds of years. The truth is, they didn’t. It was just different people being called the same thing.” She paused, frowning. “The only titles I know that aren’t set to particular regions are Flemeth and her daughters. It’s typically newly escaped transients who try to claim thus, which is why you’ll hear stories from all over the Wilds of all that Flemeth and her daughters do.”

No need for them to know that there really was a Flemeth, and that whoever the king claimed to have killed, it couldn’t have been the real Flemeth.

That hush returned to the room as she finished speaking, and she wondered if she should have told them anything. Part of her wanted to assert that the Wilds were still very dangerous and they ought not to go wandering through them, witches or no, but she held her tongue.

If there was ever a time she needed to stay on topic, it was now.

It was the king who broke the silence, finally. She rather wished he hadn’t. “In other words, according to you, any mage could pretend to be a witch, and the witches of legends are not real. You’ve never met a real witch?”

“I should think I would remember if I had.”

“Did you consider perhaps they are out there and you are not worth their time?”

At that, Finley blinked, a little surprised. She considered what to say a moment, before thinking about one of the few things that reoccurred in her mind frequently enough these days. “I am told that I can be quite stubborn, and a few months ago I think I would have argued with you about whether witches were real or not, but…I also would have argued that there was no way—magical or other—to split the sky open. It is…painful to admit, but it is possible they could be out there, I suppose.”

As she spoke, she could feel the king’s gaze bearing down on her, even without a spell to tell her so. She looked back at him to see he was staring hard. Apparently, he was not pleased with her concession. “You mentioned escaped Circle mages a few times. I take it you’re not a fan of the Circles?”

“I know very little of them.”

He watched her like a templar.

She wished he would stop.

“You’ve never been in a Circle?”

“No.”

“Then you’ve never been Harrowed.” He crossed his arms.

Finley stared at him blankly. She’d heard of Harrowings before, that it was when mages were fed to demons to try to bring down the population of the Circles. She was fairly certain it wasn’t quite what Donovan had said, but still…

Cullen was the one to speak up, and she loved him for it. “The Inquisitor has faced her share of demons over the last few months, and we are confident in her abilities to resist their temptations.”

“The ones from the rifts?” King Cousland asked, relaxing somewhat as he turned to Cullen. “I’d heard they were mad.”

“Those among others,” Cullen replied, voice sure and steady.

“The Inquisitor faced down an Envy demon at Therinfal Redoubt,” Ser Barris spoke up. “After being kidnapped, she maintained herself and fought against both corrupted templars and the demon controlling them.”

“Without her, you would not be alive,” King Cousland said. His gaze slid to Ser Jensen. “Nor you. The two of you are rather indebted to a mage, aren’t you?”

Finley felt her blood run cold.

She could see herself as a little girl, a large hand wrapped around hers as she stumbled after one of her templars into the woods. Hurry as they might, it hadn’t been enough.

She’s had her magic less than a week and she’s already corrupted a templar.

“You have been a good king to your people,” Cullen said, even as Finley felt like the world was growing fainter. “Dark magics are harming them now. Let us remedy this before the rifts become too much to handle.”

She wanted to kiss him.

“Oh, I have every intention of letting you handle the rifts and giving you whatever you need to do so,” King Cousland replied, a more genuine smile settling on his features as he nodded to Cullen. The complete change in his demeanor made Finley shift a little in her seat, despite herself. He’d been so…harsh, and yet he was going to work with them after all? “Once I heard you were the Inquisition’s general, I knew any mages—saviors or no—would be properly leashed. You’ve always been good about keeping them in their place.”

She didn’t really hear what he said after that, something about mages not being people or how Finley was a pet or…

Some small part of her heard the objections resound from her side of the table, and noted the way Queen Anora leaned over to hiss something in his ear, calm demeanor breaking for a moment into anger.

However, more than that, she was stuck on what he had said before the insults began.

Once I heard you were the Inquisition’s general, I knew the mages would be leashed.

As things started to calm down, she dared a glance toward Cullen, only to feel her heart sink as he quickly looked away, unable to meet her gaze.

Apparently she didn’t know where she stood as well as she’d thought.

#dragon age #dragon age fanfiction #andraste's witch #witch!inquisitor #cullen rutherford #cullen x inquisitor #cullen x mage inquisitor #action/adventure #romance #this chapter's a bit longer than the last few

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