#(possibly have a fic planned based on this song?? final goodbyes and final steps) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tobi-momo · 4 years ago

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You Belong With Me

“What was she so mad about?” Your voice bleeds through his phone as he scribbles on his homework with his number two pencil, sighing at your question. He looks up briefly to his window to see you at your desk across your two properties’ filing the papers for your math class, organizing your work. Your phone is sandwiched between your shoulder and your ear, your eyes narrowed as you focus on what assignments are what.

“Kei?”

He shakes his head as his mind snaps out of the daze, his golden eyes flicking down to his work. “Uh,” he sighs as he re-grips his pencil, “I teased her a little bit and she got mad,” he finished. You chuckled before covering your mouth with your hand, finally looking up at the man through your clear panes.

“You’re kidding,” you giggle, a smile leading onto Kei’s face while he listens to your voice, although refusing to look up at your face, he shakes his head in a joking dismissal.

“No, I’m not. But we are never mentioning it again.”

“Oh, good luck getting me to keep quiet!” You shout as your back straightens against your desk chair, a smug look playing on your face once the blond male looks up at you.

He stands up, a reciprocating smirk laying on his lips before he says, “You will,” before he takes his phone away from his ear, pressing the “hang up” button and raising his arm to close the drapes. You laugh with satisfaction while you exit his contact, turning on some music and tossing your phone on your bed before cleaning up your area and strumming your fingers like an imaginary guitar.

He opened his curtains expecting to see you sulking while doing your work, only to see you dance like an idiot while you blast your music, your pencils acting as a microphone as you perform your concert in front of your stuffed animals. He could hear the music from across the yard, him identifying it as your shared playlist that you two made a couple years back, the duration over fifteen hours as about three-hundred songs reside. An accidental chuckle escaped him as his eyes rested on your jumping figure for just a couple seconds. It was for entertainment. Yeah. That’s it.

~.~.~.~

Sticking your fabric marker on the construction paper, you write out your message to Kei.

“I love you”. It was a message that would tell him that he deserves the best and nothing less. It was something that you treasured and wanted to share that value with him. Something that told him that he belonged with you.

You hoped that one day you’d be able to give it to him, to tell him how you really feel, to show that you can do a better job than her, but you never got the chance. Carrying the folded slip in your pocket, ready to pull out, his phone rings. As you sit on the bench on the side of the road, you wonder how long it had been since you had seen him really smile. You had made him smile a lot before, even if he doesn’t smile a lot genuinely, there are some times where real happiness seeps through his facade. You like it when that happens, always have. You noticed how much his happiness had reduced over the course of these last few months, though.

He answers the phone very monotone, very uninterested. He sounded obligated while he spoke to his girlfriend, sighing sharply once he hung up.

“What was that about?”

“Just drama. Kind of sick of it at this point.” He sticks his phone in his pocket, looking over to your concerned expression. “It’s nothing to worry about,” he says while rolling his eyes, placing a soft hand on your head and letting it rest. His hand retracted quickly when the sound of his name rings through his ears, his head whipping towards his girlfriend's figure. He readjusts his glasses, sitting straight up and swinging the strap of his school bag over his shoulder before he gets up and sluggishly walks across the street, meeting up with the one he was set to have a date with later. He subtly waved to you prior to turning his head away and continuing his stroll with his date hanging on his arm. You ignore the glare served your way when you wave back to him, forgetting the multiple reasons of why you wanted him away from her so he can enjoy his date. Hopefully.

~.~.~.~

As you stand on the bleachers of Kei’s game, you watch him stride over the court and jump to block the ball, a playful smirk residing on his lips as he sends the ball to the other side. You clap for him, shouting praises his way in hopes he might hear you over everyone else. Especially her. The screaming and unnecessary noise making your ears bleed a bit. You didn’t mean to be irritated by it, but the pulse on your forehead and the grit of your teeth made it painfully obvious you didn’t really like her.

When the end of the game hit, you were overloaded with joy at Kei’s victory. You hurriedly make your way over to him before gripping him tightly in a hug, not caring about the sweat that drips off his body. You could feel his arms flex as he raised his arms to hesitantly reciprocate your actions until his arms completely dropped, his body stiff.

“What the hell?” He muttered under his breath as he firmly moved you aside to walk away. Following after him, you let your head peek out from the side of his back, watching it all occur in front of you. “What’s this?”

“What? Nothing, Kei,” she mewls, setting her hands on her boyfriend’s shirt as if she thought he was silly.

“Yeah, we were just, uh, talkin’.” The man before her fibs.

“Not according to what I just saw,” Kei accuses the two with a furrowed brow, fed up. You come out from behind him, glaring at his girlfriend in hate. This was it.

“Don’t worry about it, man,” the man dismisses, turning to keep the conversation with her going.

Stepping forward, you place an arm in front of Kei, stopping his movements as you eye his girlfriend. “Tell me you were not just flirting with this man and we’ll leave.”

“I wasn-”

“Don't,” you pause, taking a deep breath as you watch her take a step back, “don’t lie to me, or you will regret it,” you threaten, a sharp glint in your eye telling her that you are oh so serious about this. Behind you, Kei watches as you make his girlfriend stammer on her words, a subconscious smile leaking on his face.

She stomps away with anger, the man beside her moving away as well, scoffing.

~.~.~.~

He didn’t say much on the way home; you trailed behind him as he walked away in part anger and denial. You didn’t really know what to say. Should you go back and find the girl and beat some sense into her? Should you give some words of the wise to Kei? Would he even take it?

As you watch him slow down to match your pace, you grow confused. You were headed to your place, so why was he suddenly following? “Kei?” He hums in response, his head hanging low. “Would you like to stay at my place? I can make coffee and we can stay up shit-talking our least favorite people,” you giggle and softly bump into his side, a stifled chuckle escaping him.

“Whatever,” he mumbles with an obvious smile as he continues to walk with you. When you quietly shut the door and take your shoes off, you softly tread to the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine- the man that you took home followed, his arm planting on the marble counter as his eyes trail over your moving figure.

As you sit on the stool next to him beside your kitchen island, you converse about the drama he’s been scooped in, him rolling his eyes twice a minute and his irritation level going off the charts as he recalls the events. He hated it, you could tell. He made it pretty obvious he wasn’t happy about it, too.

“Are you still going to the dance with her tomorrow then?” You speak curiously, twirling your fingers around each other while staring blankly into the marble as you awkwardly sit there, awaiting an answer.

It takes him a second to respond, a long sigh and a deep thought coming into play in his mind once he looks over to your spaced expression. Does he really want to go? Did he want to go with her, or with someone else- you? “Probably.”

Oh. “Are you sure you wanna do that? After what happened today?”

“Why not. Nothing better to do,” he justifies, shrugging. Yeah, you probably should have seen that coming.

The note that resided in your pocket seemed to crumple a little bit when you came to terms with the fact that he may never notice you the way you wanted him to.

~.~.~.~

“Are you going?” Kei asks over his phone as he takes his suit out of his closet.

“Ah, no,” you breathe out as guilt pools in your stomach, your elbow balancing sitting on your desk while dozing off into something that is not mathematical equations.

“Oh,” is all he says before telling you he needed to get ready, giving his goodbye.

After the call ends, you see the light fading away from his room as he closes the drapes, giving you a sign to start working again. You wondered what would happen if you possibly showed up. You originally were going to go, but the date that canceled soon beforehand gave your mind a gentle squeeze, telling you that the dance wasn’t for you. Still, the tiniest urge told you to make an appearance. You groan in waver, giving in.

~.~.~.~

You felt good. You felt really good. Wearing your planned outfit to this dance, you make your way inside carefully, minding the crowd. You catch the eye of the one girl that you held a grudge against, watching her grope another man on the dance floor. You roll your eyes in disgust as you move your head around to find a tall blond in the crowd. He leaned against the wall across from you his arms crossed while his dilated pupils trace the light that bounces off the floor.

“Hey,” you greet him, his attention whipping to you as he raises his head.

“Hi,” he reluctantly answers you while standing straight up, a relieved smirk leading onto his lips. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“I didn’t want to put my outfit to waste,” you smile, spreading your arms to show your attire.

“Yeah, well you came at perfect timing,” he points towards his girlfriend which you identified earlier, although he seemed like he didn’t care all that much.

Gripping the folded paper in your pocket, you slip it out with two fingers confidently. “I have something to tell you,” you admit, your eyes staying centered on his black suit.

“Go on,” he eggs, hands staying at the side of his body while he watches you fluster yourself. It takes you less than a second to shove the note in his stomach and turn around, your face turning hotter and hotter every moment. Your hands lay against your cheeks as your nerves rattle beneath your skin, your ears tingling when you hear a sweet chuckle glide against his lips. “You should have told me a long time ago, Y/n. I wouldn’t have to deal with,” his eyebrows turn up as his head tips towards the dancing figure just a couple of feet away from you guys, “...that.”

You turn around slowly, disbelief covering your face when you look at his smug expression. “Are you kidding me? You’re telling me this,” you gesture at the both of you with your pointer finger, “could have been something a long time ago?”

He sucks in through his teeth, taking a grip on your arm and pulling you with him as he walks through the crowd to the middle of the room. “Yep. Guess you missed out.”

“Says you,” you roll your eyes with attitude as you pick up your pace and place your hand in his.

He knew he belonged with you, he was just wondering when you would admit that.

aaa here it is! three days of work! sry i havent been posting lately ive been working <3 (reupload bc tumblrs a little bitch)

REQUESTS: OPEN

reblogs are VERY appreciated!

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laprincesaelena · 4 years ago

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EOA Ship Appreciation Week Day 5: Meeting/Farewell

a/n: hi guys! thank you all so much for the positive feedback on my day 4 poem, i’m so glad everyone liked it!! as i said, i know every ship wasn’t included, i ended up having enough time to only do the ones that were requested! but, i’d definitely consider making a part 2, so if your ship wasn’t included this time, it may be another time..

anyways, on to day 5! you may notice i included both prompts here instead of just one..you’ll find out why ;) this story is inspired by an au @procrastinateland (s/o for the beautiful art once again!!!) i came up with together, based on the sound of music! but, this fic in particular doesn’t have much to do with the musical you probably know. my obsession besides elena this summer was researching the lives of the real von trapps who inspired the movie and musical, and through it, i found the adorable love story of the parents of the seven children (georg and agathe, maria wasn’t in the picture yet!) that i knew would be so sweet for gabelena. so that’s what this fic is inspired by! quick historical note, the events that this fic portrays happened in real life in 1910 and 1922, but the years have been switched to 1912 and 1930 for the au, since we decided to place our au closer to the movie’s timeline than the real story. also hi please talk to me about the von trapps i’ve been driving my gf crazy with my useless knowledge lmaooo

and that’s about it! hope you all enjoy this, and let me know what you think!

fic is below the cut!

February 10th, 1912

Lieutenant Gabriel Núñez was amazed as he entered the venue of tonight's celebratory ball, Villa Castillo. He had never been inside a home so grand before, he almost felt as if he didn't deserve to be there. But, regardless, he was invited to attend, along with all of his friends from the navy. He couldn't wait to get away from the structure and seriousness of the military for a night, and to just have fun.

This was the first ball Gabe had been invited to since he became a lieutenant, or ever for that matter, and he was loving it. It was hosted by the Castillo Flores family, a rich family whose inventions had earned them quite the fortune over the past century. As more guests began to make their arrivals, Gabe and his friends hung around together, mingling with other guests or testing out a drink or two. Then, the ball was to officially begin with a musical performance by the hosts.

Now, Gabe wasn't much of a believer of love at first sight, but with one glance, his mind was instantly changed. Standing beside her mother and grandparents, ready to perform their opening song, stood the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and Gabe knew he was in love. Sure, he knew he had no chance with her, as he was just a lieutenant from a humble family of bakers. She was the daughter of a rich family, and most likely the heir to their fortunes. But, there was no harm in trying, right? He knew that at some point tonight, he just had to talk to this beautiful girl.

Elena Castillo Flores, however, was different. She wholeheartedly believed in chance of falling in love at first sight, but she never thought it would happen to her. She had grown up around these balls, her family had been hosting them for as long as she could remember. And being 17, she had met plenty of men who hoped to marry into her family's fortune, but none of them seemed quite right. That was, until she was about to perform with her family.

She looked out into the crowd, and caught the eye of a handsome naval officer. She smiled softly in his direction, but didn't have time to do anything else, before she picked up her guitar, and began to perform alongside her mother and grandparents.

Gabe couldn't help but keep his eye on this girl the entire time she performed. She was a beautiful singer and guitarist, and Gabe loved hearing every word she sang, and each note she strummed. Before he could snap out of his romantic trance, the performance had ended. Gabe looked up to the stage to see if he could approach the girl, but she her family had left the stage, and were out of sight. So, it was back to just talking with his friends for now. Maybe a good laugh or two could keep his mind off of this girl. In between their backgrounds and the chances that she would choose him out of many much more qualified suitors, Gabe had a feeling this crush was bound to end in disappointment.

Eventually, Gabe stepped away to go and get his mind off things, but as he was walking, he accidentally bumped into someone. He was about to apologize, but when the person he had bumped into turned to look at him, he realized who he had bumped into: the host's daughter.

Finding his voice again, he said, "I-I'm so sorry for bumping into you, I should have been watching where I was going."

Every once in a while, as she sang and played her guitar, Elena would look out at the man she had seen earlier. He was quite handsome, and she couldn't help but notice the way he smiled at her. But, once the performance was over, she wasn't going to go looking for him. She knew it'd probably be hard to find him in such a big group. Besides, he was probably going to turn out to be like any other man she'd met, and would only take interest in the prospect of inheriting her family's money. So, she carried on with her night, accepting that she'd probably never see him again. That was, until someone bumped into her. When she looked at the person she bumped into, she couldn't help but freeze, it was the lieutenant she had seen earlier. He was the one to speak first, which snapped her back into reality.

“Oh no, no, it's okay! You're fine!" she assured him.

"Oh, alright" Gabe said. He mentally hit himself for not saying more than he did, but whenever he looked at her, he was at a loss for words. He could at least introduce himself, he thought, but every time he did, the words would be at the edge of his tongue, and he'd end up saying nothing. But, he was determined not to blow the only chance he'd ever have with her, so, he gathered up his courage to speak to her once again.

Elena too, would be so, so close to saying something, even just introducing herself, but before the words could come out, she'd freeze. She so desperately wanted to get to know him better, and she knew the only way to do so was to just say something. But, luckily for her, he said something first.

"This has been a wonderful ball so far." Gabe finally said.

"Oh, well, thank you.." Elena replied with a smile. "I'm glad you're enjoying it so far."

"I am" Gabe said, returning the smile. Finally, he decided, he was actually going to introduce himself. "I'm Lieutenant Gabriel Núñez," he said. "but you can call me Gabe."

Elena quietly sighed with relief, she was glad he introduced himself first, it gave her the confidence to do the same. "I'm Elena Castillo Flores," she introduced. "but you can just call me Elena."

"It's very nice to meet you, miss Elena," Gabe replied, with a bow of his head to her.

"It's very nice to meet you too, lieutenant," Elena responded. "Oh, I mean Gabe, it's nice to meet you too, Gabe." she added, and shook her head at herself. Hopefully she didn't blow her chance with him right then and there.

Gabe smiled and laughed softly, he couldn't help but fall deeper in love with the girl the longer he talked to her. He had managed to find her, talk to her, and introduce himself, but there was one more step with her he wanted to take.

"I hope this isn't too soon, but would you like to dance?" he asked.

Elena's face now lit up with a smile, it most certainly wasn't too soon, she was so excited he asked her to dance with him! She nodded, and held out her hand to him. "I would love to dance," she said.

Gabe took her hand with a smile, and lead her to the center of the ballroom. With one of his hands tightly in the grasp of hers, his other hand wrapped around her waist, the two began their first dance.

As the pair glided effortlessly across the floor, Elena still couldn't believe that this was happening. How did she ever get so lucky? But, she also knew that there was a possibility that he might have happened to only attend this ball, and she may never see him again. She truly hoped this wasn't the case, she wanted to get to know him better and spend more time with him, because she knew for a fact she was falling in love.

Gabe could barely believe this was happening either. This beautiful girl had really said agreed to dance with him, and now they were actually dancing? Gabe truly hoped that he wasn't dreaming, for he never wanted to wake up. He wanted this dance to last forever, so he would never have to say goodbye to Elena, and go back to living his life without her in it. There was hardly a chance he would see her again after the ball ended, but he kept a glimmer of hope that tonight was not their final encounter.

Elena wasn't paying attention to anything else around her, for all that mattered to her now was that she was actually dancing with Gabe! She planned to dance with him for the entire night, if it meant she'd be able to spend as much time as possible with him. She knew that once the ball ended, there was a high possibility of her never seeing him again. So, she was going to make sure to spend as much time with him as she possibly could, while she had the opportunity.

After a couple of hours of guests talking, eating, drinking, and dancing the night away, the ballroom began to empty out a bit. Elena brought Gabe outside to a balcony, so she'd be able to talk with him and get to know him better without any sort of distraction.

"So, being a lieutenant, I'm assuming you're in the military, the... navy, correct?" she asked him, to start some conversation.

"Yes," Gabe answered. "I joined as soon as I was able, I've always wanted to be a part of the navy. My parents, especially my father, aren't too happy I chose this path instead of joining their baking business, but this is what I really wanted to do."

"Oh, your parents have a baking business?" Elena asked him. "Not too much of a baker, are you?" she joked.

"No," Gabe replied. "and I'm not much of an olaball player either, to the dismay of my father."

"It certainly seems as if your father isn't too thrilled with your life choices... but do you love what you do?" Elena asked.

"Yes, I do." Gabe responded with a smile. "Besides, if I hadn't made the decision to go against his wishes and join the navy, I probably wouldn't be talking to you right now."

Elena smiled as she felt her cheeks warm up at his sweet response. She was so, so glad that Gabe decided to follow his own path in life instead of listening to his father, because if he didn't, they may have never met.

"Well, I guess you're right," she said. "and I'm glad that you're doing something that you love, that's what should really matter."

Gabe nodded in agreement. "What's your family like?" he asked.

"Well, there's me, my mother, my younger sister, my grandparents," Elena answered. "we're all pretty close, and we love to make music together."

"I can tell, you and your family sounded amazing tonight," Gabe said. "and not to be biased, but I think I liked your singing the most."

Elena smiled, and put a hand to her cheek, she was definitely blushing now. "Thank you," she said. "but I wouldn't say I'm the best of them, they're all very talented.."

"I would," Gabe responded, and reached down to take her hand in his own.

"Well, thank you.." Elena replied, holding Gabe's hand tightly back. "and I may be biased, but I'd say you're my favorite lieutenant, because I totally know all the others." she said.

Elena laughed nervously for a moment after that attempt at flirting. 'what was that, Elena?' she asked herself.

"Thank you," Gabe said with a smile.

"You're welcome," Elena responded, a similar smile never leaving her face.

"So, what do you like to do other than make music?" Gabe asked her.

"I love just getting out with my family most times, of course. We'll go on hikes, go sailing, go to one of our vacation homes or visit someone else in our family's home, we're always somewhere or doing something." Elena told him. "How about you?" she asked.

"I like fencing," Gabe replied. "We sometimes have competitions between my friends and I, and not to brag, but I usually win."

"I'm sure you do," Elena responded, definitely believing him. "and I'd love to learn to fence sometime, it actually looks pretty fun!"

"Well, I'd be happy to teach you," Gabe offered. "I'm sure it'd be considered "unladylike," but if it was just us, it wouldn't really matter."

"What my mother and grandparents don't know won't kill them," Elena replied with a wink. "I'd love for you to teach me sometime!"

"I'd be more than happy to teach you," Gabe responded.

"And hopefully you can sometime," Elena said, before sighing as she remembered the reason why she was so hesitant to find him in the first place. The chances of the two reuniting were slim to none. "I hope we see each other again..."

"Me too..." Gabe replied, looking down with a sigh as well. "Maybe we could write to each other? To keep in contact?" he suggested.

"I'd love that." Elena said, smiling once again at the thought of it. "We definitely should."

Gabe smiled. "Alright," he said. "I'll give you my address."

"And I'll give you mine as well, which is right here, but I'll still write it down so you'll always have it" Elena said.

"Thank you," Gabe replied. "I look forward to writing to you, and seeing you again, Miss Elena."

"And I look forward to writing and seeing you again as well, Lieutenant Núñez." Elena responded with a smile.

Gabe laughed a bit and rolled his eyes, but still smiled. "Please, you can just call me Gabe," he said.

"And you can just call me Elena," Elena insisted. "No 'miss' necessary"

"Alright then, Elena it is." Gabe said, smiling over at her.

"And Gabe it is." Elena replied, sharing the same, loving smile.

At that moment, the both of them knew that they had met the love of their life. Though they'd have a difficult road ahead, in between having to communicate with letters for a while or with Gabe often traveling with the navy, they were determined to make it work. Gabe was not going to let his beautiful Elena go, and Elena knew that tonight she had met the man she was going to marry. They were going to spend the rest of their lives together, no matter what.

September 3rd, 1930

On Christmas night of 1929, Gabe and Elena's oldest daughter began to feel unwell. It was simply strep throat, they were told, she should recover in a matter of days. But, by the time eleven year old Catalina had recovered, five of her seven siblings had fallen ill as well. The sudden illness turned out not to be a simple case of strep throat, but the highly contagious scarlet fever, which was currently spreading through the city.

Of course, Elena was always there to care for her children, even if she was risking contracting the illness herself. For the next few weeks, she was constantly visiting her children and checking in on them, while still trying to stay healthy herself. But, when her youngest daughter, Martina, who wasn't even a year old yet, came down with a severe case, Elena had no choice but to step in and care for her, twenty four-seven.

By the end of January, Elena's caring and motherly nature had led her to catching scarlet fever herself. In children, the illness tended to be fairly mild, but in adults, it could often leave behind serious side effects. Gabe knew this, and insisted that his wife take the time to rest in order to recover. But, Elena insisted that her children came first, wanting to be there for each and every one of them as they recovered.

But, even when all seven children were happy and healthy once again, Elena's symptoms had not subsided. Now, she could rest and recover with a sound mind, knowing that her children would be alright without her for a couple of days. Those couple of days turned into weeks, those weeks into months, and by the end of August, Elena still had a long road to recovery. She was now bound to a wheelchair, she would have to learn to walk all over again due to the toll the illness had taken on her body. She still tried to spend as much time as possible with her children, and be the happy, loving, and healthy mamí they had always known. But, deep down, she knew if scarlet fever had already taken so much from her, it could continue to do so.

Over the next week, Elena's condition quickly deteriorated, and it seemed as if only a miracle could heal her. Gabe had visited his wife each and every day for the duration of her sickness, but for the past day or two, he hadn't left her side at all. He knew that at any time, her condition could take a turn for the absolute worst, and he didn't want to take the chance of not having a chance to say goodbye. While Gabe tried his best to stay somewhat positive, and hope that his wife would miraculously recover, he knew Elena's time left was short.

Gabe's eyes were heavy as he sat at his wife's bedside, having stayed awake the entire night with her. He held Elena's hand tightly in his, even though Elena barely had the strength left to hold his. It broke his heart to see his wife in this condition, he would do absolutely anything to bring back the bright light of his life that was Elena.

Gabe's heart would sink as he noticed his wife's breathing become labored. He had been mentally preparing himself for the worst, just in case, but he knew that no matter how much he had prepared, he would never be ready if that moment arrived. He felt the slightest bit of relief when he noticed Elena slowly turn her head to look over at him, using all of her strength to do so.

"Elena.." he began to say, even saying her name brought tears to his eyes. But before he could say anything else, his wife managed to speak up.

"Gabe.." she said, her voice in a whisper. "Please..tell our children how much I love them.."

"Elena, no..no, don't talk like that.." Gabe said to her. Though he was trying to preserve his wife's positivity, he was also in denial about all this.

"Tell each and every one of them..each and every day..how much I love them.." Elena said. "And that I'll always be with them.."

Gabe held Elena's hand tight as he fought to hold back his tears, but even then, a tear or two would manage to fall down his cheek. He looked over at his wife, he still thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world, even with a scarlet red rash covering her cheeks, and her hair sticking to her fevered forehead. If it were possible, he would do anything to end all of her pain and suffering, but he knew that at this point, there was only one option for that.

Trying to clear his mind of these thoughts, Gabe nodded. "Of course I will.. I promise.." he said.

Elena smiled as best as she could, but to Gabe, it was the brightest smile he had seen out of her in a while. "Thank you.." she said. "A-and I love you..so, so much.."

"I love you too.." Gabe replied, and leaned down to kiss his wife. Thankfully, Elena was no longer contagious, but even if she was, Gabe would take that chance if it meant kissing his beloved Elena one last time.

Then, it looked as if Elena were about to speak, but she was unable to get any word out. Finally, a moment later, she managed to say, "And.."

Gabe patiently waited as his wife struggled to say a second word. He would wait for as long as it took her, he'd take any opportunity to hear the voice he loved so much.

"I'm..a-always.." Elena said, now needing to take multiple labored breaths between each word. Though it was a struggle, Elena managed to complete her sentence.

"I'm always with you.."

A moment later, after months and months of fighting to recover, Elena's body gave in, and her eyes slowly closed.

Gabe could feel his wife's grip on his hand loosen, and his heart immediately dropped. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't lose her.

"Elena? Elena! Elena, no! Mi amor, please!" Gabe desperately cried, hoping that his wife's beautiful brown eyes would open again. But no matter how many times he called her name, they remained peacefully closed, as her body grew paler.

Now, Gabe's denial began to truly set in. He lightly shook her, he held her hand tight, he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, all in an effort to wake her, even though deep down, he knew that his efforts were in vain. Finally, it all became too much for him, and Gabe just broke down. he couldn't picture his life without Elena, he never thought everything would end this way.

He thought of his wife, she had so much more to live for. she was a loving wife, a caring mother, his best friend. Then he pictured their seven children, who would now be growing up without their mother. He thought of their identical twins, though they were already quite different, they shared a similarity, devotion to their family. Catalina and Carolina absolutely adored their mother, and looked up to her, along with being her best friends. He thought of Luis, their oldest son, he was a mamí's boy. He loved cuddling up with his mother and listen to her play guitar, he wanted to learn from her one day. He thought of their youngest son, Marcelo, their bundle of energy, who sometimes even Elena couldn't keep up with. He thought of Luciana and Adelina, aged only five and two, who would be too little to understand why their mamí had suddenly disappeared. And finally, he thought of Martina, their baby girl who would grow up without a mother. She would never get know her mamí, or even remember her. In fact, he didn't know if any of their younger children would be able to remember their mother.

Gabe found himself growing a bit dizzy, since this all seemed like he was living a nightmare. His hands shook as he held Elena's tightly in his own, and his vision was blurred from his tears.

As his final moments with Elena played over and over in his head, he was reminded of his wife's dying wish. To remind each and every one of their children each and every day how much their mamí loves them. If Elena could see him now, she'd hate to see him this distraught. She'd encourage him to keep his head up and stay strong, but how could he ever move on in life without his Elena? His children. He knew he needed to stay strong and carry on for them. Though, of course, carrying on could take weeks, months, or even years, Elena would want him to be happy. But most of all, she'd want her children to be happy and loved as well.

So, then and there, Gabe dedicated himself to fulfilling Elena's wish. For the rest of his life, he would make sure his children are happy, healthy, and loved, just as Elena would do. Though it would be difficult to carry on without her, the Núñez Castillos still had each other, and that's what matters most.

#eoa ship appreciation week 2021 #gabelena #elena of avalor #my fics #sound of music au #i’ve been looking forward to this one lol #anyways as i said i’ve been pushing my von trapp knowledge onto my gf for months now so now you guys can have some too :)#also please let me know what you think if you read it bc i need to know if i’ve made you suffer™️#also also gabelena kids are mentioned here #seven of them this time!!#yeah they have a lot of kids what about it

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writingtoforgetreality · 5 years ago

Text

Just this one time (Steve Rogers x Reader - College!AU)

Request: Hey love I see that you are taking requests and I’m just in desperate need of a college au Steve Rogers moment lmaoo💀 maybe they’re best friends and there’s like this party that’s coming up and she dresses to the nines and was planning to confess her feelings there but sees him with another girl but happy ending and lots of fluff please | Or maybe a steve Rogers fic based on the song are you bored yet by wallows (by @jazzzhargrove), [Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: Steve & you have been roommates for two years now. You were best friends even though you have started to develop a crush on him. One day, Steve asks you to accompany him to a party of one of your friends. You agree, planning on confessing your feelings for him. At the party, a bad surprise awaits you…

Words: 4,310

Warnings: slow burn? (idk man, I didn’t mean for it to be this long), lack of experience when it comes to college (pls don’t blame me), Steve going from angel to devil to angel, a bit of angst, happy ending (I swear)

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

College. You imagine something when you hear this, am I right? Like, the cliché teenage movies with not enough budget that make you think you know what college is like. You were thinking the exact same not too long ago. Now you were here & nope, it was nothing like you ever imagined.

A bit over 2 years ago, you graduated from high school. Finally. You hated that place. The only reason you continued going there was because you wanted to get a well paid job in the future. Yeah, it was a hell ride but you made it out alive. Time to focus on college.

The first real problem had begun before your actual classes had started. Living far away from college meant that you had to live somewhere on the campus. You looked at the rent & almost shitted yourself. There was no way you could pay for this on your own. Your parents already made sure to pay your college tuitions so you could not ask them for more. So you decided to use your twitter account for something important for once. You sent out a tweet, asking if anyone would be interested in sharing an apartment near your college, preferably someone who studied there as well. Not too long after that you got a private message from the account @steve_rogers. He said that he was interested in moving in with you since he could not afford an apartment himself. Before you wrote him back, though, you checked out his account, making sure it was not a kidnapper or someone like that. His tweets seemed truthfully & he was of equal age. Perfect, right? You replied with an address of a coffeeshop near the campus & told him to meet you there. Two days later, you guys were sitting there, drinking a coffee & planning everything out. You were happy that he really was a Steve Rogers who would be studying at a college & not a…50-year old creep. What was even better was that this Steve was handsome as hell & had the personality of an angel. You also found out that he would be studying the same thing as you, Fine Art. He would be a good roommate. The two of you exchanged numbers before saying goodbye so you could stay in contact & ask if more questions appeared. You were happy. You found someone trustworthy who would share an apartment with you. That meant that both, Steve & you, had enough money to pay for the rent & to have leisure, too. You could not wait to move in & start your college-journey.

A month later, your parents rented you a truck to move all of your stuff into your new apartment. You were so excited. Not only for your new home but also because you would be meeting Steve again. Ever since the coffeeshop, the two of you had been texting & calling each other all the time. At first, it was simply because of your apartment but after some time, you just started talking casually & became fast friends. Steve told you he was already at your new home & told you you would love it. The drive seemed to last forever but eventually, you arrived. Steve was already waiting for you outside, wanting to help you with all of your boxes. You got out of your car, sprinted towards him & hugged him like you had known him forever. Weird…you had never had such a connection with someone. This was the start of a great friendship, you were sure.

*Present Day*

What's wrong? You've been asking but I don't have an answer How come? I'm still thinking, let's pretend to fall asleep now When we get old, will we regret this? Too young to think about all that shit And stallin' only goes so far when you've got a head start

“(Y/N)?“ Steve screamed from the bathroom. He always did that. “You know you can still ask me when you finish showering, yeah?“ you screamed back. “That’s not as much fun, though.“ he answered. You shook your head & let out a low chuckle.

A few minutes later, Steve exited the bathroom, wearing just a white towel which hung low on his hips. He did that so casually, like it was the most normal thing on earth. You wished he would not have this effect on you. When did you catch feelings for him? You were not sure. All you knew was that he acted like the best friend you had always craved. Why did you have a crush on him? You would never make a move though, not wanting to ruin your friendship. He did not like you that way, you were certain. He was just nice, that was his personality. He treated everyone like that.

“(Y/N)?“ Steve asked again. “Yeah, Steve, I heard you the first time.“ you said, trying to look at his face ,& not to his white towel, which was incredibly hard at that moment. Staring would make everything even weirder. “Trevor is having this big party tonight & he asked me to come.“ Steve looked into your (Y/E) eyes. Why did he tell you? It was not like you attended parties that often. He was someone who enjoyed these “college activities“ but you always got overwhelmed with big crowds. Steve knew this though. Usually, whenever someone had asked him to come to a party & you had told him you did not want to go, then he had always stayed with you at your room.

'Cause we could stay at home and watch the sunset But I can't help from asking, "Are you bored yet?" And if you're feeling lonely you should tell me Before this ends up as another memory Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie? Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie?

“Um…okay? And?“ confusion was written all over your face. What was his intention? The two of you made plans earlier, wanting to stay in to study together. “Well, I wanted to ask you if you wanna accompany me. Trevor would be fine with it, I’m sure.“ he scratched his neck, knowing damn well that you never were in a party mood. “Are you serious? I thought we’d study tonight? We have very important exams coming up, y’know.“ you tried reasoning. “I know, I know & I’m sorry but I canceled Trever so many times & he insists on me coming.“ Steve came a little closer, your eyes still focused on his. “Okay, then go? I’m not gonna force you to stay with me. Go & have some fun, we’ll study on another day.“ you tried to keep up your strong voice but deep down you were kind of disappointed. You were looking forward to tonight. Your late night study sessions always ended with extremely serious conversations & then with popcorn & a movie. “Nah…um, I actually want you to go with me. I really don’t wanna show up alone. Come on, please? Just this one time, I swear!“ he pleaded. Steve said he did not want to show up alone but in reality he just wanted to spend time with you & wanted to show you off. You guys were not a thing yet but every person saw that you were pretty close & assumed that you soon would be dating. Maybe you were just too oblivious to see it. “I haven’t been to a party in forever. I don’t even know if I have the right clothes. I don’t wanna look like an outsider.“ “You always look perfect, though.“ the second he said this, he started blushing. You did not realize & he continued. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine. Besides, I’m not gonna leave you there alone. We’re gonna stay together & if you wanna go back to our apartment, then I’m gonna go with you.“ you smiled at his words. Did he even know that his words affected you that way? Maybe he was being sincere & you were the only person who heard him say such cute words. On the other hand…was this not just his personality?

You agreed on accompanying Steve but only because of one reason. Tonight was finally the time you would confess your feelings for him. The party was in a few hours & Steve decided he would go back to the library for a while to start studying. He needed a bit more time to get everything into his head than you. “See ya!“ you screamed at Steve while he left your apartment. Enough time to make yourself look presentable for tonight. You wanted to impress him, to let him know you were this dressed up only because of him. Still, you could not exaggerate. Staying true to yourself was one of your priorities but you got this.

At first, you took a long shower, washing your hair. Stepping out, you dried yourself off with a towel. For now, you stripped over one of Steve’s shirts. Sometimes, when he was not looking, you would go to his dresser & grab some shirts. He never cared too much, saying they looked better on you anyway. After the bathroom, you went over to your bedroom. Back then, Steve let you grab the bigger room because he knew how much you loved a lot of space. You sat down at your white dressing table. It was a mess, as always. You put makeup on every single day, there was no need for you to move the stuff back to its place. This way, you could find the needed products faster. You wanted to impress Steve, yeah, but you never went crazy with your makeup so you would do a tiny bit more than your daily look. It took you longer than usual, wanting to make everything as perfect as possible. In your eyes you succeeded. For your hair, you decided on (fav/hairstyle). The mirror showed your reflection & for once you were content with what you saw. Steve had come back by now but he did not want to bother you in your room. He simply went back to his own bedroom, deciding it would be time to get ready for the party himself. Now, you were standing in front of your closet, unsure of what you wanted to pick. You searched through everything but nothing seemed to fit. Great, what would you do now? Shortly before you wanted to give up & tell Steve you could not go, your eyes skimmed over a black dress at the back of your closet. You almost forgot about this one. Your hand grabbed the hanger & examined the dress. It was short but not too short. You had worn it once, when your mom went shopping with you & kind of forced you to try it on. She bought it for you, saying it would come in handy one day. Bless her, she was right. You stripped the black fabric on & went over to your floor-length mirror. The dress hugged your figure perfectly. You almost could not believe that the person in the mirror was you. A smile spread across your face. Tonight was your night.

“Sweetheart? It’s time. Trevor called me. He said there are already a bunch of people. Are you ready?“ Steve knocked at your door. He was not sure if he could come in or not so he stayed outside. He did not want to walk in on you changing or something. “A second!“ Steve heard your hurried steps. You grabbed your black shoes, put them on & walked over. Then you opened the door & he was shocked. He had seen you in dresses & all but this time? This felt different. You saw his stare & smiled at the floor, suddenly not sure if you looked good anymore. Steve answered your question before you could say anything. “Wow…You look…You look gorgeous. I mean, you always do but this, um, you know I-“ he stuttered. Did you just make him embarrassed? To stop him, you simply answered. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.“ you smirked & looked him up & down. He was wearing a dark blue sweatshirt, a pair of jeans & his go-to black vans. How did he look this good while literally wearing the most basic clothes on earth? “Ma’am?“ he faked an accent, holding out a hand for you to grab. You laughed at him, took his hand & let him lead you to his car. Trevor’s party was at his house, his parents were away on a business trip. Arriving at Steve’s car, he opened your door because, duh, he is a gentleman. All you could do was smile at him. The butterflies got more & more present. Stupid, stupid crush. You did not even noticed that Steve got in the car too, starting it & driving away. He was never the biggest fan alcohol & neither were you so you trusted him with driving. Shortly after, you came to a stop in front of a big house. Even though Trevor & you had been friends for some time now, you had never been to his home. You were impressed. Steve helped you out of the car but he did not stop holding your hand. He was the cutest. This had to mean something, right? As the two of you walked in, hand in hand, you could already smell the alcohol from everywhere. Looking around, you saw many people already being too drunk to realize a thing. It was barely 10 pm. That was one reason why you did not like parties. There were so many people, you were glad Steve was still holding your hand, otherwise you would have lost him. Where he was going? You did not know. Though he turned around, screaming something at you, you could not hear anything. The music was blasting way too loud. People really liked that? Suddenly you came to a stop. The music was a bit quieter, thank god, & Steve talked to someone. You looked over to find Trevor. As soon as he saw you, he took you in for a hug. Yeah, he had been drinking. He was not someone who would hug you. Nevermind, you still hugged him back. Trevor said how happy he was that you both could make it & that you should feel like home. Feeling like home? That was a bit hard with this crowd around but you tried. You looked over your shoulder for a second, thinking you heard someone say your name. Apparently you misheard someone because nobody was behind you. Turning back, Trevor was gone. Where did he go? It did not matter. At least you had Steve next to you still. You would literally die without him here.

“Hey, let’s head outside, yeah? Trevor said it’s more fun out there.“ Steve looked at you, letting go of your hand. Suddenly you felt cold. Why did he let go? “Um…sure.“ you followed him outside, making sure not to lose him. You were not sure anymore. Did he like you more than a friend? Maybe you were too embarrassing to show around at a party. He said he wanted you to come, right? You should not stress about it too much. Arriving outside, you could feel a cold breeze hitting your skin. It was quite nice though, fresh air. You could not help but feel a bit lost, even next to Steve. You went to grab his hand again, wanting to feel his comfort but as soon as your fingertips touched him he moved his hand into his pocket, avoiding your gaze. Was that a coincidence? Or did he not want to hold your hand anymore? You were confused & you frowned. Maybe tonight was not your night after all. You were lost in thought until someone bumped into you. “Ssssorry.“ a drunk male said, well…tried to, at least. You were glad he did not have a drink he spilled over you. Your dress, your look in general, was still intact. “No problem.“ you hoped he would just leave again. You definitely were not in the mood for this. As soon as you turned around to tell Steve you would like to leave you were shocked to not find him next to you anymore. Where was he? He promised you to stay with you the entire time. Great. Just great. Looking around, you tried finding him which was a bit hard because of the large crowd. He was not outside. Walking back inside, you tried finding someone you knew from your classes but without success. Trevor was not in sight either. You started panicking. Steve knew how much you despised this.

Feels like I've known you my whole life I can see right through your lies I don't know where we're going But I'd like to be by your side If you could tell me how you're feeling Maybe we'd get through this undefeated Holding on for so long

You had been looking for him for 30 minutes now. He did not pick up his phone & neither did he answer your texts. Deciding you would give it one more try, you started wandering around inside the house yet again. At the corner of your eye you saw a broad figure, a dark blue sweatshirt. Finally, you thought. You took a closer look. No, this could not be. This was Steve, locking lips with some bitch. Was he serious? Tears started welling up in your eyes. He wandered off to kiss a random girl? You thought you knew him well but apparently you were wrong. Steve tried fighting off the girl who just came at him & started kissing him. What the fuck? She obviously never heard of consent. He opened his eyes to push her away only to find you a few feet away from him, obviously upset. He could see your tears. No, no, no. By the time he managed to push the girl off & told her it was completely dumb what she just did because she was obviously drunk, you were already out of sight. Fuck, he lost you. Of course it looked like he was kissing her. He needed to explain himself but he could not find you anywhere. Your phone was not on, making it impossible for him to reach you. After seeing Steve kissing this girl, you started running. You did not want to cry but you were so angry at him & yourself. He saw you as a friend, that was it. Why could you not see this before? Before you even knew where your feet dragged you, you were stood in front of your apartment door. Did you just run the entire way back home? You were tired, you wanted nothing more than to take off your makeup & that stupid dress. Your bed was waiting for you. After ridding yourself from your shoes, makeup & dress, you threw on your pajama. You usually wore Steve’s shirt but tonight, you did not want to smell his cologne. All you wanted to do is put your blanket over your head & try to forget all that had happened. No matter how hard you tried, the tears kept streaming down your cheeks.

Steve searched the entire house & the garden for you but you where nowhere to be found. He knew how you acted at parties, especially when you where alone so he started to panic slightly. Trevor was in the entrance hall & Steve walked over to him. “Dude, hey! Why did (Y/N) leave earlier? I thought you drove her here?“ Trevor managed to speak out. He was done for tonight, that was sure. “Fuck.“ Steve whispered. “She ran outta the door? Did she say where she was heading?“ Steve’s heartbeat got faster & faster. He fucked up big time. “Yeah, sure, because she had the energy to talk to me while she was literally bawling her eyes out.“ Gosh, Trevor’s sarcasm when he was drunk was the worst. Steve wished he could slap him but there were more important things to do. You. The only thing that made sense to him was you running back to your shared apartment. Even though the both of you had been living there for two years, you still were not that familiar with the neighborhood. You would never run into the dark without knowing where to go. Steve was still sober, he got into his car & drove back home, hoping he would find you there. There was light radiating from your windows which meant that you where inside. Steve let out a sigh, his heartbeat slowly going back to normal. Now the only thing he had to do was explaining himself to you. He had to confess, otherwise you would think the absolute worst of him, if you did not already.

You did not hear the main door opening, too lost in your thoughts. Your tears had dried by now but you were exhausted. Falling asleep was not an option though, you were overthinking. A knock on your door startled you. “(Y/N).“ Steve whispered, leaning his forehead on your door. He closed his eyes, hoping you would answer. Hell, he would wake you if you were asleep already. His instinct told him that you were not but he did not get an answer either. Nevertheless, he slowly opened your door. You thought that if you kept silent he would go away again. There was no way you could face him right now. Steve knew you better than anyone. You were not sleeping so he walked over to your bed, sitting down at the edge of it. It was now or never. Steve’s hand moved to your blanket, pulling it off of you. His heart broke at your sight. You had been crying because of him. You were feeling like this because of him. Your eyes were open, looking up at him through your lashes.

„Sweetheart?“ one of his hands started caressing your cheek & you were too tired to tell him to stop. “Please don’t sweetheart me. Not after what happened.“ your voice broke while trying to talk to him. You hated being so weak in front of him but you could not hide anymore. He had hurt you, a lot. “If you could just let me explain…“ “Go ahead then, it’ not like I should care, right?“ you slightly chuckled but Steve could hear the pain behind it. “I know you wanted to hold my hand back then. I only put it in my pocket because I didn’t want it to happen at a crappy party with drunk crackheads everywhere.“ that made you smile a bit so Steve continued. “I looked around for a nice, quiet place & then suddenly Dylan dragged me back inside even though I told him you were still outside. He told me it wouldn’t take long but I shouldn’t have trusted him.“ you rose up to sit in front of him, feeling a bit better. “It’s Dylan, what did you expect?“ you told Steve with a chuckle, an honest one this time. “You’re right…“ Steve chuckled. “Anyway, he simply wanted me to meet his new boyfriend aka a complete stranger he had met 2 hours prior. When I told him I need to head back to you I couldn’t find you anymore. So I assumed you went looking for me so I went looking for you. Now, sweetheart, I need you to look at me when I say this.“ he lifted your chin so your (Y/E) were locked on his blue ones. You nodded for him to continue. “Suddenly, this drunk girl came running at me, saying how much she missed me. She called me her boyfriend, Max, so I knew she was completely wasted. Before I could tell her that I am not her lost boyfriend, she started kissing me. She caught me off guard but as soon as I realized what was going on, I tried pushing her away. You had already seen me, though. (Y/N), I didn’t kiss her. Why would I ever kiss someone like her? I only wanna kiss one person & this someone is sitting right in front of me.“ he finished. Did he just? “W-What? Did yo-“ but before you could finish, Steve pulled you closer to him, putting his lips onto yours. You had dreamed for so long & it was finally happening. Steve & you were kissing each other & it felt like everything the two of you had ever imagined. As you broke apart to breath again, he kept staring into your eyes & rested his forehead against yours. “(Y/N), sweetheart, I love you, only you.“ his voice was barely above a whisper, making sure you were the only one who heard him even though it was just you two. Your eyes filled with tears again but this time because of pure happiness. It was your plan to confess to him tonight but who thought this night would end this way? “I love you too, Steve.“ you kissed him again, this time with more passion to let him know how long you had waited to do this. He stripped off his sweatshirt & jeans, leaving him in only his boxers. At first you were confused. What did he have in mind? But the second he laid down next to you, spooning you, you new what his intention was. He wanted to stay with you for the night & you were not complaining. Steve & you fell asleep, cuddling, relieved that this night, in the end, would be life-changing for the both of you.

Published 04/15/2020 by Cathy

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writing-after-midnight · 6 years ago

Audio

Watch by Billie Eilish, Prompt

Was asked by @azrielismycinnamonrollprimary to write a fic based on this song for my song prompts!

I am getting to prompts slowly but surely. I’ll add in the lost italics later it’s 3.13am cba now

Hope y’all enjoy!

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

-Feyre-

The summer breeze flowed past me as I walked out of the coffee shop and towards my car. I was surprised Tamlin let me work still, especially in a place that made me so visible, or even have a car. Perhaps to give me a sense of normalcy and make me look like less of a threat. But still, he had been getting more and more stressed as time slipped by. I’d been “going out” with Tamlin for a month, and I had never felt so trapped in my life, but I suppose it’s my fault to start with.

**********

A day that ended much like the one I had just had. Wiping tables, cleaning the mugs, waiting for the last people to leave the shop. Bone-weary after a long day, I was the last one in the shop and locked up. Grabbing my coat and gorgeous blue scarf that Rhys had bought me for Christmas, I headed for the back door into the alley. My first foot was placed on the rickety steps when I heard the voices. The alley was dark, but I could still make out four or five figures.

“Where’s the money Tamlin? Hybern asked for it weeks ago, and there will be consequences if it is not returned to him today.” A deep voice cut through the murky atmosphere.

“It’s coming, we swear, but we need another week to pay i--” Another voice, who I assumed was Tamlin replied, but he was cut off.

“The cargo needs to be payed for now.”

Cargo?

“Listen, Jurian. I don’t want to be involved with this business or the drugs anymore. If I had the money, I would pay.”

Was I supposed to call the police? Drugs? Surely whatever they were doing was illegal if they were meeting in this dingy alley.

I decided to try to hide in the shop. Whatever they were doing, I didn’t want to get caught. But my damned foot was still resting on the rickety stairs as I turned, and the step wailed. Quicker than I could comprehend, one of the men raced up the stairs and grabbed my arm. I was too shocked to move, let alone try to fight his iron grip. The man, who I guessed must have been Jurian, dragged me down the stairs and towards the others.

“She’s heard too much. We can’t let her go.” Jurian said grimly. He reached into his pocket, and to my horror, retrieved a gun. My adrenaline finally kicked in and I started to struggle.

“No, please… please don’t.” I pleaded, looking around at the others. My eyes caught on a man with long, golden hair. He looked at me in my panic, and it must have sparked some pity.

“Don’t hurt her, please, she’s my girlfriend.” The man, Tamlin said.

Girlfriend? What sort of excuse was that? But I went with it, this man a last-ditch attempt at getting out of this situation with my life.

“I told you to stay in the shop until I came to pick you up.” He pretended to chastise me, still a total stranger. “I need to get her home. I’ll get the money for you as soon as I can.” And with that, Tamlin took me by the wrist and pulled me away, striding down the alleyway and a red haired man following us.

“The debts are piling up, Tamlin. If you can’t pay now, you won’t be able to get the money to pay later!” Jurian called after us.

We turned the corner and kept walking for what felt like minutes before Tamlin said a word to me.

“What did you think you were doing, huh? Do you realise how much trouble you’ve gotten yourself and me into?” Tamlin raged. I was scared of the tightening grip on my wrist, but I had to stand my ground.

“Well, if you weren’t doing drug deals behind my coffee shop, I wouldn’t be in this mess to start with!” “There will always be a target on your head, you understand that?” He sighed, and loosened his grip. “Look, I’m sorry for getting you in this mess, but I don’t see us getting out of it until I finish my… business. I’ll have to keep my eye on you, but I will make sure while you live with me, I’ll make your life as comfortable as possible.”

“Live?” I choked out, barely believing what he had said.

“We need to make it believable, otherwise they will hunt you down-- I don’t even know your name.”

“Feyre.” I said shortly. “But there is no chance I am coming with you. Thank you for saving me, but that’s going too far. Goodbye.”

I turned to leave, but Tamlin snarled and grabbed my arm. “How many times do I have to tell you? If I let you go with the information, you. Will. Die. I will try my best to get the situation sorted as quickly as possible, but I can’t let you talk to your friends in the meantime, in case you let something slip. We need to go.”

**********

I ripped myself out of my memories as I climbed into my car and pulled away into the road. The black van behind me also pulled out, but I didn’t think anything of it.

I was on my way out of town and back to Tamlin’s house when I started to worry about the van. It must have been following me for at least 15 minutes. Also, it was right on my tail. Slowly, I picked up the speed, but so did the van. I dared to look in my rear-view mirror to see the person practically jamming their car into mine. It took a moment for me to focus, but I saw a figure. The same figure who had almost shot me in that alley a month ago. The figure who had been haunting my dreams for weeks.

I was almost at the house. I could see it coming into view. If I could get there, and run inside, perhaps I’d be safe.

It was almost as if Jurian had been waiting to make eye contact with me, as he flashed a malicious grin. What was he planning to do to me? Was it going to be a warning for Tamlin, as he still hadn’t paid up? It seemed so. With that, Jurian sped up, and my car jolted as he rammed into the back.

I lost control of the steering wheel for a second, and I started to panic. Was he only trying to scare me, or was he actually trying to kill me? Another jolt a few seconds later had my car careening out of control, and swerving off the road.

Then time seemed to slow. My view swirled as the car flipped. Shards of glass glittered like stars, and I threw my arms out to steady myself in this kaleidoscope. Faintly, I heard myself scream over the screech of the van’s tyres as Jurian drove away. Black smoke that soon appeared to blur my vision and hurt my throat…

**********

-Rhysand-

I was taking my evening run when I saw it happen.

On the other side of the road, I watched as a black van bashed into a small car, and drove it off the road. The car flipped over, and promptly started to catch fire. Without thinking, I sprinted across the road and towards the wreck. If I didn’t help whoever was inside, they would surely die. I coughed as the smoke entered my lungs, and I forced my eyes back open. The next few seconds were a blur as I pulled a woman through the broken window. I pulled her away from the wreckage, and soon realised that the now tangled blonde hair was horrifyingly familiar.

“Feyre?” I said in disbelief. I hadn’t seen her for weeks, and now I found her like this? Her eyes were closed, and she wasn’t responding. I put an ear against her chest. Still alive, thank the Mother. I gently shook her, and she groaned. Her eyes opened and confusion clouded them for a moment.

“Rhys?” She wheezed.

“Feyre, can you hear me? You’re alright, it’s Rhys. You’re okay, you’re okay.” I said soothingly, stroking her hair.

Then, another car behind us screeched to a halt. If it was that bastard who had just done this, I would kill him. I looked over my shoulder, but saw a different car, and a man running towards us.

“Feyre! Is she okay? We live just up the road and I heard the crash.” The man said, his green eyes full of worry.

“She’s alive, but we should get her to the hospital to get her checked out. I’m her friend, so we should both go with her.”

“Feyre doesn’t have friends.” The man replied, a bit too sharply for my liking. “I think I’ll go with her by myself; wouldn’t want to inconvenience you. Thank you for saving her, but I should get her to the hospital.”

He knocked me aside and picked up Feyre. I watched as the man walked away, and Feyre looked over his shoulder, our eyes meeting. It was as if she was trying to say a last goodbye with that look, before she got placed in the car and driven away from me, leaving me alone again.

**********

Cassian, Azriel and I all exited the pub, laughing and whooping. I had told them what had happened, and they had taken me for a drink to help cheer me up. While I laughed along with Cassian’s jokes and Az’s remarks, I couldn’t get rid of the overwhelming sense of misery that had clouded my mind. In the time I had known Feyre before, we had grown so close, and I had truly fallen in love with everything about her. She had fit in so well with everyone, and it really looked like she had grown to like me a bit too. Our flirtatious banter had made me think so, at least. That was until one day last month, when she never returned home, and didn’t call to tell us where she was. I texted, but she never replied. Mor told me a few days later she had seen Feyre holding hands with a blond man around town, and I started to give up hope. Perhaps she was just being polite, returning the banter, and didn’t want to hurt me face to face and say that she had met someone else. My feelings had dampened down over the last month, but today had brought them all back. They had only been intensified by the amount I had drank.

The three of us stumbled through the streets, each eventually taking our separate ways to head home, until I was left by myself under the starlight. I looked up, and was reminded of the way Feyre’s eyes lit up each time I told her a joke. But a cloud sailed past, and covered the stars, blinking out the moments of happiness, one by one. Mother above, I was always horribly poetic when I was drunk, I found especially when I had a broken heart.

Perhaps if I told Feyre how I felt about her still, it would help me get it off my chest, and help me forget. I stopped in the middle of a dark street, opened my phone after few attempts, and scrolled through my contacts. I still had her.

You’re going to regret this. The sober part of me told myself. But I don’t have anything to lose. I probably won’t see her again. I argued back.

Before I could think about it more, I pressed the call button.

Three rings, then-

“Hello?” Said a groggy voice.

“Feyre, it’s nice to hear from you. You’re alright from this afternoon, I presume?”

“Rhys? I’m fine, nothing I can’t handle. You sound drunk, are you okay? Look, Tamlin is in the other room, but I’ll still have to be quiet. I’m so sorry for not calling, I wanted to explain but--”

“I don’t need an excuse, Feyre. I understand now why you left, and I don’t want to be angry about it.”

“It’s 2 in the morning.”

“If I could get to sleep, I would have slept by now; and I need to tell you now, otherwise I probably never will.”

A beat of silence, then, “Okay.”

“I’m sorry Feyre, but I want to be done waiting for you. I don’t know if you ever planned on talking to any of us ever again, but I want you to know that I won’t be mad if you don’t. I just want to get over you. I might be drunk, but here goes. I was in love with you Feyre, and I think I still am. Maybe I’ll never stop loving you, but if we were meant to be, we would have been by now. When I first met you, I swear I felt my heart skip eight beats at once. You were so kind, and courageous. And we got so close, so quickly. I thought maybe, one day, you may feel the same way towards me as I feel towards you. But you don’t, and that’s okay. It was stupid of me to expect someone to fall in love with me just because I loved them. But still, over the past month, I couldn’t help but wonder whether I have ever been your fantasy. Because the connection I thought was between us felt so real. But it doesn’t matter now. I just want you to know, the fire you started in me still makes my heart burn.” I finished, all my breath leaving me.

“Rhys, I want you to know that I didn’t leave because I wanted to; I am protecting you all by staying away. But when I can come back, I will, if you still want me to. I have your number back now, and I want to explain when you’re sober. I will have to do it in secret, but when I have the chance, I promise I will, Rhys.” Feyre whispered.

By then I was too drunk on alcohol and my own stupidity, that I just said, “Okay. Have a nice evening, Feyre.” And promptly hung up.

I wandered the streets for a while longer in my stupor, when I eventually reached my house and collapsed onto my bed and fell asleep.

**********

I woke up in what must have been mid-afternoon, and rolled over. My phone poked into my ribs, so I removed it and opened it to check for any awful photos that might have been taken the night before. But the screen opened onto my call list, and the most recent call. Cauldron damn me. The memories of the conversation I had with Feyre came back, and I cringed, not only at the awful confession I had made, but also my ignorance. ‘I’m protecting you all by staying away.’ She had said, and I had completely ignored it. Was she in danger? Why didn’t I ask? I buried my head in my pillow and groaned and my utter stupidity, when as if on cue, my phone rang. I looked back up. ‘Feyre’.

“Feyre! Are you alright? I’m so sorry for last night; I was so stupid--”

“It’s okay, Rhys. Look, I don’t have much time. If Tamlin finds out I have your number… I don’t know how long I’ll have to stay here; he is getting further and further away from paying back the money…” Feyre whispered back.

“What money?”

And that was when she told me about the events of the day last month.

How someone had pulled a gun on her.

As she carried on, I wondered how on earth she had survived pretending to be a stranger’s girlfriend for a month while pretending nothing was wrong. It was something I would dread to live through.

I wanted to help, but she insisted that something worse than yesterday would happen if she was allowed to go free.

“Feyre, I’m so, so sorry. I swear by the Cauldron, if there’s anything I can do to help. I will do everything I can to do it.”

“But Tamlin can’t kn-” The bang of a door sounded in the background.

“What are you doing?” A familiar voice echoed down the line.

“Tamlin, please, no!” Feyre shouted before the line was cut short.

And so I was left to wonder if I would ever see Feyre ever again.

**********

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satire-please · 6 years ago

Text

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Summary: This started with “How do I get Wei Wuixan to pine for his husband?” to “How do I kill off the rotten parts of Wen Clan?” (Prepare for emotional whiplash) This is the third fic in the Marriage Au. Part 1, Part 2

Ao3 link

“Will you be alright?”

“No, I’ll die.” Wei Wuxian laughs and laughs. Then he presses their foreheads together because he can. “Of course I’ll be alright! Why ask the question in the first place? Are you worried, Lan Zhan, just because this will be the first time we’ve been apart since we got married?”

“Yes.”

It’s only for a little while. A couple of days or weeks at most.

Wei Wuxian has no idea why Lan WangJi is making such a fuss about his departure. He’s already agreed to stay at Cloud Recesses like a good wife, though it irks him when the other leaders implied that he would be useless on this mission. So what if he’s not a healer? He can do something! Like carry the sick, fetch firewood to boil water for the victims or gather and distribute herbs or other precious medicines. Another helping body is what matters right?

But when he mentions this again to his husband, even now when he’s about to leave, “Are you sure I can’t come?” What does he get?

“I don’t want you to come.” Ouch. Have more sensitivity than that, Lan Zhan! Mind your words! Wei Wuxian’s heart squeezes and he tries to laugh it off awkwardly. In response, Lan WangJi’s brow becomes more furrowed. “I don’t want you among the ill. It’s not safe. Stay here.”

“Boo. What happened to our marriage vows? You know it’s rather hypocritical of you to say that to me when we especially promised to stick together in sickness and health. I could be there supporting you!”

Lan WangJi’s face is a storm. His hands squeeze Wei Wuxian’s in his and he bites his lip. Of course, the Jade Twin is saved by his brother.

“Now, now. I do not think the vows quite apply when Brother doesn’t want you exposed to the miasma. Only our best disciplines in medicine are coming, which you already know, anyone else would be highly vulnerable so there’s no need for you to poke at your husband’s insecurities.” Lan XiChen intervenes with one hand on Lan WangJi’s shoulder. He smiles warmly at Wei Wuxian with a twinkle in his eye. “Besides with the two of us gone, who will care for Cloud Recesses in our behalf?”

“Oh, I’ll take good care of it.” Wei Wuxian promises with a smirk. Lan WangJi clutches his hands a little harder in reprimand.

Lan XiChen clears his throat to clarify. “I hope you mean to defend it if any crisis emerges.”

Wei Wuxian is a crisis. “I’ll take very good care of it. I’ll ensure everyone is happy and safe.” He does not promise that everyone will remain sane, however.

Lan XiChen sighs, “That will have to do. Brother?”

“Mn?”

“It is time to go.”

The two brothers stare at each other. The elder watching the younger step closer to Wei Wuxian, making the space between them as small as possible and Lan XiChen is filled with a year of sighs.

It’s too soon.

“I understand. I’ll inform the others to begin heading out, please do not tarry long. The longer your goodbyes, the harder it will be for you to join us.”

“...I know.”

Lan XiChen gracefully steps on his sword, “I beg you, do not harass my Uncle too much, Wei Wuxian. It would be disheartening to return and need to nurse another victim back to health!”

“I’ll keep that in mind just for you!” But Lan Qiren is a tough man, surely he can handle a good joke...and little vomiting of blood.

Wind whips through their clothes as Lan XiChen departs and they’re alone again. Lan WangJi’s hands slip under Wei Wuxian’s forearms to wrap around his waist, pulling him in. It’s reassuring, the thought that their hearts are close enough, even through layers and layer of cloth, to feel the other’s beat. Wei Wuxian lets his arms flop over Lan WangJi’s shoulders and play with the hair at the base of his neck.

“Will you be alright?”

“Yes.”

Wei Wuxian just snickers and lets his husband kiss him goodbye. It’s unfair how cute his husband is. Another grievance to keep track off for Jiang Fengmian later.

“I’ll miss you.”

“I’d miss me too,” he teases, words muffled now and then by lips. The arms around his waist are like brands and for a moment Wei Wuxian hopes they bruise. “So come back to me fast so you don’t die of heartache okay? It’s one thing to get respectfully divorced and another to become an unfortunate, but attractive young widow. With such an unlucky reputation I’d never get married again!”

Wei Wuxian hisses as his lower lip is bitten punishingly. “No remarrying. Ever.” The small hurt is then soothed by tongue as an afterthought. An apology.

“Then come back soon~” He sing-songs.

“I will.”

“I know you will.”

It’ll be fine.

Lan WangJi will be just fine.

Wei Wuxian will be just fine.

They’ll be fine.

After all, it’s only a couple of days.

The Nightless City has always been filled with terrible things.

Buildings black and dirty from the parade of fire pits that compete with the stars. People with searing pride and ugly sneers. Awful plans ordered with a laugh. Cruel deeds.

How strange that it takes just one more one to tip the scales.

Groans and sobs of the devastated punctuate the air in a terrible symphony. They are the ones alive enough to feel. How lucky. The pain doesn’t last long. There are too many infected, the end is truly nightless and Wen Qing hasn’t slept in more than brief catches for a week. Yet if she could, she’d need melted wax poured in her ears to get any peace. Wen Qing puts a hand to her head and digs her nails in her skull to stay focused. She needs to come up with something better to say.

“Please. Our people are dying.” Should she pray?

Some say it’s a curse.

Some say the gods are discontent. Some say that the jealous clans they’ve rightfully dominated sent it on the winds. Some say the fault lies in the last beast the heir Wen Xu killed, the one they cracked open their chest and feasted. The demon boar had been enormous. Black as coal, the girth the size of a house in its own right and its eyes burned and blazed even dead with the great spear planted in the center of its forehead. The smoke from the cooked meat could be smelt from one side of the city to the other.

The smell still lingers.

Wen Ruohan that night had given a speech to the whole Qishan Wen Sect about the glory of his heir and how like the boar, none would stand in their way.

They ate.

They drank.

And in the morning the first lepers appeared.

Their mouths wide open in silent screams, their chalky white hands outstretched with black veins only for their flesh to shift, fingers falling to the tile the same way burnt incense does. After all...what else could remain after a fire? The first victims hobbled to and fro throughout the courtyard, body parts littering the streets as they seek any relief. That was the first mistake, they should have been apprehended, not shunned, not pushed for when they fall...the ash gets everywhere. The Qishan Wen Clan’s traditional wear of red and white have been stained grey. Even Wen Qing has too many handprints on her sleeves to wash out now. But they don’t matter. All that matters is the veil carefully drawn tight over her mouth. She tries again.

“Sir. This humble branch member could be more useful out there. Please allow me to personally supervise our forces directly.”

Wen Qing doesn’t care about the cause.

She cares that she’s not doing enough.

This is what she knows.

The epidemic is a parasite of air. If any inhale the dust from the dead, within the hour the first symptoms appear. It begins with smoke escaping nostrils and mouth from the embers formed in the victim’s lungs. The second stage has rivers of black streaking across the skin as the disease overtakes the blood veins. Once its dark network is complete all it takes is a final spark to set off a chain reaction from lungs to heart to the rest of the body.

The victim burns from the inside out.

They call it...The Scorch.

There is evidence that a golden core only accelerates the process. The strong are not immune, instead...high cultivators are susceptible.

After all, Wen Xu died first.

Still, she cares and grits her teeth when the Sect Leader denies her request to dedicate her time to find the cure again.

“Your task is decided. Your first priority, your only priority, is to tend to me...and me alone,” Wen Ruohan says with a glint in his eye. To cross him is unwise. “Anything else is secondary, is that clear, Branch Head?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Wen Ruohan is not a good man. However, he is her sect leader and she has a duty as a member of the Wen clan and a healer.

A doctor’s mission is to heal.

Wen Qing repeats this over and over to herself and does her job. She keeps Wen Ruohan alive.

Wei Wuxian is having the time of his life.

Lan Qiren is not.

“This is going to be great.”

“Don’t. You. Dare.” Wei Wuxian giggles and the sound becomes the most terrifying cackle Lan Qiren ever endured. He has no idea how the delinquent got up the side of the mountain like that. Nor does he understand the forty-two firecrackers that Wei Wuxian has somehow procured and fixed into every large enough crevice between the carved words of their honorary rules. But if the man dares to light the giant tail mess of strings that connect to each one…

He’ll kill him.

Or the attempt will be half-sincere. Crippling is also acceptable. Lan Qiren will apologize as prettily as required to his unfortunate nephew.

But Wei Wuxian must be punished.

“Oh Master Lan Qiren, don’t you know that such an event needs to be celebrated? Why you’ve graced us with your presence for forty-two years, how could we not honor your birth? Your every wrinkle?” Wei Wuxian knocks down another sword blow from his precarious position at the base of the cliff face. His own sword should be wedged in the rock, a foothold for balance would be quite appreciated here, yet sadly he needs Suibian to defend against the volley of strikes the older man rains upon him.

“Miscreant.” Metal clangs, no sings. “Slanderer.” Their swords clash and scrape harshly across the rock. Wei Wuxian teeters but like a mountain roach, he stubbornly clings on to the cliff face, one hand reading the spell he needs for the job. “The only reason for such mischief is because the young masters are absent.”

“Now, now, you’re hurting my feelings!”

“Yet none of those feelings are a flicker of shame!” Lan Qiren roars.

Wei Wuxian smiles serenely. “This is true.” Then he sets the fuses ablaze.

In fascinated horror, the entire Lan sect watches. The mountain comes alive. This is different from the simple flares used to communicate and summon, no, this is a show. It’s loud. It’s bright. The sky is lit up in every color of the rainbow and soon they shall all go blind.

Wei Wuxian is having a moment.

It is a beautiful moment. His grin is gleefully demonic and honestly, one of the best thing about marrying into the Lan Sect is the money and he didn’t need to scrimp on the good firepower at all.

So fireworks go on for more than a half an hour.

The Lan Sect Elders are not having a good time. The flashing colors reflect on their solemn stone faces, though the maroon shade blooming over Lan Qiren’s is not from the display.

The Junior Lan Disciples also are not having a good time...at least that’s the demeanor they try to present. Yet the younger members start to crack. How can they not? The finale starts, the elegant symbol of their Sect emerges, a white shimmering cloud that rains down sparks while a coil of a red and orange become a dragon to dance underneath it. They point, their hands flap and gesture. There are too many ohhh’s and ahhhh’s that the booming crackle cannot muffle out. There are too many stars in the young eyes and Lan Qiren is not heartless enough to put them out.

Damn Wei Wuxian.

Damn him.

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Master Lan Qiren!” The vile In-law croons nearby. “Happy Birthday to–Ah! Can’t you wait until the show is over to hit me! Stop! Fine, catch me if you can!”

Lan Qiren will catch that troublemaker if the last thing he does.

He will.

The audience hall is ornate with gold. From the ceiling, it drips and twists into heavy scenes of Qishan Wen Sect glory. It wraps around pillars to flare out in sculpted flames, but few dare to linger too close to those sharp edges. Such decorations are placed here and there to discourage timidness. Only the bold can survive here. Only the brave. Only those with hot personalities that rival the sun.

But these days the chamber is kept cold.

The padding of boots against the tile is soft, yet only when they stop in front of his throne does Wen Ruohen open his eyes.

He looks down his nose at the group of white.

“How ironic that only one that comes to our aid is the virtuous and righteous Lan Sect.” The disdain for such virtues drips, yet the Lan Sect volunteers have faces far too thick to respond to it. “To help those in need is your creed correct?”

"It is one of many, yes." Lan Xichen salutes to the man on the throne, the gauze over his mouth may cover up his smile so he does his best to convey the sentiment with his eyes instead. “We sorrow at your plight. For this tragedy, our finest healers are at your beck and call. Where shall we put them to work first?”

Wen Ruohan sneers.

The line of his mouth becomes a jagged line of absolute displeasure and for a breath, he imagines smearing the courtyard with them. Their eager nature to help mocks him. Yet. Perhaps for their assistance, their eventual subjugation shall be...less painful and punishing compared to those worms who have abandoned them and their powerful flag. They shall suffer. They shall all pay. Besides him, a slight figure shifts and reaches to firmly press on a meridian in his upper arm in warning. Ah, yes. He must not forget. Negative emotions hasten the spread.

Anger is not the only fire in his veins tonight. Above the collar, black trails up his neck and curls over his chin like a possessive lover.

“Wen Qing. Debrief them.” He orders with a finger.

Wen Qing rises from the plain wooden stool next to the elaborate throne.

“We have quarantined the worst of the outbreak. Most victims are kept in the inner layers of the city while unaffected family members have been quartered on the outskirts just in case if they need to be evacuated. The Wen Clan needs the majority of your forces to keep the rooms of the infected cool and the patients calm and sedated. Encourage trance-like meditations or even drug them into a coma if necessary. Such conditions buy our people more time as I look for a cure."

Wen Ruohan tilts his head to the side. Wen Qing feels Qi pressure compress, no squeeze her entire body. Her legs start to weaken but she maintains her posture stubbornly. The pressure thickens. Like a doll, her body falls backs to sit on the stool. "My...esteemed physician means to say that we also require your assistance in the discovery of the cure. She will advise you daily when you bring updates every sunrise. Is that understood?"

It's like that last sentence is not for the Lan Sect. Still, Lan Xichen answers politely, "Very much so, we will start immediately."

"Good." Wen Ruohan smiles. How obedient they are in servitude. Their sect will be a fine addition to theirs when the time comes. "My men will show you where you will be stationed. Now go."

Lan Xichen salutes once more and then turns, subtly tugging his brother's sleeve in passing. It is unwise to get in a dispute here. His brother's glare is too obvious.

“We are here to help.” He reminds Lan WangJi in the hall.

“I know.” His face is sullen and his eyes angry. “The Wen doctor…”

“We will do all that we can.” Each word is a platitude. “That will have to be enough.”

It’s only when they get to the first room of patients does his comforting attitude drop. It’s dark. Shadows of the disease crawl towards them until a Wen guard kicks one of their own people back from getting too close. Ash litters the ground and makes patterns as the sick drag it across the floor.

“Put these on.” A Wen sect member orders, throwing a pair of dark overclothes in their direction. “Unless you want to catch the scorch too.”

Lan WangJi and Lan Xichen snatch the garments in midair and to pull it over their robes quickly. With a nod to each other, they get to work.

They will not fail.

Meanwhile. In the Grand Hall, Wen Qing finds new reasons to gnash her teeth.

“I am not known for repeating myself. The Branch Head stays by my side.”

One of the two messengers wrings his hands helplessly. “Please Honored One, we’re doing everything we can! Even Wen Qing’s own brother is our esteemed Wen Chao’s bedside now, giving most of his spiritual energy to buy minutes! But we need the master physician to stabilize him.”

“The answer is still no.” Though the corner of his eye, he looks at Wen Qing where she was beginning to rise again, without his permission. His spiritual presence in the audience hall spikes. It’s cloying weight filling them with fear. Wen Qing sits down angrily, her stool screeching across the floor.

“But my lord, he’ll die! Why–” The messenger starts to choke. His fingers fly to his throat, nails digging at it as if he could remove the spell placed there. Fortunately, it seems like Wen Ruohan is in a gracious mood. The service of the Lan Sect perhaps? So the messenger gets to drop to his knees, the sound loud in the hall, his companion hovering as he coughs and wheezes but he can breathe. He can breathe.

“Then he will die. Do you need my words carved into your face to remember? Return to my son and leave us.”

The two messengers flee and Wen Qing closes her eyes. Her brother is a tender one...this will devastate him. Though Wen Chao has only given Wen Ning grief, the rude, humiliating bastard, her brother did not reject the man’s summons. Wen Ning worked hard to heal, to learn as many tonics and acupuncture points as possible on the nights Wen Qing could manage an hour away from their sect leader just to keep the new heir alive. But in vain.

Wen Ruohen generously allowed Wen Chao to take as many attendants and healers in his entourage as he wished. The only exception? Wen Qing.

She may only serve as Wen Ruohan’s doctor.

She’s his only one.

Her brother’s heart is too soft. His focus should be on their own branch members instead.

Still.

“He is your son.” She says quietly.

Wen Ruohan smiles at her cruelly. He gives her his wrist as a silent order to continue her work to stop the flow of decay. She takes it. “It does not matter. I can always have more. If a great tree always sheds new seeds every autumn then so shall I. New growth is possible. In addition, for the sake of the Wen Clan, perhaps it is necessary to graft the branch family back into the main.”

He pointedly twists his arm so his hand rests on her knee.

To her credit, Wen Qing does not cringe. The stream of her energy she feeds into this man remains a steady and constant flow. Her stare into his eyes does not break. Why would it? She knows every single conceptative in the land, every way to turn a man impotent. Besides, there are few survivors of the disease. Who can say that such a condition would not be a result, no, a possible cost of recovery?

She will make sure Wen Ruohan’s line never bears fruit again.

“Are you not pleased?” Every word is more poisonous than the air outside. His thumb starts to rub the inside of her thigh.

“...The Wen Clan would be stronger if Main and Branch families are together.”

“Good.” His smirk is wicked with pride and the grip on her leg tightens.

Wen Qing does not bite her tongue.

But she does imagine ripping out his.

Many, many times.

The first couple days with the stuffy in-laws are a riot. Since Wei Wuxian has started four of those, they’re barely tussles really, in the disciple quarters. Without Lan Zhan here to keep him in check or exhaust him nightly so that mischief is barely a twinkle in his eye...Cloud Recess experiences its worst nightmare.

Wei Wuxian proves he’s the prettiest one.

He makes it a goal to break as many rules on the stone mountain as possible. All the frivolous ones about running, shouting, eating, etc...He breaks about 800 before he tuckers himself out.

And Lan Qiren catches him.

Still, even with all the new bruises on his back, it was worth it. It was. Yet thank all the heavens and Lan Zhan that he knows about the healing spring so he’s not absolutely crippled. If Lan Qiren had his way, Wei Wuxian would be beaten black and blue enough that he wouldn’t be able to lift a finger until the Twin Jades return.

The seventh day, however, is less fun. Wei Wuxian overcompensates, jokes and bad lewd poetry echo through pristine halls and he practically loses his voice in the progress.

The thirteenth day is bland.

The fifteen day is gray.

Lan Qiren no longer has to run to catch him anymore.

He doesn’t even need to.

Today, their bed is cold. Wei Wuxian shivers and pulls the covers over his head. The light garish and muted as it streams through the window. He doesn’t want to get out of bed today. Honestly, why bother? Who’s going to make him? No one. Why would anyone go through the trouble to coax him from his nest, help him get ready, lead him to where the steam rises in coils above a bowl of bland warmth when Lan Zhan isn’t–

Lan Zhan isn’t here.

Wei Wuxian curls into a miserable ball.

It’s 5:00 in the morning and he can’t go back to sleep. No matter how much he tightly closes his eyes. No matter how he contorts his pillow over his ears, he can still hear the sweet song of birds outside the Jinishi, the melody mocking him. Their bedding is smelling more like him and less like...He doesn’t like it. Wei Wuxian pretends to sleep anyway, letting the thoughts, the wishes, the ‘I miss’...rattles in his head for a while. What’s the point of getting up?

Hours go by. Sometimes he dozes in and out if he’s lucky.

It doesn’t matter.

“Ingrate, enough is enough. I’ve come to retrieve you.” Says a stern voice. Wei Wuxian clutches the pillow harder over his face. Lan Qiren is the worst in-law. “It’s far past noon and you are not a bear or any other creature that hibernates. Stop wallowing like a dog and come out to eat.”

“Do I really have to?” Wei Wuxian points out sullenly. His head peeking out from the sheets at the voice. “Also isn’t there a Lan sect rule somewhere that even the great Master Lan Qiren must knock to enter one’s quarters?”

Lan Qiren regrets the oath he made to the twin jades not to let Wei Wuxian waste away. “You would know. Or next time you may discover the answer when I have you copy them blindfolded. Unfortunately, I will proceed to disregard your privacy and drag you out in the sun if you don’t show your face immediately. Come out, you ghoul.”

“Ha, ha. Be careful, that might be almost funny.” As a reward, he drags himself off the bed and onto the floor with a thump. He crawls. Overdramatic or not, it gets him out of his nest and Lan Qiren should be grateful. He even manages to shrug a coat over his inner layers and wash his face. He leaves his hair loose and wild though. He doesn’t feel like doing it. Wei Wuxian doesn’t need to look nice, it’s just his uncle-in-law when the man leaves he’ll...read in the Jinishi or something...he’s fine alone.

When he slides open the door, Lan Qiren scowls at him, both hands in his sleeves. “You look positively unkempt.”

Wei Wuxian smiles, “Not all of us can be as beautiful as you, Master Teacher.”

“Hmph.” Lan Qiren turns, his spine upright with snooty posture. He doesn’t beckon Wei Wuxian to follow, he expects it.

Well, Wei Wuxian doesn’t have anything better to do. He flops along. They don’t get far though with his bare feet slapping on the wooden floor.

Lan Qiren head jerks back with a glare. “Put your shoes on.”

Wei Wuxian returns the ugly look and grumbles, “What does it matter?”

“We are going out.”

Wei Wuxian begins to whine and drag his feet even more.

“Stop that.” Lan Qiren orders. “You need nourishment, sunlight and fresh air.”

“What am I? A plant?” Wei Wuxian grouses. Lan Qiren throws a pair of sandals at him. Then because he’s a vicious type of man, just like his former Sect leader’s wife, he slides open the door abruptly. The morning air is too refreshing, too chilly and Wei Wuxian hisses at it hits his skin.

“If only. A plant would be so much less difficult to tend to than you.”

“I bet. Do you garden Master Lan? What is your favorite flower to ‘pluck?’”

“In addition, plants are silent. Another advantage.” Lan Qiren inserts, avoiding the question. Every now and then he pauses on the stone pathway, one eye on the younger man until he catches up. The white coat with the cloud motif flutters in the breeze where it’s draped haphazardly over Wei Wuxian’s shoulders. Lan Qiren squints. Even if Wei Wuxian put on properly the size would be too big for him. So why–

Ah.

Disgusting. Newlywed couples are disgusting, especially the heartsick ones.

At last, they come to their designation and Wei Wuxian blinks at the sight of the open field instead of the hallowed halls of the dining pavilion. On a nearby rock, a black lacquered box rests with a straw mat beside it. Curious Wei Wuxian approaches and opens the box. Instead is the simple fare of pressed rice, flaked fish and the mildest pickles Wei Wuxian has ever had the misfortune of tasting...though his stomach gives a low growl at the sight of them, traitor.

“Sit. Eat.” Lan Qiren folds his arms and waits. Observes.

Wei Wuxian picks up the chopsticks, starts to pick up a pickle when he narrows his eyes. “Why are you being so...nice. Did you poison this?”

“Hmph. Would I even need to? Without your husband, you seem quite content to starve yourself to death. If I wanted you gone then all that is required of me is to do nothing and wait.”

“I’m not that bad.”

The old man quirks his lips, begging to differ.

“I’m not!”

The pickles are perfect. Argh. He can’t even mock the cuisine as normal, but just munch away as the light flickers through the trees. It’s peaceful.

Even the silence as a companionable nature to it.

Wei Wuxian thinks this might be the longest he’s been around Lan Qiren without the elder scolding him. They just stare at the view the mountainside provides. The mist whirling between the waterfalls nestled in the cracks of various cliffs.

It’s beautiful.

It just makes him think of other things that are beautiful.

Things that are not here.

Plop.

Did...the Master Teacher just toss something into his lap?

The creature’s beady eyes are curious, yet it doesn’t struggle, content to its new, strange placement. The rabbit makes him crack a small smile. Lan Qiren takes it as a cue to plop another one into his arms, giving the white one a friend as black fur burrows into the other. They nuzzle, cuddle under his hands, so soft and Wei Wuxian is so glad he shoved two of these into Lan WangJi’s face almost a lifetime ago. They are a multiplying scourge but Lan WangJi took such good care of them.

He takes good care of him too.

“Wei Wuxian…Stop that face.” This was never the elder’s intention. Yes, the miscreant is smiling, but there’s wetness in those eyes. That is not allowed. The scene was meant to raise the man’s spirits!

“He’s such a stick in the mud.” There’s something wrong with Wei Wuxian’s nose. He sniffs hard to clear it, his throat thick. He must be getting sick. “Lan Zhan too obsessed with rules, he barely lets me have any fun. He won’t even let me eat these guys!”

“They never should have been released within the compound in the first place.” Yet Lan Qiren wonders if it’s too late to free the poor rabbits before they become a convenient meal.

“Yeah, I know. But they’re so cute, and you should have seen Lan Zhan’s face when I pushed them at him the first time. Hopping around, pretending they don’t like you, when really they’d love for you to...stay. You know, they remind me a lot how my–” His voice cuts out, see he really is sick! Now his eyes aren’t working the way they should. Way too blurry for his liking. He shuts up. He tries really hard to shut up.

“Distance...is difficult for new married couples. Your feelings are to be expected.” Each word is dragged out slowly and reluctantly.

Yet the awkward pat on his shoulder must be the cruelest act the older man can give. The common gesture of comfort almost causes him to bawl. He’s been barely keeping it together. He can do this.

“It’s only for a couple more days!” Wei Wuxian voice cracks, “I’ll be–I’ll be fine. I am fine. I don’t have to miss him at all.”

“...Lying is not permitted at Cloud Recesses.”

“Oh, shut up and give me another rabbit!”

Lan Qiren complies.

It takes fourteen carrots and eight rabbits to get Wei Wuxian to stop crying. Somehow their fluffy weight cures him for the moment.

This will do.

Lan Qiren supervises and keeps his oath to his nephew. Wei Wuxian will not starve and wilt under his watch. Their sect keeps their promises. Even for the benefit of whining, unruly, ungrateful personages such as his nephew-in-law.

Always.

“She’s not coming.”

“You don’t know that.” Wen Ning winces, the pull of his energy scrapes across his nerves as he does his best to slow the infection from burning the fat in Wen Chao’s limbs. The veins are already compromised. The only thing keeping him alive is is the small part of Wen Ning that’s stubborn in times such as these. He doesn’t want to give up. He doesn’t want to admit that the young master is right.

His sister is not coming.

“Ha! I do know it. Don’t you dare mistake me for a fool! Admit it,” Wen Chao haughtily demands, “You think I deserve this, don’t you, you filthy branch member?”

“I don’t think anyone deserves this.” This end of ash and bone is for no one.

Wen Chao snorts and retorts, “That’s because you’re without an ounce of imagination. There are several sects I would personally deliver this miasma to if this body had the strength to walk. Maybe to the prideful Jiang Sect, or that Jin Sect that flaunts their wealth so much. It would the best sort of entertainment to watch them squirm when their gold and treasures won’t save them! Perhaps for my dying wishes, I shall write to Father that my ashes are to be passed on to a messenger and–”

Wen Ning plants one hand on Wen Chao chest, pushing him down in bed. Firmly. It breaks the young master’s tirade.

“No one deserves this.” Wen Ning says.

Wen Chao sniffs indignantly. “As I’ve said before. You’re just weak. Too weak and pathetic. It must a defect in your blood, you’re barely a Wen after all. What a lack on our part that we never burned that feebleness out of you.” Wen Ning looks to the side away from that stare.

Wen Chao scoffs. Humility is no virtue for the Wen Sect. If Wen Ning weren’t so pathetic, Wen Chao might have given the idiot the honor of being his personal attendant.

He’d given him plenty of chances. Wen Chao gave him one at the Grand Discussion, where it the midst of shouts and yells of their most skilled, when that arrogant Jiang Sect member suggested that Wen Ning was a fair shot, Wen Chao let him make one.

He missed.

What a joke. Look at those shaky hands! That lowered head in defeat! How could Wen Chao not laugh? How could he not mock him further by letting him participate in the archery competition? Of course, this was after the stipulation that he, himself would compete to balance the disparity. The decision would have many purposes. One to bestow Wen Ning an opportunity to regain a sliver of honor from his gracious self. Another to demonstrate how much greater the Main family is to the Branch family. Proof that the only place for Wen Ning and his kin was under his powerful heel.

The boy should be grateful that his boot might be light.

Father had approved.

The stone forest rang with his shrill laughter when the Jiang and Lan sects were distracted by petty internal affairs. Who proposes during a competition? The flustered crowd of purple and white had been amusing. Especially seeing Wei Wuxian wail and scream that he didn’t mean it provided an abundance of vindictive joy. But most of all the commotion left all the more targets for him and his men. So the Sun triumphed. Wen Chao weaved in and out of the rock pillars, his arrows soaring and all over the training field, the sky was ablaze with Qishan Wen signal flares.

Though not all were his, many fired in the opposite direction of his location.

How could this be?

In the end, Wen Chao may have ranked number one on the archery competition. His father may have acknowledged his score with a rare quirk of his face that could be considered a positive expression. The words from the Sect leader were almost praise, “This was the only outcome from our sect, my son.”

But in the end, he finally got his hands on the final rankings. His shoulders shook before ripping the recording to shreds.

He had only beaten Wen Ning by one shot.

A shot Wen Ning didn’t even take when he noticed Wen Chao lining up his bow. The tart even dared to lower his weapon to salute him before the arrow flew at last feral ghost target. If they weren’t twenty feet apart he would have wrung Wen Ning’s neck.

It was infuriating.

His fingers clench in the sheets. The top layers of his skin flake and fall in gray piles between the wrinkles.

“Please, stay calm. If you agitate yourself you’ll burn much faster and–”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Wen Chao spits out. His eyes bulge with anger and the black veins pulsate and crack rapidly over his face towards his eyes. “I am the master here. I’m in control. Not you! Your status, your value barely rises above a servant, you fool, you imbecile, you–”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop that.” Wen Chao hisses, he claws at the hand still at his chest. Tries to shove it way as far as his remaining strength allows. “I didn’t ask for your pity. Stop being so nice. Kindness gets you nothing.”

“I didn’t ask for anything, Young Master,” Wen Ning whispers. His long bangs fall across his face and Wen Chao wants nothing more than to cut them off. If this is to be his last sight then nothing should obscure it. At least this feeble fool has such a girlish face. It’s easy to pretend a beautiful, delicate maiden is attending his bedside. Though he would prefer those doleful, pitying cow eyes to be gouged out.

They disgust him.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He orders.

Those stupid eyes start to shine and glaze over. “I’ll...I’ll try? I’m sorry.”

“If you say sorry one more time...” His other hand comes up to viciously tug at the gauze over Wen Ning’s face. It starts to fall. Wen Ning jerks, his fingers frantically fly up to hold it in place. “I’ll give you a reason to be sorry for.”

“I’m s–” Wen Ning swallows. The apology gets caught in his throat. “It won’t happen again, Young Master.”

“Good.”

The dust lights the room in red. Wen Chao appreciates the way the light catches on the gold and silver decorations here and there.

“Is there...Is there anyone you want me to call for?”

“Who is there left to summon? My bodyguard is dead and my whore fled the city days ago. No. You’ll do. Your bedside manner is enough and I don’t even have to order you to cry for me, do I?”

Wen Ning’s lower lip starts to tremble.

“See, you stupid boy. You’re already the perfect mourner. Perhaps you should just leave. Just like all the others.” The room is already a tomb. Every clan member that said, promised, swore they would stick with him until the end is gone. Not even the servants remain. “Your other efforts are pointless anyway. My nerves have burned through, I feel nothing, nothing now.”

The sunset makes Wen Ning’s eyes of jade glow.

“I-I could stay with you.” The fool even has the insolence to sit on the bed beside him. His weight making Wen Chao’s body sink and their sides knock together lightly as they settle.

“Ha! Why?”

“No one should die alone.”

Wen Chao’s mouth opens. Then closes.

Without the rejection, Wen Ning moves his hand to cover over Wen Chao’s. It’s hesitant. Like a dragonfly resting on a blade of grass. Wen Chao could shake it off immediately. Should do so immediately. He doesn’t need this kindness. This pity.

He doesn’t.

“I’ll stay with you.” Wen Ning repeats. This time firmer. This time with iron filling his quiet voice. “Until it’s over.”

Wen Chao’s fingers twist and worm themselves between Wen Ning’s. His nails dig grooves into the back of Wen Ning’s knuckles, ensuring the idiot can’t break his promise easily.

“...mark your words, Wen Ning and don’t you dare look away.” And then for his last order, he demands Wen Ning is to cut the flow of energy.

Wen Ning obeys.

Wen Chao doesn’t say thank you when the bedside curtains fill with smoke, the white fabric becoming charcoaled and stained with brown and black curls. Wen Chao doesn’t cry or beg or wail because like he said, there’s no pain, and he will not disgrace himself before this hopeless weakling. The weakling that will have to take care of the clan after him. So he bites his lips to keep them closed and let Wen Ning make all the noises instead.

Wei Ning does not look away.

In the morning when he seeks his sister’s comfort, she notices the burnt scar tissue wrapped around his fingers and the back of his hand like ugly pink snakes.

He doesn’t ask her to heal it.

He never does.

Wen Qing learns to hate.

Learns to hates the long dark hallways to the bedchamber and how her shoes ring so loud on the stone floor. Learns to hates the small closet of a room she must reside in that’s next to it, all in order to be close to her patient and her patient’s needs. Learns to despise the stifling nature that she’s unable to discern if the source is from dealing with the time-consuming disease or from the presence of Wen Ruohan himself.

Her only respite is the high arched windows she can perch beside when the disease finally ebbs and lulls.

Or when the beast sleeps.

“What gives you such amusement?”

But it’s never for long. So he’s awake. Of course, he is. Why would he fall to sleep for more than an hour or two?

She sighs. The warm curling tones from the bedside curtains suggest their lord is in almost a playful mood. A mood that she must humor...or else. “The stars. I never knew they were so bright over the city.” Her eyes sweep towards the heavens, the spray of stars clustering together in a glorious line. The ever lit lamps must have smudged the view them out before like a child’s dirty fingers. Their smoky haze stealing light from the celestial sky.

“How charming. Take me to the window.” He orders.

Wen Qing does. She rises from her seat to approach the bed. Offering a hand, the man grabs her wrist to pull himself upright slowly, his fingers proprietorial as they trail down her forearm for a better grip. She grits her teeth, then clenches harder, at unnecessary touches continue at the small of her back to her hip as they hobble to the window. At least the cover of night is enough to mask her expression.

“Ah. You are correct.” He states as they settle next to the intricate latticework of the window. The shadows of it lash over their forms as they peer up.

She doesn’t know if Wen Ruohen plans to make her into a wife or a concubine, but she does know that the wing of his palace where they used to be kept is empty, all of his claimed beauties died during the first two weeks of the epidemic.

If she scars her face, will her body stay empty?

Wen Qing feels his breath on her skin. He’s too close beside her. One hand checks her veil to make sure she doesn’t inhale his smoke. In her ear is a dark, cloying chuckle.

“Fear not, my dear Branch Head, I am far too careful to accidentally kill one that keeps me alive.” Together they lean against the windowsill. He demands, “How soon until the cure is completed?”

“The Lan Sect administered the newest batch to willing volunteers yesterday. The sect will see the results of their test tomorrow.” It is not the first test they’ve conducted. If Wen Qing was with them, it could be. Instead, after each trial, the Lan Sect bows and act as silent sentinels for the mourning when hope turns to ruin.

Failure wears on them all.

“What a nuisance. Without a definite cure, the plan cannot proceed.”

Wen Qing is not the only one without sleep but at these words, her spine tenses. “What plan, Sect Leader?”

His side presses into hers firmly and scoffs as if her incompetence amuses him. “Why this disease may be a blessing in disguise, my ignorant healer. The perfect instrument to bring those insubordinate, arrogant sects to heel.”

“Forgive me, My Lord, I do not follow.” She says numbly.

The light is minimal, but Wen Ning does not need much to see that hint of a smirk. “You’re far too clever to be daft to the possibilities. This curse of ours could be our greatest asset. Once a cure is provided, we will need to prove our clan’s might. To prove that we are not fallen. That a weakened sun can still scorch its enemies.”

Wen Qing’s heart pounds loud in her ears. No. No. From her memories, images of the empty courtyard, the marketplace, of grey wraiths drifting by floods her mind.

“The only way to rise in the sky is to burn those that soar?” She questions with a careful, blank face.

A palm almost crushes her shoulder. The scourge has done nothing to Wen Ruohen’s strength. “Do you honestly believe the other sects will not take advantage of our current state?” He hisses. “That they will not circle like the vultures they are? That they won’t descend and feed upon our carrion and wealth?”

Or escape now that the Wen Sect’s stranglehold is slack. Or worse...that the previous subdued, dejected clans will find the courage to retaliate. These things, these concerns are real.

Wen Qing knows that.

“No.” The Sect Leader says scornfully. “Surely, you cannot be this foolish.”

She is no fool. Still, she attempts to reason. “Some sects are more than scavengers. The Lan Sect, for instance, has thrown themselves into danger for our aid. And others will not throw away the chance to gain favors between–”

“The Wen Sect does not do favors.” Wen Ruohen tightens his grip enough to hurt. “The Sun may bless, but it doesn’t owe. I grow tired of your responses.”

“Then I will speak no more.” She will not even warn him that their conversation is definitely affecting Wen Ruohen’s condition. She makes no mention about the veins that have conquered another centimeter on his visible flesh. Soon they will enter his eyes.

“Good. No one is fond of talkative women. Once the cure is made, our preparations will begin. First…”

Wen Qing turns back to the window, gazing up at the stars as he outlines his plan. How the ashes of their dead will be used instead of wetted down and buried as they have been. How something so horrible can be innovative, a new weapon among flying swords and powerful seals. How the miasma will be kept alive in ash cakes strategically placed for the wind to tear apart in Lotus Pier, the Golden Tower, the Unclean Realm...and Cloud Recesses.

With each sentence, she steels herself. There is a thought that keeps echoing in her head, a thought she keeps rejecting because she is a doctor. She helps people. She heals them. But the idea grows with quiet persistence.

“–As for the Lan Sect, we must detain the members here immediately. Only when the Scorch has spread, will they be allowed to return home. By doing so, they will be so frantic to heal their own they will not think to help others with the same plight.”

“You would thank them like this?” The words escape her.

So does her breath when Wen Ruohen slaps her.

The smack is loud in the silent bedchamber. Her head forced to the side from the blow. When she turns back, they stare at each other and Wen Qing doesn’t bother to lift a hand to her cheek. Yes, she spoke out of turn. She can’t believe she forgot to tread lightly here.

“Do not question my mercy.” He says in low tones. It’s not exactly an apology but his finger is gentle as it traces over the veil, right on the red mark he made. “Unlike the rest, the Lan Sect will already have access to the cure. That is gracious enough. The others will have to come forward and might be able to buy it from our cultivators if they beg prettily enough.”

Wen Qing holds her breath.

“I simply can’t wait...to tell several of them no.” He ends with his thumb tenderly rubbing over her new bruise, his nails catching at her hair as the rest of his fingers frame the side of Wen Qing’s neck. “Yes, the Lan Sect should be grateful. As should you.”

She says nothing.

Wen Ruohen is the last member of the main family. A few days ago, he had alerted the rest of the elders of his intent to merge Main and Branch families of the Qishan Wen Sect. Either way, after him, she is second in power.

After him.

“Bring us back to the bed, I am ready to rest a bit longer.” Wen Ruohen murmurs, his eyes are heavy and when he comes close enough, Wen Qing doesn’t flinch when their lips touch through the veil. It’s his favorite way to take spiritual energy from her. The drain makes her body sags a little in his hold. “Shall we rest together?”

He won’t force her. Wen Ruohen is too prideful for that, but if she says yes she’ll be close enough to...the fingers in her hair tighten in stages, the pain makes her wince at the admonishment. Oh, that’s right, he asked her a direct question. and weariness makes him impatient.

“...Just for rest.” Wen Qing answers.

He laughs at her. “Yes. Just for rest,” he mockingly repeats as they return to the bed and slide over the sheets. Only then does he unravel his hands from her hair and clothes. They stay on top of the covers with about a foot or two between them for health and propriety’s sake.

Wen Qing fiddles with something in her sleeve. She takes a gamble, “My Lord, would you like to be sedated as usual?” She pulls out an acupuncture needle that gleams in the dim light.

“Hmph. Only for pain. Do not go too deep.” He tilts his head towards her.

Wen Qing keeps her hold on the needle steady, business-like and professional in her every movement. “Of course, Sect Leader.” She places the tool at the point between his eyes and sinks it in carefully, slowly. The Wen Sect Leader whole body goes slack.

Then she pushes the needle deep.

Deeper then she has ever gone before with him.

The body jerks once, but it’s too late. Wen Ruohen falls unconscious immediately.

She sits up and gets to work. Her hands fast to place more and more needles. Needles to numb, needles to immobilize, needles, more needles as if she can’t trust the comatose state, Wen Ruohen’s cultivation is so high, what if he wakes up, if he wakes up he’ll…

He won’t. Wen Qing stabilizes her breathing. The shaky quality of it is disgraceful.

The last thing she does is release the seals she’s painted on Wen Ruohen skin to stop the progress of the Scorch. Like greedy shadows, they race for new territory to conquer.

And then...she watches their sun go out.

It’s a new dawn and Lan WangLi never intended to kidnap a child. Nor did he intend for a two-year-old to be thrust at him until said child latched onto his leg.

The boy refuses to let go.

“Take him. Get him far away from this awful place.” A knapsack of possessions is shoved at his arm until he takes it. Lan WangJi does not believe this is how adoption works. The tiny arms around his leg tighten and when he glances down it’s hard to break the gaze between him and those huge round eyes.

He swallows roughly. “Madam. I cannot–” He starts out with but he doesn’t get far in his excuses due to a bony finger. It stabs into his chest. Repeatedly. The old woman is half his size, her spine crooked and frail but there’s fire in those eyes and Lan WangJi has never been so intimidated.

“Yes. You. Can.” The finger jabs. “You are just the guardian he needs. I know this because you did not ignore his tears. You saw a child in need and did not abandon him in his distress.”

No. Instead Lan WangJi had just quite awkwardly stood there in front of the child. For five minutes. His head whipping back and forth to scan for aid in the empty marketplace. The few survivors that scurry on the outskirts barely gave the scene a tired glance or a sniff before continuing on their way. Only when the child’s sobbing grew even louder did Lan WangJi remember the fresh lotus seeds in his pouch.

The lotus seeds his husband had prepared for this trip.

The seeds that were specifically prepared for him.

They’re bland, barely salty. His favorite. His heart hurts. If he lingers on the hole in his chest, where his husband belongs and fits so well, he’ll be inconsolable until his brother finds him. However, Wei Wuxian would forgive him if he gave a few seeds to the boy. Or maybe half the bag. Lan WangJi may confess he had been stressed at the time and grabbed at the chance of respite when the cries had halted the moment he pulled one from his bag. If the shiny whiteness of it was what distracted the child, then there’s no shame for Lan WangJi to pull out handfuls more. He pushed one seed after another into that small mouth.

That happy munching was very much preferable to lonely tears.

“The boy belongs with his clan.” He attempts to argue. Lan WangJi remembers the speech the new sect leader made yesterday. Another rather intimidating Wen Sect woman to be honest. Her white robe stark in the morning light when they announced that Wen Ruohen was dead.

“Many have forgotten the Sun gives as well as takes. Release any clan that wishes to leave our subjugation. Let them find out if they can live without our light.” It is an answer the surviving Wen Elders can accept. Especially since their focus should be on recovery and stabilization. They also feel pacified when Wen Qing says, “Only let them come back if they beg.”

She will be a strong leader. Lan WangJi doubts the sect will have any trouble with her around.

“No, the boy belongs with someone who can keep him safe. This is no place for a child. You think everything will be fine now that the disease has been stopped? Ha.” The crone crows. “You think we don’t know how much the other sects talk about us? How much the other sects hate us? Our burning time isn’t over yet. No, with restoring the clan and defending against attacks, this is not where our A-Yuan can grow.”

“His parents–”

“–Are dead.” She answers with steel. “And I’m already one foot in the grave myself. We of the Qishan Wen clan don’t ask for favors lightly, young man. If you require payment, there‘s plenty of funds in the bag…”

“No. That’s not it.” His brow furrows. The hands on his pant leg begin to shake and quietly he rests a hand to softly pat the top of that small head.

Her features soften minutely. “Please. Please be A-Yuan’s guardian, even temporarily, Young Master Lan.”

“I know nothing about the care of a child.”

The old sect member observes the gentle way the Lan Sect member untangles A-Yuan’s fingers from his clothes. How he bends down, kneels at A-Yuan’s level before wiping the corner of his mouth with a clean sleeve. “I think you’ll do just fine. So will you take him?” She asks.

The toddler smiles a toothy grin in gratitude. Lan WangJi is weak. Terribly weak to expressions like that.

“...Mn.”

It’s as if Wei Wuxian was a plant, a neglected one, that once watered with the news that his husband was returning sprung back up with a vengeance.

Truly Lan Qiren regrets giving him the paper missive.

“Is he here?” Wei Wuxian rocks back and forth on his heels and Lan Qiren is this close from pushing him off the mountain. The man paces in front of the entry gates, the elder perched in a meditative pose, weary from the excited energy the Wei Wuxian alludes. “Is he here yet?”

In his grip, the paper with his husband’s handwriting flutters as his arms wave about. Lan Qiren had given him that message three days ago. Wei Wuxian has not put it down once. Perhaps tucked it into his robe when he eats, but Lan Qiren has caught him unrolling it to reread the lines, mouthing the words as he stares at it with the most disgusting of fond smiles.

‘I’m coming home.’

“No. I told you once, I told you a thousand times, when our absent Lan members return the outer wards of Cloud Recesses will chime.”

“But they haven’t chimed yet. I haven’t heard them go off once.” Wei Wuxian whines worse than the biggest brat Lan Qiren has ever had the misfortune of teaching. Perhaps because Wei Wuxian has been that brat. Beyond Lan Qiren’s comprehension that trait of his has only advanced.

Wei Wuxian may be the master of vexation.

“Yes, because he isn’t here.” He grits out with his eyes to the heavens, begging for patience.

“But whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?” Wei Wuxian continues in the most irritating way possible. “He said he would hurry back as soon as he was able. He’s able. He’s skilled. He should be here by now!”

One must understand that Lan Qiren has put up with the same behavior for three days.

He explodes.

“If you cannot wait then leave! Go out to meet him!” Lan Qiren shouts.

Wei Wuxian twists to him in surprise. “Wait, I can do that?”

“I do not see why not!” The veins in his face bulge. Wei Wuxian is an ever threat to his blood pressure.

Those eyes widen and sparkle, his lips stretch into a disbelieving grin of news too good to be true. “I can do that. I can go see Lan Zhan right now! Thanks for the brilliant idea, Master Teacher! Who knew you could still impart knowledge to a troublemaker like me!” He draws Suibian to jump on it for flight.

“A feat I’m not sure to be proud of.”

But that frustrating charge of his is already gone. A figure in black already high in the sky and racing through the mist and clouds. A chime sounds signifying that their magical barrier has been crossed. Lan Qiren shakes his head.

Newlyweds. Hopeless, idiotic newlyweds.

Wei Wuxian urges Suibian faster. Faster. How could he not think of going out to meet Lan Zhan himself? And he supposed to be the clever one! See? This is another reason why he should stick to Lan Zhan’s side always, without the man to match wits with, his brain dulls significantly when he’s gone.

His hair whips behind him as he searches the horizon for any sign of white that’s not a cloud or snow-capped peak. The wind making his eyes sting and water as he presses to hurry. To find him. His heart beating in tune to the thought, a mantra, when time stretches for far too long.

Find him.

I need him.

I want him.

I love–

There!

“LAN ZHAN!” Wei Wuxian screams. That blur of white better not be a flock of birds. Oh gods, please don’t let that be just his imagination messing with him. He sends up a signal just in case, firing up the Cloud Recesses symbol though it barely shows with the sun directly overhead.

He gets an answering flare.

So he screams some more. His joy bursting as he flies harder, flies quicker until the blur becomes plain to see. Becomes definitely not a flock of birds, but a group of white robes and one of them passes something to another before breaking away from the rest.

Racing to meet him halfway.

Racing to collide into him.

They crash and it hurts. It hurts in the best of ways when Wei Wuxian launches himself off his sword into arms that snap open to catch him.

It doesn’t quite stop them from falling.

But somehow they make it to the forest floor in one piece, somehow between desperate kisses that pepper over every inch of skin they can reach, Wei Wuxian going for cheeks, forehead, eyes while Lan WangJi struggles to keep Wei Wuxian’s face still long enough with one hand on his jaw because he hasn’t tasted his husband in weeks.

Bichen is a talented weapon. It keeps both fools alive and gets them to land on firm ground.

With a wise hand gesture from the other Twin Jade, the group above keeps moving. They don’t need to be around for this.

“You look horrible.” Wei WuXian says happily. His hands carding through Lan WangJi’s hair, messing the silken strains up even more. “Whatever happened to my neat and pristine husband?”

“Sorry,” is murmured against his mouth.

It’s as if Wei Wuxian’s looking in a mirror. There are bags under red eyes and parts of his clothing rumpled. It’s a gleeful consolation that Lan WangJi looks as harried as he. It serves him right for leaving him. Wei Wuxian fingers move to fix Lan WangJi’s crooked forehead ribbon. They linger there. No one could dare peel off the digits if they tried. His hands belong there now. On his husband's skin, and Lan Zhan is just going to have to deal with that for the rest of his life. Tough luck.

He married him.

Yet since strong arms move to his hips, pulling them flush together, and perhaps it’s not that much of hardship to the other man at all.

He sure as hell doesn’t mind. Not when Lan WangJi pushes him up against a tree. The rough bark scraping his back means nothing when he finally has his legs around Lan WangJi’s waist again. Their bodies still fit together like two pieces of a puzzle and as Lan WangJi attacks his neck, he laughs. This feels so right.

“I didn’t miss you.” We Wuxian uses his grip on Lan WangJi’s hair jerk the head up from the impressive kiss mark his husband is in the process of making. But too bad. He wants another kiss. Needs another kiss right now.

“Mn.” His husband provides. He answers his wish by sucking in his bottom lip between his teeth for a bite.

Wei Wuxian hopes it bleeds. A little pain is fine if it proves this isn’t a dream. “I knew you were coming back.”

“Mn.” Lan WangJi loosens his robes, longs to feel that skin he’s missed for so long. He has too many ‘everydays’ to catch up on.

“But don’t—“ Wei WuXian pulls back, unforgivable, to hit his own chest to clear it, to stop that wobbly sound. “Don’t ever leave me behind like that again.”

“I won’t.”

“I didn’t like it. I hated it. I was so...bored.”

“I was bored as well.” Lan WangLi chews on the phrase. It’s not quite right but it’ll have to do. He presses their foreheads together and attempts more words. He knows they’re important but they’re so much more clumsy than actions. “Your company is pleasant. I missed your voice. I missed your face next to mine when I wake. We should not part again.”

The ‘stay with me’ is crystal clear in his golden eyes.

“Ha! You’ve done it now. Now you’ll never get rid of me! I promise I’ll be stickier than rice. Are you prepared for that Lan Zhan?”

“Yes. Always.”

And when Wei Wuxian snickers and burrows deeper into his embrace Lan WangLi can finally breathe again.

He’s home.

Later...much later.

“Husband, mine. Why is there a child in the Jinishi?” Wei Wuxian puzzled and confused gawks at the new addition, the new souvenir, in their home.

“...He’s ours.”

Wei Wuxian blinks, the child looks up at him and raises his arms. “Up!”

Wei Wuxian picks him up automatically. Not that there would be any other option. Not with those chubby cheeks that just beg for a pinch and a squish and a kiss...maybe two. “Since when? I don’t recall giving birth. Despite your various consistent efforts.”

The tips of Lan WangJi’s ears go red. Not necessarily for this purpose but those efforts had been very, very thorough.

Of course, Wei Wuxian can’t help but play up the drama, he gasps, “Did my Lan Zhan have an affair? Is this your child from another lover? Oh, woe is me, now I do have cause for divorce!”

“What other lover? I would not stray.” Lan WangJi states with cold eyes. Wei Wuxian snorts and buries his face in the boy’s hair, his whole body shaking with suppressed laughter because Lan WangJi looks so offended.

“Did you kidnap him?” He teases.

“No. Present.”

“A toddler was given to you for a present?” Wei Wuxian screeches. Flustered Lan WangJi spins away from the pair. When Wei Wuxian tries to walk around him, to see his face, his husband turns away again. Oh, this man is so cute. Hopelessly entertained, Wei Wuxian decides to give him some mercy...for now. “And how did that happen?”

“I was asked to be his guardian.” The explanation is stiff, awkward.

“And you forgot to consult your dear spouse if we were ready for kids? I’m shocked, Lan Zhan! How dare you! I’m far too young to be a father.” His ire all pretend.

Lan WangJi can somehow sense that, it turns the tide into a direction Wei Wuxian has no control over. Tucking his hands in his sleeves, he finally faces the two. “Is that so?”

The boy makes a small sound of discomfort. Distracted, Wei Wuxian bounces the child up to hold him more securely. “Hmmm I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I think you have all the characteristics of a great father.” And then Lan WangJi smiles.

Is Lan WangJi going to win every argument by smiling at him?

Dumbfounded and red Wei Wuxian sputters. The kid muffles a giggle into his neck and fuck, fine Wei Wuxian has a small one now. This is fine. Instant child, fine, he can work with this.

It’s going to be much harder to divorce Lan Zhan, oh ho, was that his cunning husband’s plan? To trap him with a child? So he can’t even think of breaking up a happy family dynamic? How diabolical! But he can work with this.

He’s not alone anymore.

Not with Lan Zhan by his side.

Not with his l-lov–he can’t say that L-word….not in his mind or out loud.

Not yet.

#IT IS DONE #I AM FREE #my writing #mo dao zu shi #arranged marriage #wangxian #domestic happy fic #wen qing is a bamf #wen qing #mdzs

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thislassishooked · 6 years ago

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How to Carve a Pumpkin (Not Yourself)

Well, I did it, I finished my Halloween fic. This is based on a prompt given to me by the lovely @hollyethecurious

Please excuse anything that looks weird, this was my first time using the keep reading and it kept giving me grief. This is unbetad because I literally just finished it. All mistakes are mine. I hope you enjoy!

Tagging some of my other dear friends that might get a kick out of it. @ilovemesomekillianjones @winterbaby89 @xemmaloveskillianx @kmomof4 @kymbersmith-90 @snowbellewells

Rated G (But I may be persuaded to add an M rated sepual since I loves these characters so much)

4200 words

Emma slipped her arms through her jacket sleeves, flipping her hair out from under her collar. She tried to keep the sigh from her lips as her sister-in-law knocked on her door.

“Just give it a chance, mom,” Henry encouraged from the couch, “you really need to improve your carving skills. It’s a little embarrassing to have a triangle eye and nose with crooked teeth pumpkin glowing on our front porch every year.”

“Hey, it’s a classic. I recall you creating that same masterpiece not too long ago,” she quipped while ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, like six years ago.”

“Is your homework done?” He nodded. “You get another thirty minutes on the Xbox, then get yourself ready for bed.”

“I got it mom, Mary-Margaret is waiting.”

“Okay, kid, be good for Elsa.” She leaned in to place a kiss on the top of his head and hollered a quick goodbye to Elsa.

“Have fun!” Elsa yelled back from the kitchen.

Mary Margaret’s gleaming smile met her on the other side. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be for a pumpkin carving master class,” Emma replied sarcastically.

“Just you wait. The instructor just moved to town and is a four time Master Pumpkin Carver,” she spoke as the bounced down the steps.

“And that means… what exactly?”

“Don’t you ever watch the Travel Channel?” Emma gave her a guilty shrug. “It means he’s the best in the country. Last year he won with one that perfectly resembled that rock troll leader.” Emma sighed in defeat. “Plus, he just bought and renovated that old used bookstore on Main that I know you loved as a kid.” That did spark some interest in Emma, but she sensed there was more. “And… he’s single,” she sing songed. There it was. The reason she’s learning how to carve a pumpkin at twenty eight years old. Mary Margaret wants to play matchmaker.

“How on earth could you know that?” Emma asked while struggling to find her seatbelt buckle.

“David’s been helping him with some of the restoration. He loves to get his hands dirty so he’s been going in after hours to help get the place ready to the grand re-opening.”

“And does said master pumpkin carver have a name?”

“Killian Jones. He’s originally from Ireland.”

Fantastic, Mary Margaret wants to set her up with a good looking, (I assume he’s good looking), single, master pumpkin carver, hard working, Irishman. What could possibly go wrong?

They arrived at Storybrooke High with only minutes to spare. Apparently Mr. Jones agreed to teach in one of the art rooms and he was doing it for scraps. A mere $10 fee to pay for your pumpkin and carving supplies. Just who was this guy?

Emma and Mary Margaret settled on a set of desks near the back with Belle and Ariel joining them shortly thereafter. Emma was surprised to see August there, but if there was a potentially handsome, single man within a ten mile radius of their small town, August would be there. The man had been on more dates in the last year than Emma had in her life.

“So what do you plan to carve?” Belle asked her after they had settled.

“I don’t know, I just figured he’d give us an example and I’d copy that,” Emma answered with disinterest.

“Oh, you were supposed to bring an image for inspiration, did I not mention that?” Mary Margaret asked innocently.

Emma turned to her sneaky sister-in-law. “No, I believe that was not something you shared with me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t worry, I’m sure Killian can help you with that.”

At every desk, a pre-selected pumpkin had been placed. Emma studied hers, noticing how perfect the dimensions were. It was as if she had sat down at the only perfect pumpkin in the whole room. Belle’s had some weird warts, Ariel’s was flat in the front, Mary Margaret’s was too large, but Emma’s was… perfect. It didn’t seem fair since she had no intention of carving out any sort of masterpiece.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” an accented voice said from the doorway. “I’ll be your host for the night, does everyone have a pumpkin?” A slew of yes’s answered the man who owned the not at all sexy voice of whom she had yet to see. “Excellent, I’m Killian Jones, lets get started with the basics, shall we?” Emma finally spotted the source of the accent and damn, if he wasn’t the epitome of tall, dark and handsome.

“Isn’t he delicious?” Ariel whispered into Emma’s ear.

“Airel,” Emma admonished, “you’re married!”

“Very happily married, but it doesn’t mean I can’t acknowledge a hotty when I see ‘em,” she teased.

“I have to agree with Ariel, that man is a ten on the hotness scale,” Belle added.

Emma looked to Mary Margaret expecting her to reprimand their friends because if there was anyone on the planet that was more devoted to her husband than Ariel, it was Mary Margaret. But all she found was a slightly guilty grimace.

“He is… pretty cute Emma.”

Emma was stunned. Although she agreed with her friends that his dark, ruffled hair that swooped just above his ocean blue eyes and his days old scruff that peppered the lower half of his very handsome face gave him an above average grade in the “hotness scale” as Belle had put it, she was above superficially rating a person. He could turn out to be a total asshole.

“You should all have the tools you’ll need for tonight,” he continued. “A carving knife and a large scoop. Be sure to cut a large enough hole around the stem or you’ll have a hell of a time scooping out the guts. Always remember to keep your knife at an inward angle so the top will have some support when you replace it.”

That seemed simple enough. Emma got to work, every once in a while sneaking a peek at the admittedly handsome instructor as he circulated the room every so often when he took a break from his own carving up front.

__________

Killian had taught many carving classes over the years, but had recently grown weary of the menial job. There was more to his life than a silly tradition of carving a squash in the days leading up to Halloween. It didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy carving his own creation in the comfort of his home, but the “glamour” of being a carving master had spread like wildfire through the small New England town. He had inadvertently become a local celebrity.

When Dave had asked him to host a class because his very sweet wife Mary Margaret had expressed interest, who also happens to be an excellent cook, he could not deny the woman her wishes. David’s help in restoring the old used book store had been pivotal in his dream of settling down in a cozy town by the sea and living as normal of a life as he could. Of course he had come to consider both David and Mary Margaret as dear friends. This class was purely a favor to his friend for all the free labor David had offered when he first found out that Killian had purchased the building. Apparently, the store had been a favorite of David’s sister when she was growing up and he wanted to help restore it to its former glory for her. Killian would have been a fool to refuse the help because David really knew what he was doing. The place was almost ready for its grand re-opening after only three months of back breaking work.

Killian spotted the object of David’s affection not long into his first circulation and approached her with a wide, genuine grin. As he got closer, his eyes averted to the beautiful blonde beside her, clearly struggling with carving the top off her pumpkin. Her tongue stuck out on the side of her mouth to indicate she was concentrating very hard on the task.

“Killian!” Mary Margaret squealed, using her hands to pull his full attention to them. He didn’t need Mary Margaret’s over exuberance to lead him in her direction. The gorgeous woman to her right was doing a fine job of it.

“Good evening, Mary Margaret,” he greeted with a flourished bow and a side eye on her friend.

“Oh,” Mary Margaret caught on very quickly, “this is Emma, David’s sister, well adopted sister, but that’s not really important,” Mary Margaret rushed.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Emma…” he knew she had a different last name than David, but wanted to hear it from her lips.

“Swan,” she supplied briskly, not meeting his eyes.

“Swan,” he replied in his most seductive voice. This apparently caused her to meet his gaze. He was instantly mesmerized by her emerald gems. There was something about Emma Swan that left him speechless, and according to everyone he had ever known, he was never for lack of words.

She broke the trance as a pained cry left her mouth. He looked down only to realize that she had cut herself with the carving knife.

_________

Emma had done some stupid things in her life, but cutting her hand because she couldn’t take her eyes off of a relative stranger was high on the list. Her pumpkin was covered in blood and Mary Margaret had started to panic, but Killian flew into action. He grabbed a flask from his bag and raced back to her.

“For some reason we don’t have a first aid kit in the classroom, but I’ve got the next best thing. Give me your hand love.”

“It’s fine,” Emma protested.

“No, it’s not, you’re hurt,” he stated with concern.

Emma offered him her hand which she came to regret when he popped the top of his flask off with his teeth and poured it over her open wound.

“Ah, ah, what the hell is that?” she yelped.

“It’s rum, the closest thing we have to an antiseptic. The burning will settle soon enough,” he said with sincerity. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches, Emma, but for now we must stop the bleeding.” He then proceeded to unwrap his scarf from his neck and secure it around her hand instead. His left hand was covered in “pumpkin guts” as he had clarified, so he used his goddamn gorgeous mouth to secure the scarf in place, pulling it tight with his teeth and the whole time never taking his eyes off of hers. Emma was transfixed as he stared into her eyes longer than necessary. She only broke the trance once she realized that the whole class and her sister-in-law were silently watching them. It seemed to bring Kilian back to reality as well. He practically lept from her side and resumed his duties.

It was only near the end of class the he approached her one last time. “How does the hand feel?”

“It’s fine, doesn’t even throb. You can have your scarf back,” Emma offered with an outstretched hand.

“You should probably keep it on for another few hours. What I really wanted to know is, what is your plan for your carving? Everyone else brought a picture of their ideal carving, but you seem to have none.”

“That’s because I don’t,” she stated emphatically.

He knelt down again so he was eye level with her. “What are you passionate about, Emma?”

Emma was taken aback by his rather forward inquiry. She knew that he was only trying to help inspire a stupid idea for a stupid carving that she absolutely had no investment in, but something told her that it meant more. She closed her eyes and the only image that popped up in her head was Henry.

“My son,” she answered with a smile.

Killian nodded his head in understanding. “And what is your son passionate about?”

Emma found her eyes had landed on his again. The sincerity in them burning into her very soul. She only had to think about her answer for a matter of seconds because her son was very transparent.

“At the moment, dinosaurs,” she answered on a laugh. Killian laughed along with her.

“That is very typical of an eight… ten year old?” Killian guessed.

“Ten,” Emma affirmed.

“Tomorrow night I will have what you need to create a dinosaur masterpiece that your boy will love.”

Emma had no words. This man that she had just met expressed a sincere intention to please her son, a boy he had never met, a boy he owed nothing to.

“Will you come by the bookstore tomorrow, love?” The endearment threw her off, but she quickly realized that it was probably a force of habit from growing up in Ireland. “I would like to discuss the details of your son’s passion.”

“Henry,” she said, even surprising herself. She never talked about her son with men.

“Alright then,” Killian said with an adorable lopsided smile, “Henry’s passion.”

“I thought the bookstore wasn’t open yet,” she asked on a whisper.

“For you, love, it is open anytime.” That statement had thrown Emma for a loop. He had said it with such yearning that her body shook, a sensation she hadn’t experienced in some time.

“If I have the time, perhaps I’ll stop by,” she said nonchalantly. That, of course, caused a huge grin to break out across Killian’s face.

“I look forward to it,” was the last thing he said to her before instructing the class to start cleaning up for the night.

Emma stood outside the little shop that she loved so much as a kid. She had debated going all day, but with Henry spending the evening at a friend’s house, she couldn’t think of any excuse not to show up. She knew he was there because the lights were on. The carving class didn’t start for another two hours so she steeled her nerves and knocked on the old fashioned french doors. They were newly painted and looked as good as she remembered.

Her hand was now wrapped in an ace bandage and Killian’s scarf freshly washed. She had managed to get the bloodstain out, but was remiss to return it to him. She heard footsteps approaching and waited on bated breath as he unlocked and opened the door. He was just as gorgeous as she remembered, his dark hair slick from having been recently washed. His spicy scent assaulted her senses and for a moment, she was struck speechless. His face lit up when their eyes met and she was shaken by the desire to pull his lips to hers and find out if he tasted as good as he looked.

“Swan, a pleasure, as always.”

“As always? We’ve only just met,” she teased.

“Aye, but I am sure that every time you grace my presence in the future will be a pleasure,” he said, taking her hand in his and placing a feather light kiss just above her knuckles. Emma’s breath was momentarily lost at the old fashioned gesture. “Please, come in. I have several ideas put together for Henry’s surprise pumpkin.” Her heart swelled at the thought that he had remembered her son’s name.

Upon entering the old store she was overwhelmed by the smell of old books. The musky scent that comes from a well used book has always been a favorite of hers. He had even kept the name she always found cleaver. The Books of Yesterday. It was an appropriate name considering just about all of the inventory was older than her.

“Would you like something to drink, love?” Emma couldn’t help blush at the familiar endearment.

“Um, do you have any cocoa?”

“Of course, with whipped cream and cinnamon, yes?” Emma’s mouth fell open. She was sure she never mentioned that to him before. “Your brother often spoke of you during the renovation and he mentioned that was your favorite beverage,” he clarified. He scratched a spot just behind his right ear, a gesture that she found adorable, then turned to retrieve said cocoa.

Emma took the time to peruse the old shop. He and David had done wonders to bring the magic back to the place she had spent so many hours at as a lonely child. That was before David had discovered she was an orphan that had run away from her group home. Although the adoption was never made legal, Ruth Nolan considered Emma her daughter the moment David had finally convinced her to come home with him. He was already dating Mary Margaret at the time, apparently high school sweethearts, and she had gained a mother, brother and sister all in one night. It was the best decision she had ever made. Well, that and keeping Henry of course.

Killian returned with two steaming mugs of cocoa topped with fluffy white cream and dusted with cinnamon. She smiled as she thanked him.

“I have the carving examples in my office if you’d like to take a look at them,” he said bashfully.

“Lead the way, master carver,” she quipped. As it turned out, he had printed at least twenty pictures of possible dinosaur carvings, many of them too intricate for her.

“Do you happen to know what Henry’s favorite species is?” Emma thought back to the times he had convinced her to watch the Jurassic Park movies with him. He had always perked up when a raptor was on screen.

“He loves the velociraptors as well as the t-rex, but the raptors are his favorite for sure.”

Killian picked out a very difficult carving that almost looked like the raptor’s head was jumping right out of the pumpkin. “I’m afraid this is the only example I could find that resembled a raptor.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. I could hardly finger paint as a kid. Not the artistic type, but I think I could handle the t-rex. The one from the Jurassic Park logo doesn’t look too difficult and it is Henry’s favorite movie.”

He pulled the picture from the pile and handed it to her. “And I will be there every step of the way to help you create a masterpiece for your son,” he spoke reverently.

__________

Killian bid Emma farewell after giving her a few books to read that she was interested in. He wasn’t running a library, but couldn’t find it in himself to charge her for them. She had refused at first, but he had managed to convince her with the knowledge that he was certain she would return them in good condition and still very much sellable. He didn’t buy the bookstore to make a profit. He had already done that with his previous job as a stockbroker in London. He had told Emma that after his brother perished in a naval exercise gone wrong, he packed up what little he owned, entrusted his clients with his best friend and coworker Robin and left for America with no plan.

Emma was doing a fantastic job with her carving the next night. She needed help with getting the teeth just right since they were so many of them. Every time he would lean over her to give her instruction he would breath in her lovely scent. She smelled of apples and cinnamon and it was a scrumptious combination. He was remiss to bid her farewell at the end of the night. Tomorrow was Halloween and everyone would light up their creations. Mary Margaret had done a fine job of carving her princess design as well.

“So what are your plans for tomorrow night, love? Trick or treating with your boy?”

“Yeah, just as soon as I finish my shift. Henry is very excited to see my jack-o-lantern. Thank you Killian, for helping me put a smile on his face.”

“And what is young master Henry dressing as for the evening?”

“A pirate. He’s very excited about it.”

Killian beamed at the new information. He and his brother grew up pretending to be pirates as well. They would have sword fights with sticks in the front yard of the orphanage they grew up in. They even went so far as to purchase a sailboat together when it became financially possible.

“And you, Swan? What will you be dressing as?”

“Oh, I won’t be dressing up,” she laughed.

“That’s unfortunate, because I believe you would make a lovely princess.” She blushed at his praise. It was the most beautiful thing.

Emma finished her dinosaur and it was almost a perfect match to the picture he had given her. He was bursting with pride for her.

“Well, thank you again for everything, Killian. Perhaps I’ll see you around?”

“I certainly hope so, love. You do need to return those books that I lent you eventually. But I do hope you’ll visit me at the shop before you finish them,” he said in a pleading tone. She gave him a shy smile, the blush returning.

“Goodnight, Killian,” she said picking up her pumpkin.

“Goodnight, love.” He watched her walk out the door with Mary Margaret, the brunette looking over her shoulder to flash him a conspiratorial smile. He returned it eagerly. He had a lot of work ahead of him tonight to finish his plan.

David had informed him that Emma would be finished at the station by six and picking Henry up from Elsa’s. That meant that he had until 6:15 to get everything set up. Thankfully he had David and Mary Margaret to assist him with his task. Emma’s jack-o-lantern was already out on her front porch. The sun had set by the time his surprise was complete.

__________

Emma and Henry turned the corner that led to their home and she gasped at the sight before her. She parked the car and they both rushed to get out to investigate the glowing creations. Henry was darting between each jack-o-lantern, bouncing on his feet as he observed each one. There were nine in all, each one with a carving of a different dinosaur. In the middle of the pack was the very raptor that Emma had deemed impossible for her. Henry stared at it in wonder, pointing out every detail to his mother.

“Mom, this is so cool! How did you do it?” he asked excitedly.

“I… didn’t.” She knew there was only one explanation and she actually teared up at the thought of him putting so much work into bringing her son such joy. Just then she watched as Killian, Mary Margaret and David approached them. He was dressed as a sexy version of Captain Hook. All black leather and a smattering of chest hair peeking out of his v-neck shirt and vest.

“Wow!” Henry exclaimed. “Mom, look at his costume.” Oh, she was looking alright. Probably more like leering. Henry ran up to them, nearly knocking Killian to the ground as he wrapped his hands around him in a hug. Killian returned the gesture. “Thanks for the pumpkins, Mr. Jones” He then went on to ask him questions about his costume. Emma was dumbfounded at the instant connection they seemed to share.

“Do you like it, Emma?” he asked with an almost nervous smile.

“Like it, no. Love it, absolutely.”

“Emma, I was hoping we could take Henry trick or treating with Leo. Perhaps give you two a little time alone?” Mary Margaret asked with a knowing smile. Emma agreed while gazing into Killian’s hopeful eyes. She had known this man for all of two days yet he had managed to worm his way into her heart.

After bidding the group farewell, she turned to the pirate who was grinning like a loon. She knew just what to do with that grin. Emma closed the gap between them by pulling him in for a searing kiss. He was stunned for about a half a second before returning the kiss with the same fervor. His lips were soft and rough at the same time. She licked along the seam of his delicious lips and he opened for her, groaning as he did. Emma let out a moan of her own at the taste of him. Their tongues tangled as they explored each other’s mouths. Her hands grasped the back of his head just as his ran through her hair. She knew they needed to come up for oxygen soon or they wouldn’t make it inside. She pulled away slightly as Killian chased her lips. She leaned her forehead against his, both of them breathing heavily from the impassioned embrace.

“Would you like to come in for cocoa?” she asked him once she had found her voice.

“Very much,” he answered breathlessly. “Will you go out with me Friday night? Dave offered to take Henry for the evening.”

She raised her eyes to his again. His face had grown soft and hopeful. Her answer came in the form of another kiss, this time slow and sweet.

They spent the rest of the evening talking by the fireplace, cocoa in hand. She enjoyed getting to know Killian Jones, master pumpkin carver and owner of her favorite book store.

#Captain Swan #Halloween #killian jones #emma swan

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searchingwardrobes · 6 years ago

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Desdichado: Chapter Ten

Writing this chapter was a struggle, and I had to face a fact: I can’t write Outlaw Queen! So I reached out to @snowbellewells, and she came to my rescue. The first half of this chapter is hers, and I am so thankful! She captured the style of this fic perfectly. Make sure to give her some love. The “poems” Emma reads in this chapter are actually lyrics to two Loreena McKennitt songs: “Mummer’s Dance” and her version of “Greensleeves.

Summary: Sir Killian is a noble knight known throughout the kingdom for his heroic deeds in the Crusades. However, he is nothing but the ward of Lord Stefan, which means he is forbidden to wed his childhood sweetheart, Lady Aurora. Emma Swan is the ward of Lady Regina, a former noblewoman of ill repute. They are known as merchants and healers, and sometimes rumored to be witches. Sir Phillip is a noble knight of the Templar who discovers an evil plot by his leader, Sir Baelfire. Treachery and intrigue will soon throw all of these characters together in surprising ways. (A CS AU of Ivanhoe)

Rating: T

Words: 4,000 in this chapter, so hopefully tumblr doesn’t eat the cut

You can catch up on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @mythologicalmango @teamhook @wellhellotragic @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kday426 @jennjenn615 @bethacaciakay @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs

The fire crackled like a warmly wavering beacon in the dark of the night within the forest. Though they were far off the track where her wagon had been accosted earlier that day and the crackling, popping logs and dancing flames gave off a much welcomed warmth in the chill night air, Regina found she could not get comfortable in the bedroll she had been so kindly loaned, no matter how hard she might try. True, she was a bit further off from the circle of camp nearest the blaze, bedded down with the other members of Stefan’s caravan who had been rescued by the band of forest rebels, so she could always claim she had been too chilled for comfortable slumber as her excuse.

It went deeper than that however; there was no sense denying it - at least not to herself. Her heart ached in her chest at how Emma had been taken from her and only worse and worse possibilities preyed on her mind of what the young woman she loved as a daughter might be enduring even now. Lying there, reasonably safe and warm, but unable to do anything to help her ward, was eating away at her. Finally, she sighed and flung off the blanket, getting up with a huff of frustration and moving to the small circle of men still awake around the fire.

The man who had been speaking when she approached looked up, unsurprised and at ease as she stepped from the trees into the circle of light. Regina was mildly annoyed at his calm knowing, as she generally prided herself on having a bit of the grace she had been raised with in the noble home of a lord and lady, and also some measure of stealth and subtlety from the life she had made for herself and Emma - free, but constantly on guard and on the move.

The three or four men still sitting up with him, clearly putting together some sort of battle plan for the day ahead, did look up, startled, when this ‘Hood’ motioned her forward, his tone light and even a bit taunting as he beckoned, “Come milady Regina, join us. No need to lurk in the shadows.”

Affronted, even as she had been caught out doing just that, Regina huffed and stalked forward, dropping down onto the empty log as far from this Robin of Locksley as she could possibly get. Taking the carved, wooden tankard passed her way, Regina quickly tipped it up to hide at least partially her flushed cheeks and snapping, riled eyes for a moment behind its wide base.

Unfortunately, the sharp, bitter flavor that met her taste buds did not mellow on its way down her throat, and she choked, eyes watering and coughing hard, slamming the drink back down on the log beside her. Glaring at the men gathered around the fire, as if assuming they had tried to play a trick on her, Regina spat out, “What is that?”

The near-giant man seated at Robin Hood’s right raised an arm that seemed thick as a tree branch to jab a finger at her, eyes narrowed in equal distaste. “Tis our own Friar Tuck’s best ale,” he responded heatedly. “One not quite so high and mighty could simply be grateful for drink to wet a parched throat and a safe fire to warm herself by.”

“His best?!?” Reigna spluttered indignantly, completely disregarding the aspersions cast on her character; long used to them and knowing in this case they were at least partially true. “If that’s his best, then I hope he is a better friar than he is a brewer.”

Grumbles broke out around the fire as all the men gathered now voiced their discontent and their restless agitation began to show. “How dare you!” the huge man burst out, gaze trained angrily on Regina.

But Robin’s hand raised placatingly stopped the burly man’s tirade before it could truly begin, falling silent in deference to his leader’s stoic command. “Peace, Little John,” he murmured softly, his voice firm and certain though barely raised, a voice well used to being followed absolutely, even if hardly louder than the crackling fire, the shuffling of unsettled feet, the night sounds around them, and her own breath rasping with exertion echoing in her ears.

Despite herself, Regina simply couldn’t keep her tart tongue in check; she was too off-balance, too worried, feeling much too helpless and angry at everything and everyone to think before speaking. It had earned her more than one harsh punishment from her lady mother in her childhood and adolescence, and she realized wryly that once again - despite all the years between and her drastic change in circumstances - she possessed more fire in her speech than was good for her. “Little?” she scoffed, wincing even as the word slipped off her tongue with derision. She might be rightly shaken and perturbed, but that didn’t give her the right to be hurtful. “Most who would attach such a diminutive before their names might show a bit more restraint at evening repast to be sure the term still fit.” She wanted to bit her own tongue in reprisal, but the words had already been spoken, seeming to hang almost visibly in the smoky air.

“Restraint?!?” the behemoth shot back, looking truly incensed now. “You’re one to speak of restraint, when you wage war with every word that falls from your mouth. At finally meeting the sole heir of your family’s estate, I now see why it ended with no new generation to continue - “

“Enough!” Robin’s sharp order was louder this time, cracking through the air like the whistle of an unfurled whip, harsher and more commanding than Regina had yet heard it - even when he and his men had charged into the fray along the road to battle their attackers. His eyes, which had been so warm and inviting mere minutes before, glittered dangerously as they flicked between his second-in-command and herself, brooking no further obstinance. The argument was over. “Shame on you both, fighting like this when we are on the same side. We must be united if we are to survive what faces us on the morrow. You know this,” he directed that last to his second harshly. The other man’s nod was tight with thwarted frustration, but he did not speak again.

Robin’s shoulders dropped slightly. “Go,” he told his troops still gathered around. “Get what rest you may. We will need all the strength we can muster for the battle.”

The men dispersed, melting silently back into the shadows of the trees. The leader of their outlaw band remained seated across from Regina, silent now and looking somewhat deflated, as if having to exert his authority so harshly had drained him. His head bowed the tiniest degree, and as he ran a weary hand back through his sandy hair in worried tension, Regina was flooded with regret at her outburst and her own ungratefulness. She wanted to apologize, but instead only sat silently, uncertain how to fix the mess she had helped to make, hands clasped in her lap and feeling as small and as overwhelmed as she hadn’t since the night before she left her family home long ago - saying goodbye to the place where she had grown up after one last failed plea to her parents for the right to make her own path, and steeling herself to venture into the unknown world alone.

Biting her lower lip, Regina braved another glance up at the man across from her, only to find him studying her curiously - as if she were some sort of puzzle he could solve and then come to understand. His was gaze less stormy, more quiet and contemplative when he finally spoke, “You’re worried about her, aren’t you? Your ward?” he asked finally, his voice low and steady, though sincere in its question, expressing true concern. Regina was surprised too at noticing a cultured polish to its deep tones that had escaped her notice previously and seemed incongruous with a woodland bandit.

“Emma,” Regina clarified with a nod, not really wanting to proceed, knowing that thinking of her companion, the young woman she had rarely been separated from for any length of time, would only intensify the fears for her replaying in her mind. “I realize there is nothing to be done tonight, and that it doesn’t excuse my rudeness to you or your men. My granny used to say my temper and my tongue would be a bane to me all of my days…” She shook her head ruefully at the memory that had once again proven true and paused before adding, “Be that as it may, I feel so helpless at the thought of her being hurt - or worse….” she shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself at the chill which overtook her. “She’s been with me since she was two year old. In my heart, I feel she is in part my daughter. Not going to her this instant torments me so that I want to crawl out of my own skin!” She shook her head, words running out and getting her nowhere before trailing off to sit once again staring into the fire.

Robin said nothing for some minutes, making Regina wonder if he would reply at all. When he finally got to his feet, Regina half expected him to turn and leave her to her woes, not even sure she deserved more than that from him. Still, her heart ached at the prospect of yet another man who could not handle, or did not wish to, all the impropriety, the whirling emotion, and the outspoken, nontraditional challenge she posed.

However, he wholly surprised her. Boots crunched lightly over the fallen leaves on the ground between them as the archer crossed the emptied circle toward her instead. Removing his deep green cloak from his broad shoulders, he draped it over her own shivering ones, tucking it gently under her chin and then retreating a step as if suddenly afraid that had been too much. When he dropped to sit once more, it was beside her instead, and when Regina met his gaze, it was wistful, melancholy, and seemed to have gained the understanding he had previously sought. “My wife, Marian...God rest her sweet soul...she died bringing our son Roland into this world. She was goodness, purity and light...all I needed in this world...and to think that Roland will never know her…” he shook his head, fighting to rein in the emotion that had clearly risen with his words.

Without thinking, Regina reached out a steadying hand and placed it on his knee in comfort.

“Well, to put it bluntly, I often feel that I fail him every day, simply by being all he has. And yet, I would give anything, bear anything, to insure his safety. So, I believe I know something of your fear,” he finished, giving her a grateful look before he lay his larger hand over her own where it still rested on his knee, clasping it with a gentle pressure.

Regina tried to ignore the frisson of heat that rippled up her arm at the simple contact - not only unfitting, but so unfamiliar to her that she hardly knew how to process it.

For his part, Robin looked startled as well when she blinked dazedly and once more met his eyes. He leaned forward, close enough that his warm breath brushed across her nose and cheeks and she saw the determination solidify in the his face when he made her a solemn vow. “We will find my friend, and your Emma. I swear it to you, Regina. On my honor.”

She held his faze for a breathless moment before finally whispering, “I may have only just met you, Robin of Locksley, but I believe you will.”

Her affirmation, her belief in him seemed to transform his face. The flickering light of the fire burning low captured the smile that curved his mouth upward and glanced off the laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “Yes,” she whispered again, as if cementing it in her heart for strength. “I believe you will.”

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

And so they linked their hands and danced

Round in circles and in rows

And so the journey of the night descends

When all the shades are gone

A garland gay we bring you here

And at your door we stand

It is a sprout well budded out

The work of Our Lord's hand

The Lady Swan’s voice wasn’t the soft, demure kind typical among the nobility. It was commanding and confident. Even while reading, the sound of it arrested Sir Killian. Listening to her read from the slim volume of poetry also gave him permission to study her features: her cheeks that appled when she smiled, the dimple in her chin, the dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were hidden beneath her lashes as she bent her head over the book in her lap, but he had noticed them earlier that morning on the pillow next to him. They were a glassy shade of green that he didn’t think he had ever seen before. And her hair? It was braided today, tamed in a more socially acceptable fashion, yet it still glistened like polished bronze.

We’ve been rambling all the night

And some time of this day

Now returning back again

We bring the garland gay.

She finished reading the poem and smiled as she lifted her head to meet his gaze. “Do you wish for me to read another, my liege?”

He shook his head. “No, m’lady. Courtly poetry can only entertain one for so long, even a knight.”

Killian cocked his head and studied her as she chuckled lightly, running her hand along the cover of the book in her lap as she closed it. “Although,” he continued, “I would like to hear more of you, Lady Swan.”

She shrugged as she set the book on the nightstand. “There isn’t much to tell, I’m afraid.” Her smile wavered, and it caused him to frown.

“Being abandoned is no condemnation on your character, but upon those who cast you aside.”

Emma blinked and her lips parted on a half gasp. “But how did you –“

“I know the look in your eyes for it is one I know well. It is one thing to be orphaned. It is quite another to feel you weren’t wanted.”

Emma ducked her head. “I assumed, Sir Killian, that your parents had died.”

“My mother did,” he told her softly, “I was very young, but I still remember her beauty and kindness.”

Emma’s eyes held equal measures of tenderness and sadness. “I have often chafed over not knowing why I was abandoned in the forest. I never considered the pain of having a parent’s love and then losing it.”

Killian searched her eyes intently. “One can never compare pain. It all hurts.”

Emma gave him a tremulous smile. “That is true. And at least we each found a home.”

Killian clenched his jaw and hesitated. Yet the look in the fair lady’s eyes, the clear pain of her abandonment, made him confess the truth that only two other people in the world knew.

“Lord Stefan would have people think I was taken in as family, for the sake of his precious Lady’s memory. Yet truth be told, I was technically his slave.”

If Emma had gasped in shock and disgust, he wouldn’t have blamed her. Yet she didn’t. Her brow furrowed as she searched his face.

“How can that be?”

“He . . . paid for me. Paid my father. My brother and I should have been slaves toiling on the manor, if not for Lady Rose. She loved us as sons.”

“But not Lord Stefan?”

Emma laid her hand upon the bed covers, and Killian wondered if she realized how close her fingers were to his.

“He seemed to care for us, even if he were a bit distant at times. Perhaps we reminded him of the sons Lady Rose never bore him? I know not. He . . . preferred my brother. That I am sure of.”

Emma leaned forward, a crooked smile upon her lips. “And what makes you believe so?”

Killian smiled in return, “Everyone idolized Liam. He was so good and noble and charitable. Though I lost him, he is still my plumb line. Yet it seems so unattainable. He set the bar so high, how could I ever reach it?”

Emma grasped his hand. “How can you say that? Tales of your heroics in the Crusades have preceded you home. You, Sir Killian, have many marks in the hero column. Don’t think so lowly of yourself.”

Killian had the urge to link their fingers, but hesitated, choosing instead to run his thumb over Emma’s knuckles.

“I am flattered m’lady, but it is bad form to speak only of myself. What of your beginnings?”

Emma’s eyes grew distant as she began to speak. “Living with Lady Regina is all I have ever known. I was but a babe when I came to be in her home.”

“But she has always been good to you?”

“Aye, she has. Like I told you before, she educated me, taught me to fight and take care of myself. This is a cruel world for my sex, and Lady Regina always taught me that I can’t rely on a man to rescue me. She tilted her chin up. “The only one who saves me is me.”

Killian grinned. “So I’ve noticed.”

“I know that Regina is . . . unorthodox in her lifestyle. Combine that with my lack of proper lineage, and the hopes for me to marry are slim. Perhaps it seems lonely, but being an unmarried healer is the best future for me.”

“You are a woman of such fire and passion,” Killian said softly, his voice dropping low, “it is a shame for you to choose such a life.”

Emma’s eyes seemed a shade darker as she locked her gaze on his. For a moment, it was as if an invisible thread were drawing them closer. Killian turned his hand palm up and threaded his fingers with hers. Emma looked down at their joined hands, swallowing hard. Before she could pull her hand free or form a coherent sentence to break their sudden connection, the door to their chambers burst open. The sound sent Emma shooting to her feet, her face burning as if she’d been caught at something scandalous.

Her blush quickly turned to a pallor as cold dread washed over her. The man before her was dressed regally, cruel power emanating from his features. When he saw her, that power softened to barely contained rage.

“You’re not Lady Aurora,” he seethed with an icy tone.

Emma swallowed down her fear. She curtsied quickly and forced a demure voice. “No, your highness, I am Emma Swan, a humble healer.”

“Then why,” Prince James hissed as he strode across the room,” are you wearing her noble garments?”

He grasped Emma’s chin in his hands, his fingers digging into her cheeks.

“There is no need to lay a hand upon a lady,” Killian cried out, struggling to rise from his bed.

Prince James released Emma roughly, causing her to stumble into the chest of drawers behind her. Killian lurched forward, throwing himself between Emma and the Prince. The royal laughed cruelly as Killian stumbled and fell at the Prince’s feet. Emma sank to her knees next to Killian and helped him to a seated position.

“Lady Aurora does not wish to be your bride,” Emma yelled, not caring in the least about her lowly station, “so I helped her escape. She is far from your clutches by now, praise the Lord above.”

Prince James’s rage was clearly evident on his face. Killian held his breath, praying fervently as he never had before. The Prince’s hand went to the hilt of his sword, and Killian knew nothing was stopping him from running them both through. Killian had never wanted his own sword so desperately.

Prince James’s eyes narrowed, dark with loathing, but then he loosened his grip on his sword. His expression turned to one of scoffing.

“I will dispose of you, Sir Killian . . . eventually. But for now, you are my bait. Common peasants you both may be, but your sentimental households will still no doubt come to your rescue.”

He sneered before kicking Killian in the side. Killian cried out in pain, which only motivated Prince James to kick him again.

“Stop! Stop!” Emma sobbed, flinging herself across Killian’s torso to block the blows.

Prince James laughed sadistically then grabbed Emma by her hair. She screamed as he hauled her to her feet.

“And you,” he spat in her face, “Sir Baelfire wants to wed you for some bizarre reason, so for his sake, I’ll let you live.” He ran a finger down the side of Emma’s face, and she shuddered at his touch. “I don’t know why he didn’t just take you when he had the chance.”

Killian roared at his base words and managed to leap to his feet in his rage. He launched himself at Prince James, but the royal merely laughed again as he shoved the knight easily away from him, flinging him into Emma. They both fell into a heap upon the floor, and Prince James spat upon them both.

“Enough of this,” he snarled, “I have a castle to fortify.”

The Prince strode then from the chamber, slamming the heavy oak door behind him. Emma shifted, cradling Killian’s head in her lap as he groaned in pain. She ran her fingers through his hair, shaking her head at his foolishness.

“What were you thinking, trying to attack him in your state?”

“I am a knight,” Killian groaned, “I can’t abide a man accosting a lady. I took the vow of chivalry.”

“Well, chivalry is all well and good until it gets you killed,” she quipped as she ran her hands along his torso. He cried out loudly as she touched one tender spot. “Your stab wound didn’t reopen, thank God above, but his kicks cracked your ribs all over again,” she fussed over him, “when they had just healed.”

“That explains why it hurts when I laugh.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “And whatever do you have to laugh about in our current predicament?”

“I always laugh when an enemy underestimates his foe.”

Emma helped him roll to his feet, then draped his arm over her shoulder as she helped him back to the bed. “You are brave, Sir Killian,” she grunted as she deposited him on the feather mattress, “but you are also far too cocky.”

He grinned up at her as she tucked the coverlet around him. “I wasn’t talking about me.”

Emma blushed as she turned to resume her seat beside the bed. To cover the way his praise flustered her, she retrieved the book of poetry and cleared her throat as she opened it.

“I think poetry is needed to calm our humors, don’t you agree?”

“Your voice will soothe every pain,” Killian told her with a clear note of flirtation in his voice.

That infernal blush rose to her cheeks once again as she began to read.

Alas my love you do me wrong

To cast me off discourteously;

And I have loved you oh so long

Delighting in your company.

Greensleeves was my delight,

Greensleeves my heart of gold

Greensleeves was my heart of joy

And who but my lady Greensleeves.

#cs ff #historical au #desdichado #starts out sleeping captain #captain swan is endgame #medieval au #killian as a knight #Ivanhoe au

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acabloe · 7 years ago

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Soon Goodbye, Now Love: Chapter Three

chapter one

chapter two

tw’s: cursing, religion? kinda? depression, anxiety

still based on this song lol

a/n: psa I have done surprisingly little planning for this fic beyond the synopsis and basic plot-point interactions and ending so if you have some specific fluffy (or non winky face ((JUST KiDDING ⁱˢᴴʰ))) moments in mind for future chapters, my inbox is SO open and welcome also this will pick up pace after this chapter I promise, I just really needed to set up enough emotional stuff to make ur eyes wet later. ok das all read it n sheep.

Chapter Three: Draw the Oceans

Chloe stopped in her tracks and stepped backwards at the sight of such distress on the girl’s face.

“Oh my God, I’m totally invading your privacy! I’m so sorry, I’ll leave you alone.” The girl had stopped as well and after a second of Chloe standing back with her hand over her mouth she reached forward and touched her back gently. Hoping she could add at least a small amount of positive energy into the situation, she quickly added “...Although, um, don’t take this the wrong way, but I can also stay with you if you just need to vent to someone who isn’t gonna judge you and who you’ll probably never see again- if thats what you need. Just let me know okay? It’s kind of my thing to go out of my way to make people feel better.” She smiled and made the kind of eye contact that she hoped would give off the most telepathically generous vibes.

The girl stared at Chloe, taken aback but still in consideration. A small split in the cover overhead had opened up briefly to illuminate the pair of them and Chloe saw her face for the first time. Her lips were sucked in and her eyes spilled shimmering streams down her cheeks . “I’m fine. Really. Thank you. I um...It’s...it’s complicated. It’s Really complicated.” Her voice broke on the word ‘really’ and her quaking hands passed to her face to rub at her eyes. Chloe begrudgingly let her do this contrary to her instincts of taking the girl’s wrists away and hugging her- she didn’t want to violate this stranger’s privacy more than she already had. She waited patiently for the girl to think about the situation while she kept her hand on her shoulder to stabilize her.

Beca’s stomach churned and she chewed her lip as she weighed her options. The three best responses that sprung to mind were not the most reliable ideas she’d ever had, but they would be better in the long run than simply to lay on the ground and give in to a breakdown. Firstly, she could reject Chloe’s help and give no explanation for her current state, but ask her to keep walking with her ‘for comfort’ to hopefully form some kind of closer connection which she would use later to see her again. Secondly, she could, as fast as possible, concoct a story similar to the truth but somehow without mentioning the factors of reincarnation, the confirmation of some kind of legitimate higher power’s existence (or at least a medium power), that Chloe was supposed to die almost two years ago, and the matter that Beca was a fucking guardian angel. Or thirdly she could just tell Chloe the truth. The last one was, she admitted, both the worst idea and the most tempting one. No. She doesn’t know you, remember, she’s going to think you're high or something. (her brain did feel very unprepared for this sudden mental gymnastics, she thought.) Her heart physically ached with want to hold Chloe tightly and sob into her shoulder about how she thought she’d never see her again and how exhausted and lonely she felt. She sighed heavily and tried her best to smile without letting her emotions contort her face (harder than she expected) and prepared herself to express the second biggest lie she had ever told to her best friend.

“Thank you. I really appreciate that. Let’s keep walking...um, I’ll try not to bore you too much.”

“No, no, please! Onward!”

Beca frowned as the comforting warmth in her shoulder from Chloe’s hand left her shoulder blade.

“Well...basically, a few years ago I had this friend. We...cared about each other a lot. We’d been really close since high school and we’d gone through some really tough shit together. She was there for me and I did my best to do the same. We were kinda like each other’s moms in a sense.” Beca chuckled softly. “Then about a year and a half ago...she...my friend was in an accident. She was hit on the highway by a drunk driver and she wasn’t found till a few hours after. When she was, they did their best but...um...she didn’t make it.” Beca paused, to both protect herself from crying again and also to stall for a second to think about what could possibly replace the concept of swapping places with the dying girl you love and returning to earth a guardian angel.

“I was um...My mental health plummeted and I was in a really bad place for a very long time...I developed a bad drug and alcohol problem. I did some horrid, inexcusable things to a lot of people I cared very deeply for, which left me basically without my friends and family...But starting two months ago, I decided to get better for her. I’ve been sober for um...a few months. I was in rehab in Massachusetts up until a few days ago and I came back to New York for the first time in over a year today...honestly, I don’t know why. Closure? A message from her?! Maybe I needed to see you- her. Sorry, I’m just really disoriented. This is the first time I’ve been in the neighborhood where we used to live since...” Her tears were back, this time as equally fake as they were real. “I reached out to a few friends but no one will talk to me. I’m just filled with so much remorse. Like, immeasurable guilt. You have no idea. Fuck, I don’t even have a place to stay, I’ve only been here a few hours.” She hunched her back and hid her face in her hands taking deep shaky breaths. She did pride herself on her woven web, however, especially the bit about her friends.

Chloe had been quiet and patient with Beca through her whole story and finally when Beca had made it clear she had finished Chloe placed her hand on her shoulder again. She then spoke such soft and warm words that made Beca’s stomach tighten even further with emotion and nerves.

“Wow. I am so sorry. You’ve gone through so much, I really appreciate you sharing your story with me. You are such a strong human being and...I really admire how far you’ve come after everything you went through. Can I...Do you want a hug? I don’t want to invade your personal space.” Chloe’s voice grew somehow even kinder as she said those last few words and Beca nodded, not wanting to seem too eager.

Chloe enveloped Beca in her arms and tightly held her to her chest as Beca’s sobs became involuntary and incessant. She had not felt so many emotions at once since...well, since as long as she could remember. Her knees were week and she almost clung to Chloe to stay upright. Chloe rubbed slow circles on her back and murmured comforting words to her.

“Shh. It’s okay, everything’s gonna be fine. You’re okay.”

Her familiar soft and sweet scent was painful with lost memories and Beca fit just so in Chloe’s arms as if Chloe had retained the experience of hugging her even through Chloe’s memory-obliteration.

Finally after three or four minutes, Beca’s sobs became sniffs and she staggered gingerly away from her, afraid of making Chloe uncomfortable.

Chloe had such a curiously strong impulse to take this stranger in and help her restart her life and make amends with her friends. She knew how potentially dangerous it would be to let someone she had only spoken to for about fifteen minutes into her home but the girl’s story was pretty believable and she had a lot of spare time. The nearest police station was less than a four minute walk away from her home and she was confident that she was safe and unafraid to call if anything happened. She was surprised at herself for how much pity she harbored for this girl, but for some reason her tale struck an empathetic chord that Chloe had not heard before and was unaware had even existed. As their embrace broke, her impulsive thoughts got the better of her and she acted quickly as to not change her mind or overthink.

“Okay, you know what, hear me through. How would you feel if you came back to my house and you can sleep on my couch for the night? I have to stay up anyways. I can drive you in to the city on my way to work tomorrow and you can look at places to stay or job ops, if thats what you need. I have a friend at a café that could use an extra hand! Do you have anyone in New York you can talk to or trust?”

Even though it was still dark out, Chloe could tell the girl was stunned by her sudden advance.

“I...uh...thank you, that’s really generous of you. I...guess? Wow, I feel like such a creep right now, I promise I’m telling the truth. If that’s really okay with you, I would so appreciate the help. Also, no I don’t think so. I mean, there might be someone, but I’m gonna need a couple days to figure out how to even get in touch with her.” She combed her hands through her knotted hair in a fluster.

“Yeah dude of course! Here, come with me. Do you have any bags or anything?”

“Um, no. Most of my stuff is in a storage unit in town. I didn’t really bring anything with me when I left. Thank you so much, I don't think I’ll ever be able to repay you.” Chloe found that odd and questions of how the girl had even come from New York without possessions filled her mind but she pushed them aside.

Half an hour later of Chloe walking the weak girl back to her house in a comfortable silence (Chloe wanted to overwhelm her as little as possible with questions or conversation in her fragile state), they came through the door and she went to the tap to get the girl some water. When she checked the little yellow clock above her sink she was surprised to see that she’d been out for almost two hours and it was nearly 1:00 in the morning. The lights were dim coming from her living room but just bright enough for her to finally see what the girl looked like as she handed her the glass. She was small and frail with long, mousy brown hair and deep set blue eyes that were again cascading tears down pale blanched cheeks. Her minimal tank top and sweatpants were a little grassy but otherwise free of stain or dirt, Chloe supposed she had sat or perhaps lain in the field earlier. When she looked down, Chloe realized the girl’s feet were bare and bruised but said nothing.

“Drink all of that. The bathroom and shower is just through that door behind you. I’m going to run upstairs get you some spare clothes, and sheets for the couch, will you be alright down here?” The girl gave a small nod as she chugged down the water with huge gulps.

Beca shut the bathroom door behind her and immediately slid to the floor, breathing rapidly with her hand over her mouth to stifle her sobs.

The house was exactly as she had left it. All her belongings were gone, but most everything else was the same. Same couch, same photographs covering the stairwell, the same colored walls. Even the odd yellow clock Aubrey had bought them as a housewarming gift was still in the kitchen. She managed to push herself upright and turned on the faucet to the temperature she had grown so familiar using. She leant over the sink and forced herself to breathe evenly as steam rose to the ceiling and filled her lungs.

She was here though and everything was going to smoothly. Everything that she had planned (or rather hoped without depth or consideration) was happening! She was home with Chloe and Chloe was taking care of her! She felt the corners of her mouth twitch as her thoughts grew more hopeful.

An instantly recognizable sensation reached her fingertips and she was no-longer concentrating on her good fortune. Her palms grew hot and it quickly spread to her wrists. Shit.

Her hands were glowing bright white and her veins were accentuated by visible electric currents racing down her arms under her skin. This isn’t supposed to happen, you’re not supposed to glow on earth, it’s literally impossible. Her heart beat faster. This was a regular behavior in the Higher City. It was completely random with no rhyme or reason and it was also another phenomenon that the head-angels refused to digress. But they had strictly told everyone that it wasn’t supposed to happen after they had left to earth. It’s gotta be a glitch or a kink in the system when I changed my fucking assignment. You bitch! Beca Mitchel, you have fucked up so royally. The light had spread down almost the entire length of her arms and she felt her knees grow hot as it climbed up her legs as well. She threw off her clothes and rushed to the shower, desperate that the water could somehow stifle the course of electricity running through her bloodstream. It did nothing but scald her skin and she yelped in shock.

five or six seconds later a knock came to the door which startled Beca to jump.

“Everything okay in there?”

“Yeah, um, I turned it too hot haha,” She laughed nervously.

“Okay, I’ll leave these clothes by the door. There’s fresh towels under the sink.”

“Great, thank you!” She groaned quietly in frustration, but when she looked back down to her hands, they were back to her own pale skin. She sighed heavily in relief. Usually it lasted longer; around five to ten minutes, but she guessed because it was only a glitch it would affect her to a much lesser extent.

Twenty minutes later she sat on her made-up bed in Chloe’s pajamas waiting for Chloe to bring her tea she hadn’t asked for. She had been considering maybe telling Chloe the truth after all. The level of gullibility involved with people she cared about was something that the two of them had been working to correct before everything was shoved at them left and right. Beca had begun to worry that one day in the future she would not be immediately accessible to force Chloe to see every angle of the situation and to hold herself over others when the circumstances required. A significantly large piece of Beca’s mind suggested that Chloe would swallow the whole story with complete belief and acceptance. However Beca had not seen her in so long and she had romanticized their friendship so laboriously during their time apart. There was a chance that the more stripped down version of Chloe that Beca remembered was not as surface-level innocent and credulous as was reality. There was too much of a risk that Beca’s tale would turn her out onto the streets and she would definitely never see Chloe again after that. She was woken from her musings by a warm mug of lavender-smelling steam being gently placed between her palms.

“Here you are! It’s hot, careful. So, I’m leaving around 8:00 tomorrow and I’ll drop you off wherever you need to be?”

“Um, yeah that would be great. Thank you so much for all of this. You have no idea how much it means to me.” No really, she had No. Idea.

“Yeah, no worries! I totally got your back! Um, I’ll just be right here in the kitchen finishing up some work. If you need anything just holler.” Chloe patted Bec’s leg affectionately and stood, still facing Beca. Her eyes suddenly somehow grew wider than her already enormous size and she exclaimed. “Wait, oh my God! I’m such an awful person! I don’t even know your name! And you don’t know mine! What the hell is your name, dude?” Beca laughed and looked down sheepishly.

“It’s Beca. Mitchel.”

“Well, nice to meet you Beca, my name is Chloe. I think we’re gonna be really fast friends.”

A/N: Hey friends just wanna say thank u sm for all these positive responses I’m really enjoying this process n it’s my first proper fic since my 2014 doctor who days. if you can’t tell I've been trying really hard to write different pov’s in styles closer to how I think the characters think idk we’ll see how it goes ::,,))) ps. if someone wants to make me a fic cover I will love you forever and ever I would do it myself but I can’t edit for S H I T :// woohoo what a ride this is gonna be I really hope y’all keep reading !!

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