#Bellana ask

[rue-dixon]

Work first

Chilchuck and Dandan talk about his failed marriage

And Dandan is his brother-in-law because that is canon to me

Chilchuck sat at the bar at one of the taverns on the island. He was on his third mug of ale, holding his head as he stared into his half-empty cup. Dandan, who was his best friend and just also happened to be his brother-in-law, sat next to him. Dandan was the only family he still talked to. His daughters all moved out barely sent letters anymore. As for his wife, she left without a word around two years ago.

"There's nothing really for me to do anymore. All I do is work, I can't handle going home to a dark and empty house anymore." Chilchuck sighed, his shoulders slumped as he ran a hand through his hair.

"I would say retire but I can't see you not working." Dandan half-joked.

Chilchuck took another swing of his drink, groaning to himself, “Yeah, I’ve thought about it… I'm saving up, I'll retire from adventuring. But I still need to bring money in somehow. Thinking about a locksmith shop closer to the girls."

"Don't you still send them all money?" Dandan took a sip from his drink as well.

Chilchuck nodded, "yeah. A little bit each month. Just to give them something as they're starting out in life."

"And what about Bel...?" Dandan didn't look at him, hesitantly asking about his sister. Chilchuck didn't bring his wife up that much after she left. However, Dandan knew the no contact was killing him. From the letters he had been receiving from his sister, he could tell it was slowly killing her as well.

Chilchuck tensed at the mention of her name, “…No. Ever since she left, I’ve never heard anything from her. So I figured she wouldn't want me to send anything..."

Dandan sighed, "And you still haven't gone to see her? It's been two years."

"You think if she wanted me to see her she would've told me where she went. But no, I had to find out from Fler." Chilchuck scoffs, taking another drink.

When Bellana first left, she stayed with Dandan and his wife for a few days before moving in with Flertom. Dandan remembered offering his home to her. Remembering the night she came to talk, only to cry in his arms about no longer being happy. He remembered holding her. Taking her by the shoulders and telling her it was time for her to put herself first. No longer living for her children and husband, but for herself. Putting her own happiness first.

Dandan wouldn't lie, he had felt guilty watching how miserable Chilchuck had become after convincing his sister to leave. He kept reminding himself, he was her brother first, Chilchuck's best friend second.

"I see your point." He sighed, "But you're so miserable it's hard to watch. Whether you admit it or not, you're lonely."

Chilchuck didn't respond, just grumbled something to himself before chugging the rest of his drink, slamming the empty cup back on the counter. Dandan couldn't hide the sympathetic look that came across his face. Despite not being the most observant person, even he could see how much Chilchuck missed having his family when he returned from jobs. There was a reason he seemed to spend all his time at the guild instead of his own home nowadays.

"... what if you start dating again?" Dandan offered hesitantly.

Chilchuck nearly choked on air, "What-?!" He looked over at him.

"Well, If you're so sure it's over. And refuse to go talk to her, why not get back out there? You're still young enough."

Chilchuck looked at his in-law like he was crazy. "Hell no."

Dandan rolled his eyes as he turned back to his own drink, "of course. You still probably avoid your eyes when you walk past the brothel stand in the dungeon, huh?"

Red bloomed over Chilchuck's cheeks that traveled to his ears as he scoffed and looked away.

"Wh- no! I don't.. well that's because-" he fumbled over his words.

It was true, he had been doing that since he came to the island. When he was younger and newly married he felt incredibly guilty that the pretty blonde women would catch his eyes as his wife was home nursing his two young daughters. Because of this, he started to shield his eyes as he walked by. Soon it became a habit, and he hasn't stopped since. Even after she left, he couldn't help it. It still felt wrong. Although he couldn't deny their appeal was getting to him as of recently. Sexual frustration no doubt adding to his permanent bad mood.

"It's just..." his voice softer this time. "What if she comes back...?"

Dandan seemed surprised, "you think she will?"

"I don't know... part of me hopes she does, but another part of me is still so.. angry with her."

Another reason that he didn't admit out loud as to why he didn't go after her was because of his pride and anger. Going after her first could possibly prove whatever she was testing. Losing whatever stupid game she was possibly playing. This was completely ridiculous, of course. However, his anger and pride blinded him from logic.

"What if she's waiting for you to come to her first?"

Although Dandan was keeping in good contact with his sister. The truth was, he himself had no idea what his sister wanted. Whether she never wanted to see Chilchuck again, just wanted a break- that was now stretching out way too long, wanted to come back, for Chilchuck to come to her, or some other option, he had no idea. All she talked about in her letters was her girls and asking how his wife and new baby were.

"And what if she's not, and I just end up making a fool of myself?"

"...Fair enough."

It was silent between the two men for a moment before Chilchuck spoke up again.

"Even if there was a real divorce, we sat down agreed and went our separate ways forever. I doubt I'd ever move on."

Dandan turned to him again to show he was listening. While Chilchuck stared down his empty cup. The alcohol in his system making him more open than usual.

"We've been together since we were kids. She was my first everything, the mother of my children, she's- she was, my best friend."

He clutched his hands together to stop them from shaking.

"Besides, who says I wouldn't fuck up a new relationship too?"

Dandan didn't respond. How was he supposed to? That Chilchuck was wrong and just being insecure? That wouldn't help anyone, especially since his concerns were valid.

"Either way, I'm focusing on my retirement. Save enough money, and open the locksmith shop. That way I can quit the dungeon work but I can still support my girls if they need it. And they all have something when I die."

Dandan nodded, "Why don't you try to talk to them more if they're your main motivation?"

Chilchuck looked guilty, he had been meaning to write to them. Every time he picked up a pen he never knew what to say. Just stared at the empty piece of paper until he eventually put the pen down. Part of him felt like they didn't want to hear from him. The last thing he wanted was to bother them. He barely kept in touch with his own mother when he moved away from his hometown, it would be hypocritical to expect them to keep in touch with him.

"I-I will.. just- they're not little girls anymore, y'know? Work first. Then I can travel and actually see what they're up to instead of just sending pointless letters." Chilchuck nodded firmly. As if he was trying to convince himself more than Dandan.

Dandan sighed deeply, his whole body slumping into the stole as he brushed his dark curls with his fingers. He was getting nowhere with him. Frankly he didn't feel like trying anymore. Especially now that he had his own wife and child to think about.

"Alright man, whatever works for you."

[books-of-the-great-leviathan]

Chapter 31- Alois

***

Alois picked himself up and dusted grime from the front of his shirt. He'd fallen, and stayed there for long minutes, after they'd at last stopped running. His legs hadn't wanted to keep holding the rest of him up, so he'd let them do as they pleased, and what pleased them to do was send him to the ground.

"Huh," he panted. "Guess you were right, Elias. Isabella- your Highness-" He turned, and his words died. Isabella was on her knees, and she was weeping. Her hair was tangled with sweat, her skin weltered by red marks in the shape of handprints. Both her hands were over her eyes- the flesh one, and the one that had turned partially to black crystal. She wept not like Elias had wept, but inwardly, silent sobs wracking her body and filling the cavern with choked echoes. Elias hung back- at last he looked his age, an uncertain, nervous boy scrubbing at his curls with his fingers- but Alois knelt by her and touched her shoulder. A soldier would have snapped at her to get up. A king would have commanded her to straighten her spine, to not shame herself. But he wasn't a king.

"Isabella," he said.

"He had her," she said, her voice ground between clenched teeth. A fresh wave of sobs choked her, and she curled over, rocking back and forth. "He...he had my mother's ghost. He had so many of them. Trapped. My people, trapped."

"He's witchborn," Alois said. The word sent a shudder through him. He hadn't seen the assassin, Sirin, until Luca sprang her from her cell, and then she'd looked like a dirty young woman, nothing to mark her fell power. To command the dead, to use them against the living, tethered to a soul...he couldn't fathom. His mind reeled, failed, scrambled for scraps of sense. "What else did he say?"

"He intends Lapide's destruction," Isabella said. She lifted her head. Tears glittered on her cheeks. A purpling bruise spread across one cheekbone. "And Estara's. He's heir to both of them. He's your father's half-brother, Alois. And my aunt's son. Your grandfather...my aunt. Some mad affair. And now he wants his vengeance against us all."

Bellana save us. "He won't stay in Lapide," Alois murmured. "Not now you've found out the truth. He's hamstrung it already, killing your mother. Now..."

"Triune," Isabella whispered.

Alois understood, too. Enzo Acier had killed one country's regent. Estara's was next. Daval was next.

His father was next.

Cold plunged into his guts. Let him die, he wanted to spit. How many times had he wanted to see his father lain low, how many times had he dreamed of crushing him into the dirt? How many more had he groveled at his father's feet, begging him to love him, to forgive him for his host of disappointments? Let him be torn apart. Let the sea-orks devour him whole.

But there was another way. Peace, like an ember in these dark seas.

"If we can warn him," Alois said, "get to him before Acier does, then maybe..." Friendship, armistice. Not yet. But the beginnings of peace, of reparations between their two countries. Trust, at least. There would be nothing without trust.

"Would he listen?" Isabella asked.

"He might," Alois said, sounding more confident about the matter than he felt. He had to have faith in his father that he wasn't blood-mad, war-mad, not entirely. That there was still something in him that yearned for calm seas and clear skies.

That he could be saved, too.

Isabella gave a short nod. "Then we don't have much time."

She got to her feet. Her shadow rose with her, fluttering across the cavern walls in the fading light of the alchemic command. They'd run- through a tangled web of tunnels, leading down, down, closer to the roar of water, then away again. Some were man-made, walls whitebrick, arched doorways and carved steps. Most were natural, wending this way and that, deeper into the earth. Water wept through these walls, slicking them with prismatic sheen of phosphorescent fungus, turning the stalactite teeth of them into glowing pillars hanging far overhead. The caverns swelled like the diseased organs of some great pale beast, rivulets of water trickling through cracks in the stone, the occasional roar of a subterranean canal vibrating through a wall, inches away. One day, it might split, and fill these caverns with water; they'd belong to no one but the cave fish, then.

"Which way?" Alois asked. His voice whispered back to him- which way, which way. Several tunnels led off from their cavern, which they'd stopped in to catch their breath, for Alois to collapse in and gulp mouthfuls of cave water to wash the bitter taste of ghosts from his throat.

"There are ways out of these tunnels," Isabella said. She brushed past him, clutching her crystal arm. "Luca and I...we explored this place as children. I don't know the tunnels as well as he does, but I think I can get us out of here."

"Someone's coming," Elias said.

Alois held his breath. Isabella raised her head, her aquiline profile sharp as a hawk's against the pale cavern walls. Alois clapped his hand over the alchemic command, dousing its light. Voices echoed from the tunnels behind them.

"Falcii," Isabella whispered.

"This way." Alois nodded toward the nearest tunnel.

Voices came again, louder, closer. Isabella didn't argue. She plunged in, a step ahead of Alois, her hand clenched on her sword hilt. Alois glanced at Elias, and together they hurried after her, Elias hunched over and hugging his arms over his chest.

Tunnels, stone walls, weeping water. The sunlight ebbed moment by moment, each pulse weakening in Alois's hand. He cupped it to his chest. What would happen when the light gave out entirely, when the darkness crashed in? He couldn't imagine a worse place to be lost in- stumbling through the dark, feeling his way by touch, not knowing if the next step would be on solid ground or send him plunging into a sinkhole, to be picked apart by cave-dwelling horrors.

That will be you, he told himself, and shame gripped his heart. Some day your sight will die, like the light, and you'll be left to wander the dark forever.

Voices again.

"This way!"

"Sir, there are footprints..."

"They're not far."

Isabella twisted round, then motioned Alois toward a narrow gap in the cave wall. Through it, Alois heard the roar of water. Icy spray spackled his face as he turned sideways and squeezed through. Stone scraped his shoulderblades; his breathing caught. One shift in the cave system and the two walls would crush him between them. Trapped. He scrambled faster, and stumbled out the other side, slipping down an incline of loose stones. Sunlight skittered over water: a broad river, some twenty feet wide and white with rapids.

Spume rose from the black surface of the water like mist, feeding the pale, finger-like growths of glowing fungus clustering thickly over the rocks that broke the river's surface. Enormous ridged tubes grew at the water's edge. Great fans covered in fine cilia blossomed from their upper ends, waving gently in the breeze off the river.

"There they are!"

"After them!"

Isabella burst through the gap in the wall, then Elias. He barely had to turn sideways, he was so skinny. Lanternlight chased them, and the scrape of drawn swords. Isabella bolted toward the river, then skidded to a halt, her eyes wide.

"Go," Alois yelled.

"Is anyone bleeding?" Isabella demanded.

"You are," Elias pointed out.

She snarled, shook her head. "Stay close. Close, I said."

Alois plunged into the river. The cold sucked all feeling from his legs. The tube-things sucked in their feeding fans as he brushed past them, sloshing knee deep into the river. He heard the others follow.

"Stop!"

He looked back. Falcii spilled onto the riverbank, blue and flashing silver and drawn blades. "Stop! Now!" roared their leader, and motioned. A gunshot split the silence; the river burst at Alois's feet, and he jerked back. The opposite bank wavered, so close.

"Come back, Highness," the Falcii called. "Captain Acier is prepared to grant you mercy."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you," Alois yelled.

"Mercy?" Isabella called. She backed away, toward the center of the river. The water rose to her hips. She lowered her hand into the water; blood unspooled. "And you believe your captain, do you? You believe his every word?"

Falcii stepped into the river. Alois heard it: subsonic, a bass shudder like a tapped drumhead. The river vibrated. He cast a glance downstream, where the water widened into a still pool, stalagmites jutting from its surface like a mouthful of cuspid teeth. In its center: a ripple, no more than gust of wind over its surface.

"Isabella," he said.

"Captain Acier saw what you did," the Falcii called. One of his men, standing knee deep, narrowed his eyes, looking down at the water.

"Believe what you will. I can't stop you," Isabella called. "But I promise you I'm not to blame. And I promise you I'm coming back. Lapide will never be abandoned, not while I still breathe."

"Sir," the Falcii in the water cut in.

"What are you doing? Get after her."

"Sir! Something's in the water!"

A shadow hurtled underwater, toward Alois, toward Elias and Isabella. Water surged, a glassy swell. Alois caught a glimpse of a pale, spiked carapace before the swell broke and the monster exploded from the water. A hooked mass of chitinous forelimbs, hooked claws and gripping mandibles burst toward them, mouthparts glistening dark gray, splayed wide. Alois yelled and threw himself backward. He fell, hard, going under; the cold closed over his head. He thrashed, panicked, clawing to the surface, eyes wide, nerves shrieking with cold.

More of the things dragged themselves from the deeps, one after the next. A half-dozen, more- the water thrashed and boiled with jointed crustacean limbs, eyeless things with mouthparts wide and starving, rising from the river. Falcii twisted, slashing with blade and dagger, taking aim. Gunfire lit the cavern like day, blasting craters in the cave-beasts' carapaces, sending chunks spinning into the current. Thin bluish blood spattered; Alois jerked back from the spray.

One of the creatures broke off from the pack and surged toward Elias, swimming-paddles pushing it sleekly through the current; mouthparts slithered, claws snapping for the boy. He was stiff, rigid, unmoving.

"Elias!" Alois lunged for the boy. No time; the monster would reach him faster. Alois spun toward the creature and slammed his boot straight into its mass of mouthparts. They latched on, and the creature reared back, yanking Alois off his feet.

He went down; the river sucked him under, swallowing him whole. All sound cut to a muffled roar. He felt the pressure of the thing's mouthparts around his ankle, the current sweeping past him, flashes of blurred light and the report of gunshots from somewhere above. He brought back his free leg and kicked the thing, hard, where he thought its head might be. Its shriek stabbed through him, all the worse for its hold on him.

It didn't let go.

No-

He kicked again, panic surging. He twisted; his head broke surface, and he raked in a starving breath. He didn't want to die down here.

He wouldn't die down here.

Steel flashed down, impaling the beast through the joint between head and carapace. The monster let go. A hand seized Alois's collar and dragged him to the surface. The current was already carrying the dead cave-beast away, and Isabella had him. She flung him past her, toward the opposite bank. Her sword was slicked blue with monster blood.

"I told you to stay close," she said.

Behind them, the river thrashed with pale carapaces, with the cries and commands of Falcii, with the rattle of gunfire. It chased them from the water, deeper into the tunnels. Alois squeezed his eyes shut until the sounds faded, lost to the dark.

The last light of sunset filled the sky when they emerged from the tunnels. The rocks were blue with dusk, the tunnel exit a narrow cleft in the ridge, spitting them onto a cascade of loose stones and scrub that led down toward the thundering surface of one of Valeris's many canals. Trails switchbacked down to a border of cedars and wild growth in the ridge's lee face. Past the cedars, the great pale boulders rising like sea-beasts from the scrub, Valeris glittered, caught under the haze of summer heat that shimmered off its roofs.

Alois wanted to stop, to stare, to stand forever in this warm, clean wind and watch the city. Birds of prey circled lazily on the updrafts, graceful as dance. Somewhere down there he heard the slow ringing of a chapel bell, saw the thread-thin unspooling of smoke as people lit cooking fires. After the darkness of the tunnels, he wanted to drink in the sight, to seal it inside him. Maybe he could convince his father things like this were worth saving, were worth fighting for. Were worth giving up fighting for.

"Come on," Isabella said at last. She jerked her head downslope. "We can't stay in the open for long."

Alois and Elias and Isabella stumbled down the trails. Cedars enfolded them, trunks like pillars: the sweet-sap wood scent of them, and of loam, and clean water. A small rill burbled through the needle litter, and night birds had begun to sing, filling the air with the hish-hish of their calls. Isabella sank to the streambank to scrub water through her hair. Elias simply climbed a boulder, standing in a lingering shaft of sunlight to watch the birds flit and flicker through the cedars.

Alois leaned against a trunk, head tipped back, and closed his eyes. In his hand, still cupped to his heart, he felt the pulse of the command like a dying bird.

He thought again of Cereza, worlds from here. She'd showed him the birds in the Palace gardens, and had names for each of them- glimmits, and starmice, and ember thrushes with glowing orange throats. Little yellow veterai, whose feathers could be ground and eaten to make the voice of the eater sweet as birdsong for a time. The war had not taken her wonder from her, nor her mercy. He hoped it hadn't taken all of his, either.

"We need a ship," he said, at last, after minutes of water-rush, of wind and birds and gloaming sky. "Where can we get a ship?"

Silence. He opened his eyes as Isabella stood. Her gray gaze was steely, her hair hanging in wet ropes around her face. Welts dappled her throat, hand prints encircling it like a collar. "I know where we can get a ship. That's the least of our worries."

"And the worst of our worries?"

"Getting across Bellana's Arm, for one," she said. "Outstripping Enzo, for another. He'll have already left."

"Then what are we doing here? We're wasting time-"

"No," Isabella said. "We'll just rush straight into your father's naval blockade. We need to slip through. Like a dagger between ribs."

"Not literally, I hope."

She gave him a dry smile. "Triune willing, it won't come to that."

"You're a soldier, aren't you? You've been out on the bloodied waves."

"That doesn't mean I know how to get through Daval's blockade, Daval's bolt cannons. If I did, Pavaloir would be flying blue flags." She cut a look at him. "No offense."

"A little taken, but I'll forgive it. You saved me, down there. Not a bad trick, with those..." He raised his hands and mimed wriggling mouthparts.

"Just blood in the water. If it spares more, I'll gladly give it."

Alois nodded, then reached into his waistcoat and pulled forth a bundle, wrapped in a kerchief. Isabella narrowed her eyes.

"I don't know if this will help," Alois said. "But...I thought it might be better than leaving it behind."

"Is that..." Isabella started.

She didn't finish. Alois unwrapped the bundle. The fading light struck its hilt, jet and tarnished silver. It struck its blade. Whaleglass, prismatic, blue and flame and silver, translucent as crystal. Cereza's blood still lingered on its edge.

"I got it from your room," Alois said. "I hope you don't mind."

"That thing should be thrown in the ocean," Isabella said.

"Then do that, if you want."

She let out her breath, but didn't answer. After a pause, Alois wrapped the whaleglass knife again and stowed it inside his waistcoat.

"I'm...I'm sorry," he said.

"About what?"

"Your Falcii."

She shook her head, like she was flicking off a fly. "They can handle a few deepghasts. They'll be fine."

"Not just them."

Isabella let out her breath. She strode over the stream. "Elias," she barked. "You all in one piece?"

He nodded.

"Come on, then." She moved past him, deeper into the cedar grove. Alois followed, pausing to help Elias down from the boulder. The twilight faded from the woods, and stars began to spangle the sky. Alois took a last breath of the warm sap-sweet breeze.

"You never answered how we're going to get through the blockade," he called.

"I know a sparrow," Isabella called back.

***

Night in the Valeris docks districts was a dark and simmering thing, knifeglint and beggar's fingers, night fishermen pushing flopping loads of phosphorescent fishes to their stalls, smoke twining from long pipes and dark deals haggled in corners. Alois had seen it in daytime on his way from the docks, and had stared, fascinated, down crookback cobbled streets of smoke-stained buildings, at the Rashi salt grannies as they crouched in doorways smoking long pipes, at the merchants and tarnish and grime.

Then, Lapide had been on the brink of hope. Tonight was different. Tonight held an edge, tension in every gaze, in the way the salt grannies clutched their pistol hilts, the way city guard stared into the faces of passersby and gripped their rifle straps. Doors that had before been open were now shut and barred, low conversations swapped across fryhouse tables, fingertips never far from a stiletto hilt.

Isabella kept her head down and face hidden by her cloak hood. Alois had a scarf, and Elias went undisguised, just another rigging spider pushing through the crowd. With their clothes dirty and finery abandoned, they looked like nothing more than a trio of dock workers eager to get home.

The stream of people thinned, and Alois caught sight of a mural splayed across a wall. Daval Belmont, impaled through the heart; the same spear impaled Captain Azare, and their blood flowed thick as rivers, red paint daubed so thickly it formed smears and crusts across the warehouse bricks. With a pang Alois saw he lay there dead, too, and a caricature of a young blue-eyed woman and little boy that could only be Queen Adele and Marin.

Isabella glanced sidelong at him as he sucked in a gasp.

His little brother. Lapide was calling for his blood. For a moment the prospect of what he was setting out to do seemed overwhelming, the weight of the sea, and sky, and all things. Too heavy to bear.

No, he told himself. That's Father talking. But he couldn't look away from the face of his little brother, crudely rendered, spattered in red.

Someone touched his shoulder. Alois flinched. Isabella stood by his side, fingertips light on his arm. He could just make out her gray eyes under the cloak hood.

"We need to keep moving," she murmured. "Can you do that?"

Alois tore his gaze from the bloody mural and nodded. His little brother, dead. Cereza, dying, her long hair streaked with blood. His own face, again and again, far from Bellana's light. So many lost, so many dying. He remembered the three-faced woman in the shrine, the play of candlelight off quartz, the gods that never seemed to listen.

Please, he prayed. Please let this be right.

They wound down alleys coiled like a nest of snakes, under ceilings of carpets put out to air in the cool night breeze, past racks of drying fish and children prowling and beggars slumped in corners, some dressed in ragged remains of soldiers' uniforms. Isabella took them under a portico, aclatter with hanging sailor's charms made from crab claws and small bones. The portico shadowed the arched entryway into a small courtyard, a whitebrick building rising three or more stories to a sloped, tiled roof.

It looked to be one of Valeris's older buildings, its walls belled and sagged, roof much-mended and sunscoured, bleaching the color from the tiles- one of many fryhouses and wayside watering holes strung along this edge of Valeris's harbor. Music threaded from green shutters. A sign swung over the entryway: a pale gray bird with long, pointed wings, crimson blood weeping round the arrow that pierced its heart. Words below in coastal Lapidaean read The Mollymawk.

The door was open, an urchin girl perched on the steps, singing as she whittled at a lump of orkbone. She looked up as Alois, Elias, and Isabella approached.

"Anything to spare?" she asked.

"Only fish-scales," Isabella said, and pressed a mark into the girl's hand: a heavy brass coin stamped with the dead queen's face. The girl made it vanish, then scrambled away.

"What was that about?" Alois asked.

"I fancy a drink," Isabella said. "I'm buying."

Inside, the air was dense and humid with sweat, with the scent rising from the lush spill of veil orchids down one crumbling wall. In a corner, someone picked at an off-key balalaika, and the tables were filling fast with a crowd of dock workers, ork-butchers stripping gorestained gauntlets from hands, painted girls and boys knocking shoulders with hulking herring crews. A glimmit sang from its cage over the bar. Shadows lurked, untouched by the sputtering amber glow of low-grade ork-oil.

Isabella shouldered to a free corner table, by the veil orchids. She flashed three fingers to the approaching barmaid.

"This sparrow," Alois said once the girl was gone, tugging down his scarf. "Can you trust him?"

"He doesn't answer to Enzo. Barely to me."

"Then who's he answer to?"

"Lapide," Isabella said. "And yes. We can trust him."

She surveyed the room and drew a breath. "Luca loved places like this," she muttered. "He'd come down to these docks as much as he could to listen to salt grannies spin tales of the high seas, gawk at anything and everything. If it was strange, or monstrous, he loved it. Sometimes I think he'd have been happier as a fisherman."

Alois' heart twisted. "My little brother's just the same."

"Prince Marin?"

Thinking of him was difficult. Alois dug his thumbnail into the table. "And what about you?"

Her mouth thinned. "I always preferred order. Swords in racks, all things in their right place. My mother trained me well."

Their drinks arrived in handleless earthenware cups. Isabella didn't touch hers, but Alois sipped at the strong stuff; he needed all the courage he could get. He glanced up as a group entered the cantina, then froze, cup poised at his mouth.

"Isabella," he whispered.

She looked and tensed as the trio of city guards, laughing, joking, off-duty and uniforms unruly, settled at the table alongside theirs. Alois ducked his head; Isabella tugged her hood lower over her eyes, one hand slipping beneath the table. Alois didn't need to look to know she was reaching for her stiletto.

"Hey. You there."

Alois flinched as one of them tugged at his scarf. He half-turned. Elias watched him, eyes huge in his thin face.

"Gio here wagers he's the king of catsbones," the guard said, hooking a thumb at one of his comrades. "I say he's a gull-brained fool who any old ork-butcher can trounce. What do you say? Want to take me up on an honest bet?"

"He's no good at catsbones," Isabella said, her voice hard.

"Oh, come on, just one game. What's the matter? You scared?"

"We have to go." Isabella made as if to rise.

"Late for the...fish," Alois cut in, lamely.

"Wait." The guard straightened, his grin flickering. His comrades did, too. "There's something familiar about you. I seen you before?"

Isabella stood. "We're going. Now."

The guard caught her arm just below the elbow. "Not before you take off the hood-"

Isabella's stiletto gleamed as she flicked it from its sheath and pressed it to the guard's underarm. Her eyes burned. "You want it that badly, do you?"

The guard's breathing caught. "Triune," he said. "You're-"

Alois heard a hiss. The guard's eyes sprang wide, then slid out of focus. He slumped, all at once, over the table; his head struck wood with a smack, and he sprawled, out cold.

A man stood behind him, slight, shadowy, clad in scarf and tricorn and oilskin half-cape.

The guard's companions stumbled from their chairs. The stranger lifted his hand. A needle-thin knife glinted between his fingers.

"Looks like your friend's had too much to drink," he said. "Wouldn't want to cut your fine night short like he has, would you?"

He turned to Isabella and inclined his head. "Follow me."

The stranger led them from the cantina, down steps and under bridges, winding through narrow alleys and along canals until they reached the back stoop of a warehouse, stained whitebrick and rotting old barrels, the smell of fish strong enough to make Alois's eyes water. The stranger pulled off his mask and tricorn and shook out his rumpled black hair. His face beneath the mask was pointed, foxish, his olive skin latticed with healing cuts.

"Highness," he said.

"Ren," Isabella said, clasping his hands.

"Apologies for the scene back there. I figured a jab of adderhasp to the neck would expedite the situation faster than alternative solutions."

"And I'm grateful for it." She turned to Alois and Elias. "This is Renard Irio. The Sparrow."

Alois knew the title. This was the man who'd gathered Estara's secrets for so many years, had flown them across Bellana's Arm, had whispered intelligence in Sofia Valere's ear that had put countless Estaran soldiers in their graves. Alois's mouth was dry, but Ren simply gave him a polite nod, dark eyes lingering on his face.

"I'm sorry about your mother," he said after a pause. "I wasn't the only one to grieve at the news of her death."

"You weren't," Isabella agreed. "I assume, then, you don't share the common belief that I murdered her."

"Did you?" Ren asked. "Murder her?"

Isabella's hands tightened on his. "No."

"Then I don't believe you did."

"Thank you, Ren." She drew a slow breath. "I need your talents."

His eyes flicked to Alois again. "I should say so, if you have the heir to Estara with you."

"You slipped me the sunlight commands, I assume?"

"I'm sorry it couldn't have been a knife."

"There isn't much time, Ren, so let me be blunt," Isabella said. "We need to get across Bellana's Arm, through the Estaran naval blockade, and into Pavaloir. And fast."

Ren arched his eyebrows. "That's all? You wouldn't like a private audience with Queen Valeria along with that?"

"No," Isabella said crisply. "I don't know how much you've heard, and I don't have the time to explain. All I ask is for this, and for you to trust me."

"You intend to flee Lapide, on the heels of your accusations?"

"We intend to save Lapide," Alois said. Both Ren and Isabella turned to face him. "And Estara. I intend to warn my father of a threat the likes of which he will have little defense against. I intend to heal this break between your country and mine for good."

He set his jaw. "And that's all."

A smile ghosted over Ren's face. He sighed, stretching. "You ask for the luck of legends."

Alois swallowed past the knot in his throat. "Can you give me such luck?"

"Only the gods and the Great Leviathan can grant miracles, Highness," Ren said. "But it takes mortals like us to be bold enough to try. Follow me."

[inky-duchess]

Family of TTK~ Belle's family

Belle: Belle is the PoV character for the Beronys plotline. She is the eldest of the brood, the more grounded of all her siblings. She acts as their second mother and their anchor in her siblings' lives.

Bellana: Bellana is the Princess from hell if you ask her governesses who tried in vain to make her a lady. Bellana is feral as you can get, more interested in her dragon than forging alliances through marriage. She has a heart of gold but a temper from hell if you harm her family. She has no interest in conforming, only wishing for the freedom to do as she pleases.

Rae: Rae is the youngest and the most indulged of the siblings. He is a cheery soul, always ready to laugh, console or reassure somebody. He is not as experienced as his sisters with dragons despite bonding with his own. Rae is quite the Casanova, a born flirt and the cause of more than one angry father chasing him through the palace with a sword.

Taglist: @authoressasusual @you-reblogged-from @word-by-word @trapped-inadystopianovel @wanderingalonelypath @mysthicrider @thebestmollygrue @reignnyx @writinglyra @anomaly00 @thewordsinthesky-andstars @heldinhishands @ladywithalamp @scribonaut @dawnoftheagez @writing-in-rain @paperandredink @saxoniowrites @writeblrfantasy @mayawritesbooks @valiant-wielder @treesandwords @nicopeppah @ink-and-stories @ezra-ezra-ezra @dragonauthor

[nire-the-mithridatist]

Just before I sleep, gonna shamelessly be thirsty on main and ask any and all of you who haven't read Ocean Eyes, Diamond Heart to read it please pretty please. Chapter two is up, and it is a doozy.

And because this is shameless AM, here's some quoted comments, just like that novel with the interesting title in your favourite bookstore that puts endorsements instead of a blurb on the back cover:

"Well that somehow managed to be fun and poignant at the same time." - ao3 user forbiddenfantasies

"Um THIS is SO GOOD. Jaime former man shark now man snack" - ao3 user Bellana

"I love the dumbass fish boi, this fic and you. Not necessarily in that order." - president of manmaid!jaime fanclub @slipsthrufingers, who shall never be forgotten for her relentless support

And don't miss the fabulous cover art by the lovely @ronordmann!

Come for the shirtless wet Jaime. Stay for the feels.

[itakelotsofpictures-blog]

She Made It

We got up around 6:30am today, about an hour and a half ago, and saw a text from Bellana say she was on the ground. The flight tracker I was watching last night had the plane on the ground in Amsterdam right on time. There’s a six hour time difference so I asked her if she caught her train out of Amsterdam to her final destination and she said yes. They are in their rented apartment and starting…

[enbystede]

Please share your opinion on Tom Paris and Bellana's relationship if you have one.

1. Holy FUCK thank you so much for sending me a Voyager ask????? Like holy shit???? I love Voyager so fucking much???

Okay and 2. Tom and B'elanna. Honestly, I feel like they would have been better off as friends. There is something between them, but is that something fully romantic??? Hmm…….. Nah. They would have been totally rocking besties, like the embodiment of those bro memes.

[blueblueberryjam]

tagged by @katryh

Rules: Answer the questions in a new post and tag 10 blogs you would like to get to know better.

nickname: katie

star sign: aquarius

height: 5′7.5″ as always, the .5 is important

time right now: 6:16pm

favourite music artist: er... lin manuel miranda? I’m dying over moana, and have been for a few weeks

song stuck in your head: someday, by sarah bareilles

last movie watched: Sully, which was great. Watch if you can

last tv show watched: Um... it’s been a while? I don’t get to watch tv shows at home much, because home has shit internet and no television service. star trek, probably. i’m on voyager! janeway and bellana are faves

what are you wearing right now: t shirt and jeans. rock on, southern american winter

when did you create your blog: 2013, probably

what kind of stuff do you post: y’all know. this, that, and the other. 

do you have any other blogs: i have reserved urls but that’s it

do you get asks regularly: no, but if you’d like to change that, be my guest!

why did you chose your URL: i am a nerd, my name is katie

gender: woman

hogwarts house: ravenclaw (y’all i just got to go to harry potter world, and i’m so excited because i got a scarf to rock. when it gets cold.)

pokemon team: Instinct!

favourite colour: navy blue and burgundy

average hours of sleep: 9 minimum is what i need

lucky number: 13! Yes, really!

favourite characters: uh... would you make a mother choose her favorite child? so there’s shiro, and pidge, and peggy carter, and fialleril’s double agent anakin, and pearl, and um, janeway, and torres, and spock, and mccoy, and alternate universe kirk, and i’ll just leave it there

how many blankets do you sleep with: one. a quilt in the summer, and an electric blanket in the winter. no need for more

dream job: neuropsychologist, although I think part of me wants to be on broadway

following: lots. more than a thousand

tagging: @craibea @dying-redshirt-noises @karlwhatarebuttonsurban

[rosegoldcas]

They played a Glee cover at my centre the other day too lmao. Ik Dianna’s voice anywhere

*one millisecond of any glee song plays*

You:

[rosegoldcas]

I have a hot take I am finally brave enough to admit. I love Alone Together but I kind of hate the production lmao the “yeah”s r so childish I wish it was acoustic or something

I know exactly what you mean. I love Alone Together so much and I really don’t mind a lot of the production but the “yeah!”s did always get on my nerves a little bit.

I never like it when songs add a chorus of kids/kids vocals/ anything that sounds like kids vocals in the background, it IMMEDIATELY makes me think of Kidz Bop every single time I hear it (Good Time by Owl City and Carly Rae Jepsen I’m looking at YOU)

[rosegoldcas]

Also lmao u literally posted two weeks ago that yr top four was stable. I want to add Velvet Goldmine to mine but I can’ttt get rid of Saw

That’s what I get for bragging I guess 😭

Seeing your letterboxd page without Saw in your top 4 would be CRAZYYYY

[rosegoldcas]

It should be illegal to play Two of Us at my centre though lmao like damn I’m just trying to have my lunch break

Why on EARTH would they play Two Of Us out in public? That’s a private song dammit

[rosegoldcas]

When Louis solo songs play in public I feel like ppl have discovered my secret artist no one knows lmao

SO TRUEEE

I will say from personal experience it is oddly comforting hearing Don’t Let It Break Your Heart playing while shopping for yarn at Michaels

[rosegoldcas]

Idk what is abt srar honestly. This is gonna make it worse lmao but I don’t love Elton John’s part 😞 I don’t love his voice on it

I don’t even mind that you don’t like Elton’s part, like it’s good but it is subpar for him and that’s fine to admit. Also I get the kinda hype whiplash you get from Rat A Tat to SRAR, but idk SRAR gets me hyped up in a different way. Idk how to explain it.

[rosegoldcas]

Do u like Ariana’s new album

Honestly I haven’t listened to it 🤷‍♀️ I’m not much of a fan of hers but I will say I like We Can’t Be Friends and Yes And? has grown on me more than I’d like to admit.

I’ll listen to it if it’s worth it, though. I kinda wanted to watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind first so I could immerse myself but I just haven’t gotten around to it.

[rosegoldcas]

I have another srar hot take. I kind of don’t love srar the song anymore. Bit of a skip. Sorry 😔

JAILLLLLLLLL

I agreed with you on the Alone Together hot take but to call Save Rock And Roll a skip?? I just don’t get it

I mean “I’ve cried tears you’ll never see, so fuck you you can go cry me an ocean and leave me be” is a little cringe and maybe now that I think about it it’s a little boomerish of them to be like “we’re the last ones who understand rock and roll enough to save it”,,,,,,,,,, but still, there’s so much seriously powerful stuff in SRAR that I just can’t overlook

[rosegoldcas]

Criminal that Saw is coming back to theatres for the twentieth anniversary but not in Australia 💔 this is what we get for rejecting it in 2003

💔

Australia I’m so sorry you have to miss out on Saw 😢