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frostsinth · 4 years ago

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Royal Flush - Pt. 5

Prologue - Part 1|2|3|4 - Art | Art | Art - MasterList

I had this mostly finished, and since interest in the story has picked up and I am very attached to this part, I decided to post it. Call me crazy.

Apologies... I hope you guys enjoy this section... It certainly gave me feelings. I really need to work on some of my other stuff. But these idiots have stolen my full attention.

Stop by my MasterList above to read more stories, and feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you are there. Drop me an ask with thoughts/comments/questions, and DM me if you’d like to commission your own artwork or story. Enjoy!

True to his word… I did not see Grier the following day. I slept restlessly, and woke with the sun. Neither a particularly unusual phenomenon, however the reasoning behind it certainly was. I felt guilty, and torn. Part of me felt as though I had acted too harshly, requesting to see my sister alone. Honestly, until he had said something that was the impression I had been under. Then there was guilt, for having made him upset. It was certainly not my intent. But another part of me was angry that he was mad at me. Who was he to demand inclusion into my private affairs? Who was he to think he could meet my sister, the one light and joy in my life? A quiet voice reminded me that he likely thought he was my intended, so why wouldn’t he? Our families would be joined by marriage soon, and he had openly welcomed me to his…. I didn’t like the sound reasoning of that voice, and chose to ignore it.

I moved almost eagerly to the door at the knock not long after dawn. But had to work hard to hide my disappointment that it was only General Damjan for our promised morning spar. I followed him reluctantly to the training cliffs. Though I did find the match pleasantly distracting; nothing quite like getting the blood pumping in a fight. There was no time to dwell on emotions or regrets in the ring. One had to live in the moment, and for that I was grateful.

But still, I was quickly made aware that I wasn’t at the top of my game when one of the General’s obvious feints landed home. Knocking me solidly onto my backside. His head cocked to the side as he offered me a hand up, big ears flopping.

“Something on your mind, Your Highness?”

I gave a very unprincely grunt, then winced. I couldn’t seem to keep my composure. It was getting harder every passing minute I was here. It made me anxious to think I might be all but completely exposed now. I glanced at the General, but he merely offered me a kind smile. At least I hadn’t managed to offend him, I thought to myself ...Yet.

I took his hand and let him yank me back to my feet. My toe scuffed at the ground while I rubbed at the back of my neck.

“Apologies, General…” I said sincerely, “My head seems to be… elsewhere this morning.”

“You thinking about the King?” I jerked at his words, glancing over at him as I quickly managed to get my composure back up after the slip. Damjan merely laughed. “My turn for apologies. It’s not my place. But I did see His Majesty looking quite… sour, this morning.” A sheepish grin formed on his lips. “Honestly, I was surprised to see him at all. The man is not exactly what I would call a ‘morning person’. Must have had a restless night.”

I glanced over my shoulder, half expecting to see the goblin in question standing at the wall of the ring. Damjan whistled lightly, bringing my attention back to him as he tossed me the waterskin. I nodded appreciatively, and took a long, deep drink from it.

“You know, although he’s always been a... spirited fellow, I’ve never seen the King lose his head quite like… Well,” He dropped off, slapping his big hand on my shoulder. I sputtered slightly, choking a little on the last bit of water I had been in the process of swallowing. “... I think it’s good for him. Having you around.” He grinned again. “Maybe you’ll level him out.”

His words lingered with me as I spent the rest of the day in my empty rooms. I dared to use the bathing room, though I jumped at every little sound. But it was refreshing to finally get all the dirt and sweat from the past few days off. There was only so much a basin of water could do. I found the pools to be surprisingly hot and relaxing, and lingered far longer than I usually would bathing.

An attendant I didn’t know brought food twice during the day, and I thanked him politely both times. He grinned and bounced about eagerly, but said nothing. Otherwise, I was left alone with my thoughts. Of which I had many. Most of which circumvented around Grier. And my sister.

A second restless night had me out of sorts at dawn, shortly after which a lighter knock had me up to find Hibik at my door. He led me to the courtyard, where a fine team of horses was hitched to an extravagant looking gold inlaid carriage imprinted with the Royal Crest. I almost faltered in my step when I saw the goblin King standing beside it.

He turned to me as I approached, his thin lips pursed, his brows pinched. Scarlet eyes looked me up and down, and he crossed his arms over his chest lightly.

“I’m coming.” He declared, his authoritative “don’t-argue-with-me” tone in place before I even had time to open my mouth to formally greet him. “I won’t interfere with your time with your sister. But I will not allow you to leave these lands unaccompanied.”

I considered the armored guard mounting up behind him, settling into their saddles and adjusting their weapons. But I hadn’t the strength to argue; I was already frayed from nearly a week of borderline sleepless nights and day after day of emotional reckoning. I wondered briefly if this was what tortured prisoners felt like; constantly on the edge of breaking, but desperately clinging to the notion that they could hold out. I was glad I had always kept prisoners in my care in good conditions if it was.

I nodded formally to him. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

He scowled deeper at my words, and climbed into the waiting carriage. I hid my steadying breath with a brief glance around the courtyard, giving an acknowledging nod to the driver who tipped his hat to me respectfully.

The inside of the carriage was favorably dark, but not uncomfortably so, and had wooden seats lined with soft cushions. We sat across from each other against the back wall, and the footman closed the door behind us. The tension settled between us heavily, and the air felt drier for it. I pretended not to notice him glaring at me. A few moments later, we started off.

The sounds of the outside world were muffled, and I glanced through the small curtained windows. Curious despite myself, though I was careful to keep that from my face. Didn’t need to look like an eager child, gawking at the strange lands. It had been dark when I had first arrived at the castle; I hadn’t been able to properly see the outskirts of the city that spread from beneath the mountain onto the countryside. I jerked slightly back as we passed some citizens on the road, not sure if I was welcome to be seen by the general masses.

“The windows are charmed.” Grier told me, his voice bitter. I flicked my gaze over to him as he leaned back. “Sounds from outside are muffled, and they cannot see nor hear us.” His scarlet eyes flicked out his own window. “Commonplace magic for the Royal carriages.”

I didn’t see a need to answer that, and so used the opportunity to lean forward slightly and peer out the window again. Stone walls and colorful stucco buildings passed us by, then we were quickly out to the fields. It seemed the majority of the city really was buried beneath the mountain as the legends said.

“So, my young Prince,” The King said coarsely, finally breaking the terse silence after a long portion of travelling had passed, “Did I foil your plans? Coming along thus?”

I gritted my teeth, steeling what was left of my will, and turned to face him. “I am not sure what you mean, Your Majesty.”

His scowl somehow deepened, pronouncing his already prominent brow. “Well, I assumed you intended to use this “reunion” as a way to flee my Kingdom. After all, why else would you insist on meeting alone?”

Anger wrapped hot fingers around my gut. “As you insist you wish to know more about me, Your Majesty,” I replied, my face flat and my voice cold, “Allow me to inform you that I never go back on my word. If you will learn nothing else, know at least that.”

His eyes flashed. “Oh, my apologies, Your Highness. It would be hard to learn much of anything from a man made of stone.” He cocked his head to the side, wild hair flopping about. “I thought perhaps I had made a permanent crack in it and saw flesh beneath. But I believe now that was a mistake. Though on whose part, I have yet to determine.”

I didn’t justify that with an answer, turning to look back out the window. I thought I heard him huff, and heard the seat creak as he shifted. There was a long, hot silence then, interrupted only by the bounce of the carriage over stones in the road.

“Is it ingrained so deeply in you to hate my kind?” He asked finally, breaking the quiet between us again. “I thought…” I heard him suck in a breath, “I thought perhaps you were different, but the fact that you won’t even trust me to meet your sister leads me down a different trail of thought.”

I had to work to keep the anger from my face and voice. I didn’t look at him, though I knew it was incredibly rude and disrespectful. Part of me wanted to insult him thus. Part of me was just too damn tired to keep up the charade. I wasn’t sure how long we had been riding, but our speed seemed to have picked up. Another hour or two of this, and we should be at the border. I just hoped I could make it there in one piece.

I cut myself back from making an equally harsh retort, and swallowed hard, falling back on courtesy answers. “I apologize if that is how Your Majesty chooses to view-”

“How else am I to view it?” He snapped back, and I had to clench my hands into fists to keep from swinging at him. “What else am I to think, after-” He stopped himself, his voice breaking. The goblin gave an angry sigh, shaking his head. “After yesterday, I thought… I thought we might be… connecting.” I resisted a wince, but felt myself tighten at his words. “I thought maybe…” I saw him shift his jaw out of the corner of my eye. “But then, you switched back, just like that-” he snapped his fingers “-and now I sit across from a statue again, and am expected to be content that he is to be my husband.”

I pinched my lips into a thin line, swallowing my reply as soon as it surfaced to sit on my tongue. My temper was flared, and I was struggling to keep it in check. His words from the previous night came to mind. All his promises, all his assurances. He claimed he would give me time, but as soon as I faltered and showed even a hint of anything that displeased him… And I realized; I didn’t make him happy. The idea of me made him happy. The promise of an exotic husband, a regal ceremony, an evening companion. Not me. Not who I was. Though I couldn’t entirely blame him; for after all, what did either of us know about that person? The sudden understanding stung, and I couldn’t bring myself to reply for another long stretch of silence.

“You really have nothing to say?” His voice was peteringly soft, and I was surprised it sounded more like a plea than an accusation.

I turned my eyes on him, careful to keep them as empty as I could manage. “You seem to have already made up your mind about me, Your Majesty.” I told him, my own voice soft. I wasn’t able to mask it as well as my face; I could taste the fraying at the edges, and wondered if the pain in it was as evident as it was in my chest. “...I am not sure if anything I could say would change it.”

Another long silence. So long I lost track of it, turning to stare back out the window. Trying not to linger on what the future might mean for me and the goblin sitting quietly across from me. Trying not to think about Morgana, or the ache settling in my bones at the thought of seeing her. He seemed to be deep in thought as well, and it was nearly an hour before I heard him sigh.

“I… I just don’t understand why you…” He started, and the hurt in his voice had me glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. He sighed deeply again, shaking his head and leaning forward to cup it in his palms. “These last few days… I thought things had changed between us… but maybe it hasn’t been enough.” He rubbed at his face, then leaned back again. “I promised to give you time. And I am also a man of my word… Patience is… is not one of my virtues, I know. But for you… I will give as much as I can. Please forgive me my lapses.”

The carriage was slowing, and I realized we must have been at the border. Grier momentarily forgotten, I checked the horizon to see the sun nearing its zenith. My heart leapt, and my stomach rolled with anticipation. Not long, I told myself. Not long now until I could see Morgana again. My heart ached, and I felt myself waver. Felt my strength ebb. Gods, I was so tired. I felt so shaky and weak. I was not ready for this. I couldn’t even begin to think what to say... The carriage stopped, and I heard boots coming around to the door.

His hand caught my arm as I moved to disembark. I looked over at him surprised, and I knew my mask had slipped from the way he considered my face. His own looked pained, and I saw him hesitate before his resolve returned.

“Just… can I ask why you wanted to see your sister alone? Can I beg that answer of you?”

I looked down at his hand. “... Because... I know I am not strong enough… And..” I dropped off, surprising myself with the words and the honesty in them. I swallowed hard.

He released my arm, his brow furrowed lightly. “...Not strong enough for what?”

I slowly started to build up the mask again, but felt as though it didn’t quite reach my eyes when I answered.

“... To say goodbye.”

...

I glanced over at Grier, still lost in my thoughts, my hands clasped behind my back. He wasn’t looking at me, speaking softly to the few goblin guards and attendants. Giving orders, I supposed, and I shifted slightly. I couldn’t make out the quiet words from this distance, but it seemed a likely guess based upon the respectful stance the men took before saluting and marching off. The anxiousness sitting in the pit of my stomach didn’t lessen as the King turned, seeming to sense my eyes on him. His face was scrunched, and I wondered for a moment if he was still mad at me. But his scarlet gaze didn’t linger, instead flicking just past me to the road. A breath later, he turned and retreated to the front of the carriage. I could only just make out his shoulder around the corner as he leaned against it. Hardly another breath passed before I realized why he suddenly seemed to be hiding.

“NIKO!” Came the shout, and my heart leaped at the voice.

I half spun to face the road, realizing I had been so lost in my own thoughts I hadn’t even heard the other carriage approach and stop perpendicular to ours a few yards away. But the tiny ball of unbridled joy hurtling at me as fast as her little legs could carry her? I did just manage to see that. Instantly, I dropped to one knee, and caught my little sister’s flying embrace.

She wrapped her little arms tightly around my neck, burying her face against me. Her fluffy and thick untamed curls smelled sweet and were soft as clouds as they brushed against my cheek. I wrapped my own arms around her, squeezing her and swallowing back the tears that suddenly welled in my eyes. Gods, how I had missed her.

She laughed, wriggling in my arms, trying to break free. “Niko! I can’t breathe!”

I released her, my face instantly brightening and a smile splitting it from ear to ear as I leaned back to appraise her. It felt strange. My first smile in days; it made everything feel a bit better. Her grin was nearly as big as mine, and she was bouncing with excitement. I pushed her hair back, looking her over. But she seemed in good health as well as good spirits.

“Hey, little chickadee,” I breathed, running my thumb over her cheek. She leaned into my touch, “It’s good to see you too. Did you get taller?” I teased, tweaking her nose, “I swear you were only up to my knee last time I saw you!”

She laughed, swatting away my hand. Despite her dismissal, she beamed at me eagerly, then a scowl formed on her face.

“Where’d you go, Niko?” She demanded, putting her hands on her hips, “You promised you would only be gone for a few days!”

“Ah,” I shook my head, “Sorry, I should have written. My plans were… changed.”

“Did the goblins capture you?” She asked, and she sounded more excited about the idea than afraid. “Are they holding you for ransom? Do I need to come rescue you?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “No, little chickadee, I don’t need you to come and save me today.”

She seemed a bit disappointed, and I took up her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. Her head cocked to the side slightly. “The court says you got a Treatsy signed with the goblins. And Val says you’re getting married…”

I stiffened slightly, and my smile shrank by a molar or two. I glanced over her shoulder, and saw Gareth standing by the carriage. A deep scowl was set in his face as he jerked his chin to order the soldiers to spread out. Creating a tense circle of goblins and humans around us. I was pretty certain he was too far away to hear us. He seemed to be making enough of a point not to look at me.

“A Treaty, not a Treatsy.” I corrected her gently. “And Valerianus is right, I am getting married.” I told her, forcing the worrying thoughts out of my mind and giving her my full attention.

“Are you marrying a goblin?” She asked, sounding both bewildered and absolutely awestruck.

I laughed lightly again, nodding and dropping my gaze shyly. “Yes, little chickadee. But not just any goblin.” I cuffed her chin playfully, trying to belittle the seriousness of what I was about to tell her. Trying to hide the dread of her impending reaction. “... I’m marrying their King.”

Her little lips formed into a pout. “You can’t marry a King, Niko!” She exclaimed, scolding me as if I were trying to trick her. “You’re a Prince! Princes don’t marry Kings.”

“Goblin Princes do.” I assured her lightly, trying not to let my voice falter.

She considered this, biting her fingernail. “Oh… Ok, That’s fine then, I guess.” I gently pulled her hand away from her mouth, resisting the urge to sigh with relief and feeling altogether lighter for her instant acceptance. “Do you like him? Is he nice?”

I hesitated, the hairs on the back of my neck prickling. Very aware that Grier was probably able to overhear us; in the typical manner of a nine year old, she certainly wasn’t making any effort to keep her voice down. And our carriage was closer than hers. I resisted the urge to look over at him off to my left. I spared him a brief thought, wondering what he was thinking. Wondering if he was watching; though I had little doubt he was. He was far too curious. I glanced down at her hands in mine, and my smile returned.

“... Well, little chickadee, I don’t know yet. But... I think I might.” I brushed her bushy hair back from her face. “...And he’s very nice.”

“Hmmm.” She grumbled, pushing my hands away and crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, he’d better be nice to you! Or I’m gonna beat him up!”

“Morgana,” I scolded, and she faltered as I used her real name, “You can’t just go around and beat people up.”

She snorted, stomping one foot. “I don’t care! If he’s mean to you, I’m gonna-” She stopped at my warning look, then gave a little huff. Scuffing her feet in the ground. “...When are you coming home, Niko?”

My heart stopped at that, and my smile sank away. I swallowed, and scooped her into another hug. I had to close my eyes to hide the wetness welling in the corners. She seemed to sense my pain, as she always did, and her little arms wrapped as far around me as they could manage.

“I’m not, little chickadee,” I told her honestly, “I have to stay with the goblins.”

Her grip tightened, and she buried her face in my neck. “I miss you, Niko. I don’t like the castle when you aren’t there.”

I almost broke at the quiver in her voice. I swallowed hard again, stiffening and slowly pushing her back. I cupped her face in my palms, running my thumbs under her eyes. I could see the dampness there, and it threatened to overflow in my own eyes at the sight.

“It’s my responsibility to the Kingdom to keep this treaty. To keep the peace. It’s my honor to do this for our people. And to do so, I have to stay with the goblins…” I explained to her, dropping off at the end. “...But you’ll still see me,” I managed finally, “... I’ll come visit and-”

“Can I come live with you?” She interrupted, and then started bouncing on her toes in excitement. “Can I come to the goblin castle??”

I hesitated, but a small, sad smile returned to my face. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, chickadee.”

“Oh please, Niko! Please!” She begged, and I could already see her imagination going wild. “It would be so much fun! And then I could make sure the goblin King is nice to you!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. She always knew how to cheer me up, though I knew it was mostly unintentional. Her vigor for life, her smile. That was all I needed to be happy. But my joy was tinged with sadness, as I could see Gareth getting restless behind her. Soon the light of my life would be carted away again…

“And what about our King, hm?” I pointed out. “Who will keep an eye on him if you come to live with me? And on Valerianus? Someone needs to keep our brother from getting a big head.”

Morgana giggled as I fluffed her halo of hair in illustration, pushing away my hand again. Then she pouted, shaking her own head.

“Yeah… Maybe…” Her little brown eyes wobbled as she considered me sadly. “... Father doesn’t talk about you anymore. He acts as though you are dead. I don’t like it.”

I stiffened at that, and had to work extra hard to keep my disappointment and pain from my face. Morgana was too perceptive for me to let even a flicker show. And she knew me far too well for it to be an easy feat.

“... I’m sure he’s just mad at me,” I told her softly, brushing my knuckles over her cheek, “... He’ll come around… You know how he is.”

She didn’t push the issue further, and I saw her glance over towards our carriage. I wondered if she could see Grier there. “... Please, Niko? Can’t I go with you? I swear I’ll behave! You won’t even notice me!”

I sighed heavily, looking at her big brown eyes. “Not yet, little chickadee… But maybe someday. When you’re older.”

She scowled. “That’s just how adults say ‘no’.”

I chuckled, grinning at her and cuffing her chin tenderly again. “Some adults. Not me.” I ran my hand through her hair one last time. “...You can come visit, ok? Once we get everything sorted.”

Morgana considered this, and I saw her eyes dart over to the side again. She had never really seen too many goblins, especially not this close before. I knew she was dying of curiosity. But she must have sensed our time together was short. She chose my company over her own adventuring spirit, and shuffled her feet restlessly. It made my heart hurt.

“... You promise?”

I took her pinky and wrapped it around mine, bringing our hands to my heart. “I promise.” She smiled, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffling. “Now you have to promise me something.” I waited until she was looking at me properly again. “You have to stay at the castle. And listen to Valerianus,... and Gareth. Ok? No running off. No sneaking out.” She nodded. “Morgana, do you promise?”

She sighed, as heavily as a nine year old could, and I smiled. “Ok, ok, Niko. I promise.”

“Princess,” Called the old guard in question over her shoulder.

“It’s time for you to go, little chickadee.” I said, swallowing back the pain in my throat.

Morgana lunged at me, wrapping herself tightly around me once more. She squeezed so tight I thought she might pop out her elbows. I enveloped her in my own arms. Closing my eyes to dam the tears that threatened to break through my defenses.

“Princess, we must be going,” Gareth called again, his voice cold.

“Give them a minute.” Came Grier’s command, his voice sharper than I think I had ever heard it, and I felt the tension of the gathered men grow.

A human soldier stepped forward, eyeing the goblins warily. Looking for all intents and purposes like he intended to take hold of Morgana’s arm to take her back to the safety of their ranks. I shot him a look over her shoulder that had him stopping dead in his tracks. He shrank back fearfully from the intensity of my glare, retreating towards the carriage. The other soldiers shifted, looking more than a little anxious and exchanging uncertain glances. Morgana’s arms somehow managed to tighten more. I scooped one arm under her, slowly standing with her pinned against me still. Curling around her protectively.

“Don’t worry little chickadee, it won’t be so bad.” I tried to assure her, putting everything I had ever learned about hiding my emotions into keeping the sadness from my voice. “And when I see you again, I’ll have dozens of stories to tell you.”

“I’m not a baby, Niko,” She grumbled against me, “I don’t need you to tell me bedtime stories.”

I leaned back, and she did too slowly, meeting my gaze. “Not even goblin stories?” I teased, and saw her eyes flicker with interest.

“... Well… Maybe a few then…”

“Princess!” Gareth’s voice grew to demanding levels. Morgana glanced over her shoulder at him.

“Go.” I told her, slowly placing her feet back on the ground. “... I’ll see you very soon, ok?”

She nodded, her hands lingering on my arms. But then she straightened her back and stiffened her little lips. Putting on the same practiced stoicism she had seen me use a hundred times. It stung to see her hiding herself away. I almost winced in pain at the sight. Turning, she made her way back to the waiting carriage and Gareth. She didn’t quite make it halfway before she glanced over her shoulder at me again, her mask breaking at the edges. I offered her a small smile as well as an encouraging wave... and my mask didn’t break.

Gareth shot me a poisonous look as Morgana climbed back in the carriage, but I chose to ignore it. The soldiers maintained their guarded stances until the Princess and her escort were well underway. Finally, they turned, and with armor clanking, trotted after it.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the carriage, and saw Morgana’s little face appear in the back window. My lips tightened as I saw her place her palm against the glass, and barely managed to give her a tiny wave. I nearly choked as they slowly faded into the distance, then crested over the distant hill and out of my sight.

I didn’t hear Grier come up beside me, but I sensed him there. I wasn’t sure how long we stood, gazing off at the empty horizon. I took long, slow breaths, trying to find some semblance of composure. I heard him shift, and noticed him open and close his mouth briefly. Finally, I dropped my gaze, staring at the ground but unseeing. Pushing back the pain and sadness that threatened to undo me. I didn’t say anything to him, turning and making my way back to the carriage.

We had already been bumping along for a long time before he did finally speak. I stared out the window, my eyes pointed at the countryside flying past but still not really seeing anything at all. I felt like the stone he professed me to be; cold and numb. A statue in the shape of a prince staring off into the distance. I would look right at home in the goblin King’s gardens.

“Your sister seems very sweet…” He offered quietly, “... I can see why you are so fond of her.” I didn’t answer, but felt my teeth clench. “...She could come and live with us,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper, “...If you wanted.” A nervous chuckle fell from his lips. “We certainly aren’t wanting for space.”

“No.”

I barely managed to form the word through numb lips, it was all I could manage in my current state, and knew instantly it wouldn’t be received well. I didn’t look at him, but I could feel his pain as palpably as if I had stabbed him with a knife myself. A few agonizing minutes ticked past after my harsh rejection. Adding more guilt to my already stifling emotions.

“If you still have some misconceived notion that I would wish her harm, or this is all some elaborate ploy, then perhaps you have a deeper mistrust for me than I originally believed.” He had traded the hurt for anger when he finally spoke again, and his tongue was as sharp as any sword.

I didn’t have the strength to answer him, and my eyes never moved from the distant horizon. I wasn’t even entirely sure I was blinking anymore. Couldn’t remember the last time I had drawn in a breath that didn’t feel like I was swallowing fire. I would have winced at his words, had I not been working so hard to become the living embodiment of stone.

He sat in silence for a moment, and I could almost hear his thoughts swirling. Had I been more conscious of my surroundings, I might have noticed the anger and pain fighting for dominance over his features. As it was, I felt only the hollow pit of my own sadness. I didn’t have room for anything else. I didn’t dare move my head, lest my neck snap in my fragile state.

“Do you think I or any of my people would ever hurt a child? Do you really think so little of us?” He came back, his voice quivering with his rage. “Perhaps that’s what the real problem is, hmm? Not some bastardization of a childhood that forgot to teach you how to express yourself or understand your emotions. We disgust you… I disgust you. That’s why you can’t bear to look at me, and flinch whenever I touch you. Maybe you were just starting to get used to it. Thought you could pretend long enough to make it a reality.” It took me longer than I cared to admit to realize he was talking again, so lost was I in my despair. That only seemed to make him madder. “But hey, you did your duty, yes? You’ll sacrifice your own happiness for your people. For your sister. Gods forbid you ever ask for anything for yourself. Even if it would be better for both of you in the long run.”

An icy grip settled over me, and my jaw tightened. “Don’t talk about my sister.” My hands started to shake, and I clenched them into fists.

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I not worthy enough to speak of her? Do I disgrace her memory by even daring to think of her?” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Something so perfect as your Princess shouldn’t be mentioned in the same breath as a Goblin.” He leaned back, scowling. His words stung and I felt my resolve quivering beneath the surface of my mask. Felt my pretense of stone breaking.. “The poor thing locked away from the world. No friends save for that bastard guard of yours and your lout of a King. But you’d rather leave her with those monsters who would turn her into another statue like you than suffer her my people. What a life you’ve chosen for her. I’m sure she’ll love it, just like you do.”

The carriage jolted over a rock, and I jerked involuntarily. My eyes squeezed shut, but it was too late. Too late to catch the single fat tear that rolled down the corner of my eye. I swore my skin burned as it slid along the edge of my nose slowly all the way down to my jaw. I half hoped he wouldn’t see it, but based upon the sudden tense silence, I knew he had. I raised one hand, wiping it away with shaking fingers. Clenching every muscle in an effort to keep from quivering, but failing miserably anyway. Struggling to push the pieces of my shattered heart back together. I could almost taste his shock, a bitter addition to my palette. The fresh silence rang painfully between us.

“... I… Forgive me… that was too harsh of me.” He murmured finally, his voice thin.

I shook my head, and took a shamefully shaky breath. I clenched my fist, swallowing hard to try and force the composure back onto myself.

“N-No… No you’re right…” I stammered, then clamped my mouth shut and shook my head again. I tried a steadying breath. It didn’t help. “I-I’ve..” I stopped, then tried to start over. “I’ve abandoned her… I’ve f-fail… I’ve failed her.” My voice broke again, despite my efforts. “D-damnit! I just… I just-”

I heard the creak of the worn cushion as he stood, then felt the seat beside me depress. I could feel his heat, could hear his breath.

“You didn’t fail her-” I stiffened at his voice, trying to get my emotions back in check “-You did what you had to do... To protect her.”

I sucked in a deep breath through my nose, and let it whistle out my mouth. Slowly, I opened my eyes to find Grier next to me, searching my face. His heavy brow was knitted, and I could tell he was torn. He must have still been mad at my rejection, but I could see him longing to reach out to me in the way his hands twitched in his lap and how he leaned as close as he dared across the small seat. I stamped the wave of emotions back, swallowing hard and shaking my head a final time.

“...It’s not about you. Why… Why I said… what I said...” I told him finally, satisfied that while my voice was still peteringly soft, it didn’t shake with the weight of my guilt. “Maybe at first I was worried… but…” I stifled a sigh, looking down at my hands. “You’ve… you’ve been…” I struggled, the words choking in my throat. I ran my thumbs over my palms, staring at them to avoid his waiting eyes. “... I feel… I feel horrible…” I had to close my eyes again. “I feel so… so guilty… Knowing that she’s… she’s alone and I… While I…” I purled my hands into fists, so tightly the knuckles turned white.

I jumped as his own hand slid over the fist resting on my knee closest to him. I opened my eyes to look at it. His three slender fingers and long thumb. His grey-green skin. So strange and foreign to me. To everything I had ever known. But the warmth of his skin against mine… I felt my hand relax incrementally, and sighed deeply.

“Damnit, Grier...” I breathed, his name coming unbidden to my lips, and I used it like an anchor. Longing to just… tell him everything. Yet lacking the means to do so... I felt his hand twitch against mine at the sound of his name. I closed my eyes briefly again, before finding the strength to meet his gaze. He watched me quietly. “If it were up to me, I-I... I would take her back with us in a heartbeat…” I looked away from his distressed face, unable to process his emotions as well as my own, looking off to the side of the bouncing carriage, “... But the King would never…”

I dropped off, pain welling in my chest again. This time it mixed with anger, and I felt my jaw tightening stubbornly. I felt the strength leaving me again, felt the edges of my composure cracking once more. A scowl settled on my lips as I tried to fight the numbness and despair that threatened to swallow me whole.

“... You always call him ‘the King’.” Grier pointed out softly, and I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “Never ‘my father’. Even Morgana called him ‘father’. But I’ve never heard you call him that.”

“If he had ever once been bothered to act like a father to me, maybe I would.” I snapped, then winced at the harshness of my tone. “I-I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to...It’s... it’s complicated…”

He didn’t press the issue, running his thumb lightly back and forth over my knuckles. I watched it, and felt strangely comforted by the touch. Slowly, I began to relax, even letting another sigh escape my lips. Grier shifted a little closer, until our thighs brushed. I glanced over at him hesitantly.

“... You could have put it in the marriage contract,” He mused, “We could still try to make the amendment-”

I shook my head before the words were fully formed in the air between us, stopping him in his train of thought. “The King and Court would never agree to that. Not now… and…” I shifted, looking down at our hands again, “...Despite everything else… he’s still her father…” I swallowed hard, my brow scrunching, “She should have the chance to know him. Make her own opinion without mine smothering her.”

He snorted, seeming displeased at that answer. But he said nothing more on it. Instead, he ran his palm over the back of my hand, then over my wrist, before sliding it back down to my knuckles. I felt goosebumps spread up my arm at his touch, and let out a hitched breath nervously.

“You know… I’m a little jealous of your sister.”

I raised one eyebrow at him, a little surprised at the sudden change in topic. Momentarily distracted from my pain. “...Jealous? Whatever for?”

He gave me a sheepish grin. “Well… I’ve never seen you smile before…Not once… Not even a little one...” I felt my ears grow hot, “I was beginning to think you just weren’t the type… then she appears, and…” His smile grew wider, “And it was like seeing the sun for the first time…” He glanced down at our hands, and I felt him squeeze mine gently. I swallowed, following his gaze. Hesitantly, I turned my fist over slowly beneath his grip, letting him trail along to gently push my fingers apart and trace his over my exposed palm. “... You’re very handsome, did you know that?”

“...You’re just saying that to distract me.” I mumbled after a few incoherent sounds, feeling like my lips just weren’t quite ready to work right. My face scalding hot and my heart racing. ”You like making me flustered…”

His grin returned, mischievous and stretching all the way to those scarlet eyes. “Of course!” He slowly intertwined his fingers with mine. “... But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

I couldn’t find any worthwhile response to that, and so said nothing. I didn’t move, frozen perfectly still in place. Afraid to ruin the moment. Grier seemed content to run his fingers back and forth, tracing the lines in my hand and running along the edges of my fingers. His touch was so light, I almost shivered at it. He trailed up and down my hand, then over the tendons on my wrist. The carriage jostled and bounced around us, but everything seemed to move in slow motion. The only thing I could hear was my blood rushing in my ears. Then I saw him wince, and he sighed, shaking his wild hair.

“... I’m sorry… I’ve been a selfish ass… thinking it's always about me…” He sighed again, “I just thought… You really confuse me, you know?... I never know quite what you’re thinking.”

I worked up enough courage to gently squeeze his hand. “... If it makes you feel better… I-I rarely know what I’m thinking either…”

His laughter rang like music in the air around us, and I felt my blush somehow deepen. “Then it seems we are a good match, my young Prince... “ He mused as his laughter subsided into deep chuckles.

He squeezed my hand back for good measure. I saw his face fall slightly, and knew he had more he wanted to say. I waited quietly for him to sort it out, still feeling raw and restless from my own outburst.

“... I thought maybe you were ashamed of me…” He said finally, his voice shaking, “I got mad because… I thought you were starting to be comfortable with me… but as soon as you thought someone might see us…” He shrugged, lifting up his free hand to rub the back of his neck. “It’s silly, I guess.”

I faltered, looking off to the side. I drew a steadying breath, letting it out slowly. “That’s a good word for it… ashamed.” I wavered slightly, and felt my hand shiver in his. “... I am ashamed…” I felt him stiffen beside me, and I quickly shook my head. “But not of you.”

He relaxed slightly at that, though he still wore the tension in the lines of his face, and ran his thumb over the soft webbing of mine. “...Then what?”

I couldn’t bring myself to answer. My lips quivered, and I tightened them, pursing them together into a thin line. It all came to me then. Fresh and raw and exposed. I couldn’t hide it, couldn’t deny it to myself. It was in the light now, and the honesty burned into every inch of my soul, bleeding pain into each pump of my heart. He continued to rub his thumb lightly back and forth, waiting as patiently as he could muster. The carriage bumped and jerked, and I looked out the window. We were nearing the city borders again, and the sun was starting to dip towards the horizon.

“Nikostratus…” I winced at my name, but turned towards him slightly, still not meeting his gaze. “If you’re not ashamed of me… then what are you ashamed of?”

The numbness spread through my chest, threatening to stop my heart. Slowly, I raised my eyes to meet his. As they did, I felt my composure falter, felt my mask slip. His keen eyes became frantic suddenly, searching back and forth across my face. I saw the understanding light in their depths, and his brow furrowed as it did.

“You are nothing to be ashamed of,” He declared, lifting our still clasped hands together and pinning them against his chest, “Nothing, do you hear me?” I tried to turn away, feeling the emotions welling in my eyes and struggling to keep them from spilling over. But his free hand came up, catching my cheek. “You are a good person, Nikostratus. There’s nothing wrong with you. You deserve every happiness.”

I let out a sad, shuttering laugh, shaking my head. He stilled it with his hand at my cheek. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Let me convince you.” He breathed, turning me back to face him gently. “Let me spend our lives convincing you. Undoing whatever tangled knot you’ve wrapped yourself into. Undoing whatever that…” He stopped short, sucking in a breath. “... you are mine now, Nikostratus… and I won’t let you hate something that I love.”

My eyes widened at that, and I froze like a startled deer. I saw him falter in his confidence, as if the realization and weight of his own words hit him at the same time they hit me, but then it quickly returned. He met my stare head on, those scarlet eyes fierce. I almost couldn’t hold his gaze, and would have looked down had he not still had his hand at my jaw. I felt raw, exposed; weak and frayed. I didn’t know what to think. I struggled, fighting against the binds slowly wrapping around me. I began to rebuild the wall fearfully, feeling my features stiffen and harden as I did.

“Stop. You don’t have to do that,” He told me, his voice aching, squeezing my hand in his, still clutched to his chest, “You’re allowed to have emotions. You’re supposed to have emotions… You don’t have to hide them away. Especially from me.”

I faltered at that, and my efforts stilled. My mouth opened and closed a few times, and I finally managed to tear my eyes away from his. He kept his hand on my face though, and after a moment I raised my free hand. Gently laying it over his on my cheek. I hesitated for two heartbeats, counting them out, then leaned into his touch. His skin was so warm. His touch so gentle. I felt him shift even closer, until I could smell the faint hint of sage and myrrh. I wondered if he bathed in it, or just burned it in his own chambers.

“... I’m not…” I closed my eyes, shivering, then winced for having done so, “I’m not… strong enough...” I felt tears burning my eyes again, and squeezed his hand a little tighter. “Dammit… I … I just…” My mouth flapped uselessly.

“You don’t have to speak…” He murmured. “I know I’m… I know I made things more intense…” He chuckled quietly, moving his thumb along my cheekbone, “I know I’m always going to be a bit ahead of you. Especially emotionally… I’ll try not to make things worse, though-”

“You make things better.” I told him, the words spilling from my mouth before I could check them. I cringed, fearing perhaps I had overstepped. Panic rising in my breast.

When I managed to open my eyes again, to search for his across the sudden silence, I found a warm look waiting for me. It breached the numbness settling in my bones, and I took a slow, deep breath. Feeling my tension ease a little more.

“I’m lucky.” He replied after a little while. “I’m so damn lucky… This arrangement could have gone a million times worse… but instead I got you… and…” I felt his hand quiver against mine, and I squeezed it instinctively, surprised to feel it flutter. “... and to think that maybe you might…” He sighed, then his toothy, teasing smile returned. “It’s not quite the perfect happy ending though... I’m still jealous of your sister.”

I laughed weakly, shaking my head. “I’m not sure who’s more of a child… you or her…”

His grin widened at my own quiet teasing, encouraged by my laugh. “Well, it’s hardly fair! She gets more leeway than I do.” He exclaimed.

“She’s nine.”

“She calls you ‘Niko’!”

“...She’s nine.”

“So?”

“She stumbled over the word ‘treaty’ and you expect her to say ‘Nikostratus’?” I felt my lips twitch with amusement.

He pouted. “Common is my second language. If I pretend to struggle with it, can I call you ‘Niko’ too? I feel like she might be pretending. Just to keep up the pretense of ‘adorable little sister’.”

I was happy for the distraction at first, but the reminder of Morgana made my face fall slightly. He ran his thumb back along my jaw.

“I’m sorry… I don’t mean to keep bringing her up.” He murmured. “I see it’s hard for you…”

I nodded, giving a shallow sigh. “... I miss her… but…” I glanced up at him, “... Maybe talking about it… helps.” His smile warmed me again, and I swallowed hard.

“Can I ask why you call her ‘chickadee’ then?”

I curled my fingers around his, pulling them gently down from my face to rest beside our other hands I brought to rest on my knee while they were still clasped. I stared at them for a moment, the corners of my mouth twitching at the memory. I traced my thumbs back and forth over his.

“It’s a type of bird,” I explained softly, “It makes a sound, very unique to it… and when she was little… when she was a baby, she used to cry like that…” The smile stole itself onto my lips. “... chicka-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee.” I sang softly, then shook my head. “I used to come running at the sound. I would tell her… ‘I hear you, little chickadee, I’m coming’ and she would stop crying... I guess the name just stuck.”

“Was it just you caring for her?” He asked curiously, “She had no nursemaids?”

I snorted. “She did… But I wouldn’t let them near her… Not unless I really had to.”

He laughed. “A little over protective of her, no?”

“Always….” I stared down at our hands for a long moment. “She is the one good thing in my life…” I stopped, swallowing hard and shifting, “... Was the one good thing…”

“...Maybe now you can have two?” He finished for me, questioning and hesitant.

I hid a smile with another shake of my head. “I’m not sure I can be so lucky…”

A loud clatter announced our arrival at the castle as the wheels clacked over the drawbridge. I jumped nervously, then dropped his hands. Leaning away with the pretense of looking out the window again. I steadied myself, turned away from him, fixing my posture and taking a long, deep breath. I was intensely glad for the privacy charm on the windows, allowing me to look out without being observed. The smattering of goblin faces that looked up curiously as we passed had my stomach flipping in knots. I wondered what his people thought of him marrying a human prince…

We rolled up to the inner courtyard, where there were far less prying eyes, and I heard the sharp click of boots as the attendant came around. Grier led the way out of the carriage, then up the shallow steps to the castle. Ducking us quickly out of sight into the private halls. He paused there, looking over his shoulder at me as another attendant rushed to bring us a lantern.

“...Shall I bring you to your rooms, Prince Nikostratus?” He offered.

I nodded quietly, glancing at the goblin who darted over with a light. He passed it up to me with a bow, and I thanked him politely. The little thing, hardly higher than my hip, seemed delighted at my words. I watched him excitedly bounce away, curious.

“Goblins love to please.” I nearly jumped at Grier’s voice, and turned to look at him. He smiled, gesturing for me to follow him. “It is in our nature… We live for praise and recognition. Even in its simplest form.” He led the way through the halls, head cocking to the side. “All the staff are already quite fond of you, I believe”

I tried not to blush too deeply at that, quietly following after him. We didn’t speak as he led me deeper into the castle. Though I wasn’t sure if it was from hesitation, exhaustion, or simply a new found comfort in each other’s presence. I assumed it was some combination of the three, but found I didn’t overly mind. My chest was still aching, and my head seemed likely to follow suit soon. I wasn’t sure I could take any more… sharing. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to be parted from him yet either…

He stopped outside my door, standing to the side. I shifted nervously in place, playing with the handle to the lantern.

“I’ll have some food sent up,” He assured me, and at his promise I realized I hadn’t eaten all day. Then he moved as if to leave. I saw him open his mouth to impart a final passing farewell.

“Would you...” I stopped short, stiffening as the goblin turned back to face me. He raised one slender eyebrow at me, and I swallowed hard. “....Ah…” I wondered if there really were beads of sweat forming on my brow, or if it just felt like it. “W-would you like to… to come in?”

The answering grin that filled his face had my own flushing hot. He chuckled, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck. I was instantly grateful for the break in eye contact as he dropped his attention to the side. He cleared his throat.

“I… I would, of course… but,” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes, “I think I should practice that ‘patience’ thing and… and let you recharge. I’m sure you’ve had enough of my ill advised confessions and blundering emotions for one day.” He grinned again, and my heart skipped. “We should leave things on a good note for once…”

I nodded my agreement, instantly feeling foolish and flustered. I reached out and took hold of the handle. Shifting the lantern to one hand.

“...Although...” He added, almost too quickly. As though unable to resist. I froze, looking back at him as he stepped closer shyly. “Perhaps we could… we could, um... end it on an even better note…”

I wasn’t as surprised as the last time as he reached up to catch the back of my neck. I was already bent at the waist to grab the low handle of my door, so he didn’t have to stretch quite so far up to meet my lips with his. The kiss was quick, but warm, and I missed the shape of his mouth as soon as he pulled back. It left my heart racing in my ears. I felt a sudden, pulsing desire, and my palms tingled.

Grier cleared his throat again, rocking back onto the balls of his feet. “Good evening then, Nikost-”

My returning kiss was much deeper, and I found I enjoyed his surprised sputter against my lips as I cut off his departing words. I had caught his shoulder to spin him back to me, and it set him off balance. He stumbled back as I stepped forward, and I pursued him one long step until his shoulders bumped against the door-frame and I could properly curl my body around him. His hands had instinctively raised, and now rested on my chest with a feather light touch. I didn’t let up my kiss throughout the transition, and now, with proper leverage, deepened it as I wrapped my arm slowly around his waist. Pinning him between me and the wall. Savoring the taste of his mouth and the feeling of his lips against mine. My other hand held the lantern awkwardly off to the side, but I was so much bigger than him that I found it didn’t impede me in the least. Half a moment in, and I felt him melt against me, his mouth eagerly responding to the demands of mine.

I kissed him until the need of my lungs finally required me to break away. I drew in a deep breath, our foreheads still brushing together, and I felt his own breath flutter against my cheeks. Slowly, I straightened to my full height, though I lingered with my body brushing against his for perhaps a moment longer than necessary. His red eyes were like dinner plates, and I swore he was a few shades lighter than before.

I couldn’t help but give a small smile at the bewildered look on his face. And saw his eyes widen more at the sight. I winced, the smile fading slightly as I realized it was there. I rubbed the back of my neck, looking away bashfully. I would have laughed instead, yet settled for leaning back over him. He instantly tilted his head, following me. Perhaps expecting another kiss. The thunk of the handle dropping behind him beneath my grip made him jump.

“Good evening… Your Majesty.”

I stepped gracefully around him through the open door, leaving him spinning in my wake. Amused with myself despite the race of my pulse beneath my skin and the spinning lightness of my head. I would cherish that expression of his for the rest of the night. Perhaps the rest of my life, gods willing.

“Oh-ho… It’s ‘Your Majesty’ again, is it?” I heard him breathe, though light with amusement rather than his usual displeasure at the title.

Then suddenly his foot was in the door, propping it open. I looked at him, barely hiding my surprise in my usual mask of stoicism.

“Well, then, Your Highness. Since you wish to be so prim and proper:” A mischievous smirk rolled across his thin lips, and its maliciousness sent a shiver down my spine, “I hope you sleep well, you’ll need it. Because just for that stunt, tomorrow I’m bringing you to meet the Dowager Queen.”

My eyes must have widened slightly, because he took a step back. Still grinning with sharp teeth from ear to ear. With a short, tight and teasing bow, he spun on heel and marched proudly back down the hall. I thought I heard a laugh echo, but it may have just been the terror suddenly drenching me from head to toe.

… Damn it.

...

UPADATE: Part six HERE

#Royal Flush #goblin romance #goblin king #goblin lover #goblin husband #mlm #male x male #monster lover #monster royalty #monster husband #monster boyfriend #terato #exophilia #arranged marriage #slow burn #angst #monster x human

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madimpxssible · 6 years ago

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hey!! my name is jinx and i’m an amelia pond enthusiast -- i’ve been playing her for 5+ years and i just love her so much. i hope this word BLABBER makes sense!! i’ve decided to parallel some canon because why not, so see if you can catch it. please like this if you want to plot and i’ll slide into those DMs!!

Amelia Pond grew up in the Scottish Highlands for the first 5 years of her life to two Purebloods who were way in over their heads. They were Unspeakables who decided to try to bring some of their work home with them. This caused their house to become a magical black hole and as it started to break apart -- it wasn’t safe for anyone, especially not a child. Amelia was drawn to it. She was interested, she was fucking scared, she was also infinitely curious, always trying to break into her parents study where they worked, often succeeding. One night, Amy realized she was home alone much later than usual and waited on the front porch for her parents almost all day every day for seven days -- unbeknownst to her they had been on the run, having been caught smuggling their work home, hoping to shake them off and pick up their daughter when the coast was clear. Amelia waited. She brought her meals out, she dragged a mattress into the front of the house outside, some of her books and toys. No matter how cold, how wet or rainy, she waited for them. A little bit before her fifth birthday, Aurors came to seize the Ponds home, the magical artifacts and scripts they had stolen as well as their daughter. The Ponds came back, tried to fight them, needless to say this did not go well -- the Aurors eventually won, arresting them and taking Amy into custody. Luckily, they got ahold of her aunt who begrudgingly took her in.

The magic she was exposed to warped Amy’s reality -- in fact, due to it, she doesn’t remember her parents even though she sometimes desperately tries. Mentally, this has taken a huge huge toll on her and did especially as a child-- all she remembers is a piano, a few glowing cracks in her wall, and waiting for a week. Sometimes, flashes come to her in her dreams, but she doesn’t know what to trust, the feeling of them heavily disorienting her. Her aunt was a Squib and addict, who despised magical society, living on the outskirts of Godric’s Hallow in the muggle town bordering it. Every question Amy asked about her parents was ignored, she was either yelled at or met with a scowl. In primary school, Amy talked about how she’d seen magic, how she’d seen broomsticks -- everyone thought her crazy. Her teachers eventually brought her to the school doctor who recommended she saw a psychiatrist -- her aunt, who could’ve easily stopped this, who could’ve easily explained, didn’t want to intervene so she let them.

As a child, she doubted a lot of her reality but Amelia was fucking stubborn. She saw what she saw, she knew what she knew, she felt what she felt and that was that. Four psychiatrists couldn’t tell her she was telling tall tales or lying, that she was delusional -- magic was real. It was all real. She wouldn’t give up. How could she? It was the only connection to her parents, it was the only thing she knew she had of them and her childhood, these scattered memories, this random knowledge. Deemed the weird crazy girl at school -- Amy ran with it. Fuck them. She didn’t need anyone. She had her stories, she had her magic, she had herself -- that was all she needed. Spending excessive time by herself, in her own head, exploring her surroundings, she became something of a loner -- her doctors became worried about her but her aunt just wanted nothing to do with her, often leaving her to her own devices.

Some days, Amy believes meeting Rory Williams saved her life because the fact was? She needed someone to believe her. To believe in her, to love her for all that she was, crazy maybe, eccentric, loud, lively, headstrong. He did. More importantly, he believed her. Even after the doctors diagnosed her with mild psychosis ( they hoped this childhood obsession would go away soon ), he didn’t think she was crazy -- at least not in that way. He was her first friend, her best friend, when she got her Hogwarts letter, had McGonagall come to her home and explain everything -- it was the first time she weeped from relief. While Amy believed she wasn’t crazy, after being told you are, bullied, neglected, she had the deep rooted fear that maybe she was. This confirmed everything for her, this gave her purpose. Amelia was right, magic was real, and Rory was going with her. Her life was finally going in the direction of wonder, magic, everything she believed in and she started writing about it. Amelia decided on her first day, on the platform of 9 3/4 that she would now go by Amy. Amelia was the crazy girl who lost her parents, Amelia was the little girl left, the girl who waited but Amy? Amy was cool. Amy was who she’d be at Hogwarts, who she wanted to be at Hogwarts, Amy was her new life and a new chapter.

Easily, her outgoing personality, her curiosity, her brashness and her undying love and loyalty for others who earned it made Amy quite popular at Hogwarts. Being sorted into Gryffindor was perfect for her, Amy fitting into her house like a glove. Part of the Charms club since her first year, she’s extremely proficient in Charms and loves History of Magic ( even though Binns as a teacher is a snooze fest ) -- though she’s not always the best student in every subject. Amy tries, but school has never been a good place for her even if it’s magic. She had friends in every house, she was known for giving cheek as easily as professors gave homework -- her vibrant personality was for once appreciated. The girl who was a loner, who wasn’t good at playing with others, the weird girl transformed into a redheaded bombshell especially when she hit puberty. Amy had trysts with people of every gender, her popularity expanding as she talked with and met more people. Some professors found her annoying, some thought her to be effervescent and refreshing, either way she was one hundred percent undoubtedly herself. Some days, Amy cannot fucking believe that this is her life, that magic is real, that people actually like her and other days she knows it’s what she deserves, she has an extremely high regard for herself and who she is. But it fluctuates, more than she’d care to admit.

If you notice, if you really do, you’ll see the cracks underneath the surface -- the way her romantic relationships never last more than 3 months. The ways she barely drinks at parties and doesn’t touch a single drug at them. The little ways she avoids questions about her home life underneath sass, sarcasm, cheek, jokes. The fear of being left by almost everyone she loves, the fear of investing herself in someone so much only for them to leave or worse, forget about her completely. Nightmares plague her and have since she was a child, this last year she’s tried to do research on her parents, who they are, coming up short. In her seventh year, Amy is extremely scared about going into the real world, feeling like she’s not prepared at all. She loves writing, sure, but working at the Daily Prophet? An internship working for people who will most likely not appreciate her work or let her write anything actually worthwhile? Sounds shit. All of her insecurities, her fear, she hides under personality, having an extremely hard time admitting that she’d clueless about the future because it’s admitting a weakness she doesn’t want to expose.

ABUSE, NEGLECT, DEPRESSION TW. In the last few years, Amy has found herself dealing with depression which flares up especially during the summer when she’s with her aunt or really, when she’s being neglected by her aunt. Even though they moved to Godric’s Hallow, the wizarding section, a few years ago, she’ll spend a lot of time alone if she’s not with Rory or a few other friends. You can find her in her bed for days on end, sleeping, reading, writing, in her head completely, only for her to come out of it seemingly fine and like nothing happened. Being at home brings up feelings of worthlessness due to her aunt’s neglect and gets her in a very dark and bad place. Paired with her fear about entering the real world and leaving Hogwarts, Amy writes and writes and thinks about her future with both excitement and intense dread.

NOTES ( some analyzations from canon ):

One of my favorite aspects of Amy’s character is her empathy & intuitiveness. While sometimes lacking social grace and not always the best with interpersonal relations, she can see people for who they are deep down, their intentions, the emotions she feels like she feels from others often overwhelming but something that does lead her. A gut instinct magnified. She’s intuitive and empathetic because she’s got such an active imagination paired with a creative mind, she’s able to put those two things together, not only painting a picture of who someone is, painting colors on them they might not see themselves. Maybe this is a bit naive at times, maybe even a bit dangerous if it steers her wrong ( which is why Rory Williams is so important to her, her impulsiveness paired with this can get her into tough situations and he always has her back, always by her side ). Amelia is not always one to think before jumping into situations if she feels it’s the right thing to do, a prime example of this is her running off with The Doctor EASILY. Both as a kid and an adult. Luckily, not many have taken advantage of this as she can be extremely closed off emotionally. She’s a good judge of character and if she puts her faith in you, know while it could be surprising, it was a very much calculated, thought out, and a felt through choice. Amy’s extremely stubborn so good luck getting her to do something she doesn’t want to do ESPECIALLY if she doesn’t feel it’s right. Amy is usually able to connect to anyone and everyone some sort of way when she tries due to all of this, usually better with connecting to people than the ( Eleventh ) Doctor himself is.

[ EMOTIONAL NEGLECT MENTION, ALCOHOLISM MENTION ] Verbal, straightforward, blunt, but it when it comes to her emotions, the ones that hurt, the ones that can’t be wrapped in something beautiful or lightly joked about are the ones tucked away. Amy’s got serious commitment/abadonment issues as well, as shown throughout Doctor Who. I play her Aunt as a high functioning addict, growing up she was never really home much less attentive to Amy ( also due to the whole crack in Amy’s wall thing, but, that’s a whole other topic ).

Despite being a rather fearless person, due to this, she will make fear based decisions as well as decisions based on her insecurities that she’s not enough, that she’s more pain than she’s worth, out of not being able to give someone she cares about what they need. For example, when in canon Amy breaks up with Rory because she feels so guilty she can’t have biological kids when she knows he ALWAYS wanted kids. She was scared if she stayed with him, he’d hate her, that she was keeping him from having a fulfilling life, that she wasn’t enough and didn’t fit into what he wanted. Rory deserves everything to her, she couldn’t give it to him, when he gave and gave and gave to her. She didn’t feel worthy, but she didn’t express that fear either, making Rory feel completely shut out because she was shutting him out. She’ll self sabotage easily, because commitment & abandonment are scary to her and she’d rather be the one leaving than being left. Amy can’t stand to wait for the worst to happen, for the other shoe to drop, she isn’t the fucking girl who waited – not anymore.

Amy is diagnosed with major depressive disorder previously diagnosed with psychotic features added on as well until the Doctor came back but after having 4 psychiatrists in her youth, Amy definitely fits into having MDD. There are many evidences in canon besides her literally going to psychiatrists that suggest that Amy is mentally ill / ND, another hint in the episode ‘Vincent and The Doctor’. Amy empathizes with Vincent Van Gogh ( my Amy is an extreme art history lover as well, especially Vincent Van Gogh ), she says she’s been where he is, that she gets it. [ SUICIDE MENTION ] She is physically effected when he talks about dark shit and in another episode with the Dreamlord, she talks about how she doesn’t want to live in a world if Rory’s not in it, then killing herself in the show. The way she does it in my head ( and in the show ) is extremely steely, easily done, because Amy has dealt with mental illness, because she’s been in dark places & suicidal ideation. [ END OF SUICIDE MENTION ] In this RP, I have her as mentioned dealing with depression and such too though not yet having reached out for help for it, Yet.

SHE IS A SAGITTARIUS and it fits her perfectly.

#intro.#i really tried to make this shorter! but i have EMOTIONS!

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