#I am NOT facing the King like this. I refuse. I'd rather die.

[defender-of-jouvente]

Aww, don't worry about your face. It looks like you just came back from a county fair - in a good way, of course...

You'll get your revenge on stardust at some point, don't fret your little fighting head~.

Y'really think so, random stranger on the internet?

Wait, star what now?

[darlingofvalyria]

❝I have these two great friends called Birth and Control.❞

part 06 | it's called a love bug, lovebug

chapter summary:

[ Sunday dinners are actually made for confessions. As Alicent braves it with a wine and a blush, you brave it too. With a boy and a view. ]

[ 2,963 ] [ series masterlist ] |best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— angst - hurt/minimal comfort(?) - no kings, no martyrs, no betas.

a/n— alexa play it's all coming back to me now by celine dion. it might read a little stilted, i struggled a bit with this chapter as i wrote it in different times. ps. i didn't translate aemond's valyrian with intention. hope it still works? comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

You had never heard of a more reverbrating sound than Helaena's smack to a poor, traumatised Daeron. "You toe licking, armpit looking, ugly garbage can!" Healeana shrieked, promptly dragging her youngest brother further away as you and Aemond scurried deeper into the safety of the darkness and shame, folded defensively onto one another, laughing your asses off.

"Oh my god," you exhale. "I am never going leaving this maze. I am going to live here, eating brambles and shit, and die here. Leave me now and prevail, Aemond. I will be fine. I'll haunt you in two to three business days."

Aemond chuckles from below you, unseen from your gaze, the mesmerised adoration he held as he can still feel his lips tingling from your desperation, still feel the curves of your body, the soft skin— he clears his throat, holding you steady by your hips before moving around until he's hovering over you as you adjusted your dress, eyes fluttering his with pressed lips trying not to laugh.

"I have a feeling dinner is ready."

"I also have a feeling your mother and grandfather knew exactly what we were doing minutes before and I fear I'd rather die here than face that."

He laughs, offering his hand and you take it regardless. "Then my mother would be glad. She didn't exactly feel the new bliss of couples between us."

You scoff. "Only because you treated me like you were cosplaying a Frost Giant." At his raised eyebrow and choked, surprised laugh, you blush. "Oh, get off with it. Your sister really likes the idea of Jotun!Loki and I am not one to kinkshame."

He strangles a laugh, peeling stray twigs from your hair. "I wouldn't dare assume. Let's go eat."

You tighten your hold on his hand, worry crescent on your forehead that Aemond straightens. "And talk?" As good as that felt, as perfect as puzzles sliding in together, you were past the age where burrowing it deep with the good parts and ignoring the pressing talks that need to be addressed.

And Aemond deserved better than that at least.

"Okay." He nods, swallowing. "Later, please."

"Okay." You try and reassure him with a smile and that seems to appease him, if a little.

Once Aegon had made five jokes concerning Daeron's loud rant— he was promptly shut up by his sister smacking him in the back of the head as soon as their mother was fretting in the kitchen and their grandfather's phone pinging for his attention, spoon on his mouth that might have been a medical nightmare — dinner went smoothly.

Daeron had successfully refused to look at your general direction, or his brother, or both since you sat together, churlish in giggles, in chatter and light arguments. Aemond kept taking the nicely marinated baby potatoes on his plate to yours once you finished up your own, and exchanged it with shuffling green beans to his plate because he loves them— it's nice.

It's more than nice. It's everything you could hope for when you think about dinner with your boyfriend's family. It's a softened thought that brews to yearning. You want this. You want be sat next to Aemond like this again, making jokes, piling food onto each other's plate, ribbing with his brother until he blushed then standing up against him when it got too far— seeing the smile he sends your way, endearing, loving, and for a moment, for this one realised moment built on lies and chuckle-fuckery ease, you let yourself indulge.

You joke about spoon feeding him dessert and blush as he envelops his soft lips over the spoon, Daeron and Aegon mimicking gags while Alicent is blushing, unable to stop a girlish giggle, a sound so surprised to her own person that she hiccups.

You are with him and you give yourself strength to break his heart.

Dinner finishes off with a lazy flick, Alicent and his father descending into business talks that usually included Aemond and though you tell him you can go hang out with Helaena— Daeron and Aegon deciding on playing The Last of Us in the game room because Aegon said he needed a good cry but also to shoot things — Aemond who had taken your hand sometime ago and has been brushing his thumb over your knuckles in a soothing gesture, implores you with a look.

You swallow and give a nod, trying for another smile that fails, noticing the moment Aemond sees it fail, his brow curling, lips pursing but doesn't say anything.

As he moves to lead, he pauses, turning back to you. "Where—?"

"Your room?"

Just as he nods, Alicent's soft and embarrassed, "Keep the door open, please," pulls you both to a blushing stop.

Otto— and Helaena rifling through ice cream in the kitchen — crow simultaneous, "Alicent," and "Mom!" as Alicent raises both her hands, the wine in her right sloshing. Though she is pink-cheeked, she maintains eye contact with her son while Aemond is struggling.

"I know you're old and smart enough, young man, and you are such a lovely girl," Alicent says to you, "and I would no doubt adore the grandchildren you will provide me—"

"Oh my gods," you stifle your giggles as Aemond makes a discordant sound in the back of his throat, like a cat hacking a saw. Otto is laughing into his wine while Helaena is making gagging noises in the background.

"— but I hope to have them when Aemond's at least graduated, so that he can provide well for you." Alicent nods, blinking. You can tell that the wine is catching up to her. "He's a good boy so I'm sure he'll do right by you. But I at least want you both to be married, of course, I would prefer if Aegon or Helaena got married first but—"

"— and that's my cue to stage left, folks," Helaena says, making a face as she grabs the entire tub of cookies and cream. "If anyone needs me, I'm in my room trying to find a husband so my baby brother can get married, gods forbid he carries on with bastards from his beautiful girlfriend— whomst, by the way, is my best friend, dunno how we're forgetting my credit in all of this."

Aemond shakes his head. "They're not sleeping here, mom, and providing you grandchildren is not in my agenda." He tugs your hand, smirking as he pulls you close only to whisper playfully, "Not tonight at least."

You shiver, laughing under your breath. "I dunno if you know this, but I have these two great friends called Birth and Control."

He breaks into a laugh and that, at least, eases the tension until you round up in his room, trying to give Helaena a meaningful look but you don't think she understands it with how she salutes you with her spoon, winking audaciously.

"Here." Aemond flicks the light on and his childhood bedroom brings a smile to your face. It's cerebral, the faint blue of his textured wallpaper, the perfectly lined books, even the framed achievements. But there's also the Oasis poster, the little figurines that you know is part of some Old Valyrian battle replica he collected when he was younger, even his old fencing gear and an exact photo of it alongside his club master, his grandfather, and family friend, Criston Cole.

"It's been a while since I've been here," you tease lightly. "It's kind of funny of your mom to think I'd be the first hot girl to christen your childhood bed."

He hums, turning away as he closes the door. When he turns back, he's rolled back his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks at you with sincerity.

"It wouldn't be much of a competition to beat. You were the first hot girl I'd ever got inside my room."

"Ahh. Right. Teasing you before your growth spurt was the highlight of my week."

Aemond let out an aggressive sigh as you laugh. "I was a senior in high school when I met you, riña, this is getting ridiculous. Borderline paedophilic since I had you moaning an hour ago."

You heave, slapping his arm. "Okay, stop, you made it weird now. Gross. Eugh."

"Promise you'll stop now?"

"Fine, I promise."

An awkwardness settles before Aemond nods at the double French doors. "Wanna talk on the patio? You've always liked my room's view than Lae's."

"Yeah," you grin.  "'Cos you got the only view of the lake."

"You can barely see it with the trees. And this darkness." Reason out all he wants, but he opens the door for you, and the cool air is crisp and nice against your warm skin.

You hold out on the ledge, squinting your eyes so you can see peeks of luminous bounce of the calm lake between dark sways of forest. Once in a while, it glitters and glimmers, making itself known.

"It isn't fully true though."

"What is?" Aemond fixes his elbows, warmth pressed against yours as he stares at a fixed point of nowhere. But you can feel his tension, feel his questions he's trying to be patient to keep in. You're glad for it. Grateful. Because it gives you enough courage to confess.

"I hung out in your room because I liked hanging out with you," you admit. "Teasing you was the highlight of my day."

"Gee. Thanks."

"I was more surprised you kept letting me hang out with you when I did nothing but annoy you."

"Why do you think that is, ñuha riña?" he asks softly.

"Because you're sweet?"

The way he's looking at you... it makes you breatheless. Especially when he moves to turn fully toward you, taking you by your elbows, and you close your eyes when he leans in expecting his mouth on you, your heart dancing in the palm of his hand because it feels so, so easy to trust Aemond with it, instead he presses his lips underneath your eye, nuzzling against your nose. It shatters and remakes your heart, making you hold onto his shirt for some semblance of comfort.

"Because I've always liked you," he whispers against your skin as if it's his best kept secret. "Because I'm weak when it comes to you. Because you," he breathes against your mouth, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a tug, "make it easy to want you."

A weak laugh escapes your lips and his mouth follows the sound as if he wants to swallow it, but you press a palm to his chest. He growls.

"Easy there, tiger, that didn't sound much like a compliment."

He pulls back, holding your face. "Sorry, shit, I didn't mean— I'm not good at this. I meant... you're unattainable. Not just as Helaena's best friend but... you're cool, you're fucking gorgeous and incredibly hilarious."

"Ñuha jorrāelagon." He breathes care into the word. The word is lost on me and I force my brain to pocket it like a love letter so I can search it up. "I never thought I could be here, touching you like this." Without warning, he moulds his lips to yours in a harsh, deep kiss. It's quick but it leaves you breathless, his voice coming up ragged. "Kiss you like this. It feels like I'm in a dream and I'm struggling to let go of it. So a while ago... after..."

You nod, pressing your forehead against his, unable to look at him in the eye. You focus on touching him, your hands sliding down, making him shiver when you go underneath his shirt, skating his side until you warm your cool fingers with his spine.

"That's the thing, Aemy," you whisper. "In your head, by your words, I'm always a version to you."

 He calls your name, leaning back and you're forced to see the confusion on his face.

"Helaena's best friend. Past that, an unattainable crush. Now a fake girlfriend. Someone you use to get Alys' attention, and who better than the unattainable crush? It's a pedestal, Aemy."

"It's not like that, that was a bad, convoluted—"

"But it's the truth, it's how I feel. And though that sucks, I understand." You take his hands as you step back and he's frowning harder, the lines deepen and his jaw is tight. "I knew what I was getting into, you know? But things change because I've changed."

 "It's Cregan, isn't it?" he snarls, tugging his hands away.

"Oh, you jealous idiot, it's you! We've gone over this, you incredible dumbass!"

"Me? How the hell is this about—"

"— because I love you!" you shout. Then stop, inhale. Blink. Aemond copies it. It's almost hilarious. "Or I know I can be."

He works his jaw, turning away. "I don't understand."

"Okay, here it is." You inhale. "Just listen and breathe for a second, okay? Okay? Don't turn away from me." You pull him back by his chin, smiling faintly at the pout you form. "Say you understand."

He sighs, taking your hand. "Yes, I understand."

"I can't compete with someone you've loved for so long," you start softly, staring at your conjoined hands wondering if this is the last time you'll get to hold him like this. "Without you showing you can love me for more than that. I can't compete with your own ideal happy ending if I'm not part of it. I won't. I refuse." Your smile is wry, it's heartbreak and it's strings. You wish you had the energy to scream, to act like a brat and demand his heart, his promises in gold-ink and pink-veined hue. It's what your heart wants.

But you're of big age. You've seen love in its spaces, how it takes root in people, how it affects the world around you.

And you know you cannot love him if he does not make the effort to love you in the same way.

Your heart is in your throat but the words come out anyway. "Because I love you, Aemy. And I know I can fight for you. I can fight for what we have. I can wake up tomorrow and choose to love you with the same degree, if not fiercer, if I could. And I could do that again and again. That's how love works. You have to wake up tomorrow, see me, and choose to love me all over again."

You smile gently, sadly. "I can't allow myself to be loved in halves. I've done that before, I'm not doing it again. Not even for you."

You bring yourself on your tip toes— damn tall, beautiful rat bastard — and brush your lips on the corner of his. His eye closed. "I'm not going to pressure you for an answer. Alys was... Alys is a big part of what you know is love, and I respect that. I understand that it'll be hard, but I need to know if you're willing to let go of it for me. Because I can promise you I can love you. But I won't. Not without assurance that you can try for me."

"What are you asking me?" he asks softly, straightening. There's a hard line going into his body, like a dutiful student given an assignment.

"I'm asking you to think if you can see past the little statue you've made of me. See me breathing. Alive, just like this." You press a hand to his face and retrieve it back before he can hold it. He shots you a look of betrayal. "I'm going home with Hel. You know how to message me, okay? Bye, dōna zaldrīzes."sweet dragon.

His eye flick upward, shock and heartbreak and confusion moulds and twists into such a beautiful blue, mouth agape trying to find words he can't find— and you smile wryly, turning away and leaving.

You get to Helaena's door quick, knocking soon after.

"Hmph!"

 "You're either getting choked by a robber or masturbating, and really Hel, I need you to make two grunts to tell me the former so I can bust down the door because I don't want to see you bust a—"

The door swings wide, Helaena's face in a comical irritation.

"That is so fucked up, I hope you know— hey, hey." Her irritation sweeps into a frown as you fail to contain your watery eyes. "What happened? What's wrong? What did Aemond do? Oh, that little twerp—"

"— it's not him, it's not him, chill, I just wanna go home, yeah? Get our cakes and go, please?"

Hel's frown deepens, eyes darting back to Aemond's door.

"Please, Helaena," you beg. "I'll tell you when we get home. I'll make us special drinks."

She takes your hand, determination wound tight with concern. "Sure thing, babe. Let's go."

When you make your hasty departure to her grandfather of all of them, Alicent already in bed and the other boys still in the gaming room, cakes in hand, you tow over Helaena's baby blue buggy— she leans over at you with a hand on the ignition, whispering as if she was afraid, "You— are you meeting Cregan tonight? After, I mean." Her eyes widen. "I'm not judging, I'd never—"

"No, no, I understand. You'd never judge me for that, I know. But no. Just you and me tonight."

She smiles softly. It's not like Aemond's but they don't look that apart that it still stings. "Love you."

"Love you too, lovebug."

Loving Helaena isn't hard.

Just as you know loving Aemond wouldn't be, despite it all. But it isn't you that has issues that needs handling, and you've put everything in his court now.

And yet you can't deny your hope.

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[archangelsixteen]

my heart is a dove. January 2023

Forever in my spirit, the one I surrendered over, I wish for her to be saved in my place. For I could not provide anything for her to at least leave her soul with me, so she parted. 

The pond down the street from my house, slightly hidden by a hill. A spring afternoon is our interaction. Something in me shifted, I couldn't tell what it was at the moment. I have seen the back of her head before, on the days I've walked by. Just like the siren I am pulled to her, though I am too afraid of myself to surrender. In recent planning I have considered today to be my day, today is the day I will face her. She was staring into the pond, even in my arrival she didn���t move. But then she looked at me. She did look at me, it is hard to believe but she did. I had seen her face and felt an energy from the divine. Inside the brain that was doomed to malfunction was a disconnection from body to mind. How she moves her eyes to mine and my heart starts to compulse, what a coincidence. I felt like I was familiar with her face yet I remember anything about her. Will she let me hear her voice? 

On opposite sides of what seems like the sea, she feels so far. Her gaze is like the heat of the sun, I'm burning under her command. The sunset is reflecting off the pond, her eyes look red from the glow. Something like a devil, I was bound to be her forbidden angel. I wish she would come closer, I want to remember her face. Take this fruit from me, I can carry this burden of being evil.

When she stood, I could feel my chest expanding. As if something was growing, the weight of the world crashed down just inside my body. She walked towards me, I'm sorry I can only try to calm down. Sat down next to me, the nausea arises in my stomach. Upon arrival I wanted her to save me, but I’m a sick man. So sick I based her resolve on how she looked at me. 

My heart beat changed, it became constant and so, so loud; like wings flapping in my chest. My body shakes against itself, consumed by weariness and a mutation inside me I struggle to keep down. Her presence ran a harp through my ears, I heard nothing but beautiful music when I would go to look at her. So loud, I can barely catch what she was saying. No expression of mine showed. Her muffled voice, I can’t comprehend her at all.  My face refused to meet hers. Let the wind blow, do not speak a word. I'm scared. there’s a knock on my chest hard enough to break me open. Am I stupid? I Speak. “ Okay “ 

The music she started throughout my ears, I could do nothing but pay attention. I’d rather be killed dead just upon this grass than to let myself forget the melody but when I was able to hear her voice there was no difference. Perhaps I had started to die at that moment, my tombstone ridden in destiny just for her. There was no use. “ Are you alright? '' I am not so sure, I nod my head. She believes me. I had thought I'd seen her face before, her voice, from my dreams. In the back of my mind there was a chest locked with her in it.

We did not talk for the few other antagonizing moments, we sat in silence as if our voices would run off with the wind. Her presence brought weight, I simply brushed it off for the sake of this moment.  I didn't sleep this night, or the many nights after. I was cursed with wings in my chest, an idea so confusing I could not object to it. I simply decided to call my heart a bird, a bird that was bound to fly away soon. Nevertheless, disregarding everything, I continued coming to the pond to see her. 

Now weeks passed with her existence in my mind. I kick at walls when the bird refuses to rest. Pressure has started to consume my body from inside out, everything is heavier. Yet I carry my body to her, to the pond. I am a fool, to simply put it. For everyday I ignored the beating, as if the bird  was taunting me, the beating  grew louder. I was lucky ‘the king’ never noticed. 

I am the definition of ill, unfit to carry this human vessel. I'm exhausted though I must carry on.  I’m on the brink of psychopathic, I'm aware. The person in the mirror knows me but I cannot recognize them. I pick up the toothbrush cup and launch it at the reflection, I don't need it anymore. I am planning to forget myself from now on. 

She spends her months gracing me with her presence. Oh, how lucky I am. We meet only during sunsets, the air around her is permanently red. It feels like her insanity is contagious, the sickening heart beats faster to where I grow nauseous. When she smiles at me, I wish to die. She talks around in circles, saying a lot but nothing at all. Routine for us. She lets my name roll off of her lips. Temptation, oh how my lover wants to kill me. The jewelry swinging from her ears blinds me viciously, still I kept her in my line of vision constantly. I was afraid she would slip past me too fast if I did not. we’ve had meaningless conversations that will truly mean nothing in the end. I apologize, that is all I can do. 

When I close the night with thoughts of her, it's followed by the loud thumping of the wings in my chest. I've been exceedingly plagued by this. I feel as if i’ll die if I stay around her much longer, though i’m willing to love her for the price of suicide. I want to hear her voice. 

My body is no longer my own, I must accept that. The love of my life, please take control of me. To be in your world forever is my wish, wherever you go I shall remain. I suck in a breath and cough up blood onto my bedroom floor, I'm positive this is my curse. The passing of spring brought an increase in agony. I like to think I am blooming from within despite the contrary. The summer heat keeps me up, as well as the dove. How tragic we are as a pair, I hope one of us sees the end of this. 

How scary it is, the human willpower to wake up everyday, however I was losing mine. I don't want everyday to be for her, but I can't think of anything else. Mornings didn’t exist to me anymore since my days began at 3pm. Even so, I could never tell when the 24 hour cycle restarted, the pain is screwing with my comprehension. I didn't remember the scabs on my wrist, the dead skin under my nails from scratching, but it was all there in front of me. Breaking my body apart, I'm failing to comprehend the consequences. 

I am liable to leave her, I knew I was. I knew when I left, her essence would remain with me no matter what transpires, this is what scared me most. Everytime we meet I stare at the pond and wait for her to leave. Am I considered to be selfish? Only time will truly tell

I feel as if I'm waking up later by half an hour everyday. From 3:30pm to 4:00 pm to 4:30 pm and so on. The bird is inconvenient, how it keeps me away. I don’t wake up until it allows me. Another thing to obey. My hiccups are filled with blood, my mouth is a pool of it. Swallow it back, everything I want to say is down. My mind has gone abstract, or to anyone else, I have gone insane. 

I rinse and repeat the madness everytime I arise, the same way I rinse my mouth. The pond has become greyer, it’s 6:30 pm in the middle of summer. Perhaps I can no longer see the brightness however, in my condition i do not see the benefit of caring. I can no longer see passion because it has consumed my insides. I'm sure my brain is scattered, or for matter of fact it might be that my brain is drowning within itself. My headache is everlasting, I can feel liquid seeping through the cracks. 

The grass feels like glass shards on my skin. I’m strung out, every moving part hurts. She’s still here, I can tell she’s been waiting. I took my place beside her and said nothing. She looks to me, then to the pond. To the ground, then to the sky. In the end her eyes land to her hands and she starts her confession just minutes after my arrival. “ I love you “, the simple words cracked me down in the middle. A shiver down my spine and my jaw is locking up. I try to keep him down. I cannot speak to her, I cannot open my mouth in this state. my love is trapped with the blood pooling in my throat, just on the edge of spilling out. I grab her hand in an attempt to show her, skin to skin but it's not the same as voice to voice. I'm not able to apologize, silence has become my friend while I resent the noise. The beating, birds chirping, I resent every other voice the world has to give me but hers. But now after she's told me something so wonderful, she is hiding her gift from me, she refuses to speak. The grip we have on each other’s hands will never be enough, perhaps that fact will kill us dead. 

Time goes by in silence, she begins to leave. Standing so tall to stretch out to the sun, I bet she could catch it and make it hers. She looks my way, there’s a dagger to my chest. She's hurting me this way. She's killing me, she's killing me. I pray for her to leave before I combust into pieces, my heart waiting for the moment to get away from me and my body. She invades my space, her face so close to mine. It hurts like needles, it hurts like the sting of heroin and there's acid in my blood. She takes my soul through my mouth, my first kiss she's blessed me with. This is how she parts, I'm on the verge of self mutilation. My body falls back onto the grass. Pain coursing so fluently through my veins as if it was my mother-tongue. I grasp my heart like it's close to flying away, my back cannot bear to touch the ground. Im coughing at the taste of her, my blood projecting into the air and onto the grass our feet have been buried in. Thrashing, thrashing against myself, against anything. I try to grip my hair to anchor me down but the red sea washes over me, all I know is to shout and cry. my pool is of blood and the liquid is filling up my brain, it's drooling out of my mouth. I want to sleep after this moment, she's given me all I am able to take. I'm afraid there will be nothing of me in due time. It doesn't matter if I die, when the morning comes please let her still be mine. That is my one wish.

I am a tornado, considerably the worst natural disaster. I feel hot and I take it in with the cold. I spend nights in dreams begging for her to retrieve me, revive me but it’s no use. I am not speaking nonsense, the world is ending within my heart. I wonder if I could attach myself to her from the afterlife. I know I am to be killed soon, whether I do it first does not matter. Though I no longer fear what lies ahead of me, do I deserve to see her before I go? I am not sure.

Scratching when I think of her, scratching scabs, scratching for no reason at all. The circles my mind goes in just lead me straight back to her. For months it's been like this and it's looking to continue until the end. I take my last look at everything. My broken mirror, my blood stains dried on every surface, the feathers, the smell, my window that is wide open. The dull but beautiful sunshine outside of my window. The sun’s heat strikes my body but only for a second. Only for a second I am alive again.

The walk to the pond felt excruciatingly longer. As if I was dragging dead weight with me, as if there was something attempting to stop me from arriving. Everything was beginning to mean nothing to me and everyone in my way was only a nuisance. Please make way, I need to see my love before there's not another chance left. 

As I walked towards our tree it began to all make sense. I understand it now, I wish I had heeded the warning. the green tinted water, the duck and the pigeon. the leaves and the grass, they were all there. But she was not. She was no longer with me at all. She instead hung from the lowest branch of the biggest tree. Long lost and gone, never found within the time I left. The folding chair kicked on its side, melted into the wet grass. her head hung, I had no strength to lift up her head or get her down . 

My mind did not register the abnormal beating in my stomach until blood seeped from my mouth onto the grass. The ducks and pigeons watched it fall curiously, but they knew not to investigate. My skin was ripping from inside out, no matter how much I tried to calm it down I could not bear the massacre happening below me. I could not ignore it for the life of me, or what was left of it. the wings felt like propellers the way it ripped its way through my throat, I wouldn’t be able to speak any last words in that moment even if I tried my hardest to connect my dying mind with hers. I am in love with her, the bird guts me as I think it; I love you.

 I drove myself up and down walls, I destroyed myself until the dove in ripped its way right through me. My life was being taken away from me by force. Right in front of the last person I wanted to see my gruesome ascension. I destroyed myself in front of the body that was no longer inhabited by my love. To destroy myself for her, I could not have possibly been meaner. I can recall the taste of her soul even though I am losing my senses. All I’ll ever see is you in this end.

Feeling in my lower body weakens, I fall like thunder. My body stops working from the bottom up. The bird bursts out, everything within me combusts. A dove flies away, a symbol of my heart no longer being able to function. Fish out of water, upon the grass of this pond is where I will be for entirety. She will stay above me like a god

I guess somewhere inside of me I knew she would kill herself, perhaps that is why the dove never escaped until she. Even though it was killing me, I still felt remorse. The pigeons peer and pick at my body, redden their beaks and feathers from getting too close. The pond has been tainted. two suicides, two dead lovers. The dove sheds my body like a cocoon, leaving behind feathers in its wake.

[dusk-army-blog]

"So, another 'hero' breaches the keep," Sir Lain called out to the young man at the base of the grand staircase. The general sighed and began his descent, the jangling of plate and chain punctuating his every step. "To what do I owe the intrusion this time? Wait, don't tell me; I'd like to guess first." Stopping at the first landing, he looked over the intruder. Leather armor, no crest. Neither shield nor helmet. Sword slung over the shoulder like a common tool, Lain observed, No more than seventeen. A mere child. "Your farm was destroyed when Queen Wyndall took the throne, your parents slain before you were even allowed to know them. You desire vengeance for them, their countrymen, and everyone else crushed beneath the heel of my lady's boots. Am I wrong?"

The boy's face twisted into a snarl. "Don't mock me, Lain!" he shouted, swinging his worn blade for emphasis, "Your queen and her ambitions took everything from me! And you helped her do it! With you gone, the rightful ruler of our country shall be restored!" Sir Lain chuckled at that last part.

"Ah, of course," the general replied, "How could I have forgotten the missing piece? You've been trained by old 'Lord' Brian, have you?" He tapped his fingers against the stone railing as he continued his descent. "How quaint. Let's see if he trained you any better than the last two 'heroes'."

The boy began to charge up the stairs, rearing his arms back to strike with his sword, but Lain leapt toward him rather than away, sending both of them crashing to the bottom. "That would be a 'no', then," he commented as he stood up, "Attacking an opponent with a height advantage? How did you even get past my worst soldiers?" The boy stumbled to his feet, using his sword as a crutch. "Drop your blade, child. There's still a way out of this where you live."

"Never!" the boy said, returning to a fighting stance, "I'd rather die free than live another day under your tyranny!"

"That's a shame," SirLain sighed. The general drew his sword with a slow motion, forcing every inch of steel to scrape against the scabbard in the hopes of demoralizing his opponent. "You remind me of my younger days," he commented as he entered his stance, "Brash, driven, nothing to lose. A child indebted to a remnant of a bygone kingdom. Many would say, we're not so different. And yet, they'd be so, terribly, wrong."

The general stepped forward, feinting a swipe from the right. The boy moved to parry it, falling right into the trap. With his left hand, Lain grabbed his opponent by the wrist and turned, using the momentum to force the boy to the floor. "Agh!" the boy cried out as the general pressed an armored knee against his back.

"You don't even know why you're here, boy," Lain said, forcing his captive's head to the side to look at the engraving in the floor. "Do you see this crest? It belongs to Queen Wyndall. This is her castle, by right of birth. Your fool of a mentor, Brian, served the king who deposed her father, just as I serve the queen who deposed him. I should have executed him when I had the chance."

"LIES!" the boy shouted. He struggled against the general's grasp, which only prompted the latter to drag him from the floor and tie his arms with the cord from a nearby curtain. "You killed my father! I'll never forgive you!"

"It was a war," Sir Lain replied, "I neither need nor desire your forgiveness. The gods will judge me for my actions when the time comes. As for you..." The general stepped back to recover the boy's sword and pointed it at his throat. "You're a pawn in a decade long game, the last of many being sacrificed by a player that refuses to admit he lost, a sad old man's vain attempt at taking one more piece before he's forced into checkmate." The boy closed his eyes as the general raised the blade above his head, waiting for the inevitable, then winced as he heard the clatter of steel against steel. Sir Lain had bent the sword over his knee, snapping it in two. "I'm going to do what I should have done to the last two. I'm going to make you live to see why you're wrong."

[theroundbartable]

Fuck yeah, this is exactly it. I love when people point out musical themes, because I may be classically trained in an instrument, but I am so bad at audio understanding, holy shit. I only have a few minor things to say and eh... Yeah well, tell me what you think, but don't take me too seriously, please XD :

A) first of all, Gwen IS mentioned in the final episode. It's when Arthur gives Gaius his royal sigil to pass it on to Gwen. THAT is the goodbye. The entire episode is Gwen learning that her husband will not come back, but that he trusts her with the kingdom. And that she learns Merlin is being there for him as he always was and she understands and, to quote her: she is "pleased".

B) which is why I will repeat what I've said in other posts: Arthur loves both Merlin and Gwen. But differently. His Relationship with Gwen is build on mutual interests and ideas and visions for the kingdom. That's why she is the queen. Because she loves the kingdom and so does Arthur.

Arthur and Merlin love each other on a more individual and personal level. What really stands between them are Merlin's lies and that's why Arthur only falls for Merlin in the final episode when the truth is finally out. (This is where this beautifully aligns with OP.)

C) i don't think Gwen is annoyed or displeased by Merlin being there. She knew what she was getting into when she married Arthur. It's established in the farm scene that Arthur only comes as a package deal with Merlin. And I think Gwen didn't mind that. I think it amused her and she wanted Arthur to admit it in the date scene mentioned above, because Arthur is stubborn and they both have to deal with his idiocy.

D) In season 5 episode 12, when she's in bed with Arthur, they aren't in Camelot. And while I agree that the two of them have a rather chaste marriage, this scene is shot at the front line of war. They think they will die tomorrow and Arthur suddenly having a vision of Merlin isn't concerning because he's having a sexual dream about him. It's that Merlin warns him in his sleep of Morgana's trap and Arthur takes it seriously enough to actually listen to it, while he'd usually dismiss anything Merlin says. I think Gwen is just as surprised as Arthur is that a dream like that makes him react so fast. She isn't upset about a potential love triangle, she's been too long in this relationship to know what Arthur thinks. It's the upcoming war and the shared concern for Merlin who is not with them at that time that puts that expression on her face. I don't see jealousy there, tbh. Also, the dream could have easily been a magic trick of Morgana, so Gwen's worry has, in my opinion, more layers than jealousy. Gwen has far more character in the show than to be reduced to a secondary love interest. She is a queen, and she acts like it and thinks like it and expresses like it too. There is little room for sexual enthusiasm in that scene and I find it very relieving to see that the show took that moment seriously for what it was. I'd even argue that if this HAD BEEN a sex scene, then I'd agree with OP's statement above that Gwen's reaction would be seen as jealousy and confusion about their relationship.

E) I have never, in my entire life, seen a scene that makes a Leon/Gwen ship reasonable. And while I am open to hear it out, I will forever refuse to accept it. Nuh uh. NOTP!!! Aro/Ace immortal Leon for life, baby. Lmao, sorry, but this is a headcanon I will defend with my life. xD u can still ship it, of course.

F) what a creator says about a show is not canon. You can fight me on this take, but if the source material does not show it, then it's simply not a thing. The word 'author' comes from the word 'authority' and refers to the person who has the authority over a text. pre printing history, there was no such thing as authorship. There were composers of texts there were scribes and kings who had influences over these texts, because they had influcences over the scribes, story and composer, and no one put their name under it... or rarely at least. The idea of a text belonging to some individual came after printing was invented. And today we have editors and lectors. In movies we have script writers, set designers, editors, actors, directors and so on and so forth and all of them have a certain power over the story. Bbc merlin would have been different, had we not had Katie McGrath as Morgana, Bradley James as Arthur, Colin Morgan as Merlin and Angel Colby as Guinevere. So who has the power over the show? Over the characters? Who can tell you who is what? Who does what? Who feels what?

We're working with these texts and scenes and designs and we are the ones analysing what is happening. So we have to differenciate between these things. Now, we, as the Community, have authority as well. Because now that the show is over, we have the power over the given canon. So, I personally love what the directors and actors say, but not all they say aligns with the show. So, if Bradley James says: 'Merthur bromance wins over Arwen romance' we can agree to that because it aligns with the show.

If the director says, Gwen now has Leon, but I don't see it in the show, my headcanons are just as valid as his are and just as correct. Which is also why my disagreements are not contradicting, but parallel to OP's post.

Thank you for reading^^ feel free to add your own thoughts.

Merlin BBC UK TV Show - A Psychological Analysis Series Part 8

“ The deterioration of Arwen in season 5”

My biggest takeaway from Season 5 is how the Arwen ship was dismantled piece by piece by the show creators.

In season 5, Arthur and Gwen are married, but their relationship was shown to be exceedingly formal, chaste, without true communication and lack of personal touch. Let me elaborate:

Formal : They never kiss in season 5 !!!!!!!!!!

2. Chaste : Arthur and Gwen are always shown completely dressed even in the bedroom

whereas other couples are shown in a more sexually charged light than them.

Shirtless Gwaine and Eira who are not married

3. Lack Of Communication : Scene From Season 5:

Gwen: I know you sometimes desire time alone away from me… If you don’t wish me to accompany you I’d rather you told me yourself than have Merlin do it

4. Lack of Personal Touch :

It looks more like an intentional reference to the episode where Arthur and Gwen first kissed:

Arthur: I can kill a chicken from a thousand paces, just don’t ask me to cook it. That’s what servants are for.

Gwen: I’m not ashamed to be a servant. At least I’m not a liar.

Arthur: We had a nice meal together. What does it matter where it came from?

Gwen: Because I thought you’d shown some humility. You had done something kind for me even though I’m just a servant.

NOW THAT BEGS THE QUESTION, WHY WOULD THE CREATORS DO THIS ?

In cannon stories, Arthur and Gwen are married. Gwen has an affair with Lancelot. Their affair brings about the fall of Camelot.

In the TV series, Lancelot is dead, so the series creator try to highlight another love triangle

GWEN ------------------ARTHUR---------------- MERLIN

They could have Gwen out of this scene, but they didn’t. And if you know how these things are shot, then you also know it wasn’t a mistake on the filmmakers part, it was on purpose.

There are always 3 people in this marriage, and I don’t think that Gwen is very happy about that, even though she doesn’t always voice it out loud:

Gwen’s dissatisfaction of her marriage shows in the Dark Tower episode. Gwen: “Arthur doesn’t tell me anything”. And it wasn’t just a flippant statement.

It all plays into her greatest fears (as Morgana confirmed once again: “The mandrake root is cruel. It pierces the depths of your soul, twisting your unconscious into the very image of fear and dread.”)

So why would Gwen fear her husband lying and mocking her the most? As well as her brother and Arthur’s knight Elyan and Arthur’s best friend - Merlin?

It’s because she doesn’t fully believe Arthur on some subconscious level. This is what Morgana plays into. She knows that Gwen was feeling a little alone even before the Dark Tower (we see bits of it in the earlier episodes, when Gwen asks Arthur to stay with her and he politely refuses and goes with the knights to yet another mission.) “Gwen, you’re not alone now. You need never be alone again. I am the only one you can trust.”

Arthur acts as a knight should with his wife, he gives her beautiful compliments. You can’t really accuse him of abandoning his wife:

But what he does immediately after that? After all, it’s a Gwen/Arthur’s date, he pays attention to Merlin.

And if you ask me, Gwen doesn’t look happy about it:

The last Gwen/Arthur moment in the show ends with Arthur saying ‘Merlin’ and bolting out of bed because he dreamed his servant was talking to him.

LOL at Gwen’s face

And no goodbye :

More importantly, In the final episode of the series there is not a single scene between Arthur and Gwen. What happened there? They gave 'proper’ goodbyes to Perceival/Gwaine and Merlin/Gaius, even Arthur/Gaius. It was actually a stunningly disrespectful ending to the relationship they seemed to prioritize for so long.

It is because the show creators finally emphasized what the show was about in their finale episode:

Arthur does not mention Gwen once in his dying moments what so ever.

2. The Arwen romantic theme plays between Arthur and Merlin. The musical score is shot from Arthurs perspective showing Arthur falling in love with Merlin. LISTEN CAREFULLY

3. And the final clue to the puzzle, Julian called the final episode a love story between 2 men.

Mind you, I’m not saying Arthur didn’t love Gwen and vice versa. They did, but their marriage just wasn’t working as it should have. Give the show creators some credit for drastically reinterpreting the Gwen-Lancelot-Arthur triangle into a Merlin-Arthur-Gwen plot point.

Gwen certainly deserved better than this, so I’m glad sir Leon will be there for her. 

From Season 5 Episode 13 Commentary:

Katie: But she has Sir Leon, why would she need -

Julian Murphy: See, that’s another undercurrent in Merlin. Isn’t it? Sir Leon. Him and Gwen.

And some people like to say that Julian was joking and his words don’t count as a confirmation (And why is that, exactly?), but I disagree. Because Leon is heavily hinted to have feelings for Gwen in the show itself And there is this official promo photo. Mind you there is not a single photo of Gwen with any other knight for season 5 except Leon.

I think it totally counts as canon, because it would have been insensitive to show it explicitly in the show right after Arthur’s death. But still Leon was deliberately shown standing near Gwen and the throne in the last scene.

[canonical-transformation]

Venti: "Have violence."

Warm-up exercise, was trying to get better at the Mondstadt family's voices but then i just wrote Venti. (AU: Mondstadt but no Traveller.)

SCENE: a Knights of Favonius holding cell. VENTI, a bard of Mondstadt, has been arrested after attempting to steal the Holy Lyre der Himmel from the Cathedral. Sir JEAN GUNNHILDR and Master DILUC RAGVINDR interrogate him -- quickly, if they can. The Stormterror situation is already dire, and they cannot afford this distraction.

Consistent with his claims to the Church yesterday, VENTI claims to be the Anemo Archon, incognito, which would be more convincing were he not well-known as the TOWN DRUNKARD who obviously dyes his hair to look like Barbatos. DILUC has detected the presence of a powerful elemental presence within Venti, even after confiscating his Vision. He suspects a FATUI DELUSION.

Tempers flare. Hands are raised. And:

"You want violence?" Venti hisses. "Very well. Have violence." (The rest of the room tenses, but he does not move from within his seat.) "Master Diluc. When you left Mondstadt, you prayed to Barbatos every night for forgiveness. Every time, you knew that forgiveness was not Barbatos's to give. Tell me, Uncrowned King of Mondstadt..." There is venom in his voice. "All tyrants begin with the best of intentions. When a man deigns to protect his people's innocence, when he refuses to let them earn their own scars, does he stand for freedom?"

Venti's eyes turn to Jean. Her sword is not drawn yet but her knuckles are white around its hilt.

"Dandelion Knight. When you were thirteen, when you lost your sister to the Church, you were young and foolhardy, and in your anger you prayed that a certain man and woman would die. When you were fifteen and the Cardinal came down with pneumonia you thought it was your fault. Wracked with guilt, you prayed to Barbatos begging to take back your wish, you told him you were sorry, you told him that if he had to take a life to take yours." (Jean falls to her knees, eyes red.) "The Cardinal got better and still, still, you can't stand to look him in the eye, can you?"

"Enough," says Diluc. "Enough. You've made your point."

Venti bares his teeth. "Oh? But you have your God of Freedom in a cage. Will you not hear more secrets spilled in his rage? Jean, what foul thoughts the Deaconess had of you when she was young and hurting... would you like some hints? Or Diluc, perhaps I might interest you in a most enlightening tale about an ancient dynasty's final—"

"Stop." Diluc turns to Jean, who is still on her knees. "Jean, make him stop."

"Lord Barbatos, I beg your forgiveness," weeps Jean. "I... please, I'll revoke the arrest, I'm so sorry, take my life if you must, have mercy on Diluc..."

Venti closes his eyes, and with visible effort, snuffs out the rancour on his face. "Thank you," he says. "Am I free to go?"

"Yes, of course—"

"Excellent," says Venti.

The ropes binding the bard's wrists to the chair are sliced open with thin blades of pure Anemo. He stands up, and Diluc and Jean stumble into one another in their haste to shield each other from him.

"Nobody is to know, by the way," says Venti. "I'm a humble bard of Mondstadt, and I like things that way." He sighs as he strides to the door. "I'd rather not take my temper out on you any further, so let's resume this conversation later. Angel's Share. Closing time. Bring the Lyre."

-------

When the last civilian leaves for the night, Diluc locks the door.

"We owe you an apology," he says without further ado.

"And I, you," says Venti. "I have been having a difficult few months and I had... more bottled up than I realised. Speaking of bottles..." His eyes drift to the liquor on display behind the bar.

Jean steps forward. "We don't have the Lyre, my L--"

"Venti. The Abyss and Fatui's friends in low places don't care about where Venti is."

"...Venti. It takes time for the Church to process a request, and..."

"...and we don't know your intentions for it," Diluc finishes. "Our Archon has a history of insurrection, and I'll freely admit we're both... somewhat invested in helping with a scheme to put our heads on the chopping block."

Venti laughs. "True, true! Well, it is looking like I'll need your assistance, so I'd better explain the plan to you. After my guests arrive, ehe."

(venti has invited Lisa and Kaeya)

"Well, hello there, Venti," says Kaeya. He nods to Diluc and Jean. "Friends, countrymen, what a pleasant surprise to see you here."

Lisa, who has been noticing Jean's catatonia ever since she returned from the holding cells this morning, is increasingly convinced that this bard is somehow responsible, that he has hurt her Jean. She glares at him as she enters.

"Kaeya!" says Venti, raising his mug. "Lisa! I trust Sir Jean and Master Diluc have kept to their word and not filled you in?"

"We respected your privacy. Why did you invite them?" says Diluc, rubbing his temple.

"Kaeya knows how to keep a secret," says Venti, "and may well be crucial to stalling our opposition. Lisa, in addition to her Elemental expertise being critical to my plan, seemed liable to start poking around anyway."

"Opposition?" says Kaeya, drawing himself a chair. "If we're here to discuss the Mondstadt's Best Bard awards, I'm afraid I can't carry a tune."

"Jean," says Lisa, "what the hell is going on?"

"I assume we're allowed to tell them?" Jean asks Venti.

"Ah, allow me." Venti tips his cap to Kaeya. "Sir Kaeya. I was there when your grandfather died. It wasn't me, but nor did I stop it. You have my condolences." He turns to Lisa. "Miss Lisa. Use your elemental sight on me. Properly. The way Kusanali tells me you once were able to."

Lisa's eyes unfocus as she stares directly into Venti. Kaeya's easy smile does not leave his face, but his gaze visibly sharpens.

"...there's a name," Kaeya says slowly, "that I think I heard in church once. Are we... not saying that name?"

"We're not saying that name," affirms Diluc. "Too risky. Lisa, Kaeya, I believe you've already met Venti. The bard."

"Holy shit," says Lisa. "Archons... ha, I mean... holy shit." She makes a beeline for the bar, vaults over the counter, and starts fixing herself a gin and tonic. (By habit, she vaults the counter in such a way that Jean bears the brunt of the flash of thigh. Jean averts her eyes, but for once Lisa genuinely isn't paying attention to the Acting Grandmaster's reaction.) "The signature, the concealment work," Lisa mutters to herself. "That's a Gn—"

The air is pulled from her lungs long enough for Venti to cheerfully say, "Oh, that's another word we're not saying tonight, sorry Miss Lisa!"

Lisa coughs as she catches her breath. "Right, of course... I... Oh my gods the precision you just did that with. I... but... Venti, you're the town drunkard. I threw you out of my library twice this year alone."

"I never met my grandfather, but I thank you for the condolences," says Kaeya, taking a seat. "Lisa, if I may call in that favour from last week?, make me one of your Pyro whiskeys. Master Diluc, sorry we're raiding the bar, put it on my tab."

"So," says Venti, and from thin air he pulls out a dark red crystal in the shape of a teardrop. "How much do you all know about Durin?"

[thequeensofmemes]

Reign Quotes

I never saw any ghosts.

But what if they saw you?

She had skinny legs, a missing front tooth, and opinions.

My dear, this was not an act of passion. It was treason.

Love is irrelevant to people like us.

I wonder whose face you're imagining in that target.

I would rather have hope with you than certainty with anyone else.

Win or lose, you will answer for it. That's what kings do.

You do have a way of leaving chaos in your wake.

She's not just an alliance. She's a girl.

I'm not sure words mean anything here.

We'll prove to them that our union is strong.

Treat them as friends until they prove themselves foes.

Contrary to public opinion, I do not relish destroying people's homes.

I don't care what you learn, as long as you don't forget.

We have positioned ourselves for the worst kind of pain.

I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that.

I take things sometimes. It makes me feel better.

To see you smile is to feel the sun, your grace.

Do you flirt with everyone?

I'd probably say yes.

Killing isn't supposed to be easy. If your hands weren't shaking, you'd be him.

Close to death, apparently.

I'm glad that my unhappiness gives you so much pleasure.

Don't let fear keep you from greatness.

It could cost you your head.

If servants are gossiping about your unmade bed, it is too late to rectify the situation.

Men must find something to kill from time to time.

Accept that I have lost. I have.

I'm in a nunnery of one.

That's the kind of talk that gets bastards--and mistresses--beheaded.

History is written by the survivors. And I am surely that.

Tell me when you want me to stop.

Happiness is the one thing we queens can never have.

Arming yourself against me? Am I really that frightening?

Am I really stupid enough to find out?

My mother, she was behind this as well?

All her crimes against me were because she loved you.

I grow weary of your threats.

I grew weary of you a decade ago.

That half-blind portrait artist didn't realize I was sitting in a chair while my sister was standing, and now half the kingdom thinks I’m a dwarf.

Love is irrelevant to people like us, a privilege that we do not share.

There are two things I can't abide, betrayal and stupidity.

Next time you see a threat large or small, you cut it down like a weed.

I don't want to do this to you.

Too bad you didn't see this one coming.

When the ax falls on your neck, I will be there.

Off with you child. You've killed me enough for one day.

I don't 'attempt' to do anything--I do it.

Nature is not malignant.

Must I do everything? Shall I catch my head in my own hands, too?

So I sent you here to wed a king and find you engaged to a bastard.

Despite what you may think, I never intended to harm your family.

Sooner or later, blood will be spilled. It's just a matter of whose.

So he is mad...and a mad king incites chaos and rebellion.

I don't make love to you because I want a baby. I want a baby because I love you.

Those who look upon it are taken. And those who are taken die.

We are royals. We have the power to do terrible things. Without trust, we're nothing.

You? What do you have to complain about? You're now married to a beautiful woman of noble birth.

I won't pretend I love you, but we should probably start liking each other, at least.

My first duty is not to my mother.

Don't you think a royal crown suits me?

I'm too rich to care what people say.

Look where our hearts have led us. We've brought you shame.

I suppose innocence is all relative.

I always want to be there for you.

Don't beg. It invites pity and disdain.

Do all married couples have these struggles?

I think you've redefined marital discord.

Nothing bothers me more than problems I've already solved coming back to be problems again.

Am I the only one in this bed with something to forget?

I never dreamt that I'd be wed to a bastard with an imaginary title.

Losing bothers me.

Trust is a luxury I can no longer afford.

You shouldn't have to live like this.

What happens when being a good king means being a bad husband?

I don't need to be part of your schemes.

You no longer have the privilege of obeying your heart!

It isn't fair, the privileges we are given...or the prices we must pay for them.

When you are alone and miserable, remember this was the moment you threw your happiness away.

This marriage is no longer something that happened to me...you are what I want.

Don't get sentimental about a father who was never sentimental about you.

His life was there for the taking. So I took it.

Royals are always at war.

An interesting choice. Assuming you let her know she has one.

All I have to offer you...is me.

I've come to offer you something. The destruction of our mutual enemy.

Common lore is that your teeth are filed into points and your eyes are black with rage.

Ruling requires that your hands be drenched in blood.

What else could I be but a witch?

You are my husband and my king.

You crushed the rebellion by yourself.

If we die, it is at her hands. And if we live I will never forgive her for this.

I'm saying that should anything happen to either of us I hope that you'll remember me not as the man who lied or betrayed you, I hope you'll remember me as the man who would have cherished you if he'd had the chance.

And real love never fades, not truly.

Just know whatever happens, this is not the end I dreamed for us.

I refuse to surrender. My reign will not end without a fight.

Whose blood concerns you more, your husband or your lover's?

All that stands between him and the crown is my head.

Is this how it's going to be from now on? Both of us constantly wondering what the other is up to?

Long live his majesty.

Contempt alone is not enough to condemn a man. Even the contempt of a king.

We're all basically fallen women.

Our love will die here.

It was rather a miracle.

Just don't expect a fond farewell from me. Or my trust. Ever again.

Do not test my power and do not tempt my fury.

If I'm as responsible as you say, I will never forgive myself.

I never imagined you'd kill him by breaking his heart.

The truth of your betrayal was the last thing that he heard before he collapsed.

I will spill blood to defend what's mine.

So you're my new keeper.

You are a necessary evil whose orbit I can't seem to escape.

But you have to know, that no matter your choices, you still have a husband who would do anything to make you happy.

I opened my heart to a liar.

And now I am lying for you, lying even to my brother, protecting you as you take comfort in the arms of another.

Build a future controlled by you, not the changeable heart of a woman.

When you were a child, there were dozens of little girls whose families begged me for that position, but I chose you because you played well together, because you didn't hurt or throw mud at her. But now you have done both.

You are on the cusp of losing your country.

You poisoned a king and a queen and I helped you get away with it. We each hold a noose for the other.

What I meant is your official mourning period is over.

You say that as if I just won a prize. You can't be serious.

Thank you for pointing out the obvious and will you please stop doting on my mother!

Thank you for pointing out the obvious and will you please stop doting on my mother!

Because I love you. And one of us should be happy.

There are those who merely believe they have power, and there are those who actually have it.

Oh, is that caring? It sounds to me like a man trying to tighten his grip on a woman.

Such haste! I haven't properly mocked you for saving the life of your mother's worst enemy.

Congratulations, you've used your knowledge of the heart's noblest emotion to manipulate and destroy someone.

I don't feel strong. I feel like I'm sleepwalking and I don't know how to wake up.

I will be your wife in name only.

Look where that love has brought us.

At least my family will cry at my funeral.

She sent you to woo me, didn't she?

The only alliance I'm interested is temporary, delicious and bad.

Do not seek to take before I can give.

here are some lines I will not cross even to save myself.

I wanted to give you the chance to do the right thing and I still believe you will.

It's a very romantic story, actually. Father threatened to kill them both if they didn't marry.

I need to handle this on my own and to do it my way. What I need from you is to be patient and to believe in me.

My dear, never give up a crown to anybody.

Are you seriously, seriously suggesting that you want to watch me bathe in return for getting my dowry back?

You know that as a Queen, you put on an act. You can't always show what's in your heart. The same is true for being a wife.

We're women. We're not allowed to have things of our own.

Do you worry that I can't bear you a child?

Does it bring us closer for you to know that your failure disappoints me beyond words?

In the name of justice and tolerance you will drive your people to civil war.

My ladies brought this to me months ago. I read it in an hour.

Have you ever been in love?

Don't you turn your back on me. I am more than your friend. I am your Queen!

I can't be ruled by desire. It's nothing to build a life on.

Your figure's gonna go to hell anyway so you might as well eat up. You are feeding the future King.

It's been some weeks now but I wanted to be sure and I am sure. I am with child, our child, at last!

You lie to your guests and then you threaten them with weapons? We will not be treated this way!

Asking you to know your place is like asking the sun not to shine.

It's must be hard. Once a Queen, now the Queen Mother. Decorative, like an expensive vase.

There's a new day coming, and you are on the wrong side.

Are all powerful men so insecure?

Innocent men shouldn't die alone.

You think you're untouchable, that your sins will stay buried, but they don't.

Of all the people you could have slept with, did it have to be one of my ladies? One of my closest friends?

I am your Queen. I command you.

One bedroom for husband and wife. Good luck with that!

Am I really planning a life, a future, without you?

I will not live in fear of her.

Are you trying to blame a woman for a man’s choices?

It was your spies who got that information to me wasn’t it.

I hope your wings are strong you vulture! You will be circling for quite some times.

What’s the cost of a king’s life?

I always knew we would be wed. Even when I first returned.

I see such beauty. Such beauty you have brought me.

You must wed again. You must love again.

I will never love anyone, the way I love you.

I can’t let him go.

Let him go, and hold on to me.

We were suppose to dance under the stars.

I may still a Queen.

Is that it? Our courtship is over. Was I wrong in thinking it was going well?

No matter what you might think, I can’t just force men to fall in love with me.

That is not a strategy.

I am a queen, about to marry a broken Prince for power...

I need proof before the wedding happens.

You two have become thick as thieves.

Do you still hold it agents me that I defended her agents a false accusation of murder?!

It's time to accept my fate

I will not be chased out of my country before I’ve even retuned.

I will fight fire, with fire.

The day may come where we may find ourselves on the battle field. What would you do then?

Impressive. Where did you learn to shoot like that?

Those memories are a part of me.

You love power!

You despise me, yet you expect a free ride!

I think I shall never see you again.

We have to stop them.

Give me your sword.

You took my heart! And now I’ve come to repay you.

I have come for my throne.

Queens do not bow to their subjects. It is in-fact, quite the other way around.

And may God, and your Queen. Have mercy of your soul.

Men don’t like taking orders from woman, they can barely stand speaking to them.

He knows I speak the truth.

Who cares about right or wrong, if you're dead!

I don’t have much to live for these days, but I would still die for my children.

She does have her moments doesn't she.

I’m sorry I wasn’t the mother you wanted me to be. I did my best.

Why would my presence startle you? Oh because you married my lover.

You requested a five course meals, I offer you seven!

Your love, it gave him so much joy, and that's what you must remember.

How can I pray to God, when I am certain he doesn’t not hear me.

My election could mean the end of your nation.

If I cannot disprove these charges I will swing from a rope.

What if he dies?!

We were here! We were playing a game of chess- which I won.

From the moment you were born, our relationship has been complicated.

We live in a word that undervalues woman.

I may be guilty of favouring my sons over my daughters.

And when you are wed, and you leave this home, it will break my heart.

You are offering me a kindness, a consideration I have rarely shown to you over the years.

Is it so unthinkable, a crime might take place in this castle that I had nothing to do with.

The butcher still insists on his innocents.

Just remember. Enjoy him, but never trust him.

I won’t be frightened into your arms by a dead rat, or a dead Cardinal!

If you think you are not going to talk, you are mistaken.

I don’t understand why we have to take time to visit the Generals.

A king should always deliver good news in person. Bad news should be sent by a messenger. Or let them find out on their own.

Go take back your country.

Our union is damaged beyond repair.

That’s the most flattering thing you’ve ever said to me.

Please tell me that wasn't you.

I need you here, too see you, even if I can’t touch you.

I am paying the price. I feel like a prisoner.

I am their Queen. Their whispers are treason.

Your highness, you are a vision.

This thing between us. It must end.

I’m ready to accept his proposal.

If is a fact of our time. A man rules his wife. Even if his wife is a Queen.

And it will be the challenge of my life, not to kill her.

Perhaps I forgot what it means to be a queen.

I shall never name an heir unless it is my own child.

To name a successor is to place a target on one's self.

Perhaps it better to outright refuse him. Be brutal and direct.

Don’t misjudge me. I am my father’s son.

All that’s left now, is for me to enjoy my final hours.

Well, I suppose you’ll have to settle with being the Queen of two nations, not three.

You cannot keep me in a cage. Even one built with love.

We were meant to be happy, and we were. But I have another fate.

Show people you are worthy of the post you hold, and no one will remember how you rose to it.

Love is never simple. Not that I'm any expert.

I was willing to give up so much for you. But now I want you out of my life. Forever.

Why must the fate of nations be decided in a shared bed?

I receive a letter from him nearly everyday. And I haven’t read one.

I can’t image what the night must be without the man you truly love.

Please go. While I still have the courage to say goodbye.

Sons of cobblers, doesn’t get to be with princesses.

I need to believe, that who we are, matters more than our station.

You are who you're born into, and nothing more than people say you are. You can pretend otherwise, but the world won’t pretend with you.

If you go on this mission. I’ll stop loving you!

From now on, you're only allowed to dream about me.

I have many children of my own you know. Some of them turn out quite well.

She is actually dead in’t she?

What is power, without love.

Be grateful for the fun you had, you must have know your time would come.

I expect you’ll be wearing that when we play cards tonight.

She handles tragedy with ruthless clarity.

I will not help you with this

Ask anyone. I’m as fickle as they come.

It's hard for all of us. Being part of this family.

I may be young, and inexperienced, but I promise I’ll give you an heir.

What’s this play about?

It’s a comedy about royals.

I hear the princess is worth looking at.

It's funny isn't in. Both of us here, we already know we've had our one true love.

You must rule your own heart, as firmly as you rule your subjects.

We may be the enemy, but I am not without my manners.

Your light as a feather, I swear!

Would you be interested in anything else? My chambers for example…

There’s the smile I was hoping for.

Allow me to charm you so more, and we’ll work on that next part.

Men forget, that woman have ears.

My child will be heir to her throne, to both Nations.

This is a course you cannot step back from. And if you take it, I fear I am looking at a dead woman.

We all die. The question is what we stood for while we lived.

Have you already named our children? Or did you leave that part for me?

I did not expect to like you. But I do.

Earn my respect then, as I earn the respect of my men. In combat!

Duels only lead to dead men, not respect.

Fists then. A boxing match. If you win, I bend the knee. But if I win, you will withdraw your marriage offer to the Queen.

I let you win that race.

How dare you, didn't you notice that I defied the queen of England for you!?

I’m going to be your husband.

I had a husband! and I loved him and he was murdered in cold blood before my eyes.

Before I met you, I loved someone. In that way that should've lasted a lifetime, but it didn't.

Let the danger come.

You will be my husband in name only. And we will never be happy.

It is my duty, my God-given birthright and my crown. And I will defend it from anyone who attempts to take it.

I had hoped that our marriage would be a partnership in every way. but with your drinking, your cheating, your blind ambition...

I know we hardly know each other, and yet here I am, asking you to risk everything for me.

With or without your crown. I would do anything for you.

I made you King. But we will never be equals.

You can’t expect everyone to be glad you are back at Court, some of us know you.

He will hang. And I will enjoy watching him die.

I didn't kill him, but justice needed to be done.

This vile act will not ease your pain!

Revenge is not meant to ease pain. It is meant to balance the scales.

He was an innocent man!

Men will never willingly bow to the weaker sex.

I put my trust in you, my Lord.

Well surely you don’t blame me.

How nice of you to take time out of your grievance to mock me.

What about the shame you've brought to this family? Not to mention this country and to God himself?!

I've learned never trust the beginning of a book.

I know this isn't what you wanted, but for now, this marriage will protect you.

When the time is right, I can make you a widow.

We need to show them you are not a monster, by showing them what you really are. A King.

Perhaps I shall have your throat slit in your sleep. Or have the villagers do it for me when they come for us to root out the beast we have protected.

I should have your entire family burned at the stake.

He was born first! That's all he has to do.

I have always put my children first. I have done terrible things! I have always done it for their good. But are they worth it?

Tell your son to come to court. Or I will have him dragged here. On his knees.

I will not be remembered as the Queen that drew first blood.

And I can't bear to lose you.

Our affair puts you in danger.

I won't ever tire of you.

He is a long-term confidante. A skilled advisor and diplomat, whose journeys, for the Crown, have met with spectacular success.

I represent something glorious, for everyone. And if you want to banish every person who is dazzled by me, we'll be a nation of mainly women.

You are more precious to me than my nation.

Speak! While there is still mercy in my heart!

I will bow to no man

I will face ever threat to my reign with sword in hand. And any who shall stand in my way shall fall.

I cannot have her blood on my hands. And I cannot let her go.

Look how far you’ve come. Trading your heart to rise in station.

Now that I know how things really work around here. I'm interested in getting to know you better.

Why should I be interested in you?

I was starting to think you didn't have it in you.

But let me offer some advice: next time you threaten someone, make sure you have proof. A theory is nothing more than a feather.

I am on no one's side, but my own.

Get out of my Court!

It’s fine. A daughter joining her mother for an evening stroll is hardly a crime.

The tears might be a bit much.

In a year, everything will be different. I'll have an heir.

I won’t fall in love with him. I promise!! Please have faith in me.

I was almost sent to a nunnery for following my heart!

I lost both the man I love and the man I could have loved.

I'm asking you to marry me. but I’m begging you to save your own life.

Tell me this. Do you think we can be happy together?

Your food is regularity tested for poison.

You're so clever.

Your lies come so easily.

You invited me here because you think of me, as often as I think of you.

He does have his father’s history to overcome.

I am an ambitious man. And if this is my one chance at King, I will take it.

If I am King for only as long as you live, then I say long live the Queen.

I don’t want to find love. I want to be loved.

It wasn’t easy, I paid a fortune.

The inevitable War of Two Queen.

May matrimony set you on a more honorable path.

I am married to the most powerful man in the world.

Stop starting at me witch!

You're a beautiful, ambitious, young woman who's learned to pull the strings of men, and yed can't see when her own strings are being pulled.

Being married to a woman who is in love with another, isn’t exactly the ideal union I dreamed of either.

Bastards and cheaters are not welcome on the Throne.

You will have love or an heir, but not both.

Lie to me again, and I will open you up right here, in your own house.

If you have a baby that isn’t yours, you’ll hang, unless you cooperate.

[alchemisland]

Moors Mutt - Chapter I part II

The tavern's proprietor Lar was a man out of time. With mauling arms folded across a simian chest, those big lugs like trophy handles either side of his substantial forehead, he could have easily passed for a saxon reaver. He stood against a backdrop of coloured glasses, bottles and casks in strange order and shape as decor an alchemist's laboratory. He stirred to life with a scowl, seemingly perturbed by my proposed custom, and when his grim eyes flitted toward the doorframe where I stood they never left me, tracing my gait, measuring my intent by my caution. Unlike the merry keep of fireside tales, he offered no warmth in greeting. That you were found fit to sit his barstool was kindness enough.

Inebriates remained nursing drams, glowering at their respective lecterns. I sat pacified. A loud mind had been quieted briefly. I contended only with the surprising potency of his ale. Lar, though tireless, worked without grace or speed. Machinelike, he filled the chalices of his regulars to the brim, every interaction wordless but for a grunt.

In a rare idle moment I signalled to him. 'This is probably going to sound strange, possibly it is, but hear me out first. Have you ever heard or seen anything strange around here? On the moor perhaps?'

Widened like an owl, Lar's right eye scanned me once, twice, three times before he stirred. 'I have, in fact. Not now. Too crowded. Later.' His lips barely moved, his eyes fixed on a distant point, a picture of practiced subterfuge.

I tipped my nose. 'Mum.' Tantalised and impatient, I was nonetheless pleased as my integration thus far. Lar hadn't time of day to speak of books or art, he was a philistine it seemed, but the mere mention of high strangeness set his eyes burning, every inch of his forearm torqued and tight to the bone.

Nearer closing, he poured a cup and sat, remaining on the business side opposite, across the lay of defaced oak. Wide-shouldered and stacked in flabby layers like a wedding cake, he had the look of an old warrior too worn to die in battle, ballooned and sore, fierce still. He seemed to strain at the weight of his own bulk. How the desires of youth, to be fierce and feared and pleasant to observe, we wear like shackles at the winter wilting.

When at last Lar mounted his stool, a difficult task as he was forced each time to rediscover the centre point of his vast behind to avoid tumbling backward, he leaned in close. 'The beast, you say?' One eyebrow he raised, its shape the arching rod of a hooked line. 'I could tell you more than a tale about the beast.'

'Prithee speak, my curiosity burns. I won't rest until it's satiated. Tourist talk begone, do you believe, as men do God, a beast prowls these lands?' I inched forward, that as if by closer proximity the truths would be made truer.

'Regular Theseus, is that it? Of monster hunters we know much. Lovers of dark arts also. All are served here. Kings and paupers. Did you come all this way to hear me say that?' Lar spoke with great confidence. The particular manner of his prattling compounded my sense that the tales he told were perhaps practiced.

'No.' I replied 'I have business in the cottage. Let me state directly; I am neither quack nor séance holder. I am not of low learning, a prover of falsehoods; rather I am a lover of stories. Pray, continue your captivating narrative.'

Lar continued. 'Let it be said I was coaxed. You asked.'

In this ominous portent he let slip a mask of deft craft. There was artifice in his smile, a cheshire grin that touched either cheekbone. A whispered suggestion of hidden intent.

'Enough pussyfooting. Spill it. I'll need all the advice I can get.' Like a drill tip, I pressed my index finger into the bar.

'No matter what image I conjure in your mind's eye, the beast is yet more ferocious and terrible in the flesh. It's the great unreality of it.' He tapped his forehead. 'Your mind doubts what it's seeing, unable to comprehend its stimulus. Brave men are made mice in its gaze.'

'What evidence have you of such a creature?' I asked, draining my tankard. He looked me over once, as if to ask who I was to question. I returned a withering gaze, maneuvering my features to convey a similar message. For a moment the air felt charged with kinetic possibility. As when two pugilists circle to begin a contest, lead hands pawing.

Lar broke the armistice. 'Evidence? If you didn't think it weren't here, you wouldn't have come. If you believed in your heart you'd be contending with a monster this week, you'd have stayed at home in your jams.'

'Nonsense, man! You forget I am not here of my own volition. Business has portended our introduction. What we speak of is.. Extracurricular.'

'We, each of us, tell ourselves sweet little lies to justify how our limited time is spent. I have a right mind to think if the lady yet lived up in the big house, you and I might still have met. On a yawning stretch such as this, arriving as you have: alone and curious. If there's one thing I can't respect, it's a self-hating believer. Swanning around with all the cynicism of a non-believer, clad in the robes of an adherent, so that when the hobby is proved spurious you can point to your skepticism. You'd be first to the papers tomorrow if scientists verified the beast's existence, how you had journeyed and studied on your own dime to further the science.' Lar pursed his lips, knowing he'd cut me to the quick, vanished was his earlier reticence.

I hated how right he was. I was exactly this sort. Insulting people who believed the same things as me. First to refuse to enter a haunted house for fear a demon might take my soul.

I'd never concede his point though. I riposted, 'Few are more loathed than the opinionated barman. You speak much too readily. Do so again, I'll see your manners are checked for the next weary traveler willing to pay good coin.'

Lar's eyes lit, bulging with imagined riches. 'Let me fill your drink, sir. I meant no offence. We speak freely here. Manners soften. Soon one finds truths cannot be digested unperfumed. Here in the wilds, it's a duty to voice quarrel. Far from crown and court, unaired anger festers.' Lar, as soon I would learn, dispensed his pearls of rural wisdom free of charge.

'Really, man. Every idea can be made ridiculous if extrapolated to that degree. Manners take the edge off. I'm not offended by your candor. I intend to find the creature, if such exists. Have you no doubt about that.' I watched him pull another drink.

The returned tankard was too full to raise without spilling. I bent to the lip and like a pulled plug, drained half in a gulp.

'What evidence is sufficient? Look around you.' Lar held aloft his hands, urging me toward his empty business, still cast in a sickly light from the last flickering sentinels. He pointed toward the empty seats. A single patron remained hidden in the shadows. A local by his boots.

'We did a roaring trade before that bloody woman inherited the place. Once she came, the trade died. When I was a lad, that land was free to roam. No walls. She had them built to spite us. Worse rumours too I have heard, that those walls were built to contain it.'

'It?' I asked

'It.' His voice lowered to a whisper. 'A cage for a pet beyond control. That's your sort all over.'

'Her sort.' I corrected, 'I'm not aristocratic. You're a presumptuous sort, you know.'

'Believe you're not the first to say. Her sort, whatever pleases. I don't subscribe to this particular theory. Me personally, I think it's from hell. One thing's for certain, it got worse when they shifted the stone.'

'You say you have seen it?' Part of me thought I was stringing him along, but another more gullible me firmly believed he had seen something. 'With your own eyes if you saw it, you must swear it. Did you see it as I see you now, or as one sees distant stars and erroneously assumes knowledge.'

'As I stand.' Lar gestured to his stained apron, which he promptly removed and slung on a hook overhead. He nodded to the sole barfly, who stumbled from his seat and shot the bolt across the lock, an angry black mechanism like a bas-relief. 'That's Fergus.'

Fergus lurched over. One leg trailed behind him. I couldn't help imagining him a gothic manservant, dragging corpses to the laboratory in pursuit of higher knowledge. He came to stand beside me. There were giants on the earth in those days. Though our eyes observed the same setpiece, his countenance betrayed little comprehension. With the chiseled jaw of a bust in profile, head-on his mouth, ringed by ever moist lips, was pursed like a fish. He placed one enormous hand at my shoulder. Such space was permitted between his fingers splayed that ten legions abreast might find passage unmolested. His knuckles protruded unnaturally, evidence of labour or something harder than masonry. Mayhaps soldiering.

He never looked at my face. I coughed, first mannerly, then more harshly, thinking to approach cautiously lest my assumption prove provident, that he had lost his sound during foreign campaigns, of whose spoils we all were beneficiaries.

'Don't mind him.' Lar said. He spoke softly in the presence of his friend, observing his movements closely, ready to interject with a steadying hand or a warning to the cruelly curious. I wondered were they brothers. They bore little resemblance, though stranger things I had heard. Lar took Fergus' wrist and pressed gently, disturbing the folds of his motheaten jacket. They shared a moment I could but observe, radiating warmth and glad tidings in a wordless wave.

'I mean not to speak boldly, and lash me with spite if I transgress overmuch, but I must know or I should forever wonder, are you kin?' I asked.

Fergus shared Lar's laugh with a similar look of bemused ignorance.

'Hear that? Fancy man reckons we're brothers. Probly thinks we're all related down this end. Not in a godly way either.' Lar let a viking bellow.

Lar released his grip and the folds of Fergus' sleeve righted. He spoke an octave lower, miming offence at my observance. I poised to explain I had intended no hidden subtext, which Lar waved to indicate all had been taken as delivered.

'We are not brothers. Close friends. Known Fergus here forever.' He gently tapped the giant's hand, slapped on the bar like an enormous muddy bird print. 'Used to be a keen cookie once upon a forever ago. Loved languages, Welsh mostly. Pugilism he loved more. One passion consumed the other. Anything burning intensely inevitably cannibalises itself. Took one knock too many, stole his wits in an instant. A left hook across the bar sent him erstwhile. Twenty five minutes he was on the shores of night, learning the landscape of the dreamworlds, while we fanned his rigid form, wet his brow and whispered familiar names in his ear. When at last he woke a part of him was left forever in that place. I like to think, boyishly perhaps, it awaits him upon leaving this plain of lousy strife, like the belongings awaiting a homeward jailbird. The cloak of a lost lifetime. Not for him. He'll slide right into it, fit like a tailored piece, and all of eternity to speak. Not here though.'

Tears welled in his eyes. I took the reins, 'Think nothing of your emotions, man. We each have them. Doubtless I will shed a tear up in the old witch's place. Another life awaits, that much is sure. Grander than this. I'm sure he makes a fine man. Built like a gladiator. I am sorry to have dredged unpleasantness. I meant only to satisfy a selfish curiosity. Forgive me. Please continue.'

'I will at that.' He cleared his throat.

'It were one cold night three years ago. Fergus was there. We'd been called out on account of strange noises near the workers' cottages. They wouldn't work until the supposed evil was driven away. We came down from the high road proper and there it stood bold in the copse. Like a horse it stood, with clumsy stilts supporting an ursine bulk that swayed as it shambled. It drank shadows to conceal its dread presence. Blackness it took for robes. In walking its front paws propelled its cumbersome form, while the rear set, less lengthy, dredged channels in the dirt. In motion it arched to reveal a belly spun of lighter felt, ashen in the scant moonlight. Bundled it became an orb of shadow, nothingness. Unbeknownst we watched it watching, green eyes like blazing protostars probing for movement. Well it knew to choose this place, with one of only two wells located nearby. In a flash it was gone, satin-shoed away into the night.'

The tale Lar knew was a scorcher paused. He beamed, an actor awaiting applause. I gathered my jaw from the floor, brushed and set it properly.

Each word drew me closer, which Fergus mirrored, until we three sat as witches about the bubbling lip of a cauldron, a coven of pallid specters.

Lar sipped and nodded we join.

I wondered had my hobby in a blink become too dangerous to justify. It was well telling my employers of ghost hunts, but a wild beast - my insurance wouldn't have it! If it turned out some menagerie escapee, what then was it? Quest for wonder or recklesss folly? Weiss, Wellie and Wardun insurance, even in their most obscure policies, don't pay out for fools. That's why I chose them!

As Lar went on, a fresh cigarette painted the air blue in his articulation, 'Each shifting moon we came to that spot. We had taken it upon ourselves to rid the land of danger. Fergus knows a bit about a bit, that's what's left to him, God bless. What he knows is knots. Army training dictates every officer have at least passing knowledge of ten or more useful fastenings. Me? I know about animals.'

'A fierce duo, I'm sure.' I beamed, ensorcelled.

'We inquired about a reward, to which the estate responded agreeably, so we set off with rope overshoulder and the angriest traps the furmen could spare, determined to snare it. We planted snares all about its presumed domain. Nothing came. Not a rat. Not a wisp. Not never again. It's the mystery disturbs me most. I'd die happy knowing.'

In his voice a single note of longing rang and dispelled the subterfuge of his intentions, and twas far from the sinister goldlust I had silently attributed him.

I observed Lar, now powerful and straight. I asked 'Do I sense an unfinished quest?'

'Aye. Not too subtle, mind.' Lar flashed a toothy smile, the sort a condemned man spits at his executioner. 'You seem a serious man. I didn't know when you first came in parading your manners like fancy knickers. You can't be too sure about a man who gives too many pleases. You're not that sort and have proved such twice over.' Lar imagined that was a compliment from the look he gave. Expectant almost, between child submitting scribbles for display and cat batting dead mouse onto pillow.

Well, of course I had something to say. Cats were hissing. A donnybrook of claws and torn fur not even a hearty stock of iodine could salve. 'And I might say also that I too had cast aspersions on your character, maintaining you were of sinister country stock. As you claim to have been rapturously convinced otherwise, as have I.'

'Once the lady's estate is divided and bequeathed I'll receive my own. I mean to inherit a substantial bursar. I will pay to you a fair sum. In exchange, you will guide me to the hotpots. When we find it, you're in charge until it's bound.' If he came, it would be on my terms.

'Find it? Slow down. We've seen it once in a hundred times. I'll take you gladly all the same.' Lar agreed, quite fairly.

Wordless, we shook and drained our horns.

'Tomorrow?' Lar asked. He drew my gaze to an unopened bottle of whiskey, which I declined.

'Not so, good man. Tomorrow I will tend my affairs. In the evening, if all is ordered, I will return to discuss further a plan of action. Have you a room I might rent?' I yawned, suddenly quite exhausted.

'Not for everyone so don't go saying. There's one in the back. I'll light the fire.' Lar's manners had briefly returned at the notion of payment.

'Please do.'

I left a generous tip. A productive evening assuredly. Before following the publican to his warm hollow, I shook Fergus' hand, assuming he too would be part of our fortean friendship.

While I slumbered the nightmare broke free her paddock and thundered across the veil of my somnambulant phantasmagoria, its clanging hooves rang shrill terror.

I saw spined creatures oozing pus, many-eyed. Edgeless orbs hissing like flying snakes from one black abyss to another.

Cats with human faces screamed. A hairless man with a tail curled upwards like a scorpions pike disemboweled himself with a broken mirror.

Last came the bestial form, not unlike that which Lar had described, striding evilly. Two venom coated fangs, uncontained by its snarling mouth, curved inward toward its breast. Catlike claws glinted menacingly. Turning my third eye downwards as if to look upon my feet, I found myself formless, yet the beast circled knowingly around the space my corporeal form should occupy.

I knew instinctively this reverie was more tangible than the other eerie visitations, and that if the beast should strike I would die or wake screaming with a crimson pool spreading below. It sniffed the air, pawing closer.

I woke to my beastless chamber. Sodden, I sought a candle and in its gloam chronicled my nightmare. That night sleep ne'er returned, making groggy my morning plod toward Cairn Cottage.

More.

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

YOOOO BACK FOR MORE LONG REBLOGS HELL YEAH

"He'd help him clean, of course, then suggest hiding out in the computer lab for some Dungeon Lord and snacks." This is so oddly wholesome??? And surprisingly practical??? The best of Old Eli tbh. Cares about his friends, but doesn't impulsively dig them all into deep shit XD

"seeing as he'd probably get detention for a week after beating the shit out of the perpetrator." Ngl I am enamored with the thought of Eli going completely unhinged and beating the crap out of Kyler for Demetri. We haven't seen nearly enough of Violently Protective Eli in canon!!! Like let him go apeshit defending his boyfriend after being a little shit to him for so long!!!

"Even so, he wasn't perfect, and he often turned out to have the worst mix of traits of both phases of his past." Oh 1000%. The best of both worlds and the worst of both worlds equally. There is no in between with this man.

"a subtle crooked smirk gracing his features." Demetri. Demetri of course you think about Eli in flowery poetic terms like this. Simp

I'm screaming at the fact that the spooky ski masks were apparently Demetri's idea. Or that he thought they would be any assistance whatsoever in being stealthy when Eli has the most conspicuous hair in the school. So smart and yet so incredibly stupid, god bless <3

ELI DYING HIS HAIR PINK AJASHAKUDYBHSU WELL THAT'S ONE WAY TO COME OUT, YOU GO KING

" "Eggs aren't even dairy, they're a protein!" " He's right tho D: Although Demetri obnoxiously correcting Eli on something and then immediately saying "permeable" instead of "permanent" is very on-brand. Demetri thinks he is the full-time carrier of their shared brain cell, but he very much is. Not

" "What, like a carton of chocolate milk on your chemistry binder?" Eli countered, his hand moving to rest on Demetri's knee. "Look, I'm not gonna let this stuff go unpunished." " THE INTIMACY OF THE HAND ON THE KNEE AND THE ELABORATE REVENGE PLOT TO AVENGE YOUR BINDER I'm tearing up ;_____;

"This is illegal!!! This is vandalism!!!" Homeboy is dead convinced the cops are summoned by any criminal-sounding splats and will immediately materialize to sentence two teenagers to a lifetime in prison for...egging a guy's house. I love this paranoid mf so much, he's just like I was in high school fr fr. Like what do you mean, you can sometimes do delinquent shit and you aren't force-teleported into jail immediately??? HOW CAN IT BE??? I really thought the surveillance state hellworld we live in was like...10 times worse than it actually is lmao

" "Yeah, well, Kyler's never gonna suspect us. He's made a lot of enemies. The dude probably cleans toilet paper out of his trees, like, three times a week." " AJSHKUYDG he's not wrong tho??? Pretty sure the only person who HASN'T gotten to beat up Kyler for being a little shit is Sam XD And they really took away the boy-girl tournament fights to deprive me of that, they really launched an attack against me personally--

"Oh, how Demetri missed when his mischievous smile meant a heist into the cookie jar rather than vandalism." HAHAHAHA Although I love that Eli always had a bit of a troublemaking streak XD Now I'm imagining Eli spearheading all the cookie raids when they were little, and it's kind of adorable. Hence why Demetri was Not Surprised, Just Annoyed when Eli suddenly dialed it up to 11 like "YEAH!!! LET'S BUY ALCOHOL WITH A FAKE ID!!! LET'S KIDNAP A GIRL AND TATTOO 'BITCH' ON HER FACE!!! I GOT CHASED BY A RAPID DOG AND I'VE NEVER FELT SO ALIVE!!!"

" "Fine," Demetri conceded. "But at the tiniest noise, I'm bolting, and you're coming with me." " Demetri refusing to leave Eli behind in his own cowardice is both hilarious and wholesome. "If I'm gonna wimp out, then by god, so are you!!! You are NOT facing repercussions for our tomfoolery alone!!!" Very on-brand for him, too--he's always been about as ride or die for Eli as you can get ;____;

" "I'd expect nothing less from you, scaredy-cat," Eli replied smugly, to which Demetri felt his heart skip in his chest in a way he knew had nothing to do with the crime he was about to commit." Of course Eli uses "scaredy-cat" as a pet name. Of course he does. Demetri is scaredy. And he is also a human cat. Not him getting flustered because he's lowkey catching onto the fact that Eli is calling him flirty pet names--

" "Shall you take the first egg, my liege?" Eli offered forward the carton in his stupid impression of Knight Phillip from Dungeon Lord." STOP STOP STOP THIS IS THE CUTEST SHIT Of course Eli finds a way to be nerdy about petty misdemeanors, I love that for him ajldsiuhykdlefh

I'm going to go through and leave rambly reblogs on all of these, my dear, I'm sorry I took so long 💜

Tis I, the "hell yeah" Anon! If you're still taking prompts, could I get "Following the rules is boring" for binary boyfriends?

Always enjoy your ficlets so much <3

hell yeah, "hell yeah" anon ! here's a 500 word drabble for you involving dairy (of sorts). enjoy ! <3

If one were to ask Demetri how Eli would react to seeing him with a school binder soaked with milk, Demetri would probably tell them he'd do nothing. He'd help him clean, of course, then suggest hiding out in the computer lab for some Dungeon Lord and snacks.

Well, that was old Eli. And Hawk, well; Hawk was even worse, seeing as he'd probably get detention for a week after beating the shit out of the perpetrator.

And then there was Eli 2.0, who had Hawk's danger streak with Eli's ability to stand down. Even so, he wasn't perfect, and he often turned out to have the worst mix of traits of both phases of his past.

"What's wrong with fighting dairy with dairy?" Eli asked, gently tossing an egg in his hand, a subtle crooked smirk gracing his features.

They were hiding behind Kyler's car, both wearing some ski masks that Eli apparently thought were 'ridiculous'--as if his bright (now pink) mohawk was not only the only one in the school as well as his own distinguishable trademark.

"Eggs aren't even dairy, they're a protein!" Demetri argued in a whisper. "Besides, this could cause, like, permeant damage--"

"What, like a carton of chocolate milk on your chemistry binder?" Eli countered, his hand moving to rest on Demetri's knee. "Look, I'm not gonna let this stuff go unpunished. I want him cleaning as much as we were. No fighting, as promised."

"But," Demetri's face flushed, glancing down at Eli's hand on his knee. "This is illegal. You know, vandalism?"

"Yeah, well, Kyler's never gonna suspect us. He's made a lot of enemies. The dude probably cleans toilet paper out of his trees, like, three times a week. Besides, a little rule-breaking's gotta be healthy every once and a while, following the rules all the time is boring." Eli insisted with a wink, his grin mischievous.

Oh, how Demetri missed when his mischievous smile meant a heist into the cookie jar rather than vandalism.

But even so, he had to admit that it was kind of exciting, egging the house of a guy that had caused him so much grief over the years. Just imagining the look on his face when he found the mess was golden.

"Fine," Demetri conceded. "But at the tiniest noise, I'm bolting, and you're coming with me."

"I'd expect nothing less from you, scaredy-cat," Eli replied smugly, to which Demetri felt his heart skip in his chest in a way he knew had nothing to do with the crime he was about to commit. "Shall you take the first egg, my liege?" Eli offered forward the carton in his stupid impression of Knight Phillip from Dungeon Lord.

Demetri grasped the egg in his hand, the surface cold and smooth. He remembered the two hours he'd spent cleaning and rewriting all his chemistry notes; the bastard had this coming, and so much more.

He threw the egg, and the splatting sound it made against the bricks was more music to his ears than any experience points in Dungeon Lord.

[melonlordheroes]

The Dadlords: Sun, Sand, Sunk (PART 1)

-With the victory of Lyon in the voting gauntlet, Tiki's recent promotion to 5-Star, and all the chaos inherent in the BHBs currently taking place along with the Summoner's birthday happening the previous day... the Askran forces have earned a break. What better way than with a trip to the beach? While Mystery temporarily controls the grill (and occasionally threatens Arvis with the tongs to keep him away) the dadlords have scattered about to enjoy the weather. Hector is currently lecturing Lilina on the importance of sunscreen while she eyes Roy and Eliwood nearby attempting to lure a crab back into the ocean. Julius is plotting to try and dunk Julia underwater until a volleyball bashes him in the back of the head, courtesy Lucina and Seliph's extremely heated match being played with Fir and Siegbert. Finn is staring out over the sea, wishing Leif, Lachesis and Nanna were home with him and feeling a pang of sorrow at their absence. Bartre and Sigurd are watching the group, serving as makeshift lifeguards.-

Sigurd: It's rather nice to spend time with our families like this, isn't it?

Bartre: Heh, it is. ...Bet Barst woulda' loved to come too. Shame Genny came down with that cold.

Sigurd: Perhaps we'll have to all come back later in the summer?

Bartre: Now THAT'S the kind of thinkin' I respect! Good idea, Sig--

-Bartre is cut off by a sudden howl from further down the beach and both men stop to look at the source. Chrom is standing knee-deep in the water, looking pleased with himself, and in his arms wrapped up into the form of the ANGRIEST Nohrian burrito is Leo desperately trying to hide from the sun.-

Leo: CHROM, PUT ME BACK ON THE BEACH THIS INSTANT!

Chrom: Oh, Leo, it's not THAT bad. Look, you're not even touching the water!

Leo: (hissing) Historically speaking, princes of Nohr and the ocean have failed to get along since time immemorial! I REFUSE to go into that, that glorified corrosive bathtub!

Chrom: (soft laugh) Come on, try it. I won't let you drown!

Leo: It's not drowning-- I'm not the one who can't swim! I just don't LIKE to!

Chrom: Not-- wait. The one who can't swim? Then... can Xander not swim?

Leo: No, he can't. (wiggle) Now put me down. I'll go help Mystery cook or something.

-Seemingly too stunned to argue, Chrom steps back onto the sandbar and puts Leo down. As Leo immediately flees to the safety of Mystery's side, Chrom approaches Bartre and Sigurd with a determined look. Arvis also steps over to join them, having tired of dealing with Mystery.-

Chrom: Did you two hear that, by chance?

Sigurd: (frown) Indeed we did. Xander can't swim?

Bartre: Oh, that's just a tragedy... what'll he do if he ever has to travel by boat?! Gods, if he gets thrown overboard...

Chrom: As Xander's fathers, we must teach him. For his own safety!

Arvis: Bah, so he can't swim. What's the big deal? Nohr's probably landlocked--

Sigurd: Are you saying that because you yourself cannot swim, Arvis?

Arvis: ...

Sigurd: (little bit smug) Aha. Got you.

Arvis: Dastard.

Sigurd: (waves a hand) Very well! Chrom, fetch Marquess Ostia and Lord Eliwood and let them know we'll be occupied. Bartre, you'll be our leader for this mission.

Bartre: Right! Heh, leave it to me. Our boy'll be faster n' a ship in the waves when I'm through!

Sigurd: And I'll help teach Arvis to the best of my ability.

Arvis: That is absolutely not necessary.

Sigurd: Do you want to explain to Julia and Julius why you can't come in the water with them?

Arvis: ...Damn it. Fine. You're on.