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kookiecrumb · 4 years ago

Text

jjk|| Your Head

"tags": @kazthebrekkerofinej

word count: uhhhh

summary: Jungkook is the heir to the throne of your Kingdom! In this tale of duty versus heart, will love prevail victorious?

tags: Royalty!Jungkook x Peasant!Reader, oneshot, smut, fluff, slight angst, some crack, pining, forbidden lovers, Jungkookie has a sweet tooth, strangers to friends to lovers

warnings: explicit language, impact play, birthday sex (technically), fingering, oral (m receiving*), love marking, alcohol consumption, s&m themes, horny grinding, praise kink/body worship

a/n:

hey guys!

Firstly, I want to say how proud I am of myself for growing so much during this fic. I learned a lot about what I'm comfortable with, what I'd like to work on, and where my confidences lie.

I won't lie and say it's been easy, because writing this meant dealing with a lot of my fears? I'm excited for all the works that are to come.

The only thing I can do is be as receptive to growth as possible, so I'm looking forward to learning...

*I actually learned that Vaseline wasn't invented until like the 1870s? The fic is written in the 1810s, so I actually had a choice between having them do it with vegetable oil or spit. Spit won.

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5 years ago

You bend over to pick up an apple that had rolled over under your father's produce cart, praying that it isn't bruised so that you have to pay for it out of your dinner, when a crumpled piece of paper hits you in the ass.

Confused, you crawl out from under the stand and unwrap the paper.

The paper itself is of the finest quality you've ever seen. It's a sturdy cardstock, bleached white with gold etchings on the borders. The print on the top of it reads "His Highness Jeon's Royal Study," and scribbled in some kid's amateur cursive below, "Nice butt."

You directed your gaze upwards, towards the towering castle walls. Sure enough, a boy no older than 15 had his noggin popping out from the top of the rampart, with two wide eyes staring down, curious as to your reaction. This was Prince Jungkook, heir to the throne of your kingdom.

"Shouldn't you be equestrian horse riding or playing polo or something?" You shout. He furrows his eyebrows, apparently offended at your assumption, and then disappears behind the edifice.

Moments later, another paper hits your shoulder as you're practicing your caligraphy behind your cart. It lands between the apples, so you reach your hand over and fish out out.

You glance up at the anticipant, and sure enough he's there with his doe eyes and his coconut head, ogling.

"No, dumbie. That's at MID-day." Well how were YOU supposed to know the royal schedule of the crown prince, it wasn't just common knowlegde you learned from being a humble farmer's daught--

Ah!

"Will you STOP?!" You put your foot down. "Unless you're here to buy my apples, then you're not getting ANY, little Prince." Oh, shit. You gave him ideas. Now it was really over for you.

In less than half an hour, half a company of men arrived at the marketplace, asking about your little old apple stand, and sure enough, Jungkook had bought out the entire cart so that you were forced to help with the transaction.

The young prince had eyes frankly too big for his head, with the most prominent cupid's bow you've ever seen. His nose slightly outgrew his face and his ears were hidden away behind his short, black hair. "Now you can talk to me." He gave you a rose he'd stolen from the royal garden. "I am Jungkook, heir to the throne of--"

"I know who you are." You interrupt him, documenting His Highness' total in your calligraphy book.

With a hand perched on his chest from surprise, he scoffed. "And I happen to think you're really pretty, so I was going to ask you to be my very first consor--"

"You're 15, you have playmates not consorts."

"And how old are you?!" He's had it, raising his voice and taking a bite out of one of your apples with force.

"16, old enough to have suitors." You tease. Jungkook hangs his head a little. He just needed someone to talk to, it would seem. Reluctantly, you scribbled down your address down on a piece of note paper and handed it to him.

"Look, if you buy more of my apples, I'll have an excuse to tell my Dad so I can hang out with you." You spoke in a low voice as to not raise suspicion.

Your dad is standing negotiating with the guards about prices, his usual embarassing haggling gruffly overpowering the guards elegant twiddle-tones.

"Wonderful! See you soon, my sweet!" He resumes his confident demeanor, tucking the paper into his overcoat with a small smile. He salutes you boyishly and marches away with a year's supply of apples.

For the next week, the royal kitchen had baked 3 apple pies, made 5 fruit salads, 4 batches of apple muffins, and threw the rest of them in Sangria; that's the same Sangria as King Jeon finds himself drinking in his wife's drawing room on Sunday.

"Call Chef, fetch him up here." He waves to his assistant, keeping his eyes on the outside. He was deep in thought, his hands stoicly behind his back.

The Kingdom had been prosperous for over many years now, and war had not come close to threatening its borders in a lifetime. Negotiations were always successful, and quality of living was high. The work of a King, in a situation such as this, was to perfect the image of the royal family as strong rulers, and to paint his daughters as desirable to foreign heirs.

"Your Grace," the assistant called his attention, "Head Chef Sung." The dainty man bows and scurries off somewhere else.

Chef Sung is a portly man, who carries himself heaving with every step, his great belly inflating with each hefty inhale. He approaches the King, and kneels down to kiss his hand with his fat lips.

The King recoils in disgust, but quickly collects himself and his words. "Where are these apples from, is it France or Spain?" He demands.

"Neither, Your Highness." Mr.Sung lifts up his eyes. "They are from our Holy Kingdom; by order of Prince Jungkook, an entire cart was purchased of these apples and we have not been able to get rid of them." Tears threatened Chef Sungs eyes at the very mention of the fruit.

'Well, there's one thing the kid's done right.' King Jeon now faces the Chef, setting down his drink on a mahogany table, leaning against it casually. "Well! Good. I'd like to meet the owner of that cart, invite him to my Sunday brunch."

"Oh, yes, of course sir! You'll never see them in our kitchen aga--What?" Chef Sung takes out his handkerchief, waving it around in the air and drying his tears at once. "So you like them! Why...Yes! Yes, of course!"

Your father thought it would be valuable to have you around the kitchen, learning from the skilled men and women employed by the Jeon family. He only visited once a week to drop off fresh produce, (he'd been officially hired to handle restocking of goods) but you, after showing promising signs of being a gifted baker during one of your father's restocks, were granted scholarship by Ms.Kang to be her aid.

You were now, officially, a resident of the Jeon Estate, residing in the servant's quarters, immediately adjacent to the kitchen. This was convenient. It was far too convenient for a certain little Prince to get the idea of wanting a midnight snack and wandering downstairs.

One day, he does just that. He finds his way into the first bedroom to the right of the stairs facing the kitchen, and that happens to be your bedroom.

He pokes you awake. "Ow! Ow, whyyy~" You whine and toss yourself over to the other side of the bed. His irritating poking persists. You grab his fingers and your eyes shatter open.

You sit up, alarmed. "You could have me arrested, what the fuck are you doing?!"

"I wanted a midnight snack! Besides, I wanna talk to you." He pouts, still holding a small teddy companion.

"Fine. I'll bake you ONE sheet of cookies." You slip on your night shoes and shuffle to the kitchen, and Jungkook tags along.

By the time Jungkook's 18th birthday comes around, he's in the kitchen helping you whisk buttercream to top his cake while having a tease at the Austrian Princess' mole.

"You have one right under your lip, look!" You take a little buttercream from the bowl and stain the dark spot with it.

He licks it up and hastens to add, "it needs more sugar, lady!" as he turns to grab a puffy bag of confection sugar.

"You're impossible to please." Snatching the sugar away from him, you smirk. "You can gobble down as many sweets as you want when the ball commences. Remember, this is the year you're supposed to be keeping your eye out for a girl of a good fam--"

"Yada yada, must have hips for childbearing, yada yada yada..." He mocks the speech his mother had told him that morning when he got dressed.

"Exactly." You set your bowl aside to fix Jungkook's tie. "Yes, and that's your duty, as our heir."

You step back and examine Jungkook one more time. He'd grown so tall in the last year, his legs like spider's and he was just beginning to grow into his features. Handsome boy.

You, too, had grown into an elegant young woman. You had a poised complexion, ready-mannered and graceful. Your hands seemed out of place in your otherwise feminine frame, carrying an extra bit of girth from baking. You were 19 years old.

Marriage was becoming an uncomfortably frequent topic during your visits home, as your mother had married young, herself, she expected the same of you.

Truth be told, there were plenty of offers for your hand. You were a skilled and very esteemed individual, who had broken into thr artisinal class. But your father knew better than put a dowry on your happiness. So long as you worked, he saw no reason to marry you off just yet.

"Now, go. Your sisters must be worried sick! Go out there." You shoo him, pushing him out the door of the kitchen despite his flailing arms.

Throughout the party, you'd been carrying a platter of your own baked goods, serving them to the aristocrats attending the Princes' coming-of-age ball. Accents from all over Europe and some from Kingdoms as far East as Cyprus jubilantly engaged in artful conversation which filled the air with good spirits.

Jungkook, himself, was busy being introduced to as many women as possible, a medley of presenting duchesses, ladies, and even Princesses of your Kingdom. They were each more qualified than you'll ever be, ten-fold.

One was a Greek Princess, her hair cascaded in darling curls down her shoulders and her eyes were deep-set, her voice a flirtatious trill.

Another, a Prussian Princess', posture radiated excellency, and whose complexion sparkled like powdered snow. Jungkook greeted her warmly, pleased with her appearance.

Distracted, you tripped up your skirt and dropped the remainder of your pastries. With that, you stepped off to use the restroom.

The sound of Strauss' Rosen aus dem Süden faintly loomed in the air as you wiped tears from your waterline in the mirror. That was just the way it was, wasn't it? Princes come of age, and they find wives who they commit their lives to.

"Married men don't have friends who are girls." You say out loud, just to realize it. Jungkook was now expected to find a mate within the season, and he was, in fact, quite the eligible bachelor.

Little did you know that Jungkook had been keeping an eye out for you throughout the party, not only because you were carrying his favorite Danish pastires, but because he knew your company was his greatest comfort.

He's in the midst of greeting the Duchess of Kent when he excuses himself to go look for you. He finds your mess first, frowning as he realizes something has gone terribly wrong.

He catches you in the hallway, face puffy and shaky. He grabs your wrist to keep you from darting back to the kitchen.

"Please don't do this, it's my birthday, y/n." It's as if an unspoken rule had been broken between you, and he feels it. Something is making you uncomfortable. "Was it the girls? You told me about this, it's my duty to at least greet them and--"

"Yeah, you sure did greet the Prussian woman nicely." You speak through tears. "She's the girl you were born to be with, huh? Your birthright?"Jungkook is silent. "Every girl at that ball wants to be your wife, want to have your children. They haven't known you for a day and yet they're ready to be your bride."

You search Jungkook's eyes for any sign of coherence, hoping that he would defend against you, that he would speak up and tell you otherwise. No such argument comes.

You yank your arm from his grip and march to the kitchen to remake the pastries you spilled.

You had the job of clearing off all the tables upon the departure of the last guests. It is midnight, and the windows of the castle stream moonlight down on the carpet beneath your feet. The glow of candles soothe you as you hum the waltzes which echo in your mind. It's a brilliant evening.

The centerpieces of the tables were gardenias, lush rose-like flowers with yellow pistils.

Summer, 1809

"Jungkook, wait! You're going to make me trip!" You shout from the top of the hill.

"You've gotta come see before the sun sets! It's the only way we'll get there on time, now run!" Jungkook's speeding down the terrain towards the Sycamore tree which grew deep and wide beneath the banks of a great rushing river.

You groan and throw caution to the wind, rolling down the steep mount in your Sunday dress. Jungkook turns to watch you, a grin spreading across his handsome face. "Look at you!"

You land on your feet at the bottom and scurry off to join Jungkook under the grandfather tree, out of breath entirely. "Now, look what you made me do. You're such a boy, you know that?! Making me come out here just to see some bloody--"

Jungkook has plucked a gardenia and placed it behind your ear. "Would you shut up? We got here on time. Behold."

In all its glory, the sun bathes you in its vivacious rays, creating a feeling of heavenly bliss as it dips below the horizon. The sky blushes pink, its clouds mere whisps above you. Wind rustles the leaves of the grand tree, rousing the birds to chirp their afternoon song.

"Mom used to come here all the time with my Dad, because of these." Jungkook clasped the blooming flower in his tender hands.

After a while, he says "the bugs will come out soon, so we ought to go back," as if he's trying not to scare something away. He helps you up, and with one last look across the valley, you walk next to each other back to the East Quarters.

You take all the silverware and plates by the tub to the dish-washing station and toss all of the linen napkins into the washing machine. All you had left was to blow out the lights in leading upstairs.

"Prince! It is very late, and there are no guests left for you to entertain. What troubles you?" Jungkook's sitting on the stairs with his head in his hands, still wearing his best suit.

"I disappointed you, y/n...I didn't like any of them." He admits, lifting his head up to sulk at you. "I should have told you then, but I didn't want to make you upset!"

Did Jungkook mistake your jealousy for disappointment?

"I'm not upset because you didn't hit it off with the girls..." You sigh. A confession is due, and he's ready to hear the truth from you about how you feel about him.

"Well, the truth is, I didn't like any of the girls because I like you, y/n. But you know that, don't you?" You pause, asking him to elaborate.

"Remember when I bought all the apples because I wanted to be with you? Like...I told you that you were my consort and I kind of meant it?" He felt pathetic now, realizing that you weren't just ignoring his advances. "So you didn't friendzone me for 2 years, you actually didn't know that I liked you."

It was almost laughable, a situation you would read in one of your illegal novels which you kept tucked away in your pillow at night. "No, Kookie, I didn't." You admit to your insolence.

You can't bear to lead him on any longer. You needed to put duty over your own self interest for the sake of the kingdom, even if it shattered his hope. It was better this way.

"But, you do know that we can't ever be a thing, right? It's just silly." Your heart tightens with the words which fall out of your mouth. "It is. Nevermind what your parents would think, what would it do for your image? You're on the world's stage, Jungkook, and you're a selfish person if you think you can just throw all of your duties away to date a scum of the Earth like-- like me!" With your heart in your throat, dry your eyes with your sleeve. "And...I want to, I really really want to, more than anything else to love you, Jungkook. I love you! I...can't." Through the blur of your tears, the shapeless blob that Jungkook has become stands up.

Taking his thumb and swiping it under your eyes, he sighs. Words escaping him, he takes your trembling body against his chest and nestles his head in the crook of your neck. Your cold hands travel underneath his overcoat to hold his waist. The Princes' lips plant a gentle kiss on your neck, chaste yet deep and satisfying.

"I will not accept any bride if not you, my love." He draws back, meeting your fervid gaze. "To the world, I remain a bachelor for a few years."

"And after those years, Jungkook?" You ride your hands up to caress the man's jaw. "You will still love me after those years, and then what?"

"I don't know," he says, voice as soft as powder. "I don't know many things, y/n, that's why I need you to teach me." His palms are rubbing at your waist, beckoning you closer.

His breath quickening as you lean your body against his hold, and you figure it must be the wine he drank to calm his nerves. That was it, wasn't it? He was drunk.

"You're not drunk, are you?" Your face sours, really hoping it's not the case as you feel your body temperature rise.

"Y/N, I've only had a glass. You saw I was a wreck back there." His lips kept chasing yours in a dance you can't quite describe. "I have wanted to hold you like this since I saw you selling apples on the street. Give me the honor..." His forehead against yours and his strong hands supporting your back, he's already fucking you with his eyes.

"The pleasure of being your lover." He squeezes your waist tight with his forearms, planting brisk kisses behind your ear and breathing in your scent. He smiles against you. Your skin pebbles at his affectionate touch, purring softly as your eyes roll back in delight.

"Kookie..." You breathe, leaning on his broad chest. "Kook, the maids are wondering where I am, I have to go..." You slur, tugging at his collar.

He grunts in protest, taking your ear between his teeth and nibbling it.

"If you let me go, I'll steal some cake for you tomorrow at breakfast." If there's anything Jungkook likes more than Cream Ice, it was cake. He unravels you from his arms and nods, his eyes softening.

"Request my service tomorrow, from Ms.Kang. She's been sweet on me lately." You peck his cheek before stepping back. Your rouge has embarrassingly stained His Grace's cheek.

Jungkook bows and presses a kiss on your hand, eyes rising to meet yours. "Til' morrow, babe."

Jiyoo shakes you awake the next morning, handing you a cake and a note that reads: "Prince Jungkook has a commission he must discuss with you. Meet him at his chamber immediately."

Lacing on a simple corset over your nightgown, you try not to look too red in the face as you climb up the stairs to His Majesty's room. You'd be up there alone, as requested. The girls would absolutely start rumors based on that alone-- rumors which you realize are probably totally true. This was stuff of scandal, after all...

'There shouldn't be anything scandalous about love.' You decide as you rap on His Highness' door.

"Please enter...but only if you have my cake!" Jungkook says in his morning voice. He's so cute.

The simplicity of Jungkook's abode takes you by surprise. His bedroom is very well lit, a capital display of the flowered valley through his bay windows washed the room in gold, painting his porcelain white carpets and his cotton sheets a warm creme color. His drawers and vanity were etched in gold, with breathtaking detailing.

The Monarch himself was splayed across the bed, laying on his side casually. He held a glass in his hand, holding a white wine. He puts down his glass and sits up as your presence.

"We both know that you didn't come here as my servant." You lock the door behind you. "And I have no such commission to give you, darling." The innocence which undertones his usual speech is missing as he coaxes you towards him.

"This much I know, Your Majesty," You say, taking a bit of frosting on your index finger and smudging it on the Princes lips. His black eyes, as cunning as a viper, watch you dangerously as you push two fingers past his plush lips. He wraps his hands around your wrist and draws your hand away, his gaze fixating on you.

"Set the cake down." At his command, you carefully place the confection down on a nearby chest, feeling Jungkook's eyes on you, drawing you back towards his grip.

"Let me pull your laces apart," with your waist held by his Herculean hand, he hums "and then let me pull you apart. I want to memorize your pleasures and gratify your desires, I need it, y/n..." Your back flush against his chest and your thighs split, his hands knead into you as he litters your collar with his mark.

You gasp softly against the crook of his neck, giving into his hold of you. His hot tongue spreads under your jaw, closing into a hard kiss as his hands travel back up to undo your corset and free your tits.

One by one, his fingers pop open the buttons left on your gown until the collar hangs off-shoulder to expose your collarbone. At the sight of new skin, Jungkook's tongue darts to stain it.

His hands stagger above your breasts. "Is it okay if I touch you here?"

"Oh, Kookie, touch me everywhere~" Your hands form fists around Jungkook's shirt, beckoning him impossibly closer.

Grasping one ever so carefully, his thumb grazes your bud as he playfully bites under your ear. "ah-- ahh,"

Jungkook groans in response, he can't believe how cute you sound. Curious, he wants to hear more, so he traces your thighs and experimentally pushes up the outside your cunt.

You squirm, tensing up immediately in response. You bring your hands down to find the latch on his trousers and dip your hands below to rub him through his undergarments. He heatedly bucks up to meet your touch, a panting mess.

You face him now as he watches you ride his fingers while you grip his girth through his clothes. He takes you by the ass and places you on his prominent bulge, hips rolling into you as he hungrily kisses you, his firm hands grinding your core on his cock.

His face is a sinful red, panting under you desperately.

"I've been wanting to do this," His voice warbles through your touch, running your thumb along his underside. It's his turn to gasp. He sits up and collapses his lips into yours, softer than rose petals and his taste faintly like wine.

You place your hand on his chest, and his heart is pounding, a thin layer of sweat already forming on his honeylike complexion.

Hastily, you pull your dress over your head and lean back to allow him to familiarize himself with your stark form, a dainty chain hanging between your bosom. Jungkook bites his lips as he wriggles out of his clothing, desposing of it beside the bed.

He's giddy behind those sultry eyes, you know him well enough that he's overexcited to get inside of you. It goes straight to his cock, your playfulness as you feel up his bare shoulders and discover his abdominals, your fingers tracing his ridges with a sense of innocent wonder.

He takes your hands and looks at you in this way-- Butterflies fill your stomach instantly. Jungkook's thumbing at your pout with his intrepid fingers.

His eyes flutter when grip his base and submerge your upper body below his hips. You lick a long, thick stripe up his underside, causing his breath to hitch and his head to fall back on to the bed.

Those goddamn cupid's bow lips of his would whisper the dirtiest things under his breath, lewd thoughts that sounded completely alien coming from His Majesty's mouth, he said for you.

"Oh, such a pretty mouth~ It's so good, y/n, you swallow me so good--" he moaned like a mantra, trying to keep his hips from snapping up into you. Your hot, wet tongue wrapped around his throbbing cock was only a fantasy to him for years.

He fills your throat with his girth, his taste tantalizingly smooth. It leaves your mouth with a 'pop.' You struggle to keep your legs apart as you crawl up to kiss him.

He takes those fingers of his and slides his index and middle into you and languidly thrusts them, smirking against your lips. "Shit, you liked that, hmm..."

"Kookie...please," you whine as he squeezes your ass hard before smacking it. You yelp, the sting of his fingers radiating from your skin.

"I like it when you beg, y/n, it's so cute..." He pulls your ass up to his thighs. He's flush hard against your abdomen, already sticky with his precum and your spit. You marvel at the self control he has.

You don't finish your thought before he has his head inside of you, impaling you on his cock and stretching your entrance, hissing at how incredible it felt to have you around him.

His shaft reached pleasure points within you had yet to discover. You clench, feeling his tip brush against your cervix. "Wh... hngh," he groans, "how did you do that, do it again--" You wrap your legs around his thighs and clench around him, biting your lip. You watch as he shivers from pleasure, feeling his skin horripilate under your touch.

His thumb is softly circling above your clit as he pulls out of you carefully. He swirls back in, nestling himself inside your heat, hissing. "Ahh~ Jungkook~!" At the sound of his first name moaned out of your mouth, he groans and rolls his hips up to create messy friction. That familiar knot in your stomach tingles as he plays with the bundle of nerves buried within you.

He glances up at your ruined lips, clashing with them again as he lifts your knees up with his hands and thrusts nice and rough, making you yell with every jolt of his cock. The smell and sound of sex fills the room as he experiments with positions, laying you on all fours.

"Get your ass up for me." You obey, ever servile. You're reminded-- you're his servant. He owns your work, he owns your services, and now he wants you in the most lucrative way, he wants your soaked cunt around his imperial cock. He gets what he wants.

Jungkook's palms smack against your ass one more time, just to watch the way it jiggles for him. He smirks a little before he shoves himself into your pretty little cunt. You bury your face into the pillows in pelasure as he chases your orgasm with vigor, fingering your clitoris while you move your hips back to meet his hard thrusts.

You whine like a harlot, his cock allowing you every satisfaction as he works a head-spinning orgasm out of that cunt. "I'm gonna cum, Kookie~!" you warn as you spasm against his length, moans ripping from your throat as you coat him with your thick juices.

His hips stutter up and he just barely pulls himself completely from you as he paints your back white, a guttural groan escaping his mouth.

After a while of loud panting and scattered giggling, Jungkook reaches over for a wet cloth and cleans the both of you gingerly. You trail your hands up to caress his jaw and kiss his lips softly.

"You need to tell everyone that I had a long and extensive request for the Harvest party, that I wanted a lot of fall fruits and vegetables featured in the baked goods, make it as specific as possible and make sure that you mention that I want to meet with you again, over dinner." His labored breathing punctuate his words, as youd kisses consume him. "And..."

"And?" You cock an eyebrow, simpering.

"Doyouthinkmaybeyoucouldbringmesomemilktogowithmycake?" He mumbles, eyes glued on the bed.

"What?" (If you give a Kookie a Cookie...)

Disgruntled, he sighs and repeats: "Milk! Milk for my cake. I know it's moist cause you made it but I'm really thirsty, especially after..." His cheeks flush a cute pink. You wait for him to continue just to fluster him a little more. "Y/N, just please!" You can't ever refuse his pouty face.

Next week, Jungkook's got you pinned against the hallway wall, making out with you hungrily as his hands ride up your dress. Just across the hall, his Dad is negotiating war with Portugal over land in the West.

The next month, you have his cock buried in your throat underneath the table at an important conference about how to create jobs.

All this while the pressure for Jungkook to find a bride continues to rise as he reaches seniority, and as his father's grey hairs pronounce themselves.

Warm touches are always hidden away to the public eye, but often shared between two kindred spirits underneath the man in the moon's watchful eye. Jungkook, as he reaches his maturity, grows strong. His jaw sharpens, and his eyes darken. His hair grows long, and he gains weight. Now at the proud age of 20, Jungkook had become a man before everyone's eyes, including the eyes of foreign monarchs and their eligible bachelorettes.

One day, you're serving the Royal family at a private dinner, when the topic of marriage comes up for the first time since his birthday.

"Your mother has made friends with the mother of the Austrian Princess, and she's invited you to the cordial ball to introduce yourself to the Princess. An allyship with Austria would prove advantageous for our relations with France, so you are to make your best impression." The King wipes his mouth. Setting his fork down, he continues: "It is in the family's best interest for you to marry her, if the French Princess, Anastasie, does not present this season or the next." The Queen holds the King's hand firmly, reassuring him from his shoulder. She wears a slight frown on her face, her eyes worrisome, somber. The King hides his anxiety, as he's been accustomed to from decades of responsibility. Would this be the face of Jungkook soon?

For now, Jungkook's face is scrunching at the thought of marrying Anastasie. She's not the most delightful young woman, her imprudence ruined her enjoyment of any event. She couldn't keep an intuitive conversation about regional politics and domestic policy for the life of her. Her people were on the brink of overthrowing the aristocracy, he was sure of it.

"Yes, father," is what you hear from him before you disappear down the stairs to fetch desserts.

Jiyoo interrupts your quest for sweets with a letter, signed by His Grace. She has a naturally innocent demeanor, her cheeks rosy and her frame as delicate as a feather. "Y/N, you have another special request from His Majesty...can I ask you why you get so many of these?" She looks genuinely curious, not a single menacing thought behind those eyes.

"It's because the Prince really really loves his cake." I mean, technically it was true. Jungkook never passed up an opportunity to squeeze, smack, or dig his fingernails into your ass during your sessions.

"Oh." Jiyoo pouts. "So it's not because you're like, in love or anything?" Her eyes are glued to the floor. You were expecting this question eventually, as the other girls in the kitchen were already suspecting it. It was only a matter of time before word slipped into the girl's ears.

"As much as I enjoy the Prince's interest in my baking, it isn't my place to confess any sort of feeling for him." Your answer is straightforward enough, so Jiyoo nods and hands you the letter. Another request.

Outside the Palace, Winter came like the wind. Lakes froze over, and couples tied up their skates and danced on the ice. The trees were bare and brown, not a single leaf persisting through the chilling breath of Jack Frost.

Jungkook had left for the Winter Palace, to volunteer and raise spirits up in the North. As heir to the throne, he was to be Commander in Chief of the Royal Armed Forces, and therefore needed to undergo intensive training in order to boost morale.

You're back home, and in your wake is your father, who has now grown tangibly tired. He's been on a strict diet of warm vegetable soup for about three months, now. His eyes are sunken, but he still wears a subtle smile even during his most trying days.

Match girls make their rounds at night, you watch as the lamplighters illuminate the streets with their tall ladders and their taller peacoats. Shop windows glow warm shades of yellow and creme; inscriptions on the glass create shadows on the white snow.

"Wow. It's almost as cold as the King's heart out here." You step outside one day with a cup of tea, sneaking in a cheeky smirk. Yeah, good one.

"I heard that!" You turn towards the little voice. A child, maybe about 9 or 10 years old is pointing at you. You squint at it.

"Well, it's true..." You mumble. You have a bit of change in your pocket, so you walk towards a stand to buy a hot bun and a paper.

"Chilly today, hon...Best you take this on the house." The tenant hands you a steaming cake wrapped in a simple cloth and your paper. You stick the paper in your dress pocket and take back your change. You nod a 'thank you.'

You spill the contents of your pockets on the dining table and snatch the paper, snapping it open. Your eyes eagerly skim the headline: "Prince Jungkook Fires Up Royal Army." Below is an article detailing the happenings of His Majesty. All of it sounded very intense, the running, strategizing, first aid training...Was there anything Prince Jeon couldn't nail on the first try?

You set the paper down and pick up your now lukewarm tea. In the back of your mind you're coping with the fact that the Spring Solstice is next week, and that marks the beginning of Jungkook's last season as a Prince.

The King is ill with tuberculosis, and recovery is unlikely. If Jungkook is to marry, it is next season and that was final.

Sitting at the window of his Winter Castle study, Jungkook plays with a ring nestled between his fingers. He looks out onto the lake, as if he's trying to reach you with his gaze. His heart is tight knowing that it would be the season he chooses his bride. Actually, he'd already made up his mind long ago. If his duty was to marry, there was no way to evade such a responsibility. He had to fulfill it, despite his anxieties.

He straightens up and walks out of the hollow room with a firm step.

You awaken with the sound of horse's hooves thudding against the Earth. It is yet to be dawn, and in the distance, thunder roars mightily.

A figure wearing a long, black hood hoists itself off of the animal, tying it to a nearby post. It walks towards an obscure entrance, unknown to many staff.

Intrigued, you wrap a blanket around yourself and peek out at the stranger. His fingers are shorter than his palms, and that's when he tosses of his hood, his eyes set on you. "Y/N..."

You're bewildered by his guise, questions filling your head.

"I was horny, so I left camp" He sits down at the counter, catapulting a cookie into his mouth.

You roll your eyes. "And the guards let you?! Jungkook!" You whisper-yelled at him, readjusting your makeshift blanket-dress.

"Obviously not!" He puffed out his chest with pride. "I bribed them," he smirks.

"You're insufferable," you scoff, your eyes wandering down to observe his physique. His shirt is anything but conservative, highlighting the muscle he'd earned through laborious, sweat-inducing drills. You can feel his eyes on your face as you observe him.

"You can't hide it either," he crosses his arms. "You're standing in the kitchen with a blanket around your naked body." He flicks his tongue. He steps forward, putting a finger under your jaw so you're looking him in the eye.

Your eyes fill with lust as he speaks over your lips. "Look at yourself..." A crash is heard in the other room.

Jungkook's head darts up and in a flash, he disappears into the night.

'Fuck.' You gather your dress from the floor and shuffle back to your chamber.

The first event of the season commences with the most exaltant of spirits as friends of old greet each other with youthful smiles. Juicy exposés, enticing tales, and thoughtful greetings are exchanged in the most formal manner, and the conversation is lively; the most controversial topic of conversation, however, is the rumor that Jungkook is to marry this season.

So far, he's been to four different private residences within his own Kingdom and has been invited, by the secretary of King Louis XVII to meet their daughter. It would be an understatement to say that stakes were high for the pending King.

You were kneading your dough a little too hard thinking about it. "Not so rough, y/n!" Ms.Kang snatches the mixture from your hands. "What is up with you lately, you're so tense! It's really disrupting the kitchen's dynamic."

You shrug it off. "It's going to be hard sedating Anastasie's sweet tooth, I suppose."

"Well, you seem to be doing just fine dealing with Jungkook's addiction to cakes...She's perfect for him, really." Ms.Kang throws more flour on your kneading table and steps off. You give up on the dough, covering it with a cloth and letting it rise.

Jungkook is tapping his feet, munching on finger sandwiches as he waits on you to make an appearance.

"Dearest Prince, look, I am wearing Mediterranean violet!" A duchess shouts as she passes by him, to which he raises his eyebrows at. Another, with dark green eyes approaches and begins speaking rapidly in French at him. Frightened and undereducated, his canned response was: "Excusez-moi, Pouvez-vous répéter plus lentement s'il vous plaît," to which the duchess furrows her eyebrows before something else catches her attention, elsewhere.

Truth is, Jungkook is incredibly shaken at the thought of announcing his engagement tonight. Well, that and the fact that you had yet to pop out of the kitchen. Man, those finger sandwiches were good.

As the night progresses, Jungkook realizes that if he doesn't get up on that platform and say what he needed to say, he'd have to say it in London. Setting his fears aside, he plants himself on top of the orchestral stage and taps a champagne glass with a cheese fork. The music comes to a stop.

With conviction, he begins: "The time has come that I announce my engagement. To all of my beloved friends, who have introduced me to the most beautiful, talented, diverse, and benevolent ladies I've come to get to know over the years, I thank you from the depths of my soul." He swallows and continues, his confident voice masking his trembling. "The life of a Prince is defined by the virtues presented to him at birth. Those virtues are: duty, responsibility, grace, kindness, mercy and integrity." Here comes the part, oh shit.

"I am abdicating my throne to my Cousin, the Duke of Namseong."

Silence sweeps the room. You poke your head out to see what was going on.

"...to marry the love of my life, y/n." He points at you. Your face is cherry red, and you find yourself dropping those same Danish fucking pastries all over the carpet.

"Shit," you fall on your knees, plucking them from the ground one by one. You don't know whether to run as fast as you can or to present yourself, but your body seems to be currently doing the latter. You go along with it.

Jungkook takes your hand tenderly on the stage. "I am unable to perform my duties as King, and therefore am ineligible for the throne." His touch gives you the will to continue beside him. You feel the pure fear rushing through your love's veins, and he knows that this is the hardest thing he'll ever have to do, yet he stands by his announcement.

So, if Jungkook doesn't get to be King of this World, he at least will forever be the King of Your Heart.

But all this, of course...is all in Your, dear reader, Head.

a/n:

hope you enjoyed.

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tlou-1 · 4 years ago

Text

(Joel x Reader) - Home (Ch 3)

Chapter 3 - Patrol Partner

You awaken abruptly to banging on the door, followed by Bruce’s barking at the door. Shit - you had overslept and by quite a bit. You push the covers off and run down the stairs as quickly but calmly as possible. You could hear Jesse calling you from outside. “I am coming Jesus Christ!” you called as you opened the door.

“Well good morning to you too Y/N” Jesse laughed as he propped himself against the door.

“I know, I know, I have overslept. I was working the bar last night too” you replied, gesturing him to wait inside while you got your shit together.

“Why do you work yourself so hard, you know someone else could have picked up that shift?” He questioned taking a seat on the sofa whilst you went to ready yourself for the morning patrol.

Jesse had been a good friend since you had arrived in Jackson a few years ago. He was a number of years younger than you, being in his early twenties but ever since you started patrols together you became each others confidants, watching and guarding each others backs. He always asked and worried about how much work you took on but he knew it was just to keep yourself busy. You gave yourself a quick wash, changed into jeans, boots and a light jacket.

“Good to go” you said to Jesse still in the process of braiding your hair off your face. He shook his head “I take it we are still to drop old Bruce here off at Molly’s?”. You smile patting your fluffy, black mastiff “Aw stop stressing, she only lives across the road and I thought you would love an excuse to see her.” You nudge him jokingly before leaving you load your bag with the essentials;

Pistol, Rifle, Knife, Med kit, Water

“We are taking the new guy out today” Jesse says as you are locking the door behind you.

“Huh?” You weren’t really listening trying to remember if there was anything you had forgoten. Honestly maybe Jesse was right and you were taking on too much because your head was all over the place.

You hear a young voice calling out in exclamation “Holy shit Joel, look at the size of that dog!”. A young girl with auburn hair in a ponytail comes flying towards you, Jesse and Bruce.

“Ellie, slow down would ya!” You hear a familiar voice shout from across the street. The girl is sitting by Bruce staring at him in amazement. He seemed to like her, putting his head under her hand, inviting her to pet him.

“He is the size of a horse and so slobbery too” she laughs and she begins to pet his big head. “His name is Bruce and he seems to be pretty fond of you” you smile at her, what a spirited kid you thought.

Joel comes running across the street after her “Ellie, what did I say about running off” he exclaims putting the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

“So Y/N meet your new patrol partner for the day” Jesse smiled throwing Joel the keys to the stable.

“Good Morning Joel” You smiled sleeply still waking up a bit.

“You already know each other?” Jesse asked confused.

“We already met last night” Joel explained “So looks like you’ll be showing me the ropes today, hope that’s not a bother. I asked Tommy to let me follow him but apparently you know the Crest Trail inside-“.

“I do” you interrupt - What is it with men and always thinking another man could do it better than you ever could?

“So as long as you can keep up and are as half a good shot as Jesse, it’s not a bother at all”. Joel scoffs, Jesse looks uncomfortable but Ellie laughs, “ I like her, she’ll keep you on your toes… and I like her dog”. You let her pet Bruce and offer him and your sister to keep her company whilst her Dad patrols with you.

“Eh Joel isn’t my Dad but that would be nice, I don’t know what there is to do around here yet” Ellie shrugs. You reassure her, she will get settled and meet some friends but in the meantime she could help Molly with some of Bruces training. Seemed strange is Joel wasn’t her Dad you wondered how did they cross paths and come to resemble a family living in Jackson.

___________________________

“Jeez you weren’t kidding when you said you could use that thing” Joel scoffs. You had followed the Crest Trail to its peak and spotted some infected across the way, too far off the path to reach but nothing your rifle and a scope couldn’t handle.

You offer Joel a chance to take out a couple infected across the way, always good practice and of course turns out he is an amazing shot just like his brother.

“Alright Texas Ranger, no need to look so pleased with yourself’ you laugh. He smirks and shrugs at you.

“Look Joel, I’m sorry I was sharp with you earlier. I am sure you didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just some of the guys in Jackson seem to be constantly doubting what I am capable of and I am better at patrols than most of them” You sigh strapping your rifle to your holster. It was true, Jesse, Tommy, Maria and Molly were some of the few that actually would admit your level skill.

“I get it. You don’t need to explain to me. You met Ellie, well that little girl doesn’t let anyone tell her what or how something should be done, rightly so. Even in our guitar lessons, she tries to correct me” He laughs and you can’t help but join in.

After signing in at the post and a final check you take Joel out to the balcony.

“I want to show you something - see that over there?” you ask.

“The hotel? Oh, the shop”. You pointed to the music shop next to it. Its only about a half hour ride from here and you thought he might be able to find Ellie a guitar there so she could have one of her own for during their lessons.

At the music shop you discuss your musical interest, when Joel learned to play guitar, what you would like to be able to play if you could play. He manages to find an extra and smaller guitar for Ellie but doesn’t have enough room for the record player he also spotted. “Oh well, there is always next time if its still here”, he shrugs and straps the guitar to his horse.

Your ride back with Joel is peaceful as the summer sun sets across the skyline. “So you want to start those guitar lessons up again, maybe there is a Jimmi Hendrix in you we just don’t know about yet?” He says smugly riding ahead of you.

“Texas cowboy you are lucky you’re ahead of me or I might knock you off that horse. I told you not to make fun of me after that” you shout as you try to catch up with him but by the time you do, you’re already at the town gates.

Jumping off your horses, Joel grabs his gear and guitar from his horse. “First lesson is tonight at 8 o’clock, don’t be late” he says cooly before walking off.

#tlou #tlou part 2 #Joel miller #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller imagine #Joel Miller series #Joel Miller smut #tlou part two #tlou part ii #the last of us fanfic #tlou fanfic #tlou2 fanfic #tlou2 jesse #dina tlou #ellie miller #ellie williams

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ijustwant2write · 5 years ago

Text

You'll Outlive Her-Thorin Oakenshield x Reader x Company (Part 2)

(GIF credit to @damon-salvatore)

Part 1

Masterlist

Tags: @andineversawyoucoming

Summary: Although Thorin keeps telling himself that the only love he has for (Y/N) is platonic, Balin can see that he is lying to himself. The company have not so subtly started to baby (Y/N), something which is starting to get on her nerves.

Characters: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader, Bilbo Baggins x Reader (platonic), Gandalf x Reader (platonic), Company x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Arguing, violence/fighting with weapons, blood, death, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The company pressed on with their journey, riding through different terrains and weather, their minds trying to get used to this perilous trek. There was no more talk of age, however, there had been a shift in dynamics within the group. (Y/N) couldn't put her finger on it at first; she noticed the men riding closer to her, more of them were sleeping beside her, with some of them even staying awake for longer to patrol their new campsite. Soon it clicked what was going on, and she wasn't happy about it.

In one way, it was touching that they cared so much for her after only knowing her for a short time. They meant no harm by it, they were looking out for their new friend, it had become a habit for them. However, there were some bad habits that needed to be stopped, and this was one of them. (Y/N) would always volunteer to check out the new areas for their campsite, followed by a round of protests, or the dwarves saying that at least four of them should go with her. She had always been able to climb onto her horse, now she was practically lifted onto it almost every time. It was getting to be far too much.

Surprisingly, Bilbo hadn’t been the worse. His worrying nature wasn’t heightened after he heard of her lifespan. Although it had come as a shock, he was able to recognise that look in her eyes; she was a strong, independent and smart woman, and she wasn’t being seen like that anymore. He obviously wasn’t a skilled Hobbit himself (not in fighting or surviving the great outdoors anyway), he knew how it felt to have these men look at you as weaker. Bilbo could see that it wasn’t out of spite towards (Y/N). Though that didn’t make it any less upsetting to her.

“For the last time, I am able to chop wood for the fire!” (Y/N) exclaimed to Fili as he took the axe away from her.

“We’ve had a long day, I will do it.” He answered smiling back at her.

“Yes, we have had a long day. So you’re probably just as exhausted as I am.”

Bilbo had been listening, quickly stepping in before (Y/N) chopped off something else with the axe.“Um, (Y/N)!”

He almost jumped back when he saw the enraged expression on her face.

“I...Sorry, I just need help with the, the...the uh...horses. Please.”

(Y/N) glanced back at Fili, huffing loudly as she stormed away. Bilbo followed after her, keeping his distance in case she had anymore weapons hidden away. Although there wasn’t a massive difference in height, Bilbo still had a hard time keeping up with her long strides. She abruptly stopped, spinning around to face the hobbit, who had to refrain from yelping. They stared at each other for a few seconds, the uneasiness building.

“Bilbo, what did you need help with?” (Y/N) suddenly snapped.

“Oh!” Bilbo remembered.“They....they need to be tied up properly.”

(Y/N) tugged on the reins, making sure they secure before turning back to Bilbo.“They’re fine. Has someone said something to you to make you doubt yourself?”

“No. I just thought I would stop an argument before it began...between you and Fili.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest as she sighed.“I appreciate that Bilbo but I can stand up for myself.”

“I know you can.”

“No, you don’t understand....wait, did you just agree with me?”

“Yes. I’ve noticed how much the others have been upsetting you. Though I promise that they aren’t doing it to make you feel inferior in any way.”

“I know. But they’ve only started treating me like this since finding out that I don’t live as long as they do. Which doesn’t make any sense, because they aren’t immortal.”

“Perhaps if you sit them all down, they will listen to you. You can try to get them to understand.”

(Y/N) thought about it.“That might work.”

“Yes, yes, let’s all gather around the fire, and we’ll talk about it as a group.”

(Y/N) followed Bilbo as he led them to the rest of the company, all of them watching as the pair approached. She was beginning to feel conscious about herself, trying to come up with the words that truly expressed how she was feeling. She had done this for the past few nights, when tossing and turning as she thought of what she could say to make them all understand. Now that the time was here, (Y/N) seemed to be speechless.

“What’s wrong?” Balin asked, starting the conversation.

“Wrong? Nothing is wrong per say, I mean there is something but-” Bilbo tried to ease (Y/N) in, though it was clear that he wasn’t helping.

(Y/N) interrupted.“I want to talk to you all about how you have been treating me.”

“It’s alright, you don’t have to thank us.” Ori smiled, not meaning to come off as rude.

“Thank you? You think I’m about to thank you?!” (Y/N) exclaimed, shocking them all.

“The boy meant no harm by it.” Dori tried to defend Ori.

“But that’s the thing, you are harming me! You all hurt me every time you treat me like some delicate princess, who-who-who is made of glass, and I’m going to shatter at any given moment if not looked after. It’s infuriating!” She was shouting, a raging fire burning in her eyes.

Gloin stood up quickly.“There’s no need to raise your voice at us, we’re only trying to protect you.”

“See? You’re not even listening now. You’ve all seen me practicing with a sword, you know I can handle a weapon and anyone who dares attack me. Yet all you do is baby me. I don’t need someone to help me onto my horse, I don’t need someone to build a fire for me, I don’t need someone to chop up wood for the fire!”

“Well, that doesn’t sound very grateful!” Oin piped up, grasping into the conversation.

(Y/N) groaned.“None of you are getting it! I appreciate the idea of you all looking after me, but not like this.”

She was met with blank stares which only made her more angry. For the second time that day, (Y/N) left the argument, disappearing into the woods. When the others called out to her she only yelled back at them.

“Can you just leave me alone for one minute?!”

The company were taken back by the outburst, feeling guilty as they reflected on their actions. Thorin had not been in the immediate circle of people, standing off to the side as he watched the young woman reveal her feelings. The dwarves were deep in thought, giving Thorin a chance to easily slip away. He was running, making sure he was heading in the right direction, seeing flashes of her body through the dense wood. They were in the mountains, and as the edge of the woods was in sight, he saw (Y/N) standing on a ledge, looking out at the sun quickly disappearing behind the mountains in the distance.

Her shoulders slumped down.“Thorin, I’m really not in the mood to talk anymore.”

He noticed the shakiness in her voice, deciding to slowly walk towards her.“I know. But even the most skilled fighter needs someone to keep an eye out for them.”

She saw him stand beside her in her peripheral vision.“They aren’t listening to me.”

“They have a deep love for you. It has developed very quickly, hence why they are acting like such fools.”

“Fools?”

Thorin took a deep breath, looking over the landscape before him.“That is what I said.”

“So you agree with me?”

“Yes.” he simply said.

(Y/N) hadn’t had many conversations with Thorin. He wasn’t a man of many words. But sometimes she wanted to. The others spoke to her (even though they were in the bad books), it would be nice to make a real connection with him. Thorin was a legend, he was courageous, knew how to be a leader. She admired him. It was at this point (Y/N) had realised that she had turned to look at him, and was staring for a tad too long at this point. Embarrassingly, the blood was rushing to her cheeks, and she hoped that the last light of the day didn’t show it.

Thorin had felt her eyes on him, and how desperate he had been to look into them. He knew he would be captivated, he would have been reluctant to look away. But judging by her body language, she had become nervous. The corners of his lips twitched up into a barely visible smile; however, there was a thought buried deep in his mind, telling him to not fall for this woman.

“I could have handled it better, don’t you think?” (Y/N) questioned, brave enough to face him.

Thorin still looked into the distance.“You were going to burst if you didn’t say something soon.”

“Wait, so you could see that I was upset?”

“Well, yes, I’m not like the others. I could see how it effected you.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

He was stumped, wondering how the dreamy atmosphere had disappeared. Now he looked at her, the furious expression back again.“It wasn’t my place to say-”

“If a member of your company has a problem, shouldn’t you try to fix it?”

“As I said, I wouldn’t interfere-”

“But it could have caused a bigger problem-”

“Let me finish speaking!” Thorin’s voice boomed, causing birds in a nearby tree to fly away.

(Y/N) realised how worked up she was getting again, actually thankful that he had put her in his place. She mumbled,“Sorry, I know you’re just trying to help me.”

“No, I am sorry, I did not need to raise my voice like that.”

The conversation paused. Thorin was waiting to ensure that it was alright for him to continue.

“This quest is no easy task. We all knew what we were signing up for after reading through those contracts. I only wanted people that would be dedicated, I needed the passion and need from my company to know that they weren’t only here for the potential riches. I know many of these men, so I trust who they think should come along. Gandalf recruited you and the Hobbit, and although I was hesitant, I knew he had chosen you both for a reason. You proved your worth way before Bilbo.”

(Y/N) smiled, memories of poor Bilbo trying to keep up with the rest of the company who were used to this lifestyle.

Thorin continued.“They don’t mean anything by it, their actions I mean, you understand that. But this quest is weighing down on us, and we need to stick together in order to survive it.”

“I am able to protect them too though.”

“I’m sure that if you turned back now, you would receive many apologies.”

She shook her head.“No, I don’t want to go back yet. It’s nice out here.”

“Then if you don’t mind, may I stay with you?”

(Y/N) and Thorin had each thought the other would want silence after that. They were wrong. Somehow, they lulled into another conversation, (Y/N) wondering what life was like when Thorin was living as a prince, and how he stayed motivated to look after his people. He too had questions, not about her past, but her future. (Y/N) was never one for thinking that far ahead, it was her way of life, she was used to moving around. After Thorin asked, she was trying to come up with an answer. She was never opposed to the idea of having one place to stay, sometimes that’s what she dreamt about, perhaps this quest would lead her to the right place. Thorin was pleased with that answer, immediately having images of her beside him, wondering how she would feel about wearing a gown.

The next morning, all tension had disappeared. Thorin had unfortunately ended their time together, knowing that the company would be waiting for her return. He was right about them apologising, and (Y/N) did the same, knowing she hadn’t gone around it the right way. They continued on their journey, with their spirits high and wide smiles on everyone’s faces.

With everyone chatting away, the day quickly passed by, now becoming late afternoon. It seemed that it was going to be another easy day, one of the few left before they started to cross over into dangerous territory. They wouldn’t admit it, but their guards were down, they weren’t as alert, otherwise they would have noticed the people watching them as they stopped by a large stream to collect more water and rest.

“Sh! Someone’s close.” Thorin hushed everyone, hand on the hilt of his sword, everyone copying with their own weapons.

“Thorin Oakenshield, I presume?” another voice called out as five humans emerged from the depths of the wood.

Now everyone was prepared for a fight, weapons drawn at the ready.

“Oh good, we are in the right place boys.”

Thorin stepped forward, but stopped as (Y/N)’s hand shot out. She shook her head at him, cautiously walking forward herself.

“What do you want from us?” she confidently said.

“They’ve got a girl dwarf with them!” another idiot said.

The main man laughed with them.“No, she’s not a dwarf. I’ve seen their women, and believe me, they are ugly looking things. It’s actually hard to tell them apart from the men.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at their obnoxious cackling.“There’s more of us than you. Leave now, there doesn’t need to be a fight.”

“What’s a human doing joining a travelling around with a band of grumpy dwarves, a wizard and...is that a hobbit?”

“That’s none of your business. Leave.”

“There’s a hefty price for the king of dwarves. I would like to gain it.”

“You won’t be gaining anything less than a bruised eye if you keep talking.”

“I’ve had enough of this talk,” he reached behind him, pulling two axes out from behind his back,“I will take him with or without blood.”

“You heard the lass,” Bofur shouted,“you’re outnumbered!”

“Oh, are we?”

Six more men emerged from the shadows, all possessing multiple weapons that were at least twice the size of their own. Panicked heads whipped around to figure out their plan. The company still had four more on the humans, but their weapons and fighting skills could hugely effect how this ended. Fighting stances at the ready, the groups waited for someone to attack first.

Impatient with standing around, (Y/N) lunged forward at the closest human, screaming out as she raised her sword at him. The others followed suit, disturbing the peaceful surroundings. (Y/N) had been underestimated by the humans, the thought she would be easy to hold off; however, she was quick to prove them wrong, able to throw out every attack move possible as they struggled to defend themselves.

Thorin had to keep himself focused, but caught glimpses of (Y/N) fighting. She was somehow majestic, as if she were dancing (though with a sword and the music was the cries of pain from whom she attacked). They were doing just fine, they had the advantage of more numbers and a wizard on their side. However, he got too arrogant as he chopped down another human, slicing the back of their knees before stabbing them through the back; and it seemed he wasn't the only one.

(Y/N) cried out as her arm was sliced, instantly clutching onto it as blood began to trickle down to her hand. Although she had only dropped her guard for a second, she was already being attacked again. It wasn't as if she had never been in this situation, but this man was strong.

"(Y/N)!" Thorin yelled.

He barged through anyone that got in his way. Balin's eyes widened at the sight, it was as if they were in the war again, he hadn't seen that fury behind Thorin's eyes for a long time. And he wasn't rushing to save her because she was a friend, there was a deeper meaning behind his actions.

As the human pushed (Y/N) to the ground, she quickly held up her sword, blocking his attack. He was about to repeat himself and jump onto her so she couldn't escape, but was tackled off of her. She gasped, flinching when Thorin swiftly killed the man without him even putting up a fight. Looking over his shoulder, he saw her shocked expression, thinking nothing of it.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he scrambled towards her.

(Y/N) found it hard to form any words."Y-yes, the just cut my arm."

Thorin gently held it, inspecting the wound amongst the chaos around them."It's deep, we'll have to treat it soon."

"Um, Thorin-"

"We need to get you out of harms way."

"Thorin! The others need our help!"

Thorin blinked before realising he had stopped fighting. Looking back at his company before helping (Y/N) to her feet. They charged beside each other, somehow thinking the same thing as they rushed to Nori's aid. The humans that were still alive saw the pair, and were terrified. Those that had an easy getaway took it, sprinting away as the company cheered. Everyone looked around them, realising that the fighting had suddenly stopped.

"Lass, your arm." Bofur pointed at her.

"Don't worry, that's the only cut they got on me." (Y/N) smiled.

"We must keep moving, there's people after Thorin, and there could be more nearby." Gandalf called out, already heading towards his horse.

"Prepare to leave. And someone tend to (Y/N)'s arm." Thorin ordered.

Her arm throbbed as they continued riding. It wasn't the worst injury she had, nor was it life threatening. But the thing really bothering her was her rapid, beating heart.

It hadn't stopped feeling like this since Thorin came to her rescue. It was that same feeling she had when they had spoke the night before. Why had he run to her like that? She wasn't in that much trouble, and he definitely wasn't the closest person to her. And the way he had called out her name, the desperation, the urgency, she had never heard anything like it. It was plaguing her mind, and although she wanted answers as to why he did that, she was too scared to ask. Perhaps she was thinking too much into it, maybe she had hit her head on the ground and had imagined that look on his face; the look she imagined damsels in distress wished to see when their prince came to save them.

It was another night spent resting, meaning another day was gone from the journey. They were becoming the same now; find a safe looking area, set up whilst others patrol, light the fire, cook the food and decide who's turn it is to stay awake whilst the others reted before switching throughout the night. It was decided that (Y/N) would stay up first, and as soon as that was said, Thorin volunteered himself. He made up the excuse that he was the reason they had been attacked, meaning the others should rest up. No one objected.

Balin grabbed Thorin's arm as he followed after (Y/N)."I hope you're not going for any other purpose than to patrol the area."

"We spoke of this." Thorin sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, we did. Remember what we said."

Thorin went after (Y/N), wishing that Balin hadn't reminded him of his fear. It was true, she wouldn't live forever, and there was nothing that could be done to change it, not that he knew of anyway. Perhaps Gandalf knew something that could make her live as long as him, he would ask, change the story so it wasn't obvious who it was about.

The pair were mostly silent as they patrolled the area, making a full circle of the camp before the sat on a fallen tree trunk.

"(Y/N)-"

"Thorin-"

They spoke at the same time, quietly laughing at each other.

"Please, you first my lady." Thorin insisted.

"My lady? You've never called me that before."

"Have I not? My apologies."

"There is not need to apologise. I am not a lady, not in the sense that you speak of anyway."

"It is a force of habit."

"You have been around many ladies then, I presume?"

He chuckled."No, I've been on the battlefield more than I have spoken to a woman."

"You're speaking to me."

"That I am."

"Thorin, I wanted to ask you why you rescued me like that today."

"Like what?"

"I don't know how to explain it. There was something about how you ran towards me. It was as if I was going to be struck dead there and then, or as if I were a close family member that you loved. Although I am truly thankful, I just...you frightened the man attacking me with just a look in your eyes. "

He couldn't bear to look at her, worried that he would be distracted by her dazzling eyes."I have never felt panic like that since...since I saw my grandfather be killed. This is to do with what I wanted to speak to you about."

(Y/N)'s heart was racing again.

"I have been warned not to fall for you. It is clear that my heart will be broken if I were to ever love you. But it's too late."

"Thorin, what are you saying?"

He glanced up at her, relieved to see her smiling slightly.

"I am saying that...I have never been interested in finding that person everyone longs to find. My life has been full of misery. All I have known is battle, death, and having to look after my people. On this quest, I was supposed to find my home, return my people to their rightful place. I did not intend to find a woman along the way."

"But I'm a human. Why would you fall for me?"

"It has nothing to do with what either of us are. You are like no other woman I have met before."

They were brave enough to face each other, not realising that their faces were getting closer together until their noses brushed. There was no more panic, no more hesitation as they gently kissed each other. It was a sweet, calm kiss. They pulled away, but stayed close, eyes locking before leaning in again. (Y/N) hadn't expected this to be so easy, she was kissing Thorin! His mind was screaming too, ignoring everything Balin had said.

"Thorin, are you sure about this?" (Y/N) whispered.

"Yes." he smiled, and it was the most handsome (Y/N) had ever seen him.

"But, this journey, what if-"

"We'll figure it out."

She couldn't say anything else, he was too happy, and he was happy because of her. Although this was a pleasant surprise, she knew the complications ahead. The biggest one being that she was a human and he was a drawf, he was royalty, she wasn't. The judgement they would face scared her. But as he kissed her again, she seemed to find it hard to point these problems out. It could wait for another time, they had plenty more days on the quest.

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deathlikessodaandpizza · 4 years ago

Text

What should we do with a drunken dwarf?

A/N: Hello! I wanted to take a break and write something fun and lighthearted and this is what came to mind! It takes place in an au where everyone lives and what might change because of that! I hope you all enjoy this one shot!

Rating: Teen

WARNING: mild language use, heavy alcohol use, and fight scenes

Word count: 4,006

Summary: Kili has gone out to drink with friends, but, hours later, and he is still not home. Tauriel is about to go out to get her husband, but comes up with an idea when their daughter, Minasel, offers to help. Now, Minasel is set on a mission to locate her father and bring him home safe and sound.

“Your father has been gone for quite awhile,” was the sentence that started a great mission given to a young half-breed by her mother. The man of the house, Kili, told his family early that day that he would be going to a local pub with some new friends of his, but he shouldn’t be gone long. Hours later and he still was not back, which made his wife, Tauriel, grow anxious. Her husband is unpredictable, especially when alcohol is involved. There is no knowing what trouble he could get himself into. So, her plan was to adventure out, fetch him, and bring him back home, but then their teenage daughter, Minasel, spoke up.

“I can bring him back if you want,” the half-breed offers.

Tauriel pauses in her tracks and turns towards the red head, a thoughtful look on her face. Send Minasel, her only child, out to a human village to fetch her father, where she could possibly face dangerous characters and get hurt? A foolish thing to even consider! Tauriel thought of declining her daughter’s offer, but another thought came to mind. Minasel has proven time and time again how responsible and how capable she is. Every morning, she goes out, feeds their chickens and sheep, then collects the eggs laid by their chickens, even going as far as to crawl through a tight crawl space under their cabin to make sure all eggs are accounted for. During the rest of the day, apart from normal chores, she will assist both of their parents with anything they need, never refusing any of their requests or complaining. Shear the sheep for the wool, help her father repair the cabin, or hunt for supper that night; she will do it. As for her fighting skills, she has gotten better over time. Through hunting, she has had plenty of practice with her bow, and her parents have helped her everyday with one-on-one sparring with both her sword and her fists. Now, she doesn’t miss a shot with her bow, and she is able to disarm both of her parents in a fight. Of course, Tauriel still worries about her daughter going into a village by herself, since their family lives out in the middle of a forest for Minasel’s safety. She has gone into the village before to help sell eggs or wool, or to pick up groceries, but she was always accompanied by her parents. Minasel has never gone into the village by herself. However, Tauriel also knew that it would not by right to forcefully keep her child in one place forever and that she should be able to find her own independence. If there was a perfect time to finally let her daughter explore an area outside of the forest by herself, now would be it.

So, Tauriel set up a quest for Minasel; find Kili and bring him home safely. Tauriel gave Minasel a satchel to carry with a canteen of water and some cookies for the journey there and back. Minasel was also given a knife, which is being held by a belt wrapped around her waist, and a map, just in case she could not remember where to go since it had become so dark outside and her sense of direction could be blurred. Minasel felt ready to leave. She turned towards the door and went to walk out, but then felt her mother’s hand grab the back of her blue dress and pull her back.

“Hold on there,” Tauriel says, pulling Minasel back towards her. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out,” Minasel answers, trying to wiggle out of her mother’s grasp. “Did you already forget that you wanted me to go out and retrieve adad?”

“Oh, I did not forget. I just did not say you could leave yet.”

“Nana,” Minasel grumbles, slouching over. “Knowing adad, he could be dead by now! We can’t waste time!”

“That is a bit of an over exaggeration,” her mother sighs and walks out of the room, rolling her eyes with a calming smile on her face.

“Have you met him!” Minasel shouts to her. “I am not overexaggerating!”

Tauriel walks back into the room, laughing at her daughter and carrying a piece of cloth in her arms. From the maroon color of the cloth, Minasel knew exactly what it was.

“Oh,” she says, a nervous laugh under her breath. “I don’t think I need that. It is already pretty dark out, so I can just hide in the shadows-”

“Nonsense,” Tauriel interrupts, wrapping the cloak around her daughter.

Tauriel drapes the cloak over Minasel’s shoulders, pulling her closer in order to tie the strings. Once the strings were tied into a nice little bow, Tauriel’s hands went to her daughter’s head. She lightly brushed her daughter’s cheek as she moved hair out of her daughter’s face and behind her pointed ear, before lightly holding the hood of the cloak and pulling it over Minasel’s head. With Minasel’s head and ears covered protectively under the hood, Tauriel sighs, a kind smile on her face, “that’s better.”

“My ears can’t breathe,” Minasel mutters, obviously not feeling the same way as Tauriel.

“It’s not that bad, baby.”

“That doesn’t mean I should like it.”

“No, it doesn’t, but, at the moment, that is not what matters. The world is not the safest place at the moment and it can be very unkind to those who are different. I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

Minasel stares at her mother for a bit, blinking only twice, then sighs. “Alright, nana. I understand.”

Minasel turns around to try and leave again, but is immediately pulled back again, but this time into the warm embrace of her mother. Tauriel lays her head on her daughter’s and presses her lips against her cloaked temple.

“I mean it,” she mutters. “Please be safe.”

“I will,” Minasel mutters back.

Tauriel held Minasel there for quite some time until Minasel spoke up. “You can let go now.”

“Oh, yes! Sorry!” Tauriel says, being brought back from her little daydream and letting go of her daughter.

Minasel nods and starts walking towards the door for the final time. Once farther away, Tauriel notices the lack of shoes Minasel was wearing. All that covers her bare feet is a thin sheet of dried dirt and mud from the day's early activity.

“Minasel, you should-“ before Tauriel could bring her daughter back in to put some shoes on, the door slammed shut and Minasel was gone. All Tauriel could do was let her daughter go off on her own, with a smile on her face and a shake of her head.

With the door closed behind her, Minasel steps out onto the grass and looks up at the starry night sky. She was free and couldn’t be happier. She could not wait to go out of the borders of her home, pick up her dad, bring him home, and prove that she is fully capable of going out by herself. She took one more step outside and only to realize there was a problem: he is heavy. Well, at least heavier than her. Even worse than him being heavy, he was probably very drunk. That means he will probably fight back and move around, making it impossible to carry him. Minasel groans and slaps her hand on the forehead.

“Of course this is going to be harder than I thought,” Minasel mutters. “Adad is always difficult.”

Minasel looks around the lot, hoping to find something that could help her. There are the horses in the stable she could use, but the terrain leading to the town hasn’t been the best. There is also the fact that Minasel doubts her father could even stay on a horse. So, she continues to look around the lot, past the chickens and sheep settling down to rest, and the large vegetable garden that her family planted earlier that spring.

While looking at the family’s garden, Minasel starts to remember something from when she was young. She was old enough to walk at the time, but her legs were so short, keeping up with her parents was almost impossible. Kili, wanting to make sure she was by him at all times, decided to pull out the wheelbarrow, used for carting around vegetables and farm supplies, and just use it to transport Minasel around in. He loved this idea so much that he just decided to use the wheelbarrow for everything. No more did Minasel have to walk anywhere, because her father would make sure she didn’t have to. It wasn’t until Tauriel finally put her foot down, addressing her concerns about their daughter not walking, having her ride in the wheelbarrow everywhere she goes, and how that might affect her in the future. Kili was upset at this statement since he loved pushing his baby around in the wheelbarrow, but, ultimately, it was stored away in a shed that was located on the property. The door was also locked and the key was hidden, just in case Kili decided to go against his wife’s wishes and take the wheelbarrow out in secret. Minasel knew where this shed was… and she knew where the key was hidden.

It only took a couple of minutes, but now Minasel’s running through the forest, feet bare, and pushing the old wooden wheelbarrow in front of her. Her cloak flew behind her as she ran and her feet barely touched the ground. It was like she was flying. While running, Minasel occasionally looks down at the map that was spread out to each handle of the wheelbarrow, that way she could be holding both at the same time. While looking at the map, she went over bridges and made sharp turns down barren paths that act as shortcuts.

After some time running, Minasel finally made it to the town her father was at. Her feet were sore and incredibly dirty and her arms ached from holding up the small yet heavy cart, but she knew she couldn’t stop to take a break. She slowly walks around the town, looking upon each building and village folk. With the amount of inns and places to eat and drink, she could tell that this is a town full of merchants, travelers, and workers of any kind. Her father did work in a mine full of men, in order to provide for his family, so Minasel is not surprised that he would be in such a town. As she walks, men stare at her with a tired, yet confused look on their faces, possibly wondering what a mysterious stranger like her is doing in their town with an empty wheelbarrow. Either that or they are trying to look under the hood of her cloak to find out what race she is. Either way, Minasel kept her head and made her way through the town, peering at every pub and inn window.

Minasel glances through every window, until she sees a familiar figure drink a large mug inside of a pub. He was with two human men and stuck out like a sore thumb with not only his height, but with how much he was drinking. Minasel set her wheelbarrow down at the side of the building and looked at the figure through the window, almost pressing her face on the glass. At this point, she could see more features of this short person. He has long dark hair and a beard that is growing in, telling that he was a dwarf. In his hair, there were a few braids with beads braided in them, telling different things about him such as that he is married. He has brown eyes and stern eyebrows, yet he looks like the kindest soul you would ever meet. Even outside she could still hear his laugh, which is loud and contagious. Minasel knew that this was her father.

So, leaving the wheelbarrow outside, Minasel walks inside the pub, hood up and squinting at the sudden blast of light. She ignores the barmaids who try to offer her a seat as she goes straight to the table her father is at. As she moved closer to the table, the louder the laughter became. The table was covered with empty mugs, but it seems like most of those mugs belong to Kili, as they circle around him. The two men at the table laugh louder as Kili lets out a loud belch, which makes Minasel roll her eyes. The men were about the same when it comes to size and look, larger around, tall, rugged features, knitted beards, and dirt covering their faces and clothes, but their hair was different, with one having blonde hair and the other having orange hair plus an eye patch over his right eye. She can’t put her finger on it, but she doesn’t much care for these new friends of her fathers. Kili set down his now empty mug and the men started talking.

“What should we do next?” The blonde man asks.

“I know!” The eye patch man exclaims. “I bet our good old friend is a good dancer.”

“Me?” Kili asks, slurring on his words. “Of course I’m a good dancer!”

“Good enough to dance on the table without falling?” The blonde man asks.

“Of course I am!” Kili answers, triumphantly.

The eye patch man’s friendly laughter fades as his mouth curls into a smirk. “How about the roof?”

Kili scratches his chin. “Never done such a thing, but I can try!”

After hearing this, Minasel immediately walks over to the table and slams her hands down, causing some of the empty cups to topple over. Then three men jump at the sound and stare at Minasel, utterly surprised. She then turns her head to Kili and looks at him.

“You’re coming with me,” she orders, grabbing his hand.

Kili shakes his head and pulls his hand away from her. “I’m sorry, lass. You’re a little too young for me.”

Minasel’s face starts to turn a bright red as she stares down at her father, standing straight and eyes wide. “W-what?”

“You’re a young girl, you have so much life left and shouldn’t go after someone old like I. Not to mention I am happily married. I could never go against my beautiful wife.” Kili’s eyes then went into a dazed state as he sighs and leans on his hand, smiling like a complete idiot. “Ah… Tauriel~”

Minasel tries to talk again, face still somewhat red. “Dad, please-“

“You shouldn’t call me that,” Kili interrupts, snapping out of blissful thoughts about his wife. “The only one who is allowed to call me that, is my baby girl. Speaking of which, I have a cute story about her!”

The two men groan and Minasel covers her face as Kili starts telling stories about his daughter when she was younger. At that moment, Minasel came up with a conclusion; her father really was an idiot! He doesn’t even recognize her, his own daughter! Granted, he is very drunk and his perception probably isn’t the best and the moment, but still, it’s embarrassing. She continues to try and get his attention again, but has no luck as he is too entranced with his storytelling. So, she does the only logical thing possible.

Minasel pulls off the hood of her cloak, revealing her large, pointed ears and big mass of red hair. The patrons in the bar gasp at the big reveal, which was enough to silence Kili and make him finally turn towards her. Once seeing his daughter with her hood down, he smiles, seeing that his baby girl is with him.

“Minasel!” He cheers, standing up and falling into her. “When did you get here?!”

Minasel couldn’t help but laugh as she held her father up, trying to steady him on his feet.

“I’ve come to take you home, adad,” she states, crouching down to become eye level with him, while still holding onto his shoulders.

“Oh! A royal escort! How thoughtful!”

“Where do you think you’re going?!” One of the men at the table, the one with blonde hair, exclaims.

Minasel turns to him, a smug look on her face. “I am taking my father home. He is not in a state to be out at the moment and should have been home hours ago. My mother was worried sick.”

Kili immediately went back into a blissful state, staring at the ceiling with a wishful look in his eyes.

“Mmm… Tauriel~” he sighs.

“Well, he is with us,” the eye patch man assures and tries to shoo Minasel away. “You and your mother don’t need to worry. We will bring him home.”

Minasel glares at the men, sits her father down back at the table, and moves slowly to the men, hands on her hips. “We don’t need to worry, aye? As I recall, I heard you two trying to get my father to dance on the roof, something he does not have a balance for at the moment. To add onto that, by looking at the table, it seems as if he has been doing all the drinking and you two have only had a couple. If I take that information into consideration, I am to suspect you only invited my father out to drink in order to get him drunk enough to do dangerous stunts that could either injure or kill him.” At this point, Minasel was only an inch away from the men, looking up at them as if trying to intimidate them. “Am I correct?”

The two men stare down at her, blinking only a few times. She has read them like a book, and now who knows what she might do. Despite the fact that she is only a kid, they couldn’t risk it. The man with blonde hair brings out a fist and goes to swipe it at her head, but Minasel ducks, causing the punch to miss and go directly into the orange haired man’s stomach. The punch in the stomach causes him to stumble back with a pained grunt.

“Gods…WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!” The man with the eye patch groans.

“I didn’t mean to hit you!” The blonde man snapped back. “This is why you shouldn’t stand so close to me when there’s a fight!”

As the blonde man shouts at his friend, Minasel jumps on one of the pub tables, jumping at the man and kicking him in the face. As she lands back on the ground, the eye patch man comes up behind her, picks her up, and holds her to his chest, holding her arms down and squeezing her. Minasel wiggles and kicks, turning towards Kili to see if he can help, but he is still too busy in his thoughts. At that moment, the blonde man has gotten back up and is now slowly going towards Minasel with a knife.

“Don’t worry, lass,” he hisses, waving his knife around. “This shouldn’t hurt a bit.”

“Quit moving, you little bitch!” The eye patch man grunts, holding onto Minasel tighter.

Minasel wiggles and kicks more, trying to get out of the eye patch man’s grasp, before the blonde man gets to her, but he is too strong. As the knife inches closer and closer, fear starts to set in as Minasel knows that her end is very near. She can’t save herself and no one can save her. She is doomed. All she can do is wait and close her eyes, hoping that it will help lessen the pain… but that pain never comes. A wooden mug suddenly flies across the room and hits the eye patch man in the head, knocking him out cold and freeing Minasel. Seeing the eye patch man on the floor, Minasel turned to see where the mug came from. Surprisingly, there was her father, sitting up and glaring at the unconscious body on the floor.

“You don’t call her that,” Kili grumbled then laid him head onto the table.

With a smile on her face as she nods at her father who seems quite fatigued, Minasel takes out her knife and charges at the blonde man, who was still shocked to see his friend unconscious on the floor. With that distraction, Minasel was able to get the upper hand and cut the guy’s hand, causing him to drop the knife. The man curls onto the ground, holding his hand, as Minasel lays one final blow by breaking a chair over the guy’s head. This was enough to knock out the last man and the fight was over.

Minasel lets out a sigh, looking at the carnage, then goes over to her father, sitting him up in the chair. Kili’s eyes flutter open and he smiles, looking up at his daughter.

“Look at you,” he chuckles, moving his hand up to move hair out of her face. “Little warrior girl.”

Minasel smiles at him and rolls her, standing him up. “Come on, adad, let’s get you home.”

Minasel and Kili walk out of the pub with Kili holding onto his daughter for balance. She leads him to the wheelbarrow and helps him in, making sure he is comfortable. Kili starts shivering, wrapping his arms around himself.

“S-so cold!” He exclaims.

Minasel shakes her head, takes off her cloak and wraps it around her father, making sure it is secured. Kili immediately starts to smile, snuggling under the cloak, which tells Minasel that he is satisfied. Knowing this, she holds the handles of the wheelbarrow, lifts up, and makes her way out of town. She decides to go at a slower pass than she did getting to town, since she now has her father and she doesn’t want to tip the wheelbarrow, because of this extra weight. As she walks through the forested area to go home, her father sings to himself, bobbing his head and dancing underneath the cloak.

“Be careful, adad,” Minasel warns him, trying to steady the wheelbarrow. “Don’t move too much.”

Kili stops moving and singing immediately, but, to replace that, he tips his head back and looks at Minasel as she pushes the wheelbarrow.

Minasel looks down at him, confused. “What?”

“I knew it,” Kili exclaims. “I have the most beautiful daughter in all of Middle Earth!”

“Oh really?” Minasel asks this, going along with her father’s drunken conversation.

“Of course! Very pretty!”

“What makes you say that?”

“Why, look at you! You have mine and your mother’s looks, and your mother is absolutely stunning!”

“That makes sense.”

“Not to mention you fight very well. You are perfect! Perfect and beautiful! Even though you are upside down!”

Minasel just smiles at this statement, but Kili continues to stare at her.

“I am very proud of you,” he says.

“Thank you, adad,” Minasel answers.

“I mean it,” Kili states, becoming a bit more serious. “I am VERY proud of you.”

“I know you do, adad.”

“I remember the day you were born. I was so scared, because you were just this tiny pebble. A tiny pebble in a large world, and I didn’t want anything to happen to my baby girl, my starlight. But look at you now! All grown up! I’m so proud of you!”

“Thank you, adad,” Minasel says and leans over, quickly pecking the top of Kili’s head.

Kili grins at this gesture, looking absolutely silly. He does a little happy dance before looking back at Minasel.

“You know why I call you starlight?” He asks.

“I believe I do,” Minasel answers, still expecting her father to tell her anyway.

“The love your mother and I have is made out of pure starlight, and, since you came from our love, that means you are made out of starlight. Do you want to hear the story of how your mother and I met?”

“Sure adad.”

“It started long ago, when I went with 12 other dwarves, a wizard, and a hobbit to take back Erebor…”

#the hobbit #kiliel #kiliel child #kili x tauriel #kili #tauriel #hobbit oc #minasel #writing #my writing

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2manyfandoms2count · 4 years ago

Text

You can count on me (I will be there for you)

Alya joins the identity dance, and the chapters flirt with the 2k mark again (it’s fine).

Hope you enjoy!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3

---

Chapter 4

Chat Noir detransforms as he lands into Marinette’s room, and goes straight for her sewing box. He knows the code for it; Ladybug had made sure he did after she’d started to find the blackmail letters, in case anything happened to her.

Not that they use it much, these days, mind you.

The Miraculous box unfolds before him, and he swiftly picks up the Fox and the Horse Miraculouses. He’s about to close it when his eyes land on the Turtle bracelet, and he pauses. Even though it would probably be better to have as few people involved as possible, he has to say it might be a good idea to have some backup, just in case.

He mentally scans the guest list. Alix already has her Miraculous with her, and he knows she’ll use it if needed. Luka’s Second Chance could come in useful, but he’s performing with Kitty Section. It would be a little tricky to camouflage his costume on stage, especially with Alya’s Mirage otherwise occupied. Chloé would surely be ecstatic at the idea of seeing Pollen again, but Adrien isn’t sure that she would be very discreet about it. Same for Kim and Xuppu.

This leaves Nino and Kagami, his best people. Calm, collected, trustworthy. He shoves their Miraculouses in his pocket, closes the box and dashes out of the door. He doesn’t know exactly what their role could be, but he knows that having the Miraculouses on him can only buy some time later.

He slows down as he walks into the reception room, nodding to a few acquaintances his father had insisted should be there, and grabs a canapé from a waiter’s tray as his eyes search the room for his wife’s best friend. He spots her in the middle of a conversation with Marinette, next to the head table, and makes a beeline for them.

“Hello, beautiful ladies.” He clears his throat as he approaches.

“And hello to you, Hot Stuff.” Alya winks and elbows Marinette in the ribs. The bride blushes a deep shade of crimson at the reminder of the time she’d stolen Adrien’s phone, and starts to regret asking Alya to be her Maid of Honour. I’m going to die of embarrassment before the end of the toasts, aren’t I? Her head shake says.

“Marinette, would you mind if I borrowed Alya for a minute?”

“Please, do.” She all but pushes her friend towards her husband, who smiles and starts leading her towards the edge of the room.

“Actually, Adrien?” Marinette calls out before they’re too far away. He turns around and sees her jog up to him.

“Erm… Have you seen Chat Noir yet?” She whispers, looking around them carefully to make sure nobody’s listening. Alya’s eyebrows shoot up and Marinette gestures that she’ll explain later.

“Yes!” Adrien nods. “You can count on me, after the toasts.”

“Okay, good.” Marinette lets out a relieved sigh. “Just wanted to check. I’ll leave you two to it.”

“See you later, love.” He leans in and kisses her on the cheek, ‘for appearances’.

“Y-yeah, sounds good.” She blushes again, her hand flying to her cheek as she watches him and Alya leave. Kwami, his acting is smooth.

“Aw, look at my girl, she’s just as flustered as when we were in collège!” Alya coos, glancing back at Marinette once they’re out of earshot. She waves at her, and Marinette waves back nervously before starting to talk with a guest. “What’s this about Chat Noir though?” She turns towards Adrien and looks him in the eye.

“Actually, he’s what I want to talk to you about.” He shuffles awkwardly on his feet, trying to find the right words. “But first, I need you to promise this conversation will stay between us. No telling Marinette, or anyone.”

“Not even Nino?” Alya clutches her heart. She can keep Miraculous secrets from the public, but she feels bad keeping things from her fiancé.

“Nino will know part of it soon enough, I promise. The rest is something I’ll only tell him once I’ve told Marinette.”

She pouts pensively, weighing satisfying her curiosity against lies of omission.

“I guess that’s alright.” She finally shrugs, and her eyes widen hungrily at the smell of a scoop. “So, what’s wrong with Chat Noir? And what does it have to do with Marinette?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it a problem, per se, in normal circumstances, but today…”

“Spill it, Agreste.”

“Okay.” Adrien takes a deep breath. “You know how Ladybug is dating Chat Noir?”

“Duh, I was the one who uncovered that story.” She says with a smug smile. Adrien rolls his eyes, an amused smile playing on his lips. It had occurred to him later that Ladybug had made sure it was Alya who found out first, as if to soften the blow of keeping her identity from her later.

“Well, it turns out that…” Adrien looks around them quickly, just to make sure there are no ears lying around, and his voice drops to a whisper. “Marinette is Ladybug.”

“What? ” Alya’s shriek is muffled by Adrien’s hand.

“Shh, this is confidential info, we don’t want people to come poking around.”

Alya blinks, then closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She takes her time to formulate a coherent sentence, although Adrien can tell from her slight nervous twitching that her thoughts must be all over the place.

When it looks like she's gotten over the news enough that she can control the volume of her voice, he moves his hand away from her mouth.

“So, Marinette is… you-know-who. Okay. This is fine. I can handle it. I just… I was obsessed with her! How did I not notice she was literally right there, next to me, the whole time!!” She facepalms.

“Tell me about it.” Adrien smiles. He'd had the same mini meltdown after he and Ladybug had parted ways on the day she'd called off her transformation in front of him. He’d sat in front of Marinette for years , and never suspected a thing. At least, he thought so. There was something about calling her their everyday Ladybug that had come back to mind when he’d dug deeper in his memories… But he would be lying if he said it had been intentional.

“But… If she’s who you say she is… She’s been seen kissing Chat Noir very recently, while you guys were dating. So, no offense, but… why would she be marrying you? Shouldn’t she be marrying Chat Noir? Unless…” She gasps and points at him. “ You’re Chat Noir!”

Adrien smiles at his friend's excellent deduction skills. “Well, see, this is where it gets complicated. You are correct in saying that I am Chat, but , Marinette doesn’t know that.”

“What? But why?” Alya frowns in confusion.

“The good old ‘no reveal’ rule.” He shrugs. “Long story short, Ladybug is being blackmailed. She revealed her identity to me because she figured it would be better this way. I -Chat Noir- offered to act as her bodyguard until we got to the bottom of it all, but she refused because she doesn’t want to know who I am, in case everything goes wrong. She wasn't sure where to get protection from, though, so I offered the Adrien Agreste option, since I have a bodyguard. Match made in heaven, really.”

“Dayum.” Alya looks at him blankly, taking the time to process his explanation. “So, to sum up: you guys are involved in a fake, fake-wedding situation, where Marinette thinks she married her ex-crush for benefits, instead of the love of her life, when you were the same person all along?” She smirks. “Boy, I wish I’d known that before writing my toast, I would have made so many allusions to it… I would have kept it discreet enough that she wouldn’t have understood, of course, but the satisfaction of her connecting the dots later would’ve been amazing.”

“Don’t worry, I took care of that in my own speech.” He winks. He plans on keeping a phone nearby to record it, so he can play it back to her when she knows everything and have her see how genius it was.

“Okay, now. I’m guessing you didn’t just tell me this to get it off your chest.” Alya clears her throat.

“Indeed. Something happened earlier, and Marinette thinks that the people who are blackmailing her are my father and Nathalie.”

“No offense, but that would check out.”

“None taken, I feel the same way.” He pats her shoulder, lips spreading into a tight smile. “Anyway, we’re going to go back to the Mansion to look for evidence after the toasts, and we’ll probably need Rena Rouge to come out of retirement to make sure there are ‘sightings’ of us here while we’re gone. I'm sure Marinette will tell you all about that part of the plan herself, but before that, I need your help because Marinette wants to speak to Chat Noir and Adrien.”

“Oof. She really isn’t making it easy for you to keep your identity a secret, huh.” Alya chuckles.

“Nope.” He smiles as he digs his hands into his pockets. “But it was bound to happen at some point, I’m actually surprised I managed to dodge the situation for so long. You wouldn’t believe the number of times she wanted to have dinner with Chat Noir and Adrien so we could all discuss the plan.”

“Typical Marinette, to overlook the potential awkwardness of having her boyfriend and her fake fiancé together if she’s working on something.” Alya shakes her head.

“Tell me about it." He chuckles, looking at the ground. His wife really is something else, and he loves her for it. "So, are you up for it?”

“Of course!” Alya replies, eyes twinkling as Adrien hands her the necklace. She slips it in her purse with a satisfied smile. “You can count on me.”

“I never doubted that.” Adrien smiles back, and turns back towards the room.

“I just have one question, though.” Alya holds him back before he can start walking away.

“Yes?”

“Why me? I mean… It’s been a while, and… Why not get your cousin to do it? You guys are pretty much carbon copies of each other, physically speaking, wouldn’t it be easier?”

Adrien pauses. “Maybe in theory, but unlike him, I trust you.”

“Ooh, family drama.” She rubs her hands together. “Why did I assume there wouldn’t be any today?”

“Wishful thinking?” He jokes. “Anyway, I'll give you the signal to Mirage a nice little Adrien later. And then if you could bring the necklace back discreetly so that Marinette doesn’t suspect anything, that would be great.”

“Aye, aye, captain.��

Both head back towards the centre of the room, Adrien finding his way to Marinette’s side, and Alya to Nino’s.

Alya grabs a champagne flute and a knife. She nods at Adrien knowingly before she clinks them together, a sly smile spreading to her lips.

The toasts sure are going to be fun.

#things are getting interesting #miraculous ladybug #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #mlb #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #ladynoir #adrienette #adrinette #alya césaire #one-sided reveal #aged-up characters #fake wedding #inspired by fanart #elle writes

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johaerys-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Where Blood Roses Bloom

Fandom: Castlevania Pairing: Alucard/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades

Summary:

After Trevor gets grievously injured by a night creature, he and Sypha return to Dracula's castle to seek Alucard's help. The man they find there, however, is but a shadow of the friend they left behind.

Meanwhile, in far Styria, Hector does his best to survive in the vampires' court, a lamb amidst wolves. Little do the wolves know, the lamb has fangs of its own.

Chapter 5: Draw, is up! Where Alucard is trying hard to mind his own business (really, he’s trying so hard), but he absolutely cannot do that when Trevor invites him to a duel. A friendly one *wink wink*

Read on AO3! Read from the beginning

“Just do me a favour, will you, Alucard?”

The dhampir lets out a slow, exasperated breath. “What would that be, pray tell?”

Trevor turns to glance at Alucard over his shoulder. He is standing at the far end of the large, circular room that serves as his training room. It is filled with weapon stands, heavy with blades of every possible length, width and shape. Many of them Trevor knows of or has used at some point or other— epees, rapiers, bastard swords, greatswords, halberds and spears. Others, he has only seen in books, like the wide, flat blade that curves at the end, that’s hanging from a peg on the wall. Some of them he has never even beheld before, like that spear with the ivory-worked handle, sporting blades at both ends.

Now that is a weapon Trevor would very much like to use on that tall stickler of a man who is regarding him with thinly veiled contempt from across the room.

The pale grey morning light streaming in through the window illuminates Alucard's sharp features, casts dark shadows around his eyes, catches in the highlights in his golden hair. Alucard is gazing at him with a look of infinite boredom and forced patience, but underneath it all Trevor can see a faint twinkle of amusement.

“None of your little floating tricks, if you don't mind," Trevor says as he turns to face him. "They’re a bit unnerving.”

Alucard quirks a brow. “Unnerved so easily, Belmont? I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Do whatever you like with that information, just please. No flying around, or floating above the ground. I’d hate to see you falling from a great height after I kick your arse.”

Alucard clicks his tongue in disgust and rolls his eyes, and Trevor grins. There. That’s the spirit. Anything but that ice cold facade he’s been putting on ever since he and Sypha have stepped foot in that castle. Trevor knows there’s something there, underneath the surface, and he’s determined to pull it out of him.

“Are you quite done boasting, Belmont? Or are you planning on ending me with terrible jokes? I have to say, it’s working. I’m feeling rather faint.” He flicks his finger ever so slightly, and one of the swords that are hanging from a peg on the wall slides from its scabbard, flying directly into Alucard’s hand.

The sword in Trevor’s own hand, the one that Alucard gave him as soon as they walked in, is an unfamiliar weight. He slashes at the air a couple times, the blade hissing. It is a good sword, all things considered: freshly whetted and oiled, expertly balanced. Not as good as his own, of course, which is lying in its scabbard in his room, but good enough. Alucard is an irritating prick, but he does have a good eye for swords. Trevor was a bit surprised at first that Alucard gave him a sword that’s good enough to match his own, but he knows now that he shouldn’t have been. Alucard would never have given Trevor a sword that would have been less than a match for his own. If there’s one man that appreciates a challenge, an opportunity to show off how skilled he is, how smooth and how graceful, to have his flowy hair ripple as he moves, and his coat flutter in his wake, and perhaps even break out a bit of a sweat, just for the hell of it, just to make a fine performance out of it all, then who else other than bloody Alucard himself?

“That’s a nice sword you gave me,” Trevor remarks, pointedly ignoring Alucard’s earlier comment. “Did you polish it yourself? It’s very well done. Is that how you spend your time these days? Polishing swords?”

“I understand your powers of observation are… disappointing at best,” the other man replies acridly as he gets into position, body melting to the side, “but have you seen anyone else in this castle, all the while you’ve been here?”

Yes. The people hanging out on stakes by your front door, Trevor thinks. The question is right at the tip of his tongue, but Trevor holds it back. For all intents and purposes, Alucard behaves as if they don’t even exist. It’s a mystery if Trevor ever saw any; and he does not like mysteries he cannot solve. But Alucard is reticent, more reticent than he remembers. Unpredictable. Trevor still isn't sure whether he's the same person he and Sypha left behind. One wrong move, and they might both find themselves in trouble. It's best, he decides, if he takes things slow. Test him out a bit. Push him, just the right way.

Trevor gives him a small smile. “Not really, no. But one can never know with you vampires.”

Alucard’s eyes flash with indignation, but it’s quickly reined in as he takes a step forward, his sword singing in the air. Trevor brandishes his own weapon, his body melting in a defensive stance. The wound nips just a little under the bandage; he will have to be careful.

He lifts his sword when Alucard lunges for him. Their blades clash, small sparks flying when the metals collide. Alucard is fast— too fast for Trevor to fully engage him in his condition, but this is supposed to be a friendly training session, anyway. He immerses himself into the rhythm of the fight, getting a bit of satisfaction every time he swerves past Alucard’s attacks. He smiles when he sees the tiny flickers of frustration in the dhampir’s eyes, the pinch of concentration in his features. Even in his current state, he’s more than a challenging opponent.

Alucard falls back for a bit, letting him catch his breath. He swings his blade to the side, rolling his wrist to relax it. “You think you know so much about vampires?” he asks idly. There is a bit of an edge to his voice, and it’s lower than usual.

“I know that I’ve killed a good deal of them,” Trevor says. His pulse is thrumming in his throat, and he can feel the pleasant buzz of exertion already. “They’re an irritating lot, to say the least. Don’t you think?”

Alucard isn't looking at him. His features are calm, but Trevor can see the tension climbing up his shoulders underneath his snug-fitting coat, the tendons in his pale neck. “I think,” he says, “that people make a lot of assumptions about vampires. Some of them are true. Some are not.”

“So they’re not… irritating?” Trevor asks with feigned puzzlement, squinting at him. “Judging by you, I’d say they’re really bloody annoying. So much pomp and circumstance, and not much substance underneath.”

“Perhaps that’s just my human side showing,” Alucard says. “Have you ever stopped to consider that?”

Before Trevor has time to respond to that, Alucard lunges at him, aiming for his sides. Trevor evades the blow, stepping away, but only by a hair. He slashes at him, and misses, again and again. Now that he’s fully warmed up, Alucard is quick and agile, and Trevor is still weak from his injury. It’s perfectly clear that Alucard has not been idle while they’ve been away.

“Human?" Trevor pants, grinning. "Please. My horse is more human than you are.”

“Is that the ‘thank you’ I get for helping save your life? How lovely. I could have just left you outside, you know.” The dhampir floats backwards, regarding him with detached amusement and something -almost- sad.

“Hey. I told you: none of that floating business, yeah? One thing. I ask for one tiny, simple thing—” Trevor sighs and threads his fingers through his hair, scratching his head, then lets his hand fall. “Alright. You got me. Perhaps... I should have started with that.”

“With what?”

“With the ‘thank you’.”

Alucard tilts his head to the side. “For…?”

"For saving my life," Trevor groans and rolls his eyes. “Thank you, Alucard. Much obliged. You probably didn’t have to, but you did it anyway. You could have left me to bleed out on your front door, but you did not. How very kind, how noble, how magnanimous of you.” He gives him a sweeping bow, with a hand flourish. “I am entirely in your debt. Or, well, perhaps I would have been, had I not literally saved your sorry hide a few times myself, but who’s talking about that, right? It’s all ‘Alucard this’, and ‘Alucard that’, and ‘oh, look at me, I’m so pretty with my hair flowing all over the place, and so serious and broody, and I like to wear my shirts open to my navel because I’m just so sophisticated, it’s practically oozing out of me, and’—" Trevor stops when he notices Alucard's eyes widening in shock. "Oh, sorry. Did you want to say something?”

Alucard gapes at him for a moment. The quiet laughter he lets out is sudden, a bit startled. He seems more surprised at the sound of it than anything, as he blinks at Trevor. “That was… that was quite a performance. I didn’t know you had it in you, Belmont.”

“Is my gratitude accepted, then? Sypha will probably kill me if it’s not.”

"Did... Sypha ask you to thank me?"

"You know how she is. She wanted to make sure you know we're both grateful."

Alucard’s throat bobs as he swallows. He looks very uncomfortable all of a sudden, out of place. "Oh."

“What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?” Trevor asks. He brings his sword up, the edge of the blade glimmering between his eyes. “Will I have to beat an answer out of you?”

A huffed laugh escapes Alucard's lips. "If you can." His eyes flash red, then he disappears.

Trevor rolls his eyes. "I said: no vampire tricks." He spins on his heel, searching for him in the shadows that stretch around him. A whisper of fabric behind him— and Trevor brings his sword up only a blink of an eye before Alucard’s blade collides with his. He grits his teeth, holding the sword steady. Alucard has gotten closer to him than he would have liked. They are now staring at each other, the blades trembling between them.

“I’m not used to others being grateful for what I do,” Alucard says. His hand that is holding the sword is shaking, but his voice is flat like a cool, still lake. “If it was one of your tactics to get me off my guard, it worked.”

“Tactics? Oh, no,” Trevor grunts, giving him a toothy smile. “It’s the infamous Belmont upbringing you so like to sneer at.”

Alucard lets out a small harrumph, and the breath that brushes Trevor’s cheek smells faintly of almonds, a hint of clove. “I’m not used to being called pretty, either.”

Now it is Trevor’s turn to gape. He blinks at the dhampir, and if it weren’t for his sharp reflexes, he would have lost his balance. “That wasn’t— that— It was just a figure of speech.” He narrows his eyes, just to preserve some of his dignity while warmth is creeping up his cheeks. “Please don’t let it go to your head. You’re insufferable as it is.”

Alucard quirks a brow, and the look he gives him is more piercing than one of Sypha’s ice bolts. “Hm.” The pressure from Trevor’s blade eases away as Alucard steps back, floating out of his reach.

“Jesus,” Trevor grunts, ignoring the light pain in his sides as he straightens, “how many times do I have to say it? No vampire— oh, fuck it.” He lunges forward, slashing at Alucard as quickly as he can, in a flurry of quick strikes. One of them manages to graze Alucard’s shoulder, another tears slightly at the fabric of his shirt. The thrill of those small victories rushes through Trevor, and he grins in triumph as he starts gaining ground. He’s still careful to keep his strikes light, though, to simply graze and not to wound. This is only a friendly bout, after all. “You’re lucky I don’t have my whip with me.”

A soft, throaty laugh echoes in his ears. Alucard’s eyes flash red, then he disappears again.

“Ah, damn you,” Trevor grunts, glancing about him. He will never get used to this.

The brush of air against the side of his face is the only sign betraying Alucard’s presence, before he strikes in earnest. Their swords clash, the din of steel meeting steel filling the room. There is a strange vivacity in Alucard’s gaze, a sort of joy, a hint of a blush staining his cheeks. A part of his mind, the one that isn’t fully absorbed in the exhilaration of their fight, finds that almost… endearing.

The wound tugs at Trevor underneath the bandage, and he can’t help the sharp hiss that escapes him when he rolls out of the way of one of Alucard’s attacks. He tilts forward without meaning to, and presses his palm to his sides.

“Fuck,” Trevor breathes, wincing.

Alucard's blade stops only a few inches away from Trevor before he drops it.

“Are you alright?” he asks, and for a split second, Trevor thinks he sees genuine worry in his gaze, underneath his icy facade.

It startles Trevor, but only for a moment. He takes the opportunity and dashes for him. Their blades clash with a sharp, high-pitched clang that echoes through the large room. Trevor grins when his swift attack presses Alucard back.

“Never let your guard down,” he says with a smirk.

Alucard recovers quickly, much more quickly than Trevor expects. His surprise melts into a frown of determination, brows drawn together in utmost concentration. The bastard parries his blows like he’s meant for it; it’s not long before beads of sweat start arcing down Trevor’s brow. He had forgotten how quick Alucard’s reflexes are. If Trevor weren’t in such bad form, and if he had his whip as well as his sword, their odds would have been far more even, but as it is, he's barely holding his own.

He growls in frustration when, after a daring move that got him close enough to graze the dhampir’s cheek, his sword is knocked out of his hands.

Alucard smiles, a flash of sharp white teeth behind pale rose lips. It’s friendly enough, yet it still manages to look threatening. Trevor can only gaze at him in defiance, nostrils flaring as he pants, when the tip of Alucard’s blade is pressed under his chin.

“What’s wrong, Belmont? No more tricks up your sleeve?”

“There’s a few that come to mind.”

Alucard quirks a brow at him. “I do hope it isn’t another kick in the balls. We both know how well that went last time you tried it.”

Trevor huffs a laugh. “Nope. I tend to learn from my mistakes.” His gaze never leaves Alucard face as he reaches into his coat pocket. As expected, Alucard’s eyes flick towards the motion, pupils widening like a hunting cat’s. With his attention diverted, Trevor ducks to the side, escaping the sharp edges of the blade under his chin, then kicks Alucard’s feet from under him. The dhampir falls back with a surprised huff, and, before he can move or fly away, Trevor pins him to the ground, one hand holding his wrist down, the other pressing the tip of the dagger that was hidden in his sleeve against his heart. “You, however, do not.”

Alucard glares up at him, unblinking. He is completely still in Trevor’s hold, unnaturally so, not even a muscle moving. His hair is spread like a golden halo around his head, his skin gleaming bone white against the dark stone floor beneath him.

“You know I could still teleport and stab you in the back. Yes?” His voice is slow, his tone flat, not an inkling of emotion showing. It sends a slight shiver down Trevor’s spine.

“I suppose so. But you won’t. Because that would be cheating, and you don't do that, right?” Trevor lets the corners of his lips curl in a smug smile as he leans forward, holding the dhampir’s gaze. “I believe that means I am the victor of this match.”

Alucard’s gaze never leaves Trevor’s. From this close, Trevor can see the flecks in Alucard’s eyes, different shades of gold glittering in the light trickling through the high windows, the thin crease between his eyebrows, the tension at the corners of his lips. Alucard is holding his breath, it seems, his chest barely moving under Trevor’s blade.

Something bright, something feral flashes in Alucard’s eyes before he surges up.

Trevor freezes when their lips meet. For a moment —a brief one, a blink of an eye— he’s sure his heart has stopped beating, yet it’s not long before he can feel his pulse in his throat.

If he could move, he would have pinched himself, because this is surely not happening. Alucard’s lips are on his own. Alucard's lips, on his lips. They are slightly cold to the touch, but not by much. Soft. Softer even than Sypha’s, which are often chapped. His skin smells of almonds, of berries, a hint of woodsmoke.

A sudden spike of fear rushes through Trevor when he feels the edge of a shortsword pressing against his sides, through the fabric of his tunic.

“How did you put it before, Belmont?” Alucard whispers, edging back. His eyes are blazing with smug satisfaction underneath his fair eyelashes, but there’s also a hint of surprise there, that Trevor suspects matches his own. “‘Never let your guard down’?”

Trevor swallows thickly. They’re not touching anymore, not like before, but Alucard’s mouth is still frustratingly close to his own. “A hell of a cheap trick, that was,” he mumbles, trying as best he can to keep his composure.

“No cheaper than yours, surely.”

Trevor gapes at him for a long moment, unsure what to say. His pulse is still beating in throat; he wonders if Alucard can hear it. He finally lets the dhampir go with a huff and stands up, and the fact that his legs are a little weak now does nothing to lessen his frustration. “I’m still the winner of this match,” he says petulantly, to which Alucard laughs.

“That was most certainly a draw.” Alucard pushes himself up, sliding his shortsword smoothly into the scabbard hidden in his boot. “But you can keep telling yourself that, if it makes you feel better.”

“You really are one smug, arrogant bastard, you know that?”

“I’ve been called worse."

"Always so dramatic," Trevor scoffs and rolls his eyes. “With your agreeable disposition? That's hard to believe." He sheaths his own dagger without looking at him, then goes to pick up his sword that was knocked to the far side of the room. He busies himself with returning it to the weapon stand where it belongs, in hopes that the warmth that has crept up his cheeks isn’t too noticeable.

Why is he blushing, anyway? Trevor really isn’t in the best shape today, that’s for certain.

Trevor turns to glance at him over his shoulder. Alucard is boredly brushing the dust off his coat sleeves, thoroughly ignoring him, but Trevor finds himself gaping at him like a fish.

The front of Alucard’s shirt was ripped by one of Trevor’s attacks during their swordfight, but it must have ripped even further with his tumble, leaving his chest and stomach exposed. Deep, criss-crossing scars interrupt the expanse of smooth pale skin, red and angry against its alabaster-like whiteness. They’re not quite as deep as the one in the center of his chest, a souvenir from his fight with his father, but they look no less menacing.

Trevor’s stomach sinks at the sight.

“God,” he breathes. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Alucard glances up at him in curiosity. He freezes when he realises what Trevor is staring at. His spine straightens, his features turning as rigid and cold as ice. “Nothing,” he says, buttoning up his coat with lightning quick motions. “Nothing happened to me.”

“That doesn’t look like nothing.” Trevor takes a step closer, reaching out to stop his hand. “Who did this to—”

“I said: it’s nothing.” Alucard steps back as if by instinct, out of his reach. His expression doesn’t betray any of his thoughts, but the way he avoids Trevor’s gaze has his stomach clenching even further.

This doesn’t seem right. Nothing about this seems right.

They both linger in tense silence for several moments. It’s Alucard’s magical sword that interrupts the quiet, when it lifts off the floor and slides into its scabbard on its own.

“I would suggest you get some rest,” Alucard says flatly. “Your injury requires it, if your current fighting skills are anything to go by.” He turns around and leaves without a word.

There are several scathing responses that spring to Trevor’s mind, but they all die at the tip of his tongue as he watches Alucard walk away, spine straight and rigid as a plank.

When Trevor returns to their room, he finds Sypha curled up on the armchair next to the fireplace, a large leather-bound tome open in her lap. She beams at him when she sees him coming in.

“Well? How did it go?” Her smile falls considerably when she notices Trevor’s expression. “Oh, no. That bad?”

Trevor walks over to the bed and sits down slowly. Sypha is watching him with wide, questioning eyes, and he isn’t quite sure what to tell her.

“I invited him to a duel.”

Sypha’s eyebrows climb up her forehead. “Oh.” She lets the book fall closed and sets it on the low table before her. “Odd way to thank someone for their hospitality, but do go on.”

“It was a friendly one. We were just... practicing, I suppose.”

“Alright. Who won?”

“I did. But then he kissed me.”

“He what? ” Sypha’s eyes widen even more, her mouth falling open on a gasp. “Damn it! I knew I should have been the one to go and speak to him today.”

“What?!”

“What?” At his bewildered stare, she lets out a small laugh. “Oh, please don’t tell me you’ve never thought of it before.”

Trevor stares at her in affront. “I have not!”

“That makes one of us, then,” she mutters, and it could be Trevor's imagination, but her cheeks get slightly flushed.

“You’ve thought of kissing Alucard?”

“Once or twice. Alright, perhaps a few more times. I mean, he’s gorgeous, right? That's just a fact.” She leans forward on the armchair, setting her chin on her fist. “So, how was it? Is he a good kisser? Did he make the first move, or did you? And what weapons were you using for the duel? I want to know all about it. If I knew you would have got on this well, I would have come to watch.”

Trevor blinks at her, then drags his palm down his face. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you,” he groans. He’d forgotten how relaxed Speakers are when it comes to romantic relationships. There’s usually no such thing as strict monogamous relationships in Speaker clans, unless a couple wishes it to be so; members of the clan are free to sleep or flirt with others, and no one bats an eye. Trevor himself isn’t particularly possessive or jealous of Sypha in that way, and he thinks that the Speakers might be doing something right there, but there’s something about the fact that she has thought of kissing Alucard that has this very frustrating blush creeping up his cheeks again.

“It wasn’t like that,” he says hastily. “He did it to distract me so he could win… I didn’t expect it.” He shakes his head, “He drew a knife on me, the sneaky bastard.”

“Oh,” Sypha says, a hint of disappointment in her voice. “Well, I still wish I was there to see. Anyway. So, did you talk at all? Did he tell you how he is, how he’s been doing? Did you ask him about the…?” She raises eyebrows in question, tilting her head towards the main entrance.

“No. I didn't get the chance. But…” Trevor frowns as he let his words trail away. A tendril of worry coils in his gut, same as before. “Sypha, there are scars all over him. I don’t know what caused them, but it must have been some sort of magical weapon… or something consecrated. Something that is used specifically against vampires.”

“Consecrated?” Sypha sits up in her chair, her expression darkening. “Like the ones you have?”

“Must be. Anything else, and those marks would have healed long before.” He rubs the stubble on his chin, taking in a slow breath. “If it was those people out front that did it…”

“Then they were trying to kill him,” Sypha whispers. Her lips tighten in a line, and her brows furrow in thought and worry.

Trevor nods, “Perhaps. Perhaps this is what happened. It could be the reason why he’s been so… so much more ‘Alucard’ than usual.” His frown deepens. “It still doesn’t explain why he mounted them on stakes. It could be that we have it all wrong. We shouldn't jump to any conclusions.”

“Then there’s only one thing for us to do.”

She stands up, and Trevor follows her with his eyes.

“Next time we see him,” she says, that same determination Trevor knows so well burning in her gaze, “we’re doing things my way.”

#castlevania #castlevania netflix #alucard #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #trephacard #alucard x trevor x sypha #adrian fahrenheit tepes #alucard/trevor belmont/sypha belnades #where blood roses bloom #johaerys writes

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apenapaperandadoofus · 4 years ago

Note

Jumin x MC fairytale AU? 👀🙏

AHH sure thing! I love this, and sorry for taking long I couldn't come up with anything until 12am lmao

Jumin Fairytale AU:

The queen had gone missing. It had been years, but no one had found any trace of her. Everyone, even the king had given up.

One day, you suddenly found a strange note on your door. It was a letter, with a weird eye shape on it. You were very confused, but curious nonetheless, so you decided to open it.

"If you want to find your queen, come to the address below." It said. Well that was ominous, and very suspicious. Yet...you couldn't help but feel a weird sort of force pulling you towards it, towards the adventure.

You were the only child of an old, retired knight, and you lived in a cabin in the woods. Your father had gotten sick and died a few years ago, and you could barely buy any food with what little money he left you.

You had to find a few jobs, maybe as a knight, just like your father, but they wouldn't accept you. It sucked, and you had to make do with the jobs they gave you.

But it was your dream to become a knight. And what better way to show your skills, than to find the queen herself? You knew that the reward money was something that could really help you, and hey, why not kill two birds with one stone? Become a knight and earn a bunch of money, that didn't sound half bad.

So that exact night you left and made your way towards the address written on the letter. It was definitely a long way, but you were confident that you would make it.

The first few days nothing much happened, you ate tiny pieces of food and water to make it last the whole journey, but it still wasn't enough, and soon enough you had been left with only a tiny bit of water and a small piece of bread.

To make matters worse, the next village was still a few days away in horse.

Welp guess you're gonna die. You had a good run.

You tried to accept your fate to be worm food, but before you could continue imagining your death you suddenly heard a few shouts and the sound of swords clashing.

You decided to go and see what was going on, maybe try to get in on the fight. After all, you felt it was 100 times better to die in an epic sword fight than starving in a creepy forest.

When you made your way to the sound....well you definitely didn't expect to see a really good looking, nicely dressed guy with the sword, standing in front of a....cat. Yes, a cat. From....gangsters? Thieves?

You were about to leave the place, after doing a double take on the handsome man of course, when one of the thieves seemed to notice you and immediately tried to stab you with a dagger.

Rude.

Of course, you immediately beat the guy into a pulp, soon enough beating down the other three, who had wanted to avenge their knocked out friend. The thing was, at one point, you and the handsome guy started fighting the thieves together. You didn't really understand why, but the two of you were actually really fucking good as a team.

Finally the thieves realized that they were going to loose no matter what so they decided to leave you and the handsome man alone. The two of you stood panting, but didn't really say anything else, until the guy turned to look at you.

"I believe I must thank you for helping me. No matter how good I am with a sword, I don't think I would've been able to handle all of them alone."

"Yeah you tell me. Why did you get into a fight with those guys anyway? Were they trying to rob you?"

The guy looked at the ground and then sighed, a bit of colour appearing in his cheek. "I was....protecting someone."

Immediately after he said that, the most adorable cat came out from behind the man and he blushed even harder, making you laugh.

"So you almost died because....you wanted to protect a cat?"

"I don't understand why you think it's funny, it's a completely reasonable response to want to protect an animal, especially a cat if you see a group of people harassing it." He said, with a completely serious expression on his face that only made you smile more.

"Well...I guess I can respect that....still don't understand why you'd want to get killed for it tough...anyway, I'm Y/N. What are you doing on this part of the forest? Is it a normal thing for you rich people to go out at night and protect cats from the dangers of the forest or something?"

The man blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback for a few seconds before shaking his head. "No. I'm here on a quest to...to find an old friend. I just happened to be passing by when I saw those guys threatening the cat. My name is Jumin. Jumin Han, pri-"

"Wait you're THE Jumin Han?? The prince!? What- what the hell are you doing here, WAIT why are you even telling me your name and status like that, for all you know I could, I don't know, kill you and steal your clothes or something!"

"Is it not usual for commoners to present themselves like that?"

You furiously shook your head. "No! How long have you been out here? I'm surprised you haven't been robbed yet."

"I have." He said nonchalantly.

"You....WHAT?!"

"A few days ago I met a few thieves on the way, they didn't steal everything though since I managed to make a deal with them."

"...HOW?"

"I've been learning how to negotiate my whole life, although some people also say that the biggest reason they agree to make deals with me is because of my charisma and good looks."

"How are you even still alive...?"

He shrugged. "If I may change the subject. I want to thank you for saving me and...my friend back there. Is there anyway I could pay you back?"

You raised your eyebrow but started thinking of anything this guy could give you that could be useful. I mean you were starving so maybe some food would be nice?

Jumin nodded after you told him what you wanted, a bit surprised you hadn't asked for more, and made his way to his horse, which was a few feet away from the two of you. You still couldn't help the smile on your face as you saw Jumin take the cat and put her in one of his big bags, only her white fluffy head poking out from it. As you watched Jumin take out what was left of his stuff, you noticed a paper fall out from his front pocket, and you decided to pick it up. You let out a gasp. That paper....it was just like the one you had gotten in your home. It said something different of course, but before you could read it Jumin took it away from your hands and shoved it in his pocket.

"I'd prefer it if you wouldn't read personal things without getting any permission first. I can give you a bit of food to last until you make it to the village up north...do you have any money?"

You shook your head and Jumin took a small knife out of his pockets and proceeded to slash open some pants he had kept in some of his bags. He quickly handed them to you and asked, "is this enough? That could last you to buy food for at least a month. Now that I have paid you back, I believe I must go. Thank you once again for helping me."

He got on his horse, but before he could leave you stepped in front of it with your arms spread. "Wait!!!" You yelled.

The horse almost had a heart attack and Jumin almost fell down, making him glare at you. "Stepping in front of a moving horse is dangerous. What were you thinking? Besides, I've already thanked you for your help, so we're even. I don't understand why you would need to suddenly stop me like that."

"The paper." You said, making Jumin raise an eyebrow.

"What about it?"

"It's....it's got a weird eye logo on it right? And it talked about....about finding someone....the queen?"

Jumin's eyes widened and he got down from his horse, making his way towards you. He narrowed his eyes, his voice and expression cold. "How and why do you know about the contents of this letter? Don't tell me...are you working for them?" He was about to grab his sword and take it out but you gave a little help and quickly tried to get the piece of paper from your pocket, making JUMIN stop dead in his tracks.

"I got one too! It said it was about finding the queen....Lady Rika right? I...I don't exactly know who gave it to me, or why, but one day I found it in my doorstep and well...I didn't really have anything to do."

"Can I....can I see it?" He asked, and you slowly nodded, handing him the paper. Jumin's expression turned to one of surprise and shock, gripping the paper tightly. He looked as if he wanted to cry, but before you could say anything he cleared his throat and regained his composure.

"I see. I am very sorry for almost fighting you, I didn't know if you were related to this group or not. Your letter...it had directions. Mine doesn't. It's clear the person wanted you to meet them there, maybe even see the queen, but why they would send you I don't understand. I don't remember you having any relationship with her."

*Well yeah you could say that. Umm, maybe the letter was meant for my dad, he used to be a knight in the palace but he changed jobs as soon as I was born. He passed away a few years ago. Maybe the weird person wanted him to come instead? They probably didn't realize he was dead."

"I am...very sorry about your loss. But you're right, if your father was a knight, and one that worked with the queen specifically, I could see why they would send him the letter. They probably wanted him to be the one meeting them there."

You nodded and then quickly took the letter back from JUMIN, making him look up at you in surprise.

"My...uh...prince. It's clear that we both have the same objective, that is, finding the queen. I have directions for this specific place...it's obvious they didn't intend for us to suddenly meet. So how about we make a deal?"

He raised his eye brow. "A deal...hmm....go on."

You smiled and clapped your hands together. "Well you see my dear prince, I could do the honor of bringing you to the plac! I could be, in a way, your guide. You'll definitely find some clues about the queen there, or who knows! Maybe that's where they've been keeping her! What do you say?"

Jumin placed a hand on his chin and looked at you quizzically. "And what would you like in return. If you were only aiming for the reward money you could've easily gotten the queen by yourself, no need to get me involved. So what exactly do you want?"

"Excellent question your highness! What I want is to be a knight. An actual knight. And once this mission is done, if you come and promote me or whatever, I could end up being one! Just like my father."

"You want me to make you a knight...that doesn't sound too hard, I do know a few people who could squeeze you in the group...alright deal. You guide me to the queen, ans I give you a position as a knight."

"Awesome!!! Now we just need to get going! And a few rules, before we go. You have to promise me that you'll make me a knight. Promise me." You said. Jimin looked at you, directly in the eye, and then nodded. "I promise that after all of this I will do everything in my power to make you a knight."

"Pinky promise?" You smirked. Bt JUMIN only looked at you puzzled. "Uhm....do you know what a pinky promise is exactly?"

He shook his head and you had to try so hard not to laugh. His confused expression when he saw you offering your pinky was the most adorable thing ever. You but your lip and tried to explain as best as you could, what q pinky promise was and how it worked.

"I see...so if I break it I'll have to chop my finger off?" He asked.

"Oh, uh well we don't have to go to that extreme. But you cannot break the promise!"

"Alright. Since you are talking about rules then I'll add a few more." You nodded. "First of all....you can call me just Jumin. We don't need the formalities and it'd be refreshing to have someone call me my by name for once. Second, you have to swear your life to Elizabeth the third."

....

"Excuse me?" You asked.

"Elizabeth the third."

"Yeah but uh, who is that??"

Jimin quickly turned around and pointed at his bag, and as if on cue, the cat that was in there poked its head out and meowed.

"You...you called your cat Elizabeth...the third?"

"Is there anything wrong with that name? It was the same as my great grandmother's and a personal favorite of mine "

"The name is pretty but...don't you think it's too fancy for a cat?"

Jumin immediately looked as if he was about to take out his sword once again and hit you with it, but he also looked as if he was about to break down and give you a lecture of 4 hours as to why the cat should have a fancy name, and you did NOT have the time to listen to that.

"Oh actually, uhm, J...Jimin?"

"Jumin."

"Uh yes gesundheit. I actually understand completely, Elizabeth is a beautiful name for a...uh...cat. So why don't we get moving? The queen isn't, you know going to appear by us sitting here discussing pet names. Let me just quickly go and get my horse!" And so you slithered away before Jumin could say anything else.

The two of you got everything ready, and you quickly took off to the north, where the queen was supposed to be located.

Then, as you rode through the forest, Jumin looked at you as if he wanted to say something, but then he kept closing his mouth. And then he opened it again and closed it. It kept going until you grew tired of it and asked what was up.

"I just....I feel like we haven't talked about how you don't like Elizabeth's name. Cats are very elegant creatures, who definitely deserve more praise."

Did Jumin spend the next two hours talking about cats? Yes, yes he did.

But the whole time you couldn't help smiling. This was definitely going to be one interestinf trip.

OH boi

Anyway tell if if y'all would like a part 2 pfttt I swear I could write a whole novel on this!

It was actually really fun and I L O V E D writing Jumin, although I've got no idea if I captured him perfectly!

Prompt idea from:

Give me a character name and an AU

#mystic messenger #jumin han #mysme #jihyun mysme #choi bois #jumin au

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maddie-grove · 4 years ago

Text

Little Book Review: When a Rogue Meets His Match

Author: Elizabeth Hoyt.

Publication Date: 2020.

Genre: Historical romance (Georgian).

Premise: Aristocratic Messalina Greycourt wants nothing more than to save up enough money to leave the country with her younger sister so they can escape the clutches of their evil uncle. A wrench gets thrown in her plans, though, when her uncle forces her to marry his henchman, the intense Gideon Hawthorne. Born in poverty, Gideon has amassed wealth and aspires to join the upper class through marriage to Messalina, but mostly he has the hots for her. However, he kind of agreed to kill her brother. Can this marriage be saved? If so, what the hell is in it for Messalina?

Thoughts: A hero who does over-the-top villainous stuff and owns it can be fun. A hero who acts morally but is often a pain in the ass can be interesting and realistic. But a hero who does obvious villain shit while smugly claiming the moral high ground is insufferable, especially when the narrative seems to be on his side. Gideon, for example, demands Messalina's hand in marriage because her uncle owes him a favor. Her uncle agrees, but he'll only hand over Messalina's dowry if Gideon agrees to waste her eldest brother...which Gideon does agree to, without much hesitation. Questionable negotiation skills aside, that's some classic villain-hero nonsense. Yet, for most of the book, Gideon acts like he's holier than Messalina because she's rich and he used to be poor.

This might've worked if Messalina had worse faults than very mild rich-lady cluelessness, or if Gideon had more than a trace of altruism in his ruthless proto-capitalist soul, or if Messalina's comfort and financial security weren't legally dependent on the whims of her male family members. More important, it might've worked if Gideon hadn't forced Messalina to marry him and entered a contract to stab her brother to death. Yes, class privilege is real, but it's a little rich (lol) to shame your wife for briefly and discreetly expressing a desire to replace a cook who can barely make toast when you made her marry you so you could become even more rich and powerful. Like, is money good or is it bad? Make up your mind, Gideon!

It's surprisingly common for heroes who force heroines to marry them to get up on their moral high horse, though. Usually, this self-righteousness is related to the hero's conviction that the marriage furthers an important political goal (like promoting peaceful relations between families/factions) and that the heroine is being selfish by not committing to the arrangement wholeheartedly. This isn't a likable trait in a hero, but it has more dramatic weight, and it makes more sense than "I am going to berate you for being a typical rich lady, even though I specifically married you for your wealth so I could add dowry money to my henchman money and mine-owning money." Also, Gideon is just so stupid. The moment that really set me off was when Messalina wants him to get her some furniture to store her clothes in, and he's like, "Um, most people only have one set of clothes and they just hang them on hooks." Cool! Do they get more clothes if your wife (who does not want to be with you, and whom you married partly for money and social clout) has to stack her dresses on the floor? How did you ever make money when you have chewing gum for brains?

I can't really remember anything else about this book, but included in my edition was a very nice novella, Kelly Bowen's Night of the Scoundrel (2019). It's a Regency romance about a long-lost baron who hires an unconventional female detective to get revenge on the man who ruined his life, and I was taken aback by its emotional impact and delicate handling of trauma. The heroine, Adeline, is truly wonderful.

Hot Goodreads Take: "After three attempts on his life, Gideon starts thinking someone might want him dead," one very funny reviewer remarks. That is also such a thing with mildly to moderately irritating heroes.

#little book review #romance novels #elizabeth hoyt #when the rogue meets his match #kelly bowen #night of the scoundrel #i keep wanting to say when A rogue meets his match #or when the rogue MET his match #a forgettable title for a forgettable book #i get the sense hoyt's more interested in future protagonists

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witharsenicsauce · 4 years ago

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Chosen Stories From The War #44: The Glass Elevator

(Content Warning: This chapter contains brief mentions of abuse)

Camazotz’s cold heart didn’t hold much room in it for anyone. He had already relegated far too much space for Abyzou, and Bhandasura had stolen a chunk of it too, and the remains of it were far too dry and cold to make anything else out of it.

That was why he always laughed--internally--when Abyzou called their little worker drones their “children.” It wasn’t such that he hated their creations (he hated everyone, but that was beside the point), but he just could not look down at any of them, not even his own Gur-Rai, and see anything but a machine. Maybe an employee at best, and employees could be terminated.

This one, though, he had to admit, had stolen a tiny piece of his cold, dead heart. Maybe it was the eyes: the color of snake venom, similar to his. Or maybe it was that charismatic smile: they had made him for one reason, and that was to win over the crowd. But really, it was probably the way the Speaker, even as he bowed low, practically prostrating himself before the Elder, still managed to hold onto a portion of that power in their face. Abyzou would hate it, if she ever noticed. Camazotz saw it as something to respect.

“Glorious Elder Camazotz.” The Speaker looked up at him from his position on the floor, and Camazotz saw a glint of yellow behind those glasses. “You know I would never interrupt unless for the most urgent news.”

“Of course.” Camazotz chuckled. “I assume it’s something I’ll be happy about.”

“An associate has informed me that they have three of the Commander’s Inner Circle right on their doorstep.” The Speaker rose to his feet. “Jane Kelly is among them, as is Shaojie Zhang, and a name I’m sure you have not heard in years, the legendary Taymallat.”

“Annette Durand? That is a rare sighting.” Camazotz chuckled. He almost regretted that Annette had managed to escape so early on. She had been stronger than most humans he’d encountered. Maybe she could have managed where the others failed. “But she is not as important as the others. Jane Kelly is out in the open? She is practically giving herself up.”

“I believe from here, her capture will be swift and simple.” The Speaker continued.

“She is a wily thing, Navisor.” Camazotz knelt down so he was closer to the Speaker’s height, although the cold floor hurt his knees. He reveled in the pain. It meant he was still alive.

“This time is different.” The Speaker insisted. “She is looking for Vahlen.”

Camazotz clenched his fists in laughter. “Humans are so sentimental.”

“Aren’t they? But she’s still convinced, deep down, that to reconcile is possible. And I think with a bit of twisting, that could work in our favor~”

“You sound like you already have a plan.” Camazotz said.

“I do, but I would never do anything without consulting you.” The Speaker bowed low again.

“Navisor, whatever you are planning, you have my permission to execute it.” Camazotz assured him. “Especially if it will cause my beloved wife a headache she’ll suffer for days.”

The Speaker faltered at that, but only briefly. “I shall prepare to fly out at once. And on the topic of consulting you, Vox Camazotz, I do again require your wisdom.”

“Speak freely.” He waved a hand toward the Speaker. “You know there are no secrets here.”

“The humans are beginning to question the absence of the Chosen.” The Speaker raised his head, green eyes peering over black sunglasses. Both mirrored Camazotz’s own reflection back at him. He saw his own, sickly eyes looking back, and he may as well have been staring at someone else entirely.

He sighed. “And I suppose they will start causing problems if we don’t offer them an explanation soon. Or at the very least, distract them.” Camazotz raised his four arms and clasped his fingers together. “There is another gala coming, is there not?”

“Indeed, in no less than a month.” The Speaker said, and he could feel Camazotz’s satisfaction.

“I believe I may have a solution. If Xezbeth and Tiyanak have decided they want to play mad scientist, perhaps I’ll make them earn the title.”

“I apologize, I am not very skilled…” Kon-Mai admitted as her fingers ran through the long, black tresses that fell to Aisha’s waist. Her hair was coarse and thick, but looked healthy beyond measure. Reaching back toward her own curly locks, Kon-Mai acknowledged how she had been leaving them down recently, and unfortunately they’d developed some rather embarrassing tangles as a result.

“An extra pair of hands is appreciated.” Aisha assured her. “It doesn’t have to be a perfect braid, I’ll be putting it under a cap anyway.” Speaking of, she reached over and grabbed a satin underscarf and handed it back to Kon-Mai. “Can you hold that? I’ll put the hair in a bun.”

“Of course.” Kon-Mai took her hands away as she watched Aisha work. The yurt they sat in was hers, and of course since Aisha was the Jinong, it was slightly bigger and more elaborate than the other single houses in Karakorum. The walls were made of stone instead of leather, although the roof was still thatched like the others. On said walls, a few keepsakes hung, some carvings in rock done presumably by a child, a few arrows with feathers on the end, some strings of beads, a bow…and other than that, it was clean, almost pristine.

In the center, the two sat beside a small fire pit that was unlit at the moment, relying on the light flooding in from the open door. The ground was swept as clean as it could be in the steppe, and out of the corner of her eye, Kon-Mai saw a beetle saunter by lazily. She put one hand down on the cool ground and took a deep breath, rooting herself in this place.

She looked up as Aisha reached back for the cap, but instead of handing it to her, Kon-Mai (her hands seemingly moving on their own) raised the cap to Aisha’s head and slid it on for her in one fell swoop, covering her hair almost perfectly. Aisha seemed to startle, and Kon-Mai reeled back at her own forwardness.

“I’m so sorry…” She stammered. “I…I don’t know why I did such a thing.”

“No, it’s okay.” Aisha smoothed out some of the baby hairs around her face and chuckled, tucking them under the cap. “I haven’t had anyone do that for a long time.”

“I’m sorry.” Kon-Mai said again. “…Was that another practice Monkh performed for you?”

“When I was little.” Aisha said quietly. “ …She was so good with hair. Her hair was so different from mine, it was really curly and kind of coily, but she could pull it back in braids, or smooth it down, or…” She paused, laying her hands in her lap. “ …Thank you for helping me with this. It’s nice to not be doing my hair alone…”

“No one else comes over?” Kon-Mai asked, getting to her feet and walking over to the wooden table that held a series of metal pins and brooches, all adorned with Elerium glowing in various colors.

“No…” Aisha shrugged. “I do not mind. The others…they feel more comfortable around each other.”

Kon-Mai herself had been slightly apprehensive to come over when Aisha invited her, even more so when the Jinong had asked for help doing her hair. She had cited Kon-Mai’s own silver locks as inspiration for asking, but Kon-Mai still felt a bit guilty that she had hesitated at all. Aisha was already so isolated, and to be honest...so was Kon-Mai.

“They should not exclude you simply because you are different.” Kon-Mai scoffed, turning over a few of the brooches in her hands, and finally selecting one shaped like a seashell with a faint purple glow.

“I don’t think that’s the entire reason.” Aisha assured her. “It’s a mixture of things…jealousy is probably a root.”

Kon-Mai chuckled. “There might be much to be jealous of, but it is their own shortcomings that hamper them.” She sat behind Aisha, who was wrapping the dark purple hijab round her head. “They should use their envy to become stronger.”

“I think they think I’m the weak one…” Aisha sighed. “And that I didn’t earn my place as Jinong.”

Kon-Mai scoffed. “Monkh would disagree. She loved you too much for you to think that.”

Aisha froze, and Kon-Mai froze with her, and the two sat in silence for a moment.

“It still hurts.” Aisha admitted. “And it’s never felt right without her here, the Khatun hasn’t been the same…”

Kon-Mai quietly pinned the hijab in place with the purple brooch. It sparkled in the sunlight, turning pink then red, then purple once again.

“I need to do some hunting before the sun sets.” Aisha got to her feet and took her bow off of the wall. “Will you join me?”

Kon-Mai raised a brow. “Proper hunting? I’m afraid I am terrible with a bow.”

“I can show you how.” Aisha assured her. “And I’d like the company.”

Kon-Mai mused on this for a moment, watching the look in Aisha’s eyes go from painful reminiscence to anxious desperation. She stood slowly, brushing off her knees, and nodded.

“Thank you.” Aisha sighed in relief. “...You can take Nergui. He’s big enough for you to ride.”

“Nergui?” Kon-Mai faltered. “...But that was Monkh’s horse. You said he does not let anyone get close…”

“He was Monkh’s horse, yes.” Was all Aisha said, her eyes unreadable. “But…”

“But?”

“He’s one of the biggest ones.” Aisha stepped away, avoiding Kon-Mai’s gaze. “If you want, you can take one of the smaller ones, but I don’t think they’ll handle as well.”

Kon-Mai wanted to insist on doing so, but when she went to protest...found she was unable to speak.

Malinalli was waving in the distance as the cart came into view, and Dhar-Mon made himself smile for her. But as the cart drew closer, laden with metals and processed Elerium, she saw his face, and saw the worry lining it.Her own smile dropped.

She embraced him as he came close, squeezing around his waist and burying her face in his chest, and he put his hands on her shoulders and brought her in close, seeking comfort in her embrace.

“What happened?” She asked softly, looking up at him with worried eyes. “Did something go wrong at the mines?”

He sighed, shook his head...and then sighed again. “I do not know. And I feel we cannot discuss it here.”

Malinalli looked around, then grabbed his hand. “Let’s go somewhere private then.” She began to pull him away, stopping only when one of the warriors Dhar-Mon had been traveling with, Uyanga, called to them.

“Hey, Purple Man! You’re strong!” She jabbed her thumb at the cart. “Help us unload.”

“I was going…” Dhar-Mon began to protest, his voice shaking as he tried to find the words. “...'Purple man’?”

Malinalli stepped up and put a hand on his arm. “I’ll help too. Those look heavy and you could use all the help.”

Uyanga raised a skeptical eye, running her gaze up and down Malinalli’s body. “No muscle on you. Only fat.”

“That’s correct.” Malinalli gave her a smirk as she pushed past and grabbed a chunk of Elerium with both hands. “So you don’t want the extra help?”

Uyanga eyed her for a moment more before nodding slowly. “Just keep up.”

Dhar-Mon approached his lover, who was faring okay carrying the smaller chunks, but when she reached for a piece almost as big as her head, he stopped her. “Are you sure-?”

“Please, don’t you underestimate me too.” She said softly. “I can carry these fine, holding down patients is a lot harder.”

“I…y-you’re right, I am so sorry…” He stammered, looking down and blushing purple, his skin growing hotter until Malinalli climbed up on the cart beside him and kissed him on his scaly cheek.

“Now, tell me about the mine.” She whispered in his ear.

“We are exposed here.” He looked back at Uyanga, who was unloading her own batch of Elerium near the town’s center plaza. “If only we could talk like before…”

“The mental link.” Malinalli chuckled. “I miss you on the inside sometimes.”

“I believe I have a substitute for that.” Dhar-Mon couldn’t stop himself blushing as he said that.

Malinalli snorted, almost dropping the Elerium she had picked up. “In my head, you dummy. But maybe later, we’ll see~” She winked.

He chuckled, then his smile fell and his heart sank again. “It was everything the Khatun says it is, a great hole in the earth that slips into darkness, but the walls are lined with glowing Elerium. They process it, and in turn stabilize its radioactive properties. For the most part.”

“So you won’t become fully irradiated from wearing a necklace.” Malinalli nodded. “Smart…”

“Indeed.” He didn’t quite know what else to say on it. “The workers…seem indifferent. I met one that was friendly, but the others did not pay me much mind. Several were…they were scared of me.”

“I’m sure they were just startled, they might not get many visitors…” Malinalli looked over her shoulder, then leaned in again to kiss him, whispering as she did “But that’s not all, is it?”

“There is something amiss within the mine.” He said. “And I do not believe it is benevolent. Screams echo from within.”

Malinalli pulled away from him, worry more apparent in her eyes. “I’d love to see it.” She tried to keep her voice chipper. “You’ll have to insist the others take me with, next time they go.”

“Next time?” Dhar-Mon blinked. “...Oh. Yes. When next we go, I will take you, my darling.”

Malinalli winked. “We should go early. So we aren’t missed too much here.”

“I’m sure it will not take long. We only want to see the outer mine, after all…” Dhar-Mon looked over at Uyanga, who only generally glanced in their direction. It seemed like she hadn’t heard them.

“Maybe with some luck, we can sneak away together~”

It seemed like Hong Kong was always kind of dark. Then again, everything was dark around Jane Kelly.

She crossed her legs, leaning back against the metal bench plunked smack in the middle of a park that was way too pristine. The sky was a soft grey, and the sun hid behind a thin layer of cloud that dimmed its light just enough that the shadows covered her face.

She knew she was taking a risk out here, but she had to get away. Do something. It felt like they were getting nowhere with Dax́iiu: Zhang kept giving him good reasons to defect, and Dax́iiu just kept kicking the can farther down the road. Her comrades had assured her that it would just take time, but Jane wasn’t going to sit around holding her breath.

Time was passing, far too quickly. She’d already lost so many years, she wanted as much time as she could pry from the cosmos’ cold, dead hands. And if Vahlen was here? If Vahlen was somewhere in Hong Kong?

Jane stood up and walked briskly across the street shoving her hands into her pockets. She had to keep moving, always keep moving. Bradford used to call her a hamster, running on its wheel. Maybe that was true. Maybe she should go back to-

Footsteps behind her made her slow, and she took a quick turn down a dirt maintenance path, ducking behind a beat up truck. A couple of Trooper helmets lay on the ground beside their wheels, and the footsteps drew closer to her hiding place and then stopped.

“I know you are there.” A familiar voice called out, stilted and awkward, in broken English. “Come out.”

Jane took a moment to remember where she’d heard that--him--before. When she did, a shiver went up her spine, and she was definitely no closer to revealing herself. She envied Kon-Mai in that moment, being able to go invisible would have been really handy right now.”

“I am not going to hurt you.” He said again. “I know what you seek. I want to help you.”

Jane still hesitated. “ …I’m armed.” She said. “If you try and drag me off to ADVENT, I have absolutely no problem shooting myself.”

“Please don’t.” He said. “Please, I want to help.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” Jane reached for her pocket weapon, ready to make a run for it. “You’re in Dax́iiu’s pocket. And he might be talking, but he sure hasn’t made things easy for us.”

“Please.” He said again. “I don’t know how to say. Please…”

Jane kept silent for a moment longer, then stood up and looked into the black eyes of T8Y47.

“I know what you seek.” He said. “I know...who you seek.”

“How?” Jane drew her gun and pointed it at his shoulder. His eyes were gleaming with what looked like tears, but she could never be sure. “ …How much do you know? How do you know? Who told you?”

“ADVENT knows all.” He said, his hands in the air. “I know that your name is not really Jane. I know that your mother abandoned you. I know where she is.”

Jane felt her hands starting to shake--probably from holding the gun up for so long. “You…you know? You know where she is?”

“Dax́iiu knows too.” He said. “He wants to help you.”

Jane snarled. “That weasel needs to pick a side and stop sitting on fences.” She hissed. “Mother can wait that long, if he keeps wanting to drag his heels.”

“But she can’t.” The hybrid lowered his hands. “That’s why I came to find you.”

The nearly black horse looked up at Kon-Mai with sad, dark eyes as she approached. In her arms, she held a knitted saddle blanket and a pair of reigns, and as she drew close to him, his ears folded against his head.

“Aisha, are you certain?” Kon-Mai turned to the woman who was already seated on her own horse. “He looks forlorn.”

“Do not force him.” Aisha assured her. “But…you’re doing well. He doesn’t seem agitated.”

Kon-Mai looked back to Nergui, whose ears perked up slightly as she did. They locked eyes again, and she set down her tackle and approached him slowly, hands out, just as she was.

“You were her horse.” She said softly, reaching out ever so tentatively. “You were Monkh’s horse”

Nergui let out a soft nicker and shook out his tangled mane, turning away from her.

“I know you must miss her.” She continued. “I am no substitute. I am not Monkh.” With barely a touch, she put her hand on his nose, and gasped as she felt its velvety softness. “But I…I want to…” What did she want?

Nergui knew far better than her, obviously. He responded to her touch by pressing his nose forward into her palm, then stepping forward and bobbing his head slightly, as if telling her to pet him. She stroked his nose while he brayed happily, closing his eyes and turning his face up towards the sun.

“I had a feeling!” Aisha called to her. “Do you need help with the tackle gear?”

“No.” Kon-Mai said, far too quietly. “No, I’ll be fine!” She reached down for the saddle blanket (forgoing the actual saddle, as she was far too tall for any of them) and then picking up the bridle and placing the metal bit in her palm, gently holding it against his lips, waiting for him to bite. And bite he did, taking the bit from her with the kind of ease that could only come from years of trust.

“Do you need a leg up?” Aisha called after her again, crawling closer on her horse.

Kon-Mai gave her a look. “At your height? Do not try it.” She walked around Nergui’s side, heaping her hand on his neck the whole time. “I’ll be alright.” She bent one knee slightly, throwing her arm over the top of his neck, and ran forward, kicking up and over his back and landing, seated, on the saddle blanket, pulling herself upright into a sitting position.

She straightened up, shaking out her hair, and noticed Aisha staring at her. Her expression was…unreadable, but her mouth was set in a thin line.

“What is wrong?” Kon-Mai took hold of the reigns.

“Nothing, just distracted…” Aisha turned her own horse towards the gate. “Have you hunted before?”

“Not like this.” Kon-Mai chuckled, feeling Nergui paw at the ground excitedly. “But I am always ready to learn.”

For once, Betos found herself really wishing Geist was here, if only so she didn’t have to feel like the odd one out.

Drakaina and Volk each sat on an arm of Drakaina’s throne, passing a glass of vodka back and forth between them as they chatted in their native tongue, completely acting as though Betos did not exist. She understood the hesitancy to discuss anything more serious before Senuna arrived, but occasionally they would glance pointedly in her direction and Betos, despite being invited here, felt as though she was intruding.

Part of her wanted to leave, just walk right out and communicate the level of disrespect that she felt. But as soon as she gathered up the strength to turn on her heel, the doors opened and Senuna walked in, flanked by Bradford.

“Sorry about that!” She giggled, flipping her silver hair. “I was sure I had enough time for a quick nap and well, time got away from me.”

“It’s fine, you are here now.” Betos grumbled and turned to Drakaina, who stood so Volk could keep his seat on the arm rest.

“I brought you all here to discuss preparations on an outpost attack.” Drakaina said. “We have discovered ADVENT has a city center near Erdenesant, that is small enough that my army could take it, if we had help.”

“Hold on.” Bradford held up a hand. “You said no city centers.”

“I said settlements.” Drakaina clarified. “This is technically one of those. The center was constructed only a month ago and its defenses are still incomplete until more troops can be allocated.”

“Commander.” He looked to Senuna. “Back me up here.”

“How big is the settlement?” Senuna asked. “City centers aren’t usually small. I’ve been to plenty, trust me.”

"It has a population of about 3,000 people, and as of right now about half as many hybrid soldiers guarding them.” She looked to Betos. “Guards that, perhaps with your help, could be made to quietly walk away.”

“We said we weren’t taking on a city center.” Bradford insisted. “Infiltration is one thing. This is an all out attack.”

“This is our chance to save these people.” Drakaina insisted. “Or would you rather they starve under the tyranny of our invaders?”

“I’d rather we not lose this war by getting our skulls dashed against the sidewalk while the general population cheers.” Bradford crossed his arms. “And answer me this: how do we convince them we’re the good guys? I’m not just talking about the soldiers; the civvies are going to be terrified if we run in there guns blazing to drag them from their homes.”

Drakaina seemed to hesitate a bit, and then Senuna interjected, looking toward Bradford. “I might be able to convince them to come quietly. And I could evacuate the city before the attack happens.”

“I’m not sending you back in there, Sunny.” He hissed. “Not a chance.”

“A leader should fight on the field with the rest of her warriors.” Drakaina insisted. “I have heard tales of your great power, Commander.”

“I won’t have to get close.” Senuna assured him. “Just enough to project my voice.”

Betos chuckled nervously. “You plan to perform a concert?”

“Who knows? Maybe I have some fans in the city~” Senuna winked. “But Drakaina does have a point. If the city center is that small…it’s conceivable that we could crack it. And--I’ll be honest--taking on a city center is risky business, but if we have a chance to help people get out of there...”

Bradford looked away, glowering at Senuna’s answer, while Drakaina smiled. Her nearly white eyes seemed to glitter. “I see why you are the Commander, you know exactly what must be done.” Drakaina looked back at Volk. “Your Reapers are very good at remaining unseen.”

“I’ll have Elena take a couple and scout out any weak points.” Volk stood up and downed the rest of his vodka. “I know it’s a scary concept, John, but it’s about time we start taking the fight to the Elders. Can’t play defense forever.”

“Does Zhang know you’re talking to me?” Jane asked, glancing sideways at T8Y47. The hybrid held the door open for her, gesturing for her to continue. When she hesitated, he entered first.

“Nobody knows.” He answered. “Chilong and Taymallat are...focused. On other things. Not you.”

“I’m focused on the mission, too.” Jane said. “This is a side quest at best.”

“You have been searching for so long.” T8Y47 led her down a hallway similar to the one in the penthouse, but instead of gold, this one was lined with silver and marble and dark green gems. “And you came all this way. I understand why. I understand you want to know.”

Jane scoffed. “Yeah, sure you do.”

“I do.” He insisted. “I had a mother too.”

Jane stopped. “So you’re one of the ones they ‘rewarded’, huh?”

He slowed his pace, probably realizing she was no longer following him.

“Do you remember your family at all?” She asked. “Do you remember your mom?”

He shook his head. “I do not know if she lived or died. I do not know if she would want to see me again. I only have the memory of her smile, a faint outline of light in a dark void..”

Jane swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m not a therapist but…” She said softly. “...You should find her.”

T8Y47 stopped briefly in his tracks at that, looking back at Jane with black eyes.

“I’m serious.” Jane insisted. “Hey, if you’re helping me find my mom, maybe I’ll help you find yours.”

He kept watching her out of the corner of his eye. “...You would do that for a stranger?”

She shrugged. “I repay kindness. I know I don’t seem like I do but…I will.”

T8Y47 stood still for a moment longer…and then put his hand on the glass doorknob. “You will find what you seek in here.”

“Thank you.” Jane stepped in front of him, her heart pounding, her hands shaking. “...What’s your name?”

“I have no name.”

“When I’m done in here, I want you to have thought up a name.” She looked back at T8Y47 and winked. “See you in a bit.”

Jane hadn’t had time to prepare for this at all, this moment was supposed to be magical, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself a child once again, running across marble floors to finally land in her mother’s arms…

The door swung open and she stepped inside, her heart instantly dropping as she saw the spacious, dark, nearly empty interrogation room. Across the wall, rows upon rows of televisions blinked, cameras scanning what looked like a prison. In front of her was a desk, and at the desk sat a slimy looking man, smiling behind his sunglasses.

“Hello Jane.” The Speaker said as the door closed behind her. “...Or should I call you Sinéad? It’s such a pretty name.”

The wind in her hair, whipping past her face, tickling her cheeks, the sound of Nergui’s hooves thundering against the ground hard enough to shake the mountains around her…

Kon-Mai hadn’t felt such joy in years. She threw her head back, looking up to the golden sun glowing through the clouds, just as a purple arrow whizzed past her head. She looked behind her as Aisha cried out “Sorry!”

Tugging the reigns to one side, Kon-Mai moved out of the way just enough for Aisha to ride past and hold out her hand, calling the arrow back to her and scooping up the animal she had killed with it. She checked it briefly, then gave Kon-Mai a thumbs up. “Instant!”

“You are quite talented!” Kon-Mai cried, guiding Nergui over to her companion.

“Speak for yourself.” Aisha chuckled. “I didn’t know you could ride so well.”

“I’ll be honest, neither did I.” Kon-Mai leaned down and patted Nergui’s neck, and he whinnied happily at her touch.

“He’s…not usually this happy.” Aisha added. “After Monkh died…I used to try and take him out, he refused to go each time.”

“You were the one who offered for me to take him.” Kon-Mai raised a brow. “Giving me a troublesome horse on my first ride? Quite irresponsible, Aisha.”

“Well, he’s also one of the biggest ones, I knew he’d be able to hold your weight…” Aisha coughed. “No offense, I mean-”

“I know, don’t worry.” Kon-Mai giggled. “He handles like a dream.”

“I think he just likes you.” Aisha threw her leg over her horse and slid off, taking the reigns in one hand.

“Have you caught all you need for today?” Kon-Mai asked.

“Not yet, but I thought this would be a good place to stretch our legs.” Aisha said as she drew her sword. “You could show me a few tricks.”

Kon-Mai raised a brow. “That is incredibly foolish of you.” She said as she slid off Negui’s back. “My sword never misses a target.”

“Then I’ll have a real challenge.” Aisha shrugged. “That’s perfectly fine.”

“You can’t get such a challenge elsewhere?” Kon-Mai asked as she let Nergui to a green looking patch of land.

“Perhaps I could.” Aisha shrugged. “But why not you? And besides, we’re all the way out here.”

“I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.” Kon-Mai smirked as she unsheathed her sword.

“And I don’t want to be hurt.” Aisha giggled. “So I guess I just have to be good.”

“No!” Jane turned on her heel and slammed her shoulder into the now locked door. “FUCKING BASTARD! YOU TRICKED ME!”

“Sinéad, let’s now make a scene now.” The Speaker stood slowly. “I’m here to help you.”

Jane began searching for screws along the hinges, maybe she could dig them out with her fingernails, but froze as she felt his hand on her shoulder.

“You want to see your mother.” He chuckled. “I’m sorry she couldn’t be here today, she’s a very busy woman after all, running all those experiments, corrupting the Elders’ hard work, I’m sure it’s a taxing job. But she’s so happy you came all this way just to find her.”

“I don’t believe you.” Jane hissed. “You’re a fucking conman! You tricked me! She’s not actually here, is she? She never was!”

“I think you’ll find my offer is sincere.” His grip on her shoulder tightened. “You’re smart, that much I know, and you’re smart enough to know what I will do if you resist me.”

Jane froze, her body going limp as she let the Speaker guide her back to the table. He sat down across from her, gesturing for her to do the same in the chair provided.

“...How did you find out?” Jane murmured. “I’ve never gone by my birth name.”

“It wasn’t hard to piece together.” The Speaker reached across the table to where the pile of files sat, dragging one over. “Your records may not be public per se, but they were not exactly hidden either. You have a paper trail miles long whether you like it or-”

“Did she tell you?” Jane was afraid to know the answer to that. People cracked under pressure all the time, good people, but after all that if her mother had given her away…

“No, which is no surprise.” The Speaker looked over the top of his glasses, his green eyes boring into her. “Moira Vahlen is not a weak-minded human. She never even mentioned she had a daughter before. But the papers speak for themselves, don’t they?”

Jane felt her shoulders relax and droop, just as the Speaker slid her old, yellowed birth certificate across the table.

“Sinéad Vahlen.” He said, his tongue hissing against his lips ever so slightly. “You’re a very long way from home.”

Two swords clanged against each other, and the frosty air was filled with fire.

Kon-Mai’s eyes were alight, and her hair flew out behind her in a wave of snowy locks. Aisha darted to the side but still had to raise her own blade to parry Kon-Mai’s swipe downward. She blocked it, then her leg bent and she rolled away from under the Shrinemaiden’s pin.

“You fight well.” Kon-Mai said with a smile.

“I take a lot of pride in that.” Aisha got to her feet with a smile and twirled her blade in two circles, almost mimicking Kon-Mai’s own movement with her blade. “All those years of training, I would hope I’m good.”

“You…” Kon-Mai shifted backward again, getting back into her stance. “You have a good disposition for combat. Loose, almost casual, but not so easily distracted!” She dipped and darted forward, and Aisha barely had time to bring up her blade in a parry once again. She slid backward briefly, putting one hand down to steady herself, and then ducked away, letting Kon-Mai’s sword embed itself in the ground.

Aisha rolled into a standing position and plunged her blade into the ground, a purple glow emanating from her eyes. “You’re as nimble as they say, Shrinemaiden.” She drew her blade back, carving a curve into the ground, with a cloud of pink dust rising up around it. “Let’s see how you dodge this!”

Kon-Mai could only brace herself against the...wave of psionic energy that crashed over her, sending her to her knees. She squeezed her eyes shut, mind and heart both racing.

How did Aisha know that? That was her move. That was her Harbor Wave.

When she heard footsteps approaching, she looked up and saw Aisha was holding out a hand to her, but Kon-Mai only stared up at her in shock.

“How do you know that move?” She stumbled to her feet.

Aisha pulled back. “Mai…”

“Don’t call me that.” Kon-Mai hissed. “Just answer me. Where did you learn that?”

“I’m sorry.” Aisha reached out, and Kon-Mai took another step away. “Kon-Mai please-”

“Where did you learn that?!” Kon-Mai shrieked. “Nothing makes sense here. The horses, the language, Nergui acts like he knows me, and now this?! What are you hiding from me?! Who are you?!” Not waiting for an answer, Kon-Mai turned on her heel and began to walk away-

“Wait!” Aisha reached out and grabbed hold of Kon-Mai’s hand, finger’s lacing around hers.

A flash of orange light surrounded them as the sun set, and she grabbed hold of the little girl and lifted her in the air. Her braids flew around her like branches of a tree, and as she spun and the two of them laughed, Monkh felt free.

Kon-Mai pulled her hand away, shaking as she stared at it. Aisha, too, stumbled back, looking down at her hand, then up at Kon-Mai.

“...It…” Aisha shook her head, her lip quivering. “It’s you…it’s really you…it’s impossible but it’s you!”

Kon-Mai took a single step backward, her entire body shaking like a leaf. “...How do you know all this?”

“Monkh.” Aisha put her hand to her face, her lips trembling. “I...I learned that move years ago. From Monkh.”

Kon-Mai turned on her heel and ran. She heard Aisha screaming her name, running after her through the treacherous step, but she simply closed her eyes and ran forward into darkness.

Summary: The chapter begins with Camazotz meeting with the Speaker, reflecting on how the Speaker is the only one of his creations he is actually proud of. The Speaker reports that Zhang, Jane and Annette are in Hong Kong, and that he has a plan to capture them, which Camazotz approves. Afterward the Speaker confesses that people are becoming restless not knowing where the Chosen are, and Camazotz decides to enlist the help of Xezbeth and Tiyanak.

In Karakorum, Kon-Mai is helping Aisha style her hair and put it up under her hijab, and the two talk briefly about how Aisha is seen as different from the others, and some believe she did not truly earn her place as Jinong. Aisha offers for Kon-Mai to come hunting with her, and suggests she takes Nergui, the old Jinong’s horse.

Dhar-Mon returns from his trip to the mines, and Malinalli welcomes him home. The two quietly discuss what Dhar-Mon saw there, while helping to unload the Elerium harvested from the mine. Dhar-Mon and Malinalli make plans, in secret, to return to the mine again.

Betos meets with Drakaina and Volk, and feels left out while they wait for Senuna, the two actively talk with each other and ignore her. When Senuna finally joins them, Drakaina confesses she wants to attack a (small) city center. While Bradford is hesitant, Senuna agrees to help

In Hong Kong, Jane takes a break from her current dwellings to walk around the city, and is stopped by the hybrid assistant of Dax́iiu, T8Y47. He tells her he knows what she is seeking, and that he can help her find her mother. T8Y47 leads Jane back to the hotel, where he double crosses her and locks her in a room with the Speaker, who reveals that they discovered her true identity: Sinéad Vahlen, daughter of Moira Vahlen.

Back in Mongolia, Kon-Mai and Aisha have success in hunting, and Aisha comments on how good a rider Kon-Mai is. The two stop briefly to practice swordwork together, and after a brief battle, Aisha uses Kon-Mai’s own Harbor Wave attack, which scares the latter. Demanding to know where she learned that, Aisha reveals she learned it from Monkh, the previous Jinong, and then grabs Kon-Mai’s hand, triggering what seemed to be a flashback. Kon-Mai pulls her hand free and runs away, overwhelmed.

(I know it’s been a while, thank you all so much for sticking with me again. This time, it really is more health problems getting in the way of me writing, but I assure you I’m still very passionate about this story. I thank the SFTD Discord for keeping me grounded in that aspect, and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. It was kind of short, but we got a lot of big reveals in this one.~)

#xcom #xcom 2 #xcom fanfiction #xcom au #chosen stories

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tloujm · 4 years ago

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Part XII: Jackson Manor

Author’s Notes: Here’s my attempt at horror that I promised! Its roughly a week until Halloween, so just in time I guess! MY GOD, DOES TIME FLY. It was just the beginning of October a minute ago, wasn’t it? It’s a long one, just under 9k words, so grab a snack. It features some continuity on the main plot, but really its a stand alone chapter. Because there are multiple other characters mentioned, there is less focus on you and Joel as a couple, but there’s definitely some fluff and angst (grumpy Joel) hidden in there. I know I’m no James Wan or Stephen King, but bear with me. I only did it as a seasonal thing. The next chapter will go back to focusing on you and Joel’s relationship.

Genre: Cheesy Horror

Summary: Maria puts together a specially curated group for the next patrol outing that includes you and Joel. The group of five are sent on a mysterious treasure hunt of sorts. The “treasure” is inside of a creepy, abandoned house that plays tricks on the group, fueling into the already existing tensions.

Ship: Joel x Reader

Joel watched on with tired eyes as you sat with the newcomer at the daycare. You got up early so you could talk to her. So far, the girl remained silent, but her body language was responsive. Joel just stood there, unsure of when a good time to interrupt and steal you away would be. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait too long as you finally caught his gaze. After a moment, you excused yourself and walked over to him standing in the doorway.

“Maria has us scheduled to patrol today.” He said.

“Us? Together? Well, that’s a treat. You usually do the tougher routes. Am I going on one of those with you, or are you doing an easy one with me?”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not quite sure. Maria didn’t say much after she told me to come fetch you.”

“Maybe they think I’m ready for something more challenging.”

“I think so, but what’s strange is that she’s got us goin’ out with a couple other people who I don’t think are.” Joel said, scratching his beard.

“Who’s all going?” You asked.

“Tim, Rhonda and uh, Jesse.” He replied. He was less than enthused with the last name that exited his mouth. While he was civil with Jesse, he still couldn’t help but feel like he had a thing for you, whether you acknowledged it or not.

“Jesse’s a veteran, but Tim?” You made a face. “And Rhonda?” You made a slightly more exaggerated face. “Did Maria say why she chose all of us to go together?”

“Didn’t get the chance to ask. We’re meant to meet her at the stables. That’s where she’s debriefing us.”

*****

“Thank you all for meeting me for this patrol on such short notice. I know this is everyone’s day off.” Maria began. You and the others were seated on bales of hay as she paced in front of the stable doors. “I hand picked each of you to work together and complete the task at hand. I drew up copies of a special map that came into my possession a little while ago.” She handed them out. “Outside the city of Jackson, there is a little village...smaller than that really, that is not located on any published map. I want you guys to check it out and report back on it. Note everything. More specifically, I want this team to sweep through a large house over that way. You’ll know it when you see it. According to the original map, ‘the exterior is dark, almost black, three stories high and overshadowed by a massive pine tree’. I was tipped off that the house was used as a supply cache for the Jackson Frontier Faction, a recently extinct group of survivors. Bring back anything you can. Leave what you can’t and we’ll come back for it. Update the map if need be during your journey. Any questions?”

“How long do you think this mission will take?” Jesse asked.

“I don’t want you to spend too much time out there, but I estimate no more than three days. That’s including the time to get there and back on the horses. If you are not back by then, I will send a search and rescue team.” Maria responded confidently.

“No offense, but why did you pick us? We’ve never worked together as a group before.” Joel spoke up.

“True, I do not have the advantage of seeing your group dynamic, but there is method behind my way of thinking. Each of you have a specific skill set that I believe would simultaneously compliment each other as well as make the group superior to our previous patrols. Joel, you are an excellent shot and an exceptional tracker. Jesse, as well as your combat skills, you have a great sense of direction, even in the most foreign of environments, and you think outside the box. (Y/N), I know you have trained under both Joel and Tommy and I have seen your melee combat in person. I trust that you are ready for a more difficult route such as this. I also appreciate your level headedness. Keeping calm during dangerous situations can be the difference between life and death. Now as for Tim and Rhonda. I know the two of you have never been on patrol before, so I especially thank you for agreeing to this. I wish I could have introduced you to this job with a more novice route. Tim is our medic in training and has been Dr. Carson’s right hand and apprentice for over a year now. He will be there to aid in any medical relief.” She turns her attention to Tim. “If you ever need any assistance, (Y/N) is trained in first aid.” He looks at you for a long moment. You return the gaze, realizing that you’d never formally met him before. “Rhonda, you are great at your job taking inventory at the pantry. Now, you are the group’s official scribe and your job is to take inventory of the things collected. I’ve also seen how good you draw. I would like you to note the environment and work with Jesse in drawing up a new map. Also, I want you to record things of interest through writing and drawing.” Maria gives her a journal. “I would have had you all wait until the first sign of spring, but we are in desperate need of certain supplies. To be honest, this is an experiment, having all of you in a group together, but I still have high expectations. Please, do not disappoint me. We are all counting on you. Have a safe trip.” Maria left to tend to some business at the main gate.

“I think we should go over this map she gave us so we can all be on the same page.” Jesse suggested.

Joel grunted in agreement. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” You began to push the bales to form a circle. The others followed suit and Jesse placed his map in the middle. Before you could take a seat, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hi, I’m Tim.” He began to laugh nervously. “I’m sure you know that because of Maria, but I wanted to introduce myself. I didn’t want my asking you to apply pressure on somebody’s wound be the first time I talk to you.”

“Nice to meet you, Tim. (Y/N).” You shook his hand.

“I’ve heard a lot about you actually.” He responded.

“Oh?” You questioned genuinely.

“Yeah. Everyone knows about that bloater you and Joel ran into. And I was there helping Dr. Carson handle the bodies when the two of you found Sid and Adam. I just want to let you know, I think you’re very brave.”

A grin slowly grew on your face. “Thank you. I’m sure you are too, having to deal with blood and whatever gory things you see in the infirmary.”

He brushed past the compliment. “No more gory than what you guys see on patrol when you run into clickers and bloaters. The way the Cordycep fungus disfigures the body is something from a nightmare.” You nodded in agreement. Joel watched on from his seat as the two of you conversated. Eventually, he cleared his throat, causing you to turn and see that everyone else was seated and ready to go over the map. Tim’s cheeks turned red as he gave you a small smile before sitting.

“Nice of you to join us.” Joel whispered after you sat next to him. You nudged him in the shoulder and focused on Jesse’s words.

After agreeing on a specific route in accordance to the weather conditions, the group picked up their respective horses and headed to the main gate. Maria and Bill from weaponry passed out a plethora of guns and knives. Joel and Jesse led the way out into the open with a couple clicks of their tongues. Everybody's horses galloped behind. It was cold and the snow was fairly high, but light enough to dredge through.

Tim gently kicked his horse in the rear to gallop faster and catch up with you. “So how do you think Maria found out about this place?”

“I don’t know. Must have been one of the merchants who passed through a few weeks ago. If this place was discovered by someone inside Jackson, all of the patrol groups would have known by now. For Maria to be the only one who knew and had a map?”

“Do you think it actually exists?” He asked.

“The house?”

“The whole village.” He confirmed. “Maybe a merchant made up the location with the hopes of convincing someone of a known cache supply, like a treasure map, and had the intentions of charging a high price for it.”

“Maria is smart. She wouldn’t have let anyone get over on her, especially a merchant.” You defended her.

“I’m sure you’re right. What do you think is going to be in there?” Tim asked casually.

You shrugged. “Food. Hopefully not molded or eaten through by rats. Medical supplies. Seeds for the spring. Could be anything.”

“So long as it’s worth it.”

“She wouldn’t have sent us if it wasn’t.” Things fell silent between the two of you. You thought about riding off to the front next to Joel, but figured it was rude to just leave him.

“You and Joel,” He began before clearing his throat. “You guys patrol a lot together?”

“We used to. Not so much anymore. Matter of fact, this is the first time we’ve been assigned to the same group in about a year.”

“Why is that?” Tim questioned.

“It was this whole thing.” You explained it away, not wanting to get into detail. He kept looking at you as if he was waiting for you to expand on the response. “We just got busy doing different things. I help out at the daycare too, you know.”

“Yeah? I know Wendy. She brings the kids by the infirmary from time to time for check ups. I traded for a pack of stickers a while back. I give them out to help put a smile on the kids’ faces when they come in. You know, a lot of them get nervous around doctors. My stickers don’t stand a chance against Joel's wooden toys though.”

“You know about those?”

“Of course. They come in holding the little horses or race cars kind of like a blankie. So...speaking of Joel, you two are together, right?”

“Yes, we are.”

He nodded. “He’s more than lucky, I’d say.” He waited until you turned and held his gaze before bidding you a goodbye. He slowed down his horse to ride alongside Rhonda. After a moment, you rode up next to Joel. You offered him a small smile, to which he returned the same.

“What did he want?” Joel nodded his head back in Tim’s direction.

“He was talking about Maria and this mission. He seems skeptical about the whole thing.”

“I don’t blame him, but I trust Maria. What else did he say?” Joel inquired.

“We were just getting to know each other. Small talk really.” You responded. You seldom saw Joel jealous, but you didn’t want him to get into a funky mood when there was a mysterious task at hand to focus on.

“The winds picking up, you feel that?” Jesse chimed. The two of you nodded.

“Yeah. I hope we find this place soon.” You shouted over the howling winds.

“According to the map, there's still a ways to go. Let’s just hope the weather doesn’t get any worse than this.”

Unfortunately for the group, not only did the winds pick up, but it got cloudier, blocking the sun’s warmth. It was hard to tell whether it was snowing or if the wind was just blowing around what had already fallen. Either way, the visibility got progressively lower by the second. At one point, you had become separated from Joel. The only people you could see were Tim and Rhonda. Joel was alone; nothing but white around him. He shouted your name over and over, but the frigid air entering his lungs began to hurt. His horse started to slow down as it became harder for her to gallop through it. Joel had been separated from the group for so long that he thought he was going crazy when he heard crunching in the snow from behind. He heard his name, but it wasn’t from your voice. Jesse came up from behind him. Despite the cold air whipping his face, he seemed happy to see Joel.

“Where are we?” Joel shouted.

“I don’t know, but we have to find somewhere soon. These horses won’t make it.” Jesse replied.

“Did you see (Y/N)?” Joel asked.

“I don’t know where anybody is.” Jesse pulled his hood back over his head. “The storm’s getting worse. Should we turn back?”

“No!” He shouted over the winds. “We came as a group, we leave as a group.”

“What if they already turned back? They’re probably assuming that we’re going to too.” Jesse pleaded.

“I’m not leaving without (Y/N).” Joel retorted. “We just need to find cover to wait out the storm and go on from there.” Jesse quietly followed his lead. There seemed to be no shelter in sight. If there were, they were masked by the white wall of snow directly in front of them. Joel was contemplating pulling out his map and risking it against the wind to estimate how far they rode from their last known point. Just as he began to pull it out, a big dark building came into view.

“That must be it!” Jesse exclaimed.

“This way!” Joel noticed a large opening on the side of the house. As he galloped closer, he realized it was the opened door of an attached shed. The men ducked their heads as the horses walked them inside.

“Joel!” You exclaimed, voice laced in relief. He immediately looked your way and his heart skipped a beat. He was so worried. You approached his horse and waited for him to dismount before you attacked him with a tight hug. “You’re so cold.” All you wanted to do was strip him down and warm him up.

“Well, it is cold outside.” He responded sarcastically. You lightly slapped him on the arm before moving onto Jesse. You gave him a quick hug and helped tie down both of the horses.

“We’re glad you’re back.” Rhonda announced as she entered the shed. Tim followed close behind her.

“Good. The gang’s all here.” Jesse said.

“We wouldn’t have been if we hadn’t convinced (Y/N) to stay.” Tim began. “She insisted on going back out for you guys when we saw that you weren’t here. We told her that it was too dangerous, but she insisted. Practically had to hold her back.” He chuckled.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t.” Joel said flatly to Tim.

Breaking up the tension, Jesse spoke up. “Did you guys clear the house?”

“Only the first floor. There’s two more floors, not including the basement.” Rhonda responded.

“Alright, Jesse, Rhonda and Tim. Y’all sweep the top floors for Clickers. Me and (Y/N) will board up them windows over there.” Joel points to the wind entering through the broken glass. Jesse nodded and pulled out his gun. The others did the same.

“Y’all know how to use those things?” Jesse questioned them. Joel didn’t see or hear their answer as he was focused on you.

“Are you okay?” You asked him.

“I’m fine, darlin’. What about you?” He asked with a soft tone.

“I’m good now.” You smiled. He tilted your chin up with his still gloved hand and kissed you. He let his forehead rest on yours for a moment before straightening back up.

“Alright, let’s find some wood or somethin’.” Joel’s body was weary, but he didn’t want to rest until the house was secured. You couldn’t find any tools to board the windows up with, so the two of you settled on barricading them with large furniture. It wasn’t until you were done, did you realize how big the house was.

“This isn’t just some house, it’s like a manor.” You commented. “Almost reminds me of that hotel.” The last part you said almost in a whisper.

“This ain’t gonna be like the hotel.” Joel tried to comfort you.

“How do you know?” You furrowed your brows.

“Well, how about this, I’ll make you breakfast in bed the morning after we get back if there are zero bloaters in this house...I’m sorry, manor.”

“Well aren’t you naughty, implying that I’ll stay the night when we get back.” You teased, changing the mood of the conversation.

“I’m implying that you’ll consider moving back in.” He gazed at you, all playfulness left behind.

“If you still agree to make me that breakfast in bed, I will.” You replied coyly.

“It’s settled then.” Joel smirked.

The two lovebirds had just begun to feel each other up when the rest of the group came back downstairs. They would have been caught if it weren’t for Jesse’s heavy footsteps. He gave the all clear but claimed he saw something of interest upstairs and wanted Joel’s opinion. Rhonda, wanting to take note of whatever it was, tagged along with them as they went up to the third floor. With just you and Tim left alone, the two of you agreed to scavenge the second floor.

“Oh wow, look at this!” You walked up to a bookcase in one of the bedrooms. It was tightly stocked with classical literature with matching book spines.

“Lord of the Flies, The Secret Garden, For Whom The Bell Tolls, Tinker Taylor Soldier Spy…” Tim followed your voice into the room and read some of the titles from over your shoulder. “Quite the eclectic collection.”

“Oh look! One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” You pointed out.

“Ah, Nurse Ratched. She creeped me out. Almost didn’t finish it because of her.”

“You read it?” You asked.

“Don’t sound so surprised.” He chuckled. “I’m a well read man. It's funny, I’ve read more after the outbreak than before.”

Turning back to the bookshelf, you crouched down and ran your finger across the spines. “Look how dusty these are. They look like they haven’t been touched in years. That Jackson Frontier Faction, or whatever Maria said they were called, probably never even touched these.” You continued to read the titles before eventually picking up a book that peaked your interest. “Charlotte Bronte.” You breathed out her name as you flipped the cold, leather book in your hands. “Jane Eyre is one of my favorites. I never wanted to like all that mushy, gushy romantic stuff, but in the end, it appealed to me. You know, sometimes I think of Joel as kind of like my Mr. Rochester because he can be so grumpy at times. Don’t tell him I said that, though.” You chuckled as you turned to face Tim, but he was no longer there.

The large bedroom was empty and you began to notice just how eerily still the air was. You calling out to him was the only sound. You waited for an answer to no prevail. Turning back to the bookshelf, you placed Jane Eyre back in its slot. With a light, barely there click, the door behind you closed. Slowly, you turned to face it. A sense of dread washed down your body as you got up and walked to the door. Your eyes cautiously bounced around as you did, looking for anything abnormal. It was wide open when the two of you walked into the room. Your hand reached out for the door knob and, barely touching it, the round thing of metal fell onto the floor and rolled around your feet.

“Hey.” You exclaimed as you banged on the door. “Tim, the doorknob broke off. Let me out.” Your brain allowed you to think that it was all just a prank masterminded by Tim. “You got me, but it’s not funny anymore.” You began to bang louder. You heard the echoes of your fist against the wooden door, but again, he did not respond. “Tim?” You banged harder. “Help!”

“(Y/N), step away from the door.” You heard Joel’s voice on the other side. He gave you a few seconds before kicking the door in. It only took him one try before the door swung in and you were revealed to him. He pulled you into a tight hug. “You alright?” He kissed the top of your head. “How did you get locked in?”

“I’m ok---”

As soon as he heard that you were fine, he began to bombard you with questions. “You sure? Weren’t you with Tim? Where is he?”

“Yeah, Tim was there for a moment. Look, it was probably just a draft that closed the door on me.” You wanted to believe that.

“That still don’t change that he should’ve been with you.” Joel sternly said. Jesse watched and waited in the hallway until Joel took your hand and led you out the room. “Tim!” He called out as he sped down the stairs.

“Hey, we’ve been waiting on you guys.” Tim casually stated.

“Well, guess who’s been waitin’ on you.” Joel retorted. He glanced at you before glaring back at him.

“Wait, I don’t get it.” Tim said, confused.

“(Y/N) was locked in a room upstairs. A room both of you were meant to be in.” Joel’s voice became more aggressive.

“I don’t know how she got locked in. I didn’t do it, I swear, if that’s what you’re saying. I left it open when I walked out.” He shifted his gaze to you. “I thought you were right behind me, (Y/N). I heard Rhonda call out from downstairs and---”

“Yeah that’s true,” Rhonda began as she leaned back on an end table. “I went downstairs to look for my pencil sharpener because my tip broke and I called you guys down to keep me company. I don’t know if it’s just me, but this place kinda creeps me out. I didn’t want to be down here by myself and I know Joel and Jesse were busy upstairs so...”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I swear I thought you heard her too and were following me.”

“She was up there for God knows how long. You didn’t notice when you got downstairs that she wasn’t behind you? Did you even tell her that you were leaving the room?” Joel questioned him.

“Well, I mean no,” Tim began to stammer. “But that was because I thought she heard her too! I didn’t notice that she wasn’t behind me until about a minute after I got downstairs. She was having a good time looking at those books in the room, I figured maybe she ignored Rhonda and kept looking or maybe went upstairs with you guys. Look, she’s an adult! I assumed she made the decision herself not to come down. It’s not like she’s some lost child that I have to look out for!”

“She may not be a child, but we look out for each other beyond them gates. You may not be used to how patrollin’ works, but they put us in groups for a reason. Anythin’ can happen out here!” Joel explained.

“Ok, let's take a breather.” Jesse spoke up to relieve the tension. “(Y/N) is fine and that’s all that matters.” Jesse was not immune from Joel’s heated glares either.

“You didn’t hear me calling for you?” You asked Tim in a low tone.

“No.” He simply said in an apologetic tone. You didn’t know what else to say. It was probably really all just a harmless mistake. You concluded that you didn’t hear Rhonda over your own voice when you were rambling on about Jane Eyre.

“Let’s just make sure we communicate better next time, huh?” Jesse suggested, focusing in on Tim.

A sudden, blood curdling shriek cut through the air. It belonged to Rhonda. She flailed about the living room, shaking tiny black dots off of her hand. It was hard to see as she moved quickly, but the black dots were crawling up her arm. Jesse stepped in and began swatting her with a blanket off of the couch. Her feet hopped up and down from the floor like a choreographed dance. Even after Jesse asked her to stand still to inspect her, she kept moving. Joel stepped in to gently hold her still. She whined in protest, claiming that they were still crawling on her. Tim took the time to thoroughly look over her body for anything that moved. He even raked his fingers through her hair. Jesse walked over to the end table that she was leaning against and investigated.

“There’s a sac of spider eggs directly behind one of the table’s legs. You probably broke them when you leaned against it, releasing all those baby spiders.” Jesse explained calmly.

“They could have crawled anywhere! Why did they have to go for my hand?” Rhonda asked rhetorically.

Still Jesse answered. “Maybe they were crawling toward the scent of their mother.”

“Are you saying they thought I was their mother?”

“I’m saying that the mother must still be around here close by.”

“God! I hate spiders!” Rhonda exclaimed. “I told you this house gives me the creeps. I can’t be the only one who thinks this.”

“Spiders are everywhere, Rhonda. I didn’t see any bites, so you should be alright.” Tim chimed in.

“What were you guys checking out on the third floor?” You asked Jesse and Joel as a way to change the subject.

“It ended up bein’ nothing.” Joel said curtly. He saw your dissatisfaction with his answer and sighed. “It turned out to be a couple of dead rats. They were frozen.”

“We haven’t gone down to the basement yet. I think we should make sure it’s clear before we start really scavenging.” Jesse made notice of the oversight. “It’s really cold in here. Can’t we make a fire first?” Tim spoke up.

“I’ll stay and make one here.” Jesse volunteered. “Tim, since you want one so bad, you can stay back and help me with it.” He turned to Joel. “Y’all can go ahead. Let us know if you run into trouble.” Joel nodded and led you and Rhonda down the basement stairs. The temperature dropped almost immediately after making it to the sub level.

The three of you pulled your respective weapons out and cautiously walked across the cold cement floor. The large basement was divided by metal shelving units. There was no space left on any of them. It seemed like whoever owned the house before the outbreak was a hoarder. The snow blocked out any light from peering through the narrow windows. The only thing guiding the three of you were your flashlights.

“What’s that?” Rhonda spoke up. It fell silent, but everyone heard it. It was a drawn out creaking followed by a deep rumble that sounded as if it moved across the whole basement.”

“It’s just the house settling.” Joel simply said.

“That’s what they all say. Feeling a draft when there’s no wind. Hearing doors slam in the next room. Oh, but it’s just the house settling.” Rhonda responded.

“Well, did you hear a door slam or feel a draft?” Joel inquired, almost wishing he hadn’t.

“No, but now that you mention it, it’s colder down here than upstairs. This is probably one big cold spot.”

“It’s always colder in basements.” You tried to reason.

The creaking sound occurred again. “Look,” Joel flashed his light up toward the ceiling and moved it along the direction of the pipes. “Whatever water is left in the pipes from when they were last used is freezing which means it’s expanding. As the ice grows, it’s pushing against the walls of the metal pipes.”

Rhonda looked up at the frost covering the illuminated pipes. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Come look at this.” You beckoned them over. You had found a table covered in a sheet and after whispering some encouraging words to yourself, you pulled it off.

“What is it?” Joel asked.

“It’s an orrery.” You breathed out. Despite your amazement, he was no closer to knowing what it was. As a matter of fact he was more confused. Rhonda took out her notebook and began to draw it.

“Its a mechanical model of the solar system.” You explained. To Joel, it just looked like different sized spheres positioned in a circle.

“They don’t look like planets to me.” He said.

“This isn’t the most extravagant one I’ve ever seen, but it’s something.” You walked around the table, studying the spheres. “See, right here, this one is the sun,” You pointed. “Which makes this one Earth.”

“Really makes you feel small, don’t it.” Joel chimed.

“I know we won’t be able to take this now, but this would be great for school. The kids would love this. Teach them about how space works.” You said.

Joel studied it a little bit longer before moving on to see what were on the shelves. As soon as Rhonda was done drawing, she did the same. You threw the sheet back over the model before continuing on as well. Most of the items were either junk or rotted with mold. On one of the lower shelves, you found a small hand mirror. The base was ornate in design, but the glass itself was dull and cracked. You held it up to your face, angling it in your hands. Something moved in the corner near the crack. You didn’t pay the occurrence much mind until it happened again. You saw something in your peripheral vision that couldn’t be explained away by the house settling. Turning around, you inspected the area of interest in the dark. Everything was still. Whatever it was that moved, maybe it knew that you were watching it, so it stopped. You stood still, hoping to blend into the darkness as well. Maybe you could catch it moving before your very eyes if you just waited long enough. Your heart thumped in your chest as you began to fiddle with the switch on your flashlight. Quickly, you illuminated the space in front of you only to reveal nothing but boxes stacked up against the wall and another item covered in a sheet. Carefully, you approached the cloaked object and ripped the fabric off. You jumped out of your skin at the sight before you.

A shaky breath escaped your lips as you turned around. “You scared the shit outta me!” You told Joel. He was standing behind you when you pulled the sheet off of a standing mirror. Your light reflecting off the glass masked some of his features and for a moment, you didn’t know exactly who was standing behind you.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, darlin’.” He said. This time it was your turn to glare at him. You knew it wasn’t his fault, but your heart was still beating out your chest. “I just came up to check on you. I saw you wandering around in the dark.”

“I’m fine. I just...I thought I----” You stammered through your explanation before being cut off by a loud thump. It went eerily silent. “Rhonda?”

“Rhonda.” Joel called out as well. There was no response. The two of you searched up and down the makeshift aisles that the shelving units created. You called out for her again.

“She has to still be down here.” You mentioned.

“Think she pulled a Tim?” Joel suggested.

“No, she wouldn’t do that. God, how is this basement so huge?” He led you to a tunnel-like portion of the room. “Rhonda!” Your light shone on her unmoving form on the ground. You and Joel kneeled beside her. Upon closer inspection, you found blood slowly dripping out from the back of her head. The back of her hair was matted in a mixture of gravelly dirt and the dark red liquid. Joel got back up and flashed his light around the narrow space to see what could have happened.

“Looks like she hit her head on this.” Joel commented. You followed the direction of his light and saw a stack of cement blocks against the wall. The top block had fresh blood painted on the side of it.

“Go get Tim. He needs to help her!” You were scared for her. The blood wasn’t coming out at an excessive rate, but there was still a lot more than you wanted to see on the ground underneath her head.

Joel began to leave in a hurry, but stopped in his tracks. “Be careful, (Y/N). This is what she must have slipped on.” He said as he shone his light on a patch of black ice on the ground. He moved the light higher and inspected the pipes directly above his head. A frozen over droplet formed around a tiny crack in the cylindrical piece of metal.

You were scared as you sat alone with her in the basement. Her lips were turning blue and you couldn’t tell if it was because she was dying or because it was really cold down there. You wanted to believe the latter. Either way, she needed to be moved. After what felt like five long minutes, Tim came rushing into the narrow section where you waited. You screamed for him to be careful around the ice. He hopped over the patch and knelt down by Rhonda’s side to assess her head injury. He managed to wake her back up, though she was slipping in and out of consciousness. Tim gently picked her up and walked her upstairs to where the fire was going. Jesse laid a blanket down on the floor in preparation for her.

There, in the middle of the living room floor, Tim treated Rhonda. He diagnosed her as having obtained a severe concussion. He elevated her bandaged head and gave her a pain killer to swallow. He practically swaddled her in the extra blankets to discourage sudden movement.

“I’m going to help her eat so her medicine can digest properly. After that, I’m going to ask her a set of basic questions just to see where her brain and motor functions are. Nothing major; her brain definitely needs some time to heal. Despite falling unconscious, the blunt force trauma doesn’t seem to have caused any swelling or permanent brain damage, but like I said, I still have to evaluate her and see where she’s at.” Tim explained. The four of you were huddled together on the other side of the living room to make sure she was out of ear shot.

“If you’re gonna look after her, I reckon the rest of us should finish scavenging. The faster we do this, the faster we can get back home where she can better rest.” Joel stated.

“Given the storm ends soon.” Jesse spoke up.

While the three went up the stairs, Tim went over to his backpack to review his medical supplies. As he rummaged, a drawn out creak sounded from the kitchen. He glanced in the direction of the room despite not being able to see inside. A few moments of silence was followed by a loud bang. Tim glanced back toward the kitchen again. This time, he moved closer to the fire, giving him a better view into the room. His heartbeat quickened as he peaked around the corner. From his angle, nothing suspicious could be seen. He exchanged a worried glance with Rhonda before looking at the staircase. He wanted to see if anybody upstairs had heard. If not coming down to investigate, he figured they would at least shout out to them and ask if they were ok, but there was nothing.

“I’m going to go see what that was.” Tim said to Rhonda.

“Please don’t.” She replied weakly.

“It’ll be fine, I promise.”

“No, no, no.” She profusely shook her head. Tim read her face, he knew that she was sincerely frightened, but if there was an impending danger, he needed to know where it was. I would only be gone for a moment, he told her in his head. He pulled his gaze from her and turned the corner. The kitchen appeared completely normal. He was confused. The sound was so close; it had to have come from the kitchen. As a precaution, Tim went into the laundry room located right off the kitchen.

“(Y/N)? Come here. Wait with me.” Rhonda spoke up, barely above a whisper. She didn’t hear you come down the stairs, but you were in the living room nonetheless. It was good timing as she was too scared to be by herself. “Please?” You hadn’t so much as looked in Rhonda’s direction. You just walked from one end of the room and down the hallway, disappearing from her view. “(Y/N)?”

Rhonda waited for you to come back down the hall. This time you’d be facing her and surely she’d be able to get your attention. Despite calling out again, you never did. Left to her own devices, Rhonda began to think about what you wore when the group left Jackson. She couldn’t completely remember, but the more she thought on it, the more she realized what you wore just a moment ago was different from what you wore earlier today. She never did get a good look at that woman’s face, but she thought it was you by the color of your hair and the height. She wanted it to be you. A wave of shivers ran down her spine as the realization sat in.

You, Jesse and Joel split up the rooms upstairs to cover more ground, but decided to stay on the same floor to avoid a repeat of what happened earlier. As soon as you were done searching your room, you moved on to the next only to find Jesse. He called you over from the doorway but shushed you as you walked in. You noticed that it was a grand bedroom, similar to the one you were locked in on the second floor. You walked past the four post bed and stood next to him. His ear was to the wall.

“Tell me if it’s coming from here.” Jesse whispered. You heard a faint scratching sound, but it could have been from anything inside the old house. Standing next to him, you mirrored his position and let your ear rest against the cold wall. The scratching sound became more clear as it mingled with a slow, yet distinct clicking sound. The two of you stared at each other. You silently expressed to him that you did in fact hear what he was hearing. You read the question in his eyes, unsure of how to answer: what was behind these walls? This was the last room in the hallway, so there wasn’t much space for anything else. You began to walk backwards with your ear sliding against the wall to follow the sound. Jesse followed your footsteps. When you stopped, there was no more than a half foot distance between you two.

“It’s right here. Right on the other side.” You whispered. Jessed nodded. Subconsciously, you held your breath and stayed like that for a few moments. Suddenly, you jumped at a new sound echoing through the room. It was Joel clearing his throat as he glared between you and Jesse from the doorway.

“What’s this?” Joel asked in a less than impressed tone. His arms were crossed as he walked in further. You hadn’t realized how the proximity in which you stood to Jesse looked from another view point. You knew Joel wasn’t the happiest camper around Jesse, but you also knew that you hadn’t done anything wrong. Quietly, you placed a finger to your lips and pleaded for his silence with your eyes. As he walked closer, you could tell by the curiosity in his face that he heard it too. He made a move to stand in between the two of you, prompting the other man to walk away from the wall. “It’s probably termites or rats. This house is old and falling apart. There’s no tellin’ how many little openings there are.”

“With all due respect, I don’t think it’s rats this time.” Jesse disagreed. “I think we should investigate.”

“What good would that do? There’s nothing beyond these walls! You’ve seen it; there's nothing but the outside. If it ain’t rats, then what is it? We ain’t here to play ghost hunter, alright? We’re meant to be lookin’ for them supplies.” Joel argued. His attention was geared at Jesse, but when there was no rebuttal, he turned to look at you only to find a hint of disappointment in your face.

“Who knows how long we’re gonna be stuck in this house. We may as well while we’re here.” You said. Much to Joel’s dislike, you sided with Jesse. With an exasperated sigh, he agreed under the condition that it wouldn’t take long.

The three of you walked around the room, looking for clues such as holes in the walls for rodents to scurry through. It didn’t take long for you to find a draft coming from behind the armoire. It was as if the large piece of furniture was blocking an opening. The two men moved it out the way to find that it was blocking a crawl space. With the opening exposed, the scratching and clicking became clearer. The three of you were hesitant, knowing that whatever it was making that sound, it was through that small, dark space. You glanced between the two men before volunteering to go in first. You were the smallest, you argued, and could best fit through. Crouching down, you saw that the large hole in the wall was like a tunnel to something deeper in the house but that it also passed the interior of the wall. You let out a deep breath and began to crawl with a knife in your right hand.

With your body only 3/4ths of the way in, you came face to face with the origin of those sounds. You removed your flashlight from your waist and shined it on the clicker. It was so disfigured that you concluded that it had turned many years ago. Remaining completely still, you watched as it slowly clawed at the wall. The scene before you was so abnormal. Never had you seen a clicker move so slow. You eyed the way it was positioned between the walls. It could have found its way out easily if it wanted to. Living for years after the outbreak, you observed how the fungal parasite used its host cleverly to spread its disease. It had probably been there for so long, blocked by the armoire, that its blood lust fell dormant. You continued to watch as its mouth slowly opened to release a few clicking sounds before closing again. You were afraid that as soon as any sudden movements were made, a switch would flip in whatever was left of the clicker’s brain and it would begin attacking you. While silently weighing your choices, Joel and Jesse noticed that you hadn’t moved for minutes and asked if you were ok at the same time. He gave the younger man a glare before refocusing on your well being. Your eyes immediately went back to the clicker to see if it was disturbed by the sudden sound. Normally, all it took was the tiniest sound of a human voice to activate their savage nature. You watched and waited, but nothing different happened. You let out a deep breath and told the guys you were ok. Despite the thing being closer than you would have liked, it was an easy kill. You told them what had happened before carrying on through the crawl space. The tunnel spilled out into a secret room. It was as big as a walk-in pantry closet or a janitor room. Before you stood up, you shouted behind you for them to follow. It was a tight squeeze, but they did it.

The group had already scavenged valuable odds and ends throughout the house, but this was the jackpot. The walls were lined with nonperishable foods and cases of bottled water stacked up as tall as Joel. Jesse broke the lock on a heavy duty trunk to find it full of weapons and ammunition. There was another trunk with other survival tools like batteries, matches and medical supplies raided from a hospital. The three of you donned huge smiles at the amount of supplies that was discovered. With Rhonda injured, you pulled out your own notebook and marked everything that was inside the room while the other two filled their bags up to the brim to take what they could.

Downstairs in the laundry room, Tim found nothing out of the ordinary. It made no sense to him. Was it all a prank; something the rest of the group was doing to initiate him into the patrol job? Or was it all in his head? He knew it wasn’t that; he wasn’t crazy. Just as he turned to walk back into the kitchen, he heard the loud bang again. It came from the same place he investigated just moments ago.

“Rhonda, did you hear…” He shouted out as he walked into the kitchen. He stopped mid sentence when he saw the disarray before him. All the drawers were pulled out and all the cabinet doors were opened. His body froze in fear. The only thing that moved were his eyes as he watched a mouse scurry between the cupboards. For no good reason at all, he was overcome with a feeling to not look behind him as if there was something there waiting to reveal itself in the laundry room.

“Tim!” Joel shouted from the living room. He was still scared, but hearing his voice snapped him out of that debilitating fear. Quickly, he made his way out the kitchen. Without warning Joel pushed him against the living room wall and held his arm against Tim’s throat to keep him in place. “Where the hell were you?” Joel asked aggressively. “We come down here to find Rhonda crying and bleeding through her bandages.” Tim’s eyes, bulged out, danced across the room before landing on the wounded woman. You were holding her in your arms.

“C’mon. Ease up. He gets it.” Jesse gently rested his hand on Joel’s shoulder.

“No, I don’t think he does.” He replied over his shoulder before looking back at Tim. “When you said you were gonna look after her, I figured you meant it. I thought we’d been over this, Tim.” He glared daggers into the medic’s eyes, but he was only met back with fear. Assuming that he was the cause, Joel finally let go. Tim scurried to another corner of the living room to gather himself.

“I saw her...it...whatever that thing was!” Rhonda spoke up raspily. “I called out to her, thinking it was you. I thought you’d left me, but then she came back. Not once did she look at me, but she paced the living room and each time she walked back, she got closer to me. I told her to stay away, but she didn’t listen; she kept coming closer. I tried to crawl away, but I got dizzy and my vision got blurry.” She began to weep again. “So I closed my eyes and counted to ten, like my Nana taught me when I was little. Then I heard you guys come down the stairs. When I opened my eyes, all I saw was you. The real you. She was gone.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Rhonda.” Tim hoarsely apologized. “I...I was gone because there was this sound. A huge bang. You guys didn’t hear that?” Joel only offered a blank glare while you and Jesse shook your heads. “It had come from the kitchen. It was only right there, so I figured it was close enough for me to see what it was. Just in and out.”

“Well, it wasn’t in and out was it?” Joel questioned.

“That’s the thing. When I went into the kitchen, I couldn’t find anything out of place; nothing to have made such a noise.”

“I told you not to go in there.” Rhonda said in a low tone.

“I saw that there was another room right off of the kitchen. I decided to investigate that while I was in there. I meant to be quick.” Tim explained, meeting no one’s eyes in particular. “I...I...I swear to you, my back was to the kitchen, and when I turned back around, the whole thing was a mess.” You continued to hold Rhonda as she shivered while Jesse and Joel rounded the corner into the kitchen. Things were a mess, yes, but in the way a house this dilapidated would be.

“I don’t get it.” Jesse whispered to Joel.

“I know you couldn’t have expected this place to be immaculate.” Joel said to Tim. The medic followed them into the kitchen and looked around with his mouth agape.

“It wasn’t like this. The...the cabinet doors were open! All of them! And the drawers. All pulled out! I mean what could have done that all at once in the matter of seconds?”

“Your mind maybe.” Jesse answered.

Tim shook his head. “I saw it with my own eyes.” He whispered.

“Whatever it was, it’s gone now.” Joel concluded.

“Yeah, I vote we call it a night and settle around the fire. Tomorrow morning, we will collect as much as we can upstairs and prepare to leave.” Jesse suggested.

“Right, we meant to tell you guys, we found the cache!” You began excitedly. “You should have seen it. It wasn’t as extravagant as when the kids found the pirate ship in The Goonies, but it was just as special. Everything in there is everything we need.”

Rhonda’s weeping quieted down into whimpers as she was comforted by the idea that they would get to leave soon. Tim acknowledged your words with only a nod. His mind was still on the house and all the tricks it's played since the group arrived. Was the woman that Rhonda spoke about all in her head. He was quick to think so on account of her head injury. For her it was easy to explain away, but what about himself? He wasn’t a doctor of psychology, but he was familiar with the idea. He felt fine and had no idea how he could have made something up that played with more than one of his senses.

Tim volunteered to take the first shift of keeping watch, determined to catch whatever was messing with him. His plan was to wake the others up as soon as something happened so they could see what he had saw. The exhaustion he felt, however, played against him and he dozed off. When he came to, the living room was shrouded in darkness. The makeshift pit in the middle of the living room floor was nothing but ash. His mind raced as his thoughts went back to that elusive woman Rhonda was haunted by. He was so engulfed with fear that he couldn’t tell if what he was hearing was the whistling wind seeping through the cracks of the barricaded windows or the whispers of a woman. He looked at all the sleeping forms and wanted so badly to wake someone up to keep watch with him, but selflessly chose against it. Sitting there, his eyes flickered to every corner of the room, waiting for something to happen. He waited for so long that he forgot to wake Jesse up for his shift to keep watch. It wasn’t until the little rays of sunshine poked through did Tim realize how long he’d stayed awake for. There was something about the light that comforted him. He mustered enough courage to get up and stretch his legs before waking up the rest of the group.

Joel peaked behind one of the barricades and saw that the blizzard had finally passed. Despite that, there was a significant amount of snow left on the ground. The group wasted no time in doing as they agreed last night. The bad feeling that each of them got coupled with Rhonda’s injury, quickened their pace. After packing what they could carry, the group grabbed their horses and made a slow trek through the snow back to Jackson, leaving the dark manor in their wake.

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botwstoriesandsuch · 5 years ago

Text

Oblivious Actions Part 2 of 2

Revali x Reader

5827 words (hey you asked for a big boi so)

Part 1

Thank you for your patience! I really love how this turned out, even though I suck at endings. Critiques and any typo finds are appreciated if I missed anything. Anyway, enjoy!

Music filled the air, the stable was lively, and full of chatter. Understandable, considering it wasn’t everyday the Champions would grace the common folk with their presence. Many travelers were already making their way up the bridges to Rito Village, in anticipation for the Champion celebratory party set for that night. Around Rito Stable, workers had begun lighting up amber lanterns, in preparation for the sun setting in a few hours. A few Hylians were walking about. One Sheikah was playing his instrument by the campfire, humming a familiar tune, while others watched and danced along. Rito and Hylian children zigzagged between the large, wooden crates, painted with the Hyrulean crest. A worker with a maroon tunic was stirring a large pot of stew, its savoury aroma filling every part of the woods. The winds rustled through the dancing trees, creating its own, cutting melody. However, the chill was not felt from within.

Inside, the curtains by the stable entrance were half drawn, people lounged around tables, talking and eating. Warm, yellow light illuminated the room, the lanterns occasionally flickering. Workers and guests clattered about. A few men in the corner were on their third pint of ale, while a few Rito women were giggling from across the room, staring at a particular Rito and Gerudo.

He hadn’t bothered to wear his blue scarf, even though he adored it (and he would never say so out loud), he found that its emblem attracted much unwanted attention. Urbosa, on the other hand, had her sky blue skirt on, draped across the stool she was sitting on. It was the figure of a Gerudo so far into the Tabantha Region, combined with her Champion status that attracted attention. So in essence, it was her that negated any efforts Revali made to stay away from the crowds. He leaned back in his seat, staring at the ceiling restlessly, waiting for her to be finished with the last of the lingering fans.

With a flick of her wrist, Urbosa finished writing her name across the piece of parchment. The black ink at the tip of the quill soaked into the paper, leaving Urbosa’s cursive name in large letters. A thin and lanky Hylian man took it excitedly.

“T-thank you, Chief Lady Urbosa ma’am! Really! Truly! This means a lot, I’m going to— I mean… my kids are gonna love this.”

The Gerudo gave him a kind look and tilted her head, her emerald eyes gleamed. There was not a sliver of annoyance or mocking on her face. “It’s not a problem at all, sir. I find it encouraging whenever people come up to greet and support us. Don’t you think, Revali?”

Although the blank, wooden image of the ceiling was very entertaining, Rito pried his gaze away and narrowed his eyes at the two of them. The man was rocking back and forth on his heels, hugging two pieces of paper to his chest. One, already autographed with Urbosa’s loopy handwriting. The other, blank and waiting. His posture was jittery and nervous. The Hylian was switching his gaze between the Rito and the quill on the table.

Ugh.

“Why yes, Champion Urbosa. It’s always nice to meet the adoring fans.” Revali enunciated the end of the sentence carefully. He continued with a regal tone. “Especially, since we’ve wasted the last hour of our free time watching you write the same word over and over. Theoretically speaking, we have greatly supported the ink business with our presence alone.” He leaned forward, speaking directly to the Hylian. “However, I think we’ve taken enough of this gentleman’s time, so why don’t we send him on his way. After all, I’m sure there are more actually important matters that we all need to attend too.” He flicked his wing in a motion towards the stable exit.

A beat of silence. Then, the Hylian started to sputter, his cheeks reddening. “O-Oh... oh-oh yes, yes! Of course! I’ll just…” he took a shaky step back, “...be on, my, way, then. Thank you very much for your time!” He shuffled outside, nearly tripping on the step out the exit.

Letting out a huff of air, the Gerudo Chief muttered under her breath. “Ink business...hilarious as always, Revali.” He let a smirk cross over his feathered face, “Yes, I already knew that, thank you.”

Revali turned his gaze back towards the ceiling, finding comfort in the fact that all the pestering fans were gone. Urbosa rolled her eyes. “Would it kill you to be nice? Or at the very least, polite?” He scoffed.

“I don’t think having to endure lines of mindless devotees is part of our job description. Last I checked, I was chosen for my masterful skill set and bond with Medoh, not my penmanship.”

She gave a tired sigh. “We both know that’s not the point, it’s about inspiration and giving people hope.”

“If people are so eager to have my name on a piece of paper,” he picked up the quill the Hylian had accidentally left on their table, “they can write it out themselves. By this point most people have the ability to spell, correct?”

The two continued their idle banter for a bit. The conversation at this point was mostly out of a lack of other things to do, as no food or drink had arrived yet. Then, another Hylian approached their table, cheerfully.

“Excuse me, Champions, I have—”

“OH for the love of Hylia!” the Rito interrupted, “I’m afraid I’m not in the mood to deal with whatever requests you have for me.” He held his head towards the ceiling, exasperated.

“So pardon my bluntness, but why don’t you—”

“Revali,” Urbosa interjected.

He looked back towards her, a sarcastic response already at the tip of his beak. That was when he caught a glance at the Hylian woman in question.

She was holding up a wooden tray, dark and stained. A large pitcher sat on top of it, and she balanced two cups on either end. Her leather cap sat lopsided on her yellow hair. The symbol of a horse etched onto the fabric of their hat and tunic. The look on her face was that of confusion.

“Oh.”

The stable worker cleared her throat with a forced cough. “Um, you ordered the apple cider, right Champion Revali?” She set the cups down without waiting for a response. The Rito fixed his eyes on his drink, mumbling. “Yes, thank you Lucile.” At least, that’s what he thought her name was. He couldn’t bother to remember all of [Name]’s friends. The bronze colored liquid swirled in his cup.

Attempting to lighten the mood, Urbosa quipped in. “It wouldn’t be very responsible of me to let him get drunk, lest he become even more dramatic than usual.” She exchanged a quiet laugh with the waiter. Revali clicked his tongue. “I am in no need of your motherly supervision, Urbosa. Besides,” he laid his wing across his chest, theatrically, “I’m sure I can handle my drink much better than anyone here ever could.” At that, Urbosa gave a wink towards the waiter, whispering something about ego.

After pouring their drinks, the Hylian that was probably named Lucile put the pitcher back on the tray. “Alright, well, call for a refill when you want it. And don’t worry about the price or anything. [Name] said to put the rupees on their tab.”

At the mention of their name, Revali perked up. “Wait, Lucile, I noticed I haven’t seen [Name] around yet. Are they…?” he let his voice trail off. It’s not like he cared that much, he was just curious. He hadn’t seen them all day. It’s not like he was looking forward to their interactions or anything. Yeah, curious, that was the word.

“If you’re referring to your little get together later, they’re still on for that.” Lucile gave a warm and knowing smile. “The place is busier than usual, thanks to you guys. So it’s ‘all hands on deck’ if ya know what I mean.” She gave a quick nod outside, where a savoury aroma was starting to swirl its way inside. “They’re making your on the house dinner right now, so just wait a little bit longer.” Lucile tucked her blonde hair behind her ears, and picked up the tray. “Okie dokie, then. I’ll be seeing you.”

The Rito allowed himself to look outside. The view was partly obstructed by the purpleish curtains on either side, but the unmistakable glow of embers and flickering firelight could be seen. Craning his head forward a bit, he caught a glimpse of a coffee colored boot in front of a cooking pot, tapping along with the music. Huh, only one stable worker he knew would still be dancing along to the music despite working all day. Revali thought back to that time when [Name] would force him to sing along with the sparrows, just to annoy him. Or how he would invite them to Warblers nest to listen to the Rito kids chirp their tunes. I wonder how they’re doing, have they been working all day? Have they taken a break yet? I know I’ve been caught up with Champion duties, but maybe tonight—

“Wandering eyes kill, little Rito.”

Snapping back into reality, Revali quickly blinked and turned to face Urbosa. There was a calm and almost pitiful tone in her voice that he wasn’t exactly thrilled to be at the end of.

“Ah, my apologies. I should have asked for your permission to use my sense of vision.”

Unbothered by his comment, she kept the smirk on her face. “You know, I’ve never seen you laugh so easily until the other day.” He let out a loud scoff. What was that supposed to mean? Am I not allowed to express emotion on duty? Perhaps I should don the same stupid expression as that little knight.

“Well, perhaps that’s because everyone else in the group is boring.”

Urbosa leaned forward in her seat, letting her elbows rest on the table. “Let down the act, Revali. Everyone can see the big picture but you.”

“What are we even talking about?”

“[Name]”

“Uh-huh. Right, I think it would save us both time if you bothered to be specific in what you mean.” He lifted his wings in fake surrender. “What about them? You insulted by their choice in flower crowns? ”

Putting his wings down, he went for his drink. Taking up the cup of cider, Revali lifted it towards his face, using it as an excuse to not continue further into the conversation Urbosa so clearly wanted to have. Urbosa let out a huff of air. “Look, I’m just trying to compliment you two. You really are a cute couple.”

Instinctively turning to the side, Revali spat out his drink wildly. His coughing fit caused the surrounding conversations in the stable to trickle into curious whispers. A few other Rito in the back were giggling. Thankfully, he hadn’t sprayed anyone as no one was in range. He wiped down the front of his clothes and part of the table with his wing. He cleared his throat and half stood up, addressing the people that were looking at him quizzically. Revali’s voice raised in pitch and his speech quickened.

“AHEM! Wow, that was absolutely appalling and disgusting. I can’t believe the staff would be so careless as to let a dragonfly swirl around in my cup! I WILL be sure to speak with someone later concerning the cleanliness and hygienic practices of this place. So...yeah…” he let his voice echo in the room for a few more moments before sitting back down completely. Urbosa’s hands were folded as if in prayer, but her fingertips were pushed in front of her lips, as if to keep from laughing.

“Great save.”

“Shut up, will you? What in the hells did you just say? Couple? I think you’re clearly misreading things.”

She let out a short laugh. “Well, the fact that you reacted so enthusiastically says otherwise.”

“Wha—what…?” He shook his head quickly. “Urbosa, whatever you think you saw the other day isn’t what you think. [Name] and I are very obviously not dating, or seeing each other, or whatever your proper terminology is.”

“You both are very obviously into each other. You always hang out, you have cute banter. You’re dating, no?”

“NO!” He quickly shushed her comment, lowering his own voice and glancing around to see if anyone else was listening in. “The answer is NO because I don’t even like them that much. They’re very stupid, and unattractive, not to mention a Hylian. They’re an acquaintance at most. Maybe a friend.” He propped his own wing on the table and rested his beak on it. “Or close friend. A confidant...or—agh! Point is we’re not whatever you think we are!”

Urbosa let out a huff of air, letting her shoulders slump. “For a Rito, you are quite blind.”

He went for his cup again, fiddling with the chipped white paint that decorated the side. Revali didn’t bother to look up at Urbosa, for fear of unconsciously communicating something with his eyes. “Fine, then. Please, enlighten me into what I am so blind to.”

She furrowed her brows in confusion. Was he seriously not getting it? “You and [Name] seem to talk and visit each other all the time, considering you even know the staff here. You both have known each other since childhood, no doubt you’ve formed a bond. Both of you were so incredibly flustered just being in each other’s presence yesterday. Also,” she held up her head to imitate Revali’s posture, “You look pretty too!’ Does that comment ring any bells? Come on, Revali. And this is only the stuff I’ve seen in one day.”

Shocked and speechless, Revali let the silence between them settle for a bit. He considered her argument, thinking over what to say next. “OK fine, I tolerate them. Sure. That doesn’t mean it happens both ways…”

The Gerudo Chief looked as if Revali had just told her that the current King of Hyrule was five stacked cuccos. “They practically invited you for a date earlier.”

“But, we do that all the time.”

“You do!?” it was Urbosa’s turn to be shocked.

“Wait,” Revali narrowed his eyes, wheels turned in his head. Did that time he invited [Name] to watch his archery practice count? Or when [Name] had baked him a fish pie when he came to visit them even though they were sick? Wait, wait, no. Friends do that all the time, that’s absurd. Yet, he couldn’t ignore the incessant fluttering in his stomach whenever he thought about braiding their hair...or laughing beside them...or— ah! What did it all mean? He scrunched his face in confusion, lowering his voice to a whisper, “Have we already...what does...are we dating?”

Urbosa held the bridge of her nose with her fingers, sighing. “Everyone with eyes can see it. You are.”

Revali practically squaked. “WE’VE BEEN DATING?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, you’re... dating Urbosa?”

Both Revali and Urbosa whipped around in unison to face [Name], who was standing behind them holding two hot bowls of spicy meat stew.

Spirits bless his quivering soul, [Name] was here. There were still droplets of cider on his clothes, his braids were probably all frizzled from the trip down here. Was what he was wearing too formal? Too casual? Maybe he should have worn something more colorful. Hold on, was [Name] wearing their hair differently? When did they start wearing that yellow ribbon? It looked nice...should he say something? What was that new leather pouch on their belt, did someone give them that? Why all these changes? Are they seeing someone? Well it would be fine if they were...considering they were just friends. Right, they were friends— Wait a moment, did they just ask if he was dating Urbosa??

The Gerudo Champion, ever quick to regain her composure, was the first to respond. “Unfortunately, no. I’m afraid I’m a bit out of the Rito Champions league. We were talking about something else.”

The slight tension in [Name]’s shoulders relaxed, just barely noticeable. They chuckled, setting down the stews. “Ah-ha, well that’s good. Hylia knows Revali’s much more trouble than he’s worth.”

The Rito in question, who had still been sputtering over the several revelations he had come across over the last few minutes, finally regained the ability to formulate words. “...What? Hey! I’m right here!”

“Oh, sorry about that!” [Name] leaned down to face him, “I didn’t see you there. When you’re sitting down, you’re even shorter than usual! ” To further add to their quip, [Name] booped the tip of his beak with the end of a spoon. The feathers on his neck poofed up from embarrassment, though probably no one but him noticed. After placing napkins and silverware on the table, [Name] gave a deep, exaggerated bow. Their leather pouch hung out, half-open, revealing a few colorful hair ribbons. “Enjoy the meal, and thank you for staying with us, esteemed Champions,” their words were more of a tease towards Revali. “Just holler if you need anything, Revali! I’ll see you...later.” And with that, [Name] strode back outside, the brisk breeze fluttering the edges of their maroon tunic.

Revali’s thoughts were racing. Mainly centered around one word.

Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy

Urbosa looked at Revali, a twinkle in her eye. “Truly, you are made for each other. They’re the only one I’ve seen with the ability to actually make you shut up.”

Ignoring her comment, the Rito continued to stare at [Name] as she bantered with the other guests and workers outside. Then, he exhaled quickly, muttering comments that would make any mother click their tongue. Attempting to alleviate the tension, Urbosa asked, “Can I ask you a question?”

Quickly rebuilding his walls, Revali let out the usual quip. “You just did, but you have my permission to ask a secondary one.”

“Do you believe they like you back?”

He rolled his eyes. “Ugh, spare me your useless fledgling gossip and prattle. What are you going to do, exchange handwritten love letters between us? Unfold the schoolyard drama? Maybe later we can skip around in circles as we talk about our crushes before bedtime.”

She rolled her eyes. It might as well be an exercise when around Revali. “How about you answer the question?”

He turned away, looking outside and watching the dancing trees and people. “[Name] and I have been friends for years. I think I’d know if we had mutual feelings.”

Taking a napkin and placing it on her lap. She focused on enjoying her meal. “Oh but you do. You’re both clearly head over heels for each other already. Considering you're already basically dating.”

Turning back to face her, he started sputtering. “Wait, wait. Let’s back up, shall we? If we’re, as you said, basically dating, does that mean they know this? Do...do they already consider me their significant other? Do they know we’re…” he lowered his voice again, gesturing at himself wildly, “...you know.”

Urbosa slurped her stew, but held Revali’s gaze. She enjoyed its warmth and savory smell for several, several, several long seconds, still looking Revali in the eye. He spread his wings, exasperated. “Your condescending stares aren’t improving the situation.”

Finally, she finished her sip, giving a satisfied sigh. The spicy taste tingled in her mouth. “Mmm. Delicious. [Name]’s cute and a good cook. You have good taste.”

“Did you just make a pun?”

“Pfft, like you haven’t done that before?” Revali responded with a grimace.

The Rito asked again, “Can you just please take this seriously and help me with all this? You should already be flattered that I’m even bothering to continue this conversation with you. I don’t just babble about [Name] with anyone. So just...tsk...I don’t know, grace me with whatever wisdom you have.”

Urbosa raised an eyebrow, “Oh? Why should I? I’m not your mother or anything…” She flipped her velvet hair and looked away dramatically. Seems the Rito’s personality rubbed off on her.

Revali rolled his eyes, “Are you really going to make me—”

“Yes.” she said bluntly.

“Well, I’m not—”

“Hm?”

“I said—”

“What?”

“Can you—”

“Yes?”

Revali sat there, eyes narrowed. Seems there was only one way he was gonna get her to talk. Urbosa gave a hearty laugh, her chocolate smooth voice echoing through the room. She kept her eyebrows raised, looking at him expectantly. After letting out another sigh, the Rito grumbled, barely opening his beak. “Can you please help me with all this...” Urbosa cupped a hand around her ear, a smirk plaster on her face. Revali quickened his speech. “...ugh you’re insufferable...considering you are the closest thing to a parental figure in my life and you’re more of an expert in this than I am, please tell me what in the hells I should do about [Name]—THERE! Happy?”

She started chuckling again, laughter must come easy for her. Shooting him a wink, Urbosa mused, “I think that’s satisfactory. Was that so hard?”

“Very.”

She snorted. Leaning back in her seat, she jeered him further. “Alright, maybe I won’t let you crash and burn this cute relationship of yours, considering it’s my responsibility to look out for all the little children in my life.” Revali scoffed.

Before he had the chance to nag her further, Urbosa continued. “So, Revali, from my own expert deductions on your whole,” she moved her spoon towards him in a circular motion, “situation, I’ve concluded that you’re both idiots.” He grumbled and shot daggers at her.

“Thank you. Very helpful.”

“You’re welcome. Now,” she set down her spoon, “Listen close and listen well, Revali. You’re both in the same boat here. [Name] didn’t react that badly at the prospect of you going out with me. However, their eyes immediately lit up when I clarified that you were not, infact, taken.

“This means that they also don’t realize the obvious fact that you’re dating each other. Yet, they reacted with a hint of jealousy, so there’s no question they’ve got it for you.” Revali shifted in his seat, but allowed her to resume.

“They were completely oblivious to Daruk’s earlier comment about you being cute together. Yet, they’ve continuously made moves that suggest they really like you. Did you see their face when you put your wing around them yesterday?” She sighed. “ Who knows what other signs you’ve both been oblivious to all your lives.” Finally, she leaned forward and pointed a finger at Revali.

“You’re both too lovestruck to see how lovestruck your loves are for you.” Then, she went for her drink, sipping it slowly.

Taking her silence as a cue to speak, he asked softly. “Alright, so what do I do?”

“I don’t know,” was all that came from behind the cup.

He practically squaked again. “What? But? You just? Why—”

She held up a finger to shush him. “The best I can say is that you should probably openly confess so there’s not anymore confusion between you two fools. How, where, and when? Well that’s entirely up to you. Maybe at the party tonight you can whip up something.”

The likelihood of someone like [Name] showing up to a party filled with stuffy nobles, pestering fans, and overall loud people seemed slim. From experience, Revali probably thought [Name] would spend the night in the woods or something, searching for wildflowers. “I can assure you that’s not going to happen.”

Urbosa gave a final shrug. “Well then, good luck.” She went back to eating the rest of her meal.

Revali cast his eyes to the floor, deep in thought. What was he gonna do?

Several minutes passed, and Urbosa basked in the rare occurance of the Rito Champion's silence. Thoughts and anxieties swarmed his head like bees to a courser honey comb. Then, the wind swept past the curtains and through the stable entrance, fluttering something under Revali’s foot. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a feather. It was a familiar deep blue, bordering on indigo, the edges were stroked with white. The color and hue was unmistakable.

Losing one or two happened everyday, sure, but what was peculiar was that this particular feather was that it seemed to be from a fledgling. The white marks faded to grey slightly, indicating the not yet fully formed colors of a young Rito hatchling.

Tsk. I’ll admit I have youthful looks, but I’m not that young.

Picking it up off the floor, he studied the stiff end of the feather, he was surprised to find it was decorated. A yellow ribbon was wrapped around its end. At one point, it was a brighter, daffodil like color, but now it had faded with time to a more pastel shade. The color matched well.

Why on earth does someone have my—

Suddenly, Revali stood up, almost flipping the table. “Hey!” Urbosa held the table steady. “Revali? Are you alright?”

Earlier, they were wearing a new leather pouch. It was half open, there were trinkets...ribbons inside.

“Revaaaaaaali?”

When they were joking around, they fake bowed. Did this...did this fall out?

“Are you alright? Where’d you get that feather? Is it yours?”

[Name] kept this? After all this time? That idiot, don’t they know about Rito custom by now? Someone might get the wrong idea.

Or the right idea...GAH! Whywhywhywhywhy—

Breaking his eyes away from the feather, he pushed in his seat and started to leave. “Well, you’ve had your free meal, hope your food was good Urbosa. Now I have to go.” Revali started shuffling out towards the exit, hastily shoving the little feather into his own pocket. “I’ll meet up with you at that idiotic party later. Right now I need to be somewhere.”

Urbosa started to chuckle. “So, heading out early to your date?” Nearly outside, The Rito abruptly stopped and turned to face her. Her eyebrows were raised in suspicion. “And Urbosa, if you tell anyone at all, and I mean even the slightest whisper in the breeze, about our conversation, I have a bomb arrow nocked and ready for you.” He gave her a death stare, but she just laughed.

Her chocolatey voice resonated through the air once more, laughter must truly come easy for her. After shooting him a wink, she smiled.

“Good luck, little Rito.”

- - - - -

Ironic, that the Champion of the sky would frequent the area of his first failure. But, the woods had their own calm and beautiful atmosphere, made all the more pleasant when he and [Name] would hang out here through their childhood. Revali knew these trees all too well, from when he first crashed into them as a child to when he practiced his archery in the time before the Flight Range was built.

Walking along the dirt path, he spotted them up ahead. Their secret spot wasn’t that secluded, it was by a small grassy clearing within the forest. Tall pine trees swayed in the wind, the setting sunlight was cut apart by the shifting shadows. The rose, orange, and yellow light coated the sky and shimmered through the branches. The bushes during this time of year held small buds, some had already bloomed into more colorful yellow flowers, although most were still a young green. Kneeling on the ground [Name] was shuffling through a leather pouch, spilling the contents on the ground and searching for something among the mess. A few hair ribbons, a spare quill, a comb, empty elixir bottles, and other junk cluttered the forest floor. Sensing a presence behind them, [Name] spun around to find Revali, standing there with his wings folded behind his back.

“I don’t suppose all that is to help the fertility of the forest?”

[Name] rubbed the back of their neck, brushing aside their hair, embarrassed. “No, I was just...organizing my things.” Trying to move the conversation away from that, they asked, “So, how’ve you been, Master Revali?”

The Rito brushed his wings against the pocket on his side, where a certain item was tucked away. Tilting his head, he innocently asked, “Are you sure you weren't looking for something just now? We both know you have a habit of being terribly irresponsible.”

[Name] started to formulate an excuse at the tip of their tongue, but one glance at Revali’s expression told them it would be useless. “Alright, fine. Yeah, I lost something, but I’ll find it later. We don’t need to worry about it right now. Why don’t—”

“What did you lose?” He didn’t mean to come off so blunt, but he needed to know. He wanted to be sure. He needed to remove any doubts from his mind. [Name] gave a hasty shrug.

“Uh, just an old trinket. It’s nothing, really. It’s just this dumb thing I had as a kid—”

“So what is it?”

“Nothing! OK? You don’t need to push it, there’s no need to concern yourself with it…” their voice trailed off.

“Was it blue?”

Both their hearts stopped. [Name] suddenly looked up into Revali’s eyes. The looks they both gave each other confirmed their wordless questions. Letting the silence fall a bit longer, [Name] finally dared to whisper.

“How did you...?”

He reached for his pocket. He meant to do this confidently, to swoop in and present it with flair. Perhaps say a quip like “Aha! Of course you kept this. My feathers are of the most dazzling color and quality after all!” Yet, no words escaped his beak. He held out his feather, the pale yellow ribbon hung lazily in the wind. He held it out in front of him, his usual confidence left him. No need to get my hopes up early, just please tell me, if it’s true.

The feather stood between them, shifting back old memories. The sounds were only that of the forest. Crickets softly chirped, and the wind danced through the trees. The sunset trickled through the leaves. Revali let out a cough.

“Ah, well....I believe you left this at our table.”

Neither of them made a move. [Name] was just standing there, bewildered, their gaze constantly shifting between Revali and the feather. They rubbed their boot on the ground awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Finally, the Rito started to speak again.

“Did you know—”

“Yeah,” they said. “Yes...I’ve known about the whole Rito culture thing since when we were kids. You exchange feathers to show that a piece of you is bound to that person for eternity. Then you can, like, braid it into their hair or something? You only do it with your soulmate, or significant other, or whatever the proper terminology is.” Memories started to stir in the back of Revali’s mind, but they continued, waving their hands in front of them in surrender. “I mean, when I first asked you for it, I had no idea about the custom. I just thought it looked nice,” they rubbed the back of their neck, their cheeks rosening. “When I got back to the stable, some elderly guy told me about it. But I didn’t have the heart to throw it away or anything. I just kept it under the floorboards so no one would find it.

“Ah, but tonight there were so many people, plus the Champions… I thought it would be safer on me.” They gestured to Revali, “And, of course, I was wrong, haha….” They let their shoulders slump. “Goddess above, I’m sorry, this is so weird huh. I didn't want to tell you in case you...took it back. I probably should have, I don’t have the right to keep something that should be sentimental...but…”

Their voice trailed off. Revali continued to say nothing. Taking this as a cue to say something more, [Name] added, “I’m sorry, obviously when we were kids you didn’t mean anything that way. I should have told you sooner.”

His heart was racing. Well, both of their hearts were. Taking in their words, Revali could feel his stomach start to flutter, the winds played with the end of his braids. Still holding the feather in front of him, he extended it towards them shakily. “Well, take it. It’s yours.”

They looked up from the ground in shock. “R-Revali! Don’t feel obligated to do anything just because I—”

“And there’s a comb among the junk you’ve littered on the forest floor, correct?”

They took a step back. “Wait, wait. Does this mean you—”

He suddenly took their arm and twirled them around, facing them away from him. “Yes, now sit down already. I’m not gonna do this standing.”

His feathers were poofed out, from the mixed emotions of pride, embarrassment, and adoration. Plopping [Name] in the grass, he went over and picked out the wooden comb among their belongings.

Seeing [Name] about to churn out more excuses and questions, he held up his wing to shush them. “Shut up will you? This is long overdue.” He sat down behind them, the grass prickling against his feet. Revali started to carefully undo the yellow ribbons in [Name]’s hair. Softly, they asked “So for you, how long? When we were kids? Teens?”

“A while,” he simply stated. “It just took me some time to really accept it I suppose.” Silence overtook them once more, though its atmosphere was much more pleasant and warm. Parting their hair into sections, Revali started to lighten the mood with a quip.

“Did you know we’ve already been dating over the last few years?”

“What?!”

“Yeah, you’re pretty much an idiot for not seeing it. I mean, all those times we’ve been in each others’ company. I don’t know how you’ve gone this long without realizing.”

They laughed. “Maybe the idiot Rito I’ve been hanging out with rubbed off on me.”

“Maybe.”

Finally, he placed the feather within their hair. After braiding it halfway, he twisted the yellow ribbon with it, and finished off the braid. The colors of his feather and the ribbon matched perfectly.

“Is it done?”

Before he could give an answer, [Name] brushed their hand against their hair. They both sat there, in the grass, for another eternity. Suddenly, [Name] turned around, and planted their lips on his beak. After releasing him, they stared into each other's eyes for a moment. “Heh, I’ve been waiting a long time to do that.” they mused. “What’s with the look? Should I enlighten you on the Hylian custom then?”

His feathers were now fluffed up mainly from embarrassment, but he regained his composure at their smile. “I’m quite aware of what a kiss is. It’s just that Rito have something better.”

Revali wrapped his wing around the back of their head, moving it gently towards his. Pressing their foreheads against each other, they both smiled, half flustered. His soft face tickled their skin, but they smiled for more reasons than that.

“This works too.”

“Of course, I’m an expert at this sort of thing.”

A beat, and then they both laughed. The sun was almost completely swallowed by the horizon . The Rito Champion was probably going to miss the party, but it didn’t matter. He was busy with more important matters, anyhow.

#botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #loz botw #revali x reader #botw fanfiction #revali #revali botw #urbosa #urbosa botw #rito #rito botw #rito stable #botw x reader

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awesomerextyphoon · 4 years ago

Text

Charred Briar Roses - 4

Meet the Family

Paring: Orc!Bucky x Black!Reader, Orc!Steve x Black!OFC, Orc!Sam x Black!OFC

Rating: 18+/Explicit

Word Count: 3,500

Summary: The girls get to meet the family.

Warnings: Smut and Mentions of Death

A/N: I’m sorry that this took so long to publish. I had a major writer’s block. Also, the smut is not as good as I wanted so bear with me. Enjoy!

Back to Masterlist

It took five days to reach the group to reach the Orc Settlement. Most of the journey consisted of Fumnanya giggling at Sam’s (not so great, but whatever) jokes while sneaking in a kiss or two, Ghada acting like she’s above the romance then getting caught making out with Steve (she seriously likes it), and you giving Bucky the cold shoulder. You saw the regret in his eyes, but you were too stubborn to give him a chance.

The Orc Settlement was located in the lowlands of the Anchoria Steppes not far from the Tsurchack Forest with its center nestled between a segmented river and a good sized lake to its right. It consisted of a few hundred dwellings that seemed to be a nice cross between a yurt and a longhouse (**think Viking Longhouse**) built with reusable timber, metal, and stone. A couple of the dwellings near the edges were sectioned off into what looked to be farms of six to ten families. There were training areas and market places interspersed throughout the settlement. In the middle, there was a large arena like structure near the center next to what had to be the Elder’s Residence with more town like structures around them. Surrounding the whole settlement was a wall of stone, packed earth, and iron about 12ft high with sensors (probably a force field) sticking on top of it every five feet or so.

It looked beautiful, so different from your former home of extreme decadence.

“Welcome to our home. I know it’s not as-” Steve started.

“It’s beautiful!” Ghada exclaimed while turning her head to smile at him, “We don’t care where you live. We’re just glad you agreed to take us with you.” Steve responded with a low hum and gave her a kiss.

It would’ve been more, but Bucky cleared his throat, “We need to report to the elders as soon as possible.” It was followed by, “And not have you suck your match’s face.” Thankfully neither of the two lovebirds heard him.

Some of the children in front of the gates ran up to the group with bright eyes and smiles wondering if they brought back sweets and toys.

Steve smiled and responded with a ‘You’ll see’ and motioned to the elder’s residence.

Once you passed the front gates, you and your sisters were greeted with reactions ranging from awe to outright contempt. You wondered if they knew of your identities, but Bucky assured you that it was because his people are a bit weary of outsiders. He decided not to tell you about how some of Sophronius’ forces had the almost the exact same hair color and types of clothes, but that was for another time. Right now, he needed to get the elders to let you three stay.

––––––––––––––––––––––––

When they reached the Elder’s Residence – a large longhouse consisting of wood, stone, metal and sturdy fabrics at the top – you stopped yourself from taking another step passed the threshold. What if they didn’t accept you? What if the elders or other members ratted you out to Sophronius? Or will they just have you exiled once they get the riches you and your sisters brought?

Bucky sensed your trepidation and put an enormous hand on your right shoulder, “It’s okay. You’ve got this.” With that your group entered the building.

The elders sat on a raised rectangular dais in the middle of the room with two guards on either end. There was a chandelier and torches all around the main room. Various statues and artifacts of elders passed are placed/hung around the room.

It was intimidating to say the least.

“Welcome back, warriors! Were you successful in your mission?” One of the elders, Argusa, inquired in Orcish.

“We ran into an old woman who directed us to the lost capital of the Nephrashim.” Steve explained.

“That is nothing but myth, Rogers! If you found nothing than just say so. Honestly, one would think that the halflings would be better at excuses than this.” One of the guards, Figrel, scoffed. He later raised his hands in surrender when Bucky moved in to pummel him.

“Enough, Figrel! Please continue Steve.” Cladista, another elder, gently urged.

“We found the capital to be deserted...except for the princesses. They were at the palace. They agreed to come back with us and we were able to procure valuable medical supplies, building materials, and treasure that we might use for trade.” Steve reported as the elders fixed their gazes onto you and your sisters.

The staring went on for three minutes. No one made a sound as the elders were casting their initial judgement upon you.

With a loud sigh, Argusa spoke in Common Tongue, “We will hear their case. Tell us, why should we let you stay with us?”

Ghada took a cautious step forward, “My sisters and I can offer our services. Fumnanya is a skilled medic and scholar, Y/N is an amazing inventor and metalworker, and I am trained in trade deals and negotiations. Furthermore, all three of us are pretty well versed in combat and culinary arts.” She appealed while searching for any sign of approval from the elders.

“We can attest to their skills if it’s of any consequence.” Sam piped up when it got eerily quit again.

“Interesting. What do you think, Zadia? You’ve been awfully quiet.” Argusa inquired as she turned to the last elder.

“Hmm. They can stay with Bucky’s sisters and stepmother for now. We shall see about their services another time. Enjoy your stay, girls.” Zadia decided while motioning the group to leave.

The short excursion to Bucky’s family’s place was nice. More people warmed up to you (and by that I mean no one gave the three of you blatant glares of contempt), some even walked up and asked questions about you.

It was nice, but all that didn’t matter if Bucky’s family didn’t like you.

You kept telling yourself that you didn’t care what they thought of you, but you knew that was a lie. It angered you that you cared so much. He was the one that said no! Then why did it hurt so much?

Bucky’s sisters and stepmother lived on a farm near the outskirts of the settlement. It comprised of one large dwelling with four smaller ones surrounding it in a circular fashion. Outside of the dwelling circle were smaller cabins and huts for storing food, livestock, hunting tools and combat weapons, and stables for their dire wolves and eagle horses.

It was nice getting to know Bucky’s family. He had three younger sisters – Rebecca (Becca/Becky), Isolde, and Melisende (Meli) – along with Aspasia, his stepmother, a brother-in-law and three nieces and one nephew. They joked and laughed with you three about embarrassing hijinks the guys performed during their youth. You shared some of the your stories about Nephrashim and your former lives. They quickly accepted the three of you as family.

Furthermore, it was nice not having to worry about princess duties and royal decorum. All of you helped around the farm doing several chores for the first time; you didn’t have any hiccups besides Fumnanya freaking out over one of the eagle horses, but Sam handled it.

The only thing that could be better is the treatment you got from the rest of the settlement. Most of the inhabitants either scowled or just pretended that you three didn’t exist. Becca explained that it was because almost none of them had seen clothes and features (hair/eyes) like yours before, but you knew better. It was because they knew you were from Nephrashim. Bucky’s family never breathed a word about it outside the farm’s borders and you doubted the elders would say anything.

Well, you hoped that it would get better. And it did.

An outbreak of Sxtatzia (a cross between Smallpox and Influenza but for orcs) swept through the settlement. Most of the inhabitants who were infected got better except for Zadia.

Just about everyone had lost hope when Sam and Bucky marched in with Fumnanya and Meli in tow (Fumnanya had been teaching Meli some basic medical procedures and best practices). Fumnanya was able to work her magic after Sam threat-, ahem, insisted the guards let her look at the elder. It took the team four hours to create a viable and effective cure.

The day after Zadia was shown to be steadily getting better, the elders put the former princesses to work. Ghada assisted the traders in negotiations, trade deals and some body language/social cues that surprisingly holds up. Fumnanya taught the medics the different practices, poultices, and minor surgical procedures she knew. You taught the metal artisans what you knew about engineering and metalworking techniques.

The warriors couldn’t be happier with this new development. Well, maybe they missed having the three of you near them most of the time, especially Bucky.

––––––––––––––––––––

It had been three weeks and you still hadn’t talked to him besides an occasional sentence and he was getting pissed. Everyone else tip-toed around the subject of you two and it didn’t help that Steve and Sam were getting closer with their matches. Bucky had to go on hunting trips on his own if only to have a respite from the non-stop lovey-dovey chatter about their matches.

He finally got his chance when he was walking (lurking) around the blacksmiths/artisan section where you had your workshop set up. You were giving a welding demonstration when a little shit, Figrel’s younger brother, attempted to grab your ass.

Bucky strode right into the workshop, punched the little shit, threw you over his shoulder, and went on his merry way back to his dwelling on his family’s farm.

“What the fuck was that?!” you shouted as he plopped you onto a nest of cushions.

“I can’t let you go back there. All those eyes leering at you.”

“What do you care? You were the one who said no at the baths!” You countered as you stood up to take your leave.

You didn’t even make it past him because he growled in frustration and spun you around to face him.

He inwardly smirked at your whimpering, loving the way your lower lip quivered.

“Because you’re MINE!” Bucky bellowed.

You gazed up at him with coy smile, “Prove it,” and he smashed his lips against yours and pushed you onto his bed.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Bucky may have had plenty of sexual partners, but he never kissed anyone...until you. Now he could see what all the fuss was about.

He pried open your mouth with his tongue and groaned when you accepted him while wrapping your arms around his thick neck. He loved the way your tongue danced with his and ended with your graceful but fierce submission.

Once he finally broke for air, Bucky moved to your jaw and neck gently nipping your skin with his tusks. He peppered you with kisses causing small moans to escape your desperate lips.

“Bucky please!” You pleaded as he sent waves of heat to your core.

Bucky stopped his touches, looked you right in the eye, and responded with, “Not yet,” and continued undoing you.

He ripped off your vest and worker blouse and hummed at the sight of your chest. Seeing you now, panting with a ‘giddy fucked’ face, looking at him with half-lidded eyes, made almost all the blood in his face go straight to his cock.

He dove into your chest, licking and gently sucking your breasts while you grabbed his soft dark brown (almost black) hair moaning his name. He worked your breasts so well that you came for the first time in your life within minutes.

“Bet you’ve never had one of your human boys do this to you, woman?” Bucky remarked with a smirk as he ripped off the rest of your clothing like it was tissue paper.

You could only gasp out a ‘No’ before Bucky sprinkled your midsection and hips with sloppy, desperate kisses (he used a lot of tongue) which again caused you moan. You wondered how much more you could take.

The Fae’s training never prepared you for this!

When he finally got to your thighs, Bucky hummed as he took in the sweet smell of your arousal. He faintly kissed and nipped at your inner thighs causing you to cry out in euphoria and impatience. He ignored your cries and gave your slit one long, slow lick.

You hissed at the sensation both from how amazing it felt and frustration from both Bucky and yourself for denying it from happening sooner.

Bucky’s enormous tongue attacked you pussy alternating between your clit and your folds. He soon added a thick finger to the mix causing to edge again and again until you beseeched him to let you come.

“You’re MINE princess! SAY IT!!”

You whimpered at his demand and Bucky stopped moving altogether.

“SAY IT!!”

You mewled, “I’m yours! I’m your bitch!”, you answered remembering what Becca said male Orcs loved to hear their women say.

Bucky chuckled and got up to remove his clothes and decided to make a show of it.

You were sober enough to gaze lustfully at his sleek, muscular, ruggedly handsome frame. You heard the women in the settlement gossip about how they thought the likes of Bucky is wasted on a ‘stupid trollop’ like you.

Checkmate bitches!

He removed his loincloth, his last bit of clothing, to reveal a behemoth of a cock.

You almost gulped at the size. You and your sisters have heard about cocks from gossiping maids and servants before the curse. Those ones sounded like they were a good size, but Bucky’s was on a much higher level.

Bucky, the lovable but cocky bastard, smirked, “Never seen one this big, huh?”

You bit your lip and looked down in shame, “I haven’t seen one at all.”

“And it’ll be the last one you’ll see, sweetheart.”

You let out an uncharacteristic giggle as Bucky parted your legs and lined his cock at your entrance.

He went in slowly as to not hurt you, but you still hissed at the size of him. You’ve never felt so full in your life.

“You’re doing so well for me,” Bucky grunted, “So tight!”

He filled you to the hilt and stayed there for a few minutes while he helped you get your breathing under control.

He started with slow strokes, savoring the way your pussy squeezed him, like you were made for him. He tried to keep it slow out of respect since it was for first time, but you felt so good so he picked up his pace.

The earlier feeling of discomfort at his size soon faded into euphoria. You never dreamt of pleasure like this. Now you understood what your and Bucky’s sisters were going on about. You mewled when Bucky hit your G-Post just right.

It wasn’t long before your first orgasm hit you like a tsunami and you convulsed around him a wave after wave of carnality washed over you. Soon Bucky came with a roar, shooting long thick ropes of his cum into you to the point of creating a bulge in your midsection and you passed out.

When you awoke, you felt a strong arm wrapped around you and a hand gently stroking your hair and back.

“I know you’re awake, sweetheart.”

You open your eyes and looked up to see love (actual love, not lust) and understanding etched in Bucky’’s features. You never knew you needed it, for someone to actually see you for yourself, not what you could give them.

He exhaled, “I’m sorry for the baths. It’s just that I didn’t want to have sex and then you’d leave me. I know it selfish, but-”

You stopped him with a soft kiss on the lips, “Why would I leave you? You actually see me for myself and not for my former station or as an annoyance. Okay, minus your sisters, stepmother, nieces and nephew because they are awesome.”

Bucky chuckled as his some of his long hair fell in front of his face, “I’ll be sure to tell them that, but not Becca. She has a big ego as it is.”

You giggled in response,”That’s fair,” you bit your lip and shot Bucky a coy look, “Do you want to go again?”

You didn’t need to ask him twice.

You two were at it for the rest of the day. The sounds of your lovemaking evident to the rest of the farm’s inhabitants.

“Finally!” Becca exclaimed as she and Ghada were sewing new clothes for the orclings.

Isolde chose that moment to walk into the common room, “Yes! I get my room back!”

The princesses and their matches were in bliss. Everything was right with the world...until it wasn’t.

––––––––––––––––––

It was two months after you and Bucky officially got together. The whole settlement had gotten into an easy rhythm of things when one of scout’s warning horns went off.

“It’s the Horde!”

Everyone who was not fighting was running to the shelters. Bucky had asked you to stay with Becca’s children and mother. You wanted to get angry, but you knew it was because he wanted someone he trusted and loved to have his stepmother’s back. So you grabbed Waning Swan and ran to the shelters.

The battle lasted until morning and the settlement won, but at a price. Casualties came in at 80 dead and 200 wounded. The scariest thing wasn’t the gore or the corpses, it was the words, “He Knows”, scorched into the ground in front of the arena, or the Assembly Place.

Later that day, everyone who was able crowded into Assembly. Everyone’s eyes were boring into you. Fumnanya kept her head to Sam’s chest, but it wasn’t working.

“I knew those harlots were trouble the moment they strode into our settlement!” A woman who lost her mate to the battle shouted. A chorus of shouts of agreement followed.

Ghada was getting nervous as evident by her squeezing both yours and Steve’s hand. Luckily someone stood up for the group.

“I understand that you’ve suffered, Brida. I lost a son to the Horde, but we can’t blame it all on them. Sophronius has been after us for years. Be reasonable.” Agi stated while the guys gave him a nod of appreciation.

“Fuck that! You’re only saying that because you were they’re mates instructor and your nephew married one those mongrel bitches!” Baldo, another older warrior, exclaimed.

Big mistake.

It would take ten years to ascertain what really happened in the five minutes that followed. Baldo was thrown out of the Assembly, Brida was nursing a broken jaw, Becca had a wound on her left forearm from a sword, and Bucky had to be kept from attacking an idiot by Sam, Steve, Agi, and five other orcs. Everyone else was in an uproar and honestly, a full on fight was going to break out.

“SILENCE!” Argusa roared.

“We need to rebuild. Callisa, can we get a status report by the end of the day?”

Callisa was about to answer when someone demanded that they should do something about the Horde.

Steve gave everyone in your group a knowing and somewhat crestfallen look, “We’ll go to the Resistance and see if they can help.”

It took some minutes before Argusa gave the group an answer. The settlement tried to stay away from Sophronius and the war, but one could say their chickens have come home to roost.

“Alright then, you three take the girls and go first thing tomorrow.” Argusa decided.

“It’s not fair! You just got ‘ere, Auntie! Ingunn cried as she hugged Ghada. All of the orclings were crying and it was breaking your and your sister’s hearts. They’ve made such an impact in your lives that it hurt to leave them now.

“I’m sorry, love, but we have to leave. We’ll be back before you know it.” Ghada reassured her, but you had a feeling it would be a while before your group would return.

With one final hug and a pat, you said your goodbyes to the orclings. Meli, Isolde, Aspasia, Becca, and her mate, Gernot were waiting for you all at the gate.

“I know you’re sad about leaving us, but we will meet again my dears.” Aspasia uttered as she gave each of you a hug.

“Take care and keep these knuckleheads in line.” Becca joked while she gave Bucky a playful punch to the shoulder.

So with a heavy heart, you left the place that felt more like home in many ways than the place you were born.

The group headed southwest to the coordinates a trader said that he saw some Resistance Members. You were crossing a valley when an unscented flash landmine went off and everything went blinding white then black.

Next thing you knew, your group was in chains surrounded by a group protected by shadow...except for five individuals wearing necklaces and a medallion that belonged to…

“Mother!”

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highfunctioningflailgirl · 4 years ago

Text

My Lethal White episode 1 recap

After having had a lot of fun recapping episode 2, I went back and did episode 1 as well. It got a bit out of hand and is a loooong post...

Under the cut, because, evidently, there will be ALL THE SPOILERS! 🚨

*SQUEEEEE!!!* THEY’RE BACK!!! 🤗💃🏻🙌🏼 (Yes, I’m still squeeing, although this is a rewatch)

Let’s look at the title sequence, shall we? They’ve added a few new details: There’s the wooden cross from the dell, the White Horse of Uffington and Robin’s Houses of Parliament guest pass. The child from Billy’s memories and the pink blanket. Someone’s already mentioned the ‘whore’ swirling in the coffee cup, and then later we have a fencing icon in the pint. Cool hints. 😎

Cut to tired, head-achy Cormoran at the wedding. Strike has a slightly different haircut, and I wonder: they dye Tom’s hair darker for the role, but he has a glint of natural first grey at the temples that I’ve seen on Tom pre-Strike. How did they keep that? (Sorry about the hair kink digression…☺️)

Pet peeve of mine they carried over from Career of Evil: in the book, Donald Laing slashes Strike’s palm, but it didn’t happen in the series. There was no blood on his hand when he called Robin, and his glove was intact. And yet, Strike has his hand bandaged. I know it’s a silly pet peeve of mine, but stuff like that pulls me out of the moment. And Strike wouldn’t slap on a bandage just for a little bruising. *steps off soap box*

“You look beautiful.” - “And you look terrible.” - “It’s this jacket, needs taking in.” 😂

“I want you back.” - “What?” Augh, the double meaning of it all, Strike’s softness and Robin’s initial uncertainty of what he means. 🥺

When she realizes that Matt deleted Strike’s messages, there’s a tear spilling from her eye, and she quickly wipes it away. 😢 Such good acting. Such a brave girl.

A few of us have already addressed this in the chat: did Matt BLOCK Strike, or delete his calls and messages? Or both? They’re frustratingly unclear about this detail, and it makes a difference in terms of Strike being able to reach her or not. (I’m a continuity nerd, sorry)

Sarah standing next to Matthew. *gags*

Robin looks so beautiful! And so very sad. (Holliday is acting her heart out of this season, can’t say it enough). This is award material, hands-down. 🏆

Her look across the room at Cormoran while they’re eating! And he’s… just been staring at her all through the meal? Good god. These two.

If Cormoran falls asleep before dessert he’s got to be really, REALLY tired.☺️ Poor baby.

We’ve got to work on your fine dining skills, Cormoran darling! It’s very cowboy and rugged, handling cutlery like that, but you would SINK during an aristocracy under-cover op. Maybe the Comte de la Fère is available for a lesson?

The first chords of The Calling’s “Wherever you will go”. Ack. They really went for the original, and as someone who’s always been ridiculously in love with that cheesy song, I AM HERE FOR IT.

Cormoran walking slow-mo past the bridesmaids, looking at Robin dancing with Matt The Twat. My heart…💔

When I’m gone you’ll need love to light the shadows on your face… *sniff*

Cormoran’s FACE during the dance. I can’t. He looks like a puppy about to get shot. 🥺

(and what a juxtaposition to the little lady with the funny hat bobbing happily next to him, to everyone looking awww and being completely ignorant of the drama that’s playing out. Ugh. I’m dead.)

Matthew moves like someone who’s (painstakingly) learned exactly one (1) dance, and for their wedding only, and why is he even smiling so proudly? They must’ve just had the biggest row in history? Is he really so full of himself?

Even Robin is smiling, although staring longingly at Strike. I bet they did that so Strike would be a little mad at her and want to walk away.

AND HE DOES! 😟 You can just see the “Fuck this” from the book crossing his face as he turns around and leaves. Ack. I’m dead again.

If I could then I would, I’ll go wherever you will go

(Perfectly placed, kudos) 👏🏼

And she runs after him, looking like a fairy-tale princess. Did you see how frigging COLD it must’ve been, judging by her breath?! Poor Holliday must have been freezing to death during the shoot. And then to pull off such a heartbreaking scene…

(Also, the lawn in the park? A shitload of rolled sods. No grass looks this lusciously green in winter, and you can see the edges everywhere. Some landscaper had a field day there!)

“Are you sure?” - “Yeah. I am.” About WHAT, you idiots?! *wrings hands* To her coming back to work, of course, but there’s so much more to their statements. And I’m sure that non-book-readers thought they were about to kiss and elope, but - alas! - we know that’s not going to happen.😔

But at least we get The Hug™️, and it’s everything we hoped for: Robin crying, digging her fingers into his jacket; Cormoran closing his eyes… God help us, we are all DOOMED sailing this ship! 🙈💔

I was a little miffed upon first watching that they faded out of that hug so quickly. That was it? No, it wasn’t, as we now know, and I love, love, love that we’re getting all these extended flashbacks that reveal more and more of what happened to us!

ONE BLOODY YEAR LATER (I still can’t get over that time jump)

Lol at the subcontractor crashing his moped into the cab! It was only briefly mentioned in the book, and turning it into an actual dialogue was a fun idea.😂

And there’s Denise (that IS her, right?), completely uninterested in doing her job. Good grief - Strike and Robin are BAD a picking employees! 🙈

Robin looking not-jealous-at-all at Strike walking off with Lorelei. Ouch.

I like Lorelei, btw. They chose the actress well, and she’s nice and mature. Which doesn’t mean that I’m not secretly flinching every time she kisses Cormoran. It’s just not right.

Billy. Joseph Quinn does an incredible job playing him. 👏🏼 As dangerous as he appears at first, his despair and his efforts at holding himself together are heartbreaking. That battle he wages against his mental illness is on full display, and his scared big eyes are killing me. 🥺

Cormoran is admirably unfazed by Billy’s appearance - is that his Army training kicking in? Robin, though, is shaking but braving it out, recording with her phone although her hands are trembling. Good acting by Holliday.

Good riddance, Denise.

The good ole’ pencil trick. “I didn’t know people still did this.” 😌

I was surprised that Cormoran chose to simply break into the house on Charlemont road. It’s breaking and entering for no good reason. Could’ve been anybody’s home.

He’s not going to- EWW! He’s sitting down on that filthy couch. And plucking hairs from it. EWW!🤢

Robin: “...and some porn.” 😂 Says it as if it’s what they always find. The usual. Men… 🙄

Who’s the guy taking pictures of Cormoran? I seriously don’t remember this from the b- Oh, WAIT! Reporter guy. Patterson. Yeah. Him.

The CORE members are as cliché in their looks as are Chiswell’s upper class folks. It’s all a bit on the nose for my taste, but then clichés are clichés for a reason.

Cormoran needs to work on his disguises. Not fitting in at all with the CORE crowd, age-wise or in his look. No wonder they don’t trust him. He does it better in the books.

Oh Robin. I actually think you need a lot more therapy to work through your shit.

Ah, here we go. Seaborn bacteria. But first, Matt’s got to be a prick again. 🙄

Chiswell with his arrogance and his rudeness and his finger-snapping. *shakes head* I think if Cormoran hadn’t known he could make some serious money with this case, he may have walked out on him.

Btw, the “large” jacket is making Strike look slimmer instead of bigger. 😄 They’re so desperately mentioning Strike’s largeness, as if beating it over our heads could actually make us not see barely-6-foot and slender Tom Burke.

“Couple more potatoes wouldn’t hurt.” And his FACE! 🥰

Glenister is a really good actor. I always listen to the Strike audiobooks that he narrates, and I was worried hearing his voice in the show would be confusing, but it’s not because he sounds so different. Can’t wait for him reading “Troubled Blood” to me! 🎧

Is it a coincidence that Drummond’s art gallery has a painting of a horse in its front window? I think not.

I love that soft blue shirt they put Cormoran in. Makes him look very huggable. *blushes*

“Not sure I would make a convincing goddaughter either.”😂

So in England you can just walk up to a minister’s house and ring the doorbell without any security people stopping you? Interesting.

Chiswell just shutting the door in Cormoran’s face. RUDE.😠

The brown contact lenses. 👀 Okay, they make her look different, but not THAT different. It’s her sudden posh accent that’s the real stunner.

The panic attacks. Holliday plays them so well, I almost feel like I can’t breathe myself. 😧

I was expecting the Houses of Parliament to look a little less like a stuffy basement full of old junk. *ducks*

Barclay! Definitely looking more attractive than his description in the book. And I thought I’d gotten food at understanding Scottish. I haven’t. *turns subtitles on*

Izzy is the only Chiswell offspring who doesn’t make me want to immediately vomit.

“Venetia. Like the blinds.” Oh God. 🙈

Winn is such a creep. 🤮 Poor Robin. GET AWAY FROM HER YOU LEECH!

Of course Matt doesn’t want Robin to wear the Green Dress. Twat.🙄

The house warming party. I always wonder why Robin doesn’t have friends of her own. I have a feeling Matt has something to do with that.

The earrings. So we will see Robin finding out Matt’s cheating on her! I can’t wait for her to rip him a new one! 😈

Robin calls Cormoran - and it’s not Coco but Lorelei who picks up. That’s a smart change from the book. And it makes her the rebound girl. Which she doesn’t deserve, but it is what it is.

“And she bakes.” 🥴 Is it just me wondering how Lorelei got that cake into the tin without ruining the icing?!

Flashback to The Hug™️. God, their faces are so close. Cormoran is so soft. Nnnnhhhggggg.

Enter the plaid shirt. Lumber!Cormoran is a good look on him! 😍

The Armchair of Sadness™️. Of course that’s where the devastating phone call to Robin’s house happens! The disbelief and disappointment on Cormoran’s face is heart rending. 😢💔

@lulacat3 and I have already established the continuity error with Cormoran’s facial injuries suddenly missing when he’s reached the pub. (And they should still be there; he’s still wearing the plaid shirt from that same evening.) If I were the makeup person I would have been deeply regretful of having missed dabbing fake injuries on Tom’s face again.

The Uffington Horse. Robin’s in appropriate Wellingtons, weather jacket and a beanie for their outing. Cormoran is wearing what he always wears, and Tom clearly wishes he had a beanie. At least he gets to wear a t-shirt under his eternally blue shirts this season. REVOLUTION! 😄

Sure. Let’s just go and dig for a corpse with a shovel so conveniently available! Just the two of them - one delicate Robin and one invalid. And then Robin finds the bones after ten seconds of digging. No further comment. 🙄

But I like the change with Cormoran’s leg. As stupidly heroic as he acted in the book, I like it better in the show where he has to acknowledge his handicap and Robin takes charge.

The bones. Dun-dun-DUN!

(Good first episode, although all in all the pacing wasn’t quite right yet, and compared to the book it all felt a bit rushed. I liked episode two better.)

#lethal white #cormoran strike #lw #lethal white episode 1 #cb strike #bbc strike #spoiler alert 🚨

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impossible-rat-babies · 5 years ago

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at least the apples taste sweet

shepherds of haven | 1651 words | hurt/comfort

read on ao3 here

Wind calm up on the battlements, the night just cool enough for a jacket or a cloak. Just a caress of the heat of summer still clinging before autumn truly sets in, winter not long in its chase.

Apple peel falling into Andromache’s lap, gently guiding a knife through the bruised skin. It’s quiet, the last lingering people shuttering their stalls below and chattering with their fellow merchants, others shuffling towards home or the taverns to abide by the rest a good drink or a good courtesan can provide. Men with long handled wicks light street lamps dotting the street below, casting their glare across the cobblestone and drawing moths in to batter themselves against the glass. Lights flicker in open windows, families gathering for dinner around round tables, thanking the One God for the blessed meal and one more day.

Andromache sighs, breath lost to the wind and she combs a hair from the corner of her mouth, letting it flutter behind her. Footsteps echoing on the stone and she turns, spying dark eyes flickering from the lantern light.

“What’s toward?” She asks, scooting along the crenellation, enough room for Blade to sit down beside her.

“You’re not on watch tonight.” He glances and she meets his eyes with shrug, tossing the last of the apple peel to the street below.

“It’s quiet up here.” She carves out a slice of apple and pops it in her mouth, chewing silently. It’s nice to eat fruit that isn’t sour—isn’t hard or has spots she has to carve around where worms and bugs have burrowed. “Can see most of Ashtown from up here.” She adds, squinting in the heavy dark only punctuated by the little dots of light stretching out until they meet the dusty white walls of Haven.

“You’ve never lived in a big city?” He asks and she shakes her head.

“Visited one or two. Conte-by-the-sea, Capra—never stayed long enough to know them though.” She answers, taking another bite.

“I thought to at one point—entertained the idea of leaving home when I was old enough, travel around Blest and see what there is. Maybe become a mercenary like my father out on the Sea of Plenty, Take down pirates in fearsome raids. But I,” she snickers as if she can’t help but think of the idea as utterly silly, “I even thought of becoming a famous painter or artist.”

“Impress the world over with your skills?” There’s a smile in his voice and one on her face as she replies.

“As a child thinks of such things.” She shakes her head and carefully carves out a slice and offers it to him. He takes it and she slices away another chunk, chewing slowly.

“When I was fifteen I worked as a stablehand for some rich noble in Capra. Helped the horse-master tend to the creatures the nobleman liked to collect--all manner of fancy horse or ahfuri. Had a thing for the beasts. But there was a serving girl about my age...pretty blue eyes, a fair face and rosy cheeks enough to make anyone turn envy green.” She laughs quietly, cheeks flushing.

“Did you fancy her?” Blade asks softly and the smile persists on her face.

“As young people or lovers do.” She sighs out of her nose.

“We would meet up in the hayloft above the stable late at night. We thought ourselves all clever like in those romantic books, meeting like secret lovers do. We would talk and talk for hours--meaningless things, things I barely remember. She said she liked to dance and weave, that back home her mother was an accomplished seamstress--sought after for her beautiful blankets and quilts. I...told her how I liked to draw, liked to paint. Scribbled in the dirt or in the dust on the windows I was supposed to be cleaning. A few sennights later, she gave me a gift.”

“Paints and a journal?” He asks and Andromache nods, turning the apple over in her fingers.

“I nearly threw a fit over the gift when I unwrapped it. Lamented about how she shouldn’t have gotten me something so trite, spent her hard earned coin on it.” She pauses, chewing the corner of her lip, a strand of hair once again caught there.

“She had younger siblings back home to feed, dreams of her own, to leave behind being a laundress and...I don’t know, become a famous dancer or a weaver like her mother. But, she shouldn’t have wasted her coin on me. She utterly refused to take it back, begging me to keep it, threatening me that if she found out I had sold it to give that money back to her that she would have my hide. Don’t you go selling that Anne or you’ll be worse off than if you got kicked by a horse!”

She looks back across the city, a few more lights pressing against the sky now turned from indigo to deep purple—almost black. Her shoulders fall and she’s a hundred miles away, a decade ago, still clutching that tin of watercolors and the small book of paper shoved into her hands. Hands trembling, searching those pretty blue eyes for why the hael she would give her such an unnecessary gift.

Silence fills the air, Blade’s attentive eyes still on her, waiting for her to continue--waiting for her to be ready. He’s far too nice to her and she shoves aside the cascade of emotion building in her gut.

“She told me that it was a gift, something to help make my own dream come true. She even said I could practice painting her up in that dusty old hayloft, or paint the horses. Some kak like that.” Andromache shakes her head, sadness drawing her brow in tight, lips narrowing as she carves off another chunk of apple and offers it to him.

“Funny how that little dream didn’t work out.”

Blade takes the slice and she watches him look it over for a long moment, the corners of his lips turning, wrinkling the corners of his eyes just so when he thinks.

“Where is she now?” He asks, eating the apple slice.

“I don’t know. I left for the Circle only a year after my employment began and she was still there. I thought to write to her, but...servori.” Andromache sighs. “Hopefully she’s off having someone else wash her underclothes while she makes pretty blankets and dances.”

“Are you upset? Being part of the Shepherds?” Blade asks and she drops her hands to her lap, only the last bit of the apple before the core remains, turning it over and over in her hands.

“No, I’m not upset.” She mumbles, looking over at him and he hardly seems convinced. “Not upset at being part of the Shepherds. I’m...”

She pauses, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, the choke of emotions building behind her voice, behind her eyes. There’s a familiar sting there and she quickly looks away.

“I am lonely for what could have been—longing for something I don’t even know, something or someone I cannot picture. I don’t know who she is, who she could have been--if she could’ve been a better or a worse than I am now.”

The words rush out and she sucks in a deep breath, willing the tears to stay behind her eyes, staring up at the sky overhead like it will hold all the answers. Like the gods will point her in the direction she’s supposed to find, the correct path amongst the hundreds and her feet are bloody from all the walking.

“Could have been a painter.”

Blade says softly, gently and Andromache can’t help the soft broken chuckle that she lets slip, head dropping to her chest.

“She could’ve been a painter...”

She whispers, silence passing between them like the breathless quiet between church bells, the empty space from one resounding ring to the next. The silence of a breath taken in and held, waiting to be breathed back out.

“We can only do that which we believe is best, Andromache.” Blade finally speaks, exhales into the chill of the air. “Look towards what to do next. There are hundreds of ways by which to go—we cannot grieve for each path we do not take.” He says quietly and he meets her eyes; he’s always so terribly resolute. She nods, looking away first, eyes drawn to the abandoned apple in her lap.

“Speaking from experience, Commander?” She asks and he gives her nothing more than a careful knowing look, barest hint of a smile catching the corner of his lip his answer.

It’s all the answer she needs. He pulls himself to his feet, settling his cloak back into place, smoothing aside the wrinkles.

“Make sure to get some sleep.” He tells her and it could almost be an order, save for the softness in his eyes lingering on her face, the twitch of his hand at his side.

“I will.” She nods and he looks away, turning on his heel. “Thank you, Blade.” She speaks up, smiling and he nods in return, almost silent footsteps disappearing into the dark.

She sighs against the quiet once more, eyes falling back to the apple and she turns it over in her hand, carving off the last bit of her apple and she pops it in her mouth. Standing, she tucks her knife away and tosses the core of the apple in the air once, twice, three times before chucking it over the side of the wall. It disappears into the dark, to be lost by the morning.

She stares once more out across Haven, the black of night finally blanketed across the city, cradling it safely behind it’s walls. Maybe one day she’ll paint it.

She can’t help but chuckle; she isn’t a painter, but at least the apples she eats taste sweet.

#shepherds of haven #shoh #owen writes #oc tag #oc: andromache hatche #i said it was 800 words and i lied #i had brainworms for this idea and I went for it #i don't know how to not write upsetti spaghetti stuff #okay to rebloog go wild

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woundedheartwithin · 4 years ago

Text

Tsujigiri

Ghost of Tsushima | Ryuzo | one shot

—

Author’s notes can be found on AO3!!

—

“Tell me about our quarry again.” Tadashi Matsuda says to the ronin riding to his left, slowing his horse to a walk and signaling his men to do the same.

“Getting forgetful in your old age?” Tomotsugu chuckles, reaching out to punch the Straw Hat leader’s arm. Tadashi chuckles and returns the hit, then looks back at the young ronin to his right.

“Ryuzo, would you be so kind as to remind me of our quarry?” He asks. Ryuzo grins.

“A bandit by the name of Tatsuo. Last seen to the north of Sago Mill. Has a bow and sword and is reasonably skilled with both. He leads a band of highwaymen known for butchering merchants when they try to fight back. He sometimes lets them go if they cooperate.” He answers, shifting in his saddle. “Our employers want him alive, but if that’s not possible, they will be happy enough with his head. His band is fair game.

“So who wishes to try him first?” Tadashi asks, twisting in his saddle to smirk at the retinue that follows closely behind him.

“I’d like a shot at him.” Kanetomo crows, a vicious glint in his eyes.

“They want him alive, not cut to ribbons.” Shinzo huffs, rolling his eyes.

“Ryuzo just said the bastard's head was acceptable.” Kanetomo retorts.

“Yeah, if we can’t take him alive.” Ryuzo says, laughing at the other man’s sour expression. “Restraint is not exactly a strength of yours.”

“Oh, what do you know?” Kanetomo snaps. Tadashi laughs.

“All right, that’s enough.” He says lightly. “It might be an all hands sort of job anyway, depending on how many crows circle him.

They continue along the road, chatting and laughing and enjoying the unusually warm day, and Ryuzo tilts his head back and closes his eyes, all but basking in the sunlight. Hiro and Shinzo snicker at him, teasing their friend when he glares at them half-heartedly. He breaks and laughs soon enough, unable to contain himself.

And it’s nice to finally have this. To finally belong to something, to be a part of something and to matter, to finally be more than just an outcast riding the coattails of samurai. It’s nice to have friends he doesn’t feel he needs to compete against or keep up with, and who value him because he is Ryuzo, instead of just a body to swing a bokken at. With that, his mind begins to drift to darker waters, and so he shakes his head hard to clear it. He won’t let thoughts of stupid, selfish samurai ruin such a lovely day.

“Gods, what has he done?” Tadashi says then, breathless with the beginnings of ferocious anger, and Ryuzo follows their leader’s gaze to a man standing at the crossroads ahead of them, covered in blood and surrounded by bodies.

It seems stupid, selfish samurai are determined to ruin the day regardless of what Ryuzo wants. Fucking typical.

“Hail, ronin! Care for a friendly duel?” The samurai calls to them, raising an arm and grinning broadly. The blood smeared across his cheeks and half-mask make the expression grotesque. “It seems I’ve run out of playthings. That boy I let escape must have warned the peasants in Sago that Lord Furukawa of Clan Kikuchi has a new blade he needs to test, and so traffic through this intersection has all but ceased.” He runs his offhand along the spine of the blade, admiring the blood he hasn’t bothered to clean from the edge, then looks up at them with a raised eyebrow. “But a band of ronin would be a much better challenge than filthy peasants anyway, wouldn’t it?”

“Demon.” Tadashi snarls, shifting in his saddle as he prepares to dismount.

“Wait, leader.” Ryuzo says, his own voice surprising him. “I’d like to accept his challenge, if I may.” Tadashi stills and looks at him, then smiles mirthlessly and nods.

“As you wish, Ryuzo.” He replies quietly, and Ryuzo dismounts, passing his reins to Shinzo and stepping forward. The other Straw Hats cast out into a circle around the center of the crossroads, blocking all four paths and creating a ring that is large enough to comfortably duel in.

“Rather cocky, aren’t you, ronin?” The samurai jeers, chuckling at the hissing that erupts from one side of the circle.

“Send him to hell, Ryuzo.” Yasumasa sneers, spitting on the ground in the samurai’s direction.

“How does it feel to look death in the eyes?” The samurai asks with another chuckle.

“The same as it always feels to look a dead man in the eye before he’s slain.” Ryuzo retorts, rolling his shoulders. The samurai laughs outright at that.

“Ronin are always so sure of themselves.” He says, his lip curling over his teeth in a cruel snarl. “We shall see who dies today, boy.”

“We shall.” Ryuzo replies. “But if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to make a deal with you, samurai. A friendly wager.”

“I’m listening.” The samurai smirks.

“I will be the last opponent you face today. If I win, you will die, and that will be that. But if you win, you will sheath your blade and go home satisfied that it can fell a ronin who trained at the end of a shugo blade from the time he was small.” Ryuzo says, reaching to grip the handle of his katana. The samurai’s eyes widen.

“Which shugo?” He demands. Ryuzo chuckles softly.

“Perhaps if you win, one of my companions will tell you.” He replies easily, then sinks his weight into his heels and draws his blade.

“You must not have been too impressive, then.” The samurai says, shaking himself and puffing out his chest. “Or else the shugo would have made you samurai.”

“It was not my skill that kept me from that title.” Ryuzo says darkly, gritting his teeth against the sting of those words. And that’s true. If Kazumasa Sakai hadn’t fucking died, Ryuzo has no doubt he would have been a Sakai retainer by now instead of a mangy ronin. But he’d only been 11 when the elder Sakai had been murdered, too young to formally hire, and the jito had been much less interested than his brother in-law had been in the peasant boy from Kishibe who had tripped over his nephew’s heels all across Toyotama. And Jin Sakai’s motive for leaving Ryuzo out in the cold is another story entirely, and one that still hurts too much to dwell upon.

He huffs and takes his stance, eyeing the samurai with sharp eyes and preparing himself.

“By your leave, my lord.” He growls, and the samurai laughs and sinks into a stance of his own.

“As you wish, ronin. I hope you have lived a good life.”

He slides forward on the balls of his feet then, advancing on Ryuzo and brandishing his soiled blade. Ryuzo stands his ground, watching the other man and waiting to see what he does.

The samurai lunges, swinging his sword at Ryuzo’s shoulder, and Ryuzo side steps him, dodging cleanly, grinning when the samurai turns and snarls at him. He lunges again, and again Ryuzo dodges, and again and again and again.

“Come now, I thought you were samurai!” Ryuzo laughs, ducking under a wild swing and darting in to rap his opponent’s side with the flat of his blade. The samurai yells, frustrated, and tries to engage Ryuzo again. “This is rather sad, really. I wonder how your lord would feel watching you flail about like this. And against a cocky, unimpressive ronin, no less.” Ryuzo teases, spinning away from another strike and slapping him again with the flat of his blade. The other Straw Hats jeer at the edge of the circle, laughing and heckling viciously.

“I hope you meet the peasants you slew in the afterlife.” Tadashi says above them all, chuckling darkly. “I hope they can see what a spectacle you are making of yourself right now, and they never let you forget it.”

“Shut up!” The samurai screams, charging at Ryuzo with his sword raised. Ryuzo sighs and side steps him again, tired of this dance, and pivots on his back foot, finally unleashing an attack of his own. His sword glints in the sun as it slashes through the air and finds a home in the samurai’s shoulder. The samurai cries out and drops his katana, his arm falling uselessly to his side.

“How disappointing.” Ryuzo murmurs, circling the other man as he drops to his knees.

“Please, ronin. Have mercy.” He begs, and Ryuzo feels a bolt of white hot anger flash through him. He tightens his grip on his katana and curls his lip.

“Mercy?” He says lowly. “How dare you beg me for mercy?” He turns and gestures to the bodies lying on the side of the road. “How many of them begged you for mercy?” The samurai looks at the ground and trembles. “The question was not rhetorical. Answer me.”

“All of them.” He whispers.

“All of them.” Ryuzo repeats. “And how many were granted it?”

“None.”

“None.” Ryuzo laughs humorlessly and bares his teeth. “Demon, do you think you deserve mercy?” The samurai says nothing. Ryuzo rests the point of his blade under the man’s chin and forces him to look up. “Answer. Me.”

“I beg your forgiveness. And a chance to prove I can change.” He whispers, his voice shaking and his eyes filling with tears.

“Do. You. Deserve. Mercy.” Ryuzo demands. “Yes or no.”

The samurai stares, his tears spilling over his cheeks.

“No.”

“Then die with dignity, and beg forgiveness from the poor people you killed when you get to whichever hell you belong to.” Ryuzo says, taking his sword in both hands once more and raising it.

“You won’t take me to be judged?” The samurai asks, raising his head and meeting the ronin’s gaze. Ryuzo rolls his eyes.

“I am not samurai. Why should I follow your stupid code?” He snaps, then swings his sword and liberates the samurai of his head.

“Nicely done, Ryuzo.” Tadashi says warmly as Ryuzo bends and picks up the head by its hair. “Shall we deliver your prize to Lord Kikuchi? Hold the bastard responsible for the actions of his retainer?” Ryuzo hums and holds up the samurai’s head.

“What do you think, Lord Furukawa? Shall we pay your shugo a visit?” He asks it, grinning when the other Straw Hats laugh.

They ride to Lord Kikuchi’s estate, laughing and enjoying the sunshine again, and Ryuzo almost forgets about the dripping bundle tied to his saddle. Shinzo and Hiro recount the fight to him as though he hadn’t fought it himself, telling him their favorite parts and praising him for them. Kanetomo grumbles that he should have been the one to behead the wayward samurai, and Kiyochika and Hirotsune laugh and tell him he probably would have been the one beheaded instead.

When they finally near the estate, Tadashi drops back to ride alongside Ryuzo and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Let me do the talking when we get there. Kikuchi will be pissed that you killed one of his men, and he’ll more likely listen to your superior than to you.” The old ronin says.

“Of course, leader. I understand.” Ryuzo replies, grinning. “Will I still get to throw the bastard’s head at his lord’s feet?”

“Naturally.” Tadashi laughs. “Just don’t speak unless I tell you to.”

“Yes, leader.” Ryuzo says, and Tadashi rides ahead, satisfied.

By the time they reach the gates, most of them have fallen silent, nerves getting the better of the youngest Straw Hats, and the gravity of the situation getting better of the older ronin. The only ones left speaking are the ones who don’t give a shit, like Kanetomo, and the ones who hate samurai with every fiber of their beings, like Yasumasa. Suddenly, the wet slap of the cloth-bound head against the skirt of his saddle is very loud indeed. It makes Ryuzo’s stomach turn.

They ride through the front gates of Lord Kikuchi’s estate, and Tadashi hails the shugo loudly, drawing him and his retinue from the house.

“What is the meaning of this, ronin?�� One of Kikuchi’s retainers demands, stepping in front of his lord as they stop before him.

“We have a delivery for you, my lord.” Tadashi says evenly. “And a story, if you’ll hear it.”

“Why should I, ronin?” Lord Kikuchi asks, sounding more curious than anything.

“Because it involves one of your men, and his gross misuse of the power you gave him.” Tadashi answers, his voice low and dark.

“Well? Let’s hear it, then.”

And so Tadashi tells him what they’d found at a crossroads outside of Sago Mill. He tells him about the bodies, about the samurai’s challenge, and about the resulting duel.

“And so, where is my man now?” Kikuchi asks, narrowing his eyes. “Did you take him to the jito for judgement? Or did you leave him to his sport and run here to tell me so that I can take care of it?” His retinue titters at that, murmuring rude sentiments to one another and sneering at the ronin. Tadashi snorts and grins like a shark.

“Ryuzo, show his lordship your prize.” He says, not once looking away from Lord Kikuchi.

“With pleasure, leader.” Ryuzo replies, then reaches to untie the bundle and pulls the head from it by the hair. He holds it up, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as the samurai gasp and recoil, then tosses it to the ground before them. It rolls across the dirt and comes to rest against Lord Kikuchi’s feet. “You’ll find the rest of him right where I put him down like the mad dog he was.”

Lord Kikuchi’s face turns red with rage, and he begins to splutter. “How dare you kill a samurai, you—“

“Enough!” Tadashi shouts over him. “He killed himself. He stood at a crossroads and slew dozens of innocent people for sport. He targeted peasants because he knew they couldn’t fight back. He deserved to die for his crimes. You’re only upset because a ronin dealt the justice that those poor people deserved.”

“The jito will hear of this.” Lord Kikuchi snarls, his voice shaking. “You will answer for this, boy.” Ryuzo sneers at him.

“By all means, tell the jito what I have done, and tell him why.” He snaps, wiping the samurai’s blood from his hand onto the leg of his hakama. “Be sure to tell him that it was Ryuzo of Kishibe who took the bastard’s head.”

Weeks go by and, as expected, the jito does nothing to Ryuzo. The kill was deemed justified, the samurai’s family was disgraced, and Lord Kikuchi was forced to pay restitution to the families of the victims. Then, nearly two months later, Tadashi hands him a letter he’d received from a Clan Shimura retainer who had been instructed to pass the message along to the next Straw Hat he encountered.

It is addressed to Ryuzo, from the jito himself.

He’s not sure if he wants to read it. He’s not sure if he can stomach more of Lord Shimura’s disdain. And so he simply tosses it into the fire instead, unopened and unread. The samurai could all go to hell for all he cares.

#ghost of tsushima #ryuzo #fanfiction #my writing

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