#I think Sorve takes a lot after his mother :)

[archamion]

Was doodling a design for Sorve and started thinking about pregnant Estraven :(

[feuillesmortes]

I’m about to take a social media break (I desperately need to study for grad school), but I didn’t want to do it before gifting you this update. As always, here’s a bunch of modern au headcanons stitched together in the form of fic. It’s rather long this time, but it’s worth it. Tagging my mates @queenbessofyork and @harritudur. Enjoy it!

You can read it on Ao3.

Lizzie wasn’t sure what had possessed her to accept Henry’s veiled invite for a day trip to Richmond. She only knew she had accepted it, and as a result, had spent an awfully long tube journey seated by his side, watching his Adam’s apple going up and down as he spoke pleasantries such as the day’s nice weather. Under the harsh artificial light of the carriage Lizzie noticed what a great profile he had, especially with those high cheekbones of his. Not that she hadn’t noticed it before, not really. It was rather distracting at times. Sometimes she found herself zoning out just staring at him. Embarrassing.

The day trip had a purpose: Henry was house-hunting that day and had asked Lizzie to join him, alleging he could use a woman’s opinion on the matter if she so wished to help him. Yes, house-hunting in that economy, as if Lizzie didn’t think he was minted before. Over brunch Henry had casually mentioned he had some sort of inheritance, some money left by his father that her mother intended for him to receive after his graduation. It was April, final exams were coming up, he had a job offer waiting for him at his internship company. It seemed things were looking exceedingly good for Henry so he might as well start searching for a place. Everything was great, except…

“Richmond?” Lizzie’s first reaction upon hearing his choice of borough was to repeat it back to him, like a badly trained parrot. “As in Richmond Upon Thames, zone 4?”

“Why, I thought I should give it a shot. They call it London’s happy valley for a reason, don’t you think? ” From behind his glasses, his eyes sparkled with excitement. It didn’t make Lizzie any less fidgety as she played with the rings on her fingers.

“But it’s just so… Far off.” She protested feebly. “I guess I just thought you’d pick a place near the City, or even Canary Wharf. You know, near wherever you’re going to work.”

“I don’t mind commuting, really. It’s only an eighteen-minute journey to Waterloo if a get the train. And I don’t exactly intend to spend my father’s money on a studio flat only so I could say I own property in central London.”

It was not that his arguments lacked in any sound logic. Lizzie wasn’t even sure why she was opposed to the idea in the first place. The truth is that she hadn’t dared to spend much time thinking of how things would turn out after her flatmates graduated. She knew that Rodrigo wanted to apply for a masters in international relations, so he would hopefully stay in the UK for longer. But after all that time, for some obtuse reason, she hadn’t entertained the thought that Henry could possibly choose to live far from her. Hell, he might even go back to Wales or France for all she knew. Choosing Richmond was an actual improvement when she thought of all the possible scenarios. Still, it bothered her that she could get so worked up for such a small thing as Henry’s choice of borough.

In the gentle rocking of the tube carriage, Lizzie let her mind wander as the stations passed by. Earlier at brunch the former flatmates had gone down to the pub to celebrate the end of the semester. There were still all the exams to do and a month of revision to go, but the end of lectures and a bank holiday were more than enough reason to celebrate. Lizzie and Henry had managed to convince Rodrigo to finally have his first full English breakfast, something he had resisted so far. “Your cuisine is too bland for me” was something Rodrigo used to say more often than not. And truthfully, what was a black pudding compared to a morcilla? With each bite Rodrigo did the most peculiar of faces, ranging from pleasure to disgust to… odd amusement, it seemed. Neither Lizzie nor Henry felt particularly hungry that time, so they decided to share a large order instead. Henry laid special claim to the portobello mushrooms; Lizzie got hold of the beans on toast their Spanish mate had so scornfully looked down on. Eating from the same plate, they could almost make a pretty picture.

A pretty picture. What was it that her mum said about them on the day of her hearing? “Don’t you look pretty together, the pair of you?” Ms Beaufort had gone along for the occasion and had agreed with the statement, much to Lizzie’s chagrin. Before leaving, her mother took her aside to whisper “Really, you’re sleeping on this one, Lizzie!” But instead of taking an encouraging turn, her mother’s words only soured her disposition towards the idea. What did her mum see in Henry anyway? Money? The prospect of a brilliant career much like her father’s once had been? For someone who had been accused of a gold digger her whole married life, one would think she’d have a different approach other than pushing her daughter to the first white knight that came along. Had it been five hundred years ago, Lizzie would be happy to oblige to her mother’s idea without thinking twice. As a 21st century woman, though, her mother’s insistence did not sit well with her.

It didn’t help that the estate agent also thought them a couple during the house tour in Richmond Green. “We say it’s a two-bedroom house, but you can easily turn the spare room into a third bedroom in case of guests or extra children. Have you got kids already?” Lizzie and Henry’s reaction was to simply exchange an awkward, panicking look. The agent must have confused one of her rings, or something. Lizzie decided to go for a tight-lipped smile and a simple answer. “Not yet.” She assured Henry all was well with a look. It certainly wasn’t the first time something like that happened. Still, the petite woman went on and on about how Richmond was an idyllic place to raise kids, how the Green was full with cricketers in the summer, how the valley was full of canoe clubs paddling on the Thames. “We also have excellent schools just around the corner.” She painted the location with an almost countryside atmosphere, an earthly paradise.

At the end, the house tour narrowed down to a variety of technical details. Henry made relevant questions regarding electricity, security, maintenance charges and council taxing. Lizzie didn’t hear a word of it — she had her mind very far away from it all. She wandered to the back door leading to the garden entrance where a gentle breeze was blowing, bringing the fresh smell of the woods. Spring weather had always been particularly crazy in London, going from sunny skies to hailstorms in the short space of minutes. Not that day, though. Lizzie sorved the air, the memories of the warm days of her childhood flashing behind her closed eyelids. When she was little, Lizzie and her siblings had enjoyed many sunlit days in Richmond with their father.

Right now, in that landscaped garden where busy bumblebees went about their work, she could picture a couple of kids running around the bushes, chasing a dog or two. In her dreams she always saw a little boy who looked just like her father. She could plant white roses in those flower beds, she thought suddenly. Even some red roses — they deserved their place in the garden too. Lizzie could share many lazy afternoons there with a loved someone by her side.

“Lizzie.” A hand touched her between her shoulder blades, making her jump. “I was calling for you. It’s time to go.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t hear you.” She turned around to face him and his warm hand slowly fell from her back. She almost regretted doing so instead of just… Leaning into the touch.

“Someone is zoning out much, I see?”

His eyes were positively quirky and blue, and a timid smile grew on her face, mirroring his own. “Maybe.”

God, she felt her cheeks burning. She hoped it wasn’t so blatant that only seconds ago she was daydreaming about the house. His future house, if anything else. Something Lizzie knew she had no right to at all.

But Henry seemed oblivious enough. “Come now. We should say goodbye to the agent.”

They left Sheen Road and took the path back to the station. Richmond Green was very close to the town centre, making it a great location next to the array of shops and high-end restaurants. That Sunday the streets were crowded with day trippers and costumers busy about their errands. It suits him, Lizzie thought almost bitterly. Richmond had a posh air to it, but it was not anywhere near as conceited as Kensigton or Chelsea. She could definitely picture Henry moving there. Lizzie sensed a sickening scent of early nostalgia in the air, or maybe it was just the sweetness coming from the hundreds of daffodils that lined up the streets that time of the year.

She took a deep breath and worked up the nerve to put an end to her misery. With a detached voice, she asked Henry whether or not he was going to buy the house. “Not for now, at least.” He said, after a few seconds of silence. “I’ve still got a lot to research before I can make an important decision like that. But I certainly liked the neighbourhood.“ He smiled. “I can see myself living here. I’ll be adding it to my 5-year plan.”

Lizzie felt something akin to relief washing over her, but she disguised her smile by taking a mocking tone. “You’ve got a 5-year plan? Really?” She purposely raised her eyebrows. In fact, she wasn’t even surprised. It was such a Henry thing to have a long plan.

He raised his chin, taking a prideful stance. “Like every responsible adult, yes. I do, missy.”

“I wish I were more… like you. You know, disciplined or— I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I mean, look at you! You’ve got a job already!”

“I have a job offer, which is not at all the same thing. And just because I have one it doesn’t mean it’s my dream job. It doesn’t mean it’s what I would like to do for my whole life.” He paused and turned a curious gaze to her. “What do you want to do after you graduate?”

“I’ve thought…” She felt shrieking under his gaze, so she decided to look at random people on the street instead. “I’ve thought about working in education. It was not what I first had in mind, but it sort of feels right at the moment. It’s just an option, though. Nothing’s certain.”

Lizzie had always been told she was good with children. Perhaps she had acquired some skill looking after her young sisters Anne, Catherine and little Bridget. Even Cecily, who was just a few years younger than herself. She had always felt like the responsible big sister when it came to her, much to Cecily’s annoyance.

Lizzie turned her eyes back to Henry and he was listening with a very attentive expression. She held her breath to hear his opinion, but Henry simply blinked at her. “Lizzie, there are only two certain things in this life: death and taxes.”

Her shoulders shook with a soft chuckle, and she felt like relaxing again. Henry went on. “You know what you want to do. It sounds like a plan to me.”

“Blimey, no! It’s not a plan per se.” She laughed at the absurdity of that sentence. “I don’t have my shit together like you.”

“You think I’ve got my shit together, do you?”

“Well, you certainly look like you do!”

Henry winked at her. “Lizzie, it’s all about looking the part. Never let them see your weaknesses. That’s what my uncle always said to me.”

“Them who, though?”

He made a vague gesture with his hands. “Competition.”

Lizzie let out a delighted laugh, her steps bringing her closer to him. It was at that moment that she realised she didn’t feel like going home so soon. She asked him whether he had anything to do later that day. She tensed, hoping he wouldn’t take it the wrong way. But Henry only eyed her curiously. “Nothing much. You?” Good. It was so very rare for him to have spare time. They always had to drag him along to social events. So Lizzie proceeded to convince him to go to Richmond Park to watch the deer. “It’s like hunting… minus the animal-killing part and the gore, of course.” It was a favourite pastime of hers during her childhood. Telling Henry it was obligatory to go there on his first visit to Richmond seemed to close the deal.

They found a rental shop to hire a pair of bikes and finally, after some delay and some grub, off they made their way to Richmond Park. The cycle paths took them across fresh fields, under trees full of bare branches giving birth to green leaflets. All around them, life was growing back with a vengeance. It was not hard to find the deer — fallow bucks and does in particular were not shy of human presence. They got off from their bikes to approach the animals, but they couldn’t get to the deer. Many people trying to take pictures blocked their way, crowded as the park was on a Sunday. So Henry and Lizzie kept walking, taking their bikes along the grassy fields to find animals elsewhere. They stopped at a hill with a view to London, named after some king of yore. The exercise seemed to have a good effect on Henry. Lizzie had never seen him looking so peaceful.

“Richmond does good to you.” She remarked, making him turn his eyes to her. “Should I start calling you Monsieur le Comte de Richmond from now on?”

Henry gave her a wolfish smile. “Lizzie, please. Your grace will do.”

“Your grace?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you now? A duke, a king?”

“King of England, of course.”

Lizzie wrinkled her nose at him. “I don’t think old Queen Liz is going to be much pleased to hear it. Nor her son, or her grandson, or her great-grandson for that matter. What if they call you usurper?”

“Nah, I wouldn’t worry about it. I’ll have a great PR team for that.”

“Well, if you’re going to be king I’ll be queen as well. You can start calling me…” She made a dramatic pause and curtsied with a graceful motion. “Madame la Reine de France!”

Except Henry didn’t find it funny. His face turned serious and he immediately turned from her. “I’m not calling you queen of France.” He began walking again, tugging his bike along. Lizzie hurried after him and laid a hand on the handlebar to make him stop.

“Why not?”

Her eyes challenged him, dared him to tell his reason. Henry only frowned and averted her gaze. As he hesitated still, Lizzie repeated her question. Eventually he let out a sigh and looked at her again. “For one, the French will never accept it. In case you didn’t know, they’re not exactly pro-monarchy.”

“Of course not! But hypothetically speaking, I don’t see any other kingdom to suit me. Do you?”

“I could…” He looked down, sliding a foot on the grass. “I could share England with you… If you wanted.”

“You? Sharing the rule? I’m not familiar with the concept.” She took a teasing tone to dissipate the awkwardness. “We both know you won’t be sharing anything, so stop lying.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I probably won’t.” He looked back at her and smiled again. Not a completely kind smile. “But you wouldn’t mind it, would you? Leaving the boring stuff to me, and you get the charities and the galas. Come on, you’d love it.”

Lizzie gaped at him. The nerve he had for speaking such! Even if he thought so, even if it was true, he had no right to say it aloud. “You’re an insufferable git sometimes, did you know that?”

His eyes shone with a harsh light, mischievous. “Yes, I can be a bit of an arse. But you like me like that, so what’s your point?”

“You— you bastard! I absolutely don’t—”

Henry began laughing so hard he was seized by a coughing fit. His coughing only increased, making him bend over and almost fold himself in two. Lizzie clutched his arm to shake him, forgetting that only a minute ago she was glaring at him.

“Henry! Henry, what is it?”

“What?” He managed to say between coughs.

“You’re coughing.” A rather matter-of-fact statement, but it was not the first time she had seen him suffer a fit lately. “Henry, have you been smoking again?”

He cleared his throat as his coughing bout subdued. “No, Lizzie. I told you I’ve quit.” In a hushed and quicker voice, though, he added. “I only have one or two fags on occasion.”

“WHAT?”

“Jesus Christ, Lizzie! It’s nothing. It’s probably hayfever.”

“I’m not joking, Henry! You’ve got to see your GP. Did you know that young people can have lung cancer too?” The thought terrified her. Her father had died from a condition in the liver after a lifetime of bad drinking habits. Henry wasn’t anywhere near as stout as her father had been. Lizzie doubted his health could be as enduring.

Henry still looked perplexed at her, like he didn’t understand her concern. She squeezed his arm harder. “Promise me you’ll see your GP.”

He looked at a point over her shoulder. “What’s that?”

She turned around to see a white-spotted fawn grazing some feet away. Lizzie immediately landed her bike on the grass and tried to approach the calf as silently and as carefully as her feet took her. She beckoned Henry forward, but he lingered behind. “Lizzie, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“It’s a miracle baby, Henry! They’re usually not born till late spring. We have to see it.” Henry let out a resigned sigh but followed her anyways, he too taking careful steps to approach the calf. Lizzie couldn’t believe she was about to pet a fawn. Her heart ringed loudly in her ears, she could taste excitement at the tip of her tongue. It was then that she saw it, the mother. This was no fallow deer. It was a large red hind, menacing and monstrous, vapour coming out of its nostrils. It scraped the hooves on the ground, ready to charge.

Lizzie took Henry’s hand, her voice hollow. “We have to go back. Now.”

“What about the bikes?”

The hind let out a long guttural growl. “Forget them! Just run! Run, you fool!”

She yanked him along and sprinted as fast as she could. She didn’t look back to see if the mother was following, but she could hear it galloping behind them. At her side Henry muttered a litany of fucks as they ran. They raced for a few meters before they made a turn at a thick patch of trees and hid behind a trunk, shoulder to shoulder. They were both breathless and disarranged, panting. Lizzie’s hair was all over her face; Henry’s glasses were slipping off the bridge of his nose. Her hand, the one holding his fingers, was sticky with sweat. He let go of that hand. “Shit, Lizzie! We’re never doing this again! The things I do for you, I swear—”

“Shhh! It could hear us.”

Lizzie had never seen Henry so distraught. He tried to put his hair strands in order with a nervous hand, but it clearly wasn’t working. He gave up with a low grunt. “This shit is serious, Lizzie! We could have died, we could have been trampled, gored to death—”

“Shhh!” She repeated, more forcefully this time. To begin with, the hind didn’t even have antlers. But yes, there could be a stag nearby waiting to attack.

Lizzie scooted a bit to the side and stuck her prying head out to look for the red hind. Just like magic, it was nowhere near sight. She turned back to Henry and met his expecting gaze. “It’s gone.” The sentence hung in the air, both of them not quite believing it. They stood frozen for a couple of seconds, staring at each other, chests heaving. They both broke into a grin then. Relief flooded over them and they shared a loud laugh like giddy idiots. She meant to move and hug him — she was half-way into his arms when he dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers in a quick kiss. She fell a step back and disentangled from his embrace.

“That was unexpected!”

Henry yanked the glasses off his face. “Would you please shut up every time I try to kiss you?”

What? She meant to ask him, but he drew her to him again and covered her mouth with his. Surprisingly enough, she found herself pressing closer to him. He seized her by the waist, straightening her in his arms, and she circled her own around his shoulders. He smelled like the sharp scent of the woods mixed with his French cologne. The stubble on his jaw tickled her, not unpleasantly, and she made a low hum on the back of her throat when he sucked on her bottom lip. His glasses slid off his hand and hit the ground behind her with a soft thud as he cupped her cheek, deepening the kiss. As much as Lizzie didn’t want to admit it, Henry knew what he was doing. He slid his tongue inside her mouth for a proper snog, and she lost track of time. She could only think of the weight of his hand on the small of her back, the movements of his mouth on hers. He ended the kiss by gently cradling her head, placing a peck on her lips.

They parted, but a light buzz ringed inside her head as she tried to process what had just happened. Henry, on the contrary, looked perfectly untroubled with a smirk on his face. He bent down to pick up his glasses and calmly wiped them on his shirt, unfazed. “I should’ve done it sooner.” Try as she might, Lizzie couldn’t find the words to contradict him.

A cold swirling wind swept on them. The light fell across the land in purple and orange hues. Night was fast approaching.

“Come, Lizzie.” He took her by the hand. “Let’s go home.”