#I think that in the few weeks after nightmare was made king. After he banished dream.

[ancha-aus]

Gifted Drabble - NewAgeAU - The Eclipse

I am back again and I got a big boy drabble for you today @spotaus

After the amazing drabble they did about Nightmare losing the magic. I decided it was about time I tried my hands at the event that brought forth the magic!

Also we are back to Ccino POV. I don't know what it is about him in this series I just love him dearly and adore his POV. Once we move more into the story I will probably do other people's POVs haha.

Warnings! We are in for a rough time because Ccino never has it easy and that is like 90% my fault. There is past abuse, past starvation, victim blaming (kinda), there is gaslighting, there is manipulation. Implied future abuse.

There is a lot and I need you to be aware of this.

Also... It... may be a bit long? As in 10K words long. So... just so you know it is long. With that out of the way! Lets Go!

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Ccino isn’t sure what to feel. He knows he should be proud and feel excited. Today was the twin’s birthdays. They were finally turning thirteen. Something everyone in the kingdom has been excited for for the last few years as this day grow closer.

Ccino sighs as he feels his body shake. Even as he makes sure that Nightmare’s outfit is spotless. It is a beautiful light yellow. It will fit in perfectly amongst the golden and yellow decorations but Ccino can only assume it is on purpose. To show Nightmare’s rank and position as prince as Dream ascends. To see they belong together and are connected by their bond as twins.

Nightmare frows as he tugs on his shelves. Ccino gently takes his hand and removes it from the soft fabric “Hey. It is okay my prince.” He puts the sleeves back in place and is happy to note there are no ruffles.

Nightmare frowns as he turns his skull away. Ccino frowns as he makes sure the outfit is perfect.

Nightmare mutters “Still think they are stupid for making you wear pink…”

Ccino blinks and looks down at his undershirt. It is a very soft light pink and there are yellow accents. He smiles as he twists his skull a bit to enable himself to look better at Nightmare “Really? Why is that my prince?”

Nightmare shrugs and mutters “Pink doesn’t suit you… beige is better.”

Ccino smiles “I do love the neutral and nature colours… But your brother was allowed to pick everything for his big day.” And it was only fitting that the new king’s gift was exactly as he wanted-

Ccino shakes his skull. He needs to stop thinking about it like that. He isn’t the one who matters here.

Nightmare is anxious. Nightmare’s twin is about to be crowned and become king. Complete this mysterious ritual. Ccino had to be there for him. Nightmare had found information and mentions about this great sacrifice and pain. Something that Dream had to do or experience to ascend to godhood.

Nightmare had come to him near tears. Terrified his brother would be hurt by this ritual that was going to happen no matter what. Nightmare had said he had tried to warn Dream but Dream just told him he was nervous and that everything would be okay. That Dream would become a god like their mother and Dream would rule their kingdom.

Nightmare had spoken about how he had gone to his mother with his worries but Nim just dismissed him. That Nim had just told him he was seeing things wrong again and that he was letting silly ideas get the better of him again.

Ccino isn’t surprised she was like that. Nim is just like that. A terrible and horrible-

Ccino stops himself. He can never be sure what she knows and what she doesn’t.

Instead, even back when Nightmare came to him, he concentrated on helping Nightmare. Helping him calm down before looking at what he had found.

Ccino wasn’t even sure what it was but he knew… he knew that Nightmare was correct. This magic, this ritual it is dangerous.

But there is nothing Ccino could do to help him. Ccino doesn’t know magic. He can’t even do magic. He knows nothing about magic or what it all means. He was only able to hold Nightmare close until he fell asleep for the night. Ccino letting him sleep in his room with him to help him feel safe.

Ccino doesn’t know magic…

But Ccino remembers… He thinks he remembers at least… He believes that his mother used to sing… That she could do magical things with music. Ccino thinks their little house used to be filled with music.

His father had these... magical kisses? Ccino thinks so at least… That his father could give kisses when you were hurt or sad and everything felt better… Something about his magic only working because of Ccino and his mom…

Ccino thinks so at least…

He can’t really remember what his father looked like…

He just knows he is supposed to look like his mom… but he isn’t sure as he can’t remember her well either… It has been so long

Nightmare shifts before him and Ccino pulls himself out of his mindless thinking. Ccino turns Nightmare around and hums “The yellow looks nice on you…”

Nightmare pulls on his shirt anxiously “You think so? I think it looks weird… yellow fits Dream. Not me.”

Ccino smiles as he knows how to handle this easily “Really? I think it looks nice.” he gently takes Nightmare’s hands as Ccino ignores the scars on those small bones from his practise cuts “Yellow compliments purple after all. Makes your eye lights stand out more.”

Nightmare looks deeply embarrassed but has a shy smile “Really?”

Ccino smiles “Have I ever lied to you?”

Nightmare shakes his skull and looks a bit more relaxed as he looks back into the mirror. Ccino looks him over and smiles. Nightmare, and Dream, has grown into a fine young teen.

Ccino can’t help but be proud of both the twins. Ccino has always been closer to Nightmare as Dream had many others who seemed to want to answer his every request. Which meant that Ccino just focused on Nightmare when he could. Make sure the younger twin didn’t feel left behind.

Ccino is proud to say that he managed it. Nightmare is happy and never mentioned feeling alone. He mentioned missing his twin when he went to his classes but aside from that Nightmare was happy and healthy. Dream was too.

The twins adore each other and are the closest friends. Both are happy and healthy.

All in all. Ccino thinks he has been doing a great job with helping and raising them.

Ccino hums as he moves to Nightmare’s front and starts putting up the little golden and sun jewellery. Careful all in the right spots. Decorating his thin neck and the fragile wrists.

Last Ccino picks up the small silver crown and places it on Nightmare’s skull “Almost done my prince.”

Nightmare stares at him “We are alone.” And he waits.

Ccino blinks and smiles softly “My prince-” Nightmare frowns more. Ccino sighs but can’t stop smiling “Nightmare. You know I have to address you properly.” He can’t stop himself as he rubs the smaller skull and Nightmare leans into it happily “I am just a servant. People can’t see me disrespecting you like that.”

Nightmare frowns again “I don’t care.” And he glares more “and you are not just a servant. You are you.”

Ccino smiles and nuzzles him softly “I know you don’t care Nightmare. And I would like to not care either. But… it isn’t right or how it works…” he gives him a sad smile.

Nightmare frowns and mutters “Maybe… When Dream is king he can change that?” he looks a bit more hopeful.

Anxiety returns to his soul. Ccino doesn’t want to be important and known… He forces it back down as he gives a gentle smile “As king he won’t get the chance to do such things until much later Nightmare. He can’t risk being seen as weak or someone who is easy to disrespect. Once things calm down we can maybe ask him. Okay?” much later.

Nightmare frowns and mutters “Who would disrespect him? He would be a king and a god!” and he looks at Ccino.

Ccino feels bad. Seeing as he doesn’t respect Nim at all. And Nim is like that. Ccino instead gives him a tiny grin “Some people will just be like that. Even if they don’t have a good reason. And no matter how much you want them to you can’t change their minds.” He rubs his cheek “Which means you can only focus on what matters to you and the country.”

Nightmare frowns before nodding “I can do that for him. Help him.” He rubs his arm and whispers “Do… do you think the… the bad thing will happen?”

Ccino frowns “I am not sure Nightmare. I am so sorry…” he can’t help him when it matters… Ccino wasn’t even sure why he thought he could help either of them in a way that matters.

Nightmare leans into his touch and mutters “At least you believe me.”

Ccino feels a bit better as he speaks softly “And I always will. Even if no one else believes you. I will. I will be there for you. I swear.” It is an easy promise to make to him.

Nightmare actually smiles this time.

Ccino relaxes as he slowly gets the paint and make up out “Ready for the last finishing touches?”

Nightmare nods and takes a seat. Ccino gets the paint and gets to work. Ccino had to do these very early on for both the twins. Dream would want to get up and move around while Nightmare would patiently wait for Ccino to finish and for the make up to dry. Ccino never minded it of course. It was fun! It reminded him of finger painting and practising make up with his mom. It are dear memories.

Ccino starts with a bit of paint by Nightmare’s cheeks and his chin. To make sure the edges look softer and a bit rounder. Next he adds a very small line of golden yellow around the very edge of his sockets. Ccino hadn’t been lying after all, yellow did help make purple stand out more and with this is made the purple pop. Ccino then took the silver and with the utmost care he painted the phases of the moon from one temple to the other across the forehead. Making sure the full moon was at the very center. Ccino didn’t even need to redo it today.

Ccino smiles as he takes a step back “All ready.” He washes the paint and make up from his phalanges.

Nightmare hops off his chair and looks into the mirror “Will you have to also do Dream’s paints?”

Ccino shakes his skull “Not today. I believe the king is helping your twin prepare.” He finishes cleaning himself up and puts everything back to its spot.

Nightmare nods as he looks into the mirror anxiously “It is okay… it is fine… Dream will be fine…” he tugs on his shirt again.

Ccino joins his side and frees the shirt from the tight hold. After it he tugs it all back in place before stepping back “There. You are ready my prince.” And he gives a small bow “Very soon. Crown prince.”

Nightmare rubs his arm. Luckily the material the shirt is made of doesn’t crumble easily and it remains looking nice and puffy. Ccino needs to make sure Nightmare looks fine and no one can say anything rude to Nightmare about it.

Ccino joins his side and smiles “Hey… Nighty?” Nightmare immediately looks at him. Ccino keeps smiling. Praying it helps relax him “You are going to do amazing. You will look stunning together with your twin and you two have bright futures ahead of you.”

Nightmare gives a very slow nod before he mutters “Will you be nearby? I know it is private and only for the inner circle until the real crowning but… Will you please be near?”

Ccino smiles “Yeah. I will be close by.” For completely different reasons…

Nightmare relaxes and smiles brightly “Thank you… I need you there to feel brave.”

Ccino feels like his soul is gripped as he gives him a gentle hug. Making sure not to mess up Nightmare’s outfit or make up “You don’t need me for that Nightmare. You are the bravest monster I know. But I will be there okay? You will see me right there okay? And if you start feeling scared or unsure you can look at me and know that there will always be people who believe in you and are there for you. Okay?” He rubs the cheek.

Nightmare pushes his face more into it and lets out a soft purr “Thank you.”

Ccino smiles “I am happy to be there for you. Both of you.” He hears footsteps in the distance and quickly takes his hand back as he steps back. Nightmare looks confused for a moment before the door behind him opens.

Ccino bows to the captain entering “Captain.”

The captain, a bird monster by the name of Falks, dismisses him but that is alright. Ccino doesn’t mind at all. He knows that most of the higher ups kind of know the deal that is about to happen.

Captain Falks bows to Nightmare “Hello my prince. I am here to lead you to the king and the future king.”

Nightmare nods before looking back at Ccino “See you soon Ccino.” And he follows the captain out.

Ccino makes sure to remain in his spot until the door closes. When it closes he feels all the tension return as the need to hide in one of the tunnels returns. He doesn’t want to go there.

He doesn’t want to be at the ritual.

Because… That will be the moment that he…

That his…

He is right now the king’s after all. Nim just only had use for him as babysitter and servant. Ccino knows… he knows what the little apple patterns on his clothes mean after all.

Ccino feels his breath quicken as he grabs a hold on the vanity and gasps as his breath gets shorter and shorter. He stares at himself for a moment before looking away. He can’t stand the sight of himself. Seeing himself hurts… Seeing himself brings back memories he can’t quite remember and pain and fear from long ago. He can’t deal with that. He can’t.

Ccino gasps as he takes a seat on the ground and curls up more. This is it… today… he will be… he won’t…

He… he is never going to see Nightmare ever again? Is he?

He doesn’t know what the ritual does. Not exactly.

But Nim had pulled him aside and given him an idea. How it changes the person. How it increases their power and that with it came the knowledge that they were more important than any mortals. That their power and their ability to hold and manage that power is the proof.

That once Dream gets the power he will finally get the power he deserves. He will have the power and knowledge that will make him the god among people.

That Ccino will be there for him in any way he wishes. For anything he wants.

Any. Thing.

Ccino feels gross just thinking about it.

Footsteps in the hallway and Ccino has to pull himself together. He forces himself back to his feet even if his whole body shakes. Even if he can’t stand the sight of everything around him.

He just manages to pull his face into a more neutral look and slow his panicked breathing when the door opens. Some guards stand ready and mutter about bringing Ccino to the room to prepare him for the ritual.

Ccino follows the guards. His soul pulsing fast enough that Ccino is starting to feal dizzy. He keeps his breaths short as he follows the familiar path.

They end by the healing bay and he is left by the door. The door opens and two medics are there already. They rush Ccino in and comment about him being later than expected. Ccino apologises as he stands in the room.

He hears the two healers talk as he stares ahead of himself. Trying so hard not to hear. He doesn’t want to hear it.

Ccino stares ahead of himself. The other wall has shelves which hold a lot of different items and potions. Ccino knows that some of those are against exhaustion and to give more energy. There are health boosters and even a few that will just knock you out. All different colours.

The scents are making his already dizzy skull spin and pound. He may be starting to get migraine.

The doctor snaps “Ccino!”

Ccino blinks and turns slightly “Yes sir?”

The doctor, Nigel, looks annoyed while the other healer, Mar, giggles “Don’t be mad at him. Can you blame him? He will be the future King’s first mate.” They sigh wishfully “I am so jealous… I wish I could be the one who helped Dream like that.”

They disgust Ccino. Ccino doesn’t care that technically Dream is about to magically become an adult. He is a child! One who barely started puberty! How could they think about him like that? Like they are just waiting for him to grow up so they can… so they can think and do those things to him?!

Doctor Nigel sighs annoyed as he stares at Ccino “When did you last eat and what?”

Ccino needs to think. He hadn’t eaten that morning… He hasn’t had dinners in ages much like lunches. His last breakfast was… “Day before yesterday.” If he is correct.

The doctor looks annoyed “Seriously? You pigging out again? You know that you need to look your best.” He sighs as he shakes his head.

Ccino just looks down. He just had been so hungry. He had felt so empty and tired. He had thought… Maybe a little wouldn’t be bad? Just to get a bit of energy.

Nigel looks at him expecting “What did you eat?”

Ccino looks to the side. Feeling guilty “Had some toast… and some yogurt and milk.” It had been so good. He had felt full after it and sighed happily.

The doctor huffs “Pigging. Out.”

The other giggles “Oh let him pig out. Maybe then King Dream will see that he is not that much anyway. Let someone who is actually pretty get a chance to please our new lord.” They sigh wishfully again.

Nigel shoots his colleague a look “Stop it. You can try to get in his harem once he is established.” He turns back to side as he grabs a step stool “The first mate always dies quickly anyone. They are there for the king to test their power and magic after all. Rather painful from what I understand.” He points towards the step stool “Undress and on the step stool.”

Ccino feels sick and feels his soul pulse anxiously but his body does as ordered. He feels beyond exposed as he stands there. Staring downwards as the two doctors circle him and comment on things. He can hardly hear it. His skull hurts.

Doctor Nigel hums “Luckily none of the lashes gave permanent marks after all. It would be unsightly for our future king to see marks of disobedience.” He makes a note as he moves on and checks his ribs and spine. Touching it and Ccino tries to ignore how invasive it feels. “Age?”

Ccino needs a moment to think “Twenty.”

He hums and makes a note “That should fertile then. Good. Summon your ecto.”

Ccino really doesn’t want to. His soul is filled with anxiety but he tries.

Nothing happens.

The doctor looks annoyed “I said. Summon the ecto.”

Ccino doesn’t look up “I can’t… I don’t have enough energy or magic.” Maybe he can’t summon it at all anymore. Maybe it is broken? Would that mean he doesn’t have to worry about this whole thing anymore? If he is unable to summon the parts needed… If he is too broken to serve his purpose…

The doctor grumbles as he walks to the cabinet and searches through the bottles before pulling one out “Here. Drink it.”

Ccino looks at the bright orange liquid and feels sick just looking at it. It smells gross. It looks disgusting. It is much too solid to be a normal drink.

Mar laughs as they smirk at him “What is wrong? Suddenly not a glutton anymore?”

Ccino doesn’t want to… But he remembers the pain of the lashes. The way each one burned. They way they would wait between the hits. Until his back was fully healed before giving the next one. Healing it magically, fast and aggressive which left his back tender and hurting of pains that weren’t there anymore. Then the next lash would hit.

He still feels the pain sometimes. Which is dumb. Ccino knows he isn’t hurt anymore. It got healed years ago and it doesn’t hurt. There is nothing there that could hurt. Everyone told him as much. To stop acting as if he is hurt when he was fine.

Ccino downs the potion as ordered. It is gross and sticks to his throat and it feels unpleasant. The unknown and different magic in the potion makes him sick but he stands there.

Nigel nods “Now. That should give you enough magic and mana to at least last through the night for our new King. Now summon so I can inspect your ecto.”

Ccino feels sick but does as ordered. He focusses on his soul. Even if the pulsing of it is uneven and anxious it is better than to think about the hands touching his ecto. Hands he doesn’t want to touch him anywhere.

He stares ahead. Staring at the different coloured bottles. Two are purple. One is blue. There is a green one on the side. Most of them don’t have a colour and three are yellow. All on different shelves. None of them have labels.

Doctor Nigel steps back as he takes notes “Seems fine and stable enough. A bit too round but that is too be expected from your gluttonous nature.” The doctor makes notes.

The other giggles “Best hope the king likes them heavier.” And Mar giggle again.

Ccino hates it here.

The doctor shoots his colleague a look “Behave. It will not look good for you if the first mate doesn’t like your behaviour.” And he shoots Ccino a look “You can get dressed again. Others will come pick you up soon to get ready.” And he turns to his desk. The other doctor huffs and shoots Ccino a jealous look.

Ccino would willingly and gladly trade places. Do it. Take his place. He doesn’t want to be some offering to placate a newly ascended god. Ccino knows what everyone implies he will do to do that. He feels sick.

Either way he gets dressed in the much too soft cotton with the almost silky feel to it. It is soft as he tugs on it. His soul feels like it has permanently moved to his throat. He still feels dizzy, the other magic in his body makes him feel sick.

Everything about this makes him ill. He wants to hide. Just not go. Fuck it. Stay in the hidden tunnels and just keep hiding there until they give up on searching for him. No one ever found him in those tunnels anyway.

The image of Nightmare looking hopefully into the crowd when he feels nervous. Ccino not being there.

He can’t… He can’t break his promise to Nightmare.

The door opens and a few maids walk in. They all seem excited and happily tug Ccino with them. They talk about how lucky he is and how he doesn’t need to worry! That people will make sure he looks pretty and then the new King will not be able to keep his hands to himself!

Ccino just smiles and nods. Not sure if he can keep himself from throwing up if he starts talking.

They get to the large dressing room. Normally used for making and fabricating outfits for the royals and nobles. Ccino feels his anxiety returns as the maids leave him with the seamstress Sasha. Sasha looks beyond excited as she looks at different outfits.

She hums happily “I am so excited! It is the greatest honour to have been allowed to make your outfit. I made a few options and the current king and future king already expressed their preference!” she smiles brightly as she holds up different outfits “I have a few that were approved upon and I made sure they will fit the decorations!”

Ccino nods as he lets her talk. Everywhere there are flags and banners with little suns on them. The symbol of Dream. A small sun for the golden prince. Dream had been so excited when they picked his symbol when the twins turned ten. Nightmare had been excited about his own symbol in the form of the moon.

Ccino watches as the seamstress pulls out this beautiful dress. Lower back and cuts by the lower part and legs to enable easy movement.

Sasha smiles as she holds it up “I know I know. A dress is the go to but I wanted to try just in case! Please put it on.”

Ccino takes the clothing item and gets dressed. Feeling numb to the exposed feeling by now. He waits on the verdict.

She beams “Oh you are so pretty!” she looks excited as she rushes to the other outfits she laid out “But I think the dress isn’t your fit after all. Don’t get me wrong you look gorgeous but it just doesn’t seem right! It doesn’t show off your best sides well as it is designed to look good on people with more curves.”

Ccino is never sure what people want from him. Some say he is too fat and a glutton. Others say he doesn’t have enough curves. He really tried to do as ordered and only eat and drink what he is supposed to. He doesn’t understand why his body isn’t like they want by now. He swears he tried.

He is so tired.

Sasha brings out this pants and shirt set which feels a bit more comfortable. Ccino doesn’t like how open the back is as it gives him bad memories. The only times his back was uncovered was when they… they…

The shirt itself is very tight around his neck. And shows off most of his spine. The pants themselves hang low on his hip bones. Barely staying up as it is while the pants legs are long and cover him to the ankles.

The seamstress hums as she looks considered “This shows off your skeleton nature much better than the dress did! Your spine is so clean and pretty! I am sure the king would love to be able to see it easily! I will have to make a note of that for any future outfits!” she makes a note as she grabs the next outfit.

The shirt has shoulder pads this time and covers his spine a lot better. The sides are mostly open but it isn’t as short as the other one and it only shows a bit of his lower spine.

Instead of pants this outfit has more of a skirt to it. It still hangs low on his hips but there is a very short tight pants under the skirt to keep it in place. The sides of his legs are almost completely uncovered aside from the tight pants but the skirt part gives him at least the illusion of modesty.

Sasha hums as she looks between the outfits “I think that one is best.” She smiles a t him “Feeling pretty and ready to rock the new king’s world?” she is trying to hype him up.

Ccino gives a small smile and speaks softly “Mostly nervous.” Which is the most truthful and honest thing he can safely say.

She gasps “What? You don’t need to be nervous! He is going to be so happy to see you! You are so pretty he is going to be blown away!”

Ccino doesn’t feel pretty. He just feels sick and uncomfortable. It is so close now. Before he could mostly ignore it but now it is really going to happen. He is going to be promoted from babysitter to sex slave. And there is not a single thing he can do about it. Yet Ccino is the idiot and weird one for not being excited.

He wants to cry.

He takes his seat as the seamstress talks about his make up and what she picked out. It is mostly just some touch up. She mentions that putting much more on would just make him look fake and make him lose his natural beauty.

She disappears to the corner where she opens a locked box. There are golden chains in there. Well, not actually chains but necklaces and bracelets apparently, they may as well be chains though. Ccino watches as the other puts them on him. By his arms. His ribs. One as a choker. She coos and praises how pretty he looks. Ccino doesn’t feel like he is all there anymore.

Heavy steps and moments later the door opens.

The seamstress bows deeply and Ccino looks down as well. Making a bow as far as he can without disrupting any of the work done on him.

A moment of silence before a pleased hum “Good. You got cleaned up and made yourself look presentable. Come. We are about to start.”

As they walk Nim reminds him once more of what his role will be and what he will do. Ccino echoes the instructions back to her when prompted.

He is lead into the throne room and there is a silence. Ccino feels his arm start to shake as he makes his way towards his spot. Ccino tries not to panic.

This is it. There is no turning back now.

Ccino just stands in his spot. Near enough to step forwards when it is his time. Ccino tries not to think about what will happen to him after today. What his life will be after this. Ccino glances around.

There aren’t as many people as he would expect. The only people are the king’s advisors. The captain of the guard and a few extra guards. And Ccino of course.

None of the maids or servants are actually here with them.

Ccino glances around and sees people all getting ready. A priest as well. To perform the crowning of Dream as Nim will be unavailable.

Ccino… Ccino doesn’t like this ritual or what he knows about it.

From what he understand… the king will give up her magic. Make it form something for Dream to take and consume. Consuming the magic will give him powers and magic and the ability to ascend. Then. Once it is time. Something of great emotional importance is supposed to happen. That the magic will guide Dream to do what is needed for him to finish ascending.

Once ascended. Dream will be first crowned to the small select group here and then to the kingdom as a whole.

Ccino is supposed to step forwards when Dream finishes his ritual but before he is crowned. Ccino will join his side and remain there through everything.

Ccino still doesn’t understand how it will affect Dream. All the king ever told him was that Dream would within seconds grow from teen to an adult and all the feelings, knowledge and emotions that came with it would happen all at once. That it would make Dream ready to rule. The ritual would give him the understanding for what happened and how so he can perform it himself when the time is right.

Ccino thinks it isn’t right.

But maybe that is just him. He doesn’t like the magic in this place. His memories still see magic as the voice of his mother singing and some stuff moving on their own to help her with chores. Of his father holding him close and giving a kiss to his little bruises and them feeling better. They told him magic was about joy and love.

Here… they always spoke about rituals and blood and sacrifices. Ccino had seen them sacrifice animals before.

He doesn’t like it.

He hates it.

Ccino had had to clean up cuts on Nightmare’s hands from past rituals. All in preparation. Nightmare had been near tears as it hurt. Ccino remembers telling him that it can’t be actually that good of magic if it hurts him.

Ccino isn’t sure if he was even helping at this point…

Not that it matters… He probably won’t see Nightmare much after this… As he will just… be wherever and whatever Dream wants him to be and do and-

No. Stop. Don’t think about it.

Ccino tries to distract himself.

The hall is decorated with large banners. All with pictures and images of the sun and light. Gold in colour and making the room seem lighter.

Ccino suddenly understands his outfit colour choice. It seems to mirror the colours of a sunrise.

Nim steps out of the side door and walks towards her throne, her mask on her face. She stands before it as the hall is immediately quiet. Moments later Dream and Nightmare walk out together and stand on both of her sides, both wearing their own masks.

Nightmare looks anxious and Ccino manages to catch his eye through the tiny openings of the owl mask. Nightmare seems to relax a little.

That is good.

That is much better.

The King speaks up and her voice sounds out “We are here today. For the next step in our glorious kingdom. As I will ascend to take my rightful place among the stars. As my son will take his own rightful place. A god on this world. Like myself.”

Excitement rises in the room as Nim raises her arms and hands to her chest. And It lights up.

It is scorching hot. It is burning.

The light is bright as Nim holds out the light. It slowly condenses into a single form. A glowing apple. She turns slowly. Her body already starting to fall apart as she starts to dust. Her hand holds out the glowing apple to Dream.

Dream wiggles slightly in place before raising his mask to the top of his face to reveal the big smile before looking serious again as he steps forwards. He holds out his arms and hands.

Nim stands still for a moment before she places the apple in his hands but keeps holding on.

Dream looks determined and nods “Thank you. Mother. May you rise to be above the other gods.”

Nim nods and lets go of the apple. As soon as the contact is gone. She is gone. She falls apart and her mask falls on top of the pile of dust.

The apple is a perfect golden colour. It isn’t shining anymore but it reflects the light beautifully.

Dream steps forwards and smiles “Hello everyone. For this glorious day. As the old king and my mother takes her rightful place among the stars and gods. As I stand before you to claim my own place in the growing history of our family. To make them proud and do as they hava done before me.”

Ccino notices Nightmare looks nervous as he shoots him looks. Ccino gives him a tiny smile and Nightmare seems to relax before he gains a look of focus in those eye lights.

Dream smiles as he raises his arms up high.

Which is when Nightmare rushes him and tackles his brothers. The two twins struggle for a moment before Nightmare manages to grab the apple and take a few steps away.

Dream stares from his spot on the ground in shock “Nightmare?!”

Nightmare doesn’t say anything. He is shaking lightly before Nightmare finds his eye sight again. Nightmare raises his own owl mask to the top of his skull, he takes a deep breath and bites into the apple.

Something in his body changes. Ccino can see an almost hazed look on Nightmare’s face as he bites. And bites. And bites. Eating the apple even if he seems to almost choke on the mouthfuls.

And then the apple is gone. Core and all.

Nightmare stands there for a moment before starting to lean to one side before leaning towards the other. His body shaking. He starts to shake more and more as Nightmare rolls up as he hugs his own form. Then Nightmare starts screaming and sobbing as he falls to his knees.

Ccino feels his own body shake. Ccino feels himself take a step closer.

He is hurt… He needs to…

A guard stops him.

Ccino can’t look away from Nightmare. Nightmare is just shaking and sobbing as he stays on his knees.

A cracking of bones. The ripping of clothing. And large limbs burst out of Nightmare’s back. Ccino sees them move and wriggling around dripping of Nightmare’s blood. But Ccino watches as the red colour darkens little by little until it is a solid black instead. It continues to drip on the ground as Nightmare shudders.

Then he stops. Everything stops. The screaming, the shaking, the sobbing.

Silence.

Nightmare slowly rises to his feet. The goop moving and dripping slowly off his form to drip on the ground. Nightmare looks around the room. His clothes ripped in many places as parts of it remain on the ground covered with that same sticky black goop that used to be red and liquid and his blood.

“How could you!?”

Nightmare blinks and turns to stare at Dream. Dream glares at him as he shakes with pure rage.

Dream screams “How could you?!”

Nightmare however doesn’t react. He just keeps staring at his brother. Ccino… Ccino doesn’t like the look on his face. It is the same look as with the apple… Ccino also doesn’t like the look on Dream’s face. The open rage and anger.

Dream knows magic. Nightmare does not.

Ccino doesn’t think and rushes away from his spot. The guard who had a hold on him before had let go in shock. Ccino side steps any hands as he rushes to the raised platform and thrones. He rushes up the stairs and gets between the twins. Holding hands up to both of them as he gives them both a strict look “No fighting.” He would have wanted his voice to be louder. But he can’t. Even now he can’t shout at either of them. He never could.

Dream looks away with angry tears in his eyes. Nightmare freezes as he stares at him. Ccino looks back at him.

His face isn’t the same anymore. The sockets are all wrong and the eye lights aren’t right either. Nightmare is much taller and doesn’t look in anyway like he did. The magic that he emits is even different.

But… the angle of those shoulders… Nightmare is scared and confused.

Ccino needs to get them somewhere else. He needs to get them out of view of others. They need to calm down and they need to figure out what is next. Was… Was Nightmare instructed by Nim to eat the apple after all? But… that doesn’t make sense?

No. Focus. No use trying to figure stuff out when it isn’t the priority. Get the twins to the back. Get them situated.

Ccino takes a deep breath before turning towards the waiting crowd with a smile on his face. He makes sure to tugs his hands behind the small of his back as he speaks with his cheerful people pleasing voice “We will be in the back to clean up before we continue. Please excuse our new king and the crown prince for just a moment.” And he bows deeply before shooting Dream a look and motioning towards the back.

Dream still looks angry but does as told as he moves towards the back. Ccino rises and gives a deep bow to Nightmare “My lord?” Nightmare is king now… right? so he should do this?

Nightmare looks bothered. It isn’t the same face he pulls but it is the same reaction as before. At least that look from the apple is gone. He just looks confused and overwhelmed. Nightmare moves towards the back without a single glance into anyone’s direction. Ccino uses the general confusion to rush into the room after them.

Okay. Okay.

What now?

The room is quiet as Dream continues to glare at Nightmare. Nightmare frowns at him as he raises a hand “Dream… I…” he shakes his skull as that glint in his eye lights returns before he manages to shake it.

Dream glares as he shakes “How could you! I trusted you! Everyone always said you just wanted the throne! I defended you! Said you would never betray me! Yet you do?!” angry tears appear in his sockets as he glares.

Nightmare shakes his skull again. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to. I…” He frowns. So confused.

The door slams open and Ccino notices Nightmare flinch at the sound before Ccino is grabbed and turned around. Captain Falks is there glaring “What the fuck did you do?!”

Ccino blinks as two more guards join them. Ccino looks back at Nightmare and Dream “I… I got them out of sight? Stopped them from fighting.”

Falks groans “Yes! That is the problem! You stopped the ritual!”

Ccino feels any insecurity and nerves leave him as it replaces him with rage “Of course I did?! In case you didn’t notice! It went terrible! Of course I got them out of sight and calm before they could hurt each other!”

Captain Falks glares “The leftover prince was never supposed to take the apple! This is a disaster! He was supposed to just be there for the future King of Light Dream!” Falks glares at the twins before glaring at Ccino again “This is a mess and you made it worse.”

Ccino flinches as he looks to the side “What is done is done… We need to be quick…” he glances back and can’t help but notice that Nightmare is very much barely dressed at this point as he ripped out of his clothing and Dream is overdressed with the too large clothing. Swimming in the bright orange cape and the softer coloured dress pants and shirt. Ccino nods to himself “We will need to get them both ready quickly. A new outfit for King Nightmare is a must. He can’t be crowned when he is barely dressed. Dream will need cloths that are form fitted for him now instead of how he could have been.” His mind is racing as he looks over to the two guards behind Falks.

It are cadet Rogers and Cadet Miles. Okay. Ccino has seen them before and they are both ambitious but are loyal to the crown. Ccino looks at Miles “Miss Miles. Can you get back to the hall and keep the people calm? We may need more refreshments for them.” Miles gives a nod and Ccino focuses on Rogers “Cadet Rogers. We need to make sure we aren’t bothered. Can you make sure to stand guard?” Cadet Rogers nods with a salute and moves to the door together with cadet Miles. Ccino looks at Falks “Captain. We need the priest to remain here and remain ready to crown Nightmare and vow him in. While I get the prince and king ready you need to go to the priest and give him a small update that Nightmare will be sworn in instead-”

Falks glares “Who do you think you are to order me and my guards around?”

Ccino freezes before giving him a look “We need to act quickly and adapt to the change.”

Falks huffs as he looks disgusted  “I will not serve a fake king.”

A moment of silence and shock goes through Ccino. He also feels… rejected? Dejected? It doesn’t make sense. Ccino instead focusses on the moment “How is he a fake king?”

Falks huffs “You are an idiot. He was never meant to be king. He was there to make sure that Dream would rise to his rightful place. Not be a useless and jealous brat and take it for himself! He didn’t even finish the ritual!”

Ccino glares “He did.”

Falks smirks “Oh believe me. He did not.”

Ccino glares as he starts to recount what he knows “He ate the apple. Legends speak that anyone unworthy of absorbing the magic would perish. Nightmare survived and was able to gain the power it gave. Meaning the magic decided him worthy.” Falks blinks but Ccino continues “Nightmare is a son of the old king Nim just like Dream. Are you really disrespecting the royal bloodline?” Falks looks a lot more worried. Ccino goes for the finishing blow “Not to forget. The ritual spoke of a large betrayal. I do believe. That eating the apple and betraying his twin would count as such.”

Ccino may not agree with any of these thought and believes followed by these people. But he knows how to speak their language and play their game. “That means. That our new king is Nightmare. Who completed the ritual.”

Falks suddenly looks a lot more unsure before he hisses to Ccino “You best remember your place slave. And if I had it my way I would show it to your personally. Your pretty face can’t save you from all the consequences.”

Ccino doesn’t feel fear. He just feels rage. “Oh I remember my place just fine. My duty, as ordered by the old king, is to be by the new king’s side and help him in any way I can. I am doing exactly as I was instructed. I think it is time you remember your own oaths and vows Captain. As you are supposed to protect, guard and serve the ruling king yourself.”

Falks glares harshly at him “When this is over. I will take great pleasure in punishing you and your bratty mouth. Seems like the last twenty I gave you did not make much of an impression. Maybe with fifty lashes you will learn your place.”

Ccino raises a brow “Ask our king when it is calm. We both have our duties. Yours should be to make sure everything in the hall is still fine so we can move on to the coronation.” Ccino glares at him “The priest needs to be informed as I prepare our king.”

There is a silence in the room. The two cadets stare at Ccino and their captain but Ccino doesn’t care. He knows he will be in trouble for this. A lot of trouble and he does not enjoy knowing he will be punished later for ignoring the hierarchy and rules.

But Nightmare needs him now. Even if Nightmare doesn’t seem the same. It is still Nighty. Ccino used to tug him into bed with a  bedtime story. Ccino used to cut both Nightmare’s and Dream’s food into tiny pieces to make eating easier for them.

Ccino is not going to fail them now because some stupid birdbrain decided he wanted to try a powerplay when there is a crisis.

Falks breaks their eye contact first. He huffs as he walks to the door and hisses “Do what he says. We need to serve our king.” And he leaves the room. The two cadets follow.

Ccino glances back at the twins and is happy to note both seem too distracted to have noticed the captain trying his silly powerplay. The twins are just staring at each other and seemingly lost in their own world.

Ccino nods as he rushes to the wall. He finds the servants pathway and sneaks a look inside. Okay! Perfect! A sewing kit! He grabs it and takes it back inside before ringing the bell and leaving a message that he needs cloths in the colours of deep purple, dark blue, cyan or black stat. He goes back inside and looks around.

Now. What can he use to fix this mess? He searches the room and pulls out any tools he can find. Ccino knows that his fellow servants and maids all stash items all around the castle. To use when in need without having to travel far.

He manages to pull one of the large sun banners down and starts sewing it into a more casual tunic dress fit before managing to find a brown belt  to help give it shape. He goes to Dream’s side and checks the cape and clothes he is wearing. Okay he can let Dream still wear the large cape as it will go well.

Ccino pushes the clothes into his arms “Here. I am sorry it is rushed work. This will fit better.”

Dream stares before glaring as his sockets fill with tears “No! This… this isn’t supposed to be like this!” Dream glares at Nightmare “How could you?!”

Oh no not again.

Nightmare looks at Dream and that slight edge is back again “I just… I needed… I just wanted…” Each time Nightmare tries to speak he seems to stop as soon as he hears his own voice. Shock obvious on his face.

Dream glares “I can’t believe you would betray me! I trusted you! I thought we were a team!”

Nightmare looks so sad “We are…”

Dream shakes his skull.

Which is when Sera walks in. Great. This day just went from bad to horrible. And that is impressive as Ccino had believed he would become a sex slave.

Sera glares at him “Why are you making orders and what is going on?!”

Ccino just takes the fabric she brought and gets to work sewing quickly. He can’t make it complex or too detailed but anything fitting will be better than Nightmare being crowned while naked “Prince Nightmare ate the apple. I am preparing him for his coronation as quickly as I can.”

Sera looks shocked before frowning “You should not be this involved! Step aside as I will do so instead.”

Ccino shoots her a look “And what role gives you this right?”

Sera glares “I am the head of the servants! Including you!”

Ccino can’t help but smile brightly as he answers “Actually. As you very often told me. I am not a part of the servants. I am one of the king’s loyals.” He smiles brightly as he enjoys the shock on her face “And as you often told me. I don’t belong in your group.”

She sputters and glares “You have some nerve! You are nothing but a toy! Something to throw aside when the king is done with you!”

Ccino nods “Of course. But that is the king’s decision.” He makes sure to smile pleasantly “And you wouldn’t go against the king’s will… would you?”

Sera is seething but nods “I wouldn’t.”

Ccino nods “Good. Now. The guests will be forced to wait a little longer. I am sure they would appreciate some extra refreshments and food.” This time he downright smirks as he shoots her a look “After all. Your performance will reflect on all of us.”

Sera is furious. Ccino knows why of course. She must not enjoy Ccino echoing her own words back at her.

Sera nods before leaving the room.

Ccino checks his hands and is happy to note he got the basics done. This will sadly have to do. He walks over to Nightmare “My lord? May I help you?”

Nightmare blinks slowly at him before nodding “Yes.” He remains still as Ccino puts the newly made shirt over his head and carefully moves the slits he made in place. The tendrils move easily through it and seem to brush against his side and Ccino shudders. The goop is cool and sticks slightly. Still. He moves  with purpose as he gets Nightmare into his new shirt. It is a bit too tight for the other and Nightmare frowns as he looks down at it. Ccino starts messing with the seams as he tries to gain a bit more room for Nightmare to move around in.

Ccino eventually needs to abandon that as he has to focus on the other parts. The cloak he made is easy in design and has a hood attached for Nightmare to use if needed. He quickly stitches in the familiar pattern of the moon phases at the button and around the neck before putting it over his shoulders.

Shit. The normal strings would just not be impressive enough.

Come on think. Think. Think.

Ccino sees a glimmer of gold and looks down. His jewellery!

Ccino quickly undoes the chain around his neck and clips each end on the cape. It works and gives it a nice shine. Mmh.

Ccino is quick to remove all his bracelets and other gold items as he moves around Nightmare. Putting some on the tendrils, which seem to really like wrapping around his arm or leaning against him. Ccino gives them gentle pats each time he needs to move or he removes them.

At the end his own clothes are much darker thanks to all the goop but Nightmare looks at least a little bit like a king. Ccino hopes that the distance from the others will be large enough that it isn’t obvious that this is a very bad patch job but he did what he could.

Ccino nods as he grabs a spare outfit for himself and quickly changes. No longer the very clear offering but at this point Ccino thinks the best thing to do is to get the whole day over with before trying to pull everything back together.

Ccino nods to the twins as he speaks “Okay! That is all I can do. If we take much longer they will become impatient and we don’t need them to be mad.” It is scary how easy it is for him to fall back into this role. How natural it always felt to speak to them as babysitter, caretaker and, he only dares to think it, older brother. Even with Nightmare now being a deity it still feels natural. It feels easy.

“We will go out to the throne room and the guards will open the doors. More people will watch as the priest crowns Nightmare. After that they will party but it is fine if you two retire for the night at that point.”

Dream glares “Nightmare shouldn’t be crowned! I should be!”

Ccino flinches as he looks between the twins. Making sure to keep his voice calm as he speaks “I know Dream. But I don’t think anyone will accept that. Not while the ritual and powers accepted Nightmare…” because that is what happened. Even if people seem to refuse to see it. According to all the rules known of the ritual. Nightmare completed each step. He has a new form and new power. He was accepted and ascended. Both to king and to be a god.

Ccino doesn’t know if there are private rules he doesn’t know but he wouldn’t even know who would know. So this is the situation they have at the moment.

Dream shakes his skull and slaps Ccino’s hand away. Yeah he figured. Ccino doesn’t take it personally. “It is wrong!” Dream glares at Nightmare.

Nightmare still has this glint in his sockets but each time he stares for too long at Dream, Ccino can see that Nightmare also focusses on him and the glint disappears.

Ccino focusses on Dream as he tries to calm the other down “I know you are angry Dream. But please. We don’t have time to discuss this and-”

Dream shakes his skull “I don’t care!” he glares at Nightmare “How could you!”

Nightmare’s tendrils slowly rise “I don’t…”

Dream doesn’t listen and his hand finds an old bust and he swings it right against Nightmare’s skull. A loud crack of stone and bones as the bust falls to pieces.

Silence before shock overtakes any emotion Ccino feels. Ccino rushes over as Nightmare slowly rises to his full height. His new tendrils sharpening and rising themselves.

Ccino gets to them and stands between them again “No! Both of you stop that. Dream! You know better than attacking your brother.” He shoots Dream a look.

Dream shakes as tears run down his angry face “He stole my future!”

Ccino shoots him a disapproving look “And you just hit him with a stone bust.” He sighs as turns towards the door to see it slightly open. Of course this guy is listening in. Whatever! Ccino speaks loudly “Cadet Rogers. Bring Dream to his room and stand guard. Make sure no one can bother the prince as the prince remains inside the room.”

Dream sputters “You can’t! You can’t do that!”

Ccino gives him a disapproving look “You are hurting. I know that. But you hurting is not an excuse to hurt others. You know your brother better than anyone and you should know that he would never hurt you unless he had a very good reason for it or had to. Instead of trying to communicate you attacked him. For this reason it is best to separate you two while we move on with the coronation.”

Dream shakes in rage as he looks down “I was supposed to be king.”

Ccino doesn’t feel good about this. But too much is counting on this. They can work on mending their relationship when Nightmare has the crown and people remain loyal. Than they can talk and relax. Cadet Rogers takes the prince away to his room and Ccino turns to Nightmare.

He only now realises that he had his back to Nightmare the whole time. That he had his back to someone who had his tendrils sharpened moments ago. But Nightmare looks calm and… he is leaning against the hand Ccino had held out to signal Nightmare to stay back. Ccino hadn’t even noticed as he tried to manage Dream.

Ccino checks his outfit once more before checking the skull. He can’t see anything. The goop is all liquid and hiding everything and Ccino isn’t sure if he can wipe it away safely “Nightmare? Does it hurt?” They are alone now. Ccino is too distraught to bother with titles unless he has to. Which he will have to in a few minutes.

Nightmare keeps staring at his hand “He… attacked me…”

Ccino frowns and nods “I know…  I am sorry…” he should have expected something like this. He should have made sure they were both safe. He just… he hadn’t thought… He should have considered this a possibility as Dream had been hurt by this.

Nightmare shakes slightly.

Ccino feels so bad for this “Nightmare. I know this is a lot but we can’t wait. People are waiting and have high expectations. You need to be crowned. Do you understand?”

Nightmare is quiet for a moment before nodding.

Ccino sighs “Good… good.” He makes sure to stand tall “Let’s get to work.” And he leads Nightmare out.

-----

Ccino is exhausted. The whole day had been exhausting and Ccino isn’t even sure if he can still recall everything that happened. Ccino just…

He just wants to sleep.

He rolls up in his bed. Now dressed in PJs as he tugs his blanket around. It is much too late for him. But he will need to be up early tomorrow to help Night- their king get ready for his first official day as king. Not to forget he needs to visit prince Dream and make sure he is okay.

Ccino is so tired and-

A knock on his door.

Ccino frowns. That is unusual. He walks towards his door and glances through the keyhole. He stares in shock before opening the door wide and bowing “My king. What do I own you this visit?”

His king stands there. A frown on his face “My… My mother’s room feels… wrong… I can’t sleep there. Dream hates me and does not wish to share his room. I wanted to sleep with you.” He still struggles with his sentences.

Ccino feels his soul freeze for a moment with the last part but he can see Nightmare means it literally. He doesn’t want to be alone.

Ccino isn’t sure why he can still read Nightmare just like he used to. You would think that Ccino lost that skill when Nightmare gained a new body. But even if the body is different. Even with his face being different. Ccino can still read him like he always does.

Ccino nods “Of course. Please come in.” he holds the door open and Nightmare walks in. He stands in the middle of the room seemingly lost.

Right. He doesn’t have any clothes in his new size. Ccino adds that to the mental to do list for tomorrow as well. Making sure their king has clothes that actually fit him. For now Ccino opens his drawer and searches it. He has a few oversized dress shirts and hopes it is big enough. He hands one over to Nightmare.

Nightmare looks at it before undressing and dressing in the clothing item. Ccino grabbed a spare pillow from the cabinet in the hall before throwing that on his bed as well.

It takes a moment but then they are both in Ccino’s bed. Nightmare gives a full body shudder and tugs his face and skull right by Ccino’s neck and shoulder.

Ccino has the strongest sense of déjà vu. Of when Nightmare was much smaller and he had night terrors. How Nightmare would use the servants tunnels to get to his room and climb into his bed at night. How they would make little blanket forts on days when everyone told Nightmare he wasn’t good enough. How Nightmare would climb into his bed when he was sad.

Nightmare… Nightmare may not look or feel or sound like the Nightmare Ccino knows. But it is still Nightmare. It is still his little Nighty.

Ccino hugs the large being closer “Sshh… it is okay… I am here.”

Nightmare shakes and shudders “Please… Please stay… I am so scared…”

Ccino tightens his hold on the other and holds him close “I am here Nighty. I swear on my soul.”

That seems to do it as Nightmare just holds unto him tightly. Tight enough that Ccino can feel his nails grip into his back. Ccino can feel those new tendrils circle him and hold him closely. Ccino just keeps holding unto Nightmare, keeps him in an embrace.

Eventually Nightmare falls asleep. Ccino can’t even find it in himself to care about the rumours this will cause. About the rumours that will follow after Nightmare leaves Ccino’s room.

Ccino doesn’t care. He will help and assist Nightmare. Everything will be alright.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Soulmate AU part 2; Things drastically change for the better:

Arthur and Merlin’s relationship develops, Uther becomes increasingly annoyed at his failed attempts to control them, Leon continues to have heart palpitations over trying to protect them, and Morgana thinks the whole thing is hilarious.

Part 1   Part 3 Part 4

So that conversation... happens.

To say it was awkward would be a MASSIVE understatement.

Arthur and Morgana spend the whole time answering Uther’s questions, so much so that Merlin barely speaks (he wasn’t great at keeping secrets, so he wasn’t too mad at them for answering for him) and Uther spends the whole time trying and failing to assert his dominance over his two dumbass kids (but they aren’t having it).

Eventually Merlin did speak up, quietly saying:

“I, um... I’m really sorry to interrupt Sire, My Lord... uh... Your Majesty Sir-”

Morgana smirks slightly and covers her mouth with her hand, Arthur rolls his eyes and squeezes Merlin’s hand, and Uther looks upon the whole scene with barely concealed bewilderment:

“-uh... my mum is waiting for me, and I’m usually not gone for this long so... could I... I mean would you mind if I... went?”

Uther looked even more taken aback at that. As much as this whole conversation had been based on Merlin, he hadn’t actually processed the fact that he was a whole person who would have family and places to be and a life outside of being The Prince’s soulmate.

He nods his head slightly and purses his lips:

“Right. Of course. Arthur said that you lived outside of Camelot?-”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before continuing:

“-Well I’m afraid that that is unacceptable. You are the soulmate of the Prince of this kingdom, inform your family that you are to move here as soon as possible, preferably before the month is out.-”

At Merlin’s wide eyes and Arthur and Morgana’s scornful faces, he waved his hand:

“-Don’t worry, housing and anything else that you will require will be provided by the Crown.”

Merlin still looks a bit dazed and surprised at his demand, so Arthur replies instead:

“Father, Merlin and his mother have a life in their village, you can not just demand that they pack up and leave everything behind to live here.”

Uther looks annoyed at this, but patiently (or as patiently as Uther is able) retorts with:

“Well he was going have to move eventually. The two of you are only a few years from being of age, and you can not possibly live in separate kingdoms when that happens, especially as you are Crown Prince. I’m allowing this... bond... to continue, but we are still royalty, and rules must be followed.”

Morgana goes to argue this time, but Merlin tugs her sleeve slightly and says quietly:

“It’s alright ‘Gana, he is right, I was going to have to move here eventually anyway. This way you finally get to meet my mum, and we’ll get to see each other more often. Mum won’t like it, but I know she’s missed Gaius, so it won’t be too bad, and I’ve always sort of wanted to explore the city.”

Morgana and Arthur stare at him for a few moments whilst he looks between them. Arthur sighs before replying:

“Fine, but only if you’re sure. And take your time, don’t pressure your mum into leaving right away, OK?”

Merlin nods, and everyone at the table stands, stepping back.

Uther mutters that they are dismissed, but watches as they say goodbye to each other. He furrows his eyebrows in interest as Morgana hugs Merlin, mentally noting that he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her smile that widely before.

When Arthur embraces Merlin, much tighter, and for much longer, a hand cradling the back of the peasant’s-... of Merlin’s head, and a soft, but powerful smile on his face, Uther forgets for a moment the distastefulness of the situation, and revels in the feeling of pride and happiness; his son had found his life partner. 

The King sweeps any thoughts of his late-wife from his mind, and drops the small smile gracing his face, but not before Morgana spies it and tilts her head at him, giving him a teasing smirk.

The boys whisper something that Uther can’t hear, and Merlin steps back, giving him a quick bow and an awkward wave, before disappearing into thin air. A familiar pop echoes around the hall, and a few gold sparks fall silently to the floor.

Arthur and Morgana bow to him very briefly, before turning and leaving the room without another word, arm in arm.

Uther stands alone in the room for a moment, sighing before muttering to himself:

“This is going to be a bloody nightmare. Public announcement. Before that I have to tell the council. And I have to figure out how I can legally make these people nobles, to justify everything-”

He looks to the ceiling, sighing once again as he says:

“-Gods give me strength.” Before turning and sweeping out the room.

~

The moment Arthur and Morgana leave the room, they turn to each other and burst into slightly hysterical laughter, sputtering about “the look on his face” and “oh my gods, *sire my lord your majesty sir* ” between breaths. 

The whole situation was unexpected, but to be perfectly honest, they didn’t regret it; they knew that the longer they waited before telling Uther, the bigger the problem would be.

Morgana straightens up after a moment, wiping tears from her eyes, before whipping her head around to Arthur in sudden panic:

“Oh my Gods, Arthur. Leon.”

Arthur’s eyes widen, and he curses suddenly before taking Morgana’s hand and running towards his chambers. They almost ran into multiple people, Nobles who tutted, and castle staff who jumped out of the way, not even having time to bow before the two teenagers were out of sight again.

They loudly burst into Arthur’s chambers, out of breath, to see Leon pacing a groove into the floor:

They stand with their hands on their knees, panting, but before they can say anything, Leon rushes to speak:

“Where on earth have you been?? A guard said you were in a meeting with the King all afternoon, what happened? Is Merlin ok?? They wouldn’t let me in, so I came back here to wait but-”

Arthur held up a hand to stop him rambling, and gave him a comforting smile. The Prince straightened up, and took one last deep breath before saying:

“Sorry, for worrying you Leon. But you are not going to believe what just happened...”

Morgana starts laughing again, and with that, the two of them shut the door behind them and explain in great detail what had happened, how Merlin had just appeared and Uther had freaked, and Gaius and Geoffrey had to be called, and how funny the look on his face was when they’d explained. 

Arthur had wanted to skip it out, but Morgana gleefully insisted on recounting just how much she and Arthur had ordered Uther around, and how he’d just taken it.

By the end of their explanation, Leon had collapsed in a chair, looking very pale, and a lot like he’d aged twenty years.

He holds his head in his hands, fingers messing up his curls, and stares at the floor as Arthur and Morgana glance to each other, trying not to laugh at the poor man.

After what seems to be hours, Leon straightens up, and looks to the two of them with a stricken expression:

“I can’t believe that... well I suppose he had to find out eventually but... dear Lord I can’t decide if I’m grateful I wasn’t there or not... oh my Gods I’m going to be demoted, disowned, banished.”

Arthur laughs at that and Morgana rolls her eyes at the man’s panic:

“Nothing’s going to happen to you Sir Leon, don’t panic. We didn’t mention you, as far as my father is concerned, the only ones who knew were us.”

Leon finally smiles briefly at that, muttering a quiet thank you, before standing up suddenly, looking panicked once again:

“Wait... you said he’d be moving here?? What about his... gift?? He can’t live in Camelot it’s dangerous. You may have protected him from the King for now but... if he finds out nothing will stop him from... nothing will stop him.”

The two of them sighed at that. They had been mentally considering it, but they were just taking it one victory at a time. Arthur replied moments later:

“We’ll just have to be careful. He has to be careful in Ealdor anyway, he’s already a bastard, he had to hide magic from the other villagers because it probably would’ve been fatal for him to give them a second reason to hate him. We can set ground rules when he actually moves here and... we just have to be careful. It’ll be a new life for him and his mother, we can be careful.” 

He says the last bit with a decisive nod, and Morgana and Leon relax slightly. Arthur was right, they’d been fine so far, they could keep it up.

He would never say it out loud, but if his father found out... if he tried to hurt Merlin, Arthur knows without a doubt in his mind that he would give up his inheritance, take Merlin’s hand, and run. Without hesitation.

He would love nothing more than to turn his kingdom into a place where Merlin could be free and happy one day, but until then, he would do anything to keep him safe, even if it meant leaving everything behind.

~

The next few weeks rush by.

Uther had tried to limit the number of visits between Merlin and Arthur, but neither of them were having it, and if anything, they were seeing each other more with the upcoming move.

Hunith did in fact freak out at Uther’s demand of her and Merlin moving to Camelot. For several reasons.

First off, she had a life here. It was difficult, but simple, honest work. The winters were hard, but the summers made up for it. The villagers may have started of being a little cruel to her and Merlin, but they warmed to them when the dark haired boy was nothing but sweet and kind to everyone.

Second off, her son was magical. Both naturally and unnaturally magical. Essetir was dangerous, yes, but Camelot? Camelot was so much worse.

She supposes it had to happen eventually. She didn’t like to think of it often, didn’t want to tempt fate, but her son was the Crown Prince’s soulmate. That meant that one day... he would be married to the King. He couldn’t exactly do that whilst living in Essetir, least of all because the Essetir Crown would throw a world ending fit.

In the end, she agreed to the move rather quickly, at least she would be close to her brother, and she could finally meet Leon and Morgana.

As much as Merlin and Arthur urged her not to rush, she really had nothing to do but say goodbye before they made the journey to Camelot, and the three of them were leaving the village behind them within the month, just like Uther wanted.

Though he definitely hadn’t wanted Arthur to pop away one morning, a full travel pack and a sword on his person, intending to make the journey with them. But in the end, Arthur ended the argument by rolling his eyes (much to Morgana’s amusement) and disappearing before The King could get another word in.

No public announcements had been made (they decided to wait until Arthur came of age), but the council had been informed. They were NOT happy. 

Uther would never admit it, but he did feel a swell of pride when Arthur slammed his hand on the table, and firmly told them that this was happening whether they liked it or not, and if they dared complain instead of help, they would find themselves without a chair at the table, and severely lacking in titles and land.

Uther was relieved when he found out that Hunith was Gaius’ younger sister. Gaius wasn’t a noble, but he was a life-long, close friend of the King, and a trusted advisor. Hopefully that would make it easier. 

The Court Physician wasn’t a title that came with land, or nobility, BUT it was the most respected position in the royal household, below actual nobles.

If Gaius could take Merlin on as his apprentice... then he would be an almost fully trained physician by the time he came of age, and that would be respected. Then at least he would have a role outside of being the Prince’s Soulmate.

It was all coming together in Uther’s mind. Of course it wasn’t perfect. The absolute ideal outcome would’ve been if Arthur’s soulmate had been foreign royalty (if only anyone knew about Merlin’s father...), but he could make do with this. He would have to, if he didn’t want to lose his son and his ward.

~

The day of Hunith, Arthur, and Merlin’s arrival finally comes.

Uther didn’t greet them in the courtyard (it would be unsightly for a King to greet two commoners, even if The Prince was with them) but Gaius, Morgana, and Leon did.

Everyone breaks into wide smiles when the castle gates are opened, Arthur and Merlin rushing forward to meet Morgana and Leon in a big hug, and Hunith rushing forward to meet her brother, whom she hadn’t seen in several years.

There is laughter and hugs all around before Merlin finally steps back and takes his mother’s hand, realising he should probably give actual introductions:

“Mum, this is The Lady Morgana, ward of the King-”

Morgana gives Hunith a wide smile and curtsy, before stepping forward and giving her a brief hug. Morgana was very touch averse with everyone but Merlin, Arthur, and Leon, but in her books, any woman who raised Merlin into the young man he had become, was a woman who deserved her trust. And a hug:

“-and this is Sir Leon, Knight of the King.”

Leon took Hunith’s hand, placing a brief kiss on her knuckles before stepping back respectfully. Hunith quickly followed him, and to his great surprise, wrapped the taller man in a tight hug. He wraps his arms around her after a few moments in shock, when she whispers in his ear:

“Thank you for keeping my boys safe.”

He steps back, a wide smile on his face and his hands on her shoulders. He replies quietly so that only she would hear him:

“It has been my genuine pleasure, and I plan to continue to do so for the remainder of my service.”

Hunith gives him an even wider smile, and pats his hand, before the two of them step back. The others watch on in adoration, before Leon clears his throat and addresses the group:

“I have been instructed to show the two of you to your new residence, before you are to meet with the King.”

Arthur steps back before saying regretfully:

“Unfortunately, Gaius and I should go and meet with my father immediately. Leon, you lead the way, we shall remain with him until you return and we can get this over with.”

He says the last bit with a grimace, and Morgana gives him a sympathetic smile as Merlin squeezes his hand. 

The group separates, Arthur and Gaius heading up the castle steps, and Leon leading the rest of them back out the gates.

Hunith and Merlin had been gifted a small house in the upper city, close to the castle, but not within it’s walls. Arthur had argued endlessly against that, saying they deserved chambers inside the castle, but Hunith was the one who refused.

She wasn’t nobility, and she enjoyed her simple life. She had already given up her farming and livestock, she refused to be cooped up in a giant stone castle where she would have nothing to do, and didn’t understand how anything worked.

Arthur finally saw the sense in that, he can understand that it would be difficult for Merlin and Hunith to live in the castle. He hated to admit it, but they would certainly be looked down on, and Arthur was almost of age, he didn’t have the time to spend all day entertaining Merlin, even if he wanted nothing more than to spend all day every day with him.

The house was small, but still three times the size of their place back in Ealdor. They had separate bedrooms, a large kitchen/dining area, a small storage room, and an extra room for relaxing (”City folk call them living rooms apparently.”). There was a small, fenced off grass area out the front, which Hunith was particularly excited about; she wouldn’t have to give up growing things after all.

The home came fully furnished, and Hunith was speechless at the large, comfortable beds, the soft chairs, and the abundance of cooking equipment. The living room also had a large hearth, and two ceiling-high bookshelves, though they were empty.

Once Hunith had had a good look around (the others had already seen it, and Arthur had been checking with Merlin at every step to see if he approved), Morgana excitedly grabs her hand and drags her back to the slightly larger of the two bedrooms.

Merlin follows confusedly, but Leon follows with a small smile on his face, he had seen what Morgana was planning, despite her best attempts to keep it secret.

Morgana finally stands Hunith in front of the wardrobe and gestures for her to open it. The older woman opens the doors with a little hesitation, before stepping back and gasping, her hands over her mouth.

Morgana grins proudly before speaking to a speechless Hunith:

“My gift to you. I organised a few things for Merlin as well. Of course they’ll all have to be adjusted because I could only pass on to the tailor Arthur and Merlin’s descriptions of you. I thought that could be something nice you and me could do at some point in the next few days, after you’ve settled.”

Merlin steps around Leon to try and see what’s got everyone so wound up, and takes in a quiet gasp at what he sees. The wardrobe is filled with new, tailor made dresses, a few thick cloaks, and two pairs of good quality shoes. Two of the dresses were incredibly nice, royal-gala kind of nice, and the others were a mix of practical, casual, smart. 

He smiles widely, tears in his eyes at what Morgana had done for his mum. He’s always felt a little guilty at being the soulmate of royalty, but not being able to provide her with more than she had, but that changed, starting now.

Hunith finally rips her gaze from the new clothes, staring at Morgana:

“I can’t possibly...-”

Morgana’s tilted head and raised eyebrow forces Hunith to change tracks. The boys have told her how stubborn Morgana was, she has a feeling she wouldn’t be able to return the gifts:

“-I don’t know how to thank you, My Lady.”

Morgana rolls her eyes fondly, and brings her into a hug before stepping back:

“Oh none of that “My Lady” shit, and you don’t have to thank me, you and Merlin are part of the family now.”

Merlin gives her a grateful smile over his mum’s shoulder, which she returns, before Leon speaks up:

“I’m sure you can find time to get them all properly fitted in the coming days Morgana, for now we should get back up to the castle. I imagine The King and The Prince are waiting for us.”

Morgana nods, and Hunith subtly wipes her eyes, before allowing The King’s ward to intertwine their arms. Merlin smiles at the sight (he knew they would get along) before turning and following Leon out the house, and back up towards the castle.

Merlin was only a little nervous, he’d met the King multiple times now, and whilst the man was always painfully polite, it was clear that it was only because the whole situation bewildered him a little. But he’d never met his mother yet, and this next meeting would make the rest of his life go very smoothly, or very difficultly.

Leon pauses a moment outside the door to the throne room, glancing back at Merlin, who takes a deep breath before standing straight and nodding.

Leon smiles encouragingly at him, before pushing the doors open and walking into the room.

Arthur, Uther, and Gaius were stood in front of the thrones quietly discussing something, but look up when they hear the doors open.

Arthur smiles widely and walks forward, giving Merlin a brief hug (which Morgana lovingly rolls her eyes at, they’ve only been apart for half an hour) and Uther straightens his back, before walking forwards regally, a practiced blank look on his face. Gaius gives his sister a reassuring smile, but stays back.

Leon and Merlin bow (Leon deeply, before stepping aside, and Merlin briefly and shallowly) and Hunith curtsied as best she could with Morgana protectively gripping her arm.

Arthur and Merlin stand next to the girls, hand in hand (Uther’s mind bounces between wanting to smile fondly, and wanting to grimace at the PDA), and Uther stops just in front of Hunith:

“Welcome to Camelot, your swift arrival was pleasing.”

Hunith nods, a polite, but strained smile on her face:

“Thank you, My Lord. Anything to make the boys lives easier.”

Uther clenches his jaw, and Morgana has to hide a smirk at the implication that she’d only moved to help out the boys, and not because Uther had ordered it.

“Of course. I hope your new home was to your liking?”

Hunith nodding in reply, the smile on her face a little brighter this time:

“Yes, My Lord, it’s wonderful, I can not thank you enough for providing it. I look forward to exploring your city.”

Uther nods slightly before saying:

“Yes, yes, it’s rather lovely this time of year. The Crown will provide a small allowance for a time, until you can get yourself on your feet. I’ve already discussed it with Gaius, and arrangements have been made for Merlin to become the physician’s apprentice, at Gaius’ earliest convenience.”

“Thank you, I’m sure it won’t be long before I can find work, in such a bustling city.”

Uther nods tersely, before turning back towards Gaius. He waves his hand dismissively over his shoulder as he says:

“I have other matters to attend to for the rest of the afternoon. Sir Leon, Arthur and Morgana, you have the rest of the day off to show our new... residents, around. You’re all dismissed.-”

Leon is the only one who bothers bowing to Uther’s back, and Morgana raises an eyebrow at him, before rolling her eyes and turning to leave, dragging Hunith with her, closely followed by the boys.

Just before Leon can exit the room, Uther turns around hurriedly:

“-Before I forget, Sir Leon, I would like a word.”

Leon turns around after wiping the panic from his face. He shuts the door after the others, who look at him worriedly, before turning around to face The King:

“My Lord?”

Uther settles an assessing gaze on the knight, and Leon has to stop himself from gulping in response. Uther sighs, and speaks after a moment:

“After paying a little more attention to the relationships between yourself, the boys, and Morgana, I have realised something. You obviously knew of this... relationship, long before I did. Do no deny it.-”

Leon does gulp at that, but before he can defend himself, Uther asks:

“Can I trust that it would have been brought to my attention had anything problematic started?”

Leon widens his eyes in shock, before gathering his thoughts and replying, injecting as much confidence in his voice as possible:

“Of course, My Lord. I kept a close eye on them myself, and made sure that the Prince’s safety was my highest priority at all times. Had anything worrying happened, I would have come to you immediately. I am loyal to the throne, My Lord.”

(A big fat lie considering the whole “Merlin is a sorcerer” thing, but the King certainly doesn’t need to know that.)

Uther nods thoughtfully, before meeting Leon’s gaze again:

“Good. I am glad that Arthur has someone looking out for him. I trust you will continue this?”

Leon nods:

“Of course, My Lord.”

Uther nods once again:

“Excellent. Make sure none of... this, interferes with his studies. You are dismissed.”

Leon bows deeply, before leaving the room. He shuts the door behind him, leaning on it and taking a deep breath, before looking up to meet the worried gazes of the others, who had waited for him. He smiles shakily:

“Nothing bad, I’ll tell you later. Come on, let’s show these two around the upper-town.”

Arthur fixes him with a scrutinizing gaze, but Leon meets it (Arthur has yet to win a staring contest against Leon, in fact, Morgana was the only one who ever came close), and after a moment, Morgana shakes her head, and begins to walk down the corridor, the boys trailing after her and Hunith.

They spend the rest of the afternoon showing Merlin and Hunith around the upper-town. The tour leads them around the market, the town square (where the well is) and other important fixtures of the town, such as the tailor, blacksmith’s, and some of Morgana’s favourite shops (Uther hated it, but Morgana and Arthur regularly sneak out of the castle to spend time in the city).

By the time the sun sets, the group is relaxed and getting on well. Merlin knew Morgana and Leon would love his mum, but it was still nerve-wracking, and he was overjoyed by how well it was going.

The kitchen of Hunith and Merlin’s new home had yet to be stocked, so they stopped off at some street vendors before heading back to the house. Hunith tried to argue when Arthur insisted on paying, but she was shut down pretty quickly when Arthur reminded her that he was The Prince, he could more than afford it, and anyway, “I like contributing to the local businesses, I wouldn’t be a Prince if I didn’t have my people around me, I like to give back where I can.”

Leon and Morgana smiled proudly at that, but the smiles on Hunith and Merlin’s face were more fond. 

(Morgana quietly thinks about how differently he would’ve been without Merlin to ground him. With a father like Uther, Arthur easily could’ve turned into an absolute prat.)

They stay together long into the evening, talking and laughing, before Leon finally says it’s time to go. Morgana, Hunith, and Merlin may have tomorrow free, but Leon and Arthur had training early, followed by a day full of meetings.

Morgana smirked at Arthur’s grumbling, but dutifully stood up. The three of them give Hunith and Merlin tight hugs, before leaving them alone, heading back to the castle.

Hunith and Merlin sit in comfortable silence, wide smiles on their faces, before Merlin breaks the silence:

“So what do you think? I know Uther is a bit of a prat, but he’ll want to see as little of us as possible, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Do you... like it here?”

Hunith smiles at him fondly, and runs her hands through his hair when he rests his head on her lap:

“You’ve really made a life for yourself here, haven’t you Merlin? I’m proud of you. Lady Morgana and Sir Leon are exactly how I expected them to be. The house is far more than I expected, but I’m grateful, and I’m sure it won’t take me long to find a job. I’ll always miss our rural village, but nothing is stopping us from visiting every once in a while, to get away from the city, and we have a nice little garden here.-”

Merlin closes his eyes, soothed by his mother’s fingers in his hair, and hums thoughtfully before Hunith continues:

“-You know, I had always considered sending you here to apprentice under Gaius when you were older anyway. Funny, how things turn out. Though perhaps I should’ve realised that nothing was going to go to plan when the little blond boy that appeared in my kitchen all those years ago turned out to be foreign royalty.” 

Merlin huffs out a laugh from when he laid, and responded sleepily:

“Yeah. You know I don’t even think of him as royalty, most of the time. He’s just... Arthur.”

Hunith smiles gently down at him, and takes a few minutes to respond:

“I know what you mean. I’m glad you found your person... or more accurately, I’m glad your person found you.-”

She chuckles, before adding the next bit on quietly:

“-Your father would be proud of you.”

Merlin opens his eyes, and looks up at her blearily:

“You think?”

Hunith’s smile widens, and the both of them politely ignore the tears gathering in her eyes:

“I know.”

~

Time passes quickly. The next day, Merlin, Hunith, and Morgana spend the whole day shopping and stocking up on food and other necessities (the small allowance Uther had provided for them actually turned out to be quite a lot, especially compared to the amount of money Hunith was used to having around).

At some point over the next week, like Morgana had suggested, her and Hunith spent a day in the tailor’s, having all of her new clothes adjusted properly. 

Hunith was also ecstatic to get a job off the back of that. She may not be at quite the professional level yet, but she was the one most of the locals would go to, to fix and patch and re-sew old clothes back in Ealdor.

Merlin started his apprenticeship with Gaius, which meant the days being near, but not with Arthur, were less boring, and slightly more bearable.

He picked up healing quickly (after seeing all the various injuries Arthur and Leon had sustained over the years during training, he was eager to learn how to help them), and he soon became known around town as Gaius’ Boy.

His cheerful demeanour and wide smile endeared him to all of his patients, and he made a point to try and be polite to everyone he came across. Suddenly living in a bustling city, and having what was basically a full time job, was a little overwhelming, but being here meant being with Arthur, so he was determined to make the most of it.

The boys spent the evenings together whenever they could (and still slept in the same bed most nights, out of habit. Merlin’s nightmares had made a brief reappearance after his first meeting with Uther, but they stopped again fairly soon.), and Arthur would often pop out of the castle to share meals with Merlin and Hunith, Morgana and Leon joining them when they had the time.

This did however, involve a few instances of Merlin or Arthur appearing at inopportune times. 

An emergency patient coming in meant Arthur appearing in the physician’s chambers, instead of Merlin’s home, like he had expected. 

Luckily the patient was unconscious at the time. 

(Uther had informed them that the council members and guards who worked in the castle had been informed of the situation (so that Hunith and Merlin wouldn’t be bothered), but the public wasn’t to know at all, at least until Arthur came of age.)

A council meeting overrunning meant Merlin appearing just behind the Prince’s seat, and turning wide-eyed and red-faced before squeaking out a quick apology and disappearing again.

The meeting was side-tracked for a good five minutes as Arthur tried to cover a smirk, Morgana (who insisted she be involved in important meetings when Arthur was) openly laughed, and Uther held his head in his hands, rubbing his tired eyes and muttering something about “stupid kids” and “stupid soul-bonds”.

They tried to be more careful after that incident, and they got better at exploring the bond. With some focus and practice, the boys got fairly good at sensing where the other was, and sometimes, if they were with other people (though that particular sense wasn’t as reliable).

About a month after they moved to Camelot, Merlin was introduced to a lovely girl called Guinevere. Her mother had served Leon’s family, and once she was old enough to have a job herself, Leon swung her a position in the castle as Morgana’s maidservant.

Arthur was oblivious at first (until an amused Merlin explained it to him later on), but Merlin and Leon definitely noticed the... bond, between the two girls, though all four would deny it to anyone who asked, in order to preserve their privacy.

Guinevere, or Gwen, as her friends call her, quickly joined the group. Morgana was grateful for another female presence, and Leon was most certainly grateful for the addition of someone who cared about safety and being careful.

He loved his kids, (”Oh my Gods... I’m a father... how do I... Gaius I know nothing about teenagers, what do I do?? I’m not ready to be a father!”), and Hunith was a good influence, but they couldn’t be around all of the time, and the boys had a bad habit of making trouble, especially with Morgana egging them on. 

He stressed a little less when he knew that Gwen was with them.

~

Shortly after Gwen’s appearance, the group (unfortunately without Leon, he had a patrol:( ) went exploring in the woods beyond the city. Uther was stuck in meetings all day, but Arthur and Morgana had a free day, and after much begging, Gaius let Merlin off as well. 

Morgana having a free day, meant that Gwen had a free day as well (not that Morgana ever made her do many chores anyway, only enough to keep up the pretence that they were Lady and Servant and not... something else).

They put together a picnic, took some horses from the stables, and headed off at first light. It was a warm, summers day, and they planned to spend the day in the sun, Arthur didn’t have to worry about duties, Merlin didn’t have to worry about memorising herb lists and symptoms, Morgana didn’t have to worry about being a Lady, and Gwen didn’t have to mind her place as a servant.

It was planned to be the perfect day, and it almost was. 

After a couple hours journey, they found a beautiful lake, and they spent the morning splashing around in the water, playing and laughing and messing around. 

They spent the middle of the day drying in the sun and snacking on all the sweet meats and fruit that Arthur had snuck from the kitchens. 

They spent the afternoon playing stupid games, and relaxing in the shade, holding hands with no worries, and even sneaking the occasional kiss, revelling in the freedom of being alone.

They were sad to have to leave, but it became an agreement that at least once a month, whilst the weather held out, they would come to their spot by the lake, and relax with each other. No responsibilities, no obligations, no “My Lord”s or “My Lady”s, just four friends, hopelessly happy and in love.

It was on the way home that things went a little wrong.

Usually this stretch of the woods was completely safe and bandit free, but the group was not so lucky as to have an eventless journey home.

When they were about halfway home, Merlin halted his horse suddenly and sat up straight, letting go of Arthur’s hand and tilting his head, eyes closed, listening to the woods around him with a frown on his face.

Arthur looks back and frowns, before calling to the girls, a few metres ahead of them, to wait for a minute.

He looks to Merlin, still with a frown on his face:

“Merls? What is it?”

Merlin waves his hand in Arthur’s direction, gesturing at him to be quiet. He is silent for another few moments, before he opens his eyes wide, and speaks in a low, but rushed voice:

“Gwen, ride ahead with ‘Gana, everyone get your swords out, we’re being watched.”

Arthur tenses at that, and he and Merlin pull their swords out (Leon had insisted that Merlin learn, he wasn’t nearly as good as the others yet, but he could hold his own. Leon was also the one who insisted they be armed when he learnt of their plan for the day.), quickly followed by Gwen and Morgana. 

Instead of riding ahead, Morgana speaks up quickly:

“Gwen can fight just as well as me, I’ve been training her, we should stay together.”

Arthur looks worried, but Gwen just rolled her eyes before adding quietly:

“I’m also the daughter of a blacksmith you know, I’ve been handling swords since before I could walk.”

Arthur sighs and nods, before looking back to Merlin, and quietly, so that only Merlin can hear him:

“How many, and where from?”

Merlin tilts his head away from Gwen, so she can’t see the gold of his eyes, before flexing his hand slightly, and responding:

“Six or seven, I think from the South.”

Arthur nods once more, before turning his horse to be facing South, and he peers into the trees. It wasn’t quite dark out, but it was dimming, and the forest was so thick, the underbrush so overgrown, that it was difficult to see much beyond the edge of the path.

The girls urge their horses back the way they came, to be close to the boys, and stay alert, swords raised, feet braced and ready for action.

Merlin clenches his hands and gasps slightly, before murmuring, loud enough for everyone to hear him this time:

“Twenty seconds.”

Gwen goes to question how he knew that, but a quick look from Morgana, and a shaken head meaning “Later” stops her, and she instead focuses her gaze on where the others were looking into the trees.

Like Merlin had said, twenty seconds later, the treeline breaks, and seven men burst through yelling, and brandishing swords, the shock of which sends the horses scarpering, and the four of them have to jump off and let them go.

Battle broke out immediately, the teenagers aiming to incapacitate or injure, but the bandits not being so kind with their attacks.

The battle is intense, Merlin using little bits of subtle magic here and there to trip or confuse various attackers, Arthur and Morgana slowly but surely taking down men, one by one, and Gwen easily enough holding her own.

But, four, mostly inexperienced (Arthur had only had to actually fight for his life once or twice at this point, and before, he was surrounded by fully trained knights whose top priority was keeping him safe, even to their own detriment) teenagers, aged 15, 16, and 17, were no match for seven seasoned attackers.

In the end, it’s the four of them left (each with bruises and cuts, but nothing serious) vs three remaining attackers, but the battle quickly stops when Merlin turns around (a gut feeling) to see one of the men silently raise a sword, readying to bring it down on to Gwen’s turned back.

He instinctively raises his empty hand towards them, and yells:

“NO!”

He sends the man flying back, head hitting the tree behind him with a thwack.

Gwen stares at him (or more accurately, the golden glow of his eyes) in astonishment, and Morgana and Arthur use the momentary distraction to deal with the last two attackers, giving them swift knocks to the head.

Morgana rushes forward to Gwen and tugs at her shoulder, trying to get her attention to see if she’s ok, but she ignores her just staring at Merlin.

Merlin drops his hand, and his face morphs from anger to shock to fear, the gold in his eyes fading back to blue as Arthur reaches his side and takes his hand. 

Gwen finally stutters out a:

“What... you’re... but Uther?-” before wiping the shock off her face, and setting it in grim determination, clenching her jaw.

Merlin’s eyes widen at her expression, and he takes a fearful step back, Arthur steps in front of him and Morgana tries to grab Gwen’s arm as she begins to stalk quickly forwards, but it slips from her grip.

Arthur holds his hands out, and begins to speak, seemingly trying to talk her out of hurting Merlin, but she ignores him, and pushes him to the side with surprising strength.

Merlin gasps and tries to take another step back, tears in his eyes, but she grabs his shoulders and, before anyone can say anything more, pulls him into a crushing hug.

Merlin takes a few moments to respond, clearly not expecting such an affectionate reaction to being discovered as an evil sorcerer, but hugs back at Gwen’s watery “Thank you.” whispered in his ear.

Arthur lets out a breath, and he and Morgana smile, not really sure why they were so surprised at Gwen’s acceptance. I guess that’s what happens when you grow up in Camelot, expecting hatred and violence and fear in response to magic is ingrained in you.

Gwen finally pulls back, and takes Merlin’s hands, the both of them have tears on their faces, and Gwen sniffs before quietly saying:

“I’m sorry that you have to live in fear, and I’m sorry I wasn’t clear enough in my adoration for you that you felt you had to be scared of my reaction. I promise to keep you safe, to the best of my ability.-”

She fondly punches him in the arm, before continuing with a smile:

“Next time, you can just do that right at the beginning, and save us all the trouble, yeah?”

Merlin nods slowly, before pulling Gwen into another tight hug. He buries his face in her neck, and she runs her hands through his hair and they both quietly weep.

Arthur and Morgana both feel the strong urge to step in, and comfort their own soulmates, but they resist, and instead give them a moment of privacy as they round up the horses, and search the bandits.

After a few minutes, Gwen and Merlin pull back, and walk towards the other two, holding each other’s hand comfortingly. 

Whilst searching their unconscious bodies, Arthur hadn’t found anything identifying, but had found a length of rope in one of their discarded bags, hidden in the underbrush.

He cuts the rope into separate pieces and ties the bandits up, to individual trees, before looking back to the group:

“This won’t hold them long at all, but we don’t have the means to transport them back to the city. I can get my father to send a search party to look for them, but by the time we get back to the City, and the Knights get out here, they’ll probably be long gone.”

Morgana raises an eyebrow and replies:

“I thought you Knights were excellent trackers. They won’t wake up for a while, and they’ll be dazed, so it’ll take them a while to get out of the rope, if your knots are any good-”

Arthur goes to retort, but Gwen quickly interrupts him:

“That’s not the point. What if one of them remembers what Merlin did? And accuses him? Uther probably wouldn’t take their word against all of ours, but it would attract unwanted attention, wouldn’t it? And, no offense Merlin, but he’s already not exactly fond of you.”

Arthur nods at that, and Morgana hums thoughtfully, whilst Merlin just stares at her in shock. He speaks up after a moment:

“We could loosen the knots, and wake them up a little before leaving? That way they’ll have plenty of time to escape before the knights get here? But we have to report it. The types of men to attack four teenagers, none in armour, and two of whom are women, need to be warned about.”

Arthur and Gwen look troubled at that, and Arthur speaks up first:

“Morgana is right though, the Knights are brilliant at tracking, what if they find them anyway? I won’t risk one of them remembering what you did.”

Merlin looks annoyed, always the one to sacrifice himself, and Morgana furrows her brows before looking up, and speaking slowly:

“You could... over exaggerate how violent they were? Request a kill on sight order? That way, none of them make it back to testify, but they’re also no longer a problem for travellers.”

Arthur tilts his head in surprise, and Gwen widens her eyes at the suggestion.

Arthur looks like he’s genuinely considering it, when Merlin gasps:

“Oh!! Wait! The other day, I read about a spell. It’s like a memory charm, I can make them forget the last ten minutes or so, if it works, and we time it right, they’ll remember attacking us, but not how the fight ended!”

He has a grin on his face, but Morgana and Gwen look doubtful, whilst Arthur looks thoughtful, before speaking:

“Have you tried it before? Do you know it would work?”

Merlin turns a little pink, before looking to the floor, and saying:

“Well... do you remember agreeing to let me try it on you last week?”

Morgana grins as she realises the implication of the question, and Gwen gasps as Arthur’s eyes grow wide, and he shakes his head slowly:

“...No.”

Merlin finally meets his eyes, with a nervous smile on his face as he says:

“Then yeah, I’ve tried it before and it worked fine.”

Morgana and Gwen start laughing as Merlin bites his lip and Arthur blinks a few times, before speaking again:

“...Ok, you cast the charm or whatever, I’ll make sure the ropes are done tightly, then we’ll wait for one of them to wake up, to check that it worked, then we’ll leave, and send a patrol back to arrest them.”

With the girls still laughing in the background, Merlin goes to the three attackers who had witnessed him perform magic and cast the spell, whilst Arthur double checked all of the bindings.

The group only has to splash cold water on the face of one of the attackers for him to cough himself awake. He looks around, clearly bewildered, and yells:

“What?? How the fuck... what did... how hard do you hit, kid? Jeez, how the fuck did I-”

He’s cut off by Arthur hitting him in the head again with the hilt of his sword, before he steps back and says:

“Ok. It worked. I think it’d be best if we got home as quickly as possible, we’re already going to be late.”

With that, the group takes one last cursory glance (and fill with pride at the idea that they’d managed to fight off a group of thieving murderous bandits all on their own) at the bound bandits, before mounting their horses, and urging them into a gallop towards Camelot.

The report to Uther was definitely intense, The King was furious that a group of violent criminals were attacking citizens, especially women (though Arthur made sure to point out that Morgana fought just as well as him, and Gwen held her own just fine) so close to the city.

He immediately sent out a large patrol to scour the woods, focussed especially around the path they used, and to not come back until the seasons changed, or the criminals were found.

Arthur was right, the ropes hadn’t held them for long, but he was also right in saying that Camelot Knights were excellent trackers, and they were hunted down within a week, and brought back to Camelot for sentencing.

Arthur and Morgana tried to speak against it, at Merlin and Gwen’s request, but Uther ultimately sentenced the offenders to execution, for crimes against the Crown and Citizens of Camelot, and didn’t question why they couldn’t even remember half the fight.

In fact, that actually had Uther praising the group for fighting well, and he begrudgingly admitted that Morgana’s sword lessons (which she had been ruthlessly demanding since she was a child) and Guinevere’s subsequent training, had paid off well.

~

THE END OF PART 2

Wow so I finished this way quicker than I was expecting, I just really love this concept, thanks anon, for requesting :)

Anyway, hope you enjoy gang

[help-i-need-a-cool-username]

Been thinking about what Mordred's life in Camelot would've been like if Merlin didn't hate him and then thought about how if Morgana was around she would probably always give him her favor at every tournament (until he married) and the other knights would tease him for that so have a broad outline for a Beloved Characters Dont Turn Evil AU

Morgana discovers her magic and Merlin swears to her that he'll protect her. He comforts her when she's scared and Merlin begs Gaius to share his knowledge and suspicions about Morgana to Morgana herself. One night Morgana bursts into their quarters in hysterics, waking them up, screaming and sobbing, and it feels like Merlin's hug is the only thing holding her together but its not enough. Glass starts shattering, candles flare, chandeliers fall to the ground. Gaius decides at this point not telling her will do considerable more harm than not, to both herself and others. They stay up through the night. Gaius speaking and Morgana asking questions, Merlin with a supportive hand on Morgana's shoulder. At one point Morgana tearfully asks the question Merlin asked Gaius long ago, "am i a monster?". They all fall asleep at the table, and that morning when Gwen arrives to wake Morgana only to find her absent with her blankets thrown over the bed and several things knocked over she runs and alerts the guards. The guards initiate lockdown and the commotion reaches Uther and wakes Arthur (Merlin is once again late), and they proceed to fear she was kidnapped right under their noses without anyone knowing. Arthur runs down to get Merlin so he can prepare him for the day only to open the door to find the three of them asleep on the table.

Later Merlin organizes for Morgana to learn more than Gaius can tell her from the Druids, but she intends to stay the night at least, if not then significantly longer (anywhere from a week to several months), and they have no good excuse for her to use that would allow her to leave without Gwen and guards. They come up with some very convoluted plan, which does not end up in the raid that occurred in canon, and when Gwen catches her sneaking back she lies and says she wanted to check up on Mordred (who she did run into), to see if he was with the Druid encampment that was rumored to be nearby (which he was). She didn't learn nearly as much as she hoped in those few hours, but they at least pointed her in a direction.

Morgause comes to town, and leaves Morgana her bracelet. After discovering it stops her visions Morgana takes it to Gaius, who reveals it was enchanted and looks similar to the one Lady Vivienne used to wear. Morgana states Morgause got it from her mother, but that Lady Vivienne was Morgana's mother and wonders how the bracelet ever got to Morgause. Gaius says there was a rumor that Lady Vivienne had a baby that displayed a affinity for magic, but Gorlois told Uther their baby had died before they even named her. Gaius reveals that the baby was smuggled out of Camelot and given to the High Priestesses, and Morgause might very well be that baby. Morgana begins to long for a connection with Morgause, to meet the sister she never knew of and recover something of her dead parents. When she begins secretly meeting Morgause, she tells Merlin and then asks him to come with her when she begins receiving lessons from her. Morgause tries to convince them that killing Uther is the right thing to do, but Merlin keeps reassuring Morgana that all they need to do is convince Arthur to change the law for when he is king, and he's not ready to do that now so theres no use in killing Uther before he's ready, and that she does love Uther and Uther does love her and would try to "fix" her well before he ordered her death. Morgause still wants him dead, to rush the prophecy of magic's return. Them sneaking out every few nights cements the idea that Morgana and Merlin are secretly dating in castle gossip.

Im not sure what happens with Morgause, but i think she would still take Camelot at some point and she would spare Morgana and by extension Merlin. Morgana and Merlin make sure to get Arthur out (and Merlin probably goes with him) because they dont trust Morgause to not kill him. Morgause reveals her heritage (and makes Morgana a Princess and her Heir) despite claiming the throne for people of magic and not the House of Gorlois, and the knowledge that Vivienne and one of her daughters were sorceresses leads Uther to believe he can not save Morgana from magic that is likely in her blood and THAT is what breaks his mental state. Morgana's real heritage is revealed soon after, with Uther informing Gaius that Morgana being a Princess is actually within her birth rights. Morgause continues Morgana's training because at some point Morgana has to become a High Priestess because canon. That or Morgause switches sides (this is a Beloved Characters Dont Go Evil AU might as well make it No Beloved Characters Are Evil AU) and she trains Morgana later after Arthur is a established King.

Morgause is overthrown and the Round Table formed. Arthur as well as several people in the castle know of or suspect Morgana of being a sorceress but he refuses to banish her, first believing it to have been out of her control (forced by Morgause) and later learning that her nightmares had been magic all along (how could he punish her for something he knows she had tried to get rid of for over a decade?). Perhaps he lets her keep the title of Princess, having always seen her as a sister (and someone who is compassionate for the people in a way royalty should be) and armed with the new knowledge of her being his actual sister. Everyone expects Regent Arthur to crack down on magic, its what Uther would have done and what the people want, so he does. Morgana becomes a advocate for magic, as she had been for Arthur in private as a Prince, and it scares people in the castle. They believe her to be working with Morgause, despite her arguments being for individuals' wellbeing and how punishments fuels hatred for Camelot. Several attempts are made on her life, many stopped by Merlin and Gwen and sometimes Lancelot. Arthur often "asks" Merlin for his opinion on magic and with Morgana's voice being public he feels okay with being straight with Arthur on what he thinks. Uther dies same as he did in canon: protecting Arthur from a assassination.

Mordred becomes a Knight because canon. Morgana is ecstatic to see him again and acts like a mother who hasn't seen her child in ages when she first sees him. Merlin has learned you often make the enemies that are destined to kill you (ex. trying to stop Morgana's visions from coming true) so he ignores Kilgharrah and doesn't hate Mordred (he is always wary though). Mordred alternates between childlike eagerness around the knights and following Merlin around while hero worshiping him (no one can figure out why. Their best guess is that Morgana is a mutual friend). In the beginning he kept messing up his name (calling him "Merlin" is just weird) and they often talk in their heads and therefore just stare at each other which has led to two conflicting rumors: theyre in love or they hate each other. Morgana often invites him to dinner, and when they dine with Arthur they easily slip into mind-talking (because chewing) and Arthur is convinced that they're making fun of him every time they do it. He protects Arthur when Merlin can't, often runs off to do side quests Merlin needs to do but cant get away to do, and often tags along with Merlin on his quests. Being able to share the knowledge of his destiny since Lancelot died (if he dies in this AU) relaxes Merlin's caution and allows him to be emotionally closer to him. Mordred enjoys being around Merlin and Morgana not just because he's Emrys and she's Morgana, but because they are the closest thing to home he has: they know what he is, they understand (bits) of his culture and make it possible for Mordred to share it with them, their individual magic sings strong enough to remind him of when he lived surrounded by it. He quickly grows to love them so very much and no one understands WHY. The knights tease him about it, and Morgana forcing Arthur to take Mordred on certain missions he isnt qualified for "so he can learn" does not help. Gwaine and Percival were planning to convince him that he couldnt compete in a tournament without a lady's favor because he's the rookie and his panicked look greatly amuses them only to find Morgana giving him her's before kissing his cheek. They were relentless after that, alternating between "lady's favors dont count if they're from your mom," "Mordred has a girlfriend," and whatever the medieval version of affectionately calling him "Bambi" is. Morgana sits in the stand's throne (since Arthur is competing) or besides it if Gwen is queen, and she flashes a smile at him when he comes out (Gwen too. He's a sweet kid with a baby face, of course he's one of her favorites. He also reminds her of Merlin when she first met him: kind, awkward, cute). This settles Mordred's nerves but has the unfortunate side effect of increased teasing. Merlin doesn't let it go to far, he never does, and gives them a distraction before running back to Arthur.

And then magic is brought back to the land and Morgana continues the work of the High Priestesses and helps the rebuilding efforts and they're still adventures and problems, but everyone Lives Happily Ever After

[laequiem]

Mal d’amour - Part 5

/5 times the High King of Elfhame missed his exiled wife + 1 time she had enough.

The package is there, on the front porch, but it clearly was not delivered by the postal service. There is no address, just a name: her name in elegant cursive letters. The same handwriting that is on the note she keeps on her nightstand.

Cardan’s.

read on ao3 • masterlist • part 1 • part 2 • part 3 • part 4 • last part

Cardan

It was already dark when I woke up from my dream and gave the package to Liliver. Due to mortals’ strange habit of living during the day, we have to wait the entire night before one of the spies can deliver the package. 

Needless to say, I do not pay much attention to the various meetings and meals I attend during the night. I doubt courtiers notice, given my usual blasé attitude. 

My participation in today’s revel consists mostly of drinking wine and asking the servants for more wine. Whenever someone approaches me for requests or conversation, I reply so shortly that they leave quickly. Nearing sunrise, the Ghost approaches and tells me the package is on its way.

I try to look like I am at least enjoying the revel in front of me. My tail is curled around my calf to prevent it from lashing wildly and betraying my nervousness. My fingers drum absentmindedly on the armrests of the throne as I stare distantly at nothing.

I only last half an hour after the Ghost’s appearance before I retreat from the throne room. 

The Bomb

The air of Portland, Maine stinks of iron and gasoline. Nothing like the mossy and flowery scent of Elfhame. Liliver lifts her scarf over her glamoured face, hoping the fabric will filter some of the iron out. It doesn't work, not really, but at least she will not be staying here for long.

High King Cardan has assigned her the task of delivering a package, as if her talents weren't better used elsewhere. She had agreed, or course—money is money. Plus, she hopes to sneak a glimpse of Jude and assess how her friend is doing. 

Ever since she left, she has been fighting the urge to peek at the contents of the package. It is about the size and weight of a dinner plate and is delicately wrapped in dark green fabric. Seeing how the King hid the thing, it must be quite valuable.

From the rooftop of the building opposite Vivienne Duarte’s apartment, Liliver can see Jude. She is sprawled on an old couch, numbly looking at some square box with moving images. She seems to be the only person in the small house right now—the perfect moment to deliver the package. The High King has made it clear that Jude has to be seen receiving it. Liliver cannot blame him for being careful. 

She makes her way across the street, climbing the stairs as quietly as she can. After placing the box on the floor, she presses the button next to the door and knocks twice. She then jumps to the roof of the adjacent building, making sure she has a good view of the door.

And then she waits.

Jude

Jude groans as she gets up from her spot on the couch for the first time since waking up this morning. Vivi left for work hours ago. Usually, she tells Jude when she is expecting a delivery. Maybe the person rang the wrong doorbell. Still, Jude makes her way to the front door. A peek through the peephole reveals that nobody is on the other side. 

It’s been 30 seconds, they better not have put one of those “sorry we missed you!” notices or else she swears—

The package is there, on the front porch, but it clearly was not delivered by the postal service. There is no address, just a name: her name in elegant cursive letters. The same handwriting that is on the note she keeps on her nightstand. 

Cardan’s.

Her chest tightens and she takes a deep breath. Is this hope or fear? It is her first time hearing from Cardan in more than six months. Part of her hopes that he will revoke her banishment and ask her to come back, but why would he? He is finally free to rule the kingdom by himself and be as cruel and unhinged as he wants to be.

The package looks out of place here, everything from the dried flowers used to decorate it to its delicate grassy smell scream Faerieland.

Jude closes the door behind her as she brings the package inside, certain that someone is out there watching her. She won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her reaction. She shoves the clutter off the coffee table and puts the package on it as she sits on the couch once again.

For a few minutes, she just stares at it, wondering if it isn’t better to just throw it out. 

Like he threw me out, she hears the intrusive thought over the roaring in her head, loud and unwelcome. 

She clenches her jaw, then undoes the strings tying the fabric together. Inside is a nicely carved wooden box topped by a folded piece of paper. She picks up the piece of paper and unfolds it. Her hands are shaking slightly, with fear or rage she does not know. 

When she reads it, however, the rage takes over.

I miss you.

Your devoted servant,

Cardan

Jude crumples the piece of paper in her hand and lets it fall to the floor. She opens the box and immediately sees red. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she screams to herself as she picks up the crown, its jewels sparkling in the artificial light of Vivienne’s apartment.

She has never seen it before. Cardan either found it deep in the vault or he had it made only to send it to her as a sick joke. In a fit of rage, she throws the crown against the wall and storms to her room. 

Her clothes are scattered everywhere, some of them lying on her air mattress for what might have been weeks. She picks out the darkest, most flexible clothes, then reaches under her mattress for Nightfell.

If it’s trouble he’s after, he’ll find her. 

Cardan

“I almost feel bad, Your Majesty,” the Roach says, “pay up.”

I knew trying to sleep was useless, so I headed for the Court of Shadow headquarters instead, where I have been playing cards with the Roach and the Ghost for hours now.

“I hope you’re not cheating,” the Ghost replies, “the punishment could be deadly.”

I lost every single game.

I am not paying enough attention to win.

The cards in my hands are blurry, their numbers and designs utterly meaningless. 

All I can think about is Jude.

Jude, opening my package and packing her things to come back here. 

Jude, opening my package and immediately throwing it out. 

Jude, immediately throwing the package out without looking inside.

This woman has occupied my every thought for years, and I still cannot predict her moves. She is a puzzle, a challenge I want to lose myself in solving. All I can hope for is that she opened it, at least. 

My last letter. My last gift. My last chance.

If this is all the time I had with her, I royally (urgh) fucked up. 

The Roach gathers the jewels from the middle of the table and brings them to his side.

I discard my hand and reach out to shuffle the deck when his attention snaps to the door, to the small form who just entered.

Immediately, I get up and walk to meet the Bomb.

“Did you find her?” I ask

“Yes,” she says, “She picked it up. I could not confirm that she opened it, but she brought it inside.”

“How is she?” I cannot stop the questions from pouring out of me.

“She looks… different,” she frowns.

I understand she is trying to find a way to phrase it without upsetting me. I do not even know what would upset me more, her being happy in the Mortal Realm, or her being miserable. 

“I see,” I sigh, “Thank you.”

The words feel wrong coming from me—yet they seem right in the moment. I do not know if I have ever thanked someone before. But these people, Jude’s spies, have been dealing with me for the last half-year. They have seen me at my lowest. I cannot go much lower than crying after a particularly gruesome nightmare.

I did not tell them this was my last time reaching out to Jude. From the look of pity in the Bomb’s eyes, she knows. I can’t stand it. I walk past her and leave the Court of Shadows.

The hallways are almost empty as I make my way to the cellars. The guards stand straighter as I pass the various rooms, but none of them stop me or try to talk to me. 

When I get to the cellars, I grab the worst bottle I can find. I wish the royal cellars had some really low quality alcohol—a budding brewer’s first try, anything that would taste as bad as I feel—but even the worst of the collection is still good. I drink the whole bottle.

Then another.

I drink until I forget.

Forget the responsibilities, the kingdom resting on my unworthy shoulders.

I try to forget about Jude, but I black out before I can.

[maybe-a-fangurl]

The Moon and the Sun (Zuko x Reader) part 3

Hey guys so here’s part three!! I know we don’t get to see Zuko in this part but we do get to learn a lot about Y/N which is exciting. But as always just ask to be added to the taglist, requests are open, and I hope you have a fantastic day!!!

Part 1  Part 2 Part 4

Masterlist

“Y/N, are you okay?” Katara asked as she sat down beside you on Appa’s saddle. “You haven’t talked that much since we left the North Pole, and you haven’t eaten or slept much either. We’re worried about you.”

“I’m just shaken up is all.” You said as you looked down at your hands, trying to stop tears from coming to your eyes as you thought about everything that happened in the North. It had been a few weeks but every time you let your mind wonder, you were back in the North, surrounded by fire as Zuko stood over you with his hand raised. Your dreams, well nightmares if you were being honest, took everything that happened and made it into something that would cause you to wake up crying and gasping for air.

“Do you want to talk about it? I know you haven’t wanted to but maybe you should.” She said, and you just bit your lip as you thought about where you would even start. “If you don’t want to its fine, I know that we haven’t really know each other that long, but if you do I’m here to listen.”

“I do want to talk.” You said as you looked up at her, her face immediately softened as she looked at the tears that were already filling your eyes and your lip that was starting to quiver. “I just don’t know where to even start.”

“You know, I still don’t know a lot about you, well how you ended up in the fire nation since you obviously aren’t from there. And how you ended up with Zuko.” Katara said with a small smile on her face, a smile that made you think of your mom and instantly you felt more comfortable than you had since you had been banished, you felt almost safe. “How about you start there?”

“I was from the Southern Water Tribe actually, I don’t know much about my real parents because I was a baby when I was taken to the Fire Nation. My fire nation parents had just lost their child a few months prior and my dad was a general and he happened to find me after they did a raid on one of the smaller villages. He said that I had been left behind, that there was no one in sight and when he seen me he knew that he couldn’t just leave me there. So, he was able to sneak me back into the Fire Nation and claimed that my mom died during birth and my dad died in battle and his dying wish was that he took care of me, no one questioned it of course. My mom was really close friends with Zuko’s mom, and my dad was high in the military, so we lived on the palace grounds. They never expected me to be a water bender, but when they realized I was they didn’t try to keep me from water bending, they wanted me to learn and to embrace that side of myself, so they found water scrolls and I taught myself. Zuko and his mom knew about my bending though, his mom helped us keep it a secret from her husband and the Fire Lord, she even found me scrolls and Zuko and I would spar sometimes when no one was around.” You said, your eyes were on your hands the whole time. “When Zuko was banished, I was also banished because I had revealed my water bending to heal him. His dad killed my parents for bringing me into the Nation and for letting me train in water bending, but somehow Azula was able to convince him to just banish me. So, I left with Zuko and I traveled around with him searching for The Avatar and then chased you guys around for a while.”

“Your parents sound like they were good people, and I understand what it’s like to lose someone you love to the fire nation, they took my mother from me.” Katara said and you could see the pain in her eyes as she said that.

“They were. And I’m sorry about your mother, but I know that she would have been proud of who you’ve become.” You said as you gave her a small smile, which she returned.

“Thank you.” She said as she glanced down at her hands for a moment before looking back up at you. “I was going to ask you about what happened after I was knocked out, but I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, I know you were pretty shaken up.”



“Once you were knocked out I tried to get him to stop, but he wouldn’t. We fought for a while before I turned the ground to ice and he surrounded us in a ring of fire. We fought for a while, but he knocked me down and I tried to get up, but I was only able to get on my knees when he stepped in front of me. I thought he was going to burn me, I even told him to do it, but he said that he couldn’t, not to me. And then he left me in there and I panicked, and I couldn’t do anything to get myself out. Do you remember when I said that he promised not to use his bending on me because I was scared of fire?” You asked, and she nodded, letting you know to continue. You took a breath as you looked down at your hands again. “The reason why I was scared of fire so much was because I got burned really bad when we were kids. I was sparring with Azula, and of course we didn’t use bending because she didn’t know I was a bender, but she wanted to make things interesting, so she put a ring of fire around us. We sparred for a while but eventually I lost my balance and fell back, Azula tried to catch me once she realized I would fall into the fire, but it was too late. My whole back is a huge scar because of it, after that happened I was terrified of fire and Zuko made that promise to me. I was so shaken up because not only did he break the promise of not to use his bending on me, but he also did the one things that made him promise that in the first place.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize that was why you were so upset when I found you.” She said as she took your hand in hers and gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to get you out sooner.”

“It’s okay, I should have been able to get myself out of that, but I was just in my head.” You said as you looked up at her. “But I needed that to break me down, because I’m stronger now because of it.”

--

“I don’t have a good feeling about this.” You said to them as you were standing on the platform waiting to trade the baby for King Bumi. You knew that the baby was Mai’s brother, you seen her with him the first night that you were here, and she came after you. She didn’t recognize you then because it was dark and you made sure to hide your face, but you knew now she would recognize you.

“It’ll be okay.” Sokka said as he gave you a small smile, you just nodded as you turned to where they were supposed to be coming from. Everything had been pretty crazy since you got to Omashu, and you knew that things were about to get worse when you seen three figures walking up the steps, three very familiar figures. You stepped behind Sokka as soon as you seen them and Katara sent you a confused glance, but you just ignored it as you closed your eyes, knowing for sure that this wasn’t going to end well.

“Hi, everybody!” Bumi yelled and you could hear the sound of them lowering him.

“You brought my brother?” Mai asked, and you just kept your eyes closed as you tried to calm your breathing.  

“He’s here, we’re ready to trade.” Aang said and you opened your eyes to look at the ground.

“I’m sorry but a thought just occurred to me.” You heard someone say and you would recognize that voice anywhere. It was Azula. “Do you mind?”

“Of course not Princess Azula.” Mai said to her and without looking you knew that Azula would have her signature smirk on her face.

“We’re trading a two-year-old for a King, a powerful earth bending King, it just doesn’t seem like a fair trade. Does it?” Azula said and you closed your eyes as you thought about what was about to happen. You knew that by now Azula was probably one of the best fire benders in the entire Fire Nation, and Mai and Ty Lee were both very capable of holding their own. You not only had to protect yourselves, but you had to protect the baby as well, and you knew that Azula would do whatever was necessary to get what she wants, even if that meant putting the baby in danger. And because of this, you were at a disadvantage.

“You’re right, the deals off.” Mai said after a pause, and you took in a deep breath. Part of you wanted to be shocked that Mai had just given up the chance at getting her brother back, but you knew that she wouldn’t go against what Azula had to say, she feared Azula more than she feared what would happen to her brother if they called the deal off.

“Whoa! See you all later!” Bumi yelled as they started to lift him back up.

“Bumi!” Aang yelled as he took off running.

“Aang stop!” You yelled but it was too late. You watched as Azula sent fire towards him and he jumped into the air and onto his glider.

“Y/N?” You heard Ty Lee say and you turned to see the girls were all looking at you. Azula looked away from Aang at you but as his head piece fell off she looked back up and realized who he was. She sent you one more glance, hesitating for a moment before running after Aang.

“We’ve gotta get the baby out of here!” Katara yelled as she stepped in front of you and Sokka.

“Way ahead of you.” Sokka said as he started to blow the whistle for Appa. He started to run towards the edge of the platform, but he was knocked down and you watched as Ty Lee jumped up and started to run towards him. You quickly bended water to grab her ankle and knock her down at you tried to go after Sokka. But once you were at the edge of the platform you heard Katara let out grunt and you turned to see Ty Lee hitting her, blocking her bending.

“Stop!” You yelled as you ran over to them, getting your water out as you stepped in front of Katara.

“I thought you left with Zuko.” Ty Lee said as she looked at you shocked.

“You two break up?” Mai said in a sarcastic tone as she sent you a glare.

“I did leave with him, but I had a change of heart.” You said, ignoring Mai’s comment as you brought the water in front of you, ready to defend Katara and yourself if you needed to. 



“You’re a traitor.” Mai said as she glared at you and brought a knife to her hand. “How could you betray us?”

“I didn’t want to, but the Fire Nation isn’t on the right side of the war. We don’t have to fight, we can all just walk away.” You said as you looked at the two of them, their features softened for a second before they glanced back at Katara.

“No, we can’t.” Mai said as she tightened her grip on the knife, ready to throw it. You just focused on the water in your hand as you got ready to fight. You knew that you would need to freeze Ty Lee to the ground and somehow freeze Mai’s hands but your thoughts were cut short as Sokka’s boomerang knocked Mai’s knife out of her hand. A smile came to your face as you looked to see Sokka riding on Appa, who landed and with one move of his tail sent the two of them flying off of the platform.

“Come on!” Sokka said, you quickly helped Katara up onto Appa before bringing all of the water back into her pouch and yours.

“You know them?” Katara asked as Appa started to fly in the direction that Aang went.

“They were my friends, I grew up with them.” You said as you looked over to where they were thrown off, and you couldn’t help but hope that they were okay.

“There’s Aang!” Katara said as she pointed to the mail systems.

“We can catch him.” Sokka said as he turned Appa towards where Aang was. You seen Azula behind him and a steady stream of blue flames was being sent his way. You watched as Aang and Bumi were thrown through the air and onto another mail shoot, but Bumi was able to stop Azula from following them. You stood up on Appa’s back and watched her as Appa flew away, you knew that was not the last time you would see Azula.

Once you got Aang he explained how Bumi surrendered and needed to stay and then went on to say that you all needed to continue your journey to find him an earth bending master. But of course, all of that had to wait until after you returned the baby to Mai’s family. Once you were all back at the camp site Aang decided that it would be best for him to go alone, which you all did not agree with, but he would not change his mind on going alone. So, that left you at the camp site with Sokka and Katara. You were sitting a little bit away from the group, thinking of everything that had happened that day when your thoughts were interrupted by Sokka.  

“What’s up?” Sokka asked as he came and sat beside you.

“What do you mean?” You asked as you raised an eyebrow at him, confused on what he meant by the question.

“You’ve been acting weird since earlier, just wanted to make sure you were good.” He said with a small smile.

“It’s just hard seeing them, I haven’t seen them in three years and I guess I just thought the next time we seen each other it would be under different circumstances.” You said as you let out a sigh. “I don’t want to fight them, but I don’t have a choice.”

“I get that you don’t want to fight them, but they chose their side, and you chose yours.” He said, and you just shook your head as you looked up at the night sky.

“But that’s the thing, they didn’t really have a choice in what side they chose.” You said as you kept your eyes on the sky.

“Of course they did, they could have left like you did if they wanted to.” He said but you just let out a sigh as you looked over at him to see he was looking at you confused by what you meant.  

“Sokka, if the water tribe had started a war and your father was leading it and told you it was the right thing to do. Would you believe him and stay on his side?” You asked as you looked at him. You knew that Sokka would never understand what it was like being in the fire nation, but you could at least try to give him an idea.

“Yes, but my dad is a good person.” He said without a second thought. “If he started a war it would be for the right reasons.”

“But what if he wasn’t, what if he was really just killing a bunch of people for no reason, but he told you it was for the right reasons and that people are going to die at war. What if you had been raised your whole life in schools that told you only half of the story, and that half made it sound justified and fair. If you never seen the real pain and suffering that the war was causing, you were only told lies about it being for the best.” You said, and you watched as he processed the words you were saying. “In history class when we were taught about how the Air Nomads were wiped out, they made it sound like a fair fight. They told us it was an actual battle, not that they ambushed and overwhelmed the nomads, using the comet to kill everyone and everything in sight.”

“Really? They just cover everything up?” He asked in shock as he looked at you and when you nodded he just looked down at his hands. “I guess if I were put in that situation I would stay loyal to my father and nation as well.”

“I think anyone would have. I changed sides because my circumstances were different, I was never really a part of the Nation and when I was banished with Zuko my parents were killed so I had no other reason to be loyal to the Fire Nation other than Zuko. And after traveling the world and seeing what the Fire Nation really was, I realized that even if Zuko was able to go back that I wouldn’t have went back with him.” You said and Sokka looked back up at you, shocked that you really wouldn’t have went back with Zuko. “But Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee they don’t have a choice to leave. They’ve never seen the real pain behind the war and they are so blinded by their parents that they wouldn’t even know it if they seen it.”

“If we wouldn’t have asked you to join us after what happened at the North, where would you have gone?” He asked, and you just let out a sigh as you looked back up at the sky.

“I was actually going to go to Ba Sing Se, but then I thought Zuko was dead and I knew I had to warn the North if I could, and I wanted to get even with Zhao.” You said as you kept your eyes on the stars. “But after everything that happened in the North, I was going to go to the South and see if maybe there was a chance that my parents were still alive. But after you guys asked me to come with you, I knew that it would have to wait.” “Do you know anything about your real parents?” Sokka asked and you just shook your head as you looked back over at him.

“All I know is that Y/N is the name they gave me, when my dad found me it was embroidered on my blanket and they wanted to at least give me that small piece of home.” You said, and you could practically see the wheels in his head turning.

“I’ll help you find your parents.” Sokka said as a smile came to his face, and you just looked at him with a hopeful smile.

“Really?” You asked as you looked at him, searching his face for any sign that he was lying.

“Yeah, I promise.” He said with a small nod.

“Thank you Sokka.” You said as you pulled him into a hug, the smile on your face only growing at the thought of maybe finding your real parents. You may not have known Sokka or Katara for that long, but you felt a bond with them, sure you felt a bond with Aang as well, but it was different with Sokka and Katara. It was like you had known them your whole life, and even in the few weeks you had spent together they were already starting to become like family.

Part 4

@cal-pal-cuddles @rosesfromcth @tpwkcal @caswinchester2000 @frickin-bats @winchestergirl907 @eridanuswave @the-firebender-girl @myarthetics @royahllty @izzieserra @akariblue @coldlilheart @thirstyforsometea 

[ask-iamnotanalicorn]

Previous: The King Sombra Timeline The Changeling Times Timeline

Equestria has been occupied. Changelings, creatures who can take on the shape and voice of anypony, anyone. Monsters who feed on love. They’d infiltrated Equestria seemingly overnight, sinking their roots into every settlement and city like a creeping plague, capturing important officials, leaders, heads of clans, and replacing them or holding them outright hostage. They did not reveal themselves until the fall of Canterlot, and by then, it was too late.

Their demands are simple in their cruelty: Obey the new changeling overlords without question. Do not try to reunite with missing loved ones; they had been taken, trapped in the cocoons that leeched their love to feed the hive. Know that anyone could be a changeling in disguise, and be assured that disobedience would be punished - there was always a need for more love, and having it forcibly drained from you was much worse than losing it unawares.

Featherhorn received warning before the coup was sprung. Not enough to get everyone out - some stayed to hold off the swarm that came once their infiltrators were unmasked, giving time for rest of the town to escape. Pitch Black led their meager forces, along with his father Sales Patter, Press’s husband Curler, Camera Shy, and other brave stallions and mares. Sales would have stayed, but Black and Sales Patter made him promise to get the rest of the town away.

Only a few managed to meet up with the townsponies later. Some of those were not who they said. But some were. Sales Patter gave the story - the majority had been captured and taken away. A few of their own had been changelings even before the attack. But their fight was not in vain.

The Featherhorn refugees were blessed to have a few zebras with them - one of them knew the recipe for the magical poultice that reveals a creature’s true nature. Their group was one of the larger rebellious parties starting out, because they had had warning; but this made them vulnerable, easier to find, and so they went deeper into the forests until they could find some way to defeat the monsters. Slowly, though, they began to pick up other stragglers, organize themselves, become a force that could not be easily found and would not be easily taken when they were.

They have not given up. Sales has not given up. Somewhere out there, Pitch Black, Curler, Cam, and the rest are still alive, still needing saving. And he hopes to not see their faces again until the changelings are overthrown, or he sees them rescued and wearing the zebra poultice with his own two eyes.

Because the changelings can wear anyone’s face. And they prefer to wear the faces of those you trust the most.

----

Fun Facts About The Changeling Times Story/Art:

- I figure there aren’t nearly enough Changelings to forcibly subdue ALL the ponies and other creatures in Equestria; they are only one city-sized hive, after all. That led to a combination of the Canterlot assault and the Season 6 finale - the changelings secretly replacing important ponies until they could confidently reveal themselves and assume control through threats and fear.

- Chrysalis’s rule is in a fast-decaying state - she has the power she craved, but the fear and paranoia used to control the populace is rapidly stifling their love even for each other, diminishing the changelings’ food supply. There are still A LOT of ponies, so it will take a long time to reach starvation levels, but things are already teetering. And the more ponies she pods as love batteries (the pods give them dreams of things they love, and the changelings siphon that off) to offset this decline, the more unrest she creates, and the more unstable her rule becomes.

- There are some changelings who formed genuine friendships with ponies during their longer infiltrations leading up to the invasion and then chose the ponies over their queen. (There is no “hive mind” in this universe, just a strong sense of instinctive loyalty that can be overcome.) They have to stay in their natural forms at all times while among the refugees, but the most trusted act as scouts and suppliers. Sales has a very hard time trusting them for a while.

- Nightmare Moon was rebanished, Discord has not escaped, but the Crystal Empire will return shortly. The conflict between Chrysalis and Sombra distracts her enough for the ponies to overthrow Chrysalis. They receive help from within.

- Thorax is part of the group that reclaims the Crystal Heart and breaks enough crystal ponies free of their mind control helmets to activate it, banishing Sombra. It is during this mission that Thorax discovers the secret of giving love, starting off Great Change and ascending him to kingship. 

- Acceptance of the reformed changelings and the crystal ponies takes a much longer time after the occupation/war than it did in the show, but it does happen eventually.

- I discovered while making these that I could use an almost invisible color gradient over the art to give them it a faint, unifying hue. I think it really helps with balancing the whole image and copying the feel given off in the show! Obviously, this one uses the color green. 

Ha, the notes ended up being longer than the story entry this time! Some of this stuff I literally thought up while I was writing. XD Hope ya’ll are enjoying this series, I worked really hard on these pictures and I’ve been excited about finally sharing them with you guys. Thanks again to ReversalMushroom for his Patreon support and commission that made this alternate timeline series possible!

~River Babble

Next Week: Eternal Night

[stagbells]

Written Work

From: @grollow

To: @flame-flygon

Written work under the readmore!

It’s been almost a year since Hollow got freed from the Black Egg. The year had been long, and their recovery process had felt even longer, but they’re in a far better and happier place then they were in those first few months of freedom. They had slept a lot back then, both their body and mind needing as much rest as it could in order to heal. They no longer had to feel wary of dreams entering their sleep for the dream god herself had been killed - banished from existence for good. It was relieving to them; they could slip into peaceful darkness for as long as they wished with nothing to fear, although the occasional nightmare, courtesy of the Nightmare King himself, would sneak up on them. Their siblings had helped them throughout their entire recovery as well. Their patience and understanding and love had meant more to Hollow than they will ever know. Although they had seemingly been recovering fine, there were still a few wounds left that was going to take longer to heal. Because of how long they stayed in the Black Egg, and because the Egg had been relatively small and dark and cramped, they no longer felt comfortable traversing through small spaces. It made traveling hard for them, as the direct area underneath the well is the Forgotten Crossroads, an area made almost exclusively of small tunnels, and to get to anywhere else in the Kingdom you had to go through there. They could’ve chosen to ride on the Stag - the last known alive transportation that wasn’t buried deep beneath the wastelands, but the Stag’s winding roads were also tunnels, smaller and narrower ones at that. Ghost hadn’t been too perturbed, however. They wanted their big sibling to explore the Kingdom like they had - though they figured Hollow had already done that years prior - and introduce them to the still remaining lives of those who had survived the infection scattered across the place. They knew they had to go about it slowly; despite their excitement they would rather not put Hollow in a situation they don’t want to be in. So that’s what they did. They started slow. Hollow began getting used to the crossroads simply by just standing next to the rope that hung down from the well. They didn’t move at first, instead focusing on their surroundings and letting themself take in the dark area. They didn’t move ahead for the first few days, but Ghost didn’t mind. They kept them company. Eventually they started moving - left, never right, never towards the Temple - their first ever destination being the spot where the Grubfather rested. To Ghost’s surprise, all the children he had consumed had turned into small butterflies of their own, the father acting like some sort of cocoon for them. Luckily for him, it seemed like they were able to leave his body without harming him. Lucky for Ghost too, they don’t think Hollow would want to ever come back down if they had seen a horrifying corpse during their first few days. Over time Hollow got more and more confident moving through the tunnels. They weren’t completely used to it, they don’t think they’ll ever truly get comfortable with it either if they had to be honest, but they had managed to make it all the way to Salubra, definitely a unique character in their opinion, within two weeks of their hesitant journey, and that in and of itself is something to celebrate. Ghost had asked them during one of their resting days if they wanted to go to Greenpath with them someday. Apparently, there’s a few people there that they wanted their sibling to see, and had assured them that Greenpath is a lot more spacious and freeing than the crossroads are. Hollow knew that already, but wasn’t quite sure if they were allowed to step foot into the territory. Pale King had taken part of Greenpath to turn into a massive garden area for their mother, and so Hollow was allowed to roam the gardens but wasn’t permitted to go into Unn’s still controlled area. They weren’t sure if they should take Ghost up on their offer. Then again, Hollow had always loved the green lucious plant life surrounding the place. They don’t exactly want to step into their mother's place at the moment - they’re not yet ready to see the Queen herself - but they do want to see green again. Their favorite color. They had decided to go with Ghost after all, even if they were barred by merit of being the King’s heir, they figured they really had nothing else to lose by disobeying rules. Besides, they remember Unn being extremely kind and patient towards them as a child, and they’re hopeful that that hasn’t changed now that they’re an adult.

They both venture out to Greenpath the next day, slowly and methodically traversing down the crossroad’s platforms to make it to the promise of plants poking through the cement cracks right at the entrance. Hollow feels excited. Dirtmouth, while peaceful and quiet, doesn’t have a lot of color to it unfortunately. The most colorful part of the town belongs to the deep red of the Grimm Troupe’s tents, and they don’t know how long that will stay for. They’ve longed to see a vibrant color again. Ghost holds onto a piece of their cloak - the closest they can get to holding their much taller sibling’s hand, and walks with them down the cobblestone path and into the new territory. The grass feels soft under their feet, and surrounding them is an array of colorful flowers and plants, their petals swaying to the gentle breeze. They both pause when Hollow spots a purple flower, it’s petals not the biggest they’ve seen but they hold it up to their mask and smell it anyway. It’s sweet and good and they look down at their sibling who stares back curiously. Hollow leans down and hands the flower to them, wanting them to smell the aroma as well. Ghost doesn’t know why they got handed the flower, but after a few moments of staring at it they slowly push the bulb and stem right into one of their eye sockets, absorbing the nutrients and effectively eating the flower. It tasted like slippery grass. Ghost liked it. Hollow is horrified. They both continue walking forward, this moment forever stained into Hollow’s mind. They reach an opening into the wider area of Greenpath. Bushes line along the path, buzzing with life and movement. Although this place is underground, it almost gives off an illusion of a sky that’s never ending. The air is a lot warmer than the crossroads, but not too much that it’s uncomfortable. It’s probably warmed up because of the acid pools right underneath the passages, but Hollow figures that if they wanted to they could curl up on the ground and take a nice nap. As they walk further down, Ghost telling them that they should meet their “hunter” friend, a very slight and startled chirp sound chitters in a path of grass next to them. Both of the vessels look down at it, and to Hollow’s surprise the grass starts moving on it’s own. It starts going toward them very slowly, almost shyly, and they stare back at it but don't move. They can’t remember grass walking ever in their life, but then again they remember the tip of Hegemol’s mace turning out to be a bug he made friends with long ago, so they know that anything can move with enough sentience even if it shouldn’t be possible. They hope that in this case the grass is also a bug, and not some sort of unknown terrible green fungus that can move. Seeing how Hollow hasn’t budged an inch, Ghost helpfully moves forward and scoops the grass in their arms. While they’re strong enough to carry it, the bug itself still happens to be big enough that their entire head is almost hidden by the grass. Hollow chooses at this moment to sit down for now, wanting to get a closer look at the thing Ghost is holding but also mostly wanting to rest their legs from the long journey. Ghost walks over to them and gently places the grass in their lap, patting both it and Hollow comfortingly to prevent either of them from getting nervous. Hollow looks down at it only to find two beady black eyes staring back at them. “This is a mosscreep,” Ghost explains. Hollow stares back at the mosscreep, their nerves calming somewhat as the bug doesn’t do anything. It seems to be non threatening, which is fine with them. They’ve met too many aggressive sorts in their life. The mosscreep chirps at them and, even though Hollow can’t understand them, they chirp back. They must’ve said something correct cause the creature suddenly turns over on it’s back, purring. To Hollow’s joy, they find very tiny black legs poking out from it’s grass fur, and they hesitantly go and pat it’s stomach. The mosscreep purrs louder, and they relax considerably. Ghost takes in the interaction, feeling content at the apparent bonding between the two. Hollow had always been so shy, it was welcoming seeing them respond so positively to a small little thing like a mosscreep. Hollow looks back at them, politely patting a spot next to them in an invitation for Ghost to sit down. They don’t hesitate to accept, hurriedly walking over and plopping down next to them. They lean over to pat the mosscreep as well, almost snuggling right into Hollow’s side as they did so. “Do you think we can keep it?” Hollow asks after a few quiet moments. They carefully run their slender fingers through the tufts of moss, noticing how weirdly solid the body underneath was. Ghost nodded. “I don’t think sister would mind.” “That’s good.” “If she says ‘no’ I’ll smuggle it in for you.” “I know.” Ghost snuggles against Hollow’s leg, the warmth of the air and the comfort of their sibling slowly starting to make them drowsy. Hollow feels a unique warmth blossom throughout their chest, a feeling of happiness almost overflowing from them. They think their recovery is worth it if it means they get to experience moments like this.

[luxaofhesperides]

those were beautiful dreams

 happy birthday @calormen!!! i hope u enjoy this angst fic and have a really nice bday!!

this is also on ao3 for easier reading! . . .

The air in England feels heavy. There’s a smog always hanging over the skyline, settling into his chest as an unbearable weight, like a stone pressed over his ribs. The ever present noise of chatter and movement stifles everything else and without anything to focus on, it’s dizzying. He remembers this; it’s always been like this, buzzing with energy and loud and heavy. He remembers how he’s missed it those first few weeks in the countryside where they were safe from the bombings.

Now, Edmund desperately wishes to leave England.

It’s not the world’s that’s changed, but him, through three lifetimes of joy and heartbreak. And though he longs to leave and settle somewhere familiar, nowhere resembles Narnia. Even the countryside and the manor felt wrong; a stillness in the air that set his nerves on edge, always a sign of some oncoming danger that never revealed itself.

Edmund, now and again and again, is just a boy trapped in the wrong everything.

It would hurt more if he was alone. It still hurts.

Peter and Lucy turn to each other; they’ve always been a pair. Peter looking out for Lucy and Lucy looking up to Peter. They speak of Narnia in fond tones, always when no one else is there to hear what they speak of, and the memories they have only become stronger when shared.

He used to have that bond with Susan. Used to.

The first time they came back to England, Susan had found him unable to sleep and took his hand in hers. She said, “It’s alright. We can do this again. We’ll help each other through it all until we learn how to live again.”

After a lifetime of sharing fears and nightmares, defending each other against those who refused to accept who they were, shared in the delight of a world that let them be who they are. The despair of coming back to world that only wanted to hurt them, one where hiding was survival and honesty was condemnation, Edmund couldn’t understand how he would live knowing something better was possible.

But Susan was there, just as she always was. She was there until Aslan told her and Peter they would never return, and she walked out into that train station and left him behind.

Edmund looks at Susan and desperately wishes to go back in time to a place where they stuck together and shared stories of Narnia just to find hope in this world. Susan keeps her door closed and never comes down to the kitchen in the middle of the night. It’s only Edmund who cannot sleep.

And so he remembers, but he remembers alone.

   It starts a week after their coronation.

Everything before had been a whirlwind of movement and fear. This is the first time he is able to rest, and with it, able to think.

He wonders if he will ever see his parents again. If he will ever be able to go home. He wonders if he wants too.

It feels like there is a noose around his neck these days, and every breath is a struggle. The guilt of betraying his siblings when all he wanted was someone to care, the chill of the ice that seeps into his bones, the feel of his blood on his hand as he lay dying on a battlefield, just a child caught up in the struggles of higher powers.

He wonders how any of the Narnians can stand to see him.

Rather than deal with nightmares for another night, Edmund instead chooses to wander the quiet halls of Cair Paravel, slowly becoming familiar to him. The guards nod to him as he passes, and Edmund hurries past them, unable to look them in the eyes.

Not a single one asks why he’s up. Why would they? He’s one of their kings, of all things, and so he is free to do as he please. Edmund wishes, not for the first time, that he could be just a child again.

He stops in a private courtyard, tucked away between wildly growing bushes and doric columns that line the edges. It’s an ideal place to hide, somewhere people know to look when they need to find him, but somewhere people rarely intrude.

But someone is already here. At the edge of the fountain in the middle of the courtyard sits Susan, with a shawl given to her by the Beavers wrapped around her.

“Ed,” she says, standing, “What are you doing still up at this hour?”

“I could be asking you the same thing,” he answers.

She sits back down and says nothing more. Edmund wishes she would smile again. She looks so much like their mother; worried, with her brow always furrowed, arms crossed defensively over her chest. But her eyes carry the same sadness of their father.

He takes a seat next to her. “I have no idea what we’re doing here.”

“Kings and queens, can you imagine? And yet,” she sighs, “Here we are. Somehow.”

“Should we try to go back home?”

“I… I don’t know. Part of me wants to, but it would just be going back into war. We may not fight in that one, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s happening. Narnia is in peace now. I want to hide away for a little longer.”

“We can,” Edmund says, “But I don’t feel like I deserve to.”

Susan turns to him with a frown. “If you are blaming yourself for the actions of Jadis, you better stop before I make you.”

“I still went to her,” he tries to argue, giving voice to one of the many thoughts that has plagued him for the past week. “It was still me who turned my back to the Narnians.”

“You did no such thing! Jadis enchanted you. She gave you sweets and warmth and lied to you, then blinded you with her magic and pulled you away from us. It’s her fault, not yours. How could you have known any better? You’re a kid. We’re all just kids.”

Her voice fades away by the time she stops speaking, hunching in on herself. “Ed, what are we doing? How are we going to rule a country in a world we never knew about before?”

Edmund leans against her; she’s always found comfort in the physical presence of others. Always reaching out and holding them all close.

“I wish I knew,” is all he can say. “I wish I knew.”

She wraps an arm around his shoulder. “At least everyone here is nice,” she says, forcing herself out of her negative thoughts. “They’re all happy to teach me more about Narnia. And the maids they assigned to me were really nice about helping me dress. I surprised them, but they got me new clothes that made me feel pretty. It’s not so uncommon here, people like us.”

“I mean, they gave us weapons. I’m sure they’re going to be fine with a lot of other things too.”

“Shush you, I’m trying to cheer us up.” She shoves him, and when he laughs, Susan finally smiles.

“I know,” he says, “Thanks, Su. I’m glad you’re here with me.”

   Edmund finds her on the balcony, three hours into the ball. He didn’t mean to stumble upon her, but he desperately needed some air, a quiet place where he could gather his thoughts. It seems that Susan beat him to it.

“Ed,” she says, turning around to face him, “I thought you’d be busy dancing.”

“I got tired. Needed some time to rest. What are you doing out here?”

Susan stares out into the distance for a long moment. She’s perfectly still, looking like a sculpture of some mourning maiden. “Hiding, I suppose,” she answers.

“From what?”

“The future.”

Edmund settles against the railing besides her. “Four years since we were crowned,” he muses, “We’ve changed quite a lot, don’t you think?”

“Have you thought about England recently? Of going back, of our parents. Anything.”

“No. I haven’t thought about it in a long time.” It surprises him, to hear Susan speak of England. To hear England at all. He’s fully settled into Narnia, where the language rolls smoothly off his tongue and the weight of a sword is familiar in his hand. England almost feels like a dream now; of giant stone buildings and skies full of smoke, trains and cars and only people filling the streets. His memories of England are colorless and painful.

He’s had every reason to forget England, and none to remember it.

“What brought this on?” Edmund asks, breaking the silence again.

“Someone asked for my hand in marriage.”

“Someone what?!”

Susan smiles just a little at his shock. “Yes, it appears that I am now old enough to be courted. I hadn’t thought of it before. Or, I thought of it back in England, before we came here, and now I can’t really imagine what the future will look like.”

“Oh.” Marriage. That’s something he hasn’t thought about at all. He’s been so focused on keeping Narnia safe, helping all who sought his aide, looking after the those who were forgotten. He never believed that anyone would want him in that way and banished that line of thought from his mind entirely. But now…

“What are you going to do?” he asks before he can get lost in his thoughts, as he tends to do.

“I said no, of course. I don’t think I’m ready yet. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

“We’re still young,” Edmund says, “You have time.”

“Peter’s been asked too,” she remarks casually, “But he didn’t notice. Mentioned it to me and was shocked when I told them what they were really asking.”

“That sounds like him.”

“Ed?”

He looks at her. “Yeah?”

Susan looks up at the stars, head tilted back. Her hair has grown long over the years, tumbling down her back and ending at her hips. It shocks him to realize how much she’s changed. How much they’ve all changed.

Their parents wouldn’t recognize them anymore. The thought doesn’t hurt at all. It doesn’t make him feel anything. But none of them had had parents in a long time. He wonders if Lucy even remembers their mother’s face.

“Ed,” Susan says again, “Are you happy?”

He looks back into the ballroom, full of light and music, where couples twirl and laugh and sing. He looks out over the lands he can see from the balcony, green and prosperous. He looks at Susan, who holds herself tall and carries an air of confidence that only really emerged in Narnia.

“I am. I think I am. Are you?”

“I’m getting there.”

   The arrow nearly hits him. It doesn’t, of course, because Susan is the one shooting and her aim is impeccable.

Peter and Lucy are known to be reckless and pull incredible stunts while training just because they can, so Susan and Edmund are known as the rational ones. But those who know them better know that they are just as reckless as Lucy and Peter, just quieter about it.

Edmund readies his sword again, eyes on Susan as she nocks another arrow.

She is still, gauging the distance between them, then moves suddenly and lets loose the arrow.

The moment the arrow goes flying, Edmund moves, swinging his sword upwards in a quick slash, then bringing it back down again.

At his feet is another arrow, cut in two.

“Shall we stop here for today?” Edmund asks, sheathing his sword. The sun is high above them, steadily shining at its zenith. There are only a few clouds in the sky, and so the few hours of training has their faces flush and sweat dripping down their cheeks.

“Yes, it’s about time for lunch.” Susan slings her bow over her shoulder and wipes her face with her sleeve. “I’ll be sure to catch something tomorrow with my aim. Even if it’s not the white stag.”

“Save some confidence for the rest of us, will you?”

“As if you need a bigger head.”

Susan laughs when he jokingly pushes her away, and tosses her braid back over her shoulder. A few faun children wave at them as they pass, grinning widely and jumping to get their attention. Susan smiles back as Edmund waves, and the children giggle as they go back to their game, filling the space with their laughter.

“It’s been so nice lately,” Edmund comments. “No threats, no diplomatic guests coming, no horrible tragedy coming to strike us down.”

“Quiet enough to let us have some fun. I hope it stays like this for a while longer.”

“I’m sure it will. I can hear you start to worry, Su. Stop thinking so much about the future and just focus on enjoying this hunt.”

She sighs, but relents. “I suppose you’re right.”

“It’s been known to happen, yes.”

“Shush. Well, we’ll only be out for a few days and we’ll be able to ride back quickly enough should something come up. This will be a nice break.”

Edmund hmms a quiet agreement, and looks over the busy halls of Cair Paravel. It’s always lively during the day, full of knights training and staff organizing the castle. But there is a lightness to everyone as they move. A light in every eye. Compared to the stress of the first few years of their reign, when Jadis’ supporters continued to cause trouble, where each Narnian was on the lookout for the next disaster, now there is a calm that allows everyone to smile more easily. The peace has settled into the foundations of the land and it truly is a Golden Age they live in.

Edmund looks upon all this, and thinks that though he is excited to have a break and leave the castle with just his siblings, he’ll always be happy to return home.

Of course, none of them know yet of the lamppost in the forest, one they’ve long since forgotten, or the world that waits for them still on the other side of the wardrobe. None of them are prepared for the guilt and heartache that comes from unwillingly abandoning the world they cared for so dearly. None of them know yet the feeling of looking at the reflection of themselves and seeing a child they can’t recognize. But that is a story for another day.

   He hasn’t seen Susan in decades. Susan hasn’t seen him for a year. The distance between them is larger than ever.

Part of him wishes he could blame her for turning her backs on them. For refusing to remember Narnia and avoiding them as much as possible in order to form new relationships in this world. But Edmund understands Susan, always has, more than Peter and Lucy. The two middle children, often overlooked and forgotten, who turned to each other for support.

Now, it’s just Edmund, alone, as Susan spends another night out.

He had tried to tell her about his time in Narnia, the life he’s lived, the love he’s held. But the moment he mentioned that he grew old and had children and grandchildren in Narnia, Susan had looked at him coldly, and told him to stop daydreaming so much.

She left, and none of them have seen her since.

Lucy reassures him that Susan has been home; she’s grabbed her library books and another set of clothes early in the morning before leaving again. Lucy also tells him that he can talk to her, that she wants to know about his last time in Narnia after she and Eustace left.

But it’s not quite the same.

So Edmund spends another night unable to sleep, struggling to find his footing in a world he left behind two times over, when the front door opens.

Susan comes in, pulling her hair out of a ponytail and toeing off her shoes. She barely glances at him as she grabs a cup and puts on the kettle.

Neither of them speak.

Edmund carefully keeps his gaze on the table, no longer able to break the silence between them. The stillness of the kitchen settles like a noose around his neck. It’s something he hasn’t felt in a long time; the tightness of his throat, the heaviness in his chest, the way the world seemed to press down on his shoulders until he couldn’t move at all.

Is it guilt or fear? They’ve always felt the same to him.

“Fifty years,” Susan says, and the suddenness makes Edmund flinch. “You come up with the strangest things.”

“I was happy there. I wasn’t alone.”

“It doesn’t do anyone any good for you to be stuck in your daydreams. You should focus on what’s in front of you. I’m sure someone will catch your fancy.”

Edmund bristles at that; she dismisses him so casually, as though anyone could replace Caspian. He bites his tongue and keeps his silence.

She sighs. The kettle begins to whistle, and she quickly takes it off the heat. “I’m just trying to help you.”

There is nothing to say to that. He knows she is. Knows she’s determined to live another life here and refuses to let grief pull her down. But she’s forgetting everything they shared together, and that is what hurts him the most.

“I never really took you as the sort who would want kids. Tell me about your daydreams. They sound nice.”

He wants to. He almost does.

But.

They’re not daydreams, and talking about the people he loves as though they’re not real isn’t something he’s capable of. It isn’t something he wants to be capable of.

“It’s late,” Edmund says instead, “Goodnight Su.”

   Two years after the funeral, Susan finally has the courage to open the boxes that hold her families belongings. Five boxes were all that were left after she sold the houses and the furniture and most of the clothes. Five boxes that were left to gather dust in her attic before she finally decided to open them.

She finds sketchbooks filled with fauns and dryads and centaurs. Lucy’s work, which she was so proud of. Peter’s novels, with comments written in the margin, full of questions that were never answered. A favorite blanket, a stack of cards that have been painted over, pictures and memories.

Susan doesn’t cry.

There’s a wrapped present in the bottom of one of the boxes. To Susan, says Lucy’s handwriting. She always got people’s birthday gifts early and waited impatiently until she could give it.

Susan hasn’t celebrated her birthday for a few years. It always hurt too much.

The present is a shawl, and it resembles the one the Beaver’s had given her years (decades, lifetimes) ago. She doesn’t notice how hard she’s gripping the shawl until a tear lands on her right hand and makes her look down. Carefully, Susan wraps it around herself, and thinks back to all the times she wore it, sitting on the fountain in the courtyard.

Edmund often appeared there late at night. He’d keep her company until they nearly talked themselves to sleep. She wonders if he remembered it. He remembered a lot. He’s always had a good memory.

Not that it matters now. She’s the only one carrying these faded memories, holding onto the last remnants of her family.

The last box she opens is full of journals. Lucy’s, Peter’s, and Edmund’s. Most are Edmund’s.

Reading them doesn’t feel right, but these are the only things that still carries their voices, and Susan wants desperately to hear them again.

So she takes a few days off work, reads through them with careful fingers, and takes care not to let any tears ruin the pages.

Lucy writes of dryads and mermaids, her longing for the sea, how she spends every day searching for another way back. Peter writes of doubt and restlessness, feeling distance between himself and his peers, wanting to help in any way he can.

And Edmund.

His life is documented with care, written in his steady hand. The bombings, Jadis, the coronation. Sleepless nights, battles, and a white stag. Caspian and his children and his grandchildren and a whole life Susan refused to listen to because her own hurt blinded her to his.

Caspian sent me off and I found myself walking to the kitchen where Eustace was. I laughed when he startled, but the pain of leaving Narnia behind swallowed me whole. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I remember the first time we came back, all of us, and Susan and I turned to each other. We worked together often and shared so many memories.

It helped, not being so alone back then. But this time, after decades and a year, Susan left and I had no one else. I understand why she did it. Susan has always been the type to distract herself from pain by working herself to the bone. But I was in an unfamiliar world with a family I hadn’t seen for a lifetime.

I should have known things would change. I just wish they hadn’t.

Susan, don’t be alone. I know I will never be able to say this to you, but please don’t forget. Our memories in Narnia are all we have of each other now. And no matter what, remember that we all love you. We always will.

The last journal read, the last box opened. Susan weeps, grieves for two lifetimes lost, grieves for a family pushed away, and finally stops lying to herself.

And so she remembers, but she remembers alone.

[bluesey-182]

here’s another jurdan fic for you guys lol: 

People talked about the stages of grief as if they were a linear progression when in reality they showed up when they pleased in whatever order they saw fit. Jude seemed to swing violently from one stage to another. One moment she’d be a raging fire breaking whatever was closest to her and throwing her ring with enough force to chip the paint on her bedroom wall, the next she’d be scrambling to find it again and clutch it to her chest while she sobbed until the daylight left her room. She largely ignored Vivi’s attempts to cheer her up or get her off the couch. Sometimes her older sisters’ attempts at cheerfulness were met with bitter shouts. Sometimes Vivi would not so kindly pull the blankets off Jude only for Jude to continue to stare lifelessly into space.

For the first few weeks Vivi left Jude to grieve however she needed to. That was until the night Jude got her hands on some alcohol and ended up with alcohol poisoning, a broken mirror, and a fight with Vivi in the bathroom while Jude clutched a broken part of the mirror and screamed while Vivi held her down. After Jude stopped struggling she sobbed to her older sister that the girl in the mirror said he was in her veins and she just wanted him out. She just wanted him out. After that, Vivi refused to leave her in the apartment alone.

At night Jude plotted out ways to kill Cardan until her numbness and anger broke and she was left sobbing and wishing he would just hold her in a very un-Cardan-like way. She wanted to go home. The problem was that now, technically, she was home. 

But she wasn’t with him.

After two months of this, Vivi decided it was time for Jude to get a job. She burst into their apartment where Jude had been watching TV with Oak to very proudly brandish a sheet of paper in Jude’s face.

“It’s perfect!” Vivienne shrieked with over-the-top excitement. Jude tried her best to stare passed it at the TV. “Jude.”

“What,” she responded flatly.

“Look at this.”

She finally looked up with a huff to tell Vivi exactly how she felt about being disturbed. But before she could actually read it for herself, Vivi flipped the paper over so Jude was looking at the back.

“There’s this thing called the Renaissance festival,” Vivi began explaining animatedly, “and it’s in town right now. Heather used to talk about it all the time before… Anyway, they’re looking for some extra people to hire and I figured you could apply to be one of those people that teaches people how to fight with swords. I think it will be good for you.”

Jude felt her cheeks warm with displeasure.

———

She had been reduced to this.

Jude Duarte, seneschal of the King and then made Queen of Elfhame, had been reduced to picking up trash and repainting the signs at the Renaissance festival–which was, at best, a poor imitation of the dress and lifestyle that she had spent the formative years of her life immersed in. It was ridiculous and it made her miss home even more. Vivi was wrong, this wasn’t helping.

On top of that, Jude quickly discovered that she wasn’t nice enough for the mortal world. When a boy her age tried to hit on her she snarled until he went away. When a younger girl accidently hit Jude’s hand with a wooden sword while Jude was trying to teach her how to use it, she yelled until the girl cried. Her boss quickly suggested that maybe she was “more fit for doing maintenance work” where she “wouldn’t be interacting with the people”. Which was how she ended up repainting a sign that some idiot kids had vandalized overnight. 

Oh, how far she had fallen. 

“Yo dude!” She heard someone yell from behind her. She was about to turn around when the man’s voice finished with “Those are some sick elf ears!” and she decided the voice was not talking to her. 

As she continued to slap red paint onto the wooden sign before her some other exclamations joined in with the first. 

“–don’t have tails,” finished one.

“–get it to move?” drifted another.

“Where did you get–” began a third.

And then, worst of all, the voice from both her dreams and her nightmares said, “Jude.”

Her blood ran cold. In her head she could see him, dressed in his splendid yet ridiculous clothes with that crown askew on his gorgeous hair above those haunting eyes that pierced through her soul no matter how many walls she tried to put up. But this was not, could not, be happening. When she turned around he would not be standing there with his stupid pointed ears and that fucking tail and those dark eyes.

She turned around.

Cardan was standing there. She blinked, and blinked, and blinked again for good measure and yet he still stood there–appearing like the ghost her heart had been calling for in the night.

“Jude,” he repeated.

“What the fuck are you doing here.” It wasn’t a question, more a command, though Jude knew he didn’t have to follow hers anymore.

“We need to talk.” 

“We don’t need to do anything. In case you forgot, you banished me from faerie.”

He looked around them briefly. “We’re not in faerie.”

“Oh! You’re right, how silly of me? We’re in the mortal realm,” her voice dripped with so much icy sarcasm she could feel it burning her throat. Or were those tears? “And come to think of it, I’m a mortal and you made me Queen so I hereby banish Cardan Greenbriar from the mortal realm.”

Cardan closed his eyes for a second as if he were about to lose his temper. “With that one phrase you are so close to understanding something that’s been right in front of your face this whole time.”

She felt her face heat. “Are you calling me stupid?”

“I did not think you were but you are beginning to prove otherwise.”

There was a satisfying wet slap that echoed through her ears as she threw a fistful of paint onto the King of Elfhame’s face. She had nearly forgotten the can of paint in her hands but as her vision turned red her hands took control and before she knew it Cardan’s face was painted red as well. She laughed, but when it reached her ears it didn’t sound like hers. 

All she felt was anger. Anger at him for hurting her, anger at herself for caring, anger at Madoc for bringing her to faerie in the first place. But more than anything she felt anger at the universe for letting her fall for Cardan. It was too much. She threw more paint on him.

By now Cardan was shaking with his own anger and Jude felt some satisfaction at making him feel even an ounce of what she’d felt since he exiled her. 

This time her laugh was cut short by something cold splashing down the front of her shirt. With a gasp Jude looked down at her white tee to see it stained with red. The bastard had thrown paint on her. Sure enough, there he stood with his hand covered in the offending color and that wicked grin on his face. She was loathe to admit she missed that grin.

“You don’t get the send me away from the only home I remember just to show up at my job to make me miserable again!” She shrieked and punctuated the last word with another glob of paint thrown at him. 

“If you would stop acting like a child and listen to me,” Cardan growled but was cut off by more paint in his face.

“I don’t want to listen to you. For the longest time I wanted an explanation, but now I just want you gone.” 

Jude began to notice from the corner of her eye that they were drawing a crowd. 

“Jude-”

“LEAVE!”

“Jude, stop-”

“Go back to ruling your faerie subjects and leave me alone!”

“Jude!”

She threw more paint at him. “You gave me hope! You made me think I could be safe again and then you tossed me out like I meant nothing!”

“And you killed my brother!”

Silence fell between them. Jude heard a collective intake from the crowd around them and realized with a brief glance in their direction that they thought this was some kind of act. With talk of faerie and murder, how could they think anything else?

She stepped dangerously close to him and lowered her voice, making sure every word would cut like a knife. “Yes, Cardan,” she growled sweetly, “I killed your brother. He made me kiss him while he thought I was under his control and he treated me like I was his pet. So yes, when he came at me and I realized it was him or me, I decided he should be the one to die.”

With each word his eyes seemed to get impossibly wider–her words hitting their mark exactly as intended. But instead of feeling victorious, Jude just felt empty. 

“Tell me you would rather I have died,” she demanded.

No response.

Jude shook her head and took a measured step away from him. “That’s what I thought.” She felt her shoulders fall, her eyes water over, as she whispered, defeated, “Please just leave.”

Before he could respond though a voice boomed from behind her, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?” She spun around–mostly so she wouldn’t have to keep looking at Cardan as the tears in her eyes spilled over–to see her boss storming towards them. His vein comically bulged out of his forehead. When he finally got up to her he snarled, “You’re fired. Get the fuck out of here. Both of you!” This last part he directed at Cardan.

“No problem,” Jude snapped as she thrust the bucket of paint–or what was left of it–into her bosses hands. Without turning to see if Cardan was following her, she began to stomp her way to the gates of the fair. She hated the tears streaking her face. Hated how they kept falling faster. She just wanted out but she also didn’t want to be anywhere. She was tired. So tired. 

She began to run. She ran until she was through the gate, ran till she reached the parking lot, ran until her lungs ached, ran until she couldn’t see passed her tears any longer. With each sob she could feel her heart breaking (impossibly) more, could feel the shards stabbing into her insides until she thought for sure she would bleed out. 

But even with her break-neck pace, faeries were still faster and Cardan soon caught up to her. His hand closed around her upper arm and demanded her to stop in her tracks or else topple over. Resentfully, she stopped and spun around to face him and with all the anger and hurt inside her she shoved him against his chest. Hard. Yet he barely staggered back. Still, it felt good to release that pent up energy. She shoved him again. He continued to stand there without any hint of defending himself.

“Fight! Back!” With each word she shoved him again and when she was met with no response, she hit her open palm against his chest. “Fight me back!”

“No, Jude.”

“Do it!” 

Blindly, she continued to push against his chest, each shove getting weaker than the last. Finally, his arms went around her so he was holding her from behind as her knees gave out. Though his grip wasn’t overbearing, she was crying hard enough that she couldn’t unpin her arms from where he held them to her sides. He fell to his knees as she collapsed onto the ground and held her as she sobbed and stopped struggling against him. She could feel his heart hammering against her spine and she tried to will it to stop. Just stop already. Emotions warred inside her. She both wanted to curl up further into his arms and stab him in the throat. In the end, she did the former.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered so quietly she wasn’t sure if he even really said it. “I can explain. Come home, Jude. Come home.”

[rational-mastermind]

It Doesn’t Hurt

Ch 1/5

Hurt/Comfort. A Trilbhan (Trilby x Siobhan) fanfic taking place after Trilby’s Notes. Warnings of suicidal thoughts and depression (in later chapters) and blood. But I mean.. If you’re into this series you’re sure as fuck not squeamish.

--

 It's been a few months since the Clanbronwyn Hotel incident. The events that took place there still haunts me to this day and my reputation around the Ministry of Occultism hadn't gotten any better, now that I'm responsible for the permanent decommissioning of two agents, Andrew Jarvis and Lenkmann. Granted, most forgave the latter, as he not only threatened my life but was a part of an insane cult named The Blessed Agonies. But AJ…

 Ever since my first day I was referred to as "the one who killed AJ". As if it wasn't bad enough bearing the responsibility of killing the man to begin with. As well as bearing the responsibility of three other deaths, Philip Harty, Simone Taylor, and Abed Chahal.

 A week or two after the Hotel Incident, I attended Dr. Chahal's funeral. At a distance, mind you. Somehow knowing why they couldn't find his body and making it a closed casket ceremony made me feel worse, but at least I could properly, discreetly, pay my respects to the man.

 However, seeing his family come to the casket to say their good-byes, forced me to leave. I suppose that's what people call guilt. I was walking out of the building when a familiar voice called out.

 "Terry Railby?"

 I couldn't tell if my initial feeling was one of surprise for being recognized or dread as I, in turn, recognized who it was. I turned around only to find Siobhan O’Malley standing by the doors, looking a little shocked herself. I should've figured she was here, being the late professor's assistant. Still, I was foolish to hope I wouldn't run into someone who would recognize me, let alone know me by the more common alias, Trilby.

 "Siobhan..." I started, unable to mask my surprise.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, rightfully perplexed.

 "Just came to pay my last respect." I said giving a nod to the funeral house behind us. "The least I could do."

 She nodded sadly and folded her arms around her.

 "Same. But… Well I mean.. ", she started to say before smiling back at me. "It's good to see you again."

 "And you as well." I smiled back politely.

 "I was kinda hoping you would show up." She stepped a little closer. "I don't think I thanked ya properly for rescuing me."

 I gave a modest shrug.

 "All in a day's work." I stated, cringing inwardly from how cheesy that sounded.

 "No really." She insisted. "If it weren't for you, it'd be my family in there. At least lemme buy you a drink, as a proper thanks."

 I nodded back to the funeral.

 "Wouldn't you rather say your proper good-bye with everyone else?"

 "Nah. I actually hate funerals. It's like church, but more depressing." Siobhan explained, looking at the ground in thought. "I paid my respects and don't get me wrong, I do miss him but… Well. I know he's not in there. Saying goodbye to an empty casket isn't gonna do me much good is it?"

 She looked back at me sadly. I knew we were both thinking the same thing. We had both seen what really happened to Abed.

 "So come on. Lemme thank ya for saving me from a worse fate, and we'll say a real good-bye instead."

 I don't know what possessed me to agree, but in about 15 minutes, I found myself sitting in a corner booth of a small cafe with Siobhan and a couple of drinks.

 "Here's to a good man." Siobhan tucked away the small flask she used to "fix" her drink, and raised the cup in a small cheers.

 I returned the gesture and we drank.

 "I didn't know you drank." I mentioned.

 "Terry, I am Irish. Of course I do." she chuckled before adding. "Only on occasions."

 I nodded and dropped it. We sat in silence for a while before I decided I should ask the obvious question.

 "So… do you want to talk about Abed?"

 Siobhan sighed a little and shrugged.

 "What can I say?" She asked and looked absent mindedly at her drink. "He was nice. A good professor. Passionate about his work. A nice man overall. I mean.. don't get me wrong, it always hurts to know someone's dead. But well… it's life, isn't it?"

 “That's a very mature way of looking at it." I agreed.

 "Well.. Thanks." She smiled a little, albeit sadly. "Personally I don't think anyone should mourn the dead for too long. It's bound to happen, and it makes life a little brighter to know they were a part of yours. I did. Back at the hotel. But then that was it. Time to move on."

 "Hmm. And where are you moving on to?"

 "Well I finished college last year. I'm planning on opening up an antique shop here in about a month." Siobhan perked up a bit.

 “Well that’s nice to hear.” I smiled more comfortably. “So soon?”

 “Well I've been planning this for a while now." She explained. "It's just now been coming together. And I've already got a decent amount of stock set in storage to get started on."

 "Very smart. Sounds like you have a good head for business."

 She grinned a little.

 "About the only thing I'd be concerned about is if any cat burglars broke in overnight."

 "Hmm. And why would they?" I asked, playing along. "I'd assume anything worthwhile would've already walked out the door."

 Siobhan laughed a little, blushing, and finally dropped the charade.

 "If you mean me, I'm actually going to live in the building. Right above the shop actually."

 "Ah I see." I nodded with understanding, but couldn't resist teasing further. "So there WOULD be a reason for some, tall, dark, handsome, mysterious-"

 "Oh crap Terry!", Siobhan laughed.

 "-sophisticated and impressively dressed gentleman thief to break in"

 Siobhan was trying hard to keep her laughter quiet but it was obviously a strain. Her face started to flush as tears swelled. The reaction caused me to laugh along, equally quiet and strained. It was nice. This frivolous moment of peace. I couldn't remember the last time I laughed like this. It felt good. It felt like such a relief to laugh. I supposed this is what Claire meant by getting a "good vibe" from someone.

 And that was when it dawned on me.

 Oh no.

 Claire.

 Work.

 SHIT.

 I quickly checked my watch and mentally cursed.

 "What's wrong?", Siobhan asked, noticing the sudden shift in behavior.

 "I have somewhere I need to be." I stood up and left a bill for the drinks. "Sorry for leaving so suddenly. It was nice seeing you again."

 "Oh! Um, yeah. It's great to see you!" She said giving a small wave good-bye.

 I hurried out the door. I had just caught myself in time and barely made it back before someone missed me.

 I came into the office and sat down at my desk with a sigh. Just in time. I clocked back in from my computer. Claire, sitting right across from me as usual, looked up from her desk with a smile.

 "So…? Where were you? Missed you at lunch."

 "Had something to attend to."

 "Personal? Or is it a girl?"

 "Wouldn't a girl be personal?" I frowned, quizzically and glanced back at her.

 "You'd be surprised how casual people really are about their love life Trilbs." She rolled her eyes, though still smiled. "It's called socializing."

 "Well I'm not entirely one for doing such, to start with, and secondly, don't call me Trilbs. A nickname of a nickname is ridiculous."

 "Oh fine. You're no fun today." She shook her head and went back to work.

 Any thoughts I did want to have about Siobhan went right out the window. The last thing I needed was office-stereotype-like Claire gossiping my thoughts to the entire department.

 The rest of the day was as normal as it could be and I hadn’t seen Siobhan again for the rest of the month. August passed with almost nothing noteworthy, aside from the occasional ghosts I had to banish and demon slayers I’ve met while working. Then one day, I came into the break room.

 I had been dealing with a woman on the phone who claimed to have seen her dead mother come back to nag her and she wasn’t willing to listen to reasoning. I wasn’t really needing the coffee, though I poured myself a cup regardless. Just needed an excuse more than anything to get away from the griping.

 “Hey Trilby.” one of my co-workers, I believe his name was Darren, came up to me.

 “Good afternoon.”, I greeted, not turning to face him until after I made my cup.

 “Kill anyone lately?”

 My heart stuttered and I looked back to find Lenkmann staring me down, inches from my face. A sudden sharp pain welled up in my abdomen. I screamed in pain and looked down to find blood dripping off my hands.

 It hurts

 Everything was growing dark. There was a scream and I looked up only to find a dead Philip Harty, sprawled out on the dining room table. Simone and Jim were running away into the house.

 It hurts

 I had to chase them down. I had to kill them. I wanted them to suffer. Just like I did.

 It hurts

 I looked down at the floor to find Abed. His porcelain face looked back at me, trying to mouth words but I could only barely understand.

 It hurts

 Pain coursed through every vein of my body and I knew the name of the King.

 IT HURTS

 I was running through the hotel, trying to escape. Sharp, hot, agonizing pain scorched my nerves. The smell of death and blood was everywhere. The darkness around me was growing. I tried to reach out. Siobhan caught my hand. I grabbed her throat and snapped it.

 IT HURTS

 I ran until I tripped on something and fell. Into nothing.

 Into darkness.

                                       Eternity.

                                                                                 On the floor.

 With a gasp of fresh cold air, I woke up on the floor of my apartment, just off my bed. My head hurt with a sharp pain. I likely fell on it first. I quickly checked my body only to find no blood. Just the scar from where I had been stabbed. I sighed. There was a phantom pain there, but it was fading. Why was I? Oh.. Right. The nightmare.

 A pit in my stomach grew. Having a stressful nightmare wasn’t unheard of. You don’t just accept murdering two people under possession and nearly dying. But the last time I had such a vivid dream like that was when…

 “Oh no…” I felt like everything in me suddenly grew cold. “Oh God no. PLEASE NO.”

 I scrambled to look around my apartment for something.

 It wasn’t there. It wasn’t anywhere.

 I hurried to get dressed and ran out the door. Praying I was mistaken.

 I got to the office and came rushing to my desk

 “Trilby? You okay?” Claire asked as I ravaged my drawers, searching frantically.

 “Where is it? Oh crap, WHERE IS IT?!”

 “Trilby, calm down! What are you looking for??”

 “Where the hell is that letter?!”

 “What letter??”

 I slammed my hand on the desk, too flustered and frustrated to listen to her.

 “THE DAMN LETTER FROM NASA, CLAIRE. DID THEY SEND THAT ABOMINATION OUT OR NOT??”

 “That idol? From Defoe?? Yeah, they- Oh, Trilby, calm down they did!”

 She came over and laid a hand on my shoulder. My frantic paranoia was wavering, swaying as she tried to calm me down.

 “Trilby, Trilby, they sent it out.”

 I looked back, still scared.

 “They did?”

 “Yeah, it launched a couple of weeks ago. You got a letter.”

 I started to calm down. I could feel waves of nostalgia and serenity from Claire as she tried to help.

 “They did.. Okay.. O.. okay..” I placed my head in my hands, rubbing away the bags under my eyes. “Holy.. Alright. It was just stress…”

 “Doing better?”

 “Y...yes? No?”

 “Right now?”

 “....Yes. Yes, I’ll be okay.” I sighed. My paranoia and stress melting away. Being replaced with a settled, calm, hollow feeling. Like the still peacefulness of the dark. “I’m… better. I’m sorry.”

 “It’s okay. We all have those days.” Claire reassured me. “So, what happened?”

 “Just another nightmare… I thought.. I was worried that…”, I couldn’t find the words.

 Blurry images of the nightmare flashed through my mind. Growing more distant.

 “You thought you killed someone again?”

 “Y...yeah.” I sighed. “I thought.. The idol…”

 “It was shipped out.. It can’t hurt anyone.”

 “And you’re sure the box wasn’t opened?” “I doubt they would’ve opened it.”

 I sighed with relief.

 “Okay.. Alright.”

 Claire sat down at her desk. I noticed a piece of paper sitting under my monitor and pulled it out, only to find it was, indeed, the letter from NASA. The idol was shipped out. No one had opened the box. I started to ease up. It was okay. Siobhan wasn’t going to be killed. Everything’s alright.

 “Trilby.” one of my higher ups, a short, stocky man with thick round glasses, came and sat a folder down at my desk. I believe his name was Richard. “I’ve got a case for you. Mysterious deaths happening at the same locale. The only person people could have in suspicion, doesn’t add up. Especially cause she phoned in the deaths herself in hysterics, and no one’s that great an actor.”

 “Alright. I’ll uh, take a look at that.” I said, starting up my computer. “Thank you.”

 “We want you to take someone with you. It looks dangerous.”

 “Very well.”

 He left and I looked over the folder. Mysterious deaths happening at an antique store named Rusty Pot o’ Gold. I looked up at Claire. I usually like to go with Chris Quinn, but something told me I was going to need her help in this. Someone who would be a bit more… serious than Chris.

 “Would you like to come, Claire?”

 She looked back, a little surprised, but smiled sincerely.

 “Yeah. Why not?”

 A small drive later, and we arrived at the antique store. The first thing I noticed about it was how new it seemed. I was reminded of Siobhan for a moment.

 For a moment… I was reminded of that nightmare.

 I shook my head, trying to clear it. Nothing like that was going to happen. There are about a dozen antique shops, this side of town. What was one more? No one said this had to be Siobhan’s.

 We walked in, past the police tape and glanced about us. There were dozens of shelves, display cases, and boxes of worn antiques. Everything from hats to farming equipment was found here. Everything was full, cramped, and kind of messy. Admittedly, the owner made it feel homey. The various chandeliers, lamps, and torches, all lit and warming the place while the rugs and strange antiquated china dolls and figurines made it feel almost lived in. I was reminded, for a moment, of visiting my own grandmother’s for the holiday. I would say the shop felt cozy, if it weren’t for the obvious, damp, chill that hung in the air. A first sign of possible specters.

 We started to look around, hoping to find something unusual, or out of place. Something the magenta in our pockets would react to, though they carried a generalized warmth and a healthy glow regardless. But we didn’t get far before my previous concerns came true and Siobhan’s voice called from the back of the store.

 “Are you with the police? Be right with you!”

 “Oh no…”, I grimaced.

 “What?” Claire looked at me curiously.

 “I know her.” I said in a low voice.

 “Ex?”

 “What? No!” I rolled my eyes. “It’s Siobhan O’Malley. From the Clan Bronwyn Hotel.”

 “Oh! Ohhh.” Claire grimaced as well. “Oooh..”

 “I’ve got this.”

 “Aw, man. I came up with names and everything!”

 “Well I’ll still introduce you as your alias.”

 Claire beamed and handed me the slip of paper. I took a glance at it, frowned in disgust and handed it back.

 “And you lost your alias privileges.”

 “Aww! Why?”

 “That’s far too crass for me to say.”

 “Gosh you’re boring.”

 I shook my head and came up to the counter.

 “Siobhan?” I called out. “It’s me, Trilby.”

 “Trilby?! Come in! What are you doing here??”

 I walked in, past the counter to find a hallway leading to a small office space. Siobhan greeted me at the doorway with a smile.

 “Hello, Siobhan.” I smiled back.

 “I certainly didn’t expect this! What…” suddenly her face fell as the pieces began to connect. “Oh.. Wait.. What are you doing here?? Unless...”

 “Yes, I’m here about the deaths.” I said, growing serious. “I’ve reason to believe it’s paranormal.”

 “Into the ghost hunting business now, are we?” she looked at me with reasonable disbelief.

 “Well.. actually, more or less.” I shook my head. “Believe me, not by intention. Just something I’ve… fallen into.”

 “Oh, really?”

 “Ludicrous, but it’s a living.”

 “Hey, Trilby?” Claire called from the other room. “There’s something going on out here!”

 We head back out into the shop. Claire stood up from where she was, piece of magenta in hand.

 “So.. Who’s your friend?” Siobhan asked.

 “She’s my co-worker, Claire.” I explained.

 “Hi! You must be Siobhan.” Claire beamed and shook her hand. Always the friendly extrovert.

 “Nice to meet you.” Siobhan smiled, though it seemed out of sheer politeness.

 “So what’s wrong?” I asked.

 “Look at this.”

 Claire held up the magenta to the ceiling as high as she can. It began to grow dim. She then brought it low to the floor and it burned brighter.

 “Hm. Siobhan, there wouldn’t happen to be a basement, would there?”

 “Um. Yeah, actually.” She headed to a door in the back of the store.

 “Any extra information on this place, while you’re at it?” we followed her down the stairs.

 “Well there used to be a prison here.” Siobhan began to explain.

 I immediately grimaced. Prisons are just one of those things I’ll never fully appreciate, given my life choices. I felt uneasy standing in the old grounds of one.

 “Ooh. That makes sense!” Claire chimed in. “A lot of things could’ve happened in one of those.”

 “Actually the history is kinda scarce, but interesting.” Siobhan began, immediately falling into a sense of careful study and quiet enthusiasm. She almost sounded like a tour guide, if the subject were anything else. “The jailhouse was originally erected in 1602. The plot of land for it was actually a lot larger than the current store, starting from the sidewalk from one end of the block to another, but it was bulldozed down and divided by 1718. What we’ll find down here is some of the original brick foundation and layout of the previous jailhouse.”

 “That’s um.. Comforting.” I commented.

 We came out into a large, brick and cobblestone basement. Some old cells were polished up and filled with various cardboard boxes and crates.

 “Well it kinda gets worse.” Siobhan continued. “Apparently this basement was specifically used for… well.. Death Row.”

 An icy chill went down my spine and it wasn’t just because we were literally in the coldest room. Looking around at the iron bars, I could only imagine what it must’ve been like. Convicts simply waiting here in the musty, damp, dark, wondering when their time was going to be up. Likely a few wrongly accused. The pit in my stomach grew worse.

 “Of course it was…” I muttered, recognizing that I could now see my breath, but only barely.

 “Hm. That could be a good lead.” Claire noted.

 “Possibly.” Siobhan shrugged. “There was a few rumors surrounding the place about police brutality. A few convicts were found dead before their due date. The prison was shut down after that.”

 “So we’re looking at the possibility that several upset ghosts are still haunting, after being killed prematurely in their previous life?” I questioned, looking back at Claire and Siobhan.

 “But if it’s just a mindless ghost… Then why hasn’t it killed Siobhan? Or….us?” Claire asked.

 “Good question.” I pondered and turned to Siobhan. “Any similarities to the previous deaths?”

 “Aside that they all broke in, looking to steal stuff? Um.. No. Old, young, short, tall, man, woman.” Siobhan sighed a little. “They were all different.”

 There was a moment to think before Claire spoke up again.

 “...Maybe the ghosts have something against thieves?”

 “Wouldn’t that be kind of against the phrase, ‘thick as thieves’?” Siobhan grinned a little.

 Siobhan and Claire both looked at me curiously. I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help a small smile.

 “I find that to be somewhat of an offensive phrase.” I clarified. “I preferred to work alone.”

 “Hm.. Alone, you say?” Siobhan nodded towards Claire.

 Claire laughed a little.

 “I tagged along. Otherwise, yeah, he would’ve probably worked alone.”

 I shrugged modestly and returned to the task at hand.

 “There’s no guarantee that it’s multiples, either. We’d just need at least one to stay and become a ghost.”

 “Would it be alright if I poked around, Siobhan?” Claire asked. “Maybe I can find some piece of the corpse or an artifact he’s attached to.”

 “Oh, yeah, help yourself.” Siobhan offered politely.

 “Actually, while you’re doing that, I might as well try to find more information myself.” I sighed. “Do you have a computer I can borrow?”

 “Yeah, in the office.” Siobhan nodded to the stairs and smiled. “I’ll show you.”

 We headed back up into the office. Siobhan sat at the desk and began to start the dial-up internet.

 “So, be honest. What does one have to do to become a Ghost-buster?” she asked, with a playful grin.

 I rolled my eyes. That reference has been made around the office several times, and even though I’ve yet to see the actual movie myself, I still know so much of it, picking it up in passing conversation.

 “Well you don’t have to wear a ridiculous jumpsuit.” I started to explain, earning a giggle from the other. “Secondly, I don’t think you’d want me for a reference on the job interview. It um.. Wasn’t exactly the best.”

 “Oh.. Really? Is it all that bad?”

 “Mine was at least. I hear it’s different for everyone. Besides, it’s a boring desk job most of the time.” I shrugged. “Half the time chasing down the paranormal isn’t even as thrilling as movies make it out to be.”

 “Oh, it can’t be all that terrible.” Siobhan grinned, obviously still trying to hold onto some silly romantic idea she had of the whole thing. “I’m sure it must be a lot of fun at times. Or at least a few good stories to share.”

 I decided to spare her the retelling of one obnoxious, love-sick, school boy.

 “Well.. Perhaps I’m just unlucky.” I simply told her. “Claire would know better than I.”

 “Hm. Maybe I’ll ask her opinion.” Siobhan chuckled. “She’s nice, by the way.”

 “She’s the nicer of the people in the office, at least.” I agree. “A little absent minded.”

 “Hm, sounds like someone else we know.”

 I chuckle.

 “Okay. Not that bad.”

 “So… What’s her.. thing?”

 “‘Her thing?’” I looked at Siobhan, perplexed.

 “Well I mean, I doubt any normal person could be right for the job.”

 “Ah. Well, she’s a um.. Clairvoyant.”

 “Claire the clairvoyant?” Siobhan grinned, though incredulous.

 I shook my head and chuckled.

 “As silly as it sounds, she’s actually really good at what she does.” I replied.

 “She reads minds?”

 “Somewhat. She’s said it’s a little more complicated than that. But basically it’s about what you’d expect. Read minds. Telepathy. Senses ghosts. Um.. Feels…. vibrations or something?” I shrugged. I never really understood it myself, though I had tried to read up on it.

 “Hmm. Well, the internet’s up now. Here you go.”

 We traded places. I sat down and began to search. Siobhan made herself comfortable on the desk. I checked reports on the previous deaths. No leads there. The victims were all just as varied as Siobhan explained. Mostly hooligans. Nothing similar.

 ‘Rookies, the lot of them.’ I thought to myself, reading through their reports. ‘No wonder they got caught.’

 I tried looking for information on the jailhouse. The deaths that occurred were equally varied. The only thing any of them had in common was that they all appeared to have been horribly beaten to death. Everything from cracked ribs to broken bones. One was even killed with his skull bashed in. To be fair, my stomach was somewhat weak to read in more detail what all had happened. The chief of police at the time, a man by the name of Brutus J. Ustyss, was held in suspicion for the deaths, but never brought to court.

 Suddenly the website I was searching turned blank and then the screen flickered and went black.

 “Wha-?” I sighed in frustration and Siobhan did as well.

 “I’m sorry, Trilby. The computer blinks out, sometimes.”

 “Well..” I checked my watch. It was late into the afternoon. Soon enough I would have to stop. “I suppose I should go check on Claire. After that, we’ll try to gather more information elsewhere. I’ve been meaning to pay the library a visit, anyway.”

 We headed back out of the office.

 “You know, I’m still curious how someone as infamous as you landed a job as a paranormal investigator.” Siobhan started as we walked into the main room of the shop. “I mean, did you always want to be one? Or did you want something more?”

 “Honestly? I wouldn’t have ever wished for something as ridiculous as this.” I sighed. “I yearn for the days before the Defoe Manor. Back when things were simpler. I’ll always be a thief at heart.”

 The shop suddenly began to shiver and quake. Miscellaneous merchandise began to fall off the shelves around us. I felt an icy cold hand grab my shoulder and before I realized I’m being turned around, I’m met with a brick wall of immense pain and darkness.

[girlwiththestories]

To Be Loved

                                    life is short and time is always passing                                                    but love is everlasting                                                          -Nick Fabian

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Warm beams of light hit her face, and she awakens. She opens her eyes and smiles. She stretches and tries to banish the hope she feels rising inside. There are no promises that today will be a good day just because yesterday was. She doesn’t want to spend the day hating everything—herself, her life, and her dearest Dez. Still, she can’t stop herself from sitting up to see if perhaps she will feel as energetic as she did yesterday.

She slowly pulls herself up into a sitting position and finds that her body is not too tired. Sitting up feels good as if her body and not just her mind is trying to tell her it’s ready to do more than just lay around. She’s ready for this. It’s been too many weeks of staring at these grungy cream walls and wishing she were anywhere else. Maybe it’s finally arriving—the day the doctors promised would come when she would finally be well again. She can’t believe it. The life she has been dreaming about is barely beyond her grasp.

She slowly makes her way to the couch and sits down on it. It tires her, but not like that would have even a week ago. She’s improving; there’s no doubt about it. She reaches for her phone and types out a quick text to Dez. He’s got to hear the good news.

Just after arriving in LA seven weeks ago, she had come down with the nastiest virus and was so exhausted that she hadn’t been able to get out of bed. She had been puzzled; she had been the healthy one growing up—the one who had skated through when everyone else had come down with the flu. Here she was sick less than two weeks after getting married. Dez ever patient had encouraged her to wait it out. But when she hadn’t improved even after the week passed and the next one began, she had gone to see a doctor only to learn that she had mononucleosis.

She doesn’t have words to describe the past few weeks. At first, she enjoyed the freedom from job hunting it brought her as well as the ability to spend her days reading her favorite magazines and binge watching her favorite shows. As the days passed, however, she realized that she was practically a prisoner in their apartment. She didn’t have the energy to leave, so she had just stayed--hour after hour, day after day. Dez’s filming internship which had precipitated their move to LA in the first place kept him away from her for hours on end. She was left waiting for his return doling out her energy hoping that she would have enough for all the trips to the bathroom and fridge she’d need to make during the day.

This was not the way moving to LA was supposed to go. She had known that money would tight and their apartment tiny and grungy, but she hadn’t anticipated spending her first few weeks in bed. She has been here for almost two months and has not been on a single date or gone shopping once or made a single friend. No, her only accomplishments are all the complaints she left unsaid and the degrees that they didn’t turn up the heat because she piled on the blankets.

Worse than her dismal surroundings has been the way it all made her feel. She has never exactly had a reputation for being hardworking, but she has always felt like she had something to give. Performing let her share joy with others, and running the music factory gave her the satisfaction of knowing she was helping kids achieve their dreams. Now, she’s dependent on someone else for her very survival. It is Dez who has made all the trips to the grocery store, paid the bills, and made the money that mostly goes to rent. Without him, she doesn’t know what she would have done. As tired as he is from long days on set, he always hopes she is awake when he gets home because he wants to talk to her, to rub her feet, and to tell her she looked beautiful even though she is wearing the same pajamas she has for days.

It hadn’t been the world’s easiest day. Her sore throat and fever were so bad that she could hardly remember what it felt like to be well. Getting out of bed was unthinkable, and even watching a show didn’t sound that appealing. She spent most of the day lying on her back with her eyes closed counting down the hours until bedtime—twelve, eleven, ten, nine…

As the day passed, she only grew more miserable. Why was this her life? It was so unfair that she who had waited so patiently to take on an new adventure would have it turn into this when she finally reached it. Right outside her window were people enjoying life while she was stuck inside in bed feeling worse than she ever had in her entire life. She could do absolutely nothing about it. She couldn’t make the days pass more quickly. All of the wishing in the world couldn’t make her healthy again. She just had to wait until this nightmare was all over. From what the doctors had said, that was so far off that it may as well be forever from now. She was not sappy in the slightest, but she had expected things that would only get better after she and Dez married and moved to LA. Instead, she found herself hoping that someday she would all but block this time from her memory.

She jumped as she woke up. It was dark, and she couldn’t imagine what was happening, but it was only Dez lifting the covers as he tried to sneak into bed. His attempts at being sneaky were so terrible she would have laughed if her head hadn’t been aching so badly.

In a moment, he was lying beside her. “Trish?” he whispered gently. “You okay?” He reached for her and pulled her closer.

He was so cold she flinched at his touch. “No,” she said in a tone she would have recognized as whiny if she were in a better frame of mind. “My head hurts so bad, and my throat is so sore it’s awful.”

He brushed the hair from her face and smoothed it down gently. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could do something to make you better.” He reached out and kissed her forehead.

It was the sweetest gesture, but the warning bells went off in her head. He couldn’t do that. It was not called kissing disease for nothing. Dez couldn’t get sick. His life was harder because of her in too many ways already. He was doing the laundry and cooking and grocery shopping. If he were to get sick…

“Why don’t you just leave?” She was filled with regret the instant her mind grasped the gravity of her words.

“What?” Dez sounded genuinely shocked. “Never. I just promised you forever. Why would I do that?”

She rarely cried, but as she would realize later, the past few weeks of illness were taking a toll. She couldn’t stop the tears from coming to her eyes. Before she knew it, she was sobbing. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep working all day and taking care of me and the house and not seeing anyone and not talking to your family……You’re not being careful enough. You’re going to be sick, and it’s going to be all my fault. If only you didn’t have such a deadbeat wife…” She choked back a sob. “Don’t argue with me. I literally can’t do anything right now except lay here. Go, go sleep on the couch. You can pack your bags tomorrow.”

“Trish.” He dragged out her name like he had only done a few times in the history of ever. “Come here.” His arms were out, and she felt herself pulled to his chest. “This is not going to last forever.” He had just a hint of harshness in his tone. “Let me say it again. This is not going to last forever. You’re going to get well, and life is going to be good again. It will.”

“But it’s not fair,” she argued. “You’re taking care of me and making all the money. It’s not fair. You should just leave.”

The room grew silent, and she felt his heartbeat, and with that, her breathing slowed. “Now, now,” he said softly stroking her hair. The last thing she knew before she fell asleep was him singing to her—she thinks it was Austin’s Superhero.

In the days that followed, Dez was solemn, and Trish knew without a shadow of a doubt that she had hurt him deeply. Somehow, despite all of her grumpiness and insecurities; he loved her deeply. He was committed to her and found it impossible to understand that she would imagine anything else. After that, she knew that no matter what happened or how horrible she felt she could never say that to him again. She might be more miserable than she had ever been in her life, but making him miserable too was completely uncalled for. She could tell him about the suffocating way her throat ached or her pounding headache, but she should never ever tell him he should leave. He loved her too much for that not to cause him excruciating pain. Remembering back to that day, she feels a twinge of shame for what she did, yet that memory also gives her a new consolation in the depths of her sorrow and misery—how deeply Dez loves her.

She has known he loved her for quite some time. Thinking back, she has to say that she knew that even in the Austin and Ally days when they were just friends who bickered all the time. There was this undercurrent of understanding, respect, and love that began the day they met and never stopped. She has always known that Dez would always be happy to see her no matter what the circumstances of their reunion were. Their very souls have always been fond of each other, and deep down, she has always known that.

Things changed when they got together, and he told her he loved her all the time and hugged her every time he saw her. He showered her with kindness often in the form of little surprises that she would have thought very dorky if they hadn’t pointed back to the king of dorkiness himself who she happened to love very much. She had always been sure of the genuineness of his love. He wasn’t like Chuck who had always left her wondering why he was making such gestures to her and not someone else. No, Dez was the real deal--warmhearted and endlessly devoted to her and only her.

Yet, she hadn’t realized until now how much she had assumed his love depended on her. She was always quick to point to something as the reason for his love for her—their similarities, her charm, or on a good day her looks. But these days, she can offer him literally nothing. She’s not good company; she’s whiny and has no news to tell. Heck, she’s not even awake most days when he gets home or when he leaves. She can’t clean or run errands or do the laundry. She’s stuck in bed where she’s sucking what little energy he has left after his long days of work. Still, he loves her just as much as always.

She has always understood unconditional love with her head. She has always been the daughter who wants to do things for her parents and is deeply grateful for what they have done for her. She appreciates her friends and when she can tells them so. Still, she has to say that she’s never really understood what it means to be loved before now. She has always tried so hard to be lovable and to prove to herself that she is worth all the love she receives. It always made her feel strong to imagine that she was giving as much as she was taking and helping others as much as she was helped. Now, she can see that she doesn’t have to do that. She is loved—simply because she is loved. It is the most beautiful—the most freeing thing in the world. She doesn’t feel that she could ever deserve it, and maybe that’s the point.

She is up to a little more these days. She’s job hunting from her bed and still awake when Dez comes home. But she doesn’t want to ever go back to trying to prove she’s worthy of everyone else’s love. It’s a deep pit—deeper than the darkness of her illness. She wants to remember that she is loved because that’s what unconditional love does and she is lucky enough to have people who love like that in her life. As hard as these past weeks have been, she’d say they’ve been worth it in the end. How can you put a price on truly understanding what it means to be loved?

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 34: Breaking News

Chapters: 34/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: Mentions of nudity. death, internet misogyny  Relationships: Loki x Reader (Someday) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Reader, Thor, Brunnhilde, Heimdall  Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Loki Has Some Telling Dreams, Loki Has Some Legitimate Fears, This Is Why People Have A Low Opinion Of Journalists These Days, Clickbait More Like Clickhate Amirite Summary:  Fame can be particularly unpleasant

You stormed into the bathtub, naked as the day you were born, and the fury of you pushed him back against the wall. It was hard now to remember that you were mortal. Small. Helpless. It was hard to remember when you approached, wrapped in burning rage, like a force of nature. Thor could not help, for he too, was weak in the face of mortal women. Brunnhilde would not help, for she knew, as Loki now did, that he had made a terrible mistake. He looked to them for support anyway.

They were not there. There was only you and him, in a bath that seemed increasingly too small. The water lapped at your breasts as you splashed towards him. He had tried not to look, he had really tried. But you had demanded it. “Look at me!” You had snarled, and he had, and he remembered every inch of skin he had seen before your little fist had connected...

Not again. It wasn't that the strike had hurt exactly, he hadn't minded that. It was the anger, and the hurt underneath it. It was knowing that it was all because of how callous and thoughtless he had been, when he was supposed to be better than that.

“Look at me!” You demanded, and he did, resigned to what was to come. Your hand shot out and grasped the back of his head, fingers curling in his hair.

What?

In a single, smooth movement, you closed the last of the distance between you and him, sliding up against his body and capturing his mouth in a searing kiss.

His entire mind blanked, and he just stood, dumbfounded for a few moments, until everything caught up with him. Then he flung his arms around you, crushing you to his chest and returning the kiss with equal fervor.

Oh, this...this was so much better than being punched...

He poured passion into you, wanting more, more, more. It had been so long since he'd had this, and even then, it was with suspicion and apprehension hanging over him. But this felt so pure, so true. He didn't want to ever stop.

He kissed you ceaselessly until the water went cold around him, and even then, he didn't want to stop. But the cold was creeping up his body, so, so cold. Cold and...hard...

He drew back suddenly, to stare into your unblinking, rime-covered eyes. Your face, your body, rigid like a perfectly detailed statue.

Loki tried to leap away, shouting in horror, but the bathwater was solid, trapping him from the hips down. He flailed, the blue of his skin catching his eye.

Odin was there, perched on the tiles on the other side of the tub. He was saying something, but Loki could not hear over his own screaming.

He opened his eyes to the false night created by the hotels blackout curtains, immediately rushing to your bedside. You were breathing softly, slowly, and he almost thew his arms around you in relief, only drawing back at the last moment, for fear that you would freeze at his touch.

What was getting into him? First, out on the island, he had almost...done something before that bird had interrupted. Had he almost kissed you? Why? Why was he dreaming about it now, why was he craving something like that? Such things were not for him, surely he was still too busy, surely he was not meant for trivialities like romance. That must be what the dream was about. He was still too broken, too untrustworthy, too dangerous. It would only end in disaster.

At least it was now obvious that you didn't share all of his dreams. You slept peacefully, unaware of the warnings his mind was providing him. A warning. He should heed it. Banish all thoughts of soft affections and closeness. It was just a warning to keep his hands to himself.

He had been getting too comfortable by far. Holding your hand out in public, putting his arms around you, dancing with you. Crawling right into bed with you, the instant you allowed it of him! He even tried running to you for comfort after this nightmare, even though he was the one who was supposed to be protecting you! Even though he was the one who was a danger to you.

That dream was incredibly unfair. He had never once lost control over his form, not ever. Only the touch of another frost giant, or their magic, could force him to revert, otherwise, he had perfect control. He had kissed others, and not frozen them.

None of them had been mortal though. Or rather, none of them had been as weak and lowly as a human. So soft, so delicate. So fragile. So brief.

He paused a moment to regain control of his breathing. There was something so appealing about your vulnerability, especially since you lived your life as if mostly unaware of it. All humans did, despite being the most frail of the peoples  in the Eight Realms.

Retreating to his bed, he settled down, but did not sleep, visions of forbidden intimacy swimming just behind his eyelids.

                                                                               ******

You awoke, well rested and fresh. What lovely dreams you'd had. Traveling the universe, bathed in blue light, like a fading star. Something was attempting to communicate with you, not in words, but in impressions. It showed you dozens of worlds, peoples, stars, and other wonders. You could visit all these places, it promised, you could see all these things and more. All you had to do was learn how.

Bolstered by that potential future, you greeted the morning, barely noticing how quickly Loki switched places with Saldis, neglecting to tease you at all. At least you now knew you didn't share all of your dreams with him, not that you would have minded sharing this one.

You went out for breakfast with Saldis and Borgliot, and showed off your new puffin charm, and the seeds you had bought at the botanical gardens. Both women cooed over the puffin, just as charmed by the silly birds as you were. Saldis showed you a patterned, wool sweater she had bought to bring back to Andsvarr and a box of salted licorice for herself, and Borgliot had a bottle of Brennivin and a pair of very nice hiking boots for her brother, whom she told you was trapped on Vanaheim. There were a lot of families that had been scattered that way, with family members offworld at the time of Ragnarok, who had no way now to return without the Bifrost.

“We two shall meet again, I am certain.” Borgliot said. “In time, the Bifrost shall be repaired, and restored to its former power. We hast only to wait.”

Borgliot had time. She was maybe a little younger than the king, just young enough to have missed being discovered by the Valkyries before their last flight. Plenty of time left to see the Bifrost returned to full strength. You might not though.

Shame that. You did want to explore space, just like in your dream, but unless there was some breakthrough in building it, the Bifrost would be no help.

Saldis and Borgliot were going home today, since the trial was over, and they were no longer needed. Thor was swamped with press, and meetings with the local authorities, but he and Brunnhilde planned on leaving tomorrow, if they could conclude all their business by the end of the day. That would leave you and Loki alone in the city for two days after that, if you wanted to stay.

There was still a waterfall to visit, and more whale watching to do. Plenty of museums to visit, plenty of history to learn. Surely you could fill two days with education.

You saw the girls off on their horses with many well-wishes on their return, then rejoined Loki and Thor before the latter had to run off to another meeting. Brunnhilde, however, had other plans for you, dragging you away with her to input numbers into your new phone.

                                                                ******

Loki watched you go with some apprehension. The Valkyrie could be unpredictable as he was, and Loki was disinclined to fully trust anyone who reminded him of himself. Still, he was certain that she would not allow you to get yourself into any real trouble, and said nothing as the two of you left.

“So...” Thor said, a jovial tone in his voice that Loki recognized as meaning some kind of brotherly teasing was on its way.

“Yes?” He said testily, not really in the mood.

“You have been somewhat...indiscreet this week, don't you think?”

“I'm sure I have no idea what you mean.”

“Oh, well then, allow me to show you!”

Thor held out his phone with a majestic flourish. His newsfeed was clogged with article after article full of pictures; you and himself walking together, holding hands, eating meals, hugging, leaning on each other, just being together. Headlines speculated every possible thought, though most of them were centered on whether or not you were dating. There was one that showcased a picture taken of him carrying you in his arms, and leaping from the courthouse stairs. He looked terribly dashing to his own eyes. The headline shouted in bold text:

DEMON OR DISNEY PRINCE: Could the Controversial Prince of Asgard Have Rethought His Stance on Human Inferiority?

He snorted. Possibly. But it wasn't anybody's business but his.

Directly beneath that article was yet another-there were stacks and stacks of them-that featured you clinging to his arm with an unpleasant, clearly photoshopped expression.

HUSSIE OF THE MONTH: Supposed Victim Actually Shameless Social Climber? Pictured Here Brazenly Clutching The World's Most Eligible Villain!

“My, that one is unfriendly, isn't it?” Thor said, disapprovingly.

“I am not that eligible.” Loki protested.

“That's the part you're concerned about?”

“There's so many of them. They just go on and on; why are there so many? Look at this: 'Fantastic Frenemies? The Lady Doth Not Protest Too Much?' Ugh, 'Loki's Live-In Lady'? Look, this one calls her a doxie! How dare they publish that! Is there no oversight? I hope she hasn't seen these yet.”

“Uh, well...I'm pretty sure Brunnhilde was going to show her...”

“Oh no.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” You bellowed from where the Valkyrie had led you.

“Oh no.”

You stormed back up to him pointing at your new phone.

“Is this what you mean by PR?” You snapped. “I don't even recognize some of the words they're calling me!”

“I know, and I share your fury.” Loki assured. “I will find the addresses of these publishing houses, and I will utterly destroy them. No stone left atop another, I will raze them to the ground! I shall-”

“Loki!” Thor scolded.

“I shall write them a stern letter, detailing my disapproval!” Loki amended.

“It won't stop them.” You grumbled. “It's all clickbait, and it's all already out there. Once something's on the net, it's there forever. This is never going away.”

Loki placed his hands on your shoulders, leaning down to look you right in the face.

“Then we will do what those of us who are higher than they always do: ignore them. They are as ants to such as us, inconsequential and petty.”

You brushed his hands away. “That's easy for you to say, you aren't the one getting slut-shamed for no reason! Ugh! I need to take a walk or something.”

“Very well.” Loki said. “We can go-”

“I mean by myself.” You cut him off.

“My dear, I'm not sure that would be safe...”

“I just want some time to myself, is that too much? This shit is gonna spread like wildfire. By the end of the week, everyone's gonna see it. You get to be a prince, and I get to be a floozy. Great. I need to go stomp around a little. Meet me at the whale watching pier in a couple hours?”

“What? No, _____, I cannot advise-”

“See ya in a couple hours!” You stalked off, leaving him spluttering behind you. It was rude, and you knew it, but anger and distress burned through you, and you didn't want to take it out on him. Yeah, okay, Loki definitely had a bad reputation, but people weren't lambasting him sexually with no proof! You didn't need the added nonsense of dozens of news outlets accusing you of the same thing that murderer had!

So maybe you weren't a pure, untarnished virgin. But then again, as far as any of them knew, maybe you were! The point was, that it wasn't anybody's business but yours.

But they'd published it anyway, and were going to make a bunch of money off of it, and your dad, and Tara, and everyone you had ever known was going to see it, and so was everyone you hadn't even met yet. And it would inform their opinions of you, even if they didn't realize it, even if they tried not to let it.

And what would the people of Asgard make of it? You knew there were people there who already had a low opinion of you; you didn't want the general populace to get the impression that you were merely gold-digging trash.

“_____!” Someone called. “_____! You're _____, aren't you?”

You turned to face a small group of strangers, a few of whom you recognized from the courthouse steps. You drew back away from them. What did they want? Surely you couldn't have gotten yourself into danger so soon after blowing Loki off. That would just be embarrassing.

“Are you okay?” One of them, a young woman, asked. “Are you alone? Have you finally escaped the bastard? We can sneak you out, we think. Come with us, and we can get you home!”

Oh, they still thought Loki was some great, looming villain that you needed to be saved from. Well, it was several steps up from being threatened.

“It's...not that easy, you guys.” You said. It had been so long since you had spoken with someone who sounded like you, and these people at least seemed sympathetic.

“Has he threatened you? I'm sure there's somewhere you could go into hiding-”

“No, no, no, nothing like that. It's just that there's a lot going on, and I can't leave, I live here now-”

“And despite what you may have heard, I take very good care of her.” Loki said from directly behind you. He slid one hand smoothly over your shoulder, almost clutching, as the group of supportive protesters shrank away from him in fear.

“You wouldn't happen to have been following me while invisible, would you, your Highness?” You asked sourly.

You could practically feel his smugness falter, through the pressure of his hand.

“I might have.”

You tapped his fingers sharply, and he withdrew his hand.

“Just give me some time.” You entreated. He didn't say anything else, just walked back up the street with a barely perceptible hangdog expression.

“You can just...talk to him like that?” One of the terrified protesters whispered.

“Yeah, sometimes. He'll probably play some trick on me later, but it won't be so bad. Listen, you guys, there's been a lot of misunderstandings surrounding all this. C'mon, let's go talk about it...”

                                                                                                                                                    *****

Sofie put her phone away in disgust.

“Ugh! If I didn't need to ferry supplies back and forth, I might not ever go back to civilization!” She exclaimed.

“The pictures looked nice.” Frodi said. “They seem happy.”

“That only makes this disrespect worse.” Fritjof grumbled as Savane stirred their stew.

“Poor _____. She's really getting the worst of it.”

“She's an easier target.” Frodi pointed out. “She's not a god, and she's not threatening. There's nothing she can really do to get them to stop. Not that they've exactly spared Loki, but they can get really nasty at her expense.”

“Actually, I would like to speak with you about that.”

All four heads whipped around to face the unfamiliar voice, as Heimdall approached from behind the tents, the fire reflected in his eyes.

All four worshipers wordlessly moved aside to make room. With an appreciative nod, he took a seat.

“These gatherings are inevitable, and they are not unwelcome.” He began. “Truthfully, I find it flattering that any of you remember us at all, unreliable storytelling not withstanding. But even in the times of your distant ancestors, not everyone was welcoming of us. This hostility and confusion is nothing new.

The span of it, however, is. News traveled much more slowly in those days; there was more time to plan and prepare, to fortify ones position and allies. Now, there is less time for preparation, and people, including enemies, can move much more quickly from place to place. Your people could not fly, the last time I walked these lands. Now, you can traverse the whole of Midgard in mere days.

And now, entire camps of potential enemies have set up outside my city, motivated by hostility for one man, and confusion over one woman. I cannot look everywhere at once, and there are many things that currently require my attention.”

Frodi nodded. “And you want us to keep an eye out for potential trouble.”

“I want you to be wary of potential trouble.” Heimdall corrected. “I cannot advise that you enter into any kind of conflict. I do not believe that the majority of these people came here seeking violence, but that the minority who did might spread their influence if you are perceived as a threat. Eventually, there will be mingling. That too is inevitable. Welcome those who come to you, learn what you can. Many of these people do not truly understand the situation, and I cannot go explain to them myself without being seen as dangerous. It seems my presence stirs unease in much of humankind.”

This last was said with a pointed glance at Fritjof, who dropped his gaze.

“It might have to do with people having secrets, and you being able to see everything.” Savane pointed out bluntly. Fritjof and Sofie shot her quick glances.

“Probably.” Heimdall said, unperturbed. “Now, I am not conscripting you, and there is no reward I have the authority to offer, however, if these new people prove to be dangerous to your camp, I can move guards out here to patrol the borders.”

“That is very gracious. I'll inform the others. You too, Sofie.” Frodi stood, brushed himself off, and motioned for Sofie to follow. The two of them walked off into the camp, to visit the fires of others.

“Savane, I feel the soup could use some of your special spice blend.” Heimdall said.

“Yes, you see, that is exactly what I was speaking of earlier.” She said, but went back to her tent anyway.

“Fritjof, son of Jor, will you tell me why you set that tent on fire? You knew there was no one inside.”

“You saw.” Fritjof said apprehensively. “Of course you did. I believed its owner was the man who attacked Loki's seidkona, and I wanted him to have no shelter among us.”

“Decisive, but dangerous, don't you think?”

“If you saw me do it then you should know I had it completely under control.”

“And no one else knows? No one ever notices that your fire never goes out?”

“No. Will you tell them?”

“I will not. It is not mine to tell. But if you value your friends, you should inform them of what you are capable of. I do not believe that they will shun you for your difference. But then again, I was born to a people who value those with such special abilities.”

“I will think about it.” Fritjof said, but would not promise anything further. The thing that drove him out here in the first place, the thing that made him obsessed with blood and heritage, that thing was his own, and he did not trust it with anyone else.

                                                                     *****

“-And she was so shy that it took her weeks just to hold my hand.” Todd was saying. A group of newcomers had gathered around his tent to hear his stories about the woman who was rapidly becoming legend.

“She's so sweet and innocent. I really worry about what that alien has been putting her through.”

“Why didn't you follow her to the city?” Someone asked.

“Oh, I'm no match for a horse's speed.” Todd admitted. “And she's doing something important there, that shouldn't be interrupted. Did you know someone actually tried to kill her? It's terrible! That never happened back home. She's gotta go witness at his trial, and I hope they put him away for good.”

“I wonder if it was one of those fanatic at the other camp?” Someone else mused. “They're creepy. You know they actually think these people are real, literal gods?”

“Yeah, it's a little weird. Don't know why you'd wanna worship someone like Loki. Thor, maybe, he seems like a decent dude, but he's definitely flesh and blood, not a god. Just an alien. This is like some Fifties pulp novel: Aliens Stole My Girl! Poor _____. She's got to be so confused.”

“Hey dude.” Said another camper, who had heard Todd's lament more than a few times. “If she's your girl, then what's all this?” She handed Todd her phone, and he scrolled down through all the articles that had made you so distressed, outrage plain on his face.

“This is bullshit.” He declared. “Whoever those reporters are, they sure don't know _____! She isn't like that at all. But him-oh, we all know what a liar and manipulator he is! He's definitely deceiving her; she's just kind and naive enough to be twisted around by him.”

“I bet he's using her just to make himself look good.” One of them said.

“Well, don't fall for it.” The other camper answered, taking her phone back. “He's still the same bastard he's always been. You don't just stop being a power hungry lunatic overnight. No matter how harmless or friendly he might seem right now, it's all part of a plan. If he was really serious about not being Earth's enemy, he'd have turned himself in to justice, or make reparations to the cities he terrorized, or even issued some kind of apology! He hasn't done any of that, and he doesn't intend to! He thinks if he just waits long enough, it'll all go away, and he can just do whatever he wants with impunity! He kidnapped a woman from her workplace and put her in harms way. No amount of cute pictures can change that. Never forget what he's done! Never forget! Never forget!”

The cry went up, a chorus audible from the gates of the city.

[mayorsquid]

Listen to Me (Obi-Wan/reader)

This is a Royalty AU!

Reader and Anakin are Prince!Obi’s guards. I’m not sure how the politics in the prequels fit into this so let’s call this the ‘obi is royalty just cuz au’

Note: a few mentions of blood, mild violence, and one curse.

Words:1,441

You had been guarding the crown Prince of Coruscant for the past three years. He was a few years older than yourself, and this age difference caused the Prince to resent you slightly. Your partner, Anakin, often teased the Prince, trying to get a reaction out of him. Anakin knew he wouldn't face any consequences, because he was rather close with the Prince, and the other Jedi refused to take the job so there was no one else to replace him. You on the other hand, tried to stay focused on your work. You were hired to protect the Prince, and you tried your best, but he didn't make things easy.

"Prince Obi-Wan, please wait until after I've confirmed that the room is safe."

Obi-Wan ignored you and brushed past Anakin to sit on the side of his bed. "Oh please, I've been gone twenty minutes. Who could possibly have infiltrated my chambers in that time?" he scoffed.

Anakin finished his sweep of the room and gave you the okay.

You looked at Obi-Wan, struggling to keep the anger off your face. "Your Majesty, with all due respect: this is my line of expertise. It would be in your best interest to listen to me," you laid a hand on the hilt of your lightsaber, and fixed the prince with one last cool look before turning to Anakin. "Stay here with the prince, I have to speak with Master Yoda and the King." You reached out and gripped the younger Jedi's shoulder, "And this time don't leave him alone. We can't have a repeat of last week."

Anakin flushed, "I took my eyes off him for one second, y/n! What, do you expect me to hold his hand while he shits?"

Obi-Wan looked on with a smug smile, "I think I'd fancy a walk around the garden." You turned from Anakin and stopped Obi-Wan at the door.

"Please my Prince," you said quietly, "The King has assigned Anakin and I to you for a reason," Obi-Wan looked into your eyes, transfixed. "I can't have your blood on my hands too."

The Prince seemed to soften at your words, and he grasped your hand for a moment before releasing it. The touch was so fleeting you thought you'd imagined it.

"I'll try to stay out of trouble, but only for you, y/n," he said seriously.

Anakin pretended to swoon, and led your group into the corridor. "Oh Obi-Wan! You charmer!" he crooned, folding his hands under his chin and batting his eyelashes at his charge. Obi-Wan pushed him roughly, but laughed with the younger man.

"Alright, please be careful you two. I should be done my meeting within the hour, I'll meet you in the gardens," the boys waved goodbye and you went off in opposite directions.

You had no doubt that Anakin was a competent Jedi, but something about Obi-Wan made him more lax than usual. While the Prince was infuriatingly stubborn, he had a small soft spot for Anakin. Obi-Wan and the King had discovered Anakin at some backwater planet during their travels. They had liberated the young slave and taken him home to the Jedi temple. So Obi-Wan had known Anakin for many years. Their relationship had grown closer to that of brothers. You had met the Prince just after completing your Jedi Trials, your braid freshly shorn. Anakin was a few years younger, and still training as a Padawan. As your feet carried you to the council room, you remembered that hellish first year being Obi-Wan's sole guard. Obi-Wan was four years older than you, and jumped at every chance to remind you of the fact. He also ignored your every instruction, dismissing you as some silly little girl. HIs actions had led him into more than one sticky situation, and it wasn't until the third kidnapping attempt that he begrudgingly began listening to you.

Stopping outside the council room, you calmed your mind and schooled your features before entering. Grand Master Yoda sat at the long table across from King Qui-Gon. You bowed low, and took your post at the side of the table.

Qui-Gon nodded shortly, Thank you for joining us, y/n. Unfortunately we haven't the time for pleasantries," he handed you a data pad. "We have reason to believe that someone has infiltrated the temple," he looked up at you gravely , "A Sith."

Your eyes widened and your hands tightened on the data pad.

"Surprised you are?" Master Yoda chortled, " For many years expected this, have we."

You wiped the expression from your face and looked down at the information on the data pad, "What is their target?", a sick feeling grew in your gut.

"The Prince," Qui-Gon said shortly.

A rush of panic went through your body, and you struggled to hide it. You remembered the dreams you had been having. Yellow eyes, glinting from the shadows, always watching you. Your nightmares couldn't be coming true.

Master Yoda looked at you with perceptive eyes, "Seen something, have you?"

"

Yes," you breathed, "But it was just a dream."

"Seldom the case, that is," Yoda said sagely.

Qui-Gon cleared his throat and you turned towards him. "In any case, see to Obi-Wan's complete protection. The Sith are highly trained adversities. You or Anakin alone are no match." He looked small somehow, older. "Please y/n, I'm counting on you. Dismissed."

You flung yourself out the door and down the hallway towards the gardens. A sinking feeling grew in the pit of your stomach every step you took closer. You prayed Anakin was still with Obi-Wan. You couldn't stop thinking of those glowing yellow eyes, and felt like they were watching you that very second.

Finally you arrived at the glass doors leading to the garden.

You threw them open roughly and drew your lightsaber. You stopped short at the sight of Obi-Wan sitting in a patch of white and yellow flowers. Anakin was stretched out on the ground at the Prince's side. He was describing , in great detail, a particularly tricky pod racing track from his youth. The two turned at your abrupt entrance, and Obi-Wan broke into a smile so bright you couldn't breathe at the sight.

"y/n! Great, please save me from Anakin's pod racing stories." Obi looked so happy to see you that your chest bloomed with warmth, causing you to forget your previous panic. Your body relaxed, and you clicked off your lightsaber, drooping with relief.

Anakin noticed your frazzled look and sat up on his elbows, "What's wrong?" he grinned wickedly. "Has Master Yoda banished you and now you've come to exact your revenge on the spoiled Princeling?" Obi-Wan smacked Anakin's arm, but looked up at you with a small, concerned sort of smile.

Your stomach flipped and you had the urge to smile stupidly back. Something seemed so different about the Prince today. Instead, you close your eyes and rubbed at your temples. "Anakin.." you sighed and kept your eyes shut. Your mind flashed back to Obi-Wan's smile, the sun shining on him through the glass ceiling, making his hair shine almost golden. His expression looked genuinely happy for once. Behind him swayed the dark green trees, and peeking through their needles: a pair of startlingly yellow eyes.

You ignited your saber at the same time as the blaster shot struck the centre of your stomach, burning straight through your robes. Your knees buckled and you fell to the warm grass, clutching at your middle. You could hear Anakin shouting and the sound of lightsabers clashing. As you tipped over sideways, you wondered what sort of Sith carried a blaster. You tried to will yourself to stand, but that one blast had clearly wrecked your abdominal muscles and you were quickly bleeding out. Someone was speaking to you, shouting really. They slapped at the side of your face, and pressed down on your stomach. You grunted in pain, and blinked heavily up at the person.

Obi-Wan hovered above you, his mouth moving rapidly but all you could hear was the buzzing of white noise in your ears. You used the last of your strength to brush your hand across his cheek, "Go", you croaked, "I'm alright, go." You couldn't even hear your own voice, you felt the words leave your lips however, and hoped the Prince could hear you.

Obi-Wan's face constricted in pain, and your hand dropped down. He was saying something again, lips moving silently. All you could focus on was the dark streak of blood you'd left on his cheek.

"Listen to me," you breathed. Your eyes rolled back and you lost consciousness.

[frankensin]

Gladio (Chocobro Date Gone Wrong With s/o)

(Or strangely right? 2/4) SFW with fluff and a bit more angst this time.

(And technically older!Gladio too, I guess.)

Part 1 (Ignis) 

Dawn Day was Insomnia’s way of remembering Noctis sacrifice; of how he gave up his life to bring back the light and banish the darkness that was brought by the starscourge.  It was equal parts a celebration as it was a commemoration, and Gladio hated it. He loathed the festivities and parties that lasted all night, and abhorred the silence that came with sun rise. Everyone revered the lives they managed to save, happy that they themselves had survived the ten years of night, but Gladio could only think about what he had lost; a bond born at birth like the King and Shield before him, and a dear friend who he’d have given everything to, despite titles.

So it wasn’t unusual that you had found him still buried in the mass of blankets so late in the morning, the eve of Dawn Day. And it wasn’t unusual that he had ignored half your attempts to rouse him from bed, as gentle as you were in your words and small touches. Your heart tightened painfully to see the once confident man, curled up and trying his best to hide from the world.

This would be the first time you’d spend Dawn Day with Gladio but it didn’t come as a surprise that he was like this. He had ignored you for almost two weeks the year previous, with the barest updates from Ignis and Prompto. You had wanted to be with him so badly, to comfort him and hold him close, but your relationship with the man was still so new and fragile at that point. The thought of sharing burdens so great and so quickly left both of you desperate to keep each other’s company while being scared silly at the thought of rejection. You had wanted to heal Gladio, and were fervent to help him in any way, but as soon as that desire turned back on you, Gladio’s soft amber eyes insistent and open, you unwillingly closed up and the trust was gone.

But you both wanted to try, and it was the most significant part that kept you both together instead of driving you apart. And little by little you both began to share those haunting memories and uncertainties, the fears and nightmares that were building up over the years. It was a painful catharsis you both needed. And now a year later, you simply cherished the fact that you could curl up next to Gladio on such a day where he needed you the most, instead of being pushed away.

Gladio was resistant of the covers being pulled from his body and from the bed, but he was less so when you were trying to squeeze under them and pull his body to you as an unwilling small spoon. He huffed quietly in amusement, eyes still shut and hoping sleep would claim him again soon. But you refused to let that happen.

“Come on, big guy. As much as I’d love to spend all day in bed with you, I have something planned for us and it requires us to get moving right now to make it in time. So up!”

You kissed his shoulder and swiftly pulled the covers back, surprised that his cocoon was being compromised again after being lulled so gently into its safety. He groaned, annoyed, and rolled onto his back, his arms raised to his head to block out the light. You had wanted to savour the flex of the tattooed muscles, but you were on a mission and you couldn’t be distracted.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise. But it involves you helping me move a lot of heavy gear to the truck. Up!”

“Not until you give me a better excuse other than ‘it’s a surprise’.”

“Nope! You just have to trust me! You do trust me, right?

“I’m pretty sure either answer is going to have me kicked out of bed regardless, babe.”

“Correct! So for the last time, up!

It was a slow process but eventually, Gladio was dressed and helping you move bags into the truck, strapping them down tightly, all while having an energy bar hanging from his mouth. His moves were precise, if not a little sluggish, and his expression was morose. You’d hope to change that as you hopped into the front seat and shifted the gear into drive, driving in the direction of the nearest city border controls.

You had a small smile on your face as you approached the gate, a guard waiting to check your city pass. Gladio, the entire time, had his elbow supported by the door to his right as he held a hefty tome, his nose stuck in the book the entire ride. The silence had been comforting with a small lining of tension. You were enjoying the drive; your lane was quiet while everyone attempted to gain access to the city, nobody but you leaving the place behind, and Gladio ignoring the city preparing for the festivities by reading intensely beside you. You let your hand rest on his knee a few times, squeezing gently, reassuring, and Gladio had placed his hand over yours, appreciative without looking up from the pages.

When you rolled down the windows to hand your identification over, a foreign voice floating through the car, Gladio’s head snapped up at attention. He took in the long bridge before him that would lead to Leide, to Hammerhead, and beyond. He felt a little anxious, but that was second to the surprise that he felt knowing that you both were about to leave Insomnia on the eve of Dawn Day.

He placed his book away and didn’t touch it again as you drove away from the city, his curiosity peaking again. And every time he thought the car was slowing down, everytime he tried to guess where you might be stopping, you kept on driving. Gladio was only realising that that the journey was going to be a long one, and with each passing place of familiarity, he felt the overwhelming need to demand the location name.

He was also trying hard to keep any reminiscent feelings and memories at bay; images of Ignis, Prompto, and Noctis fleeting and faint, becoming clearer and clearer until it was just too much.

“Stop the car.”

“We’re almost there, Gla-”

“Stop the car, right now.”

When you glanced quickly at Gladio, already pulling to the side of the road, you noticed how ashen his face looked, and you felt guilty almost instantly. The place you had in mind was somewhere as far away from the city as possible without reaching the other side of the ocean. You didn’t think that travelling there would have unsettled Gladio this much, but upon remembering Gladio telling you about how much time he had spent on these roads all those years back, it was an oversight you regretted to have missed.

“I’m so sorry Gladio. I wasn’t thinking-”

“You’re right, you weren’t thinking.”

His voice was steely and heavy with grief. He was looking forward, staring off into the distance, his fists clenched tightly on his knees, his back ridgid. It was the most defensive posture that you had seen since you both started dating, and it brought back to you all those horrible nights of miscommunication and slamming doors. He was closing you off.

“I was only trying to get you away from Insomnia for the night, Gladio. I wanted us to both do something together that would maybe push all of this commotion to the back of your head. And maybe, just maybe, let you mourn your friend the way that you want to…”

You pressed the release on your buckle and leaned over the gear stick, both hands resting on Gladio’s cheeks as you gently encouraged him to look at you. His burning whiskey eyes relented and bored into your pleading ones, waiting for you to finish.

“What I failed to realise - and you can admit how stupid I am -  was just how integral time spent on the road with the boys was, especially in relation to your memories of Noctis. And I can’t apologise enough, lovely.”

Your hands dropped from his face as you sat back down in your seat, pulling the belt across your body for the second time. From the corner of your eye, you could see Gladio’s shoulders dropping in defeat, a heavy sigh filling the silence. He looked more tired than he had done that morning. Perhaps you should have just let him stay in bed.

“It might be a while to drive, but we can go back home, if you want? You can sleep in the back and I can wake you when we get the-” “Where were we going?”

You bit your lip, knowing full well that you had to give up any notion of surprise now. You had wished to see his face upon arrival, but you settled for second best.

“...Rock Ravatogh. We’re going rock climbing and then we’re going to camp at the top, and in the morning, we’re going to drive to Kenny’s where I drop you off, and you’re going to have breakfast with Ignis and Prompto.”

Gladio’s eyes widened, glancing between your hesitant expression and the back of the truck to where all those bags were strapped in. His own dreary countenance now bordering on the lines of anticipation, disbelief overpowering any other reaction however. The scruffy jaw that belonged to the muscled man was loose, his lips parted in awe as he stared at you. You could tell it wasn’t exactly forgiveness, but you hoped that at least you were on the right track.

“But you always turn me down when I suggest we go hiking.” “No, Gladdy, not hiking, climbing, and especially rock climbing. But, I suppose, there’s a first time for everything. I hope I brought everything? I had blondie help me pick out the right ropes and clamps and stuff…” What you didn’t tell Gladio, was the reason why you had refused him all those times before. You were petrified of heights. And more in particular, you were scared of falling from said heights.

So Prompto, as much as he helped you pack, was mainly there to give you a pep talk and spill all his tips on how to avoid looking down. Being scared of heights and having climbed the volcano himself, Prompto was easily your source of inspiration, and you told him so, if only to see his cheeks warm to your admiration. It was a past time you had favoured when you started to date Gladio, to make the blonde man blush, and it was incredibly easy and satisfying. Gladio had laughed loudly and heartedly when he found out, admitting he too found it entertaining.

But Prompto had made you bring sugary sweets and plenty bottles of water, in any case you felt a little light headed and needed to stop. He also warned you that if your legs ever felt tingly and heavy, you were to sit down and stop immediately, less you go overboard and off the mountain. It was all sound advice, but it didn’t help you settle your nerves.

“I’ll help go over everything when we get there. I can’t believe you’re taking me rock climbing, though. You’re taking me.”

“Okay, just for that, you’re getting no more surprises from me ever again.”

You took his rumbling laughter as the okay to continue driving. The sun was starting to go down which made the volcano in your sights glow red and bright, like you were seeing its heat signature. It was rather breathtaking. Gladio placed a hand on your knee this time, squeezing gently as you placed your own hand over his.

“I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted, you big brute.”

“And you’re not stupid.”

“Still to be determined, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

When you managed to park up, unloading some of the vitals into your backpacks for camping later, Gladio ran you through some of the safety measures with the tools you were unfamiliar with. Strapping a rather large helmet with a torch light on top, with a teasing slap to your cheeks, as you filled them with air to make his task difficult. He placed his own helmet on, and with a stick in both your hands, he set off in a semi-quick pace to the start of the hill.

Your legs were burning in the first stretch of climbing (which was really just hiking up a very steep rocky hill), but the closeness of the volcano walls made you feel secure enough that even if you tripped a little, there was plenty to take purchase of to steady yourself. Gladio was a sweetheart in that he made you take unnecessary breaks, constantly looking behind to check up on you as he climbed ahead. It was tough going, but your endorphins kicked in quicker than Gladio’s and you couldn’t help but sing horribly along to any song that popped into your head, especially if they were about mountains. It was loud and off-key and breathless, and Gladio joined in quick enough if he recognised the lyrics. And soon both of you were out of breath for another reason, laughing too hard to continue for a few moments.

It took you another moment to realise how much fun you were having, and you hoped that, with the easy child-like smile on Gladio’s beautifully flushed face, that he was having fun too.

As you climbed, it got darker and darker, and you became grateful for the light on your helmet. But the downside to this was, that as you climbed higher and higher, it got steeper until the incline made your boots slip regardless of their previous grip. Your hands were starting to chafe against the rocks and you had to stop to put on some gloves to prevent further blisters from forming. Gladio had kissed both palms, words of encouragement coming easily to the man at the effort you had put in so far. He knew you weren’t much of an outdoor person, or at least to the extent that he was, but he appreciated your company and enthusiasm and it warmed his heart.

You were talking Gladio’s head off and you knew it. Your nerves were coming back with a vengeance with every sandy slip and misplaced rock under your boot. You could feel your limbs tightening, preparing for an inevitable fall, but it was something you strived to move past, except Gladio came to a halt. And when you caught up with him, you looked over his shoulders and realised why.

The next stretch of climbing was a narrow passage with one side having a wall that climbed high towards the sky, and the other having nothing but air and a deathly fall downwards of about three thousand feet. The worst part is that the ground was slanted towards the wall-less edge. There was no way they could make it across with ease, but Gladio was already tying rope through your belts, that cocky grin of facing a challenge stretching his face wide.

“Um, Gladio babe, shouldn’t we find another way around this part? It looks a little dangerous and it’s dark.”

“This is the only way up. But beyond this is the campground so we’ll rest there and move back down tomorrow. Come on, I’ll go first. Just watch where I step and follow.”

When Gladio had turned around, the wobbly smile on your face disappeared as you tried not to look down. How the hell had Prompto done this? This was literally your worst nightmare and Gladio was quite happily hammering a small hook into the wall, oblivious, and you blamed yourself for that part. But this was for Gladio, and you weren’t about to let him down when you were both so close to your goal. With an inaudible gulp, and knocking knees, you crawled on the ground until you managed to cling to the first hook.

Gladio was in his element; he could feel the sweat on his back from the combined heat of climbing and the natural volcanic temperature, his knuckles were pleasantly sore from hauling himself up and over rocks all day, and his lungs burned proudly with dust and hot air. Combine the intensity and the distraction of the day’s climb with the smile on your face, he was happy. And it was something that he hadn’t considered to be possible around this time of year.

Sure enough that rock climbing had brought back a few memories too, but he had to concentrate too much on where his foot was going next to linger idly on his past. But he couldn’t help the smaller moments drift to the front of his mind; where he had drift back down the hill on his side to stop the prince from falling, or when he was trying to coax Prompto into taking those last few steps, ending up with an armful of the blonde’s dead-weight body, chocobo hair in his mouth. ‘My hero!’ he had pronounced loudly as he dropped to the floor with jelly legs.

And now, this time, he could combine those memories with the memory of both of you singing, of shared bad jokes, and sneaky kisses in between breaks. Noctis would have rolled his eyes and pressed on ahead, a fond look in his eye. Gladio relished that thought as he hammered the next hook.

Not before long, Gladio was standing proud and tall on more leveled ground. He stretched his arms wide and above him, cracking tight joints and enjoying the sound of his bones popping. It was only when he turned around that he noticed you were barely halfway, stood rigid and still with eyes unfocused. It took him barely a second to realise something was wrong.

“Y/N!”

The sound of your name shouted in your direction brought you out of your head as you looked across at Gladio. Your arms were shaking as you held onto the hook, legs numb with tingling in your toes as you tried not to move. Out of all the stupid things you could have done, you had forgot all of Prompto’s advice and you had looked down mid climb. And something had clicked in your head, a mental wall blocking your progress, and a voice screamed at you to stop.

“Gladio, I c-can’t. I can’t move.”

Gladio was moving so quickly towards the edge to come back to you that you couldn’t help but shout for him to stop. If he had taken one misstep out of place in his panic for you, he’d easily fall and take both of you down with him. His rope was tied to yours after all, and you doubted that the hooks could support both your weight. Gladio looked devastated at your distress, and it almost caused you to sob. But you knew that the only way out of this situation was for you to carry on. If only you could distract yourself somehow.

“I’m o-okay, just stay there! I’ll be there in a second, I just n-need a second.”

Gladio caught on instantly, bless him.

“You’ve got all the time in the world, babe.”

You moved one tiny step towards the muscled man, your eyes locked onto his reassuring and panicked golden ones. You were pretty sure you had dazzled him a little with your head light, but he made the effort to adjust to keep you sane. His arms were stretched out wide, and you imagined yourself falling into those big strong arms. It motivated you to take another tiny step.

“Funny th-thing this. Rock climbing one of Lucis’ tallest peaks while being deathly afraid of heights. Did I ever tell you that? That I’m acrophobic? No? Well now you know.”

“I take it back what I said earlier.”

“Wh-what?” “You are an idiot.”

The shock of laughter that escaped your lips, made your legs wobble dangerously. A mock glare returned in reply.

“Don’t make me laugh! S-six! You nearly made me fall!”

Your teeth were chattering from the cold sweat running down your neck and fear, but you pressed on, counting about five hooks until you were safe. It felt like miles from the pace that your were moving, but you thought that it was better than not moving at all. The silence had resumed however, and you needed another distraction. So you started to sing again.

“Listen b-baby, ain't no mountain high, ain't no valley low, ain't n-no river wide enough b-baby-”

“If you need me call me no matter where you are, no matter how far-”

“D-don’t worry, b-baby.”

Gladio’s voice was too deep to carry a tune; his pitch never quite hitting the note right and in all honesty, it was quite monotonous, a vibrating hum at most. But it was soothing and strong against your own weakened duet. It was a perfect distraction. You managed to move from hook to hook, your baby steps lengthening till you were making fast and anxious strides. And just as you made the last step, your foot slipped and you felt yourself tumbling backwards.

Your scream sounded off in your ears, muffled when it should have echoed. And when you opened your eyes, you found yourself wrapped tightly in Gladio’s arms, face pressed to his chest.

Gladio must have lunged forward at the last second and pulled the rope that was connecting you both until you were flying towards him instead of plunging to your death. And you couldn’t wait to thank him over and over again with kisses and tears of relief, if only your legs hadn’t given out a moment later, dragging you both to the ground.

Both of you began to laugh, a little hysterically as the adrenaline rush peaked and made you both boneless and tired. Gladio had tried to get you up, at least to just sit up instead of standing, but you didn’t want to move, you were just too comfortable for his convenience.

“We are never doing that again, ever.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to live here with nothing but dust and the eggs of Zu to sustain us.”

“There’s no other way back down? Are you kidding me? I have to go back?”

Gladio was wheezing with laughter at your terrified expression. Soothing your worries after, that there was another way down at the other side of the volcano that was easier going. You had asked in disbelief why they had taken the route that they had, if there was an easier way around. His excuse being forgetfulness, but there was a teasing and knowing shimmer in Gladio’s eye that you knew he was telling a lie. It didn’t matter so much then and there, you were both together and safe.

You both had managed to set up the campfire that was close by, as Gladio had promised, and neither of you had the energy to set up the tent just yet, but the sky was clear and star filled and the heat from the fire and volcano made for a pleasant night out.

Sitting on the folded chairs, side by side, Gladio took your hand as you both gazed out into the horizon. Small specs of light could be seen in the distance which could only be the fireworks of Insomnia’s celebration. So you hadn’t quite reached out of sight, but it was better than being dead-centre of all the unwanted merriment. Spending time with Gladio, making him smile even for a little while on the anniversary of the true King’s death, was enough.

And Gladio had plenty of time to remember his friend in peace, not the fabled King that everybody seemed to worship, but the sleepy game-nerd that Gladio had come to know and love. And you had given him that opportunity and space, and he wasn’t going to forget that.

Gladio raised the back of your hand to his lips, kissing the dusty skin adoring and somber. His heart ready to burst with all that he had lost and gained, and his voice unsteady and thick.

“Thanks, babe.”

You smiled softly as you stood from your chair and leaned down to kiss Gladio properly.

“Anytime.”

-The Fairy Elephant

This got a bit out of hand (and was a little more self indulgent than I thought it was going to be), but the last two boys will be written soon and all pages will be updated with links to all!

(Requests are welcome remember!)

[p-artsypants]

The Dame and the Daemon

FF.Net | AO3

So, this is my Scourge AU, where Noctis is infected and becomes a Daemon. Hope you enjoy!

--

The Starscourge. The plague that has haunted man since time in memoriam. A parasite that infects the body in mysterious ways, turning men into grotesque creatures; daemons, that lurk in the shadows. For shadows are the only place safe from the burning agony of the light. Parents ripped away from children, husbands from wives, and even the closest of friends. Only the King of Lucis, who held the Power of Kings would be able to destroy the plague for good.

In this way, those that suffer with the Scourge are treated heavily and with the best care available. But only the Oracle has the power to really, truly heal those suffering. And so, by order of the king, for the safety of those still living, the victim is taken to a undisclosed location, and buried in the caves.

Fortunately for those living in Crown City, the plague is a minor worry. The protection of the crown extends from wall to wall. There may be one case in a decade. But those outside the city...often meet a fate worse than death.

Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum, the son of Regis Lucis Caelum, and the only heir to the throne of Lucis was attacked by a daemon when he was only 8 years old. The Marilith sliced right across his spinal column, nearly paralyzing him. Instead, all the way across his back, a deep, near fatal wound was inflicted and prone to the monster. The little boy’s bloodstream was contaminated and a hellish sentence began.

Up until that point, he was a vivacious child. Full of light, which was appropriate given his title. He was in Tenebrae at the time of the attack, and spent many weeks with the Princess Lunafreya, the next Oracle, while he recovered. Unfortunately, Luna’s latent Oracle powers hadn’t manifested yet, so there was no way to predict Noctis’ fate.

Shortly after they separated, the whole of Tenebrae fell to the Empire of Niflheim and Luna was taken as prisoner of war. But Umbra, her faithful pooch, was resilient, and with a handy notebook, communication was restored between the two friends, however so slightly.

When he was 12, symptoms started to arise. His fingernails turned black. If his hair hadn’t been black to start with, it would have turned too. He had an idea of the cause, but he was 12. What was a kid, that was grown to despise and fear daemons, to do?

Hide it, of course.

So he requested Ignis, his adviser and glorified babysitter, to buy black nail polish. The first several weeks of polish were a nightmare to the prince, as it got everywhere, but anytime someone offered to help him with it, he refused. No one could see what he was hiding.

Being a boy with painted fingernails was reason enough to get beat up in school, but as the Prince…his fellow students didn’t know what to do with it. In the end, most people just kept away from him. And he decided it was for the best.

At 13, the wound on his back started to secrete black fluid. It was gross and smelled bad, and if exposed to light, the wound burned. Which made sense, given it’s origin. Nonetheless, Noctis took this development in stride. Ignis was asked to pick up bandages, and Noctis learned a new skill in wrapping. Because the fluid was inky, sometimes it bled through the bandages and into his clothes. To fix this problem, he started wearing a whole lot of black. Only black, in fact.

Next was unsightly marks and scars all over his skin, especially around the hairline. His fix? Sweeping bangs and concealer, which was a touch too light for his skin tone. His teeth started to sharpen, so smiling was out, too. All this led to Noctis exuding the image of a goth kid that screamed ‘home problems,’ which was not good for the king.

But no matter how many meetings teachers and counselors had with him, he wouldn’t budge. Psychologically, Noctis appeared fine. He admitted that the loss of his mother, and the attack as a child were both traumatic, but he assured he just liked wearing black and he wasn’t having any dangerous thoughts.

But that wasn’t completely true. Because of the Scourge, his angry thoughts carried a dangerous twinge, but the Prince was able to stuff them into a place the sun didn’t shine.

At 14, puberty hit, and his strength was noticeable. In training with Gladio, he broke several swords easily and started dominating matches. Once he broke Gladio’s femur with a punch, he knew it was time to roll it back. Gladio always pushed him to fight his hardest. Not anymore. 50% from now on. Also at this stage, Noctis grew taller and lankier. His sinewy muscle didn’t show the power he contained.

Noctis was a strange case. Most people infected with the Scourge would fall ill and disappear within a year. But because of his bloodline, his body fought a very slow losing battle. His exhaustion was apparent, but Regis and Ignis just assumed it was the stress of school combined with royal responsibility zapping his energy.

The letters to Luna started to become longer and more wistful. He heard girls whispering in the halls and the word love was passed around. He couldn’t imagine anyone loving someone more then he loved Luna. Despite the struggle they were both going through, she was always positive and encouraged him when Ignis and Gladio nagged and teased him. Finally, he got up the courage to tell her what was going on.

“Luna,

There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. Back when I was attacked, I think I might have been infected with the Scourge. I’m not sure, because I haven’t been diagnosed. But I’m changing in weird, bad ways. I know it’s not puberty, either. My nails turned black and my teeth are really sharp…I just don’t know what to do, because my father hates daemons. I’m nervous, because despite my best efforts, I think I’m getting worse, and it won’t be long before people notice. I’m scared. What should I do?

Noctis.”

When her reply came, he was surprised to see the page warped with tears.

“Noctis,

I am so sorry that you have been suffering like this! It breaks my heart! The empire has been allowing me to go out and heal my people from the Scourge, and it works! If there’s a way I could come to you, I would heal you too. I do not know how else to help you right now. You mustn’t fall to the Scourge. I have seen it, it is Ordained that you will be the True King and banish the Night. You cannot fall prey to it.

My dearest friend, the Scourge feeds off of darkness and negative energy. Spend time in the sun and keep your spirits up. I know it’s hard, but know that I am with you. Always.

Forever yours,

Luna.”

Noctis hugged the journal close to his heart.

The much needed positively came in out of nowhere in the form of a blond joker named Prompto. Noctis was walking in the sun outside school one day, and Prompto clapped his hand on his shoulder. “Hey dude, what’s up?”

The prince gave him a look. “Do I know you?”

“Oh, I’m Prompto. We’re in class together.”

“Right right…I just didn’t realize you knew me?”

“Pfft, who doesn’t know you? The cool, but oh so sweet Prince Noctis.”

“Is that what they think of me?”

Prompto shrugged. “Is it wrong?”

Noctis crossed his arms. “I wish I was cool. I’m a nerd.”

“Hey! Nerds unite! Wanna hit up the arcade?”

If there could be stars in his eyes, their would be. “DO I?!”

The next few years went pretty smoothly. What new little growths sprouted up, Noctis handled with tact. He moved out of the citadel to ‘learn responsibly’ but he was just in it for the privacy. The summer of his Senior year was the best for him, since he was able to put a lounger on his balcony and lay out for hours in the sun. It burned his wounds and scars, and sometimes just his skin, but his inner rage shriveled and he found himself more often than not smiling, despite his gruesome maw. Which was a bit problematic when he had a funny friend.

“Hey dude, ummm…what’s up with your teeth?”

Noctis suddenly stopped laughing and closed his mouth, covering it with his hand.

“I didn’t mean to make you self conscious or anything…I’m just wondering why they’re so sharp. Is it a Lucis king thing?”

Noctis glanced inside his apartment, trying to gauge when Ignis would be coming over. Ultimately, he choose to be honest. “Prompto, if I tell you, you have to promise not to tell ANYBODY.”

“What? Did you file your teeth when your were being stupid? We all have moments like that. I pierced my bellybutton.” He pulled up his shirt, showing the scar.

Noctis couldn’t help but snort. “No, I wish…” he sobered. “Um, you know how I said I was attacked by a daemon when I was a kid?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I was infected.”

Prompto furrowed his brow. “Infected with what?”

“The Scourge.”

Prompto was silent, but let out a breathless laugh. “What? That’s…that’s ridiculous. The Scourge can’t exist in Crown City. And…you should be a daemon by now if you were sick…right?”

“I think it’s because we are in the City and I’m from the Lucis bloodline. But…uh…” He pulled off his shirt and showed the several layers wrapping around his chest. He untied that and finally let the gaping wound breathe. “…what do you think of this?”

“Ugh…” Prompto had a wince on his face. “Dude…that’s nasty.”

Shamefully, Noctis began to wrap it back up. “Sorry…I just thought…”

“No, no, you’re fine.” He stated, pulling the bandages lose. “You can let it breathe for a minute. But like, have you ever had anyone look at it?”

The sunlight glared on his skin, and he winced before covering the slash. “No, I’ve been too scared to. What will the kingdom do if they find out the only prince is turning into a daemon?”

Prompto didn’t have an answer. “I…don’t know. But there has to be something we can do…what about Luna?”

“What about her?”

“Does she know? Couldn’t she come and help?”

Noctis sighed. “Yeah, she knows. We’ve been trying to get her over here for her own safety, but the Empire has been nothing but stubborn on it.”

“Must be hard.”

“It sucks!”

The two lapsed into silence, both lost in their thoughts. “Well, you have to tell someone eventually. You don’t want them to find out when it’s too late.”

“…yeah. Just…give me some time. I have to figure out what I’m going to do. I want to have a game plan so that my dad doesn’t have to worry about it.”

“Okay,” Prompto agreed, “but I will continue to bother you about it.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.”

Prompto grinned, and then laid his hand on Noctis’ shoulder. “And dude, I’m here for you. If you need anything, just let me know.”

Noctis gave a thumbs up in return.

Though he asked for time, the Scourge waited for no man.

It was end of fall of his Senior year, winter was just around the corner, and the sun had been hiding for a few weeks now. In the middle of a boring lecture, Noctis found himself dozing slightly, before a there was a faint tickle in his throat. The tickle turned into a cough, and one cough turned into four. He held his hand over his mouth. When he pulled it away, his hand was covered in black liquid.

“Uh, Mr. Garrison? I need to be excused.”

“Caelum, this is a very important lecture, especially to you. No interrupting my class. Unless you don’t think the rules apply to you, Your Majesty.”

Noctis coughed again, and looked to Prompto for help.

“Mr. Garrison, I really think that—“

“Argentum! You’re on thin ice as it is! Shut your trap!”

Unable to hold back, Noctis fell into a coughing fit, making disgusting noises the whole time.

“Caelum, get ahold of yourself. Someone get him some water!”

Noctis fell out of his seat and landed on his knees. He heaved before vomiting more black fluid onto the floor. When the heaving halted, he looked up at his peers in horror. The remnants of the liquid dripped from his mouth and his the whites of his eyes turned black. At the sight, many people screamed.

“He’s a daemon!” Someone shouted.

“That’s enough!” The teacher called. “Argentum, take Noctis to the office. NOW!”

“Yes, sir!” Prompto wrapped an arm around his shoulder and urged him out of the room.

“…Prompto…?”

“I gotcha buddy. We’re going to get you home.”

Further behind them, they could hear the teacher evacuating the classroom.

“It’s over…it’s all over…”

The next few weeks were a blur. Once Regis found out, Noctis was moved back into the Citadel, and put into lockdown in his room, while the council debated his fate. News of his grim transformation made it’s way to news outlets. The whole city fell to pieces at the idea of their only Prince being a daemon. Ignis and Gladio were livid that he hadn’t told them, but once he disclosed the truth, they were devastated.

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to keep this from us,” Ignis apologized. “I thought I knew everything about you, and I only have your best interest at heart.”

“I know, Iggy. I just didn’t know what I was supposed to do.” He huddled in on himself. “I don’t know what’s going to happen now…”

Gladio, who was leaning against the wall, spoke. “What do you want to do?”

Noctis shrugged. “I can’t go back to school, everyone knows.”

Before he could finish that thought, there was a knock at the door. “Noctis?”

“Oh, dad…come in.”

Regis entered, the crowns guard waiting in the hall. He was silent.

Noctis rose, still holding himself. “What’s up?”  

“The council has reached a decision.” He shuttered. “I’m sorry, this is really hard to say. But we…are sending you away. There’s a cave on the South side of Duscae. Your Crownsguard will be escorting you there, where you will remain until such a time when the Oracle can recover you.”

Noctis didn’t say much, because he didn’t have the words. Honestly, he wasn’t expecting anything good.

“We will be diligent in keeping up in talks with the Empire. Luna will come to Lucis, and you will be healed.”

“But…” Noctis whispered, “can she heal a full daemon?” A black cloud of smoke came off of him as he spoke, the negativity overwhelming him.

“We won’t know until we try,” Regis assured. Then, he stepped up and hugged Noctis tightly, despite the toxin. “I love you, son. And I will find a way to bring you home.”

The Ring of Lucii his father wore made his wound throb, and he winced in pain. But the warmth of his father’s embrace was worth the pain. Soon enough, it ended.

“I guess I should give the Engine blade back then, huh?”

“No, Noctis. I gave you that sword as a gift, and I will not take it from you. You will need it even more now where you’re going.”

Noctis nodded in understanding. “Then I guess I should get packing.”

Three years later.

“Sir, a car has arrived from the western gate. A man and a woman claim to be part of an Envoy from the empire.”

Regis sat on his throne, feeling older than ever. “An Envoy?”

“Yes sir.”

“Send them in.”

The man entered first, a carefree saunter in his step. “Your Majesty, good to see you. Ah, Insomnia, the crown jewel of Lucis. How I have longed to bask in its presence.”

Regis scowled, “Has the Empire grown so arrogant it sends its chancellor as an Envoy?”  

“Not just an Envoy,” Ardyn Izuna laughed. “But the promise of a treaty.”

Regis quietly listened, daring to hope.

“The Emperor has agreed to a ceasefire. We will withdraw our occupation in the western Territories and we will deliver the Princess Lunafreya Nox Flouret into your custody.”

Regis studied the man, waiting for the catch. “And in return?”

Ardyn smiled, enjoying having all the cards. He turned and gestured to the figure that waited in the hall. “Your son, Prince Noctis, must marry the Princess Lunafreya in one month’s time.”

Luna herself walked into the room, looking quite small. Followed by her brother Ravus, smug as ever.

Regis stood, cane in hand. “So you’ve come to dangle a carrot in front of my face? Prince Noctis has been gone for three years now. This is no news to the Empire.”

How awful Luna must have felt, knowing there was nothing she could do.

“Oh but Your Majesty!” Ardyn feigned sympathy. “If anyone can heal your dear son, it’s the Oracle. After all, she still feels quite ardently for him. Don’t you?”

Luna balled up her fists and bowed at the waist. “Please, King Regis, please grant me the chance to try. To save Noctis is all I wish.”

Not that he didn’t believe in Luna’s abilities, but it had never been done before.

“I’ll tell you what,” began Ardyn. “I will give you the Oracle up front. In one week, you can give me an answer about the wedding. If the answer is no, the Lady Lunafreya returns with me to Niflhiem.”

“Niflhiem? No, Tenebrae!” Ravus insisted fiercely.

“Oh tut tut. She has too much freedom over there. So I will personally escort her to her new permanent home in Graela. She’ll love it.”

Regis grit his teeth, hating the stench of the deal. He so badly wanted Luna to come for Noctis, but this stunk of a trap. He didn’t have much of a choice.

Ardyn left without another word, only offering a bow. Once he was gone, Luna bowed heavily.

“King Regis, I thank you for your hospitality. I will do everything in my power to heal the Prince.”

“Luna,” Regis addressed, in a much calmer, fonder tone. “Even if this doesn’t work, I can only hope that you find much needed respite from under the Empire’s thumb.”

She nodded. “Thank you, King Regis. If it is not too much trouble, I would like to get going to Noctis as soon as possible.”

“Yes, of course. The Prince’s guard will escort you to the caves.”

“I will escort Luna to the caves,” Ravus spoke up.

“Do you think I am foolish in my old age?” Regis bit, “the Empire will not be allowed anywhere near Prince Noctis. His loyal companions are a much more suitable party for the Lady to travel with. Ravus, you will remain here, where I can see you. Or you can return to Niflheim. If you dare to interfere, I will take you into custody.”

The man did not like being bossed around.

“Then with your majesty’s permission, I will take my leave.”

“You are dismissed.”

Luna held her breath as Ravus dared to glare at her, before he stormed out.

—

It was only an hour later that Ignis arrived at the Citadel, prepared for another trip to Duscae. Gladio arrived not long after, making sure the car was packed with camping gear.

“Lady Lunafreya, it is wonderful to finally meet you, though I wish the circumstances were better.” Ignis greeted.

“You must be Ignis,” she replied. “The well mannered hand of the King.” She looked over to the buffer man in the party. “And you must be Gladiolus, the Shield.”

“At your service,” he said, gruffly. “Uh, is that what you plan on wearing?”

Luna sheepishly looked down to the dress and sandals she wore. “I’m afraid I don’t have much in casual clothes.”

“We’ll stop at the Sporting Goods store after we pick up Prompto.” He assessed. “The caves the Noct lives in can be dicey. Damp, slick, and dark. Not unlike Ignis’ mom.”

Ignis elbow him in the gut. “Behave yourself in front of Royalty.”

Luna smiled at the interaction, “Then I’m glad we have someone so knowledgeable in our group.”

Once the shopping was complete and Prompto was retrieved from his house, the party set forth for Duscae. Ignis drove while Gladio stat shotgun. Prompto kept the Princess company in the back.

“So, I never really had the chance to thank you, y’know? If it wasn’t for that letter you sent, I don’t know if I ever would have had the courage to talk to Noctis. And he’s become my bestest buddy after all.”

Luna smiled, “even after all this time?”

“Sure! Y’see, once a month, the three of us will go down to the caves and deliver some goods to him. Like comic books and his favorite snacks, even a portable charger so he could listen to music when he’s lonely.”

“So you’ve seen him? He’s still human?”

Prompto took on a much more forlorn look. “Not in person since he left. I think he’s afraid of scaring us. There’s a big metal crate just outside the caves and we write messages back and forth. But...we stopped hearing anything back from him a couple of months ago. He still takes what we give him, but...I don’t know.”

That last message she received from Noctis was about a year ago. It was heartfelt and sweet, but in the end, he said ending the messages would be for the best. He didn’t want to hurt Umbra.

She appreciated his thoughtfulness, but it was still heartbreaking.

“I see,” she finally said. “Then we best be on our guard going in.”

“Y’know,” Prompto spoke up so the car could hear him. “Are we even going to know which daemon he is? Like, there can’t just be one in there.”

“Knowing Noctis and his huge ego and temper, I’d guess he’d be the biggest one in there.”

“Like the boss.”

“Perhaps,” thought Ignis. “But we shouldn’t rule out the imps.”

“You are all so mean,” Said Luna, not meaning it.

“We try to remember the fun parts on Noct, and tease him like he’s still here. It makes it easier.”

“Soon, he shall be with us again.”

—

They stayed at a Motel for the night, and in the morning they ate a modest breakfast at the diner across the street. “Howdy folks,” the tipster greeted. “Where y’all off to this fine day?”

“The Daurell Springs, for some fishing,” Ignis lied.

“Daurell, uh? Better be careful out there at night. There’s a monster of a daemon that lives in the caves.”

“Daemon, huh?” Gladio sipped on his coffee. “Any details?”

“Not much to say,” said the man. “Everyone that’s gone after the bounty either never returned or refused to talk about it. We’re close to taking the bounty down all together, since so many hunters have died.”

The group looked at each other.

“We’ll take it on.” Proposed Ignis.

“Ya sure? Didn’t ya just hear what I said?”

Gladio stood. “Don’t worry about it. We aren’t hunters in the first place.”

They arrived at the caves mid afternoon.

“Is this it then?” Luna asked.

“The North Daurell caves. There’s a second set of caves about a half mile south. They’re a little smaller, but much more dangerous.”

At the entrance of the cave, Prompto looked in the crate. “Empty. Either Noct took the stuff, or someone else did.”

“What did you have in there?” Asked Luna.

“Uh, some candy, the latest issues of Batman and Robin, a six pack of coke, and a new portable charger. The king sent along some clean clothes and a new blanket.”

“I threw in some canned goods,” said Ignis. “Though I doubt he’ll eat the beans or corn.”

“And I packed in some firewood and matches. No idea what he’s got in there to make a fire with.”

Luna looked at the opening of the cave and it’s total blackness. Dread and fear mixed and settled in her stomach. “I guess we should move on, then.”

She took a few steps closer, but before she could prepare herself, a harpy dove at her from outside, snatched her by the shoulders and flew her deeper into the cave. It let her go, and she rolled across the ground.

“Hey!” Prompto shouted as he and the others raced after. But before they even got close, a set of iron bars shot up from the ground and sealed them off from Luna.

“Your majesty!” Ignis shouted.

“I’m alright!” She assured, summoning her trident. She fought with the Harpy, doing her best to fend off its attacks.

Prompto took aim from behind the bars and took three shots, each hitting the mark, before the Harpy fell. Luna took a second to breathe before she came back to the bars.

Gladio was furiously pulling at them, but they wouldn’t budge. “Everyone stand back!” He called before summoning his broadsword. With a shout, he careened the sword into the bars, only for it to rebound and send a painful vibration up his arms. It didn’t even leave a dent.

“You can’t expect to break them,” spoke a treacherous voice.

The group spun around, and saw the High Chancellor Ardyn Izuna standing in the entrance of the cave, flanked by Niflheim soldiers. “It’s impenetrable. And you fell right for it.”

“You planned this?!” Shouted Gladio.

“Of course. You don’t think I’m naive enough to just hand the Oracle over to Regis without a little insurance do you?”

“Why you—!”

Ardyn held a finger over his mouth, like a teacher scolding a kindergartener. “The Oracle has one week. She can either heal the prince or kill him, if she isn’t killed first.” He smiled. “If not, I will be taking his Majesty for myself.”

Gladio spit in his direction.

“Ta ta for now!” He waved back.

Prompto turned back quickly. “We have to find a way out for you.”

“Or a way in for us.” Ignis added.

“It’s alright, I can handle this.” She assured. “Do not forget that I have spent my life as a Prisoner and not in luxury.”

Gladio frowned. “Well, we’ll be here. There’s a haven just over there, and we’ll set up camp.”

“I’ll make sure to save you some food,” added Ignis.

“Do you want to take my gun? Just in caseies?”

“Thank you Prompto, but I will be alright.”

From deeper in the cave, a creature watched the silhouetted figures at the entrance. It took aim, and fired.

“Look out!” Prompto called.

But Luna didn’t know what to look out for, so the thick webbing stuck to her back before she was dragged back into the cave. Long, sharp legs took hold of her as she was wrapped up in more webbing. She spun quickly, disoriented. Webbing covered her mouth and cut off her voice.

“Your Majesty!!” Someone cried out.

All was dark as she was plunged into a deep hole, and the monster kept her in it’s grip and carried her to the depths.

They came to a harsh stop in a dark cavern. Faint light from a elemental deposit illuminated the monster just enough that she could see it. At first, without light, she assumed it was an Arachne, a spider type daemon. But with closer examination, she saw the daemon had the body of a man, and it wasn’t attached at the waist like most Arachne either. This beast looked like it was reclining on the spider portion of it’s body. False, human legs covered in a black shell dangled just below her.

The daemon had yet to attack her. It just kept her wrapped in it’s webbing, and turned her over carefully with it’s spindly front legs. The prodding was uncomfortable, given that the legs were sharp, but it had yet to actually harm her. It was observing her.  

“…not like others…” It spoke, with a definite male voice, despite being broken. Only a small handful of Daemons were ever documented to talk, and out of them, it was nonsense. This must have been the daemon the tipster had talked about.

“…who…you…? Why…here…?”

Luna shifted uncomfortably, trying to break herself free.

The daemon brought her closer to it’s face, as it walked closer to the light for a better view. Human hands with long black claws reached out and touched her face, cutting the webbing from her lips.

She gasped, taking in much needed air. Her heart pounded in her chest as her breaths ran ragged. He just continued to study her, feeling her hair.

“…not hunter…”

Finally, she gained the courage to speak. “My name is Lunafreya Nox Flouret, and I am here to help.”

He tilted his head, curious, and continued to touch her face. “…Lu…na…?” A stray claw cut her cheek and she winced.

He withdrew his hands, frightened. But he pulled her closer still, so their noses were almost touching. From here, she could see his sharp teeth. But more interestingly, he had blue eyes. As far as she knew, daemons had yellow or red eyes.

The cut on her cheek began to bleed, and the daemon lapped up the blood with a swipe of his tongue.

Luna swallowed, unsure of what to make of this development.

Suddenly, everything became clear. The spider half of his body was growing from his back. He was tender and calm, and his blue eyes…

“Noctis?” She whispered.

The daemon’s eyes widened and he quickly set her on the ground. One of his legs pried the webbing off of her and he backed away.

“Noctis? Don’t you recognize me?” She begged softly.

He continued to back away, until he was pressed against the wall.

“I’m here. I’ve come to help you…”

He kept his eyes trained on her as he began to travel up the side of the wall.

“Where are you going?”

“…you can’t…too late…” And with that, he ducked into a tunnel and scurried out of sight.

“Wait!” She cried after. Coming to the wall, she was infinitely grateful to Gladio for convincing her to get the hiking boots and jeans. It took some tricky work, but she climbed up and into the tunnel and then flicked on her flashlight. “Noctis! Please, I just want to help!”

He didn’t respond, but she could hear him scurrying.

He was faster than her, given he had eight legs and could scale walls. Still, she ran through the tunnel as fast as she could. To her surprise, daemons had yet to make an appearance, and she vaguely wondered if Noctis was responsible for the absence.

Finally, the Tunnel opened up to a large cavern. High, high up, there was a long crack in the ceiling and sunlight came down, just enough to illuminate the cavern. On the far side, a spring rippled, and on it’s shore bloomed several plants.

But Luna didn’t notice most of this at first, since in the middle of the cavern sat a half collapsed church, at least the sanctuary of one. It appeared to have fallen in through the hole in the ceiling, due to poor planning. But most of it was still in tact.

If Noctis was to be anywhere, this would be it.

Quietly, she made her way over, and peeked inside. The whole back half was open, showing the view of the lake and garden. This was definitely his home. A nest of sorts was arranged out of blankets and sleeping bags. A small fire pit was nearby, with a campfire rack and frying pan over it. A stack of books laid on an old pew. Various cans, empty and full, littered the ground. On another pew laid several sets on clothes and a pair of black boots. It looked like a normal campsite.

At first, she didn’t see him, because he was huddled in the corner. If not for his bulbous abdomen, she probably wouldn’t have seen him at all. As she crept closer, she accidentally kicked a tin can on the ground.

He shot up, startled, and got ready to run again.

“No no,” she held her arms out. “It’s alright. I’m only here to help you.”

Still, he seemed uneasy.

“Please Noctis,” she didn’t step any closer, just held her hands out. “If you care about me at all, then you’ll let me try. The Empire let me go, but only temporarily.”

The daemon shifted, slowly drawing nearer.

“They said, if you and I marry within the month, I get to be free forever and they’ll withdraw from Lucis. Isn’t that great?”

He turned and looked to the floor. “…too late…no return…”

She looked at him with sympathy and came closer. “It is not too late. You can still speak, you understand me. Noctis is still in there!”

“…do I…frighten you…?”

“You did,” she said honestly. “At least at first. But I’m not afraid anymore. I couldn’t be.”

He finally looked at her, clear pain scrawled over his face. “…I waited…for you…”

“I know…” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

He lowered his human legs to the ground, and took careful steps towards her. “…I wanted…you…”

She nodded, holding her arms out. “And every day, I longed to see you. I begged with Ravus to let me come sooner, but the Empire wouldn’t budge.”

Finally, he was in front of her and he reached out.

Luna closed the distanced and hugged him. “But I’m here now, and you can’t get rid of me.”

How long had it been since he had human contact? Three years now? It felt like ten. She hadn’t even begun to use her magic, but he already felt better. They stayed like that for many moments, until a burning sensation set in and Noctis pulled away, pained.

“Are you alright?”

He hugged his arms to his chest. “…hurts…”

“What does? Did you hurt yourself?”

He shook his head, before touching her chest with a gentle claw. “…light…”

She gasped in understanding. “Oh Noctis…”

“…hate it…hate this…” he looked at his hands. Then he swallowed, focusing. “It’s…hard to speak. But I…try.”

“I understand. When you don’t have anyone to talk to, I’m sure it would be.” She held her hands out again. “We’ll go slow. If this hurts too much, just let me know. Alright?”

Noctis gently laid his hands in hers, and nodded.

She closed her eyes, and a warmth radiated from her hands. Then she moved them gently to cup his face and leaned in to touch their foreheads together. “Blessed stars of life and light, heal us now from darkness’ blight.”

The glow built, and Noctis scrunched his eyes against it until he tore himself away and rubbed at his face madly, like he was trying to put out a fire. “Not good…too late…not good…”

“No, that was very good!” She praised.

Without another word, he crawled his way over to the lake and gazed in, taking in his reflection. “…no change…”

“There might not be, right away. Give it time.” She hunched forward slightly while her hands shook.

“…what’s wrong?”

“That just took a lot out of me. Sorry…”

He shook his head, not bothered in the least. He reached out with his human hands and forelegs, lifting her carefully. “…this okay? Is this okay?”

She nodded.

Noctis carried her over to his little nest and laid her down. “…food? Water?”

“Water would be nice.”

He handed her a canteen. “Rest…will be here.”

Luna took a drink, and then relaxed into the blankets. She watched Noctis go over to the lake and stare at his reflection some more. Her eyes scanned the walls, taking in the details she hadn’t noticed before. With fondness, she saw his fishing gear sitting out, like it was used recently. Even in this hell, he was still able to do what he enjoyed.

She looked back at him, and saw he was standing just at the edge of the sunlight. He reached out, letting his arms and face soak in the light. This is what kept him sane all this time. As he took it in, she saw black smoke arising from his skin, and wondered if the same thing happened when she healed him. It wasn’t look before he pulled away and rubbed at his skin.

Then he looked up at her, meeting her gaze. She smiled at him, and then closed her eyes to rest.

A few moments passed and she found herself lying in grass. When she blinked her eyes open, she saw the landscape of her beloved Tenebrae, but it had an ethereal quality to it. She sat up.

“Luna,” A child’s voice spoke.

“Noctis?”

He was hazy at first, but soon he approached her, appearing as she knew him, a child. He pouted, disappointed. “I had hoped, when I saw you again, it wouldn’t be like this.”

She stood, coming closer. She too was a child, most likely the way he remembered her as well. “It’s alright, I don’t mind.”

“I do. I don’t like seeing you sad.”

She smiled assuringly. “I’m not sad. I’m with you, aren’t I?”

“Luna, you may have everyone else fooled. You think as Oracle you have to hide your feelings. But I can see right through you. You’re scared, and lonely, and deeply stressed.”

The girl sighed, feeling her shoulders sink. “Even in my writings, you could see right through me.” The wind picked up, and Luna felt her dress float and grow in the gust. When she spoke, she had the voice of a woman. Now that she was coming clean, the childhood innocence she had clung to around him had faded. “It seems that we’re destined to suffer, is it not? I as the Oracle, and you as the future King. Will we ever have a happy ending? Will this war never end?”

Noctis seemed to consider her. “You can stay here with me, where it’s safe. I’ll protect you. Then there’s no reason we couldn’t be happy.”

“Noctis…I can’t stay. Neither can you.”

He shook his head. “Even if I was healed from my curse, I can’t go out there. I’m…” He looked at his hands. His shoulders grew wide and he became tall, the voice of a man passed by his lips. “I’m still a monster on the inside. The darkness has weaved it’s way into my mind, and horrible thoughts have taken hold. I’ve done evil deeds, and so many have suffered at my hands. Who am I to be called King now?”

“Perhaps not now, but someday soon. It has been ordained by the Astrals that you will rid this world of darkness. And I am destined to help you.”

The blossoms around them turned into dust, forming clouds of a deep blue. “How am I to rid the world of Darkness if I cannot rid it from myself?”

She reached her hand out to him, pleading. “That’s where I come in.”

He didn’t seem so sure. “You used all your strength, and you didn’t make a difference. So then how do you expect to free me?” A black smoke came from his lips as he spook, tainting the air.

“I…don’t know.” She said honestly. “But I’m not giving up.”

She watched as his skin turned gray and black tendrils sprouted from his back. “Is just trying good enough? Luna, what hope is there?”

“If you don’t have hope, everything is fruitless!” She insisted. The ground itself dissolved around them, and they were left floating in a deep void.

He began to sink away. “I spent all of my hope over the last three years. I don’t have any left. So maybe I’m doomed.”

She reached out to take his hand, but it was just out of reach. ���Noctis, I will save you. Please! Please believe me!”

But he didn’t answer.  

A few hours later, when night had fallen, Luna arose. Noctis was laying beside her, his fingers just barely touching hers.

“Hmm?” She roused, sitting up.

“You’re awake.” He stated, pulling away from her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s alright…needed it.” He assured. “Hungry?”

“A bit,” she admitted.

“LUNA!!” Someone’s voice shouted deep within the cave.

“Prompto,” Noctis recognized it immediately.

“Luna! Can you hear me!? Gladio got a saw! We’re coming to get you!” These words were echoed, and hard to understand, but she got the message.

“…must be scared. I took you.” He held out a hand to her. “…climb on…back. I’ll take you.”

She took his hand and straddled the small of his back.

Noctis rushed back to the entrance of the cave and paused in the tunnel way.

“Go on,” he urged.

“You should come too!”

He shook his head and stayed further back in the shadows. “...not ready...”

“LUNA!!” Prompto called again.

“I’m here!” She replied, running over to the bars. “I’m okay.”

“How’s it coming, Gladio?”

The man in question was frantically sawing in one of the bars. “It’s coming, but it’s either me or the saw that’ll go out before these bars do.”

“Are you alright?” Prompto asked Luna.

“I’m fine,” she assured. “I found Noctis. He’s still human in mind.”

“But in body?”

“A little less than terrifying.”

“Where is he? I want to see him!” Prompto whined.

Luna glanced back to the tunnel they came from. “Come on, Noctis. They are your friends, nothing could change that!”

Slowly, Noctis came into the light of their flashlights, but just enough that the human part of his body showed.

“That’s not so scary!” Prompto protested.

“Hey Noct! Mind giving me a hand? If memory serves right, you’re strong as hell!”

Noctis shook his head, taking a step back.

Luna pleaded with him, “Noctis, if we can get you out of here and somewhere safe, I can heal you better. If not, Ardyn will come and collect you at the end of the week. You’ll be fighting for the Empire!”

Noctis rubbed his arm, then finally answered, “…stand back.”

Once everyone was well out of the way, Noctis came out of his hiding spot and shot a web at the bars. The other three gasped in shock at the sight of his full appearance.

Noctis took hold of the web and tugged hard. “…strong…can’t break.”

Luna, regardless of her small size, ran and took hold of the web too. The bars didn’t budge.

Wordlessly, Noctis came up to the cage and wrapped his legs around the metal, pulling with all his strength. The bars groaned, but did not give. Noctis hissed in anger.

One last trick, he snorted hard and hocked a wad of spit on the bars. It sizzled, but ultimately did nothing.

“Hmm,” thought Ignis. “That’s not surprising, given that the Empire catches daemons. How else would they keep them, if not for daemon-proof bars?”

Noctis, ashamed, began to creep back into the shadows.

“Hey wait! Buddy!” Prompto reached through the bars, holding out his hand. “You can’t just leave! I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“…scared…”

“We’re not scared! Come on, you should know better.”

Ignis watched the scene in interest. He had never seen the Prince so skittish and hesitant before. “Your Majesty,” he began. “Have you had any other visitors?”

“Hunters…often. Nifs…” He said, then as an afterthought, he added, “Ardyn.”

“The High Chancellor?” Gladio asked.

“What did he say to you Noct?” Ignis pressed. “Did he hurt you?”

The daemon prince came closer, “…I killed…hunters.” He admitted.

Gladio shrugged. “It’s kill or be killed, right? It’s not your fault if you didn’t egg them on.”

“…it was so easy…” he looked at his hands.

“If Ardyn made you feel worthless over that, let it go. Noctis, he wants you to be a daemon, he wants you to be a monster and a killer! But you’re a Prince! You’re better than this! Better than what he thinks of you! We’re here for you! We’ve always been here for you!”

Noctis let tears run down his face as he wept into his hands. Though there was only light from their flashlights, his body ached. Their kindness and positivity hurt.

“…so alone…so quiet…” He moaned.

Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto reached and stretched to take hold of him and pull him closer. Noctis didn’t fight, only allowed the pull.

Gladio, the shield of the king, wrapped a strong arm around his shoulder. Ignis, the hand of the king, took him by the right arm. Prompto, the smile of the king, took him by the left. Finally, Luna, the heart of the King, wrapped both arms around his waist.

“You’re never alone.”

Noctis winced and tensed. It was all so much light!

“Don’t let go!” He begged, nearly screaming. Everyone held on tighter, as he began to writhe in pain.

From just beyond the entrance of the cave, the group could hear a combination of groaning metal, growling, and darkness bubbling.

“That’s not good…” Assessed Gladio, over his shoulder.

A huge daemon was crawling its way out of the darkness. It’s sword ignited with a flame as it continued to rise and grow.

“There’s no way we can take that thing on.” Prompto lamented.

“Well, we’re going to have to.” Confirmed Gladio. “It’s looking right at us.”

Noctis hissed at the Red Giant, showing his fangs.

“You two stay back. We’ll handle this!” Ignis assured, letting go of Noctis.

Prompto and Gladio followed suit, summoning their weapons.

The Red Giant let out a thundering roar.

Noctis growled back, his hands gripping the bars.

“Noctis…” Luna continued to hang on. “What about the crevasse above the church? Can you climb out of there?”

“…too steep…fall…” He snarled as Ignis was nearly stepped on by the beast.

Luna took hold of one of the bars too, “I may not be strong, but I can’t sit around and do nothing.”

He nodded at her and continued to pull.

“Prompto! GET UP!!”

He watched in mute horror as the Giant brought his sword down on top of the gunner, and heard him cry out in pain.

“No!” With desperation, he hooked his legs around the bars again and pulled desperately. His limbs trembled and his teeth grit. The metal groaned and rocks fell from the ceiling. The bars bent slowly as Noctis cried out with the strain of effort.

Finally, one gave way, and made just enough space for him to squeeze through. He reached out with a human hand to Luna. “Stay here…don’t want anything happening…”

She nodded. “Stay safe.”

Finally, Noctis looked like the Prince she hoped to see and he summoned the Engine Blade. With a shout, he flung the sword out and let it fly through the air. It stuck true in the monster’s chest as it shrieked out in pain. He warped to the sword, and yanked it from it’s place.

Ignis gathered Prompto from the ground and dragged him back to the safety of the cave. Luna pulled him inside the bars and propped him up against the rock. “Prompto? Can you hear me?”

“…is that you, mom?” He groaned.

“He’ll be fine,” stated Ignis, “if you think you can heal him.”

Luna summoned her trident. “I can try.”

Noctis crawled all over the giant, distracting the daemon from the others. His legs pierced the tough skin, as he ripped and tore into the beast. He was glad it was nighttime and none of his friends would see the carnage he was inflicting. Finally, the giant seized him in his hand and squeezed with all his might. Noctis wriggled, hissing violently, until the giant wound up and hurled him into the side of the cave.

Gladio claimed the final blow, as he struck down the middle of the giant, impaling it with his broadsword. The beast wailed out and melted back into the shadows.

Prompto, now healed thanks to the Oracle, came running back out with Luna in tow. “Alright! We got him!” Then he looked around. “Where’s Noct?”

Gladio and Ignis looked at each other. “We…don’t know.”

“It is rather dark.”

“Noct!” Prompto called.

“Look! Over there!” Gladio shouted, running over to a heap of rocks.

Noctis was gravelly injured and laid on the ground, black fluid oozing from his lips and nose. Luna slid to kneel in front of him.

“Noctis…” She parted his matted hair from his face.

“At least you’re safe…” he whispered.

“Yes, I am. But you aren’t.”

The sounds of bubbling darkness emerged from somewhere behind them, accompanied by wicked chattering and groaning. Two more giants sprouted from the ground, along with a handful of imps.

“Uh…guys? We got a little bit of a problem here.”

“Let’s move!”

“What about Noct? We can’t just leave him behind!”

“The daemons won’t hurt him.” Gladio assured.

“I’m not leaving him!” Luna argued. “He’s your Prince, you can’t leave him either!”

Gladio frowned. “Tch, then I guess we got no choice.” He shouldered his sword as the sound of a distant roar sounded off from the trees. Something else was approaching.

Luna turned her attention back to Noctis, her hands glowing with a warm light as she cupped his face. “I’m sorry for this pain.”

“…pain either way.” He managed a smile.

She rubbed her thumb over his cheek and rested her forehead against his. “Blessed Stars of Light and Life…” She began.

The roaring grew louder before a serpent broke through the tree line.

“You’re the Oracle!” Gladio shouted, killing an imp before two more took it’s place. “If you’re going to do something really cool, now would be the time!”

Luna focused harder, trying desperately to do more. Noctis began to feel colder and colder in her hands.

She spoke from the heart. “My Dear Noctis, all I should want is for you to be healed. I have no right to ask anything else. But still, in my selfish heart of hearts, I pray that you and I may spend the rest of our days together. That our children may live wonderful and happy childhoods, and that I may wake up to your smiling face everyday. For I my love for you is vast as the ocean, my king, and I will stand by you, always.”

With that, she sealed the promise with a tender kiss, pouring out all the love and affection in her heart.

A beam of light broke over the couple as little embers rose from his body and began to disintegrate the parasite connected to his back.

Luna refused to open her eyes. “Hear my prayers Bahamut, breathe light into this body once again!”

The light illuminated the battlefield. Luna’s trident, which lay next to her, floated into the air and was absorbed into Noctis. All across Lucis, and even Niflheim, Royal Tombs flared up and the arms of the past kings of Lucis came rushing at Noctis.

He, in his human form raised out of Luna’s embrace to meet them. All at once, in a burst of light, the Prince floated as an armiger. Thirteen crystalline weapons circled him, glowing with the power of light.

Noctis struck, each arm taking a different target, before he bolted forward and hit the dragon head on.

The others watched in amazement as the king was barely a sliver of light in the radiance above. This was the Power of Kings.

Once the daemons had fallen, Noctis returned to the ground. Only two feet, and a long black cape draped from his shoulders. He turned to face his friends, exhaustion clear on his face.

“I…I’m okay…” he said, looking at his hands. The parasite had left black, blotchy scars on his face and neck, but he could live with that.

Luna rushed to hug him, but Prompto got there first. “BUDDY! YOU’RE ALIVE!! THAT WAS SO COOL!”

The Prince was overwhelmed for a moment and pushed Prompto away from him. “Uh, yeah. It was pretty cool.”

“Oh good,” added in Gladio, “his ego’s back too.”

Noctis gave him a look, but said nothing.

“Noctis…” Luna spoke, approaching him. She appeared to be having a hard time just staying on her feet. “It worked…you’re healed.”

“I am…” he confirmed. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he held her close and supported her. He left a brief kiss on her cheek, smiling all the while. “Thanks to you.”

Ignis took one look at the exhausted couple and made an executive decision. “It’s too dangerous to be out here any longer. We’ll sleep at the Haven, and then in the morning, we’ll return to Lucis. After all, we have a wedding to plan.”

“And an Empire’s ass to kick!” Added Gladio.

Noctis smiled a perfectly human smile. “I’m ready to take on the world.”

[enricodandolo]

Amfortas! Die Wunde

Die Wunde sah ich bluten, nun blutet sie in mir! Hier - hier! Nein! Nein! Nicht die Wunde ist es. Fließe ihr Blut in Strömen dahin! Hier! Hier im Herzen der Brand! Das Sehnen, das furchtbare Sehnen, das alle Sinne mir fasst und zwingt! Oh! - Qual der Liebe! Wie alles schauert, bebt und zuckt in sündigem Verlangen!

 I saw the wound  bleeding: now it bleeds in me! Here – here! No, no! It is not the  wound. Flow in streams, my  blood, from it! Here! Here in my heart  is the flame! The longing, the terrible longing which seizes and grips  all my senses! O torment of love! How all trembles, quakes,  and quivers in sinful desire!

 (R. Wagner, Parsifal,  act II)

  Marian had always known she was broken.

The Beast had been there, burrowing inside her heart, as long as she could recall. Always there, hideous to behold, a demon of her very own. She could hear its whispers when her eyes slipped, soft and comforting to the drumroll of her heart. She could feel it tugging at her insides, dragging out her every organ until she was a hollow vessel for its awful desire. She could feel it burning away at her, searing sweet and hot inside her nethers whenever skin brushed innocently against skin.

It had always been there, a parasite bent on controlling her, on making her its creature, as vile and abhorrent as the Beast itself. And every day, she did battle with it.

She wasn’t winning the war. But she hadn’t lost a battle yet, and that was all that mattered.

When she first learned of the Beast, she’d been a kindergartener. She doesn’t remember how, exactly—she remembers autumn sunlight warm in her hair, colourful crayons. Just quietly drawing, humming to herself, for once giving the teacher some peace. She must have worked on that drawing a long time, she remembers that—remembers her pride when she showed it to the teacher, the two pretty brides in white gowns, smiling hand in hand.

The teacher had laughed, quietly to herself, and gone to her knee. Told her that it was a very sweet painting, but it wasn’t quite right, was it? Perhaps she’d like to add a nice groom for each of them, a handsome prince? She’d understand once she got older.

So by the time mother picked her up that day, little Marian had scrunched up the drawing and thrown it away.

  She doesn’t remember the names of her friends at elementary school, but she does remember the looks they gave her. She’s not sure how it started, or when—only knows that they, too, had noticed the Beast, and were afraid of it. She remembers the frowns, then the mocking comments, the snide jokes. You’re such a weirdo, Marian. She laughed it off, all of it, and made sure the comments stopped. There was no language ten-year-old boys understood as well as a sliver of a ten-year-old girl biting, scratching and kicking. What she lacked in size, she more than made up for in viciousness.

Sometimes, even years later, the teasing would return—some chance gesture, some overly intense look, some ill-considered choice of words, the Beast churning within her. This is so you, Marian. Part of her wanted to scream, no, no, it wasn’t, she was fine and normal. Instead, she smiled, and laughed it off, and changed the subject, while inside her the Beast chuckled.

  Her first boyfriend—Devan? Dennan? something like that—was a sweet kid. They were twelve, maybe thirteen, and they were on the school football team together. Marian barely remembers his face, but she does remember a shock of hair the colour of an overripe carrot. She’d caught him staring at her, turning red whenever she noticed, and one day he’d stammered out something about getting burgers to her boots.

She froze.

There was no word for the nausea that came over her in the long seconds that followed. The Beast roared. Every fibre of her being screamed for her to run, to fight.

She bit her tongue and said yes.

  After Dennan (Devan?) there was Maric, and Aydin, and Huon, and—she doesn’t remember. They pass by in a blur in her memories, none lasting longer than a couple months—her mother took to referring to them as “interchangeable Edwins” at some point. She could not give them what they want, try as she might.

She did get better, though, training herself to accept their affections. When they tried to kiss her, she no longer recoiled. One of them—she can’t quite recall his name—she let fuck her. A few minutes of staring up at the ceiling while he pumped away at her, hands here, mouth there, penis there again. I’m enjoying this, she told herself, a mantra to drown out the Beast.

She’d close her eyes, and the boys before or inside her would change, soften, sweeten, and every time the Beast would drive her closer towards the edge before she could tear open her eyes, gasp out, reassert herself. I’m enjoying this. This is normal. Then why did she hate herself so?

  She could not deny the effects the Beast had on her body, but she’d be damned (literally) if she didn’t fight them.

By the time she was sixteen, Marian had self-discipline down to a science. She played in three sports teams after school. In between training sessions, she ran, for hours at a time with no regard for storm or strain. The exertion numbed her senses, burnt away whatever energy she might otherwise have spent self-abusing, or worse. When that wasn’t enough, she drank, smoked, had sex—whatever it took to distract herself, to keep the Beast in check for another hour. She wasn’t quite flogging herself like a penitent Chantry sister, but she’d developed a habit of subtly digging her nails into her skin or scratching herself whenever she caught herself paying tribute to the Beast within her. The pain usually dispelled whatever foul notions it had implanted in her before long.

Besides, a little blood was a small price to pay.

  She had never believed in the Maker’s grace. What kind of benevolent god would make her like this, broken from the start, and make her live with these desires?

And yet, in the dark of night, when she sank her teeth into her pillow to keep from screaming out, she prayed. Prayed for strength to fight the Beast, prayed for release, prayed for death.

  She didn’t wait for the recruiting officer’s sales pitch before asking for the enlistment papers. It was her seventeenth birthday.

Explaining her decision was the hardest thing she’d ever done, and it took her weeks until she finally confessed what she had done. She knelt in the study, mumbling something unsatisfactory, watching the tears and trying not to break down herself. It was the eve of father’s funeral.

She tried to make excuses, but of course she couldn’t take this away from them. None of them deserved this, it wasn’t their fault she was broken. They accompanied her to the station. She was in tears, and Marian wanted nothing more than to give in to the Beast right there and then.

She had to get away from her, she reminded herself. That was all that mattered. She smiled, waved, and got on the train.

  Ostagar is madness, a conflagration of waking nightmares. The tastes of blood, vomit and mud, the smells of gore, decay and taint—all blend together in her memories. For the first time in her life, though, her dreams are, if not pleasant, at least free of the Beast’s illusions. She dreams of her still, she suspects she always will, but it is the darkspawn disease that now distorts her dream-image, not Marian’s own horrid hunger.

She tries to imagine her own fall, struck down by a tainted musket ball or blade. She doesn’t much care for king and country, but she can’t think of anything sweeter and more fitting than to die for her despite the Beast.

  She does not get her wish. When the line collapses, she flees north, possessed only by the atavistic urge to protect what is (not, never can be) hers. The moment she sees her again, the Beast she thought defeated is back, and when she embraces her, she can scarce tear herself away again. Templars and demons, soldiers and darkspawn—none of it matters for those few, blissful moments that would earn her hatred and revulsion on top of everlasting damnation if the Beast had its way.

She is warm, and firm. There is nothing they cannot do.

  Ringing in her ears.

Lead. Iron. Gun oil under her fingernails, mixing with blood.

Grey sky, grey land, grey ogre speckled red.

Her ears—

She stumbles over, like one who walks across a room in a shuttered house naked and unwatched. She kneels.

She stares blankly. Takes her hand. Cold. She wants to kiss her even now.

The Beast chuckles darkly. Tip of the hat, bow and curtain. It departs. She has won. She is free.

“… Bethany?”

  Nun banne das Bangen, holder Tod, sehnend verlangter Liebestod! In deinen Armen, dir geweiht, urheilig Erwarmen, von Erwachens Not befreit!

 Now banish dread, sweet death, yearned for, longed for death-in-love! In your arms, consecrated to you, sacred elemental quickening force, free from the peril of waking! 

(R. Wagner, Tristan und Isolde, act II)