#I’m taking a pause to work on a Labyrinth fic but I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN

[faeriexqueen]

I think I watched Pacific Northwest Ballet’s stream of Romeo et Juliette 3.5 -4ish times (the .5 being mostly to rewatch clips ajdlakjdlsa) and I stg I cried every damn time. 😭😭😭 Just watched it again tonight and I am a broken woman. But I’m also now a woman with inspiration for that Romeo and Juliet AU I want to get back on in the future. >.>

[emilyplaysotome]

Queen's Choice - Part 5

This is the fifth chapter to a multi-part smutty fic with the MLQC boys.

Catch up:

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

He’s up before I am, but I’m not surprised. I wake to the smell of coffee and breakfast, and my stomach lets out a growl. I usually do without or pick something up on the way to the office, but I can’t pass up his cooking.

I’m surprised at how sore I am from the previous night’s activities and my cheeks burn as I think about everything that transpired.

I think about what it felt like to be under him and on top of him and how despite what we did I still want more.

I wonder when I got so greedy and I also realize I only have a week of having my cake and eating it too before I have to start making hard decisions, so I do my best to push down the unpleasant thoughts and focus on the man in my kitchen.

As I’m getting ready, my phone lights up with a notification from Kiro.

“It's just that I'm...back in town! You doing anything tonight?”

I can still smell Victor on me and it feels almost wrong to reply, but I do.

“Nada! Want to hang?”

“Something like that 😈 - I have a concert tonight and got you a VIP pass. I want you in the front row”

“…And I have a surprise for you before.”

“Oooh! A surprise. Like candy?” I type back with a grin.

“Something a bit spicier…”

With that he sends me the address with a time and I open the door to see Victor enjoying coffee and a plate of eggs with toast waiting for me.

“Good morning sleeping dummy. I thought I’d be off on my work trip before you even woke up. So glad you could join me.”

He’s laying it on thick, but we kiss good morning as if we’ve been together for years. It’s just a peck on the lips but it makes this all feel very domestic and I take my seat next to him before digging in.

The food is amazing, which isn’t a surprise.

Victor smiles as he watches me eat with gusto and even though we’ve done this kind of thing before, having followed what we did last night it feels more intimate. There’s a moment where I look at him and smile and realize that the pendulum to my clock has stopped moving and I realize that he’s frozen us in this moment.

“I need to leave,” he explains, gently wiping some crumbs from my mouth. “But I don’t want to quite yet.”

It’s romantic and sweeter than I’m used to him being.

I feel myself swooning a bit and I take a gulp of the juice next the coffee he’s made and kiss him. A real kiss where I hope I taste like OJ and everything sweet instead of the savory breakfast he’s made for me. I can feel it starting to escalate but he gently pushes me away and says, “I need to go.”

“When do I get to see you again?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“I’ll be away on business. I’ll write when I’m back.”

I nod but am reminded of how important Victor is.

How unavailable he is at times.

He must see this and he kisses me gently again and says, ”I trust you’ll keep yourself occupied so you won’t miss me too much, yes?”

I nod, guiltily thinking about the fact I’ve already made myself plans with another man and that after signing the contract I thought about how I could see the others before time ran out for one of them. I don’t know if he sees through me, but he kisses my forehead and tells me to be a good girl while he’s away before putting on his jacket.

When he’s at the door he looks at me with a naughty smirk and says, “When I’m back we can live out your fantasy in my office. Until then I look forward to hearing what you dream up next in your bed about me.”

I feel myself go bright red and yell, “Have a good trip!” and hear the sound of his low laughter and the click of the door before I’m left alone with my breakfast and thoughts.

I think about how easy it’s been to float between four men and how they all come and go in a way that makes me question if any of them could be present in the way I want.

In the way my perfect one would be.

—

I forget about my worries and get lost in work, planning our next episode of Miracle Finder with Anna. We budget and make phone calls and laugh about challenging production experiences and before I know it the day is gone and it’s time to hit the gym.

I change into my clothes and I catch a small mark on my breast. I question who it’s from and why I don’t feel more satiated.

I had thought that by being with each of them, I would have some clarity but if anything I feel it has muddied things. I wonder if I need to try again. Or until Victor’s contract forces my hand.

It’s then that I shower him off of me and I feel a pang of melancholy.

I’m surprised by the fact that I liked having him on me but I’m about to meet Kiro and that feels like a personal line I don’t want to cross.

—

The security at the venue is insane and I question if I’ll be able to make it back to the green room where Kiro instructed me to meet him. It’s only by chance that I run into Savin by the entrance and he escorts me through the labyrinth-like backstage, dropping me at the door before running off to take care of something else.

I knock and hear a cheerful voice inviting me in. I open it and enter, seeing Kiro in all his pop star glory, styled to the max but reclining on the couch, Nintendo switch in hand.

“Miss Chips you made it!”

“I did.”

He throws the switch aside and jumps up to greet me, giving me a deep kiss before evaluating my appearance.

“So cute. I don’t know how I’m going to stay focused on the concert with you up front looking like this…not to mention what I’ve planned for us.”

“For us?”

I can’t help but giggle as he gives me a little twirl before running off to get the surprise he’d mentioned but that I’d already forgotten about. It’s a box that gives few clues about its contents, and I open it and discover what looks like a sexy underwear set.

“Put it on.”

“Now? But…”

“Now. It’s locked, no one will come in.”

There’s an impish look I haven’t seen before and I obey, surprised that he runs over and turns his attention to his laptop instead of on my naked form. I can feel that there’s something…in this underwear, pressed up against my most sensitive spot and I don’t quite understand until I’m in it and he’s looking at me with a smile.

“I made this just for you,” he says with a smile.

“Made it?”

“Programmed it for your pleasure tonight…”

He starts to sing a soft melody that I recognize as his song “Key to your Heart” and the moment his voice hits the word “Key” I feel a vibration that’s subtle enough to go unnoticed by someone next to me but present enough to trigger a moan out of me.

His eyes are glued to me and he gets up and reaches out to gently touch my face before running his hand down lower to play with my breast the way he did when we were in the shower.

“Clever isn’t it?”

I realize that the word “Key” activates the mechanism, and knowing that I alone know his secret alter ego, I desperately try to regain my composure and say, “It’s a nice touch. How do I stop it?”

“I love you Kiro.”

“What?”

“Say it.”

I pause and he smirks and sings, “The KEY to your love…” and the intensity of the vibration increases.

I moan, “I love you Kiro” louder than I expect and the vibration stops.

He laughs and kisses me.

“Anyone else will think you’re just a fan, but I’ll know what’s happening.”

“I didn’t realize you played dirty.”

“I play to win…always.”

I can tell he’s serious and his gaze has an intensity it usually lacks. He doesn’t feel like the jovial, playful boy that I spent the past couple years with. He suddenly feels more mature and I find myself wanting his touch before the concert, but Savin’s knock interrupts us.

“Be right there!” He yells back, switching into his sweetheart persona.

“5 minutes,” Savin says from behind the closed door.

“Got it. I’ll see you backstage.”

Savin grunts in reply and it feels like my heart is the only one that’s racing.

“We’ll finish what we’ve started after the concert,” Kiro says, slipping a VIP lanyard around my neck. “See you here after the encore.”

He doesn’t touch me, even though I’m riled up and I have no choice but to find my place in the crowd for his concert. When it starts I realize he’s only a few feet above me and while he does his typical amazing performance, I can feel him watching me through most of it.

He insists on saying the secret phrase more than usual, and I do my best to keep my composure in the crowd, too embarrassed to shout “I love you Kiro” as often as he says “Key”. The girls around me all squeal when he looks our way, which is often, and I struggle not to let his toy get the better of me.

I can tell he’s getting riled up too, watching me from the stage, because his eyes turn gold and he lets everyone know that the encore is coming early tonight. None of them care, especially not me, and within 20 minutes of the last song I’m back in the green room being bent over a couch that has seen years of this kind of behavior.

My clothes are still on but the underwear he gifted me is down around my ankles and he makes lewd comments as to how his toy has made it easy to have me. I’m almost embarrassed by my own wetness but he continues to moan filthy commentary as he fucks me which is far filthier than I ever expected him capable.

I realize that neither one of us were as sweet as we pretended to be with the other.

He flips me over and lifts me in a princess carry for a moment before laying me down on the couch. He spreads my legs in a way where I'm half laying, half sitting, exposed on the very edge to him and he enters me again. He nips at my neck, and lightly pinches my breast, toying with me, teasing me like he did all night and once again there’s a knock from Savin.

“Kiro - you’ve got a meet and greet in 15.”

He smirks but doesn’t stop.

“But I’ve got 15?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s all the time I need. Thanks Savin.”

I cover my mouth as to not alert his manager to what’s actually happening behind the door as he ups the intensity of his movement. He has full control over me and my pleasure and much to my excitement (as well as my disappointment), Kiro keeps his promise to Savin.

—

We say goodbye a few minutes before the meet and greet, drenched in our own sweat and fluids but riding some endorphin high from the night.

He doesn’t mince his words this time.

“You know I’m in love with you right?”

“I…”

“And you know I play to win, right?”

I nod.

“Then I’ll be seeing you soon."

I watch him pause at the door before he looks back and adds, "Sooner than anyone else if I have to.”

“But what about your world tour?”

Savin knocks from beyond the door, but doesn’t want to leave this time.

“Kiro come on. Chop chop. I promised my wife I’d be home to put the kids to bed tonight, let’s go.”

I don’t know why, but I hide when he exits so it seems as if Kiro was in the green room alone before I compose myself to head home. I pass girls wearing t-shirts with Kiro’s face plastered all over them and I think about what we just did.

I think about how he’s off to meet fans, covered in me just as I am covered in him.

I think about what he said and how they all basically said it.

How I keep being asked to choose.

I still don’t want to choose.

It feels like a helpless situation, being pulled in all directions. I approach an intersection and looking at the traffic light, a lightbulb goes off in my head. I stop where I am on the sidewalk to send the exact same text to all four of them.

“Can I see you on Saturday?”

I have no idea what it is that they'll say, but on the small chance that this goes the way I think it might, I might have found a catch. I smile to myself, no longer feeling as conflicted and walk to pick up some dessert to enjoy when I'm home.

Cake perhaps.

It seems fitting for an occasion where having cake and eating it too applies to more than just sweet nothings...

--

Part 6

I hope you liked the fifth chapter of my steamy fic. If you liked this, please comment, share, and like! I love seeing that :)

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[blogging-time]

When I Kissed The Teacher

Dialogue Prompt List – Long List My Fic Masterlist

Prompt: “Let’s drink wine and trash talk our co-workers.” - Logan and Roman. (Friendship) - Submitted by @louisthewarlock

Summary: Roman Crowne has just been dumped by yet another co-worker. Logan Sanders makes it his personal mission to console the heartbroken Spanish teacher while also convincing him to turn off that godforsaken ABBA soundtrack.

Warnings: Post Break-Up (Not Logince), Alcohol Mention.

Pairings: Platonic Logince/Foreshadowing Romantic Logince, Past Royality, Past Prinxiety, Past Roceit, Background Intruality.

Word Count: 1,688

~ ~ ~

“Well this seems like a perfectly healthy and not at all counter-intuitive way to conduct oneself post break-up,” Logan remarked as he slowly entered the almost vacant looking Spanish classroom.

The sight awaiting him was that of his co-worker – Roman Crowne – sitting slumped over a rather busy looking table, his unusually messy head of hair tucked uncomfortably between his hastily folded arms. Surrounding him were various pages that Logan couldn’t quite decipher, as well as some familiar looking textbooks that Roman would use to teach his sophomore classes when the school board once again forbid him from making “Pan’s Labyrinth” an official part of the school’s curriculum. The most notable item at Roman’s disposal however had to be his mobile phone, as it was currently playing “When I Kissed The Teacher,” repeatedly on Spotify.

“You know most people actually knock before inviting themselves into a colleague’s classroom, right?” Roman half-heartedly muttered against the cheap plywood.

“Well you should know that most teachers actually prefer to work at their own desks instead of downgrading to a small student’s table. I guess we’re both just feeling a little unconventional today.”

With a heavy sigh and even heavier limbs, the Spanish teacher finally mustered up the energy required to pry his face off the aforementioned table. As soon as the pair made eye-contact, Logan couldn’t help but smile sympathetically at Roman. No matter how many times he found the man in this heartbroken state his tearstained face simply never failed to upset him.

“There’s a window,” Roman responded vaguely before Logan could even make an awkward attempt to console him. Then, upon recognizing the science teacher’s confusion, he unenthusiastically waved his hand and explained, “There’s a window embedded in the door to this classroom – I’m sure you’re well aware of it. Had I chosen to lay about and wail over my lost love at my own desk then surely any old passer-by could have caught me in my moment of lament.”

As sympathetic as Logan was towards his friend’s situation, he still couldn’t help but roll his eyes at how dramatic the man was being.

“Janus Marshall merely terminated his relationship with you, Roman. He himself is not deceased.”

“Hark! For his love for me is dead at least – dead and buried beneath the heels of some younger, prettier thing! Its ghost takes the form of the man I once danced with, and it taunts me as I pass him by in the corridor on my way to lunch.”

“Would you kindly stop and think rationally for five minutes instead of writing another soliloquy?” Logan may sound exasperated, but in reality, he simply hates seeing his friend’s thoughts spiral out of control like this. “Janus made it abundantly clear to you months ago that he would be migrating to England at the end of the year in order to teach Psychology at Oxford. Since neither of you were ever interested in long-distance relationships, I thought this break-up would seem inevitable to you.”

Roman visibly deflated upon hearing such a logical argument, yet somehow Logan didn’t feel victorious.

“I know… I suppose I just got a little carried away again. Deep down I’d honestly hoped we’d be able to make it work.”

“But why?” Logan asked, “Why would you allow yourself to get your hopes up time and time again? Every time you’ve dated a colleague your relationship has ended within six months or less.”

“Now hold on just a moment, Charles Rush-In! Just because I happened to date – and consequently was dumped by – a few of my colleagues doesn’t mean having a relationship with one is inherently flawed and destined to fail.”

“While your current statistics would highly suggest otherwise, that isn’t the part that concerns me the most. What concerns me the most is that you’re clearly upset or made to feel uncomfortable every time you’re forced to work with an ex-partner.”

“Name one example.”

“Patton Hart.”

“You mean the Home Economics teacher? I love Patton! Well… not in that way… not anymore at least… Yeah things were a little awkward at first… and then things got awkward again eight months later when he asked if I would be okay with him dating my brother… but both of us are on very good terms now!”

Logan quirked an eyebrow at that, but ultimately decided it was Remus’ responsibility to tell Roman about his current engagement plans.

“Okay then, what about Virgil Rae?”

“Ah yes, the English teacher who never stopped reading too much into things.”

“You and him seem to argue a lot.”

“To be fair we also argued before and during our relationship too.”

Logan clicked his tongue in perfect time with ABBA before naming, “Janus Marshall.”

“That’s a fresh wound! It’s hardly fair for you to twist the knife in that!”

“I can’t help but disagree considering you’re currently spending your lunch break marking papers and crying in your classroom just to avoid encountering Janus – something you wouldn’t have to do if he wasn’t your colleague.”

Roman couldn’t deflate anymore, so instead he was forced to sink further down in his admittedly rather uncomfortable plastic chair. Mentally he made a note to stop by the thrift store and his aunt Dot’s place after work to see if he could somehow acquire twenty-six cheap cushions that would make hour long lessons in these chairs more comfortable for his students.

“Why are you so determined to prove the successful office romance trope is unattainable?” he asked in a voice that already sounded so defeated.

“Why are you so determined to prove me wrong?” Logan countered.

Roman met Logan’s eyes for just a moment before completely averting his gaze. Logan coughed into his elbow for just a second in a manner that conveniently covered both of his cheeks. A minute passed, and neither man acknowledged either his or his co-worker’s sudden actions.

Eventually Logan decided to break that uncomfortable minute of silence with a sigh of his own.

“Do you have another class immediately after lunch?”

“Not today. I was supposed to be teaching Freshman Spanish for the next hour, but apparently Principal Sanders has called in a public speaker. I won’t have a class again until last period. How about you?”

“It appears I’m in a similar situation. I typically have the hour free after lunch on a Thursday until my Juniors come in for their Chemistry class at 2PM. If the circumstances today were any different then I would undoubtedly use this time to either grade my students most recent homework or to formulate a lesson plan for next week.”

“If the circumstances were any different?” Roman asked with a raised eyebrow and an only slightly watery eye.

“I have a bottle of Chardonnay in my car,” Logan answered. Then, upon recognizing the Spanish teacher’s concern, he quickly waved his hands and explained, “Your brother gifted it to me a few weeks ago, stating that it may help me to ‘loosen up around handsome men,’ - only he used far more vulgar phrasing than I. I can assure you that I would never drink and drive. I’ve simply never felt the need to consume alcohol since receiving the gift, and so I let the bottle sit forgotten in my car until now.”

“What? I haven’t driven you to drink already have I?” Roman joked, but Logan didn’t miss the way another silent tear disobediently slid down his still reddened cheeks.

Again, neither man acknowledged the sudden presence of emotion.

“Believe me, Roman, if any Crowne were ever going to drive me to drink then it would most certainly be that unfathomable brother of yours. My idea was more along the lines of… well…” The science teacher paused for a moment as he remembered how much more important Roman was to him than his reputation. “Let’s drink wine and trash talk our co-workers.”

Upon proposing the idea, Logan let out a nervous breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding. Despite the simplicity of their plan, inviting Roman to share a glass of wine with him during work hours just so that they could say negative things about their generally very respectable colleagues to him felt so deeply personal and borderline exhilarating.

Roman must have recognised how much the offer meant to Logan, as he too seemed shocked that the usually oh-so calm and collected science teacher would propose something so unorthodox.

“You want to share a drink with me now?”

“Well encountering your colleagues won’t be an issue after work hours – Perhaps if we start highlighting all of their potential flaws now, you’ll be less inclined to test fate and pursue another doomed relationship with one of them later.”

“Hey!” Roman shouted incredulously, but he was genuinely laughing now.

The sound was so infectious that his co-worker soon found himself chuckling quietly to himself.

“I’ll ask the canteen staff if they can spare two small cups so we don’t drink too much,” Logan offered, “Plus I keep more than enough spare change in my wallet at all times to ensure we can afford a cab ride home. We won’t be stranded here at school if you accept. All I ask in return is that you turn off that infuriating song – I’ve heard it more than enough times now, thank you very much.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr Berry,” Roman responded, his lips forming a playful smirk as he pretended to mull the proposition over. “What album would you suggest we listen to in its place?”

“How about ‘The Wall’ by Pink Floyd? I believe I still have that cassette sitting in my car right now, along with ‘The Dark Side of the Moon.’”

“Oh, wow…” Roman drawled as he blinked his eyes rapidly in only semi-feigned surprise. “I think you just aged ten years for every word you just said, Lograndad.”

“Of course, you can always just sit here and listen to the sound of Janus’ voice instead.”

“On second thought-” Roman announced, standing up rather quickly as he grabbed his nearby coat and bag, “-Pink Floyd sounds like an excellent choice. Why don’t you lead the way?”

~ ~ ~

General Tag-List:

@sholaghhh (Formerly @lunamay2006) @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @saphael-malec102 @anastasialestina @seraphlies 

Additional Tags:

@sympathetic-deceit-trash

Note: It’s been a long time since I’ve posted a fic, so this tag-list may be a little outdated. If at any point you want to be added/removed from my tag-list then feel free to let me know!

As always, feedback is much appreciated! I was pretty out of practice here, so I’m sure I’d benefit a lot from constructive criticism!

For spelling, punctuation and grammar I followed Microsoft Word's English (UK) rules. Feel free to correct any errors you may find in the comments, but please keep in mind that some words are spelt differently here in the UK! 

I hope you’re all have a fan-der-tastic day!

~ ~ ~

[kisshuggay]

But Now...

Finally posting this. It was requested by lovely @ladystrangeandunusual who asked me to write a reunion fic. It took me quite a bit longer than I wanted it to get to a point I was happy with because I’ve been in a very bad state of mind. She probably thinks I wasn’t going to write this and I apologize. There might be a part 2 of this later but I’m not sure yet. I desperately wanted to make this kind of smut-y but I kept hitting writer’s block so it’s just kind of lemon zest. God, I feel old using that term. Anyway please enjoy this potential one-shot that might turn into something more  10 years to the moment Sarah wished Toby away Jareth comes back into her life to claim what is his.** **

“Thanks for letting me stay late Ian, I just hit my stride and I want to finish.”

“Hey, no problem Sarah, just lock up when you’re done.” the manager of the theater that Sarah was the head costume designer for, said as he slowly started taking a few steps to the door. When he reached it he paused and turned to the woman one more time. 

“Oh, and be careful a few stagehands have said that they heard something in the prop loft. It could be mice. Or maybe birds.  I’ve got exterminators coming in on Monday.”

“Thank you,” Sarah said distracted already as she started pinning the dress she was sewing. She hardly noticed Ian shake his head and leave. Too consumed with the dress in front of her. It was for the theatre’s production of Riptide, a play about lovers reunited in an unexpected way 10 years after they parted.

Despite the play being full of cliches, Sarah felt the need to give her all as she always did. When she was finished pinning the dress it looked stunning. Sarah found a strong connection to the dress starting from the first moment of sketching the first draft of the design. The dress felt familiar somehow. Perhaps it’s a dress she fantasized about a lot when she was younger during the dramatic recreations of her favorite books as a child. She is unsure because her memories have become blurred by time. The dress was far more elegant than anything she could have ever made in her teen years, or even into young adulthood.

  The dress was a beautiful cream almost white. It had complex beading details on the bodice, the sleeves were puffy to the elbow and then cinched tight to finish. When it was completed it would look like a fairytale-like it was “ Fit for a queen"  said a voice. Sarah was sure it was not her own inside her mind. The voice was familiar and filled her mind completely with shock and confusion. The shock of it made Sarah prick her finger. 

"Ouch!” she exclaimed the pain made her involuntarily jerk back, and at that moment something caught Sarah’s eye out the window she saw a large white owl. The creature was enormously huge for an owl and was very close to the window. It had an intense amount of intelligence in its eyes, and for a moment it was as if the bird was watching her. 

]“Get it together, Sarah” she muttered to herself as she got up to tend to her finger. As she moved across the room the owls’ predatory eyes were trained on her. Flutters of long-repressed memories threatened to breach the surface of her mind. Something was keeping them at bay and although Sarah was not aware of what it was she was grateful. 

“As my queen, no harm would come to you, unless I wish it,” The strange yet pleasing voice said in Sarah’s mind. It startled Sarah because for years she had heard and seen things others have not. She’d seen countless therapists and all said that she was fine, or wanted to work on other things, not the strange things she had seen and experienced. One had been slightly more helpful in saying that she probably had a repressed memory, but no effort to recover it had worked. Looking back out the window the owl had left and Sarah felt silly once again. She went back to her work and tried to fully immerse herself. Several hours have passed with her hearing a few more things in her mind, she ignored them, in fact, she began to make significant progress on the dress. 

“ You can’t ignore me much longer Sarah, the time is almost upon us,” the voice of smooth velvety tone seemed to echo off the walls of Sarah’s mind and replace all of her thoughts.

“It’s been 10 years my dear,” The voice continued this was the longest uninterrupted it had ever been in her mind. Sarah fought to gain control over her thoughts. The voice was persistent and there was a dark command to it. 

“What are you? Who are you?” Sarah asked aloud. 

"You cannot have forgotten after your so-called triumph over me did you, Sarah? I thought you were stronger than that.” The voice condescended. His voice was no longer inside her mind but echoing the room she was in. A silhouette of a man that should have looked odd and unnatural appeared in the doorway, but for some reason, the man seemed familiar. Sarah couldn’t quite place him but she couldn’t help but think that she knew something. 

Gasping as a sharp pain of several memories filled her mind, everything flooded back to her. She said the one thing that she remembered the most strongly in the moment aloud without even knowing she’d said it: "Fear me. Love me. Do as I say, and I shall be your slave” Sarah said followed by the man’s name “Jareth.” she confirmed as the Goblin King himself manifested in front of her.

 "Hello Sarah, the Goblin King appeared not to have changed still dressed and dark leather all high-collared and wild hair. The effect he had on her was amplified from the first time that she had met when she’d been a teen. At that time she had been unable to process his appearance and how it made her feel she only thought it apprehension and not attraction. But now…

He strode to her. Not taking his dark eyes off her body. He circled here almost like a predator. All of his movements were deliberate and cat-like. She was frozen to the spot shocked at the idea that she was a grown woman and yet still so afraid. 

“My my my, Sarah, just look at you.” He began as he towered over her when he got back to her front. 

“Y- you have no power over me,” she said trying to ignore her pounding heart. The words felt pitiful and rang untrue to her ears as soon as she said them. Even the first time she said them she didn’t completely believe them.

“If you believe that Sarah I wouldn’t be here. Would I?” Jareth leered at her.  Sarah raised her chin in defiance. She did not like how she wanted to agree readily to his words. She wanted to fight how his very presence in front of her made her feel.

 “I couldn’t possibly know what you mean,” she forced out trying to sound even half as confident as he did. The smirk that followed on his lips was reminiscent of a cat that cornered the mouse. 

“Indeed.” was all he said. He took a short half-step and then he was in her personal space. He smelled so inhuman and yet so enticing. Sweet, and entirely male.“ You haven’t forgotten about me, have you, my dear?”

“ You mean how you stole my little brother and then I beat your silly labyrinth?” 

Jareth moved in a cat-like quickness although he had already cornered Sarah. Now his hand had moved to her upper shoulder forcing her against the wall completely. Sarah’s mouth opens involuntarily as the air was forced from her body, with the shock of the move.

 “I only ever did what I was asked of me. You wanted me to take your brother,” he leaned into her personal space with every word. His voice was quiet but it held power. “You wanted to run the labyrinth, you were rather selfish You made several demands of me, I only did as you asked.” By the time he finished, they were all but touching. Jareth made a point to not touch her, his body ghosting over hers. He wanted to prove to her how needed she was. Sarah stared up at him her eyes defiant she was not going to cower to him, nor was she going to show him how his close proximity was affecting her.

“ You were cruel. Needlessly so,” she said, surprised how her voice matched his quiet power.

“Not cruel Sarah, I can be if you lead me to it. I have where you are concerned had great self-control. When you left I realized that by your human lifespan you were not prepared to join with me completely, but now…” he trailed off deliberately he let his hand rest more firmly on her body. He slowly traced it along from her shoulder to her neck. He laid it to rest on her clavicle, he hummed and appreciated the lovely flush that her cheeks turned to, be it from anger or arousal it mattered not. 

“Why are you here? I haven’t wished…? I never spoke the words.” Sarah said, trying to make her face blank. 

“It was 10 years exactly Sarah, the spell that was cast over you was to be released 10 years from when you spoke the words. I was going to be here to claim what is rightfully mine.” 

“What’s rightfully yours?” Sarah couldn’t help but ask. 

“You Sarah you are mine.” He murmured his breath tickling her face and making her shiver. There was no denying how she felt at this moment. He leaned in and before Sarah could protest their mouths were together Jareth’s mouth tastes of honey and metallic something that is distinctly not human. Before it can be processed by Sarah he pulls away. He’s back to cornering her but not touching her.

“How dare you,” Sarah practically spits her wits coming back to her as she raises her arms to try and shove him away, or at least get some distance so she can assess herself. Chuckling to himself as if he finds her cute at the moment, he captures her arms in one of his hands lifting them above her head.

“Sarah, don’t you understand? I’m not hurting you.” He purrs in her ear. Keeping the same distance with his body, but his mouth is still dangerously close to hers. His eyes roam over her face truly taking in everything about her, there was a wave of emotions over her lovely face there was confusion, want determination, maybe hate definitely lust.  He could work with that.

“Even now Sarah, I am only doing what you want of me.” She only blinked back at him. To prove his point he takes his hand that is pinning her arms to the wall and moves it to her face. It’s subtle at first, her eyes start to close and she leans into his hand.her breathing is shallow. 

“See my Sarah, you want all I can give you. Don’t fight me.”He softly commands as he claims her mouth again. This time he wants it lasts long enough for Sarah to respond. Soon she kisses him back she moans into his mouth. It actually feels so good to finally kiss him, now that she remembers everything. It all makes sense, she has always been in love with him after all no one could ever compare. When the kiss breaks she’s breathing heavy and her logic has returned to her but this time she has all the facts. Her heart is still beating just for him.

 She whispers “Why me?” the Goblin King gins with a genuine smile “The ocean does not speak of love to the moon, and yet it’s every action shows its devotion to the moon’s rule over it.”

 “Oh,”  Sarah says plainly at first and then a second time with more understanding. This man before her once had something similar to her. He was at least implying that he loved her in some way. Devotion was a lot, she could work with that.

[talpup]

Light In the Darkness

Trying something new. Though I prefer reading off AO3, I’m gonna try posting the full chapter here since it might be easier for some.  Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, eventual sexual behavior, and other possible triggers.

***If you prefer reading off AO3 here’s the link for that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887595/chapters/49650020

9.1

Without word Julius followed Marx down to the main level and out of Magic Investigations.

Still not knowing exactly why Greywright had come or what their superiors had been caught attempting to do Yami and Teris followed in Marx and Julius’ wake unable to think of something to do or say that would help ease the sting Julius was obviously still reeling from.

Marx opened one of the main entrance doors for them watching the Azure Deer Captain exit and stop.  Yami and Teris simply stood there behind him waiting in uncomfortable silence.

The Investigations Mage tapped his foot silently arguing with himself. Julius could be an annoying nuisance but all in all he was a good guy; one that Marx considered a friend, though he would smartly deny it if anyone ever asked.  Marx could understand why the Wizard King would want to be informed about the discovery of the History of Chaos.  He could even understand why Sir Jorah may have expected a more immediate notification of its finding than the usual report. But from what he could gather, it wasn’t the discovery of the history itself that had caused the fuss; but rather that the two young Magic Knights behind Julius had discovered it.

Though Julius truly had never mentioned his sister to him, Marx had known that the the Azure Deers Captains had one and that, by all reports, he cared for her dearly.  Still, Julius’ near consuming desire to become the next Wizard King was even more well known.  Marx wondered what could make the Captain willing to jeopardize Sir Jorah’s favor.  He figured it would have to be something extraordinary.

Coming to a decision Marx followed them out letting the door close behind him.  If he was questioned about his actions later, he could always say he assumed that the Magic Knights Commander had wished him to go with them.  An easy misunderstanding given that the Commander had ordered the two Magic Knights and himself out of the room, and didn’t specify who was to go and wait at the cafe.

“Do you know the way to this dining hall we’re suppose to wait at?” Yami asked softly, glancing at Teris before his light brown eyes returned to his distressed mentor’s stooped back.

Teris shook her head.  If they had been near the Captains Lounge, where she had occasionally waited outside for Julius before heading with him to the cafe, she might have been able to lead them there.  But she had never even seen this area of Headquarters and couldn’t begin to guess how to get to the cafe.

“Juls.” Teris ventured, gently.

“It’s alright.”  Marx sighed, passing them.  “I know where it is.”

Yami and Teris looked at each before hurrying to follow the Investigations Mage.  After a dozen steps Teris looked back, relieved to see Julius lagging behind.

“At least he’s moving again,” Yami comforted.

“What do you think all of that was about.”  Teris whispered, looking at Marx’s back, wondering if he was trying to listen.

“You heard Greywright.  They thought they could get around Jorah’s command by taking us to Magic Investigations and letting someone there unwittingly tell us what’s going on.”

“But what does our receiving the History of Chaos have to do with any of the stuff they’re keeping from us?” Teris asked.  “It’s not like Sir Jorah knew we would find the thing.  Right?”

“They say the Wizard King is aware of a lot of things without having been told,” Yami said.  He shrugged.  “Maybe our names were scribbled in one of Yurist’s journals somewhere between a mention of Chaos and how many times he sneezed that day.”

“That’s just creepy.”  Teris thought aloud.  If Sir Jorah had somehow known that they were meant to find the History of Chaos, did that mean that he had assigned them this mission knowing that the history was in the newly appeared labyrinth?

“I know,” Yami agreed.  “Who catalogs what their burbs tasted like?”

The corner of Teris lip twitched upward at that, grateful for how he could make light of practically any situation and calm her.

Yami relaxed some.  He had gotten Teris to nearly smile.  Now if they could only get Julius speaking again, maybe he wouldn’t feel so on edge.

9.2

Julius had gathered himself by the time they had entered the cafe.  Looking around he pointed to a corner.

“You two go sit over there.”  He told Yami and Teris.

With how hot and breathless she felt even beside Yami’s cool, sheltering mana, the thought of being shoved away in some corner indoors only made Teris feel more closed in and breathless.

Not wanting to challenge her brother, but thinking that she wouldn’t be able to take another few minutes indoors without loosing it Teris said.  “I don’t want to sit inside.”

Yami winced.  He understood her reasoning.  He could feel her screaming, turbulent mana and Ki so keenly it almost felt as if it was his own. No doubt her worsening state had to do with her acute sense of his own swirling storm of mana.  Still, to Julius’ ears her fervent plea for space and air likely sounded more like she was being a bratty, whiny little sister.

“Then sit wherever!”  Julius snapped harshly, receiving a few stares from others nearby.  His hand trembled as it wiped his brow.  Tempering his tone and volume he went on. “Just--” he looked at Yami and Teris imploringly, “--stay put and don’t sit next to or talk to anyone else.  Please.”

“Alright.” Teris nodded.

As Teris and Yami headed outside, Marx made to follow them.

“Marx,” Julius called.

The Investigations Mage turned noticing how the two young Magic Knights suddenly slowed their step.  “Yes?”

“I know this might be asking a lot...”

When Julius didn’t go on, Marx prompted.  “If it is within my ability and won’t get me into too much trouble I’ll do it.”

Julius who had paused to think turned his eyes on his friend and gave a mirthless smile.  “I think I’ve caused a months worth of trouble for you already.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”  Marx dismissed.  “Let’s go with a weeks worth.”

If only the trouble he was in would be done with so quickly, Julius thought.  Sure some other thing would occur that caused a ruckus, but his actions today won’t be forgotten.  Sir Jorah wouldn’t forget or forgive anytime soon.

Seeing Julius’ expression become disturbed again, Marx asked.  “How can I help?”

“Right.” Julius ran a hand through his hair rubbing his head almost roughly. “Can I used your communication crystal?”

“My communication crystal?”  Marx repeated.

“You have one right.  Every on duty Senior Investigations Mage is suppose to carry one.  Did you leave it in Magic Investigation?”

“No.” Marx shook his head pulling out the faceted clear, hand length item. “But where’s yours?”

Julius held his hand out to receive the device.  “I left it at my base.” He answered looking chagrined.

“Aren’t all Magic Knights Captains suppose to have a communication crystal on their person when they go out in official capacity?”

“It wasn’t a mission I or a member of my squad were involved with.” Julius explained lamely.  “I didn’t expect all—this.”

Marx placed the crystal in the Captain's hand.

“Thank you.”  Julius breathed gratefully.  “I won’t forget this.”

“You better not,” Marx said.

“Can you--”

Marx eyed him through stilted eyelids.

“Can you watch them.  Make sure they do go anywhere.  Talk to anyone.”

“You think they’ll take a runner?”  Marx jested dryly.

“After the day I’ve had I’m not taking anymore chances,” Julius told.

Marx gave a thin smile.  “Good.  I don’t know or want to know why you did what you did.  But, it’s good to see you returning to your usual careful, exacting self.  It’s what’s going to set you above the others and see you become the next Wizard King.”

Julius watched him turn and go outside.  “Possibly.”  He muttered to himself.  “If I didn’t blown my chances with today's actions.”

9.2.2

As soon as Marx joined them outside, Yami and Teris fell silent.

Taking a seat across from them, the Investigations Mage encouraged, smiling tightly.  “Do let me interrupt.”

The two Magic Knights merely stared at him.

After an uncomfortable silence Marx tried again.  “Not looking forward to summer, uh?”  When no response came he went on.  “Sitting in the shade with this unseasonable chill.”

“We’re not suppose to be sitting or speaking with anyone else.”  Yami told, after a moments passing.

Teris tilted her head as she stared at Marx.  Finally, she questioned. “You don’t like us do you?”

Marx blinked at that.  “I don’t know you.”

“Mushroom Head doesn’t like anyone.”  Yami said, to Teris.  “He can barely admit to himself that Julius is a friend.”

“I--” Marx stopped.

As much as he hated to admit it, the boy had a point.  Julius was his closest friend.  His only friend really.  And he could hardly stand to view him as such.

“The name is Marx.  Not Mushroom Head.”  Marx corrected, lamely.

“I’m hungry.”  Yami expelled, rolling his head back.

“Greywright did tell us to get something to eat,” Teris remembered.

“You’re right.”  Yami agreed, righting his head.  “He ordered us to even.”

In near unison, they turned to Marx.

“What?” Marx asked.  “I’m not your servant.”

“But we were told to stay put,” Teris reminded.

Marx closed his eyes and ground his teeth.  “I don’t have any money on me,” he told.

Teris reached into the money purse attached to her belt and pulled out enough for two weeks worth of meals.

“Is that enough?”  She asked.

When Marx didn’t answer she moved to pull out more.

“No!” Marx held out a hand.  “That’s--”  He blinked in disbelief. “That’s more than enough.  The menu changes daily.  Is there anything you’d prefer or definitely don’t want?”

“We’re really hungry.  Just get us one of everything,” Teris said.

Yami nodded.

Marx balked.

Teris tilted her head toward Yami.  “He can eat a lot.  And I mean, a lot.”

Yami nodded again.

“Alright.” Marx sighed, under his breath.  Standing he scoped up the yules and walked off.

“Oh! And keep the change.”  Teris called after him.

Yami looked at her eyebrow raised.  “Do you realize how much you gave him?  He could probably buy all the food this place has on hand with that.”

Teris looked at him.  “You over exaggerate.  Maybe half the food.”

“So you do know how much you handed over and just told him to keep.”

Teris nodded and shrugged.  “He was kind to my brother.  And put up relatively well with us.”

Yami laughed.  “A royal that knows what their money’s worth to the masses, and is generous.  No wonder I love you.”

Teris turned away quickly, suddenly interested in the tabletop.

Yami smirked, enjoying the blush that tinted her cheeks.

“You know, I fully planned on paying for our first date.”  He said, stretching out his arm on the back of the bench behind her.

Teris’ eyes turned to watch Yami’s hand hang just past her shoulder.

“This isn’t a date.”  She said, unable to look at him.

“We’re out together.  Having a meal.  What else would you call it?”

“Thank mana you’re here.”  Julius breathed, rushing over.  He plopped into a chair and looked around the table.  “What did you two do to Marx?”

“Nothing,” Teris said.

Julius’ eyes stilted.  “Then where is he?”

“He went to get us food,” Teris clipped.  “For the love of mana. What do you think we did with him?”

Lightening, Julius said.  “I could eat.”

“Then go get your own,” Teris told.

“He’s only bringing enough for us,” Yami stated.

“I didn’t know if you meant one of everything they had on the menu, or just the lunch and dinner dishes so there’s some leftover breakfast items and desserts.”  Marx said, wheeling over a trolley full of food.  He put the change on the table.  “I can’t keep that no matter what you say.”

“No worries, Marx.”  Julius said, sliding the change to him and pocketing it.  He handed the communication crystal back to the Investigations Mage.  “Thanks again.”

“Oui! That’s my money,” Teris scolded.

“Sounded to me like you told Marx to keep whatever was left.  Meaning it was his money, which, as my good friend, he gave to me.  Now,” Julius turned to the trolley picking up a plate of quail eggs and vegetables, “this smells delicious.”

Teris glared at her brother.

Julius stuffed a forkful of food into his mouth.  After a few bites he smiled, swallowing.  “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”  He patted a chair.  “Sit Marx.  Pick a plate.  That beef and noodle looks good.”

“Can I have a plate of the food I paid for.”  Teris questioned, archly.

“Nope.” Julius said, giving his head a shake.

Marx looked at the siblings thinking that he had been wrong in his belief that Julius couldn’t be any more trying.  Reaching to the trolley he began setting plates on the table.

Yami and Teris practically lunged at the first two entrees he set down, pulling the plates to them, and eating without cutlery.  Yami in great handfuls.  Teris more carefully in three fingered bunches.

Marx slid over utensils and napkins as if he were making an offering to two starving beasts and was afraid they’d try to devour him if he called too much attention to himself.

“Thank you.”  Teris said, grabbing a napkin and cleaning her fingers.  She passed a set of silverware and a napkin to Yami.  “Don’t be a pig.”

Yami grunted and took her offering.  Without bothering to clean his hands he picked up spoon.  When the saucy noodles and vegetables slid off the utensil he tossed the spoon on floor and picked up a fork, missing the chopsticks of his homeland.

Well, Marx thought unable to look away from the sight, at least they’re not using their hands any more.  He took the seat next to Julius’ right and tried to look anywhere but at Yami and Teris devouring their food.  He noticed for the first time just how intricate the design on the tabletops were.

“Eat, Marx,” Julius urged.

Marx glanced at the two young Magic Knights and swallowed.  “I don’t think I could if I tried,” he said.

Julius shrugged and reached for the plate of pan seared fish with grains and crispy, fried greens; but Teris snatched it up first.

“I wanted that,” Julius complained.

“To slow,” Teris tisked.

“Don’t make me use my magic to reverse time.”  Julius threatened, staring across the table at her.

Teris lean forward.  “Try me.”

Julius’ shoulders slumped.  He scanned the remaining plates trying to decide. Finally he reached for the bowel of sausage and cabbage with rice only to have Yami beat him to it.

Yami gave his mentor a smirk before he dug his fork into the soupy goodness only to see all the savory juices drain between the tines. Glaring at the offending cutlery Yami threw it on the table where gave a high bounce and sat rattling.  He looked about before recalling he threw his spoon away and reached for Teris’.

Teris gave his hand a smart slap only to pick up the utensil and hold it up for him to take.

Reminded of his manners, Yami took the spoon and mumbled.  “Thank you.”

Once their hunger hand been stated the three Magic Knights sat back restfully.

“What now,” Marx asked.

“We wait.”  Julius said, rapping his knuckles on the table.

“How long do you think Greywright’s going to be?”  Teris asked.

“Hopefully long enough for your Captain to arrive and give us a chance to talk.” Julius said looking off into the distance.

“That’s what you did?”  Marx asked, touching the communication stone that sat in the breast pocket of his cloak.

“We messed up.”  Julius said, not hearing Marx’s question.  He covered his face with his hands and sighed scrubbing his fingers roughly down his face.  “I messed up.”

“What were you hoping to do?”  Marx asked.

“Better question, what does this Chaos business have to do with the other stuff we’re not suppose to talk or ask about?”  Teris wondered.

Julius raised his eyes to her and slowly shook his head.

“But, I don’t understand,” she complained.  “So what if--” she glanced at Marx, “all that interaction stuff happened.”  She said referring to her and Yami’s magic.  “It’s under control now. Yami and I even managed to--”

Julius’ eyes snapped up.  “Managed to what?”

Yami and Teris looked at each other, but neither said a word.

“Teris. Managed to what?”  Julius asked, his tone a mixture of scolding and unsettled warning.  He watched the two remain tight lipped for a moment, before exclaiming.  “Come on guys!  I stuck my neck out in the hopes you might learn something without us having to go against Sir Jorah.  I may have even lost any hope I had at being a candidate for the next Wizard King for the two of you.  The least--”

“And why did you feel the need to attempt such a thing?”  Teris wanted to know.  “I could see Bronn trying what you did.  If he but had the brains to think of it.  I could even understand Captain Jax coming up with such a plan.  But this was all you.  And never in my wildest imaginings would I have thought you’d even consider trying to circumvent an order by clever reinterpretation.  That is, unless you believed lives depended on your doing so.  So I ask again.  Why, Julius?”

“I—don’t— I can’t, Ris.  Please.  Please, don’t pressure me.  Please, don’t make me throw away any remaining chance I have at my dream.” Julius sucked in a halting breath and clenched his teeth.

He shook his head and looked at Teris with the saddest, tortured, most beseeching expression she had ever seen.

“Juls.” She breathed, heart breaking for him.  She hated herself.  She hated the Wizard King.  She almost even hated what she and Yami had.  In that moment she would have done anything to stop the torment her brother was so obviously feeling.

“Cause if you ask me again… I’m afraid I’ll tell you.  Consequences be damned.”  Julius told her.

“I trust you, Juls,” Teris affirmed.  “I won’t ask you again.  I promise.”

Julius gave her a weak smile wondering if her trust in him was misplaced. In his mind he believed that he wouldn’t allow her or Yami’s lives to be put at any real risk to save his career; but in his heart he questioned if that was exactly what he was doing.

“I got you Ris.”  He said, unsure if that was actually true.  “Always have.  Always will.”

Teris thought of the day he had left Nova House.  Had left their father when he was still in a coma.  Had left their brother, who was floundering as he tried to run things and quell the swelling rumors. Had left her.  She wondered how bad things would have been if the Vermilion's hadn’t opened their home and taken her in shortly there after.  No, Julius hadn’t always had her.  She wasn’t sure she trusted him to have her back in all things now.  But, she trusted him in this.  And for now, that was enough.

“I know,” she said.

“Great. Now that you’ve agreed to stop harassing my friend for information you been repeatedly told you can’t have, can we get to the trouble at hand.”

They all turned to see Jax standing at the patios exterior entrance.

“Why is everybody here?”  Yami asked his Captain.

“Who exactly is everybody?”  Jax retorted.

“The Black Bulls,” Yami responded.

“I didn’t bring the entire squad,” Jax replied.  “Only the ones who were at the labyrinth.”

“Yeah, everybody,” Yami said.

“No, it’s not,” Abril challenged.  “Gendry and Iban aren’t here.” She looked around.  “Neither is Bronn.”

“I’m sure he’ll be here shortly with Commander Greywright.”  Jax said, ominously.  “Julius.  What do you say we go inside and discuss damage control?”

“I’m comfortable here,” Yami said.

Jax looked over at Yami, his eyes sharp and cold.  “I didn’t mean we as in you.”  He said, his tone just as icy.  Opening and closing a fist, he muttered.  “Where’s Bronn when you need him?”

Yami rubbed the back of his neck at the thought of the Vice Captain’s vise-like hand.  “It’s alright.  I understand.  You want us to wait here while you and Captain Julius go inside to talk.”

Jax thought the added Captain was a nice touch from Yami’s backtrack. Fact of the matter was, they didn’t have time for him to waste disciplining Yami.  He turned to Julius.  “Why aren’t you up yet?”

“The cafe is hardly the place to do this,” Julius said.  “With workers and customers, someone’s likely to over hear, making this a bigger mess than it already is.”

“Than you already made it,” Jax corrected.  At his friends pained expression and lowered head, the Black Bulls Captain heartened. “Come on, Julius.  You were only doing what you thought was best.”

“Yeah,” Julius agreed.  “How could I think I knew better than Sir Jorah?”

“Caused those two aren’t part of the Wizard Kings family,” Jax said.

“And if I, despite this blunder, somehow become the next Wizard King, they won’t be mine either,” Julius argued.

“That’s future stuff.  Right now those ties still bind.  And you feel responsible for your little sister and—whatever non-blood tied relation you see Yami as.  And rightly so.”

Julius looked at Jax grateful to be told that what he felt was okay for him to be feeling.

“Besides,” Jax went on, “I already bought the place out for today and sent everyone home so we could openly speak in peace.”

“You bought all the food they had for the day?”  Julius questioned, blinking in surprise.

“Sure did,” Jax nodded.

Thinking about how his friend usually spent his pay on drink and gambling within the first week or so of receiving it, Julius wondered.  “How did you manage that?”

“Put it on your tab,” Jax shrugged.

“What!”

“It’s not as if you can’t afford it,” Jax said.  “Now hurry.  We don’t have much time before Greywright bursts in and rips us a new one.”

“You’re right about that.”  The Magic Knights Commander said from the cafe’s patio entrance.

Jax cursed under his breath.

Julius shot to his feet.  “Commander.  I want to say--”

“Nothing,” Greywright interrupted.  “You want to stay silent and say nothing.”

Julius straightened, almost standing at full attention.

“That was quick.”  Jax commented, glancing at Bronn trying to read his Vice Captain's expression.  “And you managed to pick up traitors on the way over here.”  He glared at Pyter and members of his Silver Eagles.

“I don’t think you know what the term means if you’re using it to describe my actions rather than your own.”  Pyter said, doing a poor job of hiding his smug smile.

“Stop,” Greywright ordered.  “Both of you.”  He looked the gathering over sighing before turning back to Julius.  “I’m glad you bought the place out and did some of my work for me in calling Jax and his Black Bulls here.  Though if you hadn’t been so impudent and acted with such puerile thoughtless abandon, none of this would have been necessary.”

Head lowered, ears red with embarrassment and shame, Julius wanted nothing more than to use his time magic and go back to do it all over again. But, as much as his friends might jest otherwise, his magic didn’t work that way.

The Knights Commander turned to those who had arrived with him and barked.  “Don’t just stand there.  Head inside and take a seat.” He looked at Jax and his Black Bulls, then the group at the table. “You lot too.  Inside.  We’re fixing this as best we can right here, right now.”

“What of passersby?”  Julius asked.

Greywright pinned him with a stare.  “If only you were this concerned about secrecy before you tried to worm your way around standing orders.”

Julius swallowed, flushing with contrite guilt.

“Who do you think I am?”  Greywright questioned the Azure Deers Captain. “My army magic men will see we are free of eavesdroppers and remain undisturbed till I am fully satisfied that we have staunched this unwanted and entirely unnecessary flow.  Now get inside.”

As if Bronn’s haggard countenance wasn’t telling enough, Greywright’s rigid stance and barking orders as he ushered them inside and had them sit exactly where he wanted were a sure sign that the Knights Commanders fiery anger hadn’t diminished since his appearance at Magic Investigations

Standing in front of them all Greywright began pointing at the two tables where the Olsen, Tobin, Venice, and Abril of the Black Bulls and Neyres, Margery, and Curtis of the Silver Eagles, as well as Marx had been placed.  “Short and sweet for you seven.”  Greywright started then stopped eyebrows pulling together at the sight of eight. “Who are you?”  He demanded of Marx.  “You’re not one of mine.”

“My name is Marx Francois.”  Marx answered, hoarsely.  Clearing his throat, he went on.  “I’m a Senior Investigations Mage.”

“You’re one of Ellara’s,” Greywright accused.  “Why are you here being my problem?  She’s likely looking for you as she’ll be doing the same as I with anyone Julius involved in his little scheme.”  He tossed another fuming look at the Azure Deers Captain.

Marx blanched.  Yes Commander Greywright was scary; but he wasn’t Marx’s superior, Advisor Ellara was.  And the thought of her angerly standing before him and Elric filled him will a fear the Knights Commander couldn’t hope to achieve.

“I—you--” Marx’s prepared response as to why he had come with the Magic Knights caught in his throat.

“Never mind.”  Greywright said, looking away.  “As I was saying, for you eight this is going to be short and sweet.  Speak of nothing that happened today.”

The Black Bulls and Silver Eagles looked at each other.

“If that isn’t clear enough for you.  Let me explain further so there are no doubts or work arounds.”  The Knights Commander cast yet another ire-filled look at Julius who seemed to shrink further in his seat with every reference and remark Greywright made towards him. “The Wizard King has commanded that of the History of Chaos.  The Future of Chaos.  Chaos in general.  And Mage Yurist is hereby deemed classified and not to be spoken of, mentioned, or even hinted at without authorization from Sir Jorah, Advisor Ellara, or myself.  If anyone mentions, hints, or writes about these topics in your presence you are to come directly to me and report it.  I don’t care who they are.  Stranger, comrade, Captain, parent.  You report it straight away.  Along with not speaking of, hinting at, or writing about these subjects; you are not to encourage or, in any way, attempt to elicit someone else to speak of, hint at, or write about these subjects or anything remotely related to them.  If you do any of these things the Wizard King has declared that you will be stripped of your rank.  Your awards and medals will be confiscated, and you will be dishonorably discharged from the Magic Knights.  You may also face a prison sentence, depending on how grave the offense was and what, if anything, happened because of it.”

The Black Bulls and Silver Eagles sat in stunned silence, astound and overwhelmed by the inexplicable escalation of what had already seemed a fairly sever circumstance when they had been gathered outside of the labyrinth.

Marx too had been rendered speechless, too terrified by the magic Knights Commander’s words to think how wrong he had been in his earlier thinking that Greywright couldn’t fill him with the same level of fear that Advisor Ellara could.

Not for the first time, the Investigations Mage wondered what Julius had done or, more correctly, had attempted to do.  He turned his eyes to his friend, curious if Julius had given pause before involving him or simply hadn’t cared.  As meticulous and thought out as the Captain was, in this instance it was more likely that Julius hadn’t considered what would happen he was caught, if he had even given thought to the possibility of getting caught at all.

“Any questions?”  Greywright asked, looking at the four Black Bulls, three Silver Eagles, and Investigations Mage one at a time.  When no questions came he encouraged.  “If you are uncertain on even the smallest of details concerning these orders, now is the time to ask and make certain.  Going against them, even unknowingly or unintentionally, will not lessen the resulting consequences of your actions.”

Marx’s eyes slowly moved to looked over the three Magic Knights seated at the table with him.  He then turned his gaze to take in the four Black Bulls at the next table over.  When no one raised their hand or spoke up, Marx released a breath of relief.

After a moment Greywright dismissed.  “You seven wait outside on the patio for your Captains.  You,” he pointed at Marx, “back to Investigations with you.  Check in with Ellara.  See if she has anything further she wishes to tell you.”

Marx swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.  He was not looking forward to that encounter.  See what happens when you do people favors, he told himself.  The one and only time he had stepped out and tried to be a friend by doing something for the one person in his life he had ever felt affable towards, and this was what happened.  Never again, he told himself.  Never again.

“Now!” Greywright shouted when none of them moved.

The eight of them jumped up and rushed out.

Greywright waited till the doors to the patio were fully closed before turning to Nozel and Danior.  “Those same orders go for you two.  If for whatever reason you believe what you may hear next might lead to difficulties in keeping those orders you may join your comrades outside with no ill regard.”

While he didn’t see how or why he would have trouble keeping any order, especially one relayed by the Knights Commander from the Wizard King himself, Danior stood wanting no future part in whatever this was. When Nozel didn’t do likewise the Silver Eagle turned, looking down at the seated royal.  “You can’t be serious!  You plan on staying?”

Nozel kept his eyes straight ahead, ignoring the noble.

“I don’t know what this is, but it’s some high level, bad stuff.” Danior whispered harshly to Nozel.  “What?  You think staying and being party to whatever this is will somehow help with your career as a Magic Knight?  Cause I can tell you the opposite is true.”

Eyes remaining forward, the only sign Nozel gave that he had heard the other man was a small, tired sigh.

“Fine,” Danior spat.  “You’re a royal, and heir at that.  You probably don’t care how far you go here, but I do.”

Greywright watched the young noble go.  Turning back to Nozel the Commander said.  “Your comrade’s not entirely wrong.  This is high level stuff.”  He paused watching the royal a moment.  “If you’re hoping to get answers as to what’s going on you’ll be more frustrated than ever when the time comes and I tell you to leave.” He shook his head.  “There are no answers for the likes of you. Just more gag orders on things you don’t even know.  Just ask those two.”  He gestured to Yami and Teris.  “The matter concerns them directly and they know next to nothing.”

“Less than nothing,” Yami complained.

Nozel looked up at the Magic Knights Commander wondering why the man had left the option to remain.  Did Commander Greywright want them to stay and get what little information they could to help them in their own secret searching for answers?  The Commander was no fool.  Surely he had to know that that’s what would happen here.

“If you wish me to leave, Sir, simply say so.  If not, I’d like to stay till you do.”  Nozel said.

“Very well.”  Greywright said wondering if, as Danior had said, Nozel’s desire to stay was out of thoughts of his future as a Magic Knight, or if it was concern and duty to protect his Intended.

The Silver Eagles Captain gave Nozel a small proud nod.  Seeing his Captain's approval, Nozel relaxed some.

“I’ve read Nozel and Danior’s full report of the labyrinth's mission,” Greywright began.

“Kiss ass over achiever.”  Bronn muttered about Pyter.

“What’d you make the poor boys do?”  Jax questioned the Silver Eagles Captain.  “Write it up while at the healing mages?”

“Actually, I had them write it on the way to the healing mages.”  Pyter said, lacing his fingers.  “Considering I don’t have a spatial mage in my squad, there was plenty of time for them to get it done while I personally transported them to Healers Hall.”  He shrugged a shoulder.  “Who knows when they would have had a chance to get their reports done if you had offered to take us with you, Bronn. So, thank you for that.”

Bronn curled his lip.  He wondered, yet again, if things might have gone differently if he had simply played nice with the Silver Eagles Captain and let them come.  No, he thought, Pyter was a brown nosed snake.  All it would have done was delayed what was happening.  But maybe it would have delayed it enough for those two kids to get some answers, the Vice Captain thought sullenly as he looked over at Yami and Teris.

“And questioned them personally.”  Greywright continued loudly.  If anyone had told him just how much being Magic Knights Commander was nothing more than playing nursery maid to a group of grown adults, he wondered if his younger self would've wanted the job.  Turning to Yami and Teris, he said.  “I understand that you two have not had the chance to pen your reports what with your more extensive injuries and side trip to Magic Investigations”  Again, he shot a glare at Julius.

Yami saw where this was going and said.  “I gave a verbal summary--”

“So Captain Pyter said,” Greywright nodded.

“Well, aren’t you just a wealth of information.”  Bronn said snidely to Pyter, crossing his arms.

Before the two could get into it again Greywright told Yami and Teris.  “But I want one from both of you, now.”

“A written report,” Teris asked.

“A verbal one will suffice for now,” Greywright said.  “And not a summary.  A full retelling.”

Yami and Teris looked at each other.

“Something the matter?”  Greywright asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Just trying to decide who goes first.”  Yami deflected.

“Since you already gave bits and pieces of yours why don’t you start again and give it all this time,” Greywright suggested.

“Alright,” Yami sighed and began.

He gave a full but not overly detailed telling.  His aim of skimming over the blow by blow, so to speak, or which spells he used was so that when the time came to tell of the final beast he had faced down with Teris, he could skim over exactly how they defeated it.  He got to the point where they had entered the vault giving an inward sigh of relief that Greywright hadn’t stopped him to ask for further details.  Like before, he left many of the details about what happened when they received the History of Chaos out.  He told only of what they had done, not what had happened to them or what they had seen.  He also didn’t mention the nap they took, only saying that they were left weakened and collapsed.

Finished Yami waited to see what, if any questions, the Magic Knights Commander was going to ask.  He felt as if Greywright was hiding something, but considering that he knew the Commander was keeping things from them it was difficult to tell if it was more of the same or something else.

Greywright turned to Teris.  “Your turn.”

This was the first time Yami had heard what she had faced after the creature had wrapped it’s tentacle around her ankle and pulled her down.  It wasn’t pretty and angered him all over again.  Like Yami, Teris didn’t go into much detail when it came to the fights or traps.  In fact, the most detail she gave was what kind of beasts or traps she faced and whether it took effort or not to disarmed or killed.  She gave the same treatment Yami had when she arrived to the vault portion of her narration, skimming over the feeling of their hands having been branded and their shared but distinct experience of what had appeared to be the end.

Greywright stood silently for a moment after she had finished.  Finally he said. “Nozel, I know I made it sound as if I was done with you and your report, but can you tell me what the chamber before the vault looked like?”

Nozel tensed.  While Danior hadn’t known what he had been looking at, Nozel had instantly known.  After having witnessed Teris and Yami’s devastating and powerful combination of magic twice, once far closer than he ever wanted to again, there had been no doubt.  He felt Teris and Yami’s eyes on him.  Unable to look at his Intended, he began slowly explaining the chambers appearance.

“No,” Greywright silenced.  “The scene of the dead creature these two faced.”

Feeling hot Nozel swallowed.

Sucking in a long breath through his nose the royal lifted his head, and said.  “There was lots of blood and guts.”

“And what did it look like?”  The Commander prompted.

“Red and chunky,” Nozel answered.

Greywright gritted his teeth at the younger mans smart ass reply.  If the situation were different he might have appreciated the sassed response; but at present, he was not in the mood.

“How were the remains situated?”  Greywright pressed.

“Scattered about in a circle.”

“How many circles?”

Nozel paused.

“I asked you a question Junior Magic Knight.  How.  Many.  Circles.”

“Two.” Nozel answered, almost inaudibly, lowering his eyes.

Greywright turned to Yami and Teris.  “Did you two combine your magic to defeat that beast?”

“Why ask when you already know the answer.”  Yami replied.

“Teris?” Greywright asked, turning his gaze to her.

“Would you rather us die down there?”  She asked.

“From the sounds of it, if you had held out just a little longer Nozel and Danior would have arrived to aide you,” Greywright said.  “That is unless you are leaving more out for your reports than this one thing.”

Teris’ toes curled within her boots.  Did Greywright know there was more to the vault portion as well or was he fishing just in case.

“The Silver Eagles left us down there.”  Yami said.  “And you expect us to have counted on their aid?”

“You didn’t know they had returned to the surface while you were down there,” Greywright pointed out.  It wasn’t so much that they had combined their magic.  Given the threat they faced, all that had happened, and not knowing where or if help was coming; he couldn’t fault them for that.  But the fact that they had tried to hide it…

“No,” Yami agreed.  “But this one insisted on separating--”

“Who insisted?”  Nozel challenged.

“You knew I was telling the truth when I said I could sense Teris’ mana and track her down; yet you claimed I couldn’t and wanted to go your own way.  The wrong way.”

Nozel turned in his seat to face the Black Bull.  “How do you know what I thought or didn’t.  The same way you claimed to know where Teris was?”

“Who found her,” Yami taunted.  “And no it wasn’t your mana.  It was your Ki.”

“Now you’re just making up words.”  Nozel accused.

“Either way,” Teris said to the Knights Commander, “how were we suppose to know how close the Silver Eagles may have been.  All we knew at the time was that we faced a threat that could very well kill us if we didn’t do something drastic.  And given our injuries and depleted mana that something had to be done sooner rather than later if we hoped to survive.”

“So you combined your magic,” Greywright stated.

“Yes,” Teris sighed.  “Given the situation, we felt it was the only way. We used the utmost caution that we possibly could given the circumstance.”

She went ahead and told the skimming details knowing the Commander would ask, hoping to avoid having to explain the near kiss.  She knew she had pushed the truth when she had said they had used the utmost caution, if anything Yami had been almost flippant; but she didn’t want to see either of them in any more trouble.

“We quickly went over what we would do.  It was agreed that I would be the one to disentangle as soon as a reaction began.  I did.  We, the structure, and everyone surrounding it survived.”  Teris swallowed the ‘the end’ that had wanted to follow her words and waited.

“Why did you lie,” Greywright inquired.

“We didn’t lie.  We omitted,” Teris said.  “And why do you think? After every training session with you, you make it adamantly clear that we should not to combine our magic.  We were afraid.”

“I wasn’t afraid.”  Yami said, receiving a scalding look from Teris for his comment.

“Especially after the trouble we saw our superiors in and your temper.”  Teris went on.  “Can you really blame us for our fear now or wanting to survive then?”

“If Julius had reasoned his own disobedience half as well as you just did, he may not have found himself in the trouble he’s currently in.”  Greywright said, appraising her.

“Thank you.”  Teris said, questioningly.

Greywright hardened.  “It wasn’t a complement.”  He looked over the three Junior Magic Knights.   “Alright.  The three of you, out.  Same orders given to the others stand for you as well.”

Teris looked up at the Knights Commander.  “That’s all?”

“What?” Greywright asked.  “Is there something more you left out that you want to confess?  Want me to yell at you for combining your magic and then omitting it from both your reports?”

“No. But--”

“You made a good argument.  Though don’t you dare think it’ll work again,” he warned her.  “It was enough to satisfy me that you and Yami didn’t maliciously disobey orders, unlike some others.” Greywright shot a glare at Julius, Jax, and Bronn.  “You,” he pointed at Nozel, “on the other hand could have been more forthcoming.  I have no doubt you knew what they had done as soon as you saw the scene in that chamber, yet you did all you could to try and cover for them.”

For her, Nozel thought silently, correcting the Commander.

“There’s no excuse for that,” Greywright told.  “If I have to question you like that again just to pull the truth out of you, you’ll be discharged from the Magic Knights on the spot.  Understand.”

Nozel raised his chin glaring at his Commander.  “Yes, sir,” he clipped.

“But--” Teris tried again.

“But you thought you’d stay longer?  Get some answers?  Or hear something you could piece together on your own.”  Greywright said for her.  “I have no doubt you two hypothesize on your own.”  He said, waving at her and Yami.  “You’re lucky Sir Jorah hasn’t pulled you two apart and moved one of you to a different squad.”

Nozel’s reaction was quite different from Yami and Teris’.

“Not gonna happen,” Yami rumbled.

“No. It won’t.”  Greywright said, looking down at him out of the corner of his eye.  “Be grateful for that.  And get out.”

Yami put his hands on his knees lifting his shoulders.  Exhaling heavily he pushed himself to his feet staring at the Magic Knights Commander.

Greywright noted that even this young the boy had an imposing presence. Something that would only grow as his body and magic grew with age and experience.  He smirked at Yami in mild amusement, wondering if the kid was actually trying to intimidate him.  Not even on your best day when you’re fully grown, Greywright thought.  I know your weakness and, given my position, she would be all to easy to use against you.

Thanks for reading.  Hope you enjoyed it.  Comments and questions are very much appreciated.

[chrysalispen]

kissing prompt: ‘a kiss meant to seduce’

not answering these in any particular order but tbh i’m trying to get these nero/WoL wips out the door so have another prompt response. more or less a lead-in to this fic i wrote which i don’t hate quite enough to take down.

not explicit, but probably a T/M rating on AO3 for mention of dirty talk etc.

=============================================================

All told, no one had seemed to be in an agreeable mood on the way down to the Find from the Crystal Tower courtyard, or after they'd arrived. Cid's expression had been positively thunderous, blue eyes dark with his agitation, and the overall feeling from the other Ironworks engineers on site ran the gamut between confusion and suspicious resignation.

Well. Almost no one. Their sudden interloper seemed quite cheerful about the entire circumstance, as though all of this were going exactly the way he had wanted and they were all just cogs in some machine he'd set in motion.

That idea was absurd, of course; Nero tol Scaeva couldn't have had much more of an inkling of what was behind those doors than anyone else here, surely. But the calm, self-assured way he moved told her he did know something, and more to the point, that he had some plan in mind for it once they’d bypassed all the security for him.

That alone was more than enough to make her wary.

She glanced from side to side, looking for Cid, but he appeared to have quit the Find in a fit of pique (not that she particularly blamed him). The other engineers were just as busy, and G'raha was animatedly chattering to Unei and Doga who were both attempting to answer his flood of questions as best as they could manage.

Everyone seemed to have quite forgotten her presence now that her ability to brute-force the doors to the Labyrinth open was no longer necessary. She wished she could feel even slightly surprised, but that was what she was here for, she supposed. The muscle, the good luck charm.

With a sigh, Aurelia approached Rammbroes' study pavilion and lifted the tent flaps, letting herself inside. If the scholar or one of his fellows -- or better yet, Cid -- was there, she could talk with them, feel out if there was anything that they ought to be concerned about before venturing into the tower should Nero's timely appearance be subterfuge for something sinister...? But the tent was---

---the tent was not empty, as it had appeared from the outside. A familiar figure turned towards the sound of her entrance, a leather-bound book clasped in one hand.

She immediately reached for her weapon, snapping, "What are you--"

Nero tol Scaeva lifted his hands in a conciliatory gesture.

"Before you cut me down in cold blood, the journal is mine own. I was attempting to compare my notes with that of your associates here."

Aurelia's eyes narrowed but the tribunus only stared back, a look that was both coaxing and challenging at the same time, as if waiting to see what she would do. Finally she relented, tucking her staff back over her shoulder. While it was obvious he'd come in here by himself to rummage through papers, it seemed that he hadn't been here much longer than she had. So it wasn't as though he had had sufficient opportunity to do anything.

Nothing she could prove at the moment, anyroad.

"And the tomestones? I can't imagine you'd want to leave those behind without having a look for yourself."

"They're welcome to them," Nero said with a dismissive shrug.

She blinked. “That was... not the answer I expected.”

"Personal experience from the Ultima Project. The majority of those tomestones will be naught more than particularly expensive paperweights; what useful data exists on them has quite likely been eroded due to time and exposure. As counterintuitive as it may seem, their decision to keep written documentation of the dig may be the wiser course of action."  His pale blue eyes had not tracked away from her face the entire time he had spoken. The gaze he’d leveled upon her was sharp, scrutinizing, intense, and this time she didn't have the benefit of his magitek armor to hide that interest from her sight.

Not that he was bothering to hide it in any way. What game was he playing...?

She broke eye contact, feeling ill at ease as she glanced at the entrance to Rammbroes' tent. She'd backed up against a nearby worktable; heavy and sturdy, it sat just below her waist, at hip height. Perfectly appropriate for a roegadyn sitting down to pen missives or peruse dusty old texts or review Allagan tomestones.

Nero was smiling but he still hadn't said anything, and that made her uncomfortable enough to finally break the silence between them with a defensive "What?"

"Any particular reason you happen to be blushing?"

"Wh- I'm not blushing."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

The right corner of his lips tugged slightly upwards, just enough to reveal a flash of canine. She chewed on her lower lip, grasping at the table for a sense of purchase and trying not to think about things she... really should not be thinking about. Really shouldn't. Like how in the seven hells a man was born with a mouth like that. It was- it was unfair.

His answering chuckle made her realize, much to her chagrin, that she had spoken aloud.

He braced his hands against the table's surface and leaned his weight back against it, slotting himself in the open space at her side. Unconsciously, Aurelia shifted herself to put a few ilms of space between them, trying not to think about the difference in height that was somehow far more noticeable now. Nero tol Scaeva was damnably tall; she was average height for a Garlean woman and still barely came up to his shoulders when they stood side by side, let alone in a position like this.

"To that end I've a question for you, eikon-slayer,” he continued smoothly, “if you would be so kind as to indulge me."

"About...?"

"I find it passing strange that a woman who can slay gods without blinking should find my presence in any way disconcerting. An artifact of your upbringing, I assume?" He was baiting her, she knew; the tone of his question was decidedly mocking. But that smile-- that had turned into something speculative and dark. Combined with the intensity of his stare, it set alight a strange, pressurized heat in the pit of her stomach. "Does Garlond elicit this reaction?"

"Cid? Hardly." Aurelia wrenched her gaze away from the movements of his lips to stare over his shoulder at the tent opening. Scholars and Ironworks engineers were passing to and fro just outside; she could see the shadows they cast upon the tarpaulin. "Cid also doesn't stand two ilms away from my face and stare me right in the eyes like he's about to devour me, so take that as you will, I suppose."

" 'Devour' you? What an interesting turn of phrase. Although I must admit you make a salient point. I cannot imagine that you are embarrassed by the slightest of his attentions as you are mine."

Was... was he trying to do what she suspected he was doing? The idea seemed laughable on its face -- Eorzea had no shortage of beautiful women, so who on earth would find her appealing? -- but the problem she currently faced was that it was actually working, damn him. It didn’t help that it had been... she couldn't remember how long since anyone had taken any sort of prurient interest in her, now that she thought about it.

Assuming of course that she wasn't just overthinking this and he wasn't putting her wind up for fun. Either way, she had to put an end to this now before it escalated any further.

"Unfortunately for you, I am not interested.” Calm, collected, and to the point. Yes, she thought; very well done.

She'd hoped that her bluntness would deter him, but that smile only widened, the maw of a hunting predator about to strike.

"Something tells me you are perhaps not being forthright with me." His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth. "Shame on you, hero."

"I mean it. I am not interested," she repeated, this time with more resolve. "After what you did in the Prae-"

"Ah, you're concerned that I might turn on you all like a rabid dog, as it were. Worry for Garlond? Thinking I might sabotage his precious Ironworks or somesuch?"

"Not---no, none of those things, not as such, but to say I trust you would be a stretch. Not a word in all these weeks and suddenly you turn up, unannounced, as thought naught had transpired?"

"Your concern is unwarranted. Merely do I find myself with a plethora of free time in the wake of my sudden discharge from military service.”

“You-,” she began, but he was not finished.

“Lest you labor beneath the assumption that I intend you any sort of bodily harm, for a long while before we were... shall we say ‘formally introduced’, I had this recurring dream about you, me, and an interrogation chair-" At the wide flare of her eyes, he paused, only to grin at her: "...Now that, eikon-slayer, is a very interested look."

She tried to scoff at him, but it came out as a short, sharp, nervous bark.

"What look? I didn't give you any look."

"You most certainly did."

"You're reading intent where none exists-"

"Am I? Couple that with the fact you're mortified by the slightest hint of insinuation on my part and it's quite telling."

"Scaeva, I was in the legions myself once. Do you seriously think I'd not been exposed to the odd bit of barracks chatter?" She scowled at him. "I'm a chirurgeon by trade. I think I know enough of the human condition not to be easily embarrassed by such things."

There it was--the look she'd seen him pass Cid every time he was wont to needle the man in the space of a single conversation, coupled with the upwards arch of one eyebrow. She’d not realized how aggravating it was to be on the receiving end of that look until this moment, now that she was the subject of Nero's condescension. 

"I'd wager that what you believe passes for 'barracks chatter' is overwhelmingly tame. You've not heard the half of it, I assure you. Even the worst among the rank and file will behave themselves around a skirt, especially if the lady in question is a pureblood."

"Perhaps if the lady had seen no military service. I imagine there is precious little they could say that would shock me."

He pushed himself upright and turned to face her, bracing his hands on either side and giving her precious little in the way of an escape route. 

“I am very willing to test your hypothesis."

"I'm sure you are.” She kept her voice steady with some considerable effort. His mouth now lingered but a bare hairsbreadth apart from her own, and trying not to think about that fact was only causing her to hyperfocus on it.

"No time like the present,” he said, “and I am a man of science. Call it professional curiosity, if you like. May I?"

He'd called her bluff, and after her own assertion she felt she had little choice but to accept the consequences. At last Aurelia nodded, stiffly, trying to ignore the faintly triumphant curl to his answering smile.

His hand cupped her jaw, warm and callused fingertips trailing the shell of her ear, palm just barely cradling the soft skin over her throat. If he wished he could close his grip and tighten it, squeeze until she had no air to breathe- but the Echo would have warned her of any killing intent. Although it gave her no indication of any danger from him, it took a conscious effort not to bolt under his arm and flee the tent. Tension thrummed through her frame like a live wire.

Nero leaned inward until they were cheek to cheek. Her breath hitched for the briefest of moments when she felt the light scrape of stubble and caught his scent: some kind of aftershave perhaps, a bit stringent but not unpleasant, and the heat in her belly clenched tight. Lips lingered at her ear and she could feel the tribunus' warm breath fanning very lightly across her skin.

Then he began to speak.

Sotto voce, in their native Garlean tongue. A soft, soporific rumble, breath just slightly uneven- and not the mildly suggestive banter or off-color jokes she’d expected but a soldier's words of coupling, rough and lascivious and filthy.

All of it aimed at her. 

Her grip on the table tightened as she willed herself to remain still through the impulse to slap him or shove him away in shocked mortification, as he well knew a proper young lady of gentle birth would have been expected to do. He knew, too; could sense her dismay, how much it cost her just to maintain some semblance of composure, and he wasn't fooled by it.

He was laughing at her, the bastard: she could hear the soft, breathy chuckles woven through his unending stream of vulgarities. Her face felt as though he had set it afire and she knew she was probably bright red right down to the roots of her hair---and then she felt the press of his mouth, a light kiss along the juncture of her jaw just beneath the earlobe.

A hot shudder of anticipation warped its way down her spine.

"So the eikon-slayer is undone by a bit of bawdy talk after all." He had not moved his lips away from her skin before speaking. She could feel the heat of his breath against her, warm and velvet and damp and gods, he was practically purring in her ear- "It would appear your theory has been disproven, hero."

She found herself unable to respond, mouth feeling suddenly very dry, swallowing with some effort. The clicking sound her throat made in her ears as she did was so, so loud.

And before she had quite managed to gather her wits again, Nero tol Scaeva straightened his posture and backed away from her position against the table with a mocking bow before tucking the journal in his coat pocket and strolling towards the tent flap. Turning his back on her, quite deliberately, and making his exit.

As though the entire exchange had never occurred.

She let out the exhalation she hadn't realized she was holding, sagging back against the sturdy oak surface of Rammbroes’ makeshift writing desk and attempting to ease her breathing into something resembling an even pace. He'd left her rattled and flustered and... burning. There was a deep, aching knot of tension that had formed in the base of her belly, one that would not fade quickly.

And she suspected that like as not, he’d only done it to prove a point, namely that his wits were malms beyond hers and her victory in the Praetorium had been but a simple fluke, a stroke of blind luck.

Small wonder Cid's hackles had been raised by his mere presence. Hells take him, the man was utterly insufferable.

After some time had passed (and the heat in her cheeks had faded), she slipped out of Rammbroes' "study" and saddled her chocobo. She had to talk to Cid about this, she decided, regardless of how sour his mood might be. Someone was going to have to keep an eye on Nero once they set foot in the tower, and given everyone else’s relative importance in the grand scheme of things, it might as well be her; she could endure his baiting so long as she made sure they had an understanding.

Aurelia didn’t see any sign of him on her way out of the camp. Doubtlessly he’d gone in search of someone or something else to act as his temporary source of entertainment until the expedition into the Tower was underway, she thought. She could not well decide if she was disappointed or relieved. 

But if he planned to behave this way the entire time, it was going to be a very, very long expedition indeed.

[faroreswinds]

So I am still working on Chapter 1 on my AU fic. Since I have no intention of publishing it, I figured I could at least share some of the parts that I finished/very close to finishing. Idk, I did work on it and felt like maybe one or two people will get a kick out of it.

I rarely share my work, but I'm working on my anxiety and my poor self image, and figured I should be brave and just do it. No matter how scary it is.

Anyways, this is Part 1 of Chapter 1 (split up into smaller parts because I can). Probably won't go beyond chapter 1; I dont think my nerves can take it.

The news of the coronation of the new Almyran King came exactly one day before the letter announcing his intention to travel to the Empire of Adrestia to discuss the future of their alliance. 

Dimitri had been at his desk, overseeing his paperwork, when a servant came and informed him that his wife required his presence post haste.

"Pardon? Edelgard is asking for me?" asked the prince in surprise, his quill still against pale parchment. He glanced towards the small window to confirm the time of day. Not even noon yet. If she is requesting for him so early in the morning, it must be important. 

"Very well. Please let her know I am on my way." After the servant bowed and left, Dimitri sighed quietly as he set his quill aside. "Dedue, would you mind-"

"I will clean up, do not worry yourself, Your Highness," finished a large man that stood close beside Dimitri. He bent over and began to collect the papers delicately from Dimitri’s desk as a small, appreciative smile tugged at the prince’s lips. He thanked his vassal, before he left his chambers to find Edelgard.

The imperial palace was huge and ancient, built upon stones laid nearly 1000 years ago and still ever expanding. Even the most experienced maids often took a wrong turn, but after nine years of living here the prince knew his way through the labyrinth of corridors and impressive hallways fairly well. He was sure there were still secrets laying hidden within the stoney walls- rooms that have been forgotten by all except the mice and spiders- but today he was going towards the gardens and knew exactly the route he needed to take. 

The gardens of the imperial palace were no less complex then the stoney mazes, but no doubt more vibrant and welcoming. Morning glories glistened with dew as they bloomed in the rising sun. Wisteria blew gently in the breeze with their purple hue along the pathways of arbors. Fields of lilies and tulips and lilacs made blankets of color along the ground. Weeping willows offered shade and secluded places to picnic, when there was time. 

All carefully cultivated for the pleasure of the royalty of the Empire. 

Deep within this eden, Edelgard sat at a small white table, underneath her favorite gazebo among the bushes of roses. A display of desserts was spread out before her as she sipped her tea, all the very finest sweets that Enbarr had to offer and made perfectly to her tastes. When she spotted Dimitri approaching, she paused briefly to nod in his direction. 

"Dimitri. I see the servant was able to find you," she said without much surprise in her voice. At this time of day, Dimitri would only have been working. She motioned towards an accompanying chair across from her, which the servants had already prepared a setting for him. They stood to the side now, heads bowed low in respect, while the prince obliged and joined his wife for a morning snack. 

As he took the seat, Edelgard continued, "I hate to tear you away from your work, but something rather important has come up."

“I do not mind,” replied the prince, quite honestly. Paperwork exhausted him after so long- having only one working eye made it more difficult to focus for extended periods of time. Such a rare morning break was a treat, no matter the circumstances. “But I must admit, it was surprising to be summoned.” He glanced around the garden. “Hubert is not with you today?” It was unusual to not see Edelgard’s vassal looming behind her in the shadows, with his piercing yellow gaze and his sharp features. Like a snake, always watching but not always seen. 

"Hubert has other important work right now.” Edelgard set her cup down upon its saucer with a clink, her expression serious. “We received news today that King Khalid of Almyra is coming to Enbarr in just a few weeks."

Dimitri, who had been reaching for his teacup, started at the news and nearly knocked over the porcelain. He adjusted accordingly, catching the cup before the tea split over the table, but he was still openly bewildered.  

“W-what? Cla- I mean, King Khalid is coming here?” 

The princess nodded. She leaned forward and rested her chin upon the back of her hand. “Judging by your reaction, I feel that I was right to include you on this monumental opportunity.” 

“Opportunity?” Dimitri echoed back in confusion. 

"Relations with Almyra have been… delicate, for decades. But now they are reaching out to us. This is a chance for us to form a stronger alliance with them than my father forged with them after the war." She moved closer, expectation in her eyes. "Which is why I want you involved with the summit. You lived there for some time when you were younger. You have a better grasp of their culture than any of the nobles here in the palace. Not to mention, I heard you and King Khalid had been close during your time there."

There was a brief moment of hesitation. “That… is true,” Dimitri admitted. He felt strange. He folded his hands into his lap, his thumbs rubbing against each other as he looked away. He had not thought about that time for a while, at least not until yesterday when news of the Almyran prince’s coronation reached the Adrestian capital. That time, in the desert sands of Almyra… He felt his ears turn slightly pink. “But that was years ago. I am sure that King Khalid has changed. Our childhood friendship may not be what it is now. He may not even remember much of me.” 

“Regardless, you already have a connection with him,” Edelgard insisted. 

“But I was only there for a short time,” protested the prince. 

“And that is more time than anyone else here,” argued his wife in return. “This is important, Dimitri. Almyra has never willingly reached out to Fódlan before, and our current treaty with them is unstable. Father had drawn it up only to prevent them from invading after he won the war, but how long will that last? This is an opportunity to ensure that we can forge a strong alliance and improve relations with our neighbors at last. And who better than someone who was once friends with the new king himself?”

Dimitri could not help but silently agree with her reasoning, but he still felt nervous. His thumbs rubbed harder. “So soon after his coronation… The prince I remember was always pushing the boundaries but to invite himself to the imperial palace immediately after becoming king... “ 

“I found that odd as well. Do you have any idea as to why he would make such a bold decision?”

He shook his head. “Khalid had been curious about Fódlan, that much I remember. But he had always been… unpredictable. I cannot say I ever truly knew his mind.” 

“I see.” Edelgard withdrew and returned to sipping her tea. “Well, Hubert does not think this is an invasion- Khalid openly announced plans and even included the number of his arrival party. I’m still cautious, of course. However… I cannot let this chance go to waste.” 

This chance, huh? Dimitri finally found it in himself to take his first sip of tea since he sat down. But he almost could not focus on the warmth of the drink or the subtle texture of stray tea leaves, not with this news swirling in his head. He thought back to his old friend, back to the heat of the sun and the smell of spice in the air. To the call of the wyverns and the wild dancing, and to those piercing, green eyes of the mischievous prince and his bright, disarming smile. 

Khalid… 

He glanced up anxiously at his wife. “But what about His Majesty? Is he not to spearhead this summit with King Khalid?” 

“I’ve already talked to Father.” Of course she had- she was always one step ahead. “As long as King Khalid is willing, I will be taking charge of the negotiations. Father may still be Emperor, but it will not be long before I am coronated. Which is all the more reason to include you. As the future prince consort, you will be a valuable asset to the strength of this alliance.” 

Dimitri drew in a deep breath. The very nature of his position has basically secured his inevitable reunion with Khalid, hasn’t it? Not that it sounded like a terrible fate, of course. He had grown close to Khalid years ago, but what if… what if they were too different now? It has been nearly a decade, and people change. What sort of man has Khalid become over the years? Was it possible to rekindle such a friendship? There are times to let things stay in the past, to not let the flow of time ruin what had once been so beloved. It would not be Dimitri’s first experience losing a friend due to time. 

And yet, Dimitri felt a spark of excitement. To see Khalid after all these years again… that sounded wonderful as well, even if Dimitri felt nervous at the thought. 

What would Khalid think of Dimitri now? 

His heart skipped a beat at the thought.

“... Very well,” he gave in, “I will do what I can to help.” 

Edelgard smiled, pleased. She beckoned to a peach sorbet. "Since I have you here, we might as well enjoy the morning. It had been a while since we had time to spend together."

Magic had been used to keep the sorbet icy cold, and it had been scooped into a perfect dome with a mint leaf placed delicately on top. After a length of time, Dimitri slid the tall glass closer to him, and took a bite of the light pink dessert. 

He tasted nothing.

[theshatteredrose]

Long Awaited Reunion - Etrian Odyssey 2 Fanfiction

Summary: Shiki was back! He was alive. But…how would Simmons react to seeing his dad? Would he even remember him?

AN: Again, I think it’s best if I let the fic speak for itself. Read and let me know what you think~

~*~*~*~*~*~

The rain had let up but the thunder continued to roar in the distance. But Gerald paid it no mind. He was too busy looking at the back of the head of the man that had his wrist held securely in his hand as he pulled him through the silent, near empty streets of Lagaard. He couldn’t bring himself to look at anything else, not even down at the wolf with bluish-silver fur. Only the man in front of him.

Shiki.

The hand who had a hold of his wrist belonged to Shiki.

He was alive. God for ten years, ten whole, pain filled years he was missing from his life. He didn’t want to accept that he was dead, but a part of him had. A small part had given up hope of ever seeing his beloved friend ever again.

But…he was alive. He was alive…

There was…there was something he had to know.

“Shiki, Sandra-”

Without a single pause in his steps, Shiki was heard uttering a low, miserable sigh. One of pain and yet acceptance as well. “I know, Gerald,” he said softly. “She's gone.”

Gerald clenched his jaw tightly as his heart dropped into his stomach. “How?” he managed to utter.

Shiki stopped walking and pulled Gerald to a stop next to him, though he kept his back to him, he made absolutely no attempt to remove his strong grip around his wrist. In fact his hand tightened ever so slightly, though subtly trembling. “...Her right hand,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, even in the too quiet streets at night.

He then slowly turned to face Gerald and he could see that the pain of what he had learnt of happened to his wife was still fresh in his eyes, in his memory.

Her hand…the one that was missing. Had he seen it? Was it shown to him?

He would have reacted violently, Gerald was sure of that.

“What the hell happened to you?” he found himself asking instead.

Unexpectedly, Shiki lifted his other hand and gently cupped the side of Gerald’s face, his eyes filling with pain once more. But it appeared to be a different kind of pain. “...I thought everyone was dead,” he said softly as he thumb brushed over his cheekbone. “Including you.”

Gerald furrowed his brow in confusion and concern. Why? Who told him something like that? Where did he go? Why did he leave? Damn it, there were so many questions he didn’t know where to start!

But they…had to wait for the moment, for a moment. There was something else he needed to tell Shiki.

“Simmons was attacked, too,” Gerald said in a pained and regretful tone. “He received a head injury. He...doesn't remember much. He might not...remember you.”

Again, another flicker of pain appeared in Shiki’s red eyes, yet not as profound as before. “That's ok,” he said as he kept his hand on Gerald’s cheek and smiled crookedly at him. “As long as he is alive.”

“Shiki-”

Gerald was interrupted when Shiki abruptly pulled him into a near bone crushing hug, his face buried in the crook of his neck. Startled, Gerald fell still, his chin on Shiki’s shoulder and head tilted back ever so slightly to allow him to stare bewildered up at the dark night sky.

“The last few years haven't been kind to me, either,” Shiki murmured against the side of Gerald’s neck and his arms tightened a fraction further, not enough to hurt Gerald in anyway, but certainly prevent him from removing himself from the embrace. “But they're over now. I'm back. And I'm staying, I promise.”

Gerald closed his eyes as he thought about the deep scars he had seen on Shiki’s arms and chest. Clearly, the man had gone through physical hell. But it was also clear, distressingly so, that he had gone through mental and emotional hell as well.

“Just tell me what happened,” Gerald requested as he snaked his arms around to rest his hands on Shiki’s back, swallowing thickly when his fingertips brushed over yet more scaring.

Shiki was silent for the longest moment as he continued to hold him, his face still buried into the curve of Gerald’s neck. “…You know of a man called Taksony?” he unexpectedly asked.

Gerald opened his eyes, though his brow furrowed as he turned his head as far as he could to try to look at Shiki. “Yeah, I've heard of the bastard. Why? What does he have to do with anything?”

Once more, Shiki fell silent before he emitted a low chuckle that was honestly unexpected and startling. “...Apparently the bastard needed a dark hunter to train one of his soon to be soldiers.”   Gerald drew in a sharp intake of air, his eyes widening. What? No, that couldn’t…Did…was he saying that someone from Etria had ventured all the way to Lagaard to kidnap him? Was his reputation of being a highly skilled dark hunter that notorious?

“Yeah,” Shiki murmured, almost as if responding to Gerald’s jumbled thoughts. “You can imagine how well that worked, right? Apparently my rebellious nature is contagious.”

Though there was a slight smirk on Shiki’s lips as he pulled away from him, Gerald could only look at him in disbelief and bewilderment. He believed him, of course he did. Shiki had never lied to him and despite their ten years of separation, he refused to believe that Shiki would ever lie to him, to his face.

But for Shiki to have been kidnapped…it was too surreal. He was a highly skilled dark hunter, explorer. Gerald had heard stories and gossip of that bastard Taksony, about how power hungry he was and how he had enough money to make people bend to his every whim, but why would he go after a notorious flighty dark hunter like Shiki? It didn’t make any sense!

…Maybe it did, but Gerald refused or simply couldn’t consider it?

“Did…you escape?” Gerald found himself asking as he stared wide-eyed at the man in front of him.

A wry half grin slipped across Shiki’s lips and he shook his head slowly as he took a step back, letting his arms fall away from Gerald to rest idly by his sides. “No,” he admitted as faraway look appeared in his eyes. “I was no longer of any use. They threw me into the Etrian Labyrinth.”

Shiki suddenly smirked as he revealed his left arm, the one that was covered in thick bandages. He looked at it as he flexed his arm a few times. “Hah, dumbasses thought they could get rid of me so easily, though not unscathed. But I have to admit that I had a little bit of help.”

Help? It wouldn’t have been that ‘obnoxious blue-haired dark hunter’ he mumbled about earlier?

Again Shiki fell silent as he dropped his arm to his side again and he tilted his head back to look up at the sky as his eyes fell half-lidded, recalling his painful memories. “Hah, not that I was overly grateful at the time. I thought…everyone was dead, so why should I still be alive?”

Gerald felt a lump of pure heartbreaking emotion lodge in his throat and he tried desperately to push it back. “If Simmons hadn’t survived,” he found himself muttering. “I wouldn’t be here either.”

Shiki quickly turned his attention and gaze back to Gerald, and though he offered him a small understanding smile, his eyes still looked haunted. “…Thank you for raising my boy,” he said before his smile turned slightly mischievous, the type of smile Gerald was more accustomed to. “Ah, should that be our boy now?”

Gerald felt a sudden flush to his cheeks, but he chalked it up to the alcohol still affecting him and the coolness of the night. “Don’t joke like that.”

Shiki’s grin took on more of a mischievous glint. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, not at all apologetic, before his smile faded and he turned his gaze to his surroundings, looking at the buildings and streets with that painful, faraway look in his eyes once more. “I’m just…relieved to be home. I’ve missed a lot, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, a lot has happened,” Gerald said, though in no mood to discuss it all there in the street, not after what he had just learnt. Shiki would be dismayed to learn what happened to Guild Reckless. He didn’t need to have more tragedy forced upon him. Not right at this very second. It may be better if Hamza was the one to tell him, although it would hurt the war magus as well.

“There’s plenty of time to learn, though,” Gerald said instead.

“I need to see my boy,” Shiki said simply as he turned his gaze, those red eyes that had haunted Gerald’s dreams for eyes, back toward him once more.

“Yeah,” Gerald said simply as he began to walk forward. “He’s been waiting for you.”

“Yeah,” Shiki murmured before he made a soft clicking noise with his tongue. “Come, Farley, not much further now.”

Having forgotten about their canine companion, Gerald turned his gaze toward the wolf to find that he had immediately placed himself by Shiki’s side. And when he turned his gaze back to Shiki, the man was motioning for him to stand by his other side.

To which he promptly did. Side by side, they silently walked together, taking the same path they had done many times ten years before, to the place they had laughed and made so many memories together.

As they walked up the stone stoop and through the front door to finally reach the security of being inside, Farley quietly following without prompting, Gerald felt a mild spike of fear appear in his chest.

He honestly didn’t know how Simmons was going to react. It had been ten years and he had received a terrible head injury nine years ago. And Shiki had changed a bit, not only in appearance, but in personality. Completely understandable, of course, but would Simmons immediately recognise him? Or would he need prompting? Time to adjust to the thought that the new man in his life was actually his father?

There wasn’t really anything they could do to prepare, was there?

As Gerald mulled over whether or not to be the one to enter Simmons room and bring him out into the living room, or have the reunion in the privacy of his room, the door to Simmons’ bedroom opened and out stepped the object of his thoughts. With messy hair and bleary eyes, Simmons staggered out of his room, as if looking for something to drink when he stopped to look at him.

“You were out longer than usual, Gerald,” Simmons said instead, surprising the older gunner.

…Had he been waiting up for him? Hah, of course he was.

Before Gerald had the chance to respond, Simmons’ gaze abruptly turned to Shiki and he heard the former dark hunter draw in a sharp intake of air. Shiki immediately recognised Simmons, he looked so much like his mother after all, but Simmons…

Simmons shakily took a step forward, his mouth dropping open before he uttered, “...Dad?”

Gerald wisely took a step back when he heard Shiki give a half chuckle, one that was filled with relief and undeniable happiness.

“Y-yeah,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he took a step forward, his arms lifting from his sides in preparation to embrace his son after so long. “It’s me, I-”

Whatever Shiki was about to say was abruptly forgotten when Simmons suddenly lunged forward to stand right in front of him. He then flung his arms around Shiki’s neck, his face pressed against his shoulder, and as his weight collided against Shiki’s, they both fell to the floor with a loud crash. Shiki automatically made a sound, as if the air suddenly rushed from his lungs and Gerald felt a sense of concern by how hard the two of them fell.

But he became still when another noise echoed throughout the room. The sound of a soft sob.

“I knew you would come back.”

Breathing in shakily, Shiki wrapped one arm tightly around Simmons’ waist as the other slid up to entangle his fingers through his hair. “...Yeah, I'm back. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.”

With his face still pressed against the curve of Shiki’s shoulder and his arms still around his neck, Simmons nodded as he continued to cry softly.

Gerald should probably leave them alone; they were father and son, after all. They needed their time alone, to sob and wail about how much they missed each other. They deserved it. But…Gerald honestly didn’t want to let Shiki out of his sight. Not even for a second. Not again. He didn’t want this to be a dream.

It couldn’t be a dream, could it? If so…then never let him wake up.

“Gods,” Shiki muttered as he raked his fingers through Simmons’ hair. “You’re so much like your mother.”

Gerald half expected Simmons to pull away and ask where Sandra was if she wasn’t with him, but instead Simmons simply nodded his head and continued to hug Shiki tightly.

…That boy knew more than he let on, didn’t he?

A few minutes past silently as the two family members continued to simply hold each other. Slowly and reluctantly, Simmons finally began to detach himself from his father, pushing back to rest on his heels of his feet to kneel on the floor in front of Shiki. And Shiki sat up, obvious tear stains on his cheeks as he reached out to ruffle Simmons hair, the blue haired landsknecht wiping his also tear laden cheeks with the back of his hand.

Honestly, Gerald was fairly certain he was crying now as well. Yeah, he was. There was no point in denying it. He was…so relieved. God, so relieved.

“I’ve missed you, my boy,” Shiki said as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Simmons.

Simmons nodded his head as he continued to wipe messily at his cheeks. He then drew in a deep breath as he dropped his hand from his face. He lifted his chin and gave Shiki the biggest, brightest smile Gerald had honestly ever seen.

“Dad!” Simmons said as he placed his hands on Shiki’s shoulders. “I’ve got so much to tell you!”

Shiki was startled, but only for the smallest of seconds before he too smiled broadly and ruffled Simmons’ hair roughly. “I bet you do,” he said. “Then let’s talk. All night if we have to.”

“Yeah!” Simmons said, more energetic than Gerald had seen for a while as he leapt to his feet and impatiently tugged Shiki to his own.

Shiki released a loud and somewhat relieved laugh as he let Simmons pull him up. The moment he was standing tall again he clasped Simmons by the shoulder and made that clicking noise again. As soon as he did, the sound of claws scampering across the floor followed. “Before that, I have someone for you to meet,” Shiki said as the patient wolf stopped at his heel and he motioned for Simmons to regard the canine as well. “This is Farley.”

Simmons’ expression immediately brightened as he crouched down in front of the wolf and held out his hand for the wolf to smell. “Hi Farley,” he greeted, not as loud as he usually did.

The wolf looked at him for a moment, somewhat cautious probably. But his ears weren’t back and the fur on the back of his neck wasn’t raised. He did seem to be twitching slightly, as if holding back.

“Go ahead,” Shiki suddenly said.

And as soon as he did, it was like a switch had been flipped. The wolf abruptly made a sound like an excited ‘yip’ and leaned back onto his back legs so that his front paws flailed out toward Simmons. His placed his hands on Simmons’ shoulders and excitedly began to lick at his face, his tail wagged so hard that his butt was wiggling as well.

The laugh Simmons released as he fell back onto his butt, Farley still covering his face in sloppy kisses was a sound Gerald had never heard before.

“I found him in Etria's labyrinth,” Shiki explained as he placed his hands on his hips, making no attempt to pull the obviously excited wolf pup off of his son. “He was a tiny little thing. Four years old now, but still a great big puppy.”

Simmons looked up at Shiki to smile goofily at him, still playing with Farley, scratching his ears and rubbing his stomach. “Is that where you were all this time? Adventuring?”

Shiki paused for a moment as that haunted look appeared in his eyes once more. But it soon dissipated and he smiled widely. “Yeah, kid. Got a little lost, you know? Deeply lost…”

…If he had thought everyone was dead, then he was very lost indeed.

“Heh, I do that too,” Simmons said as he turned his attention back to Farley and ruffled his fur playfully. “Gerry says I'm like mum.”

Gerry? It had been a while since Simmons had outright called him that.

“Yeah, she had a terrible sense of direction, didn't she?”

“Did you find Farley for me?”

“Absolutely. I thought of you the moment I saw him.”

Simmons laughed goofily at that before an unexpected…mature expression appeared on his face. His eyes fell half-lidded as he smiled softly and leaned forward to rest his forehead against that of Farley’s, the wolf pup settling down immediately as if reacting to him. “…I’m glad dad’s back now. He can make Gerry smile again.”

Simmons had whispered that, but it seemed to echo around the room. Shiki immediately glanced over in Gerald’s direction, but embarrassed Gerald looked away and roughly scratched the back of his neck.

…Damn it, the kid was more observant that Gerald gave him credit for.

“I’ll be sure to try to make everyone smile from now on,” Shiki said, his voice filled with determination before he made a sound of realisation, as if he had just remembered something. “Speaking of which, do you know anyone called Rahas or Lynus?”

“Hm?” Simmons murmured as he tilted his head to the side and Gerald felt his brow furrow again. He remembered Shiki mentioning Rahas and Lynus before. How did he know the two?

“Of course I do,” Simmons replied with that large, goofily happy grin of his. “Rahas is my friend and he trains with me sometimes. And Lynus is really nice; he heals me without giving me those boring lectures.”

Shiki appeared momentarily surprised before relief washed over him and he smiled. “Ah, really now. They are here…”

He sounded so relieved. But why?

“Do you know them, dad?” Simmons was the one to ask.

“Ah, yeah,” Shiki said as he idly trailed the fingers of his right hand over his right arm. “Met them a few years ago. They’re…good kids. I’m glad they’re safe now.”

There was that pained, faraway look again…

Shiki quickly brightened, however, and reached down to pull Simmons to his feet. “Well, I’ll speak with them tomorrow,” he said as he took a hold of Simmons arm with one hand while the other unexpectedly reached out to snare Gerald’s wrist. He then proceeded to pull them both toward the couch in front of an unlit fire place, and with an almighty tug, pulled them both down with him.

Simmons sat on Shiki’s right as Gerald all but fell against his left. Shiki released his hold on their arms to instead slink them around their necks to tug them even closer toward him, holding both Simmons and Gerald in such a way that they had no choice but to rest their heads on his chest.

“Tonight, I want to hear all about your adventures and exploits,” Shiki said as he rested back comfortably into the couch. “Don’t go leaving anything out now.”

Simmons released another genuinely happy laugh and immediately began to launch into telling Shiki about how he started his own guild, and how far they’ve gotten into the labyrinth. All the while Shiki kept his arms around the both of them, occasionally reaching out to ruffle Simmons’ hair while he idly twirled a strand of Gerald’s hair around his finger.

And as Farley unexpected rested his head on Gerald’s lap, prompting the gunner to idly scratch him behind the ear, Gerald felt himself relax, to feel a sense of contentment for the first time in ten years.

Though he did not know where Shiki had been all that time and how much he had gone through, he was sure of one thing; he was glad that Shiki was back. That he was alive. And he knew, beyond doubt, that Shiki wasn’t going to be up and leaving anytime soon.

In one night, his life had changed again. But this time it was for the better. No doubt about that.