#It's utterly horrible AND the worst thing ever that my first thought was weight loss

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

Silly Game Time:

Hmmmmmm I'm suspicious, of course. There is always the possibility that the well will be evil about it and give me a 'careful what you wish for' sort of wish. Which would be sad in my humble opinion.

So like the 'i wish i had a million dollars' sort of wishes I'm deeply suspicious of.

but tbh i'm not sure what to wish for.

[thetimelesscycle]

Tales of Arcadia Wizards Fanfiction: Hope Dies Last - Chapter 7

Douxie ignores the rules of time travel. Archie is in over his head, but that's never stopped him from helping his familiar before, and it's not going to stop him now.

Chapter 7

There and Back Again (Again)

From the moment he had decided that the child offering him breadcrumbs in an alleyway was his, Archibald had known that he would be responsible for the life of his wizard. Douxie had been far too young to fend for himself, already half starved when Archie found him, unaware that the meagre magic he was using to keep himself warm was only further draining his body’s empty reserves. If chance hadn’t led him down that alleyway when it had... If Douxie hadn’t been enamoured enough with his feline form to come out of hiding... If they had missed each other that night... If Fate hadn’t conspired to put them both exactly where they needed to be when they needed to be there, then the bright young boy he had grown so deeply fond of over the years would have died; Alone and forgotten by a world that didn’t deserve him.

He hadn’t been ready for the responsibility. A green familiar and a child sorcerer were a disaster in the making, or so his father had told him. The great ‘Charlemagne the Devourer’ had then proceeded to bury him in a mountain of books ostensibly meant to teach him how to properly mind his wizard, because it was ‘too late to back out now, Archie my boy, you’re stuck with the thing’. Refusing to introduce his familiar to his father after the fact might have been a little petty, but he was a dragon; They were known for that sort of thing.

And he had managed just fine, thank you very much. Admittedly, there had been missteps — neither of them were the most proficient in their respective areas of expertise just yet, and Douxie had the worst timing when it came to magical accidents — but they had learned and grown through every narrowly averted disaster. He could still clearly remember nights spent together around a campfire lit by his dragon’s breath, pouring over the smudged and torn pages of some rescued spellbook or scroll, listening to Douxie uncertainly sound out the words as he patiently corrected his familiar’s pronunciation and filled in what blanks he could with knowledge gleaned from his father’s library.

It hadn’t been much, but they’d made do, and every peril faced had been worth it to see the beaming smile on his boy’s face as the cyan light danced about his fingers in another mastered spell.

And there had been perils. Many of them. His boy was gifted in a world where it was rapidly becoming dangerous to be so, hunted by those who wished to destroy his kind as well as those who wished to use them. Even the few other casters they met always seemed just a little too eager when they realised what the young wizard was capable of, particularly given his age, to the point where Archie had started steering them away from such individuals. There was conflict brewing between the mortal and the magical realms; He wasn’t going to let his familiar get mixed up in it if he could help it. Douxie would not be either side’s weapon, not so long as Archie had a say, and shadows take anyone who thought differently.

He hadn’t counted on Camelot, or Merlin, or on Douxie becoming the Master Wizard’s apprentice. It had been hard to decide whether they were safer here or out there, and he’d known it would be more difficult to leave the longer they stayed. Not because of Merlin’s instruction — whilst it was valuable, Douxie had learned just as many spells with Archie’s help as he had the Master Wizard’s, if a lot less smoothly — but because the young wizard had found something here that he was desperate to hold onto, heedless of the fact his proximity to Merlin placed him right in the very middle of the burgeoning war.

Archie, on the other hand, had been all too aware of the brand new dangers they were courting in the place of the old. There wasn’t anything Merlin could offer them that would convince him to stay if it came to a choice between the Master Wizard’s patronage and Douxie’s well-being; The problem lay in the fact he was no longer sure Douxie would leave with him if he asked. He’d told himself he could find a way to persuade his familiar if he had to. He’d convinced himself that they could still vanish if the need arose. It was only now that he realised how naïve that had been.

Listening to Douxie speak — soft and cracked and so very tired — he understood there had never been a choice. A destiny like Douxie’s would follow him wherever he went, and Archie was left feeling rather small and inadequate in its shadow.

How was he supposed to protect his familiar from this?

Nine centuries. Nine centuries he had not yet lived and already their weight pressed upon his feline shoulders. He sat utterly still and listened as Douxie abbreviated a life lived throughout the ages into a paltry few paragraphs, trying to offer comfort for tragedies he had not yet seen. He was sure there was a lot Hisirdoux was leaving out — how could there not be? — and the worst came at the very end.

Eyes fixed on a distant point well beyond any part of Merlin’s rooms, Douxie stumbled his way through a strange tale of twisted time and the swift collapse of all that they now called home. He didn’t take the time to sugarcoat things, and Archie watched Morgana’s knuckles turn white and Merlin’s brow dip deep in consternation as both Master Wizards heard the tale of Camelot’s decline, Morgana’s betrayal, and the pitched battle for Killahead Bridge.

If only it had ended there.

There was a tremor in the hand resting against his back as Douxie pressed on, and Archie braced himself for darker things to come. The loss of another friend, corrupted by foul magic. A desperate, mad, Douxie plan that had come so close to working, if only his own shapeshifting had held for a few minutes longer. A fight that could never be fair, and a loss his familiar struggled to put into words even now. 

It was Morgana who reached out when Douxie trailed off into silence. Merlin was sitting, rigid and unseeing, whilst his former student took the hand not currently resting on Archie’s back and gave it an encouraging squeeze. She followed it up with a crooked smile when Douxie raised his head, and that seemed to be enough to grant the young wizard the strength to continue.

“After that, Arch and I went after the Genesis Seals.” That snapped Merlin’s attention back to the present. Douxie didn’t seem to notice, reciting his life’s story like he was reading it from a dusty tome. “Everyone else was supposed to stay out of sight, safe, until we got back. But the Order found them. They took Nari and the others prisoner. To barter for the Seals.”

“Which, of course, you did not give them.”

Douxie winced. “Well, actually...”

“Hisirdoux!”

“It’s fine. It was fine, I mean. They wasted a bunch of time chasing their own tails whilst I got Nari and the others out, then I kept them busy whilst Morgana and Claire took care of Arthur and Jim.”

“Just like that, hmm?” Merlin had gone from aghast to incredulous in the space of a single breath. “And where did dying come into it, I wonder?”

“Yes. Right.” It was less of a wince and more of a complete sidestep this time. “Clearly I’m not dead, so I don’t think we need to bother with all of that. The important thing is I promised I would keep Nari safe from the Order. And I did. I kept Nari safe. The Order just went after everyone else.”

Archie had heard enough to realise what a terrible amount of sense that made. If their plan was to wipe the entire world clean and start over again, why would the Order hesitate to destroy a few mortal lives along the way? All they were doing was getting a head start on the apocalypse. After Douxie had already risked so much to save his friends, they must have known he wouldn’t stay in hiding whilst innocents paid the price.

“I wasn’t ready.” He could hear the self-reproach in those words, the guilt, and pressed himself harder against the hand nestled in his fur. “They used me against you. They used Claire and the others against me. I should have known they wouldn’t stop there. Why bother searching the planet for two people when you can just start picking off everyone they’ve ever known, one by one, and wait for them to arrive to stop you?”

Merlin pressed his lips together in a grim line. “The Order set a trap.”

“And I walked into it with my eyes open. I knew what was waiting for me in there. I wasn’t going to leave anyone else in their hands. We got a lot of people out before it all went horribly wrong.”

“Because those people didn’t matter to Skrael and Bellroc.” Merlin sounded odd, though Archie couldn’t quite place his paw on the why. “They were after you.”

“They were after Nari,” Douxie corrected. “I just happened to be in the way.”

Merlin dismissed that with a sharp flick of his hand. “They didn’t lay a trap for Nari, Hisirdoux; Easy enough to hunt her down after the fact. The Order was eliminating a threat.”

Douxie smiled, not looking the slightest bit amused. “Finally made an impression, and it was on the worst possible people. Figures.”

“I don’t understand.” Morgana might have gleaned her answers from all the madness they had seen during their journey into the Shadow Realm; Archie had not. “How did you end up here, like this?”

Douxie shuddered slightly, offering a stilted explanation. “When I went back for her, that first time, Nari told me the Order would rip my soul to pieces. She wasn’t... it wasn’t an exaggeration. They tried, and she got in the way.” One of his hands moved unconsciously to rest at his chest as he continued, an edge of fond frustration to his words. “She wasn’t supposed to be there. We agreed she would stay away. But she tried to pull me out, and so did Claire, and something… something went wrong. I don’t know. I wasn’t really in the best position to pay attention. Maybe it’s that whole Guardian of the Eternal Forest thing, or Bellroc’s spell messing with Nari’s, or Claire’s shadow magic, or a combination of all of those things. Either way, I’m here, apparently. Again.”

“But not in body,” Merlin pointed out, shifting his weight back slightly as he lifted a hand to rub his chin. “She sent your soul back in time.”

“If it’s any consolation, Master, I don’t think she was trying to.”

Merlin harrumphed loudly, but didn’t press his apprentice for further answers, turning his steely gaze onto Morgana instead. “And your thoughts?”

To her credit, Morgana didn’t shy away from admitting what they had both done. “The Shadow Realm is in disarray. There are windows, glimpses through time scattered everywhere. I think Douxie is right; The combination of all that magic in one place reacted in a way nobody could have predicted, the result being, well, this.”

Archie huffed slightly, “It sounds to me like all of us are just guessing at this point.”

This time, the smile reached Douxie’s eyes. “Welcome to the world of wizardry, Arch.”

“Indeed,” Merlin interrupted dryly. “Unfortunately, we are going to need a little more than educated guessing if we are going to set this right. We need to get you back to where you belong, sooner rather than later.”

“You want to send him back?” Archie whirled on the Master Wizard. “You can’t! They’ll just finish what they started.”

“Obviously, this is going to take some thought.” Merlin waved away his outrage. “We can hardly go knocking on the Arcane Order’s door and hope the Nari of this time is willing to tell us what she thinks happened.” 

“What about the Arcane Order of his time?” Morgana pressed. “Archie is right. If we just return Douxie to where — when — he came from, we are practically handing the world over to them.”

“Oh, and I suppose you think we should rewrite all of history to prevent this apocalyptic future? A future it seems you played a rather large part in, might I add.”

“Master.”

“Don’t ‘Master’ me, Hisirdoux. It is the truth, and she knows it.”

“Yes, it is the truth.” Douxie was angry, the words running out fast and clipped. “She turned against Arthur to protect someone who doesn’t have a bad bone in his body, because you wouldn’t take five seconds to listen to me when I told you there was another way. She died for that mistake, the Arcane Order brought her back, and the rest is just the sort of bloody mess you can expect when the Order is involved. Arthur wasn’t any better once they had their hands on him. He’s the reason you’re not around in the future right now to help stop the world from ending. So maybe, just maybe, we could skip the part where we go around deciding who is to blame for what, and just figure out how to make sure the arcane apocalypse doesn’t actually happen.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed, except for the fact that Douxie’s breathing had taken on a strained note again. Archie glanced up at his familiar in time to catch the grimace that flashed across his face, and instantly lifted himself up to place his paws gently against the boy’s chest.

“Douxie? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He raised his hands to press their heels against his eyes, exhaling shakily. “Sorry, yes, I’m fine. It’s just… been a day. Or nine centuries in reverse. Or whatever you call it when your spirit decides to skip backwards in time.”

“You’re babbling, Doux.”

“I have been known to do that from time to time. It’s a thing. Ask Zoe. Or… don’t, I guess, seeing as you can’t.”

“I believe the apocalypse in nine hundred years can wait a few more hours,” Morgana interjected gently before his familiar’s rambling could get any worse. “We all need time to mull this over, and you need to rest.”

“Yes.” Unexpectedly, Merlin agreed without missing a beat. “Morgana and Archibald’s quest into the Shadow Realm might have helped stabilise your aura for now, but I expect there is still some lingering damage.”

“I’m not dead.” The cheer might have been forced, but Archie could not deny his wizard was trying. “That’s got to count for something, right?”

“It counts for a great deal, Douxie,” he answered with all the sincerity he could put into words. “But you’re still going to bed.”

[rileysroleplayingephemera]

Soooo... in the RP I’m currently in, all the PCs have fallen for this one (awesome) NPC, to a greater or lesser extent. Also, I would totally be on board for him to have a side romance with another NPC (not a specific one, just, I’d be down for that. Mohammed is eminently shipable).

Also, we found out in the last session that he’s literally a millionaire doctor with huge emotional issues (well, we knew some of that already) which makes him a literal Harlequin Presents hero.

Anyway, I have no chill, so I made THESE.

Bonus: My character with his husband

Yes, they’re all supposed to be this horrible.

Fake romance novel summaries under the cut, because I am steadily losing the ~negative 50 chill I have.

Sheikh’s Desert Duty

A fake mistress... in a very real predicament!

Pamela Martel is used to changing her identity to suit herself and keep the authorities off her trail, but high society is not a place she’s comfortable. High heels and evening gowns don’t exactly scream ‘rebel, rebel’. But she’s not sending another man she loves into the lion’s den alone.

Mohammed Bashir might not be at ease in this world, but he’s a lot more familiar with it than she is. His father’s reputation can get them in - but it can’t keep their enemies’ watchful eyes off Mohammed. He knows Pam is the only way to get the information they need... but he also knows they can’t afford any distractions.

But as the situation grows steadily more precarious, and Pam and Mohammed are forced to depend on each other for more than backup, it becomes clear that one thing neither of planned for was their hearts.

“...immensely satisfying...” - theringer.com

Desert Affair

She’s far from home... and trapped in Paradise!

Kaelyn Howard never planned to get swept up in world events - but now she’s targeted by terrorists and on the run from the law, trying desperately to stay alive, get out of the country... and reconnect with the daughter she never knew.

With fellow fugitive Mohammed Bashir, Kit is forced to flee the United States - running straight to his father’s luxurious empire. But there’s more to reckon with than their enemies - there’s her painful history, her complicated feelings, and Mohammed’s dark and mysterious past - which may put them all in even more danger...

“...pretty adorable.” - @theserpentsadvocate​

The Sheikh Doctor’s Bride (First Edition)

Never back down...

Pam Martel is stranded.

After everything she’s done in the last few years, the United States finally has a valid excuse to throw her in jail. She can’t even go home to Canada without being extradited. Given everything she’s done to stop a terrorist cult - and the fact that her friends are going back to their old lives while she’s trapped in the Emirates - the rest of her life looks both bitter and bleak.

Mohammed Bashir is the one bright spot in her awful situation, but he’s not without his own troubles. Without a wife, he’s in danger of losing his father’s comprehensive business empire. After all he’s been through, Mohammed is on the point of giving up and going back to the one thing he can still fall back on - medicine. But there’s no way Pam is going to let that happen to the one person who hasn’t abandoned her.

Maybe she should have thought before she made the offer, but there are worse things than being married to stunningly handsome millionaire doctor. If only she wasn’t in love with him...

“OMG.” - @natalie-is-my-name​

Be Loved

The only way forward... is together

In the years since they’ve last seen each other, things have changed a lot for Reuven Svobodya and Mohammed Bashir... but some things are still far too similar.

Mohammed has done a lot of soul-searching in the interim, and it’s pretty certain now that he’s not as straight as he once thought, but coming face to face with the man who prompted that realization still isn’t something he would have chosen. Some friendships are better left unrevived, especially when one of you can’t be honest. And then there’s the fact Mohammed is sure that Reuven still blames him for the loss of his family - after all, he blames himself.

It’s been a long time since Reuven decided to cut everyone important out of his life - any more hurt would have been impossible to take. Making a completely new life for himself was the only way to survive the crushing weight of what happened. But being near someone he once cared about is making him question that for the first time. And if he can forgive Mohammed, maybe he can finally forgive himself...

“[W]hen I've... started questioning my use of my limited time on this planet... this is what I'll remember.” - actual professional musician Luke Maynard

Christmas Bride for the Sheikh

Under the mistletoe... for two weeks!

Pam Martel was hoping to dodge the tiresome Christmas season and say hello to an old friend - she didn’t anticipate becoming his fake wife!

When Mohammed told a business associate he was engaged, the white lie was supposed to fend off the man’s overly amorous daughter; he never anticipated this! While being told his wife had arrived for the Christmas celebrations was a shock, Pam is the one person who might be able to pull off the deception - a good thing, since being caught out could ruin an important political connection for him.

Pam’s usually willing to roll with anything, but this is different. She’s carried a torch for Mohammed for years, and if there was ever a right time to make a play for him, this is it. She’ll be Mrs. Bashir, all right - and the act will be so realistic her ‘husband’ won’t know what hit him!

“Friends-to-lovers has never been more fun.” - soyouthinkyoucanwrite.com

The Harlot and the Sheikh

He gave her everything she wanted... except his heart.

Samar Naaji has been forced to do some awful things to survive. So has Mohammed Bashir. The difference is that while Samar is condemned by society, Mohammed is condemned only by himself.

In a chance encounter, Samar once saved Mohammed at great risk to herself, and while she doesn’t expect a hero to remember someone like her, she’s willing to try anything to get her sister the medical care she so desperately needs.

The last thing she expects is to be whisked into a world of luxury while all her worries disappear. More comfortable scrubbing a floor than being waited on, Samar devotes herself to understanding her rescuer, and quickly finds that underneath his wealth and privilege is a deeply broken man.

All Samar wants is to make him understand how good he is... but by that time, will she be too captivated to survive without him?

“[You] should... lead with [this].” - @theserpentsadvocate​

Every Move He Makes

To stay alive, they will have to learn to lean on each other.

Reuven Harel doesn’t have the slightest idea what’s going on, but he knows it isn’t good. Counting on someone else to get him through this is galling, but at the very least he’s sure Mohammed is more trustworthy than the multitudes of people shooting at them. The truth is, the other man is the only thing keeping them both alive.

Mohammed Bashir knows exactly what’s going on, but he’s pretty sure he’s starting to fracture around the edges. The man he’s chosen to protect might be utterly in the dark, but Mohammed envies him his rock-solid sense of self. In fact, he’s starting to think that Reuven might be the only thing keeping him sane.

As their enemies grow and the body count rises, the two men must turn to each other for what they can’t find anywhere else: safety, surety... and maybe even love.

“What is even happening right now?” - @whimzhbeeaffairs​ (Also Reuven, probably.)

The Sheikh Doctor’s Bride (Second Edition)

One condemned by her crimes, the other by his past... but can they save each other?

After breaking the law to stay alive, Kit Howard is facing extradition back to the United States. The only way to stay free is to remain in Saudi Arabia... married to a citizen. After the wreckage of her first horrific marriage, she balks at the restrictions that come with it.

The tumultuous events that brought them together have left their mark on Mohammed Bashir. Before he goes back to his old life, he’s willing to make one final sacrifice to keep Kit safe - but after the loss of his father and brothers, getting attached seems almost fatally foolish.

Neither Kit nor Mohammed wants anything more out of this marriage than necessary... but somehow that’s all too easy to forget when they’re together. At least, as good friends and nothing more, nobody’s heart will get broken...

“OMG.” - @whimzhbeeaffairs​

Dancing With the Tide

The greatest risk... is love

Mohammed Bashir’s purpose is to protect people more important than himself, people who can make a difference. Right now, that person is Reuven Harel. As the illegitimate son of an influential American politician, he might have leverage; as one of the prophesied Lightbringers, he has an unknown amount of power - but even if it’s all a myth, his simply staying alive is vital to Mohammed’s cause. He’s also a genuinely good person - not the worst man in the world to take a bullet for, if it comes down to it.

Reuven doesn’t believe in a bunch of supernatural bullshit, but he does believe in fulfilling his obligations. As far as he’s concerned, Mohammed is an innocent civilian being targeted by terrorists - and the American government - and it’s Reuven’s responsibility as a police officer to keep him safe. That he’s kind, handsome, and unfairly charming is irrelevant.

At first, the only thing the two men can agree on is that they want the other safe - but when things take a dark turn, they find common ground in other ways. When they’re forced to take refuge in a part of the world where their growing feelings could be punished by death, things threaten to burn out of control. If they want to avoid losing each other, they’re going to have to risk their hearts...

“My word.” - Luke Maynard, literal published author

Be True

They’ve been friends for years, but who knows what’s hiding beneath the surface…

Reuven Harel has always known who he is and what he wanted.

Sure, he’s gone from being the loud, angry, openly gay teenager at marriage equality rallies to an equally out RCMP officer, but he’s still loud, still proud, and still determined to change the world for the better. Unfortunately, being between serious relationships brings it home that he’s also still hung up on a too-good-to-be-true college friend. It’s not worth jeopardizing their friendship – but now he knows Paul’s not straight, it’s even harder to let those feelings die.

Paul Svobodya lost the blueprint for his life a long time ago.

He likes teaching history, likes living in Halifax, and frankly he loves being a single dad. It’s a long way from teaching English in Alberta with a wife and 2.5 kids, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything. He never intended to be single at twenty-seven, newly out as bisexual, and supporting a mortgage and a five-year-old, but that’s how things shook down. Rocking the boat at this point seems like a bad idea, but with his last serious relationship over and one or two casual dates with men under his belt, it’s hard to keep on denying what he really wants…

“This is the purest and wholest thing.” - Luke Maynard

*

(All novel write-ups are technically and theoretically canon-compliant as of this writing, although I used Reuven’s birth name in EBHT and DWtT because using his married name felt squicky. Yes, I killed his husband in the other one. I literally murdered my own OTP. Jesus fuck. I don’t believe it either. And let’s not even think about Nat.)

Stay tuned for the harem anime and maybe a mockup of the more serious AU/novella idea I have where Paul sells Christmas trees.

Why am I like this.

[dyde21]

Soulmates

@mooshie05 Had submitted a request to me that had been bouncing around my head! Basically everyone has a soulmate, and before you meet them you share their physial pain. I tweaked it slightly to fit better with what I had in my head, I hope that’s okay! (Also because the idea of someone just bleeding randomly terrified me and brought far too many logistical problems for my tired butt to deal with.) Anyway, a little short but I hope you enjoy!

XxXxXxXxX

Annabeth was pretty sure that if she wouldn't absolutely love her soul mate, she'd hate him. Clearly the whatever God there was must have had a sense of humor when designing their world. Yes, everyone in the world was born with a soulmate. Someone who'd be your other half, someone you'd live happily with as long as no accidents happened. Someone who could quiet your demons, and stoke your flames. Someone that would show you home wasn't a place, but a person. Sounds wonderful, right? The only problem was the first way you learned about them was through pain. Yes, before someone met their soulmate they had a connection. Unfortunately it wasn't some romantic longing or feeling. No, it was whenever your partner was bruised, cut, scarred or injured, you would feel a ghost of their pain.

Most of the time it wasn't that big of a deal. Occasionally there'd be some pain, enough to make you worry about them, and feel relieved when they healed knowing they were out there somewhere living their life.

Of course sometimes the worst happened. A soulmate died before you ever met them, or was in a horrible accident. It was an utterly tragic event, and physical pain aside, the emotional pain crippled a person. Years of therapy were often required to help the person cope with the loss of an unknown half of their being, and sometimes they never recovered. Luckily it wasn't as common as it could be thankfully.

It was something most people feared, but for some reason Annabeth didn't really fear that.

No, her soulmate seemed so determined to find ways to hurt himself, he was clearly to stubborn to die. She knew absolutely nothing about him, other than the fact he was clearly living some sort of fun life. It was a rare day that she woke up without some phantom ache or pain. Some reminder that “Hey! I'm your soulmate, I'm out here, and I'm a dumb ass!”

As annoying as it was, it was something Annabeth had learned to get kind of used to. She had also put a lot of thought into it, wondering if she could piece together what kind of person her soulmate was, so she could seek him out, meet him to end the dreaded pain sharing, then kick his butt for putting her through so much.

But despite all the time she spent thinking about it, the best guess she could come up with was some sort of sport. The injures were always the knees, elbows, ankles, and butt. Not the usual suspects for someone who got into a lot of fights, or someone seeking pain. No, those seemed like the normal signs of some athletic kid with no concern for his own safety, or seemingly hers.

Why couldn't he be like her? She very rarely was injured on her own. Never broken a bone, never been in a fight, never even really had a bad accident. Surely she was the perfect soulmate for someone.

Once she had complained to her dad about it, and he had just smiled and said “Bear with it. No one knows what to expect, but once you meet them you'll appreciate having known they were a part of your life the whole time. Plus it'll give you a conversation starter.” He had said with a laugh. So Annabeth didn't really talk to her dad about it again, deeming him a little too unhelpful.

In the end, she tried to listen to her family and friend's advice. Just try and bear with it, and look forward to the day her patience is rewarded. Though she had to admit it got more difficult as her friends all met theirs. Piper met a boy named Jason when they were 15. Her neighbor Will met a boy named Nico not long after. Hazel met Frank early, back when they were both 13. Her friend Leo had even found his partner in a girl named Calypso. That had cemented just how powerful the soulmate connection was in her mind. Leo had always been a bit eccentric, yet he had found a wonderful girlfriend and they seemed particularly happy together.

Even Annabeth was willing to admit that she might be a little jealous. Piper said it was cause she's always studying in libraries that “Of course you haven't met him. He's having fun, you should try it sometime.”. Annabeth just brushed that off though. Surely her soul mate in life would also love libraries right? Sure he got injured often, but he must spend a decent amount of time reading her like, right? That was what she told herself at least.

The one thing Annabeth never expected to feel was worry when the pain stopped. At first she shrugged it off, relieved that she had gone a month without dealing with some kind of pain.

Around a month and a half she began to feel a little nervous. Was everything okay with him? She had no way of knowing, and just chalked it up to the change. She was never particularly fond of change anyway. She liked permanent things.

At three months, she was downright terrified. Had something happened? It wasn't like the pain had completely stopped cold. There was still the odd pain in her foot from a stubbed toe, or the ghost of a small knick from something sharp. But the usual echoes of pain were gone. Did something major happened? It couldn't have. She'd have known if anything physical had happened. Was he okay? Was he depressed? Honestly, she felt a little silly worrying about the mental health of someone she never met and literally has only caused pain for her. Then again, he was her soul mate so it was to be expected.

At about five months without any of the usual pain, Annabeth was seriously trying to figure out a plan to find him. The tiny echoes of pain she had felt let her know she hadn't met him yet, but now both her curiosity and her concern were burning together in her, making a powerful combination.

When she felt pain flare up in her knees, elbows, butt, and shoulder she almost let out a few tears of relief. It was weird, she never thought she'd be relieved to feel pain. He was back at it. Doing whatever it was he did.

“Dude, are you okay? That was nasty.” A voice called out from somewhere nearby.

Annabeth froze in place. Surely that was just a coincidence.

“I'm fine!” A voice replied.

The sound sent a ripple through her body, it felt like a switch inside her had been turned on. Like gears that had been misaligned slipped into place. Her mind kicked into overdrive and her heart was pounding. That voice. She knew she had never heard it before, but it felt so natural. Like it was a voice she had heard her whole life. It was the only voice she wanted to hear. Dropping her backpack, she turned and took off in a dead sprint towards the source of that voice.

It was him.

IT WAS HIM.

IT WAS HIM!

She knew it. From the bottom of her soul, she knew it.

Shoving past a tall blonde she vaguely recognized at Piper's soul mate, she froze. Her eyes locked with a boy on the ground, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

The boy was tall and lean, decked out in jeans and a flannel, a skateboard overturned near him. Some small part of Annabeth's mind registered the fact a skater made perfect sense, and she was a little annoyed she hadn't pieced it together before. His eyes mesmerized her, and she instantly knew she could stare at them for hours.

“Hello?” She managed to choke out, still in shock from everything in her life sliding into place.

The boy visibly reacted to her voice as his jaw dropped as if he was feeling the same thing she was. He was feeling the same thing she was.

“What's your name?” Was all he said, slowly standing up.

“Annabeth Chase.” She replied automatically as she took in his standing form. Memorizing all the little details, the way he rested his weight heavily on one foot, had only one hand in a pocket, his hat on just a little too crooked to be intentional.

“I'm Percy Jackson.” He answered her unspoken question, still studying her.

“Have you met... your soul mate?” He asked, a clear nervousness in his voice.

Nodding, Annabeth felt tears annoyingly creeping up into the corner of her eyes. She had always told herself she wouldn't be one of those girls who cried when meeting their partner. But it was just such a relief. “I think I just did.”

Hesitantly Percy took a step forward, prompting her to as well. A second later and they rushed forward, wrapping each other in a tight hug.

“I'm so glad I found you.” He murmured into Annabeth's ear, sending shivers down her spine.

“Took you long enough.” She muttered in reply, hugging him just a little bit closer.

She was also vaguely aware of Jason talking on hurried only the phone, giving her a thumbs up.

By the time Piper had rushed over, Annabeth and Percy were sitting on the edge of a planter chatting happily. She felt the awkward tension between them quickly slipping away, as they found a comfortable pace between the two of them. It was still bumpy as they pushed and pulled, figuring out each other.

Piper had immediately introduced herself to Percy as Annabeth's best friend and future bridesmaid.

Annabeth really had never expected her soulmate to fit into her life as quickly as Percy did. The constantly small dates for coffee or lunch. The messages they woke up to each morning from each other. The little bickering and banter they both found they had a habit of starting.

Percy was also nothing like she had expected. He had recently moved to the city with his mom. He hated studying, and much preferred hanging out with friends. When pestered about the sudden change in pain, and the constant pain she felt he had immediately flushed red in embarrassment and shame. Like she had guessed, he was an avid skateboarder. However after a bad spill, a friend had mentioned that his soul mate must be miserable from all the scrapes cuts and bruises he got.

Sheepishly Percy had admitted he never considered that. Sure he had always daydreamed about Annabeth, but he had never connected the fact that his skateboarding would be bad for her. So he had just stopped. But missing it, he had taken to wearing more protection and trying to play it safe. That day had actually been the first time he had been convinced to do more of the dangerous tricks again.

Annabeth couldn't help but roll her eyes fondly at how absent minded he had been. How could he have not had realized. She was planning on complaining a little more, but he had fired back that he hated paper cuts and he had been dealing with them for years as well, which had shut her up. She hadn't really considered how many she got from all her reading either. Plus, he had tried to give up his favorite hobby for her. Not something she would have wanted to him to do of course, but the sentiment still made her heard soar.

Percy's mom had also been the coolest mom ever, it had been official. She had been downright terrified of meeting her, her mom having been a bit intimidating. But Sally had welcomed her with open arms, literally. Annabeth had been swept into a hug immediately upon the door opening.

She had also found out that he was on the swim team, that he had quickly become the top swimmer on his new team. When she had rushed out and hugged him after he had won swim meet she had gone to, it had dawned on her. Never in her life would she have imagined going to a swim meet. Not to mention standing in front of others as she shared a celebratory kiss with her soul mate, the rest of the world fading from focus. Never did she imagine passing on studying to go out and learn how to skateboard. Never did she imagine that instead of snuggling up alone to enjoy a movie that she would find another's presence much more relaxing next to her on the couch.

Standing there, staring at Percy as the water dripped from his hair, his unrestrained smile directed solely at her, as if he was happier to see her than win the meet, Annabeth realized everything had changed.

For once though, she didn't mind this change. This was the start of something permanent.

XxXxXxXxX

Thank you for reading! Please feel free to send me more percabeth fluff prompts anyone who is reading this! I still have a few in my inbox I will work through! I just write them as I’m inspired, no real order. The next thing I post will probably be chapter 4 of the Cafe!AU I’m working on. Till next time!

[shadowofhapiness]

Shards Of Ice (17/20)

Summary: When princess Anna finds herself gifted a personal slave for her twentieth birthday, her life changes, as she becomes fascinated with the broken girl she’s been given as a servant. Discovering her present’s supernatural abilities and how she was forced to conceal them, Anna just might be able to help Elsa heal, offering her the one thing she’d always been denied, love. [Elsanna]

AN: A bit of a premature resolution to the angst at the end there, but I'm hoping to fit that in to the next chapter. In the meantime, here's a lot of panic and Anna realizing what type of a life she really wants (hint, it doesn't really involve a crown ;)). 

Rated: T

Word Count: ~ 5.900 words (~ 79.300 total)

Fanfiction.net - Archive Of Our Own

Race Against The Clock

The atmosphere in the room was absolutely stifling, and that was putting it lightly.

Anna knew she ought not to have expected anything else –this even was really important, it was for her, it was for the noble families (who had come a very long way for some) to welcome her into her new place in society and was a chance for her to get to know them a little better at the same time- but the big fuss, while it had initially beheld some sort of a thrill for her and had gradually become something she’d been looking forward to, she now realized, rather ironically, that she couldn’t wait for the whole thing to be over and done with so she could run away, back to her own safe private bedroom where she knew she would be shielded from all of those expectant gazes.

Never one to be really shy around people whether they be familiar or mere strangers, it was rather uncomfortable how small this was making her feel just picturing herself, in the chair while surrounded by so many people, and as Anna watched the servants pass by with a copious plate filled to the brink in their hands (sometimes carefully balancing it and almost having it fall, much to the amusement of the younger princes seated at the front rows) and the sheer number of different guests that had turned up, the knowledge that each and every one of them no doubt had expectations of her –ones they hoped she would fulfill since it would be her duty once she stepped into her father’s place- and the sudden weight of it all crashing down onto her shoulders almost left her wanting for breath for an instant.

Keep it together, Anna, easy does it.

And through it all, that was definitely the worst part of it: keeping it together, showing them all what they wanted to see while at the same time, she felt like falling to pieces on the inside. Oh, Anna wanted to do right by them, live up to her father’s name and legacy, make her parents proud, but as she now felt more isolated than ever, she begun to realize the sheer size of the task at hand (one she would have to undertake alone), and more importantly, just how overwhelming it was. Even the deep calming breath she tried to take in order to convince herself that everything would be okay and that everything would be fine and that everything would work out wasn’t enough this time around.

It was in moments like this that she felt a pang of loss at the fact that she couldn’t simply be Anna, the real woman with a personal life and with her own feelings and emotions, the actual person who stood behind the title of ‘princess and heir to Arendelle’, and that she instead had to suppress all of that inner struggle for everyone else’s sake. The only one person she’d ever managed to let down that carefully crafted façade with had been Elsa –but those distant bittersweet memories, while she cherished them still, were just that, distant memories- and when scanning the crowd in the hopes of maybe spotting her among the guests and the few selected servants that had been tasked with serving them all food and drink throughout the evening turned out to be naught but a disappointment, Anna felt more alone than ever.

They didn’t understand. She didn’t blame them, but as she watched all of the Southern and Western nobles cheering (at the top of their lungs for certain, who must have already been slightly too indulgent with the wine), talking heartily, laughing at some clever twist of tongue or an inside joke she could definitely not hope to make out from where she sat and all around basking in what was, for them at least, a festive atmosphere, without so much as even sparing a glance in her direction –turning a blind eye to her panic, to the building anxiety in her chest and the overall loneliness Anna was drowning in, the whole lot hidden behind a carefully crafted mask- the princess was envious and, not for the first time that evening did she wish she could just partake in their levity, because seeing them all like this (simply having a good time), while Anna was definitely relieved they seemed pleased with the evening so far, she just selfishly wished for a moment that she could have that too. This was supposed to be a special day for her, was it really too much to ask for?

“You don’t seem to be doing so well.” Has said quietly from beside her, leaning his head in so as to not have to risk someone potentially overhearing them, and it took Anna a moment to actually process the fact that he was talking to her, the buzzing noise of the room certainly not accommodating any kind of small talk. “You need anything?”

I need a breath of fresh air. I need Elsa. But again, to her dismay, the blonde hadn’t magically popped up when her eyes quickly swept over the room for the second time in not even five minutes (was she really that desperate for her to be there? Anna guessed she probably was, at this point).

“You really do like her, don’t you?”

Anna’s panic came to a momentary halt, because damn it, Hans certainly wasn’t supposed to pick up on the fact that she still wasn’t over the ruined potential of what she and Elsa could have –might have, under different and more favorable circumstances-been, but it seemed the Southerner was much more perceptive a chap than she’d initially given him credit for. “Now really isn’t the time for-“

“Now might be the only time.” He whispered tersely, all levity to the conversation suddenly evaporating into thin air. Anna fully turned to him then, not too sure as to what exactly could have prompted him to chose to do so. “Look, you and I, we aren’t all that different from one another, a prince and a princess, we spent most of our childhood with people telling us how to act and what to say, we have big expectations placed on our shoulders and a noble name to live up to which comes before anything else. It’s not the most peachy of lives, but it’s ours. The thing is, you still have a choice, you can still walk away from it if you want to, you can just about do anything until you decide to make that speech in front of all of those people and making the whole thing an official matter. It’s not too late to turn back if it’s what you really want.”

Anna looked down, gave herself a moment to let all of that sink in.

It was nice to have someone like Hans, someone stuck in the same position as her, someone who truly understood how horrible this dilemma she was facing was. Looking back on it, Anna really hadn’t thought things through when she’d called things off with Elsa, she had thought it would be easy (just focus on your duties, forget the heart, throw yourself into the role a hundred percent and everything would turn out all right. Well, look how well that turned out), but when she woke up at ungodly hours in the morning by herself, other half of the bed empty where someone used to fill it, when the ache in her heart at how utterly alone she felt became too unbearable to deal with at times, when the brightest highlights of her days had become those tiny fractions of moments when she’d catch a fleeting glimpse of Elsa’s arm, the end of her braided blonde hair or even the tail of her signature purple dress (just knowing she’d been there) or –when she was lucky enough- the short actual conversations they’d had the opportunity to have, those were the most cherished of memories Anna had of the last few weeks. It only now dawned on her that those had been the moments where she’d felt at home, where she’d felt like Anna, like she was whole since this whole ceremonial business had begun, and despite the efforts she had been dong to control herself, those memories hadn’t faded away in the slightest. As a matter of fact, Anna felt that she was missing Elsa now more than ever.

“I-I can’t.” Anna stuttered half-heartedly, voice definitely lacking in conviction as the words she’d told herself over and over once again made it past her lips. “I wish I could, but I can’t, I don’t have a choice in this.”

This conversation was certainly starting to shape into something she didn’t want.

“I owe it to all of them, those people, they need me, I’ll have to lead them one day, it’s important that I follow in my father’s footsteps and take up his mantel when he will no longer be able to carry it, it’s my duty as princess and heir to the throne of Arendelle, and if the crown comes at the expense of something or someone I was personally attached to –am personally attached to-, well there isn’t much that can be done for it, I simply have to accept it.”

She shot him a strained smile, hoping that he would understand that there truly was no other alternative to this situation that she could think of. People like her, they didn’t have the luxury of going against notions such as duty and tradition, no matter what, surely Hans could understand that.

Glancing back at him, the Prince seemed to have gone quite sullen, eyes strained on his half filled plate as if hoping the appetizing looking food would put him in a better mood, as he kept quiet. Turning back to her own one, Anna wished for the same, for she was quickly finding that there wasn’t much to be happy about in all of this bar maybe living up to her family’s name. Elsa, although she had kept a hopeful eye out for her, still hadn’t shown up, and Oleg… Gods only knew where he’d gotten lost, the empty chair next to her mother still stuck out like a sore thumb and while she doubted her cousin would show up this late, Anna hoped that she’d be able to catch him later to have a word with him about it, and he better have a damn good excuse up his sleeve for missing out on all of this or she wasn’t going to let him live it down, ever.

Anna smiled grimly as she imitated her father, lifting her glass and ducking her head as she acknowledged the room’s enthusiastic toast to her good health, success and bright future (and she quickly found out that she really didn’t like being at the center of attention of such a large crowd)and brought the drink to her lips, the sweet smell the only highlight of this, thus far, rather gloomy evening.

Her dress had begun to itch, the costly fabric grating against her skin beneath and for the third time already, Anna held back the sudden urge to finger it slightly to dislodge the discomfort. The last person to have touched the fabric there had been Elsa, and, as she looked down at her sleeve, Anna could still picture the other girl’s creamy pale skin, her long and delicate fingers carefully adjusting her cuffs so they sat perfectly on her wrist, embracing it’s form, wanting not only for the ceremony to be perfect but for Anna to feel perfect too. In her silent gratitude, Anna drowned out the rest of the noise in the background, as she all too willingly let her gaze be captured by the edge of her sleeve and tried to put herself back in her very own room –away from all the noise, away from the crowd- back to a safe place, where it was just her and Elsa.

It had been intimate, such simple and ordinary gestures they had repeated over and over  every day of their life, but there had been something special in the way Elsa had let her finger trail on her shoulder gently as she adjusted the fabric (maybe she was even reluctant to break contact, or maybe that was simply Anna making things up in her own mind, reading too much into it) and it had been like Elsa was treating her like delicate glass, like she was performing a sacred ritual between the two of them –something nobody else was ever to by privy to-, pouring all of her heart into her meticulous task. Anna leaned back in her chair, reminiscing over the swell in her chest at just how much it was moments like these that made her feel so content in merely being alive. Moments where neither of them had needed to utter a sound yet love and utter devotion to one another had been written across both of their features.

And that, was what she missed the most right now, that sense of wholeness, of being with someone who understood her fully and who she, in turn, sort of understood back, the whole reciprocity of the thing that went far beyond gentle to passionate kisses and exchanged “I love yous”. The people here –and more importantly, one person among them, was probably to be her future husband –or at least, both her parents strongly hoped that to be the case- but they wouldn’t understand that connection, she and said stranger wouldn’t ever be able to build that bond she and Elsa had because, well, they weren’t Elsa. Anna wouldn’t marry any of those handsome and undoubtedly charming young men out of love, and the lack of a connection between them (which would be something mutual, she to him and him to her) would forever dig an ever growing whole they wouldn’t be able to mend. Never mind the hole she could feel growing in her heart at the prospects of such a life, a life of constant dissatisfaction because the one person she knew would be able to fill it would forever be out of her grasp.

Anna didn’t want this –the mask, the coldness, the distance, the sheer lack of true love that went along with taking up the crown- and as her hand clenched over her knew as she took in all of the utter fakeness of it all, she felt like running, wanted to run far away as she could of something that was completely not her, and which was not the future she wanted to be trapped in until she eventually died at a miserable old age, without ever having had the chance to truly live beforehand. The entrance door was right ahead of her, behind the sea of guests, taunting her with an escape, daring her to just stand up and run, take Elsa and run away and never come back, and Ana’s throat clogged up as she realized just how trapped she was. How trapped she was now going to be.

Life just wasn’t fair, was it?

She brought her hand up to her face, discreetly wiped away the moisture she could feel gathering t the corner of her eye –hoped everyone else would just read it as here simply being overwhelmed with the ceremony, at being utterly happy at the prospects of the world she was now entering and not be able to read past the impassive mask to see the last crumbling shards of a broken heart at the utter defeat of someone having to lose a part of themselves in order to endorse a disguise for the rest of their life. A mask that would rule the their every day, their every decision, their reactions out in public and have to quell their own personal being beneath when wrestling with difficult decisions calling for a little more compassion and humanity. Anna felt like a literal part of her soul was slowly being crushed right in front of her as it cried out for help, for her to fight back and keep it, no not give it up out of an obligation she was forced to fulfill, yet as she sat there, she found herself unable to do anything else besides watch as it happened, pretty certain that it was too late to fix things now.

When she woke up tomorrow, she would be completely alone.

Maybe it was for the best that Elsa had not been tasked with joining the ranks of castle servants whose task it was to bring them the food, Anna wasn’t entirely certain that she would be able to take it, having the one person who had come to mean the world to her (the one person she’d turned away with absolutely no explanation whatsoever) so close to her yet have to helplessly watch as that invisible barrier between them would firstly go up and then slowly tear them apart.

Swallowing hard, Anna reached out for her glass and took a large gulp (not exactly respecting the manners she’d brought up with, but with emotions threatening to take control of her entire body, it was the first course of action she could think of to counter it) and even at that, the cool drink did very little to help. At this point, she wondered if anything really could.

“Ah, Princess Anna, I must sincerely apologize for not coming over sooner, I’m afraid I must confess that I got quite caught up with small talking your esteemed neighbor Count Stephen over there, you’ll be pleased to know that he is enjoying himself immensely. Especially the refreshments, he asked me to pass his most hearty compliments to you and your kitchen.”

Anna offered the duke of Westleton a stiff smile and her hand to shake, knowing that she could not allow her weariness and will to just be out of here tarnish her behavior towards the duke or any of their other guests for that matter. For his part though, he seemed lively enough, little black eyes sparkling from behind his too-big pair of glasses, and she guessed that if at least someone was getting something positive out of all of this then it might just have been worth it in the end.

“Thank you, sir. And how are the chilly winds treating you here, nothing too uncomfortable I would hope?”

“Oh, I’ll quickly be right as rain after I return home, fear not, but I simply couldn’t pass up on such a special occasion. This is a singular occasion, you officially taking up your position as the crown princess and heir to the kingdom of Arendelle, I thought it nothing but polite to assist the great fortune of a neighboring kingdom in person.”

Anna’s features remained crisp, her whole body going rigid as the old man leaned in his eagerness and excitement certainly lending him to be slightly over-friendly towards her, which was certainly not a feeling she was inclined to share, as she all but wished this was over already so that she could scamper off back to her room, if not to get away from the celebration itself than at least to escape the slightly over-enthusiastic duke.

Maybe if she was lucky enough, she could even request after Elsa, share a moment with her, just the two of them.

“Your good wishes are certainly appreciated.” She offered curtly, crossing her fingers beneath the table vainly hoping that it might get him to just go away. But of course, as if the evening being nothing but morose and one interminable anxiety fest for her wasn’t enough, her prayers went unheeded, and Westleton seemed to plant himself right there, determined to get a conversation out of her.

“Why, you’ll have to come over and visit us one of these days, see and learn about all of our customs in the South and take some time so we might be able to establish a potentially better maritime route with your kingdom –I know we could get a lot of benefit out of a good deal both you and I- and Prince Hans would surely be thrilled to verse you in our ways. And maybe you might even deem it possible to bring along your dear cousin –what was his name Olgar? Olaf?”

“Oleg.” Anna corrected, clearly not amused by his antiques.

“Why Oleg, of course, forgive me for momentarily forgetting it. But as we brought the dear prince up, it does beg the question, where is the lovely gentleman, I have yet to catch a glimpse of him. Ought he not to be here?”

The question made Anna painfully aware of the vacant chair to her right, her cousin‘s absence something she had initially tried not to let dampen the atmosphere. However, not that even their esteemed guests had noticed it, it really became something to be embarrassed about. Whatever Oleg would come up with later to justify his absence was definitely not going to be good enough to save his sorry skin this time around.

“He must have been held up with someone I take it.” Anna ventured, not really knowing what else she could offer the old man as a means to excuse her cousin’s decision to not show up. It stung as she realized it, that Oleg was going to miss out on this, that there was still this small possibility that he had chosen not to assist the ceremony, which he knew had been something important for Anna. A part of her, the one that was always willing to see the best in people, to give everyone a bright smile and look at things with the most positive outlook possible really didn’t want to believe that –that both Oleg and Elsa had consciously decided not to be here for her tonight- but why else were they (still) not here? The first appetizers had been served, the drink was already beginning to flow, the servants had already pulled out of the room and were headed back to the kitchens for the most part, had he (and the blonde) been caught up in the flow they surely would have made their way to them at this point.

“Oh well, I guess he’ll miss out on the toast then… Which is why I’m here actually. Your Majesties,” Westleton said, briefly glancing to the both her parents, “I have a very special gift for you, your highness.” And Anna watched intently as he signaled over one of his fellow servants from the Southern kingdom (recognizable with their foreign-looking attire) with a gesture of his hand. Very carefully, his thin arms picked up the heavy-looking engraved crystal bottle the stranger brought over on a lavish tray, the sparkly red liquid sloshing around.

“Please allow me and Prince Hans to offer you the very best of our Southern vineyards, especially chosen for you by the Prince himself in your honor.”

“I-I,” To be truthful, Anna had certainly never expected something like this, and for a moment, she felt a little embarrassed at receiving such an obviously expensive gift. You really didn’t have to was on the tip of her tongue, ready to express how out of place she felt, but aware that it would no doubt reflect poorly on her to turn down such an offering –especially one so luxurious- and so she took it with both hands, balancing the surprisingly heavy bottle in her left arm for a moment before bringing up her glass with her right and pouring the content into it.

“To a lovely evening and to your good health.” She offered as a toast when raising the glass to the room, the light of the crystal hanging from the ceiling making the liquid inside shine, and the whole room burst into an echoing sentiment, offering a hearty toast in a uniform cheer. It certainly smelt divine (Anna guessed Westleton must be an expert in all of these things) and once the crowd settled down, her lips trembled as she lifted the recipient, cool rim now against her mouth and about to tilt up when-

“No don’t!! ”

The brunette didn’t even have a moment to realize that she’d let go of the glass until the sound of a loud clatter rang in her ears, and, looking down, stunned, to where the carefully crafted pieces now lay, frozen solid.

 Elsa’s beating heart thundering in her ears was the only thing she could vaguely make out as she stood there, stock still, arm still outstretched for a moment, the whole crowd on onlookers staring right back at her, with expressions varying from general surprise to shock to hints of fear. There was a second of confusion, where nobody breathed a sound too busy were they trying t figure out and understand what had just happened under their noses and Elsa swallowed then, hard, painfully aware of what she had just done and just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Punishment of some kind was definitly coming her way, because while Anna maybe understood her and saw her as more than a mere ice wielder, servant or monster –as an actual human being whose wants and desires were worthy of being taken into consideration when it was possible- these people probably didn’t, and it was as her actions were sinking into them that it dawned on her that saving Anna’s life might just be coming with a very steep price, one Elsa had certainly not entertained before using her magic to freeze the pristine glass.

The illusion of peace broke then, cries of outrage and fear overwhelming the room as everybody began to panic, making for the walls and windows on either side, as far away from Elsa as they could possibly get out of fear of being the next ones to meet a similar fate to Anna’s glass while Westleton’s screechy high-pitched voice cried out in outrage over theirs, “Get it! Bring the monster over here!” 

Elsa barely had a moment to process the fact that by monster the old man was actually referring to her when she felt two strong arms take hold on her on either side, and knowing better than to try and fight them (which would probably only worsen whatever decision was made a concerning her fate), the pair both escorted her in a less-than-friendly way to the grand table, where Westleton and Anna’s family were still seated. It was embarrassing, a meek servant like her being paraded though so many noblemen and women, who must all be looking down on her as she past (but Elsa would never know, too fearful of meeting their gaze, knowing they simply wouldn’t understand), and when she and the duke’s guards finally came to a stop, Elsa couldn’t do much either when she was shoved down on her knees none to gently, she simply kept her eyes downcast and didn’t dare meet any of theirs, fearful of jeopardizing herself even further by doing a wrong move.

“What is this?! What is the meaning of this?”

Weslteton’s voice betrayed how he felt, shaking with outrage and indignation – maybe it would have almost been comical under other circumstances- as he all but stomped over to her, his little disproportionate body not making him look very intimidating, but Elsa knew better, past experience had taught her that the brutish-looking weren’t necessary the worst. She quickly flinched back as she felt the cool end of a blade against her neck, which forced her to straighten up, and it was all she could do in order to not swallow, to fearful of injuring herself if she did, and given the potential wound location, there wouldn’t be much that could be done if her neck got cut too deeply.

Her cold hands were shaking badly now.

“No! No, don’t hurt her!”

It was as she saw the silver glinted metal dangerously close to Elsa’s neck that Anna finally managed to get her body to snap out of the paralyzing stupor and stop Weslteton before he did something permanently damaging. Stiffly, she made her way over, as if the trance she’d been a moment ago was somehow still affecting her as she rounded the corner of the table, not caring in the slightest if her decidedly unroyal behavior were to elicit comments from the still stunned crowd. She came to a halt to Elsa’s side, determined to let the duke know that she valued the older girl as her equal, and extended a hand to where it hovered over the older girl’s shoulder, almost touching it, as if it were a silent reassurance that she completely stood with her. Elsa, on the other hand, wished the hand were touching her shoulder, as she thought just grounding her that much more in the here and now might just be what she needed to save her life.

“Don’t you even dare lay a finger on a single one of her hairs on her head.” It was the first time Elsa had ever heard Anna be well and truly angry and the unmistakable threatening quality of her tone –quiet, sharp, but definitely something that ought to be feared- and when the old man refused to lower his weapon, Anna continued with the same air of royal authority, “Put the blade down, now. I’m sure there’s an explanation for all of this.” For a moment, a flicker of hesitation followed her statement, Anna now knowing she had just put her whole situation in jeopardy over a mere servant, but she guessed she was too far in now, and if saving Elsa came at the cost of her title and the respect of those noblemen and women, well so be it. She was pretty certain now that Elsa was someone worth sacrificing it all for.

“You can’t expect me to lower my sword when that thing could attack me at any moment or-“

“That thing has a name, it’s Elsa, and she is my servant, thus under my protection. You will do as I say, now.”

“Do it now.” He father’s crisp and similarly authoritative voice echoing her command gave Anna a little reassurance, knowing that at least he had her back on this decision, that it wasn’t something wrong she’d let her impulse and feelings chose to do without thinking it through first. It certainly halted Westleton, whose hand froze mid-way from reaching for the knife on his plate. “I’m certain that there must be a good reason for this outburst.” And at that, he looked at Elsa with an unusual severity in his gaze, unlike how he’d ever come across to her before, but Elsa supposed the circumstances called for it: she had raised a hand on one of their guests for reasons he knew not yet, to the King all of this likely made little sense. His bushy eyebrows were drawn, frowning almost, and he looked so unlike the gentle man who had taken the very first step in freeing her form a miserable life of slavery by offering her a second chance at Arendelle castle. Elsa gulped in anticipation, definitely knowing that a person of her stature ready to strike a visiting official would not reflect well on any of them, and she could only hope that she’d manage to argue her case convincingly.

“Do you have an explanation for this, Elsa.”

She cast a glance towards him, to his apologetic looking wife in the background and finally to Anna, and the worried crease in her eyebrows and by the way she was biting her lower lip to quell her anxiety let Elsa know just how nervous the other young woman was concerning her fate. A fate Elsa had barely thought about when intervening: Anna’s life had been in danger, there had been little other choices she would have made.

However, the King asking her the question personally, asking her before asking Westleton for his version of events, did not go unnoticed by her, and Elsa took it for what it was: he was trying to offer her a chance to talk her way out of this, trying to let her argue her case in front of these people and maybe even giving her a chance to show them that while a servant she may be, there was a lot more to her than merely bringing the princess food or changing her bedclothes. Equally aware that he –and Anna- was also potentially putting his reputation and namesake at stake by choosing to favor a lower-class citizen over an eminent guest like the Duke, Elsa knew she could do nothing more than tell the truth, that-

“The Duke of Westleton had arranged for the beverage to be poisoned, I overheard him with one of his delegation in charge of the catering. I-I know it was not my place to act out when I had not informed any of you beforehand but I-“ And here Elsa faltered for a moment, unable to look anywhere else but at her feet as the stunned crowd went silent, all ears trained on her, “I just, I just couldn’t let him hurt Anna. I know what I did was dangerous, I know that I shouldn’t have used my magic when I could have hurt any person in here, but I-”

Now rambling on and at a loss as to how exactly she ought to finish her sentence, Elsa felt her cheeks heat up as she still kept her eyes locked with the decorated carpet below, the murmurs of indignation and suspicion already flying among the crowd. It was only when she felt something soft on her cheek that she dared look up, right into Anna’s eyes.

Elsa’s breath stopped for a minute, aware that this was the absolute closest that they had been in a very long time and unsure as to what that entirely meant. Was Anna about to whisper to her to run along to the kitchens, wait for her there where she would come in later and address her due punishment? Was she about to berate her in front of everyone? Was she maybe even going to strike her across the face as a reminder to never lash out in such a public way ever again? Or maybe-

She certainly didn’t expect the princess to crush her lips to hers and kiss her passionately in front of everybody, and the wonderful warm swell erupting in her chest at the fact that Anna was taking her back, Anna wasn’t angry, and that Anna was showing her that she still loved her in front of everybody to sink in.

She choked on a watery laugh when they parted, almost doubtful as to whether it had been real or not, but when Anna’s personal little whisper of Oh god oh god oh god, I’m so sorry, how could I have messed up so much, thank you thank you thank you, thank you for saving my life, I love you so damn much and the repeated little kisses to her temple that Elsa let herself give in, her hands momentarily trying to get re-accustomed to the other’s body before fitting perfectly on her shoulders, just incredibly overwhelmed at this feeling of wholeness and belonging that were suddenly being restored to her.

Maybe a happy ending was in sight after all, the noise of the clapping crowd behind them certainly seemed to be in favor of it. Hopefully Anna was too.

[daihell]

A lot of people want the Inquisitor dead so assassins are an inevitability. Luckily Dorian has his back.  AO3

Dorian was sitting in his usual spot in the library. He had been there most of the day, slowly making his way through the pile of books that had accumulated on and around the table beside him. Eventually, long past the sun had set, Elden came staggering up the stairs and sat down heavily, leaning back against Dorian’s chair.

“Not even going to say hello, Amatus?” Dorian asked, running his fingers through Elden’s hair absently without taking his eyes off his book. Elden made a noncommittal sound. He must be very tired after the long day he had had, dealing with visiting nobles and whatnot. “Why don’t you go to bed?”

“I’ll go shortly,” Elden said, leaning into Dorian’s hand with a quiet sigh.

This wasn’t exactly the first time something like this had happened. Elden had stolen quite a few naps here over the months. Dorian wasn’t quite sure why he came here instead of going to his room, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain.

Dorian continued to read for a time, but he could feel Elden leaning limply against his arm. He should probably get the man to bed before he passes out entirely. When Dorian stood up, Elden nearly fell over with the loss of his arm for support. Dorian sighed, although he was more amused than exasperated, and helped the Inquisitor up but kept a hand on his shoulder, steadying him, just in case.

“Have you been drinking?” Dorian asked, chuckling.

“Maybe a little?” Elden said blearily.

“’A little,’” Dorian echoed as he experimentally released Elden’s shoulder. He swayed dangerously and Dorian quickly steadied him again. “It’s only me, no need to try to hide it. I know Josephine had you meeting all sorts today, I’d want a drink or ten too. Perhaps just go a little easier next time. Or call me so I can join in on the fun at the very least.”

Elden looked like he was going to protest but Dorian took his arm and half-supported him as he led him to his room. Luckily there was no one about at this hour to see the Inquisitor in this state. The stairs proved difficult but eventually Dorian got him to his bed. After pulling Elden’s boots off and tucking him in, Dorian hesitated. He certainly hadn’t seen Elden in such a state before and he wasn’t entire sure he should be left alone at the moment. And, Maker, what had he been drinking? Did Bull give him something again?

Dorian was contemplating fetching a healer when he heard the clink of glass to his right. He thought he had seen movement out of the corner of this eye as well. Had a bird flown into the balcony doors? He walked over cautiously, telling himself he was being silly. Of course it was just a bird, what else could it be? Just the same he wished he had his staff on him, but unfortunately he’d left that behind in the library. The curtain was mostly drawn closed so he couldn’t exactly see much, unfortunately.

He was reaching out to open the door when he saw the hole broken in the glass near the handle. He froze but suddenly the door flew open. Dorian staggered back, off balance, as a figure dressed all in black darted in, daggers flashing in the moonlight. Dorian warded the assassin off with a burst of fire but he was so fast. He was keeping Dorian on the defensive, making it impossible for Dorian to build up any power, just throwing out quick bursts of magic to ward the assassin off.

With disturbing speed, the assassin broke through Dorian’s guard and kicked him in the chest, causing Dorian to go flying. He landed hard on his back and from his position on the ground he saw the assassin bearing down on him. This was it then. There was no way Dorian would be able to get out of the way in time. He might be able to get off one last powerful spell, but it would no doubt take them both out. But then he thought of Elden, helpless and probably already unconscious. If there was any chance he could be saved, it would be worth it. Dorian began charging up the spell, knowing he only had seconds to pull this off.

Suddenly a figure came barreling out of nowhere and Dorian’s spell sputtered out as he recognized Elden. The Inquisitor charged right into the assassin, taking him by surprise and knocking him out onto the balcony where he tipped over the railing and fell without a word. Elden stared around in confusion for a moment before looking down at Dorian.

“You ok?” Elden asked but before Dorian could respond he collapsed.

“Elden!” Dorian scrambled forward, barely managing to catch him. “You idiot, what were you thinking?” he demanded, quickly checking him over for any injuries. He couldn’t find any.

“Sorry,” Elden said. “You can have the next assassin.” “I was doing just fine,” Dorian snapped, angry and frantic and terrified as he finally realized what was happening. His hands were shaking so he gripped Elden more tightly, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“Can we pick up this argument later?” Elden asked. He was so very pale. “I don’t feel very good.”

“Elden,” Dorian said. He could feel his blood freezing in his veins. There was a sick certainty weighing in the pit of his stomach that said nothing would ever be fine again. “I think you were poisoned.”

“That explains a lot,” Elden said much too casually, even managing to smile a little, although it was as bit more of a grimace.

“How can you be so calm?” Dorian snapped. Anger was easier. Maybe that was why Elden was doing this. Of course even now he was still trying to comfort Dorian.

“I’m sorry,” Elden said, damn him. “I never wanted to worry you.”

“Stop, don’t you dare apologize,” Dorian said desperately. His vision was blurred and he didn’t even realize he was crying until Elden reached up to brush a tear away. He felt crushed under an awful weight and he knew he could not lose Elden. He just couldn’t.

Suddenly there were Inquisition soldiers there. Dorian was in a daze as they pulled him away from Elden, to make room. He was vaguely aware that he told someone about the poison, but all he could do was stare on in horror with no idea what to do. He was utterly useless, just getting in the way, but all he wanted was to be close to Elden. Instead he backed away and dropped into a seat, his hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly to try to stop the shaking, to have something to hang onto. He felt like he was falling. All he could do was wait, barely registering what he was seeing as healers and soldiers came and went.

The next thing he knew, someone was touching his shoulder. He looked up in surprise to see Josephine there. Elden was laid out on the bed, almost like he was sleeping, and the healers were beginning to file out. For a moment Dorian feared the worst and he had to cover his mouth, a horrified sob threatening to escape.

“He’s fine,” Josephine said quickly. “The healers were able to make an antidote. The spy is dead, but more guards have been placed around the Inquisitor’s quarters just in case. I’m so sorry, this is all my fault. The wine must have been poisoned.”

She looked so pale and upset. There was no way Dorian could blame her, no matter how angry he wanted to be with someone, anyone. He didn’t quite trust his voice yet, though, so he reached up and patted her hand clumsily, his own still trembling.

Eventually Dorian was left alone with Elden. He went to sit beside him on the edge of the bed and took Elden’s hand, holding it tightly in both of his. Elden looked ashen and Dorian felt that horrible weight in his stomach, terrified that he could still lose him even now. It was disturbing seeing Elden like this. He was the Inquisitor, as powerful and unstoppable as he was kind and soft. Dorian had tried to prepare himself for the inevitable, knowing none of them were likely to get out of this alive, but he supposed he’d always assumed Elden would outlive him at least.

But that was only the case if the rest of them did their job watching his back. Dorian squeezed Elden’s hand as he cursed himself. How could he not see that Elden had been poisoned? He had been suffering the effects the entire time in the library. It had been slowly killing him this entire time and Dorian had laughed at him and assumed it was nothing serious.

“Hey.”

Dorian had been staring at Elden’s hand in his own and he looked up to see Elden watching him. He looked so tired but he did his best to smile at Dorian, squeezing his hand back weakly.

“Hey yourself,” Dorian said, rubbing quickly at his face, trying to compose himself. “How do you feel, amatus?”

“Like I’ve been poisoned,” Elden said with a feeble laugh.

Dorian tried to glare at him but couldn’t quite muster up the annoyance. He was just so relieved. He knew Elden was just trying to put him at ease but if he had the energy to joke, that had to be a good sign, right?

“I’m sure you’ve always wondered what it’s like, but let’s not do that again, hmm?” Dorian said. Two could play that game. Besides, he really didn’t want Elden to waste energy trying to comfort him.

“Oh don’t worry,” Elden said with another quiet laugh. “Once was definitely more than enough for me.”

“Good, now,” Dorian said reluctantly. “I should really let you get some sleep.”

“Wait,” Elden asked quickly, almost desperately. “Can you stay? For a little while at least?”

Dorian couldn’t help but smile, feeling so relieved. He didn’t want to leave his side either. Elden made room on the bed and Dorian slipped in beside him, wrapping his arms tightly around him, feeling Elden’s warmth. He was fever-hot but he was alive. He was alive. Elden held him just as close, burying his face in Dorian’s neck. Dorian doubted he would be getting much sleep tonight but he kissed Elden’s forehead, whispering words of comfort, determined to watch out for him while he slept. He couldn’t lose Elden. He wouldn’t. He just held him tightly, determined to never to led him go.