#Meat Market Haggling

[jimtypes]

[misswynters]

Market & Secrets – Chapter Three

Dragon Twins Series

Aegon Targaryen x Dayne!fem!reader x Aerion Targaryen

[synopsis: Aegon and you both head out to the market. While alone, you encounter a rude vendor. Later, you encounter aerion, at a bar and he’s drunk. A rare occurrence.

[warnings: drunken aerion, near kidnapping, stabbing, blood

[work count: 3.1k

[a/n: imagine harry gilby as daeron targaryen

[note | it would greatly appreciated if you would not only just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. thank you!

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You and Aegon continued to walk your way out of the Red Keep and onto the carriage that would take you to the market. He lend you his hand so you can easily maneuver your way into the carriage, your dress in hand to stop you from accidentally tripping.

The market is bustling with life, the air filled with the sounds of haggling merchants, laughing children, and the clinking of coins. You and Aegon walk hand in hand, exploring the vibrant stalls. The scents of freshly baked bread and roasted meats waft through the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of spices.

As you make your way through the market, you spot a familiar face. Daeron, Aegon's younger brother, stands by a fruit stall, examining a pomegranate. Aegon waves, and Daeron looks up, a smile spreading across his face.

"Brother!" Daeron calls, walking over to you both. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Aegon smiles, pulling you closer. "Daeron, this is my wife,___. She arrived while you were away." He said softly, looking towards you.

Daeron takes your hand, bowing slightly. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you."

You smile back, grateful for the warm welcome. "Hopefully it were good things that you’ve heard, nevertheless it’s wonderful to meet you too, Daeron."

As you exchange greetings, Daeron glances at Aegon and smirks. "Be aware of my older brother. He can be quite the handful."

You chuckle, but Aegon remains serious, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. Daeron seems to notice the tension and quickly bids his farewells. "I should get going. It was nice meeting you. Take care, both of you." he waved his hands, saying goodbye.

You watch as Daeron disappears into the crowd, then turn to Aegon, confused by his reaction. "Is everything okay?" you asked him looking towards his beautiful eyes.

Aegon forces a smile. "Everything's fine. I just remembered something I need to take care of. I'll be back soon." He softly kisses your forehead and leaves you standing in the middle of the market, your heart sinking at his abrupt departure.

Left alone, you decide to continue exploring the stalls, hoping to find something that might lift your spirits. You wander from vendor to vendor, admiring the colorful fabrics, intricate jewelry, and exotic trinkets. One item, in particular, catches your eye: a pin with red and black stones, reminiscent of the Targaryen House colors.

You reach out to pick it up, but the merchant swiftly yanks it from your hand. "Don't touch that," he snaps, glaring at you. "Do you have any idea how expensive this is? You probably can't even afford it."

Stunned by his rudeness, you stammer an apology. "I was just looking—"

He cuts you off, sneering. "Looking? People like you have no business even being here. Go on, leave."

Angry tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes as you turn away, humiliated. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the encounter. As you walk away from the stall, you spot Aegon returning, his face softening as he sees the distress on your face.

"What happened?" he asks, his voice full of concern. “Are you okay, my dear?”

You quickly wipe your eyes and force a smile. "It's nothing, just a rude merchant."

Aegon's expression darkens. "Show me which one."

Aegon’s eyes narrow at your explanation, his protective instincts flaring. “Show me which merchant.”

You hesitate, not wanting to cause a scene, but the determination in his eyes convinces you to lead him back to the stall. As you approach, the merchant is still there, smugly attending to another customer.

Aegon steps forward, his presence commanding attention. “You,” he calls out, his voice cold and authoritative. The merchant looks up, his expression shifting from disdain to fear as he recognizes the prince.

“Y-Your grace,” the merchant stammers, bowing deeply. “What can I do for you?”

Aegon gestures toward you. “This is my wife. They told me you weren’t being kind to them. Is that true?”

The merchant’s eyes widen in panic. “I-I didn’t know, Your grace. I meant no disrespect.”

Aegon steps closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You dared to insult them and treated them like they was beneath you. Do you know what happens to those who disrespect the royal family?”

The merchant’s face turns pale. “Please, Your grace, I beg for your mercy. It was a mistake.”

Aegon smirks, his tone turning sassy and mocking. “A mistake, you say? Then perhaps you should correct it.” He points to the ground in front of you. “Kneel and beg for her forgiveness. Kiss her feet and show them the respect she deserves.”

The crowd around you watches in stunned silence as the merchant drops to his knees, his face contorted in humiliation. He crawls forward and hesitantly places his lips on your feet, muttering apologies and pleading for your forgiveness.

Aegon watches with satisfaction, his arms crossed. “Louder,” he demands. “Let everyone hear how sorry you are.”

The merchant’s voice rises, trembling. “I’m deeply sorry, Your grace. Please forgive me.”

You look down at the groveling man, your initial shock giving way to a mix of pity and satisfaction. Aegon places a hand on your shoulder, his gaze softening as he turns to you. “Is that enough for you, my love?”

You nod, feeling a strange sense of empowerment but also embarrassment. “Yes, that’s enough.”

Aegon smiles, helping you step back. He then addresses the merchant one last time. “Remember this moment. If you ever show disrespect to my wife, i shall have your tongue cut off.”

The merchant nods frantically, still on his knees. “Yes, Your grace. I understand.”

Aegon takes your hand, leading you away from the crowd. As you walk, the whispers and murmurs of the onlookers follow you, but you feel a renewed sense of strength with Aegon by your side.

“Are you alright?” Aegon asks once you’re a distance away.

You nod, squeezing his hand. “Yes, I am. Thank you, Aegon.”

He smiles, kissing your hand. “No one will ever treat you like that again. I promise.”

You lean into him, grateful for his unwavering support. The day had taken an unexpected turn, but with Aegon, you felt ready to face anything.

With the incident behind you, Aegon squeezes your hand reassuringly. "Let's get away from this crowd," he suggests. "There's a garden near the palace that's always peaceful."

You nod, grateful for the chance to escape the bustling market and the prying eyes of the townsfolk. Hand in hand, you make your way to the tranquil garden, a hidden gem that Aegon often escapes to for solace. The path is lined with blooming flowers, and the scent of jasmine fills the air, calming your senses.

As you enter the garden, you feel the tension of the market incident melt away. Aegon leads you to a secluded bench beneath a willow tree, its branches creating a natural canopy. The gentle rustling of leaves and the soft chirping of birds create a serene atmosphere.

"Much better, isn't it?" Aegon asks, sitting down and pulling you close.

You smile, leaning against him. "Much better."

For a while, you simply enjoy the peaceful surroundings, letting the calmness of the garden wash over you. Aegon strokes your hair gently, his touch soothing.

"Thank you for standing up for me," you say softly.

Aegon looks into your eyes, his expression tender. "I will always stand up for you. You're my wife, and I love you. No one has the right to treat you with anything less than the utmost respect."

His words warm your heart, and you lean in to kiss him. It's a gentle, affectionate kiss, full of gratitude and love. When you pull back, Aegon smiles, his eyes twinkling.

"Let's stay here for a while," he suggests. "Just the two of us.”

You nod, content to spend the rest of the afternoon in this peaceful sanctuary with the man you love. As the day turns to evening, you and Aegon share stories, laughter, and quiet moments of connection, strengthening the bond between you.

Eventually, as the sun begins to set, casting a golden glow over the garden, you both decide it's time to return to the palace. Hand in hand, you make your way back, feeling closer than ever. The day's events have only served to deepen your love and commitment to each other, and you know that with Aegon by your side, you can face anything the future holds.

As you and Aegon leave the peaceful garden, he suggests stopping by a local tavern known for its delectable pastries. “They make the best honey cakes in the city,” he says with a smile, his eyes lighting up at the thought.

The tavern is bustling with activity, the warm, inviting smell of baked goods wafting through the air. You find a cozy corner table and order a selection of pastries. The atmosphere is lively, filled with the cheerful chatter of patrons and the clinking of glasses.

Just as you're about to take a bite of a delicious-looking honey cake, you hear a familiar voice. Turning, you spot Aerion with a group of his friends at a nearby table. He's laughing loudly, his cheeks flushed—a rare sight. It's clear he's had a bit too much to drink.

Aegon follows your gaze and frowns slightly. “I didn’t expect to see him here, especially in this state,” he mutters.

Aerion catches sight of you both and raises his glass in a tipsy salute. “Aegon! And… the his lovely wife! Join us!”

Aegon hesitates, then gives you a reassuring nod. “Let’s say hello. It wouldn’t hurt.”

You both make your way to Aerion’s table, where his friends greet you warmly. Aerion, clearly enjoying himself, pulls out a chair for you. “Sit, sit! Have a drink with us!”

Aegon shakes his head, smiling. “We’ve just come for some pastries, Aerion. But it looks like you’re having quite the time.”

Aerion chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just letting off some steam. You should try it, brother. It’s liberating.”

You share a glance with Aegon, both amused and a bit concerned. Aerion’s friends seem friendly enough, and they all raise their glasses to toast to the evening.

“We’ll just stay for a moment,” you say, taking a seat. As you sit, Aerion leans in closer, his voice low. “I saw you at the market earlier. Quite the scene you made with that merchant.”

Aegon’s expression darkens slightly, but he keeps his tone light. “He deserved it. No one disrespects my wife, the queen.”

Aerion nods, his gaze lingering on you. “Good. They deserves nothing less than respect and admiration.”

The conversation turns lighter as Aerion’s friends share stories and jokes. Despite his tipsy state, Aerion seems genuinely happy, and it’s clear his friends care for him. After a while, Aegon stands, signaling it’s time to leave.

“We should get going,” he says, helping you to your feet. “It’s been a long day.” Aerion stands as well, swaying slightly. “Take care of ___, Aegon. They sure are a rare gem.”

Aegon nods, his expression serious. “Always.”

You bid farewell to Aerion and his friends, and as you step outside, the cool evening air is a welcome change. Aegon wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

“That was interesting,” you say, looking up at him.

Aegon chuckles softly. “Indeed. Let’s head back to the palace. We’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

With the pastries in hand and the warmth of Aegon’s embrace, you make your way back to the palace, feeling a sense of contentment. The day's events have been unexpected, but they've only brought you and Aegon closer.

   ࣪⠀⊹  ˑ  ִ  ֗   ִ  ۫  

Back at the palace, you and Aegon walk through the grand corridors, the echoes of your footsteps the only sound breaking the tranquil silence of the evening. Once inside your chambers, Aegon closes the door behind you and sets the pastries on a nearby table.

“Today was… eventful,” Aegon says with a sigh, leaning against the door.

You nod, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “It was. But I’m glad we spent it together.”

Aegon smiles warmly at you and steps closer, taking your hands in his. “I am too. I’m sorry for how things have been between us lately. I don’t want there to be any distance or misunderstandings between us.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and concern there. “Neither do I, Aegon. I want us to trust each other.” He sits down beside you, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. “About Aerion… I know you had your moment with him, but can’t you just forget about him.”

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Of course, what kind of wife would i be if i don’t. You are my husband.”

Aegon’s eyes soften, and he leans in to kiss your forehead. “Thank you. We’ll take it one day at a time.”

After a moment of comfortable silence, you both decide to change into more comfortable clothes. Aegon heads to his chambers to give you some privacy. As you change, your mind drifts back to the day’s events, the confrontation with the merchant, Aerion’s tipsy state, and Aegon’s protectiveness. Just as you finish changing, there’s a soft knock on your door. It’s one of your handmaidens, bringing in a tray with a pot of tea and two cups.

“I thought your graces might like some tea before bed,” she says with a smile. “Thank you,” you reply, appreciating her thoughtfulness.

As you pour the tea, Aegon returns, looking more relaxed in his nightclothes. He joins you at the small table, and you both enjoy the calming tea in comfortable silence.

Aegon, however, tries to bring some normalcy back by offering you one of the treats he picked up from the pastry shop. The sweet, flaky pastry is a small comfort, but it does little to ease the turmoil in your heart. As you both settle into the room, Aegon takes a bite of the treat, savoring its flavor while you sit silently by the hearth. The room is dimly lit by the flickering flames, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Despite the cozy atmosphere, the weight of the day's events presses heavily on both of you.

Aegon's moment of quiet is interrupted by the urgent knock of a messenger at the door. “Your grace, you have been summoned by the small council due to an urgent matter.”

"Of course," Aegon replies, brushing crumbs from his fingers. He glances at you with an apologetic look. "I have to go. It's important."

You nod, understanding the gravity of his duties. As he makes his way to the door, he pauses, turning back to you.

"I'll be back as soon as I can. If i don’t come back then see you on the morrow" Aegon leaves, and you're left alone in the room. The silence feels heavier now that he's gone. You try to focus on a book by the hearth, but your thoughts keep drifting to the unsettling encounter at the market and the unique revelation about Aerion.

Just as you begin to lose yourself in the book, the door to your chambers creaks open. The figure that enters is not Aegon but a Kingsguard, his face stern and unreadable. You look up in surprise, your heart skipping a beat.

Before you can react, the Kingsguard lunges forward, wrapping an arm around your waist while the other hand clamps tightly over your mouth. Panic surges through you as you struggle against the iron grip. The book falls from your hands, hitting the floor with a dull thud. Your muffled cries are silenced by the guard's firm hold.

"Don't make a sound, you whore" the guard hisses in a low, menacing voice. Fear grips you tightly, your mind racing. Who could have sent him? Why is he doing this? The questions swirl together in a haze of terror. Your mind races, trying to make sense of the situation, but the guard's actions leave no room for hesitation. His grip is unyielding, his intention clear: to subdue you. Desperation surges through you. You thrash against him, but he's too strong.

With a sudden, forceful shove, he sends you sprawling onto the cold, stone floor. Your breath escapes in a sharp gasp as you try to scramble away, but he's already moving towards you with lethal intent. He draws his sword, its blade glinting dangerously in the dim light. Panic overtakes you, and you fumble to your feet. You reach for your dagger-a weapon you've always carried for protection. Your hands are trembling, and tears blur your vision as you face the dire threat.

The guard advances, his eyes cold and merciless. He raises his sword high, aiming directly at you. In a last-ditch effort to defend yourself, you take a deep breath standing up to hurl your dagger with all the force you can muster. The blade slices through the air, finding its mark in the guard's eye. He lets out a guttural scream as the blood gushed out of his face, collapsing to the floor with a sickening thud. You were now covered in his blood, as you look down at what you just had.

The room is filled with the echoes of his final, desperate cries. You stare at the fallen guard, your hands trembling uncontrollably. Tears stream down your face as the reality of what you've just done sinks in. The guard, now motionless, lies on the floor with your dagger embedded in his eye—a stark reminder of the deadly force you were forced to unleash.

The door bursts open, and Aegon rushes in, his face a mask of horror and relief as he takes in the scene. His gaze shifts from the dead guard to you, and his expression softens with concern.

"Are you hurt?" he asks, rushing to your side.

You can't answer immediately, the shock and fear overwhelming you. Aegon helps you walk towards him, his hands gentle despite the urgency of the situation. You look around, seeing the blood and the fallen guard, continuing to shake uncontrollably. You can’t believe what you just had done, you’ve taken someone else’s life. Blood on your hands.

Aegon pulls you into a tight embrace, his own breaths coming fast. "You're safe now," he whispers, though his voice trembles slightly. "It's over. You're safe." He helps you away from the grisly scene, his arms wrapped protectively around you. The reality of the situation is harsh and raw, but Aegon's presence provides some solace amidst the chaos. The fear and adrenaline start to ebb, replaced by an overwhelming sadness at what you've been forced to do.

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[writing-zelda-brainrots]

The Apothecary’s Travel Guide Chapter 1

Quickly, before we begin, I want to set some things straight about this little fic series.

This fic will use Fem!Reader in both pronouns and body descriptions. I usually stick to gender neutral stuff, but this fic just works better with a female main character in mind (or at least I think so).

While I won’t be going into actual nsfw stuff (maybe in the future, I haven’t decided), this fic will still contain sexual themes and scenarios. This fic is meant for older teens and up. I don’t write with a young audience in mind, both for this fic and in general.

For those of you who are not familiar with The Apothecary Diaries (wtf are you doing here, go watch it), the series takes place in a fictional version of Imperial China. You don’t absolutely need to watch it to read this fic, but you will have a better understanding of things if you have (also, it’s just a really good show, very well written with one of the best female protags I’ve ever seen).

Also, this fic starts before Sunset, so the whole “Twilight is Wolfie” and “Hyrule can heal” things are not known yet.

–

It felt a little strange to be back in the busy streets of the pleasure district after spending months in the rear palace. But it was the good kind of strange. The smell of grilled meat skewers that you missed so much, the paper lanterns hanging overhead, people haggling for better prices in the street side shops, playing games on the side of the road, or drinking tea in teahouses. And of course, beautiful women calling men over to offer ‘special services’ in the many brothels.

It’s a sight you’re all too familiar with. Having grown up here, raised by the women of the famous Verdigris House, these things did not phase you. One would think that working in the palace would be quite the change of pace, but if there’s one thing that you’ve learned over the past however many months, it is that the palace and brothels aren’t all that different. A beautiful caged garden full of flowers for the emperor to enjoy looking upon.

In truth, if you had the choice, you would not want to have anything to do with the imperial palace, but given your situation, what could you do? You certainly didn’t ask to be kidnapped and sold off to the palace back then and you didn’t ask to be promoted to lady in waiting to one of the four highest ranking concubines. You were doing just fine as an apothecary back in the pleasure district, thank you very much.

You had originally attempted to stay low, worked as a simple, low ranking servant until your contract expired and then head home. You hid any signs of value that could get you promoted; you hid your ability to read and write, as well as hid your ‘true beauty’ so you wouldn’t become a concubine (even if a servant could only ever become a low ranking concubine). Any extra money you would have earned  from those promotions would just be swiped by your kidnappers, anyway. At least you still got paid for your regular work.

Had things originally gone according to your plan, you would have worked hard and been released within three years. However, now that goal post has been moved quite a bit.

But you shouldn't be thinking about work right now; it was your day off, after all. You were back home (after managing to haggle your way into them letting you leave the palace) and that’s all that matters right now.

I should get some radishes and chicken for soup tonight. You thought as you walked down the street of the makeshift market. You hoped that your father had been eating well. He was never all that good at feeding himself. If he was starving for a few days, the old lady from the Verdigris House would force something down his throat.

Speaking of the Verdigris House, you should probably head there later. Both to say hello to your ‘big sisters,’ but also so you could take a bath there. They’d likely want some medicine, too, now that you thought about it. The last time you delivered medicine there was the day you got kidnapped.

Heh. Even on my day off I’m running errands.

With your little morning shopping excursion done, you stuffed the ingredients into the basket you carried on your back and started heading to that familiar little shack you affectionately called home. Dad should be in the fields tending to the plants right now. Honestly, he was getting too old for that trek, especially with his busted knee, but you couldn’t deny that he loved that little garden he’s cultivated over the years. Not like you were any different when it comes to your passion for medicinal herbs. As your master, he taught you everything you know about medicine; what herbs work in which situations, what to use and what to avoid, how to make medicine, what plants, mushrooms and animals were poisonous and which weren’t, etc. He was a very learned man, having studied both eastern and western medicine. With a few more years of teaching, you might be as good as him, or you hoped so, at least.

Finally you reached the calm little neighbourhood you grew up in. It was on the very outskirts of the city, not even protected by the tall stone brick walls. Looking at the small sizes of the houses, barely larger than your average shack, told people that this was where the poor lived. It wasn’t much, but it was home. Truth be told, your father was an excellent medical expert, even having worked in the palace before from what you’ve heard, but for all his skill and knowledge, he had terrible luck, which is why he ended up living here instead of somewhere more fitting for his stature.

But when you got to your little childhood home, you were met with a worrying sight. A woman you didn’t recognise, worry and uncertainty written on her face, knocking on the front door of your home. That’s strange, did she need medicine? You didn’t recognise her servant uniform, but she seemed to be from one of the inns in the area.

You called out, catching her attention immediately. “Are you looking for the apothecary? He’s currently out, but I can leave him a message.”

“Please help, it’s a medical emergency! Someone’s been poisoned!”

Your face immediately turned serious as you dropped your belongings before running inside the shack to retrieve an emergency med kit. “Lead me to them.”

--

People had gathered around the doorway of the inn, clearly all in a panic, but not sure on what to do.

“I brought the apothecary. Please step out of the way.” The two of you moved past the seemingly small army of staff and patrons.

What you saw seemed to match what the woman had told you before. A man lying on the bed, restless, breathing erratically, hands clenching at the fabric of his clothes right over his heart. Immediately you entered your ‘work mode,’ practically diving next to the man. First, a physical check up.

You pried open the man’s eyes, looking into them; you checked his pulse and stuck a finger into his mouth. Judging from the spittle running down his chin and trace amounts of sick on the bed sheets and his blue scarf, it’s safe to say that he had vomited. Still, you pressed down on his solar plexus to induce more of it. It would help expel whatever caused this reaction, but it would also dehydrate him. There was a hrrk, and spit came pouring out of his mouth, which you wiped away with the bedsheets you had gripped.

Suddenly, a new man with brown hair and eyes came running through the door with what seemed to be a waterskin in his hands.

He was just about to offer the water to the man you were tending to, but you shouted at him: “Don’t let him drink that! Charcoal- we need charcoal!” The startled man dropped the item onto the floor, but recovered just as quickly, running off once again to retrieve the required item.

You repeated this process several times on the victim; making him vomit, wiping the bile away ad nauseum until nothing but stomach acid came out. The man was able to breathe much easier now, no longer hyperventilating. Thankfully, at your request, the charcoal had arrived just in time, which you quickly ground up with your mortar and pestle.

“This’ll be rough on his throat, but it’ll flush the toxins out of his body.” You spoke as you poured the fine powder into his mouth. Some of the men, who you assumed to be the patient’s associates, had gathered around the two of you, clearly worried.

“Wa… Water. Please…” Those were the first words you heard him speak, weak, but nonetheless a sign that he was recovering.

“Not yet. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to endure this a little bit longer.”

Though unhappy, he accepted and resigned himself to his scratchy and dry throat for the time being. Finally you were able to remove yourself from the bedside, letting the other men move the patient while the inn’s servant ladies removed the soiled linens.

First damn thing in the morning and I already have to deal with an emergency. I only just got back. You grumbled in your mind as you looked at your filthy hand. Ugh. I really need a bath. You sighed both from relief and exhaustion.

“You doin’ okay, Captain?” One of the taller men with brown hair asked while holding him up so he could stand.

The patient - now identified as ‘Captain’ - took a breath. “Much better.” He then turned his attention towards you. “Thank you. I was certain that I was a goner.”

“I am simply doing my job. There is no need to thank me.” Utilising some water in a pitcher that one of the servants offered, you wiped your hands with a damp cloth.

You then took out a wooden slip, wrote just a couple characters on it and handed it over to the servant woman who you first encountered. “Deliver this to doctor Luomen and bring him here. He should be by the south wall.”

With that, the servant gave you and everyone else in the room a small bow before leaving.

The man with a blue hat turned his attention to the patient, who had once again been laid down onto the cleaned up bed. “Now I know that stuff took you out; you didn’t even try to flirt with your “guardian angel”.”

“So that’s your impression of me?” The sarcasm in his voice was evident. “Glad to know that it took me almost kicking the bucket to change your opinion.”

--

Within about half an hour, the servant had returned, your father in tow. It took longer than you had hoped, but given your father’s age and condition, it wasn’t all that surprising.

He took a good look at the patient and asked some questions.

“I suppose you did an adequate job here.” He gave you his trademark gentle smile after he was done with his examination.

“‘Adequate’?” You ask, annoyed.

A man who you assumed to be the owner of the inn came into the room. “Thank you, doctor Luomen. You are the best medical expert one could ask for.”

“Don’t thank me. My daughter did all the hard work.”

“Tell me, how much do we owe you? Name your price.”

“There’s really no need-”

You nudge your father’s side with your elbow. “Can you pay rent this month?”

“Ah… Well, in that case, I’ll take the usual fee.”

This was one of his habits; undercharging for his work, or even failing to charge at all, much to your distress. You understood the desire not to take money from people who were already struggling to get by, but this was not the case.

A tall blond man in heavy armour came up to you, holding out a small-ish sack. “Please, allow us to reimburse you as well. We owe you a lot.” Seeing no reason not to, you accepted the item.

With that, your father and the inn’s owner head into another room to discuss payment, leaving you to gather up your tools.

From the corner of your eyes, you noticed a few of the men fidgeting nervously or giving each other glances. They obviously wanted to say something. You didn’t know why they were hesitating. Sure, you might have sharp, mean-looking eyes and you didn’t smile all the time, but there’s no reason for these numerous grown men to act like this around you.

“Can I help you?” You broke the ice. No point in delaying this.

The one who you assumed to be the leader cleared his throat. “Actually, we’d like you to answer some questions we have. We’re travellers from afar, you see, and we don’t know much about this place or nation.”

They came all this way here and they don’t know the first thing about where they are? “You’re in the country of Li, specifically in the capital city of both the nation and the Central Province. I’m not going to judge how you choose to spend your time, but if you wanted to go sightseeing, I wouldn’t exactly recommend coming to the pleasure district first.” You raised an eyebrow. Just who were these people?

You saw that a few of the mens’ faces had turned bright red when they realised where they were. “Ha! Told you that this is where we ended up.”

“Are you implying that you frequent these kinds of places, Captain?” It sure seemed like these two had a penchant for arguing. Even during the time while you were waiting for your father to arrive, you noticed that they kept butting heads.

“Enough, you two.” The oldest shot them a quick glare. “Either way, it’s good we left Wind with Four back at the city outskirts. Both because of the inappropriate nature of this place- no offence…”

You shrugged. “None taken.”

“... But so that they wouldn’t have to see you get in trouble like this.”

“You are the apothecary here, right? If so, then you should be familiar with people who have gotten injuries.” You nodded. “Have you heard anything about encounters with any strong monsters, particularly those with black blood?”

Alright, now you were really confused. Monsters? Black blood? Was this some kind of way of informing you of a new disease spreading among the troops of enemy nations? But if so, why not tell this to an army physician instead of a random apothecary?

“Can’t say that I have.” You spoke up after having given it some thought. “Though I have to admit that I have been working in the inner court for the past few months, so I’m not caught up on the goings on outside the palace walls. But if you are telling the truth, I’m certain I would have heard rumours.” Thinking back, Xiaolan - a girl you had grown a friendship with when you were a simple servant at the palace - sure loved her gossip, and if there was one thing she loved more, it was sharing that gossip with you over tasty snacks and food.

“Thank you anyways.”

While this conversation didn’t seem like it yielded much, it did get your gears turning. It was time to do some espionage- or rather, some investigating. Something you’ve gotten pretty good at lately, if you said so yourself.

“Please wait here while I get you some medicine.” With a quick bow you left the room. In truth you had already prepared the medicine while waiting for your father to arrive, but this was still a convenient excuse.

As quietly as you could you hid yourself behind the sliding door and pressed your ear against it. Sure enough, once the men in the room believed you to be gone, they started talking. Words like “monsters,” “eras,” “shadow” and others got thrown around as if it was common knowledge, yet it only served to confuse - and intrigue - you further. One thing was certain; these were not your regular, run-of-the-mill travellers.

Your earlier talk also gave you an opportunity to scrutinise their appearances. Given their unfamiliar clothes and armour, plus features like light coloured hair and eyes, and their utter lack of knowledge of where they even were, you assumed them to be from a distant land, the west, most likely. But that was before you noticed one curious detail that they all shared; pointed ears.

This one thing had you calling things into question. Sure, the world was a large place, but in all your years of studying medicine and the human body, you’ve never heard of any group of peoples with such a distinctive feature.

But now came the question of what to do. What were you going to do about this suspicious group? Should you report them in case they were here to cause trouble? To be honest, you didn’t want to get involved. No point in sticking your neck out for these strangers and possibly risk getting accused of treason. You’ve done your job, you healed them, and you’re about to give them their medicine and leave. There’s no need to let them occupy your mind anymore. You’d steer clear of them from now on. Yeah, that sounded good.

Finally, you pretended to have returned from your ‘excursion’ and knocked on the door. Given the sudden silence from the room, it was safe to assure that whatever they were talking about was not for others to hear.

Walking up to the Captain still in bed, you handed over a small paper bag. “Please take this for the next few days. It’ll ease your stomach and help with getting rid of any lingering toxins. I would recommend drinking it as tea.”

The one who you had identified as ‘Legend’ from when you were listening in groaned. “Ugh. This whole thing’s been a wash. You guys ready to head back to camp?”

A unanimous ‘yes’ was heard.

--

Ironically enough, you could not get those men out of your head. Was your intuition trying to tell you that there was something wrong with them? Or were you simply curious? They were certainly the most interesting people you’ve met in some time.

They had already left the inn and you had headed in a different direction. You did finally manage to get that warm bath you were looking forward to. And getting to speak to your ‘big sisters’ at the Verdigris House was nice. But still your mind was occupied with something else. Damn it, this was supposed to be your day off, but you haven’t been able to relax completely!

You kicked a small rock in front of you in frustration. Hopefully having dinner with your dad would help alleviate your problem.

Suddenly you felt an all too familiar feeling of being pulled backwards.

Well, this wouldn’t be your first kidnapping.

--

And Wars will have to suffer through that dry, ashy throat for the remainder of this fic- lol jk.

A.N Fun fact: did you know that other than Twilight (who has lived among humans for a long time), technically, Legend is the one who has interacted with humans the most? The people of Koholint Island had short, round ears, as did the people of Holodrum (Oracle of Seasons), Labrynna (Oracle of Ages) and Hytopia (Tri Force Heroes).

[thecurlyginger]

Can't stop thinking about @an-excellent-choice's post about imperfect partner Gale because it's a facet of long-term relationships that rarely gets explored. So I wrote the following study on respect and pettiness...

Rapt Attention

SWF, ~1250 words

Leaning toward the vanity, Tav put on her earrings, using the mirror to then check her reflection as she readied for the work day. A simple life as a housewife never appealed to her, with or without her husband's steady income and their shared rewards as the Heroes of Baldur's Gate, so after settling in Waterdeep, she had accepted a retail job in a wine shop. It was simple work with little risk but high reward when a patron returned to thank her profusely for her recommendation or when she could bring an employee-discounted bottle home to share with Gale.

"I'll be preparing for tomorrow night's tasting event," she told him as she straightened her dress. "We've reserved every table!"

"Hmm, that's lovely," Gale responded distantly, and through the looking glass, Tav saw him transfixed by the lesson plan in his hands.

She tried not to take offense by his distraction, reminded that he took his own job very seriously, and strode over to the bed where he still lounged. "See you tonight?"

"Of course," he said, at last lowering the book to press a kiss to her cheek. "I love you."

"Love you too."

It had been a long day on her feet, her boss barely having done their share of the prep, and leaving Tav to procure the pairing fruits and cheeses, let alone enough boards and plates to serve them on. Her arms were sore from carrying heavy baskets of goods across the busy roads, and her calves ached from stretching to the highest shelves to pull bottles from the reserve. There was little she looked forward to more than a warm bath and putting her feet up, and she climbed the steps into their home with that prospect at the forefront of her mind.

"Hello, dearest," Gale greeted from the kitchen as she entered, the rich aroma of stewed meat wafting her way.

Tav joined him, relaxing into his open arms. "Hi." The word was more of a sigh, her tension already melting away. "Mind if I bathe before we eat?"

"Of course! Take all the time you need."

When she did rejoin him for dinner, he excitedly told her all about his day at the Academy, and she welcomed the break for her own vocal chords after hours of haggling at the market. His daily recounts were so thorough that she knew almost all of his students' names and demeanors and could follow along effortlessly, enamored by his newfound purpose in life.

"Oh! I nearly forgot! After you left, Tara paid me a visit to invite us to my mother's tomorrow night. I hope you don't mind I accepted on your behalf."

Her eyes narrowed minutely, and she chewed her bite slowly as she realized that Gale truly hadn't been listening to her at all earlier when she detailed the work event.

"We can both change after work and walk, if that's all right with you."

He appeared his usual, jovial self, and, marred by insult, Tav contemplated her response.

"Sounds like a plan," she said, putting on a smile.

The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, but if Gale could not hold the same regard for her job that she held for his, then he deserved to be humbled.

--

After returning from the Academy, Gale changed from his teaching robes, thankful to don something lighter for a walk in the summer evening. Dinners with Morena and Tara were somewhat regular affairs but still a lovely excuse to dress in finer clothes with Tav, and he pulled an intricately patterned shirt, curious how his wife would match him.

He waited in the study, using the time before her return home to grade papers in the light of the late afternoon sun. Distant bells rang, signaling the hour, and Gale lifted his head from his desk, suddenly concerned by Tav's absence. Had she misheard him and gone straight to his mother's home? Frowning, he stood and paced, deliberating what to do.

At last, Gale left a note in the entryway in case she had been running late to say he went ahead and to join at her convenience before walking alone. Morena greeted him warmly, though informed him that Tav was not there. Try as he might to settle, assuring himself that all was well, he could not shake the anxious thought that something was amiss. With his deepest apologies, Gale left to try and track Tav down, heading straight to the wine shop.

Usually closed by this time, as he approached, he found the entryway bustling with patrons awaiting service. What was...?

Right.

Though immediate relief rushed over him at the sight of Tav through the window, tray full of glasses as she traversed the crowd, it was followed by the frustration that she had neglected to decline dinner. When she finally met his eye, her eyebrow raised, lips pursing together, she quickly passed out the wine before joining him outside.

"I was worried about you," Gale said. "Thank the gods you're all right! I'm so relieved but only wish you had better communicated your plans to me; Mother was quite worried when I left in search of you."

Tav scoffed. "You are mistaken. You paid my event no attention and then double-booked me. I am simply attending my first obligation."

"You... purposefully..." Anger boiled in his stomach. "Are you punishing me?"

"Yes! I listen to every word of your day, but mine takes no precedence because you do not value it equitably. If you wouldn't respect me, then I figured you wouldn't miss me tonight. Now, if you'll excuse me--"

"I won't just excuse you." Gale took a step forward, reaching for her arm. They were far from finished discussing this.

"Too. Bad." She pulled back and returned to work, leaving him fuming in the street.

By the time Tav returned home, Gale had eaten with Morena, though he'd been ill company. It was impossible not to think on his wife's words and how disrespectful he had been, however spiteful she sought to be in return. When the lock clicked and she entered, Gale looked up from his place at the dining table where a small plate of cakes and tea were presented in the offchance Tav hadn't eaten. Nodding solemnly, she took the seat beside him, holding out her palm. Gale placed his hand in hers, squeezing it softly.

"I'm sorry," they said at the same time, then each laughing awkwardly.

"No, you first," Gale insisted. "And I promise, I'm all ears."

"I shouldn't have stood you up. I was upset to be sure, but after you left, I realized it was cruel to not tell you my whereabouts and cause worry."

He took in her earnest eyes, then the exhaustion that had claimed her after working for over half the day and felt the true weight of the disservice he had paid her.

"I--" His throat was tight, the desire to look away in shame almost impossible to overcome, but he owed her sincerity and would be forced to reap what he sowed. "I admit I should have given you my rapt attention when you spoke of your work. I did not inherently ignore you out of superiority but can understand how you interpreted it that way. Teaching should not take priority over you or our time together, and yet I've allowed it to do so. I will strive to do better, my love, if you will allow me. Please... tell me about your day."

And he listened intently to her forever more.

[sufrimientilia]

The Exchange

collared | branded | chipped @augusnippets Day 19

cw: living weapon, captivity, conditioned, noncon drugging (mentioned), see above

They discussed the matter over a generous pour of Macallan 50.

He stood in the middle of the room, naked all the way down to his toes, and somehow it was like he was the most dangerous person there. Flanked on all sides by armed guards, heavy restraints dangling from wrists to ankles, the uncomfortable bite guard clamped tight around his jaw. Like they couldn’t be too cautious, even with the implant and the collar and the drugs. The conditioning and the training and the torture.

“That’s what I find tricky about these… things.” Amber swirled around and around, smooth against heavy glass. “A certain level of autonomy is necessary for what they do. Some aggression and unpredictability is to be expected. Predatory instincts, if you will.”

“I’m not so sure,” the buyer reasoned back, eyeing every piece of him with close intensity. A slab of meat to be haggled over. “I can buy— what, a dozen or so of those dolls for the same price? And you’re telling me this one doesn’t even behave?”

“Our assets are designed to execute complex orders. They aren’t puppets. What you’re looking for is something designed for high-stakes operations—assassinations, sabotage, blackmail. There needs to be a fine balance when it comes to controlling a rabid animal like this. Sometimes it's best left to its own devices.” The handler gave him a keen stare. Every muscle carefully in place, eyes straight ahead. “Messy beings can be capable of such messy, messy things.”

A long moment of silence. It was nothing new, being on display like this. The buyer eyed everything but his face.

"Think of it like this. You’re investing in a unique tool. There will be an adjustment period, and if you push him too hard, too fast, you might find yourself dealing with a situation you can't control. But we can guide you through it. We’ve designed a maintenance regimen that involves regular injections and compliance protocols to keep him in line, and of course there’s the shock collar for regular at-home use.”

“And what about the implant you mentioned? Is it some sort of tracking chip?”

“Yes, in a way. The chip is our method of… quality assurance. A way to guarantee our assets stay in line.” The handler gave one big, buttery smile. The hard sell. “Nothing like it on the market, you know. We can program him to respond to certain trigger words or phrases, make him attack or shut down at the snap of a finger. We can make him dependent and loyal only to you.”

The buyer studied his face and only found more reasons to be skeptical. “How?”

“I’m afraid I’d only be able to demonstrate.”

He wasn’t sure how much he was worth in the end. Enough to make the handler quite pleased. His new handler chose some gaudy, twisted up symbol to brand him with, and he didn’t twitch or scream when white-hot metal boiled another scar into his skin. The collar made it hard enough to breathe, and this was just the first step to ownership after the initial exchange. It wasn't like it'd get better from here.

[ranchracoon]

Feathers and Blood (Mother Miranda x Fem MC)

The roar of the market is deafening, people haggling the price of spices and garments while blissfully unaware of the secrets lurking further in. In the furthest part of the market is a stand set up at the back of a wagon, the table is lined with various exotic items and dried meats hang from the doors of the wagon. The man behind the table is short and stocky, his belly protrudes from underneath his shirt, the buttons strain to contain the rest. He hands a customer a green bottle with a green cross in the corner and DISINFECTANT in bold, black letters across the top. He takes the money from the customer then turns his attention to an approaching woman, he combs his hand through his hair that is oily enough to power a car.

The approaching woman is tall, taller than any average woman with platinum blonde hair and piercing gray eyes. She parts the crowd with her presence, people give her a wide berth and dare not glance her way. A wolf stalking through a herd of sheep, each one hoping another is chosen as this day's sacrifice. The man flashes her a friendly smile despite her cold, calculating stare unwavering as she halts on the other side of the table. She pretends to examine the artifacts in front of her, picking up an object to look it over before tossing it aside back onto the table.

"Miranda, pleasure to see you as always. What-"

The woman silences him with a wave of her hand but she still doesn't speak, instead she glares until she sees him swallow nervously. She cocks her head to one side, wrapping one arm around her torso and resting her other on top of it. A dark aura surrounds her, the other merchants bring their dull roars to a whisper, sparing glances at the poor man about to face his doom. They've seen her before, whispers of the things she has done, will do, and has yet to do navigate this market quicker than fire during dry season.

"Duke. Do you know why I am here?" The woman asks.

"Because I have all of your needs of course! Have I ever failed to deliver? Everything you want, everything you need, I can get. What is it today?"

"You could not be more incorrect, I am here in regards to my previous purchase. You said, and I quote, 'the most potent substance out there. Untraceable, undetectable, and can bring down a fully grown, bull elephant with a single drop.' Does that sound familiar?"

"Ah yes, the Tetrodotoxin I remember."

"Quiet." She orders, "that pathetic excuse for a toxin could not kill a newborn babe. I intended to kill you when I arrived but I concluded I would not be who I am if I was not fair; so, I'll give you a chance to remedy your mistake, then decide if I'll still kill you or not."

The Duke's eyes flash for a split second with fear, he knows she is true to her word. His eyes dart to the other stands but none of the sellers look his way, this is business as normal. There's a reason this street is nick-named the 'red-bricked road'; there was a time when the stone was pristine, but now sports a dingy, dulled, red from the copious amount of death it has witnessed. He swallows again and tries to think quickly, he's not one to give up money so easily so option 2 it is. He leans over and picks up the green bottle of medicine, sporting it in the air and flashing his best smile.

"This here is the world's most powerful disinfectant. I know someone like you could benefit from it, no matter the ailment this will fix it. It's not just a disinfectant but a cure-all for anything that ails you. The entire case, worth millions can be yours."

A bead of sweat runs down the side of his face, Miranda doesn't bother to look at the bottle but keeps her gaze on him. Normally he's very good at reading people, seeing the wheels turn in their head but not her, she has as much readability as a statue. Then his worse possible fears come true, the tiniest sound, a groan from inside the wagon catches her attention. Any human wouldn't have noticed over the murmuring of the crowds, but Miranda caught it instantly. Her attention targets the wagon, she straightens her head and tilts her chin up toward it, listening, and waiting. Duke stands there, unmoving and hoping she chalks it up to a simple creak, nothing more.

"What's inside the wagon?" She asks.

"What? Nothing. Overstock, my laundry of course, maybe a few mice here and there. Some inventory, trinkets, nothing that would interest you and certainly nothing as valuable as this here-"

"You love to ramble when you lie. Now show me." She interrupts.

He sighs defeatedly, setting the bottle back underneath the table before twisting to the back of the wagon and pulling the curtain back. The sunlight illuminates the interior to expose a woman with her ankles and wrists bound to the flooring. Miranda approaches the back and leans in to get a closer look; she must blink a few times to adjust to how dark it is for the woman blends in with dark flooring and walls. Her only clothing is a torn crop top, and pants with a tube going from her side into a familiar looking green bottle. Miranda scrunches her nose at the smell, it burns with every inhale and she brings her hand to her nose to block it out.

"Release her." Miranda orders.

"With all due respect Miranda, she-"

The Duke didn't finish his sentence before the air around him dissolves, he chokes and coughs to try and breath but there's nothing there. His face turns purple before he drops to his knees and claws at the collar of his shirt, then in a split second the air returns and he sucks in a loud, gasping breath. After a moment of struggling he stands, reaches into his pocket to withdraw a key before heaving himself into the wagon. His weight causes the wagon to lean back and the woman flinches from the sudden intrusion, he pants and grunts as he unlocks the chains then shuffles back out.

"Come out here." Miranda orders.

The woman stretches her legs, flexes her fingers and follows the order, she keeps her head down until she touches the edge of the wagon. She waves her hand blindly, looking for stability before settling on the wall to support her as she swings one leg after the other. Miranda watches the woman intently, seeing her clearly now in the sunlight. She no longer has the tubing in her side but there's a very obvious scar where the tube was but no open wound. Her hair is black and matted, it shields her face from further view so Miranda reaches over to move a large mat aside. The woman looks up and Miranda pauses, her eyes are cat-like yellow in their entirety with two large, black irises. The longer she stands in the sun, the thinner they become until they're thin slits, splitting the yellow down the center. She's an inch or two shorter than Miranda, her skin is darker than any human with speckles of white around her fingers and eyes, she's extremely malnourished but has visible abs and muscles on her arms.

"What's your name?" Miranda asks.

"Inanna." The woman answers.

Duke takes a cloth from his pocket to wipe the sweat away from his forehead when the woman speaks. Miranda's eyebrow cocks for a microsecond before falling to its original place, if the woman's eyes and skin weren't enough then her voice was a dead giveaway that she is not human. Her voice is gravely, most likely from dehydration but it is also low and muffled like someone had put a pillow over a speaker. Miranda cautiously reaches out to examine the woman's face but she startles back, her lips curling and causing her cracked lips to bleed.

Miranda retracts her hand then turns on her heels, "this will suffice."

"You're-wait, you can't take her."

Miranda turns to him warningly, making his swallow and simply nod in understanding as Inanna awaits further instruction. When Miranda turns back around she uses her index finger to signal for her to follow. She follows behind Miranda and stops when she does, Miranda doesn't look at Duke and instead examines her fingernails.

"Tell me Inanna, what would you do to someone who conned you?" She wonders.

"In my culture the punishments are direct reflections of the crime. If I was promised something and given another, I would return the favor." She answers.

"Hm." Miranda responds, mulling it over, "well, Duke here promised me an extremely potent, and rare poison but instead gave me something as common as nightshade. So, I say it's far I do something in return. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I don't care either way."

"Hmph. You're no fun."

With a snap of her fingers, the street below Duke's cart caves in and large, black roots engulfs the entirety before swallowing it below. The street restores itself as if nothing had been there, it happened so quickly that Duke didn't even get the chance to scream before disappearing from sight. Inanna bristles, this woman is obviously far more dangerous than Duke ever was and perhaps it would be in her best interest to behave, or at least play along. Miranda and Inanna cut through the crowd once more, the nearby vendors, swindlers, and customers bow their heads in avoidance. Inanna contemplates running, but after the display she just saw, she doubts she'll make it very far. The second they pass the threshold of the market place, a murder of crows flock around them causing Inanna to flinch away but she doesn't get far before her back strikes a stone wall.

She looks around in a panic, her hands grasping behind her for stability and blinks rapidly to adjust from the brightness outside to a poorly lit room. At least this room has light unlike the wagon. There are anatomy pictures of humans, and various animals strung up on the walls and bookshelves filled to the brim that line the spaces in between; a large workbench stands off to one side with two tables in the center littered with things she's never seen before. Inanna turns around to face the wall she struck, there's floor to ceiling iron bars with only a singular stone pillar in the center. Ianna stepped back from the bars, on the outside she appears calm and collected but, on the inside, she's panicking about being put into another cage. She should have ran when she had the chance.

"Can you read? Write? I know you can speak." Miranda states.

Inanna looks at the woman, she's now wearing what looks like a cloak made from feathers while walking around the room. Her face is covered with a golden bird mask that covers all but her eyes and hoops that reach to her collarbone, she has golden talons on her fingers that she uses to tap against a nearby counter. Inanna says nothing, instead opting to nod her head. She carefully examines her surroundings: she knows there's a cage behind her, but she sees no windows but she does see a door. She has no idea where she is, how she even got here, and she's far too weak to make an escape attempt now but it's good to orient oneself. Although, if this woman can move about wherever, and whenever she pleases then Inanna has no chance against her.

"At least you're literate. That's something I suppose."

Inanna takes mental note, this woman has no idea what she is and perhaps she can use that to her advantage. Inanna watches her pace around the room, anytime she moves too close Inanna scoots further away until she's trapped herself in the corner. Suddenly a cloud of feathers rises and surrounds the woman, when the cloud falls the woman is gone with only the pile of feathers in her place. Inanna peeks out from her corner, scooting across the cold, stone floor she picks up one of the feathers and strokes it between her fingers. It's been so long since she felt something this soft, she nuzzles it into her cheek before the woman appears once more. Inanna snarls and scatters to the nearest wall, clutching the feather to her chest in fear that the woman will take it from her.

Miranda kneels and places a plate with a cup of liquid on the floor, she then stands upright and takes a few steps back from it. Inanna and her stare at each other in silence, waiting for the other to make the first move but Inanna ultimately gives in. She slithers toward the food, crawling on all fours in a similar fashion to a monkey with a broken leg. When she reaches it she grabs the food with her entire fist and shoves it into her mouth then gulps down the liquid all within one go. Then she scurries back to her corner for safety, her eyes never leaving the woman as she does so. Miranda eyes the feather in Inanna's hand but says nothing as she stands there, unmoving, if not for the shallow rise and fall of her shoulders with each breath then Inanna would think she's a statue. After a pregnant pause the woman sighs forcefully.

"What are you?"

Inanna doesn't answer.

"You can answer willingly, or I can force it out of you. Take your pick."

"Excuse me for not being more forthcoming about myself just because you gave me food and water. Given my previous situation, I'm a bit cautious of the information I share and of your intentions. Also, I know nothing about you and you already know my name. It's only fair that I obtain an equal amount of knowledge."

Miranda narrows her eyes briefly, but Inanna cannot tell from the mask blocking the view. Miranda mimics the pose she had earlier, with one arm around her waist and the other tapping away at her chin.

"You can call me Mother Miranda." She finally says.

"Pleasure to meet you Mother Miranda." Inanna responds.

"I do not know what you are, therefore I do not have anything intended for you. However, once I figure that out, trust me, you will be the first to know what I have in store."

"I don't trust you as far as I can throw you."

"Then I guess I should extend the first olive branch and tell you that I did spike your food to knock you out so I could experiment on you. However, as you can tell, that didn't work."

"Wouldn't be the first time. Doubt it'll be the last." Inanna retorts.

"If you won't tell me what you are, can you at least tell me how you're able to consume enough flunitrazepam to knock out a fully grown male without so much as a yawn?"

Inanna shrugs, "fast metabolism?"

Miranda huffs in annoyance, "very well. Be like that."

Miranda disappears once again, leaving Inanna alone inside the enclosed room. She sighs heavily, although she wasn't entirely lying about having a fast metabolism the drug that Miranda slipped her did, in fact, work. Not to its full extent, Inanna is coherent enough to at least try the nearby door: locked of course. Then she wanders into the cell to find a cot and curl up onto it with the feather still firmly in her grasp. She wakes to every sound, on high alert for any possible intrusion by Miranda knowing that once she finds out what Inanna is, it'll be over. Perhaps she'll keep her alive like Duke did, or maybe she'll kill her. At this point, Inanna hoped for later.

After a restless few hours Inanna stirs awake to the softest whisper of a breeze, she flings herself up on the cot and flattens herself on the wall. Miranda stands in the open cell with another plate in one hand, a cup in the other, and something draped over the arm holding the glass. She sets the glass and plate on the floor, then tosses a blanket and what appears to be clothes onto the cot. She turns away and strides into the main room, shuffling around some paper and other various items before settling in one spot. Inanna sniffs at the plate curiously.

"It's not drugged. Not this time. Don't shove it all in this time, slow down otherwise you'll choke. No one is going to take it from you." Miranda states firmly.

Inanna picks at the food, her stomach betrays her hunger but she forces herself to eat it slowly to taste for any inconsistency. She drowns the water then scuttles over to the cot, she rummages through the clothing and begins to strip by taking her shorts off first. Miranda has given her some pants, socks, newer looking shoes, a t-shirt, and a hoodie. Inanna picks up a garment with two half cups and some straps, she's never seen something like this before and forgoes it.

"So you're a winged beast."

Inanna whips around, throwing the shirt in her hand only for it to flail onto the ground pathetically. Miranda looks at it then Inanna who stands there shirtless but unashamed, Miranda kneels and picks up the shirt then holds it out. Inanna stands there, eyeing the shirt then Miranda before taking a careful step forward and yanking the fabric away.

"How do you figure?" Inanna asks.

Miranda says nothing and instead her feathered cloak transforms into six black wings that stretch themselves out until they hit the ceiling and floor. No longer in her winged cloak she is now in a long black dress with a white and black piece of fabric around her shoulders, she also has a golden halo behind her head. Inanna hisses softly at the sudden change but stares at the wings, they don't look like traditional feathers; they look flowy, almost water-like while floating in the air and moving on their own. More importantly, Inanna wants to touch them very badly.

As suddenly as they appeared, they reform around Miranda and turn back into her feathered cloak. She stands there expectantly; she gave some information so now Inanna must give something up too. She ponders, how much can she reveal while still keeping her identity a secret. Instead, she'll dance around the subject, she knows what Miranda wants now and she can give her everything but that.

"I do have wings, yes. My name dates back to the Mesopotamian era, and I've been told it was the name of the goddess of the sky."

Miranda hums then leaves the entrance of the cell to return to her work, Inanna finishes dressing then pokes her head out. Once she determines that Miranda isn't moving from her spot she creeps up beside her and slides the feather onto the counter top. Miranda pauses her work and eyes the feather, she chuckles under her breath then scoffs a little.

"What use do I have for a feather?"

"You gave me something so, now I must give you something. This is all I have."

For once, Miranda takes pause. She picks up the feather and examines it, she has thousands of feathers but for some reason, she can't help but stare at this one in particular. She tsks and slides the feather back to Inanna.

"A simple 'thank you' would suffice."

"Thank you." Inanna whispers before taking the feather back and holding it to her chest.

"You're welcome. You're being treated far kinder than I normally would treat the creatures I bring down here. By now you would have been cut open, examined, studied, and maybe I would even try the Cadou on you. However, you fascinate me more and, from how the Duke acted I would say you are very valuable, then perhaps you're better off alive."

"What is a Cadou?"

Miranda's eyes flash for the briefest moment, "want me to show you?"

Inanna nods and the corner of Miranda's mouth cracks into a smile before she turns from her reading and guides Inanna to a nearby cabinet. Miranda kneels down to open it and pulls out a large jar with a fetal looking mass inside. Miranda spends hours explaining what it is, how she created it, why she created it, and Inanna simply listens. Occasionally she asks a question that sends Miranda into another frenzy of excitement, it even gets to the point where Miranda brings out a chalk board and begins to illustrate her points. She shows pictures of past experiments which make Inanna tit her head curiously whereas most people find the graphic, surgical details disturbing.

"I see you're not phased by human experimentation." Miranda comments.

"Why would I? Humans are the reason my species is nearly extinct. Last I heard, there is only about five of us left. Including me."

Miranda contemplates Inanna's words carefully, so she's a winged creature with extraordinary healing capabilities, and her species would be classified as extremely endangered. She changes the subject and proceeds to continue her lecture on how she created the Cadou, how she experiments with it, and most importantly, how she intends to use it. Inanna barely understands any of it, mostly because Miranda keeps using words like: gene, allele, autosomal dominate disorder, and other phrases that Inanna doesn't know. However, she's content listening to Miranda ramble on about whatever it is she's rambling about. Duke barely spoke to her and when he did, it was often a command or order. It wasn't until Inanna yawned that Miranda finally pauses, the feathers on her cloak rustle.

"Oh my...I've been talking at you all day. I'm sure you're hungry."

Inanna eats her food given to her and Miranda bids her goodnight; now that she knows what Miranda is passionate about, she knows how to keep her occupied. Inanna asks questions, and over the next few days, or possibly weeks, it's hard to tell with no clock or windows, Inanna and her fall into a sort of comfortable routine. At one point, Miranda unlocks the door to allow Inanna to use a bathroom instead of a bucket, and to finally bathe. Since then, Miranda hasn't asked Inanna what she is, nor has she bothered to try and learn more about her. Anytime Miranda tries to flip the narrative, Inanna gives her generic answers or answers the question indirectly without giving too much away. Although, Inanna is slowly lowering her walls around the strange, bird woman because she enjoys how excited Miranda gets when speaking about her experiments.

Miranda caught on to how much Inanna enjoys feathers and slowly started leaving various kinds of feathers around her lab for Inanna to find. She sees Inanna stash them underneath her mattress and catches glimpses of her rubbing them against her face. Miranda briefly mentions her daughter, how she passed away and Miranda is trying to get her back. Inanna remains extremely quiet during this part, she fiddles with the bottom of her shirt while Miranda speaks but the conversation is short lived. Miranda doesn't speak to her over the course of a few days and seemingly avoids Inanna altogether by leaving her food, water, and nothing else. When Miranda finally returns to the lab Inanna fiddles with a tube of green liquid, she holds it up to Miranda who hesitantly takes it.

"What is this?" She asks.

"My blood. You shared something very personal with me, it seems only fair I share something with you."

Inanna doesn't bring up her daughter again, but this act seems to appease Miranda and she goes to work studying the blood sample. It's like no blood she's ever seen, or been documented but it shares the same markers as lizards and birds do. Her white blood cell activation is faster than the speed of light which makes her immune to all diseases and why she didn't react to the knock out drug. This is also how she's able to heal to incredibly quickly, and why Duke was selling her blood as a cure-all. It still leaves her with more questions than answers but now she has a new hyper fixation: what is Inanna, and how can she be used to bring back her daughter? Sometimes Miranda forgets Inanna is there until she suddenly pops up and startles the priestess.

It seems her blood sample did more harm than good because Miranda has been obsessing over it for days now and growing increasingly more frustrated. When Miranda seems in an especially sour mood then Inanna reads one of the books on the shelves and sits in her little cell. Today Inanna is stir crazy. She's finished all the books in English that line the shelves, she doesn't know the other languages and instead opts for pacing back and forth. Miranda tells her to knock it off so Inanna finds something else to occupy herself which only irritates Miranda more.

"How about you make yourself useful instead of fiddling with everything like a child!" Miranda snaps out, her hands slamming down on the table.

"Just how do you expect me to do that?"

"Get samples or something. Either help me or get out!"

Miranda points to a tray of empty tubes, Inanna picks them up and looks between the tubes and Miranda. Slowly she backs away toward the door, careful not to drag her feet as she nears it. Every so often she looks at Miranda then the door, this has to be some sort of trick right? She wouldn't let Inanna go freely. Hours pass and Miranda grows more and more frustrated to the point she flings the things in front of her onto the floor. She messages her temples and groans loudly then swivels in her chair to not see Inanna.

Panic sets in, as does the realization that she may have just allowed her most valuable asset to wander free. Miranda flies through the door, she checks every room she passes and every hiding spot in the area before she steps outside. She doesn't make it far before she stops in her tracks, before her is a very, large rainbow dragon. Not like Alcina's dragon; this dragon is more stereotypical with four legs, leathery bat-like wings, a tail that's whipping around, and a gigantic head with two horns that stick up. This dragon shimmers in the sunlight, its scales mimic the reflection of sunlight on water giving it a translucent appearance; and it is currently rolling around in the snow like a dog. It throws itself onto the ground, scrapes its back into the snow then uses its tail to flick it up into the air. It then rolls back over, grabs scoops of snow and throws it into the air so it can prance around.

Miranda clears her throat as the dragon is in midroll in the snow, it freezes with its legs up in the air before it tilts its head upward to look in Miranda's direction. They lock eyes, their golden ones staring back into her dull, gray ones. This has to be Inanna. The forest, once alive with the thumping and crunching of the dragon and the sounds of wildlife, comes to an abrupt halt. Inanna tilts her head and looks off into the distance, Miranda listens carefully but only can make out the soft crunching of footsteps in snow. The dragon flings itself to its feet, and arches its back up, their scales stand up like a cat fluffing its hackles or tail to appear bigger. In fact, the dragon mimics a cat perfectly from the way it twists to expose its side while maintaining the appearance of intimidation. Miranda covers her mouth to smother a laugh, what a sight to see a fully grown dragon with its scales puffed out.

Out of the forest wanders a lynx, it sniffs the ground before making eye contact with the dragon. It copies the dragon by arching its back, puffing its tail, and hissing loudly while the dragon curls up to make itself even bigger before it unleashes an ear-splintering roar. The intensity of it vibrates the nearby trees and makes the birds all take flight at once. The lynx huffs and retreats back into the forest, the dragon shakes its whole body to lower their scales then turns to face Miranda. Before her eyes the dragon shrinks, the wings fold into themselves, and standing there is Inanna.

"Well, that would explain the feathers."

Inanna suddenly makes a sound that Miranda hasn't heard in over a century; laughter. Inanna laughs hard enough that she doubles over while holding her stomach. Miranda raises an eyebrow then smothers another chuckle before settling and hugging herself from the brisk cold. Miranda sighs, she has enjoyed having Inanna around for she didn't realize how socially starved she was. She could easily drag Inanna back down to the lab, force her to stay, and study her further. Miranda didn't know dragons even existed, this would cause so many break throughs in the scientific community and possibly be the answer for bringing her daughter back.

Instead, Miranda returns inside back to her lab, leaving Inanna out in the snow to do as she pleases. She'll probably come to regret this decision, that is until she hears the soft pitter patter of feet inside the lab. An object clatters next to her. A dragon scale the size of her hand shimmers even in the warm lighting. Miranda picks it up to look it over, then rotates to face Inanna who is twiddling her fingers.

"What's this?"

"I read that crows like shiny things."

Miranda can't help it anymore. She throws covers her mouth to try and smother the snort she unleashes while failing miserably.

"Is this because of the horde joke?"

Inanna chuckles, "sort of but also, in my culture giving someone one of your scales is a sign of loyalty and trust because it exposes our underneath. You trusted me with your science stuff and your daughter, and you could have easily taken me even in my dragon form. Yet, you were willing to let me go. It's only fair that I begin to trust you. I...I want you to have this one."

Miranda holds the scale in her hand, "I see why you were hesitant to share with me what you are. Especially after giving me your blood, I could have taken the path Duke did and exploit you."

"Yet, you didn't. Even after you found out about my healing abilities, I'm sorry it causes you so much frustration."

"Hm. Well now that I know what you are, all the pieces are coming together."

There's a long silence between them before Miranda breaks it, "where will you go now?"

"I...I don't know. I don't have anywhere to go."

"What about, other dragons?"

"I told you there's only about 5 left including me. That was...years ago so who knows if they're still alive or not. All I have is my memories but even those are beginning to fade. I haven't seen another dragon since my parents died."

"How old were you?"

"Mentally and physically probably around 6 or 7. I was raised in orphanages until they started to catch on that I didn't age to the same degree then I was old enough to care for myself. That is, until Duke found me. You know the rest."

"You've been without parents...for how long?"

Inanna shrugs, "I lost count after 70 years."

Miranda watches Inanna and reads her body language, how shy and upset it makes her to talk about her parents. Miranda and her are not that far different from each other. While she's been without a daughter and failing at every turn to find a suitable host, there has been a young woman out there without a mother for close to the same amount of time. Miranda places the shell onto the counter next to her then stands from her stool in front of Inanna before she opens her arms with the palms facing out. Inanna looks her over, her initial reaction is to run but forces herself to take step after step until she hits Miranda's chest. Miranda wraps her arms around the girl and tightens until she can't tighten her hold any further.

"Thank you." They whisper to each other simultaneously.

[potsnpansies]

Quick little oneshot for @unorthodoxx-page ‘s A Tale Of Spirits! I wanted to explore the tense relationship slowly forming between Azula and Donnie. And Donnie’s issues with sensory that he likely has to hide.

-

The first time Azula noticed it, she passed it off as the spirit’s typical antisocial and self-important demeanor.

This time, however, it's clearly something more.

The first time they were in a royal procession. Spirit and Princess paraded around the city to show off the Fire Nation’s power. Both in large, open palanquins so that the onlookers may be graced with their presence. Azula was bored, it was a typical routine since Donatello had appeared. She glanced at the spirit on the adjacent palanquin and was surprised to see him unusually stiff.

There was an accompanying band this precession, and some children waving sparklers and cheering. Donatello squinted at the sights and sounds, seemingly annoyed. Azula took it as his regular distaste for the Fire Nation and its people.

The second time, Azula, Mai, Ty Lee, and the Spirit are walking through a bustling market. Their bodyguards are covertly stationed everywhere around them, but it doesn’t seem to dim the lively place. Azula hopes to gain information better this way, the group hooded and concealing their status. Peddlers try and shove their goods in their faces, street performers dazzle cheering onlookers, people argue and haggle, and street musicians are stationed everywhere to get a quick buck. It's all very chaotic and loud.

Don’t even get started on all the smells and flashing colors. The gutters reek of refuse, while everywhere is bombarded with smells of spiced meats and perfumes. Azula herself finds it too much for her tastes.

“How much longer do we have to search around this dump?” Mai complained, she never was one for outings.

“I think it's fun! Everythings so.. Lively!” Ty Lee chipped in, much to the glower of her friend.

Azula finished interrogating a fishmonger for any information he may have received and turned to give her posse a short speech on patience when she finally noticed him. The Spirit was as far into the hood as he could, his face pulled into a subtle grimace. He’s uncomfortable, she could tell as much.

Why didn’t she notice sooner? He was usually always prattling on and lecturing to her, showing off his strange knowledge. But he hasn’t said a word since they started walking around. Very well, she can be benevolent.

“We’re done here, guards, to me.” Within mere seconds the five bodyguards which were previously discrete seemed to practically teleport to her position. “Gather information on the avatar, question anyone you might think might have intel.” She sent the chosen guard away, then ordered the other to ready a coach. The spirit was quiet the whole time as well. Even the other two seemed to notice something was amiss.

_

“Aren’t you going to say thank you?” Azula prodded Donatello, the pair had been riding silently for nearly 15 minutes beforehand.

The spirit drew in a slow breath, then released it. He still seemed uncomfortable. “For what?” He deadpanned, but there was a subtle bite to the words she didn’t expect.

“For getting you out of there, of course, it's clear you don’t like crowds. Though I expected a Great Spirit to able to handle more than some rowdy shopkeepers.” Azula smiled, her words lacked the venom they spat though.

“I don’t need your pity.”

Now THAT was a surprise, no comeback? No scathing remark? She had hit a weak spot. Azula pushed further. “I never said I pitied you, you just looked so sad out there, I figured it was the least I could do for such a powerful being” Azula teased. She watched as he practically raised his hackles. The two fingers that had been previously tapping his knee the whole time instead gripped his pants in a moment of anger.

He released his grip and sighed. His palm gently hit his face and dragged downward in a show of annoyance. “Listen, Azula, I don’t do well with large crowds. Is that what you wanted me to say?” His question came more as a sign that this conversation was over. Azula took it. “Very well then, I’ll make sure the fire priests know.”

She always had to have the last laugh, after all.

-

Azula entered the spirit’s room without knocking. The fire priests came to her saying that he had shut everyone out of his dwelling on threat of death. Strange.

Donatello was wrapped in a blanket on the floor in the corner of his room. It was dead silent save for the muffled noise of some strange grating music coming through the device he always wore on his head. He was gently rocking back and forth, clearly, he had not heard her. He stared fixated on the floor, and only when he sensed her movement did he shoot up straight to his feet.

He was furious.

“Get. Out.” He practically growled the words. His gaze pierced right through her.

Azula practically shivered. “Apologies dear Great Spirit, but you can’t threaten the Fire Sages like that.” She tried to lighten the mood.

“Five.” He had never sounded so angry.

“What are you saying?” Azula began to back up.

“Four” by now she had gotten the idea.

She was out of the room by “two”.

-

When Donatello left his room finally, it had been two days. It was only to pluck some food and drink from the apologetic offerings the sages had left before slamming the door. Azula had been putting up with his sulking since the terrifying encounter. But now she had to confront him. He couldn’t stay cooped up in there forever.

And she needed to apologize.

Of course, it's only strategic, the sages had been in a frenzy at Azula since her breach of his boundaries. They were praying profusely for her to not be cursed or sentenced to death. It's not her fault. Right?

Two knuckles softly rapped at the spirit’s door, the guards stationed on either side had been sent away. She didn’t know why she felt the need to do that, but it was already done.

“Donatello. You are required to leave your living quarters at some point.” She kept her voice stern, but not cruel. There was no answer.

“You can’t stay cooped in there forever, the sages are going crazy from your little stunt.” Shift the blame on him, that always works. Sure.

No answer.

Azula sighed. “Listen, I’m sorry alright? I should have asked to come in. I breached your privacy. I, Azula, Princess of the Fire Nation and daughter of Firelord Ozai, apologize.”

For a moment Azula thought that she was just talking to air. Several long seconds dragged on. Azula readied to leave when the door slowly creaked open. Looking down at her was a rather tired spirit wrapped in a silk robe.

“I accept your apology.” And with that, he turned away. However, leaving the door open as an invitation.

Azula took it.

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Forgotten Lands - Fae!Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: This is a new AU universe series that is going to work in the same way as my Mechanic!Curtis series. It’s gonna be a collections of interconnected oneshots that all take place within the same universe but there’s no over arching plot, its just oneshots as and when I think of them!

Summary: After your village turns on you, you seek safety in the wild uninhabited lands up north, only to find they’re not as wild or uninhabited as you thought.

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: Lil bit of Angst! World building! Mention of violence! Fluff!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

AU Masterlist / Masterlist

Forgotten Lands

You woke to the feeling of two small paws kneading your stomach. Peeking your eyes open to find Noks wide awake, pressing his paws into you to wake you up.

“Is somebody hungry?” You yawn pulling your hand out from the blanket to stoke his ebony fur.

Noks purred loudly, pressing his head up into your hand his bright blue eyes closing in content. You smile softly scooping him up into your arms as you sit up. Noks climbed up onto your shoulders as you slide on your worn boots and wrapped a shawl around you to fight off the chill.

You tried not to shiver as you stepped closer to the fire, adding a couple more logs and poking it to get it going again. Once the flames were large enough you set your small metal teapot on to warm up. You then walked the small distance to cabinets where you stored any food you had.

Your cottage was very small, it consisted of one small rectangular room that held everything you owned. Which was very little, a few basic sewing supplies, a couple of books that you have read a million times, a wooden cot that you didn’t dare move too much in out of fear it would collapse beneath you, and one wooden chair and table, both of which were very wobbly.

Noks hopped off your shoulders and onto the small table, the cat perfectly adjusting when it wobbled beneath him. He sat down facing you letting out a long loud meow to tell you just how hungry he was.

“Okay, okay it’s coming,” you tell him grabbing the small jar that held the last of the dried meat you had.

Grabbing the last few strips you gave him half, leaving the other half for another day in case you were unable to procure more. As he tucked on the teapot began to whistle so you took it off the fire and pour the hot water into the one mug you owned. You then added a pinch of your precious spices to give it some flavour.

With your piping hot cup of tea, you sat down at the table, taking care not to spill your tea as your seat wobbled, and grabbed your last apple for your own breakfast. Noks had already finished his dried meat by the time you sat down and slinked over to you, pestering you for more.

You ran your hand over his back “I’ll be going to market today to return the clothing I mended so I’ll hopefully get some meat in payment or some drachmas” you tell him.

Noks just let out an unimpressed huff as he flopped down onto the table for belly rubs.

Once you had finished your apple and tea you got yourself ready for the day. Wrapping up in a couple more layers and packing your basket full of the clothes you had mended for other villagers.

“Coming?” You ask looking over at Noks who was curled up on your cot.

He raised his head to look out the small window as if surveying the weather. Clearly okay with the look of it he got up and did a big stretch before jumping up onto your shoulders. You gave him a little scratch on the chin before patting out the fire and making your way out of your small cottage, towards the market.

Your cottage was the furthest away from the rest of the village, which is what you preferred. You like having your own little spot in the world, even if it was only small and made the trek to market longer. It was peaceful and quiet, just the way you liked it.

By the time you reached the market, it was already busy, with various villagers and merchants haggling for the best deals. In no time at all you had already returned a coat for the butcher who paid you with some dried rabbit meat, a dress for the merchant selling herbs who paid you 3 bronze drachmas and returned a shawl to a local milkmaid who gave you a small chunk of cheese.

You had also picked up some more clothes that needed mending, and promises of food as payment. Your last stop before heading home was to the farmer's wife to return his jacket.

“Thank you for your service, I would do it myself but…” the farmer's wife sighed holding up her scarred hands from a farming incident a few years back.

“It is no problem at all, do you have anything else that needs mending?” You ask.

“No, but I’m sure he’ll rip something soon enough” the wife sighed shaking her head “Here’s your payment,” she says holding out a small pack that contained some vegetables and fruit.

“Thank you, this is very generous,” you say gratefully, putting the pack away in your basket.

The woman shrugs “Nobody else will buy it, too many imperfections”

You nod forcing a small smile, it was always like this. Your payments being food near the end of its life that nobody else would buy, you always manage to get it to keep for a few more days but you did wonder what fresh food would taste like.

The sound of laughter pulled you from your thoughts, looking over your shoulder you spot the lord's son laughing and pointing at a servant he’s just tripped. The servant quickly got to her feet, her face red with embarrassment, brushing dirt off her hands and skirt.

The farmer's wife caught your attention as she sighed shaking her head “You’d hope now that he’s 5 and 10 that he’d act more grown-up”

You hum in agreement as you watched the Lord’s son try and goad people into crossing him, to speak up against his cruelty. You knew it would be one day soon that he’d goad the wrong person, a mercenary passing through that didn’t fear the Lord’s wrath, and get into trouble or worse.

“He is a toad, someday soon someone will teach him a lesson, show he’s not as invincible as he thinks,” you say shaking your head.

The wife lets out a small hum, her eyes darting to Noks on your shoulder, a wary look in her eyes.

“I best get going, thank you for these,” you say nodding to the pack she’d given you before making your way back home.

A couple of days had passed and after spending all day sitting by the fire mending clothes you were exhausted and looking forward to a good night's rest.

It must have only been a couple of hours since you had fallen asleep, the embers of your fire still hot, when you awoke to someone shaking your shoulders. You blinked your eyes open to see and if the low light you could see your best friend looking down at you, a panicked look on her face.

“Erissa, what- what are you doing?” You mutter in confusion as you sit up.

“You need to get out of here now” she states grabbing your heaviest cloak and throwing it at you, her choppy black hair more wild than usual making you think she probably only recently woke herself or had been in a tavern.

“What why?” You ask in confusion, the panic in her voice driving you out of bed and slipping on your boots.

“The Lord’s son has fallen ill with a mysterious illness, and is unlikely to survive the night, the lord believes you to be a witch and cursed him” Erissa explains as she grabs a pack and starts shoving supplies into it.

Your jaw drops to the floor “Heavens! Why does he believe that!” You exclaim.

“The farmer's wife told him what you said at the market the other day, you called him a toad and said someone would teach him a lesson, the boils on his skin are toad like” Erissa explains as she walks over to you, holding out the pack for you to take.

“That doesn’t make me a witch” you argue shaking your head.

“No, but villagers suspected it, with your ability to keep food longer than them, your cottage so far out, not to mention him” Erissa explains nodding to Noks who was watching the entire exchange “especially since you names him after the death god”

“I did not name him after the old fae death god” you argue, Erissa threw you a pointed look “Knowingly, plus the old god was Noksytos, it’s different”

“It’s similar enough for them and if you don’t flee now you’ll be captured and tied to a stake by morning” Erissa states harshly, pushing the pack further into your grasp.

“O-okay” you mutter, the seriousness of the situation finally set in. You pull your cloak around your loop the pack over your shoulder before grabbing Noks “Where should I go? South?”

Errisa shakes her head “No that’s where they’ll expect you to go, the lord probably has already alerted the sentries on the ports, you need to go north” she says as she leads you out of your cottage and towards the woods behind.

“The north? But there’s nothing there, its all wild and ruins”

“Trust me, run north until you reach the river, cross it and keep going soon enough you’ll reach a cave tunnel, go through it and then you’ll be safe” Erissa promises “I’ll be covering your tracks and will meet you eventually, there should be enough in your pack to last you until I can join you”

You give her a quick nod, holding Noks close to you “Thank you” you breathe out, your voice wobbling in fear.

Erissa puts her hand on your shoulder “It will all be okay, take this to keep you safe” she says holding out a knife you’d never seen her carry before.

It was long and curved and you didn’t instantly recognise the metal, instead of being silver in colour it was completely black. It was like it was sucking in all light around it.

“When did you get this?” You gape.

“A long, long time ago” she muttered not taking her stormy grey eyes off the blade, you glanced at the thin scar that ran down the side of her cheek and wondered whether this blade was the cause of it “Now go” she states pushing you towards the woods.

You hesitated for a moment, glancing at your cottage, your home. You prayed that one day you could return but you knew better. Turning on your heels you began your journey into the woods.

Hours passed and you had nearly drunk the entirety of your canteen of water. Thankfully you could hear water flowing not far up ahead meaning you had to be close to the river. Sure enough, as you reached the top of the hill you could see the river below and it was much wider than you expected.

As you got closer Noks made his displeasure known, his claws digging into your shoulder. He meowed loudly in your ear as you crouched down to fill your canteen back up. As you did so you glanced up and down the river for a way to cross but saw nothing and you weren’t sure if you could waste time walking up or downstream for one.

Surveying the river you could see the water wasn’t running too fast and didn’t appear too deep. You weren’t a strong swimmer though and you had Noks on your shoulders so you couldn’t risk slipping and getting swept away. You glance behind you to see one of the large oak trees, miraculously it had a long thick stick laying beneath it, one that you could use to keep your footing as you crossed.

Putting your canteen back in your pack you grabbed the stick and slowly made your way into the river. The water was much colder than you expected making you wince. Thankfully it went no deeper than your naval, Noks still clung onto your head and shoulders though, probably drawing blood with his claws.

By the time you got to the other side you were shivering. You contemplated stopping and maybe building a fire but you weren’t sure what creatures roamed this land. You knew many of the beasts were now extinct following The Great War 500 years ago but there still could be bears or wolves.

You decided to carry on, hoping that you’d soon dry off as you walked. You guessed that it must be sunrise soon too which would also help. You needed to at least get to the cave tunnel, you would have shelter there and could possibly risk a small fire.

It was another couple of hours until you reached the cave tunnel. You were dryer than before but you were still chilled to the bone, tired and weak. It was a struggle to put one foot in front of the other.

You put your hand against the cold stone, resting your forehead against it as you took a moment to recover. You could rest now, make your way into the tunnel and rest.

You were just about to take your pack off to set up camp when you heard a branch snap behind you. Spinning around you tried to spot what caused it but couldn’t. Another branch snapped, this time closer. You needed to get out of here and fast before whatever it was realised you were there so you took off into the cave tunnel.

You were approaching the other end when you heard a loud roar, the fear it instilled in you had you running faster. You failed to notice until it was too late that the roar actually came in front of you. You only realised it when you emerged from the cave right in front of a large monster. Its lion's head roared in your face, spittle covering you as you cowered in fear.

You fell to the floor, holding onto Noks tightly protecting him with your own body. You then heard the sounds of shouting followed by another roar from the monster. You screwed your eyes shut praying that you would survive or that at least the end would be quick.

A heavy thud then ran through the woods, the ground shaking beneath you before everything suddenly went silent. Slowly you peeked your eyes open only to see the monster lying beside you dead a knife protruding from its eye. You scramble back from it, something you soon regret as it allowed you to see all of the creature, its bat-like wings, the goat head that grew from its back, and the tail that ended in a snake's head. It was a chimaera, one of the many monsters you believed to be extinct.

The sound of shuffling had you looking up to see three men all standing watching you sceptically. A man with ebony skin, shortly cropped black hair and bird-like wings, the man to his right was the tallest out of the three and had messy golden locks and cerulean eyes, the last of the men stood on the far right had long brown hair that reached his shoulders and in his metal hand was a blade that was the twin to the one in the chimaera’s eye. What caught your attention the most though was their ears, all of them pointy. Ears of a Fae. The creatures of nightmares, the ones that you thought were killed off after the great war.

“Are you okay?” The male in the middle said, his voice soft.

You were unable to answer though as fear took control of your body causing you to pass out.

Your chest felt tight as you began to stir, shifting in your cot it felt like there was a weight on your chest. Peaking an eye open you confirmed your suspicions that it was Noks lying on your chest. But instead of staring at you, waiting for his breakfast, he was facing off to the side his sights set firmly on something ready to pounce at a moment's notice.

Expecting it to be just a mouse scurrying by the window you followed his gaze only to be startled awake at the sight of the golden-haired fae male from before reclined back in a chair, hand running over his chin as he gazed out the large nearby window. Your sudden movement caught his attention, that or he heard your heart rate skyrocket.

“You’re awake” he simply said his voice soft “I was beginning to worry that you wouldn’t”

“I-I-I-“ you stutter as you gaped back at him.

You thought, you hoped last night had all been a horribly vivid nightmare. But it wasn’t your nightmare was real and was sitting right in front of you in a loose and billowing white tunic that showed off the vast muscle of his chest and navy blue pants. You move to pinch yourself but still would not wake up.

Your eyes darted around the large and well-decorated room. Its walls were white with pastel blue floral patterns, the ceilings were so high that even stood on someone’s shoulders you probably still wouldn’t reach. Two large windows lined the one wall, allowing in so much light it was like you were outside. The bed you lay upon was so soft it was like a cloud and so vast that a whole family could fit.

Eventually, your eyes settled back on the male to your left, he’d watched you the entire time in silence. Remained silent as you then studied him. His hair was tidier than it was before but still seemed like a hand has been run through it a couple of times. His face was calm but cautious, waiting to see what you’d do. Despite the pointed ears he seemed completely different to the monster you had been told about, his eyes weren’t cold, his long fingers lacked claws, his teeth were perfectly normal and not sharp like a shark. You still couldn’t believe a Fae was sitting in front of you.

“You- you should be dead” you finally managed to say.

The male tilts his head, his brows furrowing in confusion “Why?”

“You-you’re fae, they died out centuries ago after the great war” you mutter shaking your head.

A look of understanding passes over his face his pink lips parting “Ah yes…. That was a lie carefully constructed following the peace treaty” he nods.

“What? What peace treaty?” You question, you had never been told of any treaty, you heard the Fae numbers had been so drastically hit that the fighting just stopped and they never recovered.

“The one the human side called for to end the war before too many of them perished, the deal was for fae and humans to live separately and humans to believe our kind simply died out to nothing but stories, the fae have since inhabited areas shrouded by magic in places the humans just seen as wild lands” the male explains sitting forward in his seat “there are very few passages between the two, how did you know about the tunnel?”

“My- my friend told me about it, said I would be safe when I went through” you explain shifting back in the bed to maintain the distance.

“Safe?” The male's brows furrowed once more.

“Yes my village believed me to be a witch, my friend got me out before they could take me and burn me at the stake” You look down to stroke Noks’ head feeling calm wash over you as he nuzzled back into you.

“Well, I can say for certain you are not a witch” the male huffs, his gaze then drifts to the side where a large dresser stands, the knife Erissa gave you sat on top “Did your friend give you that?” He asks pointing to the knife.

“Y-yes” you stutter, terrified that he may use it against you.

He instead just hums and nods his head “Your friend did the right thing, you’ll be safe here” he says before standing up “Dinner is in a couple of hours if you feel up to it” You watch as he crosses the room towards the door.

“Wait” you nearly shout as he reaches the door, his fingers nearly inches from the handle “Who-who are you?”

A small smile plays on his lips as he looks over his shoulder at you “Steven, but you can call me Steve”

You couldn’t help the small smile that broke out hearing such a normal name “Y/N, and this is Noks” you say nodding to Noks.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both, I hope to see you at dinner” he smiles softly before making his way out of the room and you heard no hint of a lie whatsoever.

For the next couple of hours, you debated whether you wanted to join Steve for dinner, whether it was even safe.  You were still pacing back and forth in front of the grand bed when there was a light knock on the door.

You spin around to face the door, Noks instantly going on guard from his spot on the bed.

“Hello?” You call out as you slowly back away so your back was against the wall.

A female pokes her head into the room, you guessed she must be some kind of nymph from the greenish hue to her skin. When she spots you in the corner she gives you a kind smile, her golden-coloured eyes holding a gentle warmth.

“I’m here to see if you were joining Steven for dinner?” She says as she steps inside the room, her light blue dress shifting like water as she walked.

“I-uh-I do not-um” you stutter unable to decide let alone find your words.

“It’s okay, if you’re not comfortable I can bring food to you, it might be nice to have a change of scenery though” she offers with a kind smile.

You blink a couple of times, swallowing nervously “I-“ you start before shaking your head and looking down.

“I understand that you feel afraid, but you have nothing to worry about you are safe here, the stories you’ve heard are nothing but stories,” the nymph says as she walks over to you, your gaze rose to meet hers when she went to put her hand on your arm but hesitated “my mother was killed and I was chased from my home for being part Fae, Steve gave me sanctuary here”

You study her for a moment your eyes meeting hers. You see the look of sadness in her eyes as she mourned her mother and old life.

“I’m sorry” you whisper.

“It's okay, my life is much better here than I was in my old stream… Steve is a kind male, you have nothing to fear from him” she reassures you.

You nod your head before glancing around the room in which you had inhabited for the last few hours. Your stomach began to rumble as you realised you hadn’t eaten anything since last night.

“A change of scenery would be nice” you admit glancing back at the nymph “I’m Y/N by the way”

“Kalliphae, but most just call me Kalli” She smiles in return “Now let’s get you changed into something more suitable”

Soon enough you were changed into a gown far more extravagant than you’ve ever worn before. The first gown that Kalli had pulled out for you was even more extravagant, you had tried to convince her to let you wear your old clothes but she said they were still being washed. So you made a compromise and settled for a much simpler, but still extravagant to you, gown instead.

Kalli then directed you through the large grand corridors towards the dining room where Steve was waiting. You had brought Noks along too since he also needed feeding, you hoped Steve didn’t mind the extra mouth.

As you turned into the dining room you halted in your tracks when you saw the table was completely full. You expected to only see Steve but there were 7 others all sitting around the table too. Two of which you recognised as the male with a metal arm and the male with wings but this time his wings were gone.

The room was so loud as everyone talked over each other that you took a couple of steps back. You caught Steve’s attention as you did so, the male rising from his seat at the head of the table. Everyone else fell silent as he stood.

“Y/N, I’m glad you could join us, please sit” he offers gesturing to the chair adjacent to him.

You blinked a couple of times as everyone's gaze settled on you, all of them assessing you, some more kindly than others.

When you didn’t move or say anything Steve began to make his way over to you “They are only my friends and not as scary as they look” he says softly.

“I’d say it's the opposite for Nat” the male with the goatie snickers, only to yelp when you guessed he’d been kicked by Nat.

“Ignore them, please come sit,” Steve says offering his arm.

Your gaze lifts to meet his and see once again only sincerity in his eyes. So you looped your arm with his and let him guide you to the empty seat at the table.

“Let me introduce you, this here is Natalia” Steve says gesturing to the redhead that sat opposite.

“Call me Nat” she smiled.

“Next we have Anthony Stark, you’ll often find Tony tinkering away in his workshop, he made Bucky’s arm,” Steve says nodding to the man you recognised from before “This is Clint, Bruce, Thor and finally Sam” Steve continues gesturing to each of his friends “this is Y/N, she has come here for sanctuary which we are all happy to provide” he finishes sending a pointed look around the group.

You gave them all a small smile before sitting down as you did so you spotted the vast amount of food spread out across the table. There was enough to feed a whole village here and it was all so fresh and luxurious. So luxurious that you began to wonder whether it was a trap, there were so many tales about heroes getting trapped or killed because they couldn’t resist the temptation of the food before them.

They all seemed to notice your hesitation as they all began to load their own plates, Tony spoke up “It’s not poisoned, it won’t trap you here, gods humans are so distrusting”

“Stark” Steve scolded glaring over at Tony “Considering the events of last night Y/N has all the reason to be nervous”

“Ignore Tony, he’s just trying to wind you up, it’s just as safe as the food you’re used to, it just tastes better” Nat reassures you as she takes a bit of her food to show you it was indeed safe.

You give her a small nod before beginning to add some food to your plate. You didn’t pile your plates as much as the others did but it was still the largest meal you’ve had in a long long time. When you took your first bite you had to stop yourself from outright moaning at the taste. What Nat said was a massive understatement, this was the best-tasting food you’ve ever had. Glancing over at Steve you could see the small smirk playing on his lips that told you that you hadn’t completely stopped yourself.

“So what brought you here to seek sanctuary?” Thor asked as he dug into a whole roasted leg of meat.

“My village thought I was a witch, my friend Erissa got me out in the middle of the night and directed me to the cave which led me here” you explain as you feed Noks a chunk of meat off your plate.

“I don’t recognise the name” Bruce hums with a small frown as he glanced over at Steve.

“She’s human like me” you tell him which just made his brow furrow even more.

“That’s impossible” Bruce mutters.

“What Bruce is trying to say is that no human should know about the doorways between our lands, memory of them was wiped from the human race and us fae were forbidden to cross them” Steve explains as he leans back in his chair a contemplative look on his face.

“Oh… maybe she learnt it from old scrolls, she travels a lot” you shrug “I’m not breaking the treaty by being here am I? I don’t need to beg the lord or king for asylum?” You ask nervously.

“There’s no such ruling in the treaty to say humans could not cross into our lands” Steve states.

“And you’ve already been given asylum by the Lord” Tony smirks glancing over at Steve.

Your eyes dart to Steve to see him roll his eyes as he let out a long sigh. You could feel your heart racing in your chest as you realised that Steve wasn’t just a wealthy fae. He ruled over this land.

“I am not,” Steve says as if reading your mind “Me, Bruce, Nat, Thor, Clint and Tony rule over these lands”

“All six of you?” You question, you never heard of multiple people ruling over a territory.

“Yeah they call us the Avengers,” Tony says smugly earning an eye roll from most people at the table.

“The old lord died with no heir, a rival court tried to seize the land as their own, we fought against them and the people of this court chose us as leaders” Nat explained as Steve rubs the space between his brow tiredly.

“Steve is the unofficial leader though, he gets the deciding vote, and we all follow his lead” Clint adds pointing over at Steve with his fork.

“But unlike other courts we all have responsibilities and we debate what’s best to do instead of the emotions on one person driving decisions” Steve states picking up his fork and beginning to eat, effectively ending the conversation.

‘In charge’ Tony mouths when your eyes meet his and couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face.

Silence, or as close to silence as you could get, fell as everyone began to completely dig into their food. You practically devoured your plateful, having to remind yourself that this food wasn’t about to disappear and that you should pace yourself.

Noks would occasionally meow in your lap, nudging your arm with his head reminding you to feed him a scrap or two. You caught Steve smiling softly over at you after you fed Noks another bite of chicken.

“I’ll ask the staff to prepare him some food for the morning” Steve nods towards Noks.

“Oh it's no it's no worries,” you say shaking your head.

“It's okay, they do so for Bucky’s cat Alpine,” he says nodding over to one of the windows where a white cat was reclined on the windowsill that you hadn’t noticed before.

Noks instantly hopped down from your lap, food completely forgotten, and slowly made his way over to Alpine. The pure white feline paid him little attention as he leapt onto the windowsill.

“Do you mind answering a question?” Bruce says leaning forward as he spoke “How old are you?” he asked when you nodded.

“Four and Twenty” you answer, startled when Tony snorted into his wine glass.

“Four and twenty? You’d think our lifespans would make us slow to advance but they still describe their age like that” he laughs shaking his head.

You frown over at him “How else would you describe it?” you question.

“Just Twenty-Four, it’s much simpler especially when you get to triple digits” Tony explains with a small wave of his hand.

“Triple digits?” you gawk in surprise.

“Yes Fae can live to thousands of years old, nobody is really sure how long as many are killed before their time” Bruce explains.

“So how- how old-” you stutter slightly as you glance around the table.

“Well, Thor won’t tell us which means he’s definitely over a thousand years old” Tony starts before Thor interrupts his laugh bellowing through the room.

“Over a thousand please? I’m as young as all of you” he chuckles shaking his head in a way that said he wasn’t being truthful.

“The rest of us are around the around the three-hundred mark” Tony continues before Nat interrupts.

“Some closer to four hundred than others” she smirks sending a pointed look over at Tony.

“But Steve and metal fingers over here are over five hundred years old” Tony says pointing with his fork over to Steve and Bucky.

A frown forms on your face as you turn to look at Steve. He had been alive during The Great War, he could have possibly been fighting in it. Fighting against your kind, killing them. If what he said earlier was true about the peace treaty that meant he was on the side that nearly killed thousands of humans.

“I fought on the side of the humans, we both did,” Steve said as if reading your mind, or understanding the growing distrust on your face. You blink a couple of times in surprise “I- i- Fae fought alongside humans?” you mutter in disbelief.

“Yes many Fae, younger Fae disliked the tyranny the elder Fae led with, we fought with humans for their freedom, and even after the peace treaty fighting amongst the Fae continued, for land, for status, we continued to fight to restore peace and protect the humans at a great personal cost” Steve explained a dark cloud passing over his features as he glanced over to Bucky’s metal arm.

“I apologise, I did not mean to offend” you whisper looking down.

“No apologies are necessary, I understand,” Steve says his soft smile returning as he nodded over to you.

For the rest of the meal, it was relatively quiet, although some tension still hung in the air so at the earlier opportunity you excused yourself. Steve offered to walk you back to your room. The two of you walked in silence, silence that only grew more uncomfortable as the minutes passed.

“I apologise for my friends and my behaviour at dinner” he finally says once you reached the door to your room.

His apology makes you stop short, your gaze snapping up to his in surprise “No, I’m sorry for my prejudice, I believed all the stories we’d been told as children without considering whether they were actually true or not” you apologise shaking your head.

“It does trouble me that our alliance with your kind has been forgotten, but I understand it too, centuries have passed its only natural for some details to become distorted,” Steve says with a small shake of his head “but I meant it when I said you’d be safe here, you can stay as long as you wish”

“Thank you, my friend Erissa said she would join me, although I’m not sure if she truly understood what this place was,” you tell him.

“Of course, I shall alert my sentries and ensure she is safely escorted to the estate, those woods can be very dangerous, especially for a human” Steve nods.

“Thank you, and thank you for before with that Chimaera, I was certain I was dead” you admit with a long sigh.

Steve smiles softly “Well I shall thank the fates that our paths crossed when they did,” he says with a small bow of the head “I shall leave you to rest, Goodnight Y/N”

“Goodnight Steve” you smile bowing your head gently.

Noks then meows loudly in your arms making Steve chuckle “Goodnight Noks” he smiles.

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[florencemtrash]

The Wisp Between Worlds

CHAPTER THREE: OVER THE WALL

Acotar fanfic/rewrite. Inner Circle x OC. Eventual Azriel x OC.

Summary: Have you ever wondered what you would do (and do differently) if you found yourself trapped in the fantasy world of your dreams? For Nora, this fantasy of hers is about to play out when she finds herself portaled away to the Moral Lands south of Prythian. But all is not as it seems. Feyre Archeron is missing and the deadline to break Amarantha’s curse draws near. Who will save Prythian now?

Warnings: None for this chapter 

Masterlist

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Dinah made good money that day, haggling at the market to sell the deer meat for a higher price than it was worth. They’d even cooked a few cuts for dinner in the fire, filling the house with the heady scent of meat that lasted long after they’d finished tearing into the food with reckless abandon. After nearly a week of surviving on stale bread, tea, and water it felt like they were doing something wrong. But after leaning back in her chair, stomach full and comfortably stretching the waistband of her pants, Nora wondered if it was the guilt eating away at her instead. If she was right about this, about everything, then she’d just killed a faerie today and the High Lord of the Spring Court would be coming for her.

Nora crawled into bed, bones weary and begging for rest. But her mind would not let her forget the glint of the steel tipped ashwood arrow sticking out of the beautiful wolf’s skull. Dinah and Jaskiel whispered to one another from their shared bed across the room. During the winter months they needed to crowd into the living room by the fire to escape the cold that seeped in through the floor and walls. Sleeping on opposite ends of the room was as much privacy as any of them would get. The beds themselves were little more than sheets stuffed with hay and scraps of wool from Dinah’s mending projects and just barely kept you from freezing on the ground. 

Before Nora had met them, and before Jaskiel had fallen ill, him and Dinah had lived comfortable lives in this little cottage. Jaskiel was once a small-time merchant and craftsperson, making frequent travels to the Continent to trade his wooden trinkets for spices and silks to sell to nearby villages. Dinah stayed home, tending to the house and the now dead garden of roses in the backyard. Whatever comforts Jaskiel had brought back for Dinah had long since been sold to the highest bidder. The only pieces left from that previous life were the books tucked away in the corner shelf of the living room, swollen and yellowed from the many times they’d all run their fingers through the pages, and Dinah’s wedding ring.

“It was the first thing I bought on the Continent.” Jaskiel told her, smiling at the strange girl who sat on the floor by his feet, bright eyes staring at him with curiosity. After a bath and a dinner of boiled katniss she was looking better, less like a frightened bird with its wings clipped.

“My first successful trip, and certainly not my last! And I knew the first thing I needed to do when I came home was marry Dinah.” She smiled from her seat next to him, abandoning her sewing project for a moment to rub his knee. She was thinner now than when they’d gotten married, gray hair sprouting from her temples and framing the crows feet that grew from her eyes whenever she was happy. Her hands were stronger too, more calloused and accustomed to hard work after Jaskiel had gotten sick. By pure force of will she’d carried the two of them through life since then and she vowed to continue doing so. 

Perhaps it was because they’d known a kinder life that they took Nora in, patiently allowing her to learn the skill of survival. 

I don’t want to leave. Nora thought tearfully, praying to whatever gods existed in this world that she wouldn’t be swept away in the night. She’d dreamed of Prythian every day, dreamed of being able to go home. Part of her still wanted that, the other part simply wanted to make peace with the life she knew now. No more change, no more being taken to new places and forced to learn everything all over again. 

Her prayer was not answered.

Dinah and Jaskiel had been asleep for hours now, unaware of the doom that had slipped through the wall and was now lurking outside their home. Nora lay awake, holding a knife close to her chest and continuing to murmur her pleas and prayers.

The front door blew open, shattering into a million pieces and raining down over their heads with sharp stabs. Nora immediately jumped to her feet, throwing her blanket around her to protect from the wood that continued to strike her as the creature clawed at the ruined door frame. 

Dinah was screaming. Jaskiel shouted Nora’s name as he threw his body over his wife, grabbing his cane. His lame legs cried out in protest when he tried to stand, brandishing the glorified stick as a weapon.

Nora sprained across the room, heart pounding and vision a blur as she barely dodged the next spray of wood that came crashing down. 

The beast had ripped the walls and part of the ceiling into ribbons with one angry swipe of his claws.

Well that was fucking rude. Nora thought, trying to quell the shaking of her hands as she stepped in front of Jaskiel and Dinah, holding her knife out towards the beast as he finally made his way into the room.

Every step shook the ground more powerfully than an earthquake. The little moonlight spilling through the cracks in the ceiling were snuffed out by his enormous frame. Standing taller than a fully grown man was a creature with the body of a bear, head of a wolf, and horns extending so far out from his skull it was a miracle they didn’t catch on the wooden beams. Pure muscle rippled underneath fur that glowed with a golden light, illuminating the mouth of jet black teeth that were bared as he roared, “MURDERERS!” 

Nora cringed, clapping a hand over her ear. Don’t drop the knife. Don’t you dare drop the knife.

“MURDERERS!” he screamed again. The foundations of the house shook with his power. Dinah’s screams died into quiet whimpers. Jaskiel crumpled to the ground, legs folding like paper beneath his rickety frame.

“WHO KILLED HIM?!”

The house remained silent. Only Dinah’s choked sobs punctured the stillness of the night. Nora tried not to faint, her mind fracturing into a million pieces as she tried to think of what to do next.

Do I tell him I killed the faerie? Do I tell him I killed Andras? Was that even the faerie’s name? But he hasn’t told me who I killed. I know who I killed. Am I supposed to know who I killed? Am I supposed to know I killed a faerie at all? What will happen to Dinah and Jaskiel?

Infuriated by the silence he lifted one arm, slamming his paw into the ground so hard that it broke through the wooden floors. Nora could feel the heat of his breath as he drew near, shoving his face right up against hers. “WHO KILLED HIM?!” 

Nora refused to falter, irritation slowly beginning to overtake her fear.

His breath smells like roses. How ridiculous. 

“We didn’t kill anyone!” Dinah sobbed, clutching her husband's shaking arm. The beast took one step backward and Nora let out a breath of relief. They were still alive. Dinah must have caught onto that string of hope because she began to regain her composure. Her blubbering might do nothing more than enrage the beast enough to slaughter them all.

“Please we didn’t-” Jaskiel’s feeble words were cut off by a growl. The beast’s eyes were still fixated on Nora, filled with even more fury for the fact that she remained standing - standing with a weapon brandished in her hand. The gall of the girl. He ripped it out of her hand as easily as one swatted a fly. Nora was too shocked to register the pain in her forearm as she stumbled backward, blood dripping down her hand and landing with a rhythmic thump thump thump onto the floor. 

If he regretted hurting her he didn’t show it. As if to make a further point that he could kill them all in an instant, he whirled around towards the dining table. It exploded without so much as a whisper from him, taking out a chunk of the wall in the process.

His horns threw shadows against what remained, twisting and turning like a pair of skeletal hands. Jade green eyes glared out, filled with fury and some small seed of grief. “Who killed him?”

“We didn’t kill anyone.” Nora said. Her pain made her angry. 

“LIAR! THE WOLF! Who killed the wolf?” 

Jaskiel and Dinah shared a look. Nora hadn’t said anything about a wolf.

“I did.” The young girl didn’t flinch, although her throat tightened from the admission like someone had a hand around her neck. “I killed a wolf. This morning in the woods.”

“Hush, child.” Dinah hissed. She tore a strip of fabric from her dress and tried to stem the flow of blood from Nora’s arm.

“And did you know?” The High Lord growled out, barely concealing the threat of death in his voice, “Did you know he was faerie?”

The color drained from Nora’s face. 

This is it. Two choices: lie and say you didn’t know and maybe he’ll let you live. Or… tell the truth. Tell him you knew the wolf was a faerie. Tell him you killed him out of hatred. Go to Prythian… try and get home.

The beast caught the flicker of recognition in Nora’s eyes, caught the narrowing of her inky black eyes in a look of hatred. 

“You did know.” he seethed. He pulled away from her, disgust in his eyes at the feeble human girl before him. This was the girl who’d killed Andras. Some pathetic little human had slaughtered his trusted friend. “Did you enjoy it? Did you enjoy it when you slaughtered my friend.” He prowled about the room, never taking his eyes off the three of them still huddled in the corner by the cinders.

“Better him than me.” Nora held her head up, glaring at him.

“No.” Jaskiel breathed out, grabbing at her uninjured hand. “Please,” he begged the beast, “She’s my daughter. She’s young. She didn’t know any better. She was afraid.” 

“Is that true?” the beast hissed, baring his fangs, “Did he attack you?”

She squared her shoulders. “No.” 

“So you slaughtered him. Unprovoked. You murdered him.”

Nora barked out a laugh, “And how many humans have you murdered? How many will you continue to murder? How many homes will you break into? How many lives will you threaten?” her voice was filled with venom as she spit out the words, “I hope your friend is suffering right now in the afterlife. I wasn’t certain at the time, but now that I know he’s faerie I don’t regret it at all. I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

She ignored his deep growl and dealt a final blow, “It was a quicker death than he deserved.” 

With a roar he brought his claw down on the bookshelf next to him, shattering it completely. The beloved tomes tumbled onto the floor, half shredded and dusty from their fall.

If you were really going to kill me, you would’ve done it by now. 

The fear of a painful death with Tamlin sinking his teeth into her throat and thrashing her around had made Nora forget one key fact: she knew this story. She knew about the curse that hung over his head - that hung over Prythian - and like it or not, he needed her.

The realization gave her power. She stood up again, ignoring Dinah’s desperate hands as she tried to force her daughter to kneel again, “What do you want?”

“What do I want? I want justice for what you did. I want you to pay.”

“We’ll pay the cost.” Dinah said frantically, “Name your price.” 

Nora’s heart broke. Please don’t. 

They had no money to spare. Dinah worked hard enough as it was, coming home every night with bleeding and cracked hands, and Jaskiel could do little more than beg for scraps of work. The wealthy in the village would offer them no respite, no mercy. They were too comfortable behind their iron gates and towering walls. Nora didn’t want to see Dinah beg too.

“And what is the price you’d lay on your daughter’s head?” the beast asked, stepping off the ruined shelf. Dinah stilled. “Whatever pathetic sum you offer won’t be enough. Andras was worth more than one-hundred of you.”

“Then what would be enough?” Tell us and be done with it already. “What do you want?” 

“A life for a life. That’s what I want.”

“I’ll pay it.” Jaskiel said, voice even and strong. Dinah swore at him as he struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane. 

“What the hell are you doing, Jaskiel?” Nora hissed, turning around and stepping directly between him and Tamlin. 

His kind face, weathered and leathery after decades of sea travel, softened when Nora’s face blocked the terrifying beast. She knew he liked her. He’d treated her with the love and kindness he would have shown his own daughter if he and Dinah had ever been blessed in that way. But the fact remained that Nora wasn’t theirs. She owed them a debt that could never be repaid and she wouldn’t forgive herself if anything happened to them.

“I’ll pay the price.” He said again, stepping to the side. Nora stepped with him, refusing to let Tamlin get close to Jaskiel.

“No he won’t.” Nora commanded, swinging back to Tamlin. The beast’s eyes flickered for a brief moment with something like surprise.

“As touching as the offer is,” he drawled, “I want the actual murderer.”

“Take me outside then. Don’t do it here.” 

Again, that flicker of surprise, “You dare ask for such a thing?” He scoffed, eyes narrowing.

“I wasn’t asking. You already ruined half the house and left a hole in the floor, you don’t need to fill it with blood either.” Nora spit out. 

He snarled, “For having the gall to ask me for such a thing, I’ll clarify something: I want your life. Prythian wants a life for the one you stole. So either you come with me across the wall to live out the rest of your days, or I take you outside and tear you to pieces as you so kindly told me to do.” His lips pulled back in a threatening smile. 

“So either you kill me here and now, or some other beast over the wall kills me in a few days time. Tell me, Beast, which would be quicker?”

He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowed. There was something in the way he moved, cat-like and predatory. Doubt flickered within her. What if I’m wrong? What if he kills me?

“I have lands,” Tamlin said carefully after some consideration, “So long as you don’t leave those lands you will be safe.”

“And what about Dinah and Jaskiel?” His eyes flickered over to the pair. Dinah’s eyes were trained on him, fear and fury simmering under the surface of her now composed face. 

“What about them?” 

“They’ll die without me. You only asked for one life. What fairness in ‘a life for a life’ is there if my absence leads to their deaths.” 

Dinah and Jaskiel both tugged harshly at the back of her sleep shirt, begging her to control her boldness. 

If a wolf could frown, it would look like the annoyance that crossed Tamlin’s face. “They’ll be taken care of.” 

Nora’s breath caught in her throat. Did he mean it? He must mean it. I’ll give him hell if he doesn’t help them.

“You swear it?” 

Tamlin’s eyes passed through each of them in turn. Nora, the girl’s name was. He tested the name out in his mind finding it agreeable enough. And he had to admit, some small piece of him was impressed - if not annoyed - by her boldness. The couple would surely die without her, already their frames were too thin and delicate to support their aging souls. 

“I swear it.” He said, and found it a very easy promise to make, “But, you must promise to never leave Prythian. The moment you step foot back in the Human Lands, the deal is off, and I can’t promise what will become of your precious little family.”

“Take the offer.” Dinah said, turning Nora around and grasping her too-thin face. Tears welled up in her amber eyes and Nora did all she could to stop the rising emotions in her chest. “Take the offer. You’re a survivor, child. You’ll make it. You’ll make something of yourself.”

Jaskiel said nothing, face falling and aging twenty years in a few mere seconds.

“When does she leave?” Dinah said with a sniffle, wiping her tears away and taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“Now.” 

“Now?!” Nora wanted more time with them. She wanted one more night.

“Now.” The decision was not up for discussion.

Dinah grabbed Nora’s shoulders, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. “Don’t worry about us,” she whispered, burying her face into Nora’s dark hair, “Just worry about taking care of yourself, alright? You know how.” She kissed Nora’s cheeks, wiping her hands on her nightdress as Jaskiel took his turn. 

Nora braced her legs, feeling the weight of Jaskiel in her arms as he held her close. His legs may have been weak and broken, but his arms were strong. He brushed the hair back from her face with a calloused hand, stormy gray eyes expressing all he could not say. Goodbye. You will always be a daughter to me. Until we meet again.

Dinah grabbed her thickest cloak from the back of Jaskiel’s chair and threw it over Nora’s shoulders. Somehow the most important piece of furniture had managed to survive Tamlin’s rage. Final whispers of encouragement escaped Dinah’s lips before the beast snapped at them to leave, maneuvering through the wreckage he’d created with grace and power. 

Nora could do nothing but allow her hand to slip through Dinah’s and quietly trail after the beast.

He led her to a beautiful mare that had been waiting obediently for them by the treeline. Her coat was as silky and pristine as a polished pearl. Nora hesitated. She’d never ridden a horse before, but Tamlin was in no mood to wait any longer. He grabbed her roughly by the waist with one paw and dumped her unceremoniously onto the mare’s back.

Asshole. She glared at the back of his horns as he led them into the night.

When Nora looked behind her she found Dinah and Jaskiel standing together in the gaping hole of their now ruined house. She didn’t stop looking until the woods closed around her and her home disappeared from sight.

>>>

They traveled for hours through the woods, the sun slowly sliding into place over the horizon and transforming the frost-bitten forest into the world’s largest chandelier. The constant rocking of the pearl-coated horse beneath her made Nora’s stomach turn and her thighs ached from the effort of staying upright. Tamlin’s utter silence didn’t make matters any better as he traced some secret path through the woods. Over time the rhythmic crunch of snow breaking beneath the mare’s hooves began to drive Nora to insanity.

You’re supposed to be getting me to fall in love with you, you know? Fucking idiot. 

The more and more Nora thought about the events from last night, the more irate she grew. He’d crashed into her house in the middle of the night in his beast form, scared them nearly to death, demanded Nora leave her home, and now wasn’t even putting in the effort to speak to her. It was deathly silent in these woods, as if even the squirrels and birds knew that royalty walked among them.

Nora huffed. Tamlin continued to walk unbothered. 

“You didn’t need to break into my house like that.” She said pointedly, breaking the silence. 

Tamlin’s left ear twitched. “What did you say?”

Nora rolled her eyes. With his fae senses there was no way he hadn’t heard her.

“I said you didn’t need to break into my house like that.”

He ignored her, which only fueled her desire to speak her mind out loud.

“You could have stolen me away in the night without bothering them. You could have waited until daylight when we weren’t sleeping.”

“You’re upset because my timing wasn’t convenient enough for you?”

Nora frowned. When he put it that way her words sounded quite childish. “What I’m saying is that you barged into my home with more pomp and circumstance and-and drama than you needed to.”

“You killed my friend.”

Nora stilled. She wanted to apologize for it. As much as she didn’t like Tamlin she regretted what she did. Part of the reason she hadn’t been able to fall asleep the night before was because she kept seeing the light leave Andras’s eyes. She couldn’t stop herself from hearing the pitiful whine that had escaped his throat as he finally stilled. She’d dared to touch his body to close his eyes. But as quickly as she’d laid her hands on him she’d reeled back. In the time it had taken her to gut the deer and bind it to the sled, his body had turned cold and rigid.

“You threatened to kill my family.” She said lamely.

“And yet they’re still alive, aren’t they?” “How can I trust you? How do I know you won’t just send someone else to kill them after we’re beyond the wall?” “I promised you they would be taken care of. I keep my promises. The question is whether you’ll keep yours.” His voice was gentler, more tired the further and further they got from Nora’s village. She thought his power would be tied to Prythian in some way - that he would gain strength as they neared the wall. Instead he was dragging his feet, limbs landing on the ground with heavier steps as they went along. She made note of every change in his body, storing the information away to mull over later.

“If it means they’re safe you can be sure I’ll keep true to my side of things.” She replied.

He’d been walking ahead of her the entire time, forcing the mare into a brisk pace that had Nora jolting in her seat, but after a few moments of cautious thinking he slowed down to walk beside her. Even while atop a horse, Tamlin stood taller than Nora, his horns dangling over her head like the swaying branches of a tree. She looked at them for a long while, tracing the grooves in the bone all the way down to where they connected to Tamlin’s skull. He stared at her the whole time.

“You don’t look like your parents.” Tamlin said carefully, catching her eye.

Nora snorted. With her dark hair and darker eyes and… well the rest of her, she was well aware that no piece of her looked like it came from Dinah or Jaskiel. 

“They’re not my parents.”

She flung her arm out, grasping at Tamlin’s horn for support when the mare took a quick jump over a fallen log. Her thighs were burning now, holding onto the lean body beneath her like a lifeline.

“Sorry.” Nora muttered, jerking her hand back to her body and cradling it beneath the folds of her cloak. She flexed it uncomfortably. 

She’d just touched the High Lord of the Spring Court. 

Suppressing a shiver she instead focused her attention on the strip of fabric still wrapped expertly around her forearm, running her fingers over the material and ignoring where it dried stiff with blood. It reminded her painfully of Dinah. She would have to mend the rest of her nightgown now. Nora hoped she hadn’t stained it too badly with any blood.

“What happened to your real parents?” Again he asked the question carefully, like she was a flight risk he couldn’t afford to scare off… which she very much was.

“They’re alive… or dead… I don’t know.” A truth. “I was stolen from them too and brought here from the Continent to be sold by slavers.” A lie.

“But you escaped.” He almost sounded impressed.

“Obviously.” 

And one day I’ll escape from you too. 

The words hung unspoken between the two of them like a spider’s web between two branches, delicate and complex. They descended into silence once more. 

“I’ll need to bind your eyes when we cross the wall.”

“What? Why?” Nora snapped her eyes to Tamlin and she forgot about the raven in the sky she’d been examining for the last twenty minutes.

“I cannot risk you seeing my lands.” His back tightened and he held his head up high.

“You said I would be safe in your lands.” 

“You will be. That doesn’t mean I want you to see all of them.”

Because you don’t want me to know how to run away. 

“Fine.”

A black silk sash appeared in Nora’s hands, cool as water and weightless as she obediently tied it tightly around her eyes. He must have enchanted the fabric because when she tugged at the knot she made it would not budge. She tested the blindfold but as much as she tried to pull it off it would not give. She huffed as she gave up, turning her head towards where she imagined Tamlin still was. He may be taller than a man and ten times heavier but his footsteps were imperceptible.

Blindness forced her to see with her ears, straining to identify every flutter of wings and rustle of snow falling onto the ground from a disturbed branch. She was just about to ask when they’d reach the wall when the world went still. 

All the sounds of the forest she’d been analyzing died out. Magic rippled through the air, humid and all consuming as it reached out for her. 

Her face paled. Suddenly she was back in the sea, screaming underwater as salt water filled her lungs and magic dragged her from her world to this one. Her reigns on the horse tightened, knuckles losing all their color. 

“Take off your cloak.” Tamlin said tightly. “You won’t need it anymore.” 

Nora only gripped the cloak tighter as though it would keep out the magic that threatened to consume her.

Tamlin said nothing, but he must have continued forward because despite Nora’s protests, the mare passed through the break in the wall. 

They passed through like they were passing through a waterfall. Magic rushed over Nora’s body, slick and alien, but it was quickly replaced by the comfortable heat of spring. The heady scent of flowers filled her nose, clouding her mind with their fragrance. While the oppressing winter in the Mortal Lands had driven all but the scavenger birds into their homes, here they fluttered about seeking companions with whom to live out the eternal spring. The subtle morning sun blanketed Nora’s shoulders, heating her up beneath her clothes. Still she refused to give up the last piece of her home. 

Tamlin let out a sigh of relief or despair - Nora couldn’t tell - as he felt his bond to Prythian grow once more. His magic would always run through his veins as intrinsically as blood - being in the Human Lands had done nothing to diminish that power - but he could not deny his connection to the magic that ran through Prythian, a magic that was beyond himself and to which he was only a borrower. These were the lands to which he would be tied until the end of his days. 

“Welcome to the Spring Court, Nora.” 

________________

Author’s Note: Hope you all enjoyed! Apologies it ended up a lot longer than I was expecting... whoops 😅. I have a masterlist up and am also starting a taglist so if you want to be added just let me know! 

Taglist: @myheartfollower​ @impossibelle

[hippolotamus]

Tagged for Tidbit Tuesday and/or WIP Wednesday by @barbiediaz @forthewolves @wikiangela @giddyupbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @wildlife4life @honestlydarkprincess @loserdiaz @spotsandsocks @eowon @cowboy-buddie @thewolvesof1998 @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @spaceprincessem (I'm still catching up on all your lovely snippets. Consider yourself tagged back if you haven't posted for WIP Wednesday)

Tagging @shortsighted-owl @alyxmastershipper @stereopticons @elvensorceress @vanillahigh00 @apothecarose @chaosandwolves @heartshapedvows @buddierights @911onabc @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @statueinthestone @monsterrae1 @watchyourbuck @eddiediaztho @jesuisici33 @pirrusstuff if you wanna

IDK how I feel about all this but more from you're where I wanna go under the cut. All prev snippets here.

Buck returns the following day, like he said he would, continuing to do so for weeks. He learns Lucy’s schedule, what days she’s tending the cart, and makes it a point to see her.  He always arrives with the same question. She continues to leave him with the same answer. It becomes a bit of a running joke. He asks her to marry him and she tells him ‘no’. Sometimes, to add variety, she’ll say something like ‘if you can tell me my cat’s name, I’ll consider it’. It’s through these comments he begins to learn more about her. The first thing being that she doesn’t actually own a cat.  She tells him that her favorite color is aquamarine blue because it reminds her of the ocean, how she would like to travel more in the future; that she likes peas, corn and carrots, but not when they touch or mix together. Lucy proudly shares that she can drink most men under the table, and is exceptionally skilled at cards.  Buck also learns the history of Donato’s Flowers. It was started by Lucy’s grandparents, James and Emma, as a stall in Reading Terminal Market. Lucy’s mother had died in childbirth, and her father was either working or gambling, leaving Lucy with her grandparents most of the time.

She eventually tells Buck about going with them to the market as soon as she could walk, and helping when was strong enough to do so. How she would be rewarded by being allowed to pick out candy from the enormous bins several rows over from their stall.  “My sister used to take me there when we were kids,” he admits wistfully one October day. He hadn’t meant to say anything about Maddie, too afraid of tearing open the hole in his chest that never quite heals completely. But he did let it slip, so he doesn’t see any point in trying to hide it now. “We would get pastries and hot cider, or lemonade. Then we would walk around and she would make up stories about the different people we saw.” “Stories?” Lucy raises an eyebrow at him, a curious lilt to her voice. “Like what?” Buck takes a moment, letting his eyes flutter closed and breathing in the scent of chrysanthemums, roses, and fallen leaves. He pictures a maze of wooden booths that offer almost anything a person could want — meats, cheeses, bolts of fabric, cakes, pies, toys, and so much more than he can remember.  “There were always so many people bustling around. So much activity,” he recalls, his eyes still closed. “Haggling with vendors or trying to keep children in line. Then there were the out-of-towners. Easy to spot because of the way they would wind through the whole place, looking at anything and everything. I’m sure you know what I mean.” Buck huffs quietly, surprised by how easily the details come back. “Anyway, she would tell me to pick someone and then say they were a duchess who ran away from home. An undercover spy out for lunch. A pirate gathering supplies before going back out to sea. Absolutely ridiculous tales that would make us laugh until our sides hurt.” He opens his eyes to a world that’s very empty of Maddie and all the joy she brought him, and feels his heart break anew. Lucy watches him, equal parts fond and concerned.  “At any rate, that was more than you wanted to know,” he babbles. “Your cart is clearly no longer at the market. Tell me more about how it became this?”

[ofthecaravel]

Brandy

Chapter Three

Summary: A port on a western bay serves a hundred ships a day, and the lonely sailors flock to the Caravel Cantina, run by the Kiszka brothers (minus one). But when their brother returns with a handsome sailor in tow, the youngest Kiszka brother finds his perspective about his family and himself turned upside down.

Tags: Secrets and angstttttttttt, mentions of murder/blood/trauma, big talks lol

Words: 3.6k

A/N: Woof. Enjoy

~~~

Sam made a point to wake up before his brothers, wanting to repay them for their kind breakfast the previous morning.

Usually when he was up this early, Sam was groggy and irritable, but as he tied his shoes and weaved his hair into two neat plaits, he felt shockingly alert and calm. After doing a sweep of the kitchen, he decided it would be nice to pick up some bacon and fruit at the morning market to make his own breakfast for them. He wasn't as skilled a cook as Jake was, but he had somewhat caught up skill wise in their time without him. He felt pretty certain that he could whip up a meal that would earn him at least a couple of begrudging compliments. 

Sam slipped quietly out the door and found himself enjoying the short walk to the docks, gratefully breathing in the cool, salty air and grinning into the breeze. He even giggled under his breath while he watched a flock of seagulls fight over a bagel behind the bakery. This was strange, and the people serving him at the stalls seemed to be perturbed by his bright, cheerful conversation.

"You feeling alright, son?" asked the butcher as he handed over the wrapped slab of marbled meat to Sam, who thanked him and slipped it into his bag.

"Right as rain," Sam answered truthfully. The other man blinked and hmphed, and Sam felt his eyes watching him as he walked away, humming a shanty to himself as he skirted past the stalls. The woman at the fruit stall watched him with a similar curiosity as he weighed oranges in the palm of his hand and dropped them into his bag, not taking his usual route of haggling for lower prices for lemons and limes for the bar. Instead, he pressed a coin into the palm of her young daughter and walked off without giving them any grief about their citrus stock.

Something had changed. Sam felt it inside and all around him. He found his pace slowing ever so slightly as he passed the inn. His eyes were pressed to the windows, hoping to see the curtains in the first room parted so he could catch a glimpse of dark hair and tanned skin. But they were drawn tight, and Sam knew that Daniel was more than likely deep in sleep, so he pushed away the warmth in his face and hurried on, trying not to let his thoughts linger. He focused on the thought of breakfast, of bacon sizzling in fat on the old skillet, of oranges crushing into fresh juice in clean glasses, of broad chests under thin linen…

-

"Christ," Sam whispered as he opened the door, physically shaking his head in hopes it would knock the thoughts in his brain out his ears, leaving them on the street so he could make this meal in peace. 

When Sam walked in, he was surprised to see that both of his brothers were awake. He was even more surprised to see Josh's standoffish stance at the oven with his arms crossed and glaring a searing look at Jake, who stood by his door with a similarly frustrated look.

"Hey," Sam greeted weakly, the words barely cutting through the silent tension in the air. 

"Sam-" Jake started, looking away from Josh to catch Sam's eye. He looked tired.

"Tell him." Josh said firmly, his usually sweet voice sour and rough. Sam startled at it, quietly setting his bag on the kitchen table and looking between them in confusion.

"What's going on?" Sam asked nervously, his heart thrumming anxiously in his chest. Any feelings of easygoing he had been riding that morning disappeared in an instant as he watched Jake shake his head and look at the ground, his tangled hair obscuring his unshaven face.

"Tell him, Jake," Josh repeated, emotion thick in his throat. "He deserves to know."

"Josh," Jake whispered, his usually confident voice jarringly weak. "I-"

"Or I can tell him," Josh cut in, resting a hand on the counter and angling his body towards Sam. He was all sharp edges and fiery focus and it was starting to scare Sam. "Sam, last night, when you were with Daniel. Tell me what he said about the ship."

"Josh." Jake looked up again, and his round eyes were watering. 

"Uh," Sam faltered as he always did when he wasn't sure which brother's team he was supposed to be on. "He said he was hired a few months ago. He...does the crew's hair. He said he'd give me a tour."

Sam laughed a little, but it wasn't received by either of the twins. 

"The name," Josh snapped. "The name of the ship. What did he call it?"

"Barbarian," Sam recalled, growing more confused by the second. "The Barbarian. Why?"

"It's just, it's funny you say that," Josh laughed tersely and without humor. "Because, you see, when I was talking to Jake, he said their ship was called The Broken Bell."

Sam blinked. Jake scoffed and shook his head but said nothing, chewing on his lip as anger curled off of Josh's small frame. 

"Oh," Sam said. "I...I'm lost."

"So was I," Josh went on, his voice rising as he began to gesture wildly. "See, I asked him about it, and the motherfucker can't seem to give me a straight answer about anything. I started asking questions. I thought I had that luxury, what with the sharing the womb and life and all, but still nothing. Can you believe that shit? So I've been thinking about it. Trying to figure it out. When you were out just now, Sammy, did you see any new ships in the port?"

"No," Sam answered, thinking hard about it. "Not that I remember. What do-"

"So where's Jake's ship docked?"

Sam stood there dumbly as his mind raced, trying to follow the manic string that Josh was pulling him by. The thing that scared Sam the most about this conversation was Jake's silence. Jake was never one to go down without a fight if he felt he was in the right.

"Jake?" Sam asked. Jake didn't meet his eye, still focused on the floor. "Where's your ship?"

"I could give a fuck," Josh interjected, smacking his palm against the table. "Sam, why wouldn't Jake want his ship to be seen?"

"I don't know," Sam replied, his thoughts too jumbled and anxious to do any critical thinking.

"What kind of ships don't want to be seen, Sam?"

Suddenly, there was an answer in Sam's mind. It sank straight through to his stomach, dropping like a rock into a cold sea. He could feel his body temperature drop as he stared down his brother. 

His big brother, whose every move he had copied up until the age of 17. 

Jake. 

Jake, who would never lie about the big things. The things that mattered. 

But as Sam stared at his brother, he couldn't push away the nagging feeling that clawed its way through his heart and into his head. A feeling that he'd been diminishing for a year now. A feeling that, for some reason, Jake wasn't telling them the whole story of his time out at sea. A feeling that there might be reasons that Jake never wrote about certain, glaring details of his job. 

"Pirate ships," Sam breathed, heaving out a bitter laugh when Jake flinched at his words. 

"Pirate ships," Josh echoed, his anger fizzling into a sullen upset as they glared at Jake wilting in the doorway. "Ships that change names. Can't be spoken about. Even to family."

"You don't understand," Jake finally whispered, his eyes flashing as he finally made eye contact. "You don't understand the danger this puts you in. I'm risking enough as it is to see you guys. I'm putting my men in considerable danger just by being here. They don't get the luxury of being out in the daylight on the off chance that someone somehow knows who they are. What they do."

"What do you do, Jake?" Sam asked, his voice quivering. Jake was silent, running his fingers through his hair and looking out the window as he swallowed hard. 

"What I do is show up for you," Jake replied coldly. "Isn't that enough? I'm here, I'm safe. I have it under control."

"Is this what you've been doing the whole time?" Sam prodded, his heart an electric pulse in his chest. "You left us to g-to go be a fucking murderer?"

"This wasn't the plan," Jake hissed, approaching his brothers with tensed hands. "I really did start out on a cargo ship. Hell, I'm still on a cargo ship. I didn't lie about that. We deal, we get our money, we move on. It's just...the stakes are higher."

"They're life or death, Jake," Josh whispered furiously, his eyes brimming with tears as he shook his head in disgust. "Unbelievable."

"We were boarded by pirates," Jake pushed on, his own voice rising and shaking. "I did what I had to do to survive that. These are the cards I've been dealt, okay? I have a lot of people's lives in my hands and I'm going to have to keep doing what's necessary to keep us all alive. And, yeah, it's not pretty. You would not believe the shit I've seen. The shit I've...done."

Jake trailed off, huffing a sob into the sleeve of his shirt before wiping a hand over his face and staring up at the ceiling. Josh and Sam looked at each other, emotions tangled in their stomachs. 

"I just wanted us to be together again," Jake whimpered, cries coming out in strangled bursts that he stifled with the back of his hand. "I didn't want this. I wanted to protect you from it and I'm just, I'm so fucking sorry. This is all my fault."

Silence fell over the house again. Jake tried and failed to steady his breathing, looking into space as Josh and Sam's own tears spilled over tensely and speckled their grimacing faces. 

"So what happens when you leave?" Josh finally spoke, his voice barely audible. "We just sit here and make drinks and wait for you to die at sea? Wait around for a blood soaked letter to show up? Wait for some drunk to mention that they heard another pirate captain on the coast bit the dust?"

Jake didn't reply, his eyes still pressed into his hand as he held his sweaty forehead.

"We get people in the bar all the time," Sam started, fighting to keep his tone even. "Who only started drinking because they lost someone to pirates. Most times, they're drunk before they walk in. How am I supposed to listen to that knowing that's what you do to people? To families?"

"To our family," Josh added cruelly. "That's what you're doing to us."

"I don’t know," Jake murmured, sliding down the door frame to sit on the ground. "I'm sorry."

"I can't deal with this," Sam spat, putting his hands up in surrender and walking back towards the door.

"Sam, come on," Jake tried, lolling his head against the wall and giving Sam a desperate look. 

"No, let him," Josh growled, taking off towards his own room. "We need time to process all of...this."

Sam didn't wait to hear anything more, he just stomped out the door and out into the sunshine. Half an hour ago, Sam had found the weather pleasant and uplifting, but now he felt like it was taunting him as he stalked down the street, headed for the inn. 

-

Sam parked himself in front of Room 1, rapped his knuckles three times on the wood, and stood back. He didn't know what he was going to say, but he knew that he was going to lay into Daniel within an inch of his life. His mind was still caught in the storm of anger and fear and betrayal, and those emotions were pushing what felt like gallons of adrenaline through his body to give him the courage to give Daniel the yelling that he deserved. Sam knew he couldn't channel his upset at Jake because he was clearly already crumpling under the weight of both his and Josh's anger, so he decided Daniel was the next best thing. 

Sam heard footsteps approaching the door, and in the split second while the door was opening, he pulled all his fury to the forefront of his mind and prepared to unleash it on Daniel. What Sam did not prepare for was Daniel answering the door shirtless with a cripplingly sweet smile that knocked almost all semblance of rage out of Sam.

"Hi!" Daniel chirped, resting his bicep on the doorframe and cocking his head at Sam. "To what do I owe this visit?"

Sam kept his eyes very firmly on Daniel's own, trying his hardest not to let the sight of Daniel's bare chest and the faint sprinkling of hair that adorned it distract him from his warpath.

"Pirates?" Sam hissed, narrowing his eyes at Daniel while Daniel's own widened anxiously.

 Daniel looked into the space behind Sam before reaching out, grabbing Sam by the collar of his shirt and yanking him into the room, firmly closing the door behind him.

Sam shrieked in surprise and smacked Daniel away, stumbling backwards into a flimsy dresser as Daniel sat harshly on the bed.

"What the fuck?" Sam cried. 

"Listen-" Daniel began, but Sam held his hand up and Daniel's mouth snapped shut obediently.

"No, no, you listen," Sam snapped, approaching Daniel while trying to speak concisely through furious, heaving breaths. "When were you going to let it slip that you've been lying about being a goody two shoes, innocent, box lifting, well adjusted gentleman sailor?"

"I am!" Daniel insisted, letting his shoulders fall as he looked up at Sam. "I just, you know. Have some more sides to me that I'm less proud of."

"You're a fucking pirate," Sam whispered angrily.

"I'm..." Daniel's eyes danced around the room before landing on Sam again with a defeated sigh. "Yeah. Okay. I'm a fucking pirate."

"What the fuck."

"If it makes you feel any better, I feel similarly about the whole situation."

"Were you going to tell me?"

"Not before your brother! But I'm guessing that just happened."

"You can say that," Sam scoffed, swallowing back tears that threatened to resurface. None of them made their way to his tear ducts but Daniel leaned forward as if they had, concern and regret writing itself all over his face. 

"Sam," Daniel said simply, reaching a tentative hand up and resting it lightly on Sam's arm. "I'm really, really sorry."

"I'm sure you are," Sam scoffed, curling his lip in disgust. "I can't believe this."

"It's hard to believe," Daniel reassured him, taking a moment to grab a crumpled shirt and slip it on. "I don't believe it myself sometimes."

"I just..." Sam sat defeatedly on the bed next to Daniel, all the fire in him dimming slowly with the emotional exhaustion starting to catch up with him. "Why?"

Daniel sat quietly for a moment, and with a sidelong glance, Sam could see Daniel genuinely thinking about his answer. With all his thoughtfulness and the cute crinkle between his brows as he thought, Sam wished that he could forget that Daniel was a lying pirate scumbag.

"I don't know how much Jake told you about his career, but I got my start in a similar way," Daniel answered, hanging his head and fiddling with his fingers. "We were on the same ship, you know. Before the ship was... I was a real, genuine sailor before we got hijacked by these, well, pirates. A real nasty crew. I don't know how it happened but I got backed into a corner by the captain. You ever heard of  Candlewax Jack?"

Sam nodded and Daniel let out a low whistle.

"He was a real piece of work," Daniel managed a laugh, but Sam saw the far away look in his eyes and felt his heart clench. "Just, this huge, bear of a man with this big, stupid sword. God have mercy on my soul, but he bled like a fuckin’ pig."

Daniel's words halted and Sam, already cold, kept his eyes glued on Daniel's profile, which had gone still and shadowed as his hazel eyes bored a hole in the wall.

"I thought Candlewax Jack was still around," Sam said quietly. "He sails near here 'cause he knows nobody will fuck with him.”

"The thing about pirates..." Daniel paused before looking at Sam. "They don't really die. When they're gone, whoever overthrew them takes their name. Their title. The respect of the crew they had. The guy dies, sure, but the name lives on."

There was another lull and Sam found himself completely enraptured with Daniel's words. It was gruesome and disgustingly real and inspired even more anger that curled in his core, but he was hanging on everything Daniel said like it was a story and nothing more. 

"The thing is," Daniel's voice cracked slightly and Sam fought the compulsion to rest his cheek on Daniel's shoulder. "I didn't want to be a fucking pirate captain. I know it seems all badass and cool when you're little, but when you're on the brink of death and there's this living legend who's turned out to be just a man bleeding all over your boots and you can hear all this screaming on the deck above you, it's just not. It's really not."

Another pause. Sam wondered if he could make himself get angry after hearing all of this.

"I couldn't," Daniel breathed. "Everybody knew that. And Jake seemed like the next best choice. He's the kind of guy who knows what he's doing even if he doesn't think so. I knew he could lead us, and so far he's doing a damn fine job of it. Jack before him was always doing the typical pirate pillaging and bloodshed and whatnot, but Jake's not like that at all. I know you're angry and feeling betrayed and you're more than entitled to that, but I don't want you thinking that we're going around swinging swords and plucking eyeballs on the daily. Sure, sometimes our shipments go awry and we need to make threats and...yes, we follow through on occasion. But we play it really safe. We lay low a LOT. Whatever bloodshed happens is justified, for the most part. And it's few and far between. I guess what I'm trying to say is, whatever feelings you're having are justified, but we could be a lot worse."

"Bold words coming from a pirate," Sam muttered, allowing the ghost of a smile to creep onto his face. Daniel physically relaxed at the sight and both men felt the tension melt a little. 

"I know, I know," Daniel admitted. "I'm not saying I'm the good guy here. Not completely. But I try really hard to be a good guy. Your brother doesn't have to try. He just is."

Sam sat with that for a moment as he curled his legs under him and let out a sigh.

"I just don't want him to die," Sam choked out finally, summarizing his feelings as succinctly as he could considering the state of disarray he was still floundering in. "And I...don't want you to die. Either. Yeah."

"Did you know that's the nicest thing you've said to me?" Daniel teased.

"Yes," Sam agreed. "But you're still a liar."

"I-yes," Daniel stammered, his already rosy cheeks flushing again. 

"And a thief."

"On occasion, yes."

"And you're too tall."

"Now you're just attacking my character."

"Yes," Sam grinned cheekily, looking away at the light tapping of rain on the window over the simple double bed. He hadn't taken the time to appraise the room properly, but he found it very simple and unassuming. It didn't suit Daniel very well at all.

"Of course it starts raining after all this drama," Daniel rolled his eyes, standing and closing the window. "Mother Nature is fickle like that."

"You wouldn't happen to have an umbrella, would you?" Sam asked sheepishly, frowning at the thought of walking home in the quickly escalating weather. 

"No, sir," Daniel confirmed and Sam groaned. "You can camp here until it blows over. Then I'll walk you back, how about that?"

"Sounds good," Sam agreed, hoping his nervousness at being cooped up with Daniel in the room that seemed to be getting smaller and more intimate by the second wasn't being betrayed by his face. He found out very quickly that he was not successful by the smug smile on Daniel's face as he sat next to Sam again, giving him an amused grin.

"I don't bite," Daniel purred, poking Sam lightly on the shoulder. "Unless you want me to."

"You know, maybe I will walk in the rain," Sam declared, standing up abruptly as Daniel laughed. 

"No, come on, relax," Daniel whined, reaching out to grab Sam's arm and yanking him away from the door. Sam let it happen, unsuccessfully masking a smile as Daniel smiled innocently up at him.

"I'm having a hard time pinning you as a ruthless killer when you keep begging me to hang out with you," Sam blurted, and he relished in the shock on Daniel's face as he scoffed and flushed again. 

"First of all, the killing thing is usually very begrudging on my part and has historically been- you don't actually care, do you?"

"No, please, enlighten me about your piratey killing sprees. I'd love to hear your justification."

They grinned at each other, and the odd, hopeful feeling returned to Sam as he and Daniel rode out the storm bickering and trading snippets of stories.

~~~

[biffhofosho]

Prisoner to Temptation | Chapter One

Fandoms: Monsta X

Genre: Royal AU, Romance, 19th Century period piece

Pairing: Hyungwon x OC

Chapter Word Count: 9.4k

Tropes: Arranged marriage, strangers to spouses to lovers

The Vibe: Lonely prince meets reluctant princess, the typical royal intrigue, period-appropriate writing style, beautiful costumes and lavish historical settings, friends with benefits-adjacent (though it’s more like royals with obligations), slow burn but also loads and loads of smut (like, I mean it, a lot lol) of every kind in between because arranged marriage, jealousy, angst, misunderstandings, confused feelings, falling in love with your husband, HAPPY ENDING BECAUSE FAIRYTALE DAMNIT

Synopsis: Naran has never fit the mold of a princess. She’s brash, disinterested, and nomadic at heart. It is only unlucky circumstance that has cast her as the sole hope of the Moghulikhan empire. With no brothers to secure the realm’s lineage, shaky borders ringing them from all sides, and a sister too young to understand any of that, peace only seems possible through an alliance, but that hasn’t stopped Naran from scheming up a way out. That is, until a handsome prince charming makes her an offer she simply can’t ignore.

A/N: First things first, happy birthday to my beloved Hyungwon. He’s too special and good for this world. He’s a living muse, and watching him work constantly inspires me (in ways it definitely shouldn’t lol). 

Anyway, I just cobbled this AU together out of lots of bits and bobs because I can. Really went for a style of writing and dialogue that you might find in your Jane Austens or Emily Brontës, so this may or may not be for you.

Let’s set it somewhere in the early 1800s though I took a lot of liberties with bygone kingdoms (all real at one point or another, though that doesn’t mean this is historically or geographically accurate—I’m just fucking around). In this universe, western and eastern cultures mingle freely. You’ll get the drift. I mean, I’m here for the romance, but I’m also a slut for worldbuilding. Please join me, your resident lost cause, on this time-traveling, bodice-ripping adventure.

Cvr | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12

Naran felt her head drooping with every second that passed with the Viscount LaCroix. At least she’d been trained well enough to blame it on the stuffiness of the hall or the port she’d just downed, but it was becoming clearer by the second that she needed an escape or she was liable to outright fall asleep standing up, and the last thing she needed was to fall into the red-cheeked buffoon’s arms and have him convinced he’d found his fourth wife.

Desperate, Naran scoped out the ballroom looking for a friend to save her, but servants weren’t allowed in except the wait staff and neither were commoners. Even her sister was too young to attend this meat market, for that was what this was—an excuse to haggle wares, only the wares were noble sons and daughters.

At last, her eyes fell on her mother, who was already scowling at her. That scowl only deepened as Naran turned to the old man next to her and bowed lightly.

“Excuse me, your grace, I see my mother is calling for me. Thank you for the… discourse.”

She should have added “delightful" or some other outwardly false adjective in front of the last word, but Naran wasn’t in the mood to play ballroom politics—not that she ever was.

On the way across the room, she snatched another wine from a waiter and downed it, wishing it was kumis instead. She found her mother, Queen Jigme, crouching like a snow leopard in the corner, cunning eyes always vigilant for prey, only now they were narrowed on a very different obstacle.

Though the princess was taller and slighter, more often than not, she was bent from boredom (a trait her father always said made her more grassland reed than girl), and the queen could loom over her with just a few words.

"That was very rude to leave the Viscount hanging like that, child of mine,” the silver-haired woman scolded from behind her own wine glass.

“Wouldn’t it have been ruder to die of tedium in his presence?” Naran challenged without bothering to keep her own voice down. There was no one else in this corner of the ballroom anyway.

"You know, I knew you were going to be the trial of my life when I almost didn’t survive your labor, and here you are, nearly bringing me to my death again. Your grandfather threw this ball in your honor, I’ll remind you.”

Naran rolled her eyes. “Like I could forget. I only heard it every time the carriage hit a pothole the entire fortnight it took to get here.”

“Yes, well, it took many other guests here just as long or longer to arrive, so I won’t hear any more of your complaining.”

“Mother, it’s not like they came here for me. Deda may have told you this ball was for my benefit, but that’s certainly not what he told all these poor royals.”

Her mother pursed her lips, the wrinkles from the many years of sparring with her daughter etched into her face. “It may not have been on the invitations, but none of these people are fools.”

Naran rolled her eyes again toward the Viscount, and her mother smiled before her well-weathered purse returned.

“Very well, most of them aren’t,” the older woman continued. “They have traveled from all across the continent with the express purpose of sizing up rival empires and aligning themselves with ones that are worthy or tactically advantageous. We are here to do the same, Narangerel. Why do you think I married your father, hm? If it weren’t for your grandfather’s meticulous planning, you wouldn’t be here. No one senses an alliance like he does.”

Dread prickled up Naran’s spine the same way sweat did. “Please tell me not the Viscount…”

“Of course not. The First Princess of Moghulikhan should set her sights on someone of far greater importance than a middling pseudo-royal from Limoges.”

“Mother, we’ve been over this—”

“And we’ll go over it as many times as we need to until you understand your role in protecting our kingdom. We are cunning and strategic, Naran. We are survivors. This is how Moghulikhan has endured for centuries.”

“Off the backs of saleable daughters.”

Queen Jigme glared at her. “You are very tiresome, young lady, but do not think you can break my will with tacky jokes and passive aggression. I know what you’re doing because I’ve done it all myself.”

Her mother meant it as a warning, but it came across as one of an entirely different kind.

If her mother was once as free-spirited as Naran fancied herself, then there was no outrunning her fate. She would marry, and she would do it for country, not for herself.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” grumbled Naran.

“In body, maybe. The spirit must be coaxed,” the queen volleyed back.

Or broken, Naran thought bitterly as she took another long draft of wine.

The women stood side-by-side for a while, appraising the room. There were lots of marriageable prospects among the crowd—the princess’s grandfather had seen to it—but most were decades too old or so feeble that they spent most of the night observing their options from their chairs. On the other hand, there were some so young that Naran suspected their governesses or caretakers were lurking just outside the hall.

Her future was dimming by the second.

“Come now,” added her mother, “it’s not so bad as all that. I did let you wear your deel instead of a Western dress, a decision I am regretting now that I see you’re the only one in a costume of your homeland.”

“Shouldn’t that please you? I stand out.”

“Yes, though I think it remarks more on your stubbornness than anything else. Even those from Goryeo went Western traditional.”

Naran sighed.

“What about Prince Hyungwon?” Queen Jigme continued with a sly voice that betrayed her.

The princess narrowed her eyes at her mother. “What about him?”

“No matter which way you look at it, he's a better prospect for you than anybody here.”

Against her will, Naran’s eyes slid across the lavishly appointed ballroom to the tall, thin man with long charcoal hair, a beardless face, and an inscrutable expression. There was an air in his posture that made him look richer than anyone else in the room, though part of that no doubt came with the fact that his empire was certainly one of the largest. In reality, though, it was down to the way he wore his suit—jacket unbuttoned, dress shirt open two buttons too deep just the same as his cuffs, and cravat unspooled like he was heading to bed at any moment. None of these other stuffed-shirts would dare to look so relaxed.

Not that she was paying attention of course…

“What on earth would possess you to say that?” the princess snapped to her mother as she polished off her port.

“He’s certainly the handsomest man out there,” observed the queen.

“Oh, and he knows it.”

Again, since Naran definitely hadn’t been watching him all night, she hadn’t picked up on the way the prince chatted with every pretty girl in his vicinity... And she definitely hadn't studied the way his face collapsed into perfect apathy the moment he was ready to move on to more fertile grounds, leaving a string of bereft royals in his wake.

“To say nothing of the fact that his kingdom abuts ours,” the queen continued. “We’re already neighbors.”

“Oh, so he’s obligated to choose Moghulikhan just because we share part of a border? Our lands may be vast, Mother, but half of them are empty desert. We’re not resource-rich like Chalukya or Lotharingia nor do we have the breadth of their armies. Why on earth would Prince Hyungwon ever marry me over Princess Bhataki or Princess Flavia when their empires are twice as wealthy and neither of them openly balks at Court obligations? He won't have to settle for anything less than exactly what he wants. It's not like he has a clock ticking.”

“Sometimes I wonder about you,” Jigme said with a gentle shake of her head. “Clearly, I’ve indulged you far too much. You know nothing of politics, Narangerel. Prince Hyungwon may be a man, but he's also the last of his line. With no other heirs, he will need to provide some for his throne lest he throw his realm into chaos.”

“That may be, but unlike us,” the princess objected, “he can have children at any age.”

“My darling child, a throne may sit on solid ground, but it can be overturned at any moment. With no other heirs behind him, his family line is less and less secure every day. The Chae lineage may be storied, but people will talk. They already are talking. The longer Goryeo hesitates on forging a match, the closer things march toward open season on its reign. Nothing is secure in this life, dear, least of all power.”

“So, what? The prince is here tonight to find a bride?”

“Well, he certainly didn’t travel twice as far as we did for just for caviar.”

Naran glared at her mother, but as annoyed as she was, she couldn’t keep her eyes on her now that her interest had been reluctantly piqued. It had nothing to do with the prince’s looks, of course, but intrigue was intrigue, she told herself. It was only natural.

Prince Hyungwon did not look back. He was too busy feigning attention to the Countess de Bourgh, who was prattling on about her new summer villa, no doubt, as she had to any poor fool who had crossed her path that night. But when Naran could convince her eyes to finally stray from his button mushroom nose and jutting, plump upper lip, she found someone else who seemed to have just as much interest in the young prince’s company as she did.

Seated at the most prominent table in the center of the room was the Emperor of Goryeo himself, the prince’s father, Emperor Gongmin. He was a much smaller man than his son, with a round, flat face and perceptive eyes. It was clear the prince favored his mother’s elegant looks as well as her attention span, as she was lost in her wine glass while the Empress of Wu yammered on beside her.

Queen Jigme smiled and said shrewdly, “You see now, don't you?”

Naran shrugged a shoulder. “They seem like they're having a nice time.”

“Perhaps the empress is enjoying herself, but you know the emperor hasn't eaten so much of a grain of rice tonight. He has eyes on everything.”

“Very well, Mother, I will play your silly games. On whom does the emperor have eyes?”

“I would say there are two frontrunners. The Princess of Champa and the Princess of Dai Viet. Princess Binh is plenty young enough to bear many heirs and from to an exotic kingdom without an heir apparent while Princess Tham is newly widowed, still young, and has only borne two daughters. The Fates would say she is due for a boy. And I have heard the Dai Viet palace is covered in gold while their mountains are said to be filled with precious stones. It would be a good alliance to make.”

“I suppose either one would make a suitable match if it weren't for one problem,” Naran said with an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, and what is that?”

“The prince isn’t interested in either one of them.”

The queen hummed. “What makes you say that, my sun?”

“Princess Binh is far too talkative and he cares little for conversation, and Princess Tham flatters him far too much. It makes him uncomfortable.”

The corner of the queen’s mouth twitched. “Does it now?”

“Not that I've been watching,” Naran added. “It’s just what I’ve heard other guests saying over their wine goblets.”

“Hm. Well, in the end, we both know that doesn't matter, does it, my child? The prince will marry whomever the emperor tells him to marry.”

“I suppose you're right about that, as you’ve been right about nearly everything tonight.”

Queen Jigme nodded, an odd light illuminating the dark wells of her eyes. “How pleased I am to hear you say that because I should like to return to the discussion about the third and best option for the prince’s marriage.”

There was a long pause as understanding simmered between mother and daughter, and slowly, a red aura crept above the collar of Naran’s deel.

“Mother, you cannot be serious!” she snapped, loud enough that a few other nearby royals glanced their way.

The queen hushed her daughter with a pinch to her side and a heavy sneer. Despite the Court decorum her mother otherwise fought to uphold, she gripped both of the princess’s arms and squared her daughter to face her. Jigme’s voice was low but firm as she said, “Naran, this is our one chance at protection from Goryeo’s might. Especially with your father still ill, we are doomed without this union.”

The princess tried to shake the older woman’s grip, but it was relentless. Though she tried to sound cavalier, Naran’s voice wavered as she said, “You’re being dramatic again, Mother.”

“Hardly. Goryeo has been overthrowing kingdom after kingdom. Perhaps you’re too young to remember Ladakh, but no doubt you learned about it in your schooling.”

“I did.”

“So you know what happened to them, to my people,” said the queen. Her voice was clipped and her eyes were tight. “Goryeo took them over in a week. A week, Naran. And they were Moghulikhan’s direct neighbor, the only kingdom left between Goryeo’s might and ours. Now that our lands share a border, I’m sure it won’t be long before that irks Emperor Gongmin. Moghulikhan might be large, but as you pointed out, we don’t have the population Goryeo does. It’s been but thirty years since that takeover, and no doubt the Emperor's hunger for power and country has only amplified.

“Still, he’s a tactician at heart. He knows our army might not be as large as his, but we are fierce and brutal, and our kingdom is like four in one. It would be devastating to the unfamiliar army once they hit, say, the Gobi. But that need never come to pass if our kingdoms unite peacefully.”

The princess rolled her whole head with her eyes. “And I’m supposed to fix that how?”

“Don’t be obtuse, Narangerel. You were raised in a court. You know that alliances are the only way to secure one’s self and one’s vassals, and there’s no alliance stronger than a blood alliance. If Prince Hyungwon selects you as his princess before other arrangements are made, then there’s nothing to worry about any longer. No one would dare trifle with our kingdom with the strength of Goryeo behind us.”

“You’ve just described the worst kind of bully. Why on earth would I want to marry someone like that for all the good looks in the realms? Do you know your daughter at all?”

Jigme rubbed the princess’s arms before she squeezed Naran’s hands. “Indeed, I do, my love. You think I would propose Saran to such a family? Your sister could never conquer them. She’s too sweet and gentle. She’d be swallowed up. But you, my sun, my strength… You have the wit and the courage and the cleverness to make men fear you.”

“So why don’t I just make them so afraid of me they leave us alone entirely?”

“And there’s the wit. Naran, you must learn to look beyond what your eyes can observe the way you trust Altantsetseg on the steppe. Let me be your eagle in this hunt, my love. I know the battlefields better than you do; I’ve lived my entire life on them. Emperor Gongmin may be a shrewd monarch, but Prince Hyungwon is malleable. He is his own man, a man who will one day be king. In the right hands, he will be merciful and kind. In the wrong ones, he will be a foolish puppet. What would you have, child?”

“I would have you talk sense,” Naran quipped. “Through a twist of fate, I may have been born into this world, but it is not my world, Mother. I could never be ‘the right hands.’ I care nothing for the games of idle men. I care only for an open sky and a wind-swept bluff.”

Jigme looked softly at her daughter. She brushed a stray tendril of mahogany hair behind the princess’s ear and said, “Be that as it may, the choice is not yours to make. You will make your way to the prince, and you will introduce yourself with a smile. Once he sees that, everything will fall into place, I’m sure of it. You are very beautiful tonight, my daughter, as always, and never more so when you offer up one of those rare smiles.”

“And what happens when he ignores me as he has every other woman tonight? What of all your schemes?”

The older woman quirked one of her silver brows. “That is an outcome I cannot accept. I am confident I have read the omens right.”

“Mother—”

“Shall I make the introduction?”

“Don’t bother. It will be over before you finish it. Let me embarrass myself alone.”

It went against tradition, but the queen knew better than to argue when she’d already won. “Go now, Naran. The prince is waiting for you.”

With that, Queen Jigme plucked the wine glass from her daughter’s hand and folded back into the ring of elder monarchs surveying the hall from stations along murals of bygone conquests. Even in the perfect silence of the vast grasslands, Naran had never felt so alone.

She was stunned to the point of paralysis. There it was, her future laid out with horrifying clarity. She was expected to pair up and breed like a mare only with far less freedom. It didn’t matter if the stud they’d chosen for her was significantly younger and more agreeable-looking than the rest of the stable—the fences were closing in all around her until, slowly but surely, she would be broken.

From his vantage point across the room at one of the many white-clothed tables, Naran’s grandfather smiled at her as though it was all going according to plan. As if to underscore this, his eyes slid further down the dance floor to the corner, where Chae Hyungwon, Crown Prince of the Goryeo Empire, watched the ruby port inside his goblet twirl like a skirt.

Naran was trembling. She’d faced off with packs of wolves the same as packs of thieves and lived through them, and while the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins was identical, the anxiety swelling her throat was something new, something she’d never felt before.

With a heavy breath, she shuffled inelegantly in her kitten heels across the ballroom floor and tried to call forth her eagle’s fearless spirit.

“Give me strength, Altantsetseg,” she whispered, and she swore she felt the beat of its wings in her gut.

The prince had his back to Naran, which was a thousand times more terrifying than if he’d seen her coming, for now she had to beg for his attention, and the princess hadn’t begged for a thing since she’d been a petulant runt at their chef’s knees, whining for treats after a day out in the grasslands. This was as far as she could get from such whimsies.

Though Naran was tall for a woman, taller even than many of the men here tonight, Hyungwon was a whole head taller than she. His jacket strained against shoulders so broad, they looked like they could rival her eagle’s wingspan, and again, she felt that unusual flutter inside her. The princess had to remind herself quickly that she was in charge of her fate, not her mother and not some handsome stranger who embodied everything she hated about Court.

Naran cleared her throat, but the prince did not turn. She had to get this over with quickly, like landing the mercy blow to wild game, and the simplicity and familiarity of the image spurred her tongue to action. She defaulted to English as she had all night, but if Prince Hyungwon didn’t speak it, all the better. Since she didn’t know a word of his language, she could be gone with a cordial bow and her duty would end.

“It appears I may be the only lady in this ballroom with whom you have not spoken tonight, my lord.”

Prince Hyungwon turned on his heel, and the air rushed out of her lungs. This close, he was arresting. Gone was the aloof gaze he had sported much of the night, replaced instead by keen eyes the color of roasted pine nuts that were just as warm and comforting. The baubles of his cheeks were high with a half-smile, and for a second, Naran thought she was the only person in the room with him.

“Are you jealous?” he said in perfect English and an unexpected flavor of cockiness, and that, more than anything, returned her senses to her.

“Hardly,” the princess retorted. “But others expect an interaction, so I’m obliged to give one for show.”

Hyungwon recoiled, genuine horror in his eyes. “I’m sorry, my lady. I fear the wine has loosened my lips. I meant no offense.”

“And I take none, sire. I am merely telling you that I am here as an emissary of my mother, Queen Consort of the Kingdom of Moghulikhan. She bade me greet you on behalf of our country. I am Princess Narangerel.”

Naran bowed, which Hyungwon echoed with one of his own, and when he came back up, his ears were pink and his grin was sheepish.

“It seems I have not made as good of an impression on the princess as I have on the queen. Will you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, my lord.”

Hyungwon cocked his head to the side as he studied her. “Really? Because it seems like you’re already looking for a way out of this conversation.”

“Don’t take it personally. I look for a way out of most conversations.”

“Perhaps I should though,” he persisted. “You conversed with the Viscount LaCroix for quite a while.”

Naran’s jaw dropped. He’d noticed that?

“It wasn’t for lack of trying, my lord, I assure you.”

Hyungwon smirked. “Very well then. I am satisfied.”

“I’m so pleased,” she deadpanned before she could stop herself. Thankfully, instead of affronted, the prince looked surprised with the vaguest hint of amusement. As far as torture went, things could have been much worse.

And then they were.

Out of the corner of her eye, Naran caught her mother, who only ever had clear vision when it came to her daughters and what they weren’t doing, edging discreetly closer. Panic set in. If the queen overheard any of this absurd and impolite conversation, she would be mortified and the princess would probably be permanently chaperoned. Who knew what untold horrors would be foisted on her? A shiver ran through Naran at the thought of all the potential obligations she couldn’t escape, and before the bile could rise in her throat, she doubled down on the lesser of two evils.

“Just go along with this, my lord, and everything will be over faster, yes?” she whispered to a very confused prince before she proclaimed much louder, “How handsome His Highness looks this evening! And how well you converse! I’ve never seen such happy manners on a prince before.”

Hyungwon blinked. “What on earth are you—”

Still louder, Naran said, “Your kingdom is very lucky to have such a genial lord at its helm. I see your long travels haven’t fatigued you at all. I trust the palace is to your liking?”

The prince was stunned into silence for a moment before those full lips tightened. “Listen, my lady, I’m not in the mood for—”

“Oh, shut up, and just agree with anything I said, so we can move on,” she hissed.

“Wait, you don’t want to be here?”

“Of course not. And neither do you. Thanks to that scowl, I could tell that from across the ballroom.”

“I thought this sort of thing is what all maidens wanted?”

“‘Maidens,’ huh? Please. To be paraded like ponies at auction in hopes of a high bid? I think not. And what of the other twenty maidens who go home with disappointed hopes of proving valuable to families that only care for their male heirs? We maidens must sit in our rooms wondering what we did wrong and how we could have done better because if we’re not bearing heirs, then we’re just a waste of resources, aren’t we? So tell me again how odious this party is for you—and how elegant your suit looks, my prince! Did you have it custom-tailored or is it a family heirloom?” Naran’s voice switched into a strained soprano as she caught her mother leaning in closer.

Hyungwon stared at the princess in utter confusion, and exasperation was setting in. As low and as sharply as she could manage, she grumbled, "Say something, please."

His eyes flicked to Queen Jigme only to find his father now beside the gray-haired woman, and, at last, he nodded. “Ah, um, yes, it was tailored just for tonight. I’m glad it is to your liking, my lady.”

“Oh, thank God,” the princess mumbled. If she could have wiped her brow, she would have.

“Would you like to dance, Princess Narangerel?”

What! No, no, no!

Her heart was in her throat and her eyes zipped back and forth for a way out though there was none. Hyungwon’s offer had been overheard by the ears that mattered most, and there was no way to refute him without the greatest offense.

“I guess I have to say yes now,” she answered quietly enough that the prince could hear her and her mother could not.

Hyungwon blinked his big brown eyes before he narrowed them. “Did I misunderstand something? That wasn’t what you wanted?”

“No! Now they’ll think you have some sort of interest in me. You haven’t asked anyone else to dance all night. You must fix this, sire.”

“And how am I to do that?”

Naran growled. “Have you never been to a ball before? And my mother thinks I’m clueless! Obviously, you’ll have to ask a few other ladies to dance to throw them off the scent or we’ll be associated with one another from here on out. Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Hyungwon admitted, the pinkness back on his ears. “You have me completely bewildered, my lady. All I wanted was to retire to my room for the night.”

“Well, now you can’t. We must dance and you must then dance with others. There’s no getting around it. How can you know so little of Court when you are prince of one of the realms’ greatest empires? Honestly, who raised you?”

Gone were any pretenses for civility, and Naran knew she had overstepped about a hundred rules of polite society, but she was feeling anything but polite.

Unlike her carelessness, the prince raised his glass to his lips, took a long drink, and said coolly, “You’re awfully brash for a woman.”

“And you’re precisely as thick for a man. Now, walk me to the dance floor so we can get this over with.”

The prince offered his hand, and Naran took it because she had no choice. Even so, she jolted at the feel of his hot skin under hers. His hands were smooth and babied and perhaps had never seen a day’s labor, where hers were rough and calloused from handling a bow and knives. She wished she’d worn gloves as her mother had urged.

Together, they waited at the edge of the dance floor alongside a dozen other couples, some married, some courting, but all staring at the unlikely pair. Naran held her head high and straight and tried not to collapse under the weight of so much perception. Neither said a word to the other as they waited awkwardly, hand-in-hand for want of any other option, while the previous dance concluded. The moment it did, Prince Hyungwon gestured for her to take to the floor, and they parted, her hand throbbing as she buried it in the folds of her skirt to dry it off.

Naran didn’t dare look back to her mother, especially knowing the Emperor of Goryeo waited right by her side. She focused, instead, on the billowing folds of the prince’s shirt and the flashes of his glossy chest that peeked through when the tie at his collar pulled taut.

As the orchestra reset for the next dance, the room fell silent save for a babble of whispers as rhythmic as the wind through the reeds. Her grandfather’s ballroom was large and magnificent, yet Naran felt the walls closing in around her, especially when she spied the old man’s sun-beaten, smiling face leaving the conductor’s side.

At last, the music swelled, and much to her horror, she recognized it as a waltz. Naran wasn’t good at the waltz. It had come over from the West, and she had only practiced it a few times before tonight at her grandfather’s behest in the hopes she might impress a Western lord. She didn’t expect it to be familiar to Prince Hyungwon either, but if he was uncomfortable, he masked it well.

She took the first steps toward her partner as he met her half-way. His hand opened, and hers filled it again as required. They met and parted a few times to the gentle melody before joining more permanently side-by-side for the next few bars. Once she’d gotten the flow down well enough that she could keep her feet under her without constant coaxing, the princess’s painful awareness of her predicament returned to her.

“Curse him,” Naran whispered under her breath, but since the prince was at her side, he caught her words.

“Are you cursing me?”

“Soon enough, no doubt,” she said boldly, but he didn’t take her bait. As they split across from each other for a series of inelegant hops that Naran had to meticulously count in her head, she grumbled, “I’m going to embarrass you, sire. I’m not very good at this.”

“You’re lovely.”

“I feel like a fish tossed on land. This is nothing like our traditional dances.”

Hyungwon hummed as his hand lifted hers aloft for her to spin under it. “What are those like?”

“Lively,” she said. “Noisy. Fun. Elegance and restraint have no place in Moghul dances. It’s a celebration, not a funeral.”

“You're a very singular woman, Princess Narangerel.”

She scoffed. “And there's yet another falsehood. There are many women like me, but few who have the luxury having of such a mouth or a mind. If you think all women long to sit at home all day nursing babies and picking out garlands for the next gala, you are well and truly misinformed, my prince, just as not all men think of conquering every surrounding kingdom to increase the size of their manhoods.”

The prince’s hand squeezed a little tighter around her shoulder before they parted for a fresh orbit around one another. “That feels like a very thinly-veiled opinion of someone I might know.”

“I have no idea what you mean, my lord. My god, will this song ever end?”

Hyungwon laughed. “It just started.”

Why wasn’t her brazenness putting him off? This was torture.

Naran growled and kept her focus hard and fast to her feet, which were supposed to be light and fluttery, but that heavy sensation stayed rooted to her stomach. “Is everybody still watching us?”

“I’m afraid so. You can look at me, too, you know,” the prince informed with a smile evident in his voice.

“It’s not a good idea,” the princess insisted. “I don’t want people to get any more of the wrong impression.”

Their toes met and then their hands as they completed the next turn in the dance.

“Which is?”

“That you’re interested in me,” she answered. Naran risked a glance up at his face and instantly regretted it. “It would be helpful if you stopped smiling, sire.”

Another turn, another kiss of their fingertips.

“I can’t help it,” Hyungwon said. “You’re the first entertaining person all night.”

“How can I convince you otherwise?”

The prince’s smile only broadened, and as soon as she caught a glimpse of it, she had no hope of looking at anything else.

“You know, I do know who you are, Princess Narangerel. Your reputation as a spirit-crusher precedes you."

"Ah, is that what they say about me? How delightful. That should be warning enough for you then, yes?”

“No.”

Naran scowled. “Then would you like to know your reputation, my prince?”

“I doubt I’ll like it as much as you like yours.”

“Oh, very true, but since I’m a spirit-crusher, I'll tell you anyway. You, sire, don’t speak until spoken to unless it’s a pretty serving lass with an ample bosom.”

Hyungwon pressed his lips together as his brow knitted. “Is that really what they say?”

“Indeed. Do you disagree with it?”

“I probably should.”

Naran smiled despite her better judgment.

“At least there’s no shortage of bosom on display for you tonight,” she added.

“Unfortunately, it comes with expectations. The serving lasses have none.”

“You’re as frank as I am, my lord.”

Hyungwon looked down at the princess, and there was a fondness in his gaze that she really didn’t trust.

“What a pair we make,” he said softly.

But what Naran lacked in decorum, she made up for with a hunter’s perceptions. Before her, Hyungwon had played the part of a respectful suitor until the amusement of the moment wore off and his true indifferent colors shown through. Granted, he had taken it up to the next level with this dance, but there was no reason to expect any other outcome. At least she could cling to that.

Hyungwon lifted his hand, and again, Naran was obliged to twirl once beneath it. The skirt of her deel flared around her ankles, stirring a breeze up her legs.

“You dance very well, Princess.”

“Your usual company is serving lasses, so I'll take that compliment with a grain of salt.”

The prince laughed, and the sound was so buoyant, her chest leapt with it. And then resentment immediately crept back in.

“I’m glad one of us is enjoying ourselves tonight.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong, you know,” Hyungwon replied. “This party is just as much torture for me as it is for you. You don’t know what it’s like to support the weight of an entire kingdom on your shoulders.”

“Shows what His Highness knows. I have no brothers, hence no heirs. I’m Moghulikan’s only hope for stability. If I do not marry well, our line could be overthrown before my sister even comes of age to do what I can not.”

“Then, you are right. I am wrong. We are in the same boat.”

Naran narrowed her eyes at him. “I appreciate your concession, my prince, but perhaps it’s time we stop looking so familiar with one another.”

“Now, that will be difficult.”

Naran cocked her head. “Why is that?”

“Because this is the part where the tempo slows.”

Just then, the music dipped and the dance shifted from arm’s length fleeting touches to a fixed hold. They lined up, hip to hip, the princess facing one way and the prince facing the other. It would have been the best outcome were it not for Hyungwon’s hand curling across her stomach around her waist in a way that hers had to mirror on him, and as he tugged their sides flush, their free hands met overhead to lock them into a pirouette.

Together, they spun like tops across the floor as the final movement wound on for what felt like eternity. Around her, faces blurred, but one thing was clear—everyone in the hall was watching them.

“I’m going to be sick,” Naran confessed.

Hyungwon held her tighter as he assured, “It’s almost over. Just look into my eyes, Princess. It will steady you.”

It did and it didn’t.

Those dark orbs stared down at her, framed by the soft pillows of his lids as he smiled lightly, and it was more dizzying than the constant spinning.

At last, the music concluded to a polite round of applause from the assembly. The other couples had separated to bow to one another, but Hyungwon still held her waist. Naran wriggled her hand free to hold her temples and slow the spinning in her brain.

None of this should have happened. It was just supposed to be a rushed introduction to get her mother off her back and the prince out of the running for Savior of Moghulikhan, yet here Naran was, breathless and antsy and side-by-side with any other princess’s dream catch.

“What do you say to another dance, please, your grace?” asked Prince Hyungwon, his hand hanging mid-air in offer.

“Out of the question,” Naran hissed, her eyes darting to the shadowy faces gawking from the sidelines.

Undeterred, he said, “Would you rather take this discussion into the hall?”

Her stomach dropped. As suggestive as it was dancing two songs back-to-back with the same partner, sneaking away was outright confirmation of an understanding or worse, an illicit relationship, and there was no way Naran could risk that, just as she couldn’t risk abandoning him slack-jawed on the dance floor for the gossipmongers and her very angry mother.

“Fine, but it ends after this. I feel like I’m suffocating.” The princess tugged at the collar of her deel, but it may as well have been a noose tightening around her throat.

The music kicked up, and once again, Naran spotted her grandfather leaving the band’s station. Instead of a rather suggestive waltz, it was a smooth and patient minuet that left far too much time for conversation in between the languid notes.

“Damn it all to hell,” Naran whispered as they circled each other. “You’ll have to dance with at least four other ladies now.”

Her partner stared back at her with a perfectly blank face. “I have no intentions of doing so.”

“Really, Prince Hyungwon, why must you be so obstinate? If you do not, then everyone will presume an understanding has been made between us, which will obligate us to marry. Is that what you really want?”

The prince shrugged. “It’s less loathsome than the thought of marrying any of these other royals.”

Shock took a backseat to outrage as Naran’s eyes bolted to his blank stare. “No, no, no, no, no. Did you ever consider that I do not wish to marry?”

“Am I that repulsive of an option?” he asked, and Naran could hear a hint of hurt in his husky voice that made even her feel a little guilty.

“My prince, it’s not a matter of marrying you. Perhaps I do not wish to marry at all. There’s no glamor in that, contrary to what the fairytales promise. It’s tedious obligation after tedious obligation, and excepting weddings and births, you’re always bound to your stupid castle. If I do not become queen, then I am free to exist as I wish. I can sleep until midday or bathe under a waterfall or stargaze on the open plain if I so desire.”

“And what if I offer you that same freedom with this marriage?”

Naran laughed. “You’re serious? Why on earth would you ever wish for a wife who cares so little for court or you?”

“Maybe because I have no wish to marry either, but as the sole heir to Goryeo, I have no choice. If I don’t decide, things will be decided for me. At least with you, I know I’d have my own freedoms.”

“But I’d still be expected to bear your heirs, sire.”

The implication was inescapable, and they both stiffened in each other’s arms.

Hyungwon nibbled on his bottom lip before he finally nodded. "There’s no getting around that, I suppose.”

“There is not.”

“I take it you never had any desire for children?”

“On the contrary,” Naran replied, “I’d love them, which is why I would never wish for the responsibilities of this life to fall on them.”

Hyungwon hung his head, laden with his own understanding. “We could raise them differently. Just as our marriage would be unconventional and without expectations, we could choose to raise any children we had as such.”

“You surprise me, my prince, and, if I’m honest, it’s more than a little tempting all things considered, but I think we both know that would be impossible. We may be at the height of our realms, but we answer to everyone instead of no one.”

Thin as he was, the prince looked heavy again under the weight of his tremendous burden.

“If I may,” Naran continued as she dipped under his hand for another twirl, “why don’t you dance with Princess Ophelia? She’s a quiet sort of girl from a robust kingdom and would likely leave you your peace while acting like a true queen when the time comes. My mother also thinks Princess Binh might be a good match for you.”

“You’ve talked about me?” Hyungwon said rather hopefully, and Naran swallowed hard. His charms were too pervasive.

“My mother did,” she corrected. “And speaking of, I should get back to her…”

Naran broke her hand from his and started toward the now-aghast Queen Jigme when the prince grabbed her wrist and jerked her back to him. She landed with an oomph in his arms, the sticks pinning up her hair clattering somewhere behind her. Her face was lost in the folds of his shirt and the smell of intoxicating oils like yuja and clove beneath it. She wondered if he’d rubbed them on his own chest or if someone else had had the duty of anointing him.

Her heart hammered though her lungs caught as she hoped against hope that she would fade into him like a shadow until no one in the room noticed her at all. But it was for nothing. The music still played, but it became background noise beneath the murmur of royal bystanders.

Suddenly, Hyungwon’s cheek was in her hair, his mouth finding her ear through her unraveling black tresses.

“Princess Narangerel, my father intends to invade Moghulikhan. Marry me and we can prevent this.”

It was just as Queen Jigme feared, and Hyungwon knew it. Naran was faced now with turning her back on her family and her entire kingdom with full knowledge and selfishness or falling in league with a handsome prince who promised to give her the life she sought anyway. It was no doubt an empty promise, but even if it were, the threat was now real. Knowing what she knew, could she really turn him down?

“Damn you,” she whispered back, her nails digging in through the thin silk of his shirt.

“Is that a yes, princess?”

“Yes,” she seethed.

“Then I will go to my father at once and arrange everything. We shall make the announcement tonight.”

Hyungwon released her and stalked over to his father, ushering him out of the ballroom and leaving the princess red-faced and shaking in a sea of jealous and shocked gawkers. The room whirled, and her stomach lurched. Everything Naran had ever known had just been undone in the span of two songs.

Her mother was at her side in an instant, smoothing her hair and thumbing at the rosy bloom in her daughter’s cheeks.

“Oh, my sun, you’ve made the right decision! I knew you would!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mother,” Naran insisted, hoping that her denial would alter reality.

“Did the prince not propose? Did you not say yes?”

“It was a dance. Just a dance.”

“A dance? When Prince Hyungwon has danced with no one but family in years? When his lips were in your hair? Surely, you jest, my child. No, this means everything. You have saved your homeland. Our people will adore you for it. Saran will adore you for it. When she comes of age, there won’t be a royal in all the realms who won’t seek to woo her. She will have her choice of kingdom thanks to your enviable match. It will silence at last the issue of heirs amongst our own people, for Goryeo’s backing will be incentive enough to dissuade usurpers until your sister can bear the next king.”

Naran’s throat was drier than the Gobi. She pinched her eyes shut against the onslaught of cold knowledge relentlessly bombarding her. “That’s just what I want—my little sister having to endure this nonsense.”

“She will not have to, darling! Suitors will come to her. She can marry for love or country.”

“She can have everything I cannot.”

Queen Jigme took her daughter’s face in hand and smiled warmly at her. “Who is to say that you cannot? Duty may bind you, but it doesn’t have to unmake you, dearest. There is something to your prince. When you’ve survived as long as I have in the world, you can see it. Only someone special like you, my Narangerel, can awaken it. Is Prince Hyungwon not handsome?”

Reluctantly, the princess nodded.

“Is he not charming?”

“When he wants to be.”

The queen’s voice dropped hard and low as her grip tightened. “Did he give you a reason to fear him?”

Naran pictured Hyungwon’s soft cinnamon eyes studying her as they twirled across the dance floor, and though her chest tightened at the memory, it wasn’t founded in the same kind of fear she felt when she squared off with a pack of wolves. The princess shook her head. “No, nothing like that.”

The queen let out a relieved sigh. “Good, because I would not part with you for all the alliances in the realms in trade for your safety. So, it is only your pride that holds you back?”

“Not pride, Mother. Freedom.”

“Do you respect the prince?”

“I hardly know him.”

Jigme glowered at her. “That has never stopped my daughter from making a snap judgment before.”

Naran didn’t want to say yes. That was the same thing as condoning the whole preposterous arrangement. And yet… It was hard to forget the gentleness in his cheeks and the calmness in his voice as he promised things she knew she shouldn’t dream of any longer.

“I suppose more than I do these other preening fools.”

“Then take heart, my sun. If there is respect, there can be love. You will want for nothing. There will be peace further than your eagle can soar. You have already done more for your kingdom than most rulers can ever hope to do.”

Strangely, Naran felt her heart in her throat. It was yet another promise that seemed impossible to deliver. “That presumes Emperor Gongmin will approve the match…”

Before her mother could even open her mouth to answer, Prince Hyungwon sped across the ballroom faster than she had imagined such a cavalier man ever moving. The entire party was watching as he bowed deeply to Queen Jigme before extending his hand to the princess.

Naran had no choice, she had to take it, and instead of simply holding her hand, he laced his fingers through hers so she had no way to pull away. His skin was hot and sweaty, but so was hers, and at least she could take comfort in the fact that he was as uncomfortable with this unbearable spotlight as she was.

“What’s going on?” she whispered. “Did your father not approve our arrangement?”

Even if the match had never been something she had wanted for herself, it would be even more humiliating to be turned down.

Worryingly, Hyungwon did not answer though he also did not stop pulling her to the head of the hall. There, beneath a fresco of a khan and his warrior bride surveying a battle from a mountain ledge, the prince stopped and tugged Naran close to his side. His hand tightened in hers, and it felt almost like he was using her to keep upright. She didn’t bother to balk because she needed the same.

Heavy footsteps approached from the side, and Naran lifted her eyes. Emperor Gongmin seemed to fill the room like a great balloon, puffing mightier and mightier with each passing second. All eyes had already turned to the front of the hall in anticipation of what the greatest ruler in the East had to say.

The emperor raised his glass to the party and grinned with a hollowness that Naran had yet to find in his son. His voice boomed across the room, even vibrating in the glassware on the tables. “First, I would like to extend my gratitude and appreciation to the mighty Toqu Khan for hosting us all at his beautiful palace this week. For many of us, this may be the only time we visit Kipchak, but it will remain forever in our hearts. It has been many long years since I have had the privilege of visiting, but I am happy to report this time has added a fondness for this charming land that I might never have anticipated, because it is thanks to the great Khan’s generosity that I can announce to all the realms that my son, Crown Prince Hyungwon of Goryeo, has finally found his future bride.”

A collective gasp filled the hall to its rafters, and Naran fought to hide her embarrassing tremble. As the spectators tightened ranks, she scanned the rainbow of faces to find her mother and grandfather watching with proud smiles. If they were happy, so too must she try to be. While she couldn’t bear to look at the man beside her, the princess worked hard to cobble some kind of smile together for them.

Emperor Gongmin continued, “Today, I am pleased to announce the joyful union of the Empire of Goryeo to the Kingdom of Moghulikhan. Henceforth, Princess Narangerel will move to Namgyeong to be with her new family, where the happy couple will marry before the whole empire. Please join me in wishing them all possible happiness.”

Applause thundered around them. For as many sycophants and saccharine grins as there were, there were just as many barely concealed scowls and glares, particularly a few other princesses Naran had spied talking up the prince earlier.

“To their many heirs!” shouted someone in the crowd, which was followed by cheers and more applause.

Her grandfather signaled for the band to kick back up as small glasses of clear liquor made their way suspiciously quickly through the ballroom, almost as though they’d been waiting for just such an announcement. The moment the tray appeared to her, Naran shook off Hyungwon’s hand to grab two glasses and down them with lightning speed before the burn of the alcohol could even sear her tongue. Beside her, her husband-to-be eyed her as he nursed his lone glass.

No sooner were the glasses emptied than the emperor had extended his hand to his future daughter-in-law. “Would you honor your new father with a dance, Princess?”

Without so much as the bliss of drunkenness, her body churned and her mind swam as Emperor Gongmin led Naran to the edge of the dance floor and dove right in mid-promenade. She could barely keep her feet under her as they waltzed through the line of raucous partygoers.

“What an enviable match you have made for yourself, Princess Naran,” the emperor observed as they ducked through a tunnel of hands.

“Yes, Your Highness,” she said tightly.

They emerged at the end of the tunnel only to add to it by joining their hands above them for the next dancers. Naran tried to keep her attention on the dance, but the beady eyes of the emperor were relentlessly demanding, and she knew in her bones she needed to rise to his challenge. She met his gaze head on, and the corner of his mouth quirked, pulling a crow’s foot at the edge of his cheek.

“I confess I have never seen my son so interested in his future,” Gongmin added, “which is why I approved the match without first meeting you. He appears genuinely pleased.”

“I am happy to hear so.”

They paired off again for a series of turns about the dance floor, which gave the emperor a chance to soften his voice further. “But I do not have the luxury of being so easy. My son has always been as prone to whimsy as he is to idleness, and this is all very sudden.”

Now, the alcohol was kicking in, mercifully giving Naran the strength she needed in the face of the Lord of the East. “Is that not how most matches are made, Your Highness?”

“Indeed they are, but I’m sure you can appreciate my desire to protect my empire.”

“Excuse my candor, sire, but I don’t believe anyone worries about the future of Goryeo.”

Emperor Gongmin’s hand squeezed hers unexpectedly tightly. “I do, Princess Narangerel, I do. So long as you commit to your new homeland and deliver the promised heirs, we will get along perfectly well. Now, I suggest you two revel in tonight’s festivities for as long as they’re offered. Goryeo always remembers to show its deep appreciation to its hosts, especially when they’re now family.”

The soon-to-be in-laws finished out the last few bars of the dance before they bowed to one another. As the emperor came up, he added with a softer, if disingenuous, smile, “You will make some very pretty children.”

With nothing else to say, Naran bowed again.

As Gongmin stepped aside for his son, he looked at the pair and said, “Enjoy your party, you two.”

Prince Hyungwon joined Naran’s side and offered her the next dance, but she shook her head. “I’m too dizzy. I mean it.”

“Would you like to sit down?”

“I would like to shoot you with an arrow,” she snapped though she took a chair along the wall and let her head rest against the tapestry there as she steadied her heart. “I hope you're happy.”

Hyungwon raised an eyebrow, “About the arrow? Not so much, but otherwise, I am, and so should you be.”

“You just blackmailed me into marriage. Happiness is the last thing from my mind.”

“You’re not the least bit glad to have settled on someone who will at least respect your independence, princess?”

Under the swell of the violin, Naran scoffed. “If you respected my independence, you would have left me to my plan of faking a deadly illness until my sister came of age. Then I could miraculously recover only to live my life as a spinster roaming the plains and hunting with my eagle.”

“You have a very elaborate imagination, my lady,” he said teasingly.

“It’s hardly imagination, my lord. I was set to contract dropsy this very evening.”

Hyungwon laughed. “You don’t contract dropsy; you develop it. Do not worry, the libraries in Changdeokgung are second to none, and they will all be at the princess’s disposal. You can pretend to contract all the illnesses you want when we arrive.”

Naran seethed. Thankfully, the folds of her dress concealed her fists.

“For all that’s just occurred, I am glad I met you, Princess,” said the prince as the orchestra wound down, and the tension left her hands at once. There was a tenderness in his voice that Naran almost let herself mistake as genuine affection, but either way, it made her breath catch. “This is the first time in my whole life I haven’t dreaded my future.”

He was being kind, and maybe it was even working were it not for the fact that it was the first time in Naran’s life that she did dread hers.

“I meant what I said,” Hyungwon continued. “I mean to give you every independence I can in our marriage. We don’t have to love each other so long as we respect each other, and if we can do that, maybe we can be something great for our people—and maybe even each other.”

The prince looked down at her, that beautiful smile showcasing brilliant teeth and lush lips. Naran longed to trust such beauty, but she knew those things were fleeting. Once the chandeliers had been snuffed, the silverware put away, and the spectators dispatched, only cold reality would encroach on them, and she wondered what kind of man her husband would truly be then.

[haunted-fae]

It'd been years since her elimination, and Dawn hadn't heard her old teammates since that night. Sure she and B met often, but he spoke through actions.

So it was a shock to her when she felt a familiar sting at the back of her neck. A soul whispering to her in a way it hadn't in years. A hand on her shoulder.

"Hey fairy princess."

----

The farmer's market held all sorts of surprises, Scott knew that, especially after years of selling his family's crops and meats. It was always a happy place to him, even when someone tried to haggle and get something for free or someone recognized him and didn't act so kindly.

Scott hasn't kept in contact with anyone after Total Drama, not that anyone would want to. When he was bored and lonely on the farm, he looked at their social medias, never reaching out because who would even reply to him? Courtney, Lightning, Mike, Cameron, Brick, Zoe, hell he even looked up B.

But that was for him to do while he was lonely at night, not when he was people watching at the market waiting for customers. He didn't blame them for skipping past, their fruit had gotten bruised on the drive. Still there were hidden gems in there. In fact Scott could spot one now.

Platinum blonde hair, still in the same chunky sweater she wore to Total Drama, it was like she was trying to get recognized, and she was headed right past him. She... didn't even notice him.

For some reason that bothered him and he quickly ran off, telling his brother to take over for him. He caught up to her quickly and grabbed her by the shoulder.

"Hey fairy princess"

"Scott?" He never knew how much he missed Dawn's voice.

[practically-an-x-man]

Special Delivery for Gia and/or Vivienne! (sorry it's a lot)

Appearance: 2, 5, 11, 19, Objects: 5, 14, Food and Drink 7, 15, 17, Weather and Nature 4, 11, 16, 18, Community and Relationships 3, 10, 11, 20, Mind, Body, and Soul 9, 13, 18 Hobbies and Activities 7, 12, 17

AHHHHHHH thank you so much!! And I think this is the first ask I've gotten for Vivienne, so double thank you!!

My Super Long Hopefully Fun Ask Game

Appearance:

2. What would your character wear if they were told they had to gussy up?

Gia: Almost certainly a dress, probably an above-the-knee cut (so she doesn't feel like it's tangling up in her prosthetic) in a darker, solid color (so it shows off the vibrancy of her tattoos). I could see her wearing a jewel-toned purple, maybe something with a peekaboo slit in the sides or up one of the thighs, and rose-shaped jewelry.

Vivienne: If it's out at sea, it'll probably just start laughing its ass off. Gussy up? Seriously? Anything that doesn't smell like sweat and fish is gussying up. While on land, though, she tends to dress pretty nicely regardless of circumstance, just because of societal expectations.

5. What are your character's opinion on scars?

Gia: They do still remind her of everything she went through, and that's painful, but for the most part she's gotten used to them.

Vivienne: Doesn't mind them, and they're part of the trade - though she'd rather they not be visible when she's wearing normal clothing, since shark-bite and rope-burn scars are probably pretty hard to explain for the otherwise-demure sailor's wife.

11. Is your character's favorite color a color they wear often?

Gia: She really likes that soft two-toned pink of a fresh carnation, and she does wear a fair amount of pink in her clothing.

Vivienne: I'd say her favorite color is that "wine-dark sea" color, where it's sunset or sunrise on the open ocean and the water turns this interesting purple-red color. That's kind of a difficult color to find in clothing, especially for that time period.

19. If your character had to get a tattoo what would it be?

Gia: She has a lot of tattoos! Most of them are botanicals or various insects :D

Vivienne: Probably a traditional sailor's tattoo, and it was probably a bet. It would probably get a sea turtle - historically, signified a sailor being welcomed into "King Neptune's Court", which for Vivienne is effectively how it became a siren.

____

Objects:

5. Would your character ever try to haggle?

Gia: Not usually. She gets anxious when she's away from the house, so even if she does manage to get out to a craft fair or farmer's market where she could haggle prices, she's more likely just to find what she wants, pay, and leave.

Vivienne: Oh, for sure. It's practically an art form, and haggling was much more of a common thing in those days than it is today.

14. Is there an item your character is embarrassed they own or want?

Gia: She's probably a little embarrassed at the extent of her home security, especially given she's just a single person running a marginally-successful flower shop with no major assets, but it makes her feel safer to have those measures in place.

Vivienne: Nope. It doesn't really carry a lot with it, since most of the time it's swimming through the open ocean. Anything particularly valuable is left onshore, or she asks Wojchek to keep a hold of it for her, but she's not a material person by any means.

____

Food and Drink:

7. Is there food that has made your character sick?

Gia: Ground hamburger meat. She's never been a big meat-eater in general (not a full vegetarian, just doesn't enjoy eating meat much), and it was one of the main things HYDRA fed her because it was a cheaper source of calories and protein to keep her going. No seasoning, no sauces or anything extra, just cooked hamburger meat on a bun. To this day, it makes her stomach turn, though she only vaguely remembers eating it while in HYDRA's capture.

Vivienne: Frequently... it's the 1890's, there's not much in terms of food preservation and especially out at sea. Sometimes she can swim out to a shoreline and find some fresher food, or even fish herself, but there are definitely times it's gotten sick from spoiled food.

15. What food or drink does your character consider a treat?

Gia: She's a sucker for gimmicky desserts like rolled ice cream or those novelty milkshakes that are impractically decadent, and that's a treat because it's something she physically can't get from home so she has to leave the house.

Vivienne: Any kind of fresh fruit or vegetable. It sounds simple enough, but when you've spent a month at sea and finally take a bite of a fresh strawberry...

17. What kind of drinks does your character prefer?

Gia: Iced coffee, peach tea, diet cola, or horchata from the Mexican restaurant down the block from her flower shop.

Vivienne: Honestly... I don't even know. I think it pretty much takes what it can get.

____

Weather and Nature:

4. Is there a natural phenomenon that scares your character?

Gia: Not really? She actually finds the weather more calming that anything manmade, I think. And sure, fire tends to worry her, but any fire she'd experience in the middle of NYC is by no means a natural phenomenon.

Vivienne: She definitely develops a greater appreciation for sea storms once she develops a fondness for Wojchek - sometimes it even worries the storm is a warning from Poseidon himself. And she's terrified of being caught in a feeding frenzy while out at sea (this will actually play into a future scene in the fic... once I write the fic that is)

11. What part of nature would your character most resonate with?

Gia: Plant growth, particularly new growth or recovery after a storm.

Vivienne: Just the will of the ocean, how it can be calm one moment and tumultuous the next

(funny, you picked 2 of my OCs that actually have very strong nature themes lol)

16. What celestial body would interest your character the most?

Gia: Charon (Pluto's largest moon). Can't explain it, she'd just think it was interesting.

Vivienne: Polaris. Wojchek taught her how to navigate by the stars, and that was the first one she learned.

18. How willing would your character be to nap outside?

Gia: Not willing. She has enough trouble sleeping in her own bed, at night, thirty feet away from her clover.

Vivienne: Oh, sure. She does it all the time!

____

Community and Relationships:

3. How comfortable would your character be singing and dancing in front of others?

Gia: Actually, she'd be fine once she gets going. It might take a bit to get her up on the metaphorical "stage" to start, but she could have a lot of fun with it after the initial push.

Vivienne: Totally comfortable. She's actually got a lot of confidence and bravado, and her persona on land is more the restraint of that than her persona at sea is the magnification of it. Plus like... you're asking a siren to sing. Its only hesitance would be whether or not it would hurt someone, but it has no problem with the singing itself.

10. Is there a habit your character has that they learned from someone else?

Gia: She will sometimes swear in Greek under her breath - she doesn't even remember that much Greek, it's just a habit she learned from her parents and grandparents when they were trying not to openly swear in front of the younger kids.

Vivienne: A lot of her habits while working on a ship are echoes from her first husband (who taught her to sail), like the way she does certain tasks or ties certain knots, and how she moves about the ship.

11. Does your character have people they think would worry about them if they got injured?

Gia: Kate would worry, she knows that much. And she knows her family would worry, which is exactly why she hasn't told them about what happened with HYDRA - somehow it's easier to believe they'd grieved for her and moved on, rather than having to see everything the experience made her into

Vivienne: Wojchek, of course. He's her husband, after all. And it's made friends with a few of his regular crewmates too, and it's sure they would express sentiment if it got injured (though maybe not complete worry)

20. What would it take for your character to get into a fight?

Gia: If she's attacked and there's no other way out, she'll fight back. Otherwise she's pretty nonconfrontational.

Vivienne: She's actually fairly mild, both on land and at sea. She can throw a punch when she needs to, but she doesn't have much of a temper that would get her into fights.

____

Mind, Body, and Soul:

9. Does your character have any allergies?

Gia: When she was a kid, she was sensitive to pet dander and tomatoes, but those were both mild enough allergies that her clover makes them basically negligible (though she still avoids tomato-heavy dishes out of habit)

Vivienne: Not that she's aware of.

13. How does your character relax?

Gia: She likes painting, embroidery, and crochet in her downtime, and watching cheesy movies :D

Vivienne: I think it has a real fondness for storytelling, actually. It started with her first husband, since he had no patience for doing the captain's log every night and would push the duty off to Vivienne instead (who found she actually liked recounting the day), but later it becomes weaving dramatic tales to rally the rest of the crew on a tough day. Wojchek has tried repeatedly to convince her to write a book, but Vivienne usually brushes the idea aside.

18. How often does your character have nightmares?

Gia: Very often. The worst part is that she doesn't even remember them when she wakes up, since it's from the part of her memory she blocked aside - it's really awkward to wake up crying and call your girlfriend in the middle of the night, only to realize you don't even know what's wrong when she asks you about it.

Vivienne: It's a mix. Most of the time she doesn't remember her dreams at all, but sometimes it dreams of how it became a siren, and that's... dramatic, to say the least. I'll just leave it at that for now.

____

Hobbies and Activities:

7. What is a talent that your character is proud of?

Gia: She actually thinks she's a pretty good painter, and she does a lot of still-lifes of plants or arrangements in her shop.

Vivienne: See above answer about storytelling. It's really proud of the stories it creates.

12. What kind of music does your character enjoy?

Gia: She's the most "pop" of any of my OCs, so... pop stuff. I do think she's pretty open when it comes to music, though.

Vivienne: She does enjoy a good live orchestra on the rare chance she gets to see one, and also really loves the energy of a whole crew singing shanties together. Really, it just likes powerful music, whether that power is a hundred expertly-trained musicians or a six-man band of tuneless crewmates. And sometimes it does write its own songs to include in its tall tales.

17. Does your character prefer music or silence?

Gia: Music, absolutely. Silence makes her skin prickle.

Vivienne: It's never really silent, there's always the sound of the ocean or the bustle of people around her, but she definitely prefers music either way.

[gingerel]

matchablossom | summer '13 - part five

Whenever Kojiro’s Ma mentions she’s heading to the market in the morning, Kojiro does his best to be awake in time to join her. Not that he’s particularly interested in whatever she’s picking up, but Kojiro likes to wander, hover near the produce vendors, and watch the restaurateurs haggle for the goods necessary to run their business.

When he meets back up with his mother, she has a basket full of her own produce, a wrapped package of meat and a bundle of pale blue linen braced over her shoulder.

“Pork for you and Kaoru,” Ma announces, shifting the basket over into Kojiro’s hold. “You can make pasta—show off a little.” She winks, and Kojiro flushes, never surprised but always thrown off by how blatantly his mother knows him even when he’s not telling her anything.

“Thanks,” Kojiro mumbles. “You ready to go?”

“All set,” Ma says and together they turn to wander back through the market to the entrance. They’re almost done, just passing by the last row of vendors when a sign catches Kojiro’s eye and pulls his feet to a stop.

Fresh Flowers Wholesale + Handmade bouquets

“Kojiro?”

Kojiro glances at his mother, then back to the sign. “I’ll meet you at the car,” Kojiro tells her.

— — — — —

Kaoru’s looking at his phone when he yanks the front door open, already talking without saying hello.

“…to the movie store and picked out eight things, so if you don’t like any of them that’s a you issue.”

“Why didn’t you just wait for me?” Kojiro sighs.

“I didn’t want to go out when it was—” Kaoru cuts off, blinking quickly twice when he takes in what Kojiro is holding.

“These are for you,” Kojiro says, feeling awkward as he pushes the bouquet forward a little. Kaoru just stares at it; miniature sunflowers, yellow roses, and a few other things the name of Kojiro has already forgotten. “You don’t have to take them if you don’t want—”

“No, I want them,” Kaoru blurts, snatching the bouquet out of Kojiro’s hold. He all but cradles them against his chest, ducking his head as though to smell the blooms. Bright yellow petals brush against his cheek. “I like them,” Kaoru admits.

“I’m glad,” Kojiro says.

“I just never expected,” Kaoru says. He looks at Kojiro for a long moment, before yanking his gaze away, cheeks just a little pink.

“Just wanted to do something nice for you,” Kojiro mumbles.

For a long moment, Kaoru stays silent, some strange never before seen emotion crossing his face. Then, he’s passing the flowers over into just one of his hands so he can bound forward and meet Kojiro on the doorstep for a kiss. Kaoru’s neighbours are notoriously nosy, knock occasionally to check on Kaoru while his parents are away even though he’s technicality an adult and has been being left unattended for several years. That doesn’t seem to matter to him now, not with the way he presses in close, tangles his fingers into Kojiro’s hair and shoves his tongue into his mouth. Kojiro’s sort of annoyed he only has one hand free to clutch him back, the arch of his back makes his waist seem agonisingly narrow.

“Thanks,” Kaoru says softly, pressing one last kiss against the corner of Kojiro’s mouth before retreating all at once, hiding back in the shadow of his open door. Unable to meet Kojiro’s eye he looks to the side, finally spotting the bag in Kojiro’s other hand.

“What’s that?” Kaoru asks eagerly.

“I’m going to make you pasta,” Kojiro reveals, smiling when Kaoru decides to half hide himself in the flowers again. “If you promise not to fall asleep during the first movie. Again.”

“I never fall asleep.”

Kojiro stares at him. “Shut up, you always fall asleep.” Kojiro doesn’t really mind though, it’s usually against his shoulder, Kaoru’s quiet snores more entertaining than anything else in the world.

“Whatever.”

Kaoru eats three helpings of Kojiro’s slowly perfecting carbonara and falls asleep before the two protagonists have even met.

[crystalrose555]

Slap me, I dare you! ch. 19

“It seems that fortune has smiled upon us.”

Nixie whipped his head around to see Lucifer standing with his arms crossed, Asmodeus stood by Solomon’s side, and the humans he had control of along with all the others were slumped upon the floor unconscious, leaving the six men all alone. The silence was then broken by a confused Leviathan who raised his hand.

“Um, what’s going on?”

“I think it’s safe to say that we found the demon we’re looking for.” Satan answered.

Levi’s eyes widened before glaring at the exhausted Nixie.

“Where is she!?” The third born demanded.

“Like I would tell any of you.” Nixie hissed.

“You have no choice in the matter.” Lucifer announced coldly.

Nixie snorted in response as he stared daggers at the eldest. Tension seemed to be rising higher and higher as demonic tributes began showing on Levi and Satan while Lucifer kept his calm anger. Asmo watched on nervously before clearing his throat to get their attention.

“Ok, we caught him but why don’t we all calm down, we don’t want to cause an incident in the human world, right?” He chimed with a smile.

Levi’s face twisted with disgust in response while Satan held his chin.

“I think that’s up to our new friend here.” Satan offered.

The room went dead silent while Nixie’s eyes snapped from person to person.

“You’re surrounded and there’s no way out for you.”

“Hmm, these aren’t as fresh as I hoped.” Marley mumbled while comparing green peppers to each other.

“That’s what you think.” Nixie smirked with a growl.

---------------------------

“I wonder if I can haggle a discount.”

Marley shrugged then waved over the vendor. Casually, she went back and forth with the seller while talking about little things that had happened to each of them. After about ten minutes of banter and small talk, Marley beamed a smile as she walked away with even more than she hoped.

“Stuffed bell peppers it is.” she thought with her mouth-watering a little.

Making her way over to the butcher, a sudden rush ran over her, giving her a slight tremble. It was as if someone had just unsheathed a sword from its sheath and bared its blade toward a multitude of powerful foes. She stumbled forward before shaking her head and looking toward the beach.

Nixie straightened up and turned toward the door where Levi and Satan stood. His boots echoed against the floor, stepping over slumbering bodies on the ground. Levi stiffened as he locked eyes with the approaching Nixie. There he stood before him and his brother, the moment before he spoke felt like an hour was crawling past.

“Maybe I should head home soon, the boys are probably back already.” She thought while she entered the meat market.

---------------------------

“Move aside.” He commanded coldly, his eyes glimmering a shining magenta.

“Excuse me, like he-”

“I said, MOVE ASIDE!” Nixie bellowed.

Suddenly, electricity filled Levi and Satan’s bodies and a thick fog filled their minds. Asmo and Solomon’s eyes grew wide as the third and fourth brothers simply stepped away from the exit and allowed Nixie to step outside. Once Nixie left the doorway, their senses returned as quickly as they were taken.

“What just happened?” Satan asked as he shook his head.

“Dammit, not again.” Levi grumbled.

Lucifer wasted no time and quickly left the building after Nixie, leaving his brothers and Solomon to follow after him. Upon getting back on the public street, the group began to follow Lucifer who was only a few paces behind the escaping Nixie. He was close enough for the two to exchange guarded words.

“Leave me alone.” Nixie announced glancing back at the eldest brother.

“That is out of the question, especially after that stunt you just pulled.”

“I’m warning you, Lucifer.” He growled.

“Or what, you’ll control my mind like you did with those humans? Let me be the first to warn you that my mind is not as malleable as my brothers.”

“Are you sure about that? Do you know how easy it would be to shatter that prideful sense of self you have with just a whisper?” Nixie sneered.

Lucifer chuckled as if the threat he just heard was a subpar joke.

“Let’s not kid ourselves. If you had the energy to do such a thing, you would have commanded me instead of my brothers. The same thing happened when you and I clashed in RAD.”

Nixie ignored him as he tried to get some distance but Lucifer’s long strides kept up with his pace. The density of the crowded street changed as the duo found themselves in a more secluded spot. At this point, Nixie stopped in his tracks and turned to face Lucifer. This gave the others enough time to catch up to them.

“So what will you try next, you’re not going to turn into that beast from before since you will expose yourself. Are you looking for a spot to open a portal?” Lucifer called out as he folded his arms.

“Something like that,” Nixie claimed before lifting one of his arms.

Nixie began to float slightly off the ground while being enveloped in an invisible wind causing his hair and clothing to sway.

“What’s he doing now, charging his special attack?” Levi asked cautiously.

At that exact moment, he felt a breeze caressing his face as his own clothing began to flutter. Confused, Levi looked down and let out a startled scream. He was floating over a portal that seemed to lead somewhere unknown. Lucifer looked around and realized that his brothers along with Solomon were hovering over their own individual portals. Wide-eyed, he turned back to Nixie.

“Alright, you’ve got a choice, Lucifer. Keep pestering me and Marley and I’ll scatter everyone here across the winds. You wanna risk never seeing them again, then keep testing me, even I don’t know where they’ll end up.” Nixie growled.

“You think I can’t stop you?”

“Oh I know you can save them but to do so, you’ll have to let me go while you close each of the portals. You better hurry.”

Asmo and Levi’s screams filled the air as each of them began to lower toward the waiting portals. Lucifer scoffed before casting incantations to counteract the teleporting maws. Nixie smirked weakly, this was his final gambit and the first time he tried such a feat but it managed to pay off. With each dispelled portal, he slipped closer and closer to the gateway that opened beneath himself. All he had to do was slip through, he knew that once he got to the other side, he would most likely pass out from exhaustion but it would be worth the escape. He went limp as gravity began to take effect, every part of his being was aching and on fire, and his breath was short and swallowed as he struggled to stay conscious.

Solomon, realizing the gravity of the situation, began to dispel portals to hurry the process but an idea came across his mind and he called out to the others.

“Everyone, hold on, this is going to be a bit rough!” He yelled.

“What the hell is that suppose to mean!?” Levi cried out.

“Whatever, JUST DO IT!” Satan screamed out.

Solomon held his hand out and claimed to the elements.

“Come on, kid, there’s gotta be something Big Bro Mammon can do to smooth things over.”

“Hear me, O spirits of wind and earth,-”

---------------------------

Gell recoiled out of disgust.

“Don’t ever call yourself that again, and the door is fixed, now get out!” Gell growled.

Mammon and Gell bickered back and forth while the younger brothers stood aside and watched.

Belphie sighed and raised his head lazily.

“This is getting nowhere, we should leave and come back later, Marley’s not even here.”

“B-But-”

“Yeah, Marley might get really mad that we’re here.” Beel brought up with a saddened expression.

“Y-Yeah, that’s right, real mad, so you all should leave, now!” Gell claimed, taking advantage of the situation.

Rem just narrowed his gaze at his twin.

“She’s not gonna be that mad-”

Before Rem could finish his thought, everyone in the room felt a sudden gust of wind above them. Looking up, they saw a portal appearing above them. A moment later, Nixie’s body fell through the void landing on top of Mammon who pushed Gell out of the way. Ignoring the fact Mammon cushioned Nixie’s rough entrance, Gell and Rem rushed over to help up the stumbling Nixie.

“Nixie, what happened to you!?” Gell yelled as Rem propped up the exhausted demon.

Nixie weakly opened his eyes and gave a weak smile while sweat covered his face and disheveled his hair.

“Boys…are you two alright?” He managed to wheeze out.

“Never mind us, what about you?” Rem added, struggling to hold up the taller man.

“Oi, what about me!?”

Nixie’s eyes snapped open as he turned his head to see Beel and Belphie helping Mammon to his feet.

“Yo, Nix, you ok, you’re shaking,” Rem commented while Gell help support Nixie’s other side.

Nixie felt fear engulf his being, he barely escaped only to land in a more dire situation. This time, the demons he wanted nothing to do with had found their way into Marley’s home. He had nothing left in his energy tanks but fumes and now he had to burn it up for what could be a final encounter.

Mammon, on the other hand, kept complaining to Beel and Belphie only for a familiar chill to come over him. He turned to see Nixie radiating a deep magenta aura around him. The young boys questioned the sudden action only to feel Nixie’s form grow larger and heavier. Soon they could no longer hold him up as he dropped to all fours, his hands growing thicker with claws. Soon his entire being was covered in thick black fur while his horns and tail came in proudly. Gell and Rem looked on confused as they held close to his sides while his back sprouted giant black wings that covered them protectively.

Mammon screamed before jumping into Beel’s arms.

“For the love of Diavolo, not again!” Mammon cried out loud.

Beel and Belphie stood firmly once they realized who they were facing. Nixie in his beastly form, roared loudly towards the unwelcomed demons.

“Yo, Nix, calm down, they’re cool,” Rem claimed, trying to diffuse the situation.

However, the portal that Nixie came from didn’t close as more bodies dropped from the ceiling. Gell and Rem’s eyes widen and stared as their unwanted guests multiplied from three to eight. Gell trembled as he gazed upon the crimson eyes of an irritated Lucifer who stood firmly in front of them. Rem took a look at his brother who began to tremble. Feeling the weight of the situation, the young twins clung tighter to the sides of the horned lion, and a natural sense of fear began to overcome their rational feeling. It didn’t matter what logic was telling them, all they knew was they were cornered and outnumbered, surrounded by demons with no escape in sight.

“I hope you know you’re going to pay dearly for what you’ve tried to pull.” Lucifer coldly announced.

Nixie only roared in response, puffing himself up to appear bigger. Lucifer stepped forward only to have one of his brothers step in front of his warpath.

“Asmo!? Get the hell out of the way!” Satan called out as he held up a portal-sick Leviathan.

Asmodeus didn’t respond, all he could do was swallow hard as he stared down his furious oldest brother.

“Asmodeus…” Lucifer uttered.

“Listen, I know you’re mad but it’s over, we all need to calm down.”

“Have you lost your damn mind, Asmo!? Let Lucifer take him out before he comes after me again!” Mammon yelled out.

Solomon shook off his uneasiness from the portal spell.

“I have to agree, this is getting way too serious,” Solomon claimed with a smile.

Confusion filled the faces of multiple brothers only for all their attention to be drawn by a heavy thud. They looked toward the source to see the large lion had collapsed to the ground. His wings flattened against his wards while Gell and Rem tried to rouse the beast back to his feet but nothing was working.

“Nix, Nixie, get up, ya gotta get up!” Gell’s voice cracked out while on the verge of tears.

Rem remained silent but it didn’t hide how panicked he was as tears pinpricked his eyes while he frantically shook the lion who panted heavily. The sight of the frantic children struck a cord in a number of hearts in the room. Much to everyone's surprise, Asmo rushed to the beast and lifted the lion’s large head off the ground and onto his lap, holding it tenderly. Almost in one instance, the lion turned back into Nixie’s human shape, his face was flushed red and his breathing was rapid and shallow. Asmo took his sleeve and wiped away the sweat on Nixie’s brow, shocking everyone who knew Asmo didn’t dirty himself for anyone.

“What the hell?” Mammon whispered out in the nearly silent room.

Asmo looked up from Nixie and shared a glance with the worried children before calling out to his brothers.

“We need to help him, he doesn’t look good.” Asmo pleaded.

Solomon came to his side and took a look at the unconscious man. The brothers besides, Lucifer, looked on in confusion.

“Uhh, does anyone understand what’s going on, I’m lost,” Levi commented while scratching his head.

Lucifer sighed, his shoulder loosening as his anger subsided.

“I’ll explain later, right now we need to do something about him.” He answered while holding his head with one hand.

“You’re right, besides Marley could be here any minute.”

“I’m already here.”

Every demon’s head snapped to see Marley standing behind them, placing groceries on the ground with a flat expression. She seemed to be staring through all of them and towards the scene unfolding on her floor. Nonchalantly, Marley made her way towards and through the crowd. Levi went to say something only to be shut down by an ungodly chill that filled his body. His brothers shared the same feeling as Marley finally got to Nixie’s side, ignoring Solomon and Asmo in the promise. As for the young boys, they grabbed onto Marley who gently patted their heads with warm caring hands. She gently shushed them until they could hold their crying.

“It’s going to be alright boys, I need you two to help me get Nixie on my back.” She told them.

Following her instruction, Marley was able to piggyback the passed-out demon. Solomon and Asmo helped as well but Marley didn’t acknowledge their existence. On her feet, Gell and Rem stood in front of her.

“Ok, I need you two to get my bed ready for him. Gell, go get some spare clothes ready. Rem, I need a basin with water and some washcloths.” Marley smiled warmly.

The twins looked on confused and gestured to all the strange men with their eyes.

“Don’t worry, they’re not going to stop you two. Now go on.” She assured them softly.

Gell and Rem nodded as they gingerly made their way through the crowd and up the stairs. Marley sighed and made her way to the stairs as well. The brothers instinctively reached out to help her but couldn’t work up the nerve. Instead, the group followed her to the bottom of the staircase and froze in place once she stopped and turned her gaze to them.

“I’ll deal with you all later.” She claimed coldly with an icy stare.

She then turned around and ascended the stairs, leaving everyone else on the first floor in silence only for Beel to break the quiet.

“I think Marley’s mad at us.” He claimed sadly.