#OC: Sweetpea
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Heavy Weighs the Crown
Chapter 5 - Plans Laid in Darkness
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Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader/OC, No Y/N, Politicking, Hail Kastovia!, We are learning to communicate, Soap is a good boy, canon typical violence, Konig (derogatory)
~5.2k words - MDNI
"Hello, princess," Kate says. She's using that dry, guarded tone that she used to use, before you got comfortable with each other. It's like you're strangers again, and not women that spent the past six years living under the same roof. It makes your heart acheâ She's family. Really your only family, even if you have no shared blood.
She's wearing a dark cloak with embroidery of dark, nearly invisible ravens and bright stars around the hood and hem, a midwinter gift from you and her wife, that you spent weeks working on. You can see the top edge of the thick woolen socks that you knit her over the edge of her boots. You'd mended and reinforced the pockets on her trousers countless times. Kate was always hard on her clothes. You used to tease her about it when she'd come to you, sheepishly bearing a torn out pocket or a ripped seam. She always made up some silly story about how it had happened, just to make you laugh.
But she stands in front of you as the Watcher, the spymaster, and not as your Aunt Katie, and you don't care for it one bit.
She tenses when you stride across the room to her, but relaxes when you throw your arms around her tightly. "I missed you," you say softly. "I wish you'd told me what was going on."
"I know, honey. I thought I'd have more time. John promised not to interfere with you so long as you didn't interfere with him or his men. He's never broken his word before."
"He still hasn't," you admit. "It was my fault. A bird flew up and startled sir Garrick's horse, and I chased after. He was sleeping by the road, andâŠ" you trail off, realizing what had really happened. It was too easy to forget that Kyle had a knack for illusion. He'd spooked the horse on purpose. "Well, he tricked me, and I fell for it."
Kate huffed out a laugh. "I should have been more careful with my phrasing. John is far too good at twisting things to his advantage."
You hum in agreement, turning towards the door when you hear a sharp knock. It opens before you can say anything, but it's just Farah, and not one of the men.
"Commander Karim," Kate says. "Good to see you again."
"Always a pleasure, Watcher," Farah responds, nodding politely. "I owe you a favour for the intel one of your ravens gave me a few weeks ago. Saved my men from walking into an ambush."
"No favour necessary. You actually helped me clean up a mess that same day." Kate smiles wolfishly. "My raven caught his mark when they turned tail to run."
Farah nods. âThen it seems we help each other.â
The two of them talk while you get ready, and flank you as you make your way down to the appropriate parlour, although Kate gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and heads off down the hall rather than follow you into the room like Farah does.
Thatâs always been her way. Youâre sure youâll see her later.
The Kastovian ambassador sits in a a chair by the window, dressed in a dark red suit. He smiles and stands whn you enter the room, Kate and Farah a step behind you. âPrincess!â he says warmly, hands outstretched. âYou are more radiant than I imagined you would be. It is not fair that John has been hiding you away all this time.â He pulls you close when he takes your hands, and kisses you on each cheek, closer to your mouth than is necessary.
âIt was my choice to remain out of sight. I feared my presence would be a distraction from Johnâs work. I worried hat I would be as well loved as my father.â You smile, and sit next do John. âIt seemed I did not need to fear so.â
âOf course not! Your father was a wicked man. You were not the one waging wars, your majesty. You were just a girl,â Nikolai continues. âAnd no you are a beautiful woman. Your kind heart is evident.â
âBeauty has little to do with kindness.â
Nikolai grins. âNo. Or I would be a much better man than I am.â He settles back in his chair and picks up his wine glass. He raises it, looking at you over the rim, dark eyes glimmering. âTo beauty and kindness.â
John hands you a wine glass, and you raise it in response. âTo good sense and diplomacy.â
John hums next to you, pleased with how youâre handling the ambassador, by your guess. He levels an unimpressed look at Nikolai. âAre you satisfied?â
âNo, itâs much too soon. I will let you know when I am satisfied, your lordship. It will not be until I speak to her majesty alone.â His mismatch of your titles is clearly intentional, meant to rile John up, make him commit a mistake. âBut I do hope to be fed first, or I will try to eat you up, majesty. Iâm afraid I have a weakness for beautiful women such as you.â
You steal a glance at Ghost, at the war mask, the visage of a skull glaring at the ambassador. You prefer the blank fencers mask, but you can see his eyes like this, deep brown, pale lashes catching the light. Farah stands next to him, almost comically small in comparison. By the forward tilt of the mask, Ghost isnât pleased with the ambassadors tone, and Farahâs disdain is clear. Both of them have their hands braced on their belts. It was probably a good idea to have them remove their swords before entering the room, although you suspect that each of them is still armed to the teeth.
The man standing behnd Nikolaiâs chair is similarly braced. Heâs huge, taller even than Ghost, though not quite as broad, and masked as well, with something that looks like an executionerâs hood. The cold gleam of his eyes makes you shudder, until a wet nose pushes under your palm. You relax a bit, petting your hand over Soapâs fuzzy head, glad for the reassurance.
âI trust your journey was an easy on,â you say, changing the subject from how edible you look. âYou arrived quite quickly.â
âLuckily, I was already on my way. Your cousin sends his regards, majesty. He is disappointed that he cannot be here himself.â Nikolai eyes Soap suspiciously, but says nothing.
âIf he were so concerned, why did he never inquire after her?â John asks. âSo many years with no mention.â
âPerhaps he was concerned that a mention of her would have you expanding your search,â Nikolai suggested. âHe could not not be certain that she could be safe with you either.â
âAs you can see, Iâm quite safe, thank you,â you say pleasantly. âJohn allowed me time in the country to recover from the stress of the war. It was very kind of him.â You smile at John, warning him to behave himself. It would do no one any good for him to scrap with the ambassador. âIt was good for me.â
âClearly. You were too thin before. Listless. And now youâre vibrant and lovely. It is heartening to see.â Nikolai continued to smile, not once dropping his friendly mask. âOf course, you were little more than a child when last we met. Perhaps you do not remember me.â
Did you recall? Of course you remembered being trotted out during the many failed bids for peace between your homeland and Kastovia. Nikolai wasnât just any ambassador, he was a prince, one of the younger ones. Not likely to ever take the Kastovian throne himself, unless his brother and grown-up nieces and nephews were all to perish. Not likely, unless foul play was involved. It was understandable, why he was so interested in securing an alliance through marriage to you, even though during those talks you had only been fifteen, and still too young to marry. It would have been a long engagement, but peace fell apart long before you turned eighteen, blessedly, or you would have been married to him, probably with a few children by now.
Nikolai seemed a pleasant enough sort of man, but there was something calculating in his eyes, like he was mentally tallying what everyone in the room was worth to him. Youâre not sure youâd care for a husband who kept such a close eye on his ledgers.
âI remember.â You give Soap another scratch behind the ears, glad to have the comforting weight of his big head on your knee. âStrange to think of what could have been.â
âIf Iâd known you would grow into such a beauty, I would have worked harder to negotiate peace.â Nikolai looks at John as he says that, but his eyes flicker back to you quickly. âI suspect you will make a pretty bride.â
âI certainly hope so,â you say blithely. âNow, why donât we move to the dining room? Iâm sure youâre very hungry, after so much travel.â
âStarving,â he says.
Farah makes a scoffing noise behind you, but manages not to say whatever scalding thing comes to mind. You make a mental note to thank her for her restraint later. She told you already that she has no love for Kastovians, but sheâs kept a cool head. Certainly a cooler head than John, who looks ruffled.
Both he and Nikolai offer you an arm to escort you to the dining room, but you tuck your hand into the crook of Nikolaiâs arm, since heâs the guest. Johnâs frown deepens, but itâs not your job to manage a grown manâs emotional state. Heâs a king, and itâs up to him to act like it.
Thereâs a certain tesnion in the air over dinner, summering under the light conversation. Nikolai takes a perverse sort of delight in saying things that are polite on the surface, and insulting if you think about them for more than a minute, although he directs all of these hidden barbs at John. To you heâs entirely charming, his dark eyes laughing whenever John leans in to speak to you quietly. It would be funny to watch the two of them have their polite little battle, if you were not the object that they both seemed to covet.
Johnâs possessive little displays are nothing if not an annoyance. You look forward to leaving again, and going home, back to your cozy room in Kateâs house, back to your chickens and your village and your routines. Youâll miss Kyle and Ghost and Johnny, but youâre sure theyâll visit if you ask. Ghost might even go back to his double life as a blacksmith, and you can pretend you never sussed him out, and actually talk to him, rather than just exchange the odd glance now and again. John will be much less free to make little visits to unimportant former princesses, and probably busy finding himself a suitable wife to mother his children and secure his bloodline.
Finally, dinner ends without anyone losing their temper, and the others retreat to the green parlour as you escort Nikolai to the next room. Farah and Soap stay by your side, although Nikolaiâs own guard is dismissed.
âI had hoped to speak with you privately,â Nikolai says, raising his eyebrows at Farah pointedly.
âCommander Karim is my personal guard, as well as my friend. She would soon know anything you had to say to me regardless, so if you cannot say what you wish to in front of her, consider holding your tongue.â You sit, and Soap settles himself at your feet, the very picture of a loyal hound. âNow, what can I do for you, sir?â
âYou should take me as your husband. Forget whatever deals you have made with John. Forget that idiot cousin of yours. I know wha it means to rule. You would not have to worry about any more wars with my people, or anything at all. I would gladly lift all burdens from your lovely shoulders.â He makes his bid standing before you, keeping a safe distance, wary of Soapâs sharp teeth. âI would treat you well, your majesty. Like you deserve.â
You sit back in the chair, eyes half lidded, giving no emotion away, although you almost wish to laugh at the audacity. âIs that all?â you ask mildly.
âWould you like more?â he asks. âFavourable trade agreements, perhaps, or land? My own lands lay just across the border, I could cede them to you. Name your desire, my lady, and you can have it.â
âI desire nothing that you could give me, except to deliver my sincere wishes that my dear cousin sets aside his ambition for the throne. John has made a fine king for these past few years, and I hope he continues to be for many more.â You smile, all polite restraint still. âIs there anything else that you wish to say?â
Nikolai looks at you, eyes narrowing slightly, his calculation of you changing somewhat. Heâs not pleased by your refusal to even entertain his offer, but not surprised either. âSuch loyalty, despite what he did to your father. How has he earned such devotion?â
âBy being a good man, and improving the lot of my people. There is nothing else I need from him.â
Nikolai nods. âI see.â
âI hope youâll excuse me, Iâd like to speak with Commander Karim. I believe the others have returned to the green parlour, if youâd like to rejoin them.â
He doesnât balk at the dismissal either, just gives a shallow bow and leaves.
âThat was the right response,â Farah says approvingly. âIf he though there was even a chance to gain your hand he would spend the rest of the evening behaving very badly. It would not look good if John or Ghost hits him.â
Soap gets up from his spot on the floor and trots behind a chair, the bone crunching sound of his transition filling the room for a moment. âSweetpea,â he says, his fingers gripping the upholstery nervously. âI think thereâs somethinâ you should know.â
âWhat it it?â you ask.
He swallows hard, blue eyes darting between you and the door. âJohn intends to marry ye tomorrow. He figured if he manuevered things just so hat you wouldnât be able to refuse him, but I think you ought tae know.â
Farah goes extremely still, her eyebrows snapping together with an almost audible click. âHe didnât tell you?â
You drop your head into your hands, trying to control the spike of anger. âOh, Iâm going to kill him,â you say. âI am going to murder that man.â
âI will assist,â Farah promises.
âI am sorry I didnae say somethinâ earlier,â Johnny says, shoulders raised defensively, as though he still expects that you might shout at him. âI shoulda. Sâjustâ Itâs Price. Heâs been good tae me. But yer so sweet, and you deserved tae know.â He looks a bit green from betraying his friendâs trust, but relieved too. It must have been weighing heavy on his mind.
You stand, and walk over to him, cupping his face gently between your palms. âThank you for telling me.â Impulsively, you press a kiss to his mouth, not expecting the enthusiastic response. He pulls you closer, arms sliding around your back, his tongue lapping across your lips. He kisses messily, without much finesse, but itâ sweet, in itâs own way, how excited he is about it.
Your hands skirt down the tops of his arms, finding the raised edges of scarring you hadnât noticed under all his freckles. Bumpy, textured skin, like there was sand trapped under the surface. In his wolf form he has bluish grey patches here, and running down his spine and legs. Did the pattern follow the scarring? Or was it just coincidence?
âNo kiss for me?â Farah asks. You can hear the smirk in her voice even before you release Johnny and turn around.
âWould you like a kiss, Farah?â you ask.
âMaybe,â she says non-commitally. âLater, perhaps. Do you want to rejoin the others?â
You shake your head. âNo, would you mind letting John know that Iâm turning in early? Since tomorrow will be such a busy day.â
Farah levels another one of her impressive frowns at you. âI donât want to leave you alone while those barbarians are here.â
âJohnny will come with me. And heâll stat with me tonight?â You glance at him for confirmation. âSo you can take some time for yourself, Farah. Heâll keep me safe.â
âHe had better. Iâll see you in the morning, princess.â She gives Johnny a stern look before she nods to you and leaves the room.
It takes a moment for Johnny to shift back into a wolf, but you step out into the hallway as soon as he does, resting a hand on his head as he trots beside you, tail wagging. Youâre quiet, not just because your companion canât speak, but because you have a lot to mull over. The initial anger has subsided into resignation. You should have known that Price would hear only Iâll support you in any way you need and not your refusal to become his wife. He really is the most infuriating man youâve ever met in your life.
You are disappointed in Kyle and Ghost as well, but you suspect that Kyle had been about to tell you when the ambassador arrived and John called you down.
The two of them are waiting outside your room, however, with sober, contrite expressions. Well, Kyle, anyway, but hereâs an unease to Ghostâs posture that communicates that he feels much the same way, his shoulders tense and head hung low, like a dog waiting for a beating.
âJohnny told me,â you say, because there can be no other reason for their guilt.
The twin exhales of breath almost make you laugh. âWe shouldâve told you right off,â Ghost says. âDidnât want to go against John, butââ
âItâs alright, I understand.â And you do, if youâre being honest. It would be foolish to expect them to take your side right away. That they are now still means something. âDo you think I should go through with it?â
Soap wuffs, and Kyle and Ghost look at each other.
âYeah, we do,â Kyle says.
You regard them for a long moment, and then open your door. âCome in, please.â They follow, and you close the door behind them. The dress sits on a form by your closet, dark green and beautifl. The cream embroidery makes sense now, you can feel the prickle of magic lingering on the weave. You dispell it with a thought, and the illusion melts away, leaving a white gown behind.
âThatâs that then.â You sit on th edge of the bed with a sigh. Soap hops up and curls around your back, and Kyle and Ghost settle on each side of you. âIâm going to be queen after all.â
âYouâll be good at it,â Ghost assures you. âYouâre smart.â
âAnd kind. Well reasoned. You care about people, understand them better than John does,â Kyle continues, taking one of your hands, tracing a finger over your knuckles idly. âI think the people need you. Shouldâve heard how excited Rosie was about you cominâ back.â
âI havenât earned that,â you protest. âI havenât done anything foranyone yet. I have no idea howââ You stop yourself short. Of course you have an idea of what to do. The entirety of your childhood was spent dedicated to learning everything there was to know about being queen. Itâs been your destiny before you understood what fate meant.
Everything you learned has just been shoved aside, locked away. Itâs time to remember, and accept your role. Itâs all a part of you, the good and the bad.
Even the crown.
âThank you for telling me, even if it does come a little late.â You squeeze Kyleâs hand and pat Ghost on the knee. âI do hope youâll be more forthright in the future.â
âWeâll âave tâbe,â Ghost says. âCanât be lyinâ to the queen now can we? Not even if John tells us to.â
âCertainly not,â Kyle agrees. âNow, do you want your hair braided for tomorrow? Iâm sorryâ About yesterday, Iââ
âConsider it forgiven. Just donât do it again!â
You do accept the help with your braids, focusing on sectioning and braiding thr front while Kyle works from the back, summoning a pair of hands that mirror his movements neatly. Ghost and Johnny sit close, watching with curious eyes.
It takes a whileâ Youâre not sure how longâ and youâre yawning by the time youâre through. Soap has his head leaned on Ghostâs thigh, half asleep. Ghost hasnât moved since he settled there, still as a statue. You thank Kyle for his help. Youâre not sure that your curls would be in good shape if you left them loose another night.
You stop Ghost when he says goodnight, tugging at his sleeve before he opens the door to leave. âIâve kissed Kyle and Johnny,â you admit. âAnd John. Would you like a kiss too? It only seems fair, since I wonât be able to do it again when Iâm married.â
âClose your eyes for me,â he says, and you do immediately, your face tipped upwards. You hear the shift of fabric, and then his fingers brush your jaw, so gently, holding you still as he leans in.
His kiss is almost unbearably sweet, soft and gentle, no push to deepen the kiss until you pitch up onto your toes to press closer, hands gripping his shirt. You can feel the scrape of stubble on your chin, smell smoke and cedar on his skin. Thereâs a slight dip on his upper lip, a scar that hadnât been visible at dinner the first night, with you seated on his other side. You hum, touching the spot with your tongue. He growls in response, crushing you closer for just a moment before he lets you go.
You wait until he says you can open your eyes before you do. The skull mask lets you see his eyes properly, and thereâs fondness shining out from them as he looks at you.
âGoodnight, princess,â he says softly.
You catch his arm again. âWill you walk me down the aisle?â you ask. âItâs fine if youâd rather not, but youâve been my guardian for a long time. Kateâs the only other person who would do, and she hates being in the centre of things.â
His eyes crease with a smile. âIâd be honoured.â
Soap stays underfoot while you get ready for bed, until you shoo him out of the bathroom so you can change into your nightgown. He whines outside the door, which makes you laugh. âJust a moment, you silly boy,â you scold him. âIâm not letting you see me undressed again.â
He sighs audibly, and thereâs a thump as he flops onto the floor.
The two of you settle into bed shortly after, and you fall asleep quickly, arms curled around his neck.
A few hours later, the door to the balcony opens, so quietly that you might not have fully noticed it if not for the way Soap tenses, silently wiggling free of your arms.You squint into the darkness, but thereâs not enough light for you to see anything.
âIâm going to turn on the light,â you breathe, barely putting any power behind the words, trusting Soapâs canine ears to pick up what you say. âClose your eyes so it doesnât blind you. In one, two three!â You reach over and tap the lamp, screwing your eyes shut against the sudden glare as you tip yourself off the bed and onto the floor.
You hear muffled swearing, and peek over the edge of the bed as Soap launches himself at Nikolaiâs giant, masked bodyguard, teeth bared in a terrible snarl.
You scramble up and run for the door. âJohn!â you shout, and then turn to help Soap, although youâre no fighter. You couldnât just leave him to deal with the man alone.
Soap is growling fiercely, his teeth sunk deep into the manâs arm, but the giant has a knife in his other hand, already slick with blood. Soapâs fur is matted down around his ribs, stained rusty red.
You grab the giantâs other arm and hold on tight, digging in your heels to keep him from stabbing Soap again. He shakes him loose instead, throwing him by the scruff into the bookcase, breaking shelves with a splintery crash. He jerks his arm to shake you loose as well, and backhands you, sending you stumbling backward.
You catch a glimpse of blood-shot, malicious blue eyes through the holes in the giantâs mask, and then a huge hand grips you by the throat, cutting off your air. He raises the knife.
A dark shape hurtles into the room, and the giant lets you go with a pained shout. You land hard, breathless, and John grabs you, hauling you up and putting his broad body between you and the grisly scene that is surely unfolding behind him. The sound of a knife cutting into flesh, over and over and over, the giant begging for mercy until he fell silent.
Itâs awful. Your stomach churns, but you manage to not throw up.
âSweetpea, are you alright?â John asks, pulling your attention back to him, gripping your shoulders just a little too hard when you try to look around him again.
âIâm fineâ Soapâs hurt.â You look for him and find him right where heâd been thrown, although heâs staggering up onto his paws now, blue eyes unfocused, blood still oozing from the wounds on his side. Shaking loose from John, you rush to his side, throwing your arms around his neck, pressing your face into his fur. He leans into you, somehow managing to lick your ear.
John kneels down beside you and places a hand on Soapâs flank. Blue light flares between his palm and Soapâs injury. âThere we go. Good boy,â he says softly, patting Soap on the head as he stood up again. âKept our girl safe.â
Thereâs a commotion in the hallway now, guards and servants and Kyle pushing their way into the room. You sneak a glance at Ghost. Thereâs a slash through his shirt-sleeve, and a cut dripping blood onto the floor, but he seems unhurt otherwise. The giant howeverâ You take one look at the spreading pool of blood and the mess of blood and bone and press your face back into Soapâs ruff, shaking.
John picks you up and carries you across the hall to his study so that the guards can get into your room to deal with the body. You look at Ghost over Johnâs shoulder. âYouâre hurt. Let John heal you.â
He shakes his head. âWaste of magic. Iâll be fine.â
âWill you let me clean it up at least?â you ask. âI donât want it to get infected.â
He huffs. âFine.â
John sets you down, but your legs donât feel steady yet. You lean into him for support, glad for the warm, solid bulk of him. He holds you until you stop shaking, barking orders over your head.
You press your face into Johnâs shirt when Soap shifts back into Johnny, the sound of bone crunching and tendons snapping a bit too similar to the sound of Ghost turning the giant into a bloody mess. Thereâs some kerfuffle as someone brings tea and supplies for you to clean Ghostâs wound, and John finally lets you go so you can get to work.
You focus on washing away the blood and dabbing stinging antiseptic onto the cut as Knight Captain Keller steps into the study to report. âWeâve had the ambassador confined to his quarters,â he says. âYou may question him at your leisure. Gaz is laying wards on the room to keep him from working some nasty Kastovian magics. Should I arrange extra security for the ceremony tomorrow? Or do you think it best to postpone.â
âExtra security. Thank you, captain. Did the giant survive?â
Alex snorts, and then glances at you, his expression a hair guilty. âUm, no sir. I doubt his own mother would recognize him now.â
Ghost flexes his hands. His knuckles are bloody, so you clean up that blood too. Once the door shuts behind the knight captain, he takes his shirt off to make it easier for you to bandage his arm. You try to keep your eyes from wandering over all his pale, marred skin. Thereâs so many scars that you can hardly bear to think of how much violence heâs endured.
âI donât think Nikolai was behind this,â you say, glancing at John as he sits heavily in his chair, running a hand over his beard tiredly. âHe has nothing to gain by killing me. I donât believe heâs any great champion of my cousinâs.â
âWhy do you say that?â John asks.
âHe proposed to me earlier, and called Phillip an idiotâ And with lands along the border, he would put his own territory at risk if there is another war. Itâs more likely that the assassin was paid directly by my dear cousin.â You wind a length of clean linen around Ghostâs bicep, tying it tight.
âHe proposed?â John asked, focusing on the wrong part of your words.
âYes, butââ
âWhat did you say?â
You consider telling him that you know what he plans, but thereâs something satisfying about making him sweat a little bit. âIâm not sure thatâs any of your business.â
âI beg to differ. Iâd like to know all the same.â
You meet his eyes evenly. âI turned him down.â
John takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly, looking relieved. âGood.â
Johnny huffs, staying uncharacteristically quiet. He looks worn out, the toll of shifting back and forth and his injury leaving him exhausted. Heâs eaten everything on the plate someone brought up, leaving only crumbs.
Youâre tired too. The shakes have finally subsided, leaving you with nothing, a candle burnt down to sputtering wax. âIâd like to go back to bed. I donât suppose I can go back to my own room yet?â
John shakes his head. âItâll take a little while to clean up. You can sleep in my bed. Iâll be up a while yet, Iâll find somewhere else for the night.â
You nod, and glance at Johnny. âWill you come with me?â
He nods, gulping down the last of his cup of tea. âAye. Keep ye safe if anyone else tries anythinâ foolish.â He folds himself back into wolf shape while you say goodnight to John and Ghost.
They bid you goodnight as well, although there is some envy in their eyes as they watch you slip through the door into Johnâs room, Soap by your side.
Soap sniffs around the new space suspiciously, and only settles into the bed beside you once heâs satisfied that thereâs nothing amiss, laying his head across your stomach, ears perked up, flicking around at every little noise. You tap the lamp and close your eyes, comforted by his vigilance and warm weight and the pillow that smells like John, warm spice and tobacco smoke.
You try not to think about anything else.
I'm so sorry this took 9 million years to post, I wrote it by hand in July and just did not type it. But the good news is that Chapter 6 is also written and I am dedicated to getting it done so expect that before the end of the month. I love you all, thank you so much for your patience.
Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 -
Divider by CafeKitsune - Flower Divider by Saradika-Graphics
#Cave writing#Heavy Weighs the Crown#Chapter 5 - Plans Laid in Darkness#Uh oh#OC: Sweetpea#poly141 x reader#x reader#x OC#John Price x Reader#John Price x OC#Fantasy AU#Oh Sweetpea we're really in it now
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sweetie peepers and anners
#i gave anya some pants that i actually own#only i forgot what they actually look like so i just did it from memory#oc: sweetpea#and anya#spiderart
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Sweetpea the Spectacular! Spectacular Sweetpea!! (WIP)
Larian let me make fat characters instead of just using the fat model for evil gross gluttonous villains challenge please [sob]
#oc: sweetpea#bg3 oc#baldur's gate 3 oc#baldur's gate 3#dragonborn#gold dragonborn#bard#bg3 bard#d&d#d&d oc#mallowdraws
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Wiggle Icons Part II
once again these are for my toyhou.se if you wanna see em in the field ^-^ for galar, paldea, pmd2, and hisui folders
#my dumbass miscalculated and i made 9 instead of 8 so um. rip xeron you dont get to be posted because i dont love how u turned out#nayarts#oc: acer#oc: gabbertrap#oc: icefire#oc: sweetpea#pokemon art#pokemon oc#cinderace#revavroom#charizard#purugly
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more art of my slasher OC, Sweetpea. He's got a real location now! (Rural Saskatchewan, to be exact.)
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I've only posted about her once I think so I'll take asks for my main character, Tephys, my Oath of Vengeance dragonborn pally gal :)
I also have Spectacular Sweetpea, my gold dragonborn bard that's for my friend's game!
BG3 Act 1 asks
I am intentionally putting the number of the inquiry at the end of each question also because I have a pet peeve that when you copy paste questions into an ask that the number doesn't carry over.
Tell us about your Tav! Name, class and subclass, race, pronouns. Do you have a headcanon for where they're from? Their family? Are they a Dark Urge? Or did you choose an Origin Character? Was it an easy decision? (1)
Was there something about the character creator that just couldn't capture your Character? Please tell us about their hair, facial hair, tattoos, piercings, disabilities, their trans or intersex body, or anything else you're comfortable sharing. (2)
Has your Character been using their illithid powers? (3)
Do you remember in which order you recruited your companions? Which companion introduction would have felt the most familiar / like home to your Tav / Character? (4)
Do you remember the first humanoid enemy your Character killed? Was it the first person they've ever killed, in your opinion? Would they have been bothered by it? (5)
Were you able to save everyone when the goblins stormed the gates at the Grove? (6)
Did you enter the Grove? (7)
Do you have a favorite member of the Druid Circle? Is it the same as your Character's? (8)
Do you have a favorite member of the Tiefling Refugees? Is it the same as your Character's? (9)
Do you have a favorite member of the Goblin Camp? Is it the same as your Character's? (10)
Do you have a favorite member of the Act 1 Githyanki? Is it the same as your Character's? (11)
Do you have a favorite member of the Zhentarim? Is it the same as your Character's? (12)
Do you have a favorite character from the Underdark? Is it the same as your Character's? (13)
Do you have another NPC you loved from a faction not mentioned above? What about your Character? (14)
How did the situation with the Grove, the Tieflings and the Goblins turn out for your Character? (15)
Did you save Halsin? (16)
What does your Character think of Withers? (17)
How did your Character deal with Wyll, Karlach and Mizora? (18)
Did your Character spend a night with a companion either the night of the party or earlier? Is it someone they have a continued interest in? (19)
How did you deal with The Artist - Oskar Fevras? Did you even encounter him? (20)
What are your Character's thoughts on the strange artifact that was in Shadowheart's possession? Did it jump to your pack because you changed her out of your party? (21)
How did your Character resolve the situation with Sovereign Glut, if you met them? (22)
What are your Character's thoughts on the dream visitor? (23)
Was your illithid tadpole empowered by anything in Act 1? If so, how does your Character feel about that? (24)
Did your Character take the mountain pass? (25)
What was your favorite enemy? Did your Character have any memorable fights or moments in combat that were ripe for headcanons and interpretation? (26)
Who ended up in your Character's most used party? (27)
Did you recruit Scratch the dog? Did you encounter him at all? (28)
Did you adopt an owlbear? Do you have a name for your child? (29)
Do you have other pets as a ranger or in headcanon? (30)
Does your Character have new or old phobias or superstitions that affect their story? (31)
What's your Character's experience with and opinion of Volo? (32)
Has your Character allied with the cult of the Absolute? (33)
How did your Character resolve the situation with Nere and the gnomes? (34)
Has your Character done anything that they regret in Act 1? (35)
Did your Character find the Adamantine Forge? Did they use it? What did they make? (36)
Did your Character find the Necromancy of Thay? How are they handling it / planning to handle it? (37)
Did your Character meet Barcus Wroot? How's he doing? (38)
What does your Character think of Raphael? (39)
Is your Character used to strange dreams from before the events of the adventure? (40)
Is your Character accustomed to being on the road from before the events of the adventure? (41)
Has your Character been to the Underdark from before the events of the adventure? (42)
Asker has a question not from the list. (43)
Asker wants Blogger to choose a question from the list. (44)
I love your oc's! I hope you're enjoying the game as much as I am!
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happy (early) year of the rabbit~ two of my dnd girls in bunny suits hehe đŻââïž
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đż đž sweetpea đž đż
#yall are eating good lately#i recently got access to an ipad so im going nuts on procreate#anyways yeah this is sweetpea/peas#shes another fluttershy next gen bc i am cringe and i am free#anyways#art#digital art#mlp#my little pony#oc#mlp ng#mlp next gen#fluttershy next gen#mlp oc#pony oc#pony art#also can you tell i have no idea how to caption stuff
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ball
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Everyone say hello to sweetpea the spectacular RIGHT MEOW!!!
The most cringefail bard this side of Hardbuckler!!!! Known for her achievements such as:
- raised by gnomes
- skipping her college classes (don't tell mom)
- unironically idolizes Volo
- Wyll's #1 fangirl
- kissing Exxy from the rivington general at this very moment
Sweetpea is the bard who isn't a bard. Mama wouldn't pay for bards college but she WOULD shill out for stupid wizard college [eyeroll]. Sweetpea is actually an abjuration bard enrolled at Candlekeep, but her real passion lies in the art of performance.
Sweetpea can't actually play the lute. But she did learn how to enchant at school, and used that basic knowledge to enchant a set of rings that allow her to mimic playing, while other spells produce the sound of her lute. One day she'll be the bard of her dreams, but for now... she's the queen of faking it till she makes it. Or until mama finds out.
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Heavy Weighs the Crown
Chapter 4 - Left Hand Woman
< Prev Chapter - Chapter Index - Next Chapter >
Read on AO3
Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader, No Y/N, Gryphon time, A spot of magic, No one knows how to communicate, I've given up on any semblance of reader neutrality, sorry, Sweetpea is her own woman and you are just along for the ride, Farah is here now! We love Farah
~7.2k words - MDNI
Someone sends a young woman from the staff to help you dress the next morning. Sheâs shy and mousy-haired, and you have to ask her what her name is twice before she haltingly tells you that itâs Tiphanie. She goes entirely pink when you tell her that you think itâs a very pretty name, and that you hope youâre not pulling her away from anything more important.
âIâve been tidyinâ your room, highness,â she says turning even pinker. âOr, um, tryinâ to. You leave things so neat thereâs been nothinâ for me to be doinâ.â
âIâm used to living on my own,â you explain. âIâve been in charge of keeping my own space tidy for years now.â
âOn your own?â Tiphanie asks, aghast. âBut your wicked father sold you away to the giants in the mountains so theyâd help him in the war, and they kept you in a cage and made you sing to them like a songbird, until Sir Ghost came flyinâ in on his gryphon and rescued you.â
Is that how theyâve explained your absence? You unwrap your hair, laughing. âOh goodness, no. I was living in a town not all that far from here. Out in the country. Not sold off or captured by anyone.â
âWell, then what was sir Ghost gone so long for, if he wasnât travellinâ through the wastes and fightinâ monsters lookinâ for you?â she asks, blinking at the cloud of tightly curled hair youâve let down, like sheâs not entirely sure if she should be doing something about it. âHeâs been gone three years, and then he came back with youâ If youâre tryinâ to put on a brave face about it, I understand, highness, but what youâre sayinâ donât make any sense. You wouldnâtâve stayed away so long if you was just a few towns away.â
Itâs a bit funny that sheâs so insistent that it makes more sense that youâd been held captive in the distant mountains than simply living your life peacefully close by, but you have to admit, itâs certainly the more compelling story. âWell, the giants made me keep my own room tidy,â you say, splitting your hair into three segments so you can braid it down your back in one thick plait. âI only had to sit in the birdcage when they were entertaining guests.â
âI knewââ she cuts herself off with a little yelp, catching sight of movement at the window.
You glance over, and itâs just Nox, landed on the balcony, shaking her wings out. âThank you for your help, Tiphanie,â you say, smiling at her reassuringly. âI should say hello to Nox.â
She nods, wide-eyed, and gives you a wobbly curtsy as you step out to the balcony.
âHello, my darling,â you croon to Nox, holding your arms out. She presses herself against your chest, making a strange, warbling purr as you scratch behind her tufted ears. âIâm sorry I didnât see you yesterday, pretty girl.â
If she's offended by your negligence, she doesnât hold a grudge. She hops backward and gently tugs at one of the loose curls around your face, cawing happily at the way it bounces back into shape when she lets go, wiggling her wings a little playfully.
âSweetpea, weâre down âere, whenever youâre ready,â Ghost calls up from the courtyard. When you look over the edge, you can see that all four of them are down there, sitting around a table you hadnât noticed before. âNoxâll âop down with you.â
âOne second,â you tell Nox, giving her one last scratch under the chin before you dash back inside for the book Kyle lent you. When you return to the balcony, she kneels down enough that you can climb onto her back carefully, and straightens up once youâre settled in place. Inky black wings spread out on either side of you, and she jumps into the air, headed upwards rather than down like you expected, her strong legs landing lightly and launching off the low roof on the other side of the courtyard, wings catching the wind. Your stomach plummets on her first leap, and you grip the saddle tightly, terror closing your throat tightly against the scream that builds up inside your chest.
Wind rushes in your ears, the sound of your heartbeat the next loudest thing. You take a steadying breath and open your eyes to a picture of the castle, and the city beyond, laid out below you, towers as small as a childâs toy blocks, the river coiled around the eastern bank of the city, glittering like a serpent in the morning light. Noxâs wings are huge fully spread out, and when you twist in the saddle, you see that her back legs are stretched out behind, her big paws tilting one way or the other, adjusting her flight the way a true ravenâs tail feathers would. She tips her whole body slightly to the side, starting a slow, circling descent, calling out joyfully, her rough croaks echoing eerily back to you, the sound bouncing off of the stone below. For a moment, it sounds like thereâs a whole flock of gryphons, rather than just Nox.
You wonder if sheâs lonely, being the only one here.
Nox settles back in the courtyard and sticks her beak in the fountain while you try to dismount. Your legs donât fully cooperate, and you slide sideways out of the saddle, the returned grasp of gravity unkind and unrelenting. Solid arms catch you before you hit the ground, scooping you out of the air with one arm behind your back and the other under your knees.
âThere you are,â John says soothingly. âYou want some tea, love?â
You nod, still too frozen to insist on him putting you down. Youâre not certain your legs will hold you.
âNox, you naughty girl, you were just supposed to âop down! What if youâd dropped âer, eh? Youâd be feelinâ pretty sorry about it now, wouldnât you?â Ghost scolds the gryphon, standing next to her at the fountain, his hands on his hips. She just uses her beak to splash water at him in response, which earns her a pointed finger. âOi! Donât you sass me, you daft bird, she wunât even buckled in.â
Nox deftly snatches the glove off of his hand and launches herself up to the roof, where she settles in on the tiles and pretends to gnaw on the leather, her catâs eyes wide as saucers, tail twitching back and forth.
Kyle offers you a cup of tea and a smile that's on the shy side. You thank him, realizing a little too late that John has taken his seat with you still in his lap, his arms looped around you securely. âJohn,â you say sternly, twisting to look at him. âDid we not talk about this?â
âI donât believe this was on your list of complaints, actually.â He leans in and presses a kiss to your temple, whiskers twitching as he smiles. "Besides, you're trembling. I know I behaved terribly yesterday, but all I want is to take care of you. Are you so afraid that you'll like it?"
"That's not what I'm afraid of. I think people are getting the wrong idea about what my presence here means, and cozying up to you will not help matters." You hold the cup and saucer a little bit apart, so that the rattle of dishes doesn't draw attention to the fact that you really are shaking, and would have spilled all over yourself if the cup was filled all the way up. Not that there would be any disguising the fact from John, the way he wraps around you. "You know that this will only complicate things."
âDid someone say something to you?â John asks.
You take a sip of tea, eyes tracking Ghost as he took the last seat at the table. Typical of them to invite you to a table with only four chairs. âTiphanie, the girl that was sent to help me this morning? She didnât say anything outright, but it certainly sounded like she expects that Iâll be staying. And something about me being held captive by giants. And that Ghost was gone for three years? What on earth were you doing all that time?â
Ghost shrugged. âTold you already. Was keepinâ an eye on you.â
âFor three years?â
âStarted off just droppinâ by, but figured itâd be better to stick around. Was.â He sits back in his chair and folds his hands together. âDinât âave nothinâ better to be doinâ.â
âYou did, actually,â John says tiredly. âYou were supposed to be the commander of my knights. Had to train Keller up for it instead.â
âAnâ âeâs a sight better at the job than Iâdâve been,â Ghost replies. âDid you a favour, dinât I?â
âWouldnâtâve found Sweetpea without him either,â Kyle points out. âAnd Alex is much better with people than Ghost has ever been. It probably was for the best.â
You glance at Johnny, uncharacteristically quiet across the the table. He meets your eyes only for a moment, and then looks down at his hands, frowning. You're not sure if this is because of yesterday, or if something else is bothering him. He sneaks another look up, and drops his eyes again immediately when he finds you still watching him.
If it is about yesterday, you're glad that at least one of them has the decency to be ashamed of themselves. Price isn't acting the least bit concerned. His fingers are dug into the top of your thigh firmly, and his thumb keeps tapping a rhythmless pattern against your hip, distracting and wholly inappropriate. Kyle won't quite meet your eyes, but he seems hopeful that you'll let it slide and forgive him if heâs careful to make no further waves.
You'll forgive all three of them from a distance once you go home. You want your life back. Youâll do a better job of seizing that freedom this timeâ you think you might finally work up the nerve to talk to the blacksmith's tall apprentice, with those coal dark eyes that always soften when he looks at you. Youâve thought him handsome for a long while, despite, or perhaps because of, the scars that ripple over his skin, and now that you know that he hasn't spoken to you because of Ghost's interference, you feel hopeful that he mightâ Oh. Of course.
It's choking, how tight a leash these men have put on you.
âWas there something that you all needed from me?â you ask stiffly. âOr can I go?â
âYou need to eat something, first off,â John says, squeezing your hip lightly. âThen down to the city to have that dress fitted, and to meet with Farah.â
âWhen I requested a woman to accompany me, I was anticipating a longer stay,â you point out. âIâm sure Iâll be fine without a chaperone for the rest of the day, donât you?â
âIâd allow that, if youâll stick close to me.â Johnâs voice is practically a purr, his lips too close to your ear.
You imagine tossing your cooling tea into his face, which is almost as satisfying as actually doing it would be, and freer from consequence. âI will not.â
He laughs. âThen Farah it is. Youâre angry with three of us, and I donât trust Ghost alone with you.â
âWhat did I do?â Ghost asked, clearly offended by the notion.
You sigh, and resign yourself to being watched. Even if this Farah person answers to John, youâll be glad for a few moments away from these unbearably pushy men.
âWe can move our little lesson to this afternoon,â Kyle offers, brown eyes hopeful. âAnd Iâd like to join you this morning too. Itâs been a while since I popped down to visit Rosie.â
âWhy not head there now?â John asks. âGet a visit in, make sure things are in order, and Ghost can bring Sweetpea on Nox in a bit, if sheâs up for a proper flight.â
Kyle gets up without objection. âYes sir. Iâll see you there, Sweetpea.â His eyes linger on yours for a long moment before he turns to go.
You lean forward to set your tea on the table, and push Johnâs arms away roughly, taking Kyleâs abandoned seat rather than remain in Johnâs lap for another moment. He smiles serenely when you glare at him from your new perch, as unaffected by your ire as a mountain would be by a single drop of rain.
You regret kissing him. You hate that heâs handsome and smug and insufferable. It frustrates you to end that thereâs so much of you that wants to melt under his touch, that thereâs a glacial, undeniable give to your resolve. Warmth spreads through you every time he puts his hands on you, every time he gives you that cheeky grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes.
He gives you one of those smiles as he picks up your abandoned tea cup and sips from it, his mouth where yours had been, watching you so that you know itâs no accident. Yet more heat curls in your belly, like the press of his lips against the rim of the cup can still reach you.
Hateful man.
You feel a little better once youâre sitting in Noxâs saddle again, pretending not to notice the way both Johns stare when you shift your dress out of the way and buckle your legs into the waiting straps. And when you wrap yourself extra securely around Ghost, pressing your whole body against his back, itâs certainly not because you want either of them to feel any kind of jealousy.
This time youâre better prepared for the leap skyward, and your stomach doesnât remain somewhere on the ground below. With Ghost to cling to, you feel safer looking down, even if it does still send a jolt through you.
The world spreads out below, distant and beautiful, like a painting with minute brushstrokes. You can even see a glimpse of green fields beyond the spread of forest, a near glimpse of home. It seems so close from here, but still far out of reach. Nox begins her descent only a moment later, and the glimpse of the far countryside dips out of view again. She didnât have to climb so high, but you appreciate that she did, that the gryphon is so keen to show you the world from her perspective.
Simon touches the back of your hands, where theyâre clasped tight around his middle, thumb running across your knuckles. Your heart aches curiously. You want to pull his mask off and see if youâre right, if he really has been living in your town as Simon the blacksmithâs quiet apprentice, if heâs the owner of the brown eyes that sparked warmth in your belly whenever he looked at you.
Maybe, if he is (and youâre nearly certain of it), heâll come with you, when you leave once more. Youâre afraid to ask such a thing, to test the weight of his oath to protect you against his loyalty to John. And John⊠Well, that was never going to go anywhere, no matter how much his kiss shook you to the core. Thereâs no sense mourning a choice you never had. He would find a queen elsewhere, and you would all be happier for it.
Just one more day. Youâll be glad to leave this behind, wonât you? Itâs not as though it feels like any kind of homecoming, to return to this cursed place.
There are a few shrieks from the street below as Nox swoops down and lands on the cobblestone, onlookers ducking behind carts and into alleyways, although all of the terrified faces relax somewhat when they recognize you and Ghost, and then fear is replaced with wide-eyed excitement, whispered conversations springing up around you as you lean down to unbuckle your straps. Ghost is faster with his, and hops down to help you with the straps on your other leg while youâre still working on the first.
He lifts you clear of Noxâs saddle, and the closest shop door opens. âPrincess!â Kyleâs sister, Rosie, rushes out of the shop and embraces you. Sheâs as pretty as Kyle is handsome, with a beaming smile that creases her face in just the same way. âGoodness, itâs been years. How have you been?â
âWell,â you say. âLife outside the city has been good to me.â
âI see that. I was so glad to see that youâd gained weight, when Kate sent your measurements. We always worried about you when you were younger. No appetite.â She pulls back and cups your face fondly. âYou really are a sight for sore eyes, my lady. It will be good for the people to see you again, to know that youâre well.â
Her enthusiasm surprises you. You had always rather liked Rosie, when she worked at the castle, but you hadnât expected a greeting like this, after so long. âI hadnât realizedâ I mean, my fatherââ
Rosie laughs, the movement of her head making the pile of coily curls on top of her head bounce slightly. âDid you think we counted you party to your fatherâs crimes? No, princess. Youâve always been loved. There isnât a soul in this city, perhaps not even in the whole of the country, who isnât glad to know youâre safe and hale.â
Your heart twists. You had expected indifference, that no one would care one way or the other if you were here or gone. You hadnât even considered that the people would be disappointed that you arenât planning to stay. Itâs one thing, to say you wish to leave to Price, but another to say so to Rosie, and a heavy thought indeed, knowing youâll make a speech over it tomorrow.
âCome on, in we go,â Ghost says firmly, motioning for you and Rosie to get inside. âKeep a look out, hey Nox?â The Gryphon makes a low, gurgling sound in response and sits on her haunches beside the door.
There's a prickle of magic in the air, but perhaps it's just Kyle, the energy that crackles around him wherever he goes. He stands next to a dress form with a beautiful dark green gown hanging off of it. It's off the shoulder, with pearly beads and clusters of embroidered leaves and flowers in a pale cream colour all around the neckline and the cuffs of the sleeves, giving way to beautiful lace. You think that maybe the colour difference is too starkâ You would have chosen a more subtle accentâ but you politely say nothing of it. Perhaps this is what's fashionable these days. You certainly won't ask Rosie to make a serious alteration like that with less than a day of lead time. You only have to wear the dress for a few hours anyway.
Rosie and one of her assistants shoo Kyle away, and start taking the dress off the form. Ghost joins Kyle on a bench on the other side of the room, his bulky frame taking up most of the available space. Another assistant ushers you into another room and begins helping you take off your dress and settle a few extra layers of petticoats over the ones you're already wearing.
The shop bell rings, and you hear Nox make a churring sound. "Hello," a woman says, her pretty, accented voice carrying through the space without growing too loud, like she naturally knows how to command attention. "Sir Garrick, Sir Ghost. Good to see you."
"Always good to see you, Farah," Kyle says pleasantly. âItâs been too long.â
âHardly. We never see each other when times are good, Garrick.â
âTimes are good now,â Kyle replies.
âHm.â
You twist to look behind you, thinking about going back into the other room to introduce yourself, and Rosie accidentally stabs you with a pin. âHold still, my lady,â she chides. âWeâll just be another moment.â
Farah pushes past the curtain and stalks into the room. Sheâs small, even shorter than you are, but she has a hunterâs lean to her stride, and a sword strapped to her back. Sheâs dressed practically, leather pauldron on her left arm pieced together with her bracer with a jack chain, nearly balanced on the other arm, but without the heavier pauldron, to keep her sword arm freer. Her leather breastplate is scarred from battle, but well-maintained, and a small hand-crossbow that glitters with magic hangs from her thick belt, along with a knife and a quiver of bolts. Her hair is braided back from her strong-boned face, and although her expression is serious, thick brows drawn into straight, unimpressed lines, her dark eyes have a curious glint in them. âPrincess,â she says as you turn, earning yourself another pin-prick. âI am Farah Karim. Iâve been told you have need of me.â
âJohn insists that Iâm not safe without a sword-wielding escort,â you say wryly. âI disagree, but his knights will hardly let me out of their sight as it is.â
âCould be assassins lurking about, my lady,â Rosie says, warm brown eyes wide and worried. âWe would hate to lose you so quickly, after just getting you back.â
You glance at Farah, and spot the slightest flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. âYou see what Iâm dealing with?â you ask. âEveryone thinks Iâm in terrible danger.â
âThe danger likely comes tonight. With their envoy.â
You tip your head to the side. âNo love for our neighbours, Commander?â
Farah huffs, crossing her arms and widening her stance reflexively. âNo. My fatherâs lands are close to the border. Iâve seen the worst of them. While you were locked away in the palace, I saw villages burned, people slaughtered, foul magics leeching life from the very soil. You would be wise to be wary.â
âI suppose itâs naivete to think the peace can last.â
âNo. It is hopeful. But you must project strength, or they will see that hope as weakness. Your cousin has given them leverage to oust John. So it falls to you to correct the course. We cannot fight another war amongst ourselves, or the wolves will be at our throats.â The challenge in her eyes is immistakable. Her perspective is valuable, and she offers it without pretense, as both warning an a test. Are you willing to listen? Or are you like so many others of your station, in your country and without, that only hear what they wish to hear?
âYou donât see minding me as beneath you?â you ask. âYou lead a company of soldiers.â
Her lips curl into a smile. âMy fighters are in good hands. Besides, Iâm curious about you, princess. We might have been friends, had our paths not diverged. Perhaps we still can be.â
âIâd like that,â you admit.
Farah walks back out to speak with Ghost and Kyle while Rosie finishes marking adjustments. When youâre finally freed from the dress and get dressed again, Kyle and Ghost are both gone, and Farah is inspecting some spools of ribbon idly.
"I sent them home," she explains. "I suspect Ghost will be nearby and watching, but Gaz has gone back to his tower. He says he will be there all afternoon if you still wish to learn magic tricks from him." She wiggles her fingers vaguely, eyes creased with a smile.
"I think I should. It can't hurt to try."
"No. And it will give me a chance to go over castle wards and security."
Nodding, you bid farewell to Rosie and her assistants, and step out onto the street with Farah by your side. Nox is still waiting outside, basking in a block of sunshine. She stirs, getting up and stretching like a house cat, her feather-tufted tail lashing lazily behind her. You smile when Nox settles into her stride behind you and Farah, sticking her beak over your shoulder. You hook your fingers over the smooth black beak. âJust us girls, hey Nox?â you croon.
She churrs in response.
âThe beast likes you,â Farah says approvingly. âGryphons tend to be disagreeable, unless theyâre hand-reared. Nox has famously bitten more than a few fingers.â
âYours too?â you ask.
Farah laughs, shaking her head. âI know how to keep my hands to myself.â
âAt least someone around here does,â you grouse.
âPrice?â she asks, raising her thick brows. âDo you want me to speak with him?â
âI donât think thereâs much point. This will all be over soon enough.â
Farah frowns at that, her dark eyes studying you sidelong. âIt doesnât give him the right, no matter who he is to you. If he cannot behave, I will gladly remove a finger or two to remind him.â
âReally? I thought you were one of Johnâs people.â
âHe may be the king, but I am not one of his sworn knights, nor am I a member of the army. He cannot command me, he can only ask if he wants something done,â Farah says, and thereâs something in her tone that tells you that sheâs had to remind John of this fact more than once. âIf I am to be loyal to anyone in court, it will be you, and you alone.â
âJust like that?â
âI have a good feeling about you, princess. I think your people need you, and you will need allies of your own.â
Your stomach twists again. Youâre beginning to doubt your resolution to leave. Maybe you really are needed here. Maybe you bring something vital thatâs been missing for too long. Maybe things arenât going as well as you had thoughtâ You have to admit, your perspective is still limited, for all that you were living among ordinary citizens all this time. Your town is a prosperous one, along a good trade route, too far from any borders to face any significant dangers. There has been little strife, no awful storms, no disasters. This canât be the case for the whole kingdom.
Maybe you should stay a few extra days, and go through the accounts and reports from the last few years, at least. If thereâs something thatâs been missed, you might have better eyes to find it. It wouldnât be such a bad thing, to stay on just a few days more. Especially once youâd made your speech and no one was labouring under the idea that youâd be staying forever. It would be easier to speak to people if you really were no longer a princess.
On to better things, as John had said.
Maybe thereâs a place here for you. Not as a queen, but an advisor. Something to speak to John about later, perhaps. Youâre sure heâd be happy for an excuse to keep you close.
But then again, maybe not. Itâs a bitter thought, but his interest in you is very likely just based in your lineage, your claim to the throne. He has no need to keep you close once youâve pledged your support to him. Better to send you away, lest you rescind that support when you have a large enough disagreement.
John is nothing if not pragmatic. Youâll be no use to him by the end of the day tomorrow.
And thatâs good. Thatâs what you wanted, isnât it? To go home, to be left alone, to take upon yourself a destiny of your own, that has nothing to do with where youâre from, and everything to do with where youâre going next?
âHow did you become a mercenary?â you ask. Better to think about something other than yourself before you drive yourself mad with what-ifs and maybes.
âMy father arranged a marriage for me, and I wanted to be a knight, like my brother Hadir was in training to be. It was an argument. In the end, I saw only two paths. I could do what was expected, but I knew even as a girl that would not be tolerable. I was too proud of my skills, eager to fight and defend people that needed me. So I took the second path, and left my home. I started off as a sell-sword, mostly caravan work until Hadir left his knight-master to come work with me, and the two of us started making a name.â She gives you a wry smile. âMy parents were none too pleased with Hadir either. But they still speak to him.â
âYou donât talk to them at all?â
âOnce in a while they send me a letter to remind me that the man who wished to marry me still hasnât found another. That heâs still open to the match.â She rolls her eyes. âI think if he hasnât been able to find a wife in all this time, thereâs a reason for it.â
You laugh lightly. She has a good point.
By the time the two of you meander back to the palace, you do feel like youâre fast friends. Farah has a way of opening up without having to say much at all, her dark, pretty eyes sincere. Maybe it's something shared between you, not words exchanged, but who you both expected to become, how you both were raised to be something you wanted no part of. Farah is bolder than you, decisive and candle-quick, and you are a slow trickle of water, always taking the path of least resistance, but somehow you were both born of the same stuff. You understand each other.
Nox flies off when you reach the castle gates, and Farah and you split at the foot of Gaz's tower, her off to meet with the knight commander, and you to see if there's anything that you can learn. The book that Gaz had lent to you had been easy reading, especially with the annotations in his neat, scratchy writing, and the first two chapters had been more reminder of what you already knew. The third was about disrupting and dispelling magic, which seemed like it would be a useful place to start your lessons. Even if you expect that greater magics will be beyond your grasp, you can protect yourself by disrupting spells used against you.
By the time you reach the workshop door, youâre a bit warm and out of breath, the countless spiraling steps more effort than youâd like to admit, especially after a walk through the city. Why Kyle liked it was apparent just from looking at him, but you have a softer physique, and youâve become quite unused to stairs over the years away from the castle. There are very few buildings taller than two stories back in town. You halt outside the door to catch your breath, glancing out the narrow window, through the slight warping of uneven glass panes.
âIsna right, Gaz, and even ye know it!â Soapâs heated voice seeps through the door. Kyleâs response is too low to make out, but Soapâs next words are clear. âShe deserves better! Been nothinâ but kind to us.â
âSheâll get over it, Soap. You know itâs for the best.â
âThe best for himself, sure, but I dinnae ken if itâs best for her.â
You sigh, torn between the impulse to eavesdrop and knowing that itâs wrong to do so. Itâs not difficult to surmise that theyâre talking about you. It would explain the look on Johnnyâs face this morning and the feeling that things are not quite right that has been worrying at you all day. Perhaps John does intend to make you stay on in some capacity, to prop up his rule, which would be contrary to everything youâve said you want. It wouldnât be all that difficult to get the truth of the matter out of Soap later howeverâ He seems uncomfortable with any level of duplicity.
The knock on the door silences the low, indecipherable sound of Kyleâs response. You rub your knuckles idly as the door opens, the tingle of magic clinging to your skin like cobwebs.
âHello, Sweetpea.â Kyle greets you with a big smile. âIâm glad you decided to come up. Did you get through the reading I gave you?â He throws a look over his shoulder at Soap that cleary says go away.
âI did. I read through the first three chaptersâ I was wondering if we could focus on dispelling magic? Iâm familiar enough with the bare basics, and if Iâm only going to have time for one lesson, this seems like a good place to focus.â You reach out to brush Soapâs shoulder as he moves past you. âCan we talk later?â
âOf course, bonnie,â Soap says. âIâm always at yer service.â
âIf you go find Farah, she might appreciate any insights you have on castle security. I think she went to speak with the knight commander.â
âAye, could be helpful there. Goâ a nose for these things.â He taps his nose, his grin tinged with relief that you donât seem angry with him for yesterday. âWeâll talk later, then.â
You step into the workshop and he steps out, and Kyle closes the door between you. âDispelling magic could be a good place to start⊠How are you at sensing magic? If you have a natural affinity for it we can breeze past the first half of the lesson.â He takes your hand and gently pulls you over to the circle of iridescent stone.
âI think I mightâ I get this prickle when thereâs magic around. I canât say I always notice it, but I havenât always thought to pay attention.â You sit on the ground inside the circle, noticing the way the buzz of the workshop fades away once youâre fully inside it. âIâve been paying more attention here. More magic to notice, I suppose.â
âAnd a new environment.â Kyle says. âItâs easy to get used to the ambient magic in familiar spaces. Youâll get more attuned to the castle the longer you stay.â
âI hope so. I get all tingly whenever weâre in a room together,â you say, laughing lightly.
He settles down across from you, close enough that his knees nearly touch yours. âYou sure thatâs just the magic?â he asks, flashing his pretty smile at you. âIt could be something else.â
âCould it?â You give him a smile in return, but yours is sharp around the edges, reminding him to mind himself. Youâve gotten a little weary of the flirtingâ Itâs more Johnâs fault than it is his, admittedly, but youâre just tired of all the attention. You donât want to flirt, even if he is the most beautiful man youâve ever seen, and even if you really do like him plenty. You just want to learn a bit of magic, and it would be nice if he could focus. âOr do you think that maybe being handsome has skewed your perspective to think that every young man and woman you meet is attracted to you?â
âCould be that,â he agrees, unperturbed. âBut no matter. Lets get to work.â
He runs through some breathing exercises, half-familiar ones that you remember the old wizard making you do for hours on end. Luckily Gaz seems satisfied with your control, and moves on quickly.
He asks you to keep your eyes closed while he sketches runes in the air, asking you to identify them. âIt will help you sense when someone is sending a spell your way, or using magic in your vicinity,â he explains. âKnowing whatâs going on is the first step to knowing how to dispel it.â
The first rune feels warm, and tastes oddly of smoke. âFire,â you say easily. Kyle hums with approval, and sketches a new one. Itâs cool, and drips down your spine. âWater?â
âGood. This one should be a bit trickier.â
Itâs not. Youâre familiar with light spells, you come across them more often than almost anything else. âLight.â
He runs through a few more. Earth, ice, moon, sun, shadow, music, metal, lock, key. All components of spells, and not spells on their own, each one leaving impressions on your skin, tastes on your tongue. Kyle seems more and more impressed as he works through his list, and youâre both laughing before long, enjoying a lesson that feels more like a game. âYou have a knack for this. Figures the old wizard couldnât see your talentâ I had to fight him to get him to take me seriously too.â He clicks his tongue thoughtfully. âLetâs see⊠We can try an actual spell now. You can open your eyes, if you like.â
You open your eyes to look at him, pleased that he thinks youâre doing well. He smiles so prettily at you that at first you donât notice the way magic curls around you, sliding up your neck like warm hands. Youâre too distracted by the way Kyle smells, cedar and spice and ink and paper, the little scar just below his cheekbone, his wide hazel eyes fringed by thick lashes, the soft curve of his lips⊠Youâve always thought him handsome of course, you have eyes after all, but youâve never wanted to kiss him so badly before.
Itâs a charm spell. Something harmless for you to practice shredding apart. It makes sense for him to throw something innocuous at you, but heâs misjudged how much you already like him, and the charm is throwing you well past friendly suggestibility to wanting so badly that your hands tremble.
Knowing what it is, itâs easy to see how to unravel it, but you donât really care to. It gives you an excuse to do something you want to do anyway. You pitch onto your knees and lean forward, bracing your hands on his thighs. His sweet, forest brown eyes widen with surprise, and he catches your face between his pretty, long-fingered hands, holding you back before you can kiss him.
âWait,â he says quickly, his voice a quiet, anxious rasp. âItâs a charm spell, Sweetpea, I didnât meanâ You donât really want to kiss me.â His fingers curl around your neck, like heâs fighting every instinct in him to hold you away and not draw you closer.
âYes I do,â you say. âI just want to blame it on the spell.â
âProve it,â he says.
Itâs as simple as pulling a loose thread from knitting, unraveling magic that tastes sweet as fine white sugar on your tongue. Your cheeks burn, embarrassment settling in your stomach heavily. You should probably still be angry with him, you shouldnât be thinking about how plush his mouth looks, or about how his pretty eyes fix on yours intently, the fire that he hides so neatly behind his quick-wit and natural charm rising to the surface. But you donât move, and neither does he.
âWe probably shouldnât,â you say softly.
âProbably not,â he agrees.
And still, neither one of you tries to move away. He wets his lips, his gaze settling on your mouth. You swallow nervously. âKyleââ
âHells,â he says, angling his head slightly and closing the distance, slow enough that you could pull away, but quickly enough that he wonât lose his nerve halfway. His mouth is as soft as you anticipated, lips sliding over yours slow and sweet.
You move closer, and Kyle shifts his legs to either side of your knees to give you enough room, hands sliding down to your waist. You hum against his mouth, wrapping your arms around his solid shoulders. He kisses you for a long while before his tongue slips between your lips. He licks into your mouth, moaning, and the sound is just as pretty as he is, sending honey-sweet arousal through your veins to pool deep in your belly.
It would be easy to kiss Kyle foreverâ He makes no demands, keeps his hands on your waist or curled around your back, toying with, but making no attempt to undo, the buttons that march up your spine. He feels safe, and you know that he wonât push you for more, the way John would. Kyle keeps himself in check, holds himself back. It makes you all the more ready to melt for him.
Itâs several long moments before he pulls back, lips swollen and eyes hot and hazy like a summer afternoon. âPrincess,â he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw. âI need to tell you something.â
Thereâs a soft chime from his desk, and Johnâs voice speaks into the workroom, as clear as if he were right there with you both. Kyle freezes, a hound caught with his nose somewhere it shouldnât have been, hands tightening on your hips.
âGaz? Is Sweetpea still with you?â
Kyle clears his throat. He looks at you so guiltily, you almost feel like youâre the one thatâs done something wrong. âUm. Yes sir.â
âGood. The Lyudireki ambassador is here, and Kate too, if youâd like to speak with her before you join us, Sweetpea. I believe sheâs gone to your room to wait for you.âJohnâs voice sounds amused. It makes Kyle nervous, if his grip is anything to go by. âGaz, Iâd like you to find Soap, and bring him to the green parlour. He can be a wolf, if he likes. Itâs up to him.â
âYes sir. Weâll be down in a minute.â The chime sounds a second time, and Kyle relaxes slightly. âOld man has terrible timing. Come on, Sweetpea. Weâd better get to it.â
He stands and pulls you up along with him. "You didn't do anything wrong," you remind him gently. "I kissed you."
"No, I kissed you, Sweetpea. And it's my fault you wanted to. You wouldn't have if I hadn't charmed you." He sighed. "Price is going toâ"
"Kyle, I can kiss anyone I want," you say stiffly. You resent the implication that a Price owns you, that he has any say in who you kiss or what you do.
"Well. I suppose so," he says doubtfully. "But we should go. You'll want to speak with Kate, yeah?"
Your stomach churns slightly. Kate has been notably absent for all this time, conveniently unavailable to explain. She knew. She knew everything, and didn't give you so much as a heads up. "Yes. I have some questions I'd like answered."
"Don't be too hard on her," Kyle said. "John didn't give her a choice."
"Everyone always has choices, Kyle. She should have told me what was going on."
"Would you have done things differently if she had?"
"What could be done differently? I'm not the foolish little girl everyone seems to think I am. I understand my position in all this better than anyone."
Kyle seems to have to response to that. Heâs quiet all the way down the stairs, lost in his thoughts. You let him stay there.
It would be nice if everyone wasn't too afraid of what John might do or say to be honest with you. Although you do know that loyalty like he demands from his men isn't born from fear alone, or your father would never have been deposed. Thereâs love there too, and real trust.
Kyle leaves you at your door with a lingering kiss. You try not to blame him for the way his eyes dart down the hall before he does so, even if it makes you want to shove him away. You offer him a small smile instead, and step into your room.
Thanks for your patience everyone! I know it took me a hot minute to get this chapter out, but we're back, baby! And we're kissing Kyle about it.
Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 -
Divider by CafeKitsune - Flower Divider by Saradika-Graphics
#Cave writing#Heavy Weighs the Crown#Cod mw fanfiction#fantasy au#OC: Sweetpea#x reader#Poly 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#Farah baby I'm so glad you made it kick your boots off and stay a while#It's getting pretty obvious what's going on here but sadly Sweetpea believes in the good in others#So she hasn't fully clocked it herself yet#These chapters keep getting longer and longer fr
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i see this guy at every hoedown
#lethal company oc#bracken oc#hes Like This because he met sweetpea ->#oc: sweetpea#and she played western swing for him and he loved it and now hes an honorary texan#she named him tex#he has moon tats for a specific reason but i dont wanna get into it#its mostly lore thats just For Me#just dont worry about it#oc: tex#spiderart
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some bg3 sketches from today :) trying to re learn how to draw humanoids
also feat. dragonborn yuri with my oc sweetpea and exxvikyap (rivington general dragonborn)
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#bg3 lae'zel#lae'zel#bg3 dammon#bg3 shadowheart#shadowheart#oc: sweetpea#bg3 exxvikyap#bg3 oc
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I'm new to the game still (joined in March) but I think the snappers are very cute !!! I got gifted one from the wonderful @flocksis in the image of my BG3 bard, Sweetpea, and I love her. AND she's dressed swagtastically if I do say so myself
I feel like u should have a minimum of 3 snappers in your lair (minimum 1 m pose) to be able to talk abt them, i dont wanna hear anyones opinion on them if they dont own them anymore
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a pretty kitty
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Switching things up with Sweet Pea. Unassuming bartender who doubles as her own bouncer? đ€đł
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