#One Ace demanded a chance to calm her husband

[thundertide-a]

@yoroiis from HERE

Though he’d done little more than complain, Ace couldn’t help but smile wider, resting her chin on his shoulder. She’d asked, after all - And even past that, the fact he’d been so vocal with him problems told her exactly one thing: He trusted her with them. He didn’t mind venting to her, trusted her to hear him out and possible help with his problems, and that he was letting her touch him as she was... It was enough to leave her comforted and warm, peering at his work from her ‘perch’.

She’d always loved his designs. Kaveh was nothing short of a genius when it came to making something beautiful and yet still retain its practicality, safety, and usefulness, and this looked to be no different, sapphire eyes slowly skimming over the blueprints laid out. There was still much about them she didn’t understand - she was a vision researcher, not an architect, and being married to one who tried to teach her the technical aspects from time to time didn’t mean she could pick up on it overnight, as much as she’d have loved to - but one thing was for certain: They would take time, and his clients needed to let him work.

“Then we’ll have to remind them of that,” Aceline finally noted, letting her fingers curl against his stomach in a lazy, hopefully relaxing scratch. “If they’re being picky, we’ll just have to find the design that blows them away and reminds them of why these things take time. Even past that, they need to be reminded the safety of those using the port is paramount, as well, and you’re the best for the job in both regards. We’ll just have to grant them the patience to see things through properly.”

We. As long as she’d known him, Aceline had never let Kaveh stand alone - Especially when he was frustrated like he was, regardless of how well she could wrap her mind around whatever bothered him. If his clients wouldn’t give him the time to create what they needed, why would she not take the time from her own research to face them with him and vouch for his work? If she could catch an argument or a point he missed, then didn’t that prove two heads were better than one?

A tilt of her head nuzzled her cheek against his, a content hum to follow. “What you have already is beautiful, you know. Your designs never fail to be so.”

[3pirouette]

Fic: Domestic Bliss and International Espionage (1/1)

Title: Domestic Bliss and International Espionage By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Spoilers: General TFA and AC Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: 8109 Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: For Tumblr’s @superhero-daugthers11 as a pinch hit for the Steggy Secret Santa. Steve and Peggy, back in the US after the war, go undercover as a newlywed couple to find a Hydra scientist hiding in the suburbs.

A/N: This is 100% inspired by several things. 1. One of my all-time favorite X-Files Episodes “Arcadia” 2. The first episode of WandaVision 3. My giftee saying she liked the idea of Steggy married/dating and working together for SHIELD, and 4. Getting another Steggy Bingo Prompt in there… sentence prompt: “Did you really just insult Captain America in front of me?”

Please assume/add in your headcanons for the following: Steve was rescued shortly after the Valkyrie crash and OBVIOUSLY has pursued a romantic relationship with Peggy. Due to this, the events of the Agent Carter series have NOT happened. They’re both working for the SSR, tying up loose ends from the war.  

Easiest way to see what I see is to imagine Steve and Peggy in the Petrie’s house from the Dick Van Dyke Show… but if you’re not familiar with that, the house from the first episode of WandaVision will do nicely.

~*~

Steve turned from the suitcase where he was lifting folded shirts out. “Just… consider this a test run.”

Peggy smirked, leaning against the doorjamb of the bedroom. She held out her hand, one of Steve’s socks dangling from her two fingers. “What, for me finding your stinky socks on the bathroom floor? Strike one, Rogers.”

Peggy tossed the sock to him, moving into the small bedroom with its double twin beds. She sat heavily on the side of hers, shaking her head. “If this is anything like moving, I’ll never do it again. I’m exhausted.”

Steve tucked his shirts away in the drawer, turning back to her, balling the sock up in his hand and tossing it into the hamper in the closet. “Most houses don’t have top of the line surveillance equipment we would have to hide in the roses.”

“The neighbors are already peeking out,” Peggy said, kicking her shoes off and sliding them under the edge of the bed with her toe. “I saw some from the back door peeking over while I was finishing in the kitchen. I’m sure we’ll have visitors tomorrow.”

Steve grabbed his empty suitcase from the bed and slipped it in the closet, shutting the door. “I’m surprised we didn’t have any today, what with all the commotion of moving in.”

Peggy shrugged, bouncing back to lie on the bed. “In my experience, deep cover Hydra scientists trying to hide out in suburban communities don’t just knock on your door and announce themselves.”

Steve chuckled, moving over to sit on the side of her bed at her hip. He gently took her left hand, running his thumb over the fake wedding band she wore. Peggy smiled up at him. “You know, Angie told me you’d asked her about my ring size.” Steve’s eyebrows rose to his hairline, and she could see his mind trying to scramble to salvage the surprise. “Oh, I know it’s coming, Steve. Don’t try to pretend it isn’t.”

He smiled softly. “I was hoping to surprise you is all.”

“You will,” she whispered, shifting to hold his hand tight. “When, where, how… I’ll try to avoid using my super spy powers on you to divine those things.” She reached her other hand to slide up his arm. “I’m an inpatient woman, so don’t make me wait too long.”

Steve smiled wolfishly at her, leaning over and putting his weight on his left hand, trapping her under him. “I mean, this counts, right?” He leaned down, letting Peggy traverse the last few centimeters to bring their lips together, kissing her sweetly. “This counts as being married?”

She chuckled as she kissed him, reaching one arm up to twine in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Absolutely does not.”

He pulled back a bit, teasing. “I mean, I am sleeping right over there…”

“In your own bed,” Peggy pushed them up to sitting, wrapping both arms around his shoulders.

“And it would be so easy to just push them together.”

She shook her head, teasing, despite the fact that the idea seemed like a good one to her. “Scandalous.”

Steve kissed her gently again. “Well, I suppose I should at least pretend to let you get a good night’s sleep?”

Peggy nodded, smiling. “We’ve got a bit of work ahead of us, I think. Very few men trying to hide from prosecution for war crimes make themselves known.”

“Good night then,” he kissed her softly and pushed away from her, “Mrs. Harper.”

Peggy tipped her head with a sultry smile. “Mr. Harper.”

~*~

Peggy moved the eggs around the pan, eyes tight on them as Steve walked into the kitchen the next morning. “Don’t distract me,” she mumbled. “The second I look away they burn.”

He watched her for a moment as she gently stirred the scrambled eggs, eyes intent as he’d ever seen them. “Stove burning too hot?”

“Simply out of practice, I’m afraid. Already ruined four eggs this way.” She pulled the pan off the heat and separated the eggs on to two plates. “Anything I’ve eaten for the last few years has come from a mess, out of a can, or from the automat.” She set the empty pan down and snapped off the heat. “Why you ever married me I’ll never know.”

He moved over, taking both plates and kissing her on the cheek. “Why, I like it so much, I might do it twice.”

Peggy chuckled, moving the pan to the sink and running water in it. “Easy there, soldier. We haven’t made it through this mission yet.” She peeked over at his silence, then turned around all the way, meeting his intent stare. “It’s the apron, isn’t it? I’ve gone too far?”

Steve watched, hands still full of plates, as she spun in her dress, looking for something out of place while her perfect curls bounced around her face like something out of a beauty magazine. He smiled, “No, no- I just…” he cleared his throat, moving to set the plates on the small table in the kitchen. He took a gentle deep breath and moved over to her. “It’s all a little… too perfect, you know? Not quite us, I think, but like something out of a movie.”

Peggy bit her lip, stepping closer to him so he could wrap her in his arms. “This whole thing is a bit spot on.” She played with the edge of his cardigan, the blue doing amazing things for his eyes. “But needs must when trying to build a trap.”

He moved his hand to trace over her chin, feeling content and happy despite the threat. “Will you cook me eggs after this is all over?”

Peggy would her arms around his neck, humming happily. “If you’re a good boy.” After a moment, she pushed back, centering herself. “Though you haven’t eaten them, yet, so you are taking a large chance there, darling.” She pushed him towards the table and followed shortly, two mugs of coffee in her hands.

“Peg—”

“Betty,” she demanded, stopping and looking at him. “I agree that this little fantasy is a bit of a slippery slope for the both of us, but we really must start doing better.” She sat and slid his coffee to him, looking him in eyes pointedly. “Roger.”

Steve nodded, taking the coffee. “Right. Betty,” he paused, the name not rolling off his tongue easily, “I can help with the cooking.”

“And risk someone seeing?” She picked up her fork, face stern. “From this moment on, no matter what, we’re happy newlyweds Roger and Betty Harper. I’m a stay-at-home wife who loves to knit and worked in a bullet factory during the war, you’re a veteran and you do figures at an accounting firm in the city. Perfect little wife, doting husband. Suburban life to a ridiculous, stereotypical T, got it?”

He held out his hand and she took it, looking at her plate rather than at him. “Hey,” he waited until she lifted her eyes. “I was just enjoying it too much. I know our cover. I’m in this one hundred percent, okay?”

Peggy held his hand and squeezed lightly, the smile returning to her face. “Yes, dear.”

~*~

By mid-morning they’d had five of the neighboring wives stop in to introduce themselves. Most were kind, young, gregarious and a bit overly excited to get to know them once Steve showed his face.

“You should stay in the kitchen when the next one comes over,” Peggy complained, sitting heavily on their small couch. “I can’t stand another wide-eyed housewife dazzled by your smile.”

Steve laughed, sitting next to her. “There’s only one housewife I want dazzled by my smile.”

Peggy collapsed into his lap, looking up at him. “She’s a little too tired to be dazzled right now. Somehow social pleasantries are more exhausting than the battlefield.” She closed her eyes, letting Steve’s fingers running through her hair lull her into a sense of calm. “Anything on any of the cameras?”

“No,” Steve didn’t slow his movements as his hand combed through her hair. He’d spent his morning when he wasn’t meeting neighbors “working,” keeping an eye on all of the cameras and equipment they’d set up. “So far just people mowing their lawns and taking walks.” She could feel his chuckle. “Not that I expected to see anyone building a bomb in their back yard…”

She reached up a hand, gently hitting him in the chest. “Don’t be flippant about it. Some people are quite stupid.”

The doorbell rang again and Peggy hoisted herself from Steve’s embrace, straightening her dress and forcing a smile on her face. “You look perfect,” Steve reassured.

She huffed, her eyebrows bouncing high on her forehead as she moved to the front door. “Hello?” She asked, her tone changing as she pulled the door open.

Standing across from her was a young woman, similar in age to Peggy, with sharp features and immaculately styled blonde hair. “Oh, hi! I hope I’m not interrupting?” Her Midwest accent was sharp, just a little too bubbly as she held out the dish she was holding. “I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

Peggy swept back, opening her arm. “Please come in. I’m Betty and this is my husband, Roger.”

“Dottie Underwood,” she said quickly, smiling back and forth between the both of them. “I brought you some cookies, I baked them fresh last night, and if I leave them around the house I’m afraid my father just eats them all.”

Peggy carefully took the dish, smiling as she set it down. “They look wonderful, thank you.”

Dottie’s eyes swept around the house, somewhat more intent than a simple curious glance. “You’re quite welcome. How are you settling?”

Steve stood tall, smiling brightly as he moved next to Peggy, gently laying his hand on her back. “Well enough, people have been very kind. I think we’ve met most of the neighborhood by now, haven’t we, honey?”

Peggy giggled, leaning into his side and watching how Dottie tried to keep her smile straight. “Oh, at least the whole street, I’m sure.”

“That’s wonderful.” Dottie smiled brightly. “I was hoping maybe you’d come over for dinner tonight? I live with my father and I’m afraid he doesn’t go out much anymore, but he does enjoy meeting everyone.”

Steve and Peggy shared a short look. To the average person it seemed just a husband and wife consulting one another, to the trained eye, the conversation that happened was much more in-depth and quick. “Well,” Steve replied quickly, “I think we’d be delighted.”

“Oh, that’s just wonderful,” Dottie replied, her smile growing wider, eyes sparkling as she moved toward the door. “I’ll go tell father, he’ll be so pleased.”

Dottie smiled at them, the three standing quietly until Steve nudged Peggy I the back. “Oh, yes, is there anything we can bring?” Peggy asked, trying to hide her forgetfulness with a fluster.

Dottie laughed lightly, moving towards the door. “Just yourselves. Six o’clock, sharp.” She stopped, hand on the knob. “We’re the little blue house, 1013, just on the other side of the street.”

Once she was out, Peggy scooted to the window, watching as Dottie meandered down the driveway and sidewalk, eyes never leaving her until she disappeared into her own home. “Did she strike you as…”

“Trying to hard?” Steve supplied, looking over her shoulder. “Suspicious?”

Peggy turned, looking at him, the agent emerging from the housewife. “Do we have a camera on their house?”

Steve smiled. “Rosebush 3.”

~*~

“What do you mean you invited them over?” Fennhoff bellowed, slamming his fist on the small kitchen table. “What about in hiding do you not understand?”

Dottie rolled her eyes at him, sitting across the table. “Sometimes the best place to hide is out in the open, Papa.” The title dripped from her lips, sarcastic and biting. She pulled the notebook he was scribbling in away, forcing him to look at her. “If we want to fit in, we need to get to know these people, make them want to help and protect the old man and his daughter.”

He grabbed the notebook back. “We should stay inside.”

“You can’t build a new identity by staying inside you helpless oaf.” Dottie stood, pushing away from the table and letting the legs of the chair scrape along the floor. She rounded the small table, leaning over the scientist’s shoulder, eyes dark. “My job is to protect you until Hydra builds itself back up and is ready for you to come back. You trust me, or you get caught. Your call.”

He pursed his lips tight, unhappy. “We should be at their home, going through their things.”

Dottie made a noise in the back of her throat as she rolled her eyes and moved away. “Like I haven’t thought of that.” She moved away, leaning on the kitchen counter. “I’ve already told them you’re unwell. At some point we’ll make your excuses and you can go see what you can find.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “I am not the one who is a spy, you are.”

Dottie smiled like a snake, her teeth sharp and gleaming in the light. “You’re whatever I tell you you are until this whole thing is over.”

~*~

Steve looked at the young man across the dinner table, knowing he was lying. As hard as he’d tried to get in the Army, there had been more people trying just as hard, if not harder, to get out of it. “4F you say?”

“Yeah,” Dan from across the street cleared his throat. “Asthma. Wouldn’t let me enlist over a little thing like that.”

Dinner was a strained affair. Steve and Peggy saw upon their arrival that they hadn’t been the only people invited. Dottie has also invited her neighbors, Dan and Laura Smythe, to try to help them get to know people. Though they tried to keep the conversation moving, it was stilted and uncomfortable. Dottie, all smiles, kept trying to shift topics of conversation while her father sat grumpily at the head of the table.

“Beastly affair, that war.” Dottie’s feigned sadness was easy to see through. “It’s how I lost my Earnie.”

Laura wasn’t quite as sharp as Peggy and fell for the faux sadness, letting her hand rest on the woman’s arm. “Your beau?”

“We were engaged,” Dottie continued, sniffling dramatically. “He was a pilot with the 107th, got shot down over enemy territory.”

Steve and Peggy shared a look. There hadn’t been any pilots in the 107th, definitely none named Earnie. A quick glance at the older Underwood revealed nothing. He had no feelings about the loss of the man who supposedly was going to marry his daughter, which struck them both as odd.

Laura, however, was eating it up. “Was he one of the soldier’s that Captain America saved in that amazing rescue? Didn’t he save nearly that whole battalion?”

Dottie shook her head. “No, he was lost just before that, I’m afraid.”

“Well, that didn’t happen, anyway.” Steve said with a bold confidence that made every face turn and look at him.

Peggy’s jaw tightened as she turned to him, putting a hand to his arm. “Darling.”

“No, you know how I feel about this, Betty.” Steve turned and patted her hand, every inch the dismissive husband. “I was out there, fighting for my life, fighting to get back to you, and they parade this guy around in tights on newsreels?”

“Laura and I saw him at one of those USO shows,” Dan started, causing Peggy to squeeze Steve’s arm in concern that their ruse was about to fall apart, “I swear I saw wires. Guy was an actor and a hack.”

“Right?” Steve threw up his hand, nodding appreciatively at the man. “No way he was that strong.”

Laura giggled a bit, leaning towards Dottie. “He was quite handsome, though, don’t you think?”

Dottie, hoping to defuse some of the tension she could feel radiating around the table, just laughed along. “Oh yes, very handsome.” Dottie turned her smile across the table. “Did you ever get to see him, Betty?”

Peggy folded her hands under the table. “Oh, a few times.” She snuck a look at Steve then leaned forward, whispering towards the women though she knew full well everyone could hear her. “Those tights were quite the uniform!”

The women giggled, Dan pressed his lips into a tight line, and Steve had to bite his tongue to keep a straight face. The elder Underwood, for his part, was growing more and more upset.

“That man won them the war,” the elder Underwood grumbled.

“Impossible.” Steve turned to him, almost enjoying the part he was playing. “Hollywood smoke and mirrors. I was out there and I never saw him or that shield. Not once.”

Underwood pushed himself away from the table, his face growing red. “Did you really just insult Captain America in front of me?” He stood, leaning over Peggy and Steve with enough menace that Steve put his arm across Peggy, ready to move her behind him if the man became any more aggressive. “You come into my house and you say these things?”

Steve had been having fun with their plan to insult his alter ego, see if their hosts were sympathetic, showed any leanings to the Axis powers, but this hit home. He knew people had idolized him, and as much as that had made him uncomfortable, he understood how important it was to have a symbol of hope in such a bleak time.

Before Steve could reply and apologize the man stormed off. Dottie stood, stuttering an apology, and followed him into the house.

“Well, I for one am with you,” Dan said, raising his fork and diving back into his dinner. “Man was a fraud.”

Peggy grabbed Steve’s hand under the table and squeezed.

~*~

“What was that back there?” Dottie demanded in a hushed voice once she’d closed the door to Fennhoff’s room behind them.

“Distraction,” he said sharply, his accent becoming more pronounced. “You want distraction, you get distraction.”

Dottie huffed, crossing her arms. “And what am I supposed to tell them now?”

“That your father is a great patriot. That he needs his rest. You say whatever you say while I go pretend to be spy.” Fennhoff waved her away and opened the window in his room, grumbling about how he was supposed to slip out. “Lock the door.”

~*~

Steve stood as Dottie joined them back at the table. “I should go apologize.”

“No, no,” Dottie shooed him back to his seat. “My father gets grumpy sometimes. He just needed to take his pills and lay down for a spell.” She sat herself back down and laid her napkin on her lap with deliberate flair. “It’ll all be forgotten after a quick nap, I promise.”

“Still, I’d feel better if I could,” Steve reluctantly sat, rearranging his own napkin.

“I’m sure he’ll be back out in a bit.” She smiled widely, a motion that did not reach her eyes. “He just never misses dessert!”

~*~

Anyone fluent in Russian would have been scandalized at the string of words coming from Fennhoff’s lips as he snuck into the back of the Harper home.

“Don’t even lock their doors,” Fennhoff mumbled as he slipped in their back door. He moved carefully through the dark kitchen, futilely opening and closing cabinets. He did not expect to find anything in the home of that vapid man who didn’t believe Captain America was real.

He’d seen the damage that man could do with his own eyes. Anyone who believed Captain America hadn’t won the war for the Allied forces was either dimwitted, a fool, or both.

He tried to stay quiet as he moved through the house, but there wasn’t much light and even less to see that was interesting. The house was only sparsely decorated with few, if any, places to hide things. He made his rounds quickly, opening and closing closets and doors and saw nothing that would make him think these people were anything other than what they said they were: boring American suburbanites.

He stopped on his way out and opened the small broom closet he’d neglected on the way in, sighing when there was nothing more than a broom, mop, and bucket there.

“Dumb woman spy,” he mumbled, letting himself out quietly.

~*~

“Next time we’ll have you over,” Peggy said, holding both of Dottie’s hands at the door. “Dinner was simply marvelous.”

“Oh, shucks,” Dottie took one hand to bat the compliment away. “It was so lovely to get to know you and welcome you to the neighborhood.”

The corner of Steve’s mouth crooked up sadly. “Please give my apologies to your father.”

“No need,” she reached out, stroking Steve’s shoulder in a motion that was just slightly more than neighborly. “He’s a stubborn old man and you are a great war hero, Mr. Harper. You’re allowed a difference of opinion, especially since you were there.”

“All the same,” Steve stepped back out of her reach, taking Peggy’s hand and moving away. He felt like if he didn’t escape, they’d be exchanging pleasantries all night. “Have a great night.”

“You too!” Dottie called, watching from the door as they turned.

Steve pressed his hand to Peggy’s back, pushing her down the pavement just a little faster. “She’s still watching,” he mumbled. “Gosh, such lovely neighbors around here, don’t you think, honey?” he let his voice drift louder.

“Absolutely, darling. I’m so excited to get to know them all. Maybe join the Women’s Auxiliary.” Peggy leaned closer to Steve, her voice lower now, “Is she still watching? My face hurts from smiling.”

“Few more feet, dear,” he whispered. He leaned down, “I think Dan and Laura are out there now,” he pointed to his ear, signaling he could hear them talking, “Want to give them a show?”

Peggy raised her eyebrow, the false suburban smile she’d been sporting morphing into a smirk he was much more used to seeing on her face. “Show?”

He led her up the steps, stopping to dig the keys out of his pocket. Once he did, he reached out and unlocked the door, pushing it open. Before she could step in, he swept her off her feet, carrying her like she was a brand-new bride. Peggy squeaked, grabbing on to his shoulders more out of surprise than fear that he would drop her on the front porch.

She laughed. “This is what you had in mind?”

He leaned forward, kissing her gently. “Gotta sell that newlywed cover,” he whispered against her lips. “They watching?”

Peggy shifted her head as he turned them a bit, his lips on hers again. Peggy squinted, making it look like her eyes were closed. She didn’t normally like to do double duty while Steve was kissing her, but he managed to avoid distracting her too badly. She could see the Smythe’s and Dottie on the porch, eyes glues to them. From the window, the elder Underwood peaked out. Peggy dragged her lips away. “All watching. And slightly scandalized.”

“They’ll be very scandalized in a minute,” he mumbled, kissing down her neck.

Peggy hit him playfully in the shoulder. “Barbarian!” She laughed as he growled in her ear. “Inside at once!” She kicked a bit as he straightened up, laughing as he bounced her in his arms. Steve made a show of almost losing his balance and nearly dropping her as he stepped over the threshold for their audience. For good measure he kicked the door closed, wishing he could see all of their faces.

He’d absolutely go back and check the surveillance tapes just to see what they looked like.

He turned, putting Peggy down and pressing her up against the door, letting his lips meet hers again. “That was fun.”

She hummed happily, but pushed him away. “Quite, but we still have work to do.” She moved past him, then stopped as she flipped on the light. She held out her hand, then pointed. “And you made fun of me for vacuuming us out before we left.”

“You were wearing pearls and an evening dress.” Steve pointed out, bending low to look at the fresh footprints that showed against the new, freshly cleaned nap of the carpet. “What do you think?”

“Man’s shoe, fairly large.” Peggy moved around, following the path. “Came from the kitchen, so… in through the back door.”

“Looks like he took a peek in each room,” Steve added, opening the doors and following the trail, “then back through the kitchen to go out.”

“You think they found…” Peggy started, but didn’t finish, following Steve into the kitchen and watching as he opened the closet door.

“Doubt it, everything’s exactly as I left it, including that little bit of flour by the wall.” He smiled up at her, trying to show off the tricks he’d slowly been learning from her since they’d been working together stateside. He warmed at bit at her smile, then moved the mop, broom, and bucket. With a firm push to one side of the back wall, it spun, sweeping the flour on the floor into a wide, tell-tale circle and revealing that the closet was actually three times the size, hiding a small bank of monitors and recording equipment. “Shall we?”

They both slipped in the small space, Steve on the stool he occupied for most of the day while surveilling, Peggy peering over his shoulder as he found the reel trained on their back door and rolled it back. It was fuzzy in the darkness, but the figure creeping through their rosebushes seemed quite familiar. “Is that Underwood?” Peggy asked, waiting for Steve to roll the tape back and forth until they had a fairly clear picture.

“Looks like it,” Steve mumbled, marking down the time and reel for future reference. “What do you think he’s looking for?”

“Same as we are,” Peggy said quietly, slipping from the closet to lean on the door jamb. “If they’re in hiding, they’re looking out for anyone wanting to find them.”

Steve reloaded some of the reels, marking others and setting the film aside to review tomorrow. Peggy watched him work, smiling as he rolled up his sleeves, concentration fully on his task. She leaned on the doorway, slipping off her heels and content to just be for the moment. Steve slipped out of the hidden space, pushing the fake wall back in place and sweeping the flour back into an indistinguishable line along the bottom of the wall.

“Do you think it will be like this?” Peggy mused, watching as he ran a damp cloth along the visible floor of the closet, hiding the existence of the flour even further to sell their ruse.

“Do I think what will be like what?” Steve asked, standing and laying the wet dishcloth over the back of a chair to dry.

Peggy bounced over to him on her toes, hands holding her heels behind her back, hips swaying and swinging her skirt around her in a manner that was much more carefree than Steve had seen her in a long time. “Do you think our marriage will be like this? Domestic bliss and snogging against the front door one minute and international espionage the next?”

Steve tilted his head, his forehead creasing in thought as he wrapped his arms around her. “You know, it probably will. Though I’d like to say we’ll need much less surveillance at our house.”

“Our house…” she mused, smiling widely. “Kind of thrilling, isn’t it?” Peggy wrapped her arms around him with a sly smile, heels still dangling from her fingers.

His brows knit together for just a brief moment, the concern replaced by amusement on his face. “I don’t think life with you will ever be boring, dear.” He leaned down, kissing her gently.

Peggy leaned back, eyes still closed, a smile on her lips. She blinked her eyes open, half lidded and dreamy. “What say you to pushing the beds together tonight, Mr. Harper?”

He kissed her again, nipping at her bottom lip. “Sounds like an excellent idea to me.” Without warning, Steve bent his knees, grabbing behind her thighs and lifting her up.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, a sly smile on her face. “You enjoy showing off like that, don’t you?”

“For you?” His smile lit up his face. “Absolutely.”

Her face went blank, her eyes darting around the room as if people were there that might overhear her. “Small confession.” She leaned close to him, eyes sincere. “If, tomorrow, you woke up and were that 98 pound asthmatic man I first met, I’d love you all the same. But, and I’ll deny this until the day I die to anyone else,” her eyes grew mischievous, “I like it when you show off very much. Please don’t ever stop.”

He laughed, full and hearty, as he started to move toward the bedroom. Peggy bounced her heel off his lower back, trying to turn him like a horse. “Ah! Back, soldier. We’ve got doors to lock!”

Steve laughed, turning back and shifting her to his hip so he could see and secure the house without having to put her down. “Yes, ma’am!”

~*~

“They are not spies,” Fennhoff insisted, pushing past Dottie.

She shook her head, closing the cabinet door with more force than necessary. The kitchen was still in a state from the dinner party and as usual she was left to clean everything up. “I’m telling you, you’re wrong. You just didn’t know where to look.”

The man grumbled and disappeared down the hall, the sound of his bedroom door slamming and locking echoing through the house.

~*~

The morning sun was bright coming through the front room’s picture window. Steve squinted as he stepped up behind Peggy, wrapping one arm around her waist as his other hand wound around her to offer her the cup of tea he held. “A little sunny, isn’t it?”

She hummed in agreement as she took and sipped her tea, her eyes never leaving the street where they were staring intently. “See that tabby?”

He followed her line of sight, things clearer as he got used to the brightness, to the small grey cat bouncing up and down the curb across the street outside of Dottie’s house. “I mean, it’s cute, but I don’t think right now is the best time to get a pet, Betty.” A soft humor infused his voice, knowing that Peggy’s plans were far past pets as she stayed intent on the creature.

“Hum, maybe not. But nevertheless, it’s been in and out of our yard, too, and I’ve noticed it doesn’t have a collar.” She let her free hand run over the arm around her waist. “What’s the range on those bugs Howard gave us?”

“With a direct line of sight, 100 yards.” He shrugged, thinking. “Obscured? Maybe 50. Could be more or less depending on what’s between us and it.” He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her soft scent before pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “You have a plan.”

She turned and smiled at him. “I have a plan.”

~*~

It started with a small saucer of milk late that morning. Peggy left it on the front stoop and spent a little while just sitting outside next to it, waving at neighbors and smiling. “You haven’t seen that little grey tabby, have you?” she would ask each passing person, concern all over her face, “I got a glimpse of him this morning and I could have sworn he was limping!”

By the afternoon, Steve was trying very hard to keep a straight face as he helped her “search” for the cat in their yard.

Just before dinner, Peggy palmed the small listening device, a thin disk that was barely the size of a quarter, and headed across the street, making tiny whispering and clicking noises, eyes, wide and sad.

Laura Smythe popped her head out of her kitchen window as Peggy knelt next to the storm drain between their house and Dottie’s. “Betty? Are you ok?”

“Oh, fine, Laura!” She stood and waved, her face tight. “I just could have sworn I saw that little grey stray cat and it was limping. I just want to make sure the poor thing is okay.” She huffed and stood, straightening her skirt. “Have you seen him?”

Laura shook her head. “Not since yesterday.” She smiled at Peggy. “So sweet of you to want to try to help him.”

“Well thanks, I—oh!” Peggy turned, eyes set on Dottie’s front yard. With a fake wobble in her heels, she was more adept in running in them than she’d like everyone to know, she darted towards the azalea bush and stopped short. She smiled back at Laura, “I think I’ve got him!” With a smile that had nothing to do with a cat, Peggy pushed her way into the bush and along the front side of the house. She made some noise, swished the plant a few times, and smiled to herself. It was going perfectly.

Dottie was on her porch before Peggy could even catch her breath from the run over, voice loud. “Goodness, Betty, what are you doing?” She demanded, incensed.

Peggy stood, using the ledge of the window to haul herself up and the exaggerated surprise she feigned to hide how she set the small bug in the corner of the sill and the window. “Oh! Dottie I hope I didn’t startle you!”

Dottie, less neighborly than yesterday, started at her. “You did, Betty. Why are you in my bushes?”

Peggy dropped her head, shaking it sadly. “Oh, I just saw that poor neighborhood cat limping this morning and I’ve been trying to get my hands on him and see if he was ok. I could have sworn I saw him over here!” Peggy looked around herself, as if she was just noticing what a mess she made. “Oh, goodness, what have I done? I just don’t think sometimes!”

Dottie couldn’t hide the suspicion on her face, but stepped down and offered Peggy her hand. “Let me help you out.”

“Oh, I am so sorry! Your beautiful flowers!” Peggy brushed the leaves and petals from her dress and gestured towards the slightly rumpled bush. “I’ll pay for any damages, I am so, so very sorry.”

“No need,” Dottie said coolly, her smile never reaching her eyes. “I never liked that one anyway.”

~*~

Steve was still laughing when she made her way back into the house. She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t deny that it must have looked a sight. “You almost done?” She crossed her arms, trying to hide her smile as she leaned against the counter.

He was still catching his breath as he emerged from his small control center in the broom closet, hand pressed to his chest. “Oh… oh that was priceless.”

She eyed him as he moved closer, leaning his hands on the counter on either side of her and looming with a bright smile on his face. Peggy rested her hand on his shoulders, enjoying the closeness. “Yes, but did it work?”

He nodded, reaching up with one hand and picking leaves and petals from her hair. He picked the last one and held the pink petal up for her to see. “It did. Not the clearest sound, but good enough.” He kissed her quickly, a peck full of pride and happiness. “You’re brilliant.”

“Why, thank you,” she replied happily, lifting up on her toes for another brief kiss before she ducked away under his arm. “Then you’re making dinner. I’m simply exhausted from looking for that cat all day!”

~*~

The chatter from the Underwood residence was tinny and quiet, but there wasn’t much to expect from the small transmitter. It did its job and Steve and Peggy could hear clear enough the woman and her father bickering in half sentences. Anytime they were in the back of the house they were out of range, but the front room and kitchen came in clear enough.

“They know they’re being monitored,” Peggy sighed, pulling off her headphones. Dottie’s tone had been harsh and clipped, and more than once her “father” had stopped short mid-sentence, either because he didn’t want to keep talking or because Dottie wanted him stopped.

Steve pulled off his own headphones and leaned back. He tried to stretch but his arms hit the wall of the small closet. “You’re right. They’re far too close lipped.”

“And the language is not nearly familiar enough to be father and daughter,” Peggy muttered, scooting to the side and leaning back onto Steve’s shoulder. His arm would around her immediately, stroking over her upper arm. “I’m not sold that they’re who we’re looking for, but I know they’re not who they say they are.”

Steve tipped his head into hers, cuddling close for a second. “What do you think? Time to turn in?”

She nodded against him “They’ll still be there tomorrow, I suppose.”

~*~

Peggy snuck out of her bed, tiptoeing as she picked up her robe and slippers, trying to avoid waking Steve in the middle of the night.

“Peg?” he murmured, turning.

She stopped, shifting her load to one hand to push his hair out of his eyes with the other as she bent by his bed. “Can’t sleep. Just getting some water.”

He hummed as her fingers moved over his cheek, catching her hand in his and turning his head to kiss her palm. “Don’t be long. You need to rest.”

She smiled as his eyes fluttered closed, sleep already pulling him back. “I’ll do my best, darling.”

Peggy slipped through the bedroom door, closing it behind her before wrapping herself in the robe and putting the slippers on her feet. There was a chill in the air, enough to make her wrap her arms around herself as she moved through the living room and to the kitchen.

She didn’t bother with the lights, the moonlight through the windows was enough to see by. She’d been lying in bed for hours, her mind running over scenarios of who the mysterious “father” and “daughter” team across the street could really be. She quietly opened the refrigerator, pulling out the orange juice. She filled the first glass she found and slipped the bottle back, sitting at the table in the darkness. She’d been expecting to find a man named Fennhoff masquerading as a widower. They didn’t know much about him, never mind what he looked like, but the presence of Dottie was baffling to her. The woman was suspicious and sharp, and deep inside Peggy thought she was smarter than she let on.

Peggy sipped her juice, not really wanting it but needing something to do with her hands. She thought about slipping back into the little closet, reviewing the tapes for the night, but decided against it. She needed to shut off her mind, quiet it, not rile it up. She needed rest so she could figure out what their next step would be. Steve was good, and getting better every day, but his real expertise was on the battlefield, not as a spy, and he still deferred to her in almost all matters for missions. She needed to be ready with a new plan by the time the alarm clock went off in the morning.

She wasn’t sure how long she was sitting in the dark, letting her mind wander, before she heard it: soft, crunching footsteps in the backyard. She lifted her glass and slowly made her way to behind the counter, crouched low and waiting. She didn’t have much of an advantage, but the juice would at least sting enough to give her the element of surprise.

Peggy steeled herself as she heard the doorknob slowly turn, the person jiggling it gently to confirm the lock was thrown. She slowed her breathing, mind clear and ready for anything as she heard the soft click of lock picks and the tumblers moving in place. The door opened almost silently, a small figure slipping in based on the shadow Peggy could see along the wall.

The person slipped in, looking quietly around the room. Peggy held her breath, waiting as the footsteps got closer, waiting for the person to be just close enough.

Without thought she stood, tossing the juice towards the intruder.

Dottie Underwood screeched as the acidic juice burned her eyes, stumbling back.

Peggy pressed forward, pushing her against the cabinets with both hands. She knew the rattle was loud enough to wake Steve and that he’d be there to back her up any moment. “What are you doing here?”

Dottie, eyes red and blinking furiously, took only a second to choose between lying and the truth. Truth, though, didn’t quite come with words. Instead, she threw her head forward, connecting her forehead with Peggy’s with a sickening crack. Peggy stumbled back, but had the advantage of knowing exactly where everything was in the kitchen. She didn’t need to look to get the pan from the stove, sitting and waiting for breakfast to be cooked up in a few hours, and swing it around.

Dottie threw a hand up just in time to keep the pan from connecting with her skull, and grabbed Peggy’s arm with her free one, grappling and forcing her to drop the pan with a clatter.

“Who are you?” Peggy ground out between her teeth, grabbing a fistful of hair and using that to hold Dottie in her frame of vision.

Dottie countered with a leg sweep, sending Peggy toppling over and off her feet. Peggy didn’t let go, though, and Dottie went down with her, landing them both between the island and the counter. “Just a concerned neighbor,” Dottie managed to huff out, pushing with her legs to try to get the upper hand and roll on top of Peggy. “Thought I saw a robber.”

“How kind,” Peggy grunted, managing to get her hand on a corner of the cabinet and use the leverage to get a leg out so she could knee the woman in the chest. Dottie lost her breath, leaving room for Peggy to pounce once again as she stumbled to stand and move away from her. Peggy started to move towards her again just as Steve rushed through the door of the kitchen, eyes wide and in nothing more than his pajama pants.

Steve’s arrival somewhat stymied Dottie. She paused, still trying to catch her breath, with Peggy huffing beside her. Steve looked between the two women and Peggy stared at him, disbelief in her eyes. “Her, please!”

Steve snatched Dottie around the waist and lifted her off her feet, keeping his head away from her flailing arms as she struggled. Peggy pulled the tie from her robe, using it to secure her hands behind her back once Steve had set her in one of the kitchen chairs.

“Still plan on sticking to your story,” Peggy huffed, sitting across from her as Steve stood guard, “or are you going to tell us what we need to know?”

Dottie smiled like a shark, her red, tearing eyes fighting the visual she wanted to present. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Peggy and Steve shared a look, and without a word he slipped out of the kitchen, headed back to the bedroom.

Dottie watched as he returned only moments later with a shirt and shoes to go with the pants, and a very brightly painted shield on his arm. He stepped in the kitchen and handed Peggy her gun before he disappeared out the front door.

Dottie winced; her eyes painful. “Betty, is it? Are you two even married?”

“Does it matter?” Peggy asked pragmatically, rounding the woman and checking her bindings. “I think what matters here is that you’re hiding something and I’d very much like to know what it is.”

“Do you have twin beds? Or just one big bed?” Dottie asked dreamily. “If I could have that in my bed…” she hummed, the salacious tone somewhat ineffective when combined with her sniffles.

“Are you here on behalf of Hydra?” Peggy asked, picking up a towel and mopping the orange juice from the floor.

Dottie continued rambling. “I mean, that’s one hundred percent American beefcake right there. USDA Prime. And strong.” She sighed happily. “When he picked me up… mmm mmm mmm.”

Peggy rolled her eyes behind the woman, picking the pan from the floor. “What about that man you’re with?”

“Oh, he’s about to have his day ruined.” Dottie laughed manically. “You see, when that Greek God of a man of yours riled him up about Captain America, he wasn’t lying. He gets riled up. Mostly because he hates him so much.” She laughed again. “When he wakes up and sees that shield over him… oh, he might just have a heart attack.”

Peggy checked the robe tie as she passed again, knowing it was hardly enough to secure someone who knew what they were doing before she opened the broom closet and pushed out the fake wall. “Last chance to give me anything before I throw you to the wolves.”

Dottie just sat, head held high, eyes still watering.

“Have it your way.” Peggy reached in and pulled out a beacon, tapping it twice. “The cavalry will be here shortly.”

~*~

Steve didn’t exactly feel fantastic about waking the old man up, but when he started cursing in Russian at him and pulled a gun from under his pillow, Steve reassessed his position.

He still felt bad when he had to knock him out though.

~*~

Peggy stood at the doorway, watching the rest of the SSR team pack the surveillance equipment away and hurry the rented furniture back in the truck as the forensics team was going over Dottie’s house. Dottie was safely in custody and Peggy would be interrogating her tomorrow at the SSR when everything was back to normal. It had been only four days since they moved in, but Peggy could admit, at least to herself, that she’d enjoyed playing house.

Steve came up behind her, his hands still at his sides rather than at her hips. They’d set clear ground rules when it came to the office and the SSR, and that meant no touching in front of co-workers. The absence of his hands when he was so close was causing the hairs on her arms to stand at attention. “What do you think about suburbia?” she questioned lightly, though it weighed heavily on her mind.

“Well, when there aren’t sleeper Hydra Agents hiding in it, it seems pleasant enough to me.” He shrugged, leaning on the doorjamb to look at her. “I grew up in the city, but I’m not attached to that as some idyllic idea of what life should be. Might be nice to have a little garden, some grass to cut, a front yard to build a snowman in and rake leaves…”

Peggy jutted her chin out the to Smythe house, where, like everyone else on the street, Dan and Laura were looking out the window, trying to get every bit of gossip they could. “Neighbors being neighborly.”

Steve dropped his voice. “I think we’d do well in someplace like this.”

Peggy smiled up at him before turning back to the men in the yard. “Agreed.”

“It should be bigger, though, to make room for the kids.” He nudged her with his elbow, a smile threatening to break out on his face. “Four, at least.”

Peggy raised her eyebrows at him. “Two.”

“Only two?” He asked, partially teasing and partially actually let down.

Peggy turned so the men in the yard couldn’t see or hear what she was saying. “Will you be popping them out then? Because until you are, I think the person actually carrying the children should have her opinion weighed slightly more.”

He nodded, eyebrows together tightly. “Point taken.”

She stepped closer, nudging him with her shoulder. “Perhaps we start with one, and see how we do, hum?” She pushed past him, the bump intentional and flirty. “Besides, I’m still waiting on that ring.”

Steve smiled out at the front yard, shoving his hands in his pockets. Good thing the ring was sitting back in his apartment in the top drawer of his dresser. Seeing as this little test run had gone well, maybe he’d pop the question sooner rather than later.

Domestic bliss and international espionage… Steve couldn’t think of anything he’d like more.

[silverfootstepswrites]

Butterfly [46]

summary I used to be an adventurer.... until I took a toepick kick to the knee...

Sakura sat fuming for most of the weekend the entire weekend. Haku seemed to be completely in favor of this course of action. As was Ino. And even though Haku and Ino weren’t particularly close, they seemed perfectly happy to sit on a conference call together, insulting the source of their mutual frustration. 

“He’s a trash man,” Ino spat.

“An awful garbage person,” Haku agreed. 

“No. He’s just...kind of short-sighted,” Sakura sighed. 

“Let’s kill him,” Ino declared.

“Ino, no,” Sakura and Haku said at the same time. And then Haku gasped.

“Wait, what’d you say to him?” Haku questioned. 

“I told him to get his ass over here to sort this out. He said they were in Japan anyway so that Hanabi-chan could see her parents,” replied Sakura. There was a pause. And then Ino spoke.

“Sakura.... just remember th-”

“Oh. No. No chance in hell we’re getting back together. That’s a bad idea,” Sakura interrupted her. Ino let out a sigh of relief.

“That’s good,” Haku piped up, “Because I’d skate over both your throats if you got back together again.” Completely cheerful. And even more sincere. 

“...I blame you. You’re a horrible influence,” Ino said.

No one in Konoha could figure out what was up with Sakura. Who bristled like a feral cat whenever anyone brought up Valentine’s Day or anything resembling the word ‘chocolate’. Even Kiba didn’t dare poke fun at her. 

“Maybe it’s reminding her of the divorce?” whispered Shikamaru, ducking behind his beer.

“We gotta come up with a backup plan for Sensei,” Kiba muttered, jerking his chin in Itachi’s direction. 

“Why’re you two whispering? She’s outside. She can’t hear you!” Genma interrupted from the bar.

“EXCUSE US, OLD MAN. THIS IS IMPORTANT!” Kiba retorted. He received a bar towel to the face. 

When Sakura came back inside, she settled in her chair, huffing and sighing. She rubbed her phone screen against her pant leg. Picking up her glass, she took a long gulp of her drink. 

Itachi’s eyes darted from her, to Shikamaru and Kiba. Back to Sakura. 

Shikamaru’s eyes widened. Kiba began shaking his head.

Itachi looked at Sakura again. Back to his friends.

Shikamaru hid his face behind his palm. Kiba shook his head even harder. 

Clearing his throat, Itachi reached out and lightly touched Sakura’s shoulder. She huffed, turning to him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Itachi inquired. 

Shikamaru and Kiba scooted their chairs back a little. In case she karate-chopped the table or flipped it over.

Sakura huffed again, a short exhale through her nostrils. Lips mashed together. She stared from him to Kiba and Shikamaru who were in the process of slowly inching back. She rubbed her temple with one hand, reaching for the beer with the other. She gulped down the rest of her glass. Slamming it onto the table, she let out an aggravated noise. 

“My ex-husband is coming,” she told them. 

Kiba and Shikamaru zoomed forward. The table rattled as they slapped down on top of it. 

“What?” Kiba hissed. 

 “Explain,” Itachi demanded. 

Hand pressed to her cheek, Sakura squirmed a little. Her eyes darted from Itachi, to Shikamaru, and then to Kiba. And then over Kiba’s shoulder she saw that Genma was leaning across the bar too. In fact, all the other patrons of the bar had turned to look at her. She grimaced. Shoulder drooping, she let out a sigh. She made a “come here” motion with her hand.

“Everyone may as well listen in. That way I don’t have to explain it 80 times to the whole town. Genma-san. Another beer,” Sakura called. And as the bar patrons scooted over with their chairs and stools, Genma snorted.

“I heard ‘ex-husband’. This calls for sake,” Genma yelled back. 

Genma dropped off several glasses of sake at the table before resting his elbow on top of Kiba’s head. Kiba didn’t even complain. Everyone leaned in to hear the news.

Sakura fidgeted for a few seconds as she gathered her words. And then she lifted her chin. 

“The public doesn’t know that my husband and I divorced,” she said.

Everyone nodded. 

“And only our town knows,” she went on.

“Tsunade and the other old ladies threatened to kill anyone who blabbed,” someone spoke up from the back. Everyone else nodded. The high school principal wasn’t a woman to cross. 

Sakura squeezed her hands together in her lap. “Well....Kimimaro-san got a call from his friend Utakata-san, who’s a figure skating correspondent now. And... basically Utakata-san’s boss has been pressuring him super-hard to do a Valentine’s special focused on Kimimaro-san... and me...”

“Can’t you just refuse?” Shizune asked. No one had noticed her sidle up beside her husband. She had wandered out from the kitchen, unnerved by the quiet in the bar. Genma put his arm around her. 

Sakura grimaced even harder. Shikamaru squinted as he examined the pieces of her expression. The downturned mouth. Shifty eyes.

“He said yes already,” Shikamaru guessed.

All eyes turned to Shikamaru. Then back to Sakura. Who nodded. 

There was an uproar in the bar as everyone began talking at once. 

“Why the hell would he do that?”

“That’s not his decision!”

“Where’s he right now? Let’s get him!”

And in the middle of all this chaos, Itachi reached toward Sakura. His hand stopped halfway, hesitating. Itachi jolted when he felt someone kick him under the table. When he looked up, Shikamaru glared at him. Then jerked his head in Sakura’s direction. Itachi tried again. He reached out. And this time, he managed to put his hand on hers. He gave her a few awkward pats. When Sakura lifted her chin, she smiled at him. 

“Alright, everyone calm- everyone- SHUT UP!” Kiba roared over all the noise. The room fell silent. People settled back in their seats. 

“What’s the plan, Haruno?” Kiba prompted her. 

Sakura cringed. “I don’t know. Die of embarrassment? Go live in the mountains?” she moaned. 

“That wouldn’t work. There’s no ice rink in the mountains,” Itachi sighed, patting her hand again. She gave a weak laugh. 

“Lure him here. I haven’t played baseball in a while. Maybe I’ll practice my skills on him,” Genma suggested. Everyone knew that the bar owner kept a metal baseball bat under the bar. Just in case someone got a little rowdy. He had never had to use it, though. He had been the ace hitter during high school. No one wanted to give him a reason to swing at them.

Other people suggested hitting him with a car. One of the fishermen volunteered to throw him into the ocean.

Sighing, Shizune slipped out from under Genma’s arm.

“Where’re you going?” he asked. 

Shizune pulled her apron off. “To call for some back-up,” she yelled back, heading for the phone behind the bar.

Reinforcements arrived within half an hour. Kurenai and Asuma showed up, Mirai held on Asuma’s hip. Kushina and Minato followed, Naruto in tow in his orange pajamas. Tsunade showed up too, hair in curlers and a coat thrown over her nightgown. 

“Move. You’re all useless!” Tsunade barked. Several of the men scrambled out of their chairs. She motioned for the women to sit with her. Reaching into the pocket of her coat, she pulled out a box of cigarettes. And then she remembered that Mirai was there too. Sighing, she reached for one of the glasses of sake instead. She threw the drink back before she looked at Sakura. Pointing at her with the glass. 

“This is your fault too, you know,” Tsunade accused.

“Kouchou, don’t be like that!” one of the men protested.

“Yeah! Leave Sakura-chan alone!” another shouted.

But to everyone’s surprise, Sakura sat there like a child being scolded. And she nodded.

“You should’ve just come out to the public about it,” Tsunade went on.

“Or at least quietly announced it a little while later,” Kushina added. All the other women nodded. 

“You can blame him all you want, but you agreed to keep up this farce,” Yoshino contributed, “And now it’s coming back to bite you two in the ass.”

“You can spend all your time pointing your finger at your ex, but there are two guilty parties here,” Kurenai pointed out. 

Sakura nodded again. 

Naruto opened his mouth. Minato and Asuma promptly clapped their hands over his face, pulling him backwards. 

“So, we have to figure out how to resolve this as wisely as possible. And it starts with you taking responsibility for your own mistakes,” Tsunade declared, pointing at Sakura with the glass again. She squinted at her before she threw back another drink. 

“You mean I have to tell the truth?” asked Sakura.

The older women all nodded. 

“This sucks. I don’t wanna,” Sakura whined. 

“That’s like... 90% of adulthood. Sorry, kiddo,” Tsume chuckled, slapping her on the shoulder. 

When Kimimaro arrived at the train station a week later, people stared. Partly because he was a new face. And new faces were so rare in this little town. But mostly because he was a new face that almost everyone knew. And those who didn’t only had to whisper to their neighbors to find out. 

Sakura spotted him standing in front of her house. She walked up to him, hefting her duffle bag over her shoulder. He was dressed in a nice trench coat, carrying a a classy leather bag. And she was in joggers and a faded sweatshirt.

“Hey. I was just going to call-” he greeted her, lifting his hand. He still carried his train ticket together with his phone.

“Don’t care. We’re getting a drink,” she interrupted him. Grabbing him by the strap of his bag, she began pulling him down the street. All the way to Genma’s bar. She dragged him inside. Genma’s head jerked up when she barged in. But he poured out two beers before she could ask. 

As Genma dropped the drinks off, he fixed Kimimaro with a particularly evil glare. Kimimaro just looked confused. And then he looked at Sakura. 

She pressed her fingertips to her lips, staring back at him. And then she moved her hand. 

“No,” was all she said.

Kimimaro blinked. “To the documentary?” he questioned.

“To everything. All of it,” Sakura replied. Waving her hands around. As if saying no to the oxygen in the air too. Her hands dropped into her lap. 

Kimimaro took a sip of his beer. He set it back down right in the middle of the coaster. 

“Just until the end of this season? There’s only a few months left,” he asked, his voice low and even. He avoided looking into her eyes. 

“Oh sure,” Sakura retorted, “Just a few more months. Wait, no, years and we can fake-celebrate our 10th anniversary. And then our 25th. And then at my funeral, you can fake-mourn as my fake-husband.” A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. 

“I’m older than you. Don’t you think I’d die first?” Kimimaro pointed out.

“No. Because you’ll stress me out to my early grave at this rate,” she replied, snide. 

Kimimaro turned his glass around, staring at the gold bubbles that fizzed up to the top. Sakura took a sip of her drink. And then stared at her glass. She smacked her lips together a few times. When she twisted to look at Genma at the bar, he winked at her. He had definitely poured a shot of sake into her beer. 

Sakura turned back to Kimimaro. He looked... exhausted. Like he always did during the heart of the skating season. Four Continents were only a couple weeks away. And then Worlds was just a month after that. 

“....Hanabi-chan had a good debut. Her programs have ben solid. Her skating’s still rough around the edges, but that’ll improve with time. The ‘scandal’ of her coach divorcing won’t derail her career,” she assured him, a little more gently. HIs eyes finally met hers. 

“And this isn’t fair to either of us.... especially me,” Sakura added.

“Unfair? What do you mean?” Kimimaro inquired. 

Sakura bit her lower lip. She cast a furtive glance around the bar. Everyone inside was doing a good job of pretending that they weren’t eavesdropping. But they totally were. Sakura grabbed the menu from the plastic holder on the wall. She propped it up on the side of the table, creating a makeshift barrier. She hunched over, hiding her face behind it, motioning for him to copy her. Kimimaro also ducked. 

“Because I moved all the way back home to get away from all the skating and to try to forget the fact that my marriage failed. And I’m really happy with my life down here and this is kind of ruining my zen!” she whispered.

“I already apologized for some of that stuff,” he whispered back. 

“You don’t have to apologize. Just help me fix it,” Sakura hissed. 

They both straightened. People quickly looked away, acting like they hadn’t been staring.

Clearing her throat, Sakura shoved the menu back into its original spot. 

“If Utakata-san seriously comes to film that special or whatever, I’m going to say that we’re divorced. I’m just telling you right now,” Sakura warned. Kimimaro looked down at his hands. His ring finger was bare too. 

And then a thought occurred to Sakura. A little random. And unlikely. But she decided to try anyway. 

“...Is Hanabi-chan not the only reason you’re being so stubborn about this?” she inquired. 

Kimimaro laced his fingers together. He let out a deep sigh. 

“It’s going to be... crazy,” he said. She opened her mouth. And then closed it. 

“I’ll be getting calls about it. Reporters will be in my face anytime we’re at a public event. There’ll be all those dumb articles,” he listed. And then he snorted. 

“Plus I’ll get all that hate mail from your fans,” he added. 

“I will too. From your fans,” she pointed out. 

They sat together. And she remembered how timid Kimimaro could be. She forgot sometimes. All his confidence was on the ice. Off it, he was kind of a coward. And so was she, in a lot of ways. 

Taking a deep breath, she pulled out her phone. 

“Let’s just do it now,” she suggested.

Kimimaro’s eyes went wide. Gaze flickering from her, down to her phone. But she smiled at him. And after a long time, he nodded. 

Sakura posted an old photo to her Instagram. It was of the cover of a skating magazine. She remembered that photoshoot. It was only a couple weeks after their wedding ceremony. And the words splashed across the cover said things like ‘Skating’s Power Couple’. It was just after they had both won gold medals at the World Championships.  They were both so happy, mouths open wide, mid-laugh. They had laughed at everything back then. Everything was so fun and exciting. The make-up artists hadn’t needed to apply blush to either of them.

The caption under the post was long. It took them almost an hour to write together. They quarreled about wording certain things. Debated on what to leave out. But in the end, they held hands as she hit ‘post’. 

As soon as she did, they both were busy silencing notifications on all their social media. Twitter, instagram, all the usual outlets. They locked pinkies.

“No interviews. No statements. No social media for a month,” Sakura reminded him. 

“Deal,” Kimimaro promised. 

Hello, dear fans,

It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything to this account. Today, Kimimaro-san and I are releasing a joint statement. And it’s our hope that you will try your best to be understanding. 

Kimimaro-san and I divorced a little less than a year ago. We’re very sorry to have deceived everyone. At the time, we thought it was the best decision. It was partly out of a desire to maintain our privacy, but it also came from a place of real hurt. It took us almost a year to finally be able to sit down and talk things through. Which is why we’re writing to you now.

I’m sure that many people will be hurt and even betrayed by this news. We ask that our fans please refrain from taking sides or assigning blame. There was no cheating. No secret scandal. Ultimately, our years together were some of the happiest moments of our lives. But we married very young without knowing how we would grow and change as people. Though our lives together were filled with such happiness, it’s come to the point where we need to go our separate ways. 

We’re still in the process of becoming friends again. Because that’s what we were first. It’ll take us some time, but we ask that you please be patient with us in the meantime.

-Sakura and Kimimaro

[geekiemind]

The Summer Breeze Review

Book Review: The  Summer Breeze Was A very Refreshing Read and I couldn’t of asked for more it lived to it's in the sense that it gives you that calming effect as you join callie on her adventure. After She Finds Herself in a rut Always Focused on Her career and she eventually finds herself in her current situation not knowing if all the time she has wasted was worth it. She Escapes To her Quiet and Calming Country Childhood Home To Be Surrounded By Family and Friends.

Callie is a Well Rounded Character I Loved How She was Strong, Vulnerable, Capable, Funny and Brave. It Went Well With the story and her Character Development was Fascinating.

The World Building Went Hand in Hand with All The Small side Stories in the Book The Author Has  A Natural Talent to weave them all into the boo without them taking over story and with that it Allowed us to get to know the characters and relate to them  All The Characters Were Well Rounded and had Just The Right Amount of Spotlight.

Another thing I Noticed and Cared for was The Fact that the book Did Not Become About Her Trying to Finding Romance, I enjoyed the Fact That It was Mainly About Her and Getting what she wanted Adding Romance as A bonus not the Main goal.

I Will Be Giving this Book a 4.5/5 Book Info:

Book Summary

Callie Williams is tired. Tired of her fast-paced life in New York City. Tired of the demanding hours of her successful career. And even more tired of her demanding fiancé. An unexpected visit and the discovery of a secret upend her life, and she is forced to make the decision to leave it all behind in search of something different…something more.

Moving back to her parents’ beautiful country home, Callie busies herself planning her younger sister’s wedding and helping her develop a new reality TV show. But despite being surrounded by her loving family, Callie finds herself feeling increasingly lonely and aimless. She yearns to find a place for herself – a place where she can be her own boss.

After months of self-reflection, Callie makes the life changing decision to open her own bed and breakfast...a decision that will bring her to the beautiful lakeside town of Seneca Springs and a major home renovation. Dealing with contractors and craftsmen, all while navigating the complexities of small-town life, will pose one of the greatest challenges she’s faced. But, along the way, she begins to forge lifelong friendships, eats more than her fair share of delicious food, and tries not to meddle in the lives of her guests.

As construction on The Summer Breeze Bed & Breakfast expands to include a spa, Callie meets Nick, a gorgeous, rough-around-the-edges construction worker who takes every chance he can to get under Callie’s skin. Past experience has made Callie question her taste in men, but there’s no denying the attraction between her and Nick. A late-night delivery will tear them apart, but a quintessential nor’easter snowstorm might just force them back together….

Book Links

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Summer-Breeze-Shail-Rajan-ebook/dp/B08Q7BMFFM/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1609725196&sr=8-1

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56237116-the-summer-breeze?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=Aqn1PV8vfP&rank=1 Shail Rajan celebrates the joys of family, friendships, food and falling in love in her debut novel The Summer Breeze, which takes place in beautiful Upstate New York where she grew up and which she loves dearly. Shail now lives all the way on the opposite coast in the Bay Area with her husband and three children. When she's not writing and reading, she loves to volunteer, cooks nonstop, takes on the occasional DIY project, and obsesses over her vegetable garden. Connect with Shail to get the latest on new releases and for some great recipes inspired by The Summer Breeze! Visit her website: https://www.shailrajan.com/ Website: https://www.shailrajan.com/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/shailrajan Facebook: https://m.facebook.com/shailrajanauthor Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20957911.Shail_Rajan?from_search=true&from_srp=true Instagram: https://instagram.com/shailrajanauthor

Follow The Tour: March 15 Books in the Skye https://BooksintheSkye.wordpress.com March 15 hercrazybooksta instagram.com/hercrazybooksta March 17 What She Will Read https://auburnedge.wixsite.com/blog March 18 whisperingourstories https://instagram.com/whisperingourstories?igshid=tnhiv8vev1l3 March 18 Sadie's Spotlight http://sadiesspotlight.com/ March 19 Love, Paola https://lovepaolaa.wordpress.com/

[apexhe]

familial  relations   /   re:   ana  fitzgerald

          your  mother  is  born  to  benigno  and  camila  correa  in  the  small  town  of  lares,   puerto  rico.   she  lives  in  this  town  for  three  years  before  her  family  relocates  to  louisiana  for  her  father’s  job;   she  remembers  nothing  of  the  country.   hoping  to  preserve  her  identity,   your  grandparents  hire  a  puerto  rican  caretaker  to  watch  after  her  while  they  work:   twenty-three  year  old  dayanara  vargas,   who  accepts  the  position  because  she,   too,   came  to  the  states  from  lares  and  views  this  coincidence  as  a  sign.   despite  dayanara’s  efforts,   your  mother  is  swiftly  americanized.   she  graduates  valedictorian  of  her  high  school,   president  of  the  national  honor  society,  and  acceptor  of  the  most  likely  to  succeed  superlative.   she  goes  on  to  college  for  a  double  major  in  political  science  and  public  policy,   attending  law  school  at  tulane  university.   she  is  hired  by  a  corporate  law  firm  immediately  upon  graduation,   despite  her  preference  for  family  law.

          she  serves  as  second  chair  defense  in  a  major  lawsuit  when  she  meets  thomas  fitzgerald,   the  son  of  the  ceo.   he  is  handsome  and  charming  and  articulate;   he  changes  her  opinions  on  marriage  within  a  year.   it  is  during  their  engagement  at  twenty-eight  years  old  that,   with  trembling  hand  and  pounding  heart,   she  confirms  that  she  is  pregnant  with  you.   your  conception  had  been  an  accident:   a  big  win  for  your  mother  on  your  father’s  behalf,   too  much  champagne,   a  hasty  climax.   she  has  never  wanted  a  child.   it’s  one  of  the  first  things  she  told  your  father   —   and,   to  her  relief,   he  did  not  want  a  child  either   —   but  her  catholic  upbringing  prevents  her  from  even  considering  abortion,   despite  her  departure  from  the  faith  during  middle  school.   her  marriage  to  your  father  is  swiftly  expedited,   and  your  grandparents  are  thrilled  at  the  turn  of  events.   you  are  brought  into  the  world  some  months  later  via  cesarean  section.   your  parents  move  to  lakewood  immediately  after.

          you  are  baptized  in  your  mother’s  childhood  faith  despite  disapproval  from  your  father  and  with  the  stipulation  that  you  attend  a  protestant  church  after  your  confirmation.   she  is  back  to  work  sooner  than  she  is  physically  able,   but  she  hires  her  own  trusted  caretaker,   dayanara,   to  live  in  their  home  to  care  for  you   ——   again,   despite  disapproval  from  your  father.   your  mother  is  around  for  your  childhood  more  often  than  your  father  is,   if  only  because  her  occupation  does  not  demand  the  same  amount  of  traveling,   and  because  of  this  you  develop  a  greater  fondness  for  her.   she  has  never  been  affectionate,   but  she  tries  for  you:   chaste  kisses  on  the  forehead  as  she  rushes  out  the  door,   hugs  when  you  accomplish  things,   strokes  to  the  mess  of  chocolate  curls  atop  your  head  which  do  so  resemble  her  own.   you  wake  up  numerous  times  to  find  her  asleep  beside  you;   even  as  a  child,   you  know  this  is  because  your  father  is  not  home.

          once  you  are  grown,   your  mother  is  home  less  and  less  frequently.   her  career  is  her  priority,   and  you  have  never  resented  her  for  this,   for  she  has  always  tried  to  prioritize  you  as  well;   but  even  now  that  you  have  sprouted  a  foot  taller  than  her  and  find  yourself  grateful  for  the  freedom  awarded  to  you,   some  unacknowledged  part  of  you  wishes  she  would  teeter  to  the  tip  of  her  louboutins  and  kiss  your  cheek  before  she  disappears  through  the  door  once  in  a  while,   wishes  she  would  hug  you  after  you  ace  a  test,   wishes  she  would  rummage  her  fingers  through  locks  which  have  long  since  lost  the  majority  of  their  coils  and  tell  you  to  get  a  haircut.   you  wouldn’t  even  mind  if  she  reprimanded  you  for  your  excessive  partying  at  this  point.  certainly  she  is  your  mother,   but  you  have  never  viewed  her  as  your  mom.

familial  relations   /   re:   thomas  fitzgerald

          your  father  is  born  to  christian  and  elizabeth  fitzgerald  in  the  big  city  of  baton  rouge,   louisiana.   he  is  born  with  a  silver  spoon  in  his  mouth.   his  own  father  always  wanted  kids,   but  found  himself  unable  to  balance  family  with  his  company  once  his  son  is  born;   your  grandfather's  lack  of  attention  to  your  father  is  made  up  in  material  objects.   if  he  cannot  be  there  for  your  father  himself,   he  will  make  sure  his  son  never  wants  for  anything.   and  your  father  never  does.   he  goes  to  a  private  high  school  and  graduates  fifty-second  in  his  class,   quarterback  of  the  football  team,   and  acceptor  of  the  most  likely  to  throw  a  rager  on  a  school  night  superlative  after  a  buddy  on  the  yearbook  team  changed  it  without  the  teachers  knowing.   he  goes  to  a  local  college  for  a  major  in  business  and  a  certificate  in  economics.   he  is  hired  by  his  father,   the  ceo  of  one  of  the  largest  businesses  of  louisiana,   with  the  knowledge  that  he  will  one  day  take  over  the  company.

          it  is  while  serving  as  proxy  for  his  father  in  a  courtroom,   still  slightly  drunk  and  completely  disinterested,   that  your  father  lays  eyes  upon  ana  correa.   he  watches  in  wonder  as  she  singlehandedly  gets  the  case  thrown  out  of  court  and  grins  as  she  glares  at  the  members  of  his  board  who  come  to  congratulate  the  first  chair  instead.   he  grabs  her  outside  of  the  courthouse  with  a  coffee  and  the  expectations  of  a  brief,  casual  affair,   but  she  proves  to  be  as  quick-witted  as  she  is  beautiful,   and  he  falls  so  hard  that  he  proposes  within  a  year.   it  is  during  their  engagement  at  twenty-nine  years  old  that,   with  fallen  heart  and  stopped  breath,   he  finds  out  that  he  is  going  to  be  a  father.   he  has  never  wanted  a  child.   the  day  your  mother  approached  him  and  told  him  she  didn’t  either  was  the  day  he  bought  the  engagement  ring.   her  opposition  to  a  child  born  out  of  wedlock  has  them  married  sooner  than  he  planned,   and  you  are  in  his  arms  before  he  has  a  chance  to  catch  his  breath.

          he  grimaces  through  your  baptism,   raised  loosely  protestant  but  with  a  distaste  for  catholicism  passed  down  by  his  mother,   something  he  never  thought  would  be  an  issue  in  his  relationship.   he  takes  no  time  off  for  your  birth,   but  some  time  between  meeting  your  mother  and  your  birth  does  he  clean  up  his  act.   his  spare  attitude  shifts  to  that  of  an  heir,   and  he  is  overjoyed  that  his  father  steps  down  as  ceo  within  a  year  of  your  birth.   he  is  rarely  home  and  does  not  show  you  affection.   he  is  everything  his  father  had  been  without  the  yearning  for  a  child  of  his  own,   and  he  appeases  your  need  for  attention  with  material  objects.   he  also  teaches  you  your  importance  from  a  young  age.   you  are  a  fitzgerald,   another  in  the  line  of  powerful  men,   and  you  deserve  to  be  treated  as  such.   these  are  the  bedtime  stories  you  know  from  him,   the  prayers  you  are  taught  to  remember.   you  get  what  you  want.

          once  you  are  grown,   your  father  continues  his  absence.   his  career  is  his  priority,   and  you  have  always  resented  him  for  this,   for  he  has  never  tried  to  prioritize  you  as  well.   you  contact  him  when  you  need  your  bank  account  topped  off  or  the  liquor  cabinet  refilled,   and  he  contacts  you  when  he  needs  to  know  what  trouble  to  get  you  out  of  or  for  you  to  tell  your  mom  he  won’t  make  it  to  christmas  mass  for  the  third  year  in  a  row.   despite  the  inflated  sense  of  self  worth  he  passes  on  to  you,   you  know  that  he  harbors  some  semblance  of  disappointment  in  you.   you  have  long  since  stopped  trying  to  be  good  enough,   since  his  lack  of  affection  comes  coupled  with  a  lack  of  anger.   you  can  do  as  much  wrong  as  you  like,   and  he  will  wordlessly  clean  up  behind  you.   certainly  he  is  your  father,   but  you  have  never  viewed  him  as  your  dad.

familial  relations   /   re:   dayanara  vargas

          dayanara  vargas  is  born  to  adolfo  figueroa  and  dayanara  vargas  in  the  small  town  of  lares,   puerto  rico.   her  mother’s  name  is  all  she  receives  from  her,   for  she  is  abandoned  with  a  neighbor  during  infancy.   the  woman  who  unofficially  adopts  her  ensures  she  is  baptized  and  confirmed  catholic  and  raised  with  a  healthy  fear  of  god,   receives  the  equivalent  of  a  high  school  education,   and  understands  the  intricacies  of  avoiding  the   mal  de  ojo.   daya  secures  a  job  as  a  governess  for  the  children  in  her  town.   she  views  the  united  states  as  a  land  of  freedom  and  opportunity,   so  she  stashes  away  all  the  money  she  can  afford  to  from  that  job  in  order  to  eventually  move.   she  teaches  herself  english,   takes  every  opportunity  she  can  to  understand  the  culture  while  maintaining  her  own,   and  shares  her  accumulated  knowledge  with  the  children  she  cares  for.   she  decides  to  make  the  move  to  louisiana  at  twenty-two  years  old,   after  her  adoptive  mother  dies  from  a  heart  attack.

          she  meets  your  grandmother  by  chance  a  year  after  that.   they  wind  up  beside  one  another  on  public  transportation,   your  grandmother  desperately  trying  to  calm  your  mother’s  tantrum.   she  expresses  her  empathy,   explains  that  though  she  has  no  children  of  her  own,   she  was  a  governess  back  home.   home,   they  soon  realize,   is  the  same  for  both  of  them.   daya  has  never  believed  in  coincidences,   and  when  camila  offers  her  an  admittedly  small  salary  to  care  for  your  mother  while  she  and  her  husband  work,   she  knows  this  is  god  guiding her.   she  cares  for  your  mother  until  she  is  no  longer  needed.   after  this,   she  meets  a  man,   felix,   who  she  falls  in  love  with  and  who  makes  enough  to  support  the  both  of  them,   marries  him,   and  tries  for  a  child.   she  believes  in  the  rule  of  three,   so  after  two  miscarriages,   daya  decides  to  stop  trying.   her  husband  passes  in  his  sleep  not  long  after.

          a  decade  and  a  half  passes  before  she  reconnects  with  your  mother,   who  seeks  her  out  to  care  for  you.   she  is  ready  to  decline  the  offer  when  she  is  told  your  birthday:   december  4th,   the  same  day  felix  died,   even  if  it  is  years  later.   she  knows  this,   too,   is  god  guiding  her,   so  she  accepts  and  moves  into  your  home.   she  grows  to  love  you  enough  to  make  up  for  the  parents  who  have  all  but  abandoned  you,   and  she  cares  for  you  as  if  you  are  the  child  she  was  not  fated  to  have.   she  teaches  you  about  your  shared  culture,   speaks  to  you  only  in  spanish  so  that  you  learn  it  as  well,   and  takes  you  to  catholic  mass  behind  your  father’s  back.   you  learn  the  intricacies  of  her  faith,   her  beliefs,   her  superstitions.   your  father  threatens  to  fire  her  when,   at  five  years  old,   you  angrily  explain  to  him  that  you  have  put  an  upside-down  broom  beside  the  door  because  he  is  an  unwelcome  guest  and  doing  so  will  make  him  leave.   she  consoles  you  as  you  blubber  at  the  thought  of  losing  her.

          once  you  are  grown,   daya  knows  you  for  who  you  are,   and  she  loves  you  for  all  the  flaws  you  have  gleaned  from  the  man  she  hates.   it  is  with  love  that  she  reams  you  out  for  skipping  class,   wakes  you  at  dawn  after  parties  to  help  her  clean  up,   whacks  you  in  the  back  of  your  head  for  cursing  even  though  she  has  to  stretch  to  reach  it  now.   it  is  with  love  that  you  tease  her  relentlessly,   abide  by  learned  superstitions  despite  no  longer  believing  them,   do  some  chores  once  in  a  while  to  lighten  her  workload.   you  know  that  where  your  parents  don’t  care,   daya  will;   this  is  why  you  beam  so  fondly  at  her  when  she  rails  into  you  in  her  native  tongue.   she  is  the  inherent  goodness  instilled  in  your  heart.   certainly  she  is  not  your  mother,   but  you  have  always  viewed  her  as  your  mom.

[worldcakecakecake]

Feliciano and the King of Hearts

Chosen by the gods as the Queen of Hearts from the moment of birth, we follow Feliciano’s story as he grows into royal life, learns to rule, go against age old customs, and his relationship with his husband to be, the King of Hearts.

Chapter 1 I  Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 IChapter 9I Chapter 10 I Chapter 11I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15 I Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19 I Chapter 20 I Chapter 21 I Chapter 22 I Chapter 23 I Chapter 24 I Chapter 25 I Chapter 26 I Chapter 27 I Chapter 28 I Chapter 29 I Chapter 30 I Chapter 31 I Chapter 32 I Chapter 33 I Chapter 34 I Chapter 35 I Chapter 36 I Chapter 37 I chapter 38 I Chapter 39 I Chapter 40 I Chapter 41 I Chapter 42 I Chapter 43 I Chapter 44 I Chapter 45 I Chapter 46

Yet another long chapter, but not as long as the last two, but still long. I believe this to be a rather important chapter and I hope it is the same for you. I really hope you enjoy!

                                                  Chapter 47

They honestly thought he could find some rest, that his eyes wouldn’t remain awake for minutes on end, that every sleep wouldn’t have a different nightmare, a different duty, an awaiting that only brought more stress in Feliciano’s dreams. When the trumpets sounded for their awakening, Feliciano was groggy, strained in every movement in his preparation. Any tiredness was washed away with soaps and creams, Feliciano having to relax his thoughts in the pettings he gave to Pookie and the details to his new wear. It was custom to wear these white suits, tightening, with all kinds of seals but miniscule designs of silver and gold that flourished beautifully. It had once been clothing cultural to the White kingdom, as so, in honor for its loss and Pisa’s own, the Heart royals wore these when receiving the last of the validity spheres and in their final route to place them all in the awaiting field…which now Feliciano knew had stood for longer, created by the Aces, a defeat by Augusta, a defeat he would have to do himself.

 Another strain, another hurt, after he told himself he wouldn’t dare keep his thoughts so prominent in that reveal from last night.

 There was a knock at the door, along with a: “It’s time, your highness.” A servant surely, with others ready to take out his luggage which he had already prepared in a corner to leave. He exited the room, smiling, complimenting and thanking them for their own compliments to himself, trying to show some excitement, some order and confidence as he was led through the halls of the castle. Soon enough the doors to the throne room were before him and with a nod from the guards it was opened, only him allowed entrance, the doors falling immediately shut after. Ivan, Elizabeta and Roderich were already there, dressed in white as expected, tired eyes, but with enough to wave and greet into their presence. Feliciano neared and honestly wanted a hug, but he knew in the situation it would be rather inappropriate.

 “How are you feeling now?” Elizabeta asked, at least offering a comforting a hand to his arm.

 Feliciano could only sigh, with it trying to pull out more strength, to instead let his smile shine. “Be-better.” That smile worked well, Elizabeta confiding in it for now.

 Any other words that wanted to be said were interrupted by the loud echo of the doors opening, in coming the last member they needed, in his own white suit, primed, shinning and ready, making his way towards them nonchalantly, quiet, the only offered greeting but a bow that the rest answered to in reciprocation.

 “Shall we begin then?” Elizabeta introduced, pointing to the empty orbs standing behind them in a chest.

 All agreed, the three Club royals taking their own blank sphere, settling into an organized position over the floors of the room. Feliciano gazed to the marble, and once again, the images of the stars, the reminder, the coming, Feliciano reaching the understanding that perhaps these floors remained in the throne rooms as a warning to the Kings, Queens and Jacks, a silent one that no one bothered to analyze or find for themselves for centuries.

 He groaned to himself, scolding for letting his mind once again traverse through this, raising his eyes and settling them on…Ludwig. He stood tall, the only movement given to him being the slow breathing he took, almost unaware, attentive to his duty as per usual. Feliciano’s gaze was longing, it remained and with the corner of Ludwig’s eyes he had captured that bronze stare.

 “What?” He demanded, angry and intimidating.

 Feliciano quickly turned away, “nothing.”

 Ludwig didn’t give it more thought and let his gaze remain on the procedures that were to take place, but Feliciano’s mind couldn’t remain with that same stillness as Ludwig had taken.

 The images of those relics repeated, Feliciano reminded of how Ludwig’s own ancestor was a Jack and fought alongside his own, he thought of Romulus, of his death wanting to protect his love, of the letter…the letter…he gazed to Ludwig once again as if he could read it before him, but it only earned him another glare from the blond, a command to pay attention instead to what was occurring; they were to begin.

 Roderich decided on going first, all graceful air even in his preparation, determined to not come out as unfazed as he had read. He extended, he silenced, he let himself alight in the usual glow, in the float, in the pouring and in the feeling. He stumbled, but quickly got his composure, riding of the sweat that began to fall, standing as if it wasn’t there, as if his lips weren’t trembling and his eyes hadn’t watered. His orb shone in an ivy green color, with a glitter and hue of white, a beauty that surely made Roderich proud.

 Ivan raised a hand declaring his turn, both Elizabeta and Roderich nodded, giving him the space to extend, for him to breathe and find his control. The glow, the rise, the filling, and once done, he actually took the most graceful drop down, seeming unperturbed, if only but a slight strain shown in the way he shook his head. Roderich grew rather jealous, but the second orb was done so that was the only thing that mattered. It was in the kingdom’s royal green with streaks of silver mixed, some larger, some thinner, but a shining beauty none the less.

 And finally it was Elizabeta’s turn, who stood between them, still dealing with her breathing, if slightly nervous, finding the correct calm, the correct fall to her power that called her release, until finally she had her own glow, her own levitation and the filling of the orb started. Around and around her hold until she landed once again on the floor, close to tripping backward if Roderich hadn’t caught her just in time. Ivan offered his hand for her to come into balance, a massive headache still reigning in her head that made her groan, trying to rub it off away as she presented her orb. A green color, slightly lighter than the royal one, with sharp edges of white with green dots between, peculiar and making her orb stand out differently.

 They were all done, the last orbs, ready to be taken and the three just seemed anxious to have them off their hands already.

 It was Ludwig’s turn for movement as he presented the staff, evoking the right spell in his mind, and finally, all the sockets in the orb alighted, completed and sure, an item with finality that was ready.

 “And you are done,” Elizabeta congratulated happily.

 “It won’t be official until the orbs are placed in the field,” Roderich commented.

 “Come now, we must set off immediately!” Ivan ushered them forward, not a chance to speak or halt, between rushing servants all leading to the exit where once again they were welcomed with the same horses of their arrival. More guards than the last time were positioned around, many holding to the three royal horses waiting patiently for their assigned riders.

 Ivan, Ludwig and Feliciano were not permitted to show any hesitation in reaching their horses, in preparing them, mounting and awaiting any signal for their begin. Shouts were exchanged in Russian as Ivan called out different commands, most preparing hoods over their heads for the clouding skies.

 How somber, Feliciano realized, but also fitting and giving a fright to what was coming. He tried to sink down any thoughts about what the weather must have been like for when Khaos and Augusta fought, or when other royals came to place the spheres.

 Rain began to sparkle down and it was enough of a declare for all the men to begin their movement. Only Ivan joined them, Roderich and Elizabeta wishing farewells from the entrance, continuing in their waves until the large group of men continued forward, through the soaking streets, civilians taking peek from their windows, shouting good byes and luck and Feliciano answered to them back in the same intent, really hoping all these words and blessings could work them well in not only the placing in the field, but all the rest that he knew he would need it in.

 No matter what was going on, Feliciano’s head now continuously had the haunting of the preparations to face Khaos, the monstrous form still shown before him, even if down in the cave, even if months from now, even if he wasn’t to meet him yet…but he would be close, to the field of antiquity, to the field where his great grandfather fell and his great grandmother came out victorious.

 They passed over the bridge, a landmark that pointed one to its sure direction, forward and coming, no turning back, their duty was coming and the finalization was approaching.

  After a whole day of traveling, they arrived that late afternoon at a village named Tiksi. It was small, with only a handful of inhabitants that were mostly guards with their daring families. It was the closest village to the field, entrapped well between trees and few drops of snow to try and make it unnoticeable to any Khaos’s men that was recently released. Many feared coming here because of its closeness to the field, especially when there was an eerie darkness with the untouched plentitude of the forest that left the routes deeper into the woods fearsome. Even the guards were terrified of going more than the established limits, their only mission being to stop any Khaos’s men they caught or send messages to the Clubian royals for if an emergency occurred. The only ones allowed to go southern than it was permitted were the King and Queen of Hearts every so fifty years for the placing.

 It was an honor for the inhabitants, who all came out to greet this arising King and Queen, with an enormous hospitality that tempted Feliciano to stay longer. They had such amazing stories about tracking down members of Khaos, of their tactics if some reached the village or if an emergency occurred. Some held relics from when past King and Queens had come, and some even told about their experiences of back when Aldrich and Louis had come themselves.

 “-this, we believe was a bracelet that belonged to your great grandfather, Romulus,” a woman presented Feliciano with a brazen ancient bracelet, the image of a lion on its front, covered then with red stones and a repetitive Hearts symbol. As Feliciano inspected it, the women began talking about all the great stories they had heard about Romulus, of how they admired him, his feats, his triumphs…all that Feliciano knew now truly belonged to Augusta, yet he smiled on, he was still compliant to the stories because they just didn’t know. It was a headache that should be for himself and so he nodded, letting his hands trace around the bracelet, as if trying to find the ancient warmth of his great grandfather…if it even was his in the first place.

 Suddenly there was a tremor, almost like thunder, skies slightly alighting in green and white before it instantly came down. There was silence as they all gazed forward to the depths of the forest, but just like that, the regular inhabitants went back to business, but some guards were sent forward to the near forest, while only the newcomers starred on in confusion.

 “What was that?” Feliciano asked, interrupting whatever they were talking about.

 “It was the field,” one began to explain.

 “It can be many things. Since the last Validity Spheres are slowly losing its power, it creates this sort of ripple throughout as it weakens. Sometimes Khaos uses it and tries to escape, but they always have some juice enough to hold him back during this time. But, some of Khaos’s men do manage to pass through,”

 “Which is why those guards headed out?”

 “Exactly, to see if they could catch them before they go any further. Sometimes it fails, but sometimes they get a few.”

 “Other times it ripples when Khaos is testing something new to get out. A big explosion was once documented, but nothing occurred to break it luckily.”

 Nothing could happen now and so the people continued on with their activities, the children playing, others talking on lively with laughter.

 Yes, nothing could happen now…but in a year…

 He dared gaze forward to the darkness of the forest of night, through where he and Ludwig would pass through in the morning, imagining the disasters that raged through here in the past…and would do so in the future. He quickly wrote in his sketchbook a reminder to have these people evacuated a couple of months before…he wouldn’t let this light disappear under Khaos’s darkness.

 Another light, another thundering, another silence and even the children stopped playing as they gazed on to the skies in fear.

 “Your highness, I think it’s best you and the prince settle off to sleep now,” one woman suggested.

 “When it constantly happens like this, it means the field is weakening,” another pointed.

 “The new ones have to be placed tomorrow, it’s in dire need of them,” one actually worried, showcasing the inner fear that most people in this village tried to hide.

 He followed that command and went to his assigned cabin for the night. It was large enough to let Ludwig and Feliciano have separate rooms, both so distant that Feliciano could barely feel his presence, like the cabin was empty, with no extra breaths or steps to give it more life.

 When he fell against the bed, he didn’t find immediate rest as he had hoped, he was still nervous and anxious, eyes awake, an occasional grip to his sheets as images were made in his head of the danger he was getting so close to. The added thunder and occasional glowing lights of the sky added more to his disarray, the only comfort being Pookie’s nuzzle, enough of a distraction to make him forget, to let him slowly fall into dream trying to forget the haunts.

  What awoke him the next morning was the hurried pacing and loud speaking of the villagers and guards, already preparing for their departure. He only received a gentle knock at the door from Ludwig. Feliciano answered and Ludwig’s steps were gone outside to wait.

 They were dressed once again in the same whites from yesterday, and although the soft and rich fabric, it was thin enough to make Feliciano shiver as he headed outside into the new fresh coldness of the day, a new batch of snow falling, greying the skies and tainting more the surroundings in white. A guard offered him a black cloak, heavy and bringing just the right warmth to be able to move forward to where a group of villagers reunited along with Ivan, Ludwig already standing with his assigned horse, Feliciano’s waiting…it was time.

 All helped what they could in mounting, in placing their bags and making sure they were secured enough.

 “These horses can only accompany you till the limit, it’s marked with Heartian Chrysanthemums, from there you must both walk alone. Different marks will lead you forward until you reach a large white empty field, circle around it until you find an old pedestal, upon your touch it should increase and open for the placing. You must take the old ones with you to return in Rome, and once done, you shall come back to Tiksi to assure us all of your safe arrival. We shall then organize your trip back to Berlin and send messages with your wellbeing and completion,” Ivan told, confident, clear and sure, not letting go of their reins until he could see the understanding in their eyes.

 They both nodded, gazing then to the hazed road just for them, deeper into these dark forbidden woods, even with daylight.

 “Come on,” Ludwig began, setting his horse to move forward, a slow pace that Feliciano could follow, the smaller waving to the village and the very village waving back in luck.

 The further they went, the more they turned into darkness, to match with the enclosure around them, leaving them in pure loneliness, into a precipice that couldn’t grant another hand, another help. This was it, it was almost before them and Feliciano made sure to keep his breaths easy, repeating to himself that nothing was going to go wrong, that soon enough they would be returning to plan their way home.

 Yes, home, soon he would be back in Italy before settling to Berlin. It was just this, just this.

 They continued on their galloping for a while, passing much of the same trees and brooks, quite repetitive. They surely would have gotten lost if it hadn’t been marked properly with constant clues.

 The cold got more intense, and no matter how much Feliciano brought the cloak tighter around him and Pookie, it didn’t stop his breath from misting, his shivering and slumping against the horse trying to receive any warmth he could.

 Finally, they spotted the lines of red chrysanthemums and Ludwig halted them, the horses obedient, their hooves and whining the only sound for miles. There was not a fall, a river, not a cricket, the flap of a bird, or dragon, or phoenix to join in a melody, even just Ludwig and Feliciano’s step as they dismounted echoed heavily, a new kind of shivering reaching Feliciano that had nothing to do with the cold.

 The trees here began to sparse, the snow quite blinding and making them think that a mist was growing, trying to elude and halt them. It made Feliciano more hesitant to continue, but Ludwig somehow had something in him that made him more daring, piercing the very distance with his eyes without a care.

 “Come,” he only said, ushering Feliciano to move forward, only one bag over his shoulder, patient enough to wait, to get his movements, letting them stand close together as they now ventured forward on foot.

 It was more solemn, a silence that only brought more agitation, well at least to Feliciano. From what he could see, Ludwig’s tall back was as fierce and strong as if this was simply a windy meadow, unfazed and brave. It was honestly how he would have preferred to be at that moment, without poison in his mind, hunted enough already by what he found two nights ago.

 At some point, their steps weren’t enough, it only helped grow his anxiety, reminding that each movement was bringing them closer, and he determined to bring something of sound, something of an opening from Ludwig. As he gazed forward to him…he couldn’t believe he still hoped…he still desired…and then that letter…that letter. Perhaps if he…

 “So um…” he tried to start, testing out. Ludwig walked on like nothing. “I uh…I know who Augusta is now,” he admitted first, shyly and nervous, while Ludwig only gave him a simple glance before continuing forward.

 He had thought that would work, especially after long ago it was Ludwig who placed that curiosity for his great grandmother in him.

 “Mhm?” Was all Ludwig managed to response.

 “She was um…the one who really defeated Khaos, as well as being the Ace of Hearts, which means, my whole family is a line of demi-gods, and I um…I am too, and-and in a way, do-don’t you think it-it’s kind of cool?” He tried to smile and chuckle, but it earned him a glare.

 “It’s not,” Ludwig quickly admitted, turning and Feliciano just slumped once again in defeat, with a new heart ache that weigh harshly on him to the point that he swore his bones were hurting.

 Give up, he told himself, just give up and don’t you dare cry now of all moments, just hold tighter to your cloak and try to forget about any words, nothing is going to work.

 Silence continued yet again and neither tried a thing against it.

 Trees continued to diminish, whiteness rising, growing and growing, and for a moment Feliciano thought they were entering a mist, until he was released from the ceiling of trees and upwards was the grey sky and forward a large, large, large radius of only white snow seeming to extend infinitely. It was odd, how trees continued behind them in a semi-circle and forward it was like everything had been wiped in a clean swoosh. As Feliciano focused his eyes the better, between a surely blowing blizzard deep into its center, there were mountains, tall snow covered top ones that hid in-between where surely…Khaos lied.

 “Is this…the field?” Feliciano asked.

 Ludwig offered to extend his hand, taking testing steps forward until his palm came across an invisible wall, a push that made it slightly ripple in distinct colors before settling back in transparency.

 “It is.” Ludwig gazed upward, having read that the field rose up into a center like a very orb, of course reaching a good portion of the sky and surely even underneath the ground.

 It was odd and intimidating, and with the silence, the cold, the extending white and the loneliness, there was a cringe that made them feel small, defenseless and vulnerable.

 “Let’s find the pedestal,” Ludwig commanded, beginning to walk its encirclement, both keeping their eyes out for anything that stood out from the snow.

 For minutes on it was only the whiteness, the piling snow, the trees still standing with a dark mocking behind them, the cold seeming to intensify and actually making Feliciano use a warming spell because tightening his cloak just didn’t seem to give the same results as earlier. As he stopped to do this, in the corner of his eyes he caught a similar glow, an item picking up from his arising magic.

 “Ludwig…” he called, spotting something of stone between the snow.

 While he reached back, Feliciano kneeled and began moving the ice away, revealing slowly the pedestal they were looking for, sure when on it were presented ancient symbols of all the kingdoms. Ludwig helped to remove whatever snow was left until it was completely out in the air.

 It was a stone rather simple, with no other inscriptions or form, nothing else to give them a clue.

 “How does it open?” Feliciano wondered as he looked around it, gazing up to Ludwig expecting him to have already found it, but Ludwig wasn’t even looking at the pedestal, his gaze was strictly set forward on the distance, on  the inners of the field, in his own concentration, without having heard Feliciano.

 “Ludwig!” He called again, earning his perk and interest, gaze back on the pedestal in continuing question. What was it that his grandfather said? He kept going through the things he told him until he reached a particular memory.

 “Spread your hands over all of them, it should accept any of our magic.”

 And so Feliciano nodded and accepted, carefully letting his hand create that very trace, sure over all of them, with each passing letting a symbol light in its kingdom color. Once all glowed, a mist began to blow from underneath it, a short tremble as rocks and gears shifted, a sound prominent that let them hear easily its age and the space it needed for its arise. Ludwig had to grasp Feliciano’s arm to move him away as it began its growth, upward like a cabinet, a largeness like a bookcase in a library, extending far to let each of the old orbs give its alight in its own special case. They each floated on their own, two peeks receiving their energy and thus connecting it to the field. Each kingdom also held their own section, in impressive pillars of beauty that let Ludwig and Feliciano wondered for a moment, scared to reach it, scared to even touch it as they should. Even Ludwig had a slight shake as he went for his bag, searching around to find the staff, freeing it of its fabric and handing it over to Feliciano, who stared down to it in question.

 “Start with the ones from the Diamond Kingdom,” Ludwig obliged.

 “Shouldn’t we be placing them together?” Feliciano wondered.

 “It doesn’t matter.” There was a hurrying in his tone, a push that forced Feliciano to come closer to the case, looking about it, wondering how he was even supposed to take the old ones out, how was he to place them, even how he was supposed to remove the new ones from the staff. Ludwig had told him enough times the spell, even where to place his holding, but the nervousness of the situation made him forget it all, frozen in place under this pedestal’s tall ruling and shadow over them. A gaze to the distances worked enough of a push, a reminder of what they had to quickly control before it was too late. The sooner they did this, the better, that was the thought that had Feliciano take his holding, saying the spell and having all orbs release, momentarily floating before they all fell to the snow in waiting. He guessed he would have to take the old ones in the same staff to Rome…but how could he take them out from the pedestal?

 Placing the staff on the floor along with the newer orbs, he tip toed to the orb that belonged to the past Diamond Jack, slowly placing his hands around it. After he wasn’t electrocuted or surged with some hurtful magic, he began pulling it away, a hard feat as there was an invisible force that was still taking a harsh pull of it. Feliciano had to really grasp it and use a lot of power to remove it, finishing shown with the way the entire field alighted in a sudden dimmed yellow before it turned back to nothing.

 Feliciano froze, embracing the old orb as a sort of protection for if something unexpected happened, but after nothing occurred in the continuing seconds, he took a deep breath, settling the old one on the floor, then taking Vash’s, which he noticed now was heavier, glowing more intensely and with brighter colors than the one he just removed. Of course, the old one had been powering this field the last fifty years, it had weakened, all its juice was removed and needed these new ones.

 Slowly he came forward, offering by extending, and the force inside it, upon recognizing its closeness, instantly swallowed it, granting the two peeks a new yellow color, the field accepting by letting a yellow line go all around it, as if spreading its power all throughout. It was the same procedure he had to do for the rest, finishing the ones from the Diamond Kingdom, then the Spade Kingdom and Club Kingdom until only the Heart Kingdom was left to complete. It was at this point that he returned his gaze to Ludwig, wanting to take a break to breathe.

 Honestly this was tiring and stressing, even if he was merely placing orbs. He noticed then how far Ludwig had moved away from the pedestal, his eyes still on the depths of the field, having removed his black cloak and placed his bag on the floor.

 “Ludwig…only ours are missing,” Feliciano made him know, yet he still refused to turn. “Ludwig?” And he still stood as poised, like he was forcing himself to be alone, a sudden determination in his eyes that made Feliciano worry. “Lud-”

 “Just put them,” he interrupted.

 “I’ve already placed most of them, I really think you should have a turn as well, it’s kind of unfair for only me to put them,” he tried to convince, turning completely to him hoping to be properly headed.

 “Feliciano…please…just finish it…” a nervous tone, a sudden shake as he leaned to pick an item from the bag. Out came out the sheath of his sword, Ludwig inspecting, turning and placing it in the ready hold of his waist… as he was to face something.

 “Ludwig…?” Feliciano began to question, leaning slightly closer.

 With a breathe, a decide, he placed his hand on the grip and began to unsheathe it, the silver gleam of the blade shinning like the missing sun, exposed to reveal its piercing length, more a beauty than Feliciano had thought.

 “Ludwig…what are you doing?” Feliciano trembled, scared.

 “Feliciano, just please, finish placing all the orbs,”

 “But…but…”

 Ludwig took a swing and began a harsh piercing of the field wall, a crash like smashing against glass, shards even flying out as Ludwig imposed more of his sword throughout.

 “Ludwig! What are you doing?!” Feliciano panicked, taking immediate speed towards him.

 Ludwig, while keeping his grip continuing his crashing, gazed back to Feliciano with a new kind of fear tainting his eyes, mixing along with a feat, an ongoing perseverance that no words Feliciano could give would stop him. “Just keep placing them, ” he commanded harshly. “I’ll probably be inside by when you put yours. When that happens, I don’t think it will be possible for me to head out. Return to Berlin, tell everyone I’m dead,” he determined as he threw another harsher swing, leaving Feliciano to worsen his state, suddenly shaken and with watered eyes.

 “Wha-what, what are you talking about?” He began to whimper, hoping to find some way to stop his swings, to pull his piercing out, but Ludwig always moved quickly on time, his force one that Feliciano couldn’t hold into a stop no matter how he moved. “Ludwig! What are you trying to do?! Ludwig!” Ignored, he continued, more shards, more of the field slowly alighting into his shots. “Ludwig! Don’t! Don’t! Don’t!” Feliciano shouted, trying to pull his hand away. “Don’t! Don’t! Please, stop! Stop! Just leave it be! Let’s just place the orbs and head back!” Feliciano begged, trying to strengthen his grip, but Ludwig would just push him at any earned grip.

 “Feliciano, just let me do this!” He continued on, vengeance in his eyes that made his piercing stronger.

 “I can’t let you! You possibly can’t!” He whimpered.

 “There’s something I have to do!”

 “Then what is it?”

 “I can’t let you know!”

 “Please tell me!”

 “No.” Another harshened swing, the first holes created that he could use to better create his entrance.

 “Is this about what was in the letter?” Feliciano suddenly mentioned, in a loud shout that was just enough to grant a stop to Ludwig, his swing half way while gazing to Feliciano with widened eyes of surprise.

 “How do you know about it?” He tried hard not to be swayed by the tears that spilled from Feliciano’s eyes.

 “Ivan told me about it when he took me to a cave with all of Augusta’s relics, he told me they didn’t know what was in it, that it was meant for you and that it was written by Romulus,” he admitted, hoping it be enough of a bridge, of an understanding for him to tell, to even stop him, but yet he still continued pointing his sword, ready any time to go at it again.

 “Ludwig…” a begging that Ludwig let himself turn to, a pang for every tear that fell down his cheek, ones that part of him desperately wanted to move away with a sway of his thumb. “Please…tell me…tell me now…what was in that letter? Why are you doing this? What is it that you have to face?” There was a gentle look in Ludwig’s expression, a scared childish one that held a lot of memory, a lot of past. There was care, but there was also fear, there was a lot of questioning, a lot of deciding, a lot of feelings that held him back, that made him sure long ago that he shouldn’t, that he should just continue. With his sword still in the shine of day, he pushed Feliciano aside to where the orbs lay. Quick, he took out the past Jack’s, placing Kiku’s, the usual acceptance and force he had seen of the field, then going on to take out Aldrich’s and place his own.

 “Ludwig! Stop!” Feliciano ran, knowing that there were ulterior motives than just placing, there was a plan formulated and it was just as Feliciano had it, it was just as he couldn’t take it, an angering force that gave him just enough strength. When Ludwig’s was placed, only the Queen’s left to remove and place Feliciano’s, Feliciano instead, while Ludwig was distracted, pushed him. In a quick movement, he grabbed his own sword, tripped him with a quick swish of his feet, and before he recognized enough to stand, Feliciano landed harshly on him, taking a sitting on his stomach and stabbing the sword only inches away from his face. Ludwig was struck into place, in one part surprised over what Feliciano just did, another for the grip his arising Queen had on his weapon, menacingly close with an angry expression that burned like fire, his heavy breathing dangerous, ready to poison.

 “I’ve had it!” He practically growled, Pookie sitting by a distance watching with his own fear tainted expression. “I’ve had enough of your hiding and silence, I’ve had enough of waiting, I’ve had enough of suffering because of this, because of you!” He shouted, a menacing anger that showcased indeed how much he had stopped being patient, yet tears continued to flow, these ones now falling and staining Ludwig’s white suit.

 “You’re telling me…You’re telling me right now!” He screamed with much more cut, the grip on the sword harder, pushing it deeper into the ground. “I won’t let you go until you tell me, and I swear, if you keep up with excuses, I will…I will…” Feliciano knew he couldn’t impose such violence, and so he only tremble, tears continuing to fall and stain, hurting him now, hating himself for how it weakened him. All of a sudden he wished he could hide this misery, yet he stayed in his position thinking, thinking truly that this time…this time…

 He suddenly felt fingers on his cheek, soft, with caress, with real intent and managing to brush some tears aside, until that very grasp held and rubbed so kindly on the back of his head and Feliciano couldn’t help but lean towards it, although his still prominent question, hold of the sword and insisting.

 “It’s…many things,” Ludwig for once admitted.

 “I don’t care, tell me…tell me everything!” Feliciano still commanded, some remains of his anger still strong, forcing Ludwig more into the telling.

 The prince had given up then, letting his head fall to the snow in comfort, preparing, taking deep breathes, eyes on the back of his head as he adjusted what he would say first, how he could even finish. He made a testing gaze to the field, wondering if there was still a chance of escape, but the hold Feliciano had of him, begging, destroyed, shaking, willing to do just anything for real answers this time, and honestly he was afraid as to how Feliciano could react, what he could do, especially in this state that was best he didn’t try, that he released and finally told.

 “Other than Romulus’s letter, King Yura, Queen Adrian and Jack Anikó had written inside an explanation about what had really happened. They specified not to tell you since at some point you will be shown the relics and the current Clubian royals will explain it to you, so I obediently remained shut, but I let myself learn about Augusta, Pisa and Keron, about Romulus’s reality, the hand of creation, the prophecies, the lineage, the star alignment…how you’re going to face Khaos and then take your place as the new Ace of Hearts.” His tone saddened, in his head reminding images of pain and hurt, of losing. “It was afterwards that I read the letter…” he took a sigh, a grip on his hands that lay on the snow beneath, a clear gulp, a misery in his eyes that Feliciano saw, loosening slightly his hold in worry.

 “You know about…how Augusta hoped that Romulus was alive, that somehow his spirit and soul had been captured by Khaos…” Feliciano nodded, remembering, knowing it was one of the reasons why Augusta couldn’t celebrate Khaos’s defeat, spending her last years in their world in misery and even creating a more imperial side to Romulus’s story just to get people to remember him and perhaps return him.

 “…She was right, he did… survive, in a way,” Ludwig admitted, an instant faltering to Feliciano’s movement that gave the blond more ease from the heavy weight he imposed.

 “What?” How could it be possible?

 “The letter was written many years after his death…”

 “…huh?” Feliciano couldn’t think it easy.

 “And although he was the one who sent the message…it wasn’t his hand who wrote it, but my own ancestor’s, Soren.”

 Feliciano trembled with confusion, seen in the way the sword shook. “Ludwig, please, don’t lie to me, tell me the truth, tell me what was actually-”

 “I am.” No fault, no eyes or avoiding direction, these were all the words of the actuality, all for Feliciano to hear.  

 When silence was settled once again, Ludwig continued. “As Augusta suspected, Khaos did take Romulus’s soul, spirit, energy and magic, only destroying completely the body that held it.”

 “Then why wasn’t it released?” Feliciano commanded.

 “Khaos did release it, just not immediately and how Augusta expected, there were some things he wanted to do.” There was dread in his voice, a gulp. “After his original betrayal from Augusta, he learned to really plan his actions and be prepared for any outcome, and so, he knew what to do in the possibility that he failed in the war…if he didn’t defeat Augusta in Rome as he wished.” Another wave of fault, a shake, his breath even faltering.

 “Khaos knows of the next alignment, he knows Augusta sought to create something more powerful to really defeat him, but because of the hiding of the relics and her story being ceased, he didn’t manage to know of her own combine to the hand of creation, of her own send through the lineage of your family, but he determined to find out, which is why he constantly sends out Khaos’s men to search, but if he didn’t or doesn’t…he’s already got something to use against her for the next war…” Ludwig feared to say the next, eyes avoiding.

 “With all the years of the war…with all the years he held Romulus’s essence…he tainted it, he brought it to darkness, under his power and commanding to do as he wished. It was like this that he decided to release it…” Once again he was hesitant, he was scared and it was only bringing Feliciano more anxiousness. “Khaos actually thought something very similar to Augusta, and that was sending it through a lineage to get more energy, more power. He thought of sending it through Augusta’s very own, but he somehow figured she would be doing something similar, so instead…as a competition, as to put her to fight one of her two most dear people together …he decided to send it through Soren’s lineage in one of the battles.” He told, then stopping with a quivering breath as he tried to relax, as Feliciano continued with shock, so much as to even stop his tears.

 “I don’t…I don’t understand…how could he do this? How-how could he? Soren was not blood related to Romulus.”

 “No…but Khaos suspected that as a reward for his friendship to both of them, a new kingship would continue in his line, thus he knew Soren’s relatives would be granted at some point Ace power to be king, queen or even jack, which could add to Romulus’s own power in its passing through, but there was something that went wrong though.” Ludwig was wary about it, but he believed deeply in the chance. “Romulus’s power was sent through the Beilschmidts only through energy, unlike Augusta’s that was passed through not only energy and magic, but also through soul, blood and body, thus each had their chance in adding to the power something personal, each keeping their own singularity, as well as holding blood and even magic by Romulus himself. Because Romulus was not connected to my own lineage as successfully as perhaps Khaos would have wanted, it meant that the power wasn’t mended well with the people it passed through, wasn’t made prominent and even I don’t know how to use his power …but it meant that he could take an ounce of control at the beginning, to communicate…use some last energy of himself that Khaos hadn’t affected yet to write a message through Soren… a warning to me, the one the power would act upon by the next alignment.”

 Feliciano panicked at what it could mean, making Ludwig lose his wording with every harshened breath, just wanting to quickly say it to not let it continue jarring his heart as it was. “Like you, like Khaos, Romulus warned that I would receive my own surge through the alignment…with his power that is within me now, mended and ruined to join Khaos…into a form of my own that I don’t know how bad it could turn into…of what could happen to me… and go against Augusta…against you…”

 Dreaded silence, dreaded breaths, Feliciano still in his shake.

 “He wrote to me of how I could stop it, everything I could do to weaken it. He actually sent the letter before my eighteenth birthday because he wanted me to get an early power activation to start releasing out. Lucky for me, I did when I was only seven years old, which meant more had escaped…but it wouldn’t be enough.” He had to take a breath, had to settle his words and speech. “He told me to avoid uniting my magic with you, for it would only make it stronger, he warned me to not get too close to you, to avoid any kind of feelings that would drive us more into friendship…or to even fall in love…it would only intensify it.” Another gulp, full of loss, full of a determination he couldn’t fulfill. “He told me to only do the necessary the kingdom would ask…show myself as a respectful and powerful coming king, get married, provide an heir that hopefully his essence wouldn’t pass through to…and when the time reached for when I had to head to the field to place the new validity spheres…he told me to escape and break into the field, saying that the kingdom sword would be enough for me to create an opening,”

 “Why…Why would he suggest that?” Tears once again spread and fell, strong pain going through all his movements as the news pierced and damaged.

 “So I could face Khaos,” he plain simply said, which only worsened Feliciano’s movements of fear.

 “Yo-you ca-can’t! You can’t! He-he’ll be too powerful! He’ll easily-he’ll easily-”

 “Kill me? That’s the point.”

 How could Ludwig say it so nonchalantly like that?

 “No-no-no, why-why, don’t…don’t!” He let himself to the whimpers and sobs.

 “To stop myself from being his pawn in the next war. If I face him, I could perhaps weaken him using his own power against him. If it doesn’t work…at least he’s the only one that can rid of me before I hurt and destroy my own world… and the odds would be more at your favor.”

 Feliciano only trembled, his vision now completely blinded by his tears, letting the sword drop in a clang, his hands coming to his face to stop himself from looking like such a mess, but he couldn’t control, he couldn’t stop.

 “It-It doesn’t have to be like this! There has to be…there has to be another way!” He sobbed, weakened to the point that he let himself fall upon Ludwig’s chest, letting those very tears stain his suit, confident to wrap his arms around him, keeping him, caging him, not letting him drive himself away like that, anything to keep him here still, in getting from his alleviating warmth despite the storm inside him. Ludwig let himself wrap his arms around him, holding him close, a hand caressing at his hair as he let him indulge in all the tears landing on his chest.

 “There are no writings or explanations about this, all I can do is simply…what Romulus suggested…”

 Another silence, of winds blowing, of cold growing and even snow piling over them.

 “Why would you do this…why would do this?” Feliciano whispered in insistence.

 “To protect you from losing me… from having to fight against me, to not let you depress as Augusta had done when she lost Romulus… so you could be stronger for when you faced Khaos and save our world…and take your place as Ace without having to worry about me,” he admitted in a loving whisper that both made Feliciano elate but also fail into more tears.

 “You failed…” Feliciano punctuated in a whimper against his chest, “you failed…because despite everything… I kept remembering our promises…I kept dreaming of a beautiful chance with you…and in this trip you showed me a new side that I could learn to adore as I had once done…and so I never gave up, I didn’t give up no matter how hard you pushed, your actions, your words, your ignorance…because there was always a part of me strong that knew…that knew there was still something more that you were just hiding, a part that wanted to be with me and show all the compassion and loyalty and new emotions to our adulthood that I knew were there… and I can’t…I can’t lose you… not without giving you and me that chance… I won’t bare your act for me, I won’t be able to live through it…It’ll just make me weaker, there won’t be a day I won’t cry about this, so please…please…don’t do this…don’t do this…”

 Ludwig gazed up to the sky, as if hoping it could remove the tears that welled in his own eyes, to erase them, to erase these feelings, to stop himself from holding him so dearly as he was.

 “We’ll find a way…we’ll find a way… there has to be…” Feliciano really want him to hope, to escape…but it wasn’t that easy to dispatch himself from… after all he did to try and fulfill this.

 Ludwig sigh in disappointment, in welcome to his failure of not being able to drive him away from the feelings that now he realized…were bound to happen…and as he smiled and tucked his arms more closely around him, he lay defeated, enjoying from that last hold…that last warmth…settling his eyes back on the missing orb and awaiting panel…before he pushed Feliciano back on the floor, using the sword to stab his cloak on the ground and cage him there.

 It was all too quick and sudden. By the time Ludwig had rushed to pick Feliciano’s orb, the arising Queen was still dumbfounded, lost still in his emotions, paralyzed, more so when the tight hold of the sword didn’t let him run on time.

 “Ludwig, no! No! No! No! Please no!” He shouted, but it didn’t stop Ludwig from removing his own grandmother’s orb, selfishly throwing it to the ground, in an instant letting the panel accept Feliciano’s…the most powerful, taking Ace magic for the first time in centuries…Ludwig had to be quick.

 “Ludwig! Ludwig!” Feliciano continued to shout as Ludwig ran by him, picking up his sword, granting Feliciano freedom, but by the time he was standing and trying to reach him, Ludwig gave that final blow that shattered completely, giving him a small opening to enter to a more piercing cold. Before Feliciano could join him, his very validity sphere did the last of the spreading, of the fortifying, the light scanning through in front of them, enough of a potent to have Feliciano pushed off, Ludwig having to pierce the sword to the ground and holding to it tightly so he wouldn’t fall off as the new spheres took their reigning, as they began their full energizing, the field stronger, regenerating the broken back to strength and transparency, not a space for Feliciano to enter, laying at the other side in separation.

 “Ludwig! Ludwig!” He cried, stumbling as he stood, taking leverage against the field, hands scratching as if trying to reach him inside, but now the field was more impenetrable and not a mark was left, no ripple. No smash of his fist was enough, only his cries and his shouts could be heard, all clear for Ludwig, who began his straighten, taking continuation of his breathing, his glance in direction to the mountains in the distance. He sheathed back his sword, he tried to order himself as bravely as he could, spreading back any strand of hair that had fallen ad removing snow that rested on him. He was ready to go on forward…but not before turning to Feliciano, coming near, his head seeming to lay upon his, hands coming together to lay on each other despite the wall of transparency separating them, away from Feliciano’s warmth, his soft skin, even the wetness of his tears.

 “Since I failed and I’m going to die, I might as well tell you this, I love you.” It was enough of a startle to bring Feliciano to a stunning, frozen and perplexed. “I never stopped…it just changed from that of friendship to something else. I think I’ve desired you from the moment we met again at the table…it made this so hard…so hard to hurt you, to be so cruel to you, to have to push you away when my heart craved for you like nothing I had ever felt…but I knew it had to be this way…I knew it was the only way to save you.” He gripped his hands upon the field, dreading that he couldn’t have his touch, his embrace once again, in his truth, in his admitting.

 “Lu-Ludwig, no-no, there could have been a way! Yo-you could have told me earlier! We could have managed, we could have searched together for something to help us both with this, you didn’t have to do this! You could have left us be together.” Feliciano gripped as well, wishing he could bury his head to feel more of him.

 “Why would you suffer for me like this? I treated you like I did to drive you away no matter how much I wanted you, right now you shouldn’t have cared, right now you should have moved away back to Berlin…happy…”

 “I can’t believe you would expect me to be that evil, that unforgiving, I possibly cannot live happy like this,” He continued to whimper.

 “You can…Feliciano, you have an amazing opportunity before you…you’re going to be a god, an Ace…you don’t deserve me, you don’t deserve a mere king with hidden tainted magic…you deserve far greater than I can give you…” he whispered with loss, accepting to his nothingness compared to the one he loved.

 “It all means nothing if I can’t have you, if it drives me away from you. I don’t want this…I don’t want any of this, I just want you by my side, I just want to live my life with you.” He shed more, his loosing breaths making him choke many times, harsher in his push as if trying to pull Ludwig back.

 “Please, just get over me, I’m not worth all these tears, just smile, give me the chance to see that smile one last time,” he still desired.

 “How could you possibly ask that from me? How could you possibly ask when you’re making me this miserable?” So much he tried to lay against the field that even tears began to fall from its clearness.

 For minutes on Feliciano tried to hang on and Ludwig let himself believe that there was something still willing to save him as he remained in that invisible hold, seeming to rest, wanting to imagine he would be in his safe cradle.

 “Ludwig… I love you, please, please…don’t…don’t.” He poured every beg, every sincerity in the shine of his eyes, every force in his body that could get Ludwig to convince…but it just made him more decided on what he was trying to save and what he was doing to guarantee him a peaceful world he could live in and reign.

 “For you, mein Leben,” he whispered tenderly, reaching his hand to caress the wall as if it could take his face, as if it could lean his chin to his lips and oh so badly did Feliciano wish that leaning, letting them exchange cold breaths that really did not connect, a distraction of bliss…before Ludwig decided, turning away and starting on his march.

 “Ludwig…Ludwig! Ludwig!” Feliciano shouted, screamed, punched and kicked on the wall to try and get him to return, but he couldn’t continue forward as Ludwig did, smaller and smaller as he went on to face an incredible danger.

 “Ludwig! Ludwig!” He still hoped, he still continued, he tried harder in his forces against the wall, but it only began to bruise and redden his skin, and even with the pulsing he went on, letting his voice hoarse, letting himself weaken, watching as Ludwig continued onward, turning into but a haze that began to mix well with the blizzard he was now reaching, lost and gone.

 “Ludwig…Ludwig…Ludwig…” Feliciano’s voice had died down, his throat now hurting him, his punches and kicks surely nothing, not a message, not a call, he was now completely alone, his friend, his love, gone, in there and there was nothing he could do but fall to his knees and sob whatever was left of his energy over the field.

 “Please come back…please come back…” he whimpered, he shivered, he trembled, his arms around himself, not wanting this cloak’s warmth, but that last one Ludwig had given him, for once with true loving, what he wanted, what he craved…only but the chance of a couple of minutes that now was only ghosted. That was the only full paradise he could have with Ludwig…now gone with no other in the future, away as a sacrifice for himself that he did not accept, that he could not take, that he wished more could have been done without settling in this, without this drastic decision that now would officially leave him kingless, loveless, unhappy, darkening and lost…so lost. As a mess he slumped to the ground, defeated and vulnerable, glued to the new melancholy that settled well completely throughout in a matter of minutes.

 “Please…please…” he still had in him enough to say in the silent white, in the nothingness of only himself, as he was completely drained of even tears now.

 “I won’t let you lose him like I did…” came a sudden voice, an echo that Feliciano couldn’t point, suddenly startled, wondering what it could have possibly been when he was the only one for miles.

 “Huh?”

 Suddenly he was accepting, suddenly there was an approval, a dedication, taking control and powering the movement of his hands. While he lay weakened upon the wall, his arm raised until it gripped harshly on the glass-like force, starting the beginning of a crack and a powerful red glow in between.

[sky-girls]

If I wake up with you, there's nothing else I can ask for