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inkedmoth · 13 days ago

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A Sweet Surprise

An On Swift Wings one-shot set post-war, a nice little palate cleanser for you to enjoy ❤️

“So where, exactly, are you taking me?”

Rhosynel’s curiosity earnt her an amused glance from Boromir, her arm looped through his as the pair strolled through the streets of Minas Tirith. With spring starting to come to a close, the weather was warming up and the citizens of the city were making the most of it. Stalls were popping up, markets were beginning to bustle, and the scars of war were beginning to fade.

True, there was still reconstruction to be done, but the city was healing.

“I did say it was a surprise,” Boromir replied, glancing to her with a fond expression, “are you really that impatient? Do you have somewhere to be?”

“You know full well I don’t, considering you booked today in my schedule.”

He’d claimed this day over a month ago, the schedule of meetings and plans for the improved Messengers Service had been taking up hours and days and weeks of Rhosynel’s time. There were outposts that needed construction, stables that needed to be financed, and more Messengers that needed to be trained, not to mention the roads needed to be repaired or improved. Or built.

As such, when she wasn’t drowning in paperwork, she’d been run ragged, constantly hustling back and forth, be it in Gondor, Arnor, Harondor, or even north to the Vales of Anduin. True it was exciting and thrilling, not to mention her new and improved rank of Kings Messenger gave Rhosynel even more freedom and autonomy, but by Béma’s Bow she was exhausted.

“You’ll enjoy it, I promise,” Boromir attempted to reassure, “I did say I’d treat you.”

Somehow, Rhosynel didn’t doubt that.

Pausing, the pair let a cart stacked high with barrels being hauled by a donkey cross their paths, the owner of said cart nodding to Boromir as the wheels bumped and rattled on by. Even out of uniform, even not wearing any crests or motifs, Boromir was more than recognisable and respected.

It was a relief that her face wasn’t yet remarkable.

“Not far now,” he added, as they resumed walking.

“Good, I’m getting hungry and we’re missing lunch for this.”

It wasn’t a complaint, not really, Rhosynel was far too accustomed to going for days without food, an hour or two wouldn’t make a difference. Especially considering how pleasant the day was, their stroll leisurely and unhurried, cheerful chatter and friendly greetings filled the market of the fourth level, it was warm and comforting to see just how the city was recovering.

“Ah, here we go.”

At Boromir’s words, Rhosynel’s attention pulled away from the stalls of jewellery, leather work, books, flowers, and trinkets, to find that Boromir was heading towards a specific building at one side of the market.

A bright blue awning had been erected over the front door and window of the shop, adding more outside space to display their wares. The wooden table was covered with a white tablecloth, and atop it, arranged beautifully, were all manner of treats both sweet and savoury.

Breads by the dozens were piled high, brown, white, seedy, flat, long, square, fluffy, dense, raisins, fruit, and more all competed for Rhosynel’s attention. Cake upon cake was arranged in vibrant colours, one layer, two, three, even possibly four layers tall, with thick cream spread between then topped with even more, drizzled with icing and decorated with sugared fruits from across Arda. And then there were the pastries, with golden flaky surfaces, everything from herbed duck to slow cooked pork, or sweeter options like cream and sugar dusted parcels of layered pastry with fruit fillings.

Rhosynel’s mouth immediately started watering.

“Lord Boromir!” the stall keeper was greeting in clear familiarity, her face brightening into a genuine smile as the pair approached, “welcome back.”

“Good afternoon, Miss Tawardil,” he greeted warmly, “business is going well today I take it?”

His gesture to the stall drew Rhosynel’s attention back down to the delightful display of delicate desserts, but also the notable gaps where products had sold. True they were few and far between, but the fact there were gaps at all was impressive, considering the bakery was still active and churning out yet more food.

“Indeed, but I set aside a couple of your favourites to keep warm,” Tawardil replied.

Favourites? Just how often did Boromir visit this bakery?

The woman was already bustling into the building, her flour dusted apron whisking out of sight, and Rhosynel turned an amused look to him.

“What?” Boromir asked, grinning back at her. “The stuffed pastries they sell here are delicious, I always stop by when I’m passing through.”

“Well since you’re so familiar, what would you recommend?” she asked, her own smile broadening.

“If you fancy something savoury, then the duck and orange pastry, or if you’d rather a sweet treat, then the lemon curd is my favourite.”

The swiftness with which he answered drew a laugh from Rhosynel, shaking her head in disbelief. But squeezing affectionately with her arm threaded through his, she turned her gaze back to the staggering arrangement of baked goods on display.

It would be hard to choose, but Rhosynel had an inkling of what she’d get.

“Here you go my Lord,” Tawardil reappeared with a paper wrapped parcel.

“Ah thank you indeed!”

The baker’s attention was already turning to Rhosynel with a broad smile. “You’re in luck, Rhosynel, I have a few of the cocoa and cinnamon swirls left, but you should have let me know you were coming, I’d have kept them warm for you!”

Rhosynel could have sworn she heard the click of Boromir’s neck, as his head snapped about to stare at her.

“I didn’t know I was coming, it was a surprise,” she replied, still smiling even as a flush began to creep up her neck at the intensity of Boromir’s gaze. “But yes, a cinnamon swirl would be lovely, thank you.”

A second wrapped parcel joined the first, and a handful of silver gratefully given.

It was almost impressive how Boromir managed to remain quiet until after they left the stall and the marvellous display of goods. The wrapped pastries in his hands, and her arm threaded through his as they ambled away.

At which point he spoke up.

“You absolute little—”

“I didn’t know that it was Tawar’s you were taking me to!” Rhosynel protested quickly before he could get much further. “It was a surprise!”

There was a grumble from the Lord on her arm, and she promptly steered him towards one side of the market, a low wall was in the sun and somewhat quieter than the hustle and bustle of the crowds milling about. A good place to settle and people watch.

“It was a good surprise though,” she continued, “I haven’t visited the bakery for at least a month, I was getting cravings for another cinnamon swirl.”

There was another grumble.

Hopping up onto the wall, Rhosynel reached out, catching Boromir’s arms and drawing him towards her. With her perch, she was for once slightly taller, and it made a nice change for him to be the one peering up at her as Boromir settled between her knees.

There was a scowl on his face, but she could see the twitch of his lips trying to hold back a smirk.

“Really though,” Rhosynel pressed on, “I didn’t know you were a patron of Tawar’s?”

“We’ve not exactly spent much time wondering the city together,” he pointed out.

“Then we’ll have to change that, make a date out of it. There’s a particular tavern in the lower level that sells the best ale.”

“If it’s the Twisted Latch then I’m already familiar, I’ve had to drag my men out of there on more than on occasion,” he retorted, and neatly scuppered Rhosynel’s plan. “Or is that the sort of place you make a habit of visiting?”

“Only when I’m getting the soldiers drunk to annoy you.”

The startled bark of laughter from Boromir was enough to banish the rest of his faux glower, and he shook his head ruefully. “Fine, fine. Eat your pastry and let me wallow.”

“No,” Rhosynel said sweetly, and pecked a kiss to his forehead –purely for the novelty of being taller– before plucking her pastry from his hand. “Where else do you frequent then? And don’t say the barracks.”

“The training grounds.”

Rhosynel would have swatted him on the arm if it weren’t for the fact she was halfway through unwrapping her pastry. The tantalizing scent of sweet cocoa cream and the subtle spice of cinnamon was one she’d not smelt in months. Her mouth was watering, and even licking the sugary dust from her fingers was enough to distract her from reprimanding Boromir for his sarcasm. The two key ingredients were imported from Harad, but with the War on, the supply had dwindled, and they’d become worth their weight in gold, it was a relief to have her favourite treat again after so long.

“How about,” he was saying, chewing his own pastry in deep thought, “the gardens on the third level, the roses there are some of the sweetest I’ve ever smelt.”

“Sounds nice, we could take a picnic.”

“Load up on pastries on our way down to them?”

“Maybe in summer when it’s a little warmer?” Rhosynel added.

There was a soft chuckle from Boromir, shaking his head and neatly dusting his deep burgundy doublet with powdered sugar, automatically she was reaching out to brush it free from the fine silk before it could stick.

“You are always cold,” he said with a fond smile, “but yes, if you want, we can wait till summer, although that’s a long way off.”

“A week or two, you mean,” she countered, holding up one hand to cover her mouth as she spoke around a mouthful of cocoa.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Fwuk uff.”

That earnt a snort.

“Alright, in two weeks we’re going for a picnic, so you better not be halfway to Erebor by then,” he said, with a nod, as though it was that easy to settle on a date when they were both free.

“Fine, but if he wants to argue you’re telling Aragorn that I’m ‘indisposed’ that day, since this is your idea.”

“He won’t argue if he knows what’s good for him.”

Rhosynel swatted at his chest in mock horror. “Don’t be rude, that’s the King you speak of!”

All too easily, Boromir caught her offending hand in his, already rising it to his lips to lick up some of the flakes of pastry and cinnamon sugar that had stuck to her fingers.

It was an entirely far too intimate act for such a public place, and as Rhosynel turned scarlet with the heat of a hundred suns. Although, if she were to judge by his sly grin of triumph, she suspected he’d done that entirely because he knew how red and speechless she’d become.

Thankfully Rhosynel was rarely short on words.

“If you get to steal some of my pastry, it’s only fair I get some of yours,” she objected, face still hot.

There was no hesitation from Boromir, holding it up to her lips in clear offer. Fully expecting him to snatch it away before she could get a bite, she all but lunged at the offering, taking a far too large a portion of the lemon curd filled pastry. The sweet and sharp preserve was tangy, almost grimacingly so, but the sugared flakes of pastry settled it to just tart. It was nice, she had to admit.

“Whoa hey now!” Boromir exclaimed, having nearly lost a finger in the process. “What happened to some!”

“Wha’ y’gonna do bou’ it?” Rhosynel challenged through a very full mouth.

Boromir lunged.

A shriek left her mouth –slightly muffled– as Rhosynel lurched back, his teeth snapping shut on her own cinnamon swirl. She’d have toppled backwards off the wall, if it wasn’t for the fact Boromir had moved quicker and gotten his free arm about her back. So instead of toppling, she yelled, flailed, hooked her legs about his waist in a panic, and generally made a scene, drawing a few chuckles or confused glances from those passing by.

“I’ll do that.” The Warden of the White Tower looked like a smug teenager, grinning with a mouthful of pastry, and his arm securely anchored about her back.

Swallowing the lump of lemon and pastry, Rhosynel mock lunged for his again, and the grip about her waist tightened to pull her flush against his chest. Now pinned against him, Boromir simply held his arm up, so she couldn’t reach. It was true that the wall she’d perched on gave her a height advantage, but Boromir’s arms were outlandishly long, and the sweet dessert was now entirely out of reach.

“Cheat!”

“I’m defending what’s mine!”

It was incredibly tempting to bite him in retaliation, but that was a little too much for a public space even by her standards. So instead Rhosynel very maturely crammed as much of her cinnamon swirl into her mouth as physically possible so he couldn’t steal any more of it from under her nose.

“That is horrifying.” He sounded almost proud, watching her aggressively chew.

She grinned at him.

“But, while you’re unable to speak, I must admit to an ulterior motive, with this date,” Boromir continued, and Rhosynel abruptly found herself feeling mildly alarmed as to what this was entailing. “I’ve been thinking about my apartments, and while it suits me quite well, its starting to feel a little… cramped now that you’re leaving your own work scattered all over the place.”

Rhosynel managed to anxiously swallow half her mouthful, unable to decide if she was worried as to what he was going to say, or curious as to what he was leading up to. Had she been too messy? Was he annoyed that her paperwork and belongings had scattered across his once spotless quarters?

But Boromir was inhaling deeply. “So I was thinking of moving to a larger set of rooms, and whether or not… you’d like to move in with me?”

That, was not what she’d expected.

Choking down the last mouthful of cinnamon, Rhosynel tried to marshal her thoughts, but all she managed was a stunned, “what…?”

“I know you’ve got your own apartment,” he hastened to continue, clearly taking her shock for discomfort, “but you spend just as much time up in the Citadel and I figured it would be easier if you had your own study and space within rather than having to traipse back and forth at all hours after your meetings not to mention its closer to the stables so you’d get back quicker after your missive ru—”

Boromir was silenced as Rhosynel kissed him. True it was only fleeting, and she was quick to lean back and watch the expression on his face as she answered. “I’d love to.”

It was his turn to look stunned, going to far as to blink several times as though trying to understand that it was that simple.

“What…?”

“I said yes, dear.”

“I-I know, but, are you sure? You didn’t exactly take time to consider it,” Boromir replied.

“I don’t need to consider it.”

“But surely…”

“Boromir,” Rhosynel sighed, one part exasperation, one part fondness. “You said it yourself, I already spend so much time up at the Citadel, and within your quarters, it makes sense. But Boromir, you should have said that my mess bothered you.”

“It doesn’t.”

The response came so swiftly that Rhosynel knew he was telling the truth.

“Are you sure?” he pressed, despite the fact she’d already confirmed as such. “If you want to take some time to think about it—”

Rhosynel kissed him again, lingering this time. “I’m sure,” she murmured quietly, “I’d love to move in with you.”

There was a shaky exhale against her lips, and Boromir’s free hand rose to cup her jaw, silver and grey eyes searching hers as though looking of any hesitation or doubt.

“Very well then,” he said, voice soft and breath ghosting across her skin. Against her lips, Rhosynel felt the moment Boromir started smiling. “I guess I’ll have to get used to sharing with you.”

“You can start with that pastry.”

“I take it back.”

Rhosynel laughed, kissing him again, the sweet taste of sugar on her tongue. “You love me really.”

“That, I do.”

#On Swift Wings #A Sweet Surprise #Lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction #lotr oneshot #boromir x oc #fotfics #moth fic

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neha24blog · 7 months ago

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Bake Stable Pastry Fillings Market Outlook By Product, Region And Forecast Till 2030: Grand View Research Inc.

San Francisco, 16 May 2024: The Report Bake Stable Pastry Fillings Market Size, Share & Trends Analysis Report By Product (Chocolate, Fruits, Nuts, Others), By Region, And Segment Forecasts, 2023 – 2030 The global bake stable pastry fillings market size is expected to reach USD 2.17 billion by 2030, registering a CAGR of 6.5% during the forecast period, according to a new report by Grand View…

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thefoundationexpertsinc · 1 year ago

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Discover Ottawa's Hidden Gems: The Best Places to Visit in Canada's Capital

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monalibobhate · 3 years ago

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#Bake Stable Pastry Fillings Market #Bake Stable Pastry Fillings industry

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ahh-fxck · 4 years ago

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Here is my gift for @mossymel for @thewitchersecretsanta 2020 gift exchange! I hope you like it!!

Title: Heat and a Healer

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Geralt x Female!Reader

Cross-posted to Ao3

Geralt is injured in a hunt to save your village. You find him in the snow and bring him inside to keep him from dying.

The courtyard is muddy and cold, the air in front of your face misting with every breath. It is crisp with a light dusting of snow that crunches under your feet. Pale fingers of dawn light are creeping over the rooftops as you go about your morning chores. As you round the corner of your barn to break the water on the livestock trough you let out a startled gasp.

The water on one end is already broken and there is a strange brown mare contentedly drinking from it. It takes you a moment to realize that her rider is there as well; He is barely visible at first, huddled in a snow-encrusted cloak at the base of the trough. When he hears your gasp he jerks, as if he hadn’t meant to fall asleep and is slightly startled to find that he had.

The movement draws a thin, reedy noise of pain from him. Milky white hair spills from the cloak, and you see a flash of silver around his neck. With a start, you realize that you’ve seen this horse before. The road to the south has been terrorized by a griffin and no trade has gotten through in months; Everyone’s larders are bare and tempers in town have been growing short. The Witcher riding into town a week before had been a welcome sight.

It’s a relief to see him back again, but your heart plunges as you take in the state of him. You kneel to inspect him, frowning at what you see. His lips are blue with cold and his face is streaked with dried gore of some sort. When he opens his eyes you can see they are a startling shade of gold, like a cat’s. They are hazy with pain and exhaustion.

“Witcher?” You say, beginning to brush the snow off of him. “Oh Melitele, look at the state of you! Can you walk? Quick, let’s get you inside.” You bend to help him as he struggles painfully to his feet. The clothing all down one side of him is stiff under your hand and his armor is ominously tattered.

“My horse,” he croaks through dry lips.

“I’ll see to her once I have you settled,” you promise. “You need heat and a healer first, Witcher. She’ll keep.” He is too weak to do more than nod, allowing you to guide his stumbling steps across the courtyard. You hurry him into the kitchen and ease him down on the floor in front of the roaring fire.

He goes down with a grateful groan, settling in a sodden heap on the well-swept floor. As quickly as you can, you pull the sleeping mat you use for guests out of the crowded storage room. Next, you bring a pile of blankets and set them aside. Then you hurriedly help him remove his wet clothes before the chill can set any worse. As the full extent of his injuries is revealed, you can feel your blood running cold. He is gouged and bruised all over one side, still slowly leaking blood from ugly wounds in his flank. Every movement, every breath, pulls at them and causes his face to flicker with pain.

As soon as he is tucked under the blankets near the fire you race out of the house, battering at the healer’s door until she shuffles out to greet you. Her eyes widen as you breathlessly tell her what happened. In short order, she is dressed and hurrying after you. The crunching of your footsteps on the empty streets is loud in the hush of dawn.

You spend the rest of the morning running at the healer’s beck and call, boiling water and making simple herbal preparations at her instruction. During a lull, you slip out to tend the animals and stable the Witcher’s horse. The mare is stroppy and irritable, but you’ve known your share of horses and you aren’t impressed. Far more impressive is the griffin’s head dangling from the far side of her saddle, where you hadn’t been able to see it before. A rush of relief goes through you; the alderman will be pleased to see that, by the gods.

Before long, the horse is clean and dry, munching on her feed. The same cannot be said for her rider. The sun is well in the sky by the time the healer straightens from her work, and even then he looks gaunt and pale. He lies on the floor sleeping soundly as she cleans up and prepares a basket of supplies for you. She explains each item as she puts it in the basket, then instructs you to let him rest. As she leaves, she squeezes your shoulder silently. You and she both know without speaking that keeping the Witcher alive is the right thing to do.

Not long after that, the alderman comes to call, no doubt notified by the healer. Bodily blocking him from entering your home and seeing the state the Witcher is in, you insist on walking the alderman over to the griffin’s head yourself. He eyes it skeptically, hemming and hawing about whether or not the Witcher has earned the full price.

Your eyes flash with fire. Your alderman is a fool and a scoundrel, else you’d expect him to have some compassion for the man who nearly died to save his bloody town. You tell him that and a fair few other things besides, letting him have the sharp side of your tongue. There are few women he’ll take this treatment from, but as the best baker in town, you happen to be one of them. By the time you threaten to refuse baking his daughter’s wedding cake, the alderman buckles, handing over a far fatter sack of coin than he’d intended to.

Pleased, you hand him the griffin’s head to dispose of and march him off of your property. Then you return to the kitchen with the Witcher’s coin. He wakes when you come through the door, eyes bright with fever and exhaustion. When you toss him the bag of coins he catches it though, and his crooked smile lights his face handsomely.

Over the following days, he slumbers in front of your hearth as he heals. At first, he is too exhausted to do much but wake occasionally to eat and use the privy. Though your larder is as bare as anyone else’s in town, you feed him as if he were your own. With gentle hands you tend to his wounds, cleaning them, spreading salve on them, and finally wrapping them with clean bandages. You can see sometimes in unguarded moments how much he likes your touch. His face relaxes and sometimes you can even see the brief flicker of a smile. He is handsome when he smiles.

You find yourself enjoying the time you spend at his bedside, treasuring the little flashes more than you'd expected to. It turns out under the grime he's gorgeous. Wide golden eyes, a square jaw, a cupid's bow lip, and that's only his face. Each of his long limbs is cabled with heavy muscle, and his skin is almost as milky as his hair. It gives him a very striking appearance, and you frequently find yourself struggling not to stare as you change his bandages.

He becomes more alert as he heals. At first, all he does is silently watch you from the floor, golden eyes following you about the room. You don’t mind, filling the air with friendly talk as your hands work. You tell him stories about your childhood, your family, sharing the little memories held in chipped teacups and lovingly crafted decorations.

In his turn, he tells you little things as well. You learn that his name is Geralt and that he’s trying to get north before the snows close the mountain roads entirely. You also learn that he loves baked apples and that he adores his horse. They’re small things, but they put you at your ease, making him seem less remote and strange.

Though he heals quicker than any man has a right to, it is still days before he can limp around your house on his own power. He moves first from the sleeping mat to the chair near the fire, where he listens to you talk while you work. Although supplies are scarce you ply him with tea and treats from your bakery as you work. It gives you joy to feed him nice things after everything he's been through. The kindness and the treats both seem to confuse him, but he devours the pastries without complaint as he listens to you talk. Before long he is alert enough to mend his tattered clothing and armor as he sits there in the corner, his big hands working skillfully.

On the day that the caravans finally arrive in town, he has made it as far as the yard. He is slowly moving through forms with his massive steel sword, limbering his healing body. A clamor arises all through the town as a horn sounds. By the time the first wagon is through the outer gate, half of the town has surged out to greet them.

At the sound of the ruckus, the Witcher’s head comes up. Yours does as well, and you race to the gate. When you realize that the caravans have arrived at last, you let out a joyous whoop, dancing around your courtyard. You catch Geralt up before you can even think about it, so overcome with excitement that you plant a huge kiss right on his lips.

“The caravans! We’re saved! Oh, we’re going to have such a feast tonight, just you wait!”

It’s only then that you see how wide-eyed he is, looking between your hands fisted in his shirt and your lips. You drop his shirt with a start, worried that you’ve caused him offense, but as you back away he breaks into a slow smile. The corners of his golden eyes crinkle handsomely, and you feel your heart trip over itself.

Cheeks heating, you look over your shoulder and then back at him. He’s still smiling. You smile back, giving him a thoughtful look, then tap him gently on his chest. “You just wait here. I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail! Then you’ll see why they call me the best baker in town!” Without waiting for him to reply, you race off to get ready for the impromptu market already forming in the town square.

You walk back to your house sometime later with your cart and donkey in tow. The cart is practically overflowing with supplies, and your heart is glowing as you pull it up in the courtyard and begin to unload it. All your worries about the winter’s food have been wiped away, and you are in a very merry mood indeed.

The kitchen is rich with the smells of good food and mead that evening, and it’s already groaning under the weight of all the treats you’ve baked for the next day. Geralt sits on a stool at your kitchen table. He munches pastries and chops herbs for you while you cook and sing. You catch him smiling to himself as you overflow with happiness. It’s the nicest meal you’ve been able to make in months, and it’s a joy to share the bounty with the man who’d made it possible.

When dinner is cooked and dessert is cooling, you sit down to dine with him. For once he’s able to eat his fill. Even though he puts away a truly surprising amount of food, there is still enough for leftovers. It’s satisfying to see him warm and contented at last, his belly full and his pale complexion flushed with drink. He’d come into your home so gaunt and pale, but now…

You realize you’re staring a little when he smiles at you over his cup of mead. You break away, flustered. When you look back at him, though, there is a little gleam in your eye. You rise from the table and go to where the honey cakes are cooling on the counter. You retrieve some sugared rose petals from a jar, which you arrange on two of the cakes. Then you dress them with cream and a little rose syrup. It runs and gathers prettily at the bottom of each bowl.

You make eye contact with him as you offer him his little bowl, a smile playing about your lips. He looks at the bowl, then at you, his pupils dilating subtly with interest. A slow smile breaks out across his face and he carefully takes the bowl from you, letting his fingers linger against yours as he does. A little shock of delight goes up your arm, and your eyes twinkle. You sit across from him to savor the sweetness of your dessert. As sweet as the honey cakes and cream are, still sweeter is the way he can’t seem to stop watching you, his gaze lingering on you as he licks delicious crumbs off of his spoon.

When he sets his empty bowl aside and rises from the table to go to bed, it feels as natural as breathing to stand with him. Your own bowl is left empty and forgotten on the table. You step closer to him and he brightens with interest, head cocking to the side. Emboldened by the mead and the desire waking in those lovely amber eyes, you lean up and capture his lips in a kiss. He sighs hungrily as you do, drawing you wordlessly closer.

His broad chest is warm and firm under your hands, and his lips taste of roses and honey. You hum happily as he brings his hands to your hips, drawing you firmly against him. Parting your lips, you wind your arms around his neck as he slips his tongue into your mouth. His breath hitches as you lean up to meet him, your clever tongue twining with his.

The kiss is heady and hot, leaving you wanting more when he draws back for air. He swirls his fingers up the back of your clothing, a playfully sensual gesture, and you smile. Your hands trace down his flanks, feeling the firm muscles flex beneath. His beautiful eyes are alight with desire, watching your every movement, wanting more but not daring to take it.

Then you lean up, inviting him in for another kiss. He gives a little shiver, rumbling a low noise of approval. The kiss is deeper this time, slower and more sensual. You take your time with each other, fingers gently tracing the edges of clothing, plucking at laces without pulling. The only sound is the crackling of the fire in the hearth. Heat pools between your thighs and you sigh, rocking idly against him. You can feel him stir in his trousers where his hips are pressed against you and you rock more firmly, finding yourself suddenly dizzy with desire. He hitches in another breath, then growls oh so softly against your lips. He rolls against you and you can feel his cock hardening, pressing against you. You let out a little moan, fingers pulling at his laces in earnest now.

A flurry of clothing is left in a trail leading to your bedroom door. Geralt walks you back until your bare thighs are pressing against your bed, kissing you hungrily. You wiggle your way up onto the bed, giggling as he snuffles at your neck between kisses to take in your scent. He helps to lift you onto the bed, big hands squeezing your thighs as he settles between them. Making low noises of pleasure he mouthes his way to your breasts. His tongue is velvety-hot, and you give a low little cry as it flicks across your nipple.

He savors your belly and your thighs in the same way, hungry and eager, like he hasn't been with a woman in far too long. When his lips finally brush the soft thatch of hair between your thighs you can’t help but groan, watching him from beneath lowered lashes. He teases at you gently, eyes alight as he takes in every little reaction. When he finally bends to trace the tip of his tongue up your inner lips they are sensitive and slick, causing you to whimper and shiver. You wind your fingers in his hair as he sets to work, savoring the warmth of his tongue.

A look of bliss suffuses his golden eyes as he laps at your dewy cunt, his pale lashes fluttering against his cheeks. You tremble with delight, your soft cries filling the room. When he slips gentle fingers inside of you and flutters them just so, a swell of pleasure breaks over you. You cry out as you buck against him. A low rumble emerges from somewhere deep in his chest, an intent look coming into his eye as he redoubles his efforts. His clever tongue circles and dances, bringing the pleasure to a fever pitch, working you until you are coming harder than you thought possible. He withdraws only when you have fallen back to the bed panting, your thighs trembling with the aftershocks.

You run your fingers through his hair as you quiver, savoring the glow that suffuses you. He hums and smiles, nuzzling you. His eyes flutter half-shut as he lets you stroke his hair and face, enjoying the affection. After a lazy moment, you draw him up onto the bed with you. He goes willingly, pulling you down on top of him with a wolfish smile. From the way he moves you can tell he is still stiff and sore, but the bandages are gone. Though you worry about hurting him, he doesn’t seem to care. His smile broadens as you lower yourself to rest across his hips, your lower lips kissing the base of his cock with wet heat.

That grin wipes all your worries out of your mind, replacing it with a sudden rush of desire. His hands guide your hips to start moving, encouraging you to take your pleasure. You smile wickedly, placing your hands on his broad chest as you start to rub your clit against his throbbing cock. He moans softly, his hands sliding up your flanks as his amber eyes trace the beautiful curves of your body. He begins to tease at your nipples, his eyes sparkling with enjoyment at the sounds he draws from you. His touch on them is surprisingly delicate, sending exquisite little shocks of pleasure down to your cunt.

Before long you are rocking hungrily against him, your composure unraveling by the second. He moans and shivers beneath you, arching. The feeling of his thighs tensing sends a shock of heat through you, hunger for more. With a twist of your hips you rise, using a quick hand to position his cock at your entrance. His eyes fly open as you groan happily, circling your hips on the blunt head just barely pressing into your wet heat. He looks at you with wide eyes, breath hitching as you twist your hips again. You lock eyes with him as you sink slowly down, savoring his guttural moan when he bottoms out inside you.

His gold eyes are hazy with need as you begin to rock on top of him. He matches your tempo carefully, watching you with a now-familiar intent expression coming across his face. Without a word he presses a hand against your abdomen, pushing you until you are leaning back with your hands on his thighs. He shifts his angle and you let out a sharp gasp of pleasure, the change allowing him to hit your spot with every thrust.

You cry out as he grins breathlessly and begins to fuck you in earnest. He is surprisingly vocal as he does so, making up for days of silence with murmurs and growls of pleasure. When he brings his thumb to your clit you can’t help but join him, your shaking cries punctuated by every thrust.

He fucks you with care and precision, one hand on your hip, the other working your clit until you come with a ragged yowl. Your muscles clench tight around him and a sharp groan punches out of him as his hips stutter, losing rhythm. Grabbing your hips, he only lasts for a few more short, sharp thrusts before he is spilling inside of you and crying out, his body arching beneath you. His head tosses, white hair scattering across the pillow as he holds you close against him.

In the thundering silence that follows you collapse against him, laying your head on his shoulder. Both of you go limp, too exhausted at first to crawl under the blankets. You lay there listening to the crackle of the fire in the kitchen, the occasional creaking of your old home, and a soft hissing noise that you can’t place at first. He looks to the window and your eyes follow. You see thick white flurries of snow, and once you see them you realize that the hissing is the sound of them being blown against the windowpane.

The first blizzard of winter has come.

You turn back and eye each other thoughtfully, then smile and settle into the blankets. Until the snows clear, what else is there to do but enjoy one another?

And you do, all winter long.

#the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fanfic #geralt x reader #the witcher fic #thewitchersecretsanta

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avengerscompound · 4 years ago

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Running to a Standstill - 15

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 1610

Rating: E

Warnings: Nothing for this chapter

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers. While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Chapter 15

It was too easy to fall into a sense of comfortable security while you were navigating your relationship with Bucky and Steve. Whether it was false or not, you still had moments where it scared you how many defenses you’d let down when you were with them. Two weeks after the incident at the library and you were heading out to parks again with Geo and Bucky. A month of nothing popping up on your radar and you were relaxed enough not to keep looking around everywhere while you were out. It wasn’t a conscious thing, but if you were asked why you’d relaxed so much you might have said that it was just a hope that the people after you had seen you with the Avengers and figured you were too difficult a target to pin down.

It was hard to say if it was exactly that. The truth was that being that relaxed most of the time made those times you weren’t relaxed worse. When it all bubbled up that it was quite possible that there were people out there that still wanted to get their hands on Geo you’d have a panic attack and on more than one occasion Steve and Bucky had needed to talk you down from doing something really rash or stupid.

You wished that there would be some kind of break in the case so that whoever the hell it was that had been hunting you could be arrested and your son could get a normal fucking life. Or at least a happy and stable one. Steve kept you up-to-date with what was going on, but even after almost two months of having people undercover they’d only managed to get in with a few of the larger dealers on the island and they still didn’t have the supplier.

You figured it had to happen some time though, so even when those panic attacks hit, you didn’t run. You were falling in love and as much as you were trying to protect Geo from becoming attached to Bucky or Steve you knew he already was. And not just to Bucky or Steve, but to Tony, Pepper, Natasha, Clint, and FRIDAY too. You had to commit to this working for his sake and hope it wasn’t the worst decision you’d ever made.

They made it easy to commit to though. The three of you had been following the plan you and Steve had set out. Bucky had been sticking to your side for every outing. He came to parks and museums with you, always making sure to stay alert ever when Geo was babbling away to him or using him as some kind of organic jungle gym. Even after a month and a half of no signs of being followed he stayed alert in ways you had stopped being. He noticed everything, and it might have been part of the reason why you had started to relax so much.

The three of you had been taking time to bond with each other individually as well as together. It was working well and even when you did have small flares of jealousy over what might have been perceived as a special bond between Bucky and Steve that you didn't always feel you shared, they were quickly chased away when your own unique bond with each man was pulled into the spotlight.

This was not at all the life you had envisioned for yourself when you’d started college all those years ago, but considering the huge dip the roller coaster that was your life had taken, while this new high was unique, but you were definitely enjoying it.

Bucky had organized a trip to the Math Museum. He’d had to call ahead because the security at the venue was pretty tight and he didn’t want to have to explain why he was carrying two different handguns and three different knives into a children’s museum.

They let the three of you through the gift shop and as soon as you’d entered the play area Geo had rushed to the square wheeled tricycles and started riding one of them around in circles, occasionally needing Bucky to give him a little push but squealing with excitement anytime he got any kind of speed up.

“We really need to get that kid a bike,” Bucky said.

“Yeah, things like bikes were never really very practical,” you admitted. “I guess if we’re sticking around we can get one.”

Bucky smiled. It was a smile that made his eyes look soft and content and he wrapped his arm around your waist. “Next time we go out, we should take him to get one.”

Geo climbed off the bike and toddled over to you. You crouched down to face him and he flopped down onto the ground, his fingers opening and closing on the ground. “Down dare,” he said.

“You want to go downstairs?” You asked.

“They down dare,” he said and patted the floor.

“Okay, come on kiddo,” Bucky said, picking him up so he was upside down, kicking and giggling in delight. “Let’s go see downstairs.”

Bucky carried Geo down the stairs and it was clear even by halfway down what had been calling to Geo. The room was filled with interactive screens, battling robots, and floors that lit up with different games. Geo came alive. Running from activity to activity with no pattern you could follow but a smile that wouldn’t leave his face. There was no other kid there, regardless of their age that could keep up with him. Every machine seemed to want to please Geo and they all performed their roles perfectly for him.

It felt like you were down there for hours. Geo just jumping from one thing to the next. Eventually he started to wane and he ended up just lying down in the middle of the mathsquare - much to the annoyance at the kids trying to play on it.

Bucky went and scooped him up. “Okay, Gee, how about we go and get some hotdogs?”

“Bug-key,” Geo whined, flopping dramatically in his arms.

“Maybe we should just get him home, he looks pretty tired,” you said, as you walked upstairs with Bucky.

“Didn’t you want to head down to the farmer’s market?” Bucky asked. “You have the stroller right?”

You nodded. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

You grabbed the stroller and Bucky put the little boy in it. Geo immediately shoved his thumb in his mouth and held his hand up. Bucky dug around in this backpack and pulled out the tablet, giving it to Geo who immediately hugged it and closed his eyes.

Moments like these gave you such mixed feelings. Bucky had gotten so good with Geo he could read him without Geo using his words. He was becoming a dad to him more and more each day. It was wonderful in so many ways. Both Steve and Bucky seemed to love that role and it was rare to find men like that and here you had two who not only obviously liked Geo and cared about his wellbeing, but cared about you too and accepted that the two of you came as a package. Yet it was also terrifying. The more they fit that role the worse it would hurt if it didn’t last. It was so soon in your romantic relationship and it was so much pressure to love up to that even under normal circumstances things would feel like they were moving too fast and were too fragile to hold onto. And these were far from normal circumstances.

Bucky offered you his arm and you hooked yours around it and began the walk past Madison Square Park.

It wasn’t a long walk to Union Square Park and it was a nice day out. Geo was deep asleep by the time you arrived at the bustling markets.

“I consider myself a native and I don’t think I’ve ever been to these markets before,” Bucky said as you passed under the banner welcoming you to the markets. “There’s so much stuff.”

“What do you want to get? Purple carrots? Edible flowers? Little chilies that blow your head off?” You asked.

“Yes to all of those things,” he agreed. “But I’m hungry right now, so let's find something we can eat as we walk around.”

You found a place selling pastries and paninis and grabbed a sandwich each to eat as you strolled the markets. Bucky kept getting ideas for meals with every new stall. Your reusable bags were soon filled with colorful tomatoes and chilies, purple carrots, rainbow chard, edible flowers, crusty bread, pickles bottled in Amish country, fresh herbs, raw honey and milk, and a selection of cured meats and cheeses.

“I think we might have enough,” you said as Bucky started browsing punnets of fresh berries.

“We don’t have any fruit,” he argued. Geo likes blueberries and I could make a mixed berry pie.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t argue with pie,” you said.

Bucky had selected a few punnets and his phone rang as he went to pay. You took over for him as he answered the phone.

“Hey, Steve, what’s up?” He said, pressing the phone to his ear. “We’re at Union Square… Five minutes if I can get a cab… Alright, see you soon.”

He hung up the phone and looked at you. “Gonna have to go. Steve said it’s urgent.”

“Good urgent or bad?” You said, a familiar panic starting to close in around your heart like a snake.

“I don’t know. Come on,” he said, leading you back out of the markets. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #running to a standstill

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chocolatemin · 4 years ago

Text

word count: 7k

contains: fluff, angst, mentions of death, fantasy, historical au

note: i took so long in this one as the story line kind of changed over time, let’s just say that the change was for the better and that i stopped listening to cardigan halfway… anyway, enjoy!

Whenever someone dies, a new star is born and that’s because their souls vanish off to the galaxy.

“Long ago, there weren’t as many stars as we have to the present day. The human population is still small, therefore there are only a few stars up in the sky, until the Great War came, many soldiers died during the day and when the night fell upon it was the first time people saw the skies filled with stars.”

That’s what your grandmother told you.

You reminisce about your moments with your grandmother as you gaze upon the night sky, searching for the stars. It is a cloudy night so you are having quite a hard time finding your grandmother’s star. You inhale the earthly scent of the grass you are currently sitting on; finding solace amidst the darkness isn’t new for you as it has been your routine every night– except for rainy days, you really won’t find any star during those days.

“I told you not to stay too long outside alone at night.” You whipped your head towards the direction of the voice and saw your brother with his arms crossed over his chest standing near the fence.

“Oh, sorry, the sky is not that clear tonight so I took longer than usual.” You say as you stand up from your seat, dusting off your clothes before walking up to him. He shakes his head at you before offering his hand to help you cross over the fence.

“Let’s go home. It’s getting late.” You nod and follow along with him to your way home.

“Thank you, Chan.” You feel thankful having him as your brother, he never gets mad at you and he always tries his best to understand and support you.

“For what?” He turns to you confused.

“For being the best brother.” You said grinning at him widely and he just laughs at you.

The sun is shining brightly and you decided that it is a good time to trim the plants in front of your house. You are trimming the leaves of your flowers when you are interrupted by a cough followed by a sweet voice of a young man.

“A pleasant day to you, Mademoiselle, may I ask if Sir Chris lives in this area?” You spun your heels around and met with the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen. And to be honest, you do not trust the man in front of you despite his calm aura. Who knows the evil behind that mask?

“Yes, Sir…” You trailed off.

“Seungmin Kim, please call me Seungmin.”

“Yes, Sir Seungmin, do you have any business with him?” You asked, you can’t let that charming smile fool you; you’ve met enough of those people.

“Please drop the formality, I am not that old yet. And yes, I’ve heard that he plays instruments during occasions, my parents would like to invite him to play at my brother’s wedding.” He handed you a rolled up letter and tied using a light blue ribbon. The moment your fingers brushed against his, your vision turned white and a scene flashes in front of your eyes, sending chills and goosebumps all over your body. You immediately pull your hand back, grabbing the letter carefully and your vision returns.

“Thank you, Seungmin. I’ll give this to him as soon as he returns.” You gave him a faint smile, trying to hide the fear and shock whilst he looks confused by your actions.

“Alright, see you. Have a nice day.” With that, he quickly leaves, heading west, leaving you dumbfounded, still shocked.

You sighed. You’ve seen it again, that is why you absolutely loathed interactions with strangers.

Seungmin, on the other side regrets not asking your name nor your relation with Chan. He shook his head, knowing fully that his parents will scold him later, they’ll think that he gave it to the wrong person. However, he immediately shut his longing for your name with the thought that it wouldn’t matter if he knows your name or not because he won’t be able to see you again anyway.

The moment Chan arrives at your home, he is welcomed by a suspicious glare from you, with your arms crossed over your chest, sitting on the couch. Chan was surprised by you.

“Thank goodness you’re home, Chris.” You see him flinch at the name you called him, “I didn’t know I have a brother named Chris who plays instruments during special occasions.”

You are not mad, you just thought of this wonderful confrontation with your brother so that you can tease him. To be honest, you are proud of him. If he isn’t that good at playing instruments, no one will try to invite him to play, especially at a wedding, where everything about it would be the talk of the town for a long time. You enjoyed seeing his flustered reaction, as if he got caught picking your flowers. You almost laughed but you bit your lip to prevent the laugher slip out.

“Let me explain,” Chan sighed, “where did you get that information– no, it doesn’t matter, I, uh… Why are you doing this to me?” Chan fake cries, having his other hand on his chest while the other wipes off his invisible tears. You erupted in a fit of laughter, your brother looks really amusing.

“But, why didn’t you tell me about this?” You stand up from your seat, heading to the kitchen.

“You see… I don’t really have a stable job, I do what I think I can to earn a living for the us.” Chan sat on one of the chairs on the dining table, his hands placed together on the top of the table. You went over to him and placed your hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to overwork yourself, I am here to help you earn for the both of us. You know I work part time at Changbin’s bakehouse and at times I work at the palace whenever they need extra laundress. Is that not enough?” Your eyes soften as you feel your heart ache from the newfound information.

“Wait, I remembered something,” you straighten up your body and head to the living room, picking up the letter on the table across the fireplace, “Here’s an invitation for you.” You handed him the letter.

“A wedding?” Chan asks as his eyes skimmed through the content of the letter.

“They want you to sing for them.” You replied shortly.

“Lee Minho? The businessman?” Chan looks at you, confused.

“Aren’t they.. kind of.. wealthy?” You ask, you don’t really know them, but they are known for having fields and cows, having a large stall at the market. Chan nodded to your question and you brought up another question out of curiosity, “What does the letter say?”

“I will be playing two songs and woah- xx pounds?” Chan’s eyes widen and so do your eyes, “Wow, that’s a lot.”

“So, when is the wedding taking place?” You ask, pursing your lips.

“Tomorrow.” Chan looks at you, “Are you gonna come?”

“I don’t think I’m invited, besides, Changbin asked for assistance, we have to deliver a bunch of pastries tomorrow.” You turn your back to get two plates and utensils, placing them on the table while Chan placed the dinner on the middle of the table.

“Oh, alright.”

“Shall we eat now?” You ask as you take a seat across your brother, you look up to him and see him flash a smile.

“Of course.”

“Chan, I’m leaving!” You shout from the doorstep, slipping on your boots, ready to leave for your work.

“This early?” Chan shouted from his room.

“I’m helping Changbin bake!” You turned the knob and opened the door, “See you later!”

You arrived at Chanbin’s bakehouse slightly earlier than you agreed to so upon knocking on the door, you were greeted by him with his bedhead, “Morning, Changbin.”

“It’s literally 6 am, I thought 7 am was clear?” Changbin glares at you before stepping aside so you can get inside.

“Oops, I forgot~” You pull the sleeves of your working clothes up and fix your hair before stepping into the kitchen, trailing behind Changbin’s back, “Hey, I think you should get your sleep back and I will start preparing all the things we need for baking today. If I finish that early, I will start right away.” You turn to face him.

“Nah, it’s better to start early so that we can deliver the pastries early too. And after, I’ll drop you off to your home and you may take the day off.” Changbin waves his hand before carrying the sack of flour near the table, “I’ll take charge of the bread and kneading, you can make the mini pies and the cake batter.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” You ask as you carefully take the baking equipment from the cupboard, placing it on the working area.

“Then what are these muscles for?” Changbin raises his brow, patting his toned and muscular biceps.

“Ego boost, I must say.” You deadpanned as soon as you dropped the ingredients you took from the shelves on the table, earning another glare from Changbin.

“Sure, whatever. Just make the pastries and the rest are on me.” Changbin shook his head in defeat causing you to chuckle.

The both of you are too focused on your tasks that you didn’t notice the time passing, you exchanged short conversations to avoid the atmosphere turning dull as you both work. While preparing another set of mini fruit pie, you realize that you don’t really know what occasion you are making these pastries for.

“Changbin,” you muttered softly in which Changbin hummed in response, “I realized that you’ve never told me what these pastries are for.”

“Oh, yeah, these are for the wedding later.” He says as he takes out another set of bread from the oven.

“Who was it again? Min- Minho’s wedding?” You ask, quite unsure.

“Yeah, it is a bit odd that the wedding will take place in the late afternoon,” Changbin pauses, “I mean, most wedding ceremonies take place around mid afternoon and celebration in the evening.”

“So, how much time do we have left?” You ask, not sparing a glance to him, concentrating on the cake frosting.

“We’ve still got plenty of that.”

The moment you arrive at the hall, you are welcomed by the scent of fresh flowers but it is immediately replaced by the smell of pastries and bread you and Changbin baked. Getting off the carriage first, you carefully helped Changbin carry every serving cart that contains the pastries you baked and took out the four-layered cake last. A familiar face walked towards your direction with long strides, causing you to be flustered. He looks heavenly despite the formed sweat on his forehead and his wrinkled brows.

“You just arrived exactly at the time, let me help you bring these inside.” The young lad grabbed on one of the serving carts, accommodating you and Changbin inside the hall, each pushing a serving cart.

“You are Seungmin, right?” You try to strike a conversation, disliking the awkwardness surrounding the three of you.

“I’m surprised you remembered my name.” Seungmin glanced towards you but still kept his straight face.

“Well, you are quite the straightforward.” But that’s not the truth, of course, you remember him, after seeing that vision of yours, how can you forget him?

“I was in a hurry.” Seungmin timidly replies and you did not bother to ask anymore questions sensing that he must be already exhausted and stressed about the wedding.

Seungmin helped you take all the pastries inside the hall but you and Changbin told him that he can rest for a bit or work on something else since the two of you will be arranging the pastries according to a design. You saw that a three tier, large circular ceramic pastry stand is prepared on the table. Without further ado, you and Changbin started placing the mini fruit pies carefully in an assorted manner but in an enticing pattern. Another pastry stand is prepared for the bread and a white elegant cake stand with dangling crystals. You carefully placed the cake, not wanting to destroy it and which you successfully did, and the two of you high fived each other, giving a thumbs up for accomplishing the work.

“Oh! What a lovely cake!” You hear a high-pitched voice of an old woman, you immediately shoot your head towards her, you are guessing she is already in her late forties but her beauty is truly undeniable.

“Thank you, Madame.” You bow courtly as a sign of respect and accepting her compliment, “we just finished and we are on our way to leave.”

“I think I forgot to tell you two that you are invited to the wedding.” Mrs. Lee spoke in a soft tone, “Why don’t you wait at the chambers?”

Changbin spoke, “Thank you for the offer, Madame, but we still have to bring back the equipment, we will just return later, and make ourselves presentable too,” flashing a smile.

“Oh, alright. I’ll be waiting for you two.” Mrs. Lee smiles in return before leaving you and Changbin.

“You know what? We should hurry.”

By the time you make it to the wedding, the hall is already filled with guests and their relatives. It is a bit crowded but not to the point that it is suffocating.

“Fancy seeing you here, huh.” You turn to see Chan dressed in semi-formal clothes and you are not used to seeing Chan looking all good. He has his hair fixed, not a single strand is sticking out and he has the first button of his shirt open. Wow, is this really my brother?

“I thought you won’t come?” Chan asks.

“Mrs. Lee invited us last minute.” Changbin replies to Chan as they do their “friendship” greeting gesture.

“Do you have seats?” Chan raised his brow, causing you and Changbin to throw a glance to each other, basing off to the empty response, Chan spoke, “There are still available seats on my table, come.”

You follow Chan pass through the crowd, heading to a table quite near the orchestra.

The wedding is very simple but heartwarming and it is the time for everyone to dance while Chan is playing the piano, Changbin went over to a lady across your table to ask her to dance with him, leaving you alone at the table so you signalled Chan that you will be heading to the garden for a bit.

“Aren’t you afraid of being alone at night?” Your ears perk up at the familiar voice but you don’t move. Instead you heave a sigh and look up to the night sky.

“I think it ’s better than sitting alone at the table.” You hear the footsteps stop beside you, and you finally glance at him, “What are you doing here?”

“I really should be the one asking you that but fine,” Seungmin shakes his head, “I was just thinking of something.”

“Do you want to share what’s bothering you?” You don’t know why you are concerned and you hope that your question will not make him uncomfortable.

“Maybe telling a complete stranger wouldn’t be so bad, eh?” Seungmin turns his head to look at you, chuckling, and you find his question quite funny but not offensive.

“That’s not true.” You shake your head, “You probably know my name by now, and I already know yours.”

“Alright.” Seungmin chuckles to himself but it is cut short by a scoff, “You see, my brother just got wedded to his long-time lover, but…” He takes a pause, making you look at him, “they will soon marry me off to someone.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t like the sound of it, I’m still young and I want to be free. I want to explore the world.” You can’t help but feel bad for him, he must not want to get married and tied up to someone he barely knows. Seungmin diverts his eyes from the sky to you and catches you staring at him but you nod, telling him that you understand his feelings.

“It’s just unfair…” Seungmin looks down, sliding his hands to his pocket as he kicks a stone.

“Can I ask you something? Promise me you won’t get offended.” You moved closer to him.

“Go ahead.”

“Are you perhaps from a different family?” You try not to sound very rude.

“What do you mean by different family?”

“Aren’t you a legitimate child of them?” You catch Seungmin hitch a breath from your peripheral vision.

“How did you know about that?” Seungmin steps in front of you, a stern look on his face gave you chills. You didn’t mean to offend him.

“I-I’m sorry, it’s just that, y-you introduced yourself as a Kim instead of Lee…” You try to look away so you just stare at your feet.

“You are really different from everyone.” You cannot read his expression from the tone of his voice.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, but you have to tell me who you really are.” Seungmin places his arms in front of his chest.

“I don’t think this is the right time.” You try to reason out, “it will just give you a headache, I swear.”

Before he could speak, a voice interrupted the two of you, “I was looking for you!” You look over and see Chan waving his hand, the moon illuminating him so you can see his hand waving to you. “What are you doing outside?”

“I think, I should leave now,” You dusted off your clothes, “but I promise to tell you the next time we see each other.” Without sparing a glance to the young lad, you head to Chan, giving your brother an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I was getting bored seeing people dance, but I didn’t know you could play something cool like that!” You smack his arms while you walk back inside the hall.

Since that encounter, your words haven’t left Seungmin’s mind. He is frustrated. He needs an answer, he can feel that you are hiding a lot of things you know about him, from him. How come it is possible for you to know a lot despite meeting only twice? He can still remember the surprised look on your face on your first meeting. As if you had seen a ghost.

“The Feys do exist, they are scattered all around the world, but there are only a few of them.” Seungmin’s grandmother spoke softly, sitting comfortably on her rocking chair, holding Seungmin’s hand.

“Do you know someone, Nana?” Seungmin asked, his eyes sparkled with curiosity, his grandmother couldn’t blame him though, he was only ten– full of youth, energy, and curiosity.

“Your grandfather was.” Seungmin’s grandmother stared at the sun setting oh so slowly, “They do not harm anyone, but people are afraid of them,”

“But why are you not afraid of Grandpa?”

“He was the sweetest man I’ve ever met. He was gentle and he has a pure heart. I wasn’t scared the time he told me,” Seungmin’s grandmother paused, “but I was scared for him, I know it hurt him seeing his loved ones’ deaths.”

“But how do they do it?” Seungmin seemed like he would never run out of questions sooner. He was very eager to know more about his grandfather.

“The first time we met, we bumped into each other and I remember him passing out right there at the town square, so I brought him home, and the moment he woke up, he had a shocked look on his face and his hands were shaking. I asked him what was wrong but he said he has to go somewhere else and quickly left.”

“That is embarrassing…” Seungmin chuckled imagining the look on his grandfather’s face, he must have looked really weird in front of his grandmother.

“The visions happen in a matter of seconds, but to them, it’s like the time stopped for a moment.” Seungmin’s grandmother gently ruffled Seungmin’s dark locks.

“And oh, my dear, they can only see visions upon having physical contact with that person.”

Seungmin wondered why his memory with her grandmother suddenly replayed in his head. However his mind was too preoccupied by the thoughts and questions for you. It has been exactly a bothersome three months since he last saw you that night, during his step-brother’s wedding. His mind was filled with the thought of you during that three months, he was always reminded at night, how breathtaking you were as the moon shone brightly on the two of you, it felt like that moment was made only for him to see. But he shook the thought every time.

His mind was an utter mess.

As Seungmin wandered around the town plaza, his sight caught a glimpse of a silhouette sitting on the grass field, it was already dark so he couldn’t see properly. He didn’t know why, but his heart started to beat faster as he neared the fence.

“Sorry to interrupt you, but why are you alone here?” Seungmin’s voice resonates loudly in the midst of the quiet night but gained no response. Before he could think, his body was moving on its own– he jumped over the fence and walked towards the silhouette.

“Aren’t you afraid of being alone? Besides it’s already dark.” Seungmin asks calmly.

The moment you heard Seungmin’s loud voice from behind, you immediately freeze in your spot. To be honest, you were avoiding him. You never left your house except going to the bakehouse, skipped the stargazing, you didn’t go to the market, even deliver pastries when Changbin asked you to, and you admit, it was stubborn, but you really couldn’t risk seeing him again. You are too afraid of what might happen next. It is the first time you left your house for a long time since the wedding, and here you are, caught red-handed.

You hear his footsteps stop but you can’t look up to him, instead you lower your head down, “I don’t mind.”

“I-It’s you–”

Yes. And you promised to tell him the next time you meet.

“Would you like to keep me a company then?” You turn around to look at him, he is still as handsome as ever, but you notice that he has his hair styled up, and you thought he couldn’t get anymore gorgeous but you are wrong. You hope that he wouldn’t be able to see the blush creeping up your cheeks so you quickly turned your head away from him.

“What are you doing here alone?” Seungmin plopped himself about a ruler beside you, his legs in front of his chest while he placed his hand beside him to support his body

“I am finding my grandmother.” You faintly smile as you look up to the vast night sky causing Seungmin to find whatever you are talking about.

“What do you mean?” He tried squinting at the night sky but he still couldn’t understand you.

“Didn’t you know that whenever a person dies, a star is born?” You glance at him and you swear he gets more gorgeous every time you look at him.

“Where did that come from?” It is Seungmin’s turn to look at you and gaze with you for a while before you break it as you pointed at a bright star.

“See that star on the right side of the moon?”

“But there are so many stars.”

You quickly get up and sit closer to him, you feel him flinch as your arm brushes against his but you didn’t even budge and pointed again at the same star.

“That star, is my grandmother.” He could see the light smile forming on your face, “do you see it now?”

“Yes, but how did you know?” You return to your spot.

“I am not normal.” You are shocked that the words slip out from your mouth but you cannot lie, “it’s okay if you don’t believe me- I don’t expect but please never call me lunatic.”

“Can you tell me where my father is then?” You did not expect his answer but you see his serious face from your peripheral vision so you know you had to.

“Can you give me his name and date of passing?”

“Jiyoon, February twenty-sixth.” You can hear him sigh. “Should I tell you the year?”

“You don’t have to, I just need the month and day.” You close your eyes and you feel the night breeze blow against your bare skin, giving you light chills as you inhale deeply. You hear a ‘ding’ and you finally open your eyes.

Seungmin is shocked to see your eyes glowing amber and blinked a few times to see if it is just his mind playing tricks but your eyes are still glowing amber while you glance at the night sky in which he just assumes you’re locating his father.

Your eyes hastily searched for the star of Seungmin’s father until the familiar name caught your eye.

S-02J26Y

“I found him.” You turn your head to face him and Seungmin feels the goosebumps rise from his skin the way you looked at him, he finds it creepy yet you still look breathtaking despite your glowing eyes that soon returned to their normal color.

“Where?”

You point at the star beneath Regulus, “that’s him.”

What shocked Seungmin the most is that the moment he saw the star you are pointing at, he saw his favorite memory with his father flash before his eyes, his hands twitch beside him causing his back to collide with the ground.

“Oh my stars, are you okay?” You sat up from your spot and crouched beside him.

“Is it really like that?” Seungmin covered his eyes using the back of his hand.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to warn you.”

“That makes sense why you seem different from others, because you really are.” Seungmin removed his hand from his face and stared at you. There is a long silence as you look deeply into each other’s eyes and you feel more drawn to him.

“I think that’s enough for today. You should rest now. I’ll walk you home.” You stand up, offering your hand to him but he gets up on his own instead.

“No, I’ll walk you home.”

You hear a cough not too far from where the two of you stood and you immediately knew who it was.

“Chan.” you mutter under your breath.

The both of you turned your head at the same time.

“I don’t see the need to walk you home now.” Seungmin looks back to you.

“I have to go, but what about you?”

“Minho is waiting for me at the shop.”

“Alright, take care and head home safely.” You waved at him and he watched you jog up to the good-looking man standing behind the fence. Seungmin felt slight envy towards the man but he shook off the thought.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re meeting up with that guy?” Chan opens the door and steps aside, letting you in first.

“No, it just so happened that he saw me there.” You hear the doorknob softly click.

“But you were avoiding him, right?”

“Yeah…”

“I understand if you still don’t want to tell me why, just tell me whenever you are comfortable, a'ight?” Chan gives you a pat on the shoulder before walking past you.

The next day, as you are busy mixing all the ingredients, you hear the bell ring, a signal that someone entered the bakehouse so you quickly fixed your hair before heading to the counter.

“Seungmin?” Your mouth slightly falls agape as soon as you see the man.

“What are you doing here?” Seungmin tilts his head.

“I work here, have you forgotten?” You walk over to the counter, taking the list, ready to jot down his order, “What will you have?”

“Oh right, I almost forgot.” He looks like he was not really himself, “Mother asked me to get these.” Seungmin handed you a piece of paper containing a list of bread.

“Alright, give me a moment.” You held your hand up before turning your back to him. He watches you swiftly place all the bread on the list, and he would be lying if he says that his heart didn’t make tiny jumps. Even with your hair looking a bit messy, your apron and elbow smudged with flour and the tiny sweat that formed on your forehead, Seungmin cannot hide the fact that you still look pretty, even more captivating. You look different from that night, and he can’t help but imagine seeing you like that again this time as his spouse. Seungmin blushes at the thought, he never saw himself going this far over a girl he just met twice.

“All for a shilling.” You drop the basket on the top of the counter causing Seungmin to snap back to reality.

“How much is it again?” Seunin grabs ahold of his pouch.

“Twenty pence in total.” Seungmin clumsily grabs the coins from his pouch and hands you the coins.

“Are you perhaps free on Saturday?” You are taken aback by the sudden question but decided to play it cool.

“Why? Are you going to take me on a date?” You wink at him.

“Don’t let confidence get in your head, that’s not good for you.” Seungmin shakes his head but you laugh at his comment.

“Where are we meeting up then?” You are not afraid anymore, there is no point in hiding when he literally knows your house and where you work.

“The place where you stargaze.”

“See you.” He nods and you just smile in return as you watch him leave the bakehouse. Thank goodness. You sigh in relief.

Days after days, you keep seeing each other but he never visits your house. He always asks you to meet at the usual spot you’ve always sat on during the second time he met you. You definitely have gotten closer and a lot comfortable with each other but you are aware that if you keep meeting him, you’re going to catch feelings anytime soon which is not the best thing. You two would end up getting hurt, not because you are assuming things, but because it is bound to happen if you fail to control your feelings.

The future is up to you.

You are walking side by side with Seungmin as he walks you home but instead of enjoying the silence of the night, the both of you keep talking about the mystique of the world. It isn’t really the mystique you want to talk about but it is a way for you to keep talking. You craved to hear more of his voice and so does Seungmin. To him, your voice is like a sweet melody to his ears that lulls him to the hypnotic trance of your neverending symphony. You stop on your tracks as soon as you reach your house. However, you didn’t really feel like going inside, you fiddle on your fingers as you look down. There is something you want to say but you feel something caught up in your throat.

“Seungmin-”

“Y/N-”

You turn your heels to face Seungmin but instead you meet with his lips, capturing your own in a short moment of bliss. Your eyes widened and you quickly pulled away, flustered.

“Holy stars, I-I’m sorry.” You tilt your head and look over to the street. You prayed to the stars that Seungmin won’t notice the change of color of your face, “I should head inside now.”

“I was going to tell you that I wouldn’t be able to continue our nightly meet-ups til Saturday.” Seungmin says as if nothing happened. You feel your chest tighten.

“Important m-matters?” You trip on your own words and you mentally smack your forehead.

“We are going on a trip starting tomorrow.”

Great. You have all the time to recover from that.

“Uh, sure. Have a safe trip.” You try not to sound like you want him away from you.

“It won’t be for too long.” You place your hand over his shoulder, “It’s just a week and days pass by quickly, you won’t even notice that you’re about to go home.”

“I’ll miss you.” Seungmin whispers and your heart skips a beat. You got this. Just speak casually as if your lips didn’t accidentally ‘collide’ minutes ago.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Seungmin tries his best for the words not to slip out from his mouth, “I’ll get going now.”

You nod your head and smile.

“See you soon.”

Your days were spent feeling empty without Seungmin’s presence, but that didn’t help you at all to forget the kiss the night before he went on the trip. You didn’t have any contact at all. You spent your nights alone at the spot you usually sat on whenever you gaze at your grandmother’s beautiful star until one night.

You are peacefully enjoying the quiet night, lying down on the grass when you feel your hands burning, a shiver ran down your spine along with the cold sweat slowly forming on your forehead. You feel your body unable to move. It’s happening. Someone is dying at this moment. You thought to yourself. Your heart started beating erratically, you feel the inside of your stomach twist and it’s getting hard for you to breathe. You gathered your strength, pushing yourself to stand up. Your knees are trembling and you feel like you were hit by a train. It took you minutes to take a step, followed by another until you are only about a meter away from the fence. You feel the veins on your head pulsating and you remember the latest vision you had.

Seungmin.

You have to go to him.

With all your strength you try to walk faster, not minding the feverish feeling of your body, burning hands and jiggling legs. It’s either you have to save him or you have to find Chan, but there’s no way Chan will be fetching you tonight. You see a silhouette of a man running towards you, you squint your eyes trying to figure out who it is. You hear the man shout but all you can hear is the pulsating of your head and erratic heartbeat. You are nearing the fence and the man’s figure is becoming more visible to you, but before you make it to the fence, the last thing you see is pitch black void and the yelling of your name.

Seungmin, on the other hand, just got back. On the way to his room, carrying his luggage, he stops on his tracks when his vision suddenly swirls. He feels his heart slowly picking up its pace and his mind suddenly flooded with memories of you. He feels dizzy and unstable but God knows all he cares for. He has to see you. And so he dropped his luggage, frantically sprinted outside despite his legs feeling clammy. Minho and his spouse are left dumbfounded at the living room. Seungmin didn’t know your location but he has one thing in his mind– the field. He ran all the way to the field as if his life depended upon it. He was already halfway through the field when he tripped, causing him to stumble on the ground. He groaned in pain but that didn’t stop him from making his way. As he neared the location, he saw a silhouette not so far from the fence. He yells your name despite the burning of his throat and throbbing pain in his body, but as soon as he reaches the fence his body collapses on the ground.

Seungmin jolts up from his position and observes his surroundings.

“Oh, you’re awake.” He whips his head towards the voice and sees Minho seated not-so-comfortably on the couch.

“Where is Y/N? I have to see them.” Seungmin asks nervously.

“Huh? Y/N? Who is Y/N?” Minho furrows his brows and stands up from his seat, “Do you want to drink water first or are you going to eat?”

“The field, Y/N is there.” Seungmin doesn’t feel weak at all but his body isn’t just cooperating with him.

“I didn’t see anyone there. And why the hell are you running outside in the middle of the night?” Minho comes back carrying a tray in his hands, placing it on the top of the table near Seungmin’s bed, “Do you know how long have you been sleeping there? Five days.”

“What?” Seungmin is surprised, “You must be joking.”

“Just eat your food. You must have hit your head really hard.” Minho shakes his head at the younger’s response.

“Yeah, thanks.” Seungmin is hurt, he tried his best to find you but what if it was just him hallucinating that night? What if you really weren’t there just like Minho said.

That night, Seungmin couldn’t sleep so he got up from his bed and slipped on a nice pair of clothes topped with a coat. He quietly heads out from his room and sneakily goes over to the front door, slipping on his boots. He steps outside and closes the door behind him without making any sound, making sure to lock it, he has the spare key in his pocket after all. He took his time walking and his feet brought him to your special place. His heart swells as soon as he crosses over the fence. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the stars but the moment he did, he saw a new star, near your grandmother’s and he couldn’t believe his sight. Flashes before his eyes is the night you kissed, which is his favorite memory with you and he felt a pang in his chest. His hands are shaking and tears are forming in his pretty eyes. He closes his eyes as the tears start making its way to his cheeks. It is a moment of silence and melancholy, his heart is swelling with regret and despair. The cold wind blew and he couldn’t feel anymore lonely.

“There you are.” Seungmin wipes his tears before turning to the origin of the voice, and he sees you there, holding out a star in your hand.

“I am just imagining things, right?” Seungmin rubs his eyes, blinking a few times before looking again at your direction, “Am I dreaming?”

You take a few steps, stopping right in front of him with quite a distance. You lovingly gaze at his orbs as you let go of the star you are holding, “No, it’s me.”

The star floats to the sky and changes color as it goes higher, it stops just below the crescent moon before glowing amber, a line connecting forming a large constellation of stars, but the star only connects to the stars of other Feys. The fated to see deaths, the fated to die disgusted and avoided by people. It was the most beautiful night sky you’ve ever seen.

“I’m alive,” you smile at Seungmin, “I’m here.” You step closer to him and your hand reaches for the side of his face, wiping away the stray tears.

“Thank goodness, you are fine.” A tear escaped from your eye.

“What do you mean?” Seungmin places his hand on top of yours.

“I saw it, I was supposed to die that night.” You choked on your own words, this time you are telling him, “the day we first met, I saw myself dying beside you, and that was the first time I saw my death.”

“What does that mean?” Seungmin intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Your memories with me will fade and you will forget me as if I didn’t exist in the first place.” You mumbles lightly, hating the thought of him forgetting you.

“But you didn’t, right?”

“My lifespan is short and the universe should’ve taken my soul that night .” You cried, “But we weren’t together that night, and I completely forgot about it, by the time I remember it, I was so afraid that I won’t be able to say goodbye.”

Seungmin pulls you in a warm embrace, you can feel his body trembling as you nuzzle your head further on his chest, “but I saw you that night- I felt something strange and so I ran to the first place that came into my mind, but I collapsed before I can go to you. Minho said he didn’t see anyone.”

“That is the reason why I am still alive, because we were supposed to be together, but we weren’t.” You lace your arms around his slim waist, reciprocating the hug, “And I’ve never been thankful in my life. You prevented me from fading.”

“But why did I see your star?” You look up to him and see him staring at the star beside your grandmother’s.

“Consider this my second life, and that star has all my memories before I was about to die.” He lowers down his face to meet yours, gazing lovingly at your orbs. He doesn’t know what to say, his emotions are all messed up, despair, regret, anger, joy, bliss- all those in one night.

“But what about the star you are holding earlier?”

“That… I am not a Fey anymore… because I survived my own death.” You gently smile at him.

“Promise me to never leave my side.” Seungmin’s eyes are red and raw from crying so much, “we’ll forever gaze at the night skies, for as long as you want, just please stay with me.”

You nod at him and he presses his soft lips for a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“But Seungmin,” He hums and you removed your other arm from his waist, reaching to cup the left side of his face, your thumb gently grazing on his cheek, “You already have the galaxies in your eyes.”

And all he needed to know were answered with that.

50 notes · View notes

jacqueline314 · 3 years ago

Text

Desirable Greetings

Part 1

Carts, farmers, scholars, and merchants occupies the streets of large and massive, bright structures.

Welcome to Vria. A city, made out of columns of a mixture of limestone, sandstone, and other bright colored materials. There are districts with buildings that look similar to one another, it almost feels like a maze in certain spots of the city. Other structures are consist of columns with no walls, walls with no columns, columns with no roofs, columns with roofs, and walls with no roofs.

The history of this city takes back a hundred years ago. The founders were architects. They come from the distant east, after a kingdom had fallen. They were hired by the remaining survivors of the royal family. Their down fall was caused by a war, and they accept defeat. The architects were paid with a hidden stash of gold and treasure that were passed from generations. They were tasked to locate a land that would be best suited for not just the survivors’ taste, but also where the architects would paint their canvas.

It took a few decade of travelling, maneuvering and surviving to find their canvas. As they set foot to a beach with a cliff side, where the peak could just reach the heavens, and a stable slope from the back, they settled and put their lives’ effort to build Vria from the bottom up. The surviving royal family helped maintaining the resources and financials while building their home. After Fifty years, the city was built. It was then ruled under, the royal family’s most organized sister, Queen Luisa Sevada. And every year, they celebrate on two separate days of the start and end of the harvest season. To dedicate the memory of their new found home. And that is the story of Vria.

With in the middle of the day, a tiefling merchant was selling goods to shopper. His shop consist of dried meats, fresh fruits, vegetables, and herbs. He to wards a new face that was approaching to him. He sees a human girl with Short, shiny black hair, olive skin, and dark brown eyes, wearing goggles with magnifying lenses, a brown cloak, studded armor with one glove attachment, modest orange clothing under the armor with only one sleeve that's opposite to the glove and a bag that hangs across her body. Strange to see someone wear any armor, considering that she seems to be over ten years old for a human.

As they get closer, the merchant goes “Hello and what can I get ya?”

She then replies “Hi, what can I get with five copper?” Her voice sounds lightly squeaky.

“Well, that will get you one fruit, half a meat jerky, and a hand full of herbs.”

“What kind of fruits do you have in stock?”

“Umm...just the usual oranges and apples. Oh oh! I just remembered we have one mango left in stock. These are our best sellers.”

The human girl smiles as she says “I will try one then.”

He hands over the mango to her and she pays the five copper. As she walks away from the merchant, peeling the fruit, the merchant goes “Pleasure doing business with you.” As she bites into the mango, she turns around and waves goodbye to him.

“He’s very nice.” She mutters while chewing the mango in her mouth.

He wasn’t kidding about the mango being sold out very quickly. the texture is soft, moist, and the taste is really sweet. Sweeter than any apples and oranges combined. The fruit is very drippy with every bite intake. The juices falls onto her cloak. Other drops slide to her chin and falls on her leather armor. Eventually, her hand will get soaked with the juice when she finishes it.

Amongst the big crowd, she finds a fountain in the middle. She heads towards it to take a seat. She finishes eating the fruit, but she doesn’t know where to put away the scraps. The streets are relatively clean. She finds two families sitting on the fountain as well. One of them are sitting near her and the other is on the opposite side. The human tries to secretly wash her hand and the scraps to get rid of the sticky juice, but the small toss of the fountain water, towards her hand, creates a splash loud enough to get their attention.

They glance over to the human in concern. She smiles at them and says “Hi.”

They continue to watch her as she dips the scraps with her hand into the fountain, washes it, shakes off the excess water, and places it into her bag.

The family then stood up, gather their things and walked away. “You look lovely today.” She said as they left.

A moment passes, then she hears a loud voice that goes “Attention! Attention! A big event has occurred!” It seems to be the Town Crier, giving announcements.

“The queen has said word that the princess’ coronation will be at sundown, today!”

The blacked haired human looks around and sees the surprised discomfort of the crowd. She hears some of them mutter “Sundown?”

“Our attires aren’t ready.”

“Strange.”

The Town Crier finishes handing out the papers and shouts “Alright, go and get ready! The Queen also says that she wants every one to witness this!” And they all rush their walking pace in order to not be looked down upon the royal family.”

As they all nudge and push through each other, our human swiftly maneuver through the crowd, pretty well handedly. After a while, it fells less crowded that it was. In order to not take the chance of being over run, she finds the nearest, stable column that’s short enough to climb on to, but as her hand gets a grip of it, someone bumped into her and she was pushed away from her safe zone. She’s prone to the ground and crawls towards a corner to hide in. People didn’t seem to notice her presence, considering the task at hand. She sit’s there until the sun is about to turn the sky orange.

Carts and horses are tucked away and fed by the owners before they leave for the coronation. The streets are clear of the market stands, that it’s even less crowded than it were previously. The locals are wearing formal attires, some with hints of yellow to intimidate gold. Our human comes out of her corner and walks along the crowd as they all head to the ceremony.

She eventually arrives to the palace. It’s ginormously large, bigger than any other large building she encountered. On what she can see on the front, there are two watch towers on either side, and small statues of Aasimars. One on top of each tower, and center peak of the front. There are also a set of stairs on the base of the palace, and giant columns that support the roof. Upon entering though the iron bolted doors, the main hall/throne room, has many tables and chairs, exclusively for everyone. Torches hanging on the walls and columns. Above there are a couple of large bowls of fire, hanging from the ceiling and interior balconies that over look all the central bottom floor and the opposite side of where the viewers can see. The thrones are located at the back, there are two of which belong to the queen and her mate. And a red curtain behind them.

A lot of people seem to have taken their seats. Our human finds hers as well, located near the second column from the front left. Upon sitting, she sees other people who attended the coronation, not wearing what the locals wear. They seem to be dressed modestly like her. There are mixtures of races within the building. There are Aarakocras, Dwarves, Goliaths, Elves, and a group with a tiefling, a couple humans, a pale soldier, what seems to be an orc, a pink firbolg, and a green halfling. Perhaps it’s an open house party.

Time passes as the tables are being filled. Then, a clinking sound appears from the thrones. The choir sings in a beautiful tune, in front of the thrones. What comes out of the curtained background of the thrones is the king. A Tiefling in his late fifties, with a white color stripe on his beard, wears a blue robe. He bows forward to the audience, stands up, and walks towards his throne that’s on his left, to sit down. Another clink occurs and comes out, the queen. A Goliath and also in her late fifties, wears a pink dress. She bows as well and walks toward her thrown on her right to sit. And after that, comes out the princess. A Tiefling like her father, and seems to be almost in her twenties. Has majestic long hair, a round face, and tanned skin. Wears a green dress, and seems to be holding a scepter with two hands. It’s made out of valuable material and the top of it is in a circular ring shape. There are six spikes around with non pointed shapes, and four chains, linking towards a central jewels, what appears to be a Jasper.

She then clinks the ground with it, and what appears to be an elderly female bishop. The princess then drops the scepter into a compartment, so it will stand in front of the throne. She turns and the bishop hands her, what seems to be a family heirloom. A crystal, covered out of a precious metal. The princess faced towards the audience, and the bishop raises a golden choker with a pearl attached, as the choir stops singing. She chants in a Zemnian language as she lowers the jewelry to the princess’ shoulder levels and as she was about to attach it to the princess’ neck, she finishes her chant by saying “Queen Bree Sevada” And every one in the building cheers in her name.

Then, while the audience clap, our human notices that the bishop twirled the princess’ hair on her right as she placed her hands on her shoulders. A moment passes, and servants came down the stairs on each side of the hall, bringing the guests food and beverages. When all of them were set, Queen Bree says “May the feast fill your desires.” and bows to them, then turns and joins her parents on her own throne that the servants brought to her after the coronation.

The food is consist of pastries, roasted chicken, potatoes, fruit and vegetables. And the drinks are pitchers of water and bottles of wine. Everyone, and our human, starts gathering food and eating their plate. There were not enough chairs for every one, because of tourists, though the former queen had already thought this out. There is a buffet amongst the sides of the main hall, for the extra guests to grab a plate and have their free evening meal.

When everyone finished their dinner, it has turned dark. And all of a sudden, they all hear a tune playing. There are a hand full of people who are just holding their plats while standing in the doorway.

They all looked outside and one of them shouts “There’s a band playing outside!”

One of the guests says “I wanna go dance.” And it encourages more people to go out and dance as well.

Our human stands at the door way, sees the band at the bottom of the stairs, and pairs dancing to the beat.

She hears a couple of guests, sitting on the side of the stairs, one of them tells the other “This is so weird. First the early coronation, and now a band outside? They say that there will be a dance after, but don’t coronation dances take place inside? They even said that the palace has a ball room big enough for all of us.”

It brought concern to her. If that were the case, that would mean they want to watch us dance. As she turned to check on the royal family, she finds no one at the throne area, but she does catch a glimpse of the king and queen walking through a door on the left of the throne. She rushes over them as the echoing sounds of her steps fills the room.

She reaches to the door and knocks on it “Your majesties, is there something wrong?”

The door creaks open slightly, then a voice goes “They no longer hold that title and are very busy right now, please do not disturb.” She can’t see anything from the door crack. There is no torch light in there.

The door closes and she tries to keep the gap open, but her middle and ring finger ends up being crushed by the door. “AHH-” She screamed in agony, but blocked off her sound with her off hand.

She didn’t want the citizens to panic over the disappearance of their new queen.

She then pulled in her fingers and held them tightly to numb the pain. “I know you have a ball room in the palace, why are we dancing outside anyway?”

There was silence, no reply. “I’ll help you with anything, please tell me what’s wrong?”

A minute passes, then the door opens, they waved their hands to for her to enter. She gets in, and the door closes behind her.

The sound of a spark creates a fire to light and the inside is a ten by ten feet room. A door that leads to the back and another door where the human just entered. There is a shelf of brushes and a broom. It seems to be a a cleaner’s closet.

The Goliath former queen and Tiefling former king are wrapping each other with their arms, holding one another. “What’s wrong?” said the human.

“Tell us your name.” Asked the Tiefling.

She replies with “I am Ezuvae.”

“Ezuvae what?” says the Goliath.

“It’s just Ezuvae, madam.”

“You are very young” says the tiefling.

Ezuvae replies “I helped out my master when he needed things like errands and monsters that encountered his home.”

“I see”

“But I want to help you. I have the sense that you’re in trouble.”

The two glanced over at each other and back to Ezuvae. The former queen goes “Our daughter is in trouble.” They then tell what happened two months ago. Bree was studying in her room. She wanted to learn how to solve problems, and help our people. However, she had trouble understanding some particular books she had because they were written in Zemnian. They hired the bishop since she spoke and read Zemnian. It wen’t fine until earlier today. The bishop ambushed their meal with pirates and snatched Bree. She demanded to have the coronation at sundown or the pirates will harm her. Once the coronation was over, they have to draw out the guests in order to have the new queen all to herself. She even told the two to not disturb them.

“Where is Queen Bree right now?” Asked Ezuvae.

The former king lets go of his wife, and places both hands on Ezuvae’s shoulders and goes “The bishop took her to our room. It has our family’s mark on it.”

Ezuvae is guessing that the mark is in a hexagon shape with what seems to be a weird looking pine tree going through. The trunk is too short & thin, and the leaves and branches forms a kind of tall pyramid separated into pieces. She has seen that mark when she arrived here.

As she starts to turn to the door, the tiefling hold her still and continues “What ever you do, don’t let your guard down. The bishop hasn’t been herself lately.”

She nods to him as the guard, who was holding the door the entire time, opens it and she swiftly heads up to the closest flight of stairs.

Just as soon as she reaches to the top the stairs, a crossbow bold flies pass her face and pierces to the stone wall. She lost balance when she leaned back, but she quickly grabbed hold of the railing and stands back up again. She glances to her right, she sees for a brief moment, what could be the captain, and their crew member.

A deep voice occurs and goes “Get them!” as foot steps are fading to the left.

They are in a 10ft wide/ 180ft long hall way with a set of doors on the right that lead to a room she doesn’t know. and two path that lead to the left

The pirate rushes towards her, swings his hook, but she dodges the out of the way, still holding on to the railings. She then goes pass him, grabs the pirate’s back, leans backwards, sets her feet on him, and launches him across the hall as she rolls to a three point stance. The pirate falls on to his back., just laying there. As Ezuvae stands back up, another pirate takes her swing with a light hammer, but Ezuvae manages to stop it on time. The pirate then disengages, going 10ft backwards into the open path. The other path is an intersecting hall way. The human can see the captain heading into another path, behind the pirate.

Ezuvae force kicks the pirate and tries to punch her, but she immediately gets out of the way. The human tries to kick her again, but she blocked it and punched Ezuvae right into the face. She steps back 5ft. Meanwhile, the pirate that was prone, stands up and sees Ezuvae, backing up from the punch. He rushes towards her from the back. The other pirate takes a swing at her. The hammer hits her stomach. Ezuvae pulls out her dagger and stabs the pirate on the back (literally) By this time, she notices the first pirate rushing. She passes by the other and quickly heads towards the end of the hall way. The two Pirates rush towards her, one of them throws the hammer but it misses.

As Ezuvae was running, she pulls out a small metal barrel with a wooden base and points it at them, it made a small explosion and the wall seemed to be hit my a mysterious force. With that, the pirates stop themselves from chasing. Ezuvae continued on forward into another hall way.

Based on where she saw the captain headed, she follows. Upon looking for the master bedroom, Ezuvae finds an open door. In it, was an alchemist’s lab. There is a lot of equipment, chemicals and elements, fully stocked. She finds a greater healing potion, on one of the desks and a container of sulfur pieces. She takes this opportunity to craft equipment and drinks the potion. After twenty minutes, she has crafted a blasting powder within a pouch. After that, she rushes out to the door, she accidently bumped a shelf, and a weird potion spilled on her. There seems to be no effect, so she continued onward.

Racing against time, she finds the family’s mark on the door. Ezuvae looks around and finds a few paintings on the wall. They’re portraits of the royal family. At least, what’s left of them. She takes Princess Bree’s, the painting before the coronation. Holds up the painting’s back towards the door and kicks it open. As the doors flung open, a bolt appeared on the painting. The tip nearly touches her armor. Ezuvae drops the painting to see the captain standing on top of the bed. He has long hair, wears a purple robe, and welds a hand crossbow with a long sword on his side. The room itself, is large. About 40/50ft. Four columns supporting another interior balcony, two flight of stairs, and a huge window behind the bed. The captain quickly reloads his crossbow then the human hides behind the column. He fires but it misses.

“Just c’mon and give up!” Yelled the pirate.

“Our master promises she will give us great pleasure when she’s done with the queen. She may be old, but she knows how to satisfy a man.”

Ezuvae muttered “Ew.”

He then hops off the bed and walks toward the pillar she’s hiding. He draws his sword as he continues “You might have a taste of her, if you’d stop interfering.”

He stops at the pillar and peaks around, “I promise we’ll go slow.”

And all of a sudden, she quickly draws the barrel and points it at the captains face and *Boom* nothing happened to him, except for the loud sound. He got startled and stepped back.

Ezuvae drops the blasting powder underneath him, runs away from him and points the barrel at the pouch. It explodes, launching him 3ft into the air and prone to the ground. The human rushed over to him, kicks away his crossbow, tries to steal his sword but that was unsuccessful. She then proceeds to punching his stomach and miss stabbing his wrist that welds the sword. She backs up as the captain gets up. Unable to do anything at the moment, Ezuvae stabs him twice but misses, and she grabbed him to head-butt him.

The pirate captain slashes his sword at her, but somehow, Ezuvae didn’t get cut. He aimed at her stomach, so why aren’t her gut spilled out?. With out even thinking, Ezuvae slashes him with the dagger. Her two attempts miss, but the third and punch succeeds. He aims towards her head and misses, but she manages to slash him. She also kicked the back of his leg to fall on one knee.

As he gets up and turns around, he was met with an upper cut. Falling backwards, he becomes prone once again. Ezuvae stabs his wrist, making him let go of his sword. He screams from the pain and then she kicks him in the face. He quickly gets up and grabs his sword with his other hand., but as he stands up, he gets greeted with a kick in the stomach. He manages to keep standing after backing a few feet.

Looking at his condition, he looks really beaten up. Blood is comming out of the stab wounds and from the head-butt.

Ezuvae says “You should be the one to give up.”

Without saying anything, He swings at her, but missed. She then slashes him, and points the barrel at his right shoulder. *Boom* blood splashed on to the floor, and He lies there unconscious.

After a relived sigh, Ezuvae hears a sinister laugh. And behind her are the sound of chains clanking. She turns around to see Queen Bree being lowered down. Her wrists are shackled over her head. Her dress, completely shredded, leaving behind a shoulder piece and strips of her dress. And her one-piece girdle is exposed to see. And her face expresses in a miserable exhaustion. She can see the leftover trail of tears on her cheeks.

Shocked to see her condition, Ezuvae shouts to her “YOUR MAJESTY!! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!”

The voice echoes the room “Ha ha ha ha ha,”

Glancing up, she sees a red humanoid figure falling from the ceiling and circles around her before it hits the ground, and continues saying “She cant hear you. I drained all of her energy. But don’t worry, it’ll return after a few hours of rest.” It then stops and floats in front of her.

What Ezuvae sees the figure with red skin, sharp nails, a pointed tail, giant bat wings attached to the back, and wears the attire of a bishop. Taking a closer look, she realizes that the winged figure is the bishop she saw before. Ezuvae was frightened for seeing a being like this for the first time. The bishop smirked. Ezuvae glances towards the queen behind the bishop, and shrugs off the fear. She then puts away the barrel, holds the dagger with both of hands in front of her. The bishop was impressed. Like it is her first time encountering such bravery.

But she gives Ezuvae a remorse look. “Delicious, but annoying. So, DIE!!!” She then takes her claws and swings it at Ezuvae.

Before the claw meets, Ezuvae felt a shattering force hitting on her back. Then what comes a blue mist surrounding her. The red bishop backs away from the mist, cause it harmed her mildly, and what comes are two individuals running into the bedroom. As the mist fades, Ezuvae sees them in front of her. On her right is a wood elf, welding a staff, wearing a brown robe with the royal family’s marking on the back. And on her left is a tiefling wearing chainmail armor, welding a mace and a shield.

“What was that?” asked Ezuvae.

“I just gave you an upgrade.” answered the tieflng.

Confused, she was about to ask- but was cut off when the wood elf goes “No time for questioning. We have to save her.”

He’s right. Ezuvae positions herself by widening her stance, lowering her body, points the dagger at the bishop, and rests her free hand on the bottom handle.

The elf walks forward to the bed and releases a lightning bolt, from this chest, at the bishop. The strike boils her veins, painfully. Ezuvae then gets closer underneath and throws her dagger, right on to her stomach, and backs away. The tiefling then summons a spiritual weapon next to the bishop. The weapon is in a form of Darlin the Baseball Bat. It takes a swing and hits the back of her head. The bishop leans forward from the blow.

Looking at the bat, the bishop notices Ezuvae and casts a charm spell on her. Evuvae felt her body being paralyzed as the speel takes over. She can’t speack either. All she can do is watch and feel the world around her. The bishop then flies towards Ezuvae. The elf runs toward the human and tries to hit her with his staff, but she dodged the impact. She then kicked the elf and pulls the dagger out of the bishop. But then, *POW* Ezuvae gets hit right at the face by the tiefling’s handle. The hit was able to brake off the spell. As the bishop was surprised, she gets hit on the head again by the magic baseball bat.

Frustrated, she charges toward and slashes Ezuvae and the tieffling with her claws. Ezuvae got scratched on her shoulder, it felt worse than a slap, while the tiefling blocks it with her shield. The bishop scratches the shield, and the tiefling pushes forward, grabs her arm, and the bishop feels her arm being pierced over and over again like salt rubbing her wounds. And then was pushed 180 degrees around the tiefling. As all of that is happening, the spiritual weapon flies over, behind the bishop and smacks her once again. After that, the elf also smacked her head with his staff. The bishop is weaken. The necroticy did a number on her. As she lies prone, Ezuvae kicks her over, pulls out and points the barrel at her beaten face and says, “You’re gross.” And the bishop’s head explodes, leaving a splatter of blood and bits of scorch marks all over the floor..

It’s now over. They won. After a minute passes the elf created a magical hand to unshackle the queen’s wrists. Ezuvae stands underneath Queen Bree to catch her. As the chains are freed, she falls onto Ezuvaes arms. She manages to catch her, but being bearably clumsy, she falls back, onto the bed. The queen lands flat on top of her. Her head rests next to Ezuvae’s, arms still over her head. In a brief moment, her arms contract and wraps them around Ezuvae. She’s still unconscious, but she feels like there’s someone there. Whatever happen to her, whatever she experienced, she holds that person tight and does not wish to let go. She wants to feel safe. Ezuvae felt Bree’s sorrow.

She wraps her arms around her body, holds her in close and whispers “Don’t worry, you’re safe now.”

#oc #d&d inspired #fan writing

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writingbakery · 5 years ago

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Oh my god I freaking love aus,, do you?? So,, may I request hcs for um, Denki and Shoto (sorry if you only accept one character)?? With a royal au? You can decide the reader and their caste or job or whatever.. thank you!! I love your writing so far!

[hello bb anon! i 1000% ADORE AU’s! they’re some of my favorite things to write if i’m honest!

a royal au sounds lovely, & i hope these hc’s fulfill your wishes! thank you so much for requesting! 💓]

“A Taste Of Royalty”

[Knight!Kaminari & Prince!Todoroki hc’s, with gender neutral! reader💓]

Knight! Kaminari Denki

as a commoner in the kingdom, you don’t really interact with royalty much.

you’re a simple crafter, selling your wares in the market every morning & retreating to your little cottage to tinker in your garden in the evenings.

you’re arranging your wares on the little clothed table under your seller’s tent when someone crashes into you full force, sending you both flying

for a moment you’re completely dazed, blinking away the dizziness as you sit up on the remains of your - shattered! - table & crafts

there’s fast waving hands in your face immediately, concerned golden eyes meeting yours as the cause for all this mess squats down in front of you

“are you alright? i’m terribly sorry, but that man was going to rob you! and in broad daylight no less, the scoundrel!” the criminal in question is unconscious on the ground next to you, and your heart races a little at the awful thought of him hurting you

“well now there really isn’t anything to rob me of, is there?” you joke, gesturing to all the ruined wares around you, and your “hero” is immediately stumbling over himself to apologize red-faced

you learn his name - sir kaminari denki, third knight to the ever irritable king bakugo and apparently one of the most gifted swordsmen in the knighthood (shocker, huh?)

he ends up buying all the shattered pieces despite your protests, insisting that it was the least he could do as he pressed the gold into your hands

he becomes a regular patron of your little market table, stopping by every morning without fail to purchase a trinket or two and press a warm pastry into your hands - “i could never allow my favorite merchant to go hungry, now could i? how unknightly!”

he takes to walking you home in the evenings as well, to ward off any other potential robbers - or so he says, ears dusted pink as he fiddles with his scabbard

even once you’ve arrived home he lingers, leaning over your back fence to chat your ear off with all his castle adventures as you tend to your garden

you never mind his near-constant presence, however; it’s adorable how he trails at your heels like an excited puppy

you also can’t deny your own growing feelings for the energetic blonde, he’s just... well. handsome, brave, spirited, kind, everything

but with the realization that your feelings are changing, so comes the realization that the two of you come from vastly different worlds.

you were just a simple commoner, and denki was third in waiting to the king! the king!

still, you couldn’t help but indulge yourself in his company, even if you knew your feelings were irrational

he’s the one to make the first move of course, his overly energetic attitude pushing him to confess one misty morning

when you arrive to the market you find denki already there, sheepishly hugging a bouquet of bright wildflowers to his chest in full knights’ attire

(he’d spent four hours scrubbing his armor just to impress you)

he immediately launches into a half hour spiel about his feelings for you, tackily comparing “your smile to a midsummers sweet rain” - so he’d read a little poetry to prepare, he was in love!

you can barely get a word in as he rambles, his nerves shining through as he twists his hands - he’d been wringing the flowers half to death before you’d rescued them from his iron grip

you’re trying to be patient and hear him out, but god does kaminari talk - he’s so wrapped up in his own anxious word vomit that he looks like he might just faint

you take pity on the mess of a knight in front of you, stepping forward to press a gentle kiss to his flushed cheek

“i know. now can you help me set out this basket?” you ask, a hint of a laugh to your words as you tuck one of the wildflowers behind his ear

the poor knight can barely speak, mouth open so comically that you give in and laugh, patting his chin.

“come along, sir lovestruck. assist me with this and we’ll collect pastries for this evening.”

he almost trips over himself rushing to help you, but he’s smiling so wide you don’t think he even noticed.

“that’s sir lovestruck, third in waiting to you, darling!”

Prince! Todoroki Shoto

as the castle’s head tutor for the arts, you’re used to dealing with royalty

you took your job as royal tutor extremely seriously, despite the subjects being deemed less important to some of the nobles

however, you don’t always get along with your “students” - most of the royals you taught were your own age or older, and they were awfully spoiled

the only one you could truly say you liked & were friends with, not just tolerating, was the crown prince

he had a notorious reputation for being cold and impassive, never speaking more than a few words & only when absolutely needed, but you knew him as a much different person

in fact, the only time he was ever cold to you was your very first meeting. you’d sat in the royal library for an hour waiting, a little panicked - you’d never tutored someone so very important, the prestige on his shoulders immense

when he finally arrives there’s a bruise decorating his jaw, and an absolutely chilling look in his eyes - your nerves are steadily growing by the second

but then he simply sits down across from you at the table, his stoic expression never leaving. “i apologize for keeping you waiting. Father insisted on extra swordfighting lessons.”

his voice is so calm and monotone, almost as though he’s barely even present, and yet his eyes remain locked on yours, never flinching away

“a-are.. are you alright? would you like me to fetch you some ice? here, the lesson can wait-“ immediately you’re up out of your chair and fussing over him, dabbing at a cut just under his eye and shoto is ... well he’s confused.

he’s not used to people caring for him in such a way, especially not strangers he’d just met a few minutes prior

the entirety of your first “lesson” was spent patching him up, your easy chattering filling the silence between the pair of you. you told him all about where you’d lived in the kingdom, and how you’d gotten such a position, all while he sat and allowed you to tend to his minor wounds.

his silence didn’t bother you, even when his next three lessons passed in a similar quiet - you could tell he was listening, and he always gave some sort of physical cue that he was following along, a more tranquil look settling onto his features as time went on.

little by little, he starts opening up - a quick snippet of his day, a smile at one of your silly jokes. he’s no prince charming, but he’s certainly not the robot that the kingdom makes him out to be - he just needs a little encouragement!

soon, the two of you are thick as theives, sneaking around the castle when shoto’s meant to be having archery lessons, stealing mince pies from the kitchen when the head chef isn’t looking. you’re partners in crime, much to the disdain of his father, and before you can stop yourself you’re head over heels for the crown prince.

oh right. the crown prince. who would eventually ascend to the throne and marry some faraway princess for power, or land. not you.

you try your best to bury the emotions deep within your chest, but shoto’s nothing if not painfully observant. he can see you shying away, becoming more reserved, not allowing yourself to indulge in the daydreams of your heart.

he’s a bit oblivious, so he doesn’t know why you’re pulling away honestly. he knows his own feelings from you have long since passed friendly, despite his father’s complete disdain for you

he may have had a shouting match in the throne room with king endeavor, making him swear he wouldn’t relieve you of your post or have you sent away - so the man keeps his distance despite his disapproval

still, it takes an overly flirtatious stable boy for shoto to finally confess his feelings for you

you’d both been planning a quiet horse ride towards the meadows, content to enjoy each other’s company as you enjoyed the day. however, one of the new stable boys has much... different notions.

“you’ve chosen a lovely steed! not quite so lovely as yourself, however!”

he’s so busy trying to charm the pants off you that he doesn’t even realize the crown prince is right behind him, staring daggers into his skull. if looks could kill, shoto would’ve been a murderer that day.

“i do not believe we require your services further.” his voice is uncharacteristically cold - downright frosty, and the stable boy is gone before the pale on his cheeks properly sets in.

you’re not used to such behavior from shoto, especially not when he hauls you up on his horse in front of him. “one horse is more efficient,” is all he says as he grips the reigns, arms encircling your waist.

you’re blushing without even realizing, leaning back against him as he spurs the horse on. “if you wanted me all to yourself, you simply could have asked,” you tease in an effort to hide your flustered expression.

he’s silent for a moment, and you fear you’ve gone too far before he speaks.

“well. i suppose i am asking. stay with me?”

needless to say, your afternoon in the meadow was peppered with sweet laughter and even sweeeter kisses.

[hope you enjoyed! 💓 feedback is always appreciated!]

#bnha x y/n #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki headcanons #kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #kaminari headcanons #fantasy au #royalty au #knight! kaminari denki #prince! todoroki shoto #headcanons #imagines #evywrites

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enchanted-prose · 4 years ago

Text

#12 A Bloody Ballad

and with this fic, I have officially crossed into the 60,000 word count territory. I've also decided that I will finish this ficlet series by July 14th and submit it to Jennifer Nielsen’s fan content competition.

Word count: 5,715

Characters: Jaron, Mott, Jolly (Original character who deserves lute rights), Lord Thomas Row (a babey and original character), Merry (Original character), Commander Regar (Original character), Roden, Tobias, Renlyn (Original character), Princess Amarinda, Imogen (this one’s a reAL party)

Notes: This was creepy even for me to write, so that’s your warning. Edited and ready to be read!

Enjoy!

The sneezing never stopped.

Always sneezing.

And it was all that cat’s fault.

Jaron rubbed his eyes. It wasn’t the cat’s fault, it was his. He should’ve thought about his reaction to the cat when Renlyn managed to sell it to him. Cat hair was everywhere.

But by the Saints, nothing could best the smile Imogen had when she held that kitten on her lap.

He didn’t mind silent suffering if it meant Imogen’s happiness.

Her secret smiles filled his head. The way her hand sought his whenever they were near each other kept his feet planted on solid ground. Jaron knew that Imogen’s mere presence gave him the focus to solve every puzzle at his fingertips.

However, it went deeper than that.

Imogen insisted on looking him over each time he got into trouble. She had no qualm about staying up until the early hours of the morning when memories of Avenia plagued him. Her love came in gentle forms; she brought him deftly spun bracelets, a spoonful of sweet pastry dough, ruffled his hair with flour covered fingers.

He could sneeze for a millennia for her.

With each passing day, his stance seemed more and more likely.

Did the Saints sneeze?

Energy burst through him without a warning. Jaron stood up, nearly knocking his chair to the floor. He snatched the letter he’d been reading and began to pace. King Kippenger was sending a representative to discuss the situation Avenia was in.

There was nothing Jaron wouldn’t do to assist an ally, save abdicating the throne and a few other atrocious acts of course. He was prepared to give aid to Avenia in any shape.

He was prepared to send his best military leaders to action if needed.

His mind instantly began thinking about what news Kippenger’s representative would be bringing. The path he walked was familiar. It gave him space to think outside of his normal routine. To the corner, to the door, to the shelf, back to the desk.

Thomas Row, that was the representative’s name. A farmer raised to nobility after demonstrating his loyalty not only to Avenia, but to Kippenger during the first months of his reign.

Carthya’s harvests over the past four years had been wondrous, and a new push for education thanks to Amarinda and Tobias. Feall was working with Roden, and Jaron was confident that Feall would make a capable temporary replacement should Roden be sent to Avenia.

The pieces were in place. Jaron could play this figurative chess game and win.

He was juggling what would happen if Avenia wouldn’t accept his help and what he would have to do to protect his own people.

Would it really be worth it to keep a Carthyan influence in Avenia if it only forced Avenians even further away from good relations?

Decisions, decisions, decisions.

To many outcomes, not enough stable variables.

Think, think, think.

What could he do if Avenian relations soured?

Bymar would come to help, Jaron was certain of it. Mendenwal would likely come as well, and maybe even Gelyn, though the latter would likely have ill intentions. He could always completely withdraw Carthyan aid as a last resort.

A very last resort.

Why, oh why couldn’t Thomas Row be there, knocking at the door?

Jaron rubbed his watering eyes, and returned to his desk. One letter down, countless others to go. He inched his chair backwards, inched his chair forwards, and wished he had a chair that spun in a circle.

Saints, it wasn't even noon and he was already bored.

He’d managed to read through ten letters when somebody finally came to check in on him.

“Mott!” Jaron stood up, this time successfully knocking over his chair. “Thank the Saints, I wanted to ask you if-”

“No, I will not let you use a shield as a sled and ride down the grand staircase,” Mott’s brows lowered into a solid line.

Jaron broke into a wicked grin, “Good idea, but that’s not what I was going to ask. You read Kippenger’s letter, no?”

“Haven’t had much to do but read since the attack.”

“Do you have any- oh.”

During the Avenian war, Mott had received a wound that would’ve killed him if not for Tobias’s skill as a doctor. The wound prevented Mott from fighting his way through a battle.

The wicked grin Jaron sported faded into a deep frown. He wanted to be a good king, a just man who sought out justice rather than revenge.

It was a well kept secret that Mott’s ghost wound flared up. A well kept secret that the fight with the Faola who attacked Feall was responsible for the ghost pains.

But Jaron knew, he knew about Mott’s pain.

And if it weren’t for Imogen and Tobias, he would’ve taught the Faola a lesson they’d never forget.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” muttered Jaron, tossing through the emotions pulsing through his veins.

Anger, grief. Anger, grief. Anger, grief, and frustration.

Did nobody care how hard he was trying? Was that why there was still crime plaguing the streets of Drylliad?

“Not exactly, but I do appreciate the sentiment,” Mott shifted on his feet. “I did read Kippenger’s letter, and I dispatched a series of spies to try to locate his representative.”

“Did you find anything out?”

“As a matter of fact, I did, although the information came from someone who’s not one of ours.”

Oh?

Jaron motioned for Mott to continue, “Is it reliable information?”

“From a friend’s perspective, yes. However, from a ruler’s perspective there’s a series of holes in the story,” explained Mott. “My informant, ah, has a history of lute playing, colorful clothing, and pursuing every vice he can.”

“Please don’t tell me-”

“Jolly is my informant.”

He didn’t mean to snicker. He didn’t mean for that snicker to turn into a fit of laughter. Jaron coughed into his fist, trying his best to mask his grinning, “Jolly is your informant? The man who sings about floral crowns and otherworldly romances?”

Mott was all too serious as he nodded. “Considering that he not only found Thomas Row in Avenia, he also managed to bring him here, I’d give him a bit more credit.”

“Lord Thomas Row is here!? When did he arrive!? Why wasn’t I informed!?”

“He requested to stay at an inn rather than in the castle, said he wanted to be with the army that accompanied him.”

“By the toes of every Saint, I have to meet with him,” Jaron bolted to the door, froze as his hand hovered above the handle, and turned back to face Mott. “Would you like to come with me?”

“Perhaps,” Mott said. “I have several things that require my attention, but I don’t suppose you’d be opposed to helping me with my duties.”

More chores?