#T'is in your will to save or kill

[thinkingimages]

Silver Posy Heart Pendant, circa 1680

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

This meme, but its Soap and: "Johnny, where the fuck is my eyeshadow palette??" "Sorry-y-y-y, Christine! I was out of a war paint! I'll buy you another one, I promise!" And then he really buys another one, a completely another one, with the colors, Riot never used before, even on these rare occasions, when she used a tiny bit of shadows. But that actually helped her discover a few new options of a makeup, that look fantastic on her.

''JOHN IAN MACTAVISH''

It was in that moment when Soap knew he had fucked up.

His sister Isla tried to muffle a laugh when she saw the absolute terror in his baby blue eyes, already knowing what was about to go down. Her little brother had spent the last fifteen minutes trying to get her to help him save his hide, and the last five groaning at her laughter.

''Isla, please, PLEASE, she's gonna kill meh''

''Should'ave thought that better then, Bràthair (brother)'' Isla chuckled when he pouted, more worried about choosing her outfit for her date than helping. ''Why did'yae think t'was a good idea to use her eyeshadow for yer wee painting is beyond meh''

''Ah dinnae think it through, ah just needed silver pigments!'' Soap dove behind her bed to hide when they could hear Riot's steps coming down the stairs from the second floor. She knocked on the threshold once, shaking with anger, her blue eyes fuming.

''Where the FUCK is your useless brother?''

''Are ye gonna kill him?'' Isla turned in her stool with a big smile, seeing from the corner of her eye how Johnny was gesticulating wildly at her from the floor.

''YES''

''In that case, ah think ah saw him running to the barn''

''Thank you'' Christine turned in her heels to prowl down the stairs to the ground floor. When her steps died in the distance, Johnny raised his head over Isla's bed.

''Yer my saviour, sis''

''Ye better fix it, ye know. Tha'was her only palette'' Isla felt a bit of pity when she saw the crestfallen look on her brother's face. Everyone knew that Christine rarely bought things for herself, and the things she did buy lasted forever because she was very careful. Also, she rarely bothered with eyeshadow. ''Aww, dinnae look at meh like that, ye eejit. Listen, yer gonna do this...''

*

''Please, pleeeease, pretty please with a cherry on top''

Christine rolled her eyes, trying hard to keep her frown when Johnny kept grovelling and apologizing, kneeling in front of her while she was sitting on the bed at the guest room (her room, as Mam insisted over and over again, but she resisted to believe).

''Just... stop it, Johnny. It's alright. It's just stupid makeup''

''Aye, it is... NO, NO IT ISN'T'' Johnny corrected himself immediately, seeing Isla's face peeking from the hallway, glaring at him. ''Ah mean, aye but nah. T'was yers and Ah ruined it, so it's only fair Ah make it up to yeh. Heeheh make up, got it?''

From the hallway, Isla facepalmed so hard that for a moment she was afraid Christine would hear, but she seemed just as dumbfounded, sighing.

''What have you done now, Johnny?

''Bought ye some, see'' The excited Scot emptied a shopping bag on the bed, starting to show her what he had bought. ''Isla told meh ye needed a naked palette...''

''Nude''

'T'is not the same?''

Christine sighed deeply, examining the nude collection palette in her hands. She couldn't deny some of the colours looked pretty, but she wasn't sure.

''Johnny, I don't think...''

''Wait, wait, Ah have more''

''What?''

He dropped palette after palette on her hands. A small one with bronze tones. Another one with a saturated, pearlescent deep purple. Another with rose-copper and russet-brown shades that he explained would combine well with her blue-gray eyes. And another single one with a vibrant peach.

''Ah dinnae keen what else to bring ye but... are ye crying?''

Christine shook her head slowly, still looking at the eyeshadow palettes, not knowing what to do. It was too much just for a silly thing like makeup. Johnny sat down beside her and grabbed her hands.

''Ah should nae touched yer things... here let me paint ye''

''Paint? What? I'm not a canvas, don't you... Johnny!''

Isla laughed under her breath, shutting the door when the bickering started again. Everything was right again in the MacTavish household.

[luckynightdinosaur]

Predvember Day 2

Prompt: Kin

Word Count: 1k

Summary: An Elder reflects on a newer clan member.

Pairing: None

Tags: (mentioned) child abuse, rescue, training, teasing

Warnings: None

"One, two. Again. Block. Turn at the waist, strike. Good, again." 

Leaning against the doorway of the kehrite, Nakande watches quietly as the group of younglings practice various katas with their combi-sticks , their movements fluid and controlled under the watchful eye of their teacher, G'ka-kui.

Fluid and controlled for the most part, anyway. One of the youngsters catches the Elder's attention, the unblooded cursing loudly as he first trips over his own spear, then manages to smack himself in the head with it, somehow. 

His peers break into hysteric laughter as he crashes heavily to the floor. 

"Nice one." Go'stuib snarks, shaking his head, his mandibles curved into a smirk.

"Wow, how incredibly skilled you are - not!" His sister  Ha'ja-di  adds, chittering. 

"What an idiot." Ma'kep, the third triplet, chimes in, leaning against Ha'ja-di in his mirth. 

"Are you oka-" T'i-ti, one of the quieter students, begins to ask, but is cut off. 

"That's enough," G'ka-kui barks sharply, the elite casting a dark look over his students. "Be quiet and resume your katas." 

Despite their teacher's instruction to quiet down and continue their training, the younglings instead scatter from their positions when their fellow unblooded leaps to his feet with a roar. 

Nakande sighs as the youngling postures threateningly in challenge, even as embarrassment radiates from him.

Tachande. 

He is one of the newest members of the Lar'ja Kjuhte Clan, Nakande having found the younger yautja on a space station in the Andromeda Galaxy.

The clan had only stopped to refuel and buy more supplies. One of the hounds got free, however, prompting its owner, a young blooded warrior named Rka'thwei, to go after it. 

Shortly after this, Nakande received a video from Rka'thwei, which showed him something he never expected. 

A young yautja, locked in a pen like an animal. That yautja was Tachande. He had been being used for prey creature's entertainment, forced to fight others in a cage while the crowd cheered for blood. 

It was a degrading position for one of his own kind to find themselves in, the yautja long having thrown off the shackles of a life of fighting for others' entertainment, breaking free of their previous oppressors, known as the amengi. 

No yautja should be made to debase themselves in such a manner, and the fact that Tachande had been forced to do so was something Nakande had taken very personally. 

That he is so young makes it much worse. Tachande was only a preteen when Nakande and his clan had found him- while yautja are trained to fight from a young age, no child should have been made to endure what he had. 

Naturally, the Elder had decided that the youngling wouldn't be experiencing such things ever again, and had killed those who had captured him, making the choice to Tachande in as his own. 

How he ended up in the hands of a lesser species is anyone's guess.  

Nakande would like to believe that Tachande's situation was a mistake, or some kind of accident - but, considering how protective yautja females are of their young, and how secretive his species are as a whole, he is more inclined to think that Tachande's case is one of abandonment. 

Nakande suspects that he is from one of the western clans- those that make their homes near the inactive volcanoes of Prime. 

With black hide mottled with dark grey, he appears to be normal looking enough for a Yautja of a volcanic clan. 

Save for the fact that his eyes are a pinkish-red, an unusual color, and both his face and tresses are blotched with white- an indicator of sickness in one so young.

However, one of the humans in the clan, a healer named Marissa, suggested that Tachande simply has a condition called 'vitiligo'. 

Considering his age, it can only be assumed that he was born with it, or it developed when he was very young. 

Hen'dcho, the clan's healer, confirmed that Tachande's condition isn't detrimental to his overall health, being primarily cosmetic- although, the longer he's lived with them, there are mild symptoms he has displayed. 

His eyes are more sensitive to bright light, and the lighter patches of his hide have proven to be more sensitive to the sun. Those are the only two he's shown, neither of which are enough to affect him significantly. 

There is another yautja aboard who is similar, an albino by the name of Porvende, so they know how to work around what troubles he does experience. 

The biggest problem encountered with Tachande is his temper. It has been three cycles, and he's just about as difficult to handle as the day he boarded the ship.

Of course, he has improved since then- before, he was prone to outbursts daily and was always starting fights for no reason, actions that had him seeing his fair share of beatings at the hands of his teacher and a few others. They are less frequent, nowadays- a testament to how much he has changed. 

Despite his improvement, Tachande is still extremely aggressive, even for a hot-blooded teenager. Not having kindness shown to him for the majority of his life has caused him to become antisocial at best and outright hostile at worst. 

However, with more time, training, and…love, as the humans aboard put it, Tachande will only continue to improve. 

Hopefully.

"Resume your katas," G'ka-kui repeats, staring down Tachande. 

After a moment, the unblooded submits without a word, even as his tresses stand on end and his mandibles flare. He snatches up his combi-stick, and the lesson continues, a fight successfully averted. 

Nakande hums to himself, casting his gaze over the unblooded as he steps back into the hall, catching G'ka-kui's eye for a split second before he turns away.

In time, Nakande hopes that Tachande will come to see his fellow unblooded as kin. Because although he is not related by blood like most of them are, he is just as much a part of this clan as anyone else.

And he deserves to feel that way.

[tiqalicious]

Interview with Jack McCallum - Officer A. Hayes presiding.

JM: "I don't understand why I'm still being held here."

AH: "We still have a lot of questions Jack, we're just trying to make things a little more clear."

JM: "I didn't do it."

AH: "We know that Jack, but if you'll just take some time to describe it again for us, it could really help us out."

JM: "I've already told the lot of ye, he was dead when I found him."

AH: "On your farm, you said?"

JM: "Aye. T'was my neighbour's boy, little Rory. She brought him over once when he was nuttin but a wean, and you should have seen the smile on his face. His mam said t'was the first smile he ever cracked and I think it gave me a soft spot for em, cause by the time he hit ten, I'd let him come over every single day, carrying his little jotter and scribblin away like a mad thing at everything he saw."

AH: "He came over every day?"

JM: "Oh aye. Shannon didn't have a lot of money to throw around, see? So I was always fixing him lunches and letting him hang around. He was a good wee lad, spent all day out and about, and never really got into trouble save for falling in the water. I saw him running to the house once like he was feart for his life, chased away by a pine marten, convinced the thing was goin ta kill em. Best craic I've ever seen, that. Laughed till I was in tears."

Officers notes: Jack went quiet for a few moments here, only staring at the table. He hasn't looked me in the eyes since we started speaking, but I find it hard to believe he's hiding anything from me. He really looks as if he lost one of his own.

AH: "I'm not really s'posed to do this now, but you look like you could use a fag. Have one of mine."

JM: "Appreciate it. I uh… I told him not to go over to that grove, you know."

AH: "The trees where you found him?"

JM: "Aye. I'll tell ye now, there's always been sumtin quare hanging around that spot over the bridge. The animals avoided it like the fuckin plague. The dogs would get their hackles up any time ye went too close, the sheep would run away from it like the devil himself was at their heels, and the horses, well they wouldn't even take a single step upon that bridge. Me nan told me once when I was wee that horses know sumtin we don't. She said their eyes are open to the entire world afore them, and the rest of us are all just sleepwalking through it. I've learned to never doubt the judgement of me horses, but… I should have just took a hammer to that fuckin bridge. T'is my fault he's gone."

AH: "We'll find whoever did this."

JM: "No ye fuckin won't."

AH: "I promise ye now Ja-"

Officers notes: Jack became enraged at this moment, and it took a while to calm him down, but I was able to de-escalate without any need for restraint.

JM: "Ye still don't fuckin get it, do ye?. It don't want to be bloody found! There's something foul in there that should have been left alone, and I was too fuckin stupid to make sure it stayed that way! It took his fuckin eyes, Aidan! It plucked them right from his skull and left him out there to die an he was probably too busy chasing after a fuckin butterfly, to even see it coming! I DID THIS! I COULD HAVE STOPPED IT AND NOW HE'S FUCKIN GONE!"

AH: "Jackie…"

JM: "Don't you give me another fuckin word. Ye can't make this better and ye won't find who did it, so just fuckin don't. You lot aren't equipped to deal with any of this sort of thing."

AH: "Ye don't have to worry about that now, Jack. We've already brought in some specialists."

JM: "What?"

AH: "Some big important crew brought all the way over from London. They're at yer place now, lookin over the grove. They're the ones who asked me to talk to ye again."

JM: "It don't fucking matter, because THEY WON'T BELIEVE ME!"

AH: "I wouldn't be so sure of that, Jack."

JM: "What are ye on about?"

AH: "Never mind. Shouldn't have said anything. I'll be round yer way tonight to check in on Shannon. I'll come see ye after, eh?"

JM: "I don't ne-"

AH: "I said I'll come see ye after, make sure yer doing okay, right?"

JM: "Ah…. right then."

AH: "Okay, well I think we've got everything we need here, so yer free to go. Just keep away from the grove while that lot do there work, eh?"

JM: "Fine."

Initial autopsy report performed by H. Duffy, Coroner: Deceased male, 12. Eyes and tongue removed despite no signs of struggle. No entry wounds on body, yet subject is missing all major organs. Three ribs completely missing with no medical history of removal. Baffling absence of blood on scene or signs of trauma, perhaps sign of as yet untraceable chemical agent? No clear answers. Body sent to London for further investigation.

"So…. Thoughts?"

"Sounds like a rushed job."

"Indeed. I would wager that someone was interrupted."

"Aye. Farmer probably went looking and got too close to the scene. That child was supposed to disappear."

"So why not simply take the farmer as well?"

"Too much attention. Probably an entry point."

"Quite likely one of hundreds, honestly"

"The specialists…"

"Hunters, my dear boy. If nothing else, at least this little misstep is an opportunity to confirm some suspicions. Someone high up the ladder is running a branch out of london."

"I'll make sure our lot know to avoid the area for a few weeks."

"I'm afraid that's not entirely possible, quite yet. You heard the recording. The officer suspects something. The farmer knows, as those infuriating salt of the earth types so often do, but the officer… we need to tamp this down. Take these press certifications and see to it that the both of them receive a little guidance. Nothing grizzly, just send someone to make them think a little… differently. No need to stoke the flames any further."

"Of course, Cinnidh."

[the-toppat-king]

Chapter Eight: Brothers at Heart

Sven groaned a bit as he woke up.

For a moment the Swed lay on the stiff bed of the med bay, staring at the ceiling. A dull pain spread through his back, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been the past few days. Sighing, Sven rubbed his eyes and slowly sat up. Thomas sat nearby, reading, and Sven felt a familiar relief at seeing him.

Since they were caught he'd been having nightmares. The first night he had dreamt that they hadn't been captured, but rather killed in front of him. He had screamed when he woke up, but thankfully hadn't had that one again since the two escaped while he had been unconscious. The new nightmare was that their escape was only a dream. He'd wake up in the nightmare and they'd be gone again.

"A', you're awake."

Sven glanced up, smiling as he saw Right in the doorway.

"Hey, Right. How's Henry doing?"

"You two are so predictable, 'Enry asks the same question every time 'e sees Reg and I." Right laughed a bit. "'E's adjusting. Not easy 'aving a new spine, I suppose, but he's toug'ing it out. Pretty sure the doc might be keepin' 'im 'ig' on pain killers whenever s'e's not working on 'im."

"How's Reginald handling it?" He frowned. "He's not overworking himself, is he?" Sven couldn't imagine how hard it had to be for Reginald. He loses one son and almost loses the other in one day, immediately gets the first son back and then loses him again. Sven hadn't been there, but he'd heard that Reginald had seen Henry die. Even if it was only temporary, it couldn't have been easy. Hell, it was hard for him to even hear about.

"No, 'Enry gave 'im an order to take it easy and consider 'is limits. It ain't easy on eit'er of us, but we'll manage." Right walked over, sitting down by him. "But 'ow are you doing, Sven? I know you've been 'aving nig'tmares."

"Thomas told you?" Sven rubbed his arm, shooting Thomas a glare.

"I've done nothing of the sort! Reginald checks on you occasionally." He didn't even look up from his book, licking his thumb to turn the page. "It's not my place to tell anyone if you don't want to talk about it.

"T'omas is telling the truth." Right frowned. "And Burt c'ecks the cameras when 'e gets up in t'e morning. 'E's seen you wake up screaming."

Goddammit Burt.

"Yeah, I..." Sven sighed, looking at his feet. "...it's nothing. There's just...a lot of guilt."

"W'y?"

"If it wasn't for me getting hurt, Henry wouldn't have been captured and he wouldn't be injured. He shouldn't have stopped for me."

"Sven."

The blonde looked up at Right as he took his hand.

"W'at 'appened was not your fault." He told him sternly. "I told Reginald this and I'll tell you the same t'ing, Dmitri s'ot you, Dmitri s'ot 'Enry, Dmirti is w'y t'is all 'appened. And Dmitri is not getting away wit' t'is. I know w'at I'm saying won't stick at first, and I know it won't stop the guilt. It won't stop the nig'tmares or make you feel better yet. But for now I need ya to know t'at you couldn't 'ave prevented this. Someone would 'ave been caug't no matter w'at. Dmitri would not 'ave been satisfied wit' just you. I mean, t'ere was a fuckin' riot, and t'e man focused on 'Enry, C'arles, Ellie and T'omas just because t'ey started it and ruined 'is reputation."

"I know..."

"So don't blame yourself." Right sighed. "I know it ain't gonna be easy, Sven. I never said it was, but you gotta fig't off t'ose t'oug'ts t'at it was your fault, because it wasn't."

The blonde sighed, nodding. "Alright, Pa." He paused a moment, taking a breath. "Do you think I could see Hen?"

"If you can prevent Reg from bein' a mot'er 'en for an 'our or two." Right grinned. "It's no good for you to stay in the med bay all day."

Sven smiled...

"Although you get to ask Dr. Vinsc'pinsilstien."

...and immediately deflated. He didn't know much about the woman, only that she was a former Toppat Clan member and she had a grudge. He knew she was a member around the time Terrence was leader, and while he only met her a handful of times(typically when he got dragged into Henry's mischief), she had always intimidated him a bit. But he understood asking her himself, he was an adult, after all.

Also she might be a tad bit angry if I just show up. Sven thought with a wince. We're lucky that she even agreed to save Henry in the first place, we should not antagonize her.

"That's fair, I suppose." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Thank you for letting me see him, Dr. Vinschpinsilstien."

"Mhm. I have a feeling it would have ended in a fight if I said no."

"Why is that?"

"Just a hunch." She muttered. "Toppats are stubborn people who don't usually take no for an answer."

"Dr. Vinschpinsilstien." Sven paused. "We are not in any kind of place to make demands of you or make you angry. We're lucky you even decided to stabilize Henry, let alone perform the surgery to save him."

"Eh, I can't complain much. He's not bad company, and he's quite bright."

"...are we talking about the same Henry Stickmin? The man climbs in vents."

Dr. Vinschpinsilstien laughed a bit. "Never outgrew that?"

"Well his first week of leader I caught him stuck in the vent above his desk. I still have no clue how he got up there or why."

"Eh, he's a small man. Probably just likes small spaces."

With that, she opened the door.

Sven stood silently a moment.

Henry was talking quietly with Charles, but what really caught his attention was the lack of a shirt and the fresh scars the marked his pale skin. His left side, around his shoulder area, was scarred horribly and the entire arm, shoulder included, was gone. The new arm itself was detached, laying on Henry's lap while he worked on it. There was a piece of metal with a part to connect the arm to on where the shoulder once would have been. His chest was scarred horribly as well. One long scar went down his chest, where Sven assumed his heart had been removed. A light glowed brightly on the center of his chest, fading and brightening with the rhythm of a heartbeat.

Scars also crossed his face, one going from the bottom right half of his face up near the top corner of his left eye and a couple down the left side of his face. His left eye was dull, pupil cloudy. Blind.

Sven didn't think he wanted to see his back.

Suddenly Henry looked up, noticing his adoptive brother standing there. A grin spread across his face and he set his arm aside, practically jumping up. "Sven-"

-and immediately Henry was falling forward.

The blonde just barely managed to dart forward in time to catch him. "Henry!"

"Eh, sorry, this is going to take some times to get used to." He laughed a bit as Sven shifted to prop him up. "Doc says it'll take some time before I can-"

"Before you can even stand!" She finished. "And not just time, physical therapy! You're not going to recover if you're so reckless!"

"Sorry, Doc." He replied, voice a bit quieter. Sven blinked at him, something hitting him.

He's talking to them.

"Эти проклятые Топпаты." Dr. Vinschpinsilstien muttered, leaving. "Они собираются убить меня!"

"You're talking." Sven looked at Henry. "Since when?"

Henry glanced at Charles with a goofy grin. "What can I say? For a government pilot, he's not that bad. Ellie's pretty cool, too, and the doctor is good company when she's not annoyed."

"Hey, uh." Charles suddenly stood, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sven, right? I...I'm sorry. If I hadn't run into you guys, you wouldn't have been hurt and Henry wouldn't have gotten caught."

Sven stared blankly at him. He...apologized? For what?

"If it wasn't for me getting hurt, Henry wouldn't have been captured and he wouldn't be injured. He shouldn't have stopped for me."

Oh.

For some reason it hadn't occurred to him that anyone else involved would be feeling some kind of guilt. How could that not occur to him? Thomas and Reginald saw him fall, Ellie was the person just before him on the ladder, Geoffery left him and Charles was the one to ask for help.

Do I even blame him? Sven loathed the government, of course. He didn't think there was a Toppat who didn't.(Except maybe Henry, but Henry was always a bit of an odd ball.) But could he really blame Charles for doing his job?

Both of them were there at the wrong time.

"It isn't your fault." Sven avoided his eyes as he helped Henry back to the bed. "Trust me, I get it, and I get that it isn't going to be easy. But just remember that this is all Dmitri's fault. You got involved because of the way he runs the wall, right? If he weren't a goddamn dictator, you wouldn't be involved."

Charles blinked a couple times, then smiled. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Besides, I need to focus on taking them down!"

Optimist, much?

"We need to focus on taking them down." Henry corrected. "The government's agreed to get off our back for a while if we help."

"What? A-are you serious?" Sven straightened up, and Charles rubbed the back of his neck.

"I mean...we can't actually prove you've done anything illegal yet? As a group, I mean. We can try to take down your leaders, but as a whole we can't touch the Clan itself." He admitted. "It's why we sent Henry on board, to either capture Reginald or the Right Hand Man or find evidence that would let us make an arrest. But, uh, that backfired."

"It almost didn't." Sven admitted. "I wasn't there, but from what I've heard, Henry was very close to handing Reginald over. He only decided against it because leadership of the Toppat Clan was better in the long run."

Henry nodded. "...although, that might not be an option anymore."

"...what?"

"Dr. V thinks it might be best if I step down." Henry admitted. "...and I don't think she's wrong. My heart and arm, fine, I can deal with that and it won't slow me down. But my spine had to be completely replaced, along with my ribs. My spine is actually exposed, all it takes is one gunshot for the cybernetics keeping me alive to start failing. One mission gone wrong, or one rouge Toppat who gets unhappy with my leadership..."

"...and it'd be easy to take you out." Sven finished quietly. "But...if you don't come back, what will you do? Do you have anywhere to go?"

"Dr. Vinschpinsilstien offered me a job here if I want it. Look, I won't abandon you guys right now, I won't make any concrete decisions until..." Henry glanced at Charles. "Well, you know."

Until the rocket launches. Sven guessed. "...I don't want to lose you again."

"...I know. I don't want to say goodbye, either. But...you guys will always be family, don't get me wrong, but I just...I don't think my place is with the Clan anymore. I...I don't think it has been for a long time."

Sven sighed, sitting on the end of the bed as Henry returned to tinkering with the arm. His heart sank a bit, but he knew Henry was right.

It wasn't safe for him to come back permanently. Henry had been a Toppat once, but he wasn't anymore and Sven knew that. He reasoned that it wasn't like they couldn't call, and they would have to come back to Earth for raids. They could see each other every once in a while.

"Y'know." Charles spoke up. "Uh, we do fund Dr. Vinschpinsilstien."

Sven looked at him, confused.

"Her research, I mean. And in exchange we get to be some of the first people to test out her cybernetics. So, uh, if Henry actually did want to work with her, we might be able to get him a pardon under the reasoning that he works with us. I mean, she...doesn't really work for or with us, but who cares about technicalities?"

"...you'd do that?"

"Of course! Henry's my friend! Also we do owe him for the whole kidnapping thing." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I, uh, don't know why the General thought that was a good idea."

"Ellie gets pardoned first." Henry reminded him.

"Sure. We have...no idea what she was in there for, actually." Charles admitted. "She was a thief, sure, but it was nothing that notable."

"It doesn't matter to Dmitri." Henry muttered. "It wouldn't surprise me if he just kidnapped her without thinking and it just so happened she had a criminal record. But it's not our place to ask unless she wants to tell us."

"I hope she's willing to open up to us." Charles added. "We'll be a real Triple Threat for the Wall!"

"...why did you say it like that?"

"Charles likes to be dramatic."

"I do not-"

"You crashed a helicopter into the airship."

"I- Okay, you got me there."

Sven smiled.

At least if Henry stayed while the Clan left, he wouldn't be left alone.

And while the grief was still there, it didn't seem as bad now.

__________________________________

Translations Эти проклятые Топпаты - These damn Toppats Они собираются убить меня - They're going to be the death of me

[jackloveselizabeth]

Back to the origin

It was getting dark outside. Heavy Clouds and strong winds Caching up giving Gibbs a hard time taming the Pearl and leading her through that ominous fog all around her. Jack was busy making underhanded plans how to trick Arabella into suiting for his means. To trick her into turning to that Person she used to be. The Girl he saved from her grim fathers Hands. The friend he had lost along the way. Meanwhile Elizabeth was nervously Walking up and down. “Oh. This is bad. This is really bad.” She spat through heavy breaths she still managed to draw. Jack ignored her watching his Charts. As if he would find an answer anywhere between those circles and lines that created the seas and land spits of the Caribbean. “Bell and Will. This bunch of hellishly beastly miscreatures on the seven seas. I once called me Friends. Hell Bell was so much more...um important part of Young Jacks life”, Jack muttered the last bit when he feared that was going in the complete wrong direction. Once again. He bit his lips.”What?” Elizabeth hissed. “What?” Jack aped. “What did you just say?”, “Nothing, love! Just thinking loudly.” Jack said sharing his most dashing smile with her.

“Thinking out loudly, Jack?! Oh that you call raving About Bell this time!” Elizabeth snapped at him Feeling the urge of yelling at him grow ever more in her infuriated cells invading the others. Jack wiped down his chin with his Right Hand gradually Feeling uncomfortable next to Elizabeth. “No I’d never do this to our soon daughter in law. Besides she must be protected, Lizzie!” Jack said tergiversating her wrath. Jack smiled cheekily at her. “Oh I think Jackie takes care of that quiet well!”, “Right you are, love!” Jack exclaimed joyfully trying to draw Elizabeths Attention away. Far away from him. “Oh stop it, Jack! I know you just want to be with Bell again! That’s turning tables for you! You just want to be with her again!” Elizabeth lost it frowning at Jack. But it hit him hard having to hear that. And he felt bad Feeling a heavy twinch in his heart. Thinking Maybe she was Right but he could never admid that as that would cause a huge fight again. And he needed her to be on his side. Not be his enemy. Jack felt bad already as he looked at her Feeling his heart saddening.

“I don’t know, Lizzie...” Jack started but his voice broke making Elizabeth’s heart skipping a beat. She didn’t know how to breath Right then. As she felt her heart stopping for  a while when it hurt so much just to hear that. She averted her gaze as it hurt so much knowing the reason why Jack couldn’t go on. Not if he still cared at least one bit for her. But Jack did care. “I must lie if I told you I didn’t care...for Bell.” It was like a stab in her heart and Right now her knees didn’t feel weak they felt so heavy Elizabeth just let go and fell on the Floor. Shaking on her entire Body. “What...what’s that supposed to mean?” Elizabeth said while tearing up inside. “Don’t you love me anymore?” She said as first Tears left the Corners of her eyes. But Jack did care . He just cared so much and Teared up inside as he had to watch her like that. He did love her. “No, love. I...I...” Jack started but he had to stop as he teard up badly now when he looked at her deeply in the eyes. “I love you , Lizzie! I love you so much, darlin..Come here!” Jack said and sat down next to her Holding her tight. They were crying together and cramping on eachother just so tight. “I’m sorry love. I didn’t want to hurt you.”, “I know. I love you so much Jack!” Elizabeth sobbed. “Oh love, come here. It’s okay. I’m here.” Jack said his heart saddening. “Do you still love Bell?”, “No, Lizzie. I don’t. Just have you forgotten what it used to be?” Jack asked missing their Friends. “You mean are old Friends, that want to kill us now adays?” and as Elizabeth said that Jack burst in laughter.”Oh Lizzie I love you so much! How could you think I didn’t love you anymore?” Jack asked embracing her tight. “I love you all along and I’ll Always love you, love.”, “I love you too Jack!” Elizabeth embraced him tight being overhappily again. “We must turn the tides as it seems to me though and I just know how to achieve that. In order to get our Friends back.”

“Tia Dalma?”, “Aye, lets set sail for the wicked lass.” Jack said thinking the winds would catch up for him for a fortune voyage over to his old friend Tia Dalma. Elizabeth glanced over to him. He did embrace her somehow tight but she didn’t feel comfortable anymore next to Jack. She didn’t know him anymore. She couldn’t recognize him anymore but she knew she had to get away from him as quickly as she could. “I’m gonna get something to drink, do you want something Jack?”, “I’m good, thanks, lassie.”, “Alright then.” Elizabeth said and literally run out of Jacks cabin. She would Sleep under deck Tonight but then at least she wouldn’t have to be close to Jack.

“What was that? What have I done?”, Jack run his fingers exasperated over his bandana. “What the blazes has gotten into me? How could I say that? Falling for Bell? Wanting her back?! In Poseidon’s Name where’s that coming from! In the Pearls Name I don’t! I just don’t love Bell! That’s ages ago!!! Oh Lizzie, I love you so much, darlin!! I...I can’t believe I said this to you”, Jack yelled frustrated against his cabins walls. Just when a Cold wind ran down in spine and he could have sworn he felt a Cold wind just blowing behind him. “Witty Jack be warned…” Jack whirled around catching eyes with another old friend. “Tia Dalma, you wicket wench...lassie you look outragous.” Jack said as if through his  15 year old self. Now that feels odd, Jack thought. The blazes whats happing to me, he thought exasperated. Oh Lizzie...

Don’t be afraid, witty Jack Tia Dalma said inside his head. Love whats happen-...Lassie what brings you here”, Jacks sentences changed as if his teenage self wanted to interfere. Do not speak out loud ye thoughts Jack if you want to help yeself. Tia Dalma hissed through his head starting to really unsettle Jack. Tia Dalma,love, what’s Happening to me? Jack thought but didn’t say it. A Curse send from Arabella Teach. Ye being suppressed by yerself as 15-year old stowaway. Do you remember, Jack... Jack petrified as he heard that and was Looking at himself in aghast. Me 15 year old scrabrous Version tries to manipulate me? T’is be only the beginning. But Arabella got cursed to...You must not lose dim Jack!! But what can I do...how can I get meself back? With tis gem it will lead you...Whereto? You will see...Just one ting witty Jack: Listen to your heart beatin’ couse’ no Course in your so beloved Caribbean can Change T'is Course...have faith witty Jack...Listen to your heart! Tia Dalma said and then it got mute. 

Jack looked around and went to the Mirror in his cabin Looking at himself and what he saw deeply disturbed him. He actually saw his past self - as the 15 year old stowaway.

“You okay, mate? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The Mirror spitting Image of Jack as a Teenager smirked at him. Jack didn’t believe himself anymore. “You...you...how is that possible?”, “What? This? This is you, mate! You seem to have forgotten who you were, Jack!” Jacks younger Version looked at him in mischief. “Oh I know quite well, who I was, mate! But what I don’t know is what all this haunting me with my teenage days is all About? Is this About dear Bell?” Jack asked in aghast and Kind of loathing. “Oh sweet Bell. Yep, she is important to us. She is the fiercest lass in the seven seas. If we get rid of dear Fitzy she can finally be ours.”, “You mean she’ll be yours, then. I’m sorry lad, but I know a lass even fiercer than her and way lovelier.”, “Elizabeth Right? Or how you call her your oh-so-beloved Lizzie, aye?”, Young Jack grinned back at him most sinister. “What are you up to, Jack?” Jack glared at him. “Take back what was bound to be yours, Captain Sparrow.”, “We’ll see. “, “Oh yes, we will. Watch out for your bonnie lass. She might again be a damsel in distress sooner or later, savvy?”, “Now listen carefully there, I will find a way to get rid of you and I will cut you off me. Trust me.” Jack threathened his sooner Version. “As may be, mate. But you’re already loosing Elizabeth. It’s only a Question of time until she’ll be the governors daughter again.”

Jack knew he had to find a way to talk to Elizabeth. “Oh Lizzie please remember me.”

[thewardensjournal]

The Warden is laughing at her, and Morrigan stands, arms crossed and waiting impatiently for her to stop. Melisende wipes tears from the corners of her eyes and looks at Morrigan, still grinning with her mirth.

“Thanks, Morrigan, I really needed that,” she says earnestly. “Were you waiting here just to tell me a joke, though?”

“T’was not in jest,” Morrigan says through gritted teeth.

Melisende stares at her, grin morphing into a tight-lipped look of disapproval. “I know you and Alistair don't get on, but this is a bit much just to get one over on him. He might die tomorrow, it's not in good taste.”

“I told you,” Morrigan snaps, throwing her hands up and turning away from Melisende. “This way, neither of you have to die.”

“I'm not going to make Alistair fuck you so that you can take up a pet project of raising an Old God,” Melisende says firmly, striding towards the bed and ridding herself of her leather armour.

Morrigan turns back to glare at her, but the effect is lost as Melisende isn't looking at her. “Finally found some morals, did you?” She asks, tone cold. “Did the old woman force them on you? Or, if you're truly insistent on protecting Alistair after what he said to you, Loghain would also be serviceable.” She can see Melisende’s face reflected in a polished shield above the bed, her expression locked in a scowl, like it always is when someone questions her for too long.

“I told you: no. I won't force that on Alistair, he doesn't need that kind of baggage when he's about to become king. And you can't use Loghain either.” Now, Melisende does turn, jabbing a finger at Morrigan. “I'm a Grey Warden. My duty is to rid the world of Archdemons, not create more.”

“T'is not an Archdemon-"

“But it could become one,” Melisende interrupts.

Morrigan can't argue that, she crosses her arms again and resists the urge to stamp her foot at how unreasonable Melisende is being.

“Besides.” Melisende pulls a clean shirt over her head and glances over her shoulder at Morrigan, who makes a point of fixing her eyes anywhere else. “I have an idea for dealing with the Archdemon.”

Sometimes, it's easy to forget how sharp Melisende is, how she could control a court before she could wield her twin blades. Too late, Morrigan realises she's shown her cards too soon. She had wondered, briefly, at how Melisende remained silent as she made her case for her ritual, how she pushed only for information about the Archdemon, how Morrigan, like a fool, had revealed so much because she thought she had her.

You always assume you know best, foolish child. Flemeth’s voice gave the unwelcome reminder whilst Melisende watched her patiently.

“What is your plan?” Morrigan asks, sighing heavily, then holds up a hand as Melisende begins to answer. “Save your tongue.” She pushes past her to the door. “Pray to your precious Maker that yours does not kill all the people t'was meant to save.”

At that, Morrigan makes to leave, but Melisende moves fast and silent and catches her elbow. Their eyes lock, and Morrigan recalls the first time they met, the Warden recruit making reckless jokes about Witches of the Wilds, and their second meeting, Melisende struggling from unconsciousness, meeting Morrigan’s eyes to thank her with startling sincerity. She clears her throat and glances away, hoping to show a cold fury, but Melisende doesn't look away.

“I want you at my side tomorrow,” she says.

Morrigan doesn't- can't, reply, but she gives a stiff nod and Melisende smiles like she knew she'd get her way. She wonders, as she runs from Redcliffe, what Melisende made of the sound of claws on flagstones outside her door. Whether she thought Taranis had left Leliana's side to come find her, whether she thought it was a cat chasing mice. Morrigan wonders how long it took Melisende to realise they would never be sisters in arms again.

Melisende had spent the night with Leliana, and, though she wants to, Morrigan can't really fault her for it. But, there is a sight that surprises her. She passes by the door to their shared room, open as though they had also been ready to leave. Both are armoured, she sees, weapons at their sides, but they are arguing. Melisende pushes a familiar shield and longsword at Leliana, who refuses to take them.

Morrigan had thought Melisende had secreted her Cousland weapons, that she had clutched so desperately when waking in Flemeth's hut, with the Drydens at Soldier’s Peak. It seems she was mistaken.

With a choked sob, Leliana accepts the shield, places it carefully on the bed, and straps the sword to her back, despite how it must fit awkwardly next to her longbow.

Melisende steps forward and clasps her hands, whispering something Morrigan can't- won't hear.

She runs away, leaves for good.

It surprises her, at first, the group Melisende chooses to fight the Archdemon with her, when she hears the tale retold. She picks her court carefully. Loghain, Shale, and her hound, Taranis. She leaves Sten to lead the army holding the gates.

(It shouldn't surprise Morrigan that she took the dog with her, she insisted on bringing him to the Landsmeet, too.)

It is cruel of her, though. Shale is Melisende's favourite, it's clear to see. Shale rumbles something dry and bored and Melisende throws her head back and laughs until tears show in the corners of her eyes. Of course, Shale can't smile, but there is a fondness always in their voice for Melisende. It is cruel that she would make them watch.

Cruel, too, to leave Sten behind. Sten, who must understand duty better than any of them. Sten, who rivals maybe Morrigan herself in terms of being cold and standoffish and in sheer reluctance to be with the group. Sten, who Melisende tracked down a sword for in between rallying a nation, play-acting at not knowing the significance such weapons can hold.

Morrigan thinks again of the Cousland sword, glinting on Leliana's back, and wonders what Sten thought when he saw it. Wonders if he understood Melisende's plan.

It's cruel to leave him, when she made him care against his will.

As for Morrigan. She knows cruelty, was raised on it, but it steals her breath away that Melisende can be cruel uncompromisingly.

(She thinks of werewolves and elves in the Brecilian Forest and Melisende damning a group of suffering, hurting beings simply because she understood Zathrian's pain so well, and thinks perhaps she shouldn't be surprised. After all, she didn't care then.)

(But then, Melisende had turned and talked Zathrian into letting her kill him, too. Morrigan had wondered whether that was a Cousland form of justice, or Melisende's own special brand.)

Melisende can be cruel, but she is saving the world, and Morrigan can't be too angry.

She leaves the soft ones behind, the ones who feel too much so that it overwhelms them. The moral ones, the ones she brought with her in a quest for the Urn of Sacred Ashes, just to keep her from doing something radical.

Morrigan is still half surprised that the old woman isn't taken. Then again, their foolish Warden clearly doesn't believe she'll need a healer, because there was no way her plan could have fault. Besides, Morrigan always suspected that Melisende found Wynne's incessant advice more irritating than comforting.

“You are bringing your hound,” Sten says. From anyone else it would be a question, from him it is an inquiry if Melisende wishes it to be.

“Yes,” Melisende replies, spitting blood from her mouth, and from the look on her face she isn't sure if it's hers.

Zevran joins them, the wave of darkspawn finished for now. “That's very Fereldan of you,” he observes, grin quick.

“The bards can write it in as an afterthought,” Melisende says, grinning herself. “The Grey Warden slays the Archdemon whilst her faithful mabari chases its tail.”

“He is a fearsome warrior,” Sten disagrees, and Taranis barks and jumps up to lick his gauntleted hand.

“Then he'll make up for Loghain,” Melisende says, eliciting a snort from Shale, and the group glances to where Loghain stands to the side. “More importantly, we need to move now. The five of you stay here and hold the gates.”

And that's that. Melisende turns to the group and doesn't quite smile, but a smirk tugs on her lips. “Remember, the only reward we get for winning today is our lives.”

At least, that's how Morrigan imagines it might have gone.

According to the bards, the battle drags on, they remain standing, though on shaky legs. Then, like a thunder clap from a storm long overdue, Melisende acts.

The warning signs, like gathering storm clouds and enclosing humidity, are clear to Morrigan only after the fact. Shale hurls a particularly well-aimed boulder and catches the Archdemon in the eye. Its head swings around to glower at the golem, and when it does, distracted, Loghain plunges his sword into its foot. There's a whistle, and Taranis plows forward, scattering darkspawn and clearing a path.

She had been attacking from behind, letting Loghain and Shale and those who fought under her command take the blows whilst she waited for the smart moment to make a move. Morrigan imagines her leaping the Archdemon's tail as it thrashes erratically. Next moment, she's running up the Archdemon’s back, arms spread wide for balance.

The Archdemon lurches, trying to shake her off, but in the form of Melisende, lightning strikes.

Somehow, she kept her footing on the Archdemon. Her pace quickens to a sprint, she pushes off her back leg and launches herself in an arc towards the Archdemon’s head. Both blades raised, trailing blood in the smoky sky. She lands, uses her momentum to drive the blades into the eye sockets of the Archdemon.

The battle rages around them. No one stops, no one stares, whilst the world fights, the companions watch.

Melisende trembles, wobbles, atop the Archemon, hands still wrapped around her blades. The leviathan rears up, a howling, screeching, keening roar torn from its mouth. As the Archdemon shudders and collapses, the story goes that Melisende hopped neatly away, landing to face Loghain. An exchange of words that even the bards can't repeat, an expectation and agreement understood and Melisende steps back as Loghain snatches King Maric's sword and settles Maric's shield on his arm; both gifts from the Warden for reasons the bards can only speculate on.

The dust and debris that hangs in the air from the shockwave of the Archdemon’s fall is blinding. For all his bulk in his armour, Loghain looks like a shadow as he drags the sword through the Archdemon's throat, stabs up into its heart.

A blinding light, the bards say the Empress in Orlais and the magisters in Tevinter could see it. Amidst the shrieks of darkspawn and the cheers of armies, the shroud of light falls and reveals the bodies of the Archdemon and Loghain, battle done and day won.

At this part, the bards begin to celebrate the Hero of Ferelden's triumph, but Morrigan imagines what happened next.

Melisende would have gathered Loghain's arms, once Maric's, carrying them along with her own. Shale would have picked up his body with a nod from Melisende. Taranis would have bounced around his mistress, she, out of habit, would have checked him for scrapes and wounds and, satisfied, would have gestured for them to follow her. A cursory check on Eamon, Irving and Ardol, her other allies, and then the long trek back to the gates. Perhaps she caught sight of Teagan on the way, perhaps she searched for her brother out of some fractional hope still alive in her chest.

She would have been overjoyed to find her companions at the gates alive and well. Would have hugged Zevran, kissed Leliana. Wrapped an arm around Oghren, maybe grinned at Wynne. She and Sten would have nodded at each other from a slight distance, then she would have grinned and mocked a salute at him, at which point he would have turned his attention to Taranis.

But she would have asked after the King and Queen, still Alistair and Anora then. She would have had to make sure her plan had worked, that all pieces were in play and in their places. However furious Alistair was with her, however conniving Anora might seem, Morrigan thinks Melisende would have cared out of pragmatism if nothing else.

The bards love the next part, the listing of the Hero's achievements. The new King given to Orzammar, safety for the Dalish, a strong leader for Denerim's alienage, Andraste's ashes rediscovered, Grey Wardens restored and a King and Queen to herald a new era for Ferelden.

Morrigan thinks only of the girl she knew. Facing Flemeth and winning simply because Morrigan asked it of her. Winning a life for each of her companions because she was so determined to win the Blight that she forced them all to plan for the times after. She thinks of a girl with her family killed in front of her who made revenge her mission and was not satisfied until she took everything and more from the man responsible.

(Months later, Morrigan hears that Melisende took the young Nathaniel Howe and raised him to the status of Grey Warden to redeem his family's name, to the bemusement of everyone around her, and thinks that fits.)

She thinks of the girl who sent a dwarf to the Circle simply to learn, who returned an acorn to a talking tree, and who robbed the nobility for all they were worth simply because she could.

This is where the bards get bored and gossip takes over.

It's told that Melisende didn't linger in Denerim. She left Alistair to settle in after the celebrations ceased, the two of them resolved to remain friends. She saw Oghren off on the way to Lake Calenhad to find Felsi again, and was at the docks a day later with Sten, Zevran, Shale, Wynne, and, of course, Leliana. Melisende convinced Shale and Wynne, because no one could refuse her, to take the long way round to Tevinter by sea, stopping off at Par Vollen on the way.

One less, the group continued to Tevinter until they were down to three. Morrigan wonders if Melisende enjoyed the relative anonymity, both of not being called “Hero” or “Cousland”. There was a brief foray into Orlais, Morrigan assumes it was Leliana's idea, until it seems some semblance of duty drew Melisende back to the east. That was where Zevran left them, perhaps returning to Antiva, or maybe striking out for new lands altogether.

They stayed in Highever for a few months, Melisende rebuilding and showing Leliana the remains of her home, or so Morrigan assumes. Perhaps they ate dinner with Fergus every night, perhaps Leliana sat back and read whilst Melisende and Fergus bickered and caught up, or maybe they sat silent as Leliana wove yarns for them to listen to late into the evening.

Six months, all told, of Melisende being something other than a Grey Warden. Perhaps she found relief in being called to duty as Warden-Commander at Vigil's Keep, or was she reluctant to leave her rediscovered domesticity and home? That was where Leliana left, recalled by the Chantry with promises that she wouldn't be long, but both of them had their roles to play.

With that, the gossip ends and the reports begin. Reports on the Wardens at Vigil's Keep, reports on the new Warden-Commander settling into her role.

In the end, what Morrigan remembers is a young noblewoman and her mabari hound, trudging through Ferelden with a transient, ragtag group. Time brings all things around, and that is what Melisende remains.