#The Woman on the Edge of the Cliff Wants to Make the Dark Knight Fall In Love With Her!

[rosycheekies]

I Want to Make Black-Knight Fall In Love With Me! by Suou (洲央) & sometime

[sekhisadventures]

The Battle for Beledar

The City of Threads, Several Hours Ago

Garnal walked into the quarters of the outlanders who had sided with Xal’atath’s Order of Night, the death knight having delivered word of their discovery in the Maddening Deeps to the Harbinger personally.

Sekhi, a seemingly inconsequential vulpera woman, had the power to channel Azeroth’s voice in such a way as to counter the power of the black blood itself. This gave Xal’atath pause. She did not feel that a single adventurer could be much of a threat to her plans, even if Azeroth was able to use them as her mouthpiece, but she did not want the risk so close to her plans coming to fruition for Beledar.

“We have our orders.” he nodded to Xiaren, the pandaren woman nodding as she stood up from the table where she had just finished eating her rations for the day.

“… and?” she asked as, behind her, the sha manifested and leered at Garnal over her shoulder.

“Mistress Xal’atath decrees that the vulpera is not to be allowed to live. We find her, we silence her. Permanently.” he nodded.

Xiaren’s mouth flickered in a small grin before she suppressed the emotion, the sha growling and sinking it’s claws into her shoulders. She had remembered what the song had sounded like to her, she never wanted to hear that again.

The voices, voices long dead from her childhood, from before the darkness and madness and pain, begging and pleading with her to abandon this path. She hated that thought. Revenge against the ‘heroes’ who had caused Pandaria to fall to war, who had robbed her of everything, that was all she wanted now.

“We march within the hour, make ready Xiaren.” stated the death knight as he turned to go.

“Oh I am very ready…” she snarled, flexing her fingers as, behind her, the sha giggled malevolently.

Hallowfall, near the cliffs leading into Azj-kahet

The nerubians swarmed over the edge of the cliffs towards the Arathi lands, lead by their ascended. It had been discovered recently during some covert operations led by Lillian Voss that the ascended were more than just enhanced by their infusions with the Black Blood. Xal’atath could use the blood to take direct control of their minds! Each of the ascended’s eyes glowed with the power of the void, driven into a battle frenzy by the harbinger as they clashed with the defenders.

“Stand fast! Ready another volley of ballista bolts quickly!” shouted General Steelstrike as, behind her, the lamplighters frantically reloaded their weapons. Ahead of them the rest of their solders, along with the earthen of Dornogal and the forces of the Alliance and Horde stood ready.

Among the forces of the Alliance and Horde were the members of Avalon and Savage United. Nelen and Grimo stood together at their head, the worgen man channeling the power of the arcane to blast his foes backwards off the cliffs to fall, screaming and flailing, into the depths of the caverns. The goblin… mostly the same, but less wand waving and more gunpowder.

A familiar roar came from nearby as Galdia tore into another one, a crash of thunder booming through the caves. She had insisted on bringing Zayera with her, her new stormrook companion named for her fallen friend from Draenor. Well, friend… lover… Galdia didn’t bother with titles. She liked Zayera, a lot. Details didn’t matter to her. What did matter to her, and right now her allies, was that the stormrook had the ability to imbue her sword and shield with the power of her elemental might, causing the orc’s strikes to electrocute her foes as much as cut them. Also, the stormrook was a powerful combatant in her own right, and able to help drive back the nerubian’s flying forces. The air around Zayera crackled with lightning, the fliers who came close to her were blown out of the sky!

Standing before Grimo and Nelen were Dareley and Mola’raum, acting as a guard for their ranged allies. Dareley wore a newly forged suit of plate mail, modeled after the Arathi style, to replace the one that Nyloc had aged into rust and tatters while Mola’raum wore his usual mix of trollish clothes and blackened Maldraxxi forged gear. Dareley’s kyrian made sword glowed with a radiance to outshine Beledar at its zenith as he sliced into another advancing nerubian while the blades on Mola’raum’s glave were lit with the baleful power of the Shadowlands, the necrotic energy rotting his foes from within with each strike.

Behind them all was Sekhi, the vulpera piping away on her flute as her fingers worked in a blur along the length of the wooden tool. Each note empowered a huge stormcloud that had formed over the battlefield, and each finished line of her song was punctuated by a blast of lightning arcing down into the nerubian forces!

Despite this, the arachnids pushed onwards. The ascended could no more refuse the will of Xal’atath than they could gravity, their minds utterly overridden by the Harbinger’s power. The rest of the nerubians were driven on by fear of defying her and their Queen. Whether they supported Ansurek or not, now was not the time to question… not if they liked their head where it was when they woke up that morning.

The rest of their allies were scattered among their forces, but every so often they would catch a glimpse of the familiar bulk of Shalandrae in her bear form as she mauled another attacker, or they’d see the shadowy form of Nitika Darkhoof as she unleashed the power of the Void back against their enemies. It could be hard to pick them out among the other defenders however, every adventurer on the Island seemed to have answered the call to arms!

As the battle raged, Sekhi paused, her ears perking up as she looked around. “That song… Grimo! Nelen! I hear ‘em! Garnal ‘n Xiaren are comin’!” she yipped in warning as the goblin and mage hesitated, looking around the battlefield.

Grimo frowned and lowered his goggles, turning on his NME (necro-mantic energy meter,) but Mola’raum was nearby and there were plenty of other undead in their ranks. Several members of the Ebon Blade, as well as quite a few forsaken. Voss herself was there, and her own power shined like a beacon to the goblin’s sensors… then he looked up and took aim, “INCOMING!” he barked as two nerubian flyers descended.

Astride the spidery fliers were their two foes, Garnal Blackice and Xiaren! The two dodged to the right as Grimo’s rifle cracked off, a blast of buckshot just barely missing Garnal as he snarled and leaned forward, the flier going into a dive.

Xiaren frowned and raised her hands, then slammed them forward. “GO!” she commanded, and ahead of the defenders a voidgate opened and a frenzied scream came from within! Out of the voidgate surged a mob of skardyn, the corrupted earthen rushing towards the defenders!

Dareley swore and lashed out with his sword, the light-blessed metal cutting through the void-corrupted earthen like butter, but Xiaren had clearly been keeping a lot of minions in reserve. More kept coming to join the nerubians!

Garnal drew close, darting to the left as a blast of arcane energy sizzled through the sky, and with a roar he leapt from the flyer and landed behind Grimo and Nelen, right infront of Sekhi! The ground shook with the impact of his landing as the force knocked the vulpera off her feet to land behind him.

Sekhi’s flute went clattering to the ground, the vulpera yipping in shock as she reached for it, then quickly pulled her arm back as the fanged blade of the death knight slammed into the ground between her hand and the wooden instrument.

“The Harbinger has marked you for death vulpera…” growled Garnal as he raised his other blade. Behind him Grimo and Nelen readied their own attacks, but Mola’raum and Dareley were too focused on keeping the nerubians and skardyn back! They couldn’t help!

Sekhi’s ears folded back, but she raised her hands and whistled under her breath, and lighting began to crackle around her fingertips. She wasn’t the novice she was when they went to the Shadowlands anymore, she knew how to fight! “S-stay back!” she barked, baring her teeth at him.

The death knight sneered, an aura of sickly green energies crackling over his armor. Anti-magic, a powerful defensive tool to thwart spellcasters. Sekhi’s lightning would be little more than static to him with that up.

Behind him Nelen unleashed a salvo of arcane missiles, the shield absorbing them all with ease, as Grimo’s rifle crackled off, the bullet ricocheting off his armor with the death knight barely noticing as he raised his sword…

… and with a sudden woosh a cloud soared over the battlefield and a shape landed next to him. With a roar a figure slammed her fist into the joint where his armor plates met, sending Garnal stumbling several feet away, his swing going wide and just missing Sekhi’s muzzle.

Jaie Swiftpaw didn’t hesitate, the pandaren woman rushing forward and landing another series of strikes into his armor, her hands glowing as she channeled the pure energies of life against him! Garnal grimaced, the energy flowing around his armor to attack him directly! She may be using her bare hands against plate armor, but she wasn’t just attacking him with her fists alone! He couldn’t defend against chi!

Sekhi scrambled to her feet as Jaie lashed out with her foot, sending him stumbling backwards. “Jaie! Hot sands that was good timin’…” she nodded, quickly retrieving her flute and holding it tight to her as if scared she’d drop it again.

“I could sense Xiaren, so I knew he had to be here too!” she nodded. If there was one thing every monk recognized it was the aura of one of the sha! There was no forgetting that after Pandaria!

Garnal scowled, the death knight readied his blades, the undead warrior’s eyes darting between the vulpera and pandaren, as well as their goblin and worgen allies. Four on one, not great odds… and they were about to get worse for him.

“Xiaren! TAKE THE VULPERA!” he barked. Before they could react Xiaren’s flyer swooped down and a blast of webbing shot out of its mouth! Sekhi yipped in shock, but nerubian webs were as strong as steel! The silken fibers enclosed her and lifted the struggling vulpine right off her feet as Xiaren soared off towards one of the nearby Arathi villages that had already fallen under assault from their forces.

“SEKHI!” shouted Jaie, glaring at Garnal and then back up at the retreating flyer…

As she did however a blast of light lit up the field nearby. Dareley had sheathed his sword and shield and invoked the light once more, the earthen paladin wielding a hammer of pure holiness now as he unleashed it’s might against the attackers, allowing Mola’raum to fall back.

“Go!” he nodded to the pandaren, pointing his glave towards Xiaren. “I got dis…” he snarled, turning to Garnal. Jaie nodded to him, then pulled out her flying disk and leapt atop it as she raced off after Xiaren and her captive.

Garnal glared at him, standing ready to repeal any assault… but Mola’raum did not raise his weapon. Instead he reached into his pouch, then pulled out a small stone… with the image of a skeleton holding a scythe on it. “Know wut dis be, traitor?” he smirked.

Garnal’s eyes widened. He knew, EVERY death knight knew. He stepped back once, then again, making ready to retreat, but Mola’raum was faster.

“I, Mola’raum of de Ebon Blade, call to ya Reaper!” he roared, his words echoing as the symbol on the stone lit up with a baleful light, “I name Garnal Blackice traitor ta de Ebon Blade! STRIKE HIM DOWN!”

Before Garnal could go further a death’s gate erupted into existence next to Mola’raum and from within its shadowy depths came the clatter of hooves. The Reaper had heard his call, the Reaper was coming!

Garnal grimaced and turned, intent on putting as much distance between himself and the portal as he could… and then from within the shadows erupted a skeletal steed, it’s bones glowing with a crimson aura. Astride it was a woman with deep red hair, a two-handed claymore sheathed upon her back. She was dressed not in armor, but in a suit that a nobleman might have worn. She unsheathed her blade and held it out, standing atop her mount, and then in one fluid motion she leapt from it’s back and landed on the path ahead of Garnal, causing him to stumble to a halt.

“Not so fast!” she laughed, her voice higher pitched than one might expect. “I hear your call Mola’raum! Garnal Blackice, you have been named traitor and now you face the Reaper! Stand and fight or flee and die!” she taunted.

If Garnal could sweat, he would have… the sight of this woman chilled his undead blood even more than it already was. This was a Reaper, the elite of the Ebon Blade, the true loyal knights chosen by Bolivar and his Horsemen to hunt down traitors and mad knights and… deal with them.

Though to some outsiders it would look odd that Garnal was hesitating to attack her… given that she only came up to his waist.

Standing there, her blade’s point aimed towards him as she smirked confidently, was a gnome!

“Nankoz…” he growled, gripping his weapons as he weighed his options…

Nelen’s ears perked up, catching Garnal’s voice. “Nankoz? Why does that name sound familiar…” muttered the magus.

The gnome smirked, “That’s right, you betrayed the Ebon Blade, and now you face Nankoz Scarletspark, queen of the vampyr!” she taunted, then the gnome dove forward and lashed out with her sword as Garnal swore and brought his up just in time to block her weapon, the death knight almost knocked off his feet by the force of the blow! Despite her size, this gnome was strong!

Nelen snapped his fingers, hearing that again. “Wait… wait wait wait… it… that name… it can’t be…” he began, then he yelped and ducked as a blast of shadows flew just past his head, “Right, worry about it later!” he snarled, turning his attention back to the battlefield as Grimo and Mola’raum joined him.

Garnal fought back, but even with his weapons enhanced by the black blood he was being pressed back by his diminutive assailant! She may be a gnome, but she was fast and her sword seemed to weigh almost nothing in her arms, the edge shining with a bloody smear that seemed to never vanish no matter how many times it slammed into his own.

He stumbled back, then grinned as a snarl went up nearby. Nankoz’s head looked up to see a mob of skardyn bearing down on her. The starcursed earthen would attack anyone they saw as a target, and she certainly counted.

She smirked, then ran her hand along the edge of her sword and forced her blood out onto the ground. The spilled blood began to boil, then the puddle of blood suddenly swelled and grew with alarming speed as it surged upwards into a massive monster made of crimson liquid! “GO!” she commanded as the blood beast surged forward into her attackers before she turned back to Garnal… then paused.

She looked to the left, then to the right, but the skardyn had been the distraction he’d needed. Garnal had vanished into the chaos of the battlefield, preferring to take his chances with the other defenders than face down a Reaper.

“Oh sprockets…” she huffed, sheathing her blade. “Well, he’s after Mola’raum and his buddies…” she grinned, and as she did one might notice her canines were sharper than a normal gnome’s. “He’ll be back…” she giggled.

Elsewhere…

The village had all but fallen to the nerubian swarm. Chaos and death were everywhere. It would be the perfect place to get rid of someone troublesome Xiaren reasoned.

Perhaps it would have been better to retreat into the depths of Azj-kahet with her captive, but right now she wasn’t thinking especially clearly. Truth was most times were like that, but now more than normal. She hated that Sekhi’s song had awoken such memories in her, she wanted it silenced.

She landed her flyer and dragged the struggling cocooned vulpera away towards one of the buildings which was on fire from the assault. “Just… toss the fox in there… and let the fire do it’s thing…” she growled, trying hard to keep her emotions smothered as she felt the sha’s claws digging into her.

No emotion, no feeling, just do the deed. Even the tiniest flicker of emotion was food for her shadow, and that shadow was NOT her ally. It would turn on her given the slightest chance.

Suddenly she heard a whistling sound in the air, the woman pausing. Being blind for several years (technically still blind, but she could use the sha’s eyes to see) gave her extremely accurate hearing… and she looked to her left just in time to see Jaie Swiftpaw, on her flying disc, approaching at speed!

Xiaren swore and dove out of the way as Jaie landed and slashed with her spear, the tip severing the threads that the sha-corrupted pandaren had been holding as the sorceress scrambled backwards. Another flick of her speartip and the cocoon split open as Sekhi immediately sat up and gasped for breath, her eyes wide and her knuckles white under her fur from gripping her flute.

“Sekhi… what does her song sound like?” asked Jaie, glaring at Xiaren as the sha sorceress raised her hands, shadows crackling between her fingers.

Sekhi cocked her head, then her ears flicked. “Um… I dunno… th’ sha’s song is really really really loud, ‘n really hungry… but I can barely hear her’s.” she nodded, “She’s forcin’ it down, hard.” she nodded.

Jaie nodded, then stepped forward. “Xiaren. This doesn’t have to end in death. I am a monk. I can use my chi to sever the sha’s hold on you! Surrender, let me help you!” she called to their foe.

Xiaren’s expression grew furious. “Help… always offering help…” she spat, “ITS TOO LATE FOR THAT!” she swore, then shuddered and took a deep breath, forcing the sudden rush of anger back down before the sha could latch onto it. “Nobody helped me for too long… I don’t care about it anymore!” she replied icily, raising her hand as she prepared a blast of shadows.

Jaie grimaced and dove to the side as the blast slammed a hole through one of the half-collapsed houses, Sekhi scrambling the other way.  She didn’t bother summoning the skardyn (all she’d kept in reserve were back at the battlefront anyways.) She wanted to deal with this one herself. Slowly she rose into the air as tendrils of sha-corrupted energies swirled around her, the woman readying another spell… then smirking.

“Nobody saved me… so why should anyone else be saved?” she asked, and a chill went down Jaie’s spine as she took aim, but not at her or Sekhi.

A blast of shadows shot through one of the still intact windows of a nearby house and screams came from inside! Xiaren grinned widely, then blasted through a barricade infront of another house. Moments later a trio of nerubians raced inside, terrified cries coming from the building’s interior!

Jaie glared, “STOP IT! These people have done nothing to you!” she demanded, but Xiaren was airborne now and she couldn’t fight her in midair!

Sekhi could however, the vulpera putting her flute to her muzzle and piping out a quick tune as a bolt of lightning arced down from the cavern roof only for Xiaren’s sha to manifest and bat it away with one massive claw, cackling at them as it did so.

Xairen stared at Jaie, “So what?! I didn’t do anything to anyone, but that didn’t stop what happened to me!” she retorted, her impassive visage cracking as emotion seeped back in. This monk was infuriating! She HATED her. She tried to force it down, but it was a hot searing feeling in her mind. She couldn’t hide it entirely. She spoke of helping her, of what was right… but rightness didn’t save her! Nobody had helped her! She had to deal with her sha all on her own!

She heard a crash nearby… then saw an arathi woman racing through the town towards the road out that would lead away from the battle towards Mereldar… and without thinking she lashed out at her with a burst of sha-corruption. The blast hit the woman full on and she screamed in pain as her mind and body erupted with agony, falling to the ground.

Sekhi and Jaie ran to the fallen woman, but they weren’t the only ones… a young Arathi boy who couldn’t have been more than ten ran from hiding.

“MOM!” he screamed in terror as he fell to his knees at her side.

Jaie rolled the woman onto her back as Sekhi’s ears flicked, the vulpera looking to Jaie, then shaking her head sadly. She couldn’t hear the woman’s song anymore. Xiaren’s spell had killed her.

The boy stared at the woman’s corpse in shock and horror, too young to really process what he was seeing. He began to weep, to try to shake her, to beg her to wake up… for this to just not be real.

Xiaren stared at them. She wanted to shout that this was how it felt, that this was what she had to endure too, that nobody would save them from the void and it’s power… but then she’d seen the child.

Her mind flashed back suddenly to a small village in the Valley of the Four Winds, the mantid swarming over it, laying siege to it as the spawn of the Sha of Fear feasted on the villager’s terror.

She saw another woman, a pandaren woman bleeding out from a mantid blade, and next to her a young pandaren girl crying and screaming for her to wake up and flee, not yet realizing that she was already gone.

A village that had done no wrong, besieged by the insectoid descendants of the aquir and their dark allies… just… like… this.

“I…” whispered Xiaren, “… that… I…” she stammered, unable to halt the sudden surge of conflicting emotions in her mind… and that was all it needed.

"MINE!" roared her Sha as it sank its claws deep into her psyche! "MINE MINE MINE!"

Jaie and Sekhi’s heads snapped up at the sound of Xiaren’s scream as her body erupted with an aura of sha corruption, the voidspawned horror cackling with malevolent glee as the pandaren woman fell to the ground, her hands beginning to twist into claws as the sha attempted to fully possess her!

Jaie leapt to her feet. “Sekhi! Get him out of here!” she shouted as she slid into the ox stance, the vulpera grabbing the arathi boy by the arm and trying to urge him out of the city even as he cried for his mother and tried to drag her body along with them.

There was a swirl of darkness all around Xiaren’s body as she began to manifest visible signs of sha corruption. Learning to control the sha’s power had made her body that much better a host for it. Perhaps that was Xal’atath’s plan, to ensure that if nothing else she could simply unleash the sha upon her and have a monster when she needed it, but in either case the surge of emotions had totally shattered Xiaren’s mental defenses keeping it in check, and the sha held back no longer!

The starcursed pandaren’s head snapped towards Jaie, her ruined eyes wide and wild as her teeth extended into sha-corrupted fangs. She raised her hands and unleashed a wave of darkness as Jaie leapt over it and raced towards her, the monk’s hands glowing with the jade light of purified chi.

Jaie knew she had to stop Xiaren. In her current state she’d level what was left of the village, and any survivors that hadn’t managed to escape yet would meet the same fate as that poor arathi woman on the ground.

Jaie rolled out of the way of another burst of darkness, then leapt aside at another, closing the distance to Xiaren as fast as she could, already able to see the sha monster attached to her even without Nitika’s help. The creature had merged enough with her to manifest almost fully.

Xiaren flailed with more and more blasts of darkness as Jaie sped towards her. Twenty feet, ten… and finally Jaie was close enough for her claws to reach her. Xiaren screamed wordlessly and raised her hands, now more akin to massive talons, ready to bring them down upon the monk, as Jaie lashed out and slammed her hands outwards, one landing on Xiaren’s forehead and the other on her chest, as she unleashed the chi she had been storing into the sorceress!

Time seemed to freeze for them, the chi linking them mind and body as Jaie sent her power through Xiaren and at the sha… and as she did she saw something.

She saw a massive swirling sha-monstrosity, its eyes gleaming with malevolence, its body dripping, literally dripping, with shadows like some sort of ink or oil.

Buried under it all was a small pandaren child, barely more than a girl.

The girl looked up at her, her expression showing a bone deep exhaustion so painful that the monk could almost feel it herself… and Jaie recognized her face.

Then there was a sudden snap and both pandaren went flying away from each other. Jaie landed in a heap as Xiaren crashed into a wall behind her, the sorceress coughing loudly as the wind was knocked out of her. The claws and fangs were gone, Jaie’s magic had managed to break the sha’s hold for now. She could almost hear it screaming in thwarted fury.

Jaie got to her feet shakily, “That… you…” she stammered.

Xiaren stared at her, then roared and blasted a stream of shadows in her direction before slamming her other hand on the wall behind her, tearing open a voidgate. “STAY AWAY FROM ME!” she shrieked before she dove through it, the portal snapping shut behind her.

Jaie stared at where she’d been, her mind reeling with what she’d seen. Xiaren had done horrible things, but… under it all, under all the rage and fury, she was still that pandaren child.

She had never moved on from that day, she had never had the chance to heal and grow. The sha had forced her to stay, for years and years, the same helpless pandaren child who had lost her family to the mantid.

Jaie looked towards the body of the arathi woman Xiaren had killed, then back to where she’d vanished, and shook her head. Whatever the reasons, Xiaren was dangerous. They had to find a way to stop her. Jaie wanted that to be purging her sha and freeing her from her torment… but it may come down to simply stopping her before her madness cost any more lives.

Next Story

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[findmanga]

A new Yuri Manga series is scheduled to launch in February, Read the full article.

Writer Suoh and manga artist sometime are scheduled to launch their new series, “The Woman on the Edge of a Cliff Wants to Make the Dark Knight Fall in Love with Her,” in the April issue of Comic Yuri Hime.

Beginning on February 17, the show centers on Clarice, a young lady compelled to wed a notorious dark knight in the realm for political reasons.

https://findmangas.com/anime-manga-news/a-new-yuri-manga-series-is-scheduled-to-launch-in-february/

[blueberrypancakesworld]

~ Half a year ~

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warning ; implied/referenced sui*de attempt , fluff

next chapter , masterlist

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Half a year that was about six full moons over the whole of Westeros. Its light illuminated the island as it had seventeen years ago and would continue to do so for the next millennia. Half a year had passed since she had sent her uncle away. It was not a banishment, no it certainly was not. But it was a warning, a warning that she would have done it. She would have taken Longclaw and the cold old Valyrian steel and thrust it into the older man's throat. She would have killed her uncle in cold blood in front of everyone. But then what good would it have done her ? Then she would have been alone and had frightened underlings who might have rebelled against her. She would have laughed weakly at the thought. She knew that there were younger kings, ladys, princes and princesses who had duties that far exceeded hers. She was now eighteen, a full-fledged woman of the times. She was now the true Lady Mormont of Bear Island. But the ache in her heart that froze her emotions like the coldest winter had not left her for half a year. Even the healers seemed overwhelmed. It was not a dream of battle like thousands of knights and soldiers. It was deep-seated like a root that seemed to dig into her heart. Deep irrepressible grief. After she had cried out her grief in the hall half a year ago, because she did not know how else to help herself, a lot of time had passed. 

She had lost a handful of older residents to raids or to time. A few more men had been sent back by Lord Stark. She had received a letter of congratulations from her overlord himself. But of course there were the letters from Rhaenyra. They had kept in touch with each other as best they could. Sometimes several letters and sometimes only one. But they were all full of words of love, devotion, compassion and courage. Courage in the hope that they would meet again. But they both helped each other through the sadness that still befell Rhaenyra and Y/n. But at the latest when the sun came over Bear Island that morning, the young Mormont knew that her childhood was over. Her new duty was to marry and have children. She had to keep the house alive.

The wind passed her by and gave her goosebumps in the cool morning. The sound of the rushing waterfall below and beside her was deafening. When she looked at her castle, she saw how the people were all turning to their work. But the Lady of the Island. She stood at the edge of the cliff that ended in the deep dark water. I won't be able to fly she thought logically and yet the tip of her boots was already sticking out over the abyss. She knew that if she jumped she would fall for a moment, a last moment in this world. It would hurt even less and then there would be salvation. She would see her parents again and celebrate with her ancestors in the hall with the countless Mormonts and their bears. ,,A nice thought" she thought aloud and was about to make a move when someone grabbed her arm and yanked her back. ,,Have you gone mad?" her commander shouted at her, anger in his eyes. 

Time had not only made her mentally stronger, she had also changed slightly physically. But her foster father seemed to have grown even older through the harshness of the island. ,,Why are you doing this? You are the last Mormont!" he said disappointedly and shook her shoulders slightly. ,,I don't want it...the duty. I want my-" she broke off as her gaze went to the floor and tears formed slightly in her eyes. ,,You want your?" he asked and his gaze changed to a calm one as he sensed her tearing. She sniffed before wiping away a tear, ,,I don't want to lose my freedom. I don't want to squeeze children out of me. I don't want to be tied to the bed and die in marriage," she said, helplessly clinging to the only father figure she had. Surprise was on his face as he stroked her back and held her in his arms. ,,I'm sorry," was all he said and they both knew it was the only thing he could do for her. Because nothing could be done against the laws and time. It was something that even the king probably could not change. It was an indisputable rule which patterns had to be followed.

And those who were hit with the woman's curse had to accept that they would eventually be married. Because survival counted. The survival of the house counted for every price. ,,When did I become so weak?" she sniffed bitterly and slowly detached herself from the older man. ,,My strong Y/n, you have never been weak. Even if you are affected by grief and fears you are not weak. Your people love you they do more than ever. Your parents are proud of you I am. You could not have been a better Lady of the House of Mormont. You surpass even your father in your strength" she heard her father's loving words. Involuntarily she had to smile and a smile also appeared under the older man's beard. ,,Don't let him hear you say that," she said and her foster father shook his head, laughing slightly. ,,No he shouldn't...you knew what time you were coming in the next few months your whole house and your followers we are with you" he assured her and pulled her into a final hug. The pain in her chest had improved a small feeling of courage or hope seemed to have flared up. 

Almost as if time would first allow a dragon. What is initially a small spark becomes a dragon's flame. ,,A beautiful view," he said as he looked over the large forest and the castle. The younger only nodded briefly, but she still loved her home, it was what made Bear Island so special. She sighed as she realised they couldn't stand here forever. She turned and walked over to Alyssa who had been watching intently. Mounting her bear, she waited for her commander before they rode back. ,,What's going on?" she said as she saw the older man nervously running his beard for the umpteenth time. ,,Well, a handful of ravens have flown in since sunrise. From the surrounding lands and houses," he finally admitted and cleared his throat. ,,I suppose the Lannisters are too lazy to move their golden asses out of Casterlyrock themselves," she commented, seeing the smirk on his lips. ,,Well, the fine lions are too good for a simple she-bear," the older said and the younger nodded. I guess I'll be lucky if it's even a lord with a measly castle...what a shame when your wife has an entire island," she said and sighed. Anything but Lord Glover the one-armed bastard, she thought and picked up her pace. The two arrived at the castle and the day stopped at their subordinates. "Good morning mistress" or "I hope you had a pleasant ride" came a few shouts to the head of the Mormonts. ,,You were right, Commander," she said more calmly, and it seemed that as she grew up, her subordinates' joy increased. They finally see me as perfect, she thought, pride spreading through her. She stole a glance from Alyssa who ran after her rider before the three disappeared into the Mormont keep. They went into their advisor's room and found him already hunched over all the letters.

The ravens were cavorting in individual cages and their black eyes looked down on the humans. ,,My lady, numerous letters have already come courting your hand. As well as contracts for who gets what, not to mention permits to come to Bear Island," he told her eagerly before asking the younger girl to sit down. She suppressed a sigh when she saw the notes but was slightly surprised as there were really only a handful of ravens. Is my property not so desirable after all? she asked herself, but let it drop. What did she know how men thought except with their tails and lust for power. ,,So first the lowest houses Lord Mollen has offered his nephews the future lord of the house and the relatively small family seat. His two biological sons died in battle and his daughter and child died," he began and at the name Mollen she only vaguely remembered the older man. ,,That's it, that's all, that's almost disappointing," she quipped and shook her head slightly. But inside she felt uneasy, she didn't like what they were talking about. A little mood always solves problems, doesn't it? 

Her foster father seemed to sense her tension before disappearing and bringing her a goblet of beer. ,,Well, the Lady of the House of Marsh herself has proposed her son. As a token of admiration, she has given you a piece of green silk for an even more beautiful wedding dress with her young son," he continued, pointing to the considerable amount of dark green fabric. Her hand stroked the soft silk and she nodded briefly as she realised that the fabric must not have been cheap. ,,Say, how old is this little son of hers?" she asked and took another sip of her drink. ,,Well, he's nine," the older man said briefly and Y/n almost choked on her wine. ,,I'm supposed to marry a child, by the gods, the little one probably can't even hold a sword properly," she thought aloud and cleared her throat so as not to be too out of character. ,,No, it's nice because of the fabric, but write that he's too young. He must be a warrior, he should be able to protect his subjects. Oh, and if I remember correctly, House Marsh has the allegiance of House Reed, doesn't it?" she asked, receiving a hesitant nod from her foster father. ,,There you have the answer they are not even vassals of the Starks. No the next" she said and somehow tried not to lose her courage. 

Her advisor put aside a few letters that probably belonged to the rest of the lesser houses. ,,Well, from the higher houses with castles and lands, House Cerwyn has come forward. Lord Cerwyn is looking for a good match for his first born son for his inheritance. His lands would be subdivided and half the harvest would go to us. Our people will assist as well as provide money for raids to rebuild. In return, your hand and the entire ice bay," the older man explained to her. But no sooner had these words been spoken than a quick, clear ,,No" came. ,,My ladyship House Cerwyn is a good match if I may say so ", but he was interrupted when she suddenly stood up from her chair. ,, I appreciate your concern. But I will not give away all of Ice Bay, which is my entire country, just for a few fields.Bringing the sea lanes in the ice cove and additional money for passing them would cost us dearly," she countered, knowing the importance of the ice cove. They'll think I'm stupid, she thought angrily and took the last sip from her goblet. ,,Well, the last of the noble houses with the most wealth is House Manderly. The lord asks his cousin Marlon Manderly to join him, he is the commander of the garrison at White Harbor. This would be the best match as they say you can keep your island, only lift the tariffs in Ice Bay for Manderly and...your bears will go all over Westeros. They want to train the bears for battle," he said, looking at the younger girl's thoughtful expression. She knew he was right, House Manderly might not be as strong as House Stark, but it was richer than all of them put together.

House Mormont itself belonged to the noble higher houses because of its island and the Ice Bay as well as the bears. But House Manderly was generous, only the bears were something she didn't like. Training the bears on such a large scale would be extremely costly and burdensome. ,,Write to them and tell them they've been shortlisted. I would be honoured by your generous offer and your kindness in leaving the formalities to you. Tell them I'd be willing to consider it if they'd let the bears out of the game in exchange for me dropping the tariffs on them and their business partners. But the bears, if they're after business, we can't go on with the animals," she said, pouring herself some wine. ,,No, we train bears sporadically when they are born here. It would throw the island out of balance to capture and train wild ones. It would just take too long, I can't do that," she finished before draining the goblet in one go and heading for the door. ,,I trust your answers and letters," she said and was about to leave when the elder called out, ,,Wait Lady Y/n another letter has arrived from King's Landing I thought you would want to read it immediately like the others," he said with a small smile and handed her the rolled up paper. ,,Thank you as I said, I'll leave the rest to you" she said and hurried into her room, suddenly freed from all duties. In the moments when she wrote with Rhaenyra it was as if all doubts were erased. Everything that was important was forgotten and her heart blossomed in the flames of her secret love that began with an I love you from her side and a kiss from Rhaenyra. She unrolled the parchment and saw in the dark fine lines that it was Rhaenyra who had written back to her.

To my Y/n

My dearest heart it has been too long since we last saw each other. It hurts every night to look at the sky, to feel the wind, the cold, the warmth of Syrax's fire but not your embrace. All this is not you. That is why I am writing you this letter in advance. A long half year has passed and hardly anything has changed here in King's Landing. Father is still defensive and almost intransigent - he avoids me as if he were not grieving at all, and that hurts. Alicent and I are happy about our friendship, it somehow gives us support in this strange time. Daemon is still away and I don't know where and when he will return. Syrax misses Caraxes a lot but I told you about that. The reason I am writing to you is that as soon as the letter reaches you I will come to you late in the evening at night. Father has allowed me with Ser Otto's conviction that I could use someone by my side to comfort me. He knows of our friendship with Alicent. You may come back to King's Landing to me. I will fly as fast as I can and be with you soon.

Your dragon Rhaenyra

When she read the last lines, she let out a loud cry of joy and hugged the letter tightly. Rhaenyra, I finally see you again, she thought delightedly and jumped through her room like a little child. But no sooner did the sounds of joy escape her again than the door flew open and her commander was in the room with two guards behind him. ,,Is everything all right, my lady?" he asked, slightly confused, as he looked around for someone. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat before calmly saying, ,,Yes, all is well, good news has come. The princess will arrive on her dragon tonight. It is an order from the king that I, as her personal...maid, should help her," she said, looking at the pleased yet slightly worried face of her foster father. ,,Then, my lady, I will inform the others to get ready. Meta will be here soon to help you pack," he said just as pressed before the door closed. Hastily she put the letter aside before pulling out her trunk from under the bed and gathering the most important things. 

Only a few moments later Meta rushed into the room and closed the door behind her. ,,By the sacred trees and the mighty bears. Is it true that the princess is coming?" she asked excitedly, clasping her lady's hands. A broad smile appeared on the Mormonts' face. ,,Yes, it is!" she said joyfully and the two embraced in a friendly hug. Meta knew that something must have happened, but the young Mormont kept quiet about it. That too many secrets were passed on was never good. ,,I really hope that your dragon will shine in the most beautiful flames" she said and the younger one understood what she was getting at. The two of them gathered the necessary things and this time she decided to proudly wear her mother's dress at the next party. She was now a lady, she was the Lady Mormont. No matter what she wore she would be given the respect she deserved as the leader of a house. "I will make you proud Mother and Father" she thought as her eyes went to her sword at her side. The things were packed faster than expected and Alyssa was well taken care of and had received a gentle cleansing from Y/n. The bear grumbled happily as she told of Syrax finally coming back. ,,You are friends, aren't you?" she asked and the bear raised and lowered her head almost as if she were nodding. The hours seemed to drag on, but the wait would be worth it. Finally she saw Rhaenyra again after half a year. Too long to separate two hearts as they both found. Slowly the sun disappeared in the sky and with it she also disappeared in the memorial room to her parents.

The torch shone on the wall as it always had and illuminated the two figures. ,,Mother. Father, I have become a woman according to the law. Eighteen years old and the head of our house. Unfortunately, I have not yet married... I will go with Princess Rhaenyra to King's Landing one more time. Don't worry, the house will not die out, I promise. But I will be away for a longer time, not forever but longer. I will never let you down, I love you" she said and stroked the two figures before smiling at them and walking out. The torch stayed back and let the shadows of the two figures dance. "I would never harm my house, believe me. Not with my love and not with other things" she said, knowing that her relationship, however small, with Rhaenyra would have to remain secret. Not only would her own house be disgraced, but Rhaenyra could be excluded as heir to the throne. When she stepped out, the torches were shining all over the castle, creating a pleasant atmosphere. 

A safe environment, but in this very safety her mother was killed. ,,Is everything all right, my lady?" asked her commander and she looked at him for a moment. His armor sparkled slightly in the light and made him look like a real knight. ,,Yes say are my things packed?" she asked the counter question and saw the short nod. ,,Everything is ready, including the cage for the transport of Alyssa. But if you wish her to be safely transferred to King's Landing with her armor, I can personally bring it by boat in a few days when I leave tomorrow morning," he offered, but she waved him off. She saw that all the inhabitants and employees had gathered and were looking up to the sky like children. ,,You will experience a miracle what you can tell your children in half a year! she exclaimed, and giggles and delighted laughter went around the group. Yes, remember it well, it may be the last time you see me, she thought, and she knew that she would be away for a long time. No, it was not a feeling, it was a wish. She wished to get away from Rhaenyra and just forget about her duties. ,,My lady," she heard her advisor say, pointing to the book of transactions and expenses in the chest. ,,Thank you, I will continue the business in King's Landing. It will remain a correspondence between us," she said curtly and got a slight bow. A screech came from the starless night lit only by the moon and all but Y/n flinched. The giant shadow flashed over the castle once and she saw the outline of Syrax screeching happily. Alyssa roared in greeting and her paw went up. 

The giant golden yellow wings swirled the ground lightly as Syrax moved as close as possible to the large gateway, not wanting to take up too much space. Since the keep was small and narrow compared to the entire castle in King's Landing. She shrieked one last time before letting Rhaenyra climb down. ,,Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, daughter of Viserys Targaryen, first of his name and heir to the Iron Throne," her commander exclaimed and everyone bowed. ,,Welcome to Bear Island, my family seat and Ice Bay," Y/n said, and had to pull himself together not to jump into the arms of the princess. The blonde wore her black dragon rider uniform with black scales and looked even prettier in the light of the torches. My dragon thought the young Mormont and smiled delightedly. Alyssa hummed and walked over to Syrax before the two seemed to be talking to each other.

While Syrax waved her tail up and down, Alyssa tried to catch it. ,,Don't worry Syrax won't hurt you," Rhaenyra said when she saw the look on the people's faces. ,,It's good to see you again Lady Y/n" she said and she saw the joy in those infinitely beautiful violet eyes. ,,The honor of your visit is all mine, but I'm afraid we have to leave soon," the young Mormont replied and the princess nodded. ,,On the given occasion I will fly again to the icey bay and your family seat. It would be an honor to be here. It is truly beautiful. My house, my castle and the woods are open to you at any time, what is mine is now yours," Y/n said, thinking, As my heart is yours and your heart is mine. Rhaenyra's eyes slid to the pack stowed in a net and she nodded. ,,Your pack is carried by Syrax. Only with your bear Alyssa, I'm afraid it will be difficult", but the commander replied, ,,My princess, don't worry, either I or a good trade friend of ours will bring Alyssa in a few days". The Targaryen nodded and smiled again as she slowly walked back to Syrax. ,,It is true that I will go to King's Landing again. But please do not worry, my uncle will not take care of you. He will not dare to set foot in my castle again. My commander and my loyal advisor will be in charge of everything in my absence. I expect you to show them respect!" called the young Mormont across the square and her servants nodded before they all knelt down. ,,Here we stand!" Y/n shouted loudly before her subordinates echoed it and Alyssa roared loudly. Only then did cheers and congratulations erupt for their journey. Alyssa let go of Syrax with a growl and came to her rider. ,,Don't be so hard on him. Keep him safe and we'll see you in a few days," the young Mormont murmured and Alyssa hummed before her head nestled against her hand.

She took one last look at her underlings and saw only loving glances. They are my house, my family. They respect me as their Lady Mormont as their bear she thought and pride gripped her chest. One last look at her castle before she turned and mounted Syrax behind Rhaenyra. The golden dragoness growled before rising with several wing beats, her claws digging into the net before lifting it up. Cheers arose below her as she was airborne with Rhaenyra on Syrax and disappeared into the darkness of the sky. ,,My dear Rhaenyra" she said and hugged the blonde from behind. She took the familiar scent of fire and dragon mixed with the noble scents of oils. ,,It's been too long, I've missed you every damn day," she heard Rhaenyra say before the blonde turned to her and they finally kissed again. 

She was intimate her lips still soft she tasted slightly sweetish after a fruit. She was beautiful. The way the moon illuminated her freckles and her hair shone. The eyes seemed to reflect the moon. ,,What is it?" asked Rhaenyra when she saw the dreamy look. Caught, the elder looked at the moon, ,,You are just as beautiful as a goddess," she said softly, hearing the small flattered sound of Rhaenyra. ,,I couldn't stop thinking about you every night and every day. I missed you, my heart," Rhaenyra said and her hand clasped the older one as the princess turned forward again. ,,You even more...so much has happened after I left it-" she broke off as the argument with her uncle came back to her. Syrax seemed to notice that something was wrong and flew slower so that they didn't have to talk so loudly because of the strong wind.

Rhaenyra turned around and her delicate hands gently clasped her beloved's face. ,,Whatever it was, it's over, you hear. Don't waste another thought on it. You are now with me, your queen, your flame, your lover. Everything will be fine now that we are together again," Rhaenyra said softly and gave her another gentle kiss. ,,I will explain everything to you when we get to King's Landing". ,,You must have a lot to tell, too," Y/n countered and heard Rhaenyra's chuckle. ,,It seems to me that if we leave each other alone only bad things will happen". ,,Let's never be separated again," said Y/n and the two of them put their heads together before Rhaenyra leaned her back against the young Mormont's torso.,, Syrax flies by herself" Rhaenyra answered the question before Y/n could even ask it. Rhaenyra smirked cheekily and Y/n rolled her eyes. Despite the fact that the night was cool, they did not freeze. Syrax gave off enough heat and since they were cuddling it was enough body heat. The young Mormonte's hands played with a strand of blond hair while Rhaenyra watched her blithely. 

It was soft and yet it had the same smoky smell as Syrax. ,,Your look is telling what do you want to tell me?" Rhaenyra asked after closing her eyes. Her hands left her hair and wandered along her cheeks and neck. For a moment she stroked the jugular vein, which was bluish under the skin. ,,That besides your calm heartbeat you have changed. You seem more mature, more adult, like a queen," Y/n said, and her hands lingered on those of Rhaenyras that lay on her chest. The Targaryen gently stroked the rougher hands with her thumb. ,,And you, my bear goddess, seem stronger than if you had won something," said Rhaenyras before yawning and apparently deciding to slowly fall asleep. ,,Besides your love, Rhaenyra...I have only gained strength in realization and duty," said the Mormont softly but audibly. Y/n's eyes wandered over the sky which still showed no stars but only the moon. It was like back then and a shiver ran through her body. Another look at Rhaenyras after a few minutes told her that the younger one had fallen asleep. Sweet Y/n thought as she watched the peacefully sleeping Rhaenyra for a moment. ,,Syrax" she said after a moment and the animal looked at her. Not knowing the High Valyrian word for King's Landing, she simply said ,,King's Landing". Syrax seemed to ponder for a moment before growling slightly and gently picking up speed. Careful not to wake Rhaenyra and the already sleeping Y/n.

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[celestialarchon]

The Celestial Archon

Chapter One: A Storm of Stars

Genshin Impact x F!reader

In the first chapter, you may find the mystery archon described in a way that doesn’t fit you. That’s okay, it will change to each individual’s own tastes with time. The archon is described a certain way for reasons regarding the story line!

WARNINGS: lots of genshin spoilers, mentions of blood/violence, & mentions of injury.

tag list! @pebblegwn @krexpe @rockinaflock @creation-magician @noythe @weightlessrose @kclremin @vievi @simpinforkirari @red-riots-crocs

Our story began when Mona, the esteemed astrologist made a bold declaration. The stars foretold the return of a mysterious eighth archon. With this information, the most influential people of Mondstat and Liyue set a plan into action. The beloved traveler and his sidekick were quickly dragged into the preparations for the Celestial Archon. Aether and Paimon were looking forward to resting after weeks of hard work but unfortunately were interrupted by a star falling from the heavens. And so, we continue onward with our adventure.

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Aether’s legs were sore, his knees began to buckle as he finally made it to the entrance of dawn winery. He yelped, falling forwards and closed his eyes preparing for the impact. It never came as two sets of hands grasped the boy and steadied him. Diluc, the esteemed owner of Dawn Winery sighed as his brother gently removed the mysterious young woman from Aether’s back. The red headed man scowled as the traveler’s knees buckled once more, catching the now unconscious boy.

The knights of favonious stood outside the winery, watching the two men carry the weakened traveler and mystery lady. With the stars still falling in the distance it was quite a sight to behold. Mona gasped as Kaeya approached, the woman in his arms still still sleeping. Her hair was long and wild, strange silvery tattoos danced on her skin, and her body was frail. Kaeya tried to be gentle with her, holding her bridal style but he could feel her losing strength and the warm blood from a wound staining his shirt.

Noelle rushed forward to remove Aether from Diluc, “My apologies Master Diluc, but this young lady needs a free room immediately.”

Diluc nodded, grimacing at the sight of the wounded woman in his brother’s arms. He pushed the doors to Dawn Winery open, making his way to the nearest guest room. Kaeya followed him and Jean yanked her younger sister along. The room was simple with a bed, night stand, and single chair. Kaeya set the woman down on the bed carefully, and rolled her over to see the back of her top soaked.

“Kaeya, go wash up.” Jean ordered, unsheathing her sword.

Diluc steered his brother out of the room while Jean got to work. With speed and precision, Jean’s sword cut the cloth away from the injury. Her eyes widened and she stepped back as the wound as freed. Barbara peeked around her sister and felt nausea building up. Noelle entered the room to see the two sisters in shock. Jean’s eyes were filled with a mixture of sadness and disgust.

“Did she have wings?” Barbara whispered, eyes never leaving the back of the woman.

“No, this isn’t a tear. Somebody or something did this to her,” Jean gritted her teeth, “they carved it into her.”

Noelle glanced over them to see something incredibly awful. There were two deep and wide gashes starting at her shoulder blades and meeting at her tailbone to make an upside down v symbol. Her breathing was shallow as the air hit the open wound. Barbara made her way to the bedside to infuse the wound with hydro energy and try to help the pain.

“Noelle!” Jean barked, “Find the Alchemists and tell Albedo to set up a direct teleport point here. Bring Sucrose here, we will need all the help we can get.”

Noelle nodded and dashed out the door, nearly colliding with the knight’s librarian. Lisa frowned but ignored the rushed girl and stepped into the room.

“Lisa,” Jean sighed as the woman walked in.

Lisa’s hand found its way to the dandelion knight’s shoulder, “Yes, acting grandmaster?”

“Please send word to Liyue Harbor that we need the aid of their best herbalist right now. This is urgent. You may also inform the adepti and Zhongli of the archon’s arrival but we need aid now.” Jean’s tone was serious, it struck a chord of anxiety in Lisa.

Without a word, Lisa strode out of the room and began to do as she was asked. Barbara continued to ease the pain of the sky goddess but grew more worried each second. The wound was infected. Sucrose burst in soon after, tears forming at the sight before her.

After what seemed like an eternity, Liyue Harbor’s esteemed top herbalist arrived with a small zombie girl. Together, the best healers from both countries began to work hard. They poured all their energy into their work and successfully removed the infection. By the time the sun began to come up, the wound was rapid healed but scarred terribly.

Though morning approached, the temporary residents of Dawn Winery found themselves crawling into bed to get some rest. Jean didn’t want to leave the eight archon’s side but was convinced to by her loving sister. The healers slept all day and all night long, missing the arrival of Liyue’s highest regarded people and adepti. Not a single soul dared to peak at the mysterious goddess as she slept, in fear of interrupting her much needed peace.

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24 Hours had passed since the arrival of the eighth archon. The herbalists and knights began to wake finally as morning approached. Unfortunately, when they went to check on the strange woman and her injuries, the room was empty. Dread set over Dawn Winery with the goddess of the stars missing once more.

Noon soon came to pass but there was no sign of the Celestial Archon. Everyone had split up to search for her but had no luck. Aether was frustrated and panicked as he fell onto the grass. Suddenly a large gust of wind blew him over, Paimon clutched to his hair as a winged blue beast shot across their line of vision.

“Dvalin?” Venti stood abruptly, “Could it be..”

Realization hit Aether, “Let’s go! We need to follow him!”

Aether, Venti, Kaeya, and Lisa trailed behind the dragon. Paimon screamed at them to slow down but they were too focused to care. Finally, out of breath, they stopped. Dvalin had landed on the edge of a cliff, his head leaned down to press his snout against the cheek of a beautiful woman. Her hair was still long and wild but not unkempt. Her eyes shone bright like stars and her skin seemed to glow under the sunlight. Aether was awestruck. Was that really the same person he rescued only a day before?

The wind carried her laughter as the majestic beast snuggled up to her. Her hands came up to stroke his scales as her feet left the ground. She truly was floating. Starstruck, Aether and the knights of favonious could only stare. Venti, however, burst forward with a gleeful giggle. The celestial archon turned as the bard crashed into her. Dvalin rested his head atop of hers as her arms wrapped around the childlike god.

“Don’t worry, Barbatos,” She reassured, “I missed you, too.”

“You scared me, you stupid supernova!” Venti nuzzled his face into her chest.

Aether shivered as a growl tore through the air. The noise startled him enough, he fell right on his ass. Xiao shot forwards, ripping the anemo archon off of the celestial archon.

“You bastard drunk,” Xiao’s face was dark, “Don’t touch her as you please.”

“Ehe,” Venti giggled as the adeptus held him by the collar.

Aether stood and sighed, gazing at the shocked woman. He turned, hearing footsteps behind him. Zhongli had found them and the remaining adepti trailed behind him. The eighth archon’s mouth was agape. She flung herself at Xiao, tackling him. Venti escaped the yaksha as the goddess fell ontop of him.

“Oi,” She grinned clutching onto him, “I think I even missed your shitty attitude, pretty boy.”

Xiao’s face was red as he grumbled, “Just shut up, space case.”

Zhongli clicked his tongue, impatient. He pulled the goddess off of the yaksha and embraced her. His sudden affection made her cheeks flush but she returned the hug. Zhongli’s arms tightened around her, fearful that he would wake up from a dream. After a few moments he released her only for the poor bright eyed goddess to be swarmed by the adepti.

She giggled as they each took turns showing her how much she was missed. Even as Cloud Retainer scolded her, the smile never left her face.

“What exactly happened to you anyways?” The female crane adepti grilled the goddess.

A nervous laugh escaped the young woman, “Well, I kept thinking about how my heart was restless. So I guess I kept walking. Eventually this strange darkness consumed me and I couldn’t go anywhere. It was as if all the evil gods I struck down were exacting their revenge. Some time ago, the void I was stuck in opened up a bit and I escaped but was forced into something even worse. There were terrible monsters and powerful beings who sought my abilities I guess. They mistook me as a new goddess and attacked me.”

Aether’s ears perked up. She was talking about the Abyss, he was sure of it. His heart hurt at the way she tried to mask the pain of the endeavor. She reminded him of Lumine a bit.

“So anyways,” She continued, “I ran again and got caught in this space. It wasn’t bad, but nothing happened. I mean nothing, I was actually stuck for real that time and the space seemed to shift around me even though I couldn’t move. Time didn’t pass and my thoughts came to a stop, too. Then I was forced out and I think I was falling? That blonde kid picked me up but I was weakened. Sorry I don’t remember much but that.”

“Forced out, hm..” Cloud Retainer seemed stuck in her thoughts.

“That’s not quite right,” The goddess sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “It’s more like it shattered? I think I fell with the pieces of it.”

“How strange,” Kaeya started, “It almost sounds like a domain.”

Zhongli nodded, “It does. Let’s not discuss this any further for now, it seems to be a painful topic.”

The celestial archon smiled gently at the geo archon, embracing him again. Zhongli stiffened but wrapped his arms around her again. Aether felt Xiao shift next to him, he glanced at the adeptus and had to restrain his laughter. He didn’t think the rough adeptus could ever pour, but there he was pouting.

After exchanging greetings and parting with Dvalin, the group headed back to Dawn Winery. Paimon had already taken a liking to the goddess of stars. Aether couldn’t blame the chubby fairy, the archon seemed oddly mortal to him. The other Archons carried themselves with grace and authority. The Celestial Archon was strangely human. Her appearance was godly and she did have a sort of divine aura to her but she was far more down to earth then even Venti.

“So why did you leave so suddenly?” Aether’s curious eyes met hers as they hiked back to the winery.

“I, uh, well the sun was calling to me.” A bashful smile formed on her lips.

Aether raised his eyebrows, “Calling to you?”

“Yeah,” her eyes were a bit distant, “It’s as if it was reminding me that the sun is a star, too. It willed me to bask in it I suppose.”

Paimon giggled at the archon’s clumsy wording. Aether pondered over what she said, thinking it was unique. Dawn Winery came into view and the traveler noticed that everybody else had returned. Chaos ensued at their arrival.

“Ahem,” Venti cleared his throat, “This is the eighth archon. The Celestial Archon, Seraphim. I call her supernova though cause she’s beautiful and destructive.”

“Hello! Let’s skip formalities, feel free to call me by my chosen name!” She introduced herself cheerfully.

Everybody chose to ignore Venti’s comment on the goddess being destructive. She was far too kind and gracious to be anything of that sort. Aether was the only one among them who noticed Venti’s words. They filled him with curiosity.

“I’m so hungry,” Paimon groaned.

“Oh, I missed food!” The bubbly goddess yelled, “Let’s eat! Can we eat?”

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The dining room was filled with chatter as they celebrated the arrival of the long lost archon. Paimon was stuffing her face as Venti chugged another bottle of dandelion wine, hiccuping. Diluc sighed as Kaeya poured another glass for himself with rosy cheeks. The scarlet haired man found himself looking for the celestial archon again. No matter how heard he tried to distract himself, his thoughts and eyes always found their way to her.

She was levitating above her seat, giggling as people brought her food to try. Xiao was uncharacteristically calm and looked happy even, as he fed her bits of almond tofu. Zhongli was smiling at her as she took sips of tea. The goddess picked up the small zombie girl and sat her in her lap, letting the child introduce “coco goat” milk to her. Things were going well overall.

Diluc watched as the kind hearted goddess set the child down and excused herself. She glided towards the terrace with a lingering sadness in her eyes. The esteemed Ragnvindr swiped the unopened bottle of dandelion his brother was reaching for and uncorked it. For a moment, the man was hesitant but his legs carried him to the open terrace anyways.

“Hello, Mister Diluc,” The goddess greeted him without turning to look at him.

“Pardon me,” He stopped at her side, “I don’t mean to intrude. This is a gift for you, Dawn Winery’s special.”

She glanced at him through her peripheral vision and held out her hand. He sighed and placed the bottle in her slender hand, watching her take a sip. She returned to staring at the stars above, sipping on the wine. The tycoon couldn’t help but stay by her side, seeing the look of longing she had. He felt that if he left her, she might just disappear again.

“It’s good,” She murmured, closing her eyes.

“Thank you,” Diluc tried to hold back the smile growing on his face, “I appreciate that you’re savoring it and not gulping it down like certain alcoholics.”

A snort escaped from the girl, “Barbatos the esteemed anemo archon and local alcoholic.”

Diluc snickered at her comment. She was so surreal. Everything about her felt dreamy, it was truly enchanting.

“I can leave you alone with your thoughts, I am deeply sorry if I disturbed you.” The man sighed and turned, but was stopped by her fingertips grazing his wrist.

“Diluc Ragnvindr, you are not a bother,” She sighed, “I am just a fool who would rather look for answers in constellations than face the reality before me. For me, not much time has passed since the Archon War. So you’ll have to forgive me if I seem cold, I simply am frustrated and depressed by the changes in Teyvat. I missed thousands of years and it will haunt me for a long while.”

Diluc’s jaw nearly hit the floor at the bluntness of the woman in front of him. He was empathetic to her situation, after distancing himself from everyone around him he had moments of sadness as well. He was also fascinated by her adoration for the stars.

“Do the stars give you answers?” He asked quietly.

She laughed, “Not always, but i’m able to read the constellations of an individual, even you Darknight Hero.”

“Oh, fucks sake that’s mortifying!” He groaned and then leaned in, “Wait. I have a constellation? How much do you know?”

“Your constellation is Noctua, and it’s fairly easy to read. I know that you pretend like everybody is bothering you at all times, because you don’t want to be disappointed again as your brother disappointed you after the loss of your father. You feel the need to be strong and never seen as weak, somewhere between inferiority complex and social anxiety.” Her words made his heart pound.

“But,” She continued smiling, “I understand. I also have daddy issues of sorts. And it often feels easier to put up those walls.”

Diluc was speechless. Their conversation was interrupted by clapping, as Kaeya made his way out of the shadows. Any vulnerability left Diluc at his brother’s entrance. He quickly exited the balcony seeing Kaeya’s smug expression.

“You are interesting,” his voice was almost sultry, “Tell me, what do you see from my constellation.”

The goddess gave him a sour look. She was quiet for a minute, eyes narrowed at the man. He waited, expectantly.

“Pavo Ocellus,” She sighed, “A complicated constellation. You do carry a heavy burden savior of Khaenri'ah. So much of you is shrouded in mystery, although that’s fitting isn’t it? I don’t know enough to see you as a threat, however your dishonest habits and constant tests you put people through seems irritating.”

“Oh, you’re bold,” He grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “Bold, beautiful, and busty. Just my type.”

“And you say things like that so casually,” She pushed his hand away, making her way back to the dining hall.

“Sir Kaeya, you should be careful saying such things. If you aren’t, somebody might fall for you. It’s like a honey trap. Give the wrong person the wrong idea and you’ll find yourself in a pinch.”

With that, she left the calvary captain alone with his thoughts. He was pulled in by her, but knew she was dangerous. His mind shifted back to Venti’s word earlier and he clicked his tongue. The bard may have been onto something.

When Kaeya returned to the banquet, the Celestial Archon was back to eating and being doted on. Xiao’s glare was locked in and targeted as Kaeya sat a short distance from the goddess. Kaeya merely winked at him, sticking his tongue out slightly. The yaksha’s hand flew to the spear by his side as he snarled at the cryo wielder. The goddess noticed the sudden change in the atmosphere and moved to the adepti’s lap. He blushed and scowled, but set his head on her shoulder.

The young woman’s affection towards Xiao didn’t go unnoticed and soon Zhongli was offering her tea while Venti offered her booze. Even Jean was attempting to seek some attention from the goddess. For once, Diluc and Kaeya had the same thought. That woman is troublesome.

[ghirahimbo]

beginnings

a non-specific take on how the Link and Ghirahim master/sword AU might come about. I probably won't post this one to ao3 yet in case I decide to use it in a story someday, but I liked it enough to put it here, at least :)

--

In the Sealed Grounds where the demon hordes had trampled the earth so recently in their violent rampage, the transition to silence was complete. The whistling chirp of birds, the buzz of insects… even the wind through the trees had gone deathly still, all caught up in breathless waiting. Only the pool of inky darkness at the center of Demise's broken prison seemed to breathe, pulsing slowly in and out with uneasy life. Small though it was compared to the spiraling pit containing it, the darkness pulled at the cloud-covered twilight as if its strength alone might dim it. Consume it.

At last, the dark pool recoiled in agitation, and from its churning depths emerged a boy in a green knight’s tunic that had certainly known more pristine days. Bloodied and bruised, yet swaying triumphantly as if standing itself was a triumph, Link stumbled out of the pit’s embrace, adjusting his wet hat to fit more firmly over the mess of hair still dripping from his watery battlefield. The sky above seemed to captivate him, and he craned his head back to stare at the darkened clouds, half in wonder, half in disbelief. Then the hilt of his sword flashed, and a shimmering blue woman emerged to float in front of him.

“Master,” she said, catching his attention. “With the defeat of the demon king Demise, there is a 95% chance that your friend Zelda has already regained consciousness.” Her voice softened almost imperceptibly. “I believe I can say with 100% certainty that she would like to know you are well.”

Link stared at her for another moment, scrubbing a hand over his mouth.

“Of course,” he murmured, and for the first time, he grinned. “Let’s go.”

Strengthened by his anticipation, Link broke into a limping run, eager to put the forsaken pit behind him—but before he could take more than a few steps, a new voice froze him in his tracks.

“Wait.”

Heart sinking like a rock, Link whirled around, one hand hovering warily over the hilt of his sword as a new figure emerged from the retreating darkness. Ghirahim’s skin glimmered like polished obsidian in the fading light, smooth and unmarred except for where fiery cracks split his chest, and a glowing diamond at its center pulsed an erratic, angry red. Cradled against his shattered core was an enormous black sword, its sharp edge not even scratching the skin where it rested against Ghirahim’s hardened arms.

Milky white eyes met tired blue in a silent clash, as if neither had the strength necessary to put words to their feud. Then, without warning, Ghirahim hefted his sword, driving it point first into the softened earth and falling to one knee before it.

“Take it.”

Link blinked, and took a wary step back.

“…What?”

“Take it.” Despite his clear exhaustion, Ghirahim’s voice had that same teasing bite to it as always, coupled now with impatience as he gestured towards the sword. “You defeated my old master Demise, which means his sword is yours to claim. Take it.”

Link stared at him, dumbfounded, and a slow smile curved across Ghirahim’s thin dark lips.

“Let me put it this way,” he said pleasantly. “This sword belongs to you whether you wish it so or not, but things will go much more… smoothly… if you take it now.”

Link shook his head as if to dismiss the notion, fixing Ghirahim with a glare.

“I already have a sword,” he said coldly, starting to turn aside, but this time a light chime from Fi made him stop.

“Master Link,” she said, her cool voice strangely gentle. “I’m afraid that I was not created to remain by your side forever. The demon king’s remaining essence is now sealed within my sword, to be carefully guarded until it is eradicated. The time of our parting will be soon.” She hesitated, and added, “Very soon.”

The first drops of rain began to fall, scattered and sparse. Link stared at Fi incredulously.

“You’re not saying I should trust him,” he said, not really a question, and Fi shook her head.

“Such judgments are not mine to make. I can only report that I sense no immediate intent to do harm from Lord Ghirahim, though whether he hopes to deceive you is less clear. Any further statements would be mere conjecture on my part.”

“Would you mind conjecting then?” Link asked, pursing his lips. After a moment, Fi nodded.

“Master Link…” Her words came with slow reluctance now. “Despite the foreordination of our partnership, I was still given the privilege of choosing you as my master. If what Ghirahim says is true and his sword has passed ownership from the demon king to you, I must surmise that he was not granted that same privilege of choosing Demise.”

“If what he says is true,” Link repeated, sparing another glare for the still-kneeling demon lord. Ghirahim had so far watched their exchange in enigmatic silence, not quite smiling, though he half raised an eyebrow at Link’s scowl. The steadily increasing rain slithered unnoticed in rivulets down his face, striking against his arms with short, metallic plinks.

“I stated that I could not discern whether he hopes to deceive you in some way, and this is true. However…” She paused in consideration. “I do sense a newfound connection between you and that sword, as well as between you and Lord Ghirahim himself. My opinion is that he is telling the truth, in this regard, at least.”

Link stared at her in dismay, and Ghirahim laughed softly.

“Your robotic guide is right, I’m afraid," he murmured. "I’ll have you know that you were not my first choice either, but I think we both know better than most how little control we have over the whims of destiny. Never in this sword’s history has it passed to a human, but it appears our thread of fate has some twists that even I could not predict.”

“There is no thread—“ Link started to say hotly, but let it go with a sigh. Even he could see how pointless finishing that sentence would be. “I suppose you come with the sword, then?”

“I am the sword,” Ghirahim said, his pale eyes glittering. Link paused only a second before nodding. After bearing Fi for so long, he understood how that worked, at least.

“If…” Link took a deep breath, glancing again at Fi. “If I take you with me… what’s to stop you from trying to kill me still?”

“I am physically incapable now of even harming you,” he said, and Link’s eyebrows shot up. A possibility much easier to disprove than prove, but…

“What about Zelda?” he demanded, and Ghirahim’s grin widened.

“On your orders, I would go so far as to guard her from harm, and catch her each time she stumbles,” he said smoothly. Link’s face darkened.

“What about—“

“Master, must we really go through every order that I will or will not obey?” Ghirahim cut him off irritably. “I will obey them all, insofar as I am able. Was it not the same with…?”

He gestured vaguely towards Fi, who looked at him.

“Fi is the designation I was given,” she said, prompting a tight grin.

“Wonderful! I didn’t need or desire to know that.”

“Wait,” Link interjected, his mind spinning slightly. “...You called me master.”

“Is he this slow all the time?” Ghirahim asked Fi incredulously. “How do you put up with it?”

Link let the insult slide, still reeling as he tried to gather his thoughts. Would Ghirahim really debase himself so far just for a chance at revenge? There were other, easier ways to go about it if that was his aim, ways involving less personal humiliation. Fi thought he was telling the truth—about some things, at least—which maybe meant…

“What am I supposed to do with that sword, anyway?” Link said abruptly. “It’s too big for me to even…”

The protest died in Link’s throat as for the first time he really looked at the sword, and licked his lips. Without his noticing, the sword had shrunk in size, though it managed to appear no less menacing despite that. If Link were to hold up his Master Sword in comparison, he doubted that there would be a hair’s difference in length.

“I told you,” Ghirahim said, and Link had to fight down a shiver that he told himself was from the rain. “My sword belongs to you now, Link. Take it.”

Once more he looked at Fi, silently questioning, but if she had an opinion on the matter her blank face gave no voice to it.

“Zelda is waiting for you,” was all she said… and somehow, that was enough.

“Fine,” Link sighed reluctantly. He didn't want to find out at that moment how Ghirahim might try to force him if he refused, and Fi was right. It was time to go. “I accept your sword.”

Trudging forward, Link grabbed it by the hilt, thinking that if worse came to worst, he could still throw it off a cliff somewhere—and felt a terribly familiar warmth surge through his palms as he pulled it free, traveling up his arms to settle somewhere in his chest. A tightness fell from Ghirahim’s face that Link hadn’t noticed until that moment, and he bowed his head forward, pressing a hand delicately against his mangled chest.

“The bonding process is now complete, master,” he said, and despite the formality of his words he had a mocking twist to his lips. “Link… my master.”

Thunder boomed overhead as lightning forked viciously across the sky, the rain falling down in sheets. Link, staring at his own black sword, noticed none of it.

[frostmarris]

Jailbreak

KakaSaku, KisaSaku, ShikaSaku - Fantasy Au

summary: A witch, a knight, a dog trainer, and an apprentice mage. Great minds think alike.

notes: gift fic for petrikore for the Sakura Haruno discord server's 6 month anniversary exchange!

there's uh,,, a lot more lore and world building that I thought up that I didn't end up including in the fic lol. Maybe I'll continue one day?

Enjoy!

: :

The hall is silent except for the crackling of flames and the whispers of onlookers. The torches perched equidistant along the polished stone walls of the grand hall hold their flickering fires behind fine metal cages, twisting and curled in elegant loops that glow red when kissed by the flames. The court is full, fine silks and satins and lace and pearls crowded together between the towering columns that lined either side of the main path from the entrance to the throne. The noblemen and women keep clear of wide path, necks craving to see over each other and the occasional muffled tap of tailored shoes against marble floor joining the crackling and whispers. Royal guards are placed periodically down the sides of the wide walkway to hold the line, either to keep the members of the court back or to protect them from something else.

All eyes are on the pair of grand doors opposite of the throne, the carved wood aged but well-maintained and the metal lining reflecting the light of the torches. Dancing shadows are cast over the painted carvings of forest creatures - foxes chasing rabbits, a mother doe grazing with a fawn, wolves running as a pack, birds soaring overhead, a hunting party on horseback following a lone stag. In the center, standing atop a green hill, every blade of grass meticulously carved, is a white silhouette of a strange beast - the single horn in the center of its forehead pointing to the heavens and touching a fallen star. The paint and carvings mimic the light radiating from the star, stretching out over the other creatures and bathing them in its ethereal glow.

A chorus of footfalls grows steadily louder from behind the carved wood and the whispers fall silent, leaving only the crackling flames to accompany the low groan of the old doors as the unicorn is split in twain.

The metallic ringing of armor scraping against armor and the sturdy thuds of leather boots against the marble floor soon drowned out the flames, but the entourage of royal guardsmen is ignored in favor of the woman  trapped in the center of the pack. Two men stand on either side of her, just a step behind, with their hands on their hilted swords and their keen gazes never leaving her profile. Ahead of her walks the Captain, holding the iron chain attached to the heavy shackles encompassing her delicate wrists.

Her skin is rubbed red and raw under the sharp edges of the cuffs and her gown is torn and stained along the hem. A long sleeve ripped up to her bicep and a straight scratch along her left cheek, but she might as well have been dressed in all the finery and jewels of a queen with how the court stares in awe. 

She radiates… something. 

Something unseen and powerful and glorious that has breaths caught in lungs and eyes unblinking as she strides forward, the chain slack and her back straight. She stands with all the power and regal air of a royal lady of the court, as if she were here as a guest rather than a prisoner in chains. 

The deep green of her gown, velvet and hemmed with silver threads, sweeps over the marble like a curtain of moss, silent compared to the footsteps of the soldiers. Beaded starlight dappled lightly over her skirt gathers together in larger clusters towards the bottom hem, gradient of silver and white sparkles that catch the crackling flames with every movement. Her skirt trails behind her, tattered and torn, and the guardsmen take care not to step on it. 

They keep a wary distance from the woman, even though they must remain close - as if afraid to touch any part of her.

Hair the color of flowers only found in the royal garden cascades down the open back of her dress, brushing over unmarred skin and twisting in loose curls. Her head is held high and remains facing forward even as her eyes pass over the awed faces of the court. Eyes like the emeralds lining the King's crown and a face that is both hard edges and gentle curves, her stern expression unwavering and the smallest downward tilt to pink lips is the only inclination to her thoughts as she is led towards the raised dais of the throne.

The guardsmen and their charge stop at the first step of the platform and the hall falls silent once more, except for the soft rustling of fabric as the King shifts in his throne. Hard, aged, brown eyes stare into sharp green and the hall is filled with bated breaths, no person daring to speak or draw breath too loudly lest they draw the ire of either the King or the woman.

She stands tall and unwavering, refusing to break her gaze from the King's. Neither of them speak and the tension in the air grows heavy and thick, the crackling of the flames falling to a soft hush as well.

Then, her eyes flicker upwards and green-stained fingertips curl as her hands fist against the fabric of her gown.

The flames lick and rage against their delicate metal cages, growing bigger and brighter and hotter as her gaze falls on the single opalescent, spiraling horn mounted at the top of the King's throne, the jagged ivory base still stained red.

: :

Kakashi sees a ruby. 

It is placed in the center of her forehead, pressed into her skin rather than the metal of a circlet or crown, and it catches the flickering flames of the torches as she passes by.

The Guardian of the Forest, he'd heard them call her - a strange woman inhabiting the mysterious woods just at the edge of the King's claimed land. She kept the creatures of the forest safe, allowing neither hunter nor soldier to enter and discover its secrets. Tales of magical beasts mingling among common animals and an ethereal being dressed in leaves and moss who wandered its hidden paths.

They were bedtime stories and lullabies that all children who lived near the woods grew up hearing, their dreams filled with creatures of legend and fae that would whisk you away into the darkness if you walked too close to those tall, tall trees.

He couldn't recall any mention of pink hair and eyes like green fire, however.

Kakashi stands at the edge of the crowded court, one of his hounds sitting obediently his side while he stands mesmerized, catching glimpses of the strange woman as she is led towards the throne. 

He rarely ventured inside the castle anymore, preferring to spend his time in the kennels where he trained and tended to the royal hunting dogs. He'd had his fill of the court and politics and retired some years ago from his position as the Captain of the Guard. No more bloodshed, no more fighting - Kakashi had seen enough battles and men dying to fill several lifetimes.

Now, he took his place as the kennel master, making sure the hounds were kept happy and healthy between hunts and training pups for their eventual roles in the King's hunting parties. He spent a fair amount of time in the woods, but specifically those near the castle that were used for game and sport. Occasionally he ventured to other forests where townsfolk and noblemen hunted for their meals, but never to the great forest to the West, where white stags and black wolves and something otherworldly roamed.

Kakashi had been checking up on an order for new leather leads for the pack when he'd heard the whispers amongst the castle servants.

"A strange woman in chains caught by soldiers."

"A witch was being bought to the castle."

"The Guardian of the Forest had been captured."

So, he'd slipped into the throne room and kept to the edges of the great hall like many other curious members of the palace staff, unable to resist.

And he sees the woman, standing so tall and strong despite how the shackles dwarf her wrists and she barely reaches the shoulder of the guard next to her, soft and lovely and out of place in the court, and Kakashi insists to himself that there must be some mistake.

But then his hound whines and cowers and the flames lick at the metal cages of the torches, nearly grazing him as they seem to reach out in their rage, and the air grows cold, heavy and thick in his lungs.

And he knows that a mistake has been made, dire and dreadful.

: :

Kisame sees a sapphire.

It reminds him of his homeland, where the sea met the land and great waves crashed against towering cliffsides, carving back the rock and stone as it tried to reclaim what had once been under its care. Ocean spray and salt on his tongue, weathering his skin well before calluses and scars from training and combat. His gaze reading the horizon and tides and stars and the grand forests to the West only a legend for the children of seafarers and fishermen. 

He'd always wanted to see those green, green woods and trees as tall as cliffs, even though his heart sang for the water and seafoam. 

Kisame trained and worked and eventually found his place in the castle guard for the royal palace itself, his ocean home and those rocky shoals seen now only in his dreams. His heart yearned for both the sea and the woods he'd yet to witness, caught between both and unable to choose whether to return or venture onwards.

Now head of the King's personal guard, he dreams of both the past and the future - of before and more.

The Lady of the Woods, he'd heard whispered. 

First as a story-creature when he was a child - a magical woman who'd never seen the ocean or horizon or sky, only trees and their reaching arms that hid away the stars and clouds with their canopies of leaves and vines. A being that spoke to the forest and bade the plants to follow her commands. Both a prisoner and a warden, where life was so unlike that of the coast and the inhabitants sounded alien and strange.

And now again, as he stands at his post to the right of the dais, armor glinting under the flames and his hand resting at his side, always just a moment away from reaching for his sword.

Kisame sees her as the grand doors open and the procession of guardsmen enter and his heart stops.

He sees the sunsets over the horizon that he misses, pink and lovely and breathtaking, and the greens of the great forest he yearns to see, cloaking a body with pale skin that had never known ocean spray or the harsh coastal sun.

Her eyes are more green than any leaf and they travel over the staring faces as she passes, unreadable and intense. The sapphire in the center of her forehead seems out of place amongst the greens of her eyes and gown and fingertips and the pinks of her hair and lashes and lips and Kisame stares like everyone else, something thrumming in his chest and in his ears.

Her eyes meet his own and he takes the smallest, sharpest breath, holding her gaze for what feels like hours, but he knows is only an instant, before her attention is turned to the King. Her anger is palpable and sweat beads at the nape of his neck and he doesn't dare take his eyes off of her.

Kisame is privy to more information than most, as he is always at his King's side, and he knows this woman has been brought here for heinous crimes - murder of soldiers, destruction of royal property, defiance against the King's will - but he finds himself unable to believe it.

She seems so delicate and frail, despite the strength behind her gaze. How could one small - lovely, beautiful, otherworldly - woman destroy an entire battalion? How could this woman have possibly uprooted a small fortress and crushed stone into rubble?

And then her gaze moves away from the king and to the horn mounted overhead and Kisame feels a chill unlike anything he's experienced in years.

The bite of ice in his veins and the suffocating pressure of water and drowning, no air left in his lungs and his heart heavy in his chest. 

His hand is on his sword before he even realizes it and he's stepped forward, just the same as all the guards and soldiers present. The flames behind him grow wild and unruly, but he feels no heat from their lashing tongues. 

Kisame's hand is on his blade but he can find no true desire to draw it, lost as he is in the Lady's gaze.

: :

Shikamaru sees an onyx.

He'd been restless all morning, a heavy pressure at the back of his skull and an unsettling feeling under his skin. He knew what would be happening today, had known for the week leading up to it, but he had no idea what to expect. And not knowing is one of his least favorite feelings. 

The Witch of the Moors.

She was a legend - an enchantress, a sorceress, a shapeshifter - who had only ever been glimpsed through trees and branches of those daring few who entered her woods. Ruby hair, onyx eyes, golden hair, topaz eyes, diamonds and sapphires and pearls and emeralds and so many conflicting stories that encompassed years and years and years. Wearing the forest like a gowns and cloaks and hallowed by starlight, the very earth listened to her command and the creatures of the forest both feared and adored her.

She wasn't supposed to be real.

If anything, it was just some reclusive witch hiding in the great forest to the West, driving away people who tried to enter.

But then the King had taken a hunting party to the forest and returned with the most glorious trophy, exposing his sins to anyone who looked upon the opalescent horn he'd mounted.

Shikamaru had been on edge ever since he'd seen the horn, still bloody and shining though slowly dimming as the King laughed and regaled his grand story. He'd wanted to leave, to lock himself away in his study and beg for forgiveness as he knew there would be dire consequences. But his teacher had a place on the King's council and, as his apprentice, Shikamaru must remain at his side. To learn and listen so that one day he'd be able to take his place as a royal advisor and mage to the King.

His fingertips were numb and his shadows restless, flickering at the edges and twisting underfoot as he stood perfectly still, hands clasped behind his back and his expression tired and every fibre of his being screaming for him to run.

The first omen came the next morning, a dark storm reaching across the sky like a clawed hand, the castle its final mark. Reports claimed that the storm stretched across miles and miles, no break in the black and charcoal clouds. Lightning crackled just under the surface, never striking the ground but filling the air with static and energy.

The storm originated from the great forest, with its massive trees and otherworldly legends, and reached all the way across the kingdom for the King himself.

He had the horn mounted to his throne that evening.

And during the night, he claimed someone - some thing - had slipped into his bedchamber and tried to kill him.

(Reports from the guards claimed that they had rushed to the King's chamber at the sound of his screams, to find him waking from a nightmare and a manic look in his gaze.)

The next day, he sent a small battalion of soldiers to the forest. 

Only one man returned, half dead upon his horse with reports of a bloodbath and screams and a witch standing on the rubble of what had once been an ancient watchtower.

The King consulted his mages and magical advisors and they came back with a potion, iron shackles, and a plan.

And now the Witch of the Moors had been brought to the castle to answer for her crimes and, again, all Shikamaru wanted was to run away.

The air is electrifying in the hall well before the doors finally open, the hair on his arms standing on edge but no one else seeming to notice the unrest in the atmosphere. Shikamaru stands to the left of the dais, at the back of the council and behind his teacher but with a clear view of the path to the throne.

The grand doors open and his blood sings.

A powerful force rushes through his veins, both chilling and burning all at once, and he hasn't seen her yet but he k nows she is there. There are whispers and hushed voices calling feather-soft into his ears, drawing patterns against his bare skin under his clothing and making him tense. His shadows writhe and twist and it's the only movement from him as he finds himself standing frozen-still, gaze straining as he waits for her to come into view.

Shikamaru finally, finally, sees petal-pink hair, green eyes brighter than any gem, and an onyx stone in the center of her forehead and he tries and fails to breathe.

Something is so terrible wrong and he can tell that his teacher feels it now as well as he tenses and inhales sharply through his teeth, but Shikamaru doesn't dare look away from the woman - he never wants to look away.

He feels her anger under his skin and in his veins and he knows she has every right to tear the castle itself down around them and rip apart anyone who stands in her way. He knows the only crime committed has been against her and, then and there, he resigns himself to whatever destruction she desires and knows that he will be leaving the castle by daybreak.

The flames roar and scream and rage and after things are calmed to simmering rather than overboiling and the woman is led away in her iron shackles, three minds simultaneously come to the same conclusion.

Tonight is the only night she will spend as a prisoner.

: :

Kisame brings her food.

He swipes the meal meant for her from one of the prison guards to hand-deliver it himself, using his authority as the head of the King's personal guard and claiming he wants a closer look at the witch, sharp steel in his gaze and his jaw tense.

The hardness of his expression melts away as he faces the door to her cell, high up in one of the tallest towers and far away from earth and soil. He meets her with a hushed voice and light steps as he enters, finding her still shackled at the wrist and kneeling at the far edge of the dark room. There is a single hole high above her, allowing a single ray of light from the setting sun to enter the cell.

She pauses in the midst of singing in a language Kisame doesn't understand and looks up at him, those emerald eyes practically glowing in the dark.

He carefully approaches her and slowly lowers to one knee, setting the food in front of her. Though her meal had originally only consisted of stale bread and water, he'd added a few fresh pieces of fruit that he'd swiped from the kitchen to the platter.

She meets his gaze and Kisame feels as if she is staring into his very soul, reading every thread of his being and slowly taking him apart, piece by piece.

And then her stern, indecipherable expression melts away and she offers him a near-smile, reaching out to touch his arm with her cuffed hands. He's never felt such soft skin against his own and he freezes, breath caught again before he bows his head in reverence and promises his return. Kisame unwillingly backs out of the cell and and doesn't look away from her until the door is closed.

He swipes the spare ring of keys mounted at the guard station after passing the original back to the prison guard, already making plans for a pair of horses and supplies.

: :

Kakashi brings her a blanket.

It's old and from his own home, so he's inwardly apologetic for any lingering dog-smells, but he would rather she have something of his than something belonging to the castle. 

It's still fairly early in the evening and he distracts the prison guards with Pakkun, the small dog grabbing their attention as he makes off with someone's coinbag and they chase after him. Kakashi slips through the shadows, unseen and unnoticed and well practiced at getting where he wants to go without being spotted.

He curses as he finds the spare ring of keys missing from its usual spot in the guard station and resigns himself to picking the lock, using skills that have gone unused for some years.

The sound of muffled singing stops just as he manages to unlock the latch and carefully push the door open.

She's kneeling in front of the far wall, hair he longs to touch and run through his fingers cascading down her shoulders as she watches him warily. Still slightly crouched, Kakashi stares at her for a long moment, forgetting why he'd come, before he's startled by a soft bark in the distance.

Pulled from his reverie, Kakashi glances over his shoulder before silently slipping into the cell. Her eyes narrow and he holds up his hands as a show of peace, smiling behind the cloth covering the lower half of his face. Green eyes stare and stare and he holds his breath for almost too long, relaxing when she finally seems to find what she's searching for in his gaze.

Kakashi speaks, softly and lightly and her tense shoulders lower, her head tilting and sending those soft tresses in further waves down her arm as he procures the blanket from under his belt. He holds it out to her and she hesitantly reaches for it, his boot brushing an apple core as he takes another crouched step forwards.

Soft, delicate hands touch his rough, weathered fingers and she gives him the smallest smile as she accepts his gift.

His heart is pounding in his chest and he nearly lets out a small laugh, but then he hears more barking in the distance, grimacing behind his mask. Kakashi promises to return and slips back out of the cell, listening to the click of the lock and casting the door one last look before disappearing into the shadows.

: :

Shikamaru brings her a candle.

He stashes it away in his pocket and heads towards the tower used as a secondary prison with a lie on his tongue and conviction in his veins. He claims that the other mages sent him to see the witch, showing off a vial filled with shimmering black liquid that, in reality, is just metal shavings and ink. 

He's led to her cell and watches as the door is unlocked for him, one of his shadows slipping into that of the prison guard to inspect the key as he enters the dark room, the sound of singing suddenly stopping. The sun has set and the sky has been dark for some time now, with the only light coming from the torches lining the hall outside the cell doors. The guard places a torch temporarily in one of the wall sconces and closes the door behind him, leaving Shikamaru with the woman.

She's bundled under a blanket and watching him with curiosity, something tickling the edges of his awareness and making him shiver, a buzz of energy under his skin. He stands there for a moment, holding her gaze, before walking forward and slowly dropping to his knees in front of her. Removing the candlestick from his pocket, Shikamaru gathers some of the energy in the air into his hand and passes his fingers over the wick, a flame lighting to life and flickering between them. The light dances across her face, catching in her eyes and the onyx on her forehead, and he waits with bated breath.

Then she chuckles and Shikamaru finds himself smiling, holding reaching to her left and using some of the melted wax to anchor the candle to the stone floor. When he looks back up at her, he's caught off guard by warm lips on his forehead and a spark of energy that rushes through him and makes his hair stand on end, his blood racing and roaring.

With hushed whispers, Shimamaru promises to return, retrieves the torch from the wall of the cell, and returns to his room to pack only the most important of his possessions.

: :

The next evening, after a tense day full of anxious thoughts and restless bodies, the commander of the King's personal guard, the kennel master, and the apprentice mage return to the prison tower.

Kisame and Kakashi arrive at the same door at the same moment.

They balk at each other, both searching for their next course of action and unwilling to harm each other. Kinda-sorta-friends and all that.

"Commander Hoshigaki…" Kakashi says, shuffling awkwardly with his lockpick hidden behind his back.

"Hatake…" Kisame answers back, just as stiff and tense.

A long stretch of silence passes between the men, muffled singing heard from behind the door next to them, and Kisame just barely shifts, the ring of keys hidden under his coat jingling at the movement and slipping out of their place in the picket he'd hurriedly stuffed them into. They hit the ground with a dull thud and both men look down, sweat beading on Kisame's brow as Kakashi’s eyes widen.

The knight grimaced, wondering if it would be quieter to knock him out by punching him in the face and knocking his head against the wall.

"...So that's where the spare keys went." Kakashi mumbles after a moment and Kisame's confusion is just long enough for the silver haired kennel master to sheepishly hold up his lockpicking tool and let out a nervous laugh.

Kisame opens his mouth to speak but is too dumbfounded to find words. They both silently shuffle their feet for a moment before a tired groan from the shadows has both men suddenly turning towards the source, a sword raised and a knife in hand within seconds.

Shikamaru steps out of the shadows, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and holding up the copy-key he'd made with the other. 

"Man, did we all have the same jailbreak idea..?"

The three would-be rescuers all stare at each other for a moment, Kisame resheathing his sword and Kakashi slipping his blade back into its spot on his belt as there's a chorus of awkward grunts and murmurs.

"One horse or two..?" Shikamaru asked after a moment, looking up at the much-taller Kisame. He'd only been able to get a single stallion, since he rarely left the castle anyways, and he doubted Commander Hoshigaki would be as unlucky.

"Two," Kisame admits, scratching at his cheek. "I've, uh, got them saddled and ready over by the West wall."

Shikamaru nods in approval but then Kakashi lets out a tired chuckle.

"Cart for me."

At their stares he sighs and shrugs.

"I've got dogs I'm taking with me, alright?"

The air is eerily quiet for a moment as the three men discuss their plans in hushed tones before Shikamaru suddenly tenses, static under his fingers as he sends the door a startled look.

All at once there's a rumble and a crash, the ground shaking and the sound of thunder filling their ears, coming from behind the cell door. The three men share startled looks before scrambling forward to unlock the door, a rush of fresh air meeting them the moment they throw it open.

The far wall of the cell has been blown apart, tree roots and branches digging into the floor and reaching into the room while the light of the moon dappled the darkness through the leaves. 

Kneeling on the thick roots with one leg outside of the tower is the witch, who looks back at the men for a long moment. Then, she grins, waves, and hops off the ledge, sliding down the length of a massive tree that had reached up toward the tower, branches and leaves curling away from her as she makes her escape.

Kakashi, Kisame, and Shikamaru stare at the place she'd been for a long moment before the latter finally speaks up.

"S-so, uh… do we follow her or take the stairs..?"

[cherrywoes]

ii. the girl in the foxes' den.

chapter two. heads for pikes.

The orphanage was a quaint little thing just on the borders of Shiratorizawa. Surrounded by a small lake dotted with water lilies, lily pads, and other winter resistant flowers that were the staple of your kingdom, it was perhaps the epitome of homeliness—what your brother aspired for the rest of his kingdom during his reign, a peacefulness that couldn’t be broken.

You had played at the lake as children, of course, when your father would sneak the both of you out of your mother’s insufferable tutoring lessons to mingle with the common folk. “To grow and learn,” he had said, but all you had learned was that people only believed in themselves, lived for themselves, and died for themselves. With the exception of Wakatoshi, maybe, you knew that the commoners were just as cutthroat as any other noble; just as worse, perhaps, or more so. You’d witnessed people, more than once, slit throats over the barest crumb of bread, and there was plenty to go around—and that was just amongst nobles.

Shiratorizawa prided itself upon strength and superiority, but that could only get you so far when you couldn’t even trust your neighbors not to stab you in the back.

“Wakatoshi can change that,” you mumbled to yourself. The smell of horse sweat, tangy and distinctly equine, assailed your nostrils; a comforting smell, despite how unappealing it sounded. You’d spent most of your life training or riding horses, after all, and paid quite a lot of attention to them when you weren’t busy wrangling disrespectful court women. Your mare nickered softly the closer you drew to the orphanage, where a singular crowd of children and a nun stood waiting for you to go to them. “Is it just me, or are there more orphans than before? Goshiki?”

The Elite Knight in question swallowed and swerved his head to pay attention to you. He, and another Knight, Semi Eita, had caught up to you as you were exiting the main wall that separated the main city from the palace. You recognized them as Wakatoshi’s close friends, nobles sworn into his personal circle after he was crowned King. They were never far from your brother’s side, so you had to wonder why he left them behind when he could have taken them with him. Tendou was far from the most physically capable man; his eagle form was much more sturdy in terms of battle.

“It makes sense,” Semi said instead, before Goshiki could stutter out an answer. He, like Goshiki, wore the same purple-tinged armor and sweeping crushed velvet cape. You’d found the whole ensemble ridiculous, right down to the plumage on their helms, but Wakatoshi was a stickler for tradition, at least in the uniform’s sense. “A lot of the commoners have come down with a sickness lately. Tracking down the source has been a pain; a lot of them died before we could get to them with a healer in time.”

You frowned, a distinct line on your face. Wakatoshi had always said you had a very foreboding frown, whatever that meant. “Why wasn’t I informed of this?”

Semi shrugged. You were tempted to kick him off his horse and drag him down into the grass to strangle him for shrugging at you. You didn’t know what Wakatoshi let him get away with, but you hated people you weren’t close with acting casual towards you. It was one of your worst pet peeves, besides girls trying to play Queen, and you were sure your glare was enough to smelt steel if you tried hard enough.

“It wasn’t your place then,” he explained, tugging the reigns to veer around a slab of stone depicting the orphanage’s name. “King Ushijima was adamant that you have no part in it so as to prevent you from catching the illness.”

“And?” With a huff and a subtle side-eye, you watched him move back into place at your flank, staring straight ahead and cleverly avoiding your gaze. “Illness is no issue for me. I am an Ushijima—I don’t get sick.”

And that was true; besides small sicknesses like seasonal allergies or colds, you were invulnerable to everything else. Even poisons, to an extent, as long as they were ones you had been exposed to previously in small amounts. Though you hadn’t gained your eagle form just yet, you had the immunity of a shifter, which your brother found endlessly perplexing. You were grateful for it: it kept you from dying so easily at the hands of an assassin, if it ever came to that. You had been trained well enough to be a deadly opponent since you couldn’t shift, not that anyone except Wakatoshi and your mother knew that. The nobles would have heart attacks if they knew their princess could disarm a man faster than she could finish a single stitch of embroidery.

“He didn’t want to risk it, my lady.” Semi reached up and adjusted the pin of his cloak from poking into the gap between his chain mail and pauldron. “That’s all.”

Your lips drew into a thin line, but you quickly found yourself without time to retort as children swarmed your mare. You squeezed your legs against her sides in warning and carefully dismounted, narrowly avoiding swinging your boot into a poor child’s head when he refused to move out of your way. Goshiki took your hand to allow you to get to the ground without falling and you gave him a grateful nod when another child went straight for your knees to grab ahold of you.

“Children!” The nun scolded, bustling forward with a shiny red face. Her robes looked particularly suffocating in the heat as she began rerouting them all into the tiny group that had been around her previously, giving each one a specific and deliberate warning that perhaps went over deaf ears. She looked at you, an apology in her eyes, although it was eclipsed by the intense dislikement that came from your presence specifically. “Crown Princess [Name]. I was not aware of your visit until early this morning. I’m afraid we aren’t prepared for you at this time.”

You smiled bitterly. You had expected this, of course; nuns, specifically this nun, had an extreme hatred for you whether you were kind to them or not. It all stemmed from one little fact: you were not your mother. They saw you as weak, as prime pickings when Wakatoshi was away. It was a common perception, the same one you had concocted with your brother, and while you were keen on keeping it up for the time being, it didn’t mean you didn’t feel some measure of irritation at being unable to freely express yourself around others. Because you played the docile, meek princess locked away in the castle, you had no true way of earning power except through deception. And that was what you had intended—there was more power in the dark than the light.

“That’s quite alright,” you replied soothingly, using the sweetest tone you could muster. You opened your saddlebag and produced a bag of gold—ones, ironically, with your face on them to be petty—to hand over to the nun. She looked at you questioningly, the weight heavier than she was used to getting from you or any royal, and squeezed the pouch thoughtfully. “To buy the children new clothes for the upcoming winter—extra for more food, since there are more than before, I hear?”

“Yes, your majesty.” The woman tucked the pouch away into her robes. You made a mental note to tell the local seamstress and hunters to make sure she only bought furs and shoes for the children—you didn’t trust anyone in positions of religious institutions as far as you could throw them. And that wasn’t very far. “Is there anything… else you needed?”

“No. I came to—” Your eyes caught on a woman lingering at the edge of the crowd of children, dressed in rags. She was fairly petite, blonde of hair, and looked completely out of place in Shiratorizawa as a whole, where brown hair and black hair was most common. She stuck out as much as Tendou did with his red hair. “Who is that?”

The nun turned to see who you were looking at. You were surprised to see disgust crawl over her features, more potent than if it had been aimed at you. “Oh, that’s a refugee from Karasuno—the neighboring Empire to Nekoma. She says while the King and his advisor are away, some other kingdom stormed their castle, raided their lands, and now hold their capital ransom until King Sawamura returns.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. Wakatoshi’s aides hadn’t notified you of this. And judging by the alarmed looks on Semi and Goshiki’s faces, they hadn’t known either, which meant this was a very recent occupation, or someone had swept under their noses, past their borders, and invaded Karasuno without so much as a warning. And any kingdom who could be that discreet, that sly, was worth keeping a very close eye on.

“I see.” You forced your features to be more sympathetic, bringing your hand up to your cheek in faux thought. You might have even tried to cry if it wouldn’t have seemed so fake. “Well, she can’t just stay at the orphanage—what is her name?”

The nun shrugged, disgruntled, and waved for the woman. “You! Come here.”

The blonde haired woman startled, looking towards them with wide eyes. Her gaze darted between Semi and Goshiki with their armor and then finally settled on you, dressed less than princess-like, and the tiara on your head that you’d thrown on when you found it in your saddlebag before you left. It was, luckily, made with black pearls and onyx, so it fit well with your outfit and didn’t look too out of place.

“Your majesty,” she whispered when she drew near enough. Her feet were calloused from miles of walking, raw from running over craggy peaks and sharp cliff faces that separated Karasuno from Shiratorizawa, a feat in its own right. Blood still seeped from open cracks in her heels and dripped into the sand, turning it a deep red. Though her face was dirty, smeared with dirt and dried mud that hadn’t been cleaned, she was pretty underneath it all—and very clearly of some nobility. Her features were too aristocratic to be anything else, a bastard maybe, but clearly noble. When she curtsied, you noted the practiced ease and near perfect posture even with infected wounds and wounded feet. “I apologize for my appearance—”

“No need.” You held up your hands and reached over to straighten her. Gravel rolled beneath her heels and she shifted, sending a waft of sweat, days old blood, and what you could barely say was stale perfume towards you. You had to blink to keep your eyes from watering at the pungent scent; so as not to humiliate her, you smiled, though you had a hard time blinking the water from your eyes. “You are nobility, yes?”

The nun looked over, alarmed, but the girl was already nodding her head in a reluctant affirmative.

You stepped back and between Semi and Goshiki in thought. Her presence could easily be taken as an offense; she was here without invitation, despite her empire being occupied, and living in squalor at the orphanage, unbecoming of a noble, especially a woman. But she could also be a valuable asset: she was a well of knowledge about Karasuno and the current political situation. If you could wheedle enough information out of her, you would be able to yank Karasuno right out from under the invaders’ noses and instill Shiratorizawa rule, but you knew it wouldn’t be that easy—there was an edge in her gaze that spoke of a cleverness. She wouldn’t release her secrets so easily.

“Well, then.” You scanned her up and down and pursed your lips. “We can’t leave you here, Lady…?”

“Yachi.” She shifted uncomfortably. “Yachi Hitoka.”

“Yachi Hitoka,” you amended, the name foreign on your tongue but vaguely familiar. A family name you had heard before, perhaps in your studies. You would make sure to crack open the records whenever you returned back to the palace. “You can’t stay here. Return with me to the palace and we’ll see to getting you a bath and some food… Unless you would rather stay here?”

“Thank you, your majesty.” Yachi’s voice was quiet, but there was gratitude there—step one complete.

You smiled and turned to your horse. Semi knelt down and allowed you to step into his hands to settle your leg over the saddle, hooking your foot in the stirrup when you were settled. The mare tossed her head with a snort, eager to get going, and you patted her neck gently. You jerked your head towards Goshiki—the one least likely to say something rude about her smell—when you spoke to Yachi again. “You’ll ride with Goshiki. His horse is the gentlest, which will be better on your wounds in the long run. I wouldn’t want you to rip open the ones that have already healed.”

Yachi nodded. “Thank you, your majesty.”

You waited for her to mount with the help of Goshiki, watching as she struggled to support herself on hurt feet. He allowed her to sit in front of him rather than behind, even though, to your amusement, it made his face burn a bright red, so she wouldn’t fall off as easily. Semi snorted beside you at his babbled explanation and Yachi seemed to notice, her face flushing—you wondered if she also had a fever—and dropped her head to avoid your gaze.

You turned your head and nodded to the nun in silent farewell, turning your horse and heading back the way you came. You tried to keep quiet, to not pester her with questions, but your curiosity won out.

“So, Lady Yachi,” you called, looking over at her from your horse,”what banners did these… invaders fly with their troops?”

She looked uncomfortable at the memory, but answered,”None, your majesty. A banner with a black field was all I saw.”

“I see.” That made no sense. Any organized army with enough might to siege an empire could only be another kingdom or empire; none that you knew employed a plain black field upon their banner except for Karasuno and Nekoma themselves, and you knew Nekoma didn’t have the capacity to invade and occupy another empire without aid from another. No, this was something different—a mercenary group, perhaps? But that made no sense, either. “And did anyone else escape as you did?”

“I… I’m not sure, your majesty.” Yachi took on a look of genuine anguish at the thought and you had to pity her just a little. “But if they did, they wouldn’t have risked Shiratorizawa as I did—perhaps Nekoma, or Aoba Johsai.”

Yes, those two were indeed more likely. No one would want to brave the cliffs and hills that made up Shiratorizawa; they were made for eagle shifters and those who knew the terrain well enough not to fall to their deaths. It was dangerous for any other to go through them, which was all the more suspicious now that an army had seemingly snuck through without anyone noticing. You would have to dig deeper into this—and worm your way into Wakatoshi’s advisor’s good graces, too.

“Hmm.” You scratched your chin. “Semi, when we return, assemble a small group of men and head to Nekoma and then Aoba Johsai to search for survivors. Get their stories; I’m concerned about this new militant force, whoever it is. They could target Shiratorizawa next.”

“W-wait!” Yachi made Goshiki shove his horse forward. You raised an eyebrow at her inquisitively. “If you can—can you see if my friends made it out? You can’t miss one of them, he has orange hair, and is short—”

You looked to Semi for confirmation. It was his squadron he would likely be sending out; it was his choice. You had no interest in her friends, even if they were survivors. You just wanted their stories. When he nodded subtly, you inclined your head and looked back to Yachi. “Very well. They will look—but they will not hunt them down. That’s the best I can offer you, Yachi. I apologize.”

“That’s alright.” She smiled, a pathetic, weary thing. “It means a lot to me that you even considered it. I hope they’re okay, wherever they are.”

You couldn’t relate. Your kingdom wasn’t occupied by an unknown enemy force, hopefully it never would be. You could only nod and nudge your horse into a trot, eager to see if you had drove that arrogant little girl playing Queen out of the palace, only to see a procession—a very haphazard, unsteady procession—proceeding towards you faster than you could blink. Among them was an eagle shifter you knew well—Kenjiro Shirabu—and he never used his eagle form unless it was of the utmost importance.

Because he was smaller than the others, you were able to hold out your arm and allow him to land safely, even if he almost knocked you over in the process. His claws dug into your arm and ripped through your sleeve as he tried to steady himself, but he looked so terrified, so scared, even in eagle form, that your concern quickly overpowered your smugness.

“Shirabu?” You reached up and plucked a loose feather from his wing. “What’s wrong?”

“King Wakatoshi’s squadron—what was left of it—returned home moments after you departed.” He was out of breath, taking deep inhales through his beak to catch it, and you watched him with concerned eyes. “I was told to return and inform you.”

But that made no sense—what was left of it?

“What do you mean?” You squinted at him, understanding settling in your gut even though you denied it. “Shirabu?”

He avoided your gaze. “They were attacked. King Wakatoshi… King Wakatoshi did not return with them. Nor did Tendou.”

It was like someone had dropped a cold stone in your belly. “What?”

“Please hurry to the palace.” He was already rising, flapping his wings to gain altitude. You reached up to snatch him back down, but he evaded your grasp and hovered just above your reach. “The advisors are in a panic. They don’t know what to do—you’re the only one who can take charge now, Princess [Name].”

He was gone before you could stop him. You watched him fly away, in a daze, eyes fixed on his steadily shrinking form, much like when you had watched Wakatoshi leave that day. He had promised to bring you back honey from the forest.

“Let’s go.” You spurred your horse into a run, Goshiki and Semi following right behind you. You had to know if it was true. And if it was… If it was? “We… We need to do damage control.”

“I believe the damage is already done, your majesty!” Semi shouted over the roaring wind in his ears. He gestured to the outside of the palace, already in sight from the breakneck pace, as you merged with the retinue that had come with Shirabu. People rallied around the gate, rioting, demanding to know what was going on. Tomatoes and sour fruit flew and hit the men standing guard at their post. “We’ll go through the back way!”

You allowed Semi to take charge, moving his horse to the head of your group because, for once, you could make no decisions. Your thoughts revolved around your brother—undefeated, unconquerable Wakatoshi, so confident in his decisions and quiet and kind. Now he was gone, dead or missing, and you had no idea who had done it.

But when you found them, whoever had taken your brother from you and kept him from returning home, you would skin them and place their heads on a pike.

And you would start with Akira Saito.

one | masterlist | three

taglist (open): i don't think i got any requests for this taglist (if i did i forgot) so feel free to ask me again to add you if i did. <3

[lasignoramain]

Tempus Fugit

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: Major Character Death

Relationship: Jean/Lisa

Summary: "Before demanding too many miracles from the gods, first consider if you are willing to pay the price they ask."

Sometimes, the sand of one's hourglass moves too quickly. What happens when Lisa's time runs out?

Word Count: 3088

Read under the bar, and/or on AO3!

Who knew that helping Barbara convince Jean to go on vacation would lead to Lisa Minci, the simple librarian of the Knights of Favonius, taking on the role of Acting Grand Master? Kaeya could have asked anyone— Amber, for instance. The young girl would be more than willing to take on the role and perform amicably. Even Eula would gladly take on the role of Acting Grand Master, and would most likely view it as a challenge. A test, to see if she's one the same level as Jean when it comes to taking on the tasks of Grand Master.

Even with those candidates, both of which would be ready and raring to assist while Kaeya shirks his duties, he chose Lisa.

Lisa, who chose the measly tasks of a librarian for a reason. Her job is rarely stressful, though she still takes it just as seriously. Jean entrusted the library to her, after all, so she wouldn't disappoint the woman she's severely indebted to.

Jean, as well as Grand Master Varka. Although Varka was adamant on Lisa being the Captain of the 8th Company. Absentmindedly, Lisa grasps at the Vision resting on her chest. The Knights of Favonius— they're all flawed people with ideals and goals independent of their occupations. They don't always act as one would expect.

Protect those who cannot protect themselves, even if it means that you might sacrifice yourself in the process.

Why?

A protector, a guardian, both a shield and a sword, dandelions floating in the Anemo-blessed breeze. A warm smile, gloved hands resting over Lisa's. Determination to work hard to fill the shoes that Grand Master Varka left her, stress building when one too many stacks of paper rest on her desk. Still, she presses on, a storm of productivity. Sacrificing herself for—

For what, exactly, does Jean sacrifice herself for? Or maybe the correct question is who?

The obvious answer would be the people of Mondstadt. They're all grateful for Acting Grand Master Jean— grateful to the point where they're too reliant on her. A lost cat that will inevitably return when it's hungry, advertising papers lost in the breeze that could easily be remade in a day or less. Freedom shackled by a doting Acting Grand Master who can't say no to the people she's meant to protect.

Lisa clears her throat, shaking the dizziness away. Just a few more papers to review and sign, then she'll return to the library to ensure that things are running smoothly.

Is Jean thinking of her while she's away with Barbara and Klee? With Kaeya, Diluc, Albedo, Razer, and Lumine? Hopefully, she's enjoying her vacation thoroughly, reconnecting with that relaxed, fun side that she once had when she was younger. Not that Lisa knows personally what Jean was like before she began shouldering the burdens of a Favonius Knight; she's only heard stories from Barbara, who's always more than willing to share the memories she holds so near and dear to her heart.

Her... heart. When did Lisa's chest start aching? Dull, but uncomfortable nonetheless. Nothing to worry about, it should go away in a few minutes.

Perhaps Kaeya and Diluc will have a small moment of bonding while they're on those islands together. While they're brothers, they've been so distant for so long. Not that Lisa knows why— the reasons of their tense relationship is a mystery even to her. Such a fragile thing the two of them have. Lisa hopes they eventually reconcile.

As for Klee, she's most likely ecstatic to have so many friends with her. Hopefully she'll be even more overjoyed when she realizes who's behind her summer getaway. Lisa played along for the young girl's sake, though she would know that handwriting anywhere, even if Alice tried to change it up. She still dotted her I's the same, and her A's had that exact flourish to them that made it obvious to Lisa.

The omnipotent mage. How much knowledge has she acquired in her travels, compared to what Lisa knows? Does Alice know the truth of why the Archons bestow Visions on mere mortals? Is Lisa paranoid for good reason, or is a fool to be terrified by whatever grand scheme the gods have in store for those "blessed" with obtaining a Vision?

"Before demanding too many miracles from the gods, first consider if you are willing to pay the price they ask."

Blessings will always hide their curses in the depths of the shadows, only rearing their heads when given the best opportunity to cause the most damage.

The dull ache in Lisa's chest turns into a sharp, stabbing pain. Gasping, she keels over, resting her forehead on the cool, polished wood of her desk. Her hat flops unceremoniously off of her head and onto the desk, knocking over a jar of ink and a few stacks of papers.

Always... they always come with a cost.

It wasn't even her Vision that did this to Lisa. Still, she's lived her life, hasn't she? Her hourglass just has less sand than most, and she accepted that a long time ago.

Still, why now? Of all the times, when she's alone. No one to be by her side when she goes. Can't she have this one thing? To have someone hold her close to them while her time finally runs out? Or will she be alone as she always has been, holding everyone at an arm's length, too afraid to grow attached and lose someone, grieve over a lost life?

"Jean..."

Help. She needs help. Her blood is rushing so loudly in her ears, but if she can just manage to get up and find someone, call for help, and she might be able to extend her life just for a little while longer, at least until she can see Jean—

A cough rises up Lisa's throat, and, through her delirious vision, she sees the blood more than tastes it. Is her sense of taste the first thing to go? What about her other senses? Can she still feel her hands, the wooden desk her forehead is resting on, the thrum of her Vision on her chest?

Numb. Numb is all she feels. Is that a feeling, or a lack thereof?

Fuck, she needs to move. If she can just find Eula, or- or Amber. Hell, if she can just get the attention of the guards stationed outside the door.

Power through it, Lisa. This is what you've been saving your energy for— to fight your fate for just one more day. Curse the Archons, curse this Vision, and curse that stupid. Magic. Book—

Lisa groans, slowly pushing herself up from her desk. The entire room is spinning— how is she going to get anywhere like this? It's laughable, really. How many people have referred to Lisa as elegant, refined, composed? This— her, right now— is the complete opposite of how many view her.

Oh, how embarrassed she would feel if she wasn't on the precipice of death, desperate for someone to save her. Where is her knight in shining armor? Any moment now, she should be bursting through that door, always prepared to play hero for everyone.

So, where is her hero?

Lisa's hand slips on the edge of her desk. She barely has the strength to catch herself, so she falls with a loud crash. She needs to get her act together— it would be so embarrassing for Jean to see her like this, wouldn't it? A sweating, shaking mess.

But Jean won't say anything about the state Lisa's in. She'll just give Lisa that warm smile before gathering her up in her strong arms, and then they could go to Windrise for a picnic, or— or even Starsnatch Cliff, so they could pick Cecilia flowers together. Then they could have some tea before they have to go back to work.

Jean. Jean, Jean, Jean.

The floor is so cold, Jean. It's dark, Jean. It was light outside just a moment ago, Jean, where did the sun go? Goodness, how the time flies. To think that you and I only met a short while ago, Jean. I'm so happy that I met you, and— and the rest of the Knights of Favonius, Jean.

A door slams open. Footsteps, but it all sounds so far away. So far, Jean, you're so far away. Can't you come back? Can't you come home, just for me?

"Her... is grave. We need... to the Church, and, while you're at it... the bard. He can send for Jean— don't ask questions, just do as you're told!"

Ah, Lisa can't feel a thing. Is this what death feels like? Nothingness? Her hearing is all she has left. What happens after she loses that, too?

They mentioned Jean. By the time they get a hold of her, it'll be much too late, and not even Barbatos can save Lisa. Perhaps he can keep her spirit here, just for a little longer? She wants to see everyone one more time.

Please. Just once more.

But that would be a bother— Jean is on vacation. Lisa can't be selfish, can't take her away, can't be selfish.

"Come on, Lisa... stay with us."

Who is that? Eu...la. Eula.

Eula.

Lisa wishes she could apologize.

"Until I enact my vengeance on all of the Knights of Favonius, no harm can come upon any of them! Including you, Lisa. I'll make sure that nothing happens to you, or Jean, or Amber—"

Eula's a good person. Strange, but she fits in perfectly with the rest of the Knights. Caring in her own way. She doesn't know about why Lisa has the condition that she does, and she has never asked a single question about it. Lisa's always appreciated that about Eula.

Eula, whose voice she can't hear anymore.

Has she finally died?

Lisa.

Aha, that's a familiar voice.

She opens her eyes to find that, yes, she is dead. How morbid— her soul is outside of her body, and thus she can see her deathly pale corpse resting on one of the cots in the church's infirmary. Her Vision is without its usual amethyst glow. Venti is by her side, though not looking at her physical body. He's looking right at her spirit.

"Well, this is a shame," Lisa sighs, crossing her arms. "Here to take me away with the winds before I can even see my friends, Barbatos? I'm hurt."

Venti shakes his head. "The least I can do is allow you to see them one last time, Lisa. Though it would be faster to take you to the archipelagos where they are now, I've sent Dvalin to gather them, per Eula's request." He smiles sympathetically, eyes full of mirth. "How do you feel?"

Lisa hums, tilting her head to the side. "Must I answer that, I wonder? Although I no longer feel the pain that I did while I was alive, which, I suppose, is a blessing. I expected death to give me much more time to do what I initially planned on doing before I ran out of time, but alas," she sighs, though it's not as if she's actually breathing. How strange. "How long until Jean arrives?"

"It shouldn't be long, now. Dvalin is a fast flier, after all," Venti chuckles, though that sad look never leaves his emerald eyes. "I see that your carefree nature has followed you even in death. If you'd received a Vision from me, you would fit in perfectly."

"Your Vision wouldn't match my outfit," Lisa retorts with a shrug. "I'm the Witch of Purple Rose, not Green. Though, thank you for the offer. Perhaps in my next life, I'll be granted an Anemo Vision."

Venti laughs loudly at that. "Perhaps you will," he agrees lightheartedly. He opens his mouth to add something else, but pauses when they both hear loud footsteps heading toward them. Just as quickly as the mourning left Venti's eyes, it returns. "The winds bring your companions to us quickly, it seems."

Jean bursts into the room, greedily gulping in whatever air she can into her lungs. Barbara, Lumine, and everyone else who had gone to the Golden Apple Archipelago are here.

"Barbatos—"

"Jean. Everyone," Venti solemnly greets the group with a nod. "Lisa asked me to hold her spirit here for a little while longer, at least until she could see the rest of you one last time." He turns toward Lisa's ghost, who stands there with crossed arms. The Anemo Archon summons his lyre, plucking at its strings to play a mellow tune.

A breeze flows through the room, and everyone's gaze moves to where Lisa is standing, next to her physical body. She watches them all intently— Diluc tries to keep his expression unreadable, but his knitted eyebrows, his tightly pressed together lips. Barbara is holding back her tears, to no avail. They all look so... sad.

"Now! Why are we all so mopey?" Lisa chides, shaking her head. She steps forward, placing her hands on her hips. "I certainly wouldn't want to remember my last moments with you lot having such sad faces, now, would I? So smile! It's the least you can do for me, isn't it?"

Klee whimpers next to Albedo, and Lisa's facade cracks. She kneels to Klee's height, smiling at the young girl. "Come now, Klee. You're a strong girl, aren't you? I know it might be hard right now, but you'll be alright."

"But... but I won't get anymore treats from Miss Lisa, will I?" Klee whines, shaking her head. "I don't want that! I want Miss Lisa to keep giving me treats! It's not fair!"

At Klee's tantrum, Barbara finally breaks with a loud sob. Lumine pulls her in for a hug, though Lisa sees the small tear that rolls down the traveler's cheek.

"Oh, Klee. I wish I could've taught you how to make those delicious treats I make you, but I have to leave soon." Pretending to lose herself in her thoughts for a moment, Lisa hums, tilting her head. Then she makes a small "Aha!" before smiling widely. "How about this: Let's make a pinky promise! I'll come back to Mondstadt and teach you how to make those treats, and you have to promise to smile for me."

Klee's face scrunches in confusion, but she extends her pinky to Lisa. "You have to come back! If you don't come back, then I'll be very angry!"

With a chuckle, Lisa wraps her pinky around Klee's. "I will come back, Klee. Then we can make all those delicious treats and eat them together."

The young girl's lips quirk, before she breaks out into a wavering smile. "Mhm! It's a promise!"

Good. Thank goodness. Lisa pushes herself up, only to be met with the one gaze that hurts the most to meet.

"Jean."

The Acting Grand Master squeezes her eyes shut, taking a deep, shaky breath. It pains Lisa so to see her like this— barely able to keep herself together.

That won't do. That won't do at all.

"Jean," Lisa tries again, hating how weak her voice sounds. "Look at me, please?"

Jean's bottom lip quivers, but she opens her eyes. "Lisa."

Kaeya takes the hint that the two of them needed some privacy, and quietly ushers the rest of the group out of the room. Lisa takes one last look at her friends— her family— before they're gone from her sight. Venti is the only one who stays.

"My sweet, sweet Dandelion Knight," Lisa sighs, stepping forward to cup Jean's face in her hands. "I'm going to come back to you, so don't mourn me, alright? I'll come back, no matter how long it takes."

Jean breathes out a puff of laughter, eyes downcast. "Please don't give me that kind of hope, Lisa—"

"You don't believe me?" Lisa interrupts with a pout. "I'm hurt. I may not be as powerful as Alice, but I can assure you that I have my ways. So, even when you do feel my absence, know that I will never leave your side. Call to me in the winds that flow through Mondstadt, and I will come to listen." Her voice cracks, and she knows that Jean is hiding all of her devastation, bottling it up until Lisa isn't there to see her break.

"Lisa, I—"

"I love you, Jean." Her voice trembles. It's embarrassing, how fragile Lisa sounds in that moment. "Every afternoon we've spent together, every time we've been in each other's company, every time I've made you tea and stolen you away from your work so you would give yourself some time to breathe," Lisa spills her words, desperate to get everything out before it's too late, "I've loved every single moment I've spent with you. Don't forget to give yourself time to relax, Jean; you need it more than anyone in the Knights."

"Lisa, it's almost time," Venti says softly. "I'll take you one last place before I send you off. Where would you like to go?"

"Starsnatch Cliff," Lisa says without hesitating. "Jean. Don't forget this little old librarian, alright? Or I'll—"

"How could I ever forget you, Lisa?" Jean sobs, tears finally spilling over. She manages to smile, though— a shaky, miserable smile through her grief. "How- how could I forget about the woman I fell in love with, knowing that her life was moving much faster than mine? If I could just find a way to return those years you lost," she rambles, wiping at her tears. "If I could just... save you—"

"Jean," Lisa chokes out, vision blurry. Can ghosts cry, she wonders? She certainly feels like she could cry, right about now. "My lovely Jean, it's alright. It was only a matter of time, so please don't... don't..."

Don't cry.

"Lisa."

Venti steps forward, placing a hand on Jean's shoulder. "We must be going, now. I won't be able to keep her spirit for much longer."

Jean nods, a sniffling mess. "Take... take care of her. Please."

"Of course," Venti responds, before gesturing for Lisa to step closer to him. "Are you ready?"

"That's a silly question," Lisa chuckles, taking Venti's extended hand. A green glow begins to envelop the two of them, and Lisa can't help but keep her gaze trained on Jean, who's watching them go. Jean meets her eyes, and she mouths three words to Lisa. One last time.

"Take care, Jean. I love you dearly."

And finally, the sands of Lisa's hourglass come to rest.

[buckysforeverprincess]

Let The Games Begin Ch. 3

Dark!Viking James Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers

Words: 1911

Warnings: James still being an asshole.

A/N: Welcome back! I hope you’re all enjoying this fic as I have many plans for it. The entire thing is written in my head I just need to get it down and I promise to post it once a chapter is complete. In this chapter reader starts to put some things together. Let’s see just how this plays out. Enter Steve Rogers. Enjoy!

You sat on the bed staring out into the space that had become your home, looking at something and nothing all at the same time. You hated this room. It was the main room of James’ home and was where normal people ate and entertained guests but not this heathen. Civility had eluded him and had no hope of finding its way back to home to its master.

 When you arrived, James had moved his bed from the other room and set up camp in here. You watched as he pieced everything together and demanded you get used to it. This bed in this room was to be your chamber of torture and he your proud captor. It doesn’t matter how many days you spend trapped in this twisted version of hell, you’ll never get used to this life or the scum enslaving you. He could fall into a pit of acid for all you cared.

 “I’m leaving,” James says as he comes from the other room and heads over to the table where his knives are kept, breaking you from your thoughts. A glance in his direction sees him in dressed in some clothing you haven’t seen that appears to be a lot nicer than usual. Hopefully he’s going to ride himself off a cliff and chose to dress up for the occasion to look decent for the people sent to retrieve the mess at the bottom. A woman can always dream, can’t she?

 “I’m leaving Steven to keep an eye on you today and Wanda will bring your lunch,” James says, his body half turned, and you can see his profile.

 “Your whore?” The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them, and you honestly didn’t care.

 James side eyes you and you can see his lips turned up in a grin. “Ahhh… so you’ve heard the talk, huh?” He looks to you, the grin now a full-on smile. “It’s a wonder you’ve heard anything. To my knowledge, you’ve never once left the house.”

 You scoff and shrug. “We all have our secrets, don’t we?”

 James clicks his tongue and nods. “That we do.” He turns his attention back to his task at hand.

 Watching him, you see him place several of his knives around his body, a few of them concealed where they can’t be seen to the naked eye. The last one he grabs is the one you know well, the one you used and failed to take his life with. His most favorite knife with the long blade and thick handle.

 James pulls it from his sheath and assess the blade, putting it up to his eye, carefully inspecting it for god knows what. Once he’s determined it’s worth, he inserts it back into its holder and makes his way over to where your sitting on the bed, holding the knife out to you.

 “Here. This is for you.”

 You look up at him, your eyes blinking in confusion. “What is this?”

 “A peace offering, for now.” He urges you to take the knife from his hand.

 “I don’t understand.”

 James rolls his eyes and sighs. “I’m leaving for the day and in these unusual circumstances I figured you’d feel a little more secure in my absence if I left you something that could offer you protection.”

 Your brows furrowed, still confused by his actions. “But isn’t that why Steven is staying? To protect me?”

 “Yes…,” James nods, “but he can’t be here every second.”

 “Why not?” You question, not buying his reasoning. “Natasha is here every second of every moment you’re gone. Why should Steven be any different?”

 “Because Steven has a village to care for in my leave and they trust him. He’ll come check on you periodically, but he cannot stay the entire time I’m gone.”

 This was so unlike James to offer this to you, so you know there’s more to this than he’s letting on. With a huff, you reach out and snatch the offered knife from his hand and set it in your lap. “Be careful, James. I’m not as daft as you think. This isn’t you showing you care because you and I both know you don’t. There’s something at play here… let’s hope for your sake the game ends and the pawns move as you’ve hoped.”

 James’ eyes go wide and you’re the one to smirk, the ass giving something away you believe he never intended. He recovers quickly and shakes his head. “I don’t know what you think you know, but I can assure you my intent is selfish and not about you but the child you’re carrying.”

 “Smart. Way to backtrack.” You grin and James turns to walk towards the door.

 “Don’t wait up for me.”

 “I’m missing you already.” The sarcasm is heavy on your tongue as you watch him leave, shutting the door behind him.

 Your eyes move to your lap and stare at the knife that’s taken up residence there. This is his most prized possession and something he wouldn’t just willingly leave but he did, and he changed things up. Did he think you were totally naïve? You’ve been here for three months, you’ve learned how to play this dangerous game. So, why? What’s the game and how will you come out the victor? Hmmm… what are you up to, James?

 “Princess.”

 You look up and see a tall blond muscles man standing in the doorway. Steven. Apparently, you were lost in thought and had no idea how much time had passed but here he was. The man that’s size rivaled James, but his face was softer, more trusting. If he wasn’t James’ right hand man, you’d find yourself in a position to confide in him but that wouldn’t or couldn’t be. You’d suffer in silence and keep the man at arm’s length. Nothing to be gained from becoming friends with this brute.

 “Steven. I’m still here, if that’s why you came.” Your tone is dry and without any sign of emotion.

 Steven chuckles and smiles, shutting the door and making his way into the room to stand in front of the bed. “I trust all is well?”

 “Why are you here?” You ask, not up for small talk or formalities.

 “To make sure you have everything you need, your highness.” Steven lowers his head, bowing to you like so many had before.

 It’s the first time since you’d been forced into this life that anyone has addressed you in this way and you're totally taken aback. His actions are very suspicious but there’s nothing that screams do not trust him. Hmmm… what piece of the game are you, Steven? A pawn or a knight? And how can I get you to show your weakness?

 “Drop the act and tell me why you’re here.” You grip the knife and unsheathe it, pointing the sharp blade in his direction, the man still bowing before you.

 The blond stands up and shakes his head. “Really? Is that any way to treat an ally?” Steven uses his hand to brush the blade out of his way and sits down on the edge of the bed. “I’m not James.”

 “Maybe not, but you're his best friend and I’d be a fool to trust you.” You raise the knife back up, holding it steady in his face.

 Steven’s eyes lock onto yours, and for the first time you’ve noticed just how beautiful the blue is staring back at you. “That blade isn’t meant for me, your highness. It really is to protect yourself.”

 At his words, you lower the blade and place it in your lap, still out of its sheath. “Why do I need protection?”

 Steven sighs and looks down, taking the knife and running his thumb across the blade. “Good… he sharpened it.” He puts the blade back in the holder and lays it down on the bed. “Because, your highness… you never know when someone might want to use James’ absence as an opportunity.”

 You furrowed your brows. “An opportunity for what?”

 Steven grins and leans in close, his lips brushing up against your ear. “An opportunity to bleed you dry,” he whispers, making you gasp in shock.

 “Don’t worry…,” Steven sits back with a grin on his face, “I’ll keep you as safe as I can but in the worst case the knife should be used to hold anyone off until I can come around.”

 You sit in silence as you study his words, the man still sitting across from you, watching your every move, which gratefully is nothing at this point. The knife is meant to protect until Steven comes and now it all makes sense. You were the pawn and Steven the knight. Guess it’s time to let the games begin.

 “Thank you, Steven.” You reach out and place a soft hand on his leg. “I’ll make sure to keep the knife close and I promise to scream loudly should any harm come my way.” You give him a genuine smile, something you haven’t given anyone since you came to this wretched hell.

 Steven glances down at the hand resting on his leg and then back up at you, his mouth turned up in a soft smile. “That’s all I can ask. Your safety is my priority.”

 “Again, thank you. Now, you should go…,” you remove your hand but never break eye contact, staring into those ocean blues, “...James is cruel and unforgiving and I’m not sure I could survive anymore of his wrath if he found out you were in here instead of out there preventing any tragedies.” You lay it on thick, hoping to gain a soft spot within the tall Viking.

 The blond nods in agreement and stands up from your bed. “As you wish, your highness.” And once again, bows and lowers his head for the second time since he arrived. “I’ll see you soon,” Steven says as he stands straight, the full extent of his muscular body on display.

 “Bye, Steven.” You smile bashfully at him.

 “Enjoy your day, Princess.” Steven finally makes his way to the door after several moments of stalling, opens it and exits, the large door closing behind him.

 You stare at the door waiting for him to come back but he never does. Good. Steven’s presence frazzled you a bit towards the end of his visit but for the most part you were able to understand enough of what treachery lies ahead. Whatever their plan it involved you, Steven and James’ knife.

 Oh, what a tangled web we weave, you thought, looking down at the knife at your side, the same one you tried to impale into the chest of the beast you share a bed with. The same one you’re positive he used when he slit your father’s throat with a laugh. It was now willingly given to you without so much as a fight or a peep of dissatisfaction, so maybe you should do what’s intended and protect yourself at all costs.

 Whoever is coming won’t find the same woman that was dragged here unwillingly, kicking and screaming along the way. No. They will be met with a much-changed Princess. One who’s new mission includes protecting the life growing inside you. Come hell or high water this child would not grow up with James’ influence. You’ll burn this village down to the ground before you let that monster shape and mold the child his seed fertilized.

Viking Tags:

@ellallheart @sebastianstansqueen

Forever Tags:

@jamesbarnesappreciationclub @kruscht @palaiasaurus64 @breezy1415 @sarahp879 @supernaturaldean67 @averyrogers83 @scarlettsoldier @lovely-geek @titty-teetee @geeksareunique @peaceinourtime82 @leosandbuckysgirl @the-goddess-of-mischief @mychemicalimagines @awkwardfangirl2014 @collette04 @notyourtypicalrose @onebatch--twobatch @miraclesoflove @kcd15 @xxloki81xx @death-unbecomes-you @thatfanficstuff @hotoffthepressfics @chuuulip @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @lancetuckershairgel​ @babypink224221​ @mybabe-buckybarnes​ @shield-agent78​ @the-real-kellymonster​ @caplanreads​

[rosycheekies]

I Want to Make Black-Knight Fall In Love With Me! by Suou (洲央) & sometime

[valkyriewarriors]

damsel in distress

nessian!au

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none

He climbed on top of the rubble of the stone tower. The stench of fire and ashes flooded his nose. And in the distance, he could hear the loud thuds of the creature so dangerously close. Unsheathing his sword, Cassian walked further into the rubble, carefully treading through the conglomerates of rocks and ashes. The sky above was not visible underneath all the heavy smoke. 

Then the creature screeched and roared. Past another archway, Cassian saw the dragon with a horrifying height that trumped the largest fortresses in all the kingdoms. Through the rare glimpses of sunlight of the shattered stained glass windows, he could see the maroon scales. The tail created gusts of winds as it slashed back and forth. The dragon's claws were hellish black and could easily rip him in two.

But beyond the creature, Cassian could see untouched glimmering steps leading up to a door left unscathed. 

Legends only talked of the beauty that lies beyond that door. A princess locked in a tower after she was captured by the evil Maeve who slaughtered her parents, the King and Queen. After that, the kingdom of Velaris was left in a power grab chaos before her sister Elain became of age.

The tower loomed above treacherous heights and steep cliffs and was guarded by the foul dragon. Storytellers over the years swore only her true love would rescue her. Many died along the path here and if anyone got to this point, they never lived to tell.

Cassian gripped the pommel of his sword before descending into the tower carefully. However, even in his years of stealth training as a Knight, it was no match to the dragon's sensitive hearing.

Suddenly he was face to face with large brown eyes, blinking slowly to try and register what it was seeing. Cassian felt a tremor run through him as the dragon's smile spread across its face. It was like he was staring down death. Before the dragon could exhale a fury of fire he leaped. He made sure to be quick on his feet. The inferno would’ve burned him to a crisp had he not moved. The dragon roared as its eyes snapped towards him again, eyes narrowing finally finding him. He needed to find the creature's weak spot. Many have said a driven sword between the eyes would do the trick. An inhale and Cassian surged forward. He nearly avoided the subsequent flames as he climbed on top of the creature. Using its scales to climb along its spine. The creature lurched sideways trying to shake him off, but Cassian held on. He was knocked off his feet, one hand clutching the dragon's scales while the other held on to his sword. The roaring of the creature was almost deafening as Cassian got up, trying to maintain balance on top of the unnerved dragon. As he neared the creature's head and drew out his sword, a voice yelled out.

“HEY! STOP!” 

Both the dragon and Cassian froze and looked up to see a small woman at the base of the stairwell. She pulled back her cloak to reveal golden brown hair, sharp cheekbones, and blue eyes he swore gave a lightning-like glint. He was dumbfounded, she was gorgeous, gods, devastating.

“Princess?” He whispered. But the moment was shattered when the dragon shook him off and bounded towards the woman. Cassian was thrown down its spine and tumbled towards the cold hard ground. Scrambling to his feet and realizing he lost his sword on the fall down, he watched helplessly as the dragon pounced for the woman. “No!” He shouted as he ran full speed.

But confusion went through him as he heard the woman laugh as the creature plopped in front of her and gave a sound like coo. 

“I know I just woke up too, Sphynx.” The woman said as she petted the dragon.

When he approached them, they both snapped their heads towards him. Even though a 50,000lb dragon was glaring at him it was the woman’s stare that held him in place.

She sighed as she stepped around the dragon towards him, her cloak flowing around her. In front of him, she rested her hands on her hips.

“Let me guess, you’re here to save me?” She gestured to the dragon who laid its enormous head beside her, eyes closed, almost drifting to sleep.

“Uh... yes.”

“And perhaps see if you are my one true love, isn’t that’s what Maeve told my parents… ridiculous.” She scoffed.

“Well not exactly, obviously your safety is the priority but I’ve been told I’m pretty charming,” He threw her a smug smile, the dragon only huffed as if mocking him. When she only started he cleared his throat and continued, “But I was under orders of my Queen to find and rescue you.”

She studied his uniform through the dim light until her eyes fell onto the crest on his armor. “You’re from Velaris…” and then looked to the ranking marks across his chest plate “a knight.”

He bowed, “At your service, Princess.”

She shook her head, “I haven’t been a princess in over ten years. Turn back now.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Queen Elain gave me strict orders to come with you in tow.“

“Elain? She’s queen now?” Her voice softened and a small smile tugged her lips upwards.

“Once she took reign, she never stopped looking for you, Princess.” 

She sat at the base of her steps, gently putting a hand on top of Sphynx, who no doubt was sleeping by now. “I don’t want to leave.” 

He bristled, “Princess you can’t stay here.” 

“What I meant is that I can’t go back to Velaris.” She looked at the sword in his hands. “If Maeve found out I left… she promised to bring devastation to the people, my people. I won’t let that happen.”

“Then we destroy Maeve.” He said firmly. 

She only narrowed her eyes, “Impossible. She’s thousands of years old equipped with dark magic.” 

Cassian only shook his head, “She only keeps you here because she’s afraid of you. The ancient prophets foretold her death would be of your hands”

She looked away, “My powers have diminished over these last ten years, she’s made sure of it.” The princess gestured towards a shimmering obsidian choker around her neck. “It’s been draining me of power since my capture.” 

His jaw tightened as he observed the choker that was a stark contrast to her beautiful slender neck.

“Then we break it.” He whispered in an almost deadly tone.

She threw him another glare “Do you not know the meaning of impossible? Sir…?”

“Cassian.” He finished for her.

“Sir Cassian. Look I appreciate your efforts. But I can’t leave.” 

He bent to where she sat, the dragon awake and watching him carefully. “I can feel your power Princess, it's almost overwhelming. This piece of glass,” he briefly touched the choker, “is on the edge of shattering.” Cassian sighed as she looked over his shoulder, expertly not meeting his gaze. “If not, Maeve will have control of your people out of fear.”

In her eyes, Cassian could see a storm brewing within her sharp blue eyes. Her demeanor began to change. She stood and straightened her posture, shoulders pushed back. Sphinx arose with her too, now fully awake and claws outstretching. For a moment Cassian thought he overstepped his boundaries and now his life would end here. However, the princess reached for her choker, gripping the material. 

“Perhaps you’re right.”

Her hands dug into the small space between her neck and the glass object. They wrapped tightly around it, turning white as she gripped harder. Cassian could see the streaks of light escaping throughout the black obsidian. He stumbled back as the choker was breaking, shattering and along with it an outburst of enormous power. A blinding white light lit the tower towards the heavens as the obsidian choker shattered loudly, it’s pieces absorbed in the light.

He fell to his knees as the power overcame him, hands covering his eyes at the blinding light. But when it diminished he looked up to see the princess, unscathed and almost glowing. 

She walked towards him and held out a slender hand. When he grabbed for it, a sudden bolt of energy went through him. He rose on shaky knees before her.

“You’re brave and courageous Sir Cassian. I can see why my sister sent you here.” Her voice rang through his head almost like a song. “I’ll need you if I’m ever to defeat Maeve.” 

His grin widened and bowed. “I’ll do anything for you Princess, and the people of Velaris.

“Another thing, let’s drop the Princess title. Call me Nesta.” 

“Yes, uh Nesta.” He never addressed a royal without their title, but somehow this felt right. 

But nothing could prepare him from when Nesta grabbed the back of his neck and crashed his lips on hers. Cassian froze but then melted from the softness of her lips. The power that flowed through her was irresistible, he couldn’t let her go. Instinctively he grabbed her hips to pull her closer. She gasped when he swept his tongue over her bottom lip, her hands beginning to dig into his hair, making him groan against her lips. 

Sphynx grunted loudly, startling Nesta. Her hands immediately left his hair and slightly pushed his shoulders. He stumbled back, cheeks burning. She bit her lip, a movement he followed with his eyes. “I wanted to test out the true love theory.” 

Cassian laughed, brushing his fingers to his lips. “Well? Am I your one true love?” He said this jokingly, but a shred of him hoped her heart was his. As if she didn't have his already.

“Sphynx has to like you too.” She said firmly. Cassian only gave a wary glance to the creature, its claws unfurling once again as it showed him its sharp giant teeth. “He’ll get used to me. As I said, I’m pretty charming.” 

Nesta narrowed her eyes but couldn’t stop a small smile from spreading across her face. She climbed on top of Sphinx and held out a hand for him. He raised his eyebrows as he let her yank him up, plopping behind her. 

“You’re gonna wanna hold on Sir Cassian.” She grabbed his hands and landed them on her hips. He eagerly gripped her hips, as she threw a smirk over her shoulder. “Please don’t hurl on me.” Before he could retort, Sphinx began to flap its enormous wings and lift from the ground. Cassian became alarmingly aware of how far from the ground his feet were as they ascended. 

“Alright Sphynx, time to get out here once and for all.” And they took off through the smoke and into the skies.

masterlist

[comic-brew]

On Smoldering Ashes

Chapter Two: If any more blood is to be spilt

@whumptober2020 days 3. Held At Gunpoint, 6. "Stop, Please", 9. "Take Me Instead", 14. Branding and 21. Stitches (Altprompt)

Series summary: Bruce Wayne has gotten vulnerable. Bruce Wayne has found love. His love and his kids are all he needs to find happiness. Some sick concept of fate doesn't like him being happy.

Notes: Forgive me for I have sinned. Oh god, oh lord, what in the blazing hells is this. Shitty shitty but I'm tired and late *drops mic* (37 mins/4.6k words I've exhausted tumblr's paragraph limit)

Warnings: RATED MATURE. Graphic depictions of child abuse and torture, graphic depictions of violence, blood, swearing, heavy I guess angst

AO3 | Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

***

"Why" Dick hears Bruce's voice implore. "Why are you doing this? I thought-"

Bruce's merely balancing on his toes inches from the end of the cliff, Dick can figure just by the way his voice wavers like it has only ever done no more than a couple times in the past.

Cecile knows this. She knows Bruce, and she knows this. And quite possibly she's enjoying it way too much.

"Because, dear, who can say they're getting paid to practise their hobbies?"

Dick can only gawk at her, an frankly that's the only thing all the others seem able to do as well.

Hobbies?

They're nothing but a plaything to her.

It doesn't seem right. This shouldn't be happening. Dick should be helping B plan the wedding that made him beam just at the thought of taking place.

Not being held in an unknown location by his could-be step mother.

They really dodged a bullet, but in doing so they fell right into a different trap.

His family's unable to speak, stunned by the sudden revelations. He can't blame them, nor can he blame Jason for cursing under his breath.

Barbara's the first to snap out of their trance.

"What could you possibly want that Bruce's money couldn't get you?" she asks. Her true goal though, expertly weaved inside is search of Cecile's motive.

There's none.

Cecile giggles. "Oh dear. It's never about money. It's not personal either, if that's what's bugging all of you. And although my client does pay a fair amount, in reality.. pain and suffering are simply way too enjoyable."

Client, Dick notes. Somebody's paying for this. Somebody that most likely knows who they are when night falls. Somebody dangerous.

Cecile then turns to look directly at Bruce, as she expertly hides her poison inside cheerfully spoken words.

"And you, love, with as many kids as you have here,-" she says, and Bruce's face crumples, "-are going to be a very, very interesting subject"

Duke shakes his head in disbelief at the woman.

"You're sick"

Cecile sits back and ponders on this statement for a bit. Just for a split second, so it's enough to pass across that message, but not quite long to let them be freed from that entrapping mist of concurrent desire for knowledge, and repulse keeping them bound to every word that falls from her lips.

"Perhaps I am" she ventures.

"Perhaps we're all sick, just in different ways. Have you ever thought of that?"

Dick has in fact thought of that, but his answer would never share meaning with Cecile's. How different really are they from the people they fight? They lock all those costumed freaks up in Arkham, but they themselves could very well be described in the exact same way. Sometimes he wonders if they're insane for choosing this life, and the answer that his mind spits out is always yes.

Every life they save is worth it. That's the truth that makes him continue to put on the suit every night, even though the wounds inflicted on him the previous night are still healing.

But are they really making a difference? Aren't they just lunatics running around in kevlar and spandex. Isn't all the grime and mold of the city simply feeding off of them like leeches?

Dick can't focus on that now. Questioning his life choices might have to wait until he's not that tied up.

Heh. Tied up.

Meanwhile Cecile has exploited the moment of nonplussed silence she's created to tighten her sleek ponytail.

Keeping the attention to herself. Every move is calculated to milliseconds.

"Okay, so here's how this is going to go" she begins, clasping her hands together, then motioning towards their hanging limbs. "Do you see those cool little bracelets on your hands?"

On cue, nine heads tilt upwards to test Cecile's statement. And there, right on his forearm Dick can spot a faint blue light shining dully on what seems to be the middle of a silver-like device.

"Those give us, the immense pleasure of electrocuting you whenever you folks might try to escape, or cause any unwanted trouble" she informs, with her mouth taut into a completely mechanical smile.

"Or.. you know. If we're just bored and feel like it"

"And this little screen right in front of you, it's pretty bland now, if you ask me"

She then starts pacing around in the segregated room, seeming to find great amusement in hearing how her heels click against the concrete.

"Well what if I told you the sight will get more entertaining?"

Dick doesn't like this.

"Before you ask, I will not spoil the experience for you. But I will give you this: you will be the stars of a grand performance. You in particular, circus boy should be thrilled by this fact"

He flinches when he mentions him in that way. It's then that his mind fully comprehend just how much she knows them.

It's not just some kidnapping, of those they've had many before. But it's never been like this. Never has a stranger gotten so close only to betray them for laughs.

Some could argue that it was a similar case when Jason had come back, but Jason had always had a motivation. A goal.

Cecile's doing this for nothing else than pleasure.

Before he can compose himself and reply her voice strikes again, this time in the form of a snarl. "So? Any volunteers?"

No, Dick doesn't like this at all.

"Leave them alone" Bruce demands, only it's not precisely Bruce anymore. Not only has his voice assumed the dark edge of the Knight, but his speech is completely neutral, apathetic. Somehow, his emotional state is even more prominent that way.

"It's me you want to get back to"

"Oh, no" Cecile frowns. "No, no Brucie. This is not about you. Hell, it's not even about them. It's about me. And I say it will be nicer to leave you for last."

She rests a finger on her chin contemplatively, but it's fake. It's all fake, and provocatively so. Cecile's head twists around so that her malicious glare lands on Damian.

"How about our little asshole over here?"

No. Not Damian. Never in a million years. Never in a billion years.

"If you value your life you'll stay away you imbecilic Jezebel" Damian hisses, but Cecile makes no motion to enter their space. Instead, the man in black leaves his post to disappear behind the door Cecile had previously entered from, most likely leading even further away.

"I do value my life"

He comes back with three more identically dressed men, one slightly leaner than the other, and one slightly taller.

"Plenty, for that" she says loftily, and while one of the men returns to his post by her side, the other two barge in through a barely visible door next to the right end of the glass.

There's an outrage as the men quickly advance towards the boy. Everything's blurry and spinning and his ears are ringing so that Dick can't quite figure out if he's shouting along with his brothers and sisters or if he's simply been trapped in a lucid dream all this time.

Voices and bangs and thuds and yells, it all gets lost in the end. So much thunderous noice, yet still it can he broken down to its core. Raw and frantic cries of dissent, repeated over and over in a canon, until the words and senses are but a blurred collage of ire and desolation.

Cecile whips a rectangular device from her suit's pocket and before her finger has enough time to hover above one of the polished buttons, the last is pressed and Damian's body is released from the pipeline.

The boy wastes no time, immediately lunging for the men, and despite any rust slowing down his joints because of their inactivity, he manages to hold off the two men looming over him with size thrice his own.

Dick wants to hold hope inside his heart, but he knows it's futile. He also knows Damian is aware that this fight was lost before it even began, but his baby brother isn't a quitter, nor a coward by his own standards.

If Cecile is startled by Damian's fierce resistance, she doesn't let it show. Her finger finds the device held loosely in her grasp, and a different button is pushed. Sparks that are birthed from the device on Damian's forearm begin to climb throughout his every inch of flesh, until he soon collapses to the ground -like lifeless weight.

The men drag him out of their view, and Dick swears he witnessed a smirk manifesting on their faces while they yelled with all their might, yet completely powerless.

***

It starts with low and hollow grunts. It starts with insults, it starts with defiance, it starts with barely discernible hisses.

Most importantly, it starts with no image.

Only screams. Separated by breathless gasps.

"Please, stop"

Dick's heart shrinks into his chest, sinking deep, deep down, until his lungs are under too much pressure to expand.

The screen flickers to life only after the first hollow screams have subsided.

It's.. not a good sight. Nobody expected it to be.

The room is small and dark, the camera feed is black and white and grainy, but that doesn't help in reducing the horror.

The image focuses enough for Dick to make out Cecile finishing stitching deep gashes on Damian's torso back together in the worst way possible.

Cecile retracts her hand hastily, like she's forgotten something. She lolls her head to the side, waving primly towards the camera.

"Stay tuned for a surprise" she whispers almost conspiratorially before turning to Damian, severing the thread with her own fingers, picking at flesh and stretching it out until he's bleeding again all over the gurney he's tied onto.

Damian struggles not to let her hear the sound she would find oh so hedonic. He grits his teeth and grinds his jaw, but groans emanate from him without his consent.

Cecile sets the sutures and her other tools on a filthy table standing miserably beside her.

"Your brother's such an ass" she declares almost smugly, while shifting in her place to face the camera

Without a warning she pokes a finger inside Damian's open wound, evoking a strangled yelp of agony. Soon enough Cecile's retracted her finger. She brings her hand up to her face. She makes a show of admiring the fresh blood coating it, before she tastes it.

She giggles nonchalantly, but there's that certain grace to everything she does.

"Don't worry. We're not done yet"

No. No, this can't happen. He can't let this go on any longer than it already has.

He has to take his place. He'll take his brother's place. Just, god. Just please listen..

"Take me instead!" Dick screams at the top of his lungs, and the dread climbing up his ribcage seeps into his voice. Bent in ways abnormal, tuning in with his despair.

"Do you hear me?!"

He's flailing around wildly and almost hysterically, his voice is getting hoarser by the second. Kicking and bumping the air, but the chains are relentless, so that he's supposed to sit idly by and watch while his little brother is being tortured.

All alone in a dark room.

The man standing tall and unmoving on the other side of the glass only smirks slightly.

"Leave Damian alone!" Dick roars at the screen, and roars at the man, but he knows it's pointless.

Cecile smiles once again to the direction of the camera as she elegantly walks away from Damian, leaving him alone strapped to the gurney -panting, sweat dripping down his forehead.

Damian's head follows the woman even as she disappears out of Dick's sight. The boy's face crumples. Breathless pleas escape his trembling lips, in swift exhales of air that hold no power.

"Please no"

She reemerges cradling an incandescent piece of metal. The sickening calmness on her face is doused in its fiery glow, and all Dick can utter as he goes deathly pale and still is a breathless "No"

Dick finally has enough contact with reality to register his brothers and sisters' own twisting and shouting. The sounds are earpiercing but all hollow to his ears, and Dick only does acknowledge their existence by sight of tears on enraged faces, jaws snapping open with enough force to dislocate, muscles toned and clenched uncomfortably, bodies bent and struggling, in futile attempts to raise enough force and reach the glass to perhaps create a distraction.

Dick can't figure out the faces from his peripheral vision, nor does he care enough to try.

"No."

His eyes are stubbornly fixed on Damian's own, shining wide with terror as the metal illuminates his skin more and more clearly on the screen. On Damian, desperately tugging against the straps keeping him bound to the gurney to no avail, struggling to be freed before the red-hot iron burns the exposed skin of his chest.

"No.. please no" Damian mumbles, and he looks so small. Smaller than a child his age should look. More frightened than a child his age should be.

Dick had promised -to him and to himself- that he'd always be there for his little brother.

He watches helplessly as the metal sizzles the first layer of flesh. He watches as his little brother writhes and squirmes helplessly under the red-hot iron melting into his skin, and he realizes he can't keep his promise.

No, no, no, no, no

Damian is screaming with all his soul and all Cecile does is laugh. Cecile is laughing, and Damian is being tortured because Dick couldn't keep his promise.

He failed him.

"Take me!"

Please no. Not Dami.

Every inch and acre of Dick's skin feels set aflame, but the pain is nothing but the child of wildfire blazing and burning in his chest. Its smoke has filled his eyes with tears burning like acid.

Failed him.

In his ears buzz cracking woods and falling towers. Not his brother's screams and pleas for mercy, not the echoes of laughter, not the thundering cries of their family.

Failed.

And because of his failure his little robin is expected to endure agonizing pain, as also the wounds inflicted on him are what make Dick's failure not only discernible but grievous.

Failure equals repercussions.

Failure equals punishment.

Perhaps it's irrational, and perhaps he's lost his mind long, long ago. Perhaps this is all a nightmare that he can't wake up from, but Dick's senses don't deceive him.

His every cell is howling in despair but yelling and praying are not enough to relieve them of their pain. Flowers buried deep in ice, frantically searching for sunlight- too frantically to know that they're dead.

Dick failed him. Dick should have been the one punished for this failure.

Only moments have passed but the agony grabs them and twists them, draws them out until seconds can't be told apart by eons.

Dick's eyes are fixed on the form spasming on the screen, but those eyes are empty and hollow.

Their azure blue has evaporated, their glossy white has been burnt to the ground. Obsidian vortexes shining with the life they've stolen from his soul in the half light, is all that is left of them.

Damian's voice is rough from the perpetual screaming, but Dick can hear no more.

So he prays to whatever deity listens that Cecile is reached by his own cries tearing through his throat with fading intensity. Perhaps so loudly the air is grazing his vocal cords more harshly than it should.

Perhaps so loudly he is already silent.

But Dick won't mind it even if they fail to produce a sound ever after these, as long as his flesh is torn and burnt instead of Dami's.

The flesh being torn and burnt is his, in a way, but not in any way that matters.

The iron is removed and Damian's face slowly appears behind the sparse smoke of his own smoldering skin.

***

Cecile reappears behind the glass, walking ever so elegantly towards the barrier separating her from them. She peers at each and every one of them in amusement, deaf to te insults so full of hatred being hurled at her from every corner.

She smiles at the teary paths staining Cass and Barbara's cheeks,

"You fucking-"

"-embodiment of evil and-"

"go-"

She laughs at the veins popping on Duke, Jason and Stephanie's necks as they shout their lungs out, feebly attempting to stop the world from sinking,

"I'm gonna fucking kill you"

"Jay calm down-"

"You repulsive.. abomination-"

"-to hell-"

She gracefully snickers at Tim and Bruce's state of dishevelled resignation, a progression of the rage and agony to the point where they're no more prominent than their breathing,

"You hear me? You're going to burn-"

"Don't you dare tell me to calm the fuck down, replacement"

"-in hell"

"He's right Jason, this doesn't help Dam-"

"you'll wish you were dead before I get my hands on you"

But she stops in her track when her piercing hazel eyes land on Dick. So visibly worn out, yet determinedly burning holes through her with his glare.

She stops, and can only regard him in newfound interest.

Dick doesn't shift in his place. Doesn't bat an eye as he speaks with the power of a thousand thunderstorms enhancing the calmness in his voice.

He's made up his mind.

It's his failure.

His decision.

"You'll stop" he says, almost nonchalantly.

Cecile cocks an eyebrow, scoffing.

"Excuse me?"

"You'll bring Damian back here with us. And you'll stop."

Cecile smirks ever so slightly. "I'm afraid I'm not quite done with your brother yet. Besides, why would I do that?"

"Because you will" Dick growls, but soon enough he masks his outburst beneath a carefully tailored poker face.

Something unreadable passes across the woman's face. Dick assumes she's caught up to his thinking. Of course she has.

"Well, you wound me!" Cecile exaggerates, clasping a hand to her chest. Overacting the entire thing, on purpose no less. She's proven to be too much of a hypocrite for Dick to know she's only acting terribly on purpose.

His stomach is urging him once more to let its contents out, only this time he's not sure it's just a lingering side effect of the drug.

"Although, while wounded, you can consider me intrigued."

Dick swallows thickly. He hopes Cecile doesn't hear him gulp as loudly as he sounds to his own ears.

"You'll stop. Leave Damian alone" he says and although his heart is beating a hundred times faster than it should, his stare is unyielding.

"And you'll take me instead"

Cecile eyes him half incredulously, half entertained, for moments that feels like an eternity. Dick is convinced his soul has already left his body, and the woman is simply left staring blankly at his hanging corpse.

She's still staring vacantly at his direction, with no indication of the fact changing.

But then she chuckles.

She chuckles, and soon snickers are finding their way up her throat one after the other, until her shoulders are shaking with laughter.

Yet the laughs escaping her are perfectly normal. Perfectly contained, just the average sound that could be prompted by an oddly funny joke. A joke so ridiculous it fulfills its purpose.

Perhaps that's the most terrifying part. How human it is.

And Dick is showered in cold sweat when he repeats himself, voice sounding just a little more tight and frantic than need be, but Cecile pays him no mind, laughing silently on her own.

Cecile -most likely pointedly- ignores his protests, which are growing more and more despondent as he's fumbling for words, caught somewhere in the crevasse dividing dread and ire.

"Do whatever you want to do to me! Just-"

He's just a child. Just an innocent child.

"-just leave Damian alone. And take me." Dick says.

An innocent boy caught in the crossfire of a war he never swore to fight, but was instead compelled to win.

His brother caught in the crossfire. His Dami.

His fault.

Dick's stuck in a loop. It doesn't end, it never does. Once it's starts there's no end to look forward to, there's merely one he can imagine, and they won't let him follow it.

All air leaves his lungs. Everything seems so peaceful when the flames tingling his heart have no more smoke to give.

"Take me."

His fault. His responsibility.

"Dick, no," Bruce pleads from behind him. Only then is it that he realizes the rest of them have grown silent, all eyes on him, reflecting the light nearly pensively.

Only then is it that he realizes he's been toeing the line of hysteria. That he doesn't know how to stop.

"B, I have to. I can't let Damia-"

"And I can't let any of you!" Bruce snaps. Dick is taken aback, only not due to the sonorous anger redirected towards him. Rather by the tears he can see glistening all over his father's irises.

Tears.

Shining all across his father's eyes.

Under the enemy's scrutinus gaze, and still he let the sorrow swim all the way up to the surface.

Cecile has stopped laughing. Openly at least, as her palm is covering her mouth in a futile attempt to stifle the giggles, perhaps not wanting to disturb the show. The bright smile lighting her eyes betrays her nonetheless.

"You're my son, Dick. I can't let you do this. I can't let another of my children do this" Bruce concludes, never ending eye contact.

Never trying to deny the tears.

All Dick wants is to give in to the pain of his own, and let Bruce wipe at his eyes and tell him it's all going to be alright, just when he was little.

But he isn't little anymore, is he?

Is he?

Is he strong enough?

No. Not a question. He has to. He has to be-

"I was dead, I should go in next. There's nothing she can do to me that I haven't already gone through" his brother's voice cuts in, disrupting the debate that's been won in his mind, long before it even started.

"Half of us have died, Jason" Stephanie counters. "I don't mind going myself"

"You're not going Steph"

"I'll go then"

"The hell you are, replacement. You didn't make the cut for our club the first time, you'll not make it now.

"Are we seriously having this conversation right now?"

Cass clears her throat to get their attention.

"Me" she offers, and immediately after she's met with loud protests.

Dick watches as the others continue to fight between them, arguing on who should trade places with Damian. They can't understand that he has to do it. He doesn't expect them to. So when Cecile laughs and asks who's it going to be?, his decision is adamant.

"Like I said. It will be me" Dick insists.

He's not little anymore.

"No." Bruce says sternly. "No, you won't go. Do you hear me?"

He is strong enough. He has to be, so he's going to be.

Dick hears him, although elects to ignore him, staring proudly ahead, at the two men walking inside to retrieve him.

Bruce then is yelling, and the others protest, some are still fighting over which one of them should take Damian's place but it's already too late. The cuffs clink open and the two men go to stand by either of Dick's side as soon as his feet touch the ground.

Dick doesn't fight them. He doesn't mind being pushed around with his arms pressed behind his back so tightly his already sore muscles hurt as his arms are straining to bend backwards despite his flexibility. He doesn't mind, because he's doing it for his brother.

As long as his brother's safely reunited with the others, it doesn't matter whatever they might do to him.

Dick sends one last look to his family, and another full of a different kind of love directed right at Babs. He hopes his eyes delivers the thousand messages he doesn't have the time to relay with phrases.

The room is left in hush when the door slides closed behind him.

As far as looks go, Dick's were farewells.

As soon as Dick's dragged into the small room whose horrid purpose he's seen on camera, he spots Damian sitting upright against a corner, with a gun pressed to his temple.

Dick's shoulders stiffen and a breath catches on his throat. Still, it's all going to be alright. It's all going to be okay. Damian's going to be okay.

"I'd advise you not to try anything smart, or-"

"I won't" Dick interrupts sharply.

Cecile stands to the side and gestures towards a skeletal armchair with untied restraining straps. Dick shudders at the thought of how many people have suffered on this same chair, and his stomach fills with dread as the knowledge that he's next settles in.

"Grayson wh-"

"It's okay Dames" Dick says softly, scrambling to regain his composure as he's forced onto the blood stained metal by the men.

He winces when they securely latch the straps around his wrists and ankles, so tightly the leather is pressing into his skin, disrupting blood circulation.

Damian looks hurt and afraid, so Dick does his best swallow his own accelerating fear and suppress the shivers running down his spine, triggered by the icy feeling of metal on his skin.

"Everything is going to be okay"

Dick locks eyes with him and plasters something that feels like the poor excuse of a smile on his face, but he knows it must appear somewhat comforting to his little brother.

Masking his unraveling self beneath a charming smile and a lighthearted joke has always been his gift and curse.

Cecile clasps her hands together impatiently and nods towards the man holding the gun. He hastily shoves Damian into the arms of the leanest of the men, while his extended arm is turned around to point at Dick's head instead.

Damian yelps and as his arms are restrained behind his back, the hideous burn on his exposed chest comes into Dick's full view.

Dick's breath hitches despite himself and.. and..

It's...

The ghastly tendrils of burnt skin spreading across his little Robin's chest that spell out the word brat…

Dick could never describe the utter despair and pain and sorrow and ire and helplessness he feels, yet he doesn't have the time to stare right through the monstrosity etched onto his little brother's flesh as suddenly his chin is being pushed uncomfortably upwards by the barrel of the gun being pressed firmly against the soft skin right above his neck.

As Dick gulps, his Adam's apple bobs almost visibly on his inconveniently prolonged neck. The underlying dizziness finds the perfect opportunity to strike him again as his head slightly lolls backwards.

He no longer sees Damian, but amidst the sounds of his heartbeat echoing from inside the veins and taut muscles in his neck, a small and strangled Richard finds its way to his ears.

"I'm fine" Dick assures, even though he's nothing but. "I'll be fine. Love you, lil bro"

The absence of an answer doesn't concern him as much as that of shuffling or any indication that Damian is guided out of the room.

That is, until a delicate stray sniffle rips his heart apart.

If he could glance at his little Dami, he'd be able to see his reflection fall from his watering eyes in teardrops that he can no longer contain.

Dick can imagine the silently crying face, and so he shuts his eyes closed harshly, trapping inside all the pain and anguish lest it makes way to the surface

With a wavering voice he demands:

"Now let Damian go"

When he reopens his eyes with a breathy gasp he's all alone, bound to the metal skeleton of the chair.

Relief floods his heart.

If any more blood is to be spilt, it shall be his.

[talpup]

Light In the Darkness:68

Summary: Yami Sukehiro just wanted to join the Magic Knights and make his mentor proud.  He knew there would be trails.  He knew trouble would come his way.  Knew he would be faced with discrimination for being a foreigner and a peasant.  What he didn’t know.  Didn’t expect.  Was that literal Chaos would come his way.  That he and his mentor’s sister would be at the center of world ending trouble.  Or that he would fall in love with his mentor’s sister and face more than discrimination; but the jealously of Nozel Silva who loved the same woman he did.

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, eventual sexual behavior, and other possible triggers.  For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

Chapter 68

Teris had received Yami’s letter that he and Bronn had been placed under Mereoleona.  It said that he would be stationed with the southeast contingent that was being overseen by Commander Greywright.  She had been relieved to learn that Yami wasn’t being sent with the southwest.  Even though Julius was overseeing that division, it was considerably closer to the Spade Kingdom border.  Though that was probably why Yami had been sent to the southeast.

Teris had hoped to see Yami at least one more time before they set out; but that was not to be.  She found herself stupidly thinking that all of this was a sort of punishment for them going too far out in the woods on Yami’s birthday.  The memory of him pressing and rubbing against her was enough to make her blush.

“Tired already?”  Randall asked, looking over at her.

“What?” Teris turned an even deeper shade of red afraid the man could read where her thoughts had wandered.

“You’re flushed.”  Randall commented.

The Crimson Lion offered her a water skin.  He wondered if the scars she hid underneath her buttoned up blouse weren’t the only lingering markers of what she’d been through on the Summer Solstice.  Were two and a half months really enough time for one to fully recover their strength after such a thing?  Given that no one had ever been through such a thing, it was difficult to say what such a recovery looked like or how long it should take.

“Have something to drink.”  Randall urged, when Teris didn’t take the water skin.  “It’ll help keep you going till we can stop and rest.”

Rather than argue and deny she wasn’t tired, Teris took the skin and had a couple sips.  Handing it back she looked on ahead, wondering how far they were going to travel together till Captain Jax and Jamie’s teams broke from theirs.  She was grateful to have Jax and the Golden Dawns Captain present, even if it was only for a time. No doubt Nozel felt somewhat relieved as well.  It gave him someone to follow and ask questions of, until he began to feel more comfortable in his role as acting Captain.

Teris still couldn’t imagine what the King had been thinking.  Making Nozel an acting Captain and charging him with such responsibility. Was His Majesty angry with House Silva and this was his way at punishing them?  Our was he really that lacking in knowledge of what if meant to be a Magic Knights Captain, having never served himself? In any case Teris was determined to do her best to see Nozel succeed and knew Fuegoleon, Randall, and Zara would do the same.

Zara had proved invaluable.  Before they had headed out, Nozel had the Purple Orca draw a revised and correct map of the Diamond Kingdom which had then been magically copied and given to every Magic Knights Captain, the original filed away somewhere within Magic Investigations.  Teris had been proud of and happy for the man.  It was about time Zara got some of the recognition he deserved.  Zara had be grateful to her.  Thanking her on several occasion.  Which only made Teris uncomfortable.  Seeing her discomfort, Nozel had put a quick stop to it, snapping somewhat harshly at Zara.  As upset as Teris had been at Nozel for his stern words to Zara, she had been grateful that Zara’s verbal gratitude had ceased.

She was still worried about Yami.  He would be having to skirt the Witches Forest to get to the Diamond Kingdoms eastern border.  The first time Yami had entered the Witches Forest, he had made quite the disturbance and freed Vanessa.  If the witches learned of his presence so near their territory would they try to seek revenge? Teris shook her head trying to clear her mind of such thoughts. Worrying about things that may never happen and she had no control over wouldn’t serve any purpose.

Teris reached the rest of the group.  They had paused at a sheer ten hundred-thousand meter drop.

Jamie looked over to Nozel.  “Well done acting Captain.  Your man has led us to a cliff.”

“We have a number of mages that can get us down.”  Jax calmed.  “The least of which is you.  Go on, Jamie.  Create a rope that we can use to climb down.”

Jaime turned to Jax.  “We were instructed not to use our magic unless necessary.  Doing so will attract attention and lessen our chances of success.  Never mind that this is war.  Our mana stores need to--”

“I was at the meeting and heard Sir Jorah same as you.”  Jax cut in over the other man.  Looking out over the expanse, he muttered under his breath.  “Idiot.”

“I heard that.”  Jamie snapped, voice tight with pent up aggression.

“This mission is a necessary task, is it not?”  Jax questioned the Golden Dawns Captain.  “And continuing on our way is necessary in order to complete our mission, yes?  Therefore, is not getting down this cliff necessary to continuing on our way and completing said mission?”

“I get what you’re saying.”  Jamie gritted.

“Good. I was worried I’d have to write it out.”  Jax said, with exaggerated relief.

“What is it Zara?”  Teris asked, seeing the Purple Orca looking pensive.

“There is a way down.  It’s just that it’s hidden from up here.”  Zara said.

Jamie slapped his thigh in exasperation.  “Why didn’t you say so? Nozel, if you want to be a good Captain, you should instruct your people to offer up important information before it’s argued out.”

“He would have if you’d but quit your whining long enough to give him the chance.”  Teris snipped.

Nozel’s eyes snapped to her, widening slightly.  Jamie and Jax blinked.

Jamie took a couple steps her way.  “Why you little—I’ll teach you how to properly speak to a Magic Knights Captain.”

Nozel stepped in front of Teris, chin slightly raised.

“Move. Or be moved.”  Jamie commanded.

“She’s one of mine.”  Nozel said with quiet, fiercely contained control. “If anyone will be instructing her.  It will be me.”

“Then I suggest you do so, acting Captain.”  Jamie glanced back at Jax.  “You got a lot of bad behavior to break her out of in a short amount of time.”  He raised a warning finger at Nozel.  “She disrespects me again and I’ll go through you to teach her a lesson she won’t soon forget.  Understand me.”

Nozel stared without word or expression.  He was good at that.  You could say it was one of the things the Silva’s were known for.  Like the Vermilion's red hair and pointed incisors or the Silva’s silver hair.  The Silva’s all seemed to be capable of staring without blinking.

“Jamie. Stand down.  He gets it.”  Jax said, watching them closely.

Jamie turned to the Black Bulls Captain.  “You got a bold, mouthy one there, Jax.”  He said of Teris.  “Make sure you remind her of the same when she’s returned to you.  Vice Captain or not I will not be disparaged.”

“I suppose you get enough of that from your wife and fellows.”  Jax taunted.

“Hurry up and show us the way down, peasant.”  Jamie ordered Zara.

Nozel didn’t have to see Teris’ expression to know that she was going to comment on the commoners behalf.  “Don’t.”  Nozel silenced in a harsh whisper.  He turned his head and looked at her out of the corner of his eye.  “Don’t.  You.  Dare.”

Teris looked at Nozel, a range of emotions playing on her face before finally settling on one he had seen directed at him all too often. Nozel sighed, resigned to Teris’ accustomed anger.  Still he continued to stared at her, blue eyes shining with hard judging coldness.

As often as Teris had seen that look in Nozel’s eyes, it had rarely ever been directed at her.  Biting as Nozel’s words could be when he chastised her, he rarely looked at her with with anything but… Teris’ stomach curled in on itself.  Despite the uncomfortable nervousness his piercing gaze cause, she stared back, refusing to be the first to look away.

Nozel watched her without blinking.  He’d be damned if he let this go without Teris submitting to his authority.  Tired and on edge as they all were, they were behind enemy lines.  Traversing the border of two unfriendly kingdoms, one of which they were at war with.  Teris needed to know her place here and now.  Nozel had to make certain she would obey and comply with his commands without challenging him. Lives were at stake.

As annoying as Randall sometimes found Teris’ words and actions to be, he was a noble and a gentleman.  Seeing a lady being handled so roughly, even by a mere gaze, made him want to intervene.  He opened his mouth to say something, anything, that would call attention to himself and away from Teris.  Fuegoleon gripped Randall’s shoulder and shook his head.  The Vermillion knew what Nozel was doing and why.  Fuegoleon was likely one of the few, if not only one, who knew how much Nozel hated having to do this.  Much as Fuegoleon didn’t like it himself, he was proud at his friend and acting Captain for stepping up and doing what had to be done no matter how difficult it was.

Teris could feel the eyes of everyone on her.  She knew what Julius and Jax would say.  What they both would want and expect of her.  She imagined Jax’s expression as he watched, standing not too far behind Nozel.  Releasing a breath she lowered her gaze.

“Captain.” Teris said, softly submitting.

Nozel turned away without word least Teris or anyone else see his relief. Taking a step, he looked over the cliff edge and instructed.  “Zara, show us the way.”

Once down, they made three separate small camps a thousand or so meters apart from each other.  Fuegoleon watched Teris chew on rations. They had enough to last them months, the small charmed bag that held them, both preserving and making them small enough to fit until pulled out, reverting back to regular size.  It had something to do with bending space that Fuegoleon cared little about.

Teris hadn’t spoken since the clifftop.  And Nozel seemed content to give Teris her space and let her sulk.  Fuegoleon knew his cousin better. While time and space may have worked under different circumstances, it wasn’t going to work in this instance.  Teris wasn’t the most prideful person he knew; but she certainly was one of the most stubborn.  And she never liked being told what to do or put in her place; usually harboring a grudge against anyone who dared to do so.

Since it had been Nozel who had put her in her place, the shock and ill feelings Teris had would likely fester if simply left.  In Fuegoleon’s mind, Nozel had been too lenient with Teris in the past, both as a friend and her Intended.  He figured Teris had probably come to expect that she would always get her way with Nozel and that Nozel would let her without putting up much of a fight.  Not only would that not work under these circumstances; it wouldn’t work later when they were wed.  Nozel had only weakened himself and his authority in letting Teris always have her way.  Something that Fuegoleon knew his friend would eventually have to rectify, dealing with the consequences of his leniency in Teris’ anger and unwillingness to obey.  If any good could be said from Nozel being made acting Captain, it was bringing this issue to a head and forcing the two to deal with it.

Fuegoleon got to his feet, disgusted with the both of them.  With Nozel for his lacking in being the strong authority he needed to be with Teris. And with Teris for being a spoiled child who knew her place but refused to accept it.

Hearing footsteps Fuegoleon cursed.  Zara was out placing traps and keeping watch as the rest of their small group recouped from the days long trek and ate.  It didn’t matter how well Zara knew the terrain if he was inept enough to let someone by him, Fuegoleon thought.

“It’s Jax.  Relax.”  Jax said.

Nozel looked up from the map he was pretending to study.  He already knew every line and curve of it without looking; but had needed something to look at and appear busy with.

The Black Bulls Captain saw Teris and Nozel sitting as far away from each other as they possibly could while still being considered part of the same camp.  He sighed.  He had been right in coming.  Nozel was too proud and too easy on Teris.  Yami wouldn’t have stood for it.  Jax remembered when he had given Yami the lead on a mission when the young man had been avoiding Teris.  Other than Iban using his magic on Teris, and Yami taking to Iban for it, the mission had been a success.  Yami and Teris putting aside their differences to work together.  But Nozel wasn’t Yami.  The royal was harsh and demanding in a completely different way.  A way that always seemed to rub Teris the wrong way.

“Captain Nozel.”  Jax said, choosing to use the title to further cement the mans place in everyone's mind.  “May I speak with Teris for a moment?”

Nozel looked at Jax wondering why her rightful Captain even bothered to asked.  Wasn’t Jax suppose to be some ruffian that went his own way?  Not caring what others thought or wanted?  He realized the Black Bulls Captain was attempting to assist him by showing him respect.  It surprised Nozel.  Everything he had heard and thought of Captain Jax had led him to believe the man incapable of such tact. Nozel nodded his assent, looking at the Captain with fresh eyes.

“Thank you.”  Jax said.  He looked down at Teris and tilted his head. “Let’s go.”

Teris look up at him, hesitating.  She had only ever feared Jax once or twice before.  His quiet, simmering anger much more frightening than Bronn’s explosive outbursts and threats that she knew the Vice Captain would never carry out on her.

“I’m not gonna tell you twice.”  Jax rumbled.

Teris quickly got to her feet and followed her Captain, a pace or two behind.

Jax stopped once they were a few yards away.  He didn’t mind that the others could still see them and were likely watching.  So long as they couldn’t hear.

Teris waited, nervousness growing the longer Jax kept his back to her. Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore and broke.  “I’m sorry. I know I never should have challenged Nozel like--”

“Captain.”

“Pardon?”

“Captain Nozel.”  Jax corrected.

“Captain Nozel.”  Teris repeated, morosely.  “It was wrong and stupid. Not the least because of where we are and what we’re facing.”

“And?” Jax prompted, looking over his shoulder at her.

“And?” Teris echoed, trying to figure out what more he wanted. Tentatively, she offered.  “I’m sorry about what I said to Captain Jamie.”

“Who cares about that ass?”  Jax turned to her and pointed.  “Don’t do that again though.  Not till you’ve been made Vice Captain. Can’t really defend you before then if Jamie decides to make a fuss.”

“And after then?”  Teris questioned, a teasing lit to her voice.

Jax tried not to roll his neck, knowing the others watching.  She and Yami really were made for each other.  And he was either a fool or a glutton for wanting the both of them to be his Vice Captain's.  Sure he was upset with Teris for challenging the Captain she was temporarily serving under, especially after Nozel had so readily shielded her from Jamie’s wrath.  Whether it was because Nozel had been being a good Captain or acting as Teris’ Intended, Jax didn’t know.  Nor did he care.  What mattered was that he hadn’t had to step in which would have only weakened Nozel’s position as acting Captain in everyone's eyes.

“Teris.” Jax sighed, closing tired eyes.

“What? Tell me what you want and I’ll do it.  I know the situation we’re in.  I know what I have to do.”

“Do you?  Cause earlier it certainly didn’t seem like it.”

Teris hammered the toe of her boot into the ground and mumble.  “So it took me a while.  But I got there eventually, didn’t I?”

“Eventually isn’t good enough and you know that.  When out in the field compliance and submission needs to be instantaneous.  Lives are on the line.  Soon our teams will be separating.  What happens then? Can I trust you to act and obey Nozel as you would me or Julius?  To treat and respect him as your Captain?  Cause that’s what he is. Forget the words temporary or acting.  Nozel Silva is your Captain.”

Fully chastised, Teris lowered her head and muttered.  “I said I was sorry.”

“Not to the right person.”

Teris’ head snapped up.  “You want me to apologize to him!”  She shook her head.  “I can’t.”

“You can and you will.”  Jax told.  “Along with the promise to listen and obey him in all things without challenge from here on out. Consider it an order from me if you must.”

“But you’re not my Captain right now.”  Teris argued, instantly regretting her words.

Jax stared down at her.  His eyes flashed dangerously.  “Is that the way you want to play this?”

Teris shook her head again.  “No, Sir.”

Jax sighed, thinking of how much Yami had rubbed off on her.  He only hoped Teris’ better habits had consequently rubbed off on Yami. “Good night then.”

“Captain.” Teris called.

Jax looked back at her.

“I really am sorry.”  Teris said.

Jax gave her a small smile.  “I know.  Just make sure he knows it too.”

Teris headed back to where she had set her pack.  While Fuegoleon and Randall had brought something to lay on, she had kept it simple.  No fabric was going to make the ground any softer anyway.  The pack carrying a couple changes of underwear and another change of clothes suited well enough as a pillow.  Having so little to carry allowed her to go on longer without tiring.  It certainly helped with the speed in which she prepared and repacked her space since all she did was drop the bag off her shoulders and pick it back up.

Plopping back down near her pack, Teris picked up her rations and continued eating the tough, chewy, tasteless thing.  She would do as Jax said; but she wasn’t about to head straight to Nozel and do it now.  It wasn’t that she cared that they had seen Jax pull her aside and speak to her.  She knew they knew what it had been about.  They probably figured her Captain had scolded her about the way she had spoken to Jamie too.  Then again they may not have, given how little they thought of and regarded Jax and the Black Bulls in general.

No, she didn’t head straight to Nozel because she wasn’t ready. Teris had known she had to apologize to Nozel before Jax had ever come.  Though her stubbornness likely would've kept her from doing so if her Captain hadn’t ordered her to.  Teris wanted the apology to at least sound somewhat repentful and knew she wouldn't be able to convey that right now.  Moreover she had no idea what she was going to say.  I’m sorry those in the hierarchy are such stupid, rude asses that get under my skin when they mistreat decent, upstanding people who in every aspect but social are better than them.  Teris didn’t think that would suffice.

Zara returned from setting the traps.  “All done, Captain.  Anyone or thing wanders over here will have a nasty surprise.

“We’re not talking bugs or small mammals.  Are we?”  Randall asked, thinking that would be tiresome.

“Anything the size of an child or larger.”  Zara answered.

“Child?” Randall repeated.

“The Diamond Kingdom often takes young promising children and begins training them to become Magic Warriors.”  Fuegoleon told.

“Takes? From their parents and homes?”  Randall asked, disturbed.

Fuegoleon nodded.

Randall made a face at that.  “Still doesn’t explain why a trap is needed for something their size.”

“They use and send them out in much the same way as Sentries.”  Teris answered, Julius having once told her.

Nozel looked over the top map and across the camp at Teris.  He found Teris looking at him and almost looked back down, but forced himself to hold her gaze.  Teris’ shoulders tightened.  But she gave in and lowered her eyes.  Jax was right.  If she didn’t get a handle on this it was goes to spell trouble and possibly cost one or more of them their lives.  She ground the heel of her boot into the earth more angry at herself than anyone else.

Why was it so difficult to respect and submit to him, she wondered. Acting or not, Nozel was her Captain.  That alone should have made her capable of obedience, even if it was distasteful.  Much as she didn’t respect the social hierarchy, she respected the Magic Knight Captain's.  Even Captain's like Jamie and Pyter; all be it not as readily as some of the others.  So why was she having so much trouble with thinking of and treating Nozel with the deference due to him as her missions Captain?  Because you grew up with and know him so well, her mind offered.  No.  That wasn’t it.  Because as your Intended, respect and obedience toward him was already expected.  Yeah.  That sounded more like it.  She was afraid that if she submitted to Nozel here and now then he would come to expect the same from her in other areas of their relationship.  Are you also afraid that obedience and deference will become habit?  Teris scoffed at her own thought. Yeah, that was never going to happen.

Feeling tired and energized all at once, Teris called to Nozel.  “Captain.”

Nozel looked up from the map no one believed he was truly studying.

“May I have first watch?”  Teris asked.

“Wake Randall in an hour and a half.”  Nozel allowed.

“Thanks.” Teris got to her feet, brushing off her pants.

“The traps start ten meters out.”  Zara called to her.

Teris gave him a nod.  Last thing she needed to do was get caught in one of his traps.  That would be embarrassing.  It’d certainly complete her shame for the day.

Making her way out as far as she dared, Teris wrapped her cloak tightly around her.  Fuegoleon had super heated a mass of stones to protect them from the cold of the night.  But away from their warmth, the constant wind bit and made her shiver.  While Teris usually preferred it colder than most given how hot she naturally ran; once passed a certain point, the cold effected her worse than others.  She found herself regretting that she had asked for first shift.  Then realized that it would only get colder as the night went on and was grateful.

Was it always this windy in the Diamond Kingdom?  Or were they still that high up despite their long descent?  She heard footsteps coming her way from the camp.

Thinking it was Fuegoleon, she told.  “You should get some sleep.”

“I don’t sleep much while out on missions.”  Nozel responded.  He offered her a cup of tea.  “Here.”

“Thanks.” Teris took the steaming mug, cupping it close to her chest, relishing the warmth.

Nozel watched her a moment.  “You alright?”

Teris turned to him.  “What’s that?”

“The cold.  Are you alight?”

“I’m fine.”  Teris assured, trying not to shiver.

Nozel fought the urge to give her his cloak, wondering if that was a Captain like thing to do.  He hated this.  Being caught between the many things he was to her.  As if being her friend and Intended who loved her wasn’t challenging enough.  And to top it off, she now knew of his feelings for her.  His kiss had bared himself open to her.  And Teris wounded him far deeper than any bitten lip.  The pain of that hidden wound still hadn’t healed.  It ripped open every time he relived her rejection in his mind.  Every time he thought of her choosing some ill-bred, uncivilized, filthy foreigner over him. Every time he touched her and she pulled away.  Or any other countless instances.  It was a wound that would never scar because it would never heal.

“Nozel.” Teris growled at herself.  “Captain.  I’m sorry.  There’s no excuse for my earlier behavior.  It was unbecoming and won’t happen again.  I promise.”

Nozel stared at her, waiting for her to give some deflective reasoning or excuse despite her having said there was no excuse.  When it didn’t come, he realized she was fully serious and making a concerted effort.  Her willingness to take full responsibility without excuse was proof that she was seriously contrite and trying to rectify it, and not make the same mistake again.  As badly as he wanted to tell her not to worry about it, he knew that was him and not his rank talking.

Still, Nozel forgave too easily.  “It’s in the past.  Just make sure it stays there.”

“Yes, Sir.”  Teris said, angry at herself for bristling slightly when he didn’t down play her actions.

Having that done and out of the way, they both relaxed.  Being a Magic Knights Captain was difficult and tiring; but being Teris’ Captain was difficult, tiring, and confusing.  It left Nozel questioning himself; something he wasn’t accustomed to doing and knew he shouldn’t be doing at this time and place.

“I think I will try to get some sleep.”  Nozel said, thinking it best to leave her to her duties.

“I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself.  Thanks for the tea, Captain.”

Nozel gave a small huff.  This was so unexpected and new for all of them. He wondered if they’d manage to get use to it before it was over.

68.2

Just because the sun went down didn’t mean the fighting stopped; even though Bronn wished to mana that it would.  This was their third battle in two days, and the longest one at that.  Bronn had no time to envy Jax.  Or curse his Captain for not taking him.  He didn’t have time to hate his Captain for leaving him under the fiery Lioness who fought harder and fiercer than anyone, and expected the same of those serving under her.

As much as Bronn hated to admit it, Mereoleona scared him we she got like this.  It was one of the main reasons he had come to fancy her in the first place.  But all of that was in the past.  His long held feelings for Mereoleona had ended as his feelings for Gilly had grown.  Now he loved his betrothed so much that he listened and obeyed her better than he listened to and obeyed Jax.

Bronn had always figured the sweet, tender ones wouldn’t do it for him. Thinking that he needed someone that scared him a little from time to time to get the job done.  Turns out he just hadn’t met the right sweet one.  He didn’t need to fear Gilly to want to please her over himself.  His fear of her disappointment was enough if ever he wanted to go his own way or do his own thing.

He’d certainly disappoint Gilly if he died out here.  Which was the main reason why Bronn had contented himself to following Yami about, playing support to the younger mans aggressive lead.  Problem was, on the battlefield Yami scared him almost as much as Mereoleona did. Even without his little Black Sheep, the Lord of Destruction was destructive.  After going on like that during the first two battles, Bronn had thought Yami would slow.  But the little shit didn’t. Instead, Yami was just as energetic and deadly as he had been at the start.  Bronn chalked it up to youth.

Anyone who looked at Yami and Bronn probably thought they were similar type of men.  And much as Bronn hated to admit it, there were a few similarities.  That said, the two had some rather stark differences. And it was those differences, not similarities that made them clash and hate each other.  While neither were men of typical honor so to speak.  Yami was a man of principle.  Where as Bronn’s standards changed depending on too many variables to count.  It was true that both men didn’t respect much.  But once Yami’s respect was earned, it was like an unmovable wall that would take something cataclysmic to shake and tear down.  Bronn on the other hand had to have his trust and respect constantly earned.  Even with Jax.  It was why Bronn constantly challenged his friend and Captain, subconsciously checking for weakness.

And maybe the biggest difference, or at least the one that bothered Bronn the most, was that Yami had absolutely no shame.  As much as Bronn acted as if he didn’t care, and wanted people to believe that he didn’t.  Bronn cared very much about his image.  Unless you were one of the few that Yami Sukehiro truly cared about, the younger man didn’t give a rats ass what you thought about him.  Even if you were one of the few he cared for, chances are Yami wasn’t going to change.  Yami didn’t care.  You could find him in any situation, no matter how compromising, and Yami would shrug it off and continue on without blush or care.  Bronn would've given almost anything to be someone like Yami with literally no shame or care of what others thought.  Not that he’d ever admit it.  Bronn would rather kill himself than let his envy of the little shit be discovered.

“Yami!” Bronn yelled.  “You’re crossing too far into their line.”

“What’s the matter old man?  Can’t keep up?”  Yami taunted, sending out a dark cloaked slash before the enemy could get their spell off.

Bronn used his magic to transport Yami back to his side.  “No, you idiot! I’m not blind.  Nor do I want to die on this cursed, barren foreign land.  Open your damn eyes!”

Bronn’s hand swung sharply.  He fully expected to miss Yami’s head, accustomed to Yami ducking away.  So when Bronn actually hit him, he felt a moment of cruel satisfaction.  Then quickly realized what it meant.  Yami was more tired than he appeared.  Bronn ignored that fact because they were at war and all of them were tired despite it only having been two days.

The Vice Captain gestured to the Magic Warriors.  “They’re baiting you, you fool.  Looking to draw you in so they can surround you and be done with you.”

“They can try.”  Yami said, staring at the three Magic Warriors he had been pursuing.

Bronn slapped at Yami’s head again, figuring it would connect and maybe, if he were lucky, knock some sense into the younger man.

Yami ducked out of the way.  Looking at the Vice Captain, he told.  “You got the first one for free.  So what do you want to do?  Turn tail and run?”

“Watch yourself, boy.  I’ll whip your tail raw.”  Bronn saw the three Magic Warriors turn and slowly make their way back to resume the fight.  “They’re coming back for more.  Hold this line and go no further unless I tell you.”

“I’m not all that good at listening to you.”  Yami said, fingers opening and closing along the hilt of his katana in effort to relax the muscles in his hand.

“Don’t I know it.”  Bronn grumbled.  He pointed at him.  “You go five meters further and I bring you back.  Don’t make me go wasting mana or I’ll kick your ass.”

“It must kill you.  Having to look after me like this.”  Yami said, eyes on his foe.

“More than you know.”  Bronn said, readying his own magic.

“Yeah, well I don’t like it much either.”  Yami growled.  “I can take care of myself.  Was doing so long before Julius found me.”

“And tell me smart ass.  How many lunatic zealots and gangs of hired killers were after you back then?”  When Yami didn’t reply, Bronn sniffed.  “Didn’t think so.  Just know this is all your fault.  I wouldn’t be stuck babysitting.  And you wouldn't be in danger if you had listened to me.  I told you from day one to stay away from that royal girl.”

“Again. I don’t listen to you all that well.”  Yami said.

Bronn growled, hand lifting to smack him again.  Instead of making the futile move, he barked.  “Hurry up and take the smaller two.  I’ll take the big one.”

“I want the big one.”  Yami said.

Bronn glared.  “I’ll transport you back to Castle City if you don’t obey me, boy.”  He caught sight of one the eight Shining Generals headed their way.  “Better yet, you take those three.”  He said, right before stepping through a portal.  He fell through another that opened directly over the General.

Yami took in the three Magic Warriors that stalked closer.  They looked as tired as he felt.  Still, he had something they didn’t.  A driving need for revenge.  “You guys know where I can find a Magic Warrior named Lotus Whomalt? Uses smoke magic.  Black hair.  Goatee.  Annoyingly talkative and lazy.”

Two of the Magic Warriors looked at each other wondering if this was some sort of tactic.

Yami pointed at the third.  “You.  I can tell you know exactly who I’m talking about.  Where is he?”

“He’s serving under Commander Fanzell.” The Magic Warrior answered.

“And where is this Commander Fanzell?”  Yami questioned.

“He’s--” The Mage turned to point.

The other two Magic Warriors also turned, looking in the direction Commander Fanzell’s squad was posted.  Yami struck out at them, slicing the two down.  Before the third could react, he charged. Turning his katana so the blunt end faced out, he sent out another slash.  This one not fatal.  It hit the Magic Warrior in the chest and sent him flying.

Yami lept, landing on the Magic Warrior just as the Mage hit the ground.   “Point again. Wasn’t paying attention the first time.”

Hand shaking, the Magic Warrior pointed.

“Arigatou.” Yami made a fist and punched him, knocking him out.  If he saw the Mage again he’d kill him.  But it seemed rude to do so when the man had been of help. He stood and looked over to see Bronn battling some burly man with a really hairy chest.

“You good?”  Yami called to the Vice Captain.

“What do you think!”  Bronn huffed, struggling against the equivalent of a Magic Knights Captain.  On top of that the General was still fresh, having not participated in the first two battles.

“Good. I’m going over there.”  Yami pointed.

“The hell you are!”  Bronn barked. “Yami.  Yami!”  He glanced back seeing Yami already making his way.  Then cursed and lept through a portal, barely missing having his head skewered.

The General gave a bellowing laughed.  “Your friend’s a fool.”

“Not my friend.  Though he is a fool.”  Bronn glanced at Yami.  The idiot was fighting his way deeper into the Diamond Kingdoms line.

The General laughed again.  “My men are fond of ridding the world of fools.  As we speak, they gather to rid the Clover Kingdom of yet another of their beloved Magic Knights.”

Bronn scanned the area Yami was entering, seeing that the General was right.  Yami’s presence so far into their line hadn’t gone unnoticed and the Magic Warriors were all but licking their chops as they waited just a few more seconds before the order came to pounce.

“Damn it.  I’m getting too old for this.”  Bronn cursed.

Mereoleona landed behind him.  “I agree.  You had one job.  And you couldn’t even do that.”

“You try to control that bastard brat!”  Bronn snapped.

“Fine then.  I was going to send you and take over here but--” Mereoleona lept away in Yami’s direction.  “Good luck.”

The General watched Mereoleona go, insulted. “You Magic Knights must think so little of us to jest so freely.”  He pulled more red ochre up from the earth.  “I’ll rectify that and teach you what a Magic Warrior General is really capable of.”

“Oh, no.”  Bronn assured.  “She wasn’t joking.  She just hates me that much.  I assure you.  There’s no need to go all out and show me anything.  I know you’re scary.”

“Ha!” The General laughed.  “Even the thought of my full power--”

The Shining General fell over.  Bronn felt more of his mana drain away at having portaled three powerful magical attacks from elsewhere on the battlefield, directing them at the Shining General.  The man had been able to sense his portals when they were close; but clearly when opened from a distance that sense was useless.  The General never expected one, let alone three attacks to come at him from behind.  No doubt there would be hell to pay for those Magic Warriors once the General regained consciousness.  Right now, Bronn had some of his own hell to dish out.

Mereoleona landed facing Yami, sending out a blast of fire in a hundred and eighty degree arc behind her.  “What the hell do you think you’re doing! Get back to the line.”  At Yami’s determined expression, Mereoleona’s snapping tone became dangerous.  “I swear, if you challenge me it’ll be the last thing you do.”

Yami growled but did as he was commanded.

“Bunch of Black Bulls idiots.”  Mereoleona muttered.

Seeing Yami strolling sedately back, the Crimson Lions Captain created a fiery lion.  It picked Yami up by the scruff of the neck and raced back behind their lines.

Yami cursed and kicked, swiping his katana at the thing the entire way. It dropped him in front of Tobin as if to tell the other Black Bull that Yami was his problem now.

“It’s a magical creation.”  Tobin said, looking down at his friend.  “You weren’t gonna harm it without cloaking your blade.”

“And have that She-Lion make it snap my neck.  I think not.”  Yami huffed.

“You got a way of pissing people off.”  Tobin remarked.

“I was just going after that coward Whomalt.”  Yami told.

“Don’t know who that is.  Nor do care.”  Tobin said. “You got to learn to obey orders or you won’t live to be promoted to Vice Captain, let alone see Teris again.”

Yami rubbed the back of his neck.  He hoped Teris was having an easier time of it than he was.  In all honesty, Yami was struggling.  This was only the second day; but he already felt at his wits ends. Unlike a battle, the process of war was slow and tedious.

He understood they were meant to be a distraction.  But if they didn’t press harder, the enemy would figure out something was up.  Not to mention the lives that would be lost for nothing.  Still, he did have to do better at following commands; no matter how stupid they were. If he didn’t obey, Mereoleona would put at the back of the line. Then he really would be struggling.  He wouldn’t be able to bare having to stay back and watch while others fought.

Still seated on the ground, Yami looked up at Tobin.  “Why are you back here?”

“Captain Heath is cycling us after a certain time no matter what.”  Tobin answered.

Yami huffed.  “That’s stupid.”

“Actually, I thought it pretty reasonable and smart.”  Tobin said.

Yami leaned forward, forearms on his knees.  “So you cycle through no matter what?  Even if you’re close to knocking or taking out whoever you’re fighting?”

Tobin nodded.  Leave it to Yami to bring up the one point he hadn’t liked about it all.

“Like I said.  Stupid.”  Yami remarked.

“Talking about yourself.”  Bronn snapped, kicking at Yami.

Yami rolled out of the way and onto his knees.  He pushed to his feet. Bronn grabbed him by the back of the neck.  Yami tolerated it, knowing it would go much worse for him if he ducked away this time.

Yami smirked seeing how high Bronn had to reach to grasp him.  His latest grow spurt had seen him taller than the Vice Captain by a good couple of inches.

Seeing Yami’s smug grin, Bronn squeezed harder, pushing him down.  He hated how the little bastard still looked defiantly up at him.  Once, just once Bronn wanted to give Yami Sukehiro a real lesson.

“Bronn! Let him go!”  Mereoleona commanded.

Bronn gave all he had into one last squeeze before doing as ordered.

“You.” She pointed at Tobin.  “Get back out there.”

“But it’s not my turn.”  Tobin said.

“Are all you Black Bulls incapable of following simple commands!” Mereoleona demanded.  “Get back out there!”

Tobin did as he was told, vowing that he wasn’t going to be the one to get into trouble with Captain Heath over this.

Mereoleona turned to Bronn.  “You too.”

“I used nearly all I had--”

“Nearly.” Mereoleona cut in.  “Come back when you’ve used it all.”

Bronn sneered at Yami before heading back to the front of the line.

“What am I going to do with you?”  Mereoleona asked Yami.  “I can see why Jax and Julius like you.  But you’re certainly not one of mine. You’re difficult.  Unpredictable.  And will endanger lives if you go on like this.  I can’t have that.”

“I--”

“Shut up!’  Mereoleona snarled.

Yami clamped his mouth shut knowing what was coming.  But if he argued his case it would only further Mereoleona’s belief that she was right.

“You’re to stay back here until I say otherwise.  Give the others rations. Drink.  Anything they need.  I see you out there before I tell you to go and I’ll send you back to Headquarters in disgrace.  You understand me.”

“Yes, sir.”  Yami grumbled.

Mereoleona softened the slightest bit.  As a fighter herself, she understood Yami’s desire to push harder and not just keep the line.  But those weren’t their orders.

“I don’t do this as punishment.”  She told.  “Not that you don’t deserve one.  I’m doing it for our benefit, including yours.  Learn this lesson quickly and prove to me you can obey.  Who knows, maybe in a day or two I’ll let you back out there.”

“A day or two!”  Yami exclaimed.

“You got a problem with that!”  Mereoleona barked.  What was it with these damned Black Bulls challenging everything?

“Sir.” Yami growled his acceptance, having a very big problem with it.

68.3

Alowishus crumpled the parchment he had just deciphered and read.  He turned, scowling at the skull on the shelf behind his desk; as if it had created this mess that endangered all of his plans.  Looking away from the skull in disgust, Alowishus roared.  “Calen!”

“Master!” Calen entered in a rush ready for anything.  Seeing no threat he relaxed somewhat.  “Yes, Master?”

“Gather the Agents.  Call our nearest forces back.”  Alowishus ordered.

Calen bowed.  “Yes, Master.”

“Have someone else do it.  I want you right back.”  Alowishus told.

Calen bowed once more.  He exited and relayed his Master’s commands, noticing how some of the others looked at him.  Specifically Slade and Himmel who had grown increasingly jealous over his rise in their Master’s favor since Erskin’s death.  Not that Calen cared.  He lived to serve the Master.  Not make friends.  Reentering Alowishus’ private sanctuary, Calen bowed once more and waited, watching his Master pace.

“Those fools!”  Alowishus threw out a hand, a fast rolling black cloud left his fingertips.  It hit a wooden cabinet and the stone wall behind it.

Calen flinched as both turned to ash.  At the shift in weight, the stone above the missing section cracked.  The sound a loud echoing clap of thunder.

It was rare to see Alowishus use his true, natural magic.  The remnant of magic that remained in the anatomy he replaced via corpse magic offered him enough power that he rarely needed to.  There was also the fact that Alowishus’ death magic was an omega force that was both powerful and permanent.

If the wall and furniture had been a human, even one with a full mana cloak, they would’ve been reduced to the same pile of dust.  Just being around Alowishus while he was cloaked in mana would slowly wither and decay a person.  Calen had no idea how Julius Nova had managed to battle the Master for as long as he had without showing signs of ill effect.

“That prideful child of a King has declared war against the Diamond Kingdom.”  Alowishus explained, turning to Calen.  “And that weak fool Sir Jorah has done nothing to stop it.  Yami and Teris have been sent to war.  Our hope for the next existence is in danger.”

Calen blinked, horrified.  Unlike his predecessor, he was careful to show Alowishus’ wife the respect she was due, at least when in front of the Master.

Carefully, Calen questioned.  “Lady Ellara could not effect the King or Wizard King to change their minds or end their life?”

“You think she wouldn’t have done so if she had the chance?  I told her to be careful.  Not to take any unnecessary risks.  She must remain above suspicion.  Her being present to oversee the next steps leading up to Yami’s time are of vital importance.”

“But that means nothing if they die while fighting some war.”  Calen said, emotion getting the better of him.

“Which is why she took the risk to send a letter informing me.”  Alowishus said, dangerously.

Hearing his Master's temper, Calen lowered his head.  “Of course, Master. I meant no disrespect to the esteemed Lady Ellara.”

It would serve no purpose to become cross with the man, Alowishus thought.  He was a hard enough taskmaster as it was.  The promise he had sold these fools would see his own aims met.  But for that, he had to play the part.

“I know you didn’t.  The situation is a disturbing one.”  Alowishus said, truthfully.

“If I may ask, what do you plan to do?”

“Send teams to guard Yami and Teris from afar.  And pay a personal visit to King Morris.”

“But, Master!  The last time you and Morris King saw one another he said he would kill you on sight.”

Alowishus laughed bitterly.  “Do you truly believe Morris or anyone else on this earth is capable of killing Death?”

“N—no.” Calen answered, afraid he had insulted his Master.

“You show your care for me in worrying so.  But you also show how little you think of your Master.”

“Master! I would never--”

“It’s alright.  I will soon show you what Death is truly capable of.  And if Morris challenges me, then you will see a glimpse all the sooner.”

******PLEASE READ******Next chapter WARNING******

There is an assault scene next chapter with the intention of sexual assault and rape.   Neither sexual assault or rape happen but I know such things can be upsetting for people.  If anyone would like me to mark the scene so they can skip it please comment or message me.   Doing a format edit for this would take some time since my wp and ao3 don't speak the same language which is why I'm not doing it right off the bat (and all my updates happen there first).  But I have no problem doing it if someone needs me to.

Thank you to those who have left hearts.  And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently left comments or re-blogged. They really mean a lot.

Next chapter snippet:

Fuegoleon looked up at Beast refusing to be intimated.  The name, though not creative, suited the man.  Beast had to be nearly seven feet tall. He was built like a mountain, his muscles seeming to have muscles. Though Fuegoleon had seen a number of men who were bigger than Tobin Giantsbane and Yami Sukehiro, he had never seen a person that made the two Black Bulls seem small.  Till now.

[reifromrfa]

Be Happy: Zen x MC

MM Angst week Day 3: Danger | Death

~

Hey guys! Here’s my entry for day 3 of @mmangstweek ! This was both thrilling and heartbreaking to write, and I hope I was able to deliver the idea and message clearly! There’s a song that accompanies it, which I totally urge you to listen to on loop as you read the story.

You can listen to the song, “Take Her to the Moon” by Moira dela Torre, HERE. She’s a Filipina artist and I really love her style and her songs ^^ Don’t worry though, the song’s in English! If you don’t want the song on repeat, I advise you to play it when you see the ♪ in the fic :) 

I hope you guys enjoy the fic, and happy angst week! ;)

_____________________________________________

Be Happy: Zen x MC

He doesn't notice when the city buildings turn to trees, when the day turns to night. Everything passes by him in a blur, his crimson eyes watching the road but at the same time, seeing something else. In his mind, all he can see are a pair of hazel eyes, twinkling in the moonlight.

Zen revs the engine and his motorcycle speeds past the main road and onto the path leading to his secret place, the place only a handful of his friends know about. An ironic smile crosses his face; the CEO-in-line is one of those people. But his heart clenches when he remembers Jumin standing beside him that day.

That day...

He shakes his head. Not yet. Not now.

~

Zen closes his eyes and listens as the sounds of the guitar fill the room, a serene smile plastered on his face. His head is propped on the arm of their sofa, body stretched out as the warm afternoon sun filters in from the small basement window. The voice of an angel fills the room and he can't help but fall in love with her all over again. 

"...So before we say I do, would you please hold me close tonight

Be with me"

Zen opens his eyes and gazes at MC, sitting on the other end of the couch by his feet. Her brown hair is piled messily on top of her head, her eyeglasses slipping down her nose as she leans forward and hastily scribbles musical notes and lyrics onto her notebook. Then when she's done, she straightens and readjusts her guitar on her lap.

But when she notices his eyes on her, MC turns to her boyfriend and giggles. "What?"

Zen grins. "Jagiya, have I ever told you how beautiful you are?"

MC's cheeks turn pink but she nudges his feet with her leg. "I think you mentioned it before, but I don't mind hearing it again." Then she laughs. "But not when I'm like this! I didn't even comb my hair today!"

Zen sits up, his eyes bright. "Ya, Jagi, this is exactly why you're beautiful. You don't have to do anything, you don't have to dress up or even comb your hair." He moves his legs and scoots closer to MC. Zen's fingers brush her cheek and he sees her get redder. "You're an angel, MC. My gorgeous angel."

MC reaches up and touches his hand, then turns her face so her lips can kiss his fingers. "Hyun, I love you. You're too sweet and charming for your own good, mister! I don't want to be an angel though, I just want to be a simple girl who's in love with a handsome knight~"

Zen traces her lips with his fingers and he feels her body tensing, her lips parting as she inhales sharply. "No...you're definitely an angel, MC. Maybe an angel who lives on the moon. And every time there's a full moon, you'd come to earth and grace the knight with your presence."

MC pouts, grabbing his wrist and pulling his fingers away from her lips before she combusts on the spot. "But Zenny, that's too tragic. It means I won't get to see you all the time?"

"Don't all love stories have a little bit of tragedy in them? Besides," Zen says, inching closer to her. "One day, the knight will find a way so the angel doesn't have to go back to the lonely moon. And they'll spend the rest of their lives happily on earth, together."

MC is grinning from ear to ear, knowing her boyfriend is now lost in the script he's created. "But Hyun, what if the angel has friends on the moon?"

Zen pretends to mull it over, his face scrunching up in concentration. He shrugs and says, "Then I guess the knight will have to find a flying horse so he can take her back to the moon. And when they're flying, she can hold onto his waist tightly." 

MC laughs out loud. "Hyun! She's an angel! She can fly!"

"I know, but she'd want to be as close to the knight as possible, right? He's so good-looking that she won't be able to resist the excuse of holding onto him tightly."

MC lightly smacks her forehead with her palm before nodding seriously. "You're right. I didn't think of that. She'd totally bury her face on his back and take the opportunity to feel those abs under the knight's shirt..."

A wicked grin spreads on his face. "His abs...? Jagi...didn't I tell you all men are wolves? Even the knight will end up unleashing his beast on the sweet, innocent angel."

MC winks. "Maybe the angel wants to be corrupted a little~"

"She does?" He shifts in his seat until he's only a few inches away from her. MC shakes her head.

"Ya, ya! Hyun, I need to finish this song by this week!" MC protests, scooting away. But Zen reaches for her waist and MC squeals as he pulls her closer to him.

"But my angel," he says in a low voice. "When the morning comes, we'll have to part once more." His crimson eyes are full of sincerity and MC has to remind herself how to breathe. "So tonight...grant me this moment with you."

"Zen--"

His lips find her neck and MC gasps, then moans as he sucks on her collarbone. "H-Hyun..."

Zen grabs her guitar and takes it off her hands, placing it on the floor before he reaches for the hem of her shirt...

"Hyun."

"Mmm?" he murmurs, tongue playfully licking her skin. He feels MC's hands on his shoulders as she pushes him away. Before he could ask what's wrong, MC has already stood up, heading for the kitchen.

"Jagi? What's wrong?" Zen asks. He moves the guitar so he doesn't step on it and that's when his eyes notice the drop of blood on the smooth surface of the instrument. "Jagi?" Zen stands and goes to his girlfriend, who's reaching for a hand towel.

"Sorry, babe. Just a nosebleed. Total turn-off, I know!" She laughs.

~

He reaches his secret place and Zen finds a spot to park his motorcycle. Then, the silver-haired actor walks to the edge of the cliff that overlooks the city. In the dark, the lights twinkle and glisten beautifully. Once, he found them beautiful. Hell...MC called this view "dazzling". And she's right, it is. But it's not the same now...

Zen swallows the painful lump in his throat but he can't stop the stinging of his eyes as hot tears begin to blur his vision.

The day MC got that nosebleed was the start of it all...the start of the end. The nosebleeds got more frequent until he took her to see a doctor...where they were given the news that MC was sick. 

Zen remembers all those damn tests, being in and out of the hospital. How MC started to look paler, thinner. The entire RFA doing their best to help. The CEO-in-line even bought them plane tickets to see the best doctors in different countries.

But their diagnosis never changed. The numbers did...the numbers that sent fear into Zen's very core.

"Two years."

"Nine months."

"Twelve weeks."

They all said they could do the treatments, of course. Different treatments that could help ease her pain, help her get better. Who knows, maybe their predictions were wrong...miracles happen everyday after all, right?

In those days, Zen realized that hospitals all smelled the same...hospitals all looked the same. No matter where they were, he saw the same, familiar white walls. God, he grew to hate those white walls. But it didn't matter, because the woman who brought color to his life would be there, in that dull, colorless room, smiling at him.

Zen reaches inside his leather jacket for his pack of cigarettes, grabbing a stick and putting it between his lips. Taking his lighter in his hands, he raises it to the cigarette but hesitates. MC always told him to stop smoking, that it isn't good for his health. She's right, of course...but...

With a sigh, Zen pockets his lighter and puts the cigarette back into the pack. MC would be sad if she saw him smoking again. Instead, he plugs his earphones into his ears and goes to her playlist.

The one she specially made for him, the one she left for him.

He clicks play and shoves his phone back into his pocket. Zen lays his arms on the metal railing, leaning forward and continuing to stare at the city skyline without really seeing. Because now he lets his tears flow freely down his cheeks.

"Zenny! Haha...babe. If you're listening to this right now, you must be missing me. I miss you too, Hyun. I hope you've had your meal, and that you're somewhere warm and comfortable. But if you're on the subway, then be safe, okay~? And I hope you're smiling right now. Because I'm about to serenade you with my beautiful angelic voice! So..." MC makes a show of clearing her throat and Zen gives a small chuckle, imagining her face. "Without further ado, here's MC's top ten billboard hits!"

His ears are filled with the strumming of the guitar strings and Zen closes his eyes, picturing her in their living room, tirelessly working on her songs. He imagines her messy hair, the loose strands he's always itching to brush away...the crease between her eyebrows when she struggles with her lyrics or the chords. Her lips parting when she's staring at her notebook, lost in thought. The way she scratches her nose when she's annoyed or frustrated.

Song after song, Zen keeps the image of his beloved MC in his head, until the playlist goes to the last track and his heart twists painfully in his chest.

This was the last song she sang publicly...

~

"Zen, let's go to the cafe tomorrow."

Zen looks up from his phone, eyes focusing on MC beside him in their bed. The hospital released her, saying she could stay home as long as Zen watches over her and she takes her medications. Her next treatment is already scheduled and Zen's just grateful to have her home, so MC doesn't need to be trapped in that stifling hospital any longer.

"Tomorrow?" Zen glances at the calendar on his phone --Wednesday night. "Tomorrow is open mic, Jagi. You want to see the new performers?"

MC shakes her head. "I want to sing, Hyun."

Zen stares at her, processing her words. Slowly, he nods. He wouldn't be the one to stop her from doing what she wants, not now. In his head, he's already thinking about the medications he'll need to bring, where her thick jacket is.

"Okay, babe. Sure, let's do it!" He smiles and kisses her cheek, wanting to stay positive for her. "I want to see my girlfriend perform."

Zen announces it to the RFA, of course. And the following night, everyone is there, seated around a table as the lights dim and MC walks up the stage. Zen watches her by the side of the stage, heart swelling with pride. Under the small spotlight, MC is glowing. He's certain the cafe patrons wouldn't even notice how loose her sweater is, only how beautifully the brown-haired singer is as she sits on the stool and adjusts the microphone.

"Good evening," MC says into the mic, her cool voice making the cafe clients turn their heads to her. "I'd like to share with you an original song I've been working on for quite a while now." MC smiles. "I dedicate this to someone special...a knight who likes to gaze at the full moon."

Zen's eyes widen.

She laughs into the microphone. "I know this probably doesn't make sense, but it's a silly tale my boyfriend told me. And...and I'd like to dedicate this song to him. I hope you all enjoy."

MC's fingers start strumming and her body sways slightly as she gets into the mood of her song. Zen stands there breathlessly, awaiting the moment her voice reaches his soul. Finally, MC opens her mouth and starts singing.

♪"I know it's been a while since our eyes last met

Too many words were left unsaid

Your head was poking out of the driver's seat

Eyes full of tears, I couldn't leave"

"Couldn't...leave...?"

Zen can feel dread seeping into his bones, but even if fear is making its way into his heart, he can't look away from the angel pouring her heart out on stage. The entire room is quiet, everyone enchanted by MC. 

♪"No matter what I do I still feel you coming back to me

When I know that you never will

So before I say goodbye, would you do one last thing for me

Be happy"

"No...no, babe. Don't say goodbye. Don't say goodbye. I can't be happy without you."

♪"And take, take her to the moon for me"

"Her? MC...Jagi, no."

"Take her like you promised me"

"You still remember the knight's promise to the angel? Haha...Jagi, you're adorable."

♪"Say you love her every time like how you told me the last time"

"But what are you saying? This is...no. Why are you telling me this?"

♪"Someday I know we'll meet again

In heaven by the rainbow's end"

"Yes, Jagi. Yes, I'll be there with you, I'll meet you there."

♪"And I only wish you happiness

Until we meet again"

"But MC please. You have to know...You have to know you're the only woman I'll ever love."

Zen leans against the wall as the words sink into his head, into his heart. The song...her words. He understands what she's trying to tell him. To find another, to love again when she...

God. Zen bites his lower lip to keep himself from crying. He's still holding out hope that everything will be alright. He knows his MC will pull through this, they'll be able to overcome this. So why...why is she singing this? Why is she telling him this?

He can feel the glances from the RFA's table but he can't tear his eyes away from the love of his life. Her enchanting voice resounds around the room as she begins the second verse.

♪"Wish I could stick around and fight back your tears

Tell you 'My love, I'm still here'"

Zen feels his tears slipping down his cheeks. The weight of their situation hits him and the truth is suddenly too real, too suffocating. He finally allows himself to understand...

♪“Someday we'll understand why I had to leave

But for now I need you to set me free"

...that he may need to live the rest of his life without her by his side.

♪"No matter where you are

You'll always have my heart"

Zen smiles sadly, nodding to himself. His love knows him too well. She knows how he's been in denial of their situation, how he's been trying so hard to stay positive, to reassure her that everything will be alright. But he knows, he knows what she's trying to say.

♪"No matter where you are

I'll love you from afar"

"Zenny, there's a chance you'll have to let me go. Whether we like it or not...we'll be parted. But know that it's you, it's you I'll always love. Don't be scared, Zenny. This is only temporary...don't be scared, my knight."

Zen is smiling despite his tears. She is a woman like no other he's ever met in his entire existence and even in this terrifying moment of uncertainty for their future, her future...he can't help but love her more. In this moment, as she bares her heart out on stage, he wants to run to her and hold her in his arms and tell her again and again how much he loves her. To scream to the cafe, to the world how much this woman means to him, how she is his and he is hers, forever.

The room is silent, no one dares to break the solemn moment, the beautiful, heartfelt melody of the woman touching each of their hearts.

Jaehee is already crying, her heart breaking as MC's message rings around the space. Yoosung has his head bowed, eyes hidden. But there's no mistaking that his shoulders are shaking. Saeyoung puts an arm around Yoosung's shoulder, pulling the youngest member to him and giving him a gentle squeeze. His own eyes are wet, but Saeyoung swallows his tears, not wanting MC to see him cry too. 

Jumin has his eyes closed, arms crossed in front of him. Jihyun knows his best friend must be aware of the message behind MC's song. He sees Jumin swallowing, eyebrows knit, and Jihyun swipes at his cheek to wipe away his own tears. His turquoise eyes search the room to find Hyun. He spots the actor near the stage, tears streaming down his face. But there's a faint smile on Zen's face, his attention riveted to his love.

♪"No matter what I do I still feel you coming back to me

When I know that you never will

So before I say goodbye, would you do one last thing for me

Be happy"

"I'll always love you, my angel...my princess...my MC. Jagi, I get it. I get it. I'll still fight for you, I'll fight for you until the very end, MC. I'll pray for that miracle.

But loving another...taking another to the moon. Haha, sometimes I feel like I don't deserve such a wonderful, brave, talented, amazing woman like you. I'm sorry...I can't take another to the moon. Because if...if...if you leave me...

I know you'll be there on the moon, waiting for me. For your knight.

Thank you, Jagi, for wanting happiness for me. I'll be happy...don't worry, I'll be happy. As best I can. But you're the only one I want to take to the moon. The only one I'll go to the moon for. Silly girl...I love you so much, MC. I love you."

~

They had seven more blissful months together before she was taken from him. Zen listens to MC singing in his ear, the voice he misses so much so close and yet...so far out of his reach. He gazes at the full moon in the clear sky, eyes glistening with tears.

"MC," he says out loud, as though he's talking to the moon. "My moon angel. I did what you asked...I took the love of my life to the moon. That's right...one year ago today. I took her to the moon. She was smiling at me before we parted."

Zen sniffs and smiles before he continues. "I told her everyday how much I love her. I still tell her, in my dreams. And you know what, Jagi? I also told her...that no matter where she is,

she'll always have my heart."

His heart is aching, longing for the one he loves and Zen breaks down, allowing himself to cry. Today is her death anniversary, after all. He's allowed to cry, he's allowed to let himself miss her and be weak. The actor braves each day without her by his side...and he tries his best to live, to be happy like he promised her. Even though he has to walk each day alone, he doesn't mind; he's still very much in love with the woman who infiltrated their chatroom so many years ago. 

As the song comes to an end, MC's laugh rings in his ears.

"Tada! I may have changed the lyrics for this song a little, Hyun...But I love you too much to let those genes go to waste! Haha, so love, don't be afraid to love again, okay? Hyun...I know our time was cut short but know that I love you so much and you made me so happy. Everyday was a wonderful melody with you, my knight. I love you..."

"No matter where you are, MC," he whispers, voice trembling. "You'll always have my heart. No matter where you are...I'll love you from afar. And one day, we'll meet again, like we promised, babe. I'll go to the moon if I have to. I know you wanted me to find a girl, so I wouldn't be alone...but I already have someone I love. I'm just waiting for the day we meet again."

Hyun Ryu stays there for a while longer, gazing at the moon and wondering if she's watching him from the heavens. 

When it was time to leave, he takes a deep breath and wipes his tears. She may be gone, but his love for her will never fade, never wane. And someday, they'll meet again...he honestly believes that. But for now, while they're apart...he'd like to keep one promise that she asked from him.

...

MC’s fingers hovers over the stop button. She wanted her last words to him to be positive. No more goodbyes, no heartaches...no pain. She wanted him to remember her with that dazzling smile on his face.

She grins despite the tears in her eyes. Leaning into the microphone, she says:

"Hyun Ryu, you'll always have my heart. I love you. Be happy."

She ends the recording.

"Be happy."

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I’d love to know your thoughts for this ^^; Thank you so much for reading, guys <3 More angst to come!...if I can finish them on time hahaha :))

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Check out my other Mysme writings here!

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[aweebwrites]

Allies Ch2

Warning!!

Super brief mention of attempted murder of an unhatched child and murder. Mentions of blood and an organ but nothing too graphic.

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Lloyd made no sound as his sword clashed against Kozu's, quickly jumping back once he swung his sword at his stomach. He then charged in again, sword held back as he pinpointed a source of weakness in the Stone General's defense. His eyes darted left suddenly, seeing a concentrated shot of magic heading his way. He looked back to Kozu and found the General swinging right at him with all four sets of blades then smirked. He launched himself up, using his butterfly katanas as a boost to flip over the general, the shot of magic blasting his swords out of his hands. Lloyd used the momentum of his flip to plant his feet on Kozu's back then pushed himself off, the force making the Stone Warrior stumble forward as Lloyd fell into a roll then pushed himself back up on his feet again. He then jabbed the hilt of his sword backwards, smirking once a grunt sounded.

"Not bad kid." Cryptor says as he dropped his cloaking magic.

"Indeed." Kozu agrees, gathering his swords.

They've trained with Lloyd every day for various hours, never once bringing the same tactic twice. It was the Emperor's order to train him but their will to go this far. Having a weak Prince was not ideal, especially with the loss of sight in his right eye as a child. That wasn't quite what kept them motivated to their duties unlike one Pythor. They were the ones who saw that day what happens when anyone harms the Emperor's son. As beings who are often seen as soulless puppets by the Kingdom of Fulgor, they felt true fear that day. Kozu wiped his sword clean before placing them in their holders on his back then turned to where Cryptor was delivering their usual post training recommendations.

The Knights will be no match for Lloyd on their own, worse still with the three chief generals at his side. The sun sets on this day. The morrow will begin the journey to end this war spanning millennia upon millennia. Kozu looked towards the higher level of the castle, sensing that the Emperor was watching them. Lo and behold, there was his dark figure, red eyes piercing as he watched his son. Kozu’s cape fluttered as he contemplated this man he served. This… Oni. He fought along his side for over a thousand years before he fought under him. For the longest time after the first Lord, the Overlord and his creator took him under his wing, he had been suspicious and annoyed by the creature his father spent so much time on. Training him personally, helping him master his true potential. He was a great asset to the war as much as Kozu had hated to admit it. The First Spinjitzu Master, his father, had not once stepped foot on the battle ground but had attacked once, to poison their land and sky. Instead of facing the Overlord, he let his son and the elemental masters he created fight for him. A true coward. In that time, they were on the losing end of the battle, Serpentine and what few Umbrians they had at the time falling like the ashes of the land they called home the First Spinjitzu Master scorched at the start of the battle then poisoned their skies to get them to desist. But that only made them angrier, more determined. It was what made the Serpentine join their cause.

Garmadon was a breath of fresh air for the Serpentine and Umbrians alike, his powers stronger than those of the elemental masters and growing stronger still with the Overlord’s guidance. The longer he fought with Garmadon, the more he saw he had the makings of greatness. He saw why his father kept fanning the flame that was he. But the Overlord had no good intentions by growing Garmadon’s strength, by becoming his master. Not in the slightest. He planned to steal Garmadon’s powers once he broke through his nemesis, the First Spinjitzu Master’s defenses, and defeat him once and for all. But that never happened. The Overlord’s plans were completely derailed once the First Spinjitzu Master left for the Departed Realm, leaving his son and army to fight this war for him. The only thing that prevented the Overlord from finding him himself immediately at the news, was the prophecy of the Green Knight. He suspected that the First Spinjitzu Master had passed on his powers to another to fight him or simply reincarnated himself into a younger body able to keep up with battle for longer.

But he waited for years, the war still underway, with no news. Then, that woman came, serving the castle and Garmadon had foolishly opened his heart to her. She made herself appear to be an Umbrian when she was truly Fulgoric, had craftily and patiently worked her way to be trusted by all, listened in on plans to fight the Kingdom of Fulgor and fed it back to their enemies. It gave the Fulgaric army a great advantage over them. So great, the Overlord had to rise forward another army, the Nindroids, created from the modified blueprints of the Fulgoric’s grand inventor living in the Palace there. The Overlord was not happy to expend that energy to create the Nindroids and demanded to find the source of the information of their attacks. The woman must have realised that they would discover her soon and had used the softness in Garmadon’s heart he had grown for her to her advantage. They knew Garmadon would never utter a word of their operations to anyone, especially when he more than all of them longed for Fulgor’s demise. She was always by his side, almost always so she wasn’t looked at as closely as they should have. They never made that mistake again. Garmadon never made that mistake again.

Kozu looked away from the Emperor to where Cryptor was demonstrating to Prince Lloyd an easier means to swing his sword that would cause less distress in his wrists and arms.

Lloyd.

He was the result of their arrangement. An unexpected one in her case. Her horror, her disgust even was what caught his attention. While he hadn’t cared much for something as unnecessary and troublesome as mortal affairs, her reaction made him watch her closely. The longer he watched her, the more the illusion she casted began to wane. Of course he brought this to the Overlord’s attention but his father had only urged him to keep watching, to let her keep thinking her cover was safe and to report to him. He hadn’t understood why he hadn’t just slain the mortal, regardless of Garmadon’s feelings on the matter but he did as he was told. He discovered that she was not even an Umbrian, and that she seemed to have strong relations with the Emperor of Fulgor. A spy. Then, at last, she brought forth into this war wreaked world, a large, emerald green egg that faded into gold at the very top. She was horrified. Garmadon had been brought to tears holding the egg that held his child inside. That odd birth was her breaking point it seemed. Just before dawn, when the night was at its darkest, when activity in the castle was at its absolute minimum, she took the egg and attempted to flee. He had told the Overlord of this, who had in turn woke and told Garmadon.

He was there, watching from the higher tower as the woman, her name Misako, ripped Garmadon’s heart to careless shreds with the truth of her purpose here. He who had loved her with all his heart. She had even gone as far as to drop their unhatched child over the edge of the cliff, wanting to ensure his bloodline never carries further. She hadn’t expected Garmadon to jump after the egg, hadn’t expected him to catch it and survive the fall. She certainly hadn’t expected to be faced with the Overlord in all his draconic glory once she turned to run. More than anything, she had not expected her former lover to climb his way to the top, brimming with rage, his powers lashing around him like whips as he cradled his unhatched child as the treasure it was. That day found her lifeless body laying in a pool of her own blood with her own heart in her grasp for the few seconds of life she had. She had been trying to put it back to the hole in her chest where Garmadon had ripped it out from.

He was also there, watching as his father, at Garmadon’s pleading, had checked to see if the child was uninjured inside its egg. The child, Lloyd, was fine. Uninjured and very much alive still inside his egg. It was in that moment however, checking the child’s vital signs, that his father saw that this child was the Knight of prophecy. The Green Knight. The moment his father let Garmadon know that, did Kozu know what would come next. His father was a creature of pure darkness, not evil. He had his own standards, his own views on the world. The realm of Ninjago could burn and he wouldn’t have cared. He had one goal he was determined to fulfill, and that was to defeat the only one equal to him in power. As he reverted to a more humane form, he held a scowl of disgust on his face as Garmadon feared yet again for his son’s life, more than willing to fight to the death to keep him well. His father would do no such thing. He would not fight a child, especially realising all the utter coward that was the First Spinjitzu Master, the so called glorified creator of this realm did, was to push this fight on his kin, his grandson whom had nothing to do with the grudge, the natural need to defeat the Overlord felt towards the First Spinjitzu Master. The Overlord heard the tales from Garmadon and his spies in the Kingdom of Fulgor, of the First Spinjitzu Master’s time in a realm before this, how he left due to a war he could not end. He had expected the coward to flee but to pin his fight on another, a child of all persons. Kozu had never seen his father more enraged. So when the moon was at its highest that night, his father relinquished his armies, his people, his land… And most importantly, his powers to Garmadon.

He would leave this world to the Departed Realm to face the First Spinjitzu Master directly, once and for all to settle his score. Kozu, Cryptor, Pythor and Ultra Violet, all four generals of the Overlord’s grand army, representing the major 4 species that lived on his land swore their loyalty to their new Lord- no. He rathered to be called Emperor. They witnessed as the Overlord left this world, fading as black mist in the wind. That was a little over two decades ago. For half of which, Garmadon hadn’t left the castle. Not when he had an egg to keep incubated in his warmth, to urge the child to be hatched with his presence. It took 5 years but the egg finally hatched in Garmadon’s arms in the throne room. The green hatchling dragon had recognised its father, had understood that there was no mother for it to rely on, nor did it ask for or need one. For 4 years, the child grew and learned as a dragon before finally taking his human shape on his fifth. Then, the war had slowly began taking more and more of Garmadon’s time.

He had assigned them as his caretakers during his absence. While he and Cryptor were clueless what to do with a dragonling child, they discovered that he was an intelligent child and hardly needed their care. But they were directly assigned this task by their Emperor and they would not take it lightly as Pythor, the current Serpentine General had until he was unassigned- and punished. Kozu and Cryptor both had some… Choice words for the slimy snake for being as careless as he had been. Had he not been so full of himself-

“Kozu.” The Stone General shifted his glowing, slitted green eyes to Lloyd who was watching him curiously, sword seeming to be in its hilt for some time now.

“... Let us go.” He says as he turns away, red cape fluttering behind him. “Our journey begins before dawn. You must have an early supper and an early rest.” Kozu told Lloyd as he followed with Cryptor behind him.

“Understood.” Lloyd nods, expecting as much.

It won’t do him any good to be fatigued for tomorrow.

“The Knights are aware of your existence but you are the last person they would expect. We intend on keeping your identity unknown for as long as possible. I don’t need to tell you what would happen if they discover you, the Emperor’s son out in the open.” Cryptor says as they entered the castle.

“Of course not.” Lloyd says seriously, their heels clicking against the polished ground as they made their way through the castle. “I’m not foolish enough to think that despite my training, despite your presence with me, that the Knights won’t think of something clever to try should they know my identity.” He spoke, a small sneer tugging at his lips at the mention of their names.

“I’ll be careful.” He promised them.

“Good. Because once we’re out there, we won’t always have the time to look after you.” Cryptor warned as they stopped by the dining hall, Lloyd turning around to face them.

“That’s alright. You won’t need to.”

______________________ (Woo chapter 2!  I'm sorry. I don't vibe well with Misako and I know that which is why I don't write her at all because if I do, she turns out like this. Love me some Movie Misako though. She's only mentioned a hand full of times through the fic at least. (twice or three times).

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