#What to do if Nightmare Horses are Pulling Your Covered Wagon

[thatsbelievable]

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Summary: The battle begins, and the past is revealed.

Ao3 Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10

Warning: Graphic depictions of violence, blood and gore. Tags: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character, Widowed, Original Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby Arthur Morgan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Ch 6 - As When The Summer Days Were Nigh

“I’d known death since I was a child. It’s everywhere. In every form you can imagine. And a few your worst nightmare couldn’t muster. As if death was not the result of accidents and disease, death was its own disease. But it had never touched me. It had never placed its rotten finger on my heart. Yes, freedom has fangs. And it sunk them in me. ” ~ Elsa Dutton 1883 

Lorena's hooves pounded against the slope, carrying Kate down into the valley where a few wagons had come to a halt, isolated from the main caravan. Raiders swarmed around them, gunfire echoing in the night as chaos unfolded. With the sun sinking below the horizon, Kate strained to discern the attackers' numbers in the darkness. 

Six horsemen emerged from the west, joined by several more riding over the slope from the north. Kate's mind raced as she tried to make sense of the situation. What are raiders doing this far south in the plains? She asked herself, trying to plan a course of action.

They used the cover of night to their advantage, weaving between trees and shrubs, it was difficult to get a clear shot of them. But she witnessed Charles and Arthur spring into action. Their guns blazed as they lit up the night with each round sending orange sparks into the darkness. As Lorena closed the distance, Kate spotted two wagons left behind: one belonging to John and Abigail, and the other a supply wagon driven by Lenny and Sean. She knew the raiders would target the supplies and likely attempt to steal their horses too.

This left the fighting to Arthur, Charles, and Javier. Who turned back at the sound of the commotion. Lenny and Sean leapt into the wagon for cover as they began shooting blind into the night, the horses crying out in fear. Kate couldn't see Abigail, and she prayed she was well hidden in the wagon with Jack. She made headway to his wagon first. 

She pulled her rifle from her saddle and called out to John, who was firing round after round from his revolver, doing no good against the fast riding raiders. 

“John!” she shouted, catching his attention, he looked down from his seat in the wagon. 

“Kate?” He said, taken back by the sight of her, “you need to find cover!” Concern laced his voice. 

She ignored his statement, holding the rifle up for him, “take this, it's a better shot. Aim for the shrubs, they're using them as cover.” She urged. 

John nodded and took the weapon without hesitation, quickly counting the rounds in the ammunition, “thanks, what will you use?” He asked, already getting in position to take aim. 

“Don’t worry about me,” she answered, determination in her voice, “protect your family.” 

Lorena brought her around to the back of the wagon and she peered inside, sure enough Abigail was clutching Jack to her breast, white knuckled and face scrunched in silent fear. As if she was hoping this was just a bad dream they would wake from. Jack, trying to be brave, trembled in his mother's arms. Without hesitation, Kate leaped into the wagon, placing a comforting hand on Abigail's shoulder. She startled at her touch, “easy Abigail, it's just me, you need to take this.” She held out her own revolver. Abigail opened her eyes and shook her head with a sob. Kate's heart throbbed at the sight of her. 

"I’m not letting go of him!" she cried, her voice quivering with emotion. "When is this going to end?" Her plea carried the weight of past traumas, threatening to overwhelm her.

Knowing they had no time to waste, Kate pressed the revolver into Abigail's trembling hand. She needed a means to defend herself if the worst was going to happen. Jack whimpered at the sounds of gunfire coming from John at the seat of the wagon. She gave him a reassuring look, “be brave for your momma okay? If anybody comes, you shout for me and I’ll come runnin’,” she added with a smile, placing a hand on his little head. He nodded in understanding. 

Lorena waited at the back of the wagon as Kate mounted her and took off towards the fray. She needed to come up with a plan, and fast. She gave her firearms to the Marston family. Which left her with only close range weapons. She reached into her saddle bag and pulled out a tomahawk. It had been a long time since she’s used an old weapon of war. 

With determination she nudged her mare in the belly and took off. The familiar leather grip of her tomahawk left her with a sense of bitter nostalgia. Memories of an old friend came flooding back, and old instincts she had long buried bubbled to the surface. 

In the distance, she spotted Arthur, locked in combat with a raider. His skill and ferocity were undeniable as he dispatched two foes with swift precision. Kate watched, her heart heavy with unspoken truths.

Arthur is wrestling with a giant, Charles' words sounded in her mind. She had faced her own giants, and kept them at bay like a hunter taming a wild beast. She never got the chance to tell him. She would release her giant tonight, and if they survived, she vowed to share her secrets with Arthur, laying bare the depths of her soul.

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Under the cloak of night, time seemed to stretch endlessly, though mere minutes had passed. The raiders fell one by one, a testament to their careful strategy. It dawned on the others that shooting wildly was futile; they needed to close the gap.

For Kate, the chaos played to her strengths. While she lacked skill with a gun, in close combat, she was unparalleled. The sickening crunch of bone echoed as her tomahawk met the skull of a raider, sending him crashing to the ground. The scene before her, once familiar yet now unsettling, reminded her of the darkness she had left behind. Yet, there was no joy in the violence; only relief that she no longer found pleasure in such brutality.

With only a few foes left standing, Arthur's gaze found hers, his worry palpable. She reassured him with a nod, urging him to focus on the task at hand.

Scanning the chaotic scene, Kate spotted a lone raider sneaking up on John's wagon, his focus fixed on protecting his brother. With a swift movement, she sprang into action.

She hollered to get the man's attention, as well as Johns. It didn't matter who took him down, as long as he was stopped. Closing the distance, she gripped her weapon high, readying for the strike. The raider turned just as Kate swung, narrowly missing his head as a shot rang out. She was unsure if it was John’s or the bandits until pain shot through her side. The man barely squeezed by her horse and the wagon, and took off in the opposite direction. Ignoring the pain, Kate followed. 

Arthur joined the chase, and together they pursued the raider. Lorena surged forward, fueled by the thrill of the chase. Leaning down to her horse's ear, Kate whispered, "Feels like old times, huh, girl?" Lorena snorted in agreement. Despite her clingy and skittish nature. She was bred to be a war horse, and in her blood she fought just as savagely as her rider. 

She closed in and brought her mare tauntingly close to the last man. With a swift motion she collided the blade with the man's ankle, nearly cutting his own foot off, causing him to fall out of the saddle. He did not reach for his weapon, as he used his last round in an attempt to kill her, instead he lay on his back and put his hands out in mercy. 

Kate dismounted and trudged over to him. 

“I-I’m unarmed!” He pleaded, “please miss you wouldn’t kill an unarmed man!” 

She tossed the tomahawk to the ground and the man eased for a moment, until she pulled her hunting knife out of her belt. His eyes widened and he tried to stand, but his ankle was only holding on by a bit of flesh. 

Arthur finally caught up to them and dismounted, “don’t kill him yet Kate, we need to find out who they are. They could be O’Driscolls.” Kate ignored him, the pain in her side igniting into a blazing fire. The metallic tang of her own blood filled her senses, but she pushed past it with a fierce glare.

“Don’t look like an O'Driscoll to me,” she rasped. Fighting the urge to drive her knife into his belly. Echoes of an old mantra rang in her ears, “our job is to ensure our enemies fear is greater than their greed.”  

“I-I aint an O’Driscoll, we’re just a couple of horse thieves. That’s all,” the man pleaded, using his forearms to distance himself from her. 

The world felt dizzy, her memories of her past began mixing with the present. “That’s all?” She mocked, “you would take these people’s lives,” her voice hoarse, “just for a few horses?” Before he could answer she forcefully kicked him in the belly, hard enough to break a few ribs. The man rolled onto his stomach and spit up blood. 

In a flash, Kate mounted the man from behind, gripping a fistfull of his hair and forcefully pulling back towards her chest. She placed the knife at the edge of his throat, Arthur saw the fire in her eyes as she ended the man's life, sickeningly slow. 

As she drew the blade over his neck she muttered the words low in his ear, “what you take from the land will be taken from you. Know that I am the land, and the land is killing you.” 

As the raider choked on his own blood, Kate dropped his head in the dirt. The wound was not deep enough to kill him quickly. He would asphyxiate for the next several hours, a combination of bleeding out and choking to death. He would teeter on the brink of consciousness, not knowing if he is alive or dead. It was a slow sentence, a merciless one. It was pure torture.  

Arthur stood in stunned silence, his gaze fixed on Kate. He had witnessed his fair share of violence, and dealt with his own. But the intensity in her eyes was unfamiliar, unsettling. She seemed transformed, a wildness emanating from her like a primal force. 

“I didn’t know you could fight like that,” he said awkwardly, unsure if it was the right thing to say at the moment. He had seen a different side of her. And he had a feeling it was one that she was clearly trying to keep buried. He couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them, and he was left grappling with the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

Kate retrieved her tomahawk and mounted her horse, her movements strained with pain. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Morgan," she replied tersely, her usual sharpness replaced by a somber tone. "We need to keep moving," she added, urging her horse forward. She felt sick to her stomach, the pain mixed with rage and shame and fear. A whirlwind of emotions, it had been years since she killed somebody. She vowed to give that life up. And now, she was riding off with a bunch of outlaws. Leaving behind a bloody battlefield. Arthur watched her ride off, a knot of worry forming in his stomach.

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They rode past Dewberry Creek and down to Clemens Point. A hidden spot on the peninsula of the lake, only a few miles from Rhodes. It was a decent hiding spot. As the last of the caravan pulled in, the members who made it ahead of the chaos came rushing out to greet them. 

As Kate was the last to reach Clemens Point, the weight of the recent events hung heavy on her shoulders. She gazed out at the lake, its surface reflecting the dim light of the moonlit sky. A secluded spot on the beach offered a brief respite from the chaos that had engulfed them, and Kate welcomed the solitude.

Dismounting her horse, she felt the exhaustion settle into her bones like a heavy blanket. Her hands, streaked with dirt and blood, trembled slightly as she reached for the saddle buckles. With a heavy sigh, she removed the burden from Lorena's back, the weight of it suddenly feeling unbearable. As Lorena trotted off to the water's edge, letting out a contented sigh as the coolness soothed her weary joints, Kate couldn’t help but chuckle. Perhaps she had pushed her loyal mare a bit too hard today.

Grabbing a brush from her saddlebag, Kate set to work cleaning Lorena's coat, the rhythmic motion a comforting distraction from the chaos that had unfolded. In the distance, she could hear the other members of the gang recounting the night's events, their voices a mix of concern, exhaustion, and celebration.

As a pair of hooves approached, Kate knew without looking that it was Arthur. Dismounting, he joined her by the water's edge, letting Belle cool herself alongside Lorena. "Mind if I join ya?" he asked quietly, uncertainty lacing his voice. Kate nodded in response, and Arthur settled onto the sand beside her, kicking off his boots to let the water lap at his feet.

The air was thick with humidity, and the sounds of frogs and cicadas filling the night. It felt strange to be going back east, but somehow it didn’t bother her that her journey had been interrupted.

After a moment of silence, Kate broached the subject that had been weighing on her mind. "You wanna tell me what happened in Valentine?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and concern.

Arthur sighed heavily, his gaze distant as he recounted the events of the day. "It started with the train job. The law showed up fast, too fast, and we barely made it out of there," he explained. "Cornwall's men nearly killed John the next morning. We made it out, but not without killing half the town.”

Kate shook her head in disbelief, her heart heavy with the weight of Arthur's words. Before she could respond, Arthur spoke again, his voice filled with remorse. "I'm so sorry, Kate. I never wanted to drag you into all this mess. Especially after what Micah did," he added with a bitter scoff. "I don’t know why you turned back." 

"I didn't do it just for you," Kate replied after a moment, her gaze meeting Arthur's with unwavering determination. "I did it for Abigail and her boy. From one mother to another." Arthur looked at her, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He caught the new information, but his heart fluttered at the idea that she turned back for him as well. 

“I’ve never seen a woman fight like that, it was,” he trailed and Kate was the one to interrupt this time. 

“I know, you don't have to say it. I’m not exactly proud of it,” she looked down in shame. 

Arthur offered a warm smile, “I was gonna say it was real brave.” 

She smiled sadly and shook her head, “still don’t make it right.”

“It was either us or them Kate, don’t beat yourself up about it,” Arthur reassured her. “You know, I’d understand if you still want to leave. But we could surely use some of that bravery around here.” 

Kate nodded and took a deep breath, steeling herself to share something important. “I’ll stay Arthur,” she began, “but, there’s some things I think you should know about me.” 

“We all come from different places, your past is your past,” he said sincerely, “If you don’t wanna share that I don’t want you to think ya have to.” Her heart warmed at the gesture, he was being considerate. After everything he saw he would still grant her the privacy of her past, but that wasn't her plan. 

“No, I want to tell you,” Kate paused, collecting her thoughts, “I think you’ll understand me better. And after what happened at the Downes ranch, I owe it to you.”

Arthur’s curiosity peaked, the conversation from a fortnight weighed heavy on his mind. And he wanted to know how her story tied into that. His mind already raced with assumptions, after seeing the way she fought he couldn't help but wonder if she was on the run from the law too. Or something worse. 

“Alright,” he settled back against the sand, giving her his full attention.  “I’m here to listen, Kate.” 

With a heavy sigh, she decided to start from the beginning. “I’ve known death since I was a child. It began with a railway accident in Boston that took my mother and little sister from me, leaving behind my father and older brother. At the time, my father owned a ranch where we raised dairy cattle. He didn’t take their deaths well, and fell into a depression. My brother and I couldn't keep up with the work alone, so we were forced to sell and move. Thankfully, a family friend took us in on their farm. It was there I met my husband, and for a while, we were sweet on one another.”

Kate recalled the memories, her heart flooding with grief, “we lived there a few years. And when my brother was old enough he joined a mining company, and it was another accident that took his life too. It sent my father over the deep end, and so he hung himself in the barn. Like he suddenly forgot he still had a living child.”

Arthur's face softened, understanding the weight of her losses. To him, it sounded like Kate had a proper family—one that truly loved and cared for each other. 

“I got married the next year, and finally things felt like they were turning for the better. My husband and I built a little ranch together. In a few years, we welcomed a baby girl into our home.” Her voice choked with emotion. “My life felt as perfect as it could get. I miss my family dearly, but I felt like I was carrying on their memory by starting my own.”

Arthur didn't want to think about where her story was going; it was painfully familiar to him. Kate shifted in the sand, wincing as a sharp pain shot up her side. She had forgotten about the bullet in her flesh. The area had gone numb, and the mixed feelings of grief and searing pain caused tears to stream down her cheeks.

“Lorena didn’t even make it through her first summer before disease took her from me, and as if death couldn't have enough, it took my husband from me too.” Her voice shook with pain. 

Arthur sighed, his heart full of sympathy as he observed Kate's emotional turmoil. "Oh, Kate," he said softly, reaching out to comfort her. However, his concern heightened as he noticed the sand around her stained red. "Kate, you're bleeding!" His voice rose with worry.

She nodded, wincing as she reached around her side. "I got shot," she answered, her voice trembling.

"Why didn’t you say anything?" Arthur was already getting up to inspect the wound. "Let me see."

Kate untucked her shirt and lifted it up for Arthur to examine. The bullet had entered just above her hip bone, lodged in the fatty area of her waist. "How bad is it?" she asked, her voice still shaky.

With gentle fingers, Arthur prodded at the wound. It was angry and swollen, and she winced at his touch. He concluded that the bullet was still inside, "the bullet’s still in there, but I think I can get it out. I don't think it hit anything important," he noted, assessing the severity of her injury.

Kate nodded and lifted her shirt further, revealing deep faded scars scattered across her back in the moonlight. “Jesus, Kate,” Arthur muttered softly in surprise. He paused before touching her again, afraid that she might break beneath him like an old clay pot. "What happened?" His voice was as soft as a whisper, fearful of what her answer might reveal.

Closing her eyes, Kate winced once again as Arthur’s hands returned to her wound. “I’ll tell ya once you get this thing out of me,” she replied.

Arthur nodded and, with a gentle hand, held the front of her waist while using his other hand to extract the bullet like it was a cyst, squeezing it out agonizingly slow. Instinctively, she grabbed onto his hand around her waist for support, finding solace in his warmth.

“There, got it,” Arthur said, a hint of pride in his voice as he handed Kate the small pebble that had caused her so much discomfort. “Think of it like a souvenir,” he joked.

“I’ve got plenty of souvenirs,” she mused, tossing the bullet into the lake. Arthur understood she was referring to the scars.

“Come back to my tent,” Arthur suggested, “I’ll stitch you up while you continue to catch me up on the last 10 years of your life.” His tone was playful, an attempt to lighten her mood. Arthur could already tell that her life had been incredibly hard, and seeing the marks on her back only confirmed his fears. Kate nodded, and Arthur helped her walk back to his tent.

To her surprise, the camp was put together rather quickly. Most of the members had settled down around the fire or had gone to bed. Arthur’s things were off to the side of the small clearing, offering him some privacy. His wagon had not been completely unloaded, but there was a cot, as well as a milk crate and an oil lamp. It was no hospital but it would have to do. He gently helped her sit down on his cot while he rummaged through his belongings for the right supplies to stitch her wound. Kate took the opportunity to continue her story. 

“Funny thing about this land,” she started, “our constitution says all men are created equal. But I’m a woman, a widow. They tell us our land is free, but what freedom do I have? I cannot own land, can’t take out a loan, can’t purchase anything in my own name. Choices come with freedom, but I had no choices at all.”

Arthur gave her a sympathetic look, he wasn't always proud of his sex. Most of the men in his life were not good role models, and he himself couldn't understand why some men treated women the way that they did. 

“I had an aunt in Southern California, I never met her but my father had talked about her growing up. So I wrote to her, in a handful of pages I explained everything. And begged her to let me live with her,” she inhaled sharply as Arthur cleaned her wound with alcohol. 

“I was a sorry sight,” she remarked, “I was so terrified to be on my own, and travel across the entire country just to avoid being sent to a nunnery or sold to another man as his bride. I had enough money to get me to Virginia, and after that I had to find my own way.”

In the dim light Arthur sat crouched on the ground beneath her while Kate sat in his cot. She looked down at him, working diligently and so tenderly to clean her wound as painless as possible. His gaze was fixed and intent while he worked, but Kate knew he was taking in every word she said. 

“So I joined a caravan that was heading west to Arizona. I figured they could at least get me close enough. Only problem was they were all German, and had very little knowledge of how to travel across the American west," Kate said with a bitter chuckle, “there were a few ranchers that came with us, and we tried to teach them what we could. Most of them couldn't even ride a horse!” She exclaimed. 

Arthur blew out a breath, “oh they were doomed from the start.” 

“It started with 72 of us, and we began to lose people as soon as we hit the Appalachian trail. Their carelessness became contagious; sickness and snakes, bad horses and poison berries. But of all the perils awaiting us, there was one word so feared it was barely spoken and barely whispered… the river.” 

Arthurs blood went cold. He couldn’t imagine the fear and terror as innocent families were ripped apart by dark waters. Punished simply for seeking a better life. The land was more merciless than any outlaw he knew. He noticed Kate relax under his touch, he worked gently as he ran the pad of his thumb over the flesh of her scars. Small bumps and lines, like tiny mountains in a cartography map. Like these scars mapped her history. Where she stood tall and brave in the face of danger. He admired her, being young and alone in this world was terrifying. He knew that feeling well. 

“The Kanawha river nearly took all of us that day. We came out the other side with barely 15 people,” Kate shook her head at the memory, “I thought we had seen the worst. But it was only the beginning, Arthur.” 

He looked up at the sound of his name, her voice trembling with fear. Their eyes locked and he saw a broken girl looking back at him. They shared a silent moment of understanding. He had heard stories from Appalachia, it was something a child could not muster even in their worst nightmares. Reaching for her arm, he squeezed her gently, “Kate,” he said softly, like he was crooning a baby, “you don’t have to tell me if the memories hurt.” 

Warmth spread over her cheeks as silent tears fell, her heart was in her throat. It had been so long since she talked to someone about it. For the first time in years she felt like Arthur was the only person truly seeing her. 

“We had crossed into Lakota hunting territory,” she continued, “there was a feud over the land between the tribe and the Virginia government. But it didn’t matter for us, the Indians came anyway. They killed all the men, leaving only myself and two other girls. I couldn’t do anything but watch it happen. I was no use with a gun and I had no idea where to go. So they took me.” 

“And I knew I was going to die.” 

[bigfrozenfan-fanfics]

Chapter 14 - Changes

Links: Chapter overview, Character list, Map, Glossar Rating: M over all Publishing cycle: each Friday at 6:00 pm CEST dst/UTC +2:00 on (link) Remarks: all my chapters contain carefully selected music tracks. It’s your own decision if you want to use them or not while reading. The purpose is to musically support the respective mood of the plot. If you can please use a browser for reading (not the Tumblr app) due to the text formatting and music.

Yelana caught the two boys from behind as they were telling jokes and laughing out loud instead of watching the herd. She cleared her throat audibly and the heads of both of them drove around scared. They both looked at her serious face and went white as a sheet.

Yelana's gaze wandered back and forth between them, then shrugged and said in a friendly voice, “You've got nothing to worry about, boys.” Their posture then relaxed a little. Then she pondered for a moment, swayed her head in her typical manner and finally looked at them a little arrogantly. “I need a reindeer, preferably saddled and harnessed, if possible please. I'm not that young anymore.”

The surprise reaction of the two of them was priceless for Yelana's taste, but didn't let on and grinned inside herself instead. The boys stood there frozen as if rooted to the ground and could not believe their ears.

“Come on, you two, I haven't got all day!” She made a wagging gesture and frowned apparently in annoyance.

The boys started moving and less than five minutes later a saddled reindeer was standing in front of her.

She took a closer look at the animal and the saddle and nodded contentedly at the end. Then she pushed her rod under the straps of the saddle and mounted. “Take good care of all of you,” she said to the boys standing there waiting and gave them a motherly look. Then she sighed and rode off without looking back another second.

“What did she mean by that? And why is she riding away anyway?” one of them asked.

“I haven't the faintest idea. I didn't even know she could ride,” replied the other.

Both gazed after her completely perplexed.

~~~

The wagon rumbled along and nobody spoke a word. Even Olaf remained silent and looked at the passing landscape with a transfigured look. Everyone was lost deep in their thoughts except Elsa, who had fallen asleep next to her.

How could she sleep so calmly; Anna thought, and pondered the upsetting events as she absent-mindedly watched the sunset. On any other day she would enjoy it, but today it seemed to her as if it announced a night of mischief.

What would this Kolgrimr do with the Northuldra once he realized that they were already long gone and he could no longer carry out whatever plans he had in mind. She feared for the people there and if Honeymaren was right in her suspicion, they could not defend themselves against his magical powers. They would all be helplessly at his mercy.

Slowly but constantly anger rose in her. Couldn't anything go right for once in her life? Did something terrible always have to happen to them and ended up being involved? She looked over to her sister and envied her. Elsa's face seemed completely relaxed, she even smiled slightly. Was she dreaming of Honeymaren? What was between them? Of course she would not mind if a romantic relationship developed between the two of them. She knew that Arendelle was quite open-minded about relationships of this kind, there was even a married female couple, Ada and Tuva Diaz with two adopted children. What was most important to her was Elsa's well-being and she wanted nothing more than the happiness for her sister.

And now someone thought he had the right to get revenge for something they were both not to blame for. Anna cursed and at the same moment, frightened by her behaviour, held her hand over her mouth. The next moment, she looked into Kristoff's eyes, who had turned around to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

“You curse? About what?” he asked curiously.

“Oh nothing, it's not that important,” she replied quickly, waving off and feeling the situation as embarrassing. Kristoff now raised his other eyebrow, too. Apparently he didn't quite believe her assertion.

“You know you can tell me anything, honey. Just say it out loud. If I don't know what it's about, I can't help you.”

Anna sat down and nodded her head a little bashfully at last. “Yes, dear, I know, and cursing isn't usually my style either. I was just thinking about this Kolgrimr and why it is always us who are in the middle of the action and risking our lives. What do you think about this whole thing? You have been quiet all the way back and don't seem particularly frightened to me.”

Kristoff shrugged his shoulders. “We made it out of the woods in time, if all this is true, and we'll be home soon.” Then he remembered the conversation with Ryder when he warned him and he said, “I'm not worried about myself, Anna, but if there's anyone I really care about, it's you, honey. If anything happens to you, that would be the end for me, I  love you.”

Anna smiled, stood up briefly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Kristoff, my love. I love you too.”

They looked at each other in love for a while, and Anna actually forgot her worries about it. Eventually, he nodded with a smile and turned around again. She herself leaned back and closed her eyes. Maybe she could get some sleep after all; she thought.

~~~

They had not yet completed a third of the way home when Kristoff saw a covered wagon approaching in front of him at some distance. He turned around and pointed it out to the others.

“Wake up, folks! Look who's coming.”

Anna and Elsa startled up, then stretched their heads and looked ahead while Olaf climbed forward beside Kristoff. “Mattias is here!” he exclaimed excitedly and pointed forward.

“They were pretty fast, though,” Anna murmured and rubbed her stiff neck because she had dozed off in an uncomfortable position.

“You haven't told me much about him,” Elsa replied without looking at her. “Except that he rode back specially to get help for me.”

Anna looked at her smiling. “The General is one of the most loyal people I know, and a fine fellow too. You'll like him.”

Elsa nodded, “I'm already very curious about him.”

A few minutes later the two vehicles, standing now directly opposite each other, stopped. The two drivers sitting on the coach box looked quite surprised. Mattias rode past them and jumped briskly out of the saddle when he was next to Anna.

“Your Majesty!” he shouted joyfully and bowed to Anna, who was now standing up at the back of the wagon. “You guys are already on your way back so soon, then I presume your sister's doing well again?” He peered past Anna to have a look at Elsa. Elsa bent over, looked past Anna and waved at the General with her arm half raised. “Hello, General Mattias.” She smiled at him and mustered his appearance with quick glances without seeming immediately curious.

Trygve and Kristina rose as soon as they saw their queen, smiled and bowed to her while reciting the usual greeting. Anna nodded to them in a friendly manner, but suddenly her worries came back to her mind and her face darkened.

“I am very happy that you are feeling better, Elsa,” said Mattias and returned her smile. Then he looked up at Anna again and his smile faded when he noticed her concern in her face. “Queen Anna, are you alright? Has something happened?”

She nodded, sat down again to be largely at his eye level and said, “Unfortunately, yes, General. We were informed by Honeymaren of a serious threat and had to flee in haste. Someone is trying to kill us.”

Mattias tore open his eyes and gasped, “What? Who? Please tell me everything!” Anna explained in short words what she knew, and his face successively expressed his moods, from amazement to serious concern to clear anger.

“The Council must be informed immediately, and the garrison put on high alert. This can't be true!” He clenched his fists and turned to the covered wagon. “Turn the cart around immediately. We must return as quickly as possible. We are in imminent danger.”

Trygve's and Kristina's jaws dropped and they stared first at him and then at each other in disbelief. Kristina finally nodded and jumped off the trestle. The trail wasn't too wide here so she took the horse by the harness and pulled it slowly around to realign the cart. Then she got back on and waited for Mattias to would ride ahead of them to set the pace. She looked at Trygve with concern and he put a hand on her arm reassuring her.

“Your Majesty, if you agree, we will refrain from equipping Elsa with the camouflage clothes we brought with us, because of the hurry. We yet could also do that shortly before Arendelle.”

Anna nodded and looked briefly behind her. “I think you are right about this, Mattias. We are still near the Northuldra area, so we should hurry.” She gave her sister a quick sideways glance and squeezed her hand before looking at Mattias again. “But we are not yet returning to Arendelle. We have to make a little detour first.”

Mattias raised his eyebrows questioningly. “A detour? Where to?”

Anna bent over to him, looked at him with big eyes and replied quietly, “To the trolls, Mattias, to the trolls.”

The general's jaw dropped and he couldn't say anything more. The day had started so beautifully, and from one moment to the next, everything turned into a nightmare. Trolls ... this can't be true; he thought, and shook his head in disbelief.

~~~

He could have taken her to Gyda. Instead, he chose his hiding place by the river. He preferred not to take any risks and Honeymaren as a hostage was very valuable, even in two ways; he thought, when he recalled the scene on the beach with her and that Arendelle bitch. He grinned as he nudged the young woman in front of him to make her hurry up.

“Faster! Don't dally like that.”

She took a quick look over her shoulder, both angry and anxious. Her hands were tied behind her back and she almost tripped forward when her attention was briefly diverted. But she caught herself in time.

“Don't try any tricks,” he said in a low but threatening voice. She nodded, but didn't say a word. That's good; Kolgrimr thought, as long as she was afraid it was easier to keep her at bay. Less work and more time to make new plans.

He couldn't get that boy out of his head, that brave little guy and brother of his captive. How could it be that he had not sensed the slightest thing, not even when he had actively and intensely tried; he thought. It was almost as if a ghost apparition had stood before him. He gritted his teeth and clenched a fist. That was not good by any means. Not at all. Even with this strong-willed half breed from Arendelle, he was able to get to her spirit with a bit effort. But with him? There was absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. And that worried him immensely.

~~~

At nightfall they reached a small, well hidden kota. Light fog was in the air and a soft splash told Honeymaren that they had to be near a river. She also knew roughly in which direction they had gone, although she herself had never been in this part of the forest. Then she suddenly became aware of exactly where they were and she drew in the air sharply. The home of the earth giants!

She looked around briefly to Kolgrimr and he just nodded wordlessly in the direction of the kota. She walked to the entrance and stopped in front of it. He reached past her, pulled the flap open and pushed her in roughly, so that she fell to the bare ground inside. Then the flap closed again and she was sitting in the dark. She heard him tie the loop of the flap to the outside of the hut, then it was quiet.

She tried to spot something inside the kota, but all she saw was a pale shimmer in the opening above her. She tugged at her shackles but Kolgrimr had been very meticulous and she could not loosen them. If only she had her knife now, which she always carried hanging by her side; she thought. But he had taken it from her, of course.

She struggled herself up into a sitting position, crawled around and systematically searched the floor, hoping to find something useful. But there was nothing, not even a fur, that usually came with every good kota equipment. All right; she thought, let's try the walls. She stood up and moved along the wall with her shoulder as long until she felt like she had reached the starting point again. With her head she had also cautiously checked the wall in addition. But there was no hook and certainly not anything hanging to it to discover. She sighed unnerved and stayed stood leaning against the sloping wall for a while.

What was he up to? What would he do with her? Would he use brute force? Most likely, the way she judged him. She wasn't usually the frightened type, but she felt her eyes get wet and soon after that tears started to flow again. She sobbed softly and finally sank back to the floor. There was no escape for her, it seemed. She decided not to exchange a single word with him. She would remain mute. Even if he should slap her, he wouldn't get anything out of her.

The minutes passed in the silence of the darkness and the minutes became hours. It already had to be in the middle of the night when the rain started. At first she could only hear the soft sound the drops made as they dripped down onto the kota from the branches of the tree above. But it didn't take long and the sporadic dripping turned into a steady hissing as the sky finally opened its sluices completely.

The monotonous noise sounded very calming and soon it made her very tired. So she curled up on the uncomfortable, hard floor and fell gratefully asleep shortly afterwards.

~~~

---

I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment if you liked the story, I would be pleased to read your opinions, even criticisms. If you want to be tagged as soon I publish the next chapter please let me know, except you are already tagged :-)

Tagging: @karma26 @whether-near-to-me-or-far @annaofthenorthernlights @igotelsapregnanthelp @the-fifth-spirit-elsa​

[lokislittlecorner]

(AU) We were both young... Chapter 1

Pairing: Loki x Reader x Dark!Thor

Warnings for the chapter: 

Warnings for the series: (Not all of it is certain!!!) Angst, fluff, blood, violence, smut, hurt/comfort, Non- Con.

Notes from the author: It will probably be very dramatic and dark that much I can tell. I also never really sat down and took on such a big project but here we are I guess. There may be smut but I’m not sure yet since I normally don’t write it we’ll see how it goes once we reach that part. I tried to be as non-specific as possible - Skin tone, height, weight, etc. If you see something that isn’t inclusive please reach out to me so I can change it! Hope you enjoy my little project.

Summary: You were promised to Thor Odinson firstborn and the next king of Asgard, which made it impossible to not meet his brother Loki Odinson. He seemed to handle you differently from how he should've right from the beginning on. The Royal family had a lot of secrets and things hidden from everyone, including you, especially you.

Word count: 2400

A pleasant tune was playing and with your ear pressed tightly against his chest, you could hear a soft heartbeat. It calmed you down as you slowly danced away. The faint smell of cinnamon and rainy days was either on him or his elegant dark green jacket. You took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent. It felt like a dream. You felt how his chest vibrated as his voice reached through to you. "Are you enjoying yourself, dear?" You had always loved his voice, slivery and gentle yet demanding and sharp if he wanted it to be. "Very much so." You almost whispered back, fully absorbed in the moment, wishing it would never end but it did.

You sat at the window, an old book filled with honey dripping poetry in both your hands. A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you looked up, observing the raindrops and how they softly hit the window, making those beautiful sounds. It wouldn't be long until this wasn't your home anymore and you would move into the golden palace, surrounded by guards and other royalty. Every other young woman would be incredibly thankful and overjoyed just by the thought of marrying the firstborn Odinson but not you, never could you be part of the king's family. Intrigues and rumors, secrets and betrayal, everything you hated about the upper families and soon you would be part of it all. A knock on your door let you snap back to reality, you didn't even have the time to answer as your father was almost standing in front of you already. "My little (Y/N), I hope you are well today and ready to depart?" His deep voice made you shiver, of course, he wasn't here to check if you were alright but to see if the gown and the makeup on your face were fitting for tonight's occasion. "Yes, father. The maids already prettied me up." A bit of sass could be heard behind your words but not quite enough, so your father had nothing something to hold against you. 

He shook his head, grumbling something under his breath that you couldn't quite make out. "I wish you to behave tonight. We don't want to make a fool out of ourselves in front of the royal family... right?" He raised a brow, his arms crossed in front of him. A dark chuckle left you, if only you could embarrass the family enough so you wouldn't have to do all this crap but that was impossible. "Of course not father, I will be on my best behavior." and with that, you closed the book.

A carriage was already waiting for you and your father. It seemed like he would let your mother stay in the small castle to handle the little land which the family owned. The golden frame almost sparkled in the light of the undergoing sun, six strong white horses were pulling the heavy wagon. The Royal family wanted to impress their guests as it seemed. The heavy dress swayed around your ankles as you entered it, dark grey tulle, and only the best materials were used to make it. The ride was quiet, only the horses and the splashing of puddles were to be heard. A look out of the window and it seemed as if the storm only grew in power, lighting, and thunder raged over the sky as soon as the sun had vanished from the eyes of everyone, the cold night had finally arrived.

The palace was shining in all it's golden glory, seen hundreds of meters away from it already. A loud sigh left your trembling body. Was it fear? Anger? You couldn't tell anymore. The shouting of servants presenting the arriving guests could be heard and as soon as the carriage stopped, your family name was announced too. You could feel your heart pounding against your rips, legs weak, all seemed so overwhelming. The door opened and you could see other guests walking up the Palace stairs, servants everywhere, other carriages, and a hand ready to assist you. Now there was no running away anymore.

You took the gloved hand and set one foot after another, exiting the carriage and stepping onto the beautiful stone floor, inhaling the scent of the rain and the night. Your father followed after, his steps were heavy and you could hear him right behind you. "Lady (Y/L/N)! It seems as if you forgot your mask." The servant who just helped you out of the carriage informed you and looking around you realized that indeed everyone was wearing one, even your father put one on at the moment. "I am terribly sorry! I wasn't informed that this would be necessary" You tried to explain yourself and the man in front of you gave you a kind smile. "Do not worry" He turned and talked to a group of women dressed in the same attire, maids supposedly. They nodded and rushed away once the servant turned back to you. "A mask will be handed to you at the entrance, have a nice evening my Lady." He bowed down and you let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you very much" Who knows what father would have done to you if you were the only one without a mask, standing out like that. Your feet carried you in the direction of the tall doors which lead into the palace, royalty from far has also come to visit as it seemed and right next to the doors you saw one of the maidens with a smile on her lips. "We were informed that you might need this my Lady" She bowed down a little and handed you a black mask that would cover the upper half of your face, silver and many little gems decorated it, truly beautiful. You put it on immediately, it was finished with a soft fabric on the inside so it wouldn't disturb you. With a nod and a smile, you proceeded to enter your golden palace.

The tables were decked with the finest foods, guests already dancing to such lovely music, and young ladies in the corners of the ballroom were giggling about the handsome new gentlemen. 

Your father grabbed you firmly by the arm. "Now go and search for your prince. I want you to lure him in perfectly just how we taught you" Your stomach turned at those words, your family did indeed show you how to win the hearts of men and the attention of others, manners and manipulation were now your weapons. "I will do my best father." With that, you freed your arm out of his grip and made your way deeper into the halls, finally out of reach from him. Maybe you could sneak out later on? Get some fresh air and some freedom before every minute of your life becomes a nightmare, you shook your head, that thinking wouldn't get you anywhere not today or in the future.

A light tap on your shoulder brought you back to the ballroom and you turned around to find a tall dark-haired man in front of you. "You seem lost my little dove" His voice was like medicine to your soul but you couldn't make out who it was. His mask covered almost his complete face, nothing but his lips and the piercing green eyes were to be seen. "Oh I am certainly not but it is very kind of you to be so concerned about me, may I ask who I'm talking to?" You put on a sweet smile and let the honey slip into your voice. A dark chuckle vibrated from his chest. "My My you don't seem to be from around here as it seems." He took a step towards you and you felt how a shiver went down your spine. "Let's just enjoy ourselves, no need for names." He said offering you his hand and with every cell of your body you knew that it was wrong to take said hand but you couldn't fight the urge to know more about him, he sparked an interest deep within you. "Only one dance, sadly I have other plans for the evening." You placed your hand in his and immediately he pulled you closer. "That's too bad, you seem like a great company and so familiar too." He snaked one arm around your waist as you placed your hand onto his shoulder. "Well, I am certain we have never met, I would remember you for sure." The next song played and you could feel how he lead you both perfectly along with the rhythm, he was a marvelous dancer as it seemed. "Oh, I'm sure you would." He answered with a grin as he spun you around. "Do you know the King's family?" You still had to find Your prince or father would make sure your head was not on your shoulders anymore once you arrived back home. "Yes, I do so, very well even. On the hunt for the princes My Lady?" His grin just grew and he pulled you closer to his chest. "On the hunt for one at least, I want to learn more about him." A rush of heat reached your cheeks, dancing with your teacher at home was one thing but with a charming stranger was another. "Maybe I can help you then? Which one of the princes were you looking for?" You seriously had to think for a moment, it seemed as if you were losing your mind. "The firstborn, Thor Odinson." The grin on his face vanished in the blink of an eye and his body tensed up a bit. "Are you sure that he is the one you were searching for?" His voice was sharper than before and the look in his eyes became dark. "Very much so" You sighed and continued. "I am promised to him already, so even if I wanted things to be different it wouldn't matter." You felt how your heart became heavy and the lump in your throat grew until it was getting hard to swallow. He simply said; "I see." The song slowly came to an end.

"You might have found him" He stopped in his tracks, letting go as he looked over you. "I see you're already making yourself familiar with my brother?" The whole atmosphere changed as the two men stared at each other "I heard that you were on the search for me."

So this was your future husband? Long blonde hair, blue eyes, looked like he came straight out of a fairytale but if that was Thor then that must've meant that you were dancing with... "Loki Odinson?!" You turned to him and he chuckled quietly. "The one and only" He raised his mask a little so you could see his face. "Already trying to trouble my future wife?" Thor made a step forward and laid a hand on your shoulder, it didn't feel right. "I would never do such a thing, I was simply chatting with her about how nice the evening is." A dangerous grin came over him and he stepped back from you and Thor. "My apologies to both of you, I didn't want to cause any problems." You showed your respect with a small curtsy and you felt how the tall blonde softly squeezed your shoulder. "Do not worry Lady (Y/L/N) everything is alright." Thor gave you a small smile, his brother however tensed up as soon as your name fell "Lady (Y/L/N)? As in (Y/F/N)?" You nodded. "How do you know me already?" 

One swift motion from him and the mask on your face was gone, you yelped in surprise and took a step back, only to bump against the older brother. "Loki! Have you finally lost your mind!?" Thor called out and pulled you closer to him.

"What is it with you!?" Loki almost screamed at you "How can you be so ignorant?" His hands were balled into fists, he seemed angry but the look on his face was different, almost like he was... hurt? " I - I'm sorry I don't know what you mean." You hastily said but he was already storming off, pushing away other guests and making his way deeper into the palace, leaving you perplexed and a bit scared.

"Do not listen to him" You heard Thor's deep voice behind you, trying to comfort you as it seemed. "He was never the one for friendliness" You were still looking in the direction in which he basically fled. "If you say so." You lost yourself in a sea of thoughts the waves of questions coming over you one by one. How did he know you? Why would he be so angry and why didn't you remember him?

“Will you allow me the next dance with you, My Lady?” Thor’s voice let you come back to reality and you turned around to face him properly, now back to the original evening plan of being a sweet little girl for your prince. “Of course My prince.” You answered with a setup smile and a curtsy. “Please no need for such formalities.” He chuckled and pulled you closer to him, he was in his armor which didn’t give you much warmth, he was also way more muscular than Loki, his movements weren't as elegant. The list inside your head was going on and on.

Both of you danced together for a few more songs but your mind was somewhere else, everything that happened today was so strange and surreal you would've expected so many things but not what really occurred. It got late and the first guests were leaving already, trying to get out before everyone else would want to do so too. "It was such a pleasure to meet you." You said with a sweet smile. "I do hope we meet each other again before the wedding and everything." Thor returned the smile and placed a kiss on the back of your hand. "I do hope so too My Lady and again apologies for my brother." Right, you almost forgot about that part of the evening. "It's alright, siblings can be difficult, I guess?"

Reach out if you want to be tagged in the next chapters or other fanfiction thanks for reading <3

He nodded and you removed yourself from the conversation with a quick goodbye. Now you only had to find your father to finally leave this damn palace.

Chapter 2

[songfell-ut]

Chapter 9 is done, urgh

This one was quite the exercise in rewriting All The Phrasing. Stoopid fortunes. I ended up splitting it off again. Here it is! Hi, @lostmypotatoes! Next one very soon!

Sans and Frisk did not have a slumber party that night.

No, once they returned from the festival and she finished telling Sans exactly what she thought of his behavior, Frisk sent him to his room, then went to the office and stayed there. Not on the couch: she sat down at her desk to make a few notes while the fortunes were still fresh in her mind. By the time she was done, it was after dawn, her hand was one solid cramp, she'd lost all feeling in her rear, and she had filled up five sheets of paper.

Regarding the child – the one from her nightmares – there wasn't much to write, just key phrases that she suspected would be more intelligible when she'd tracked down the man who spoke in hands. Would Sans have mentioned it if he knew some way in which he didn't belong here? It could simply be his stay in the castle, but it felt bigger than that. She'd had nightmares about that horrible child throughout her entire life, and it had never wanted her to do anything before; had it known she'd meet him, and would its "business" be finished if she killed him?

For now, it was all morbid conjecture. She'd put it aside until she could talk to Sans without wanting to pull his arm off and slap him with it.

So. If she didn't open the box, her life would be adequate. There was a lot to be said for adequacy. Her children would have wealthy, loving parents, and never suffer from hunger, loneliness, beatings—the kind of pain that was all behind her now, the same way a loaded wagon is behind the horse pulling it. Staying busy with her lessons in the strict, orderly convent and then her duties as High Priestess had kept Frisk going, preventing her from having to look over her shoulder. Would marrying Luke keep it that way?

She had gone years without really thinking of her life before St. Brigid's, except for fleeting apprehensions about having to explain the scars to her future husband. Why in God's name would she want to dig that up in the course of remembering something even worse?

By definition, she didn't know the exact contents of the rosewood box. She just knew that when she was about thirteen, one of her teachers had finally explained to Frisk why she couldn't recall anything between her tenth birthday and her second month at the convent: "We could do nothing with you when you first arrived. No food, no rest, just tears and 'Take me back, please' for weeks on end," Sister Clair had told her, almost accusingly. "Your father came to see you for himself, and he was so distraught that he gave the Mother Superior his blessing to do whatever she thought needful."

Frisk had always accepted that the sisters knew best; her father's influence had probably been a factor, but it wouldn't have pushed them to take such a drastic step if it hadn't been absolutely necessary. She herself had done her fair share of comforting frightened or homesick new arrivals, and no matter how distressed they were, none of them had had their memories removed.

She also had come to terms with her father returning home from his visit without her. Her first solid recollection at the convent was of the Mother Superior taking her aside to tell her exactly who her father was, ensuring she understood why he hadn't been a more direct part of her life and why she would be staying here from now on. Accustomed to receiving girls born out of wedlock, the Mother had emphasized how lucky Frisk was that her father had come forward – discreetly – to acknowledge her and pay for her education, and that he would ensure she had everything she needed from then on. Even as a child, Frisk had appreciated how superior the convent was to her prior circumstances, and agreed that she was fine at St. Brigid's.

The only mystery to Frisk was why she had initially been so desperate to leave. She couldn't have been crying for her father; she'd always been told that he was dead, and never thought to question it. Frisk had seen over and over again that mistreated children never wanted to leave their parents, no matter how awful they were, but her mother had only visited her every few months throughout her early life, and once Frisk realized that Mama was never going to keep her promise to take her with her, Frisk had grown to hate seeing her. She hadn't been attached to anyone at the group home where she'd stayed as a very little girl, and when she was old enough to work in the castle kitchens, her only goal had been to avoid being noticed. What had she wanted so badly?

Since Sans had arrived, she had been more and more tempted to try something stupid and just crack the orb or chip off a few figuratively bite-sized pieces. But that wasn't how the magic worked, was it? The sisters had been very specific on how to take the memories back if she so chose, and her fortune had also made it clear that this was an all-or-nothing proposition. She would fully open the box and reclaim the contents, or throw them away for good, no peeking allowed.

At that point, Frisk almost stopped writing and tossed her notes into the fireplace. What was she doing? Why wouldn't she choose a long life with a respectable husband and four children? True, her efforts to free monsters from slavery wouldn't work, but that didn't mean she'd be totally useless. Besides helping humans – always a full-time job – there was still plenty she could do for monsters in captivity, and she'd lay the groundwork for others to finish what she'd started. After centuries of hatred and mistrust, it made sense that humanity wasn't ready yet to accept monsters as equals; she couldn't change the entire world on her own, so—

Except that she could. She could change the world for the better if she worked hard enough to achieve her goal, which she knew in her bones to be humans and monsters living in peace. But how could her lost memories possibly be the one thing that made the difference? And if they were, how was she supposed to deal with that much pain, knowing it would also affect at least one other person?

...But what about the joy, the love, the power, also to be shared? What about the child she'd bear in time for next year's All Souls festival?

That was another worry: the ferryman had said "your husband" for the first future, but "your child's father" in the second. That didn't seem accidental. Frisk knew herself, and she had no idea what would induce her to conceive a child with someone she wouldn't or couldn't marry, no matter how attractive he was or how lonely she might be. With her own morals and her mother's example to go on, she'd sooner die than let a married man near her, and she'd kill him if she found out after the fact!

Surely the fortune-teller would've mentioned the child resulting from violence or coercion? Its wry tone had implied that the father would be unable to talk her out of going to the festival, not that she'd escape from his clutches, which also eliminated the possibility of one night with someone she'd never see again or a man who would die before the baby was born.

So, in summary, she would have little triumphs, large regrets, old age, a decent husband, money, kids, in-laws, and grandkids. Very simple.

...Granted, it...didn't sound quite like the life she'd always craved, with joy and love, real parents, a huge family, and monsters freed in her lifetime, not to mention a man she loved enough to have his illegitimate child...and maybe Frisk could see Luke assuring her with a straight face that he'd "take an interest in her happiness," and maybe it was already making her cringe. Maybe she was already wealthy enough to marry anyone she wanted. Maybe she intended to keep working hard enough that, when she thought it over, she found she would much rather have one child than divide her attention between four who could very well end up being raised by servants. Maybe all these things were true.

...What was she trying to say again?

Right. Maybe all these things were true. There was still no avoiding the fact that she'd be exchanging a life of peace and stability for every bit of the heartbreak that had nearly killed her as a child, and somehow also share it with someone else. Was she stupid enough to open the box anyway out of curiosity, like the woman in the fable?

A treacherous little voice whispered in reply: Are you selfish enough to keep monsters enslaved because you're afraid of being hurt?

Frisk shoved the papers into a drawer and eased out of her chair, shaking her hand vigorously as the sun peeped in through the high window. It'd be time for breakfast soon. She wouldn't take Sans to pieces; she'd let him sleep in, then have him experiment with the alfalfa mixtures while she napped, though they'd need fresh seedlings before he could really get started. The supplies she had already ordered should be arriving this afternoon, which would enable them to try even more—

Sans was not sleeping. Sans was sitting in the middle of the workroom floor with no clothes on. He was holding a book up over his head and squinting at the words as though he'd never seen letters before, and gave a very elongated "Heyyyy" when he heard the door open.

Frisk stopped dead. "Hey," she responded. "What are you doing, Sans?"

"Wheeee," the skeleton said, and demonstrated by falling onto his back. The book stayed up, and his legs fell every which way, one bumping into a chair pulled away from the worktable and the other almost hitting the bedroom door. "'s hot in here," he explained, pointing at the ceiling.

Frisk looked at the ceiling, then at the windows. They were all wide open, and the workroom was freezing. She had the completely irrational urge to cover her eyes, and compromised by turning her back and heading to the windows. "We're going to pretend that it's not hot in here," she said carefully. What on earth was wrong with him?

In the time it took for her to shut one window and place her hand on the latch, Sans had appeared inches away. One enormous phalange wobbled its way up to push her hand aside. "No, 's hot," he explained.

The priestess was equal parts annoyed and concerned now, especially when he teetered against the wall. "Sans, if I did not know better, I would say you were drunk. Have you been mixing things without telling me?" She eased away from him, just in case.

The skeleton seemed to take umbrage: his eyes lit up. "Ya don' know better. I am absolutely drunk!" Just as quickly, his sockets were blank. He peered at the tiny-looking book in his hand and turned it to her, tapping a random word. "How d'ya say this? It's human. How do you human. Please."

Frisk eased back a little more, trying not to look at his pelvis, which was far too close to her eye level. "That's the word 'the,' Sans. If that's not the one you mean, I will have to ask you to be more specific." Should she make a break for the bedroom, or just put up a barrier while she had the chance?

Sans laughed. "Damn, yer cute! Lessee." He dropped the book and continued trying to flip pages in midair. A moment later, he realized his mistake, scowled, and lifted the book on a wisp of red. "Hold on. 's tryin' ta get away." Even the magic had trouble staying steady, she noted uneasily.

Someone knocked on the double doors, and Frisk heaved a sigh of relief. "You can find the word while I answer that, all right?" She lifted a foot to step around him.

Unbelievably quick, Sans sat down, extended a hand, and caught her around the middle in a loose, ironclad grip. Across the workroom, the bar on the doors glowed red and lifted; the doors swung open. "There," said the boss monster, tugging her closer and frowning at the book. "Who's what y'want?"

It was Dr. Serif, who stopped on the threshold, raised an eyebrow as high as it would go, and closed the doors behind him. "Good morning?" he inquired.

"Hands," the skeleton replied, still searching the pages for that errant word.

The priestess was still trying to comprehend what was happening. Was this some kind of bizarre prank, or a distraction from talking about last night? The longer he held on, the less likely either possibility seemed—he was too calm and too comfortable, as if this was something he was doing simply because he wanted to do it.

Here they were, then. With Sans seated and her standing, the giant skeleton could fold his arm and hold Frisk against him like a child cuddling a teddy bear, fingers spread across her upper legs and torso, her shoulders resting on his clavicle. This wasn't quite as scary as the last time he'd grabbed her, but...

Frisk tested his grip and was unsurprised to find that, though his phalanges were angled not to dig into her, they were about as movable as solid rock. "We're having a very interesting morning," she said to Dr. Serif, and mouthed Help!

"I can see that," said the doctor, who gestured for her not to move, then came forward a few steps. Sans' head swiveled, eyes fully lit, and the royal sorcerer turned his next step into a half bow. "I am glad to hear that you had a good time at the festival last night, my lady. Rumors are brewing about a woman with a highly interesting fortune who was called 'Your Eminence,' but no one is willing to swear that it was you."

That sounded like one problem too many. "Good" was all she could think to say.

"I can't find it," complained Sans. He tossed the book out the window. "Gimme another one, pl's."

"You can have it later," Frisk said acidly. That was her old science textbook from the convent, with her notes and doodles in the margins!

"Sans," said the doctor, "where are your clothes?"

The skeleton blinked at him, sockets still wide orange. "Off," he said, as though the sorcerer was being stupid.

"Of course. How silly of me." Dr. Serif bowed vigorously, letting the motion carry him forward. "Tell me, what did you have to drink at the festival?"

"This asshole was comin' onta her." The skeleton's now-free hand patted Frisk very lightly on the head. Despite her irritation, the priestess couldn't help smiling. "I hit 'im with cider," said Sans. "Damn good cider. 'sat why those people were goin' at it, Frisk?" he asked curiously.

The priestess was no longer smiling. "Sans intervened on my behalf when a man wouldn't leave me alone," she explained to the straight-faced doctor. "We tried some apple cider—why can I still smell it on you, Sans? And yes, we saw a couple who couldn't wait until they found somewhere private. I have no idea what they'd been drinking, but it wasn't what we were having."

"Hmmm." Dr. Serif watched Sans, who was examining the back of Frisk's head, then produced a scroll from his robe pocket. "The monster Snowdrake has been confiscated from his owners, effective immediately. I've brought the paperwork for you to take official custody, my lady. He will be here once the captain of the guards has finished questioning him."

Sans started. Frisk tugged at the skeleton's enormous metacarpals. "Let me go, Sans, please."

Very reluctantly, his hand uncurled to let her wriggle free. Trust the doctor to be a step ahead of everyone, she thought as she accepted the scroll, unaware that Sans was staring fixedly at him. The priestess smoothed out the papers on the worktable and began skimming through it.

Sans turned around so that he stretch out on the floor lengthwise. The doctor wrinkled his nose at the colossal skeleton, then peered over Frisk's shoulder as she came to several blank lines for an address. "Where is that, my lady?" he asked as she began writing.

"It's a house I own on the edge of the city. I've been renting it out, but the current tenants have already moved for the winter, so I'm putting it down as Snowdrake's official residence."

"Well done." Dr. Serif glanced at Sans, then suddenly flicked his fingers across Frisk's back. "Forgive me, Your Eminence," he said as she jumped, "there was a spider. We'll have to have your rooms cleaned soon."

The High Priestess scratched her back, gave him a terse nod, and went back to the scroll, moving away from him.

Sans was on his feet. He said to Frisk, "'Scuse us, kitten," then grabbed the doctor and vanished.

She wondered why he was so upset, and why he'd teleported Dr. Serif just a few feet away into the office. Well, at least he'd let go of her without a fight. Should she check on him to be sure he wouldn't hurt the doctor?

After a moment, she shook her head. She'd have to let them hash it out. What was the worst that could happen?

 ~

 The moment they reached the office, Gaster dropped his disguise, summoned six extra hands, and gripped the boss monster's arms before Sans could dismember him. "Easy, now," the older skeleton cautioned him. "Don't disrupt Her Eminence any more than you already have."

"Oh yeah? 'll disrupt yer fuckin'—"

Smack. "Hold still," the doctor rasped, and Sans jerked convulsively as a hand gripped the back of his skull. A moment later, the hand disappeared and left Sans with his eyes shut tight. "Can you think now, insofar as you are capable of it?" snapped Gaster.

Sans blinked at the hands grasping his arms. They disappeared, too, and Sans looked down at himself. "What." He twisted around to look at his backside. "The hell are my clothes? What'd ya do?"

"I sped up the metabolism of the ethanol molecules that were causing you to lose track of your clothing and treat the High Priestess like a toddler with his favorite toy. In short, you were drunk, and you no longer are. Would you care to tell me how much alcohol it took to inebriate someone your size so many hours after the fact, and how you did so without the lady knowing?"

Sans had gone red. "All I had last night was turkey an' cider!" he protested. "She wouldn't let me try anythin' else! She had the exact same stuff, 'n she didn't get plastered!"

The older skeleton regarded him with narrowed eyes, which was extremely creepy. It made Sans think of Frisk's first question, the one about the child from her nightmares—had Frisk been talking about him? If so, then how did he not belong here? Did the kid's unfinished business with him involve murder? Why?

Why should they beware the man who spoke in hands?

Gaster started to speak, and Sans cut him off: "Were you tryin' ta piss me off back there? Are ya after Frisk, or d'you just wanna screw with me? Whaddya want?"

"To help," the doctor said calmly.

Sans sat down with a mighty thmp. "Ta help. Of course. Why didn't I realize that already?" He tapped his phalanges on the carpet. "Who are you helpin', besides yerself?"

"That is a very large question." Gaster also sat down, on the edge of the desk. "My most immediate goal since Frisk became High Priestess has been to aid her in restoring peace between monsters and humans. The longer I have worked with her, the more I find that, frankly, I like her, and I would like her to be happy if possible." No sooner had the words left him than a hand sprang up in front of Sans, who was already fully aglow. The hand held up a finger long enough for Gaster to add, "Which is to say, I admire her caring heart, her singing voice, her magical prowess...her determination. Would you agree?"

Sans' eyes felt ready to burn clean through his skull. Frisk would get even more upset with him if her office was destroyed, so he tried to say something civil, or at least something okay, or something that wouldn't get him smacked again. But he couldn't.

The hand waggled again, then vanished. "Everything I say and do is for one ultimate purpose, my boy: to gather data. I can help no one if I have insufficient information. Take you, for example." The older skeleton folded an extra set of hands in the air over his lap, like a lecturer settling in at the start of class. "Since the High Priestess made you her apprentice, I have considered your intractability to be an impediment to her plan. I ensured that she had a means of preventing your escape, and I have been monitoring your relationship to see if you were developing any kind of rapport. Now that you have, though, you have become a very different sort of problem."

The boss monster was still at a loss. Gaster was quiet, but it didn't feel as if he was trying to antagonize him again; this seemed more careful, almost sad, thought Sans. "In that respect, I have all the data I need," the doctor said. "I assure you that I have no personal designs on Her Eminence, and I will not imply anything further to that effect." He was looking through Sans now, almost talking to himself. "The more I resolve to be of use, the more difficult it becomes to discern where usefulness ends and interference begins. I am more inclined to let matters go where they will from here on, especially after the advice Her Eminence received last night. But..." The slashes on Gaster's face deepened. "It cannot hurt to exchange information. For example, did you notice that the 'ferryman' is a monster?"

"I..." Sans got his thoughts back in order, contemplated the fortune-teller and his cat-shaped table, and found himself nodding slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I kinda did. He didn't seem very human."

Gaster chuckled. "It's strange how these things work. Where I come from, he is the ferryman in the Underground."

"Where you come from?" A chill crept down Sans' spine. He tried to force a laugh. "We just have a coupla Royal Guards runnin' our ferry. Wha, is there more'n one Underground 'round here?"

"No. There is not." The smile faded. "Now, my turn. None of the people who heard Frisk's fortunes told were listening closely to her first question, or the answer. What exactly were they?"

Sans still had that prickly feeling, like someone had held a door open too long and he'd glimpsed something he couldn't unsee. He probably shouldn't tell the man who speaks in hands that they were supposed to beware of him, should he? "Yeah, she asked about something from her nightmares that wanted her to hurt somebody. He said it's a child who wants Frisk to kill someone who doesn't belong here, something about it having 'unfinished business,' and that Frisk was its connection."

The doctor waited patiently as Sans hesitated. "I'm pretty much positive she meant me," the boss monster continued. "I saw the kid once, and I could tell it hates my guts." The boss monster took a moment to indicate that he didn't have guts, ha ha, but Gaster was unamused. "So that means I don't belong here, and some freaky little ghost wants Frisk t'finish me off? I guess? Any chance ya know what any of that means?" He scratched his patella, wondering if it was his imagination or if his body was feeling a little more touch-sensitive than usual, like his human self.

Come to think of it, he could sort of smell the air in here, though it wasn't as strong as any of the ones he'd encountered at the festival. And now he could vaguely remember Frisk being right up against him a minute ago, and that her hair had smelled like...a smell. All he knew was that he had liked it, and letting her go had sucked.

...Crap. What were they talking about again?

"I see," murmured Gaster. He looked down at his extra hands. "Forgive me if this sounds dramatic, or if it's very personal, but have you ever felt especially out of place, or dreamed vividly of things that you are sure never happened to you?"

It was more than a chill this time. "Yeah, but I figured everybody feels like that sometimes. I've had the same nightmares my whole damn life, over and over. They stopped when I came here and started sleepin' inside her barrier. So..." He scowled, trying to cover his fear. "Somethin' is makin' us both see things? Is that it?" He suddenly sprang to his feet. "Is that why I used ta dream about ya? Are you behind all this shit?!"

Two skeletal hands flew at him and stopped just short of his eye sockets. Sans froze, feeling sick and cold inside as he stared through the holes in the palms. Those hands, coming at him—

Gaster gave a long, tired, defeated sigh. "Data. I am sorry, Sans. This will be very unpleasant, but I need to know if it is familiar to you. Hold still, please."

Before the boss monster could react, a third hand dropped onto the top of his skull and—

 ~

 It was cold. Dark, darker, yet darker.

Papyrus wasn't moving. Sans struggled out of the restraints, threw himself onto the tiles and screamed at his brother, trying to shake the little skeleton awake, but pieces were already flaking off. Helpless tears streamed from Sans' sockets, soaking the dust into pink mud.

"Messy."

Sans whirled around, choking with grief and rage. He'd always promised himself he would kill the bastard before he let him hurt Pap! Why hadn't he—

Hands smashed into his spine, his ribs, and one square over his face, the palm large enough for both his sockets to see out through the hole. "I never could fix that design flaw," their creator said in distaste, poking at the red streaking Sans' cheekbones. "Strange...I always thought you'd break first. Ah, well." A philosophical sigh. "Now, the question of whether to finish with you and create a better set, or try a fresh copy of that one first. What do you think, Sans?"

There was a deep sound from behind Dr. Gaster, almost a snarl. It was Gaster's turn to whip around, his face contorted in surprise and every one of his hands flung up to defend himself. A flash of light, searing pain—

Footsteps. A dark figure bent over him. Sans whimpered as Gaster loomed back into his field of view. He should have known better than to hope he was dead!

But...Gaster seemed different, almost another person—paler, the cracks in his face more shallow and less splintered than the ones Sans had stared down his whole life. The hand that rested on Sans' forehead was...gentle? "I am so sorry, child," the scientist said quietly. "Forgive me."

Sans couldn't answer. He felt as if his bones were getting softer, his body lighter. When Gaster sighed, Sans watched tiny bits of himself blow away in the puff of breath. It was almost a relief to feel his SOUL flicker out like a candle and finally die.

 ~

 Sans clawed his way back to consciousness, sitting up so hard that he nearly banged his head on the desk. He looked around, but there was no laboratory equipment, no tile floors or piles of murky dust, just the desk in her office.

Frisk's office. He was here. He wasn't dead, Pap wasn't dead, Gaster wasn't—

"Please do not move."

The boss monster froze in place. "Now, tell me," the doctor said, shutting the door. "Have you had that nightmare before?"

Sans nodded imperceptibly. "Yeah. Long...a long time ago." He couldn't stop shaking.

He flinched as Gaster patted his shoulder blade. "Please don't be frightened, Sans. It was only a dream. I have never hurt you or your brother, and I have no intention of ever doing so." A black coat drifted past Sans' peripheral vision as the royal sorcerer went behind the desk. "To answer your last question, no, I have not sent any of your nightmares, or hers. As I said, I am here to acquire information. I try to avoid collateral damage in the pursuit thereof, but it is not always possible. For that, I sincerely apologize. I've asked Frisk for her help in calming you down."

Sure enough, a sound was coming through the door behind him. It was faint, but as Sans listened, he recognized her humming a slow, sweet little song. Out of her entire repertoire, that one was probably his favorite; he hadn't heard it in so long that he'd been on the verge of swallowing his pride and asking her to do it again. Had Gaster requested that one specifically, or did she know?

Gaster watched the tension fade from the boss monster's massive frame, and the smallest movements of his skull as he bobbed his head along. The doctor examined the center of Sans' chest, his eyes going very wide. Sans was too mellow to ask what he was looking at...probably his SOUL. Eh, whatever.

Presently, the royal sorcerer said, "Snowdrake should be en route now. Her Eminence is still checking that the papers are in order, as well as the deposit she will have to put down until the Church finds another buyer for him." A dry chuckle. "If I know Frisk, Snowdrake will not be sold again. In the unlikely event that someone discovers she's lost track of him, she will be rebuked and lose her deposit, and that will be all."

Sans moved his shoulder back. "She's not gonna get fired or locked up?"

"They wouldn't dare. Not for her first offense, and not for neglecting a single low-ranked monster. Our High Priestess is protected by very powerful connections."

That word took Sans right back to the child from her nightmares. "Why'd you show me that horrible thing with me 'n Pap, and how? I didn't see the ghost kid anywhere. Is the little psycho mad about that dream 'cause it wanted ta kill me first? What the hell is it, anyway?"

"One thing at a time, please. Overall, you may be on the right track, but that's a matter I would rather discuss with Frisk. I—"

"Quit callin' 'er by name. I thought you weren't gonna pull that crap anymore."

Gaster merely smiled. "If you'll bear with me for a moment, the best answer I can give you is that the mind is a terrifyingly powerful thing." Sans bit back his impatience as the doctor settled himself again. "When someone has suffered greatly, especially early in life, it is natural to try to move past those experiences as quickly as possible. But if the mind is active, intelligent, and magically gifted, failure to properly acknowledge these experiences can backfire very badly. Inner demons may become reality, or outside forces with malevolent intent take notice, or both."

"Geez." Sans rubbed the corners of his eyes, wondering where the hanky was. "Yeah, that'd explain why I never got any sleep before I shacked up with someone who could block 'em for me."

A beat of cold silence. "I am not talking about you."

The giant skeleton paused mid-rub. "Ya mean—"

"Most people in a great deal of pain will express it as destructive behavior toward themselves or others. It takes remarkable determination to turn that negativity into the drive to protect other people, rather than lashing out." The doctor shook his head. "I am impressed that she has not seen anything worse than the specter of an evil child. The fact that it can be stopped with a barrier suggests it is primarily external in nature, and her recognizing its intent without acting upon it is also a good sign."

Sans winced. "So, is she seeing it 'cause she's mad at me? Am I in any actual danger?"

Gaster laced his fingers together. "Its power and its ability to work through her will depend both on her intrinsic strength and the energy she has left after dealing with other problems—say, a protege who interrupts an expensive fortune-teller with crude questions in front of dozens of people, and then says 'See you next year' as she tries to get him away."

At this point, Sans would have been surprised if word of that incident hadn't gotten around. "Ya think she's still mad at me?" he asked sheepishly.

"I am not her, so I cannot say for certain, but I can ask you whether you've apologized yet."

"I didn't get a chance! She reamed me out 'n made me go straight t'bed!"

"After which you were drunk this morning, which I still do not understand, and during which you took sizable liberties." A hand popped up to rap Sans on the skull. "At the risk of interfering further, I strongly advise you to ask yourself whether you want to be a friend or a problem."

Sans digested this in silence. The royal sorcerer glanced at the door. "We have a few more minutes. I'd like to ask you a few more questions—nothing terrible, just some odds and ends I've wanted to discuss for some time now. You may do the same."

The boss monster thought it over for a moment. "What's everyone sayin' about her second fortune, the one with the box?"

"Your turn is already over." Two more hands appeared over Gaster's head, one holding a pen and the other a small notepad. "Now, you were a normal skeleton for most of your life, correct? And Papyrus remains as he was?" The hand with the pen swooped down and tapped on Sans' upper leftmost fang, then the top of his skull. "Hm. Intact. How interesting."

Sans swatted at the hand, which evaded him as nimbly as a bug and swooped back up to scratch something on the notepad. "Yeah, Pap's still Pap, and I wasn't born a big ol' freak. Don't ask how that happened, 'cause I don't wanna talk about it."

"Fair enough. Tell me, Sans, do you or have you ever smoked?"

"Smoked? From where?"

The doctor laughed. "I'll take that as a no." Scritch, scritch went the pen. "Do you have a predilection for violence? If so, is it against other monsters, humans, or both?"

"Uh...yes? Humans?"

"I see." Scriscritch. "What is your favorite food? Do you prefer any condiments in particular?"

"My favorite food's whatever I can eat! Haven't you heard what's happenin' in the Underground? Where the hell are you from, exactly?"

Gaster tsked. "In that vein, have any monsters besides yourself become more violent than usual?"

"Not...really. Undyne's more psycho than ever, but I think that's just her."

"Is the situation such that anyone has contemplated resorting to cannibalism?"

"Hell no! Don't even joke about that!"

"I am not joking, Sans. Has the Underground seen a marked increase in sexual activity?"

Great, now he was baffled and embarrassed. "Weren't you listening? There's no damn food! Why would anybody want to have kids right now?"

"A valid point, but to your knowledge, have any of the monsters been engaging in indiscriminate, non-procreative sexual activities?"

"Wha—why the fuck would I know that?!"

That earned him another smack on the head, though not very hard. "Language." Scriscritch. "Now, please be honest. Have you ever contemplated keeping a human as a pet? If so, do you believe you would treat her well, or would you—"

"That does it!" Sans lurched to his feet, eyes and face blazing. "I dunno what kinda sick fantasies ya got goin', buddy, but I'm not gonna play along!"

The royal sorcerer held up his hands, and the extras holding the pen and notepad vanished. "Let's move on, then. Tell me whether this is correct: the second fortune explained the consequences of Her Eminence either opening or disposing of a box. One result is a very dull and safe future, while the other would be shorter and more painful, but ultimately much more fulfilling. Yes?"

Sans sat back down, poking at a scuff mark on the carpet. "Yeah, that's pretty much it."

"Unsurprisingly, many people are fixated on the latter possibility, because it would result in the High Priestess – if it is her, of course, which no one will say for certain, though they're certainly saying it – having a child by this time next year." One side of Gaster's mouth lifted. "It is a very popular misconception that human gestation lasts nine months, but in reality, medical experts consider a full-term pregnancy to be roughly forty weeks, or ten months. I will not contribute any sordid conjectures to the narrative, but if this aspect of her fortune is accurate, the necessary timing of certain events is self-evident."

"If?" Sans sat forward eagerly. "Ya mean it might not happen? No boring husband sometime soonish, no havin' a kid right away?"

Gaster stared at him for a little too long. "Where do you see yourself in this, Sans? Where would you like to be?"

Sans blinked. "Wha?"

"You escorted her to the festival, and mutual convenience led you to present yourselves as a couple, but you are not her husband. You are her apprentice and personal guard for the next twenty or so days, after which she will return to the usual course of her duties, and you will return to the Underground to report to King Asgore that the humans are interested in reopening diplomatic relations."

"Actually," Sans said, trying not to sound smug, "once my time's up, she's probably gonna come back Underground with me. She's got this big plan ta have monsters work with humans instead of bein' slaves, and it's too much fer me t'decide on, so—"

"So you would risk her life by bringing her directly to Asgore?" The doctor stood slowly, and the room seemed to grow darker as he glared down at Sans. "You idiot! Do you have any idea what will happen if the High Priestess is delivered to your King as he is now?"

"You mean, if he doesn't like her idea? Then I'll...uh..."

"You'll what?" Gaster's voice dripped with such scorn that Sans couldn't muster a response. "King Asgore is not interested in making peace! He would only meet with her in order to take her SOUL!"

The boss monster's mouth opened and closed. "But...if I didn't—"

"Asgore's sole aim is to become powerful enough to take vengeance on humanity. The King knows very well that only women with strong inborn magic may become High Priestess, and the moment he saw Frisk's SOUL for himself, he would be willing to fight her, you, and perhaps even Toriel to acquire it. Do you understand?"

Sans had never felt so small and stupid. Why hadn't it occurred to him that Asgore would notice how powerful Frisk was without being told? All he had thought of was the excuse to take her with him, not even bothering to remember how he had immediately noticed her SOUL and tried to kill her for it. He was smarter than this!

There was no time to beat himself up. He had to think. Her first fortune had said her efforts wouldn't bear fruit, and Gaster had mentioned Asgore "as he is now"; for the second future to come to pass, with Frisk changing the world and achieving her goal, the King would have to be more like his old, sweet-natured self, who would never have killed someone without at least hearing her out. "Whaddya think is in the box?" Sans asked abruptly.

Gaster frowned. "That's an excellent question. I couldn't even venture a guess without seeing the box myself, but I doubt Her Eminence would be willing to show me. After what you said last night, I don't think she would be receptive to you asking, either."

Sans let himself fall onto his back, staring at the wallpapered ceiling. Who the hell put wallpaper on the ceiling? "Nope. She'd kick my ass from here to the Underground and back."

"Crude, but accurate." Gaster sighed, twiddling his thumbs in elaborate swirls. "How very frustrating. We have so much information, but the most crucial component may be forever beyond our gr—"

The door banged open. "Excuse me," Frisk said to Sans, who got up and watched her shove the couch aside.

Gaster quickly resumed his disguise; luckily, the priestess was so fixated on the couch that she hadn't noticed. "May we help you, my lady?" asked Dr. Serif.

"No." The young woman yanked at a floorboard, and both monsters watched in astonishment as she pulled it up to reveal a makeshift safe. She removed the barrier and rummaged through the safe, extracting a thickly folded paper. "Here we are." Frisk scowled as she tried to remove the packet: the safe was so small that the paper was stuck lengthwise against something. The priestess dug downward and shoved the offending object up and onto the floor. "Here is the deed to my house in Riverview, and here's the key. You and Snowdrake will be able to stop there on your way, and no one will...Sans? Hello?"

The men weren't listening to her. They were looking at what had tumbled out of the safe: a rosewood box.

Frisk slapped at it, sending it tumbling back into the safe, which she resealed and covered with the floorboard and couch in rapid succession. "Don't even think about it," she said to them, dangerously calm, and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

The royal sorcerer scratched his cheek. "Memories."

"Hm?" Sans glanced at him. "What about 'em?"

"That type of wood is useful for preserving magical objects, but that shape and size are not common. Given the context of her second fortune and the emotional pain therein, it must contain at least one memory." Dr. Serif drummed his fingers on the desk. "How curious. Memory excision has historically been so abused that it was outlawed by King Stephin's great-grandfather. Nowadays, the procedure can only be authorized on a case-by-case basis by a Church official higher than an archdeacon, or the very highest ranks of the nobility or royalty."

Sans suddenly remembered a night not long after he'd arrived where Frisk had mentioned her father, and how loyal her mother had been to the duke she worked for. Just for grins, he'd looked up the hierarchy of nobility in one of Frisk's books, and a duke was the next best thing to being a royal. It all fit, except for the fact that what the hell was in the box? How did you keep memories sitting around like that? Why would you need to carve something like that out of someone's head, and how would getting it back make the difference between a future of "stupid perfect husband she didn't even like" and "monsters going free" plus "having sex sometime soon"?

One more thing came to mind, and before he could stop himself, Sans said, "Hey, Gaster. Doctor. Whatever you are right now. You say you're from another Underground or something?"

The doctor narrowed his eyes at him again. Even with a human face, it gave Sans the creeps. "Why do you ask?"

Sans almost said "Never mind," but the air still faintly smelled of Frisk – he'd have to ask her what it was, exactly – and he wouldn't get a chance to ask anyone else who might know, so, fuck it. "D'ya know if it's possible for a monster and a human to have a kid together? Biologically?"

The royal scientist raised his eyebrows. "Well," he said after a painfully long moment. "It is quite rare, but I am aware of several instances where a human woman married and had at least one child with a monster." He coughed. "With a skeleton."

But before Sans could even start feeling things about that, much less sort through them, the doctor half-smiled. "None of them, however, involved a boss monster." He stood, and walked to the door. "I'm sorry." He slipped out, leaving Sans to stare up at the wallpaper ceiling.

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Beauty Chooses II-Chapter 12

            A special thanks to @statell​ for all your help. Best beta ever.

Previous chapters at AO3

Chapter 12 A Deal With The Devil

An exhausting two days it was, high in the mountains above River Run. I missed Faith terribly feeling almost hysterical in my need to see her. When Jamie called us to load up, I was filled with relief and a full dose of ants in my pants. As we ambled down the mountain, I sighed a lot and flopped around on the seat shared with Jamie. I could tell he was getting annoyed but could do little to curb my constant movement.

“Murtagh, I’d be grateful if ye gave Claire a turn on the horse before she throws herself over in a restless fit.”

I smiled when Murtagh pulled alongside the wagon and I almost leaped on the horse in my joy to stretch my legs. As the wagon moved again, I trotted circles around it, smiling at the men before pushing the horse to canter a bit. I heard Jamie yelling for me to come back and slowed to a walk before turning around.

I couldn’t have been more surprised when two men flanked me out of nowhere. One of them covered my mouth with his fat hand and pulled me onto his saddle. I was thrashing hard enough to almost get away when he pressed me painfully into his lap and ceased any more movement. I heard the wagon come around the bend quickly and suddenly stop. I glanced at Jamie who stared wide-eyed at the two men, his rifle raised, and his eyes darted around them looking for more I expect.

“Please! We mean no harm to ye, we’re just passing through on our way back to the valley. I’ll thank ye to take yer hands off of my wife.”

The man looked at the two guns trained on his head and shoved me off his lap, quite unceremoniously. That is when I noticed the men were naked to the waist, wore long hair in a braid, and painted their faces. I was terrified looking at what I assumed were savages as stories of their raiding and killing came back to my memory. Before Jamie could utter another word, the men turned their ponies and galloped away.

Jamie pulled me into his arms asking if I was alright. I was so sick of my tears but felt them, once again, leaving evidence of my fright. He kept me close to him in the wagon while Murtagh caught the horse. I was not such a wiggle-worm for the rest of the trip and felt deep relief seeing River Run in the distance. I just wanted my arms around Faith for the rest of the night and tried to turn off my warring emotions as we passed more than a dozen slave shacks.

Jamie spent several hours downstairs with his aunt and I was grateful for the tray of soup and bread I could share with Misses Crook, Glavia, and Faith. The four of us relaxed around the food and spoke of the crazy road we had traveled to end up here again in this century. I was proud of Misses Crook and Glavia for their honest recounting of facts and how easily they had assimilated this truth. I warned them against sharing this information with anyone else and they both nodded their heads vigorously.

Little Faith grew sleepy from all the attention and lifted her arms to me. I put her to bed and we all disbanded for the evening to our separate rooms. I laid in the dark and tried to imagine our lives as we built our home and community so high above the plantation. How long would it take to have a door that locked, or feel safe against the woods, the cold, and the hunger? I wasn’t afraid, just curious, and maybe anxious to be a part of a thriving highlander community where Jamie would once again preside over the happiness and welfare of the people who depended on him. I felt my smile as I drifted off.

It was several days later when Jamie came back from seeing people in town that I finally saw a glimmer of hope and happiness in his face. I felt my stomach tighten, knowing he had secured some kind of agreement for the land. I could hardly make it through dinner, with Jocasta’s numerous guests, before I lifted my skirts and ran up to our bedroom to prepare for bed. I paced our room, straining to hear Jamie’s boots on the stairs and when the door opened, I almost jumped out of my skin.

“My darling Sassenach,” he cooed, “what has ye jumpin so?”

He looked dashing, confident, gloriously handsome in his dinner finery, and I felt my knees go weak from the sight of him. I watched him drop his sword and dirk on the table and remove his coat as he approached me. I was helpless to do anything but stare at his face, his lips, his broad shoulders while I clung to the bedpost. I surrendered to my wanton desire of him, my inability to think beyond this room, and kissing him, licking his skin, watching his eyes devour me eclipsed all else in my mind.

It would be another twenty-four hours before I finally asked about the land and then I stopped talking to Jamie altogether, or even looking at him, while my ire steeped. The deal he made for the land, the price for his soul in this endeavor was unacceptable. He had agreed to an officer’s position in the British army. The same army that drove us out of Scotland, killed thousands of Highlanders and banned our way of life, now had Jamie’s pledge of fealty. I believed he would unwind the deal when faced with my incredible unhappiness and waited for him to do just that.

Jamie made many attempts to talk to me only to see my back before I slipped into bed to sob into my pillow. After three days of silence between us I couldn’t take the brutal fear and unhappiness anymore. I was spent from tears, from fear, and from the disconnection to my husband. I felt like a walking ghost just passing time until we left for the great adventure I had come to dread. When Jamie reached for me the fourth night, he wrapped himself around me and spoke into my ear when I wouldn’t turn toward him.

“Sassenach, please talk to me lass. This is the only way to secure the land we want and need. I swore my service to the British knowin the war is still twenty years in the future. We both know this land faces challenges from Indians and the corrupt local justice, and I can deal with that. Why do ye doubt me to such an extent? I must know before my heart breaks completely.”

The betrayal I felt from Jamie’s agreement would not allow me to feel forgiveness, understanding, or even love. My insides felt as cold as ice and I blocked out his words and steeled myself against his pleading. I said not a word and waited to hear him breathing deep in sleep. I cried again until I was completely spent and fell asleep as the gray light of dawn was seeping into our room. When I woke up, Jamie and Murtagh were gone.

Jocasta bent over backward to make me feel comfortable and filled the house with interesting people and lavish dinner parties. I thanked her for each favor of dresses and introductions but inside I felt dead like I would never wake from this nightmare. Jamie had abandoned me rather than rescind his promise to the British. There was no coming back from that, especially in his absence. His priority was absolute, and Faith and I would have to find a place in his ambition or be forgotten I feared.

On three occasions, a traveler arrived at the plantation with a letter from Jamie. My heart rammed in my chest as I held it in my hands and the paper shook violently as I tried to read it. He poured his soul out with his words and begged me to forgive him for this deal. He explained the progress made on the house and the setbacks from skirmishes with the Indians and the local militia who were victimizing the settlers. My eyes glazed over reading about the events with other people feeling even more abandoned. The third letter was mostly about the challenges he faced, alone, without me. There were two brief lines about his love for me, and that was it. My tears flowed down my cheeks and I let the letter drop to the floor. It was obvious he had left us behind to pursue his dream of a Highland community on the mountain. I felt the tearing of my soul away from him and it physically hurt, like I had been cut with a knife.

Misses Crook gasped at the sight of me when she finally opened my door the next day. My eyelids were almost swollen shut from crying and I looked at her from bloodshot eyes. She rushed to my side and held me like a mother would, rocking and telling me all would be resolved.

“I’m taking Faith back to my century Misses Crook. I will take you and Glavia if you want to go.”

She was silent for a few minutes, “of course I will go with ye mistress, yer my charge and I will see ye safe. Glavia will come too I’m sure. It may be strange, that place in the future, but it was a happy home when we were there. Are ye sure the Laird isna comin back for ye?”

“I’m sure.”

Saying those two words turned my heart to stone and I was filled with the resolve to leave this wretched place. I stood up and started searching my drawers for the blue stones and started to panic until I heard the stones rumble in the drawer I pulled open. I grabbed the sack and we left to find Glavia and Faith.

I read Jamie’s letter over and over through the day, hoping to find something I missed, a promise to come for me, a lonely heart wanting to reconnect, but I found nothing. I sat with Jocasta and told her my heart was broken because Jamie didn’t want to find his way back to me. He was high in the mountain building his dream, so I was moving on. Jocasta was terribly worried, but I assured her we were going to a safe place. I couldn’t answer her questions so I broke away promising to continue the conversation at dinner, knowing we would be long gone by then.

In the late afternoon, while Jocasta was napping, Misses Crook, Glavia, Faith, and I gathered behind a barn and linked our arms together holding Faith tightly between us. I looked up at the mountain and tried to feel Jamie before I closed my eyes and concentrated on Lallybroch in 2019.

I felt the earth under my feet and opened my eyes to Lallybroch, pushing the women toward the house as we were very conspicuous in our long dresses and corsets. I felt the key above the window and opened the house to our sanctuary. I ran upstairs finding all my clothes still in the chest of drawers and knew Joe had not moved anything after our departure. I quickly changed into other clothes and pulled a sweater on against the chill. I felt cold on the inside as well as the outside and wondered if any amount of layers would help.

A neighbor’s boy walked out of the barn and I knew he had come to feed the horses. I ran outside and told him I would take over feeding from now on. He shrugged his shoulders and said okay before heading home. Donus lifted his head and whinnied when I entered the barn. He seemed to be looking behind me, looking for Jamie no doubt.

“We must both forget him Donus. We don’t belong to him anymore.”

Making the lonely walk from the barn I noticed Misses Crook inspecting the garden and pulling the weeds that had taken hold. Glavia and Faith were outside singing her favorite nursery rhymes. The three of them looked happy and relaxed with no sign we had just jumped almost three centuries to the other side of the world. I guess only I felt wasted, tired, empty, and heartbroken. I kept walking straight upstairs to lay down on our bed. My bed, shoving my face into the pillow so no one would hear me fall apart.

When I felt Misses Crook touch my arm I knew I had slept many hours and blinked at her while something sad and painful crept up my spine. Inch by inch I felt it moving toward my brain and my ramming heart wondered what tragedy had occurred. It felt rather like a sledgehammer brought down on my head when I remembered we were back in 2019 because Jamie left me.

Dear Misses Crook rocked me like a baby until my gasping sobs were finally under control. She pressed a whisky in my hand and then passed me a plate of food and told me when to take a bite, when to chew, when to swallow. Another whisky and I felt my muscles unlock allowing me to lie down. The covers were pulled up to my chin and Misses Crook sat in the rocking chair and read to me. It was a book from the Nancy Drew mystery series where Nancy and her trusted friends solved crimes. The characters were too young to know romantic love, too young to know heartbreak and betrayal, so it was safe as one word led to another for what seemed like hours. That act of kindness saved my life that night and the next and the next. Misses Crook’s compassion seemed to have no end.

When his hand touched my cheek the smell of him took me to a safe place in my dream where people were happy and encouraging and I was a queen. His touch was pulling me out of my slumber and I resisted, not wanting to face the pain of a new day.

“Pet, open your famous eyes please.”

My eyelids opened but I couldn’t bear to look up at him, so I stared at his leg and felt the hot tears slide down my cheeks. I wondered why I hadn’t died yet. It was the only solution to the crushing pain, and I had done little to sustain my existence so why was I still waking up each day. When his arms slid under me, I knew my arms and legs would fall off if he lifted me out of bed and I felt a glimmer of excitement the torment was almost over.

Joe pulled me into his lap amid my protests to let me be, but he wasn’t listening I guess. I heard him gasp when his hands touched my rib cage and he pushed my greasy hair away from my face.

“You have company, that would be me, so get up and take a shower, or maybe you would rather have a bath. What is your preference?”

I laid my head on his shoulder and tried to go back to sleep. Back to the black I had come to love. When I landed on my feet in the bathroom I wondered when Joe had become so annoyingly bossy and finally looked at his face. No tears, that was a shock, maybe my tear ducts had emptied a lifetime of tears and I was finally free of them. Joe felt the water and announced it was perfect for a nice shower, then he left me there. This seemed odd. Leave me alone in a room and close the door. It was time to go back to bed but when I opened the bathroom door, Joe was pushing me back while he pulled off my clothes.

The shower water was the height of discomfort and try as I might I could not get out. Joe pushed me right back under the water and finally stripped to his boxers and got in the shower with me. He shampooed my hair and then handed me a sponge gushing with lather from my shower gel. I rubbed it down my arm and looked at him for approval. The strong scent of aromatherapy was waking me up and clearing my head, so I was able to finish my shower without help. When I emerged, there were clean clothes on the vanity. I put them on with a deep sigh.

Joe stayed with us for a week, until Baritone could get back from his Paris show. It seemed like they were passing the baton of who would be in charge of me. I hugged them both hello and goodbye but felt nothing inside, just one more thing to do. Baritone was so happy to be reunited with the women, but Faith had his heart. He spent hours on the floor with her asking questions about what game they were playing to which she answered mostly gibberish while he smiled down at her.

The sun came up each day, I went through my chores, and the sun went down. Day after day, week after week, and I felt like a cold wasteland inside. I didn’t cry anymore, nor did I laugh, but it was okay because I didn’t feel pain.

Three months have passed, and snow now covers the ground. Only the horses are happy about the cold temperatures. We stay indoors and watch movies. Joe and Baritone are both here causing loud laughter during dinners and sparking stimulating discussions that I endure, like everything else. I need to get away from all of these people, so I head for the stairs saying goodnight. Seeing the door to my bedroom fills me with relief but during the first sigh, someone is knocking.

“I request the company of my best friend please.”

“For what?”

“A walk.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Joe, it’s freezing out there, goodnight.”

“Think of it as an incentive to get through our discussion without a lot of arguing. I have a small matter that I need your help with, Pet.”

We bundled up and headed out for whatever Joe needed. I only hoped it would be quick.

“I want to talk about your mental health, Claire.”

I was quite practiced at pretending I was in the conversation and most times it was enough. Not tonight. Joe forced me to look at him as he talked about Jamie and asked how I was feeling.

“Stay with me Pet. No, you cannot go inside and hide away from my questions. Do you realize you left him no way to find you, no way to message you or write to you? Jamie went to the mountain to start work on a home because you judged him and shut him out of your heart. I realize the hurt was devastating to you, so you didn’t speak to him for three or four days. But a deal was struck for the land and he was expected to be there doing his duty. I don’t see he had much of a choice. He had to go.”

“So he went. End of story.”

“Extraordinary love doesn’t happen every day, and it doesn’t go away, Pet. Maybe the only thing he could do is start building a house and hope with time you would forgive him, but you closed that door. Do you ever wonder if he is suffering, as you are?”

“No. He is quite busy chasing after savages and protecting settlers from the watch. He probably hasn’t had time to build his house yet. Who cares?”

“You do Pet, and he does, I would bet my life on it.”

“Are we done here, Joe?”

I was feeling weird inside like a piano was about to fall on my head, and it scared me. Wherever this conversation was going, I felt vulnerable and laid bare. I wanted it to stop.

“You owe him one conversation, Pet. You owe the man time to speak his peace and you speak yours. If you decide to quit each other after that you will have no regrets or guilt. I have never known you to be cruel until now and I don’t think you want to be that person.”

“I didn’t know you had such a thing for him.” I was grasping for something to say and could feel my nose in the air like some ridiculous power posture. I was starting to feel something and I didn’t want to. I couldn’t let this happen.

“Say his name, Claire”

“I am going back to the house, this conversation is over.”

“Say his name.”

“Jamie. Happy now”

One shaky stride after the other, I made my way to the house and then to my room. I didn’t want to see anyone, not even Faith. My back slid down the wall and I crumpled on the floor. I went minute by minute, hoping to gain some control over my emotions again. I wanted more than anything to feel nothing and was willing to give up every emotional high for the rest of my life, so I didn’t have to face the pain that was coming.

Maybe this is what warriors do before battle. I willed my thoughts away, closed my mind to everything I loved, and steeled myself against the coming war in my mind. When Jamie’s image filled my mind, I gasped as if I was mortally wounded. I didn’t want this, but there he was. His head was lowered, and his eyes were full of pain on the last day I saw him. He beckoned me to speak to him, pleaded with me to understand his decision. I could see his face and I felt his pain, but I turned my back on him. The man I swore to love until the end of time was shunned by me, his wife. Every minute of our encounters the last four days went through my head. Minute by minute, I saw him plead, with an open heart that I closed myself to. What kind of person does such a thing? That’s when the pain started, really started in my gut, where I couldn’t reach it to pull it away from me. I tried to imagine the same treatment from him and couldn’t because Jamie would never do such a thing to me.

The pain grew as the minute’s past. It felt like a knife slicing through me from the inside and I couldn’t take it anymore. I moaned and cried, holding myself while I rocked against the wall. When I let myself sob it felt like the end of time had come and I sobbed harder, calling out to Jamie in my mind, screaming at the stones for their passage to this disaster.

Hours passed as my sobbing continued. My gaze fell to the floor under our bed, to Jamie’s secret place. I crawled to it, pushing the bed away until the board was exposed. I had to touch something of my previous life, something of Jamie’s. Through bleary eyes I found the seam and popped the board loose, falling on my knees I tore through the ancient papers. The years had faded the ink so much I couldn’t read them, and I felt a helpless spiral toward everlasting sorrow. The papers fell to the floor and I heard a glass vial hit the wood. When I picked it up, my name was clearly written on the paper inside.

My Dearest Sassenach, Nothing could have prepared me for this heartache. I hoped to bring you back to the land when there was a door that could lock you safely inside. I prayed daily for God to bless yer heart with forgiveness. I did not know what else to do. When I learned you were gone, I lost my mind and jumped on a ship headed for Scotland. Poor weather made the journey twice as long and nearly cost my life from sickness, loneliness, and fear I would never find ye. I have been here for many days, avoiding capture from redcoats while I search the gorge for a blue stone. I won’t stop lookin for ye sweetheart. Not ever. JMF

Jamie’s note shook in my hands as I read it. I could not tear my eyes from the paper as I read it over and over again. My poor sweet Jamie, I thought, what have I done? I tried to think of him, searching the gorge in a country loaded with the enemy and felt my protectiveness over him seep into my consciousness. When I stood up, I felt the muscles of my youth flex and hold me steady while my mind cleared for the first time since leaving him. I’m coming, Jamie. Forgive me please. I’m coming for you.

Yanking my drawers open I layered the warmest clothes I had before searching my closet for the blue rocks. I looked for Jamie’s heavy coat and pulled it on before holding the rock and thinking of the gorge I had searched so many times. When I heard the rushing in my ears and felt the pressure of shooting through the centuries, I finally calmed down a little. I am coming, Jamie.

I felt the wind blow against my face and the earth under my feet. It was so dark I could not see my hand in front of my face and proceeded slowly, feeling my way toward the gorge I hoped. When my eyes became accustomed to the darkness, I could see the outline of trees and the jutting landmass that formed the gorge. I exhaled in relief that I had come to the right place but in this darkness, how would I find Jamie? I pressed on, stumbling over rocks until I lost my footing and landed hard on the ground. When I got to my feet, large hands pushed me hard into the side of the gorge knocking the wind out of me and I fell forward, caught by arms that seemed so familiar.

“Christ, Sassenach! Dear God, what have I done?”

I tried to pull air into my lungs, making horrible noises in the process. Jamie picked me up and moved us into the trees. He laid on the ground and spoke soothingly to me, telling me to calm myself and breathe. I felt his hand run down my arms and legs, searching for something.

“Are ye wounded, lass?”

“No.”

I could barely see the outline of his head and body, but my hands found his face and held him. He dropped to my side shushing my tears and holding me close. I wanted nothing more than to lay there in his embrace, knowing he was alive and holding onto me. Jamie shook from the cold, so I scrambled out of his coat and wrapped it around him. He tried to protest until I showed him my own coat worn underneath. I buttoned it around him and held him tightly.

I don’t know how long we laid there, asleep or awake, I just gripped his powerful arms and breathed him into me. When I felt a hand over my mouth, I knew danger was close by and my eyes flew open to the dawn. He looked at me and held a finger to his lips and then released my mouth. I heard men talking and rocks being kicked as they searched for something. We were much too close to the redcoats and I suddenly feared we would both be caught. I felt along the ground until my hand settled on my rock in the pillowcase. I held Jamie tightly and pulled the rock out, concentrating on Lallybroch in 2019.

I felt Jamie’s grip on me tighten as we sailed through time. I lifted my face to him, kissing him deeply, and felt time stand still. The wind in my ears stopped, the pressure lifted, and we were suspended in a space without earth, without a century, as we kissed. I clung to him and kissed him with all the love I felt for him and he did the same. When I broke the kiss, I closed my eyes as the wind came back to my ears.

We laid in a field close to Lallybroch for some time. I could not articulate my thoughts, so I just held him close as he did me. At one point, Jamie pressed his forehead to mine until my tears came, warm and wet on my cheeks.

“I’m sorry Jamie.”

“Sh. I know your pain, lass, as ye know mine. I have but one wish, to stay with ye, wherever ye choose. I will not be parted from ye again.”

It was dawn in this century and we stumbled to the house, still wrapped around each other, and made our way to the shower. I shaved Jamie’s long beard and threw his tattered clothes into the wash before making my way quietly back to our room. When I saw him laying on our bed I started to cry.

“Come here, love.”

His arms were reaching for me and I fell into them as he wrapped himself around me. He rocked me until my tears stopped. I wanted to feel his skin next to mine so I pulled my robe off and hugged him as I tried to assemble words into sentences that would convey my every emotion. The only sentence that formed is how sorry I was.

“I am sorry too, mo chridhe, more than I could ever say adequately. I am so damn glad for yer leap of faith to come and find me. I would have lost my will to live without ye lass, that is the truth of it.”

“I know exactly what you mean. But you’re here now, with me, and we can go home and forget the last three months alone. When we get there, I want to destroy these rocks. I have no interest in being anywhere without you.”

“Thank ye lass.”

His kiss restarted my heart, my hopes and dreams, and my belief in the greatest man. He broke the kiss and confessed he had eaten very little in many days. That is when I noticed his hands shake.

“Dear God! You need a breakfast fit for a king.” Come down whenever you’re ready, I love you.”

I bounced into the kitchen and shocked Misses Crook who was preparing oatmeal for the household. She stared at me in disbelief and asked if I was well. I had not said a word to her, but she could clearly see the change in my face. I held her hands and whispered the Laird was here and hungry. Her eyes went wide, and her smile would have lit up a dark night. I don’t often see Misses Crook move that fast, but she was on a mission. Her Laird was hungry.

The house filled with the aroma of bacon, sausage, eggs, and pancakes. Freshly brewed coffee and of course, oatmeal. It didn’t take long for the men to answer the call of morning hunger. Joe hugged me for a full minute and whispered “well done” in my ear. How could he possibly know I found Jamie last night? It seemed they were all mind readers suddenly and I giggled at that. I poured coffee for everyone and looked at the parlor wondering where Jamie was. When Glavia walked in smiling brightly she announced the Laird was with his daughter getting her dressed for the day.

I peeked into the nursery and felt my heart jump to my throat. Jamie sat in the rocking chair with Faith’s arms around his neck pressing into him. Neither of them moved, they just hugged each other. I waited for as long as they needed and tried not to make a sound. Faith turned her head to Jamie and kissed his cheek repeatedly, while Jamie smiled.

“She has grown so much, and where did all this hair come from?”

I had a choice between feeling remorse and guilt or happiness at seeing this reunion. I chose the latter. Jamie and I both had a hand in our separation, and we would forgive each other and get on with our lives. I smiled at him and suggested he could come for the feast we made when he was ready.

It wasn’t long before Joe and Baritone were on their feet shaking hands and slapping Jamie on the shoulder. Glavia smiled from ear to ear and Misses Crook shoveled food onto a plate and set it on the table for him. A tiny plate was set on the highchair tray waiting for one small, happy baby. Once Jamie swallowed two plates of food the mood became festive and lighthearted. I grabbed the cell phone from the counter and started snapping pictures of everyone. When I put it down, Baritone grabbed it and took many more.

“How is Donus?”

“He will be overjoyed to see you. I’ll get our coats.”

When we were all bundled up, we headed out to the barn. It was snowing big flakes that swirled around our faces. Inside the barn, it was warm from the propane heater. Jamie held Faith with one arm and hugged Donus with the other. He spoke Gaelic to the beast and I was delighted to hear it again.

“We ride, later my friend.”

He held his arm out to me and we walked back to the warm house. Misses Crook scolded Jamie with the utmost respect, telling him many days of food and rest was needed because he was much too thin. He looked down at me with his azure sparkling eyes.

“Perhaps we lay down for a bit when Faith takes her nap?”

“Perhaps we will.”

[cecilspeaks]

169 - The Whittler

Let us go then, you and I When the evening is spread out Against the sky And pick up some Dell Taco for dinner. Welcome to Night Vale.

Beyond our town, past the Sand Wastes, in the Scrublands, sits the old general store. An oaken cabin style A-frame with boxed windows and a covered patio. On the porch there sits a swinging bench and upon that bench sits an elderly man, his face crumpled like a discarded letter, his eyes like tire tracks hidden beneath the shady brim of a straw cowboy hat. The old man holds a block of Elmwood the size of a potato in his right hand, and in his left, a carving jack. He whittles away at the knot of food, shaving off small corners, making detailed lines and indentations. The wood is all his world. And this world is quiet in his lap, on his bench, on his patio, before his general store amid the Scrublands past the Sand Wastes, which curl about Night Vale like the gentle but calloused hands of a father holding a newborn. As the old man whittles, he whistles sad songs with no words. But all those who hear the notes know they are bout loss. That they are about loneliness. But no one hears those notes. Not yet. No one sees the old whittler, nor his general store far out in an uninhabited stretch of desert. Not yet. If they did, they would wonder how an old general store, which was not there yesterday, was suddenly here today, a shop that by all accounts had weathered decades of abusive heat, wind, and isolation. They would hear his sad song, and the universal language of wistful sorrow would hide from them their understanding of time.

Let’s have a look now at sports. This Saturday night, the Night Vale High School Scorpions basketball team begins the district tournament. The Scorpions, having finished the season 18-2, earned the number 1 seat this year, but face some tough competition in their bracket. In the first round, they must battle another basketball team. This is logical, because most basketball tournaments feature other basketball teams. But the other basketball team is considered weaker than the Night Vale Scorpions, because a series of accumulated numbers indicates this is so. Should the Scorpions make it out of the first round and into the semi-finals, they would likely battle the number 4 seed, Nature. A tougher matchup to be sure, as Nature is unpredictable and ubiquitous. Nature’s style of play is best described as capricious and random, sometimes showcasing an array of flashy skills like sunny days, crystalline lakes, and otters. But Nature is a lockdown defensive force with effective momentum stoppers like lightning, quicksand, and poison ivy.

And in the finals, the favorites to compete for the title are Night Vale High School versus themselves, perhaps the toughest battle of them all, as each player must confront their harmful secrets, painful pasts, and darkest nightmares. Themselves are able to match the pace and power of Night Vale’s offensive and defensive sets, and we expect an excellent game. Good luck, Scorpions!  

Most days the Scrublands are absent of humans, unapproachable and hostile. Today is not most days, as a line of Night Vale citizens has formed outside of the general store to see the old whittler and his wood menagerie. Parents ask for photos of their children with his work, and he only whistles and nods nearly imperceptibly. It could almost be interpreted as a slight twitch of the neck, rather than an affirming nod, but interpretations grow liberal when want is high.

Fathers and mothers snap pictures on their phones of children accepting gifts of wood figurines from the old man. The kids stare into the thin black ellipses that pass for his eyes, searching for the charming smile of elderly approval. But instead, seeing every single constellation of the night sky inside slits as thin as thistles and as black as tar. The historic expansion of the universe cannot be fully understood in words or even human thought, but it can be comprehended in the eyes of the tanned, wrinkled stranger.

The old whittler does not charge a penny for any of his work. He does not smile nor accept the many thank-yous coaxed out of the young ones by their manner-minded handlers. Nor does he accept requests. Children have many mascots, heroes, and cartoons that they love to possess via keepsake totems, and they repeatedly ask the old man for whittled representations of their favorite things, like Pokemon characters or one of Pixar’s anthropomorphic cars, or even Ted Allen, host of Food Network’s long running cooking competition “Chopped”. But the old whittler only carves what he carves. And he carves tiny horses, little cowboys, old-timey wagons, armadillos, tigers, tractors, almost anything you can think of. He finishes his sculpture of a koala bear and hands it to Amber Akinyi, who looks at her husband Wilson Levy, who is holding their sobbing, screaming 16-month-old baby Flora. The couple smiles together, never knowing that this balsa koala is everything they could have ever wanted beyond a loving family. Wilson begins to cry at the simple beauty of this craft. Amber begins to cry at the feeling of being understood, and young Flora stops crying as she fawns over the 6-inch tall antipodean marsupial, cartoonishly gnawing on a eucalyptus leaf.

The whittler also carves people. Small human figures, yes, like firefighters and ballerinas and clowns, but also actual people. Harrison Kip told the old man he wished to be happier in his own skin, and the old whittler grabbed Harrison’s cheeks and brought Harrison’s round, soft face before his own crinkled countenance, and Harrison screamed. He screamed in fear of what the old man was about to do. He also screamed in joyous anticipation, and the two screams were discordant like adjacent keys pressed simultaneously on a church organ. The old whittler pressed his knife against Harrison’s chin and began to pull the blade back, using the force of his thumb and the trunk of his forefinger. He repeated throughout Harrison’s assenting and defiant shouts, and after a few moments, Harrison stopped yelling and stood. His jaw squarer, his nose thinner and longer, his shoulders broader. And Harrison smiled.

Soon, the whittler began carving houses, roads, and city buildings. They were larger than the koala, much larger, for they were full-sized renditions of these things. He sliced and sawed away at block after block of red oak, hackberry and peachwood, forming new arteries of city travel, whole blocks of residences, and even cultural landmarks and venues. And the town of Night Vale, in a single late morning, began to expand into the distant and uninhabitable Scrublands of our desert.

Let’s have a look now at horoscopes. Gemini. Bury yourself in your work today, Gemini. Pile that garbage high and rest your weary head beneath its odorous, but comforting weight. Cancer. No more Mr. Nice Guy, Cancer. Today you are Mrs. Disinterested Lady. Get out there and be uninvolved in everything. Leo. You’re the talk of the town, Leo. Word after word is about you, and it is juicy! Like a rare steak, like a blood orange. Juicy like 2008 coutoure. Whew! You should hear what they’re saying. Virgo. You are not what you seem to be, Virgo. You seem to be a blackberry shrub, overreaching and prickly. But really you are a human, squishy and small. Continue to be the thorny fruit-bearing bush, though. Libra. You seek balance, Libra, but you are as lopsided as wealth disparity graph in an economist’s classroom. Share your worth, distribute your value fairly and compassionately, Libra, for the villagers are sharpening their tools. Scorpio. Hey Steve, love you pal! 

Sagittarius. Your (-) [0:10:42] in relationships is going to be your downfall, Sagittarius. You’re an obsidian monolith, towering over everyone, absorbing all light, except the faint reflection of those who want to know what glows inside your stony façade. You don’t have to be a diamond, Sagittarius, or even quartz. Just try for salt lick, OK? I think you can achieve that. 

Capricorn. Oh the games you play, Capricorn, you wicked little sea goat! You naughty caprine ocean dweller with your horns and scales, vexing us with your riddles and labyrinthian logic! The stars offer no advice for you, Capricorn, only envious praise. Aquarius. Put your money where your mouth is, but wash that money first, Aquarius. It’s been in so many other people’s mouths, ever since we added Jolly Ranchers as legal currency. Pisces. You’re swimming upstream, Pisces. Figuratively speaking, of course. I mean you are a human who does not need to actually swim upstream for food or a mate. Get out of the metaphorical stream and avoid the damage you’re going to do to your body and soul. Except for you, Tim. You’re a woodchuck, who is literally swimming upstream. I don’t like you, Tim, because you are eating my tulips. You can drown. Aries. Fake it til you pretend to make it, Aries. Taurus. Don’t hide your feelings, Taurus! Frame them! Display them ostentatiously on the wall. Mount them on plinths behind velvet robed (-) [0:12:33]. Curate an exhibit of your feelings, Taurus. Charge admission.

And now the news. The Night Vale City Council deliberated today on whether the old whittler in front of the old general store in the Scrublands was friend or foe to our town. Those voices arguing in favor of the old man celebrated the huge municipal expansion he was creating so quickly onto undeveloped land. 

“This new infrastructure would have taken us dozens of years and millions of dollars to deploy, and he has accomplished it all in half day!” these voices said in unison. “Plus,” they added, “he whittled a little army man for my kid, a bracelet for my wife, and a sweater for our cat. It’s everything we ever wanted!”

The dissenting voices, and they were few, could only argue that he failed to acquire proper permits for any of this construction, let alone an outdoor vendor’s license which is mandatory even for giveaways. Excepting restaurant samples, marketing promotions, and military dispersion of chemtrails. The many-voiced, uni-bodied creature that is the City Council, huffed in nearly unanimous support for this old man. His sad whistling, his prolific whittling, and his beneficence to our city. “Did you see?” said there of the voices, “that inside the general store there’s everything you could ever need. Cans, boxes, shelves, counters! Walls. It’s amazing. Everything is craved from a single block of wood, and it’s all connected! No glue or bolts or rivets anywhere.” “He’s a deft hand,” concurred four other voices. “How does he even find single blocks of wood that huge?” wondered a solo voice aloud. “Whatever!” the entire City Council roared in unison. “That old man is a superb whittler!”

And now financial news. [hysterical laughter Ha ha hahahaha hahaha every-everything’s fine! It’s just dandy! Uh, thank you for asking.

And now back to our top story. Out in the Scrublands, an entire wooden suburb has grown from the withered hands and sharp knife of the old whittler, who has for the first time today, moved from the porch of his general store. He stands now upon a stage, a round platform on the center of a great amphitheater, which he personally carved deep into the cracked, red rock of the desert floor. The people of Night Vale gather and sit on wood plank rows, which curve in a semi-circle around the old man on the stage. Each person in attendance holds in their hands a whittled object given to them as they entered the audience space. The items are all different, esoteric, and unique, each item and unexpected gift of the whittler. Each item the very thing they have always wanted, even if it was never what they thought they wanted. They hold gently their presents, protecting them with their very lives. The whittler, with his straw hat still shading his keyhole eyes and riverbend mouth, stands before the people of Night Vale who sit in an arena of his own making, each cradling a beloved statuette of his own making. The old man reaches out and takes the hand of his bride. She, of course, is of his own making as well. She is craved of weeping cedar. Her veil, though entirely wood, is somehow translucent, and her sorrowful eyes are faintly visible behind the intricate work of the whittler’s blade. The old man whistles once again, and the crowd whistles along with him. They know the song now. It lives in them like longing, like blood. Like a soul. They know every word of the wordless (-) [0:16:51], and the notes of loneliness spread across the Scrublands to the mountains’ edge and echo back in the key of hope, with a lilt of contentment and satisfaction. They will only be happy when he is happy and he is, indeed, happy. As the whittler clutches the hand of his newly carved betrothed, the clouds part, revealing the happiest thing of all: The weather.

[“Embroidery Stars” by Carrie Elkin http://carrieelkin.com/]

Into the Scrublands I went, myself already as happy as I could ever be for I was with my own true love, my husband. I journeyed to see the whittler for myself, as an effort of journalism, a chronicler of interesting events. I wanted for nothing. My happiness cannot be improved. Or so I believed.

When I arrived, the whittler more than 100 feet a way, and through a mass of thousands, greeted me with a nod so unobtrusive, I believed it to be a trick of the eye. But from the distance, I could see the whole of the universe in those dark eyes under dark shadow, behind the final violet of sunset. I knew he meant me.

Carlos and I stepped to the podium, and the old man opened his palm to reveal an original carving just for me. I had hoped it was a Nintendo Switch, but it was a [sea plane] [0:23:05]. Carlos, like a child on Santa’s lap, cooed and asked the old man for a superconductive supercollider. And the old whittler, his burlap cheeks heavy with gravity and history, reached into the breast pocket of his (-) shirt and handed Carlos a tiny wooden rose. Carlos hugged his rose to his chest, and I my (sea plane). The whittler took the hand again off his bride and gazed upon her, her veiled eyes met by his boundless stare. They stood like that for more than an hour, not speaking. The only sounds were the cicadas chirping and the crowd whistling.

But the tune faded, and soon only the cicadas cut through the silence of a still desert twilight. And one of us, Larry Leroy, stood and walked on to the stage. He touched the old man’s shoulder. The old man did not turn. He did not speak. He collapsed into black ash. Then his bride, then the seats beneath us, it all gave way to crumbling nothing. Then the buildings and roads and even the general store turned into ash. Finally, every one of our object dissipated, like Eurydice almost free from Hades. A gentle cool breeze arrived to sweep our hope away.

We returned home, wordless, with occasional whistles of the whittler’s tune, once again in a sad and lonesome key. Our cherished gifts, we told ourselves, were nothing more than baubles, ephemera, however blessed or magical. They were mere things, not love, not family, not true love, they were objects, toys. Props. Distractions. They were everything we have ever wanted, because we could hold them, see them, touch them. We can no longer do that, but we can remember what it was like. The rough of the wood against the soft of our hand.

Stay tuned next for our new game show: “Name all the nouns!”

And as always, good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Give a man and a fish and he’ll wonder what your deal is. Teach a man to fish and he’ll ask you once again to please leave him alone.

[savannah-lim]

Defying Gravity || Norma & Savannah

Title: Defying Gravity Timing: Nightmare POTW Location: Hanging Rock Parties: @normallee and @savannah-lim  Content Warnings: Hit and run (on monster), reckless driving, Wizard of Oz references

Going for a run or a walk to clear your head. People did that, right? Savannah was way more likely to make regretful sex decisions or have a few strong drinks, but it must have been getting to her head, because she was starting to see really weird shit. Savannah figured a few days off the alcohol would do her some good. She wasn't totally immune from making regretful decisions though, and still managed to snapchat her ex from the clifftop; Apparently they used to hang witches here. Cool, huh? she plastered over the top of a photo of the ocean from Hanging Rock. That definitely wasn’t a shark in the background, right? Nope. Definitely a large seal. “I must be going fucking crazy,” she chuckled to herself before she sent the picture and continued with her hike. She whipped her phone out again to video a flock of birds, curious looking things, probably migrating or something. And what the hell was that big one in the middle? “Holy shit--” she looked around as if checking anyone else was nearby. She’d seen a few dog walkers and bird watchers, so someone had to be close enough to confirm this, right? “Hey! Uh, sorry, hi, excuse me?? Do you see these birds?” Birds, yep, they’re birds, just keep telling yourself that. 

Norma didn’t quite understand why humans were both so insistent on building things up and out and taking over every inch of land they could, while at the same time preserving nature. It truly made no sense. Still, she was told Hanging Rock was a nice place to visit and that many humans enjoyed going there to “get away.” What they were getting away from, she had no idea, but it was nice out there so that was pleasant enough. She sat by the edge of the cliff, legs dangled over the side, swinging them on occasion. The breeze did feel nice and if she sat there long enough, she could almost see the way things used to be about a thousand years ago. Almost. The railings and signs and occasional boat below shattered the illusion slightly. As did the witch flying through the sky. And those things that looked like flying monkies. So annoying. She should really know better to stay out of the way and let the humans appreciate nature in all its splendor. “The birds?” She asked, twisting back towards the woman who seemed a bit frantic. “Oh yes. I saw them. They’re very nice, do you like birds? I’ve been told some people watch them. I’m not entirely certain what they expect to see other than a bird but it’s nice they keep an eye out for them.” Norma turned back to look out in front of her. “It’s such a shame that witch is blocking the view. Really, the audacity.” Norma sighed. Was that witch getting… closer?

Savannah really did enjoy White Crest in a lot of ways, but she was starting to wonder if it would be the death of her, perhaps literally as well as metaphorically. The nightmares, the visions, the hallucinations, it seemed to give her a permanent headache, and in spite of the fact they’d found Javier’s remains, she still wasn’t any closer to solving the case. She was almost desperate for confirmation from the stranger, and yet how could she be sure she wasn’t hallucinating that too. “Witch?!” Savannah’s eyes widened, and she stared at the shape in the sky that twisted amongst the backdrop of clouds and birds. She instinctively took a step back. As the so-called witch twisted and danced on her broomstick among her companions, the sky grew louder with the chattering and squealing of monkeys. “Is that normal for White Crest?!” she asked. A short time ago, that would have seemed like a really stupid question. Now, it was par for the course. 

The woman seemed confused by the word witch. Perhaps Norma had to explain it to her. “Yes, a witch. She’s green and riding a broomstick, see. And yes, most actual witches are not like that but since enough of popular culture has in fact decided that is what a witch looks like, we can both agree that a woman dressed in black with green skin flying on a broomstick is in fact a-- AHHH!” Norma screamed and rolled back as one of the flying monkeys howled and swiped at her head. She pulled herself up and away from the ledge and hid behind the woman. She looked hearty, she was jogging, she had to be athletically skilled in some way. “I’m not aware! I haven’t lived here for very long. I do not think monkeys often fly but I could be mistaken.” Norma squealed as one of the monkeys pulled at her hair. The witch was nearly there, cackling and quite pleased with herself seemingly. “We should remove ourselves from this situation! How do we do so?” Norma asked, panicked, still cowering behind the other woman.

“I know what a witch is! I just don’t expect to see one on my afternoon jog!” Savannah’s words were pointed, her tone and body language erratic. She had really lost her grip on reality. They were going to take the case away from her. They were going to take her whole job away from her. “I don’t know? Run?!” She practically screamed at the stranger, and of course, being that she wasn’t exactly on duty right now, she wasn’t wearing a gun strapped to her hip along with her athleisure wear. Savannah ducked behind a rock, throwing her water bottle at a flying monkey that seemed to cackle as it dove just a little too close. It connected, sending the monkey falling to the ground, useless. But that still left the other dozen or so. She practically grabbed the stranger by the arm, dragging her down with her. “I parked my car over at the other end of the trail. Maybe we can make it.” 

“Well if you know what one is, why are you asking me about them?” Norma shouted. The other woman was running and so Norma did the same as that seemed like the best solution at the moment. “Quick thinking!” she said with a nod as the water bottle decked the monkey that was practically breathing down their necks. It seemed like Norma had hitched her horse with the right wagon, whatever the humans meant by that. “Okay, I think we should just ru--” Her words were cut short by another scream as hands gripped her shoulders and feet wrapped around her waist. Norma reached out to grab her companion, to try and tether herself to the ground, but the monkey’s grip was tight and she couldn't break free. “Help!” she screamed. “Put me down you idiot! I can’t fly! I know it’s very confusing why some furies have wings but they don’t WOOORRRK!” Her voice shifted to another scream as the chattering beast pulled her upwards farther into the clouds. This was bad. Very bad. Norma reached and grabbed her shoe off her foot and tried to slap the animal with it enough to encourage it to let her go. 

This was more of a workout than Savannah had planned for. She knew you were supposed to get your heart-rate up, but this was a little on the extreme side of things. “Hey!” she called as the stranger was hoisted up into the air. She tried to grab for Norma’s hands to pull her back down, but she was gone too quickly for Savannah to stop it. “You little shits!” She scrambled for the water bottle again, for some rocks to throw, for anything that might give them something of a chance. She threw them at the gaggle of primates, which unfortunately disrupted them just enough to drop Norma to the ground. “Oh, shit!” she hurried to Norma’s side, swatting monkey hands out of her hair. “ARGH! GET OFF! Are you okay?!” 

“Let go, let go! Let-- Stop throwing the rocks at me!” Norma shouted at all parties involved, still hitting the monkey with her shoe. She wasn’t sure if it was her shoe or the rocks that encouraged the primate to let go, but it did in fact loosen its grip on her. That was nice of it. She got what she wanted. Then she realized she was plummeting to the ground, wind rushing past her as gravity pulled her back to the earth. Norma screamed and tried to brace herself, covering her head. She hit the ground with a thwack. Gods, there were things definitely broken. Oh no, that hurt. Norma pulled herself off the ground with a groan. She bit down and pulled her lips into a thin line as she popped her shoulder back where it belonged, trying to hold in the squeal of pain. It was very much not her first time doing so, but she never much enjoyed when she had to. If only the whole invulnerable thing meant she didn’t have to feel pain or healed as quickly as some other supernatural species. Then again, injuries aided her in her aim to appear human. The avoidance of what should have been something close to death? Well, that would have to wait. Norma stood up, wincing as she tried to put her weight on her foot, cradling her bad arm with her other. “I’m alive! Do not worry I have not perished! Hold on!” Norma pushed past the pain to grab her other shoe and chucked it at the monkey bothering her companion. It squealed and flew off. “Now please help me to your car before that witch brings that small tornado closer to us.”

“Oh god, oh no, we need to get you to a hospital.” Savannah cringed as Norma clicked her shoulder back into place. Norma’s groan of pain shredded the afternoon air and seemed to give the monkeys pause for a moment, likely due to the surprise of the shrill sound. They twisted and turned in the air, and the witch straddled her broom, waving her arms and cackling as if she were conducting an orchestra. She didn’t have time to worry about Norma’s strange way of speaking. She’d pulled for her phone to call a hospital, but the monkey’s reaction to Norma’s squeal gave her an idea. She covered her head with her jacket to protect her head, turning on the loudest, most shrill alarm sound she could and pointing it up in the air as she ran. She followed the trail, not daring to look back at the small tornado that followed them. “UGH!” She grunted as she tripped on a dip in the dirt path, cutting her palms and, of course, smashing her phone. “Oh come ON!” She winced, pulling herself up. They were almost there. “That one! The silver Honda,” she groaned as she forced herself upright again, leaving her broken phone on the ground as she wrestled through her pockets for her keys. 

“Hospital?” Norma’s eyes went wide and she could feel her heart pounding in her centuries old chest. “Oh, no thank you! I’m sure I’m fine. Look at how very fine I am! I’m alive and breathing, I’m very sturdy like that.” Even in pain, a human hospital was the last pace she needed to land herself. There were too many things to explain and circumvent and truly just simply not going was the best solution. She was unaware of the current plan but hobbling behind her companion was the best she had so that’s what she did. On their way, the other woman tripped and fell. Norma considered leaving her behind, survival of the fittest, or the supernatural in reality. That seemed like a bad thing to do, not the way to make human friends. Norma bent down to help lend a hand to her, pulling her up as they ran to the car. She wasn’t sure what a Honda was but she followed her to the silver car. Maybe all cars were now called Hondas. Norma pulled and pulled on the door. “Faster, please! I would like to hide in your vehicle as soon as possible. Ideally before that tornado hits!” There was a swirl of wind and branches tearing through the trees towards them, witch cackling just behind it. 

“You just… dislocated your arm!” Savannah answered between laboured breaths. She screamed as one of the monkeys grabbed at her hair, smacking at it and letting out a string of incomprehensible curse words before it finally let go. She frantically hit the unlock button on her keys and dove inside. Norma didn’t need any encouragement to hurry. As soon as the doors were closed, she locked them with a swift click. That didn’t stop the witch swirling around them with awful cackling, and the monkeys flying into the windows like bugs on a windshield. Thank God her car had bulletproof glass. The wipers and lights? Not so lucky. She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew she was getting the hell out of her. She turned the key and put the car in drive, stepping down on the gas and ignoring the awful squelch of what she was sure was a couple of flying monkeys beneath the tires. 

Norma fumbled with the door and threw herself inside the car, wincing as her slightly mangled body found a decently comfortable position. She had barely pulled the strange belt contraption onto her lap when the other woman took off driving. And Norma started screaming, bracing her good arm on the dashboard. “When did motor vehicles start going so fast?!” she shouted as they barreled down the road. “Watch out for the— AHHHH!” Norma looked around out the back window. It was very much a mistake. She saw the flattened bodies of the monkeys that they had run over as well as the swirling tornado headed their way. There was no way they could out run it. Unless… “Turn right!” she shouted. “Go towards the water! Just to the edge. Then stop! I think it’ll work!” Fingers crossed. “We might need to jump out of the car if we want to…” Guess they’d see.

Savannah was a good driver. They did learn car chases in Quantico, but that was a lifetime ago, and these weren’t exactly the conditions she’d tested under. “Fuck, shit, fuck!” She cursed more emphatically under her breath, and then not so under her breath. She couldn’t take her eyes off the--well, it wasn’t even much of a road--but she couldn't take her eyes off it anyway. She was less than thrilled about driving on these precarious cliffs, but she was running on pure adrenaline and did it anyway, half-skidding around the bend as she took a hard right, and skidding again to a halt with grass and rock under the wheels before the tornado blew past them, just a few feet from the window, and off into the ocean. She took a breath, then another, and another, and as quickly as it had turned to chaos, everything was calm again. “Jesus,” she sighed, clutching her chest and leaning back in disbelief. “That was a close one.” Savannah looked over at her passenger to ensure she was unharmed. “Are you okay? I’m Savannah, by the way… didn’t get a chance to introduce myself before Planet of the Apes.”

Norma screamed the entire time they were driving down the way, through the winding path, tornado just behind them. This was not a nice pleasant day in nature. Humans were truly perplexing in their definitions of a good time. She ducked under the dashboard as the tornado blew past and into the water. She peaked out to see a house drop down right next to them, striped stockings sticking out from underneath the porch. “I think the witch is dead. That’s nice. It was a very convenient house. I’m sure that someone will be very happy to live here at this very nice park. I assume the tornadoes only happen with mild frequency.” She turned back to the driver and gave a smile and held out her hand, Oh wait, no, that was the injured one. Right. She held out her other hand to shake. “I’m Norma Lee. It’s very nice to meet you. I’m thrilled you were able to save me from the flying monkeys. I very much hope that house was not yours. Mine is downtown. Would you be willing to drive me back there? Thank you!” She was not sure if this was a normal interaction but hopefully, she made herself a new friend.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans + Horror Movies = Nightmare fuel for psychic aliens.

Recently been on a binge of watching how alien species would react to humanity finally getting into the galactic scale of things and decided to write a short story of what happens when a psychic species attempts to mess around with a human who loves horror movies.  The Confederation of Basalva was the largest political body in the universe, spanning nearly some 500 different species, 4,000 planets, and numerous other asteroids belts, moons, and gas fields across the cosmos for the last five millennia. It's authority was regarded no less than that of an actual god. A fact that the Flinchestet had been counting on for their end game. The Flinchestet were among some of the newest members to the confederation, but despite this they had already carved out a significant power base within the confederation. Tall slender figures with pale white skin and limbs as thin as bamboo stalks, they moved gracefully and appeared almost angelic. They towered over many of the other species but given their appearance came off as frail and harmless, which was exactly what they wanted. Their real power didn't come from a large army or superior economy, nor did it come from any physical traits or great deeds they had performed in the past, no. Their power was in their well hidden psychic abilities which allowed them to subtly influence other species to do their bidding. During the mass gathering of the entire Confederation on the planet Omnicron, the seat of the governments power, they would gently probe the minds of other species and being altering their mindset so that they believed their peoples best interest lay in whatever the Flinchestet wanted. Through these tactics they had quietly altered several dozen counselors from different planets to voting with them and now were growing to a steady 1/3 majority of the entire confederation with their end goal to usurp the entire body to their will. They had played the long game to avoid the risk of discovery, but even those that did suspect them of their fowl play dared not risk raising the issue for fear of being set upon by the Flinchestet. So when humanity finally was allowed to join the ranks of the confederation no one dared warn them of the danger they now put themselves in. Despite mastering space travel and carving out a semi pocket empire of their own, humanity had been denied entry into the Confederation of Basalva for several decades. It wasn't until after humanity helped in defeating the Morimani invasion that their skills were recognized and they were granted a seat. Some felt it a fitting reward for their sacrifice, while more felt it was wise to keep such a trained warlike species close by to help whenever conflict arose. For the Flinchestet, they saw an easy target to increase their power base once again with little effort, judging that human minds were simplistic and malleable. So as the shuttle carrying the first ambassadors of humanity landed on Omnicron they were greeted by the several other ambassadors, foremost among them the female Flinchestet ambassador Raksula. Humphrie stepped down the staircase from the shuttle on to the red carpet followed shortly by his aides, advisers, and co ambassador Morgan. At the end of the carpet stood a group of aliens of whom he could guess were other representatives. He damn near tried to go over the briefing about the other ambassadors, but he was having trouble pronouncing their names let alone matching them to faces yet. At the front of the group stood a tall slender figure in robes that both spoke of modesty and yet still carried an air of superiority. "Watch out," Morgan whispered in his ear, "they might be playing "Rush the freshman"." Humphrie couldn't help but chuckle before coughing to cover it up. "Now's not the time to be making jokes you old sage." "True, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't be cautious. Would you have expected such a welcome wagon?" Morgan said as his gaze stretched across the crowd of figures. "Yes, it does seem a bit much for a welcome party. Best to get on with it though instead of standing here in plane sight whispering to each other like we're already plotting on who to kill." Humphrie moved forward down the carpet and finally reach the robed figure in the front and bowed. He pulled out a translator unit and attached it to his throat. "I am the ambassador of earth, it is an honor to meet you all." The robed figure matched the bow before reaching out with a hand. "I am ambassador Raksula and the honor is ours to meet such a fierce species who came to us in our time of need." Humphrie took the hand and shook it, though Morgan couldn't help but notice a momentary freeze on Humphire 's part after touching Raskula. Raskula put her hand behind Humphrie and motioned to the other ambassadors present before introducing them. Morgan had hoped that the games wouldn't start right off the bat, but it was clear that they would need to be on their toes at such a brazen power move so early. By having Raskula introduce the others instead of letting them introduce themselves, she was making it clear who was in charge. Despite now being on the galactic stage, it seemed that the same tricks were used even now. Morgan made a mental note to do research on Raskula hoping to find out if she was playing a game or just being nice. As the group of ambassadors moved away with Humphrie and Raskula in the front, Morgan new only time would tell him his answer. ----------------- In any event it took nearly three months before Morgan was sure there was something wrong. At the first few sessions whenever Humphrie  put forward a motion Raskula and her followers would second it and then vote in its favor. This went on steadily for the first two weeks before things changed and Raskula began making motions and Humphrie  would second them despite in most cases being counter productive to not just humanity but other species as well. Morgan cornered Humphrie in his office by the fifth month after having seen Humphrie  just vote in favor of the impartial servitude clause. "Are you mad Humphrie?" Morgan near shouted at him as he sat behind his desk. "You've just seconded a motion for a slavery bill! Do you have any idea the shitstorm you just walked into?!?" Humphrie  put his hand on his chin while nodding, his eyes appearing as if he was watching something far off in the distance. "It's not a slavery bill, it's a bill to make those who default on payments to the Flinchestet repay them with servitude until the debt is paid." "My god man, you really have lost it!" Morgan swept his arm across the desk sending papers and awards flying into the wall. "Flinchestet loans are stacked with such high interest that unless you pay it back in one payment you are stuck with an ever increasing debt for the rest of your life! Then there's the clause that states that all offspring shall have the debt transferred to them in the event of the original recipient dying before the debt is paid off." "The Flinchestet have been good to us." Humphrie said as if he was reading a line from a script. "We must honor their support by supporting them."   Mogan's hand struck Humphrie's face so hard that he flew from his chair and struck the ground. Morgan was about to unleash another string of blows and insults for his friends stupidity when he took a closer look at Humphrie and stopped. He expected some sort of rebuttal or at least a fist fight to break out after taking the blow, but Humphrie was just laying on his hands and knees staring around blankly like he just fell out of bed. "Where am I?" he murmured, his hand pinching the brow of his nose and blinking rapidly. Morgan walked around the desk to Humphrie and crouched down in front of him. "Wha do you mean where are you, you're in your office you idiot. So get up I'm not done thrashing you out!" Humphrie looked up at Morgan as if he was seeing him for the first time after years apart. "Morgan?" Humphrie's voice soft and questioning as if he wasn't sure of himself. "What are we doing here? Weren't we just on the shuttle pad?" "I see I hit you so hard I sent you back in time." Morgan remarked as he hauled Humphrie to his feet. "That was near five months ago." "Really? That long?" Humphrie was gazing around the room now and Morgan knew something was wrong. "You better not be fraking with me now Humphrie, this isn't some joke right?" "I swear it isn't." Humphrie felt like his legs were turning to jelly all of a sudden and he sat back down in his chair. "What's the last thing you remember?" Humphrie's mouth opened and closed several times, his expression as if he was desperately searching his own memory for an answer. "I remember stepping off the shuttle with you and then walking down the carpet." "Anything else?" Humphrie closed his eyes tight and spoke "Then I bowed to Raskula and shook her hand. Then..then.." "What?" Morgan was convinced now something was off. He could tell Humphrie was showing signs of memory loss but the timing made no sense. "After I shook her hand a door opened up." "A door you say?" "Yes, but to the strangest room I'd ever been to." Morgan sat down opposite him. "How so?" "There was art on the walls, but it wasn't like pictures. It was like I was looking at moments from my past. And Raskula was there too." "What did she do?" Morgan had a good picture now of what had happened but needed final confirmation. "She was talking to me, pointing out instances of my past that were bad and how they could make them better." "Well frak man, sounds like you got brainwashed." Morgan said calmly. Humphrie just stared at the ceiling for a long time. "There was a time when I'd say that was horse shite, but we traveled half way across the cosmos." He sighed loudly before turning his gaze to Morgan, his eyes suddenly looking like he hadn't slept for weeks. "What should I do?" Morgan sat in silence for a long time before standing up, walking to the other side of the desk and placing his hand on Humphrie's shoulders. "Don't you worry my friend, I've got this. Just stay in your office and I'll take care of this." ------------ The main chamber was the size of a football stadium and was packed with ambassadors. Raskula was sitting in the corner surrounded by her faction members. Her satisfaction at the coming events was well hidden, but soon there would no longer be a need to hide behind masks. The bill she had put forward would ensure the servitude of all species that failed to pay back loans of the Flinchestet. The vote had been close even with nearly 1/3 of the body was firmly under her control and would vote however she wanted. What had really swung the vote for her was snagging the human ambassador. His species reputation had earned them some credit  and other species respected them enough to vote however the human voted. Their minds were far easier to manipulate that she had imagined and now with this vote the Flinchestet would be one step closer to securing total domination of the cosmos. As the final representatives began shuffling in Raskula peered over to where the human would be and rose in surprise. Ambassador Humphrie was no were to be seen and in his place was another human. Morgan, Raskula recalled, that was his name. She could barely remember his name, though she hadn't cared to fully learn after snaring the ambassador. The gong of summons was sounded and the magistrate took the stand. "The representatives are gathered and this session is now called to order to vote upon the bill put forward by ambassador  Raskula." This was bad, though Raskula. Without the human vote the measure would fail and failure was not acceptable. "A point of order my dear magistrate." Raskula spoke as she stood. "It seems we are still missing ambassador Humphrie. With such an important measure I would ask that we wait until he arrives." The magistrate turned from his high podium to gaze upon Morgan. Upon meeting the gaze Morgan bowed. "I beg your pardon magistrate and fellow ambassadors. Ambassador Humphrie has fallen ill and will not be able to be here at this time." "I do hope ambassador Humphrie is not in serious danger." Raskula said realizing she'll need her fallback plan. "I move we postpone the vote on the Flinchestet servitude bill until ambassador Humphrie recovers and can return considering he was a co-sponsor of the bill." Those ambassadors that hung on her every words all nodded their head and she felt assured she had avoided disaster. "You make a fair point ambassador." the magistrate said before turning back to Morgan. "Do you accept this proposal?" Morgan smiled and put his hand up in the air. "That is very kind of you to suggest, but ambassador Humphrie felt this vote was of such importance that I be given representation in his stead which is allowed by the Confederations regulations as I am the second ambassador of humanity." The magistrate nodded and turned back to Raskula. "The human is correct, he has the right as the second ambassador to cast a vote in the event of the first ambassador being unavailable." "Those fraking idiots!" Raskula screamed in her head. She had no sway over this second ambassador and she could not risk a vote of this importance being left to chance. If she could just touch him she could imprint enough subliminal messages to ensure he'd vote however she wanted, though he may turn brain dead afterwards. "Very well then magistrate." Raskula said, a final idea coming to her. "Though I have only briefly met ambassador Morgan I that I should welcome him in his species customary greeting to celebrate his first official vote in this hollowed hall." Thankfully that customary greeting was a "handshake" as they called it which gave her the best chance to subvert him and secure her victory. "That is most kind of you ambassador. I would gladly shake the hand of such an esteemed member of this government." Morgan said as he smiled. Raskula rose from her seat and quickly went to Morgan's place, extending her hand as she got close. Morgan stuck out his hand and grasped her hand and the world went dark.... Raskula had done this countless times and this would be no different, or so she thought. Morgan's expression never changed from a harmless smile but his grip tightened around Raskula's to the point of pain. Hardly any of the other ambassadors were paying attention to the interaction until Raskula started screaming. No one in the Confederation had ever seen a Flinchestet in pain or heard them cry out in pain, many assumed they had no concept of pain. That was quickly dispelled as Raskula let out a ear screeching scream. Morgan still stood motionless and smiling as Raskula collapsed to her knees and began desperately trying to free her grasp from Morgan's hand. The screaming continued for several more moments before to everyone's horror red gashes began forming slowly across Raskula's body. Like someone was slowly taking their time to cut into the alien flesh with a scalpel. Green blood began dripping from the wounds as more and more gashes began appearing across her body and her struggles began becoming more feral. In roughly a minute after Morgan had grasped Raskula's hand she collapsed to the ground bleeding from a dozen wounds that had appeared out of thin air. "Someone help!" Morgan shouted, quickly going to his knees to cradle Raskula. "The ambassador is hurt! Please, someone call a doctor!" Raskula stared in horror at Morgan before the room slowly turned black and she faded out of existence. --------------------- Raskula slowly stirred from her sleep. She felt weak, frail. Her limbs would barely respond when she tried to move them and with far greater effort then she thought she needed she opened her eyes. She was laying in a bed of some sort, wires stuck in her running to nearby machines which she could only assume were some sort of medical device. It didn't take long to put two and two together to figure out she was in a hospital, but how had she got here? "I'm glad to see you're finally awake." A voice came from the beside her. She slowly turned her head and saw Morgan sitting in a chair next to her bedside. Upon seeing him a cascade of horror and nightmares came flooding back to her and she felt an unworldly sense of dread and despair. She opened her mouth to scream but Morgan shushed her and put a hand over her mouth. "I don't think we need a repeat of what happened in the assembly room, do we?" His smile never left his face which made her sense of anguish even worse. "Nod your head if you agree, then be quiet and listen." The pain she felt was still as fresh as when she first shook his hand and she had no desire to repeat that. She nodded her head and Morgan removed his hand. "Good. Now you're probably wondering what the hell happened to you aren't you?" Morgan sat down and continued without even bothering to wait for her response. "You see, I found out what you did to Humphrie and let me tell you I was very upset. So I did some more research on your species and a better picture began to form about your powers." "You have the ability to invade peoples minds and begin making suggestions to them that will eventually take root and alter their character for good." Morgan chuckled as he continued. "That's a very, very impressive power you have; but it also gives you away for it's greatest weakness." Morgan leaned forward so Raskula could get a clear view of his eyes. "You have to go inside someone else's mind for it to work. So with that knowledge, I made sure to watch a few dozen of the most gruesome, bloody, sadistic, depraved, and horrifying horror movies I could find and watched them for days until they were all I could think about every waking moment." Raskula was on the verge of throwing up as she remembered what she went through when she invaded his mind. Instead of seeing past memories of Morgan's life she saw an empty room with a strange table in the center of the room. The door she had entered had slammed behind her trapping her in his mind, something she had never experienced before. The next thing she knew she was strapped down to a table unable to move as a hooded figure leaned over and began cutting her, over and over. After what felt like an eternity the rooms floor fell away and she felt like she was falling helplessly until splashing into a body of water. She barely had the strength to reach the surface to gasp for air when she saw she was in the ocean with a small island close by. She felt something behind her and she turned to see a massive shadow swimming beneath the water heading towards her. She began swimming to the island hoping that she could make it to shore and be safe. She turned around again to see if the monster was still there and all she saw was row upon row of sharp teeth clenching down on her limbs. She felt intense pain as it pulled, tugged, and ripped at her flesh and drew her down into the dark depths of the ocean. As it got deep enough she found herself once again falling back into the ocean repeating the whole situation again. Each time she scrambled for the shore, hoping each time it would be different, and each time failing and feeling herself being ripped to shreds. After that different scenarios played out one after the other, each more painful than the last until she felt what bits of her sanity crumbling. Raskula began violently coughing as she remembered every second while Morgan watched in silence.  "You....are....a..monster." Raskula coughed between gasps. Morgan laughed at that which only seemed to disturb her even more. "Yeah, I'll let you in on a secret of mine. I actually love horror movies, they're a hobby of mine to track them down and watch them. I've got a small library of horror movies that I take with me for relaxation." Raskula couldn't fully comprehend that magnitude of the monster she now faced. "This has been fun and all but it's time to get to the point." Morgan leaned closer while still smiling. "You might think I felt any of what you experienced, but I've seen it so many times I've turned numb to it. I didn't feel anything, not even a prick. So here's the deal. If you ever, EVER, use those powers of yours again like you have been I promise you I will make your existence nothing but pain and misery the likes of which you've never seen." Raskula felt some sickening feeling that he had been holding back on his worst thoughts and she tried to get as far away from Morgan as she could. He leaned over and gently placed his hand on hers and she instantly began panicking. "My species ran out of things on our planet that gave us real fear a long time ago, so we decided to invent things that scared us instead; and if we can do that to ourselves for the sheer thrill of feeling fear again, you can only imagine what we can do when we wish to inspire fear in others for a real purpose." --------- No one was sure what exactly happened during the events of the main chamber meeting, but in the following weeks the Flinchestet faction began falling apart. They simply just began agreeing with whatever the humans put forward and kept to themselves. Oddly enough, they have also begun refusing to shake hands with any human regardless of the situation. Ambassador Raskula was recalled from her position after she severed her own hands using medical equipment and was swiftly returned to the Flinchestet homeworld.  

[sweets-fanfics]

Retribution 2

Title: Tumbleweed

Wordcount: 4174

Warning: violence, slow burn

Tags: *crickets*

AN: I love my OC you can’t stop me.

)___________(

I shot up in my cot covered in sweat. The breeze flowing across the Heartlands where the camp was set up felt cool and instantly began to calm me. I ran my fingers through my hair trying to forget the nightmare I had just had of that night. The sun hadn’t risen yet but it had to at least be right before sunrise. 

Birds chirped in the trees nearby. I glanced over my should through the planks of my camp to look at the overflow our camp was situated by. I took a long sigh as I regained composure and figured I wouldn’t be getting much sleep anymore and got up for the day. 

Cripps who never seemed to sleep already had coffee brewing by the fire inviting me to take a cup for myself. He talks a lot, but not in the mornings. Cripps simply smiles and goes about his business. 

I smile at Buster as he walks out from his spot under the wagon and stretches before walking up to me. “Buenos Días, mi amor.” I hum to him softly while scratching his favorite spot on the top of his head. The American foxhound bounced back and forth as is rubbed his head. He let out a small bark when he had his fill and went to go do whatever it is he does. 

After enjoying my coffee the sun starts to peek over the hills that surround this valley. I looked around seeing that my campmates have not come back yet. I see movement in one of the tents and Hair climbs out and stretches.

“When did you get back...?” I blank again on her name but don’t want to be rude. 

She sighs, “Yakira.”

“I was just about to say that.”

“Uh-huh. I got back maybe an hour ago. I couldn’t sleep.”

“You didn’t bring the other two?”

Yakira shrugs, “They were gone.” 

I groan and start to grab my bag. “Well now I gotta go look for two middle-aged men,” I think for a moment, “Mr. B will be fine I just need to find Irish before he picks a fight. Stay in camp in case Irish comes. If he does just send Buster to get me.” She nods and goes to get coffee as I climb on to Willa and take off for Valentine.

The ride through the Heartlands is always beautiful in the morning. Pronghorn and Deer run past when I spook them from being to close. Buffalo glance as I ride past but stand their ground. Even the rabbits and squirrels seemed up an awake. I ride into the dusty town of Valentine in search of a certain Irishmans horse. I see the horse hitched at the saloon. 

I stop and hitch Willa next to the big Shire, Irish unfortunately named “Riggy Tony” after his strange obsession with Italian food. He had once met a man from Italy who showed him this kind of food and now he names everything after an Italian dish. But seeing as I’m still teaching him to write he spells it all phonetically.

I give Riggy a pet as I step into the saloon and see the mess before me. The entire saloon is a mess. Chairs are thrown and broken. The mirror behind the bar is shattered. The bartender looks up from where he’s sweeping and his face gets red. “Oh no. No no no, You’re guy did enough mess.”

“What happened?”

“The Irish guy started beating some guys up-” 

Before he can finish there’s a groan from upstairs and a body slams into the ground at my feet. “Oi, you think you could win a fight against me?”

I let out a long sigh. “Irish, we can’t keep doin’ this in every town.”

Irish appears over the banister directly above me and gives me a giant smile. “Josie!” He pulls back and begins his long journey to the stairs. His face is bright red from the alcohol and he’s barely walking and more like limping as he goes. “This wee lass in my boss!” He points to me and smiles at the bartender who is not impressed. “This little girl here is going to take down the O’Driscols with me and I’ll…” He stops to burp, “I will help her kill that damn Mexican gang.” 

“Dear god, Irish, let’s go. We have ruined this man’s building enough.” I start to move him towards the door when I hear a loud punch sound and suddenly the overweight Irish man falls back trapping me under him. “What the fuck?” I somehow get myself up and see a giant angry man standing above me with a red face.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asks me. 

“I feel I should ask that you jackass.”

“This low life tried to pickpocket me last night.”

“I’m sure he was probably going for your beer.” I try to calm him down before patting Irish on his forehead to wake him up.

“If he gets up again I’ll kill him.”

“For… pickpocketing?” 

“He’s a garbage theif. You probably are too, you dirty greaser.” The insult wasn’t anything new. I’d been called it so many times before. Especially when I still ran with the Del Lobo. And wearing my mother’s white and blue blanket poncho across my shoulders probably didn’t help either.

I slowly stood up and dusted off my pants before calmly looking at the asshole and socking him so hard in the face, that he falls out of the saloon, down the two steps and into the dirt. Everyone near the saloon stops and walks over to see the commotion. And since the saloon is in the middle of town I’m pretty sure all of Valentine was about to see this man get his ass handed to him by a young girl. 

“You dumb bitch.” He grumbles as he begins to get up and rub his nose. “You broke my nose.”

“Imma bout to break more you son of a bitch.” I threaten as he stands up and towers over me. 

“Kick his arse.” Irish slurs from somewhere behind me. I roll my shoulders back and try to hold myself up more like I will kick this guys ass. I mean… I probably could.

He swings towards me and I duck and punch his jaw making the crowd cringe. A few more punches and I start to realize he might not hit me. Admittedly I get a bit cocky and punch him in the gut before turning and smiling at the crowd. As I spin around and wave I spot a familiar smirk amongst the crowd that distracts me long enough for the guy to grab my arm.

“Uh oh,” I mumble as the man turns me to face him.

“Got too cocky didn’t ya.”

“I mean… yeah, I’ll admit it.” 

Just as he raises his fist another hits him knocking him out. I turn around to see Irish, still drunk, pat my shoulder before passing out. “Irish not again!” I groan and try to catch him only to have him slip and fall in the dirt. 

The crowd begins to disperse as I struggle to wake Irish up. “Mrs. Espinosa?” I look to my left and see Arthur giving me a sympathetic smile. “You seem to need some assistance.” 

“I don’t….” I look at Irish, snoring on the ground. “Yeah. Just to get him on the horse.”

Arthur smiles and grabs Irish’s shoulders while I grab his feet. “Your gang seems to have a lot of fun getting into trouble.”

“I didn’t think he’d get drunk on his way back from getting drunk.” I struggle to say as we put him on the back of Willa. She wines a bit but I give her a sugar cube and calms down. “What are you doing so far North?”

Arthur reaches into his bag and hands me a piece of folded up paper. “From Hosea, says you would know what it is.”

“You didn’t peek did you?” I give him a suspicious look as I unfold the paper and see the name of the marshal he had talked about. And a list of towns he frequents. 

Arthur holds his hands up, “Ain’t my business.” I smile and put the paper in my bag. “However,” He starts, “If it’s about revenge… I don’t think it’s the best idea.”

“What do you know?” I say a bit too bitterly and instantly regret it. “Sorry, Mr. Morgan.”

“Don’t be. You’ve gone through a lot last year. It’s okay to be angry, but revenge is past anger.” He awkwardly pats my shoulder but I can tell it’s an attempt at comforting.

“I’ll do what I must, Mr. Morgan. But I’ll think about your words. Tell Mr. Matthews thank you for me.” I climb onto Willa.

“You gonna need help with him?”

“Nah, I got help at camp. Hey, is Dutch sure about Micah?” 

Arthur shrugs and scratches his chin, “You know I always agree with Dutch… But I don’t know about Micah. Why?”

“I kicked him from my gang after a week because he had an issue with my authority. But also because he would always come back with stuff for the camp that was suspicious. I didn’t like the idea he might be killing folk. Just keep an eye on him. Especially since you have Women and Jack in camp.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Oh, also, I’ll be moving camp down near tall trees while I do a job. In case y'all need me to steal a score from ya again.” I wink jokingly as he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves me off as I ride down the road and out of Valentine towards camp.

____________

As I stopped in camp Cripps sighed and tried to help with Irish. I stopped him and smiled. “I got this.” 

I pushed Irish off of Willa making him fall into the mud from the overflow. Irish yelps and sits up looking around scared. “What the hell was that?” 

“You dumbass. Cripps, grab me a bucket of water.”

“Uh… Josie?”

“You heard me.” Cripps sighs and walks away. Irish and I continue to stare each other down until he returns a minute later. 

I take the bucket and pour all the water over Irish who cringes in disgust. “How dare you? I have been goin’ four weeks strong without baitin’...” He’s cut off from me chucking the bucket at him.

“Go wash and sober up. The camp is gonna move temporarily.”

Both Irish and Cripps look at me with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. “Are you wanted?” Cripps asks.

“No. I have some work to do down in New Austin and I’d rather bring you all with me. We aren’t doing anything right now anyway.” I think for a moment, “We can set up near that big ranch down there. Mc… something.” 

Cripps sighs but starts getting camp taken down. Irish is still sitting with the bucket in his hands. “But.. that one new lady is gone..”

“Jen has been in the gang longer than you. And knowing her, she’ll find us.”

Irish grumbles on the floor a bit longer before getting up and going to his work to help us move. 

____________

The move was easier than I had expected. Next thing I knew we were set up northeast of the big ranch. Irish and Yakira were a great help for once and with their help, we were able to be done by nightfall. 

“I’m going to ride to Tumbleweed, see if I can find who I’m looking for.” I walk out of my tent in my white button-up tucked into me black tight pants and Pedro’s worn Gambler hat and brown leather coat with sheep wool on the collar. Sometimes I swear I can still smell his cologne.

“I would feel better if you take someone with you,” Cripps says, looking up from his work.

“I don’t really need those two to go. They are probably exhausted.”

“Well, take someone.”

I sigh and look around the camp. I see Jen’s Shire named Thena and smile, “I’ll take Jen.” 

Jen peaks her head out from behind the wagon and frowns. “What?”

“Let’s go cause trouble.” I smile.

She thinks for a moment before sighing, “Fine.” 

Cripps sighs, “At least I know she’ll have your back.”

We hopped on our horses and started for the small town in search of this Marshall. Jen is usually the quiet type. Despite no accent, she’s from France. Her Dark hair is always braided behind her back. She towers over me and like most of the gang is older than me. I wanna be tough like her one day. But I know I have a long way to go.

I met her right after I started my gang. It was just me and Cripps until one day when I was out somewhere alone. I had been searching for a certain elk to hunt for Cripps when A grizzly found me instead. I had thought I was going to be gutted right then and there but at the last moment there was a shot and the bear dropped on top of me. 

When the bear was dragged off of me that’s when I met Jen. She didn’t say hi when she met me she immediately scolded me for not looking at my surroundings. I call her my best friend, but I’m pretty sure she’s just worried I’ll get myself killed. She’s been with the gang ever since. As I thought back to how we met I accidentally stared at her which got me a “The fuck you do now?”

I blinked and shook myself out of it. “Oh, sorry. I was thinking about the day we met.” 

“Yes, the day you were almost killed by a bear.”

I chuckled, “Yeah, that.”

“It’s very strange to me that you were once married and a mother.”

“Well I’m still a mother, and my late husband and I were only married for maybe eleven months before he was killed. I know marrying at 17 probably isn’t the best idea in the world. But at the time it seemed right. We both wanted to get out of Del Lobo and we thought, why not together?” I looked down and petted Willa.

“I’m sorry if I made you sad.” I hear her mumble.

“You didn’t. It’s been almost two years. I’m 19 and very mature.”

Jen rolled her eyes. “No, I can guarantee you are still an immature, short, brat.”

We stopped our horses out said of Tumbleweed as I looked at her, “You just like insulting me sometimes.”

She shrugs and smirks at me hopping off of Thena. We both walk under the beating sun into the dusty town. There are about two clumps of small rectangle buildings and then the big saloon in the corner. A butcher stand is set up in the middle town where a butcher is chopping on a giant piece of meat. I walk up to him with some fake confidence and smile. “Hello sir, I’m looking for a Marshal Tom Davies?”

“I don’t know none of that. Might wanna ask the Sheriff.” He points his thumb behind him at a standalone building with the word ‘Jail’ written on it. 

“Thank you, sir.” I smile and walk over with Jen behind me.

“You almost looked actually confident that time.” She jokes on the way.

“Har har.” I roll my eyes.

I open the door to the building and here a man yelling. “Please! You’ve got to help me.” The man begged.

“I can’t help you, mister. It’s way outta my jurisdiction. My job is to stop folks from getting shot on these streets, you know that.” The sheriff replies. I stop a moment in a happy shock of seeing that the sheriff isn’t a grumpy old white man.

“But… but she’s my wife.” The old man says again, “She’s my goddamn wife. They’ll do terrible things to her, you’ve got to help me.” 

The sheriff eyes Jen and I and gestures to us, “Well maybe these two can help you.”

“Oh, sorry I’m just looking for…” I begin to say before I’m cut off.

“What can these two girls do?”

“They got guns and don’t have a badge so they can probably do more than me or you.” The sheriff jokes. “Besides, why not? I’m assuming they are bounty hunters.”

I glance at Jen before we both nod. “You’ll help?” The old man asks. “I’ll pay… handsomely.” 

“Uh… sure, why not.” I give in.

“Thank you. Allison is a wonderful girl. Quite a bit younger than me, you’ll see. But better that way for wives I’ve found.” Jen and I both look at him unimpressed. “Anyway, outlaws took her I believe. Towards that way.” He points out the door as he opens it. 

“Alright, we’ll go have a look. But first… Sheriff..”

“Freeman.” SHeriff Freeman answers.

“Yes, I’m looking for a Marshal Tom Davies?”

“He is in another town on business. He usually comes threw town tomorrow. But for now, help this man out.”

__________

“I hope that man’s wife isn’t as creepy as he was,” I say to Jen as we near a tiny pueblo styled ranch. “There are so many men here for one girl.”

We hop off our horses and walk up to the guard. “Get outta here!” He yells.

“You guys kidnap a girl named Allison?”

The reply I got was a shotgun fired in the direction of my head. Only Jen pulled me out of the way and shot him with her pistol. Probably proving my theory of why she sticks around. I pull out my repeater and get to work while Jen uses both her pistols. We shoot our way through at least 30 men before we are at the doors to the small farmhouse. 

“Hello? Is someone kidnapped in here?” I say as I open the door with my sawed-off out. 

“He sent you didn’t he? He sent you. Well, I’m not going back to him. I can’t” The blond lady says as she hides behind a man with orange hair the goes to his shoulders with matching orange facial hair.

“We’re in love.” He says to us as he holds a hand up. “Leave us be. I’ll give you all we have. It ain’t much but it’s somethin’.” He walks forward and I’m able to see his kind face better and his blue eyes begging Jen and me. “Help us escape. Please.”

“I’m not going back,” Allison says pacing the floor. “Cliff, you swore. You swore I wouldn’t have to go back.”

“They’ll have to kill me first,” he says to her calmingly. “Come on ladies, have a heart.”

I sigh and put my gun back in its holster. I can hear Jen follow suit. “We better hurry then.”

“Oh, thank you.” Allison cries.

“Let’s go. There is a carriage and money outside.” Cliff grabs her hand and leads her out.

“He would have sent men to follow you. They’ll know you’re trying to help us.”

“Well, then we better be quick,” I say as I hurry after them. “I’ll ride with them on the wagon, Jen, follow on the horse just in case.”

“Oh god, it’s a massacre,” Allison says, glancing at all the bodies. I pretend to not pay attention. “This is all my fault, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t think about that now.” Cliff urges her. “They knew what they was gettin’ into.”

We see a handful of men riding over the hill towards us with their guns out, “That’s my husband. Sending killers after killers.” Allison says in anger.

“I ain’t too sure what you saw in the man.” Cliff jokes.

“Very amusing.” She hums back. 

We rode past Tumbleweed and up to the train tracks where a train was passing by. “Come on. We gotta get around this train!” Cliff yells.

I pull out my repeater and start taking out as many men as I’m able while Jen gets the others. Cliff is able to make it around the train and we are able to get away and shoot down the rest of the men chasing us.

Cliff stops the cart and groans, “How many more of them will we have to kill.” He climbs into the back of the wagon and pulls out money.

“He won’t stop. He’ll keep saying you kidnapped me and soon some other sucker will come and kill us.” Allison sighs.

“No.” Cliff turns on his heels and takes the woman’s hands. “We’ll go… somewhere hot. Like Columbia, or Australia.” 

He hops off the wagon and stands before Jen and I. “Here. Thank you.” He says handing me the small wad of cash. “Tell him we drowned, or got hit by a train.”

“Tell him to go hang himself,” Allison yells to us as Cliff climbs up to the wagon. “Tell him to leave us alone.” She takes her loves hand and smiles at him, “Cliff, isn’t all so romantic?”

He smiles at her before yanking the reigns and making the wagon move.

Jen rolls her eyes at them as I hand her share over. She looks at it and walks to Thena without taking it.

“Wait, Jen…”

“Keep it. You’re saving for the boy’s birthday aren’t you?” She gives me a warm smile. 

“Thank you,” I say softly. I put the money in my saddlebag and climb onto Willa. “Let’s go rent a room at that saloon. We can corner the Marshal tomorrow.” She nods and we ride off down the desert.

_____________

I clutched my mother’s letter tightly as I sat in front of the Blackwater dock. I had just gotten off of the boat from Saint Denise where I had come in on the train from New Mexico. The rain fell hard from the sky and I was barely able to fit under the small overhang by the town sign as I tried to figure out where to go. The town wasn’t quite as populated as Saint Denise or Santa Fe but there was still a good amount of residence. There seemed to be a camp towards the edges of town that looked pretty crowded as well. I wondered if they were a gang or more like a family. They seemed happy and kept to themselves. Even in the rain they laughed and chatted with one another. 

Thunder rolled across the sky suddenly making me lookup. I sighed tugged Pedro’s coat on a little tighter.

“Not a fan of thunder?” A gruff voice with a western accent asked from my left. I spun my head to face him quickly and began to reach for my pistol which he noticed. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He held up to gloved hands.

 He was a tall broad man. He had blue-green eyes and sandy-colored hair. His cheeks and chin were covered by some scruff with a small scar on his chin. He wore a thick blue coat and funny enough, had on basically the same hat I wear that belonged to Pedro. “I didn’t mean to scare ya.” He grinned.

“You… didn’t. I was just thrown off.” I say before looking back at the map.

“You’re carrying a lot of guns.” He gestures to the bolt action rifle and pump-action shotgun on my back. Along with my pistol and sawed-off in my gun belt. I smile since he might even see the more guns I have on Willa. “You steal ‘em?” He smirks.

“I earned these if you must know.”

“How old are you?” He leans on the map board and crosses his arms. Droplets roll off the edge of his hat.

“I’m almost 18,” I say proudly. “I’ve come to start a gang.”

He huffs a laugh. “18 and already starting a gang, huh?”

“Wouldn’t be my first one.”

He gets serious and looks at me. “What?”

“I was raised in a gang. I’ve returned to kill them.” Why was I so openly telling my plan to this guy? Maybe it was his kind-looking eyes. Or the way he really is listening to me. 

“What they do to ya?” He asks in a sincere tone.

“They killed my husband and my father.” I look down at my shoes. 

“Bastards.” He huffs. “Hope it ain’t my gang.” He says trying to lighten the mood.

“You’re Del Lobo?” I ask.

His eyes get a bit wide at the name. “Wait a second. You want to take out Del Lobo? Alone?”

“Of course not alone. That’s why I’m going to make a gang. A gang of the strongest people to help me on my quest.” 

The man smiles at my enthusiasm. “Well, ya got spirit. People will follow that.” He stands up straight and puts a hand out towards me. “Name’s Arthur Morgan.”

I grin and shake his hand, “Josephine Espinosa. But just call me Josie, white people tend to pronounce my full name wrong.”

He laughs as our hands shake for a bit too long. “Great to meet you Josie.”

[phagechildon]

The Greater Good - Chapter 9

It’s been so long since I’ve updated due to personal issues, but I’m finally able to write Hijack again! And due to the long hiatus, this chapter is especially long sitting at around 19,422 words! I know the fandom’s dead but they’re so fun to write! I highly recommend reading on AO3 for a better experience since Tumblr refuses to copy anything that I italicized or bold -_- I didn’t have anyone else edit this for me due to the length and everyone being busy, so I’m sorry for the mistakes! READ ON AO3 - Rated M for Mature due to violence, death, dark and sexual themes

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Fandom: Hijack/Frostcup Story Summary: Jack, unable to handle the dark life he’s living, is now trying to redeem himself by using his skills and demigod powers to protect the innocent. Though he gets more than he bargained for when he meets Hiccup, who unknowingly holds the very fate of the world in his hands.

Last Chapter recap since it’s been a while:  With Zootopia overran by Nightmares and half of them being sold into slavery, Hiccup volunteers himself to be captured in order to free the other prisoners. In the meantime, Jack confronts the Nightmares who are attacking the city, only to realize everything is going according to Pitch's plan - a plan to get Hiccup. Quickly resolving the issue, he flys towards the prisoner camp, hoping he isn't too late. However he's unaware that not only are the Nightmares there to capture Hiccup, but so is Callaghan's Army and the Outcasts. Everything's a chaotic mess and poor Hiccup just wants a break.

TW: Mentions of rape and sexual harassment is mentioned throughout this chapter. It gets sorta but not too bad at the part where I added *** . It stops when you see *** again. I added a very brief explanation of what happened at the end in case you want to skip it!

----

“Shit-” Jack cursed as he hovered over the burning prisoner camp, the smoke so severe he was forced to use one of his sleeves to cover his mouth. The fire was so intense he couldn’t even see past the smoke and flames. He prayed Hiccup wasn’t down there, but he didn’t dare take a chance. He had to at least take a quick glance around.

Toothless hopped off his shoulder and gave him an agreeing nod. “I’ll go left you go right. We’ll meet on the other side.” Immediately the dragon dove down, Jack following suit. Despite how exhausted he was, he formed a thin yet durable layer of ice around his skin. It only gave him at least three minutes before he’d have to take a brief break, but it was better than nothing.

“Hiccup!!” He called as he landed, his eyes widening as he saw the Mother’s Arms soldiers laying in pools of their own blood. Hiccup wouldn’t resort to such bloodshed, and those wounds weren’t caused by dragons either. The cuts were clearly made by swords. What happened here?

Running further in, his eyes caught sight of men adorning different uniforms. “Callaghan’s army?” He mumbled, even more confused than before. They practically disbanded that army. The fact the few survivors were even here meant they probably tracked them all the way from the Hamada Village. But if Pitch made good on his threat, then that meant the Mother’s Arms, Callaghan’s Army, and the Nightmares were all in the camp with Hiccup as their collective target. He knew Hiccup can handle himself, he trusted him, but against three different armies?

“Hiccup!!” He cried out again just as he passed a Nightmare body, his fearful theory being proven true.

This was his fault. He should’ve realized the string of odd coincidences and connected the dots sooner. This was definitely something only Pitch was capable of. If something happened to Hiccup, he’d never forgive himself.

A rattling cage pulled him out of his thoughts as he looked around for the origin. “Hiccup?!” He instinctively called as he ran faster in the direction of the noise. Of course it was in the area most of the smoke was coming from.

The closer he got the more his eyes burned until he felt himself kick something metal.

Looking down, he saw a medium sized bird cage with a barely conscious chameleon in it.

Strange, he didn’t know Mother Gothel liked pets.

Very gently he picked the cage up and opened it. The small reptile looked at him weakly yet thankfully as it crawled onto Jack’s hand.

“I’ll get you out of here little guy,” he reassured as he dropped the cage, hearing it clank against something soft. Glancing down he saw the body of a rather high ranking Nightmare on the ground judging by the clothes, and beside him drag marks. There was something odd about the drag marks though. He wasn’t sure if he was looking too into it, but he could swear the left side leg was more square than the other, meaning the person who was dragged away could be Hiccup. It was definitely worth checking out.

Jumping up he rose above the smoke, seeing Toothless doing the same. “Over here!” Jack called, the dragon turning and flying towards him. “He was taken, but there’s tracks leading in this direction-” he pointed north. “Let’s get a Terrible Terror.”

----

His body still felt heavy as he slowly became aware of the rattling ground that made his teeth clank together. For a moment, he thought he’d heard Jack’s contagious laughter and soothing hum. Unfortunately he must've been half asleep because all he heard now was the booming laughter of someone he didn’t know.

“To think we’d have a princess to collect a bounty for too - this is our lucky day!”

A princess? Who were they talking about?

“Since she’s got some weird powers, we’ll force them to give us more reward money for our troubles,” Savage said, memories of earlier coming back at once. In an instant he paled, desperately wanting to open his eyes to confirm the horror for himself. His body was heavy though, so, so heavy, not even his eyelids would open. Whatever the Nightmares did to him was still severely affecting him, to the point where he felt his consciousness starting to fade again. This wasn’t like the poison, this was something inherently different. Perhaps it was the spell that made him limb as a doll? Whatever it was, he absolutely hated it.

A small noise rumbled from the back of his throat, but it wasn't audible to others. It was swallowed by a gag in his mouth. Of course they’d gag him, they knew he could call for help.

“Hiccup?” Rapunzel’s voice came over softly. The dragon whisperer didn’t realize how worried he was for her until he heard her voice as he relaxed just a tiny bit. He tried to respond, but all that came out was another soft groan. Oh how he just wanted to scream in frustration.

“You’re hurt - I’ll heal you as soon as I can,” she gently reassured, her voice so soothing he tried to solely concentrate on her. It made being paralyzed slightly more bearable. “They keep talking about hearing lots of horses gaining up on us. If it’s another army, we can use the chaos to escape.”

Escape? He wondered if she was able to get out of her ropes. Considering she was a woman and these were Alvin’s men, they probably didn’t take her seriously.

“I’d take your gag off, but they keep making sure it’s still on, sorry,” she apologized, to which Hiccup merely shook his head, the statement confirming his theory. Maybe the situation wasn’t as hopeless as he thought. Even now he could hear the thundering thuds of more horses gaining on them, making him take a deep breath through his nose.

He couldn’t move, but he wouldn’t be useless.

It felt like an eternity as they waited for something to happen. “Incoming from behind! Get the prisoners out of here!” Savage commanded. “Make sure that gag stays on the boy!”

“Yes sir!” Someone answered as the wagon moved even faster than before. He groaned as he felt his body rattle even harder against the wood, causing even further discomfort.

He still couldn’t move, still couldn’t speak.

“I got this,” Rapunzel said, only making Hiccup feel worse. If something happened and she needed backup - shit. He had to do something.

He heard the ruckus, heard the man gasp in shock, and heard her wrecking havoc. The wagon swayed left and right. He heard her gasp in pain, then rebuttal. Part of him started praying Jack and Toothless would show up with a Terrible Terror to save them - to save Rapunzel.

He heard the sound of horse’s hooves catching up from behind them, heard arrows being notched, Rapunzel cry out in horrific pain -

“Stop!” He cried out behind the gag as he sat up, ignoring the fact he couldn’t even move a few moments ago. His eyes opened and saw red leaving the blond’s shoulder where an arrow was sticking out of it as she continued holding the horse’s reins, trying to prevent them from crashing.

There were four on horseback catching up to them, getting more arrows ready, but Hiccup was faster. He dropped to the ground and rubbed his face against the side of the wagon, the gag being pulled down.

It was all a blur. He let loose a dragon noise, he couldn’t even remember which one.

The enemy let their arrows soar, but they never pierced. Instead they uselessly fell to the ground as Hiccup turned, seeing the riders tossed from his seats as the horses made a mad dash in the opposite direction. He squinted his eyes, trying to see what kind of dragon he summoned only to realize why he couldn’t see anything.

He summoned Changelings, and they were both wild and unpredictable.

His eyes met with Rapuzenl’s weak ones as he desperately shot up, his hand wrapping around the arrow and pulling it out of her shoulder just as the wagon tipped over -

And his world went black once again.

----

The Terrible Terror was struggling, and Jack was trying his best to stay patient. The dragon was obviously trying its best as he caught a few words such as ‘this way’ and ‘shit, why.’ Of course Hiccup taught him some of the curse words, dragons apparently loved using them just like humans.

“There might be a lot of people with them, making his scent harder to make out,” he said as his eyes grew heavy again, threatening to close. Toothless said something, but all he could frustratingly make out was ‘It’s-- if they know--- tracking him,’ which was no help since he couldn’t even make out what he meant.

Toothless groaned himself, knowing the theory may help Jack come up with something useful. They were using a lock of Hiccup’s hair, one of the most powerful forms of tracking material you can use aside from a fingernail yet this Terrible Terror was having a hard time pinning his location, which meant whoever had Hiccup was purposefully covering his scent. Callaghan’s army didn’t seem smart enough to do such a thing and the Nightmares didn’t even know about dragons. The only ones knowledgeable enough would be enemies of Berk itself.

Guess it didn’t matter if Jack was aware of this. This half human would stop at nothing to secure Hiccup, and that was just fine with Toothless.

However, he might have to force the demigod to take a break. He was looking even paler than usual; there was hardly any color left in his face. The stupid human hadn’t rest despite dispelling so much energy during the Nightmare attack on the city.

The sound of clinking metal made Jack tiredly look down, spotting a man and women surrounded by six people from the Nightmares. As worried as he was for Hiccup, he couldn’t ignore people in need.

Cursing under his breath, he instructed the Terrible Terror to stop as he dropped out of the sky. The two humans saw him at the corner of their eyes and gasped as he slammed into the ground, ice shooting out and hitting two of the men. Slowly he got to his feet, his staff forming in his hands as the little chameleon from earlier peeked out of his shoulder, shivering as Jack’s body heat left him.

“Stall me all you want Pitch, but I’ll save him,” he hissed, using the wind to quickly zip between the enemies and tap their chests with his staff. All at once they all fell, their hearts and lungs frozen over.

Merciless, but he was in no mood to think about it. Pitch was trying to take the one person who made him feel human and wanted for the first time in a long time. Of course he was in a fowl mood.

“Wow, where were you like, six minutes ago?” The brown haired man with a goatee laughed as he put his sword away. Jack blearingly looked over at him, cursing under his breath as his vision started going in and out. The women behind him with short black hair kept her sword out in alert, something he could respect.

“You guys… alright?” He took a step forward, the world moving around him before fading to black.

----

The floor was moving - it was galloping. His chest and ribs ached, his stomach unsettled. If he had eaten recently he probably would’ve thrown it up. Trying to adjust his position, he found, once again, he was tied up. This time he felt ropes around his arms and foot, a single rope connecting them so he couldn’t fall off the horse without getting trampled.

Perfect, just perfect. Whoever had him now didn’t seem to care about his safety much.

“Slow down, she’s starting to slip again,” he heard a man say. On queue he felt the horse slowing down, the decrease in speed only seeming to make the pain in his chest worse. “Let’s stop and change her bandages, Corona won’t pay for a dead princess.”

Bandages? Did that mean Rapunzel was okay?

The horses came to a stop. He felt someone shift the saddle he was draped against before someone landed somewhat lightly on the ground, confirming one thing. These weren’t the Outcasts. Their speech wasn’t harsh and they didn’t wear heavy armor, meaning they were probably captured by Callaghan’s army. Better than the Nightmares at least.

“What about the Dragon Conqueror?” Hiccup flinched. He hated that nickname.

“Cut him down, but don’t let him out of your sight. He should be waking up soon and we can’t risk him calling for help.”

“Uh… who would he even call out for?” He heard another ask as he too got off his horse.

“Who do you think called for those Changelings back there, hm? Those brutes?”

“Oh… guess you’re right.” The man replied. “I’ll do it then.” He heard someone approach him and tighten the gag around his mouth, making him aware of the rough cloth that was also shoved into his mouth to help prevent any kind of sound from leaving him at all. They were being thorough, unfortunately for him. Luckily for him, they weren’t too bright, he just had to wait for the right moment.

The middle rope was severed, allowing his numb arms and leg to finally separate. Like a rag doll the man pulled him off the horse, not caring as Hiccup’s legs hit the ground hard. Swallowing his pained groan, he felt the man drag him at least six paces away before dropping him.

“H-he’s hurt,” Rapunzel’s sweet voice rang, easing the dragon whisperer’s heart a bit. “Please… be gentle.”

“I’d worry more about yourself,” he heard a man snicker darkly, making Hiccup's eyebrows burrow in anger. “After all, we still have time before we get to Corona, and these nights get awfully cold.”

Oh hell no. No one spoke to someone like that and got away with it. Hesitantly he opened his eyes slightly, realizing he wasn’t blindfolded. They were in a forest of sorts with no river nearby, but that was fine. Gazing around camp, he saw around six men, all of which were watching what seemed to be the leader trying to intimidate Rapunzel who was just giving him death glares. The poor guy had no clue she could probably take half of them at once with her hair alone, but their diverted attention only made this easier.

His body still felt oddly heavy, but nothing compared to earlier. Wiggling his fingers, he pressed them to the dirt hoping to find something sharp to use.

“It’s futile,” he heard a voice say, making him freeze immediately. “Whether you get out of those bonds or not, you’re just gonna get captured again.” This voice… didn’t belong to one of Callaghan’s men. The sheer tone alone made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, unnerving him. This cold empty despair - could it really be someone from the Nightmares?

“Looks like you are smart after all,” the voice chuckled, but he heard no footsteps and saw no one. “I’d save your strength, you’re going to need it where you’re going.”

The response only egged him on, wanting to prove the voice wrong. It must be part of the stupid shadow that attached itself to him, he realized as he searched with his fingers more until they brushed something smooth and cold like metal. The quality didn’t feel the greatest, but the fact he found metal was so astounding he decided not to question it as he maneuvered it between his fingers a bit, making it press against the ropes.

He looked over at the men, seeing them getting closer to Rapunzel who only looked more agitated than before - so did the men. She probably said something to upset them, he realized.

He had to hurry.

A cramp coursed through his hand, nearly making him drop the metal. Cursing under his breath he worked past it as Rapunzel’s and his eyes met. Somehow he knew she was saying it was time to go and got ready to sit up in an attempt to help. He had no clue what she had in mind and hoped she had some sort of plan.

“Once I start, I can’t stop. If you touch, it’s your own fault,” she seethed in warning. The men only laughed as they came forward, making her close her eyes. “Wither and decay-” her eyes snapped open, the entirety of her eyes turning completely black. All the light seemed to be sucked away in the area as the horses immediately ran away, making the men nervously go silent. “End this destiny-” her long beautiful golden hair started wilting to black, the ropes around her wrists and legs dissolving into nothing. The grass and vegetation around her even started to wilt before dying within the matter of seconds. “Break these earthly chains, and set the spirit free.”

“Wh-what?!” The men gasped as they took a step back seeing the dying grass getting closer to them. “T-the hell is this?!”

“Set the spirit free.”

The sight was horrifying, but only urged him to work even faster. By the time she started saying it again he felt the rope budge and quickly pulled his wrists free. Knowing that probably made a sound he quickly sat up and pulled the rope off his his good leg, allowing the rest to dangle for now as the men turned.

“Shit, get him!”

Seeing all six men turn their attention to him, Hiccup quickly pulled the gag off and coughed out the second half. Tossing it, he hit the closest man in the face before he got up on his good leg. None of them came at him with swords, meaning they wanted him alive.

Why didn’t that make him feel any better about their situation?

One made a grab for him, to which he quickly side stepped and pushed the off balanced man to the ground. The attack made Rapunzel gasp as she said the incantation even louder, a horrible crunching noise making them all look to the ground as vines started rising out of the ground, their lush green color turning ashen black.

The men all stopped their attack as their faces paled, seeing the looming dark shadow wash over where they were standing.

With sharp gasps of fear they ran, forgetting about Hiccup and their gear. Honestly the dragon whisperer was just as nervous as he looked up to Rapunzel, feeling as if the soles of his shoes were getting thinner.

“Rapunzel?” He hesitantly called out. She finished the verse only to instantly collapse. The pure black strands slowly became golden again as she groaned. Instantly he hopped over, kneeling over her, afraid to touch her. “Rapunzel, are you okay?”

She opened her eyes a bit, seemingly drained. “Yeah… sorry about that,” she whispered. Very carefully Hiccup helped her sit up, that dark aura gone. He glanced at her shoulder wound, seeing the bandages turn a bit pink. The fall probably opened it again.

He reached forward, but stopped, recalling the disgusting things those pigs were saying. “Your wound-” the blond looked down, seeing the pink and groaned.

“I… can heal it, just, give me a minute,” she breathed, to which he nodded, respecting her space. For now he needed to find something to make a temporary prosthetic out of. Luckily one of them left their bag. Rummaging through it, he found some rope, bandages, and a knife, all of which were pretty useful.

“Maybe this means our luck’s starting to turn around.”

It took a few minutes, but he managed to make a prosthetic out of a rather chunky piece of wood and the other materials he found. In the meantime Rapunzel healed her wound and even healed a few of Hiccup’s.

“So… your hair,” Hiccup started as the glow left the golden strands. “Is there a story behind it?” Rapunzel couldn’t help but smile a bit nervously as she avoided eye contact, meaning it probably wasn’t a happy memory. “You don’t have to - I get it,” the dragon whisperer quickly stammered. “I just think it’s cool, even the darker side of it.”

The blond looked up at him in shock, which made Hiccup look away uneasily. Was that something weird to say? He wasn’t good at talking to normal people it seemed. Then again she wasn’t exactly normal. “I-I just think having both restoration and destruction seems very balanced and probably hard to maintain yet you seem to do a pretty good job-” Rapunzel’s laugh was his queue to shut up, more than thankful she put him out of his awkward misery.

“You’re the first person to call that side of me cool,” she said, obviously amused. The shyness from earlier seemed to disappear as she stood, her shoulder completely healed.

Thank goodness.

“I think it is,” Hiccup said again, this time more confidently as he sat back down and undid the makeshift prosthetic, folding the cloth up a bit more in hopes of making it slightly more comfortable before they started walking. “Sure it destroys things, and can probably severely hurt someone, but that power can sometimes be more of a blessing than healing.” He glanced up as Rapunzel rose a confused eyebrow, thankfully not seeming offended, so he continued. “Just look what you did for us. Healing wouldn’t have driven those men away - trust me, I know how stubborn they are,” he said, sounding annoyed and exhausted, which only made Rapunzel giggle again. “And if you’re ever trapped you can use that to literally ‘escape your earthly chains,’ so long as you’re the only one there.”

The princess gently tucked some hair behind her ear as she shifted her gaze to the ground, seeming to agree. “Yeah… I have used it for some instances similar to that. I was even able to save one of my friend’s dad. But you,” she said, her curious eyes moving back to him, excitement seeming to gleam off her. “You called those Changelings, didn’t you? The soldiers from both camps made it law to keep you gagged!” This time Hiccup’s demeanor changed, knowing there was no hiding it from her.

Was it really okay for him to be out here and not on Berk where he could keep the dragon’s secrets safe? More and more people were learning about the connection humans could have with dragons. Part of him couldn’t be happier as it was always his dream to see the two living in harmony. Yet the rational part of him knew that was also incredibly dangerous. Even if he felt like a prisoner on Berk, maybe… maybe it was for the best.

“Hiccup?” Rapunzel asked, snapping him back into reality. She was in front of him now, looking really concerned. He could trust her, he knew that as an absolute certainty. Yet as he opened his mouth, something stopped him - a chilling realization.

Someone was speaking to him earlier, someone from the Nightmares.

“Shhh,” he quickly hushed, going on full alert. Sensing his uneasiness, she grabbed a handful of hair and cautiously looked around as well. “Someone was talking to me earlier, someone I couldn’t see.”

“What? Who?” She gasped, confused.

“Someone from the Nightmares,” he glowered, hearing approaching hooves from nearly every direction.

Shit - they wasted too much time gathering themselves.

As much as he hated to rely on dragons he didn’t know how to fully train, Changelings were their only chance to ‘disappear’ for a while. Letting out a changeling call, he grabbed Rapunzel’s wrist and ran in the only direction he couldn’t really hear a horse approaching. Of course that didn’t mean anything.

“I know it’s probably hard to trust someone you just met, but if we want to avoid being captured again , you have to do what I say.”

Cold - it was starting to get so, so cold.

Shit. Were they Nightmare soldiers? If so, he couldn’t let them snuff out her light. In fact, he refused to let that happen.

Reaching around his neck, he pulled the ticking thing necklace off and held it out to her. “Here, take this-” he said, watching her grab it with a confused look. “Keep it safely around your neck. All you have to do is imagine someone or a place you want to see, and it’ll guide you there. If we get separated, I want you to use that to get home.”

Her head shot up after processing the words, looking hurt yet determined. “What? Separated? I’m not going to leave you - we’re gonna get through this together!”

But she had no clue what they were up against.

Something pulled the cloth free that was wedged between his limb and the half assed clump of wood on the makeshift prosthetic, making him groan in immense discomfort.

The horses hooves grew even closer, the sound of men commanding them to go even faster now audible.

“I’ll be okay, I have someone coming for me, remember?” He said, taking a deep breath he pictured Jack with one of his signature stupid grins as he felt something start tugging on the rope that bound the lump of wood to his limp. “If I can’t get out of this mess myself, I know he’ll save me. I believe in him.”

The trees, he could hear the leaves shake and tremble as something swooped over them, nearing them from behind. “Protect her, I beg of you!” He cried in dragonese. With all his strength, he stopped running and swung Rapunzel forward. With a cry she catapulted forward, losing her footing before she just - vanished. The trees screamed in agony as something pulled upward, barely missing them.

For just a moment Hiccup let out a choked laugh, not believing that worked as he turned, feeling the rope pulled free.

He couldn’t move, and that was okay.

As much as he wanted to disappear with Rapunzel, he had a feeling that wouldn't be wise. What happened back at the Mother’s Arms Camp, whatever that Nightmare did to him, he felt it somehow bound a Nightmare to him. If he himself accepted help from a dragon, the Nightmares would know, and that was something he couldn't risk.

“Okay, if that’s how you wanna play,” he grumbled as he quickly reached down and picked up the rope, retying it. The horses slowly came to a stop all around him as he stood back up, grabbing a rather strong stick that was at his feet. His breath caught in his throat as the soldiers weren’t wearing Nightmare robes, no, these were uniforms he’s never seen before. The base color was black with everything outlined blue - even the helmets. Red stripes were coming up from the chest plate, boots, and even the shoulder blades.

One of them with long black hair made their horse take a step forward, his posture straightening into one of authority. “You’re a hard one to get a hold of, but nonetheless, you are now property of Claude Frollo of the Josas Kingdom.”

Hiccup couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow as he let out a small laugh. “Property? Sorry, I’m no one’s property.”

The man’s glassy gray eyes narrowed, unamused. “You were stripped of your freedom when the Mother’s Arms healed then sold you. You are nothing but a tool and object in which our King will give you purpose.” Hiccup’s eyes widened, recalling something Mother Gothel said to him:

“Selling you to the Nightmares means you won’t have your free will for long, and selling you to Callaghan’s army means they’ll slaughter you considering the way they were talking. The other group of people are barbaric ruffians,” she tisked, her eyes narrowing. “I rarely like to work with their kind. However, I could sell you to the sex-crazed Warlord who’s taken a liking to your description, you’d at least stay alive with him.” The dragon whisperer couldn’t help but groan, feeling disgusted. These must be men who worked for that sex crazed warlord she mentioned. As horrifying as the revelation is, that meant that they really did not have a kingdom, and this man wasn’t really a King.

He could still get out of this.

“I have my own purpose in life, and it’s not to bemuse your master,” he growled as he swung the stick around, picking up momentum and getting in a fighting stance.

Eight armed soldiers against a cursed one legged viking with a stick for self defense - there’s been worse odds.

“Don’t struggle, our Lord prefers his toys undamaged.” The leader looked up to where Rapunzel disappeared, his eyes narrowing. “Where’d the girl go?”

So they were interested in her too - thank gods he got her out of here. “I donno, her hair starting glowing again and she just vanished.” He simply shrugged.

The man frowned more, seeming annoyed. “Don’t worry, our Lord has a way of making people talk. Now, fetch.”

The other men, still on their horses, moved forward, making him curse. One of them was getting a net, another was loading a dart in some kind of paper looking straw.

First thing first, he had to get rid of the horses. If there was one dragon call he knew that scared animals on land, it was the call of a dragon that burrowed deep into the ground. Hopefully there weren’t any nearby that could hear him. According to his observations so far, there were none.

Hopefully.

Taking a deep breath, he let it loose. In an instant the horses bucked in fright, the net falling from the man’s hands along with the dart in the others as the horses all ran. Some of the riders stayed on, four fell on their backs.

Goodie, the numbers were literally halved. Without wasting a beat, he leaped forward and kicked the helmet off the soldier nearest to him. Dazed, the soldier did nothing as he smacked him hard on the side of the face, knocking him out cold. A crunch from the stick made him bite his bottom lip nervously.

Three more to go - he could do this as long as the Nightmare left his prosthetic alone.

Picking up a few rocks, he threw one at a soldier near him, hitting the helmet hard. The man gasped as he quickly took it off, trying to silence the horrible ringing that started giving him horrible tinnitus. Swinging the staff around to gain momentum, he swiped it under the man’s legs, making the man fall right back on his back. A blur of motion to his right made him gasp as he swung up, deflecting the man’s staff from hitting him as he side kicked the other man in the head, hoping it knocked him out. He didn’t have time to check as he parried another strike that tried to trip him, slamming his own stick into the other man’s knees. With a yelp he fell to one knee, giving Hiccup an opportunity to hit him in the jugular.

With a choked gasp the man fell back, the wound bleeding a bit. He wasn’t dead, just unconscious thankfully as he picked up the staff the soldier was wielding and growled, finding it rather heavy. Realizing it would only slow him down, he dropped it and stared at the last man, the leader of the group, glowering at his laughing face.

“Who would’ve thought a defected tool like you had this much fight in them,” he smirked, obviously finding Hiccup’s offended face amusing.

“I’m resourceful, not defective,” Hiccup barked back, twirling the stick to gain some momentum. A crack made him wince slightly as he saw the first few inches cave, hanging onto the rest of the stick by a few strands. The man only seemed to chuckle at the image, obviously amused.

“Even your resourcefulness is defective, it would seem,” he said as he stood up straight, no longer in a fighting stance. It only angered Hiccup more. “Maybe he’ll make you a more useful tool after I give him the retrieval report.”

The dragon whisperer opened his mouth just as he felt something prick the back of his neck. Cursing under his breath he glanced behind him, seeing two men on foot with skid marks on their faces from falling from their horses a little further up. They were all glowering darkly at him. One of them still had the straw from where they shot the dart.

He still had some time.

Turning to the leader, he charged. The man merely chuckled as he took out a staff and blocked Hiccup’s swing, letting Hiccup press against him so their faces were a few inches apart. “Still fighting even though it’s hopeless?” He asked with a softening smirk. “You can feel it, can’t you? The way your head fogs over, the way your limbs start to get so heavy all you want to do is just, collapse-” he pushed heavily against Hiccup’s stick, the branch finally snapping in half. With a cry Hiccup stumbled back on his bottom, feeling the world spinning.

Shit - shit shit - not like this!

“If it’s any consolation, you’re the most challenging adversary we’ve had in a long time,” the leader said as he loomed over him. Hiccup bared his teeth as he closed his eyes and rolled forward between the man's legs. He nearly threw up, but the adrenaline kept him going.

With a surprised gasp the man turned just as Hiccup stumbled to his feet. With a loud roar of defiance, Hiccup swung one of the broken pieces of the staff against the man’s face. With a cry the man took a step back as Hiccup saw a little bit of red form on the man’s cheek as he regained his balance despite the way his eyes swam. There were three of them - no, there was only one of them, and he was rubbing the back of his hand against a rather deep scratch he made across his right left cheek.

Another prick - this time he felt it on the front of his neck as he groaned, feeling the liquid poor into him as he stumbled back like a drunkard. Shakingly he reached up and pulled the needle out, clenching it tightly in his hand with the pieces of his broken stick.

“Don’t worry defective tool, I forgive you for that,” the leader said, though he seemed less amused than before. “We’ll teach you the proper way.”

His eyes swam even more as his limbs started to shake. He didn’t want it to end here, he could handle this, he knew he could!

His good knee collapsed, forcing him to fall to one knee. Okay, maybe he couldn’t… for now at least. He wouldn't give up, he’d never give up.

‘I… believe in you, Jack,’ he mumbled as his world fell to black.

----

It’s cold, that’s the first thought that came to mind as he felt himself stir. Instantly he started to shiver, but it didn’t seem to matter. No cloth was brushing against his skin, making him blanch. He didn’t have any clothes on? And this smell - it was sickeningly sweet, it made it hard to think as his eyes slowly fluttered open. He was in a dimly lit room that oddly felt humid and smelled like weird oils. Then again, the sweet smell in the air made it hard to decipher what exactly he was smelling, let alone pinpoint where it was coming from.

Drugs, he realized after a frustrating moment. That sweet smell was probably some kind of drug that made it hard to think, let alone move.

Great. Just great.

Trying to move his arms, he groaned, feeling them numbly above him in chains. It was taking everything he had not to start coming to conclusions and panicking. If he succumbed to fear, it’d be over.

Taking a few deep shuddering breaths, he tried clearing his mind.

“They haven’t used you - yet,” he heard the same voice from earlier say, making him growl.

Oh right, with everything going on he forgot a Nightmare was attached to him. Wasn’t he lucky?

“Who are you?” He managed to slur out, hating how pathetic his voice sounded like this.

“Does that really matter?” The voice asked back. “The more important question is how are you going to get out of this mess?”

“You’re the reason I’m in it,” Hiccup barked back bitterly. “If you hadn’t touched my prosthetic-”

“You wouldn’t know the truth,” the voice finished for him, making the dragon whisperer roll his eyes.

“Oh yeah sure, what truth, hm? Enlighten me, oh messenger of dark despair,” he mocked.

The voice was silent for a moment before it hummed. “That’s a new one, I kind of like it. It fits quite well considering my message will bring you despair.”

“Oh, shocking,” Hiccup sarcastically remarked. “Try giving your message to someone who believes what you say.” Pulling on the chains, he groaned, not even sure why he tried. Metal, duh, it wouldn’t break that way. Damn the drugs messing with his usually logical brain.

“I had you captured so you could learn the truth the hard way,” the voice merely said. “Don’t worry, you aren’t in any danger. At any point in time, all you have to do is ask for help, and I’ll stop this - I’ll stop all of them.”

Hiccup’s eyebrows furrowed in suspicion, not understanding the other at all. Why would a Nightmare subject him to such a horrific situation, then claim to save him if he asked? It didn’t make any sense. “What truth are you talking about?” The dragon whisperer cautiously asked, knowing he was probably walking right into a trap.

The room grew even dimmer as the shadows started dancing along the walls. Hiccup had to squint his tainted eyesight as a figure started to hazily form. It was a tall man with gray skin and piercing yellow eyes with pitch black hair spiked upwards adorning a black robe that seemed to be made of shadows. For some reason the very sight of him made his heart beat faster in his chest as all his fears started intensifying.

What if he was already used? What if he was turned into a doll for someone else's enjoyment? What if he wasn’t strong enough and gave away all his dragon knowledge?

What if Jack gave up on him? - No, no he shut those thoughts down immediately before even more surfaced, making him glower at the shadow man infront of him. Whoever this was, they were powerful, maybe even more powerful than the Last Quarter Rank. But that would mean-

“You know what’s amusing?” The voice chimed in, cutting his thoughts off there. “Typically when someone is poisoned, I’m able to peer into their mind and form their Nightmares. But you - you’re different,” he said, the revelation slow yet horrifying. “No matter what I tried, you formed your own nightmares - nightmares I couldn’t even see. When you were conscious, I couldn’t even penetrate that thick skull of yours.”

Hiccup felt his breath catch in his throat.

He knew who this was.

“You even manage to break through my General’s influence and move when you were captured by the Mother’s Arms. Even though he was present to everyone else, you should’ve been frozen in place. Yet you weren’t.” His eyes narrowed. “Even after I had one of my men pour my influence into you, all it did was render you unconscious. Yet even in that state I couldn’t get so much as a glimpse of your dreams.” He came over to him, gently cupping his chin in his cold hand. “And why is that, hm? What makes you so special? I realized Jackson must’ve noticed this, after all, why else would he keep someone like you around?” His eyes softened into something darker, something that made him uneasy as the demon gently started moving his thumb against his freckled cheek. “Aside from being easy on the eyes, what stopped him from sending you away like he does to all the others?”

With a growl Hiccup yanked his head back, pulling free from the demigods grip. Pitch merely snorted as Hiccup felt rough cold fingertips against his bare sides, making his eyes widen in both fear and anger.

“Don’t touch me-”

“Don’t worry, I’ve already been inside you, remember what I said earlier?” He smirked, making Hiccup feel both disgusted and violated. He didn’t want to think of being filled with dark influence in that way. “Besides, as I said, I’m here to help you realize the truth, that there’s something different about you, and that’s the only reason Jackson’s keep you around.”

“Don’t call him that,” Hiccup snapped as he used all his strength to swing his body slightly backwards in an attempt to get away from his touch. The demigod merely smirked, seeming amused as he took a steps away, bringing his hands back to himself.

“Jackson senses something off about you too, and knowing his curious nature, he wants to figure out what it is-”

“If you’re trying to make me turn my back on Jack, you’re wasting your breath,” he snapped, not wanting to hear it. “Nothing you say will change my mind about him.”

Pitch curled his lip before letting out a short laugh. “Oh, trust me, I’ve seen how stupidly stubborn you can be,” he said as he started circling him. “No-” Hiccup felt his breath hitch as those lips were at his ear, that hot breath making him want to kick him in the family jewel. “I’m just showing you that Jack is scared of you.”

Those forest green eyes couldn’t help but widen in shock at the statement, unable to help it as he spoke his thought out loud: “Scared… of me?”

No, that wasn’t possible.

“Like I said,” Pitch said as he swung around to face him again. “Not even I, who is stronger than Jack, can read or control you, no matter how hard I try.” Holding a hand out, black sand swirled out and formed a horse. “Not even with this.”

Fear thundered in his chest as he tried to fight it. Of course it didn’t matter. There was nothing he could do as Pitch pressed it to his chest. His entire body went numbly cold, his eyesight fading in and out - but only for a moment.

“Say you hate Jackson, now ,” the demigod ordered, his voice full of power. Numbly Hiccup stared at the black horse that looked like a tattoo on his chest as he waited to feel his lips move.

But nothing happened.

“I can’t even read your thoughts right now, and I’m the leader and source of power for the Nightmares,” Pitch said bitterly as he waved his hand. The horse tattoo dissolved into black sand that fell uselessly to the ground, allowing Hiccup to let out a relieved yet confused breath.

That… didn’t make any sense. There was nothing special about him - he didn’t even have a god parent! He was just a typical human being!

Pitch came close again, his hand once again gripping him by the chin. “What makes you so special, Hiccup Haddock?”

He… didn't know. It made no sense - Pitch wasn’t making any sense! Jack never said he was scared of him, in fact, he always seemed scared for him. Unless… that’s why he tried so hard to make him go back to Berk in the first place…?

“You don’t know either, do you?” Pitch asked as he tilted his head up him. “They’re coming.” He glanced back at what seemed to be a door a little bit aways, but it was too dark to really see clearly. “They bathed you, took measurements, examinations, then lathered you in lotions and oils.” Hiccup’s eyes widened in horror, desperately trying not to imagine so many people touching and violating his body. “They’re probably either gonna dress you up for their so called Lord, or he’s coming to see you in your natural state to decide your fate. But don’t worry, what I said before still stands.” His thumb gently started rubbing his cheek again, feeling the freckled one trembling a bit in fear and uncertainty. “When you finally realize Jack won’t save you, just call for me, and I’ll stop them in their tracks.”

That again - that’s the part he didn’t understand. “What do you have to gain from this? I could just ask for help without giving up on Jack - you can’t see into my thoughts.”

“True,” Pitch chuckled, seeming amused. “But when I step in to help, no one lives except you.” Hiccup’s eyes widened in shock, realizing what he meant.

If he asked for help, Pitch would kill everyone, including the innocent people here. “I’d never ask for your help, no matter what!” Hiccup snapped, which only made Pitch tisk.

“Oh Hiccup, how naive you are about the world. These people are even worse than me. You see, their methods are… invasive in a different way, and the others you call innocent? They’re all looking out for themselves, and will do anything to save their own skin. And I mean, anything .” Slowly he stood up straight and let go of his chin. “You’ll see how the world really is, my dear Hiccup. I’m just a call away.”

The door slammed open, and in that instant Pitch was gone. Glancing up, he saw a few people dressed in expensive colorful silks carrying various accessories and delicate fabrics.

“He’s awake!” He heard a woman gasp. “Do it, quickly! They say he’s aggressive!”

“I’m not-” he coughed out as the sweet scent got more intense. The effects were nearly instant as the world got hazier. In the dim flickering candle light, he barely made out women who now had masks over their faces as they cautiously approached him, a few staying by an odd banal plant by the door.

Their hands were brushing his skin, making him want to snap at them to stop, but not so much as a groan left his lips.

“-many freckles, how strange-”

“No, how glorious!”

“Thin, some muscle but not intruding at all-”

“He’s rather feminine, like some of the female warriors.”

“And his hair, it’s brown yet sparkles red!”

“Too bad there’s a scar on his chin-”

“And that he’s... defective.”

Defective… were they talking about his leg? That didn’t make him defective, he was still capable without it!

Hands were on his hips, so many hands-

He tried to move, tried to tell them to back off, but his body wouldn’t respond. He lay limbless as they continued. Like this, he couldn't even start hyperventilating, the drug was keeping his body too calm. Even when he heard a loud thud and a battle cry a little bit aways, his body remained calm.

‘Relax… you can handle this,’ he shuddered to himself. ‘You just have to hold out until Jack gets here.’

It felt like an eternity, but those hands left him as they all went silent. Did they finally leave?

“What… a fine shell,” he heard an older voice muster. “The red matches his rare hair well, I can see why you had trouble picking between red and green, they both suit him well. Though the green would really make these exquisite freckles pop even under the veils-” Hiccup wanted to stiffen as he felt a cold hand brush against his belly button, though the drugs prevented him from doing so. “And the gold really brings out the color of his skin! Like this, he looks like a phoenix taking human form!”

A phoenix… really? That was something he definitely thought he’d never be compared to. Guess it was better than some other animals.  

“These emerald jewels are really fine touches-” fingers forced one of his eyes open, his blurry vision making it hard to see the man’s features. “What a fine green! Yes, these jewels are perfect - he’s perfect!”

“Lord Follo, if I may interrupt,” the leader from the ambush said, making anger rise within Hiccup. Of course he was here. “Though I can see you’re quite excited to lay with this defect, may I remind you he took out the me and the scouts nearly single handedly? It’s too dangerous to let your desire rush things. If anything were to happen to you…”

“Your concern touches me, just as I desire to touch him-” those hands were holding his sides, those rough fingers running up and down them. They didn’t stop there though, they traveled further down to caress his ass The dragon whisperer willed with all his might to move - to speak - to do anything to retaliate.

But nothing - absolutely nothing worked.

‘Don’t freak out, there’s still a chance - there’s still time!’ Hiccup tried to reassure himself.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed since everything happened, but surely Jack was almost here. The demigod would never let something so horrific happen to him just as he wouldn’t let anything like this happen to him.

“-in your care until he’s properly trained,” the man said as Hiccup slowly tuned back into the world. “But I don’t want his body too damaged. Only do harm that can heal, no more defects on him, got it?”

“Yes sir, as you wish.”

“How naive of the Lord,” he heard Pitch say. No one else reacted, meaning he was the only one who could hear him. “That man just wants you for himself. I give it until tonight before he takes his turn with you.” He chuckled into his ear, making Hiccup squeeze his eyes tightly shut.

That won’t happen. Jack was going to save him, he was sure of it.

----

It felt like only moments after he fell that the world started coming back to the demigod.

“-don’t have time to babysit!” A female voice muffly yelled, obviously annoyed.

“I know but you’re forgetting two major factors!” The male’s voice from earlier hollered back, seeming just as annoyed. “One, this guy saved Pascal, he might have some information, and two, he’s a demigod, Cassandra, a demi- GOD . I know we’re more than capable of getting Blondie back on our own but having godly-like powers as back up would be nice!”

Oh, so that’s why they didn’t just leave him for dead, they wanted to use his powers. Sadly he didn’t have time to entertain them.

Very sluggishly he started to sit up, his entire body achy and sore. He hadn’t used that much power in so long, he couldn’t help the way his face paled. “How… long have I been out?” He instinctively asked no one in particular. The two strangers looked at each other, the female only seeming more annoyed and the male giving a nervous smile.

“Two days and a quarter?” The man guessed, though went silent as he saw the panic overwhelm Jack.

That was technically nearly three whole days. So much could’ve happened in three whole days, including Hiccup giving up on him if he wasn’t dead yet!

“Toothless-” he looked around frantically, seeing the dragon sitting between the two humans eating a seasoned fish. The dragon looked up at him with a face that read ‘finally’ before swallowing the rest whole.

“He’s fine,” the dragon reassured, trying to use simple words so the demigod would understand and stop panicking. A hyperventilating demigod was useless. “Need - --- dragon, ---- --- friends,” he motioned to the humans and the chameleon that was on the man’s shoulder.

The humans behind the dragon looked down at the reptile before back at the demigod, both shocked. “You understand this thing?” The man gasped. “That’s both amazing and horrifying! Then again, you are a demigod so I guess these kind of things are normal for you.”

Jack shook his head, not having time for idle chit chat as he stood. Toothless groaned, hating how impatient Jack was. If words weren’t getting through, he’d have to draw, which was the way Hiccup used to communicate with dragons until he perfected the language.

Grabbing a stick between his teeth, he started drawing in the sand, gathering everyone’s attention as he recalled what Pascal told them earlier.

The first drawing was of a camp. He looked up at everyone to be sure they were looking before drawing flames. Taking a step to the right, he made another drawing of Jack holding a cage with a blob in it, to which everyone deduced was the chameleon. The next drawing was of them flying over two stick figures who were waving for help.

“Hey, we never asked for help,” the female said, but Toothless ignored her and kept drawing. The next one was two stick figures helping one laying down, then of a weird circle creature that must’ve been the chameleon drawing like he was. He drew a stick figure with really long hair with the blob on her shoulder, then an arrow pointing to a figure with a square on his left foot who was obviously Hiccup. He then circled the last picture, pointing at it as he looked at Jack, hoping he’d get it.

Thankfully Jack was good at charades because Toothless was a horrible artist. “Is this girl a friend of yours?” He asked the other two, who both nodded.

“She was kidnapped by the Mother’s Arms almost a month ago and we’ve been tracking them ever since. She keeps leaving red herrings to throw us off,” the woman angrily mumbled as she tightly clenched her fists.

“We finally found their main camp, but a few of the escaped prisoners said another army took her and a man captive and headed in this direction.” The man said as he crossed his arms. “They’re pretty sloppy, they aren’t even trying to cover their tracks,” the short haired female pointed to the tire tracks of a wagon and horses hooves. If they weren’t taking any precautions, it meant they were in a rush. These two didn’t pose a big threat, which meant something else did.

“I went into the camp and saw at least three different types of soldiers in there, all of which are enemies. They were probably being attacked as they fled,” his eyes darkened, hoping beyond hope they didn’t accidentally hit the captives while trying to retrieve them.

Both of their faces paled, the male swallowing thickly. “What armies?”

The demigod diverted his gaze to the fire they set up for lunch, surprised they’d take such a risk and break during precious sunlight hours. Then again they probably had to since they were hauling him around. “Other than the Mother’s arms, I saw Callaghan’s army, and the Nightmares.” Both of them, even the chameleon stiffened in horror.

“The Nightmares…” the female mumbled, not wanting to think of what they’d do if they got a hold of Rapunzel. “We have to move, and fast.” Getting to her feet, she kicked dirt on the fire and picked up the bag close to her. “No more breaks until nightfall.”

The man groaned, looking miserable but didn’t question her as he picked up the other bag. “We walked all through the night! Without my beauty sleep, Rapunzel won’t even recognize me!”

Ignoring the comment, the lady looked to Jack, her dark eyes narrowing. “You don’t have to travel with us, but since they have both of our friends, we’ll benefit from working together.”

Jack pursed his lips, not sure if that was such a good idea. After all they were on foot, he could fly much faster and cover more ground. Yet it was using his powers that put him out of commission for nearly three whole days in the first place. Maybe it would be better if he conserved his energy just in case a powerful Nightmare did have Hiccup. He still wasn’t fully rested...

“Fine, but I’ll rally up some horses, it’ll take too long to go by foot,” he said as he let the wind levitate him. “What’s your names?”

“I’m Eugene Fitzherbert,” the man said, obviously happy the demigod was joining them. “And this is our ice cold demoness-”

“Cassandra. We’re from Corona,” she interrupted.

Corona, he heard the stories. Thankfully they were known as being a peaceful kingdom with trustworthy people, which made him feel even more confident in his choice to travel with them. “I’m Jack Frost, and before you freak out, no, the monster died years ago,” he reassured when he saw her tense. “If your friend’s with mine, she’s in serious danger. Keep following the tracks and I’ll bring you horses. We don’t have a lot of time to waste.”

Without another word he flew off, trying to suppress the panic that still made his heart race.

What if he needed to fly to him at full speed? He had no clue where he was, but it would be better than traveling by foot. Then again, he still felt tired… resting was the best choice so he could actually save him.

Right…?

“He’s fine,” he heard Toothless mumble beside him, making the demigod blink over at him. How would he know if he was fine? He wasn’t with him!

The dragon rolled his eyes, knowing what the stupid human was thinking. “Hiccup is stupid, but also smart and strong,” he said, trying to keep it simple enough that even Jack could understand.

The demigod bit his bottom lip. Of course he knew Hiccup was really smart and fairly strong. There was no doubt he was doing everything he could to prolong whatever they were trying to do to him. What really scared him was the capture’s motives and plans, and what they had in store for Hiccup.

----

It was so hard trying to process everything, from the broken skeletal figures who were forced to pleasure nobles to torturing innocent people for ‘fun,’ the dragon whisperer was relieved he still hadn’t eaten anything so he couldn't throw up as he was given a tour of ‘what’s to come.’

He was fairly certain he recognized a few of the people the man called ‘handlers’ by their clothes and insignia. One had the Hamada Brother logo on their bag who looked strikingly familiar to someone who was working on the Safe House with them. He couldn’t be too sure, but he definitely recognized some people from Zootopia. It was hard not to, and he’d rather forget what he was seeing them do.

There was a man he nearly skipped over in his head. It was the same man who was telling others at a pub about a thief who had kidnapped a little girl, then proceeded to say it wasn’t his first victim. Jack nearly froze him and his buddies as they left.

Now Hiccup wished he had.

The most sickening part of it all aside from how brainwashed these people were were the dead bodies. Some deaths looked purposeful while others looked like it was done ‘in the moment.’

Burn - he wanted all these filthy people to burn. Even when the victims were finally free, he wasn’t sure what they’d even do. That didn’t mean he’d give up on them - he’d never give up on them.

“Lord Follo reserved you for him and I, so luckily you won’t be put on that kind of duty,” he said, and sadly Hiccup didn’t need him to elaborate. “You’re fairly strong, I’ll have you start corpse duty.”

Finally the man set him down, Hiccup just realizing they gave him a prosthetic as he stood on wobbly drugged feet. Glancing down at it, he saw it was mostly covered by fabric, probably because everyone here thought it was some kind of horrifying defect.

Disgusting sexist prejudice assholes. Yet they saw nothing wrong with their whole operation they were running. Made perfect sense.

As much as he wanted to make a fuss, he didn’t dare do it with innocent people nearby. He merely did his job no matter how hard it was to really move his limbs, the medicine still heavily affecting him. Besides, they gave him corpse duty. There was no way he wasn’t going to honor the ones who perished here. Some were even younger than he was.

At some point his eyes met with a woman with long tangled blond hair with golden hooped earrings and a matching necklace. Despite doing what she was told, her face was filled with burning determination. All it took was meeting her eyes for a second to know she was an ally.

Pitch suddenly chuckled softly in his ear, greatly confusing him. Before he could even ask what was so funny, he felt arms grab him. Instinctively he moved and elbowed them in the chest, which only caused another person to grab his attacking arm. Something pricked his neck, making him hiss under his breath.

Not again.

“Oh defect, fighting back is a big no.” Hiccup gasped as what felt like fire started streaming through his veins. This wasn’t the same numbing drug from last time-! “No matter what someone does to you.” His handler whispered into his ear, chapped disgusting lips brushing the skin. The dragon whisperer turned to him with a glare as another man punched him hard in the side, knocking the breath out of him.

“Now now, Lord Follo said to be gentle on the defect’s body. He wants to keep it in pristine condition... for now.” The man huffed before storming away, making his handler chuckle. “The man just wanted a feel. After all, you have everyone looking at you, including the slaves.” The dragon whisperer couldn’t help it as he glanced up, seeing it was true. “I’m surprised they didn’t beg to have time with you.” Hiccup tried to shrug him off his burning and crumbling body, but all that did was make him go weak in the knees. The handler merely propped him up by the hips and held his chin in his hand in order to force him to look at all the onlookers. The blond girl was looking down, ignoring the commotion and continuing her work. “They all want you, even the slaves. Maybe Lord Follo will allow it after he’s grown tired of you.”

“I told you,” Pitch only said to him, making Hiccup struggle even more despite the pain. “Can you hear them? They slaves are trying to talk their owners into requesting you so they can get a break. Cruel, but smart on their part.” The pained dragon whisperer tried to ignore him as he focused on the pain, but his voice just wouldn’t go away. “You’ll end up just like them… mindless, numb - a perfect shell.”

Despite the agonizing burning attacking every nerve, Hiccup moved down and bit the man’s hand hard , making him cry out as he slammed his head against his. Sadly he didn’t even feel the pain as he merely elbowed him in the family jewel, his handler’s howls of pain echoing as he felt another dart hit him in the arm, pulling him into unconsciousness.

Anything to get out of being subjected to that kind of torture. He’d rather feel physical pain than be subjected to that hell anyday. If he kept acting up, maybe they’d prolong it long enough for Jack to find him.

----

They covered a surprisingly good amount of ground in the short time they had the horses, which made Jack hopeful. Toothless was even flying a bit ahead of them to warn them if he saw anything to give Jack some time to rest.  

“So who’s this friend of yours? I think you mentioned her name’s Rapunzel?” Jack asked the other two, trying to fill the awkward silence between them. They were obviously weary of him, not that he could blame them. He was still weary of them too.

For a moment they didn’t answer as they shared uneasy looks, making Jack groan. “Fine, I’ll go first,” he intervened. “My friend’s name is Hiccup Haddock. He purposely got kidnapped to free the people the Mother’s Arms kidnapped from Zootopia.”

Eugene couldn’t help but burst into laughter, and if Jack didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn he saw a small smirk on Cassandra’s face. “I’m sorry, did you say his name is hiccup ?” He managed out between chuckles. The demigod merely smiled a bit as he nodded, watching as Eugene laughed some more. At least he was getting some reaction out of them. “I’ve heard some pretty unfortunate names but man does that one take the cake!”

“Fitzherbert,” Cassandra warned before tossing a glance over at Jack. “That’s a pretty ballsy move.” “I know,” Jack said with a proud fondness he couldn’t hide. “From what I saw at camp, most of the prisoners did escape, but Mother Gothel must’ve told the warlords about him, which is why he didn’t.”

Cassandra seemed to flinch at that as she avoided complete eye contact. If Jack didn’t know any better, he’d think she felt guilty with the way her back was slouched and the way her eyes were cast a certain way. Eugene looked over at her sadly, as if wishing he could comfort her in some way, though didn’t know how.

“What does her telling them have anything to do with what happened?” She managed to ask after a few moments.

“It’s complicated,” Jack started, not really sure how to explain it to them without going into detail. The less people that knew the better. “The Nightmares are after him because he’s my friend. They want to use him against me. As for Callaghan’s army, he sort of came up with a way to rid them from a village, but now they want his knowledge to repeat it for their own benefit.”

Was that too vague? The other two simply nodded, leaving him to believe it surprisingly wasn’t.

“I bet him and Varian would get along,” Eugene said with a smile, as if trying to lighten the mood.

Not really knowing how to respond, Jack let out a small awkward chuckle. “Probably. He gets along with just about anyone.”

“Princess of Corona,” Cassandra suddenly said, making Jack blink over to her. “She was the host for a powerful magical item called the sun drop since she was born. It… was supposed to be gone, but… so was she .”

“She?” The demigod asked, noting the dark tone in her voice.

Eugene looked between the two as Cassandra rode a little faster, trying to separate herself from the conversation now. “Gothel,” he quietly clarified, keeping his eyes on her to make sure she was okay. “Her mother.”

Mother?! The demigod couldn’t help the way he glanced over at her again. He hadn’t seen Gothel recently, so he couldn’t really make out the similarities.

“Long story short, the sun drop and moon stone were sent back to where they belong, but somehow Gothel came back even though we were sure the bitch was dead and poof, Rapunzel’s hair became enchanted with the sun drop again.”

There was a very complicated story behind that, he was sure of it. “What does the sun drop let her do?”

“Honestly? It’s all a bit confusing, but she mostly uses it to heal.”

Jack decided to stop there as he saw how uncomfortable the topic was making both of them. At least he had a better idea as to who was with Hiccup and what kind of danger she might find herself in. If the Nightmares found out about her power, they’d want to snuff out her light. And if Callaghan’s army found her? They’d enslave her to heal all of them. Thankfully they wouldn’t kill or sell her though.

And if she could heal, that meant there was a pretty good chance he was free from the knife wound and Nightmare poison.

“Hey Jackass!” He heard Toothless wail from ahead. Without warning he jumped off the horse and let the wind carry him, his eyes narrowing as he saw Toothless start to veer off the path.

Catching up to him, he felt his breath catch in his throat. Bodies of soldiers lay dead with their only wagon in pieces, but they weren't just any soldiers. No, they bore the insignia of a horned viking helmet with spikes jutting out of the top.

“The Outcasts,” Jack hissed as he landed, quickly looking through the wreckage. Toothless dropped down next to him and helped, letting out a whining noise a few seconds after.

“Hiccup,” the dragon mumbled quietly, making Jack look up from where he was searching, only for his heart to stop. In the dragon’s mouth was Hiccup’s prosthetic - there was no mistaking the unique design.

So many scenarios ran through his mind, so many horrific ones that always ended with Hiccup’s death. Desperately he shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, recalling the night of their separation:

“I’m well aware of the risks of war, I can do this,” Hiccup said, giving Jack an encouraging smile. “If they take my prosthetic, I’ll find a way to make a temporary one. If they hurt me, I’ll make them think I’m weaker than I am. If they starve and dehydrate me, I'll exaggerate my condition to convince them to give me a larger portion – I’ll be fine Jack; there’s a benefit to having a fishbone like body.”

Right… Hiccup knew what he was doing. Even without a prosthetic, he was a force to be reckoned with, and even if he couldn’t cause chaos, he knew how to stall until Jack got there. He had to believe that in order to stay level headed right now.

Bringing the prosthetic close to his lips, he clenched it tightly. “Hang in there Hic, I’m close, I promise.”

Numbly he looked around the scene a bit more carefully, trying to capture the full story. Among the bodies he saw not only Outcasts, but Callaghan’s army too. It was safe to say The Outcasts smuggled him out of the burning camp only to have the other army swoop in to try to take their prize. It was impossible to tell who was victorious though.

Toothless gently dropped the prosthetic infront of him, looking up at him sadly. The dragon was worried too, he saw it in the way his body trembled slightly. “He’s fine, I know he is,” Jack reassured as he gently pet the dragon behind the ears. The reptile closed his eyes as he let out a few whines, only to stiffen.

The demigod instantly froze too, straining his ears to listen. “Dragons,” Toothless sniffled into a hiss. Jack strained his ears even more along with his eyes, not picking up on anything.

They were being watched though - he could feel those hypnotic eyes bearing into them.

“Ready to exit stage left?” Toothless didn’t know what that meant, but jumped on Jack’s shoulder anyway. Green acid shot at them from four different directions, the wind pulling them out just in time.

“Wow, okay, maybe we should’ve waited-!” He heard Euguene’s voice and cursed under his breath. Looking down he saw speedy taloned footprints being pressed in some loose dirt heading straight for Cassandra and Euguene who just rode up on the scene.

Shit, invisible dragons-! “Changelings - run!” Jack cried. They both commanded their horses to turn

The footprints quickened

They were out of time.

Taking a deep breath, the demigod commanded the wind to press on their backs, shooting them and their horses into the air. It took a lot out of him to do this, but it was the only way.

Their screams followed them up next to Jack as he willed them and himself forward, straining his eyes and ears in case one of the dragons realized where they were.

“Th-thanks for the save,” Cassandra said, finding Eugene’s bluing face amusing despite the near death experience. “Did you find anything?”

“Hiccup’s prosthetic,” he said, putting it in his pocket as he willed them forward, trying to get as far away as possible. “They were captured by people who knew him well, meaning I probably can’t track him,” he cursed under his breath. If Terrible Terrors couldn’t find him, maybe they’d have to rely on a Rumblehorn. Hiccup mentioned they were the best trackers when they first met. The only problem was he had no clue how to find one, let alone train one. Toothless was really helpful and capable of convincing a Terrible Terror to help, but a Rumblehorn? Probably not.

“How are you tracking him?” Cassandra asked, an idea forming. “Was it with that other dragon?”

“Yeah, but I bet they masked his scent knowing I’d be tracking him,” he grumbled, frustrated.

“What if we used Raps’s scent?” Cassandra proposed, gaining Jack’s interest. “If they’re like most enemies we come across, they probably don’t see her as a threat, meaning there’s a chance they didn’t cover her scent.”

The demigod hummed in thought, honestly not knowing if the Outcasts and Callaghan’s army were known to be sexist or not. They were both pretty dumb, he remembered that much. “Let’s try it. They both weren’t there, meaning there’s still a good chance they’re still together. Do you have something important with her scent?”

Both Eugene and Cassandra thought for a moment before Eugene’s face lit up. “Oh Cass, do you still have the flower hair clippy thing you got for her?”

Her eyes widened as she quickly reached into her pocket, a sad smile befalling her face as she stared at the beautiful pink flower clip she got for Rapunzel right before she was kidnapped. “She wore it for a whole day.”

“That should work,” the demigod said as he delicately took the clip in his hands. Now all they needed was another Terrible Terror and hope Hiccup was still with her.

----

When he woke again, he was back in the cell from before, his hands once again chained above his head as the drugs made it hard to think.

Great.

“Do you see how hopeless your situation is now?” Pitch’s voice whispered against his ear, making him groan.

Not this again. He wouldn’t let this go on.

“Actually, it gives me a sense of hope,” Hiccup mumbled, feeling the medicine wasn’t as strong as last time. The demigod couldn’t help the way he laughed, finding this amusing.

“Hopeful? That looked hopeful to you?”

“Yes,” he said as he pulled on the chains a bit, finding they were just as tight as last time. “Because I know I can do better this time.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is about,” Pitch mumbled, sounding bored. “Everyone thinks they can be a hero-” “I don’t want to be a hero,” Hiccup interrupted as he pulled even harder at the restraints. “I just do what I think is right.”

Pitch couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped his lips. “Is there really a difference?”

“Well, literally speaking, the word means protector or defender, given it’s a greek word-”

“A chatty bookworm too, no wonder he likes you so much,” Pitch interrupted, amused.

Hiccup rolled his eyes, wishing he’d just leave him alone already. “I don’t care what people label me as, hero, annoyance, useless - it doesn’t matter. What matters is I stay true to what I believe in, and I certainly don’t believe in you.” Darkness swirled in Pitch’s eyes as that teasing smirk finally fell. The room grew dimmer as the King of Shadows turned his back to him, making the dragon whisperer slightly uneasy.

“You really think you can help these miserable bags of flesh?” He asked with a mocking tone. “You, alone, against a whole army?”

Hiccup bit his bottom lip, knowing this was Pitch’s true presence. “All of them? No, but I can help some, and that’s all that matters.”

Pitch turned to face him again, his annoyed frown slowly lifting into a small challenging smile. “Fine,” he said, snapping his fingers. The hold around his wrists suddenly vanished. With a surprised gasp he fell to his hands and knees, somehow stopping himself from falling flat on his face. “I’ll give you a chance to save these lost souls, but don’t expect me to help you unless you beg for it.”

Hiccup slowly sat up, the medicine nearly making him throw up now that his body was physically moving. “I don’t need your help,” he said as he slowly gazed around the room. Despite being drugged the whole time, he made sure to be attentive. In every room he saw today, including his own, was a banal looking plant. Most castles loved to show off plants with beautiful flowers, so why were they using these boring looking ones?

Unless they had some benefit.

Crawling over to it, and with some difficulty, he finally managed to grab a few leaves. Throwing one in his mouth, he swallowed it and stuffed the others in his waistband, hoping they wouldn't fall out. If something happened and he couldn’t get to one of the other plants located around the castle, he wanted to be sure he had a few for backup.

“So you noticed the drug suppressor, I’m impressed.” Hiccup merely ignored him as he kept focused on his goal.

Now for the hard part - he had to find the girl with wild hair from the courtyard. With so many chains on her, she was probably still undergoing training like him, meaning there was a chance she was nearby.

“I bet you won’t even find a way out of this room,” Pitch mocked from the shadows, but Hiccup ignored him again. Like mentioned before, the dragon whisperer made sure he paid close attention to everything that happened, meaning he noticed something Pitch obviously didn’t.

Taking a deep breath, he struggled to his feet. Surprisingly the room didn’t spin like before and his feet remained fairly stable considering he couldn’t walk at all moments ago. Maybe the plant’s scent had some clearing properties too.  

Stumbling the first few steps, he clumsily made it to the door and pressed his ear against it.

Silence - he didn't hear so much as clinking metal, let alone anyone talking. For once the odds seemed to be in his favor.

For some reason that didn’t comfort him at all.

“It’s useless-” Pitch stopped as the door slowly crept open when the freckled one pulled, making him growl. “What idiots,” he grumbled as he stepped back into the shadows.

Hiccup was more than relieved he finally shut up as he looked down the hall, seeing no one but dozens of cell doors. Frustration started slithering in his heart. There was no way he could check all these cells without someone hearing him, and he couldn't exactly call out either.

There had to be some way to find her before they realized he was missing.

Maybe he should start with the first cell and see what came from checking it. When they were forcing him into clothes, he could’ve sworn he vaguely heard a shouting female further away. With how thick these walls were, there was a good chance she was in the room next to his.

Yeah right, like he’d have that much luck. Whoever was in the room though might have some valuable information.

Taking very light steps, he very slowly started to push on the door. Just like his, it wasn’t locked, leading him to believe the soldiers were far too cocky.

That would definitely come in handy.

Peeking his head in, he couldn’t believe his luck. There chained to the wall just as he was, was the girl with long trusseled blonde hair with golden hoop earrings that matched the green beaded necklace along her neck and wrist. The closer he got, he realized her ankles were chained to the floor as well.

“Freckles?” She asked as her ferocious expression melted into confusion. “How’d you get out?”

Hiccup took note in the way her face was scrunched at the sides, giving him the impression that her pride was hurt. “It doesn’t matter,” he quickly whispered as he slid into the room and closed the door behind him. Pressing his ear against it, he listened again.

No one. Good.

“I’m Hiccup,” he said as he slowly made his way over, trying his hardest to prevent his prosthetic from clinking too loud against the floor. “And you?”

His answer made her narrow her eyes in suspicion as that rather frightening expression from earlier came back. “How do I know you aren’t a trap?” She asked, obviously not letting it go.

“Cause why would I want to be here especially wearing this?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. The girl couldn’t help but nod, seeming to believe that answer at least. “Still, how did you get out?!” She tugged on the chains on her wrists and ankles in annoyance. “Not even I can get out, and I can get out of almost anything.”

“Oh for the love of-” he rolled his eyes before taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself. They didn’t have a lot of time and she was wasting it on questions?

“Someone helped me,” he said, glaring at the darkest corner of the room. “Even though I could’ve gotten out myself.”

The girl couldn’t help but snort. “Someone helped you? That’s not suspicious at all!” She mocked.

“I’m cursed, does that work?!” Hiccup finally snapped, losing a little bit of patience. “This will probably have a really bad ending unless my friend gets here soon, but I refuse to sit back and let myself be treated like this.”

The smile slowly fell from her lips as her eyes never left his face. She must’ve found it convincing because she let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, I trust you… for now,” she said. “But if your cursed ass gets us killed I’ll murder you!” “Sounds fair,” Hiccup couldn’t help but smile, relieved she was smarter than to put up too much of a fight. “I’m gonna look at the chains a moment, okay?” He warned as he came forward, studying the metal. It was surprisingly made well, which is probably why they felt cocky enough to keep the doors unlocked. Only a key could get these open.

A key or a dragon, but he couldn’t use the latter with the demon in his shadow.

“I need a key,” he sighed, looking back at the door. “I’ll be right back-”

“No need,” she said, making him look back up at her in confusion. Her smile turned into a proud smirk. “I have two keys, mine and one of theirs, cause I’m just that good.” With a few violent shakes of her hair, Hiccup’s eyes caught sight of a black key that looked familiar somehow, though he’s never seen a black key before in his life.

Without even realizing it, he took it, holding the smooth metal in his hand.

Was this metal? It kind of felt like it, but it also faintly felt like something else, something like… “Gronckle iron?” His eyes widened as he pulled it even closer to his eyes. The recipe was lost to them after Fishlegs couldn't remember what he fed his dragon. The fact that there’s a key made of it meant someone out there had the recipe!

“Uhm, earth to Freckles,” Camicazi called out, her tone sounding almost disturbed. “You still around or?”

Shaking his head he nodded. “Sorry, I guess I geeked out,” he nervously laughed as he didn’t even bother grabbing the other key. He just brought the black one up to the shackles and found it fit, probably even better than the original key.

“Thank the GODS,” Camicazi groaned as Hiccup undid the last chain that was around her neck. The girl wasted no time rubbing at her wrists and neck, her expression darkening the longer she did. “Just wait until I put all of them in chains!”

“Wait-” Hiccup quickly said, noticing her anger was getting the best of her. “Don’t forget about the others. We have to free them before we do anything reckless.”

Camicazi stopped rubbing her wrists as she glared up at him, once again annoyed. “We have to knock some heads together if we want to save them anyway.”

“True, but I have a plan,” Hiccup quickly said, making her raise a skeptical eyebrow. “But there’s a hiccup - or rather two.”

“Anddd what’s what?” She asked, crossing her arms skeptically.

“I need the castle’s layout and patrol patterns,” he bit his bottom lip, hoping this wouldn’t come to a dead end.

Her devious smirk gave him hope.

Hiccup swallowed the dread that was crawling up his throat, knowing that at any moment his good luck was going to run out. Not only did Camicazi know the layout of the castle, as she nearly escaped four times, but she also learned the patrol patterns because she was trying to plan another escape attempt. On top of that, no one seemed to notice they were gone.

All hell was about to break loose, he could feel it.

“There,” Camicazi said with a triumphant smirk as they lowered the next barricade against what barely qualified as a castle gate, successfully locking the training soldiers outside. “That takes care of half of them for a while.” Already they - or rather Camicazi - took out the watch guards single handedly. Hiccup was still in complete awe as she practically floated up the walls like some kind of vengeful spirit before knocking them out.

‘I once battled a brute three times my size and stole his underwear without him even noticing!’ She boasted earlier, to which he believed her. She was definitely a thief not to be reckoned with.  

“Okay, that just leaves the patrolling guards inside the castle, which we’ve estimated to be at least forty.”

Camicazi couldn’t help but let out a soft snort, finding his unusual calmness amusing. Then again, they did have a pretty solid plan. “Forty against two, I like the odds,” she smirked as they very quietly started making their way to the halls. After a while he was walking by himself as they neared the first set of guards.

Four of them, all drunk and laughing about some story he couldn’t even hear. Not that it mattered. His eyes glanced up at the ceiling where Camicazi was crawling along the beams, her predatory eyes scaring even him. Like this she looked like a lion waiting for the right moment to pounce on her prey.

As soon as they walked in front of an open door, she dropped down, a rope keeping her tied to the beam as she used the velocity to kick the four into the room. Drunk, they easily stumbled and fell, to which Hiccup quickly ran and closed the door, slipping the barricade on just in time.

“The hell - let us out!!” One of them cried as another banged on the door. Hiccup glanced up at Camicazi, seeing her already up the rope and making her way further down the hall.

They repeated this process until they couldn’t find anyone else in the halls, only having trouble with a group of five who weren’t drunk. Yet even they proved to be overpowered.

The duo peeked out from one of the hallway door frames into the center room, both out of breath as they observed the area. They closed off all exits and entrances except for two. One was their escape route while the other had too many people gathered around it. Barricading it would’ve given them away. “You know, you aren’t that bad,” Camicazi said, making Hiccup smile a bit as he glanced over at her panting form. “For a boy, that is.”

“Thanks, you’re not bad either, for a girl, that is,” he smirked right back, forcing her to stifle back a laugh. Hiccup’s smile slowly fell though as he glanced back at the room, seeing all the brainwashed innocent people being used as nothing but puppets. They were hardly fed, their ribs were sickeningly sticking out and their eyes held little to no light. Images from the town they found in the forest came back, making clench the staff he stole from a guard.

No, he refused to let history repeat itself. This time he’d save them.

“What I said earlier still goes,” Hiccup said, gaining the other’s attention. “I want you to focus on getting the others out of here. If I get overpowered, leave me behind-” “Freckles-”

“I mean it.” Hiccup punctuated as he looked her in the eyes, letting her see his burning determination. “I wasn’t lying earlier, I’m cursed. There’s someone from the Nightmares watching me from the shadows, someone who probably won’t let me leave.”

Some of the color drained from her face as she physically tensed. “Oh,” she said, silence filling the space after. Hiccup bit his bottom lip uncomfortably as he avoided eye contact. Of course she’d shut him out after hearing that. Who wouldn’t?

“I’m still not gonna leave you,” she said after a few moments, making Hiccup look back at her in confusion. Camicazi was smiling this time, a smile that was warm and not teasing, something so foreign to her face it was odd to see. “I’ll focus on everyone first, but if something happens, I’ll come back for you.”

“No, you can’t do that,” he said, unable to stop the smile of fondness that crept to his lips, feeling horribly touched. “I appreciate it-”

“No butts,” she said stubbornly, that playful smirk returning. “You freed me, I owe you one.” She turned to jump back to the ceiling, but stopped as Hiccup gently grabbed her wrist.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he soothed, catching her eyes again. “My friend’s a demigod, he’s coming to save me, so don’t worry, okay?”

Someone screamed bloody murder, pulling them both back into the moment. It wasn’t unusual for this area, but it would be the last time.

Giving each other an understanding nod, they went to their respective positions. There were only five guards in this area who were armed. The others were neglecting their duties and using their ‘toys.’ Hopefully this wouldn’t take too long.

Eating another leaf he had stored in his hip, he glanced up at Camicazi, seeing she was ready.

The master thief jumped down from the beam and kicked two of the guards hard in the chest, successfully knocking their helmets off. Hiccup ran over, his staff swinging as he slammed it into the back of their heads.

They didn’t move.

‘Three more,’ he breathed, feeling an uneasy chill in the air. This wasn’t Jack’s cold, this was Pitch’s. Of course he wouldn’t let him leave yet.

Screams and cries broke out at the scene from the captives. A few of them stayed silent, some thoughtful, some thoughtless.

“We’re leaving tonight!” Hiccup hollered as loud as he could, readying his staff as guards started running up to him. “If you want your freedom, get behind me!” For a moment, no one moved as the guard charged him. Hiccup easily side stepped as Camicazi swung down and kicked him hard in the face, knocking him flat on his back. Twirling the staff, Hiccup struck him in the sensitive area, forcing the man to let out a guttural howl before going silent, unconscious.

A few started coming forward, both males and females alike. They were hesitant, uneasy, but they were taking the first few steps towards freedom.

Hiccup glowered as he saw a man grab a woman who was looking hopeful in their way, wrapping his disgusting fingers around her throat. “You’re not going anywhere fucking bitch!”

“Cover them!” Hiccup hollered as he ran over, only to skid to a stop seeing another woman hit him with a food tray. The man’s hands fell from the other’s neck, allowing her to quickly scramble from his lap. The women with the tray slammed it hard against his skull one more time before they both ran over.

That’s when chaos broke out. The handlers tried forcing their merchandise to go with them and sneak out the back door, but the other victims wouldn’t allow it. Left and right light started swimming in those dead eyes as they fought back. Camicazi jumped down from the ceiling and fended the handlers who made a mad dash for the line of women who were waiting for freedom as Hiccup helped attack the handlers who tried to get away. The whole time something was nagging at the back of his mind, something he didn’t want to admit bugged him.

He hadn’t seen the Commander or whatever that man was who captured him - the one who was supposed to be handling him. Considering he was high ranking, he could be leading the training session outside the castle.

“Don’t move, or I’ll cut out his throat!” One of the handlers threatened. Hiccup pivoted around on his heels and growled, seeing the man backed into a corner with a knife at the slave’s throat. Within seconds the fear left the slave’s face as he slammed his hand hard on the other’s family jewel. With a howl of main the man dropped the knife. With a shrug the slave ran free. Clenching his staff Hiccup ran forward and swept the man’s feet out from under him before slamming it into his chest.

Thud - Hiccup and Camicazi looked up towards the large doors they closed earlier and cursed. They had less time than they had hoped for.

“Everyone follow me!” He heard Camicazi holler. The captives nodded and followed, glancing over at a few who stayed where they were in fear.

They couldn’t move, they were scared to hope.

“Come on,” Hiccup gently soothed over at twins who seemed frightened out of their mind. Images of finding the little girl and her brother came back, to which he quickly shook the thought away. “If you don’t want to lose each other you’ll follow her, got it?” He pushed a little more, seeing more fear fill their eyes. But they still didn’t move.

He refused to leave them here. “I’m sorry, but you have to go.” Reaching down he pulled them both up by the front of their shirts and gently pushed them in the direction of the line. “Follow them.” Hesitantly the two did as they were told just as something sharp pierced his neck - again.

Cursing under his breath he quickly ate one of the leaves as his eyes met those cold gray ones that were filled with both rage and admiration.

Speak of the devil.

“The defect’s behind this? I have to say, I’m surprised,” he said as he clenched his own staff. He obviously didn't want to hurt his merchandise too badly. “That girl was locked up tight this time, meaning you were the one that freed her.”

“Does it really matter?” Hiccup asked, feeling a nervous bead of sweet trail down the side of his face. The leaf didn’t seem to do anything against whatever was injected in his neck this time. It was starting to get cold. “You won’t get past me.” He said, his eyes narrowing with determination flaring from his eyes. By now the line of slaves was out of sight, thank the gods. Now he just had to fend this man off for as long as he could.

----

Jack made sure they were safely away from the Changelings before setting them all down. All the horses instantly collapsed, reveling in the feeling of dirt beneath their hooves.

Cassandra and Eugene both dismounted their horses, seeming to be thankful for land again too.

“What the hell happened? There were no dragons!” Eugene finally managed to complain.

“Changelings,” Jack and Cassandra said at the same time, making them both look at each other, amused. “They’re dragons that can camouflage against anything.”

Eugene tapped a finger against his chin as he tried to wrap his mind around what happened, his eyes glancing down at Pascal who looked back up at him. “Oh, so like a chameleon, I get it!”

Jack let himself sit down for a moment, feeling more drained then he would’ve liked. “They normally don’t inhabit open areas like that,” he mumbled to himself, wondering if Hiccup had something to do with that.

“You’re right,” Cassandra agreed, crossing her arms in deep thought. “I’ve only encountered them in areas with a lot of cover. Maybe the enemy has a base camp somewhere in the forest. That would explain why the dragons were chased into the open.”

Oh right - that could be a thing too. He really hoped Hiccup called for them though. At least that gave him hope that he was okay.

“A flying human?” He heard Toothless question, horribly confused. Glancing up, Jack couldn’t help but squint, not believing what he was seeing. The dragon was right, there was definitely someone in the sky, but something wasn’t right. It didn’t really look like they were flying, it was more like they were being carried.

Wait… something bright was trailing behind it, something golden?

Getting to his feet, he willed the wind to pull him up. The closer he got, the more he realized that yes, this was a female with really long blond hair but she wasn’t flying, she was being carried by a Changeling!

Could this be Rapunzel?! Since she was with Hiccup it made sense why a dragon had her, although it didn’t explain why the dragon whisperer was nowhere in sight.

Toothless fluttered up next to him as they stayed a safe distance away, not really sure what to do. “I don’t want to hurt it, but I don’t know how to ask it to let her go. Can you?”

Toothless groaned, knowing this would happen. Flying up further up, he grew nervous. Would this wild Changeling even listen to him?

“Hey,” Toothless cautiously called, hoping he gained its attention. He couldn't see it, it was invisible! “Did the dragon whisperer ask you to protect her?”

For a moment, he didn’t think he’d get a response and nearly jumped when he did. “Yes tiny one, he begged me to keep her safe. Why do you smell like him?”

“Toothless is his guardian. Is he okay?” He asked, fearful for the answer.

“I do not know. I took the girl and left. There were many men around him, though I’m sure he’s fine considering-”

“Toothless knows,” Toothless interrupted, glancing down at Jack, hoping he didn’t hear that. “What did they look like?”

“Black clothing with red stripes and a little bit of blue. They didn’t really say anything while I was there.”

“That’s enough, thank you,” he said with a tired sigh. There was never a dull moment with Hiccup. “Let the girl go, we’ll reunite them.”

The dragon’s camouflage slowly faded, revealing the dragon that hovered with her still clenched protectively in its talons. Without another word she was suddenly airborne. Jack wasted no time catching her, nearly sneezing as her hair smacking him in the face.

“S-sorry!” Rapunzel cried out as she desperately wrapped her arms around him, afraid he’d let go. The fear was short lived however as her excited curiosity got the better of her. “You’re flying!” She gasped in excitement.

“I’m aware,” Jack said as they started to slowly descend, finding it difficult when the hair kept smacking him in the face.

“Without a dragon!” She squealed, only to stop mid way. Fearing something was wrong, the demigod looked down at her, though his eyes caught sight of the necklace she was wearing.

That was Hiccup’s! “The ticking thing!” He gasped, looking at her almost desperately. “What happened to him?”

“He pushed me away!” She snapped bitterly yet worriedly. “They were coming from everywhere and he called for help, but the dragon only grabbed me! I have to help him!”

Jack’s eyes narrowed, wondering how that could've happened. A Changeling that size would’ve had no problem carrying both of them, so why didn’t Hiccup go with her?

“Did you see any of them?” He questioned as Toothless landed on his shoulder. Rapunzel looked down in guilt as she shook her head.

“No… sorry. The dragon picked me up so fast I got disoriented, b-but we can find him with this thing!” She quickly held up the necklace, to which Jack nodded. They never tried it out before, but if it was Hiro approved he trusted it with their lives.

“The Changeling ---- black ------, red ------, and blue ------- humans.” Toothless said, hoping beyond hope Jack would get some of it.

It was enough, and the news literally made his blood turn ice cold.

Too late - oh dear gods they were far too late-!

“Can I see the necklace?” He asked urgently as they landed. Rapunzel nodded as she slipped it off as he set her on the ground. Instantly He pictured Hiccup sitting with him at a campfire, laughing and calling him an idiot as the ticking thing’s arrow moved, pointing forward.

“I’m going with you,” Rapunzel said, motioning for her friends not to hug her yet. “He saved my life, now I need to save his.”

Jack’s gaze darkened as he nodded, grateful. “Good, because where he’s at, he’s going to need your healing.”  

----

He felt himself start stirring again, and just like the first time, he could hardly move. Every inch of his body was sore, the lingering effects of the earlier drug taking a drastic effect on his body. Then again it was probably designed to do that.

It was odd though, he wasn’t chained to the ceiling, no he was looking up at it.

“Honestly I’m impressed. You managed to get most of the slaves out, but then you got yourself captured again,” he muffely heard Pitch say, making him groan. “The Lord wants you to suffer for what you’ve done. And this man? He believes the worst punishment is having your own body betray you.”

Hiccup’s eyebrows knitted together after a few moments, confused. “Wh-what?”

Footsteps could be heard rushing towards his room, which made Pitch smile. “Just remember, I can stop him at any moment. Oh, and once he’s finished with you, there’s a whole line waiting for you.”

Hiccup’s eyes widened as Pitch was replaced by his handler who was wearing a black silk robe.

Oh - oh no.

*** “You’re finally awake,” he smirked as he climbed on top of him, the floor - no the bed beneath him bowing down a bit. “Everyone wants you to themselves after what you did, but the Lord gave you to me to punish.” Cold hands crawled over his partially clothed chest, making Hiccup’s stomach flutter, much to his horror. The man sighed at the reaction before dipping down. Without warning lips pressed against the exposed part of his chest, making him gasp in fear.

No - oh gods no he refused to let this happen! And yet, he couldn’t move - he couldn't even lift his pinkie off the bed-!

“S-stop-” he somehow managed to cry out.

The man’s face was suddenly back, those gray eyes fogged over with that damned disgusting smirk on his face. “Since I found you, you belong to me first defect-” lips pressed hungrily against his as those hands went to his sides, running up and down them as if wanting to memorize him.

“Stop - no - Jack-!” He desperately tried crying against the man’s lips, which only allowed the man to push his tongue into his mouth as one of those hands went to his nipple-

“NO!” He screamed as he slammed his head into the other man’s. Somehow it only seemed to spur him on more as he straddled his waist and ground down, making Hiccup miserably whimper.

‘Ask for help Hiccup,’ the demon chuckled as he felt the tongue break through his lips again.

No - he hated this, but he Jack would come - Jack would save him, not Pitch!

Moving his head slightly forward, he bit down hard on the invading tongue. When the man cried out in pain and tried to pull back, Hiccup only bit down harder , determined to bite it off.

‘Jack - I need you please PLEASE where are you?!’

A blinding white pain erupted though his body stemming from his private area, his mind literally going blank as a harsh ringing erupted in his ears.

“You BITCH!” He heard the man painfully wail as the weight against him left. Hiccup’s eyesight slowly started to come back only to realize tears were trailing past his cheeks, making him whimper.

He still couldn’t move, it literally took everything he had to move his head and bite-!

But this is what he asked for, wasn’t it? When he stood up to Jack and told him he’d take whatever came his way because he could handle it, that included this, right? So he shouldn’t complain, he should be able to take-!

...this was his fault for being so naive... wasn’t it?

“You made me BLEED!” He felt a blade press into his side, pain flaring and forcing him to let out a pained cry. “Do it again, and we’ll see what I do next!” Fear flooded through his veins as the man plunged into his mouth again, biting hard on his tongue and drawing blood.

‘Just give the word, and I’ll kill him for you Hiccup,’ Pitch said softly into his ear, those cold yet soft fingers in his hair such a sharp contrast from the horrific pain that was engulfing his tongue and side. ‘Do it, before your body isn’t yours anymore.’

The man left his lips as Hiccup was forced to swallow the mixture of their blood as he was picked up by the hair and turned around. “I’m going to make you feel hell!” The man grabbed his hips, not even caring that the knife was still in his side as Hiccup’s fear hit its peak.

It was hot, the room was hot, the man’s movements seemed to slow as the man grabbed his head and pushed his head into the mattress-

Jack wasn’t there-

Toothless wasn’t there-

He was all alone and he couldn’t stop this! All this time he thought he was ready to face the world, but not this - definitely not this-!

*** “Help-” The door slammed open just as the plea left his lips, the whole room becoming ice cold.

Cold - it was cold - was this Jack - please let it be Jack-!!

It was, and the absolute look of pure murder written on his face was petrifying. The demigod didn’t even lift a finger as an icicle slammed into the man’s side, the same area Jack could see a knife lodged into his precious friend’s side. The man yelped in pain, yet Jack was there before he even realized what happened.

“How. Dare. You .” The whole room froze over in an instant as he grabbed the man by the throat and threw him to the icy ground.

Hiccup let out a relieved sob as he curled up on himself, not even realizing that unlike the rest of the room, he was being spared from the cold. It took all of Jack’s restraint not to let his powers run wild, but thankfully he had someone he wanted to take his anger out on.

“Wh-who the hell are you?!” The man gasped as he felt ice starting to crawl along his skin. Jack’s eyes turned all white as darkness started to seep from him, a darkness that made the man cower against a wall in pure terror.

This man tried to violate Hiccup’s sacred body. This man dared to stab and beat him - made him whimper and cry, and who knows what else he did to his precious one-!

“I’m your worst nightmare ,” his voice deeply rumbled, not sounding like himself at all. The man quivered and whimpered as he felt his veins slowly freezing, looking up at him in pure unfiltered terror.

“Wh-what - a-are you doing to me?!” Jack took a step forward, the ice only seeming to slow as it started to cover his organs. The demigod didn’t speak as he came even closer, making sure to completely freeze something inside the man that made his eyes roll up into the back of his head. “S-stop… I-I b-beg you…”

The room went even colder as anger shot through Jack. “Did you stop when Hiccup asked?!” He snapped, picking the man up by the hair. “Did you stop when ANY of the asked?!” An icicle formed at the man’s lips, all the sides and edges themselves spiky as Jack’s face grew so dark he wasn’t even recognizable. “I want you to take this, all of it, slowly.” The man’s eyes widened as he felt it enter his mouth, the spikes already tearing up his mouth.

A small surprised gasp left Jack’s lips as some darkness fled when he felt a weight press weakly against his chest, shaky twig like arms wrapping around him.  

“D-don’t…” he heard Hiccup’s shaky voice beg, the grip around him tightening. “Please… this… isn’t you.”

The otherworldly glow left his eyes as he quickly turned around and pulled Hiccup into his arms, horribly shocked the auburn managed to get off the bed. He was heavily drugged, he knew that the moment he saw the scene. So how the hell did he manage to get up and make his way to him?

“Hiccup,” he softly whispered as he held him carefully in his arms, mindful of the knife still in his side. “I’m so, so sorry it took me so long to find you,” the demigod practically whimpered as he made sure not to make him feel overcrowded in his arms.

The dragon whisperer merely shook his head as Toothless flew in, uneasily landing next to them upon seeing the scene. Something really bad happened… and something wasn’t right.

“You came-” Hiccup gasped out as he weakly clenched the front of Jack’s shirt and buried his face where he could, unable to help the way his body trembled.“You came, I-I thought you wouldn’t-!!”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh at that as he glanced down at his precious friend. “You thought I wouldn’t? Come on Hic, you know I’ll always be here for you… even if I’m slightly late.” His eyes went to Toothless, seeing the dragon uneasy. “You’re hurt-”

Toothless let out a roar, but Jack was ready this time. He gripped Hiccup’s wrist tightly as he felt the end of the bloodied knife barely poke against his clothes. Furious anger coursed through him as he looked down at Hiccup with such sad eyes.

This is how Hiccup was able to move off the bed despite being drugged.

“He’s not yours,” Jack hissed as he felt Hiccup push even harder against the knife. Bile rose in the back of his throat as he twisted his friend’s wrist, the cry of pain going straight to his heart as the knife clamored to the floor. “Let. Him. Go.”

Pitch chuckled as he formed from the shadows by the bed, seeming more than pleased. “On the contrary Jack, he finally is.” He smirked. Freckled hands wrapped around his throat, making Jack gasp in shock more than pain. “Do you know how hard it was to finally gain some control over him?” He said, quite pleased as Toothless growled at the demigod of darkness. Of course he paid the dragon no mind. “You really know how to pick’em, don’t you?”

Jack hated to do it, but he let his ice run along Hiccup’s hands as a warning. His freckled face wavered, but his grip didn’t. “I refuse to hurt you Hic.”

“No matter what I did, I couldn’t control him. He had to invite me in by asking for help. Even now that he’s under my direct control, I still can’t tell what he’s thinking or look into his past. I can only feel his emotions-” Pitch stopped as his look hardened against Hiccup.

The grip around his neck slowly faltered until those freckled hands left, tears streaming down his cheeks. “-orry - I’m… so sorry-” Hiccup’s eyes opened, revealing pitch black sand desperately swirling in them.

“What?” Pitch hissed as he held a hand out, applying more force. The auburn let out a sharp cry as he tried pulling himself away from Jack slightly, but the demigod didn’t dare let go. He absolutely refused to let the shadow master touch him.

The said dark demigod growled even more, applying more and more force. “Why?! I had you - I finally had you!”

Toothless landed on Jack’s shoulder and reached a paw out to Hiccup, which only made him whimper more. As soon as he touched him, black sand shot out from him - from his eyes, ears, nose and back. Jack literally watched as the nightmare mark on the back of his neck literally dissolved into sand before his very eyes, the sand crawling back to PItch in defeat.

“What…?” Jack even found himself muttering, but only for a second. Composing himself he let out a burst of ice, creating a wall in the room to separate them from Pitch.

“This isn’t over Jackson,” Pitch said, though his voice wavered a bit. If he didn't know any better, it sounded like there was a pinch of fear in his voice. “I’ll make him a Nightmare, the most fearsome Nightmare yet, and it’ll be all your fault!”

Jack ignored him as he quickly gathered Hiccup in his arms and flew as fast as he could out of the room, though knew Pitch wouldn't follow. Not when he had no clue how to bend Hiccup to his will.

The wind made Hiccup shiver, the blood seeping from the wound not helping either. “You’re gonna be just fine,” he whispered into Hiccup’s hair, trying not to dwell on what just happened. They’d have plenty of time to reflect on that later.

Finally finding the exit, he saw the Coronians eyes widen in excitement before they saw the blood. Instantly Rapunzel came running forward, gathering strands of her hair as he landed, gently setting him on the ground.

“You’re gonna be okay Hiccup,” she gently soothed as she wrapped her hair around his chest. Light gently flowed from her into him as Jack looked over to see Cassandra, Eugene and a girl with wild blond hair giving food and water to some of the slaves. They looked so confused and broken… almost like the people of the village they stumbled upon.

Hiccup could’ve ended up just like them.

‘No - I’d never let that happen,’ he swore to himself as he looked up at Rapunzel, seeing her looking for more wounds. “His mouth-” there was blood seeping from the sides of his mouth, making more anger course through him.  

“Hic, I’m gonna open your mouth so we can heal it, okay?” He whispered very gently. Both of them didn’t move until they saw him give a slight nod, though both grew angry when they saw what the source was. Part of the left side of his tongue was nearly bit in half. It took everything the demigod had not to storm back into that sickening place to torture the man more.

Rapunzel whispered soft warnings to Hiccup before healing his tongue, her eyes looking for more wounds. They didn’t see any… but who knows how he was doing mentally.

“Do you feel anymore pain?” The princess softly asked, to which Hiccup shook his head no. She couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. “Good. There’s nothing I can do about the drugs, I’m sorry. We’ll have to wait for them to wear off.”

“You’ve done more than enough,” Jack gratefully said as he looked back down to Hiccup, watching with a heavy heart as those foggy forest green eyes held a glint of fear in them. His body was still shaking… that was to be expected though. Hopefully the drugs would wear off soon.

“Don’t worry Hic, I won’t leave your side,” he mumbled as he took off his cloak and draped it on his body. Hiccup shivered but closed his eyes, trying to regulate his panicked breathing. Jack bite his lip, knowing there wasn’t much he could do.

Or maybe there was. “Hic, I want you to focus on me, on my words, okay? Remember… I want to be a bard, so… just focus on me, my story, and my voice until you fall asleep.”

----

Authors Note: I hope you guys enjoyed this super long chapter! =D I didn't have an editor because I didn't want to bother anyone and it's really long so I apologize! Tumblr doesn’t like to copy and past any italicized of bold words I do and it’s really hard to find them all so on tumblr I left it alone, sowy =/ For those who didn't want to read the *** part, the only thing you missed was someone inappropriately touching and trying to rape Hic, but Jack came just in time! But Hic called out for help and Pitch used that moment of invitation to possess Hic - or rather, tried to possess him. I hope you guys liked it!

[anoutlandishfanfic]

S4 Finale Part One.

So, needless to say, I’m not a fan of how the season four finale handled Jemmy’s birth. I highly recommend reading the book scenes, but I thought I’d do a Show!Canon take on how it should have gone... sort of a best of both worlds. It’s a two-parter, this one being Claire’s POV and the second Jamie’s.

The last three days of our journey were quite possibly the hardest. Not because of the terrain or even the weather, but the knowledge that we were returning empty handed. I was restless, unable to sleep and only wanting to return home to Bree.

Jamie was much in the same mood I was and, without really discussing it, we’d pushed our mounts and ourselves nearly to the point of exhaustion as we covered as much ground as possible. We rose before dawn and only stopped for the night after darkness had fallen in earnest, sometimes rousting in a barn loft instead of a tavern bed. Running on little sleep and even lower expectations of our homecoming, we moved with all haste, the little flicker of hope still burning within me that we would make it back in time growing with every passing mile.

I would be there for Bree. I would be at her side as she delivered, to support and reassure her as she was once again assaulted, this time from the inside out. She would not be alone. She would not be at the mercy of her body while being surrounded by women whose approach to midwifery was closer to the dark ages than it was to modern medicine.

We paused only for a moment as we crested the final ridge and River Run spread out before us in all of its glory. My heart clenched as it whispered the petition I’d heard Jamie repeat in the still of the night.

Lord, let them be safe… both she and the child.

Jamie heeled his mount forward and we galloped together, closing the distance between us and our daughter with as much speed as our horses could muster. My eyes burned with dust we kicked up, as well as the overwhelming need to see her… to hold her in my arms, shutting out the world and it’s harms.

The road widened as the river’s bank flanked us and we closed in on River Run, the busy fields whizzing by unnoticed as I set my sights on one thing and one thing alone…

The front doors.

I watched as they opened and three men stepped out onto the wide veranda, descending the stairs and approaching the gate at an alarming pace. One was easily identifiable as Jocasta’s manservant Ulysses, whom I’d expect to welcome us, but Jamie’s aunt was not by his side. Another, clad in a kilt with stark white hair, was Jamie’s godfather, Murtagh. As we drew closer, I identified the third as Lord John Grey, his posture and fine clothes eliminating all other possibilities.

But what did their presence and Jocasta’s absence mean?

A chill ran down my spine as a great many worst case scenarios played out in my mind and the shadows of L’Hopital began to creep in.

What if something went wrong? What if something was going wrong right now?

I dug my heels sharply into my horse’s sides and we flew over the remaining yards in a full out sprint, Jamie’s mount keeping up stride for stride. The welcome wagon arrived at their destination before we did and Murtagh swung the gate wide, striding through it with arms outstretched to take hold of our horses’ bridles. I was out of the saddle nearly before we came to a complete halt and my feet hit the ground running.

“The midwife is wi’ her,” he informed us, Jamie’s boots touching down moments after mine. “Third door on the left a’ the top of the stairs.”

With this, I was gone, rushing past both Lord John and Ulysses on my way towards the open door. A strangled cry pierced the air as I crossed the threshold, one that made my blood run cold and haunted only the worst of my nightmares.

Brianna.

I began hear voices in conversation as I took the stairs two at a time. Urgent requests jumbled together to form an indistinguishable hum, but it was hers that rang out above the rest, loud and clear.

“Don’t touch me!”

Her words gave me the burst of adrenaline I needed to keep going as I reached the landing. I couldn’t breathe as I surged forward and continued my climb, my heart fully lodged in my throat. Tripping over the lip of the final stair, I reached out and grabbed hold of the banister with one hand to steady myself as I hiked my skirts up above my knees with the other.

I tore down the hall and threw the door to Bree’s chamber open, sending it clattering against the wall as I burst into the room, all but running Lizzie over in my haste. We clung to each other for half a second in attempt to stay upright, the teen shrieking as if I were the devil himself. Letting go, I pushed past her and practically threw myself onto the bed beside my daughter.

Bree was in my arms the next moment and she clung to me, sobbing Mama over and over again.

“I’m right here, I’ve got you,” I gushed.

I knew the room was in uproar behind me, but their noise faded away as I focused on my daughter, examining every inch of her. I smoothed back the curls around her face, wiping away her tears and picking up her harried pulse as my fingertips brushed against her temples.

“It’s alright, luv,” I crooned, taking in her pale face, screwed up in abject terror. “You’re alright.”

My hand dropped to her distended abdomen, assessing as much as I could amid her contraction, then slid to the bunched material of her shift about her hips, pulling the hem back down over her knees.

I heard Jocasta protest from somewhere behind me and cold, foreign hands reached out to undo my actions, pulling at a fist full of cloth in order to bare my daughter to a room that meant her harm. I brushed them away and, with my help, Bree moved until they would literally have to go through me to get to her. A firm barrier now in place, her grip on me loosened and she began to tremble from head to toe as she leaned back against the pillows at the head of the bed.

They’d had her flat on her back — fully prone — with both gravity and raging emotions working against her.  Swallowing my rage, I hushed, “It’s alright, I’m here now... I’m right here.”

“It hurts,” she groaned, struggling to breathe through her pain.

“I know, luv,” I murmured in Bree’s ear, then, turning to look over my shoulder, I raised my voice to address the room at large, “When did her water break?”

Phaedre and a woman I’d never met, but could only assume was the local midwife sat and blinked stupidly at me from their position at the foot of the bed, Jocasta and Lizzie standing just behind them with their mouths hanging open.

“When did her water break?!” I demanded again with greater force, making Lizzie jump.

“Just after tea, Mistress Claire… maybe two hours ago, at most,” Phaedre eventually stammered.

The foul midwife beside her came alive at this pronouncement, her cheeks flaming red as she screeched, “You are placing both Brianna and her unborn child in grave danger!”

“The hell I am!” I spat, turning to face her fully.

Jocasta and this creature were well on their way to killing both my daughter and her unborn child and I was the one endangering them?!

“I am her mother and if you think for one second that I’m going to let you lay so much as another finger on her—“

“Claire!”

My blood pressure skyrocketed as Jamie’s aunt interrupted me, her knuckles turning white as she gripped one of the four posts of the bed for support, “I will no’ have ye speakin’ to Brianna’s midw—“

“I am her midwife and I am her physician and anyone who has a problem with that can fuck the hell off!”

The room fell silent again as I leveled each and every one of them with a look that clearly said I would fight them to the death on this matter. None opened their mouth to object and so I nodded, feeling a measure of satisfaction.

“I am her mother,” I repeated, feeling the cloak of medical command settle across my shoulders once again as I addressed the midwife head on. “I know her best and I know what is best for her… Your services here are no longer required.”

The woman’s mouth opened, but I cut her off.

“No! You will get off of this bed, you will keep your bloody paws off of my daughter, and you will not so much as speak a word to her on your way out.”

Not giving anyone a chance to respond, I turned to Phaedre, “Could you fetch me a change of clothes please? And Lizzie, find Jamie and have him bring me my box… He’ll know what I mean.”

Lizzie ran for the door, calling out an eager aye mistress as she disappeared, but Phaedre remained in her place as she looked to Jocasta and then to the midwife for permission.

“Fine,” I seethed, letting them battle it out as they may. I would simply strip down and work in my shift, if it came to that.

I turned back to Bree and found her nearing the point of hyperventilation, her face as white as the bed sheets. My diverted attention had allowed her to descend into abject panic and I quickly tried to bring her back.

“Sweetie, look at me,” I pleaded, scrambling to her side.

She writhed against the pillows, curling inwards as her uterus tightened it’s iron grip. Her jaw was set and her gaze unfocused, completely absorbed in her pain.

“Look at me, Bree,” I coaxed again, my palm cupping her cheek. “You’re alright.”

I turned her face towards me, but her eyes didn’t follow to meet mine.

“Brianna Ellen, look — at — me!”

She blinked once… twice… three times and a hiccuping cry escaped her, a strangled plea for help as she latched onto me once more.

“There you go, luv,” I encouraged and helped her sit up, settling her a little more comfortably against the pillows.

“Unhand her!” the midwife shouted again. “She needs to be laying down!”

“No, she needs to breathe,” I retorted and my spirit soared as I saw the barest hint of amusement flick across Bree’s face. Leaning forward, I placed a kiss on her furrowed brow and encouraged, “Let’s take this one step at a time, alright?”

Another wordless groan was my answer and I nodded, eagerly accepting any form of communication that she could manage.

“Focus on me, luv,” I coached. “We’ll get through this one and then you can give them their marching orders… and get out of this bed, if you like.”

Bree tucked her chin as her heels dug into the mattress. I rubbed her back, murmuring encouragements as I emulated the breathing pattern I wanted her to take up.

“Good,” I praised as her contraction began to ease and she began to move ever so slightly in the right direction. “That’s the way, Bree. Deep breaths.”

She lifted her head, her eyes clear for the first time as she insisted hoarsely, “Tell me.”

“He’s alive,” I murmured and watched her sag with relief, her head snapping towards the door. I reached to take her hand, pain knifing across my heart as I added, “But he isn’t here with us… he said he needed more time.”

Bree turned back to me and I watched helplessly as she registered what exactly that entailed, her every thought parading across her face. I saw the disappointment, the betrayal, the weight of the unknown crush her into a thousand pieces of broken glass, of shattered hopes and dreams.

“We will take you home,” I assured her, “back to the ridge… where your baby can grow up knowing just how much they are loved and wanted and cared for.”

She nodded, then tipped her head back, her jaw clenching again as tears overcame her. I pulled to me, not letting her descend back into chaos, and she wrapped her arms around my neck, clinging to me as she sobbed.

“Oh, Bree,” I hushed.

How I wished we could have gotten back even just a few hours before we did… so I could have broken the news to her before she’d gone into labor, when we could have talked and cried and worked through the pain of Roger’s rejection together without having to also work through the pain of childbirth.

Rubbing her back, I began to rock back and forth, my instinctual motherly response to Bree’s tears overriding my ability to speak. My tongue was thick in my mouth, swollen with all the things I wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for, effectively choking me as I held my daughter close.

“Da,” Bree hiccuped urgently. “I need to see Da.”

“Absolutely not!” came the rather expected but still vehement objection from the midwife. “To be unconventional in your ways of midwifery is one thing, Mistress Fraser, but to allow a man into the birthing chamber is simply — not — done!”

“He is her father and if she wishes him here, she will have him,” I retorted hotly, wishing Jamie were here to remove her from the room by brute force if necessary.

What I would have given to have him by my side when Bree was born… when Faith was born. My own rush of emotions threatened to overtake me as I glanced over my shoulder to ask of Jocasta, “Would you send for him?”

“Aye… I will,” Jamie’s aunt finally replied after many moments of silence, eliciting another outburst from the fiend.

“I cannot believe that you are allowing this woman to care for your niece in such a manner, Jocasta! Welcoming her back into your home after all that she has done to you is commendable and offering refuge to her disgraced daughter is very noble of you, but I will not stand by and be party to such a catastrophe as this will surely be!”

The entire bed shook as the midwife retreated off of it, pontificating at the top of her lungs with every inch of territory she forfeited, and giving way to the rustle of skirts as Jocasta escorted her across the room and out the door.

“I’ll fetch your things, Mistress Claire,” Phaedre murmured from behind me, the mattress shifting once again as the nimble servant left us. “Is there anything else you’ll be needing?”

“No, thank you,” I assured her, finally turning when I caught a glimpse of her out the corner of my eye, and added mentally,

Only Jamie.

[ruvikkin-art]

Arthur gasped and choked as he hacked up full flowers, feeling them scratching at his throat and making it raw with the scrapes and scratches. He fell down onto his hands and knees, hacking up a mixture of purple petals and blood. Feeling his lungs filling with vines and blood he tried to scream out, try to cry out for help but his voice seemed lost and choked back with the amount of flowers.

Arthur could feel the burning in his lungs, the sure sign of the flowers tightening around his chest and heart. Beyond hope now, he was struggling to breathe and tried gasping out for anyone. Alone, he was alone, always alone and dying alone. Somewhere? He wasn’t really sure where he was, everything seemed hazy and fuzzy like it was just out of his reach. Arthur tried to remember how he got where he was, the last thing he remembered was falling asleep, and a note from Mary. Had he ridden out to see her? No he couldn’t have, he’d remember, why couldn’t he remember?

Arthur gasped and choked as he hacked up full flowers, feeling them scratching at his throat and making it raw with the scrapes and scratches. He fell down onto his hands and knees, hacking up a mixture of purple petals and blood. Feeling his lungs filling with vines and blood he tried to scream out, try to cry out for help but his voice seemed lost and choked back with the amount of flowers. Arthur pressed his hands over his chest and rolled onto his back, gasping as he could feel the flowers in his chest moving and writhing. That wasn’t right, he shouldn’t be able to feel them so violently like that.

Arthur took another sharp breath before he felt his chest ripping, he looked down and saw the flowers growing out of him. He tried screaming again. The flowers burst forwards and he saw a spray of blood, the vines out of his body. Arthur felt he was going to die, he was going to pass out, he couldn’t breathe-

Arthur gasped and sat up quickly, coughing loudly he quickly covered his mouth as he felt a few dainty petals fall into his hands. He was back in camp, back in his cot where he remembered falling asleep. The camp around him seemed to get quiet for a moment but everything picked back up with relative ease. Arthur felt his chest, everything was fine and normal. A nightmare, of course he’d have a god damn nightmare like that, violent and so realistic.

He sat up and let his legs over the edge of his cot, sitting while he took a deep breath and tried to settle from the violent dream. Arthur grabbed his journal and decided to write everything down as best he could before he forgot anything. In the midst of writing he could hear Charles let out a grunt and then heard a thunk. Glancing up Arthur saw Charles not far off, chopping wood so early in the morning. At least he hoped it was morning and that he hadn’t slept through anything important.

Arthur tried to concentrate on his writing, but every time he heard the axe hit against wood he couldn’t help but look up and watch Charles. Flipping to a new page in his journal Arthur decided he’d quickly sketch out the scene that would just be burned into his memory anyway. He tried to not stare, tried to keep his eyes down and his journal up like he wasn’t about to hack petals thanks to the view. He glanced up once and caught Charles eyes, the man just watching him. Arthur didn’t even noticed he had stopped chopping wood he’d been so invested in his journal. When their eyes locked Charles quickly turned his head as if he hadn’t been staring, and just finished up chopping wood before picking up what he’d done and carrying it off to the wood pile.

Arthur hid his face as he felt himself get hot, and he hacked up another few flower petals. He wondered how long Charles had been watching him sketching, all of a sudden he felt it was almost too obvious that Arthur had been drawing him. With the way Arthur was facing where Charles had just been and how into the drawing he’d been to even notice Charles stopped- even when he’d glanced up multiple times. He quickly put the journal away and stuffed it inside his bag, getting up from his cot now. Arthur heard Charles click his tongue followed by the sound of horse hooves, meaning he was out of camp again. He let out a sigh, damn him for being in an out so often.

Arthur could still smell some of Pearsons cooking and made his way over, looking down into the pot to see if it was ready, or maybe had been ready hours ago, or if it was still in a process. Unable to tell Arthur decided he’d try a taste, before he just figured it’d be safer to go hunt himself a deer and cook some venison elsewhere, bring back some meat maybe if Pearson wanted any.

Then of course, he remembered what he’d told Hosea the night before about talking to Charles. He mulled over asking Charles to go hunting with him and then thought the amount of food Charles had brought back the night before. Maybe he could ask him for help with the bow? The practice would be good, and it’d get him and Charles alone out of camp.

With a heavy sign Arthur grabbed himself a cup of coffee, sipping at it as he made his way over to the horses. He was a little surprised to see Kieran working with the horses, grooming them and feeding them, but he guessed that was the only job Dutch could think to give him. When Kieran saw Arthur coming he jumped, stepping back from Arthurs horse like he’d been caught doing something bad. Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle and down the rest of his coffee, attatching his mug back onto his hip.

“Easy there O’Driscoll.” Arthur walked to his horse, giving her a pat on the neck. “Dutch give you the horses to look after?”

“Y- Yessir.” Kieran nodded and grabbed a brush and began working on one of the other horses. “Doesn’t want me outta camp, but I- I’d feel bad just sittin around.”

“Well…” Arthur looked over his horse and smiled a bit. “Good work. Bout time someone was set to watchin’ them.” Kierans brows shot up, like he had been expecting Arthur to yell at him or rile him up about a fleck of dirt on the horse. Arthur climbed onto his horse, petting her again he turned around to leave when he heard Johns voice calling after him.

“Hey Arthur! Wanna talk to you.” John was holding something in his hand, a paper, and Arthur felt a slight bit of dread as to what it could be. “Where you off to in such a rush?” Arthur opened his mouth and then shut it, he’d wanted to talk to Charles but didn’t need John to know that at the moment, so he tried to think of something else to tell him.

“Just got business, what do you want anyway?” John scoffed and got on his own horse. “John-”

“I’ll just ride with you for a bit, besides Abigail is mad at me bout’ somethin and I don’t want to hang around here. Whatever business you got I’ll be outta your hair before you get to it.” Arthur sighed and shrugged, leaving the camp along with John, not like he really had any reason to tell John to fuck off anyway.

John was telling him about a train, something they could hit easily and make Dutch proud for hitting up to help them get back on their feet., and John had come up with a nice plan. Get a wagon with oil, lead it onto the tracks, and pray the train did stop or else it’d turn into a hell of a thing. Arthur was impressed with the way John had planned it out already.

“We’re gonna need guns, ammunition, and some dynamite to open the train up.”

“I can head into town and get everything, gotta head down for Abigail anyway. Don’t ask.” Arthur snorted and reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it quickly.

“Thought she was mad at you John.”

“Doesn’t mean she doesn’t have things she needs.” John eyed up the cigarette in Arthurs hand so Arthur pulled the pack back out and handed it to him. “Thanks. Why’re you smokin’ anyway, ain’t you got flowers in your lungs?”

“Hosea told me it kills it, I don’t know, don’t really care either way.” Arthur took a long drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out towards John. “I’ll go get that oil wagon, I know just the place.” “If you could take it up north, a little abandoned shack near Dewberry creek and leave it hidden up near there that’d work fine. I’ll leave ya then, let me know when you get that Oil wagon taken care of.” John turned his horse around and rode off in the direction of town.

Arthur clicked his tongue and had his horse trot along the dirt path while he puffed on a cigarette. He could track down Charles and talk to him, but something told him that’d probably just make the man more put off than anything else. With a sigh Arthur stubbed out the cigarette on his boot before flicking it away and, against his better judgement, decided to go see what it was Mary wanted now.

````````

Arthur hadn’t seen Mary since her dad had decided that Arthur wasn’t ‘good enough’ for her. So seeing her open up the door, still looking young and well, it made his heart lurch. Not in the same way it had years ago and not the same way it did not when he saw Charles, but still there was somethin. It was awkward to say the least, he’d given her a ring and tried to prove himself to her father but she had turned away Arthur as the man he was and gotten married to someone else.

“I heard you and your friends was around… I…” She seemed just as awkward talking to him as Arthur felt.

“Okay. Where's uh.. Whats his face?” Arthur never bothered to learn Marys husbands name, only knew her last name had changed from the letter she’d written him.

“Died. Happened a while ago. Pneumonia.” Arthur took in a deep inhale at her words and got a bad feeling in his gut.

“Bad business… So you been made a widow and you come lookin for me is that it?” Arthur felt like he should just walk away, just leave her now on her porch without another word- but he stayed put for some reason.

“No, it ain’t like that Arthur.” She seemed taken back and offended at his words. “I, its my family. I need your help. Its my little brother, Jamie.”

“Your family needs my help? Family that always looked down on me? I liked Jamie but Mary.” Arthur shook his head and turned away, leaning on the fence of the front porch. “What’d’ya need anyway?”

“Little Jamies joined the Chelonians, that strange religious order. They’re rough Arthur, they’ll kill him. I need your help. You’re the only person he’d listen to.” Arthur ran his hand down his face, he knew it was stupid of him to come here, with so much happening and so much he could be doing rather than stand here and listen to Mary plead him.

“So, I’m too rough to marry into your family, but its’ okay to ask me to help in saving your family? That it?”

“I’m sorry. I understand if you don’t want to help me but.. I think of you often.” Arthur was about ready to roll his eyes and walk off- he tried to marry her years ago and here she came crawling back into his life when he had someone else. Or, he hoped he’d have someone else if Charles would accept him. He could feel his throat tighten and coughed into his fist, Marys expression growing soft. “Arthur-” He held his hand up and took a step away from her, spitting out some petals over the railing. “Oh Arthur…”

“Mary, long time ago I woulda helped ya. It ain’t worth it, ‘m sorry. Let Jamie go and live his life, or go get him yourself, ask someone else. I can’t.” Arthur walked off the porch of the house and climbed back onto his horse, he looked back to Mary who was standing sadly on her porch watching him. Without saying anything else Arthur quickly rode off, not wanting to feel any guilt in watching her much longer. He could feel his chest hurting in the same way it did when she’d told him goodbye all that time ago, and felt like it’d be the last time.

Arthur had a promise to keep to Hosea though. He had to talk to Charles.

``````

Arthur had stopped in Valentine on the way back to camp, getting himself a very much needed haircut and a shave before he had made his way back to camp. It had to be around noon now which left him with plenty of time to get to Charles and talk to him before he needed to get the oil wagon for John. When he rode back into camp he’d scanned the area, catching Hoseas eyes before Hosea nodded over to Charles tent with a smile. He took in a deep breath and head to the tent, seeing Charles sharpening a knife Arthur figured that’d be a good conversation starter.

“What you preparing for?” Charles head snapped up like he hadn’t heard Arthur coming and he grinned.

“The greatest of gifts.” Charles leaned back on his crate and looked the sharp knife over.

“An unguarded stagecoach?” Arthur put his hands on his belt buckle and he could see Charles huff at him.

“No you simple minded fool. Bison.” Charles stood and grabbed his gun. “Theres some over in the plains I believe. I saw a couple a long way off earlier.” Charles began walking off and Arthur let out a quick sigh.

“Well good luck.” Arthur scratched at his chin, figuring Charles would want to hunt alone since thats how he seemed to prefer it.

“You want to come with me? I can show you how to hunt one.” Arthur blinked in surprise, he wasn’t expecting Charles to invite him along on a hunting trip with something he was inexperienced with.

“Sure, why not?” He tried to sound melo about it, not sound like his stomach was doing flips at the thought of being alone on a hunting trip with Charles- and like he wasn’t trying to not hack up petals then and there.

The two of them head to their horses and Arthur got on a little too quickly. He looked up to see Hosea and Dutch watching them. Hosea gave Arthur a nod and a tip of his hat while Dutch just grinned at them. Arthur waved to them before he set off riding with Charles out of the camp. Arthur was expecting a silent ride most of the way, or at least until they got closer to the plains but Charles began talking when they were out of the camp and away from everyone.

He began talking about bison, how his mother told him about them and what the bison were used for. Arthur listened to every word with interest, he seemed enthusiastic about it at least and if Arthur had known earlier that he could get Charles to go out hunting with him and talk to him this easily, he’d have done it days ago. Listening to Charles talking to him was like music, Arthur hadn't noticed before but Charles had a nice voice to listen to, then again everything about Charles was nice. It wasn't until Charles slowed down and gave him a funny look that Arthur realized he'd been staring and zoning out. Arthur cleared his throat and looked away from him out of embarrassment.

"I said, You must be tired. Saw you come back to camp late last night and you were up early this morning. Dutch has you running thin doesn't he?" Oh, Charles had asked him a question and Arthur was too caught up in his own thoughts to hear him. Arthur nodded and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well you know how it is. Everyone has to pull their weight. If it weren't for you I'd probably be doing all the huntin as well. Youve been pullin in good hauls for us, Pearson must be over the moon."

“He is.” Charles slowed down again, pointing off to the distance where a herd of bison stood. “Look, over there. Incredible aren’t they? We should only kill one of them, I’ll ring them in and you can bring one down. Clean as you can okay?” Arthur nodded and pulled his gun out, showing Charles that he was ready before Charles spurred his horse forwards and rushed to the bison.

Arthur was quick to follow, keeping an eye on Charles enough to see one of the bison moving away from the herd which seemed as good a sign as any to go after it. He held his shotgun up, aimed, and fired into its head three times which downed the bison easily. Charles seemed impressed and pulled his horse up near Arthur while the remaining bison rushed off.

“Well done. Alright, skin and butcher it. The horns too, it can all be used.” Arthur jumped off his horse and tried to stifle a cough as Charles told him he’d done a good job. He was quick to pull out his knife and get to work on the bison, hoping the smell of the dead animal would remind his brain now is not a good time to be hacking up petals. Didn’t work though as Charles ‘well done’ rang in his ears in the silence and he ended up having to turn away from the bison to cough. Charles raised a brow at him but didn’t say anything, instead choosing to look away as if Arthur was having a private moment. It made his heart clench a little seeing Charles turn away instead of ask if he was alright but when he saw the shift in Charles expression from he figured something was off.

Arthur finished skinning the bison in a quick amount of time, loading it up onto the back of his horse and wrapping up some of the meat to put into his satchel. “Good job. Mount up, theres something I want to check out. Charles still looked serious and Arthur didn’t waste any time climbing up onto his horse, giving her a pat on the back of her neck for good measure since he was sure his weight plus the bison skin wasn’t her favorite thing.

“Okay, where are we goin’?” “Thought I saw some scavenger birds over here, wanted to see what attracted them.” Arthur could see the birds off in the distance and he followed Charles over. Not even that far away he could already smell something rotting in the heat and it made him wrinkle his nose. He was going to comment on the stench when they both stopped- two bison lying on the ground dead. “Bison, shot and left for dead it looks like.” Charles tone changed as he was obviously angry at this.

“Why would someone do that?” Arthur meant it as a serious question, even though he knew Charles wouldn’t be able to answer him.

“I don’t know, I see some tracks heading in that direction. I say we follow them.”

“Alright, lead the way.” Charles scowled and head off in the direction of the tracks, Arthur riding next to him. He saw how Charles looked- angry and concerned at the same time- tried to think of something to make him feel better at the situation. “Could it have been an animal?”

“No they’d been shot. I just don’t know why anyone would just leave them here to rot like that.” Arthur kept his mouth shut, he figured there was nothing he could say to better the situation at the moment and Charles was focused on the tracking anyway, conversation wasn’t his top priority.

They rode finding another dead bison not far up where the others were, Charles commented how this one looked fresher and Arthur agreed. Arthur noticed a camp and jumped off his horse, walking over to it to look it over and check if anything was there. The only thing he noticed was the logs still warm which means they couldn’t have gone far. The two of them rushed off, Charles still leading the way by following the trail- Arthur could barely see it but he hadn’t been doing as much tracking as Charles ever was.

Riding their horses up to the top of the hill, Charles pointed out some smoke which meant another camp and they both were ready to head down and see who had killed the bison. It meant something to Charles, the bison were important to him, and if Arthur could make him a little happier by helping him figure out why they were getting shot then he’d do so.

“Bastards, just killing for fun.”

“You think we can talk?” Arthur scoffed which earned him a glare from Charles.

“I don’t kill for fun. I kill when I need to.” Charles voice had a bite to it and Arthur pursed his lips together to keep from saying anything to make him angrier. Charles began riding faster, calling out to Arthur that he saw more dead bison. They made a beeline to the camp, with Arthur arriving after Charles.

It was rare when Charles got angry. Usually he was more reserved, kept to himself but didn’t lash out at anyone if they didn’t deserve it. Seeing Charles get off his horse with his hand on his gun sent a chill up Arthurs spine. Arthur got off his own horse and stayed behind Charles, not too close since he figured it best to keep some distance between them.

Two men were sitting at the camp and before either of them could get a word out Charles spoke. “Did you fools shoot those bison?”

“Whats your problem?” One of the men scoffed, so full of himself it made Arthur scowl.

“I said did you fools shoot those bison?” Charles stood up straight, glaring down at them in anger. The men stood up and Arthur put his hand on his gun belt just in case.

“Calm down you black or red bastard, whatever the fuck you are.” That was it, that was Charles tipping point and he shouted at them this time. Arthur wanted to reach out and put his hand on Charles back, try to make him feel any better but he held himself back- he didn’t need any of Charles anger to be directed at him. “Did you shoot them!?”

“Yes we did, and we’ll shoot you too if you don’t get. What business is it of yours what we-” The man didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Charles pulled his gun out and shot him. Arthur flinched when Charles shot him, and of course he felt his chest tighten again, like he was proud of Charles for shooting the man. He had to step back and cough into his jacket, but that didn’t seem to bother Charles and the other man was too busy trying to not piss himself to care.

“Its that business of mine!” Arthur turned and spat out some petals, finally calming his lungs down enough he could step in a little.

“Good god you’re crazy!” The man was scared and began to beg for his life. “Look, I got a family, don’t shoot me.” Charles looked like he was ready to shoot him and Arthur stepped in, grabbing the man by the front of his shirt to punch him in the face before Charles could tell him no. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Why are you shootin those bison and leaving them to rot?” Arthur punched him again and the man spat at him, trying to play an innocent card like he hadn’t done it. Arthur was having none of it and hit him again. He couldn’t see Charles, but since he wasn’t saying anything Arthur figured he wasn’t about to step in and stop him. “Tell us or you’re dead.” Arthur hit him again and the guy finally broke down.

“To make it look like it was indians. We were paid to, just following orders.”

“Just kill him Arthur.” The mans eyes widened in fear and Arthur wrapped his hands around the mans neck, pushing him down and choking him to death as Charles had told him to. He wiped his hands off and turned back to Charles, who relaxed a little bit when he saw the man was dead. “Thank you… I’ve seen enough of this, I’m heading back. You coming?”

“Yeah, I got stuff to get to Pearson that I don’t want in my bag much longer.”

Arthur went back to his horse and mounted it, Charles was quick to ride off out of the area and Arthur followed behind him. Neither of them said a word on the way back to camp and Arthur figured it was for the best to keep his mouth shut as well. They rode back into camp, Arthur hitching his horse near Charles before he removed the bison pelt. Charles was about to walk away and Arthur stopped him quickly.

“Hey, uh. Listen that was uh. Real nice huntin’ with you. If you don’t mind me comin’ along it’d be nice to hunt with you more often. I need practice with my bow an’ my trackin anytime you wanna help..” Arthur tried to not sound too awkward and he hoped Charles wasn’t mad enough to just shove him away. Instead Charles just gave him a soft smile and a nod before turning and walking away. Arthur took a deep breath and felt his heart race with the smile, he just hoped he wasn’t grinning too much when he head over to Pearson and dropped off the pelt and meat.

Arthur made his way over to his own tent and Dutch was quick to walk over and join him. “You have a good time Arthur?”

“Sure Dutch. Killed some poachers that were down there killin bison. I’d uh, not talk to Charles for awhile if you value your life. He’s not real happy right now.” Dutch nodded, taking a puff of his cigar before speaking again.

“Good, when you’re rested up from hunting I need you to do me a favor. I need you to go get Micah. I know you broke him out of the jail, but we need him back at camp.” Arthur let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes. “Arthur, I know hes not your favorite but hes still good. Unless he cut and run from us then we need him back. All hands on deck right now, regardless of your opinions on him.”

“Alright Dutch. I’ll go ‘n get him. But I got other stuff I need to do as well, but I’ll get him back for you.” Dutch gave him a smile and walked away back to his own tent.

Arthur rubbed his face and shook his head, looking up to the sun he figured he should ride out and get the oil wagon for John before anything else happened that would stop him from going tonight. Micah could wait.

[kemurai6-dominion-of-dust]

Echoes (RDR2 Arthur/F!Reader)

This kinda showed up after playing that one mission. You'll know which one.

-*-*-

You snuggled up tight against the furnace that you called Arthur, his weight comforting next to you. It had been nearly impossible to sleep next to him on his cot but you both managed. A situation of either sleeping on your sides and cuddling or spooning to practically laying on one another. The latter usually after the post coitus sessions that befell you lately.

However, since his return from the O'driscoll's kidnapping and his recovery, Arthur hadn't been his usual self. Sure, you've given up on sleeping on the cot with him; the injury was a messy one that you insisted on not distressing. He was stubborn though, having you still invade his cot on the other side. Susan wasn't thrilled when coming upon you both one night as she smacked your shoulder. Yet she acquiesced once she knew it wouldn't even change the sleeping situation. You made sure he was comfortable, hand tucked to his chest and with the most portion of the blankets.

The dream you were having was a wishful one, the two of you out of the gang, a little cabin in the middle of nowhere, some horses and cattle. It was wonderful when he would wrap his arms about your middle as you watched your two children playing with the dog.

His grip tightens, pulling you out of that little piece of heaven and back into your shared cot. The smell of woodsmoke and a touch of rain in the air. You blink at the man beside you. In the dark, you eye him suspiciously as he was also prone to starting a 'session' in the middle of the night.

He's not awake nor aware of his crushing hold on your midsection. Your brow furrows at the set of his jaw, the clenched shut eyes, the slick of sweat on his forehead.

"Arthur," you say, tugging your arm up to cup his too warm cheek.

He flinches at your feather light touch, head shaking slightly. He's so caught up in his dream; a nightmare plagues him so.

You touch him again, "Arthur," you say a little louder and closer to his ear. Last thing you want is to wake the whole camp.

He jolts awake, catching himself quickly on the edge of the cot before he was to fall out of it.

It would have been funny any other time if it weren't for his wide roving eyes and hitching breaths. He didn't seem to see you; images flitting in his own vision as you lay beside him.

Still, you are hesitant before touching his stubbled cheek again, "Arthur? Arthur?"

He blinks, finally seeing he was in his bed, within the camp of Clemens Point. Those blue-green eyes latching onto the pictures nailed to the wagon behind you. His focus returning slowly once he saw you beside him, hand still against his cheek.

Recognition fires in his brain as he slumps heavily against your palm, eyes closing against the touch. He takes a few shallow breaths before they stretch into longer ones, his breath warm on your skin.

You say nothing while he recovers his place, brows creasing at the distress he had.

Eventually his own large hand encompasses your wrist, "sorry," he mutters as his eyes dart to your own and back to the covers, " 'm sorry ta wake you."

You shake your head, "don't apologize for that."

You scoot a little closer as his head dips, his eyes avoiding yours. You can feel his body shaking, it's barely perceptible.

"I'm fine. Go back to sleep," he breathes.

"Are you?" You ask, brushing his hair back.

He remains mute, yet you can see his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulps. He doesn't seem fine to you with his pallor gone pale. Still you brush at his hair, as it has gotten longer, his scruff a tad more scraggly.

"You can tell me you know," you say. "I love you, Arthur. You know that, right?"

He nods, the firelight catching in his hair and turning it golden. It's enough to see him by as you watch.

"Don't know why ya do," he mumbles, "af'er what they did ta me."

You've seen the bullet wound in his shoulder, you've seen worse than that. You dealt plenty of those during Blackwater and beyond.

Yet how he said it, with a hint of disgust, you felt your stomach drop. As Arthur was gone for nearly a week, you didn't want to think that happened to him. He was so in and out of conciousness with Mrs. Grimshaw and Hosea tending to him. You only were allowed by his side after the fact.

Yet you stayed silent, laying quietly beside him as his breaths evened out. Your hand drops to his now healed shoulder as it traces over the fresh starburst scar; he frowns at the touch.

"It aches," he murmured as he rolled it carefully as if to make a point. "Dinnt wanna wake you up this way."

"Nonsense," you kiss his nose, making him blush.

That little sign of affection you gave freely seemed to open those locked gates of his as he tried to work out his thoughts. Arthur Morgan was such a hard nut to crack in your early courtship and still gave you a rough time.

You press yourself closer as his grip tightens, "I...he...damn, darlin'. I'm...I can't..."

Your heart sinks because you know what that rat bastard did. You knew, you knew what Arthur was going through more than most people. It had you clutching him to your bare chest and absorbing his fevered warmth into your bones. Your lips pressed soothing kisses to his hair, forehead anywhere you could reach.

His quaking body grasped yours as if it were a lifeline, face hidden against your collarbone. You felt warmth against your chest as he silently cried against you. It broke your heart, a strong man such as he suffering.

Yet you held him as one would a child needing consoling. Your fingers rubbing his broad back and kind words from your mouth; anything to take the pain away.

How long you remained this way mattered not, inside your shared tent, on that tiny cot, the rest of the world could wait. But eventually his shaking subsided. The terror he faced, while still there, was pushed back a distance. He brought his head up to kiss you so tenderly it left you breathless.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered once the kiss broke.

You could only smile. "You deserve more."

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Diamonds made of Dragon Tears -  Ashratherose

*** Epilogue ***

It'd been a little over a year since Eren had last stepped foot in Mitras. The day they'd finally left the castle, both Armin and Mikasa had pleaded with him to stay, but he couldn't. It was time to leave, to start a real life with Levi outside the city and despite all the tears, he was excited. Excited for a future for his family where they'd no longer be expected to be anyone but themselves. It hadn't been easy to reestablish themselves, but the plot of land they wanted had been transferred into their family name, Armin making sure no matter what came that their family line would always own the plot a few hundred metres down from where construction of the orphanage began the following summer. Their own adventures with building were a fiasco. Having the space of the tower had been nice, but now he had children to think of, and with the clutch on the way, Eren only wanted enough space for their small family. His own little cottage, where he'd be playing housekeeper and wife. Levi felt it should be bigger for when guests came, which resulted in a compromise. Levi's study was built to back the nursery, with space for a spare bed should guests come. Using his magic to raise the walls from the ground, he'd felt like he was cheating, simply turning up to the middle of nowhere and magicking their house into existence. The walls he could do. The plumbing... not so much, and his skills with roof making... were nonexistent. Well, they existed, they were just slightly crooked... Levi laughing far too hard at his attempts, though after promised he'd take care of it, it was nearly a month of leaking ceilings before he did, and that was because his pride wouldn't accept help from the team of builders Armin had hired for the orphanage. They'd had a great laugh too. Much to Eren's embarrassment. It wasn't like he knew the building crew would be coming out to survey the orphanage site before they'd fixed things up.

Yet, despite all that, Eren was having the time of his life. Luca loved the space, happy to run around and annoy anything that moved. They'd brought chicken with them when they'd left the city, only Luca didn't know they weren't for playing. More than a few sent to early deaths by the dragon trying to befriend them. Not making the same mistake twice, Levi built a barn to the right of the house, space outside the structure for their horses, which gradually grew to house their cow, and then the replacement chickens Farlan and Isabel brought out with them on their first visit. Up from the barn, Levi built a greenhouse for his herb collection, which Eren left to the professionals when it came to the glass fit out of the space. Gradually, over the next six months, their home came together. Levi's vegetable patch requiring a small infusion of magic secretly more than once. His husband tried his hardest, but... Eren didn't know he kept killing everything. You sew the seeds. You water everything in. You weed and watch it grow. Somehow things went from being green one day to yellow and brown withered sticks of sadness the next. After the third failed crop, the Omega couldn't let his alpha continue to suffer. Denying all knowledge of the magical intervention, yet they both knew it was there, but neither of them spoke of it. Especially when comparing Levi's vegetable patch with Eren's small orchard. They'd purchased a variety of fruits and vegetables when leaving Mitras in an attempt to stock up, which didn't happen with Luca around, so Eren had sewn the remnants and now was the proud owner of some very impressive apple trees that were starting to encroach on the left side of their cottage. Luca especially appreciated being able to steal apples when he felt, though most of his time was still spent chasing after Viren. The pair of them... he loved them... but they were as thick as thieves. If they could be in out, out of it, covered in it, or hiding it, they were. Viren's first steps had been at the castle, their pup then deciding to make them wait a week before trying again... and after that... he never stopped moving. Each time Eren took his eyes off him, he was off. More than once Luca had to hook him by his nappy to prevent his escape, and more than once he'd turned around for what seemed half a second only to turn back to find Luca covered in Viren's food... mostly thrown at him. Each day his son looked more like Levi, right down to the look of annoyance they'd both share when scolded over spilling water from the bath. Their house might not be the nicest, but Eren was extremely proud of it... once things had been straightened out. He loved to watch Levi and Viren in the garden, his husband would sit their son in his lap to pull weeds, or when he Levi would put Viren on the back of their cow. He honestly didn't know who looked more confused, but each time Viren would giggle and scream for his "daddy". Most of the time the pair were together outside, Luca would inside with him. Being too pregnant to pick him, Luca had had to conquer climbing up on the kitchen bench on his own. A space definitely not made for their son, but mercifully his growth had slowed down so he could only just wedge himself there, ready for pats, kisses, rubs and most importantly leftover food. Levi was just as bad when he was cooking. As his pregnancy had progressed, his husband treated him like a princess while fucking him like a whore. Every single chore below waist level was taken care of by his alpha, and every single surface in their house had been christened at least once... Armin claiming he was traumatised for life from overhearing them when he and Mikasa came to visit for Eren's birthday. The joke was on him, they'd fallen into bed on the spare bed Armin was using earlier the same day... then we're forced to strip the whole bed with how carried away they'd been.

Now... now he was regretting that sex ever existed. Levi had gone on the fortnightly run to the city for supplies, and almost the moment his mate had left, his waters had broken. Entertaining a toddler while cursing contractions and attempting to control his magic, was not making for a fun morning at all. With Viren on his hip, Eren was making breakfast when the telltale sudden short gushing feel had come, then the telltale trickle as the warmth spread down his inner thighs. Levi hadn't wanted to leave, teasing him over how sweet he'd smelt that morning as they lazed in bed basking in each other's warmth. Assuring him he'd be fine, he'd waved his husband off. Swearing without thinking, his son had promptly echoed his cry of "fuck", in his cute little voice... all of which had brought him to still standing in the kitchen attempting to make Viren's breakfast while Luca clawed at the kitchen door, probably trying to attempt to free himself so he could go find Levi and not have to deal with him in labour alone. With tears rolling down his face, rising panic and contractions that he was sure he was never going to get used to, all he wanted to do was curl up in their nest and cry until Levi came home.

* Reaching the end of the road to their property, Levi didn't feel right. Eren had assured him that he was alright, that nothing would happen while he was in town, and that nothing would happen for a few more weeks. Yet, the feeling in his gut was telling him otherwise. Faced with either riding home to find Eren perfectly fine and laughing in his face, or heading to town only to come home to some kind of emergency, he knew which he'd take. Unhitching the wagon from his horse, it was a choice that took no thought at all. The past year and a half hadn't all been sun and roses, in the early days he wasn't sure how they didn't kill each other, then there were Eren's nightmares, his nightmares, a leaking roof and lack plumbing... some days it was a damn miracle they'd even got their house together in the end. Mounting his horse, the filly shifted skittishly, barely used for much more than a cart horse. Nudging his heels into her sides, she reared, nearly throwing him in the process. God. He missed his old horse. Holding his reins tighter, he urged her into a gallop, kicking up dust recklessly as he raced to return home.

Leaving his horse next to the front door, Levi didn't bother taking off his muddied boots as he jogged into their house, Eren would probably yell at him, but that was a discussion for another time. The moment he'd entered their yard he could feel his omega's pain. His gut feeling proving right again. Almost breaking the kitchen door down, he bellowed "Eren!" Only to realise Eren was still in the kitchen, Viren on his hip as he leaned heavily against the kitchen counter, Luca chirping and trilling as he nudged at Levi's legs "Levi... it's... it's started... I'm sorry..." What. Wait... oh... oh fuck... rushing to his side, he lifted Viren off Eren's hip "Ok. It's a bit early, but it's ok. What do you need?" Eren let out a long breath "I need to shower. Viren and Luca need breakfast..." "Ok... sh... sugar. Ok" Piping up, Viren smacked him with his hand "Fck" Blinking at his boy, he then shot Eren an accusing look "I didn't mean to. My waters broke and it slipped out... you'd be swearing too if you looked like someone had stuffed you with melons" By a year, Eren had looked like he was well and truly stuffed, by 13 months he was a horny mess with constant back pain. 15 months he looked like he couldn't get any damn bigger without physically bursting, it'd eased a little but he was well and truly bred to the brim "Let me get the boys settled. I don't want you getting in and out the bath on your own" "Mmm... mmm... ok... why is it that the contractions are always worse than the pushing part?" The pushing part was the part that had him worried. The contractions didn't cause Eren to shit blood or spend weeks torn and hurting... "Levi, don't you dare go pale like that. This is happening. It's going to take a few hours, but this is happening" "Sorry. You're right. Whatever you need" Giving him a pained smile, Eren pushed himself up to stand, his hands going to his hips as he whined softly in discomfort "Shower, and you'll need to write to Historia. She's supposed to be coming next week to stay, but fuck being in labour for that long" "Then... nest?" Their nest had gone up nearly a month and a half ago, Eren blushing adorably when Levi had sprung him layering his clothes into their sheets and furs "Barn... need to organise the barn..." Out of concern for their house, they'd made space in the outer half of the barn where the hay usually lived. There was no way Eren could give birth anally with the size of the eggs he was carrying "Ok. Breakfast for the boys, shower and barn" "What did you do with the horse and cart?" "Well..." "I married an idiot. You feed the kids, I'm going to shower" "You're not getting in alone" "There's a chair. I'll be fine" "Eren..." Raising his scolding finger at him, Levi swallowed down a smile "Don't give that. I was freaking out until you walked through that door. You're here now... don't... don't make me think I have to go through this alone" Reaching out, Levi wrapped an arm around his omega "You're not alone. You're not. I could feel something was wrong. I couldn't go to town because I was so worried about you... I'm here now... you're not alone" Eren smelt intoxicating, Levi forced to pull away "You're ok, Sweet Boy. You're ok. I've got the boys, you shower and I'll be right in"

Luca wouldn't settle, for the first time that Levi could remember the little dragon didn't want his food. He was still trying to nudge and rub against Levi's legs, pushing him towards the bathroom door, only for a crashing noise to come from the direction of the bathroom. Yelling at Luca to look after Viren, Levi ran straight into the kitchen door in his hurry to reach Eren, grazing himself impressively on the wall as he then tried to get through the door before it was open enough. Striding through to the bathroom, he found the shower rack had broken, causing the commotion. Eren was sitting in the shower chair he'd insisted on leaving in there given how helpful it'd been last time, trying to pick things up with his toes "What are you doing?" "I tried a little magic... and the rack fell down" "You scared the shit out of me. I thought I was rushing in here to find you on the floor" "I'm fine. My magic's just... off" "That's it. Shower time is over" His instincts couldn't take it "I only just got in!" "I can't... you can bath... but I can't..." Eren's face softened, Levi, realising he was tearing up. Fuck. He'd forgotten to write to Historia and now his alpha was getting the better of him, not wanting anyone close to Eren at all "I'm ok. But if you want me to bath, you kind of need to help me?" "Sorry. I..." "Levi, it's ok. We talked about this. I'm going to be ok... it's going to be ok. Here, come here. Luca can watch Viren" It wasn't ok. Viren's birth had been hard... he'd truly thought Eren was going to die. Catching him watching him one night, Eren had drawn his fears out, holding him as he snivelled pathetically in fear of losing his husband "I'm sorry" "It's ok. Birth is scary. I'm scared too... but we have a few hours. My contractions aren't that close yet. Now, come bath in my juices with me" "That sounds revolting" "You're lucky. I'm sure my mucus plug..." The colour drained further from Levi's face "I don't think I want to know" "Probably not..."

It wasn't his fault they ended up going for it like rabbits in the bathroom. One minute he was crying and Eren was crying, then Eren was in his lap and crying for a different reason. The only small mercy was that he didn't knot his mate, instead, he slipped out at the last moment and had to deal with his omega pouting at him over it, despite the fact he'd come twice as it was. Nuzzling into him, Eren sighed softly against his cheek "I need to shift soon. I won't be able to talk to you" "So soon?" "Mmm. My magic's already playing up" "I'm not ready for this. I don't know how to... what to..." "Levi, you're going to be great. We've talked about this, and it's going to be easier as a dragon. Remember? I told you I'll write if something's wrong" A sketch with a claw not writing. What if Eren couldn't change back...? "I don't think I can do this alone. I know you said to write to Historia, but... my alpha... I'm a failure as a mate" "You're not a failure. We know how screwed up instincts can be. I trust you. You're my husband and I trust you. Can you bring the boys out to sit for a while? After I've shifted? Luca can handle Viren, but I need to know they're both ok" "I..." He didn't know what to say. It was absolutely horrible. He adored his boys, but Eren was all he could think of "You can do this. You did this last time" "And you bled. You bled and you hurt for weeks..." "But I recovered. And look at Viren. Our baby. Every single day I thank the gods for him. I thank you for him. You're letting your fear do a me" "You're saying I'm spiralling?" "You are. It's time to get out. Can you bring the furs from our nest? I want your scent" "My scared scent?" "Your scent is still yours. You're going to get through this" "I'm supposed to say that to you" "We'll get through this, Levi. Just you wait until you see how many eggs you've knocked into me" Apparently, there was a chance of unfertilised eggs having not been absorbed completely and may be birthed. Not that he was going to be able to tell the difference. The nursery had been set up with a crib loaded with furs to settle their clutch into... but would one crib be enough? His mate wasn't... he hadn't seen his toes or his junk in the last 9 months... "You're spiralling. Here, I'm done soaking. Help me up"

Luca disappeared the moment Levi opened the kitchen door to retrieve everything Eren had asked for. His breakfast still untouched, while Viren had enjoyed himself by the look of it, his mashed apple smeared across the boy's face, hands, arms... the floor. The cupboard... Luca had obviously helped their toddler with the mess, before abandoning him to take all the blame and leaving Levi to clean it all up. If Eren saw the mess, he'd probably break down into tears then try to clean it all up instead of fussing over where he wanted to give birth. The stables hadn't been Levi's first choice. He'd wanted Eren in a soft bed, warm and safe... then his omega pointed out that he needed to be in his dragon form, and that he'd lost control of his magic last time and that he liked their small cottage in one piece, and he'd folded like a deck of cards as he agreed to everything Eren wanted. Anything to get him through this alive and safe... even if it cost them the clutch in the process.

Making it outside, Eren was sitting on a bail of hay, Luca standing next to him. Viren running to his brother, rather than his mother as he realised his best friend was right in front of him "Sorry. Daddy gave him mashed apple when he should have given him anything else" "It's fine. It gave Luca and me a chance to talk. He's scared, but he doesn't want to leave me. He's such a sweet boy" "He is. Now, I have all the blankets you want. Where should I place them?" "I was thinking of laying down with my head on the hay. I'll be on my side, so it'll be better to have them near my nose" "And you're going to shift soon?" Eren nodded "Yeah. It might help with the contractions too. I didn't miss them" "I... are you sure? So soon?" "Levi, I'll be ok. Luca won't leave my side, he's made that clear. When the... birth actually starts, he's going to play his part by watching Viren" It was his job to be by Eren's side. Luca was his damn son, not their baby sitter. He shouldn't have to be strong for his baby brother and his father who was having a miniature breakdown over Eren being so pained and in such a vulnerable position. Headbutting Eren lightly, Luca started licking at his cheek as Eren wrapped his arms around him "Ok. Yes. You're staying with me. Mummy isn't making you go away baby boy, and at the end of this, you're going to have more siblings to play with. You and Viren. You're my big baby boy, and I'm so proud to be your mother" Crying as Luca turned his attention away from him, Levi placed the bundle of furs down beside Eren so he could scoop their toddler up "Are you sure you're going to be able to communicate if something does go wrong?" "Yeah. Luca will know too. Come give me a kiss before I shift" Leaning down, Levi tried not to be jealous of Luca being in the way. Kissing his husband, he rested his face against Eren's "I'm not ready" "I can't exactly say no and try again later with this" "That's not what I mean. I want to talk to you. Hold your hand and rub your back. Know how bad it hurts and be with you" "I'm still me" That wasn't what he meant. Eren didn't sound happy with him, probably because he'd accidentally insinuated that dragons were too beastly to communicate "Message received. If you want to shift, go ahead. We'll be right here with you" "I know. Historia did say I should shift back pretty soon after I birth the last egg. I love you so much... and if it gets too much, or if my magic... if my magic is too much... take the boys and go" Tears rolled down Eren's cheeks. Levi feeling guilty for making his mate feel crappier when this was a real issue "I'm not going anywhere. Your magic won't hurt us" "I could bring the roof down on you" "And a freak storm could too" "Which would probably be my magic. I'm going to shift... before I end up crying even harder" "You're going to be ok" "Yeah... and we're going to have another pup or two..." "That are going to look just like you. With those pretty scales of yours" "No... I want them to look just like you. I love you" "I love you too. And I'm going to love them... whatever they look like" "You're making me cry" Like Levi wasn't also an emotional wreck "I'm sorry, Sweet Boy. You shift and get comfortable. I'm not going anywhere"

* Eren's labour continued into the night. His husband panting as his contractions grew worse. Luca refused to leave his side, even for bedtime. Their son insisted on laying with his nose against Eren's, licking, chirping softly, and nuzzling each time Eren would huff if pain, while Levi had a large clawed foot resting on his leg. He couldn't hold Eren's hand, so it was the closest he could be and the best he could do as he tried to keep Viren preoccupied. Forced to leave to given Viren his dinner and settle him in bed, he couldn't give two fucks about the mess he'd left out by his husband. Viren's lunch, three nappies, his lunch that he was forced to make after Eren glared at him when he returned without food. He'd also glared at him when Levi's horse had come wandering over, reminding them both that the alpha hadn't closed the gate, or moved the animals to the other end of the barn. Still. He didn't like leaving. He'd nearly missed being there as it was, sure he would have returned around sunset, yet Eren had been terrified over everything and he'd only been gone a good half hour to an hour tops that morning. He wouldn't have been able to even hold his husband before he shifted, nor soothe his worries, though Eren did most of the soothing.

As the night progressed, the temperature dropped. Eren nuzzling at Luca until Luca finally headed into the house, the look on his face clear that he'd be back out the moment the sun rose. Finally alone with his omega, Eren whined softly, calling him closer. Moving to stand between his husband's front leg and saddle, Eren shifted again, trying to rub against him in his own dopey way "How do you feel? Can I get you anything?" His mate had barely drunk any of the water he'd brought from the well for him. Shaking his head, he shifted shakily onto his stomach "Hey, are you close? You need to be resting" Whining, Eren rolled back, nudging at him with his leg "You want me to check?" Huffing like he was relieved Levi finally got the message, he placed his hand on Eren's side as moved towards his slit. He hadn't thought about adding to the glowstones on the outer side of the barn and regretted that Eren had to give birth in the dark with all the light and warmth of the house illuminated mere metres away. The first thing he noticed was Eren's dick. He'd forgotten how massive it was in his dragon form, and because his husband hadn't exactly had it hanging out with the kids around "You're horny? Is that it?" Huffing and rolling again, that was definitely it. He shouldn't be as surprised as he was. Eren had been a horny mess during the first clutch. Sliding his hand down, he skipped his mate's neglected dick, instead running his hand along Eren's opening. With his hand so close and intimate, he could feel the almost back to back ripple of his lover's strong muscles "You're close... it won't be long now" Thumping his tail, Eren didn't want to hear it "I feel like you're trying to tell me that if I don't make you cum, you're going to use your breath on me" When Eren didn't reply, Levi laughed softly "I told you'd I'd give you whatever you want and need"

Lapping and sucking at the soft flesh of his mate's clit, Eren's tail was thudding as he huffed and groaned, wriggling against Levi's mouth as the alpha thoroughly pleasured him, he knew by the weak way Eren tried to trust he was close, his rhythm shot completely and his pace exhausted yer desperate. With the kids taking up so much of their time, and settling in, making their home a home and organising the farm, then the random visits from Isabel and Farlan and few from Mikasa and Armin, and, Ymir, Historia and their girls, the only them time they really got when was the kids were sleeping or busy, and there wasn't space enough in their room for Eren to shift. He wasn't sure he knew what he was doing, but Eren was enjoying it, and his mate tasted amazing... so it was kind of a win. Sucking harder, Eren threw his head back hard enough to shake the barn, his dick spasming as cum gushed to join the wet puddle beneath the spent organ. Pulling back with a smirk, he tried not to laugh at his mate. His own arousal a smouldering mess he wasn't sure what to do with "Good?" Thudding his tail weakly, Levi's ego was stroked by the affirmation. Mindful of the puddle, he moved back to Eren's soaked opening, slipping his hand in deeper this time to essentially "finger" his dragon, he could feel their eggs, so close to being birthed but again there was nothing he could do but wait, hoping that massaging the muscle wasn't actually making it feel even worse for his exhausted love.

It was about 2 hours later that Eren finally birthed their first egg, a long and pained whine as the emerald egg slowly slid from him. Having spent the time trying to rub down his dragon and work him through the contractions the best he could, Levi was wincing at the size of the thing, easily as big as Luca's egg had been at the time of his hatching and enough to make him nearly regret impregnating Eren by accident. Setting the egg down carefully, the second that slid out in the connecting... grossness?... he didn't know what to really call the bloody mucus, was smaller and plain green. Exactly the same as Eren's lifeless clutch. His heart dropped as the third egg was the same. Eren panting softly, despite the pain Levi could feel through their bond. His mate was trying his hardest to be strong, though his lungs must be giving him grief with the cold air, uncharacteristic of a spring night.

The rest of the eggs came much more slowly than the four. The 6th another brilliant green egg, freckled with speckles of grey across the surface, yet the rest remained an empty clutch until they reached the last, the 9th egg a smaller egg than the previous two, Levi nearly placing it aside with those that were lifeless until he noticed that it shimmered grey under the light. Passing the birth, it took his husband half an hour before he took his human form again. Wrecked and dripping with sweat, Eren was barely conscious as Levi gathered him into a thick blanket, his mate trying to reach for their eggs as nasty coughs began to bubble. Nuzzling Eren's hair, he was forced to make the call. Eren needed warmth now, and to rest somewhere that wasn't a dirty and disgusting barn "You did so good. Three good eggs, baby. Three. I'm so proud of you. So proud"

Carrying his mate into the living room, he laid him down carefully in front of the fireplace, Eren crying out weakly as Levi moved away from him "I'm going to get out clutch. Our beautiful clutch, and I'll be right back. You want to see our clutch, don't you?" Nodding wearily, Eren's eyes were sliding closed as he did "I'll be right back, beautiful boy. I'm so fucking proud of our family" He was crying. He couldn't help it. Three perfect eggs. Eren had given him three more children. He couldn't be happier or prouder.

Returning with their eggs, Levi placed them down beside Eren, rousing him by cupping his husband's face. Exhausted green eyes blinking up at him questioningly "I've got our clutch, Sweet Boy. I thought you'd want to see them" Needing assistance, Eren's eyes filled with the same love and wonder he'd have for both Viren and Luca "I am so proud of you. You rest my love. I'll clean everything up" Like Eren's blooded thighs and arse. He prayed some of Eren's magic had healed things down there, but as he moved his mate to make preparations, he found him torn and bloodied. Not quite as badly as Viren, but enough to make his heartache. This time they'd wait. Eren would go back onto contraceptives, and they'd wait for the time they were ready for another child if they were ever really ready. They'd never planned for five children. Five small mouths to feed and five tiny personalities they'd be responsible for the rest of their lives. Though Eren was happy now, there was no way to tell if he'd feel that way with nightly feeds, nappies and long nights ahead of them. He could only pray this didn't break his husband or send him spiralling into a drop or melancholy episode that he couldn't recover from. He could only pray that he wouldn't lose his memory further, and wind up another "child" to his husband. He was so fucking proud of Eren. So proud the omega was his forever. And so beyond proud and relieved that only three eggs had been viable. Despite the exhaustion he felt, his primary concern was still Eren.

Cleaning Eren carefully and applying ointment to the wounds, Levi moved him from in front of the fire to their bed. A fresh kettle of boiling water positioned so the steam rose into Eren's face to ease his breathing and coughing. Outside the sounds of a storm had begun to rage, the day the perfect kind for spending in bed, even if that hadn't been his intention all along. With their clutch wiped down and placed carefully into folded blankets it sat with the other eggs Eren had birthed, across from the omega so they'd be the first thing he saw once he woke. The bleeding between Eren's legs had eased, yet each cough seemed to expel a little more, so he'd left the towel there, knowing Eren would be embarrassed once he woke. Settling down beside his husband, Levi couldn't take his eyes off of him. So in love, he wasn't sure love described his feeling anymore. They'd been through far too much to make it here, yet there was no place he'd rather be for the rest of his life. He didn't miss the castle like he probably should. He didn't miss the people like he probably should. He didn't miss the riches like he probably should. This was all thanks to Eren. As long as he had his husband by his side, he could do absolutely anything.

* Propped up in bed, Eren was tender. He was sore in all the wrong places, and he was exhausted beyond words, yet he was happy. Beside him, Levi had fallen asleep holding his hand, his head resting on the omega's shoulder exactly how he'd been when he'd been talking softly with him over their clutch. Three eggs. Two painfully large and a smaller third that had him worried for their child, but all of which intact and that was the main thing. He'd unexpectedly birthed 6 more eggs, which was upsetting to see given they could have been potential lives, yet relieving as hell given three eggs was equal parts ecstasy and stomach dropping fear. Curled around their clutch was Luca, who looked as proud as Levi and Eren both felt. Viren didn't understand that mummy was tender, so his son was sitting in his lap, nearly reducing him to tears but he couldn't let him go. This was his family. His crazy hectic family that had just grown by three more. Kissing Viren's hair, his pup was nearly asleep too. When Viren has started crying Luca had led him into their room. Levi climbing out of bed to clean their son up after he'd wet the bed, then feed him before returning him all smiles and giggles, both of them handing Eren a glass of water which he downed gratefully. Listening to the rain against the roof, he hoped the small and quiet moment wouldn't end. This is what his mind needed far more than the walls of the castle. A solid floor with no dungeons or cells beneath. A roof over his head and ridiculous over the top love and pride for his family.

Levi was apologetic when he woke, quick to lift Viren off his aching stomach as he scolding him for not waking him earlier. His poor husband had had to suffer through helping him birth their clutch, he deserved some kind of medal for his patience. Or at least a long holiday away. Preferably one where someone would wait on Levi like Levi was him. He felt bad knowing he'd be even more useless until his body healed and his magic returned, yet Levi was acting like all his demands were completely natural. Like he hadn't turned into some kind of hormonal monster obsessed with his dick more than his feelings for the last month or so. He didn't deserve such a wonderful husband.

Despite Levi warning him not to push himself, Eren was never great at bedrest. Insisting that he needed to get up, he stubbornly refused to admit the idea was terrible as he shuffled through the house to the toilet, regretting every life choice once he'd sat. He regretted it, even more, when it came to cleaning up then shuffling back through the house to the kitchen where Levi was preparing what had to be dinner by now. Refusing to let him help, Eren retrieved the note pad and pencil he kept for jotting down things they needed from town to pen his letters to Historia, and Armin and Mikasa. All three of them were going to be mad at him for going into labour early. Historia was excited to be there for him. Freya just as excited for him, writing shortly after they'd moved out of the city. She'd been amazing when he'd been forced to set foot in Marley again, then stay for the month in the manor he loathed so much in order to sort things with Asana and Onyankopon. Both wonderful people, but not quite sure how to handle him when each room held nothing but pain for him. Handing the throne over had been cathartic. To be finally free of its shackles completely had taken weeks to set in. Yet the thing that had truly healed his heart on the past was when Levi took him to visit Zeke's grave. His husband simply announcing one morning that he needed to borrow Eren for the day, then handed him a bouquet of red flowers that he "needed for when they reached their destination". Everyone had been so careful when it came to mentioning Zeke around him that he hadn't thought they'd approve of him visiting his grave, so for Levi to go that far for him, to let him sit and pour his guilty out to the man he'd been so briefly married to... he didn't think any other alpha in the world could do it. Keeping a distance so that Eren might have some privacy, Levi had told him he was proud of him once he was done, and to know that Dina hadn't disposed of Zeke like was garbage... he'd needed all of it. When he thought of the past, all he could think of was that it seemed like a dream now. He'd wanted so desperately to learn magic. He'd forcibly educated himself into a neat book induced coma so he wouldn't simply be a housewife. So he'd be an amazing mage that changed the future. He'd never thought he'd be here, being a housewife and being as ok with it all he was. He loved their little farm. He loved being simple and normal. He loved that no one stared at him or judged him, and he felt proud of keeping their house organised. He wasn't living up to Erwin's wishes of him being Armin's advisor, but it wasn't like he wasn't Armin's go-to man with most things. A letter between the castle and their farm only took an hour or so to arrive. Armin frequently writing back and forth a dozen times a day, sending eagle after eagle when Eren would take too long to reply. His friend having established the orphanage was well on its way had turned his eyes to Shinganshima. The place of so many painful memories for the three of them was to be rebuilt. Mikasa had led a small army to clean the city of those less than desirables, most driven to crime with the unstable economics, and most sent to work prisons on the west side of the island where the goal was rehabilitation and training. The not so hopeful side being that there were those past such methods. Armin had been forced to see his first hanging, something that had distressed them both greatly and ended up with Armin coming for a weeklong visit to get his legs back under him. Being the idealistic and loving fool he was, the blocks where their family homes had sat were to be turned into memorial parks. They could never take back those memories, but it felt right to remember the good times and to provide other people with similar happy memories there. Once the official opening came, they'd all be attending, but that was some time away. The only thing Eren regretted was that he'd never known what happened to Grandpa Arlet's, his mother's or his father's bodies, and wasn't able to lay the three most important parental figures of his childhood to rest. Sighing to himself, they were all thoughts for another day and his instincts were demanding he return to his clutch, despite wanting to finish his letter and to help Levi. Jumping as surprise kiss was dropped upon his head, Levi then slipped his arms around him, resting his chin on the omega's shoulder "Everything ok?" "Mmm. Yeah. Just thinking about what we've been through to get here" "A metric fuck tonne?" "Pretty much. I want to go back to our clutch, but I also want to finish these" "Historia? And to Armin and Mikasa?" "Yeah... you should write to Hanji and then to Isabel and Farlan. They'll all want to know" Isabel and Farlan were considering moving out to live closer, but Armin didn't trust anyone else with keeping the game populations in check, begging them to stay an extra winter before they moved out to work remotely. They'd be living on the other side of the road that led to Mitras, closer to thicker woodland once things had settled. They'd even found a cottage to rent from a farmer with a rat problem. Farlan hadn't seemed convinced, while Isabel was over the moon. Naturally, Isabel got her way. They'd be keeping the store in Mitras and dividing their time in a move Levi called "stupid" "They can wait. I'm making some clear broth for you, your stomach will probably appreciate it more than anything heavy right now" "You're amazing" "I'm really not" "You are. I've been thinking about it nonstop... I wouldn't be alive without you. I couldn't do any of this without you... I'm sorry I've placed so much responsibility on your shoulders" "You haven't. You're selling yourself short my love. Go rest, if our roles were reversed you would be doing all of this for me. I'll finish the letters and sign them from both of us" "Thank you. My instincts want to stay in our nest, but my mind..." "Is telling you to be an idiot by moving far too soon. Rest. We've got three beautiful children to think of, and three beautiful eggs to be proud of" Leaning back as Levi stood, Eren stared up as his husband's face with a smile on his lips "I love you" "I love you too. My Omega. My mate. My husband. My dragon. My Sweet Boy and stubborn little shit" Snorting out a giggle, Levi silenced him with a kiss "Now go" "Yes, master" "Don't start that shit unless you want a whole other clutch" "Oh god. Nope. My everything down there is a big fat nope right now. I'm behaving" "That's a first" "It might also be a last..." "Gods give me strength. Why did I marry you again?" "My charming personality and wit?" Levi shook his head "No. It was your arse. Definitely your arse" Faking offence, Eren pushed himself up to stand, forcing Levi to move out the way before he was headbutted. His alpha raising an eyebrow at him as he tried to appear huffy "Do these breasts mean nothing to you at all?" Taking a moment to gawk at him, Levi covered his mouth as he laughed "Go to bed already, you shit. I'll be right in" "Good. I wouldn't want this arse to be lonely" Moving to hug him again, Levi was careful not to press against his stomach "Oh come here. You know I love every single part of you" "You're a god damned sap, Levi Ackerman" "Only for you" Kissing him gently, the shared three more before Eren broke off with a happy hum "Mmm. Best alpha ever"

*** Historia kept to her original schedule of arriving the following week, dropped off by a dragon that wasn't Ymir the princess had stopped by the castle on her way to pick up gifts from Armin and everyone else. A stupidly ridiculous amount of gifts and enough food to last at least a month or two saving Levi from having to ride into town... not that he needed to at the moment.

Being in their own cottage the alpha's instincts hadn't gone as wild as they had when Viren was born. He didn't have to contend with everyone's shitty scents, or constantly worry over being disturbed by their friends. Eren seemed to be recovering much better from birth too. He was sleepy, spending the next few days napping and allowing Levi to pamper him properly, then stubbornly decided bedrest was over when he found out his magic had flared out of control during the birth, or rather after. Both of them had been relieved that he hadn't used his breath, or blown anything up. That the storm his magic created only hit after the birth and no real damage was done to the barn.

Foolishly letting Luca and Viren play outside, Luca had come back with a dozen white roses in his mouth for Eren. His husband then demanded to know what had happened and Levi was forced to admit the scale of the magic released during the birth. Outside their house was seemingly endless fields of white roses, running all the way up to the orphanage up the hill. Their vegetable garden now resembled something of a jungle, as did Eren's greenhouse. The tree surrounding their farm, and on their farm, had seemingly tripled in size, again, all the way up to the orphanage where the start of the orchard Eren had insisted they needed was now bursting with fresh fruit waiting to be plucked. It wasn't just the plant life that seemed to have received a boost. Animals seemed to be everywhere. Levi wasn't stupid, he knew Eren couldn't speed up a pregnancy with magic, yet wherever he looked there fox kits or baby birds, a random cat had turned up then had her kittens on their back veranda. Trying to keep Luca and Viren from the had been an experience, which only grew to include Eren once he knew of them. Said cat and kittens now living in their living room, thanks to Historia who planned to take two of the litter of five back to Draecia once they were weaned from their mother given they reminded her of her girls. Ymir had apparently been teaching them all the wrong things. Each time she'd yell, the three dragons would take off running to hide, but given their size, the girls were generally bigger than the scrub they were hiding behind, Ymir's even larger form not hidden in the slightest. She'd been teaching them that if they couldn't see their mother, she couldn't see them, then blaming Historia's magic each time they were found within minutes. For all her complaining and teasing, Historia was beyond a proud mum and had pretty much adopted the boys as her own leaving Levi to focus on Eren and their clutch. Luca had been completely taken by the kittens until they started moving around too much for him to corral them all back to their mother at once while chasing after Viren and guarding the smallest egg of their clutch. Their son chirping in alarm when the kittens started climbing on him and wanting his attention, his red eyes wide with a silent cry for help that had Eren laughing softly at their boy.

The first night Luca had made off with their egg, Eren had been in absolute tears thinking something horrific must have happened. That he must have done something in his sleep, somehow broken it or such. With his wailing mate in their nest, Levi tore the whole place apart, not thinking to look in Luca's bed, given that Viren usually climbed in there and was the lump between their fur blankets. It'd been a long night comforting his mate, Eren wanting to sleep with both their boys and the two remaining eggs, which lead to the discovery when Levi went to retrieve the two boys, finding their missing egg protectively hidden by their oldest son. Returning it to Eren, his husband calmed enough to be confused by the situation, holding his egg close as he nuzzled into the grey scales. Luca hadn't been raised by dragons, yet he instinctively wanted to protect the smallest and most fragile of their eggs, which Eren cursed himself over for not thinking of sooner. It took another few days for Eren to get what was going on. Historia calling them in to show them the sight waiting in the living room. Sitting on the lounge chair, Luca had Viren tucked up close to him, as he licked and nuzzled at the egg, their son deciding that he wanted his own little family with Viren like his parents. Puberty was still a long way off for their boy, yet he seemingly wanted a clutch of his own someday. Eren couldn't bear to let his eggs out of his sight just yet, so Levi was left to gently explain to their son that he had to wait to until his sibling was born before he could play with them, then Historia was left to distract the boys with the kittens while Eren returned the egg to their clutch. Both of them feeling like dicks when all Luca wanted was to share the love. It was simply too soon. Historia assured them it was quite normal to feel that way for the first month at least, then things would get easier for them, provided Eren stopped trying to fight the dragon side of his instincts and let him feel his chronic need for closeness. This resulted in his omega wearing his eggs in a sling against him almost every waking moment, then sleeping with their clutch between them every night. This didn't stop their son though. Within the first month Luca managed to slip in and steal the same egg three more times, each thinking he'd carefully hidden it in his bed, only for Levi to retrieve it and break his heart a little more.

A month passed after the birth, then a second. Eren starting to struggle over waiting for their clutch to hatch. Mikasa and Armin had written constantly for updates, but there weren't any to give, Levi left to answer their letters as Eren poured his attention into raising Viren and Luca, Viren having decided he needed to be glued to his mother's hip the moment Historia left. They both knew it could take some time to meet their new family members, but neither of them were particularly good at waiting. Three months after the birth, Mikasa and Armin came to visit at Levi's request. Farlan and Isabel needed help with their cottage, and though the journey was an easy ride, Eren didn't want to leave the farm and Levi didn't want him to be alone during the day. Not when the smallest thing going wrong had him doubting himself. His mate dropped a bar of soap in the bathtub, then cried against him for half an hour over being useless when it led to him accidentally setting the bath mat on fire. His magic was still a little iffy, but Eren had been trying to do everything without magic since giving birth as it was. It seemed to Levi that his husband was denying that part of him with each growing day. Hence calling in his husband's two best friends to distract him. He'd also written to Historia, but the princess was stuck with helping her brother and unable to come down to spend time with Eren.

It was the morning of Mikasa and Armin's visit that their first egg hatched. Curled around his husband, he'd woken to find their bed soaked beneath Eren. It wouldn't be the first time Eren had had an accident, but as he shook his mate awake, it was like his melancholy wasn't there at all. Shooting up, his words fell over each other, Levi confused as he hell until Eren scrambled around the other side of their clutch revealing the cracked emerald egg. He'd mentally named all of them. Eggbert. Eggeles. And lastly spatula, their little egg that had adventurer further then it's siblings. Eggbert was the one hatching, the thin membrane pushed by a tiny clawed hand. In his rush, Eren didn't notice that Eggeles had also cracked slightly as he pulled Eggbert into his lap, breaking the membrane ever so slightly so a tiny claw could hook against it. Holding Eggeles, the egg was a way off of hatching. Whispering and encouraging their tiny child, they needed a little more help to free themselves, letting out an adorable sneeze as their black eyes met Eren. It was like looking at mini-Eren. Their child's scales the same shades of green as Eren's facial scales, and they were all legs as the fell out into Eren's lap, shaking its head before sneezing all over Eren's arm. Scooping their baby dragon up, their tiny arse filled Eren's hands as Eren cooed, bringing them close to nuzzle nose to nose with them "Levi... look..." "I can see, Sweet Boy... but have you noticed what their twin is doing?" Levi mentally winced at twin. They were triplets, but twins what it came to the size. Lowering their child, his husband's face lit up all over again at the cracks in Eggeles "No way..." "Ready for baby number two?" "I... I thought it'd be like Luca..." "You're going to have to figure out names now" "We're going to have to figure out names now. We can't name them over their sneezes" "Luca did make it easier in that respect" "He did... do you want to hold your baby?" Was that even a question? Taking their dragon pup with shaking hands, the small dragon eyed him with wide eyes "Hello baby, I'm your daddy. Your mummy didn't even introduce himself. He's been waiting to meet you" Darting out its tiny tongue, their pup licked the top of his nose "I'm not naming them Sneezy or Licky" With a small crack, there was a gush of fluid into Levi's lap, the alpha flinching at the unpleasant sensation "Is that what it feels when your water breaks?" "A sudden gush when you're not expecting it? Kind of... I think there was more fluid with Viren" "I don't like it" "Then it's a good thing you're the alpha. Here, pass me our baby back while you help..." He paused. None of their prospective names seemed to suit now that they were meeting their children. Eren nodded as finally smiling again, and despite thinking he'd never spill his secret, he desperately wanted to keep his husband smiling "Eggeles" Eren scooped their pup back into his hold "I'm not naming my baby Eggeles" "No, I named the egg Eggeles" "You named our eggs?" "It helps with the memory thing. You're holding Eggbert" Eren wrinkled his nose "My baby isn't an Eggbert. Do I want to know what you called our third baby?" "Probably not" "I can't believe you named them without telling me. Tell me you didn't give them an equally horribly name?" "Uh... Spatula" Eren's eyes widened the way they do before he usually started yelling. Lowering his tone, he brought their baby to his chest, covering their small head with his cupped hand "You named our baby Spatula?!" "Not what you were eggspecting?" "Spatula?! Why?" "I don't know. I ran out of egg names. Besides, it's already had an eggciting adventure with Luca" "You keep making egg jokes and I'm going to fry you" "Come on, Sweet Boy. See the sunny side up" "Your brain is scrambled. Your upsetting our baby" Nuzzling into Eren's hand and chest, their dragon pup didn't seem too phased that they had idiots for parents "They look just like you. Their scales are the same colour as yours" "I don't feel much magic coming from them. Not like Luca... but kind of the same at the time. Maybe because they're a quarter dragon. Or is it eighth? I'm half, but you're full human..." "Leave the maths for another time" Ducking his head, Eren smiled softly "I'm sorry I've been..." "Shhh. We'll talk about it after Eggeles is here" Scowling at him, Eren wasn't going to let it drop anytime soon

Eggeles didn't have the struggles Eggbert did. The moment the shell had cracked enough, the baby dragon was tearing through the membrane with a tiny roaring squeak, announcing to everyone they were there. Gathering their speckled baby up to his face, Levi smiled as their front two feet went right to his cheeks, their baby "roaring" in his face again "Hello, Feisty! Look at you... You're adorable my baby. I'm your daddy" The speckles through the dragons tiny scales were the same shiny iridescent grey Eren's full form held "We have Sneezy and Feisty... and Spatula" "At least they won't be lost in a crowd with those names" "See if I ever let you between my legs again" "You're not mad. I know you're not... Mikasa and Armin are coming today too, and I'm thinking that I won't be going to see Isabel and Farlan" "Is that today? Why didn't you remind me? They don't get to hold our babies. Not until Luca and Viren meet them properly, and even then, I don't want to let them go. They're both so small... We'll need to move the kittens too... How is our cottage so full?" "Because you and the kids fell in love with the kittens, then Historia was swayed by them" "If she waits much longer they're going to be off having adventures before she can take the two she wanted" They were 12 weeks or so, weaned from their mother and attacking innocent feet with their tiny razor claws. Like Eggbert and Eggeles would be doing now they'd hatched. Placing Eggbert down, Levi placed Eggeles next to them, Eggeles immediately attacking their sibling in order to pin them down and groom them "I think they're both like you. Eggbert has your scales, and Eggeles has your personality. Coming out screaming then right into cuddles" "Eggeles freckles are the same grey as your eyes... and we're not keeping these names" "They'll work for now" "Mikasa will kill us if we name them that. I mean, we don't know what sex they are yet. Historia and Ymir lucked out with their names because when both their children shifted they were girls, but I have no idea" "We'll work it out. Was Luca this small? They seem so tiny" Tiny and determined. Coming into the world fighting and kicking as they wrestled with each other "Luca was smaller. Did... is the third egg..." Lifting Eggeles egg from his lap, he placed it by the twins, both deserting playing to start crunching on the shell. Picking up Spatula, he turned the egg gently "No. No cracks. They probably need a little longer to grow, right?" "Yeah. Yeah... it would have been nice to meet them too. I hope they're ok in there, and I hope these two won't shun them" Eren's smile turned sad, the omega placing the second egg remnants by their hungry children. Taking Eren's hand, he placed it on their third egg "No one's going to shun anyone. This little one is waiting to make a scene of their own when they come" "What if they're hurt like Luca was?" "Do you love Luca any less for his wing? Or for his lack of magic?" "No. No, he's exactly who he's supposed to be" "Exactly. This little one will be perfect, no matter how long they take to finally grace us with their presence. Luca already adores them, Viren's given all the eggs kisses and says goodnight to them at bedtime since they were born. They're going to be fine" "I really hope so... It's like they've heard all about Mikasa and didn't want to face her wrath of not yet hatching" "They're smart little dragons..." Which owned his heart the moment they'd hatched. He also didn't wish to take his eyes off them, but without the boys there's it didn't feel right "... I'll bring the boys in while you watch them" "Ok. Levi. Thank you. I know I've been down again, but thank you. For this. For us. For them. For everything" "You're welcome, Sweet Boy"

Viren was already awake, their son reaching for him the moment their eyes met. Lifting his precious pup from his bed, Levi winced when his small leg pushed his soaked nightshirt against his skin. He was definitely getting old. Despite the morning light he was freezing, and more than one joint had seemed to have seized up as Viren tugged at his hair "Daddy has someone he wants to introduce you too, but we need to wait for Luca" Luca was sitting on his bed, his head on his front feet as he silently watched them "Come on, Luca. It's time for you to meet your new siblings" Climbing down slowly, Luca moved to stand by Levi, licking at Viren's foot when his best friend failed to reach for him. It was unusual for Viren to spend the whole night in his own bed. He'd normally always climb in with Luca given Luca couldn't fit on the toddler's bed "Aunty Mikasa and Uncle Armin are arriving today too. They've missed you, boys. The ask more about how the pair of you are doing than Eren or I" Luca was still put off by Viren not reaching for him. Leading the boys back to their room, Eren had both baby dragons in his hold as he smiled "Boys, these are your new siblings. Do you want to come meet them?" Luca didn't move "Viren didn't sleep with him last night" Placing down both dragons, Eren reached out towards their son "Oh Baby Boy, come here" With slow steps Luca moved around the bed, then hesitantly climbed up on the edge. Wrapping both arms around their son, Eren nuzzled into his scales "My big boy. I love you, my baby. You're always going to be my baby boy. My precious little baby boy. Having you has made everything better, and just because Viren didn't sleep next to you, doesn't mean that your baby brother doesn't love you any less. You're the best big brother in the world, and I'm relying on you to help keep this household running. Someone's got to teach these two everything in life. And all the important things like how to chase after a ball, or how to play hide and seek. Where the best spots in the sun to nap are. How to steal food stealthily... Mummy loves you so much and wanted to make sure you met your new siblings right away. What do you think of them?" Chirping softly, Luca licked at Eren's face before lowering his head down towards the two dragon pups. Cautiously he sniffed at them, before taking Eggbert by the nape to bring them closer for grooming. Eren's whole face lit up as he met Levi's eyes, nodding like Levi couldn't see that Luca seemed pretty chuffed to be a big brother to the pair. Maybe it was dragon thing? He had no clue. He'd thought being married to a dragon would result in him learning just what the hell dragons got up to. What all their prayers and spells meant. All the kind of cultural things. He'd learned a big fat fuck all from his husband. Eren didn't know jack shit. Then he'd randomly sprout the information like he'd known all along when really it was mostly an educated guess. He was just as confused as the day he'd learned Eren was part dragon, but watching their dragon pups he wouldn't change a damn thing "It's ok, you can place Viren down"

Viren wasn't sure about his new siblings, the toddler starting to cry the moment Eggeles placed their front foot on his leg. Luca was quick to abandon grooming Eggbert in favour of licking at Viren's tears, all forgiven between the pair as Viren wrapped his arms around Luca and Luca climbed up to sit behind the toddler, despite the weird angle and how much it must be hurting his neck. Chirping at his siblings, Luca sounded like he was trying to scold them, only when both chirped back at him, he seemed startled and appalled, looking to Levi like he'd been gravely insulted. Scooping up their pups, the pair continued to chirp, Eren scolding them for teasing their big brother and failing to silence them as they did. Given chirping didn't work, Luca tried trilling loudly, both pups echoing the sound, trying out trill them, Luca was only digging the hole faster. Too curious and too young to understand, his siblings weren't meaning to mock him, yet Luca didn't understand, trying to almost hush them up as he started to "Lu", leading to the pair wriggling and squirming as they grew louder. Dragons were idiots and now he had four of them... Gods give him strength.

[tk-duveraun]

Giveaway prize for @briarfox13 featuring her Solasmancer Zephyr! Please check out this awesome character and creator! Fic is post-Trespasser

It was not an aravel. The wagon rocked and rattled, jostling and tossing the supplies with every rock and rivet in the road. But it was serviceable. It carried the supplies and tents used by Cassandra and the few other former Inquisition members that joined Zephyr on her hunt for the Dread Wolf. She would have been faster and quieter alone; with her wits and two horses, she could cover twice the ground as the wagon and her company. But as much as she needed to end things on her own terms, the value of comrades had been beaten and scarred into her flesh during the fight with Corypheus. And the ache in her missing left arm wouldn’t let her forget it.

So the wagon carried the gear during the day and housed her for the scant few hours she slept each night. With the others strategizing and chatting around the campfire, Zephyr painted the inner walls of wagon. Endless boughs that stretched from the floor, across the ceiling panels and back down the other side, twisted and gnarled branches that felt more like home than Clan Lavellan: she made murals completely her own. Though she saw Solas in the corner of her eye and felt his touch in every breeze, the paintings were hers alone.

Her hands were stained yellow and green from the tall grasses representing northern Orlais and Southern Tevinter. She smudged and smeared the excess paint onto her stump of an arm and narrowed her eyes at the harsh lines of the white wolf. The silent hunter, misplaced and carrying secrets to places they should never go. She’d initially balked at the Keeper’s idea of what animal represented her. She was Dirthamen’s chosen; not a supplicant of Fen’harel.

But the Creators were like so much burned food. Once they could have brought life and fulfillment, but now they gave little more than ash and bitter taste. Zephyr would find Solas and turn him from his plan, turn him to teaching the People their history, to correcting the lies and propaganda. To helping them shove off Tevinter and Orlais’ boots for good. Her eyes burned as she spread the teal paint on the wolf’s face. Every night she searched the Fade for him. She understood now: knew how to explain to Solas, how to make him see from her perspective. If she could only find him, Fen’harel could be the freedom-bringer he remembered being.

A breeze brushed against her skin and rustled the grasses painted on wood. They’d spent days in the Fades, exploring and learning, each night that they’d lain together. There was magic in history, in the mundanities lost to time and Zephyr ached to discover them again. The white wolf howled at the blank wood and the grasses snagged and pulled on Zephyr’s armor. Her arms reached back for her bow before she froze, held in an icy grip that wasn’t entirely fear; Fear was also paying her visit.

Zephyr fought and drew her bow, sweeping her aim across the field. “He’s not with me, Demon!”

Throaty, inhuman laughter sent spears of fire into her ears. Zephyr neither cringed nor lowered her bow. The wind picked up until it was a roiling gale, whipping her hair into her face and tearing at her bare cheeks. The grasses bent and bowed under the onslaught, like the Inquisitions soldiers that fought on her orders before dying on their knees. Fire tore across the landscape, howling as it devoured the very air.

“His rage is not mine!” Zephyr shouted, the force of will in her voice drowning out the wailing of wind and fire.

What if it is yours I want? The words were cloying, but sickeningly sweet: sugar and oil congealing into inedible slag.

Her boot raised from ash and stepped onto old, crumbling stone. The Silent Tower spread before her, the rest of the ruins behind. Bow still in hand, She stepped forward. The path was as familiar as Skyhold, though she’d been there only once and with Qunari harrying her steps. Zephyr’s breath fogged in the air as she stood before the mural of Solas removing vallaslin. Skin aching with emptiness, she turned her back on it.

“I am no mage. I’m no use to you.” She feared neither demon nor spirit, not after ages spent traveling the Fade with Solas to teach her its wiles.

Where is your pride now? The whisper struck her face hard enough to force a flinch.

Zephyr raised her chin, looking down at the demons she couldn’t see. “Gone, but I’ll find him before you do.”

Sil-ly lit-tle mor-tal. Each syllable crashed against the ground like so much broken glass. Your pride was stripped from your face!

Zephyr screamed as the nightmare went black, but turned it into a defiant howl before gasping for breath. The ice runes on her arrowhead glowed before the blackness receded and she found herself on the top of the Silent Tower, overlooking the Dales as they burned again, fire dripping from the sky as the Veil fell. The muscles in her jaw tightened. “I made my choice. I make my choices, not the shems, not Fen’harel!”

He left you a child; alone in the woods. Helpless.

Trees burst from the stone on either side of her. Zephyr nocked her arrow and drew her bow. “Not helpless. Never again. I have his secrets. I will stop him.”

Secrets never brought you love before. The demons spoke as a wretched chorus; their words felt more than heard. Neither shall they now. The last syllable shattered the stone beneath her feet and Zephyr fell, firing her arrow into the sky as she did.

Her back hit hard wood, knocking the breath from her lungs. She sat up in a rush, pressing her hands to the wagon’s walls to stay upright. The painted grass under her palms was charred. Above them, the tower loomed. Where once her avatar, her white wolf, stood, was a beast blackened with ash. Embers drifted over its face like so many red eyes.

Zephyr dug her nails into the paint and scratched off thick chunks. “Impossible. No, this can’t be. Who did this? Who did this?”