#YOU ARE *ALSO* A VISIBLY FOREIGN YOUNG WOMAN WALKING ALONE IN THE DARK. THE ONLY DIFFERENCE IS THAT YOU WORK OUT

[digitaldiseas3]

i am god's strongest soldier for not killing OR maiming anybody

[venusdeus]

Court of Kings - Chapter 3

Summary: Sent to a neighboring kingdom to secure an alliance, forced to give up your dreams and ambitions, disregarded as a means to an end. You however have no desire to fulfil their wishes. And neither does Oikawa.

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x female reader

Genre: Fluff, comedy, angst, royalty au, arranged marriage au, enemies to lovers au (enemies to allies to friends to lovers), eventual smut?

Word count: 2380

Warnings: All the characters are adults unless specified. This chapter is sfw. Minors do not interact.

Notes: This is Part 3. To start from the prologue, you can use this link. This chapter finally ties into the events of the prologue.

Masterlist

Part 2 <…> Part 4

“Do you play cards your Highness?” the Mistress of the House, Countess of Webstier asked a few hours into the journey.

After a strenuous fifteen day ride up north you have finally arrived at the border that separated the two kingdoms, yours and Seijoh, at the first light of dawn.

When Tooru left two weeks into his arrival you were not given sufficient time to stomach the idea of your upcoming union with the rude prince before you were cast into a carriage with two of your ladies in waiting, chosen by the trusted council to spy on you no doubt, and sent on your marry way, followed by countless guards and staff.

You did not confide in them of course, for you could not. If you were to even say anything negative about the smallest thing, you knew they would carry it back. They already disliked you enough as it was, as to them you were a spoiled princess that did not appreciate her status and her wonderous fate. Oh, how they wished they were betrothed to such a fine man, the most desired bachelor in this part of the world no doubt, and they could not seem to stop talking about it.

The talks bordered on being completely inappropriate most the time, comments on his looks and his skills in different ways thrown out constantly, followed with giggles. So, you sat there silently, looking out the window and occasionally tasting the wine that seemed to be never ending.

The only time you had some peace and quite was when the others were asleep, but then again you gave up your own rest to be able to listen to your thoughts for a short while.

So, when the carriage doors opened at the border for your official handover you were quick to follow. And when they told you that your ladies could not come with you any further, you did not feel disappointed. They were never really your friends anyway.

You thought with the short time between your leave and your fiancé’s, you would have arrived at Seijoh around the same time, or maybe even caught up halfway. Against your expectations however, you were told that the Prince arrived at the kingdom a few days ago but travelled west to pay his respects to his late uncle who passed away three weeks prior when he was visiting your court, while you still had half a month to go.

It was because you traveled heavy with gifts and all the staff that accompanied you, the Countess said once you were introduced. She was an older woman with a stern tone and frown that never left her face. Her thin eyes looked as cold as the harsh winters that her nation was famous for. It was evident that she or any other woman that was assigned to accompany you to the palace did not approve of you. It was not their place to comment on it of course, but you could see it in their manners.

See that they thought you were a child when they took away your dark red dress that they said was behind the current style before dressing you in light blues inside a tent that was fashioned in the middle of the woods where the handover took place. You could see it when they put your hair in a tight bun that sat awkwardly against your face. When they tightened the corset to the point of taking your breath away. And you could see it when they put countless pearls and diamonds against your neck.

You thought you resembled one of your dolls that sat in your room back home with all the unnecessary display of wealth that were thrown on you.

“I’m afraid not.” You lied meeting her eyes “I prefer chess.”

“You must learn soon than. It is quite popular among the ladies at court.” She smiled cockily.

Just as you have crafted your false persona that of a naïve child back at your old home, you thought to continue the act in your new one. It also helped that when you robbed all of them on the card table from their money, they blamed it on luck. The first few times of course, as they would get used to it in no time just like they did in the past.

“Once we arrive you will be presented to the King first. You will not meet his Highness Prince Tooru for another week until the official ball to celebrate your engagement.” She said when you were two days away from your arrival at the palace.

They were using his first name, you pondered. You always made it a point to call him with his title, or simply as Oikawa, but his subjects did not deem it inappropriate to use his first name.

You knew there would be a difference between the cultures of two nations but the people at the Seijoh court seemed to be too unrestrained in their escapades as well as their morals. Although, it was a stark contrast to how they behaved towards you. This cleared the doubts that clouded your mind over the two-week journey from the border to the capital. They were cold to you because you were a foreigner.

This did not dampen your mood in the slightest. On the contrary, suddenly you were excited to be introduced to the court, a sly smirk forming on your face. You wanted to see the reaction the ladies would have when they learnt their beloved bachelor prince was now betrothed to an ignorant foreign girl. Would they be appalled? Angry? It made you giddy to anticipate their reaction.

On the last day of the ride however, right after the outskirts of the capital became visible to you, a plan formed in your head.

You would simply leave.

Bid your time until all the official appearances were over and done with and just leave. They certainly would not expect you to make an escape alone in a foreign land so you would use this as an opportunity. You had a week to learn your way around the palace.

Of course, it was never your intention to be gone forever. You knew better than trying your chances as a woman in the outside world all alone. It was to stall enough time until the wedding arrangement would be delayed. Where you would go however, was a topic that you needed to reflect more upon.

The solution though, came to your feet without you even trying, in the form of a ditzy little thing called Lady Alisa.

She was introduced to you at your arrival to the palace to accompany you till you were to be presented to your fiancé once more, this time formally. You were yet to be given your own ladies in waiting so they opted to bring a temporary solution with this tall and beautiful blonde.

“I live in our estate two-hour ride away from here towards the east, with my mother and my younger brother. Father passed away not long ago you see.” She rattled on as you walked through the corridors “My brother inherited the title after him. Now he goes by Earl Lev, I hope I can introduce you at the ball. But of course, you could visit our estate whenever you wanted to your Highness!”

You did not sense any malicious intent or lies behind her words. She simply was an innocent woman that did not understand that a Princess that were to be married in a weeks’ notice to the Crown Prince would never be able to visit her.

But you were thankful, as her innocence gave you the perfect escape. They would believe that you, a credulous girl, decided to pay a last-minute visit to her newfound friend who was as gullible as she was, to sooth the excitement that was to come. So, you played the part of a good friend.

When they found you, surely the wedding day would almost be over, and with all the guests on their way back home they would be forced to delay it for another month or two. They would never say that the princess was gone of course. Probably they would make up an excuse that would save them face. And you did not care for their reputation.

Just like how Oikawa did not care for yours when he insisted on being alone at the greenhouse.

You would leave the palace the night before your wedding by hiding from the watchful eye of the guards and take the carriage to the estate of Lady Alisa. Or at least that was the plan you made in haste.

You spent a week as a mere guest before your engagement was announced in a feast given in your honor on the seventh day, followed by a ball in which everyone who was anyone attended. That is when you were formally presented to Oikawa where you walked hand in hand to the floor where you had the first dance of the night.

“I remember you telling me that you would never marry me.” You whispered in his ear when you were sure no one else could hear “How sure you were of yourself.”

“The night is still young dear.” He replied, “Anything could happen.”

His answer sent a shiver down your spine, fearing he might have figured your scheme. But how could he when you never told anyone.

You were right about the reaction of others of course. Some ladies were left in tears when they were supposed to smile and clap right after the announcement. One even swooned! Although it was entertaining to watch you thought, tomorrow they could rejoice.

You were quite lucky to be given a room on third floor, not too high from the ground, and what is more right above the road that led to the stables. You waited until what you thought was a time that all the guests and the royal family went to bed to start your mischief.

You refused the maids that wanted to help you change out of your dress to your nightgown, saying you wanted to be left alone, after all when you appeared on Lady Alisa’s doorstep you had to look presentable.

Tying the linens around your bed together, once the palace engulfed in silence, you swung them over the open window in a desperate attempt. It was the only way to leave your room without the guards that were situated behind your door noticing.

Just when you wobbled your way down to the second floor, your arms shaking from carrying your weight, you were startled from a noise coming above you where others resided. It did not take long before a lengthy rope was tossed to the garden below. Shocked to silence over the possibility of being caught by palace guards you seized your movements.

Nothing, however, could prepare you for the eyes you caught as the person responsible for your concern made his way down to your level. He looked as terrified as you were when you came face to face, momentarily losing his balance before quickly gaining his posture by placing his feet on the walls, his hands gripping your sheets.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” he hissed.

Apparently not only did Oikawa have similar feelings towards his soon to be wife as you did to him, but he also had the same idea on how to escape his current position, as he was trying to leave the castle in his nightgown by dangling himself out the windows of the tower to reach the stables.

Even though you wanted to answer him with a question of your own you could feel the strength leaving your body.

He must have seen your torment however as he started climbing down quickly.

“Try to come down slowly, I will catch you at the end.” He whispered as you tried to balance yourself over the wall.

“Bend your knees and let go.” He said once you were close enough “Do it now Princess.”

Silenced into submission over his kind voice you let go of the sheets only to be caught by strong arms followed by a grunting sound.

You took a deep breath when your feet touched the ground. Your newfound relief did not last long however as Oikawa caught your wrist in a bear like grip and turned your body around to face his.

“Now tell me you insufferable woman what do you think you are doing?” he spat lifting both your hands over your head, practically pinning you to the palace walls.

“What were you doing you bear of a man?” you gritted your teeth “Let me go you are hurting me!”

He opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted as both of your heads snapped right, towards the sound of a loud gasp that came just next to you, his hands quickly letting you go.

And there stood a group of twenty to thirty guests that were in attendance that day laughing and jeering while coming down the gardens, most probably from a walk to sober up.

“Love birds couldn’t wait till tomorrow evening!” a man yelled behind the group making you and Oikawa jump away from each other “To be young and in love!”

And that is how to both your horror, your entire plan crumbled to the pieces and the rumor that the naïve foreign Princess and the insatiable rake Prince Tooru were a love match started in a single night.

Reblogs are appreciated! English is not my first language so if you see any mistakes let me know.

I would love it if you could give me feedback! Thank you!

Disclaimer: No portion of this story may be reproduced in any form without permission. I do not own the character of Oikawa Tooru. This is a work of fiction.

TAG LIST: Let me know if you want me to tag you. If your name is in bold it means I can’t tag you.

@sassyglassesbunny @triskoof @m-a-r-i-a-s-b-l-o-g @heroesfan101​ 

[starfanatic]

Me analyzing every scene with Charles and Erik in First Class.

Charles and Erik's experiences

Now in the beginning of the movie, Charles and Erik don't have a scene together but it compares their lives, side by side, and in a way explains why they are so different from one another.

Even as kids there is some clear differences:

The first mutant Erik ever met was Shaw. A nazi who murdered the only person who loved him. Then Shaw experimented and tortured him until Erik inevitably broke out. Shaw made Erik believes his power can only be unlocked through pain and anger. The first mutant Charles ever met is Raven. Raven and Charles became close, basically becoming siblings. Charles was never alone, he had Raven and vice versa.

At such a young age, Charles knew how to use his power efficiently, without needing to be angry to do it. Erik however only could do it (at that age when he's in extremely stressful situations).

Now as adults there is still big differences:

When we first meet Charles he's at a bar, flirting with a woman. It's clear he's very intelligent and talks about mutations. Then in the next scene, hes celebrating after his graduation. This is a good time in Charles' life. Erik however is still plotting revenge against Shaw, hurting people for information or straight up murdering them.

Something I noticed is that Charles seem to have a lot of positive interactions with humans, like Moira for example while Erik seems to only have negative interactions with them.

Erik’s power is naturally more destructive then Charles. Charles can communicate with people and understand their emotions and feelings. Erik destroys the environment around him, to do whatever he’s going to do.

Drowning Scene

Let's talk about Erik's mental state in this scene. He is pumped with adrenaline and anger. The man who made his life a living hell is escaping and he needs to stop and make him pay for what he has done. So he desperately tries to bring the submarine back, and he was going to do it or die trying. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for Erik, who has been wanting revenge against Shaw since the day he killed his mother. Its symbolic, because in a way he's drowning in his own hate and anger. His hate and anger is what almost killed him. Then Charles jumps in to save him. This is the first time someone wanted to genuinely help him since his mother. Charles was willing to jump in ice cold water just to save him. Immediately Charles knew what Erik has gone through, and as usual he wants to help him. Erik says "I thought I was alone" and he was. I don't think he was only talking about just mutants, but just being alone in general. And then Charles responds with "You are not alone". This can symbolize Charles saving Erik from drowning in his own anger and revenge. He thought he was by himself until Charles came in.

Note: There is multiple times where the main character jumps into the water to save their love interest from drowning. Think about the Little Mermaid where Ariel stopped... Eric from drowning. Think about Wonder Woman, where Diana jumped in the water to save Steve. Just saying....

"Surprised you've managed to stay this long"

This scene basically speaks on it's own so I don't have a lot to say here. But first, Charles was already outside before Erik left. I'm not sure why he was outside in the first place or if he was expecting Erik to leave and catch him on the way out. But Charles is literally the first person (i'm going to assume) that actually cares if Erik leaves. He wants Erik to stay because he cares about him, knows him and what he's gone through, and desperately want to help him. When Charles offers his help, Erik scoffs thinking its a completely ridiculous idea that he can be saved. But instead of saying that he says "I don't need your help". Well... we all know that's a lie. Erik is so used to being alone and working for himself, it's a foreign feeling to be around people who don't want to hurt him. This also can symbolize that despite Erik appearing to want to be alone, Charles won't let him. Then Charles says "I won't stop you from leaving. I could, but i won't" Unlike probably everyone Erik ever encountered in his life, Charles gives him a choice. He treats him like a person (fuck you Shaw).

Cerebro

When Erik walks in the room, Charles is surprised but visibly happy to see Erik. Then Erik says that mutants should be found by its own people, no suits. Charles looks at him for a minute and agrees with him. I’m not sure Charles thought about that in that very moment but listened when given the suggestion. Erik gives Charles a look that also shows visible happiness. They are just so damn happy to be with each other it’s adorable. Then they exchange witty banter. As I said before, A D O R A B L E.

Road Trip

This is the time Erik and Charles bond together even more.I don’t have much to say on the montage besides... it’s nice to see those two bond together and have fun.

Realist vs Optimist

Erik and Charles are playing chess together and Charles starts talking about how he will be able to help the mutants out there. How they can do it together. However Erik points out how they might not be able to. Once the government doesn’t need them, they will discard them or experiment on them.

I would call Erik a pessimist but that’s not entirely true. He’s not thinking the worse of ever situation he’s being realistic. The government would be scared of their power and once they don’t need them, they will try to get rid of them. He’s not even wrong at the end. Another scene is another one where they are playing chess. It seems whenever they start playing chess they start debating. Charles being the optimist, seeing the good in humans while Erik being the realist (but close to the optimist) by seeing the obvious evil humans have in them.

Russia

Something to point out, when dealing with the Russians, Charles tries to deal with them in the least violent way possible. When Erik deals with the Russians, he’s more violent, attacking them directly.

When Erik starts to lose control, Charles stop him. That seems to happen quite often in this movie. Charles is basically Erik’s restraint.

“Brightest Memory in Your Memory Bank” (aka the best Cherik scene ever)

Charles doesn’t want to shoot Erik (Guns probably make him nervous and the possibility of Erik not saving himself in time is scary.) So Charles pushes Erik more. Erik explains how he needs a specific situation, the anger, to be able to move something that big. That’s what he’s been told his whole life but Charles knows that’s not true. Charles contradicts everything that Shaw is, everything that Shaw believes in and says. He knows that there is more power Erik has, that Erik is just not aware of yet.

When you think about it, Charles is the serenity to Erik’s rage. Charles gave the serenity that Erik needed by unlocking a memory, Erik doesn’t even know he had. It’s such a beautiful moment that it brings both Charles and Erik to tears. This is the moment Charles and Erik truly connect completely. Charles understands a part of Erik nobody ever has since his mother.

Then Erik tries again and he succeeds. Both of them laughing in joy, Erik for being able to do it and Charles for being genuinely joyed that Erik succeeded.

Cuba Beach Divorce

This is the moment when things start becoming dark between them. While Shaw was talking to Erik, he managed to basically do the opposite of what Charles was trying to do for Erik. Bringing back his trauma and pain. Making him believe he was a weapon, instead of a person. When he put the helmet on, that symbolizes the disconnect he now had with Charles. Charles main power is communicating with people between minds. Erik putting on the anti-telepathy helmet symbolized the communication they no longer had with each other. Sure they can still speak to each other, but Erik is no longer listening to Charles. He no longer has serenity, only rage. When Erik slowly puts the coin through Shaw’s head, he makes Charles endure through the same pain. Symbolically showing that Erik’s revenge only caused Charles pain and the destruction of the beautiful relationship they had.

As Erik expected, the humans banded together to destroy a race they feel threatened by. Erik attempts to send them back the missles they intended to use to blow them up, but then Charles tries to stop him.

There is multiple times throughout the movie that Charles stops Erik from doing something and Erik stops, relunctantly, but he does. But now there relationship is strained and broken. When Charles tries to stop him he fails, Erik continues to do it, even hurting Charles to do it, until...

The bullet Erik deflected shot Charles in the back. When people usually say “shot in the back” or “stabbed in the back” it usually means betrayal. In Charles’ mind, Erik probably did betray him. Charles will do anything to protect people, even at the cost of hurting HIMSELF. Erik seems to constantly hurt the people around him, no matter how much he loves them.

The whole speech they have with each other is self-explanatory but their eyes show so much pain. They obviously don’t want to let each other go, but they are simply too different.

Erik holds a special type of pain, because he hurt the first man who genuinely loved and cared about him since his mother. The man who didn’t see him as a weapon to be used but a friend. The first mutant Erik has a positive interaction with. The only person who was able to unlock a side of Erik, even he didn’t know exist. In a way, he disappointed Charles and proved him wrong, that there is no good in him and he cannot be helped.

When he looks up he looks angry and hurt because he knows he won’t be able to change his mind. He know lost someone he considered a... (*cherik iykyk*) fRiEnD.

And Erik leaves Charles alone on the beach. Bleeding from the wound he gave him. Hurt from losing his bEsT fRienD and sister.

In conclusion: P A I N

[meta-squash]

Brick Club 2.3.5 “The Little Girl All Alone”

“Only, as she fell prey to certain feelings, she rattled the handle of the bucket as much as she could while she walked. That made a noise, which kept her company.” This line really struck me as an interesting summary of so many of the characters in this book. Nearly all of the main or majorly recurring characters in this book are so lonely. So much of this book is different characters metaphorically rattling buckets in different ways.

This random woman that Cosette meets on the road is the opposite of Valjean meeting Madame De R--- way way back in 1.2.1. Mme De R--- was the one who stopped and spoke to Valjean and did the kindness of pointing out Myriel’s door. This random woman doesn’t do anything like that. She just keeps walking. The entire town knows who Cosette is and not a single person stops to help her.

God, I love the way Hugo writes children. He clearly was so lovely and patient and observant towards his kids and grandkids. All the little idiosyncrasies and quirks that we see Cosette and all the little kids at the convent exhibit are so believable and realistic.

We literally just had the ghosts of Waterloo wandering the plain, and here’s Cosette frightened of ghosts.

Thenardier is a wolf, but the Thenardiess tends to be more “foreign” wild animals. So far I’ve noted hyena and tigress. I’m not sure why she’s so different. It’s strange because the animals Hugo picks tend to be far less tameable than wolves and yet he has also described Mme Thenardier as essentially being tamed by her husband, since she’ll do anything he says and won’t argue despite being bigger and stronger than him.

“Darkness is dizzying. We need light; whenever we plunge into the opposite of day we feel our hearts chilled. When the eye sees darkness, the mind sees trouble.” This is such an interesting quote considering how often darkness helps save Valjean. But it’s also a quote that will be supported later on during discussions of Hugo’s social mines. Those who become accustomed to darkness, who utilize darkness, become Trouble which becomes Crime. The fact that Cosette is terrified of this darkness isn’t just an indication of her youth, it’s also an indication of her Goodness. She can navigate in the dark but she is scared of it.

“An outline of the Inconceivable emerges a few steps away with a spectral clarity. You see floating in space or in your brain something strangely vague and unseizable like the dreams of sleeping flowers.” Again, another little section where Hugo’s poetry really comes out. This visual is so pretty and almost whimsical considering he’s trying to talk about how creepy the forest at night is. These ghosts aren’t defined like the ghosts of Waterloo, and they’re not chimerical folklore like Valjean-as-the-Devil. They’re this weird in-between of terrified child and spiritual adult imagery.

Paris is also compared to a forest, and the gamin to a sparrow. But Cosette is not a sparrow, she’s a lark. It’s interesting to note that the next in line for abandonment after Cosette has left the Thenardiers is Gavroche, who has turned into a sparrow-gamin when we see him in Paris.

“Forests are apocalypses: a tiny soul’s beating wings make an agonizing sound beneath their monstrous vault.” I just finished reading Brighton Rock by Graham Greene and there’s a moment where he describes a seagull flying under a wharf as a songbird trapped in a cathedral. I get the same imagery here. This terror of something so much bigger than oneself, the need to escape, the feeling of doom or at least the feeling of being overwhelmed. A small child in the dark in a forest is like this absolute knowledge of how small and vulnerable and scared you are. And Cosette knows this; her eyes start getting wild, like she’s losing the human ability to reason and turning into that bird trapped in a cathedral, a sort of instinctive bestial fear.

(This is also the state Valjean is in when we first meet him.)

“Then, by some sort of instinct, to get out of this singular state, which she did not understand but which terrified her, she began to count aloud, one, two, three, four, up to ten, and when she had finished, she began again. This restored her to a real perception of things about her.” Cosette is able to break out of this animalistic fear-state. It’s also cool to see an example of calming techniques being used and effective 150 years ago.

This is kind of a tangent but whenever I read the sections about young Cosette with the Thenardiers I end up thinking about articles I’ve read about feral children or abusive/neglectful orphanages and how it affects the childrens’ ability to emote or the ways in which they respond to fear, threats, happiness, etc. I wonder if this ability to calm herself and pull herself out of that animalistic state is kind of this “power” Cosette has which protects her from becoming something more bestial. Her reaction to abandonment is different from Gavroche’s. Gavroche moves outward, becomes independent and social and courageous and sarcastic, connecting with everyone and no one. Cosette’s reaction is to move inward, to become speculative and quiet, to be wary of everyone and not really reach out. But this power she has prevents her from retreating too much into herself, into a place she cannot return from.

Poor Fantine sees her daughter’s fear and suffering. This is the last time, I think, that Fantine will be present in this way. Like Valjean’s whisper in her ear and the smile on the corpse’s lips, this brings Fantine to life for just a second. This reminds me of the dreams that Fantine has while Valjean is on the road to Arras. This is Fantine dreaming, this time from eternal sleep, watching as Valjean walks toward her daughter.

Although I just had a thought. When Valjean returns from Arras sans Cosette and visits Fantine, she wakes and says this to him: “Cosette? I knew you were there; I was asleep, but I saw you. I’ve been seeing you for a long time; I’ve followed you with my eyes all night. You were in a halo of glory, and all sorts of celestial forms were hovering around you.” Perhaps this dream wasn’t necessarily Fantine watching Valjean drive to Arras? Perhaps it was Fantine, so close to death, catching a glimpse behind the veil to the future her spirit will watch. Jupiter is the largest celestial body, and it’s large and visible here.

“She always imagined the Thenardiess nearby.” Ugh Cosette you poor thing. So much of her life is directed by fear and yet she has so much strength. Her strength and Valjean’s are paralleled again. She is strong enough to carry this full bucket, but she has to stop and rest, to regain her energy. But she is strong enough, just like her will is strong enough to withstand the emotional and physical abuse and abandonment she has lived with for the past 7 years. And we’ll see that strength change when she leaves but it doesn’t leave her.

“A man who had come up behind her and whom she had not heard. This man, without saying a word, had grasped the handle of the bucket she was carrying.” Valjean that’s so creepy. Valjean is magical here. Cosette is terrified; just moments ago she was hypervigilant about every sound of animals in the woods on the sides of the path. But she doesn’t hear Valjean’s approach at all, doesn’t even notice him until he lifts the bucket from her grasp. From the moment prisoner-Valjean fell from the side of the Orion, Valjean has been incorporeal. He’s no longer 9430, he’s no longer M Madeleine, and he hasn’t been mentioned since the fall. This is Valjean materializing as a new form, this poor-rich man in a yellow coat.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

A Zhang Of Redness ~ Yin Zhen x Reader

Warning: The first part has some angst to fluff, yet, if you’re brave enough to read the “Sad Ending”, then I warn you, I cried at least 6 times reading it, and 5 times at night, thinking about how to write it properly, all while listening to sad flute and zither ancient Chinese songs. I may need help.

Also, I forgot to explain, in case people don’t know:

Meimei - Term for younger sister. Jiejie - Term for older sister. Niangniang - Term for someone above in title, like an Empress or a Noble Consort. Changzai -  First-Class Female Attendant, called ‘Present’, and was the 2nd lowest title in the harem. Daying -  Second-Class Female Attendant, called ‘Promise’, lowest title in the harem. Hua Fei - It can vary as a title, but it refers to an Imperial Noble Consort. A Zhang of Redness - One of the 5 punishments from Qing Dynasty : Beating someone over the back, butt or the back of their legs with a some sort of bamboo or wooden bat/cane/rod until the tendons/muscles/bones were crushed, there was lots of blood, and the person either died or became paralysed from waist down.

Also, I got inspiration from watching the Chinese Period Drama ‘Empresses in the Palace/Legend of Zhen Huan’ that focuses on the Harem during the reign of Emperor Yongzheng, aka Yin Zhen, the 4th Prince, and Duke Guo is the 17th Prince, his brother, very young, and very close to him

“Now, Y/N, you and your sisters are of age, so you must go serve the Emperor. It will bring our family the greatest honour should you be selected as a concubine for the Emperor and bring a Prince into this world.” the father put his hands on Y/N’s shoulders, making her look at him with a blank expression, masking her disdain and disgust with excellence. “We are honoured to serve and serve our family and His Majesty, the Emperor.” she bowed gracefully, speaking with an adult maturity that many would envy. “Very well. Take care of your sisters. The Palace is a cruel place, but you, above all, must prevail and bring your sisters up with you.” were the last words her father spoke before sending off his three daughters into the carriage, ready to go with the ‘reaping’, as the eldest would call it.

Unlike her younger siblings, she prayed not to be accepted, since it would be the worst thing that could happen to her and she’d rather die than have to live in eternal imprisonment, having an old man touch her body and impregnate her, despite him being the Emperor himself.

When the three of them arrived at the Palace, and she saw the swarm of girls dressed the same, with the same accessories and hairstyles, she almost felt like puking, although she couldn’t blame them, since that’s how this lame fashion dictates.

She was the only one standing out, much like a sore thumb, completely different, both in appearance and clothing, which made her anxious and nervous, knowing very well how she will be the target of bullying, and in turn, deflect it to her unfortunate sisters as well.

Y/N was the only woman with vibrant red hair and green eyes like the evergreen forest, for her father is an Imperial merchant, and her mother was a foreigner, the most beautiful being alive, that could even compare to the Gods, and yet, the very same Gods she worshipped were cruel to her, as when she gave birth to the twins, she perished, leaving her husband heartbroken and alone to take care of his three daughters.

She didn’t wear any headpiece, nor had any intricate hairstyles, preferring to keep the upper part of her hair in a beautiful rose bun, while the lower part was let loose to cascade past her shoulders, down to her waist, like a fire waterfall. She didn’t use heavy make up, only choosing to highlight her eyes and bring out the shrewdness and brilliance in them. She didn’t wear any jewellery, save for some beautiful pink flowers carefully placed in her hair. She didn’t wear heels, for she was taller than most petite girls, and didn’t want to stand out more than she already did, and of course, she didn’t need them to highlight her grace and dignity. And, most of all, she didn’t wear the traditional clothes that every girl did, instead, worse a long, flowy dress, green, with flowers of a darker, more vibrant green - A dress that suit her like she was the embodiment of Spring, and her slender silhouette was shown off beautifully - Because, after all, this was the dress her mother sew specifically for her in the period while she was pregnant.

When the time finally came for her to present herself in front of the Emperor and the Empress Dowager, the six women walked in a straight line, in front of the Imperials...Only to see a little surprise.

Seven of his sons were there to attend, for one of them were to one day become Emperor, and they must know how things must be done.

“You...You are Y/N, I see. When your father mentioned you were beautiful, just like your mother, I couldn’t believe there could be someone even greater than Diaochan or Yang Guifei.” the Emperor chuckled, looking down at her. “Your Majesty, pardon my rudeness, yet truly, you must jest. My face does not put flowers to shame, nor does it embarrass Mother Moon herself. Likewise, I would say I that...That there are other women in history that would fit me better, should you truly wish to compare me.” she could feel the intrigued, burning gazes of everyone, and it took everything she had not to visibly gulp or show any kind of emotion. “Raise, child, and look at me. Who would you think I should compare you to?” the Emperor so gracefully talked, with the same dignity that any Imperial must have, yet now, it seemed to be warmer. “Tan Yunxian.” she spoke bluntly, her green eyes not wavering as she held eye contact with the Emperor. “Tan Yunxian...You are a bold one to speak like that. You are a sharp woman, intelligence is obviously sparkling in your eyes, you know what you want from life, and you choose to be branded a witch by practicing the medical arts that only men do and risk death, instead of aiming for a peaceful and resourceful life as a wealthy concubine and bring honour to your father. Why is that?” he asked once again, which made her bow, but not look away from him. “Most people tell the gender of a rabbit by its movement: The male runs quickly, while the female often keeps her eyes shut. But when the two rabbits run side by side, Can you really discern whether I am a he or a she? That is my reply to your question, and I would beg you to forgive my rudeness by speaking so directly, but this was never the life that fit me. The only arts that suit me are the exact ones - Healing, Calculus, Atrology, Physics, Alchemy...My sisters are much better at the arts of the heart, but I prefer to make a difference on this world. Too many women preferred to let themselves die because of scrutiny - A woman should rather starve to death than lose her chastity - they said, yet, for me, life is a sacred gift and should be treasured above all. There are no female physicians in the palace, Your Majesty, and males cannot fully comprehend the pains of a woman, nor can they properly treat one. With your grace, should you choose not to kill me, I would very much like to serve the Emperor with the way fate dictated my strengths.” she spoke without any hint of fear in her heart, already waiting for her death penalty to be told, and yet, the Emperor chuckled and looked to his right, sharing a look with one of his sons, the one dressed in vibrant gold, the one whose eyes resembled his the most. “My son, I see you are interested in this one as well. Tell me, what would you do, should you meet someone as peculiar as this one?” the Emperor asked, letting him have the final say in it. “She quotes the Ballad of Mulan so boldly, as if she herself is Mulan. Do you remember, Father, that in some stories, when Mulan was forced to join the Harem, she chose to commit suicide? I see this one none the wiser. With the proper training, she could prove to save more lives than most of those useless physicians could, I would say. She has enough fire and ambition...But What if she wavers in front of dangers?” the 4th Prince asked, almost rhetorically, only for his older brother, the 3rd Prince, to chime in. “Let’s see, then.” he shrugged, motioning for an eunuch to step forward. “Should you be able to keep looking into my eyes for the whole trial, your position as a physician will be locked.” the 4th Prince mused, his dark eyes peering into her jade like ones, and it seemed almost as if they were in a trance, and nothing around them existed anymore.

The little eunuch threw water at her feet, yet she nonchalantly stepped over it with no second thought. They made loud noises behind her, or close to her ear, yet her only interest was the beautiful dark shade of the Prince’s eyes. The test continued on, until the Prince walked forward and drew his sword, putting the tip under her chin, raising it. The silence created tension for everyone, causing her sisters to gasp and hold tightly onto each other from fear, while some labourers were confused and panicked at the sight before them, while the two only got deeper and deeper enchanted by the other. It wasn’t until one of the Gugu matrons stepped forwards with a cat held in her arms and threw it at the ground violently that the girl slapped the blade away and let herself fall to her knees to catch the poor feline, then rose back again, gently petting and calming the animal, while throwing a harsh glare at the elder woman, before turning back again to the Prince.

“You lost the trial.” he said, yet mischief was glittering in his beautiful eyes. “Life over all. ALL life over all.” she pointed out, stepping closer to the Prince, and as soon as she knew she was completely hidden by his much larger form, she smirked at him, challengingly, which made him scoff in amusement right back at her. “You lost the trial, but won the position with your virtuous, unwavering heart. Father, with your approval, I will be responsible of her, and she will be my personal physician, and the physician of all the women in the palace. Her thinking is mature, righteous and ahead of her times.” the Prince bowed in front of his father, vouching for the girl next to him, who could only look in shock at the Imperial Son who seemed to trust her so. “I dare not deserve such baseless praise. Wait until I have achieved anything of significance.” she bowed next to the Prince, letting the cat go back to its owner. “Very well, I approve of your request. From now on, Lady Y/N shall be promoted to Lady Shuyu, the Wise and Virtuous Lady, she will be taught by the imperial physicians and will report directly to you, 4th Prince. Likewise, she will be staying at the Palace closest to the Imperial Library, yet, I believe I should change its name, since it needs renovation. Do you have any preferences?” the Emperor asked, as the girl was bashfully looking at the ground, not believing that her dreams were finally becoming reality. “Father, if I may, I would suggest - Palace of the Blue Lotus - for it is the symbol of victory, intelligence, wisdom and knowledge, something that My Lady seems to be the embodiment of. I heard it once being called - The Perfection of Wisdom - and I believe it fits her very well. Look at her, with her outfit and hair, she almost looks like a Lotus flower herself, wouldn’t you say?” the 3rd Prince commented, making the Emperor nod in approval. “Very well, I agree with you, 3rd Prince. Then, Lady Y/N, until your Palace is completely renovated, you will be staying at 4th Prince’s Palace and have him look after you.” the Emperor’s order made her eyes widen and cheeks redden from embarrassment, yet she gracefully bowed in thanks for the Emperor. “Your Majesty is benevolent and kind above all, I thank you for giving me a chance.” she spoke in a much softer voice. “Look at this one, she can be anything she wants. A Hua Mulan, a Diaochan...Yet, above all, I believe she could even be the next Wu Zetian, wouldn’t you say, my Son?” the Empress Dowager spoke with a gentle smile, which made the girl gasp and bow to the ground, flustered. “Your Highness, I am undeserving of such praise! I am but a mere woman who wishes the best for her peers, but I will never be able to get close to Wu Zetian’s greatness!” she spoke rapidly, not daring raise her face to them, only to receive chuckles and laughs from the audience. “She may not be the next Wu Zetian, but she may as well be the first Y/N L/N.” the 4th Prince teased the girl as he offered his hand to help her to her feet, before pinching her reddening cheek. “Indeed, indeed! But what should I make of your sisters? You say they are talented in arts, correct? Then, I will accept them, and wait for the time they can heal my soul with their magic and grace.” the Emperor’s eyes held amusement, as all three sisters bowed in unison. “Your Majesty is great and kind above all.” 

And so, for the first time in their life, the sisters were separated from each other. While the twins enjoyed a palace to themselves and another high ranked concubine, Y/N was comfortably staying in 4th Prince’s Palace, having just one trusty maid, for more would be a hindrance, and dressing in whatever comfortable clothes she wished to wear, sown by her and her maid.

She wasn’t a fan of sewing, but she practiced it regularly because she believed having dexterous fingers meant you would be a great physician, so she continued her work, using the softest cotton bolts brought from Western countries, and she made a beautiful light pink nightgown along with a pair of shorts and embroidered small purple flowers, and since then, her sleep has been the best she’s ever had... Although the silks from her bed must have added to the comfort as well.

As thanks for the Prince, the girl decided to sew a blue pyjama from the cotton, Western bolts for the Prince with whom she was residing, and used Chinese threads of gold and violet to embroider dragons on it, wanting to make a little play on the Western symbols of royalty.

Days passed way too quickly in the Palace, as the 4th Prince was excellent company and would humour her often with a cup of tea and a lost game of chess since truly, he wasn’t the best at it yet, but the quick exchanges of wit were worth the time spent there.

When she wasn’t by his side, she would go to the swing in the Garden of Peaches all by herself and swing herself high, almost as if she was trying to reach the sky, and when returning, she would let herself lean down, to watch the clouds, all while laughing in complete freedom, just like the tale of the Crane Wife.

Every time she would stop swinging, she would take out her jade flute and, unbeknownst to her, the Prince would hide just to hear her play with such skill and emotion that it truly moved him, and he had to admit, the saddest song she played, Autumn Moon over Han Palace, the one that truly depicts the cruelty with which the young and innocent souls of young women get crushed in the palace, only to be rewarded with misfortunes and sorrow, and he knew then that there was no way he would let anyone harm her.

The Emperor made him look after her, and so, he will.

“4th Prince, now that I shall not be living in your Palace anymore, I should thank you for your hospitability and kindness for the time I bothered you and invaded your privacy. Please accept my humble gifts for you, as a thank you for all the goodness you’ve showed me.” she personally handed him the boxes of gifts, since it was too personal to let her maid handle this matter. “I thank you for the gifts, yet you need not thank me for something so trivial. Congratulations in moving in your own Palace, little Lotus, but don’t forget that this has been your home too, and you are always welcomed here. I have also sent you gifts at your new residence, I wish you will use them with a smile on your face.” the prince spoke, putting the boxes on the table and petting her hair gently. “Without all the snark and witty comments, I almost don’t recognise you, Yin Zhen. Could you perhaps be ill?” she scoffed in amusement, making the man flick her forehead. “Going by how red your cheeks are, I’d say you’re the one who caught a fever.” he spoke with an obvious undertone. “How rude of you, Prince! Don’t you know it’s unfair to tease a lady?” she pointed out with a flustered scowl on her face. “Sister, weren’t you the one who once that that if a man teases a woman, he must be in love with her?” a soft, yet playful voice came from behind Y/N, which made her yelp in surprise and turn around in shock. “You’re horrible sisters, you know that, don’t you? I only said that so you’d feel good about your little, young selves, when the general’s son came over to visit father!” she sighed, looking away. “He doesn’t matter anymore! Now, look at you, the most favoured woman in the Palace by the Emperor, the Empress, the Dowager AND the Princes! We couldn’t compete with that, even now that we both served the Emperor and we were barely given the title of “Changzai”, and that’s mostly thanks to your influence and the fact that you helped the Lady of Morality give birth to the Princess.” Liyan spoke out, tugging on one of the arms of the elder sister. “It’s a bit weird if you think about it. Y/N Jiejie is over here, falling for the Emperor’s son, while we are pillow mates with the Emperor. He’s older than father!” Xiyan spoke so shamelessly, tugging on the other arm, that it made the poor elder sister blush deeply, and putting her hands on the back of their heads, she hit their heads together. “Liyan Meimei and Xiyan Meimei should learn how to be less vulgar and have some shame! Now, if you would excuse me, I must go do a regular check up on the Noble Consort’s pregnancy, I have no time for your foolish nonsense. I bid you all farewell.” she gave a sarcastic bow to the three before rushing out of that place. “I haven’t seen Jiejie so flustered before. Remember when that young poet came over and started playing the zither and singing for her, and she still turned him down?” Xiyan giggled, intertwining her fingers with her twin. “Yes, I remember! And it was the famous JiKang, the best zither player in the country! It’s a pity, really, I remember Jiejie saying how much she’d have liked to be free and travel the world, but she has to honour her duty to her family, otherwise she will be a disgrace and get killed.” Liyan sighed, looking away. “If your sister heard you gossiping like that about her, she’d get very upset at you. Now run along, you two.” Yin Zhen commented with a hint of playfulness, ushering the two sisters to scatter.

Days and nights went by fast, and Y/N was quickly climbing the ranks of a physician due to her hard working and witty disposition, and yet, when winter came and snow started falling hard, and the Consort was now 5 months pregnant, and need to have her regular check up.  As Y/N gave her the medicine to drink, the consort started screaming in pain and collapsed on the bed, her nether regions bleeding. She was having a miscarriage. With the help of a few maids and physicians, she managed to stop the bleeding and keep her stable, but she knew very well it would be hell once everyone finds out about the loss of the Imperial offspring...

And the consort was a truly vengeful one.

“How could you...?! How could you?! You insolent wretch, you made me lose my child!” the consort was livid, thrown things at the girl who was trying to calm her down. “Hua Fei Niangniang, what have you been eating and drinking recently? Perhaps there may have been something put in your food or tea? Or perhaps the fragrances or incenses?” she tried to ask, but it was to no avail. The consort was so upset that the Emperor himself, along with the Empress, the Dowager, the Harem and the Princes had to come and console her. “Emperor! Emperor! This stupid bitch is jealous that you favour me and made sure I have a miscarriage! It happened just as I drank the medicine from her!” the consort threw herself in the Emperor’s arms, sobbing loudly. “Medicine takes at least half a day to act, and you barely took a sip from it. I’m asking again, has your food and drink intake been properly taken care of?” Y/N asked once again, in a gentle voice, hoping to have an answer...But none came, only screeches. “You vile devil! You came here to have all women of the Harem miscarry! You want favour all to yourself! That’s why you walk around the Princes like a fox, drawing them in! You’re a lust demon! Get the guards and take her! Make her punishment be fitting to her hair! A Zhang of Redness!” she shrieked, making all the women gasp in shock. “Your Highness, I have nothing to do with Niangniang’s miscarriage. You can have any physician look over the tea I prepared and all the prescriptions I gave her, and none of them hold any abortifacient plants. I rest my case, and I will investigate the causes of the miscarriage, and should it have been my mistake, I will accept such a punishment. If not, then I beg for Your Majesty’s mercy.” Y/N bowed deeply to the ground in front of the Emperor, who seemed to nod in understanding. “Very well. I won’t offer you much time, but until then, you have all resources at hand. Everyone is dismissed.” and thus, they all left...Except for the 4th Prince who crouched and helped the girl up, his expression unreadable. “You truly know how to get yourself in trouble, don’t you?” he spoke with obvious concern. “Though I withdraw my sword to cut the water, it still runs. I toast to dispel worry, and create more worry…The water still flows, though we cut it with our swords, And sorrow returns, though we drown it with wine…” she muttered, looking ahead of her, in the void of emptiness that became her heart. “You once said you were not talented in arts, yet here you are, quoting Li Bai. You will always be a surprise, won’t you?” Yin Zhen cast her a half smile, which she returned. “It only fits. Now go. The Emperor will have my head should I let a man rummage through a woman’s belongings.” she sighed, turning around to investigate the place, while hearing the taunts of the consort...Until she found a cup that oddly smelled like green papaya, and a mortar and pestle that still had some cinnamon and pomegranate seeds powder in it. Afraid that the consort would realise she found the incriminatory objects, she took out a bag and threw it on the table, feigning that she putting all her medical belongings back in the bag, only to have the cup and mortar taken as well, and with a bow, she hurried to her Palace to study them.

She didn’t know much about such plants since they weren’t exactly used in medicine, and yet, she had to study them, while hiding the bag with incriminatory objects very well.

It was a cold, yet beautiful snowy night, and Y/N felt so crushed by fear from the recent events, that without realising, stepped outside, her feet dragging her to Yin Zhen’s Palace, and she had no idea until his Eunuch spoke to her, welcoming her inside and scolding her for not wearing something warmer, before having the maids prepare tea and telling the Prince about her arrival.

Silence took over them as they played chess and drinking tea, yet her mind was somewhere else completely, making her lose for the first time...But he wasn’t surprised in the least.

“What did you find out?” he asked bluntly. “Do you hate me, Yin Zhen?” she asked, using one of her silver ring claws to stir the tea in her cup. “Why would you ask something like that...? Do you suspect me of framing you, or what?” he asked, shock obvious in his voice, until he realised the tears that were falling down her face. “Then...Why...? I...I thought you...Of all people...Wouldn’t...” Y/N was unable of cursive, coherent words as she raised her finger to eye level, showing that the silver claw became back. “I did NOT poison your tea! Shu Pei Gong, who prepared this tea? I want them brought here and held responsible right now!” the rage the Prince felt was immense, but he knew now to let feelings overtake his ration. “What did I do to deserve such hatred...? I’m not part of the harem, I never hurt anyone, I’ve always been respectful and helped everyone, I never wished for promotions, titles, ranks or favours...So why...Why...?! Why is this happening to me?!” she cried out, her heart suffering greatly, enough so that before he could say anything, she ran out again, taking a shortcut through the Plum garden, where she let herself fall to the ground, the freezing cold unbothering to her, as she felt as cold as ice from the constant heartache she suffered.

She hated the colour red, it was everywhere, yet people didn’t understand why she’d despise such a beautiful colour. It was the colour of her hair, the colour of Maple leaves, the colour of Plum blossoms, and of course, the colour of blood.

Blood, for that’s all she was seeing - Laying there, on the pure white snow, crystals falling from the sky, covering her in a soft blanket, the shade of her skin, contrasting her hair, her flowers and...The blood from her injury.

But as the dark abyss of death started taking over her senses, she saw two little jades that appeared and disappeared just like shy will’o’wisp spirit orbs.

What was in her head, running away like that, in the dead of such a freezing night, and why the Plum Garden that is like a crimson maze that could have served as her resting place.

Who would have known she would be so sensitive, Yin Zhen thought, and yet, he is her confidante, and she thought he poisoned her, which would be a shock for everyone, especially after everything going on in her life.

She looked so petite in his large bed, in his own pyjamas, as her own clothes were soaked from the snow and she’s already shivering, the last thing he’d want is for her to get deadly ill.

“Your Majesty, a blow to the back of her head with a blunt object cause her collapse and fainting, but the coldness worsened her health. She will need to rest and take medicine regularly. And...As much as possible, she must not stress, mentally, emotionally or physically.” the physician bowed to the Prince as he sat on the edge of the bed, gingerly brushing away the hair from her face. “Easier said than done when you’re dealing with such a stubborn hard-head...You may go now. I will look after her.” the Prince dismissed the physician who kowtow-ed and left the place that got quiet...So quiet...Save for her unconscious shivering. “What will I do with you, Y/N? How can I save you when you run away from me?” he muttered, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “You should have left me there.” a soft whisper was her, as the girl opened her glistering eyes. “Don’t speak such nonsense.” he scolded her, yet his eyes were gentle. “What is death if not a blessing in disguise? For unfortunate people like me, only followed by misfortune...What is there to live for? Instead of investigating her case, I should have let her punish me. It would have been less painful than my discovery.” her voice was devoid of any life, yet the tears that delicately made their ways down her cheeks were enough proof of sorrow and heart break. “What are you talking about, Y/N? What did you discover?” he asked, his attention not wavering from her. “Wu Zetian? Diaochan? Hua Mulan? Tan Yunxian? Yang Guifei? What the hell was in my head? The only thing I could share with them is a broken heart. Why did I even dare to think that I, as a woman, would have any chance to achieve happiness and freedom? I can’t even try to be Lin Siniang, for I have no martial arts, and I can’t go and die in battle for someone. I’m completely and utterly useless.” the girl sighed, turning her back to the Prince, letting her hair drape over her face to avoid being seen. “Y/N, I am your confidante, tell me what happened. When you feel like you can’t trust anyone, not even your family, or the world, I will be here to listen and be honest with you, no matter what. I promise.” he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace, stroking her hair to calm her down, yet in only generated in her sobbing. “When I was struck and fell, I feigned being dead. I kept my eyes half-open, and I didn’t blink. I stopped breathing and looked up at the sky. And despite my blurring vision, I saw a pair of green orbs. And then, I heard a giggle, and a word. Just one word. You know what it was? They said - Finally - and then left. Do you understand what I mean, Yin Zhen?” she asked, letting go of him and looking him straight in the eyes. “You don’t mean...?” his eyes widened with surprise, not having expected something like that. “When I investigated the consort’s room, I found a cup that smelled of papaya and a mortar with cinnamon and pomegranate seeds. When she wasn’t looking, I stole them and went home to read more about these. My sisters visited me that night and we discussed about those items...And it was then that I found out that those plants cause natural, spontaneous abortions. They said they were worried about me...And then...They snitched on me to the consort. My maid warned me there were suspicious people lurking around so I secretly left my Palace and came to yours after taking the longest and darkest route. Somehow, they managed to make me paranoid enough by poisoning my tea in your own house...And I got scared and ran away. I was going to seek refuge at the Dowager, until the consort’s eunuch found me and yanked me over the head. That’s when I saw my sister’s eyes...The very same eyes that I hold...And most likely, they stole the items from my Palace and disposed of them...So what is there to live for, anyway?” she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder, weeping silently. “You have me and I will help you out. I won’t let anyone punish you, I promise you that.” he cupped her face, making her look at him with her sad, doe-like eyes. “Even if I escape punishment, who can mend my shattered heart? My father never supported my passions, so I did everything in secret...And my own sisters plotted and went against me, for some reason that I’m completely unaware of, considering I always took care of them, sent them any riches I had and got them out of trouble...And there’s no way I will ever escape the hell from the harem wrath, even if I’m not part of it. I am lost with no place to call home and nobody to love me. I should just go end myself with some wine, out in the Plum Garden. It would be a very fitting end with no pain. Very beautiful...Maybe some music would have made it perfect - “ she kept talking in self-deprecation, not realising how it upset the man in front of her, until he stopped her by kissing her with enough fire to begin the melting process over the frozen pieces of her heart, “Stop speaking like that, you are upsetting me. How can I marry you and spend the rest of my life with you by my side, if you let the world get to you and kill you?” he was scolding her in a gentle manner, his hand on top of her head, putting his forehead to hers. “How can I not, when my own sisters, that I raised and took care of since mother died, plotted my death and were happy to see me fall? My own family, Yin Zhen! How can I bare with that?!” her voice was full of emotions of all kinds, desperate to have someone to cling on. “Those who wish ill on you are not your family, even though you are bound by blood. You have me, Y/N. I vow to you, I would never leave you alone. I will always be there for you, no matter what, and I will never let anyone hurt you again.” the man said, making the girl sigh and shake her head. “What are you trying to say, Yin Zhen? There’s only so long until you’ll become the Emperor. Even if you want to, you won’t have the time to even remember I exist. And you will be busy with all your concubines every night. Don’t vow what cannot happen, or you will anger the Gods. Be realistic. You know how I am. I refuse to bare children, I refuse to deal with the harem. I will get jealous, and in the end, you will end up hurting me more than my own family did.” she hung her head, wiping away the stray tears. “When I become Emperor, I will be able to do anything I want to. It’s true, I will need heirs, but that’s what the harem is about, but that doesn’t mean I won’t hold you in my arms every night. You will be Empress, and you will help me with matters of the Palace. If the Consort can deal with the harem now, she can do so when I reign as well. Not to mention, the current Empress favours you, she will be kind with you once she becomes Dowager.” he explained reassuringly, which made her look up at him slowly. “Do you vow you always love me the most and have me and only me as your priority? And you will listen to me when I talk. And we will still hang out at midnight in the Cherry Garden, we will still go swimming, or swinging in the Peach Garden, we will still play the Zither and Flute together and you will still compliment me over the littlest things, no matter what?” Y/N spoke a bit more harshly, to get her point across, which only made the man chuckle. “I vow that I will still be your Confidante, and you will be mine, and things between us won’t change even when I become Emperor. Who else could sew me such comfortable pyjamas and then wear them much better than I do?” he pinched her cheek before kissing her forehead tenderly. “That’s because I have style. Now...Tell me, what should I do?” and her reply came in the form of a scoff of amusement as the Prince pulled her to his chest, making her sit on his lap. “Sometimes I wish you were more ruthless, little fox. But it’s fine, I will be ruthless enough for the both of us. Just trust me, and tomorrow, we’ll go together and prove your innocence once and for all.” he declared in a voice fit for an Emperor, before putting one hand on the back of her neck, while the other was on her waist, and pulling her flush against his chest, he kissed her, gently at first, to make sure she wouldn’t shatter in front of him like a precious china doll, only to gradually become more and more passionate.

And once again, just like when they first met, they locked tender gazes and got lost in their own paradise - You are mine and you can only be mine - He’d think, just for a split second, as he continued kissing and touching her skin, softer than any cloud.

The next day marked the beginning of his vow, as she woke up with his arms draped around her small form and him stroking her hair gently, before they got dressed properly and went to her palace, the Blue Lotus, only to find her maid freaking out and checking her for any injuries.

When they explained to her what happened, Shi Lian grinned and ran to fetch a bag that she buried in a secret place under the snow, revealing the incriminatory objects that she risked so much for. The maid then pointed out that some eunuchs came over and tried to search the place, with the help of one of her sisters, only to find nothing and return fearfully to the noble consort, their mission failed.

Wait until they see she isn’t dead, really.

And so, Yin Zhen baited the sisters into going to the consort’s house, and told the Emperor to wait outside of the door and listen, only interfering if and when he sees fit.

“4th Prince, what ever could be the reason for summoning us like that?” the consort asked with a feign-innocent smirk o her face. “I believe it’s high time to finish investigating a crime, correct, consort? The mystery behind your miscarriage?” Yin Zhen’s eyes were sharp, yet victorious. “Ahh, yes, but wasn’t it confirmed to be that woman physician’s negligence?” she preferred to fake admiring her hand jewellery, instead of looking at the prince. “That is quite the narrative you painted, isn’t it? Painted with her blood, and the blood of my father’s offspring. Clearly, there is no shameful level of low-ness that you wouldn’t stoop to, just to gain my father’s attention and favour, isn’t it? Even going as far as to frame the only physician who would properly be able to heal you and the women of the Palace. She fought hard to convince my Imperial Father, the Emperor, to allow her to be a medicine practitioner, with you in her mind, not her own well-being. You must truly be cruel and desperate to want to get the Emperor’s favour that badly, again. You must know you’re getting old and ugly, and you won’t be my Father’s favourite anymore...And his favourites will be the newer concubines...Like Y/N’s sisters, who have unique, green eyes, unlike all the other women here.” the Prince hit the nail spot on, making the consort look at him with fear and indignation. “U-Uhm, Prince, I know you favoured Y/N Jiejie, but why are you dragging us into this?” Liyan asked cautiously. “Because the consort came to you with an alliance - If you get rid of Y/N, you won’t bully the sisters for being young and favoured. However, the sisters were jealous of Y/N of having favour from everyone without having to conform to the norms every woman has to, for she is not a concubine, therefore, she had nothing to fight for except your lives. To think that her own sisters that she took care of would plot her own demise without a single speck of regret. You caught her when she was most vulnerable, alone, in the Plum Garden, then had some eunuch strike her over the head with a wooden bat. Truly horrific to think family would behave like this.” the Prince played the detective part, explaining the story he heard from the girl herself. “What gives you the right to accuse us of such treacheries?! We would never hurt Jiejie!” Xiyan growled at the man, only for a surprise to happen, as the woman in cause entered the scene dramatically. “Wouldn’t you?” Y/N asked in a low voice, earning gasps of shock from the 3 other women. “J-Jiejie! You’re alright! You’re alive!” Xiyan’s lips quivered, as her eyes were darting between her sister and the consort. “Why wouldn’t I be alive, Xiyan Meimei? Was something supposed to happen that would guarantee my imminent death?” Y/N tilted her head slightly to the side, staring deep into her sister’s eyes, searching for the truth. “N-No, of course not! Why ever would you claim something so cruel?” Xiyan chuckled nervously, walking a few feet backwards. “All my life I thought myself the family disappointment since I never was the perfect woman that father wanted me to be, to bring honour to the family...But I know for sure that I never raised a liar or a traitor. You are a disappointment. To think you’d partner up with the consort to kill me, and then, when I talked to you about the evidence I found in her palace, you’d try to kill me and steal the objects. My maid is my family more than you ever were.” Y/N shook her head in disappointment, taking out the bag, which made the three women widen their eyes in horror, knowing very well what was going to happen. “Look at them, they are already pissing themselves with fear. They know what is in them.” Yin Zhen scoffed at them. “This is the consort’s cup, from which she drank Green Papaya juice...And this is a mortar in which cinnamon and pomegranate seeds were crushed into a powder. All of these are known to naturally induce abortions, so it’s no wonder she had a miscarriage when I gave her the medicine. You wanted the attention and to kill me, so what better way to do so than to frame me, punish me yourself, and have the Emperor hate me and potentially kill me? A Zhang of Redness, you said. How cruel of you, Consort.” Y/N taunted her once again, showing the evidence, putting them on the table. “You’re insane! This is a conspiracy! You have 4th Prince’s and you got him to conspire against me! You’re the worst!” the Consort shrieked at the girl, almost getting physically aggressive, until the Emperor himself stepped in the room. “That’s enough! How shameless can you be? I understand being jealous of the women of the harem, but of someone who is here only to save your lives? Impertinent!” the Emperor’s booming voice resounded throughout the room, drowning out the consort’s whinings for a little while. “Y/N, you have been the wronged one here, I will let their punishment be of your choosing, no matter how harsh. I will take my leave now, I cannot stand to look at these wretches anymore.” and so, he left the place, letting the consort grovel on the ground, helplessly, shrieking in the worst high-pitched voice. “All’s well when it ends well, I’d say.” Y/N muttered, looking at her two little sisters. “What do you two have to say in your defense?” “We are sorry, Y/N Jiejie, we were wrong! Please, forgive us!” the twins jumped on her, hugging her tightly, stunning the poor girl. “How cruel. You know she’s soft hearted so you try to play her again. You are shameless leeches.” Yin Zhen spoke out, seeing the conflict in his lover’s eyes...Only for her to gasp suddenly and widen her eyes in shock. “Finally...Huh? You’re truly the worst...Yin Zhen told me to be more ruthless...Perhaps I should begin now.” with a pained expression on her face, she pushed the sisters away from her, revealing the bleeding stab wound from her abdomen. “How many more times are you going to try to kill me? As many times needed until you finally succeed...But you think a tiny blade like this will do the trick? If poison, a bat to the head and the freezing cold didn’t kill me, this is nothing more than a mosquito’s bite for me.” Y/N looked at Liyan with disgust as she snatches away the dagger by the blade, throwing it away.  “Y/N...!” Yin Zhen looked in horror at the wound that kept bleeding and bleeding, staining the green material of her beautiful dress. “This all began when you wanted to punish me with A Zhang of Redness. My hair is red. The Plum blossoms are red. My spilled blood was red as well. Now, it’s your turn. All three of you, I punish you with a Zhang of Redness, and should you live, I will take away all your titles and riches. Hopefully, you will see what I felt when I realised that death would be a blessing, rather than living. Enjoy your lives as paralysed traitors, you three.” despite the single tear straying down her face, Y/N’s eyes were cold and merciless, at least just for then, as hearing her little sisters scream, sob and plea for her to have mercy on them and forgive them was something that unavoidably crushed her, but there was nothing she could do about it anymore. “Every day with you is like watching a dramatic tragedy at the opera.” the prince sighed, picking her up carefully and bringing her to his palace, so the physicians would tend to her wound. “Isn’t my life a tragedy enough as it is, without you having to remind me?” she scoffed, turning away from him. “It won’t be anymore, my dear. I promise you.” and with that, Yin Zhen embraced Y/N once again, taking away all her sorrows, at least for the night, and many more other nights.

~~~ I also have a Sad Ending, read at your own risk. If I were you, I wouldn’t read it, but we all know how some need angst to live ~~~

But years passed faster than the blink of an eye, and as the norm asked for, problems still surrounded everyone in the Palace, since it wouldn’t be the Imperial Court otherwise.

It was needless to say was still mourning not having her sisters around anymore, as one of them died, while the other remained paralysed in the Cold Palace, and as soon as her father came by to sell his Western products and found out the fate of his children, he blamed Y/N for being heartless and bringing dishonor to their family by being the complete opposite of what a woman should be.

And so...They weren’t so young anymore, but double the age from when they met, and Yin Zhen now became Emperor Yongzheng, and Y/N was his Empress, just as promised.

At first, he was loyal to his vow - No matter who he’d be forced to visit for the night, he’d still return to her and hold her in his arms until the light of morning creeped through the windows, waking them up, but time is a feeble enemy, and words are easily forgotten.

Daily, became Weekly, just like Weekly, became Monthly.

He would barely come by to visit, let alone spend the night with her, and meals together were as scarce as trustworthy people in the palace.

Every day, she was forced to wake up and get ready to welcome all the concubines who had to pay their respects to her, only to be mocked for not being the Emperor’s favourite anymore.

It wasn’t like she couldn’t complain too much to the Dowager, as she already tried to remind her Son multiple times not to forget and neglect his own Empress, his own wife and beloved for so many ages, and yet, it only worked for a little time, and so, realising how she was being problematic to everyone by complaining about her loneliness, only to get shut down and reminded that that is the fate of any woman...

A woman, more alone now than ever before.

She would often go out to the special places she shared with Yin Zhen, often lost in thought, as memories kept flooding her mind and damaging her heart, only to realise that no matter how much she’d try to keep herself busy, her mind would still fly over to him.

She would try to practice the flute and zither from dusk till dawn, and even to the latest hours in the night, only for him not to even remember she could play, and asking the younger, pretties concubines to play, at all banquets held.

She would practice all kinds of intricate dances, wearing the flowiest of dresses that looked like the river, only to hear that she should settle for clothing fit for her age, and see him dancing with other women in the light of the moon.

She would sew random brocades and threads in whatever piece of garment she could think of, only to then throw it in the fire in frustration, knowing he hasn’t worn anything she’s made for him lately.

She would practice calligraphy until the candles were almost burnt and her eyes were burning from the sleep depravation and straining, only to rip the books apart, noticing the tears, smudges and shakiness on the pages.

For a while, she refused to leave her palace completely, only to realise her thoughts were much darker when alone, so she would walk through the secluded gardens and weep on the now deserted swing from the Peach Garden.

No matter how much she tried, her poor maid, Shi Lian, could never make her happy again, for the only one who can mend a broken heart is the one who threw it to the ground in the first place, but he was too busy with others, and Shi Lian was so angry at the Emperor, pitying the poor woman, especially since she, herself, was married and with children.

But she was happy, and Y/N was at least happy for her good fortune. At least she, her only friend, deserves to be happy.

On one winter day, the Emperor held a banquet, declaring that a famous Zither player would entertain them, and as customs said, the Empress must, too, attend, but big was her shock when she recognised that beautiful and otherwise stoic man with silver hair, whose emotions coloured the worlds while playing the instrument, and she couldn’t help but cry when she heard ‘Autumn Moon over the Han Palace’ and ‘Plum-Blossoms in Three Movements’ , songs which reminded her of her younger self, and the time he started courting her, before she chose duty over happiness and entered the Palace.

What a foolish decision. Instead of living for herself, she always lived for others, which only caused her sorrow and misfortune. Maybe she deserves it, and this is her karma for being such an idiot.

After the banquet was ready, she went to talk to the musician alone, who clearly recognised her as soon as he first laid his eyes upon her still beautiful face.

“Not even time can destroy such beauty. My heart is happy seeing you again, Y/N. And I see you became the Empress.” JiKang spoke, his voice warmer now than with anyone else. “Time is cruel, for it destroys words and promises. I am an Empress over nothing but the ashes of my own heart and the disrespect I receive from everyone. You, however, seem to be thriving as usual. I can only guess how many places you’ve visited thus far, and how much you’ve learned over the years. I truly envy you.” she spoke with sorrow and helplessness. “Women are forced to choose duty over themselves. If you, however, wish to defy all laws, my offer still stands.” he spoke, taking her hands in his, rubbing them comfortingly. “If I could turn back time, I would give up everything, just to be with you. To be free. To have someone who wouldn’t lie to me for decades and then forget I exist. I only wished to learn, love, and be happy...But I suppose I was too greedy to even dare wish for good fortune on myself. Which is why, I cannot leave without first talking to the Emperor. If I leave without another word, he would hunt me down, and kill you, above all else, and that is not something that I would ever wish for. I will tell him to fake my death and get another Empress. If he accepts, I will come with you. If not...Then...” she trailed on, sighing, without having the strength to utter those dreaded words. “Then, I will return to you another time and play songs, to mend your heart.” the Zither player promised, only for a brief silence to take over, as her green eyes, once full of life, like the evergreen forest, were as dead as the ashes of a pine tree. “...There will be no next time.” her sentence was coded, but him, as an emotional person, was the one who understood her the best. “Then I shall create a score and play the ‘Requiem for God’s Caged Bird’ and ‘The Lovely Fox Spirit and The Wavering Dragon’ in your honour, wherever I go.” was his last promise to her, as he watched her small form become no more in front of his very eyes.

And it was true, he never saw her, for the discussion between the Emperor and the Empress went as bad as it could get, even going as far as to strike her face, which reminded her of yet another promise that he broke. It should be all of them, by now, she thought, as she looked at him with an exhausted expression.

“You promised me so many things, and in the end, you broke all of them. Thank you, my darling Yin Zhen, for reminding me that I’ve been nothing more than your caged song bird that you forgot and threw in another room, in cold and darkness, to slowly starve and die in agony. The least you could have done was to fake my death and let me be happy, for the few years that I had left on this world. But, of course, nobody from your collection can escape, can they? Next time, I would suggest Zhen Huan, she is a lovely girl, and you love her the most, and in turn, she truly loves you. Just...Make sure not to treat her the same way you did with me...Goodbye, my beloved Yin Zhen. I truly loved you...And I still do.” she spoke...And then she left, not giving him the chance to say another word.

But that all happened during day light, as the next night, the true banquet would take place, to celebrate New Year’s Day, and JiKang would play once again.  And she wasn’t there, just as he’d expected. And he played more beautifully, more emotionally, than he ever did in his entire life, showing how much he cherished her, and how angry and frustrated he is with the Emperor took her away from him, mistreated her, constantly lying and breaking her heart.

“Shi Lian, my dear, why are you still here? You should be with your family, not with some old, pitiful woman like myself.” Y/N spoke from her writing table as she finished a note, putting her seal over it, and folding it so its contents won’t be seen. “Your Majesty, don’t be silly! I am your maid, I will always be here for you!” she chuckled brightly, which made the Empress give her a sad smile, her heart hurting as if impaled, once again. “Well...I won’t be going to the Banquet tonight, that much is clear. I can hear the beautiful music from over here. Here, take this. Give it to the Emperor’s Head eunuch as fast as possible, and tell him to give it to the Emperor when he wakes up in the morning, otherwise, nobody is allowed to read it, okay?” she said, wiping a few tears. “Yes, Your Majesty, I will hurry there right now!” the maid said, but before she left, the Empress rose to her feet, pulling her into an embrace. “Thank you, Shi Lian. You have been my only friend all this time. Thank you for everything. Now, please, after you’re done with this task, go stay with your family. I will have an early night...I am extremely tired.” she stroked her hair, almost in a motherly way, which confused the maid, but nonetheless, smiled at her master. “No, Master, thank you for being the amazing woman that you are. It’s an honour being by your side!” she bowed slightly, before rushing to the door. “Sweet dreams, Y/N Niangniang!” Shi Lian grinned cheerfully before taking off to the palace. “...I’m sure I will.” Y/N sighed, taking a bag and going to the Plum Garden, wearing nothing but her pyjamas.

She sat down on the soft grass, ignoring the cold that was paralysing her senses, and she took out the bottle of red wine, pouring herself a cup, before letting it spill on the ground. Then, she took a sachet, pouring its powdery contents into the bottle, and started rapidly gulping it down, letting the burning sensation in her throat be the only warm part in her body.  When the bottle was finally empty, she put it back in the bag, taking out a beautifully engraved vertical jade flute, that Yin Zhen gifted her after winning the competition where he played the zither, against the Princess of Western Liang, and so, she let all her emotions flow and be scattered all over China, through the wind, propelled by the sound of the instrument, all while the snowflakes were beautifully dancing around her, creating different accessories embellished with ice, that would set down on her, making her look like a Snow Empress.

If it weren’t for the tragic truth, she would look almost ethereal - With her white face, and white nightgown, the white decor, the green eyes and flute...The red hair, the red wine, the red plum blossoms...And the red blood.

She played and wept until she couldn’t feel her fingers anymore, not her frozen lips, as the flute fell from her hands and she let herself sit back on the bed of snow, looking up at the sky, just as she did, over 20 years ago.

Her death was tragically beautiful, just as she said back then.

“I should just go end myself with some wine, out in the Plum Garden. It would be a very fitting end with no pain. Very beautiful...Maybe some music would have made it perfect.” that’s what she said, long ago, and remembering her own words, she let darkness take over her, greeting it with a smile on her face - A smile, after decades of weeping.

A true smile.

The next morning, the Emperor woke up, with the beautiful Zhen Huan by his side, and his Head Eunuch waiting for him for any command. 

“Your Majesty, the Empress’ maid came by yesterday, saying that Her Majesty instructed her that you should be reading this now, in the morning, as you’ve waken up. She said she doesn’t know what it contains, as Her Majesty was secretive, but she said Her Majesty was behaving a bit...Odd.” the Eunuch explained the situation, as the Emperor, nodded with a grunt of approval, taking and unfolding the scroll that was neatly written in her beautiful calligraphy.

My Darling Yin Zhen,

To think that this is what time had in store for us...It’s almost pitiful to think that we would grow apart like this, considering how close we used to be at the beginning, when you were still a Prince, and we didn’t have any real worries on our shoulders.

Now, here we are, the same way we promised we would never become - Enstranged.

I missed you so much, every day and every night - I would always look at you, and see you, yet you never spared a glance my way anymore.

Saying that I used to be jealous is an understatement, I warned you of that before I even accepted to be with you, yet I never imagined that this would become beyond that, and that I would die of a broken heart, for my missing beloved.

Every day, I would count the promises and vows you made for me, and every day, I would cross them, one by one, and crush a flower in my hands, for every broken one, until there was nothing left.

You promised you would love me, and only me, but as soon as the Palace became flooded with gorgeous concubines, all yours to take, your heart forgot me, and it split all its love to all the women that you shared your bed with, and so, I crushed a Lotus flower.

Your promised you would always hold me in your arms at night, no matter of the woman you’d have to do your Imperial Duty with, and yet, it didn’t take long for you to remember that my bed was made for the both of us, and so, I crushed a Cherry blossom.

You promised you will always tease me, flick my forehead and pinch my cheeks, then kiss them, only for you to cast cold eyes at me whenever I spoke or did something silly, letting the Consort or Dowager deal with me, while you would play and to the same things you used to do with me, with other women, and so, I crushed a Plum blossom.

You used to compliment me on all my small achievements, no matter how silly or insignificant they were, but now, you gave away all the clothes I sew you, all the snacks, cakes and tea I would make you, and all the accessories I would spend days and night to make, and so, I crushed a Begonia flower.

You used to point out how my eyes were sparkling with life and joy whenever I was around you, and how all colours looked amazing on me, you said I was the Empress of Flowers, and yet, ever since you became Emperor, only dark eyes sparkle with happiness around you, and you said I should wear clothes for my age and stop fooling around, and so, I crushed a Peony.

You used to always accompany me whenever I played music, we even beat the Princess of Western Liang together, I with the flute, that you later gifted me, and you with the zither, and after that, you even gifted me that amazing Liang hair ornament...Only for you to forget that I can play musical instruments too, and only let the younger girls perform for you, and so, I crushed a Chrysanthemum.

You used to kiss me with so much love and passion, warming up and mending by broken, frozen heart, as you promised nothing in this life would ever hurt me again, and I would never be alone, and yet, you are the one who completely crushed me, forgetting about me, as if I was some ugly, ragged old doll, thrown away and forgotten by time and life, and so, I crushed a Camellia.

You used to be my confidante, my best and only friend, we trusted each other with all our secrets and gossips, and only each other, and yet, you completely stopped talking to me, making other confidantes now, and here I am, having no one but my maid to talk with, as my last living sister hates me eternally, and rightfully so, and so, I crushed a Narcissus.

You used to take me out at midnight and dance under the veil of stars, under the healing, guarding, loving light of Mother Moon, and we would confess our undying love for each other, and yet, nothing is eternal, and your love for me extinguished like the fire from a candle, and reignited on many other candles, and so, I crushed an Azalea.

But most importantly...

You promised that, no matter what, our hearts will always belong to each other, and nobody else - I kept my end of the promise, but you broke it as soon as you took the throne, and I watched you run further and further away from me, while I was wilting away, exhausted, starving, alone...And so...I crushed a thorny Rose...And let the blood spill on the pure snow...The same pure snow that was my life and innocence which you tainted with your negligence and lies.

The least you could have done was to let me live, at least for now, but it is as you once said - ‘Don’t look at other men, don’t leave me. You are mine, and you can only be mine’ - such an innocent phrase, that only applied to you, not to me, as I had to share you with countless women, yet you didn’t even let me tug on the last string of hope that coincidentally found itself in front of me. 

It was a mirage, just like the happiness you promised me, and no matter how much I tried to run, the image became further and further distant, until my legs gave up, and I began crawling...And crawling...Until it disappeared completely, and I lay grieving on the deserted snow, warmer than your own ice-cold heart.

I should have chosen happiness over duty - I should have eloped with JiKang back then, before I chose to honour everyone and come into the Palace, but that was my biggest mistake, and my greatest downfall - I met you, and as soon as I looked into your eyes, I was trapped.

I was truly nothing more than your caged songbird, and once you got tired of my song, you threw away the key, and my cage in some forgotten chamber, scary, away from any form of life, darker and colder than anything, even Hell.

But it’s fine.

In the end, if it wasn’t true for you, it was true for me, and on my last seconds alive, as I lay on the blanket of snow, just as I told you back then, listening to my own Requiem being played at the Banquet, I count the falling snowflakes, and with each of them, I would think of a beautiful moment that we shared together, and my heart, despite being shattered, smiled, after ages of forgetting how to.

I am happy, at least now, as I lay dying, knowing that I will finally see my beloved Yin Zhen again, as you took him away from me - You, Emperor Yongzheng, destroyed the love between me, Y/N, a simple physician, and Yin Zhen, the 4th Prince, who truly loved me with all of his heart, and I, in turn, loved him with every fiber of my very being.

I blame you, Emperor Yongzheng, for taking my beloved away from me, and taking my youth and heart and locking them in a cell, but at least now, I know that I can be happy, with him, my beautiful, sweet, lovely Yin Zhen, my husband, best friend and confidante.

The only person who was ever by my side all this time has been my maid, Shi Lian - And as a thank you, I want to promote her to Lady Yongqing, and all my riches go to her - I wish you only the best, and I hope, my dear Shi Lian, that you will be happy for me as well.

In the end, I was never Wu Zetian, or Hua Mulan, nor Diaochan or Yang Gufei - I was just Y/N, a pitiful Physician, a pitiful Empress, and, above all, a sad woman, trapped in a hopeless world of sorrow.

Goodbye.

Y/N, the Female Imperial Physician.

Reading that, the Emperor didn’t realise that tears were escaping from his eyes, as he rushed out of the room, making his way to the Plum Garden, only to find the woman he loved with all his being dead, covered by snow, her skin paler than ice itself, and a red stain where her head was - Wine, replicating the incident many years ago.  Next to her, lay the flute he gifted her long ago, and he realised that she was playing her sorrows until the very end. He discovered the wine bottle and poison sachet in the bag, the very bag that she used to steal the incriminatory objects from the consort long ago, and on the snow, he saw a phrase written, one so ironic, yet painful beyond belief.

“A Zhang of Redness”

In the end, she was right - It all began and ended with A Zhang of Redness.

He was, once again, Yin Zhen, the man hopelessly in love, and hopelessly crushed, as he held her in his arms and wept, the salty droplets of water falling down her face in rivers, and in that moment, he couldn’t help but have flashbacks from his youth, all of them, with her by his side.

He truly was the worst, being capable of neglecting the one person he held in higher esteem than Buddha himself, and yet, he let this happen.

How could he let this happen? Why did he do something like this? Did the title of Emperor really get to his head like that? Did he truly forget who he was all this time? Was he, maybe, the one trapped in a false world, away from any exits or escapes?

He didn’t know, and yet, one thing was sure - Y/N was dead, and there was no bringing her back.

At her funeral, he invited JiKang to play, and the Emperor could feel the musician’s own heart throbbing in sorrow, as he looked at her with empty eyes, and yet, the pity and anger he felt was obvious from the way he played.

As night came, and they all lit lanterns to float into the skies, and put candles on lotus flowers, to light up her way to a better, more beautiful world, the two men remained alone, only sadness linking them.

“What were the songs that you played?” the Emperor asked in a low voice. “Songs that I promised I would play in her honour, the last time we talked. I knew what she was going to do, and yet, knowing that she killed herself when I played for her - And more - that she, herself, played, makes my heart ache even more.  ‘Requiem for God’s Caged Bird’ and ‘The Lovely Fox Spirit and The Wavering Dragon’  were the name of the songs.” the musician replied with a certain harsh coldness that resembled a blizzard. “I see...Very fitting indeed.” he grunted in approval hearing his statement. “You are the cruelest man alive. Instead of taking care of her, you let her die. You didn’t even give her a second chance of living. You were desperate to possess everything and everyone. To have everything under your control. So much that you don’t even notice, nor care, that the most beautiful flower wilted in your very own hands. You should be ashamed of yourself, to even call yourself an Emperor. You never deserved her, that much, is clear to me.” JiKang glared at the Emperor, not caring for any kind of repercussion. “You are correct. I never deserved her. I loved her more than anything in this world, and yet, I destroyed everything for her, and now, she is no more. She shares the same fate as all the Four Beauties of China - A most tragic end, for all of them. And the worst is that she needed to die in order for me to wake up, and now, I can’t even make it up to her. Honouring her after death means nothing, if I didn’t while she was alive. It changes nothing.” the Emperor sighed deeply, looking at the stars, the ones she loved so much, and would count together from the top of the flowery hill. “That star right there - It used to be our star. Whenever we’d go to the hill together, we’d search for it. It was our guardian star. It was the brightest, and most beautiful. And now, it seems to be be even brighter...Just like that tale of the Rabbit Moon Goddess.” “...At least bother remembering her after death, if you couldn’t do it while she was alive.” the musician left the Emperor to his own thoughts. “I am sorry, my darling Y/N. I love you. Forever. Endlessly. Only you.” the Emperor muttered, staring at the star, allowing himself to mourn properly now, away from anyone’s eyes.

The Palace of Blue Lotus became her shrine, filled with flowers and beautifully written poems, and guarding it, a statue of her, and a statue of a nine tailed fox, a Huli jing, were standing there, letting offerings of flower crowns, jewelleries, jades and trinkets be placed around and all over them, to honour her kind, beautiful heart, as it should have happened while she was alive.

As promised, the Emperor promoted Shi Lian, but to the title of Lady Shuyu, just like Y/N once was, and offered her a huge allowance, almost the size of an Empress, hoping that it would make Y/N happy beyond life...Yet seeing the maid grieving, her face pink and puffy, no longer cheerful, hurt him beyond belief, as he was reminded of the sins he committed.

And so, once again, he had to pink new concubines for his unfortunate Harem, along with his new Empress, Zhen Huan, just as Y/N said...And there she was, a beautiful young woman, full of life and hope, obviously not wanting to become a slave to him, so he interrogated him, just as he did with Y/N, long ago. This time, his brother, Duke Guo, a free soul seeking his soulmate, was by his side.

The Emperor ordered for a zither to be brought forth for the woman to play, and as soon as she did, his brother joined in, accompanying her in perfect sync, and just as it happened to him long ago, their eyes were trapping each other in a beautiful enchantment of love and bashfulness.

Please, Gods, let them be what I and Y/N couldn’t be, Yin Zhen begged in his heart, watching those two shyly exchanging looks.

“I know you never wanted to serve me as a concubine. You very much resemble my wife, the late Empress Y/N. If you were to join the harem, your heart will be destroyed. That is why...If you would want to, I will allow you to marry any man you fall in love with, even if it is my own brother, Duke Guo. He always preached about wanting to find the his soulmate, and you two look at each other the same way I and Y/N would, long ago. Don’t waste this love on stupid things, like I did. Cherish it, and keep your promises to each other. You never know when life snatches away your happiness, leaving only emptiness and sorrow behind.” Yin Zhen looked at them, his heart conflicted, feeling both happiness and sadness, as the man and woman in front of him appeared to be just another version of himself and Y/N.

He couldn’t see the girl, nor his brother.

He could only see a beautiful red haired woman with green eyes, flowers in her long, cascading hair, and her gorgeous green gown, looking like a Fox Spirit, or a Lotus...And a man, gazing at her lovingly, wearing vibrant gold, his expression soft, despite the deep, dark eyes, that now held love, warmth and tenderness in them.

It wasn’t some random girl and some random boy.

It was Y/N and Yin Zhen.

And then he wept once again for their lost love.

[jeongyunhoed]

You’re traveling to another dimension It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity It is the middle ground between light and shadow, Between science and superstition It ties between the pit of man’s fears and the summit of his knowledge This is the dimension of imagination

An ATEEZ Twilight Zone!AU (masterlist here)

A/N: So, I am kind of late. Like hours late. But! To make up for it, I bring you a more wholesome chapter of TOD (Because Twilight Zone does have very wholesome episodes, just not often haha) to take away from the emotional anguish presented by the previous chapters. Happy (Belated) Birthday Seonghwa!!

XVI. Last Two Standing (Seonghwa)

High noon. 

An empty desolate town, a shell of what was once a bustling city. The abandoned buildings were either halfway torn down or had vines and weeds creeping into the concrete. The same could be said for its streets that had bricks and debris scattered all over. It was a city that remained abandoned for what seemed like years.

There was a reason for the abandonment. It was once plagued by a devastating war that reached all corners of the world, but this place was lucky in the sense that people had already fled before it was brought to ruins. Almost everyone. 

A young woman stepped out from the piles of debris in the corner, her uniform that was once a visible navy blue had gotten shabby, patches of dust at the hem of her skirt and minor rips and tears on everywhere else. Her face was weathered, showing signs of having actively fought in the front lines, her AR-15 rifle slung over her shoulder. She had arrived after having hidden out at a fort that ultimately went low on supplies. She was a commanding officer of her unit, and arguably the only one left standing in the deserted remnants of a metropolis. 

She walked down the empty street, looking around at the displays of abandoned shops and residential areas. There was hardly a working car in sight, as some had either been looted for engines or simply crushed from blocks of cement that came from blown up establishments. It was deafeningly quiet, and she knew better than to let her guard down. The war might have been over, but she knew it was impossible that she would be the only one left. She knew very well she would not be alone. 

The more she walked down the street, the more she started to feel her body ask for nourishment. She had lived off hunting and roasting animals on fire before she arrived, and maybe now, she could get a taste of what properly prepared food was like. Whatever it tasted like, that is. She could hardly remember what comfort meant, what home-cooked food tasted. War was all she knew. 

She skidded to a halt when she came across an abandoned diner. Taking her rifle off her sling and poised to shoot, she made a quick scan of the area for any sound. She still had a good three rounds of ammunition left. Once she was sure there was no soul inside, she stepped in, immediately making a beeline to the kitchens to see if there was the source of nourishment she was hoping for. 

The presence of tinned food made her sigh in relief and she immediately took down a can of tomatoes, a can of peaches, and canned chicken. She felt like she was going to feast like a queen with this much food in front of her. She looked closely at the canned chicken, checking for its expiration date, nodding to herself when the date was a little far from today. 

She was set to open the can when she heard footsteps padding towards the room she was in. It was a man, also in uniform that looked just as tattered as hers. He had jet-black hair that had already fallen over his eyes from how long it seemed to have gotten. But it didn’t distract from the fact that he was handsome. But while he wasalso wearing a uniform and had his own rifle slung over his shoulder, she knew it was a different uniform. The uniform of the enemy. The uniform of the North. 

Putting the can down, she charged at him, the two of them getting into a tussle on the floor until he got the upper hand, his strength overtaking hers as he knocked her out unconscious. He got back on his feet, noticing the cans that she had set out on the table, especially the canned chicken she was supposed to eat. He opened the tin, devouring its contents as he glanced over at the woman’s unconscious figure every now and then. 

Having had his fill of the chicken, he stepped out, looking at the city before him. He hadn’t stepped in this part of the country before and thus everything looked so foreign to him, even as he could understand everything albeit in a slightly different way. He was also a commander of his unit, and from what he was seeing, he was also the last surviving member of his unit. Before he could take another step, the newspaper at his feet caught his eye, particularly the headline. 

EVACUATE! City Left Abandoned After Invasion

He picked up the newspaper, staring at the headline. There was no one left. It was just him, and the woman he knocked out in the kitchen. He dropped the paper and went back inside seeing the woman still unconscious. He took an empty can and filled it with water from the tap, splashing some of it on her face. 

She began to stir, eyes opening until she saw him standing several feet away from her. She got up, aiming her rifle at him. If it didn’t work, she had her knife. 

“There’s no reason to fight anymore,” He spoke. “We’re the last ones left. There’s no more war, no more armies, no more weapons of mass destruction apart from what we’re carrying. The only difference now is our clothes. Nothing more than that.” 

She stared at him, not quite believing what he said. 

“You can have the rest of that food,” He gestured to the cans on the table. She saw that the canned chicken was significantly finished. “If you understand me, you will put down that rifle of yours, as I already have mine.” 

She didn’t let up, and he could only sigh, figuring that they were best left to their own respective devices. As soon as he left the room, she put her rifle down to eat but not while glancing at the door every now and then in case he returned. She kept thinking about what he said. 

As soon as she finished, she quickly washed her hands and left, looking around for a sign of the man. She stopped when she saw him inside the barbershop and she stepped inside, watching him shave with the razors that were left behind. He stopped when he saw her and tossed the bar of soap towards her, and she caught it in time. “Wash your face,” He mumbled. 

She was still watching him as she approached the sink, seeing how she also needed cleaning up, she washed her face quickly, scrubbing away the dust and smoke. It was only then that she realized how the war seemed to have changed the way she looked, how the dark shadows under her eyes had become more prominent. She wiped her face with the towel he handed her while he watched her with a kind of curiosity he hadn’t had in a while. It was probably a long while since he last stood in the same place as a woman without them running away or cowering in fear simply because he was amongst those who were fighting. 

The two of them stepped out of the shop, once again taking in their dilapidated and abandoned surroundings. It made them think about what the place must have been before the war. Busy, noisy, but more importantly, full of life. As of that moment, they were the only lives. The silence between them was becoming less and less deafening, and he figured it was because she was slowly warming up to what he said earlier. They were no longer in a war, they were no longer fighting, much less see the need to keep fighting. 

They stopped in front of the abandoned movie theater, some of the letters on the marquee having fallen off, the rest of the letters hinting at what movie was being shown before the evacuation. 

A Fine Romance: A Story of Love in War 

How timely, he thought, catching her gaze the moment he glanced at her. Even with the slight changes, their language remained the same. As they approached the entrance, they saw a pile of skeletons, the remains of the soldiers that fought either with them or against them. As if on command, the two of them suddenly aimed their rifles at each other.

The two of them were prepared to shoot, but the man put his rifle down, reminding himself that there was no longer the need to do it. If they were bent on destroying each other, they probably would’ve done it from the beginning. She would’ve been dead in that diner. He walked away, slinging his rifle again over his shoulder. She quickly followed him, observing his every move. Even after cleaning up, she noticed how handsome he was. 

She stopped in front of a dress shop, seeing a white dress on display that had long sleeves and embellishments on the hems and sleeves. It was probably a dress that would’ve been perfect for a dance, or maybe a wedding, she thought. “Beautiful,” She muttered. 

He glanced at her and then back at the white outfit. Without another word, he broke through the glass, taking the dress off from the mannequin, and handed it to her. “Wear it,” He said. “It’s yours now.” 

She slowly took the dress from him, unable to hide the astonishment on her face at the feel of the fabric. Even when it was a little dirty in some places, it was still as soft and as beautiful. She went up into what looked like an office to change, hoping that it would fit her. It had been a while since she last wore something nice. 

As she was about to take off the jacket, she saw the posters plastered on the walls, reading what was on each one. It was all messages of the war, messages empowering those who read them to enlist, to fight, to shoot the enemy. She rushed out, rifle back in her hands as she aimed it at him again, but this time, she pulled the trigger. Once, twice, only to miss. 

He stared at her incredulously. How could she still think he was dangerous? Even after giving her the dress she had her eye on? Even after having told her that there was no need to fight, that he only sought peace. He sighed, walking away before she could shoot him any more. 

She watched him walk off, seeing him drop his rifle to the ground before leaving. They were better off apart. She looked back at the dress on the table and took it with her as she left the office, thinking to go back to the barber shop that had a slightly more comfortable chair. It was already getting dark and she needed someplace to camp in for the night, at least for the night. 

~ 

Morning had come, and the man stepped out of the room he stayed in, the room that was on the second floor of what was an old clothing store. It was there that he found clothes that suited him this time, finally rid of the military garb he had been wearing for as long as he could remember. He changed into the tuxedo he saw on the mannequin, slightly fitted in some places but he made it fit. As he stepped out, climbing down the staircase to look at the view of the run-down metropolis, he saw two cans of peaches on the railing. 

He scanned the empty street, immediately catching the gaze of a familiar pair of eyes from behind the truck. It was her. He had given up trying to convince her that there was nothing left anymore. “Take your war elsewhere, there’s no war here, there’s no enemy for you to fight here,” He called out. 

Before he could turn back, he saw her emerge from behind the truck, and his expression softened when he saw that she was wearing the dress. He took the cans and climbed further down to meet her in the middle of the street. He handed her one can. “Beautiful,” He said. A small smile appeared on her lips. 

“What’s your name?” She asked, her voice soft.

“I’m Seonghwa. Park Seonghwa,” He replied. 

“Ara, Kim Ara,” She said. 

“Beautiful,” It was his turn to smile.

[nimsajlove]

Calling home

Waxer never had his chance to return to Numa, but with Ahsoka as an independent General he, at least, can call home and take a look at his big vod’ika.

Brothers-AU  Ao3

“Coming home”

*~*

"Let's pack up!", Ahsoka shouted over the noise of the camp and closed the hatch of the quarters next to her. Some men clapped sporadically, others grabbed things without wandering around and seemed to draw fresh energy in the process. The mood was much better than in the last few days, it conjured up a smile on Ahsoka's face as well. Nobody of them liked, to be stuck at a place for too long.

She was lifting a crate into the air and getting it onto one of the gunships, when someone tapped her shoulder. Fives. "What's up?", she asked and put down the box, her brother pushed the holoprojector into her hand. He smiled but was silent. Sighing, she gripped the projector tighter. Well, she hadn't expected any leaps of joy from him lately... She switched on the little device and gave the Admiral a friendly smile. "I have a request from Commander Cody, I'll put it through." A heartbeat later, the image of the clone flickered, what did Cody want from her? Was he going to claim his favor? "Hey, what can I do for you?", she grinned and Cody on the other end shrugged in amusement. Fives the same, he was still standing next to her and watched over her shoulder, it warmed her heart that he showed interest in what was happening. "I want to ask you for a little favor." "So you want to claim my guilt?", she asked teasingly, but found less humor than before. Cody's figure sagged a little, he shook his head. “No, it's not for me. For Boil.” Ahsoka looked down and rubbed her temple absently, she knew Boil. She had known Waxer too, he had fallen on Umbara and she had to admit that Boil hasn't been the same since. It was like Fives after Echo was gone. Her heart contracted a little before it skipped a beat and continued, slightly accelerating. In her memory, she hadn't done the slightest enough for her brother back then. So if she could help someone else now... 

"What do you need?" She asked softly and pulled back a little, Fives like a shadow behind her. Cody visibly relaxed and took off his helmet, looking tired. “Could you make a stop on Ryloth? I would take care of it myself, but...” He broke off and raised a hand helplessly. Ahsoka nodded, knowing the troops had their hands full. The war had picked up speed and Cody couldn't go on a little trip alone. Even if she wasn't dying to return to Ryloth. Maybe it would help her too, to see the planet rebuilt and peaceful. "Who should I look for?“, she asked. “Numa, a girl. Turquoise Twi’lek. She was connected to Waxer and Boil and I thought it would help him, to hear from her. They had promised her, to come back.” His voice fell silent and although she had never seen Cody cry or mourn, she recognized the hunched shoulders and the tilt of his head. Appo had been bowed as well after each loss. The instinct to protrect her brothers kicked now fully in. "I'll take care of it, don't worry."

*~*

The equipment was not fully unloaded when Ahsoka was already preparing a smaller ship. She waved Rex over to her, Fives was still her shadow and hadn't dared to take his eyes off her. She wasn't sure why, but she couldn't find any reason to send him away either. “Rex, I'll fly a little detour. The cruiser should take the normal route to the next system.”, she instructed as she climbed around on the ship and made a few final checks. In her time as a pilot, she really appreciated having seen everything for herself before a flight. She was already expecting questions to which she didn't necessarily had an answer. But Rex just nodded. “I know, Cody called me. May I suggest, that you take Fives with you?", he called up to her and elegantly she swung herself back on the floor, briefly patted her hands on her pants and then looked over at Fives. "If you want to. It would be lovely.", she smiled and Fives grinned back. "I would have come with you anyway, after the whole thing one of us owes it Waxer.", he explained and Ahsoka saw out of the corner of her eye, how Rex’s fingers twitched briefly. She put her hand on his soothingly, guilt was out of place here. "It's okay.", she mumbled and the Captain nodded curtly, two seconds passed until he had recovered. One thing was certain, she would never lead her men to Umbara again. Most of them were at risk of having seizures just by the name. She would probably never understand the horror.

*~*

She set out with Fives, Ryloth was reached quickly. Without the battle over the planet, it actually looked peaceful and somehow beautiful. They landed and with a sigh, Ahsoka dug out her datapad, it contained the old reports from von the battle for Ryloth. The coordinates of Kenobi's first point of action were found quickly, they were not far away and Ahsoka got up. "Well then, if we go now, we will reach the city before dark.", she smiled and Fives got up too, in silence he pulled the helmet over his head and grabbed one of the packed backpacks. She took over the other and together they left the ship.

They walked side by side in silence for a few minutes, then Ahsoka couldn't stand it any longer. She understood that Fives preferred to keep quiet. But she missed his voice so much! "You don't have to do this.", she muttered and Fives shrugged his shoulders, he smiled slightly. “I know, but I've heard a lot from the kid and I think it might help Boil. He has no one left. I don't know what I would have done without the others.", he explained and gave her a warm look, again there was brief silence. She, too, had heard a lot about Numa; Waxer had proudly worn her on his helmet. Maybe it would really help Boil. Besides, Numa deserved someone to tell her about the soldier's death. She didn't know how she would feel, if she happened to find out that one of her brothers was dead by accident.

Finding the city wasn't a challenge, but Numa was. Most of the villagers could only speak the local dialect and ignored her and Fives. Annoyed, Ahsoka gave up after two attempts to ask for directions. She should have listened to Master Kenobi closer, when he told her about foreign languages. "And what now?", she huffed and looked up, the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon. "At least we will need a place to stay.", Fives mumbled next to her and together they walked a few steps, the wide main street was still busy and full of twi’lek. She was just looking around when the hand on her arm came out of nowhere. It was a girl, almost a young woman, who had grabbed her wrist. Fives next to her tensed and took half a step towards the stranger before Ahsoka calmly raised her hand. "It's okay.", she smiled at him and the Twi’lek tugged lightly on her arm. She was babbling something, a great flood of words. And in the middle of it all, a name, Numa. "Numa?", Ahsoka asked and the girl broke off, then nodded and pointed in a direction. Finally someone who could help them. "That way?", Ahsoka asked and pointed with a palm in the same direction, the girl nodded affirmatively and went ahead. There wasn't much left for the Jedi and the clone to do but follow.

The way was not far, they stopped in a narrow alley and the girl pushed open a door before letting the other two in. It was cooler inside than on the street and a lamp gave off its light pale. The girl called out a little louder, another voice answered from the top of a staircase next to them. Then the slim figure came down to them, the turquoise Twi’lek was no longer a small child. More like a teenager, she glanced at her guests and then shook her head. A few words were exchanged between the two girls, words Ahsoka couldn't understand. "Are you Numa?", she asked and the two Twi’lek fell silent. "Yes, I am.", the older one answered and nudged the other one lightly on the shoulder, she was quickly gone up the stairs. "But who are you?", she asked carefully and pointed to a table with a couple of chairs. She and Ahsoka sat down, Fives stood behind the Togruta and simply put down the backpack. "I'm Ahsoka Tano, this is Fives.", Ahsoka introduced themself and Numa looked down thoughtfully. “So Waxer isn't coming back? And neither is Boil? Are they dead?”, she asked, her voice calm and controlled. As if she had been waiting for this day, knowing it was coming. And Ahsoka couldn't lie to her. “Waxer fell on Umbara, yes. Im sorry.“

There was a second of silence, Numas eyes where squeezed shut, when Ahsoka spoke up again. „But we're also coming because of Boil.", she explained and rummaged in her backpack next to her, smiling, she pulled out the long-distance transmitter and placed it on the table before she switched it on and entered a number. Nothing happened for a while, then a figure appeared. "Hey Cody, I've arrived.", Ahsoka announced and Cody didn't hesitate long, he seemed to be tapping onto something. "Give me a second." he said and then turned around and pulled someone into the picture.

"Nerra!" The exclamation almost knocked Boil off his feet and he swayed briefly, before Cody grabbed his elbow and held him upright. "Numa..." He smiled, Ahsoka could hear it. She looked over at Fives, he too had a small smile on his face and she got up. Satisfied, she hooked her arm under his and they went outside with the backpacks. Sighing, they sat down on the slightly dusty floor in front of the house and Ahsoka leaned back against her brother. Fives wrapped an arm around her and whenever they heard Numas laugh, they both smiled into the darkness.

[tsipasce]

Same Difference ch. 15

A/N: this thing fluffier than mf pancakes

That first night Nanami was awoken by the sound of the front door and a heavy sigh from a familiar voice. She glanced at the clock to see it was 2:30 am, a feeling a bit of empathy as she remembered all the 12-hour shifts she pulled, only to return to an empty place and heat up leftovers from the night before. He was probably doing the opposite of ~*saving lives*~ during his long shifts, but the sentiment remained. She heard him walking into the kitchen as the steps on hardwood turned to tile and he opened the pantry then subsequently the microwave. By 3:15 am she heard his shower going as she fell back asleep, wondering how he kept up with this schedule, his consistent grumpy mood suddenly making more sense.

By morning Nanami’s alarm for 5:30 am began blaring and she hurriedly shut it off, knowing they were only a room apart, but not how heavy a sleeper he was. Hoping she hadn’t awoken him, she quietly went through her morning routine and slipped into her workout gear. Since her training, she’d gotten back into running, and morning jogs were the only ones she had the time or energy for. On paper, any kind of jogging sounded tedious, but she found a certain peace in being able to clear her mind and get the blood flowing before beginning her day. Grabbing her headphones and phone, she quietly opened the door to her room before gently closing it. She crept down the hallway, looking back to his room to find the door still closed. He must be asleep still. Better make this quick. She thought before continuing down the hall. The sun was streaming in, but the kitchen and living room lights were off, further strengthening her confidence. As she rounded the corner, she sa— “Aggh!” There he was with his back turned, leaning on the counter. He had on a baseball cap, dust mask, sweatshirt and gym shorts with compression tight underneath, all black.

Overhaul calmly turned his head at the sudden noise as though he’d been expecting it, “You didn’t really think I wouldn’t notice you leaving, did you?”

“Wha—no, way. I was just gonna…” his bored expression let her know that whatever half-baked explanation she planned on selling, he wasn’t buying it, “Ok, you caught me.”

“You cannot be outside alone. What part of ‘there’s a price on your head’ are you not getting?”

A defeated look crossed her features as she realized he was right. For at least a couple weeks, she needed to lay low. It wasn’t an unreasonable request, and she knew it. “You’re right…” She began as she turned to go back to her room.

“Where are you going?”

The question caught her off-guard as she turned, confused, “To change?”

“I had plans to go on a run myself. You can join, if you behave.” He said plainly, as he headed to the doorway to put on his shoes. In any other circumstance she’d complain about being treated like a child, but considering she’d literally just gotten caught trying to sneak out like a teenager, she thought it best to spare him the retort and herself the hypocrisy.

“…Fine. Lead the way~”

“And leave the earphones, you need to be alert.”

“Yes, sir.” She responded simply.

He stopped, quickly turning to her, a dark look in his eyes. Seemingly coming back from wherever his mind went in that moment, he cleared his throat before turning back and adjusting his hat to cover more of his now-flushed face. “Let’s… let’s just go.”

Note to self: The magic words are not ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, but ‘yes sir’. She gulped.

They walked out of the main door and past the courtyard to the street. Looking at his watch he set a timer and they began their jog. The sun was still rising, and the air was fresh as it filled her lungs. The neighborhood was quiet, and the streets were empty, the only sounds being the morning birds and her own breath as they began their third mile.

 Hold up, where is—she thought as she looked over to see him still there. She knew he had to be in better shape than her given the fact that he fought so frequently, but he was running as though they had just begun, not a shred of fatigue on what was visible of his face. It was slightly off-putting seeing someone she knew had a whopping 2 hours of sleep run a couple miles without breaking a sweat. She on the other hand was beginning to tire. Slowing down she breathed heavily as he raised a brow at her questioningly.

“You’re…” She breathed, her hands above her head as she continued, “you’re like an electric car or something… How?” She panted, trying to cool down.

“None of that made sense.” He deadpanned, still jogging in place.

“Ugh, I’m trying to say, how are you not tired yet? I haven’t heard a peep out of you this whole time.”

“Practice and overhaul. Get through 5 miles without being this winded and I’ll consider teaching you.”

“Nothing is ever easy with you, is it?”

“Says the woman who makes a game out of defying me.”

Gasping, she dramatically put her hand across her chest, “Just because it’s true, doesn’t mean you have to say it! Besides, you invite confrontation.”

“I what?” He asked incredulously.

Just as they were about to continue bickering, a voice cut them off. “It’s a bit early to be carrying on like this, isn’t it?”

Seeing the old man from the day before, Nanami immediately felt embarrassed, having shown the stranger a less-than-flattering side of herself twice in such a short span of time. “We’re so sorry for the noise, that was my fault.” She bowed trying to apologize. Just as she was about to check for Overhaul’s reaction, she saw him doing the same.

“My apologies. We won’t be a bother again.” There wasn’t a trace of sarcasm or irritation in his voice and it sounded almost foreign to her.

Well, he does have manners, so I guess it’s not that surprising… she reasoned to herself.

“That’s quite alright, for someone my age, it’s nice hearing you young folk being so spirited.” He looked between them before continuing, “How would you two like to have a morning cup of tea with me?”

Before Nanami could find a way to wiggle out of it, Overhaul responded, “Of course, we’d be delighted.”

They stood back up, the older man already turning to go inside. Nanami turned to him mouth “what the hell are you doing?” as she didn’t want to get the man involved, not knowing how misplaced her concern was. He simply sighed, seemingly resigned to this tea break as he motioned for her to go inside. She could tell he knew something she didn’t, but reluctantly went ahead as he followed close behind through the front gates of the house.

The courtyard was very similar to that of the front house used to enter the base, except it felt homier upon entering. It was quiet and serene, as the melodic clank of the deer scare echoed and a stream of water ran into a small pond, the morning birds sparing an odd note or chirp in the background. Now cooling down from their run, she could feel the fall air crisp in her lungs once again as she took a moment to appreciate the scene.  The wrap-around porch had cushions and a tea set laid out as though he was expecting guests. Nanami was suspicious of the coincidence but couldn’t bring herself to feel threatened with her partner being so calm. At the end of the day, she was confident she and Overhaul could handle an ambush between them, but this didn’t feel like an attack, at least not for her.

“Please, have a seat.” The man smiled warmly as they obliged. Nanami was still unsettled at seeing her lab partner so placid and cooperative with another person. Must be trying to keep up a cover or something… I’ll have to be a barrier to make sure Mr.NoseyNeighbor doesn’t dig too deep and get himself in trouble with bird brain over here. This sweet old man has no idea what he’s gotten into…She thought to herself. The man poured them their cups and she clasped it with both hands, savoring the warmth as she sipped. “So, do you spend this much time with all of your patients or just the ones that are ‘particularly needy’?”

Nanami almost choked, registering the question and possible insinuation. Ok, what the fuck. Not-so sweet, after all... She used the cup as a shield, drinking as she regained her composure to answer, “I’m not sure what you mean, but I take care of all my patients equally based on what their condition demands.”

“Ah, I see. I wish I had a doctor as involved as you. Tell me, what hospital did you say you worked for again, Dr. Watanabe?” He asked innocently sipping his tea, but maintained eye contact.

“I didn’t. It’s funny, I also didn’t mention my name either. People in this neighborhood usually keep to themselves from what I’ve seen.”

“And I assume you’ve seen a lot.”

“No more than someone of your tenure has, I’m sure.” She smiled easily, determined not to lose this quasi-confrontation. She could feel her grip on the teacup tightening until Overhaul cut in.

“I think that’s enough, Pops.” He said, a tinge of exasperation in his voice.

Her head snapped to look over at Overhaul, wide-eyed. “POPS”??

The older man’s stern face and calculating smile were replaced with one of genuine amusement and a hardy chuckle. “Oh, I just wanted to test her mettle a bit. I’ve heard so much about her, but we’ve never had the chance to formally meet.”

“POPS” LIKE A DAD? LIKE HIS WHOLE ASS FATHER??

“Well, here we are. Boss, Dr. Nanami Watanabe. Dr. Watanabe, Boss.” He motioned between them. Her heart still finding time to skip a beat at the sound of him saying her given name for the first time.

Wait, Boss too? I’m… it’s too early for this. She lamented inwardly at her growing confusion before gathering her face, trying to seem unsurprised and unbothered by the introduction, though she was still hesitant. Is this another manipulation tactic?

“It’s alright, please relax, doctor.” He assured, seeing the skepticism on her face, ”I’m fully aware of your involvement in our organization. Though I do appreciate your caution. It puts me at ease knowing your prudence when discussing the Shie Hassakai extends even to me.” He chuckled.

“Oh, my apologies. It’s a pleasure to meet you sir,” she replied, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she realized there wasn’t a crisis to be averted, at least not the one she thought.

“No need to apologize, I’m just grateful to have you over. Chisaki speaks so highly of you, it’s nice to be able to put an in-person face to the name.” At this she cautioned a glance only to see him very preoccupied with watching the deer scare. “Chisaki” huh…

“Oh, does he now? He’s usually so quiet when we’re working together.”

“Except for the occasional smart remark, I’m sure.”

She tried to stifle a giggle, “You really are his father then. If it’s not that, there’s certainly a ‘can’t you be serious for one second?’ thrown in there if I even attempt a joke myself.” She said in her best Overhaul impersonation voice.

The Boss let out a hardy laugh, “Well, we’re not related by blood,” at this a look of surprise crossed her face. “But that does indeed sound like my son.”

Realizing her expression had been misread, she clarified, “Oh no, I didn’t— what I mean to say is that my parents adopted me too, so I understand what you mean.” She smiled sincerely, though there was a fragment of sadness in her features Overhaul noted as he glanced over at her when she wasn’t looking. Wanting desperately to change the subject, she looked around the courtyard, “Anyway, you have a lovely home. I’m impressed your hydrangeas are so lush during this time of year, I’m having a real hard time with mine.”

He perked up, more than happy to explain the ins-and-outs of his gardening techniques. He rose to show her around, the both of them crouching and inspecting the plants in the courtyard as pops gave her the life story and history of each plant. It was odd to think that she was having a casual conversation with The Boss himself, but figured it was best to play it cool and keep things light and genuine. She made sure to maintain a healthy level of respect while addressing him, but the interaction flowed easily. For a moment she was able to forget her situation and just enjoy a morning tea while listening intently as he spoke about all matters horticultural.

Still on the porch, observing the pair, there was a warmth creeping into Chisaki’s chest. Bloodshed, murder, brutality—those were familiar, but this… was different. Not in the mood for self-reflection, he pulled his mask down and sipped the tea, enjoying the view without questioning it. Her hands gently grazed the petals, her gaze soft as the rising sun illuminated her features, a warm smile across her face. He cleared his throat, careful not to articulate the thoughts that crossed his mind. Careful not to acknowledge just how nice it would be to become used to this visage. He made a mental note to create a garden of his own to help facilitate this new wish, but for now, there was work to be done. Like clockwork, his phone rang, stirring him from his thoughts and he knew it was time to go.

After a brief call, he pocketed the device, standing up and walking over to them. Pops noticed and took the cue, “Well, it looks like duty calls. It was lovely to finally meet you, Dr. Watanabe.”

“The feeling is definitely mutual. Thank you for the tea and gardening tips, I’ll be sure to update you on the progress of my green thumb, whenever it shows up.” She gave a small laugh as she rubbed the back of her neck, a bit embarrassed at telling him how many plants had gone to die at her place.

“I look forward to it, and to seeing more of you around here. I know others feel the same.” He glanced over to Overhaul who averted his gaze like a reticent child at the remark.

They gave courteous bows before leaving, heading back in the direction of his house. There was a marked silence between them as they jogged this time. She had a million questions but couldn’t bring herself to ask even one as they arrived and entered the house. Lost in thought, she continued walking until she almost bumped into him as he stopped in the hallway. Looking over his shoulder, he addressed her “You know, there’s no turning back now.”

“I think we crossed that bridge a while ago,” she tittered before looking up to see his gaze soft and almost anxious to hear her response.  “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” She assured, referring only partly to her commitment to keep a low profile until the bounty could be resolved. If she was being completely honest with herself, there was an insinuation she hoped he wouldn’t miss; that he wouldn’t reject. Both exhaling a long-held breath, he nodded, heading down the hallway to his room, a faint smile forming behind his mask.

[simwoman2002]

Silent Revelations

Summary: “I wasn’t able to save her this time, and now I will bear that guilt and sorrow for the rest of my life. A jolt of minor shock runs through me when I feel a tear run down my cheek. I cried when she was killed, but I believed that I had shed all of the tears I had then. I was quite obviously wrong.” Kassandra and Phoibe family feels and angst. Also, SPOILERS!!!

  I ride through the hills, Phobos carrying me with light feet as we make our way up the road toward a landmark that I have spotted upon the top of the mountain. At a distance, it appears to be a temple of Zeus.

  I feel that this is the best place for me to go for the purpose I intend to fulfill. I do not intend to worship for I am long past the point of any kind of spiritual atonement. It is not a self-pitying statement, but rather an establishment of pure truth.

  I see a shadow passing alongside me, cold and unforgiving in its dark movement. I cannot discern its exact shape, but I know that it is nothing alive that is following me.

  It is something deeper and more troubling. Almost like a ghost of the past coming to haunt me in some way or another. I welcome it with grimness and stoicism. I know I cannot alter its path and determination to seek me out, because it is rather a shadow of my mind. It has come to bother me and me alone.

  The top of the mountain is growing ever nearer. I am in no great rush, but I maintain a steady pace simply because I am so unaccustomed to any sort of peacefulness. It is misthios instinct to keep moving forward.

  The sky is starry tonight, but the moon is nonexistent. However, I can make out the vague shape of it in the sky above me. It is fitting. A life has waned recently, and it disappeared much too soon from the earth.

  Phobos slows to a walk in the wake of the temple, and I pull on the reins gently, bringing him to a stop. I dismount carefully and stroke his neck thoughtfully, my mind not truly focusing upon my actions. He nudges me gently with his velvety nose, snorting quietly. He seems to almost sense my feelings.

  It makes sense that I get along with animals better than people. They are so much more trustworthy and loyal than the human race. And they are not so easily disappointed or angered.

  With one final pat, I turn to face the temple and I begin to climb up the side, hauling myself up the architecture. My movements feel a bit more sluggish and laborious tonight. Perhaps it’s because of my solemn mood.

  I pull myself upon the roof, habitually steadying myself. But it isn’t that steep of an incline. There is a small elevated bit of the building that appears to be accessed from the inside of the temple. It appears to be some sort of topside place of worship. It must be for the rich and powerful of the area, because it is only big enough for about three people to comfortably fit and it has various expensive offerings.

  It is odd, considering the fact that everyone is supposedly equal in the sight of the priests. Since it is not able to be seen from the front of the temple and is barely visible around the sides, its presence is likely not known by the poorer members of the community.

  It will do for my purpose. I will only be here for one night. Perhaps not even that long.

  The platform is not very high up, but nevertheless, it is tall enough that I cannot simply step upon it. So, I leap and grab the edge, hoisting upward so that I land upon my feet with relative ease.

  Once I am up, I stop for a moment to enjoy the view. There are dots of fiery light upon the ground sprawling below the hillside, but the aspect of the view I am most particularly drawn to is the stars. They twinkle and glow and it almost seems as if I could grow lost in the vastness.

  I lower myself to the floor and feel the sweet feeling of relaxation upon finally relieving my feet of their sometimes-overwhelming duties.

  Silently I sit tonight, contemplating all that has happened in my journey. My father is not truly my father, my brother is still alive and is now the primary weapon of a group that is bent upon the destruction of Athens and Sparta, and I am only a ship’s ride away from seeing my mother for the first time since I was a child. And to think that not so long ago, I led such a simplistic life where all of my family was deceased or, at the very least in some instances, dead to me.

  It is true that I have once attempted the journey to my mother’s home from what is left of Athens. But I stopped at a nearby island with an excuse upon my tongue concerning additional drachmae after Xenia’s lofty fee.

  Perhaps what is closer to the truth is my desire to just quietly exist alone. In the midst of constantly having to defend myself from prostitutes, cult members, and Spartan as well as Athenian soldiers alike, I am exhausted, and I do not want any sort of interruptions.

  I do not desire companionship and I will likely never want a lover. But I am lonely all the same. What I most sincerely seek and desire is a family— a taste of the sweet nectar that was my life before. I have the opportunity to gain part of my old family back. All it takes is the courage to set foot upon the Adrestia and head out for Naxos.

  But there is still that one piece that remains that can never be placed back in the puzzle. A piece that is still freshly upon my mind and honestly is the reason I am here tonight.

  Sweet, poor Phoibe. This raw pain is foreign to me. It is so similar to when I believed I lost Alexios, but it is different as well.

  I have done so many things of moral questionability, but I must wonder why a child had to atone for my wrongdoings. Why did it have to be Phoibe of all people?

  We used to do so many things together. She always was like a gnat. A small, annoying gnat that one couldn’t help but pay attention to. But I loved her dearly. I was always fiercely protective of her. I trusted her to stay out of trouble well enough, but I guess I always thought that if she did get into trouble, I would be able to save her every time.

  I wasn’t able to save her this time, and now I will bear that guilt and sorrow for the rest of my life.

  A jolt of minor shock runs through me when I feel a tear run down my cheek. I have never cried. Never as an adult or a teenager. I cried when she was killed, but I believed that I had shed all of the tears I had then.

  I was quite obviously wrong.

   ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

      “Kassandra, Kassandra!” The woman in question looked up from her task of carving, raising an eyebrow carefully at the little one that was a whole five-years-old running toward her. The child came to a stop, breathing heavily, but smiling all the same.

  “Yes… Phoibe?” Kassandra hesitantly asked.

  “You won’t believe what I just found out today!”

  “There is very little you can tell me that I will be surprised about, but go on,” she gestured with her hand for the girl to continue, finding the child’s enthusiasm quite endearing despite the fact that she would never admit it aloud.

  “Okay, sit down, because this is going to be seriously crazy,” Phoibe warned with more seriousness than was to ever be expected for a girl of her age. Kassandra chewed the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Phoibe was cute, and at the same time, a little concerning to her.

  “I am fairly certain that I’m already sitting down, child. Now tell me what you need to tell me.”

  “My caretaker is really a man.” Kassandra nearly choked upon that news. She had known Helen for a long time and had done a great deal of jobs for her. All that time, Kassandra had never gotten the inclination that Helen was anything but a woman. A careless, self-absorbed woman, but a female nevertheless.

  “And how did you come to that conclusion?” Kassandra questioned, genuinely curious as to what Helen had done to make the child think that she was a male.

  “She has no breasts and her voice is deeper than any woman’s I’ve ever heard.” Kassandra’s eyes widened a bit as she listened.

  “You are aware that she’s married to a man, yes?” Kassandra couldn’t help but interject.

  “What if it’s all a disguise to hide her true self?” Phoibe proposed, her little face scrunched in thought. Kassandra chuckled and shook her head, her fond exasperation evident in the sigh that quickly followed.

  “Phoibe, you need to think a little less about these things and focus on something else. Ela, have you stolen anything as of late, you thief?” Kassandra asked, trying to distract the young girl from her current embarrassing and slightly too nosy subject.

  Phoibe immediately lost her previous train of thought and her face lit up in a sly smile that was quite honestly terrifying when upon the countenance of a child as small as herself.

  “Yep!” Kassandra internally let out a breath of relief.

  “Tell me, then. What do you have?”

  And the girl proceeded to explain the various things she had managed to steal throughout the course of the week during the time that Kassandra had not seen her.

    ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

       “I wish I had an eagle,” Phoibe said for what Kassandra was completely certain was the five thousandth time in her short lifespan.

  “I am well aware,” Kassandra patiently replied, flashing her golden-brown eyes in Phoibe’s direction. However, Phoibe was much too joyful to pay any attention to Kassandra’s quiet and slight annoyance.

  “Oh, if I had one, we would do wonderful things! We would go everywhere together. I would feed him and give him a nice nest and pet him and---”

  “You are aware that birds are not like dogs, right?” Kassandra interrupted, quirking an eyebrow in questioning.

  “Well, of course! But you still have to take good care of one!” Phoibe replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world before continuing in her monologue about her hypothetical bird caretaking techniques.

  Choosing to tune out Phoibe’s chatter, Kassandra focused upon the task at hand. She sliced the fresh meat held in her hands, looking it over to ensure that there were no bones in it that could choke Ikaros. After it had passed her inspection, she looked to the skies, giving a sharp whistle. Phoibe stopped in her excited babbling as she froze, following Kassandra’s gaze.

  To Phoibe’s pure enthrallment, Ikaros flew in, landing on Kassandra’s arm.

  “Hello, old friend,” Kassandra greeted, gently stroking underneath his chin. Ikaros leaned into the touch but eyed the meat nearby on the table greedily. Kassandra allowed a small smile to grace her lips. She reached over to the meat, but just before she took it, she could not help but acknowledge the little girl standing near her that could not take her eyes off of the bird.

  Kassandra looked between the meat and Phoibe, considering something that she had not quite thought of before. She wondered if it would be a good idea, but if it brought the child joy, then there surely could not be any harm in it…

  “Do you want to feed him?” Kassandra hesitantly asked.

  “Can I?” Phoibe questioned, her eyes sparkling, and Kassandra felt the expression squeeze her heart a little. She huffed slightly, trying to rid herself of the odd feelings.

  “Sure. But the true question is may you?” Kassandra corrected, deciding that she would tease the girl slightly.

  “Kassandra,” Phoibe groaned impatiently but with the definitive sound of pure delight still in her voice, and the mercenary sighed deeply.

  “You may,” Kassandra finally conceded with a laugh in her voice and a slight twinkle in her eye that she knew would betray her lightheartedness. However, despite her average seriousness, she could not help her amusement in regard to the girl.

  Phoibe took the meat in her hands gently and Kassandra moved her arm slight so that the bird was a bit closer to the small girl. Kassandra took Phoibe’s hand gently and guided it toward his mouth.

  “Be careful when you reach out. Hold the meat in your hand and allow most of it to stick out from your fingers so he doesn’t confuse your fingers with fresh meat,” Kassandra explained before carefully letting go of Phoibe’s hand.

  Phoibe carefully proffered it to the bird, and Ikaros took it from her easily and without a hitch. As soon as he had Phoibe grinned excitedly, almost unable to remain still as she watched him. Kassandra smiled slightly, trying to keep from allowing too much of a grin to find its way onto her lips.

  “Woah!!! Did you see that?! Did you see it, Kassandra?!” Phoibe excitedly asked, and Kassandra chuckled lightly.

  “Yes. Well done,” Kassandra nodded in approval, and Phoibe’s chest puffed proudly with the praise. Kassandra gave the bird the remainder of his lunch, and Phoibe watched in awe as he flew away.

  “Wow… I wish I---”

  “I know, Phoibe, I know.”

    ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

       “Hey, Kassandra! Where are you?” Kassandra leaned over to peer down from her perch atop her house where she had been looking at the stars and carving.

  “Is there something you need?” She barely managed to withhold the smile that threatened to break across her face upon the sight of the eight-year-old girl staring up at her with such amazement in her eyes.

  “Wow! How did you get up there?”

  “I climbed?” Kassandra replied coolly, raising an eyebrow at the excitement on the child’s face.

  “Could you teach me?” Phoibe asked eagerly, bouncing in place with enthusiasm. Kassandra quickly descended the walls of her home, landing on the ground with a barely audible thud.

  She found it cute that the child was so enamored by the simple ascension of a structure. It truly wasn’t that extraordinary, but she guessed that Phoibe hadn’t ever really seen Kassandra climb her house before. Phoibe always came midday and never at night or early morning when Kassandra was most often on the roof.

  “I will help you climb, but may I first ask what you are doing here so late?” the mercenary questioned, stepping closer to Phoibe as she silently assessed her.

  Phoibe just shrugged and grinned wickedly as she looked up at the tall woman.

  “I will answer that after we’re on top of your house,” Phoibe told her as she went around Kassandra so that she could examine the wall. Kassandra groaned. Of course she would use a con. Kassandra supposed it was probably all part of the charm that came with her.

  Kassandra turned to face the wall as well, approaching it soundlessly. She resisted the urge to chuckle as the child started putting her feet on certain stones jutting out of the wall only to nearly fall on her behind after stepping up.

  “First of all, you need to get a firm hold on the wall with your hands,” Kassandra demonstrated carefully, gripping the rocks tightly with her calloused hands. She subtly noted Phoibe’s wince as her softer, more easily penetrated digits took hold of the wall.

  “Good,” Kassandra praised, one of her few and far between moments of expressing her satisfaction with what the girl did. “And now, pull up and right yourself with your feet,” Kassandra instructed, effortlessly doing it herself. Phoibe awkwardly followed her lead and Kasandra silently resolved to keep a close eye on the child as they climbed so that the little one wouldn’t fall.

  “From there, you simply continue to find places to grab with your hands and secure positions for your shoes,” Kassandra instructed, and Phoibe nodded carefully, furrowing her brow in pure concentration.

  They ascended slowly, and Kassandra resisted her initial urge to quickly scale the side of the house. It was such a familiar journey that her instinct dictated a certain amount of speed.

  Kassandra’s hand finally met the edge of the rock lining the top of the roof and she paused for a moment, hanging there as she watched the girl below her. She felt a sense of pride rise in her chest as the girl was successfully making her way up the wall.

  That was quickly replaced by intense fear as the girl faltered in her ascent. Her hands slipped from the rock, and she started to fall backwards.

  Kassandra reached down in a lunge, swiftly wrapping her hand around Phoibe’s much smaller wrist. Phoibe gasped as she looked at her rescuer. She then broke out into a huge grin that was somewhat sheepish.

  Kassandra rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the small quirk at the corners of her lips.

  “Ela, up you go,” Kassandra spoke, heaving upward mightily and allowing the girl to grab the edge of the rock. Phoibe held on tightly and she slowly tried to pull herself up.

  Kassandra easily climbed the rest of the way and then she offered her hand to the small girl. Phoibe gladly took it, and Kassandra picked her up high, placing her on the roof. Kassandra then sat down so that she could see the starry sky, picking up her recently left behind carving of an eagle.

  Phoibe then sat down next to Kassandra, looking up with a heavy sigh of something that was surely a mix of relief and exhaustion. Kassandra raised an eyebrow but remained silent as she waited for the girl to speak, knowing that something must be perturbing the girl for her to keep it from the mercenary in such a manner.

  “Kassandra, have you ever wondered about your parents? Well, your mother, I mean,” Phoibe suddenly questioned, and Kassandra knew that the girl had made the assumption that Markos was her father. The older girl simply blinked, somewhat taken aback by the inquiry but ultimately somewhat willing to address the issue in her usual blunt manner.

  It was true. Kassandra didn’t like to speak about her parents. However, she was not one to hold back the truth. Especially to Phoibe when it was matters that did not involve serious issues too old for young ears to overhear.

  “I… My mater is gone,” Kassandra answered. And her father might as well be gone. However, she did not voice that particularly resentful thought aloud. Truthfully, she didn’t know what had come of any of her family except for the poor baby boy that she had so terribly failed.

  “I… Well, I had a dream tonight,” Phoibe finally told Kassandra, and she looked at her carefully, her brow furrowed in one of those very occasional open expressions of concern for the little one. Kassandra knew it wouldn’t take long for the girl to break, but it was still odd that she had so soon.

  “It was about my parents,” Phoibe continued. “We were all happy together, and… Well, it was so wonderful. We all lived in Athens, and my pater was a great playwright, and my mater was a magnificent seamstress,” Phoibe described, a large smile on her face as she described it all. However, that happiness quickly dissipated as she lowered her gaze sadly. Kassandra slightly furrowed her brow, looking down at the girl and tilting her head just barely.

  “And that is when I woke up,” Phoibe finished sadly. Kassandra sighed lightly, looking up at the stars. The young woman quite honestly was not sure what to say in comforting. She never was too good with words. She was always a woman of action.

  “Kassandra?”

  “Hmm?” Kassandra made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a hum in reply.

  “I know that Markos raised you, but… what about your mother?” Phoibe questioned.

  “Do you ever… Do you ever dream of her?” Phoibe continued, and Kassandra paused, fighting her initial urge to keep her silence as all of the many nightmares surrounding that fateful night flooded her mind. However, she forcefully shook herself from those thoughts, knowing that to keep quiet for too long would raise suspicion. Besides, the child needed comfort.

  “Yes, I do,” Kassandra replied somewhat guardedly, but she knew she needed to find a better manner in which to make Phoibe feel less sad.

  “Would you tell me about one?” Phoibe questioned so innocently in a manner that was so opposite of her usual conniving self. It was in these rare moments that Kassandra truly saw her as the small child she was. Kassandra took a deep breath, trying to think of one of the more pleasant dreams that she had. Perhaps one with her mother. Unfortunately, none came to mind. So, therefore, she took a memory that she had of her mother, deciding that it would be the best option that she had.

  “Well,” Kassandra started slowly, recalling a particularly meaningful and happy one that she had. She could feel Phoibe’s gaze glued to the side of her face as she spoke.

  “We were out in the middle of a forest. A gorgeous forest alight with the rays of the midday sun,” Kassandra began, calling the memory more fully back to her.

  “Everything was lit up in a golden haze,” Kassandra described, moving her hand in a sweeping motion before her to demonstrate the entire effect.

  “I was out hunting, and I was creeping up behind a boar. I hesitated too long before making my kill,” the young woman spoke slowly, telling her story with the proper reverence that such a sweet memory deserved.

  “But before I could make my move, a broken spear came flying toward the boar, landing just close enough to it so that it ran away,” Kassandra explained carefully.

  “Who threw the spear? Or did your dream end?” Phoibe questioned with a large yawn, and Kassandra smiled slightly, recalling the memory.

  “No, it did not end. It was my mater,” Kassandra told her with some mirth in her voice.

  “And was the broken spear the one that you carry?” Phoibe curiously asked, her voice sleepy. Kassandra hesitated, deciding that it would be best to simply keep this from the young girl.

  “Probably similar to it,” Kassandra finally settled on explaining it in that manner. It was the best option that she had, and she most certainly did not want to directly lie to the child.

  “And when she came out from behind a nearby tree, showing herself to me, she said that hesitation only hastens—”

  “The grave?” Phoibe guessed, and Kassandra raised an eyebrow, looking at the little girl curiously.

  “Yes. How did you know that?” Kassandra asked with a bit of a smile curving the corners of her lips.

  “You have told me that many times. This dream must have really impacted your life,” Phoibe jokingly spoke, yawning widely again and sounding very tired indeed, and Kassandra shook her head.

  “Something like that. But she then complimented me on my form and resolve before commenting on my hesitation,” Kassandra recounted, and it was then that she realized that she would need to revise the end of this tale. If she were to uncover the fact that at that moment was when her mother gave her the spear of Leonidas, it would give away the fact that Kassandra was indeed not retelling a dream but rather a memory.

  “And then we decided to hunt together, chasing after the boar with both of our broken spears. And then I woke up,” Kassandra finished her story, feeling a little strange since she had to conjure a random story in her mind. She was, after all, not a poet.

  “Sounds like a wonderful dream,” Phoibe pointed out, and Kassandra nodded solemnly.

  “I wish I could have seen your mater,” Phoibe admitted, letting her head fall against Kassandra’s shoulder. Kassandra stiffened slightly, immediately looking down at the girl. Phoibe was quite obviously very tired and had decided that Kassandra was a great resting place.

  Kassandra was completely at a loss as to how to handle the sudden contact. Kassandra had become accustomed to the fact that any physical contact was either in the form of unwanted advances or in the form of some sort of violence.

  But this… This was actually nice. Kassandra was not too sure how to react, but the weight of Phoibe’s head against the muscle of her shoulder was actually quite comforting, and she found it to be rather endearing.

  Kassandra swallowed lightly, afraid to move in case the girl would awaken, and she just settled for looking at the stars above them. She loosened herself and allowed herself to simply enjoy the warm touch.

  And when she finally laid down with Phoibe resting against her, it was the first night in quite a long time that she had actually had a restful sleep.

     ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

      I sniff hard, trying to hold back the stream of tears and the mess resulting. I cannot allow myself to grieve outwardly over this any longer.

  The time for tears has passed. She is gone. The poor girl is gone, and there is a blackened hole within my heart that has been left behind in her wake. It is another broken shard of me that I shall never be able to regain.

  I swallow, closing my eyes before looking to the sky.

  “Aniazo. I shall forever, sweet child.”

  And with that small admission, I climb down from the temple and depart.

[talesofealdancynedom]

Sirulius Healpenbroc, in fairy robes. After being mentioned in 5+ stories, you actually get an illustration of the notable storm breaker warlock!

Tale 19: Meriam Craweleoth: Mage Queen of The Grand West (chapter 7.2 - Yet To Pass 7/10) part 4. Stories of Old

Maps

Harsh Language

After three days, and three nights, a wall of abruptly tall mountains became visible. Meriam glowed with joy; she had almost forgotten happiness.

“Boys! Behold the Wall of Fire! The mountain range at the eastern end of the central desert. We are in Sinonia!” Meriam yelled back to her men. They all gasped with relief. Following their Queen was often the worst moments of their lives; until they reached their destination or went home to tell their children stories. Meriam was fond of her five soldiers. She paid them well for their company and service. Meriam, as a mage in fabric body armor and wielding grand spells, technically she didn’t need them with her. It wasn’t even to make her husband feel better anymore; Meriam genuinely cared for, and liked the comradery of her knights.

“My Queen! Why are we turning due south?” one of Meriam’s men yelled. That was a good question. Meriam looked around frantically, as did Asada.

“Don’t look me! They’re the guides!” Asada said, gesturing to the happy pair upon their proud camels, full of loot, and veering down a slope to their right.

“I once went into a magic forest so bright; I swore I had drunken an odd potion. I was greeted by a bard in a halved mountain cabin, surrounded by precise patches of odd vibrant fruits. This man spoke without tone, with a pained smile; he wed two royal fairies. Their companion lived in their cellar, and she was an asocial heartman, who baked wonderful rum shortbread. They fed me something with eggs and cheese, and then answered none of my questions, and left me to fend for myself in the lucid thicket. That is why I do not like poetry.” Meriam said, following the guides south. The Anglian men groaned and cried; They were so close to freedom from the wretched oblivion of sand. And now they were moving away from it. Worse yet, their queen may have gone mad; everyone was so confused by Meriam’s tale, that they offered her water and rest. She refused.

“The world has led me many places, and in hindsight, they have all been wonderful.” Meriam said with whimsy. Her companions sighed and followed.

           By nightfall, the men were dehydrated. They had been crying for their lost chance of escape; which was within grasp, then suddenly taken from them. Meriam assured Asada her men were not weak, but human. Asada pointed to the rice fields and bamboo that was now at the roadside. It was all so, sudden. The men began to cry again. The smell of day-old raw fish and seaweed wafted from the bay, and hit them like freshly chopped onions. For they yearned for a cool dip in the sea, while being devoured by a bloom of jellyfish after such a journey.

“Oi, Da Lan se!” The merchants chimed. “we recommend noodle. Can’t find any place else!” The merchants said. They could speak Anglian: the whole time. It is likely they wanted to mess with the foreigners. They parted ways from their guides, and went towards the sea. Then Meriam, Asada and the five knights noticed the houses…

           The valley sat deep, like it had been slowly eroded over time, and was laden with salty silt atop the earth. The bamboo and growth, was young, and the paths were wooden walk ways suspended on thick stone pilers above the mud. The houses had docks off their balconies, as they were built on stilts. All the livestock sat in aloft cages, as fishers used tall poles to take trout from the tide. The people looked miserable, and wore mix matched fabrics, that hung with long sleeves and skirts. Their black hair was held up with pins and clasps, to keep it out of their brown, amber and hazel eyes. Their faces looked unfamiliar to the weary Anglian travels. And up the mountain, as it began to darken, they saw a large pale blue castle-pagoda-cathedral sitting upon a seaside hill. There was a trail of audible bells and lights of a camp not far from it.

“I can’t handle this. This place is awful. Let’s eat some steamed fish, bathe and camp. I’m going to die alone and childless, leaving my precious home to the cheats of my homeland.” Asada teared. Meriam patted her comfortingly on the shoulder. Asada was correct.

           At dawn, they found themselves surrounded by men in dark platted armour, and vibrant sashes and weapons. The royal guard of Sinonia, was to take these foreigners to their emperor. Who it turned out, was visiting this very village, to stop the immense amount of hate-mail he received daily. It made him wish the courts didn’t take literacy and penmanship so seriously. It made him wish he couldn’t read; He had begun to dream about reading these letters. So, he was refreshed when a party of foreigners was brought to his knees, and forced to bow. He wore many silken robes of violet, red and gold, and he also wore white paint on his face and an absurd hat.

“Exotic faces from far off lands? State your business! I only allow men of Francia and Indonia in my Kingdom. You look like children of the West” The emperor said.

“Yes. I’m Mage Queen Meriam of Anglia. I come to grant a grand favour for you, to make peace and friendship between our kingdoms.” Meriam said.

“That explains why you are so pretty. Your nation must be chaos, if they send women on such important journeys; you should be pregnant in a palace, garbed in silk. Unless you, their mage, are the grand gift?” He laughed. “Sinonia has two mages already; twins. One of which is the source of aggressive messages form this area. If I get another scroll depicting tentacles, or complaining of typhoons and poverty, I will kill him. Which is to say I am already here to kill the bastard.”

“Fuck me; there is a mage with jewels I can borrow here! You can’t kill him! I need his love to save a forest!” Asada yelled. Meriam cursed under her breath. Asada was vile, and this was not the time for harsh impolite language. Not that she didn’t want to literally bite the emperor for his own poor taste. She would have to push through some newfound opinions, to once again desire good terms with this land. Meriam held it back. The Emperor however, did not.

“Ah yes. Because the grace, and nurturing, beauty of a woman can tame that town fool. I will not give peace to a land I know nothing of, and tries to control me! Guards! Send them to that rough warlock upon the hill. I want to see what he does with them before we execute him.” The emperor grinned. The soldier’s faces were calm, hiding an untameable hatred for their leader. One even whispered an apology to Meriam on the way.

           Unable to access the impressive majestic home, the six of them were left on the beach. Meriam sent Nihten off to look for the mage, of whom she knew was Sirulius. Nihten came back, saying a man was laying in the tide asleep, with a brass staph holding a dark crystal sphere which had an Orca in it; clad in gold and blue fish kingdom fairy robes. Meriam gestured for Asada to head up shore.

“Your groom awaits. We will be here, tanning like fat seals.” Meriam shrugged. Asada jumped with joy and ran off. Meriam pondered weather or not Sirulius would be happy to have a woman thrown at him, or not. If he was crazy enough to meet Asada’s needs, maybe he actually would become overjoyed with a wave of true love. That sounded nice. Finally, able to relax, Meriam and her men dipped their toes in the sea.

“My Queen! We found this odd staph in the sand!” a knight said, handing her a lapis luzli staph, carved like a fountain that held up two bronze koi at the top. It reminded her of Feon’s staph.

“This must be his storm staph,” Meriam said “storm-breaker mages go dark when their happy, causing them to lose themselves, and summon disastrous storms.” She said, like she was reading from an encyclopedia.

“So, I assume those birds flying away form the sea, and the darkening of the sky, means he likes Asada’s company your majesty?” Another knight asked. They heard panicking come from the village, and the tide receded meter by meter. A basal fear overcame them, as they looked out to sea, and saw a wall of water form.

“She is quite the woman…” He continued; as did and screaming of the villagers. Meriam stared into the typhoon with a calm gaze, as her men tried desperately not to leave their queen’s side; they eagerly awaited orders to flee.

“Can you wait here a few moments?” Meriam said calmly to her men. Then. The screaming then stopped, as did the water, and birds in the sky. There is never hurry, when time is at your will. Meriam calmly walked up the beach to see how much Asada and Sirulius were enjoying each others company. When she reached them, they were indeed, enjoying each other’s company. The thought of sand burn, and finding it in her garments, nearly made her gag. Meriam walked up, placed the staph in Sirulius’s hand, and admired him. No wonder Feon chose to paint him. He was striking to look at. Not in an overly handsome kind of way, but in the same way as a peacock. His blue hair glistened, and matched his blue eyes; and his smile was so genuine. He must be so lonely in a town of people who hate him. After making staphs to control his magic for them, they still sent ill words to the emperor. Meriam decided, in spite of interrupting the moment of young love, to make time resume while she was standing there.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you forgot your staph. And the emperor is here, and wants to kill you.” Meriam said calmly. The typhoon began to return to the sea, and cheers were heard form the village.

“Thanks! I was looking for it when this attractive lady of Indonia asked for my hand! After intense grasping, we are going to surf, make hats, and go home to eat fish with you; then resume our passion several times more. Then you can go find my brother in the forest of The Stone Gate to return home!” Sirulius said.

“Yes, but your emperor wants to kill you.”

“Everyone does; and yet, here I am! They always come when I am in my house, but my house is locked by a secret phrase I reset daily, because I forget the password…” He said, hugging in Asada, who hugged back. Meriam felt a little awkward, and coughed.

“Well, it is nice to meet you Sirulius. I will be heading back to my men and your, Castle? Have fun?” Meriam said. Meriam ran back to her men, then scolded them for not trusting her.

           At dinner, Sirulius and Asada shared tales about each other, while Meriam’s men intently listened. Meriam was busy enjoying the fish. When Sirulius brought out the liquor he made, the quality of the conversation began to drop as everyone’s words dissolved into laughter. Asada leaned in closer to Meriam.

“I was right!” she whispered. “It is nice to hold someone’s hand. I will stay here a little longer, and use a candle gate to get home; you go home without me, and hold your special someone’s hand too.” She whispered with joy. The way Asada worded it, sounded nice. With no resentment or labels; Meriam wanted to try that. She realized she was still mad about being ripped from her friend and family in Francia, and having her destiny chosen for her. She didn’t need that when she could have a moment with someone, that made nothing else matter. Then Meriam realized, she had those type of moments all the time.

NEXT--->

<---PREVIOUS

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Wicked, part 6 (DT royal AU)

Summary: While Dracovia says goodbye to their past king, the new ruler steps up as it burns their life to the ground.

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, death, indicating SMUT

Word count: 4456

WICKED - SERIES MASTERLIST

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“This is a peaceful gathering!” Y/N shouted, hoping the soldiers would see reason. She had begged her father to let the people gather on the border and protest the possibility of war between Dracovia and Astros as well as the signing of a peace treaty their king required. Y/N agreed, wanting to avoid bloodshed, to protect her people but also the people of Astros. If the kingdoms started a war, those most innocent would surely suffer and she couldn’t just ignore that. So, aware this was likely a ploy to see the princess of Dracovia to report her beauty back to their king, Y/N and her best friend arrived at the meeting point, the people following to show their support for the future dragon queen.

But it was anything but peaceful for as soon Y/N and Andrea joined the soldiers to sign the treaty, Andrea was forcefully taken right before her eyes. She felt her best friend’s hand slip from her grasp as they dragged her toward the block, Y/N’s pleading going unanswered.

She felt utterly helpless as she watched them force Andrea onto her knees and her head onto the block, the sword coming down on her so quickly Y/N had barely had time to exhale before the blood pooled and her friend’s head was no longer attached to her neck.

She swore she’ll never be so stupid, so naïve, so helpless ever again. But he found herself in the very same position.

She began to cry. She didn’t want to, she didn’t want the men to see her weakness, She couldn’t help it, though. She felt utterly alone and helpless.

Her screams echoed long into the night, filled with raging despair and the sorrowful betrayal she had been a victim of. She didn't break quietly, it was like every atom of her being screamed in unison, traumatized by all the things that were done to her since she was a child. She thought she was safe with Grayson, that she could entrust her heart and soul to him. When the wracking sobs passed, she cried in such a desolate way that no-one could bear to listen for long.

She finally understood her mother's words:

"Never trust any man and never love anyone but your children."

Y/N wished she stayed true to her initial reasoning, for her heart had clearly lied to her mind who had warned her of it all on numerous occasions.

She sunk to her knees, her entire body trembling, inconsolable. He had robbed her of her freedom, of her family's legacy, of her ability to love and trust. That was something much more sinister than a simple betrayal - she would have taken a dagger to the heart much kinder than what he had done to her.

So, there she sat, her face red and wet from tears she's spilled over her unfortunate fate - she was a queen with neither a crown nor a kingdom, the most powerful piece on the board with no moves left.

There was no room in her heart for love she had for Grayson anymore. All she had was hate, unparalleled hate. She wanted what was her and she planned on taking it – with fire and blood if necessary. She’s too proud to surrender, too proud to bend, too proud to lose. If war is what Grayson wants, she’d give it to him.

“My Queen?”

Y/N recognized the voice of her lady immediately, the door opening right after. Standing up, she quickly wiped her tears away and straightened her back. No one can see her emotions anymore. She had put despair and fear aside as if they were garments she simply did not wish to wear. She’s a dragon and she’s not afraid to burn heaven down if it meant protecting her kingdom.

“We need to go to Dracovia.” That’s all Y/N said before walking past her lady, certain she was free even if it’s been at least five or six hours since her husband locked her up in the tower.

“Who will we call? The kingdom fell without a single shot fired!” Mareen shouted, effectively stopping her queen in her spot, the aftershock of her lady’s words just registering with her.

“What do you mean? I thought Dracovia was burning.” Y/N tried to keep her voice leveled and her mind open, but she started to shake, visibly trembling in a fit of rage. Why would her people ever surrender to a foreign invader? Why would they give up everything without a fight?

“Apparently your late father did the burning,” Mareen responded a little quieter for she could sense the danger in her Queen’s posture and even more in the tone of voice she used whenever she tried to conceal how close to madness she truly is.

“So…he is dead.” Y/N sighed, closing her eyes as she pressed her lips together. She felt horrible about not feeling horrible about his death at all. In a way, she always knew he wasn’t a good man, but he was always good to her...as good as he could be considering the way he had brought her up - a woman with no trust, no love, no remorse in her heart...a woman who was taught to use her body and mind in the most wicked ways possible. 

“I’m afraid so,” Mareen responded, waiting for an order from her queen. But Y/N needed a moment to breathe. She had just gotten confirmation she no longer had any parents in this world, that she has a whole kingdom on her shoulders now. It’s one thing to think about what kind of a queen she wanted to be, but to actually have to be one at such a young age was different.

“Contact Sir Pembelton. He’ll be much more loyal to me than Sir Mance ever was.” Y/N ordered, heading for the shores where she expected to find her knight, the one spy she had recruited herself a little after Andrea died. She knew he’d be there before her for Sir Pembelton was always on time even when a time frame wasn’t set. She believed him to be more knowledgable of the situation than herself.

Her heart breaks with every step she takes through the halls, walking out into the rose garden she had grown accustomed to. This place, the castle…it felt like home. She wanted to remember it as such, not allowing her husband’s betrayal to taint the memories.

All she could do was to bow her head until her chin touched her chest and keep walking. Finding her place on the beach, the crashing waves licking at her bare feet, she drew in a deep breath to stop herself from losing her nerve.

“Enjoying quiet walks on the beach?”

She didn’t need to turn around to know it was the gallant knight she handpicked that stood behind her. Truth be told, there was a time she wanted to name him her king, but that was over once her father allowed her to be traded like cattle for a peace no one truly kept.

“Not as much as sitting on my throne.” Y/N quipped, smirking once he stepped before her only to fall on one knee in respect.

“Your majesty.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder, allowing him to stand proudly once more. He still looked as dark and as brooding as the first time she laid her eyes on him when she was barely fourteen. He was her friend, perhaps the only man who has yet to fail her. His light blue eyes are stark different in comparison, filled with an undeniable melancholy she only ever saw on the day they parted – when he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and gave her a note…a note where he admitted to the great love he bears her, the love he assumed was hopeless.

There had been many nights when she wondered what would have happened if she didn’t send him off to Astros, but she knew she’d never trust any soldier as much as she trusted him to be loyal. He was a descent of the dragon himself, one of the rare ones, and the dragons stick together.

“Brooks, you never have to bow to me when we’re alone.” She told him, her hand resting on his shoulder still. He offered her a lopsided smile, his eyes drowning her in memories she shouldn’t cling to. It felt as if she was committing a great sin, as if this small act of gentle conversation was one of cheating on her spouse…the one who had taken her kingdom from her without a warning, without any sign of betraying her. But she felt guilty nonetheless, taking a step back for her own sanity and morality.

“I need to go home and I believe you know why.” Brooks has never been a man of many words, his response being a simple nod.

“And I need my army with me when we get there. Can you arrange that?” She cocked her head to the side when he nodded once more before speaking into his earpiece and she heard the unmistakable sound of an approaching helicopter.

“Your majesty, the king is asking for you.” Mareen whispered, holding a hand over the phone as she tried to push it into Y/N’s hand. She takes it, looking at it, pondering, but not for long. In a fit, she curled her hand around it and pulled her arm back before sending the phone flying into the ocean.

“Whatever it is, I do not care. I’ll see him in less than an hour.”

**

However, when Y/N arrived to her beloved kingdom, she found herself in quite a shock. Not only did the people come out to greet her, free as they seem, the army was there as well, not one of the soldiers fighting for their kingdom. What’s worse, neither were Astrovian soldiers.

Dracovia seemed too peaceful considering there was a change in power. Their king had been killed, yet they disregarded it as dirt under their fingernails. But the oddest part was that they regarded her as their Queen, as if nothing had changed at all.

“Have they all assumed he came for the throne in my name?” Y/N wondered out loud as she passed the crowds from above, heading to the castle. If Grayson came under false pretense to claim the throne for her - the rightful heir, it wouldn’t be so shocking to see the people have caved so quickly.

“That’s because he did. King Grayson didn’t claim the throne in his name, but your name, Majesty.” Brooks spoke up and Y/N nearly choked on her own saliva. How could she believe that after the way he treated her like a criminal and had her locked up in a room he clearly prepared months before…ever since he knew of her plan to dethrone him and take Astros for herself. He knew all along and she gave him so many chances to admit to it but he only ever gave her one. Had he told her what he knew, too many of their disputes would have never happened and she would have…she would have told him the full truth. They could have been happy.

How could she trust him now when he had fooled her so many times before?

“I miss when you called me honey.” Y/N whispered solemnly, pushing the thought out of her mind. She would see her husband any minute now, there was no need to dwell on what if’s. After all, no one calls you honey when you’re sitting on a throne.

The first one to meet her at the landing tower was the sworn sword who had betrayed her. The man she thought would die if she ordered so, but he was quick to bow to a man he didn’t even know.

“My princess, I beg your forgiveness.” He kneeled, his sword placed in his hands as he offered her to do what she wished with him – spare him or kill him with his own sword.

“I am not your little princess!” She spat, disgusted with the man who swore an oath to be loyal only to her. “I am a queen and it will do you well to remember that Sir Mance for I can have your head for treason.” She threatened but she didn’t touch the sword offered to her. Instead, she left the old knight on his knees without a pardon either.

Once at the castle, Y/N headed toward the throne room. If she would find Grayson anywhere, it would be there, surrounded by the council and ready to be crowned.

“THE QUEEN!” A chorus of shouting had begun as she entered, everyone dropping to their knees moments after. Everyone, but Grayson.

“You’ve arrived just in time. You’re to be crowned queen in the wake of your father’s death.” Grayson explained, watching her for a reaction. There is a rawness about her that many don’t see nor understand. She is chaos in the wind and fire across the sky and not everyone appreciates the beauty of a storm for most cower in fear and hide. He knew she wasn’t happy about any of it, especially with the way he handled things, but he had to act fast and there were far too many things he couldn’t tell her.

She swallowed her pride and feigned her marriage is as perfect as everyone believes. She couldn’t tell the kingdom how her husband had went behind her back and now she was to be a mother to a man who would never trust her and she didn’t think she could trust him either. Not ever after the stunt he pulled.

Crowned in glory, the pair took their seats at the throne before the room cleared out and gave them much needed peace as a celebration began outside.

“Why?” It’s all he asked as she pulled her crown off as it felt too heavy for the first time in her life. She had always carried the crown with grace and class, but she couldn’t bear the heaviness of the crown her mother once bore. The same woman who told her never to love anyone, to have only suspicion and hate in her heart. The woman who had died before Y/N could understand her words fully.

“Your father was sending men to attack his own people. Besides, it was never his throne to sit on. You don’t have to believe me, but the things he had done to your mother…I believe he killed her. I think he’d kill our child as well if he had a chance.” Grayson glanced at her, eyeing the stony expression on her face as she stared into a wall passively. Grayson expected her to shout, to scream, to set the whole castle alight, anything but the silence she gave him.

“This marriage wasn’t of convenience for me,” Grayson spoke silently, placing his hand over hers gingerly in fear of scaring her…or worse, in fear of being pushed away. He meant to tell her no convenience would force him to marry but the love he had already felt for her for a long time.

“Yeah, if anything it was of inconvenience.” She responded coldly, no longer prepared to wage a war. A part of her understood for that part of her remembered the horrors of her childhood. That part of her knew that her upbringing wasn’t exactly normal either. She was aware her father had been a monster, but he was all she had. He never put a hand on her, despite all his shortcomings.

Unable to bear a conversation with Grayson right now, Y/N stood and walked away. She rushed through the halls that held so many haunting memories, going to her bedroom, the one place she could hide from the world. But Grayson couldn’t let her go. Not yet. Not right now. Not when he knew that sooner rather than later, he’d have to leave her in Dracovia.

“What are you thinking?” He asked, watching her with a pensive look on his face. It took all his effort to stand, to face her now. He longed for her, but most of all, he wanted her to show him emotion. Any emotion.

“What I’m thinking is that the only man I ever trusted, my husband has deceived me!” And emotion is what he got. He wanted anger, but he got pain – so much pain and distrust and he knew then the only way he could reconcile is to use their physical bond instead of the vastly damaged emotional one.

Sitting on the bed, Grayson pulled his armor off.

"Come here," he said quietly, each word difficult.

She did so immediately. "Yes, my king."

He frowned slightly and held his arm out for her but she did not seem to see it. He looked up to see his love standing at the foot of the bed, unmoving. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"I am waiting for your command, my king." She kept her words plain, her head still held high despite her attitude.

"My command?" he frowned, for all the movement added onto the headache he’s had from the moment he left her in bed earlier. "Then undress yourself for bed." He was puzzled by her words. Why didn't she rage at him? He could have handled her anger. He could have handled anything but this plastic Barbie act.

"Yes, my king," Y/N answered. Her voice was a monotone.

When he was undressed, Grayson went slowly to the bed. Y/N was already there, the covers to her neck, her eyes staring up at the canopy. He climbed under the covers and moved closer to her. Her skin against his was soothing. He ran his hand down her arm but she did not react like she used to. He leaned over, began to kiss her but her eyes did not close and her lips were unresponsive. She refused to give into him and his desire, but most of all, she would not be trapped into forgiving him for a little pleasure.

"What’s wrong with you?" Grayson demanded an answer, worried she had gotten hurt somehow or that she was distressed.

"Wrong with me, my king?" she said evenly, looking steadily into his eyes. "I don't know what you mean. I am yours to command for I am just a woman and you the great king that clearly knows best. Tell me your wish and I will obey. Do you wish to mate with me? Then I will obey." She moved her thigh against his and it took Grayson a few minutes to realize that she had spread her legs for him.

He stared at her, aghast. He knew crudity was not natural to her. "Y/N," he began, "I wanted to explain it all—"

"Explain, my king? What must you explain to me? Do you explain your actions to the servants? I am yours no less than they are. If that weren’t true, you wouldn’t have lied to me every time I asked if there was something you wanted to tell me – anything and I would have told you everything. If that wasn’t the case, you’d have told me before invading my country and killing my father, the last of my family. Had it been untrue, you would tell me what else you’re hiding from me because I refuse to believe you got the throne for me just for the sake of it. You knew it would push me away from you for I regard my throne as my soul, my people as my heart. You don’t want a wife or a queen, you want a brainless doll that goes along with all you want. Just tell me how I may obey you and I will."

Grayson began to move away from her. He did not like the way Y/N looked at him. At least, when she hated him, there had been life in her eyes. Now there was none. He left the bed. Before he knew what he did, he pulled on the classy doublet he was given to wear for the coronation and his boots, his other clothes thrown over his arm, and left the cold chamber.

Neither of them would sleep that night, chambers set apart by a wall thin enough for him to hear her heartbreaking sobs, but too thick for him to hold her through it. How could he ever change what he did, especially when he did it for her? He didn’t regret it still, because no matter what, he knew her better than she thought. He knew this would be the only way to make sure the plan works.

Come next morning, he was in her chambers before she called anyone to wait on her. She sat at her bay window, one alike the improvised one Grayson had built for her back in Astros. It was the kindest thing he had done for her in the early days of their marriage. He bought her the most beautiful jewels, fed her incredible food, but that couch he had set for her was her favorite thing about that room.

“What can I do to fix this and bridge the distance between us?” Grayson asked, playing the part he had to in order for her to believe him that he was repentant. He needed their separation to be her idea for only then would she be too proud, too stubborn to follow him home.

Turning to face him, she hugged her robe closer to her body, hiding herself from him as if he could see through the cotton.

“I need you to leave. I need you to leave and not come back.” She spoke with tears glistening in her eyes - from hurt, from anger? Grayson couldn’t tell.

“What about us? Our marriage? Our baby?” Grayson questioned, knowing he’s gotten exactly what he wanted but he hoped it wouldn’t be so hard to do for him and so easy for her. He hoped she’d still fight for him to stay, to know why he’s done it behind all the excuses he’s provided. His plan worked a little too well and he felt the cracks in his heart deepen.

“I don’t know.” She shook her head, turning her back on him to hide the pained expression that his words instilled on her face. “Even after all this, you still choose to lie to me. You still hold secrets and I’m done with those. For whatever reason, you’ve decided to ruin us, so I’ll give you what you want. Go.”

She wanted him to say something – anything. She wanted him to fight for her, to say he couldn’t imagine life without her and to fall to his knees and beg forgiveness which she’d give…even after everything, she’d give him the forgiveness and love he seeks.

But there was no grand apology made nor was there any apology made at all. He had nodded to himself, trying to stop himself from breaking apart.

“One more thing. Andrea didn’t die by our hand. Your father organized the peace treaty without ever telling us. He had her killed in order to weaponize you. He’s got it written in his diaries which are left in the safe behind his bed.” Grayson informed her before he remembered what she asked of him. She asked him to leave.

And he did. With a heavy heart he’s left behind in her hands, Grayson walked away from the woman of his dreams, the one love he never thought he’d have to sacrifice.

He collected Ethan and his soldiers, ready to return to Astros to a bed much colder, a kingdom much emptier without her. What’s a crown when your heart suffers?

“He’s still there. In case you want to see him one last time.” Lady Mareen told her, peering out the balcony onto the courtyard where Grayson stood, looking back with a desire to see his dragon bride as if she was the cure for all that ails him.

She had no idea why she allowed him to do it to her over and over again. Each time was a new start, a fresh him, a chance to leave the disappointments behind. Her heart sank and her anger flared.

'Never again', she vowed under her breath. But how many times had she said that before? Too many times. Did she mean it this time? She hoped so. It was time to move on. Before summoning her dressers she recast her face into one of superiority, erasing the crestfallen face that belonged to a girl her age but not to a queen.

“We have other business to attend to. I need to see what daddy most vile did in his reign.”

So as Grayson hoped to catch her image one last time, Y/N had numbed herself into indifference.

In his eyes swam ghosts of regrets and self-loathing, for he could have done a lot of things much better, made his life much easier. But he had already messed everything up and it is easier to have her see him as the bad guy. She’d let him go easier.

“She’s never going to forgive you for this.” Ethan leaned on the car next to his brother, telling him what he already knows.

“It’s the only way I know she’ll be safe. Until we find who is working against us in our own midst, the fucking spy.” Grayson paused, gritting his teeth to calm his anger, the real reason why he had to do what he did.

“If she stayed with me, they would have killed her, especially if they knew she was pregnant with my heir. This way, I know she’s safe. I am just one man, I can’t save her. Without her tyrannical father, she has a whole kingdom to protect her.” Grayson smiled softly to himself, reminded why he had done this in the first place.

While his enemies work to kill him, he had made a safe haven for his wife. He couldn’t trust her father to protect her, not when he had her throne because he had killed her mother. Grayson didn’t believe his wife or his kid would survive him if he sent her home to hide her from this conspiracy. He also didn’t believe she’d leave if he told her what is at stake. She’s far too stubborn for her own good.

Grayson had set fire to his entire world, not allowing a single flame to touch her.

“Maybe so, but you know I’d have died to save her too.” Ethan quipped, trying to forgive his brother for pulling him into this mess in the first place.

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Tags: @graysavant​​​ @yaren-ates​​​ @beinscorpio​​​ @dolandolll​​​ @godlydolans​​​ @dolanstwintuesday​​​ @accalialionheart​​​ @peacedolantwins​​​ @heyits-claire​​​ @graydolan12​​​ @gia-kerks​​​ @justordinaryjen​​​  @dopedoodes​​​ @sunshinedolantwins​​​ @pitreshawn @melodiesforari​

[springday-aus]

Untold Mermaid Tales: Sunmi’s Story

Fic Piece Written By: Admin Grandma of @springday-aus​

Moodboard Link Created By: Admin Grandpa

Main Character: Lee Sunmi (formally known from Wonder Girls)

Additional Characters: (in order of mention) Kim Yubin, Park Jonghyun, Yoon Junyoung

Genre: historical, fantasy, mermaid!au, revenge story

Type: one-shot writing piece 

Word Count: approx. 6.3k

Plot Summary: Sunmi dreams of leaving home to be a sailor. Her opportunity comes when her brother is sick and she’s sent to care for him overseas. However, the journey goes sour as the real implications of her presence are revealed and feelings get hurt. 

Warnings: [lots of sexism] - sexual harassment, rape is implied, murder mentions. 

For centuries, humans have believed that mermaids are nothing more than mythical creatures of the sea. It started from folklore and fairytales, like The Little Mermaid leading to their current portrayals in the media, such as Aquamarine or Ocean Girl. This is what essentially feeds humans the illusion of mermaids as beautiful beings who do nothing more than sing and swim, leading sailors astray from their paths. 

While it’s true that these creatures are magical, in no way are they as enchanting as they seem. Mermaids may seem to be carefree and gentle because they don’t have a human life on land to worry about. However, they are beings filled with spite, fueled by revenge and bitterness. To understand why is too complex to explain, but they have one goal: to avenge themselves by dragging down the men who dared to have them thrown overboard. 

Along the pier on the edge of Busan sits a young woman closely observing the sea. The waves crash lightly underneath her, the small mists of water spritzed itself into the air, splashing her every once in a while. The salty sea shimmers as it sways from a distance, sparkling against the limited light the sun provides. Just where the horizon starts to fully set lies the clothes of faded pinks, blending within the mix of pale yellows and light scarlet-orange. Despite the darkening sky, incoming ships continue to arrive in the docks, just a couple of blocks short from the pier.

Sumni sits upright and cross-legged, staring out into the never-ending waters—watching the fluttering sails continuously cut through the sunset with its’ shapes getting gradually bigger as time passes. Each one seems the same for everyone else, but to her, each is just as mesmerizing as the next. 

As her thoughts lost themselves within the sea, another’s footsteps lightly taps on the pier’s wood, getting closer to her with each step. She doesn’t budge. 

“Take a seat, Yubin.” She taps the empty spot next to her. “You and I both know I’m not going anywhere for a while.” 

With a shake of her head, Yubin chuckles but takes the seat regardless. “At this point, you should sleep here,” she says. “You practically live on this pier.” 

“There’s no point if I’m leaving tomorrow.” 

“Are you excited? You’re going to be an official sailor.” 

“Of course, I’m excited—slightly nervous, but I’ve been waiting for this since I was ten.” Sunmi leans back on her hands, taking in the scene once more. “I need to see more than just what I’ve read. I can’t just stay here for all of my life.” 

Yubin hums in response, nodding along to Sunmi’s words. 

“Don’t be mistaken,” Sumni says. “I’ll miss you and my family.” 

“But?” 

“Something tells me this is my one chance—another opportunity like this won’t come.” 

Yubin smiles fondly at her, before giving her a small nudge. “Well, at least you’re taking it. You’re lucky. You get to be more than just a housewife or school teacher. Nothing’s wrong with it, but…” She pauses, looking down at her lap. “You got a chance to do more.” 

Sunmi huffs in response. Glancing around, she continues to speak, but with a lowered tone. “I have to confess though. It doesn’t feel right.” 

“What are you talking about?” Yubin asks. “You’ll get to achieve your dreams to see the world beyond Busan, and who knows? Maybe, even meet a nice man, like your captain!” 

“That’s just it though,” Sunmi says. “Captain Park... something feels off about him.” 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear—as if on cue, Park Jonghyun makes his way over from his ship on the docks and along the pier. He jumps onto the sandy shore, breathing in the fresh, foreign air, since he and his crew just arrived from Japan. They’re on their way to Montréal to meet up with St. Laurent, but made a pit stop in the south for additional supplies and shipmates. 

With his black boots thudding against the ground below him, his tall silhouette moves swiftly to gather some equipment to prepare themselves for their journey tomorrow morning. However, he stops in his tracks once he spots the two women nearby. Without a word to his crew, he heads over towards them in long strides. 

His presence doesn’t go unnoticed. The ladies take notice of the man in uniform with the broad shoulders and firm thighs heading their way. The wind picks up, sweeping his dark hair back with grace—his eyes never wavering from them. Dear lord, he’s attractive, but it would’ve been better if he wasn’t aware of it. 

“Ladies.” He bows his head down as if he’s tipping an imaginary hat. “Are you lost?” 

Yubin looks enchanted. Whereas, Sunmi easily get sup from her spot, dusting off her pants. Straightening her shoulders back, she looks up to him with crossed arms. “No, but we were just about to head back.” 

“It’s getting a bit dark, ladies—seems dangerous to be walking alone. Would you like an escort back?” 

“No, thank you…” She quickly scans him from head to toe. “It’s more dangerous to get strangers involved.” 

He simply smiles at her. “Captain Park Jonghyun.” He bows his head once more. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

Yubin visibly perks up, suddenly realizing who he is. “You’re Captain Park?”

“Yes, miss. You are?” 

“Kim Yubin, but you would be much more interest in my friend.” 

Sunmi resists the urge to roll her eyes at Yubin’s side comment. “Lee Sunmi. I’ll be part of your crew as of tomorrow. It’s a pleasure to properly meet you.” 

“The Sunmi?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ah,” he says. He looks off into the distance, brushing his hair out of the way. “I knew you were familiar. You’ve got a face that can’t be forgotten.” 

It’s really amazing what connections can do for a woman in the ‘60s. When Sunmi’s older brother, Junho, fell ill, her father nearly collapsed from the news and her mother cried for days. Both parents feared the worst illness imaginable. Both parents were, and still are, always far more concerned for their son than their daughter. Granted, Junho was drafted into the war, but, in Sunmi’s defense, he came back in one piece. When he permanently moved to California, their parents acted as if he was off to war all over again. 

Anyways, their parents insisted on having someone go to care for him and Sunmi was set to leave. It’s not like she has any complaints—she’ll get to see Junho and the beautiful places she’s only read about in her books. Once it was decided Sunmi would leave, her father pulled a couple of strings and called in favor to arrange for her departure. 

Turns out, her father’s coworker’s cousin knew someone who happened to work for the Park’s family estate—a very high-profiled family with an incredible lineage of sailors who knew their way around the seas. Fortunately, Jonghyun was generous enough to let Sunmi come along. 

“It’d be good for a woman to see the world,” he had said. 

Since Jonghyun’s decision, her father had been directly contacted, which resulted with many letters from Mr. Lee to thank the Park family for letting his irrepressible daughter along Jonghyun’s trip. 

Sunmi had also made contact with him, once he’d accepted her to be part of his crew. (Thank God for those English books.) They exchanged letters and pictures to keep one another updated as to how long the journey would take, where they would be stopping, when they would arrive, etc. Between the letter exchanges, she couldn’t help but feel a bit thrown off from Jonghyun’s manners. Even though she hasn’t met him before, there was a growing suspicion towards him—she couldn’t pinpoint what it is about him that makes him so... odd. Maybe it was how quick he’d accepted her onboard, or the way he complimented her on having a classy chassis when he’d first gotten her first photo—something was just off... 

But, despite her apprehension towards him, she’s grateful for him—she’s had nothing else to look forward to until the past year, fearing that she would be stuck as some sexist’s wife. The 20th century has been progressive so far, but it’s not progressive enough for women to stop being passed as someone’s wife or sister—she isn’t getting much younger and her father would not stop stressing it. She knows had it not been for Jonghyun, she wouldn’t be allowed on a ship until another’s century passed. 

“You’ve gotten by photographs,” Sunmi says. 

“They don’t do you justice.” He takes her hand and kisses the back of it. “Lovely to meet you, little miss. I look forward to working with you. What brings you to the pier?” 

“I’m always here—” 

“And I’ve forgotten that you’re always here.” Jonghyun lowers himself to really look at her. “I was told by your father that you can be found in two places: an ocean or the river. Always drawn to the water, huh?” 

She gives him a tight-lipped smile, feeling slightly put-off from the close proximity of his face. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” 

“That’ll certainly be handy when you’re actually out on the seas. It’s a dangerous journey, do you think you’re ready?” 

“Of course I am, Captain.” 

“Sorry to interrupt.” Yubin glances between them, before turning her full attention to Jonghyun. “But we should be heading back. Dinner’s ready and we all need some time to say goodbye to her.” 

“Of course.” Jonghyun raises an eyebrow at the both of them. “Are you sure you don’t need a man to take you back?” 

“No, thank you,” Sunmi says. “We’ll get back just fine.” She turns away from him, without waiting for a reply, and promptly yanks on Yubin’s arm to drag her along. 

As the distance between them grows, she shouts back to him. “See you tomorrow morning, Captain!” 

“He seems nice,” Yubin says. 

“I guess,” Sunmi mumbles. It’s more towards herself than Yubin, who continues to babble on about what a dreamboat he is, but nothing seems to settle the nerves in Sunmi’s stomach. 

Within a span of eleven hours, Sunmi’s dreams are finally going somewhere. At first, it doesn’t really settle in—even with her parents’ tearful goodbyes, as well as their stern warnings to not cause any trouble, and Yubin’s bone-crushing hug. It doesn’t set in until she stands at the edge of the pier at the break of dawn, with nothing more than her bag in hand, in front of the vessel known as ‘SUNRISE’. The adrenaline rushes through her veins. She can’t feel anything else but her heartbeat that continuously pounds in her chest with anxiety and excitement.

“Excuse me?” 

She turns around, facing an unfamiliar man in uniform—almost the same as Jonghyun’s. However, she notes, he doesn’t have the captain’s tags and carries fewer metals. He stands nearly a head taller than her and his brown hair is haphazardly brushed away from his face with eyes that give her an almost-bored look. 

Sunmi snaps herself out of her thoughts and manages to respond in time. “Yes?” 

“You can’t be here, we’re just about to leave.” He waves his hand away, dismissing her as if he’s swatting away a fly. “Go back to your husband.” 

She smiles at him, the brightest and fakest she can muster, despite the anger bubbling inside her chest. “Actually, I’m here with Captain Park. I’m supposed to meet him here at five.” 

He scans her appearance, before returning the fake smile with his own. “I’m sure you were.” 

A sudden arm wraps around the young man’s shoulder stops him from saying more. Jonghyun arrives in full uniform—unnoticeably breaking the brawl about to occur. Sunmi lets out a small sigh of relief from his presence; for once, she’s thankful for a man’s help. 

“Junyoung,” Jonghyun says. “That’s how we treat ladies.” He turns back to look at Sunmi. “My apologies, he tends to be a bit rude to everyone.” He gives her a wink. 

She gives another tight smile. “I understand.” 

Without a response, Junyoung removes himself from Jonghyun’s hold and trudges back to the boat, mumbling curses under his breath. Sunmi secretly glares at his retreating back and asks Jonghyun. “Who’s he?” 

“Co-captain Yoon—he’s a bit rough on the edges, but he knows how to handle a ship.” 

She almost growls, holding back as much as she can, yet her irritation is dismissed. Jonghyun smiles at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Now, why don’t you let me show you the way around the ship,” he says. “Just to be sure you don’t get lost.” 

Sunmi gives him a weird look, startled from the sudden touch, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he guides her towards the ship and make their way up to the bow. 

“So there’s all sorts of different ships. Sunrise, here, is a vessel, which operates differently from a sailing ship. It’s essentially built for cargo, as well as passenger transportation. It might be smaller, but it’s equally as powerful as the others.” He winks at her once more. “Now, we are currently on the bow, which means the front of the vessel. The opposite end—right over there—is called the stern…” 

Sunmi can only sigh, hoping he realizes she knows more than he thinks, as Jonghyun continues to talk. Oh, this is going to be an interesting month. 

A week in and Sunrise has had nothing but smooth sailing—for the ship itself at least. Throughout the week and into the following week, the waters remain calm, the wind continue to steer them, and no damages have occurred. Unfortunately, Sunmi has had no such luck with the crew. It’s hard enough for her to adjust as the only woman onboard; she has gotten used to life on the sea, but the other shipmates still haven’t gotten used to her. 

On top of all this, she still hasn’t learned anything on actually handling the ship, like Jonghyun promised she would be able to do—which is why she finds herself a couple of feet away from Junyoung, practically peaking over his shoulder, in hopes of getting a glimpse as to what he’s doing. Despite how openly sexist he is towards her, she oddly prefers him over Jonghyun because Junyoung just ignores her (for the most part). On the other hand, while Jonghyun’s clearly nicer, he has a certain aura that alludes whenever she gets close—it’s all smiles with him and his hand always finds a place on her body, whether it’s grabbing her hand or placing an arm around her shoulders. It’s disturbing. 

Sunmi shudders at the thought of him and his behavior for the past few days. No, she needs to focus. Right now, Junyoung is readjusting some of the ropes tied to the lookout point. She takes a couple of notes into her notebook, from his movements to the aftermath of his actions. 

Junyoung might not explain to her what he’s doing or why he does it, but she knows she’s smart enough to figure it out—she’s red enough books to figure it out on her own. The other sailors often laugh at her—telling her all those little notes are nothing more than useless memos and there’s no point in recording such mundane tasks. She doesn’t bother listening to their little jabs at her because, who knows, maybe later in her life, she’ll be able to use this information on one of her own future expeditions. 

At least, that’s what she hopes. 

Junyoung has already moved to something else, chatting away with another sailor—Eddy. Sunmi makes herself busy and double-checks her notes, not noticing the shadow that lures behind her. 

“What’s this, doll?” Jonghyun asks. 

She flinches, clutching a hand over her chest. “You scared me!” 

He ignores her and takes the notebook out of her hands. He asks again. “What’s this?” 

“My notes.” 

“Why have notes when you have me?” 

She lets out a long sigh, already drained from his presence and this conversation. She grabs the notebook from his hand. “Captain, you haven’t taught me anything new.” 

He takes it right back and taps it on her head, as if she’s a puppy. “I teach you new things all the time.” 

“With all due respect, sir, I would much prefer it if you would just let me—” 

“A-okay, it’s set. If you have anymore questions, you can ask me directly.” He smiles at her once again, placing the notebook into his inner jacket pocket. “If you want this back, you come to me.” 

She gives up quickly, knowing he’ll just continue to push himself onto her like this—as he has been for the entire week. “Of course, Captain.” 

He smiles down at her. “How many times have I told you?” 

She lets out another long sigh, but Jonghyun ignores it. 

“Call me Jonghyun.” He places an arm on her shoulder. “We’re closer than that.” 

She gives him a short, forced smile and removes herself from Jonghyun’s hold. She walks off to cool down by finding something else to reoccupy herself with. He’s the captain and she knows better than to walk into uncharted territory with him. 

Just as Sunmi walks off, Junyoung comes back around, swigging an arm around Jonghyun’s shoulders. “Oh, Jong, Jong, Jong,” he says with a singing tone. “Just what are you planning?” 

Jonghyun smirks. “Don’t be such a wet rag, Jun. I’m just having some fun.” His eyes easily find Sunmi’s figure from a distance. “She’s not easy…” His eyes roam her curves once more. “And I like a challenge.” 

“And how do you plan on conquering this one?” 

“With this,” Jonghyun says. He takes out Sunmi’s notebook with a tight grip, but lightly waves it in Junyoung’s face. “She’ll come for it sooner or later.”

Unfortunately for Sunmi, she comes sooner rather than later. It’s been about two days after, when Sunmi is in Jonghyun’s cabins, but she’s not alone. Junyoung stands next to her, clearly agitated from the whole situation. Jonghyun stands in front of them, slightly amused from Sunmi. According to the other shipmates, an incident happened—resulting with a handprint on Junyoung’s face from Sunmi. 

“Okay,” Jonghyun says. “What happened?” 

“Your crew is led by a big. That’s what happened.” 

“That is not what happened,” Junyoung says. 

Sunmi scoffs at his remark. “What a nosebleed,” she mutters. 

“What did you call me?” 

“Okay!” Jonghyun says. He steps between the two of them, patting Junyoung’s shoulder. “Yoon, you can leave. I’ll talk to Sunmi.” 

“What?!” 

Junyoung smirks at her, making her feel like smacking him up once more. He heads to the door and, before he closes it, he mouths to Jonghyun: “I’ll be back.” 

Jonghyun nods at him, then turns to Sunmi once the door’s shut. He lets out a little laugh, then turns back to what he was originally doing. He stands over to a table, where a large map of the Atlantic lies. 

Sunmi stays rooted in her spot, watching Jonghyun move around. “Captain? Can I explain?” 

He finally looks at her, nodding to himself, then takes a seat. “Sure.” 

She lets out a small breath of relief. “Thank you, Captain. Now, as I was going to explain—” 

“Why don’t you grab a seat?” 

She looks around, spotting a nearby stool and sits herself a couple of feet away from him. She takes a deep breath, trying to collect herself. There’s so much that had unfolded in so little time that she hasn’t had a moment to herself. 

Jonghyun still hasn’t taught her anything throughout the time span that she has been here. How is she supposed to understand what should be tied to which knots and where? How is she supposed to know which direction they’re going in? What the hell did “jibe” mean? There’s so much she’s read to learn about, yet it doesn’t matter if she’s not actually getting the hands-on experience she wants—but trust Sunmi to know she wasn’t about to stay put and do nothing. 

She made it a mission for herself to learn, since no one was willing to teach her how to actually operate the ship. That resulted with her to floating around, observing each sailor and the tasks they were assigned to do—to make mental notes as to what they were doing. Since Henry took away her notebook, she’s been trying to remember purely through memory rather than record. It’s the only notebook she brought with her. 

On the other hand, the other shipmates originally thought she was there to care for them. For a while, she did—until she realized they were just ordering her around as if she was the maid. When she asked for an explanation as to why, Junyoung merely shrugged. “Boys will be boys,” he said. 

She was originally planning on just ignoring him, knowing he was going to say something among those lines. But then, she’d heard him say to another sailor. “She needs to work from the bottom first. She’s already on her knees for the captain.” 

Before she knew it, her anger had gotten the best of her and she slapped him. She doesn’t regret it. Enough is enough; it’s time for her to step up. 

She’s taking this opportunity to bring up one of her bigger concerns. She doesn’t need to explain herself to some man who probably thinks she’s just being temperamental. 

She sits straight with her arms crossed over her chest. She stares at Jonghyun, trying to figure him out before saying anything else. Eventually, after a few moments of silence, she finally speaks. “Captain, I am having trouble understanding something.” 

He isn’t even looking at her. His eyes remain trained on the map in front of him. “What exactly are you referring to?” 

“Sir, I’m here to learn. I want to learn how to sail, but I can’t do that if you aren’t teaching me anything.” 

She’s gotten his attention now. He looks up to her, before straightening up to look down at her. “I teach you new things all the time. Remember when I let you ring the bell? That was a big responsibility.” 

“I haven’t learned anything new, sir. I want to sail. I can’t just watch everyone on the sidelines. If you would let me pair up with Hyunsuk to help lookout, or even with Roy in the engine room—” 

Jonghyun shakes his head at her. “If you get too involved, it could get messy and things would get harder—” 

“Captain, please just let me—” 

“—just stay put for now. Once we’ve settled, we’ll show you around on how things work, okay?” He gives her another pearly white smile, but her frustration is overpowering. She finds herself more annoyed than when she originally came in. If one complaint is going to be filed as trash, might as well add in another. Her shoulders loosen up and her arms are released to her sides—the displeasure from over the past week has officially caught up to her. 

“What about Junyoung?” She asks. 

“What’s wrong with Co-captain Yoon?” 

Sunmi almost laughs. “He’s been spreading rumors about me for the entire past week and the other shipmates are just egging him on. I think something should be done about him.” 

“He’s just joking. He does it to everyone—he doesn’t mean any harm.” 

“Then what are you going to do about the rumors? Or about how the way the rest of the crew is treating me? They all think I’m some easy gal you got fast with.” 

At this, Jonghyun walks over to him, causing Sunmi to follow as well. He stands close, but far enough to lower himself to her eye level, grabbing her shoulders lightly. “Doll, don’t worry about it.” His hand slowly trails along her arm and plays with her fingers, without breaking eye contact. “We can take care of those rumors right now, if you’d like. We can make a bit more true than false.” 

She untangles her hand from him and smacks him away. “Forget it, I’ll deal with them myself.” 

He reaches out to her once more. “Baby, I can take care of you.” 

She shakes her head and steps back further from him. “I don’t need you to take care of me. I don’t need you closer to me.” 

He grabs her wrist once more, except it’s a rougher touch than before. “Doll, you said you wanted to sail.” 

“I do.” She yanks her wrist out of his hand once more. “But not like this. I don’t need you closer.” 

Jonghyun goes silent for a while—his shiny pearls starting to shine a little less. “Now, Sunmi,” he says slowly. “Don’t get so emotional. I’ll give you some time to cool it. But…” 

He scans her once more, his eyes lingering a bit longer on her body a it more than she would’ve liked and chooses to ignore. “You know where I’ll be if you change your mind.” He gives her another wink, insinuating exactly what she fears. 

She blinks at him, not believing what she just heard,  trying to shake his words out of her system. Turning around on her heel, she heads for the door at a leisurely pace. “Don’t get your hopes up, Captain. This over-emotional lady will be in her cabin. I want to be clear. That is not an invitation.” She looks to the side. “I need to be alone.” 

She slams the door shut and he stands for a while, staring at nothing, before chuckling at her antics. Oh, her father’s wrong—she’s more than just a troublemaker. She’s pretty, which is worth bringing on the trip, but it’s not worth the inconvenience she’s bringing. 

He walks towards his previous set up. His jacket is tossed somewhere in the room and his hair is messily tousled. He sits on his chair, resting his feet on the table. A couple of knocks on his door breaks his train of thought. 

Junyoung enters a fresh case of glass bottled beers in hand. “I have returned.” He sets a bottle on the table. “I figured you would need this after talking to the ship’s mooncalf.” 

Without hesitation, Jonghyun grabs a bottle and takes a swig. “And this is why you’re the co-captain.” 

The two sit back and chat, figuring out some additional notes for the journey ahead—sorting out the food supply, the stop in California (and possibly a couple of islands), and all the other little details that can be worked out later. Eventually, they do address the source of their headaches. However, it was only after drowning down all the beers and a couple of bottles from Jonghyun’s oh-so special liquor cabinet. 

“If she keeps this up for the rest of the month,” Junyoung says. “I might just toss her to the sharks.” 

Jonghyun squints at him, trying to realign his vision to somewhat focus on the other man. “She’s really something man. She just—just… just insults me on my own god—goddamned ship.” 

“She should consider herself lucky to even be here.” 

“You see,” Jonghyun says. “That—I thought the same thing.” 

Junyoung huffs. “She needs to be reminded where her place is.” 

Jonghyun silently thinks for a moment. The gears start to shift, but with a sudden familiar gleam in his eyes and another shiny smile, he speaks again. “Say, Yoon. What shall we do if she does just fall off the ship?” 

Sunmi tosses and turns in her small mattress as the boat continues to rock through the night. Granted, the smooth sailing wasn’t going to continue forever, as they continue on with the journey, but it shouldn’t be this bad. It’s the third sleepless night in a row, a couple of nights after being in Jonghyun’s cabin making it worse for her sleep needs. 

Since the conversation, she’s been avoiding him like the plague, but he always seems to find her. She knows she can’t avoid him on a ship, but she just needs her space from him. With the lack of sleep, it’s clear she’s becoming more and more fed-up—at both the captains and the crew. It’s almost as if their behavior has gotten worse: something she did not think was possible. Jonghyun’s smiles have got slimier and Junyoung’s scowls are becoming a more permanent fixture on his face. 

She groans loudly, not bothering to hide her annoyance, and attempts to calm herself down from her thoughts. Something that was supposed to be so beautiful has gone downhill so fast; she’s never missed home as much as now. Maybe instead, once she gets home, she’ll read up some more about sailing, study more on shipbuilding, and she’ll be able to construct her own boat with an all-female crew. 

Oh, how she longs to be on her own—but, for now, she’ll keep these men on their toes with her rebellion and, what Henry calls, emotional outbursts. 

In order to get some decent amount of rest, she closes her eyes, listening closely to the waters. She can see the pier once more, with its beautiful horizon and Asta by her side. She sees the ocean and its never-ending waves—she sees the opportunity to explore. And with that, she finally sleeps. 

On the other side of the ship, a small bash for the captains is taking place. Jonghyun and Junyoung wanted to celebrate a full successful week of sailing. So, they gathered some of their most trusted crew members for a couple of drinks. They all came together at the stern near the starboard; the captains figured the open air would be better than one of the stuffy cabins. 

The stars are out, light wind blew, and the waters rocks the boat at a calm pace. There are chairs set up for them to rest their aching feet and a bunch of drinks spread out for them to grab. It’s relatively calm, each chatting away about this and that. However, one sailor from the group spots the thunder clouds rolling in from the distance; it’s coming slowly, but surely. 

“Oh, shit,” Roy says. “That storm’s comin’ in soon.” 

“How bad is it?” Jonghyun manages to ask, feeling a bit tipsy from the drinks. 

Junyoung waves it off, clearly drunk. “Let it come, it’s Sunmi’s goddamn fault anyways.” 

“Yeah,” Hyunsuk says. “Who the hell let her on anyways? That girl isn’t good for anything but bashing ears.” 

Eddy laughs, then speaks. “Capt’n here probably wanted a quick route.” He takes another sip of his whiskey. “He’s fast, but she ain’t easy.” 

Jonghyun frowns, nearly throwing an empty bottle at him, feeling the sting of being rejected once more. Who knew this woman would cause so much trouble for them? 

Junyoung laughs along with Eddy. “He isn’t wrong.” He looks over at Jonghyun. “This is what happens when a woman gets involved. Everything goes wrong.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Jonghyun says, with a groan. “Jesus, this is harder than I thought.” 

“You talking about her or your dick?” 

Everyone laughs and this time Henry does throw something, but it’s an empty beer can that can do no physical harm. Jonghyun misses entirely, the can is flung into the ocean with a soft plop. Junyoung finishes his drink at that time, tossing it into the water as well. 

The other guys start to toss their empty glasses and cans into the water as well, laughing as if it’s the most hilarious thing they’ve ever seen. However, their laughter is cut short as they spot the storm rolling closer, lightning flashing against the dark sky and harsh thunder claps following afterwards. 

“We’re fucked,” Roy says. 

The rest of the boys sigh, but it’s Jonghyun who speaks up. “This is all her fault.” 

Junyoung’s eyebrows furrow. “You’re right.” 

“It’s because we have a woman on board,” Roy says. “The seas are upset.”

“We were fine before,” Eddy says. “Now, she causes a ruckus and now, a storm’s coming.” 

Junyoung turns to Jonghyun. “So, Captain. What are you going to do about it?” 

Captain Park smirks.

Not long after, Junyoung sneaks into Sunmi’s room with a few shipmates. They move in a quick-paced manner at his order. 

“Tape her damned mouth shut, then get her legs,” Junyoung whisper-shouts. “We need her out of here.” 

Hyunsuk wraps the rope around her ankles, tugging it harshly against her skin. Roy grabs her wrists, tying them together as well as her elbows. As the rope begins to burn against her skin, she wakes up at once. Started at the intruders, she tries to shout, only to be muffled by the duct tape wrapped securely around her mouth. She isn’t able to make out who was who due to the dark, but she is able to recognize the asswipe who’s been after her since day one. 

Getting closer to her face, Junyoung smirks at her. “Sorry sweetheart. Captain’s orders.” 

With her eyes growing wide, she finally realizes how much of a candy ass Jonghyun is, getting others to do his dirty work. She attempts to fight them off, but seeing as they’ve decided to gang up against her, she starts to tear up. She thinks about her family, Yubin, and the dreams that’ll never be accomplished—all because of some stupid men and their stupid pride and their misogynistic, androcentricism views. 

Even with her struggling against them, they successfully move her from her cabin to the edge of the ship. The waters got rougher, splashing harshly against Sunrise—the winds blow more viciously, dark clouds roll closer as each moment passes and the lightning flashes behind them. 

Junyoung steps back as the man of the house has finally arrived. With those black boots thudding against the wood, Jonghyun stands proud and tall, with another shiny, slimy smile as he looks down at her. 

“Sunmi,” he says. “You should have just stayed in your place. Maybe then, neither of us would have to be put in this situation.” 

She holds her head high, refusing to show an ounce of fear for this coward. She would have given him a couple of choice words if it weren’t for the tape. 

He shifts his weight, placing his hands on his belt loops, before moving uncomfortably close to her. “Oh, doll. Such a waste of a pretty face.” He looks up to the other shipmates and nods at them. “You know what to do.” 

He and Junyoung walk off without another word and they throw her off. She hits the water immediately, her body breaking through the top layer with the sound of a smack. As she sinks further into the depths of the Atlantic, she wiggles in an attempt to get the ropes off. But no such luck occurs as she moves her body along, trying to fight the current. She continues to struggle; the ropes continuing to burn against her skin and the current pushing her left and right. She wants to scream and cry for help that she knows won’t come. 

She begins to give up; her body feels tired from the fight—her eyes begin to close and her lungs quickly fill up with water. She can no longer breathe; she can feel her heart beginning to slow down and she accepts her death, praying it’s as painless as possible. She has suffered enough. 

Just when all hope seems lost, a bright light shines down on her. The water around her swirls, as if she’s the eye of a hurricane. From her peripheral vision, she can see different colors spinning around her—as if it’s protecting her. Her arms are freed, but aqua-purple blended colored scales shimmer against her skin to replace the rope burns. 

Her eyes widen from the sudden colors appearing onto her skin. Her ankles remain locked together, but newfound finds replace her feet and her legs glow with that same bright light, as her skin becomes layered with the same colored scales from her arms. Her neck lines split, allowing her to breathe easily in the water. Her nails grow quickly and are sharpened to a point, whereas more teeth grows in, as if to feed on flesh. 

Even as she fully transforms, the water continues to circle around her and the hurricane only grows stronger. 

She’s confused. She doesn’t understand what’s happening to her own body—it feels new and foreign, yet it feels so right. Everything becomes clear; the water continues the ongoing storm, but the colors have stopped and she can see the figures of others. Her eyes grow even wider: there are others who are just like her. The mermaids surrounding her don’t say anything; they’re perfectly still. She locks her eyes on the one in front of her. That’s when she hears it—a voice that isn’t her own telling her: you must go. 

Amidst all of this, Sunrise isn’t far off from where they dropped her, evidently getting caught in the tropical cyclone—moving gradually closer to the center. Some shipmates have been tossed off from the winds, while others have drowned from trying to escape. With a dozen already dead men, Jonghyun and Junyoung remain alive, but not for long. Both are still onboard with a death grip on the ship and screaming out of desperation for some god to help them. 

Sunmi arises from the water, cackling as she sees the ship hurtling towards her direction—with her teeth bared, nails ready to stab, and her revenge as encouragement. Even with the storm, she couldn’t see anything but the rage that blinds her. The fire in her eyes say it all: they are going to pay. 

[paullicino]

The Tower

The first time I saw the tower was from the highway. I don’t judge distances so well, but it must’ve been less than a mile away.

We were speeding off to some hellish department store or other, the sort that stock everything without any of it being any good, because Catherine wanted to bring popcorn to the party we were crashing.

The highway offers views of very little between concrete overpasses and pro-life billboards, because it cuts into the hills like an asphalt ravine. There isn’t exactly scenery along that route, either. It’s all condos or woodland still petrified by the winter.

The party was bad. Catherine and I dug ourselves into one corner of an apartment that we could tell hadn’t been properly cleaned for over a year and I sneezed over and over. It was the sort of place where you find the table has just been cleared, but there’s layers of dust or grime under the furniture, behind the television or around the toilet. Catherine really wanted to go because she had a serious crush on the woman who lived there, or did until she ran her finger across a shelf and showed me what it had collected.

The second time I saw the tower, I asked about it. We weren’t taking the same route, but we were headed about the same way, off to collect some secondhand furniture I’d offered to help load. Catherine said it was an old lookout tower, something for visitors to scale, but I couldn’t imagine what it would look over. It barely topped the trees around it and would only offer views of somnambulant suburbia. It was only as we were driving back the other way that I realised we’d probably been along a few of these roads many times over. I asked why we’d not seen it more but Catherine shrugged and said that her eyes were always on the road anyway. I tried looking past her during what I thought was the right part of the journey, but a thick fog was settling and the most I got to see was an ad telling me how large a foetus was after six weeks.

I wasn’t from around there, but being on the road is good for someone who writes travelogues. “Find curious nuggets of local history while you’re out there,” my agent had said. His voice crackled on the phone like he was broadcasting through an old time radio.

I asked Dani about it. She’s lived in that town all her life and knowing everything about the area is a point of pride for her. She said it might well have been part of the old state park or fairground or something. She said the place had been a huge deal when she was young, that Goldwater had visited it at some point, but that it closed sometime in the early eighties. A bunch of similar things had opened out of town and they were all bigger and better. Then, a gang of kids had broken in and burned the whole place down a few years later, leaving only the tower standing.

I said that the tower didn’t look fire damaged to me, but I suppose it must have been lucky. Dani mentioned that there’d been one of those classic, entirely wooden roller coasters close by and that there’s absolutely no trace of it now.

I couldn’t imagine anything catching light in that place. I’d watched winter crawl on like an alabaster purgatory, to eventually be replaced by an eternally dribbling, gurgling thaw. The overwhelming sense that you get from this place is of dampness.

--

It was Tom who confirmed for me where the tower stood, on a slight rise on the edge of where the interstate meets the new route into town. It’s dead land nowhere near anything any more, unless you count a water treatment facility as interesting. It would also explain why it’s only visible from certain approaches, thanks to several dips in the highway and the height of the shivering trees.

I loved the roof of the thing. It was the kind of mottled green that copper turns when you drench it in time. When we were finally passing by once more, I tried to point this out, but Catherine was keeping her eyes simultaneously on a tailgater and a truck that wouldn’t stay in its lane. I took a picture, knowing I only had about a fortnight left in town, but it came out blurry and streaked, all greys merged together.

Then I got caught up in this damn public reading thing and my life become some real stupid bullshit. The faculty couldn’t work out first what time of day my reading was, even what days of the week I should be there. Then some crow-voiced man from the accounting department told me they weren’t sure if the university could pay foreigners or pay into foreign bank accounts. All of this after they booked me as one of the festival headliners.

The literary festival was also where I met Gary. I have a particular prejudice against anyone called Gary, on account of their being called Gary, and this man further justified that. He began the final day’s party (which he constantly referred to as a soiree) with a homophobic opener, then started disparaging travel writers, before arguing with a bunch of us on very petty points of style. He was desperate for me to write a blurb or a quotation for his next book and he would not leave me alone.

He was also local, and when he spoke on how deindustrialisation had radically altered the town, I thought to use all the energy he was hurling at me to find out something about the tower.

He erupted, babbling about some gothic or neo-gothic thing, something probably built before the First World War, and how terrific it was, before I could properly explain what I’d seen and where. He told me I was referring to the old water tower and then insisted that there was a Victorian folly on the spot that I described. Yes, it was a wonderful civic curio, he said, maybe his favourite, but it was dilapidated and all but cut off from any kind of public access now.

I wasn’t convinced and this produced more offence than I expected. He began a flustered effort to find photos to show me, but it was fruitless. At the same time, I tried to find anything that would show what I was talking about, but made no progress either, even when I was able to get some old photos of the state park. His persistence combined with my rapidly-waning patience spoiled what was supposed to be an enjoyable end to the festival and by the close of the evening I was convinced that Gary and I truly hated each other. Still, as the taxis lined up outside, I saw him framed in the faculty doorway, saluting me with a highball in one hand.

“I’ll call you for that blurb, yeah?”

--

I was working in a neighbourhood café when I saw it again. It was my last day in town and the first clear day in a month, the kind of day where you can see for miles.  I’d looked up from my proofs and there it was, as tiny and meek and distinct as a baby’s toenail. Its green top crested the trees and its off-white body, narrow and cylindrical, made it a faux fairytale thing teleported from a foreign, fantasy land.

I worked for a while longer before taking a walk. I went a few blocks in the direction of the tower, but the incline of the street and a few hulking warehouse conversions meant I lost all sight of it very quickly. I tried a couple of parallel streets, but they didn’t offer quite the right perspective. Then, Gary called.

“I read your essay on Anchorage,” he said. “It’s great, except I’m not sure your gold rush dates are right. Actually, a gold rush might not be the right description of it.”

He sounded as didactic as his critiques of Woolfe. “I’m looking at the tower right now,” I lied. “It’s green and white.”

“I’m not sure what that is,” he said. “Maybe it’s the top of the false facade on that Mexican restaurant? I wanted to talk about that blurb.”

“It’s definitely by the water treatment plant.”

“The tower is stone, square and grey,” Gary said. “It wasn’t part of the fair. They incorporated it into the grounds as they built around it, later. Did you know that a bunch of kids tried to burn it down? Why would you try to burn down a stone tower?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. It was cold, the sky had clouded and drizzle was beginning to fall.

--

“I don’t know what that is,” said Tom, when he met me for a beer later. “Gary is talking about some sort of crumbling Victorian thing, sure, which is or was part of some rich dude’s estate. But I don’t know any green tower.”

“White.”

“The state park fair thing is brown. A sort of sandy brown and half wood, half stucco. I don’t know what it is that you’ve seen, but yeah, that guy is full of crap. Did you ask Dani about it? Hey, we can drive round there now if you want, but you won’t see anything in the dark. Unless you want me to park on the highway and then have us climb the fence into the sewage place.”

“It’s okay, I’m flying out tonight.”

“I broke into a power substation once. That was fun.”

“What happened?”

“I got arrested.”

--

Catherine gave me a ride to the airport and a surprise story to go with it. She said she had been dating the untidy apartment woman “against my gut’s better judgement.” Rene, her name was, and she designed magazines. Catherine had started dating her and then she’d almost immediately stopped dating her. It beat any gossip I had.

“That woman’s insecurities are a rudder that steer her away from facing anything. I could see her piloting us both into the rocks of ruin because she was so damn scared, right off the bat.”

I said that someone else’s insecurities are a reef that tears out your keel before you even get to the obvious rocks anyway, before telling her that she should hurry up and finish her damn novel so that Gary and I could call up and pester her for blurbs. Then, Gary called again to ask for his blurb and Catherine damn near died from trying to laugh silently while keeping the car on the road.

“I’ve found your tower,” he said, in that rolling cadence that rarely gave any room for reply. “And once I get a bit closer, I’m going to send you a photo. Then will you send me a blurb?”

“Where are you?”

“I went through an old pedestrian underpass. You wouldn’t know it. So, will you?”

“I’m getting on a plane, Gary,” I said. Shortly after, I got on a plane.

I landed and crawled into a taxi and the book tour that everyone else was excited about started.

--

I slept in a motel that smelled like sour milk, missed my alarm and Catherine woke me with a call at ten the next day.

“Gary’s dead,” she said.

She told me he’d been found at the water treatment place, face-down in the middle of open ground. His phone was in one hand, half-smashed, and the first responders on the scene said it looked like he’d fallen from a great height. She said that everyone at the faculty was very sad. I sat on the end of my bed and failed to invent a good excuse to avoid the day’s signing.

I got a text from Gary a few days later, probably as someone switched his phone back on to examine it. It was a picture message that my phone said was corrupted. The officer who called to clear up some details told me not to worry about it. He asked me lots of things I didn’t know about Gary’s agent. He said there was no tower in the area, but he knew a steeple nearby that had long outlasted its church.

I’ve been driven around to readings and signings the last few days. The weather has thickened and they say it’s unseasonably cold. I’m waiting for everything to hurry up.

I saw the tower from the road again today. I’m two states south.

This work was funded entirely by my supporters on Patreon. If you enjoyed it, please consider supporting me there and helping me create even more things like this. My Patreon also features a wealth of additional exclusive writing, diary entries and travelogues!

[sweetinfires-blog]

The Doctor’s Papillon

Papillon : (pap·il·lon) [French pa-pee-yawn] Butterfly

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Minty) ft. Park Jimin

Summary: A butterfly with freshly sprouted wings makes her way into a foreign land alone. Although her emerald wings are small, she ripples disarray with each flutter. Min Yoongi slowly falls for her feeble beauty and decides to keep this precious papillon for himself. But what happens her wings are coated with poison?

Genre: Angst, Smut, Gang!AU, 

Nagoya, Japan

3:18 AM

The scent of the last remaining cherry blossoms clinging to their own lengthy branches drifted into the eventide. The waters of Yamazaki River mimicked the appearance of silk. A bright moon served as the only light source guiding a young woman along the stream.

Her heels landed rhythmically against the pavement. She wore a long, black raincoat with the label VETEMENTS across her back. The locks of her hair melted from her head forming an ash gray to pastel, icy blue gradient. With both her hands in her raincoat pocket, the young girl hummed a sweet tone that eventually lead her to break out into a soft voice.

“. . . Is it true？ is it true？You, you…

焦がれて怖くなる  I’m getting scared

Untrue. . . Untrue. . . 

You, you, you…

そばにいてずっと Always by your side

僕の為ずっと For me forever

遠くなりそうで　逃げそうで

As if you’re getting further away, As if you’ll run away

怖い位、辛い Scary place, Painful

このままずっと Just like this

時間よ止まって… Please stop time . . .

君が離れて You’re getting further away

恋しくて I’m longing for you

怖い位、辛い  Scary place, Painful

Butterfly, like a Butterfly . . .

舞うButterfly … Butterflyの様” Dancing butterfly . . .  As a butterfly

As she sang softly to herself, she brought out a pair of bloodstained, black rimmed spectacles from the pocket of her raincoat. Her petite hands gripped the glasses to such an extent, a crack began to form. She wiped the blood across the glass with her thumb and smiled to herself revealing a glint in her light, iridescent eyes.

VVVVT. VVVVT. *bell chime*

Suddenly, a text message interrupts her private lullaby.

[New Message]

3:26 AM

Father Ghilbi: Get ready for departure.

Her lips pursed. It’s time. She quickly dialed a number and stated her location. The girl stopped to look back before proceeding up the steps away from the river. In the distance, a dark, blackened object laid still on the cold pavement. Stemming from it was a pool of crimson blood, trickling across the ground and soon landing into the pristine waters of the Yamazaki River.

The last few cherry blossoms of the season feathered through the wind, landing in a young man’s blood. The woman now nowhere in sight.

Mapu-Gu, Seoul, South Korea

At the same moment in a private club within Seoul, a single blond male seemed to be enjoying the company of many risque ladies along with his brothers. The private room within the club was almost entirely furnished in velvet indigo from the walls to furniture. Smoke from cigars in ashtrays clouded one’s sight whilst the many bottles and glasses of alcohol clouded one’s judgement.

“Yah, Min Yoongi,” a deep, clout voice called out. “Since it’s your last night as an active brother, don’t you think you owe your boss of 8 or so years some sort of commemoration?” The boss’s request hushed the other members of the group, drawing attention to the man in question.

“Ah...Of course, hyung-nim.” The blonde male signaled the exotic stripper off his lap and proceeded forward. Although he addressed the man as hyung-nim, boss, or blood brother, he realized he began to hate it. Hating the fact he called someone younger of higher authority, hating the countless ‘brothers’ he lost over their territorial disputes, slowly despising and realizing the apathy of the countless drug deals, meaningless sex, desire for power, and the fight for status.

Yoongi’s fellow brothers followed him with their eyes as he made his way lethargically across the room. His walk was slow in pace, feet partly dragging along the velvet floors with one hand in his pocket and the other carding through his platinum hair.

Taking a seat next to his boss of nearly 10 years, Yoongi relaxed into the couch and rested his head back against the wall. “So, what would my dear boss like from me this glorious evening?” He asked, cocking one eyebrow up as he rolled his head to look at his brother.

The man smiled wryly at his brother’s attempt of affection revealing deep dimples on both sides of his cheeks. “Oh come on, Yoongi-hyung. You don’t have to act like that. Addressing me as boss, hyung-nim, and what not.” He laughed slightly and leaned forward, placing his elbows on their respective knees.

“Namjoon,” Yoongi called out. “Why do you still do this? The blood brother know ju-” *glass breaks* and muffled arguments carry across the room into Namjoon’s ears.Yoongi sighed out. He was slowly tapping his fingers across his right thigh, a habit he grew into since discovering his love for piano.

The tan skinned man aggressively kicks the table in front of him, occupied with drugs, cash, and alcoholic beverages.

“Everyone. Out. Yoongi. You stay.”

At his command the busy club room emptied out in mere seconds.

“You will be the first member to live as a non active gang member within Bangtan,” Namjoon started as he lit a cigar not once looking at Yoongi once the room left the two brothers in solitude. “Be grateful that you didn’t have to die for us, nor that we kill you off right here and now before you get to attempt this ‘normal’ life you oh so wish for.” Joon’s eyes narrowed as he stared off into the distance.

“You may be my brother by oath, and you always will be, but don’t question my life choices.” Joon’s lips pursed.

Yoongi halted his fingers from ghosting down across his thigh. A small curse escaped his lips.

“Joon.” Yoongi deadpanned. “We can’t live like this forever.” He then stood up and made his way to the table with Namjoon’s eyes trailing him as he slowly drew out a long drag from his cigar. Yoongi stopped in front of the table full of alcohol, grabbed a large crystal Mcallan M Whiskey bottle and poured himself and Joon a glass.

Handing the drink back to his brother, Yoongi announced, “Here is your commemoration, brother.” He downed the glass in one swift motion before Namjoon could even bring the glass to his lips. “I love you, but you know you can’t keep doing this.” With that, Min Yoongi left the private room, making his way past the heavily populated private club and out its doors. With the fresh air hitting his pale face, Yoongi was now no longer part of Bangtan.

4 O’Clock

Incheon International Airport

A private jet made its landing. The inside so luxurious, even the Queen of England would possibly fail to accompany such a scene. Gold outlined the seats, white marble accented the table tops and desk of the grandeur setting.

Stepping out towards the steps that descended onto the runway, a male made his way down. His skin glowed as if it has been kissed by the sun. His eyes a very light viridian blue, unseen in many asians. Blonde hair reflected the bright lights from the plane’s runway mimicking a golden touch by Midas himself.

His black velvet blazer was intricately embroidered with gold tatting. The rounded silk lapels gave contrast to the dominant texture and a certain shine enhancing his majestic presence. 

In the distance stood a tall man wearing a maroon suit and a refreshing smile amongst 10 or so other men in black suits behind him. His smile grew wider at the golden blonde haired man making his way towards them.

“Welcome back, boss!” Exclaimed the handsome man in maroon. He met his boss halfway with open arms, gesturing the intimate greeting. “Glad you’re safe, Taehyung.”

Kim Taehyung. Kim. A dominate surname amongst the Korean Peninsula. Carrying the meaning of gold or iron, this man also carried the reputation of Korea’s longest running gang. His family was exceptionally renowned for carrying a mutant gene of light colored blue green eyes.

Taehyung smiled at his right hand man, revealing a wide, box-like smile. “And how is MIDAS holding up, Bogum?”

MIDAS, otherwise known as the gang passed down from generation to generation within his family along with its riches, status, and power.

“...Tae, I hope you enjoyed your vacation. We have a few visitors lurking amongst our turf.”

The boss flashed a suggestive grin, “Let’s go welcome these visitors,” he urged as he took his seat in his matte gray GranTurismo MC Centennial Edition Convertible. Taehyung started his ignition and looked to his right hand man  “Shall we?” He winked over at Bogum and pressed down on the accelerator.

Mapu-Gu, Seoul, South Korea

4:23AM

Club Lux

Some of the the Bangtan brothers shifted their way from the private club into a more public scene. The bass of the music vibrated through the young bloods as the neon lights highlighted their sinful night. Many hands were roaming another’s body, exploring the depths of the other while dancing. Sheen sweat glistened over the visible skin, causing a glow and produced an enticing view.

Many of the brothers let their guards down, enjoying their youth and nightlife. Joon, the head of all these men, simply watched his fellows on the dance floor as he sat with a few higher ranked blood brothers on the second floor VIP section. He sat with his legs crossed with one arm cradling the thin waist of yet another drunken beauty. Her head lazily rested amongst the tanned, toned, and slightly exposed chest of the boss. OH YUM.

Joon was casually drinking his beer when he noticed yet another argument conjuring amongst his men on the dance floor. His eyes narrowed as he took another swig from his beer, still staring intently at the now growing brawl forming dead center of the dance floor. Almost instantly, Namjoon and all the other blood brothers stood at alert.

The golden blonde hair, shone through the dim lighting of the club, capturing all eyes within his presence.

“That fucking wannabe king, Kim Taehyung.” Namjoon gritted as he signaled the brother behind him to go down and scope the chaos unfolding on the first floor.

As if cued, Taehyung lifted his head exposing his smug demeanor and locked eyes with his rival, Namjoon. The two notorious gang leaders stared deep into each other’s eyes for a moment as if time stood still. Neither of the men moved a single inch as chaos engulfed the once spry night club.

Nagoya, Japan

6:14AM

Muffled sounds of the showerhead running filled the entirety of a white studio apartment. Two skylights allowed the morning rays to peak through the serene room. Dust particles float through the sunlight imitating the mystical glister of fairy dust and landing atop the beige cloud-like blankets scrunched on the queen sized bed.

A sudden twist of a knob is heard, shutting down the running water. The same young lady seen peacefully strolling underneath the cherry blossoms takes a step out of her bathroom. She wears a luxurious, pure white bathrobe with her still wet hair. The droplets landing on the wood floor every step of the way as she walks up the stairs beside her bed.

She ran her fingers through her hair, lingering near the ends of her pale blue strands and twirling them around her index finger. Scanning her clothing rack, she grabbed a few articles and pulled out a chrome silver suitcase she kept on the side.

After neatly packing away her clothes and other necessities, the tired girl lazily slipped out of her bathrobe and crawled into the soft comfort of her bed.

9:46AM

A rhythmic knocking is heard outside the young girl’s door of her studio apartment. The girl was slowly stirring awake as the knocking got louder as minutes went by.

“Open up~ I have Starbucks for you!” The voice from the other side of the door exclaims. It was a peculiar male voice that rang through the studio. After registering the voice, the beauty finally awoke rushing to grab a robe and open the door.

“Daddy!” Her voice was almost as sweet as her appearance; Soft but clear as a summer’s day.

“Good morning, honey,” the handsome man whispered against his daughter’s forehead taking her into a warm embrace. “I have my peppermint’s favorite soy latte to start her day!” His daughter’s smile widened after hearing her favorite nickname. The two made their way to a small table in her loft, sitting across from each other.

“What brings you around, pops?” She asked, propping one elbow on the table to rest her chin in. The man leaned across the table to place a small kiss on his daughter’s cheek. “Can’t his father come by to see his sweet angel?” He asked slightly chuckling against her cheeks. She blushed at her “father’s” sweet remark.

To any onlooker, this scene would be like any pair of lovers having a sweet morning considering her so-called father only looked a few years older in appearance. In reality, the two are a father and daughter pair by legality; They were not related by blood.

Ninomiya Kazunari. The single father who adopted a child at the ripe age of 26. A member of Arashi Go (五), the top five investors and richest males in all of Japan. The reasons he adopted a girl seemingly 10 years younger than himself are not known to the public. He was entrusted to care for a 16 year old girl who knew nothing but the brutalities of the world.

The two enjoyed the rest of their hour together catching up on each other’s lives until Nino noticed the luggage at the top of her stairs. He glanced back between the luggage and his daughter. She realizes by the lack of enthusiasm shown previously that her father was beginning to space out from their conversation.

“...and after binge watching it, I finally- … Daddy?” The soft call brought him out from his daze. Her calls for him would draw his attention to her no matter the situation as long as they came from her soft, velvety voice.

“Oh, uh.. Sorry, Minty, I just …” he started as he glanced back at the luggage. “I just noticed something is all.” He gently placed a hand on hers slowly swiping a thumb across her knuckles.

Finally, the name of the petite angel was revealed. Minty. Legal name: Ninomiya Minty. A name befitting her pale skin, dainty physique, bright viridescent eyes, and silver blue ombre hair.

“So, you’re finally being entrusted overseas?” Nino asked attempting to show a supportive smile but still avoiding direct eye contact. You followed his eyes to the direction atop the stairs spotting the chrome luggage you had previously packed. A pang shot through your heart realizing the incoming separation between you and your only loving family member.

“Ah, that..” you began, but the slight lump in your throat began to form and tense up.

Nino finally faced you with another bitter sweet smile on his face.

“He let me know.” Nino sighed. He got up from his seat and bent down kneeling in front of you as you sat still at the small table. He took your delicate hands in his own surrounding it with his warmth. 

“Don’t worry about a proper explanation. Actually, don’t even worry about a goodbye or parting.” Tears slowly built up at the words goodbye. Trying hard to blink the tears away you brought your head up avoiding looking down at your father of nearly 10 years.

Nino slowly reached up to cup your right cheek in his hands and guided you to look down into his eyes. Once you delve into his deep brown eyes, drops of tears began to roll down your cheeks. Nino gently brushed the tears away with his thumb but to no avail as you wore your heart along you sleeves.

“I - I just wish I was able to tell you without … without having it to be so rushed,” you croaked through the lump in your throat sniffling for air. Your dear father smiled at the attempt and brought you into his arms into an embrace.

“We all prepared for this, my love. No need to fret over timing, a proper explanation, or anything else. This was to come, and we should be happy you are finally able to fulfill your duties,” he whispered into your hair as you rested your head in the crook of his neck. Nino stroked your hair with such care in attempts to calm you down. All you could do was nod in response as your tears seeped through his white button up.

“I actually came here to ask if it was okay to see my peppermint off safely,” he explained, still brushing his fingers through your hair. You couldn’t talk as you became more emotional after hearing your dear nickname, so you simply nodded again as you gripped tighter onto his shirt.

“Thank you. I love you,” was the last thing he said as he kissed peppered kisses from you right temple, furrowed brows, crinkled nose, tear stained cheeks, and dangerously close to the corner of your lips plump lips.

“Now, it’s time for you to spread your own wings, isn’t?”

Part 2

[mykingjon]

Winter

*DISCLAIMER: Posting this as a thank you for my 700 followers, love you guys! A prologue and chapter 1 of my multi-chapter Dicksa fic. The idea was created and submitted by my queen @bitchyhollow.💖Special thanks goes to @joenerysiseverything, who told me to post this.💖 I will post the rest of the chapters if you guys will be interested in it! I also take requests of all GoT pairings.*

Prologue: Fire and Blood

Dickon Tarly would have never thought he would see a dragon in his life.

Not so long ago, he was sitting at the dinner table in the main hall of Horn Hill, his home. When his brother spoke of the White Walkers, he laughed heartily, certain he’s seen everything, certain nothing can surprise him, or force him to change his perception of the world. He was the heir to his father’s lands, his life was peaceful and quiet. There was no danger to his future.

Until her.

When he’s seen Daenerys Targaryen mounted on a dragon, he could not believe his own eyes. He finally realized that there were wonders he had yet to see in his life, after all. That is, if he was to survive the war two Queen were waging. At that very moment, it seemed highly unlikely.

He tried his best to gather courage, or whatever has been left of it. He even saved Jaime Lannister’s life during an uneven battle, when a Dothraki rider charged at the maimed lion. I could not let him die. That was not the fair fight. That was not how the honorable knight would act, nor the honorable leader. The Dothraki and their Queen know nothing about honor.

But did he know anything about honor now? He killed the men he used to hunt with, the people he knew his whole life, in the name of the Queen his family didn’t truly support, let alone believe in. He was not certain if there was a right side to choose in this war, but somehow, choosing Cersei Lannister still felt wrong to him.  

All he could do now was die honorably, if he could not live that way. The Dragon Queen would not have him begging for his life, not now, not ever. The members of house Tarly were not cowards, or oathbreakers. At least that’s what Father has been telling me my entire life, until we broke faith with house Tyrell, the liege lord we served for hundreds of years.

He shut his eyes tightly and sighed heavily. He was confused and exhausted, more than he’s ever been before, yet he forced himself to move forward, in the direction the Dothraki chose fit. Finally, the group of surviving soldiers reached the place where the Targaryen Queen was standing, as well as her Lannister Hand. The dragon was sat on the hill nearby, deadly, looking at all present and none of them at the same time. Dickon wanted to lay down and rest, forget everything he’s seen, all the shouts he heard when dragonfire burned people alive, all the pleading words of the Tyrell soldiers he heard when they took Highgarden. Yet, he forced himself to straighten up. He shifted his eyes so he could look at Daenerys Targaryen, as she began to speak.

“I know what Cersei has told you”, she began. “That I’ve come to destroy your cities, murder you and orphan your children.”

Dickon took a deep breath. Not only Cersei said so. My father as well, and most of the Southern lords. They even call her a foreign whore.

“That’s Cersei Lannister, not me. I’m not here to murder. All I want to destroy is the wheel that has rolled over rich and poor, to the benefit of no one but the Cersei Lannisters of the world”, she said louder, in a confident manner, yet, she seemed stern.

“I give you a choice”, she added. “Bend the knee and join me. Together, we will leave the world better than we found it. Or refuse, and die.”

Dickon felt hair stand up on his neck at her final sentence. He knew his Father well enough. He would never break another promise he gave, he’d sooner die. And he will. We both will. It’s over. He saw soldiers bow down to the young Queen, yet he stood tall with his father beside him, even when the dragon roared impatiently. He felt a lump grow in his throat when Daenerys Targaryen looked at Randyll Tarly.

“Step forward, my lord”, she said to him, and there was almost kindness in her voice. Dickon frowned. A strange woman.

When his Father obeyed her wish, she spoke again. “You will not kneel?”

“I already have a Queen”, Randyll Tarly answered. Dickon felt his heart sink. Although Tyrion Lannister tried to persuade his Father into saving his life, he remained unmoved. He even refused the black. When the Dothraki began walking in his direction to yank him to his own execution, Dickon couldn’t stand in one place any longer. He felt his feet moving forward, again.

“You will have to kill me, too”, he declared, his eyes set on the ground he was walking on.

“Step back, and shut your mouth”, his Father hissed.

“Who are you?” Daenerys Targaryen asked him, no sign of previous kindness in her voice. The sudden harshness forced Dickon to gaze at her. In this moment, she seemed as lethal as her dragon.

“A stupid boy”, Randyll Tarly replied, annoyed, breaking away from the clasp of the Dothraki.

“I’m Dickon Tarly. Son of Randyll Tarly”, he answered, gazing at his Father briefly, and then shifting his eyes to look at the Queen again.

“Your Grace”, he heard Tyrion Lannister say. “Nothing scraps bold motions from a man’s head like a few weeks in the dark cell.”

Daenerys Targaryen seemed to think about the sense of her Hand’s words for a couple of seconds. “Very well”, she gave him, at last. “We shall take Dickon Tarly to the cells of Winterfell. The King in the North had said it’s freezing there already, and I’m sure he won’t mind if we take the opportunity to ensure the loyalty of house Tarly.”

Tyrion didn’t seem entirely pleased, but relief washed over his face nonetheless.

“Lord Randyll Tarly”, Daenerys exclaimed. “I, Daenerys of house Targaryen, First of my name, sentence you to die.”

His father looked at him one last time. He smiled slightly, and nodded at him, clearly content that he won’t suffer the same fate. Dickon wanted to run to him, but he stood there, paralyzed.

“Dracarys.”

He didn’t hear himself shout, nor he felt the ground he hit after he saw the ashes that were left of his father. There was only darkness, blood, and cold.

Sansa I: The prisoner

Sansa Stark could not quite believe the words she just read. She shook her head, feeling enraged. Maester Wolkan frowned slightly, worry in his eyes.

“My Lady”, he began silently, “Is His Grace alright?”

Sansa raised from her chair in a one swift move. Who does she think she is? She sighed heavily, and nodded once, forcing herself to smile softly at the man in front of her.

“He is”, she confirmed. Maester seemed delighted about the news at first. Then, he tilted his head, waiting patiently for a logical explanation of his Lady’s mood.

“There is a prisoner on the way to Winterfell. He might be there anytime soon, the raven was sent particularly late”, she showed a scroll to Wolkan, not hiding her displeasure any longer. Even the old man, who was always silent and shy, seemed to be irritated.

“This is not the prisoner of house Stark”, he exclaimed, and then his cheeks grew red in an instant. “Forgive me, my Lady, I didn’t mean to...”

“No. It’s alright. I think the same”, she assured him, feeling her jaw clench. “But Jon is our King. He is working hard to ensure Daenerys joins us in the war against the dead. I suppose that’s... understandable”, she muttered, trying hard to sound convinced of her own words. Maester just nodded once.

“Yes, you’re right, my Lady”, he said, visibly hiding his doubts as well. “This is a small price to pay for the lives of the thousands”, he added, more confident in his King’s judgement now.

Sansa exhaled slowly, fixated on controlling her breathing. “Indeed. I imagine it must not be an easy task, to negotiate with someone who uses the cells of other rulers to lock their prisoners, only so they suffer more”, she grimaced. To think Jon is only writing good things of her, as in that she gave him resources to mine dragonglass. This Queen is still a mystery for us all, perhaps even herself.

Wolkan only gave her a slight smile. “I will make sure everything’s ready, my Lady.”

Sansa nodded once. “Thank you. Now, if you will excuse me, Maester, I should go to dine with my family, I’m quite late already as it is”, she exclaimed and went out of her chambers towards the Main Hall, where she was meeting for the meals with Bran and Arya ever since they’ve arrived. The corners of her mouth slid upwards at the thought. For so many years, she’s been dreaming of seeing any of them. Now, they were home, and no matter how different they all became on their long way to Winterfell, they would still protect each other at the cost of their lives. Or at least, that was what she hoped for.

When she entered the Main Hall, the two of her siblings were already seated by the table. “I’m sorry”, she mumbled quickly. “I received strange news.”

Arya raised her eyebrows while ferociously biting her food. “What news?”, she asked, intrigued.

Bran did not seem to share her surprise. “Dickon Tarly is on the way to Winterfell. He’s Daenerys Targaryen’s prisoner.”

Sansa sat down beside Arya, her muscles tense. “That’s true. Daenerys thought that he would have a hard time to hold onto his honor in our cold cells. Jon agreed to it.”

Arya stopped eating for a second and leaned closer to her. “She would probably kill Tarly if he didn’t.”

Sansa’s eyes opened slightly wider. “I didn’t even think of it. If he’s lord of Horn Hill, she must have already murdered his father.”

Her sister shifted her gaze to Bran. “They both refused to bend the knee?”

“Yes”, he answered simply, no emotion evident in his voicetone.

Sansa felt something stir inside her stomach. So this Dickon Tarly wanted to die alongside his Father. Stupid, but brave. Sansa still remembered well what a feeling it was, to watch her own Father die. To watch a man who nourished you, raised you, gave you a thousand smiles and showered with kisses when you were a small child still, become a disintegrated corpse, nothing more but a shell of someone you knew your entire life. Had I been given a choice by the Lannisters whether I want to become their prisoner or perish with him, perhaps I’d make the same choice as lord Tarly, after all. Yet, it seems that death was not meant for either of them.

“He’s here”, Bran added with an usual blank expression, snapping Sansa out of her thougths.

The Lady of Winterfell wanted to slam her fists against the table in annoyance, yet she managed to oversee her own impulses. Can I not have a moment of peace and quiet? “I have to go, then. I’m really sorry, we will dine together tomorrow, alright?”

Arya smiled warmly at her. “And the day after that. Go, now. I will take Bran back to his chambers when we finish.”

Sansa just nodded and raised from her chair, increasing her pace when she walked towards the door. In the corridor, she almost bumped into a guard.

“Forgive me, my Lady”, he said, visibly nervous. “Dickon Tarly is at the gate, with some Dothraki men.”

“Yes, I’ve received a raven. We should go”, she began walking again, and the guard followed her closely.

“My lady, this man needs a maester if he is to survive”, the guard confessed, clearly tense.

Sansa stopped in her tracks and turned around to face the man. “Go get Wolkan, quickly! He’s a valuable prisoner!”, she replied, way louder than intended. Gods know what Daenerys Targaryen would do if she heard he died in our custody. The guard gasped and turned around to run in the direction of maester’s chambers, while lady Stark moved along again. Soon, she arrived by the gate. When she saw Dickon Tarly, she felt a breath catch up in her throat. He looked as if he was a couple of minutes away from death, pale, unable to stand without the support of the Dothraki, his hair damp, head hanging down, eyes half-shut, armor covered in ashes, blood on his face. She run to him. “Lord Tarly”, she said to him, trying her best to control her shaking voice. No reaction at all. “My Lord, please stay awake. I’m Sansa Stark of Winterfell. Maester will be there soon, no harm shall come to you under my roof, you have my word. Just please, do not fall asleep.” Still, lord Tarly had not replied in any way. Sansa raised his chin softly with her middle finger, examining his conciousness.

Dickon Tarly shifted his gaze to look at her. Perhaps, once these eyes of his were lively and glistening, but now, the beautiful sapphire blue of his orbits expressed no emotions, except the immense exhaustion.  “Let me die”, he whispered, and Sansa felt something sting her inside of her chest. For some reason, she felt angry at the woman who have put this stranger through so much suffering. He will not suffer the same fate as I did after the Lannisters executed my Father. I must treat him as a guest, or else, I’m no better than Joffrey.

Suddenly, she heard Maester Wolkan’s voice behind her back. “My Lady, the cell is ready, I will see to the pris-“

“No”, she hissed, feeling her wolf blood boil. “Take him to the spare chambers upstairs”, she commanded to the guards standing nearby. They took a step towards the lord of the Horn Hill.

“But, my lady”, the Maester began, “The Dragon Queen-“

“Jon is my King. He said I was to rule the North in his stead until he comes back. She does not get to say where do I take care of the man she almost killed, these are not her lands, nor they will ever be”, she answered, rigid. Wolkan only nodded, and the guards began carrying lord Tarly inside. Sansa turned to glare at the Dothraki riders as a sign that it’s time for them to leave her home, but they were already mounting their horses.

And so, she shifted her feet and began walking inside, swearing to herself on all that was dear to her that she will save this man.

[ablastulasrecipe-blog]

Nanowrimo, Day 4

I missed Day 3, but at least I almost made up for it today...

----

Late at night, Sherlock decides to sneak out of the house. He found out that since he rarely found people outside anyway, it would be best to investigate when the sun was out. At least he didn’t have to deal with the heat. Still, poor visibility meant he couldn’t rely solely on night investigations.

“Huh. Is that…?”

Walking outside, in the town’s main road, Baker St., Sherlock found something he never expected to find in a place or a time like that.

“I can’t believe it! It’s a pelargonium!”

But not just any pelargonium, it was a peppermint-scented pelargonium. An edible plant Sherlock ate in a trip to Africa. A sight was all it took to open memory’s flood gates and Sherlock got back to Africa. The exquisite mixtures of foods, of which he once competed with Watson who could eat a full potjieko of Chakalaka. Something Sherlock regretted doing, as he lost halfway through his food. Not that Watson ate fast or anything, but he had to impress the young woman two tables over who watched with curious eyes, and later that evening gave Watson some wild malvas, a plant whose leaves could be diffused into tea. Not much to either Watson’s tastes or his, but the man still drank more than he should.

It all ended with a broken heart however, as the woman was from another city and had to leave soon after. Their goodbyes were told in the same place where the competition happened, at the scent of the peppermint-scented pelargoniums in Sherlock’s plate. Forever to be reminded as the scent of nostalgia and unrequited love.

“Ah. Good times. It’s simply amazing someone would be able to grow such an exquisite plant, out here of all places! Wish I could talk to whoever did, and maybe buy some, they should make the food here taste a bit better.”

Leaving the plants alone, Sherlock decides to walk a little further before returning, but the plant was indeed the most important thing in his eyes for that night.

Bang bang bang. Yet again the little miss hit the ceiling beneath him. It was time to wake up. “Another lesson? Now? She’s so restless…”. Going downstairs an energetic Lyra awaits him.

-          Hey, we’ll have to go to town soon. – “We?” – So let’s train now.

He had time for a quick lesson, whatever that would be. “I really should make at least a basic plan of what I’m going to teach her. I have no idea what to do.” As they reached the backyard however, a loud man’s voice was heard.

-          Lyra, we’re going!

-          But daaaad! I was going to train.

-          You can train later, let’s go.

-          Oh, whatever.

-          And you’re coming too. – The man reached the door and pointed to Sherlock. – Can’t have a stranger walking alone in my home.

Sherlock was quite happy with the turn of events. He wanted to go soon to town and he didn’t want to train Lyra, so everything was good.

Walking around town, Sherlock decided to sneak out of their company and back into Baker St., to see if he could get his hands on some of those plants. Still, it was dark, and he wasn’t quite sure where he had seen them, and he would soon find out that Baker St. was the largest street in town.

“Ah, just my luck. Where did I even walk earlier?”. Contrary to popular belief, Sherlock’s sense of direction was quite terrible. The sun now was also making him start to regret his decision. A few hours later and he had searched the entire street, back and forth, multiple times, to no success.

-          There you are. Why did you run? – Lyra was casually walking towards him. – You look even worse than the first time I met you. Seriously, are you like a pig, or something?

Hungry and tired, Sherlock realized how long he had been searching for those plants. Of course he hadn’t had lunch yet, he was looking for better food. Still, maybe it was time to stop for now. He had more important things to do… Unless Lyra could help.

-          I was looking for some plants I saw a while ago. Someone was growing them around here, but I can’t remember where.

-          Growing some plants? What do you need that for?

-          It’s just… They were so exquisite! I need to find them again.

-          Oh, don’t tell me you’re of those people.

-          Those people? I can appreciate the art of horticulture when well done, and this person has demonstrated a skill far superior to most people I have ever seen, and certainly surpassed whatever lack of finesse the rest of this town has.

-          So, you’ll belittle my gardening skills to my face and expect no retribution? I’ll let you know I was two times champion of best crop in town, beating whatever loser you so champion. We’ll see today who grows the better plant once we’re back!

“Why did I open my mouth? I don’t even like horticulture that much, it was all just a ruse so I wouldn’t need to belittle their food. I suppose a better plan would have been to just try and not offend them in any way. Still, I don’t know anything past the basics on how to grow a plant.” And to say Sherlock knew the basics was a joke. He didn’t even t try to dabble in that kind of activity as a kid, nor has he ever read much about the task, besides having to open a hole, place seeds and cover the hole afterwards, he knew nothing. For all he knows, that South African plant could easily have been cultivated here. Hell, for all he knows, that plant was always grown here and exported to Africa afterwards.

Too late now, he knew as better as anyone that Lyra wouldn’t back down from that challenge. “I mean, why did she even try to offend me for trying to look for plants? ‘Those people’? You mean, like you? After learning about her love for swords did she realize she hated gardening?”

-          Either way, can you help me find those plants? We can go back afterwards.

-          Meh, sure. Was it on this street?

-          Yeah, that’s about the only thing I know.

-          Well, there’s only three people in Baker St. who grows crops. So it should be fast.

And fast it was. Not even two minutes later they arrived at the first house. The red door bothered Sherlock’s vision, but the few decorations around the house made him feel welcome. They were decorations of dogs, puppies to be more precise. And there were marks of someone trying to draw a dog’s paw in one of the walls.

-          Ugh, I hate these people, so I’m going to hide somewhere until you’re done talking. Find me when you’re done. – Lyra seemed slightly bothered, and walked away.

-          Wait. The people here refuse to talk to me.

-          Not them… Trust me. – Lyra is very determined to not be near him when he knocks on that door.

And they sure were very likeable. The older man who opened the door came with his granddaughter, who was leaping around with more energy than anyone Sherlock had met in that half dead city.

-          Ah! A foreigner. To what do I owe this honor, sir?

-          Nice to meet you, sir. I’m here in search of a specific crop I saw growing here in town. And was wondering if I could see your plants. – Sherlock was no longer completely sure he knew how to address someone for the first time

-          Ah yes. Say no more. Come in, come in. I’ll show you my finest products.

While crossing the house to the backyard, the place where the man grew his crops, the little girl tried showing Sherlock a multitude of toys, all hand made, and all related to dogs.

-          This one is my favorite! It looks like the last dog we had, Mr. Peanuts. I gave him that name because he had a face full of little balls that looked like peanuts. He never gave us trouble, but he died soon.

That looked like a very expensive and custom made toy. In fact, you could even see the little balls the girl referred to in his face. “They look less like peanuts, and more like a disease.” Thought Sherlock.

-          That’s very pretty, little girl.

-          I’m not a little girl, I’m Sonya.

-          Oh, forgive me, Sonya. Who made that toy?

-          I don’t know. The other toys were made by dad, but this one Lyra gave me last year.

“Lyra?”

-          You’re friends with Lyra?

-          Yeaah! She comes to play here all the time. – Sonya got so excited at the question she started pulling her braids, completely ignoring that the dog was still in her hand. – Do you know Lyra, mister?

-          Yeah. I’ve met her.

-          She’s so nice! But it’s been a while since she last came. Is she alright, mister?

-          She is. Still very… Energetic. – Sherlock was amazed someone liked Lyra that much. Maybe she treated other kids better? Could there be two Lyras in this town?

-          Oh, if you see her again, could you tell her to come visit me? I miss her.

-          I’ll pass the message.

-          Thank you!

-          Why did she stop coming?

-          I don’t know. I think it’s because I told her my cake was better. That was the last time I saw her

Surprising a little girl like that could already bake cakes. Sonya shouldn’t be more than 9 or 10 years old. Sherlock wondered for a bit why he never did this sort of thing as a kid. He was wondering that a lot lately…

-          Here we are mister. These are my pride and joy!

Maybe the sun was too hot that time of the year, or maybe there was a lack of books and knowledge on gardening in this town, but the crops all looked strange, almost like they were sick. Some had small white dots over them, some looked like they were completely dry, and some just didn’t look like what they were supposed to be at all.

-          I’m the most inventive when it comes to cultivating my creations. – The man holds a horribly deformed strawberry in front of Sherlock. – This one I grew when I experimented with growing berries on crates.

-          Huh. That certainly is… interesting. – Sherlock gave a faint smile, but forgot to follow with the eyebrows, ending with a very forced expression.

-          Are you looking for something specific? You can look around. – The man quickly puts the strawberry away.

-          Thanks.

Sherlock walked around the place to not slight the man, but he was already sure that was not the right house. The little girl followed him around the entire thing as if waiting for him to talk, but every single plant in that place amazed him in ways they shouldn’t, so he didn’t say a thing. A few minutes later, Sherlock was done.

-          Quite the creations you have here, mister… - He just realized neither of them introduced themselves.

-          Hoon. The name’s Acie Hoon. – The man smiles nervously, as if waiting for further commentary on his crops.

-          Nice to meet you mister Hoon, I’m Holmes. Sherlock Holmes.

-          The pleasure’s all mine. – Mister Hoon answered far too quickly.

-          I really like what you have made here – Sherlock became very careful with the words he chose. – But unfortunately, it’s not what I’m looking for. I was searching for a very specific plant, and it’s not here. Still, I can see why you are so proud of this place. Congratulations…

-          I… See – The man clenches his fist like he hadn’t clenched since the first day he lost the best crop award to Lyra. – Well then, mister Holmes, I hope you find whatever plant it is you’re looking for soon.

-          Thank you, so do I.

No handshakes were given at the exit, Sherlock simply walked outside and looked for Lyra.

-          Did you find it?

-          The plant? No. Your friend? Yes.

-          Ugh. At least you know why I didn’t want to go in there.

-          What’s so bad about her? She seems so energetic.

-          That’s what’s so bad about her. She wants to be near me all the time, keeps hugging me and calling me sister.

-          Oh, that’s so cute.

-          That’s serious! Last time we had a cake competition and she kept distracting me all the time with the way she cooked.

-          So that’s your excuse? Your cake wasn’t as good because she was “energetic?

-          Her cake was better because I couldn’t bake mine in time. Either way, how do you even know she won?

-          She told me. Says she misses you a lot.

-          Ugh, just what I needed. – A little shiver runs down Lyra’s spine.

-          Are you too old to play with her?

-          It’s not that, we just went our separate paths.

-          You’re barely old enough to even go down a path. – Sherlock knew it was true. He knew it because he was already in a similar relationship with a friend. Except, in his case, he was Sonya, and his friend was Lyra.

-          Whatever. Look, the next house is over there.

-          Are you going to hide again?

-          There’s no kids there, just a normal guy.

…

Finishing up on all three houses, Sherlock was perplexed and slightly bothered that they didn’t find the pelargonium.

-          Nice going.

-          How? I’m sure it was around here. – Sherlock scratches his head, realizes his hair is a mess, and stops touching it.

-          And I’m sure you’re wrong. – Lyra acted like she was scolding Sherlock. – There’s nobody else growing crops around here, and trust me, the 2 times town champion would know if someone was.

How did a plant like that even ended up in that town in the first place? Sherlock thought back on most of the plants he saw. Mister Hoon had nothing resembling edible food, and the other two, an old man barely growing anything and a woman studying biology had nothing so specific as to remind Sherlock of a peppermint-scented pelargonium. Was he seeing things?

-          Either way, we should go back, or dad will get mad again. – Lyra was already quite distant from the unmoving Sherlock.

-          Fine, let’s go back…

It eventually stopped being a matter of finding better food and it became a matter of pride. How could he be so mistaken. Even the scent was there. Or maybe it was just an image looking so much like the plant he wanted that the scent came from memory. Or maybe it never existed in the first place…

…

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I realized writing is also jogging my memory. It makes me feel good, because everyday I’m happier with my results than last time. Hopefully this keeps up. And hopefully I can keep writing for the rest of this month. Currently at 5663 words.