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faegoddessog · 1 year ago

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Seventy Two Hours of Bliss Ch. 38/41

Chapter 38: Letters from the Ice

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, talk about masturbation, separation angst,

Series Masterlist

Series Summary:

You are neighbors with Austin Butler on the Gold Coast of Australia just prior to shooting Elvis. You become just friends because he is taken. However, after he is single again, you both find out just how attracted you are to one another and things get unrelentingly hot.

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, here there be lemons.

Authors Notes: I started writing this while remodeling my kitchen, so that informed the slightly quirky narrative. It starts slow, but once it heats up, it is on fire. I have tried to pull facts from RL as much as I could, but obviously there are some assumptions and flat out dreamy wishes involved here.

Chapter 38: Letters from the Ice

8.25.2020

Hey babe!

So, yay email! Hopefully this will work for us. :) But the internet is SO SLOW. Even with barely anyone here it took 10 min for my email to load. I am told by the winterers that trying to upload a video is all but impossible. But a picture *can* go through. Thank the local deity that we don’t have to super old school it and use carrier penguins! Yay! Well we finally made it to McMurdo. I can’t believe it’s been a whole month since I’ve seen you, well except for the phone calls in Christchurch. It feels like the band aid is really ripped off now. I’m just trying to breathe through it. I hope you are staying busy or at least distracted. I am excited to finally be here after 5 days of delayed flights as is the rest of my group. We’ve taken to calling ourselves a flock. I have no idea why. So I’ve got a room all to myself right now, but we’ll see how many people show up for the mainbody season in October, I may or may not have a roommate. So, there I was trying to get settled and I opened my big suitcase and found the books and the dark chocolate and the candles and the little bottle of essential oil blend. Fuck it smells like you. It made me cry and smile at the same time. Thank you baby. This is a classic pic me in front of the station sign. It looks darker than it was, but we only had 4 hours of sunlight and there was a storm coming. Wow, I thought I'd been through blizzards at home. This was nothing compared to what they got here! I’d send you a photo. But it’s literally just white.

I do have a confession to make. You remember that freakin’ hot phone sex we had during my quarantine? Yeah… um.. I recorded the audio, yup, every time. I’m gonna listen to your amazing voice telling me to touch myself. I think I’ll lube up my butt plug you gave me and push it into my ass imagining it’s you. Fuck I miss you. I miss your body next to mine at night and your cock in me in the morning. I love you Aus, I miss you. All the kisses for you. ~Your Kitten

8/26/20

Kitten!!! I’m so stoked that we still get to keep in touch. Even if only over email. That pic of you in front of the sign feels surreal. I can't even tell it's you with all the layers! The landscape looks so desolate. I’m so glad you found my gifts, that’s just stuff I don’t like to live without, kinda like you. I’m not liking living without you. Although I’m STILL finding post-it notes. You little fiend, putting them in all my clothes. Makes me smile and cry too. I did get some exciting news though. Baz, as you know, has been checking up on me since you left. I really love him, he is such a marvelous soul. Anyway he told me yesterday that we will start rehearsals next week and filming is slated to start up again in mid to late September. Thank God, I gotta have something to focus on other than this empty apartment. I’m just waiting for the rest of the crew to get back in country, then I’ll be too busy to think. Also, I’m gonna talk to your Uncle Roy this week and make sure I can still stay here. Baz says the studio will give me a stipend for the apartment and I’ll just pass that along to him. That reminds me, Kate said she had not seen anything related to us from Marissa’s channel and that she would be willing to have a meeting with her, but she won’t make any guarantees. I have a confession too, I went and developed those couple rolls of film we'd taken. It was so fucking sad that you weren’t there to play with while I waited for them to dry. Anyway, You know how I wasn’t sleeping in our bedroom yet? Well, I put the photos I took of you up all over our bedroom and it finally let me sleep in there alone, although I might’ve cried myself to sleep just a little. When I woke up hard I had those gorgeous pictures of you in that black dress to jerk off to. Fuck you are hot and fuck I miss you so much. Oh my god, just reading that you are fucking your ass with my butt plug has me hard, you are such a naughty Kitten. I might have to keep track of how naughty you are and punish you accordingly when I see you next. I wish you were here to suck this hard cock right now. I think when I finish I’ll stroke myself while looking at those closeups of you and imagine your luscious lips wrapped around me. I’d send you a pic of it, but I’m terrified it could get out somehow. I love you more, I miss you terribly, only 187 more days to go.. Roughly. ~Your Aus

9.20.20

Hello my love, So how’s things? Are you ready? I’m so excited for you to start filming again. You got this babe! I believe in you! (forehead kisses) There were satellite issues again when I tried to call you last night. I’m so sad we keep getting hosed on our phone calls. Soon you’ll be too busy to take a call from me! We are pretty solidly in the groove of our workday, that’s 6 days a week. I’m on the day shift right now and it’s been a bunch of maintenance checks and rebuilds on buildings and answering calls for service. There is a big build that got delayed due to covid, but we will be starting on that pretty soon. The food is surprisingly good. The galley really loves their themes. Taco Tuesday, Asian Nights, Sunday Brunch. The pizza is pretty good too! It’s not a woodfired oven made by the hands of angels good, but when you want pizza, it’ll do. Made a good group of friends, though we are all weird misfits here it seems. Do you remember when people had to talk to each other instead of stare at their phones? It’s like that here, since there isn’t wifi, not that it would work right. It’s amazing how old school it feels, it’s kind of wonderful. Probably sounds like torture to you my shy, introverted darling.

Most of the people here are guys. It’s like 70/30. I’m the only woman in my department, not like that’s new to me. The first day I showed up for work the foreman asked if I was in the wrong place. They tried to give me shit at first until I out-hammered them all in a nailing race. Just a dumb little competition thing. But it stopped them from fucking with me. Yeah, I know my stuff assholes! Lol! Now we are all good. Except for Joe, I do not like Joe. He just rubs me wrong and won’t let the girl thing go. We may have to have a little come-to-Jesus meeting during which I emasculate him with the claw on my purple hammer! The other women I’ve met have also been surprised by the overall disappointing behavior from some of these guys. There is a saying on the ice- “Antarctica: Full of badass women and mediocre men.” This is true. Not all the guys are that way though, some of them are nice and those are the ones that get laid. Yeah, there are a lot of hookups happening and there are free condoms, like, everywhere. No one here is as interesting or as sexy as my man though. Plus, you spoiled me with not having to use condoms. I miss your skin on mine, I miss your lips on mine, I miss your cock in my mouth. Since I don’t have a roommate yet, I think I’ll light your candle, put on the sexy music playlist we used to fuck to and add some of that EO to my wrists. I’m going to suck on my dildo. I’ll start slow just licking the tip, I’ll imagine your hand in my hair and your sky blue eyes watching every flick of my tongue. I’ll make sure my lips are good and wet before I slide it down my throat. And I’ll be fucking myself with my vibrator, the one that's curved. The only thoughts I'll have in my mind are ‘it’s your cock in my mouth, it’s your hand on my pussy, it’s you, it’s you, it’s you’. I’m gonna cum so hard, moaning around your imagined cock in my mouth, I may have to do it twice. God I miss you. Tell me more about how you jerk off to pictures of me, that is so damn hot. I’m just imagining you stroking yourself, playing with the tip a little. Damn. ~Your Slutty Kitty

9/22/20

My bad, bad Kitty, I do not know how you do it, but are you aware of how fucking sexy you are? Even just via email you get me so riled up. How do you take the mere 26 letters of the alphabet and make them into these sexy fucking pictures in my head?! I miss my cock in your mouth too, I miss you laying out on the bed with your legs wide and my head buried between them. I don’t have anything to lick and pretend is your pussy, but I promise I will make up for it when I see you next. Oh lord I gotta go take care of this massively hard co

9/22/20

Hey love, Sorry, I hit send without meaning to! You got me so hot I wasn’t thinking clearly. It didn’t take me long baby, I used that coconut oil from just before you left. The scent totally put me right back there with you on your knees devouring my cock. That reminds me, I need to get that dress dry-cleaned… It’s stopped smelling like you now so… I suppose it’s time. I’m ready- ish, the last 6 months made me feel like all the Elvis sunk into my bones. I’ve been working like a fiend with Baz and Polly and Irene and Erik. They have all commented on how it’s different now, more natural. My day is so full of Elvis again it’s hard to think about anything else. I’m so nervous all over again. I’m waking up at 3 again. I miss you. Not just for the sex baby, but you. You make me better. Please keep trying to call, my PA on set will have my phone when I don’t. I put one of your pics up in my trailer, btw, one of the clothed ones. I kiss my fingers and touch it every time I leave and say hello to it when I come in. People that see me do it still don't know who you are, (Baz and Tom are good secret keepers). That last article with the pics of you and I at the airport really threw them all off. I think Kate told me that the paps were searching the passenger lists for all outgoing planes to Europe that day to see if they could figure out who you were. It's fun to keep them guessing. I totally get the hooking up, happens on set too. People are people. I’m not worried about you Kitten. How’s your demon though… she doin’ ok? Getting out of hand at all… pun intended! Ok, early call in the morning. I love you so much. 160 days +/- ~ton Roi

10.11.20

My darling man, FUCK I am still riding the high from talking to you last week! I can’t believe I caught you in your trailer too! I’m sorry I couldn’t play sexy games back with you because the phone was too public on my end. I loved you telling me how you were stroking yourself though and how you came on your stomach. I went right back to my room, to rub one out. Damn. Luckily my new roommate was at work. She asked me when she moved in why I had a pic of you and me on the wall by my desk. I told her I was in love with you. It was so funny, she sat down on the couch and started talking about you like we were in middle school. ‘ He’s so dreamy and I hear he broke up with his girlfriend and is dating a French woman!’ “was that the only time you met him?” Oh my god, it was all I could do to not laugh in her face. I’m sorry baby, I had to tell her. I hope you aren’t mad! I still don’t think she believes me, even after I showed her pictures of us (appropriately clothed of course). I appreciate you asking after that sexy bitch in my head. She is doing fine, staying on her lead. None of these people would satisfy her anyway. She’s too far gone for you. :) My daily horniness level has chilled out since I’ve not been getting fucked by you on the regular, though there are times! Oh and fun news! I’m going to be setting up a few field camps in a couple weeks, so I won’t be in touch much after halloween -ish. But I WILL be out on the literal ice. Think warm thoughts for me! At least I will get away from Joe! He is still a dick.

~your naughty Kitten (for different reasons)

10/12/20

Kitten, Of course I’m not mad! Once you are back I want the whole world to know that you are mine and I am yours. Also, Kate set up a meeting with your cousin Marissa. I talked to her and got her info when I talked to Uncle Roy. (He still refuses to let me pay him.) Kate was impressed by her and is planning on offering her a paid internship. Love you baby, go conquer that ice! ~Aus

(Please read the following letter with a deep southern accent of yore) Twenty fifth day of October in the year of our Lord two thousand twenty My darling Austin, I pray that this electronic mail finds you healthy and hale. I have been feeling dashed about by the trials and travails of my good work here on the deep continent. We no longer are a sleepy little hamlet of a mere 200 people. Oh no! A veritable influx of learned people hath arrived, swelling our little cold town to over 800! The light has arisen indeed as we currently receive a joyful 15 hours of sunlight each blessed day. My dear roommate Tabitha seems to have accepted the love that exists between us, my dear Austin, since she overheard our delightful conversation on the telephone a scant few days ago. Indeed it seems she has spread our information to the other members of the kitchen staff as one of the good ladies asked me about it the other day as I procured my nourishment. The person in question didn’t know you, but was happy to know I was dating someone, since apparently the rumor had been circulating that I was a person uninterested, sexually that is. The very idea! My darling Austin, I shall be leaving in two days time for my quest on the ice. It will be my pleasure to erect structures providing temporary shelter from which the good men and women of science may illicit new and exciting information about this oft times perplexing world that humanity calls home. And before you query, yes, I must confess my dear Mr. Butler, I have been imbibing in the devil's drink and yes my loins still burn for you. Pray for me, dear man, that I may endure such hardships that may come and be delivered forthwith into your awaiting arms. With all my love and tenderness. Miss Kitten P.S. Sorry about drunk-as-fuck girl up there, she is just being silly. Can’t wait to fuck your brains out again! Love you -She Demon

10/26/20

Kitten, You are so weird. I fucking love it and you. I’m so glad you are mine. Filming is so far so good. I barely have time to think, which is perfect. Also, I was eating a mango in the kitchen last night. You know how you cut the side off and score it then turn it inside out? Well, I decided just to eat it off the rind like that, instead of cut the chunks out. And all of a sudden it was like eating your dripping pussy. I am slightly ashamed to say that I dropped my pants right there and jerked off with the coconut oil. The juice was dripping down my chin and chest and onto my cock. Oh, My. God. It was the best one yet. I’ll have to do it for you (to you?) when you get back. Needless to say, a whole new world has opened up to me. I WILL be buying more mangoes. I may not be able to see one without getting aroused from here on out. I think I’ll go have the other half now…

Good luck doing bang! bang! construction things on the ice! Stay safe and warm. I’ll talk to you when you get back. Forever yours- Austin

10.27.20

Aus- Oh, Mangoes… Damn. Now I fucking want mangoes. Freshies are like currency down here, I haven’t seen a mango though. Just so you know, that last letter was a bet between me and Tabs. We did karaoke that night and I got a little sloshed and started talking in accents. She didn’t think I would do it. Lol! I tried calling you a few min ago, but no answer. I’m leaving in an hour. I’ll email and try to call when I’m back! Oh and come to find out that Joe thought he was flirting with me the whole time, he likes me. Was about to pull my pigtails, I suspect. Boys are so weird. I confronted him and he confessed he was crushing on me pretty hard. I told him about you ( not by name) and that I wasn’t available (plus I would fucking break him). He seems to have backed off and will hopefully treat me like a person. So yay! Growth! Love you tons, Tally ho! Kitten

10/28/20

Darling, It breaks my heart that I missed hearing your voice. I really needed it too. We filmed some gut wrenching stuff this week and I just needed you. I love you, I love you, I love you. Austin 124 +/-

11.22.20

Sweet, sweet man, I love you too! I’m sorry you had a tough week and I wasn’t there for you. I promise after this, I will never be more than a text away from you again. I hope it’s gotten better! I’m going to try calling tonight when I get off work. Thank god I’m back though! We had a crazy, crazy time. We got caught in a freak storm at Amundsen-Scott. We were supposed to be there for like a day to get supplies and such. We ended up there for 5 days! But after that things cleared up, it was amazing. We set up 5 different camps. Everything from simple temporary polar escapes on wooden platforms to actual shelters that will have to stand up for the rest of the season if not longer. One was at a penguin rookery! They were adorable and came right up to us! Miss you love, hopefully we will talk soon! ~Kitten

11/23/20

Babe, Those pictures with you and the penguins are unreal! I can't believe they just walked up to you. It blows my mind that anything can live down there. How are things with Joe? Did he actually change his behavior? I would say ‘do you need me to come down there?’ but I know you got this, my amazing, strong sexy beast of a woman. I hope I can pick up when you call next. Missing hearing your voice broke my heart. ~Aus 98+/- (Why is this taking so damn long! You should be in my arms.)

12.14.20

Dear darling Austin, Thank god we got to talk last week, I was really worried about you. Digging into the pain about your mom… I just wish I was there to hold you tight, like she would’ve been. I know I didn’t know her, but from everything you’ve said, I know I would have adored her. (hugs, hugs and more hugs) I got your package yesterday! I opened it without thinking, thank god all the things in it were wrapped! Except for the mangoes… fuck baby. They are perfectly ripe right now, if a little frozen. I’m gonna go eat some mango pussy. Would you like that? watching me eat pussy….

Did you get my package yet? It might be a bit silly. But you can open it when you get it. :) We have been digging into this new building since I got back. The guys worked on all the steel pieces and I’m lead on the framing team. It’s definitely different from what I’ve been used to doing. But I’m finding that all my skills are actually helpful because I know the pieces that come next, so I don’t let the crew fuck things up for the electricians and plumbers and drywallers that will be coming behind us in the future. I miss you baby, I know we keep saying that to each other, so much that it’s like saying something over and over again and the shape of it feels odd in your mouth all of a sudden. But even though I have made great friends here and am in a routine that pulls me from day to day, it would be perfect if you were here with me. With you on my arm, no one would try to pull my pigtails! Love you with all my heart ~Kitten

12/25/20

Baby Doll, Merry Christmas!! Babe, I did get your package, and I didn’t open in until this morning. Why would you say it’s silly? It’s amazing. You painted this? I am going to take it in and have it framed so I can hang it up. Wow. If you ever wanted to stop doing construction, you could be a professional artist. Tom and Rita have invited a bunch of us up to their place for dinner. I’m about to go get ready but just wanted to tell you that yes, I get it. Saying it gets old, but it doesn't mean we don’t feel it still. Yeah, mom would’ve adored you right back. I fucking miss you. I fucking love you. And holy fuck yes on watching you eat pussy, mango or otherwise.

66 days +/- (can we make time move faster?) ~Your own personal elf- Austin

12.25.20

Dear Austin, Merry Christmas!! I loved your gifts, they are perfect for here! Lip balm and sunscreen and the warmest, silliest socks. That mini humidifier is sitting on my bedside table as we speak! The running gloves for under my big ones are going to be a game changer! Now I can do fiddly bits without my fingers getting cold! Although it’s a ridiculously balmy 25 degrees Celsius out there right now. I don’t even bring my red parka out right now! Today I joined the Antarctic Polar bear club. Yup I plunged into barely above freezing water in my underwear, no not the unicorn ones, I actually had some polar bear ones I brought just for this! I was nothing if not on theme! It was fucking cold. And exhilarating! But I’m not sure I want to do it again. Luckily we went right into the sauna to warm up! Love you ever so much, give Tom and Rita my love! ~Your Xmas Kitten

1/1/21

My sweet Kitten, Thank you for the phone call, oh my god I needed it. I’m feeling so worn out, even though we kinda had this week off and I’ve been just sleeping as much as I can and going to the beach with other cast members, it’s just not the same without my best girl next to me. (that’s you, btw) I wish I had you with me last night to kiss. I did end up kissing Olivia, but it was just a new years eve peck thing, plus it’s not like we’ve not kissed on set. Is that weird for you? I’ve never asked you about it. Love you so much, it hurts. I def need a kiss on my heart. 59 days +/- ~Yours, Austin

1.3.21

Austin, When I see you, you are gonna get all the kisses on every part of you. Real talk babe: where I’d like to be there to remind you what my kisses are like and reap the benefits if you get turned on, kissing on set doesn't bug me, that’s just part of acting. Didn’t Elvis kiss like all the girls in the audience? Super-spreader much? Ha! TBH, I pecked a few people too when we counted down to midnight. How do you feel about that? Wow, that looks super passive aggressive. I’m def not meaning it that way. Just wondering cuz we’ve never talked about it and I don’t think our games with Loki or ‘the guy from Brisbane’ count as talking about it! Now actually making out with someone like not for work (that’s a crazy sentence right there!)… that we’d def have to talk about. I mean… mostly because I would want to be a part of something hot like that. FOMO!!! On a different note, I sang in Icestock last night. It’s the annual McMurdo music festival. There were comedians and skits and mini plays and bands and a chili cook off! I sang a bunch of stuff with some guys, we had to rehearse on our off time but it was super fun! I had my buddy video it. I’m gonna put it on a USB stick and send it to you, just for fun! There is some other stuff on there too, just for you, including my polar plunge! God we needed a party too. The grind was getting to us all. Yeah we have 24 hours of daylight, but I never knew I’d miss the stars so much! We are about to head into Vessel Season, that means extra people in town, mostly Kiwi and US military, to help unload the massive supply ships. From what I understand we will be pulled to help. I love you baby, soon hunny, soon I miss YOUR kisses ~Kitten

1/8/21

My darling love, Happy Elvis’ birthday! He would've been 86. We had a huge birthday cake on set today. I don’t really care about pecks like that, plus you are too French for me to get up in arms about that. I do feel the same way you do about making out. If you are gonna make out with someone, I want to be there too. If it’s a girl, I def want to be there. That would be hot. We filmed a kissing scene today between young Elvis and younger Priscilla. It really made me miss you so much. I definitely channeled our first kiss into the work. Remember, on the couch? This might be weird to say, but no one kisses me like you do. Love and miss you, 52 days +/- ~Aus

1/25/21

Kitten, Honey, I have a confession. We were rehearsing one of the big shows where Elvis goes into the audience and kisses all the girls. I had to talk my own demon out of taking home an extra and fucking her silly. She looked just enough like you and she was staring at me all dreamy eyed when I was on stage. Then I had to kiss all these women in the audience and I was all worked up. I’m sorry babe, know that I didn’t do anything or even talk to her. But we talked about being honest with one another and I feel better with you knowing. No I’m not asking if I can do anything with her, it was just like a perfect storm to turn me on. Honestly I’ve been too exhausted and terrified to really feel horny lately, so it kinda took me by surprise. I’m so sorry if this makes you mad. Know I love you and I’m not gonna do anything to screw up what we have. ~Austin 35 days +/- (I can wait, I swear)

1.26.21

Babe, Love you, not mad. Will respond more when I have time! ~Your best girl

1.31.21

Ok my love, First of all, I’m sorry this took so long to reply to. It’s been so busy here I’ve not had time. Secondly, I’m not mad. You are human, despite your intrusive thoughts to the contrary. Being attracted to people is just a part of being human. It actually feels really good that you were comfy enough to tell me how you are feeling. Thank you for trusting me. I have this ideal thought in my head that I’d want to be cool with a sorta semi-permeable relationship. Like yeah, making out with a women with you would be hot… fuck I think making out with a man with you would blow my fucking mind. (would you be down for that? Kissing a guy?) But I know I’m not cool with either of us just fucking others at will, at least not when we are this far away. How could you reclaim me, or I you, when these miles exist between us? Share someone with you? Sure, but we need to actually sit down and talk about it face to face. When I'm back and we’ve talked and you and I have had our fill of one another, if that girl is game and we get along… I’m down to try it out, baby. If you are even interested in that. There are a few cute Airmen here, but my demon seems to be slumbering. Remember, the less I get the less I want it. It could also be the fucking 10-12 hour days we’ve been putting in! Which is VERY different from fucking 10-12 hours a day. Remember our first 72 hours? Damn that was amazing. I love you baby, now and forever, Your lover- Kitten

2/4/21

Amazing woman of my dreams, How are you so fucking cool, do you know how hard I had to work to get my other gf’s to be cool about kissing on set, let alone talk about sharing a person. This whole thing makes me love you even more. How do I feel about kissing a guy? I think it depends on the guy. But it doesn’t squick me out or anything. Honestly right now, if it meant getting to hold you in my arms, I’d do it and more in a heartbeat. And for the record, I don’t think I could ever ‘get my fill’ of you babe. I love you so much, 25 days +/- (is that fucking real, only 25 days???) Devoted to you- Austin

2.25.21

Babe, Oh my god! I am so done helping unload and reload ships! Give me my fucking hammer and let me pound something! So I have some shitty news. Y’know how, on the phone we were talking about my departure date being end of February and being back with you by March 1st. Well, I got my departure date, it’s not until March 10th, and I can’t move it up. They even offered me a bonus to stay overwinter, but I declined. As cool as it’s been I need to get off the ice and into your arms. So I won't be back on the Gold Coast until March 12th at the earliest. I don’t know if I have to quarantine. I have to arrange for my stuff to be shipped to Greece in that time as well. You say you have to leave for London mid March. I’m freaking out that I might miss you. I’m gonna try to call tomorrow so we can talk about it. Fuck this sucks, Love you so much ~Kitten

#Austin Butler #Austin Butler smut #Austin Butler x reader #Austin Butler fic #Austin butler fanfic #@purejasmine #@slowsweetlove #@richardslady121

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mysticpetals · 3 years ago

Text

Supermarket runs

Pairing: Jake × mc (Syianne)

Genre: fluff, humor

Words: 2.5k

Summary: Three times Jake ran into Syianne and one time he actually made plans.

Anonymous asked: Hello. If you do still requests, can you do 27 and 40, with Jake and MC from Duskwood from fluff? Sorry I forgot to add that.

Prompts: 27. "Are you blushing?" 40. "Why are you so afraid of loving?"

Notes: here it is! A cute meet up fic with Jake's point of view. I hope you like this one because it's going to be the last thing I'll be posting for a while 😬

Jake had reached his new hideout just a few hours ago.

After evading yet another capture from the government and planting false trails in his wake, he had escaped to a small town, renting an apartment for the time being.

Opening the door to his new house for a few days, he put his cat down, opened his cage and let him explore. Glitch immediately disappeared and Jake put his bags down, sighing tiredly.

He needed to make a quick run to the store nearby, getting some food and other essential items since it was clear that they didn't stock it in the room.

Before he could change his mind, Jake picked up his wallet, locking the door and walked to the store he came across on his way over to the apartment.

It was a medium sized store, probably the one of the few in this small town. Jake browsed the shelves picking up the things he needed along the way. He avoided eye contact with everyone, putting his hood up.

When he was done, he quietly put the few cup noodles and microwaveable dinners on the counter and waited for the cashier to scan his items. Just as he went to pick up the first item, the cashier's phone rang and he glanced at the screen, eyes widening in surprise before his face settled into panic.

"Oh shit, oh shit, I completely forgot," he mumbled to himself frantically and giving Jake an apologetic glance, ran towards the back room.

Well then, it wasn't like he was in any hurry either. He didn't want to go back so soon anyway. He rocked back on his heels, adjusting his mask so that it still covered the lower half of his face and looked around in boredom.

From the backroom, he could hear two voices arguing, one male and other female and just when he thought that maybe it was going to take a while, the cashier ran out of the room, hefting a jacket over his shoulders and looked back.

"I owe you one, Syianne! Thank you so much!"

Jake tilted his head on hearing the familiar name, memories of conversations with his Syianne creeping up.

"You really do, Percy! I better have a three day weekend after this!" The girl shouted back and Jake smiled behind his mask. She even sounded like her.

The cashier yelled back something but he was already out the door to hear properly. The girl came out from the back, wearing her uniform jacket and grumbling about having to do two shifts, but Jake had frozen.

"Sorry about that. My coworker forgot about the date with his girlfriend and had to bolt. Between you and me, she's pretty scary so I'd be running too," she said, already ringing up his few items but Jake couldn't reply. He kept staring at her familiar face, which he had accidentally accessed when going through her chats before.

This was his Syianne.

She glanced at him, probably wondering why he didn't say anything before looking back on the screen. He broke out of his stupor when she told him the total and held up a bag with his items.

His fingers brushed against her and it felt like a lifetime, blood rushing to his cheeks and heart pacing.

"Thank you," he said and got a smile in return.

"You're welcome! Sorry about the delay earlier."

He shook his head rapidly, telling her that it was no trouble and he completely understood. That made her smile widen, her eyes crinkling with happiness.

"Come again soon!"

Oh, he'd be coming back very soon, indeed.

The first thing he did after reaching home was to power on his laptop and search for Syianne's location. Glitch hissed angrily at him for disturbing his slumber atop the chair he was now sitting in but Jake's eyes were fixed on the screen.

The results baffled him, as it showed her living in a completely different country from when he had searched her before, when he had just gotten her number. And then, realisation dawned on him that she might be using a VPN.

He banged his head on the table in frustration but also a little impressed that Syianne had thought of doing something like this to protect her identity.

He was supposed to stay away from all of them, to prevent pulling people into his messes but now one of the most important people in his life literally worked a walk away from his hiding place. He couldn't change places so frequently as it hadn't even been a day and he had to give some time to the police to cool off, before he got on the move again.

He sighed, too wound up to make anything but cup noodles, he got up and went into the kitchen. Glitch trailed behind him, sniping at his heels for his own food and Jake emptied the last can of cat food into Glitch's bowl.

With a jolt, he realised that he would have to go to the supermarket tomorrow again and it brought him equal parts of excitement as well as anxiety at the thought of seeing Syianne again.

———

The next evening, he put the cans of cat food on the counter and was disappointed to find that the guy from yesterday – Percy, if he recalled right – was going to scan his items.

Jake shifted the mask on his face and looked around to see if Syianne was somewhere but to no avail. If Percy noticed him looking around, he didn't say anything. When he grabbed the bag from him, the employee room opened and Syianne came out wearing casual clothes, a bag slung over her shoulder.

"See you tomorrow, Percy!"

She came out from behind the counter and her eyes widened in surprise as they fell on him.

"Oh hi! You're the one from yesterday."

Jake cleared his throat and let out a hesitant, "Y-yeah."

Percy snickered, throwing a knowing look at Jake before turning to Syianne.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, idiot. Bring some coffee with you." He handed Jake his bag as he scrambled to bring out his wallet to pay and gave him a wide smile.

"Syianne here works the morning shifts." He winked and Jake was mortified to hear the amusement in his voice, knowing that he had been caught.

"I'm not bringing you anything until I get my three-day weekend. Anyway, nice to see you again…." She trailed off when she turned to Jake and his mind went into overdrive as he thought about whether he should tell her his real name or not.

"Phil." He blurted out, "My name's Phil."

She tilted her head, no doubt thinking about that bartender from Duskwood who was currently locked up in jail.

"Funny, I know a guy named Phil. Not from around here though." She glanced at the door giving him a final smile.

"Because all the customers come in the evening." Percy complained and Syianne only rolled her eyes at his antics.

"Well, come by in the morning if you want to chat. It's pretty chill that time."

"Deal with it. Anyway, see you tomorrow." She waved one last time and walked out, Jake's eyes following her figure until she disappeared around the corner.

"She's sweet and a little too trustful. I better not hear any complaints about you from her Phil or I won't hesitate to throw a punch or two." Percy threatened and Jake flushed before muttering a hasty excuse and practically running out of the store.

She actually talked to him today and hearing her voice, her words just made it harder for him to stay away. But it was okay if he didn't tell her who he was, right? She won't be in any danger then, right?

These thoughts chased him as he walked back to his temporary home, almost tripping over Glitch when he entered and found a disgruntled cat, waiting for his food.

———

The next morning, Jake worked in his room, occasionally shooing away Glitch who was determined to get his daily dose of affection.

"Just a minute, Glitch." He muttered, typing rapidly, his eyes scanning the screen with an eerie quickness.

A loud, disgruntled meow from his cat breaks the silence again and Jake heaved a frustrated sigh, pushing his laptop away and glaring at the culprit.

"Fine, you little devil! I'll give you breakfast first."

He walked out of the room, Glitch trailing behind him, purring in appreciation and hopped on to a chair while Jake took out the instant pancake mixture that he had recently bought. And that reminded him of the fact that Syianne was here, so close and whether he should tell her or not.

Making the pancakes in a daze, he put a plate in front of Glitch who immediately started gobbling it up. Jake huffed out a laugh and made his own plate, sitting across from his cat. The syrup was towards Glitch and when he leaned forward to take it, he was met by Glitch's paw swatting at his hand.

"What the hell? You ate already! Let me eat too!"

Glitch's paw rested on the syrup bottle and edged it towards the end of the table.

Jake froze.

"Glitch, no. Give me the syrup."

The bottle shifted a bit more.

"No, Glitch. Stop that."

The cat looked at him and stopped and Jake gave a sigh of relief, only to throw back his head in exasperation at the next moment as the bottle was finally pushed off the table.

"You little devil! I'm going to—"

The cat sprang up and ran into the other room, leaving Jake in the kitchen alone.

"Why is it always me?"

———

After cleaning up the kitchen and eating pancakes without any syrup, Jake found himself in the supermarket once again, embarrassed about being there everyday for the last three or so days.

When he put his items on the counter, including a syrup in a plastic bottle this time, he found himself facing Syianne who gave her an amused look.

"Having a good day, Phil?"

It took a moment for Jake to understand that she was talking to him and he flushed when he met her gaze.

"Not really. My cat decided to be an asshole today."

Syianne laughed and if Jake could have heard it everyday, he would. When she scanned his bandaids, she raised an eyebrow, and Jake gave her a sheepish smile, showing her his poorly wrapped hand.

"Oh no, that looks bad," she said but Jake only shook his head.

"It's better than it looks, I promise. I'm just bad at wrapping things up."

She didn't smile but only looked behind him. Seeing no more customers, she gestured for him to come to her side of the counter. Confused, he did as she asked and understanding dawned on him when he saw her opening the packet of gauze he had just bought.

"Oh, no, no. It's okay. I can do it at home." He rushed but she didn't listen, silently asking for him to hold his hand forward. When he realised that Syianne wasn't going to take no for an answer, he sighed and put his hand forward, face heating up and he regretted forgetting to wear a face mask that day.

"Are you blushing?" She asked teasingly and his flush only worsened.

"I-I'm not used to other people caring for me."

She hummed.

"That must be lonely."

She carefully unwrapped his hand, winching at the sight of blood and cleaned it with antiseptic wipes, before wrapping a bandage around the cut. Her hands were gentle but firm, as if she knew what she was doing and had done it a hundred times before. Jake was suddenly hit with a weird nostalgia, a feeling of wanting to know who she was, how many siblings she had, what her goals were.

He didn't realise when she had stopped, staring at him, as he was looking at her and only after several minutes had passed, did Syianne dropped her hands, letting him know that she was done.

The thought struck him like lightning and he quickly grabbed his bags, muttering another thank you and getting a simple smile in return. Before he knew, he was out on the streets and on the way to his house, his thoughts a raging turmoil.

"Thank you very much." He spoke softly, quietly, overwhelmed by such a gesture from her. He was essentially a stranger and she had still helped him, not knowing who he was.

She didn't know who he was.

What was he doing? Going to see her like that, finding excuses to go to the supermarket in hopes of seeing her? What did he want to accomplish?

He released a shaky sigh, running his hands through his hair, when he reached the place. Glitch, knowing that it wasn't the time for his shenanigans, only gave a welcoming meow from his place on the couch.

Maybe it was time he started searching again.

Jake opened his laptop but the ping from his phone made him look for it, heart quickening when he saw her name on it.

Syianne [5:00 pm]

Hey Jake!

How are you doing? I hope you're safe

I patched up a guy today who came in at work. He had a cat too!

Anyway, I don't know why I'm still writing but I hope you're safe and nobody got to you

Why are you so afraid of loving?

Sorry, insensitive question. Ignore that

Waiting for when you come back

...I'm still looking forward to that date

Jake's lips quirked at her messages, warmed by her concern. She had messaged him everyday ever since he went into hiding again. He hadn't replied then, being busy because of his relocation, but now….

In a bold move, very uncharacteristic for him, he messaged her back.

Jake [5:03 pm]

What if I told you that the guy you patched up was me?

Syianne [5:04 pm]

What?

His name was Phil

Jake waited as she typed and erased, all of it going on for two minutes before she stopped. Jake had a sudden, terrible feeling that perhaps he had made a mistake but soon enough, she replied.

Syianne [5:06 pm]

You're cute in real life as well <3

Jake laughed, amused by her flirty response and decided that perhaps he'd stay there for a few more days.

Syianne [5:06 pm]

What about that date at the Chinese restaurant you promised me?

Jake [5:07 pm]

Does tomorrow work for you? ;)

#duskwood #duskwood jake #everbyte duskwood #duskwood game #everbyte #jake × mc #duskwood jake × mc #jake × player #duskwood fanfic #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood mc #duskwood phil

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library-of-cronos · 3 years ago

Text

Holiday Truce 2021

My truce gift for @pisceshi

Also please forgive me for taking so long. I was planning to do two of your prompts, but I got too invested into both so neither got done on time :/

I did your prompt about Danny taking a summer vacation in the country with Alicia!

Without further delay, here it is:

Ao3

Danny doesn’t know why it feels better to just push the green beans on his plate around rather than eat them, but it does. His family is sitting at the table, the three others happily eating their food. Meatloaf, he thinks. He doesn’t really know because his mom set the table for all of them, and he hardly looks at anything his parents cook anymore.

His dad is chattering on about something. A new weapon, maybe. Danny remembers something about batteries and ectoenergy about five minutes ago. But that was the last time he listened. Or cared to listen. Nothing good came out of it when he did.

But when there’s a dip in conversation, palpable enough for even Jazz to look up from her book, Danny makes eye contact with his mom. She seems like she’s frozen in place, just staring at him.

He looks away out of habit.

“Is there something wrong, sweetie?” She asks, gently setting her fork down beside her plate. “You’ve barely touched your food today.”

Danny can’t help a barely audible snort. Yeah, because he had totally eaten dinner yesterday. Or the day before. Or the day before that. When was the last time he ate with his family...?

“I’m just not feeling good.” He mumbles, still prodding his food absentmindedly. The sickeningly squishy meat slides down onto the plate when he cuts into it.

He can feel more than see his parents share a look with each other. Jazz sets her book down. Danny stabs a fork prong through a bean a bit too hard. She was always nosy. Again, the silence stretches on for much too long. They’re all waiting for him to say something else.

At this point it isn’t worth it to take a bite just to prove he’s ok. It isn’t worth it to force a smile to pretend that today is just an off day and nothing more.

His mom sighs again. She sounds tired. “Danny, we know you haven’t been eating or sleeping well lately.”

“Uh huh.” He doesn’t look up.

This is normally the part where the parents lecture the kid, right? Something about staying up late playing games or ditching class, of which only one of those was true.

“And your grades have been horrible.” His dad adds in. “We know something's wrong, son. We just don’t know what’s got you so down.”

And for a moment Danny stops his movements. There’s a tinge of sadness in the back of his dad’s throat when he talks.

But what do they want him to say? Sorry? Sorry that he can’t help ghosts have been attacking every day since the accident? Sorry that he can’t help that he’s the only one who can deal with them? He can’t do anything about it because the only ones who know are Sam and Tucker and they’re just humans.

His mom takes a deep breath, and his dad shifts his hand to rest on her lap under the table.

“We’ve been talking and…” She pauses, clenching her hands in anticipation. “We think it would be good for you to spend some time with your aunt Alicia this summer.”

The fork Danny was holding clatters against his porcelain plate. “What?”

His mom seems confused. “You remember my sister Alicia, right? In Arkansas?”

“That’s not- yes, I know who she is. But I can’t leave Amity! My friends are here, you guys are here!”

His mom’s face tightens just a bit. She seems displeased. “Well clearly none of us are helping. Alicia’s kindly offered to take you in for a week to give you some time away from home.”

“A week?!”

Her face tightens until it looks uncomfortable. “Don’t take that tone with me, young man.”

Danny sits back down in his seat, not even realizing that he had stood up at some point.

Her face softens in that motherly way. “I know you’ll miss your friends, Danny. And I know you’ll miss us too. But this could help in ways that we” she quietly grabs her husband’s hand under the table. “can’t.”

Danny picks the fork back up at the same time Jazz goes back to her book. He stabs at another bean, poking four holes in the stem. Again, his mom sighs from across the table. It’s with utter disappointment this time.

“We leave tomorrow. I suggest you start packing after you’re done sulking.”

Danny is most certainly not avoiding looking at the half-packed backpack on his bedroom floor. The clothes scattering the wood are not taunting him, at least not when he keeps his headphones on. And maybe if he avoids packing anything for long enough it won’t have to happen.

“It can’t be that bad.” Sam’s voice cuts into his train of thought. The screen fills with purple smoke when she throws a bomb at Doomed’s enemies.

“It’s a week without tech, Sam!” Tucker’s voice shrills in his microphone as he barely dodges attacks. “ A week!”

“Oh man up, Tuck.” Sam huffs out. “It’s not like you can die from not having your cell phone at all times.”

“You don’t know my babies like I do.”

“Ugh, don’t listen to him, Danny.” Sam continues. Her health bar goes down drastically when she takes a hit for Tucker, who clearly isn’t paying attention anymore. “He’s just a big baby who can’t handle a little natural wonder.”

“Remember how ‘beautiful’ nature can be in ghost central?” Danny ends up tripping in-game and lands himself directly in front of the enemies. His screen blanks with a game-over in a matter of seconds.

“But the ghosts can’t follow you all the way to Arkansas, right?” Tucker asks. The notification sound of two quick fwishes tells Danny that his friends logged out when he died.

“Boxy did, remember?”

“He hid in a present your dad left out for an entire day. It’s different.” Sam tries to wave off his fear.

Danny isn’t convinced. “Is it?”

“It is, and you know you’re just being stubborn because you don’t want to go.” And she’s right. “What’s the harm in a little sun and nature, no electronics?”

“Literally everything.” Tucker butts in, sounding offended at the mere idea.

Sam scoffs at his antics. “If you’d stop freaking Danny out we wouldn’t be having this issue, Tuck.” She sighs. “How about this: We come over to your house tomorrow and see you off. And when you’re out there we call you whenever we get the chance.”

Danny’s eyebrows raise at the implication. “Busy?”

“With the ghosts? You bet.”

Danny finds himself smiling. “You guys are gonna take care of the ghosts while I’m gone?”

“Do you doubt us, bro?” Tucker sounds like he’s smiling back.

“You think we’d let them harm Amity while you’re gone?” Sam adds. “Not a chance. You’re never alone when you have us.”

“Yeah, yeah, you guys are the best.” Danny glances back at his half-packed bag. “I guess I should stop putting this off.”

“You better. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Sam’s mic clicks as she ends the call and closes her computer.

“10:00 am, right?” Danny hums in agreement. “See ya then, dude.”

When the call goes cold, Danny clicks off and ends it. The screen fades into black when he touches the power button. He double checks his laptop is charging before he leaves his seat. And when he does, he plops himself down on the floor next to the unpacked clothes and continues where he left off.

Sam and Tucker really do show up to see him off the next morning, even showing up early, but their hugs and wishes of good luck doesn’t stop his mother from shoving them out the door when the flight they are scheduled to leave for ends up being a half an hour earlier than his family thought it would be.

So they rush over to the airport, luckily making it in time to get on the flight. The first one, because of course there had to be two, isn’t short. In fact it’s several hours long, because of course Arkansas is ridiculously far away from Amity and the plane feels like it’s five times slower (even if it’s clearly not).

And the dead silence between son and mother is awkward at best. It almost felt like she’s expecting him to run off at any second, even out of the plane. With ghost powers it’s possible, but he still isn’t going to.

And then they get to the second airport, the one Danny had taken before with Jazz, and it’s much scarier. For one, the plane door is open most of the way there, letting him see down to the hundreds of feet of skydiving they’re going to have to do. He looks over and sees his mom confident as she can be. She even seems a bit sleepy from the aircraft’s shaking and turning.

Secondly, his bag was strapped to his chest, since his parachute was on his back. And if either of those things dropped, the least it was going to be was a disaster. Third, Danny was no stranger to flying, but being on a plane was different in so many ways. Less control, more shaking, and so, so much higher up.

And when the co-pilot lets them know it’s time to jump, Danny’s hands keep shaking. It takes an encouraging hand-holding squeeze from Maddie to jump together. The parachutes unfurl immediately, letting them slowly descend to the ground. And from how high up they are, Danny can see roofs and shop windows peeking from around the trees and lined up on cracked concrete roads.

When they land it isn’t softly or gracefully, and Danny takes a tumble to the dirt, nearly wrapping himself up in the white cloth that was his parachute. His mom helps him out of the tangled mess, carefully tucking their chutes at the bottom of a tree, as well as helping him put the bag he was wearing on his chest instead rest on its proper place on his back. Finally, she gets a good look at the surrounding forest, seemingly taking notes on where they are.

Then she gets a glint in her eyes and takes Danny’s hand, leading them down a dirt path. He nearly stumbles and trips, but she skillfully makes her way around everything in their path.

But eventually his eyes make contact with a wooden porch as dark as twilight, and curved steps the same shade. A brick chimney stands tall on the rooftop, and Danny can see the outline of a fence behind the cabin. A crop that looks partly like an overgrown weed and partly like a red vegetable is squared off to the right of the house. There’s a tree stump covered with thick cuts, and a pile of uncut logs next to it.

It’s the perfect picture of nature that someone like Sam would love.

Then, finally, his eyes meet a woman’s. She has dark red hair, with a few white lines peeking out from under the short, straight cut she is sporting. As they get closer, he sees the deep blue overalls she’s wearing have a few obvious tears along the seams, and so does the pink plaid shirt she’s wearing under them.

His mom runs up to the woman, wrapping the two of them in a tight hug, leaving Danny stranded several feet away basically kicking pebbles as they chat and catch up.

But when the woman he knows is his aunt catches his eye, she puts two fingers in her mouth and lets out a loud whistle. He briefly wonders what that was for, but when an equally loud barking comes closer and closer he knows.

And the next thing he knows he’s on the ground, dealing with a face-licking dog. The black and white puppy seems just as excited to meet someone new as he is to pet an animal that isn’t a ghost.

“Good girl, Winona.” He can hear from the porch, in a sweet, yet deep and accented voice. It’s then followed by the quieter sound of his mom laughing under her breath.

He ends up shifting up to pet the top of Winona’s head as she sniffs his clothes excitedly.

“She likes new people, so apologies if she’s a bit rough.” Alicia calls over from where she’s standing.

“Nah, I love dogs.” Danny keeps petting Winona, amazed that there is hardly any dirt on her soft fur. She seems to melt into the attention, continually trying to lick his hand in appreciation. “What breed is she?”

“She’s a border collie mix.” Alicia pauses to think, then shrugs. “Honestly not sure what the other part is, since she’s a stray girl.”

Danny can’t tell either. A thinner face and body, but a wider nose and bigger, floppy ears. He isn’t exactly an expert in dogs, so her guess is as good as his.

“Well I’m sure you wanna wash off her slobber, so how about you come inside and I’ll show ya to the bathroom?” Alicia turns and says something to her sister, then whistles again to get the puppy’s attention. “Go play, Winona.”

The ball of fur immediately turns and gets off Danny’s chest, quickly running and darting behind the house again. Danny nods in approval, honestly impressed with her well trained behavior, then gets up from the ground and dusts himself off.

“C’mon in.” His aunt holds the door open for him, but his mom stops him with a gentle tug on his sleeve.

“Behave, and make sure you have fun, ok?” His mom peppers his head with a quick kiss, “I love you.” Then she steps off the porch and begins the trek back to where their parachutes are. Danny knows from experience that the airport returns part of the flight money in exchange for them.

First Alicia shows him to his room, wherein he sets his bag down on the floor with a sigh of relief, then she shows him to the bathroom, where he finally washes off the now-dried slobber from his face and hands. She quickly escorts him around her house, showing him the biggest places first, then leads him back to his temporary bedroom for the week.

“Sure you wanna unpack and get settled in real soon, but if ya feel like lying down for a spell that’s fine too.” She smiles at him, and it’s a comforting thing. “I’ll be in the living room whenever you’re ready to see the rest.”

Danny nods out of habit. “Sure.” Then what she says catches up to him. “Wait, the rest?”

She snorts under her breath and raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t think my house was just a dinky little shack, now did you?”

“No, no.” Danny defends on reflex. “I just-” He just what? “I’m just going to go unpack now.”

She nods and doesn’t seem to mind his slight. “Try not to wreck anything.”

“I won’t.” He promises, and she leaves, closing the door behind her.

Once she does he lets out another sigh of relief. Finally, peace and quiet. No skydives, no excited dogs, just quiet time away from ghost city.

And yet he does that thing that he always does. He checks every place he can: the closet, the dressers, the window above his bed, and the space under it. Any place where a ghost might be hiding, or could have laid a trap. He double, triple, quadruple checks every nook and cranny for something, anything that might be a sign of ecto-trouble.

Yet there’s nothing. There isn’t anything wrong with that, but it doesn’t feel real; A week without ghosts. But, with no reason to be even more paranoid about his aunt’s ghost-free house, he sets out to accomplish unpacking.

Danny slowly unpacks his folded clothes, finding a space for them in the top dresser drawer. Any bathroom necessities he brought in a blue cloth case he might have stolen from Jazz for this trip, which he puts in the little nightstand next to the bed.

Though, now that he’s looking at the furniture, it’s clear that it hasn’t seen use in a long time. He runs a finger across the desk. It comes up dusty, but clean-smelling. He takes a look around and sees that the bed and sheets are exempt from the dust, but almost nothing else is. When was the last time Alicia had guests, that it's this clearly unused?

The quilt blanket laid out for him was stitched together with red and green plaid squares. To test its softness, Danny lies down on it. It’s actually better than he thought it would be. There’s a layer of cushion in between the fabric, giving it a subtle weight when he pulls it over himself.

It smells like lemons. Which means it smells like ectoplasm. The raw, pure kind that he eats to get energy back, and not the kind that hurts. It smells like the home he wants: safe, kind, accepting. And if he closes his eyes and heaves a sigh so heavy that it means he’s going to take a long nap, no one is going to attack him.

Danny hates waking up from naps with a headache. The one he was sporting was intense enough to make him pinch his forehead and shut his eyes in response to the bright light coming from outside the window above his bed.

But in spite of that, he sits up and straightens his clothes. He stops for a brief second when he forgets where he is, but sighs once he remembers. Alicia, his housemate for the next week, said something about waiting in the living room for him, right? He feels bad for making her wait, but it couldn’t be that long since he nodded off, could it?

However when Danny looks out the window again, it seems brighter than it did when he fell asleep, not darker. How long was he out?

He stretches his legs when he stands, cracking his back when he fixes that area of pain too. His neck still hurts, and his headache isn’t going away, but he can’t keep someone waiting. Of course, just because she showed him where the living room is doesn’t keep him from accidentally wandering down the wrong end of the hallway and ending up at what looks like his aunt’s bedroom.

The door is wide open, and he can’t help the curiosity to peek.

It’s a cramped room. It isn’t messy or cluttered, it’s just not a very big room. The wooden bed frame in itself takes up most of the space, standing in the center pressed up against the back wall. The red curtains are pulled together, making for dim lighting, but Danny can still see fine with ghostly night vision.

Her room is…homey. Comfortable more than useful. The opposite of his parents. They have weapons and storage safes, a work desk for each of them, and even a mini fridge that houses more ectoplasm-filled test tubes than food.

Alicia’s looks more like a normal persons’ room. A stain-free dresser, a closet that isn’t barred shut or broken, and even a standing mirror that hasn’t a single crack on it. Her room reminds Danny of Jazz’s. It almost feels like he’s back home, chatting with her late at night when both of them should be sleeping.

He turns and quietly shuts the door on his way to the living room. When he gets there he lingers in the doorway. Alicia is there, and she looks like she’s waiting for him, but she’s doing something Danny is familiar with. Her hands hold a delicately small needle attached to a black thread, which she’s using to weave through a sheet of fabric.

His dad does something like this every once in a while. When he’s waiting for something to finish in the lab or just needs to relax. Cross...something?

“Well don’t be shy, c’mon in.” Alicia catches his eye and pats the seat next to her. He takes her gesture and sits down. “It’s a good morning to do some work.”

Morning? Jeez, he must have slept hard if it’s already morning.

When he doesn’t know how to respond she just continues her work. He watches. It seems simple enough, but the sewing motion seems like it would be tiring after a while. How does she do this for what must be hours?

“You know I was the one who taught that oaf my sister calls a husband how to cross stitch?” Alicia keeps working, but Danny’s eyes falter from it to instead look at her.

“You taught my dad to do this kind of stuff?”

“Mhm. Took him awhile, but he got the hang of it.” She nods. “He needed to do something about those ansty hands of his.”

His dad did always seem a bit nervous when he couldn’t work with his hands.

“Seems it might run in the family.”

When Alicia gently puts her warm hand on Danny’s, he first notices the shaking in his fingers, then the slight bouncing of his leg. He stops both of those things with a frown, even though she probably isn’t judging him for it one bit.

“I’m not exactly an arts-and-crafts person.” He defends, deepening his frown.

“Don’t need to be, hun.” She sets her work down on the couch and stands, offering a hand for him to do the same. “Would you like to meet some friends of mine?”

“Friends?” He asks. She merely nods and walks towards the back door after helping him up.

On the way to follow her, Danny sees her grab a little wooden box from the shelf next to the door. Curious, he trails behind her. The door squeaks and creaks in his ears when it opens, but it isn’t halted. When he steps down the tiny drop of a few stairs, he gets a good look at the pale wooden fence surrounding her backyard. It’s tarnished by years of rain, snow, and biting winter winds, but it still stands proudly.

Most noticeably is the giant wooden box in the corner of her yard, pressed against the fence. It doesn’t seem to have as much wear, signaling that maybe it hadn’t been around as long as the house itself.

There's what looks like a ramp coming out from a square hole in the front of the box, and for the life of himself Danny can’t figure out what it is. Nor can he figure out what the strange noises are doing in there too.

“What’s that for?” Danny peeks around her side as she leads him closer to it.

She chuckles and opens the box, setting the lid down on the ground. Without using her fingers this time, she lets out a tuneful whistle. Danny can hear the distant sound of a dog barking, and he laughs quietly, decidedly not ready for round two with Winona.

It’s quiet for a moment, but then Danny can finally understand what the noises are when three proud chickens shuffle from out of the door. The first, a mix of black and brown, shoves its way out, pushing past the other two. The second, fully white like sugar, save for the bit of red around its neck and head, doesn’t seem to mind being shoved, instead taking its time coming out. And the third, white like the second, yet with many stripes of black around its neck, seems like it just woke up and only came out to not be alone.

Alicia takes her fingers and scoops up a generous portion of what looks like seed from inside the box, sprinkling it across her lawn. The chickens had locked eyes with her hand when she grabbed their food, and by the time it was in the air, had already scattered to eat as quickly as possible.

She walks up to one, the first, and leans down. She nods her head down at the chicken, gesturing for Danny to follow. When he steps closer the chicken stops eating for a moment, staring at him, but then decides it doesn’t care about him.

“This is Colla.” Alicia reaches down and gently carrasses the chicken's neck. It barely even looks at her as it pecks the ground. “She’s a bit of a stubborn girl, but she’s nice to people she likes.”

Danny leans down, but decides he doesn’t want to test if this chicken likes him. Hand pecking wasn’t something he was looking forward to if it didn’t.

Alicia gently coaxes the second one over, and the third follows after it, not wanting to be left out.

She pets the back of the second one’s neck. “This is Tali.” She reaches and does the same for the third. “And this is Ajaj.”

“Oh...Uhm. Ok.” Danny doesn’t really know what to do in this kind of situation, but Alicia takes his hand and gently places it on Tali’s neck. She briefly stops eating, but decides she doesn’t mind him after all.

With a little encouragement he begins to stroke her. She’s soft in a kind of weird way. Like a smooth pebble. He can almost feel her heartbeat when his hand lingers for long enough. It’s relaxing, in a strange way. It’s almost like petting a dog or a cat, but different in so many ways. It kind of reminds Danny of the little blob ghosts that pop up in his room sometimes.

Docile usually, but even though some have a temper most don’t mind a little affection. They were kind of squishy, yet had a rigidity to them if you poked too much. Chickens were very different from ghosts, but something about this reminded him of the lovable blobs.

Then Alicia picks Tali up, gently pinning the chicken to her chest. “Would you like to hold her?”

Danny stutters for a moment, but composes himself. “Yeah, sure.”

Even though her hands are calloused, she had such gentleness to her movements that Tali barely notices the transferring of holding. Alicia moves Danny’s hands so that he’s pushing ever so gently down on her wings.

“Remember to pin the wings.” She instructs him.

He feels like he’s doing it wrong, but Alicia is smiling at him in such a kind way that he feels comfortable smiling back. After Danny had set her down, and after all the other chickens decided they were done eating, they scurried back into the box, settling down once more in their shed.

“Well that was…” Danny mumbles. “An experience.”

He feels...strangely lonely now that his hands are empty.

When Alicia makes him sit at her dinner table to eat lunch together, Danny can’t help but fall into a quiet rut. Meals weren’t fun at his house; They were for his parents to ask (interrogate) about school and friends, and anything else Danny didn’t want to talk about.

But his aunt just sets down a plate with two turkey sandwiches, some weird, black berries, and a tall glass of water in front of him and takes her seat across from him. She briefly puts her hands together in prayer, but starts eating her meal when she’s done.

He can’t help but stare a little bit. He was almost waiting for any sign that the food was contaminated, or that it was about to bite back at her. She notices him staring, but merely smiles, closes her eyes, and continues chewing slowly.

When nothing weird happens, he picks up his sandwich. It doesn’t stare back, doesn’t smile, and doesn’t grow arms or legs. Of course not. It’s just a sandwich. It doesn’t do anything. It’s not meant to. Not normally anyway.

He takes a careful bite of the squishy, white bread and savory meat. Nothing happens. Nothing except the delicious taste of mustard hitting his tongue. He hums pleasantly, surprised at how good it is. He takes another bite and he can taste how much effort this must have taken to make.

Is it homemade?

By the time he notices his surroundings again, both sandwiches are gone, and so are the berries. They leave a subtle, tangy aftertaste on his palette, but are actually pretty tasty. He gulps down the glass of water just as quickly, forcing the last of the aftertaste down with the rest of his meal.

For once the food isn’t just non-sentient, it’s good.

“Ya ever chopped wood?” Alicia’s finished plate is being picked up, and so is his. She sets both in the sink with a quiet clatter.

Danny forces down what would be a very loud, very rude burp. “Like with an axe?”

“Exactly with an axe.” She nods, and Danny gets up to follow her out the front door. ��Feel like learning somethin’ new?”

He’s already halfway onto her porch before he says, “I don’t mind.”

She takes him outside, to where he had first seen the stump and logs tucked away from her house. It almost feels intimidating when she yanks the wooden axe from the wood and shifts it to rest in her hand. The way she clutches it made him a little uncomfortable.

He shivers and imagines his mom lining up a swing on his wrist, held down by her own tight grip.

With Alicia’s free hand she sets up the cut edge of a log to rest on top of the stump. Even though there are slits in the tree, it still stands straight. She turns to Danny and shows him how she’s holding the weapon.

“Don’t grip it too tight.” She instructs. “But keep a good handle on it and never swing down at your feet.”

Danny would have thought that would be obvious, but the solid chop that rings out when she swings down and lands squarely on the log tells him that this is something familiar to her. It takes a few swings until it splits, but she stops and rips the rest apart with her hands instead of lining up another swing like he would have thought to do.

He’s almost impressed. He had only ever seen that kind of strength from his dad. Like when he’s handling weapons bigger than Danny’s entire body. Or when he lifts the kinds of machinery they keep in the lab.

Or when he was squeezing Phantom’s throat so hard he choked on his own spit.

Next thing he knows Alicia’s handing the axe to him. He tries to shake off his visions as, again, she instructs him how to hold it properly. He figures out a comfortable position and she takes a log from the pile of several others and lines it up for him.

“Take your time if you’re not comfortable.” She adds, seeming like she’s trying to calm his visible nerves. “But don’t be afraid to give it a good wackin’.”

After finding a comfortable position he takes the swing. The log doesn’t chop nearly as far down as it did with Alicia, but it still gives way for his effort. He turns to her, almost seeking approval, and she nods with a smile. So he does it again, this time gaining more room farther down. After a third it splits clean in half. The axe briefly gets stuck in the stump, but he pulls it out with ease.

Alicia grabs and roughly chucks the split logs to the side, tumbling off of hers and onto the ground. She quickly sets up another for him to cut. He does, this time easier than the last. And when he's done with that, she sets up another. And another. And another. Until every log was done and the pile of cut ones grew so high that he’s afraid of scraping his knee should he get too close.

He feels the sweat drip off of his forehead and stick to his hair. He’s panting, genuinely exhausted from the work. The axe nearly slips from his hand, his fingers tired and strained from his deathly grip. Alicia pats his back as he catches his breath, taking the axe from him and sticking it back in the tree.

“Ya did great for your first time.” She compliments him with a friendly smile. She then gives him a knowing look. “It feels good, don’t it?”

He clenches his hand. Now he understands why her hands were rough to the touch. But more than that, she’s right. It feels great. It’s a chance to work out that isn’t being chased or hunted, or even in a fight he doesn’t want to be in. He’s not being shot at or burned, yet he gets to feel relieved and calm after he’s done.

“Yeah.” He breathes deeply. “It feels good.”

By the time Danny had caught his second wind, Alicia was doing something in the kitchen while he held his (at this point nearly dead) phone to his ear in his bedroom.

“She made you chop wood?” Tucker seems offended at the mere idea of doing manual labor.

“Yeah it was awesome!” Danny smiles fondly while gently picking the frays on his blanket. “I think you’d like it, Sam.”

“And you said she has chickens?” Sam’s voice rises in caution.

“She has three. Colla, Tali, and Ajaj.” He lists off the three musketeers on his fingers. “I think you’d like Colla. She's feisty.”

“My kind of girl.” Sam approves. “And they’re treated well?”

“Seems that way.” Danny shrugs. “It’s clear she loves them a lot, and they’re really comfortable around her.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Sam says, then shifts her phone to her other ear. “Things have been really calm around here. Skulker showed up this morning, and then we caught the Box Ghost stealing some cardboard from the storage room in Mr. Faluca’s classroom, but nothing big has happened since you left.”

Danny sighs in relief. “Good. Hopefully the ghosts don’t realize I’m gone yet.”

“Even when they do, we’ll be there to stop them.” Tucker seems confident as always. “So you don’t have to worry about a thing, dude.”

“And I’ll call you tomorrow to update you on anything that happens.” Sam adds.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Danny says back, letting out a breathy laugh. “I miss you guys already.”

“We miss you too.” Sam replies at the same time Tucker says, “Don’t miss me too bad.”

Danny laughs again. His phone chimes in his ear. “My phone is yelling at me to charge it so I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow, ok?”

“See you then, bro!” Tucker ends his side of the call.

Sam doesn’t end right away, instead letting the silence between them grow.

“You ok, Sam?”

“Ah, I’m alright.” Her melancholy tone states otherwise. “I just...I’m worried something bad is going to happen to you.”

“You know me, Sam. Nothing can hurt me.” Danny says to her, trying to ease her thoughts.

“We both know that isn’t true.” Her argument is weak when it comes out, but it sounds more worried than anything else. “Promise me you’ll come home safe.”

“I solemnly swear to come home unharmed.” He swears to himself as much as to her. “And when I get back the three of us can get tofu ice cream together.”

“You know Tucker would throw a fit at the idea of that.” Sam giggles a little bit, and Danny’s heart soares.

“I know, but I still swear to come back to you perfectly safe.” He says, then sighs tiredly at his phone’s incessant chimes. “I really do need to charge my phone, though.”

“Alright, but don’t you forget about me.”

“I never could.”

She giggles again, earning a smile from his cheeks. “Goodbye Sam. I’ll see you in a week.”

“Goodbye Danny.”

Danny ends up just ditching his phone on his bed when he’s unable to find the charger he swears he packed in his backpack. He could always dig through it later. It wasn’t like he couldn’t talk to Sam and Tucker tomorrow when he eventually found it.

The kitchen clatters around with noise when he steps out of his room, so he wanders there instead of hanging out somewhere else. He leans his head into the doorway and catches his aunt standing in front of the counter, slicing a lemon on a wooden board.

There’s a few moments, when she is setting things aside, or when she’s wiping down the board, where she hums. It’s not beautiful, but it’s comforting in a subtle way. He listens for a bit, but decides not to intrude on a private moment any longer.

“What’re you making?” He comes out as if he just arrived, stepping towards her work space.

“Lemonade.” She doesn’t look up from her knife until she sets the halved lemon into the partially filled bowl along with the others. “You wouldn’t mind helping an old lady, would you?”

He knows she’s his mom’s age, and his mom still kicked butt like she was twenty. “I don’t see one around here, but I don’t mind helping you anyway.”

She smirks. “Ya sure do have a sly tongue.” Then she gestures at the bowl. “Go on and start juicin’.”

But Danny takes one look at her workstation and doesn’t know where to start. She’s busy slicing and setting aside more lemons, but there’s an empty glass pitcher in front of him. Clearly she wants him to squeeze the juice out of the lemons, but he isn’t sure how to.

She must have seen his confusion because she grabs a fork from a drawer, takes a lemon half, sticks the fork into it, then presses into it while rotating it over the pitcher. It takes only a few seconds, but he gets the idea when she hands him the fork.

Soon they have a groove to their actions, and just as quickly as she slices the last of the lemons, he’s finishing getting the juice of the rest into the pitcher. Though, it’s not as full as he would expect. In his head, lemonade was just lemon juice and sugar, right? He’s corrected just as he opens his mouth to ask when she walks over to her sink and fills the pitcher nearly to the top with cold water. Carefully, as to not spill, she sets it back on the counter.

Right, it’s lemon juice, sugar, but mostly water.

“Mind grabbin’ the sugar from up there?” She directs him to a cabinet up and to his right.

He hesitates and almost uses his levitation to reach higher when he can’t quite get there. After a bit of struggle, he manages to tip the mason jar of sugar out from the shelf and into his hands. “This?”

“Mhm.” She takes it from his hands, unscrews the lid, and eyeballs a pour of it into the pitcher. “Thank you kindly.”

When they finish mixing everything together with a wooden spoon she procured from her drawers, she leads the both of them out to her porch. He follows her lead when she sits down on her bench, both with cool glasses of fresh lemonade.

And when she asks him about his life, he feels perfectly fine responding. Usually it was with some malice when his family asks about what he does in his (incredibly limited) spare time, but with her it’s...comfortable. She doesn’t mean anything negative when she can only nod at his explanation of video games. There’s no motive behind questioning his friends, and what they like and do.

And he doesn’t mean anything bad in return when she explains how she grows her own food and he can only ask question after question. She isn’t just “blabbering on” when she talks about the townsfolk she’s friends with, like her neighbor Jasper and his brothers

For once, his life isn’t just about surviving, it’s about living.

He honestly doesn’t know how long they stay there and talk. Their glasses warm up from the summer heat so much the ice has melted and the sun has set. He’s gotten so used to her soothing voice that he has trouble remembering his own mothers’.

With Alicia he can just relax. He doesn’t have to fear for his life, or even worry about keeping Amity safe. For once, things are good. And he almost wishes he could stay here forever.

So when he has to leave at the end of the week, and she brings him to the airport, backpack in tow, he feels a bit of longing. To stay. To grow up alongside her. To forget about his life back home.

But he does have to go. He has friends and family back home, and Alicia wasn’t ready to care for a teenager for the rest of her life.

It’s only when he’s given her a goodbye hug, and a promise to visit every summer, that he sits on the airplane and remembers his other promise: to call Sam and Tucker. He shivers with worry for a moment, but ends up just shrugging off his nerves, taking to staring out the plane window quickly leaving town.

When his goosebumps don’t calm right away, he sighs and decides to keep spacing off in spite of it. He was just being paranoid, like always. Everything was fine.

Because if something was wrong they would have called first. Right?

When Amity Park falls, no one is safe.

There’s a little girl, huddled with her brother in an empty warehouse, both shivering from the cold drafts. She whimpers, but schools herself into being quiet and holding onto him tighter.

There’s a hunter with flaming hair after the both of them. He promises to cut their throats if he gets close enough, so they run and hide, and pray that he doesn’t find them. Her new dress is stained with dirt and dust and her fingers are so cold she thinks they might freeze off. But she knows better than to let go of her brother, because when there’s a shapeshifter around, letting go can put an imposter in his place in seconds. She knows better than to wish for help, because the ghost who grants you anything you want is wicked to those who beg for her help.

She doesn’t even have the time to wonder where her parents are, because the last time she saw them, her mothers were shoving the two of them into the place they hide now just as soon as the great purple dragon was distracted from his playthings.

She hears noises outside. Horrible noises. She wishes she were deaf and didn't have to hear people screaming and crying and dying.

She saw it when she was running: Two people, children just a bit older than them, who fight off the ghosts and save as many people as they can. They have guns and weapons and tools to fight, but even they can’t last. Not when they're just as hurt as the people they protect. Not when there's only two of them. Not while the hunt for survivors continues.

And the little girl cries into her dampened sleeves and hopes she is saved soon.

Because when the beloved protector of Amity leaves, no one is safe.

#2021 holiday truce #phandom holiday truce #pisceshi

35 notes · View notes

takuyakistall · 4 years ago

Text

summary: a mountain deity meets a suspicious eel.

length: 5k+

taku’s notes: ah, I finally posted this. It was meant to be posted for a previous milestone but it was delayed, but here it is now jbhjfb I may have gotten carried away with this when I first thought of the AU;;; also !! special thanks to ghostie and rui for helping me with this. If you see this, ily !! this also a three way collab with sven and @xxunrxvelingxx !! please check out their fics when they post it hehe~ they’ll be making separate fics that will go along with our agreed theme which is legends and myths from our home countries. In my case, this was inspired by the story of Maria Makiling!

"I have provided you everything the mountain has to offer and yet you greedy humans still want more?“ The thunder boomed, matching your footsteps as you made your way to sit on a log stool. Crossing your legs, you said, “I’ve had enough of you humans trying to steal my valuables.” Rain suddenly started to pour down, soaking the four men standing in front of the mountain deity.

They were shaking in fear as they saw the look you were giving them, they heard that you were usually a gentle and kind person who had never laid a hand on the village folk who lived on the mountain. They scrambled to their feet, with pitiful expressions on their faces as they desperately tried to run away. You made no effort to chase them as you already knew there was no way they would make it back alive. This mountain is your domain, surely they would get lost and stay trapped here forever.

You were usually a kind being but you would spare no mercy for those who enter the mountain with malicious intentions. The locals knew better than to do that but — unfortunately, those men who tried to steal from you were foreigners.

Your rage didn’t go away instead, it had gotten stronger. The rain was getting heavier, a flood was ready to form and an earthquake was about to start. There was no room for the village folk inside your head, your rage had overruled every moral you once upheld. It was cruel of you to bring these disasters to innocent people — however, nobody would dare to cross you ever again. They knew that angering a deity was never a bright idea, especially if they still had plans to live.

“Hah… Foolish humans..! Always scurrying around, striving to attack me and rob me of my riches. In the end, they’ll just meet their doom.”

There was something off about the man who entered the mountain. It seemed like he was struggling to walk. The rage you felt days ago has now disappeared and you felt the need to help the struggling man. You jumped off a tree branch you were sitting on to get a better look on his face — heterochromic eyes, it was unusual to see those around here, especially when you had isolated yourself in the mountains. He had teal hair with a darker and longer strand framing the left side of his face. He was beautiful, your breath was taken away the moment you laid your eyes upon him.

Then you finally decide to appear in front of him. His senses did not pick up your presence since he was too busy trying to regain his balance. When he finally looked ahead and saw you, his eyes widened and slipped.

“Ah-!” He was about to fall. He still wasn’t used to being able to walk on land, his balance was still sloppy and the way he walked was unnatural. Ever since his tail turned into human legs, he’s been walking aimlessly on land with nothing but a dirty tunic on. He had nobody to teach him about how land folks act or lived, he quickly became an outcast among the villagers by the mountain, which sparked your curiosity.

“..! Be more careful!” You grabbed his hand before he could fall, pulling him up to safety. He finally got a proper look at his saviour and the sight took his breath away. Were you the mountain deity they talked about back in the village? He kept a straight face while trying to connect the dots in his head. Weren’t you the reason he tried to climb the mountain? The blue haired man couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, “Forgive me, it seems that I’m still not accustomed to my newly acquired legs.” He spoke in a gentlemanly manner which surprises you. Maybe it was because of his dirty tunic that you thought he was going to be a bit more rough around the edges. You knew it was bad to judge a book by its cover and yet you still couldn’t help but do it anyway.

“What’s your name?” The cold tone in your voice sent shivers to the man’s spine, surely you had the aura of a deity! He heard the rumours about the gentle and kind lady up in the mountains, but it seemed like you were still kind of ticked off by the last incident he heard about. The man put his hand by his chest and introduced himself with a smile, “I go by Jade, Jade Leech. Would the lovely lady also do the honor of giving me her name?” It was faint but you noticed it — he was dangerous.

It didn’t take long for you to become attached to Jade, he charmed you the moment you met. Your first meeting consisted of you asking Jade a few questions about himself while walking through the woods. You discovered that Jade originally had no legs, thus his lack of ability to be able to walk properly. You offered him help and thankfully, he was a fast learner when provided with guidance. In less than a day, he had already mastered how to walk with his own two legs.

You were bound to the mountain, you could never leave because you are its guardian. Shall you ever try to leave, your body would run out of oxygen and pass. It seems like Jade was a little fond of your company as he went back up in the mountains the following day.

He was still wearing the dirty tunic when he came to visit you today, you had seen this coming so you had a nearby pixie fetch you some clothes for the tall man. When you handed the clothes to him, he couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, he was intimidated by your cold demeanor yesterday but today it seemed like you were finally fitting the positive rumours surrounding you. A kind and gentle lady who would often go to the village to give your blessings. “Thank you,” Jade hummed out, straying far from you to change into the clothes you gave him. You felt your cheeks flare up a bit when he gave you a smile. You couldn’t help but wonder how this blooming friendship of yours would end. After all, he’s just a mortal, isn’t he?

28 days remain.

“Oya, a new mushroom to add my collection.” Jade was delighted as he crouched down to examine the newly found mushrooms on the ground. You mentally compare the current Jade you know to the Jade you first met — it seemed like he was an entirely different person. He picks up land dwellers’ qualities and habits fast and now you wouldn’t even dare think about how this man didn’t know how to walk properly just a week ago!

You tried to introduce him to a lot of things the mountain has to offer and yet somehow, he found himself climbing up the mountain on a daily basis just to see you. The village folk were a bit skeptical due to his odd behavior and at his sudden transformation, but they soon dropped the gossip when someone told them the both of you were lovers. It was a ridiculous thought but you never said anything when you saw how they had treated Jade better.

The more time you spent with him, the more you felt these complicated feelings, like your heart was tied to a knot. The way he smiled at you made it feel like your heart was being squeezed, and the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about mushrooms was simply too adorable! You noticed all the little things about Jade and it made you wonder about how you were going to label these feelings you have for him. You liked to believe that you know everything about the world, but the world loves proving you wrong. You were still naive, even if you are a deity.

21 days remain.

“You’ve gotten better at acting like a land dweller.” Your cold tone made it clear to Jade that something definitely happened to piss you off while he was away. Perhaps it was another human trying to rob you of your riches? Or to take your head as a trophy? No. Jade shook his head at the thought of someone trying to harm you. After all, it is impossible to do so.

For the past few weeks, he has somehow grown accustomed to your sudden coldness and harsh tones. The people that heard of the mountain deity’s treasures have increased and were bold enough to challenge themselves against you. They gathered into groups and shouted out insults directed at you. You had neither time nor patience to deal with every pest that was bold enough to threaten you, so you had the mountain itself deal with them. If they entered the mountain, they would surely get lost and never be seen again due to natural reasons.

The only reason why Jade and a few villagers were able to enter the mountain and get back unharmed is because you let them. The moment you sense malicious intent directed at you — they would be disposed of. You were merciless when it came to matters regarding your life and the state of the mountain. Jade knew that, both of you spent enough time together for him to know these kinds of things. With slow steps, Jade approached you, his usual smile was absent and this surprised you a bit. His expression was serious while cupping your cheek with his bare hands, it was warm. You found yourself rub your cheek against his comforting touch, he knew exactly what you were feeling and this reassured you. Jade pulled back his hand and placed it on your head instead, ruffling your hair a bit, “Have you been resting well?”

Truth be told, you haven’t gotten a wink of sleep ever since the attacks increased. Your guard was always up and a chance to sleep never came. However, when Jade ruffled your hair, every muscle in your body relaxed, you fought the urge to close your eyes. Jade didn’t fail to notice your tired state and sat beside you on the log stool that was big enough to hold the two of you. He made you lean against his broad shoulder while stroking your head, his comforting touch making you go closer and closer to your desired rest. You closed your eyes and drifted into sleep, not hearing Jade’s endearing words “Sleep well, My beloved.”

14 days remain.

“Have you done it yet?” Jade entered his temporary lodging to see a beautiful young woman with long black hair sitting on his bed. Jade’s warm eyes turned cold as he glared at the woman who intruded his home. Jade didn’t bother to put up the gentlemanly act anymore. He lunged forward towards the woman and wrapped his fingers around her neck, lifting her smaller figure up in the air as Jade squeezed her neck. The woman was letting out choked noises as Jade continued to give her a cold glare. “W-Wait!” She managed to let out a word, Jade stopped for a moment. “You still need me, you can’t kill me.” The panicked and pained expression on the woman’s face brought immense pleasure to Jade. Oh how he loathed this woman! Jade was ready to snap her neck, staring coldly into her eyes as he squeezed her neck a bit more before suddenly letting go. The woman fell to the ground, hacking out coughs as she tried to regain oxygen in her system. Jade’s unusual rage has calmed down a bit after thinking rationally, he went into his kitchen and brought out some teacups, “Would you like some tea?”

The sweet aroma filled the cozy house as Jade delicately poured tea into the teacups. The woman sitting across him had a suspicious look, staring at the teacup. “Oh, please go ahead. Don’t be shy.” Jade insisted, an eerily calm smile decorating his face, as though the earlier events hadn’t happened at all. “It’s not poisoned, is it? I know how badly you want me dead but,” the woman pushed away the teacup, crossing her legs and arms as a confident look suddenly decorated her face. “If you still want your precious twin brother to live, I suggest you shouldn’t kill me.” Jade’s gentlemanly smile curled up into a big smirk as he set down his teacup, “And what made you think that I still needed you to do so? You’re basically useless.“

For a moment, the woman shot Jade a terrified look. She knew that Jade was capable of killing her at any given time, she had to think of an excuse to stay alive. “You won’t be able to use the deity’s heart to cure Floyd without me.” It was true. Even if Jade has gotten the deity’s heart right in his palms, he wouldn’t be able to use it to treat Floyd’s condition. Jade frowned upon hearing the words ‘deity’s heart’. It was the only reason why Jade approached you, he was skillful in deceiving others and masking his true intentions. Though it seemed like his mask was slowly breaking the more time he spent with you. It was true that he was fond of you — very fond but Jade wouldn’t allow himself to admit the feelings he held for you.

If he ever admitted to himself that he fell in love with you, it would just pain him more thinking about the cruel acts he was about to commit. “I’m close to obtaining her heart. Once I get my hands on it, we’re going back to the Coral Sea immediately.” His monotonous voice scared the woman a bit, how could he be so calm when he’s about to betray a deity? “Got it, witch?” Jade coldly asked the woman. The said woman snapped out of her daze and refuted, “Don’t call me that, I told you, my name is-"

"Do I look like I care?”

7 days remain.

“Dancing? When did you learn how to dance, Jade?” Jade only let out a mere chuckle as you gave him a curious glance. You looked better than before — the color of your face was slowly coming back thanks to Jade. His presence soothed you and you couldn’t help but let your guard down — you trust him. It has only been a month since the two of you met but you would already trust him with your life. What is this feeling…? What did humans call it again? Attachment..? Or was it fondness…or love? You didn’t know the answer. The moonlight shined upon both of your figures sitting down on the grass. “Do you underestimate me that much?” A teasing smirk appeared on his face, you panicked for a moment because deep down, you actually did underestimate him a bit. You looked away from him, a light hue of pink dusting your cheeks. Shame rising up from the pit of your stomach.

“Oh my, it seems like I’ve gotten my answer. It’d be a lie if I said I wasn’t disappointed.” Jade faked tears, wiping them away dramatically as you giggled at his actions. Jade stood up from the grass, his polite smile never disappearing from his face. Even though he gave everyone that smile, you couldn’t help but feel like there was an underlying tone of feelings and affection he held for you. Yet, you brushed it off like it was nothing — still denying the fact that you were indeed falling in love with him. Jade outstretched his hand towards you, trying to help you up. At that moment, you couldn’t help but think that you were becoming so helpless around him.

Hesitantly, you took his hand as he helped you up to your feet. You stumbled forward a bit and lost your footing, almost falling had it not been for Jade who catched you before you fell. “Careful!” He warned you, wrapping his arms around your figure as you steadied your balance. You could feel his heart beating, you closed your eyes and allowed your head to lean into his chest — listening to nothing but the beat of his heart. Is this what it means to fall in love? Jade was taken aback for a moment, he didn’t expect you to suddenly rest your head against his chest while standing up. He let out a sigh as he wrapped his arms tighter around you, his gaze filled with an unexplainable fondness. Oh how he wished this moment lasted forever.

3 days remain

It was dangerous and weak of you to allow yourself to be comforted by the presence of a mere mortal, even the forest pixies told you this themselves. It was a huge mess in the mountains when Jade wasn’t here. You suddenly felt sad at the thought of the earlier events.

“Lady (Y/N)! Forgive our insolence but we are begging you to cut ties with that mortal.” the pixies bowed down, they didn’t dare to look into your eyes — fear evident in their expressions. The pixie who talked to you, Daphne, was the wisest of the bunch — she had stayed in the mountain for far longer than you have. It was safe to say that she was wiser than you but the one who holds the most power was you — the mountain deity. Daphne didn’t have a single hint of fear on her face as she held her head up high, her blue locks tucked behind her pointed ear as she stared at you.

Rage coursed through every part of your body as your harmless gaze at them suddenly turned hostile. The gravity suddenly weighed down on all of them, forcing them onto their knees except Daphne. Had it not been for her power she accumulated during the years she had lived, she would be most likely on her knees as well. “What did you just say, Daphne?” Your mind wasn’t in its best state due to the responsibilities you had to fulfill doubled, every living being in the mountain knew that and they could see how stressed you were through the mountain’s state. They noticed how the mountain would flourish a little whenever a certain teal haired mortal decided to visit you, they knew that he was a double edged sword to their deity. Though they knew that he was a potential threat to you, when they saw how happy you looked when you’re with him, they couldn’t help but let the both of you be.

“That mortal man named Jade- He’s not what you think he is.” Daphne calmly responded, she’d been suspicious of him from the very beginning. Those words made the raging flames in your heart burn stronger. You knew deep inside that she was right. You knew he held ill intent from the moment you first met yet you just- You just blindly ignored it like the fool you were. Yet you were reminded of the way he called you his beloved when he thought you were fast asleep, it was one of your sweetest memories with him. You can’t allow yourself to believe that the gentle fondness in his voice that night was all fake.

“He’s after your heart.”

Those words pierced you right through the heart, uncontrollable tears suddenly forming at the corner of your eyes. You wanted to tell them that he was a good man, that he loved you. Your gaze dropped down to the ground, unable to say anything. The mountain spoke for you. The flowers were withering at a lightning fast speed and so did the trees. The wild animals, some died and some were dying. The waters were drying up, and the ground was ready to collapse any time soon. You wanted to cry. Memories of last night came flooding back. The way he held you so close to him, when you listened to his heartbeat? It was all an act to get your heart?

Daphne wasn’t telling her the whole story, she just wanted Jade gone. She left out the part about Jade’s brother because she knew that being the lovesick fool you were — you would gladly give up your heart to him. She decided to fan the flames, “I… also saw a black haired woman in his house.” Daphne cringed at herself, she couldn’t believe what she was about to say. She glanced at your forlorn expression before continuing, “I think she might be his lover.” Everything seemed to stop at that very moment. You stopped wasting your tears, the thunder clapped. Daphne knew she messed up when she saw your expression — filled with burning rage.

“It’s for his dying brother.” A small pixie speaked out, receiving a harsh glare from Daphne when she did.

“Flora! You…!”

Everything stopped for a moment, you held a confused expression on your face as you signalled the small pixie named Flora to inch closer to you. You had hope that everything wasn’t a lie. There was nothing more you’ve ever wanted. You desperately wanted to believe that Jade wasn’t a cold blooded jerk that only approached you for your heart. “Tell me about his brother.” Your weak commanding tone made Flora’s heart shatter into pieces, she could tell how much pain you were in. Meekly, Flora started to explain to you the things she saw and heard when she went to follow Jade to the village; the black haired woman who was waiting for him at his home, the way how Jade choked her, the hateful expression on his face, the things they discussed over tea, and how Jade needed your heart to cure his poisoned twin brother. Flora didn’t leave out the fact that the woman with Jade was actually the one who poisoned his brother and how there were only a few days left before Jade goes back to his hometown.

You were oddly happy. Happy by the fact that everything might not turn out to be a lie and that the Jade you were so fond of was real. Though you were laughable, you were an idiot in love. Love…? Is this what they call this feeling? You loved Jade to the point that you forgave him. Even if he didn’t confess himself, you were willing to forgive him over and over again. You were a fool. The biggest fool in the whole damn mountain. Though if it was for Jade, the man who taught you love and the first man you ever loved, you didn’t mind being called a lovesick fool who ruined her own life.

2 days left

Jade was running out of time, he could feel his lungs having difficulty trying to breathe as he climbed the mountain. The potion was wearing off and he needed to get your heart and return to the sea now — but he didn’t want to leave, he didn’t want his time with you to end just yet. He wanted more time with you. However, his brother comes first before anything else, including you. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he just abandoned Floyd just like that — it would be unacceptable. Jade’s heart was in deep turmoil as he took a step after the other, why didn’t he.. want to leave you? He stopped in his tracks, his hand clutching his chest tightly as he felt like his heart was being squeezed. He didn’t want to admit it — he would never. If he did, he would never be able to go back to the sea. He continued walking towards your usual meeting area.

The frown on his face immediately lightened up into a small smile when he saw your figure fiddling with a bunch of leaves. As he went closer, he could notice that you were crying. He kneeled down next to you and asked, “…Are you okay?” gently, Jade tried to place his hand on your shoulder as a form of comfort. You flinched, moving back a bit from his touch and accidentally hitting your head against a tree branch in the process. Jade quickly tried to pull you close to him to inspect what might be a wound on your head. Yet you- you desperately tried to avoid any form of contact with him, your lips sealed shut as you walked away from him to sit on a stone stool. Jade’s heart broke a little.

You were still trying to compose yourself, tomorrow was your last day with him. You could already see him getting paler and weaker, his withdrawals were getting worse. You needed to think of something, anything. You were going to let him go today, he can have more time to go back to the sea. So he can live. Yet a huge part of you is screaming ‘Don’t!’ You felt weak and afraid, you didn’t know what choice to make but deep down you knew what was the right decision. Mustering up enough courage, your breath shaky, you spoke up. “Jade."

Jade had never heard you sound so helpless, your voice was shaking, eyes brimming with tears. What happened to you? It was a bit of a shock, for you to call out his voice with such a painfully sad expression on your face. He wanted to know how he could make you feel better, he was about to wrap his arms around you again but he quickly retracted his arm when he remembered how you reacted earlier. So he kept his distance. "Yes…?” He anticipated your next words, hands shaking — his body was slowly turning back. He needed water but he forced himself to stay still and endure the painful withdrawal that came with it.

You clasped your hands together, muttering a short chant under your breath as something in between your hands started to glow. A single shard of what seemed to be like a gemstone — a piece of jade. It was your heart, clearly influenced by your undeniable feelings for this man you met less than a month ago. Your jaded heart, it was what Jade was after all this time. Once it was in your hands, you clasped it tightly one more time before facing Jade. Tears blurring your vision, “Just… take it.”

Jade’s blood went cold, how…? Did you finally figure out his true intentions? Are you mad? Countless questions popped up inside his mind and his heart rate going faster by the second as he tried to make sense of the situation. Will he lie one more time? Or will he grab the golden opportunity in front of him? Before he could make a decision, he abandoned all sense of reason and pulled you into a passionate kiss. You were caught off guard, yet you kissed him back without any hint of hesitation at all. Your faces so close — your tears started to mix and you didn’t want to let go of him. Neither did he. After pulling away from your heated kiss, he finally managed to mutter out the words he was so afraid of saying.

“I love you.”

1 day remains

The cool breeze caressed Jade’s cheek as he ran through the forest, your heart grasped tightly in his hand as he desperately gasped for air. He needed to get back, now. The black haired woman from the other day was already ahead of him, looking back occasionally at Jade to make sure he wasn’t dead from the withdrawal symptoms. Memories of last night weighed so much in Jade’s mind, he felt like he was choking as he ran — his legs heavy as he started to sweat more than usual. Yet he didn’t stop running, you gave him this chance to let him and his brother live and he was not about to let it go to waste. He ran and ran and ran until he could finally see the sea.

Jade immediately jumped into the water, taking in the familiar feeling of being submerged in water once again — not once did his grip loosen around your heart. He allowed himself to breathe for a moment, letting the transformation take its place as his legs turned into a tail. He was slowly letting himself sink to the bottom of the sea, nobody could tell that he was crying from the wet environment of the sea.

One look at Jade and you can immediately tell that he was empty, void of emotion as he stared at your heart — placing a gentle kiss on it as he muttered under his breath, “Perhaps in another life, we could be lovers once again."

This is a story about how a foolish mountain deity sacrificed her heart, the very core of her being, to a mere mortal. A story about how cruel fate can be, and how it ruined them. The ending? The mountain deity fell into an eternal slumber after giving her heart up to her lover, unable to wake up after hundreds of years. The mortal man cured his brother and lived a somewhat happy life, longing to see his beloved deity once again on land and was killed after multiple attempts of going to land.

Perhaps things would’ve been different if they made different choices, perhaps they’d be happily living as a couple now but fate is not so nice, no? There is no happy ending for this disastrous pair, only ruin awaits them if they were to ever meet again in their next lives. They were both fools in the end.

"Eh~? Jade, Jade~! Did you hear about the transfer student coming today?” Floyd made grabby hands at Jade, excitement bubbling up from the pit of his stomach, will he find another person to squeeze? Jade let out a sigh, seemingly uninterested in the topic but decided to entertain Floyd. “Yes, it does make me feel a bit excited, fufu~”

The class silenced down so quickly, your footsteps towards the class stage could be heard.

“Hello everyone, my name is (Y/N) (L/N)! Nice to meet you all!"

Jade’s eyes gleamed with growing intrigue, why did you seem familiar to him in some way? He didn’t dwell on that for long though, he just decided that if fate decided to make you a part of his life, then so be it.

And it begins all over again.

#self indulgent takoyaki #hahaha more jade #twst writing #twst #twst x reader #angst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland jade #jade leech x reader #twst jade #jade #jade leech #fem!reader

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acknowledgetheabsurd · 3 years ago

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“Saturday night 10:00 a.m. [September 10, 1949]

My darling love, I just arrived, I went from the Vaucluse in the sun to these harsh plateaus, I left the shorts for the jacket. I live here in a sort of fortified farmhouse five kilometers from the nearest village. No running water, wooden floors, ceilings with visible beams, and through all the windows horizons of black fir trees. I spent months and months here in the fall, winter and spring of 1943. I came down only once in 1943 and that was to go to Paris where I saw Deirdre des Douleurs. I lived in absolute solitude, sick and very poor. The memories I left here are not happy ones.

I was in a tragic mood, and it was that mood, I think, that I found again when I arrived there tonight. I was also thinking about you all the way here, thinking that I would be out of touch until Tuesday or Wednesday, and that I was beginning not to be able to bear these delays anymore from you to me. If you were with me a lot of things would change. I would show you this country, the woods where I used to walk with my dogs, the heights where I used to sit and look out over the sea, the pilgrimage of a loneliness that was once lost in you.

It's true, you know. Since that time I have never been alone. Even when I was separated from you, something was inside me. Another being existed in this world with whom I was united, in spite of him then, and today in spite of the whole earth. Tonight, I found myself in this silent room where I work and live apart (it is in a kind of square tower) and I found you again with an intensity, a suffering, and a joy so present, so carnal, that it hurts me.

What are you doing tonight, at this very moment? The moon here is rising behind the trees and the night is cold and wonderful. My love, what a call to you! I'm worried again. During all these days in Paris I let myself go towards you totally, too tired to think, only able to feel you, to touch you, to caress in me an unspeakable happiness. I was happy, happy as I had never been. Here, anxiety comes back and the fear, the panic of losing you also comes back in waves. But I tell myself that I must rest and sleep, that you need my strength too.

I shouldn't have written to you tonight, by the way, and I'll take this letter back in the morning. But I felt a heart so full of memories and desires, so agitated by you, that I had to talk to you a little, as I would like to do, lips to lips, sometimes detaching myself to look at your wonderful face of consent. Ah, my darling, how I need only one sign from you to live.

Sunday afternoon 5:30 p.m. [September 11, 1949] I went to bed yesterday after writing to you. I slept until 8 o'clock. I got up and went back to bed. I read. I slept again until lunch. After lunch I went back to bed. I slept till 4:00 again. Sleepyheaded, also heavy with bad dreams, I went for a walk in the woods. And then I had to come back to you. When you receive this letter, another week will separate us. It's more than I can bear and I've decided not to extend my stay beyond that: I'll be back on the 20th. Until then I'll try to sleep all the time.

I feel empty-hearted and it seems to me that I can do nothing better than wait in my sleep to find the happiness that has been mine these last few days. I do not live in illusion. I know that the sweetness, the wisdom you have given me are conquests and that they may be compromised. But I have chosen you, and you alone. And everything I live near you is better, even in the worst case, than a life far from you.

I'm also gonna try to work on a piecemeal basis. It'll already be working with you. But I don't feel any work force - only a great restlessness of sensibility. Maybe that's what it takes now, by the way, to improve the piece. Just don't say you don't want to do it, like you did the other night. Stay with me everywhere. Even if we fight, that's fine. Let's fight, and then smile like you know how, with that smile I love to kiss. Yes, I'm going home. You'll be here, you won't have changed. Two or three more days before I have a letter, and I can write with the certainty that I don't now have the previous sentence! Another two or three days to go crazy. For it is an inner delirium that this constant thought, this monologue, this deaf deprivation! I'm crazy, I'm afraid. But sleep will fix everything.

A cold wind has risen. The day turns gently on these cold and hostile plateaus. Loneliness also tastes awful at times. Write, write especially. Don't forget that your letter takes three trains and a bus to get here, two or three days in all. Don't forget that two or three days here are longer than in Paris and tell me about Paris, your days, your work, the evening hour, your thoughts before sleep. I'm waiting for you and I love you and I kiss you without measure, my love.”

- Albert Camus to Maria Casarès, Correspondance, September 10-11, 1949 [#89]

#albert camus #camus #absurd #absurdism #maria casares #correspondance #love letters #love #sun #solitude #earth #silent #silence #sleep #desire #smile

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magicalicefairy · 3 years ago

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𝔹𝕖𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕄𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔸𝕘𝕖𝕤 - ᛒᛖᛃᛟᚾᛞ᛫ᛗᛃᚦᛋ᛫ᚨᚾᛞ᛫ᚨᚷᛖᛋ

Chapter 2 “Memories”

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornsson x OC / Tyr x Persephone

Warnings: strong language

Word Count: 2.7

Chapter 1 AO3 Wattpad

"Ros!" I shouted through the golden fields of the Elysium. "Ros, where are you?" I looked around nervously. Where was that dog again? I let my gaze wander through the distance and couldn't see my dog anywhere. Well, he'll be back and I made my way back to my Acropolis. The sun was shining and warming my skin. The wind blew a light breeze through my blond hair. It smelled of fresh flowers and hundreds of different colors glittered in the distance. The Elysium was the purest paradise and it was my paradise, mine all alone. Even when I was at home here and felt comfortable, I longed for my mother. For other people with whom I could talk, laugh and celebrate. Unfortunately, I couldn't get out of my paradise, because it was also my prison, in which I was to live until the end of my days.

I shook my head and got myself out of my thoughts. I entered my Acropolis and heard the familiar bark of my dog Ros. I quickened my pace and saw Ros, who was sitting in front of my throne and was being petted by a man.

“Ros, there you are! I've been looking for you all over the place! ”I approached the man and he looked up at me. He had light gray-blue eyes.

"This is your dog?" He asked, getting to his feet.

I nodded and Ros came to lick my hand. I looked down at him and couldn't be angry with him.

"And you are?" I was about to say when Hermes came into the throne room, accompanied by another man.

"Persephone!" There you are! The emissaries of the Aesir are here to make agreements for the purpose of unifying our peoples. ”He concluded and pointed to the man next to him and the man who had previously petted Ros. Damn it! I had totally forgotten about the meeting and hadn't really prepared myself. Silly me! Of course that had to come across as totally unprofessional. I tried to improvise and nodded in agreement to Hermes.

“Hermes, of course. I was just looking for Ros and overlooking the time. I'm sorry for the delay gentlemen, ”I said. That was half a lie. Ros had actually disappeared and Hermes knew how much I loved the dog.

"That's Thor, Lord of Thunder," said Hermes, pointing to the man standing next to him. He was tall, had a huge beard and long brown hair, and his blue eyes looked at me kindly.

"And Tyr, Lord of Justice," pointing to the man on my left. He also had brown hair that was already graying slightly at the temples.

"Your Majesty," he said and bowed.

I immediately raised my hands. “No please, a simple Persephone is enough in my realm! Formalities are for the boring! ”I said and gave him a smile.

"Great, nice to meet you!" Said Thor and bowed respectfully.

Hermes stepped in. "Then should we start negotiations?"

I shook my head. “Oh my dear Hermes, why don't we show our guests around a little and then have a fresh glass of wine? Can we then make the agreements afterwards? "

Thor nodded enthusiastically. He didn't seem like the guy for a long speech. After all, I wanted to get to know the people I was supposed to negotiate with. It was good for all of us. Hermes seemed to agree, only Tyr looked something, how should I say? Was it annoyed? He probably wanted to get straight to the point.

"As you wish, Your Majesty," he said, looking at me steadfastly.

I walked up to him, looked him straight in the eye and replied in a sugar-sweet voice: "Ah, a boring man". I walked past him and headed for the exit. "Please follow me!"

Thor laughed and gave Tyr a nudge. "Come on you boring one!" And winked at him.

__________________________________________________________

Lost in thought, I stared at the ceiling of my tent. I heard the rain pattering on my tent roof outside. Eivor had helped me to find a suitable place for my house around noon and we had found a good place not far from the longhouse by the river. Of course I slept in a tent until my house could be built. I felt a lot safer and more at home than in my hut in the burned down village. Eivor introduced me to some of the villagers, including Gunnar the blacksmith, Petra the huntress, and Sigurd's wife Randvi. She was often in the longhouse at the alliance map and handled all incoming letters and alliance inquiries. She was really nice and had given me a warm welcome. Of course, I assured everyone in the clan that I would take good care of their complaints, be it nausea or when they just dont feel well. I turned on my straw mat and tried to sleep but couldn't. After what felt like an eternity, I decided to unpack a few of my things that we were able to save from my old hut.

I decided on a small box that I had taken from my home in Greece. Inside were mementos of my native country and my mother. A small glass of white sand, a small necklace that belonged to my mother and a figure of the goddess of spring: Persephone wrapped in linen and carved from hold. I carefully unwrapped it and placed it on a small table. I lit candles and prayed a few words to Persephone. I noticed how the rain was lessening and looked outside. It had to be late because I could only hear the crickets chirping and the moon shone brightly. It had become quiet in the village. Suddenly I felt like going for a walk, because I couldn't sleep anyway. I took a small scarf and wrapped it around my shoulders and went on my way to get some fresh air. The ground was muddy from the rain, but I smelled the freshness of the grass and saw a few scattered fireflies buzzing through the air. I went up the hill to the large oak tree and looked into the long branches. The tree was remarkably beautiful. He looked old and wise, as if he had already been through a lot.

"Can't you sleep either?" I heard a voice behind me.

I turned around and saw Sigurd approaching me. He was just too tall to be overlooked. He smiled.

"No, I couldn't sleep," I replied, looking up at the tree again.

"Neither did I" I only heard him. In some way he made me nervous and I tried to avoid his gaze. Every time he looked at me it felt like he was looking into my soul. I thought it was a little strange.

"Quite a big tree," he said as he followed my gaze.

"Right? It must have seen a lot! ”I said, fascinating.

"Have seen a lot? How should a tree have seen something? It's just standing there and judging his size, it has for a while“ he scratched his chin.

“Well, we're not the first people to be here. It's been here for a couple of decades, ”I told him. "You can see that from the thickness of the trunk"

"Ah, she knows not only about healing, but also about trees," he teased me.

"Funny, but that's true!" I couldn't help but smiled. "You can actually see that on the rings in the trunk, but I think that's a topic for another time."

Sigurd laughed. I looked at him and laughed too. I felt really comfortable here and was happy to finally be able to talk to other people without them calling me a witch.

"What topic would you like to talk about?" He asked me.

"I beg your pardon?" I looked at him.

"Well, you mean, that's a topic for another time, so we have to talk about another"

"Oh, yes, that's right", embarrassed, I looked at the floor. I had no idea what to talk about, as I said, he makes me extremely nervous. He exuded such confidence and authority.

“Eivor told me that you are not from England. Although I noticed that myself.

“Oh yes, I'm from Greece. It's really nice there and it's much warmer than here. The beaches are full of white sand and the sea is crystal clear. "

I stared dreamily at the stars. I felt homesick. I left everything behind. My friends, my home and all of that for this. For England, for an adventure, a dream that turned out to be a nightmare. My mother died when I was a child and I never had more family. I grew up with friends of my mother's and developed a passion for plants, flowers and herbs like her. Tears welled up in my eyes at the memories. Sigurd noticed and stepped towards me.

"I'm sorry Ella, that was probably the wrong topic" he wanted to pat my back, but I swallowed my tears and shook my head.

"No, everything is OK. Only memories came up again. Everything is fine, ”I assured him.

"Sure?" Asked Sigurd. He looked worried and looked like he was feeling guilty.

I nodded and pulled the scarf tighter around my shoulders. I started to shiver, after all it was pretty cold. The wind picked up and the leaves of the old oak rustled. Sudden tiredness overwhelmed me and I looked in the direction of my tent.

"Shall I accompany you to your tent?" I heard Sigurd say. It seemed to me that he could read my mind. I nodded barely noticeably and we both walked down the slope towards the river. On the way we were silent and you could only hear our heavy footsteps on the muddy ground. I stopped in front of my tent and turned around.

“Thank you Sigurd. I wish you a good night ”I gave him another smile, looked at him briefly, turned on my heel and went straight to my tent. I only heard a "sleep well" and heard his footsteps faintly receding.

I didn't want to get on anyone's nerves with my problems. Especially not the Jarl. Because it was up to him whether I could stay in Ravensthorpe or not. I decided to go to sleep, because tiredness had finally caught up with me and when I was lying on my bed, i almost fell asleep instantly.

When I woke up the next morning, it was already busy outside. I heard footsteps and some of the people talking to each other. I got dressed and washed my face.

Today I decided on a purple dress that I pulled over my pants. Over it I put the scarf from yesterday and decorated the whole thing with an ornate belt. I wanted to ask Gunnar if he could forge some tools that i can use to make my potions and medicine. I was missing a couple of spoons, knives, and bowls. When I got to the forge, Gunnar was already at work. Sweat dripped from his forehead and he pounded on a piece of steel.

"Hello Gunnar!" I said and waved to him.

Gunnar looked up and a big grin emerged.

“Nice to see you Ella. I hope you have settled in well! What brings you to old Gunnar? ”He asked and put his hammer aside.

“I have a list of tools here that I need for my work. Can you make it for me? ”I handed him the piece of paper. He read it through briefly and then nodded in agreement. We negotiated a fair price and I paid my order with the remaining coins that I still carried with me.

"Thanks Gunnar and maybe see you later!"

I didn't really know what to do with myself, because there wasn't any work for me yet. I strolled through the village for a while and made a detour to Hytham. He was a really nice young man. He told me that he had a little accident in Norway, when he was helping Eivor kill a man named Kjotve. I asked him to look at the injury, but he declined thankfully and said everything was okay. I respected his decision and said goodbye. Hytham also had a mentor, Basim. A handsome man with shoulder length black hair. There was something mysterious about him, but just like Hytham, he had been really kind to me. But he was out with Sigurd most of the time.

“Ella! There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere! ”Eivor came up the slope of the longhouse towards me as I was about to leave Hytam's hut. He looked a little sweaty.

"Eivor? Is everything okay? ”I looked at him nervously.

“We need you in the longhouse for a moment. At the map table to be precise, “he nodded his head towards the house. "Come over"

I nodded and followed Eivor. Did i do anything wrong? Would they chase me away now because I no longer fit here? Question after question shot through my mind. I was probably worrying too much again and I was indeed, because when I got to the room with the map table, Randvi and Sigurd were already standing around it.

"Ahh Ella, we have a question about Grantebridgescir" Randvi greeted me.

“About Grantebridgescir? Why me? ”I wanted to know and stared at her with a questioning look.

"You lived there, can you tell us something about the Danes who lived there?" Randvi took a step towards me.

I said that there was a Danish woman named Soma who was in charge until she and her clan were evicted out of Grantebridge. But I didn't know where they were currently because I had nothing to do with them.

Randvi nodded to Eivor and Sigurd and she took out a letter.

“Here is a request for help to retake the Scir. In return we would get a alliance with them. ”she explained to me and pointed to the letter. "Do you think we can trust her?"

I shrugged. "Unfortunately I don't know her personally, but I heard she treat her people well and is an excellent fighter"

“Well then I think we can take the risk. Eivor? I think that's your specialty, ”Sigurd said to Eivor.

Eivor agreed and immediately set off for Grantebridgescir. I hurried after Eivor to warn him at the door about a man named Wigmund.

"Be careful Eivor, the man is dangerous." I said worried. "At then end, i have to patch you up." I smiled at him.

"Don't worry Ella, I know how to deal with bad men," he winked at me.

I had to laugh. Yes he knew that. I nodded to him and I said goodbye to him. I saw him walking down the slope to the harbor when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and saw Sigurd standing in front of me.

"Ella, I wanted to ask again if everything is okay?" He smiled slightly.

I looked at him puzzled.

"I mean because of yesterday, I'm sorry."

Then it came to me.

“Oh Sigurd, you don't have to apologize. It's all right. Really, ”I assured him when I saw that he raised an eyebrow. "It only brought up old memories and was a bit homesick"

"I can understand that," he said understandably

I nodded and looked embarrassed again at the floor.

“I should go see Gunnar. I had ordered a few things and maybe it is already finished ”I looked in the direction of the forge.

"All right.See you Ella “he gave me another smile, turned around and went back to the map room.

I took a deep breath and made my way to Gunnar. What was wrong with me? My brain always switched itself off in Sigurd’s presence. He was really nice and it was really nice of him to ask again. Why did he confused me so much? I shook my head to get rid of these thoughts and resolutely marched to Gunnar's forge.

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lucy-268 · 4 years ago

Text

Revelations

A/N - This is ‘the talk’ and it takes place a week after Regrets. You can find that on my masterlist. Also, this meets the requirement for the @choicesweeklychallenge. You belong to me can be found in bold.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to PB

Warnings: none? I don’t think even language.

Series/Pairing: Open Heart - Ethan x f!MC (Charley Valentine)

Word count: 4,466

*****Thursday*****

“Has Denver General sent us any more information, or will I just find out when I get there?” June asked.

Consulting his notes, Ethan answered her. “Dr. Morgan said that he would send us the remaining test results as soon as he gets them. He’ll be sending them to all of us, so if you want to discuss the case with any of us we’ll all have the same information.”

June never looked up from the report she was reviewing. “I doubt it will be necessary.”

“Regardless of whether you think it’s a necessity, you will keep me informed of the case.” Ethan reminded her.

“Of course, Ethan.” June said. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’m going to get ready for my flight?”

“You don’t want to hear about my new patient?” Baz asked her.

June glanced at him. “My flight leaves in less than three hours, so no. At least not right now.” She gathered her files and left saying goodbye to the rest of the team.

“Baz, what is going on with your new patient?” Charley asked.

“Late-onset Chediak-Higashi Syndrome. For me as an immunologist, I find it extremely interesting, especially as the patient is thirty-two and just diagnosed.”

Charley looked between Baz and Ethan. “Is this a team patient?”

“No. This is a patient of Baz’s. We will have a new patient coming in on Monday for which you will be primary.” Ethan held up a folder.

Baz briefed them on his patient, excusing himself when he received a page saying the patient was being admitted.

“And then there were two,” Ethan handed her the folder.

She flipped it open and read through the file. “Twenty-five year old male. Diabetic. Joint pain and muscle weakness.” Charley looked at him. “Do you know what it is and you want me to figure it out?”

Ethan shook his head. “I have a couple of ideas but I don’t know for sure what it is. You should have several ideas right now.”

“The symptoms can be just about anything. You said he gets here on Monday ?”

He nodded. “He’s already been to Mass Kenmore several times. Even though we have sent a release signed by the patient, Terrance hasn’t sent the files to us. So we may start with spinning our wheels testing for things that they have already tested for and eliminated.”

Charley studied the file again. “Did you see the iron levels here? I think the first thing is a liver biopsy?”

“Are you telling me that’s what you are going to do, or asking me if I think that’s the right choice?” Ethan asked her.

Her head snapped up. “That’s what I’m going to order. I’ll even have the order written so the test is run as soon as he’s admitted.” Charley met his eyes. “What?”

Ethan smiled. “There aren’t a lot of doctors who could have figured out to start with that test after reviewing a file for less than fifteen minutes. Let alone a second year resident. So I am impressed.” He reached over and stroked the back of her hand. “You often impress me.”

She turned her hand and laced their fingers. “It’s Thursday.”

“So it is.”

“Last week you texted me and said we would talk on Saturday.”

“Yes. And we decided we’d have dinner at six.”

Charley met his eyes. “You aren’t going to change your mind?”

“We’re meeting at my apartment. I’ll be there. We are long overdue for the talk. And I’m sorry for that.”

Charley smiles. “Will I finally get my chicken?”

“You will not. We’ve made the chicken together,” he held up his hand when she was going to interrupt, “this time, we’ll make something else. You plan the meal.”

“We may have made the chicken together but I never got to try it.”

“I want to see what you come up with. You can create any menu you want. Email me what we need and I’ll go shopping.” Ethan smiled at her.

Charley considered for a minute. “Anything?” When Ethan nodded, she continued, “My grandma had an amazing pot roast recipe. We could roast it in the oven or use a crockpot. It’s always best if it cooks on low in the crockpot, so that would take about seven or so hours. I’ll email you the list, and I guess I’ll be there late morning. I guess we’ll also have lunch together, too. That’s alright, isn’t it Ethan?” She didn’t even wait for his answer before she left the office.

Charley watched the office door to see if he was going to come after her and inform her they would not be spending the entire day together.

Ethan sat at his desk, he smiled as he realized that life would never be boring around Charley Valentine.

*****Saturday*****

Sienna pushed open Charley’s bedroom door. “Are yo-” Sienna stopped mid-sentence. She heard several loud thuds and wanted to ask if Charley was okay, but she did not expect the scene she witnessed. She also didn’t see her roommate. “Charley!”

“I’m here,” Charley called, pushing herself out from under the bed. “I was looking for this shoe. That I can’t wear now. Thank you, Lucy!” The shoe had become a chew toy for their pet.

Lucy, their fennec fox, sat in the middle of Charley’s bed, looking proud of herself.

“Forget the shoe, we understand what happened to it.” Sienna looked around the room. “Was there a bomb? Are you telekinetic? Did your closet and dresser decide to vomit every article of clothing you own into your room?”

“I’m looking for something to wear, and I don’t have anything! I got off at five yesterday, I should have gone shopping!”

Sienna remembered the day a couple weeks ago when Charley got home late clad in someone else’s clothes. Based on her own conversation with a certain someone, Sienna had a pretty good idea who. Now she was frantically trying to find something special to wear. “What’s his name?”

Charley froze. “What’s whose name?”

“Obviously, the guy that you’re spending your day with. The same one you were with when you came home wearing clothes that were way too big for you. So, who is it?”

“No one,” Charley stated. “I’m not spending the day with anyone.”

“Yet you canceled on Bryce and me for today.” Sienna picked up a Columbia t-shirt and a pair of jeans with a rip in the knees. “Here, put these on.” She smiled. “I mean, if you aren’t doing anything special today, it doesn’t matter what you have on.”

Charley looked at the clothes that Sienna tossed on her bed. She had to leave for Ethan’s before Sienna would be leaving to meet Bryce, and she still didn’t know what she was going to wear.

Sienna watched her. “I heard that Dr. Ramsey also has today off. And he did when you had your second day off two weeks ago.”

Charley froze and looked to the door. “Everyone else is working today and they’re gone?”

Sienna nodded and sat down on Charley’s bed. “Uh-huh.”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“So it wasn’t just the one night when he spent the night here?”

“That day we went to the country club and later I went to his apartment to talk to him? That was the first time, and the night after my hearing was the second. It was also the last time.” Charley sighed. “Then he went to the Amazon so we could ‘reset’ since he would be my director supervisor.” Charley sighed. “Since he’s been back he says we need to stay away from each other, but then he’ll kiss me. Today we’re going to ‘talk.’ We’ve been supposed to talk since right after the softball game, but it kept getting delayed.”

Sienna smirked at her. “You had on his clothes the day you came home.”

Charley's face turned red. “We spent the day together with his dad in Providence. We took his dog for a walk and I fell into a mud puddle.”

“You’ve met his family!”

“His dad. He hadn’t told Alan that he was bringing me with him. Ethan had never taken anyone home with him before, not even Harper Emery.”

“Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Emery were a thing!” Sienna’s mouth dropped open.

“I don’t know if it’s really common knowledge. Aurora probably knows. I saw the two of them talking once and it seemed intimate. It was the day before they announced the opening on the diagnostics team. I did ask him about it later and he said he likes to keep his private life private, but he did say they had an on-again, off-again thing but it ended permanently when she became chief.” Charley rested her head on her hand. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything. Don’t tell anyone.”

Sienna mimed sealing her lips. “I thought that you and Bryce were kind of together.”

“We hooked up a couple of times but we both agreed to be casual.”

“And with Ramsey, you don’t want casual?”

“I don’t.” Charley chewed on her lip. “Sienna, I’m terrified about today. I know that everything is going to change.”

“Well then, let’s get you ready.” Sienna picked up the t-shirt and jeans. “This probably won’t do; we’ll find something else.”

Charley was just getting ready to leave when her phone rang. She looked at the caller id and sighed. “If you’re calling to cancel-” she started.

“I’m not,” she heard his rich baritone as well as a smile in his voice. “I had to go to the hospital to pick up something. If you haven’t left yet you can ride with me. I’m outside your building.”

“I’ll be down in a minute.” Charley disconnected, smiling.

Soon they were in his apartment. She kicked off her shoes at the door and stood there when he walked further into the apartment. He got half way through the living room when he realized she wasn’t with him. He turned to find her at the door. “If we want to make this pot roast we need to go to the kitchen.”

Charley gave a nervous laugh and stepped away from the door. She tossed her purse on the couch as they walked into the kitchen. They washed their hands and Ethan pulled his crockpot out of the pantry while Charley pulled the roast out of the refrigerator. She saw the printout from her email with the image of her grandma’s recipe. Ethan gathered the rest of the ingredients while Charley brewed a pot of coffee.

“Why the crockpot instead of a roasting pan in the oven? I saw the recipe had directions for both with cooking times for either low or high in the slow cooker.”

“It tastes better and is more tender.”

Ethan smirked. “It does not. And we need to use the Dutch oven even if it’s just to brown the roast.”

“Maybe it doesn’t do a lot for the taste, but it is more tender.” Charley watched as the coffee finished brewing, standing with her back to him. “It takes longer to cook in the slow cooker on low and I wanted to spend more time with you.” She gave a short laugh. “Funnily enough, now that I’m here, I’m nervous.”

“Why?”

She turned to face him. “I think that today may change everything, and I’m hopeful but I’m also scared. I’ve been wanting to sit down with you away from the hospital with just the two of us for so long, but now that we’re actually going to do that...” She bit her lip.

“Now you understand why I’ve been putting it off. But I’ve done a lot of thinking. And I talked to Naveen. We are long overdue. Today will change everything but we will be in agreement with it, I think.”

Charley nodded. Ethan turned back to the counter. “Let’s get this set for dinner, fix lunch, and talk.”

Charley browned the roast in the Dutch oven while Ethan chopped the vegetables and herbs. Once the roast was in the crockpot, Charley cooked the onion. Once they started to soften, they added the rest of the ingredients, including the coffee. “Why coffee?” Ethan asked.

Charley smiled, watching the mixture simmer. “Is this a quiz, same as ‘why neat’ that first night at Donahue’s?”

“Genuine curiosity. As much as I love coffee, I’ve never had pot roast cooked in coffee. I found the recipe interesting.”

“It helps to tenderize the meat and gives the gravy a richer flavor.”

Once the gravy and onion mixture was cooked, Ethan poured it over the meat and set the timer. While Charley washed the accumulated dishes, Ethan fixed salads for lunch. They took their plates to the living room and sat side-by-side on his sofa.

“You talked to Naveen about us.” When he nodded, she continued, “I talked to Sienna.”

They fell into a silence while they ate. Charley glanced at him every so often.

He pushed the last piece of lettuce around on his plate before finally setting the plate on the coffee table. He turned to her; she mimicked his moves and faced him.

“Ethan, I’ve said for a while that a relationship with you is an easy decision for me. It’s what I want. I think that we could be good together, amazing even.”

Ethan nodded. “I know. You aren’t the problem, I am. I want to be able to push you to be the best doctor you can be.”

“You can do that professionally, regardless of any personal relationship we have. I can take criticism from Dr. Ramsey and know that it isn’t coming from Ethan.”

“You’re assuming that I can also have that division.”

That got Charley’s attention. “You’re Ethan Freakin’ Ramsey. You can do anything you try to. If you want to make the distinction you will. And if you cross the line, I’ll let you know.”

“Another problem-”

Charley put her hand on his arm. “If you just want to list a lot of potential possible problems, why are we even having a discussion? Earlier you said that today would change everything and you thought we’d be in agreement.” She folded her arms across her chest and focused on a picture hanging on the wall. “If you thought that I’d change my mind about us, you’re wrong. If you thought you could list all the reasons why we can’t be together and why you won’t be with me, I was right to be nervous about this. If that’s-”

Ethan reached over and grabbed her chin, forcing her to face him. “What I want to do is identify the obstacles or potential obstacles we face so we are both aware of them, and to decide how we need to handle them in the future.” He wiped a tear out of her eye. “Because in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I very much do want to be with you.”

Charley grabbed his hand and kissed his palm before lacing their fingers together. She smiled at him. “I’m sorry for my outburst. Continue, please.”

“Another problem is the board. They don’t like interoffice romances. Naveen seems to think this won’t be an issue. He seems to think that as long as it isn’t impacting the care of the patients, or the bottom line of the hospital, they wouldn’t care, nor would they even need to be aware. I disagree with him on this. I think the board makes it their business to know what goes on in the hospital.”

Charley interrupted again. “I know that there are married couples at the hospital. Was it a problem when you and Harper were together?” Ethan drew in a deep breath when she asked that. “If you don’t want to answer that you don’t have to.”

“I will. It was not a problem and the board did not have an issue with it when she was head of neurosurgery and I was a fellow on the diagnostics team. If our relationship would have continued when she was chief or if I had been a surgeon, it would have been a problem. Any other couples at Edenbrook do not work in the same area, and one member of the couple is not another’s supervisor.”

Ethan continued, “I don’t want anyone to think that you got the position on my team because of our relationship. I don’t want anyone to have any doubt about that. You earned it.”

Charley nodded. “I did earn it. You weren’t even the one who put me on the team. Naveen did.”

Ethan agreed that while that was true, many people at the hospital could have thought that he asked Naveen to do that.

“If anyone has doubts, I graduated at the top of my class at Columbia. Not near, I was ranked first. In fact if anyone had ranked all med school graduates my year from around the country, I’d probably be in the top fifty.”

Ethan laughed. “Someone did. And you are higher than that. You are somewhere in the top twenty. I’m not going to narrow it down more than that for you.”

“Based on that, I think I earned the right to be on the team. Not to mention helping to cure Naveen last year. Our relationship had nothing to do with it. Well except for the fact you inspired me to go to med school in the first place. And I wanted to work with you, which is why I came to Edenbrook.”

“We probably don’t want to advertise our personal relationship at work. The hospital has a wonderful gossip network and we’ll need to be careful. That being said it probably won’t be long before everyone knows about us.”

“That sounds okay. But some people will know. I told Sienna and you told Naveen. My roommates will know I’m seeing someone, and will make it their mission to find out who.” Charley wasn’t sure if she should mention the next part, but figured she might as well. “June does, or she thinks she does. At least that was what she implied the day I caught her with my personnelle file.”

Ethan froze. “She had your file?”

Charley nodded. “She said that she reads the files for everyone she works with. She tried to tell me you asked her to get it for you, but I knew you wouldn’t have.”

“I’ll deal with her when she gets back from Denver. Your roommates and Naveen are fine.”

“If my roommates know Bryce will also know; and if Aurora does, Harper might.” Charley looked up at him. “Can we talk about Harper?”

“I thought we already had.”

“You ended things when she became chief. If she wouldn’t have, would you still be together, do you think?”

“We would not. We were together because it was mutually beneficial to the both of us. But we were never going to last.”

She smirked at him. “By ‘mutually beneficial’ do you mean it was convenient and the sex was good?”

“Yes.” Ethan said. “But then last year something happened that I knew would never lead Harper and I together again.” When Charley tipped her head to show she was interested in his answer, he continued. “Last year, an intern showed up and turned my life inside out. And I can’t get her out of my head.”

Charley started to move towards him, and he stopped her. “What about the scalpel jockey?”

Charley lips twitched. “His name is Bryce.”

“I’m aware, and you didn’t answer the question.”

“We hooked up twice, once at our housewarming party and again once after we were at Donahue’s. We almost did the night we researched treating Mrs. Martinez, but you’d already kissed me in Miami. I wasn’t interested in anyone else at that point.” She looked at the ground before meeting his eyes. “Bryce is a friend and a good one. I trust him. I also know if I ever did want a relationship with him, I’d have that choice. I don’t, and Bryce respects that.”

“As long as he knows that you belong to me.” Ethan pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her.

“And you belong to me!” Charley shifted slightly on his lap and felt his hardness under her thigh. “We could continue this in the bedroom.”

“A very good idea.” As Ethan stood and lifted her, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom.

Several hours later, they were laying with their legs tangled together, voices soft in the quiet room when an alarm on her phone beeped.

“Somewhere you need to be?” He kissed the top of her head.

She pushed herself up. “Actually, yes. The kitchen. I need to start the vegetables.”

He walked over to his closet and pulled out a robe that on him would reach mid-thigh. He tossed it to her, before grabbing another for himself. This one hit him at mid-calf. “You could have this one if you wanted.” She indicated the robe she hadn’t yet tied. It fell below her knees.

He snorted. “Be responsible for you tripping in this one? I don’t think so.”

As Charley gathered what she needed for the roasted cauliflower, Ethan grabbed the green beans. Charley explained that sometime they would fix potatoes with the roast, but her grandfather grew up near Idaho and often decided he wanted anything other than potatoes, so they would have cauliflower. “I don’t like raw or steamed, but I really like them roasted with this mustard sauce.”

Charley watched Ethan pull a cake plate out of the refrigerator. “Dessert?” At Ethan's acknowledgment she asked what it was. He wouldn’t tell her, saying he wanted it to be a surprise.

They worked efficiently together in the kitchen, getting dinner ready. Ethan selected a red wine for them and opened it to let it breathe. He carried their plates to the dining room table.

“This is good; the coffee does make the gravy richer.”

“Grandma knows best. My grandfather grew up in Spokane and grandma in Seattle. They had a restaurant in Seattle that my dad and all my aunts and uncles worked in while they were growing up.”

“You have a big family?”

“My dad had three brothers and two sisters. But even though they had six kids, my grandparents only had four grandchildren. There was my brother and me; we grew up in Pennsylvania. My one uncle had two boys and they were in Oregon. All of my dad’s family is in the northwest and we didn’t see them often. My dad moved there after he retired and I started med school.”

Ethan watched her. “Are we going to talk about your mom’s family?”

Charley shrugged. “Not much to tell. Her parents were killed in a car accident when she was in college. She was an only child and you know why I don’t talk to her.”

As they cleared the table and kitchen he asked her what he had been wondering about. “Why did you decide to do your residency in Boston with most of your family now out west?”

“It doesn’t feel like home to me there. I figured I could do my residency anywhere; it wasn’t a commitment to stay somewhere for my life. It’s only three years.” She smiled at him. “Besides coming here let me learn from the best.”

Ethan poured coffee and set the mugs on a tray with two dessert plates. Charley watched as he lifted the cover off the cake.

“Lemon! How did you know lemon was my favorite?” Charley couldn’t resist. She swiped her finger on the edge of the cake to collect a sample of icing. She popped it in her mouth.

“I asked Sienna the other day and she told me.”

Charley stared at him. “She helped me get dressed this morning and she didn’t say anything!”

Ethan laughed. “You need help getting dressed in the mornings?”

She felt her face redden. “I… well… um. I didn’t know what to wear this morning.”

“I would have gone with clothes, but I understand that some people are fussier than others.”

“I wanted to look nice.”

“You always look nice.”

“I thought that I always looked satisfactory.”

Ethan cut two pieces of cake and added them to the tray with the coffees.

“I thought we could take these into the bedroom. If that would be satisfactory to you?”

She nodded and he carried the tray to the bedroom and set it down on the bed. He flipped a switch causing the gas fireplace to spring to life. Charley picked up her cake and snuggled back against Ethan. “I like the fireplace here.”

“I don’t often use it.”

“Why tonight?”

“Must be the company I’m keeping.”

Charley turned and straddled his lap. “You better be careful. This company could end up corrupting you.”

“I look forward to it, if that’s the case.” Ethan rolled her unto her back.

Several hours later, Charley looked at the clock. “I should go home. I have to work tomorrow and my boss can be tough if I’m late.”

“If you stay with me, I’ll be sure you’re not late,” Ethan buried his head in her neck.

“I don’t have clean clothes for tomorrow.”

“You can either grab some scrubs from the locker room or ask your roommate to bring something for you.” Ethan pointed to his dresser. “I cleared both of the bottom drawers for you, if you want them.”

Charley chewed on her bottom lip. “You knew what the outcome of our talk was going to be before we actually talked today. When did you decide you wanted-”

“The night of the softball game, when I kissed you.”

Charley stared at him. “Then why did you keep putting me off when I wanted to talk?”

“Because I kept coming up with all the reasons why we shouldn’t be together. And I decided not to do that anymore. I’m tired of avoiding whatever it is we have.”

“Why do I get the two bottom drawers?”

“You’re shorter than me!” He indicates the drawer on the right. “You actually do have clean clothes in there. What you wore when we went to my dads. You at least have something to wear to the hospital.” Ethan watched her. “Any other concerns for tonight?”

“Do you have an extra toothbrush?”

Ethan shrugged. “Yes, but it’s one of the standard ones dentists hand out. It should be fine until we can get you one to keep here.”

Charley put her head on his pillow. “Then I can’t think of a single reason to get out of the warm bed right now.”

He turned off the light and slipped under the covers with her. “Neither can I.”

Tag list (if you want to be on or off let me know) @oofchoices @openheart12 @jamespotterthefirst @ohchoices @catchinglikekeronsene @aylamreads @nerdydinosaursweets @eramsey28 @txemrn @starrystarrytrouble @queencarb @thegreentwin @lion-ess24 @caseyvalentineramsey

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesweeklychallenge

#dr ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan jonah ramsey #open heart fanfiction #open heart #choices open heart

81 notes · View notes

carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

Photo

Welcome back to the POTC AU! Sorry for the day-long delay -- I was out and away from my computer almost all of yesterday, so I wasn’t able to finish this up until today! XD; But yeah, moving on to the notes...

The information about the Chest and its locking mechanisms, honestly, was all stuff I had to kind of surmise and research, since to my utter shock, there were just about no sources I could find online discussing the process of designing the original Dead Man’s Chest for the Pirates films. There is concept art for it, showing some possible decorative designs for the outside, and there are prop replicas showing the different angles and the inside of the lid -- but there is NO discussion made about the Chest’s construction/locking mechanism or what kind of 18th century or earlier chests may have inspired it. And that kind of blows me away as -- for all of the films’ flaws -- I have to applaud them on taking a lot of historical influences for things, especially in the costume and prop design. I apologize in advance if any of my research on 18th century locks and lock-picking is flawed or incomplete, but I did try my best. XD;

The song “Fifteen Men on a Dead Man’s Chest” was originally featured in the book Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson, which was written in the late 1800′s, over a hundred years after the end of the Golden Age of Piracy, but it has since become entwined with the idea of pirates in pop culture, to the extent that it’s also referenced in Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest, where it’s sung by Joshamee Gibbs and of course it inspired the core concept that the movie is named after. The original song was likely about Blackbeard or a similar pirate marooning a bunch of his crewmates, but I changed the meaning slightly to better fit with this narrative.

This version of Davy Jones, who is in truth an AU!Finn McGarry, belongs to @theguythatdraws Ican’twaittotrydrawinghimsoon, while Juliette “Jules” Farrier-Weasley belongs to @cursebreakerfarrier...and the previous part of this AU is here, while the entire tag is here! Hope you all enjoy! xoxo

x~x~x~x

Cutler Beckett did turn out to be just as unpleasant as Skye and Orion had suggested. Pretty quickly Carewyn could suss out that this so-called “businessman” had no loyalty to or caring for anyone or anything besides himself and his vested interests, namely his own wealth and status.

Unfortunately Percy was not as quick to catch onto that, presumably because of Beckett’s stated interest in supposedly bringing all pirates to justice and (Carewyn suspected) the fact that Beckett had spoken on Percy’s behalf before he was named a Captain himself. Part of Carewyn wanted to chastise Percy for letting himself be blinded by Beckett’s attempt to manipulate him, but she knew she couldn’t risk doing so. Not only would it make Percy and therefore Beckett suspicious that she was more sympathetic to their enemies (namely, Orion, Bill, and other pirates), but she also didn’t want to come down too hard on Percy. She knew that Percy, being the youngest Weasley brother in the Navy, had a lot to prove, especially considering that his “older brother” (namely, Carewyn) was a well-respected Commodore and war hero. Even his real older brothers had gotten their fair share of glory while they were enlisted in the Navy and now were seen as wanted criminals...so it was little wonder that Percy was determined to stand apart from them, not just as great in his own right, but ultimately better because he didn’t “fall from grace” like they did.

Cutler Beckett stayed at Governor Farrier’s mansion for the next week and visited the fort just about every day in that time. Whenever he was there, he pretty frequently sought Carewyn out, engaging her in conversation and asking her about her experiences fighting the Spanish and in escaping from the crew of the Revenge. Carewyn didn’t enjoy his rather pointed attention, but she hid her discomfort and mistrust as best as she was able. As much as she really found herself disliking the man, she knew that Beckett trying to get to know her better could give her the opportunity to get some information on him too. And ultimately, her polite, charming affect did help her learn a few things.

“From there, it was simply a matter of applying the proper pressure to the cylinder with one of the hat pins, while pushing the pins into the proper alignment with the other,” Carewyn explained. “Once the padlock on my chains was properly unlocked, I was then able to adjust enough to still look like I was locked up, wait for one of the enemy soldiers to enter my cell, and then overpower him so I could take his uniform, weapons, and keys and escape.”

“You truly are quite an escape artist, Commodore,” said Beckett, his eyebrows raising approvingly. “I’m impressed.”

Carewyn offered a casual smile. “Thank you -- but I only learned those things out of necessity, Lord Beckett.”

‘Jacob and I knew we’d both have to know how to pick locks, if we ever had to escape the Revenge’s brig. And even before that, it helped keep Grandfather happy, for us to be able to open chests of loot we didn’t have keys for.’

“It’s not a skill set I like to use if I can help it, considering I’d much prefer to be the one locking others up, not vice-versa.”

“Yes,” said Beckett, “I suppose for one with such a strong moral compass as yours, it would be only natural for you to wish to enforce justice, rather than fight against it.”

“Just as I’d say it’s only natural for a gentleman such as yourself to work toward the protection of our realm and interests -- am I right?”

“Of course,” said Beckett airily. “Someone has to make sure that people get what they pay for and that business remains profitable -- make sure the world turns properly, as it were.”

“A difficult proposition for any one man to do,” said Carewyn lowly, “considering this wild, untamed world we live in.”

Beckett smiled -- unlike Carewyn’s, however, there was no warmth in it at all.

“Fortunately, Commodore, the world we’ve been saddled with will soon be a thing of the past.”

He and Carewyn looked out over the wall of the fort. Down below, at the western dock, several rows of newly arrived red-garbed militia were disembarking from a Man o’ War and marching into Port Royal.

“As the map is filled in, our hold around this world becomes better defined,” said Beckett. “Its treasures are collected, its value assessed...and with that, a new sense of order begins to take hold.”

Carewyn looked down at the Man o’ War, her eyes narrowing slightly. She hadn’t seen such a strong military presence in Port Royal since the War against the Spanish -- and yet, here they were, being used not against foreign countries, but against individual people -- some of them even British citizens. As much as she knew that there were plenty of pirates that weren’t as goodhearted as Orion, it still seemed bizarre to her to unload all this firepower to destroy and kill, as opposed to capturing.

“And hopefully, peace,” said the Commodore softly.

Beckett glanced at Carewyn with a discerning eye. “Indeed. Peace and order do go hand-in-hand, wouldn’t you say?”

‘Not if the order is being instilled by a tyrant,’ she thought, as Charles Cromwell rippled over her mind.

“Definitely,” she lied instead.

Carewyn glanced at Beckett out the side of her eye, before turning her gaze out to the ocean.

“...I only profess as much knowledge to this matter as one can acquire, fighting against the likes of Orion Amari and being in the captivity of a pirate crew like the Revenge’s,” she said in the hardest, least sympathetic voice she could, “but it seems to me that pirates know their existence is unsustainable. Regardless of how renown they are and how much they can terrify merchant sailors, they’re still only men, facing off against Empires and kings. And as the world is plotted out -- as you yourself pointed out, Lord Beckett -- there will soon be less and less havens where such criminals can hide...”

She then looked at Beckett with a cold look in her eye.

“...From the way things stand...it seems to me that it would be in their best interest to stand down while they still can.”

'It would be, if there was any true justice for those who turned themselves in.’

Beckett’s lips spread into a slightly wider, cold smile as he inclined his head in agreement. “Well said. There could always be clemency, for those who embrace that wisdom -- it’s just good business.”

With this conversation, Carewyn had gotten a proper fix on Beckett, and it made her feel more disconcerted. It only got worse when later that week, both she and Percy were summoned into Carewyn’s own office at the fort for a meeting with Beckett. Some might have been offended at the idea of someone coming in and stealing their office just to demand a meeting with the office’s owner, but Carewyn honestly couldn’t make herself care too much about that. She couldn’t help but think that Beckett being so forceful could only be a bad thing, and when she arrived in her office, Percy right behind her dressed in his shiny new Captain’s uniform and powdered white wig, she immediately got the feeling she was right.

Beckett had already made himself very at home in Carewyn’s office. A crystal decanter filled with red wine and several glasses had been laid out and an entire map complete with tiny soldier pieces plotted in different positions covered nearly all of Carewyn’s desk. There was also an even larger map that had been applied to the back wall, which an employee was currently adding more details onto with his paintbrush. Standing in front of Carewyn’s desk across from Beckett was a middle-aged woman with hair as ginger red as Percy and Carewyn’s -- when the two officers first entered the room, her sharp-lidded dark blue eyes ran over both of them, lingering on Carewyn critically.

“Ah,” said Cutler Beckett, his lips spreading into a smile as his eyes narrowed upon Carewyn, “Commodore and Captain Weasley. Good of you to come.”

Carewyn and Percy both saluted.

“Lord Beckett,” Carewyn greeted formally.

She glanced at the older woman out the side of her eye, to find that she was likewise still looking her over with narrowed eyes. Carewyn couldn’t help but look at her suspiciously in return -- Percy had said Beckett had a female associate...and, if Charles Cromwell was to believed, then this woman had to be --

“Allow me to introduce my associate, Patricia Rakepick,” said Beckett smoothly. “Madam Rakepick -- this is Captain Percy Weasley, and his elder brother, Commodore Carey Weasley.”

Carewyn’s blood ran cold. Being face-to-face with the woman who tried to kill Jacob was like a dose of cold, shuddering poison to her system. It took everything in her to not look at Rakepick with wrathful, vengeful hatred -- instead, she tried to hide the bile she felt by bowing respectfully, her head slightly bowed to obscure her expression.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madam,” she said softly. Somehow her voice came out levelly, despite the rage pulsing through her blood.

Rakepick’s eyes narrowed a bit more on Carewyn’s face.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Commodore,” she said, but she didn’t sound quite so convincing -- she almost immediately turned back to Beckett, looking noticeably impatient, “Lord Beckett, you can’t think that these -- ”

Beckett held up a hand to silence her and turned to the employee working on the map. “One moment -- Mr. Elliot, you may stop there, for today. On your way, now.”

The employee bowed his head respectfully, before descending from his ladder and quickly leaving the office. The door shut with a SNAP behind him.

“Now then,” said Beckett, as he rose to his feet, “Commodore...Captain...I invited you here to request a favor of you. Madam Rakepick has recently uncovered a rather unique and valuable artifact.”

Carewyn’s eyebrows furrowed. Even Percy looked startled.

“What artifact is that, your Lordship?” he asked.

Beckett poured some red wine and offered a glass to Carewyn. She accepted it to be polite, but did not drink it. He then similarly offered a glass to Percy, who took a sip, even if he still looked a bit confused.

“How familiar are you both with the legend of Davy Jones?” asked Beckett.

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed slightly. “The captain of the Flying Dutchman?”

“Well, I’ve...heard the stories, of course,” said Percy, glancing at Carewyn uncertainly. “We both have -- the silly things the soldiers would pass around, at sea...ghost stories, you know...”

Rakepick scoffed, crossing her arms. “‘Ghost stories’ -- and these two are supposed to be sailors? Any sailor worth their salt knows that these things are hardly just stories -- ”

“Madam, please,” Beckett cut her off very coolly, as Percy frowned deeply, clearly offended. “I’m afraid the stories are indeed real. We now have the Chest to prove it.”

He reached under his desk and placed an intricately carved iron treasure chest on top of Carewyn’s desk.

It looked older than anything Carewyn had ever seen, and yet also oddly beautiful -- the inset lock framed by the moon’s phases and stylized flames, and iron tentacles clutched at the lid as if keeping it shut.

Carewyn immediately put down her full wine glass on a side table so as to walk up to the chest, trailing a hand along the heart-shaped lock.

“This is the Dead Man’s Chest?” she whispered.

Percy glanced at Carewyn. “The Dead Man’s Chest? Like in the song?”

Carewyn shook her head. “‘Fifteen Men on a Dead Man’s Chest’ was about this Chest, Perce. It’s said that Jones was so determined that no one know where he buried this treasure chest that he abandoned the entire crew who knew of its existence on that island with nothing but a bottle of rum to sustain them.”

“Leaving them to take the secret of its location to their graves,” said Beckett. He was idly playing with a silver piece of eight in his right hand as he spoke, his eyes resting on Carewyn. “Alas, it seems that the key needed to open the Chest may be in a location we cannot reach -- ”

He shot a cool look at Rakepick, who looked very affronted and opened her mouth to say something, but couldn’t before Beckett spoke again.

“ -- so I’d like to ask for your expertise on the matter, Commodore. Can this Chest be opened, without its key?”

Carewyn looked from Beckett to down at the Chest, unable to hide the trepidation completely from her face.

“...I can’t say for sure,” she said slowly. Her mind was working very fast as she regarded Beckett with a cautious look. “Were it an ordinary chest, I daresay it’d be easy enough to find a way to open it...but if there were any kind of curse placed on it or, more importantly, the treasure inside it...it might not be wise to try to break it open.”

“Curse?” repeated Percy disbelievingly. “Carey, you can’t be serious -- ”

“I saw the curse of Isle de Muerta with my own eyes, Percy,” she reminded him sharply. “If the Dead Man’s Chest has such a curse on it, it would not be worth the risk to open it, no matter how valuable its treasure is.”

Percy immediately quieted, looking a bit uncomfortable. Rakepick once again looked Carewyn over with a critical eye, even as she gave another light sniff.

“The treasure inside is not magical, so it would have no chance of hurting us, that is for certain,” said Rakepick dryly. “And from all the evidence I’ve gathered, I found nothing hinting that Finn McGarry -- pardon, Davy Jones -- was particularly adept at curses. All of the abilities he has now were a result of the role bestowed upon him by Calypso, as ferryman of the damned.”

Her face then turned much more serious.

“I will agree with the Commodore on one thing, though: Jones’s Chest will be too strong for the likes of a single man to break open. Look at the lid -- there are dead bolt locks around the entire Chest. The only way we’ll be able to unlock it is if I fetch the key from Jones myself -- ”

“And yet the Commodore thinks it’d be easy enough, to find a way to open the Chest without that key,” said Beckett rather coolly, raising his eyebrows as he once again shifted his gaze to Carewyn. “Commodore -- if you would?”

Carewyn looked from the Dead Man’s Chest to Beckett again, before glancing back at Percy. Percy gave her an encouraging nod, but it didn’t make Carewyn feel any better. She wished beyond reason that Charlie or Bill had been there instead -- they’d understand why she was so hesitant to help someone like Cutler Beckett.

But at the same time...she couldn’t refuse. She was put in the position that she had to open the Chest, if she wanted to stay on Beckett’s good side and keep the position that allowed her to protect Bill, Jules, Charlie, Jacob, and Orion. Even if she did refuse to open the Chest, then Beckett would no doubt find someone else who would...and would also likely not trust Carewyn enough to let her overhear any more information that could help her protect the others.

'If the treasure inside isn’t cursed, then there isn’t much reason to refuse,’ she thought grimly. ‘And lining Beckett’s pockets with a bit more gold would only help me help the others that bit more, by earning his trust.’

And so, swallowing back the ball of fear in her throat, Carewyn started looking over the Chest. She turned it around a few times, examining the hinges and the dead-bolts lining the base of the lid.

“What do you think, Carey?” asked Percy anxiously.

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed upon the Chest as she ran a hand over the top and pushed down on each of the iron tentacles one at a time.

“Its construction most resembles an armada chest -- some of the Spanish captains used them to hold their valuables during the War, and I’ve seen some pirates use them too, to hold their loot,” she murmured to him, though she could feel Rakepick hovering over her other shoulder as she worked. “On armada chests, the locking mechanism is actually built into the inside of the lid -- that explains the dead bolts around the edges. It also would prevent you from just unscrewing the hinges on the back of the chest and opening it from the back, like you can on a lot of wooden chests. But armada chests usually have a false keyhole on the front, with the real keyhole being hidden under a flap on the lid. This one does not. Judging by the construction of the keyhole, there looks to be a double cylinder design -- one that requires pressure on both sides of the keyhole, as well as the pins inside both cylinders to be in the proper position...”

She looked up at Beckett.

“...It’s easily the most complicated locking system I’ve ever seen on any chest,” she said grimly.

“Can you open it?” asked Beckett.

Carewyn steadied her jaw, her face blanching slightly as she inclined her head in a short nod.

“I think so.”

Beckett got Carewyn the tools she needed. Due to the two-sided nature of the keyhole, she enlisted Percy to help her -- he had far less experience with opening locks, but he followed Carewyn’s directions as closely as he could.

After almost an hour, there was a loud, booming CLICK as all twelve of the dead bolts around the lid popped out and the lid opened a crack, letting off a small gasp of dust.

“You did it!” said Rakepick.

Despite the seriousness of her expression, there was a slight echo of excitement and awe at the back of her voice. She was clearly impressed.

Carewyn stared at the slightly open Chest. Her heart was slamming up against her rib cage anxiously.

Nothing had happened, when she’d opened it -- so had the Chest not been cursed, after all? That was a relief. And Rakepick had said the treasure inside wasn’t cursed, so...

Tentatively Carewyn reached out a hand and slowly eased the lid open.

When she saw what was inside, though, she couldn’t hold back a sharp intake of breath.

The Dead Man’s Chest was devoid of any of the gold or jewels she’d envisioned. Instead, all it held was a slimy, reddish, pulsing, thumping thing about the side of a coconut.

It was a human heart, still beating lowly despite no blood rushing through it.

Percy squeezed Carewyn’s shoulder as he looked down at it too, visibly taken aback.

“Is...that...?”

“The heart of Davy Jones,” finished Rakepick darkly, “first cut out when he was named captain of the Flying Dutchman -- for the Dutchman must always have a captain who’s left his heart behind in the world of the living. Only then can he truly be a subjective judge of the dead and dying at sea...and thus the souls of the damned will not haunt the seas and terrorize all those who sail it.”

Carewyn’s eyes were very wide. ‘Then...the treasure Jones locked away was his own heart?’

Rakepick’s dark blue eyes flickered down to the heart rather pitilessly.

“Not that Jones hasn’t done a fine job of terrorizing those who sail those seas all on his own, over the years,” she added very dryly.

“All the more reason for us to bring Jones into our enterprise.”

Beckett rose from his desk again. Taking a sip from his own glass of red wine, he came around to purposefully take a step between Percy and Carewyn and look down at the heart himself. His lips curled up in a dark smile as he reached out a hand and picked up the heart to get a better look at it.

“Whoever controls the heart of Davy Jones...controls the sea,” said Beckett.

He gave it a rather tight squeeze. Carewyn couldn’t stop herself from flinching.

‘If that thing is still beating,’ she couldn’t help but think, ‘then does that mean that it’s the only thing keeping Davy Jones alive? If so...’

She felt like her own chest was being squeezed.

‘...Beckett’s holding Davy Jones’s life in the palm of his hand.’

For all of the terrifying stories Carewyn had heard about Davy Jones over the years, both on the Revenge and in the Navy, she found herself feeling nothing but righteous anger and pain at this thought. What a disgusting, terrible thing to do to anyone -- no matter how awful a person they were...

There was a loud splash outside the window of Carewyn’s office.

Carewyn, Percy, Rakepick, and Beckett all looked up, to see a giant, terrifying ship erupting out of the waves just outside the fort. It was a sickly gray with torn sails and a bow cut into a set of massive, jagged jaws like a crocodile.

“The Flying Dutchman,” breathed Carewyn, hardly daring to believe it.

Beckett’s smile broadened, actually showing some teeth. “A rather fine addition to the fleet -- especially considering that it can go just about anywhere and travel in record time...”

Rakepick turned to Beckett sharply.

“If that’s the case, the first thing we should do is have him hunt down Black Jack Roberts. I know he made a deal with Jones -- he’ll have a way to track him down and kill him once and for all -- ”

Carewyn’s heart spasmed in horror, but fortunately no one else in the room noticed the fear flashing through her face.

“Didn’t you say you already destroyed the Tower Raven?” said Beckett coolly. “One can hardly see a pirate with no ship as a real threat.”

“Don’t underestimate Black Jack Roberts,” said Rakepick lowly. “By all accounts, he should’ve died, and he would have, if he hadn’t somehow managed to recruit a merman to his crew -- ”

Percy sputtered in disbelief. “‘Merman’ -- you mean, like mermaids? Those are real too?”

“Afraid so,” said Carewyn.

Her mind and heart were both racing, but she tried desperately to keep her cool. She couldn’t let them go after Jacob...or Duncan, either, if he was the merman who’d helped him like she suspected. Now that she knew the true power Beckett now had, thanks to her opening that Chest for him, she couldn’t stand by and let him use it to hurt her brother --

“...I can’t say I know much about Black Jack Roberts, aside from him being captain of the Tower Raven...” she said slowly, “...but it seems to me that attacking one man would be a poor way to use the weapon we’ve acquired.”

All three of the others looked at her. Beckett raised his eyebrows in keen interest.

“And what would you say would be a better way to use it, Commodore?” he asked, sounding intrigued.

Carewyn’s eyes drifted away from the others as she walked up to the window of her office and looked out, her arms crossed behind her back as she went. She tried to keep her face as stoic as possible, even with how scared she truly felt.

‘In order to pass up the chance to hunt down and kill one of the most wanted pirates in the world,’ she thought, ‘I have to offer an even more enticing option...’

The idea forming in her mind made her feel ill.

‘It’s been over two weeks since I saw Jules, Bill, and Charlie,’ she thought very quickly. ‘That’s more than enough time to have made the repairs to the Revolution and get some new crew members, especially if Orion and the crew of the Artemis is helping them. And...whether they’re just leaving or have already left...this way, they’ll know the true extent of the danger. All pirates will know what the Navy’s new weapon is...and can prepare for it.’

She closed her eyes solemnly.

“...I say we send a message to all pirates -- one that makes them tremble in their boots, the way they’ve made merchant sailors tremble at the sight of their black flags...by attacking them where they’ve always felt most safe. By arresting them somewhere they all gather together, in one place.”

She opened her eyes again, her gaze blazing as she turned back to Beckett.

“I say...we sack Tortuga.”

#potc au #au #pirates of the caribbean #carewyn cromwell #patricia rakepick #percy weasley #jacob cromwell #duncan ashe #charlie weasley #bill weasley #jules farrier #finn mcgarry #my art #my writing #my fanfiction #oooooh boy carey #this kind of feels like when you were stuck at the ministry under the death eaters in your canon #having to stay in line while secretly biding your time to try to find a way to defeat the enemy #and also trying to find a way to help the people you love at the same time #she's going to hate herself so much after this whole thing is over though given how paragon she is #she knows practically speaking this is the best way she can help #but it doesn't make it any easier for her to keep her head down even if it is ultimately to try to help others #carewyn has impossible standards for herself as the resident paragon slytherin #she'll hate herself no matter what path she takes honestly #of course rakepick's already giving carey the side eye #wonder why... >>#also percy isn't just wearing the wig because it's a symbol of the 'upper-class' status of his position #but also because remember redheads are considered bad luck at sea?#so he figures people will treat him slightly differently if they don't immediately know he's a ginger on first meeting #and -- yeah sad to say he's right

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buckybabybaby · 5 years ago

Text

Mr Hollywood Finale (Chapter 17)

Summary: Bucky Barnes, an underpaid teaching assistant in a small English village, dreams of a movie career back in his home country of America. He finally gets the break he's always wanted, and if it wasn't for you, his best friend, he wouldn't have been able to take it.

But is that fact enough to save your friendship when it's tested by the pressures of Hollywood?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word count: 1394

Chapter summary: the last one...

A/n: This is really late, and I'm super sorry, just life :( But we've finally reached the end! If anyone is still reading, thank you so much!! there might be an epilogue, we'll see...

(If the picture is all blurry, opening it in a new tab in browser helps!)

Warnings: nothing but fluff

Previous: Chapter 16

Mr Hollywood Masterlist | Main Masterlist

*****

Blinking awake early the next day, the warmth against your back is a welcome reassurance that yesterday wasn't a dream, however much it felt like it was. How can it be that only one full day has past since you arrived? So much has happened it feels like at least a week, surely your first kiss with Bucky wasn't only a couple of hours a go?

Pressing a finger to your lips, the memory of his touch causes a wide smile to spread across your face, which only grows when you turn onto your other side to watch him sleep. Safe in the knowledge that now you're 'official' if he wakes you won't have to pretend you haven't been staring, you study his steady breaths and the way his hair falls across his forehead.

He really is so pretty. These past days away from the set have done him good, a regular sleep pattern clearly makes all the difference, as does the lack of criminal managers making his life hell. His cheek is warm as you gently trace down to the smooth skin of his neck, resting your hand over his collar bone where you can feel his heartbeat. The regular pulse is soothing and the comfort of knowing he's right there with you lulls you back into a light slumber.

*****

When you next wake, the need to stretch your body wins over the desire to stay in bed with Bucky. With slow and careful movements, you peel away the duvet and sit up, replacing the covers once you've stood to keep the heat in and allow him to get the rest he deserves.

Sneaking out of his room just like yesterday morning, your plan to make breakfast in bed and surprise Bucky when he does eventually rise is delayed as the photographs in the hallway you briefly saw on your first night capture your attention.

Sophia's wedding dress was beautifully elegant, exactly as you would expect, and there's one particular picture that showcases it so well, the wispy veil catching the light from the sunset as she and Dayton walk along the shore of the lake, just down from the hotel where they were married. The next photo on also contains Bucky, taking his best man duties seriously. He looks more relaxed in the following shot, celebrating with the rest of the guests as the newly weds emerge from the venue into a shower of confetti.

“Biodegradable petals, of course.”

Winnifred Barnes seems to have materialised out of thin air. Trying to hide your shock at her appearing beside you without warning, you turn to face her, nodding politely with a small smile.

“Mrs Barnes. Good morning.”

“Good morning sweet Y/N. And again, call me Winnifred.”

“Okay,” You whisper, still not daring to address her by her first name. She doesn't push the issue, instead continuing to comment on the images of her youngest son's wedding.

“And the flowers for her bouquet and the tables came from our garden. Picked and arranged that morning.”

“It all looked beautiful.”

“It was.” Tapping her freshly manicured nails against the glass face of one frame, behind which rests an image of Bucky dancing with his new sister-in-law, she sighs. “I remember wishing that day that sometime soon he would be just as happy as Dayton. Little did I know that Day's tragic crash would lead his brother to the one to make him so.”

Opening your mouth to respond, your reply dies on your tongue as you meet her eye, her knowing gaze freezing you in place.

She's not finished. “Maybe we'll have another set of wedding pictures to put alongside these in the near future.”

You gulp. It was late when you got back last night, everyone long retired to bed, so you're sure the family can't know about the change in your relationship status with Bucky yet.

Her smirk tells you different.

“I...” Lost for words, you wish you were wearing something more sophisticated than your new pyjamas for this conversation. This is the first time you've properly talked to Bucky's mother and you can't stop yourself from thinking it's a test, her friendly expression doing nothing to calm your nerves, because if you don't meet her approval then you don't know how you'd survive.

Now you have him you don't ever want to let go.

She can see how uncomfortable you've become and takes pity on you, gently taking your hand and leading you down to the other end of the landing, stopping in front of the photograph of yourself and Bucky.

“This is one of my favourites.”

You look from her to the image of you.

“I didn't expect to see myself up here. I'm not sure I deserve-”

“Of course you do!” She interrupts. “Bucky sent it to me last year and I've been looking forward to welcoming you into my home ever since.”

“Oh.”

She squeezes your hand kindly. “You make him so happy, you don't know how glad I am that you made things up.”

“So am I,” You say, your voice catching.

Mrs Barnes stands up straighter, face turning serious.“I want to thank you for looking after him all that time he was away. He moved to England and we didn't see him again for nearly two years. Knowing he had you, though, I wasn't worried.”

“I don't think I did much.”

“Oh, but you did. Just being there for him was enough.”

There's a moment of silence as you will the tears away.

“I wished, and still do, that he would come home more, but I think he's found a new home. You.”

Now you really are crying.

“Oh, sweet child, come here.”

She holds you tightly as you try not to ruin her jacket with your runny nose. The perfume you helped Bucky pick out for her birthday a few years ago invades your senses, you'd taken an age to find one you thought would be perfect for her, and the realisation that she liked it enough to continue wearing it warms your heart.

A door opening behind you is the cue for her to let you go. You hurry to wipe away the evidence of your crying from your face as Winnifred's own lights up, waving at the newcomer as she winks at you and leaves you alone.

You turn around to find Bucky, all endearingly sleepy eyed and fluffy haired, standing in the middle of the corridor, also in his pyjamas.

He's pouting. “You keep leaving me. Am I ever going to get you to stay in bed?”

You chuckle quietly. “Maybe. With practice.”

“Good job I've got you here for a few weeks then.” He steps into your personal space, hesitating before his next words. “Can I kiss you?”

Again choosing to answer without saying a thing, your mouth meets his as your arms come around his neck to pull him into you. If kissing Bucky is always like this you are sure you'll never get used to it.

Not that you'd want to.

He pulls back eventually, littering soft kisses over your face as you giggle.

“Well,” You breathe, light headed from his simple touch. “Good morning to you, Bucky.”

“And to you, Y/N.” His chin rests on the crown of your head, his arms crushing you into his chest. “What were you and mum talking about?”

“Nothing much.” You lean into his hold. “Just how you need to come home more.”

Nodding against your hair, he hums. “That's fair. I swear I'll try harder.”

“I know it's not easy.”

“Nothing about this life I've chosen is.”

“We'll make it work,” You say, winding your fingers with his and pressing a kiss to each tip. He murmurs his agreement.

“Oh, and by the way, I think your mum is already picking out her outfit for our wedding.”

Bucky snorts, unsurprised. “That's just her way of saying she thinks you'll be around for a while.”

“Yeah? And what do you think?”

“I think I agree. She's always had excellent taste, knew Sophia was made for Dayton before he'd even started dating her,”

You smile at the thought. “That's so sweet.”

“Hmm. And she's never been wrong so I guess you're here to stay.” He smirks at you, bringing you into another kiss, grinning with you when it ends. “Welcome to the family, Y/N.”

*****

The end! Epilogue Part I

Again, thank you so much for reading, it means the world to me!! Lots of love to you all!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #buckybabybaby #Mr Hollywood

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nicolewrites · 4 years ago

Text

coming home - ii

part two of the three part character study!

Sylvgrid week just ended, so have this to celebrate! Part 3 will take a little longer as it of course depends on the time I have to write it. Big shoutout to the Sylvgrid Discord and all my enablers over there <3

Rating: T+ Genre: Angst, Friendship Characters: [Sylvain Jose Gautier & Ingrid Brandl Galatea] Words: 2,433

"In war, there was no home. There was your base and your objective and the distance that stretched between them." / two - five years of war.

AO3

two - war and change

In war, there was no home. There was your base and your objective and the distance that stretched between them. There were no playful dances and drinks shared with good stories or tests to stay up late studying for. There was war correspondence and treaty negotiations and entirely too much blood.

At first, Sylvain stayed at Margravate Gautier. He shadowed his father and wrote letters to Ingrid and Felix and Annette and Mercedes and Ashe. The Empire pushed the war into Kingdom territories. Ashe was the first to stop writing back as Rowe fell quickly to the Empire. Annette’s next letter detailed the fact that Ashe had joined her family at the Dominic Barony. Then Dominic fell and Annette’s letters ceased.

Ingrid’s letters grew increasingly worried and Sylvain felt helpless. Gautier was north enough and far away enough from the front lines that he hadn’t seen any real fights. His father was sending men to fight, of course, but Sylvain had barely left the Margravate.

Felix’s letters were abrupt and short and increasingly angry after Baron Dominic surrendered to the Empire. Felix, unlike Sylvain, had seen the fighting firsthand. He was with his father coordinating attacks and troops and trying to keep the Kingdom’s war effort under control with no thanks to the capital.

Dimitri never wrote. Sylvain wrote him one letter, but then decided to spend his energy elsewhere.

Two months into the war, the Margrave called him into his study.

“You’ve been writing to your friends.”

“Yes.”

“You know, then, that Dominic and many of the Eastern Lords have surrendered to the Empire.”

“Yes.”

“You are going to stop writing to Galatea. You may continue your correspondence to Fraldarius, but you will cease writing to Galatea.”

Sylvain stiffened. “The Count is on our side. He will not cave, no matter the pressure that the Empire places on him. Besides, he borders the Alliance, not the Empire.”

“It does not do well to involve a woman in war.”

And then he understood. This wasn’t a security risk in his letters going to Galatea, it was an Ingrid-risk. Sylvain was suddenly very angry, very quickly.

“And the Count?”

“He made the request of me,” the Margrave replied coolly. He glanced up from his desk and assessed Sylvain. “Take the lance and a cavalry battalion. There have been disturbances at the Sreng border. You are to deal with them. You leave tomorrow.”

Sylvain nearly hurled a chair at his father, but he kept his temper under control and swept out of his father’s office. He penned a letter to Felix asking about Ingrid and if Fraldarius had also been asked to keep her out of the loop. He enclosed a shorter letter to Ingrid as well, explaining that he was off to cause more death and destruction on the border for a while.

The melting snow on the Sreng border quickly became stained with mud and the blood of soldiers. The Sreng warriors didn’t seem to get the hint though, and they kept coming. Day after day they tried to push the border south and day after day Sylvain swung the Lance of Ruin and cut down sons and fathers and brothers.

Two of his horses died and were swiftly replaced. He rode at the front of his troops, commanding them and leading them into battle in the day, but at night he retreated to his tent and wrote letters.

Felix wrote back: he was still speaking with Ingrid, but likely only due to the already existing relationship between Galatea and Fraldarius. Ingrid’s letters came through Felix. He received no more letters from Mercedes.

Sylvain pressed a pen to the paper and couldn’t find the words to describe the slaughter he faced every day. Men died for a line in the sand that moved inch by bloody inch daily. His hands were so stained with blood, he dreaded the day he might hold something other than a weapon. He understood Dimitri’s fear now: the hands of a monster were not fit to hold anything other than a tool of war.

His lance and riding skills flourished under the conditions, but Sylvain missed axes and strength and precision and the rushing feeling of wind around him as he flew above the earth on a wyvern that responded much more instinctively than a horse.

He stayed at the border for three months and they were three of the worst months of his life. His letters took longer to be delivered to his friends and their responses were delayed. But, finally, his father summoned him home and the situation at the border settled to a point where the Gautier troops could mostly retreat back to the centre of the Margravate.

They met the Fraldarius messenger at the edge of the city. The courier insisted he had urgent information for the Margrave, but Sylvain straightened his shoulders and demanded the message himself, first.

The news was worse than he expected: Fhirdiad had fallen and Dimitri was dead.

Sylvain’s head spun. The messenger came from Fraldarius. That meant that Felix already knew and it meant that Margrave Gautier was likely close to the top of the list of people to find out. The ride from Fraldarius territory to Gautier was shorter than the ride from Fraldarius to Galatea.

He sent the messenger onwards to his father and made immediately for the stables. He took a warhorse from the stables and took an axe from the armoury. He gathered what he needed for a four-day ride and called aside three of the knights that had ridden the fastest with him from Sreng. “We ride for Galatea at dusk,” he instructed. “Your orders come from me, not my father. If you don’t wish to come, find me a replacement who will.”

All three of the knights accepted his commands and prepared to depart. Not a word was uttered to his father until they reached the edge of the city surrounding Castle Gautier. Sylvain sent a messenger then, to inform his father that he was riding for Galatea and that he would be back in probably two weeks.

They reached Galatea after four days of exhaustive, intense riding and Sylvain felt ready to fall off of his horse. Instead, he spotted the lone figure riding towards him from Galatea Manor. She was riding bareback and was wearing only riding pants and a casual top, but even from this far away, he could see the murder on her expression and the lance in her hand.

He jumped off his horse so that he was on foot when she reached him and Ingrid dismounted before she had come to a full stop. She recognized him later than he had expected and had barely managed to lower her lance before he drew her into a bruising hug.

“What’s happening?” Ingrid asked, her hands curling into his armour. She sounded lost and upset and Sylvain thought of Dimitri and his voice caught in his throat.

He buried his nose in her hair and exhaled shakily. In his arms, Ingrid twisted, trying to pull away, but he didn’t let her. Finally, she got the leverage she needed and jammed her palms against his chest hard enough that he had to lean away to keep his balance.

She looked confused and stricken. “Why was there an express messenger from Fraldarius here yesterday? Why are you here, Sylvain?”

“Rufus was murdered,” he said shakily. “Rufus was murdered and Cornelia framed Dimitri.”

Ingrid’s hands flew to her mouth in horror. “No.”

Sylvain felt tears burn in his eyes. His voice broke when he continued. “He’s gone, Ing. They executed him.”

Ingrid threw herself against him again as she sobbed. Sylvain clutched her like she was the anchor that held him to the earth. He ignored his bloodstained hands as he hugged her and they cried together. Someone’s knees gave out and they ended up on the ground, holding each other as they grieved for the prince and their friend and their country.

Fhirdiad had fallen and now Sylvain had no home.

Count Galatea begrudgingly allowed Sylvain to stay. He and his soldiers were put up in the meagre guest wing of the manor, but Sylvain understood that his men being here put a drain on Galatea’s resources that was unsustainable.

Sylvain told the Count that he would leave after four days, giving his men just enough time to be well-rested again before they returned to Margravate Gautier. The Count seemed to find this satisfactory enough, though Sylvain knew his presence had seriously pissed off Ingrid’s father.

Ingrid’s father who had been making every attempt to hide the truth of the war from Ingrid. Ingrid’s father who had been trying to ensure that Ingrid didn’t know Dimitri was dead and that Fhirdiad had fallen and that the true Kingdom was starting to lose the war. Ingrid’s father whose plans Sylvain had completely upturned, causing Ingrid to grow furious at her father.

Sylvain hadn’t really expected Ingrid to retaliate, but Ingrid showed up at his door the night before he was set to return to Gautier with a pair of scissors and an expression full of fury. As soon as he had opened the door, she had pushed past him, heading into his adjoining bath chamber.

He watched her hack off her long hair until it was trimmed short around her jaw. The job was fairly uneven and Sylvain didn’t do anything except watch from the entrance of the chamber as Ingrid’s hair tumbled to the floor. Her jaw was set as she did it, but once she placed the scissors down, her expression crumpled.

Sylvain hurried to her and touched her shoulder. She turned to him, her eyes blazing and filled with tears.

“Gilbert said that the execution was concealed. He believes Dimitri escaped.”

Sylvain was surprised. The messenger in Gautier hadn’t delivered that piece of information, but by the anger and the sternness of Ingrid’s expression, he knew that she had wrestled the information out of her father and that she believed it whole-heartedly.

“You think he’s still alive.”

Her hand curled over his where it rested on her shoulder. “We lost Fhirdiad. We lost Dominic and Rowe and we don’t know what’s happened to our friends there. I refuse to accept that we’ve lost him too.”

Ashe and Annette’s whereabouts were still uncertain since the surrender of the Dominic Barony. Mercedes had been in Fhirdiad the last time she had written and there hadn’t been time to confirm if she had escaped too. Dedue also would have been in Fhirdiad, with Dimitri.

“What do you want to do?”

Ingrid smiled at him: a small, watery one, but a smile nonetheless. “I want to find him.”

“Then let’s go.”

She stood up and threw her arms around him. “Thank you,” she breathed. “Thank you for not taking this away from me too.

Sylvain hugged her and said nothing. For all the pain he had caused and felt since the war started, he could not imagine being Ingrid. He could not imagine being a prisoner in her own home where she was not allowed to know the truth of what happened outside her walls. He could not imagine not being allowed to fight for his country: something they had trained their entire lives to be able to do.

They made plans to meet in Fraldarius territory in a few months. They would play along with their parents for a little while longer, but then they would go. They didn’t inform Felix of the plan, but they both knew that he would never let them go after Dimitri without him, even if they were chasing a ghost.

Ingrid saw him off when he left Galatea and there was more life and energy in her eyes than he remembered seeing for a long time. She had a purpose now and it was hers to fill, not her father’s to hide from her. Sylvain was happy to provide her with that. He brushed a hand through her shorter hair when he hugged her goodbye. Her hands were cold when she touched his face softly in farewell, but Sylvain smiled anyways.

Five years passed. Days and weeks and months trickled by with agonizing slowness. Sylvain and Ingrid’s fathers had been furious when they left to search for Dimitri, but Lord Rodrigue provided them with stables for their mounts and supplies for their trip and information that they could use to scour forests and villages across Faerghus.

Felix was furious at his father’s intervention, but Ingrid and Sylvain were grateful for the assistance. Gilbert joined them sometimes too, but most recently, he had been headed east while they investigated a forest to the south.

They were following a bare-bones rumour of murdered Imperial patrols on their way south to the monastery. Garreg Mach had been left empty for five years, but Ingrid insisted that they make their way there for the five year anniversary. It was supposed to be a happy occasion, but she argued that maybe the others would come too and they could see Annette and Mercedes and Ashe and Dedue again and they could join in the search.

In the end, the three of them arrived, already tired, to a battle underway in the outskirts of the monastery. Ashe arrived with Gilbert and Mercedes and Annette arrived together.

Moonlight glinted off a silver lance at the north part of the battlefield as Dimitri cut his way through bandits. The Professor fought beside him, her expression calm and her sword quick as she protected the reckless prince.

After the fight, they regrouped at the foot of the monastery. He grinned at his old classmates and former professor and studied Dimitri with a critical eye. There was something broken about Dimitri; something more broken than it had been five years prior.

Dedue’s death was an unexpected sting. Dimitri’s voice sounded more human when it broke on his friend’s name and Sylvain’s heart clenched uncomfortably. It wasn’t right that their friend was dead. Dedue, who had given him cooking tips. Dedue, who had been grateful to hear his opinion. Dedue, who had taken none of his shit and reminded Sylvain that he deserved to be seen as a human, not a tool or a beast.

Sylvain looked up at the damaged monastery that loomed above him. Even though nothing about the circumstances were ideal, something in Sylvain’s chest jumped excitedly. His friends were almost all here and Dimitri was alive and the Professor was alive.

Despite the horrid circumstances, he was home.

#the writing section #sylvain jose gautier #sylvgrid #coming home #fic: coming home #ii. war and change #f: fire emblem #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #ingrid brandl galatea #c: sylvain jose gautier #c: ingrid brandl galatea #g: angst #g: friendship #r: t #words: 2.4k+#ship: sylvgrid #fe3h #fire emblem three houses fic

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dreamwritesimagines · 6 years ago

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Faint Of Heart 23- Wind Beneath Wings [Ivar x Reader]

A.N.: I love your feedback so much, it makes my day ❤️ Please keep it coming, kisses! ❤️

Summary: Pain doesn’t last forever.

Characters: Ivar x Reader, Ubbe x Torvi, Hvitserk, Bjorn

Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of violence and blood, mentions of sex and arranged marriage, please read with care. Also, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the messed up stuff happening on the show or in here.

Word Count: 4514

Due to the linking issue, previous chapters are in my masterlist! ❤️

Gif’s not mine!

Your sadness had never been easy to overcome, but this?

This was more than mere sadness.

And as it turned out, you had become physically ill due to crying too much, because you had no energy whatsoever to even walk into the halls. Maybe that was the only thing relatively good to come out of this situation, because at least now, no one could question why you had moved out of Ivar’s bedchambers into your own. Torvi and Gala had helped with any rumors that could arise from it within the court, and Bree had helped with your brother and his men, so now, you could just drown in your misery in complete solitude.

As if that wasn’t enough, Eitr was nowhere to be seen again. It had been two days now, and you were beginning to worry, regardless of Gala, trying to console you about how she always came back.

Your heart felt too heavy for you to even move, so you just stayed by the window, perched on the seat with a fur over your shoulders, watching outside. Even the weather felt sad, a snow storm freezing outside.

As cold as your heart.

Or Ivar’s, for that matter.

You blinked back the tears as Gala moved behind you, tidying up your dresses and crowns but both of you turned to look at the door when somebody knocked on it. Gala turned to look at you before she half opened the door, spoke with the guard and closed the door.

“My Queen?”

“Yes?”

“Your brother is here.”

You pulled your brows together, staring at her, “My brother?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “If you want, I could tell the guards-“

“No it’s alright,” You sniffled and took a deep breath before you pushed your body off the seat, almost losing your balance but managing to pull yourself together. “You can send him in.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded, “I’m alright. Send him in,”

Gala walked to open the door, said something to the guard and stepped aside so that your brother could walk in. He stopped at the door, eyeing you up and down before he took a step closer and Gala closed the door.

“Wow,” he said, “You do look terrible.”

You shut your eyes for a moment before you opened them. Even you knew you didn’t look your best, with red rimmed eyes, and dark shadows under them, but you managed to shoot him a small smile.

“You wanted something, Edgard?”

He smiled back, “So what they say is true, you’re ill.”

“Kattegat’s weather is not very forgiving.”

“I can see that, you look like you’re going to die,” Edgard scoffed, “I wonder what would happen if you died.”

“You wouldn’t be upset.”

“No I wouldn’t.” Edgard confessed, “Would you?”

“No,” you shook your head, “I wouldn’t. Why are you here?”

“Bree let it slip that… your husband’s recent crossness is due to you two having to separate your rooms because you’re sick. She says he gets very irritated when he’s away from you, because he’s so in love.”

Bree just deserved to be a queen.

Of course she would convince your brother while making it sound like she wasn’t supposed to say it.

“The king can’t be sick,” you croaked out, “You know that. You’ve been away from Bree multiple times because she fell ill.”

“But unlike your husband, I managed to remember my duties and attend to them.”

Your head shot up, “What?”

“He just sulks, does not attend to any meetings and none of brothers say anything to me. Just yesterday- what’s his older brother’s name? The blonde one, with the long ponytail?”

“Bjorn?”

“He had to pull Ivar back because he almost attacked someone.”

You crossed your arms, trying to ignore the way your heart sunk when you heard his name.

“He does that.”

“A bunch of savages, I’m telling you…” Edgard shook his head, “Anyways. I’ve come to tell you, you need to fix this.”

You pulled your brows together, confused, “What?”

“Go fix this.”

“Fix what?”

“His mood.”

You scoffed, “Why don’t you go fix his mood? Talk about Dorestad or wherever it is you want to-“

“I’m serious. It’s your duty.”

You shrugged slightly, “Edgard, I’m sick.”

“What do I care if you’re sick or not?” he asked you, “You think just because you’re sick you somehow get out of what you’re supposed to?”

“What I’m supposed to?”

“Keeping your husband under control,” Edgard said, “Making your marriage valuable to me, and our country.”

“Your country. I belong in Kattegat now.”

“You forgot about your home that fast?”

“That was never my home.” You swallowed thickly, “Never felt like that either.”

Edgard scowled, rolling his eyes.

“You were always the tragic one,” he stated, “I’d be careful if I were you, you really can’t afford being sick for long. You need to look pretty since- well, we all know that’s why he likes you. Get well soon, sister.”

With that, he left the room and you shut your eyes for a moment,

You couldn’t even feel your legs. In fact, your whole body felt as if it had melted, making you close your eyes in bliss, even though you were painfully aware that you were-

“You’re shaking,” Ivar’s voice was almost hoarse as he panted beside you, and you nodded slowly,

“I- it’ll go away.” You whispered, still trying to pull yourself together.

It had happened. Finally it had happened, you had consummated your marriage and-

Why had no one told you it would feel this good?

“Are you in pain?” Ivar asked you slowly and you looked up at him, then shook your head,

“Are you?”

Ivar shook his head before he reached out to pull you closer to himself, letting you feel the warmth of his skin and you felt your cheeks burn for some reason before you entwined your fingers with his, your eyes finding his.

“I thought it’d hurt more,” you muttered and Ivar chuckled, nuzzling his nose in your hair.

“I’m glad it didn’t,” he whispered, “I don’t… I don’t want to see you hurt.”

You lifted yourself slightly to place a kiss on his cheek, making him smile warmly before you settled in his arms again.

“I didn’t know that we’d- we wouldn’t… that we wouldn’t keep our clothes.”

“Your people consummate their marriages in their clothes?”

“Night clothes, yes. Well- that’s what I’ve heard.”

Ivar scoffed, running a hand over your bare back, “I like my traditions better.”

You giggled, “I like your traditions better as well.”

“My Queen?”

You opened your eyes and tried to smile, “Oh I just…” you shook your head, and looked out of the room, half hoping to see Eitr coming back, but there was nothing on the horizon other than the storm.

“Gala?”

“Yes my Queen?”

“How do you feel, are you alright?”

Gala smiled at you softly, “I am. I’ve had time to think about what has happened and I… I’m grateful for what you did.”

You waved a hand in the air, “I don’t want anyone hurting you,” you muttered, “If you wanted, you could take more time off-“

“No, thank you. I said the same thing to Prince Hvitserk, I’m grateful but I-“

“Hvitserk?”

“He came to see whether I was alright, when I was away.”

You stared at her, “O-Oh?”

“But I don’t want to be away anymore.”

You bit on your lip, “Do you know where he is now?”

“In the woods, they say. He hasn’t spent much time inside, these couple of days,”

You thought for a moment before you threw the fur on the bed, then walked behind your dressing screen,

“My Queen?”

“I’m going on a walk.”

“But you’re sick.”

You scoffed, and grabbed your dress, “Trust me,” you told her, “I’ll be even sicker if I delay this any longer.”

What people said turned out to be true, Hvitserk was really in the woods, training by himself. You stepped through the trees, unsure whether to call out his name or not, but you didn’t have to wait for long to make a decision because he instantly noticed that he wasn’t alone and turned around, still holding his sword tight.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, and lowered his sword while you hugged the fur around you tighter, leaning to a tree.

“Hvitserk,” You greeted him and he averted his eyes for a moment before he took a step towards you,

“I heard that you were ill,” he muttered, “I just… I didn’t want to make things worse, that’s why I didn’t visit you.”

“It’s alright,” You tried to smile, and Hvitserk swallowed thickly,

“How are you now?”

“Not fine.” You croaked out, your smile fading from your lips “I… I’ll get better though.”

“You shouldn’t be outside, it’s really cold.”

“I’m getting used to it,” You sniffled, “But I- I want to know what was said. In that room.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t, Y/N. You’re hurt enough. Ivar doesn’t tend to control his words when he’s angry, and unlike me, this is the first time you’re seeing this.”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat,

“Hvitserk, please.”

Hvitserk threw his sword to the ground, heaving a sigh, and you licked your lips,

“It’s- Ivar misunderstood it, right? He did, and Bjorn is wrong, I don’t… You don’t-?”

“Would it be that terrible to make you cry?” Hvitserk asked silently and you tried to blink back the tears.

“I’m not crying anymore.”

“Your eyes are bloodshot.”

“I’m alright-“

“What did Ivar say to you?”

“What did you say to him?” You asked back, and he shook his head,

“It was never my intention,” he said, “To… imply anything like that. It was just Ivar and his anger, I would never lie about that, not if I knew it’d hurt you. That he’d- he’d hurt you.”

The wind whipped your hair, “What did you say to him?”

“We- we got into an argument, you know how we are when we’re all together.” Hvitserk muttered, “And he kept pushing me, and your name came up, and I told him that he can’t hide everything forever, what kind of a man he is, and I said someone else would...Convince you. Take you away from him eventually.”

“And?”

“And he asked if it would be me.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, “And you said yes.”

“It slipped out, Y/N.”

You opened your eyes to take a look at the cloudy sky, biting inside your cheek, “Slipped out?”

“I’m not Ivar. I’m not trying to hurt you on purpose.”

You ran a hand over your face, letting out a shaky breath, “And none of you thought of- no one in that room thought of asking me what I feel on the matter?”

Hvitserk shifted his weight silently and you let out a small laugh,

“No,” you stated silently, “Of course not. Both of you felt like you knew more about my feelings than I do. My actions. What I would do, how I would feel. Maybe your culture isn’t that different than mine after all.”

“Ivar will calm down, if that’s what you’re worried about. He always does. As for me, Bjorn- no, everyone around me keeps saying that it will go away.” He scoffed, “It always has. I will find someone else to love, don’t worry about that. Bjorn seems pretty sure of it.”

Your heart felt way too heavy to have this conversation, all you wanted was to go back to your bedchambers and hope this was a nightmare- these couple of days were a terrible nightmare that you could wake up from.

No such luck.

“I’m also pretty sure of it,” You heard yourself say before you looked at him, “You don’t love me, Hvitserk. Not like you think.”

His jaw clenched, “But Ivar does?”

“No, neither does Ivar.” Even putting it into words hurt, “I just… I hoped he could. No amount of hoping can make that happen, I can see that now. He wouldn’t be able to say all those things to me if he had any feelings for me, other than hatred.”

A silence fell upon you and Hvitserk took a step towards you.

“My deepest apologies, Y/N,” he said hoarsely, “For having any part in your pain right now. It was never my intention.”

“Likewise,” You nodded, blinking back the tears and turned around to leave, but stopped as soon as you heard his voice.

“I told him,” he said, “I told him, and I told you. We were never supposed to drag you here with us. He brought you to wither and die here, in this cold.”

A painful smile pulled at your lips,

“I’ll survive the cold,” you muttered as you started walking, “You’ve seen me do that before.”

“And then we changed our masks, me and one of my ladies in waiting,” You grinned at the memory, “And then I did everything that I wished to, the whole night! I even went out to the yard, running with others and drinking.”

“And no one knew?”

“Mother would kill me if she knew.”

“Why?”Ivar asked looking down at you while you propped your chin up on your fist,

“It’s not appropriate. She didn’t let me do much, and- even Edgard, she didn’t let him do many things either. Even if we saw her very rarely when we were growing up.”

“You saw your mother rarely when you were growing up?” Ivar asked and you nodded.

“Yes, that’s um… that’s the tradition. We had all these nursemaids and tutors too, but mother always had duties.”

“Did you not miss her?”

You shrugged slightly, “I think it turned out to be better for me. Now I know what not to do when I have children.”

Ivar tilted his head to the right, “What will you not do?”

“I won’t let them feel all alone, that’s for sure.” You said, “And there won’t be any nursemaids either, it’ll be just me.”

“That’s impossible,”

“No it’s not!” You protested, “I will raise them all, and they will be very happy.”

Ivar smiled slightly, “Because you will spoil them.”

“No I won’t!”

“Yes you will,”

“So will you,”

Ivar shook his head fervently, “No way.”

“You will spoil them so bad and I shall laugh at you.”

“You’re very mistaken, little shark.”

You smiled, then pulled yourself up to press a soft kiss on his lips, but before you could pull back, he grabbed your chin to kiss you one more time. You giggled against his lips as he opened his eyes, then tucked your hair behind your ear.

“Maybe,” he confessed, “If they look anything like you, maybe I will a little.”

“Y/N, you really need to stop this.” Bree pulled you by the arm to sit you up in the bed, “Mourning will not help you, haven’t you learned this by now?”

“Bree, please leave me be in my misery.”

“I will do no such thing, get up-“ Bree grabbed your arm before you could slip back into the furs, “I said get up- sit up.”

“Listen, everyone already thinks I’m sick anyway,” you tried to make her see the reason, “Go tell them I still haven’t gathered my strength.”

“I will give you some important news if you get up, get dressed and join us for dinner tonight.”

You scoffed, “I’m not walking into public looking like this.”

“We can make you look pretty again, me and Gala.”

“I’m not interested in looking pretty, I just want my peace.”

“Y/N!”

You rolled your eyes and pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them,

“No,” you stated, “For my whole life, I had to pretend, alright? Back there and here, I always had to smile, always had to look pretty, always had to pretend to be happy, and I- just leave me be. I need some time with my sadness before I start pretending to be happy again.”

Bree arched a brow, “No.”

“Bree-“

“You’re heartbroken,” she waved a hand in the air “Yes. I can see that, it’s painfully obvious all over you. Does not mean you get to feel sorry for yourself.”

“Why not?” You asked her, “Because everyone else says so? Aren’t you tired of pretending, Bree? You pretend much more than me, I can only imagine how tired you are, and what, you will tell me-“

“Yes,” Bree cut you off, “Exactly. I will tell you what you don’t wish to hear.”

“That I have my duties.”

“To yourself.” Bree stated, “Not to anyone else. I’m not telling you to run back to your husband, he broke your heart and you don’t want to see him again, very well. But you’re not going to drown in your sorrows, you’re still the queen of Kattegat.”

“I will still be the queen of Kattegat after I pull myself together.”

“You’ve had days to pull yourself together and I left you be. Not happening anymore.”

“My falcon is gone-“

“She’s a wild animal, Y/N. She will come back.”

You closed your eyes for a moment before opening them again, and heaved a sigh.

“What news?”

“Promise me you will join us for dinner.”

You shrugged slightly, “I will leave very early though.”

“But you will join us?”

“Yes, what news?”

Bree looked abashed only for a moment, making you frown.

“Bree?”

“I may have… threatened your husband.”

“What?!”

“And Bjorn kissed me.”

“Wh- wait, what?” You sat up straighter, “What is happening outside!?”

“A lot of things, and you’re missing everything.”

You waved your hands, motioning her to stop, “Tell me from the beginning. You- you threatened Ivar?”

“Well it wasn’t a threat, it was just… a menacing motion. While talking to him.”

“How?”

“I merely wished him a good dinner for tonight.”

You tilted your head, “Bree.”

“I did! I just happened to be… playing with my ring meanwhile.”

Your brother had gifted Bree a similar ring to yours years ago.

A poison ring.

You gawked at her, “You implied that you’d poison the most feared Viking in the world. To his face. You- Edgard is scared of him, but you threatened him?”

“It was very subtle,” Bree bit on her lip, “Then Bjorn- he was by Ivar and he saw it, and afterwards he pulled me into a hallway and-“

“By the Gods, Bree!” You covered your mouth, still staring at her and she fixed her hair,

“It is very strange, we haven’t even courted each other that much. Vikings do not waste time with silly games, I think?”

“Not the Viking way,” your smile faded slightly, and Bree nodded.

“That’s new.”

“But you liked it?”

She smiled, “Very much.”

“So you would want to be with him?”

“Y/N, you know as much as I do that what I want hardly matters.”

You pulled your brows together, “You’d stay with Edgard?”

“You make it sound as if I have a choice in the matter.”

“Yes you have a choice in the matter!” You insisted, “I told you before. I’m the queen of Kattegat, I can have whoever I wish in my court.”

“It’s also Ivar’s court.”

You clenched your teeth, then shrugged, “Regardless, you can stay if you wish. Would you rather go back to that court? Live there with the queen, with Edgard?”

Bree looked deep in thought before she pursed her lips, and pushed herself off the bed.

“I expect to see you in dinner tonight,” she said, and leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, “Pull yourself together, my queen. Your people await.”

She left the room and Gala walked inside as you groaned.

“My queen?”

You licked your lips and rubbed at your eyes, “Gala, hello. Can you please do my hair?”

To be completely honest, your head was still spinning. You had no idea how you actually managed to walk, not with the way you felt way too tired despite being in bed for days.

It was as if you were drained.

And your nausea made it even worse. You could feel your stomach flipping, but you tried your hardest to pull yourself together, and took a deep breath before turning to Gala.

“Do I look better than before, at least?”

Gala nodded, “I do not believe people will be able to tell you have been sick.”

“Let’s hope not.” You muttered before you walked into the Great Hall, a lot of people greeting you almost immediately while you deliberately avoided looking at the small group at the corner of the room that consisted of your brother, Bree, Ivar, Torvi and Ubbe. Earl Finnr smiled at you while Arna bowed slightly, and Bjorn made his way to you.

“Here, drink this,” he handed you a cup, standing in front of you so that no one from the small group could see you, with his figure shielding you from his eyes, “How do you feel?”

“I think I’m getting better, thank you for your conc-“

“Y/N.”

You heaved a deep sigh and shrugged slightly, “I think I’m still sick.”

“From grief.”

“Heartbreak,” you croaked out, “It’s alright, Bjorn. I… I will pull myself together, I just need some time.”

“I don’t know what he told you, but I can imagine,” Bjorn said slowly, “Ivar’s anger- he does not think when he’s angry, and it’s in no way any excuse, but he’s starting to-“

“Let us not talk of it.” You mumbled, and he nodded,

“Alright. I’ve talked to Hvitserk.”

“Did you know?” You asked, looking up at him, “Before?”

Bjorn nodded, “I tried to stop it, to make him think before it all turned into…” he motioned around, “This.”

“You should have told me, Bjorn.”

“You know how Hvitserk is, Y/N. I honestly thought- I still think it will fade away.”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, then cleared your throat,

“And I’ve talked to Bree.”

Bjorn’s head shot up, and he sipped his drink in an attempt to hide his smile, “Oh?”

“You have my full support.” You stated, “And something tells me that perhaps I might convince her to stay here.”

Bjorn stole a look at Bree who looked like she was in a deep conversation with your brother, “Would she?”

“Stay? I hope she would.”

Bjorn looked down at his drink, “She does not love Edgard, does she? I do not believe she’s happy with him-“

“She’s not happy with him, Edgard can only make people miserable.”

“Sister!”

“Speaking of miserable…” You mumbled as Bjorn stepped aside so that you could see your brother, standing beside Ivar.

“Come join us, will you?”

“You can say no, you know?” Bjorn muttered and you scoffed.

“You’d catch me if I fainted?”

“I’ll be walking right behind you.” Bjorn said as you took a deep breath and walked towards them. You didn’t even spare a glance at Ivar, but smiled at Ubbe and Torvi while Bree winked at you.

“Brother. My-“ you changed your mind mid-sentence, “Your grace.”

Ivar’s eyes stopped on you, as if he wasn’t sure how to respond to that, and swallowed before raising his cup a little.

“My Queen,”

“Well you certainly look better, your majesty.” Bree smiled at you brightly, “I was just telling the king that Kattegat’s weather seems very unforgiving, no wonder you got cold.”

Bjorn nodded, “It can be harsh indeed.”

“I thought after months here I actually learned how cold it could be.” You stated, “But I’m afraid it proved me otherwise.”

Ivar’s gaze was unwavering while Torvi cleared her throat,

“But you do feel better?”

“Very much so, thank you.”

“Well with the way people of Kattegat speak about you, I was certain you’d be pulled through by this by-“ Edgard frowned slightly, “I’m not very familiar with your goddesses. What was her name, the one that favoured you?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, your glare sharpening.

“Freyja.”

As soon as the name left your lips, there was a movement behind you and somebody screamed at the door, making everyone react immediately. Ivar almost automatically pushed you behind him while grabbing his axe and everyone pulled their swords but your jaw dropped as you gawked at the door.

A cast of falcons with Eitr leading them flew through the entrance into the Great Hall, making all the Vikings in the hall freeze. Whispers filled the air as you barely felt your body move on its own accord and you walked past Ivar to approach closer to Eitr, still staring at her, holding your breath.

Eitr flapped her wings in the air, holding a dead snake in her beak tightly. She went a little down, holding the snake at the level of your stomach for only a moment before she dropped it on the ground at your feet and flew up a little, her gaze fixed on you. You could feel your heart beating in your ears as you gulped, then raised your shaky hands, the nausea leaving its place to a strange feeling of serenity.

You couldn’t even feel the sadness that had been consuming you for days.

You trailed your hand in the air, Eitr following it and the other falcons following Eitr. For the first time in days, a genuine smile pulled at your lips as you held your hands still in the air, all the falcons staying where they were before you looked at Ivar over your shoulder, seeing his shocked expression and Ubbe took a step towards him, as if-

Oh.

As if you’d make them attack him.

You eyed him up and down before turning your gaze back to Eitr,

“Come back, alright?” You whispered as you whirled around, the falcons circling you before you whipped your hand towards the door and Eitr led the cast outside as fast as they came in. You lowered your hands, letting out a breath.

And then, sadness turned into anger.

It was almost too sudden, this feeling of power hitting you so hard that it made your head spin. You closed your eyes for a moment before straightening your back, trying to ignore the way whispers filling the hall and you opened your eyes, fixed your crown, then turned around.

Almost everyone –your brother, Bree, Ubbe and Torvi- looked surprised, shocked even, but you could only focus on Ivar who just looked frozen. He gawked at you as you smiled at him calmly, then stepped over the dead snake and approached him to wrap your arms around his neck before you stood on your tiptoes so that you could whisper into his ear, without anyone hearing you.

“I would’ve made them pick out your eyes, just to make you feel what you’ve put me through,” your voice was a bitter hiss, “How fortunate of you that I do not care about you anymore, hm?”

He let out a breath as you stepped back and your falcon flew back inside, then you left the hall without sparing a glance at anyone, with Eitr following you.

Special thanks to: @nympha-door-a @theskytraveler @iblogabout-stuff @mamaraptor @vikrone @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @asongofmarvelanddc @not–even-a-real–fan @alicedopey @thorohdamnson @captstefanbrandt @flowers-in-your-hayr @marauderskeeper @badbitsh13 @superwolfchild-fan @mblaqgi @thescarsweleave @marvelsvalhalla @natalielbeauty @pandalandalopalis @alyssiamarierenee @bloodyivar , @eleanorsparkz @illumminated @itsjoshebelbitch @vikingalexthedane @hangirl93 @mersers-moonypadfoot-prongs @skadithegoddess @geekandbooknerd @katalina-from-hellbound @too-stressed-to-live@supercarricat @sky-daybreak @athroatfullofglass @blushingskywalker @little-froggy @girlwhoisfearless @aikeji @part-time-patronus @actuallyazriel and lovely anons! You are amazing! <3

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rather-impertinent · 5 years ago

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I’m back skimming the later Poldark books, which I will read in full one day, but for now I will continue to search the words ‘Dwight’, ‘Caroline’, ‘Ross’, ‘Demelza’, ‘Enys’ and ‘Poldark’ into the search bar and no one can stop me. Anyway pls enjoy this wee snippet of our fave foursome having dinner together, I love all the small observations between them and the quips. I miss them all a lot, thank God they live on in the books (and in fanfiction, of course) xo

The meal came to its end with nuts and grapes and raisins – and of course port. Demelza sipped her port and stretched her legs. Still lacking a little of the vitality she had had before baby Henry was conceived, she was nevertheless zestful enough for most occasions; and of all the meals of her life these were the ones she enjoyed most. (Saving the noisy family meals, which were a thing apart.) To sup at Killewarren with her oldest and dearest friends, in Ross’s company, was better even than when they came to her. There was no niggling anxiety as to whether the veal would be properly done or whether the poached peaches would be served half cold. Caroline always seemed able to employ better and more efficient servants. Demelza admitted that she was not a very good manager herself. She had never quite got into the way of being angry with servants if they didn’t do what they were told. (Ross could do it in a second; but it was not Ross’s business.) This was the luxury of enjoying an excellent meal and wines without a thought to the kitchen.

‘Please?’ she said, having not heard a question.

‘Dreaming again,’ said Caroline. ‘I was telling Ross that I might be losing Dwight sometime soon.’

‘Very unlikely,’ said Dwight. ‘Caroline is romancing.’

‘Far from it! I know from his manner.’

Dwight said: ‘What Caroline is trying to tell you in her roundabout way is that I have recently received a letter from Sir Humphry Davy. You remember him, Ross: you met him at the Duchess of Gordon’s party.’

‘Yes, of course. And since somewhere, I can’t recollect where.’

‘Sir Humphry?’ said Demelza.

‘He was knighted last year. And is recently married.’

‘To a widow,’ Ross added. ‘Does she not also have money?’

‘A considerable fortune. But I believe they are truly in love.’

‘Money doesn’t prevent that,’ said Ross.

‘No, but it can give rise to unworthy gossip . . . They were here in Cornwall in May, visiting his parents in Penzance. George Warleggan and Harriet invited them to spend a night at Cardew. We were asked to sup there.’

‘Well, I suppose Davy is now the foremost scientist in England.’

Dwight took a nut and cracked it, but did not put the kernel in his mouth.

‘When I met Davy at Cardew he told me of an invitation he had received from France. He has kept in touch with most of the leading French scientists through these latest years of the war. Scientists of note like Ampère, Guy-Lussac, Laplace. Early last year Napoleon himself heard of Davy’s discoveries and achievements, and at once offered Davy unconditional permission to visit Paris and to travel through France and anywhere else in Europe he chose. It is a notable recognition of his achievements. And I think also a notable testimony to Buonaparte’s breadth of vision that in the middle of so bitter a war he should make such an offer to a national of his bitterest enemy.’

‘And Davy? He did not accept the invitation?’

‘Not then. But it was an open invitation, and he thinks of accepting it this autumn.’

Demelza took a sip of port, but no one spoke.

Then Ross said: ‘It’s a different situation now for Napoleon. Then he was riding high, true master of Europe. Now he’s between two fires. I should ask for a further assurance if I were Davy.’

‘I don’t believe Napoleon would go back on his word.’

‘Don’t forget the end of the Treaty of Amiens,’ Caroline said. ‘Ten thousand British tourists interned as prisoners of war. Yourself and Ross escaping back across the Channel by the skin of your teeth. And me alone in this house carrying Sophie!’

‘And this letter you have had from Sir Humphry?’ said Demelza, seeing already how the land lay.

Dwight smiled. ‘He has been told he may take his wife, a couple of servants, one or two friends of like mind.’

‘Such as who?’

‘What?’

‘Such as what friends?’

‘Oh . . . a chemist, a scientist perhaps, not more than two or three. As you will have guessed by now, he has asked me if I would like to be one of them. He suggests that as a medical man I could be of value to them, travelling as they are as a small group in a foreign and hostile country.’

Ross glanced at Caroline, who was frowning with concentration at a black grape.

‘A dilemma.’

‘The letter only reached me yesterday. It is a delectable thought to be able to meet all those French scientists on their own ground. Even to see Paris again, right in the depths of the war . . . But I believe Humphry Davy intends to go on to Italy after his stay in Paris; he has some plans to visit the Auvergne and even go as far as Naples, which would mean his being away at least a year. And that would not be feasible – or tolerable – for me.’

Caroline said: ‘I wonder what the French authorities would feel about it if Sir Humphry brought with him an escaped and unransomed prisoner of war!’

‘I doubt, my dear, if they would be likely to discover it after eighteen years.’

‘Caroline has a long memory,’ said Demelza. ‘We both have! And little wonder.’

There was a tap at the door and Myners came in. ‘Dr Enys, sir. Mr Pope is sick again. A messenger has just come from Place House. It is Music Thomas, who says it is urgent, but of course . . .’

The implication was that Music Thomas was not the most reliable of informants.

Dwight said: ‘Tell Tresidder. Ask him to saddle Parsee. And tell Thomas to go back and say I am coming at once.’

‘Very good, sir.’

When they were alone Caroline said: ‘D’you know it is just about a year ago, isn’t it, that this happened before? You were supping with us, and someone came from Place House asking for Dwight. We must be careful not to allow this to become a habit.’

‘Do you see much of them – socially, I mean?’ Ross asked.

‘Our girls are too young for theirs; and I confess he rather gives me the creeps. She’s well enough – if she would only stop worrying as to whether she ought to be condescending or be condescended to.’

Dwight said: ‘I have visited him monthly since last year. They live in a social strait-jacket. And not only social. It is a queer household.’

‘Did you hear about Jeremy?’ Demelza asked. ‘Mrs Pope fell off her horse, and Jeremy found her and helped her home.’

‘When was this?’

‘Only last week. She sent him a silver stock-pin. Jeremy is quite taken with it.’

‘He might well have been taken with her too,’ said Ross. He added: ‘Do you know anything more of the mine Unwin is supposed to be opening on Mr Pope’s doorstep?’

‘I believe it is hanging fire,’ Dwight said. ‘Isn’t that so, Caroline? You heard something from Harriet Warleggan.’

Caroline yawned. ‘A story that it was to be delayed. To do with copper prices. Chenhalls of course is the moving figure. But Unwin has certainly not been down of late.’

Dwight got up, patted Ross on the shoulder, kissed Demelza on the cheek, put fingers over his wife’s long fingers. ‘Well, I suppose we must not keep the old gentleman waiting. Last time, my dear, I think you offered me a brandy before I left.’

‘What a memory,’ said Caroline.

#poldark #poldark spoilers #the loving cup #romelza #carolight

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catgluue · 5 years ago

Text

What Happens in Xing

I recently hit 100 followers which was super exciting for me! I really appreciate everyone who follows me and/or takes the time to like, reblog, or comment on my writing. It’s a huge motivator and seriously boosts my writerly self-esteem, such as it is.

Anyway this work takes place in my Price of Life/Portrait of a Family AU and so while that context will add to the fic (particularly the last time) it can also be read on its own.

Read on A03

The royal palace in Xing’s capital city was nothing like Riza had ever seen. It was massive - at least the size of a city block, she thought upon first seeing it, but after walking the perimeter one humid afternoon she figured it would be big enough for the entirety of the small eastern town she grew up in to fit comfortably within its walls. Sections of the palace were clearly older, and at least one wing was walled off altogether, in need of repairs. When she’d asked their guide one day he told her that the palace had stood for at least a thousand years, although maybe not in its current form.

It didn’t escape her notice that she and General Mustang were given rooms several floors higher than the bulk of the Amestrian party; one floor higher even than Major General Kent, who was the other officer overseeing the diplomatic treatises and trade agreements they’d come here to discuss. Ling never came out and said as much, but she was certain that their rooms were some of the nicer ones in the gigantic palace: her room boasted a bed that could have fit three of her, a huge claw-footed tub, and a floor-to-ceiling window that gave her an impressive view of the city. She’d made a point, several times, to get up early and watch the sun rise over the sloping buildings so different from those at home.

To her immense surprise the official business had been wrapped up around four days into the weeklong trip, at which point General Kent and his men promptly packed up and took the next train out.

“I suppose we’ll be leaving tomorrow as well?” Riza asked General Mustang as they stood on one of the massive balconies that overlooked the city. Nights brought some relief from the wet heat of the day; a gentle breeze blew over the wide river and across the city, making the heavy woolen uniform seem less oppressive.

“Of course not, Captain,” he said mildly. “Our train doesn’t leave for days; it’s far too late to change it now. You might actually have to take some time for yourself and relax a little. I hope that won’t prove too much of an inconvenience.”

Riza didn’t think she’d had a moment to herself to sit and read a book for close to a year and a half now what with the business with the Homunculi, Ishval, and now the Xing excursion.

“Not at all, Sir,” she said crisply, but she was smiling as she met his gaze.

The next few days they drifted around as civilians, generally together as holiday or not she was still his bodyguard, but the amount of Xingese bodyguards lent to them by the Emperor meant that Riza felt comfortable occasionally acting as ships in the night. After all, the museum of alkahestry didn’t particularly appeal to her and the General was none too interested in seeing the wing devoted to the development of gunpowder. At one point Riza looked up from her book across the sunroom - a space with a glass roof to let light in, and a large fountain bubbling away in the middle that had quickly become one of her favorite haunts - to see Mustang in his shirtsleeves, heavily engrossed in something he’d borrowed from the Imperial library, a cup of tea in his hand. Occupying the same space as him and seeing him rested, at ease, living again was a gift she didn’t deserve but would value anyway. As though he felt her staring he’d looked up and offered a small smile. She blushed and ducked her head to go back to reading her book.

It was the morning of their last full day in the country: tomorrow they would be on the noon train heading back to Amestris. They were originally scheduled to go back yesterday- in fact the bulk of their accompanying military personnel had left - but she and the General, with a handful of soldiers, had stayed. She was standing straight-backed at Mustang’s right shoulder, thinking that if she’d been any worse a soldier she would have snuck a peek at her pocket watch already, when the reason for their delay finally entered the imperial throne room.

It was still strange seeing Alphonse Elric as a human and not as a suit of armor, but it was refreshing to see him looking robust and healthy, not like the frail wisp of a thing he’d been when they put him on the train, barely strong enough to walk on his own after The Promised Day. He and May Chang, now a young woman, made their way up the long carpeted entryway and bowed to the young emperor. Ling rose from his seat, inclined his head, and the ceremony seemed to be over.

“They certainly like processions,” the General murmured, soft enough that only she would be able to hear, while Ling and May said their informal hellos, which seemed to involve quite a lot of teasing, she noted with a smile. There was going to be a parade in a few hours, ostensibly as a homecoming for May, who had been traveling for the better part of a year, but realistically as an excuse for Ling to throw another lavish feast.

“I don’t see the harm,” she whispered back.

“Six feasts since we’ve been here, and this is the third parade,” he muttered. “It’s a little much.”

“Colonel - Oh sorry, it’s General now right? Brother mentioned in one of his letters,” Al said as he approached, offering a hand shyly but not looking at all upset when the older man pulled him into a hug instead. Not something he would have tried in-uniform but technically they were using vacation days for this last leg of the trip. With the exception of the parade later on they were dressing and acting like civilians.

“Hi Captain Hawkeye,” May said a little shyly, and Riza turned to smile at the younger woman.

“Hello May. You’ve gotten so tall,” she said. It was true; though still on the shorter side, May had grown half a foot since Riza had seen her last.

“And pretty,” Mustang added, ever the charmer. Al came over to wrap Riza in a hug and she was struck again by how much things had changed. He was taller than her, broad-shouldered and with a striking similarity to his brother, although even nearing twenty Alphonse’s face remained cherubic. She’d changed too, of course: there were lines by her eyes that hadn’t been there five years ago, and she’d cut her hair off and grown it out again, so that it now sat a little below her shoulders. Recently the heat had her thinking about cutting it as short as she’d had it when they first moved to East City all those years ago. The General was pulling something out of his pocket; a book wrapped in ribbon, and handing it to May. “I brought you something,” he said.

“Oh that wasn’t necessar- OH, General Mustang! Where did you get this?”

“You can call me Roy, and there’s certainly more where that came from, my connection is very reliable.”

“He’s talking like he got that book off the black market,” Riza said to Al, who just grinned.

“He might have; it was banned thirty years ago for the author’s, ah, unconventional ideas.” He wilted immediately under the look she gave him and put his hands up. “Nothing all that bad, promise, he was just before his time where some aspects of medical alchemy were concerned. His ideas are really interesting, if you-” Riza held a hand up.

“I’m afraid anything else is going to go over my head,” she admitted, still eyeing the book. The cover was roughened leather that still bore traces of gold leaf, and everything about this, from May’s reaction to Al’s explanation spoke to the book being very hard to get ahold of and also very expensive.

“How did you know?” May was squealing, arms clamped tightly around the General’s waist, her precious new book in her hands. Alphone grinned broadly as he pried her off of Mustang, standing with an arm casually slung over her shoulders as she turned the book over in her hands.

“I have my sources,” the alchemist revealed, with a wink at Al. “I do try to stay in touch, even though your brother and I have this game where he hangs up on me the first time and I have to wait for Winry to answer the phone and make him take the call.”

“But this must have been so… I mean, thank you very much,” May said. Riza knew enough about nonverbal communication to know that something in the look Al gave her told her to drop the subject. Her own sharp look at the General was met with careful avoidance. There was of course nothing wrong with bringing a gift to an eager young scholar, she reasoned, and let the matter go.

-x-

This was the third parade, but Riza was no less unsettled than she’d been at the first. Parades were liabilities, plain and simple; you might as well paint a target on the back of every person of interest who set foot within a hundred yards of the garish floats and ostentatious musical pavilions. She would have far preferred being a spectator; they milled around eating thornapples and skewered meats and waving miniature pinwheels. She realized suddenly that she hadn’t really been to an event in years that didn’t involve her acting as bodyguard.

“Stop dancing around me, Hawkeye,” the General muttered after the fourth time she switched from his right side to his left.

“We aren’t properly staffed, Sir,” she replied. “I want to be sure I’m able to spot any possible threats.” He waved a hand dismissively.

“We’re in the center of a platoon of soldiers.”

“And the only ones in Amestrian uniforms in this section of the procession,” she pointed out. “We’re sitting ducks.” Mustang ignored this, tugging at his collar.

“I wish we’d get a move on, it’s sweltering .”

She had to admit it was; wool uniforms and humid summer air didn’t mix particularly well. They’d been in Ishval earlier this year overseeing reconstruction plans but it had been spring and they only had to contend with the dry heat that was more typical of the desert. Here there was no escaping the damp summer air. At long last the parade started moving, snaking its way through the city. They would loop around the outskirts of town and then end up back at the palace. The whole thing would last over an hour.

They were situated at the front of the same float they’d adorned for the previous two parades; a burnished gold monstrosity that Riza supposed was supposed to be a fish. Only this time instead of their military escort they were standing with a handful of Ling’s soldiers, with May seated on an ornately decorated chair reminiscent of a throne that was situated on the dais and Al just below. May had looked slightly uncomfortable at first, but soon adjusted, smiling and waving to the crowd as they trundled along.

With less people there was more surface area and therefore more blinding gold to contend with. Riza resisted the urge to shield her face with her hand as the sun danced across the multifaceted surface. The General looked to be concentrating deeply on something, but as she followed his gaze she didn’t see anything amiss.

“Cenz for your thoughts, Sir?” she asked and he seemed surprised.

“I’m thinking that the second we get back to the palace I’m getting a pitcher of iced wine and sitting next to one of those massive indoor fountains,” he said, and flashed her a grin. “You’re welcome to join me of course.”

She opened her mouth to say that actually they had some reports they could stand to go over and should probably pack as well when there was a sudden flash of movement overhead, and something hot and bright burst inside their float. Instinctively Riza flung her body sideways, into the General, forcing him to the floor and shielding his body with her own. For a few harsh moments she was far away, both in time and place, in a different desert, with a different threat, following the same man. Her breath caught in her throat as she willed herself back to the present, to Xing and the Parade. A few moments of relative silence passed, and she hesitantly looked up to see Alphonse and May also climbing to their feet, May’s ornate chair merrily burning under the ruins of a massive Xingese firework. There was a snort beneath her and she looked down to find that she was nose to nose with Mustang.

“A rogue firework,” he said, regarding the object. She couldn’t tell what exactly he did but a second later the flame was snuffed out, starved of oxygen.

She got to a sitting position, looking around at the crowd, but everyone seemed to be carrying on as usual, the spectacle over. With the sheer amount of explosives Xing boasted this can’t have been the first untimely detonation they’d ever seen. May was standing at the front of the float waving as though nothing had happened, Al at her side.

“You can probably let me up now,” he remarked dryly and Riza looked down to find she was still straddling his midsection. She got to her feet and offered a hand to help him up and he smoothed his uniform down. Was it the heat of the uniforms, or were his cheeks tinged pink? Hers felt hot too and she looked away towards the crowd. How many times had she pushed him aside, or covered his body with her own in times of danger, and yet she had never been as thrown off-kilter by the feeling of their bodies pressed against each other. Even through two sets of uniforms it was a sensation that made her breath catch somewhere behind her sternum.

Stoically she moved a half-step behind him, and the parade went on.

-x-

After a very long and very convoluted feast, they walked back to their rooms in a comfortable silence.

“You know Captain, I’ve got a bottle of nice Xingese wine and a balcony, if you’d like to watch the fireworks,” he offered. She considered a moment; as the senior officer, his room was nicer. Hers was next door and had a nice large window, but no balcony to speak of.

“All right,” she said, surprising him as well as herself. “Let me change out of my uniform and I’ll be right over.”

She stopped in her room long enough to change into a soft knee-length skirt and hesitated before putting on a lightweight sleeveless shirt she would normally only wear to sleep in, because the top of her tattoo could be seen peeking out of the top. Her hair covered it, however, and the night was warm enough that she’d be glad to wear less fabric. She padded to the connecting door and knocked lightly.

He’d also changed, into a button down and slacks, and handed her a glass of deep purple-red wine as she walked in, which she sniffed at before sipping; they were fond of fortified wine here and so the vintage was peppery with a hint of berries and nutmeg that burned pleasantly on the way down.

“I think they’re about to start-” Mustang was saying, but was interrupted by a loud pop , and a bright display of color and crackling out over the city. Mesmerized, Riza drifted through the room and out the open glass doors to what was admittedly a very nice patio. It was large, with a iron-wrought table and chairs near the doors, a few potted plants, and an actual sofa towards the other end. Bypassing the furniture entirely, she walked to the rail and settled her elbows on it to wait for the next eruption.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” she breathed, as Roy came to stand next to her, elbow barely brushing hers.

“I have,” he replied. “Not for years - they used to set off fireworks in Central every year on New Year’s Eve. But they stopped around the time I went to learn under your father.”

“No wonder you weren’t impressed by the sparklers we got from the village,” she mused, lips quirking upward in a smile. He had the grace to look embarrassed.

“I really was quite the insufferable city boy, huh?”

Two more glasses of the heady Xingese wine and they sat on the couch, her leaning up against the pillows with her legs bent over his lap, him sitting upright, absently tracing a finger around the bruising on her knee that had appeared after the scuffle at the parade.

“That was close, earlier,” he said finally, and she looked up.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been attacked by a firework before,” she said dryly. “They’re very loud up close.” A warm feeling had settled somewhere in her stomach, courtesy of the wine, the fireworks, and the General’s proximity. The General’s proximity which was… entirely too near, now she stopped to think about it. She made to swing her legs off the couch so they wouldn’t be so entwined, but the weight of his arm across the bend in her legs stopped her.

“Don’t, please. Just… don’t. Let’s enjoy this.”

Normally she would protest out of some sense of country and duty but the wine and the warm summer air had affected her in equal measure, so she sat back against the pillows without another word. His hand that was tracing her bruises drifted up her thighs to trace the end of her skirt, however, and she cleared her throat.

“That was nice of you, to get that book for May. What made you think of it?” she asked, believing that to be an innocent, diffusing question. Diffusing of what, she didn’t quite know, she just had a vague sense of something needing to be doused. He chuckled, and the warm burning in her belly intensified.

“You’ll think I’m being sentimental but I kind of feel like I owe her one.” At her puzzled look he shrugged. “On The Promised Day, if she hadn’t jumped in to heal you when she did… she saved your life.”

“So shouldn’t I be the one giving her presents?” Riza asked, amused. His eyes were oddly intense, and her smile quickly vanished.

“I almost lost you,” he said seriously, and he reached out, seemingly without meaning to, and caught a strand of her hair between his fingers, and it occurred to her how close they were sitting. “So no, it’s me who owes May Chang a debt I can never really repay.” a firework went up, and popped into the inky black night, illuminating them and for a moment time stood still.

“I’ve always been ready to die in pursuit of our goals,” she breathed, not knowing what else to say, unable to tear her eyes away from his.

“And if that’s what it takes to reach the top, I don’t want it,” he told her firmly. His hand was now resting gently on her chin, and she was surprised to find her own fingering his collar. She wasn’t sure if he was leaning in or if she was, but their noses lightly bumped together and he froze. “Tell me not to,” he said softly, like a prayer.

This was an order she couldn’t obey. She closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his, just as another firework crackled overhead. This was dangerous, she thought as she slid down on the cushion, using her hands on his collar to pull him down with her, something he was all too eager to comply with, sliding a hand behind her knee to hitch it over his hip. His body was a comforting weight on hers, and made this moment seem weighty and real, a culmination of what she had come to accept as pointless longing for something that needed to remain forever out of reach.

She ran her hand up through the back of his hair, tugging lightly as she kissed him hungrily. He ground his hips against hers and she gasped at the contact, hand resting lightly on the side of his face as he pulled gently away. For a moment they just looked at each other, and she found she was able to read the question in his eyes as easily as ever. Her lip quirked and at her silent response, he bent to trail kisses down her throat.

She wasn’t sure how they’d managed to make their way back into the room, stumbling into door frames, shucking off clothes as they went. How strange that she’d known him for so many years, through so many triumphs and failures, but yet there was apparently still so much to learn. There was a particular sound he made when she grazed his neck with her teeth that was new, and so enticing she half-laughed as she brought her lips once more to his. Her naked back hit the cool silk of the sheets on his bed and she sighed as he kissed his way down her body.

The light from the fireworks lit the room through the open patio doors, but they hardly noticed, engrossed in each other with the heady desperation of people who were seizing an opportunity that may never come again.

-x-

Riza’s first thought upon waking was that she’d had too many glasses of strong Xingese wine. Her second was that there was an arm securely wrapped around her waist. Her third was that she was completely naked. She made to sit upright but the arm was utterly unyielding, so she settled for covering her face with her hands.

“Oh no,” she said out loud, and the body behind her snorted slightly, shifting under the thin topsheet that covered them.

“Wh- Hawkeye?” for there could be no mistaking her for anyone else he might have taken to his bed; he was face to face with her scarred back. She winced, thinking about the rude awakening that must be.

“Good morning, Sir,” she said tightly. The most embarrassing thing was that they hadn’t had all that much wine. Yes they’d been tipsy and she now felt like she needed to drink a whole pitcher of water, but she remembered everything. Oh how she remembered. She felt heat rush to her face as she rolled over, his arm still around her waist, to look at him.

“Good morning,” he said, eyes meeting hers and then drifting lower. She cleared her throat, studiously avoiding looking anywhere but his face.

“So this was a colossal fuck-up,” she said. “Sir.” He sat up on one elbow, leaning over her as he swept her bangs out of her eyes and leaned in to brush his lips to her neck.

“Mmph,” he said, and she took that as assent. The arm that had been situated across her hips withdrew, and his fingers ghosted over her hips, around to her stomach, and dipped lower, brushing between her thighs. She caught his wrist delicately and pulled his hand upward.

“We can’t,”

“We most certainly can,” he told her, kissing her hotly below her ear, “and have.” She sighed. Well the damage was done, it seemed early enough, and the way he was nibbling her earlobe was causing a familiar warmth to pool behind her navel. Using her legs and the element of surprise she rolled him over onto his back. He ran his hands up her thighs to her hips, grinning up at her wolfishly.

“Once more couldn’t hurt, I suppose,” she acquiesced, and bent to hiss him.

After, as she lay in his arms, both of them covered in a fine sheen of sweat, the panic really began to set in. He cleared his throat, apparently, and as usual, thinking along the same lines she was.

“What now?” he asked, seeming to echo her thoughts. “Do - should we figure out how to continue this when we’re back in Central?” She sat up on one elbow and regarded him seriously, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Do you want to?” she asked. He turned pink and avoided her eyes.

“More than anything in the world, but -”

“Not more than anything,” she finished for him. “I’m glad we agree. We’ve come too far; we’ve lived through too much to risk it.”

“Riza,” he said, and her name on his lips was both foreign and so familiar it made her chest ache and for a moment she couldn’t meet his eyes. “You have to know that I-” she leaned down and kissed him soundly, her hair falling in a curtain as though to hide this brief moment of weakness on both of their parts from the world.

“Please don’t say it,” she said softly. “It’s going to make it so much harder to forget this.”

“But you know,” he breathed, and she nodded, blinking hard.

“I do. And… me too.”

-x-

Six weeks later Riza stood up from the bathroom floor, wiping her mouth, feeling as though a cold bucket of water had been upended onto her as she thought hard, counting weeks and sinking further and further into a certainty tinged with wild panic. This wasn’t the first time she’d been sick lately, and she had a suspicion it wouldn’t be the last.

She washed her hands robotically, thinking hard.

They had been so concerned with bureaucracy following their… indiscretion, that she hadn’t even stopped to consider biology. That there could be ramifications beyond losing their jobs. Since returning to Amestris they’d been particularly careful not to spend time alone, and a touch formal, and sometimes he looked at her in a way that made her face heat up, but everything had gone back to more-or-less normal. She had thought - they had both thought - that they’d gotten away with it, and they could put it behind them with nothing but a pleasant memory to remember it by.

She pressed a hand to her still-flat lower stomach. What would people say?

Well of course they’d say the obvious. She hadn’t caught wind of rumors regarding her and her commanding officer in years, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t there, simmering gently despite no evidence. They had been very careful never to act improperly towards each other. She would have to come up with a plausible story, and furthermore she would need to make sure that the General reacted in a way that spoke of his innocence in the matter.

Riza eyed herself in the mirror; a hard-eyed soldier stared back at her. As much as it made her feel like a hand was clenching around her heart, this child wouldn’t be able to know its father. Riza would do this alone because she had no other choice. She needed to protect him. She needed to protect them both.

-x-

“Hawkeye you have to talk to me.”

It was four days after her in-office revelation, something she had done specifically not to arouse any suspicion, and yet here he was, on her doorstep in the middle of the night, and she had a strong hunch that he’d been at his aunt’s newly reestablished bar. Riza wasn’t sure what she had expected but he hadn’t been taking the news well, she could see it in the lines beneath his eyes in the office today, in the flat quality to his voice when he spoke to her. She opened the door further and waved him inside to avoid making a scene where people might see.

“You’ve been avoiding being alone with me for days, please,” he said, standing in the middle of her living room and looking utterly lost, dark eyes wide and hair mussed.

“I haven’t…” she trailed off - denial was no good, not with him. “I haven’t known what to say to you. It’s a setback, to be certain.”

“A setback , try a disaster! I can’t BELIEVE we didn’t- That I didn’t - ”

“There’s no use blaming yourself. We can’t exactly take it back now” she said quietly, and brushed past him to put the kettle on. When she turned back around he’d sunk down onto her couch and was running a hand through his hair.

“What do we do now? Do we run away to Xing? We could, you know,” he said, looking up but not at anything in particular. “Ling would find a place for us, you could be his bodyguard and I could be Royal Alchemist or Official Firework-Starter, or-”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We stay, and we work, and I… I’m going to raise the child of a random Xingese courtier who shall remain nameless.” A knot had settled somewhere deep in her chest and she doubted it would come undone anytime soon. “And if the rumors get to be too much and they threaten your career, I’ll disappear.”

“With my child? Like hell you will,” he said, voice rough. This gave her pause. The clock on her mantle had never sounded so impossibly loud in the stillness of her apartment Slowly, she walked to the couch and reached out, not quite touching, fingertips grazing the fabric at his shoulder.

“You realize it can never be your child,” she told him softly. He put his head in his hands.

“I’m aware.”

She sat next to him and hesitated, before wrapping her arms firmly around his shoulders. He leaned into her, and she let her head fall to gently rest against his. For a while all they did was breathe together, in and out, soothing each other by sheer virtue of being present. A heaviness settled over them and Riza doubted they would have another moment together like this again. She turned her face into his shoulder; she would not cry, not now, not in front of him. There would be time for that weakness later.

“This is going to be a nightmare,” he said after a moment.

“We can make the most of it.”

“Can I just ask you for one thing?” he looked up at her. “It might be a bad idea under the circumstances but the baby… if it’s a boy, can we name him after Hughes?” This was a bad idea, she thought. It would be the obvious choice for a child of Roy’s. But she had known and loved the man as well, and it couldn’t be seen as that unusual that she would choose to honor a fallen comrade when naming her firstborn. She nodded, running a hand down his arm and lacing her fingers through his.

“I think we can do that.”

It was a girl, but they named her after Maes anyway.

#royai #michelle writes #fmab #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #fluff #and angst #flangst #my favorite flavor of angst

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