#alternately a breeze came up and blew sand into all the eyes

[zarla-s]

Angels are divine beings. We are beyond emotions.

I was talking with @sysig about angel!Edgar’s extra eyes emoting even if he isn’t and I had to do something with that idea, haha.

[patreon]

[radiantroope]

Passed Around || JJ Maybank

pairing: jj x reader

mentions: john b, pope, kiara

requested: no

summary: everyone in the outer banks has their opinions of you. a touron with a smart mouth learns just how quick jj will come to your defense.

warnings: underage consumption of drugs/alcohol, swearing, violence, blood

author’s note: i just started writing randomly and this was the product, enjoy.

masterlist | add yourself to my tag list

* i do not own this gif! if it’s yours, please let me know so i can properly credit you! *

Of course, there was another party at The Boneyard. No surprise there. Summer or Winter, there was always a party. The amount of people that filled the beach always somehow managed to surprise you, especially when it was off season for the tourists. Sometimes you’d still get a couple; people visiting family who lived on the island for Thanksgiving or Christmas.

It was the beginning of December and you’d just arrived at the beach, already hearing thumping music and loud laughter. The brisk ocean air was much colder than you preferred as it came off the ocean. You were yearning for those hot Summer nights again.

You pulled the jacket you were wearing tighter around yourself and continued on your way down to your friends. Just as you hopped over one of the dead and forgotten trees, you heard a shout of your name. You looked to the kegs and smiled when you saw Kiara waving her arm.

As you approached her, you raised an eyebrow at the three kegs set up. Three, how did they manage to score three? You didn’t ask, sometimes you were just better off not knowing. You gratefully took the plastic cup John B passed you and quickly drank some of the bitter liquid.

“Rough day?” the curly haired boy raised an eyebrow at you.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes but ranted anyway, “My grandma is still here. She was supposed to leave after Thanksgiving and now my parents tell me she’s staying all the way through Christmas! If I have to listen to her talk about what college I should go to or about boys any longer, I’m gonna go insane!”

“Does- she doesn’t know about JJ?” Kiara asked with her brows furrowed.

“Oh, she does, but she’s in some alternate reality where she thinks I’ll marry a Kook and be a trophy wife,” you retorted with a sarcastic smile on your face, “My mom’s told her a hundred times that JJ and I are together and nothing will change that.”

You looked over your shoulder at the said blonde who was sitting in a circle with some other teenagers. You saw smoke pillowing through the air and were hit with the faint smell of weed. JJ’s cerulean eyes caught yours and he smiled, waving for you to join him.

“Go, we’ll catch up about your crazy grandma later,” Kiara said, smiling at you.

You smiled back at the girl and turned to walk towards your boyfriend, calling over your shoulder, “Love you, Kie!”

You and JJ had gotten together about nine months ago. Years of longing looks and lingering touches were driving your friends insane. How could two people be so oblivious? Everyone knew your hearts were set on each other, but the two of you were always too stubborn to admit it. Plus, you didn’t want to be the one to break the no macking rule.

One day at the Chateau it boiled over when one of your hookups over stayed his welcome. JJ woke up for the third morning in a row to find the guy helping himself to his stash. He lost it. He wailed on the poor boy and literally kicked him out the door. This resulted in you insisting you liked him and the blonde calling bullshit.

“How do you know how I feel, JJ? You don’t!” you’d screamed, stomping your foot like an angry toddler who’d just been told no as you tried to get your point across.

“Yes I do! Pope told me you’re in love with me!”

Yeah, Pope spilled the beans after you made the drunken confession one night. You swore him to secrecy, but that boy couldn’t keep secrets to save his life most of the time. You still to this day would never let him live that down. But how could you stay mad at him when it resulted in the best possible outcome? JJ was yours, and you were his, finally.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” you flirted as you walked over to the blonde boy.

JJ smiled and laughed, shaking his head at you, “You’re rediculous.”

“But you love me,” you stated as you plopped yourself on his lap, sitting most of your weight on his thigh. His arm wrapped around your waist tightly and he pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek.

“Damn right I do.”

You watched as a blunt was passed around the group and listened in on the conversation, chimming in now and again. You took a few puffs yourself when JJ held it up to your lips. You weren’t a big smoker though. Half of the time it made you more anxious than it calmed your down.

JJ had gone to get you both refills on your beers but got distracted talking to Pope and John B. You took his seat and turned to watch him, smiling when he laughed and his eyes crinkled at the corners. His bright white teeth sparkled in the glow of a fire that was going. You watched as the breeze blew his cut off tank and you caught his muscles tense at the cold hair.

“So you and Maybank, huh?” a voice caught your attention and you whipped around.

A Touron, Dominic, who frequented the island this time of year sat in front of you. He had shaggy dark brown hair that was straight and fell around his face, barely touching his jaw. His eyes were a beautiful mossy shade of green. You probably would have hooked up with him in the past is he wasn’t known to be such an ass. He ran around with Rafe and his goons during the day and spent his nights on The Cut causing trouble. He was nicknamed “girlfriend stealer” after many-a-hookups that resulted in ended relationships.

“Yeah,” you responded blandly. There was no way in hell you were going to entertain this kid. He took pride in stealing people’s girls; you would not be one of them.

“You could do better,” Dominic remarked, an infuriating smirk growing on his face. You resisted the urge to slap it right off.

“Like you?” you scoffed, eyebrow raised. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”

“C’mon, Y/N, don’t act like you don’t want to. I remember the way you used to look at me.”

You clenched your jaw and pressed your lips into a line. You stared at him with a blank expression, the smirk on his face growing. He opened his mouth to say something else but was cut off.

“Everything okay over here?” JJ asked from behind you.

He’d seen the way Dominic was looking at you. He knew the game the little shit was playing, and it was a dangerous one. The group of teenagers in the circle you were sitting in looked between the three of you nervously. They all knew better than to push JJ, especially when it came to you. He was quick to fight - even quicker when it was over you.

“Yeah man! Just telling Y/N here she used to be a lot more fun before she got a boyfriend,” Dominic replied casually, shrugging his shoulders a bit.

You stood up and turned to face JJ, seeing that he’d handed your drink refills off to John B and Pope who stood behind him. He’d been anticipating this the moment he saw you two talking. You put your hands on the blonde’s chest and stared up at him.

“Let’s just go, J. It’s not a big deal.”

“Nah, I want to hear what he has to say,” JJ pushed your hands off his chest, eyes never leaving the brunette who was now standing.

Dominic snickered and pushed his hair back off his forehead, saying, “I heard she got passed around quite a bit. Rafe sure had a lot to say about her. Was hoping I could find out for myself.”

Low blow, asshole, you thought to yourself, feeling your stomach sink at the mention of the oldest Cameron sibling. You’d messed around with him long before you and JJ got together, Topper too. It put a rift between you and the Pogues for a while. They didn’t care who you slept with, as long as they weren’t Kooks, but you did what you wanted. JJ was the most upset. You were sleeping with the enemy.

JJ went to walk around you, ready to pummel Dominic into the sand. You grabbed the front of JJ’s shirt and pushed him back with all of your strength. You hated when he got in fights. You couldn’t watch. Most of the time he won, but when he didn’t, you had to clean him up. You tried to keep him out of them the best you could.

“Don’t, JJ, please,” you begged, pushing against his abs, “It’s not worth it.”

JJ’s eyes flickered down to yours, his cold gaze softening a bit when he looked at your pleading face.

“Wow, they weren’t kidding. You really are her bitch,” Dominic said through a laugh when he realized you were convincing JJ not to fight him.

“Shut the fuck up!” you yelled over your shoulder, pushing your boyfriend back once again.

It was useless, JJ managed to get past you, your hands grabbing onto his arms and shirt - whatever you could get ahold of to keep him back. John B grabbed your arm the second the blonde’s fist hit Dominic’s face. You looked back at your curly haired friend and he simply shook his head. Not even Pope moved, they were going to let the guy get his assbeat for talking about you like that. No one talked about you like that.

“Don’t ever talk about her like that again!” JJ yelled, arms swinging, “I’ll kill you, you hear me?! I’ll fucking kill you!”

You tried to shout your boyfriend’s name over the cheering from people watching the fight. He couldn’t hear you, still standing over Dominic who’d been knocked down. He landed blow after blow against the Touron’s face.

“Alright, JJ!” John B yelled, stepping forward.

“He’s had enough, man!” Pope added.

You breathed in deeply through your nose and closed your eyes for a second. As you opened your eyes, you screamed JJ’s name as loud as you could. It was so loud, everyone went quiet and their eyes turned to you.

The blonde froze, fist still pulled back mid swing. His anger fueled frenzy was over and he was brought back to Earth by your voice. He dropped Dominic, who was groaning in pain, into the sand by his shirt. His arm fell to his side and he turned to face you. He had blood trickling down from his nose but other than that, he seemed to be perfectly unharmed.

“Are you done?” you questioned, arms crossing over your chest with a raised brow.

JJ simply nodded in response and walked away from the boy he’d just seriously beaten. He approached you with slumped shoulders and sheepish expression, knowing you were going to scold him for getting in yet another fight. But how could he just stand there and let someone degrade you like that?

“Sorry,” he muttered softly and reached for you, slipping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you back towards the kegs. Kiara stood there, shaking her head as she had watched the altercation from afar.

“If he presses charges, you’re thouroughly fucked, you know that?” you asked him seriously. Though you brought your hand up and intertwined your fingers with his that was hanging off your shoulder.

The blonde boy nodded and took a cup of beer from Kie with his free hand. He downed it all in one go, grunting as he pulled the cup away from his lips. He gave it back for her to refill.

“I know you’re trying to defend me, J, but sometimes I wish you could just walk away,” you sighed and leaned into him, feeling a kiss against the top of your head.

“I’ll try to be better, promise,” he mumbled into your hair and when he pulled his head back you heard him laugh softly. He wiped his hand against your hair and when you looked up at him, he gave you an innocent smile. You saw the trail of blood leaving his nose was smeared and narrowed your eyes.

“You got blood in my hair, didn’t you?”

“Yup.”

[bcbdrums]

We Forget the World

A/N: Not a headcanon fic, just something I day-dreamed up one sleepy Saturday.

Happy birthday, @gofordrakgo!

Read on: FFn       AO3

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We Forget the World

Shego stepped through the large beach door of the Caribbean lair and barely heard it close behind her as she stepped over the lava rock, looking both ways in the misty twilight for her boss. Or former boss... Whatever they were now; she wasn't sure anymore.

Ever since Drakken had saved the world, they had been in limbo about what to do with themselves. As days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, Shego found herself no longer dressing in uniform, as each day was just...an extended vacation at home. It reminded her of her former days as a schoolteacher, when summer vacation consisted of endless afternoons on the sofa, watching "The Cost is Correct" re-runs and eating watermelon out of the rind.

The difference now was, occasionally a henchman in plain clothes would wander past, make awkward conversation, and then wander back to the nothing they were doing as well, as they hadn't been given any direction. And another change: Shego was seeing less and less of Drakken.

She had thought about it and finally realized that the biggest change had come when the instant celebrity he had attained through saving the world had faded almost immediately. There had initially been some buzz about potential research opportunities, grants, and other things exhorting his work not just in creating the plant formula that had saved them all, but his other work as well. But all of that had gone away within a few weeks' time, and the world seemed to have forgotten him again.

Shego looked down at the surf rolling rhythmically against the sand, the waters dark for the cloud cover that promised rain that evening. And then glancing further to her left down the beach, she noticed the distinct sign of footprints in the sand. She stepped out of her sandals and made to follow the trail, stepping into the damp sand herself and letting the sea foam wash over her feet. The breeze blew the dark teal skirts of her sundress behind her, and she closed her eyes for a moment and tilted her face into the cool of the wind, feeling it gently move her long, black tresses away from her her cheeks and shoulders.

Shego had supposed that with the promise of potential fame and fortune through legitimate means, Drakken would give up villainy. But he hadn't said anything one way or the other, and the seeming opportunities had all vanished like a vapor. Thus, the entire lair was in a state of stagnation. Paychecks were still signed and delivered to her and the henchmen, but the boss...the mad scientist they all served...was hardly ever to be seen, and never spoke of plans for even a meager bank heist, let alone world-domination.

Following his clear footprints in the sand, Shego eventually came to a discarded pair of shoes and socks, and his iconic lab coat, folded and lain upon a rock. She continued on, realizing suddenly she had no plan regarding what she would say to him. She attempted to run over some options in her mind, but everything came back to the same simple question: are they heroes or villains? And whichever they were...what was next?

Shego had discovered the truth within herself during the Lorwardian invasion, which had startled her at the time, but which she had also accepted with a surprising calm and swiftness—she would follow Drakken to the end. She hadn't explored the depths of that yet, only knowing the simple truth that she would never leave him. But with time passing she found herself curious to find clearer answers about that as well.

Rounding a large rocky outcropping, Shego finally spotted the man. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows and his pant cuffs just above his ankles. His hands were on his hips, making his shoulder blades stand out even more than they already were for the Y-back suspenders accenting his masculine figure. As Shego got closer, she noticed the faintest sweat stains beneath the suspenders at his shoulders, suggesting he'd been out there since before the clouds had hidden the setting sun. He had also loosed his ponytail, and his shorter hair blew more freely in the wind than did her long tresses.

Shego took a breath as she continued toward him, not changing her pace as he was barely moving, staring ahead at nothing as he traversed the island's perimeter. What was she going to say when she reached him? Her mind was still completely blank.

The sky was dark for the rain-saturated clouds and would have blended in with the waters at the horizon but for the churning of the waves as the storm continued to roll in. Shego suddenly felt a shiver over her bare arms and legs despite the heat that always burned within her. She took a deep breath when she found herself within a few feet of Drakken and spoke the first words that came to her mind.

"Stay out here too long, you'll get struck by lightning."

"GAH!"

Long-used to his outbursts when she unintentionally (or intentionally) startled him, she only grinned when his leap into the air was even more dramatic than his scream. When he finished flailing and stumbled around to face her, his expression was furious with annoyance, but she could also see the distraction in his eyes that indicated he had been deep in thought.

"You can brood inside where it's safe," she continued, the mirth still in her voice, but softened a bit—why, she wasn't sure.

Drakken straightened and adjusted his collar where a couple of buttons had been opened to mediate the day's earlier heat.

"Why must you always do that?"

"Entertainment. There isn't anything else going on around here lately..." she said almost automatically, but regretted the words a moment later for the way Drakken's face fell and then became guarded.

"You, ah...have any ideas for our...next move?" Drakken asked cautiously, watching her with wary, wide eyes.

Shego set her hands on her hips. "This is your ship to steer. I'm just along for the ride."

Drakken's guarded expression didn't change, but Shego was sure she saw a tinge of disappointment in his eyes. She took a breath and continued.

"Why... You lose your compass?" she half-quipped, gesturing broadly to the roiling ocean and the dark skies.

Drakken's brow twisted in worry rather than annoyance, much to her surprise, and he turned to face the vastness of the sea, staring as his lips alternately pursed and thinned as he seemed to search for words.

None came. Shego took a step nearer.

"Drakken...?"

He took a long breath and released it slowly through his teeth, and Shego had the sudden impression he was trying to withhold some great emotion. He took a smaller breath, and then...

"No one wants me," he said quietly.

A half-dozen sarcastic quips came instantly to her mind, but something told her that to say any of them would be a worse disaster in that moment than an alien abduction beam.

"What do you mean?" she finally asked.

Drakken blinked in surprise and glanced at her uncertainly before continuing.

"The research positions...the television spots... No one is calling anymore. And when I call them, sometimes they say they'll call back...sometimes they say they're 'going in another direction.' It's all the same... The world changed its mind about me."

Shego felt something familiar in his words, even though she'd never heard them before.

"But everyone I know... All of the other villains don't want anything to do with me, now that I'm...a traitor," Drakken continued.

Shego wondered then if the other villains thought the same of her; that she was a traitor to evil for helping save the world. But that could be sorted out later, for the present problem was Drakken. And she was suddenly realizing at least some of what the problem was.

"We can't choose good or evil, anymore..." she said with quiet understanding. "Either way, we lose."

Drakken looked back at her, blinking in surprise as she had put it so succinctly.

"All I wanted...all I ever wanted was some recognition. My fair share. But..."

He trailed off again and took a few steps into the surf. After a moment Shego followed.

"Watch out for jellyfish... You know they show up more at this time of year."

Drakken was staring at the dark skies again, seemingly ignoring her words.

"Maybe they've all forgotten me because it...wasn't so big a feat, after all. Maybe I've...overrated myself."

Shego bit her tongue hard to keep from responding in jest, knowing it wasn't the moment for it. It took some effort, but she buried the instinctive caustic remarks and let him continue.

"It wasn't much, really... I guess I'm... I'm not that smart."

Shego glanced down at the shallow waves washing to their ankles, realizing only then that she'd stayed at his side as he'd walked into the surf. She took a breath and grimaced as she looked up at him again.

"Of course you are. And you know it. It doesn't matter who else knows it."

Drakken looked at her then, finally seeming to notice her.

"I know it," she added, looking straight at him. "Forget the world. They're ungrateful. They don't deserve you."

Shego moved to face him, her back to the waves. She pushed her hair over her shoulder as the breeze tried to move it into her face, holding his eye contact.

"And since when have we cared what other villains think? Not as if they've taken over the world, or done anything half as impressive as you over the years."

Drakken's expression suddenly became guarded.

"You...keep saying 'we,'" he said.

Shego realized she had been, but gave it no further thought and shrugged in response.

"Yeah."

For the first time in the almost four years that she'd known him, Drakken seemed to be at a loss for words. He took a step away from her, confusion falling over his features. He began pacing in a three foot square in front of her, looking at her and seeming to want to ask a dozen or more questions, but nothing ever leaving his lips.

As Shego watched him and waited, the 'we' she had kept saying and the resolve she already had that she would never leave Drakken suddenly began to blossom into to a new, deeper understanding. A smile slowly began to curl her lips upward.

"Dr. D.," she finally said, as quiet, incoherent mutterings had started to join his pacing.

He stopped and looked at her, the question strong in his eyes. She could no longer hold back the knowing smirk, but said nothing as she waited for him to come to the same understanding on his own. It wasn't long before a frightened determination took over his features, and then with a set frown he boldly approached her. His hands found her waist and pulled her flush to him, and despite herself a small gasp left her lips as her hands automatically moved to rest on his shoulders.

The fear in his eyes grew as she knew her smirk had faltered for the anxious fluttering that had taken over her chest. But she held his gaze and watched as his fear faded to wonder, though he was still uncertain. She was curious if her own uncertainty showed too.

After too long a moment, she swallowed nervously and moved her forearms to rest on his shoulders, bringing them closer.

"Well... You gonna continue this experiment, or what?" she asked.

Drakken's shoulders were rising with the quickening of his breaths, but after a moment he licked his lips once and then leaned in. Shego didn't hesitate to wrap her arms fully around his neck the instant his lips met hers, and she felt a warmth spread through her as his arms surrounded her possessively.

Shego hadn't...really considered this. But as the warmth flooded her entire being she knew it was right. How she hadn't seen it before was perplexing, but apparently he hadn't either. When their lips finally parted and they both panted for breath, noses still brushing, she felt the uncertainty that was still in his eyes. But despite herself, she grinned as a bubble of airy laughter escaped her lips.

"I think we're going to need more evidence for this experiment, Dr. D.," she breathed, moving the fingers of one hand into his hair, her nails gently scraping his scalp.

"Shego..." was his disbelieving response. But the uncertainty fled from his eyes to be replaced with the same joy she was feeling and that must have been evident on her face.

"I don't know about you but...I'm tired of sitting around doing nothing," she said, her smile unshakeable. "Think it's time we...started something new."

Drakken's jaw worked for a moment before settling into a smile, the silence uncharacteristic for the mad scientist. Shego blushed suddenly under his intense, adoring stare, but she held his gaze.

"I...think you're right," he finally said.

"I'm always right," she answered, rising on her toes to wrap her arms further around him and bring them even closer.

Drakken suddenly glanced away, his eyes looking past her at the vastness of the sea. Shego's brow rose in question, but in an instant his eyes were back on hers and a calm had settled within them.

"I'm done wasting time. Forget the world."

Shego's smile was so broad it hurt her cheeks, and it continued through the sweet kiss that followed, and every kiss after.

[jaxsteamblog]

Legend

Click here to read the full fic on AO3

The metal under her feet made Sokka’s nervous tapping very obvious. In the mirror, Katara watched as Sokka held his chin and nodded, going over something in his head. But as his boots continued to tattoo against the floor, Katara sighed. The woman doing her hair paused, her hands hovering above Katara’s head, and looked nervously in the mirror.

“What is it, Sokka?” Katara asked.

At her question, Sokka stopped all of his movement and looked up at her. His eyes meeting hers through the mirror, his eyes were wide and innocent.

“Nothing?” He replied curiously. “I’m just thinking.”

“But why are you nervous?” Katara asked.

“I think I’m allowed to be nervous.” Sokka retorted.

“You’ve already gotten married!” Katara snapped.

Grinning, Sokka looked down and twisted his wedding band. “Yeah, but I knew that was going to be perfect so there was nothing to worry about.”

“And this is going to be fine.” Katara said with a sigh. “Why don’t you go check the flowers?”

“Why? Because I’m the florist and it’s my job?” Sokka asked.

Katara glared at his reflection and just grinned wider, standing from the couch behind her.

“Alright. I’ll come and get you in a little bit.” He said as he walked to the door. Once he was gone, Katara nodded to the hairdresser and she continued.

There were many things in life that Katara would never have chosen for herself but still ultimately enjoyed. This overly feminine dress up was not something she, or others, would assume about her, but Katara did enjoy the process. The whole group went for a spa treatment; Toph stayed longer in the mud bath than anyone else and it was almost impossible to get Zuko out of the steam room, but they all had a good time drinking tea in overly soft bathrobes.

Now the hair dressing was something that Katara relished. The oil and combs worked through her thick, wavy hair till it shone. Then it was braided, coiled, and pinned. Beads of colored glass and dyed bone that matched her dress were constellations in her hair. Two large, circular beads, holding the main loops on either side of her head, were carved with different symbols. One was the matched set of Tui and La, the other was the stylized version of the sun.

After the hair came the dress.

It was blue and cut to swirl around her body. Black fish swam around the hem and a spray of sea foam leaped up the bodice and down her arms. Katara touched the fabric lightly, fearing that it would dissolve under her fingers.

“You look beautiful, Majesty.” The attendants said. Katara smiled.

“Thank you.” She said.

Sokka came to collect her, wiping away tears as they walked down the cramped metal corridor. The sounds of the metal shifting were unnerving, but Katara focused on keeping herself calm. Coming to a door, Katara took a deep breath while Sokka pushed it open. Sunlight blinded her and she walked out holding a hand above her eyes.

“Oh my baby girl.” Hakoda said as he stepped into view, blocking the sunlight enough for Katara to see. Sokka was wearing a tux, but Hakoda had chosen to wear a traditional parka. The caribou skin was richly embroidered and his own hair had the same beads threaded in. Seeing him represent their home, Katara started to sniffle and Hakoda embraced her.

A breeze came up over the deck of the ship and blew Katara’s skirts, making her shiver. Hakoda chuckled and kissed the top of her head before putting his arm around her.

“Let’s go get you married.” He said, his voice thick with emotion. Katara nodded and they walked off to the side of the ship.

They stopped at the top of the ladder, Hakoda and Sokka standing at either side of her, and Katara shook out her hands. Just as she brought her arms up, Sokka yelled.

“Wait!” He said and darted off. Katara looked at Hakoda, puzzled, and then laughed as Sokka came sprinting back.

“Forgot your bouquet.” He huffed. The flowers were pristine - the whites, reds, and blues all distinct yet blending well together - and Sokka held them gingerly. Katara shook her head and gently brought her arms up, conducting the waves to her intended score.

The iceberg was a short distance away. She and Zuko had flattened the top yesterday, alternating between melting and reforming the ice. The audience now sat in glistening blue chairs of ice, while Zuko stood waiting. He stood out, dressed in red robes, but he wasn’t the only one. Rohan, fully dressed in orange robes, stood as the officiant. Suki, having quietly bonded with the Fire Lord over the years, wore her Kyoshi Warrior outfit as she stood at Zuko’s side.

Now, in the southern arctic sea - the only international waters that belonged to all four nations - Water joined the other elements.

The sides of Katara’s gown were woven wide, so her arms were able to move freely. Among their friends and family, and the few special political guests, Katara called up the sea to carry her across. Making a sheet of ice wide enough for the three of them to sand, Katara stood patiently with her father and brother as the water ferried them to the iceberg.

When they made it, Katara dismissed it as if she were shedding a cloak. Sokkka handed her the bouquet, kissed her cheek, and then walked to the altar. Hakoda wordlessly offered his arm and Katara took it, the two sharing a very small smile.

Speakers had been embedded in the ice, giving the sound better acoustics than if played in the open air. To a bridal march, Hakoda escorted Katara down the aisle.

“You look as pretty as Kya did on our wedding day.” Hakoda whispered as they approached the altar.

“Dad.” Katara gasped, abruptly in tears.

“Oh Kat, no tears. Look, the sun is shining and the ocean is beautiful. When your mother and I got married, it rained.” Hakoda said. They reached the altar and Katara could only nod. Hakoda then turned to Zuko and held out his hand.

As Zuko placed his hand in Hakoda’s, Katara looked at her intended.

“You don’t need my approval or blessing, but understand that I am here to support you.” Hakoda then joined Katara and Zuko’s hands. “I love you both.”

Zuko started to tear up and Katara chuckled. Hakoda kissed Katara’s forehead and went to sit down, making both Katara and Zuko start to sniffle as they stood in front of Rohan.

Rohan looked at both of them and smiled. They then held out their hands and looked at the rest of the audience.

“Today, we are all watching something amazing. For the world, we are seeing the first time that two nations have chosen love over all else. For us gathered here, we are witnessing something more important; the marriage of two of our favorite people.

“I have not known Katara for very long, but there is no way I couldn’t be in awe of her. At fifteen she bound her soul to the Ocean Spirit to protect her people in a place that was not her home. At sixteen, she sank the entire Fire Nation fleet to help swiftly end the Hundred Year War. She is the Avatar’s master, she is Queen of the Three Tribes, and most amazingly, she can routinely and on demand make the Fire Lord smile.” Rohan said and various people chuckled while Zuko ironically fought down a smile.

“Zuko I’ve known for longer. As a spiritual cousin, Zuko and I have been friends since we met. He is also the kindest person, as he has faced more ugliness in his life yet not only accepted it but moved through it with genuine compassion. And as a very wise man once told me, when one is clothed in honor, filth will not stain them.

“Zuko never asked for anything. He never asked for his position, but always did what was right. I certainly know that he never asked to be rewarded for his actions but, as you can see, he has been.” Rohan smiled at Zuko, who was more openly crying. Katara, handing back the bouquet to Sokka, took both of Zuko’s hands and squeezed them.

“Now, to the serious part. Katara, do you promise to respect Zuko, to treat him with dignity, and to honor his value as a person?” Rohan asked.

Katara smiled at Zuko. “I do.”

“Zuko, do you promise to respect Katara, to treat her with dignity, and to honor her value as a person?” Rohan continued.

Zuko smiled back at Katara. “I do.”

“May we have the rings?” Rohan looked from side to side.

Katara turned to take the band from Sokka, her hands shaking as she moved slowly back.

“The bride and groom have prepared their own vows.” Rohan announced and then leaned in toward Katara. “Go ahead.”

Taking Zuko’s left hand, Katara focused on his fingers as she spoke.

“Zuko,” She paused, took a breath, and brought her face up to look at him. “I have sworn to protect my people above all else. My place as Queen transcends any other oath or bond, save for my connection to La. But I give all of my earthly self to you. Every mortal want and faulty need, every good moment and every bad day, every morning bedhead and every nightly kiss are yours. Time will wash away our human lives, but it is in that tide where you and I will exist.”

She slid the band onto his ring finger and Zuko paused to take her ring from Suki.

“Katara, you have taught me the fallacy of opposites. After all, we can’t make tea without both fire and water.” He said and Katara laughed softly.

Zuko smiled and went on. “I promise to embrace the opposites with you. I promise to push when you pull, so that we can strengthen each other. I will be with you in every dark moment and every light. I will heal your sickness so I can rejoice in your health. I will abide with you in lean times, so that we may feast together in good ones. I know that nothing will ever stay the same, so I promise to never abandon you as we wait for the tide to come in.”

Zuko slipped the wedding band onto Katara’s ring finger and Rohan clapped their hands.

“With the promises made and the rings exchanged, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may seal your pledge with a kiss.” They said.

Katara propelled herself at Zuko, who caught her and kissed her deeply. The gathered group cheered and applauded, fadinging into the sound of waves crashing against the iceberg.

It was then that rain started to fall.

With a yelp, Katara jumped back and Zuko put his arm around her shoulder as they both looked up.

“A sunshower?” He asked.

Frigid rain splattered on her face, running into her tears even as she smiled.

“Legend says a sunshower happens at a fox wedding.” Katara said and looked over at Zuko.

He smiled and kissed her again.

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[selenium-drive]

Stay Gold Chapter 3: The Betrayal

Words: 9.3k

Series rating: Explicit

The suns beat down on the backs of the three hunters as they raced through the rugged sand dunes of Tattooine. It would be too generous of the desert planet to allow the breeze that whipped across the exposed skin of Tajana and Calican to be that of a cooling relief from the arid landscape. No, it was a continuous, sweltering gust of air that blew past them during their entire journey. It was only after a good two or three hours that Mando's raised fist in Calican's peripheral vision signaled them to stop.

"What's going on?" The young man asked impatiently. Mando gestured up ahead over a few rolling sand hills. Calican stepped off the speeder bike to get a closer look with the use of his binoculars. Tajana walked slowly to his side to get a glimpse for herself. She pulled her goggles down over her eyes, flipping through some of the settings on the side of her eye-ware to hone in on any threats ahead.

"Tusken Raiders," she noted out loud.

Calican sneered at the sight of them. "I heard the locals talking about this filth."

"Tuskens think they are the locals," Mando corrected. "Everyone else is just trespassing."

Calican straightened his posture and puffed out his chest. "Well, whatever they call themselves, they best keep their distance." Tajana couldn't resist the urge to roll her eyes at his abhorrent tough guy demeanor.

"Yeah?" Mando played along. "Why don't you tell them yourself?"

The inexperienced hunter whipped his head around to come face to face with two Tuskens. He stumbled backwards, hand clutched tight on the handle of his blaster while he simultaneously tried to gather his footing in the powdery sand.

"Relax," Mando snapped. He looked towards the natives and raised his hands to begin communicating with them in sign language. Tajana and Calican watched in silence while Mando spoke back and forth with the Raiders. When one of the Raiders outstretched their hand towards Mando, Tajana knew where conversation was going; they were demanding retribution for passage through their land.

Mando glanced over towards a naive Calican who was warily watching the silent exchange between the two parties. He stretched out his hand towards the younger man. "Hey, let me see the binocs."

Tajana couldn't help but grin under the obscurity of her scarf, knowing what he was about to do with the piece of equipment. So Mando did have a sense of humor.

The trio continued making their way across the desert, although now short Calican's binoculars. It didn't take long before Mando signaled them to stop once again, this time stepping off his bike with a sense of urgency. He approached the overlook of the sand dune they had stopped behind. Both Toro and Tajana joined Mando at the top of the ridge, all three looking down across the way at a dewback trudging around in circles. It wandered around aimlessly, letting out several groans of frustration here and there. Tajana felt a nervous lump in her throat when she realized the dewback wasn't exactly alone; it was dragging the body of its rider behind it.

"Cover me," Mando said suddenly while drawing his blaster. Tajana shot a startled look at the hunter.

"Hey, no, wait a second-"

"Stay down!" Mando commanded harshly. He sprinted out from the cover of the large sand dune, slowing his pace the closer he stepped towards the beast and the lifeless form carried behind it. Mando crouched over the corpse then flipped it over carefully. "It's another bounty hunter," he called out behind him. He began sorting through some of the belongings that had spilled out from the pockets of the deceased stranger.

"Hey I hope you're not planning on keeping all that stuff for yourself," Calican whined. "Can I at least have that blaster?"

"Something's...not right about this," Tajana mumbled. Her eyes darted from Mando, to Calican, to some of the rolling sandy hills in the upper ground levels. Wait...higher..groun-

"Get down!" Mando yelled. Calican pulled down roughly on Tajana's sleeve when the high pitched, pinging sound of a bullet striking on beskar broke through the tense atmosphere.

"Shit," she swore. Another sharp tug on her jacket yanked her back down behind the cover of a sand dune when she tried make her move to provide aid to the bounty hunter.

"Don't get yourself killed!" Calican growled. Tajana slapped his hand away in disgust. Before she could stand, Mando launched himself over the top of the ridge. He landed right besides the pair, another shot from an enemy sniper rifle making contact with one of his beskar pauldrons at the exact same moment. Tajana looked him over quickly and sighed in relief when the noticed neither of the shots had maimed the Mandalorian any.

He was panting heavily, trying to collect himself after being placed into the role of the hunted rather the hunter. When it was apparent that the tables had turned dramatically, Mando proposed they wait until nightfall to make their next move. He traveled down the dune towards where the speeders were positioned. "I'm going to rest," he told the others while taking a seat against one of the bikes. "Keep a close eye on the ridge the shots came from."

"All right, suns are down," Calican called to the rest of the group. He glanced over at the Mandalorian that was still propped up against one of the speeders, head tilted down in an apparent resting position. "Time to ride, Mando." When he received no response, he scoffed and stepped in front of the sleeping hunter.

"What the hell are you doing?" Tajana hissed quietly.

Calican waved a hand to shush her. He grinned cockily in his own amusement. "Look at you, asleep on the job, old man." He chuckled and looked towards Tajana. She didn't find him nearly as amusing as he thought himself to be, especially when he started playing gunslinger in front of the sleeping Mando.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you not to point your gun at people if you have no intention to shoot them?" She groaned. "Or even basic trigger discipline, for that manner."

"You're a bit of a killjoy, you know that?" Toro snapped. He continued pointing his gun playfully at Mando. This time, it was strictly for the purpose of annoying the female hunter.

"You done?" Mando's modulater spoke out.

"Y-yep," Calican stuttered. "I was just, you know...waking you up. Come on!"

Mando looked past the frazzled novice to see Tajana silently shaking her head to herself in disbelief that they ended up stuck with this fool.

"Get on your bike," Mando commanded them both. "Ride as fast as you can towards those rocks." He passed Tajana a flash charge once she had mounted herself firmly on Calican's speeder. "We alternate shots. It'll blind any scope temporarily. Combine that with our speed and we got a chance."

They sped towards the ridge where Calican had noticed the sniper rifle being fired from just hours ago. The two bikes traveled side by side, Mando firing the first flash round high into the air. The round erupted into a bright, firework explosion of blue and white light. Off to the side, and crimson red blaster shot whizzed past the two speeders, far off to the side from its intended target.

"Now!" Mando yelled. Tajana raised her charge in the same manner the Mandalorian did, successfully blinding Fennec upon both her and the enemy sniper firing their weapons. Before Tajana could let off the next round, Calican jerked the bike to the side in an attempt to weave in and out of Mando's path.

It was an attempt to interfere with Fennec's tracking; all it did was cause Tajana to lose her balance for a split second on the speeder, causing her to shoot the flash round straight ahead directly into the sand. Fennec seized the opportunity from the misfire; she locked onto Mando's bike, taking aim and firing one shot directly into his vehicle. It buckled underneath him, collapsing under his weight and sending him flying several feet forward.

Tajana looked back in horror once the speeder smashed into the desert floor and disintegrated from the impact. Mando managed to get to his feet, although dazed from having the wind knocked out of him. He fired off one final flash charge, allowing Calican and Tajana to make it the short remainder of the way. As soon as Mando pulled the trigger, so did Fennec. Her sniper round collided with his beskar chest plate, knocking him backwards onto the ground. Calican sprinted towards where Fennec had taken cover; Tajana rushed towards the battered Mandalorian. She fired her final round into the night sky in one more desperate attempt of a distraction. Fennec fired in her direction, the blaster round grazing past Tajana ever so slightly. She recoiled away from the heat of the shot, still hellbent on reaching her downed partner.

"Mando, we gotta go. We gotta move!" She yelled. He unsteadily brought himself to his feet, Tajana gripping onto his arms to sturdy him.

"Where's Calican?" He asked breathlessly. His question answered itself when they both heard the yells and grunts of a bounty and quarry fighting close by.

"We gotta go," Tajana repeated. "He doesn't stand much of a chance."

The pair arrived to the top of the ridge just in time to see Calican slammed down and pinned by Fennec. She grabbed his arm tightly, jerking it backwards with a loud pop. It was only after Calican's groan of agony, did Mando alert Fennec of his and Tajana's presence.

"Nice distraction," he mused. Fennec stiffened. Turning her head to the side, she took in the sight of two blasters pointed in her direction. She released the younger hunter and rose to her feet slowly with her hands up in surrender. As Calican stood up to redeem his composure, Mando tossed Fennec a pair of binders.

"Cuff yourself," he instructed. Once she did so, he turned his attention to Calican. "Why don't you go and find your blaster?"

Fennec looked Mando up and down, sarcastically whistling in amusement. "A Mandalorian. It's been a long time since I've seen one of your kind." She grinned to herself and raised one eyebrow suspiciously. "Ever been to Nevarro? I hear things didn't go so well there but...it looks like you got off easy."

Toro and Tajana curiously shifted their eyes in Mando's direction, figuring it was some kind of banter that went over their heads. "Well you don't have to worry about getting to Nevarro or anywhere else once we turn you in," Calican said boldly. "You know I really should thank you. You're my ticket into the Guild."

Fennec rolled her eyes and scoffed. "You're welcome."

There was one slight, unforseen problem. Due to the previously miscalculated firing of a flash round, they were now one speeder short. Tajana sighed in annoyance; this whole entire job was turning out to be more effort than what it was worth.

"I need you to go and find that dewback we saw," Mando addressed to Calican.

"And leave you two here?" Toro sneered while gesturing between Mando and Tajana. "With my bounty and my ride? Yeah, I don't think so."

Mando tilted his head towards Tajana in shared irritation. He turned his back towards the rest of the group and scanned the horizon with his built in HUD. He managed to pick up a sliver of a far off heat signature several ridges down from there they stood.

"I can go, Mando," Tajana offered.

"No," he cut her off. "I'll do it. Stay and watch her. Him too. Don't let her get near the bike. She's no good to us dead." Before they could reply, Mando stepped forward to begin walking towards the distant dewback.

"Tch, watch him too?" Calican mocked once Mando was out of earshot.

_________

"I'm going up top. Maybe I can see Mando from there." Tajana turned her back on Calican and Fennec, eyeing just where would it would be best to start climbing the tall, rocky surface behind them.

"Are you crazy? You can't climb that!" Calican shouted. He gestured quite dramatically to the steep, rust colored plateau she was referring to. Yeah, there were no ledges to climb easily, but that didn't seem to be a problem.

Tajana ignored him. She stared up at a promising looking rock formation near the top of the cliff. "Don't do anything stupid," she grumbled. "I'll be right back."

She pointed her arm towards where the rocks seem most sturdy. One of the gauntlets she wore released a small, shining, silver rod. It opened, revealing four sharp silver hooks that latched themselves deep into the rocky surface. Tajana gave the grapple two solid tugs before ascending upwards. The hook she implanted didn't quite reach the top; locking herself in place, she extended her other hand upwards once more and fired a second hook closer to the ledge. She released the first hook and waited until it rested once more in her gauntlet before continuing the climb. The edge of the plateau was just within reach this time. Tajana locked herself in place once more before reaching to put one hand on the top of the cliff. With all the strength she could muster, she unlocked the grabbing hook rope to finally pull herself to the top. She took a minute to catch her breath before glancing over the edge to check on the other two. They were a bit of a distance away but not too out of reach to where she couldn't monitor them closely. Once they turned their attention away from her, she pulled her goggles down over her eyes.

Altering the settings, she tried different sensors to see if she could find any life form trudging its way through the desert terrain. She sighed at the lack of feedback she received and pulled her goggles back up after several minutes. Seating herself on the uncomfortable rocky surface, she entertained herself by flicking a few pebbles off the ledge. "Stars, Mando, where are you?"

She wasn't necessarily concerned for the skilled bounty hunter. There was no doubt in her mind he was managing just fine but still, there was a growing feeling in the pit of her stomach that something wasn't quite right.

She looked on at the rising suns of Tattooine, taking in its growing warmth and beauty. It's a shame that such a place was crawling with criminals who brought with them violence and crime. Even after all she experienced living here, Tattooine was still her home planet.

The increase of volume coming from down at the base of the rocky cliff shook her from her thoughts. Her instincts were telling her to listen in on their conversation.

Rising up slowly, Tajana crept away from the edge. There were a few dips in the rocks where she could get a bit lower and closer to the now bickering Calican and Fennec. When she was above them, she stooped down as low as she could near the edge. "

...The Mandalorian. His armor alone's worth more than my bounty." Her blood ran cold and she grit her teeth.

"Dammit Fennec!" She hissed quietly to herself. The enemy sniper was trying to bargain her way to freedom. But wait, the realization dawned on Tajana that Calican wasn't in this for the money. He wanted the fame.

"I already told you I don't care about the money," Toro backfired. Tajana let out a small sigh of relief. Maybe he was smarter than he let on.

"Then think what it would do for your reputation," Fennec persuaded. "A Mandalorian shot up the Guild on Nevarro. Took some high value target and went rogue."

Tajana's heart dropped again. "No no no no no!" She whispered repeatedly to herself. This was going south, and fast. Fennec said the magic words that would put Calican under her spell, and Tajana wasn't there to stop it.

She scoured the edge of the cliff as best she could, looking for where she could grapple down quickly to stop Fennec from brainwashing the poor excuse for a bounty hunter.

"Fuck!" Tajana stood up suddenly out of desperation. Calican had gone silent and she knew he was strongly considering going after Mando. She knew he had no chance in a fight with the Mandalorian, but he still gave her a job to do. Her mistake of trusting Calican was about to ruin everything.

She grabbed the blaster from her side holster right as she heard a shot being fired. A hot searing pain exploded from her shoulder and spread throughout the rest of her body. The force from the blast knocked her back some. Sweat began forming on her forehead and she grit her teeth, fighting through the unpleasant, hot iron sensation. The sound of a second round being fired from Calican's blaster permeated the dry desert air.

Her stomach twisted into knots when she realized that second shot wasn't meant for her. Tajana stooped lower to the ground and cautiously snuck a peek at what was happening below. Calican had already begun to climb onto the speeder, leaving Fennec's lifeless form laying in the dirt. He sped off in the direction Mando had taken off to.

Getting to her feet once more, Tajana hastily pulled down her goggles with shaky hands to see if Mando was anywhere nearby. There was nothing in sight other than Toro speeding up and down the dunes towards Mos Eisley. There was nothing she could do now but pray Mando would show up. Even when he did, she was sure he would kill her and leave her body to rot with Fennec's. She did exactly what he told her not to do: ruin the hunt. Now he was left with a dead bounty and definitely no payment in return. She sighed and rubbed her temples.

"Dank Farrik."

_________

Tajana knew the climb down would be a bit more challenging than the climb up. It was agonizingly painful to do it with a shoulder that had a blaster round shot through it. She bit her lip hard to try to distract herself from the burning hot feeling wreaking havoc on all of her nerves as she  traveled downwards.

Her feet hit the ground and her knees buckled right after. Once the grappling hook retreated back into her wrist, she all but crawled towards a small nearby rock to lean up against. She was panting hard, her shoulder now bleeding from the pulling and yanking movements of the grapple. She fought back the nausea that was creeping up from her stomach and closed her eyes, trying her absolute best to regain her composure and think about her next move.

Several minutes had passed and she felt herself getting a bit weaker as time went on. She had to find a way to stop the bleeding. Tajana reached up carefully to grasp at the black fabric encircling her neck. Just when she gave it a light tug in an attempt to loosen the scarf's hold in her, she watched as the shape of a heavy set animal bobbed up and down over the mountains of sand.

The unmistakable shimmer of sunlight off of beskar further caught her attention. To say she was both relieved and terrified was an understatement. Now she knew the fear of being a Mandalorian's target, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling.

When she first came across the stoic, intimidating man that was twice her size, she felt nothing. She wasn't scared when she heard a possible bounty hunter was sweeping the hangars in Mos Entha looking for someone. She wasn't scared when she heard his deep voice radiate through his helmet's modulator, commanding her to turn and face him. She wasn't scared when she surprised him outside of the cantina, causing him to pull his own blaster on her. But now, the closer and closer he got to her and knowing she had actually wronged him this time, the feeling of fear sent her vitals into even more of a frenzy.

The dewback's clumsy trots transitioned to a much slower gait once the Mandalorian approached the bloody scene. Mando sat completely stiff once they managed to come to a halt. Without a moments hesitation, he smoothly slid himself down the side of the massive creature. He took slow steps towards Fennec, not saying anything or acknowledging Tajana in any way.

Her eyelids fluttered and she tried to straighten her posture while she sat propped up against the desert rock. She held her shoulder tight to cover up her wound and cover up her embarrassment that such a lowly, two-faced, idiot of a man wounded her this way. Mando tilted his head in her direction. He was just...staring. Neither of them said a word to each other. It was dead silent except from the soft rapid pants coming from the raven haired woman. She was too worn out and nervous to speak. Even if she could, she knew he wouldn't listen to any kind of explanation. Yet, to her surprise, he didn't shoot her dead on the spot.

Mando took a few slow strides over to her, then stooped down to her level. The sand being ground beneath his boots sounded deafening due to the stillness enveloping them. The reflection off his armor seemed more intense, almost blinding up close. She flinched when his gloved hand raised up and reached towards her, her body instinctively curling up some in a defensive manner while pulling away from him. He paused for a moment. Tajana could feel his gaze from the pitch black visor of his helmet, burning into her with the same intensity of Calican's blaster. His movements resumed at a much slowed pace. He wasn't necessarily being gentle when he pulled her hand away to inspect her wound; his grasp was still firm as he were saying "don't fight me".

Tajana involuntarily winced when the hot air made contact with the delicate, mangled tissue. Mando reached behind him to rummage through one if his small bags he had scattered on his person. She recoiled away out of uncertainty of what he was about to do, but his grip tightened ever so slightly to keep her in place. He pulled out a small can of bacta spray, shaking it before applying a generous amount to the gaping wound. Mando pulled her forward some, much to her anguish that she tried desperately to hide from him, and did the same to the other side. The cool feeling of the germicidal mist was euphoric against the angry skin of her shoulder. Thank the Maker that the pain relieving properties of the disinfectant was already beginning to kick in.

It was still quiet when he scooped her up and placed her on the dewback. Neither uttered a single word when he climbed up to sit behind her, and no one said a thing when held her in place while simultaneously grasping onto the reigns of the beast carrying them back to Mos Eisley.

_________

Nightfall was beginning to set in by the time the pair of hunters reached town. They approached the hanger where the Crest was stationed, taking in the chilling sight of Calican's empty speeder parked outside.

"This can't be good," Tajana commented. Mando dropped down off the side of the dewback then extended his hand out to Tajana to ease her down. She looked uneasily at his outstretched hand. "I'm fine," she said stubbornly while swinging her legs to the side of the creature. "The bacta kicked in a while ago."

"Good, then you can cover me if I need it," he said matter of factly. Reaching up to grab her forearm, he firmly pulled her down off the dewback. Mando released her once her feet hit the ground, leaving her to struggle to gain her balance. When he pulled out his blaster and turned to head inside Peli's hangar, he didn't catch the glare Tajana was giving the back of his helmet.

The two cautiously advanced inside the dock, listening for any sign of movement and looking for anything out of place. Before they reached the lowered ramp of the Crest, Mando reached his arm out in front of Tajana to block her from going any further.

"Took you long enough, Mando," a familiar, cocky voice echoed from the hull of the gunship. A surge of anger rose up into Tajana's chest at the thought of him setting foot on the Crest. It wasn't even her ship, but the level of disrespect the younger man was showing angered her to no end. When he emerged with a terrified Peli clutching The Child, both held at gunpoint, Tajana nearly saw red. "Looks like I'm calling the shots now, huh, partner?" He jeered. "Drop your blaster and raise 'em."

Mando did as he was told. Tajana remained still, her blaster pointed disdainfully at Calican. Toro cocked his head and smiled in her direction. "That means you too, sweetheart. How's the shoulder?"

"It appears you're a better aim than a better bounty hunter," Tajana snarled. She bent down slowly to set her blaster next to Mando's. "Even then, it was a lucky shot." Calican chuckled at her banter, then looked down at Peli.

"Cuff them," he ordered. Peli set The Child down on the ramp nervously. She grabbed the two binders that Calican held out for her. Making her way down to the ground level of the hangar, she shot an apologetic look to both Mando and Tajana.

"You're a Guild traitor, Mando," Calican chastised. "And as far as the girl goes, I don't know what I'll do with her quite yet." He glanced down at his feet to look over The Child with interest, then carefully took it in his arms to get a closer look. "I'm willing to bet that this here is the target you helped escape."

Peli raised one of the binders up to Mando's hands that were resting on the back of his helmet. Before she latched one of the cuffs to his wrist, she caught sight of a flash grenade securely held in the palm of Mando's hand.

"You're smarter than you look," she whispered closely to his ear.

Tajana remained still with her hands behind her head. She couldn't help the smile that sprang forth due to his quick thinking.

"Fennec was right," Calican continued out loud. "Bringing you in won't just make me a member of the Guild, it'll make me legendary." Toro raised his blaster in Mando's direction.

Before he could pull the trigger, Mando detonated the flash grenade. A blinding white light filled the room along with a violent bang. Mando shoved Tajana to the ground and grabbed his blaster. Calican fired a shot where Mando was standing, not noticing the Mandalorian had darted to the side. Mando took aim at the other hunter, shooting him in the side of his chest.

Calican dropped off the Crest's ramp, his body smacking the hangar floor with a loud thud. Tajana darted in his direction to find where The Child had landed as well. She peered behind the corner of a nearby crate, her golden eyes locking with the startled, black orbs of the infant.

Peli emerged from behind a wall of storage containers, eyes scouring the floor for the foundling. "Stay back," Mando warned her when she closed in on Calican.

"We gotta find it," she said worriedly. Mando turned over Calican's body, not finding The Child in his possession.

"It's here!" Tajana called out from behind the crate. She stood up from the floor, clutching The Child tightly in the crook of her arms.

"There you are!" Peli cooed while extending her arms out anxiously for the little creature. "Are you hiding from us? Look at you. It's alright. I know that was really loud for your big old ears, wasn't it?"

Tajana smiled from underneath her scarf at the caring older woman. Her eyes shifted from Peli, who was now rocking the foundling back and forth, to Mando, who picked up a rather full coin bag off of Toro.

Peli turned to face Mando, a serious and uneasy expression in her eyes. She gingerly passed his son back to him.

"Be careful with him," she said softly. Folding her arms behind her back, she rocked back and forth on her heels nervously as she looked the hunter over. "So I take it you didn't get paid..."

With his free hand, Mando poured out the contents of Calican's bag into Peli's hand. As the shining gold and silver credits filled her palms, some even dropping to the floor, her eyes and mouth widened in shock.

"That cover me?" Mando asked. Peli shook her head to snap herself back into focus.

"Y-yeah. This is gonna cover you." She broke her attention away from her payment, a slight frown crossing her lips while she looked curiously at Calican laying by the Crest.

"All right pit droids! Let's drag this outta here!" She called out. They all began frantically chattering at the same time.

"I don't know!" Peli yelled back to them. "Drag it to Beggar's Canyon!"

Tajana let another small smile grace her hidden features as she watched the cluster of droids team up to drag Calican out of the hangar.

Peli headed off in the opposite direction, mumbling happily to herself while looking over the shiny stack of credits in her hands. It seemed her newfound riches were masking the trauma of being held at gunpoint for the past few hours.

Mando began to lower the ramp of the rebuilt Razor Crest. Tajana didn't dare turn to watch him as he gathered The Child into one arm and left to make his leave. When she heard the pitch of his footsteps change when he stepped foot onto the metal ramp, she started to follow in the direction the droids went.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Tajana froze. The rumbling baritone of his voice stopped her hard in her tracks. He didn't sound angry or threatening. It was just a simple, emotionless question.

"Back to Mos Entha?" She immediately wanted to slap herself. It came out sounding more like a question rather than a confident statement. Her typical bold attitude was sucked out of her, replaced with humiliation and a bit of fear. She hadn't felt this way in so long. It made her disgusted with herself. Mando's silence looming over the two of them didn't help any. She knew if she turned around to face him, she would meet the stone cold gaze of a deadly hunter hidden behind a solid black visor. She understood Mandalorian's tended to hide their faces from the world. It was part of their culture and she respected that. She herself had her own reasons for hiding most of her face. Just as she wanted to remain unseen, she honored Mando's decision as well. But Maker, what she would give to see what emotions were etched upon his face at this moment.

"Are you refusing my offer?" Mando asked once more. His tone was a bit more forceful than the last time.

Tajana swallowed hard. She felt cornered but also relieved at the same time. It would take a simple "yes" to get out of this whole situation. She could leave and act like nothing had happened tonight. The Mandalorian, The Child, Fennec, and Calican would be a memory she would quickly push to the back of her mind and forget about. She could return to her small home in the crowded city of Mos Entha, maybe even go back to her shitty paying job as well. She would try to keep a low profile, try to stay out of trouble. As hard as she tried to come up with reasons to to stay after all, the budding desire to leave this planet was the only thing she could focus on. Although Tattooine was her home, was too much history buried underneath the sand dunes.

"No," she said with a little more strength backing up her words. "But I have to go back to Mos Entha. All my things are there."

Mando had most definitely perfected the ability of standing still and looking intimidating. The mood lightened some from The Child in his arms making soft cooing noises now and then. The two of them together made for an interesting contrast. Who would’ve thought Mando had a nurturing side? Maybe that's why he was still willing to consider taking Tajana in even after the complete fuck up that happened today.

"Well let's get a move on then," he answered. "And you better pack light." Mando finally moved, continuing his voyage to the inside of the Crest. Tajana took one more look at the exterior before following right behind him. After she settled in she would finally be able to take a closer look at the interior and map out areas that needed to be fixed up.

She watched Mando retreat to the cockpit, delicately placing The Child in the passenger seat and putting his strap on tight. The ramp door ascended into its closed position. Once the audible fastening of the locks holding it into place were heard, Mando lifted off the ground and sped towards Mos Entha.

Tajana held onto the wall tightly to keep her balance. The aircraft, even after all the years it's been around and what turmoil Mando put it through, smoothly ascended into the pitch black twilight of Tattooine. The now fully functional engines propelled them through the crisp night sky while The Child cooed happily from the front of the ship.

Tajana walked around the first floor carefully, finishing the mental map of the Crest in her head she had started prior to their hunt for Fennec. Everything looked a little worn down or old, not that old was necessarily bad. "Old" didn't mean dysfunctional. It didn't automatically mean it needed to be replaced. "Old" was her word of choice she had used to describe the Razor Crest, a word that carried some sense of stability along with it. That's why she was here, working alongside a deadly bounty hunter and his infant son; she needed a new start.

_________

"Why don't you and your foundling come with me?" Tajana asked Mando.

Silence.

"I'm sure you could use something to eat while I get everything together."

More silence.

"Look, I know you haven't had anything since I met you outside the cantina, at the very least."

Still silence.

"At least let the kid eat."

That brought the Mandalorian to his feet. He still didn't say anything when he unfastened The Child from the chair on his right side, nor did he utter a single word during the agonizingly awkward walk to where Tajana called "home".

It was a rather unremarkable little dome shaped structure. Mando had to almost crouch down to duck below the doorframe, something The Child found slightly amusing.

The inside was simple; a soot riddled fireplace in the quaint little living room, a small dining area next to an equally small kitchenette, and a few doors leading to other rooms in the house.

Tajana dusted her shoes off before rummaging  through a closet near the front door. She pulled out some duffle bags and began talking over her shoulder at the Mandalorian standing awkwardly in the center of her living quarters.

"I know it's uh, it's not much but make yourself at home. The kid can wander around fine, there shouldn't be anything he can really get into."

Mando robotically set The Child down, eyeing him carefully while he trudged around the room in his potato sack outfit. The bounty hunter glanced up at Tajana and saw her retreat into the kitchenette. She started sorting through her cabinets, setting some of her food supplies either on the counter next to her or tossing it in one of the bags.

Mando thought about telling her she didn't need to give up all her food for them, but the uncomfortable stabbing feeling of hunger he had been suppressing told him to keep his mouth shut. They had next to no food on the ship and he knew it.

Tajana peeked around the corner to glare at the stoic man. "Sit down will you? You're making me nervous."

Mando complied willingly. He turned his attention back to the foundling who was running back and forth across the spacious living room, all while babbling a bunch of nonsense to no one in particular. All the time the kid spent being coddled by Peli or asleep on the ship resulted in lot of pent up energy he was now letting loose. At least he would probably knock out when they finally got back to the Crest.

Tajana zipped up the duffle bag and tossed it down next to the front door. "It's not much, but now you'll have more to feed the kid other than ration bars."

Mando's hand twitched. The inside of his helmet felt a bit warmer. If he didn't know better, he would say he was a little embarrassed. She probably noticed the lack of supplies due to the lack of funds in Mando's credits bag. He had given all of the credits stolen off Calican's body to Peli. Normally it wouldn't pain him to do so, but now this meant his first priority was finding another job as soon as they left Tattooine.

Tajana returned to the kitchen and the sound of pans clamoring around recaptured the Mandalorian's attention. He failed to notice the mischievous green creature that was waddling towards the direction of the food supplies bag. The sound of a knife on a cutting board masked the sound of a zipper being pulled back. The smell of meat being cooked on a stove top only further distracted the Mandalorian. He clutched at his stomach in an attempt to get the all too familiar gnawing cold feeling of hunger to dissipate.

A tug on his leg stole his attention back from the uncomfortable feeling and when he looked down, The Child gazed up at him innocently, a handful of dried fruit crammed into its mouth.

"Hey! Hey!" Mando corrected with a firm tone. "No! That's not yours. You have to share." He picked The Child up but before he could pull the remaining dehydrated fruit bits from its little green fingers, The Child extended his hand towards the Mandalorian's helmet.

"No, not share right now." He set the little foundling down next to the wide open duffle bag. With a point of his gloved finger, he brought the little one's attention to the source of the problem. "This is ours. You have to share it with all of us."

The Child babbled a bunch of nonsense in return. Mando sighed heavily, eyes still dead set on the little troublemaker. The Child looked off to the side behind Mando and raised its arms excitedly.

"You're awfully talkative all of a sudden," Tajana said playfully. She reached down to pick up the foundling and cradled him in one arm. "Both of you," she continued.

Mando's eyes protectively followed her every move out habit from someone new handling his kid. Tajana picked up on his shift in demeanor and smiled in a reassuring manner that was meant for him, almost forgetting he couldn't see it. The softness in her expression in turn transfixed itself into her eyes that peered into the black abyss of his visor; her typical firey stare was now that of warm, melted honey.

His rigid form relaxed some when she handed him a steaming bowl of stew. Thank the Maker his stomach didn't growl right then and there.

"Thank you," he said, staring into the cream colored liquid. His eyes danced around the plump chunks of meat and diced vegetables that bathed themselves in the viscous broth. "But I can't-"

"I know." Tajana said simply. She eyed the windows to make sure all the curtains were obscuring the view from the outside, all while Mando begrudgingly tore his gaze from the meal he couldn't eat. Grabbing another bowl in her free hand, she set off towards one of the other rooms of the house.

"Knock when you're finished, please." She didn't give him a chance to argue. Shutting the door softly behind her and The Child, Mando heard the muted excited giggle emitted from the hungry little foundling. He looked upon his own serving and set it down on the dining table. He glanced back at the door the woman and child were situated behind, fighting with himself whether or not to indulge in something as simple as a bowl of stew.

She does not trust easily, but you can place your trust in her.

With a faint hiss, the latches at the base of his helmet released. Mando pulled his helmet off shakily. He turned his head to the side, eyes fixated on the door of the other room. His helmet hit the table with an intentionally loud thump. The hunter hoped that the woman one room over heard it and knew what the noise was. The door still remained shut.

Mando cautiously raised a spoonful to his mouth, eyes still glued to the entryway. He ignored the slight stinging sensation of the hot liquid coating his tongue. The burn that traveled down his throat meant nothing in comparison to the joy of finally eating a decent meal. He shoveled in spoonful after spoonful. The pieces of meat were a forgotten luxury he hadn't experienced in years while the vegetables provided his worn out body with the nutrients it rarely received.

He gasped for air when he set the empty bowl down minutes later. He caught glimpse of a drinking glass on the opposite side of the table that was filled with fresh water. Mando didn't even notice it before or know if it was even meant for him. He gulped it down hastily, his fast pace no longer being because he was worried about having his face looked upon but rather desperation for food and water.

Underneath all that shiny armor, he's still just a man.

Mando himself almost always forgot that. He knew everyone around him completely had. People only saw him as a handful of things: something to kill, someone to do their bidding for them, or something to be feared. He pushed himself to unimaginable limits every day, always depriving himself of basic needs and rest. It only made sense that when he had the extremely rare opportunity to sit and enjoy something as stupidly simple as a cup of soup or a glass of water, that he would bask in that blissful moment for as long as possible. In those several, bittersweet short minutes, he had never felt more human.

Mando sighed. In this certain circumstance, it was a mannerism that stemmed from content rather than aggravation. Now satisfied, he reached over to grab his heavy beskar helmet and placed it over his head once more. When the locks on the sides snapped back into place, he rose from the table and landed three sturdy knocks against the door.

There was a bit of movement stirring on the other end. Tajana poked her head out through the opening, a her hand placed over her eyes as a precaution.

"You can look," was all that Mando let out. He was back in his full suit of armor, once again just a Mandalorian that had yet another job to do.

Mando took a few steps to let Tajana work her way past him, her arm still holding The Child tight. It cooed both happily and sleepily, its large brown eyes half closed from the food coma that was beginning to set in.

She passed Thee Child to Mando and set down one more duffle bag on the floor next to the one that contained their food.

"Thank you again," Mando called out to her. She was busy bustling around the kitchen, cleaning off the cooking ware she used for the meal, along with the two bowls that they ate from.

Wait. Two bowls.

"Hold on a second," he started. "You didn't get any-"

"Hey, Mando," Tajana interrupted. She shook her hands free from the soapy water, not looking at him but rather the baggage on the floor. "Do you mind grabbing one of those for me? I still have one more thing I have to get before we go."

Though he heard her request, he tried in vain to vocalize his previous concern. "But you didn't-"

"You were in a rush to leave Tattooine, yes?" She asked. Mando didn't fail to pick up on the not so subtle sharpness of her question. Her eyes met his for a few seconds, the previous warm glow of her golden orbs intensifying into the unmistakable smoldering glare he had seen several times already. When she moved around him to grab a blaster rifle from the closet, Mando shut his mouth immediately. He reached down to pick up the heaviest of the luggage, then placed the sleeping child into a brown cloth bag at his side. With her weaponry strapped against her back and the remaining duffle bag in her hand, the trio set off towards the direction of the Razor Crest in silence. The only noises they heard were the late night conversations of passer-byers that ceased once they caught sight of the Mandalorian, and The Child's soft snores that accompanied them the rest of the way.

_________

By the time they arrived at the Crest and Mando had mapped the navigation for their next destination, the suns of Tattooine were just about to make their appearance. He sat in the pilot's seat for another moment, taking in the warm glow of the two suns rising together. The Child was fast asleep in the sealed off area where Mando's mattress lay. Nearby, Tajana was trying her hardest to not make too much noise as she added her rifle to the Mandalorian's hidden firearms collection. She shut the compartment door with an unpreventable clang, thanking the Maker that the infant was a relatively heavy sleeper. Her footsteps were fairly quiet, almost unnoticeable until they grew louder the closer she got to the entrance of the cockpit. The door was already pushed slightly ajar, signaling to her that Mando deemed it safe to come in. When her strides fell completely still, Mando turned his head ever so slightly in her direction.

"Need something?" His deep voice was monotonous as usual.

"Just a few questions about this whole living situation thing," Tajana began.

Mando looked forward and continued. "Such as?"

Tajana suppressed the desire to roll her eyes at the clueless man. Maybe he was feigning ignorance in an attempt to get under her skin the same way she does him. Maker, did she really have to spell it out for him?

"Such as, where do I sleep or where does my stuff go? What exactly do you want me to take care of other than the baby and the ship? Are there any rules? Anything I should never ever do?" She counted out each question on a finger in a demonstrative fashion, even though she knew Mando wasn't watching her.

"The safety of The Child is our main priority," Mando began. "You will watch and care for him when I'm not around. I'll be going on hunts off and on to cover the funds for your employment and other things. I'll let you know before I leave. Some hunts may require me being away for a few days or more," he paused for a second. "Some...I might need your help on."

Tajana stared hard at the back of his helmet. Was he just blatently fucking with her at this point? Her mouth replied faster than her mind could fully come to terms with what he just admitted. "You want to repeat that?"

"You heard me just fine," Mando said stiffly.

Tajana was completely blindsided. "Even after what happened with Calican?"

Mando was quiet. The longer he put off answering her, the more she wanted to throttle the back of his chair. It was soon becoming evident to her that this was his most annoying mannerism.

"I'm certain you're aware of my wanted status with the Guild." His voice lowered to a more hushed volume. The shift in his attitude was unnerving to say the least. "You know why Calican turned on us. I know you do. You were there when Fennec told him about the high price of my head."

Tajana couldn't help but interrupt him. "Where are you going with this?"

"I don't know how he got the jump on you," Mando answered quickly. "What I do know is that even after learning exactly the same bit of information he did, you passed up every chance to come after me and the kid. His betrayal was unavoidable."

It was her turn to keep him waiting for a response. "What makes you think I still won't turn on you?"

The question was an uncomfortable one but nonetheless, it was a very real concern.  Throughout their entire conversation thus far, Mando sat still as could be in his worn leather seat. The flashing shades of blue and white hyperspace swirled around on the flawless beskar metal that adorned him. The mesmerizing fluidity of space was a stark contrast to the constricting tension brewing inside of the ship. Instead of answering his new pilot's question, Mando once again deflected the topic of conversation.

"If you climb down the ladder, there's a bit of barren space off to the side across from the ramp opening. We can find a way to make it more comfortable so you can sleep there, or you can use the cot The Child is sleeping on currently, whichever you please. Next to the carbon freezing chamber, there's room for you to store your belongings." Mando gave her no time to respond, not that she even knew what to say anymore. Their whole discussion was riddled with twists and turns, so Tajana did her best to just listen instead of add to it. "I'm sure you've seen the refresher. It's yours to use as you see fit. Now, as far as rules go: Don't pilot the ship unless I tell you to, or unless I'm not around and there's an emergency. I'll do my best to keep in contact with you the days I'm not here. Of course you know I take my meals alone. I don't remove my helmet in front of anyone, and don't ever ask me to. I'm sure you understand the desire to remain unseen."

Tajana's flinched. Desire? There was no desire for her to live this way. Sure the difference between their circumstances was that his was cultural and her's was...well, it wasn't his business actually, that's what. A surge of anger blossomed deep in her chest. She didn't even know who she was angry at exactly. Mando brought it up, so she supposed that his baseless assumption of her was the cause.

He thought she would’ve given him some sort of agreeable witty remark one he was finished. Out of curiosity, he tilted his head to peer back over the back of his chair. There was no mistaking the solar flare of emotions raging through what little expression of hers he was able to see. "Good to know," she said a little too calmly for his liking. "Thank you, Mando."

Tajana slipped through the door and slid it halfway shut before he managed to say another word. Rummaging through her personal belongings, she pulled out a few clean pieces of clothing and descended down to where the refresher was. It wasn't spacious, not in the slightest. Not that she was intentionally trying to imagine Mando in here, but the thought of the much larger man crammed into the tiny space and removing all of his armor for a shower was rather amusing.

She turned on the water to let it warm up and began removing the dust covered layers of clothing off one by one. Although the bacta had helped immensely, peeling her blood crusted shirt away from the still tender wound site was far from comfortable. The side of her arm from where Mando had unintentionally rammed into her back in Mos Eisley, was painted a dark purplish blue color.

Tajana wasn't the most sturdy or physically strong person in the galaxy by any means. What she lacked in brute strength she made up for with her sharp mind, stamina, and dexterity. Her small stature made her an unassuming and perceivably "easy" target, something she frequently used to her advantage. Her enemies had a tendency to rush her half cocked, a mindset that always proved to to be a deadly mistake.

Once a thin curtain of steam was rising from the shower stream, Tajana let her thick, raven tresses fall down past her waist. Her hair was dry and rough from the unrelenting desert sun. A layer of sand was caked on within some of her strands. Water wasn't the easiest thing to come by on bone dry planets such as Tattooine. She did her best to keep up with her hygiene, but finally being able to be in a full on shower such as this, was a gift from the Maker itself.

Beads of warm water rolled off her golden caramel skin, taking with it the stress and grime from the past two days. Not knowing how much warm water could be used in one sitting, Tajana did her best to make it a thorough yet not overly drawn-out shower. She was sure Mando would want to take one as well after being under the blistering suns all day.

Her stomach twisted into a tiny knot when she thought about the way she cut him off earlier. He had done more than hire her as a babysitting pilot; he opened up his whole home to her. A bit of guilt began to set in when she dressed herself with new undergarments, a charcoal grey tunic, and loose black pants. She grabbed a clean black scarf, securely wrapping it around her neck to just below her eyes. Tajana knocked before she exited the washroom, keeping in mind the highly unlikely but still possible chance that Mando might be lurking about the ship helmet-less. After waiting a few more seconds, she slid out of the bathroom and climbed up the ladder to put her used clothes near where her other belongings were.

On her way back down to the lower level, she noticed the sliding door leading to the cockpit was securely shut, not cracked open like she had left it. She decided it best to give the Mandalorian his space for a while. It was something he wouldn't be getting much more of after today. It would take both of them a while to get used to living with another person. Sure Mando was living with the kid now but still, that's different from sharing living space with another adult human being. In the mean time, she was going to look around for something to use as a makeshift bed.

Her search came to a dead stop when she noticed the compartment that housed the sleeping child was wide open. Tajana rushed over to see if the foundling was missing from where Mando had laid him down when they boarded the Crest. Something was situated on the cot, and it wasn't the kid.

A bit of warmth pooled into her cheeks when she realized what it was. Resting on top of a poorly folded and tattered sheet, sat a small bowl of dehydrated fruit.

[puckrmn]

Day Buzz || Padison

tagging: @puckrmn & @maddiemccarthy

location: Sandbar

time frame: June 13th, Afternoon

about: Day drinking, corn hole, and bets

warnings: nada

Day drinking was not a normal activity for Madison. Though normal on a Saturday anymore tended to revolved around her son. But now that Gabe could spend longer periods of time without her, she was enjoying the idea that sometimes normal could revolve around more adult activities. She took a sip from her glass, a pleasant buzz settling in, and turned from the beach views to look at Puck. "You know, I am a grown woman, can do whatever I want - babysitter permitting - and somehow day drinking still feels rebellious," she told him, laughing quietly. "Is that your goal? Bring out the bad girl in me?"

It was the perfect day for day drinking. Blue skies speckled with the occasional cloud plus the nice breeze coming in from the ocean would put anyone in a good mood. His mood was even more elevated as he kept his eyes on the girl seated across from him, watching her watch the beach. He took a sip of his beer and smirked as she faced him. “That’s exactly my goal. Gotta let your naughty flag fly, babe,” he joked. Reaching across the table, Puck took her hand in his. “And think about how much more your bad girl flag can fly once Gabe can sleepover at Mason’s or Ben’s? I promise you I’m gonna take you out and let you get as white girl wasted as you want.” Leaning across the table, he pecked her softly before sitting back down.

"God, I haven't been white girl wasted in too long," she insisted, "because even when I went out, I still had to come home and be mom." She wasn't complaining, not really, but there was something nice about regaining her freedom, even if it was only in small pieces at a time. Madison licked her lips, smiling as Puck settled across from her again. Her hand turned in his, playing with his fingers momentarily before lacing her fingers with them. "Is that all we'll do with my naughty flag? My inner bad girl isn't going to be committing petty crimes or anything?" she teased.

Puck’s eyes dropped to watch her play with his fingers. It still blew his mind that they could actually be like this in public instead of just flirty texts and comments. “You know I’m always down to do some illegal shit.” Smirking, he glanced up at her and nodded his head towards the beach. “Sex in public type of illegal stuff? Or like…stealing a street sign type of illegal stuff?” Grabbing a passing by waiter, he ordered them another round of drinks and some food for them to munch on. “Let me know when you’re ready to get your ass whooped in pool or any of the other games they got here. I throw a mean bean bag.”

She grit her teeth in a panicked smile and shook her head at his suggested crimes. “I’m pretty sure I’d have to be white girl wasted for either of those to happen,” Madison pointed out, “or I’d be too nervous and undoubtedly get us in trouble.” She took a moment to finish off her drink, setting the emptied glass off to the side before leaning in with her arms on the table. “You pretty confident in that, huh?” she challenged, meeting his eye a stare that was meant to be intimidating. “I bet I could take you.” She stood from her seat, not letting go of Puck’s hand and pulled him along with her to go outside and play. Madison stood back from the playing area, letting another patron finish their round, and looked up at him. “You confident enough to make a wager on it?”

“But getting in trouble is fun,” he replied with a smirk. Puck leaned in close as she leaned over the table. “Bring it on, beautiful,” he muttered, letting his gaze drop to her lips. Puck followed her lead and squeezed her hand as they made their way out to the patio. Letting go of her hand, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body against his. “Oh I’m totally down to make a bet. What are you thinking? Money? Something…naughty?” Leaning in, he pressed a light kiss to her neck. Puck pulled away as he felt the waiter approach with their fresh drinks. He clinked his glass against hers before taking a sip. “Here’s to me whooping your ass,” he joked as he watched the other customers finish up their round.

Madison shook her head as she thanked the server for her drink. "Well, I really don't think I need to win a bet to get you to do something naughty," she pointed out, "and I don't want your money." She stepped away from him to pick up the bags as the others left the area, setting most to the side but keeping one in hand and tossing it lightly as she turned back to face him. "It's the opposite really. When I win, I get to pay the tab," she said simply. She stepped back into his space and dropped the bag into Puck's empty hand, staring up at him with a smirk. "Every rule has a loophole, right? But if you want your prize to be naughty, by all means."

Puck took a sip of his fresh beer as he watched her organize the bag. His eyebrow raised at her wager suggestion. “That’s not cool. You know how bummed ma would be if she found out I not only let a pretty girl pay for herself BUT she paid for my shit too? I’d get my ass whooped. But fine. Guess I’ll have to bring my A game now.” Shrugging, he turned the bean bag over in his hand as he tried to think about what his prize would be. A smirk came across his lips when he thought of the perfect thing. “Remember when you were on the boat with all the girls? And you told me I could do something to you? That’s what I want.” Puck placed his beer on a nearby ledge and picked up his colored bags. “Playing basic rules? Alternating throws and bags cancel each other out?” He stepped aside and let her get in position. “Ladies first.”

"How about I promise not to tell her?" she offered with a chuckle. His habit for paying was admirable, and his mom's influence behind it just made it cute. It took a moment to know exactly what Puck was referencing from their texts months ago, but as the realization dawned, Madison's teeth sunk into her bottom lip. Not breaking eye contact, she nodded her agreement to the terms and rules. "You're on.” She moved past Puck and took a moment to exaggeratedly stretch and shake out her arms. Tossing the first bag, she watched it sit at the edge for a split second before it fell in the hole. “You know it’s tempting to just lose on purpose,” she told him, glancing his direction. “Maybe you’ll win even if you lose.”

Puck leaned against the railing behind him as he watched her line up her first shot. He cursed to himself as he watched her sink it like a champ. This wasn’t gonna be as easy as he thought. Puck smirked back at her words and placed a firm kiss to her lips. “Being here with you makes me a winner obviously,” he joked as he pulled away from her. Stepping up, he carefully aimed and tossed his first bag groaning as he watched it skid off the board completely. “That was a fluke,” he muttered as he retreated back to his beer. The game was close and it all led up to Madison’s last shot. If she sank it, she’d immediately win. Puck obviously wasn’t going to let her have the easy route to the win. Stepping up behind her, he leaned over to place his lips near her ear. “I can’t wait to get your legs wrapped around my head. Stick my tongue inside of you. Taste you while you pull my hair…screaming my name,” he whispered softly.

Gracious winner was not the way people typically described Madison. She played even the friendliest game competitively, and her trash talk and gloating skills rarely were tucked away. She was ready to claim her victory with one last perfect toss. Feeling Puck crowd into her space, she chuckled then quieted to hum as she listened to his words. She should have known he would play dirty. "We could make that happen," Madison told him, tipping her head back against his shoulder to look up at him briefly, "but hold on just a second." Stepping away from him, she unceremoniously tossed the last bag, sinking it straight into the hole and securing her win. She drained the last of her drink and then moved back into his space. "I just have a tab to settle, then we can do whatever you want," she said with a grin then leaned up to press a kiss to his lips.

Puck’s gaze watched the perfect trajectory of the bean bag, his hopes for a blow job sinking into the hole along with it. “Motherfucker,” he groaned loudly. Puck wasn’t good at losing to say the least. Finishing his beer, he placed the empty glass on the railing as Madison approached him once more. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he replied grumpily as he let her kiss him. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her closer to his body. “I just wanna hang out with you.” Puck checked his watched quickly. “How long you got before you have to be home for Gabe? You wanna take a quick walk along the beach or is that too cheesy? We could always just go back to your place and make out until Fleetwood comes home.” Puck leaned in and pressed a playful kiss on her cheek as he squeezed her close. “Or I could just make out with you here and make all these people jealous as fuck.”

“You just need some more practice. You forget I spent four years living the Greek party life.” Madison caught the attention of their server, passing off her card to settle the tab and order a couple bottles of water to take with them. “I’ve got a couple hours still. Cheesy isn’t bad, sweat out some of the alcohol,” she joked. She probably would have been content to stand there wrapped up in him indefinitely, but they’d have all night for that. Her hands slipped down his arms, following them behind her back until she could take hold of his hands. “C’mon, we’ll walk, but I might still steal a kiss or two,” she told Puck, pulling his hands from around her and kissing him quickly to make the point before stepping away. She dropped one hand to lead him off the patio and into the sun warmed sand.

“Being in a frat is definitely the one thing I feel like I missed out on by not going to college.” Puck pouted the entire time that she closed out their tab. He reluctantly let her untangle herself from him and pull him towards the sand. Spinning her under his arm, he let go of her hand and draped his arm over her shoulder as they strolled next to the water. It was nice being around Madison. She accepted him for who he was and never pushed him to change like other girls in his past. She just made him feel comfortable whenever she was near. Puck pressed a kiss to the top of her head and smiled softly. “You know. For as much time we spend together and as often as I talk to you...I still feel like I don’t know you all that well. Tell me something I definitely don’t know about you.”

"Douchey frat bros aren't all they're made out to be," she pointed out. "Parties are good, but that's about all they have going for them." She fell instep with him easily, purposefully bumping into his side as he pulled her in. As she listened to his request, Madison hummed in thought of what was actually interesting enough to tell. “I’m the older twin, by six entire minutes. I hate onions, but love onion rings. There’s a song that pops into my head for just about anything you or anyone else says. Umm,” she paused, shrugged her shoulders and glanced up at him. “I really want to do wedding flowers. I thought Kenna’s wedding was gonna be my in, get people to stop going over to Virginia Beach. The small stuff is great, don’t get me wrong. But I want the big, grandiose centerpieces and an archway of blooms and the bouquets and flower crowns for the flower girl. The whole nine yards.”

His hand squeezed her shoulder tightly as he listened to her tell her about herself. “I hate onions too. Except onion rings and those blooming onions from Outback,” he agreed with a nod. His smile softened as she spoke about what she really wanted to do. “You’d kill it. I’ve seen your work. I don’t really care much about flowers but I can still look at your flowers and know they’re good looking flowers ya know? What about Matt and Blaine’s wedding? I bet they could use your flowers.” Puck paused their stroll to lean down and kiss her. As they resumed their stroll, he tried to think of something to share with her. Opening up wasn’t really his strong suit, but he wanted to be able to have her know him. “I like music. I can play the guitar and the piano. I don’t get a lot of chances to actually play but I dig it. Busking was one of the many sketchy ways I made money my first year in LA.”

She bent her arm up to play with his fingers where they rested on her shoulder. "Yeah, maybe. I mean, I'm sure they'll need flowers. It's a harder sell when yo don't have the experience, you know? Kenna and I are so close it was easy to convince her. But I could at least pitch it," Madison agreed. She smiled against his kiss, chasing his lips as he pulled away. It was easy to get lost in him, to settle in a them that wasn’t defined in any real way. Listening to him talk about his hidden talent surprised her, but there was truth in what he’d said: there was plenty they didn’t know about each other. “So what you’re saying is, I need to volunteer you for the next open mic night at Bank?” she teased, “you can’t just tell me that and not expect me to want to hear you play.”  Her lips pursed in something of a pout at his mention of LA, the inevitable end to whatever this was in her mind. “Busking hardly sounds that sketchy. Pretty sure there’s at least one person who’s landed a record contract that way. What actual sketchy money making ventures did you have?” she asked.

“Yeah but they’re reasonable dudes. Just show them what you can do and I bet they’ll immediately book you,” he replied. Puck chuckled at her reaction and shook his head. “Fuck no. I’m not doing open mic night. I’ll play for you one on one someday though.” He shrugged his shoulders slightly as she asked for more details from his time in LA. Things he hadn’t really told anyone. “I dunno. I had a pool cleaning business in Chicago that was pretty successful only because of bored housewives. I brought that same concept out to LA. There are a lot more bored housewives out there. Except sometimes I didn’t even clean their pool and I’d get paid for other...services,” he said vaguely. “Sold drugs for a hot minute. But that wasn’t that successful because medical marijuana was hella easy to get if you knew the right doctors. I just did whatever I had to do to scrape together enough cash to live. Then I got the apprenticeship at the shop and things got a bit easier. I mean I was still crashing on couches but I could afford actual food.” Stopping them in their tracks, he turned to face her. “And now I can afford to buy pretty girls food whenever I want...even when they keep trying to pay,” he joked before leaning in to kiss her once more.

“Oh come on! I’ll sing with you so you don’t have to do it alone,” she protested playfully. “You could be the Lindsey to my Stevie? Complete all of your Fleetwood dreams.” She listened quietly as he talked about his work in LA, not sure exactly what she was expecting him to to tell her, but sure it hadn’t been all of that. It really was an entirely different world out there. “Got you where you needed to be though, right? Older, wiser, settled on the other side of the country. A true rags to riches, huh?” Madison mused, squinting up at him through the sun. Her arms slipped around Puck’s waist, holding herself close to him as she kissed him back. Her fingers drummed slowly up his spine, pulling away just enough to catch his eye with a grin on her face. “Now if only you didn’t suck at cornhole and lose your rights to pay.”

“I didn’t even know you could sing. Learn something new everyday. I’m definitely not at Lindsey Buckingham level though. Plus didn’t they hate each other for a while? No bueno.” Puck smirked at her words. “Like that Drake song. Started from the bottom now we’re slightly above the bottom,” he joked before getting lost in the kiss, not caring who could see them. He pretended to be offended by her comment about his cornhole skills. “Rude. How do you know I didn’t just go easy on you and let you win? Hmm?” He paused with his eyebrow raised at her. “Just kidding. You completely whooped my ass.” Chuckling, he took her hand in his and turned to walk back towards the bar. As much as he would love to stay out on the beach with her all day, he knew she had bigger responsibilities to get to. “You’re gonna call me once he’s gone right? I think you and I need some alone time together for sure.”

“Oh yeah. I had childhood dreams of being a big, big star,” she confirmed, chuckling at herself and her old ambitions. Madison was sure she could have stayed out there with him indefinitely. Sun-warmed and wrapped up in him with the last bit of a buzz in her veins. It was definitely a day date to revisit in the future. “Because I knew what you were playing for,” she reminded him with a smirk. She kissed him again briefly, nipping his lip before letting him lead the way back. Her arm swung exaggeratedly with his as she nodded. “Yeah, definitely. If I didn’t think there’d be potential for starting world war three in my apartment, I’d say just stay. But Gabe doesn’t need to be around that,” she noted. “Do you wanna know when he’s gone or wait until after bedtime? Alone time is kind of a later ordeal.”

“Maybe someone will be nice enough and make my prize happen even though I lost,” he suggested with a smirk as they approached the bar. He led her to the front of the bar towards the bar’s parking lot. “I guess wait until after bedtime. Definitely gonna need your full attention for alone time.” Chuckling, Puck pulled out his phone to order an Uber for Madison. Once he was done, he pulled her towards him to kiss her once more. “I had fun today,” he muttered against her lips. Puck moved to deepen the kiss, groaning when they were interrupted by the honking of a car. “I think your Uber is here.” Reluctantly pulling away from her, he moved to open the back door for Madison to climb in. Puck leaned into the car and kissed her quickly. “Get her home safe,” he said to the driver as he pulled away. “Later, babe.”

[alj4890]

Romance/Lust Prompt

(Thomas x Amanda) with the prompt: Is it weird that was a total turn on? Requested by @krsnlove

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) Choices: Red Carpet Diaries Fan Fiction taken from my story line of And Then I Met You. PB owns Thomas, no matter how many diamonds I spend on him.

A/N A little bit of NSFW...sorry temptation set in with this prompt and I was too weak to resist.

@alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @fullbeaumonty @cocomaxley @darley1101 @hopefulmoonobject   @krsnlove @hopelessromantic1352 @annekebbphotography @gibbles82  @cora-nova @bella-ca @sunflowergirl05 @pixieferry @desiree-0816

Masterlist

Action

A gentle breeze blew through the palm trees on a crystal clear night while a half moon shined down on the waves lapping the shore. The weather could not have been more perfect for filming. Thomas stood before the actors that were in this paticular scene and explained what he wanted from them.

He returned to his chair and waited for everyone to be ready. He called out action and watched the scene unfold. He caught every mark met and each one missed. What he didn't notice was his wife sitting a few chairs over, closely watching him work.

Amanda had been on the sets of his movies many times before, but always in a work capacity. There were usually script rewrites or discussions of whether or not something could be changed to make a scene better. She rarely had time to observe Thomas as a director.

This time it wasn't her screenplay being filmed and she was simply along as the director's wife. Having nothing to do, she had worried she might get bored. She could not have been more wrong. Thomas held her undivided attention.

His focus was something she had admired from the moment she met him. He had such an intense passion for filmmaking. Was it weird what she was starting to feel observing him in this environment? She let her eyes drift over him, feeling the need to fan herself with the thoughts she was starting to have.

She thought he might be the sexiest man she had ever met and she had the privilege of knowing quite a few sex symbols. But there was something about tonight. Watching the man work was causing those same feelings she got when his passionate focus was centered on her.

She observed every little movement he made. He unbuttoned the sleeves of his white dress shirt and rolled them up. His muscles caused the shirt to pull taut across his back and arms, teasing her senses.

He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the first few buttons as take after take was filmed. It made her long to finish taking his shirt off. His firm lips sipped from a bottle of water. She felt a flash of heat as she thought of those lips on her body. She watched him move from his seat to once again explain what he needed from the lead actors and then bend down to look through one of the cameras while reviewing what type of shots he wanted. She admired his glutes as his pants molded over them.

He never looked her way. She found that somewhat strange. He always spoke to her about a script or some other thing he wanted her opinion on. She readjusted in her seat and crossed her legs. Her short skirt slipped past her knees with each movement, stopping midway up her thigh. The black spaghetti strap dress was perfect for the warm, humid environment they were using for the location shots.

The longer she sat there, the more times she alternated legs to cross. At one point she pulled the clip out that held her hair up and shook the heavy mass. She ran her fingers through it and pushed it over her shoulder. During a cut, she got up to stretch and went to get something to drink.

One of the supporting actors smiled and started a conversation over craft services with her and one of the grips who was grazing through the offerings. Her low laugh at a joke floated on a breeze. The three of them turned when Thomas spoke.

"Everyone go get some rest. We will meet tomorrow afternoon. Review scenes 12, 5, and 23," Thomas gathered his notes and came striding up, pausing to take Amanda's hand. She stumbled in the sand to keep up and said a goodnight to the actor and grip along with everyone they passed. The couple walked in companionable silence down the beach toward the resort they were staying in.

Amanda looked at Thomas from the corner of her eye. In the moonlight and shadows, he appeared to have an edge of tantalizing danger about him. The black stubble he could never seem to be completely without was already darkening his chin and jaw. His skin was tan from the many hours spent on the beach setting up for the evening's shoot..

His hand was warm around hers but she wanted to feel more than that. She loosened his grip and noticed a frown form until she put her arm around his waist. His arm curved around her, pulling her even more snug against his side.

He glanced down at her and continued to walk at a quick steady pace. They returned to the resort and went into their suite. Amanda leaned against the door and chewed on her lower lip. Thomas was putting his notes away in a folder and set it on an end table. He turned and walked over to her.

"I'm going to take a shower. Why don't you order us something from room service." He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. His hand had cupped her cheek and his thumb caressed the skin near her mouth. He looked down again at the cleavage displayed from her dress and stepped closer to her.

Amanda grabbed his belt loops and pulled him completely against her body. His eyebrows raised in surprise. She looked up at him while her hands moved down his back, pressing him even closer. He braced his hands against the door.

"What are you thinking?" He asked, his eyes closing with pleasure at each touch.

She unbuttoned his shirt and pressed a lingering kiss to his neck. "Something I have thought all night." Her lips trailed down his chest.

"And that is?" His voice was raspy as she unbuckled his belt.

"How just the sight of you turns me on." She let out a moan when his lips crashed down on hers. Their tongues tangled and stroked as feverish hands explored each other through their clothes.

He lifted her up and kept her pressed against the door. His forehead touched hers when she wrapped her legs around him. "Speaking of sights turning one on..." His lips brushed against hers "It was all I could do to focus on work tonight." His hands moved up and down her smooth legs. "Every time you crossed your legs, I could picture them wrapped around me."

She let out a soft moan while kissing him. “So you did notice me.” 

His hands moved up her body and tangled in her hair. "I notice everything about you. When you let your hair down, I--" He groaned when she moved against him, the sound of his deep voice laced with passion exciting her, and gently bit his neck. “Amanda."

Their lips met in a heated exchange. She broke away and let her head fall back against the door. Her eyes locked on his and her lips parted. "Thomas, I want you."

His grip on her tightened with her whispered confession. When she kissed his ear and breathlessly said how much she needed him, he lost control. His mouth touched every inch of skin that he could reach while holding her against the door. He nearly growled when he explained that she had no idea what she did to him.

Their clothes were either thrown across the room or roughly pushed out of the way as their bodies met again and again. Thomas covered her mouth with his when she cried out and held him tight to her.

They leaned against the door, legs shaking, as they tried to catch their breaths. She pulled his head down for a tender kiss. "I love your passion." She said softly with a smile.

He kissed her again. "You better." His lips traveled down her neck while his fingers skimmed over her sensitive skin. "Nothing comes close to sparking it like you."

[nayrusfountain]

Under the Moonless Sky

It was late. The distant melody of the Clock Town bells had long since echoed the coming of night, urging the Terminian denizens to retire into their welcoming homes. And yet to Mikau and many other night going Zoras, it signifies the time roam in the covers of the night. Their time to swim...To go to work. To play and chase the neon waves...

Their time to properly worship their Divine Mother.

Being nocturnal, the fin bladed Zora stalked the nightly beaches, his clawed flippers sinking into the cushiony, soft sand. The chirps of crickets rang cheerfully on the palm trees, and the faint song of a lone wolf sang mournfully into the night. Fireflies flash their gentle glow around him, hoping to attract a potential mate with their light display. And sea turtles emerged from the sea to lay their eggs. Mikau loves the night. While humans have a natural fear of what lurks in its darkness, Mikau and many other nocturnal Zoras see it as a time of mystical beauty and harmony.

The starry heavens twiddle and danced far above him, their star dust sprinkling into the illuminating ocean. The constellations of Zoran spirits and Gods litter over the sea and beyond, watching over their Zoran children of Termina. The ocean waves gently crash onto the white, sandy shoreline of Great Bay, the frothy foam sizzling as it retreated back into the ocean. Blue lights bloom from the surfing waves, with Zoras crashing through its watery barrier and spreading the neon glow soaring into the air. They launched at the glittering blues with their mouths open and teeth gleaming, and upon closer inspection, are revealed to be firefly squids. Mikau had already eaten some before arriving to the beach, and merely glance at his hungry fellows with mild interest. He had however stared worryingly at the cosmic Terminian skies.

Normally, there would be two Terminian Moons visible in the heavens, each one belonging to their respective Gods. The Hylian Moon of the mythical Fierce Deity watch proudly from his divine sky throne, watching over his Hylian subjects.

Nayru's Moon, however, is nowhere in sight.

Concern, Mikau try not to think much of it, but the absence of his people's Lunar Deity is cause for worry. Such a thing never befell the Zoras before, and he honestly doesn't know how to cope with the bizarre situation. Nayru meant everything to his race, from myths to the very culture his society thrives on, she is what kept the Zoras together as a family. Even the concept of courting with mates are reliant on her guidance; their holy Mother acting as a priest that permanently merge the lover’s souls into one entity. 

He continued on his way, stroking the weary turtles in reassurance as they drag themselves onto shore.The reptile closed their eyes in comfort at the Zora’s soothing touch. Occasionally he’ll help a few individual that appears to be struggling to make way for a decent nest in the crowding beach, carry them to a more private spot and guarding them from annoying predators who dare messes with the life giving balance being bestow upon by his favorite animal. 

Suddenly, a soothing tone echo in the night, drowning out the sounds of crickets and dulling the waves. Mikau perked and listen, toning in to the song coming from up ahead the beach. It was gentle, calm, and familiar. He followed the song, recognizing it all to well. Someone's singing the song of the Zoran Goddess, perhaps trying to bring out her Moon from hiding. Mikau approach the Beavers' Waterfall, and set his sights on an elegant Hylian woman singing by the shoreline, strumming her harp as she pour her heart out to ocean. Her voice captivated the Zoran Hero, and he watch with awe as sang Nayru's Song. The Zora approach, and watch her preform in the night. She wore a regal blue dress, a golden necklace with a moon pendant and the Zora's Sapphire on her mid section. Her blue hair ripple and rose like the waves, and her voice is purer than any mortal could ever have. Mikau was simply entrance by her beauty. Normally he would've run back into the ocean at the sight of a stranger, but this woman felt different. He felt like he truly know her for a long time.

She finished her song, and look over to the curious Zora with eyes bluer then the ocean itself. They were the color of sapphires, just like his own. Her body gave off a heavenly warm glow, and her eyes were kind and wise. Mikau's eyes grew wide, suddenly gaining the realization of who this mysterious person might be.

"Are you...our Divine Mother?"

The mysterious woman nodded in the Zora's direction, her sapphire orbs resembling the lunar pearls rumored to litter the sacred Moon's surface. Her ears suddenly flutter, and upon closer inspection, Mikau saw that they were tiny blue fins flapping like small wings. Her blue nails are unusually sharp to be that of a regular Hylian, almost resembling Zoran claws. And when she smiled, the snowy Zora saw small canines among her otherwise normal human teeth.

The woman approach the shark like Zora calmly. Mikau remain where he stands, caught in a trancelike state as the blue haired being approached him. In any other situation, Mikau would've lengthen his fins as a warning to potential dangers, swaying his arms slowly and glaring intently as his colorful patches glowed bright red. His Zoran Hero breed are naturally weary of strangers, especially humans. His past experiences with people from land had its ups and downs, and usually he'll sulk away at the sight of unfamiliar faces.

But this person...It's almost like she has the very essence of the Goddess of Wisdom herself.

"Your time in this world will be numbered with great challenges, my child," the woman suddenly said, her motherly smile turning into that of a sad one. Her voice was angelic yet eerie, otherworldly even. It reverberated and echo across the Bay and beyond the sea, suddenly alerting the sensitive Terminian Zoras of a supernatural presence. They darted off, spooked by the ghostly voice as they dive into the safety of the inky depths. The firefly squids they were preying on relax and let the waves carry them, relief overriding their systems.

Mikau shiver at her divine, godly voice, his fins twitching and tail stiff. He had however regain his composure and blink in confusion at her words.

"W-what do you mean...?"

The female stare up to the starry skies, her eyes twinkling. The Zoran Hero follow her gaze, noting she had directed her sights on the Fierce Deity's Moon. The Hylian God of War seems to be staring down at him, his lunar body seemingly dimmer than he originally thought. Mikau never paid much attention to the particular God beforehand, knowing his guardianship is for the Hylians rather than the Zoras. As such, while still respected by the Zoras, they generally don't worship him.

But this time, the God is directing his gaze to him. Mikau could feel the Deity's cold stare piercing into his soul, and a chill spiked up his spine.

The woman continue staring at the sky, her eyes swirling into shimmering whirlpools. Mikau watch her eyes closely and carefully, and through their watery, glassy gaze, a brief vision of the heavens shone through. Starry images of deceased Zoras swam with grace in her vision, and the Godly constellations of Nayru's divine children seems to react with urgency, standing in between the souls and the mortal world protectively.

"The Goddess of Time came to me in a vision," the female finally reply. "A great yet impossible task will befall you and two others across the land."

"Impossible? But I fought many foes before, milady," Mikau stated with a flexing of his muscles. "I have protected the ocean from many threats with my very life, and served you well. What could possibly be such a challenge that it'll prove 'impossible?'"

"I cannot reveal much, but I will tell you this. One day a young Hylian child from an alternate world of our own will be bestowed upon Termina. When the time is right, your fates will intertwine, and that alone will mean the difference between life or death. Your strengths will become one. Your souls will connect. This will be your ultimate test, one that'll decide the fate of the world."

"The world huh?" Mikau murmur to himself. He thought the situation over, letting the information seep into his conscience. "I don't understand. How would a Hylian child help me in my task?"

"You'll understand when the time comes," the woman said, her body beginning to dissolve into sprinkling star dust. Mikau grew alert, reaching out for the mystical being. But one look into her eyes stopped him in his tracks.

The blues expanded entirely, turning the once Hylian-like eyes into Zoran eyes. Two great, purple fins grew from her ears and reposition themselves on the top of her head, like a pair of sails. Her liquid hair solidified and turn into a long, finned tail. Her dress evaporated and in turn an elegant Zoran body were revealed. Fins draped from her sides and ankles, and two large, purple bladed pectoral fins span out of a running line of jagged blades and tower and draped on both arms. Her fists were also armed with smaller dagger like fins as well as her shoulders.

The more she dissolves, the more her Zoran features revealed itself. Mikau watch in astonishment as the divine being disappears in a starry mist. The winds of Farore picked up the twinkling particles and cast it away to the heavens. A moment of cloudiness ensures in an particular area in the sky, and when they departed, Nayru's Moon shone proudly over the seas once again. Mikau watch as the Goddess of Wisdom accompany the Fierce Deity, their Moons brimming with confidence.

Despite the uncertainty of the situation in the unknown future, Mikau couldn't help but smile at Lunar Deities, their confidence rubbing off of him. The gentle breeze blew at his fins from the sea, and the Zora decided to retire for the night, making his way back to Zora Hall where his band is currently staying for the month. He doesn't know what to expect exactly...

But when the time of his great task comes, he'll be ready to once again Termina well.

And hopefully, so will the little Hylian.

Just a little story I did a long time ago for a Amino challenge. Hope you like it. 

[runawayjay]

Of Words and Swordplay

Chapter 5 Summary: Jon contemplates what type of queen Daenerys would be for the North while she plans to leave and battle the Lannister host. A final lesson before her flight, they cross swords and words once more.

***Takes place during 7x04, after the dragonglass cave but before the battle at Blackwater Rush.***

Read chapters 1-5/? on a03!

Standing on the shore of Dragonstone, Jon listened to waves move upon the sand and dragons move upon the wind. He stood in silence beside Ser Davos, watching Daenerys Targaryen fist her hands at her sides as the breeze lifted her silver hair, waiting. He’d given her his advice. He’d given it because she’d asked—because whatever happened and didn’t happen in the dragonglass cave, Jon saw Daenerys Targaryen in wonder, as a person instead of a queen.

She’d been staring at the drawings, as awestruck as he had been when he first found them. Together, standing in a timeless place, their titles hadn’t mattered. Their allegiances hadn’t mattered. Their pasts hadn’t mattered. Who they were to the people who put their faith in them had not mattered. He was Jon and she was Dany, and for a moment they’d been two people, equals in the face of time and mortality and each other.

That moment had gone. Still, some of it lingered. Jon felt it because she’d asked for counsel, and he’d given it. Jon hoped she knew what to do with it, but all he could do was wait.

Her silence was prolonged and heavier than the waves crashing along rocks. Daenerys was an impossible woman, as impossible as the things she’d made happen. They were both fighting wars, yet it was Jon who faced with the impossible: an undead enemy of an unknown number, and a Dragon Queen.

How many people must die for your pride? She’d asked. The question echoed in his head—echoed on his tongue as much as it did in his ears. Long ago, he’d asked Mance Rayder the same question. Mance had died for his choice—for the freedom to make his own mistakes. Jon wished he’d known that one day he’d have his own words spoken back to him by an impossible Dragon Queen with silver hair and fire beneath her skin. If he had, maybe he would have known to ask Mance more questions than he had.

You know nothing, Jon Snow.

I don’t, Jon thought for the hundredth time. He didn’t even know how to bend the knee—if he could or should. He left his home to make the North allies, not to make the North subjects.

If he could not make an ally of Daenerys Targaryen, then he would have to make her his queen. If he did not make her his queen, then the North would be forced to bend to a different king—the Night King.

With or without Daenerys Targaryen, Jon feared he would make subjects of the North in any case. He could not defeat the Night King on his own, and he would not be given a choice when the time came to join his army.

“Lord Tyrion,” Daenerys finally said, breaking her silence and staring towards her dragons, “have my Dothraki army and their horses boarded onto our remaining ships as soon as possible. I will expect you aboard, as well.”

“Where is it we are sailing to, Your Grace?” Tyrion asked. The wind blew through his blond hair, and Jon thought he’d never seen the man so pale.

Daenerys stared at him, the same stare Jon knew she used to make men bend their knee to her command. She’d tried it on him before. “Blackwater Rush,” she said, cold and queenly enough to tame the fire and the fight behind her eyes. “We leave for your brother, Lord Tyrion, and the army that ended my ally’s House.”

Tyrion dropped his eyes to the sand, concealing his heavy breath as best he could. When he looked back up at his queen, there were no more objections. Jon suspected Lannister knew he’d run out of time for objections. Daenerys was an impossible woman. That extended to her stubbornness and willpower, as well.

“At once, Your Grace,” Tyrion said. If he didn’t sound fully convinced or eager, Daenerys didn’t say anything else to him. Instead, she spoke of her shoulder.

“Jon Snow,” she said, walking across the wet sand towards her keep, “we will have one more lesson, I think, before practice becomes reality.”

Jon shared a cautious glance with Ser Davos, but the old smuggler said nothing. Jon shared a sympathetic look with Tyrion, but the queen’s Hand said nothing. Jon decided perhaps that was best, and followed Daenerys towards their courtyard—to think over impossible futures while he dueled an impossible woman.

Whenever Jon trained the queen, he couldn’t help but remember his little sister, small and skinny and full of fight like the wild wolf girl she had been. He missed Arya with an ache that never dulled, wondering where she was if she wasn’t dead. When he remembered his instruction of the queen was by her own request, Jon wondered what Arya would make of Daenerys Targaryen.

They were both small and skinny, and Daenerys was beautiful as she was dangerous. Both were eager to learn swordplay, and the queen had three full grown dragons and an army. Jon imagined Arya would like Daenerys, he just wasn’t certain if she’d like her as her queen. He imagined Sansa would like Daenerys, as well. But, he was more certain she’d be less inclined to accept her as her queen than Arya would be. Sansa had had enough of queens in King’s Landing, and Jon wasn’t certain himself if his would-be captor was still the better alternative to chancing the Great War on their own.

Impossible as Daenerys Targaryen was, impossible as all the things she’d done were, Jon had yet to see whatever it was that would convince him to kneel. He owed his sisters and the North for the trust they’d given him. He needed certainty that Daenerys was different from the same shit they’d always known. He hadn’t seen it yet. He didn’t know it yet.

You know nothing, Jon Snow.

Ygritte had been more right than she knew. Jon wondered what she would make of the Dragon Queen, if she would mock her demands for bent knees or admire her ferocity. Perhaps both. Ygritte and Daenerys shared their similarities, too, but the Dragon Queen was not kissed by fire. The Dragon Queen was fire—fire made flesh.

If Jon felt warmer being near her, he could only imagine that was why.

This lesson he’d given her the offensive. He’d only had two lessons beforehand to instruct her on defense, but if she was leaving now she needed some experience attacking instead of being attacked. She handled herself well enough, and the fire made flesh burned with anger this time.

She used the dragonfire under her skin and fought with it, letting it burn through her and into the sword the way Jon had done more times than he could ever remember. He was crossing blades—wooden blades, but blades nonetheless—with a woman who knew herself, her rage. Jon tried his best to not make impulsive decisions when he was angry. He didn’t always succeed; sometimes, the decision that needed making required impulse to make it in the first place. When that happened, Jon went with what he knew was right, not with what he wanted.

When he had time to think, hitting something or someone with a sword for a good few hours always helped clear his head.

It seemed Daenerys Targaryen had an inclination towards the same habit, one new for her but old for him, just like swordplay itself. Jon could feel it every time their wooden swords collided with a sharp crack that echoed in their courtyard. She was incensed. She didn’t speak, but she listened to what few instructions he gave her. She didn’t question, but she pressed him harder than they’d ever gone before. Even as she pressed him closer and closer to the edge of the courtyard, Jon wasn’t fighting back with everything he had. The Dragon Queen was a swift learner, no matter how he’d teased her before. But even swift learners needed time, and Daenerys wasn’t ready to fight for real. She wasn’t ready to fight him. She wasn’t ready to fight the Lannisters.

At least, not with a sword.

Jon imagined she could fight just fine atop her dragons. She’d been ready to do that for longer than he’d known her. As she swung towards his left side, he parried with a step and struck at her exposed ribs. He didn’t strike her hard, but she gritted her teeth and pressed on all the same. Pieces of her hair had loosed from her braid and stuck to her flushed face with sweat, and Jon watched her eyes as she tried for another attack towards his leg.

Perhaps it was his distracted thoughts. Perhaps it was his holding back. Whatever the reason, Jon had underestimated the Dragon Queen and what she knew. As he lifted the clumsy wooden sword to parry one of her strikes, Daenerys kicked him low. He stumbled back against the wall of the courtyard. The queen slipped her sword through his guard to rest it against his throat.

They stood still, breathing heavy as they both realized that, for once, their swordplay had ended by something other than their words. Jon looked from her sword to her face. Her cheeks were flushed, and pieces of fine silver hair also stuck to her proud neck. Her eyes were burning as he’d seen them before, as unrelenting as Valyrian steel.

Finally, Jon said, “I didn’t teach how to do that.”

“No,” Daenerys said. “You didn’t.”

She dropped her sword and stepped back, but let her eyes linger in a way that kept Jon leaning against the wall. When she exhaled, he thought he saw her anger transform into a steady determination. Jon felt something left in the space between them, prickling his skin like when he sat too close to a fire. When he tried to speak and end the silence of their stare, he was interrupted by Missandei, the queen’s advisor.

“Your Grace,” the woman said, stopping a distance away with her shoulders straight as always, “the ships are prepared. The Dothraki wait for your command.”

Daenerys finally looked away from Jon, favoring her advisor with a grateful nod. “Good. Tell them to set sail. I will find them shortly. Dragons always were quicker than ships.”

Missandei nodded and left to carry the queen’s words. Daenerys headed towards the sword wrack to hang her wooden weapon. Jon had to rouse himself from the wall, but the apprehension in his stomach did that just as well. He felt like he was about to walk into a fight himself, the nerves beyond that of what he felt before the queen’s competition. The feeling pulled at him higher this time, in his chest just as much as his stomach.

“Your Grace,” Jon said, following her—following the pull in his heart. “You asked for my advice before. I’d advise you now against this—”

“I’ve made my decision, Jon Snow. I will not burn Cersei in her castles or destroy my people in their cities, but I will burn my enemies. You had no objections when it was Euron Greyjoy I wanted to burn.”

“I have no love for the Lannisters, Your Grace. I only object to leaving today. Your armor isn’t ready yet. Drogon’s saddle isn’t ready yet—”

“My armor has taken too long, and I don’t need a saddle. I’ve needed neither before, and I don’t need them now,” Daenerys said, letting her sword fall into its place as forcefully as she spoke. She turned to him, one gloved hand still gripping the hilt. She spoke softer, almost as softly as she had in the cave. The fresh memory pulled Jon’s heart more, as impossible as she was. “Tyrion says it was your idea for a saddle in the first place.”

“Aye, it was. With one—”

“I could be strapped to Drogon and have an even less likely possibility of falling into the hands of my enemies? That’s what Tyrion said. He also told me he once designed a similar saddle for a brother of yours so he could ride his horse. Bran, I believe.”

Jon let his eyes linger on her hand before he pulled them to her face. He was standing as close as he dared—close enough to stay warm, but not enough to burn. He found himself thinking back to the same reasons that’d spurred him to fight that competition. Westeros needed Daenerys Targaryen alive, to stop the threat of the Night King and to free them from the likes of Cersei Lannister. In the dragonglass cave, staring at the drawings of the children and the First Men, Jon had almost thought she’d agree to fight the first with him, together.

They’d been equals, subject to no one but themselves and faced with an enemy wanting to rule their corpses.

 How many people must die for your pride?

The words still echoed in his head, along with the memory of her pale hair illuminated by the glow of the torch. Jon understood what Mance Rayder meant. It wasn’t pride that held him back. It was his love for the North—for the people in the North. They deserved better. They deserved freedom, just like Mance knew his people did.

Jon couldn’t bend his knee to just any southern ruler, he knew. If he were to choose, he thought perhaps the likes of Daenerys Targeryen would be the best he’d see in his lifetime. He meant what he said, refusing to pledge himself to her because he didn’t know her. He still wasn’t ready to bend. He hadn’t seen enough of her. He didn’t know enough of her.

But, he was beginning to. He needed her alive to continue doing so—to continue deciding whether or not she would be a good enough queen to and for the North—and she was hellbent on freeing Westeros from Cersei Lannister instead of the Night King.

Finally, Jon said, “I don’t know anything about a saddle, Your Grace, but if Tyrion said he did that for Bran, I believe him.”

Daenerys held her lips closed, her grip still firm on the sword. Seconds spanned with their breaths, and something inside prompted Jon to confess quietly, “The last time I saw Bran, he was asleep. Broken from a fall when the Lannisters pushed him from the window of the Broken Tower at Winterfell…He hadn’t been awake in weeks. It was just before I left for the Wall. Now, Bran’s dead, and I’ll never see him again.”

Daenerys dropped her hand from the sword, stepping closer like she had in the dragonglass cave. Jon held his breath, fearful of moving. He couldn’t let it go until she said gently, “I’m not your brother, Jon Snow.”

“I’d think not.”

“It’s not a horse I ride, but a dragon,” she continued. “I only agreed to the saddle, the armor, the lessons in hopes to ease my advisors’ worries. I’m thankful for your teachings, but I don’t need them. I will bring my enemies fire and blood, Jon Snow. I am a dragon—the last dragon.”

Which is why you’re so important, Jon thought, though he didn’t say it. Daenerys walked away from him with the last word, and Jon hoped her confidence was not as foolish as he was.

[readbookywooks]

‘Look, all right, but, look, they’re talking about shutting the Library!’

The silence grew louder. The sleeping cat had cocked an ear.

‘What is happening is all wrong!’ the bursar confided, and clapped his hand over his mouth at the enormity of what he had said.

‘Oook?’

It was the faintest of noises, like the eructation of cockroaches.

Suddenly emboldened, Spelter pressed his lips closer to the crack.

‘Have you got the, um, Patrician in there?’

‘Oook.’

‘What about the little doggie?’

‘Oook.’

‘Oh. Good.’

Spelter lay full length in the comfort of the night, and drummed his fingers on the chilly floor.

‘You wouldn’t care to, um, let me in too?’ he ventured.

‘Oook!’

Spelter made a face in the gloom.

‘Well, would you, um, let me come in for a few minutes? We need to discuss something urgently, man to man.’

‘Eeek.’

‘I meant ape.’

‘Oook.’

‘Look, won’t you come out, then?’

‘Oook.’

Spelter sighed. ‘This show of loyalty is all very well, but you’ll starve in there.’

‘Oook oook.’

‘What other way in?’

‘Oook.’

‘Oh, have it your way,’ Spelter sighed. But, somehow, he felt better for the conversation. Everyone else in the University seemed to be living in a dream, whereas the Librarian wanted nothing more in the whole world than soft fruit, a regular supply of index cards and the opportunity, every month or so, to hop over the wall of the Patrician’s private menagerie.[13] It was strangely reassuring.

‘So you’re all right for bananas and so forth?’ he inquired, after another pause.

‘Oook.’

‘Don’t let anyone in, will you? Um. I think that’s frightfully important.’

‘Oook.’

‘Good.’ Spelter stood up and dusted off his knees. Then he put his mouth to the keyhole and added, ‘Don’t trust anyone.’

‘Oook.’

It was not completely dark in the Library, because the serried rows of magical books gave off a faint octarine glow, caused by thaumaturgical leakage into a strong occult field. It was just bright enough to illuminate the pile of shelves wedged against the door.

The former Patrician had been carefully decanted into a jar on the Librarian’s desk. The Librarian himself sat under it, wrapped in his blanket and holding Wuffles on his lap.

Occasionally he would eat a banana.

Spelter, meanwhile, limped back along the echoing passages of the University, heading for the security of his bedroom. It was because his ears were nervously straining the tiniest of sounds out of the air that he heard, right on the cusp of audibility, the sobbing.

It wasn’t a normal noise up here. In the carpeted corridors of the senior wizards’ quarters there were a number of sounds you might hear late at night, such as snoring, the gentle clinking of glasses, tuneless singing and, once in a while, the zip and sizzle of a spell gone wrong. But the sound of someone quietly crying was such a novelty that Spelter found himself edging down the passage that led to the Archchancellor’s suite.

The door was ajar. Telling himself that he really shouldn’t, tensing himself for a hurried dash, Spelter peered inside.

Rincewind stared.

‘What is it?’ he whispered.

‘I think it’s a temple of some sort,’ said Conina.

Rincewind stood and gazed upwards, the crowds of AI Khali bouncing off and around him in a kind of human Brownian motion. A temple, he thought. Well, it was big, and it was impressive, and the architect had used every trick in the book to make it look even bigger and even more impressive than it was, and to impress upon everyone looking at it that they, on the other hand, were very small and ordinary and didn’t have as many domes. It was the kind of place that looked exactly as you were always going to remember it.

But Rincewind felt he knew holy architecture when he saw it, and the frescoes on the big and, of course, impressive walls above him didn’t look at all religious. For one thing, the participants were enjoying themselves. Almost certainly, they were enjoying themselves. Yes, they must be. It would be pretty astonishing if they weren’t.

‘They’re not dancing, are they?’ he said, in a desperate attempt not to believe the evidence of his own eyes. ‘Or maybe it’s some sort of acrobatics?’

Conina squinted upwards in the hard, white sunlight.

‘I shouldn’t think so,’ she said, thoughtfully.

Rincewind remembered himself. ‘I don’t think a young woman like you should be looking at this sort of thing,’ he said sternly.

Conina gave him a smile. ‘I think wizards are expressly forbidden to,’ she said sweetly. ‘It’s supposed to turn you blind.’

Rincewind turned his face upwards again, prepared to risk maybe one eye. This sort of thing is only to be expected, he told himself. They don’t know any better. Foreign countries are, well, foreign countries. They do things differently there.

Although some things, he decided, were done in very much the same way, only with rather more inventiveness and, by the look of it, far more often.

‘The temple frescoes of Al Khali are famous far and wide,’ said Conina, as they walked through crowds of children who kept trying to sell Rincewind things and introduce him to nice relatives.

‘Well, I can see they would be,’ Rincewind agreed. ‘Look, push off, will you? No, I don’t want to buy whatever it is. No, I don’t want to meet her. Or him, either. Or it, you nasty little boy. Get off, will you?’

The last scream was to the group of children riding sedately on the Luggage, which was plodding along patiently behind Rincewind and making no attempt to shake them off. Perhaps it was sickening for something, he thought, and brightened up a bit.

‘How many people are there on this continent, do you think?’ he said.

‘I don’t know,’ said Conina, without turning round. ‘Millions, I expect?’

‘If I were wise, I wouldn’t be here,’ said Rincewind, with feeling.

They had been in Al Khali, gateway to the whole mysterious continent of Klatch, for several hours. He was beginning to suffer.

A decent city should have a bit of fog about it, he considered, and people should live indoors, not spend all their time out on the streets. There shouldn’t be all this sand and heat. As for the wind …

Ankh-Morpork had its famous smell, so full of personality that it could reduce a strong man to tears. But Al Khali had its wind, blowing from the vastness of the deserts and continents nearer the rim. It was a gentle breeze, but it didn’t stop and eventually it had the same effect on visitors that a cheesegrater achieves on a tomato. After a while it seemed to have worn away your skin and was rasping directly across the nerves.

To Conina’s sensitive nostrils it carried aromatic messages from the heart of the continent, compounded of the chill of deserts, the stink of lions, the compost of jungles and the flatulence of wildebeest.

Rincewind, of course, couldn’t smell any of this. Adaptation is a wonderful thing, and most Morporkians would be hard put to smell a burning feather mattress at five feet.

‘Where to next?’ he said. ‘Somewhere out of the wind?’

‘My father spent some time in Khali when he was hunting for the Lost City of Ee,’ said Conina. ‘And I seem to remember he spoke very highly of the soak. It’s a kind of bazaar.’

‘I suppose we just go and look for the second-hand hat stalls,’ said Rincewind. ‘Because the whole idea is totally-’

‘What I was hoping was that maybe we could be attacked. That seems the most sensible idea. My father said that very few strangers who entered the soak ever came out again. Some very murderous types hang out there, he said.’

Rincewind gave this due consideration.

‘Just run that by me again, will you?’ he said. ‘After you said we should be attacked I seemed to hear a ranging in my ears.’

‘Well, we want to meet the criminal element, don’t we?’

‘Not exactly want,’ said Rincewind. ‘That wasn’t the phrase I would have chosen.’

‘How would you put it, then?’

‘Er. I think the phrase “not want” sums it up pretty well.’

‘But you agreed that we should get the hat!’

‘But not die in the process,’ said Rincewind, wretchedly. ‘That won’t do anyone any good. Not me, anyway.’

‘My father always said that death is but a sleep,’ said Conina.

‘Yes, the hat told me that,’ said Rincewind, as they turned down a narrow, crowded street between white adobe walls. ‘But the way I see it, it’s a lot harder to get up in the morning.’

‘Look,’ said Conina, ‘there’s not much risk. You’re with me.’

‘Yes, and you’re looking forward to it, aren’t you,’ said Rincewind accusingly, as Conina piloted them along a shady alley, with their retinue of pubescent entrepreneurs at their heels. ‘It’s the old herrydeterry at work.’

‘Just shut up and try to look like a victim, will you?’

‘I can do that all right,’ said Rincewind, beating off a particularly stubborn member of the junior Chamber of Commerce, ‘I’ve had a lot of practice. For the last time, I don’t want to buy anyone, you wretched child!’

He looked gloomily at the walls around them. At least there weren’t any of those disturbing pictures here, but the hot breeze still blew the dust around him and he was sick and tired of looking at sand. What he wanted was a couple of cool beers, a cold bath and a change of clothing; it probably wouldn’t make him feel better, but it would at least make feeling awful more enjoyable. Not that there was any beer here, probably. It was a funny thing, but in chilly cities like Ankh-Morpork the big drink was beer, which cooled you down, but in places like this, where the whole sky was an oven with the door left open, people drank tiny little sticky drinks which set fire to the back of your throat. And the architecture was all wrong. And they had statues in their temples that, well, just weren’t suitable. This wasn’t the right kind of place for wizards. Of course, they had some local grown alternative, enchanters or some such, but not what you’d call decent magic …

Conina strolled ahead of him, humming to herself.

You rather like her, don’t you? I can tell, said a voice in his head.

Oh blast, thought Rincewind, you’re not my conscience again, are you?

Your libido. It’s a bit stuffy in here, isn’t it? You haven’t had it done up since the last time I was around.

Look, go away, will you? I’m a wizard! Wizards are ruled by their heads, not by their hearts!

And I’m getting votes from your glands, and they’re telling me that as far as your body is concerned your brain is in a minority of one.

Yes? But it’s got the casting vote, then.

Hah! That’s what you think. Your heart has got nothing to do with this, by the way, it’s merely a muscular organ which powers the circulation of the blood. But look at it like this - you quite like her, don’t you?

[mylincolncole-blog]

Fragment 3 - Recruited

Chapter 3

Jayson awoke groggy.

A breeze rolled over his face.

Did I leave the window open?

His second thought was: did I leave the light on? 

And then: Is that sand…?

He was disoriented, and it took him a few seconds to realize this wasn’t the same place he went to sleep.  The sun blasted down above him, near the middle of the sky.  It was hot, hotter than Eldun's sun at this time of year, and he doubted he was even on the same planet.  

But then where am I? And how did I get here?

He sat up to rub his eyes. Unaware, he hit himself hard in the face with a bulky glove. He was in his armor with the helmet and rifle by his side, but no other supplies. A headache throbbed behind his eyes, but it wasn’t from alcohol.  Too concentrated of a migraine, probably the aftereffect of a sedative and anesthetic to knock him out and keep him out.  

He’d experienced similar effects before, during training at the academy, so he knew how to deal with the disorientation. But that brought a new concern.  Was it only one day later? If he was drugged, it could have been any amount of time since he’d first gone to sleep.  The range of where he could be in the galaxy opened up dramatically.

Jayson stood and scanned the environment.  His mind was starting to organize itself, and the theory gaining credibility was that he’d been marooned here. But why, and by whom? Was this punishment?  He picked up his helmet, wiped the dust off the bottom, and latched it on.  It was the same helmet, but felt different against his skin.  

He realized the difference: someone had put a lot of work into repairing and cleaning it.  That gave him hope. If someone left him here to die, they wouldn’t clean his gear, would they? 

He heard the interface of his helmet spark to life.  The default nasally voice spoke up, naming a planet he’d never heard of, Mali, and the date.  Four days had passed since he’d arrived at New Delphi with Dirk.  

The software unit continued to rattle off details, querying an orbital satellite for information about his immediate locale. None of it was useful.

“Who put me here?” he asked, interrupting the AI.  The voice shut off, he heard a click, and a rapid female voice began speaking.

“Oh thank heaven it’s you. I’ve been hiding for days and I didn’t know if you would ever return—”

“Corrine, calm down,” Jayson said, not sure if he was relieved. There was a pause, then:

“Aw, you remembered my name. That’s so sweet.  Please never leave me like that again.”

“Do you know who dropped me off?”

“No clue.”

Jayson stared into the desert.  “So I get dropped in the middle of the desert on a planet without any information.” He thought for a moment.  “Which way to the nearest city?”

“South. The only city. The rest are ruins.”

“Then south it is,” Jayson said.  “And no talking unless I say so.”  

The armor was insulated with its own temperature control, but even it was struggling under this heat.  After walking an hour he went through his storage hatches and found a liter of water and a day’s worth of rations.  He was relieved to have some supplies, but he didn’t know how long he would have to make them last.  A day? Week? He would have to drink sparingly.  

He swallowed a mouthful, put the canteen away, and started his trek again.  

A mirage oasis grew from the sand in front of him and then disappeared into the haze.

The heat made the walk difficult, but he was more worried about how open the landscape was.  The land was flat and empty, with only the occasional plant sprouting through the sand.  Dust swirled in the air.  Climes like this were notorious for oppressively hot days as well as freezing nights.  He would need to find shelter before the sun disappeared behind the horizon.

“Why do you think they left me here Corinne?” he asked after another two hours passed.  She hadn’t spoken the entire time, apparently willing to obey. “Speculate a bit.”

“You’re an assassin, right? Your computer database has some stored information.”

“Operative.  I only kill people when the job offers no alternative.  And technically no, I’m not.  I never finished training.”

“But you were close.  And you were good at what you did.”

“I was impulsive.  ‘Driven by ambition’ was how one teacher described me. He must have been right. I never even told anyone I was leaving the Academy.”

“Maybe this has to do with that.”

“You think they are punishing me for leaving?” Jayson asked.

“Maybe forgiving.”

Jayson grimaced. “Forgiving? Then why leave me stranded with limited supplies? But this is too elaborate for punishment. It seems more likely they would put a bullet in me. I don’t think it was the Silvent Academy.”

“Maybe this is an initiation?”

Jayson mulled over the idea.  “Not likely.  If it was an initiation for something, wouldn’t they tell me what I was expected to do?”

“So what do we do now?”

“We get off this rock.  I don’t know the planet and I don’t want to play games. I just want to go home.”

This time Corinne didn’t reply.  The day dragged on with no shelter in sight.  Jayson looked up at the sky and guessed it was an hour before nightfall, then remembered he hadn’t experienced this sun yet.  “How much light do we have left?” he asked

“Forty Seven minutes,” Corinne replied.  “And there is estimated fifty-two mile an hour winds tonight.”

“Wonderful.  Search nearby landscape for low spots to camp.  If I can find something to burn we should be alright.  At least I have food.  If I eat sparingly, I can make it last two days easy—”

“Oh that was my mistake.  Fifty-two mile an hour winds are the forecast inside city limits.  In the desert winds are expected around ninety-four.”

Jayson stopped walking.  “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“I guess I’m staying in the suit tonight.”

“You might want to bury it too.  A little bit.  So we don’t blow away.”

Jayson blew out a breath of air.  “Just find a low spot.”        

He walked another fifteen minutes before Corinne found a suitable location.  He set to work digging a hole to cover the lower half of his armor.  The environment was mostly sand, so it wasn’t hard to manipulate.  He insulated himself against the wind, then sat back and tried to relax.  He ate part of his rations and powered down his suit to only minimal heat and processing.  He couldn’t afford to be wasteful, so he would suffer through a low tech night. He wouldn’t get much sleep.

“You can talk about the planet now, Corinne,” Jayson said.

“Really?  It’s called Mali. Ok, so I was searching information about this world a while ago, and it looks like its short on clean water. Most of the surface is a sandy clay mixture and it almost never rains.  When it does the surface turns into a muddy mess that lasts for months. Even then the water is difficult to use. 

“Relief equipment was delivered by other planets through a trading company called Infinity Logistics belonging to a man named Oliver Atchison.  It is to cleanse the water supply and purify the underground reservoirs, but they still never have enough, so it’s rationed.  The citizens fight over it a lot.”

“So I should protect my water,” Jayson replied.  

“What you have is considered a decent amount, I guess.”

“What else did you find?  Is this a human world?”

“Uh huh. Just under a million inhabitants centered inside one city. Garran’s Ridge.  It's a mining planet with a large labor force and very few educated people.  Mali is part of the Indeil Kingdom and are sanctioned to receive tradesman from Terminus at a spaceport outside the city.  The rest of the world is uninhabitable.”

“Who’s the leader?”

“None currently listed.  But there is a name that pops up a lot.  Warren Smith.”

“Warren Smith,” Jayson mumbled.  He didn’t recognize the name.  “Anything else?”

“Nothing yet, but I’ve only searched public forums.  Do you want me to dig around in secure locations?”

“Nothing dangerous.  Don’t do anything that could get us into trouble.”

“Yes sir,” Corinne said, and then fell silent.  The helmet powered down and Jayson tried to sleep.  

Wolves howled, somewhere in the distance, and then fell silent.

A silver moon crept over the horizon like a shy maiden.

He slept for an hour the entire night. At one point the wind picked up to such vicious levels he was afraid the suit would be ripped out of the ground.  Ninety- four kilometers per hour seemed a modest estimate.  

He couldn't think of another time he'd ever been this exhausted as the wind buffeted him.  

Jayson watched the sun come up the next morning physically and mentally drained. He knew he couldn’t wait around.  He dug himself out of the hole and removed his helmet, breathing the fresh air.  His suit felt sluggish from the sand and he knew it would be weeks before he managed to clean it all out. So much for his mystery cleaner. He hoped that would be the last night he would ever spend here in the desert.

He trekked south again. Corinne loaded a map of this region, but Garran’s Ridge wasn’t clearly denoted.  The only maps she could find were outdated and the surveillance equipment on the satellite failed years ago.  The best guess was that the city lay between twenty and six hundred kilometers south.  

Not encouraging, but there was nothing Jayson could do about it.  The fear that he was left here to die, however, started to gain credibility as his water supply diminished.  

Around midday Corinne spoke up: “Vehicles approaching.  Quarter of a kilometer away and moving quickly.  Hover cars, maybe.”

Jayson readied his rifle and peered down the scope.  To the south he saw ten approaching vehicles.  “Jeeps. A lot of them.”

“Are you going to shoot them?”

Jayson lowered the rifle.  “Not the best way to make friends.”

“Then what do we do?”

“Nothing,” Jayson said.  He held the rifle unthreateningly and waited for the ground cars to arrive. They encircled him, keeping their engines running and guns trained on him. One of the vehicles powered down.  A short man with a cropped brown beard climbed out.

“Who are you?” the man asked.

“Jayson Coley. You?”

“Ralph Patel. We received a distress call two nights ago and came to investigate.”

Jayson didn’t reply.  The call came before he woke up, so it must have been sent by whoever dropped him off.  The man eyed him steadily.  “Hand over your weapon.”

Jayson felt his hands subconsciously tighten around the rifle.  “I’d rather not.”

The man narrowed his eyes.  “It wasn’t a request.”

He weighed his options. 

It didn’t take long.

Reluctantly, Jayson stuck the butt end of his rifle out.  The man took it roughly from him, checked the clip to see if it was loaded, and tossed it in his hover car.  “Now your water.”

“You’re robbing me?” Jayson asked, a hint of resignation creeping into his voice.  

“You can keep your equipment and food, but the water belongs to us.  We have orders to regulate any that comes from the outside.  It’s for your own safety,” the man said, then repeated: “your water.”

With a sigh, Jayson unhitched the compartment in his suit and pulled his canteen out.  The man grabbed it and put it in his vehicle.  “We’ll take you to Warren and he can decide what to do with you.  Climb in back.”

Jayson clambered onto the back of the Jeep and they headed south. The ground was rough and they bounced over the sand dunes.  

A man sat opposite him, scruffy and wearing little more than rags with dirt smudges covering his face.  He used the tip of a dagger to clean grime from under his fingernails.  Seeing Jayson watching him, he grinned. He only had five teeth that Jayson could see.

It was a twenty minute trip, so he’d only been less than thirty kilometers out.  A little more than a day on foot.  

The city was large, cramped, and poor.  Beggars littered the roads and dust clung to the air. He’d thought New Delphi was a ravaged city, but the more he saw of Garran’s Ridge, the more he came to realize his home planet would be their vacation spot.  Not just the beggars but even some laborers were emaciated, showing signs of lacking nutrition and hygiene. 

A boy no older than four with dark skin and hair tried to climb onto the Jeep.  The nail-picker shoved him off with a boot.

No one smiled.  There was suffering in abundance.  

They passed an alleyway. At its mouth a crying mother held a sleeping child. No, not sleeping. Dead.

“Jayson,” he heard in his helmet. Corinne was whispering.  He hadn’t known an AI program could whisper.  “I found something.”

“Did you send the distress call?”

“No, but listen.  I decided to hack a few computer networks, and I got curious when I noticed two unlisted warehouses.  Each has a contingent of guards, but the manifests say they are both empty. So I dug deeper, and both belong to Warren Smith.”

“What happened to doing nothing conspicuous?”

“I piggybacked the network onto a computer inside the warehouse and found this:” Corinne continued, ignoring him.  The view of the city dimmed as Corinne brought up a series of images and files on Jayson’s viewfinder. He saw the inside of a dark warehouse.  It was enormous and packed with bulky equipment.  The place looked abandoned, and nothing was in use.

 “What am I looking at?” he asked.

“That’s the water purifying equipment delivered over the last twelve years.  Half of it, anyway You can guess where the other half is.”

“They aren’t using it?”

“Smith has it on lockdown.  The purifiers were never used at all.  Yet there are constant broadcasts about a water shortage. Warren releases regular statements claiming that the Indeil Kingdom turned its back on them. That they were left here to die.  He’s using the water shortage to dominate the planet.”

"Why?  What possible reason could he have to make people suffer like this?"

"He...um..."

"Corinne..."

"He has Union ties.  He's planning on getting the population to rebel against the Royal Family so he can turn the planet over to Darius Gray."

Jayson felt his breathing quicken and closed his eyes.  “Okay,” he conceded.

“Jayson, he’s letting children die so he can trick people and—”

“Corinne,” Jayson added sharply.  “Shut up.”

To her credit, she did.  Jayson’s mind was racing, but he didn’t want to let emotion take control. Got to stay calm.  Not my planet, not my problem.  The last time I tried to help people in need, I got hijacked and dropped here.  

The Jeep stopped outside a four-story building surrounded by dozens of guards milling about.  

“Come on,” Ralph said, parking and climbing out.  He grabbed the water but left Jayson’s rifle in the vehicle.  He gestured for Jayson to walk ahead.  

The building was old and musty, but bustling with activity.  There were another fifteen guards inside the lobby, as well as dozens of civilian personnel working at computer terminals.  Of the fifteen armed men, five were in powered Union armor, though lacking any distinguishing marks.  They eyed him as he walked inside. 

He was led across the lobby, up two flights of stairs to the third floor, and down a twenty meter hallway to a set of offices.  They paused outside the largest set of doors, which directly faced the staircase. The hallway split to the right and left, leading to more offices that appeared unoccupied.  

A receptionist nodded to Ralph, opened the office door, and stuck her head in.  After a moment, she looked back at them and opened the door all the way.  “Mr. Smith will see you.”

“Thanks baby doll,” Ralph said, roughly pushing Jayson forward.  It was large with a bay window.  A gaunt man with deep set eyes and pale skin sat at the desk scribbling on a piece of paper as they entered.  

He made them wait ten minutes before finally glancing up.  

“Helmet off son,” Warren said, scribbling again.  Jayson unsnapped the helmet and held it at his side. Another few minutes passed.  “A soldier.  We don't see many like you this far out. Are you going to cause problems?” Warren asked.  Jayson didn’t reply, and Warren looked up again.  “I asked you a question.”

“No sir,” Jayson replied.

“Good.  That’s better.  I don’t know anything about you, but you seem a good sort.  If you understand one simple thing, you’ll get along fine: this is a peaceful town.”  

Jayson didn’t reply. None was needed.

“I heard your distress signal and guessed you’d be looking to get off world.  That right, soldier?”

Jayson nodded.

“That’s good.  Real good.  Keep your nose clean and stay out of trouble, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Jayson nodded, but Warren had already returned to his scribbling. Jayson was quickly led back downstairs and outside.  “We’ll be keeping an eye on you,” Ralph said, walking back toward the administrative building. “We don’t tolerate outsiders poking their nose where it doesn’t belong.” 

"I understand."

"Come back tomorrow and we might have good news," he said, then hesitated.  "We’ll hang on to your gun for you."

Jayson nodded. He’d been expecting as much.

Ralph glanced around and then leaned close to Jayson.  “As you can see, things are going smoothly.  Let your boss know that we only need a few more weeks before the planet will be in full revolt.”

Jayson blinked.  "What?" What boss?

But Ralph was already gone, disappearing back into the building.  Jayson waited for a minute and then turned and headed down the road.  With luck he could find an inn to spend the night.  Preferably some place without cockroaches.