#and Poseidon just took the route of being a better dad than his was | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wefoundloveunderthelight · 4 years ago

Photo

Marco’s Home for Lost Boys

Read on AO3 - Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Emma Swan

The sting of the cold air does not deter Emma from leaning out the window in the small room she had occupied for a few hours. Her tiny feet hit the ground with a quiet thump before she peered back into the house.

They won’t even miss me when they realize I’m gone.

It took hours for the boys to finally quiet down enough that Emma was confident that the small house in the woods was finally still and asleep. She knew she needed to get back to her safe space before the warmth of the home convinced her to snuggle in and stay the night.

She closed her eyes and imagined the route she had taken to get here in her head, mentally pulling up the turns and following them back to the town road. Storybrooke was a quiet town. Only one vehicle had passed her on her travel back to the docks. She was quick to run into the woods to hide herself from the car as it sped by her on the dark road.

A short time later, she slipped through the small space in the fence that led to the docks, the breeze coming off the water causing her to shiver and pull her jacket tighter around her.

Her legs were wobbly as she snuck aboard the ship that had brought her to this town and pulled hard on the door leading to the crate that held her things. She barely realized the sigh of relief that came over her as she found her blanket and backpack hidden in the back of the cold metal box.

She has no home.

She frowned but sank below her little white blanket that barely covered her tiny frame and closed her eyes, trying not to imagine what Marco and his lost boys would think when they woke in the morning.

Just another lost girl without a home.

Killian sat up in bed the moment he felt the hands on his arm. He was covered in sweat. He must have been having that dream again. “Sorry was I screaming again?” He reached up to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

“The girl is gone.” Robin’s voice sounded serious and he opened his eyes, looking around the dark room.

“Gone?” He blinked until he could see clearer and saw Robin pulling on his jacket.

“Dad and I are going to drive around and see if we can find her. August is going to stay here with you and Will.”

He moved to leave, and Killian grabbed his arm. “I want to come with, I found that blasted dog last time it escaped.”

“This isn’t a dog, Killian.” He scoffed.

“I can help!” He pleaded and his brother groaned.

“You’re going to be a right pain in the arse until I let you come, aren’t you?” He grinned and jumped out of bed to pull on his clothes and jacket.

“You know me so well, brother.”

Killian knew the girl had the look of someone who was ready to run when they were eating dinner. He’d seen that look in the mirror before he finally settled into the Home for Lost Boys. He’d done the same thing himself when he first arrived at Marco’s, fear in his eyes and anger in the heart of a 6-year-old boy. Almost 4 years later and Killian had lost the fear, but his anger still resided on many occasions.

“Killian, stay in the truck, I’m going to check in with the Sheriff.” He was pulled from his thoughts as he heard the truck door slam shut leaving him alone in the dark with just the glow of the street lamps illuminating his space.

Opening the door, Killian stepped onto the pavement and leaned his back against the old truck. In the distance he heard the horn of one of the ships in the harbor.

Didn’t August say he found her on the docks?

Killian looked around for his dad and Robin who were still in the station. Maybe he understood this girl better than he thought. Maybe he could help her. He pushed off the truck and his steps quickened toward the docks.

He surveyed his surroundings, trying to put himself in the shoes of a 6-year-old girl, scared, lonely, and running. The boat nearest to him was missing its plank and the space was too far for a small girl to jump to. He scanned further down the dock and his eyes spotted the large ship full of metal crates, the plank still attached to the dock.

Bingo.

Once he was on board the ship, he began walking down the aisles of shipping crates, looking at anything that was on the ground that a small child could get into. He tugged on a few of the doors, most not even budging. He was about to give up when his eye caught the red crate with a door sitting slightly ajar.

He pulled the door which swung open with a loud screech. Peering inside the darkness there was movement at the back of the crate.

“Um, I’m a friend. I’m not here to hurt you. Hello?” He took a tentative step into the crate, keeping the door slightly open to let in a stream of light from the harbor. “I’m from Marco’s. Uh, we had dinner. I got you a chair to sit on.” Killian groaned, he sounded like a bloody idiot.

In the dim light he saw a streak of blonde peek up from behind some of the boxes. “I’m coming back to you, please don’t be scared lass.”

He stepped around the box and saw the girl huddled in the corner of the crate, her arms wrapped tightly around her as she sat shivering.

“Hey!” He said with a weak smile. “You cold?” He pulled his jacket from his arms and held it out toward her. “I don’t bite, but you don’t want to catch the plague. You’ll be stuck here a lot longer if you end up in the hospital with flu or something.”

She stood up and yanked the jacket from his hands, pulling it over her shoulders, and cowering back into her corner. Killian tentatively walked closer to her and slid down with his back against the wall of the crate until he was sitting next to her. She stared up at him with emotion in her eyes.

Fear. Apprehension. Distrust.

“I don’t blame you, ya know. For running.” He kept his eyes straight ahead as he spoke. “I did the same when I got to Marco’s. I was just a lad, no older than you, love.” Killian remembers only getting to the town road before Marco had pulled the truck up beside him, handed him a blanket and a cup of hot cocoa and then turning right around in his truck, leaving him at the end of the road with his mouth hung open. Killian had waited thirty minutes before walking himself back to the house and crawling back in his bed. The old man never mentioned it again.

For this girl to have made it all the way to the docks before being found told him she was either already an expert at running or Marco had let his guard down in his old age.

He chanced a look at the blonde and was met with the moonlight shining into two small emerald orbs. He had forgotten what it was like to see someone so innocent and yet he was overwhelmed with the amount of sadness these eyes held. He didn’t know what had happened to the lass, but he was sure if she was out here on her own, it wasn’t good.

“Good form coming to the docks.” He said with a grin. “I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He put his fingers to his lips before continuing. “I come down here to think. The sea speaks to me. Noe of us are supposed to be down here, it annoys Leroy to no end when he finds us here but….” He sighs. “This is where I belong.”

Killian didn’t know why he was telling this child his story. He didn’t even talk to David about his beginnings. He didn’t discuss the reasons for his nightmares. David was his best friend but even he hadn’t earned that space in his head.

“You see, I came to stay with Marco because of the sea.” Her eyebrow shot up and he chuckled when he realized she was hanging on his every word. “My dad used to take me and my brother sailing. We would spend many a day at sea, fishing and sailing from one port to the next. One day when I was naught but your age, we were at sea for a trip up the coast when a storm caught us.” His thoughts returned to that day as he closed his eyes, breathing in deeply before continuing.

“Dad used to say that fighting with my brother Liam, would anger Poseidon.” He heard the girl gasp beside him. “Yeah, Poseidon’s a dick.” He whispered. “Liam and I must have really made him angry that day because the ocean roared up and attacked, turning our little ship over.” He squeezed his eyes to stop any tears from falling. “They found me hanging on to a piece of the wreckage. Dad had always told me that I'm a survivor.”

The girl stirred beside him; he saw a sad smile before she clutched a knitted dirty blanket in her arms and squeezed, hiding her face in the folds.

“Anyway, my dad and Liam are still out there somewhere. And one day I’m going to be a Captain of my own ship and I’m going to sail out and find them.” He resolutely shook his head, one day he would finish the search that no one else would take on. He knew they were out there. They wouldn’t abandon him. They needed him and he wasn’t about to let them down.

“So, I get it, you must be searching for something too. But I just wanted you to know that it’s ok to take a break in your search. Warm bed, delicious food. It doesn’t mean you’re going to stop searching.”

He heard her sniffle, and he took a chance. “Jones, Killian Jones.” She looked up at him. “We didn’t really get an introduction earlier.”

The girl looked at her feet and then back up at his eyes. “So anyway…”

“Emma.” It was said so quietly that if they weren’t in a nearly empty metal crate, he wouldn’t have heard her.

She doesn’t know why she decides to talk to him. But she hears her voice squeak when she does.

“Emma.”

He turns toward her, a smile on his face.

“It’s nice to meet you Emma. Would you honor me with your last name?”

She frowns.

Doe. No, she refused to be Emma Doe.

“I, uh, I dunno.” She shoves her blanket into his arms. “Just Emma, don't really have a last name.” She sighs as she points to the purple stitching with her name. The only clue she ever had to who she was. The small blanket she was found with, abandoned on the side of a road.

Like Garbage, unwanted.

He carefully takes the blanket, his fingers tracing the stitching of her name.

“Well Emma, what do you say we go back and find Marco. I think you will find him quite relieved to know you are ok.”

Emma knows this isn’t a home. She will never be home. But a warm bed sure does beat this cold metal floor. If Killian can wait to find his family, then she can wait to run off in search of whatever it is she needs to find. She reaches down to grab her dirty rucksack beside her and tugs it onto her shoulders.

She sees the small white toy fall to the ground before she can grab it. She anxiously reaches for the familiar object, but he gets to it first.

“Sorry,” he whispers. He stares at the dirty white toy swan in his hands, the corners of his mouth turning upward. "This is important to you is it?" He asks as he passes the swan toward her.

She nods with a faint smile.

“Swan.” He barely breathes out. “Emma Swan.” He says more firmly.

Emma Swan

A name of her own. No one had ever bothered calling her anything but Emma. Resigned to calling her Doe. No one cared enough to give her permanence.

“Emma Swan.” She says timidly with a small smile.

“Come on Swan, let’s get out of here.” He stands and offers his hand toward her. She grabs her things and stands beside him.

She doesn’t realize when it happens but before her brain even catches up to her, she finds her palm pressed against his as they walk from the docks hand in hand.

2 years later

“At least I’m not an orphan.”

“Little lost orphan girl”

“Freak”

Emma was cowering under the playground, her hands over her ears.

“Get outta here.” A familiar voice boomed above the playground.

“Make me.” One of the kids screeched.

“Aye, I can and will if you don’t get the hell out of here.” The other voice bellowed.

“He said hell!” one of the kids screamed, running toward the school.

She looked up to see Killian hunched over. “Swan, you alright, lass?”

Emma scurried out from under the slide. “Yeah, I’m good, Jones. You didn’t have to come to my rescue, I had it handled.” Staring between David and Killian with a pout.

“Yeah, looked handled to me.” David quipped sarcastically.

“Do those kids still do that to you often?” Killian had his arms crossed in front of him.

“Stand down Captain, I don’t need your help.” She saluted him mockingly.

He sighed, “David and I aren’t going to be here next year to keep an eye on you.”

Emma knew that they would be headed to Storybrooke Jr High after the summer. She had gotten used to the boys always having an eye on her.

“Emma, we just want to make sure you are safe.” David stepped closer to her, putting his arm around her shoulder.

“Thanks, Dad!” She rolled her eyes. “I can take care of myself though.” Shrugging his arm off her and walking toward the school.

“We know you can, but it’s our job to watch out for you. We’re your brothers.” He continued in his usual I’m-the-big-brother voice. She’d heard him give this speech time and again when the kids picked on her.

Little lost orphan girl living in a home with all boys.

“Not actually my brothers.” She huffed.

“Bad form, Swan!” Killian chided.

She turned and stomped her way back to school, hiding the smile she carried knowing her “boys” were only looking out for her.

“Where the hell were you, mate?” Killian had Will cornered in his room. “We told you to keep an eye on her, you know the kids in your class are mean to her.”

Will shrugged, “Mate,” He echoed, “Belle French.”

Killian groaned. 3rd graders were so annoying. Will had been trying to get a kiss from Belle French since the 1st grade. “Belle French!” He repeats. “She wouldn’t kiss you if you were the last human on earth.”

“Not true.” He beams with a smile.

“I’m to believe you finally earned a kiss from Miss Belle?” He exclaimed.

“Er, well not exactly.” He paused and then his smile increased. “But she kicked me in me balls and stole my lunch this time.” Killian groaned. “It’s progress. Last time she just ignored me when I talked to her.” His younger brother insisted.

“I fear we need to have a chat about girls soon.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “But seriously, I need you to focus on Emma. She’s your responsibility now, lad. David and I can’t be around to keep an eye on her from across town.”

“Oy, I’m not a bloody babysitter.” He growled. “Just because we’re the same age doesn’t mean my life has to stop. I’m 9 years old, I have a future ahead of me!” Will was always looking ahead.

Killian poked a finger in his chest. “If anything happens to her while we aren’t around, I’m going to bloody well rig you up from the back porch. How’s that for a future? You understand me, mate.” Adding a strong emphasis on his final word.

“You are such an arse.” Will shoots back before pausing. “Ok fine, I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Bloody well see to it that you do.” He shouts, turning to leave.

“But you have to show me how to get Belle French to talk to me.”

“I fear that may be beyond my expertise.” He teases as he shoves his brother back onto his bed. “First start by not being a prat.” His young brothers’ eyebrows raise, and his tongue sticks out of his mouth mockingly before Killian steps out of his room and into the small hallway.

He paused outside Emma’s door, hearing the short sniffles behind the wood. Emma had not had an easy time in Storybrooke. Children were generally cruel when it came to people who were different than them. Killian never gave much thought to the stares he received when he first arrived. Boys were different than girls though. At least he was. He didn’t care what people thought of him, much the opposite actually.

“Swan, permission to enter?” He hears a commotion in the room and then a quiet response.

“Granted.”

When he pushes open the door, she’s sitting at the top of her bed, her eyes are puffy and she’s trying to hide her face behind a book.

“Good book?” He laughs.

“The best.” She says dryly.

“It’s upside down.” He teases and she drops the book, exhaling loudly.

“Why are you always an ass?”

He sits at the end of her bed, “Sorry, love. Don’t mean to tease. I know it’s been a bit of a rough day.”

“I’m fine.” She rolls her eyes in frustration.

“I am aware.” He said quietly. “I did not mean to deprive you of your own rescue today, Emma. As you said, you had it handled.” He bowed his head toward her in defeat. She raised her chin before speaking, “Hell yeah I did.”

He stood from the bed and headed toward the door. “Better not let Marco hear that kind of language coming out of your mouth, Swan. There will be a bar of soap on your plate for dinner.”

“Killian…” He paused, turning back to face her. “Thanks.” She smiled softly.

He nodded, closing the door behind him. The smile growing on his face.

Tagging:

@lfh1226-linda

#Marco's home for lost boys #stacy's fics #captain swan #captain swan au #captain swan fics #emma swan #killian jones #my fic

5 notes · View notes

shy-magpie · 4 years ago

Text

RQG 152

Poor Alex, there was no way to know and changing the story would be more of a breach of the implied contract than going forward. Plus side this warning implies we'll get more info on how the biology of the infection works before RSB actually explodes. To be clear I am all for warnings, I just imagine this was one heck of an awkward position for Alex & co to find themselves in. Well one would think they wanted to get through the intros as fast as physically possible! Seriously bless em for sticking with the structure instead of saying screw it and diving right in. Must be frustrating but it really helps me get in the right space to listen. Yeah it was a bit of an altruism run. That Ben physically ill at the prospect of characters talking? Yuck it up, I was specifically promised three (3) distinct topics would be addressed including both coping mechanisms and back stories. Poor Azu. If someone doesn't hold her while she has a proper cry I will be an unhappy Magpie. Are the new kids going to be invited to the conversations that are totally for sure not going to be put off for a month? Retcon: Barnes and Carter actually fought well it. I guess they were just down to the tricky ones. Theatrical much? Cel is great, have I said that enough? Well obviously not it should be declared at least hourly: "2 o' clock and Cel is great". But right after last episode instead of backing down (and IDK implying Wilde told the new kids their pronouns), Cel is immediately introducing themself with them and emphasizing their importance. Hamid right in there with the leadership, telling the duo that the party needs to go into isolation. I know having Zolf around must have took some weight off his shoulders but the man has grown since season one or even since Prague. He didn't lose that just because he cheers up when not solely responsible for leading the party. Note there is a messy negotiation with Zolf about who is in charge coming up and it is a mark of my trust in this show that I'm not dreading it. Am curious if it will be explicit enough for the white picket fence kids to pick up on, I know I have a thing about rank but some people seem to miss that aspect entirely. OK point Zolf but even with his charisma score there has to be a better way to put it than "do that and you are responsible for infecting Jasper and the village". Wow I guess that is the case isn't it. Thank you leader!Hamid coming in again. Getting Cel the kind of updates on home Hamid was denied in quarantine is fairly low risk for great gains in Cel's comfort with the whole thing. Point of clarity: as much as I hate to admit it, once the quarantine began they couldn't really keep Hamid in the loop since Ishaq was in the care of the Harlequins. Its been implied even without simply escaping an infected person could have means of communication that work in am anti magic cell. The village however is public info. Zolf, I want that again in small words! Are we talking black death or infrastructure problems? Because a few targeted infections could take out the government but not directly kill the citizens. Cel is doing the forced cheer again. What the hell have they been through that they default to words of affirmation for gory violence? Like most characters acknowledge the gore or that it was helpful, not both. Barnes is more reserved outside of the fight. Issues? Trauma? Oh Helen spelling it out, he's my type, crap. "Emotionally unavailable pirate" is a lot of people's type TBF. No wonder I made a warding gesture on hearing Zolf's description and didn't warm up till Dover. These characters wear the red flag as a cape and I'm surprised when my heart gets broken every time. Eh Zolf came back and is doing well enough, maybe Barnes will turn out to just not be chatty vs heart rending. And Hamid in there with the initiative casting Detect Magic so they don't have to face all the risks implied with not checking over the bodies. Barnes and Carter are glowing "like a fireworks factory where things have gone wrong". Only Water Breathing on the mooks. Speaking of emotionally unavailable pirates, Zolf sounds resigned as hell. I know he's working on it but the situation would depress anyone and he's been having a time of it, what with the puzzles and all. Shutting down isn't actually coping better than being shouty just more convenient. Have I already mentioned I want someone to comfort Azu on screen so she can put herself first for once? Remember how bright she shone in Cairo? If she doesn't process soon she's going to echo Zolf's arc. Carter is trying to looking at the bright side. Thank you Ben and Alex, not only a mood lightener but one that reminds us that Zolf asks direct questions now. And Zolf just moved as clearly as possible to protect Azu after Carter lashed out in response to her. I know they have a ways to get to where Grizzop & Azu were but I think they are at least proper team mates. Maybe having Zolf on this side of the bars this time will ease anything Azu is carrying from their introduction. Cel is a delight. Did they just suggest hamster balls? I love how Alex jokes about his own set design. Ah there is Ben's Minecraft joke. I think that's what you call environmental story telling. I love the mental image of them making their entrance crashing the mine cart into the ambush, like half way between a roller-coaster and sledding. Ah its been so long Zolf can't apply his memories of mining. They are officially out! Azu and Zolf are finally breathing right. Hey Zolf broke the weather machine! Cel takes a look see. Plumes of smoke from Shoin's? Wreckage from all the storms. Zolf joins Cel and USES HIS WORDS! I am so proud of him. Like not kidding learning to proactively offer praise & comfort instead of only offering concrete assistance in reaction is a huge step. Oh Cel! Getting yourself killed fighting alone would not have been better than defending your patch. And Zolf is right there, god remember Paris? Remember Prague? Now look at him. And there is the reality check. Not as jarring as it could have been. Azu is face down on the ground near Hamid! No more putting on her game face and slogging through it! Yes, process all you need darlin, no reason to rush. Hamid checks in! Azu takes his hand and explicitly talks about how scary it was when he was missing. Hamid talks about putting on a brave face for Skraak! RQG really just said "we're giving the fandom everything they want" in an episode recorded before we had a chance to ask. Azu checks in with Hamid! Oh Hamid its ok not to be ok. Oh hat Azu! Hamid call your family 18mumble is a go! Alex I will scream if he gets another delaying tactic. Cross your fingers we might get Ishaq and Saira! Azu assures him it would OK. Timing Zolf Horses! Topaz! Barnes: right Well that's a fair reaction to a celestial camel, he doesn't even know what the T stands for. Azu hugs Topaz Thank you Alex for making judgmental celestial camel canon. How GMs don't all go insane with power from the moment it hits they can rewrite their world on a whim is beyond me. A Shetland for Hamid, a standard sounding horse for Cel, a cart horse for Azu, and another Shetland for Zolf. Carter can't get the question out before Zolf shuts him down. He is sticking to his word to Skraak, the island belongs to the Kobolds. Hamid calls en route! Bryn remembers to roll for it! Ishaq is a great kid, such a good sign he sounds like a kid too. Yes the kids are all together in the country house! Dad is at a redacted location, thank you Alex! Mom is alright! Saira is busy and the biggest problem with Ismail is that he is now taller than Ishaq! Ismail is good at magic too. Family bonding time. Einstein is working. Emeka & Veseek are helping things. Ed is with the family. Zolf is not happy about the call. Fair Zolf but none of us are regretting that call. Eh it being a one time thing is fair. Have I mentioned I like how Hamid & Zolf bicker? Its not like with Grizzop. They assume good faith and argue about the issue not score points. Part of why I shipped them in the beginning honestly: charismatic as Hamid is he probably impressioned like a duck on the first person to care more about what he was saying than how he said it. They joke about how hard nonverbal shots are in a podcast. Yes Alex we really do respect your craft. Might have been reassuring Ben. Helen is on the audience's side as always and tells him to pay up on the promised coping mechanisms talk. And Alex makes them roll a perception check. Do not talk block. Carter has been trying to eavesdrop. Azu tells him he isn't invited and Zolf tosses something at his head. Carter slinks back off. Zolf is still not good with words but he is resisting the urge to take it back. That counts damn it! Azu: your not good at talking for someone who says we need to talk. Yes Azu, and thats what makes it special. He is willing to put himself out there and do things he is bad at for the sake of the team. I like how Helen plays Azu getting over her issues with Zolf rather than just leaping to "Hamid vouched for you so we're besties". I need a clip of this, Zolf is offering to listen and be there while respecting boundaries and citing his own experience. Helen is great, Azu jumps right into the 18 months by asking about his relationship with Poseidon. Which again makes sense, as Azu is still working on "we met after you drugged, trapped, and imprisoned me". Which I get but seriously couldn't it have been in the stew or something? Drugging a woman's drink has connotations. Azu backstory(ish) oh thank Alex her cult is still doing the good work. Zolf tells Azu this, and offers her an out? Hamid & Zolf offer reassurance. Yes Hamid specifically tells her it isn't her fault. Zolf assures her that she isn't responsible for Sasha's decisions. Cel and Carter are chatting about what they've seen on the island. Barnes tells them to keep the volume down and does Zolf's thing of bouncing something off Carter's head when he's loud again. Hamid moves to check in with Cel. Cel calls him on it. Hamid asks what Cel plans to do after quarantine! Thank you Bryn! Cel doesn't know, ow. Cel feels obligated to be more proactive. Hamid reassures and points out that they were able to do it as a team so its not on Cel for not acting alone. Cel what is your backstory, afraid of being the monster. Thank you, I could wrap myself in this episode like a blanket. Cel how do you know that about being friends with mercs? Hamid would do it again but wants them to have a choice. Cel: When I call you little buddy I m not referring to the size of your heart. And that was veering saccharine so Ben swoops in with the Harrison Campbell joke. Do not make me get into why Hamid might be using snobbery as a cover for continuing to care more about what people might think than what he wants. Its a cheap shot for what could equally be he's that age and still has some flaws to work through. Thank you Alex for being realistic about horse pace without turning it into a word problem. Wilde! Cel points out the inn keeper could be infected, the boys explain the system of watching one another. Zolf is not letting Wilde get cute with his team again. Wilde wants them "fully supervised" in the bath. I feared that Alex, Wilde turned himself off again. Zolf calls him on it, kinda. They skim past the bath, thank you that could have been problematic. Thank goodness they are leaving the cell door open but locking the trap door. The new kids are in quarantine with them. Fair, going to be fun, but fair.

#live blog thingy #Rusty Quill Gaming #RQG spoilers #RQG season 4 #RQG 152 #long post

7 notes · View notes

roman-writing · 5 years ago

Text

A Study in Hospitality (3/?)

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses / Percy Jackson and the Olympians

Pairing: Hilda Valentine Goneril / Marianne von Edmund

Rating: T

Wordcount: 7,657

Summary: There’s a new student at camp half-blood. Hilda, daughter of Aphrodite, has been tasked with showing her around. A Percy Jackson and the Olympians AU

read it below the cut, or you can read it here on AO3

Hilda had a weird dream. Weirder than usual, that is.

Normally, there would be flying, or all of her hair and teeth falling out, or being rushed to an event but not being able to find anything in her closet except piles upon piles of Doc Martens. You know. Nightmares. The fuzzy, barely half-remembered kind which she awoke from with a grumbled "- the hell?"

This dream had no fuzzy edges. It was crystal clear, like seeing through a fisheye lens. There was a vaulted stone crypt with an altar shaped like an empty bed, but there were no windows or doors along the walls. She stood in the middle of the room, and every breath was an icy mist, pale clouds from her mouth that faded into nothing.

Hilda shivered. She blinked, and her mother loomed over her. Aphrodite was ten feet tall and utterly inhuman, with eyes like a meadow in spring. She was draped in a pale lilac dress that shimmered when she moved.

"Tell me, darling," she murmured, and placed her hands upon Hilda's shoulders. Hilda had never felt so dwarfed in her entire life as she did in that moment. "How would you like to die?"

"What?" said Hilda, the single word accompanied by a plume of lung-warm mist.

And then Aphrodite's hands were around her throat. She squeezed, and Hilda choked. Reaching up, Hilda tugged at her mother's wrists, but no amount of demigod strength could hope to contend with the real deal.

"My little girl," Aphrodite smiled, and she sounded so soft, her hands like cold dark iron. "Off to be a big hero."

Hilda kicked her feet. She did not know when she had been lifted off the floor, until suddenly the ground was no longer beneath her, and her legs dangled. She gasped for air. Her head swam.

Her mother's voice was a whisper at her ear now. A golden curl of Aphrodite's hair brushed against Hilda's cheek. "Just remember: don't -"

Something knocked against the bed, and Hilda wrenched awake with a wheeze. Her vision still reeled. She clutched at her chest. In the middle of the night, she had tangled herself up in the blankets. Now, she kicked herself free.

"Yo, wake up already," Sylvain said. He leaned a shoulder against one of the posts that held her bunk bed aloft. "Lorenz told me to tell you that this week's chores list are on the corkboard by the door."

Finally rid of the sheets, Hilda sank back down to her bed. Her heart was still racing. "Thank you," she gasped.

At that, Sylvain's eyebrows rose. "Thank you?" he repeated, incredulous. "Are you sure you're feeling okay there, Hilda? I think the last time you said 'thank you' to me when we traded duties for a week so you could get to second base with that blue-haired kid from Ares cabin."

Closing her eyes, Hida inhaled a deep breath. Air had never tasted so sweet. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just -"

She waved at him to leave her alone. He shrugged, and sauntered off without another word.

Dreams with gods weren't exactly uncommon, but Hilda was hard-pressed to remember the last time she'd had one. Most gods took a general disinterest in their half-mortal children. Aphrodite was no exception. Hell, Hida had only ever met her mother in person three times before, and that was considered a rarity even amongst this crowd. Most demigods were lucky to meet their divine parent once in their entire lives. Or unlucky, depending on the circumstances.

Hilda had always considered herself fortunate to be so favoured. Being the favoured kid -- along with Holst -- had always been something to flaunt. After that dream however, she wasn’t sure she wanted to see dear old mom again any time soon. Even if it was just a dream.

Which, of course it was. Just a dream. Just a really weird dream.

With a groan, Hilda clambered out of bed. She yawned, and rubbed at her eyes as she dragged her feet over to the line of self-contained bathroom cubicles at the far end of the cabin. She shut and locked the door behind her. She already had her toothbrush in her mouth, when she caught sight of herself in the mirror, and froze.

Her eyes widened. Toothbrush still sticking from the side of her mouth, Hilda leaned forward to more closely inspect her reflection.

There were bruises at her throat.

The bruises mostly vanished before breakfast. Being a demigod had its perks, like quick healing. But the bruises still managed to freak Hilda out in the meantime.

Seriously. What the hell? Being a demigod was supposed to be about being near indestructible, having cool powers, and doing backflips with swords. Not whatever the fuck this was.

Before she could even reach the dining pavilion however, Hilda was assailed en route.

"Hey! Hilda! Wait up!"

She turned, irritated. The dining pavilion was close enough that she could smell breakfast. Plus, she'd had a pretty shit morning, all things considered. She wanted food.

"What now?" Hilda asked.

Claude jogged up to her. His usual bow was disguised as a garishly coloured headband. Somehow, he managed to make it work; he had enough confidence to pull off even the most outrageous outfits. If Hilda hadn’t known better, she might have thought they were partly related.

He stopped at a comfortable distance from her. "Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"Proving that it can even happen to the best of us." Hilda made a 'hurry up' motion with her hand. "Now, what's up? My stomach is angry today, so make it snappy."

If anything, Claude took on a more relaxed air. "Far be it from me to come between you and a meal. But I'll be quick. It's about Marianne -"

Hilda rolled her eyes. "Gods, not this again."

"Just hear me out." Claude raised his hands and then made a gesture as though parting a curtain for a grand finale. "Poseidon's daughter."

"Really?" Hilda said, her tone flat and completely unimpressed.

"Oh, c'mon! Think about it." He began to tick off items on his fingers. "Causes earthquakes. Loves horses. Suspiciously avoids going into water around others. The trident on the coin you were telling me about."

"A weird broken trident," Hilda corrected.

"Right. A trident. Also, you've got a lot of hickeys on your neck, just so you know."

Even the mention of the bruises fading at her throat made Hilda's blood run cold. She lifted the collar of her shirt, and grumbled, "Yeah. Thanks."

"I thought you weren't seeing anyone right now? The only person I ever see you hanging around with these days is -" And then Claude's eyes widened. "You're canoodling with the new girl?"

At that, Hilda let out a snort of laughter. It was so utterly ridiculous an idea, that it drove the recent memory of her nightmare right from her mind. She clapped him on the shoulder, and hung on as she continued to laugh. "Okay. Thank you. Really. I needed a good laugh."

"Well, if it's not her, then who is it?" Claude's mouth widened into a smirk. "I do see you being cornered by Seteth an awful lot. That would explain things."

Hilda shoved at his shoulder. "Ew! Gross! As if!"

He still managed to take the time to pat her on the back in a manner that was both friendly and patronising at the same time. It made her think of her brother. "It's okay. I get it. He's got the hot dad thing going for him. Some people are into that."

"Okay. I'm leaving," Hilda huffed, and -- true to her word -- spun around in her heel and marched off, nose in the air.

Claude called after her, "Just think about what I said! About Poseidon! And dad bods!!"

"No, thank you!" Hilda waved over her shoulder without looked back, then pushed past one of the draped banners that hung between the pillars of the pavilion.

The pavilion had no official entrances. Shaped like an ancient temple without walls, it could be entered on any side that had a gap between the pillars. The campers within were shielded from the elements by a mixture of magic and long lengths of cloth, each bearing the colours and emblems of the various gods and goddesses represented at the camp. When Hilda passed beneath the banner of Aphrodite, she could smell myrtle in spring, and feel the brush of dove's wings against her skin.

It was early enough in the morning that there were still quite a few people seated at their respective tables. That in and of itself earned Hilda a few curious turned heads and waves in her direction. Normally, she didn't wander into the dining pavilion until the very last second. She would laze around in bed, and then use a late breakfast as an excuse to stave off chores for as long as possible.

Now, she waved back at one or two people. On the walk over to the Aphrodite table however, she paused. Lysithea was just finishing up scraping leftovers into the central brazier. The coals spat and popped, but nothing more. Just as Lysithea was setting down her plate and making to leave the pavilion, Hilda stepped in her path.

"Good morning, Lysithea!" Hilda said, far more peppy than she actually felt, but needs must. "Aren't you looking scholarly today!"

Lysithea arched an eyebrow down at her. She was the youngest in their age bracket, but she was still taller than Hilda, which irritated Hilda to no end. "What do you want?"

Hilda tried for a look of wide-eyed innocence. "Do I need to want something from you? Can't a girl just be nice and say hello? And maybe flirt shamelessly a little?"

"I already have a girlfriend. So, I'm not interested. Thanks." And with that, Lysithea started walking away.

Hilda had to scamper to get back into her path and stop her from going too far. "Okay, okay!" Hilda said, her voice dropping back to its usual timbre. "I may have been hoping to ask you a few questions. But it's because you're soooo smart, and I was just wanting your opinion on something that's been bugging me lately."

Lysithea only squinted in reply.

"You don't belive me?" Hilda asked. And, okay, so maybe she added a little breathless quality to her voice. Some habits are hard to break, alright?

"No."

"Well, don't worry. You're very cute, but you and Edelgard are safe from my many charms."

Sighing, Lysithea checked her watch, which was turned inwards to her wrist. "You have three minutes. Don't waste them."

"Right. To business, then." Hilda squared her shoulders, and cleared her throat. Her voice dropped another note or two, until it more closely resembled comfortable, unaffected speaking range. Also so that other people couldn't overhear. "You know the new girl? In Demeter Cabin?"

"I know of her," Lysithea replied. She crossed her arms, already tapping her fingers.

"Doesn't it seem strange? That she's in Demeter Cabin, I mean. She's not like any other Demeter kid I've ever met before."

"Not everything about the gods and their half-mortal children are as they seem to be," Lysithea said. "You, yourself, for instance seem the epitome of any child of Aphrodite, but people would be foolish to assume you are without cunning."

"Aww, I thought you said no flirting?" Hilda made sure her grin had a flash of dimples.

At that, Lysithea's cheeks flushed a light shade of pink, but her glare could cut glass. "Unless you want me to hex you three ways to Sunday, I suggest you continue with your line of questioning. Promptly."

“Geesh! You’re no fun!” Hilda made a face, sticking out her tongue. “Okay. Forreal, though, after that whole earthquake thing, I saw her talking to an owl, and I thought she might be, y'know, inclined towards your family.”

“That’s it? An owl?”

“Well, she can also use weird magic, too! Like you!”

Lysithea rolled her eyes. “Yes, because there is no variation of the skills within my half-siblings, whatsoever.”

“Listen,” Hilda used her very best brook-no-nonsense tone, which was very no-nonsense-brooking to be honest. “She was talking with an owl. And I just want some answers. Don’t you want to know, too? I know you know that something’s weird here. And I know you know that I know that you like knowing things.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Lysithea sighed. “Not all gods have sacred birds. Obviously some of them do. But also some of them have very similar sacred birds. Hestia and Dionysus, for example, with the turtle-dove and dove respectively.”

“Yeah. Okay. But -”

Before Hilda could continue to pepper her with questions, Lysithea interrupted, “Are you sure she was actually talking to the owl?”

Hilda bristled. “I know what I saw!”

“I’m just offering up potential solutions to your problem. Maybe she was just talking to herself, and the owl happened to be there.”

“Both times? When I saw it, and when Raphael saw it?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you think that’s too much of a coincidence?”

“No.”

“Not even just a teensy little bit?” Hilda held up her thumb and forefinger a hair’s breadth apart.

The muscles of Lysithea’s jaw bunched up. “No. Now, unless you have anymore questions -”

“Well actually, I’m so glad you said that, because this paper Manuela gave us on the transformation of demigods into mythological Heroes is really tough, and I was hoping you’d explain to me how the god parent in question chooses their heirs to become -”

“Great. Bye.” Lysithea turned on her heel and stalked off before Hilda could squeeze another word in edgewise.

“Hey! Wait!! Lysithea!” Hilda let her hand drop when it became imminently clear that Lysithea was not going to turn back around under any circumstances, short of a portal to Hell rupturing the earth in twain. Which was a shame, really. Hilda was actually curious about the answer to that question.

Sighing, Hilda shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts, and blinked in surprise. There was a piece of paper rustling against her fingertips. She pulled it out, curious as to what she had left in her pocket -- she didn't recall leaving anything in there. When she pulled it out and unfolded it however, she made a noise of exasperation.

Claude's cramped handwriting read: 'find out more about our mystery girl. ps - give the Poseidon thing a chance. you know I'm right.'

Hilda threw the piece of paper towards the lake. It fluttered in the breeze, and landed against her shin. In a fit of frustration, she picked it up, crumpled it into a ball, and then chucked it again. This time it very satisfyingly landed into the lake, and sank beneath the surface of the water.

When had he even managed to sneak that note into her pocket? It must've happened when they spoke this morning before breakfast. Bastard.

Not that Claude didn't have a point. Poseidon did seem to be a good bet. Something about the idea didn't sit quite right in Hilda's mind, though. Then again, she had never met a child of one of the Big Three gods. So, maybe Claude's theory had merit.

Midway through the week however, it became more and more evident that the last thing Marianne needed was scrutiny. She needed socialisation. At the very least she needed a hug. Though, Hilda was ninety-seven percent sure that Marianne would sooner crawl out of her own skin than let someone give her a hug.

As usual, the two of them were forced to team together for chores throughout the week. On top of that, this week was all about paired activities. About having a buddy, and doing lessons and things with them. Things like: climbing a hundred foot wall in less than two minutes while your partner belayed for you, and canoeing in paired races across the lake, and sparring until either a) their muscles turned to mush, or b) first blood.

You know. Good wholesome camp stuff.

The first day’s activity Hilda was sure they would win. She knew for a fact that some of the Athena and Ares kids had a deadly fear of heights, but Ingrid took the cake in that exercise, beating the rest of them by a good fifteen feet. The second day’s activity they also lost, which meant that Claude's Poseidon theory was looking thin. Hilda made silent faces at Claude across the beach until he shook his head and mimed a response at her.

And the activity on the third day ended with Hilda moaning about being too delicate for this kind of strenuous exercise in the middle of the afternoon. It didn't matter that Marianne kept losing their sparring match on purpose, or that there was still a jagged patch of grey rock in the ground where the arena had been repaired earlier in the week.

By the middle of the sparring lesson, Hilda leaned against her axe, and frowned. "Are you even trying?"

Marianne held her Celestial bronze sword loosely in one hand. Her form was atrocious, but in a way that belied an underlying understanding of swordsmanship itself. Only someone well-trained in the art could do something that terrible. It had to be on purpose.

"What do you mean?"

With one hand, Hilda pushed her sweaty bangs out of her face. "Well, you obviously know how to use that," she said, pointing towards the sword. "But you pretend that you don't. Are you trying to make me feel better by letting me win, or something?"

"No," Marianne mumbled.

"Because, trust me, my ego can take it. It's totally fine."

Marianne's fingers tightened into a fist around the sword hilt. "I never doubted that."

"So, what's the big deal?"

"You underestimate yourself," Marianne said. "You're very strong."

"Thanks. I know. Which is why you shouldn't feel like you need to hold back so much." Hilda lowered her voice slightly. "Didn't we talk about this in the woods the other day? I told you, I'm not made of glass. None of us here are. You're among people like you now, remember?"

Still, Marianne dropped her eyes and refused to meet Hilda's gaze. She nodded in silence, but said nothing.

Hilda hefted her axe to her shoulder, shrugging against the weight as though the heavy Celestial bronze were as light as paper. "Well, come on, then. Hit me with your best shot." She said it in a sing-song tone, and bent her knees slightly as though in anticipation for a blow.

Marianne swallowed nervously. "I don't -" she started to say, but stopped. Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip, before she continued, "I don't like hurting people."

"Who said I was going to get hurt, huh?"

After a long pause, Marianne lifted her sword once more. It was a half-hearted attempt at coming en garde, but at least her form was correct this time. Hilda used the flat of her axe to swat Marianne's sword aside. It did not fall from Marianne's hand, but it did leave her wide open for an attack.

Hilda advanced a step forward, forcing Marianne to take a step back in order to keep distance. "Don't be like that. Hit me back. Make me work for it."

Rather than raise her sword, Marianne continued to retreat while Hilda walked towards her. "I thought you didn't like to work."

"Yeah, but there's something about you that makes me think putting in the effort isn't so bad."

Marianne blinked. "Why?"

"I don't know. It's weird. You’re weird. I kind of like it." Hilda shrugged, and swung her axe again.

With movements sinuous as a shadow's Marianne slipped out of Hilda's range, easily dodging the blow. Her sword still hung at her side, held loosely in her hand. They were starting to circle around the other pairs of sparring partners now, moving to avoid anyone. Hilda darted forward, swiping at Marianne with her axe, attack after slashing attack, all of which met nothing but air.

"You know," Hilda said, "Not all confrontation is bad. Sometimes sucking it up, and facing someone down really does make life materially better.”

“I think you and I have had very different life experiences,” said Marianne.

After basically chasing Marianne all the way around the area twice, Hilda could feel the sweat beginning to collect dust and grime from the arena. In stark contrast, Marianne hardly looked like she had done anything more than take a leisurely stroll. Her dark eyes were steady and unblinking, reading Hilda’s every movement with the familiarity of someone who had seen years of combat training.

They had amassed a bit of a crowd. Some of the other campers had stopped their own sparring to watch. Hilda continued to chat casually, even as she swung her axe at Marianne, knowing that her attack would be dodged yet again.

"Have you considered a haircut?"

Marianne stepped to the side, and circled around Hilda, forcing her to flail her axe in a broad horizontal sweep for the follow up attack. "No. Why?"

"No reason. I just think it would look good on you, is all."

"I like my hair long."

"That's fine. You can keep it long. I'm just thinking a trim. Your bangs are hiding your eyes. Bangs are supposed to be a framing device for your face! Not hide it!"

With a thoughtful hum, Marianne actually parried with her blade, but did not counter attack. "I'm not sure."

"I can show you later, if you want?" Hilda offered, while bringing her axe down so hard it buried itself into the arena floor. She had to tug it free with a grunt. "I think you'd look really cute."

"Oh. Well, I don't know about that." Marianne dodged the attempt at flattery with as much skill as she dodged everything else.

"Do I look like I don't know what I'm talking about?"

"No. I think you look very stylish."

"Exactly. Which is why you should totally let me give you a makeover one of these days."

"Hmm," said Marianne dubiously.

"That wasn't a 'no'," Hilda pointed out. She shortened her grip upon her axe to make smaller more controlled movements with it, none of which connected. "Tell you what. Let's play a game. If I can land a hit, then I give you a makeover. And if you disarm me, then you can -- I don't know -- push me into the lake."

"I don't want to push you into the lake."

"Then, what do you want?"

For a moment Marianne mulled that over. She tapped the flat of her sword against her thigh. "Sorbet."

Hilda grinned. "Deal!"

Marianne nodded, and agreed in a far softer tone, "Deal."

This time, when Hilda swung her axe, she feinted. She twisted her shoulders one direction, then changed her footing at the last second so she could bring her axe down to exactly where Marianne had moved. Except this time, Marianne's sword arced up in a gleam of bronze, expertly guided into the groove between axe and handle, so that when Marianne flicked her wrist with a twist, it wrenched the axe handle from Hilda's hands.

Or at least, it would have, had Hilda not hung on to the axe for dear life.

Eyes wide in surprise, Hilda stumbled forward. Faster than even the semi-immortal eye could follow, Marianne reached forward with her spare hand, grabbed the long-handled hilt of the axe above Hilda's own grip, and yanked. At the same time, she delicately planted her foot into the middle of Hilda's chest, and pushed.

The next thing Hilda knew, the air had been knocked out of her, and she was flat on her back.

A dark shape blotted out the sun, and for a moment it seemed that the shadow Marianne cast while standing over her extended across all the earth. She blocked the sun like the moon during an eclipse. It hurt to look at her.

Then Hilda blinked, and the moment passed.

“Sorry,” Marianne said.

She extended her hand in a silent offer. It was the reverse of last week, when Hilda had helped her to her feet. Without thinking, Hilda reached out and grabbed hold of Marianne’s hand, allowing herself to be hauled upright. A few people were clapping and laughing on the sidelines.

“Are you alright?” asked Marianne. Her hand lingered for a second -- as frightfully cold as it had been the last time they had touched -- before she snatched it away.

Hilda smiled. She brushed a hand down the front of her own clothes as if wicking off a bit of water, and in a flurry of magic all of the dirt and sweat melted from her, leaving her as clean and fresh as though she had stepped from a shower not five minutes ago.

"Never been better.” She bent down to pick up her axe from the ground, transforming it back into a pair of sunglasses, which she perched atop her nose to complete the look. “Looks like I owe you an ice cream. Or sorbet. Same difference. Want to leave early, and get some now?”

Marianne stared at her. "Was that -" she asked slowly, "- your plan all along? To leave early?"

"Why, are you accusing me of something, Miss Marianne?" Hilda gasped, feigning offence. Then, she lowered her sunglasses just enough to wink over them. "So. Sorbet?"

The corner of Marianne's mouth twitched, but that may have just been a trick of the light. “Yeah. Okay.”

If there was one single class that Hilda hated most, it was flying class. The act of flying itself wasn't a problem. In fact, she rather liked it. Especially as a means of convenient transport. Like airplanes. Or helicopters. Or maybe hot air balloons, but those were on thin fucking ice.

Riding a pegasus, though? No thank you. She would rather wear gumboots and flannel to the Met Gala.

When Hilda tried to slip away from the class however, she was cornered by Seteth, who was -- unfortunately -- the teacher for that day's lesson.

"Going somewhere?"

Hilda froze. She pretended to cough, and turned around, trying to look as haggard as possible. "Oh, Seteth. I'm so glad you asked. I just feel absolutely awful today. I really should sleep this bug off."

Seteth's ageless eyes never left her face. His expression remained fixed and stern, but in a way that somehow made it seem that he was an instant away from a knowing smirk. Like he could see right through her lies. Which, annoyingly, he probably could.

Damn Titans. Damn pegasi. Damn flying class.

"Now, that is a shame," Seteth said. "Seeing as how, as far as we know, you are the only one Marianne is comfortable touching."

Hilda blinked. "I - uh -? I guess? And also I really don't see how that is relevant."

"Allow me to explain. We are pairing off in today's class, and training for aerial battle manoeuvres." He cocked his head to one side. "Seeing as it would be inhospitable to leave Marianne on the ground while everyone else participated, I was hoping you would do us the kindness of being her partner for this exercise."

"Oh. Well. That's - " Hilda floundered. But before she could even fumble out an excuse, Seteth continued speaking.

"No matter. If you say you are ill, then you are ill."

Surprised and simultaneously suspicious, Hilda said slowly, "Yes."

"Which is why I must ask Mercedes to heal you. To ensure you are in top shape, of course."

At that, Hilda grimaced. Healing magic when you were actually sick or injured was all fine and dandy. But when you weren't actually sick or injured, it felt -- well, bad, to be perfectly honest. Not that it hurt, so to speak. Just that it felt like someone shoving a tube where it didn't belong in the search for whatever it was that acted as the source of your illness.

"That won't be necessary -" Hilda tried to say, but Seteth was already turning to wave Mercedes over. In horror, she watched as Mercedes joined them with a concerned look on her face.

"Mercedes," Seteth said. "Hilda isn't feeling so well, and I was hoping you might assist us, as I do wish for her to partake in today's activities."

"Of course!" Mercedes replied, as cheerful as ever to be helpful in any way.

With a groan, Hilda allowed her face to be grasped between Mercedes' hands, and her vision was filled with white light. After a very uncomfortable moment, in which Hilda felt like a swarm of flies were crawling beneath her skin, Mercedes let her go.

Smiling, Mercedes said, "There. Good as new."

"Gee. Thanks." Hilda had to swallow past the magically induced cotton-mouth.

Mercedes turned to Seteth. "Is there anything else you need?"

"No. Thank you," Seteth said, looking every inch the smug bastard Titan that he was. He wasn't even trying to hide the little smile now. "That will be all."

Mercedes ducked her head in a nod, then trotted back over to the red-haired Athena girl, Annette, and the roan pegasus mare they were going to be riding together. Meanwhile, Seteth continued to watch Hilda. He gestured towards the line of yet unclaimed pegasi. "If you would be so kind."

Grumbling under her breath, Hilda stomped over to where he indicated. Marianne stood apart from the others. Most of the camp members had given up trying to interact with her after a few weeks of being met with awkward silences and constant apologies. When Hilda approached however, Marianne's head lifted.

"Hi," she greeted with a little wave of her hand. "I thought you said you weren't feeling well?"

Hilda sighed, dragging a hand down her face. "Yeah. Well, Mercedes fixed me up, so now I'm back."

"Oh, good. I'm glad."

"Glad? Really?"

Marianne was wringing her hands together, and darting nervous glances at the other campers. "Well, I - one of the other campers came up to me and asked me to be his partner, and I was afraid Seteth would make me do it."

"Would that be so bad?"

Marianne refused to offer any further explanation.

"Who asked you?" Hilda asked.

Marianne pointed, and Hilda followed where she indicated. Claude. Of course it was Claude. He saw them looking in his direction. He smiled and waved.

"He's not so bad," Hilda assured her.

"I'm sure he isn't. He seemed very nice, in fact."

"And?"

"And -" Marianne continued at Hilda's urging. "- I don't like spending too much time around people."

Hilda sighed. "I see we're still not past that. Ah, well. Baby steps."

"What?"

"Nothing. Nevermind." Hilda looked down the line of pegasi, who were idly grazing while waiting to be approached by an assigned pair. "C'mon. The sooner we get this over with, the better."

"Alright."

Students were being herded towards the pegasi by Seteth and his daughter, Flayn. Pairs of campers had being to approach a pegasus, and some of the more animal-inclined members were already mounting. Hilda straightened her pink-lensed sunglasses upon her nose, and perused the quickly diminishing selection.

Minty was unmistakable, with his ivory pale coat and black legs. Hilda made a beeline away from him. There was no way she was going to be saddled with that asshole. Before she could approach the nearest pegasus however, another pair swooped in beside it.

"Hey!" Hilda said in outrage. "Find your own pegasus!"

Both Edelgard, the head of Athena cabin, and Lysithea gave her reproachful looks that were near identical. Followed by Lysithea saying, "I thought that was your pegasus."

She pointed at Minty.

Hilda scrunched up her nose. "Ew! No way! What would give you that impression?"

"Because you are often seen talking to him at the stables?" Edelgard answered, as though that were obvious.

"Yeah. Sure, but that doesn't mean he's mine."

Edelgard and Lysithea shared a look, then a shrug. "If you say so," said Lysithea.

"I just did!"

Behind her, Marianne cleared her throat softly. "Um -? Hilda?"

Hilda turned. "What's up?"

"I think all of the other pegasi have already been taken."

Hilda looked around. Sure enough, Marianne was right. Swearing loudly, Hilda closed her eyes and tilted her head back to the sky. "Why me?" she groaned.

"I'm sorry -"

"No, not you, Marianne." Hilda let out a long frustrated exhalation. Then, squaring her shoulders, she marched over to Minty, with Marianne drifting in her wake like a shadow.

"Hey!" Hilda called out. "Future Glue!"

Two black-tipped ears swivelled at the sound of Hilda's voice, and Minty lifted his head. He was still chewing on a tuft of grass, when his voice filled their heads. "Well, if it isn't my old nemesis, What's-Her-Face. And -" Minty's nostrils flared. "- Carrot Girl."

Coming to a halt before him, Hilda rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. We all have a mutual loathing of one another. What's new?"

"I don't hate you," Marianne said from beside Hilda.

"That's nice," Minty replied. "But you didn't bring carrots this time."

"Uhm, no. Sorry."

He snorted, then lowered his head to keep eating, utterly disinterested in their presence.

"Let me handle this," Hilda said to Marianne, then rounded on the pegasus. "Now, listen up. None of us want to be here. But we have to be, or else that guy -" she jerked a thumb over her shoulder towards where Seteth was helping a frantic-looking Hubert onto the back of a pegasus "- will get mad. So, unless you want to buy a one-way ticket to Horse Hell, or whatever, I suggest you cooperate for the next hour or two. Got it?"

The pegasus swished his dark glossy tail, and at the same time stomped one of his back hooves. After a long moment of grass-chewing and contemplation, Minty finally said, "Fine. Get on."

Well, that was easier than anticipated. Hilda didn't even have to wheedle, which was a shame, really. She felt like her wheedling skills were starting to get a bit rusty, and it was always good to practice on something that was immune to charmspeak.

Hilda held out her hand in a gesture for Marianne to go first. Partly because she was trying to be nice. But mostly because she didn't want to be the one in control of a sentient magical animal. That sounded like way too much responsibility. She'd rather let someone else take the reins.

Not that there were actual reins. Pegasi didn't take very kindly to that kind of thing. They preferred their communication to come in the form of verbal or psychic. Or rude gestures. It really depended on what the situation called for.

Hilda had expected to need to help Marianne up, but Marianne lifted herself atop the pegasus' back with a sudden surge of grace. She shifted slightly once on his back, tugging at her track pants a bit. She still wore Hilda’s ill-fitting clothes; Hilda would have to call up her brother to see what was taking him so long to send new clothes.

At the added weight, Minty shuffled his wings, but otherwise remained still. He continued to eat. On the other hand, Hilda tried to haul herself into place twice before giving up. Being short and trying to mount a big horse creature was the bane of her existence. Marianne extended her hand, and pulled at Hilda's wrist, and Hilda nearly went careening over Minty's back onto the other side. She barely stopped herself, but only by grabbing onto Marianne's shoulders.

Immediately, Marianne stiffened. Which meant Hilda stiffened, and jerked her hands away as if burned. "Sorry."

"It's alright," Marianne mumbled, but she kept her head ducked, and her eyes firmly fixed on the way her fists were clenched around great handfuls of Minty's dark mane.

"Is it okay if I -?" Hilda held out her hands, but did not touch Marianne's waist.

A moment of hesitation before Marianne nodded. Even so, Hilda did not immediately touch her.

From the direction of the stables, Seteth's voice rang out. "Campers, you should now all have mounted your pegasi. I want you to do a lap to the dining pavilion and back, before getting into your pre-determined aerial formations over the lake."

He droned on and on with instructions. Hilda made a miming gesture with her hand that mimicked his incessant talking. Peeking over her shoulder, Marianne saw, and made a funny noise at the back of her throat, before quickly turning back around.

"Don't fly over the forest," Seteth finished with the usual warnings. "And be back in no later than two hours. If you should need assistance, I will be riding behind you. Now, go."

The literal second he said 'go', Minty spread his wings. Previously Hilda had not properly admired the true breadth of his wingspan. He had always kept them neatly tucked up against his flank every time she had encountered him in the past. Now, seated atop his back, his wings spread a good fifteen feet in either direction, and all of a sudden Hilda felt quite small.

When he lifted his head, and then reared up on his hind legs, Hilda wrapped her arms around Marianne's waist with a yelp.

"Is that really necessary?" Hilda asked.

He did not answer. Instead, he charged forward to get a running start, and then his wings swept downwards. With a mighty gust, they were airborne. Air rushed past them as they gained altitude with every downward stroke of Minty's wings.

Hilda kept her eyes squeezed shut. Her hands firmly grasped each other around Marianne's narrow waist, and she had the side of her face pressed against Marianne's back. She could feel the tense of muscle against her cheek, but Marianne did not try to shuffle away or tell her to stop.

It wasn't until they started to travel in a horizontal line again that Hilda dared to open her eyes and lift her head. She nudged the side of her face against Marianne’s shoulder to straighten her sunglasses. They were midway along the pack of other campers, with more than enough room to spare between each pegasus. Hilda relaxed a bit, letting loose a breath she had been holding since they took off.

"You don't like flying," Marianne commented, and it was not a question.

"Not really, no," Hilda said. She looked down at the ground, and admired the view far below. "I mean, I like the act of flying itself. Heights aren’t a problem. If I were flying a plane, it would be totally fine. Or a creature that wasn't, you know, sentient. I just don't trust that a pegasus won't do something dumb just for the hell of it."

"Minty wouldn't do that," Marianne assured her.

"Yes, I would," said Minty.

Hilda pointed at his tufted ears, which were angled back so he could eavesdrop. "Mind your business, asshole."

"You're on my back. You are my business."

"Whatever."

They didn't even make it back from the pavilion for the first lap. As they flew over the lake, Minty glided downwards, drifting far below the other pegasi until they were just a meter or so above the water.

"Hey, uh -" Hilda said, peering up at the other paired groups far overhead. "Why are we flying so low all of a sudden? Not that I don't appreciate standing out from the crowd, but -"

Minty did not answer. Instead, he just kicked his back legs. Hard. Hilda, who had loosened her grip around Marianne's waist, was jostled so forcefully that she didn't have time to even scramble for a better hold. She just fell right off his back and into the water.

Hitting the lake was a cold shock. Hilda struck out at the water, and swam furiously back to the surface. She gasped for air, treading water. Her sunglasses had been dislodged, and she could see the faint glimmer of them sinking into the clear blue of the water below her.

Glowering at Minty, who was flapping his wings to hover in place over her, Hilda spat against the water lapping at her chin. "Oh, you're going to pay for that. Look at my hair! And my clothes! And you made me lose my axe! Do you know how much time I spent making -?"

Minty flapped his wings in such a way that the very tip of his longest flight feathers skimmed the surface of the water, and splashed her in the face.

"You -!" Hilda spluttered. "Asshole!"

She tried to splash him back, but missed wildly. He was too high up to reach. On the pegasus' back, Marianne was covering her mouth with one hand. She was holding back an odd, strangled noise. When it escaped from behind her hand, she quickly turned her head aside to hide her face.

She was, Hilda finally realised, laughing at her.

"Oh you think this is funny, do you?" Hilda asked.

It took Marianne a second to compose herself, and even then her answer sounded strained. "No. It's -” Marianne bit her lower lip, and her voice wobbled suspiciously. “It's terrible. What an awful thing to have happened."

"Uh-huh.” Hilda nodded at the pegasus, and said, “Minty, dump her.”

“What -?” said Marianne.

If a pegasus could grin, then surely Minty was grinning right now. He dropped his back legs, and gave a single strong flap of his wings. Eyes wide, Marianne scrambled at his mane, but couldn’t hold on. She slowly slipped down his back, and plunged into the water a few meters away from Hilda.

Marianne’s head emerged from the water with a gasp. Her hair was plastered to the side of her face, the messy bun beginning to unfurl from its braid at the base of her neck. Hilda lifted a hand, and splashed her. Marianne sputtered. She tread water with the clumsiness of someone well and truly unaccustomed to swimming. Hilda smirked in triumph at the look of absolute shock on Marianne’s face.

“Now who’s laughing? Huh, punk?” Hilda said.

Some indescribable expression crossed Marianne’s face. Hilda watched her go on a face journey -- bewilderment, irritation, amusement -- before landing finally on resolve. It was the most expressive Hilda had ever seen her. And it took Hilda utterly by surprise when Marianne actually splashed her back.

“Oh, it is so on.”

Hilda put a bit more force behind her next splash, spraying a broad stream of lake water right at Marianne’s head. Marianne’s high pitched squeak was well worth another faceful of water pushed back at her. Minty continued to hover and watch their fight until, with Marianne’s help, Hilda managed to grab hold of one hairy pastern and drag him half into the lake. He floundered like a cat in water, flapping wildly until he was in the air once more. But by that point Hilda was laughing so hard she inhaled water and started to cough, while Marianne patted her on the back.

When they finally made it back to shore, they were panting slightly. Marianne clambered onto the beach and sprawled on her back, with Hilda doing the same beside her.

Breathing heavily, Hilda said towards the sky, “I told you I would take you swimming in the lake.”

Marianne laughed aloud, then quickly covered her mouth with her hands to stifle the noise. Her eyes were still crinkled at the edges. The sight hit Hilda like a blow to the chest. Or maybe that was just heat of the sun beating down on them high overhead.

She looked away, and tried not to think about it too hard.

The shadow of a pegasus drifted along the ground nearby, as Seteth landed on the beach. He dismounted, and walked over to them. Arms crossed, he tilted his head. “While I am glad to see you two having such a good time, I am hard pressed to condone skipping a lesson.”

Hilda pointed towards Minty, who had landed further along, and was shaking himself off like a dog. “It’s all his fault, Your Honour. I swear it.”

“Please, do not refer to me as such. That is a very particular title reserved for other deities far outside my jurisdiction.”

In response, Hilda lowered her hand so that it was a half-hearted salute by her head. “Understood, my lord.”

Marianne made that strangled sound again. Her hand was clapped over her mouth, and her shoulders were shaking.

With a sigh, Seteth shook his head. After they received a thoroughly tepid scolding -- which was just enough time for them to start to dry off beneath the noonday sun -- Seteth urged them back into the air to finish the lesson. Before that however, he had a few whispered words with Minty, which neither of them could overhear. Whatever he said must’ve worked though, because the pegasus behaved for the remaining hour or so.

It wasn’t until they were back at the stables that Marianne’s usual sombre air returned. It was incredibly out of place with her rumpled clothes, and the coils of hair that had slipped from their trappings and curled gently at the nape of her neck. Still, her dark eyes were warm when she offered Hilda a little wave of goodbye as they parted ways for the day.

Hilda waved back, “See you tomorrow!”

Her hand was still held halfway in the air as she watched Marianne walk off towards the cabins.

When someone clapped Hilda on the back, she nearly leapt out of her skin. Claude came up from behind, and draped his arm around her shoulders so they could watch Marianne glide away together.

“Good trick with the water,” he said, and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Now, we can cross Poseidon off our list.”

“Right,” she replied without any real feeling. Not once did she take her eyes off Marianne’s retreating form. “Yeah, I totally meant to do that.”

Hilda half expected Marianne to turn back, to steal a glance over her shoulder. She didn’t.

#marianne von edmund #hilda valentine goneril #hilda/marianne #marihilda #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #roman writes

69 notes · View notes