#and how intricate their crowns are XDD

[worldofomniaa]

Throwback Thursday to that time in 2016 when I drew a portrait series of Omniaa’s gods and goddesses for the first time EXCEPT ONE GOSHDAMMIT.

Whelp thank goodness for my recent prophet series loll But still! I wish I’d finished that last portrait siiigh It’s supposed to be Cadran; I remember not knowing what to do for his pose, plus I wasn’t sure about his design, so I gave up ^^;;;

In order, they are: Xanor, Mariphena, Thalinos, Esmenaa, Jevere, Fenorea, Syrinen, Lanone, cADraN, and Valienne.

[elane-in-the-shadows]

Red Queen Fan Fiction - Blood Curse part 9

Find this on wattpad

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

chapter 13

chapter 14

chapter 15

chapter 16

chapter 17

chapter 18

chapter 19

chapter 20

chapter 21

chapter 22

chapter 23

chapter 24

chapter 25

chapter 26

chapter 27

chapter 28

chapter 29

Final chapter

A/N: The chapter in which nothing happens XDD Only plotwise, that is. This chapter goes emo.

Mare POV

I don’t need to look up to mark the moment the cameras are turned off. Instead I close my eyes, breathing in and out. I have to banish the lies and pretends out of me. What a dream we told the audience about, if only it was true. But that would make Tiberias a king and I still can’t bear to see that happen.

I’ve fallen behind. Farley, Tiberias, Davidson and Evangeline build a little group on the stage and discuss. It’s amazing how honest Farley and Davidson sound, and I wonder if their plans will change. It was Davidson’s idea to pitch the nobles against one another, yet I still hardly know him. If he obtains what he wants, he might found another alliance and discard those not following. I shake my head which catches Tiberias’s attention and our eyes meet. He turns to me, seeming worried, and for a moment, I want to give in. But just for a moment. I straighten myself and leave the stage.

Trusting them is only a dream, and Tiberias won’t be a good king. He can’t even listen for a few minutes without getting distracted – by me. If he wishes to change the world, he has a long way to go.

I’ve gathered more than a dozen books by now; and three of them are on the bed with me. Corvium is full of cast-off clutter, be it books or clothes or weapons. I couldn’t afford much reading in the Stilts, but since I dropped into Queenstrial, I’ve begun to enjoy it. Books are calming, books offer information I crave. I’m not naive enough to believe all of their messages but they’re everything I have. No wonder Julian adores them. Even if books lied, they didn’t choose me as their victim of deceit.

There’s a knock on my door and I bid my visitor in. I greet Farley when she enters but I notice she’s as reluctant and careful as usual when she’s around me, and I’m uncertain if I’m glad or angry about it.

She sits down on the edge of my bed. “I’ll leave tomorrow,” she tells me. “Some Guard soldiers are to go to the Piedmont base and I’ll accompany them.”

“Ah,” I reply, putting my lecture away and waiting for more.

She smiles. “It’s about time. The Silvers are leaving too, while the Samos princeling will remain here, ‘to rule’, and well.” She shrugs.

“You can’t bear to work with him,” I add in her stead and she inclines her head. Suddenly, she grabs a pillow of mine and pulls it close.

“I don’t know how I let so much time pass here. Almost a month.” She snorts. “A month since I saw Clara.”

“Farley – “

“I want to have her with me again. I feel almost guilty. However important this – “ she glances around the room, “ – is, when I work for the Guard, I have to rely on other people anyways. I can delegate. But Clara has no other … parent, and I want to be hers. More than anything, but …” she trails off suddenly.

I move closer to lean against her. “Don’t…” I begin, “… I mean, you do your best. But I know Mom worries about you, and I do too. You can’t do everything by yourself, so don’t overwork yourself, okay?” I improvise, though apparently, I said it right.

“Compromising, huh?” Farley sums it up. She sighs. “Sometimes I think I wouldn’t have these problems if I had Shade at my side. None. Everything would be perfect, even the progresses in the war.”

My brother’s name pierces my heart after all. I go still as Farley mumbles, “how easily we idealize people we love.” She hugs me.

“Will you come with me tomorrow?” she asks and for some reason, I stiffen further. “You don’t have to,” she continues, “you can stay, or go with someone else – “

“Don’t manipulate me.”

She lets go of me. “That wasn’t my intent-”

“Really?” I sneer.

Her gaze is unwavering, unavoidable. “If you think I do, my intention doesn’t matter,” she concedes. “I’m sorry. It’s your decision. Rafe, Sara and Cameron will come with me, Ella and Tyton will stay until they’re needed elsewhere. And if you want to return later on, there’ll be other chances, I’m making sure of it.”

I expect her to leave but she hesitates and brushes my shoulder. “Thanks for listening to me,” she says. You know you can come to me if you need anything.”

"I’m aware,” I answer. My face feels stony, yet I bring myself to smile. “I’d wish you a good journey, but why should I when I’m coming with you? I can’t wait to see my family either.”

She smiles back, although her worry lingers. “The plane leaves at 6 am,” she informs me.

Packing the things I‘ve collected here isn’t what stops me from sleeping. I’m not half as sure about leaving as I pretended to be, and I know the reason. I’ve talked with other Newbloods and soldiers from Piedmont to learn whether they’d go or stay, but I avoided one person and I know I can’t go without meeting him once more.

It’s after midnight when I walk the corridors of the tower like a ghost, slow, unseen, and procrastinating what I desire to do. Yet I find his rooms despite never having been there before. Light emanates from under the door, and I hear and smell a fire in his chimney. I wonder if those were built especially for the Calore apartments, then about why there aren’t watchmen to see here. Likely Tiberias thinks he doesn’t need them, or doesn’t want them. I can relate to both, though I can’t imagine to trust his new allies as much, if I was in his place – do the Samos see him as irreplaceable as Anabel does? After all I experienced with Evangeline –

I hear steps from inside and I force myself not to run away when the door opens. It’s him, and he looks more shocked than when hit by lightning. I don’t want to know his thoughts about my presence, thus I enter his room by pushing him aside, walking to his cluttered desk, full of maps and notes.

“I’m developing possible strategies,” he says behind me. He’s followed me back in, and when I turn my head, I’m startled by his closeness. Visibly. He notices, smiles and, thank his colours, he doesn’t do more than that. I go away a step and drop into his chair. It’s comely piece of furniture, old and used but comfortable, intricately manufactured and well-tended.  It’s typically him. If I looked around his room, would I see more of his personality reflected here? Yet the idea is soon replaced by the sour tang of the advantages he’s allowed, even urged, to enjoy as a royal Silver. I should act on it and leave, but that wouldn’t erase the reason I came for. To say farewell, I remind myself.

Before I can do this, he bends over the desk from the other side. “Archeon can be attacked, as we saw already,” he explains, assuming I want to talk about his maps, or just glad to speak with me at all. “But that would’ve mostly symbolic meaning,” he goes on, “and even that lessens with each new try. The ruling council can still escape, and their routes are changed now, as you’ve told us. And our court spies …” he lets the words hang in the air, maybe doubting if the twin Newbloods with Maven are still “ours”.

Tiberias clears his throat. “However, that might be for the better. If anything happened to Princess Iris as well, the war with the Lakelands might start anew.” He looks at me, finally, expecting me to have an opinion on this, and I have many. Does he still search for ways to spare Maven? Does he really believe the Cygnets would start a war over dead royals, as if the war hasn’t been only a ruse for a century? And what if Monfort wants this, the Calores and Cygnets destroying each other, despite the lives taken as collateral damage?

I don’t mention any of this and merely return his gaze, trying to find out if he’s again becoming the prince I met a year ago. We’re so close, our hands just a centimeter apart from touching, until he bridges the distance. Just the faint touch of his fingers tingles in my hand, then these sparks move upwards. I swallow.

“When will those plans be put into use?” I ask, to break the silence, to dissemble.

He tilts his head, surprised but not reacting to the short moment of arousal which I’m sure has shown on my face. “Maybe never,” replies he, and this confuses me.

“Excuse me?”

He laughs joylessly. “My council can’t decide who to attack first. Every one of the Steelfire Alliance insists on their opinion, on securing their personal vendettas and profit …”

I bit at my lip for the stupid name, and because Tiberias doesn’t realize he has to make a decision for them if he wants to be king. Then I think it’s for the better if he hesitates to embrace the role, so he might abandon the crown after all. Or it only means he’ll continue as before, never trying to change Norta because he’s unable to believe in reforms to begin with –

He’s focused on me, full of interest while not understanding me at all and I want to scream.

Instead I cup his head in my hands and kiss him. He joins in, stunned but rejoicing and I notice his yearning when I pull away a little, to switch from lips to neck, to murmur, “you idiot”, or, “how could you”. But I don’t stop, granting myself the pleasure and the power I have over him, for now. Although this is merely an illusion, no matter how hard he kisses me, how demanding his hands are as they scout my body, and no matter how the heat rises around him, I’m not enough to divert him from his throne, nor do I want to be. He’s the one who should’ve learned.

I break the kiss, leaving both of us panting, him flushed with a pale sheen of Silver and me pink and ruddy.

“Mare,” he whispers, taking me in, happily disbelieving what’s happening. Then his excitement wavers, and I guess which sight upsets him. I fumble in my pocket for the ear stud he gave me and hold it up between us. His unease becomes more apparent, confirming me I assumed right.

“Have I told you how my brothers gave me earring when they were conscripted?” I say, aware I already did. But I pretend otherwise and continue. “I’ve come to inform you that I’m going away as well, so I want to give you this.”

Tiberias squints his eyes. “Will you take it?” I inquire and he nods decidedly.

“Yes.” He leans further over the desk and I sit down on top of it while I prepare to pierce his ear. I delay the act, enjoying every second, like he does.

“It might hurt for a few days,” I state, calmer than I feel. “And I doubt a skinhealer could help with that.”

“Oh, that’s okay, I’m not – ow!”  

His gasp lures a faint chuckle out of me. The hands that pierced his ear now linger on his cheeks and for the last time, I make a memory of his simmering bronze eyes. But I pull away the moment I feel a touch against my fingers; it’s Tiberias checking on his sore ear. “Don’t touch it too much,” I chastise him, softly. I shake my head.

“Good night,” I say, “fare well.” I slide off the desk, stumble over his chair and dash out of his room and along the corridors.

Nothing about last night was a good idea. I slept only in short intervals and had to get up just three hours after I laid down. Of course, that’s not the main problem, even though it’s easy to pretend it is to the other passengers on the plane. Tiredness and headaches are welcome excuses when Cameron wonders why I make an especially poor move in the same game of cards we played on the way to Corvium. The play only wakes memories of that trip, and how different everything was between Tiberias and me, lest I forget last night and how it showed me what could be.

I don’t want this. And despite my lack of concentration, I play on until Cameron has to think I act uncannily. Though there’s neither a storm outside nor a battle waiting for us, I have to take care to keep my electricity in check, so it won’t interfere with the plane’s functions. I realize it’s the first time I’m flying without Tiberias, or at least I can’t remember one. I catch Rafe looking at me once, when I lose another match and emit sparks as I drop my hand.

“These boxes are too small for us,” he says with an encouraging smile, and for the first time today, I have to smile back, without faking a good humour.

“Yes, we’re like the storm clouds planes hate more than anything.”

His answer is a laughter that fills the large cabin, and I and those around us have to fall in. I’m the storm, I tell myself, I won’t be caged again.

It’s still august, and thus, although a month has passed, the heat of Piedmont hits me when I exit the plane. The sunlight is an unexpected but welcome comfort. Not so for some other passengers, Farley among them, who take off their jackets immediately. I switch to observe my surroundings. The landing place is as good as empty, only a few people and transports wait for us. One of them is the colonel who was in charge of the base in the absence of Davidson and the generals.

“Hello, look who’s there!” I spin on my heel, startled by the call at me, and see my brother.

“Bree! Hi!” I squeak to my surprise. I rise to my toes and fall into his arms while he picks me up so I no longer touch the ground. I almost expect him to start twisting us.

“Welcome back, Operative Barrow,” he says into my hair, still holding me tight. “I’m sure you did important stuff, but you could’ve messaged us a little more often.”

He speaks with a smile in his voice and I reciprocate his joy. “Good to see you too, you giant,” I answer. “How’s the family doing?”

He lets me down. “Oh, good, good. Hmm, I’m here as a driver, but I can stop and let you out at home.” He winks at me and gestures to a shuttle bus, then pats my cheeks, suddenly more serious. “I’m really happy to see you here again, Mare. I’m glad every time when someone returns.”

I stand with him and help while he guides the soldiers into his bus and I’m amazed by his professional politeness while I just manage to greet those people I know and try to subdue my nervousness about meeting my family. When Bree’s about to get in, Farley’s the last one to enter.

In the bus, Cameron watches her curiously. Her lasting observation ears her a glare from Farley. “What?” she snaps finally.

Cameron giggles. She’s loosened her braids recently so her hair surrounds her like a cloud. Together with her amusement, it makes her look much younger. “You seem weirdly gloomy but aren’t actually gloomy so I think you’re trying to hide something awkward,” she ponders.

It makes Farley gape, then biting her lip. She lets us wait for an answer. “The colonel explicitly told me he can wait with a briefing,” she mumbles finally. “Even patted my shoulder,” she adds. “Really awkward.” Cameron’s laugh is contagious.

Only Farley and I exit when the bus stops close to my family’s house. “If that wasn’t conspicuous,” Farley remarks.

“Aren’t you authorized to make some exceptions?” I retort, to which she hmphs.

Dad opens the door for us and I’m still stunned to see him on his feet. He hugs me and shakes Farley’s hand before he guides us in. “Only Mom and I are here,” he says. “Oh, and the little one too. The others are out on some duties, but they’ll return for lunch.”

Mom has less sense for a polite welcome. She tries to hide her joy and chastises us instead. “Girls, now tell me what that video was about? We hardly got reports about you at all! And your father, Diana, was especially sparse with information.”

“I’ll inform him.”

“Oh, I did already. But why did you think it was okay to leave me alone with this storms-crying child?”

“Ruth, we all helped you,” Dad calls in and Farley blinks, obviously embarrassed.

“Well, she wasn’t a cry-baby when I – “ Farley replies helplessly. “I just hope she’ll recognize me still …” Then Clara cries from somewhere.

Mom shakes her head, though grinning. “Really, this discontendedness – Clara must’ve gotten that from you.” But Farley’s already off to find Clara in her basket on the couch. The baby’s crying was short-lived.

“Thank you so much, Ruth,” Farley says before she turns her full attention on Clara. “Hello Clara, my little dove. Did you miss me? Mama missed you terribly …” As she takes the baby into her arms, I feel Mom’s hand on my back too.

My siblings indeed come home for lunch, as does Kilorn. Their solidarity is impressing, and a great comfort. I love my family and I’ll fight for them, no matter which side Tiberias is on. I won’t lose anyone else of them again.

Once we finished eating and Kilorn and my siblings are slowly getting ready to return to their tasks, Clara wakes and cries again.

“Hey, let’s see if you like some lunch as well,” Farley mutters to her and goes to a bedroom. Suddenly, I find myself alone with Mom.

“Mare, why don’t you tell me what really weighs you down?” she asks and pulls me close. I don’t want to speak at first, rather dissemble in the same way I did in the last month.

“I …”

“I know you like to run away, and that’s fine. Sometimes, it’s the only way. But I’ll wait for you, Mare. I’m always there.”

I’ve seen Mom break anyone’s defenses, including mine. Yet when my tears start to fall and I begin to talk, it feels different. Something is me has broken, but something is patched as well. 

A/N 2: If Farley feels guilty, that is my fault, having her stay at Corvium for a freaking month without thinking first -.-°. Maybe Aveyard will know better and see her return after two days or so ;-) And I’m aware the “I’m the storm” line reminds of acomaf, so I tried to change a wording a little ;-)

@clarafarleybarrow @mareshmallow @calliopexclio @hannaharies @redqueenfandom @spookysamos @lilyharvord @red-queen-united @mikey-waysjawline @runexandra