#and i jUST realised it's exactly where jon split his nose

[warren-keplers-funk-band]

the mighty hair trio saga continues!!??

[mimosaeyes]

Post-176. Jon, Martin, and Basira regroup before continuing the search for Daisy. (Or: everyone is allowed to feel their feelings.) 2.1k, hurt/comfort.

I wrote a few lines of this fic after listening to the episode, but I wasn't going to finish it until I read @dathen's post about how 176 is basically "emotionally repress or die". Then I thought, oh wait, do people actually want the self-indulgent emotional catharsis? So, with @emberidzae's enabling and beta-ing, here we are.

It takes Martin longer than it should to realise that Basira is leading them out of the domain, not farther into it. Because of the way she’d begun hurrying them along, he assumed they were only a few steps behind Daisy, about to catch up with her at any moment.

Instead, the trees begin to thin out around them. Soon there’s enough space between the trunks to render them ineffective camouflage, and Martin stops feeling the urge to check his surroundings for the silhouettes of wolves waiting in ambush. There’s still a tight feeling in his throat, but at least the prickle on the back of his neck has disappeared.

He can still feel where Trevor had pressed the knife, the sharp edge of it right up against his jugular. The man’s voice had been shaking, but never his hand. No, that had been Martin’s own pulse, throbbing sickeningly beneath the blade and rushing loud in his ears.

Lost in the memory, Martin doesn’t notice the root sticking out of the ground until he’s already tripping over it. He has a split-second to think how stupid that is, how this has probably been the downfall of many people being chased by the Hunt — then his elbow is snagged by a familiar, scarred hand.

Jon doesn’t spare him a glance even as he releases his arm to clasp Martin’s hand instead. He just pulls him along, his pace brisk but not overtly hurried by fear or panic. Martin falls into step beside him, gradually regaining his rhythm and composure.

When they finally stumble into open space, Martin senses the difference at once. It’s not that he instantly relaxes; all things considered, he’d managed to remain relatively unfazed. But suddenly it takes much less effort to breathe normally. Suddenly, tension he hadn’t been aware of dissipates from his shoulders and chest.

He looks up to find Basira watching him closely. “Good job,” she says, making no effort to deny her scrutiny. “You’ll need full control over your emotions if you’re planning on following me back in there.”

Ah. There’s the rub. Of course they’re not done with this domain yet; this is only a pit-stop for Basira to make sure she hasn’t taken on liabilities.

“So you’re sure Daisy’s here?” Martin asks, managing to sound far more businesslike than he really feels about the thought of returning to the forest. “You’ve seen her?”

A muscle jumps in Basira’s cheek. Not quite a flinch, but the shadow of one. “I’m sure.”

She turns away from them and starts fiddling with her gun, checking the mechanism even though it had clearly worked fine on Trevor. Perhaps she wants a reason to keep her hands busy. Perhaps she wants to hide her face.

Martin leaves her to it and turns to Jon. He’s about to say something at random, anything to afford Basira the illusion of privacy, but the words die on his lips as Jon lets go of his hand and throws his arms around Martin.

He’s hugging back before he has time to fully register what’s happening. “Jon?” His voice squeaks from how tightly Jon is squeezing. “What’s wrong?”

Jon mumbles something against the crook of his neck. He can’t quite make out what it is. He catches sorry and couldn’t and so scared. Jon is trembling, he realises. It makes his heart lurch. He rubs a hand over his back in what he hopes is a soothing way.

After a long moment, Jon pulls back, gripping his arm with one hand while the other goes to the side of Martin’s face. “Are you alright?” he asks. “Are you hurt?”

Martin shakes his head. “I, I don’t think so.” But Jon checks anyway, running his fingers lightly over his neck to check for the smallest nick. Martin shivers at the gentle touch.

Then Jon tugs his long sleeve down over his knuckles and starts dabbing at Martin’s cheek and chin, which is when it hits Martin that the damp feeling there isn’t nervous sweat, but the spray of Trevor’s blood from the gunshot that had killed him.

He reels away from Jon — or he tries to, but Jon holds him steady. “Don’t look,” he says softly. “It’s okay, just look at me. It’s okay.” There’s something quietly insistent in his tone that makes Martin go still. Let me do this for you, it seems to say. Let me spare you this.

So he does. Instead of thinking about what happened, instead of peering at the red on Jon’s sleeve in his peripheral vision, Martin watches his face. Part of him is braced for the slightest wrinkling of his nose, indicating revulsion at his task. Mostly, he expects to see regret. They’d come to this domain hoping to find their friends and save Daisy, and instead another person has died because of them. It had happened indirectly, in that Basira had been the one to pull the trigger, but Jon had engineered the situation and Martin had participated in it, and... and it feels different, like this. Martin’s been calling it smiting when Jon turns the Ceaseless Watcher on an avatar, vaporising them. But there was nothing righteous about this, nothing neat and sterile. There is only the visceral, ignominious reality of a body left on the ground, and some of the gore still smeared over Martin’s skin.

Yet he looks, and finds only tenderness in Jon’s expression. All throughout the encounter with Trevor, he had kept his face impassive, his voice calm and in control. Only now is Martin seeing the depth of his fear for him.

Jon finishes cleaning off the blood and without further ado, rips the end of his sleeve off entirely, stuffing it in a pocket so it’s out of sight.

Half-jokingly, Martin laments, “Aww. I liked that shirt.” It’s one of his own, hence the excessively long sleeves on Jon. He’d stolen it a few days into their stay in the safehouse. Martin had teased him about it at the time, but never really minded.

“I’m sorry,” Jon says sombrely. Martin’s about to clarify that he was kidding, but then Jon continues, “I thought Trevor would go for me. I was nearly sure of it, else I would’ve told you more. I thought the worst I was asking of you was to stay calm while he threatened me, and you know nothing can really hurt me, so.”

“It’s alright,” Martin tells him. “I mean, it’s not alright, obviously; that was messed up to have to go through, but.” He offers him a slightly lopsided smile. “I trust you.”

Jon doesn’t return the smile, though. He just looks preoccupied; cagey. Like before, like he’s not telling him something. Martin frowns. “Why did you think he’d pick you? You’re not exactly without defences.” He glances pointedly at the eyes staring down at them from the sky.

“Because...” Jon sighs, shrugs, runs one hand roughly through his hair. “Because I’m the one who’d be prey in this domain. Fear of your friends turning on you? After Jane Prentiss, I staked out Tim’s house, I went through the belongings you’d left at the Institute. I was so easily made to feel paranoid, to dread betrayal. Besides—” He cuts himself off abruptly.

Martin narrows his eyes in suspicion. “What?”

Jon hesitates, reluctant. “And, well. Trevor’s a monster hunter.” 

He seems about to elaborate, but then just makes a vague gesture, encompassing all of himself.

“Oh, Jon...” 

But before Martin can tell him he’s not a monster, smack him, or possibly pull him in for another hug, Basira interjects. “You two do know I can still hear you, right? Honestly, you have definitely been wandering around with no other company for too long.”

Startled and sheepish, they both turn to her. She’s re-holstered her gun and is smirking at them with one hand on her hip. Martin sees the moment when her mirth reverts to steely resolve. “Enough blubbering. Daisy’s after Trevor. If we want to catch her here, we’ll have to move fast. Are you coming with, and can you handle yourselves?”

“Of course,” Jon replies, nodding and stepping out of Martin’s embrace. “Let’s go.”

Even though Martin hadn’t been around at the time, he imagines this is exactly how it went before these two ran off to Ny-Ålesund together. “Wait! Do you even have a plan?”

“Find Daisy,” Jon and Basira say in unison.

Martin resists the urge to slap his forehead. “And then what?” he asks, softening his tone from exasperated to reasonable. He addresses Basira specifically: “You promised to kill Daisy. Is that your first option, or do you have another plan?”

Judging from the way she stiffens ever so slightly at the word kill, there’s at least some doubt in her mind. Basira glances at Jon. “You wouldn’t happen to have any convenient Beholding powers to get through to her, would you?”

Jon winces. “We need a key to a lock in this situation, and I have... the equivalent of a nuclear warhead.”

Basira stares. “I don’t even want to know.”

“What about how we’re finding her, then?” Martin wonders aloud, hastily changing the topic. “If Trevor’s, uh, no longer with us, then we don’t have anyone to follow. Unless we can find Daisy’s tracks.”

“Unlikely,” Basira says. “She’s too good a Hunter to be hunted herself. I’ve been relying on Trevor, mostly.”

“So why’d you kill him?” Martin asks thoughtlessly.

Almost before he’s finished the sentence, he anticipates Basira’s raised eyebrow and sarcastic, “He had you at knifepoint. You’re welcome.”

“And the other reason?” Jon asks quietly.

Immediately, Basira snaps, “Don’t compel me. Do not look in my head.”

“I didn’t, and I won’t,” Jon says, holding up both hands placatingly. He’s telling the truth; there had been no telltale buzz of static. “But you could have shot him without killing him. You could have lamed him and waited for Daisy to come end it. So I know there’s another reason.”

Basira is glaring askance, but Martin can still feel the ferocity of that look. Then, haltingly but with more sincerity than he would have expected, she actually answers. “I found Julia’s body. Trevor is older than her, slower. Which means Daisy let him go on purpose. She — she’s relishing this too much. Trying to prolong the chase. I could’ve kept it going. Could’ve followed him for days, or what used to be days. But the longer that goes on, the longer she gets to toy with him... the less likely she comes back to me as Daisy. So. It’s better this way, with his blood on my hands.”

She takes a deep breath. Then she punches Jon in the arm — not hard, but not very lightly either. “I blame you for all this touchy-feely stuff. It must be contagious.”

Jon has the cheek to smugly say, “You’re welcome.”

Martin barely hears it, though. Basira’s words are echoing through his mind: his blood on my hands, his blood on my hands.

“I know how we can find Daisy,” he says. “Jon. That strip of sleeve? Give it to Basira.”

To Basira’s credit, she barely reacts as Jon uneasily extracts the bloodied cloth from his pocket and helps her tie it around one wrist. “This is Trevor’s blood?” is all she says.

“And now it also smells like me, Jon, and you.” Martin’s eyes flick briefly to the forest. “Daisy might’ve already found Trevor’s body. She’ll be looking for something else worth hunting.”

“It could work,” Jon says slowly. Martin doesn’t miss the worried look he gives him.

Basira holds her arm aloft on the breeze for a few seconds, letting the wind carry the scent into the trees. “Are you sure about this?” she asks them both. “You do understand that we’re making ourselves bait.”

The forest looms before them. Does it look darker than before? It never gets any later in the apocalypse, so it must be his imagination. Or his mind, already being drawn into the mentality of prey. Martin gulps. He tries to sound confident about his plan as he says, “The best bait is friendship?”

“Now I know why we never hung out,” Basira tells him, but without much heat. 

As they begin walking, Martin reaches for Jon’s hand. “Hey,” he says quietly. “It’ll be okay. We’ve got this.”

There’s a flicker of recognition in Jon’s eyes. “Apparently so,” he murmurs, giving Martin’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

They hold on for a couple more seconds while ignoring Basira’s eye-roll. Then Martin lets go and sets about pulling his emotions into order. They only want one wolf to come after them. 

At the edge of the forest, Basira checks her gun in its holster, glances at Jon and Martin in turn. Then she raises her arm again. “Alright, Daisy,” she murmurs, more to herself than to them. “Hunt this. Hunt me.”

[also available on AO3 here]

[my TMA fic on AO3]

[listentothelittlebird]

Today I bring you: an alternate Super Sons meeting! (This is a scrapped scene from my Code Bat series on ao3, but I think this is still enjoyable without context!)

The rewrite of this is here!

“I told you, coming with me would be boring.”

“Tt. Whatever, Drake.”

The nickname had long lost its malicious tinge. Tim rolled his eyes, trying to quell the fond smile that was twitching at his lips by ducking his face back down towards the paperwork on his table.

He was in a usually vacant office, at the Wayne Enterprises building of New York. Damian was playing a video game of some sort on his phone. Tim leaned over to peer at the boy’s screen. Damian tried to jerk away from his view, but Tim had already caught sight of the display.

Tim snorted, “Is that Dragonvale?”

“Shut up,” Damian snapped, his emotions betrayed by the reddening of his cheeks. Tim laughed lightly before returning to his work, the office descending into companionable silence, the only sounds coming from Tim shifting around the papers and clicking and unclicking his pen.

Damian had insisted on coming along for Tim’s business trip to New York. Not because he wanted to have a hand at the business, no, but because the young artist was interested in sketching the streets of the city - especially from the more illegal perches they could find on the tall buildings.

A ping from Tim’s phone caught his attention. He frowned minutely, enough of a change for Damian to raise an eyebrow from where he had positioned himself in the corner of the office, right next to the window overlooking the street below. Damian had already grown bored of the same view, having sketched the same perpsective for three days straight.

“So much for a peaceful business trip,” Tim murmured, signing quickly to Damian from behind his desk, where the camera in the room was unable to see, “K-O-N is in town. Pursuing T-O-Y-M-A-N.”

Damian tilted his head to the side, a silent question of “How?”, because New York was not exactly a neighbour to Metropolis. Tim shrugged with a disgruntled look, “Let’s go. I’m pretty much done with what I have to do right now. The rest can wait until later.”

Damian kept pace with Tim as he made a quick detour to access his spare costume before exiting the building. They were becoming more and more like real brothers each day - just the fact that Damian was here with Tim, without any of their other family members, already spoke volumes on their improving relationship. “What do I do?” Damian wondered curiously, “I know you’re intending on meeting up with him. Would my presence be distracting?”

Tim pursed his lips in thought. He had to admit, Damian’s new costume - the robe dyed with faint colourings - was pretty neat, but also very easily located. Damian would definitely stand out, if he did suit up. Not to mention that Damian had little to no exposure to any metas besides Duke, and would struggle to hide from Kon’s super senses.

“If you’re ready to make your debut, then I’ll see you at the destruction zone,” Tim clasped his hand briefly on Damian’s shoulder before ducking into the nearest alleyway. Damian would take more time to make it to where Toyman was currently wreaking havoc, since he had left his robe in their hotel room.

Sure enough, when Red Robin swooped down from the nearest rooftop to land a direct hit on Toyman’s newest creation, the flash of Damian’s white costume was still nowhere to be seen.

There was, however, another tween present. It did not take a genius to realise from the boy’s red cape and blue Superman tunic that this was Kon’s younger brother, Jon.

“How did Toyman get all the way to New York?” Red Robin aimed the question at his teammate, electing to ignore the presence of the younger boy for the time being.

Superboy huffed, visibly annoyed. “He let loose a ton of smaller toy robots, miniatures of the one he’s currently on,” Kon pointed to the UFO-like contraption that was zipping about the skies. He then directed a glare at his younger brother, “And somebody decided to ditch homeland, so that their Pa has to do all the work taking the robots down himself.”

“Pa can take care of the robots just fine!” Jon yelled, angry tone still dangerously close to a whine, “And I can help you! It all works out!”

Kon looked ready to argue back, so Tim cut in with a quick, “Less talk, more work. We can deal with family squabbles later.” Both Superboys instantly fell silent.

Toyman was rather irritable, Tim realised. Particularly so for him, since he was unable to fly and was restricted to the rooftops or fire escapes along the sides of the buildings. It was one of the few times that he wished he had incorporated his gliding wings into his Red Robin suit instead of his Gotham suit.

The villain also seemed to have a shield around his robot, preventing them from inflicting much damage on the UFO he was in. Tim was also constantly weary of the civilians - they were unable to properly clear out of the way, since Toyman kept switching streets and running off in different directions.

Jon tried to punch straight through the shield, but the shield deflected the force of his blow right back at him with a displacing wave of energy, sending the boy hurtling into a nearby building. The boy growled and got back to his feet, aiming to punch the shield a second time. The buildings around them were already unstable from the force of the first blast.

“Kid, don’t!” Red Robin called, but Jon had already flown straight into the shield, forcefully flinging his fist into the barrier.

-

Damian arrived on scene just as the buildings began to crumble. He stayed crouched a distance away, just shy of the main impact zone of the concussive wave.

Damian first noted the failing infrastructures of the buildings nearest to the blast. He was moving before his thoughts had fully formed, diving quickly through the sizable hole in the building and sprinting towards the unlucky civilians that were caught up in the chaos. He had to clear the building fast, before they were crushed under it.

He lowered the last person to the ground with his grappling hook, only to look up and note the presence of not one, but two Superboys. The smaller one looked to be around his own age, which was both intriguing and concerning.

The second Superboy now looked down at him from where he was holding up the upper half of the building he had just exited. “Who are you?” the boy asked in bewilderment. Damian backed away before ducking into the alley beside him, making his way onto the rooftop of a stable building.

“I could use some help!” Red Robin yelled from one street over, where Toyman had retreated to. Red Robin was using what looked to be electrified bird-a-rangs, which were just barely able to get through the shield, but were not doing much in terms of damage.

Damian slipped a small throwing knife into his hand, aiming his shot carefully. Toyman was facing away from him, and his control panel was on full display from where Damian was crouched. He waited until Red Robin readied another bird-a-rang, before throwing his knife in sync with him.

The shield malfunctioned for a split second once more, and it was all that was needed for the knife to slip through at the same time as the bird-a-rang, planting itself neatly into the controls. The wiring fizzled for a brief moment as Toyman cried out, whipping his head back to meet Damian’s blank mask.

The shield disappeared, and then Superboy - Kon-El - was delivering a sharp punch that crunched through the robot’s metallic body easily. The younger Superboy came soon after, hanging back as Red Robin and his older brother subdued Toyman properly.

The boy wrinkled his nose briefly, before looking directly at Damian, his expression brightening. Damian took a cautious step away from the edge of his rooftop even as Superboy flew up to him, landing heavily enough to crack the concrete slightly.

“You’re the guy from earlier!” Superboy enthused, and extended a hand, “Hi! I’m Superboy!”

Damian gazed warily at the boy’s hand. “Will you crush my hand if I shake yours?” Damian blurted out. This was his first time holding a conversation with one of the Kryptonians, he realised.

Superboy froze, and his face fell as he retracted his hand, “Ah, maybe. Sorry, I- I’m new to the hero gig,” he smiled hesitantly, glancing around him, “This is the first time I’ve been Superboy in any city other than Metropolis, actually. It’s… different.”

“I can imagine,” Damian commented, shifting tensely on his feet. Superboy frowned at him, “Your heartbeat’s going kinda fast. You know you don’t need to be afraid of me, right?”

Damian huffed, wondering belatedly how his brothers dealt with their own teammates. “I’m not afraid,” he clarified, “But it isn’t every day you meet an alien.”

“I’m not- okay, fair,” Superboy paused abruptly to glance down at the street. Kon-El and Red Robin appeared over the rooftop’s edge.

“Who are you?” Kon-El questioned, more forcefully than his younger brother’s harmless query. Damian shrugged. “Canvas,” he offered, “That’s what I would prefer to be called.”

The older Kent’s eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t exactly explain who you are very well,” he stated slowly, “What were you doing in the area?”

“Passing through,” Damian quipped easily. Kon-El’s frown deepened, but lifted as Red Robin pulled up several news articles on his holo-glove.

“His appearance matches reports of a white-robed traveller in numerous countries,” Red Robin summarised, and Damian knew immediately that the older boy had planned this statement, “Reports say that he was always found returning something, like an artefact or valued possession, to the communities he visited. He was also reported fighting off supernatural beings and protecting civilians from them.”

When the two Superboys looked back at Damian again, their expressions were contemplative. “So you’re a solo vigilante who’s even more nomadic than Red Robin,” Kon-El concluded, earning a disgruntled noise from the aforementioned person.

The younger Superboy suddenly lit up in an excited grin.

“Bro!” the punch that he gave his older brother made Damian wince slightly, “Teen Titans! Let me join!”

“I’ve already said no, countless times,” Kon-El stated in exasperation, “I’ll only let you on if-”

“If I’m ready, I know, but what if I go through like, a trial period, you know? Just in case I really am ready,” Superboy pointed towards Damian, “And Canva can accompany me, because he’s experienced already, then he’ll be able to tell if I am ready!”

“It’s Canvas,” Damian snapped, before the boy’s words sunk in. Teen Titans?

“You need to ask him for permission,” Kon-El scolded, before turning towards him, “Well? Are you interested in joining a team?”

“I…” Damian was at a loss as to how to respond. This was not what he was expecting.

“How about this,” Red Robin suggested, pulling a communicator from one of his pouches and tossing it over. Damian caught it on instinct.

“Contact us if you’re interested. The offer is open.”

Damian pursed his lips under his mask and nodded mutely, pocketing the device before taking off.

[shazyloren]

The Room: Chapter 55 - Trusting the Friend

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12710496/chapters/32932713

--------------

The attack on Jazzalyn Quench had meant to cause panic at the school, and it had done a wonderful job in achieving it's target. No one was walking alone anywhere, everyone was screaming every time a suit of armour moved. It was like walking through a horror house. And not to mention more fights had broken out due to people suspecting others and accusations flying left right and centre. Not even spells, just outright fists being used against each other.

Daenerys was worst of all, if the Heads and champions were being targeted she hardly ever left Jon's side. He, while showing that he was a man who was not scared, she knew he was too. You'd be foolish not to be anything else, really, particularly with everything going on and the impending doom that was the second task. Only a week away and causing more mass hysteria in Dany's body than the school put together. She wasn't ready for it, and even thought she felt like she knew more about Dragon's than an expert Professor, she was absolutely quacking as she was almost falling apart.

And Stannis Baratheon's suspicious behaviour did not help on that front. Jon had said what he'd noticed when they'd been in the Headmaster's office explaining the attack and Daenerys had fully agreed with him. She'd got a cold feeling from him, he was very shut off from the rest of them; and he was always disappearing in the hallways, you'd never find him after catching a glimpse of him once. There was something familiar about him though, it was that shut off and 'adult' exterior that she long associated with the dysfunctions of the men in her family. Men always were the same, only Professor Lannister was different, jolly and welcoming for the most part. Even the Minister had that same cold exterior that made Dany's skin crawl.

Men in power always act like it, she thought.

"And so Emeric the Evil slained as he had so many of his victims, claimed them no more thanks to Egbert the Egregious" She wasn't listening to Professor Binns, the History of Magic teacher, for he had been talking about this subject for so long she thought she'd grown old and was on the precipice of death. She looked at the clock and saw five minutes left, then she had a ten minute walk to the Room after lessons had finished. she would be on her own aswell, Jon had a free period and was doing his homework in the library last thing.

Well, he says that. Daenerys knows that he and Robb will just be talking about absolute rubbish and he'll get none of it done. Then he'll be panicking because he doesn't have enough time to finish it all and Dany will end up helping him. That's the way it always went. I should probably stop doing that, he doesn't do anything for me in return, she thought, a smile creeping on her face. He kisses well though, another thought crept in.

Dany's eyes widened as she realised what she'd thought and just shook it off as tired musings of someone who was still int the so called 'happy honeymoon' phase of her brand new relationship. If that's what they were. Of course, they called each other boyfriend and girlfriend, they probably were that too each other, but they'd never actually defined what they are. Dany wasn't in a rush to do this, their companionship was the only thing she'd been enjoying since the second attack, it was hard to keep spirits up, but Jon helped in doing exactly that.

It was ridiculous that they struggled so much in staying away from each other but if they were not careful this could be exactly what happened. They could be torn apart from each other forever if these attackers got their way. Suddenly, the prospect of facing a dragon wasn't as harrowing to Dany, the thought of losing Jon was so much greater in this moment. No one except him and Missandei would be upset if you went, she thought harshly about herself, and that last one is at a push.

It was true, she and Missandei hadn't spent as much time together as they'd have liked in the past few weeks. They had different schedule with only a few lessons crossing over nowadays and between keeping herself and the students safe, she was struggling to fit time in for her friend. It wasn't good enough, she'd been with her through all of it, she'd been a great friend and this was how she'd treated her.

She still hadn't told her about... him.

She should do it, she knows she should, but the prospect of letting someone else in on her deepest and darkest secret is so scary. however, if Dany didn't tell her soon, she'd find out from the papers and that was not how she wanted Missandei to find out. Stop being a wimp about it, you're a Targaryen, you're fire and blood and you are stronger now than ever before. Tell her!

Seeing everyone else get up and leave the room she scribbled a 'I'll be a little late to the room, need to speak with Missandei about something. See you in an hour Xx' on their magically linked notebooks before packing her stuff away and holding her wand firmly in her hand. The notebook warmed in her hand and so she looked at his reply. 'No problem, be safe X'. Daenerys felt her cheeks flush, he was so understanding.

Missandei had Herbology last and so Dany made her way to the Greenhouse to greet the Hufflepuff Students walking through the door. She stood awkwardly, not sure she even knew where to go to have this conversation, perhaps outside near the lake where no one else could hear. Even if it was a little chilly still. She spotted the hair first off, walking by herself with her head down. She said hi to passing students who smiled at her; even if most of them were fake (as were many of the people in the school to be honest) before hugging Missandei who seemed surprised to be accosted.

"Dany you're here" She seemed a little surprised, her honey eyes confused in the glow of the candles nearby. Dany nodded before asking her to come for a walk with her to the lake, but not actually giving her a choice and just dragging her with ease. She almost felt excited by the prospect of telling her, it would be a huge weight off of her shoulders. But she actually had to tell her, and that was the tongue-twister. "But dinner will be soon, I haven't eaten since breakfast"

Daenerys had to laugh at this, there was only one person in this whole school who had a bigger love for the elves cooking than Missandei and it was Jon. Although that was mainly just pancakes and the fish and chips. The winter sun was actually a little warmer than Dany had anticipated, it had to be double figures outside today. That or they were so cold still from the deep snow and hail that even a plus feels like the beach. "You'll be fine, I won't keep you that long"

They walked in silence, the wind howling as the chatter of students faded away behind them. Missandei looked tired, she always wasn't the best sleeper and Daenerys almost felt bad about telling her about her ordeal. She wouldn't sleep for weeks, and it would be all out of caring for Dany. A week didn't go by still without Missandei asking her if she was eating properly, drinking plenty and not pushing herself, Jon does the same too and she knows they both mean the best.

When they reached the lake, it was slowly melting, the lasting winter was fading away. Daenerys breathed in deeply, her nose tingling as the cold still snapped despite it's shaky cling on the coming spring weather. Bleak January had turned into hopeful February and with it, her attentions had been once again turned to inevitable death in the tournament and the need to tell all the truth. Missandei's gaze met hers, she knew something was up. "Something's wrong, what is it?"

Daenerys found her tongue getting caught in her throat and her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. "Do you remember, when we first came here together in third year?" Missandei nodded, remembering the first time they'd truly felt like they could be friends. It had been the last time she'd been here before the incident that Christmas. "That was the last time, until recently where I remember clearly being happy"

"What do you mean? You are happy, I see the way you and Jon are with each other" Her speech was impeccable, she really had improved. "Has something changed? Have you both fallen out with each other?"

"No, no. It's not Jon. It's..." She trailed off as the pain in her arm came to her attention, it was all in her head the pain she knew it, it had been four years since he'd grabbed her arm in that way, four years since she'd lost herself. "My brother attacked me" She said, tears already pooling at her eyes as she remembered the feeling of being split open as he forced himself inside her. "I was fourteen, Missandei"

"What do you mean he attacked you?" She looked lost, and Daenerys didn't want to say the R word again. She was tired of saying it, of think it, of feeling that word in her body. She was tired of reliving it every time she thought of the word, she was tired of this trial not being over. She was tired of hearing others talk about it and having to relive it every second of every day. She sighed exasperatingly and the sharp intake of breath she heard from her left meant Missandei had understood. "Dany... I- you... I mean"

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything. I just needed to tell you before everyone else knows" She sat on a rock to try and calm herself down. There was going to be a few long weeks ahead with the trial and everything else thrown into it. She wanted the support of Missandei, even though she shouldn't assume she'd get it, to help her through it. She had Jon, but she needed her best friend. "Yes, I was raped by my brother"

Missandei looked intense, as if she wasn't properly processing what she'd said but also struggling with what to say. "He w-won't get away with it, w-will he?"

"He's been arrested"

There was a silence, Missandei clearly was struggling harder with words than she had done in a while and Daenerys felt bad for causing it. But she had to tell her, she felt bad for only just doing so. "When?" She asked frantically. "When was he?"

"A few weeks ago, the minister is keeping it all hush. I asked him to until everything was ready to go forward, and it will be soon" Words came pouring out, it had not been nearly as emotional as her heart pouring out to Jon, but as she was beginning to accept that this all happened, she was finding it easier to talk about. Not that it should ever be easy because it was a horrifying thing that happened. "Piece of shit"

"Your own brother..." Missandei was horrified, she sat next to Dany on the rock. "Was... was it just the once?"

Daenerys shook her head, her braid blowing behind her in the freezing cold as it whipped around and hit her in the neck a few times. Missandei, placed her hand on Dany's shoulder to offer support. They'd never shown much affection to each other in such a way as normal friends should before. Dany had always struggled with it since her violation in third year and Missandei could never communicate well. But this moment between them, was a show of support that's never been there between them before.

"I... I'm so sorry" Missandei cried then and Dany just held onto the hand that was on her shoulder and looked out to the lake, the giant squid popping it's head up slightly before going back down into the depth of the black lake. She knew it would be raw, she knew it would be emotional, but never expected it to be like this. Especially when Missandei couldn't say what she felt properly. "I should've asked- I didn't see... You were hurt and I-"

"That is not on you, Missandei" Dany assured her, squeezing the hand tighter. "I've been in so much pain, he hurt me so bad... but you got me through it, you were my only friend when everyone else hated me, and you didn't have to. You saw past how angry I had become and still was my friend anyway. I'll never forget that, Missandei" Daenerys couldn't make much of the lake out now, her tears and Missandei's being the only sound, the wind even stopping. "You kept me standing"

"I don't... I can't..." She stuttered.

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything" Daenerys was happy to just hold her hand as they looked out at the view before them, wiping her tears away. She was happy to have her friend in the know, a pressure once again eased off of her but with that, the knowing that something else will come along and take it's place.

But for now, she was a little more free.