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bluenpjm · 3 years ago

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into the woods — jjk x oc ft. myg

synopsis. once upon a time, there was a King who had 3 children, as different as they could be. Seokjin, the oldest, was charming and brave. Carolina, the middle and only girl, was cunning, smart, and somewhat a tomboy, constantly defying her father’s rules. secretly, she was his favorite. lastly, the youngest, Hoseok, the lazy life of the party. they see their fates separated and all gets lost, as Carolina roams deep into the woods, trying to run a destiny she does not see deserving of her own.

genre. royal au + fluff + angst + smut

pairing. yoongi x oc ( later on it will be focused on jjk more)

rating. M

wordcount. 10.6k

warnings. light smut and some swearing.

a/n. this was the first solo story I ever wrote. it was actually published on my first blog @httpangelicjimin which is now deactivated but since I loved this story so much, I decided to edit the chapters I had and repost this! hope you all enjoy it~

chapters. 1 × 2

moodboards. here.

Carolina crossed the yard. Both ends of her excessively long dress were tugged into her hands. She was late, again. The thought of her tardiness crossed her mind but was quickly shrugged away. Her maidens knew that if it was mandatory for her to wear a corset, then it would take more than a pair of hands to dress her the damn thing.

She became at peace the moment she laid eyes on the bluebells her father had the royal botanist plant for her. The memories took her back to when he had to leave for the war. Every day, she would sit in the yard, waiting for the flowers to bloom, her father’s words echoing in her mind as if they were a song, dandled by the sound the wind made when crossing the bells, ‘I’ll be home when they bloom nighean. I’ll trust you this castle, God knows your brothers are a disgrace’.

He joked about her brothers. Hoseok was the youngest and thank the heavens for that. He was rather busy enjoying all the pleasures being a prince had to offer him, rather than focusing on the hard life his older brother had ahead of himself, full of politics and hard decisions. He still had to study but he was a coward, everyone knew that. Still, he threw the best parties.

Seokjin was the oldest. He was truly charming. He had a charisma that made his father proud. The King had offers from other kingdoms for deals that would make the devil turn in jealousy so that their daughters could marry the heir prince, but all those were in vain. The King had bigger plans for the oldest. He was going to make him proud. Of that he was sure. He was going to make the kingdom proud and once he did, they were going to party for months on end.

Therefore, Carolina was the one left. She was the middle child. Her father’s pride. Even more so than the oldest. She was always fascinated by the power of the sword, the swift movements the knights did when fighting and she always thrived in that area. She was smart and cunning. But, she was a princess and her part in the royal family had been made clear from the day she was born.

The flowers bloomed twice, and everyone lost hope that the King would ever come back from the terrible war to home. Everyone but Carolina. She would spend her days in that yard, drawing the flowers to show them to her father once he return. He still had time. And he appeared, in a stormy afternoon, chin up, mounting his horse and followed by the surviving troops. The kingdom partied for three weeks straight.

“Do you still believe they are purple or have your mind finally rested with the blue?” A voice sounded behind her, pulling her out of the daze she was in.

“I’m still convinced they’re purple and no one will ever change my mind.” Carolina turns, the smile she was trying to hold showing itself involuntarily. She sees who she was expecting already. Her faithful friend, Yoongi. “Not even you, my good sir.”

“I start to lose faith that one day you'll wake up more wise and reasonable…” He gives her a smirk, never leaving his perfect position. His mother would’ve been proud to see that all the etiquette lessons she had given him had paid off. “Anywhere I can escort you, Princess?”

“Dinna fash sir, I’m already wise.” She winks, dismissing his ironical worry quickly. She always had a smart mouth. “And as a matter of fact… yes.” She pauses slightly, taking in her surroundings one last time. “You could escort me out of here. I’ve been dying to ride a horse.” A playful smile takes form and Yoongi can’t help but shake his head.

“Considering your vestments, I’d say riding a horse now wouldn’t be the best option.” he pauses. He knew her schedule as if it was his own. He always makes sure the gaps in his match with hers. “Are you on your way to see his Majesty? It is Monday morning, so I suppose you have a learning day ahead of yourself.”

Carolina’s shoulders immediately sunk. She was hoping to have the day all to herself. “I do not ken anything of the sort.”

“Shall we?” Yoongi’s arms that were formally intertwined behind finally fall to meet the rest of his body as he slides swiftly to her side, offering her his right arm.

“And so we shall.” A bored look splattered on the princess’ face is shown as she takes his arm. “Everyone is such a bore around here.”

They walked silently.

Carolina and Yoongi had grown together. He was the son of the King’s servant— a stern woman, with a heart as cold as ice — but the King liked to keep her around the castle because she was good when a bargain was needed. That was what Yoongi took after her, and that was why he was allowed to live and walk around the castle without having to be escorted by the guards.

Now, Yoongi acted as a nobleman and somewhat of a counselor for the King when the subject was his daughter. He would always rely on the pale boy to help deal with Carolina’s tough moods and ludicrous ways of thinking. She had a tendency to shut off instead of lashing out and that made it hard for the King to understand her when things turned south. But not for Yoongi. Their minds were a lot alike.

They walked through the long chilly corridors; this time of the year would always make them hawkish. The wind howled into the window’s shell and they fastened their pace as if being pushed by the blown of the winds. The weather always influenced the King’s temper and considering the howling and how late Carolina was, there was a storm about to be formed in the Throne Room.

“ENOUGH!” The King’s voice echoed, making the messenger across the table sink in his seat.

“But your Majesty,” He started carefully. Whatever the topic was, when the King raised his voice, everyone knew better than to incite his anger.

“I don’t want to hear another word about such matter!” The King continued, standing up from his seat and turning around, finally facing the two meddling souls that were standing by the door. “Nighean,” his expression soften immediately. “I was expecting you.”

“Everything’s alright, father?” She asked, taking a step forward. Yoongi didn’t follow. Instead, he bowed and then pace backward, until he was no longer in the King’s sight and could turn his back to leave. He knew better than to meddle in businesses that were not his own.

“We were dealing with business, nothing you have to worry about.” He placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her out of the room. Before leaving, he threw the messenger another glance. One he knew sent out the message he was trying to say before being interrupted by his daughter. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Hadn’t had the time. But what business was that?” Carolina answered briefly. The hunger she was feeling quickly vanished with thoughts about the royal business. She could never let these matters be. If it concerned her father, then it concerned her and her brothers as well.

“Nighean now is not the time to speak of such matters.” He said sternly and although Carolina wasn’t pleased, she knew better than to test forces with her father. “Walk with me.”

They walked down the long chilly hall. The right side of the walls was filled with portraits of the previous Kings, Carolina’s ancestors. The castle where they lived was passed on for generations, this one being the seventh generation that took care of the castle. Only this time the portrait was of the King and his children.

Arriving at the dining hall, a servant was already pouring something into Seokjin’s glass and he thanked her politely, a blush creeping on her face at that moment.

“There you are!” Jin smiled big, noticing the King and his little sister walking in. “Did you forget we had to have breakfast today?” A quirky smile replaced the sweet one he had.

“I would never,” Carolina spoke as she sat down in the opposite chair of his. Their father sat at the end of the table.

“You are as much of a liar as you are charming.” He teased.

“Now my children, that’s is enough.” The King said, satisfied to see how well they got along. “Where is your brother?”

“Haven’t seen him today yet father.” Jin’s tone changed to a serious one now.

“Why isn’t he here?” The King rose his voice as he looked to one of the maidens that stood by the entrance.

“I’ll go ask his maidens, your Majesty.” The girl didn’t dare to look the King in the eye — mostly out of respect, but also a hint of fear — as she made a little bow before leaving the room.

“God forbid he was my oldest…” The King whispered under his breath, his eyes glued to the food on his plate as he suddenly felt the hunger leave him.

“Do you have to battle today?” That was what Jin and Carolina used to call to her lessons. She liked knowing, she didn’t necessarily enjoy studying and repeating the things she already knew.

“Sadly.”

“What a shame. All days today, that I wanted to take you out for a ride.” He teased.

“Be pitiful brother.” Carolina almost whined. She missed horse riding a lot. It had been too long since the last time she had the time to do so.

Before Seokjin could make yet another remark to tease his little sister, the King stopped him, by raising his hand. “Isn’t it time for your class?”

“I think I still have a moment.” Carolina tried to win over her father, but as soon as she saw his expression, she knew there was no luck for her today. The very few moments she had spent her father today, had proven that the bad weather was going to stay. He was in a bad mood, and whenever such a thing happened, everyone was quick to suffer consequences. Reluctantly, she took the napkin out of her lap, placed it messily on the table, and got up.

“You shouldn’t keep Sir Mackinnon waiting.” The King said sternly.

Before the princess had any chance to protest, Seokjin stood up. “I’ll accompany you.”

“I need to have a word with you son. Carolina can find her way just fine.” The King said, signaling Seokjin to sit down with his hand and he did so.

Carolina reluctantly left the room. Her father’s attitude was making her feel uncomfortable and she knew something was wrong. She was used to not knowing about the royal issues right away. It took some time before Seokjin — or even Hoseok — came to her and share what they had learned. Hoseok would come to her almost immediately. He couldn’t stand the burden of royalty on his own. Seokjin was the one burdened the most about such things. Truth was, he didn’t really like it. But being the oldest meant he had to do a lot of things he didn’t want for the sake of his kingdom and to please his father for most of his actions.

Yet, she couldn’t obey her father’s rules and as soon as she turned the corner, she stopped. Leaning in as much as she could but still making sure she wasn’t seen, she tried hard to listen to the conversation the two here having. As if they knew, the King kept his voice low but the words she could make out, she preferred to pretend she hadn’t heard a thing. She could already tell that today was going to be another wasted battle while repeating yet again all the things she knew in another lesson with Sir Mackinnon.

As she turned her back, the maiden that went to check on Hoseok was standing right behind her. Startled, she had to place a hand over her lips to not make a noise and risk being caught by someone else.

“You never saw me here,” Carolina said getting close to the maid, before fleeing away to her class.

There was a soft knock on the door. The rhythm it played made Carolina know who it was instantly. She waited for it to stop, knowing the person behind the door, he would probably be annoyed if she made him stop mid-knock.

“Come on in.” She said nonchalantly, not worried to see the person walking inside. She was certain it was him.

“Good afternoon, Mary.” Hoseok's charming voice echoed in the room, giving the maiden a smile. “Mind giving us some privacy?”

“Oh boy… what did you do now?” Carolina mostly whispered to herself but the comment reached the boy’s ears, earning her a roll of boy’s dark eyes. The maiden politely bowed before leaving the room.

“I’m glad you let me finish this time.” He said, referring to the knock.

“After last time, I’ll never interrupt you again brother.” She laughed lightly.

“Father gave me a hard time for not being present during breakfast.” He said, followed by a sigh, dropping into an armchair that was next to Carolina’s bed. “He is always so hard on me…”

“You should be used to that by now. He sent a maid off to see where you were.”

“Safely sleeping.” Hoseok showed her his signature smile, making her shake her head.

“What can I be of use for, brother?” She turned on her chair, closing her journal that was set on the little oak desk.

“I see you still use that.” He nodded his head towards the book that Carolina used as a journal. “Can I see?”

“It’s private so I’d rather not.” She spoke quietly. The boy smiled devishly. “Try it and I’ll make sure to break your fingers.” The smile vaded as quickly as it had appeared and for a moment Hoseok became quiet.

“D’you miss Pegasus?” Hoseok asked. He noticed as soon as he entered the room that his sister was drawing her favorite horse on the journal. She had that habit — of drawing everything she liked. If she would have the unfortune of forgeting how beautiful the things surrounding her looked, she could just pick her journal and see them again. As she was fierce with a sword, she was also delicate on those pages, showing the most intimate and sweet side of her.

“It’s been a while since I rode.”

“So…” Hoseok’s tone changed to the one he used to do every time he had an idea. Of course, those would always end in the three siblings being punished but they always had fun. Sometimes, Carolina or Seokjin could get away with the punishment. Never the two and never Hoseok. He would always be punished for whatever silly thing he did. “Should we just jump out of the window?”

“Not jump, but he can use something a little better.” She said, making Hoseok’s expression change into a puzzled one. Swiftly, Carolina made her way into her closet and pulled what looked like a rope made of rags. “You need to be smarter brother, otherwise you’ll end up dead.”

“Is that what you use when you sneak out at night?” He teased, passing by her remark to open the window as quietly as he could. They were certain Mary was patiently waiting outside their door.

“Ah. Ah.” She laughed drily. “Are you up for the task?”

That was indeed what she used for her rendezvous. Although she would never give the satisfaction to her brother of admitting, she was having those nightly adventures. Tightly tying one end of the rope to one of the posters from her bed, Carolina moved carefully not to slip.

Ever since the rain came back, the rendezvous had become less and less because Yoongi didn’t want to risk her falling down to her death. It was too high, but it also was the Princess’ room. She needed to be secure from all dangers. Some servants that lived in the castle were aware of what was going on between the Princess and the nobleman but they would never dare to speak about it out loud, afraid their words would reach the King’s ears.

Yoongi didn’t really care for the King’s opinion, although he was sure he wouldn’t appreciate the reprecursions much. Carolina was keeping the secret mostly for the thrill of having to sneak out of her window late at night and for the feeling of almost getting caught a couple of times. She needed that feeling in her life.

Hoseok wasn’t cut out for the thrilling life. Almost with his feet on the ground, one of his hands started to feel tired and he fell, his butt hitting the floor hard. Carolina had to put her hand on top of her lips to not laugh out loud and expose the two but once she managed to contain herself, she helped her brother get up, despite being scuffed away. Once he managed to get all the dirt out of his butt, they rushed to the stable where all the horses were.

The castle had a vast green area. The great walls that surrounded and protected the castle were made high but long so that that way, the royal family could enjoy nature while being safely protected in between the walls. Carolina felt like a bird in a cage sometimes, but there were areas they could go where it was away enough so that the castle could stay out of sight and feel like she was out, deep into the woods.

Sir Graham was the caretaker of all the horses. He had some men helping him, but if a horse had to leave the stable, he had to know about it. Gladly, he didn’t really care if the weather was good or not, neither if the kids had permission to ride the horses at that time nor if it was just then doing mischief. So, he gave Pegasus and Grain to Carolina and Hoseok and once they set them up, they rode into the vast property. It was still the same place they would go to, ever since they were kids.

“Did you have breakfast with Seokjin and father today?” Carolina asked. They had stopped for the horses to get some water from the lake and both siblings laid down on the grass.

“No,” Hoseok scrapped the back of his neck, almost shameful. “When I got there, there was only food but father caught me on the halls and gave me an earful of his mind about my behavior.” He tilted his head to the side when he heard Carolina snort.

“Lucky you’re the son of the King otherwise you’d have your arse in a cell for the rest of your days.”

Hoseok didn’t answer that. He knew his sister was teasing but there was some truth hidden in that sentence. “Why do you ask?” He said after a few moments of silence.

“I was just wondering.” She shrugged.

“Wondering?” Hoseok asked, now sitting up. “What? If I ate everything off my plate?” His left eyebrow was arched. He knew her sister more than she liked.

“When I was there…” Carolina trailed off, almost as if remembering the moment. “Father sent me away for my lesson because he claimed he needed to speak to Seokjin. Seokjin, only.” She emphasized the last part.

“I see…” Hoseok answered deep in thought as he climbed back up on his horse. “Race you to the stables?” And the boy went off.

“Cheater!”

She tsked, her tongue clicking on the sky of her mouth, signaling Pegasus it was time to go and fast! Pegasus quickly caught up to Grain and Carolina could only hear Hoseok’s excited screams, mildly complaining yet enjoying seeing the smile on his sister’s face.

There was no time she felt freer than when she was riding and everyone could tell.

By the time they got to the stable, Hoseok had stayed far behind and he was certain Carolina wouldn’t let that drop. She was already waiting patiently by the entrance, a cocky smile on her lips and the only thing her brother could do was pretend she wasn’t there and walked right past her.

“You know he isn’t interested in discussing politics with us.” Hoseok shrugged, returning the subject they had felt before.

“Lucky you huh?” Her tongue clicked. “And before, I caught him screaming to a messenger about some business. I'm pretty sure it’s related.”

“Why don’t you simply ask Seokjin?”

“If things were that simple…” Carolina sighed. “We should know about politics too!” She threw her hands up, frustrated, only to sigh right after.

“I’m fine with my duties.” Hoseok stood up, going to his horse and petting him. “We have so much fun, don’t we Grain? We don’t care about politics, just fun!” A childish voice came out of Hoseok’s mouth, making Carolina chuckle.

She’d had Pegasus ever since she was little. She was the one training him and he took a little after her temper. He liked to challenge all the other horses and when he had to be tied down the entire day in his compartment, he would always make a fuss. So every day, Carolina made the promise to visit him, even if only to brush his dark, black, almost blue-ish mane. It gave her a nostalgic feeling when thinking about the times she could ride every single day. She missed that.

“Remember when politics weren’t our concern?” Carolina started. Her eyes were focused on Pegasus but her mind was elsewhere.

“To be honest sister, politics still don’t concern me much.” Hoseok shrugged but Carolina didn’t even listen.

“Remember that time we fooled Ms. McGregor and came here to race each other? And you-” she turned to look at her brother, a smile already on her face and she couldn’t contain the giggles that escaped her. “You fell out of the horse because he is a scaredy cat — much like yourself.” As if he understood, Grain chirruped. “It started to recoil and you were so scared! When Jin got to you, you had blood all over your forehead and then father caught us…”

“That day…” Hoseok started once he stopped laughing. “It was bloody awful! I thought I was going to die! So much blood everywhere!”

“Oh, stop being a wee!” Carolina laughed even harder after hearing her brother’s comment. “The best part was even though you had to get stitched up, you still were the one to blame… and the idea to run away wasn’t even yours to beging with!”

“Perhaps that’s why I started to rebel? I was always to blame…” Hoseok said in a theatrical way. “You and Seokjin were worse than me most of the time!”

“And you know why?” Carolina said, a teasing look on her face, a hint of suspense in the air. “Because we both were very interested in politics! That’s why you would always be the one to blame, you couldn’t even plot otherwise!”

“Wha- How- how do you even dare to say such things?!” He was used to his sister’s words but they always caught him off guard. A blush could almost be seen forming in his cheeks from the rivalry. “To have a smart mouth I don’t need to care about politics! And- I can prove it to you!”

“Oh brother, you cannot lie. Not even if your life depended on it.” Carolina said in a form of a sigh, coming closer to the younger one and pinching his cheeks. “There is bravery in being soft, I reckon.”

“Can someone give me a break? Good lord…” Hoseok said, fussing her hand away. “Do you think Mary already noticed we’re not in your room anymore? How are we supposed to get back inside?”

“And here I was trying to compliment your arse…” Carolina rolled her eyes playfully. “Mary is my maiden for a reason, she will help us get back in without being seen.” She reassured and she was certain. Mary had helped her countless times in the past.

“So she does know about your rendezvous… I see!” Hoseok teased a little. “One last race, sister?” He asked a cocky smile splattered on his face.

“To be successful one needs to make alliances brother,” Carolina smirked, following suit. “I will. But make it fun this time! I’m getting tired of winning so easily!”

Seokjin raised his sword as the crowd cheered. His opponent was laying hard on the ground, the only thing moving was his chest as he breathed puffy tired breaths from the fight he just had with the prince. Seokjin had a habit of making his training public. He liked to hear the public cheer, the girls swoon, the men scream for his victory. His father wasn’t very fond of this doing, but that made the people happy and Seokjin made him believe that it made them feel more secure too, seeing the heir’s abilities.

As Seokjin finally had enough with sending flying kisses to the crowd, he walked over to his opponent once more, reaching out his hand to help the man stand up. The man in question was his instructor who proudly took it. Seokjin was always agile, ever since a young age but now he was a warrior. He had to be in order to be able to protect his soon-to-be kingdom. As he was ready to finish his training for the day, a man in the crowd screamed to the heir, getting everyone’s attention.

“I want teh fight the prince!” The man stumbled, making his way through the crowd. He doesn’t stand a chance, Seokjin thought to himself. “You’re afraid teh fight me, aren’t ya?”

“Shut your mouth, you crazy old man!” The instructor stepped in front of Seokjin.

“Fight me, I said!” The man kept shouting and people started to murmur. Some were shocked with the man’s audacity, to challenge the heir like that… he could easily get thrown into a cell in the castle dungeons. Some, though, were excited to see if the prince was brave to fight anyone that would challenge him, to see if he could win to other than his own instructor.

“Give him a sword.” Seokjin finally spoke, tired of hearing the man’s drunken screams for a fight. The crowd cheered once more, excited with the chance of seeing bloodshed.

This happened many times before in the past. Whenever Seokjin made his practices public for the commoners to watch, a lot of men thought they were stronger, fiercer than the heir but he was good. Too good to ever be beaten. The instructor reluctantly gave the man his sword. A crazy smile appeared on the man’s face as his fingers slid up and down the sharp blade.

Seokjin saluted the man, a bored expression on his face. The commoner sloppily did the same, except his eyes were filled with fire. The two started walking in a circle, in high-guard. The man struggled to take a swing at the sword, stumbling in his own feet. Seokjin merely fends off the waving sword, keeping his straight to maintain a safe distance from the drunken man. The atrocious fighter kept making numerous attempts to hit the heir with his weapon but they were always blocked. He kept a straight face, focusing on his training. As the fight was already taking too much of his time, he took a swing at his opponent, hitting his arm and making a small injury but that was enough to make the man drop his sword.

A little concerned, Seokjin walked to the man, pushing his sword further away to not get any unpleasant surprises and as he was about to kneel down near the fallen injured, he stood up. A radiant smile on his face.

“LONG LIVE THE HEIR!” He sang, putting his arms up and hissing, grabbing his injured arm. His past expression of ire changed into one of bliss. Soon after, all the other men joined the chant for the prince. “COULD YOU BELIEVE? THIS ARM WILL BLEED FOREVER, AS IT WAS THE SON OF THE KING THE MAKER OF THIS WOUND!”

Seokjin curtsy parted from the commoners, walking back towards the castle. He knew he needed to talk with his siblings, although he wasn’t quite sure how to approach the situation, afraid of how they would react. Hoseok had a tendency of augmenting everything he heard. A little bug on the wall yielded to be a fire-breathing dragon that was ready to take the kingdom as his new cave. As for Carolina, he was afraid of how she would react. Despite the number of words he used, making the speech up in his mind as he walked, none seemed fair, none seemed enough to make what he had to say easier. The last thing he wanted was to scare his siblings but he knew the two had different plans than the ones that were being imposed on them at this moment.

“Anella!” Seokjin called out to a maiden that was strolling in the hall.

“Yes, sir?” The girl turned, poletily bowing slightly as a way of greeting the prince.

“Do you know where my brother is? I need to talk to him immediately.”

“He’s in the Great Hall, watching the jester perform.” Anella, Hoseok’s main maiden explained. Hoseok adored seeing jester’s shows. Whether they were telling jokes or making acrobatics, he was delighted by the show they put on.

“Could you find Mary and tell her to bring Carolina there too?” Seokjin asked politely and the girl bowed slightly, before exiting the hall, on the look for the princess’ maiden.

Seokjin made his way towards his brother, his mind focused on his speech. Should he make a joke out of it? Should he stall the conversation as much as he could? No… he shouldn’t do that. That would only make things worse. Carolina would see right through him and be mad he was trying to lessen the severity of the situation. He had to be stable, honest, forward, and calm. But that was hard because he was nervous. Not about his future, he had embraced his responsibilities a long time ago.

His mind was brought back to reality as he heard Hoseok’s shrill laugh. He pushed the door open, to find the jester inside, as Hoseok was sitting in the throne.

“Tell another one!” Hoseok wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and continued laughing loudly.

“Alright, master…” The jester adjusted his position to mimic his new character. “I knew an old Bishop who had lost some of his teeth. He complained of the others being so loose that he was afraid those would soon fall out too.” The jester placed his fingers on his mouth, pretending to wiggle some of his teeth. Hoseok was already giggling. “As he was yet again telling one of his friends about his fear when the other said ‘Never fear. They won’t fall!’ The Bishop was intrigued as to why the man would say such a thing with such certainty. ‘And why not?’, enquired the Bishop. His friend replied, ‘Because my balls have been hanging loose for the last forty years as if they were going to fall off, and yet… there they are still!”

The jester finished his joke with some hilarious stunt making Hoseok almost fall off of his seat, as he was laughing hard. Seokjin had to join, admitting how amused he got by the joke.

“Oh brother!” Hoseok stood up in his chair, noticing the prince by the door. “Came to watch the show with me, have you?”

“Can’t believe you set up a show and don’t invite me.” Seokjin joked, joining his brother.

“You know me, always having fun!”

The two sat, watching the jester perform some of his tricks as the two brothers laughed in harmony. Seokjin was delighted by the puns the man was making. As for Hoseok, it impressed him more the skill he had to play many instruments. As a prince, he had access to many tutors, but he was lazy. So much so that when the time came for him to pick an instrument to play, he decided he could simply invite a jester over and be delighted by his skills.

A few moments after, the doors opened yet again, this time Carolina walking inside, accompanied by her maiden. Seokjin immediately stood up, signaling the jester to stop his show and leave. Mary did the same, closing the doors right behind her.

“Heard you wanted to see me,” Carolina started, as she walked closer to the two. “What’s going on?”

“Can’t a brother call out his sister to come and watch the show?” Seokjin let a nervous laugh escape from his lips.

“Then why did you dismiss the jester?” One of her eyebrows shot up. Seokjin knew there was no turning back now.

“Alright…” Seokjin paused for a brief moment, signaling both his siblings to sit down once more.

“Jinnie, what’s going on?” The tension and anxiety could be felt in Hoseok’s voice as he let out a laugh, his eyes shifting from Carolina to Seokjin. He wasn’t very fond of these brotherly meetings. Every time they had to do one, it meant bad news where coming. And every time, their father was too much of a coward to be the one delivering the news.

“Father spoke to me this morning and one of our ally needs help.” He started slowly, carefully placing his words so none of his siblings would throw a fit. “I'll be sent to the war instead of father.”

“WHAT?!” Hoseok screamed. For a second he thought he had misheard what his brother said. Carolina let out a nervous laugh, looking for one brother to the other, hoping what she heard was nothing but a bad joke.

“That being said…” Seokjin continued, his voice steady, ignoring his siblings' interventions. “Unless I die, you won’t have to worry!” He let out a dry laugh that soon faded as he saw Hoseok’s expression.

“What do you mean I won’t have to worry?! I don’t want to be king!” Hoseok’s despair echoed through the room.

“Are you being serious now? You'll really be going to war?” Carolina asked. The tone of her voice almost made Seokjin feel scared. She was incredulous.

“Yes. And there's more…” He paused but as he saw his siblings' worried faces, he stood up. A million things rushed through their minds. What else could he have to tell? “Carolina, you are going to come with me. Father promised you to the soon-to-be king of Korea.”

“HE DID WHAT?!” She stood up abruptly. “Correct me if I'm wrong… first my brother might die and then I'll be raped. I fucking hated this show.” She rolled her eyes, her tone was filled with sarcasm.

“And I'll be all alone?!” Hoseok said in a panic. “Brother you can't leave me! You both have to stay here!”

“It's what father needs us to do Hobi…” Seokjin tried his best to reassure his brother, hand resting on his shoulder as he gave a light squeeze. But he knew it was useless. “I'll be there to protect you.”

“You wouldn’t even be there if he didn’t order us to go! Why doesn’t he go??! Or I don’t know, send his finest man to fight for him?! Why you??” Carolina cried. She was filled with rage. “You are supposed to be his successor! A-And why me? Why-” She stopped mid-sentence, almost as if she had been defeated.

“You know father can't fight another war... he barely made it out of the last one he was in. I'll still be his successor. I'm the best fighter this kingdom has seen!” Seokjin spoke confidently.

“You want to go, don’t you?! Since that’s the only explanation for you to agree with this!” Carolina pointed her finger accusingly. “I won’t be his puppet and I won’t go.”

“Of course, I don't want to go but what can I do? If I don't go the kingdom will look weak and they can even attack us. You have to understand the situation sister. I know it’s bad but you have to.”

“Well, I don’t. If something happens to you they will attack us anyways! If the decision was between you and dad odds were in our favor if dad was the one going.” Carolina continued rambling and Seokjin knew better than to try go against her. “Pains me to say it but it’s war. It doesn’t end in a nice way I mean- Even if we win there’s still a large chance you won’t get out alive. And that means our kingdom will be left without a successor for a little while until they put Hoseok in the front. They will attack us and like you said, father won’t survive the war. More lives are at risk this way!”

“You don't understand... And it's not my position to make you understand. It's father's.” He said defeatedly, tired of arguing.

“Yes, you’re right! Your position was just to stand with your brother and sister and say no to this madness!”

Hoseok had his mind made in a twist, he was long lost in thought. How was he supposed to assume his brother’s steps? He was so perfect in everything he did. Seokjin sat in silence, reassuringly making him company. Meanwhile, Carolina’s feet could be heard stomping through the long halls as she made her way to the throne.

The doors of the Throne Room swung open.

“YOU COWARD!” Carolina entered the room, catching everyone’s attention. “You were like our hero, our example! How could you do something like this to us? Family comes first! You always said that!” She screamed in desperation.

“Nighean…” The King let out a breath, shocked by his daughter’s words. “Everyone leave the room.” He gestured to all the servants and maidens that were in the room.

“NO! No one leaves the room.” Carolina shouted once more, looking her father dead in the eye. “I want you to have a taste of your own medicine...”

“Carolina, don't throw a fit. You are all grown up now, so we will discuss this privately.” The King roars and everyone that had dared to linger in the room for a little longer, hoping they could catch a glimpse of the fight between the royals, leaves quickly.

“If I’m all grown up now let’s settle this as adults do. Let’s all have a gathering discussing the filthy things you are doing to your kids and then let’s just brush it off like it was nothing, shall we?” Carolina smiles sarcastically. “Because, oh father, I really want everyone to listen to what I have to say! I’m practicing for when I’ll have a whole crowd staring at me while a stranger marks me as his own!” She elevated her voice as she saw everyone leaving the room.

“What filthy things?” Her father looks her dead in the eye. He didn’t appreciate when his kids took the liberty to defy his authority. “Don't you understand what it means for our country for Seokjin to help our allies? And you... don't want you to stand by your brother? And what would your future be here in this kingdom?”

“What it means for our country is that Seokjin might get killed! And then what?!” She gasped furiously. “I will be alone anyways! And Hoseok will be named king like he never wanted to!” Her eyes were filled with anger and pain. “And what about our family, father? Each of us will be alone from now on! And I would rather be an unmarried peasant here, close to my brothers, my people, and my horse than to be someone’s wife in another country, all alone.”

“He won't get killed." The King’s voice was cold. The thought of his son dying made him shiver. "And Hoseok needs to gain some responsibilities! Clearly, you don't know what would be best for you, nighean. That's why I'm here to make the hard decisions.”

“Oh yes, father because you yourself didn’t take years to come back to us because of the war! You don’t know if he will or not. War is unpredictable!” She was desperate but deep down she knew there was nothing she could say that would change his mind. “And you do?! Do you know what’s best for me? If you think the best for me is to be rapped then you clearly know nothing about your own daughter!”

“Of course, he will! I did, so he will too! And you are overreacting everything! You will have time to meet the prince, there will be no such things.” He ushed her immediately.

“Have you ever pondered that I don’t want to meet the prince?”

“It's not about what you want, it's about what is best for the kingdom. We need allies. Stop behaving like a child!”

“Funny father.” Carolina laughs bitterly. “When I wanted to be a grown-up and take part in politics, you wanted me to be a child. But now you don’t like that anymore because you need me to be your bloody puppet!” She cried out, feeling tired all of a sudden. “And mark my words, a puppet I shall not be!” She turned her back, ready to leave the room.

“I am doing what is best for you, nighean. No man here would be able to give the life you will have there.” He roared, still sitting on his throne.

“No man will ever be able to give me the life I want and that includes you too.” She turned around, her eyes glazed, before exiting the room.

Carolina couldn’t help the rage she was feeling. How could her father do something like that to her… Sell her out to another man, like she was nothing but a piece of meat. Leaving the Throne Room, she banged the door harshly, a million things running through her mind. She had to make a plan. She couldn’t marry someone she didn’t love. She couldn’t leave her kingdom behind. What about Pegasus? Who would take the time to care for him every single day like she always did? What would happen to her loyal maiden Mary? Would she be thrown out of the castle once she had no one to serve? Her mind was spiraling and she felt her breath tightening around her throat.

What about Yoongi? She felt her heart race thinking of him. She wasn’t prepared to leave him behind. To say goodbye. But she knew he couldn’t come either. She rushed to her desk table, grabbing her journal and ripping a little piece of it.

meet me tonight.

love, c.

Carolina called Mary, that quickly open the door, eyes filled with concern for the princess. As she used to do, she asked the maiden to deliver the message to the nobleman. She was afflicted with what to do but she knew she had to tell him about what was going on. He deserved to know. And maybe, she thought hopefully, he could have a plan for the two of them.

When the time came Carolina ran as fast as she could towards Yoongi's cottage. By now, she could make that path with her eyes closed and even if the moon wasn’t shining bright on the sky, being her only source of light, she could move easily between the branches and trees. Reaching the wooden door of her safe heaven she came to a halt. The princess’ breath was heavy and tormented. Her hands acted as if frozen, she was too scared to push the heavy and inanimate obstacle keeping her away from her lover.

She closed her eyes in an attempt of recollecting herself but before she could do so the door swung open and so did her dark brown eyes. Her gaze met his and although her situation was still a raging mess inside of her, he was like her abyss, his darkness pulled her into the calmness she needed right now.

“Were ye’ going to just stand there?” Yoongi's hoarse voice cut the air and she did nothing but to crush her lips on his in the most urgent way. He stumbled back taken by the surprise but was quick to lace her waist with one of his arms while his free hand closed the door behind them.

Carolina had a fervor nature and the man knew that quite too well but there was something about her urge that made him furrow his brows even though his eyes were still closed shut and his body was still pressed on hers; his mouth molding the soft pair of lips that seemed too eager for that kiss.

“I'm-” he tried but she didn't budge. The man had to set his large pair of hands on her hips to push her gently in order to speak. “I'm not complaining, mo ghràdh” he started again with a playful smile on his now red lips. Carolina soften at the pet name. “but might I ken what goes through your mind to make you so starved?”

Her hesitant eyes met his and she could see they were full of questions. She wanted to answer them all but she just couldn't find the right words or the courage to say the things she needed to him. The things that he deserved to know.

“I-” Carolina tried to say but nothing came out after. “Just kiss me, Min Yoongi.” She pleaded softly and he didn't have it in him to say no. Not now, not in a million years.

His right hand came gently to her neck and he towered once more over her, as they were now laid on his small bed. Yoongi's breathing was mixing with hers, their noses touching but their lips still millimeters away.

Carolina had her eyes closed, her body begging for him to take her, never had she been so surrendered to him before. His eyes on the other hand were trailed on her features, his nose still caressing hers softly. He wanted to ask what was going through her mind. He knew her far too well but he also knew the answers would arrive in time. On her time. So he kissed her. He took her lips on his in a calming manner, almost reassuring.

The girl moaned into his mouth as if that kiss was all she needed to feel well. Her much smaller hands made way towards his somewhat cold torso, pulling hard when they reached the collar of his plain white nightshirt, still tucked inside his kilt. His kilt. How would she live without unbuckling it? While his hand pulled tighter on the strands of hair they were entangled in, one of hers traveled south to unfasten his belt. The kiss wasn't soft anymore. Carolina bit his lower lip every chance she had making him grunt and squeeze her waist harder.

“Let me undress you.” He said lowly against her lips and before she could say something his swift hands turned her body around.

On that cottage, all you could hear was the crackling of the fire that warmed the ambiance and Carolina's heavy breathing. Yoongi could feel she was nervous and he couldn't quite understand why.

This wasn't the first time she would laid down with him. He was unlacing the back of her dress, strand by strand, and every time he pulled, Carolina would let out a whimper. Until the gown fell and pooled over her ankles, the cold hitting her body, the only thing protecting her skin from it was her corset and Yoongi pressed on her back.

“I missed you, mo ghràdh,” he admitted against her neck. His breathing tingled on her skin and suddenly it was too much for her. Her mind was running wild and she needed to silence it.

She turned around to face him once again, her lips quick to find the comfort of his neck where she sucked and peppered with open-mouthed kisses before pleading once more. “Make me yours- please just make me yours.”

In a flash, they were clashing again, just like a dance where both knew exactly the movements of the other. Carolina broke the kiss to discard the little piece of clothing she still had left, the man's eyes now lit with lust and even more want for her.

In an urge of having the warmth of her body against his, Yoongi reached back to pull his nightshirt as well and when he was ready to toss it over on the floor, he heard the clink of his belt hitting the wood beneath his feet. The princess yanked the plaid cloth out of his hips and clashed on him.

They were like fire and water. Her body and eyes were flared up by her need, and him, he was the cold and his suiting touch that made her at ease. They complimented each other in every aspect. The way she pushed hard against his bed, the way his large hands squeezed hard the girl's tights while she straddled him, the way she played with his soft locks in the most gentle manner while their mouths traced a not so soft pace against each other.

“I could have you like this forever, God-” Yoongi moaned when she rolled her hips against him inciting the animal in him.

“Don't say that…” She answered immediately, eyes closed in pleasure by what his mouth could do to her breasts.

“But I do. You'll be forever mine, mo ghràdh.” He said shifting his lusted gaze from her breasts towards her eyes. He knew Carolina had a tough time externalizing her feelings but her eyes were always the most sincere. So she kissed him instead, angrily, as if she wanted to punish him for saying such words.

“Promise me,” her voice sounded strained against his lips. “Promise me you'll never forget me- and that you'll always be here, waiting for me.” As he locked his eyes on hers, it was nothing like he was expecting. It was so much more. Hers were eager, pleading as if her life depended on it. His hands came to her back, his fingertips sinking in her skin.

“I will always be by your side, my princess, you know that.” He chuckled but his tone didn't change, not sounding light as he expected, his own concern difficult to hide.

“No!” She cried. “I am being serious, Yoongi. I need-” she took his face with both her hands. “I need you to promise me ye'll wait for me no matter what.”

His eyebrows furrowed and she couldn't take looking into his eyes anymore, so she closed hers, leaning her forehead against his.

“My father sold me...” Carolina's voice was nothing but a whisper. “Tomorrow I will be someone else's to be laid with.” Yoongi didn't notice but his hands sunk in further on her skin and he could swear he heard the exact moment his heart fell to pieces as if it were merely a flower being plucked out of the ground.

“We can find a way- I can go to your father and convince him and-” Yoongi fumbled.

“There's nothing you can do this time…” The girl said gently, her eyes still closed, unable to look into his and feel even more broken than she already was.

“I can always do something, Carolina!” He said unhappily holding her closer as ever.

“I'm being sent away, Yoongi.” Her voice cracked and his heart only sunk lower. “Tomorrow morning I will be leaving for Korea with Seokjin. While he fights with our allies, I will be offered to the prince.”

“Run away with me then- We go tonight when the men are fast asleep-”

“Yoongi” she opened her eyes, her thumbs caressing his cheeks softly. “I won't risk your life for mine.”

“The hell with my life! We can run away from them. I know we can, mo ghràdh!” He said exasperated and for Yoongi that was a lot. He wasn't the type to break into a storm, not ever. And Carolina knew that so she kissed him again because nothing would change her mind, not even him. And it was impossible that she would risk his life for hers.

“All I'm asking is for you to wait for me. I will return to you Yoongi, I swear I will.” She reassured him even though she was trembling in fear beneath his touch. “I will flee at sunrise and if they catch me I will go, but I will not rest until I'm here, back to ye’, I promise you that.”

One of his hands came to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear gently. He smiled weakly at her, knowing well nothing would change her mind from what she had just said to him. And he wouldn't dare to contradict. He knew he would be killed if he did something — he wouldn't mind it, he wasn't afraid of death. But he was afraid of hurting her. And if what he felt for her was the same as what she felt for him, Yoongi knew she would prefer anything than to see him dead.

He couldn't bear to know that by morning his love could be touched by someone else but he would rather know she was with someone else than see her dead and have to live in a world without her grace. In a swift move, he placed her on his bed, trapping her between his arms. His excitement was still stiff from the previous words, firm against her lower stomach.

“Then I promise you, I surrender to you my heart and I will be here, waiting for you.” He said looking deeply into her eyes. Her hand went once again to play with his dark locks.

“Then mark me, Min Yoongi, make me yours and forever yours.” She requested sincerely. “Let me long for your touch even when I'm far away from home.”

He was slow and careful, and so was she. They wanted to remember each other's touch, each moment, and savor it. She needed to engrave as much as she could of him as if this last moment was a treasured talisman against what was yet to come; a morning and every morning after without him.

Carolina touched every inch of his body. She felt the grace and softness of each curving bone, his pale skin set on fire reflecting the flames of the woods that burnt near them. She tasted the salty sweat that adorned his throat, smelled the warm muskiness of his skin, and lavished on his soft lips that tasted faintly of blueberries.

“You are so beautiful.” He repeated like a symphony next to her ear while the orange lights from the fireplace illuminated her and he touched the skin of her inner thighs.

He was hard in her hand, so stiff with lust and wanting that every touch from the girl, as much soft as it was, made him groan in need. So when he could no longer wait, he marked her as she wanted, he took her. They moved together at a fast pace, full of wanting, pressing, and needy. They didn't want to let go. Didn't want to reach a state of bliss, fearing that if they did, they would be forever separated.

Yoongi brought his princess over and over again to her release, he himself with a pained expression trying his best to hold back. He gasped every time she clenched around him, stopping and then start moving again. An infinite circle. Until at last Carolina pulled him by the hair, pressing him tightly. With a grunt muffled in her neck, he came hard, accompanied once more by her. Their whimpers and exhaustion seemed to dissipate in thin air alongside the remaining flames by the fireplace.

They remained there, beneath the warm and cozy furs that covered his bed, their bodies pressed together in a calm and blissful way. His weight on top of her was much welcoming, like a shield to the outside world for the now so broken princess.

“Ye’ ripped my heart out.” He said at last, softly. “And it will only beat again once we are this close.”

They lied there, warm and tangled. Carolina's heart was beating fast with all his declarations but she wasn't able to form a smile. At last, he slipped free, and turning, he embraced her from behind. His hands intertwined with hers and his breath was warm and tingling on the nape of her neck.

“Rest your head, mo ghràdh, I'll be here holding you,” he whispered. “I will let you know when the time comes to go.”

She would say no, but her body was exhausted and her mind was asking for a break. So she slipped into a blissful dream, where she was the master of her destiny and fate.

Near dawn, Carolina woke up by the muffled screams coming from the outside, Yoongi's arms still around her. She rolled to the side and lifted herself to watch him, to see the first rays of light coming from the window touch the soft features of his face, so peaceful asleep, to see the dawning sun ricochet his dark locks she loved so much, for the last time.

She knew she had overslept and the screams that seemed so far away from them were probably her father's men looking for her. They already knew she was missing.

A wave of anguish broke through her, her thoughts so painful that she didn't notice the couple of tears that rolled down her cheeks or even the soft sobs she fought hard to keep within. Yoongi opened his eyes. He smiled when he saw her and right after his eyes scanned her face, his hand coming to touch her teary cheeks. Carolina knew he was memorizing her features, as she was memorizing his, she knew that this was their goodbye.

“Yoongi,” she started, her voice hoarse with sleep and swallowed tears. “It is time for me to go if I still want a chance of escaping.”

“I know, mo ghràdh.” He said sorrowfully.

The princess leaned forward for the last peck, a soft one on his pouty lips, and then got up from the bed without glancing back. She searched the floor for her clothes and once she spotted them she retrieved them swiftly, the cold cloths serving as a shield for her body once more. Her dress was the tricky part, but she took all her effort gladly to tie the laces of the corset alone as if focusing on the act would keep her safe from her feelings and her broken heart. It took her a little while, but when done with the dress and eventually her shoes, she turned back to face a now an all dressed Yoongi. She was so focused on her task she didn't even notice he was getting ready as well. With his kilt on, he made his way towards her, his sword clinking on his belt every step he took. This was it.

“Ye’ are blood of my blood…” Carolina whispered. Her eyes stared deeply at his while starting to recite the vows she knew by heart.

“...and bone of my bone.” He answered gently. “I give you my body, that we two might be one."

“I give you my spirit, 'til our life shall be done." She smiled crookedly.

Carolina was afraid, she knew the journey ahead of her wouldn't be easy... She was an adventurer by heart and she would always do her fair share of forbidden things, but to live as an outlaw and worst, to live in the wilderness alone was something she have never thought of. It was something she didn't know if she would be capable of doing. But it was looking at Yoongi's soft eyes that she gathered all the courage she needed, simply because she wanted to be with him. She wanted to be his, only his.

“Longer than that,” Yoongi said firmly, pulling the girl into him once more.

They both were interrupted by a noise coming from the hillside, right below where his cottage stayed. It was the sound of voices and footsteps. Carolina's heart was drumming loud on her ear, but she looked back at him, just for a moment to see the last sight of her lover.

He turned to her once more, catching sight of her beautiful chocolate eyes and suddenly he was crashing on her once more, pushing her hard against the wall in agony and desperation. He secured her tightly to him. She could feel his erection pressed into her stomach through the kilt.

Yoongi spoke hoarsely into her mouth. “Once more. I need you! I must have ye’- Just once more!”

He pushed her hard against the stone wall and the girl scrambled up her skirts as quickly as he raised his kilts. They looked like savages and this was hardly lovemaking as it had been hours ago in his small bed. He took her quickly and was overly powerful. Their hips snapping against each other, his large hand covering her mouth that wouldn't contain the pleasurable moans, her hands pulling hard on his hair enough to make him hiss.

“Your mine- Ah!” He felt intoxicated by her — by all the feelings he was feeling right now. How would he let her go? “Ye’re all mine.” It was all it took for Carolina to unravel against him. Her leg secure by his hand that embraced his hip spasmed and he held it even tighter. It would definitely leave marks for her to remember this moment.

“I love you.” She gasped, head leaned on the wall while his hips thrust into her at an erratic pace. Once he heard her saying those words he reached for her neck and grunted in total bliss as he came undone. The voices were nearer, both could tell.

He kissed her once more. “Never forget,” he said, “how immense my love for you is.”

And before she could say anything else he pushed her towards the back door of his cottage. As she ran for it, she glanced back to see him standing in the middle of the room, sword ready to be drawn. “Go, mo ghràdh, I will stall the men for you.”

And with tears in her eyes, she turned away from him and ran for her life. After that, she knew she could face anything that came her way, for as her thighs were wet and slick with Yoongi's seed, and she stumbled on rocks while pushing her way through branches blinded by tears, she came to the realization that nothing hurt more than to kiss your lover goodbye.

Later on, she was caught. Her father had been far too cunning, knowing his daughter would try to run. Never in her life had she done something she didn’t want. He called all his men to protect the secret passages the castle had and sadly enough, she was caught in one of those. She tried to fight, but in the end, she was too tired. Too tired to run. Too heartbroken. And has the ship sailed, in direction to her new living hell, she understood she never got to say goodbye to her brother. She never got to ask Mary to take care of her horse. She had many things unfinished, she had to come back home. She would be back.

[ next chapter ]

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queer-ragnelle · 2 years ago

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An Arthurian adaptation need not resemble its source when the creator cares about thoughtful storytelling and themes. This transcends medium and genre. I’m not a snob about “accuracy” so much as a stickler for adherence to the respect of one’s audience through sustained narrative quality.

Examples forthcoming.

Camelot 3000 comic is set in the far future. Everyone is reincarnated. Tristan is reborn as a woman, and has to overcome dysphoria and questioning of sexuality in order to properly embrace their new life with Isolde, another woman. Kay explains that he was unruly all those years ago to deflect criticism off of Arthur and direct it at himself, an attempt to subtly aid his brother in maintaining a positive public image. Guinevere is a military commander whose role in the love triangle remains intact aside from the ending. The fellowship of the Round Table are battling aliens while grappling with their new identities and personal journeys. It concludes after Arthur dies, and Guinevere reveals to Lancelot she is pregnant, but doesn’t know by who. He says he will love the baby regardless. So they escape their doomed fate of the medieval source.

Monty Python and The Holy Grail movie (and musical) takes one of Arthurian Legend’s darkest and most tragic stories and retells it as a comedy. Every trope is subverted to an extreme. King Arthur’s supremacy and the conventions of his story are constantly challenged. Serfs question the Divine Right of Kings and “didn’t vote for” Arthur. The Black Knight denies his inevitable defeat, suffering “but a flesh wound,” until he’s nothing more than a torso and a head. French sentries refuse Arthur’s appeals for entry and mock him from the battlement. Meanwhile Galahad endures the Castle of Maidens only through the help of a queer-coded Lancelot (which becomes explicit in the musical when he marries a man). Not only a complete reversal of their medieval roles, but conflict from Guinevere and Elaine is entirely absent (except in the musical which includes a character named Sir Galahad’s Mom). The group then faces the Bridge of Death. Lancelot contrasts his medieval counterpart yet again by answering a simple question and succeeding, OC Robin the Not-Quite-So-Brave-as-Sir-Lancelot fails an absurdly challenging one, followed by Galahad’s failure of another easy one. It ends with Arthur and Bedevere searching for Lancelot, and ultimately results in their arrest by the police.

High Noon Over Camelot is a folk album that retells the story as a dieselpunk western. The three Pendragons—sheriff Arthur, quick-draw Guinevere, and sharpshooter Lancelot—run Camelot as a polyamorous throuple. The love triangle conflict is turned on it’s head which opens the story up for exploration of side characters and their niches. Arthur’s daughter Morgause is not killed by the Ghouls (Saxons) as he thought but instead raised by them, eventually transitioning to Mordred. The Hanged Man, a robot named Merlin, gives three prophecies: Arthur’s son is alive, Gawain’s hatred of the Ghouls is unjust, and Galahad the preacher should sit in the Siege Perilous. Only Galahad heeds the prophecy. Driven mad by the power of the Siege Perilous, he has visions of the space station’s imminent danger, which can only be helped by restarting the GRAIL system on board. So the Pendragons depart with the Grail Knights, leaving behind Mordred and Gawain in charge of Camelot. Mordred tries and fails to pass a peace treaty between Ghouls and Camelot when a fight breaks out and Gawain goes berserk. A hopeless Mordred ends up abandoning his convictions and heads for the space station. He corners the Pendragons as they reach their goal, the Grail Knights having fallen to get them this far. Mordred kills Lancelot and Guinevere, wounds Arthur, then ejects him into space inside a life-pod. Lastly he crashes the station, killing everyone on board and himself.

The Knights of Breton Court is a trilogy by Maurice Broaddus that retells King Arthur’s story in a modern inner city American setting. Street hustler King attempts to reconcile a group of drug dealers, gangbangers, and well-meaning but lost street kids into a uniform front. All kinds of issues arise to comprise his vision, sometimes borne of character flaws within his crew and sometimes otherworldly forces. In some ways, this series could’ve stood to divert even further from the medieval literature that inspired it, as it suffers from the same pitfalls causing modern readers to drop antiquated literature. The meandering plot, inconsistent pacing, and multitude of characters can read nonsensically to someone unaccustomed to the style. The central thread, King [Arthur] and his goal, is sometimes lost. In trusting Broaddus, I think this criticism relates not to his ability as a writer, but can be traced and attributed Le Morte d’Arthur. Regardless, that’s neither here nor there. The point is that The Knights of Breton Court’s shortcomings are unrelated to its divergence from medieval sources. Although it’s not my favorite, it illustrates beautifully how far a novel can stray while keeping itself firmly under the retelling umbrella. The Indianapolis setting and reimagined personas for the knights is it’s greatest strength, but would be fundamentally broken if Broaddus had stripped it of its original essence. They are intrinsically linked. Also Kay is an unfriendly Rottweiler.

These examples offer thought provoking changes while utilizing the framework of existing characters and their established dynamics/traits to subvert or deepen the meaning behind them. For all the differences between the adaptations and their shared source material, it works, because the creators committed to the bit. This isn’t to say all retellings toe that line effectively.

Cursed is a novel and Netflix series written by Tom Wheeler, illustrated by Frank Miller, and produced by them both. Considering the amount of involvement these two had on both the book and series, it’s safe to assume their creative control was absolute, and each of these mediums fully realized their vision for the story. However, regarding Miller and Wheeler as storytellers with a vision implies they are creatives. It assumes a passion for the project, some semblance of personal expression through art, which is unsubstantiated by the artificial depth of significance displayed in Cursed. The series was green lit before the book even published, so that should give you an indication of the true motivations behind this retelling. It wasn’t made for the love of the source material realized through an artist’s unique perspective, but quickly drawn up and produced to capitalize on the joint products as much as possible.

I will spare everyone a long-winded review of this wretched book and show. They fulfill none of the promises made in the back cover blurb and series description. It’s an insult to the audience’s intelligence. But the point is, the Arthurian elements are not integral to the story, but rather recognizable set pieces and props artificially painted on like a brittle veneer. They exist solely to capitalize on what Miller and Wheeler hoped was an existing audience without the need to develop worthwhile story and attract an audience on their own merits. What they’ve done feels not like inspiration or transmutation, but appropriation of something they neither respect nor care to understand. That is the stipulation, for me, to garner enjoyment from a retelling, regardless of how far it strays from the sources it claims aspects from. An artist must comprehend their material, their muse, their emotional connection to the piece in order to properly manipulate and utilize it. Miller and Wheeler are not artists and their lake is a puddle.

#Arthurian legend #Arthuriana #literary criticism #literary critique #idk what else to tag this as I am ranting #I am not a proper critic I don’t even write goodreads reviews #I just hate how many people in writing groups dismiss arthuriana out of hand bc the image has been tainted #making anything worthwhile takes work and I wish nepotism in publishing and Hollywood didn’t constantly muck it up #somehow arthurian retellings as a genre is both over saturated and in dire need of a rennaissance #it would seem the public opinion at least in writing groups online is poor #and this is entirely the fault of capitalism #Disney remakes their own films and unpublished writers with money get movie deals for weaksauce stories #if you don’t understand that ‘arthuriana’ is not what you’re writing about you need to take a step back #consider arthuriana the genre as well as the subject #but that is not enough to carry a narrative what are you saying with your work what is the theme what are we exploring #I don’t relate to arthurian characters bc I recognize their names I relate bc of the human condition and struggles even when they shift #from story to story it’s okay if it’s new just COMMIT have some authenticity #nobody wants to show their ass when writing anymore it’s pathetic #put your passions into your work or fuck off #Monty Python set out to highlight the joy of comedy with King Arthur and some coconuts and we loved it #Broaddus wrote about his very personal experiences where he grew up discussed race and wealth disparity thru King Arthur as a gang leader #I’m sold on that bc they cared about making it #anyway I am done lol

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rizumary · 4 years ago

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Akeno Hana woke up in a small hut on the far edge of the forest. There was a castle on the hills; at night, the whale swum above the highest tower and sung a melody that made her heart ache. The forest was empty; the ocean on the sky was serene and blue. She was all alone in this strange world. Then, she dreamt. [Hajime/OC; Medieval AU]

Story by nutteu | Full story on AO3

That night, for the first time since she woke up, the whale didn’t sing. And that night, for the first time since she could remember, she dreamt.

The tavern was loud and full and warm; patrons laughing and chugging their drinks, soldiers resting and chattering with their friends, travellers asking left and right about the town, the bard singing on the corner of the room. It was unbridled with life and sound that Hana was taken aback for a moment. She remembered this tavern; she crossed it on her way to the market. “Hana! The orders for three tables!” she heard someone shouted, startling her as she was the one being addressed. Upon hearing that, she snapped out of her thought and quickly moved to the source of the voice, only to find herself already standing there with trays full of drinks and pies. Hana froze on her track. She wasn’t mistaken. It was herself, with the same hair, and same pale eyes, and the same voice as she laughed and teased the severe looking young man behind the bar. “Come on Kyoutani!” she heard her doppelganger merrily said. “Stop with the sour face, you’re scaring away our customers.” The young man scowled even deeper at her. “I’ll show them scary.” Hana heard the tinkling laughter, and remembered that ever since she woke up, she never laughed. This was the first time she had ever heard herself laugh like that. As the other Hana turned, Hana squeaked and stepped back to avoid her. How could she explain it anyway? Hello, I’m Hana too, I came from another world. She would be burned at the stake in a second with that kind of explanation. But as Hana prepared herself for some sort of explanation regarding her existence, the other Hana went past her. No, went through her, and Hana thought, oh. Was this… a dream? Now that she thought about it, no one around her seemed to notice her as well. And as she attempted to put her hand on someone’s shoulder, it completely went through. She was no more than mere spirit in here. A faint whisper of existence within this strange dream of herself. Was this a memory, or was this a fantasy born from her desire to find someone else in her lonely world? Her train of thought was broken as she heard the sound of tray falling down with a loud clang. On the other side of the room, other-Hana was surrounded by a bunch of nasty looking men. One of them had her hand caught in a grip as he leered at her with unnaturally sharp teeth. “Pretty little thing,” the man growled. “Do you know who you’ve just poured your piss-poor alcohol on? I can have your head on a platter if I wanted to.” “I’m sorry, Sir,” other-Hana said, she was trembling, but she held her ground. “I will make sure to clean your clothes properly, and replace your orders with a new one. So if you would please let me go—“ Hana winced as a loud slap echoed on the room. The rowdy, loud tavern suddenly turned silent. She saw a violently red mark bloomed on her own cheek. Some people gasped, and from the corner of her eyes, she saw Kyoutani along with a stern-looking woman walked to where the commotion was happening. “Don’t you dare talk back to me, you filthy wench!” the man roared, and Hana closed her eyes as his palm raised for the second time. But the sound never came. Instead, there was a deafening silence in the room that she could hear even the breath of people closest to where she was standing. When Hana opened her eyes, there was another man there; clad in armor with chinks on them, holding the brute’s hand with one hand and another holding a sword to his neck. “Let her go,” the man said. His voice was deep, stern, and there was something in it that made Hana inched closer. She felt like there was an unseen string that kept tugging her forward to be closer to this man, just a tad closer. “Gently,” the man added when the brute snarled, “One wrong move and I’ll have your head on a platter. You are creating a ruckus, and threatening the citizen of this kingdom. By the rule of this kingdom, you have to pay a hefty sum for your trouble, as well as serve your time in jail for physically harming an innocent maid. If you tried to retaliate, I am allowed to take out the threat. Which means, you and your pathetic bunch. Let her go.”

There was no mistaking the threat and authority in his voice. The brute growled lowly, but let other-Hana go. The knight glanced at her, who was scrambling away from the both of them. Kyoutani and the older woman were already there. Immediately, Kyoutani took Hana away from the scene while the woman stayed. Her beautiful face was hardening into a severe glare that made Hana’s blood ran cold. She wouldn’t want to get into trouble with this woman.

“Thank you, Hajime,” the woman said. “I can take care of it from here.”

The knight—Hajime, Hana whispered to herself—nodded, and withdrew his sword. The brute snorted and leered at the woman. “You better let your knight here take care of things, woman. What can you do exactly, to take care of—“

Whatever he was about to say, Hana couldn’t hear it. His words were cut off as the woman suddenly, faster than she could see, struck the man with her dainty-looking palm. She didn’t stop there. As soon as the brute recovered, she slapped him again, with enough force to make the man twice her size staggered backward. And then again, when he snarled and lunged to attack. She deflected the attack as easily as blocking off a child; her movements fluid, yet strong.

“You hurt my employees, and I’ll hurt you back ten times more painful than that,” she said when he was struggling on the floor. “You and your disgusting bunch will be banned from this tavern, as well all other taverns I have connection with. I’ll let you go this time, but if you dared to come back, dared to churn up another trouble, I will make sure it will be your last mistake.”

The man looked like he was about to attack again, but the woman whirled on her heel, and knocked him out cold with her boots. There was a loud crack as his head hit the floor. She stared down coldly at his underlings, and they all scrambled off as fast as they could, dragging their boss’ limp body along with them.

“I’ll clean up here,” she then said. “Do me a favor and check on my sweet little things on the back room, will you, Hajime?”

Hajime nodded at her. “Yes, Madam.”

Hana let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The woman seemed to be the owner of this tavern by her words. But she was really strong, and amazing. Hana admired her even if she didn’t remember ever meeting the woman in her life. And the knight seemed to know of her prowess, too, if his respectful behavior was to go with.

Hajime. She tilted her head to the side, and wondered. There was something about him. Was it because he saved her in this dream? No, it wasn’t just that. She was sure, there was something that drew her in to this knight.

She followed him to the back room, where other-Hana was biting her lips to prevent another sob from falling out of her mouth. Her cheek was red, and there was a tinge of blue on the edge of it. The man had slapped her very harshly. It looked like Kyoutani had given her some ointment for it, as well as the bruise on her wrist from where the man had held her. She was sniffling even as Kyoutani sighed and patted her back. He looked awkward and out of place there with his scowling face and kind gesture.

When he noticed Hajime, however, he quickly withdrew his hand and put on a deep frown. As if he was afraid to be caught being soft. Hana chuckled, glad that none of them could hear her. This boy was adorable.

“If you’re here, that old hag is done then,” he said, and walked up to the door. “You take care of this snotty idiot. God knows how many orders are delayed by now.”

With those parting words, he left and Hana stepped closer to the other two in the room. Hajime smiled stiffly at other-Hana, but he kept standing there. She supposed it was hard to crouch with his armor on. Or he just didn’t know whether it was okay to sit next to her. Hana smiled at him; soft, unbidden. Even if she only met him in her dream once, she liked Hajime and his awkwardly sweet behavior already.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Other-Hana nodded, still trying not to cry again. “Y-yes, thank you, Sir. For saving me back there.”

He smiled a little. “You don’t need to call me that. My name is Iwaizumi Hajime, and Madam Li was the one who handled the brute, anyway. You should thank her later; she wiped the floor with his arse. Literally.”

That got a wet chuckle out of other-Hana. She looked up at him, and shyly offered a smile. “Madam Li is amazing, isn’t she? She’s very protective of us, too. I’m very thankful that we’re under her care.”

Hajime nodded to her, and finally, sat next to her on the bench. So it wasn’t the problem in the armor, then. He was just shy and awkward. Hana moved closer to them, to see Hajime’s face more clearly. She wanted to memorize these people’s faces—his, especially. Maybe, maybe, someday she’d meet them in her world if she searched hard enough.

“You’re a very brave girl for standing up to that man, Miss,” he said kindly.

There was a red hue on other-Hana’s face that wasn’t just from the bruise. She looked down, biting her lips to hide a smile. “Thank you. Um—my name is Akeno Hana.”

“Okay, Miss Akeno,” he nodded, took off his glove to offer a hand to her. “It is very nice to meet you.”

She glanced at him, and slowly took the offered hand. “Me, too.”

They were left in silence after that, but neither seemed uncomfortable. Until Hajime stood up and gestured to the door. “I have to go. I have to continue my patrol tonight. I hope you will be alright. Until next time, Miss Akeno.”

Akeno nodded absentmindedly, most probably still dazed from their interaction. When Hajime reached the door, however, she suddenly stood and reached out to him. “Wait! Uh, t-thank you! I will bake you some raspberry pies if you come again. So—so, please come… again…”

The tail of her words was small and hesitant, but Hajime laughed and nodded at her. His smile was warm and his eyes alight as he said, “Well then, I look forward to meeting you again. I will see you soon.”

Akeno’s heart must have been beating as fast as Hana’s right now. That smile, those eyes; Hana felt something that she had never even thought about ever since she woke up alone: affection. Hajime’s smile had swept her off her feet in just one glance, and she felt like she was so light that she could fly off to the ocean sky.

She watched Hajime’s back as he turned, and as soon as the door was closed behind him, her surrounding turned dark and reality pulled her back to her world.

Hana woke up with wonder in her heart, and a hope that warmed the tips of her fingers. Outside of her hut, the forest rumbled gently, and the birds were silent. The whale bellowed its song softly, and Hana felt more alive than she had ever felt since she woke up.

Read the rest here

#Iwaizumi Hajime #knight iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x oc #akeno hana #iwaizumi oneshot #haikyuu

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el-cadejos · 3 years ago

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Hero [fic]

Fandom: Saint Seiya

Characters: Wyvern Radamanthys, Gawain Fallendrake (oc)

AO3

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“So we meet again, you bastard.”

The sky was clear, even though rain would surely pour down during the afternoon. The wind caressed his face with a gentle cold hand.

“I finally made it. I’m a Mechanical Engineer, just like I told you I would,” he announced with an angry tone. “But you weren’t there to see it happen. Every single time, you’re never there!”

Gawain covered his face for a moment, trying to calm down. He remembered all those talks with his father about fixing the old World War II airplane models and opening a small museum. People never get tired of the classics. And it would be theirs. Father and son, cockpit buddies, eternal partners.

That was long ago.

“You were my childhood hero. The strongest fighter. The mightiest warrior. The..-” he choked a bit. “The greatest father”.

He was never a strong child. Sickly to say the least, doomed to define the worst. “Robodork” and other hurtful names rung in Gawain’s ears as he progressed in school. Stairs were an impossible task, and the chair. Sure, it was good to get around, but you can’t chase the dog in a fucking chair.

Yet every night, Father would lie next to him in bed and tell him stories from the Arthurian Legend. The brave Sir Galahad, the mysterious Lady of the Lake and of course, his namesake Sir Gawain. Friend to young knights, a defender of the poor, afflicted with strength that waxed and waned with the sun; his might tripled by noon, but faded as the sun set. That was certainly true for both. Daily life was so tiring that by nightfall, the only thing he wanted to do was dissolve in his bed and not move ever again.

“But you couldn’t stand that, could you?”, he whispered. “You just fucking couldn’t.”

Gawain was not stupid. He was heading straight to his death. And oh, there is irony in death when your uncle rules the Underworld. There wasn’t really anything to be done. His curse was ancient, even though modern science had already found a name for it. He was not going to last past his eighth birthday.

Still, Father kept him company every night until he fell asleep, and Gawain would wake up to faithful Goebbels, the family dog, where his father was before. Just that one morning, it wasn’t so. Father was still there. Very still. So still, that it looked like he was dead.

And he was.

Gawain did not notice at the time, but he was holding himself up without help, trying to wake his Father up. A nudge at first, but full-force punches the moment he noticed no reaction. His screams woke everyone up. Even young Radella drag herself from her bed to see what had happened. Mother was flabbergasted. How could this happen? A healthy man, a Judge of the Underworld, dead outside of battle?

Though no one ever figured out exactly what happened, the effects were obvious at plain sight. Gawain miraculously recovered all his motor functions, and had not felt weakness ever since. Mother threatened every living and dead soul in the Underworld for answers, yet none came. The Heavenly Fierce Star retreated inside the Wyvern Surplice and would remain silent for centuries. Gawain always suspected his godly uncle knew something, but if that was true, he had chosen to keep it to himself.

So here he was, in front of Father’s tombstone.

“I know it pained you to see I would never grow up, and that is why somehow Fate traded me for you. But I will never forgive you choosing me over yourself.”

A few tears rolled down his cheeks. He didn’t bother wiping them out.

“You don’t know how Mother’s heart aged in a span of a few weeks. Or how Rae took it upon herself to try and fill the missing piece in our lives, or how I failed my flying exam thrice because I just couldn’t see the RAF badge without...- Anyway... You will never know, because you let us walk this world alone, without your protection and love. That is why I have to come back home so frequently, to update you on what you can no longer see, but when we meet again, I will punch you up the bracket, you asshole. Don’t fucking think I won’t”.

Gawain left three yellow zinnias next to the tombstone, zipping his father’s old bomber jacket up with one hand and wiping his face with the other. He turned around with one hand in the air.

“Until the next time, you cunt.”

*****************************

Yellow zinnias: Daily Remembrance

#inframundo segun el cadejos #gawain fallendrake #wyvern radamanthys #fic #el cadejos

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jd-arts319 · 4 years ago

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RV:Transformers Brave Watche’s Multiverse AU’s

inspired by xxElementalStormxx story “watch prime mess”

Transformers Braves Multiverse Watches AU’s

Bayformers from Age of Existence (Optimus Prime, Hound, Drift, Grimlock, Crosshair, Hot rod, Bumblebee) along with 07 Ironhide, Jazz and Ratchet. Megatron… Humans Sam, Galloway, Cade, Charlotte, Simmons, Sir Edmund,Will Lenox,Epps,figs Animated – Ultra Magnus, Cliffjumper, Sentential Prime, Jazz, The jet twins, Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Ratchet, Bulkhead, Rodimus Prime, Ironhide,brawn,hot shot,red alert Megatron, Lugnut, Starscream and clones, Skywarp and Thundercracker. Shockwave, Blitzwing, Swindle, Blackarachnia and Cyclonus,cliffjumper, preceptor,botanica. Human Sari Armada – Optimus Prime, Jetfire, Blurr, Hot shot, Overload, Red Alert, Scavenger, Sideswipe and Smokescreen. Galvatron, Cyclonus, Demolisher, Thrust, Ramjet, Wheeljack and Starscream. G1- Optimus Prime, Jazz, Prowl, Ratchet, Ironhide, Bumblebee, Wheeljack, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Grimlock. Megatron, Starscream, Skywarp, Thundercracker, Soundwave. TFP – Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Bulkhead, Arcee, Smokescreen, Wheeljack. Megatron, Starscream, Soundwave, Knockout, Breakdown, Airachnid, Shockwave. Human-Agent Fowler, Jake, Raf and Miko. MTMTE (IDW) – Rodimus Prime, Ultra Magnus, Megatron, Drift and Cyclonus,Ratchet,tailgate,whirl,rung,chromedome,rewind,perceptor,first aid,swerve,windblade, RID: Strongarm, Sideswipe, Drift, Grimlock,windblade, Jetstorm, Slipstream, Fix-it and Steeljaw,thunderhoof.

Human-Russell,Denny

TF!RB-heatwave,chase,blades,& boulder,salvage,blurry,quickshadow,high-tide,mercury(oc)

Humans-burns family

TF!RBA-grimlock & his dinobots,ratchet,whirl,hot shot,medix,wedge,hoist

Humans-Wes,sienna,Renata(both ocs-except Wes)

TF!Cyberverse-all cybertronians

Ocs:Mercury,Skyrunner,CloudCharge,Cicada,stormrunner,retrogade,nanobyte & pixelbyte,amaranthus,remix,niren,renegade

Brave Series

Brave Exkaiser

Humans:kouta & his family,mario,kotomi,takumi,tokuda

Bots,exkaiser,raker brothers,max teams,geisters

Brave fighter of Sun,fighbird

Humans: kenta,haruka,prof.amano,yoshiko,satsuda

Bots:fighbird,baron team,guard team

enemies:drais,dr.jango

Brave Fighter of Legend,Da garn

Humans:Seiji,haruka,their family,the officer,hotaru,yancha

Bots:da garn & earth twins,landers,sabers,ga-ohn,seven changer

enemies(ex.’s):pink,Violecche,red lsone,de butcho,cyan,ohboss

Brave Express of Might Gaine

Humans:maito,hamada,izumi,sally & her lil bro,aoki,wolfgang,Hoi ko low,Catherine V.,shogun Mifune,Joe,purple,exev

Bots:gaine,bombers & Divers team,black gaine

Brave police j decker

Humans:yuuta & his family,his friends,his neighbors,saejima,azuma,regina,Toudou,ayako,seia,ken,neuva,eva

Bots:deckerd,mccrane,dumpson,drillboy,power joe,shadowmaru,kagerou,duke,victim

Brave of Gold Goldran

Humans:takuya,kazumi,dai,sharanla,walter,colonel,serious

bots:dran,Capt.shark,advenger,silver knights,leon,sorakage

King of Braves,GaiGaoGar

Humans:mamoru,gai,mikoto,taiga,swan,Leo,geki,Kosuke,hana & their friends,Ikumi

Bots:galeon,ryuu siblings,volfogg & his team.

Brave commander,Dagwon

Humans:en,Ryu,shin,you,Kai,Maria,gaku & others

Bots:dagwon fire,linear,shadow & lian

Ocs:reiki mitsuko,kotone mitsuko/aquablitz,mitsuki & switchblade,rumiko yukino,neirin suzuki & tsukikage,juniper,sakuya(minerva) & azureblitz,michiru crescente & her bots ryuujin quartet,hiryuu,koryuu,shinryuu,zenith,mitsuki sakimori,inari gozen

__________________

Chapter 1: reactions

A mysterious figure in a darkness approach a crystal ball & starts to chant some odd language & soon 7 portals appear

At the same time…

Bayverse….

Bayverse bots,cons,& humans soon sucked by portal,before even optimus could leave & Galvatron starts running.

Animatedverse

After prowl's funeral,before anyone starts said something,soon they too sucked up,screaming in suprise & panic

Armadaverse

Before starscream sacrifice himself,a bright light blinded them & soon they disappeared in the thin air.

G1verse

A portal appear on the sky on the middle of their battle,some autobots & decepticons we're sucked up soon as well.

TFPverse

Before optimus gone to the well of the all sparks,the well of the all sparks glow brightly that blinded them,that once the light is gone,so do they.

IDWverse

Before the lost light crew even gone back to cybertron,a portal infront of them,& before anyone can calculate what they are seeing,they too soon vanish.

RIDverse

After defeating the council,a portal appears & sucked them at the same time, some of their friends in another place soon too sucked up.

At the astral realms….

All of them from their own universe appears,when they all see each other soon they stood up & ready their weapons but before any can fire,someone come out wearing a cloak,spoke in calm booming voice lined between in male & female.

{"Welcome to the realm of primes...,My name is Ren,some of our…...higher beings had something in their minds…..they wanted to you all watch this… & some time later some of us will asked you a questions….for now let's get into introductions…"

"But for the time being stay in your chambers for each of you & you own alternative counterparts,each chamber has the acronym of your own universe….."}

They heard a clap & everything around turns into a replica of the cyber theater,every bots & cons we're shocked,then a minicon twins came up to them,bearing a zodiac symbol on there foreheads.

"Greetings we are the geminicons,one of the cyber zodiac guardians,today will be your host & we will guide to help you & answer some of your questions"

All looked confuse,some weary or catious,some hostile,but the twins keep on going with calm smile on their face.

"Come & follow us,we will show you around & when you need some questions answered,*holds a small rod with a button* you can call ms.renia,she has all the answers you need to know….well some of them *giggles*"

Soon the two mysterious"geminicons",while remain on guard,as they walked down the hall,many murmur as some couldn't help but feel their sparks in pained as they remember their own home,so fimiliar before the final days of their world.

Later….

In the security room….

Renia,chuckles as she ready her list of movies & videos ready,as she looks at her cameras,she smiles as she sees they are settling in for a bit.

__________________

This had been sitting in my doc Google for awhile,there’ another one but is a rule fic

Fanfic & Reactionverse,Transformers Brave, ocs (c) me

Transformers(any media types) (c) All Spark,paramount,idw publishing

Brave Series (c) Takara;Sunrise

#ocs #transformers #brave series #transfomers-oc #transformers au #brave series au #transformers brave #tfb #originalverse & stableverse #Reactionverse #my au #libraverse

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fallout-lou-begas · 4 years ago

Photo

Elevated Extras: Ranger Ghost Companion

You a Courier? If so, this might be your lucky day...if you don't mind walking a bit and your eyes are good.

(Original sketch by @tarberrymentats / based on the OC Companion Meme by @falloutfandomeventhub / if you borrow this concept please tag it as #fallout elevated extras)

General

Name: Ranger Ghost

Location: Mojave Outpost

How to obtain: Complete the sidequest “Keep Your Eyes on the Prize,” then begin the sidequest “Giving Up the Ghost” to get her reassigned from the Mojave Outpost. Once freed of her assignment, she can travel with the Courier to monitor Legion activity throughout the Mojave.

Companion Quest: “Giving Up the Ghost.”

Ranger Ghost, like everyone else, is sick and tired of being stuck at the Mojave Outpost. Unfortunately, orders are orders. With the courier’s help, though, she just might be able to come down from that rooftop, but dealing with NCR bureaucracy might be a worse ordeal than Legion crucifixion.

Companion Wheel

I think we should travel together. You probably can’t tell, but that’d make me very happy. Let’s get the hell out of here.

Let’s talk about your tactics. Sure. Lecture the ranger on tactics. Go ahead. / What’re you thinking?

I want you to change your combat style. (humoring) Alright. / If you insist.

Use a melee weapon. Close combat, then. / Sure. We can hold their hands and tuck them in while we’re at it. / (Wild Wasteland Enabled) Try to remember the basics of CQC.

Use a ranged weapon. (stating the obvious) It’s what I do. / You going to spot for me? / (deeply sarcastic) Aww. Finally remembered I’m a ranger?

Be passive. Sure, give peace a chance. / Don’t go pacifist on me, now.

Be aggressive: Locked and loaded. / (mocking the company line) Right, and with “extreme prejudice.”

Enough about tactics. Agreed. Anything else? / Are we good, then?

Let’s talk about how close you’re following me. Is there a problem? / What are you...implying, exactly?

Wait here. Right. Things to do, places to be? / Holding down here. / I’ll keep watch here.

Follow me. Let’s roll out. / Finally. Don’t like waiting. / Right. Skip to my fucking lou.

Stay close to me. (sternly cautious) Define “close.” / Got it, on you. / Just don’t bump my gun.

Keep your distance. Positioning, got it. / Yeah, covering you. / (facetious concern) Don’t get lost, now.

Let’s trade equipment. Don’t get fucking handsy, now. / Just don’t hog the ammo.

(Overburdened). I’m not your fucking pack brahmin. / (exasperated) I’ve only got so many pockets.

(Sneaking). Staying low. / (wryly imperative) Quiet, now.

(In Courier’s iron sights). What the fuck is wrong with you? / (slowly, emphasizing) Watch your trigger discipline. / Don’t make me take that away.

(Courier lays mine). I’ve got my eyes on that. / You’d better have a plan for that.

It’s time for us to part ways. It’s because i’m a bitch, isn’t it. / Such sweet fucking sorrow, I bet.

I’d like you to go to the Lucky 38. Hm. Sending the Ghost to the haunted house. See you there. I’ll try not to spook the Securitrons.

We can meet again at the Mojave Outpost. (sucks teeth) Guess I’ll report what I’ve got back to headquarters. Hopefully by now they’ve got someone else watching the brahmins shit full-time.

Injured: (seething) SSShhit. / Didn’t want it like this. / (with conviction) I didn’t get off that roof just to fucking bite it.

Damaged Limb: (shout of pain) Fucker clipped me! / Sure could use a fucking medic.

Regaining Consciousness: What...what the hell happened? / (trailing off) Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck...

Death: (death rattle) / (weakly) Ghosts...can die, huh...ha...

Attributes

Aggression: Aggressive.

Confidence: Brave.

Assistance: Helps friends and allies.

Karma: Neutral.

Perks

Ghost of a Chance: When Ranger Ghost is by your side, so are the odds. In addition to gaining an extra 3% chance to critically hit, any single attack that would kill you may instead leave you just barely alive and invulnerable for a brief moment..

Drops, if killed

Ranger Vest Outfit

Ranger Grey Hat

Authority Glasses

Cowboy Repeater

Combat Knife

Iguana Bits

Grognak the Barbarian

Dialogue, Quest Details, and Ending Slides:

Dialogue

Why do they call you Ghost? What, don’t I scare you? Boo? Nothing? (beat) Well, if you gotta know, it stuck pretty quick back in basic. Not like there were many other albinos in boot camp. The all-white spooky bitch who shoots better at night? Yeah, that’s a ghost, alright. Pissed me off at first, but I came around when it started giving privates the heebie-jeebies. Just a little kick, is all.

What’s an albino? Albinism is a pigment disorder. You know, the color of your skin and hair? As in I don’t have color. Pale as a sheet.

[Medicine 35] A sharpshooter with albinism? Isn’t your vision affected? Done your homework, huh? Well, these big, bad sunglasses aren’t just for intimidation, doc. They only come off when I sleep. Sucks enough being photosensitive in the goddamn desert, but like I said. I’m a lot better at night.

What’s your real name? (the thousandth time she’s answered this exact question) If I told you that, I’d have to kill you.

Aw, come on. Curiosity killed the courier. Don’t push it.

[Speech 40] I’m just trying to understand my partner better. Then “understand” that I don’t owe you shit except loyalty. Just call me Ghost, and you’ll get that.

[Cherchez La Femme] Surely you’ve got a name to match that lovely personality. (flustered) Are you d-...I-...Yeah, I do.But you can just keep calling me Ghost. (quietly) For...for now.

What’s the deal with Ranger Jackson? Man hasn’t got a thought in his fucking head...which is why he’s such a good C.O., from the top down. He’s a nice enough guy on a good day. He’s...principled, for sure. But the man wouldn’t budge on an order from brass if it’d save his life. Stranded caravaneers get so bored and restless because of the impasse he’s overseeing that he’s started (excessive emphasis) “hiring” the rowdier ones for odd jobs off the grounds, which is why we’ve been “losing” supplies for a while. Gets shit done, I guess, but wish he’d show half that drive when bitching to HQ, but no. They tell him to sit tight, he says yes sir, and then he takes it out on us when we get frustrated at the frustrating bullshit.

Do you know Major Knight? (standoffish) Yeah. Good guy. Known him a while. Hell, he’s been at M.O. longer than I have.

What does he do? Repairs, mostly. With all the caravans backed up, we sort of have a monopoly on maintenance and upkeep. And believe me, he does damn fine work.

[Confirmed Bachelor] Is he...you know…? Is he...oh. Between you and me? Yeah. He and I are...alike. I mean, I’m the bitch everybody hates, so I don’t really give a shit, but beneath that…(thinking how best to describe him, ribbing him a bit)...accountant exterior of his, he’s really the soft, sensitive type. Needs someone to talk to sometimes. I’m that someone, sometimes, but if you get the chance...it’d do him good just to know he’s not that alone out here.

How can I best use your skills? Hard to find a way that’d be worse than all the wasted time at M.O., but I’ll make it easy for you: give me a target and let me shoot it. If it’s too close to shoot, I’m trained in hand-to-hand, and if it’s too far to shoot, it’ll never see me coming. Standard repertoire for a ranger.

What’s your opinion on the NCR? High enough to keep me enlisted, low enough to where I’ve got plenty to mock. We’re a good country, a damn good country. We’re the only real country actually left in the West. We’d be the best thing to ever crawl out of the bombed-out ruins of this war if it weren’t for all the bureaucratic bullshit, and the brass getting duller the higher you go. It’s all just song and dance and sloganeering to them out here. Whatever looks good on paper. They don’t give a shit what really happens to people out here, and if Caesar doesn’t kill us, that might. At least on the inside.

What’s it like being a ranger? Ranger training is the best, most brutal gauntlet this side of the Colorado. Hours and hours of days and days spent shooting, drilling, fighting, bringing the body to its breaking points, pouring blood and sweat just to get an inch past the wide-eye hopefuls who were always going to just wash out...and all of it just to stand on a fucking rooftop staring at ants and malnourished raiders on the interstate. I swear, if you gave headquarters a golden egg, they’d fucking cook it.

Were you at the battle of Hoover Dam? Was going to be, but believe it or not, I sat out sick. Got the fucking flu right before and was stuck at McCarran the whole time, half-lucid. Let me tell you, the whole tent of coughs and sneezes crowding around that radio, listening to the reports...when Hanlon ordered that retreat out of Boulder City, we were grabbing our rifles and getting ready to march out on foot, even if we could barely stand. We thought that was it. Of course, it wasn’t, and we cheered so loud when they radioed about the explosion that I hope Caesar damn well heard it.

Do you wish that you had been there? Of course I do. If I miss the next one because I’m stuck at the Outpost or some shit, I’m deserting with a dozen fed-up caravaneers to flank his fucking fort myself, if only for some goddamn excitement.

How do you feel about the Legion? Love ‘em. Joined the NCR because I just wanted to meet them that bad. Their new Legate’s such a heartthrob, I hear.

You’re not serious. (sucks teeth, deep sigh) Look. You saw Nipton. It was just a taste of what they do. I’ve seen good men die on crosses, and that’s a mercy compared to the good women. I hear when women sign up now, they get about five extra “are you sures?” from recruiters. Not officially, of course. Brass would never let people back home know how bad it is. But it’s just another thing that makes me glad I’m a sniper, sometimes. Engage at range. Out of reach.

What about Legion society? Do you know anything about life across the river? There’s nothing across that river. Nothing. (beat, pondering) Do you remember the Enclave War? Bitter, bloody, big explosion at Navarro? And the Brotherhood campaign out here? Even worse of a shitshow, but still, we won that out, too. But the Enclave and the Brotherhood at least stood for something. They were societies, or at least promises of one, and if things had shaken out the other way for the NCR at least something would still be standing here. The Legion isn’t like that. They aren’t “something.” They’re one big razor across Arizona, shaving everything down. And if we don’t stop them here, we never will.

What about their Legate? (with contempt) Lanius, “The Monster of the East.” Caesar must’ve plucked him out of hell or something after his first legate blew it at Hoover Dam. Word from recon is that the only reason we’re all still twiddling our thumbs there is that he’s out making friends for Caesar someplace, and he’ll be bringing them all back for a whole ‘nother goddamn jamboree soon. (tension broken by a funny thought; spoken dryly) Or should I say a Damboree. Since it’d be at the Dam.

Do you know anything about Mr. House? No. Closest I’ve ever been to the Strip has been McCarran, where I was too proud to get wasted on expensive booze in the casinos. As punishment, I got stuck with nothing to do but get shitfaced on cheap booze at the outpost. All I know is Mr. House runs the whole Strip himself, and there’s one casino, the Lucky 36 or something, that’s supposed to be all his. No one’s allowed in, no one’s ever come out. Frankly? Just strikes me as fucking weird.

Companion Quest: Giving Up the Ghost

After completing the sidequest “Eyes On the Prize” (in which the Courier checks Nipton for survivors), Ghost will remark that the Mojave’s going to hell, and all she can do is sit and watch. The Courier will reply that she ought to stop watching and travel with them, to which she’ll respond that her orders are absolute—but if the courier can change her orders somehow, she’d be indebted. The quest then begins.

= = = Stage 1: Deal with Jackson = = =

First, the Courier must speak to Ranger Jackson and convince him to consider Ghost’s reassignment. They can do this through the following dialogue options:

[Speech 80] This outpost is just waiting to be overrun by Legion. You’ll be the next Nipton unless you’re proactive.

[Speech 55; completed “Can’t You Find It In Your Heart” beforehand] Maybe I could tell your superiors about where I “found” these “lost” supplies, then.

[Barter 80] Ghost is an exceptional asset to the rangers. Stationing her here is a waste of valuable NCR resources.

[NCR Fame] There’s work to be done for the NCR out there, and Ghost is who I trust to do it with me.

[Black Widow] I’ve ways of making men come around...especially handsome men in uniform. (The Courier must then sleep with Ranger Jackson)

Note that the Courier can not simply complete the quest “Can’t You Find It In Your Heart?” as a favor to Jackson for Ghost’s reassignment. While he’ll let a caravaneer go, it’ll take more than clearing some ants from the road to get him to compromise his standing force and let go of a ranger.

Alternatively, Jackson’s death will advance the quest.

Kill Jackson. Similar to Cass’ companion quest, Jackson can simply be killed. However, Ghost is far less sympathetic to this course of action and will confront the Courier over the murder. If Jackson is simply killed, the Courier will either need a convincing alibi [Speech 90] to argue that they weren’t responsible or admit to the murder. If the Courier fails the Speech check or admits to the murder, Ghost will turn hostile (“Maybe you didn’t fucking think this through, but do you know what we call someone who kills an NCR ranger? An enemy of the NCR rangers. Now, eat shit.”). Alternatively, the Courier can intimidate Ghost into silence with a [Terrifying Presence] option, after which a shaken but seething Ghost will simply ask the Courier to leave the outpost and never come back. Passing the Speech check is the way to not fail the quest from this option.

Kill Jackson and frame Cass. If the Courier kills Jackson themself, attempting to loot Jackson’s body will trigger a message suggesting that they could frame Cass for the murder by splashing whiskey on the body (so long as Cass is not currently the player’s companion and is currently at the Mojave Outpost, not the Lucky 38). By adding a whiskey bottle to Jackson’s body without themself or the body being discovered in the meantime, they can successfully implicate Cass for the murder, and explain as much to Ghost. She’ll buy it, since Cass was one of the most frustrated residents of the outpost and was drunk almost all the time. Cass will then disappear from the game, and if Lacey, Major Knight, or Ghost (if the Courier left the outpost before speaking to her again) are asked, they will explain that Cass was arrested by the NCR.

Have someone else kill Jackson. A desperate, fed-up caravaneer named Paul by the brahmin pens is willing to kill Jackson for 5,500 caps. This price can be negotiated down to 4,000 with a [Barter 60] check, and 3,500 with [Barter 75]. At midnight that night, Paul will attempt to sneakily kill Jackson. Alternatively, Paul can be incensed into attacking Jackson immediately and for free with a [Hot Blooded] trait check. In either case, though, there is no guarantee that Paul will succeed, and if Paul is killed then the Courier must advance the quest another way (though they can loot their spent caps from Paul’s body). When spoken to afterwards, Ghost will remark that she saw the Courier speaking to Paul and ask if they had anything to do with it. By passing a [Speech 50] check, the Courier can convincingly lie that they were trying to talk him out of it. With either the [Black Widow] or [Cherchez la Femme] perks, the Courier can lie and say that Paul very foolishly did it to try to impress them. With [Low Intelligence] the Courier can earnestly say that they thought “taking care” of Jackson meant doing something nice for him.

Somehow allow Jackson to die. If Jackson just somehow dies in an unaccounted way, such as from a spawned-in deathclaw eviscerating him in his own office, Ghost will remark on the strangeness of the situation but won’t blame the Courier. This is a failsafe option to prevent quest breakage.

= = = Stage 2: Find a Replacement = = =

If Jackson is alive, he’ll agree with the Courier that he ought to let Ghost go, but he’s still under orders to maintain a standing force at Mojave—a standing force which includes a highly trained sniper. If Jackson has been killed, Ghost will mention that Major Knight is next in command and would be glad to give her clearance, but that he won’t be able to do so without a replacement sniper, either. Either way, the Courier is tasked with finding a suitable replacement. The Courier can ask her for advice:

Who should I look for to be your replacement? They have to be NCR, obviously. Ex-NCR might work, too, so long as they’re in good standing. Any Dick or Jane off the road is a no-go, since brass put the kibosh on officially contracting mercenaries. Oh, and anyone you get would have to be well-trained. Not necessarily a ranger, but good enough to replace one, even for a sit-on-the-shitter job like this. Only the best and brightest get to stare at this fucking road all day, apparently.

Where should I look for your replacement? If you checked out some of the ranger stations around the Mojave, they might be able to move some people around. Hell, take it all the way to McCarran if you want, or with Hanlon. If you’re going to give them shit on my behalf, by all means, go nuts. A lot of higher-ups can be greased with enough favors, anyway. Whoever you get just needs the right credentials. Legion attacks get dragged asses and twiddled thumbs, sure, but bad paperwork would set a goddamn fire at headquarters.

The following characters can be recruited as the Mojave Outpost’s new watch:

A generic ranger. By speaking to the commanding officers of at least three of the NCR ranger camps across the Mojave with sufficient [NCR Fame], the Courier can speak to Chief Hanlon to arrange for Ghost’s replacement with a generic ranger. This option is impossible if “Return to Sender” has already been completed.

Craig Boone. If the Courier has completed “I Forgot to Remember to Forget” in a way that makes Boone repentant over his past, he can be persuaded to take over Ghost’s position as a good way to put his skills to use. Otherwise, he will refuse, either preferring to stay in Novac where he lived with Carla or not wanting to be stuck as a watchman again when he could be out killing Legionnaires. If selected, Boone’s home marker will change from Novac to the Mojave Outpost.

Manny Vargas. Novac’s other sniper can be convinced to take up Ghost’s post, but only if the Courier has completed “One For My Baby,” “Come Fly With Me,” and eradicated the Legion presence from Nelson. Once convinced that Novac seems safe, for now, he’ll be willing to reenlist if paid a generous salary. The Courier can either pay Manny 5,000 caps to reenlist now, pass a [Barter 65] check to explain that it’s a provisional reenlistment and reduce their bribe to 3,000, or if the Courier has already passed the [Confirmed Bachelor] check in dialogue with Knight, they can tell Manny about the cute little major sitting behind the desk all day there by his lonesome. Once convinced, Manny will relocate to the Mojave Outpost and take Ghost’s place.

Bryce Anders. This keen-eyed ranger can be recruited to Ghost’s position if he is rescued from the Vault 3 Fiends by the Courier. Once spoken with in Camp McCarran, the Courier can explain that the Mojave Outpost needs a new ranger stationed there. He will defer to Colonel Hsu’s authority on reassignments, and with a successful [Speech 60], [Medicine 40], or [NCR Fame] check, Hsu will agree to the reassignment on the grounds that it’s a useful position still sedentary enough to not complicate the ranger’s recovery.

Little Buster. The listless bounty hunter at Camp McCarran is looking for another career path and would be willing to take over Ghost’s do-nothing position. However, the only way to recruit him is to fabricate both credentials and enlistment records by either stealing personnel files from either Colonel Hsu’s office at Camp McCarran or from the filing cabinets at Camp Golf, or speaking to Daniel Contreras, who “knows a guy” who’ll take care of it if the Courier has already acquired access to Contreras' expanded inventory by siding with him in the unmarked quest “Dealing with Contreras.”

Private Halford. The sole survivor of Camp Guardian mentions that he wants to head back home through Mojave Outpost after being rescued from the mirelurk caves, at which point the Courier can mention no one is allowed to leave through there, and ask if he’d like to take Ghost’s position there instead. At first he’ll refuse, but with a [Speech 45] or [NCR Fame] check he can be convinced that a quiet, do-nothing watch assignment would be a lot better than anything else after what happened at Camp Guardian, to which he’ll agree. He will also relocate to the Mojave Outpost after being freed anyway, getting stuck like everyone else so that the speech check can be re-attempted. However, Halford isn’t considered well-trained enough for a ranger’s job. The Courier must speak to Jackson (or Knight, if Jackson is dead) and pass a [Speech 80] or [NCR Fame] check to make a strong endorsement, or a [Survival 55] check to explain how impressive it is that he survived an attack from so many mirelurks. Alternatively, the Courier can fabricate impressive enough credentials through the options required to assign Little Buster.

Once Ghost’s replacement has been assigned to the Mojave Outpost, the Courier only needs to speak to Ghost again. She will explain that she’s been “reassigned” to open patrol across the Mojave, ostensibly to track Legion activity, so long as she does so with the Courier. She also gains an additional dialogue option dependent on your choice of replacement:

What do you think of your replacement?

(Generic ranger) For this job? Any ranger’s as wasted as any other. I almost feel bad, I doubt she’ll like that fucking roof any more than I did...almost feel bad. Doesn’t quite cancel out the relief.

(Boone) First recon is one hell of a pull. Took right to it, too, like he was already used to it. Strikes me as the...quiet, contemplative type. Likes to think. Not much else to do up there, anyway. I bet those brahmin pins have never felt safer.

(Manny) First recon is one hell of a pull. Took right to it, too, like he was already used to it. Seems like a nice enough guy, and seems to be getting along with Major Knight. Hell, you love to see it.

(Bryce) A good man. Heard about what the Fiends did to him, and after all that, he certainly deserves a break. Didn’t think of this shit job as much of a vacation before, but seems like it’ll do him good.

(Buster) Not sure where the hell you found this guy, but if (Jackson / Knight) gave the okay, then...okay. I would’ve put a goddamn brahmin in a beret up there if it could have gotten me another assignment.

(Halford) The mirelurk guy? Yeah, he seems alright. I’ve never actually seen a mirelurk, but after hearing his story, I don’t think I want to. I didn’t even know we had a camp that far up there.

Speaking to Ghost after her replacement takes her position completes the quest, and from then on, she can now be recruited as a companion. However, similar to Boone, she will only remain the Courier’s companion if they maintain good reputation with the NCR, and as an active-duty ranger, her intolerance for anti-NCR actions is even more strict.

Ending Slides

If "Giving Up the Ghost” is started, but never completed:

NCR Victory. Ranger Ghost remained at Mojave Outpost, dutifully, thanklessly, and restlessly. When the rangers there received word that the Legion had made their move on the dam, the entire outpost went silent. Waiting. From her rooftop perch, at least she was the first to see the bearer of good news come up the road. In the moment, at least, it was worth everything to be there.

Legion, House, or Independent Victory. Ranger Ghost remained at Mojave Outpost, dutifully, thanklessly, and restlessly. When the rangers there received word that the Legion had made their move on the dam, the entire outpost went silent. Waiting. From her rooftop perch, she was the first to see the NCR’s retreat, as civilians and troopers alike began fleeing through the Long 15. She was right: this whole time, all she could do was watch.

Ghost is dead. Ghost, bitterly, died as she lived...(deep sigh) at the Mojave fucking Outpost.

If “Giving Up the Ghost” is completed:

NCR Victory: When legionnaires by the score descended upon Hoover Dam, Ghost was proud to have been one of the many rangers in the battle that kicked their shit in back across the Colorado. She celebrated with the rest of them, even a smile creeping onto her face every now and then. Still, Ghost returned to business before long, as part of a squad out East tracking down the straggling remnants of Caesar’s retreating Legion.

Legion Victory: Ghost was among the many rangers who fought at Hoover Dam, but when the army of legionnaires led by the Courier, to whom she owed her very presence there, proved unstoppable, she was ultimately among its many casualties. Their advance was too sudden, too overwhelming, for a clean evacuation, and a grisly duel with a centurion trapped her near the front. Still, the Legion never took Ghost alive. She made sure of it.

House or Independent Victory: The arrival of the Securitrons at Hoover Dam was a surprise to every NCR trooper stationed there, including Ghost. Their sudden turn against the NCR, and their allegiance to the Courier, even more so. The triumph of vanquishing the Legion was short-lived, then, as Ghost joined the forced retreat, one pale face in a sea of many.

Ghost is dead: Despite her name, there was no supernatural flourish when Ghost died. She simply died like a ranger, fighting to the end. That’s all that mattered.

(Bonus) Cass’s Ending Slide if the Courier frames her for the murder of Jackson:

Rose of Sharon Cassidy spent all of her time at the Mojave Outpost in a drunken stupor, which is why when Major Knight oversaw her arrest for the murder of Ranger Jackson, it took so long to get exonerated. By the time the alibi was pieced together and the evidence was admitted as circumstantial, the battle of Hoover Dam shifted NCR’s attention elsewhere, and the crime was never solved. For a few months in the clink, though, at least Cass got what she wanted: home, and finally away from the outpost.

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #ranger ghost #art #fallout elevated extras #elevated extras #from me

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emachinescat · 4 years ago

Text

Knock

A Merlin Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 10 - “I’m sorry, I didn’t know”

Summary: It is common knowledge in Camelot that one should never, under any circumstances, enter Sir Owen’s chambers without knocking. Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell Prince Arthur’s new servant.

Characters: Merlin, Arthur, Sir Owen (OC)

Words: 4,618

TW: PTSD episode/flashback

Note: Early days for our boys. :)

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, pease consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging, and you can follow me for more content like this!

Everyone in Camelot knew about Sir Owen, and everyone who had met him loved him. He was an old warrior, a man of honor and valor with a keen sense for battle and a veritable treasure trove of wisdom. He was old and gray now, and limped from the festering aches of old battle wounds, but he always had a smile and time to chat with anyone he met, nobles and servants alike. After he had retired from knighthood, Uther had awarded him quarters in the castle and a life of luxury.

The kind old man received regular visitors to his spacious rooms and always gladly welcomed them. Lady Morgana brought him a vase of flowers every week, new knights would often visit for advice and encouragement, many of the maids would stop for quick chats between chores, and Gaius brought him his medicine for his old battle wounds and nightmares every evening before bed. Once or twice the king himself had been seen visiting his old friend, and he too always departed with a smile.

There was something that every one of Sir Owen’s many admirers and visitors knew, however, and honored without compromise: Never, under any circumstances, should you enter Sir Owen’s chambers without knocking.

More specifically, no one should enter his chambers without loudly and clearly announcing themselves first – a light, polite knock wouldn’t do, especially not now that he had lost all his hearing in one ear, with the other ear quickly following suit. You had to knock loudly and aggressively, and if he still didn’t hear you, then you had to proclaim yourself as loudly as possible when you eased the door open to peek in. Ultimately, the last thing anyone wanted to do was to sneak up on the beloved Sir Owen, because if he was taken off guard, if he thought he was being ambushed, he became a completely different person.

Sir Owen had fought valiantly for Camelot for many decades, and in that time he saw horrors of battle and the worst of humanity. He’d been gravely injured protecting his fellow knights on no less than three occasions, the final of which had forced him to hang up his chainmail for good. And though he was a perfectly pleasant gentleman when he was in his right mind, in those moments of fear and panic – like when he thought he was being snuck up on or ambushed – he shifted back into the fearsome warrior who had felled scores of Camelot’s enemy’s over the years. And though he was old, he was still strong for his age, and crafty, and his confusion only fueled the desperate strength within him.

Sadly, his moments of lucidity had declined rapidly in recent days, and sometimes he struggled to remember who was his enemy and who was his friend during normal, mundane conversations. He only became violent when he was scared or surprised, however, which was what made announcing one’s presence of the utmost importance when calling upon him.

Every servant in Camelot knew this, as did all the knights and nobles who paid him regular visits. Well – all of the servants except for Merlin, Prince Arthur’s new manservant, who had just been ordered by his prince to go to Sir Owens’ chambers to escort the man to the training grounds. Arthur had asked him to oversee the newest recruits on this crisp autumn morning, and to his delight, the old knight, who had been staying in more often than not, had agreed to do just that. Merlin was happy to have a job other than hefting all of Arthur’s heavy equipment to the training grounds on his own (and all in one go, because Arthur was too impatient to allow Merlin to make multiple trips and very clearly cared nothing for Merlin’s well being in the slightest).

Merlin had never met Sir Owen before but knew that he was a bit of a legend around the castle. He’d heard whispers of some of the brave deeds and epic battles the man had fought in Camelot’s first days. He also knew Morgana brought him flowers to brighten up his chambers, and that he was supposed to be a very kind man with great advice and a smile that would brighten every room. Sir Owen sounded a positive delight, and Merlin had jumped at the opportunity to fetch him for Arthur so that he could meet this amazing man for himself. He sounded like a breath of fresh air in the stuffy citadel – but then again, most anyone who wasn't the prince of Camelot could claim that title, in Merlin's book.

Although Merlin had never been good at the niceties of court when dealing with Arthur, he did make it a priority to remember to knock if he were at anyone else’s door – as Gaius had told him on many occasions, if he just barged into the wrong person’s chambers, he could be in trouble so deep that even Gaius couldn’t bail him out. And so, when he reached the old knight’s chamber door, Merlin made a point to reach out his fist and give a few hearty knocks on the door.

No answer.

Merlin waited a short time before knocking again, but again, no one answered. Pressing his ear against intricately carved wood, he thought could hear something from inside of the room – a faint shuffling, as if someone were moving around. The warlock shifted anxiously on his feet, warning bells clanging in his head. If someone was in the room, why didn’t they answer the door? At the very least, why did the person not call out? Merlin could only think of two possibilities: Either the person in the room could not answer, or was not supposed to be there. Either way, something was off, and Merlin had to check and make sure the old man he was meant to fetch was okay.

Merlin tried the door – locked – and, glancing over his shoulder to make sure he was alone, directed a pointed stare at the lock, felt the heat of magic swell within him, and heard the rewarding clunk as the door unlocked itself. Quietly, Merlin eased the door open and peered inside, looking for any sign of trouble. “Sir Owen?” His calm, quiet voice contradicted the furious beat of his heart, that instinct that warned him of danger.

No one seemed to be in the room that the wary servant could see, so Merlin inched his way further inside, taking in the elegant but sparse furnishings, the headless training dummy in old old but obviously well-cared for armor, and the weapon rack mounted on the wall that seemed to be missing its occupant. “Sir Owen?” Merlin called again, this time a little louder.

He didn’t even have time to turn when he heard the quiet rush of footsteps from behind. The next thing he knew, Merlin was facedown on the warm woolen rug that spanned much of the stone floor, the breath completely knocked out of him. Pain lanced through his upper back, sparking like lightning between his shoulder blades. Something had hit him – hard – and Merlin’s instincts warned him that whoever it was that had attacked him wasn’t done.

Only sheer force of will allowed the warlock to heave himself over on his back just in time to see Sir Owen himself, with his normally friendly, laugh-lined face twisted into a ferocious mockery of itself, gray hair come loose from its tie, and a hefty longsword, dulled with age but still deadly, brandished in his right hand. Merlin noticed that the sword, and the hand that held it, shook slightly moments before the old man – still in incredible shape for his age, as Merlin’s screaming back proved clearly! – lunged again, this time with the point of the blade and not the flat.

Merlin rolled to the side, lungs still heaving for air after being winded by Owen’s first hit, and the point of the sword cut a frayed line in the rug right where Merlin’s head had been. Struggling to his feet, the disoriented servant tried to appeal to the knight’s sensibilities; he gasped, “Sir Owen! I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Another swing of the sword, and Merlin ducked out of the way in the nick of time. “I did knock!” he insisted.

Sir Owen’s eyes, Merlin noticed, were clouded, and when the man spoke, it became obvious that he was seeing a completely different scene than what was actually going on around him. Somehow, it seemed, he thought he was back on the battlefield, fighting a deadly opponent, instead of cornering a frightened servant who had done nothing to harm him. “I won’t let you do it!” the man roared, and his voice cracked under the pressure of the rage and sorrow. “You killed my men – you take no one else!”

He advanced again, this time slowly, methodically, and Merlin backed away at the same pace, all too aware of the corner he was trapping himself in but afraid to bolt and frighten his confused aggressor into doing something he’d later regret. Raising his hands, Merlin spoke like he was addressing a small animal or a frightened child, “Sir Owen, my name is Merlin. I’m Prince Arthur’s servant. He sent me here to fetch you for the –”

He was cut off as Owen slashed forward with the sword unexpectedly, and this time Merlin wasn’t quite fast enough. Even the dulled edge was enough to slice through Merlin’s shirt and into his upper arm, and fire erupted in the wound. Blood, warm and sticky, oozed from the cut and meandered down his arm. He ignored it, more focused on staying alive.

“Liar! Traitor! Murderer!”

Merlin didn’t want to use magic on Sir Owen – from what he’d heard, the man was a genuinely good person, though something seemed very wrong with him now. On top of that, if he realized that his opponent had used magic after the fact, Merlin would be killed anyway. But the idea of being run through with a dull sword was so unpleasant that Merlin decided to take the risk. He turned to run from the next attack, allowed his eyes to flash gold, and heard his pursuer curse as his weapon somehow tumbled from his hands and skittered across the room. Hopefully, if he remembered this at all, he would put it down to losing his grip.

Now that the sword was out of the picture, Merlin felt a bit safer, but he couldn’t decide if he should try to help Sir Owen himself or run to get someone else instead. His choice was taken away from him, though, because he hesitated a second too long – in the time that Merlin had been debating his next course of action, the keen knight had made up his mind and charged bravely into battle. Sir Owen was the kind of warrior who would continue to fight with his bare hands against an entire heavily armed battalion until the very end. He never gave up, never let a little thing like losing a sword stop him.

And so he charged.

To Merlin, it was like Arthur’s prized steed had barreled straight into him, such was the force with which Sir Owen slammed against him. For the second time in ten minutes, the wind was driven out of him from the force of the blow, and he sprawled, stunned, on the chamber floor, his head rapping painfully against the stone.

Bright lights flickered in his field of vision and he tried desperately to get his body to move, but his arms and legs weren’t listening. He watched as the old knight, fury in his dark eyes, approached him, having abandoned the sword all together now that his enemy lay helpless at his feet. Merlin should have been glad that he wasn’t using the sword, but he had a very unpleasant feeling that Owen did not need a weapon to kill.

Seconds later, his unprotected side exploded in agony as Sir Owen drove his boot forward in a merciless kick. Afraid to use his magic again, forgetting everything but his basest instincts to survive, Merlin curled in on himself, nearly crying out at the pain the movement caused him. Another kick, this one to his back, and Merlin rolled away the best he could, panting in pain. Halfway to his feet, on hands and knees, almost there –

Another kick, this one to his gut, and he gagged, falling forward, face-first onto the floor. Blood welled up in his mouth – he must have bitten his tongue.

Merlin scrabbled for purchase on the cold stone, trying to regain his bearings even as every part of his body rebelled against him. He felt the man’s toe beneath his torso and sucked in a painful breath, but this time, all Owen did was flip him over. Merlin lay on his back, breath wheezing from his chest, and he was sure he had a broken rib, maybe more. Slowly, deliberately, like he had all the time in the world at his disposal, the old man knelt next to his fallen foe and leaned in close. Merlin could smell breakfast on his breath – the stink of aged cheese mingled with the sweetness of fruit – as he man hissed, “You’ll die for this – sorcerer!”

Fear crescendoed, overshadowing the symphony of pain, as Merlin realized that somehow, Sir Owen had figured out what he had done, what he was. Helplessness took hold of the warlock. It didn’t matter if he survived this encounter – which was looking less likely by the second, unless he used his magic again – his life in Camelot was over. Might as well use his magic to escape. The giant lizard was wrong, then. It couldn't be his destiny to serve Arthur and bring magic and peace to Albion. He would be on the run for the rest of his life.

Merlin focused on his magic through the pain and felt it rise within him. It slipped out of his grasp as something latched onto his hair and dragged his head up. Merlin got a single look up close at Sir Owen’s eyes, filled with the kind of suffering no sword could inflict, brimming with regrets and hatred and death, before the man slammed the back of Merlin’s head into the ground. A flash of white light – intense pain, swirling darkness.

Merlin may have blacked out for a few seconds, but it couldn’t have been long, because when he regained a semblance of awareness – he couldn’t move, so much pain, vision blurred, he was going to be sick – Sir Owen had retrieved his sword and had it poised over his helpless victim’s heart. “Rot in hell, sorcerer,” he spat, and Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, partly against the pain, mostly in preparation for death.

A voice sounded from somewhere close by, first annoyed, then panicked: “What the hell is taking so long Merlin? I– what – NO!”

The fear in the last word, unexpected and guttural as it was, was enough to convince Merlin to open his eyes. Through the haze his vision had become, he saw a red and gold blur tackle Sir Owen, heard through ringing ears the sound of a brief struggle and the angry accusation “Sorcerer!” and then there was someone kneeling over him again, and Merlin struggled to sit up, to get away. He managed to turn over just in time to vomit all over Prince Arthur’s clean boots.

To his surprise, the prince didn’t yell or order him to scrub them again, right then and there. Instead, with surprisingly gentle hands, the man eased his servant back onto the ground and began checking him for injuries.

“You idiot,” Arthur said as he probed the back of Merlin’s head, eliciting a cry of pain and frowning at the blood staining his fingertips. He moved on to check Merlin’s ribs (“Three broken, at the very least, but we’ll have Gaius look at you.”) and arm. “It’s fairly shallow,” he said, and Merlin thought he must have been giddy with pain and exertion at this point, because it sounded like the prince was actually relieved. Arthur stood, stepped out of his boots with a grimace, and ordered, “Stay there. I mean it – don’t move. I’ve subdued Sir Owen for the moment, but he needs Gaius.” A deep crevice between his brows, the prince added, “And so do you. You’re a mess.”

Merlin didn’t hear if Arthur said anything else after that. He didn’t even see the prince leave the room. The darkness had claimed him by then, wrapping its welcoming arms of comfort around him and staving off, if only for a little while, the pain and the fear of what was to come.

***

When he awoke, it was in his own bed, in his room, and he was alone. Merlin’s head hurt more than he could ever remember it doing before – even more than the time he and Will had climbed on top of his roof and he’d fallen through the thatch. He’d smacked his head on the kitchen table when he’d landed on it, but the pain he’d been in had been nothing compared to his mother’s wrath. Now, though, it was not an ache or even bursts of sharp pains – it was like a drum, and every beat increased the agony he felt. It was the kind of headache that turned your stomach against you, too, and made the world around you lose its crisp edges and stole your ability to concentrate on even the most simple of tasks. His arm, now bandaged, stung fiercely, and the gnawing ache in his ribs turned into a cacophonous mass of torment any time he thought of moving.

So he didn’t move. He lay there, head pounding, body hurting like he had been run over by a horse, and allowed his mind to wander, though with the headache he had, he really did not have much control over the direction of his thoughts, anyway. In the end, every wandering pathway of his consciousness, every thought and question and memory, all led back to the terrifying realization that Sir Owen had seen his magic – somehow – and had probably already told Arthur and the king. Any moment now, guards would barge into his room and throw him into a cold, dark cell. Or maybe they’d skip the cell all together and toss him on a pyre. They wouldn’t even have to tie him to it. He was too weak to move.

The door opened, and Merlin jumped in a mixture of surprise and terror. Even the small movement caused all of his injuries to flare up and he slumped back, face beaded with sweat, panting in exhaustion and pain, waiting for the inevitable and wondering if he should try to fight back with magic since his secret was already out anyway.

It was good that he didn’t, because it was Arthur who entered, and he was alone, and there was a strange look on his face – if Merlin didn’t know better, he would have said it was somewhere between worried and guilty, with a healthy dose of discomfort sprinkled in for good measure. “Merlin,” the prince said in surprise, and it occurred to Merlin that he hadn’t expected his servant to be awake yet. Arthur stayed in the doorway, uncertainty rolling off of him in waves. “I – Gaius stepped out for a moment, to check up on Sir Owen. He’s been in quite a state, really disoriented and worried that he hurt you badly.”

Merlin frowned, and even that hurt. “Gaius?”

Arthur stared at Merlin like he’d grown another head. “No, you moron. Sir Owen. He feels terrible about what happened.”

Perhaps it was the head injury, but Merlin found himself thoroughly confused. “So… you’re not here to arrest me?” He could hear the slur in his own words and realized that he probably looked as bad as – if not worse than – he sounded. Arthur appeared to be as baffled as Merlin. He finally moved beyond the arch of the door and into the room, awkwardly taking a seat in Merlin’s chair, near the bed.

“Why would I be here to arrest you?” His blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What did you do this time?”

“Uh, Sir Owen, he said…” Merlin’s thoughts were as fuzzy as his sight, and he felt that distinctive curdling in his stomach that told him he was going to be decorating Arthur’s shoes again very shortly. Arthur must have seen that tell-tale paling of the face and whitening of the knuckles, because moments later, a bucket had been shoved under his nose and he threw up into it, vaguely surprised that there was anything left to expel. Arthur had produced a cup of water from somewhere, and when Merlin finished, the prince helped him take a sip. The water was bliss, cooling his raw throat and chasing away the sour taste in his mouth.

Nausea under control for the moment, Merlin cleared his throat uncomfortably, not meeting Arthur’s eye after the strangely intimate moment (if he had been looking, he would have seen Arthur studiously avoiding his gaze as well). Merlin picked up where he’d left off, his voice cracked and timid. “Sir Owen called me a sorcerer.” Arthur did look at him now, Merlin felt his eyes, but the warlock didn’t reciprocate. Instead, in a rush, he said, “If he told you that, you have to understand–”

“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice held no malice, only concern and a heaviness that the servant did not understand. “You don’t have to explain to me that you’re not a sorcerer. Yes, Sir Owen said something about it when I was pulling him off of you, but I know he was confused.”

Cautiously, Merlin pressed, “How do you know?”

Arthur laughed, a harsh, clipped sound. “Are you saying that you are a sorcerer?”

Merlin’s stomach flipped over on itself. “No,” he lied, not sure why he had even mentioned Sir Owen’s accusation in the first place. He was making himself look more suspicious; it was just hard to control what came out of his mouth – harder than usual, anyway. “I just want to know why you believe me over a respected former knight.” There. That was reasonable, right? Merlin’s head ached, and he just wanted to go back to sleep, but he had to know, had to have some kind of concrete assurance before he could rest.

Arthur sighed. That same weight tugged at the next words he said: “Sir Owen… he was a great knight, and incredibly brave and strong – still is, for that matter–”

“You can say that again,” Merlin muttered, wincing.

Arthur glared at him, daring him to interrupt again, and continued, “But he has seen some horrible things on the field of battle. And if he thinks he’s being attacked, he lashes out. Gaius says that he somehow finds himself back in the middle of a war, fighting off his worst enemies and watching his men die around him. It’s like he’s reliving the worst days of his life. And that’s why he attacked you – he thought you were trying to ambush and kill him.”

“But that doesn’t explain–”

“I’m getting there, Merlin. For someone who looks half-dead, you sure can run your mouth like usual.” Merlin grinned, despite himself. “Oh, don’t look so proud,” Arthur ordered irritably. “It’s incredibly irritating.” But his own mouth had stretched into a half–smile as well.

“Anyway – the last battle, the one that ended his career… A sorcerer who was fighting against Camelot nearly crippled him. He lay there, helpless, and had to watch as the sorcerer killed at least a dozen of his men. One of them was his only son.”

A grim silence settled over master and servant, and a sick pit had formed in Merlin’s stomach. It was the kind of hollowness that could only exist in misery and pain, and he found himself wishing for the nausea to return.

“He thought I was that sorcerer,” Merlin clarified, heart aching for the man that had nearly killed him. “I didn’t know”

“How could you?” Arthur asked. Then he added, his voice taking on more of the guilt that Merlin had thought he’d heard earlier, “And I – well, it’s my fault,” he hedged lamely. “That you got hurt. Because I didn’t even think to warn you to knock before you entered the room. I was so focused on getting to the training field that it didn’t cross my mind that you didn’t know about Sir Owen’s flashbacks, as Gaius calls them.”

Merlin’s eyelids were heavy, and everything hurt, and he could feel sleep calling to him, but he insisted stubbornly, “I did knock.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Wonders never cease. But,” he clarified, “if he doesn’t hear you knocking and doesn’t know you’re coming, then it doesn’t even matter if you did knock. I should have told you to announce yourself, or had someone go with you that knew what to do.”

Somewhere in the other room, a door opened and closed.

“That’ll be Gaius,” said Arthur, standing up. He looked down at his battered servant, hesitated for the briefest of moments, and then said, “Sir Owen sends his apologies, and he hopes to meet you under better circumstances once you’re both feeling up to it.” In a rush, he added, “And, for what it’s worth, I – I’m sorry too.”

Merlin blinked in surprise, knowing how hard it had to have been for Arthur to admit he had made a mistake, let alone apologize for it. And even though the servant truly didn’t think the prince had anything to apologize for (after all, Merlin forgot important things all the time), it was touching, and he could tell that despite his discomfort that Arthur really meant it and needed to know that all was well.

Arthur leaned over, gave Merlin’s shoulder a gentle squeeze – even that sent bolts of agony through Merlin’s body, but the gesture was appreciated, even cherished. “You did… surprisingly well in holding him off until I found you,” he admitted as Gaius’s footsteps were heard ascending the short set of stairs behind him.

“He beat me to a pulp and nearly sliced me in half,” Merlin deadpanned.

“Yes, but you’re still alive, and that in itself is almost impressive,” Arthur said, and Merlin couldn't tell if the prince was serious or not. “Anyway,” he said, backing away and making room for Gaius, who was puttering into the small room balancing a tray of medicines and broth. “I need to get to training. Gaius, make sure he’s back to work the moment he’s well enough, but… also, not a moment before he’s ready.”

Gaius nodded, patted Arthur on the shoulder in thanks, and began to treat his patient. Merlin watched Arthur leave, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest that had nothing to do with the broken ribs. He barely even heard Gaius’s lecture about propriety and taking care of himself and knowing all the facts before he walked in on a situation. His wandering, aching mind was too busy thinking about the prince.

When he’d first come to Camelot, Arthur never would have apologized for anything. Already, amazingly, Merlin was beginning to see a change in the other man, a spark of something that made Merlin the tiniest bit proud to know him. And it may have been the head injury talking, but right now, despite the irritation he so commonly felt toward his new master, the idea of this destiny the dragon had prophesied suddenly didn’t seem too terrible after all.

Maybe Arthur wasn’t so bad, either.

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nature-and-music · 4 years ago

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Magick Tricks - Chapter 1

Authors’ note - This is a collaborated story written by @kashmir-baby and @nature-and-music involving Led Zeppelin going to a Renaissance Pleasure Faire. The year is 1975, hours before they play at a nearby venue. Robert encourages his mates to dress up and head off to a Renaissance Faire. The festivities are a blast for all of them, except for Jimmy who isn’t all too pleased with his costume (chosen by Robert) or the outing itself. However something later on catches his eye and bewitches him. Please keep in mind that this is a fictitious scenario and this story is purely written with humorous intentions and later on nsfw between adults (Jimmy x Female oc). If you are under the age of 18, please click away and do not read any further.

Our collab was quite long, so we had to break it up into chapters. @nature-and-music will be uploading the odd chapters and the epilogue. @kashmirbaby will be uploading the even chapters. We will provide the continuing chapters at the bottom and the previous chapters at the top.

Chapter 1 - Led Zeppelin Crashes the Renaissance Faire

Adjustments and lacing up of costumes seemed like such a hassle. However everything had to be done to ensure that they were prepared for the festivities today. With just a few more added details and props, they were ready to depart.

“Robert, please remind me again why we’re doing this?” Jimmy pondered as he looked at himself in the mirror. The tufts of his snow white beard hanging just below his chest.

“Jimmy, it’s the Renaissance Pleasure Faire. It’s a wonderful thing that people enjoy doing for fun,” Robert explained as he placed his sword into the holster; tugging out the wrinkles of the sun illustration upon his surcoat.

“I look ridiculous with this beard and hat,” Jimmy muttered.

“Well you do need a staff. You can’t be a proper wizard unless you have that,” Jonesy added, tuning the strings on his lute.

“More like a walking stick. Isn’t that right, grandfather?” Bonzo quipped, laughing as he practiced swinging his axe, nearly causing his horned helmet to topple over.

“First of all, a proper wizard would never wear this. Secondly, you’re no proper Viking, John! In fact they didn’t exist at that point in history,” Jimmy rebutted, squinting his eyes at the large man.

“Who cares about historical accuracy? Frankly, I wanna get there and start drinkin’,” Bonzo retorted, getting very close to Jimmy.

Quickly Jonesy stepped between his mates, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, “Here now, let’s take it easy, lads. Come on, we’re going to have fun today.”

“That’s right, and perhaps if any of us are lucky, we may even find a fair maiden to share the day with,” Robert delightfully added, as he swished his golden locks.

“Just, please try not to do anything stupid. That goes for everyone here,” Jonesy emphasized looking at all three of them.

“I highly doubt a serf boy is going to do much anyhow,” Jimmy snickered.

“Minstrel, Jimmy. I am a minstrel, as clearly indicated by my instrument of choice.”

“Right. Robert – really. Are you done? The sooner we leave the sooner this is over.”

“Yes, yes, yes, Jimmy,” Robert said gleefully as he admired himself one last time, tossing his curls and straightening the costume he was so proud of. “Let’s go.”

The boys left Robert’s hotel room and made their way towards the elevator. “God, this is embarrassing,” Jimmy said, as two attractive guests squeezed in after them. “Hello.” The elevators opened on the first floor, and they walked out to the awaiting car.

“Watch my cape,” Jimmy snapped at Bonzo as they climbed in.

“I’m hoping you’ll be more fun when you’re drunk,” Bonzo replied, pulling a flask from somewhere within his tunic and waving it at him. “Suit yourself,” he said as Jimmy shook his head no.

Robert chattered excitedly about everything he read of the Faire during the car ride, while the others nodded, half-listening. Jimmy fiddled with his wizard’s beard, as Bonzo emptied his flask.

“I can’t listen to you anymore,” Bonzo said, interrupting Robert. “Jonesy, play something on that flute!”

“I don’t have a flute, I have a lute.”

“Fine. Give it here then, and I’ll play it!” Bonzo said, lunging over Jimmy as he tried to snatch the lute from Jonesy.

“Bonzo, Bonzo, my beard. My beard!” Jimmy yelled, as Jonesy quickly pulled the lute out of reach.

“Why is everyone so touchy today?” Robert asked, shaking his head.

“So, did Crowley play dress up too? What would he think of your, uh, getup if he ran into you today?” Bonzo could barely finish speaking before he burst out in laughter.

“Aleister Crowley was a misunderstood genius of the 20th century. You’ve just proven it with your unsolicited commentary. He was not a conjurer of cheap tricks waving some wooden wand around.”

“I don’t know how you get women into bed at all with that talk, Jim,” Bonzo retorted.

“For your information, Crowley recognized that sexual energy is the most powerful force in the universe…and that line does pretty well,” Jimmy said matter-of-factly.

“Ah, so this whole sex magick trick is a ploy to get them into bed.”

“I’m not saying anything more on the subject.” Jimmy snapped. He had tensed up, and the boys spent the rest of the car ride in silence.

Robert was the first to break the tension, totally oblivious to the tension in the car. “Oh look, I can see the parking lot. We’ve arrived! Bonzo, behave, yeah? I’ll buy you your first beer.”

Robert threw the car door open and briskly walked towards the entrance, turning every so often as he awaited for the rest to catch up.

“The things I do for you, Robert,” Jimmy called, trailing behind them.

“Jimmy, I’ve already told you that everybody dresses up – look around. And let’s go! They’ll close by the time you lot make it inside!”

Robert led the way as they shuffled amongst a colorful crowd, towards the arches of the fake castle wall that had been built for the event.

“Renaissance Pleasure Faire,” Jonesy said, reading the sign that was perched above the archway. “Well at least they’re original.”

“Look at all the lovely costumes!” Robert said excitedly as he looked around, ignoring Jonesy’s jab.

The grounds were filled with all manner of tented shoppes, stages for performing, and fenced off spaces for physical activities such as archery and sword fighting. Ribbons billowing in the wind upon the buildings with which they were tied to, the scents of freshly made meals wafted about, and lively music echoed throughout. Vendors were selling their goods from handmade jewelry and statues made of steel, copper, and wood, depicting creatures both real and mystical. Weapons were crafted before curious audiences that gathered at the blacksmiths’ corner. All manner of drapery and costumes made from the finest of materials were displayed. This truly was heaven for anyone who harbored a love for anything that involved fantasy and myth; Robert fell in love with such a place. Jonesy couldn’t help but smile, there was something about this site that enamored him as well. A group of mighty vikings had noticed Bonzo, they raised their weapons and gave their fellow warrior a mighty roar; he responded as well, turns out he couldn’t help himself either. Jimmy, however, may have required a bit more convincing, somehow the magick of the faire was hardly affecting him.

“Cheer up Jimmy, this is actually a really nice venue,” Jonesy noted.

“Maybe we just need to get him a spellbook. That way he can actually enjoy himself,” Bonzo added; the wizard rolled his eyes, but remained silent.

Removing his sword from the holster, Robert pointed his blade and cried out, “Well come on, let us venture onward!”

“What about my beer?” Bonzo nonchalantly reminded the ecstatic knight.

“Onward to mead!” Robert rephrased happily.

The little fellowship walked the grounds, taking notice of the sights and hearing the music as they tread the dusty earth. They finally reached the eateries and headed straight for a booth selling mead. Perhaps it was the rather gregarious set up of the mead station, or the rather lovely women in their low bodice gowns that were selling the pints. Whatever drew them to this particular stand, the four of them stood in line ready to purchase. Jimmy noticed a glass jar with paper bills and coins, with a little sign that read, “Be generous and generosity will be gifted to thee.” Reaching into his satchel, he placed a few coins into the jar. Suddenly, as if on cue, the woman completing their transaction jumped for joy and clapped her hands.

“Huzzah to our gracious giver! Huzzah!”

As if under a trance, Jimmy kept a watchful eye on the rather buxom maiden leaping; the way her body would rise momentarily and give in to gravity once more. He smiled nervously and chuckled quietly, she was quite captivating. A nudge to his side forced him back to reality, to which Robert placed a couple of bills into the jar with his other arm, giving her a wink and a blown kiss. After finishing the phrase once more and grabbing the air for his “kiss”, she arched herself closer to Robert.

“Ooh, thank you brave sir knight, I will keep your kiss in my heart,” she seductively whispered as she opened her fist and splayed her palm upon her cleavage; giving him a little shimmey.

“Hey! If you two are done, we have drinks to guzzle down!” Bonzo shouted, seizing Robert by the arm, being careful to not spill his pint; Jimmy followed closely behind.

Jimmy looked over his shoulder and noticed that she blew him a kiss, giving him a little bounce, and a farewell shake.

“Now I see why ‘Pleasure’ is in the title,” he laughed.

Chapter 2: https://kashmir-baby.tumblr.com/post/636152384435994624/magick-tricks-chapter-2

#led zeppelin #jimmy page #jimmy page x ofc #robert plant #john paul jones #john bonham #collab fic #classic rock #classic rock fandom

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vore-scientist · 4 years ago

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An Honest Mistake

[Safe/soft GT vore, male pred & female prey + female observer. Fearplay with especially brave prey. Fantasy setting]

A Tale of the Mystic Woods

Proper Title: In Which a Young Knight Takes on a Quest That Was Not Meant For Her and Has Tea With an Old Friend

Content Warnings: Yonah gets a cut on his hand and uses it for intimidation purposes + interesting fearplay aspects since the prey is a proper noble knight and willing to “sacrifice” herself (obviously she lives. it just get a bit intense for her). To go into details here would be spoilers. Do not hesitate to privately message me if you feel you need me to elaborate!

All characters are my OCs and they are all adults!

[Special thanks to @nommy-thoughts for beta-reading!]

---

Nothing much had changed since she last set foot in the City of Luster but five years does make some difference. Everything seemed bigger and grander, but also a bit smaller. For Zelda had grown a lot, she almost was as tall as the horse she was leading; she could look it in the eyes at least, if she stood on her tiptoes. Most girls stop gaining height at around 16, but not her. She kept right on growing, up and out. Now she was 18 and finally slowing down. Height and brawn were good things, considering the reason she left home was to become a knight.

Now she was back and had a lot of catching up to do. Knight School is one of those things that takes many years, and you’re not allowed much contact with the outside world. Knights are above gossip after all. All she knew was that Princess Ilana was going to be married in about two months.

That was the main reason she was even Luster and not off adventuring. It was going to be a big party. And she had almost missed it. Or missed the RSVP date, since the Grand Master Knights kept the mail from the apprentices for 1 month unless it was an emergency. Again, the gossip thing. No distractions allowed. Thankfully, she made it to Journeyer and was given access to her mail a week early.

The first thing Zelda opened was the most fancy and official of envelopes. Turned out to be a wedding invitation.

Journeyer Knights got to go on Journeys and take on their first quests! And there were always minor quests being posted about in Luster, it was a veritable hub of job listings, quests, and fairytales. Zelda was sure to find one in no time. And perhaps involving someone else she knew. For she had grown up friends with the royals of Orr. Who knows what they’ve gotten up to in the last five years.

Especially the Princess Sophia. That twerp of a Princess was always getting into some sort of trouble. Not scandal worthy, most of the time.

As her thoughts turned to Sophia, the Knight passed by a particular bakery. The Taste of Victory. A popular spot among leaving and returning questers. A memory burst into her mind, and she tied up her horse on a lamppost and headed inside.

It smelled exactly like how she remembered. Like honey, spices, and heaven. It was nearing noon and the savory scents of meat filled pastries came from the back, though the sweet cakes and confections that surrounded the walls were much stronger. The two, sweet and savory, did not conflict, rather they danced into her nose.

“Now there’s a face I haven’t seen in a long time. All grown up! I barely recognized you! Unless you’re not Zelda Barzilay.”

The Journeyer Baker hadn’t changed a bit; they barely looked older. The same long blonde hair and green-grey eyes, a pudgy face and body to go with it. Though… they must be a Master by now.

“Or is it Sir Zelda now?”

Zelda ran her hands through her thick but two inch long hair as she walked up to the counter, “It is indeed, hence the hair. All trainees must keep it short. However, I’m growing it out again. I expect you are now Master Aloni?”

Aloni beamed, “I’m running the whole shebang now! I have my own Apprentice, but they’re out on deliveries. I don’t miss that job but I do miss the people.”

“Do you have any koftashen?”

“Now, that’s also a name I haven’t heard in a while,” Aloni sounded sorry, but there was a hint of cheekiness in their voice.

Zelda’s face fell. It wasn’t the end of the world, but it would have been a nice surprise.

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t make one! It’s not like we don’t have the pastry dough. Just that particular combo was never that popular, it was just-”

“Sophia and I’s favorite.”

“Sophia was pretty much the only reason we stocked it. Not wise to discontinue a Royal’s favorite, even if her preference didn’t start a trend.” Unlike some items, like the special maamoul that became Prince Daniel’s favorite. Daniel was a trendsetter and they couldn't stock the product fast enough.

Many knights are airheads, just minor nobles or lucky commoners who got picked to train as heroes. So most didn’t think about much beyond honor and fighting. Puzzle solving was for clever folk like wizards. Zelda wasn’t exactly a genius, but she started to connect the dots, and worry filled her stomach.

“Wait- Did something happen to Sophia?”

Aloni looked a bit surprised then recovered, “Right, you wouldn't have heard, though it wasn’t exactly huge news. Kinda weird now that I think about it. There was no big hullabaloo or anything! Just kinda got around. I only heard by eavesdropping on, - uh, thanks to gossiping customers. Glad I did; I had to throw out a lot of stale kofts. I mean, It would have been nice to get a heads up-”

“What happened!”

“Calm down, she was just kidnapped!- Hey watch it!”

CRASH

Zelda had slammed a fist on the counter and a glass container of cookies fell to the floor.

“Just kidnapped!”

“Yeah, by an evil witch or something.”

“What!? When did this happen?”

“I- I don’t know, a while ago?”

“And she’s not been rescued!?”

Aloni’s placidity made Zelda furious. And as they shook their head, Zelda grew worried. An unknown number of months and no rescue. Why had no one told her? Gossip or not, the kidnapping of her childhood friend was a big deal. There was no telling what state she was in now.

“Hey why don’t you give it a go!”

Zelda stopped fuming. “Wha-”

“She probably hasn’t been rescued because the right person hasn’t made the attempt! You two were great friends, so maybe it’s your fate!”

A random person had walked into the store but slowly backed out, hanging around outside. Best not to get involved with knights. You tend to get roped into adventures where anyone but the knight is expendable. After centuries of this, the populace had managed to catch on. Though there are still those reckless enough and foolish enough to get caught up in the excitement.

“I-” Zelda brightened, “It must be! Of course! My friend: kidnapped while I was in school! And then it’s the first thing I learn of when I return home to visit her. If that’s not the start of my first fairytale I don’t know what is.”

Then she paused.

“Uh, you don’t happen to know where Sophia was kidnapped to, do you?”

Aloni held out their hands, “Sorry Zelda, I’m not even sure she was kidnapped by a witch. But, I can whip up some koftashen to take with you!”

“That would be great, and uh-” Zelda looked at the glass and cookies by her feet. “I’ll pay for this…”

---

Since Zelda had paid for them she munched on the least messed up cookies that had not touched the floor and had no glass pieces in them as she continued towards the castle on the other side of town. Surely someone must know more details about Sophia’s kidnapping.

“Sophia… the royal one? No, don't know a thing.”

“Kidnapped you say?”

“Good, it will keep her out of trouble.”

“Sorry, I remember hearing about it maybe a year ago, but not who told me.”

Seemed like either people didn’t know or knew as much as Aloni. Or that the troublemaker was finally being dealt with. People knew Sophia. The princess with an unfortunate reputation. Not that she had caused any undue damage in the city, but people talked about how much of a pain in the ass she was for her father. Not the best reputation. At least no one outright hated her.

The common folk were clearly the wrong people to be asking. Someone closer to the inner workings of the kingdom. Ah, there was a Mage Guard.

“Hey, you, Ranger fellow!” The ranger, who had been leaving a textile’s shop holding a lot of cloth didn’t startle (too well trained), but he raised a brow and nodded.

“Yes, Sir?” as if he was not sure if what he was seeing was a Knight.

“Sir Zelda Barzilay! A pleasant afternoon to you,” she gave him a shallow, respectful bow.

The ranger sighed, adjusting his hold on his fabrics, “If we must talk, can we at least walk?”

“Oh,” Zelda’s face grew hot, guess she was interrupting official business, “I can help you. Why don't you let my horse carry that?”

The ranger’s attitude improved at the suggestion, though Nechesh’s suffered. She was already carrying all of Zelda’s stuff and was not a pack animal! But as a Knight’s Steed she was also steadfast and hardworking. She could handle a few pounds of fabric.

“I am Master Ranger Nimrod, What did you want to talk about, Sir Zelda?”

A Master Ranger? What was a Master Ranger doing errands for? Nevermind that, not her business.

“I heard The Princess Sophia was kidnapped recently, and I hoped you might know something.”

Ranger Nimrod stopped and looked Zelda up and down. He was shorter than her by a few inches, though his magical aura gave him a large presence. Rangers were known for being clever and perceptive. Was he sizing her up? Was that concern in his eyes? Could he tell she had only just become a journeyer, having earned the right to be called Sir only a few months ago? Would he refuse to tell her based on her inexperience?

“I'm guessing you want to rescue her; a bold task for such a fresh knight.”

“She’s my friend!”

That got her a shocked look.

“Really now! That’s a bit different. The Princess Sophia was kidnapped by a mage and taken to his tower in the Mystic Woods.”

Zelda stopped. And laughed.

Of Course! Why hadn’t she thought of that. Stupid! Of course Ben would have hired a mage who lives in the Mystic Woods. That way he could be sure she was safe. Zelda didn’t know much about how being King of the Mystic Woods worked, but she knew he had some freaky connection, like he was part of the forest or it was part of him? Something like that. Magical bullshit wasn’t her speciality.

And of COURSE she was in a tower. Sophia never cut her damn hair in all the years Zelda knew her. That was practically begging to be stuck in a tower.

Finally she composed herself.

“Then I, Sir Zelda Barzilay child of Sarai Barzilay, Knight Of Orr, shall rescue her!”

She turned to the ranger, “Thank you!”

A hand caught the back of her armor as she started to lead Nechesh away.

“Not so fast, Young Knight. You said you would help me. Complete one quest first.”

Right. Her cheeks red, she turned around, and followed the ranger.

TO THE CASTLE!

No no. She couldn’t go inside. Telling anyone else about her plans would make the expectations too high and she would fuck up somehow. But the ranger insisted she see this through. They left Nechesh in the front stable, each taking half the rolls of fabric. Trying to be inconspicuous, she passed into the main entrance.

Where they were greeted by Princess Sasha.

And Zelda nearly dropped her cargo.

The princess’s loose wavy dark brown hair was practically glittering around their light brown face. And to wrap it all up, their honey brown eyes shone brightly. Their plump cheeks were almost flawless, though make-up was playing a part, and they were dressed in stunning greens and yellows.

Had Sasha always been this lovely?

Certainly they had always been cute, but the last time Zelda has seen them was when they were both 13. They had been in the same year for their Transitionary Classes. Royals didn’t attend commoner school except for certain special classes between the ages of 12 and 14, when everyone in the kingdom undertakes their first apprenticeship and also a deep dive into their country’s history and culture. Immersing themselves in language and arts and dedicating themselves to an assigned task. And at the end was thrown a big celebration; for those who have now taken their first steps towards adulthood.

Some people, like Zelda and Sasha, manage to finish their training in a year. Others took two or even three, but it doesn’t matter how long.

There are parties held for those who complete their work at the end of the year. And when that included a royal, well, those begame legendary. For the capital city’s 13 year olds at least. Sasha’s party had been the most memorable night for Zelda’s 13 years of life. The princess had even danced with her.

That’s when she resolved to save Sasha’s sister. She could not let this family down.

“Ohmygods is that Zelda you’re so tall!” The princess rushed up and hugged Zelda as the knight’s thoughts and feelings processed. The princess, though her equal in age, came up to her chest. It couldn’t have been comfortable, she had armor on!

“It is an honor to see you again Your Highness.”

Sasha laughed, “I bet it is. That must be the materials for our dresses. Thank you Master Nimrod, I hope such a task wasn’t too easy for you.”

It was a kind of silly mission for a high ranking ranger.

“I guarded the fabric with my life, Highness.”

He gave a small bow before leaving his load with a servant. Leaving Zelda alone with Sasha. And the servant.

“Uh, I must be going too, I uh, have a quest.”

There was a flash of disappointment in Sasha’s face.

“But? You just got here,” they said. “You are still welcome in the castle you know! Don’t you need to rest up before your quest?”

Spending a night at the castle was extremely tempting. But she had stayed at an inn outside town before gathering the courage to enter. Both she and Nechesh were well rested. However.

“I could use a few supplies. A ration pack, if your rangers can spare one. My quest is taking me into the Mystic woods.”

Sasha nodded.

“And when I’m done I’m coming right back here! I promise. And! I’m going to the wedding. Carrying all this fabric has made me realize I don’t have an outfit!”

Sasha took Zelda’s hand, “Please, I would hate myself if you didn’t use the royal seamstresses. You’ve been a friend to so many of us. And I’ll see you get that pack.”

There was no way Zelda could just leave. Not now.

“I, suppose I could stay for an hour or two, I only had cookies for lunch.”

The princess beamed, “I haven’t even eaten yet! Come on.”

And she was led away, after another servant took the rest of the fabric.

—-

Staying for the next hour had been a mistake. Now she didn’t want to leave, catching up with Sasha had been so much fun and she only wanted to keep talking. But she knew she had to. No one else could rescue the Princess Sophia. If no one had done so in several months, that must mean she was meant to do it. One of the princess’s best friends!

Sasha saw her out of the castle, and Zelda put on her helmet before mounting Nechesh and setting her off at a slow trot back out of the city in the direction of the Mystic Woods.

---

There was no point in asking where the tower was, at least not until in the forest, as unless the information is fresh, it’s not worth anything. The only person who could tell where anything is with any accuracy would be the King. But even if she could have asked King Ben before heading out, the location could shift before she made it to the border.

So she just went straight in with no plan at all other than to question anyone she came across if they seemed friendly.

While she didn’t regret taking extra time in the city it did mean she arrived in the forest as the sun was going down. Not really safe to sleep out in the open and thus priority changed from finding Sophia’s prison to finding a place to camp for the night. Anywhere would do.

It would be a pity for the koftashen to go stale.

As if the Mystic Woods shared her agency with regards to delivering fresh baked goods, the Knight and her Horse suddenly left the cover of the trees and found themselves on the edge of a clearing. A clearing filled with an orchard, a garden, and.

A tower.

But was it The Tower? Sleeping in one of the trees outside would be better than sleeping in some random evil mage’s tower.

Zelda had to at least check it out.

“Shhh” she dismounted and quieted Nechesh at the edge of the garden. Surely that wouldn’t shift away from the tower! And she crept forward.

The proper thing to do would be to wait for the morning, or just any daytime hour. Wait for the mage to leave and then call out for Sophia to lower her hair.

However, Zelda was not patient, and judging by the height of the tower, even Sophia’s hair couldn’t serve as a rope. Plus the pastries.

“AHHHHHHGGH” the scream of a young woman broke the silence, accompanied by a terrible laughter.

From a scream like that, Zelda was a bit surprised how sure she was that it was definitely Sophia. It was hard to tell the scream had been agony, or Terror, or excitement. Had she come at just the right moment!? What kind of torture was she enduring? Zelda couldn’t even imagine what a mage could invent.

She ran to the tower intending to climb but to her dismay the thick and sturdy vines were full of thorns. This could only be scaled with care. As she climbed, the voices faded, but it didn’t sound like anyone had died. Just the sound had retreated as if Sophia and her captor had left the room at the top of the tower.

At least Zelda hoped that was the case.

Fuck! Climbing with armor on sucked a lot! At least it protected her from the thorns; she couldn’t feel them at all! She just had to watch out for her hands, which were unfortunately only adorned in leather.

It took awhile but she made it up, and looked into a dimly lit workshop that definitely belonged to a mage. Staring into it hurt her brain, her eyes strained and a smidgen of nausea hit.

She had to sit down and gain her strength back anyways. Good thing she did, for as she sat the perspective shifted. Her nausea went away but her heart sank and her blood went cold.

For the workshop, which had been completely normal, was now over three times its original size. The drop from the windowsill to the floor? From 4 feet to 15. Impossible to jump down through making a lot of noise.

And in her armor she would make a terrible racket. Not a good thing when dealing with a giant. For if the mage fit the workshop, he had to be massive. What was he? An overgrown troll? Giants she had seen, they were massive and combating them required special training and tools. Which she didn’t have. But this space wasn’t large enough for a proper giant.

Not important. Sophia was here! She needed to be rescued.

Carefully and silently, as the massive candle on the massive desk slowly melted, she took off her armor. Taking off armor doesn’t take as long as donning it, but it still took several minutes to do so without making a sound. Soon she was in under armor silks, though she kept her sword and helmet. And the satchel of koftashen.

Without her clanking boots, she landed with a soft THUMP on the floor, and she ran for the trapdoor she had seen. There had to be a way to open it. There just had to! But there wasn’t. Why would a giant mage make it easy for his princess to run away by giving her a convenient door?

She circled it many times, searching for something. Anything.

Aha!

A small crack. Actually a large one, but small for a giant door. A natural hole in the wood that had been rounded and sanded. She lowered herself cautiously. Holding onto the edge with her hands, she dangled above nothing, the drop farther than her feet could reach. It would be on faith that the drop was not a fatal distance.

She let go.

It was still a shock, but the fall was only a few feet. The first step on a giant staircase. The steps were each about 4ft in height, not fun to climb down but not dangerous.

At the first landing, she had to stop. Holy hell, she was getting tired. If she didn’t find Sophia on this level, she would hide and sleep.

It was quaint and peaceful. A picture perfect living room with a big armchair with a futon and matching couch. A full bookshelf with books both human and giant sized. A coffee table with a goblet of wine that had to have been left out hours ago. And a brick fireplace.

Even though there were no windows on the outside of the tower, there were on the inside. And as the last embers of a fire merrily crackled, star and moon light shown in through what had to be magic windows.

That armchair, even though it must have thick rough fabric, called to her to climb up and curl into a corner to sleep. No! She would search this floor and if she didn’t find the princess then she would find a real hiding spot, not pass out someplace in the open.

Keeping to the walls that were cast in shadows because it was now officially night probably would have been the best course of action. Yet something inside her made her scurry between the furniture, crawl under the couch. Oh hey! A gold piece. Peek out from the feet of the armchair, and even climb up to get a sip of the long forgotten wine. Much of the alcohol had evaporated. It was also very very sweet.

Get back to it!! Her brain screamed, and she scrambled back down.

The living room led into two hallways, so she picked the left one. It seemed just as good as the right. Now she stayed close to the wall, and stepped with care. Slow going but safe.

Was that a light up ahead? She flattened herself against the wall and held her breath. Footsteps soon reached her ears. Soft ones.

Five years had not changed Sophia very much. Not like they had for Zelda. There was a big difference between 13 to 18 and 16 to 21. Sophia was exactly the same height as before, only her body’s proportions adjusted to her age, and her hair was even longer. The princess was holding a dim light in her hands, dressed in a nightgown, and was walking towards her!

As she neared, Zelda saw the sleepiness in her face; the princess walked right by her, even as the light shone on Zelda’s person as she passed. Then, after walking a few more paces she froze. And walked backwards.

Sophia’s sleepy visage was replaced by shock and then, joy? But not the joy of seeing an old friend. This was the face Sophia always wore when she was about to get into big trouble, and have fun doing it. Sophia opened her mouth.

NO!

Zelda pounced, putting the princess into a one armed hold, her other hand she pressed to Sophia’s mouth to keep her quiet. She did not want to deal with a giant mage if she didn’t have to. Sophia’s eyes got wide with fear and anger, and fought against the embrace.

She was stronger than Zelda anticipated, and managed to move the hand, just enough to-

YIPE!

Sophia bit down hard, but Zelda only let out a small cry. Knights know how to remain steadfast under assault, though she was surprised. Plus she still had on leather gloves.

“Let go of me!” Sophia hissed. She would not be rescued.

“Sophia, it’s me!” Zelda stepped away and raised her visor, and Sophia held up the magelight.

“No way, Zelda!?” Could it really be her friend? It had been so long. And she was so big now!

“Shhhh!” Was Sophia crazy? They could not be found out.

Sophia’s expression darkened even as the light grew brighter. This was her friend after all.

“What are you doing here!?” she demanded, her voice mercifully low.

Was she serious? Sophia was a captive princess, and Zelda was a knight! What else would she be doing?

“Rescuing you, dummy!” Zelda whispered. Then remembered that Sophia was out and about. Perhaps whatever terror she just endured has inspired her? “Wait, are you escaping?”

Sophia, who had taken a rather professional defensive stance, relaxed and stood up. Not that it made much difference. She looked a bit annoyed and disappointed.

“No. Zelda, I don't want to be rescued.” She made sure her tone was low and serious; she had no patience for those who disrespect her wishes. And even if Zelda was her friend, things change, and going off to knight school could have turned her foolish.

Zelda regretted showing her face, for it was surely as red as a tomato. She had not considered Sophia might be here by choice. That was known to happen. But even most royals who elect to be kidnapped did so just to get rescued. It was rare that they wanted to stay. Given that Sophia’s kidnapping hadn’t been a big deal back in Orr, it now made sense that it was because rescue was never the plan.

“You’re sure? You’re not enchanted to say that?” Which was another possibility.

Sophia rolled her eyes. She wished people would just believe her. “If I was, the spell wouldn’t let me tell you.”

No. Such spells never did. It was very irritating. But she couldn’t leave now! She just got here and she wanted to talk to her friend. So she took the satchel and presented it to the princess. Sophia’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I hope you’re not trying to trick me or-”

“No! It’s-”

Sophia held up a hand, “Actually, let’s continue talking somewhere else. Plus, I still need to pee.”

Zelda gave her a questioning look.

“I was heading to the bathroom, Zelda,” Sophia sneered, and continued walking. Zelda ran to catch up when she finished processing and returned the satchel to her back. Matching pace with the princess they walked side by side. Sophia was walking rather fast.

“You’re not locked in a cage?”

“Not locked up, no.”

“So how long have you been here? No one back home could agree, some said a year, some said only a few months.”

Hmmm. Sophia considered, “I think it’s almost 8 months now!” She had a smile on her face, “Time really flies huh! How long ago did you go off to be a knight?”

“Five years- and I am a knight now!”

“Congrats!” Sophia was very sincere. She was proud of her friend!

They stopped talking when they made it to the stairs.

“You have to climb?”

“I used to, but recent installations have made it easier.” She didn’t go into detail. But a few months ago, when it was clear Sophia was here to stay, Yonah had installed accommodations befitting a human resident.

Sophia walked to the right hand side of the staircase, with intent to go further down. As she stepped down a new staircase appeared! A small one, for smallfolk. That ran alongside the giant. Why hadn’t Zelda seen that before? Now that she thought about it, that had definitely not been there.

It was only about a flight’s worth down of the small stairs that a massive door appeared on the dark stone wall. Again, out of nowhere. It was unlocked and slightly ajar, and they both slipped in.

“How about you wait outside.” The bathroom was large but she still wanted privacy.

“Right.” She returned to the hallway, but leaned on the door, worried it would vanish otherwise.

What a long trek just to use the bathroom at night! What if it had been some sort of emergency? Zelda was inclined to ask once Sophia was finished but also felt like that was a kind of awkward question. Also she was curious about what the bathroom looked like. It must be big. Was there a tiny toilet for Sophia? Again, she decided not to ask, not right away.

It did take a little while for Sophia to return, but she did.

“Since I’m already up, how about some tea?”

Tea would go great with the koftashen! So Zelda agreed.

They continued down the stairs into a kitchen.

A big kitchen.

Sophia led her to the counter, and as Sophia reached up and touched something, a ladder appeared! They both climbed up and walked over to the large stove. There was a kettle, large and metal and well loved. But how was Sophia going to use it?

From behind a jar Sophia dragged out a smaller stove! And a smaller tea kettle. This one was shiny and new.

Sophia went to the large sink on the other side of the counter and pushed the faucet handle with all her strength. The water was too far to reach so she hopped into the sink and held the kettle underneath. She returned with very wet feet and the edge of her nightgown dripping.

The water now heating up, Sophia climbed up to the cabinets. Zelda followed, and found before her boxes and jars of dried leaves and fruits and spices. The smells almost made her pass out. She pulled her shirt over her face, but her eyes still stung.

“You sure you know-” Zelda knew that Sophia didn’t know how to cook. None of the royals except maybe Daniel and Rosalind, could cook.

“I can manage.” She looked a bit worried, and sniffed each item carefully before choosing what was clearly a pre-made blend, and a few extras. Hopefully it was all tea.

From one of the corners she retrieved a teapot. She blew the dust off of it and sneezed.

“Do you even know how to use that?” Because the amount of dust made Zelda wonder if it had ever been used.

“I- do…” Sophia didn’t say anything else and climbed back down to the countertop.

The water was ready and Sophia put her mysterious tea mixture into the pot then added the hot water. It had to steep so she went to find some teacups. That’s when they both heard it.

Footsteps. And Zelda knew they could only belong to one who was properly sized for the tower.

“It had to be now?!” She looked at Zelda with a sympathetic face. Maybe she could spare Zelda the humiliation. At the very least she could try. But Yonah was usually in the mood for a treat, and was a major asshole.

The footsteps grew louder and Zelda stood up, putting on her helmet and unsheathing her sword.

“Now what’s going on here?” the grumbling voice came a few seconds before it’s owner.

Not in a nightgown, but in his full regalia, the half-giant wizard filled the entrance, in the dim kitchen his eyes were like torches. Then he snapped his fingers and the room filled with light. The two women blinked their vision back to clarity as he approached. He had not done his hair, so it billowed behind him, making him look even larger. He had not shaved, so he looked more wild. His massive rectangular nerd glasses did nothing to make him look less intimidating.

“A knight” Yonah growled, “Trying to make your escape, princess?”

Zelda recovered her stance but Sophia just crossed her arms.

“No, Yonah. Just making tea.”

“A likely story!” He slammed a hand down on the counter and they both backed up to the wall. Sophia didn’t think he’d hurt them, but fuck he was really scary. Zelda moved in front of her. “What did this knight do to convince you?”

“Stay away from her, you monster!”

“No- Zelda don’t”

Zelda probably didn’t know that Yonah was just playing. That behind that snarling face was a half-giant having way too much fun. Sophia knew it.

“It doesn’t really matter,” Yonah withdrew his hand and crossed his arms. “She knows the punishment for escaping.”

He was so quick that even Zelda couldn’t react in time. Yonah had each human in a fist. Sophia continued to glare at him. Zelda struggled.

“Let us go you idiot,” Sophia yelled. “Zelda wasn’t rescuing me!”

Yonah faltered for only a moment, breaking character. She knew the knight's name! That was different. And the room did smell of tea, though it was a bit off. Sophia normally called for him if a knight showed up, she didn’t string them along. Unless this was a new tactic so that he could get extra treats! No. Her face was hard. He came to the conclusion that she didn't want him to eat this one.

Well, that wasn’t up to her.

“You really shouldn’t have come, foolish knight.” He eyed Zelda with a look of horrible gratitude. “I told her, if she tried to run,” he looked back at Sophia with accusation in his eyes and licked his lips, “I would eat her.”

Sophia knew the glare was because she wasn’t playing along. Well, it was clear he’d made up his mind. If she continued to spoil the moment he might really punish her. Extra chores or exercises. Ugh. He’d definitely eat her too. She didn’t mind that so much anymore, and even enjoyed it sometimes, but it was still annoying. Fine. She’d play. A little.

She screamed.

/Fuck!/ Zelda thought. /Is this why she refused to be rescued? Her captor was a person-eating monster who would hunt them down?/ And Sophia had somehow thought that having tea would be safe. That it wouldn’t look suspicious?/

The giant brought Sophia closer to his mouth.

“NO!” Zelda bellowed.

Somehow she’d managed to swing her arms at the proper angle to slash her sword across the back of Yonah’s hand. He yelled, waving his hand and letting go, Sophia yelped as he squeezed her. Zelda was flung onto the counter, but she rolled and was uninjured.

“Release her! Or I’ll-”

“Do what, fight me?” Yonah backed away, not out of fear. He looked like he wanted her to try.

Zelda couldn’t leap at him from the counter anymore.

“I don’t need two morsels tonight, you might be able to slip away before I’m finished with the princess,” he taunted, his eyes glowing. “If you’re fast enough”

Sophia knew exactly what he was going for. He couldn’t activate her curse while being watched, it was super obvious, and he didn’t like to eat her without it. Also he had done this play before. Not exactly like this, but the same threat, the same promise, which was just bait. Either they took it or fled, and Yonah would eat her and then be a complete dumbass and eat the knight too, giving himself a stomach ache. Would Zelda run or?-

“Save yourself Zelda, I’ll make sure it takes a while to choke me down!” she said, a little flatly.

Yonah gave her a sly smile. Sophia felt a bit bad for her friend. Not that bad however, messing with people was fun. So she struggled in Yonah’s grasp and spit at his face, which only hit his glasses.

“Never!” Zelda yelled with practiced ferocity. “If you’re fine with one morsel, then why not me instead!”

Yonah laughed, “I was planning to eat you both earlier, and I could easily catch you! Or did you fail to realize that I am not a mere half-giant, but a great and powerful wizard!?”

Zelda panicked. She had of course realized, she knew he was a mage before knowing he was a half-giant. But wizard? She was fucked. He never planned to let her go in the first place, he was just playing with his food.

“If you eat her, then the knights will stop coming!”

“So?” Yonah huffed, “I don’t like knights,” he held up his bleeding hand, and then licked the blood. That was a jerk move even for him, it would make being eaten even more unpleasant! However, it did make him look much more menacing.

“But, she attracts them, and-”

The giant’s laughter cut her off, “You’d rather offer yourself up, and let other knights meet the same fate, than let her die?”

“No!” Zelda growled, “Someone will rescue her, but that won’t happen if she’s dead!”

There was a long moment of silence. It was really just like 5 seconds but to Zelda it was an eternity, as time slowed down. The giant could just eat them both and get on with his life unburdened. Then things sped up as the giant laughed.

“Very well then.” He smiled wide, his teeth glistening with his own blood.

“Drop the princess,” Zelda ordered, but the giant still smiled.

“You drop your sword first.”

“Yonah don’t you dare drop me!” Sophia hissed, but couldn’t know if he heard her.

Zelda waivered, but then relaxed her stance. Hanging her head, she let go and the sword clattered next to her. When she looked up the wizard still held her friend.

“Well!”

“Im not stupid, young knight, you need to drop all your weapons, I can’t have you damaging my poor stomach, not when it’s so excited to meet you!”

And indeed as he pat his generous middle it let out a low rumble. Zelda paled. She was going to meet her end inside this giant, and there was nothing she could do about it. She would be gone and it would be a long time before anyone figured out what had happened to her.

She removed the short sword from her back and the knives on her calves. And also her satchel of pastries. Soohia would find them later, a final gift. When she looked up again everything was distorted. Great. Her first quest and she would go down not fighting but crying. Maybe she didn’t deserve to be a knight.

“Very good.”

The giant took a step forward and released Sophia, who ran to hug the now trembling Zelda.

Sophia wanted to tell her it would be alright, but explaining would just be putting off the inevitable. Zelda probably wouldn’t even believe her. And she still wasn’t sure if Yonah would punish her for it. Maybe by eating Zelda for real. Just because Yonah couldn’t kill her, didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to kill knights. He was in fact very much allowed to kill knights who tried to rescue her.

So as Zelda cried into her shoulders, Sophia cried too. Fake tears but very convincing.

No words were exchanged. Yonah placed his hand palm up and Zelda, head high, stepped on to it. She fell on her butt as he lifted her up, but her expression did not change. She would show no fear. Not of him. Not of death.

“I want your word, promise Sophia will not be punished, and not be harmed!”

The giant nodded, “I swear by the mountain gods of my kin.”

At least most of the blood was gone, as he smiled wider and wider as she drew nearer his mouth. The fangs still had a red tinge to them and the smell lingered. It being from his own blood, that she had drawn, didn’t make it better. She nearly gagged as her torso was shoved into the maw.

His tongue was so slimy, and it licked at her greedily. She didn’t know if it was a blessing that he hadn’t bit down on her. It was probably a worse death down in his stomach. Her heart beat faster and faster as she anticipated being swallowed down. The worst part was the giant was taking his damn time tasting her.

Until one moment gravity shifted and she slid back, as the jaw widened so slightly so the tongue could help draw her back, though most of the work was from the giant's hands as he held her torso and pushed her gently.

Sophia could barely watch as her childhood friend was swallowed down by her newest friend. It had taken a while but she did consider Yonah her friend. Unless he killed Zelda, then whatever connection that had would be destroyed forever. Thus she supervised as Yonah happily gulped down the rest of the knight, feet disappearing into his mouth and with a mighty swallow the weird swelling of his neck receded down, disappearing into his collar.

He hiccuped, which looked painful and made Sophia smile. He smiled too.

“I like a knight who doesn’t wear much armor! Much easier to get down, and tastier too!” He rubbed at his belly which was now full and happy.

“Ok, you had your fun Yonah,” Sophia said, as he reached for her.

The princess didn’t resist and let him hold her as he sat down at the kitchen table. He placed her on his shoulder and leaned back, undeservingly proud of himself. He’d done nothing. He was barely hurt! And he was acting like he defeated a proper enemy in battle.

Sophia hopped off to his thigh and onto the table. Turning around, she crossed her arms. Yonah didn’t seem to care.

“I mean it, you need to spit her out.”

Yonah opened his eyes and looked up wistfully.

“She’s not even struggling.”

“Why would she? She’s accepted her death!”

“Ah, well, I’m sure she’ll give me a good performance once my stomach acids start to go to work. They always do.”

That got him a scream and a scramble but then.

“I’ll never give you any such satisfaction!”

Yonah sighed and patted his stomach. “Sure sure, whatever you say my little snack! You were delicious. Not as good as some other knights, but I’m not complaining.”

This knight, Zelda, had actually been supremely tasty. And delightfully filling, so big and bulky, a challenge to swallow but so worth it. He wished he could keep her there longer. Ah well, he could always eat Sophia later if he felt peckish!

Speaking of! The princess was back on his thigh, glaring at him with her warm brown eyes. Except they were so cold.

“No, you’ll spit her out before she’s hurt at all!”

Yonah sat up and held his hands with his palms forward.

“Okay okay, Just give me a minute.”

Sophia nodded, she knew Yonah had to catch his breath, or he might not be able to spit up her friend.

“The blood was a little much,” Sophia critiqued, smirking.

“Really? I thought it made me very savage looking.” He licked his lips again.

“It did but it was gross!”

Zelda didn’t think to do anything but curl up and cry, wait for the inevitable. It was humid and rank and dark. So completely dark. The slimy walls pushed at her, played with her. At least Sophia wasn’t in here.

There was a lot of movement and talk from the giant, he was talking to Sophia! From the tone of his voice he barely cared that she was in his stomach, guess she was just food to him now. Wait.

Were?

They talking about her?

“I’m letting her out /mumble/ you owe me!”

“Owe YOU- mumble- fucker!”

“Cranky because I’m going to eat you?”

The next shout from Sophia was incoherent as Zelda’s pulse roared in her ears. She’d let herself get eaten for nothing! Wait, no. The giant said let her out. Sophia had somehow convinced the giant to let them switch places! Well that wasn’t going to happen.

A sharp movement at her shoulder told her the giant was poking at her.

“I’m spitting you up now.”

“THE HELL YOU ARE!”

Sophia and Yonah stared at each other with disbelief.

“You don’t really want to die do you?” Yonah poked his stomach again, a little warily.

“Of course not! But I heard you. You’re going to eat Sophia!”

The chuckles made her bounce.

“I was going to regardless!”

“Yonah” Sophia hissed lowly, “You’re not helping!”

“You motherfucker! You lied!”

Yonah stood up and walked over to the sink, which was still running. He plugged it and leaned over.

And started hacking.

The lump in his stomach didn’t move. He pressed a hand to his middle. Trying again. Blood rushed to his head and he wheezed. Nothing!

Zelda spread out her arms and legs, bracing herself against the walls. It constricted, but was not strong enough.

“You promised! You promised if you ate me you wouldn’t hurt Sophia!”

A binding word like that was powerful and should he break it, there would be consequences. But if she didn’t die then that word meant nothing! And he could do what he wanted to Sophia.

Yonah sat on the floor, trembling. Sophia ran up to him, her eyes almost alight with fire. She stood on his thigh and pounded on his stomach.

“Zelda, don’t be a fool! He’s not going to hurt me! Don’t die for nothing!”

Sophia looked up at Yonah with eyes full of hot tears. Yonah looked stricken, he didn’t want to kill Zelda either. He breathed. And spoke.

“Z-Zelda was it? I really don’t want to kill you, and I could never hurt Sophia! I’ve got to spit you up.”

“LIES!” She cried.

Dammit Yonah! There was really no time to explain.

“Zelda you have to trust me, Yonah’s my friend.” She glared at him, and he knew their friendship could end tonight.

Yonah also knew that Zelda would pass out before his stomach did too much damage and he could spit her up then, just not unharmed. It was a last resort move.

“Please, Zelda, I'm begging you.”

Then she leaned her palms on the wizard, pressed into his stomach.

“If you don’t let Yonah spit you up, I’ll go in and push you out!”

“WHAT!” No. She wouldn’t dare.

The air and flesh grew hotter around her and her skin was starting to sting.

With a grunt Yonah stood up again. He wasn’t fully recovered, but he was going to make another attempt.

“Last chance to make the return journey an easy one, I suggest you take it.” His voice rumbled. Then he made his voice soft as he rubbed his stomach. “I never intended to kill you, and definitely not Sophia.”

Sophia had held onto his robes and scrambled up them, then leapt to the sink.

Ok. Ok. As Zelda felt another twinge of pain her mind cleared for a second. It heard the pleading sorrowful tones.

“Well!” The desperate voice of the giant flooded her chamber.

“Ok!”

She untensed, and as the stomach constricted, she held her hands in front of her and pushed off the bottom with her feet. Then, realizing she forgot to take a breath before the air was crushed out of her, she panicked. Her lungs burned, and even as her hands left the fleshy tunnel and touched air, she passed out.

Yonah choked and felt the body of the human enter his chest, renewing him with strength. Filled fresh with resolve to get this human out of him alive, he doubled his efforts, and soon enough a body was sliding out his mouth.

Sophia had anticipated this and was in the sink. She grabbed Zelda’s wrists and pulled. The larger woman fell on top of her in a heap. Sophia pulled off her helmet. Zelda’s eyes were closed but she was breathing.

A few seconds later she gasped back to consciousness. Sophia hugged her.

“You’re so stupid!” Sophia was crying, “So so stupid!”

Zelda laughed and then cowered as the shadow of Yonah’s head and shoulders loomed over them. His face was very red and his eyes a bit bloodshot and bleary from forcing himself to vomit. But he was smiling, even if he was wheezing.

“You wouldn’t really have come after me, would you?”

Sophia dropped Zelda with a splash and put her arms on her hips.

“I sure would have!”

She helped Zelda stand and led her to the faucet, which Yonah turned back on. Zelda took a cold and welcome shower, in her clothes which were quite possibly ruined. And Sophia finally explained everything. Especially about her curse. It took a lot of repeated statements about the half formed nature of the enchantment and the state of being glass, and saying over and over again that yes, it made her safe to be eaten.

Once clean but still in shock, wrapped in a warm towel and given a cup of tea that Yonah brewed, which smelled much better than whatever Sophia had made. That batch had been left to steep too long anyway. They moved to the living room, Yonah in his armchair, Sophia in his lap, and Zelda on the coffee table.

It wasn’t the most comfortable of midnight tea times, but Zelda noted how calm Sophia was as the half-giant played with her braided hair and stroked her back and arm. Almost like one would with a cat, only Sophia was a person. In fact she was a person Yonah was charged with protecting and teaching.

Sophia had made her promise she would not tell anyone about the glass curse, for if that information made it to her father… Zelda agreed, Ben might just kill Yonah, but at the very least Sophia would be taken away, and her place was here. All her life she had wanted to learn magic, and now she had a teacher and a friend.

Zelda was extended an invitation to spend the night, and she accepted without hesitation. As her adrenaline wore off, she was on the verge of falling asleep, and Sophia already nodded off a few times. In fact she startled away when Yonah stood up, but stayed in his hand as he carried her and Zelda to the bedroom.

They were placed on the nightstand as he changed back into pajamas, and left to brush his teeth. Zelda walked over to examine the large golden birdcage. Through the bars she could see a suspended bed as well as a vanity and a few ornate chests and drawers.

“So you are kept in a cage!” she said.

“Not a locked one,” Sophia pointed out. “Yonah figured he’d uphold at least some of the traditions of evil giants. Though… I only use it about a two thirds of the time.”

Zelda was about to ask why when Yonah sat on his bed and Sophia took a running jump and landed on his pillow.

“You can sleep in my bed if you like, but if I were to make a suggestion-” She looked up at Yonah, who carefully lay down- “Yonah makes for a better one!”

Having just taken a trip into the giant's stomach Zelda was not inclined to get so close to him. Sure, she let him pick her up, but being held and sleeping either on top of him or in his embrace were different things. Even if Sophia was looking at her with a hint of excitement, like they were kids again and this was a sleepover. It wasn’t. It was a botched fairytale.

“I’ll take the cage,” she said, bowing her head a bit, “Goodnight Sophia. and you too, Yonah.”

Of course the bed in the cage was luxurious, with the softest blankets and comfiest pillows. It swayed gently and Zelda started to question Sophia’s statement that Yonah was somehow a better bed, but fell asleep before the thoughts fully formed.

---

She woke up dazed and confused, wondering where she was and how she had ended up in a cage! Alarm pulsed through her, chasing away her grogginess away and pulling along the memories of the previous day. The attempt at rescue, finding out Sophia was just fine. Being… eaten… and then spat up! That had all happened.

Normally she started her mornings with exercises and stretches, so why should that change? The cage was roomy enough and the bars were perfect for doing things like pull-ups.

“What are you doing?”

Looking up, Zelda saw Sophia on the nightstand. Zelda had her legs hooked on the bars and was doing crunches. She did one more, then held herself up, one hand around a bar.

“Knights don’t stay strong by slacking off,” Zelda said, and continued her reps.

“I’ve been telling Sophia that she should work out in the mornings,” Yonah came to stand next to Sophia. Sophia whipped her head around.

“But I don’t need to!” She cried.

“It would be good if you could get around here without my carrying you,” he pointed out.

“I do that just fine!”

“You could do better, I don’t want you falling off things while I’m not here!”

Zelda decided to tune them out. This didn’t concern her. Until.

“Fine!” and Sophia climbed onto the cage and to the door. Yonah disappeared out of the room.

“Zelda, could you show me some exercises that might make me a better climber?”

Zelda dropped to the floor. “I certainly could!”

“I’ve never known Her Royal Highness to be so easily convinced to do something she didn’t want to do,” Zelda pointed out as she showed Sophia how to use the bars of her cage to build up her arm strength.

“Yeah well, I only agreed to after he agreed to do so with me.”

Yonah returned about ten minutes later, freshly shaved. Out of a dresser, he fished a pair of overalls and thick plaid shirt, and from a wardrobe on top took out a smaller outfit, which he handed off to Sophia. Zelda felt suddenly self conscious in her undersilks, which weren’t exactly fresh and clean, nor proper clothes.

Turns out Yonah had a set of clothes for her as well. Or at least the magic wardrobe did. Nothing fancy, but Sophia wasn’t wearing normal royal apparel. In fact she had on overalls. Except for her long intricate braid and sparkling golden tiara, she looked like a commoner. A farmer.

The wizard did too, though with his bulky figure and hairy arms he looked more like a lumberjack who wouldn’t be out of place living in a cabin in the woods, not a grand magic tower. Zelda was still the odd one out but at least she wasn’t in what were essentially underwear.

“Are you going to stay for breakfast?” Sophia asked.

Oh she absolutely was. There was no way she wanted to make the trek back to the city on an empty stomach. SHIT.

“The pastries!” she wailed with despair.

Yonah and Sophia looked at each other in confusion.

Back in the kitchen, Zelda retrieved the satchel, which was right where she had dropped it last night. Miserably she showed Sophia, who understood her sorrow immediately.

“You brought me koftashen?” she looked at Yonah, “These were my favorite from back home! But they do taste the best when fresh.”

Yonah had been watching curiously and one corner of his mouth turned up.

“How long ago were these baked?” he asked.

“About a day,” Zelda said, “almost exactly a day.”

“Perfect,” he held out his hand expectantly.

Zelda took back the koftashen protectively. What if he just ate them! They could still be decent, even if they spent the night in the sack. They wouldn’t even be a proper bite for the wizard; he couldn’t appreciate them!

“Oh! Do give them to him, Zelda,” Sophia didn’t want to spoil the surprise.

She hesitated but trusted her friend.

With the pastries in his palm his cupped them in his hands. Yonah’s eyes began to glow and he brought his hands to his mouth. Zelda was about to protest when Yonah blew into his hands and light flashed between his fingers. When he opened them up the savory smells spread out in a wave.

“My friend Shoshana is a baker, she invented this spell,” he said, “As long as it’s only been a day or two, it can make most baked goods nearly fresh again. It doesn’t work on everything, but I had to try!”

Sophia had gotten out a small plate and took the hot koftashen from Yonah’s hand. Small for Yonah that is, since it was a serving platter. “Smells like it worked!” she declared.

Yonah worked quickly to set up before the goods cooled down. First he placed the princess and knight on the kitchen table, which had on top of it a smaller human sized table. It had only one chair, and no plates or utensils. Then He got the additional arrangements and to Zelda’s surprise, two more human sized chairs.

She watched with fascination as the half-giant took a pouch from his overall’s pocket and took out a small pinch of powder which he dabbed onto his tongue. Then he placed his hands on the table and said a spell in a language she recognized as giant but could not understand the words (Knights learn some giant, but mostly phrases needed to challenge them to battle). There was a puff of grey smoke and the wizard was hanging off the edge of the table but hauled himself up. Again Zelda was impressed, this time by his strength.

He was still very large, probably a foot and half taller than herself, but should he claim to be human Zelda would believe it. Even with his very giant-folk fangs. There were plenty of humans with strange anatomical features, usually a manifestation of fey blood. Fairies certainly loved to fuck with humans in every way possible.

It was definitely weird for all of them to be sitting at the human table. Yonah might look convincingly human, but he was meant to be a half-giant. Also, she and Sophia watched in anticipation as Yonah took a bite out of a koftashen. There was a palpable expectation for him to like Sophia’s favorite local confection.

Inside the soft dough was a mixture of beef and lamb, and there was a crunch of collard greens. He recognized a lot of the spices as the flavor spread across his tongue, though there were aspects to the flavor he could not identify. He couldn’t call it a new favorite of his, but

“This is very delicious!” he declared and Sophia beamed, finally taking a bite of her own, Zelda following suit.

Yonah finished his rather quickly and got up to make himself the rest of his breakfast while the humans managed to fill up on koftashen. He also got himself a cup of coffee. Sophia didn’t drink it, but he asked Zelda, and she did.

“I’m sorry this quest was a dud,” Sophia said, and Zelda stiffened.

Should she talk about her failure so soon?

“It’s not your fault, I should have done more research,” Zelda said, “I got a little ahead of myself at the prospect of rescuing a friend.”

Sophia took a second pastry.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t eventually rescue someone royal.” She said it with her mouth full, and Zelda tried not to laugh, “Just not me. If I had to guess” she tapped the koft against her chin, “Probably Sasha!”

“S-Sasha?”

The wizard returned but didn’t interrupt the conversation, and tucked into his breakfast of buckwheat and fish.

“They’re 18 now, and I know they want to have a fairytale.” Sophia took another bite before continuing, and Zelda was way too flustered to respond in the meantime, “And I know you have a crush on them.”

Yonah almost choked, and Zelda nearly fainted.

“Oh come on, I saw how you two danced at The Party.”

Zelda remembered that very clearly, but it was 5 years ago and Sophia still remembered it too. How many other people knew?

“And how you both hugged and cried the day you left for knight school.”

It was embarrassing having her feelings exposed in front of what was essentially a stranger, even if he was Sophia’s friend. But Sophia’s words filled her with hope. How could she have been so stupid! Of course she was meant to complete a tale with Sasha. Everything made perfect sense, now that she thought about it.

Finally it was time to leave. They all went up to the workshop and Zelda put on her armor. Yonah had moved it into a workbench drawer last night, though Zelda couldn’t think when he could have done that.

“Shiny things left out tend to be stolen by the giant crows,” Yonah said, “They don’t bother people much, but you have to be careful with your stuff.”

Nechesh was waiting in the orchard, overstuffed on magic apples but able to travel. Though she wouldn’t let Zelda mount her until she convinced Yonah to give them a bushel of apples to travel with. While Yonah gathered the apples, Sophia and Sasha said their farewells.

“Guess I’ll see you at the wedding!” Zelda said. 2 months was much shorter than 5 years but it still felt like a long time before seeing her friend again.

“Make sure you dance with Sasha,” Sophia advised, and Zelda nodded.

Yonah finished fascening the basket to Nechesh and Zelda climbed on her back.

Spurring her horse to a trot, she took one look back to wave goodbye. The little princess and her guardian wizard waving from the garden looked picture perfect.

“I’ll save one dance for you,” Zelda said before out of earshot.

“I’ll hold you to that!”

[FIN] if you liked PLEASE REBLOG!

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[Thanks for reading! please reblog! Or message me telling me what you think! I crave feedback! For more mystic woods go to vore-scientist.tumblr.com/tagged/mystic+woods+story or search ‘mystic woods story’]

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