#bree we waited MONTHS for THIS???!!!! FIX IT!!!!

[crazyk-imagine]

Bree's New Friend

Pairing: Adam Davenport x Bionic!reader

Characters: Bree Davenport, Bionic!reader, Adam Davenport, Chase Davenport, Leo Dooley, Donald Davenport, Tasha Davenport

Warnings: Fluff, classic lab rats things, has this been in the drafts for months, maybe, did I finally come back to it, also maybe, Leo and Chase being besties, Bree trying to set her girl up, Adam lowkey acting like a simp, reader can protect herself, Adam is a sweetheart, Leo is still a dork, Chase is pouty when he can't be bionic, aka use his skills with reader

Word Count: 1,137

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"Okay, I have a question," Bree asks, taking a seat in front of her stepmom.

Tasha looks up from her mixing bowl with a raised brow. "Which is?"

She avoids the woman’s gaze. "I want to invite someone over, but I don't want any of the guys here."

"You need my help making sure the house is empty except for you and your friend? Is this perhaps a boyfriend?"

"No, it's a girl. She's really nice and I want to be friends outside of school, but she says we can't meet at her house because her parents don't want random people in her house."

"How soon are you thinking?"

"I was hoping for something later this week but-"

"Done."

She pauses, wondering if she heard her correctly. "Wait- really?"

The woman nods, "you rarely bring your friends around and I want you to enjoy your teen years while you can."

Bree squeals and runs over to her, hugging her. "Thank you. Thank you."

Adam, Chase, and Leo walk through the door. "Did we miss something?"

Tasha shakes her head. "No."

Donald steps behind his wife, leaning against the counter. "You're lying, aren't you?" She sighs.

"She asked me if she could have a friend come over and I said yes. What's so wrong about that?"

He raises a brow. "Is this a-"

"No, she's in three of Bree's classes and she wants to hang out with this girl outside of school."

"When does this happen?"

"Tomorrow which means we need you and the boys out of the house."

"Okay. Wait- what?"

-

The boys’ glance at one another, planning on pranking their sister and unfortunately bringing her friend down with her.

"I'm so happy we could finally hangout and not talk about school," Bree tells you as you two walk through the door.

"Me too." You stand beside the door, waiting for her to close it. "But could we actually talk about school for just one second?"

The girl rolls her eyes, "that's not why I wanted to hang out with you."

You chuckle, "I know, I know but if we could finish this one thing then we can watch trashy tv or something."

"The quiz?"

The three boys pop their heads up from behind the stair rail.

"I have two more questions and then I'm done for the day."

She sighs, "fine."

"I promise if we finish before, what time is it?"

She looks at the microwave, "two."

You let out a whisper under your breath a victory scream. "Great. If we finish before the frozen yogurt shop closes, we can go. I mean, if your stepmom lets us."

"She will."

"Are you sure? We didn't even ask her."

She nods, "she will. I don't normally have friends over."

You don't say anything. She realizes her mistake and tries to fix it.

"I mean- I have friends all the time. I practically throw a party every day."

You place your hands on her shoulders. "Calm down. It's okay, I'm not judging you. I literally told you I haven't brought friends over and you didn't judge me. Why would I judge you?"

"You're not?" She asks with genuine confusion. You’re acting much nicer than the other girls at school.

"No. Now, let's finish this quiz so we can get fro yo."

The boys pull back and devise their plan.

Leo and Chase enter the living room.

Bree groans, “I told you guys to go away- wait- where’s Adam?”

You narrow your eyes and set your notebook on the coffee table.

Adam pops up behind you and grabs your arms to scare you.

You geoleap behind him and grab his arm, holding it behind his back to restrain him, aiming for the other arm when breaks free and tackles you to the ground.

He unintentionally uses his laser eyes barely giving you enough time to pull your shield.

“You’re bionic?” Everyone but Adam shouts, he continues to stare at you.

You slowly lower your shield when he stops.

“Who else is bionic? I feel like I need to get on this trend,” Leo comments.

Chase turns to him with a disappointed look. “It’s not a trend, Leo.”

He shrugs, “doesn’t stop me from dreaming.”

Donald and Tasha walk through the door. “What’s going on here?”

You’re alarmed and geoleap onto the couch.

“You-” The older man pauses, calling out your name.

“You know her?” Tasha asks.

“When did you guys complete geoleaping and why did no one tell me?” He takes your hand, helping you off the couch.

You shrug, “a few weeks ago, there’s minor glitches but pretty useful nonetheless.” You cross your arms and lean closer to him. “I didn’t realize these were your kids.”

“I didn’t realize you were my daughter's friend, so surprise.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You don’t know what else we’ve done. Don’t act like a rich millionaire.”

“I don’t have to act.”

“Donald, are you seriously fighting with a child?”

He looks away from you, “no.”

You turn around back to Bree. “Ready?”

“God, yes.” She grabs her bag before pulling you with her.

“Wait up!” Adam calls out as the other two follow behind him.

She groans, “this is a girl’s trip which means no boys.”

“We’re still coming with you,” Leo adds.

You pull her beside you to whisper in her ear. You pull back and see Chase frowning and smirk, “couldn’t listen in, could you?”

“How did you-”

“I’m awesome, that’s why.”

“That doesn’t justify-”

Adam nudges his arm. “Shut up, dude.” He smiles at you before gesturing for you to lead the way.

“I like this one,” you point to him. “He’s nice and not annoying.”

Leo chuckles, directing Chase’s annoyance onto him.

-

You grab your things and are about to head out when Adam stops you.

“Hey- uh- I wanted to say sorry.”

“For what?”

“You know,” he furrows his brows. “For earlier.”

You wave him off, “you’re all good. I can handle it but thanks for the apology.”

He smiles and holds the door open for you. “Are- if anything that happened today scared you,” he pauses. “I hope you’d still want to be friends with my sister.”

You smile, “I’m still coming around, you guys are fun and can actually understand me in more ways than the other kids at school can.”

“Cool.”

“See you, big guy.”

He waits until you get into your parents’ car.

“I want to be a bridesmaid if you two get married,” Bree tells him.

He jumps and frowns, “not cool.”

She shrugs, “I’m just saying, I’m the reason you two will have gotten together.”

He chuckles, “you so aren’t.”

“I totally am.”

“Would you two shut up already?” Chase calls out.

“We’re trying to watch the movie- AH!” Leo screams and tosses the bowl of popcorn up. 

[gotham-ruaidh]

thermodynamics - a 7x03 story

Ian had been gone from camp for some time – his departure had been rather sudden, following a brief but promising glimpse of pheasants in the treetops – but not too long to start worrying.

Had they pushed harder this morning, they would have made it out of the forest by nightfall. But tonight would be another night sleeping rough beneath the trees.

Claire didn’t mind.

That afternoon, as she unpacked the saddlebags and gathered wood for the campfire – Jamie within earshot, speaking in Gaelic to the horses as they drank from a nearby spring – she realized why.

For months – since the fire, the loss of her children and grandchildren, even the whole terrible night with the Browns and the even more terrible aftermath – a small, pinching weight had settled between her shoulderblades. A low, dull ache that no herb or gentle massage could cure.

Psychosomatic, to be sure – but that didn’t make the weight of it any less crushing.

But today, as she bent to gently set down an armful of branches for their fire and stood up, reaching to soothe the ache that she knew would be there…it wasn’t.

She puzzled it out as she continued about her chores. Finding the skillet and spices and knife for cooking; digging out hers and Jamie’s bedroll and setting it half behind a bush; worrying the pouch full of gold bullets sewn within her pocket.

It was the first time in years – since they’d come to the Ridge, really – that she hadn’t had some kind of schedule. Free to take an extra day to get to Wilmington. Free to wander, to explore glades and caves and stop to admire especially large trees.

Free to spend more time with Jamie. Not just in the evenings over dinner or before bed, but to share all moments of the day. Sharing space, and food, and sights, and smiles.

A warm hand settled on her shoulder – and she startled.

“Hush, a nighean,” Jamie soothed. “I’m sorry, I thought ye had heard me.”

Swallowing, she turned to face him. Touched his stubbly cheek with the back of a hand. Worrying the new fine lines at the creases of his eyes.

“It’s all right.” Her voice just above a whisper. “I missed you.”

A fleeting half smile, his hands enveloping her free hand, squeezing. “I told ye I wouldnae go far. I didn’t.”

He knew what she would do even before she did – and he was ready, lips soft and strong as she kissed him.

“I miss you.”

He drew her closer, arms locked around her waist. “We’ve time, before Ian returns…”

Her lips just lightly touched his, beath warm against his mouth. “You must feel it. The need. How strong it is.”

He swallowed, nodding. Touched a small spot in the middle of his chest. “Right here.” His hand settled on her stomach, above her navel. “And here.”

She nodded. “It’s always there, but…more now. Like when we were on the road.”

His hand glided up, tracing the buttons of her shirt, settling on the cool skin of her neck. Eyes locked on hers. Watching her lips part in a small gasp.

He smiled. “Gathering your wee herbs. We fooled nobody – no’ Dougal, or Ned, or Murtagh, or Rupert. Willie, maybe. But I didna care. I had to have you.” Leaned in for a quick kiss. “I wanted your body, but I craved your heart. I have it now, aye?”

Another quick kiss. “I didn’t think I could ever feel this again. Is it because we have lost everything else?”

Frowning, he pulled back a bit. “What are you saying? We haven’t, Claire.”

“We have.” Her hands skimmed his shoulders – worried a new tear in the back of his shirt that she’d need to mend later – eyes fixed on a tree behind him. “We’ve lost our home, our family, our responsibilities. Our routine. No more farming or whisky making for you. No more patients for me. No more waiting for Missus Bug’s dinner, or sitting with you in your study as you talk to the tenants. No more…” She cleared her throat. “No more reading with Bree and Jem by the fire.”

High above, a hawk cried out.

“Don’t hide from me. Look at me, please.”

She didn’t want to – but she did. Found his eyes shining with the same tears.

“Do you no’ remember what I said to you once? That nothing is lost, only changed, Claire.”

She did remember – a night in these same woods, not too long after enduring yet another loss.

“We haven’t lost our memories. Our family isnae wi’ us right now, but they’re alive and safe. Our tenants can bide wi’out us for a while, but we’re coming back. When we’re in Wilmington, and in Scotland, you’ll have patients again and I’ll find my way again. Changes, aye, but not losses.”

He brought his forehead against hers. “I haven’t lost you, Claire. You haven’t lost me.”

She closed her eyes, nodding.

“I can’t even bear to think about what’s to come. If I was to lose you on the crossing.”

“Dinna think of it.” He kissed her cheek.

She shifted slightly and found his mouth in another kiss.

Another kiss.

“We’ve time afore Ian returns wi’ supper, a nighean. That is, if you’re not too decrepit to lie wi’ me in the leaves.”

She smiled against his lips. “I’ll grab a blanket.”

When Ian returned with a pheasant, sometime later as dusk settled in the forest, he frowned that the fire had not yet been started. But he lit it, set to work plucking the bird, sorted the spices and knives. Knowing his auntie and uncle would be quite hungry.

[lucasbarr]

Just finished Bees and yet again the Bree + Roger subplots are the least interesting to me but I’m glad we got more of William and of Ian and Rachel! It kinda dragged on a bit with the day-to-day monotony of the Ridge (which I usually like but this was a lot) but overall I enjoyed the book!

Major Spoilers under Read More

John Cinnamon is my new favorite character! He is such a sweet young man and I think I’m going to go back and read the Lord John series now too! Because it felt like I was missing something with the whole Percy subplot in MOBY + this book having not read it.

Like lowkey why is everyone other than Jaime and Claire’s immediate offspring (sans Willie) more interesting? Idk how Diana managed to create such an unlikeable little family unit with Brianna, Roger, and their kids (tho I do like Jeremiah, not so much Amanda) but such a rich supporting cast!

Also why give Brianna a heart condition if it’s just magically going to be fixed by her being pregnant?!

I will say though it’s interesting that Davy isn’t a time traveller like his siblings. Makes you wonder if Fergus (who I am also choosing to believe is La Comte’s son) is a traveller or not and what this means for Claire and her family. Also makes one wonder if Percy’s family that he married into or even Fergus himself might be one of her ancestors 👀

The Richardson subplot is…😬 Why would you make an abolitionist the main villian! Not to mention he has African American ancestry! Diana WTF? Your racism is showing in this book 🤦‍♀️ Not to mention the plot with Ulysses/Joseph Stevens… like Diana why???

I am also choosing to believe that Totis is Ian’s son! He is such a sweet addition to the household, even if the reasons were a bit strenuous in the book. Though I am also intrigued by the Jenny/Joseph Brant’s Uncle romance. Though I don’t know why Claire didn’t tell Jenny that the war would be over in a matter of months? 🤔

Makes me wonder why she’s decided to kill off Percy and what this means for the Percy & Fergus storyline.

And why in hell Hal want to see Ben! Like I was under the impression that Amaranthus was in cahoots with Ben and then she went to see him and saw him with a other woman which came out of nowhere. Honestly it would have been more interesting if she’d known and went be with him and left Trevor with the Willie and Lord John. Bye maybe the whole widow thing is a ruse and she lied about the other woman and maybe she is in on it?

Though it makes me wonder if Hal made the poison to poison Ben…

Like I wonder if William will take Amatanthus up on her offer and pass off his title and estates to their kid. Like obviously that’s what Ben did with her and why I thought that Amarantus was more involved with the plan than we saw (esp with her reaction when she went to see him) though I’m dubious about whether her account of the events is true or not.

I mean the way she brazenly suggested the plan that Ben had gone through with seemed suspicious to me!

I think Richardson is involved with Rob Cameron in some way and that the gold is going to come into play. Again, weird choice of villain with Richardson being an abolitionist but I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

And also WTF happen to Ulysses? Is he dead? I know Duncan was one of his men but like why didn’t you just tell him she was in Nova Scotia? Just be vague and then he might not have tried to ya know oust Jaime and that whole skirmish!

Like I want to see less filler (or just more with beloved characters like Lizzie!) and more streamlining from the editor on the major plot points!

Also WTF happened to Buck!

[calpalirwin]

Choices

Summary: Ashton Irwin thought he had everything he needed in life in the form of his daughter. Funny the difference a choice can make.

A/N: Last chapter (finally!) Stay tuned for the epilogue to see how this all ends. Be sure to catch up on Chapters 1-7, up on my masterlist!

Content: I plead the fifth

Word Count: 1.7k

And away, and away we go!

__

Chapter 8

I decided not to tell my family about Taylor. To me, there was no point in arguing it. Taylor was back in my life because she was developing a relationship with Cassidy. It had nothing to do with me.

That didn’t stop my fingers from shaking as I made the drive to my parents or settle the churning in my stomach. “You okay?” Nic asked lowly, gripping my hand as we walked up to my parents door.

I offered her a wry smile. “Yeah,” I nodded.

“You sure?”

I nodded again before turning my attention to Cassidy. “Ready for your birthday?!”

“Yeah!” she cheered, jumping up onto the porch and pushing the door open.

“She’ll show up, Ash,” Nic reassured me. “She won’t let Cass down.”

I shrugged. If I thought I was having a hard time handling my nerves with the thought of Taylor being in my parents house again after all these years, Taylor probably had it worse. And as much as I didn’t want her to disappoint Cassidy, I couldn’t exactly blame her if she didn’t show up.

I could hear the chatter in the kitchen, voices high with excitement. I felt Nic’s hand tighten around mine- a silent assurance that I was working myself up in a frenzy over nothing, that she would stand by my side through it all. The tension in my shoulders eased slightly as I met her gaze, hopeful and warm. I raised our hands to graze my lips over her knuckles. “Well, here goes nothing.”

~~~

The party was in full swing. My parents backyard was filled with the joyful shrieks of kindergarteners while their parents milled around the edges of the lawn, watching the chaos or making small talk with other parents. 

There was a yelled, “Daddy!” followed by a hand tugging on my own. 

I spurted into my drink, looking apologetically at Calum as I shifted my gaze from him to my daughter. “Yes, love?”

“When can I open my presents?”

“Soon, love. Why don’t you go sit down, and I’ll get you some lunch. Do you want a hotdog, or a cheeseburger?”

“Momma!” Cassidy squealed suddenly, my question forgotten as she took over running. 

Taylor stilled on the back porch, crouching down to wrap Cassidy in a hug. “Happy Birthday, sweetheart!”

I felt the eyes of my friends and family burn into my skin. “Dude…” Calum was the first to make a sound, shaking his head sadly. 

“You’re talking to her again?” Luke asked.

“This isn’t going to end well…” Mike muttered under his breath. 

“What is she doing here?” Lauren demanded.

My friends, parents, and siblings looked at me, expecting an answer to Lauren’s question. “It was what Cass wanted,” I said in a tone that dared them to keep pressing the issue.

While my family swallowed their protests, my friends weren’t so compliant. “Ash,” Calum said lowly, nodding his head off to the side.

“Watch Cass for a moment?” I asked Nic.

“Of course,” she smiled encouragingly.

“What the fuck, Ash?” they immediately rounded on me after we stepped out of earshot.

“”It was what Cass wanted,” I repeated. “What’s there to explain?”

“You let a six year old call the shots, Ash?!”

“No! I supported her! She wanted to meet her mom. I made sure that happened.”

“Alright,” Calum accepted my line of thought. “But what does this mean for you and Taylor? For you and Nic?”

“Yeah, Ash. Can we even trust Taylor? Last time she left it wasn’t pretty,” Luke reminded us.

“You think I haven’t thought about that? If Taylor leaves again… I don’t know what I’ll do. All I want to do is protect, Cass. But she has a right to know her mom.”

“We all want what’s best for, Cass. But who’s looking out for what’s best for you?” Mike questioned.

“No one needs to look after me, Mike. I got this. I know where I stand.”

“Does Taylor?”

Mike’s words would haunt me for weeks to come.

~~~

About a month after Cassidy’s birthday, I let Taylor take Cassidy for a night. Even though this wasn’t the first night Cassidy hadn’t spent with me, I never got used to how silent the apartment was when she was gone. And while I was happy Taylor was proving herself, part of me wished she would fail so the knot in my stomach about possibly giving Cassidy up for longer stints of time would go away.

“You okay?” Nic’s soft voice pulled me from my thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“You look like you’re a million miles away. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“I don’t know how I’m gonna go every weekend without her. I don’t know if I want to. I just-”

“You’re her dad. Nobody can take that from you.”

“It doesn’t make me miss her less.”

“I know.”

After a night tangled in the sheets where Nic did her best to distract me- and distract me she did- she left shortly after a lazy morning spent in bed. “So now you’re leaving me, too?” I pouted, watching her get dressed.

“Hey,” she turned to point a finger at me. “That’s not playing fair.”

I rolled across the bed to pull her down with me, her yelp of surprise bouncing off the walls. “You don’t wanna distract me some more?” I whispered in her ear, pressing my lips along the column of her throat.

Her response was breathy as she told me, “Oh, that’s really not fair.”

“Alright, alright,” I chuckled, letting her go. “I know you got work to do. You’ll be back later, tonight?”

“Fingers crossed,” she said, kissing my cheek and getting out of bed again.

~~~

It was a slow crawl to the middle of the afternoon before the knock on the door that got cut off by Cassidy barreling in, screeching, “Daddy!”

“Love!” I matched her enthusiasm, crouching just in time to catch her body flying full force at me, the momentum carrying me onto my back, both of us filling up the apartment with our laughter. “Did you have fun with Momma?” I asked, sitting us upright.

“Uh-huh! Can she stay for dinner?!”

“Uh…” I looked up and over at Taylor who hovered in the doorway, Cassidy’s bag still slung over her shoulder.

“Plllleeeeeaaaasssseeee?!”

“If she wants to, yeah, love.”

Cassidy bounded to her feet, running back over to Taylor. “Will you stay, Momma?”

“Sure, sweetheart. But just for dinner, okay?”

“Okay!” Cassidy agreed, and we all knew in that moment that Taylor would be staying for a lot longer than just dinner.

“Night, love,” I said a few hours later, pulling the blanket up snugly around my little girl.

“Night Daddy. Night Momma. Love you.”

“Night, Cass. Love you, too, sweetheart,” Taylor smiled at her from the bedroom doorway.

“Love you,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“See, Ash?” Taylor asked me as I pulled Cassidy’s door closed.

“See what?”

“This,” she gestured about. “We could be this. Raising Cass together in one house.”

I rolled my eyes, moving past her towards the living room. “Yeah, I tried that once. You didn’t want the same.”

“I want it now,” she said, following after me, her hand catching my arm. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

“Of course it does. Cass is happy.”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yes. Are you happy?”

“Yes… but even if I wasn’t, it’s not my happiness that matters.”

“So?”

“So, what, Tay?”

“So why don’t we try to be a family? I’m her mother, Ashton. Doesn’t she deserve to see us try? For her?”

“Don’t,” I warned, pulling back. “We tried us already. I’m struggling as is to trust you in Cass’ life. You think I’m crazy enough to trust you in mine again? You broke me, Taylor.”

“So you haven’t thought of it? Us being together again?”

“Of course I thought that!” I whisper-screamed at her. “I spent years hoping that you would call, or show up on my doorstep ready to be a mother to her. That you and I could be the way we used to be again. But you didn’t. And eventually I stopped hoping that moment would come.”

“If you hoped for it once, you can hope for it again. You said you didn’t trust me, but you learned how to do that again. What’s to say you can’t learn to love me again?”

“Because-” I started, but her lips were on mine before I could remind her that I was in love with Nic now, someone who never made me doubt what we had the way Taylor did.

I didn’t hear the front door open, just the soft gasp of a heart shattering like glass.

“Nic!” I pushed Taylor back, panic in my chest as I wheeled around, but she was already leaving just as quickly as she had entered. “Nic, it’s not what it looks like!” I called out as I ran after her.

“Doesn’t look like what, Ashton?!” she demanded, turning sharply around to face me, her face screwed up as she fought back against crying. “Doesn’t look like you were kissing, Taylor?! Is that what you were going to say?!”

“Baby, please!” I begged, not knowing where to even begin trying to get her to explain, just knowing that I needed to try, because in four months she had completely shifted my world on its head, and I wouldn’t know how to begin again without her in it.

“I stood by you while you kept your walls up because of Cass. I stood by every insecurity you had thinking you weren’t good enough because you were a dad, and had been hurt in the past. I even supported you through getting Taylor back in your life. God, Ashton, I fell in love with you, and your daughter! I fell in love with everything! And all I asked in return, all I ever asked was do NOT blindside me! And you couldn’t even do that!”

Each word pierced into me and I was useless to stop it. Again, I wracked my brain for the right words to say, but nothing could fix the look of betrayal in her eyes. A look I fully deserved because as much as I had tried to do right by Cassidy, I had ended up hurting the next most important love of my life. And she was slipping through my fingers, and I couldn’t stop it if I tried. “Nic,” I tried anyway, my voice sounding as broken as we both felt.

__

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[renee-writer]

Faith's Journey Home Chapter 16

AO3

The two healers stand over the things that will, pray fully, make a type of medicine that will help their young patient. Ian had gathered up the foxglove. He waits with Roger and Bree. All three nervously wait. Ian holds Hannah close, thankful it isn’t her, even as he prays, in both the Gaelic and Mohawk, for his niece.

Roger and Brianna hold each other and Mandy. Roger tries to be strong for his wife but, he is terrified. It is his biggest fear come true. That something would happen to his children or wife, something Claire couldn’t fix. What would they have done had Faith not been here? Would they do if this doesn’t work? He knows. They will have to go back through, to a more modern time where she can be treated.

“This should be right.” Faith says. Her mama nods.

“I believe so.”

Jamie, who stands across from them asks,” How will you give it to her?” Claire pulls out the springe that Bee had made. He pales. “You will stab the wee bairn with that?”

“We must papa to get it to where it will help her.”

“Alright. Shall I go get them?”

“Yes please.”

They walk in slowly. Ian and Jamie follow. Bree hands her daughter to her sister. “This will work?”

“We have high hopes.” She replies. “It has to be injected.”

“Do what is needed.” Roger says. Claire holds her granddaughter down. Ian tightens his arms around Hannah. Jamie comes up and speaks to Mandy using nonessential words, the way he does to sooth a skittish horse. Bree whispers a prayer before injecting the medicine in her niece's arm. The baby let’s out a scream. She has never been hurt in her seven weeks of life.

Bree picks her up, rocking her and cooing to her. “When will we know?”

“Soon. Her blue tint will disappear.” All eyes are on her hands as they wait.

“Shall I take Jemmy home and see if Mandy is alright?” He sits by her side. She is nursing Salomé. The other children play quietly in the other room. “If you are alright?”

“I will be better when I know what is happening with Mandy. Yes please do.” He nods and kisses her and his daughters tiny head.

“I will be back as soon as possible.”

He and Jemmy go to his house first. Finding it empty, they head up to the main house. Hearing voices in the surgery, they turn that way.

“Oh thank God and you!” Bree calls out as her brother enter.

“I’ve brought Jemmy home and have news. First, how is the wee lass?”

“Thanks to our sister and mama, she is wonderful.”

“Come in Fergus and we will explain.” Claire offers. They enter and Jemmy heads to his mama and baby sister.

“Mandy is alright?”

“She is now.”

They explain. “Oh how marvelous that you knew what to do!” Fergus exclaims. “We have good news too. Our newest daughter has arrived.”

“She is cute. Looks like Uncle Fergus.” Jemmy adds.

“All went well?”

“It did. She slipped right out. Breathing well. Nursing well.” He stands tall, “Her name is Salomé Anīas.”

“Beautiful.” Faith declares. “Peaceful Grace.”

“That is what Germaine said.” He says with a laugh, “Said that is what is needed.” They all laugh.

“Jamie, I will head back with Fergus to check on them.”

“Aye Sassanch.”

“I can go too.”

“You just had a baby two weeks ago. You need the bed. I have this.”

“She is right. Thank you Faith. I will never be able to repay you.”

“Seeing her nice and pink and the happiness and peace in you and Roger’s face is more then enough.”

“Come to bed Faith.” Ian leads her out.

Bree and Roger head home with their children. Claire and Fergus head out. Jamie stands in the quiet surgery and lifts his eyes up.

“Thank you God!”

A month passes with Mandy continuing to do well. She still fusses at the injections. As they are keeping her alive, neither her doctor nor parents mind. She always gets good cuddles after.

Jamie runs into the surgery. His eyes are blown wide and his wife raises and hurries to him. “What?”

“There’s a storm coming, a bad one. We need to get everyone to the cellar. Fergus and Marsali are in theirs with the children.” She nods and stands. It is then rushing about, gathering their family. Murtagh runs to Bree and Roger’s and Jamie heads to Faith and Ian. Claire gathers the servants. They are soon gathered around the opening of the cellar. Jamie does a quick headcount. Bree, holding Mandy tight, Roger holds Jemmy’s hand. Ian holds Hannah and Faith stands beside him. Murtagh stands at his left and Claire at his right. The servants surround them. Good.

“It is blowing up a bad one. Sassanch, I am afraid your wee surgery might be hit, the big house too.”

“We can rebuild. We have before.”

“Papa, did you say the surgery?” He nods at his oldest, even as he starts directing people down into the cellar, starting with the servants. “I have to get Mandy’s medicine!” She has to yell over the increasing wind.”

“No Faith! You…” The rest of her papa’s warning is carried away in the wind. She runs, her skirts twisting around her, towards the surgery. The wind grabs the ribbon from her hair, twisting it around her face.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” She thinks as she struggles to get the door open against the wind. Finally she gets it open and enters the relative quiet of the surgery. The wind howls louder outside. She reaches up to the high shelf where her and her mama's secrets are stored. There lays Mandy’s medicine, penicillin, and ether. She gathers them and Bree’s syringe. Grabbing the bag her mama uses for home visits and gently lays them in it. Fastening it and placing it close to her body, she heads back into the wind.

It is a living thing, pulling at her from all sides. She pushes through its, battling her way to the cellar. Suddenly, a huge limb above her, cracks. She braces for it to fall on her and probably kill her. Instead a strong arm grabs her, pulling her away.

She opens her eyes to her husband. ���Ian!” He is attached to a strong rope. Someone inside the cellar holds it. They work their way to it. At the entrance, he shakes her.

“You ever do anything so foolhardy again and I will beat your arse, you understand?”

She nods as a heat spreads through her. It ends in her pelvis. Well, that is interesting. They get inside and her papa grabs her, given her a rough shake. “Never again daughter or you will go over my knee!”

Her mama hugs her but fusses at her too. Her sister though, she takes her into a tight hug. “You are a fool Faith Claire Fraser Murray but I thank you. Oh how I thank you!”

Jamie and Murtagh secures the door and they wait out the storm. Together.

Rollo, feeling deep in his primitive senses, the change of weather, takes the cat gently in his mouth. He lays her down in the center room and lays a top her. His howls join the raging winds as the storm reaches its apex.

Hours later, Jamie carefully opens the door to the cellar. Everything is still, the wind, the whole of the atmosphere. The sky is a beautiful blue, not a cloud among it. He leads his family out and they start to access the damage.

Ian and Faith’s croft house has the roof torn off. Looking at it, Ian recalls, “Rollo!” Hearing his master’s voice, he howls. Ian runs over to the damaged house and opens the door. Rollo comes out with Hope at his heels. “I am so sorry I forget you and your sister.” The wolf-dog just nudges him. All is forgiven.

The surgery has a bit of roof damage too. The insides is a bit disordered by the force of the wind. The main house, minuses a few cracked windows and porch damage, stands unmolested.

“You will stay with us until we get the roof repaired.” Jamie announces. “I will ride out to check on Fergus.” The horses, secured in their stalls, are a bit skittish. He calms them with gentle touches and words. He is soon on his way to check on the rest of his family.

Claire enters the surgery. Some glass bottles lay broken. Her exam table, made of solid oak, lays on its side. She can see the blue sky by looking up. All in all, it could have been much worse.

Roger rides out to check on his house. He finds just a pile of wood. The tornado has torn it apart. He closes his eyes and reminds himself that his family is safe. That is all that matters. They will rebuild. He needs a bigger place anyway, with Mandy. With a tear in his eye, he turns the horse and heads back to tell Bree.

Jamie meets Fergus and his passel of children, heading their way.

“Grand-pére du vent!” Henry-Christian excitingly proclaims.

“Ouí, that it was. How stands your house son?”

“It stands. There is some, how to say, dommages mineurs. “

“Ouí trés bon fils.”

“We had to go to the cellar. Salomé Anīas didn’t like it.” Germaine reports.

“No, she screamed her poor head off.” Marsali adds.

“Let me see my granddaughter.” Marsali hands her over. He cradles her. “ Bonjour Mon amour. I am your grand-pére. You are beautiful.”

“We would like Mama Claire to check her out.” She frowns, “That is if everything is fine at your house.”

“It is. Just some minor damage there too. I don’t know about Roger and Bree’s. He left the same time I did.” He hands the baby back. “Come, let’s introduce Salomé Anīas to the rest of her family.”

“Completely gone.” Roger leans against the door frame, his head down. Bree rests against him. The rest of the family are in the great room with them. Claire cuddles her newest granddaughter.

“We will rebuild.” Jamie declares.

“What is important is, we are all here. No one was hurt.” Claire holds wee Salomé Anīas to her chest.

“Exactly Roger. It will be alright.” His wife adds. They are right, of course. It is just hard to lose all your material possessions.

“You will stay here. We will fix the roofs and the porch and then start to raise your home again.”

“Thank you.”

“Daddy, my vrooms, are they gone?”

“Are they Uncle Roger?” Germaine adds.

“I am afraid so lads. I will make more for you. We also need to make another cradle for Mandy. Will you lads help?”

“Ouí.”

“Aye.”

He smiles down at Bree. He is feeling better. Truly all he needs is right here.

He wants to help and that is why he climbs up on the roof. Granny and Auntie Faith need the surgery to help people. His daddy and the other men are working on the porch of the big house. He has watched them as they fixed the roof of it. He kens what to do.

Roger finishes sawing another piece of wood to go on the porch. He then looks around for his son. “Jemmy, do you want to help take this to grand-pére? Jemmy?” He stands fully up and looks around.

He takes a piece of wood and places it over the hole. Reaching for the hammer, he sways but rights himself.

“Ian, have you seen Jemmy?”

“He was right here just a minute ago.” They both start to look around.

He balances and tries to hammer the nail in. A slight slide and he is falling. He tries to stop the momentum.

“What is it?” Jamie sees them looking about.

“Jemmy is missing.”

Jemmy is falling. With nothing to grab on to, he will slide all the way off. “Help!”

Ian hears him first and starts at a run. His daddy and grand-pére aren’t far behind. They arrive at the surgery in time to see him hit the ground. Roger let’s out an inhuman scream and runs over to him. The child lays on his back, still and pale.

[devilshalf]

Unexpected Treasure - Chapter Two

Fandom: The Hobbit

Summary: A stubborn headed ranger joins the company unaware of the treasure she is about to find.

Pairings: FilixOC  ThorinxBilbo

Chapter warnings: alcohol mentioned, Weapons

Khuzdul

Jargh = Idiot

Burushruka igbulul e = I’m sorry

Chapter One

Chapter Two

“Bilbo!” Arabelle’s voice rang down the street as the small woman bounced her way over waving at the hobbit who had been swaying on his feet “Sorry I’m so late!” She said as she pulled her uncombed hair out of her face and fixed up her dusty jacket, she had been forced to deal with some unruly customers late into the night and had never fancied herself for the mornings regardless.

“That’s alright we were happy to wait.” The young brunette dwarf from the night before emerged from behind a pillar, his blonde brother behind him.

“Belle this is –“ Bilbo started.

“Fili” the blonde stood proud, his chest buffed out “and Kili.” The brunette matched up “At your service.” They bowed in unison.

“Well that was very well rehearsed.” Arabelle smirked as Kili beamed a smile back, Fili’s own smile twinging at his lips as a slight blush developed. “Arabelle.” She offered her own name in good manners and nodded at them both “Bilbo will you join me for a walk to the markets?” He nodded but she noted the two dwarves began to walk alongside them “Did I not just hear your names to not be Bilbo?” She looked at the two boys who sheepishly looked away.

“They are here to protect me Belle.” Bilbo put a hand on her arm, immediately it relaxed under his soft touch.

“Very well.” She smiled as the boys seemed to perk up at her acceptance “I’ve always wanted a few strong men to carry my bags.”

“Well, you are in luck! That is our speciality.” Kili grinned as the four of them entered the market, the boys perhaps regretting the offer to carry the bags as now both arms were filled as Bilbo and Arabelle walked ahead deep in conversation.

“I do need to apologise for how long it has been Bilbo. In truth I have been in Bree for a number of months now and I know how selfish this will sound I just-“ Belle’s eyes trailed over the jewellery of the stall they had found themselves at, though her mind was far from them.

“It’s hasn’t been the same since mother passed” Bilbo finished the sentence for her.

“I am so sorry Bilbo. I have been a terrible friend.” Arabelle wiped the tear that stung at the corner of her eyes quickly moving on as Kili and Fili had caught up and while they spoke in their own language, she could see their disgust at the jewels in front of them.

“I miss her too in fact it is why-“ he fell silent his eyes darting back to Fili and Kili who were still grumbling about the offensive jewels.

“Don’t worry Bilbo, I have a plan for ditching the surveillance. Follow my lead.” Arabelle turned the corner to her street nodding at a boy who raced ahead of them she turned with a smile as sweet as honey.

“You boys have truly been so kind.” She motioned to the bags “and Bilbo did mention that I missed the drink you brought for me last night.” Fili seemed to light up as they continued up a small flight of stairs to the door of what must have been the biggest house on the street. “But alas I must inform you that many a man has tried to flatter me for favour with the girls.” They entered together, Kili and Fili stunned as women seemed to appear from every direction. The bags taken, coats slid off and while Kili seemed to be beaming Fili watched Arabelle’s smile fade “But you will pay my friends what they are due and if I hear of any rudeness, I will have both your balls on my wall.” She came inches from Fili’s face, sighing inwardly; his eyes were an even deeper blue up close. While the two dwarves were then whisked away in a flurry of women, Arabelle pulled a stunned Bilbo towards the back of the house and into a rather plain room when comparing it to the luxury of fine silks and colours that covered the rest of the house.

“Bilbo, what in middle earth is going on?” She asked plainly as she began to pour some tea, a whole table of sweet treats in front of them.

“Nothing.” Bilbo squeaked out, quickly taking a sip of the far too hot tea, spitting it out all over his already dirty vest “Not a clue what you are talking about.”

“So, I see you are still the world’s worst liar.” She quipped as she handed him a glass of milk to cool his tongue “Bilbo if you are in trouble, I can help you.” She watched as Bilbo eyes softened as he looked into hers.

“We are on a quest. I cannot tell you anymore. I promised.” Bilbo said as he wrung his rag of a handkerchief in his hands Arabelle clearly stewing over the very small amount of information. Bilbo worried if she pushed him further, he had signed a contract and he imagined the dwarves would not take kindly to him breaking it only days into the quest.

“I do not need to know anything specific but is this quest dangerous?” Bilbo’s face as he recalled the word incineration was all the confirmation she needed “Then I am coming with you.”

“Belle you don’t-“

“I don’t need to know Bilbo, I am coming.” Arabelle stood and opened double doors to reveal a smaller room with a bathtub, she began laying out some towels and pouring some oils into the tub; lavender and Bilbo’s nose was leaning to rose. “But first you should get cleaned up, I will ask for some warm water to be bought in. Also, here.” Arabelle handed over a neat little handkerchief and Bilbo clearly stunned began to stammer out a thank you, but Arabelle merely stopped him with the rise of her hand “Your mother fed and bathed me a whole month when I was recovering, this is the least I can do.”

“Miss, I have a report for you.” The small boy who had been in the street rolled on his heels, eyes darting to the plate of food in front of the hobbit.

“Go on help yourself you little goblin.” Arabelle laughed as the boy grabbed at a pastry “The room is yours Bilbo, I laid out a robe for you while the girls wash those clothes.” She nodded to the boy who followed her out the room whispering in her ear.

Arabelle walked down a narrow hall before turning into a small parlour, dark red chiffon drapes covered the windows slowing down the warm light of a setting sun. Two girls played on the harps, while three more danced around the room together, they swung their hips around with hooded eyes. Kili looked as though he was a child on the eve of Yuletide. Fili completely different as he looked up at the plain wood of the ceiling as though it was an intricately carved marble stone. Arabelle coughed a few times to draw the attention of the dwarves whom she now knew to be princes, The Prince’s of Erebor, who travelled with their Uncle Thorin Oakenshield who had a bounty on his head that could tempt an old man with a blunt fork. Arabelle was not sure what trouble Bilbo had gotten himself into with these dwarves, but she was going to get him out of it.

“Enjoying ourselves?” Arabelle smirked a little as she poured herself a glass of wine, men truly were the easiest creatures.

“Where is Master Baggins?” Fili looked outright concerned, Arabelle taken back slightly as she wondered if he had worried this whole time for the hobbit.

“Bilbo is cleaning up in my room, he will join us soon.” Arabelle smiled as the boys shared a look between them, though their faces seemed a mixture of surprise and shock she wondered if bathing was so uncommon to the dwarves. “I suspect the rest of your company will not be too far either.”

“You told Thorin we were here?” Fili’s jaw near hit the ground as Kili paled.

“I sent an invitation for dinner saying you were already here?” Arabelle questioned as though she might have done something wrong.

“He is going to murder you.” Kili looked to Fili who’s face delved into his palms “He is hardly going to think this was my idea.” Fili shot back “Jargh. You been the one mouth open and drooling.” The two brothers descending into a battle of Khuzdul as Arabelle sipped her drink wondering if all siblings were like this and if so, she was glad to have been an only child.

“Fili! Kili!” A booming voice shot through the house, Arabelle watched as both boys seemed to try and sink into the cushions below them “I’m going to go answer that.”

Arabelle walked rather fast to the front of the house, an entire company of dwarves and a wizard pushed into a small waiting area but that was not what stood out. It was rather the dwarf who stood at the front of the group, his hand wrapped around the collar of the small boy who had been her spy and messenger. “My nephews what have you done with them?” Pure venom dripped from him but Arabelle did not need long to react.

“Let the boy go. Or I remove your balls.” Arabelle spoke plainly for her blade which pushed against Thorin’s trousers was sharp enough. Arabelle was aware the entire company now had weapons drawn but her eyes did not leave Thorin’s as they entered a battle of wills and perhaps they would have been stuck in such a state till the end of days. However, Fili and Kili had heard the commotion and nervously emerged from the parlour, Thorin releasing his grip the boy fell to the floor as Arabelle retracted her blade to break his fall.

“You right?” She spoke quietly to him and he nodded “Go up stairs to your mother and stay there.” Arabelle shooed the boy who nervously looked around but as she pushed him further he stumbled onto his feet scattering up the stairs. Thorin had crossed the room to embrace the two young dwarves who were clearly shocked, Arabelle smiled a little at the sweet worry of an uncle though her smile was taken away as a balding dwarf held a blade to her throat.

“Be careful master dwarf who you threaten.” She warned as she stared him down without an ounce of fear.

“You take my nephews hostage. You threaten my kin!” A very angry Thorin stalked towards her.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” Bilbo jumped between them, two outstretched hands placed firmly on Thorin’s chest and while he hadn’t the strength to do so somehow the dwarf had come to a halt. Bilbo blinking a few times, perhaps even shocking himself or perhaps from the water that still dripped from his hair. He huffed out in annoyance, fixing up the robe he had thrown on rather fast “Now she didn’t kidnap them, in fact I don’t think either of them objected much at all at being brought in here.” Bilbo and Thorin looked back at two, very, sheepish dwarves. “There was never any threat, at least I don’t believe there was?” Bilbo looked to Arabelle who nodded and Thorin was clearly recalculating the events, his eyes staring daggers back at Fili and Kili who were both seemingly preoccupied with looking everywhere else.

“Good. Now that is sorted, I will give you to the count of three to remove your blade before I take it and put is somewhere the sun does not shine.” Arabelle shot a look to the dwarf behind her, who at Thorin’s nod grumbled “Burushruka igbulul e.” before withdrawing his axe Arabelle sneering at whatever final words he had just spat at her.  

“I’d invite the company of Thorin Oakenshield to dine at my table.” Arabelle said as she looked to the dwarf who was clearly sizing up the woman who would know his name and summon them all here. He seemed unsure, looking briefly at Bilbo who was smiling “It smells delicious!” Bilbo noted and Thorin finally gave his nod of approval.

“I hope you prepared enough.” Thorin said as Arabelle’s smile spread across her face and she clapped two hand together “Entertaining is kind of our thing here.” She said as a flurry of women entered the room, wine glasses in hand they entice the dwarves into the main area which had been set up for a feast; they might as well have been farmers herding sheep.

Thorin was gifted the head of the table, ensuring Fili and Kili sat beside him while Arabelle took the other end, Bilbo on one side and an empty seat to the other; none of the dwarves wishing to align themselves with the stranger. While most of the dwarves talked in Khuzdul to each other in hushed conversation Bilbo and Arabelle conversed in the common tongue.

“I do like these chairs, rather comfy.” Bilbo noted the plush cushion which had seated him up to be the right height for the table.

“Yes, it is a lovely house miss.” A young dwarf who sat beside Bilbo added, the wine from the evening loosening his tongue rather quickly. “I’m Ori by the way.”

“The name is Arabelle if it pleases and I thank you.” Arabelle looked up at the multiple colours of fine silk that draped the walls, trailing up to meet at the centre beam that hung from above them. In a place as dreary as Bree it was an escape, not just for them men who visited but for the women who called it home.

“Do not be fooled lad this is a whore house you need keep your wits about you.” While the older dwarf spoke in Khuzdul he outed himself as he needed use the common word of whore house and Arabelle’s eyes sparked.

“These whores serve your meal and pour your wine master dwarf.” Arabelle was not a tall lady, in fact she was rather short for mankind, but she grew with each word spoken “Now I suggest you apologise.”

“Forgive my word M’Lady, I meant no offence.” He bowed his head to her.

“She meant to us.” Jessalee cooed in the dwarves ear as he easily began fumbling words as she poured his wine, her chest much closer to his face.

“Please forgive my brother miss.” The dwarf across from them put his hands together.

“Well how can a girl stay mad at those eyes.” Jessalee winked across the table, as all the girls seemed to approach, music began to play and suddenly everyone was talking a common language.

“Might I pour you a drink Oakenshield?” Arabelle had waited to steal Kili’s chair as he was distracted by a dwarf, she believed his name was Bofur, who was dancing on a stage made for women.

“Fili go watch your brother, if he makes a move for that stage, you are to stop him.” Thorin shared a long look with his nephew who looked between the two his hesitation clear, but Thorin did not repeat himself.

“Your company is reckless and loud.” Arabelle noted as they looked to the crowd of men who swung from swings and danced on platforms. “I like them.” She smiled as she poured them both a drink.

“I would thank you for this meal but-”

“There is always a but-” Arabelle teased as they both drank, Thorin sitting back in his chair, his drink clutched in one hand, his silent brooding was enough for Arabelle to continue “Your company entered Bree last night and in the matter of less than a day I knew who you were and more importantly I know there is a price on your head.” Thorin seemed to tense a little “I do not care and as far as I am aware no one else has found this out but I suggest you lay low here and leave first thing tomorrow.”

“Why?” Thorin leaned in close now, he wished to look her in the eyes and though he wouldn’t admit it he was impress when she didn’t cower “Why help us?”

“Because you will release Bilbo from whatever is binding him to you. I do not care what is owed, you will leave him here with me or I will see to it that every bounty hunter and their mother knows you are here.” Arabelle held his gaze, and she was impressed by the fact he seemed to harden at the thought of letting Bilbo go, she wondered exactly how much debt Bilbo must owe.

“Um no.” Bilbo chimed between them, pulling himself up to the seat Fili had occupied.

“Bilbo you need not worry, Thorin will be a man of reason and release you from your debts.” Arabelle said but her certainty wavered as Thorin looked as though he was smiling, well rather smirking.

“I’m not in his debt.” Bilbo stated plainly, almost abruptly and Arabelle began to wonder if the wine had gotten to his head “I signed a contract of employment.”

“Bilbo you don’t know what you are getting yourself into.” Arabelle responded.

“I know exactly what I have gotten myself into. I want to go on this adventure.” Bilbo argued back and while Thorin wanted to speak up at the notion his quest to reclaim his homeland was a little more than an adventure he sat back to see where this would end. “There are other adventures Bilbo. Ones that don’t have you travelling with a group of dwarves with death sentences.” Arabelle’s voice began to get short.

“Fear is only your head trying to stop your heart.” Bilbo spoke words which had belonged to his mother, their effect on Arabelle clear “Belle, I am doing this.”

“Then I am joining you.” Arabelle fell back in defeat.

“Our company is full.” Thorin finally spoke “We will take care of Master Baggins.”

“Full disrespect intended but I don’t know you. I don’t know what this stupid quest is about. And I will not be entrusting the safety of one of my few remaining friends into a company of dwarves. I am coming, or I will stop you myself.” Arabelle watched as Thorin’s hand seemed to linger on his blade.

“We should let the Lady join us; another warrior would do us good.” Gandalf appeared from the shadows.

“Gandalf you know this woman?” Thorin looked to the wizard who joined them, his pipe smoke billowing from his nostrils. “I do not, but she bears the mark of the Rangers.” He noted and Arabelle looked to her wrist, her sleeve had ridden up enough that her leather cuff, with a pointed clasp attached to it was visible.

“A Ranger?” Thorin looked at the woman again, he had judged her as semi-capable with the weapon she bore but only now saw the other skills she might have, especially when it came to tracking and travelling the land. “Not anymore.” She quipped pulling down her sleeve “But I can fend for myself if that is what you are wondering.” Thorin closed his eyes, clearly weighing up his options and when he realised there was only one option left to pick, he sighed heavily.

“We leave at first light.”

Chapter Three

[katiecross]

So. I just remembered I wrote this and then promptly ADHD forgot about it because I didn’t know how to continue the story…but reading it again I kinda like how it ends 😅

I wrote this probably 4-5 months ago, I’ve never shared anything I’ve written before sooo be kind please? 😳

—————

Author’s Notes: So I’m rewatching TVP, but I’m stuck in bed dizzy af due to my citalopram detox and can’t even watch TV. I love smutty lemon fanfics so I thought I would try my hand at one, tbh I probably won’t even post it haha

Summary: I guess I should decide who’s in this, Damon obvs...but Reader or Elena 🤔 Actually POV is Elena, fixes that! My inspiration is Just Friends by Virginia To Vegas, and I think it would fit in well with TVD S1E11. The first half or so of the story is TVD S1E11 with some flare, after that it’s all me!

Word Count: I would add this, but I’m on my phone and it’s not letting me select the whole shebang. 💔

Warnings: I do not own TVD or the characters. I also don’t own the Virginia To Vegas song 🤪 Also, not my gif 😅

Disclaimer: Sexual tension, smut, you know...the good stuff!

—————————————————————

The Vampire Diaries: Bloodlines, Season 1, Episode 11

(**Dialog from the episode is in italics**)

—————————————————————

Damon pulls off the road and puts his charger in park. “Where are we? You brought me to a bar? It’s 10 am Damon...” He climbs out the drivers door.

I climb out as well, but can’t help but argue “I’m not old enough. They’re not going to let me in...”.

“Sure they will.” He smirks, closing his door and nodding his head towards the bar. I close mine and roll my eyes, he’s probably going to compel them. I sigh as he disappears inside, what does he have planned...

I take a few quick steps to catch up, as my eyes adjust to the dim indoor lighting I see Damon is almost at the bar and the bar tender is hopping over it. She saunters over to him. “My honey pie.” She says before planting a kiss on him. Um...Who is this woman?! She’s taller than Damon!

~~~

“Listen up, everybody.” Bree called raising up a bottle of tequila “Here’s to the man that broke my heart, crushed my soul, destroyed my life, and ruined any and all chances of happiness.” She placed freshly filled shot glasses in front of us. “Drink up!” Bree smiled as Damon drank his, before she threw her’s down the hatch.

Damon grabbed the one in front of me and drank it before I could even process what was happening. He waggles his eyebrows at me with a smirk, I can’t help but smile.

“So,” Bree asks, “How’d he rope you in?” Damon rested his head in his hand, seemingly interested in your answer.

“I’m not roped in.” I reply, “Actually I am...” wait, that’s not right... “I was?” Is that right either? “Dating his—“

Bree interrupted, saving me from my awkward struggle. “Oh honey, if you’re not roped, you’re whipped.” She smiled. “Either way, just enjoy the ride!”

“Uh, okay.” How does one reply to that?! “So how did you two meet?”

Bree chuckled “College.”

I look at Damon, surprise all over my face. “You went to college?” I laugh.

Damon replies “I’ve been ON a college campus, yes.” His eyebrows pop up for a second before taking another shot of tequila.

“About 20 years ago,” Bree continued “when I was a sweet young freshman I met this beautiful man and I fell in love.” Damon? Dating? In love? I feel a smile creep across my face. “And then he told me about his little secret, made me love him even more. Cause see I had a little secret of my own that I was dying to share with somebody.” Bree paused.

Damon beat her to the punch as he leaned over and whispered to me “She’s a witch.”

“You changed my world.” Bree reminisced.

“I rocked your world.” Damon said with a cocky tone.

Bree laughed, turning to me “He is good in the sack, isn’t he?” She winked. I could feel my ears and cheeks turning red, as heat pooled there. Bree didn’t seem to notice. “But mostly, he’s just a walk-away Joe.” She downed another shot before turning and walking away herself. She firmly placed her shot class on the counter. “So.” Turning back to Damon. “What DO you want?”

———

I stop pacing and hung up my phone as I lean against Damon’s car. I hate lying to Jenna, but I have to keep her safe from all of this stuff. My phone rings again, keeping me from dwelling on my mess of a life for too long. I look at the caller-id. Ugh. It’s Stefan. So much for Damon getting me away from it all.

I huff, the one who is supposed to be distracting me from MY life is inside talking to his ex. Well, I might as well answer this time, I’ve been ignoring his calls for the last day.

“Elena? Is that you?”

“I’m here.” I can’t help but purse my lips, I wonder what his explication will be.

“Where are you?”

“You LIED.” The accusation came out way harsher than I thought it would. How could he. I can feel the anger boiling up.

“Not until I explain, please.” He begged.

“So, you didn’t lie?”

“Just tell me where you are so I can come get you.”

“I look just like her. Is that why you want to be with me? It’s so wrong Stefan.”

“Please, let me come get you and explain.”

“No Stefan. We’re over, just leave me alone, I can’t do this. You just want Katherine.”

“Listen” I end the call before he can continue, why did I answer it in the first place?

My phone rings again, almost immediately. Stefan. I hit ignore and struggle with the urge to throw it. I need that distraction I was promised. I turn around swiftly and bump right into Damon. My stomach drops, how long has he been standing there?

“Hey, you okay?”

“Don’t pretend to care.” I brood. “I know you’re gloating inside.” I say it, knowing it’s not true. Concern clearly in his eyes.

“Ouch.” He put a hand on his heart, “And here I thought we’d become friends.” He offered his other hand to me. “Come on, let’s go forget.” I hesitate but place my hand in his. Damon turns on his heel, resting our hands on his shoulder as he leads me back into the Bree’s Bar.

———

“Let’s just say that I am descended from Katherine. Does that make me part Vampire?” I nibble on a fry from the plate we’re sharing.

Damon shakes his head, he’s sitting beside me at the bar and is so close I can almost feel the motion. “Vampires can’t procreate. But we love to try.” He smiles coyly at me. I can feel a blush creeping up my cheeks again, my heart pounds.

Clearly Damon can hear it, he chuckles. Why does he love to tease me like this? He poked my nose with a fry. “No. If you were related that would mean Katherine has a child before she was turned.”

“Did Stefan think that he could use me to replace her?” I could feel the anger creeping up again. How could he have done this, he had to have known all of this pain he’d cause me. The chef dropped off our burgers.

“Kind of creepy if you ask me.” Damon declared as I angrily removed the pickles from my burger. “Come on, what? You don’t like pickles? What’s wrong with you?” He scooped up the pickles off the edge of my plate, adding them to his burger.

His random display of humanity caught me off guard and I laughed. “How can you even eat, if technically...” I leaned in and dropped my voice to a whisper “you’re supposed to be...?”

Damon looked around dramatically sarcastic, and leaned in before whispering “Dead?” His eyes shifting back and forth scanning faces. “It’s not such a bad word. As long as I keep a healthy diet of blood in my system my body functions pretty normally.” He chomped another fry with a big smile, getting another chuckle from me.

His expression turned mischievous “We enjoy eating a lot of things actually.” His eyes ever so slightly shifted downwards as his tongue flicked out a little, moistening his lip before running his teeth over his lower lip. I had to look away. His innuendo was not lost on me, my heart pounding. The desire racing though me pooling deep in my gut.

Damons crooked smile stretched across his face, but I barely even noticed. My mind wandered back to two nights ago with Stefan, before I left him and ran away, before Damon rescued me from that strange vampire. Stefan hadn’t even pushed past second base, I had wanted to go further but he had been nervous. Was it because I wasn’t Katherine? Maybe I wouldn’t live up to her memory in bed? Damon had returned to his burger, but he was watching me out of the corner of his eye. I wonder what emotions were playing across my face.

Bree brought a new beer over for Damon. “I’ll have one too” I declare.

Damon who was about to take a swig from his stops, eyeballing me. “Hmmm?” My eyes catch his, and the desire radiates again. This time his eyes burn back.

“Time out, remember? For five minutes. Well that five minutes is gonna need a beer.” I cross my arms, as if it could somehow hide my involuntary feelings from a being who could literally hear the racing of my heart.

“There you go.” Bree places it on the bar and continues on to other customers. I sigh and pick it up. Damon shrugs and clinks our bottles. We both take a drink.

“This nice act, is any of it real?” I ask as Damon sizes up his burger. He looks over at me, gives me a little up and down glance before mumbling Mm-hm as he took a big bite from his burger. I raise my eyebrows, unsure if I can trust him.

———

It was only 3 o’clock but Bree confiscated Damon’s keys. “You know I could just talk them from you right?” Damon asked, with a bit of a slur in his voice.

“You could, but you won’t cause you know I’m right.” He huffed. We maaaay have had a few more drinks with our lunch. I gave up trying to keep pace with Damon, so I was mostly just buzzed. I was drinking to try and ease the desire I’d been feeling, but honestly the booze has just amplified it. “Come on,” Bree said, helping me get Damon to his feet. “Your cab is here. Go have a nap and sleep this off.”

I slung Damon’s arm over my shoulder and supported him as we made our way to the cab. Bree held the door open as we poured into the back seat. “Take them to the place up the street to the hotel.” She instructed the driver.

“Bree, you know I’ll be fine in a few. My body just burns through this stuff.” Damon said, lifting his head from the window and leaning across me so he could she her face. He was so close, I looked up at the roof, and forced my breathing to be calm and steady.

“Yeah, but until then I don’t want you scaring off my afternoon crowed.” She said coyly.

Damon whispered to Bree, possibly thinking I wouldn’t be able to hear him? Even though his head was in my lap. “Don’t do this, I can’t trust myself. She doesn’t really want this, we’re just friends.”

Bree crouched down and whispered back to him “Are you sure?”. Righting herself she winked at me “Good luck.” Bree laughed as she closed the cab door and patted the roof twice.

Damon reached for the door handle but couldn’t find it. I tried to focus my brain, but all I wanted to do was pet his hair. Touch his face. Kiss his...NO! This is Damon, my friend. Just my friend. I tried to breathe. He manages to sit up, his eyes searching mine, I can hear my heart pounding in my ears.

“Elena.” He whispers. My name on his lips sends vibrations of desire radiating through me. His breathing is heavy, laboured. “Your body is telling me things, things I’ve been trying to ignore all afternoon.” He moved in closer, holding my face in his hand my skin tingling with the contact. “I can’t ignore it anymore, it’s screaming at me. I need you to tell me that your body is lying. I know this can’t be what you really want, but all the signs are there.” He’s so close now that I can feel the breath of his words on my skin. “Am I mistaken?”

I can’t even bring myself to speak, my heart feels like it’s coming out of my chest, I can feel it in the back of my throat. I lick my lips, and he lets out a low needy growl. “Come on Elena, I need to know.” I place my hands on his chest, I don’t know if I’m going to push him away or run my hands up around his neck and pull him in. He freezes at my touch, I don’t even think he’s breathing anymore. Before I can make up my mind the cab stops in front of a hotel. Oh god Bree.

Damon let his hands gently fall from my face so he could pay the driver, as he leans to pull the wallet out of his back pocked my eyes settle on the front of his jeans straining against his member that is now thrust in my direction. Everything in me wanted to reach out and touch it, if only I was so brave, but before I knew it Damon’s wallet had be released and behind was fully back on the seat, his coat and arm doing a decent job hiding his erection. Not that I was looking for it. I flushed, because who am I kidding…I was. I should have been braver, touched him, felt him firm and resilient in my hand.

My door opened, I hadn’t even realized Damon had gotten out of the car. He offered me his had and whispered urgently “You better hurry before I take you right here.” I felt my blood rush out of my limbs. Oh god. I need him. I took his had, he helped me from the cab before bring his other arm around and pressing me against him. My breath caught in my throat. His eyes caught mine. “I know we are ‘just friends’, but your body is telling me another story.” He paused as his erection pulsed against me. “I can’t ignore it anymore.” He leaned in, dark veins appearing around his his eyes, his lips just a breath away from mine. “I’m going to kiss you now Elena.” He whispered.

This time I didn’t hesitate, my arms came up between us in an instant, his eyes widened with surprise, but only for a moment as my hands tangled into his hair he growled and his lips came down on mine with such urgency my knees buckled. He held me up, firmly pressed against him. His teeth gripped my bottom lip producing a hungry moan I’d never heard before leave my body before. “Damon” I gasped, his tongue teasing me, “I need you” I whispered.

In a moment, his mouth was gone, before I could protest and demand his lips return he swept my legs out from under me. I shrieked with delight, making Damon laugh as he walked towards the motel. “I don’t think you would enjoy me ripping your clothes off in the middle of the street.” He murmured in my ear.

The desired radiated through me. “At this point, you might be surprised.” I whispered back. He groaned and quickened his pace.

In the lobby he gently let my feet fall to the floor. “Think you can stand?” His lips tickling my neck with his words. My chest heaved against him, and he nibbled my ear.

“Not if you keep doing that.” I sighed, making him chuckle. He turned to head to the desk, but I put my hand on his chest. He glanced back. “I didn’t say stop.”

Damons eye’s flashed and he grinned mischievously. “I could keep doing that, or you could have something better in a moment.” He lifted my palm off his chest and kissed it, sending tingles down my arm. All I could do was chew on my lip and nod. Damon continued to the desk where the hotel clerk was pretending not to notice, the heat between us.

Before I could chicken out I quietly walked up behind Damon, I could see his body become more rigid as I approached. The clerk was busy talking with Damon as she clicked through the menus on her computer. Of course Damon could hear me coming, but it was fun stalking this vampire. I ran my hands along his shoulders and down his back, slipping under his leather jacket and teasing along the hem of his perfectly fitting jeans. I could tell he was having trouble concentrating on his conversation with the clerk. He kept looking down, running his hand through his hair, saying um…The power I have with my hands have is completely intoxicating. Every moment feeling bolder. Hidden behind the counter I wrap my arms around him, and slide a couple fingers of my hand under the hem of his jeans, he stutters when spelling his last name out for the clerk. I slip in the rest of my fingers, he looks down at my hand. He’s not wearing any underwear, I tickle his pubic hair, his breath catches and stops. He’s leaning heavily onto his elbows on the counter now. There’s no stopping me, emboldened by his response to my touch. My thumb followed my fingers all the way into his jeans, until they find his member stuck pointing down in his tight jeans. I close my hand around him.

Damon gasped dropping his head into his hands. The clerk looked up at him alarmed. Cautiously I help adjust his member into an upright position, but of course not being able to stop there I ran my fingers gently along his length before grabbing him and giving him a couple firm strokes. “Oh fuck!” Damon exclaims under his breath, hands balling into fists, pushing into his eye sockets.

“Are you okay?” The clerk asked hesitantly. She can’t see me behind his bulk, I stifled a giggle, he must look like a crazy person. I decided my hands should continue to wander, and gently cupped his balls.

“Yes,” Damon managed to get out. He opened his hands and dragged them down his face bringing them together like in prayer, still resting on them. “Key.” He gasped as my hand stroked his length again. She handed him the key, blushing at the desire all over his face. “Thank. You.” He sputtered out. I slowly removed my hand from his jeans, allowing him to turn around.

He eyed my devilish grin. “You look awfully proud of yourself.” I twirled and made my way to the elevator and pushed the call button. I could feel him stop close behind me, then his breath on my skin sent visible shivers through my body as he leaned in close and growled “You’ll pay.” Quietly into my ear.

The elevator doors opened and I hopped inside. Damon followed slowly and leaned against the wall across from the array of buttons, lost in thought. “What floor” I asked eagerly when he didn’t push the button himself.

He slowly looked at me, “Sorry,” he smirked “I got distracted plotting my revenge. Top floor.” I stepped towards the panel and hit the number four button. the mirror to my left revealed a smile spreading across my cheeks, I wonder what he has in store for me. The doors were closing when I heard him leave the wall. It only took a second for his left hand to reach around me and take control of my chin, angling my head to the right revealing my neck, as his left hand pulled my hair out of the way before gently sliding down my waist and pulling my pelvis against his erection. Brief panic flooded my veins, there is only one reason a vampire would grab you this way...His lips gently kissed just under my ear, I gasped, or maybe there is another reason...

“Are you ready for my revenge?” His breath tickled my skin officially banning the fear from my system, replacing it with raw need. He took my earlobe between his lips and I couldn’t help but moan.

“What are you going to do to me?” I managed to whisper. Damon released my chin to pull my sweater off my shoulder leaving it bare before settling on my waist just under my breast. He gently let his lips kissed the length of my neck, as far down my shoulder as was bare, licking back along it to take my earlobe in his mouth again.

“I’m going to make you beg for me.” He cooed. Used his right hand he held my pelvis in place as he rubbed himself against me.

Bing. Floor number two.

“This is a much shorter elevator ride than I would prefer, but I’ll have to make due.” Before I could fully comprehend he turned me to face the mirrored wall, I braced against it with my hands, while his left hand swiftly pulled up my shirt, bra and all, revealing my breasts, one of which was now cupped in his hand. He growled hungrily, forcing his right hand down the front of my skinny jeans and into my underwear. My whole body bucked against him, but his strong arms kept me in place.

“My sweet Elena, we’re not even at the torture yet. You’re making this far too easy.” A finger circled my clit, slowly, gently, tantalizingly. I could see his red eyes with the black veins in the mirror, this was torturing him just as much. I couldn’t help but moan. His swirls intensified as his other hand played with my nipple, my breathing was becoming ragged, how was I so close already?!

Bing. Floor number three.

His finger left my clit to run along my swollen slit, my eyes roll back and my legs were shaking. I had to rest my head against him. Damon growled again “Elena, you’re soaked. Is this all for me?”

“Yes” I breathed. How was he having this effect on me? I’ve been to third base before, with Matt and almost Stefan, but never like this. Damon slipped in a finger, just a little causing me thrust against him wanting more. “Damon, please.”

“What do you need Elena?” He purrs, teasing my opening just a little more, adding another finger and sliding them in another knuckle deeper. His thumb begins to tease my clit.

When I don’t answer immediately he begins to slowly pull out his fingers, “I need you Damon.” I answer obediently as my pelvis tries to follow his retreating fingers. “Please.” His fingers keep coming out. “Damon I need you,” I almost yell it “I need you inside me.” Damon is still circling my slit with his fingers. “Please, please!” I beg. He thrusts his fingers in to the end. I scream with pleasure, but then his touch is gone. I manage to lift my head and look into the mirror. He’s leaning casually against the opposite wall licking my juices off his fingers, eyes still red with black veins.

Bing. Floor number four.

The doors open. “Shall we?” He asks motioning to the hallway. My brain is still whirling from his touch, but I manage to stagger out the door and Damon follows sly half smile on his face. “Room 414” he offers. I find a plaque pointing me where I need to go, once I can comprehend what it’s telling me I head off down the hallway.

Damon grabs my arm pulling me back until I’m against him, his mouth is on mine in a heartbeat. I throw my arms around his neck and his hands grab my ass lifting me as if I was nothing more than a feather. My legs grip around his waist as he crashes us into a wall, kissing me fiercely, his mouth attacking mine with an intense hunger. Damon pauses for a moment, glancing at the door beside us while one hand resting holding my rear and the other on my still exposed breast, wait...still exposed? I try and right my shirt. Damon grumbles with annoyance, I can’t decide if it’s at my attempts to cover up or the number on the door. He pulls me off the wall, taking my hand off my shirt and placing my arm back around his neck.

His mouth is on mine again and I grind up against him, as he walks up the hallway, blue eyes scanning the door numbers. Finally he pushes me against the wall next to a door, fumbling in his pockets for the keycard. “Ah fuck” he growls against my lips. Taking both hands off me to search all his pockets. “AH HA!” He exclaims, revealing the white plastic card. He throws the door open.

[trashy-goblin]

type: one-shot

title: The Four Joys of a Bee        02. The Joy of Two - Diplomacy

fandom: Lord of the Rings

summary: Once disagreement breaks between elf and dwarf at the doors of the Mines of Moria, Teremir reminds them of a song both their cultures sing with fondness, which only reminds Aragorn how much he admires her queenly qualities.

characters: teremir (oc); aragorn; boromir; legolas; gimli; frodo; sam; merry; pippin; gandalf;

pairings: aragorn/teremir;

masterlist

a/n: i admit this one is not as good, but that is because I hadn’t writen for this series for months, it was a bit hard to come back to the same rythm and quality.

wordcount: 2174

.

Although there was no more snow that could make their bodies cold and the floor slippery, fatigue still lingered on the fellowship, and even Aragorn was glad when Gandalf came to a halt in front of the great walls of the Mines. While Gandalf faced the elegant doors of Moria, trying every possible phrase, word, and spell he knew, the others rested their cold aching feet, and Aragorn and Sam took all the baggage from Bill, the pony.

Sam uttered a soft ‘Bye-bye, Bill’, which did not go unnoticed by neither Aragorn nor Teremir. Although the ranger knew it was not meant for him, his heart beat softer when the lady assured the hobbit that the pony would reach Bree safely with a sympathetic smile.

Yet it took less than a glance for Aragorn to know she wasn't at peace, and a little more to understand why her gaze moved from Sam only to become fixed on the horizon. She only didn’t tap the place beside her for the hobbit to sit because Gimli and Legolas already occupied both sides, and their discussion would not provide any kind of tranquillity.

“It may seem distant now,” the dwarf spoke with a note of hope overlapping a small one of embarrassment, “but I’m sure we will be welcomed, and soon we’ll be feasting.”

“I’m sorry I cannot have the same hope,” said the elf, titling his head as he glanced past Teremir, at Gimli, “for I am sitting by the doors of Moria still waiting for all the praise you give to these Mines to meet reality.”

The short sigh that left Teremir went almost unheard as Gimli grumbled at Legolas’ words, yet Aragorn heard it, and Boromir heard it too. Though Aragorn noticed the slight trembling of Teremir’s hands before Boromir did, the ranger caught the soldier’s glance on him before he started to walk in his sister’s direction, and so he decided to stay put moving his eyes to the rocky floor.

“And it will meet!” Gimli added a new note of to his voice, “You will be surprised at how you’ll be received, despite your nature, and regret your initial thoughts!”

“You’re mistaken, dwarf” Legolas elegantly shifted in his place and looked ahead, with a sarcastic smile meant for Gimli “What I feel is disappointment, yet not surprise.”

Aragorn observed Boromir approach Teremir from behind. The man had a soft expression as he went to remove his cloak to put over her shoulders, but the dunedain already knew she would kindly refuse, for her trembling was not from cold but irritation.

It was then that both elf and dwarf seemed to suddenly realise there was a person between the two who borne their argument.

“I apologize, my lady Teremir,” Gimli nodded, a little more self-conscious, yet hope remained, “once we enter, we shall have all the comforts...”

Teremir decided to preserve her majestic posture and nod as an answer, avoiding looking at the dwarf as she looked up, and soon her eyes met Aragorn's, who had been observing her.

The dunedain gazed at her expression. Though Teremir’s voice was a perfect vessel for her heart and mind, Aragorn had learned it was her eyes that spoke her hidden thoughts and feelings better; And so, like when Teremir’s expression grew in horror while she observed her brother holding the One Ring, the dunedain could see what she felt.

He could swear Teremir, perhaps unconsciously, asked for rest and some encouragement. His heart meant to offer her comfort with his own expression, but the sound of stones being thrown to the water stole both their attention.

Aragorn glanced at Merry and Pippin, his mind thorn between the murky waters and Teremir's eyes. He grabbed Pippin's arm just before he threw another stone, warning him not to disturb the waters. Before he even looked back in Teremir's direction, Aragorn felt Boromir's glare.

The ranger merely glanced at the woman before looking away, and noticed she never seemed to be bothered by her brother's vigilant eyes like he was. Although the dunedain knew Teremir was old and bright enough to look after her own heart, he almost dared to wish she did worry about Boromir’s wary glance from time to time; for it made him feel vulnerable, that she would chuckle at his discretion.

But even so, he didn’t mind feeling vulnerable for her and only her. Much less if it made her smirk, even if it only lasted for a few seconds.

Gandalf stepped away from the doors, muttering to himself, and took his hat as he sat bedside Frodo. Merry and Pippin shared a look and avoided looking at Gimli, unlike Legolas, who gazed directly at him, making the other groan. Teremir inhaled deeply at the loud sound beside her, patience growing smaller, though Aragorn noticed the trembling had stopped.

“Gandalf will surely remember the opening words…” Gimli hoped.

“Should dwarves be less stubborn,…” Legolas muttered.

“Should elves be less unpleasant,-”

“Should you two be more quiet,…”

The sharpness of Teremir’s voice demanded attention.

“… and perhaps Gandalf would be able to remember the password.”

Aragorn looked between the elf and the dwarf and was impressed to see them both avoiding the woman’s eyes like a pair of misbehaved children. Yet, upon seeing the two had been called to reason, even if her eyes remained severe, it seemed to the dunedain that Teremir added a more amused note to her speech.

“Should you two bond over how much you hate each other’s cultures,” she glanced between Gimli and Legolas, “you would become the best of friends.”

Aragorn held his chuckle better than Boromir, but still had to look away once he saw how Legolas furrowed his brows and Gimli widened his eyes.

“I am sorry to disappoint you, my lady,” said Legolas, “but I’m afraid there’s very little to nothing we could ever bond over.”

Teremir rose her eyebrows ever so slightly, questioning if either them were aware of where they were. Nevertheless, a ghost of a smirk appeared on her lips. Aragorn glanced at her in curiosity, only to close his eyes in appreciation as Teremir started to sing softly.

The fellowship looked upon her with surprise, for it was a rather strange occasion to sing, yet none of them seemed to complain. Aragorn felt his heart buzz like a small bee, as if spring had truly returned with his joy, although he wasn’t the only one happy with Teremir’s voice. Legolas and Gimli also felt a wave of joy, - though it was different from the dunedain’s – one that mingled with saudade from their land, and had them both join the lady’s singing, much to their surprise.

Now welcome summer with thy sunne soft, Now welcome summer with thy sunne soft, That has this winter’s weather overshade, And driven away the longe nights black.

Both elf and dwarf stopped competing for once. Legolas’ fresh melody and Gimli’s warming tune had gradually adapted to better suit Teremir’s spring voice. Aragorn noticed the small curve on Teremir’s lips upon hearing the two contrasting voices sing so harmoniously but she did not look at neither of them even if they regarded her with surprise.

Yavanna Kenmentári, that art full high on loft, Thus singen smalle fowles for thy sake: Now welcome summer with thy sunne soft, That hast this winter’s weathers overshake.

Gimli tapped his foot at the rhythm of the song while Legolas waved his head, but Teremir rested in her natural majesty. Her smile only grew as she glanced at the dunedain, who casted her a complicit look, for he understood her play.

Well have they cause for to gladden oft, Well have they cause for to gladden oft, Since each of them recovered hath her make, Full blissful may they singen when they wake:

As the song ended, Aragorn found himself smiling at Teremir, and a soft sigh left his chest as a wave of appreciation came to him along with one of affection.

Now welcome summer with thy sunne soft, Now welcome summer with thy sunne soft, That hast this winter’s weather overshake, And driven away the longe nights black.

Although he didn’t know the song, the ranger admired how Teremir had used it to stop an argument between two rival people so smoothly. He wondered if her diplomatic manner was ever taught to her by Denethor, or if she picked it up from books about kings and queens of old, for it seemed so natural he couldn’t help but feel as if he looked upon one of those great queens.

“You say there’s very little to nothing you could bond over, Legolas, son of Thranduil” Teremir gave the elf an elegant knowing look before turning to the dwarf with the same expression, “yet Gimli, son Glóin, sings this song with the same fondness as you.”

Legolas avoided her eyes in embarrassment while Gimli huffed through his beard.

“There is no shame in being mistaken, my friends, much less in a matter such as this” she told them with a smile, “Now tell me, how come both dwarves and elves sing the same song, up in the North?”

Elf and dwarf glanced at each other sideways as if posing the same question between them. Teremir waited patiently for them to speak, though Aragorn knew she already knew the answer, otherwise she wouldn’t have sung. Legolas knew that too, if her knowing eyes were anything to tell, and so he sighed before he spoke.

“Regarding to dwarfish culture, I admit I do not know” he glanced at Gimli, “The Woodland elves sing it through springtime, to celebrate the end of a cycle and welcome the beginning of another.”

“The dwarves of Erebor sing it every spring” Gimli looked at the elf, “To celebrate the melting of snow, and the growing grass and plants on the Lonely Mountain.”

“The end of a cycle and the beginning of another, indeed” Teremir smiled at the two people beside her, and dared to add, “Should you two become friends, a cycle of mutual hatred would end, and another of friendship would begin.”

Teremir’s voice was intelligent as a prophet, yet warm as a mother – once again, the voice of a queen. It only made Aragorn’s chest grow with affection, for as he took in both her form and her words, he couldn’t help but imagine a new cycle for Gondor: one where Teremir would be queen of her people, and he would be king himself as well, bringing peace to the kingdom with kinder acts than the wielding of their swords.

Aragorn was brought back from his vision by Teremir’s own gaze upon him. Their eyes met for a moment and both lips curved in an understanding smile;

But their reverie didn’t last long, as Aragorn felt the weight of Boromir’s wary eyes on him from behind his sister. The ranger turned to look at the dark water, at first to avoid his glare, but as the sound of Boromir’s feet stepping the rocky floor got closer to him, he noticed a movement in the water.

The man behind him must have noticed it too for he stopped beside him without a word. They both kept their eyes on the water. Teremir noticed it as well and stood up to move closer to the hobbits, only taking her eyes from the water to glance at Frodo as he spoke.

“Friendship…” the hobbit muttered before standing up, “It’s a riddle. Speak ‘friend’ and enter” then he asked “What’s the elvish word for ‘friend’?”

“Mellon” Gandalf’s answer echoed.

At that word, the heavy doors of the Mines of Moria opened before Frodo and the wizard, who smiled in admiration and relief. Teremir ushered the other three hobbits to enter and called Boromir and Aragorn to the doors. The Captain of Gondor obeyed to his sister’s calling, but not without casting one last look at the ranger who followed him.

Aragorn did not fear Boromir nor his eyes, he gazed back at him with a neutral expression, ready and vulnerable to his judgement; Yet he was surprised to see the man’s features had softened, though the dunedain wouldn’t do more that slightly raise his eyebrows to show his thoughts.

Boromir stepped into the Mines, but Teremir waited for the ranger at the doors,

“How do you know that song?” Aragorn casually asked her as he joined her.

“King Brand, of Dale, came to Gondor once in springtime” Teremir answered him, “He sang it to me and my brothers, and told us the three kingdoms of Erebor, Woodland and Dale sang it to celebrate the end of winter and the approaching of summer.”

The woman felt her lips curve into the smallest of smiles which Aragorn found himself copying.

The second good joy of Aragorn was to witness Teremir’s diplomacy. It was a reflection of her intelligence as well as her patience, and he couldn’t help but love it for it made her kind yet fierce nature more visible.

[arwenlalaith]

Two Wrongs (Don’t Make a Right)

Ship: Alex Blake/Reader

Summary: Sequel to “The Sound of (No) Silence. Alex and Y/N are celebrating their first Mother’s Day together...unfortunately, nothing is going right. For @marshmallows2345 as part of my 500 follower celebration!

Word Count: 888

Your first Mother’s Day dawned before the sun.

You’d spent the last month and a half planning for the day and you wanted to be certain that absolutely everything was perfect.

Not for yourself, of course, but for your wife.  (Technically, it wasn’t her first Mother’s Day...but that made you no less determined to make it memorable. Perhaps, it made you more so.)

When you woke up, you made sure to turn off the baby monitor before making your way to the nursery.  Bridgette was laying awake in her crib, content to merely lay there and wait for attention, gumming her little fingers as she did so.

“Good morning, Bree,” you cooed, lifting her from the crib and holding her close to your chest.  “It’s a very special day!  Are you going to be on your best behaviour for Mommy?”  You smiled softly as she blew a raspberry in response.  “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

After feeding and changing the baby, you strapped her against your chest with the baby wrap and proceeded to prepare the day’s celebration.

___________

When Alex woke up two hours later, it was to a tiny hand patting her face. Cracking one eye open in search of the disturbance, her whole face lit up with a smile when she found Bridgette peering down at her, prodding her cheek with one pudgy finger.  “Good morning, Baby Girl!” she chirped, kissing the baby’s palm.

“Say Happy Mother’s Day,” you instructed the (non-verbal) child from your spot in the doorway.  Then, you crossed the room to kiss your wife, smiling against her lips.  “Morning,” you murmured.  “I have so many things planned for you today...”  You squeezed her hand gently, tracing your thumb along her wedding band.

Alex raised a brow.  “I thought we agreed we weren’t going to do anything big today...” she said, but her smile belied the fact that she was touched by the gesture.  “What exactly do you have planned?”

You shrugged, an innocent smile on your lips, though your eyes glinted with mischief.  “How about you get your beautiful behind out of bed and see?” you suggested.

You moved as if to leave, but before you could get very far, Alex tugged your hand, pulling you into her lap.  You squeaked in surprise, the sound turning into laughter as she pinned you to the bed and kissed you soundly.

“Let’s keep it G-rated,” you reminded, “Little eyes are watching...”

She just laughed, breath warm on the skin of your throat.

____________

Alex emerged from the bedroom, having changed out of her pyjamas, scooping Bridgette up off the floor where she was crawling around (no doubt in search of mischief to cause) and carrying her into the kitchen where you were busily preparing food.

“What are you up to?” she asked, head cocked to the side as she watched you.

You slipped the last of the prepared food into the picnic basket, then turned to fix her with a soft smile.  You approached, dropping a kiss on Bridgette’s forehead, then your wife’s lips.  “I thought we could go to the botanical gardens for a picnic,” you explained.   “I want to get some pictures of you and the jellybean and I think the flowers will be the perfect backdrop for my two beautiful ladies.”

“I hope you packed the umbrella...” Alex remarked.  At your confused expression, her gaze flickered over to the TV screen that was declaring the forecast to be nothing but rain for the next twelve hours.

Your face fell, devastated that the day you’d spent weeks planning was ruined.

Alex offered you an apologetic smile.  “I’m sorry, Y/N,” she whispered, reaching up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing along your skin tenderly.

You quickly recovered from the disappointment, though, plastering on a smile and declaring, “Well, I’m not giving up that easily.  We’ll just have to have a living room picnic.  We can watch that movie you keep saying we should...”

Before you could finish the sentence, though, a flash of lightening lit up the sky.  It was followed quickly by a clap of thunder, then the fizzle of the power going out.

Several moments of silence followed.

“Candle-light picnic?” Alex suggested.

________________

“She’s out like a light...” Alex murmured into the skin of your neck, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind.  “The day’s excitement must’ve worn her out.”

“Excitement?” you repeated dubiously.

She hummed against your skin, “Mm-hmm...  It was the perfect Mother’s Day.”  You opened your mouth as if to disagree, but she didn’t let you.  “I know you had all these big plans, but this really was perfect.  Just the three of us.  Together.  I couldn’t have asked for anything more.”

Sighing softly, you leaned back against her chest.  “Promise?”

Instead of replying, she let her hand creep along the bare skin of your thigh, pushing your sundress up higher and higher until her fingers found your core.  “Care to join me in the shower?” she husked.

You responded by turning in her arms and immediately working on the zipper of her jeans, tugging her in the direction of the en-suite bathroom as you went.

As you stripped out of your dress, Alex held her hand under the shower head, waiting for the water to turn warm.

A beat.

“Water heater’s busted...”

[pagingevilspawn]

Could you please write a fic like the continuation of you said you would grow old with me that their child is born and jo tells their child about alex ?

wishin’ you were sitting here, right next to me

okay, this is being posted right at midnight (lets pretend) , happy new year! i’ll fix it later lol.

this is like a part two to ‘you said you’d grow old with me’. so if you haven’t read that one already, you can read it here! 

Twelve year old Bree Karev sat on her bed in her room, confused, and even a little bit mad. Today marked yet another failed attempt to set her mom up on a date. Ever since she was eight, Bree had been trying to push guys toward her mom. It was never hard for her to convince men, one look at Jo and they’d be gone, but her mom politely declined. Every. Single Time.

Bree was a hopeless romantic. One that believed in happily ever afters and love at first sight. She knew that her mom was still in love with her dad, that she always would be, but it had been nearly thirteen years since his death. She just wanted her mom to be happy, and what better way to be happy than have someone to laugh with and smile until your cheeks hurt?

Never once had she seen her mom with a man that wasn’t a friend. No boyfriends, and as far as she knew, any potential one-night stands would’ve occurred when she was out of the house, so who knows if she even had any of those.

The girl is broken from her thoughts when she feels a soft knock on her door, looking up to see her mom in her doorway, a small smile on her face. “Get ready for bed, you have school tomorrow.” Jo says, about to turn around when her daughter’s voice stops her.

“Wait,” she says, looking at her mom with implying eyes. “Why do you always say no?” she asks.

Jo looks at her daughter, her small smile dropping from her face. Truthfully, she had fully forgotten about her daughter’s little set up from a few hours before, more focused on spending time with Bree than her attempts to meddle with her love life.

“I know you still love him, I do too. But, it’s been so long.” Bree says, not noticing how Jo’s eyes grow sad, too focused on picking at the skin near her fingernails.

Jo sighs, making her way over to her daughter’s bed and sitting down next to her, ruffling the grey and white floral comforter underneath them, which matched the rest of the bedroom’s decor.

“Why don’t you want to move on?” the girl asks.

Jo lets out a loud sigh. It was time Bree learned their story. Their crazy, messed up, love story that was like something out of a soap opera. She’d been putting it off for years, waiting until Bree was older, more mature. She would’ve preferably waited until she was sixteen, but she knew her (not-so-little) little girl was getting frustrated. Jo knew that Bree’s intentions were pure every time she tried to set her up. It wasn;t because she felt she didn’t have a father figure, it was something she wanted to do just for her mom.

The mom purses her lips, prepared to let the words flow out of her mouth. Right now, she wouldn’t let her brain filter through what she was going to say. She wasn’t going to hold back. Bree deserved that.

“Your dad taught me what love was- no, showed me what love was, real love.” she feels Bree’s eyes on her. Telling her daughter about her past was something that was terrifying her to her core. It was something she would’ve liked to keep secret, but knew that that couldn’t be the case.  

Jo lets out a shaky breath. “I was twenty-two when I met Paul Stadler.” she starts, not needing to look over to know that her daughter’s eyes were wide. Her mom wasn’t one to talk about ex’s. Granted, Jo didn’t really have many.

“He was charming, funny, kind,” Jo huffs, taking her daughter’s hand in hers and rubbing her thumb against the back of it. It didn’t matter how many years passed, Paul and memories of what had been would always haunt her. While she was pregnant with Bree, her nightmares had started back up again. It wasn’t until a while later when she realized the only reason she stopped having them for all those years was because she had Alex holding her while she slept, when she felt completely safe. They had dialed down over the years, but occasionally she would wake up in cold sweats, her dreams feeling too close to reality.

“I thought he was Prince Charming, coming in and sweeping Cinderella off her feet,” she says honestly, feeling sorry for the girl she used to be. She stopped cursing herself for those years a long time ago. It wasn’t her fault what happened to her. It took years of therapy, but she knew that now. She was a survivor, not a victim. She saw what everyone else did in Paul, what he wanted to show.

“He was every girl’s dream. He seemed perfect. And that first year, he was.” She looks over at her daughter, her eyes glossed over. “So, when he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him-” Jo swallows roughly, squeezing Bree’s hand, “I said yes.”  

The girl was shocked to say the least. Her mom had been married previously? Why had she never heard that before? Her mom was fairly open about her life, so why hadn’t she heard about her mom’s first husband?  

Jo sighs, “After our wedding, Paul… changed,” she settles on, feeling Bree’s curious eyes on her. She really wished they were having this conversation when she was older. Bree was smart, mature, more so than other kids her age, but Jo still wanted to protect her from the world.  

How was she supposed to tell her that monsters didn't live under the bed, but rather slept beside you every night?

“He was angrier, the Paul I had gotten to know fading away quicker than I could even realize it.” she squeezes Bree’s hand again, giving her the strength she needed. “About two months after we got married, everything shifted.” Jo knew that she wouldn't go into detail. No matter how strong her little girl was, no daughter needed to hear about the abuse their mother suffered.  

Bree sat frozen on her bed, not knowing what to say.

“For three years, I was in a relationship that made me loose who I was. I was unrecognizable, he controlled everything. To say i was a shell of my former self is an understatement. I spent years trying to tell myself that he would go back to the man I fell in love with if I did what he wanted, if I did everything perfectly. It took me three years to figure out the man I fell in love with didn’t exist, it was all just a facade.

“After graduation I ran. I stole some money from him, ran away, and changed my name to Jo Wilson.”

Bree looks up to her mom, her palm held tightly in the woman's, “Jo’s not your real name?” she asks.

Jo shakes her head. “No, Jo is my real name. It’s just not the one I was born with. ‘Jo’ was always inside of me, the person I always was, she just never had the chance to come out.” she answers honestly.

“When I came to Seattle I had one goal, and that was to be the best surgeon I could be. I thought that maybe I'd date a few guys here and there, but nothing too serious. That obviously didn’t end up being the case.” she lets out a soft chuckle, letting the memories of her intern year flood back to her. God, back then she was so scared, so frightened so downright terrified. It was hard to believe that it was twenty years ago she first laid eyes on the man who became the love of her life. How time flies. She still remembers being that wide-eyed intern that thought Meredith was Medusa, who thought that Alex was the world’s largest asshole to walk the face of the earth.

It was crazy; how one person could have such a large impact on your life, to have been a part of the process of who you are today.

She decided that she needed to hurry the story along and not get too lost in the past. “When I first met your dad I hated him.” she says bluntly, making Bree’s eyes widen like saucers. Of all the things she was expecting to hear her mom say about her dad, finding out that she hated him at the beginning of it all was not one of them.  

Jo chuckles, “It’s true. He was a huge asshole who’s already slept with all of my friends and flirted with any female that had two legs.” she smiles at the flashback pouring in through her head.

“Do you mind?”

“Sorry”

“Why are you following me?”

“I’m your intern for the day.”

“Hello intern, you have a name?”

“Jo Wilson.”

“Nice. I like chicks with boy’s names.”

“I have absolutely no interest in you since you’ve already slept with every single one of my friends”

How ironic, she thinks.

Jo tucks a strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear, looking into the eyes that were a mirror image of her own. Bree’s lips quirk up into a crooked grin, a sight that melted Jo’s heart every time. Their daughter had inherited Jo’s favorite feature about Alex.

“It only took getting drunk at a wedding, sharing about our crappy childhoods, and fake crying our way into a hotel room for us to become best friends overnight.” she lets a smile paint over her lips. “After that day we were inseparable. I would crash at his place most days of the week, passing out on the couch I bought for him after drinking beer, ordering take-out, and watching action movies together, oblivious to my feelings for him.”

Jo internally laughs at herself, trying to decide if she could go back in time whether she would’ve waited to get together with him or not. If she didn’t wait, she would’ve had longer with him, but something she always held so close to her was that they fell in love with each other even though they’d never kissed. She always thought it was just a small example of how strong their love for each other was.

“I dated a guy, the guy wasn’t a good guy. I finally realized I was in love with your dad when a tree came crashing through his living room.” she chuckles, Bree doing the same. Leave it up to her mom to have a life changing realization during the middle of a disaster

“This thought was weird, foreign to me. I’d never kissed him before, never really hugged him, so being in love with him was terrifying. But when he told me that he loved me?” Jo smiles, her eyes flutter shut as their conversation in the supply closet plays out before her.

“This place looks so different in the dark.”

“Yeah... You think the tree ruined my couch?”

“I think it ruined your entire living room.”

“Listen, I have to tell you something.”

“No, you don’t.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

“I think I do and you shouldn’t.”

“Jo-”

“I’ll mess it up, Alex. I mess everything good in my life up, and… we work as friends really well, and-and I don’t want to mess that up.”

“You won’t mess anything up. Last night, before the tree, you asked me a question. You wanted to hear me say the words. So I'm… saying them right now.”

“I don't hear anything.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay but i’m-”

“I’m serious.”

“Fine.”

“I love you.”

“The first time we kissed and I looked into his eyes,” Jo shakes her head, bemused with herself. “All I could think was, ‘There you are, it's you. I’ve been waiting for you for so long’.” she chuckles despite herself, wiping the single tear making its way down her cheek, knowing that whenever Alex was right now, he was shaking his head at her, trying to hide a laugh at her heartfelt statement, but yet holding it close to his heart, knowing that she meant every word.  

“We were far from perfect. We bickered back and forth, called each other names. Not to mention, our stubbornness always got in the way of us. But none of that really mattered, because at the end of the day, we’d fall asleep in each other’s arms, whether we were fighting or not. And even if we were fighting, he would always kiss me good morning and good night. Always. No matter what.” Jo lets out another huff of air, still being able to remember the feel of his lips on hers, the way they tasted, the way they moved. She smiles a small cheeky smile, “Good morning and goodnight kisses were important to him.”

She longed for it. Another kiss. Another moment. Another conversation. Another beer. Another crooked grin. Another boyish laugh. Another inappropriate joke. Another steamy shower. Another nuzzle with his scratchy beard. Another round of doughnuts in supply closets. Another chance to fake cry to get a hotel room. Another annoying comeback. Another hug. Another ‘I love you.’

One more second. One more second with him, so she could tell him about their beautiful little girl. One more second, so he could meet her, hold her, hug her. That’s all she wanted.  

They sit in silence for a while, taking in the peace around them. Jo observes the light grey walls, white furniture, messy dresser, the string lights on the wall, the photos on the strings. Bree gets up unexpectedly, grabbing a photo from the wall walking back over to the bed with it in her hand, passing it to her mom as she sits down again.

Jo traces her finger over the photograph, a lighthearted smile making its way to her lips unconsciously. It was an older photo, one from about two years after she and Alex had started dating. It was a simple couple pose; Alex standing behind her with his arms wrapped around her middle, Jo leaning into him, her hands placed over his. She was smiling wide for the camera, while he was half-smirking, half-grinning.

“Oh oh! I wanna take a picture!” Jo exclaimed excitedly as she stood on the ferry boat, the sun casting a breathtaking pink, orange, and yellow glow over the normally dark blue water.

She hears him groan behind her as she leans over the railing, elbows resting on the bar as her hair blows in the breeze, a gentle smile painting her lips.

She was a sight to see, Alex couldn’t help but grin right then. He always loved her the most when she was like this; calm, messy hair, a little bit of leftover makeup from earlier, just completely content with herself and everything around her.

He watches as she tilts her head back, eyes closed as she lets the sun’s rays shine onto her face, creating a natural glow that only seemed to add to the beauty she so naturally possessed.

Jo looks over to him, flashing Alex an overly sweet, sugary smile. “Pleaseee.” she begs, eyes dancing with childlike joy. He would gladly do it, he just didn’t want to look like a tourist. He freaking hated tourists.  

He mumbles something inaudible, which Jo takes as an opportunity to ask again. “Just one! Please Alex, just one picture!” she gives him her best puppy dog eyes, pointing up one finger to show him that she was true to her word.

“Fine.” he huffs, scratching the back of his neck and extending his palm, “Gimme your phone.”

His girlfriend gives him a confused look, “Um no, what do you think you’re doing?” she asks, furrowing her brows.  

Alex’s face twisted into one of incredulously, “Taking your picture?” he asks.

Jo shakes her head, “No, you’re taking the picture with me.”  

Alex grimaces, “Nuh-uh.” he hated taking pictures. His smile was weird and he felt like a gun was being pointed to his head whenever someone tried to correct the crookedness of his grin.

“Please Alex,” Jo pleads, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

She could see the internal battle playing in his head. He normally wouldn’t mind taking a photo, but there were people around, and if there was one thing Alex Karev hated, it was public embarrassment.

But how could he resist her? He couldn’t, so with a huff and a ‘you’re lucky i love you’ mumbled under his breath he watches as Jo asks a random woman to take their photo. He wraps his arms around her, her fingers interlacing with his as she leans back into him, standing between his legs with her head against his chest.

“One, two, three, smile!” the woman says enthusiastically.

Before three, Alex quirks his lips up, reaching down slightly so he could speak in Jo’s ear. “Tourist.” he says, making her laugh right as the woman took the photo.

Jo feels her daughter's eyes on her, but she still looks at the photo. They looked so young, so free. Back then the only care was whether or not Meredith would be coming over to kick her out of bed that night. Fun times.

“I just want you to smile like that again.” Bree says quietly, Jo’s eyes snapping up with confusion.

“Sweetie…” she trails off, tucking a stand of her daughter’s long brown hair behind her ear, eyes shining with unshed tears. She picks up a photo from Bree’s dresser, holding it side by side to the picture of her and Alex.

“I smile like that all the time.” she grins, the same smile on her face now as it was in the two photographs in her hand.

Bree had never looked at it like that before. The two smiles were identical, you could tell when you held them next to each other. She grins widely, she makes her mom as happy as her dad did.  

The girl feels her mom wipe a stray tear, one she hadn't even noticed had escaped her eyes. JO wraps and arm around Bree, pulling her into a side hug, holding her there for as long as she pleases.

“How different do you think life would be if he was still here?” she asks her mom, eyes glossy and shining with love.

Jo chuckles, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “Well…” she starts off. It felt good talking about Alex. She had never talked about him like this before. She told stories, spewed little facts here and there, but never went into too much detail, fearing that it would hurt too much. Turns out, it actually felt really good.

“You would have siblings, that’s for sure.” Bree shoved her mom’s shoulder, a laugh escaping her lips. The mood grew more serious, “But, if he was still here…” she looks into the corner of the room, imagining the love of her life standing there right now, arms crossed in front of his chest, signature crooked grin plastered in his lips, a little child hanging onto his leg like a monkey.

“He would’ve braided your hair.” her eyes grow teary as she smiles softly. “And, he would’ve called you Princess.” she swallows the lump in her throat. “You two would always be getting into trouble together. God, you would’ve been such a daddy’s girl.” she doesn’t even bother to wipe a tear from her cheek, knowing that they would just keep coming. “There would be full cooked breakfasts on the table nearly every morning, since he would get up early just to make it. And he would say that you weren’t allowed to date until you were forty.” she laughs.

Bree looks up at her mom, confused. “But Mom, you do all that.”

Jo smiles, placing another kiss on the top of her head full of brown hair. “I know, and I do it because it’s what he would’ve done.” she wipes tears from her daughter's cheeks.

“But I want you to know that I love you, okay?” Jo reassures her. “I love you more than anything else in this world, you hear me? And even though your dad’s not here right now,” she points to her heart, water dripping down her cheeks rapidly, her voice squeaky and broken. “He’s right here, with me. Every second of every day. And I miss him, I will never stop missing him, but that doesn’t mean I will ever love you any less. And I am so happy baby. I am so, so happy, and that’s because of you, okay?”

Bree wipes at her eyes, smiling up at her mom. “Okay, I love you mom.”

Jo gives her a watery grin, placing a delicate kiss on her forehead, “I love you too Bree. So much.”

[thebrochtuarachs]

To Begin Again, Chapter 11: “Riding”

A/N: I know it's been a while since I updated this story but I hope you like this short little chapter. :) It's been fun revisiting this story and I just love this AU of Jamie and Claire. It’s been a while since I wrote so apologies in advance and as always, comments and suggestions are always welcome. Hope you're staying safe in this pandemic. Love always, M

This chapter is dedicated to @samncait4ever​. 🧡 Thank you for being a wonderful friend and fandom ally. Rest in Peace. <3 

AO3 / CH: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

XXXX

Jamie and Claire spent the next two days rekindling with each other inside the laird's room, only bothering to leave the chambers once to grab food from the kitchen that will last them for days.

They flitted through talking, eating, coming together, and sleeping ( not particularly in that order ) until they’ve reached another pause in what has been a blissful 2 days.  

"Jamie," Claire said softly, a hand caressing the back of his head, "I don't think I've ever been so happy." Jamie rolled to one side, shifting his weight carefully so as not to squash his wife, and lifted himself to lie face-to-face with Claire.

"Nor me, my Sassenach," he said, and kissed her lightly, but lingering, so that she had time just to close her lips in a tiny bite on the fullness of his lower lip. "It's no just the bedding, ye ken," he said, drawing back a little at last. His eyes looked down at Claire, a soft deep blue like the warm tropic sea.

"No," Claire said, touching his cheek. "It isn't."

"To have ye with me again -to talk wi' you -to know I can say anything, not guard my words or hide my thoughts...God, Sassenach," he said, "the Lord knows I am lust-crazed as a lad, and I canna keep my hands from you-or anything else-" he added, wryly, "but I would count that all well lost, had I no more than the pleasure of havin' ye by me, and to tell ye all my heart."

Claire’s heart ached and soared with Jamie’s confession, much more to the fact that his sentiments echo to hers so strongly.

“So tell me all yer heart” Jamie said, “We’ve got time now”

Claire gave a small chuckle but moved to settle a bit more to Jamie’s side. "It was lonely without you," she whispered. "So lonely." She need not say more.

“Do ye regret it?” he asked, not really meaning to dampen their high but a question that came naturally in the conversation.

Claire didn’t even think about not answering but owed it to her and Jamie’s newfound strength to bring up these kinds of conversation in their reunion.

“The time we lost, yes. Brianna, no - definitely not.” She gave him a wry smile and continued. “There are so many what-ifs, the things we dreamed about happening, the future we planned… a part of me wonders what our life would be like if we stayed in the 18th century, raised Bree in that time with Jenny and Ian.”

“Aye, I do ken what yer saying. I spent a lot of time in the cave thinkin’ about ye and the bairn and what she’d look like, how ye’ll be as the lady of the house, something of the like’

Claire glanced at the window where the light was strong through the blinds, telling us that it was probably mid to past noon.

“Jamie, as much as I’d like to stay here another day, Bree’s coming in the evening and we need to get up and put our clothes on at some point.”

Knowing full well that Jamie won’t be the first to comply, Claire reluctantly got up and rummaged through the pile of discarded clothes on the floor to look for some undergarments and pants. Jamie was still not moving, staring at her with hooded eyes she knew so well but she would not budge as well.

“Oh, come on, get up!” She said laughingly as she pulled the blanket off Jamie’s body forcing him to groan in the cold. “There’s plenty more to see around! care for a stroll with me?”

“With ye, anywhere, Sassenach.”

-

Bree’s last class for the day cancelled allowing her to travel up to Lallybroch earlier than scheduled. Her parents' directions were fairly easy to follow and now, she found herself on the rough path towards a 3-story building that was meant to be her home.

She saw every detail as told by her mother - the arch that bore the Fraser emblem at the top, the handsome three-story manor of harled white, windows outlined in the natural gray stone, a high slate roof with multiple chimney’s and several smaller whitewashed buildings clustered about.

She took it all in and expected to feel all the history to overwhelm her but for some strange reason, it brought her a sense of peace and belonging.

She parked her car and proceeded to knock on the front door. After three tries and no answer, she decided to explore the backyard and found out why her knocks and calls were unanswered.

Over the horizon, Brianna saw two horses racing one another in the open field, the competition clearly fierce.

“You’ve lost your touch on the horse, Sassenach” Jamie called, looking briefly behind him to watch Claire.

Claire commanded her horse to a faster speed, easily surpassing Jamie, calling him out “Sorry, you were saying?” she laughed. “Race you to the stables!”

With her headstart, Claire ran out Jamie and won the race.

Once she dismounted her horse and led her white horse to her stable for some food and water while Jamie followed suit, dismounting from his black stallion.

“I should’ve known you were holding back from me, Sassenach.” Jamie said, walking towards her as she closed the door to her horse’s stables.

“Well, if last night was any indication, you shouldn’t have doubted that” Claire replied, allowing herself to be trapped as Jamie placed both his hands on the stable door, blocking her way.

"I thought you'd be a little sore but I seem to be mistaken" Jamie teased, leaning in for a kiss until -

“Mama! I’m surprised that you can ride...” Brianna began her question “... a horse!”

“Bree! You’re here! I thought you won’t arrive till nighttime” Claire pulled away from Jamie’s arrest and went to greet their daughter.

“Yeah, my last class got cancelled. Roger and Mrs. Graham will come in a couple of days.” she explained. “Hi, Da” Bree proceeded to give Jamie a brief hug as well.

“Well, it’s almost lunch, I think we have pork chops we can easily deep fry.”

“Sounds good.”

The trio walked back to the house where Claire proceeded to the fridge and told Jamie and Bree where everything else in the kitchen are.

“So, tell me about the house” Bree asked as they prepared their food.

Claire and Jamie proceeded to exchange stories, flitting between when Jamie’s father built it, to stories of the Fraser children being born in the house,  to when they stayed there for a couple of months after they got married, how Jenny and Ian kept it in the family through the challenging years in the past and how Claire purchased and renovated to what it is now.

“It’s a rather large piece of land, that’s why we need the horses.” Claire finished the story.

“How’d you learn?” Bree asked.

“Well, you know my stories with Uncle Lamb and how we traveled to archaeological sites when I was younger. I had to learn pretty quickly how to ride. And then, when I met your Da, he was a soldier and a stable boy, taking care of the horses, so I got to spend a lot of time watching him train the young kids in the castle” Claire explained.

“Do ye know how to ride, Brianna?” Jamie asked as they fixed the table.

“Uhm, no.”

“I can teach ye! If ye want, of course.” Jamie stammered, hoping he did not push his limits.

“Yes! I would love to.” Bree exclaimed excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to try but never got the chance.”

“Why not? I thought Boston had good facilities for horseback riding?” Jamie asked. Bree and Claire exchanged glances but came out with it.

“Frank and I were either too busy with the university or the hospital so we never really got to take Bree out to spontaneous weekend trips.” Claire began to explain.

“Our trips are planned months in advance so everyone is free. We mostly went to historical sites or the beach for maximum relaxation but adventures like these didn’t happen often.” Bree followed.

Jamie looked unsure how to proceed based on their stories as it seemed half fun. Claire and Bree picked up on it and decided to continue on baby steps when it comes to telling Jamie details of their life the past 20 years.

“Maybe you can start teaching Bree how to ride later after lunch and we show her around the house” Claire pitched.

“Sounds like a plan!” Brianna agreed with a clap.

They proceeded on eating their pork chops while continuing with exchanging stories about Lallybroch. After lunch, they showed Bree to her room while they all freshened up and took a short nap.

Around 4:00 in the afternoon, they all went back to stables where Jamie introduced Bree to one of the mares, Jilly, gave a little lecture and then let her mount up. Claire was content watching on the side with a basket full of snacks for the afternoon.

“Alright, now, just try and be comfortable on the horse. Sit straight and relax. You know when they say that horses smell fear, it’s true” Jamie said to Bree. “Okay, I’m going to take you on a short walk around.” Brianna nodded and gently held on the reins.

Jamie took the horse for a walk around an open lawn and Brianna pretty quickly caught up with the rhythm. After 5 trots, Jamie put the horse on a gallop as a challenge and his daughter ran with it excellently.

“This is fun!” Bree called out to Claire.

“Wait till you dismount it then let me know again.” Claire joked. “But you’re doing great, sweetheart!”

After two hours on and off the horse, night was falling in and they decided to call it a day.

“I’ll go ahead and start dinner, hope you like carbonara. You two, take care of things around here.” Claire declared.

“I’ll walk her to the stables.” Brianna insisted and took the reins from her Da and walked Jilly back to the stables.

“I’ll follow you in a minute, Bree” Jamie said as Claire went towards him for a snuggle as they watched their daughter walk ahead.

“She’s a natural, Jamie” Claire whispered. “Just like her father”

“Don’t make me cry, Claire. But yes, she is” Jamie pulled Claire tighter and gave her a light kiss in the hair. “I always imagined how teaching and taking our children out on a horse would look like. Now, I don’t have to.”

“Aww, darling. It truly has been the best days and I know there is more to come.” Claire lifted her head and gave Jamie a quick kiss. “Now, go and teach our daughter how to rub down a horse and I’ll get dinner started.”

[chaosride]

A Divine Appointment (x7)

Chapter One

“Anyone who does anything to help a child is a hero to me.” — Fred Rogers

Anders had always been good with children. Even when he was younger, before the Circle, the other village kids had adored him. Sometimes he would see his mother watch him with sad eyes as he carried around whichever smaller kid had requested it. He hadn’t understood until after the last time he would see her that she was sad he was an only child, that she hadn’t been able to give him siblings to dote on or his father the gaggle of children he wanted.

For the first few months of being at the Circle, the other children all avoided him. Before, it would have been something he would have tried to rectify. Especially some of the younger children who clung to the robes of older apprentice mages who clearly didn’t have the patience for them. But at that time he didn’t want to talk to anyone ever again; childishly he had sworn that if they took his freedom, they took his voice too. After his first escape, which earned him a good whipping and a relatively short stay of three weeks in solitary, the younger children had become something of a balm to him. They were trapped here, same as he was, and he could protect them in some small measure while he was there. Every escape after they clambered into his bunk with their blankets and demanded to know the details.

When Anders returned from his year-long stay in solitary many of them were gone and the ones who remained were older in ways he wished he didn’t understand. One of the templars who had escorted him to his personal worst nightmare had taunted him that it was a shame that no one had been around to mind the younger mages while he was away, though the nasty smirk on his face said he thought the opposite. Anders knew that they had taken it out on the children in his place, and any hurts were his fault. He wished he had never started speaking again sometimes.

The children were sometimes the only reason Anders lit the lantern and opened the clinic. The adult refugees of Darktown were able to look after themselves for a day, but the urchins that littered Kirkwall’s underbelly couldn’t. Often there was a pack or two that came by per day, bringing this friend or that sibling who had gotten hurt doing jobs they shouldn’t have to in order to survive. He steadfastly ignored Lirene’s chiding to stop giving all his food away to them; he could figure something out, he was an adult.

Besides that, they had saved his life more than once in a variety of ways. Between warnings about templar patrols, acting as distractions, and fetching aid when he needed it, Anders would have been dead ten times over. Even so he was careful to keep them at arm's length, for their sakes. He had learned from the children he cared for in the Circle and from Karl, he was a dangerous person to love. They deserved that fate even less than they deserved to be living on the streets.

Every week saw a wash of new faces mixed with familiar ones, as well as a lack of others. Some of the groups move on to different cities, but many of them are lost to the grisly beast that is Kirkwall. Though he sees children every day it is rarely the same group within a week if not better when Anders first came to the city. They came to him with teary eyes and gingerly cradled wounds, ate his food and then left again.

Sometime after they returned from the Deep Roads, that changed but only with one group of children. They had a decent number to their little family, and Anders had never seen less than four of them together. They had started setting up near the clinic at night, and he had noticed them a few times coming back late from drinks or whatever fights Hawke had gotten them into that day. He remembered thinking that the youngest of them were no more than babies, still toddlers and hoping that they found a safer place to spend their nights soon.

The first time the children came by, it was before the clinic had actually opened for the day. Anders had been up boiling bandages and washing what few linens he had for the cots. The knock at the door had been so soft that he figured it was a breeze rattling the flimsy door in its frame. If it hadn’t been so quiet, he might not have realized they were out there, but the soft sound of whispers bleeding through the door caught his attention. The second knock was louder and more deliberate.

It took Anders a moment to wipe his hands off and get to the door. When he opened it there was a huddle of kids towards the stairs, having obviously decided Anders wasn’t going to answer.

“What are we supposed to do now?” One of them, a young elven girl, whispered. “Why isn’t anyone answering?”

“It’s early Bree, most people aren’t up yet. We’ll have to find someone else or wait for Delilah,” a dwarven boy answered her.

“But it’s an emergency, Cat’s really sick. Why close at night, emergencies happen at night too. What are you supposed to do?”

“Everyone has to sleep sometime. And you just have to survive and get help as soon as you can.”

Anders stepped out of the clinic towards them.

“Someone’s sick?” Anders called to them when they backed away from him in tandem. “I’m a healer, I can help,” he soothed and held his hands up.

The girl who had been speaking before turned towards him, her little face hopeful.

“You’ll help Cat?”

“I’ll do everything I can,” Anders assured her. “What’s wrong?”

“She had a fever last night but now it’s worse and she was coughing and won’t eat or drink,” the girl told him all in one breath. She went to step closer but the boy held her back. He regarded Anders with distrusting eyes.

“What do you charge for healing?” He asked Anders carefully.

“Nothing, I run a free clinic, it doesn’t cost any money. It sounds like she may have caught that bug that’s going around, I have herbs to help with fever. Come in, let me take a look at her.”

“If we don’t have to pay in coin, what do we have to do in return?” The boy didn’t move closer and didn’t release the girl who had spoken.

“It’s free, you don’t have to do anything in return.”

“Nothing's free,” the boy said with chilling certainty.

“Not much in life is," Anders agreed, "but this is. If you want me to help, come in and let me take a look.”

“We can… we can leave the door open? And leave anytime we want?”

“Of course.”

Finally the boy nodded and stepped forward. He and the other children followed Anders into the clinic. In total there were five children, including the sick toddler the oldest girl was carrying. The dwarven boy was wary, and made Anders eat from the food he offered them to prove it wasn’t poisoned. The oldest girl, Rosalyn was elven as well, tall and waifish. She watched him with sharp eyes as the other toddler, a boy who looked startlingly like the sick girl, sat in her lap. Bree, the other elven girl, had none of the learned paranoia her companions did and followed Anders around the clinic, asking him about what he was doing and if she could help. Anders let her help with small things like linens and rolling bandages. The herbs he gave to Cat helped lower her fever and he sent another piece of bread for the girl to have when she woke up with them when they left.

Like all the children before, they left once he had healed them and Anders figured they too would eventually stop coming around.

They didn’t. After that they came by for healing every now and then, but they all recognized Anders as he went through Darktown. Bree waved enthusiastically usually, and more than once little Cat and her twin brother Cahir ran to him to be picked up. Slowly even Tanner, the cautious dwarven boy, warmed up to Anders.

It was the early hours of the morning when Anders led Hawke, Varric, Fenris and Isabela towards the clinic. Isabela had taken a bad hit to the head and Anders had healed her as well as he could before the finally began the long trek home and to the clinic where he can treat her more comprehensively. There was a potion that would help with the concussion and a lyrium potion that would give Anders the juice he needed to finish fixing the damage.

“Mage,” Fenris called to him from where he had rounded the corner to the clinic. “There are children gathered at your door.”

“Huh?” Anders said, looking at the elf. He and Hawke were supporting Isabela to help her walk and when they rounded the corner together he saw what Fenris was talking about.

There were in fact children huddled against the door to his clinic. As they drew closer, Bree broke from the group and ran to him, her little face alarmed. She was already speaking when she reached their little group, nearly wailing from how distraught she was.

“-and you’ll help, won’t you healer?” she gasped out, and Anders felt bad that all he had understood was the end of her tirade. He was still carefully sliding Isabela’s weight to Hawke when Fenris stepped forward and elegantly knelt to be on the girl’s level.

“It’s okay,” he told her, “tell us what’s wrong and we will help,” the warrior assured the girl.

“Raelnor got hurt really bad today, he’s been working at the dock, his arm’s bent all wrong and he can’t move his fingers, and then he just said it hurt real bad and fell over and we can’t wake him up,” she told him, her breath still hitching with tears.

“I can help him, sweetheart, go with Fenris and help get him into the clinic, alright?”

She nodded. Fenris shot Anders a look over his shoulder, likely for the mage  daring to tell him what to do, but he said nothing and allowed Bree to lead him to the clinic with one small hand carefully holding his gauntleted hand. Anders watched as Fenris bent his head to speak to her ahead of them and as he helped them carry a new boy Anders had never seen before inside to a cot. The sight of the elf swarmed by curious children made something in Anders’ chest ache like there was a festering wound behind his breastbone.

Once Isabela had been healed and given a potion to help her headache, she helped keep the children entertained while Anders healed Raelnor. Tanner had given them all distrustful looks when they pulled the door shut and locked it but once he saw how Anders’ hands glowed with magic as he prepared to heal Raelnor he seemed to understand.

Raelnor was older and the children called him their brother despite how much darker his coloring was than any of the rest of them. Tanner and Bree could perhaps have passed as his siblings with their dark hair if Bree had not been an elf and Tanner a dwarf. Neither Rosalyn, with her almost white blonde hair, pointed ears and pale skin, nor the twins, with their red curly hair, had any resemblance to the rest. Regardless they were clearly a family unit, a package deal.

From what Anders could gather when he asked them about the accident, Raelnor had been working on the docks to make money for them and had come back late the night before with twice the usual pay and a shattered arm. Once Raelnor himself actually woke up, he was reluctant to say more on what had happened.

“A crate fell when we were unloading our last shipment of the day and my boss gave me extra money to see a healer.”

“But you didn’t?”

“We needed the money, and everyone I tried to see charged more than I could afford,” he had ground out and refused to look at them. “Thank you for healing me, how much do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” Anders told him. “Come to me as soon as possible next time, I’ll heal you free of charge every time.”

It was true for him and the children because it was true for everyone. If Anders could help someone he would, but even if he did charge the healer wouldn’t have been able to accept a single cent from children. He had become a healer because he wanted to help people, not because he wanted coin or thanks.

“Yeah, I will,” Raelnor lied, still looking at his hands in his lap.

“Be careful with that arm, it will still be prone to rebreaks even with healing. You broke it pretty badly,” Anders cautioned him. “Just a moment, I’ll get you something to help with the pain, it will ache for a while still.”

Anders ended up sending them with several pain relieving potions and a basket with most of the food he had just bought for himself. He tried to ignore Fenris’ eyes on him, knowing the other man likely thought him a sucker for giving away so much of his food.

“Well, this has all been very exciting but Bianca and I are going home. I’ll see you all tomorrow. Late afternoon at the earliest, Hawke ,” Varric said. He stretched his stocky arms above his head and rolled his shoulders.

“I hear you, I’ll avoid early morning emergencies to the best of my ability,” Hawke replied.

“Greatly appreciated, Chuckles.”

Anders went about setting the clinic to right for the morning, half listening as the others said their goodbyes and distractedly bidding them farewell as they ambled out of the clinic and back into the night. It was only because he looked up to check if they had shut the door behind them that he realized that Fenris had lingered.

“Mage…” Fenris began before trailing off as he struggled to say what was on his mind.

“You think it’s stupid for me to give them so much?” Anders guessed. He had heard others say that about the children he fed.

“No. I think how someone treats the most defenseless among us speaks to their character. I was going to say that I’m glad they knew to come to you for healing. Have a good evening Anders,” the warrior said before turning and leaving. He shut the door firmly behind him, leaving Anders stunned in his wake.

After that, the younger children became something of a fixture in the clinic when it was open. Anders would often open the door in the morning to find them in a puppy pile beneath the lantern, waiting for the clinic to open for the day after Raelnor had gone to work.

Anders learned they had one other older sister, a young woman named Delilah who worked at the Rose most nights. She came by once or twice to try and give Anders food in payment for healing Raelnor, who became a regular patient in the early hours of the morning.

He tried not to worry about them the nights that he spent away from the clinic with Hawke; they weren’t his children, he had no claim over them. If he got too attached, it would only end in tears as it always had before.

That was until they came to find him somewhere besides the clinic.

They had spent a long, hot day assisting Aveline with some slavers out on the Wounded Coast. Once they had returned to Kirkwall they had all agreed to retire to the Hanged Man for their weekly round of Wicked Grace. Not everyone in their rag tag band was able to make it every week, but they had a decent crowd that night. Only missing Merril and Sebastian, the elf busy with some research she was doing and Sebastian with something for the Chantry.

Isabela was just laying her winning hand down for their fourth round of the night with a thwip and flourish of her hand when Norah gave her normal brisk two raps on the door before it swung open.

“Ah, Norah, you don’t have to bring our drinks to us,” Varric said with a grin at the woman. She rolled her eyes at him.

“You can come get your drinks like everyone else unless you order food, Varric. Actually, I came up because there are kids here asking after your healer, tried to tell them this wasn’t the place for little ones but they’re insistent,” she informed them before turning away and leaving.

A cluster of familiar young faces tumbled through the door and Anders rose to his feet immediately, his heart in his throat. A headcount showed that all five of the younger kids were there, though Raelnor wasn’t with them despite how late it was.

“Mage, it would appear your children are here,” Fenris drawled even as Anders lumbered to his feet.

The healer was exhausted, his mana drained, and he had been looking forward to cards. Could just tell them it’s not clinic hours, Anders considered for a split moment. He had already cast the idea aside when Justice chided him for it.

The trust of children is precious, and they have sought you out. Help them, Anders. The spirit urged.

As Anders rounded the table to come closer, little Cat broke free from where she and Cahir were clinging to Rosalyn’s leg. She wobbled towards him, her arms held out expectantly. Anders scooped her up before she could fall without thinking, and tried to ignore how familiar of a weight she was on his hip. She was warm against his side and wound her arms trustingly around his neck.

“We’re really sorry, healer, it’s just- you weren’t at the clinic and Miss Lirene said you may be here,” Rosalyn said quietly. It was the most he had heard the blonde elf girl speak all at once. “Rae is hurt really bad. He just said that his chest hurt, and he was coughing up blood. Please,” she sniffled. Anders didn’t let her say anything more.

“Where is he? Take me to him, love.”

He was already following them down the stairs, Cat still clinging to him like a limpet, when he heard Aveline’s and Isabela’s voices.

“I didn’t realize Anders had kids,” Aveline sounded surprised.

“I don’t think he was aware either,” Isabela laughed. “Looks like we can go ahead and pack it up, big girl. Looks like we lost the rest of our competition to them as well.”

Anders glanced back over his shoulder in confusion at her last statement to see Marian, Varric and Fenris following after him. Isabela and Aveline appear at the top of the stairs together.

“Now this I have to see,” Aveline said. She sounded much too pleased about it.

“It is all rather darling,” Isabela agreed.

They spill out into the dark streets and Anders almost laughed at the sight they must have made; three grown men, three grown women, and a veritable crowd of chattering children.

Rosalyn shifted Cahir in her arms as Tanner told them that Raelnor was still in Darktown. The boy reached for Fenris with a hesitant look on his face even as he leaned nearly completely out of his sister’s grip seeking him. The warrior looked startled and Rosalyn bounced Cahir.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, “he normally doesn’t want anyone to hold him, I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

“I can’t carry him wearing my gauntlets, I don’t want them to hurt him,” Fenris said.

Anders realized all of his friends had put their armor and weapons back to rights before following them and Fenris had his staff on his back with his own greatsword.

Rosalyn nodded, pulled Cahir closer to herself and stepped farther from the elf. “So give me a moment to remove them and then I will take him,” Fenris finished.

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

“It is no trouble.”

The girl watched with sharp eyes as Fenris stripped his spiked gauntlets off and tied them to hang from his pouch, still within quick reach. Once he was ready she stepped closer and this time when Cahir reached for him, Fenris met him and lifted the boy into his arms. One of Cahir’s small hands curled around the jutting edge of the breastplate of Fenris’ armor.

Anders forced himself to look away from the display and hoped if anyone saw his stare it hadn’t been as transparently fond as he feared it had been. From the look Varric gave him, Anders had no such luck.

They make their way unscathed through Lowtown and into Darktown. Perhaps because even criminals didn’t want to attack children but more likely it was due to luck and how well all of them were known for their fighting prowess. Raelnor was in their cramped little camp set up against one of the walls. Anders had noticed that the group was moving every night a little closer to the clinic; at the rate they are going, they will take to camping outside his front door by month's end.

The boy was pale, his skin clammy and cool to the touch when Anders carefully brushed fingers against his cheek. From how tense he was, Raelnor was conscious if barely. His breath whistled and gurgled in a concerning way, and his teeth were pink with blood.  He settled beside him and scanned him with trained eyes, assessing the possible causes. Anders was just preparing to start casting diagnostic spells to see if it is a rib puncturing the boy’s lung like he thought when Fenris touched his shoulder.

“Anders,” he said his name carefully. “It is too open here, people are watching.”

Anders scanned the refugees littered around them. He knew many of their faces but not all of them. He swallowed and nodded. The clinic isn’t far but they can’t risk jostling Raelnor too much by carrying him if it is a broken rib.

“We can put together a makeshift stretcher,” Aveline said. “There are beams we can use over this way and we can fix them to the blanket he’s on.”

Under her direction, they find pieces of wood long and sturdy enough to fit their needs. They secure the blanket to it and test it to ensure it will hold. Hawke and Aveline waved Fenris and Anders off when they tried to put the twins down.

“Get the rest of your kids into the clinic, we got him,” Hawke told them. Her grin said that she would not soon be letting this go. Anders decided any teasing was well worth it as he held Cat closer to him and let Bree take his hand to drag him towards the clinic.

He could almost imagine he was someone else, somewhere else for a few moments as he listened to Tanner and Rosalyn ask Fenris questions, followed by the warrior's deep voice answering. As if they were just a family returning home after a day at the market as he fumbled, shifting the toddler in his arms in order to retrieve the key to get the door unlocked and open for them. Cat, for her part, simply ignored the jostling and clung tighter to him.

When he tried to put her down inside and she blinked up dazedly at him Anders realized she must have fallen asleep at some point during the walk. He found a cot to lay her down on before going to get a warm blanket and pillow from his own bed to give her. When he returned, Fenris was carefully laying Cahir next to his sister. The twins curled into one another sweetly, both already stilling. Together Anders and Fenris got the pillow beneath both their heads before Anders tucked the now sleeping children under the blanket.

“Okay, where should we set him, Anders?” Marian asked as she and Aveline carefully navigated the stretcher into the clinic. Anders guided them to one of the larger cots and had them set Raelnor, stretcher and all, on it. Fenris shut and locked the door before he returned to help coral the children away to give Anders room to work.

Anders immediately began to check the boy over. His magic had been crackling beneath his skin as soon as he saw the blood on Raelnor’s lips and it surged forward when he called it.

As he had suspected, it was a broken rib in his lung. Anders pulled the potions he would need to give Raelnor afterward he was done healing him and downed his emergency lyrium potion before he set to work. He forced himself to tune out his companions talking to the children, keeping them distracted so the healer could focus. Once the rib was back in place and his lung healed as much as Anders could with magic, he sent another pulse of magic to check for other injuries.

He found four of his other ribs were cracked and Anders was certain Raelnor had lost a tooth recently. His jaw was still swollen but it didn’t seem to be infected. Anders certainly had a few questions for Raelnor once he woke up. Once the pain had been alleviated, Raelnor had gone limp, unconscious without it or his struggle to breathe to keep him awake. Anders stepped away and found a sheet to cover him with. Having already determined he will have a clinic full of kids for the remainder of the night, he found what blankets and pillows he could for the remaining three children and set them out on cots near their siblings.

“Is Rae going to be okay?” Bree asked once she saw Anders had stepped away from her injured brother.

“Yes, he is,” he assured. He saw all of their eyes turned to where Raelnor was still sleeping deeply, unmoving besides his deep breaths beneath the sheet. “He needs to rest, his body still needs time to recover, but he’ll be right as rain in the morning. Now, it’s bedtime for everyone. Come on, come get settled.”

Bree came over willingly and ran her fingers over one of the blankets he had set out with awed eyes. She arranged it on the cot carefully before curling up beneath it at his gentle encouragement.

“Ros, Tanner, you too, c’mon. Bedtime.”

Startled, the two looked at each other.

“I- you are really okay with all staying here tonight?” Tanner asked, “even after we ruined your evening with your friends?”

“You didn’t ruin anything, sweet thing,” Isabela assured him, “me winning every time was getting boring and this was all very exciting.”

“She’s right. Not about winning every time but about it not being ruined. Of course you can stay here tonight, come lay down.”

“Can… can we stay the night more after this?” Rosalyn asked, her voice so hesitant that Anders felt it hit him like a physical blow.

“Of course,” he told her before he could question himself. “Come lay down, love, get some sleep.”

Once he got them settled, Anders returned to where his friends were watching him with various expressions. They mainly looked amused, Aveline still looked a little gobsmacked and Varric’s smirk and sly glances at Isabela said they were already planning a friend-fiction together about the evening. However it was the almost fond expression that Fenris wore that stole Anders' breath from his throat.

It’s because of the children , he told himself firmly. Fenris was good with them, with most children when given the chance, and he never seemed to run out of patience with questions or demands to be carried. It’s because he is fond of the children.

There was no denying that Fenris was handsome, devastatingly so if you asked Anders, but before when all they had done was snap and snarl at each other their differences had been too great to analyze that too closely.

“It’s clear you have it well in hand here, let me know if you need anything,” Hawke said and clapped him on the shoulder as she passed him to leave the clinic. Isabela pressed a kiss to his cheek before jogging to catch up with Marian.

“You got good kids, Blondie,” Varric teased. Aveline waved at him over her shoulder as she and the rogue followed Hawke and Isabela.

Then he and Fenris were alone, besides the children. “They are lucky to have you, mage.”

“I can be pretty handy to have around,” Anders deflected weakly. “I’m just the only one they know to go to.”

“Doubtful, they appear to be very resourceful. They have chosen you because you are a good man. I will see you later, good night Anders,” Fenris said.

“Be safe, you have a good night too,” he answered lamely, tongue tied by this new, earnest side of Fenris he had never seen. He wanted to call out, tell Fenris he was a good man too but the warrior was already gone, the clinic door closed behind him.

Since the children had come into Anders’ life, since that first night Fenris had seen him heal Raelnor, something had shifted between them. It was something new and fragile that Anders refused to examine too closely for fear of breaking it, but nonetheless it was something. It had softened their fights to just bickering and the elf seemed to stop and truly listen to Anders more than he had in the past. Anders hadn’t felt inclined to pray to the Maker or Andraste since Karl’s death, but he prayed that night.

Please, Maker, keep this little family safe, he prayed. I know they aren’t mine, I know I don’t deserve any of them, but please look after Fenris and the children.

(please leave kudos and comments on ao3 if you enjoyed!)

[lilyharvord]

The Chain (Part 5)

Main Concept: Two love struck idiots get sent back to a pretty UGH time period in their lives (that required me to reread all the books again) and have to hide the fact that they know everything. 

Find Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 

Tag list: @delilahlbard @king-maven-calore @scxrletguardsdawn @freaky-freiday @whatsup-gorls @kuwei @redqueenetwork @elane-in-the-shadows @evangeline-of-montfort  @evangelineartemiasamos @petergrantkavinsky (girl I’m so sorry that I haven’t tagged you yet!) @thatoddgirl777 @elliekratzzz. If you want a tag please ask ((: 

Chapter 5 

Cal leaves me a few houses away from my own, and stays in the shadows of another home’s stilts while I walk the last hundred meters to my porch. I can spot the outline of my father’s shadow in the dark as I approach and I glance over my shoulder once to make sure Cal is concealed. Even to my now trained eye, I can’t spot him. He’s much better at hiding now. 

“You shouldn’t worry your mother like that,” my father’s voice rumbles from the shadows, his eyes narrowed. They dance over my shoulder, probably trying to spot what I am looking for. He won’t spot Cal though. At least, he won’t spot him if Cal stays put until we get onto the porch. While I love him, sometimes he’s not the brightest bulb in the country. 

“I’m sorry.” I whisper to my father as he squints at the shadows down the street. If Cal didn’t stay put I think I might have to kill him. 

Slowly turning his eyes back to me, my father shifts in his chair before jabbing a thumb at the utility box. He lets out a huff. “Power went out. Thought I’d give it a look.” He wheels over to the source of his musings wheezing the whole way. I follow dutifully, already sensing the electric current humming from the ground. I can tell which wire is faulty too. Like a small spot of darkness in otherwise pure light, it sticks out like a sore thumb. “’Lec papers didn’t work?” I ask as I watch him try to tinker with the box. 

He pulls one of them from his shirts and feeds it into the box. Nothing happens though. Twisting my lips to the side, I step in front of him and hear his wheel’s squeak as he rolls out of my way. 

“What are you going to do? You can’t fix the damn busted thing.” He grumbles, and that clicking in his chest gets louder as he coughs. 

Prying the thing open with my fingers, I glance at the mess of wires. I need him to look away while I do this. I can’t have him seeing what I can do, especially if all I do is grab a wire and all the lights turn on. I step back from it then, knowing that I’ll have to do it the old fashioned way. 

He rolls forward and smacks the box before I can even try to do anything. His hand hits the metal with a deadening thump that I can feel through my own resting on top. I watch as he continues to hit it, hoping to bring something to life with each swing. I let him throw one good hit before thrusting life back into the box. Sparks dance on the wires, and above us, the porch light hums to life. 

“Well, fancy that,” Dad mutters before spinning in the mud and wheeling himself back to his pulley. Closing the box with one hand, I clench my other hand into a fist to quench the sparks that want to explode to life. 

He waits for me to approach before buckling in and saying, “No more running.” 

I nod and try to smile. I don’t have the heart to tell him what he needs to hear. I’ll be gone by tomorrow and I won’t be back for days. They’ll think I’m dead, and that’s fine. We’re alright someday, I promise myself as I watch the rig rise to the porch with a whine. When he gets there, I climb the ladder, using the time to glance in the shadows for Cal. One detaches and starts walking. He stayed the whole time, I think with a stupid smile. Maybe he had gotten a little smarter. 

At the top, Dad struggles with the rig and I scramble up the ladder before helping him with the belts. When he’s finally free, he mutters, “Bugger of a thing.” 

I can’t help but smile. For all his rough edges, I know what is beneath. “Mom will be happy you’re getting out of the house.” 

He grabs my hand tightly, and the callouses there rub at my skin, reminding me that we’re not out of this hell hole yet. His hands never do soften, no matter how long he lives in Montfort. 

“Don’t tell your mother,” he whispers to me. I purse my lips in response, knowing that given today, she could use even the resemblance of hope. “But—“

“I know it seems like nothing, but it’s enough of something. She’ll think it’s a step on a big journey, you see? First I leave the house at night, then during the day, then I’m rolling around the market with her like it’s twenty years ago. Then things go back to the way they were.” His eyes darken as he recounts what I know will come to pass. He fights to keep his emotions at bay, his voice only wavering slight at the end. “I’m not getting better, Mare. I’m never going to feel better. I can’t let her hope for that, not when I know it’ll never happen. Do you understand?”

I nod, understanding absolutely what that means. Hope comes in small flares to my family, only to be snuffed out. My brothers return from war, but not Shade. Then Shade returns, only to be lost again. They lose Shade, but they gain Clara. They lose me, but my father gains his legs and lungs back. They say goodbye to me on a tarmac when I fly back to Norta to save a country that has never bothered with me, but gain their safety. They almost lose me in Norta when I go the second time. I return to them though, dragging a heartbroken prince behind me. I wish I could tell Dad what is coming, that the future will be better, even if we lose parts of ourselves along the way. He rolls inside though, leaving me on the porch while a weak river breeze cuts through my hair. 

 ((((/////////))))

I’m already awake when the officers kick down our door. I couldn’t sleep, planning every second of tomorrow down to the second. I don’t care that my plan may not survive the first few moments. I will make sure that nothing goes completely off kilter. 

I wake Gisa slowly, and help her out of her cot then down the ladder. She accepts my help at first, and leans on her good arm for support as she goes. Mom waits for us on the floor, and opens her arms to Gisa before engulfing her in a hug. She keeps her eyes on my though. I know why. They’ve come for me, and whatever motherly instinct she possess has told her so. 

Two officers wait by the door, with Walsh between them. My chest tightens at the sight of her. In almost a month, she will be foaming at the mouth on the floor a chamber. Does she feel her clock ticking down like I do?

“We submit to search and seizure,” Dad grumbles, but the officers don’t move. Walsh raises a clean brow at my father’s words though. Stepping forward she brings her eyes to me. “Miss Barrow, you have bee summoned to Summerton.”

I expel the breath I’m holding. I had worried that Cal had given Walsh different orders, maybe to take me another way, but apparently he understood that today has to occur. Gisa’s good hand closes around mine, and I hear for the first time her whisper, “no.” 

“You have been summoned to Summerton,” Walsh repeats when I stay rooted to the spot, shocked by Gisa’s words. “We will escort you. Please proceed.” 

She gives me a smile as I step forward, but Gisa doesn’t let go of my hand. Seeing this Walsh dips her head to my parents. “Don’t worry, everything’s settled after yesterday. The Hall and the market are well controlled now.  Please proceed.”

This is a summons from the crown prince, even if Walsh doesn’t know that, she has to follow her orders. We can’t arrive too early though. I have to get there just in time, so that everything lines up. Turning back to Gisa, I untangle my hand from hers. She leaps forward, making a move to grab me, but Mom holds her back. I give her a little smile in response, hoping to calm her nerves. “I’ll see you soon.” 

Dad’s hand brushes my arm, his own form of goodbye, while Mom’s eyes swim with tears. One of the officers grabs my arm and pulls me toward the door. I look back at the three of them though. The world changes from here too. When they see me again, I won’t be the same. Cal will be with me this time though. We’ll have to come up with something far more convincing than him being from Harbor Bay when we see my family again. We’ll be prepared for that encounter at least.  

The door slams in my face, and I turn forward to watch Walsh descend our ladder. One of the officers pushes me toward it and I follow her to the ground. I’m hustled through the village then, and I know why. Queenstrial awaits, and Walsh does not want to be late. 

I focus on my hands the entire ride in the transport, counting the seconds until I’m trapped in gilded cage with Elara. While Montfort tried to teach us ways to combat whispers, the methods aren’t perfect. Elara was a master of her craft too, I don’t know how much my techniques will help me. My secrets have to remain my own though. She can’t know what is to come. 

We stop at the gate, and after we are let through, I feel Walsh’s eyes on me. She gives me a soft smile. “I’m Ann, by the way, but we mostly go by last names. Call me Walsh.” 

I know. I know more about her than she could ever imagine. She raises a brow at my continued silence. I snap my head when I realize she’s waiting for me to respond. Her name is supposed to ring a bell. Grimacing, I say, “You’re from the Stilts.” 

“I am. I knew your brother Tramy, and I wish I didn’t know Bree. A real heartbreaker that one.” She teases, and I can’t help the smile that those words conjure. A heartbreaker indeed. He had half of the Montfort women eating out of the palm of his hand after living there for only two months. She tilts her head to the side at my expression and muses, “I don’t know you though. But I certainly will.” 

Yes, yes you will. You’ll probably regret it too. 

She waits for another response before raising a brow. “Not the talking type I see. Well, you should know you’ll be working long hours here. I don’t know who hired you or what they told you about the job, but it starts to wear on you. It’s not all changing bedsheets and cleaning plates. You have to look without seeing, hear without listening. We’re objects up there, living statues meant to serve.”

Not for much longer. 

She sighs before opening the door of the transport and helping me out. After wrenching open a door from the wall, she begins to lead me down a flight of stairs. I follow quickly. Queenstrial awaits. Cal is waiting. He told me once that today was both the worst and best day of his life. Worst because he knew it was the day he would never escape Evangeline again, and the best because I managed to ruin everything about Evangeline’s big day. I had pushed a pillow into his face in response, and he’d laughed himself hoarse about it. 

Walsh hurries down the stairs, looking over her shoulder to shout, “Keep up, I don’t have time to hold your hand!” Scrambling to catch her, I descend into a dark tunnel that runs underneath the market and into the Hall of the Sun. She waits for only a moment before saying, “You serve the king now, there’s no time for dilly dallying.” 

 ((((/////////))))

I hurry along a hall of the Spiral Garden, keeping my eyes on the red servant in front of me. He’s much older than me, and I can see it in the way his shoulders slump as he walks. Queenstrial is set to begin, and a bead of sweat runs down my neck when I being to wonder if I’m in the right place. What if I’m not in the right place in line? How long was I in the Samos box for? What if I’m not the servant that goes up to the box I fell out of? Can I stage a fall from the servant’s box? I doubt it. 

By the time I get to the elevated platform the other servants are standing on, I bump my way into line, hoping that I’m in the right place. As I do so, the High Houses enter. I strain to catch sight of them, memories of sitting with Lady Blonos and memorizing their colors bubbling to the surface. Dark blue and red, House Iral. Blue and green, House Osanos. Green and Gold, House Welle. Green and Black, House Viper. Gold and Black, House Provos. I can recall them all from memory. In another year, many of them will be dead. 

I look them all over, and manage to spot Ara Iral, looking beyond bored in her box. But she’s also spying, I know that, cataloging everything away for later. In my distraction, I almost miss my call to the Samos box. I leap to attention, hurrying but trying to make it look like I’m not. I dance between bodies, lighter on my feet than I was even when I was this age. 

I enter the Samos box silently, shifting the curtain aside. From behind, I can see every muscle Ptolemus tries to hide in his fancy shirt. Like Cal, he’s never been able to hide the fact that he would rather be a warrior. My stomach still curls at the sight of him. To think in a few months he will be the reason Clara doesn’t have a father. The sight of Volo makes me queasy. Evangeline told me what fate befell her father in Archeon during the Lakelanders attack, and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to look him in the eye without picturing his face flattened against the deck of a ship. 

I draw my tongue along my lip before saying, “Sir?” He doesn’t even notice me, and a part of me almost laughs. What I wouldn’t give for him to ignore me like this in a few months. Soon, he won’t be able to. He holds out the empty water glass to me, a bored look on his face. “They’re toying with us, Ptolemus.” 

Taking the glass from him, I wait for Ptolemus to finish his. His eyes dance to me in confusion for a moment over his rim before he offers me the glass. I stifle the shake in my hand as I take it, panic coursing through me as he continues to watch my hands. “A demonstration of power, Father.” He says nonetheless as I hurry away to hide my face from him. “They make us wait because they can.” 

I want to spit in his face, or at least make a face in his direction like a child. To think Cal still respects you when you talk about him like a dog you can’t get to heel. Then again, Cal never did hesitate to throw a quip about Ptolemus out. 

I fill their glasses at the sink when the tone sounds, announcing the royal family. I close my eyes and expel a slow exhale. From where I hide in the flowers, I can see the High Houses all rise to their feet. Ptolemus whispers something to Volo, and I wish I was close enough to know what it was. Peeking out from the flowers, I watch as Cal’s father steps onto the balcony. My skin prickles at the sight of him. I can’t begin to imagine what Cal felt the first time he saw him. I know the first time I see Shade I’ll clutch him a hug like never before. I couldn’t imagine Cal doing that with his father, but I’m sure even being near him is making his heart ache. This is a torture neither of us could ever prepare for. Perhaps that’s the dark side of Giselle ability. You could see your happiest moments and the people you haven’t seen in years, only to remember that this has already occurred and you are simply reliving pain. 

From behind him, Elara floats out. I have to clutch the sink to keep from ducking out of sight. She doesn’t know I’m here, she doesn’t even know I exist yet. My plan is going to fail within seconds of seeing her, I know it. My weak little defenses will not withstand her ability. She’ll see everything. She’ll kill Cal, and hang his body up for everyone to see. Weak like his mother, she’ll say. He was sympathetic to the reds, he had to be removed. And it will be my fault. 

“Death to the Scarlet Guard!” rings out from several of the boxes, jarring me from thoughts. I dare a glance to see who is yelling. Haven is the only house I have time to catch before the King shouts back at them. 

“The Scarlet Guard—and all our enemies—are being dealt with!” The crowd silences immediately and my lips curl up in a smile at that. I don’t miss this man, not in the slightest. 

“—today we honor tradition, and no Red devil will impede that. Now is the rite of Queenstrial, to bring forth the most talented daughter to wed the most eligible son.” He continues in his speech, and I crane my neck down the stairs to check on Volo. He hasn’t moved, although he does lean over to whisper something else to Ptolemus. I grip the glass tightly in my hand as I turn the sink on again to hide my breathing. I might be sick right here in this room. If I see him, if I look into those blue eyes will I be able to avoid falling apart?

“Both of my sons honor our most solemn custom,” he waves them forward, and I dare a glance at the back of their heads. Cal’s on the other side of his father. He can’t see me, unless her turns his shoulders and cranes his neck slightly. I squeeze my hand into a fist though as Maven slowly turns, raising his hand in a greeting I know has been perfected by his mother. I slowly set the glasses down and grab the edge of the sink. 

He’s so young, so… clear eyed. He’s not haunted by his demons yet. They’re still alive and standing next to him though. And in that moment, as I look at him, I begin to regret everything. I should have just told Cal that we could do this alone. That we could get to Montfort on our own. We would be at the Rift by now if we had left last night. I should have ignored Jon, I should have said to hell with his meddling, and run. I can’t face Maven again. 

Cal is announced. He turns slowly, smiling and waving politely. When he turns to the Samos box, I can see his eyes searching. When he pauses, and makes eye contact with me, I raise my hand in a small wave. His hand barely twitches. It could be a wave to the Samos family and the others Houses will never know it was for me. He turns forward once more, and I turn the sink off. 

I told him I could do this, I told him that we were in this together. I can’t leave him now. 

In a daze, I leave Volo and Ptolemus their glasses. Even as I climb the stairs, I can’t forget the brief flash of Maven’s eyes. I won’t be able to escape them after this. Inhaling slowly but surely, I return to the servants’ platform. I feel like I can’t breathe. In an hour, I will let myself fall off a platform and into a force field and then, I’ll let myself be betrothed to the man who tried to kill me numerous times. Is this what Cal felt? In the first moment that he had run into Maven, had he felt this rush of emotions? Had his chest felt like it was going to cave in, and his legs were going to fall out from underneath him? 

His father is still shouting, completing the announcement of Queenstrial. I dare another look at him. He’s still smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. As every house claims their right to Queenstrial, his smile wavers a little more until it falls so low that he has to brings his lips back up. Just a little longer, I want to tell him.

When his father turns to Lord Provos to order the arena created, Cal’s eyes dance up to the servants’ box, and catch mine. His shoulders rise and fall in what must be a slow, deliberate exhale. He’s searching for control, or maybe a reprieve. He won’t get one until we find Giselle though. 

Underneath my feet, the platform lurches, and moves. That’s the last look I’ll get until he finds me in that hallway. The hum of electricity underneath my feet tells me the shield has activated, and the fight has only begun. The floor opens and Rohr appears a moment later. She’s even tinier than I remember. She bats her doe like eyes at Cal, and smiles. She’s little more than a child. So was I though. I’m older now though, and I have the wisdom to back it up.

((((/////////))))

It feels like it has been hours. My eyes burn, and my skin crawls until I feel like I’m going to explode like a live wire. Any longer and I might just throw myself over the railing and into the shield to kick start this whole thing. Evangeline was last, but as the parade continues, I softly set my hand on the railing, prepared to throw myself over. 

The minute I think I might actually do that though, the platform at the bottom rises once more, and the sun catches the highlights of platinum blonde hair. My heart beats erratically and a bead of sweat rolls down the back of my neck. Her eyes dart up and around, but her expression is cold. Years ago, I thought that the light in her eyes was malicious. Now I know better. I know that she’s just as disgusted, and irritated with this whole process as everyone else is. Unlike the other girls, she is not seeking out Cal, she is seeking out the crown Elara is wearing. She’s seeking the safety of being queen, where no one will question Elane curling up by her side, and her father won’t be able to order her to do anything. She looks nothing like the woman I remember grabbing coffee with just a few days before I was chasing Giselle down a backstreet. 

I wish she was that woman. That would make things so much easier. 

Her father calls her name and her ability, and a moment later, I’m summoned to a box. My heart hammers in my chest as I pace down thin hallways to answer the call. Once I step into that box, my fate is sealed. I’m going to have to find something deep within myself. Jon had warned me though, had told me to find the strength to get through this. I have to have some faith. Not in him of course, but in myself. I learned that hard lesson at Corros. 

As I gather plates and glasses, I keep my eyes on Evangeline on the screen. She prowls around, searching for something to work with. With a flick of her wrists, and iron studs on her jacket start to move. I can’t help but roll my eyes at the theatrics. And she claims that I’m dramatic. She sets to work destroying the arena while I make my way slowly but surely toward the biggest open space in the box I can find. If she doesn’t tilt the arena, then all of this is for nothing. 

Evangeline never disappoints though. 

The floor shifts underneath me, and I squeeze my hand into a fist at my side. Even though I know I’m going to be just fine in the next few seconds, it doesn’t mean I want to fall thirty feet into a force field. The box tips, and I force an exhale through my teeth. A body slams into me, and I let myself fall. 

It’s a much shorter fall than I remember, so I hit the shield a lot harder than I want. Sparks fly across my skin, and I close my eyes. I feel like a battery getting recharged, and every volt of electricity that burns through me makes me feel whole. The shield wavers underneath me, and I only have a second to push to my knees and spit a curse before it fails completely. I fall the last twenty feet and curl up into a ball as I hit a pile of dust and sand. The blow doesn’t quiet knock the wind out of me, but it still leaves me stunned for a moment. 

Shaking myself out as I try to climb to my feet, I glance up at Evangeline. I’d forgotten the look she’d given me the first time she saw me. The mix of terror, horror, and fear is startling. She never looks at me like that again, not even in the Bowl of Bones when I create a storm from nothing. Above us, the rest of the High Houses gasp and murmur. 

I swallow as I glance around and then back at Evangeline who takes a tiny step back. I don’t have time to say anything this time, because she throws a hail of metal shards at me. I gasp and throw up a net of lightning to catch them. The shards shriek and burst apart a few feet away from me. I release the net and it explodes out, hitting the far wall behind Evangeline. She throws herself to the side to avoid being hit by any stray bolts. 

I hadn’t been that close to hitting her the first time. I grimace, as she whips her head around to look at the hole in the wall before turning her eyes back to me. I would stamp my foot at my stupidity, if Cal’s father didn’t shout for the Sentinels. They bleed out of the shadows in the boxes, and I lick my lips for a moment, tasting the ozone from the shield on my skin. I dare a glance up at Cal who is trying his best to seem surprised by me. Drawing my lips in a tight line, I sprint for the hole in the floor. Just as gun fire explodes behind me, I drop into a slide and go feet first down the hole. 

As soon as I hit the ground of the antechamber below, I start into a dead sprint. The cameras follow me, and every one I pass, I destroy. They explode like fireworks around me and rain sparks into the semidarkness. 

I make it to the mirrored hall and pause for a second to take heaving breaths. My chest burns and my legs already ache. I dont have much time, but I need to start thinking of a plan—gun fire explodes over my head and I drop to a knee and cover my head as pits of the wall cut across my neck. 

Two Sentinels come charging toward me. With a smirk, I charge them. They try to bring their guns up in time, but I drop to my knees and slide between the two of them and throw two well placed bolts of electricity into their hips as I go by. They collapse with a clang of metal, and I scramble to my feet, sprinting once more. At least the hallways are familiar enough to me that I don’t have to stop to think about where I’m going. I only hope that Cal’s memory is as good as mine.

I end up in a hallway, panting and a worried that I’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere. How far away is Cal? Had it been a mistake to knock out the cameras on my way here? Maybe that was how he’d found me last time. 

Footsteps sound from the hall that connects to the one I’m in and spin into a defensive stance, lightning dancing in my hands. Cal comes around the corner though, his entire uniform askew. He catches himself on the wall and I drop my hands immediately. He approaches quickly and his bracelet sparks before a wall of fire encircles us, successfully obscures us from view. 

He reached out for me, and I grab his arm panting, “Don’t have much time, the Sentinels.”

He nods his eyes scanning over my charred uniform. “Elara—”

“I can do this, just don’t knock me out.” I growl as I meet his eyes. There isn’t time for him to play hero or savior right now. He shakes his head quickly and says, “We’ll think of something else.”

“No time. And if you try to dissuade her, she’ll know something is wrong. Let me face her, trust me.” 

He looks like he wants to argue more, but the sound of Sentinels shouting on the other side of the fire makes him whip his head around. I grab his cheek and force his eyes back to me. “Everything will be fine,” I assure him with a little smile. He looks even more uncertain, but his jaw tightens in understanding. I let my legs go limp, forcing him to catch me. Cradling me close to his chest he slowly lowers the wall of fire, whispering, “Be brave. I’ll see you soon.”

I let myself hold onto the image of his face for a second longer than I should, but if I do mess up with Elara, I want to at least remember those as his last words. 

[hystericalweenie]

Just Another Day at the Office - The Sexperiment

George MacKay x Reader Series

Part Five: Make It or Break It

Masterlist

Summary: Y/f/n Y/l/n is doing better than ever; she’s finally in a relationship with the man she’s been constantly thinking about, she has some great friends, and she’s thriving at her dream job. Except, there’s one problem: being in a relationship with one of your coworkers can get really steamy, and can cause a lot of sexual frustration. Her new pitch idea may solve exactly that problem, but will George be okay with it?

a/n: I have absolutely no personal experience in magazine/journalism career, so the information in this fic will be provided with the knowledge I have conducted from research. With that being said, please don’t be mad if this is not accurate!!! **“The Sexperiment” is inspired by an actual Cosmopolitan article (here’s the link!) IM SO SORRY FOR BEING GONE SO LONG I’m here to finish this shit once and for all... I know it’s been a while, but I hold this series so close to my heart and I still have the same love for it as I did when I wrote my last chapter (I know it’s only been a few months but STILL) if you’re reading this, I just want to thank you for sticking around, you’re the best <3

Warnings: This is a slow burn fic, their relationship won’t happen in one night, so if you’re not into that, check out some of the beautifully written imagines that you can most likely find under the george mackay x reader tag. I might eventually write some of my own too :P At least one person’s saying “fuck” and there’s NSFW content..aka smut. You have been warned. Also angst :/ srry this is kinda short

I was in the worst possible situation I could have ever imagined: I had to choose between my dream job and my dream man.

Bree arrived home about twenty minutes later by herself. My bedroom door creaked open, signaling her arrival. She frowned at my appearance, which seemed to be mascara smudged all over my eyes and cheeks and swollen, bloodshot eyes.

She sat down beside me, pulling me into her. “Y/n, I am so, so, sorry.”

I let out a croaked sigh, “I-it’s fine, he was going t-to find out eventually.”

“I’m sure he’ll come around,” she rubbed my back soothingly. “I think he’s in love with you.”

“It doesn't matter if he’s in love or not!” I exclaimed, pulling out of her embrace, my emotions arising again. “He’ll never forgive me for this.”

Hot tears began to stream down my face and I felt my bottom lip tremble. Bree took it as a cue to leave me be, so she quietly exited to her own bedroom.

What the fuck was I going to do?

This job was the job I’d been looking for my entire life; it was the job I’d dreamed about working at. 

But, George... 

George was everything. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that George would have ever fucked up the way I did. I wouldn’t ever have to question his loyalty, he’d proven to be trustworthy and honest. He treated me like a princess, a way I’d only ever been treated by my father. I wasn’t sure if I’d hurt more without him or without a job. He never failed to make me smile or laugh, and he’d ensure that I always felt safe. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever fall in love again, until I met him.

I could get a job anywhere, but there was only one George MacKay.

I had to delete the article.

I headed to the kitchen and made myself two cups of coffee before cracking my knuckles and getting to work. 

Dean, 

This is an emergency. If you don’t reply now or tomorrow, I’m going to be in deep, deep shit.

I didn't have time to wait for his response; I got right to work. 

What are people into nowadays, I thought to myself. Sex.

Ping. I clicked on my email.

Y/n,

What? 

Well, anything’s better than the fucking Sexperiment article. 

Dean,

I have to write a new article. George found out. BAD. Can’t release it, I have to fix this.

Also, would you say your penis size relates to your shoe size at all? It’s for the article.

Promise!

Well, I thought, here goes nothing. My fingers began typing immediately. The caffeine made my fingers shake slightly, but I was determined to write anything. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get George back, but I knew I had to. This was a start, at least. 

Ping.

Y/n,

Knew that was going to happen. I’ll help you out, but you owe me. Can we do this tomorrow though? It’s Friday night. Uhhh and to ur other question: I don’t think so. Not going to elaborate more than that. Hope that’s good enough.

I rolled my eyes.

Dean,

Fine. I’ll send you my drafts and you better respond as soon as you can.

I prayed to every possible higher power that this would work. I began conducting research, reading articles and articles about the relationship between the size of a man’s penis and the size of a man’s feet. I wrote down statistics, quotes, and scientific evidence–making sure to exclude any personal experience. I spent hours explaining the theory and science behind it and citing every single quote.

I wasn’t sure exactly what was going to happen, but I prayed that Connie wouldn’t be too pissed at me and George would hopefully see how genuinely sorry I was. I knew I’d fucked up, I got too caught up in trying to impress my boss that I practically sabotaged my own relationship in the process. I hadn’t received a single text message or call from him. I missed the way he smelt of sandalwood and vanilla, I missed entangling my fingers in his soft, sandy locks. I missed the way his skin felt against mine and his velvety voice when he called me “love”.

Tears ran down my cheeks once again as these memories lingered in my head. I stared at my computer screen, my eyelids drooping; I needed a break. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, so I decided that I was going to be entirely committed on staying up all night. Making a sandwich for myself, I sat and watched television for a moment, attempting to distract me from my obvious thoughts. And once I felt slightly more energized, I resumed reading articles, highlighting quotes, and writing. I continued this until Bree woke up, yawning as she swung her bedroom door open.

“Jesus, Y/n,” she observed, my figure at the kitchen table still hunched over, staring at my screen. “Were you up all night?”

“Yeah,” my voice was raspy from exhaustion. “There’s a pot of coffee waiting for you.”

She smiled softly, walking behind me and wrapping her arms around me. “All couples fight, you know.”

I sighed, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore; I need to get this article done.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re writing a new article?”

“Of course I am,” I defended, my eyes not leaving my screen. 

She poured herself a cup of the hot liquid.

“You love him.”

My eyes began to water and I fought to blink it away.

“Damn right I do,” I muttered to myself, though I was sure she heard me.

After finishing the draft of the article, I sent it over to Dean. Bree suggested that we go see our friends to distract me, but I wanted to stay home. I needed to write the final draft, and see George...both as soon as possible. Bree stayed around to make sure I’d be okay, watching television with me until Dean responded back with the edits. Once he finally did, I was rewriting the article and using his edits to perfect it. Once I’d finally finished it for Monday, I shut my laptop, grabbed my keys, and began driving to his house.

After parking, I climbed up the stairs until I reached his apartment door. I knocked a few times, nerves churning inside my stomach as I pondered all of the possible reactions he’d have. My biggest fear was that he’d never want to see me again. The door opened, revealing himself in a t-shirt and pajama pants, eyes puffy and bloodshot; I was sure my eyes looked the same.

 “I-” I began, letting out a sigh. “I rewrote the article.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“It’s still sex-themed, but it doesn’t have any connection or correlation to you,” I explained, my voice beginning to croak. “I can email it to you, if you’d like. You can read it, see if it’s okay first.”

He shook his head silently. It was apparent that he didn’t know what to say either.

“I know I fucked up,” my voice broke and my bottom lip trembled. “I shouldn’t have come up with an article like that, it was so fucking awful of me to embarrass you in front of your coworkers.”

Tears began to run down my face and I couldn't help but hiccup.

“P-please, George,” I whimpered.

His eyes began to well with tears of his own, and he pulled me into his arms. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you outside of the restaurant,” he whispered, hugging me close to him.

“Oh, George,” I sobbed. “That was nothing; all you’ve done is treat me like gold, and I nearly exposed our fucking sex life to the world.”

He pulled away, cupping both of my cheeks with his palms, his blue orbs staring into mine, his eyelashes thick from wet tears and the whites of his eyes red.

“Please,” he begged, his voice cracking, “don’t lie, nor do something behind my back ever again.”

I pressed my hands against the backs of his, still holding my face in his palms. 

“Never again,” I confirmed, throwing my arms around him to feel the warm embrace I thought I’d never feel again. I could inhale his scent, hear his heartbeat through his chest, stare into his ocean blue orbs, and feel the soft sandy curls on his head.

He read the article, and though it made him slightly uncomfortable that I was writing about penises, he designed simple art that would make the article pop in the magazine. Then, we laid in his bed for hours, listening to each others heartbeats, listening to our breathing rhythms, staring into each others eyes as if we were silently communicating to one another. 

We decided to take a shower together, stripping each other of our clothes slowly and meaningfully. Once the hot water was running down our bare skin, we washed each other; shampooing each others hair slowly and washing our bodies tenderly, leaving kisses on wet shoulders and necks. Once we got out and dried off, we got back into his bed and maintained a spooning position, his bare torso against my bare back, as we dozed off to the warm, comforting feeling of our bare skin touching. 

Monday morning, I sat down at my desk and sent the new article to Connie, anxiety making me bite my nails as I waited for a response back. 

Ping.

Oh, no, I thought to myself.

Y/n,

Meet me in the conference room with Dean.

Connie

I sighed, exchanging looks with Dean–whom was reading the email over my shoulder–before we made our way to the conference room. She stood, her arms crossed, as we entered the room. I gulped, heart racing and sweat starting to form at my palms. The two of us sat ourselves, waiting for her to begin.

She joined us in a chair across from us, her elbows resting against the table.

“Well?” she began, her voice questioning. “What happened to the article?”

Dean looked at me, waiting for me to speak for myself. I braced myself before talking.

“The Sexperiment article wasn’t working for me, Connie,” I explained nervously, “I wasn’t having much luck writing it, and I wasn’t confident that it’d reach the magazine’s standards.”

I had to lie; I couldn’t tell her that the article nearly jeopardized my relationship. Dean sat next to me, silent.

She sighed, “I hope this one will reach the ‘magazine’s standards’, then,” she mimicked, before standing up and flattening her skirt. “I’ll publish the article, but this is a warning: do not change your article without contacting me first.”

And with that, we were dismissed, panic still swimming in our stomachs. Well, I thought, I chose George over my job; what else was I expecting?

[drunklander]

Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 502

Watched this episode after winning Wynonna Earp trivia (fuck yeah, The Shit Tickets!) at a bar, put on by a queer af podcast, followed by going to see a queer af movie, and was all ready to get my Beauchamp fix... And it was like oh here’s a taste and a hint that we’re gonna end up in a story line similar to what we’ve already done multiple times, but now on to the menfolk.

For real though, this episode was like an OL greatest hits clip show. It had all the stuff we’ve seen before. A time traveler who wants to go home? Check. Rape PTSD? Check. A man being a dad to a kid who isn’t/might not be his? Check. That same man being the absolute worst? Check. Claire being reckless with future medicine? Check. Townsfolk questioning Claire’s medical knowledge in favor of the local Man of Importance? Check. Jamie trying to be on both sides at once? Check. A villain who seemed to have died the previous season and should have fucking stayed dead? Check.

We’ve literally seen all of this stuff before.

For a show that spent the first part of season two claiming to be a political drama and then last season claiming that they “weren’t political” I see we’re back to just leaning hard into politics that have direct parallels today.

No fucks left to give about the system Murtz is kind of my favorite Murtz. Like this dude spent his whole life living by a code and an oath and was fucked over by the system so many fucking times that he’s ready to just burn it all down. Curious to see how they walk the domestic terrorist vs. freedom fighter line with him for the rest of the season.

Got all excited about the bread title card because yay medicinal mold, but of course, the lead character was relegated to the B story.

Old timey medicine baffles me. Like the fact that bleeding someone was like a catchall remedy boggles the mind.

I feel rull bad for Mrs. Whoeverthefuck though. She tried.

Also, shit like this makes me be like, yo Claire, you sure you wanna stay here? Jamie’s really not all that and a bag of chips. But you do you, boo.

Speaking of Jamie, his hair looks really good. A thousand fruit baskets to the new wig person.

Lulz at Knox thinking the Gathering was about being loyal to king and country. Dummy.

Srsly though, Murtz Valmurtz is really getting under their skin. Is he like the *only* Regulator leader?

The convo between Knox and Jamie is literally as relevant today as it is in the 1770s. But yeah, the show IsN’t PoLiTiCaL.

The fact that fuckers think those at the bottom should be happy with their lot because “lol it could be worse” need to be punched in the face and taken out of power. Stat.

Also any time someone in power talks about civility as a reason not to rise up against injustice, I want to punch them. Because they deserve it.

I want to punch a lot of things.

This whole episode is very Les Mis, tbh.

Literalol at Claire covering dead guy’s face and not his body cavity before Bree comes in.

Aw Bree, why you gotta be a buzzkill? We were cheated of badass Doctor!Claire in S3. Let us have this.

Also, yeah, Claire, Bree’s fucking right. Which you’d think you’d know by now what with alL THE FUCKING TIMES YOU’VE BEEN CALLED A WITCH. AND NOW YOU’RE UPPING YOUR GAME TO LIKE NECROMANCY?!

Also the more she says no one will find out the more annoying it is because *clearly* someone *is* gonna find out and we’re gonna be back on the “she’s a witch!” “I’m not a witch!” “you literally have a dead guy in your closet!” merry-go-round again.

Today in most on-the-nose shots ever: How convenient that Marsali just happens to be doing some butchering right there, right then.

Petition for the show to go full Shondaland and just turn into a backwoods medical drama with Claire and Marsali, and all the others (cough the men cough) can fuck on off.

Tarring and feathering is like the old timey version of #AlwaysPunchAFascist but dialed to 11.

Oh the baggage behind Jamie saying redcoat man will someday wear his scars with honor that none of these fuckers know about...

Ok so clearly the English know that Claire’s a doctor so whenever shit hits the witchy dead dude fan, can we please have a quick resolution and not that dumb af “Claire goes to jail and of course her cellmate is a lesbian because Diana sucks at writing queer characters” nonsense?

Man Jamie is *not* subtle with this convo at the jail. Like Knox is right there and he’s just like hey buddies, I have people and we’re Scottish and y’know how we feel about protecting people vs. obeying the English.

I AM SPARTACUS FITZGIBBONS!

Aaand, naturally, the fuckwit preaching civility is the one to kill a man in cold blood. Rise up, motherfuckers. Rise up.

THANK FUCK ROGER IS A TERRIBLE SHOT BECAUSE IF THAT SQUIRREL DIED I WOULD LEGIT QUIT THE SHOW. RUN AWAY AND BE FREEEEEE YOU PRECIOUS LIL WILDERNESS FLOOFER!

Roger is, and I cannot stress this enough, the fucking worst.

He’s like look how shitty I am at being a soldier but then bitches about having to try to learn. And then he bitches about how dumb it is to shoot at squirrels as if being able to hit a squirrel wouldn’t make hitting a much larger thing, like a man who is shooting back at you, that much easier. And also, how the fuck does he think they get meat to eat? Shooting it, you twatwaffle.

And he’s like so fucking butthurt about being left behind. Like no shit, asshat. You’re bad at being in the past and have made no real effort and you whine a lot and are generally the worst. Of *course* you were left behind. Stop being emo about it and maybe actually try.

“He doesn’t respect me, Bree.” Yeah, no shit. Because you’ve done LITERALLY NOTHING to earn his respect. WHY ARE YOU SO TERRIBLE IT’S LIKE THEY’RE INTENTIONALLY TRYING TO MAKE HIM SUCK.

He also is like butthurt that his wife is a better shot than him when she gets the turkey he misses. How the fuck are we supposed to ship this. Ugh.

#BreeDeservesBetter

Oh Bree, sweetie, Jem won’t get hit by a car, but there are like eleventy million ways to die in the past. Just stick with the “you want to stay with your family” stuff.

Roger clearly doesn’t want to stay and is gonna pull a Fred and make Bree feel bad about wanting to all season, isn’t he. Fahkin’ doucherocket.

“I want to go but I’ll stay for you and look how magnanimous I am as I whine about it and make no effort to acclimate to the time.” Take your martyr card and shove it, Rog.

Shorter Jamie Fraser: “If you stand for nothing, Knox, what’ll you fall for?”

I’m already over Roger singing all the time tbh. Mostly because it reminds me that soon he won’t be able to do that anymore and we’re gonna be subjected to like half a season of him being more insufferable than he already is.

Wait, was Joan already born last episode? Or was there another time jump? Is Marsali preggers with baby #3? I lost track.

I love this scene between Claire and Marsali with my whole heart. Marsali especially.

CAN WE PLEASE JUST HAVE A WHOLE SHOW OF THESE TWO BEING ALL BADASS AND DOCTORY TOGETHER!?

Although, quick question, how fucking long is Claire planning to keep that un-embalmed body lying around in an un-refrigerated surgery/root cellar? Just curious...

Because you know someone’s gonna find it eventually and that’s gonna be a whole to do and I really need to stop being preemptively annoyed at plot lines that haven’t actually happened yet.

And with all this talk of plowshares and swords, I really am going to be singing Les Mis for days...

How long have these biddies been living on the Ridge? The fucking Leoch folks spent like a minute with Claire before they were like yep, she knows what’s up. These folks have apparently been here for months and are like loool, pass. They live in the fucking woods. You’d think they’d be more open to Claire’s brand of medicine.

Omg are they like the accidental antivaxxers of the Ridge?

#VaccinateYourFuckingKids

I mean, Bree, I think there’s some difference between Claire pretending to be a dude doc and telling folks to wash their hands and Otter Tooth.

Season 2 Claire and Otter Tooth on the other hand...

Ok so Jamie needs more men so that means next week is AHS: Beardsley Farm and then maybe (hopefully) instead of being like lol jk you can all go home, it actually goes right into the battle thing. Still not sure if they’re gonna do Roger getting hanged as the mid-season big thingy and then do the Bonnet nonsense in the back half or keep trying to do both of those at once.

Hey, Roger, pro-tip, next time you see Morag MacKenzie, maybe don’t fuCKING MAKE OUT WITH HER YOU FUCKING DUMBASS.

Claire’s totally right about how they should go back. Honestly, they should. But instead of talking with her like Claire is now with Roger, he’s just being all moody about how he’s bad at the past and wants to go back. You’re shooting yourself in the foot, broski.

Oh hey Husband the Quaker. And is that a fellow Quaker named Hunter with him? Are we gonna get Denny and Rachel this season?! Please and thank you that’d be great, I love them.

Murtz talking to his squad is full on Enjolras being like don’t worry fam, Marius will stand and fight with us. His place is there, he’ll fight with you.

The two very different but very similar ways Murtz and Jamie approach being Laird of their squads is fun to explore.

Bree lecturing Claire about changing the future by saving a few backwater hicks like Claire didn’t spend years trying to fucking change all of Scottish history is a bit rich. Like writers, we get it, you’re trying to be like oh snap, wait for the consequences of this bread!science! But like come the fuck on. We sat through all of season two.

“You’re a good dad, you know that?” Oh man, I’m getting that déjà vu about a shitty man getting kudos for being a good dad to a kid as if that negates all of his shittiness.

Oh hey, Bonnet’s back. Clearly we couldn’t have just let him die last season. Gotta drag shit on for longer than it has to. This is the [Outlander] Way.

If they were gonna keep him around as a villain, they shouldn’t have (in addition to all the other reasons) included him raping Bree. Jamie, Murtagh and Bonnet all making choices within and outside of the law to various degrees in order to make their living in the Colonies would be a really interesting contrast. But nope, gotta just go all in. BeCaUsE tHe BoOk.

Also I hate with the passion of a thousand fiery suns the Jemmy’s paternity stuff. Le sigh.

Remember in season one when the show was about Claire and she was in episodes for longer than 10 minutes?

I miss Claire.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Faint Of Heart 21- Silent Anger [Ivar x Reader]

A.N.: I love your feedback so much, it makes my day ❤️ Please keep it coming, kisses! ❤️

Summary: Anger does not have to be loud.

Characters: Ivar x Reader, Ubbe x Torvi, Hvitserk, Bjorn

Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of violence and blood, mentions of sex and arranged marriage, please read with care. Also, friendly reminder that  I don’t condone any of the messed up stuff happening on the show or in here.

Word Count: 4276

Due to the linking issue, previous chapters are in my masterlist!  ❤️

Gif’s not mine!

“You took the whole coast?” Ivar asked you incredulously as he walked beside you and you twirled on your tiptoes to look at him better, walking backwards,

“Yes.”

“After the raid, that whole coast will be ours?”

“Not just that,” You beamed at him, “We also got those towns that Edgard wanted. I figured that since we will have the coast, we will also control the ships there, and if we also have the resources of those towns, we can trap his forces if we want.” Your head shot up, “Oh and also he will be responsible of feeding the army throughout the raid, and he will also be paying half of the expenses of your warrior’s families left behind in Kattegat.”

“Their families?”

You nodded “We need to make sure they’re well taken care of, Ivar.”

Ivar looked at you with pride, and stopped you to pull you into a kiss, making you smile.

“You never stop surprising me, little shark,” he muttered against your lips, “What do you want from Dorestad?”

“For you to come back unharmed of course,”

He pulled his brows together in amusement, “What else?”

You stole a look at him, “And for your affections not to change while you’re on raid.”

“Impossible.”

You bit down on your lip, resting your hand on his chest as what your brother had said echoed in your mind, making Ivar pull back slightly to see you better.

“What is it?”

You shook your head slowly, “My worries, that’s all.”

“But what are your worries?”

You heaved a shaky sigh, “Ivar-“

“I wish to put them at ease, tell me.”

“It’s just that-“ You licked your lips, “My brother said something, and I want you- I want to make sure you would not believe him if he spilled his lies into your ear.”

Ivar rolled his eyes, but stayed silent, waiting for you to continue,

“He said that he could lie about-“ Your heart skipped a beat, “About me, about me feigning…”

“What?”

“Feigning being a virgin, when we got married.”

Ivar looked like he was fighting off a laugh but he managed to stay silent, as if waiting for you to continue.

“Oh that’s all he said?” he asked after a couple of seconds of silence when you didn’t say anything else, and you nodded.

“Yes, and it would-“

“Why would that change my affections for you?” Ivar asked, “I mean… Even if it were true?”

“A whisper of it would absolutely ruin anyone’s affections in my culture.”

“We both know your culture is very strange.”

“But Ivar-“ you insisted, “Surely you would not believe him, would you? Because that’s a lie, and I-“

“Of course that’s a lie, Y/N.” Ivar scoffed, “You cannot feign that look of absolute fear, no one can.”

“Absolute fear?”

“That night, back then.”

You were beginning to feel dizzy due to your nerves. Your heart was beating so fast that you were sure any sign of alcohol was cleared off your body, as everything was painfully clear now. You tried to stop the tears before they could make way to your eyes, and fixed your nightgown as Ivar got in the bed.

Alright.

Do not scream, no matter how much it hurts.

Oh God, you wished you had heeded the advice of your ladies-in-waiting, and drank that tea, just in case.

What else had they told you? You tried to remember; drink tea, and focus on something else, and it will be over really fast.

“Are you alright?”

Your head shot up and you nodded, trying to fix your breathing but as soon as Ivar reached out, your body moved on its own accord, your grabbed the furs to pull them to yourself and pulled yourself up towards one of the huge posters of the bed, leaning your back on the wooden poster, breathing so fast that you thought you would actually faint.

You scolded yourself in your head, surely your mother would be quite disappointed if she knew you were acting like this.

Ivar pulled his hand back as if you burned him.

“I will not hurt you,” he raised his hands slightly, without touching you, “You do not need to fear.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded, stealing a look at him before casting your glances down on the furs, biting down on your lip.

Stop being a coward.

“My- my apologies, your majesty.”

“You do not have to call me that.”

You raised your head, pulling your brows together “Your highness.”

Ivar looked almost confused, “Not that either.”

“I’m not very familiar with the proper ways of addressing kings in your culture, I’m afraid.” You mumbled, now wishing you had been informed, this was probably very inappropriate.

“Y/N, I’m pretty sure the… situation allows us to call each other by our first names.”

You stayed silent, your heart slamming against your ribcage.

“I will not touch you, alright? You look like you’re on the verge of tears.”

You shook your head fervently, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I just…I do not know what to do.”

Ivar pressed his lips together, and nodded,

“Okay,” he said silently, “You do not have to do anything.��

“But we’re supposed to consummate our marriage-”

“Says who?”

You blinked dumbly, “….Everyone?”

Ivar raised his brows, “We’re not consummating anything when you look like you’re actually going to die of fear.”

“You still don’t know that I know?” Ivar’s voice pulled you out of the memory and your head shot up,

“Know what?”

“That you were awake that whole night. Crying.”

“You were asleep.”

“No I wasn’t. You held your breath and your whole body tensed up every time I moved, so I just decided not to move at all, that night.”

You gawked up at him, “You were awake too?”

“It is a little hard to sleep when someone is crying next to you,” he stated and you shook your head slightly.

“That was then,” You said slowly, “I’m happy beyond words now.”

Ivar only eyed you up and down, but you had already learned how to pay attention to his smallest gestures, so you tilted your head to the right.

“You do not believe me?”

“Well you did beg your brother not to let him marry us, and I can think of one reason for that.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him in disbelief, “Ivar, surely you’re jesting.”

A bitter smile pulled at his lips and you narrowed your eyes.

“After everything we’ve been through, you still think so little of me?”

“I’m pretty sure marrying a cripple was not in your future plans, Y/N.”

“We’ve been together for months now and you-“ You shook your head, “I do not know what fault I have committed for you to fall under that disillusion, but I did not know you back then. Everyone said everything, a lot of false things to make me scared of you, but your legs had nothing to do with that. Ever.”

“The thought never crossed your mind?”

You looked him in the eye and shook your head again, “Never. And when have I ever lied to you since we have met?”

Ivar’s piercing blue eyes focused on yours, “Never.”

“Never.” You repeated, and stood on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips, “Do not let my brother poison your ears, my beloved. My heart belongs to you, no matter what.”

That seemed to make him smile and you giggled as his arm sneaked around your waist to pull you closer to his body,

“Gods must have sent you as a gift to me,” he muttered “And you dare think my affections could change.”

“Could they not?”

“Oceans would have to catch fire first, little shark.”

“I shall keep an eye on the sea while you’re away on the raid then,” you smiled as he brushed your hair off your face,

“What is this I hear about you knowing how to use a bow?”

You made a face, “Oh no, you spoke to Torvi…”

“Torvi spoke to Ubbe, he told me. Is it true?”

You rolled your eyes, “Bree likes to talk about it. We used to hunt together, all of us, and- and- I’m nowhere near a Viking though. I’m sure I’m not.”

“You should show me sometime.”

“Not possible,” You shook your head fervently, “You’ll make fun!”

“I will not!”

“Yes you will, you already made fun of me because I couldn’t lift a sword-“ You glared up at him as he scoffed a laugh, but turned it into a cough at the last second, “Very funny.”

“It is entertaining, really.”

“Ivar!”

“How about you train Eitr to carry your sword for you?”

“Oh look at you, with your inexplicable humor-“ You started, but stopped talking when someone cleared his throat behind you, making you look over your shoulder.

“My King,” Earl Finnr bowed, “My Queen.”

You gritted your teeth, but managed to smile, “Earl Finnr. You’re back, I see.”

“Yes your majesty, I can barely stay away from your beautiful halls, I’m afraid.”

You shrugged slightly, “One would think you haven’t tried at all.” You said calmly, as Ivar stole a look at you, grinning.

“I haven’t forgotten about our meeting, Earl Finnr.”

“Yes my king, I was hoping I could walk with you.”

You turned to Ivar and rolled your eyes, not bothering to hide your distaste but that didn’t seem to bother him as much as it entertained him. He pressed a kiss on your forehead before muttering a quick goodbye to you, and walked away with him, while you heaved a sigh, your gaze searching the hall. Bjorn and Hvitserk seemed to be in a deep discussion while Gala laughed with another servant, but you flinched when you heard a voice behind you.

“You seem to be in a bad mood.”

You pressed a hand over your chest and looked over your shoulder, “Bree! You scared me.”

“Are you alright?”

You nodded, and turned to look at her better, then pulled your brows together. Her beautiful eyes looked almost too tired and she looked like she was forcing herself to stand straight, feigning cheerfulness.

“Are you alright?” You asked back, “You look tired.”

Bree shrugged slightly, “Of course I’m alright. When have you seen me tired?”

“I have seen you feign not being tired.” You told her, “Is it Edgard? Did he upset you?”

“It’s alright, do not worry.”

“Bree-“

“My love, trust me. There’s nothing to worry about.”

You huffed out and she tried to smile at you, “Let me guess, Ivar is busy?”

“I dislike that Earl.”

“Why?”

“That’s a long story,” You shook your head, “I just- I sometimes wish we were not rulers, is that strange? I know I should not say that, but I want one day that I can spend with him, without any interruptions or anything, just enjoying each other’s company- Bree, are you listening?”

Bree’s glances snapped back to you immediately, “Yes.”

You narrowed your eyes and looked over your shoulder to see where she was looking at, then turned to her with a big smile on your face, and Bree averted her glances only for a moment.

“What? He caught my attention, that’s all.”

“He does not have a lover,” You said, biting down on your lip and Bree shot you a look.

“Don’t.”

“But Bree-“

“Y/N.”

“Bjorn is such a great person!”

“Good for him.”

“And very respectful.”

“Sounds great,” she deadpanned and you bit on your lip, then grabbed her wrist.

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

“I will introduce you to him.”

“You will do no such thing- Y/N!” Bree whispered hastily as you dragged her by the wrist, “Y/N, stop, you cannot possibly-“

“Bjorn!” You called out, gathering both Hvitserk and Bjorn’s attention as you made your way to them, with Bree following you, bowing to the inevitable. “And Hvitserk! Hello, how are you?”

“Oh God…” Bree muttered under her breath and Hvitserk raised his brows.

“We’re good, just talking about the raid. Would you like to join?”

“I would love to, and Bjorn, have you met Bree yet?”

Bree dropped an elegant curtsy, smiling calmly as if she wasn’t just struggling against you, “I’m humbled to meet you, my prince.”

“Bree is the most beautiful lady in our court,” you smiled at Bjorn who looked almost confused, the same expression reflected on his face as Hvitserk, “At least ten poets wrote poems for her and she knows three languages too. And Bjorn is a legendary warrior, Bree, he killed- um- he killed-“

“A bear,” Hvitserk said helpfully, already smirking and you nodded fervently.

“By himself!” You said, “Everyone says he cannot be wounded in battle.”

“Did the bear agree with everyone before you killed it, my prince?”

Bjorn’s confused expression switched into a small smile at Bree’s teasing remark, “I haven’t thought of asking him.”

You suppressed a smile and motioned at Hvitserk, “Would you walk with me?” you asked and walked away from the table with Hvitserk following you quickly.

“Not very subtle, are you?” he asked, and you shrugged.

“Bree can enchant everyone in mere minutes. I do not need to be subtle.”

Hvitserk looked back, then turned to you, “She did not enchant me.”

“Because you’re already in love with your beautiful lover.” You made a face at him, “Your heart is too well guarded to be enchanted, Hvitserk.”

He heaved a sigh, “Where’s Ivar?”

“With Earl Finnr.” You scrunched up your nose, “Is he very irreplaceable, Earl Finnr?”

He shot you a look, “Why?”

“No reason. I was just curious.”

“You’re starting to be very intimidating, did you know that princess?”

You pursed your lips together, smiling at him mischievously, “Good. That’s not a bad thing at all.”

“You don’t think so?”

You pulled your brows together, “Do you think so?”

Hvitserk shrugged, and downed his drink. “Don’t let Ivar taint you,” he mumbled, squeezing your arm before he walked past you to go outside, leaving you there, frowning.

                                          *

“There you go,” you waved the piece of meat in front of Eitr, who moved a little impatiently and stared at you, “You’re very clever, are you not? Hm?”

She cooed as you reached with your other hand to stroke her soft feathers, pressing a kiss on top of them and held up your hand so that she could take the meat. She was very careful in order not to nick your fingers and you giggled, clicking your tongue at her while Bree watched you from the bed.

“So Bjorn had to leave then?”

“He was pulled into a meeting with your husband,” she answered calmly and you stole a look at her.

“And…?”

“And what?”

“What do you think of him?”

Bree’s eyes shone mischievously, “Living with Vikings influenced you badly, where are your manners?”

“Bree-“

“What would your mother say?”

“Something condescending, I’m sure. So?”

Bree licked her lips, trying to hide her smile “He is very nice,”

“And very handsome.”

She raised her brows and you scoffed.

“My heart belongs to Ivar and I think he’s the most handsome. Does not mean I cannot see, though.”

Bree heaved a sigh, “I know what you’re trying to do, Y/N.”

“I’m not hiding it,” You shrugged, “Bree, you deserve to be with someone who makes you happy. My brother does not.”

“Your brother is a king.”

“Bjorn is a prince.”

“I cannot possibly-“ Bree started, but she was cut off as soon as the door slammed open and Gala stepped inside, breathing heavily.

“Gala?” You pulled your hand back from Eitr’s feathers and Gala tried to fix her breathing, leaning her back to the door.

“My apologies, my Queen, I-“ she said shakily and you took a step towards her.

“What happened, what’s wrong?”

“I- I can’t-“ she tried to speak through sobs and you rushed to her to hush her as Bree grabbed a cup and filled it with water.

“Calm down, I’m here,” You said soothingly as she handed her the drink “Drink it, and tell me what happened.”

Gala downed the water in three big gulps and looked at you, her green eyes filled with tears.

“Gala, you’re starting to scare me,” You said, your heart slamming against your ribcage, “What is it?”

She wiped at her eyes, “I- I didn’t mean to- he just…”

“Who?” you cupped her cheek, “Breathe. It’s just me. What happened?”

She swallowed thickly, “One of King Edgard’s men, he tried to-“ she couldn’t finish her sentence but she didn’t need to. You covered your mouth while Bree took a step back, her eyes widening.

“Gala?” It took your every ounce of power to keep your voice calm, “Did he do anything?”

Gala shook her head and you let out a breath, pressing a hand over your chest.

“I pushed him away, and he hit his head, I ran here.”

“Okay, good,” You said soothingly, “Do you know who he was?”

Gala shook her head, “He’s a lord, would King Edgard-“

“King Edgard will not do a thing,” Bree growled and the thought hit you so suddenly that your head spun.

“Nobody will harm you, trust me,” You told her, stroking her hair, “Can you describe him?”

“He has dark hair,” Gala wiped her nose, “With a scar- a scar over his cheek.”

You exchanged glances with Bree, your jaw clenching.

“Lord Tredan.”

Bree shook her head in disgust and you closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the anger crashing down on you.

Tredan couldn’t have done it, not without your brother’s knowledge.

Gala let out a sob and you hushed her, pulling her into your arms so that she could bury her face to your neck, still trembling. You gritted your teeth, stroking her hair as Eitr cooed at the corner of the room, and Bree let out a shaky breath, still staring at you.

“Trust me my sweet,” You muttered while she sniffled, still holding onto you tight, “Nobody hurts you and walks away unharmed. You have my word.”

                                            *

Ivar’s meeting with the Earls took his whole day, but you couldn’t really focus on that. It was as if fury had taken all your attention as you walked through the hall leading to the Great Hall, with Eitr flying behind you and Gala by your side.

“You do not have to be present.” You told her before you walked into the Great Hall and she shook her head.

“I wish to be.”

“But know that you’re welcome to leave any time you want. For as long as you wish.”

Gala offered you a small smile before both of you walked into the Great Hall. Ivar, who was leaning back against the table turned his head as soon as people started looking, and you smiled at him, making your way to him and his brothers.

“Good evening,”

“Hello there,” Ivar pulled you closer to himself, “Where have you been? I was about to come and get you.”

You shook your head “I was quite busy,” You said as Hvitserk averted his eyes from you and Ivar, while Bjorn shifted his weight.

“Why is Eitr here?” Ubbe asked as Eitr flew by him and you shrugged.

“I’m getting her used to following me.” You muttered, your eyes falling on Bree who was staying unusually away from your brother. Edgard nodded at you which you ignored, and tried to contain the giggle as Ivar pressed a kiss on your neck.

“What of your Earls?”

“They were boring,” Ivar shrugged, “But I did tell them of your idea.”

“Oh, what did they think?”

“They have some arguments against it,” Ivar muttered to your neck and you fidgeted against his grip slightly, your eyes searching the crowd to find Tredan while Hvitserk downed his drink, and went to get another one, and Ubbe rolled his eyes at you two, turning to say something to Bjorn in their language.

“Y/N?” Ivar’s voice snapped you out of your haze, “What is it?”

“Hm?”

“I know that look. What happened while I was busy?”

You forced yourself to keep your expression still, “Nothing for you to worry about my beloved, I’m handling it.”

Ivar’s eyes narrowed, “Who upset you?”

“Oh you’ll see soon.”

“Y/N-“

“Tredan!” You called out, gathering his attention and motioned at him, “Your presence is required.”

Ivar frowned slightly while Tredan looked around, and made his way to you.

“Your majesty,” he bowed, “King Ivar. My princes.”

Ivar stayed silent, as if trying to figure out what you were thinking and you squinted your eyes. Hvitserk approached you again, Ubbe raised his brows and Bjorn crossed his arms silently, focused on Tredan.

“Lord Tredan,” You said, “How is your head?”

He touched the back of his head slightly, “Kattegat’s servants prove to have more fire than our court’s servants, your majesty.”

Ivar looked between you, and you gritted your teeth,

“I see. And how do you find Kattegat?”

“It is very unfamiliar your majesty,” he grinned, “But I do like the view of it.I shall miss it when I go back.”

You tried to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth, “You shall miss it when you go back,” You repeated, “Well, perhaps the memory will never leave you, who knows?”

His smile faded slightly as Ivar tilted his head, keeping his eyes on him while you nodded at him, excusing him to leave and Tredan bowed at you, then walked back to get a cup of ale. Ivar turned to you.

“Anything you want to tell me?”

You shook your head.

“Should I kill him?”

You let out a small laugh, “No,” you said before you softly said Eitr’s name, but she seemed to hear it and flew back to you. The wind of her wings moved your hair a little before she landed on your arm, looking back at you.

“And can you touch her?” Bjorn asked Ivar, motioning at Eitr and he shrugged slightly.

“She lets me when Y/N is not mad at me.”

“That’s not true at all.” You said, and Ivar scoffed.

“One time, she almost attacked me.”

Bjorn frowned slightly, “Y/N?”

“Not me, Eitr!” You corrected Bjorn “And she didn’t know you well, back then.”

“Doesn’t she want to go out?”

“She can go out whenever she wants to.”

“Can she though?” Ivar asked, “Last night you told her no because it was too cold outside.”

“But it was too cold outside.”

“She’s a falcon.”

“I don’t want her to get cold or sick, Ivar-“

“Oh please wait a while to have heirs,” Ubbe stated, “Something tells me you will have so many disagreements like this.”

You could feel your cheeks burning as Hvitserk downed his drink again, but you tried to focus on your plan and trailed a hand in front of Eitr, catching her attention almost immediately as you took a step and she flapped her wings so that she could stay in the air, still looking down at you.

“You know, I’ll almost believe it.” Hvitserk commented and you looked up at Eitr, still trailing a hand in the air as she followed it,

“Hm?”

“I’ll almost believe you have the gift of enchantment.”

“Freyja favours her.”

“I do not have the gift of enchantment.” You mumbled, moving your hand very, very slowly to see if Eitr was still following, “I’m just clever, there’s a difference.”

By now, almost every Viking in the hall had fallen silent, gawking at you as Eitr glided in the air, still following your hand movements, it almost felt like a dance. You took a small step, then held your hand still in the air, Eitr only flapping her wings where she was, not moving left or right as you stole a look over your shoulder.

“Hvitserk?”

“Yeah?”

“Get out of the way.” You said before you raised your hand, then whipped your arm to point at Tredan.

It didn’t even take a second. In a flash, Eitr had already dived over his face and a scream of pain reached your ears before you could even turn around to look at him. He tried to push her off of his face but it was no use and Edgard stared at you while Bree covered her mouth, and Tredan fell on his knees, letting out another scream as he tried to cover his face from Eitr’s sharp beak and claws.

The whispers filled the hall as everyone stared at Eitr who looked like she would not stop until she got to every inch of Tredan’s face, ripping at it, making him crawl on the floor.

“Eitr.” You called out and she came back to land on your arm in mere seconds.

Nobody moved, or said anything in the hall, especially the Vikings. Even though Edgard looked like he wanted to say something as he opened his mouth, one of his men stopped him before he had a chance. You dragged your tongue over your bottom lip as Tredan still covered his bloodied face with his hands, moaning in pain, but even so, you could see how much Eitr had bitten off. You felt your stomach doing a flip, but leaned in slightly, the fury still running through you.

“There,” You smiled softly, “Now the memory of Kattegat shall never leave you.”

Eitr cooed on your arm and you turned around to smile at Gala, then made your way to Ivar and his brothers.

“Let’s drink something,” You snuggled closer to Ivar who grinned down at you, welcoming you into his open arms, and kissing your forehead while Hvitserk stared at you, “I wish to celebrate.”

  Special thanks to: @nympha-door-a @theskytraveler @iblogabout-stuff @mamaraptor @vikrone @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @asongofmarvelanddc @not--even-a-real--fan @alicedopey @thorohdamnson @captstefanbrandt @flowers-in-your-hayr @marauderskeeper @badbitsh13 @superwolfchild-fan @mblaqgi @thescarsweleave @marvelsvalhalla @natalielbeauty @pandalandalopalis @alyssiamarierenee @bloodyivar  , @eleanorsparkz    @illumminated @itsjoshebelbitch @vikingalexthedane @hangirl93 @mersers-moonypadfoot-prongs @skadithegoddess   @geekandbooknerd @katalina-from-hellbound @too-stressed-to-live@supercarricat @sky-daybreak @athroatfullofglass @blushingskywalker @little-froggy @girlwhoisfearless @aikeji @part-time-patronus @actuallyazriel   and lovely anons! You are amazing! <3