#cfwc

[tessa-liam]

W.I.P. Wednesday

for King Liam Appreciation Week, November 17 - 21

and Marabelle Series, Chapter 20

...here is a sneak peak of the commission I won from @indiacater!🥹 Thank you, again, ...so much! for this gift!😍❣️🌹

I was going to wait until November to share this....but I can't wait an entire month to share ... here is a snippet! 🤷‍♀️ 😉

The Royal Romance, King Liam Rys x Sophie Taylor

@pilitella, you are such a gifted artist!✨️

Thank you for bringing my fantasy 'to life'....this is an incredible gift!🌹

😁the full reveal in November!

[kristinamae093]

Ghosted

Ghosted — Betrayal (Chapter Twelve)

Series Summary - Prince Liam fell for Riley Brooks hard and fast. A marriage filled with love and devotion was within his reach, but everything changed when she vanished just before the end of the social season. As everyone voices their concerns regarding her scandalous departure, a confession from an unlikely source turns Liam's world upside down and makes him question everything around him.

Book/Pairing - TRR - Liam x f!MC (Riley Brooks)

A/N 1 - This AU starts right before the beginning of the engagement tour. There is a two-month lapse between the coronation and where we pick up, but we will stray from canon. Please excuse any errors found. Not beta'd.

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

Tags - @choicesficwriterscreations

It's another long one 😬👉👈🥹. Oops.

Liam and Drake closely followed as the guards led Bastien into the depths of the Portavirian estate. The halls remained eerily quiet as the nobility slept; not a soul to be found other than those involved with Penelope’s homicide investigation. Neither male spoke a word, but both reeled in this blindsiding revelation.

The betrayal Liam felt was like no other. Bastien was like a father to him, always around when he needed someone, but now he wondered if he ever knew him. Bastien saw him at his lowest and protected him at all costs, but somewhere along the way he changed; he couldn’t determine when that shift happened or if his guard was that good of a deceiver from the start, and felt like a fool for not seeing his insubordination sooner. It didn’t matter what he said, nor how much he pleaded; Liam already knew he was guilty, but didn’t know the extent of his involvement.

So many unanswered questions ran rampant through his mind, but ultimately the one he cared about was, where is Riley? The scandal was no longer relevant; all that mattered was finding her and ensuring she was safe. Justice would be served to all who deserved it later but right now, she was the top priority. That wasn’t a new revelation, but the urgency suddenly skyrocketed.

Liam did his best to stay afloat, but couldn’t stop his mind from wandering. If Riley was still in the country, what did that mean? Was she being held hostage somewhere? Would a ransom note appear at some point? Is she even alive? The continuous spiral intensified and formed a vortex of frustration and confusion, enveloping him from the inside out. He wanted to scream and cry to the heavens, anything to relieve some of the never-ending tension slowly constricting his muscles. Every second that passed without knowing she was safe, he grew weaker, feeling control slip right through his fingertips. The never-ending vat of unanswered questions took their physical and mental toll on Liam as a monarch and man alike.

However, every ounce of strength that remained pushed him forward. The adrenaline coursing through his veins mindlessly carried him, as he and Drake walked in deafening silence.

They continued until they entered a dark room with a table and two chairs. The guards sat Bastien down on one side and secured shackles in place over his wrists, much to his displeasure. Liam took the seat that mirrored his, shooing the bystanders out as he did. Drake lingered close by, reeling in his feelings of hurt, betrayal, and anger. Bastien quieted, but his entire body went rigid after his former subordinates exited the room. Liam placed his hands on the table and stared at them for a long while, trying to slow the wild rush inside his mind.

He finally raised his head and spoke to Bastien in the flattest, calmest tone he could muster. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“I don’t, sir.”

“First, let’s talk about Penelope. You and I both know she did not take her own life, so I’m curious to know how you came to that conclusion.”

Bastien furrowed his brow. “Not to be forward, but she was literally hanging from the ceiling… We found a note in her room, and she had every reason to want to do it — considering she was about to be arrested.”

“Right… Speaking of that… I want to see that report again.”

“Pardon?”

“The report — the one that says Penelope’s DNA was all over the murder weapon because honestly, I think you’re full of shit.” Liam hissed.

“I most certainly am not, sir. The documents are in the security office. If you remove these cuffs, I will gladly retrieve them.” Bastien confidently responded.

“That won’t be necessary.” Liam knew if he told the truth, Olivia would find them and if she didn’t, Bastien just caught himself in another lie. “Now, the next order of business — where were you the night of the jamboree? I don’t remember seeing you at all.”

Bastien stiffened. “I was doing security checks around the estate—”

“If you were doing security checks, how’d a rogue photographer make it in?” Drake interjected.

Bastien swallowed thickly, his gulp echoing in the silence. “... What?”

“You heard what he said — answer the damn question.” Liam snapped.

“She must have—”

“She?” Liam interrupted with a chortle. “That’s funny — because I never mentioned gender. Do you know something that I don’t?”

“I only took a guess — there was a fifty percent chance I would be correct.” Bastien calmly, yet firmly, answered with a dismissive shrug. “I’m not precisely sure how they breached the perimeter, but we’ve been working to strengthen our units ever since.”

“Right…” Liam nodded and forcefully clenched his jaw. It took every ounce of his restraint not to reach across the table and wrap his hands around Bastien’s throat because he couldn’t trust a single word coming out of his mouth.

Drake spoke again before Liam could act on his intrusive thoughts. “What about the Apple Banquet? Where were you then?”

“I was with His Majesty while he spoke to the Beaumonts. Someone alerted me to the body, and I immediately sprung into the proper protocol.”

“No, not when the maid was found — earlier. Where were you before that?” Liam demanded.

Bastien hesitated, but quickly fixed his features. “I was addressing an issue regarding Countess Madeleine’s security arrangements. Her old guard needed to take personal leave, so I had to find a suitable replacement.”

“... And she will vouch for you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Liam’s frustration skyrocketed, as he didn’t know how to take that statement. The number of people he could trust seemed to only shorten by the day, yet Madeleine was never present, nor even an honorable mention on that list; the time to trust her word was not amid this chaos.

“Okay, then—” Liam started again, his agitation noticeably rising. “Do you know where Riley is?”

“I don’t, sir. All I know is she returned to New York, and—”

“How did you come to that conclusion, exactly? Because I’ve done some digging and found nothing to point to that. There are no traces of her after she left the jamboree whatsoever, Bastien; not flights, not vehicles — nothing.”

Bastien shifted in his seat. “My information led me to that conclusion, Your Majesty.”

“Well, your information was wrong, and I can’t help but feel you knew that all along, didn’t you?”

“I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, but—”

“You knew she didn’t return to New York because you took her away, right? Is that how she made it out undetected? Or are you the one who assaulted her?” Liam thought back to his out-of-body experience and remembered the shadow lingering in front of her door. “Or did you stand guard while it happened? Is that it?”

“I did no such thing.” Bastien hastily replied, but cleared his throat and added, “What would I gain from any of this? Why would I give a damn who you choose?”

“That’s kind of what I’m wondering.” Drake inserted with a skeptical eye. “Look, Bas — I don’t want to believe you had a hand in all this, but it’s not looking good, man.”

“What doesn’t look good?” Bastien returned. “All I’ve done is look for her! I’ve been trying to help you!”

“Bullshit,” Liam seethed. “You know something and I demand you tell me — right now.”

“I know nothing, sir. I’ve kept you updated on every piece of information uncovered.”

“You need to understand something —” Liam's breaths turned heavy and his face flushed every shade of crimson. “I am not fucking around. This is your final opportunity — if you know something and do not tell me, I will serve your head on a silver fucking platter at the next state function. Is that clear enough for you?” He rumbled through clenched teeth. The hand he raised to point at Bastien visibly trembled, as the dam broke and rage flowed freely through his body.

Bastien’s eyes widened, and he visibly swallowed. He quickly composed himself and softly answered, “I understand the circumstances have been — tense — for everyone involved. You’ve had a rough couple of weeks, and —”

Liam slammed his fist onto the table and shot up from his seat. “Do NOT fucking patronize me!” He bellowed.

The door suddenly swung open and Olivia marched inside. In her hands, she carried a folder along with a few smaller items, but her facial expression was the picture-perfect image of unrestrained fury. “You have a lot of explaining to do.” She rumbled as she bore her eyes into Bastien.

Never could she have imagined the man sitting before her would betray them in such a way, but now they had proof; undeniable, unavoidable, but yet — incredibly unsettling evidence.

Bastien audibly gulped as he recognized the documents and all traces of pigment in his complexion vanished. With so much going on, he didn’t have the chance to dispose of everything properly. Liam and his group of friends moved faster than anticipated, and with their unexpected changes to the tour, he fell behind. The important information was extracted long ago, but what remained was still very incriminating — for Bastien.

Powerful forces expected him to pull off the impossible, but he was only one person — how was he supposed to fend off four people, plus a hired professional? Multiple ends that should’ve received immediate attention didn’t. Penelope ranked fairly high on that list, but his concerns got cast aside. His instructions were to deflect, deter, and stay silent regarding the madness; trust the process and your reward will be bountiful, they would say. Regardless, he didn’t want to aid in this crazy scheme, but had no choice — they knew information about his past nobody should have uncovered, so he found himself backed into a corner.

But as Bastien stared at the evidence of his transgressions, he realized silence would no longer be an option. He knew one way or another at that moment he was as good as dead; the question was would it be at the hands of his seething monarch, the man he practically raised, or the people who made his life a living hell to begin with?

Olivia rifled through the things on the table until she found what she searched for. “Remember when Bastien told you he disposed of Riley’s phone and her note?” She held both items up to show everyone along with her letter, noting how the guard immediately tucked his chin into his chest. “The penmanship matches mine, meaning it’s the same as Penelope’s.”

Liam forcefully clenched his jaw. “You lied to me?”

“That’s not all,” Olivia continued. “Bastien told us Penelope is the one who killed the maid, but that’s not true. Sure, the gum was hers — hair too — but the funny thing is that as it turns out, there are two sets of results on that knife.”

“There’s not—”

Olivia cackled, cutting Bastien off. “Don’t even try to lie. I’m holding what appears to be the real results in my hands. What kind of moron keeps the original if he’s planning on cloning it to frame someone else? Fucking nitwit.” She shook her head, distaste lacing her words. “Of course, we’ll have these confirmed for legitimacy, but considering who this one lists as the culprit, I can see why you’d want to cover this up.”

Liam snatched the documents from her and scanned them. His eyes widened as he went through the text, his jaw falling further and further the longer he read. Penelope's fingerprints were on the murder weapon, but unlike the last report he saw, this one went more in-depth. Her DNA might've been on the knife, but only one or two barely distinguishable smears on the blade itself belonged to her. However, the lab noted prominent traces from someone else located everywhere, but mostly on the handle, indicating that their person of interest should be whoever the second set of prints belonged to.

But Liam never received this report, and when he read who the database found as the owner of that second set of prints, he realized why he wasn’t shown.

“It was you…” Liam gasped, finally tearing his attention off the file to center his glare on Bastien. “Why?”

Bastien remained silent. He kept his gaze locked on the table, but the sweat forming on his brow wasn’t unnoticed.

“We know why, Liam. He was trying to shut her up because she spoke with us. And that’s why he offed Penelope too — right, Bastien?” Olivia answered. “Dispose of the loose ends before they can out you?”

“I did not harm Lady Penelope in any way,” Bastien stated with utmost determination, looking directly into Olivia’s steely eyes as he did.

“But you know who did, and you were working to bury that too, correct?” She quickly retorted, arching her brow.

Bastien clenched his jaw and looked away, refusing to speak, but he didn’t need to — Olivia knew she was right.

“You can deny those accusations all you want, but the next ones will be fairly difficult to talk yourself out of,” Olivia snapped as she produced another file and showed it to everyone.

“Operation Ghost?” That title caught Liam’s attention, and his mouth fell agape when he read it. He flipped through the papers inside and realized this was a meticulously planned mission, not a coincidence. While he spiraled deeper into the abyss, further away from reality, intentional carnage ran rampant within his court, and it was all a part of the elaborate plan from the beginning.

Someone plotted to hurt Riley and take her away from him, and that thought momentarily left him breathless.

“Apparently so,” Olivia answered, remorse cracking through her stony features upon seeing Liam’s broken shock. She’d already searched the file and knew what lay ahead, but didn’t know how he would react; it wouldn’t be good regardless. “Someone altered or destroyed most of this —” She paused to throw a death glare at Bastien. “But… There’s something else…”

“What is it?” Drake inquired as he and Liam took in her hesitancy, causing the hair on the nape of their necks to stand at attention.

With a heavy sigh, Olivia opened an envelope and produced a few smaller documents. She slammed them down on the table one at a time, directly in Bastien’s downward cast line of vision. “Here’s Riley’s ID, her passport, and even her goddamn credit cards. Now tell me, Bastien — how did you think she got to New York without those?”

Liam snapped his head over to her. “What?!” He snatched the items off the table and stared at the photo on Riley’s passport in his trembling hands, his heart rate taking flight.

His worst fears suddenly became reality, because he knew it would’ve been impossible for her to get out of the country without identification. This confirmed that Ray was right; she never left Cordonia. Of everything he suspected of Bastien, the things he knew and worked to cover up completely blindsided Liam. It hurt him in a way he didn’t know was possible, to be betrayed by someone he put every single ounce of his trust in.

Plus, had it not been for Olivia and Ray, he probably would have gotten away with it, too. The thought alone created a forceful swarm of guilt as Liam realized once again — this was what he ignored for so long. His breaths turned shallow as his mind took this new information and ran with it, automatically assuming the worst and with no signs to point in a different direction, he couldn’t find any strings of hope no matter which way he looked.

The waves came crashing down, sending him into an instant spiral of equal parts devastation and fear. He swayed on his feet, but eventually lowered himself back into his chair, willing the wild rush to slow.

“What the fuck is this?!” Drake exclaimed, smoke nearly barreling out of his ears. “Where is she?!”

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit! She couldn’t leave without this! You’ve been lying to us all along!”

“I did what I had to,” Bastien returned, his voice devoid of all emotion. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“What did you do to her, Bastien?!” Olivia reiterated. “You can’t deny you know something — if she’s in danger, you need to tell us so we can find her!”

“I did nothing to her! All I did was escort her from the premises to the airport — that’s it.” Bastien huffed, immediately regretting the slip-up, which earned him a unanimous gasp.

“What did you just say?” Liam rumbled with clenched fists, his daze of self-hatred shattering on the spot.

Bastien hesitated but realized it was useless to redact. “I said I escorted her from the premises—”

Liam lunged for him without a second thought. He slammed his face into the table and held him there with all his might by the back of his skull. “So you not only knew, but you fucking helped too?!”

“I did what I had—”

“You son of a bitch!” Liam yelled as he lifted Bastien’s head, only to bounce his cheek against the table with increased force. “I trusted you!”

Bastien tried to respond, but Liam swiftly continued. “You have manipulated and made a fool of me for the LAST fucking time! I told you what I’d do, yet you still lied to me? YOUR MONARCH?!”

Again, Bastien attempted to speak, but Liam wasn’t quite finished. “This WHOLE TIME… You’ve known — you fucking helped — but you continuously led me astray.”

“Sir—”

“YOU DO NOT SPEAK OVER ME!” Liam bellowed, slamming Bastien’s head a third time.

A long silence passed as Liam securely held Bastien by the back of his neck, using more force with every passing second. He saw nothing but blood — everything that would’ve gotten covered up ran through his mind; the murders, Riley, and what seemed to be a never-ending list of other possibilities.

Finally, Bastien timidly sliced through the tension. “Sir, I’m willing to tell you what I know and what I’ve done in exchange for safety. If you do not ensure my life, I will be dead within hours.” He pleaded, preparing to meet the table again. “You have no reason to trust me now, but I will tell you what I can…” He emphasized.

Liam met eyes with Olivia and Drake, a silent conversation taking place. In all honesty, nobody cared what happened to him after the fact; all that mattered right now was getting Bastien to talk by any means necessary. Whoever wanted him dead was more than welcome to finish the job, but not until after he confessed.

Liam released him with a shove but never said a word. Instead, he strode back to the chair across from Bastien and slowly retook his seat. When Liam lifted his head, the pure fury staring back at him slightly took Bastien aback. The patient presence he’d grown accustomed to was long gone, replaced by a man driven to the brink of insanity. Those typically bright baby blues were now dark, vicious, and wild — nearly animalistic as his stare tore through Bastien. It sent a shiver of dread down his spine and made him momentarily fearful of his usually calm and composed king. His head throbbed, but he knew that would not be the worst of what he received — regardless of whose hands he suffered from.

Liam intently held his gaze for a long moment, clenching and unclenching his jaw, but finally spoke in an eerily calm voice. “... Tell us.”

Bastien strode through the country jamboree with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he recalled what would happen tonight. A suitor would be removed from the competition, with or without her cooperation. The trap was loaded and ready to go; all they needed was the prey — Riley.

Bastien located Penelope in the crowd and watched her approach Riley. She was deep into a conversation with Maxwell, but Penelope slipped in and played the part surprisingly well. He recognized her shaky hands even from afar, but she discreetly slipped at least half of the pharmaceuticals into Riley’s drink, unbeknownst to her or Maxwell. He didn’t think that part was necessary, but the force beyond insisted it was essential so they would force her to her room before everyone else.

After a time, Bastien observed as Riley hugged Maxwell and headed toward the estate. He quietly followed behind in the shadows as she walked through the deserted halls to her room, cursing the creaky floorboards underneath his feet, but the woman he trailed didn’t notice a thing. Riley skipped, hummed a tune, and even did a little twirl; she had no cares in the world and had no clue that her perception of a fairy tale was about to be shattered.

As her door shut, Bastien took position outside, crossed his arms, and waited for the job to be completed. Everyone else remained at the party outside; it was his assignment to ensure the vicinity stayed clear. He knew who occupied the room neighboring hers, which only fueled the need to get this done and over with as quickly and smoothly as possible.

People spoke behind the door — the voices escalating by the second — but Bastien made it a point to drown them out. The situation could go one of two ways, depending on Riley's cooperation, and it didn't take long for him to realize she chose the hard way. Although he found it difficult to ignore her pleas for help, his allegiance aligned elsewhere.

After a time, a few gentlemen approached but Bastien allowed them access, as he expected them. He didn’t know who they were, just that they would deal with ‘relocating’ Tariq; his task was Riley. One had jet-black hair, while the other donned a baseball cap. They wore a matching dark ensemble, aside from the hat and one having thick, circular lens glasses. A holster of weapons surrounded their belts, making the hair on his arms stiffen. The pair went inside without a word, but Bastien felt their eyes on him as they entered.

The deafening silence hung for what felt like centuries, but eventually, they re-emerged with their cargo in tow.

“Unhand me this instant!” Tariq demanded as the muscles dragged him away.

“Not a chance, fancy boy.” The man with glasses snickered. “Got a special place for you.”

“I did what I was supposed to do!” Tariq pleaded, his tone changing once he realized the seriousness of his situation. “Please — have some compassion!”

“No can do. Boss’s orders were strict — toss you in a hole and throw those God-awful loafers into the ocean.” The dark-haired male snapped his fingers before adding, “I can leave the shoes on if you’d prefer — put some cement in them and send you both on a journey to the bottom of the Mediterranean.” His delight showed brightly, causing Bastien’s pulse rate to skyrocket.

Tariq suddenly planted his feet firmly on the ground. “DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?! OR WHO MY FATHER IS?” He bellowed. “You won’t get away with this — I WILL ENSURE THAT YOU—”

Out of nowhere, the male with the ball cap hit him with the butt of his pistol, silencing his tirade. Tariq slumped to the floor with his eyes rolled back, blood gushing from his nose in an instant.

“Thank you, Claudius. I couldn’t stomach another second of his useless ranting.”

“You and I both.”

“Get him loaded up — we’re on a schedule and need to move.” Claudius hefted Tariq on his shoulder with ease and quickly left out the servants’ exit. As he disappeared, the remaining man shifted his attention to Bastien. “So… You’re prepared to handle the fallout?”

“Of course.” He confidently responded.

“Are you sure? Because I don't think you understand how messy this situation could get in the future… And honestly? If the boss hadn’t enlisted little Miss Penny, this entire operation would’ve crashed and burned before it even took off.” He rolled his eyes. “You thought she would agree to this just for a spot beside the queen?”

“It might surprise you what people will do to get ahead around here.”

“Yes, but they’re willing to execute better with a little — added motivation.” He flashed a wide, sinister smile. “You should know better than anyone…”

Bastien swallowed thickly, his entire body going rigid. “I’m not sure what you’re referencing.”

“Of course not.” He snickered. “I don’t blame you — I wouldn’t want anyone to know you’re the one who mur—”

Bastien held a hand up. “That’s enough.” He spat out.

The male’s smile widened. “As I said, people execute better with added motivation.” He patted Bastien’s shoulder with a little too much force.

“Was there a point to this?” Bastien rumbled through clenched teeth, shaking off the man’s palm.

“I just wanted to make sure it’s one hundred percent clear — you need to ensure anything regarding this stays buried. If too many people ask the right questions before we reach the finish line and the boss has to get involved again… Well —” He grinned, baring his teeth. “That’d just be a shame, wouldn’t it?”

A chill shot down the length of Bastien’s spine. “What is that supposed to mean? Are you threatening me?”

“You may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but you’re not that stupid — you know what will happen.” He responded, amusement written on his cold features. His almond eyes deepened to black, leaving Bastien momentarily speechless.

“I’m certain that won’t be necessary.” Bastien confidently answered after he regained his composure. His companion nodded with an eerie smirk but casually lingered around the door. “Is there something else I can do for you?”

“I was just wondering about Lady Riley… Where you’re planning on sending her since you received the — opportunity to handle her?” He nonchalantly inquired, acting as disinterested as possible. “Such a great honor you have… One I practically begged for.”

“The States, where she came from.” Bastien’s direction was to ship her back to New York as discreetly as possible. Even though the plan took a drastic turn, that was the one constant that couldn't change because otherwise, they would out themselves for taking the reins and disobeying a direct order. She would land on her feet, start a new life, and forget all about Cordonia. Liam would surely want to search for her, but all Bastien had to do was stall until the coronation, when their cover for removing Riley would come to light.

“I see, I see… Well, hopefully, that works out for her.” He smiled, the sight raising goosebumps on Bastien’s arms.

Before Bastien could respond, the door creaked open, and a hooded presence strode out. He paid Bastien no mind, instead focusing on the dark-haired male. “Let us vacate. The party is nearly over, and we have tremendous amounts of work ahead of us if we want to pull this off.”

“What about the court? We can’t go back to —”

“Do not fret, Anton… We have a plan… Trust the process; this is only the beginning. Everything will work out as it should in due time, but we must move — now.”

The pair quickly walked away, but not before Bastien heard Anton loudly whisper, “About that — pit-stop…” to his companion.

Bastien momentarily pondered that statement, but shook off the queasiness inside his stomach, concluding they must be referring to Tariq. As he stared at Riley’s door, a brief flicker of guilt traveled through him. Riley did nothing wrong, and he knew that, but this is the task he regretfully accepted. It was not a personal vendetta, by any means, but this clueless woman aimlessly landed herself in the middle of the nobility; she didn’t understand the untold, dark side of the court and its inhabitants, but would learn on this day.

Bastien cautiously opened the door and entered to find Riley on the edge of her bed, cradling her side. She snapped her head over to him as she heard his footsteps, and her eyes filled to the brim with tears when she met his gaze. He once again fought a wave of remorse at seeing her hopeful expression, knowing he was not the knight in shining armor she assumed he was.

“Bastien, you—you have to help me… Please…” Riley croaked. Her words came out slightly slurred, although it surprised him that the earlier sedatives hadn’t taken a harder effect.

“I’m going to, Lady Riley. First, I need to ensure you’re not carrying anything on you.”

Bastien assisted Riley to a standing position, which she slowly did without question. He didn’t know exactly what transpired, but she had a gash on her side, blood soaking through the thin hoodie she wore. With her permission, he checked the wounds, none of which were bad enough to seek immediate medical attention. Her face was littered with cuts, surely bruises to follow with time, as one of her cheeks was already tinted with a light purple. He started at her shoulders and patted down to her abdomen, but stopped when he felt something in her pocket and pulled out her phone. He nonchalantly slipped the device into his jacket, but despite his best efforts, Riley watched him do it.

“That is my property! You can’t take that!” She protested.

“I’m afraid I can… You are to leave completely empty-handed. Now, we have to get going — you have a flight to catch.” Bastien placed a hand on Riley’s arm to lead her away.

Riley firmly planted her feet in place, shaking away his grip. “Don’t do this, Bastien!”

“You have no choice in this matter and we’re on a time limit,” Bastien replied as he checked his watch.

“What about all my stuff?”

“As I said, empty-handed.” He didn’t understand that part either, but concluded it was easier to shove her on a plane with no items to accompany her.

“On whose authority?!” Riley exclaimed. When he didn’t answer, she reiterated, “Who told you to do this to me, Bastien?!”

“That is confidential information.”

Riley snorted, her frustration written all over her face. “Bullshit! At least be man enough to tell me!”

“Fine. You want to know who did it?” He held her glare, letting the tension linger, but finally answered, “It was Liam.”

Riley stepped away as if she took a blow to the gut, but her devastation quickly morphed into the polar opposite.

Riley laughed; hard enough that tears spilled down her cheeks. “You expect me to believe that? Liam? Of all people?” She shook her head, slightly bouncing from her chuckles. “You think I’m that naïve and stupid?”

“Believe what you will, that matters not to me but my instructions were simple, so we must get moving.” He stated, very matter-of-factly.

“Bastien,” Riley pleaded, any signs of amusement suddenly disappearing. “Don’t do this. I’ll just — I don’t know!” She cried, anxiety prominent in her features. “I won’t say anything to anyone — I swear on my grandmother’s life! Or–or we can tell Liam! Whatever got you wrapped up in this, he will understand.” She reasoned. “Please — you don’t have to conform. We can find a way out of this together.”

Bastien considered it for a second, but ultimately gave Riley a sad smile and nudged her toward the door. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, but he remained firm. He quickly dropped her phone and the pre-written note he received inside her bedside table and went to the threshold, stepping over shards of glass from a broken planter and a bloodied garment.

Leaving her phone there meant it would be an immediate dead end for Liam and her sponsors. He would want to call her — possibly track her — but this ensured that door was closed before it could even be opened. It was a distraction tactic to keep the prince occupied until his reason for her departure would present itself to him, where hopefully, he would drop the matter for good.

Bastien held her stare for a moment before he cleared his throat, emphasizing the need to move. Riley hung her head and eventually slowly walked out the door, quietly sobbing as she did.

Bastien led her down the long hallway toward the servants’ exit, as their SUV waited close by. Riley was incredibly unsteady on her feet, whether it was from the earlier medication or her injuries, he wasn’t sure, but he held his hand out to steady her wobbly steps on multiple occasions. He glanced back and locked eyes with the maid he summoned to clean the area, and even with his dark sunglasses, he still spotted her apprehension. The interaction was brief as he and Riley reached the end of the hallway, but something in his gut said he would have to deal with that later.

Assisting Riley down the stairs turned out to be tricky, as she was in an incredible amount of pain. By the end, he hoisted her over his shoulder and carried her the rest of the way down. She didn’t yell or scream, not that it would have mattered if she tried; the party still ‘raged’ in the opposite direction, leaving the vicinity barren of wandering ears. If she got combative he had a plan for that as well, but was glad she opted to cooperate, instead of throwing a tantrum and meeting a fate similar to Tariq.

He sat her on her feet when they emerged outside and escorted her to the vehicle, quickly securing her inside. He used no restraints, but she didn’t resist one bit; almost as if she’d accepted her fate, or her body just didn’t have the strength to fight back. There were no remnants of Tariq or anyone else, but Bastien moved with fire under his feet as if someone lurked right around the corner.

Within the blink of an eye, they were at the airport, where Bastien unloaded her from the back of the car. The entire ride he heard Riley’s sniffles from the backseat, but he drove faster — to unload this package and hopefully, this would be a straightforward operation. Once she was out of the vehicle his job should be done, unless too many questions arose.

Bastien parked toward the back of the abandoned parking lot so the only thing on security footage would be Riley entering the airport. With his connections, he knew exactly where the cameras were and discreetly slipped into a blind spot. Riley could hardly stand as he pulled her from the vehicle, but that was not his concern.

He did his part — all she had to do was walk inside and leave Cordonia forever.

He shoved a small envelope into her hands and said, “Here is your ID, passport, credit cards, and a ticket to New York. It’s been a pleasure, Lady Riley.” And with that, Bastien turned on his heel and returned to his vehicle, speeding away before he could second guess his decision.

He glanced back in the rearview mirror and saw the silhouette of a woman standing there disoriented, wounded, alone, terrified, and defenseless, but quickly averted his gaze, centering on the road. He nearly pushed his foot through the floorboard to get away faster, but bile rose into the back of his throat as a chilling realization sat in; he didn’t know how, but this was far from over, and the chances of him making it to see his next birthday just substantially dwindled.

“I assumed she boarded the plane, but I later received her identification and credit cards in a sealed envelope from an unidentifiable source. I tried to help her… I really did…” Bastien finished with his head bowed.

“No, you sure as shit did not!” Drake bellowed, a mix of fury and shock written on his features. “I can’t believe you!”

Bastien flinched. “I did what I had to do—”

“Where is she, then? Because she never got on that fucking plane, Bastien!” Olivia hollered.

“I don’t know! I told you everything I know about it! I tried to find out, but I can’t!”

“This is fucking unreal.” Drake shook his head and scoffed. “You expect me to believe you really don’t know? You have her ID! Her goddamn passport!”

Bastien forcefully clenched his jaw. “I received them before the tour in a sealed envelope. I don’t know where it came from and I can't trace its origin.”

Drake scowled. “We’re supposed to believe that?” He looked away and rubbed a hand down his face, his frustration steadily rising. “Let’s say I do — you chose to keep that to yourself? You didn’t think that was worth mentioning when we opened an investigation into her goddamned disappearance?!” He over-enunciated, sarcasm dripping off every syllable.

“What was I supposed to do, Drake?!” Bastien responded, but couldn’t fathom meeting his eyes for even a brief second.

“Not be a spineless piece of shit, for one,” Olivia answered. “For two, you could’ve refused to cooperate from the beginning. Or, told the truth, regardless of what would’ve happened to you then… Or, made sure she got on the plane, at least. You drugged her and left her for dead, Bastien! Who knows where she’s at by now?! Do you realize how much time we’ve wasted because of you?!”

“I did not drug her or leave her for dead—”

“But you didn’t fucking stop it either, and that’s just as damning in my eyes,” Drake spoke in a bland, empty voice as he tried to comprehend this betrayal. “I don’t know what happened to you, but you’re not the man I used to look up to, not anymore… I can’t believe you did this and continuously lied to us about it!”

Bastien slouched. “I never lied—”

“Bullshit! You’ve done nothing but lie! You’ve gotta stop and tell us the truth for once!”

“I told you everything I know, everything I’ve done. I killed the maid and had every intention of Lady Penelope taking the fall — I’ve led you astray and tampered with evidence — I admit it.”

“I don’t care about any of that shit right now!” Drake shouted. “We wanna know what you did with Brooks, Bastien.”

Bastien sighed. “Drake, I told you, I don’t know where she’s at! She was supposed to go inside and board the plane!”

“But you didn’t wait and ensure she did, at least?” Olivia asked with an arched brow.

“I didn’t think I needed to! After what I heard coming out of that room, I assumed she would run inside to get away… If anyone knows, it’s probably that Anton character!”

“Anton…” Olivia repeated, her curiosity peaking. “What do you know about him? And the other guy? Claudius?”

“Absolutely nothing. I’d never seen them before and haven’t since. All I know is they were in charge of relocating Tariq.”

“And you don’t know where that is, either?”

“No, I don’t. I didn’t ask questions, and I wasn’t told. I ran their names in the system to see if I could figure anything out, but they’re ghosts — there aren’t even medical records with either name on it.”

Olivia scoffed. “So, why do it, then?”

“I have my reasons…” He finally gathered the courage to take a peek in Drake's direction, but when he spotted the wild blaze of fire in his eyes, swiftly glanced away.

“Yeah… Okay…” Olivia indignantly laughed. “So was this your idea, or were you working under someone else’s watch?” He didn’t reply, but she and Drake noticed his shoulders tense. “That’s all the answer I need. So who is it? Who’s pulling the strings here?”

Bastien shook his head. “That I can’t tell you.”

“You’re already a dead man no matter which way you look at it, so you may as well just tell us. If you do, there is the tiniest chance that you may receive mercy,” Olivia growled as her hand instinctively reached for the dagger hidden in her waistband.

“I’m aware of that, but I cannot tell you.”

“Bas, you need to fucking—”

“Damn it, Drake, I can’t!” Bastien shouted. He knew the pain Drake felt was nothing compared to what he’d feel if he knew the truth, but he refused to open that can of worms.

Liam remained eerily quiet as he listened to Bastien retell the events of that night. To say he was fuming would be the understatement of the millennium. Bastien’s continuous misleading and knowledge of Riley being drugged, assaulted, and potentially still in Cordonia sent Liam overboard. Not to mention, he basically left her for dead in a parking lot. Bastien did all of that; he may not have physically harmed her himself, but he stood guard, let it happen, and actively worked to cover it up, making Liam physically sick to his stomach.

The all-consuming rage he tried to control reached its boiling point. He was no longer asking nicely — he was demanding.

Liam slowly stood from his chair, the loud screech halting the surrounding bickering. He leaned over the table on his knuckles and positioned himself at eye level with his former guard. “You told her that I did it?”

Bastien’s eyes spread eagle. “I just needed to get her out of the door… I assumed that would get her to leave willingly, but she didn’t believe a word I said.”

Liam indignantly laughed, the sound sending waves of uncertainty through everyone in the room. “So it wasn’t enough to physically break her — you had to pile emotional pain on top, too?”

“Sir, she did not believe me,” Bastien reasoned. “She knew you would never do such a thing. It was only a last-ditch attempt on my part to get her out.”

Liam mindlessly nodded, ignoring the new wave of dread filling his veins. He’d convinced himself even through all this madness, when they reached the bottom of this intricate web, there was still a slight chance Riley could love him back, but that hope burst into flames instantaneously. Regardless of whether she believed the lie, he was more determined than ever to find her, ensure her safety, and make sure she knew he played no part in this. He had no intentions of hiding his prolonged negligence of the situation from her, but wasn’t willing to let her hate him over something he had no part of.

Liam took a deep, steadying breath and spoke in a low, timbre rumble. “I’m ordering you to tell me who orchestrated all this, Bastien — you owe me that much.”

Bastien remained silent for a long moment as he held his monarch’s intent gaze. Eventually, he sat back in his chair and broke eye contact while pursing his lips together. “Damn it, tell me!” Liam shouted, his voice echoing against the concrete walls.

Bastien hesitated, as he quickly planned his path from here. The potential to get caught was always there, and he thought extensively about what he would do and who to say in this situation. His secrets fueled a small portion of his decision, but the majority centered around fear. He wouldn’t be safe either way but would take his punishment from the crown. Aside from keeping his skeletons inside the closet, to defy the — others — would essentially put nails in his coffin, just waiting to be hammered in. He’d seen firsthand the carnage they were capable of; a couple of treason charges were nothing in comparison.

But if he pointed them in the right direction, it wouldn't be him outing the culprit.

The tension lingered but right when Olivia opened her mouth to push, Bastien quietly answered, “It was your father…”

The room went silent; not a single breath to be heard. Olivia took in the steadfast determination in Bastien’s features and knew for once — he wasn’t lying. And it made some sense; Bastien was purely manpower, not an active brain contributing, and Constantine had the power to force him into anything. However, she instantly knew the former monarch was not the person behind that door with Riley.

Constantine was in high demand and there was no way he could’ve slipped away from the jamboree that early unnoticed. Olivia recalled that night, and to her knowledge, Constantine retired at the same time as Liam. Plus, if they believed Liam’s out-of-body experience to be reality, Constantine was right beside him while the attack took place.

She believed him but also realized while he told the truth, he didn’t tell all of it. There was more to the story, and she intended to get any and every ounce of information out of him, no matter what it took.

Olivia opened her mouth to address Bastien, but Liam beat her to it. “My father?” He repeated, confusion showcased brightly on his face.

“Yes, sir,” Bastien softly spoke. “I know that may be hard for you to hear, but—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Liam suddenly bellowed as his shock quickly morphed into dangerous fury. “You’re still trying to lie?!”

Bastien’s eyes widened. “I swear to you — he’s the one who told me to send her back to New York.”

Liam shook his head, his face reddening with every sullen breath. “No… You’re just trying to cover your own ass, that’s it!”

Bastien sighed. “I don’t expect you to believe me, but that is the truth. Your father is the one who—”

Liam paced the small area, his racing thoughts spiraling out of control. “My father would not do this, regardless of how strongly he felt about it. This is fucking evil and deranged — he is a lot of things, but he would never do something like this to me.” He seethed. “So I will ask you one final time — who was it?”

Silence commenced once more, but Bastien eventually answered. “I told you who it was. If you choose not to believe me, that’s your prerogative. I did what he ordered me to do.”

Fast as lightning, Liam brought his fist up and connected with Bastien’s jaw. He went around the table and hit him again, and again, until Bastien was on his knees with his head dangling in between his still cuffed hands. Liam didn’t care if he killed him or not at that moment; all that mattered was exacting revenge on behalf of his beloved, even if she wasn’t there to witness it. The monarch checked out, replaced by a vicious beast — a starved one, at that.

Liam saw nothing except Riley’s face, the sound of her cries from his out-of-body experience echoing in his mind. His hand throbbed as he relentlessly took his frustrations out on Bastien, but he barely felt it because of the pure hatred and adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Olivia and Drake watched, exchanging worried glances as Liam continued his assault. Both felt incredible amounts of anger toward Bastien, but they saw the bits of truth. Liam might not want to believe it, but Constantine made the most sense.

However, Olivia wholeheartedly believed Constantine was not the one in that room. He may have ordered Bastien to engage, but deep down she knew he was not the one calling the shots that night. As Liam continued to pummel him, she had half a mind to stop him, but the person taking out his anger on his crumpled guard was not her childhood friend, and even she was hesitant to interfere.

It was Drake who finally intervened, laying a firm hand on his shoulder. “Li…” When Liam shook him off, he tried again with more force. “Liam!”

“Get your fucking hands off of me!” Liam shouted, quickly returning to his mission. Every bone that snapped underneath his fist soothed a portion of his soul, but he wasn’t willing to stop until Bastien felt even a small portion of the pain enveloping his entire being.

The door crept open and Leo went to step inside, Maxwell close behind, but halted when he spotted a bloodied and battered Bastien dangling from the side of the table. Liam continued his attack, completely oblivious to the additional presences in the room. Leo noticed the mixed expressions from Olivia and Drake and quickly pieced a vague conclusion together. Never in his life did he think Bastien could be capable of such atrocities, but clearly they found something to tie him to it.

Leo stepped toward Liam and timidly tapped his shoulder to gather his attention. “Li, we found Penelope. She was headed to the palace with orders for incineration upon arrival, but we stopped it and she should be back soon. I talked with Landon and Emmaline and they’ve agreed to send her wherever you see fit for autopsy. Ray recommended a specialist, but I wanted your input before I started the process.”

Liam finally stopped his assault and stared down at Bastien’s crumpled body with labored breaths. “The amount of which you’re willing to go to bury this is ridiculous! WHO could be that important that you would do all this — risk EVERYTHING for?!” He bellowed, his voice booming against the walls.

Bastien never answered, whether by choice or from his injuries, but a silence took over as Liam really pondered that question for a moment. This wasn’t just some measly scandal anymore; this was an extensive operation concocted to remove the top competitors and ensure he married Madeleine. At first assumption, it would be easy to point a finger at Madeleine herself, but Bastien held no allegiance to her, and the two hardly spoke before the start of the engagement tour. She held no power over him and had no way to get him to bend to her will.

And that was simply too easy — right?

Bastien’s involvement suddenly narrowed down the potential list of suspects, as Liam knew there was a very short number of people he would have no choice but to obey. Despite everything, he didn’t want to believe Bastien willingly did all of this. He expressed feeling some kind of remorse while it was happening, but he still aided and lied about it afterward, making his guilt irrelevant.

He had no reason to trust Bastien, but the more he thought about it, the more his heart accepted the tale.

The betrayal from his former guard was a lot to process, but knowing who could have ultimately constructed the whole thing shredded him into a million tiny pieces. Half of him was ready to unleash a wrath like no other, while the other half wanted to crumple into a ball and cry. His already fragile heart couldn't take the strain; right when he thought this situation couldn't get worse, it did. Someone so close forcefully took something so precious, knowing how much Riley meant to him, and it completely blindsided him.

His back hit the wall and he slid down it, clutching his chest. Leo and Drake quickly moved to catch him, thinking he was having another episode, but Liam shook them off. As everyone took in his dejection, they realized he accepted who their next subject of questioning would be.

“Leo…” Liam swallowed thickly, his breaths rapid and labored. “Tell me — tell me our father wouldn’t do this… He’s not evil, just hard-headed — right?”

Leo winced. “I… I wish I could, Li, but…” He didn’t want to believe it but with Constantine’s infatuation with the throne, he couldn’t put it past him. Their father was never malicious, but he had a control problem regarding the crown; Leo knew firsthand.

But would he go this far?

Liam let out a forceful huff of air and ran his hands down his face, trying and failing to keep his tears at bay. “I — I thought it was bad that Bastien betrayed me, but — him? Why would he do this?”

“I want to answer that, Liam, but I’m not the person to ask… One way or another, you know we have to confront him…”

Liam grimly nodded. “I know… I just — what if he is the one who did all of this? What am I supposed to do then, Leo?”

Leo remained silent for a long moment, gathering his thoughts, but was to no avail, as he genuinely didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know, Liam… I really don’t…”

[choicesficwriterscreations]

Just shy of three years ago, I happily stepped in to help when @choicesficwriterscreations needed assistance with CFWC Fics of the Week. Shortly thereafter, the blog's original creator, @loricreates, was ready to step down, and along with @lucy-268 I was honored to take over and continue the great work Lori had started.

The CFWC archive provides an invaluable service to our fandom, but it was always so much more to me. It's a place where people connect, friendships are fostered, and our incredibly talented creators have a chance to be seen and appreciated.

It has been my pleasure to serve as CFWC's mod, and I'm very proud of the contributions I have made during that time. But it's also a lot of work, and lately, it was beginning to feel like a chore. That's when I knew it was time to say goodbye. I'm not going far; I'll still be in the fandom. I may even show up here to help host a special event or two in the future, but for now, I want to spend my time concentrating on other things, both in and outside of the fandom. That includes my writing, catching up on reading, and supporting each of you.

I want to thank @lorircreates, CFWC's founder, for her vision, for creating this space, and for entrusting it to me. It was an honor to take the reins from you, and I hope we've done your "baby" proud.

I want to thank @lucy-268, who was a dream co-moderator. We sure had a lot of good (and crazy) times running the blog together. I'm so glad this fandom brought us together... and we'll stay that way long after this fandom is gone. 💙

I'd like to thank @liaromancewriter, who has graciously offered to take over so that CFWC can continue. Please join me in welcoming Mal as the blog's new moderator! It makes me feel much better knowing I'm leaving CFWC in your hands!

Most of all, I want to thank all of you. Each and every one of you has made our fandom what it is. The creators who make us laugh, cry, and feel things we never expected to feel. The readers and art fans who have encouraged everyone along the way. Everyone who has ever "geeked out" over a beloved story, character, or OC together. Through CFWC, I've gotten to know many of you better, and that has been the best part of the time I've spent here.

So this is my final CFWC post... one last time! :) I can't wait to see what the future brings! 😘

[moominofthevalley]

‘That’s why I keep you around. To give me more hope.’

YOU GUYS. I am bawling at this!! Thank you so much to @oh-so-youre-a-nerd for creating this beautiful work of Trystan and Emily :’’’’) It's so beautiful!

This gorgeous and amazing piece was won from the @choicesficwriterscreations Holiday 2023 event!

I am, again, SO IN LOVE WITH IT. thank you so much for this commission. I just love this to bits!!!!!

[peonierose]

Hi Bestie!

I saw this on Instagram and thought it would make for a fun ask.

Your LI says, "If you could have me for 24 hours and I couldn't say no, what would we do?"

How does your MC respond?

That’s Amore

Book: TNA

Type: Social Media Edits

Summary: Emma organizes a trip to Italy for her husband Sam, their kids, her best friend Jenny, Robin, Sofia and Addison.

A/N: Thanks so much for this ask @cariantha it was so much fun to make these edits 🩷 Love you bestie 🩷

Sidenote: All events happened after TNA 3 was over.

[mikaelsrose]

Ghost of You

Pairing: Tyril x f!human!MC (Reyna)

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow 2, chapter 1

Word count: 1720

Rating: T

Warnings: emotional hurt

Category: angst

A/n: where there is angst potential, there I am as well. it’s short, it’s painful, enjoy

Tag list: @lxdy-starfury @starlight-starfury @watatsumi-island @lazypartridge @sophie-summer @lilyoffandoms @brycesgirl @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesbookclub

“Then, if you don’t mind, once this is over I’d love to go back to Undermount with you.”

“Nothing would bring me greater joy than to come back home with you, my love.”

Benumbed, Tyril observed the bloody droplets’ road down the sandy stone wall of his chamber in the Whitetower palace. The pulsating pain in his left hand indicated, at best, a split knuckle, yet it could not amount to the agonising pain in his heart. It had been three months since Reyna was captured, and they made almost no progress in coming up with a plan to rescue her. Despite the countless hours spent in the realm’s biggest, most abundant library, despite desperately begging the most prominent magic wielders to open a portal to the Shadow realm, they made no progress. It was time to head home.

“Hey, don’t be a stranger, okay? We’ll keep digging as well,” Mal patted the elf on the arm as he mounted his drake. Tyril nodded almost imperceptibly. 

Nia gave his healthy hand a faint squeeze. Noticing her worried gaze, he squeezed back. The Priestess could not forget the agonised wail he let out one night, the same one she heard deep in the elven catacombs when they learned the truth about Kaya’s fate. Hearing the heartbreak in her usually composed friend’s voice broke her already strained heart. “Please take care of yourself, Tyril.”

“Reyna’s a mighty fighter, elf. We’ll find a way to get her back,” Imtura comforted, but even she could hear the lack of conviction in her voice.

“That’s assuming she’s still alive,” he muttered and before anyone could scold him, added: “Keep pushing Aerin. Resort to violence if necessary.”

The orc nodded and after a brief goodbye, Tyril gave the command and the drake took to the skies.

Upon arrival at the Starfury Manor, he requested for a guest room to be prepared and headed for the library, where he spent the following days. Combing through several books a day, the elf paid little attention to the food his family provided, the need for sleep or any of his representative responsibilities. It was not until a week later that he returned to the manor for the night, steering clear from his bedchamber, the one in which he spent a night with Reyna. 

The blue tint of the night sky and loud hoots of the native red-feathered Undermount owl indicated a late night hour. Despite the exhaustion, he found the strength to scribble a short journal entry.

Day 126 

Another fruitless night at the library. No news from Whitetower. Reyna would scold me for losing hope, but how am I supposed to believe there is a way when we haven't even stumbled upon anything helpful? What if there is no way?

According to Nia, Prince Aerin still refuses to cooperate. Or perhaps even he doesn't know how to help. I suppose he wouldn't withhold such knowledge, knowing it is Reyna who needs help.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The information of Reyna's abduction resounded in every town, giving way to a wave of terror at the possibility of the dangerous enemies returning. Grateful nods and welcomes turned into pained looks of worry and compassion, forcing Tyril to hole up in the library where nobody bothered him. 

The notion of people pitying him implied an impasse, and Tyril was far from giving up. He was convinced that there was a way to open a portal, and he just had to find the right book. 

He rubbed his eyes, allowing a few tears of exhaustion to roll down his pale cheeks. 

That night, led by the ghost of melancholy, Tyril made his way to his chamber. 

Lying on his side, Tyril closed his eyes and his hand instinctively reached for her, only to be welcomed by a cold emptiness. 

Convinced he could still smell her flowery lotion on the pillow, the elf hugged the fabric to his chest, his thumb involuntarily stroking the material as if he was holding Reyna. 

"Please, hold on for a little longer, Reyna," he whispered, lulled to sleep by the soothing owl song. That night, just as every other night, he dreamt of Reyna; however, this time it was not a nightmare.

"Unless you fancy an ugly scar, stop wiggling for a moment," Reyna scolded, patting the wound on his neck with an alcohol soaked gauze. Tyril clenched his teeth and endured the medical care in silence. Once the wound was cleaned and bandaged, Reyna pressed her lips to his warm and slightly damp temple while Tyril, finally allowing himself a moment of respite, rested his head on her chest. His eyelids closed instantly as he felt safe in her embrace. 

Dragging his own feet, Tyril made his way through the city’s market district, ignoring the delicious smells of honey cakes and cheerful shouts of children dancing to a visiting bard’s song, a tale of Morella’s brigand of heroes. 

As he took a seat by a humble pond in the heart of a communal garden, the image of his beloved slipped into his mind, bringing about the memory of Reyna comforting him after Kaya’s funeral. A low, pathetic chuckle, resembling a shy sob, escaped his throat. Was losing the people dearest to his heart the price for saving so many lives? Had he not paid enough already?

The days and nights became a blur. Had he not kept a track of days in his journal, he would not have the faintest idea how long she’d been gone. Journaling was to be a way to keep his thoughts organised, but it did not stand the test of time. His daily scribbles rather quickly turned into letters to Reyna, letters he could not send. 

Encouraged by Adrina who could not bear to watch the limitless sorrow of her beloved brother, Tyril decided to return to his roots, a traditional meditation known as Erinza, typically a fifteen-minute conversation with the Gods which he had abandoned whilst on his quest. Now, as if both to atone and to beg them for help, he meditated for an hour three times a day.

As much as they could, the Starfurys helped to comb the library shelves, partially to help bring Reyna back, and partially to keep an eye on Tyril, making sure he ate and took naps. The dark circles under his eyes, matted hair conveniently gathered in a messy bun and unhealing wounds on his knuckles indicated that not only was he not taking care of himself but also that his nerves started to wear thin.

My dearest Reyna,

today marks the 250th day of your absence. I’m ashamed to admit that, realistically, there is nothing we can do for you. The last dove from Whitetower arrived this morning, saying that our friends had to resume their responsibilities, leaving just me and your brother searching the libraries. Imtura promised to check the plundered scrolls in Flotilla. Perhaps the orcs will have more luck. I certainly hope so.

I fear the Gods have forsaken me, Reyna. Despite my desperate pleas, there is no sign of anyone listening. 

Tyril sighed and scored the last sentence out of the entry. He was embittered, yes, but he knew better than to treat the Gods as djinns who would make his wishes come true. 

Throughout the day he struggled to keep his anger at bay, the sense of injustice, guilt, and punishment desperately clang to him while at night his dreams were plagued by the horrific possibilities of the abductors' tortures, thus despite catching a few hours of sleep, he'd wake up even more exhausted than before. The shadows took everything from him. When he almost gave his life trying to rid the world of danger, restore his House’s reputation, and give his beloved friend a proper closure, the darkness still found a way to destroy him. 

Whenever he felt the anger and urge for vengeance, he remembered the person he became thanks to Reyna. Before they met, his quest consumed him, sheer fury permeated every cut of his sword, and every conversation he held with the innocent residents. Reyna showed him a different path, a path that was kind but just, filled with love and compassion. As the walking testament to the incredible person she was, Tyril aspired to encompass what she taught him. To honour her memory.

Day 360. I fear that had there been a way to enter the Shadow Realm, we would have found it a long time ago. It’s time to look realistically at this situation. I have once again lost the one closest to my heart and I can’t shake the persistent thought that had I been faster, more decisive, she would now lie next to me. 

He failed. It was time to admit defeat. He failed Kaya, and then he failed Reyna. 

Once the hope for finding a way to rescue his beloved dwindled, almost exactly a year later, Tyril contended it was high time he returned to the family and social life. On a warm June night, he represented his House at a wedding of one of the House Ascendant heirs. Watching the elven pairs effortlessly sail through the floor, Tyril remembered last year’s masquerade—remembered how despite the looming danger of the Shadow Court he managed to dance with Reyna, how quickly he always forgot about the surrounding world whenever she was in his arms, and how incredible it felt to hold her so close. For a split second, he could even see their ghosts dance again, and he felt a familiar stinging in his eyes. Sipping on his honey wine, he pondered praying to the human gods, but he was shaken out of his thoughts by a warm hand on his shoulder.

Adrina was looking at him with a warm smile. "May I have this dance, Lord Starfury?"

Tyril nodded absent-mindedly. As he led his sister across the floor, navigating amongst the cheerful elves, he imagined he was holding Reyna in his arms. Alas, Adrina's tall stature painfully reminded him of the harsh truth.

Day 365. Today I visited Kaya’s grave, begging her for help. I know I shouldn’t bother a resting soul—alas, I’ve become utterly desperate, love. Come back to me, Reyna.

[ladylamrian]

Nightbound • Blades of Light & Shadows • Crimes of Passion

Pairings: F!MC×NikRyder ; F!MC×AerinValleros ; F!MC×MalVolari ; F!MC×M!TrystanThorne

Summary: Principal Liam has an interview today with a new teaching staff. Will they try to impress him and get the job?

Chapter 1 - The new staff - Word Count: 2.8K words - General

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Comments via Reblog wholeheartedly welcome

Author's note: It might take a long time till the next chapter releases. I have a lot writing plans, so I hope you understand. Inspired by @a-cloud-for-dreams series: Scholars of B. Lane.

Welcome to The Royal Academy, a place for a prince, princess, duke, duchess and other royal nobilities to study and learn more about their royal life filled with responsibilities, duties and challenges. Led by husband and wife, His Royal Highness King Liam Rys from Cordonia and Her Majesty Queen Riley from Cordonia with their right hand, Duchess Olivia Nevrakis from Lythikos... What challenges await this year? With new students, there will be also new staff available.

King Liam, now Principal Liam was seated in his office in the academy, preparing some important documents for the new year tomorrow. He was the head of the academy and was also expecting a new full-time teaching staff today for an interview since Duke Simon Montjoy and his American wife were expecting a baby soon. Family was one of the most important things for him since he was also a father of three children. His children are very young, that's why his wife was only working part-time for now. The Cordonian friends, Drake, Hana and Maxwell always supportive and on their side to support him and take care of his children.

Sadly there weren't many applicants eligible for this position, so all the hope was that this job interview would go excellent. Time was short. Really short.

"Hey honey, I made you some tea.", his wife, Riley entered the head office which she shared with his husband. She carried a teacup filled with warm green tea and placed it on the wooden table. Liam thanked her without meeting her eyes as he was still focused on his unfinished paperwork which got Riley a bit worried and tried to reassure him.

"Liam, don't worry. You will do great like always."

"It's not that. I'm worried about the future of my new students. I just hope today's interview will go excellent and I don't have to look for another teaching staff anymore.", he confessed and looked at his wristwatch.

It was already 5 minutes past the job interview which should have already started. Whoever the applicant is, is late and it can't be tolerated in the academy. Teaching staff who should be educating young royals about manners, responsibility and to fulfill any task correctly before the deadline... Is late?? Not a good first impression. Punctuality is important.

"I assume the interview won't happen today.", Liam sighted as if he just accepted defeat. But his wife was sure that the applicant would come today and tried to keep up the positive side.

"Liam, people can get late. There must be a reasonable explanation and...", she couldn't finish her sentence as a sudden knock at the door interrupted.

"Come in, please.", Liam commanded the guest inside their office. The door lightly opened a few centimeters, but not more. It stayed still and there was no sight of someone entering. Seated on his office chair, Liam was stunned and so was his wife.

"What was that?"

"Perhaps just the wind, darling."

"Can the wind knock, Riley? I'm pretty sure that we both heard..."

"Excuse me, sir.", a high-pitched voice was requesting for some attention.

"Uhh, Liam, did you hear that?"

"Yes, but I don't see anyone here.", he and Riley were surprised until the same voice appeared again. This time it sounded almost annoyed.

"Pardon me, but would you humans just look down. I'm here!!", a black cat with bat wings flew up and landed right in front of Liam on his desk.

"What the...??!!! What are you?", King Liam panicked as didn't expect a talking cat to appear.

"Awwww, isn't the cat cute?!!!"

"Riley, it's a talking cat and not cute."

"Pardon me, but I cannot handle such disrespect. If the lady thinks I'm cute then please respect her opinion.", the creature annoyingly hissed which frightened the principal.

"Please, leave!! It's a school and people could be allergic to cats like you. Where did you even come from?!!"

"Pardon me, but I'm attending important business here and need to speak to the head of this school. Perhaps even complain about you since you cannot speak to me, Threep Pompedorfin, a wise nesper like this.", the winged cat licked his paw with attitude.

"Wait, you're Mister Pompedorfin??! The new teacher I'm expecting for the interview??!! I... I didn't expect you to be... like this.", Liam was highly surprised about the sudden reveal.

"Meow me? Excuse me, and you are...?"

"Principal Liam, Head of the Academy.", he spoke with confidence while adjusting the collars of his white shirt underneath his fancy, black coat. His introduction shocked the bat-winged cat.

"Purrrr... You're the head of the academy and king of Cordonia? Well, I expected someone more... older and wiser? Pardon me.", Threep licked his paw again, then brushed it behind his ear.

There was a long silence between the Rys couple and their furry guest, trying to progress. Liam's wife, Riley encouraged him to still continue the job interview and give Threep a chance. It didn't take long till the king agreed to it. Folding his arms, his focus turned back to Threep.

"So, Mister Pompedorfin, tell me more about you."

"Of course, I'm Threep Percivacurus Pompedorfin, a very wise, respectful and ancient nesper. And I love food, so I hope the food in the cafeteria is worth it."

"Very interesting. Also, a nesper?"

"Yes, I'm a nesper and so is my pregnant partner, Loola. Nespers have wisdom and the impeccable ability to judge character. So my apologies for that. It is my solemn duty and distinct pleasure to offer aid wherever I can. Even when it means giving life lessons to the young generation because it is them and my wiseness who'll form the upcoming future."

"Well, it's good to hear that you care about the future of my students. And your motivation to teach them some fruitful lessons. Why did you choose my academy?"

"Because my sixth sense told me that I am desperately needed, sir. Wherever people seek my help, I'll be there... Well... And my partner is pregnant, so I need something well-paid to feed her and my unborn babies."

"Awww, such a cute kitty is having baby kittens?!!! Congratulations on becoming a father soon, Mister Pompedorfin. Please, I'd love to meet your wife, and the babies after they're born.", Riley was excited and still found Threep cute.

"Riley, dear, please... Let me handle this. It's an interview.", Liam silently whispered and held her by her shoulder. Threep meowed to get their attention.

"Meow! Excuse me, but do I have the title of Professor and staff member of your academy already? Do you take me? I'd like to know before taking a look into the cafeteria and then flying home."

"Of course, Liam would accept such an adorable face like you, right?", Riley encouraged and patted Threep's tiny head, still amazed by his cuteness.

King Liam pulled Riley towards him and requested their guest to wait outside to discuss this matter with his wife in private. The newspaper did as he wished and waited outside for the final answer. Will Threep be accepted in the Academy or will he immediately be thrown out?

"So Liam? Do we give him the job?", she asked him.

"Honestly, that was... It's not what I expected. I can't believe it. Tomorrow's the first day of school and I can't even arrange a proper teaching staff?"

"What about Mr. Pompedorfin? He's our last chance. We can't pressure the teaching staff we have already more work. At least accept Threep. He knows a lot and seems very wise."

After hearing his wife's words, he stood up from his chair and walked around his office in circles. To think. It took him a few minutes until he stopped walking and finally came to a conclusion.

"Okay, Riley. Fine, I'll hire Mister Pompedorfin. But if he doesn't fulfill his duties properly, I'll immediately start looking for another staff and fire him. Look, I'm normally not like that. Everyone deserves a second chance, but it's also about the future of our students."

"I trust you, Liam. And I'm pretty sure that Mr. Pompedorfin won't disappoint.", she moved closer towards her husband and embraced herself in his arms while he pulled her closer. Planting a tiny, sweet kiss on her bare shoulder, he thanked her for supporting him.

After their sweet little moment, Liam hurried towards his desk and pulled a list out.

"I'll hire Mister Pompedorfin and will hand him over the smallest class of students. Just in case. If he handles this well, then I'll be more confident about him in the future and he'll stay with us in the academy. I already have a few students in mind to put in his class. They're so various, that perhaps he might have already experience with them. I want to take things slowly for him.", Liam warmly smiled, ready to welcome the new teaching staff. Professor Threep Pompedorfin.

After the nesper found out in Liam's office that he got accepted, he was amazed and delighted about the news.

"I knew that you would finally see that I'm suitable for this honorable cause, your Highness. That's the respect I deserve."

"Congratulations and welcome, Mister Pompedorfin. May tomorrow's first day be a success."

"Puuurrrrfect. Now if you'll excuse me, I want to stop by the cafeteria downstairs and ask about tomorrow's menu and if they have something already prepared today that I could taste. Someone has to check. For the students, right? See you tomorrow."

These were the last words of the winged cat before it flapped it's wings and flew outside the office.

"Isn't he adorable, Liam?"

"Why do I have the feeling that many women will get easily charmed by him? Well, anyway... I need to focus on work."

For the next two hours, King Liam, Queen Riley and their loyal friends from Cordonia were seated in the office discussing the upcoming school year. They had often those kind of meetings about the academy and their dedication towards their kingdom of Cordonia. This one was just the last meeting to discuss the opening of the Academy in the new year like they did every year.

Olivia Nevrakis, the right hand of the Rys couple was delighted for this year, especially after she just saw the name of her cousin from Drakovia on the students list. She's also the new head of security in the academy because it was essential to secure safety for the high-elite students.

"Liam, I found two of the best people I could hire to secure the safety of our students and the academy. The parents have nothing to worry about. This year we will have two people for our security and safety.", Olivia, the Scarlett Duchess spoke with high confidence.

"I like our new security standards, Olivia. If you trust them, then so do I. I want the students and the academy to be left in safe hands.", Liam trusted Olivia's decisions and was excited to meet the two, new members. Only a few Cordonian guards are now in the academy, but they are mostly needed in his kingdom.

During his absence, Drake Walker was responsible for the security of Cordonia. His home and where his children lived. His wife, Queen Riley will only support him for the beginning days, then she'll return to their children.

"Have you already made the timetables?", Lady Hana curiously asked, wanting to know her times and which class she'll get. She would be teaching the subjects Art, Music and some Fashion classes. While Lady Kiara specialized in Foreign Affairs, Cultures & Languages.

The rest of their friends, Maxwell, Penelope and Madeline had royal duties in Cordonia to handle like Drake. Plus, Maxwell loved to spend time with the Rys children and take care of them.

Class schedules and lists were now already made. And like Principal Liam decided, the new teacher, Professor Threep Pompedorfin would get the smallest class group of students. He checked all the lists one last time before they were finished. The new school year can come...

Servants rushed in the early morning around the dining room serving the two children their breakfast on their first day of school in the Royal Academy. They bowed as their ruler, their duke entered and then continued their work.

"Good morning, my lovely children. Are you excited for your first day?", he sweetly asked before planting a gentle kiss on their cheeks.

"Yes, father. I can't believe today's our first day and I'm so excited. It'll be just like high school again, right?", the daughter answered while she continued to eat her fresh fruit salad.

"What's high school? Well, never mind. I still think it's not right. Why should we go to a school led by human beings?", the younger brother snorted who definitely wasn't thrilled about going to school.

"My son, I figured that it might be the best. Perhaps this way you would understand the life your sister had among humans and that they're not all bad after all. I love you and just want the best for my shining stars. And I heard that other beings will be there too. You will learn a lot there."

"Tialo, could you hand me over the orange juice? Please, I can't reach it.", the sister was struggling as her hands couldn't reach the filled glass carafe. The younger brother, Tialo didn't care and ignored her request until their father, the Duke, Lord Elric spoke.

"Tialo, help your sister.", he ordered him, then reached for the juice himself to hand it over to his daughter.

"Father, how many times did I tell you that she's not my sister??!!", Tialo almost shouted while innocent Alex was too focused on her meal.

"Enough, Tialo!!! Your mother and I accepted her as our own already. She may be my child from another woman, but I still love her."

"Father, that woman you were together with is a human!!! And so is Alex!!! Humans are nothing. Alex is half fae, half human. A halfling who shouldn't be among us. There's nothing royal about her and..."

"You said enough, Tialo. Quiet now!!! Perhaps sending you to the academy with your sister might be wise, so you would understand each other. Support each other and learn how to get along."

Tialo wasn't thrilled at his father's words and decided to stay quiet, but that won't happen for long... He'll figure out something. Just wait and see.

"Chop, chop, you're getting late for your first day. Hurry up, my children.", the sweet voice of the loving Lady Thalissa, Lord Elric's wife rang across the room as she entered. She rushed towards them and planted a gentle kiss on each of their foreheads. Some fae servants brought the suitcases of Lady Alexis and Lord Tialo already downstairs for them.

"I will miss you two very much. You'll stay away from home. I wish...", the duchess whispered to them and her green eyes sparkled with tears.

"Mother, I'll be fine. Don't worry."

"Yes, Thalissa. Tialo is right. We'll be alright. Don't worry, we're strong. You're not alone, Father is still with you. Please, don't cry.", Alex tried to assure her caring stepmother and squeezed her free hand.

"I know, it's just... Promise to take care of each other, to eat enough, and to behave yourself. Don't forget to drink water and wear clothes that are made for the weather. And...", she got interrupted by her husband.

"I think they understood and we shouldn't hold them any longer. They're getting late."

"But father, we won't make it. It's already..."

"My princess daughter, you're forgetting that we're fae.", Elric answered with amusement and to her surprise, opened a portal that would directly lead them to the academy in the human realm.

And with that, Alex and Tialo met each other's eyes before focusing back on the portal in front of them. Tialo may have been used to fae magic and portals, but his half-sister wasn't. Clutching her suitcase and saying her goodbyes to the parents, she closed her eyes, finally entering the portal along with Tialo. Bright light was all she could see even when her chocolate-brown eyes were closed. After a moment, she slowly opened them again and faced...

"Wow!!! Beautiful.", she happily twirled in front of the gate of the academy. So huge and majestic.

"You find that beautiful, halfling? Poor thing, then you haven't seen our home completely yet.", he spoke in a mocking manner and then laughed at her.

In front of the two siblings, other students entered the gates of the academy with their suitcases, one by one after a proper security check. It was very astonishing to see various students from different places. European, Asian, Hispanic... Even different species which weren't only humans, like elves and even faes like them. Perhaps an Inter-realm Academy?

[sfb123]

Leaping to Conclusions

Pairing: Liam x Riley

All characters belong to Pixelberry

Summary: The pressure to produce an heir is getting to Liam and Riley, leading them to turn to some unconventional methods.

Rating: PG, Adult Language

Word Count: 1,395

A/N: This fic is insanity guys, I'm not even going to pretend it's anything but. I learned the most absurd fun fact this week, and after sharing it with pretty much everyone I know, @ao719 convinced me that it needed to be a fic, and here we are.

For the record, this story doesn't take place in any of my timelines. My Liam and Riley can be weird, but never this weird. 😂

I am participating in @choicesflashfics, the prompt: “Wait a second. Pause and rewind … what did you just say?” will appear in bold below.

And finally, nobody has pre-read this, so apologies in advance for my horrendous grammar, and anything else about it that sucks.

Riley’s eyes fluttered open as she felt Liam’s lips trailing slowly across her shoulder. She moaned softly and arched back into him. 

“Good morning, love.” He whispered huskily into her ear. 

“When it starts like this it is.” She replied, reveling in the attention she was receiving from her husband. 

As his hand traveled up her body, her stomach started to lurch. Her hand flew to her mouth and she leapt out of his arms and rushed to the bathroom of their guest room in the Walker ranch. Liam sat up and watched with worry as the door slammed shut. 

After a few moments, Liam stood and approached the door. He could hear his wife on the other end, and he knew exactly what was going on. He rapped gently on the door. “Riley, are you alright? Can I get you anything?”  

The only response he received were a few more retching noises, followed by the toilet flushing. Soon after, the door opened, and Liam met Riley’s red, blotchy eyes. “Sorry.” 

Liam wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. “You don’t have to apologize, it’s not your fault.” They stood there in silence as Liam held her. “Riley, do you think you may need to take a test?” 

Since the royal couple had gotten married, they’d been facing pressure to produce an heir. While they did not take their positions as monarchs lightly, for them, it was more about building a family together. 

“It wouldn’t hurt.” Riley shrugged before returning to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Liam took a seat at the end of the bed to wait for her. 

“Oh no!” Liam stood and rushed back to the door at Riley’s cry. She came back into the bedroom, more distraught than she had been before. “I dropped the test in the toilet.” She buried her head in her hands. 

Liam chuckled slightly, as he wrapped his arm around her. He had read that pregnancy hormones could cause overreactions; he assumed, hoped, that was why she was so upset. “It’s alright, just take another one.”

“Liam, it was the last one!” She snapped.

He stepped back, shocked by her aggression. “That’s alright, we can go into town and get more.” 

“Are you kidding?!” Riley threw her hands up in frustration before moving to the bed and dropping down, burying her face in the pillow. “The press has been all over us, the last thing I need is for them to get a picture of me buying pregnancy tests!” 

Liam sat beside her on the bed, rubbing her back gently as he racked his brain for a solution. “I’ve got it!” 

Riley rolled over and sat up, leaning against the headboard. “What?” 

“We’re in Texas, surely there is a frog around here somewhere.” He said as he moved to the dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans. 

“Liam, this is no time to go wildlife gazing, I might be carrying the heir!” Riley chided him.

“Love calm down, the frog will be able to tell us.” He said matter of factly as he continued to get dressed. 

Her face contorted into a confused expression. “Wait a second. Pause and rewind … what did you just say?” 

He sat beside her on the bed and slid on his boots. “For about twenty years, starting in the nineteen forties, before the pregnancy tests we are familiar with today, there was the Hogben test. A British zoologist, Lancelot Hogben, discovered that when urine samples from pregnant women were injected into frogs, the frog would spawn eggs within eighteen hours. It was the most rapid and reliable pregnancy test of the time.” 

Riley stared at her husband in stunned silence. “How the fuck do you even know that?” 

“I like history.” He shrugged. 

Still befuddled by her husband’s solution, Riley took a deep breath. “So you want to inject a frog with my pee, and then in 18 hours either nothing happens and I’m not pregnant, or I am pregnant and we also have a hundred and seventy two frog eggs?” 

“They’re called frogspawn, love.” He corrected. 

She slapped her palm against her forehead. “Yeah, because that’s the most crucial thing in this conversation.”

“I’m sorry, force of habit,” Liam smiled sheepishly. “Would you like to try it? It’s a fascinating concept, I would be interested to see it in action.” 

“Liam, I don’t even want to touch a frog, let alone do science experiments on it.”

“I’ll take care of everything,” he insisted. “I’ll just need your… well, your um… sample.” 

Riley chuckled when Liam started to get flustered. “Alright, if it’ll make you happy, and all I have to do is pee in a cup, then let’s give it a try.” 

Liam grinned and leaned in, planting a quick kiss on Riley’s lips. “Excellent!”

“I guess Kermit was right, it’s not easy being green.” Riley said, shaking her head. 

Liam made his way to a nearby pond in search of the perfect frog. His eyes roamed the banks in search of his test subject. “If I were a frog, where would I be?” 

Finally, he noticed a slight movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see a frog seated on a nearby rock. “Perfect.” He stalked toward his prey, making sure to stay as quiet as possible. 

Liam was so laser focused that he didn’t notice Drake coming up behind him, curiously observing the actions of his best friend. “Li, what the fuck are you doing?” 

Drake’s words startled Liam and before he had time to catch himself, he tumbled over into the pond as the frog lept away. Drake cackled as the King of Cordonia sat waist deep in the pond glaring at him. 

“Sorry,” Drake apologized as he reached down, helping Liam out of the water. “But seriously, what are you doing?”

“Riley might be pregnant,” he answered.

Drake furrowed his brow, even more confused now that he had the explanation. “Okay, so you decided to go frog hunting to celebrate?” 

“No, we lost the test,” he responded. When Drake continued to stare at him with a blank expression, Liam sighed and explained the Hogben test just as he had done for Riley earlier. 

“And Brooks agreed to go along with this?” Drake chuckled.

“We would do anything for eachother.” 

Drake rolled his eyes and moved toward the pond. A few moments later he returned with a frog. 

“How did you do that?” Liam marveled. 

“You had your training growing up, I had mine.” He shrugged in reply. 

Liam took the frog from Drake, thanking him for his efforts and began walking back to the house. 

“I’ve gotta see this.” Drake said to himself as he followed Liam. 

Liam entered the house heading toward the stairs, until he saw Riley sitting with Madeleine on the living room couch. When he stepped up to them, he noticed the crestfallen expression on his wife’s face. 

“Love, what’s wrong?” 

“I’m not pregnant,” she responded, her eyes trained on the floor. 

“But how do you know? I’ve got the frog right here.” He held it up to show her. 

Madeleine stood from the couch, glaring in confusion and disgust at the sight in front of her. “When I was in town this morning, I bought some tests. I figured you would need them.” 

“Oh Riley,” Liam moved to Riley, outstretching his arms. 

“Liam,” she held a hand up to stop him from getting any closer. “You’re slimy, and wet… and holding a frog.” 

“Oh, right.” Liam looked down at himself, and the frog in his hands. “I should shower. Care to join me?” He asked slyly. 

���Um… maybe you should handle this one solo,” she cringed. 

Liam handed the frog over to Madeleine, who grabbed it instinctively. He signaled for Riley to follow him, and they made their way up the stairs to the bedroom.

“So you’re not going to pee on a frog?” Drake called out as they exited the room. 

“Ugh,” Madeleine groaned. “None of this would be happening if I were queen.” She turned to Drake, thrusting the frog in his direction. “Make yourself useful and deal with this thing.” She stormed out of the room, mumbling to herself, questioning where things went wrong for her.

Drake looked down at the frog with a grin. “God I love Texas.”  

Permatag:

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Liam:

@amandablink @custaroonie @jared2612

TRR:

@21-wishes @ao719 @belencha77 @burnsoslow @lovingchoices14 @the0afnan

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesflashfics

[lupinobi]

"How beautiful it is to be cruel"

In the spirit of being obsessed with the Nevrakis kids, here's Zenobia Nevrakis from TCATF with her hair down, because yes.

[karahalloway]

WIP Wednesday - 08Mar2023

Happy Wednesday Everyone!

I know I haven't done one of these in a while, but to make up for that, I actually have THREE WIPs to share with you! 😱 Shocking… I know 😅

The first one is for Sleepless in New York (after this chapter there is one, maybe two, more chapters left, so my main focus atm is finishing this series up). I am about halfway done with this chapter and hope to post by the end of the month.

The second and third is for the Mardi Gras @choicesprompts prompt that I am collaborating on with a few other writers (we’ve decided to do a story featuring all the guys from TRR and I am doing Bertrand and Bastien). All the parts will be posted together near the end of the month. The lovely moodboard was made by @harleybeaumont ❤️

Enjoy!

Chapter 9 - Edge of the Night

Hayley stumbles to a stop in front of us. "Why is there a—?"

"Had to get here somehow..."

Her jaw drops as she turns to gape at me. "So, you flew in a helicopter?"

"Faster than swimming," I tell her with a shrug.

Hayley stares at me like I was insane.

"And it's not waiting for stragglers, so if you want a lift, you'd better move it," prompts O'Sullivan, striding past her towards the idling bird.

"Hold on. Is he coming with us?" asks Hayley in disbelief.

"It's his bird," I shout over the roar of the rotor blades. "So, yeah."

Mardi Gras Mayhem - Bertrand

"Come join the party, handsome!"

A well-endowed lady lassoed him with her feather boa.

"Ah... A-Absolutely not!" Bertrand managed to choke out.

"Ooh, tough customer..." purred the woman as she started to slowly reel him in. "What about some beads? Got any of those?"

"You cannot seriously think that I would condone such vulgar behaviour, let alone reward it with cheap, plastic trinkets!"

"Hmm... you're right," mused the buxom woman, gyrating her hips to the beat of the marching drums. "Trinkets are cheap... But I'm open to other arrangements..."

"What! No! That is not what I—"

Mardi Gras Mayhem - Bastien

"Bring up the body cam!" he barked at the techie.

The tap of keys rang out as the view on the monitor changed.

"What in the—?"

Words failed Bastien. Never — in all his years as a King's Guard — had he seen anything like this.

"Are they... topless?" whispered the techie with a slack-jawed expression.

"I don't care if they're buck-ass naked!" snapped Bastien, quickly yanking his composure back together as the bare breasts continued to bounce past on the screen. "We need eyes on London and Paris! Dimitriou! Sit rep!"

"I'm neck deep in tits, sir...!"

Permatags

@twinkleallnight @lovingchoices14 @kingliam2019 @petiteboheme @aussiegurl1234 @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @tessa-liam @alyshak92 @secretaryunpaid @princessleac1 @walkerdrakewalker @angelasscribbles @nestledonthaveone @tinkie1973 @twinkle-320 @knaussal @nikkis1983 @lunaseasblog @ficloverevie @indiana-jr @differenttyphoonwerewolf @xpandass420x @eversoaringqueen12 @peonierose @3pawandme @alexabeta @veebug8 @fangirling12566 @queenmiarys @lancelotsimp @coco-lina-s @lolablackwrites @ivyflowers13 @persephone13 @hollygirl1269 @adri-ja-96 @harleybeaumont @katedrakeohd @uneravine @choicesficwriterscreations

[tessa-liam]

Life Goes On

Marabelle Series

Chapter 15 – Part 2

Choices – The Royal Romance, AU – (cross-over with Rules of Engagement)

Series Premise – An American teenager from New York City is introduced to the world of a small European country and its society of royalty, nobility, and commoners. How will her life story be transformed? Will this new adventure bring her happiness...or regret?

Marabelle Series Masterlist, My Complete Masterlist

Main Pairing – Crown Prince Liam Rys x F!OC Lady Sophia (Sophie) Taylor

Other Pairings – Maxwell Beaumont x M!OC Daniel (from NYC), Drake Walker x F!OC Melanie Smithson

Most characters belong to Choices/Pixelberry Studios

Series Rating – M*🔞Warnings: this series will have NSFW material, drinking, crude language & innuendo, gun violence

Many thanks to @selina012 for pre-reading.

Category – Alternate universe/on-going series/angst/fluff/cross-over with Choices Rules of Engagement

Chapter Summary – Liam returns home to Cordonia to find Sophie and to address his nation about the university terror attack.

Music & Title Inspiration: Life Goes On, Ed Sheeran, Luke Combs; Run To You, Lucy Thomas

A/N1: Bethany Beaumont, Maxwell’s mother, is originally from the U.S. and is Barthelemy Beaumont’s second wife. Annabelle Beaumont (deceased) is Bertrand’s mother.

A/N2: ‘Social Season’ in this AU series refers to a traditional period in the spring/summer for royalty and members of the court to take part in Balls, dinner parties and charity events.

A/N3: Heartfelt thanks to @Selina012 for joining me in writing ideas and with dialogue/content for this chapter and series.

Aboard the Royal jet, Rashad peered outside the window and took in the white sands of Cordonia's shores passing by. Suddenly his ears popped, and the pilot spoke over the intercom, announcing the estimated arrival time was in 5 minutes. He felt nervous and helpless and could not help but repeat his fears in his mind: ‘There hasn't been any good news’.

Drake watched Liam walk away from his seat, his hand curled around a glass tumbler filled with an expensive scotch. He wondered if they would hear news before they landed. Remembering his best friend's emotional spiral downward after the past assassination attempt three years ago at the palace; this had the makings of that same pattern. This time though, Drake was not going to leave Liam alone.

The dire problem of not having any clues where Sophie was at the moment was suffocating.

As they waited to land, the minutes seemed to draw out. There was not much he or any of Liam's guards could do but wait and prepare to offer the crown prince their full support.

Liam finished off his scotch, the fiery liquid barely registering, and tried to review the notes for his upcoming address to his nation in his head while stepping into his private suite onboard.

There had still been no update on his beloved Sophie's whereabouts or circumstances.

He took a deep, long breath and turned to Bastien walking next to him with unmistakable determination. "Bastien, contact the security team back home immediately. I need all the current details on the scene and an update on the rescue operations."

Bastien sprang into action, calling the security team leader and putting him on speakerphone so that Liam could hear the conversation in real time. Captain Sean Wilson answered the call.

"Captain, this is Crown Prince Liam Rys, requesting an update on the incident at the University of Cordonia." Liam's voice came through the phone speaker, clear and strong.

"Your Highness, the situation at the scene is complicated and we have deployed additional rescue teams to help facilitate the speedy rescue and recovery process.”

The captain’s voice was tired but remained professional. "We have confirmation that multiple students have been injured in the shooting. We have increased security three-fold around the campus and are working diligently to track down the suspects."

Liam's fists clenched involuntarily, but he remained stoic as he continued. "I need a complete list of all the known casualties. I want to know about each and every one."

"Your Highness, we have established a comprehensive emergency response mechanism. At present, we are compiling the information and rescue teams are working at full ability. The list of casualties is being urgently collated, and I will send it to you via encrypted channels as soon as it is completed."

Liam nodded, and though he could not be seen, there was an unmistakable insistence in his tone: "I need this completed as soon as possible. In addition, please continue to strengthen the search and rescue efforts to ensure the safety of all students. At the same time, increase the manpower to hunt down the suspects and I demand that they be brought to justice in the shortest possible time."

Shortly after hanging up, the sound of an encrypted email rang on Liam's tablet, which he quickly clicked on; and displayed a list of known casualties on the screen as asked. There were fourteen people in the column of the dead, and dozens of names in the column of the injured. Liam took a deep breath and began to go through the list of names, one by one, each name like a sharp blade, stabbing at his heart. He searched carefully, afraid to miss any possible detail. But until the end, he did not find Sophie's name.

Liam clenched his fists, his eyes shining with unshakeable determination. "Bastien, as soon as the jet lands, we will go to the scene and assess the situation personally.”

Bastien, at once responded: "Yes, Your Highness. I will ensure that everything is in place."

Liam turned his head to stare out the window at the clouds; his heart was in turmoil. Although Sophie's name did not appear on the list of casualties, his fears did not diminish. He knew that the lack of news did not mean that Sophie was necessarily safe. That she might still be struggling, or that for some reason she might not be able to communicate with the outside world. He had to ensure that Sophie was safe personally.

Thinking of this, he took out his phone and touched Sophie’s number with trembling fingers. But all he heard on the other end of the line was a cold, robotic voice: 'Sorry, the number you are trying to reach is unavailable.'

Sending a text, he carefully tapped every letter, as he expressed his worries and thoughts.

'Love, please call me as soon as you get this message. I'm worried about you.'

___

'Where are you? Are you safe? Why can't I reach you?'

___

'I'm already on my way back to Cordonia. Please wait for me. Please.'

As the minutes ticked by, the 'unread' message on the screen was an ironic and cruel reminder of the futility of all his efforts.

Frustrated, he then tried to call Sophie's aunt and then sent a text message to Maxwell. 'Max, are you okay? Where are you? Have you heard from Sophie?'

Shortly after, his phone vibrated and Liam checked the text immediately .... only to see Maxwell reply,

"Liam, me and Daniel are at the Malic Hotel now, we're all right. But Sophie got separated in the confusion!!!!😢 I have been trying to reach her without success. I'm really worried about her.'

Receiving this update, Liam, although still anxious, was also relieved that Maxwell felt safe. He immediately replied: "Max, good to hear you're okay. Please keep in touch, I'll be back as soon as I can, and we'll find Sophie together."

Liam then picked up his phone again and sent a text message to Sophie's Aunt Bethany:

'Duchess Bethany, this is Liam. How are you? Have you heard from Sophie? I am very concerned for her safety.'

A few minutes later, Bethany replied to his message: 'Your Highness, I'm fine, but Sophie hasn't been heard from since the ceremony. I am also anxiously awaiting her contact. Please try to not worry, I'm sure she will be all right'

Liam's heart sank to rock bottom as he closed his eyes, silently praying that she would be found safe and unharmed. At the same time, he also felt a deep sorrow for all the innocent victims of the attack. He understood as crown prince, he had the responsibility and obligation, along with his father, to ensure the security of the country and its people. This attack was an acute test of his leadership.

University of Cordonia, Capital

As Sophie wandered aimlessly through the maze of people, her eyes welled up. The adrenaline of an earlier escape from the auditorium faded and she felt more sadness, fear and heartache than she had ever felt before. For a moment, she could not control her emotions and tears ran down her cheeks. How she wished it all had been a bad dream, that she would wake up and find that it had all been a false alarm.

An hour later, Sophie and other surviving students and guests were evacuated in an orderly manner to a hotel outside of the campus, the Malic Hotel. The hotel was temporarily requisitioned as an emergency shelter and was surrounded by police and security personnel to ensure internal safety and order. But even so, there was an indescribable tension and unease still in the air.

Sophie had been assigned to room 302. The moment she stepped into her hotel room; Sophie could finally catch her breath. She sat wearily on the edge of the bed, looking out of the window with empty eyes, but her mood could not be calmed. She was eager to know more about what happened at the graduation, especially the mysterious men in black masks, their identity, purpose and why they were there; all of these became lingering questions in her mind.

She instinctively wanted to turn on her phone, hoping to find some clue or news report that would at least give her a sense of what had happened. But reality threw icy water at her - her phone screen was broken and riddled with cracks. She quickly pressed the power button, but the screen only flickered a few times, and then no longer responded. Sophie's eyes flashed with despair, as her contact with the outside world was completely cut off.

Thoughts came like a flood. She missed her Aunt Bethany, who supported her no matter what she was going through, who gave her endless warmth and encouragement, and who always made her feel at home in Cordonia. At the same time, she missed her horse, Marabelle. Every time she mounted Marabelle's back and galloped across the wide fields of Ramsford, all her troubles seemed to go away with the wind. Marabelle's eyes were always full of trust and loyalty, and there was a tacit understanding between them without words. How she wished now that she could feel the freedom and joy of running with Marabelle again.

But most of all, she missed Liam. In this unknown and dangerous moment, how she wished he could be with her, give her support and comfort. Liam, the man she was in love with, who gave her strength. She had never been so impatient to see him, to feel safe in his arms.

Now, however, she could only face all this alone; tears in her eyes had slipped down once again. In addition to missing Liam, Sophie's mind was filled with anxiety about the attack. She did not know how many people had been injured or even killed in the attack; whether Candy and Tom would get better, or what was going on with Maxwell and Daniel. They were her friends and family, and their safety stuck with her. She prayed silently that they would be safe.

Amidst this anxiety, there was so many questions. Who were those men in black at the graduation? Why would they target innocent students? What is the purpose behind this attack?

What puzzled her even more was the emblem of the earth and the baby. What does it mean? What has it got to do with the attack?

Her mind was full of confusion and uneasiness, questions swirled with no answers in sight, leaving her breathless. She tried to piece together every detail of the night in her mind, hoping to remember a clue or an answer. But the images were fragmented, leaving her unable to grasp and put together any useful information.

"Liam ..." Sophia muttered under her breath. She recalled what Liam had said about what he had experienced as a young prince and the memories of an assassination attempt that had fear cutting through his heart like a sharp blade.

Exhaustion came flooding in, overwhelming all her thoughts and feelings. Sophie lay in bed, breathing smoothly and deeply, and her body relaxed, as if all her worries and pain had been temporarily released at that moment. She drifted off to sleep with all her doubts, uneasiness, sadness, and longing for Liam.

The Royal Palace, Cordonia

The press was relentless. Inside the throne room, King Constantine stood stoically, as members of the press core demanded answers about the campus attack. Constantine cleared his throat and addressed the press directly and with the assurance of his years of reign and released a statement:

“At this dark hour, I stand before you with profound grief and pain in my heart. Like many of you, I am mourning the lives lost today, and we pray for the wounded to make a full recovery.

While we grieve the senseless violence that struck our country, we are also furious with the loss and sorrow brought on by those responsible for this evil act. We cannot and will not tolerate the murder and harming of innocent lives simply because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Those who commit such unspeakable acts will be held accountable and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the crown.”

Stepping down from the dais, Constantine was at once escorted by his royal guard out of the throne room. He looked visibly shaken and gripped his cane, trying to stand straight and upright.

Constantine's face was pale, and his eyes were filled with deep sorrow, his elderly face looked worn. But he refused to shed tears, still maintaining his dignified manner, while in public.

Lawrence, his personal guard, moved quickly to his side, “Your Majesty, the Royal jet has just landed with your son.”

Malic Motor Hotel, temporary safe house, University of Cordonia

The second group of surviving students were transported to the Malic hotel in orderly batches by the police in the pre-dawn night. The bright lights in the lobby could not hide the tension and in these in the air. Police officers, security personnel and medical staff were busy shuttling through the hallways to ensure that every student was properly accommodated.

The noise of footsteps and a murmur of conversation broke the sounds of the night. Sophie woke up, opened her eyes slightly, and through a gap in the half-closed curtains. She saw several figures hurrying along the corridor, as if new survivors had been brought in. She got up and dressed. Soon the door was gently opened, and a figure slowly entered the room. It was a girl about Sophie's age, a little wobbly in her step, visibly shaken by the night's horror and still reeling from the shock.

"Hey, um ... excuse me. I was assigned to this room. Is it okay if I come in?" The girl's voice was small and trembling, and her eyes were slightly timid.

Sophie at once stood up and smiled back, "Hello, come on in." The girl came closer, and Sophie could see her face. She had an East Asian face, long deep brown hair, and large black eyes full of fear and confusion, as if she had just woken up from a nightmare.

The girl said softly, "thank you, my name is Hana. What happened tonight was terrible ..."

Sophie took Hana's hand and sat her down on the edge of the bed. "Hi Hana, my name is Sophie. I know we have been through the same horror. But it is all right now. We can talk together and maybe it will make you feel better." Sophie tried to sound calm and friendly, hoping to bring some comfort to the girl.

Hana gave Sophie a grateful look, and took a deep breath. She began with great determination to recount her own experience at the graduation.

"I was with friends and all of a sudden the lights went out and they were gunshots ... I tried to run away, but there were screams and chaos all around me. I really don't know how I got out. I was taken to the stadium with some people and stayed there almost overnight until we were brought here. But I never saw my friends again. I got separated from them, I do not know what became of them..." Hana wiped tears from her eyes.

Sophie listened quietly, with a surge of sympathy and understanding. She thought of her friends Candy and Tom, and her cousin Maxwell and Daniel, and a pang of worry filled her heart.

"Hana, I've had my own friends injured and go missing too. Candy's arm was hit by shrapnel, Tom was shot in the shoulder, and they are both in the hospital; and Maxwell and Daniel got separated from me when they escaped. I am really worried about them. But I'm sure they will be all right. Your friends must have gotten out safely, too. You must believe that."

Hana's eyes flashed with emotion and trust as she listened to Sophie's words. "Sophie, you are such a strong person. If only I could be as brave as you."

Sophie patted Hana's arm gently and smiled wryly.

"Hana, it's normal to be afraid in this situation. In fact, I am also afraid, and all the people who have been through this attack."

Then Sophie's tone became a little heavier, and she decided to tell Hana what she had seen. With that, Sophie picked up the paper and pen on the table in the room and drew the sign from memory. Hana's face turned pale when she saw Sophie's drawing; her eyes widened, and she repeated in disbelief, "you saw this sign?"

Sophie nodded, her words unmistakable, "Yes, I'm sure. It was a very strange sign. I saw it clearly. They acted quickly and in an orderly manner. They were not ordinary thugs."

Hana held Sophie's hand tightly, her voice shaking slightly. "This sign, I have seen on the news, but with what specific event, I can't remember. However, it is definitely unusual and must be the hallmark of an organisation or group."

Sophie's eyes sharpened, and she frowned in thought. "This is no coincidence. The men in black were clearly prepared, and their attack may well have been targeted. We must tell the police about this as soon as possible.”

Hana shuddered, her voice filled with fear and worry. "But... will that put us in danger? If they are really that powerful, will they retaliate?"

Sophie's heartrate quickened. Of course she was afraid. The scene of Candy and Tom being shot and wounded replayed again before her eyes. The blood staining their shirts, the pain and helplessness weaving in their desperate eyes. These were images that she could never forget.

Then, in her mind, the panic of people running away, their faces showing fear and helplessness. Screams, cries, and pleas for help made up the most tragic symphony of the night. Fires were burning, the smoke was billowing, and the whole evening was enveloped in despair and confusion.

But thinking of the students who had been victimized, of Maxwell and Daniel who were still missing, and of Candy and Tom who were still in the hospital ... Sophie took a deep breath and quieted her heart. She could not let her fear consume her. She knew that her friends needed her. ... 'If you do not step up, Sophie, this kind of tragedy will happen again.'

Sophie stiffened her resolve, her voice was soft, yet powerful: "No, Hana, we cannot stay quiet. Candy, Tom, and your friends are just some of the many people who were hurt tonight. If we stay silent because we are afraid, more people will be hurt in the future. We can't let this continue to happen."

Hana's fear was replaced by a kind of courage as she listened to Sophie's words. "You're right, Sophie. I won't back down," She nodded firmly.

"Sophie, I'm so happy to meet you." Hana looked sheepishly at Sophie, blushing.

"If it wasn't for you, I don't know what I would have done."

She touched Hana's arm and smiled, "I know you have determination, too, Hana." Sophie was genuinely happy ... happy to be friends with Hana.

Sophie hesitated for a moment, then whispered to Hana, "Hana,can you show me the news? My phone broke during the attack." She pulled out her cracked cell phone.

Hana nodded, and picked up her phone from the nightstand to open the news app. Together, they stared at the small screen, searching for news related to last night's university shooting.

On the screen, several shocking reports soon came into view. The mass shooting at the University of Cordonia had attracted widespread attention from the national and international community. The report detailed the chaos and bloodshed of the night, but also said that the police were fully investigating the incident and promised to bring the perpetrators to justice as soon as possible. As she read, she felt mixed feelings.

Sophie continued browsing. Suddenly, a marked headline hit her eyes and made her heart beat faster. --

"Crown Prince Liam Rys urgently ends his visit to Italy and returns home to respond to the shooting incident at Cordonia University."

She tapped eagerly; the live broadcast of the news began automatically.

On the screen, Liam stood in the doorway of the familiar white, shadowy auditorium, behind which the smoke had not fully cleared and live images of ambulances and police cars could be seen. Liam's figure stood unwavering behind press microphones.. He wore a black suit, his eyes were slightly solemn, but his face was more resolute and decided, that could not be ignored.

Sophie stared intently at the screen, every subtle expression of Liam tugging at her heartstrings. His voice came clearly over the phone, calm and strong.

Sophie's eyes were red and brimmed with tears. Her heart was racing, as she felt Liam's deep emotion coming through the screen. And then Liam's words turned to unquestioning determination:

Sophie stared at the screen, her tears spilling onto her cheeks. The moment she heard him say the words, 'Our Cordonian family', her heart swelling with indescribable excitement and pride; she wanted to run to his side and face all of this with him. However, this emotion was quickly overcome by reason, knowing that she could not expose her relationship with Liam, especially when there were other people around watching. She gently turned down the volume on the phone for fear that Hana would notice her emotional reactions. She clutched the phone tightly, as if she could feel Liam's presence and power in her hand.

"Sophie, what's wrong?"

Hana's voice sounded softly, interrupting her thoughts. Sophie suddenly came back to herself with a disguised smile, trying to sound natural. "Oh, nothing, I just didn't expect Prince Liam to be back so soon, it's only been a few hours since the shooting."

There was a subtle tremor in Sophie's words, afraid that her mind would be read by Hana and cause unnecessary trouble for Liam. She knew that at this particular moment she had to be careful not to reveal her relationship with Liam.

"Hana, could I possibly use your phone again? I want to send a text to my family and tell them about my situation."

Hana heard her words, a flicker of concern in her eyes. She seemed aware of Sophie's inner struggle and longing, but out of respect and trust, she did not ask any more questions, just smiled and nodded, "Of course, Sophie." You can use it whenever you need."

Sophie gave Hana a grateful look, and a warm wave came through her heart. She quickly opened the text messages on the phone, her fingers jumping over the keyboard, as she sent two messages. The first one to Aunt Bethany and the second one to Maxwell. In the text messages, Sophie told them that she was doing well and that they should not worry. She expressed concern for Maxwell and Daniel and hoped they were safe.

After sending the two texts, Sophie took a deep breath and began her text to Liam. She edited the text carefully ...

"Hi, Li, this is Sophie.

I'm all right. I am in Room 302 at the Malic Hotel at the university.

There was a shooting at the graduation, and I was lucky to escape. My phone is broken, and now I'm texting you on my roommate, Hana's phone.

I know you must be terribly busy and worried at the moment, but please believe me, I am fine and safe.

Don't worry about me. Just focus on what's needed right in front of you. I love you and look forward to seeing you soon."

The message didn't mention Liam's real name, and Sophie was confident that he would get her message. After pressing the send button, the words "Delivered" appeared on the screen. Suppressing her feelings, she quickly removed the text message, making sure it left no trace.

It didn’t take long for Sophie to hear back from Maxwell and Aunt Bethany.

Maxwell:

“Sophie, it’s so good to hear from you! Daniel and I are at the Malic Hotel too, and we are doing fine. We were looking for you, too. Just relieved to hear you are okay. We’ll talk more when we meet up.”

Aunt Bethany:

“Dear Sophie, I’m so happy to hear from you! Thank God you are okay. We are all so worried about you, but now we can relax. Be safe and we will see each other soon.”

After receiving notifications of incoming messages, the corners of her mouth cannot help but raise in a happy smile, a big stone in her heart finally fell to the ground. Sophie held the phone and re-read their loving words, feeling the warmth and support from her family.

A ray of sunlight penetrated a gap in the curtain and gently spilled into the hotel room, shining on Sophie's face. She gently closed her eyes, quietly feeling the warmth of the sun, the soft light made her very at ease, like a pair of warm hands, smoothing her fear and anxiety away. She was relieved that Maxwell and Daniel had escaped safely and that she could tell Aunt Bethany about herself.

And Liam will know that she's safe. Sophie found a trace of comfort and strength in reaching out to him.

"Thank you, Hana." Sophie smiled and handed the phone back to her new friend.

Hana took the phone and put it away, quietly watching it all, with a warm glow in her eyes. She may not know the story between Sophie and Liam, but she could sense that there was a deep emotion and connection with him in Sophie's heart. In this time of uncertainty, they were supporting each other and facing life's challenges together.

Cordonia International Airport

The Royal motorcade was situated on the tarmac in wait to take Liam and his men to the university.

Liam strode quickly and confidently to his SUV after his security detail had provided Liam with a report of all the victims and fatalities. Sophie's name was not listed, and Liam's heart remained uncertain, until he saw her with his own eyes.

His duty of keeping alert and informed for his country allowed Liam to control his fears of the possibility of seeing his beloved injured or worse. He fought against every fiber of his being to not burst through the chaos, with full disregard, to search for Sophie among the evacuated students. Liam, surrounded by his royal guard, Drake and Rashad, he walked onto the university grounds.

Drake, on the other hand, was not worried about propriety and cared for none of it. He rushed in and did not pay attention to anything but finding Sophie and Maxwell. He broke past some of the law enforcement and was met by a swarm of flashing cameras and press microphones.

"Back away!" He snapped, having to put his forearm up, and not relent. The flashing bulbs, whirring of camera lenses and questions being thrown at him was enough to drive any sane person mad.

"Don't you have decency? What type of scoundrels and fiends are you?"

An officer who recognized Drake, yelled, "settle down, everyone, he's an American friend of the prince's, stand down and don't crowd him."

On the campus of the University of Cordonia, even after several hours had passed, the chaos in the auditorium had not abated by a minute. Several police cars and ambulances, flashing their warning lights, stood by the side of the road at the ready. Police officers and ambulance workers were busy moving around the scene, serious and focused, although physically and mentally exhausted, but still stuck to their posts, to deal with the incident.

A police cordon has been placed around the scene to seal off the auditorium from the outside world. Liam saw the chaos and destruction ... and the despair of his people.

Liam took a deep breath, adjusted his emotions, and walked resolutely into the crowd and up onto the raised dais. The crowd grew quiet, and all eyes turned to the crown prince.

" Last night, our university campus has experienced an unprecedented trauma. On behalf of the royal family of Cordonia, I extend my sincere comfort and deepest condolences to all those who have been hurt and who have been affected by this tragedy. Your pain is the pain of all Cordonia. We will do everything possible to provide the necessary support and needed assistance to make sure everyone gets through this."

At this point, Liam's eyes flashed a subtle tenderness, that is his endless miss and love for Sophie.

But Liam took a deep breath and condensed his emotions and anger into a powerful determination.

"We will not sit idly by and let go of any of these terrorists. I promise that the Crown will use all resources in its power to track down the attackers and punish those responsible for this tragedy. We will bring justice to the victims, and to our people, to our Cordonian family."

***

The sky in the east gradually lightened as the night slowly faded; like the tide falling, as if in response to his words. A ray of dawn pierced the darkness, and the sun rose at last. The golden light slowly and gently spread over the campus, silently dispelling the darkness and cold; to bring a touch of warmth to the morning. There was renewed trust and hope in the eyes of the crowd. At this moment, they are silently praying, their hearts are full of deep hope: may such a tragedy never be repeated, so that the dead can rest in peace, and so that the living can find the strength to move forward; In the hope that the murderer will be punished, and there will be no hiding places of any crimes and evils.

As the Royal guard escorted Liam from the stage, Bastien approached with Liam’s mobile phone in hand.

“Sir, Lady Sophia has left you a message.”

Thanks for reading ❣️

@choicesficwriterscreations

@selina012

📌tags in the comments, please let me know if you want to be added or removed.

[jerzwriter]

Is COP that popular that it got a seperate fic masterlist on cfwc ? Not complaining , just surprised. Cuz it always have been TRR and OH

Hey there! Our guidelines are any story that gets 10 or more fics in a week gets its own list.

This is the first time that has happened for Crimes of Passion.

Thanks for asking.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

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[moominofthevalley]

The Girl with the Glass

Trystan finds a mysterious scrapbook. Emily has a deep conversation with a stranger.

trystan x emily

teen | wc: 2.5k | cw: mentions of grief

cfwc prompt: ‘visiting a holiday market’ & ‘the holidays won’t be the same now that they’re gone’

a/n: happy holidays, everyone! this drabble is inspired by an influx of things – mostly my favorite film, “amélie,” if you couldn’t tell by the title. (which, of course, is not-so-subtle-symbolism). enjoy! ♡

“It’s your turn, Trystan!” 

Snow sprinkled downwards, little husks of angels drooping to the wintry ground. Crowds of faces walked the busy New York streets, surrounded by shiny knickknacks and dusty clothes. Cheeks were stained pink, and lips curled upwards in the holiday spirit. Trystan urged out a cocky grin, arms around Emily’s waist. 

“Is it, now?” 

“Yes, it is! I’ll go and get something for us to eat.” 

Trystan pecked her forehead, whispering, “Do something good!” before disappearing into the crowd. He grew fond of these new habits of love, searching for a trinket to take back to their hearth. 

It was a silly tradition, but a tradition nonetheless. It began with a scratched Pierrot figurine Emily bought from a vintage shop. Ivory skin and porcelain eyes, and a black-and-white costume with a frilled collar. Like some haunted elf on the shelf, the clown explored the apartment all by itself – according to Trystan, at least. The second well-loved piece was a gift from Marguerite: a brass ladybug ashtray. Neither Emily nor Trystan smoked, though the aureate bug was far too interesting to be thrown away. The most recent find was a print of Renoir’s The Luncheon of the Boating Party Emily purchased from a local art gallery. Both of them adored it; the celebration of warmth and good company, the splendid wines and fruits, calmness and beauty in the mundane. Drinks and company aside, Emily was far more fascinated with the girl with the glass. A sullen woman drinking wine in a sea of chatting strangers.

It was Trystan’s turn, and he was keen on finding an old book of sorts. He insisted on a leather novel of yellowed papers and annotated lines, with intricate Victorian details along the spine. Trystan paused, exhilarated at the antique booth before him. Forgotten scrapbooks, noir polaroids, rotten thrown-away cameras, and fringed lamps cornered him with an enticement to explore. 

Emily wandered around the opposite side of the market, searching for food vendors. A strange harmony bubbled inside her; a soft scent, a beam from the clouded sun. She breathed in the scent of chestnuts and red wine, a wintry chill slipping through her bones. Silver bells danced in the December wind, faces greeting each other with a blissful smile. It was a perfect moment, a painting from her own eyes. 

On the sidewalk stood a white-haired woman in a vibrant Christmas sweater, her cane tapping the frozen ground. Breaths escaped her parted lips in subtle clouds of white. Trystan’s words repeated in Emily’s head, a determination settling within her. This was peace and contentment; the mundanity of a random December afternoon. 

“Excuse me, ma’am, do you need help?” 

“Yes, please!” 

“Careful of the curb, here we go!”

The woman held onto the cane, her other hand wrapped around Emily’s. Her heart burst at the scene developing around her. Laughs and joyous days echoed around her, the wind so sweet she gulped for more. 

“Hear that? That’s a florist laughing, he has crinkly eyes! A booth that smells like eucalyptus and rose is selling crystals and botanical postcards. The food truck across them is selling lollipops and hot cocoa for children. A farmer’s booth has rows of persimmons, oranges, and tangerines. Next to the fruits, a baby is watching her dad throw his hat in the air. We’re at the end of the market, there’s a bookstore and a vinyl shop in front of us. I’ll leave you here, goodbye!” 

The elderly woman struck out a pleased laugh, touched by moments folding around her. Memories of today fell like dominoes, scattering about like new snow. Her cheeks shined pink as Emily cradled her hand, stilling the woman’s trembling fingers. 

“Have a good day,” She whispered before walking off. 

“Wait,” The woman called out, “Are you hungry? Let me get you something to eat!” * * * *

Emily and the white-haired woman split an orange and two empanadas on a quiet bench. Emily, of course, peeled the oranges in thirds, ignoring the pith underneath her nails. 

Familiarity struck her as she handed the woman an orange. Her father’s willow-leaved eyes resembled the stranger’s. Perhaps in another life, Jimmy Rose grew old and never walked the grounds of Box Thirty-Two. To breathe with wrinkled skin and grey hairs, lines creasing about his lips and forehead.  

“What’s your name?”

“Diana.” 

“I’m Emily,” she hid the third orange wedge in her coat pocket, “Do you like the food?” 

“I love it,” Diana grinned, “God, that vendor was beautiful, wasn’t she?” 

Emily gulped, taken aback, “How could you tell?” 

The other woman laughed and patted her lap, “Partial blindness. I can only see things if I’m up close.” 

“Oh!” Emily blushed awkwardly, “I’m sorry – I didn’t-” 

“Don’t worry.” 

“But, er, yes, the vendor was beautiful.” 

Diana perked up, casting an amused grin, “Are you a lesbian?” 

“Bisexual. My partner wanted to check this market out. He’s looking for…I dunno, some trinket to take home, and I told him I’d get us some food. Are you…also…?” 

Diana nodded. 

“How old are you?” 

“Sixty-eight. And you?” 

“Twenty-eight,” Diana winced. 

“Don’t worry, it does get better.” 

Emily shrugged, unconvinced. Her bones were brittle as if made of glass, jaded memories of Drakovia hitting her like violent waves against a sandy beach. Grief thrashed inside her head so intensely she’d wake up in the night, begging for air. There was avoiding it, no going under or over it. Whether she’d acknowledge it or not, trauma and grief permeated her life. 

“When?” Emily asked innocently, her eyes burning. Diana scooted slightly closer, resting her wrinkled hand over Emily’s. 

“When does it get better?” Emily nodded, cringing at her childish question, “However long it takes. Eventually…it’ll pass.” 

It had been sixteen years. Sixteen years, and it had, indeed, not passed. She swore that she’d be done with everything by twenty. That foolish promise broke, and twenty-eight was no different than twenty. All that was left of Jimmy Rose’s legacy was a cruel memory. 

“It’s been almost twenty years. I don’t think it will.” 

Emily gritted her teeth, furrowing her fingers into her hands until they became beet red. With a blink of an eye, she was no longer the famed private detective who took down the Heartache Killer; but a tall child with no father. 

“Oh, Emily,” Diana cooed, “I’m so sorry. But that’s simply not true,” She murmured, struggling to find the right words, “Nothing lasts forever. Things pass, lives go on, and it feels fucking awful when you’re…stuck. But when we are stuck, all we have is each other. To get by, at least.” 

Emily’s walls began crumbling. Her hands instinctively covered her face, sheltering herself from the world. Diana granted her some space, moving closer to the other end of the bench. 

“I’m sorry,” Emily rubbed her face, grasping at anything to change the subject. With a pained sigh, she uttered, “Y’know, I don’t really like Christmas. I just–I’m just here because of my partner.” 

“I don’t either,” Diana said, “But my wife loved it. Every year, God bless her soul, she’d always cook the worst beef wellington ever!” Diana laughed with a familiar gleefulness, “I’d always eat it. I mean, it was atrocious and entirely raw, but she cooked it. Made with love…and absolutely no seasoning. I would do anything to have it this year.” 

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Emily whispered, “Her wellington must’ve made your day. My dad took me to Rockefeller Square every year until he passed. I always thought he was a king for that,” She chuckled, “I remember seeing it for the first time. I didn’t even know trees got that big.” 

“He sounds like an amazing Dad. I am so sorry for your loss.” 

“Thank you. I try to remember the good things about him. It helps keep his spirit alive.” 

Inklets of snow trailed down and stained their hair, solemness in the wind. Emily cleared her throat, pushing past the silence. 

“Can you tell me more about your wife?” 

“Of course,” Diana beamed, “Her name was Dani. She lived in the apartment next to mine. She was an amazing pianist - I’d always hear her playing through the walls. One day, I knocked on her door and asked if I could listen to her.” 

“Do you remember what song she played?” 

“Yes! It was, hm, ‘Camptine?’ No – ‘Comptine d’un autre été.’ You really should listen to it sometime.” 

“I’ll hold you to that…how long were you two together?” 

“Twenty years and ninety-eight days – but who’s counting? We were completely different,” Diana’s face grew serious, “And she was so different in the end, too. It’s odd to see someone go when they’re already gone and so, so small.”

Emily fiddled with her hands, jaws clenched, “I’m so sorry, Diana. I can’t imagine losing–” She choked on a small pit in her throat, “I just can’t imagine a loss like that.” 

“Thank you. The two of us had an amazing life. We really did. I mean – sometimes I still see her, even in little things, I still feel her with me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I see her everywhere,” Diana’s lips quivered, “I see her when it rains, and I think of the song she played for me when we first met. I saw La Traviata last summer, and all I thought about was her. Whenever I walk by a deli, I think of her God-awful beef wellington.” 

A glint of doubt shimmered in Emily’s eye. Uncertainty twisted her insides, striking with fierce ripples of despair and mourning. 

“Listen to me,” Diana said sternly, “One day at a time is all we got. So go on and live. But, when the time does come…kiss his forehead, rub his feet, play a song. It will be hard, and I don’t think it will ever go away completely. But I promise – after some time, you’ll wake up and feel, maybe not better, but as if you’ve adjusted to the pain of it all. And then it won’t hurt so much.” 

A surge of preemptive grief washed over Emily, though tears never flooded her eyes. The burdens of the past and deaths of the future weren’t gone, but instead quiet and still in her mind. Death is only a moment, a bitter soul slipping into the next room. Two words repeated in Emily’s head until she was content. 

“Thank you. I never thought of it that way…thank you.” 

Easy silence lay upon them, the words shared by each other warm in their throats. Flurries of unknown faces passed by, snowflakes tangling in their hair with ease. Spotting Trystan in the crowd of strangers, Emily greeted the mischievous smirk on his face, hands tucked behind his back. 

“Hey partner,” Trystan kissed the top of Emily’s head, “And who’s this?” 

“I’m Diana…and you must be who Emily was telling me about!” 

“Oh, yeah? What’d she tell you?” 

“Your deepest and darkest secrets, obviously,” Emily deadpanned, “...You hiding something back there?” 

With a smug grin, Trystan unveiled a wrapped gift. He chuckled, “You’ll see! I’ll show you later.” 

“Hey, I also got you something!” Emily grabbed the orange slice from her pocket, wiping away tiny beads of lint. Trystan’s face lit up, mouth agape. 

“I love you. Thank you,” Trystan pecked her forehead once more before biting into the citrus, “And it was lovely meeting you, Diana. I hope Emily didn’t tell you every secret of mine.” Diana laughed, shaking his hand. 

“Of course not. And Emily?” She whispered into her ear, “Remember what you’re here for.”

* * * *

“Do I seriously need to be blindfolded for this?” 

“I mean,” He pressed his hands tight against Emily’s eyes, “Yeah, you do.” 

Emily grumbled, rolling her eyes through the thick wad of fabric tied around her head. A week had passed since she met Diana, and all that was in her mind were her tender words. Emily fixed her pout, forcing a tooth-shining smirk as Trystan led her across the apartment. 

“The things I do for you.” 

“Careful, darling,” Trystan gently moved her away from hitting the coffee table, “And sit…err, right here!” 

“Can I take the blindfold off now?” 

“Not yet!” 

Sounds of scuffling surrounded her, and Emily grew curious. Trystan had been hiding something since the trip to the market. Whenever she’d mentioned it, he’d waggle a finger to his lips and utter gibberish. 

Emily scoffed, amused, “Is this about that thing you got last week?” Trystan snickered with a childlike excitement. 

“...Maybe.” 

The tussling stopped, and Trystan sat beside her. Resting a hand on her thigh, he grinned, “Okay! You can take it off now.” 

“Oh…my God!” 

A leatherbound scrapbook and a dainty film camera plastered with Hello Kitty stickers sat across them. Colorful children’s doodles scuffed the book cover, crayons covering every inch. Squiggly letters in blue and red revealed the title: RoSe fAmilY aDveNtureS. Emily gasped, flooded with faint memories of her father. With flushed cheeks, she turned to Trystan and gawked. 

“Trystan!” Emily squealed, “You found this last week?” 

“Mhm,” He bobbed his head, “I showed it to Tommy to make sure. He said he must’ve accidentally donated it while cleaning up the attic. It…may or may not have taken me a long time to figure out how to use the camera – but it works! I’ll hook it up to the TV, okay?” 

“I fucking love you.” 

Emily and Trystan flipped page after page, soaking in long-forgotten moments of Emily’s past. At the top of each page contained a laminated label. Little Emily as San, Halloween 2002. Trip to Luzon, June 2005. Fluffernutters and Chocolate Rocks! 

Stacks of polaroids were taped against each other, smiles and blissful memories in every photo. One quickly seized Trystan’s attention. ‘2001’ was written at the hem of the photo. At the center, a pigtailed Emily smiled widely at the camera, boasting her half-eaten yan yan. 

“God,” Emily grazed her thumb over the polaroid, “I can’t believe you found this.” 

“Me too. Maybe we can look through Tommy’s attic sometime. There has to be other books we can find.” 

“Can we look through the camera now?” 

“Of course!” 

Emily grinned at Trystan, warmed by his gift. It’d been years since her heart grew so fondly, a quiet ease running through her body. Her bones were, indeed, not made of glass. She was not brittle and weak, but rather brimming with love and sentiment. Pain and sorrow were in her veins, too, yet on this still and snowy morning, Emily was at peace.

* * * * A/N: This fic was both such a pain and so nice to write lol. I wanted to give a little thank you to @jerzwriter @lexicook74-blog and @logolepzy for helping me edit this fic! Thank you all so much for your feedback, I appreciate you all SO much.

Tags: @choicesprompts @choicesholidays @choicesficwriterscreations @jerzwriter @logolepzy @mooserii @starsarewithinme @jonathanmoores @shadyinternetblizzard @urcowboyboyfriend @lexicook74-blog @leahtine @jahrobin @icarusfallsforever @kyra75 @calisomnia (let me know if else would like to be added to my crimes tag!)

[peonierose]

Losing Game (3/4)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

Rating: Mature / Angst

TW: Mental Health

Words: 3,000+

Summary: Bryce visited his dad in prison and now he and Luna are oceans apart, but after a scare during his surgery he can only think of one person to call.

A/N: In case you missed the parts before here they are: Part 1, Part 2

2nd A/N: I went a bit off canon with Bryce and what happened with his parents, just as an fyi. Also thank you for everyone for reading this story and giving it a chance 🩷

Side note: I also made a playlist for Part 3, the previous two parts include a playlist as well.

Maui, Hawaii 

A few years ago…

Bryce

I sang along to some song playing on the radio, still pumped from a round of basketball with my friends. I kicked Kainalu‘s ass and ran laps around him. I still can’t believe I beat him this time around, he cursed throughout the game. But it was just a game between friends.

When I turned the corner to our house I saw blue flashing lights, alerting me that something was wrong. I put the car in park and slammed the door as I got out.

Did something happen? This is a pretty safe neighborhood. My parents made sure we had the best-equipped security system around. The best money could buy.

Several cop cars have pulled up in front of our driveway. I saw two police officers escorting my dad into a police car. My eyebrows rose high. Not able to make sense of this whole situation and what is unraveling right in front of my eyes.

I ran towards the entrance of our house where officers were carrying out some of our things. Such as computers, laptops, phones, everything, and putting them into evidence bags. I kept staring as if this was a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

When I wanted to enter our house an officer stopped me.

”You can’t get inside.“

”What do you mean I can’t get inside? I live here.“ I replied, with a sharpness I reserved for people who get on my nerves.

”Please Officer, that’s my son.“ My mom‘s voice came from the entrance. The officer looked me up and down and finally, after what felt like hours passed, he nodded and let me enter.

”Alright. He can enter. But don’t touch anything.“ He called out after me.

I got inside and my mom pulled me to the side.

”Let’s go to the kitchen.“ I followed my mom as if I were in a trance. My body moved, but my mind was somewhere else.

The questions kept circling in my head like hungry vultures ”What the fuck is going on here? Why are there cops in our home? Why did Dad get arrested? What did my parents get themselves into?“

I whirled on my mom, but she put her forefinger on her lips telling me with her eyes not to ask any questions that were burning on my tongue. Then she hugged me and whispered into my ear.

”Listen carefully, we don’t have much time. There’s a small bag in your sister's closet. Take it and get her out of here. There’s enough money that should last you for a while. Since I’m sure they froze all of our accounts.“

I wanted to break off the hug and look at my mom. But she held on tight.

”But…“

”Do as I say ku’uipo. Know that your father and I love you. Take care of your little sister until we figure things out. You hear me?“ My mom hissed. I nodded slightly. ”Good.“

We broke off the embrace and it’s as if I’m seeing a different mom. Not one who kissed my bruised knee when I fell from my bike as a seven-year-old, or who sang me Hawaiian songs when I had the flu.

She put her hand on my cheek as if she sought comfort from me. She kissed my cheek and a feeling of dread settled in my stomach. I let out a breath I’ve been holding in.

After a few seconds, I went upstairs. Before heading up, I took another look at my mom, tired lines had etched themselves into her bronze skin. I turned around, taking one last close look at her before I climbed the stairs leading to our bedrooms.

As I went up I looked for the bag my mom mentioned. Though Keiki is nowhere in sight. I sprinted to the closet and when I opened it I whistled when I saw all the cash, fake IDs, and passports inside the bag. Whatever they did, they must’ve had a backup plan.

I recognized a fake ID when I saw one. I used one to get into clubs and bars while still underage. This isn’t a simple bag, this is a run-for-the-hills, get-out-of-town for a while kind of bag.

I replaced the bag my mom prepared with my gym bag that was slung over my shoulder a few minutes ago. Making sure no one saw me swap the bags I went outside and looked for my sister.

”Kei-Kei?“ I went to my room, and there she was. Hugging her green sea turtle to her chest. I gave it to her last Christmas.

She was sitting on my bed. Scared to death if her tear-streaked face was any indication. Her dark brown hair was held in a ponytail by a pink elastic. I kneeled next to her.

”Keiks? Come on, let's go.“

She looked at me and I took her little hand into mine. Her hands were shaking and I covered them with mine to lend her some strength.

”Go where? I’m so scared.“ Her big brown eyes, so much like my own, were full of more unshed tears.

”I know you are scared. But I’ve got you Kei-Kei.“ When she hesitated I smiled and squeezed her hand.

”I’m scared too, Keiks. But why don’t we go to a safer place? Hmm?“

”Today is my birthday, Bry. Are we going to celebrate with mom and dad?“ She asked, looking up at me.

I closed my eyes. Shit. It’s her birthday. How do you explain this shit show to your six-year-old sister?

”We‘ll go to some friend's house for a few days. You and I will celebrate with some cake and ice cream. Mom and Dad will join us when they can, okay?“

”Okay. But I want a big cake. With mango flavor.“ She said excitedly.

”You got it Kei-Kei.“ I said and smiled at her. When she saw me smiling at her she smiled back, nodded, and wiped her tears away.

I put the bag over my shoulder and hoisted Keiki up, carrying her downstairs. She clung to me and I winked at her which made her smile. Officers were still taking everything and bagging it as evidence.

Damn what the hell happened? I’ll have to ask my parents another time. First I needed to make sure Keiki was alright.

Though from the looks of it, our lives would inevitably change forever.

Honolulu, Hawaii’

Present Day…

Bryce

With a start my eyes snapped wide open, looking left and right, seeing familiar surroundings, making me relax in bed. I reached for my glass of water on the white nightstand next to me, since my throat was all dried up.

I haven’t had memories resurface like this in a long time. Moments from when my parents were arrested. I’ve always wanted the memories gone and I’ve suppressed them. Guess they’re coming back in full force now.

I rubbed my tired eyes. When I turned my head I saw that Luna's side of the bed was rumpled. Though her side was empty.

I didn’t have to be at work until later in the afternoon. As I turned my head I looked at the clock at my bedside. The green numbers said 7.35 am and I just wanted to stay in bed all day, but I knew I’ve got to get my shit together and get out of bed. No matter how hard it is.

I rubbed my eyes again and got out of bed. I went into the bathroom to take a cold shower. Maybe that’ll wake me up.

15 minutes later I was dressed and ready to face the day. The first thing I noticed as I got downstairs was that the kitchen was empty except for Keiki and Evie sitting at the kitchen table talking in hushed tones.

After the flashback I just had, it feels weird to see Keiki all grown up now. As if you fast-forwarded turning Keiki 23, instead of 6.

When I entered they stopped talking.

”Good morning,“ I walked towards the coffee machine to get some coffee. Starting the day without coffee? Impossible.

”Morning Bryce,“ Evie said while Keiki kept herself busy with Cheerios and some mango slices.

Looking at me, her eyes full of questions I don’t have the answer to. I put it aside to answer later. Because as of right now? I don’t know what to say. Honestly.

”You know an apple would be good for you. Instead of all that sugar, you eat all the time,“ I said pointing to the bowl in front of her.

”How about no? Also, I have some mango smartass.“ She said and stuck out her tongue at me.

I grinned.

”Real mature Keiks,“ I replied and sat down at the kitchen table, across from Evie. Keiki's phone chimed and she went upstairs to take the call.

Evie scooted closer.

”Is everything okay Bryce? Luna is usually up before you. She’s usually in the kitchen preparing breakfast or ordering in and singing around. You know, since you and making breakfast usually almost turns into having to call the fire department,“ she grinned but her green eyes turned serious within seconds.

I chuckled but the sound was more hollow than rich with joy.

”It’s complicated. Let’s leave it at that Eves,“ I said, not really in the mood to hash out what happened last week. Too restless to sit, I get up and just lean against the fridge.

Evie got up too and she squeezed my arm.

”I get it, this is between you and Luna. And you want to solve this on your own. I won’t pressure you for details. But Bryce? You’re one of my favorite guy friends, well make that the only one. So if you ever need to talk, or just get wasted? I’m your girl. You went through a lot. I can tell. So if there’s something you’d like to get off your chest I’m here. Don’t bottle it up. When you’re ready we’re all here. For you and Luna. You’re family okay? You’re not alone,“ she aimed a watery smile at me.

I nodded and hugged her, not able to say more than that. She gave me another hug and grabbed an apple from the fruit basket.

”At least one person in this house eats healthy,“ I said teasingly.

”I heard that,“ came Keiki's shout from upstairs.

”Good,“ I shouted back.

I do what I always do when everything gets too much. I go to Manoa Falls when I feel upset. It’s my and Luna’s favorite place in the world.

Sitting there on the moss-covered stones and hearing the rush of the waterfalls? It’s like you’re one with nature. That peacefulness? Food for the soul. When I get there I let the silence and chirping of birds envelop me and ground me. My phone chimes with a text, my heart sped up and I think it might be Luna, but it’s just a Spotify alert. Suggesting a new song to one of my playlists. I unlock my phone to see which song it is. It’s , which must be for Luna she loves Maddie & Tae. I sigh when I lock my phone again.

Only too soon do I have to get back because my shift is about to start.

I got dressed for work and before I was out the door I heard Keiki calling my name and I turned around keys in hand.

”Hey are you guys okay? I could tell Luna was upset about something,“ she asked gently.

I nodded.

”We’ll be okay again. We’re just going through a rough patch. It’s all going to work out,“ I said and kissed my sister on the forehead.

She nodded.

I walked out the door to get to work. Hopefully, work will distract me from my problems for now.

Later that day…

Aubrey got out of the OR. Her brown eyes blazing.

”What the fuck is wrong with you Lahela?“ She asked me.

I leaned on the wall. Trying to get a breath out. But all that came out was a wheezing sound rather than an actual breath.

She noticed I was not saying anything and must’ve seen my face. Pale as a ghost.

”Deep breaths Lahela. Come on. You got this. Deep breaths. In and out,“ she instructed me and I did as she said.

My hands started to tremble earlier during surgery. Again. What the fuck is going on?

I tore the surgical cap away and threw it onto the floor. Tearing at my longer hair. Not seeing where the cap landed and not really caring at this moment.

”Okay talk to me. What’s wrong?“

When my breathing was under control again I looked at Aubrey.

I was breathing slowly, still not able to talk to anyone.

”I had a fucking panic attack. That’s what’s wrong.“ I said a heartbeat later.

”Okay. Just breathe and relax. Just stay here, okay?“ She said and left to give me some space.

This happened before but I didn’t see it as a panic attack.

I thought I just had some anxiety left from the day before when I talked to a family who were seeking answers for a surgery I couldn’t perform because it was too risky.

What if complications occur? They will blame me for it.

It’s a pretty complicated surgery and I didn’t know how well they would handle any complications or repercussions I told them about.

I sighed again. I didn’t even realize that I pulled out my phone and dialed Luna’s number.

”Hey B, what’s wrong?“ She said and I could hear other people mutter in the background. She must be at the store or something.

”Can you come to the hospital? I know we’ve fought, but I really need you.“ I said quietly.

”Of course, I’ll be right there.“ She said. It‘s as if our fight was forgotten.

I don’t even know how I got to the locker room as I’m sitting on the cold, hard linoleum floor. My head is resting between my knees.

As I’m trying to get my breathing and my heart rate under control.

Breathing exercises didn’t cut it. But slowly my heartbeat normalized and I could breathe freely again.

I didn’t know if she’d even come if I called her. After our fight, everything seemed out of balance.

But Luna is the only person I wanted to see. I just wanted to feel her soft touch and smell her guava shampoo. Knowing she’s close and I can hug her when my anxiety is high? Deeply comforted me.

I was still sitting like that on the floor when I felt soft hands caressing the hair at the nape of my neck.

I shivered and when I turned around I saw Luna’s concerned face.

”What happened?“ She asked and opened her arms for me.

I hugged her because I needed her. For the first time in a week after our fight, I felt good again.

It’s as if I‘m a functioning human being, who’s been deprived of human touch for so long. However weird that sounded, it helped to hug her. That physical contact from the person I love is exactly what I needed.

We barely talked, just exchanged a few words here and there. But it’s not like it’s usually with us. Jabs and teasing here and there. Laughter and kisses.

I missed her. I didn’t know you could be in the same room with the person you love, yet feel so lonely. As if you’re miles apart.

She stroked my hair and just whispered some lyrics of a song to me. I think it was ”I Have a Dream by ABBA“.

”My hands started shaking and I panicked during surgery.“

”Oh B I‘m sorry that happened, but I think ever since you visited your dad you came back differently.“ She pointed out carefully as if she wasn’t sure what my reaction would be.

”Of course I did. There are way too many emotions eating me up right now. I just needed to sort them all out.“ I remarked.

”B please tell me what’s going on. Please, I don't know how to help you if you don’t tell me,“ Luna whispered.

”I feel lost. Lost and sad and I don’t know.“ I admitted. I broke down. I wrapped my arms around her as I cried silently and she held me close, showing me she was right here with me.

”I’ll give you anything you want Bryce. I love you so damn much. I’d even eat some oatmeal.“ She shivered involuntarily. The disgust of having to eat oatmeal was evident on her face. She hates it. I laughed through my tears. She pushed some strands of my hair that had gotten longer out of my face and I squeezed her hand.

”Would you be willing to go to therapy? We could go together if you want. Or you could go alone. Whatever makes you feel more comfortable.“

To be honest I’ve been thinking of going to therapy for a while. I’ve been a wuss to go though.

”I’d like that. Know any good ones?“

Luna nodded.

”I do. We can make an appointment. And we can go whenever you feel like you want to go.“

I nodded and just kept leaning into her. I turned my head and looked into her blue-green eyes.

”I never meant to hurt you when I didn’t tell you I visited my dad. I…just don’t know…“

Luna took my face into her hands.

”It’s okay B. We’ll figure it out together. And if you want to spend some time figuring things out with your parents I support you.“ She said and after a heartbeat, she continued.

”I suffer from anxiety and depression. I know what it’s like when it’s getting too much and when I don’t know what to do with my emotions. When I want to scream and cry and just get out of my skin for a while. I get it. That’s what painting is for me. Maybe we can find something you can find comfort in.“ I smiled. Even now when we’re still not sure where we stand exactly, she tries to help and support me. I couldn’t love her more if I tried.

”I always liked working with my hands. Building things. I was always good at it. I once built a princess castle for Keiki.“

”That is so sweet. I bet it was pink.“ Luna smiled softly and I smiled back at her. If there’s one person who loves pink? It’s Luna. But it’s endearing and I love that about her.

”Maybe you can work something out with Adam?“ She suggested.

”You think he’d let me?“ I asked not sure if Adam would let me help with any of his projects.

”Of course. Adam loves you like a brother. He’d help you. Especially if he knows it helps you to feel calm.“

I admit feeling ashamed and mortified that my hands would start to shake again. Is something wrong with me?

”There’s nothing wrong with you B. Sometimes emotions boil over. It’s when you’ve bottled things up too many times. I know that. That’s why I’ve turned to art. When I create art it lets me get out some emotions I‘ve been feeling. We can do some painting together if you want.“

I didn’t realize I'd spoken out loud. I nodded, not able to look at her, afraid she’d see how emotionally exhausted I was.

First visiting my dad, our fight, and now this panic attack during the surgery. Maybe some vacation would do me some good. I‘m sure I can work something out with the chief of medicine. Alana is amazing and she‘s very understanding.

”I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my dad. I just didn’t want to share it because I was scared that if you saw and knew everything you’d…“

”What? Run away? B there’s nothing that could make me run away from you. No matter what happens. Sure I was hurt that you didn’t say anything, but I understand that sometimes certain conversations aren’t that easy. Especially when it’s with a family member you haven’t talked to in a while. But whether we fight or if we have a make-out session all day, a relationship is never easy. But we work on it. We compromise, and most importantly we love each other. Come hell or high water.“

I looked up at her and I could tell from the expression in her eyes that she meant every word.

She hugged me again and I simply leaned into her, borrowing some of the strength that she was offering. We sat like that for another 10 minutes, until Luna had a pained look on her face and I could’ve slapped myself by letting her sit on the ground.

”B not to be rude, but can we maybe go somewhere else? I feel a bit uncomfortable sitting like this.“

”Oh my god I’m sorry of course. Here let me help you up.“ I got to my feet and helped her up.

”Thank you. For being there for me.“ I kissed her soft lips, giving you that warm, cozy feeling as if you were coming home.

”Always.“ She smiled tenderly.

I knew we’d fought, but things will get better again. I believe that.

[mikaelsrose]

Starry Night

Pairing: Tyril x f!human!MC (Reyna) Book: Blades of Light and Shadow 2, chapter 3 Word count: 4000 Rating: T Warnings: emotional hurt Category: hurt/comfort Synopsis: Having reunited with most of her party, Reyna discovers the true extent of the traumatic events of the previous months. A/n: special thanks to @starlight-starfury for encouraging me to include Tyril speaking elven 🫰🏻 × Calanín - my light: elven word of affection, the elven equivalent of the Common language's "my love;" the elves believe that love is often fleeting, but the Light is constant, and the most precious resource they possess. Tag list: @starlight-starfury @cashweasel @watatsumi-island @lilyoffandoms @sophie-summer @lazypartridge @brycesgirl @agattthaa @secret-fungi @megas-choices (if anyone wishes to be added/removed pls let me know!) @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesbookclub

Nia, Mal, and the children had developed a routine, thanks to which the kids changed into their pyjamas, brushed their teeth, and were tucked in under thirty minutes. If one would take Nia at her word, developing the schedule took weeks, but due to eager cooperation the group managed to reduce the time from two hours to just thirty minutes, saving the guardians a considerable amount of time—time that they would spend reading, searching, and discussing the possible methods of rescuing Reyna. After ten minutes, Nia and Mal returned downstairs, having wished the kids a good night and slumped in the chairs, exhausted. Soon, the giggles and banter upstairs quietened down, and Mal breathed out a sigh of relief while Nia smiled at her friends, her features softened by the warm candlelight. 

“Can I offer you anything? Water, tea? We don’t have much, but I’d love to host you properly,” the Priestess chirped, already rising from her seat, but Tyril held out his hand to stop her. 

“It’s alright, thank you, Nia. Save what you have for the children.”

Nia nodded, while the elf rested his left hand on Reyna’s thigh, gently squeezing it in a poorly disguised display of affection. Her lips curved in a soft smile, and she vaguely covered his hand with her own before addressing the rogue before her.

“Lord Weasley of Riverbend, huh?” 

Mal smiled sheepishly and scratched his neck, blushing faintly as if he had been caught in a lie. “I had to improvise, and Riverbend just happened to occupy my mind an awful lot lately.”

“Gotta admit, you really nailed the accent. If I hadn’t known better, I’d think you were a native,” she winked, drawing a laugh from Mal.

“What can I say? I had spent an awful lot of time with you, kit.”

Nia joined the conversation. “How is Kade? I’ve been meaning to visit him, but there was always something urgent to attend to, and…”

“He’s doing just fine, cooped up in the library or in the royal gardens with Loola and Threep. He’s made the Master Librarian his archenemy, though.”

The Priestess chuckled. As Mal rested his arm on the back of her seat, a quiet yawn escaped Reyna’s lips and her eyes watered uncontrollably. She rested her head against Tyril’s shoulder, continuing to smile at her friends. Although she did not feel the true length of her absence, she had missed them, and at that moment she felt at peace. 

The idyllic atmosphere was disrupted by a quiet childish giggle coming from the top of the stairs, and the group's heads turned simultaneously in that direction. Mal sighed exhaustedly and rubbed his tired eyes before addressing the children.

“Guys, we talked about staying up past bedtime!”

The grave silence that followed his remark was soon interrupted by barefoot steps and the creaking of the old wooden floor. A frail, pale blonde girl stood next to Mal and whispered in his ear, her big eyes glued to Reyna. In response, Mal smiled at the child and nodded. “Do you want me to introduce you?”

The girl nodded her head excitedly, and he addressed his friend. 

“Kit, this is Nyra, she's a big fan of yours.” 

Reyna's brows furrowed. "Fan?"

“Mal and Nia often told us stories of your adventures! My favourite is the one when you ran after Duchess Xenia and fought her! I want to be as brave as you when I grow up!” the girl chattered reedily. “Can I ask you a question?”

"Ask away, Nyra," she sent the girl an encouraging smile, squeezing Tyril's hand under the table. 

"Weren't you afraid?"

"I'd be crazy not to be afraid,” she smiled. “Bravery isn't about not being afraid, it's about doing the right thing despite fear."

The girl nodded, drinking the words off Reyna’s lips, staring at her heroine in awe. 

“Now go to sleep, Nyra,” Mal rubbed the girl’s arm, softly pushing her towards the stairs. Before disappearing in the darkness, Nyra waved at the couple, and Reyna sighed.

“Said like a true hero,” Nia concluded while the men agreed silently. 

“It’s good to see you, guys. I just wish Imtura was with us.”

“We’ll find her, don’t fret, Rey-Rey,” Mal assured. The nickname made Reyna groan.

“Please don’t call me that.”

“How about Rey of Sunshine?”

Reyna glowered at him. “Mal, I’m warning you.”

“Reiny?”

“Oh, I like Rey!” Nia joined in the conversation, grinning. 

“What do you think of “Reine”? I think it suits your personality,” the thief continued. “What do you think, elf boy?”

Tyril, smiling softly at the course the conversation took, looked to his left at his partner, his eyes glistening with the reflection of a nearby candlelight. “I believe my answer falls under a public display of affection.”

Nia brightened up. “Aw! It’s so nice seeing you two together again. Tyril had been so miserable without you, Reyna.”

“Tyril, my man, I’d like to remind you that we were direct neighbours at the Palace and their walls are surprisingly thin, so you really shouldn’t be em—”

Tyril cut in, blushing. “Stop talking.”

Grinning, the rogue continued teasing, pointing to Reyna with a nod of his head, while Nia and Tyril grew considerably more abashed. “I see you already had a chance to celebrate.”

Reyna touched her neck, remembering the necklace of red love bites that her lover bestowed upon her the previous night, and bit her lip, slightly embarrassed. She forgot to cover the bruises in the morning as she was in a hurry. The Priestess intervened.

“Stop teasing them, Mal. They’re young and in love, of course they celebrated their reunion.”

In love. The couple looked away, uncomfortable with the subject, but Nia continued, oblivious to their discomfort.

“I’ve been meaning to ask before—” she bit her tongue, cleared her throat, and continued. “Who said it first? Was it romantic? I bet it was! Tyril always had a way with words and—”

“Oh, Priestess, read the room!” Mal chuckled. The redhead’s smile faltered as she raised her eyebrows in question, tilting her head slightly. The rogue explained. “Look at them! Elf boy’s about to turn dark purple, they obviously haven’t said that yet.”

Nia’s lips shaped into the letter “o” as the realisation dawned on her, but before she had a chance to apologise, Reyna intervened. “Alright! It was great to see you, but we should go. It’s getting late, and we need to rest.”

“True,” Mal agreed. “No offence, but you look terrible, lordling.”

“It takes one to know one, thief.”

“You don’t like my haircut? You wound me,” with feigned offence, Mal placed a hand over his heart, making Tyril roll his eyes. Reyna smiled at the exchange, but agreed with Tyril. Mal looked exhausted, the dark spots under his eyes and slouched posture explicit evidence of that. “Let me walk you to the door.”

Hugging Reyna goodbye, Nia whispered, squeezing her eyelids tight. “Please, don’t disappear again.”

Reyna rubbed her friend’s back reassuringly before moving away from the warm embrace. “I’ll do my best.”

“Your disappearance wreaked havoc, kit,” Mal admitted quietly, patting her back. “I know it may look like we just moved on, but there wasn’t a day Nia didn’t stay up late sifting through the Temple’s scrolls in search of rescue. Whenever I got a promising lead, it turned out to be just an urban legend. We—” his voice broke. In no hurry, Mal took a deep breath and moved away, his hands resting on Reyna’s shoulders. “We really tried, kit. I’m sorry it wasn’t enough.”

Reyna smiled comfortingly. “Don’t beat yourself up, Mal. I’m here, in one piece, am I not?”

He smiled. “I suppose.”

“Thank you for trying.”

Unpersuaded by her assurance, Mal nodded weakly, and before the couple took their leave, he patted Tyril’s arm. “Don’t let her out of your sight. See you in the morning.”

Strolling through the streets of the capital, slowly climbing towards the Whitetower castle, Tyril and Reyna grudgingly discussed the following day’s plan, in the meantime looking around for a seamstress. Despite the late hour, one of the very last vendors was still folding clothes in the town square, and being in desperate need of a more appropriate gear, Reyna left Tyril waiting outside. Patiently pacing around the ornate fountain, the elf studied a nearby florist when his gaze stopped at a bouquet of familiar flowers in the man’s hands. It took a bit of haggling and bragging about his title for Tyril to purchase the flowers imported from his homeland—black-petaled frilly sunflowers with luminescent red stamen—but he purchased them, and he could not suppress the proud smile on his face when Reyna emerged from the building with a paper package in her hands. He handed her the gift wordlessly.

“Oh! What’s the occasion?” 

“There is no occasion. These flowers are native to Undermount, we call them melissë anar’insil. They were my mother’s favourite, she grew them in our garden, and…” he bit his lip, blushing slightly. “And they remind me of you.”

“They’re beautiful,” she said quietly, awestruck. “Thank you, Tyril. But you shouldn't have, they look like they have cost a fortune."

"There's a possibility that the saviour got a discount."

A hearty laugh escaped her lips upon hearing the word saviour yet another time the same day. "Admit it, you like being the hero."

Tyril bit his lip, trying to contain his smile. "I suppose the title carries some benefits."

Chuckling, she climbed on the tip of her toes and pressed her lips to his for a short, sweet kiss. She could still faintly taste the sour lime lemonade with mint on his lips, the drink he claimed his favourite, the memory bringing a smile to her face. She thought of their first, and at the same time last, date—the day they partook in festival activities, roamed the streets of Whitetower holding hands, made love in a secluded tower, and ended up intoxicating themselves at a local tavern with Riverbendian drinks. As if reading her mind, Tyril’s lips curved in a knowing smile.

“Does the name of the flower mean anything in Common?” she asked, interlacing their fingers. Resuming their lazy stroll back to the castle, the elf nodded, yet he took his time with the answer, eventually smiling sheepishly. 

“It translates to ‘the lovers’ sunflower.’ These sunflowers are considered the flower of royalty in Undermount as due to their rarity only the wealthiest can afford them, and they symbolise devotion, loyalty, and adoration.”

Nodding, Reyna brought the bouquet closer to her face and took a deep breath. The smell was sweet but not overpowering, reminding her of the first days of summer, and the exact smell of Tyril’s bedchamber in Undermount. She remembered walking out to the balcony when he fell asleep and seeing the luminescent stamen in the darkness, thinking how otherworldly they made the garden look. 

“I can see why these were your mother’s favourites.”

“Their appearance is but a fraction of the reason for her admiration. Mother adored them because father asked for her hand in marriage with half a dozen bouquets of these flowers and had showered her with grandiose bouquets ever since on the most important occasions. She always said it’s a perfect addition to any confessions and talked very fondly of the day Adrina was born as father had the Manor’s ballroom filled with flowers,” Tyril reminisced, his gaze distant but a smile was playing on his lips.  

“I’d love to hear more about your mom, she sounds like a very kind soul.”

Tyril nodded. “She was. However, that is a story for another day. We should hurry, it will rain soon.”

The moment Tyril locked their chamber's door, the toller announced the clock struck eleven and Reyna plopped down on the mattress exhausted. 

"You don't have to buy me flowers if you want to propose, I'm a simple girl, Tyril," she teased, yawning. The elf flushed purple, realising how inauspiciously he crafted his words back in the town square, and smiled at her. "Duly noted."

"And if you want to fool around, just stay the word," she winked, unlacing the corset of her dress. "Not today, though, I'm dead on my feet."

"Ever the romantic," he smiled. As he helped her out of her clothes and into a loose nightgown, Tyril made sure she was tightly tucked in, and soon joined her, stroking her back until she fell asleep.  

People have a saying, one that Tyril overheard while patrolling the streets of Port Parnassus, just minutes before he first bumped into Reyna. They say that what does not kill will make you stronger, and during the year she was gone he prayed it was true. He hoped all this suffering was not in vain.

Yet now she was here with him and he felt everything but stronger. He felt weak, broken, undeserving. He couldn't protect her. It should've happened to him. 

He hadn't slept the night before—after he lulled his beloved to sleep, he stayed guard in case of the worst. It gave him plenty of time to look at her, admire the features that he had prayed to see again, to assess the damage she had suffered at the hands of… Of who exactly? She didn't want to talk about it, and he didn't push her. Overwhelming her was the very last thing he wanted to make her feel so soon after returning; alas, because of that choice, his imagination was running wild. His mind was painting the pictures of Reyna running through the obsidian desert, fighting the remaining Shadow soldiers, battered, aghast, and disappointed she had to save herself because the people closest to her had failed. 

Studying the fresh horizontal scar on her inner arm, Tyril ventured into a dangerous territory of fear-fueled theories as to what lay ahead. The Shadow Realm was an unexplored area, where unlike Morella they were on a hiding to nothing. Tyril did not doubt the loyalty and capability of their group, but they managed to win the fight against the Dreadlord by a stroke of fortune—had it not been for the Priestess’ sacrifice, the party would have lost at least two members, himself included. If the new enemy was indeed a competition to the Shadow Court, they needed allies. 

Tyril noticed that upon her return, Reyna not only possessed new wounds and scars, but also lacked that mesmerising glint in her eye, her movements were slower, and body weaker, not to any sudden or loud noises paralysed her with fear. Reyna came back different. Tyril would even risk saying that it was not Reyna who came back. Not the one he knew. It was someone new entirely.

The woman next to him took in a shuddering breath, her fingers gripping the duvet tightly. Restless even in her sleep, Reyna was indisputably facing the consequences of living through numerous traumatic events within a short time period without respite. Reaching forward, Tyril smoothed out the worried crease between her brows with his thumb, deluding himself that with this simple gesture he was able to transfer all her worries onto himself. 

Take the utmost care of her and relay that Father and I rejoice at the news of Reyna’s return! 

Against his will, Tyril’s mind replayed the moment of reading Adrina's letter. Could he truly protect Reyna? Without demur, he would give his life trying to ensure her safety, albeit such sacrifice seemed pointless from his current standpoint. If he was gone, who would protect her?

“I suppose sleep is not my ally tonight,” she sighed to herself, having woken up from a nightmare-filled sleep. Wrapped in their sheets, Reyna observed Tyril, carefully studying his back, the hair that cascaded over his muscles, the way the moonlight reflected on his skin and how utterly ethereal he looked against the starry night sky. He was sitting on his legs on the balcony, facing the city, unnaturally still. As concern gripped her heart, Reyna cautiously walked over and touched his shoulder. 

"Tyril, are you alright?"

The elf looked up, snapped out of his reverie, and his hand covered hers mechanically. "I was meditating. I'm alright."

As it dawned on her, she covered her lips with a hand, doused with a wave of embarrassment. "Oh, I'm sorry, that's— that makes much more sense than what I feared," she blubbered. She did not intend to reveal the exact reason of her concern, he did not need to hear that her initial thought was that he had been petrified the same way Kaya was. "I won't bother you any longer, I'll just—"

Tyril slowly rose to his feet and rubbed her arm. "It's alright, Reyna, I was supposed to finish a long time ago anyway. Let's get you back to bed."

As his hand rested on the small of her back, he noticed the dampness of her skin. 

"Do you do that often? Meditate?"

He nodded. "It's supposed to be only thirty minutes a day, but…" he sighed. "Once the feasible solutions were depleted, I started praying for a miracle. There was nothing more that I could do but pray, so I prayed for hours on end."

Reyna bit her bit as an impulsive thought emerged in her mind. "Would you pray with me?"

As the look of surprise flowered on his face, his brows furrowed, but his expression changed into a kind, encouraging smile within seconds.

"Absolutely. Is there anything in particular you'd wish to pray for?" 

Her answer was affirmative. "Do you mind telling me a bit more about your prayers first? I'm not exactly religious, and I don't know much about your gods, but I feel like it's the right thing to do."

"Anyone is welcome to seek comfort and guidance from the gods, you needn't be religious for that," he reassured. "We do not have many prayers per se as we'd rather engage in a silent conversation with the gods during meditation, but should one need a prayer there is a universal formula. I can't know for certain, but I believe the gods would look kindly on prayers for blessing or good fortune," he explained, gently rubbing her back as he guided her inside. As they made themselves comfortable on the silk carpet, assuming the exact position Reyna found him in, the elf interlaced their fingers and rested their hands on his lap. "I suppose one could also pray to nature, as do orcs, although I haven't heard of my kind practising that."

"I'd like to pray for Kaya, to put in a good word for her, so she can rest easily," she breathed out quickly, almost cutting him short. When his expression fell, she rapidly added: "Unless that's not how it works, then—"

"No, it's just— it's very thoughtful of you," he smiled, and Reyna breathed a sigh of relief. "If you wish, you may repeat after me, but it’s not necessary since you may find it challenging to pronounce certain words.”

“I’ll try,” she nodded and took a deep breath. As soon as Tyril noticed her shoulders relax, he began reciting the prayer, slowly, pronouncing the words clearly, giving her time to repeat. 

“Alcarvalda nostar, varyando o in nór nosyë, iqulmë lissë an vilissë o Kaya Duskraven. Cé pataro imbi eleni, nínion ‘nin gwannad lîn. Hiro hyn hîdh ab 'wanath.”

As he finished, the elf stroked her knuckles softly, observing her carefully. Reyna was on edge, that was clear, although he could not figure out the exact reason—however, as tears spilled from her tightly shut eyes, he intervened, closing her in an embrace.

"Do you think she rests in peace? That Xenia's deed hadn't influenced her eternal rest?"

"I believe our Gods are omniscient and just, and as they welcomed Kaya, they saw her for the wonderful person she was before her life was stolen from her."

She hummed in response. They stayed like this for several minutes until Reyna’s breath evened out, and a yawn slipped past her lips. Tyril helped her climb onto the mattress and lulled her to sleep, just the night before, telling her a story of Undermount society’s attempts to open the city to the world. "Thank you," she whispered. “I— The prayer did bring me some comfort.”

Two hours. It took only two hours for Reyna to wake up again. She sat up straight, her skin blanketed with sweat. Tyril stroked her back through the damp gown as she took deep breaths to compose herself. 

"It's alright," he comforted repeatedly, allowing her to rest on his chest and cry out all the emotions bothering her at that moment. 

But it wasn't alright. At that moment, Reyna could not remember the nightmare that caused her to wake up drenched in sweat and with a plea on her lips, but she felt utterly devastated and powerless, and no amount of consolation was able to calm her down. Her heart would not stop pounding against her ribcage as tears would not stop flowing down her cheeks, and the terror she awakened to deftly transfigured into suffocating panic that immediately alerted the elf. 

Fixing their position so that they were sitting facing each other, Tyril's palms cradled her face, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Reyna, focus on me, alright? Breathe with me, take as long and deep breaths as you can, and hold it in for five seconds," he instructed, feeling his equilibrium wane as the woman before him struggled to settle her nerves. The calming spell was ready to roll from the tip of his tongue when at last Reyna took a deep, shaky breath. 

He counted down the seconds out loud for her, time after time, until her muscles relaxed, and the body became heavy in his hands. The back of his hand wiped the drops of sweat off her forehead as he laid her down, back to the same position she woke up in, and kissed her cold temple, pressing his lips for several long seconds.

She hadn't slept well the night before, and that night would probably be no different. Rubbing her back up and down, he proposed to tell her another story, in a poor attempt to help her fall asleep. 

"Just hold me, please,” she pleaded. And as a devout worshipper, Tyril held her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, although his heart ached seeing his partner in pain. 

"Are you asleep?" 

Startled, Tyril blinked repeatedly to rid his eyes of the remainder of sleep. "No." 

“I want to cut my hair.”

The elf’s brows furrowed in confusion, his gaze focusing on the pendulum clock on the far side of the room. “Now? It’s three in the morning.”

“I need a change, and my hair reminds me of what—” she held her tongue. “Will you help me or not?”

Rubbing off the blur in his eyes, Tyril rolled off the bed and approached the mirror she was sitting in front of.

"Are you certain?"

"Just do it."

Visibly unstrung and beaded with sweat, Reyna sat facing the vanity mirror, holding back tears. Unconvinced, he took his own sword from her hand and gripped the hilt tightly. Several seconds and one skilful swish of the sword later, inches of her dark locks hit the floor silently. Holding her blurry gaze in the reflection, Tyril inquired further.

“Calanín, what’s troubling you?”

Reyna dismissed his worry with a shake of her head and made her way to the en-suite bathroom. “Sorry for waking you up,” she added before disappearing into the dimly lit room. The last sound he had heard before drifting off to a turbulent sleep was that of Reyna climbing into the ornate bath. 

As the full moon gave way to the sun, coolness to sparkling dew and thin fog, the couple set out to meet their friends, shyly setting out on a new adventure, leaving the turbulent night but a memory.