#dames and dragons: the weeping god

[franfalens]

starting yet Another relisten of dames and dragons presented by legendlark, my beloved.

i've just finished the first arc and i think there's something so special about the pairs who fall off the island together and how it kind of sets the scene for those relationships for the rest of the campaign, in my mind.

[unsoundnovel]

#unsoundnovel : oujia tabletop rpgs, the seven seconds of silence between the groans of dialogue as you shuffle through half-a-presses. your pinky ache—the pinching where it holds up the whole world in your phone, the gods’ and google earth’s last atlas. this is not real, this is not real—and that makes it safe, that you can scour the universe with just two thumbs and a handful of buttons. what is delusion, and what is real hurt? the weird kind of fantasy, the weird kind of anxiety dream, you can’t even explain to a therapist.

somehow pretending makes it hurt worse.

it still makes more sense than whatever’s going on on facebook.

carrd. a herbert sherbert (he/they, 25+, white and asian) multi-muse / video game / dnd / gothic writing blog. muses under cut.

general horror / gothic trigger / christian imagery warning. i also write soft things! i am made of multitudes and maxed out mediums.

BALDUR’S GATE / DND ( in order of preference for interaction!)

MINTHARA. bisexual, she/her. 300+. abandoned by lolth, absolutely.

LAE’ZEL. bisexual, she/her. 20+ (time works differently in the astral plane.) // from slaver to slaver. bow down.

ORIN. lesbian, she/her. 20+. // if you do not choose me, i will force your hand and cut off every finger.

LOLTH. bisexual, she/her. older than you could possibly understand. // still researching.

RAPHAEL. bisexual (with heavy m lean), he/they. devils don’t keep track of such things. // hold your applause!

MYSTRA. bisexual, she/they. older than you can comprehend. // still researching.

by request only : shar / ketheric / dame aylin / shippe / sisyphus. / karlach.

DRAGON AGE. (in order of preference for interaction!)

DORIAN. gay, he/him, 30. // does nothing by halves, except to push and pull people away.

ISABELA. bisexual, she/her, 40. // i have big commitment issues, and i often lie.

THE IRON BULL. bisexual, he/him, 45. // what’s better than an ex-cop? an ex-priest. what’s better than an ex-priest? a spy.

by request only: bubbles aka hawke / morrigan.

FINAL FANTASY (in order of preference for interaction!)

BARRET. bisexual, he/him. 35+. // can’t you hear her crying? i feel her. i weep with her.

GLADIO. bisexual, he/him, 22. // one of the best men. the shield, the sword flower.

LULU. bisexual, she/her, 25. // too young to be so old. i wear so many belts to strap me in, and keep me safe from a world that drives too fast and crazy. i am a test track dummy.

FANG. lesbian, she/her, 27. // i tore the sky down, and i’d do it again. anything for her.

ZACK. bisexual, he/him, 22. // haunting the narrative, i am still the hero of your dreams and the undead nightmare of my own.

GENESIS. bisexual, he/him, 27. // theatrical! insane! i perform for the back seats! i perform for god and heaven!

by request: lightning.

OTHER.

LESTAT. bisexual, he/him, haha! // prancing pony on amphetamines.

MARUKI. lesbian, he/him, 32. // god complex, mind control, i can make you happy.

BEATRICE. bisexual, she/her. // tear out its guts.

BATTLER. lesbian, he/him. // incompetent.

[sumersprkl]

I feel like if the party in Dames and Dragons had lost the battle where Maeri named herself “The Survivor,” the whole series could have slid into a very cool YA Dystopia kind of tone. Like.

The worst happens. They don’t hold Torvah back for long enough, he doesn’t stop to monologue, and he names Maeri for his own ends. He names her for what he needs, and he names her in a way that will distance her as far as possible from the beast gods, from the forces of nature, from Kai, from her mother’s power.

He names her “The Strategist,” because he cannot conceive of a better opposite for the wild and chaotic power of nature. He names her “The Strategist,” because Torvah alone cannot outthink every god and every mortal and every force in the world.

He names her “The Strategist,” and in doing so gives her the power she needs to resist him. He binds her with the same language he used to bind Falen, But now Maeri’s entire being is devoted to thinking. Thinking of ways in. Thinking of ways out. Thinking of ways around.

And the party is suddenly without their goddess. They have failed as guardians. They have failed in their purpose. Torvah has enough power to sweep the continent, stealing Slake’s home away like he did with Corbin and Fran and Laika’s. Perhaps Fran and Falen still end up lost in the void, and take the hope of breaking Maeri’s binding with them.

The ensuing parade of guest characters goes a little less like a series of divine fetch quests, and more like the gathering of a ragtag group of allies to fight against overwhelming odds. The guardians have lost the nations and the armies they had rallied, and must be much more covert, because Torvah has supplies and allies and spies around every corner.

I don’t know what the main party would do from there, but I do know that Maeri, perhaps without the aid of her absent friends, must eventually figure out that nature has a warfare all its own. She would have to take back her power as a nature goddess within the bounds of her new purpose: After all, what is the ongoing evolution of life, if not strategy?

[propafranduh]

“Here’s the thing.

I know what it’s like to be in love. It actually happens to me fairly often … This one guy that I was like really in love with he like fell off an island and I didn’t really care if he lived or died. Um… and…

I just don’t feel that way about you and we’re just both gonna have to deal with that.”

Cavetown wrote Sweet Tooth about the two to three of them. It’s just a fact.

[vsilas]

The Weeping God

@damesanddragons

[rowanllyrdraws]

I’ve started like 5 different Maeri paintings but this one is gonna happen okay? Also @damesanddragons I love you.

[zenniaphoenix]

I finally got my partner into dames and dragons and we’ve reached the weeping god and I cannot help myself. I love Maeri so much.

[laikamaeris]

It’s all about ascension, I guess (don’t put me to rest)

[6797968625078]

gallowtree radio, i am in eskew, mabel, the magnus archives, mayfair watchers society, the strange case of starship iris, tanis

critical bits, oh these those stars of space, rude tales of magic

ask any buddy, bad gays, cocaine & rhinestones, film critters processes, ghost church, girls guts & giallo, hey riddle riddle, i dont even own a television, if books could kill, leave that thing alone, levar burton reads, lost in the shuffle, maintenance phase, mumsy i had the most frightful podcast, museum of the vanishing dog, nice white parents, off book, random number generator horror podcast no. 9, singing bones, vintage lesbians, the war on cars, the worst bestsellers, wizards vs. lesbians, you are good, you're wrong about

adventures in new america, archive 81, ars paradoxica, blackwood, brimstone valley mall, caledonian gothic, calling darkness, caravan, congeria, dark tome, darkest night, down below the reservoir, dreamboy, elder sign, eos 10, faerie, girl in space, gone, greater boston, hello from the magic tavern, hit the bricks, it makes a sound, janus descending, kane and feels, lucyd, me and au, midnight radio, midst, mirrors, old gods of appalachia, palimpsest, shadows at the door, shipworm, spines, startripper!!, station to station, stellar firma, stories from among the stars, the amelia project, the big loop, the bridge, the bright sessions, the far meridian, the hidden almanac, the horror of dolores roach, the last movie, the left-right game, the london necropolis railway, the orbiting human circus, the orpheus protocol, poog, the silt verses, the six disappearances of ella mccray, the unexplored places, unlicensed, the unseen hour, the wanderer, the white vault, tides, tunnels, under pressure, unplaced, unwell a midwestern gothic mystery, weeping cedars, what's the frequency?, within the wires, wolf 359, wooden overcoats

campaign: skyjacks, dames and dragons, dungeons & dykes, fast times at d&d high, follow the leader, friends at the table, fun city, games & feelings, join the party, malevolent, neo scum, not another d&d podcast, one shot, playtesting, ready to roll, rivals of waterdeep, six feats under, spout lore, tales from the mists, the adventure zone, the broadswords, venture maidens

a podcast to the curious, arrow video podcast, daughters of darkness, don't point that horror at me, double a horror highway, eating the fantastic, the evolution of horror, the final girls, for the gothic heroine, ghouls on film, halloweenies, haunted picture palace, hello sidney, horror queers, hypnogoria, it's always halloween, last podcast on the left, the monstrous feminine, not your final girl, queer horror cult, screamqueenz, sleazoids, staring into the abyss, such a nightmare, surgeons of horror, switchblade sisters, teen creeps, the double shadow, the evolution of horror, the hp lovecraft literary podcast, the lost drive-in, the morgue an mtv scream podcast, the nightlight horror movie club, the scaredy cats horror show, scream queens horror movie road trip, the whorer, witch finger, with gourley and rust

beneath ceaseless skies, clarkesworld, classic horror stories, golden age horror, lightspeed magazine, nightmare magazine, podcastle, pseudopod, strange horizons, strange tales old time radio, the anachronist, the drabblecast, the hidden frequencies, the horror! old time radio, the thrilling adventure hour, the weird tales podcast, uncanny magazine podcast, widdershins stories, x minus one

1619, 36 questions, 5-4, a more civilized age, abolitionish, against japanism destabilizing japanese history from the left, alab, alt essentials, american hysteria, american vampire, anime sickos, annual pass, art horse, baby geniuses, bad with money, being well with dr rick hanson, beyond prisons, bitches get riches, black cowboys, blank check with griffin and david, bullseye with jesse thorn, by any means necessary, cerise & vicky rank the movies, citations needed, clementine fords big sister hotline, collider ladies night, comedy bang bang, coroner talk, dbt and me, dear clementine, decoder ring, decolonization in action, depresh mode, desperate acts of capitalism, drawing a dialogue, ear hustle, eat pray britney, ephemera, the empty bowl, face jam, feeling seen, feminist killjoys phd, the feminist present, for flux sake, folger shakespeare library shakespeare unlimited, food psych, full contact nerd interviews, glow the distance, groundings, have you heard, heavyweight, hella black, hidden brain, the history of philosophy without any gaps, hit parade, homestuck the internet's ulysses, how did this get made, how to proceed, hypothetical help, i only listen to the mountain goats, in defense of plants, in our time, indigenous in music with larry k, indigenous land rights & reconciliation, insession film podcast, inside jaws, introduction to marx/marxism, it came from the sea, it's christmastown, it's going down, justice in america, kill james bond, know your enemy, ladyhd, left anchor, lexicon valley, lingthusiasm, lit century, literature and history, literary disco, live like the world is dying, liz and alissa make stuff, love letters, mark and sarah talk about songs, millennials are killing capitalism, moby dick energy, movement memos, my brother my brother & me, mystery show, nancy, new books network, n*ggas eatin, nitrateville radio, no such thing as a fish, nymphowars, nytf radio, odyssey sf/f writing workshop podcasts, off book, ologies, on being, one song only, planet money, ponder and practice, pop chat, psycho analysis, punch up the jam, quaid in full, radical imagination, random tape, rustbelt abolition radio, sarajevo calling, sawbones, scene to song, sherds podcast, shut up and listen with heather matarazzo, the skillful podcast, sleep with me, smell ya later, song exploder, song vs song, spontaneanation, state of the revolution, stay f homekins, stop podcasting yourself, strong sense of place, stuff you should know, superego, the suspense is killing us, sustainable world radio, syd & olivia talk shit, synodus horrenda, switched on pop, tales from the reuther library, the 33 and 1/3 podcast, the allusionist, the art of process, the b side a film stage podcast, the beauty brains, the bechdel cast, the besties, the boring talks, the cryptid keeper, the dead authors podcast, the electro-library, the f plus, the fat lip podcast, the feminist present, the film reroll, the film stage show, the final straw, the flop house, the history of fun, the important cinema club, the jackie and laurie show, the memory palace, the native seed pod, the neighborhood listen, the paris review, the pictures got small, the plot thickens, the pod f tompkast, the projection booth, the purple stuff podcast, the radical therapist, the read, the schmooze, the skillful podcast, the suspense is killing us, the uncertain hour, the valley of the dolls podcast, the war on cars, the workroom, this ends at prom, this week in atrocity, threedom, ticklish business, tiny victories, trapped in treatment, true stories of tinseltown, twenty thousand hertz, unclear and present danger, underunderstood, unlocking us with brene brown, unspooled, vaybertaytsh, voices of the resurgence, vs, wai? indigenous words & ideas, we the unhoused, we will remember freedom, well there's your problem, white ladies in crisis, why are people into that, wise children, wonderful!, word of mouth, words to that effect, working class history, working people, wrestlesplania, yiddish book club, yiddish tales, you must remember this, you need to see this, you're the expert

gayest episode ever, gayv club, gender reveal, making gay history, making queer history, queer as fact, one from the vaults, queery, untold stories beyond the binary

all about agatha, amateur detective club, as my wimsey takes me, in gad we trust, shedunnit, the men who explain miracles

don't let's start, giants confirmed, so are they giants or what?, they might be giants podcast, this might be a podcast

[the-z-part]

The Z Part writes fanfiction!

I figure I should put all this in one place and pin it since I want my fic to be easily accessible and I don't want to constantly self-reblog.

So! I write fic on AO3 under the name TheZPart. It's all Teen or lower. Here's a selection of my work:

The Adventure Zone (all of these are very spoilers!!!)

Touche, a 100k high school fencing au. Everybody's in it! Taakitz, Magnulia, and (especially) Blupjeans. My magnum opus tbh

Eight (Candle)nights, a series of ficlets set around Hannukah! Very wholesome

The Maltese Duck, a comedic oneshot with noir aesthetics, about Angus and Mavis

Fire Lily, blupjeans hanahaki oneshot written to a prompt

Up In The Air, taakitz flight attendant au oneshot written to a prompt

Dames and Dragons

the fire's burnt, the wind has blown, the water's dried (you'll still find stone), a Lilia-centric long oneshot about how she's actually in love with Tenevine (but of course, Tenevine loves Loria, and also they're all at war....). Spoilers through the end of The Weeping God

Raffles

Material Girls, the Ides of March but they're contemporary American women, and they kisssssssss (contains the tag "Fingering (Metaphorical)" which is the best tag I've ever, ever put on a fic)

The Raven Cycle

One Spring Day, a tiny oneshot about Demi!Gansey. I wrote this in 2016 so it's not necessarily up to my current standards, but, you know. It's fine.

[skulljar]

ugh okay i'm a real big nerd for the dames and dragons soundtrack. 'playing with peril' has been one of my favourite songs from the show scince arc 1 and i just relistened 2 the weeping god soundtrack shfhsjsjnf im going crazy about 'playing with peril (drums lmao)' its such a fuckin bop oh my god

[yukiwrites]

Where Your Loyalty Lies [11/??]

Summary:  Kamui’s kidnapping didn’t go as planned – She managed to get away and ended up at Silas’ doorstep. They were raised as siblings, but she has always felt different; her fangs and red eyes and urges to run amok, what did they all mean? Would going to the castle as the Crown Prince’s retainer help her find more clues? Will the war between Nohr and Hoshido be the answer to everything?

Previous chapter <=> AO3 <=> Next chapter

___________________________________________________

Chapter 11: Aftermath

___________________________________________________

What followed was mostly a blur to Kamui.

"Those who have strength left, form groups to search for any fallen comrades -- they will need to be brought back with us to be properly delivered to their families." Xander ordered before the convoy arrived.

"You can throw the hoshidan bodies off the cliff, dearies," Camilla added, "there is already a heap of them down there, anyway; a few dozens more will not make a difference."

Xander flickered his brow to Camilla's orders, but chose not to disregard her words in front of the soldiers. Instead, the Crown Prince mourned his sister's lack of empathy silently, excusing himself once the bodies were disposed of.

Kamui stood there silently for the whole process -- she couldn't bear looking downwards to the corpses, let alone discern what kind of armor they wore under the grime, blood and dirt. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, despite the slow motion which her mind worked on. The dame saw everything happen, as though it all moved slowly and rapidly at the same time, leaving after images in their wake. 

Inadvertently, she joined the group of soldiers who were resting under a few trees, though she never once sat down or acknowledged any of them there; her mind protecting itself from further damage by hoisting itself up in the clouds. Even Kamui's steps felt fluffy and soft, as though she physically walked in the sky, while she breathed scarcely and unevenly in spite of the false calm.

"Humph," Richard twisted his nose once Xander came back from the edge of the cliff, "she abstained herself entirely from giving her men orders after the end of the battle. It was too soon to bring her to an actual life and death situation, my Lord. Look at her; she can barely stand."

The Crown Prince grimaced, glancing at his younger retainer. "Indeed, the shock of battle may have been too much for her to bear at the moment. However, she must learn what it means to serve under me -- under the Crown Prince of Nohr, a kingdom at constant war with its neighbor -- as fast as possible. May today's battle make realization dawn upon her quicker than if she had spent a few weeks under the protective wings of Krakenburg and Strömborg."

Richard's frown was deep as he moved his tongue inside his mouth, a terrible taste making itself present in it. "..."

Seeing his retainer's stiff shoulders, Xander shifted the weight of his body forward, resuming his walk back to camp. "She will learn, Richard. I am sure you will make her learn well."

"That will only depend on her, milord. The first battle always takes a toll on a fresh soldier -- their commitment to their duties will either waver or strengthen after it. I cannot teach an unwilling student."

Xander nodded, a hard expression over his face. "You are right. For now, however, let her have her space -- you can resume your bullying once we are back at the Castle."

"Hah," Richard let out a derisive snicker. "Not sugar-coating your words this time, my Lord?"

The Crown Prince looked at Kamui, his expression matching hers, "the battle has taken a toll on me as well, I suppose." He said in a low voice, handing the empty wine bottle he carried to Richard.

The retainer accepted the item, tying its thin rope on his belt. He remained silent for the rest of the walk.

Hours later, the cold sun hid itself behind Nohr's customary thick clouds, informing the soldiers that it was way into morning -- and that it was time to return home.

They needn't hurry back, though: They trotted in a fast-paced march, slow enough for the soldiers who had lost their horses or wyverns to accompany by foot, but fast enough not to be followed by the common man.

Kamui didn't ride back with Xander. Instead, she walked amidst the men who marched between the horses and the convoy, away from both her Lord and her partner.

She barely saw a thing anymore. Her body moved on its own, conditioned to following orders. Whatever her Lord Xander ordered, she would do it without hesitation, her mind shutting off any thought so as to preserve her own peace of spirit. And at that moment, her Lord had told them all to march back to Nohr without haste.

Camilla and the remainder of her wyvern brigade followed from the sky, though the princess' mount tried to keep as low as possible, its interest piqued by something amidst the soldiers. "Marishka, what do you see, girl? I can almost picture us slamming onto a tall tree and falling off if you keep this close to the forest." Camilla patted the large scaled head, trying to pull the reins upwards. The wyvern kept flying low, however, forcing the princess to give up with a sigh. "I suppose we'll need to train you better, hm? I can't have you distracted during battle like that again."

The winged dragon didn't budge, too interested in the march to react.

Camilla made a mental note to start over Marishka's training, wondering if she could borrow another wyvern for the time being.

Dusk followed, alongside yet another camp. Kamui knew she wouldn't manage to sleep, so she chose to keep watch for the night instead. She had to keep herself being useful lest the thin ribbon that sealed her mind ripped, bringing down the rush of emotions it had locked.

They arrived at Krakenburg Castle on the following dusk, being welcomed with cheers from the soldiers at the barracks. Princess Camilla waved at them from her wyvern as Xander nodded proudly, guiding the men towards the stables.

Never once did Kamui remember to talk to her men; neither to congratulate them nor to finally give them her permission to rest. She simply huddled herself against them towards Strömborg the moment Xander had dismissed them all.

Her feet walked at a fast pace towards the servant tower.

Then they ran.

"Lady Kamui?! You're finally back!" Someone gasped in surprise by the entrance, but Kamui couldn't remember who had that deeply accented voice.

She ran up the stairs, hearing the voice call her name with a worried tone. 'She was drenched in blood! Was that hers? Wait there and he would prepare a hot bath for her!' Were some of the things the back of her mind managed to catch, the rest of it promptly ignored.

She ran up and up, passing through her own floor and going to the one above it.

Kamui bumped into one, two, five shoulders as she mindlessly ran through the tight corridor, a lump forming in her throat. She could feel it -- the emotions she had kept inside for the past two days.

She could feel them about to burst.

And there was only one place she would allow herself to cry on.

"Brother!" She banged into Silas' door, throwing it open without waiting for his reply. "Oh, Brother!" She cried out, not noticing how she slammed the door close behind her.

"Kamui?!" Surprised out of his mind, Silas had just returned from his duties and was about to change. He widened his eyes with terror: his sister's clothes around the arms and legs were ripped in strange ways, not to mention that any hint of their original color was nowhere to be found, being dyed in brown and a dry red instead. 

Her face was pale, her eyes were red and her lips were trembling.

It wrenched his heart to witness such a terrible combination in his little sister. He immediately opened his arms, running towards her. "Kamui!"

"Oh, Silas!" She ran into his chest, the only place that had welcomed her tears throughout her life.

Kamui’s tight hug robbed Silas of his breath and would most likely cost him a trip down to the healers to fix a rib or two, but he didn’t falter. He dug his sister deep into his chest, feeling her usually fluffy, but now dry and brittle hair tickling his face.

Her bitter sobs were muffled by his clothes, but she couldn’t hold back her weeping voice. She hadn’t cried this openly since that very first time he had promised her he would keep her itches a secret.

It’s been such a long time; and yet it felt like they were back at that terrifying moment again. Silas’ chin trembled in sympathy with his sister’s pain, already able to imagine and picture what she had gone through. She had always emphasized how she wanted to win the war without killing needlessly, but the way she presented herself?

She had transformed in the middle of battle. By the gods, why did that have to happen to his sister of all people?! She was such a kind soul -- she simply wanted to know what she was!

She wanted to help folks who suffered just like her. Was that too much to ask?

The dame’s sobs cut through her own throat, which had been dry from barely drinking anything in the past three days. Her entire body trembled, heavy with the weight of her own consciousness -- she herself was actually overflowing with energy, a rather grim reminder of her beast’s to her: that she had barely done enough during that battle to sate its desire for destruction.

Could she keep her word to her Lord? She had sworn to him that she could control her inner beast, but- at what cost? To relish in drawing blood; to laugh as your crippled opponent dragged themselves away from you -- so they could to try to live another day?

What ‘shaking hands’ with her inner beast.

What ‘feeling in control’.

She relished in killing! After everything she went through to vow to herself that she would fight this gruesome urge, she just- she let it consume her! And it wasn’t something sudden, either! She had been waiting for the beast to take over so she could ‘prove herself’ to her Lord. She willingly gave her body to the itch!

Kamui had absolutely no right to complain.

Those tears she shed were ones of a hypocrite!

“Oh, Brother…” She bemoaned under her burning throat. “What have I done? Oh, what have I done…”

“Shh, shh, Kamui.” Silas tried to comfort his sister by patting her head, finally noticing how her deadly hug slowly brought him enough space to breathe properly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you.”

“No! If you had-” She lifted her teary gaze to him, then dug her face into his chest again. “If you had, you’d be disgusted by me, for sure.”

“No way!” He held her by her shoulders. “I would never turn away from you, Kamui. I’m your one and only ally in this. I promised to protect you and I couldn’t do it… So, I’m sorry.”

Sniffling, Kamui took a step back from her brother’s embrace, allowing him to button back the shirt he had been about to take off before she burst in. “D-don’t apologize like that, Brother. You haven’t seen me, I- I… I relished in the bloodbath around me. The beast kept roaring and roaring-” she covered both ears, widening her eyes as though she could still hear it. “And roaring and roaring… And I was… elated! I crushed a man’s skull and didn’t even… I didn’t even blink.” As her eyes widened more and more, she looked down to her poorly washed hands, the dirt under her nails feeling as though they were diving deep into her veins. “Hah, and before the battle-” she raised her gaze with a self-deprecating smile twitching on the corners of her lips, “before the battle I even thought- I even thought I could ‘get along’ with this- this disgusting-” she dug her nails deep into her chest, as though she could rip out whatever it was that brought her this much grief, “thing…”

“D-don’t hurt yourself like that, Kamui!” Silas grabbed her hand before her nails drew blood, squeezing it into a soft hold. He was at a complete loss for words, however. What did one say to someone important after their first battle? He could only remember their Master’s words about how they would need to kill more than they ever would want… “Oh, I- I’m just so glad you’re back in one piece. When I heard that you were suddenly called to battle, I was so worried.”

“In one piece, huh…” Kamui muttered bitterly, her hand lifeless inside Silas’ as she remembered the hoshidan commander’s severed head. That memory made her wince and uncomfortably turn her tongue inside her mouth, the burning tears welling back into her eyes. “Will I-” she stuttered, hiccupping a sob that was costing her so much to flow out. “Will I always remain hostage to this fear?”

Silas’ expression faltered, his arms immediately wrapping themselves around his sister. “No! You’re so strong, Kamui. So, so strong! You did so much through your whole life! Look back at your progress -- you can’t say you’ve-”

“But that’s exactly!” She squirmed inside Silas’ hold, pushing him away with a blunt movement. “That’s exactly it… I! I did so much; I overcame so much! I thought I had it under control! I thought I could finally get along with it! But now, oh, now!” She sobbed, tears once again flowing effortlessly. “It’s like no matter how strong I become, the beast just keeps on getting stronger alongside me! W-will I- Oh, Brother, will I be overpowered? Will I lose my sense of self? My sense of-” she hiccupped, “of responsibility…! This time, I managed to come back and hold myself on the vows we painfully took, but what of the next time? What if I-!” The dame hid her face behind both hands, her legs giving out as she slowly slipped onto the floor, her muffled sobs filling the stunned silence Silas was unable to lift.

How could he say anything to her while she was like that? The only words of comfort he could ever utter -- the ones that revolved around their vows and life of training -- only brought her more pain!

Oh, thy gods, why did Kamui have to be the one to suffer like this? If only they could have served together! He would’ve been able to be there for her at the time -- either that or she wouldn’t have been called to battle at all! Damnation!

The knight crouched beside his sister, touching her shoulder awkwardly. If he couldn’t bring her solace with words, at least he would do so with his hands and warm, familiar embrace.

Kamui’s head fit comfortably in his shoulder as he patted her hair comfortingly. She sobbed within the silent room until her throat was so dry she had no more words to utter; she cried until her tears had dried and her limbs were numb from kneeling for so long.

Physically speaking, Kamui could not shed another tear, but the burden within her heart was just as heavy as when she had first arrived into her brother’s room -- though now it was more bearable. The dame slowly pulled away from the friendly hold as she dried her nose and cheeks with the back of her hand. “T-thank you, Brother. I’m sorry I burst in without prior notice.”

“Nonsense. You know my door will always be open for you.” He sniffled, quickly drying the sympathy tears he had shed for Kamui. “Are you alright now? Allow me to escort you back to your room.” He said as he got up, extending one hand to help her as well.

Not noticing his hand, Kamui simply got up on her own, her hands still busy drying her face. “I’ll… be okay. Maybe. I think. Not now.” She sighed, looking down at the floor and only now noticing her tattered clothes. “Oh, I hope Lady Bithell made a spare uniform…” She spoke absent-mindedly as Silas headed to the door.

Once the light of the corridor shone upon them, they were surprised to see that there was someone waiting outside for when the dame would finally come out. “As I have said before, only the most accomplished are allowed to work at the castle, milady.”

“Jakob!” Kamui gasped loudly, blinking so as to get used to the brightness of the magical fire that lightened the corridors in its orange and purple glow. “When did you get here?”

The butler uncomfortably shifted the weight of his body to one leg. “I see milady hadn’t noticed me running after her.” He cleared his throat, making Kamui press her lips into a thin line in embarrassment. “I have prepared the bath immediately after your return, then I followed you here. I suppose the water has run cold by now, however. Also, Lady Bithell does have more than a few spares, so milady should not worry about that.”

“I-I see.” So he heard everything? She thought with a hint of shame. “Thank you for being so diligent, Jakob. You can return now; I know my way back.”

Jakob stole a glance at Silas, narrowing his eyes before looking back at his lady. “Very well, then.” He bowed respectfully, his smooth braid falling over his shoulder. “I am glad to have seen you return safely, Lady Kamui. Welcome back.”

Blinking, the dame felt yet another conflicting feeling tangling itself insider her heart.

She was now working at the castle.

“’s not easy to enter the castle,” Kamui remembered her Master’s words. “’s hard to be summoned to work there an’ even harder to leave.”

There was no leaving now that she started. She was stuck there with her beast gnawing at her conscience and the pressure of having to learn how to deal with it.

It terrified her.

It made her tremble, wanting to hide inside Gallahard’s mansion and never leave again.

But, strangely, very strangely, it also brought her some sort of solace.

It was as though seeing something that which had to be confronted right in front of her brought her the conviction to be able to stand up against it, rather than live in fear of whenever the impending doom might happen.

Hearing the words ‘welcome back’ as though she were in a familiar place -- and it would be, in due time -- made Kamui feel her sprouting roots to want to take place inside those cold, foreign walls.

Do not get her wrong; Kamui wasn’t feeling better. In fact, she could barely keep herself from shaking as she held her own arm in contained panic. Her heart and her mind were in a complete turmoil, as though someone had thrown a yarn ball down the stairs and hurriedly tried to roll it back together, instead entangling it and ruining it completely. Yet, Jakob’s welcome made her feel like she managed to find one end of the complex yarn knot that her insides had turned into.

Blinking after widening her eyes at her butler’s words, Kamui managed to sag her shoulders enough to allow a tiny smile to sprout on her lips. “Thank you, Jakob. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Indeed.” Jakob lifted his head, bobbing it to Silas in an oversimplified greeting before looking back at his lady. “Have a good night.”

“You, too.” She lowered her head slightly, inadvertently stepping out of the room when Jakob turned on his heel to leave. Kamui then turned to Silas, her expression still somewhat somber, but at least much lighter than when she had first arrived. “Thank you again, Brother. And I’m sorr-”

“Please, don’t apologize. As I said before, I’ll always welcome you. Are you feeling better now? We could talk the night away like we used to, if you want?” He blurted out, remembering how Kamui had begged for her family not to hate nor abandon her back when he had first found out about her itches.

Snorting, the dame placed tufts of hair behind her pointy ears. “Thanks, Brother. I’ll… be okay. I still need to keep on training with Sir Beaumont from tomorrow onwards, so it’ll be a, uh, thing.” She sighed, finally remembering her partner’s existence. “He’s really a stuck-up, just like Master said.”

Silas huffed softly. “Is working with him that bad? I could talk to him, if you wanted? Maybe so we all could get along…”

“That’s cute, Brother, but no, thanks.” She patted him on the shoulder, “I think I need him to be like that for now; to push me in the right direction. Besides, I dunno why but I’m sure we’ll get along in the future.”

“Alright, if you say so…” Silas bit the inside of his cheeks, crossing his arms uncomfortably. “Are you really sure you’ll be okay on your own? I can hold your hand ‘till you fall asleep…”

That stole yet another snort from Kamui, who slapped her brother’s shoulder with more force this time. “I said I’ll be fine! Though I could do with the extra supplies I asked Winston and Clara to send… I didn’t bring that many change of clothes.”

“Tell me about it.” Silas scratched the back of his head. “At least you have something… We’re lucky if our letters just now arrived home.”

Kamui groaned. “Ugh, and then they’ll still have to pack it and send. We’re for at least two more weeks making do with what we brought with us.”

Silas faked a pout, leaning his head on the door. “Woe is us.”

“Yeah.” The dame nodded, allowing the silence to stretch only so much further before finally saying her goodbyes. “I’ll get going now, Brother. Watch out for the looming threat of dirty underwear.”

“Hey!” The young knight blushed. “I also have a maid assigned to me, you know! That won’t happen.” He defended his honor as Kamui walked towards the staircase, waving with her back turned to him until she went down the steps.

Immediately deflating, Silas closed his door with a silent ‘click’, wondering what he could do to be of more help to his sister.

The water Jakob had prepared had indeed turned cold -- it was just as freezing as the lake she had had her first training session in. Still, Kamui welcomed it; numbness on her fingertips and all: she scrubbed herself thoroughly, making sure to dig her nails into the soap so as to clean whatever it was that was stuck under them as she tried not to think of its origin.

Once she was finally clean and into her sleeping clothes, the dame crouched beside her travelling bag -- although she had mostly unpacked the heavy luggage she had brought in, Kamui always kept a single backpack ready to go in case she needed to hurriedly leave the castle for whatever reason. In it, there were long-lasting dried rations, a dagger, a ragged but reliable pair of boots, a change of clothes, a cowl and the most important item: the expensive hoshidan hairpin.

It was the bag she had prepared to always carry during the trip towards the Lantanoir summer manor with the intent of visiting Kaze.

Kamui caressed the bag, her mind too tired to cope with digging through all of the luggage inside to physically grasp the hairpin. “Kaze… Today I finally had a taste of what you had saved me from. You saw all of that happening around you at such,” she felt her eyes burning with tears yet again, despite thinking she had cried herself dry, “at such a young age… And you still kept on and on with me on your back. More than ever, oh, Kaze, more than ever I’m grateful to you.” She leaned her forehead on the bag, hugging it as though she were able to touch her long lost friend, whose face was so blurry she could barely remember how he looked like.

Sobbing inaudibly, the dame dug her face deeper into the high-quality leather.

“I had to fight hoshidans, Kaze. I- I k-killed them…” She barely could say the word for a lump had formed inside her throat. “I thought I was prepared to fight; to lead. I-” she sniffled, “hearing that I will need to kill people I might’ve known in another life and actually doing it are two completely different things.”

Was that the reason why her Master had always mentioned death whenever he could? That when he said would get them used to not only the concept of death, but also would wish for it under his hellish training; did he mean truly getting used to killing? Kamui never once wanted to die during her squire days, though there were some close calls that might’ve taken her to the netherworld. Nevertheless, the more Kamui poked her memory about it, the more instances she found about her Master trying to prepare them for this first, overwhelming, fight.

The first kill.

Kamui could barely remember the face of the first man whose life she took, if she were to be honest. The more she tried to think about it, the harder she shivered, deep down to her very core -- and the more tears she shed.

She apologized over and over. To Kaze, to the unnamed soldiers whose limbs she tore apart -- to the men who died by her axe without so much as thought to those who waited for them back home.

War is hell, she remembered hearing more than once throughout her training. Even before it, too, while those soldiers were stationed at the Lantanoir residence. But it can change something.

“Change?” She sneered in spite of herself, hugging the bag so tightly its contents were almost spilling out of the seams.

As of now, Kamui could not see any change; only darkness.

Needless to say, Kamui spent yet another night without proper sleep.

She woke up to Jakob’s knock on her door, noticing she had conked out on the floor with her head slouched on the side of the bed while still hugging her bag.

“Milady? Have I at last managed to do my duty of waking you up?” Jakob welcomed himself in after Kamui’s hurried shout of acceptance at the same time she ran behind the folding screen.

“Haha…” Kamui laughed awkwardly, stripping herself of her nightgown.

“I have brought another set of your uniform, milady. Should I leave it here for you to change into after practice or should I take it with me so you will change onsite?”

Phew, Kamui sighed inwardly, glad that didn’t seem to have any problems with acquiring the new uniform. “Please leave it here.” Where would I change onsite anyway?

“Very well,” Jakob replied simply, a rustling sound indicating that he had obeyed her.

After changing to her training clothes, -- she hadn’t noticed, but Jakob had had it cleaned and folded behind the folding screen after she had thrown it on the floor the morning she had been called to battle -- Kamui saw that Jakob had already put the table, though not with the usual tea nor bread, no. He served her a very light vegetable soup.

The taste could barely be called so, but perhaps precisely because of that, it allowed Kamui to actually finish the entire bowl: it served to warm her body and comfort her heart -- it was as though Jakob knew that she wouldn’t be able to stomach anything for a while and went for a tasteless (perhaps that part wasn’t intentional) yet nutritional soup to help her through the following trial.

Meeting Richard again.

Kamui took a deep breath, hesitating to take her weapons, though ultimately tying them around her belt as usual. Although she still felt her stomach fall with the sight of them, she managed to keep them properly clean during the trip back -- thanks to her conditioned servitude, the dame had her time as a squire ingrained within her: the days when her Master would always yell at them to keep their equipment properly maintained would always be ever present at the back of her mind as well as deeply rooted in her body.

So there was no sight of all the blood they had spilled once she exited her room into the well-lit corridor. Her feet dragged themselves down the tower, though her body exuded energy.

The exhausted one was her mind.

Since there had been no word from Richard regarding any change of plans, Kamui set out to the lake once again, noticing, once she arrived, that she was the first one to do so. Cautious, the dame looked all around -- she went even so far as checking the windows of the surrounding towers and buildings -- in search of her missing partner. Finding nothing, she sighed, lowering her shoulders as she approached the tree under which she had pledged her weapons to her Lord only four days ago.

Was that a lie?

She had graphically explained how her axe worked to her liege, and yet when the time came to actually use it as it was supposed to, she faltered.

Were the pledges she painstakingly engraved in her body and soul nothing compared to the cold reality that was war? Were they nothing compared to the fire which burned inside her, wanting nothing but to consume one and all?

Her eyes were fixated on the spot she had kneeled on.

Clenching her jaw and fists, the royal retainer took out her sword, glancing at its sharp edge and glistering silver for a moment before quickly working on some wrist movements, twirling it around in many a jab that were sure to deal a fatal blow. She then took a deep breath, sidestepping as she practiced a particularly difficult twist she had had trouble mastering under Gallahard.

However, despite being something she had already mastered once, the dame couldn’t make the move properly and tripped on her own boots, falling on all fours instead -- her sword flying a few steps away as consequence.

Kamui bit down her lower lip until it turned white. Her shoulders trembled in frustration as she clenched her fists over the dead grass, pulling it with her once she got up to reach for her weapon. However, it wasn’t where she thought it would be.

Instead, she saw a pair of familiar boots once she lifted her gaze; then, when she lifted it more, she found that Richard stood there, pointing her sword towards her.

If she were on her right mind, she would’ve actually snorted at the scene, really. The sword she carried was more akin to a rapier -- meaning a thin, light sword -- which danced swiftly with the strength she didn’t appear to have. It also fit her well physically, since she was short and lean. In Richard’s hands, however? It looked more like an overgrown toothpick. He was tall and burly, so larger weapons suited him more than the short sword Kamui had gotten from her parents.

However, since Kamui couldn’t process anything at the moment, she simply patted the dirt out of her pants; never breaking eye contact with her partner, no matter how much his gaze burned and shamed her.

“Pathetic.” He said finally, throwing the weapon back to her, which she caught with one hand.

She didn’t even feel like retorting. Instead, she twirled the sword and pointed it back to him, assuming her battle stance.

“Nothing to say, hm?” Richard rolled his neck in annoyance, reaching for the sword he usually kept at his hip whenever he wasn’t in full armor to battle -- whenever he was away from his preferred lance. “Even more pathetic.” The retainer unsheathed his weapon, touching its tip on Kamui’s.

They started circling each other, either one wearing their preferred battle stance -- Kamui’s with her body slightly arched backwards with one hand up while Richard held his spine straight and clenched one fist behind his back.

The dame faked a thrust once, twice, three times before actually going for the jab, not at all surprised to see that her partner hadn’t fallen for her mimics while also managing to dodge her prized lightning fast movement. She was so proud of her speed, but look at him, dodging her with a simple sidestep.

Huffing, Kamui didn’t miss a beat and leaped overhead, much higher than his long sword could reach if he tried to attack her while she made an ellipse towards his back, using the momentum of the fall to jump forward, aiming at his tendons.

Richard, however, elegantly moved his wrist to rotate the sword in front of his legs, easily blocking her slash as she went past him, landing in a way that made both of their backs turn to one another.

There was no sound other than Kamui’s short panting -- that little exercise wasn’t enough to faze her, no, but all things considered, she was exhausted.

Drying the sweat over her lips with her forearm, Kamui stuck her weapon on the ground, lowering her head in defeat without even turning to face her partner.

Richard sheathed back his sword with a sigh, turning towards her. “Is that all that your resolve amounts to? Wish you to leave, girl? I’ll be more than happy to send you packing.”

Kamui gulped down the lump in her throat, wanting more than anything to be able to talk back to him.

But she knew she couldn’t.

Not in the way she was at that moment.

No, she needed to grow.

“I… am lacking.” She managed to croak out, clenching her fists until the nodes of her fingers turned white.

Richard slicked his bangs back with one hand, crossing his arms right as he switched the weight of his body to one leg. “I want you to tell me something I don’t know, girl.”

Biting her lower lip once again, Kamui turned to Richard with one fast motion, her head still low. “Please teach me.”

Narrowing his eyes, the royal retainer tapped his index into his arm. “You rely too much on yourself and on your speed. You tire quickly despite having more stamina and more strength than your usual soldier.”

Kamui simply nodded. She knew her shortcomings.

“You either think too much or too little -- see the previous battle for example. You were thinking of nothing at all during the first half, but all of a sudden, you started to overthink and froze while there was a sword pointed at your back.”

Ah, I haven’t thanked him for that yet, a passing thought informed Kamui, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to utter a word for the time being. Her throat was clogged with the lump.

“A rookie mistake, truly, though I suppose that’s what you are, so I will simply shake my head in disappointment.” True to his words, he shook his head while sighing, which actually stole a smirk out of Kamui. “So, what will it be? Will you have me and Lord Xander to go through all that hassle again to find another retainer or will you strengthen your resolve?”

Taking a deep breath, the dame finally raised her gaze to meet her partner’s. “I won’t lie: it will take me more time to get used to actual battle, but if you’ll have me, then…”

Richard tucked his hair behind one ear, tilting it to Kamui’s direction. “Then…?”

“Please, teach me. I want to get used to life here; I want to learn my duties and I want to gain your and Lord Xander’s trust. I want to help. But to be able to do that, I’ll need to be helped first.”

“Hmm,” Richard took one hand to his chin in thought, as though he were massaging a non-existent beard. “Humility is good, but too much of it will make you look incompetent, remember that. Lord Xander requires only the best beside him, so you will have to chip away some of that if you want to look the part of his retainer.”

Widening her eyes, Kamui felt her smile grow alongside them. She bowed happily. “Yes! Thank you very much!”

“There it is again, the humility. Tsk.”

Kamui felt like giggling for the first time since being called to battle, the string she had managed to untangle after Jakob’s welcome promptly straightening itself out of the mess of feelings.

As long as she had a proper goal in mind and someone to guide her while she was still inexperienced, Kamui knew she could step forward on her own in the future.

That did not mean that the path would be less thorny, no. Under Richard’s training, Kamui had to reevaluate herself and her own priorities during battle -- even though she actually fulfilled her duty rather well up until she froze at the Stockarres Abyss, that was her fighting by instinct; not consciously. To predict the enemy’s movements and put herself in second so she could be available to run to her Lord’s side at the quickest beat of a heart was no easy task.

There was also the matter of her subordinates: the dame hadn’t noticed at the time, but they were all stealing glances at their newest lieutenant on the way back, either expectant or disappointed in her behavior. Richard made sure to excruciatingly tell her every single expression they wore on their faces so she could face her shame instead of hide within it. He also informed her of another duty she had in store; one that she had forgotten amidst all that was happening: she had to be there to oversee her men’s training.

Looking down after managing to complete Richard’s training regimen for the morning, Kamui squeezed the hilt of her wooden weapon. “I’ll apologize to them so we can have a clean start.”

The older royal retainer threw his head back in a long and drawn out groan. “The humility strikes again. You need to inspire them, not make them look down on you, girl. Show them you have, ugh, something to look up to in there.” He made a dismissing gesture, raising his lower lip in mild disgust as though he could not see anything worth in there, but it only made Kamui scoff as she walked up to her partner.

“I’m nothing if not persistent, so I’ll make them accept me, one way or another.” The royal retainer puffed up her chest, unsure of where she got that burst of confidence from.

Unamused, Richard simply crossed his arms and raised one eyebrow, wondering if he could shame Kamui into taking back what she had just said.

It instead made the dame laugh and extend her hand to her partner, asking for his practice weapon so she could put it away, which he complied with in a swift motion.

“Good thing I will not be there to witness your speech.” Richard taunted, rolling his neck so as to stretch it after training. “The gods know I carry enough secondhand embarrassment just by serving the Royal Family.”

Kamui pouted slightly at the first part of his sentence, then perked up her ears at the second half. “What do you mean; are the Princes and Princesses doing that much embarrassing stuff?”

Blinking slowly, the knight simply looked away, scratching his ear with a fake absent-minded expression. “Speaking ill of my masters?” He let the silence sink in as Kamui’s eyes sparkled more and more, her feet forgetting to go back to the weapon storage to put away the wooden swords. “In any opportunity I get, of course.”

“Hah! Tell me!” She took a step towards him.

“Oh, but this isn’t it, sadly for you.” He used his large stride to outpace Kamui, leaving her quite a few ways behind with just a few steps.

The dame gasped loudly -- one couldn’t tell if she was faking it or not -- and quickly ran after her partner to press him for more details out of sheer curiosity. He never revealed a thing, however, which only served to feed the inquisitiveness inside of her.

Nevertheless, Richard had also told Kamui that he had been holding back some of his own duties while she was training under him, which were precisely the ones she had forgotten: he, too, had men under his command he had to oversee the training of.

It was usually better for a Prince or Princess to have a pair of retainers so the Royal would always be accompanied regardless of the servant’s duties. It wasn’t ideal, however, Richard had assigned a second-in-command to oversee the training of his subordinates during this year he had been Crown Prince Xander’s sole retainer so as to extend to the most the time he spent beside his Lord.

Now, with Kamui’s arrival, Richard would finally be able to go back to training his own men (he had noticed some of them lacking in aptitude during the Stockaress battle, so it would be a good opportunity to see what they were made of), though not until Kamui had finally accumulated all of her duties and gotten accustomed to the life in the castle.

Still, it would be good to let her get used to training her men every week or so days until she got used to doing it on alternate days -- that way, Richard would also be able to go to his subordinates every other day to train them, while Kamui would be the one beside Xander. Thus, the Crown prince would never be left unaccompanied.

Of course, Richard did not hold back in telling Kamui that he was absolutely not comfortable in leaving her alone with Lord Xander yet, though he only found solace in knowing that there was no way she -- and he said that with the most admonishing face he could muster -- would be able to do anything to Lord Xander of all people.

That made Kamui narrow her eyes. “Is he THAT strong? You saw and acknowledged how I have more strength than the common man.” She somehow felt that her pride was hurt, since she had basically relied on her brute strength all of her life.

Richard had to stop walking just to stare at her until she felt awkward, though she sustained his gaze. “Are you truly serious, girl? Lord Xander is NOT a common man.” Her partner replied matter-of-factly. “Still,” he resumed his long stride, “it would do both you and me good for you to hurry and finish your training so I wouldn’t waste any more time here, away from my Lord.”

“You’re the one who came up with the training regimen, though,” Kamui muttered in a low tone, though still loud enough for her partner to hear it. He simply let out a half-smirk and strode ahead to his quarters to change into his uniform.

Following closely, Kamui did the same, glad that the second set of the uniform fit just as well as the first one. Once she was ready, the royal retainer ran back to the common wing of Strömborg Castle, where the Crown Prince’s meeting room was located.

She would shadow her partner in his duties for the day: which meant that there would be many meetings to transcribe, file and organize while Richard also kept a close eye at Xander’s schedule for the day to escort him to and from the many places the Prince had to inspect.

The after-battle documents were especially abundant: there would be casualty reports; investigation reports on how the hoshidans could have gotten that far into the nohrian territory; an increase OR reduction of the most varied budget plans; countermeasures; fortification or annulment of this or that part of the army; more investment on watchtowers et cetera et cetera. Not to mention that every single time there was an attack, the Second Prince Leo would ask for an increase in the funding of his research over the hoshidan barrier -- if he managed to break through the formula, Nohr would finally be able to move from a defensive to an offensive stance in this war for the first time in maybe twenty years.

There was a lot of work to expect throughout the day, but before Kamui allowed herself into Xander’s meeting room, she hesitated. Noticing this, Richard simply went past her to open the door, almost elbowing her out of the way -- which helped her blink and put her thoughts back in order.

“Dame Kamui reporting in, my Lord Xander.” Kamui spoke in a low voice as she stepped into the room, allowing the door to close itself behind her with a soft click.

Without even raising his gaze from the piles (and there were MOUNTAINS) of documents organized around his desk, Xander hummed to signal that he had acknowledged her arrival. Uncomfortable, Kamui dared to step forward and stand just a few paces away from his escritoire, entering the prince’s peripheral vision.

“Um, my Lord, I want to deeply apologize for my behavior in the last battle.” She said it all in one breath, bowing in a perfect 90º angle, her fluffy silver hair falling on both sides of her shoulders. “I will reflect on my actions, so I ask that you’d allow me to keep on serving under you.”

Richard clicked his tongue from his spot behind Xander. The humility again, Kamui could hear it even without raising her face, which at least allowed her shoulders to sag a bit, though her hands were still cold and her heart was still thumping wildly inside her chest.

Xander put down the monocle he had been holding to read the documents, finally raising his eyes towards Kamui. She still had her head down, but she somehow could feel the heat and pressure of his gaze upon her.

“When I first saw you,” his deep voice reverberated through the wide room, reaching Kamui from all directions, making her jump on her own skin, “it was the potential you held to be a force to be reckoned with that drew me to you; your raw power.” He criss-crossed his fingers, placing his chin atop of them in an elegant movement. “It IS true that you did not meet my expectations,” he said in a level voice, though Kamui could picture him bobbing his head as he spoke, “but they are not broken; they are simply unmet.”

Daring to raise her eyes, Kamui met Xander’s serious mien. The Prince went on: “It is not an easy role, the one you fell into -- you shall never hear me say otherwise. I am thankful that you are aware of your shortcomings and willing to overcome them -- following that, I have only one thing to say: that I want you to sharpen yourself to grow into this role so you can aid me with the betterment of Nohr.”

Kamui’s eyes burned with emotion, but although her insides were still being gripped by the icy hand of fear, she felt a bubbling sensation gurgle from within her chest -- it was like the thread she had managed to untangle before straightened itself even further. “Thank you, my Lord. I swear on my honor as a knight that I will not disappoint you.” She bowed again to show her appreciation, swiftly raising herself so as to stand beside Richard, on the opposite side of Xander’s desk.

She was not better. It would take quite some time to get used to all of these new trials. Even so, the more she experienced, the surer of herself she became, though ever reminding herself of the beast that lay deep, deep inside of her.

Kamui had had a crash course of quick writing the past two days: she felt as though all of those hours upon hours she had attended calligraphy lessons during her formative years were all for naught since one would need to simply have a legible writing at best to be able to transcribe a meeting in full. Her wrist was hurting at the end of the first day, though after getting used to the stretches, she managed to do better on the second day.

Now, on the dawn of the third day after returning to the castle, Kamui would go oversee her subordinate’s training at last.

She still couldn’t stomach any food other than Jakob’s tasteless vegetable soup (she never mentioned anything about that, so he kept doing it the same way, thinking it was to her liking -- by now she felt too bad to comment on it, so she would bring that particular detail to her grave), but since it kept her fed and on her feet, she was thankful for it.

Putting on her training garment felt daunting that morning, especially considering Richard’s taunting remarks whenever he reminded Kamui of her men’s expressions after Stockarres. “Hahh…” The dame sighed before taking a deep breath to mentally prepare herself. She had talked big before the battle, mostly drunk on the ITCHING urge to prove herself; though despite all the weight in her chest, even now she was still confident that she could lead them well.

Their image of her was already bad to begin with, so it being slightly worse after one battle wouldn’t make much of a difference. She was Sir Gallahard the Watchful’s pupil, and this was no easy neither small feat.

She would get through them.

These thoughts managed to calm Kamui down much more than any breathing technique did as she walked down the corridors towards the still-dark training grounds -- they sat on the opposite end of the place where the lake she and Richard trained lay. The blueprint in her head solidified itself with each passing day, making navigating around easier and easier -- though she sometimes still had to stop at an intersection to double check her memory and, if all else failed, she would look behind her to confirm with Jakob, who would either nod or shake his head.

She arrived at the grounds with time to spare, though most of the men were already there, although either sprawled around or stretching or doing mock battles in pairs -- there was no true order, so they all did everything at their own pace. The moment Kamui was spotted, the ones who were lazing around begrudgingly got up, clearly unwilling to do as the rookie said, though at least complying in forming up to follow their duty.

Unbeknownst to her, Kamui assumed the imposing stature one again -- with both hands crossed behind her back, chest puffed up and chin raised high, just like her Master. Even though she had planned to, in Richard’s words, ‘use the humility card’, her body language went towards the opposite end of the scale instead.

She breathed in through her mouth so her voice could sound louder than usual, louder than her short stature seemed able to. “Although I do understand ya’ll’s lack of willingness to serve under someone as inexperienced as me, IS THAT the attitude you use when greeting your superior officer?!” She stomped on the ground, making it tremble in waves -- some loose stones from the nearby walls fell over with the impact as well, startling the men into a proper position. “There, now those are good soldiers.”

The men and women who had witnessed Kamui’s leap into the air followed by her bloody descent were the ones who were already up in formation the moment she had walked in -- they had SEEN how strong she could be, despite her lack of commanding experience. And they did not want to test it firsthand, no sir. 

Kamui slowly walked back and forth in front of the four lines as she spoke. “Before we start today’s training,” she glanced to her right to check if the bags she had asked Jakob to prepare were properly sorted, “I would like to formally apologize for my lacking behavior during the previous battle.” With her back straight, she simply angled herself to the front in a very short bow -- differently from how she had apologized to Xander by lowering her head as much as she could, she still managed to maintain the higher status of a superior officer while acknowledging that she intended to own up to her mistakes. There was no ‘humility’ in the sense of the word as Richard had said -- she was acting precisely how someone of a better position should behave when apologizing to her subordinates so as to preserve her image of a commander worthy of respect.

The soldiers who had slouched when Kamui first came in twisted their lips uncomfortably, having no choice but to accept her apology, though still not willing to swear their loyalty to her. Realizing that, but at least glad to have had that burden out of her chest, Kamui lightly lifted her gaze to look in the eyes of every one of her subordinates she could (that made her want to have a podium installed so she could look at them from above and actually be able to see all of them at once), a confident smirk growing at the corners of her lips.

“I will call each of you by your name,” she gestured for Jakob to bring the scroll he had been carrying since earlier that morning, which he did so promptly, “and once you hear it, come forward to pick up your burden.” She opened the scroll in a swift movement, tilting her head to the side so the men could see the bags stored at the corner. “Since I do not know what each of you is capable of, I would like us to... get to know each other, so to speak,” she snorted, almost looking forward to jogging around both palaces with her subordinates, “so for today we’ll simply check how much stamina ya’ll have.”

Some of the men looked at one another, as though challenged by that little girl speaking so proudly in front of them.

“Have you all stretched yet? You’ll need it.” She mentioned off-handedly without taking her eyes off of the list. “I’ll give you ten minutes to do it; once the time’s up, I’ll start calling the names.”

Narrowing their eyes, the soldiers hesitated for the first few moments, though complied as soon as their comrades started doing as she had asked. Once the time was up, Kamui began calling the names in alphabetical order.

“Aelwen,” she called the first name and a tall, burly woman walked out of the backline towards the oversized backpacks, “Anest, Caer, Cellach,” she followed with little breath in-between, glancing up to put a face to names she read. “Darren, Declan, Eilian, Garth, Guinevere, Lann…” She squinted to the next name, unsure of how to say it. “Is it pronounced ‘Lyug’ or Loo?”

The man called Lugh blinked. “Uh, it’s pronounced ‘Loo’, ser.”

“Alright, thank you, Lugh. Go on.” She gestured with her chin for him to proceed, then continued to call the names. “Mali, Muirgel, Nuala, Oisín,” she took a good look at each of them as they walked, noticing how some -- maybe the bowmen squad she had taken with her -- were more willing to follow through her instructions than others, “Peadar, Phylip, Rhedyn, Riona and Rónán.” As she finished, Kamui rolled back the scroll and returned it to her butler. “Thank you, Jakob.”

Twelve men and eight women -- those were the soldiers under Kamui’s command for the moment. Once her influence and trust grew within the kingdom, surely this number would go up and up until she wouldn’t be able to remember them by name like now, but that was something to think about in another time.

Now, she would test them, the Gallahard style.

Not noticing she was smirking from ear to ear, Kamui’s expression sent chills down the spine of the men at the front rows. “Now that you’re all suited up,” she switched the weight of her body to another leg before turning away from them to pick up her own burden and throw it behind her back, “we’ll take a light stroll around the palaces! On me, men!”

From what Kamui herself had managed to ascertain during the nights after work hours, running from Strömborg while keeping to the outer walls, going down the tunnels that lead to the wyvern caves so as to reach and cross Krakenburg’s training grounds towards the other end of the tunnels and then back to the starting point wasn’t that much of a workout. The dame even commented about this route to Richard during one of their morning training intending to ask if she was allowed to use it, to which Richard replied with a snort and a stifled laughter.

Only after bringing her men with her did Kamui understand why.

“I’m dying- huff… huff…” One of them complained. “N-no more! W-what’s this… are there ROCKS inside these bags?” Their complaints echoed the caves as they made their way to Krakenburg.

“You call that running?” Kamui taunted from way up ahead, her voice echoing loudly. “Keep it up, keep it up!!”

“Nooo…!” Some whined, dragging themselves out of the wild tunnel into the paved part of the castle.

“Hmm…” Kamui stopped in the middle of the training grounds, watching how one by one the soldiers plopped on the ground, exhausted. “Ya’ll look SO weak, right now, did you know? I didn’t even start sweating yet.”

“Bu-but…!” Oisín, as Kamui managed to remember from the list, raised his index, the only part of him that wasn’t plastered across the floor. “You’re not- huff, human! This isn’t fair!”

Crossing her arms, the dame narrowed her eyes to the man, then to his nodding companions. It was true that she had more stamina than the normal man and that this trail was no more than a walk in the park for her. However… “Hah! You think I’m holding up like this because I’m a shape-shifter? Clearly you never had to train under Sir Gallahard the Watchful.” She bobbed her head to the sides. “I carried burdens just as heavy as these when I was half your age. So did my brother -- and he’s human.”

“...” Too exhausted to fight back, Oisín simply let his face rest on the cool stone, his finger limping in defeat.

“I’ll tell you what -- I’ll bring my brother here next time and ya’ll will see how he holds up, just to shut you up.” She placed both hands on her hips, nodding. “Alright, break time’s over; let’s head back!”

Soldiers groaned left and right, whining that they needed more time to recover their breath or that their limbs had turned to mush -- their complaints were so loud Kamui didn’t hear the voice of the person she felt approaching from behind.

“So it was you!” A velvety, mature voice welcomed the dame right into her ear in a warm embrace.

“P-Princess Camilla!” Kamui stuttered, quickly turning to the older woman so as to bow in respect. She glanced at the melting soldiers behind her and waved her hand dismissively. “You get ten more minutes,” she said before turning back to the Princess and escorting her to the nearby entrance.

“So stern! My, oh my, I like you more and more each day, darling.” Camilla pinched Kamui’s cheek with a soft coo.

“Forgive my appearance in the presence of the Eldest Princess,” Kamui managed to ignore the pinching and nodded in respect once again.

“Posh, don’t worry about that, dearie. Little Beruka and I came to train as well, but I see that the grounds are occupied for the morning, hm?”

“Oh, not at all; we’ll be returning to Strömborg shortly. They’re just taking a break.”

The Princess blinked, looking from Kamui to the decaying soldiers then to the tunnel entrance a ways from the grounds. “You brought them all the way here from Strömborg?” She threw her head back in an elegant laughter. “The castles are close by, but not that close, are they, dear? Oh, this is amusing.” She giggled as she patted Kamui’s shoulder. “Did you hear that, Beruka dear? Perhaps we should try using that route, as well.”

From behind a column, Beruka’s head poked out. “Perhaps. It bears further investigation on its effectiveness.”

“Mhmhm!” Camilla chuckled softly, bobbing her head from her retainer to the dame. “Since you’re on your way back, Kamui, I shall use this opportunity to formally invite you to my tea party! You did promise you’d come, didn’t you?”

“Of course, Lady Camilla.” Kamui nodded solemnly.

“Wonderful! Little Beruka will stop by your room later tonight with the invitation, so do inform my brother of your absence from duty on that date, will you?” Camilla pated Kamui’s head, entangling her fingers around the dame’s high ponytail. “Elise is so very excited as well! This will be a treat.”

“Very well. I shall be waiting.” Kamui exchanged glances with Beruka, who did not avert her gaze no matter how long Kamui withstood hers. “If that is all, my lady, I really must return…”

“You go on, dearie. See you soon.” Camilla gave a little push on Kamui’s back, though to the dame it felt like she had been hit by a large hammer -- how much strength was the Eldest Princess hiding in that apparently lean body of hers?!

Regardless, the time it took for Kamui to be free of Camilla was seemingly enough to allow her subordinates their rest, but they still had the entire way back to look forward to, which they certainly weren’t.

They arrived back at Strömborg way behind schedule, which resulted in Kamui assigning them to stable duty for the entire week until the next time she would oversee their training. The soldiers, however, were too exhausted to whine, only realizing their fate later that day when pages visited the barracks to deliver their new schedule.

Kamui returned to her quarters with a large smile on her face, glad to have managed to succeed in (mostly) everything she had planned for the training that morning. “They probably hate me so much right now,” she snorted, clutching her chest as she changed to her uniform after refreshing herself. “I want something good to be born out of this,” she whispered more to herself, though Jakob still heard it from the other side of the folding screen. The butler smiled as well, though turned his face away so he wouldn’t get caught.

Feeling warm and oddly accomplished in a way Kamui didn’t think it would be possible in such a short time after facing and succumbing to her beast, the dame proudly stepped out of her room, ready for another day of learning and serving.

[p-artsypants]

Drabbles and Fanfiction

Every once and a while, I will share this list. You can also find this page on my blog. 

Full list of all my works:

Find most, if not more, of these fics on:

fanfiction.net | archive of our own | wattpad

(~AU’s, *Finished, ❤️Author’s Favorites)

Kingdom Hearts

~❤️Rage Awakened ao3 | ff.net- Ten years ago, Terra, Aqua, and Ventus lost their fellow apprentice, Sora, in Deep Jungle. Now, they are to return with two new students, Riku and Kairi, to lock the heart of the world. All the while, something watches from the trees. Feral!Sora AU

My Kingdom for a Heart ao3 | ff.net - The curse of being one of the Princesses of heart, is that there’s always someone out to get you. As Xemnas looked failure in the face, he reached out in a last ditch effort and destroyed Kairi’s heart. Now her friends must travel the worlds again. Sora, to find a way to recover Kairi’s heart, and Riku, to make amends to those he has wronged. All the while, the darkness grows.

Miraculous Ladybug

One Shots

*❤️amalgam- When an young man is rejected for being ‘incompatible’ he turns into the akuma ‘Amalgam’ able to fuse two people together. And later Adrien and Marinette would debate if it was lucky or unlucky that they got hit. (Also Available in russian)

*sing we all noel- After receiving the worst Christmas present ever from his father, Chat Noir finds himself out on the streets with nowhere to go on Christmas Eve. Thankfully, Ladybug finds him and brings him home.

*speechless- In a world where everyone has a soulmark, the first words their soulmate will say to them, Marinette is born without one. But Adrien Agreste has two. Curious, considering he’s mute.

*❤️tunnels of love- The night started out with an accidental kiss from Adrien Agreste, and ended with her bleeding in the Catacombs of Paris. Ladybug, the wielder of the miraculous of good luck. Yeah right. (Some blood)

*the reveal that wasn’t- first parts My ending to kittybug’s Tumblr Prompt

*what a mess we’re in- Ladybug has a lot on her mind, and when Chat Noir bugs her enough, she tells him she’s going to confess to her Crush, Adrien Agreste. Chat’s reaction is not what she’s expecting.

Long Fics

Longest Night- (ff.net | ao3) - The day started out sucky to begin with. Her crush ousted to the class and Adrien. Lila taking pride in exacting her revenge. But by the time patrol was over, a young man was dead, and Ladybug’s identity was at risk. Lila was the least of her concerns. Good thing Adrien was taking it all like a champ. (Rated M for scenes of torture)

*❤️nine lives- (ff.net) When Adrien Agreste is scheduled to go to a Military School in Germany, Chat Noir must make a critical decision. Does he give up his Miraculous? Or does he give up his life as Adrien? I’ll save you the trouble of guessing, he gives up being Adrien.

*tender words- When Marinette finally gets the guts to confess her feelings for Adrien, some things go so wrong, and other things go so right.

How To Train Your Dragon

One Shots

The Vikings Have Their Tea (ff.net | ao3)

arranged marriage- Takes place at the beginning of HTTYD

❤️breathe- Survival of the fittest

~childhood friends- At the Sandbox

❤️easy fix- In which Hiccup has a bad day

~fashion designer- Astrid needs a fill in

❤️frozen- In Which Astrid takes a Dip and things get frisky (Rated M)

❤️headache- In Which Hiccup hits his head….really hard

❤️heir- In Which Hiccup is Picked (longer version by fatecharms)

illness- In Which Stoick is a dad

~illusionist- Trick gone wrong

~in the walls- In which there’s a poop ghost

~knocking on the wrong door (2) - A chance encounter

❤️messages- Astrid is Frustrated with Hiccup’s obliviousness

~to mirkwood- Hiccup is not a dwarf

~monster falls- Hiccup and Astrid take a dip

❤️mute- In which there’s a quiet stranger

~music video (ImgHS)- He didn’t expect it

❤️operation: lovebirds- In Which the gang makes a plan, and Hiccup gets Drunk

~over- Too many nightmares

~partners in crime- A normal day at work

~pirate- Astrid is the greatest treasure

~prince- He doesn’t want to be a broken King

❤️sorting things out- In Which Astrid gets her ducks in a row

~the dragon and the dame- Beauty and the Beast Au

the pit- In Which Hiccup is rescued

hide and seek- Part 1

lost and found- Part 2

Long fics:

*❤️infernal responsibility- Being the son of the chief takes brains, courage, and a lot of patience. But at his father’s the request for marriage, Hiccup decides he has had enough. When he seeks out a life of ease, he runs into more than what he bargained for.

*❤️roses and lilies- “Astrid, you and I both know you’re much tougher than I am. You’re more brave, and a better fighter…but just for a little while…could we pretend that I’m the one protecting you?” “Oh gods yes!” (Also Available in spanish!)

*~what the water gave me- The sea is a wild and dangerous thing, something that cannot be foretold or predicted. Hiccup discovered this many years ago, in human naiveté. Yet, what was meant as a sacrifice became a new life, one like no one could comprehend. He now finds himself once more in the unknowing hands of those that sentenced him to death. He only prays things will be different this time. Merman!AU

*parasite- Soulsnatcher Dragons are rare but deadly. But, As Hiccup finds out, it’s the eggs you have to watch out for.

*~320 state street- Gobber’s Goods. A Hardware Store that was rumored to have everything you needed. She thought she only needed a job. Turns out, she needed a lot more than that. (A Modern AU no one asked for)

*~❤️the north tower- When Finn Hofferson died, Astrid inherited his castle in Wales…and a whole lot more. Something sinister lurks in the North Tower.

*~❤️boy toy- ao3 - At the age of 21, Princess Astrid lawfully has to pick a husband. But when the perfect groom is nowhere to be found, she requests the toymaker to create one for her. It’s safe to say that everyone in the kingdom is a little concerned. (Pinocchio!AU I guess?)

no, you go first- ao3 - The Chief of Berk was a headstrong viking, stubborn and full of pride, and willing to do whatever it takes to keep his village safe. But for a moment, he puts that aside, and listens to his son. In which Hiccup convinces his dad not to make him go through Dragon Training, and the subsequent changes that follow.

*in due time- ao3 - As another illness sweeps through Berk, Gothi needs another ingredient for her medicine…one that doesn’t exist anymore. Fortunately, she kept that old spell book around for such an occasion. Big Hiccup is sent to five years into the past, and his younger self sent to take his place in the future. But it’s only a few days, what could go wrong?

Trollhunters: Tales from Arcadia

❤️arcadia or bust- In Which Arcadia welcomes back it’s underground citizens.

Teen Titans

Oneshots:

~big brother- Don’t turn out the light (Horror)

dear jason- Bruce Writes a letter

just drawing- Bruce thinks about Robin

the prisoner- Starfire is Guilty

of mustard and three foot purple tongues- A collection of Oneshots and Drabbles

Long Fics (*Finished):

*~❤️carol of the bells- High in the dark Bell Tower of Notre Dame, there lives a mysterious bell ringer. Legend tells of the angel who fell from the sky, and the curse she bares. There are few who know her true identity though; her master, the priest, and the acrobat that performs on the streets below. Based loosely on ‘The Hunchback of Notre Dame’ RobxStar and slight BBxRae

*no escape- Three years ago, Starfire escaped an Alien race called the Gordanians, to arrive on Earth. They’re back, and ready to put Starfire back where she belongs, behind reinforced Titanium bars. Robin’s not about to let her go…if only he hadn’t got captured first. How does it feel to be the alien, Robin?

*now you know my pain- When the new Villain, Gender Bender, comes to down, the Titans find themselves in an odd situation. They’ve been turned into the opposite gender against their will! Now in order to change back, they must learn to understand the gender they’ve turned into. Rated T for obvious reasons. A great read if you’ve ever wondered why girls or guys do [blank].

*paint it black- Robin disappeared three months ago. Now, Jump City’s crime rate is mysteriously being taken care of by a normal, albeit strange, teenage boy who goes by the name Black. As the Titans befriend this lunatic, they begin to see a relation between him and their missing leader. Will they be able to find Robin, or will Black turn them all insane as himself? Actually, contains NO OC.

*saving grace- “When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to walk upright or speak coherent sentences and all you’ll see is my mask and my voice repeating in your head…Weak. Richard Grayson, I am not tough, I am everything that you fear.” Happy Ending! Smudge of RobStar. NO Slash!

Other Fandoms

Final Fantasy XV

❤️requiem for pitioss-“O King. The god’s have heard your cries. Know that we weep with you. The Oracle’s calling has not yet been fulfilled. But…Lunafreya as you know her cannot return the way she was.” Noctis looked up, hopeful. “But she can return!” Canon divergence from Chapter 9. Happy ending. Some spoilers.

Beauty and the Beast

*❤️behold the beast- A Oneshot alternate ending to the Animated Film

Cinderella

*❤️midnight- “When the clock strikes twelve, the spell will be broken,” the fairy godmother had warned. A retelling of the story, when Cinderella doesn’t escape the ball in time. Oneshot

*so this is love- What if Jaq and Gus hadn’t made it in time to help Cinderella? A new twist on the ending of the classic Fairytale, and what lies beyond the story. She still gets her happy ending and her Prince, and her step family gets their just deserts.

Sleeping Beauty

*❤️a love song back to me- Maleficent saw the loophole that stared her in the face. Prince Phillip would break the curse in time, for sure. After all, he was betrothed to Aurora. So in an effort for her evil plan to stay in action, Maleficent takes care of the young prince herself. Phillip never imagined having to live off the land like the birds above. Alternate twist on the classic Disney tale.

Escaflowne

down feathers- Hitomi’s depressed. She’s been away from Van too long, he comes back to visit her…but what if something went wrong with the transfer? (Not finished. Never will be finished. Mwahaha) Circa 2012

*angel’s wounds- Fanelia’s been victorious in their most recent battle with Basrum. Unfortunately, someone is wounded and just seeks solace in his love that lives so far away. Post Anime.

momma look sharp- With the war between Fanelia and Basrum finally coming to a close, the kingdom is celebrating. The young king, however, is suffering from an experience unlike any he had before. Van finally seeks solace in his wife.

[pinkpoundcake]

DESERT DEVIL

CH. 1 THE HISS

All Might/ Reader as Female OC

NSFW AU ( Yes there’s smut)

4k+ words

Here’s the first chapter of something I’ve been working on during off time at school. I like writing drastically different AUs, because they give me a lot liberties. I intend for this to be a short series, so maybe two or three more chapters after this one. Hope ya enjoy if you read! 

I’m not sure if FF.net will allow second person, so I’m posting it here. I aint got no AO3. I also apologize for any mistakes! I’ll go back an’ fix as I see em. 

EDIT: Went back and fixed some things. Also, I changed the category of this fic. I’m warning the reader that you’re an OC! Kinda like you’re a preset character in a dating sim? If that makes any sense. Those be my only terms of free service. 

I.

Dusk had gone and night finally draped over the still view of the valley. You were a silly girl, really. No one in their right mind would pick now of all times to draw water from one of the wells. Maybe once upon a time they would have. It wasn't impractical to wait until the sun stopped cracking its infernal whip to get things done, but once upon a time, the valley had nothing to fear.

II.

You were walking quickly. You kept your wooly head low as you neared the crudely built structure. Only one bucket of water. No one would mind. You just couldn't go to bed with a clear conscience without finally giving your poor, overworked horse something to drink. You'd take the risk, because glory knows you hated having cottonmouth. It was cottonmouth season...all year round it felt, except for the few praise inducing weeks the sky would show mercy and weep. Dry mouth, dry eyes, dry coat, dry everything. Such is the way of the desert.

You gave your heavy water bag a hard yank to make sure it was sealed before you hightailed it back to your plot. The locust had stopped gossiping in the weeds, and it was making you nervous.

III.

You were the sort of gal who liked to blend in, but your talents made that hard. You had an ability, A Gift, as folks liked to call these sorts of things, that made you incredibly valuable for trade.

You engaged in it as well, because you had to, to get along, but it made you an easy volun-telling target for other croppers and craftsmen and all manners of citizens with business

“Could you chat with this fellow for me? He speaks...sumfin’. The hell if I know. He owes me money.”

“Tell that eastern cheapskate I won't go any lower on price!”

“Hey, goat girl, tell the front counter dame in the Apothecary she's welcome in my bunk any time of day~”

First of all, you were a sheep. Second of all...fine.

IV.

Your Gift was nice for the most part. You had your own upper hand when it came to sale. You could understand anyone, no matter the spoken language. Absolutely essential for such an oddly diverse patch of scorched Earth. You could even help filter a speaker to an entire audience if you held their hand. You didn't like to advertise that though, otherwise the mayor and sheriff and whoever else, would be breathing down your neck even more than they did now.

If no one around knew you, then they usually assumed your appearance was all there was to your Gift. So, what you loved most was eavesdropping. Conversations were mostly mundane in other languages. That's how talking worked, but there were days when you were served some pretty interesting dirt or juicy news by unknowing hosts.

They're going to start rationing water tomorrow. Some serious limits, I reckon.

I didn't think it would be this bad this year?! It rained just enough in the early season, didn't it? I wonder where it all goes.

You wonder the same. It gets worse and worse every year. Every year it's a point of serious tension. They don't call this valley Struggler for nothing. Struggling was this town's first, middle, and last time. Maybe it's old maiden name, too.

The commonality is, is that if you made it halfway through the desert, you stopped in this crowded, little town and clung to it for dear life. You personally knew what it was like. Everyone knew what it was like, to fear that you weren't going to make it to The Oasis at the end of your journey. After the promenade that chewed you up, and spat you out, you don't even try.

We don't have enough water for all the people we keep letting stay here!

But what kind of person could keep a cold heart here? What would it take to let someone waste away elsewhere, or worse, face the beast this desert had to offer.

The Hiss.

More chilling than a rattlesnake's warning.

V.

This broad blue sky. The hard clay and sand beneath his form, the cacti, the dry bones and evaporated watering holes. Every scavenger to circle overhead belonged to him.

The hard, hot wind. The mirages that danced in nauseating ribbons. They were his. He could lift his head, and think about howling to his old lovers, the stars, if he still had the singing voice. But he lost that a long time ago with one of his lungs.  He was getting old, too, but his bloodlust was getting stronger every year, along with a lot of puzzling urges.

He hated that he could only claim his seared kingdom at night, but it couldn't be helped. He was a partial coward who couldn't hope to understand himself. He still had a deep sense of decency. He was a hypocrite, in a sense. He didn't want to be a bother during the day, if he was such a big bother at night. But being a menace at night was to be a nuisance in the day, regardless.

And nuisance was...too light of a word. Far too light. Crows in his sunflowers were nuisances. Locust in his house were nuisances.

Him?

Oh, he was

VI.

“A killer...A fuckin’ killer!”

You watched as the town sheriff swore and covered the body of a, now former, foreman with a bit of canvas. Splotches of blood bloomed in the fabric over the inclines of the older man's face. From what you saw, he was mauled real good. Or...bad. A big bite right out of his jugular, clavicle, and most of his left shoulder. You weren't the only sick one in the crowd. You would have upchucked your breakfast if this wasn't something you were becoming accustomed to.

First it was Mr. Dandy, gnawed out chest, who used to rally up hunting parties with the German twins who could shoot right out of their fingers, no guns needed. Then it was Eclair, you didn't know her last name, who sold pungent perfume from her own sweat out of her tacky little shop. Y'all never found her head. Big Cat Capri from Cameroon, was torn in two. Though he was a menace with a forgettable Gift that wasn't much missed. Then there was another fellow. Japanese you think, but actually he was still limping around somewhere.

The only one to see The Beast and live… The fella's pretty busted up as far as you know.

Anyway, time for another funeral.

VII.

Speaking of that old Japanese fellow…

You didn't give him much of a glance at any given day, but you could see him  out of the corner of your squared pupils, watching you hand off chunks of unwashed wool to craftsmen who were probably going to fashion saddles or boots. It wasn't quite the right time to start plucking from your melon patch, or any of the desert dates, so you were selling off some old stock of your hair. Everyone knew it was your hair, and no one really cared.

God, you couldn't recall his name. You've never actually heard him speak, but the fella always sat at the posts near the trading square and just watched the street; waiting for someone with their hands full to need help lacing up their boots. Or for someone's goat to go astray so he could bring it back to them. Or to help some kid out on errands tether their family horse. You wonder why he would go through those little efforts on a limp. He walked with a cane, bright red like a dragon, with a yellowing cattle horn handle. He wore a big brimmed, leather hat so that he didn't catch perpetual sunburn, thick slacks, a poor fitting button up that used to be white, and strapped riding boots, too, but no spurs.

He was a strange sight, you noted with slight nervousness as he stood, and then made his way over to your shabby booth. He was a tall, tall, tall fella. Tall and skinny, like he didn't fancy eating much. You knew a couple of people who were like that. He had wild, blonde hair, he obviously didn't comb. And honestly, he had the prettiest blue eyes. At least you assumed they were. He was swallow enough that his eyes were sunk deep beneath his brow, but that blue struck out like an aimed double barrel. It made you wonder what he looked like when he was a colt.

“Afternoon, sir,” You cleared your throat. You watched his face to gauge how much he understood you. You didn't want to be rude. “No food. Just some wool today.”

The older man, squinted, seemingly thinking, and then gestured to your freshly sheared head with the handle of his cane.

“It's all mine, yes.” You laughed and scratched one of your horns to release some of your anxiousness.

“How...How much for it?” His accent was somewhat thick, but you were happy you wouldn't have to reach out and grab one of his massive hands to get on some equal ground.

“Five pieces for a small bundle. Ten for the big bundles there.” You watched the fellow consider which size, and then finally he made a decision. Slowly he lifted one of the large cottony wads, and then absentmindedly brought it to his nose. He gently inhaled the intriguing scent there.

You stared, perplexed, and confused. He seemed to pick up on your confusion, and righted himself. He gave you his own awkward smile, almost an apology for…whatever that was. He counted out ten small pieces for you, politely dipped his head with a thank you, and then moseyed along.

Strange…

VIII.

He was drunk. Absolutely drunk, and he'd never had a drop of liquor in his life. Tequila couldn't have been stronger than this. Your scent, your scent was so...He didn't know.

Good.

It made him hungry for things he'd forgotten the name of, forgotten how to describe. He didn't know what he was doing alone in the shack he called his home. Hiding his shame maybe. He'd locked the door with the big expensive chains and padlocks ( that were decor at this point) from the top shelf hours ago as night began to fall. He was paranoid, and feeling ravenous for a completely different, mysterious reason from what he was used to.

He held your wool in one hand, pressing it flush to his nose as he paced from one side of his home to the other. The misaligned floor groaned and weazed beneath his heavy, bare footsteps. His shadow, flickered from a candle or two, and swept the peach papered walls like a dark, lumbering menace.

What was it that he wanted now?!

He didn't understand himself anymore! There was no one to teach him his purpose.

He inhaled again, deep. His exhale emerged with a low rumble.  It rattled the chains strapping the front and back door, and shifted the glass in the kitchen window.

It was happening again much too soon.

There used to be a time when he could command the other half of himself. Where he could be whoever he wanted, whenever, but now he was stripped to nothing but incomprehensible impulses.

His wrath. His hunger. His pride.

Something new. His lust.

IX.

You just finished putting the blanket on Kissy, your horse, when the stars began to rub the long day from their eyes and glint down at you. Though still warm, the wind rolled over your fuzzy scalp and settled in the cooling sweat beneath your dark hide. You rubbed your arms, figuring you could use a blanket, too. Your draft's loud chewing in the stable cover was a calming background noise as it mingled with your thoughts. The flat distance, with it's mountainous levels was a pretty sight, despite being empty.

You've always wanted to roam at night, finally figure out what that fabled Oasis was on the other side of hell. You hoped it was heaven, or something close.  You wanted to explore more than your town, to see what was out there while the sun wasn't scheduling your funeral. You were bored of being too scared. Stressed with not having enough of the bare minimum essentials. Lonely, too. Kissy kept you company, maybe, but he wasn't all that good with conversation or cooking.

He wasn't good at stopping you from taking 'walks’ either. You found all sorts of excuses for yourself to roam at night. Kissy needed more water, or you needed to find some wild aloe for a wound, or you needed to find sand grubs for your greedy gossip of chickens.

Excuses, excuses.

Mr. Aizawa, was another Japanese fellow (you think), who wasn't the sheriff, but probably could have been. He'd tell you you were full of excuses. The town had a curfew of sorts to 'keep people safe’. Under what authority this curfew came from, you had no clue. If you were caught, the runner up sheriff hogg tied you with a lasso and a warning, and dragged your sorry, law breaking ass back home. Or fined you. Something like that.

He had an annoying Gift that kept others from using their Gifts to get away. You didn't know how he did it. Much to what was probably Deputy Aizawa's disdain, he was plucked out of the crowd the day he arrived. He had a scruffy grifter appearance, but the fellow was awfully strict, perfectly bilingual in relation to you, and knew  exactly what your own Gift entailed, so you couldn't pretend you didn't understand any of his honorary demands.

You didn't even give yourself a chance to consider he might be out and about on patrol. You didn't even consider where the hell you were going. All you knew was that you were:

Literally and figuratively hard headed.

And

Dumb as rocks because it was half past night noon, and anywhere beyond the aloe thicket was Hiss county.

The danger zone.

X.

A scent was a scent was a scent. Something to follow to a target. His prey were rotten. He caught the next foul stench on the hit list floating on the western wind. It filled his flared nostrils and made his mouth water with anticipation. His long, thick fingers were still raw and full of splinters from clawing his way out from his pathetic attempts at shutting himself in.

The night was a blur. He was unbothered by the grit he kicked up in his full run. Adrenaline pumped in his veins with the incredible accumulation of power that drove him. There was a roar in his ears. Something he rushed by sliced him; thin little scratches in several places, but he didn't notice. His heart thrashed beneath his ribs as he sensed himself drawing closer and closer.

Wait.

Suddenly, he came to a halt, giving the surrounding weeds severe whiplash.

Everything aside from his heart and his laboured breathing were still. Not a sound from any creature. Nothing was brave enough to disturb him.

There was something... something else on the wind he wanted much, much more that seemed to be coming from the same direction.

XI.

The last thing you wanted to hear was a voice while you were trying to be sneaky. You kept your body low and tucked your tail close to the full round of your bottom. It was going so nicely, your 'stroll’. You were going to take some notes in one of your books, maybe stuff some natural souvenirs in your pocket, and then head back home.

You held still for a while and used a few big, healthy stragglers of agave as your cover. You were hearing the voice again, now two voices. You didn't know what dialect they were speaking, so you closed your eyes, and used your Gift.

He's been shelling out a lot for this reroute. Keeping a lot of people's mouths shut. It's gonna be a lot harder to get this done without the foreman.

Yeah, I thought that, too. It's strange. I'm sorta...spooked. Mr. Dandy and now him. You’d think this whole thing was cursed.

Or someone knows…

They looked mauled, couldn't have been some poor bastard with a pistol.  What do they call the thing that's been chewing people up?

Depends on who you talk to. Yok... something. Yokay? Yokai? Chupacabra, though it's not gettin’ goats, that's for sure. Werewolf. Howler. Beast. Plain old monster.

I just hope it's a coincidence. I don't want to be next…

Now...what in the world we're these fellers talking about? You frowned while quietly slinking around to another perch. You watched your footing and hoped they would talk more, but now they were getting further and further away. Headed…somewhere.

Somewhere you kept your eye on. Might want to check it out next time you take a stroll.

XII.

The air pressure flipped like a coin  and cut through your moment of reprieve.

Bullseye.

You were so shocked you couldn't even scream. It was caught in your throat with a pinch of desert sand. Something massive and unyielding and menacing had ripped the ground from beneath your feet.

The sky was spinning round and round as the earth teetered wild on its axis. The moon was mocking you. The stars cackled as they danced, blurry streams trailing like faded candle lights behind them.

There was a black patch of sky that didn’t budge, and it only held two stars far above that didn't move either. Because they weren't stars,

they were vivid blue eyes.

XIII.

This was it. This was how you were going to die.

You were already nauseous from hitting you head, and now you were nauseous from hitting reality. You couldn't make a sound, could hardly breathe. Your throat burned like a shot of fireball. Your eyes were wide as you tried to make out the Beast's form. It was hard, with hot tears in your eyes, now shrouding the moon’s pale light. You could hear him, though, the hiss of death. It was high pitched, akin to the sizzle of a hot brand.

Would it have ripping fangs when it bit you? We're those its claws digging into your ankles as it dragged you elsewhere? You were in a bit of pain, and you could sense the stickiness of blood on your back, but you were mentally preparing yourself for a lot more. Images of the sheriff draping canvas over your mangled body caused you to wretch.

You were so stupid!!!!! SO GODDAMN STUPID. HOW COULD YOU PUT YOURSELF IN THIS SITUATION? NO WEAPON. NO NOTHING.  THIS IS WHAT YOU GET. HOW COULD YOU-

It stopped.

You stopped.

Confusion boxed you good over the ears.

You were staring up into the face of a man now, and he was staring right back at you.

Your confusion subsided into renewed fear. He was just a man, but the most unnaturally large man you had ever seen. Large was the wrong word. He was...immaculate. A threadbare shirt was struggling to hold itself together as his massive chest flexed. He had a heavily shadowed face and unreadable, though somewhat tense expression. His golden hair stood upright on his forehead head, like a red bat's ears or jack rabbit. Pure, wild, chaotic energy wafted from the heat of his skin. He shifted slightly while sizing you, and your eyes darted to the massive, bear paw of a calloused hand on the other side of your head.

He could sneeze and snap your neck. You believed he could tear a man in two. Oh God in heaven, he did! And you were next!

The Beast made a sudden movement, and you shut your eyes. You clenched everything from your horned head, to your cleft, hooven toes, and waited.

You had no choice but to hold your breath as his big, otherworldly body pressed into yours. It felt like being pressed between something more solid than a rock, and a really hard place. His breath, that you realized was rushed, cooly ghosted your forehead. Was he going to take your noggin like Eclair and mount it over his fireplace?

Greedily, he was drinking in your scent. So much stronger, so much better right from the source. He had to sample more of you. Sip you. Lap you up.

Where was it?! Where was more?!

You didn't think you could tense beyond how much you were tensed now, but you did as his nose left your head to wedge its way up into your neck. You felt the unnatural rumble of his voice in the hollows of your bones, filling your throat and chest. You prepared for hard, life ending bites, but all you received we're moderately painful nips and what could only be described as sloppy kisses. He received the sensation of kissing your fur with intrigue and almost groomed it with a big, wide tongue.

You didn't know what to say, or what to do. He hadn't said a word. You didn't know if the brute mounting you was really human, or …Something. Was all of this even real? Or were you home, wet dreaming about a good rut in your bunk again?

He needed more! More! More! More! Where was more of you?!

He left you one last bite on your shoulder that you were ashamed made you bellow out like the animal you were similar to. You slapped a hand over your mouth, but it was too late, the sound excited him. His nose grazed you, his rapid breaths through his nose like the pumping steam from a piston, a panting dog, frantically looking for more of your tastes and smells. Your clothes were in his way, but he didn't have the patience or current cognition to remove them.

He rubbed his cheeks against your generous chest, nipped your stomach through your tattered apron, and then zipped straight to your crotch. You were shocked as he unashamedly, obliviously, pressed his face there and very audibly inhaled. There was another rumble, loud enough to buzz through your entire body.

“A-Ah!” You cried out. The sharp, pleasurable tingle and sting from his deep voice, the pressure from his cheeks, and the heat of his breath was sudden. You were so…you were…

You could end this year's drought right here, right now.

You bit your lip, desperately wanting to access the situation. To think! To sort out what in the HELL was happening, but he had ripped through your overalls with his teeth and was lapping at your plump pussy through your knickers. He'd sniffed out the wetness that had slickened the fabric and was eager to taste. You moved closer and hissed out a pathetic Yeeessss!

Whimpering, you tried to push yourself up on your elbows. Your shoulders hit some hard, cool clay and the back of your head scraped more of the rough rock there. He was suckling like a thirsty calf, drawing the fabric of your knickers into the heat of his mouth along with your long, throbbing clit beneath. The suction was strong, unrelenting, almost painful.

“H-hey, hey! Easy, partner!” Your thighs  involuntarily snapped around his head, but he was undeterred. You shoved your hands against his brow, trying to get him to release.

“Please!” You were relieved when he finally did, but it was only for some adjustments. The brute drew his hands beneath your legs and dragged you further into the shadow so he could keep his meal all to himself.

His mouth attacked you again and you wriggled and writhed. Your own breath matched his labored huffs. You bit chunks out of your sense of morality while you bit your lip. With a shaking hand, you brought your clawed fingers to your crotch. His thick tongue grazed your knuckles as you worked to tug the fabric aside and reveal your dark, generous lips, and generously engorged clit beneath. He immediately took what you revealed to him, going from hungry to downright glutenous. You couldn't tell if the additional wetness you felt was from your own cyprine or slobber on his chin.

XIV.

“GOD!! Who are you?! What is your name?” Now was not the time to be asking these sorts of questions, but again, you did say you were a silly woman. You gritted your teeth to attempt to contain your cries. He didn't respond at first. The only reply for several deliciously, agonizing moments was the thick, slurping sound of his attention between your legs. This stranger, no demon,  was trying to shove his tongue as far up your womanhood as he could, and at this point, he had your loud, keening permission.

“AH! AHH!” Your slapped the hand that wasn't buried in his hair over your mouth again. You couldn't contain yourself. You'd never felt something like this before. You were a maiden who could only daydream, and you weren't sure if you could consider this that, or a nightmare.

“I said!” Your voice cracked and your back arched from the ground as you racketed up to an orgasm. Your voice was weary and hoarse. You were shrieking “what is your name?!”

He still had yet to respond, but if he chose now, you wouldn't have heard him. You came for the first time in your little life ( bless your heart); your mouth stretched wide open, waiting to catch flies. But all you caught was a big, wet kiss.

You could taste yourself. Taste his breath. Your legs were shaking. You were high like you'd been huffing gasoline, so you didn't put up a fight when he lifted you to his chest.

Someone was coming…

He had to take you elsewhere.

The open night sky. The owl judging you both from the whole it ate out a cactus. The earth beneath his feet. The howl of the wind as he ran and you both became a blur.

And you, clinging to his chest:

Belonged to him.

--

Chapter 1 End

[norsesuggestions]

iron age Helga somehow got tagged in meme!

the the magic of my future vision, i got tagged by @north-wyrm  to answer (or myself) but as Helga, i will answer.

Rules: Tag 8 people you want to get to know better. all you other history suggestion blogs, consider yourself tagged, and do the tag if you feel like it!

Relationship status: I am married to a man of a good family, of who I were childhood friend with. well, he had this male best friend. all night and day, they would speak (and more...). oh, well, they I knew of that very much so, when we got married, and me too back then had a gf (now sadly broken up over a butter making dispute).

so we got married to keep up appearence. but then my husband left with is dear friend, and i have not seen him in person sense then. its gone 10 years.... right now he is in rome! comforting himself about the death of his love (a mercieless anon killed his love, way back.... it was brutal). but i think he is becoming a bit happier. rapports say he has been seen on fun parties, and in baths!

me? well i still looking for that girlfriend. once upon a time I had a girlfriend, but then... we fought about how to churn butter. and i can hardly speak about, the wounds are deep. so deep. she also live right next door, so it is a bit awkward...

Favorite color: red and blue! fave colours found on norse iron age fashion!

Lipstick or Chapstick: erm..... sticks? lips? chaps................................. what is even going on here. i hear they put colour on their lips in many lands, but it is not a practice here yet..... that is all have to answer.

Last Song Listened to: this sweet poems about the birds of odin, with some music added too, during a feast in my halls:

Hugin and Munin Fly every day Over the great earth. I fear for Hugin That he may not return, Yet more am I anxious for Munin.

[from the younger Edda, chapter XII]

now i am very concerned about munin, that sweet bird!

Last Movie I watched: lokeasana, were the asagods try to kinkshame loki, but loki kinkshames them even HARDER

an excerpt, that beginns with njord trying to shame loki for giving birth to children.

Njord:

"It is no great wonder, if silk-clad dames get themselves husbands, lovers; but 'tis a wonder that a wretched man, that has borne children, should herein enter."

Loki:

"Cease now, Njord! in bounds contain thyself; I will no longer keep it secret: it was with thy sister thou hadst such a so hardly worse than thyself."

Tyr:

"Frey is best of all the exalted gods in the asagods courts: no maid he makes to weep, no wife of man, and from bonds looses all."

Loki:

"Be silent, Tyr; to thy wife it happened to have a son by me. Nor rag nor penny ever hadst thou, poor wretch! for this injury."

[translation by Benjamin Thorpe via wikipedia link]

Top Three Bands: well, there is just 3 musicians here. so those three musicians. their names are Brage, Ragnfrid and Torgerd. well. rumours says that in about 4 years, there might come a visitor musicans from somewhere else. but its just rumours.... but perhaps....

Top Three Shows: 

i do not know what a “show” is, but some poems paints a picture, so i will show 3 excerpts.

1

Drunk I was, | I was dead-drunk, When with Fjalar wise I was; 'Tis the best of drinking | if back one brings His wisdom with him home.

[poetic edda, hovamol. link to translation used]

2

Sigurth and Regin went up to the Gnitaheith, and found there the track that Fafnir made when he crawled to water. Then Sigurth made a great trench across the path, and took his place therein. When Fafnir crawled from his gold, he blew out venom, and it ran down from above on Sigurth's head. But when Fafnir crawled over the trench, then Sigurth thrust his sword into his body to the heart. Fafnir writhed and struck out with his head and tail. Sigurth leaped from the trench, and each looked at the other. Fafnir said:

1. "Youth, oh, youth! | of whom then, youth, art thou born? Say whose son thou art, Who in Fafnir's blood | thy bright blade reddened, And struck thy sword to my heart." 

Sigurth concealed his name because it was believed in olden times that the word of a dying man might have great power if he cursed his foe by his name. He said: 

2. "The Noble Hart | my name, and I go A motherless man abroad; Father I had not, | as others have, And lonely ever I live." 

Fafnir spake: 3. "If father thou hadst not, | as others have, By what wonder wast thou born? (Though thy name on the day | of my death thou hidest, Thou knowest now thou dost lie.)"

[Sigurth being called out by the dragon fafnir for lying! in fafnismol. link to translation used]

3

Thor spake: 29. "Answer me, Alvis! | thou knowest all, Dwarf, of the doom of men: What call they the night, | the daughter of Nor, In each and every world?"

Alvis spake: 30. "'Night' men call it, | 'Darkness' gods name it, 'The Hood' the holy ones high; The giants 'The Lightless,' | the elves 'Sleep's joy" The dwarfs 'The Weaver of Dreams."'

[alvismal. poetic edda. link to translation used]

Three Characters:  Loki, Freya, and Ullr, the ever mysterious god, who appeared to have been so very popular in east-south scandinavia. who is he? we do not know.

but we love him. ullr, whoever he might be.

Book I’m Currently Reading: the poetic edda, put not in this “book” form you keep talking about. it is written on stone, bone and wood! and i keep some the poems in my longhouse, some off them on the road, some are written in lands far away, and others i keep in my mind.

also, here on my collection of poems carved into birch..... but do not tell anyone! i am soppused to recall it all from memory. our little secret, right?

[laikamaeris]

for the music thing, kindof a hard one: general vespria? I hate that dude, what is he in song form?

alright. i, hm. this is what i’m going with here. i did kind of forget how funny Vespria is as a dude like. yeah ok. killing him was the right choice actually.

W.U.G. - Chris Fleming

You’re Dead - Norma Tanega

Goodbye Mr. A - The Hoosiers

We Didn’t Start the Fire - Billy Joel