#gems' monarch sound better

[mire-the-swamp]

Nico di Angelo: Ghost King

Bianca di Angelo: Queen of Shadows

Hazel Levesque: Gems' Monarch

[srslyscary]

crown heist

contents/warnings: SFW, slightly ooc, lowercase intended

including: wooyoung x reader

w.c: 2.2k

note: royal au! EAT EAT EAT . anyways I have nothing else to say. enjoy!

_

the kingdom of adalin was known far and wide for its grand castles, vast forests, and most of all, its indomitable queen. queen YN was the epitome of grace, her image perfectly curated by the royal advisors to maintain the idealistic vision of a monarch who was as innocent as she was powerful. the people adored her, believing her to be a delicate flower who ruled with a gentle hand. but wooyoung knew better.

every thief worth his salt had heard of the crown kept in the queen's chambers—an heirloom that had been passed down from generation to generation, which holds the power to command the loyalty of the entire kingdom. for a thief like wooyoung, stealing it wasn’t just a job—it was the ultimate prize.

the plan had been set in motion weeks ago. wooyoung had spent countless hours mapping out the castle, learning the guards' routines, and finding the best points of entry. he’d bribed, blackmailed, and even charmed his way into the castle more than once to learn the layout. by the time he was ready, he could navigate the corridors blindfolded.

the night was thick with silence, the moon hanging high in the sky, casting a dim silver glow over the kingdom. wooyoung moved like a shadow, slipping past the guards with practiced ease. the dark, winding hallways of the castle were like a second home to him now. he avoided the pressure plates, sidestepped the creaky floorboards, and held his breath as he slithered past the patrolling guards.

finally, he reached the queen's chambers. the door loomed before him, a thick, imposing barrier that would intimidate any ordinary thief. but wooyoung was no ordinary thief. with a smirk, he carefully picked the lock, the satisfying click of the tumblers falling into place filling him with confidence. he slowly pushed the door open and slipped inside, closing it behind him with barely a whisper of sound.

the room was dark, save for the pale moonlight streaming in through the grand window. wooyoung’s eyes scanned the room, finding the bed draped in rich, heavy curtains. the silhouette of the queen was visible through the fabric, her form still and quiet, as though she were sound asleep.

he crept forward, his gaze locking onto the crown resting on a pedestal near the bed. it was even more magnificent up close, the gems embedded in it catching the faint light and sparkling like a thousand stars. this was it. the prize he'd been dreaming of.

just as his fingers brushed the cool metal of the crown, he heard it—a sharp click, unmistakable in the silence of the room. he froze, his heart pounding in his chest as a voice, harsh and commanding, cut through the darkness.

"move another inch, and i’ll shoot you dead."

wooyoung’s blood ran cold. he turned his head slightly, his eyes widening as he realized the queen was not in bed. instead, she stood in the dark corner of the room, her figure partially obscured by shadows. she stepped forward, the faint light illuminating her face as she trained an 8-inch double-barrel shotgun on his head. her black gown clung to her form, a stark contrast to the image the people of adalin had of their queen. this wasn’t the delicate, demure ruler everyone believed her to be.

"you," she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "what the hell are you doing in my room at this ungodly hour?"

wooyoung chuckled, his hands slowly raising in surrender. “i’m here for the crown."

her lips curled into a smirk, though her eyes remained cold. "and what makes you think you can just walk in here and take it?"

he hesitated, trying to gauge his options. wooyoung was known for his silver tongue, but something about the way she held the shotgun—steady, without a hint of fear—told him this was not a woman to trifle with. "I thought you were asleep. the crown is a... valuable piece. It's—"

she cut him off with a scoff, pressing the barrels of the gun harder against his head. "you have no idea what that crown represents."

wooyoung risked a glance at her, surprised by the venom in her voice. the queen's public persona was so different from the woman standing before him now—this was someone hardened by life, someone who had seen and done more than the people could ever imagine. he had to admit, he was intrigued. "you’re... different from what the people say."

she arched an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her eyes. "oh? and what do they say?"

"that you're sweet, innocent, wouldn’t hurt a soul. they say you don’t have the courage to do much of anything."

the queen chuckled darkly, lowering the gun just enough for him to breathe more easily. "reality is always closed off from the naked eye. the people see what they want to see, what I allow them to see. but you, thief, you’ve seen something they never will."

wooyoung dared to smile, his natural charm bubbling to the surface despite the danger. "well, your majesty, I must say, i’m quite honored. not everyone gets to see this side of you."

she rolled her eyes, unimpressed. "flattery will get you nowhere, thief."

"wooyoung," he corrected her, his tone smooth. "the name’s wooyoung."

"and I’m not interested in a thief who has no dignity," she shot back, her gaze never wavering from his.

his smile faltered slightly. "ouch. That's a bit harsh, don’t you think?"

"not nearly as harsh as what I could do to you right now," she replied, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper. she stepped closer, the barrels of the gun now resting against his forehead, cold and unforgiving. "this crown," she continued, her tone growing more heated, "is not just a piece of jewelry. it’s the last treasure my father owned. when I inherited this kingdom and its riches, I lost the one person who meant the most to me. this crown is all I have left of him, and I’ll be damned if I let a petty thief take that connection away from me."

wooyoung’s breath hitched as she pressed the gun harder against his skin. he could see the raw emotion in her eyes, the way her hand trembled ever so slightly. she was close to losing control, her anger and grief warring within her.

for a moment, he thought she might pull the trigger. but then, she hesitated, her expression shifting from anger to something else. something more vulnerable.

she lowered the gun, her shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world had finally crushed her spirit. wooyoung watched in silence as she pressed the barrels of the shotgun to her own forehead, closing her eyes with a weary sigh.

"why am I even bothering?" she muttered, more to herself than to him. "i’m too tired for this."

wooyoung stood frozen, unsure of what to do or say. this was not how he’d imagined the night going. the queen, once so fierce and commanding, now looked drained—mentally, physically, and emotionally.

she turned away from him, moving back to the dark corner where she had been sitting. with a flick of her wrist, she turned on a small lamp, the soft light casting a warm glow over her face. she sank into a plush chair, her grip on the shotgun loosening as she stared at the floor.

"i don’t know why I’m telling you all this," she said after a long silence. her voice was quiet now, almost defeated. "you’re just a thief, someone who doesn’t care about anything but his own gain."

wooyoung, sensing an opportunity, slowly lowered his hands, taking a cautious step closer. "maybe. but... maybe I do care."

she looked up at him, her eyes filled with doubt. "why would you? you don’t even know me."

"true," he admitted, "but I can see you’re going through something. and... i’ve been through my share of hardships too."

the queen scoffed, though there was less venom in it this time. "what could someone like you possibly know about hardship?"

wooyoung sighed, running a hand through his hair. "more than you’d think. but that’s not important right now. what matters is that... you don’t have to go through this alone."

she laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "alone? that’s all I’ve ever been. even surrounded by people, i’ve always been alone."

wooyoung’s heart twisted at the pain in her voice. despite his initial intentions, he found himself wanting to help her, to ease some of the burden she carried. "you’re not alone right now," he said softly, taking another step closer.

the queen’s gaze met his, her eyes searching his face for any sign of deceit. when she found none, she looked away, her expression softening. "i didn’t tell you to come closer. and why haven’t you run off with the crown like you planned?"

"because—“ he chuckled, choosing his words carefully. "because maybe I’ve found something more valuable than the crown."

she arched an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "and what would that be?"

"you," he said simply, his voice sincere.

the queen stared at him, her expression unreadable. for a long moment, neither of them spoke, the silence heavy with unspoken emotions. then, she sighed, leaning back in her chair. "you’re a strange one, wooyoung. i don’t know whether to believe you or shoot you."

he smiled, the tension in the room easing slightly. "how about neither? maybe we can just... talk."

she considered this for a moment, then nodded slowly. "alright. talk."

wooyoung took a deep breath, grateful for the chance to steer the conversation away from his own demise. "you uh— mentioned your father earlier. he must have meant a lot to you."

the queen’s expression grew pained, but she didn’t shy away from the topic. "he was everything to me. my father was the only person who truly understood me, who saw me for who I really am. when he died... it felt like I lost a part of myself."

wooyoung listened intently, his usual cocky demeanor subdued as he absorbed her words. "sorry. I know what it’s like to lose someone important."

she looked at him, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. "who did you lose?"

he hesitated, then decided to be honest. "my brothers. they were the only family I had left. after they died, I... well, I lost my way. that’s how I ended up as a thief."

the queen studied him, her gaze softening as she saw the pain in his eyes. "i’m sorry for your loss, wooyoung."

"thank you," he replied, surprised by her genuine empathy. "it’s been a long time, but... it still hurts."

she nodded, understanding all too well. "grief is like that. It never truly goes away."

they fell into a comfortable silence, the tension between them dissolving as they shared their stories of loss. for the first time, wooyoung saw the queen not as a target, but as a person—someone who had been through just as much pain as he had, if not more.

"why do you put up with it?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence. "the facade, I mean. why pretend to be someone you’re not?"

the queen sighed, leaning her head back against the chair. "because it’s what’s expected of me. the people want a queen who’s sweet, innocent, and kind. they don’t want someone who’s hardened by life, who’s been forced to make difficult decisions. if they knew the truth... they’d lose faith in the crown."

"but isn’t that exhausting?" wooyoung pressed, genuinely curious. "pretending to be someone you’re not, day in and day out?"

"of course it is," she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "but what choice do I have? the crown is more than just a piece of metal. It’s a symbol of my father’s legacy, of everything he stood for. I can’t let that be tarnished by my own failings."

"but you’re not failing," wooyoung insisted, stepping closer to her. "you’re just human. no one can be perfect all the time."

she looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and resignation. "maybe not. but I have to try. for my father’s sake."

wooyoung reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently taking her hand. "your father wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of a crown. he’d want you to be true to yourself."

the queen stared at their joined hands, her expression conflicted. "I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’ve been pretending for so long that I’ve lost sight of the person I used to be."

"then maybe it’s time to find her again," wooyoung suggested softly. "and you don’t have to do it alone."

she looked up at him, her facial expression unclear. "why are you doing this? why are you being so kind to me?"

"because I see you," he said simply, his voice filled with sincerity. "the real you. and I think... I think you deserve to be happy."

the queen blinked, rather confused on what emotions she was feeling. for so long, she had been alone, carrying the weight of the crown and the expectations of the kingdom on her shoulders. but here, in the quiet of her chambers, with a thief who should have been her enemy, she found a flicker of hope.

a single tear slipped down her cheek, and wooyoung gently wiped it away with his thumb. "you don’t have to cry," he murmured, his voice soothing. "i’m here."

she closed her eyes, her heart aching with a mix of relief and longing. "I don’t know what to do," she confessed. "i’m so tired, wooyoung. tired of pretending, tired of being strong all the time."

"then stop," he urged her, his tone gentle but firm. "stop pretending, stop being strong. just be yourself, even if it’s just for tonight."

she opened her eyes, looking up at him with a vulnerability that she hadn’t shown anyone in years. "and what if I don’t like who I am underneath it all?"

"then we’ll figure it out together," wooyoung promised, his heart clenching at the sight of her pain. "you don’t have to face it alone anymore."

then queen let out a shaky breath, her defenses crumbling as she allowed herself to be vulnerable with him. "I don’t even know where to start."

"start with the truth," he said softly. "tell me who you really are, not the queen, but the woman underneath."

she hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "my name is YN."

wooyoung smiled, squeezing her hand gently. "it’s nice to meet you, YN."

she managed a small smile in return, feeling a sense of warmth that she hadn’t felt in years. "it’s nice to meet you too, wooyoung."

[caregivingchrysalises]

Ohh I'm a bit jealous it's been cold for you, but I'm happy you're excited for some warmer weather! Do you have a favorite summer time activity? I really wanna go swimming or camping, there's always lots of lizards and other little friends to see and admire (better get some cold treats now for the hot days! Ice-cream sandwiches would be my pick I think)

Nimona is such a good movie!! Ever after high is a really good show too, do you have a favorite character? Found family is also really comforting for me, it's one of my favorite things to watch/read. Howls moving castle, labyrinth (1986), and Robin hood (the animated one with foxes!!) would be my comfort movies! For shows I've been watching transformers prime and sailor moon ^^

:0 I bet your stuffie is very nice! (Even if they're a tough critic) are they a bear?

I love spending time at the chrysalis, you're always very kind and sweet! Take care my dear friend, it's always a pleasure - rosie

the weather outside is frightful…. but the chrysalis is so delightful (a bit early for holiday tunes perhaps)~ but nevertheless i am looking forward to swimming and spending time in the sun with loved ones with the new season! summer has always been a season for flying here and there which lets me say hello to lots of friends i haven’t seen in a while!!

i was just reading about the monarch butterflies and the efforts to revive their habitat~ it’s stories like that that remind me how grateful i am to be surrounded by nature and all of the various creatures and critters who live within it!

i adore darling charming and lizzy hearts!! their style and characters are wonderful!

you have absolutely splendid taste blossom, i love all of the films you’ve mentioned~ the fox version of robin hood is an under appreciated gem! i’ve heard great things about those shows, and have gathered glimpses of both over time, and they too sound delightful!

right you are angel! my stuffie is a bear, though i have a couple of different variations of them (i’ve got one that looks like a dragon, which i think is quite cool)~ but your darling prinx is always looking for more bears and other creatures to add to zer collection (i have a vision of s dragon plush but haven’t found one i love),,

i’m not sure if i’ve asked this yet, but i’m curious if you prefer sunrises or sunsets? would you rather have a picnic at the park or at the beach (or a mystical third option i didn’t mention), it’s an honor truly, i’m everso glad to see you, always! you’re welcome any time lovebug!

[empty-like-my-soul]

ALRIGHTY IT'S TIME FOR ME TO START BEING INSANE LET'S GO

as a note, I am doing this compare and contrast out of love and silliness because I am absolutely FERAL about both characters

First off, appearances.

As you may see, both have that puffy blue coat and that very red hair. Though you may not be able to see it, both also have brown boots and dark blue pants. And also belts. Jay has a white shirt, with ruffles going all the way down the front, that cuts off at her midriff. You can see the beginnings of that on Gem as well, though it is cut off by a light blue coat vest thing. The other contrast of note is that Gem has a bandana, while Jay has a pin in her hair.

Next are some more general mentions.

Both of them are bi, pirates (currently), and have a friend with a strange relationship with the sea. Albeit it's in entirely different ways but they're both fishmen. Who's names start with a G. And have incredibly similar backstories. I should stop THIS IS A GEM AND JAY FERIN APPRECIATION POST NOT A GILLION AND GRIAN APPRECIATION POST I'LL TALK ABOUT THEM LATER-

Anywho. They're also both played by Canadians who generally don't necessarily act like the stereotypical Canadian (as in both are incredibly violent physically and emotionally especially towards that one friend. I mean this in a fun way. Like bullying your siblings).

One place they differ is their... species? In fanon, at least, Gem is usually a deer hybrid. Or an elf. Or both. Or a monarch butterfly. Personally I like to see her as a moose at the current moment. Gem is a lot of things because Gem is great. But most commonly a deer. Jay is strictly human, from what I've seen. I mean yeah sure bird wings but she's not avian in nature. She just has wings. Another place they differ is their choice of weapon. Jay's signature weapon is some sort of pistol or revolver, and she prefers long range. Gem, however, prefers swords and melee combat. How else will she feel the glee of collecting heads?

This brings us on to the personality section. Both have marginally sized egos, albeit understated. They also have that amount of confidence inside themselves which leads them to be more headstrong or forceful in their beliefs. Both are the "logical" ones of the groups they're in but they do definitely jump headfirst into the insanity of the group, if that makes sense. Like if you see someone doing something stupid but harmless you join in.

The personality is very similar, they just have different parts amplified. Gem is moreso cheerful, whereas Jay has more, for lack of a better term, bloodlust. That is not to say that they don't both have these traits, it's just Gem is a bit more happy (sounding at least), while Jay holds a bit more hatred in her heart. Gem will murder people while giggling. Jay has daddy issues but smiles anyway.

If you wanted to oversimplify things, Gem is effectively Jay if you took away her daddy issues/if her dad was around. Jay is similar to Gem of you gave her a dad who kinda wants to kill her. But again, that's an oversimplification.

If you don't know who Jay Ferin is but want to see more, go on over and watch JRWI (Just Roll With It), a DND podcast on YouTube and Spotify! She's specifically from the Riptide campaign, which has been going on for over 100 episodes! (And if you find them cool and want to support them,, check em out on patreon)

If you don't know who Gem is and you wanna see more, this is the perfect time! Go search up GeminiTay on YouTube, and watch Hermitcraft Season 10! There's 3-4 episodes of that out right now. She also streams on Twitch under the same name. If you like binging, also check out her POV of Hermitcraft seasons 8 & 9!

In conclusion, give Gem a gun and let Jay Ferin have hooves

Gem’s season 10 skin looks like jay ferin and I can’t unsee it

[echodoctor]

Call it a historical fiction

“…and in the fourth month of surveying his lands, Ozmanthus came to a prosperous town under his rule, and there was held a celebration.

During the festivities, a young child presented him with a clumsily-made crown of flowers and leaves, saying ‘look, it has your name!’

The founder agreed that the crown was indeed woven of osmanthus flowers, and placed it on his head with great solemnity.

The lord magistrate of the town was deeply embarrassed, and made to scold the child, saying that a great king was above such things and that they would show their wealth in proper fashion, presenting their ruler with a crown of gems and gold.

Ozmanthus held up a hand to indicate the man should be silent, and spoke, saying ‘the child is far wiser than you, who would present me with what I do not need.’

He gestured to his long and shining hair, declaring that nature had already provided him with a crown of gold, and thus he needed no further adornment. The symbolism of the flowers was far more pleasing to him, and should the magistrate have gold to spare on crowns, he would be better served by spending it to provide for his people.

His wisdom thus explained, Ozmanthus proceeded to wear the flower crown for the remainder of his visit.”

-An excerpt from the historical records of House Arelius, regarding various deeds of their founding patriarch.

“Doing a little light reading, Cassias?”

He’d known Eithan was coming this way, and somehow the man had still managed to greet him at exactly the right moment to interrupt him in the middle of a sentence. Somehow, he suspected it was on purpose.

“Just brushing up on my history.”

Even on a cloudship too small for a proper training session, you could at least spend the journey improving your mind. There was no sense in laziness.

“Come to think of it… weren’t you something of an expert on the founder, back in the Rosegold branch? What did you think of this parable?”

Out of politeness, he held up the scroll to show the text, even knowing that Eithan could probably read the whole thing from several rooms away.

“My tutors never seemed to agree whether it was a lesson on the importance of humility, or a metaphor about how a true Monarch carries themself with pride, no matter the circumstances. …One of them was convinced it was just a morality tale about not spending too much money.”

Eithan blinked. “That one? I should think it would be obvious!”

“Really? So what is the meaning, then?”

“You can be the most powerful person in the room, or the country, or the world...” He looked Cassias directly in the eyes, expression unusually stern. "...but when a small child hands you a flower crown, you wear the fucking flower crown.”

Cassias opened his mouth to chide Eithan for being irreverent about their founding patriarch- then thought of his son's many, many crayon drawings pinned up on the walls of his home, and paused. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to argue the point.

The rest of the trip continued in surprisingly peaceful silence, broken only by the faint sound of Eithan humming to himself. When he looked over, Cassias saw the man twisting something green in his fingers, weaving it together.

When the cloudship reached their destination, Eithan stood up and went to go oversee the landing.

Left behind on the chair where he'd been sitting was a pristine, perfectly-woven crown of bright pink flowers.

[jiejie-eonni-onee-sama]

The King’s precious gem...

For the sweet @marilynmonroefanfics​

Hope you will enjoy this story!

"Here comes King consort (Y/N) of Mirkwood!"

"This social climber? Don't even talk to me about this little nobody!"

"Quiet! If King Thranduil hears you, he will make you pay! The last one who dared disrespect his husband ended up in jail for almost 20 years. Luckily for him, (Y/N) pardoned him. Besides, the people loved him!"

(Y/N) did not care about those gossips on his trail: he knew he deserved his place next to the king. What a long way since he was only a healer!

The young elf can heal since his younger days. Noticed for his gifts, he succeeded in working at the royal court. However, he did not expect to be the friend and confidant of Prince Legolas.

The two young men fought together against the Orcs or any enemy of their kingdom.

One day, (Y/N) managed to save the life of Legolas when the latter fell ill. Worried about his son's safety, King Thranduil hired the best healers of his kingdom to treat him. Only (Y/N) managed to heal the young prince.

Grateful, the monarch allowed him to stay in the court. Then, he started to get interested in this young healer who can play with a knife and medicine. The elf king always found an excuse to spend more time with (Y/N).

Slowly, a romance blossomed between them, much to the surprise of Legolas. 

When the court heard about this affair, it was a shock for many of the royal counselors. Indeed, they took a very dim view of this young commoner. However, the people immediately loved (Y/N) and accepted him as their new king consort.

Since this day, (Y/N) was allowed to sit next to The King. And today, he felt his presence would be helpful for his husband, as the latter was about to greet a delegation of dwarves. This delegation was led by Thorin Oakenshield, the grandson of Thror, King of Erebor. It sounds like his beloved husband would need his help.

It is necessary to say that between Thranduil and the Erebor royal family, there was a feud that lasted for years. 

As he arrived in the throne room, a servant announced:

"His Majesty King Consort (Y/N) of Mirkwood!"

Slightly smiling, the young man saw Thranduil sitting on his throne. 

The monarch talked with a guard:

"Let those dwarves coming here. However, be careful with this Thorin Oaekenshield: I fear he might be like his grandfather..."

"All the guards will be vigilant, Your Majesty!" stated the armored man as he saluted his king before leaving the room.

Thranduil turned his hand and gently gestured to his husband:

"Come here, my love."

"This is what I intended to do, my adored." (Y/N) smiled as he sat on his throne.

Thranduil reached (Y/N)'s hand and held it.

"I am glad that you find some time for me."

"Well, I know this meeting is capital for you. Besides, I would like you to avoid a new feud between our people and the dwarves of Erebor."

The elf king sighed.

"What can I say? You cannot trust dwarves. Especially those who come from under the mountains."

"Who knows? Maybe Thorin would be different..."

Thranduil scoffed.

"I wish I was optimistic like you, my sunflower."

"Let see..."

Suddenly, a guard shouted:

"Thorin Oakenshield and his delegation are here, Your Majesties. Gandalf the Grey is here too!"

"What this wizard is doing here?" grumbled Thranduil.

"We'll see in time..."

Shortly after, the company of Thorin Oakenshield arrived in the throne room. Among the dwarves, (Y/N) noticed a hobbit, which surprised him.

But, much to his delight, he noticed the presence of Gandalf.

"Dear Gandalf, what a pleasure to see you!"

The old wizard politely bowed with a smile:

"The pleasure is reciprocated, King (Y/N)."

As for Thranduil and Thorin, they stared stonily at each other. The Durin dynasty and the Elf King always had difficult contacts. All the story with Smaug did not improve it, and even if Thorin finally regain his throne, he never forgave Thranduil for giving up on his people when they needed help.

"Greetings, o delegation of Erebor. I hope the journey was not too arduous," said Thranduil with a cold tone.

"It went well, Your Majesty," politely said Balin with a respectful bow.

"It is a pleasure finally meeting the brave company of Thorin Oakenshield. The same company who dared fight Smaug The Terrible and gained back their kingdom," added (Y/N) with a gentle smile.

All the dwarves giggled with a blush on their faces. They all heard about King (Y/N) of Mirkwood, known as "The Gentle King" by all realms. Even Dwalin, who could not stand elves, was not able to resist.

The two kings started to negotiate new treaties between their respective kingdoms. Unfortunately, as they were both stubborn, they did not agree on anything.

"WHAT? YOU WANT US TO SELL OUR METAL? THAT IS DAYLIGHT ROBBERY!" yelled Thorin.

"It is ABSOLUTELY out of the question that my people would low the price of our wooden crafts," replied Thranduil with anger.

As for the other dwarves, they stayed silent while watching their sovereign sparring verbally with The Elvenking.

Meanwhile, Gandalf talked with (Y/N).

"I expected that they would fight. I hope you're not annoyed, dear (Y/N)."

"Not really, my dear wizard: I am not surprised by their behavior. They never got along, and I am afraid it will not change."

Suddenly, (Y/N)  noticed Bilbo slowly coming towards him. Gandalf exclaimed:

"Ah, I forgot! I should introduce you to our dear Hobbit! Master Baggins, this is King (Y/N) of Mirkwood. King (Y/N), I would like to introduce Bilbo Baggins to you. Without his talents, this quest would have failed."

Intimidated, the Hobbit awkwardly bowed:

"It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty."

"It is a pleasure to meet you too, Mister Baggins."

Catching his breath, Bilbo replied:

"I have to say, Your Majesty: when I told all the inhabitants of Hobbiton that I would meet you, they all ask me to check if you were as handsome and benevolent as the songs said..."

The King consort asked, amused:

"And do I meet your expectations, Master Baggins?"

Bilbo brightly blushed before replying:

"The truth is, O (Y/N), the songs did not have enough words to praise your handsomeness and kindness."

"That is very kind of you, Mister Baggins."

Fidgeting his fingers, the Hobbit:

"May I ask you something, O generous monarch?"

"What is it, Mister Baggins?"

"Well... The people of Hobbiton want to have proof that I met you. And I would like to know if you could provide me some evidence."

The King consort smiled:

"Did they ask for something in particular?"

"Not really."

"Then, I think I can help you," replied (Y/N) as he cut one of his dark locks. 

Then, he put in a golden pendant, engraved with his portrait, before handing it to Bilbo Baggins.

"When you will come back home, tell your people that it is the present from the King consort of Mirkwood to the bravest Hobbit."

The Hobbit stared with amazement at this gift. 

He stammered:

"Your Majesty... I have no words to tell you how grateful I am!"

"There is no need, Master Baggins: your actions speak louder than your words."

(Y/N) did not notice that Fili was looking at him with adoring eyes.

Indeed, the nephew of Thorin swore he never met such a handsome man in all realms. It such a shame this perfect elf married Thranduil. 

He came towards (Y/N) and politely said:

"I am pleased to meet you, King (Y/N)."

"The pleasure is mine, Prince Fili."

The young Dwarf prince felt his heart skipping a beat: this voice! It was like hearing millions of birds singing in harmony.

Clearing his throat, he asked:

"Your Majesty, may I ask you something?"

"Of course. What is it?"

To the surprise of all the people gathered in the room, Fili asked:

"Are you aware that your handsomeness is the most deadly weapon of all realms?"

All stopped talking - or yelling - and looked at the scene with surprise on their faces.

As for (Y/N), he was astonished by this question.

"Well, I am not aware that I am dangerous to this point. Could you tell why?"

Smirking, Fili declaimed:

"Like a battering ram,

Your smile makes the walls around my heart crumbling down.

Like a sharpened sword,

Your eyes destroyed the shield that protects my mind.

Like an arrow,

Your voice pierced me to the core.

And like a defeated army,

I surrender to the love I feel for you."

"WHAT?" exclaimed (Y/N).

"How dare you, you filthy dwarf!" yelled Thranduil.

"Do not use that tone with my nephew!" scolded Thorin.

Unaware of the upcoming threat, Fili pursued his declaration:

"It is the truth! You're so handsome, kind, wise, and pure. You deserve better than those arrogant elves!"

"Fili, shut up!" gritted Kili.

Feeling the anger boiling in the eyes of the Elvenking, Gandalf tried to calm the situation.

"Your Majesty, please forgive this young dwarf. He lets the ardor of youth speaking louder than his reason," he said while giving a slight slap on Fili's head.

Balin pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed: not only he had to deal with the short-tempered dwarf king, but he had to handle his carefree prince.

As for Dwalin, he inwardly chuckled: he despised Thranduil, and seeing Fili courting the King consort of Mirkwood amused him.

Meanwhile, Fili claimed his love for (Y/N):

"Come to Erebor, o blossoming orchid. I would make you the happiest prince of all realms."

"Listen, Fili: your gentleness towards me is moving. But, in case you are not aware, I am married and happy!"

"And I would let no one, and especially NO DWARF, courting my spouse!" fumed Thranduil.

When he heard that, Fili had a deadpan expression on his face and declared:

"Then, I know what I have to do..."

"What do you mean?" asked Balin, sweating with dread.

"Why I fear he might say something stupid?" muttered Bilbo.

They were not out of the woods!

"I, Fili, son of Dis, grandson of Thrain, solemnly demand the hand of (Y/N) of Mirkwood as my husband!"

"WHAT?" yelled the dwarves.

"Oh no!" groaned Kili as he facepalmed.

As for Gandalf, he feared that Thranduil would be mad. And it was the case!

"Stay away from my husband, you idiot!"

Thorin snickered, which angered the elf king.

"May I know what causes your hilarity, Thorin Oakenshield?"

"At least, it proves that my nephew has good taste. And perhaps (Y/N) will appreciate our beautiful kingdom, far from your bunches of hypocrites!" replied the latter.

"What do you mean?"

"Either you are deaf, or blind... or stupid. But I find it hard not to notice that your royal boot-lickers are not happy to see a consort that is not from royal lineage!"

"Please, can we go back to the negotiations?" pleaded Balin.

"Not until this idiot stops courting my husband!" yelled Thranduil.

"Oh, shut up, you pointed-ears princess: nobody asked for your opinion!" growled Bombur.

"Guys, stop it!" begged Bilbo.

"Besides, Fili: it is not possible to marry (Y/N)!" explained Kili.

"And why?"

"First of all, he is already married! Secondly, he is an elf from the woods. He does not belong to the mines, neither the mountain!"

"Ah, I did not think about this... Ah, I have a plan! I shall create a beautiful garden on one of the mountain plateaus!"

"Oh, so you can plant something else than a vegetable patch?" said Thranduil with irony.

"You want to fight?" screamed Oin.

All this argument created chaos that gets on the nerves of the wizard.

"CALM DOWN, ALL OF YOU!" ordered Gandalf in a booming voice.

All immediately stood silent, terrified by the charisma of Gandalf.

Once the silence fell on the room, the wizard said:

"I did not try to stop a war for enduring your silly bickerings!"

"But..." protested Thorin.

"DO NOT DARE CONTRADICTING ME!"

As for (Y/N), he decided to put an end to this mess.

He turned to Fili and declared in a soft voice:

"Fili, I would like you to listen to me carefully!"

The latter nodded, afraid of the answer.

"I am all ears, (Y/N)."

"Fili of Erebor, I appreciate your compliments towards me because I feel they were sincere and pure. But for once and all, I am already married to the man I love more than my own life. 

I am aware that I am just a gold digger, a social climber for many royal counselors. A little nobody that does not deserves to wear the crown of Mirkwood. But do I care? No. 

Because all the elven people love me, Legolas helped me, and my husband would never let me go. It is more than enough for me..."

Fili sighed.

"And to say I was thrilled to introduce you to Mum. I am sure she would love you!"

"I have no doubt. But I belong to Mirkwood and his king, against all odds."

"Besides, I am sure that Mother would surely want you alive and not beheaded by a MAD ELF KING because you try to steal him his husband, you jackass!" replied Kili, fed up with his brother's shenanigans.

"Anyway, we sorted this story, and there is nothing to worry about!" wisely said Gandalf.

"I hope so..." coldly stated Thranduil.

A few hours later, the dwarves and the Elvenking managed to find some common ground. Then, Thorin and his company went back to their kingdom, followed by Gandalf and Bilbo.

As he nearly walked out of the door, Fili shouted to (Y/N):

"Dear (Y/N), if one day you come to Erebor, I promise I will show you the garden I create for you. I keep my words!"

"I can't wait to see it, dear Fili!" smirked the king consort of Mirkwood.

Once the delegation left, Thranduil sighed and said:

"Finally, they're gone! I swear to the moon that those dwarves would kill me!"

"Well, you managed to survive. Speaking of surviving, I am surprised that you did not kill Fili on the spot!"

"My dear daffodil, you have no idea how much I wanted to cut off his head!"

Amused by this fit of jealousy, (Y/N) asked:

"But you know I would never leave you, right?"

The Elvenking gently smiled and held the hand of his husband.

"No doubt about you shall ever cross my mind, dear.I know you will never leave me."

He gently kissed (Y/N)'s hand before the pair exited the room. 

On their way, the king asked:

"Now, my waterlily, could you tell me the names of my royal counselors who disrespected you? I think I might need to have a little conversation with them..."

"I assure you, Thranduil, there is no need..."

Thranduil gently shushed his consort by putting his finger on (Y/N)'s lips.

"I have to do it, my love. After all, no one dares to be rude towards the King's precious gem without suffering consequences!"

Slightly blushing, (Y/N) smiled at this compliment. 

And as they went to the dining room, (Y/N) felt like something new arrived in Mirkwood. He believed that one day, the court would not look at him as (Y/N) the little nobody with a crown, but as (Y/N) of Mirkwood, the king consort of this kingdom and the King's precious gem. 

Long live the kings...

Thanks for the reading!

I hope you enjoy the story and I can’t wait to see future requests!

See you soon and take care! 😘🥰😍

[andrewmoocow]

Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 28: Fusion Frenzy (originally published on October 4, 2021)

AN: It's fusion time everyone! Last time, Black Rutile initiated Phase 2 of her new plan to eradicate her enemies by interrupting the President's emergency address and now, she's on her way to Beach City as we speak to begin Phase 3. Can the Crystal Gems stop this monster and save both Steven & the Earth? Find out today on Steven Universe Alternate Future!

Synopsis: Bluebird Azurite, Black Rutile & White Topaz return to capture Steven.

Cast:

Zach Callison as Monster Steven, Watermelon Stevens

Estelle as Garnet

Michaela Dietz as Amethyst

Deedee Magno-Hall as Pearl, Volleyball, Mega Pearl

Grace Rolek as Connie/Future Connie

Tom Scharpling as Greg

Shelby Rabara as Peridot/Future Peridot

Jennifer Paz as Lapis

Uzo Aduba as Bismuth/Future Bismuth

Kimberly Brooks as Jasper

Noël Wells as Black Rutile/Future Black Rutile

Lauren Ash as White Topaz

Della Saba as Aquamarine

Charlyne Yi as Eyeball

Larissa Gallagher as Bluebird Azurite

Patti LuPone as Yellow Diamond

Lisa Hannigan as Blue Diamond

Christine Ebersole as White Diamond

Sarah Stiles as Spinel

Aparna Nancherla as Lemon Jade

Erica Luttrell as Future Sapphire

Lin-Manuel Miranda as President Eduardo Suarez

Wendie Malick as Vice President Theresa Maxwell

GZA as Major General Wade Grant

Aimee Mann as Opal

Billie Eilish as Turquoise

Esme Bianco as Malachite

Catherine Tate as Lepidolite

Toks Olagundoye as Nanafua

--

Closed off from the chaos outside, Jasper remained curled up in the bathtub, sobbing quietly over being rejected by her Diamond, over how nothing seemed to go right for her on Earth, and how she'd rather have gone back to Homeworld with the Diamonds rather than stay with all the other healed Gems. However, her misery wouldn't last any longer.

"Can you keep it down?! I'm trying to mope!" Jasper bellowed before she finally burst from the bathroom and marched on outside as she heard roaring from the beach. However, what she saw was a shocking sight. "What is that?"

"Is that you Jasper?" Lapis exclaimed as she hovered over to her orange frenemy. "Where have you been this whole time, you'd be pretty useful here but it seems like you don't want to!"

"I was busy being depressed, brat." Jasper snarled at Lapis. "Depressed over how my Diamond left me again. Now where is he? I want to give him a piece of my mind!"

"Funny you should mention that," Peridot replied loudly. "That monster thing is Steven!"

"You're kidding!" Jasper replied before she began sounding more insecure. "Please tell me you're kidding and that this isn't all my fault because he shattered me, I'm begging you guys!"

"Are you okay?" Pearl asked the big Quartz as Lapis brought Jasper over to the Gems. "You're sounding a bit more frantic than usual."

"Sorry," Jasper began, cringing at the thought of apologizing for something she did. "I just think this might be my fault, since because of me he went mad with power and shattered me."

"It's not your fault Jasper," Garnet said comfortingly. "I think we all might be to blame here. But it could be worse." The fusion followed up by kissing Jasper on the forehead, much to her disgust.

"Ew, what did you do to me?!" Jasper yelped in disgust as she harshly rubbed at her forehead before her vision began to distort. "Wait, what's-"

--

What Jasper then saw was not a beautiful seaside where a monster stormed about, but the remnants of Little Homeworld, now reduced to ruins in the middle of a desolate wasteland. As far as she could see, no life could be seen for miles, all except for a ragtag band of survivors finding their way in this apocalyptic future.

"Any sign of He Who Must Not Be Named yet?" the possible future version of Peridot, easily distinguished from her regular self through wearing Pearl's blazer, asked a young adult version of Connie.

"No, thankfully." Connie said as she looked through the skies with her binoculars. "But we gotta move at some point, he could be here at any moment now!"

"No, I say we stay and fight!" Bismuth declared. "I don't care if that's still Steven, you all seen what he did to our friends!" she added despondently. "Ruby, Amethyst, Pearl, Lapis, they're all gone now, all thanks to him!"

"Bismuth, you're being irrational." Sapphire calmed the blacksmith down. "But I do agree, there's no future I see where we calm Steven down and rebuild society."

"Well, let him come." Peridot stated tiredly. "Anything to be with Lapis again. I'm just so tired of fighting."

As the surviving Crystal Gems bowed their heads in shame of how powerless they were to save their loved ones, a hoarse, piercing laugh rang out, causing the four to take up arms against whatever foe crossed their path. That foe in question turned out to be Black Rutile, now without her cape and her visor showed many visible cracks.

"Ah, yes." Black Rutile said as her laughing turned into smirking. "Tired of something you barely even did to begin with. Maybe if you two weren't tossed to the side after the Cluster and reduced to a comic relief role, that little witch could've stood a better chance."

"Be very careful with what you say next." Connie threatened the Rutile by pointing her sword straight at her gem.

"Oh come now Mama-Say-Mama-Sah-Warren, I've lost people too." Black Rutile grinned while lowering the sword. "I've lost people too. Heck, you saw how Steven killed my old gang, and now he's after me too for all I've done."

"Well frankly, you had it coming for all that." Bismuth responded before turning her finger into a spike. "Now pipe down while I smash you to pieces."

"Bismuth, stop." Connie advised Bismuth. "I think she might be our best chance at surviving yet."

"Are you serious?!" Peridot shrieked in defiance. "It's all because of her that Steven went nuts, shattered Jasper, and then started rampaging across the planet and maybe beyond! All our friends and family are dead because of Black Rutile, and you think she might help us?!"

"We kept you around despite being a Homeworld loyalist." Sapphire told Peridot.

"So anyways, you might be our best chance at stopping Steven." Connie said to Black Rutile before sticking her hand out. "You in?"

"I'm going to assume that if I don't play by your rules, I'll pay with my life?" Black Rutile asked as she shook the human's hand.

"You bet." Connie answered. "When I found White Topaz before Steven shattered her, she begged me, with her last words that when I'd kill you, and make no mistake I will kill you, I'll give you the slowest and most painful death I can offer. And if you try and run away, I'm going to honor that promise."

As the handshake broke, Black Rutile was left completely speechless at both Connie's death threat and her late bodyguard having the audacity to wish death upon her. Before long, her silence was broken by another bout of maniacal laughter at Connie's expense. "Honor? Really kid?" Black Rutile declared. "You know we live in a society, or at least what's left of one, where honor is but a distant memory."

"You talk too much, you know that?" Sapphire snarked before she received another future vision, one that might spell their doom. "My stars, he's coming!"

While Connie, Peridot, Bismuth, and Sapphire prepared for the fight of their lives, Black Rutile looked up at the pink-colored sonic boom in the sky and laughed as a pink glowing figure landed on the ground in front of the rebels, the resulting impact causing more destruction to Little Homeworld.

Connie pointed her sword at their opponent, and her face softened upon discovering who it was. A pink, gargoyle-like monster whose size was equal to Bismuth's with massive horns on his head, scars on his chest forming a star, and a pink gem on his stomach.

"Steven?"

--

"So all that could've happened, because of me?" Jasper despaired as she was returned to the present day before dropping to her knees. "You were right, I am nothing but trouble."

"Okay, maybe you are, but you can still change." Amethyst rejected Jasper's notion. "And you can start by helping us stop him!" She then pointed to the pink monster, who took one look at Jasper and began to run away from her, no doubt the Steven inside it afraid to see Jasper again after killing her.

"Hey, get back here!" Jasper yelled as Steven tried to run straight towards Beach City.

"It's gonna smash Beach City!" Amethyst yelled. "We gotta stop him!" Without even a chance to be asked, Lapis summoned a water rope that she used to lasso Steven and drag him away from Beach City.

"So, is there any way to fix him?" Jasper asked.

"None that we know of so far." Garnet replied. "Not even the Diamonds could solve this problem."

"And now, I don't think there's anything we can do." Pearl declared.

"Anything, except surrender." Black Rutile declared as she, White Topaz, Aquamarine, and Eyeball dropped down from and stood before the group with an army of robots behind them. "Oh look, everyone is here! We got the insipid oppressors, their mindless sheep, and the sorry excuses for monarchs!"

"What's your game Black Rutile?" White Diamond angrily asked her former subordinate.

"It's quite simple really." Black Rutile replied. "Thanks to yours truly, all of you are now enemies of humanity for allowing this to happen!" She pointed at Steven. "And not just your little monster problem, but for all the horrible things you've done to this planet! And all while you were too busy crying like babies for the brat."

"Yeesh, someone likes to talk." Spinel murmured.

"Zip it, playmate!" Aquamarine declared. "Once all of you are out of the way, our master shall claim this galaxy as her own!"

"And maybe become one of the great Universal Lords!" Eyeball added.

--

All across the world, riots began breaking out over Black Rutile's broadcast. Picket signs were made, effigies were burned, and calls were made to eliminate the Crystal Gems' threat to humanity, even though not a single one of them knew of their existence before today.

In Washington, Theresa was showing Suarez a livestream on her phone of a group of people in Russia cursing in their native language of how the Gems deprived them of their ancestors' native land, leaving the president more depressed over the incident just as Wade strolled into the Oval Office.

"I just got off the phone with Prime Minister Sorayama." Major General Grant said. "He's saying the cabinet of Japan is ready to launch everything they've got against the monster and the Crystal Gems. They just need you to give the okay."

"No, we are not nuking anything!" Eduardo screamed, making the vice president and the major general jump a bit. "I know the Gems are good, kind people, but is it really true they're responsible for all that? And who's this Pink Diamond anyway?"

"I know they're your friends Mr. President, but what friends places the world in danger so many times, the only one to address that is another member of their species?" Grant asked. "It's your choice, sir. Your friends or your country?"

"He raises a pretty good point, sir." Theresa stated. "What's it gonna be?"

After wiping a few tears from his eyes, Eduardo turned to face the window behind him and made his decision. "Major General, tell Japan to call off the attack. Because we're doing it ourselves."

--

Back in Beach City, Black Rutile continued her speech to the Gems. "Look at all of this." She declared. "This is the chaos I've wanted to engender for so long. I wanted to build a new Homeworld order where you failed, but you chose Steven over your own people just because he's family." As Black Rutile continued speaking, she could feel her sanity begin to teeter off the edge more and more. "My purpose was to fight for the Gems, that is the sole purpose I was given. And now, I barely have any people left. That is what you have taken from me. That is what you have taken from EVERYONE!"

"That is where you're wrong!" Pearl boasted in reply. "You may think you're a misunderstood hero, but you're not! You're nothing more than a sociopathic, bloviating monster who only thinks that she's doing what's best for everyone! As actual heroes, we'll fight to stop you till our last breath, because we are the Crystal Gems and we'll always save the day!"

With that, Pearl took Amethyst's hand and the two merged into Opal, who pulled out her bow and fired an arrow at Black Rutile, who only moved her head an inch to the right to dodge it.

"Oh, fusions, eh?" Black Rutile snickered. "I guess we should even the odds then." She then turned to White Topaz. "Topaz, to me!"

"Right away my Rutile." White Topaz sadly complied and fused with Black Rutile to once again form Lepidolite.

"BEHOLD PEONS!" Lepidolite declared bombastically. "THE UNPARALLELED, UNIMAGINABLY ALMIGHTY LEPIDOLITE HAS FINALLY RETURNED!"

"Oh geez, she can fuse too?" Lapis snarled before turning to Jasper. "Hey Jasper, wanna join in?"

"Whatever." Jasper said and the two formed into the turquoise and gold-colored Malachite.

"Well, you know what to do Eyeball." Aquamarine said as she took the Ruby's hand and twirled in place before they formed Bluebird Azurite and unsheathed her ice cutlass & a flaming saber.

"Gems, now!" Garnet gave the order to attack and led the charge against the four rebels. However, Greg was feeling a little left out.

"Uh, what about me?" Greg asked as the battle began. "If only I could still make Steg." However, Greg quickly saw Lion rising beneath him and making the father ride on his back. "Oh, well that should suffice." Greg smiled before he made Lion gallop into combat. "WOLVERINES!"

--

Lepidolite roared as she threw a punch at Malachite, who caught it in one of her hands and fought back by launching a geyser at Lepidolite's face, sending her flying towards Peridot, who sent Bismuth soaring before the rainbow Gem smacked Lepidolite into the sand with her hammer.

"Feeling a little outmatched?" Malachite boasted with her arms folded.

"Child's play!" Lepidolite growled while summoning her claws and slashing Malachite in the torso. However, Malachite quickly grabbed Lepidolite by the arms and summoned Jasper's crash helmet to give her a nasty headbutt. "Topaz, what are you doing?" the Black Rutile half of Lepidolite asked. "Pull your weight and help me here!"

"But it's the four of us against all the Crystal Gems, the Diamonds, and even a Spinel!" the White Topaz half replied as Malachite began punching Lepidolite at rapid speed. "We're so outmatched here, let's just un-fuse and surrender so we won't have to risk our lives against such an unfair numbers advantage."

"Oh shut up!" Black Rutile yelled before Lepidolite received another punch to the face. However, Lepidolite just as quickly stabbed Malachite with her claws and slowly dragged them up her torso up to her face, hitting both Lapis & Jasper's gems and causing them to un-fuse.

"I got you guys!" Greg shouted as Lion leaped up and he caught the two Gems on his back. Lion then followed up with a roar aimed straight at Bluebird while she was fighting Opal, who was sent flying towards Spinel.

"Comin' at ya!" Spinel exclaimed before she began dribbling Bluebird like a basketball and flung her at some of Black Rutile's robot minions, who were firing at the Diamonds.

"Well, at least we tried with Malachite." Lapis said while getting up before she turned to Peridot. "Hey Peridot, wanna give it a shot!"

"Gladly!" Peridot exclaimed and raced over to her bestie.

"Wait, what?" Jasper asked as she watched her former cohorts fuse into Turquoise. "Since when can you do that?!"

"Don't ask, just fight!" Turquoise declared while forming a set of three swords out of liquid metal from the air to use, two in her hands and one between her teeth.

"Right." Jasper agreed as she prepared to charge. "Let's kill her properly this time."

--

Amid the chaos, Volleyball and Lemon Jade were left trying to escape harm with no idea what to do in battle, as they had never engaged in combat before.

"What are we going to do?!" Lemon Jade yelled while shaking Pink Pearl in her hands.

"I have no idea!" Volleyball replied. "I did fuse before, but it wasn't really for fighting an enemy." That was when she got an idea. "Wait, hold on!"

Volleyball ran towards Opal, who was busy shooting down Black Rutile's robots with her arrows when she felt something pulling down at her drape. "Oh, do you need something Volleyball?"

"Can I fuse with you Pearl so I can protect Jade?" Volleyball asked Opal.

"In the middle of something, but that's a definite possibility." Opal replied, unaware of the robot that was now hovering behind her.

"TARGET OPAL CONFIRMED. COMMENCE UN-FUSING." The robot droned and sent out an electric shock that forced Opal back into Pearl & Amethyst.

"Well ain't that a coincidence." Amethyst snarked as the two Pearls fused into Mega Pearl. "It's like she planned for this!"

"She planned for everything Amethyst." Mega Pearl responded before slashing away at robots that were cornering Lemon Jade.

--

Meanwhile, Turquoise was engaged in a swordfight against Bluebird Azurite, her metal katanas against Bluebird's ice and fire swords. "This is what you get for taking Steven and causing Lapis to leave me!" Turquoise yelled as she tried to stab Bluebird in any opening she could find.

"Oh, did kidnapping Steven hurt you that much?" Bluebird snickered. "I wouldn't have guessed judging by how you never show up." The smaller fusion quickly disarmed Turquoise and prepared to go in for the kill, but she had another thing coming.

"Got this from a manga." Turquoise grinned cheekily while cupping all four of her hands to her side and sticking them out, launching a torrent of water at Bluebird's face.

As for the Diamonds, they were busy protecting Steven from the robots by swatting them away. "These things are multiplying by the second!" Blue said while smashing drones to the ground so that the surviving Watermelon Stevens could dismantle them. "We have to get Steven somewhere safe so we can calm him down!"

"Everyone's trying their hardest, but Black Rutile just keeps coming back up." Yellow replied.

"Don't despair, we can win this!" White added, confident that they could still win the day somehow when she spotted something in the distance. "Wait, what are those?”

--

"Get a move on everyone, we're wasting daylight here!" Wade Grant barked to his men from his Humvee as the US Army advanced towards Beach City. As their goal was only to capture the Crystal Gems, they didn't need massive tanks, only jeeps, armored vans, and helicopters to get the job done. As the seaside town grew closer and closer, some of the army men felt the need to converse among themselves.

"So, do you think it might be sexist to capture a bunch of alien women?" one of the soldiers driving an armored van asked his companion.

"I'm not sure." The other soldier replied. "From what I've heard, they only look like women. They kinda don't have any gender since they're like, holograms projected by rocks. Holograms that happen to look female."

"Yeah but are there male Gems out there somewhere?" the first soldier continued. "How do they even procreate, if possible?"

"Beats me, they don't look like they have the goods, if you catch my drift." The second soldier wiggled his eyebrows. "Y'know, nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more!"

"Yes, I catch your drift, no need to reference old-timey British comedy." The first soldier groaned before turning on the radio. "Sir, we're nearing Beach City. Permission to be the first to step out?"

"Permission granted Private Eric." Wade accepted over the radio as the two soldiers' van rolled up to Beach City, where its citizens were already evacuating.

"Excuse me, we'd like a word with the mayor of this town." Private Eric said as he and his partner stepped out.

"That's me, Mayor Pizza." Nanafua declared as she walked up to the pair. "Now what brings the military here?"

"We're on official business here Mayor Pizza." Eric stated. "Are you aware you have been housing aliens that have been threatening your planet regularly?"

"Oh, the Gems? They're pretty harmless." Nanafua laughed. "Though that giant monster is a bit concerning."

"Everyone step aside, Black Rutile has convinced us those Gems need to be placed under arrest." Wade stepped forward and prepared a special anti-Gem weapon made from the remains of the Destiny Destroyer. "We won't use lethal force against you all, but we strongly urge you to let us through if you want your planet to live."

The armed forces began marching towards the pink monster menacing Beach City as the townsfolk nervously stepped aside to allow them to pass. Though they treasured the Gems, they couldn't bear to be victims of yet another incident relating to them.

--

"Get back here!" Lepidolite roared as she chased Connie around and clashed her claws with the girl's sword. "Don't think you've won yet just because you've trained with that rotten Pearl!"

"That's what you think!" Connie yelled before she slashed at Lepidolite's arm, causing the fusion to yell.

"How can we be hurt just like that?!" the Black Rutile half of Lepidolite muttered before looking accusingly at no one in particular while beginning to destabilize. "Seriously Topaz, why can't you contribute?!"

"Seriously, can't you read my lips?!" White Topaz yelled. "I want out!" Suddenly, the two Gems split apart and fell to the ground. Black Rutile fell face-first and spat out some sand before glaring daggers at her bodyguard.

"Does it look like I care?" Black Rutile said. "Besides, we should be getting some back up real soon."

"Wait, back up?" Mega Pearl wondered before she got shot down by a weapon resembling a Gem Destabilizer and forced back into Pearl & Volleyball.

"Fan out, take down anything with a star!" Wade Grant gave out orders while his men zapped the Crystal Gems with their Destabilizer-like weapons, managing to take down Turquoise, Garnet, Amethyst, Bismuth, and Jasper before forcing them into a truck.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Jasper roared as she was herded like cattle into the truck with the other Gems.

"You're finally getting the Earth justice you deserve." Black Rutile declared smugly. "When this planet's government learned of your exploits, the leader tried to make an address that I hacked into and used to expose you to the world. Hope you enjoy confinement!"

"You won't get away with this!" Pearl yelled rebelliously before she, Volleyball, and one of the Watermelon Stevens were forced into the truck as two of the soldiers looked up at Steven and the Diamonds.

"What do we do with them?" Private Eric wondered.

"No need, I got this." Black Rutile bragged, taking Aquamarine's wand and using it to imprison the three Diamonds in a forcefield.

"Hey, you let them go!" Spinel yelled before she found herself getting trapped in the bubble as well, along with Lemon Jade.

"Uh, what is going on?" Greg asked before the major general walked up to him.

"There is no need to panic sir, we are simply following orders." Wade answered calmly. "Alright, move out! We're bringing them to Area 42!"

"Area 42?!" Connie exclaimed. "What are you going to do with them there?!"

"Just gonna ask some questions followed by deciding their fates, no big." Wade responded as he hopped into his Humvee and drove off while turning on his radio. "Gems have been captured, I repeat, Gems have been captured. Requesting a lift to Area 42 in Calivada, over."

As the military drove away with the Gems in tow, Bluebird Azurite picked up Black Rutile & White Topaz before she flew them away from the beach, the combined weight of the Diamonds, Steven, Spinel, and Lemon Jade in the bubble having no effect on her.

"So Crystal Gems," Black Rutile laughed evilly. "Who are you going to believe in now?!"

--

With the Crystal Gems in government custody, Black Rutile is just a few steps closer to victory. But what plans does she have in store for the Diamonds, what fate shall await the Crystal Gems at Area 42, and do White Topaz's loyalties still lie with Black Rutile? You're just gonna have to wait and see.

[witchcraft-in-wonderland]

Strangers (Pt.6)

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

As usual, Virgil hadnt slept very well, he'd been plagued throughout the night by memories that werent his, and this only worsened when he walked into the living room to see six silver necklaces on the table, each shaped as a different animal.

"JANUS- PATTON-" Virgil stood as far from the table as he could manage, backing against the wall.

"Virgil? What's wrong?-" Patton was the first to speak, rushing to Virgil's side.

"What are- what are those doing here-" Virgil whispered, pointing a shakey hand toward the necklaces.

"Relax Virgil- we're just researching them, you're still wearing the spider necklace are you not?" Janus said as he entered the room.

"I cant take it off. . ." Virgil said softly.

"We'll find a way, eventually, for now we need to research," Patton said, before walking over to the table, followed by Janus. Virgil waited a few seconds before sitting down as well.

"So what do you know so far?" Virgil said, scanning the necklaces.

Aside from the purple-eyed spider around his neck, and the red-eyed wolf Romulus possessed, he counted six other colors on the table in front of him.

A blue-eyed frog, an indigo-eyed unicorn, a yellow-eyed snake, a green-eyed kraken, a pink-eyed dear, and a black-eyed fox.

"Other than the fact that the color schemes bare a frightening resemblance to the color-coded friend group we maintain, not much," said Janus.

"So you brought more potentially cursed necklaces into the house without any idea of their relation to us." Virgil said monotonously.

"Well- we cant be sure all of them are cursed- I mean Roman's the only one acting different-" said Patton.

"That thing isnt Roman. I refuse to associate the two." Virgil growled. Patton flinched slightly and Virgil felt a guilt well up in his chest.

"Well- they all involve specific animals and colors obviously, and Romulus keeps calling me. . . Princess. . . And the girl in my dreams was slated to be royalty last I checked, so. . ." Virgil said, trying not to vomit as the word princess swam in his head in that condescending tone of Romulus'.

"The could be part of a royal court or guard! Virgil you genius!" Patton said excitedly. Virgil blushed slightly and moved to cover his face.

"I think this would be better resolved at the library," said Janus.

After an hour or two of deliberation and subsequent preparation for leaving the house, the trio found themselves huddled up in separate corners of the library.

Which, reflecting back, wasnt the best decision.

"Princess! I didnt see you home last night! I thought you promised you'd be back for dinner. . ." Virgil froze as he heard Romulus speak, he could move or think or breath or talk. All he could do was stare ahead of him and feel the tears running down his face as Romulus pulled him closer, as he felt Romulus' breath on his neck.

"You're breaking my heart again princess, I thought you loved me," Romulus whispered, he didnt sound upset.

"Let's get home, you obviously havent taken your meds," and Romulus was pulling him away from the library. It took several steps and almost reaching the door for Virgil to find his voice.

"How dare you touch me. How dare you try to act as though you missed anything more than a pretty little toy you can mock and stare at to make yourself feel better." That got the libraries attention, and, to Virgil's satisfaction, a frightened expression on Romulus' face. But something in his gut told him he hadnt been the only one speaking those words.

Soon enough Janus and Patton had emerged from their corners of the library, Patton almost toppling from the amount of books he was carrying, and Janus yet again brandishing his cane as though it were a great sword.

"I believe I told you that you werent to approach Virgil again. Was I not clear enough the first time." Janus snarled as he pulled Romulus back by the shirt.

"How many times must I tell you you have no right to keep me from my husband." Romulus snarled back.

"I am no spouse of yours." Virgil said, before storming out of the library.

He wasnt really sure where he was going, only that he was angry and tired of hiding.

And lucky for him, his affinity for shiny objects had managed to lead him to a different kind of bookshop, and a book with eight different colored gems built into the front.

"How much for this?" Virgil said, pointing to the book.

The girl behind the counter turned to look at him, white hair falling over her face.

"$250 and a free visit from the excorcist," she said, eyes slightly wide despite the vague expression of apathy.

Virgil stared for a moment before finally handing over the money. He took the book out of its case, bid the cashier goodbye, and walked away.

Now his only problem was finding a decent place to read.

"Virgil! What are you doing out here!" Virgil heard a call from none other than Remus.

"Reading-" Virgil said, he wasnt necessarily lying in that case.

"Jan! Pat! I found him!" Remus called inside before motioning for Virgil to follow. So Virgil did, and sat between Logan and Patton on the couch.

"What'd you find?" Said Janus, motioning to the book Virgil had placed on the table.

"Call Em and Remy, I think I just found our solution," Virgil said.

"Pat- you have the necklaces right?" He continued. Patton noddes and placed each on the table.

Soon enough they were joined by Emile and Remy, and they could begin to dissect the book itself.

"The Order of Terra, an elite squad originally compromised of six members, later joined by the Prince and Princess of Eirthanas, and disbanded when the Prince betrayed them all for power," Virgil started, tracing over the photo accompanying the description, though he couldnt quite make out the details.

"The leader of the order was Lord Larion Terraval, who's last name gifted the order its official title, Larion took up the unicorn necklace, which gave control of the stars, and the ability to communicate across any barrier," Virgil continued, the rest of the group gave a quick glance in Logan's direction. Which was expected, given the striking resemblance between the two, from deep blue eyes to the slight quirk of their eyebrows, it was almost as if they were twins.

"The second to join was the sister of the Prince, Duchess Remona Octavia, who took up the octopus necklace, granting control of the oceans and all their creatures," the girl shown in this picture had the same red-eyed manic expression as Remus, and even a streak of white through her hair, the only thing missing seemed to be the mustache.

"The third was a local mage, Remington Insolia, who took up the fox necklace, which granted control over sleep and disease," this man was identical to Remy in everything except the gray and white robes.

"The fourth was Jamillan Serpentes, who took up the snake necklace, and gained the abilities of hypnosis," this description was attached to a photo of a gaunt man, who looked much to stuffy to be Janus, but bared an all to familiar resemblance.

"The fifth was Emalei Primrose, a faun who took up the necklace of the deer, and gained the ability to cause mania, as well as psychic capabilities," the faun in the photo had the same pink and white heterochromia as Emile, the same broad smile, and the same curly brown and pink hair, albeit much longer.

"The sixth was Pamela Adbentes, who took up the frog necklace, and a variety of healing abilities," this was connected to a picture of a woman who looked as though she'd quite like to reach through the paper and pinch Virgil's cheek while asking if he wanted homemade cookies, which told him all he needed to know about her similarities to Patton.

Virgil felt his breath hitch as his eyes trailed over the next two entries.

"The Prince, Romulus, was meant to be the last to join, and had attempted to take up the spider necklace, only to be denied, and gifted the wolf necklace, as well as a vast knowledge of potions, poisons, and flattery," Virgil's hand went to his throat, he felt tears in his eyes as they ran over the all to familiar, all be it much less muscular, and much less huggable frame of the real Romulus.

"The final member of the Order of Terra was the most unwilling, Princess Viviana, the true bearer of the spider necklace, enforcer of nightmares, controller of the afterlife, she disappeared mere weeks before the Order of Terra was disbanded," and there she was. The lilac eyes, the long black hair. Nearly identical to the form Virgil had long since left behind.

Virgil had gotten the book to find answers, but now, now all he had was questions.

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

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[janeyseymour]

Anne Boleyn: Captain of the Chaos Squad- pt11

pt 1. pt 2. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5. pt 6. pt 7. pt 8. pt 9. pt 10.

Title: Out of the Kitchen

Anne Boleyn was never one to step into the kitchen- Jane Seymour had made that very clear after the first debacle that took place within their house.

What began as a nice day between the third queen from the second would turn out to be an escapade neither of the women were planning on dealing with that day.

“Janey, do you want to make cookies for me?” Anne slid onto the couch next to the blonde who was watching television in peace.

“Make them for you?” The silver queen’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t think so lovey.”

“W-Why not?”

“I’ll make them with you, not for you. And I do expect that the others and I will be able to enjoy some of the sweets as well?” she proposed.

The woman with space buns grinned at this. “That sounds like a good idea! What all do we need to bake cookies then?”

“You don’t know?” Jane couldn’t imagine not knowing how to bake. It came as a second nature to her. With a shake of the head from her predecessor, she began to list out the ingredients. “Flour, suga-”

“I’ll stop you right there,” the shorter woman interrupted. “We’re out of flour.”

“That’s impossible I bought some the other day for Catherine and Anna to make-”

“Do you remember when you were complaining the other day that there was just “so much dust” in the kitchen?” A smirk appeared on the green woman’s face. “When Anna brought it back to our apartment, she dropped it trying to put it in the cabinet for you.”

“You’re kidding,” Jane’s face morphed from shock to disappointment.

“‘Fraid not ol’ Janey. So, should we go to the store and get some?” Anne stood and offered a hand to her friend.

“Well, I suppose that’s just what we’ll have to do, now isn’t it?” She grabbed the hand being offered and allowed herself to be pulled off the couch.

The two found themselves at the grocery store with a basket full of flour among other baking needs. All was going well until Anne Boleyn decided to attempt to sneak other sweets into the basket without Jane noticing. And it was working. She had hidden a bag of gummy bears, a coca cola, a few packs of gum, some chocolate, and a pack of starbursts by the time they made their way up the register.

Jane was loading the groceries onto the conveyor belt when she eyed the woman accompanying her trying to grab her hidden gems and place them closer to the cashier to scan first.

“Anne Boleyn,” Jane’s voice was eerily low, low enough so that only Anne could hear her. “What have you done?”

The look Seymour was giving her alone was enough to make her tremble slightly, but along with the tone she was using? Well, the second queen knew she had made a mistake.

“Well, uh,” she scratched the back of her head as she thought of what to say. “You see, I think a little kid thought that our basket was hers and put her goodies into ours?”

“Hm,” Jane hummed. “So I suppose that this small child has all the same favorite sweets as you?” Anne nodded. “And I suppose that if I put it back, this small child wouldn’t know the difference, right?”

“Well, I mean... we don’t have to do that. We would have to get out of line and put it all back, so it’s really not worth the hassle,” the second monarch laughed nervously.

“Well, I can just tell the cashier I don’t wish to buy these add-ons. You know that dear.” The blonde’s voice was sickeningly sweet, but Anne knew the fire that was growing in her.

“Yeah, but I know you always feel bad doing that because then the workers have to put it back for you.”

“Well, you’re right I suppose. Just don’t pull any more shenanigans like this again. Understood?” Once again, her voice was dripping with honey, but it was not to be taken lightly, and the green queen knew that. With a quick nod, Jane continued to put the groceries on the conveyor belt.

The two had returned home and were getting ready to begin their adventure in baking.

“So, what’s the first step?” Anne looked at the woman in front of her curiously.

The third queen smiled softly. It was always nice to spend time with Anne. “Well love, the first step is to put on an apron. Lord knows you’re going to need it. And then I’m going to need you to wash your hands while I set everything out that we need.” And so, the two began their baking extravaganza.

“You have to level out the dry ingredients hun. If you don’t level it off, the cookies won’t bake properly.”

“Who says?”

“Me,” the woman in grey laughed while showing Boleyn how to even out the dry ingredients.

“Well,” Cathy smiled as she made her way to the coffee pot. “It’s actually a science. Chemistry.”

“That’s a better answer than yours, Janey,” Anne laughed. “So, now what?”

“Dump it into the bowl. Just make sure to do it gently because if you don’t, it’ll-” she was interrupted with a face full of flour and a nervous smile from her predecessor. “-go everywhere.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know that would happen.”

“It’s alright love.”

“So now that we’ve mixed the dry and wet ingredients separately, we have to mix them. Only do a little bit at a time though. Lord knows we don’t need more flour flying around the kitchen,” Jane instructed. “Think you can handle it while I clean up a bit?”

“You got it boss.” Anne mock-saluted her successor before turning to the ingredients.

“Annie, how have you only done like a quarter of the mixing?” Jane was shocked. It had taken her ten minutes to clean the various measuring spoons they had used before she had been dragged away for another ten minutes to help Katherine braid her hair.

“You told me small amounts!”

“How much have you been putting in at a time?”

“Like three of these?” the second queen held up a teaspoon. “I just didn’t want to make another mess.”

“Oh love,” Jane sighed goodheartedly. Her sweet friend was really trying. “You can do a bit more than that. Here, let me show you.” The blonde took the bowl of dry ingredients and dumped a good amount into the mixer before turning it on.

“Alright. I got it from here.”

“So now, you take a tablespoon and get some dough on it. Roll it into a ball like this, and then plop it down on the baking tray,” Jane explained as she demonstrated the first one. Anne followed her lead, and soon enough the two had a few baking trays full of cookie dough balls ready to be baked.

“You preheated the oven like I asked, right?” At the question, the green queen nodded. Surely she couldn’t have messed something as simple as pressing a few buttons up. Oh how wrong she had been.

“Wonderful love. Grab a tray and then we just have to pop these into the oven.” The third monarch picked up two trays and carried them across the kitchen. Opening the door to the oven, she was shocked to see all of their pots and pans still sitting on the racks. “Oh dear.”

“‘Oh dear’ what?” Anne glanced around the blonde. “Oh dear.”

“That’s quite alright love,” Jane assured her. “It’s an honest mistake. I’ve done it before. We’ve just got to get these out before popping the cookies in.”

A few minutes and curses later, the pots and pans had been taken out of the oven and replaced with the cookie trays.

“We have to set the timer for about eleven minutes. If they’re not done by then, we leave them for another two minutes.”

“Sounds good. Thank you for baking with me, you ol’ mom,” Anne joked as she gently pushed her friend.

“Of course sweetheart. It’s always nice to share my passions with you queens.” Jane pulled the green queen into a tight hug before pressing a kiss to her temple. “Thank you for asking me to bake with you.”

“Well, we both know if I tried to do that myself, we wouldn’t end up with cookies,” the second monarch laughed.

“I don’t doubt that what you’ve said is true,” Jane agreed in a silly manner before turning serious. “Now, while they’re in there baking, we might as well begin to clean up the mixer and bowls.”

In the middle of tidying up around the kitchen, Jane’s phone rang.

“This is Jane!” She answered the phone as happily as always.

“Seymour, it’s Cleves. My car broke down,” a rather panicked Anna of Cleves’ voice could be heard through the speaker.

“Where are you?”

“By Bryant Park. I’ve already had it towed and all that, but I don't know how I’m going to get back to my place.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen. It’s too cold to stand and wait for me, so go into the Whole Foods across the street and wait there.”

“Roger that. Thanks Seymour. You’re a lifesaver.”

“You goin’ to pick up Cleves?” Anne already knew the answer, but it didn’t hurt to confirm.

“I am. I trust you to not burn down the apartment in the thirty minutes I’m gone. When the timer goes off, check the cookies. If they’re golden brown, they’re done. Turn off the oven and let the cookies cool. I’ll be back soon.” The blonde pulled on her coat and made her way to the car to rescue the fourth queen.

Jane knew leaving the second queen home alone with an oven full of cookies that were bound to finish baking any minute was a risk, but she wasn’t about to let her successor freeze on her trek back to her apartment.

“Rounding the corner now,” Jane had been on the phone with the red queen. “Get ready to get in, I’m at a stoplight.”

“I see you. Unlock the door Seymour.” The blonde unlocked the car door and was hit with the bitter cold that was swirling around outside. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Not a problem Cleves,” Jane looked at the woman sympathetically. “Gosh, you must be frozen. How about you come back to my place and warm up a bit before we head back out into the cold to get you home?”

“If you and Bo are doing something though, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“It’s really not a problem. She’ll understand. And, if Annie didn’t mess it up, we should have cookies to offer you.”

“Bo baked?” the fourth monarch raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I helped direct her. She did a pretty good job. Let’s just hope she can follow through with the last bit.”

The instant the third and fourth queens entered Jane’s apartment complex, a smell of something burning hit them.

“I swear to-” Jane cut herself off. “If that’s coming from my apartment...” The two sped up their walking.

“What the hell?” The blonde threw open her door, her fears of the burning coming from her apartment being confirmed.

“I don’t know what happened!” Anne yelled frantically, the smoke from the oven still heavily present within the room. “The cookies were goo one second, so I left them in for five more minutes like you said to and-”

“Two minutes Anne! Two! On what planet do “five” and “two” sound identical?” Jane retorted as she hurried to the window and flung it open.

“Jane! It’s cold out!” the second queen protested, instantly wrapping her arms around herself.

“And our apartment is filled with smoke! It needs to be let out!”

“If you two need to be alone, I can call Cath-” Anna began.

“No!” The two women who lived in the apartment all but shouted at her, making the red queen throw her hands up in surrender.

“Okay! I’m sorry!” Cleves defended herself before making her way over to the oven and helping guide the smoke out the window.

Anne kept her eyes trained on the ground once the room was cleared, as she was determined not to let the blonde see the tears threatening to spill out, but her voice could be heard clearly saying guiltily, “I’m really sorry Janey. I didn’t mean-”

“It was a mistake Annie; it’s alright. I know you didn’t mean to almost set our apartment on fire,” she joked lightheartedly. “We just know not to do that again, yes?” With a nod from her counterpart, Jane continued. “Why don’t I whip us up some hot chocolate to warm us up? Yeah?”

“Let me,” the fourth queen offered. “It’s the least I can do for interrupting your baking together.”

“That’s very kind of you Cleves. Thank you.” Jane seemed satisfied to not have to be in the kitchen any longer. “Annie and I were just going to spend the day watching television and enjoying the warmth of our apartment if you’d like to join us before heading back home.”

“Bet,” the red monarch smirked before turning to make her infamous hot chocolate.

As the three settled on the couch, Anna of Cleves pulled a box out of her backpack.

“I assumed something like this would happen. Here’s some replacement cookies.” She opened the box and placed it on the coffee table in front of them.

“You little-” Anne howled with laughter, failing to pretend to be offended. The three plowed through the box in no time.

From then on, Anne Boleyn rarely made appearances to cook or bake in the kitchen. Sure, she ended up in that room in the apartment often to “annoy” her roommate (who would tell her it wasn’t annoying- it was nice having company while she cooked), but she would never be allowed to use any appliance other than the microwave again.

“What’s for dinner?” the green queen would ask almost every night. “Do you need any help? Can I put anything in the oven for you?” she would ask in a joking fashion.

“Darling, I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen,” the blonde would reply without even looking up from whatever she was preparing for supper that day.

It was probably better that way.

[retroateez]

Prophecy - Chapter Seventeen

length: 3k

tag list: @hewwo-from-the-other-side

prophecy masterlist

Strolling arm in arm with Seonghwa, the kingsguard of Ateez's powerful monarch, was not a situation you had ever expected to be in, not in a million years.

But yet, here you were, clutching onto the tall, handsome man as he led you through hallways and down great wooden staircases. Really, you didn't know what you were more nervous about, being in the spotlight in front of hundreds of people, or seeing Wooyoung dressed like this.

Your gown, an exquisitely made garment just for you, fits your form beautifully. The skirt sways gently with every step you take and every so often, you swear you catch the stitched butterflies fluttering with ease.

"Yeosang enchanted the butterflies," Seonghwa explains quietly. "They gave me quite the fright too when I saw them moving."

You smile, thinking of Yeosang whispering softly to the fabric and watching as the rose pink butterflies come to life.

Before long, you're both stood in front of the great oak doors that lead into the main hall. Seonghwa adjusts his position, putting his heels together and straightening his back. You can tell he's done this countless times before; he knows exactly how to carry himself and you would expect absolutely nothing less from the man who exudes regality.

"I don't know if I can do this, Seonghwa." You exhale sharply, tightening your grip on the kingsguard's arm.

"Of course you can!" He gives you a small, reassuring smile. "All you have to do is walk, and sit. When Wooyoung comes to you and offers to dance, you accept, and then you dance."

"I'm- I'm not cut out for fancy stuff like this." You say, looking up at him with sad eyes. "I'm just a nasty little street thief."

Seonghwa scoffs.

"You think a street rat would ever wear something as beautiful as this? Nonsense! The past is the past, Iris. You're one of us now."

Something about Seonghwa's words calms you, the thought of being accepted by (almost) everybody in the castle warming you to the heart. In a sense too, he's right. The shades of your old life had been completely cast out, starting with Yeosang giving you a proper home, and Hongjoong giving you a job of sorts.

Really, you had it all.

But the insatiable hunger for more still burned within you, and no matter how hard you tried to push it to the back of your mind, it would come back ten times louder.

Seonghwa reaches out and knocks firmly on the door, and immeditately, both of them are pulled open.

You stand there, mouth agape, taking in the scenery before you.

The great hall has been completely transformed, from an empty, lonely space to a bustling center of hospitality and entertainment.

On the far left, where Hongjoong's brilliant throne is, sits a long table, with space for nine people. In the center, is a smaller, but no less impressive version of the throne, where you assume the king himself will be sitting.

Off to the side of that, is a rectangular platform, upon which is Mingi, expertly playing his lute whilst accompanied by three other men playing various instruments you couldn't name. The rest of the hall is full of grand oak tables, each one lined with people chattering and singing along loudly with Mingi's song. Every table is graced with an abundance of hot food and goblets of ale. Whole roasted pheasants, hogs, mountains of golden roasted potatoes and boiled carrots covered every single surface and filled the air with a delicious aroma.

You spot Yeosang and Wooyoung occupying two chairs on the top table, conversing with each other, probably about the prophecy. You also spy San admist the guests, who laugh heartily as he speaks to them. Perhaps a jester is more than jokes after all.

At the end of the table is a sturdy young man with chesnut brown hair, who looks incredibly familiar to you, but you know you've never met him. Next to him is Yunho, who you grin at, happy to see a familiar face. He doesn't reciprocate your smile, instead giving you a small wave. You pray that he hasn't noticed the stolen textbook.

Seonghwa keeps you closely by your side as you glide into the hall and the silence in the room becomes abundantly clear.

Everybody is watching you.

All the guests take their seats and they sit like obedient children, observing as the stoic, cold-faced kingsguard accompanies you to your seat at the head table.

For some of them, this is a completely new experience; to see Seonghwa leading a beautiful woman to the most importaant table in the room. But for the older attendees, it is a sight they haven't seen since the passing of the Queen.

It's only when you're sat, Hongjoong's empty seat to your right and a giddy Yeosang to your left, that you realise you were holding your breath the entire time. Seonghwa tucks your chair in gently, and takes his own place on the other side of Hongjoong's vacant space, with Wooyoung faintly blushing to his right. The noise in the hall picks back up again, allowing you to quietly converse with your mentor.

"You look positively beautiful, my little student." Yeosang beams at you, and you shyly smile at him.

"You look rather dashing yourself, Yeosang." There's no lie; his brilliantly blonde hair is styled (for once) so it trails ever so slightly down the back of his neck, his outfit makes a start contrast to his usual attire, although he has opted to keep his signature white shirt, but over the top is fitted, beige jacket with embellishments of gold down the line of buttons, and leading down to his wrists.

"Do you like the butterflies?" He asks, a glint of pride behind the eyes. "I thought you would like them."

"Yes, Yeosang." You nod. "They're very pretty."

Suddenly, a hush falls over the room once more, and you guess that can only signify the arrival of a certain person.

The same doors you entered though swing open again, and Hongjoong himself confidently strolls in. He's wearing the tawny brown fur coat you saw before, fancy black trousers with gold patterning up the outside seams of the legs. His boots are ordinary, but they shine brilliantly, almost putting the jewels on his crown to shame.

It dawns on you then that you have actually never seen the king wear his crown, and you're astonished at how stunning it is. At the center is a huge blue gem, identical to the one sitting in the middle of the silver circlet on your own head. Each peak of the crown is embellished with glittering green sapphires, and between the tufts of his fluffy, mousy hair you can spot the sparkling rubies and garnets fitted around the base of the crown.

Hongjoong paces slowly, aware but unaffected by all eyes watching him in awe. He gets to the table, and stands on the other side of where you are seated, and he turns to face the crowded hall.

"Welcome!" he cries, motioning out in front of him. "Esteemed guests and distinguished friends, welcome to the annual Ateez ball."

The guests clap and cheer at their welcoming, Hongjoong patiently smiling as he waits for them to shut up. Sometimes he really hates his obligation to these dreaded social functions.

"It is with great sadness that the kingdom of Seventeen is not able to attend tonight," He says. "Commander Jeonghan sends his regards to all of you."

Hongjoong claps his hands together, the sound echoing throughout the hall and ringing in your ears.

"Nevertheless! Let us enjoy a night of feasting and festivities! Please, thoroughly enjoy yourselves." He finishes with a deep, sweeping bow, upon which the attendees go wild once more, taking up their goblets and gulping their mead down hungrily.

Hongjoong moves around the table, and takes his seat beside you with an exhausted sigh. All chairs, except for two which belong to Mingi and San who are busy entertaining the guests, are now occupied, and you can't help but wonder who the brown haired man next to Yunho is.

"Hongjoong?" You turn to your right and timidly ask the king your question.

"Jongho?" He questions. "He's the tailor who made your dress. He's a quiet lad, from somewhere up north I believe, but he's damn good at what he does."

Jongho's face perks up over hearing his name and he whips around to face you. Hongjoong signals for him to come over, and he does.

"Jongho! This is Iris, Iris, this is Jongho." The king introduces you, and you can't help but blush at the handsome smile the young man gives you.

"Pleasure to meet cha," He says. "You look even more beautiful in that dress that I ever could'a imagined. Hope yah like it?" You notice the difference in his accent, figuring that must be how they talk up in the north.

"It's gorgeous. Thank you."

"Oh hey, you're that kid from the inn!" Yeosang's voice behind you makes you jump, and you slowly realise that Yeosang is in fact correct.

"The inn with the bear!" You gasp. "Do you know if the bear is okay?"

Jongho chuckles. "The bear is fine. I actually recognise you two from the inn also, fancy meeting here, eh?"

You laugh along with him, one of the many worries settled in your mind as you finally learn about the bear that's been plagueing your dreams for so long.

"Well, I'm glad we are all well aquainted." Hongjoong smiles sarcastically, and Jongho takes that as his notice to return to his seat, bowing politely to you before he does so.

"So when do we start dancing and stuff?" You ask Hongjoong, your eyes following Seonghwa as he hurriedly gets up and scurries out of the hall. Your gaze falls back to the king as he shrugs.

"Probably within an hour or so," he answers. "Only people of high status are allowed to dance, so lords, ladies, princes and princesses from other kingdoms will take the center."

You nod, gulping nervously.

"I hope you've been practicing." Hongjoong says. "You'd better not embarrass me in front of my guests."

"What?" you yelp. "Why don't you go out there and dance if you're so bothered?"

"Because I'm the king." he smirks. "I don't have to do anything I don't want to, and I can make anyone do anything I want."

"You're evil." you snarl at him.

"You love me really." he grins. "Besides, I'm being awfully nice to you, am I not? Letting you live in my castle, giving you lavish clothes, allowing you to do whatever you please?"

"But why? All I do is cause trouble and get in the way."

Hongjoong stays silent for a moment, mulling over his answer before turning to face you once again.

"Truthfully, you remind me of my mother. She was very headstrong, very determined. She would never let my father order her around, not a day in her life would she obey the king's command." He stares into the joyful crowd, his eyes misting over ever so slightly as he remembers his late mother.

"I think she would have liked you very much." He continues. "She loved me dearly, but I think deep down she would have loved to have a daughter. My behaviour as of late, I know she would not have approved of it. My mother firmly believed I would be a good king, and so I strive everyday to make her proud. Your arrival reminded me of the promise I made to her before she passed."

"What promise was that?" You whisper.

"To treat everyone fairly, as she would have done. Regardless of age, race, or gender, my mother was a kindred spirit to every soul she met. Did you know that both Mingi and San were found abandoned outside the gates of the kingdom?"

You shake your head.

"My mother refused to have them sent to the orphanage, so she brought them here and they were raised alongside me."

"She sounds like an amazing woman, Hongjoong."

"She was." He smiles fondly. After a few moments, he shakes his head, rubbing his hands together. "My mother also loved to dance, and so with that, the ball shall properly commence!"

Hongjoong stands up, grabbing a glass goblet and a shiny silver spoon from the table and clinking them together to seize the attention of his guests. You watch as he commands the room like a true king, speaking confidently and without hesitation.

You look out at the sea of guests that hang onto his every word, and smile proudly.

Even if you haven't always seen eye to eye, he's a good man who just wants the best for his people, even you can recognise that.

Hongjoong raises his filled goblet towards the ceiling and grins cheerily at his spectators.

"To Ateez!" he toasts.

"To Ateez!" The crowd, including the table at which you are sat, mimic Hongjoong's cry and you sip eagerly at the alcohol in your cup.

When you place your goblet back on the table, you see Wooyoung stood in front of you, on the other side of the table.

You hadn't actually noticed just how handsome he was looking tonight, and now you had a perfect view.

He was wearing his signature, loose, white shirt, except the first two buttons were undone, giving everybody a direct peek at the top of his chest. He also wore a brilliant crimson waistcoat with bold, green plant stems stitched across the front. Beautiful emerald leaves accompanied the stems, with gorgeous, multicoloured flowers dotted here and there all over the front and back of the waistcoast. You even noticed dainty pink butterflies opening and closing their wings, sitting on the flowers of his outfit, butterflies that were completely identical to yours. Wooyoung's trousers were his usual black ones, but tighter than usual.

His jet black hair was soft and curly, parted in the middle and allowing him to stare at you fondly with his stunning amethyst eyes.

"Would you care to dance?" He asks politely, offering you his hand over the table.

Of course, you nod, and hurriedly rush past Yeosang and San who are sat at the table, to take Wooyoung's hand. He gently takes your hand in his, and raises your hand to his lips. He kisses the back of your hand delicately, and smiles at you with a sparkle in his eyes and a warmth in his heart.

"You look stunning tonight, Iris." He whispers to you, leading you towards the middle of the room where the other couples are preparing to dance.

"As do you, Wooyoung." You blush deeply.

The two of you are stood in the center of the hall, and it feels like you're the only two present. You place your arms around his neck, resting your hands on his broad shoulders, and try to contain the blushing when he puts his hands on your waist.

"Are you ready?" He teases. "Remember all your training?"

"Of course," You mumble back. "How could I possibly forget when I had such an amazingly gifted teacher?"

"Don't let San hear you say that," he murmurs against the shell of your ear. "Or else his ego will shoot through the roof."

The music starts up again as you giggle quietly. You feel Wooyoung's hands tighten slightly on your waist and the nerves slowly begin to creep in once again.

But then Wooyoung's fingers are on your chin, tilting your head up to face him.

"Hey." He whispers. "No nerves here. We've got this."

And you grin from ear to ear, because he's right.

You manage to keep yourself standing, Wooyoung assisting you most the time by leading you with gentle spins and careful twirls. The two of you join the rest of the crowd in a group dance in which you temporarily switch partners. To your delight, you ended up with Mingi, who despite the vast height difference, was very pleasant to dance with. At one point, Mingi even picked you up and spun you so fast you thought the room was spinning around you.

"That was so fun!" you exclaim to Wooyoung when you return to your original partners.

"I'm glad you thought so." He replies, a hint of playful bitterness laced in his voice. "I much prefer dancing with you than San, his shoulders are much too sharp."

You nod in agreement, laughing joyfully and grinning as Wooyoung matches your gleeful expression. The dancing continues for a short while longer, most of the dancers filing out to eat and drink as the music becomes calmer and slower. But you and the elf carry on as if you were the only two in the room, whispering to each other as you gracefully move across the floor.

Hongjoong watches the two of you from his seat at the main table. He's sitting alone, Yeosang, Yunho and Jongho having collected themselves at the table of King Chan and his guests, talking animatedly.

Hongjoong watches as you and Wooyoung dance, observing with an amused twist of his mouth as Wooyoung dips you down, holding your waist, and gently places his lips on yours.

Hongjoong can't help but admire the bravery displayed by the elf.

He watches you smile into the kiss, and notices how Wooyoung's grip on your waist tightens. The king might even go as far to say he's impressed.

With an exhale, Hongjoong's gaze moves from you to the others, to San cracking jokes, to Mingi expertly playing his lute, and to the other three who seem to be getting along well. He's glad he went through with the ball, the stress of the prophecy getting to him more than he would have liked.

The king sits silently, pondering over the last few months, when Seonghwa, visibly distressed comes hurrying over.

"Hongjoong," he rasps. "We've recieved a message from Seventeen. They've recieved word that there's magic in the kingdom and they're sending soldiers to attack-"

"Ah." Hongjoong nods. "That's why Commander Jeonghan didn't show up. I see."

The king stays silent for a few moments, Seonghwa staring him with panic written over his entire face.

"Well, there's no reason why we can't talk this out. Tell them to send their commander and we can assure them there is zero magic in Ateez."

"But-"

"But what, Seonghwa? There is zero magic in the kingdom. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir." The kingsguard nods hurriedly, and once again rushes out of the hall, no doubt to instruct the messengers.

Hongjoong sighs. He won't tell the others, not yet.

"Let them enjoy themselves." He mumbles to himself, watching Wooyoung twirl you around in his arms.

[middleinthenight21]

Damirae week 2020- Day 2

Royalty AU

Warning: Adult content. 

The kingdom of Nanda Parbat is in the heart of the mountains, separated from society with a small population. However, they have a powerful army, whose warriors are so efficient that each could fight with six men at the same time. The leader calls himself "The Demon's Head", a strict and rigid old man who had reigned for more than fifty years.

Recently, his grandson had assumed the role. A young man who followed in the footsteps of the previous leader and made it his priority to enrich his kingdom through the war. He had obtained an expansion to the north, as he had investigated the new lands that brought a fruitful business in cultivation rice and control of trade routes with neighboring countries.

She pretends to be interested in the information about Nanda Parbat written on the parchment when one of her tutors’ flits around the small room they use to teach her. They had tried to instruct her in politics, history, she had an Arabic lesson for three hours a day and they were trying to teach her religion, all of this with blows.

The teacher's bar gently taps his hands and gives her a sharp look, as if reminding her of what could happen to her if she doesn't cooperate.

Raven is not well regarded in the harem of the palace; she is a foreigner who was brought from revolutionary France in a conquest. She had a background involved in rebel groups in her land conspiring for the fall of the despotic and corrupt monarch. She was not raised by her customs, does not worship the gods themselves (she is not even sure she believes in one), does not speak Arabic fluently, does not possess the traits considered attractive in women in Narba Parbat, and does not have the character or behavior that amass in young ladies from an early age.

Her first day in Nanda Parbat had been sad and confusing. She walked from her country handcuffed by soldiers who hardly gave her sidelong glances and murmured in another language when they first observed her. She was afraid that they would do something to her, and she already misses her friends, they were fine, she knew it in her heart and that brings relief. The monarch had fallen, Richard and the rebel grouping would build something better, it was a matter of time before the demon's head was removed and they could rise from the ashes.

She's just mad that she wasn't there to see that.

When she first observed the kingdom, she thought that she truly was no longer in her land. There was no smoke from the chimneys, nor the vast expanses of forest, there are no abusive noble lords to answer to and that green moss that is impossible to pull off the walls. Everything is very clean, tidy, even the climate is a subordinate, since it is warm, and her clothing made from the wool of the sheep begins to weigh on her body. A drop of sweat falls from her forehead.

She was dragged, tied by ropes around her hands. Held by a soldier dressed all in black, from whom only his slit eyes distinguish, she is forced to walk when the men get into a carriage pushed by a donkey.

Her feet hurt; she feels the pain of two days of walking without rest. She is poorly nourished and the dirt forms as a layer on her body.

She felt like she was about to pass out when her head is boiled by the rays of the sun.

"It would be nice if they gave me water," she asks.

The men gathered in the carriage look at her, some look away without caring about her request, others tilt their heads without understanding what she is saying. Raven repeats her words, but this time she mimics simulating clasping her hands together and drinking water.

No one listens to her.

"Why are you looking away? I am a person asking for something as basic as water. "

Raven knows that it is not because they do not understand, she is aware of the treatment that is given to women in some countries, France had not been the exception, however, the illustration and the books had penetrated deep into her soul. In her land women had been an important part of the revolution. They had united in arms when these soldiers invaded the kingdom and attacked the palace, the people had taken advantage of venting their anger towards the monarchy and bourgeoisie. It was the people who gave victory to the kingdom of the demon's head.

Perhaps she had grown too accustomed to raising her voice and being heard.

The one who she sensed was the captain leaned forward on his horse and hit her on the back with the hilt, silencing her. Raven writhed in pain, her teeth colliding with each other and her hands trembled at her sides, when she looked up the old man was looking at her with satisfaction. She looked at him with rancor and he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Shaytan," he growled.

What did that mean?

The captain threw a leather bag at her feet, it is like a horn and from the sound he knows it contains water. She runs to the water, her throat feels dry as if it were made of sandpaper, she realizes that the entire caravan has stopped and there are dozens of eyes on her.

The old man on the horse is watching.

Raven's senses are activated.

She takes a small portion of water, holds it in his mouth for a few minutes trying to take small drinks and her throat thanks her. However, she takes note of the sweet taste, it is fresh as if just brought from a cold spring. She holds it in her slightly puffed cheeks so the soldiers wouldn't notice.

When there is no danger, she swallows the contents of the horn without decorum. The water that falls from her mouth she uses to moisten her body and the warm crown of her head where the sun's rays hit hardest.

"Thank you," she says to the old man, bowing her head in a kind of bow. She thinks that, if it were not for the fact that she was taken from her land, she could come to admire the man, since she had seen him worried about the health of his soldiers and distributing the supplies.

The captain raises his eyebrows, surprised.

He contemplates the empty bowl of water in his hands and looks at his soldiers "Shaytan dhaki."

Raven frowns, confused.

The next thing she remembers is being dragged towards the entrance to the city of Narba Parbat. The city has a rough beauty, the palace is a whitish construction like those foreign paintings of the eastern palaces with straight lines and the towers look like small houses stacked in earth tones. She had thought of Nanda Parbat as a city made of sand in the middle of the desert, but it has a deep oriental inspiration.

Nanba Parbat is surrounded by a wall made of stone.

The captain grabbed the rope when they reached the city gates and veered off in another direction. Her legs tangle with each other, she struggles to keep up with the gracefully trotting horse, and nearly falls several times.

She hasn't eaten anything in days and her feet are pounding. Her head begs her to stay alert, she doesn't know where this shoulder was taking her, she is a foreign girl and nobody would worry if she appears dead in the distance, she has no one to claim her and she needs to defend herself if necessary.

"Where are you taking me? "

The man turns his back on his horse.

They enter the city through another entrance, almost sighing in relief because at least more people would see if something would happen to her, even with all that, she is still a foreign girl.

They pass through a market. People stroll in robes, street vendors shout the prices of their products, there is music in the air somewhat like a flute. Large fabrics work like a makeshift ceiling, everything is cool in the market and there is a powerful smell of spices and incense in the air.

She is impressed by the colors, smells and textures.

In France there is nothing like this.

The women look at her, look scandalized, and some who walk with their children cover their eyes and take them away from her.

What is wrong with her clothing?

The captain pulls the rope, they continue to cross the market until they reach a house that is close to the royal palace. She thinks that perhaps he is going to hand her over to the authorities and they will execute her, but they deviate towards a small construction from which they see young people enter wearing elegant clothes. They are not the dresses that she is accustomed to seeing in the bourgeoisie, but soft fabrics in green and gold tones, their hair is dark, long to their back and their skin is golden or dark.

These women are delicate, like flowers and care about their appearance. She feels dirty and insignificant compared to them.

Raven frowns.

A woman opens the doors, she is plump, and a green veil covers her hair, her face covered in wrinkles, and when her gaze falls on her mouth twists down. She gives her a look from head to toe, to finally look at the man and from her mouth come a series of words that she does not understand, but surely, they are repudiation. She can feel it, she was always an intuitive person and she knows that she would not have the sympathy of this woman.

The captain responds and pulls on the rope, pulling her body forward.

The woman strides over to her and takes her hard by the chin, examining her face and touching her dirty hair. She claps her on the ribs, growling a sentence, and grimaces. She touches her hair again, pulling the strands as if she thinks the color is false, with fingers she from rubs and gem with the other hand and finds no pigment.

Raven pulls away, but her grip on her cheeks is like a hawk's claws on her prey.

The lady continues to touch the dress checking her body under the fabric, when she lifts her skirt Raven grimaces and instinctively kicks her to get away, she screams and hits her in the face. The slap is loud and leaves her cheek burning for a few seconds. She takes her face, digging her nails into her chin, yells at the captain who now looks funny, and pushes her away, as if wanting her to get as far away as possible.

"Shaytan," she growls.

Again, what does that mean?

The captain says something, and the woman looks her directly in the eyes, her mouth opens and closes for a few minutes. Finally, she grabs her arm and takes her into the room.

She doesn't have time to think about anything.

Raven screams and tries to get her to release her several times, but she is weak from walking, dehydration, lack of food and sleep, and the woman is much heavier than she is. That does not prevent her from giving up, she does not want to enter that place and she struggles with all her strength to release her. With a little luck she could escape from the city, but the woman whistles and more people are joining to take her inside.

She quickly learns what can happen for not obeying, she spends more than a month between lessons, flower baths and new clothes, she is forced to visit mosques and meet their gods, however, she does not believe that any entity comes to save her. She learns that ´´Shaytan´´ means demon in Arabic, she earns that nickname for her apparent rebellion against the authorities and the attitude that they disapprove of. She also learns that she is in a harem and that they were preparing to serve the demon head.

She shows no interest.

She is not interested in what they have to say about the leader, nor does she want to please him in any way. She has other things to worry about.

She doesn't make friends inside the harem, with every lawsuit that forms around her. Like when they tried to recite a prayer out loud and he refused, or when she escaped through a small window one night and was caught in the middle of the river in a boat. The gossip spread like wildfire and the women moved further away from her side.

A guard chases her everywhere after her frustrated escape attempt.

Raven just wants to go back to her land, she has no interest in satisfying the leader, in looking beautiful to him and ducking her head when it will happen, she doesn't want to be reminded every day that she is inferior and that her life is wrapped around a thread that supports the demon's head. She does not belong to him.

She walks through the local market pretending to be interested in fabrics and spices, she had invented an excuse ´´I need new perfume and more dresses´´ and they believed her, so they gave her a bag of gold coins to spend, while the guard walked behind her.

Out of the corner of her eye is a merchant who works in the port.

On her first getaway, she traded a handful of coins for a small pot but was unsuccessful as he was in plain sight and soon to be made aware of her absence from the harem. The merchant was famous for helping unfortunate political prisoners or lovers to flee. He bought bribes from certain authorities and infiltrated you in such a way that no one had managed to find one of his clients.

She needed to talk to him, with the coins she had she could buy her way back to her country.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she says to the guard.

The man raises his eyebrows and looks away. Raven hides behind a tent and runs away as fast as she can.

The merchant had turned to the right and when she reached him, she pulls him by the clothes so hard that he almost falls off. The man would be in his forties, of course she wouldn't be scared of a nineteen-year-old, but she is with him.

"Ah, it's you." He shakes his robes from the dust.

She gasps looking everywhere "I needed to go."

He raises one of his graying eyebrows. The language is hard on her tongue, not used to talking to others, she needs practice, Raven does not waste time and puts the bag with the coins in his hands, and the merchants feel it, as if with that she could check how much it was worth.

"No. "

What?

"Why not? "

He winces indifferently "It's very little. "

"They are gold coins."

"Listen, I know you want to abandon your life of luxury in the palace, but what I do is not legal and I risk my head every time someone important is taken out of this kingdom" he answers, as if he was explaining a subject to a little boy. "The Demon’s Head is known for his indulgence and does not like his treasures fleeing to other countries" he looks at her from head to toe.

"I don't belong to him," she spits.

"Think what you want." He rolled his eyes. He puts the bag of coins in her hands, and leaves. "Bring more gold or please your lord, shaytan. "

Raven sighs.

***

She is in the harem garden. Sitting reading on the grass regardless of whether she soils her purple dress.

The old Zaira, the director of the harem, had sent them to make different dresses for Raven, since green or gold does not go with her pale skin and would not be attractive to her lord, so they choose purple, red and blue tones. She does not the fabrics as well as the other girls. She doesn't mind getting his clothes dirty.

"I saw him." There is a murmur in the garden. The young concubines gathered among the flowers to chat with their group of friends. Raven is hidden behind a bush where she had buried a book, since she is prohibited from reading anything else that is not authorized by Zaira. "He is very handsome and young" they laugh.

She put her back against the bush wanting to hear better.

"Did he look at you? "

"He was very busy training with one of his instructors" she says, her voice is low and disappointed ", but Zaira told me that the leader has not looked at any concubine" now she sounds more animated. "He has been heavily involved in politics to have time for women. I heard one of the ministers talk about developing a new map. "

"He's so committed," another sighs.

She rolls her eyes.

"We'll dance for him next week," reports one. There is a group gasp. "Zaira confessed to me that the girl who dances best will spend a night with him, in addition to that on that night she will have access to the royal treasure and will make us choose any jewel as a gift."

Jewel?

She remembers the merchant's words; she needs a gem to secure her exit from this harem and palace which is a true nightmare.

He almost visualizes the faces of her friends, her mother tongue in her mouth and the flavors of her tender native.

She needs that gem.

***

"I want to dance. "

Raven stands in front of Zaira, the woman is giving lessons to the young women who would dance for the Demon's Head and she not included in the list.

"Who are you to demand such a thing?" She gives her a contemptuous look. "Why the sudden interest in the Lord? "

She sighs "I want to know how he is. "

A simple answer.

Raven had had experience lying, being a rebel during the revolution. She grew up on the streets, not like these women who came from wealthy families, are the daughters of soldiers and were made with a gold chisel.

"You are lucky, shaytan" with a gesture the young women open leaving a space for her to enter the group. Before she can put herself in her place, Zaira takes her arm, stopping her. "If you weren't so unusual, I would have let you go a long time ago. I did not accept you out of courtesy, but by the lord. If you make one of your numbers, I will personally see to it that you disappear from this palace."

She smiles sweetly at her. "Don't worry. I matured, I am dedicated to faith now and I understood that I owe everything to the Demon’s Head."

During her time as a rebel she was not a lone player, she was happy to surround herself with a group and find others who would fight for the same thing, the common good above all. She did not expect to find her rebels here, maybe if not they will threaten her so much could look at them well.

Zaira released her arm giving him a suspicious look, but she settled with a smile between the concubines and pretended that the woman's words meant nothing. She had managed to become one of the concubines who would dance for the Demon's Head, now she had to get his attention and win that night where he would give her the most expensive jewel that would ensure her exit from this cursed kingdom.

***

When the night came when they would appear in the Demon's Head’s room, the leader would be sitting on a throne with his back to the doors of his room and when he chose one of the concubines everything would stop, the unselected women would return to the harem where they would not go out, unless the selected one was not liked by the leader and that is a humiliation. The selected one would be chosen not only for her beauty, but for her way of dancing and as it pleases the Lord. When she is chosen, she would make her way through the room and announce herself, as tradition dictates.

Raven had been enlisting all day among scented baths, fragrances, worthless little jewels, and elaborate dresses. She decides again with the dressmaker that there wouldn't be a green dress for her, instead she has a blue dress with gold accents and thinks that's enough.

They are not allowed to show their faces, so they emphasize their eyes with black eyeliner, and she thinks she looks like a blue cat.

"We want the color of your eyes to stand out the most," the woman says with a brush.

She did not know why these people are so obsessed with the color of her eyes and her short hair that is dark, it is supposed to be because she are foreign.

When they walk to the hall where the ceremony would take place, she realizes that she is nervous, her hands itch and she feels like a prey in her dress. The color of her dress draws the attention of the other concubines, since they chose colors such as green and the gold that is used by the Demon's Head, not a bright blue.

The interior of the palace is luxurious, with its gleaming floors and gold trim. The air has a scent of essences and incense, distinguishes small lighted bowls whose smoke perfumes the corridors.

"I don't think the Demon's Head is fixed on the French one."

She knows that she is not appreciated within the harem for her behavior, although she had calmed down in the past few days as she is focused on getting that gem. These girls did not have to worry about her, because she would get the jewel and disappear forever, it would be as if she had never arrived.

Doors open and she stiffens.

"Don't raise your head. Don't look him in the eye unless you are selected” Zaira instructs in a harsh voice.

She feels his eyes on her body, and Raven smiles to herself.

When they enter, they form a perfect circle in the center just as they had rehearsed. Raven turns her back on the throne but knows it's there. The musicians are positioned to the side, their instruments in their hands ready for the signal from the Demon's Head, and they begin to play.

She takes the group's hands; they make a round, tracing patterns with their feet to the rhythm of the music. The typical music of these areas is different from that of her land, Zaira had said that her hips were rough, and she needs to balance them to the sound of the songs, it is like holding an instrument only with her hips. It's very strange.

The others follow the choreography without difficulty, but have trouble keeping up and think this is boring.

The same routine: they hold hands, turn, move their feet and hips, make waves with their hands, hold hands, and they would follow the process.

Zaira said that this dance represents femininity and fertility, an act of seduction, but this is tedious and she does not imagine what it is to have to witness one of these dances once a week, it is not surprising that the man had not decided on anyone.

She decides to look up a bit and is surprised by the youth of the demon's head, he would be about twenty years old, golden skin and green eyes. He had on a jade green robe that revealed a muscular torso, high black pants and there is a ring with a large diamond on his index finger.

He is not even looking; he is concentrating on his sword listening to Zaira who probably talks to him about the concubines because of the way her head glances at each one.

The Demon's Head is a handsome and rich man, with a ring on his finger, if she earned it she would have her ticket paid to her land.

Compared to these girls, she had nothing to lose.

She leaves the dance, the musicians freeze, the concubines stop and look down, Zaira is red with anger and her teeth clench so hard that she is sure to have some chipped teeth.

The leader leans forward following her movements, carrying a sword in his hand that he is not using, so she does not think he considers her as a threat. He looks impartial, his expression is blank, and it is difficult for Raven to know what he is thinking, perhaps he does not consider her prank so funny. There is no way back.

Raven positions herself in front of the concubines, bows her head in reverence, and walks back with her head down; the other women make way for her and step aside. She can feel her anger up to here.

The musicians begin to play a different, softer tune and try to follow her. She is not good at moving her hips like the natives, but she knows her own charm and tries to show it. She raises her arms allowing her wide sleeves to reveal skin up to her elbows.

It is forbidden to show skin.

The harem director is scandalized.

She turns and takes off her shoes, leaving her feet bare. She does not know where she gets so much daring, especially in the face of a society as conservative as that of Nanda Parbat, but the man in front of her has been in battles, contemplating deaths and his army is known as the league of assassins, it´s not like he is a saint.

Her dress had an opening, it is almost invisible, it would only reveal up to the knees, she knows that Zaira has not seen it and it reveals the skin of her leg almost by accident. She is aware that her features are strange, people whispering for her pale tone and servants would try to make her take on a more attractive shade sunbathing, but it has not worked and she does not look cute when the sun hurts her skin giving it a red tone, like a shrimp.

One of the musicians drops his instrument and has to run to pick it up.

He still hadn't killed her or screamed for her daring, that's good.

She raises her eyes, sees how an eyebrow rises when their gazes intertwine, and she has never seen a more beautiful and masculine face like his. Tradition says that concubines should wear veils that cover their hair, face and waist, but they had already broken a rule, why not two?

She had been a rebel in her country, here too.

She takes out the scarf that she keeps around her waist, caresses her face with the fabric, as well as her torso until she reaches her waist, he remains as neutral as ever, but follows the path of the scarf and it is a good sign. She smiles under the scarf that covers her nose and mouth; it is a true smile.

She approaches turning to where the leader is, the handkerchief in her hands flies and moves her hips, letting him see her bare feet and legs, crouches back in strides allowing him to see her cleavage and now he gulps.

Her hair is tied under a veil in a transparent blue shade, she caresses her hair looking at the man directly in the eyes, her hands go down her collarbone, between her breasts and her stomach.

Raven smiles at him as one of her hands quickly goes up to her face cupping her left cheek. She feels the evil, mischief and lust within her intertwined in this dance, it's like a statement.

When the music ends, she is sitting on the floor bowing with a smile on her face. She is tired, but something inside her jumps with happiness to get his attention, she thinks it would be fun to see how far this man would let her go.

"Who are you? "

She feels the tension in his voice and closes her eyes tight. Shit, maybe she was wrong, and her breach of tradition was stronger than she thought.

"She is a foreigner, sir. I'll get her out of here, if ... "

"Did I ask you, Zaira?" He interrupts her.

Raven sighs.

"I asked you a question." Raven shuddered at the harsh sound in the man's voice. "Look me in the eye when I speak to you. "

She looks up, their eyes meet, and she feels a tug in her insides, he probably also felt it because the man recoils a few inches on his throne. Perhaps the maid who had made her up was right and her eyes did stand out through the makeup, it makes her look mysterious and more feline.

She remembers that even with the cold tone of this man, he is still the one who followed the path of the scarf over her figure.

"They call me shaytan, my lord."

"That can't be your real name."

"I have abandoned my old name. Embraced the customs of Nanda Parbat along with my new name."

Zaira shakes her head and narrows her eyes in her direction.

A smile formed on the lips of the Demon's Head "You were noticed when you interrupted the dance of the concubines. Did you know that it is a tradition that takes more than a hundred years? "

The concubines exchanged a look of alert, since the leader had not given them a sideways glance and is conversing with the foreigner.

"I thought you needed entertainment, my lord." She trailed off the nickname justifying the accent and her intermediate command of Arabic. The Demon's Head realized.

The leader observed Zaira and whispered something in her ear, the woman grimaced in disgust and ordered those present to leave.

What did this mean?

Raven looked down again, as the room emptied. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the concubines open their eyes in surprise, some of them trying to hide their anger and glancing hatefully towards her.

Zaira grimaces, just by seeing her she can see the promise of revenge in her eyes.

The room was completely empty.

Had she succeeded?

She was chosen?

The Demon's Head stood up, the sword is now in its scabbard, and his green cloak rippled through the air as it followed. He opens the doors behind the throne, they lead to a dark room whose only lights are lighted metal fountains, a polished wood floor, the windows are open. She has a view of the entire kingdom that is represented in small lights, there is a bed in the center of the room and small furniture where there is a pile of parchments in different positions.

Sheets hang from the ceiling, swaying to the rhythm of the warm wind. Where they come from, they would not think of having the windows open day and night, since it was always very cold.

The room is beautiful.

"Come in," he orders.

Now his voice has a boring note, as if he had experienced this before and had the predicted ending. Raven's life was never fun, she had a difficult childhood with an abusive father and ran away when she was just a girl. Preferring to live on the streets where she found friends, she had a reason to fight and now she is here in front of a ruler; but his life was written in stone, marked by traditions and customs. What a disappointing life.

He sits on the edge of the bed and leaves the sword on a piece of furniture.

"Take off your veils and clothes."

Is this what this would be like?

Raven is not someone with a sex life as active as Richard or Kory, she had had a short list of loves that had not led to anything important, however, she was not supposed to start a sexual relationship this way. She wonders how little fun this relationship must have been for this man; she surely has a protocol to follow when it comes to these things and she thinks it's horrible.

Not that she is an expert, in fact her experience is limited.

He is now looking at her, as if she had no objections. Raven raises a hand to the scarf that covers her hair, but her hands get tangled and it's a lie.

"I can't take off my scarf."

She realizes that she is nervous, but still needs to make a good impression and leave him so happy that he would guarantee a gem.

Pretend a face of innocence "Can you help me, my lord? "

He sighs and gestures for her to come closer. Raven listens to him, but does not do exactly what he wants, but turns her back on him.

"Are you making fun of me?" He says, undoing the scarf over his hair, there is still one more that covers half her face.

"I never would, my lord."

But he is laughing.

His hands are warm, and he stays longer than necessary at the nape of her neck and traces a path to the clavicle and down to her chest. No one had ever touched her like this, as if she were something soft, and she sighed under his hands, stopping the rapid advance, took his hands stopping him on purpose and gave him a kiss on the palm.

Not yet.

He freezes.

Raven turns around, looks him directly in the eye. His eyes are green like jade, it looks like river water or the color of moss that is born from humidity.

She runs a hand through her hair, her short hair caresses her shoulders and one of her hands buries her buds feeling the texture and the smell of flowers they used to bathe her.

"I've never seen hair this color before," he whispers. He caresses her hair feeling the softness, he looks into her eyes, his eyes are deep, and they leave her breathless. "Where did you come from, shaytan? "

A malicious smile springs from her lips. The protocol of visits to the demon's head had been explained to her, only he could touch and ask to be pleased, the concubine existed to give pleasure, not to receive it.

"Perhaps from a nightmare, sir," she replies.

Raven caresses her chest, feels his bare skin, it’s covered with small scars and tenses when there is skin-to-skin contact, but he doesn't push away. He’s warm, just as she expected, and her thumb traces a scar across his ribs, he gasps and stands up.

"You don't look like a nightmare."

"Oh, I can teach you what I can do, and it will change your mind," she replies. With the back of her hand, she runs through his muscles until it sits on the clavicle, where she traces the protruding bone and notices the scars.

The Demon's Head does nothing.

She thinks she has done something wrong, that he would kick her out, but instead he just looks at her.

He is taller than she, he has a tall head and has to tilt his head to look her in the eye. Violet meets green, Raven could drown in his eyes and die, suddenly she is afraid of being rejected, because he will call someone else and live thinking about what she might have.

He advances, his hands traveling to the veil that covers her nose and mouth, a small dagger in his hand breaks the fabric with agility and it falls to the ground.

He gasps when he looks at her face.

He looks without fabrics to separate them for the first time and Raven feels like they've gotten rid of a wall. Her hands tremble at the sides of her body, her legs are two branches shaken by the wind and the heat settles at the base of the stomach, it is like fire and she doesn't mind burning herself.

He looks like a statue, static, but she feels how his eyes make her feverish, she imagines herself touching and how the most powerful man in the Middle East melts under her palms; she is sure that he is thinking the same. Zaira's voice is strong in her head:

If he chooses you, I don't think so, shaytan. You are not allowed to take the first step, the head of the devil as the supreme leader of your life and the empire must be who determines what the act will be like. No games.

They endorse each other, when their lips meet it is an uncomfortable kiss because it is a collapse of teeth and a fight for whoever has control over the other's lips, and they cannot find a position that accommodates them, but soon he tilts his head and it is much more functional. His hands are all over the place, he touches her torso through the corset, her waist and hip to her rear where his hands stop.

Raven gasps loudly, letting the sound sweep through the room without worrying about being heard; He runs his hands over her torso enjoying the firm skin under the pads of his fingers and runs a hand down her smooth back through the fabric. Sure, the cloth is there and it's annoying, she has to take it off. He throws the robe to the ground without caring about how he does it, the fabric falls apart into threads, leaving half torn in place.

He is kissing her hard and Raven laces his hands around her neck to help wrap her legs around his torso. The openings in the dress don't allow her to do this, but he slides a dagger to break the skirt and ends with two slits down to the hips.

Raven laughs against his mouth, but quickly stops doing it as he shifts his attention to her neck, placing butterfly kisses on her skin until he goes down to her collarbone and is too excited to feel anything else.

Sighs.

He tightens her hair, and feels her tense, now he runs his tongue over her neck to her ear. Raven writhes like a worm.

To punish him she pushes her hips against the base of his stomach, dangerously close to his crotch. The man now stops and watches her, as if she had done something very wrong.

The burning fire plays with his face and Raven gives him a look of innocence deciding to ignore his erection through his pants. This is the same man who had observed her with a neutral face while dancing.

There is a knife in his hands, and he is tearing the dress. The knife comes down through the ribbons on her back and the corset is out, left in a plain dress that falls square in a pale blue hue.

"You destroyed a dressmaker's job, sir," but she's already raising her arms for him to take off her dress.

He has a better idea because he draws her to his body, wraps his arms around her waist, and his hands intertwine at the start of her butt.

"I'll have another one made for you." He kisses her so hard she leans back.

There is a smile on her lips. In her life she has seen beautiful men, she can sit down to contemplate some faces and bodies, but this man is on another level, it seems that he was made by an angel who wants to replicate the most beautiful thing he has seen in an individual.

"Anyway, they did me to take it away from you."

The next time they meet they are slower but want to touch each other. Raven lets him have her entire body exposed like no other man in her life, he may have a kingdom, but her resides within these four walls.

In the tradition it is dictated that the man should always be on top, it is not allowed that the woman is the one who rode him, but they experience everything, and they do not care about customs.

He squeezes her breasts and Raven sighs increasing speed. She would kiss him hard, biting and finding his tongue, the Demon's Head looks like a moldable object under her hands and it's fun, but she’s also slipping.

She gives herself to him and if he asked her for anything, she would do it without thinking.

"Called me Damian," he confesses between kisses, when they are exhausted and sweat drips down their bodies. His chest rises and falls in heavy breaths. "That's my name. "

She looks at him askance. Her body is sore, she is sure she has more than love bite on her neck, stomach and breasts, her hair is a sweaty mess, she cannot even brush it with her fingers due to the number of knots, she feels irritation on her thigh where He had bitten her, it would leave a scar, and her lips are swollen and aching.

"So, you're not called Demon Head, Damian?" mocks.

He clicks his tongue and winces when he turns to look at her. A sheet covers part of his body, but he is naked; looking at his sculpted torso there are scratches, bites and bruises, she does not want to see the chaos that is his back.

Did she do that?

"What about you, Shaytan?"

She grimaces as she looks out, the mountain range looms in the distance and the lights of the kingdom are dimming, welcoming a new dawn.

"I had it somewhere else," she sighs. "When I lived on my land, I had a name, but I discarded it. Now I don't know what to think. "

She drops onto the bed, the mattress is soft, and the sheets are made of a delicate material, it's like butter. Her head does not touch the pillows, the bed is too big for two people to cover the entire space, she is sure that it is made for him, he will invite more than one lover to his rooms.

She wonders how many people have touched him the way she had.

It is now her life, dancing and trying to attract the attention of a man who has at his disposal a multitude of lovers. Maybe she had enjoyed it so much that she held on too soon.

"Do you want me to keep calling you Shaytan?"

She looked at the ceiling. The bed has a ceiling made of carved wood covered by fabrics in golden patterns that fall down the sides, just like the veil that he had torn from her face with his dagger.

Maybe if he hadn't been so permissive with her ...

Could she answer a name nicknamed by others for your attitude?

"They call me Raven," she confesses. Her voice is monotonous, devoid of all humor, and in the bed of the leader of the nation who had ripped her from her land, she realizes that perhaps she had not completely left her name, but she is still a demon. "Can we keep it as our secret, sir? " She watches him.

He focuses his gaze on the ceiling, meditates for a few minutes, and nods.

Raven smiles.

She takes the sheet from him and rises from the bed muttering a complaint about the pain in a certain area, and searches the floor for her clothes, but finds her dress cut. She is not willing to walk to the harem in a torn, dirty and stained dress.

"Where are you going? "

She looks at him.

When she sees him, she thinks that maybe they were too abrupt, since Damian's eyes are swollen and red, as well as his mouth and scratches on his arms, red marks on his neck and torso, as well as pieces of cloth on the bed.

"Isn't it just for one night?" The question. Zaira told her that the selected one would only stay one night with the demon's head, and after a time she would be called, only if she pleased her lord.

"Stay another day."

Raven contemplates the idea, has no objection.

"I have no clothes."

"You don't need them."

Okay, so maybe she could get used to this faster than she thinks.

You're giving me chills at a hundred degrees

Calling your name, the only language I can speak

(FanFiction soon)

[alottanothing]

Left to Ruin: Chapter Four

 Summary: Prince Ahkmenrah returns to his beloved capital city, to find someone he cares about has left. Merenkarhe steps down as ruler and names his son King of Egypt, and his daughter Queen.

Previous Chapters

Word Count: 5696

Warnings: none

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe​, @r-ahh-mi​, @theultraviolencefan​, @hah0106​, @rami-malek-trash​, @diasimar​, @sherlollydramoine​, @flipper-kisses​, @ivy-miranda-2390​, @txmel​, @sunkissedmikky​, @concentratedsassandcandy​, @babyalienfairy​ (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: Thank you all for the comments, likes and reblogs last chapter! They all make me feel like the 🥰 emoji. Again, as a disclaimer, I am not an ancient Egyptian expert and google only knows so much. So yeah, I took so historical liberties while writing this to make my life easier, but tried to keep it as “authentic” as possible. As a helpful guide: Ahk is 17 and his sister is 13 by the end of this chapter. Just so it’s clearer given that there’s a bit of a time jump in the middle of this chapter.

It was a vastly different thing, watching the world from the window of his cabin pass after spending two years immersing himself in every sight, smell, and sound. But that was where Ahkmenrah felt safe: in the cabin, next to the window. All the sights that had enthralled him when they made their way north now had no luster; it was just sand and river and sky. He wanted to be home.

The night a man sought to take his life; Ahkmenrah lacked the want to move from the corner he rooted himself in. He’d stayed awake until dawn and well after, too afraid to close his eyes for fear of opening them to another attacker. Kamuzu and the pharaoh never strayed from his side, but respected his want for silence; perhaps one day he would find the strength to talk about what had happened, but not one soon. When sleep did come, the prince spent it tossing and turning, his dreams vague but ominous. They wove a narrative his conscious mind had difficulty piecing together; like sand through his fingers, his nightmares slipped into obscurity once he was awake. Ahkmenrah figured that was for the best.

Finally, the evening before he was to arrive back in the capital, Ahkmenrah was blessed with a slumber that was black and empty; providing him with ample rest to keep the demons at bay. He didn’t want to return home with an aura of fear emitting from him. He was a prince; he wanted to arrive as one.

The sun was high overhead when the pharaoh’s vessels docked in Waset’s market port, and Ahkmenrah mustered his courage to step onto the deck for the first time since leaving Men-nefer. After days in the shade, his body craved the golden light beaming upon everything in sight. The welcomed heat tingled over his starved skin and worked a languid smile onto his lips. Even his worries burned and vanished under the powerful heat. The fragrance of spices from merchant stalls on the shore mixed curiously with the briny water of the Nile, and Ahkmenrah filled his lungs with that strange coupling over and over until he fixated it in his memory.

The prince blinked until he found his focus, and he swore he could feel the black of his eyes narrow to needle points in the bright light. The palace was the first thing he saw, and it made him smile. His heart yearned to be home just as much as it had yearned to see the marvels of Egypt. The towering walls of his palace in the distance served as a reminder to those he left behind, the faces he missed and would revel in seeing again.

His father was close by, supervising the men preparing the chariots that would parade them back to the palace in an echo of their initial send-off. His father turned when he heard him approaching and gave him his usual closed-lip smile.

“I'm pleased to see you out, Ra’s light will do you good.”

Ahk couldn’t help but agree, only a few minutes out of the shadows of his cabin and he felt anew.

“I am arranging for a platoon of guards to escort you back to the palace in secret,” the pharaoh idly said, his focus still overseeing the men working on the chariots.

“No,” Ahk said firmly.

Meren’s brow hoisted into an arch.

“I need to ride in on a chariot too,” Ahkmenrah told him, tired of being afraid. “I don’t wish to dwell on what happened. The sooner I am back to a usual routine the better.”

Merenkahre’s smile was toothy and almost grander than the sun shining overhead. He pulled his son into his arms for a quick, but tight embrace, praising his Ahkmenrah’s bravery.

The prince and the pharaoh both donned the most stately of their attire; all the gold, and gems shimmering like the light reflecting off of the surface of the Nile--casting about hundreds of prisms. Ahk felt rejuvenated by his regal raiment; he wore it proudly, wanting whoever it had been that sought to destroy him to know they had failed. Once more, the common people gathered in crowds to greet them with cheers and awed expressions. Ahk cast a smile to them each feeling a revival of his spirit swelling to combat all the apprehension that plagued him the past few days.

His smile remained even after he found himself back within the palace walls, and the end of his journey was marked by the sound of the gates shutting behind him. There was a bittersweetness in the thunderous echo of those shutting gates; they meant his time as an adventurer was over and duty awaited. More importantly, they signaled he was safe in the company of people who cared about him.

Shepseheret was waiting on the steps of the palace, as though she had stood there for two years awaiting their return. She wore a warm smile on her lips that was more beautiful to behold then all the heavens, and the surrounding gardens combined. Merenkahre pulled her into a long embrace, lifting her into a passionate kiss as her feet kicked behind her. Ahkmenrah smiled at the two of them, their love more real than the earth under his feet at that moment. The king and queen lingered, heads tilted together for a prolonged moment, reveling in the presence of the other. His father whispered something, and Ahkmenrah watched his mother's blithe features slip into something darker. She hastily pulled him into a powerful embrace, laying several kisses to the top of his head.

“My darling Ahkmen!” Her words were muffled as she spoke against the crown of his head. “You are safe now.”

“I’m fine mother,” he assured her.

Merenkahre cleared his throat and the queen ceased her fussing, smoothing out her son’s curls with a smile.

“The prince and I must speak to the council,” the pharaoh announced.

Shepseheret rolled her eyes and sighed, fondly shaking her head.

“Always business with you two. Go on,” she urged inclining her head toward the palace. “I’ll be in the West Garden waiting to hear all about your adventures.”

Ahkmenrah beamed at his mother and promised to do so before turning to follow his father to the council chamber.

The pharaoh’s slew of advisors filed into the council room and took their seats wearing looks of surprise on their faces. An unspoken question lingered about the room: what had their king and his son back in the capital a day and a half early? Kahmunrah was the only one who had not yet arrived--his empty chair next to Badru practically screaming his absence into the mostly silent interior.

“Let me begin by clearing up any rumors that may have traveled faster than we could,” Merenkahre began. “We find ourselves home early due to an unfortunate incident in Men-nefer. My son was almost slain by an assassin.”

A collective gasp filled the chamber, and every councilor offered some form of condolence or proclamation they were glad the attempt on the prince’s life had failed. Ahkmenrah sat quietly and nodded his thanks, not wanting to focus on what had happened.

“It is my intention to send men north to sniff out potential threats and report back so that we may prevent future attacks,” the pharaoh stated.

More of the advisors nodded, some of them mentioning potential culprits that might seek to destroy the monarch. Merenkahre waved his hand however, also--it seemed--not wanting to put any more focus on what happened in Men-nefer.

“Now that, that is out of the way, would someone mind telling me where my eldest son is?” The pharaoh’s irritation was obvious in the flair of his nostrils and pursed lips as he eyed the only empty chair at the table.

“Kahmunrah is finishing up matters in the throne room, my pharaoh,” one of the men said.

Merenkahre nodded as some of the frustration in his features ebbed. The pharaoh scratched at his chin and tossed a glance around the table before he spoke again, “How did Kahmunrah fair governing the nation and the people?”

Ahkmenrah sat up a little straighter, his own interest piqued. He spent more than one night while he was away wondering how his brother would do with a taste of so much power. A part of the prince feared he would return to a ruin or a pile of ash--Kah did so love violence. Surely that would show through with his method of ruling. The advisors, however, surprised both the prince and the pharaoh. The consensus commended Kahmunrah, noting only a few times the advisors had to step in to keep him from acting too rashly on an occasion.

“What was the matter he acted out on?” Merenkahre asked, brows furrowing.

“Theft, concerning a family of servants, my pharaoh,” one of the men explained.

“What was stolen?”

“The Tablet of Ahkmenrah,” the man said.

The pharaoh glanced at his son, and Ahk’s face held the same look of shock and confusion. His father promised that few knew about the magical tablet, or where it was kept--Ahkmenrah didn’t even know it had existed. How would servants have known where to find such a thing?

“Where is the tablet now?” Meren asked.

“Back in its temple. It was recovered only a day or so ago,”

The pharaoh frowned; and even to Ahkmenrah that sounded suspicious, but he wasn’t sure why.

“And what became of the servants who supposedly stole it?” the pharaoh asked.

“Kahmunrah wished to execute them, publicly, but it couldn’t be proven that they were culpable, so they were exiled from the palace grounds.”

Merenkahre thought a moment, digesting all that had been brought to light until finally, he nodded.

“Very well, what matters is, that it is back where it belongs.”

The sound of the chamber door opening and the cadence of footfalls that followed caused everyone to shift their attention to the door as Kahmunrah swaggered in. He was dressed in the most regal of his garments--outshining the king himself.

“Good of you to join us, Kahmunrah,” Merenkahre said in a tone that was somewhere between being genuine and annoyed all at once--taking note of how his eldest son presented himself.

Kah situated himself in his usual seat between Badru and Ahkmenrah, his hubris radiating and blatantly offensive.

“How does my little brother fair after such terrible slights in Men-nefer?” Kah gave his brother a look of concern that was almost mocking, and it made Ahk’s stomach slosh sickly.

“How did you hear about what happened in Men-nefer?” Merenkahre probed, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Kah blinked, suddenly looking as though he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have and threw the pharaoh a crooked smile and a shrug.

“Rumors spread quicker than wildfire, father. I heard about it a day ago--I was assured that my dear brother was safe, so I went about the business that you tasked me with.”

Merenkahre held his son’s gaze for a long time before letting the scrutiny fade and moved on. The rest of the council meeting went about as normal, and Ahkmenrah endured it all as he was expected to, putting in his two cents where he felt was necessary. He was tired and longed for the few hours to himself he knew would follow; Ahk wanted to hug his mother again and revel in her warmth. He wanted to see his little sister. Mostly, he wanted to find Nouke and tell her all the stories he promised to bring back with him.

***

Ahkmenrah’s feet found a leisure pace as he wandered the familiar hall of his home with Kamuzu at most a few steps behind. The corridors were nearly vacant as the day began to draw to a close; only a few stragglers still tended to their chores, and he hoped that Nouke was done with hers. A fresh warmth bubbled inside of him as his feet carried across the stone floor, it was a thrill he knew came with the notion of seeing his friend again. His grin was hard to quell and his heart beat with an unfamiliar fervor just thinking about his friend from the garden; alien or not, Ahk relished in the new sensation.

As promised, he found his mother in the West Garden, seated on the edge of the central fountain with Setshepsut beside her. His sister was playing idly with the lily pads floating on the water's surface, and it wasn’t until their mother nudged her with her elbow that the princess turned to see her brother approaching.

“Ahkmen!” Her face burst into a smile and she ran to greet him; the lily pads suddenly forgot.

She crashed into him with such force Ahk almost tumbled backward. Set had definitely grown while he was away. The top of her head was just under his chin, but she still held the same childlike wonder that she’d possessed when he left her.

“I missed you!” she said, squeezing him tight.

She’d definitely gotten stronger too, he mused matching the intensity of her embrace.

“I missed you more.” He kissed the top of her head, causing her to grin.

Shepseheret was the next one to fold her arms around him tenderly--a mother's embrace. Her dark eyes sparkled with the onslaught of tears as she cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs sweeping back and forth.

“My heart ached while you were away,” she confessed and kissed his forehead at his hairline. “Look how handsome you are; my little boy left and returned a man.”

Ahkmenrah pulled his lip between his teeth and smiled, drawing his mother and his sister into another embrace. It was an almost perfect moment--Nouke was the only one missing.

“I have so many stories to tell--and gifts,” Ahk said looking to each of them. “I even brought some home for Nouke.”

His mother and sister exchanged a brief look, and Ahk felt the atmosphere in the garden shift suddenly. A heavy sorrow hung in the air and cast a veil over his mother's features strong enough to twist Ahk’s own smile into a frown.

“Nouke and her family left the palace, Ahkmen,” his mother said softly. “I’m so sorry, my love. I know what she meant to you.”

Something dark and less forgiving than fear crept into him, his heart hammered but ached with every fervent beat. His throat was tight and dry.

“What?” His voice was shakey.

“She left,” his sister affirmed, sounding just as grief-stricken as he felt. “I’m sorry I couldn’t watch out for her like you asked me too.”

Ahkmenrah threw his sister a smile that was much too heavy to hold longer than a second or two.

“They left while I was away hosting the Festival of Isis--not long after you and your father left. I don’t know why they went. I would have asked had I been here.”

There was sadness in his mother’s eyes too, and he recalled that Maketaten, Nouke’s mother, had been her friend as well. Ahk wasn’t the only one who’d lost someone they cared about, and he wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse.

Ahk could feel tears brewing in his eyes, and he struggled to hold them. It wasn’t princely to cry. He didn’t want her to be gone. Why would she have left him?

“But I promised to tell her stories,” Ahk murmured more to the ground than to anyone.

His mother scooped him back into her arms to soothe him.

“Oh my sweet boy,” she said holding him together. “I know.”

***

Despite the heaviness that troubled his heart, grieving the absence of his friend, Ahkmenrah had little time to dwell on his sorrow. In less than a week of returning to Waset, he was named Pharaoh of Egypt--ruler of the land of his father.

The day of his coronation was a whirl of fittings and lavishness that made his head spin. He was decorated with extra fine linens, a jeweled collar that glittered at even the slightest of movements and befitting of a king. He was given gold, gem incrested bracelets, and belts. Down his back trailed a flowing cape that shown like sunlight and billowed like reeds caught in a breeze. The final touch was the heavy kohl around his eyes, dark and precise to define the stormy grey-blue of his irises.

It was the first time that he truly felt like a king and Ahkmenrah had to stifle the prideful smirk growing on his lips; the confidence however, he radiated gladly. He entered the throne room chest out and chin high; eyes trained to where his father waited at the throne. Ahk had practiced that moment the evening before and a dozen more times in his head, but nothing compared to the reality. In his chest, his heart was beating at an impossible rhythm; a mixture of nerves and excitement. His feet were the opposite. Each step seemed to glide across the polished stone of the grand hall. There was a crowd of faces around him--a rally of priests, advisors, and noblemen. He could feel their watchful eyes the moment he entered the room, but as he walked nearer his destiny, they swiftly became nothing more than the hieroglyphs in the background on the walls.

A proud smile was painted on Merenkahre’s face as he watched his son approach. He was dressed simply for a man who had not yet abdicated the rule of pharaoh: no capes or furs, just regal garments akin to anyone of noble birth. Ahkmenrah would always remember how strange that moment was seeing his father dressed so modestly.

The prince knelt before his father, and Merenkahre stood. Without a word, Meren removed his crown and placed it on his son's head. When Ahkmenrah stood, the room around him, including his father fell to their knees in a show of loyalty to their new king.

The evening passed just as swiftly as the morning, taking on a significantly less formal tone. As was a tradition for the new king, a parade followed the ceremony in the throne room which allowed the common people a gander at their new ruler. To a degree, riding in the chariot surrounded by a squadron of guards and Medjay felt less like a celebration and more like he was marching off to war. Their militaristic formation around all sides prompted the new pharaoh to wonder if such precaution was custom or a side effect of the mishap that had happened in Men-Nefer a week prior.

Nevertheless, Ahkmenrah flashed a pearly smile to all his subjects, waving to the children who gazed up at him in wonder--a part of him wishing he could take the time to thank them all for their loyalty. His eyes did scan the crowd for a familiar face; a face that he had kept in his mind during his years away, but in the sea of faces, none of them were familiar.

While the celebration in the courtyard was to honor his coronation with feasting, drink, and entertainment, Ahkmenrah still managed to spend most of the convivial fete conducting essential matters of the crown--the weight of his newly acquired headdress already cumbersome on his shoulders. For hours, he smiled and laughed and spoke with important men campaigning for a seat at his council table, some of whom he met on his pilgrimage, but the majority were strangers. Most hung on him with overcooked praise that Ahk was not fooled enough to buy into. He wanted good men to guide him--just men. Not the pretenders who swarmed him like a flock of circling vultures to a carcass--no. Ahk was not interested in how they could help the crown. He much preferred the opinions of the men who were not afraid to tell him they thought him too young or inexperienced to rule--the ones who spoke such things with respect instead of contempt. Ahkmenrah understood their caution. Their fear stemmed from the loyalty they had to the realm; men who wanted the best for Egypt, and not themselves. Those were the men who would guide him to make choices that ensured he kept the Maat teachings and fed the land instead of lead it to ruin.

***

The pharaoh Ahkmenrah sat on his throne with his heart beating rather nervously in his chest. The celebration of his coronation lasted well into the night, and admittedly, once all the official matters were seen to; he'd indulged a little too deeply for a man with a river of responsibilities awaiting him at dawn. While his heart hammered, his head pulsed with it--too much to drink. His throat was dry, and he was sure only the entire Nile could quench his thirst. Still, Ahk built himself a more or less gathered composure, dressed in his new golden robes and raiment, and perched himself on his throne to begin the rest of his life with what dignity he could scrounge up.

More than a dozen men stood before him, their expressions stoic. Some had been a part of his father’s council while others, he could recall their faces from the night before. Ahk knew they were waiting on him to begin; the scrutiny in their keenly focused eyes altogether unsettling. Despite almost a lifetime of practices, actually being king felt profoundly strange. The nervous sensation was akin to standing on a ledge much too high, readying to jump: stomach queasy at the thought of not sticking the landing. Even so, Ahkmenrah corrected his slouched posture, cleared his throat, and lept.

“First, I should thank you all for your loyalty, to myself and the empire,” he spoke, doing his best to mimic the bravado his father always used when he was making a declaration.

“I find it only fitting my Grand Consul be handed to a man who knows the struggles of the crown first hand: Merenkahre, my father--do you accept this charge?”

The pharaoh’s father fell into a kneel and bowed his head.

“It will be my honor, my king, to serve you and the empire.”

Ahkmenrah had to keep from grinning at how ridiculous it was to hear his father address him as king. He also found it difficult to quell the significant weight suddenly gone from his shoulders with the knowledge he would have his father’s guidance during his rule. It lent the confidence he needed to press on without fearing a tremor would shake his hand or crack his voice.

The pharaoh moved on, naming men to his council: some he let keep their positions, others, Ahk dismissed or granted new power. The most notable replacement being Kahmunrah as Consul of Montu--keeper of war and the position he had been preparing for most of his life.

The pharaoh’s older brother let a sardonic chuckle escape and echo in the hall, a contemptuous titter that caused all the newly appointed advisors to send him a glare.

“Do you not want the position, then?” Ahkmenrah asked, brow raised.

Kah’s wry features gradually fell into a look of disbelief and mild embarrassment. His dark eyes scanned over the faces looking to him with such scorn; he fell to his knees too, and the realization sank in.

“No, broth--my king.” Kah swallowed. “I would be honored to hold such a mantle.”

“Than it is yours.”

Once all the seats had been filled, Ahkmenrah felt he could breathe a little easier; being pharaoh was not going to be as tricky as he thought.

He dismissed the men who didn’t make the cut, thanking them for their time, and those who had been replaced, he thanked for their service to the former king and the empire. The rest he addressed collectively, as he had seen his father do.

“At this moment, are there any other matters that need immediate attention?”

Tak-Sharu, the pharaoh’s high priest took a step forward, cupping his hands and bowed before he spoke, “There is the matter of a queen, your majesty. A pharaoh needs a queen so that heirs can be produced and taught to continue Egypt's great empire.”

A queen? Akh’s brow furrowed and suddenly he was nervous again. Before he could speak, however, Merenkahre stepped forward as well.

“This matter has already been decided,” he told both the pharaoh and the priest.

Ahkmenrah’s brows creased further, “It has?”

Merenkahre nodded, looking more regal and kingly at that moment than the pharaoh himself. “In two years' time, my daughter, Setshepsut will be of childbearing age, whereupon; Ahkmenrah will wed her and she shall rule at his side as queen.”

Immediately, Ahk felt his heart sink and his stomach churn; the frown that threatened to twist onto his features was difficult to deter, but he managed to retain an indifferent composure. To keep bloodlines pure, it was common such marriages were arranged. Ahk knew his father’s first wife had been his sister. Even knowing it was custom did little to combat the unpleasant feeling that seeped down to his very bones. He loved Setshepsut. They harnessed a bond that no one could ever sever, but Ahkmenrah knew his feelings would never grow beyond that.

“Very well,” the pharaoh sighed, suddenly bereft and disinterested in the rest of whatever the council had to say. He had been king less than a day and already he felt golden shackles fastening tighter around his wrists.

***

The first two years of Ahkmenrah’s rule were prosperous, but the young king spent many meetings and royal affairs second-guessing every decision he made. Having to carry so much weight on his shoulders was a grueling task--one that he was determined to master. Every day was easier; he leaned on his father’s advice less and less as his confidence grew. His life fell into a routine of mornings at prayer, early afternoons in the throne room addressing civilian matters and evenings with his advisors in the council chambers. The days were long and arduous, and so different than the lazy hours spent with his friend in the West Garden or along the Nile. But being able to help the people he ruled was almost worth the sacrifice--almost.

The day he wed his sister, Ahkmenrah woke with knots in his stomach.

They were entirely too dissimilar from the way his gut writhed with excitement the morning of his coronation. The knots were born out of a sensation wholly different than excitement. True, he loved his sister. Setshepsut meant the world to him, but a husband was to love his wife so differently than a brother was to love his sister. Their marriage was a new obstacle Ahkmenrah was unsure he would ever be able to maneuver the way he was expected to.

The entire city celebrated when the pharaoh had his queen. People lined every alley and square to catch a glimpse of the royal couple as they rode through the streets of Waset on parade in a chariot pulled by white stallions. It was an echo of the journey he made after being named king; a chance for the commoners to see who it was that ruled them. Ahk did find joy in that venture around the city, forgetting for a moment why it was he was out of the palace walls.

He held his sister’s (wife’s) hand as they rode, taking in the sites--never letting the touching go further than a hug or kiss to the other’s cheek. Setshepsut marveled at the city as they snaked through and down different roads that would eventually loop back toward the palace. Her wonder made Ahk smile, and he took a moment to remind himself he was lucky it was her he was tied to forever and not a stranger. Set would always be special to him.

The wedding feast that followed was only slightly less grand than the one that celebrated the pharaoh’s coronation. The music was loud and the banter louder. The food and drink flowed freer and more abundant than the waters of the Nile. Everything right down to the placement of the oil lamps evoked an aesthetic that served to remind all in attendance how truly great their king, queen, and Egypt was.

Ahkmenrah held a smile on his lips as he sat next to his queen, doing his best to put on a good face for all who came to celebrate his union to Setshepsut. Every hour or so he would catch himself frowning as his thoughts wandered into obscurity before throwing an upward curl to his features once more. It was strange not being able to find conversation with Set--the two of them were often inseparable. And the longer he sat watching the jovial guests twirling about, the more Ahk missed the camaraderie he and Setshepsut used to have.  

“Are you ready to go?” Ahkmenrah asked suddenly, tired of watching people enjoy something he couldn’t.

Setshepsut blinked his direction, eyes blown wide with a hint of fear. She didn’t say a word, but she stood, and Ahk stood too. The pharaoh took a moment to thank his guests and encouraged them to carry on with their celebrations. When he turned back to his sister, she was tense and staring off into the distance.

“Set.” He offered his hand to her as he spoke gently.

She continued to stare. 

“Set?” Ahk murmured just as gently but louder to break through her sturdy resolve.

Her dark eyes turned to him, almost pleading, before falling to his hand. She stared at it for a long time, and Ahk waited patiently.

“It’ll be okay,” he promised.

Hesitantly, she reached for his hand but didn’t look at him. Neither of them said a word as they walked through the nearly empty halls to the pharaoh’s chambers. Even after the doors were shut and they were truly alone they remained quiet. Ahkmenrah, however, did let himself relax somewhat, no longer under the gaze of so many watchful eyes. And for a moment he forgot what was expected of him--what was expected of them.

He sighed a breath of relief and routinely began to remove the overabundance of ornamentation that made up his word robe: cape, collar, and crown until he wore only his golden shendyt and belt. Ahk sighed again, lips upturned slightly at the corners feeling free without the heavy garments and went to pour himself a drink. He indulged in a long swig, relishing in the way his mind began to settle until the clank of jewelry hitting the ground jolted him back to reality.

Setshepsut stood at his bedside, slowly removing her own barbels with the expression of a frightened, nervous child. The pharaoh watched idly for a moment, not thinking much of it as he drank until she began to slide out of her gown--the look on her face intense enough to bring tears to her eyes.

“No,” Ahkmenrah choked out, quickly putting his drink down and crossing the room to stop her.

The sudden movement startled her, causing her to jump, and she threw him a look of confusion.

“No,” Ahk said softer, taking both of her hands in his.

“But we--” 

“I know.” He held her gaze until some of that fear ebbed and led her out onto the balcony.

“I can do this…” Set told him, but the crack in her voice gave her away.

Ahkmenrah smiled softly and shook his head. He wasn’t going to let his little sister make sacrifices as he had.

“Is this what you want?” he asked. “Please answer truthfully.”

The importance of duty had been a lesson drilled into his head all his life, surely Set had been taught the same. He didn’t want those teachings answering for her. If she truly wanted to be his bride then, Ahk supposed, he was going to have to learn how to love her differently…

“Do you?” she held his gaze as she spoke, searching his expression for an answer.

“No,” Ahk told her without hesitation. “I love you, Set. But I’m not sure I can ever be a husband to you.”

Instantaneously, the apprehension that darkened Setshepsut’s face drifted away, and she smiled as she embraced him tightly.

“I feel the same!” she rejoiced, her words a little muffled with her face pressed against him. “When you wanted to leave the party, I thought that you wanted to…” her eyes drifted to the bed inside the pharaoh’s chamber.

Ahkmenrah chuckled somewhat and kissed the top of her head as she pulled away. “No, I was tired of everyone watching us.”

“What are we going to do?” Set asked.

“Well,” Ahkmenrah thought a moment as he pulled her to sit beside him with their backs against the stone railing of the balcony.

“You will go about your days as queen, and I will go about mine as king. No one has to know what we do in here. Even if all we do is sit and watch the stars for the rest of our lives or play Senet until the sun comes up--I will be happy.”

Setshepsut pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she smiled at her brother.

“I’ll be happy with that, too.”

The king and queen remained on the balcony under the stars, spending hours talking and laughing like they used to, and when Setshepsut finally left to return to her own chambers, the dark of the sky was mixing with the pastel hues of morning. Ahk lingered, watching the helix of colors overhead with a content smile on his face and warmth in his heart knowing without a doubt that he would never lose the bond he had with his little sister.  

Next Chapter-> Chapter Five: Bound to You

[keytomythoughts]

Eleutheromania | Chapter 06

Chapter Index

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Ｌｕｃａｓ

Settling back into my bunk, I cross my arms underneath my head, closing my eyes briefly for sleep to take me over. Today’s training was intensive, all of my muscles and limbs sore from over-exerting itself. The moon is bright tonight, though it’s well past midnight—almost three in the morning. Yet, I’m restless. My mind isn’t just tired. 

Because every time my eyelids shut, I picture her. 

It’s almost like a routine, every night. Even after long and tiring days, seeing her conjure right in front of my eyes fills my body with this profound energy, this light that carries me through my darkest days. Jaeun, my heart. My soul, my love. The woman who I’ve grown to love with this compelling passion. The feeling never fleets from my heart, because I know how much she’s going through already. And I know that as long as she’s a part of my life, I will always come back to her. As will she to me.

My lips twitch into a small smile. I picture her, standing in her angelic glory. A true goddess, no doubt. How long has it been since I’ve last seen her? Last been with her? 

I frown. Almost four years now. And yet, she has been patient all this time. Her eyes, those beautiful flecks of an emerald—like a glowing, gorgeous gem—shimmering with pure delight whenever she sees me through her screen. The darkened rays of the sun spooling down her shoulders like a waterfall of gold mixed with rich Earth. The way her locks would curl around her slender fingers when she was anxious. Her scent, so captivating and sweet, similar to lavender and peaches. The smell drunkening my senses with every closing proximity. Silky-smooth skin leaving traces of electricity wherever she touches me, yet her touch is always gentle and pure. Her laugh, a sound so rich and lively that it would put angels to shame for being nothing compared to her.

Everything. God, just everything about her.  

Seeing her like this gives me strength and courage, the hope that one day I’ll leave this wretched place and take her far away where we can live the way we want to. No social system. No Sabres. No monarch. And no restrictions.

Just me and Jaeun, gazing out at the many sunsets until the warm glow has sunken to allow the night sky to take its place. For the long walks we’d take through parks and beaches, hands intertwined. Running through fields and lying down next to each other, one of us eventually cuddled up in the other's embrace. Desiring nothing more than to simply be with one another.

I picture this reality almost religiously, praying that soon I would be able to make it a reality for us both. To feel pleasure and peace, love and despair, longing and remorse, nostalgia and reminisce. As long as it’s us two against the world, I wouldn’t give a damn what came in our way to stop us.

I would fight it all, for her. So that she would stay by my side.

The slumber nearly pulls me in until I feel my pocket vibrating. My eyes open right away, knowing the only person who would be calling me at this time.

When I hold my phone to my face, I see that it’s indeed a call. 

From Jaeun.

I glance around quickly to make sure no one else is in here before answering it. My heart catches in my throat, fearing something must’ve happened to her for her to be still up and calling this late. I wait anxiously as our videos load on either side of the screens. Fixing my position, I wait as her video focuses on her face. I smile. She’s curled up on my side of the bed again, her body clad in one of my favorite hoodies. Looking at her from across the screen, I can’t help the grin that comes to my face, seeing her angelic face after a while. 

But, today, her radiance is a little dim. It isn’t completely snuffed out, just dull. The expression on her face…I don’t know. It didn’t rub me the right way.

“Jaeun, baby, is everything okay? It’s not like you to be up this late.”

Her eyes shift around nervously, and I know that something’s visibly wrong. I wish I could, at this moment, reach out and hold her in my arms. To comfort her in any way that I can.

I hear her breathe heavily. 

“I’m fine, babe. It’s just…I wanted to see you.”

There’s no way I can bypass the way her voice wavers. Never has she been like this, as if she’s scared, hesitant. 

Jaeun…

“Babe, what’s the matter?” I cut right to the chase, knowing full well the scope of my girlfriend and her emotions all too well. Whether it be face-to-face or through a medium, I can always decipher her, read her expressions. But this time, it feels very unsettling.

I shift so I can get a better view of her. She still doesn’t respond, but I can tell she’s taking a little too long to answer, as if she can’t find the right words to say. 

I frown. What’s wrong, my love?

“L-Lucas..” 

The way my name leaves her mouth confirms my suspicion that something definitely has happened, and she’s troubled by whatever it is. How desperately I want to be there next to her right now, she has no idea. I see her lips tremble, the way she casually tries to bring up her sleeve to obscure her face from my vision. My heart races, the desire to protect her growing even stronger.

“Jaeun, you’re scaring me. Talk to me, baby. Please. I’m right here,” I coax her gently, begging her to reveal why she’s in such discomfort. 

That’s when I see her tears. One by one, little drops of water spilling from her beautiful pearl-green eyes. Those pretty, shining orbs are now clouded with sorrow. My heart wrenches painfully in my chest as my eyes widen, nervously darting around her face. 

“Are you—Jaeun are you crying??”

She doesn’t respond, but the tears continue to streak down her soft cheeks, her shoulders shaking in the process. 

“Oh god, baby, why are you crying? Did something happen? Are you hurt?” My fingers grasp the device tightly in my hand, the other going to pull the strands of my hair. The uncertainty is making my heart race at an abnormal speed, the adrenaline rushing throughout my body as my muscles tighten. 

She shakes her head in denial, but the tears don’t stop. Her loud sobs echo through the call, and I find my own heart sinking. Painfully wrenching in my chest as I watch her. Uselessly watching, hating myself for not being able to do anything for her right now. Despising the fact that I can’t comfort her when she’s at her most and needs me the most. My Jaeun, my beautiful girlfriend, the complete love of my life. 

What caused you so much pain to make you cry this much? 

“Breathe, love. Please, just try to calm down.”

Lucas, you idiot. Is that what you say? You’re hopeless.

I release a deep sigh, fingers still tugging at my roots to the point that it hurts my scalp. I didn’t care, though. I just need to know why Jaeun is the way she is right now. “Shit, why am I not there with you when I can be at your side and wipe your tears away?”

Her sobs quiet, but the tears still shine on her cheeks, the new wave replacing the old trail. She parts her lips, and I try to inch closer to the phone. As if by doing this will make me reach her physically.

“L-Lucas…” She breathes through her tears, her voice slightly hoarse from the result of her crying so hard.

I hold my breath, waiting for her to continue. She sniffles.

“Y-You know that I love you, right?”

My heart plummets into my stomach. Seeing her so broken, so hurt…and the only woman I will ever love no matter how many lifetimes I live is asking me if she knows that my heart only beats for her, that everything I do is so that I can be with her forever.

“Of course, baby. And I love you even more,” I pause, the air collecting in my lungs, struggling to say all that I can to her to make her never doubt that notion. The notion that I can never live without her. That I long for her. That I wish to kiss her pain away, to enclose her in my arms, feeling her skin radiate the heat that I’ve grown to crave as each day passes without her near me. To make her feel love, the way she deserves it. Every inch of my being for her, and only her.  

I swallow, my own tears threatening to make their appearance. “God, I miss you so much. Every day, I just want to come home. To be with you. Not a minute goes by where I’m not thinking of you, Jaeun.”

Jaeun remains silent again, but her expression softens, the initial discomfort gone, but there’s something else hidden in her eyes. The hesitation. Her lips part, then close. When they open again, she whispers something almost inaudible.

“I-I…I'm pregnant.”

I freeze. My eyes widen as I feel all the muscles in my body go stiff.

Did I hear her right?

I gulp. “W-What did you say, love?” My voice sounds shaky, but it’s purely an accident. The sudden delivery of this news leaves me speechless. Pure shock. My mind runs through a series of thoughts, not one making complete, concrete sense. 

Her voice sounds a little stronger now, resolve replacing the remorse. 

“I’m pregnant, Lucas.”

Fearing someone may have overheard her, even though I made sure that I was completely alone, I immediately slide off my bunk and go outside. The outside air is definitely cooler than in the barracks, but at least out here, there’s a less chance of someone hearing this conversation. Positioning myself near a lamp post, I let the dim light bathe me in its glow, luminating the device in my hand.

I sigh, my hand resting on top of my head. Then it falls to the side of my face.

“Are you serious?”

She nods shyly. “I took the test earlier today. It came out positive.”

I purse my lips. My eyes travel around my surroundings. Anywhere away from the camera. The barrage of emotions I’m feeling right now is very hard to distinguish, so I stay silent, letting my thoughts slowly process. 

Oh my god. Oh my god.

She’s pregnant. 

Jaeun’s pregnant. 

I get so caught up in my thoughts, that one thought shining through the rest that I barely hear her voice calling out for me. 

“Lucas? Baby, say something,” she pleads. I make out the slight shakiness in her voice, realizing if I didn’t respond, she would feel doubt and guilt. This time, her tears will be because I didn’t brush away the misconceptions when that’s what I needed to do. That’s the last thing I would ever want to make her feel. Her tears, for as long as I live, will never be because of me. Not if I can do anything about it. And right now, I know what I have to do.

My chest heaves, the tears springing free and travelling down my face. I make no attempt to wipe them away. 

I breathe out an airy laugh, a small smile forming on my face.

“I’m going to be a father..”

I turn back to her as more tears pool in my eyes, each dripping slowly. She gasps, but the tears she sheds are not out of pain or sadness. No, they’re from happiness. Her laughter fills my ears, and I can’t help laughing along with her, the sound resonating beautifully. Our laughs and tears mixing as one, our hearts unravelling all that had been entrapped.

“Jaeun, you’re carrying my child,” I manage to say. “Our child!” My chest inflates, but my smile still remains, as does hers. “You have no idea how desperately I want to go running to you, right now. Baby, it’s taking every ounce in my being to control myself.”

She laughs, dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve.

I grin, the love shining from just my expression alone. All of it directed to her, the only person in my life who I will ever look at the way I do.

“So,” she sniffles once more, “you’re not mad?”

The answer comes out before I have time to think about it, but it comes directly from my heart. “Baby, no, god no. Why would you ever think that? I would never.” 

I run my thumb across the screen, wishing I could touch her. The ache I feel from being away from her for too long filling my senses once again. 

My voice lowers just with that overwhelming sensation. “I love you with all my heart. And nothing will ever change that, Jaeun. Nothing.”

Either I say it once or a million times over until I sound like a broken record, my heart will always accept this as the one solid truth in my life. No matter what, this love I have for Jaeun is sound. 

The sound of her laughter rings in my ears again. “I love you so much, babe. I miss you. God, I really do.” 

Judging by the way her voice lowered at the end, I had a strong feeling she would burst into tears again. And while she always appears beautiful to me no matter how she looked, I didn’t like to see her cry. Not with me around. 

She tilts her head upwards, and I’m unable to see her face anymore. If I were there, I would gently, slowly, use my fingers to hook her by her chin and bring her face to my level, to make sure she’s looking straight into my eyes. To close the gap between us in a sweet, passionate kiss. Lips syncing to match the rhythmic beats of our elated hearts, our hands pulling each other closer to convey the love mere words can’t do justice for.

“Jaeun, babe, look at me.”

A couple seconds pass before she brings her head back down. I never get tired of looking at her, never. It always amazes me how lucky I am to have someone like her walk into my life and fill each and every corner with her light. Her smile, the cute way her nose crinkles when she laughs. Her beauty, dazzling. Those emeralds that remind me why I continue to fight so hard. She’s mine, and I’m hers. Our hearts have sealed this from when we were both teens to our now adult lives.

My heart skips a beat, the excitement bubbling up all over again.

“I promise,” I start, my voice thick, “I’ll come back home soon. I swear, I’ll do whatever I can.” I gaze into her eyes once more, the flames of desire burning from the tips of my fingers to the organ beating wildly in my chest. The resolve growing hard in my mind that it’s preventing me from thinking straight. These feelings, the ones I’ve kept in check for so long come pouring out. And I don’t stop them. I want her to see just how crazy she makes me feel.

I lick my lips, realizing they were dry. “God, I…I just want to kiss you so badly right now, jagi. I want to feel you again.”

Despite the poor lighting, I take note of her cheeks growing pink. Not going to lie, it’s cute to see her embarrassed. Blushing, because of me. 

God, how badly I want to feel her skin against my own. It’s driving me wild.

“I guess that will give you more of a reason to come, right? And besides,” she shifts, her hand now pressed to her stomach, “it’s not just me you’ll be coming home to.”

I can’t help but smile, knowing that our baby is growing in her as we speak. It’s strange, but there’s this feeling of joy, of pride, that I’m fathering this child. That I was able to put a part of me in Jaeun, my love blossoming a new creation within her.

My smile changes to a smirk as my mind divulges into my more darker and sinful desires. Despite the chill outside, I find my body growing hotter, overcome with this burning lust.

“You better be ready. I won’t go easy, love.”

Teasing, tempting. It’s one of the ways I enjoy drawing her in, luring her like a prey to its predator. And her eyes, wide with this somewhat misty look, convey the same feeling as mine.

Insatiable thirst.

“Neither will I, babe.”

God, how can she be so freaking sexy and goddamn cute at the same time?

Jaeun giggles, not realizing I half-muttered what I was thinking. A deep chuckle escapes my throat, fighting back the urge to not think any more sinful thoughts. 

Looking at the glint in Jaeun’s misty-green eyes, I realize the same effect she has on me, I have the same on her. Imagining her body writhing under me, the waves of pleasure I would deliver to her. The endless time we spend in each other’s grasp. I miss it. I want it. All of it, even if it is for just a moment. I long to be with her again more than anything. A moment of showing her how much I love her, care for her, miss her, desire her…the feelings only she’s capable of making me feel. 

All, only for her. 

I snicker, trying to divert my intense passion onto her restless state. “I’ve fired you up, haven’t I?”

Her cheeks burn brighter, like the color of strawberries. “Shut up, Lucas!”

I laugh, her reaction so pure and genuine.

Oh baby, you have no idea what I’m feeling right now, even if you can’t see it. It’s all because of you, making me feel so vulnerable.

These moments, times like these, they’re ones I wish to cherish with her face-to-face. Calling like this doesn’t do our love justice. Eventually, our love will grow, transgressing from the two of us to our unborn child.

We’ll be a family. 

I drift off thinking about our future. Even though I know how risky this is, our lives now both at a higher stake if someone were to have us figured out, I picture it all. The three of us together, loving and happy. Failing to realize, again, that I’m blurting my questions out loud.

“Do you think it’s a boy? Or a girl?” My heart skips a beat, not giving a chance for Jaeun to answer before my momentum picks up its giddiness. “What if they’re twins??”

She giggles as she shakes her head. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see, babe.”

I pout, a grunt of disapproval escaping from deep in my throat.

“No fairrr,” I purposely drag out the last word, whining to get my point across.

All she does is smile, the whites of her teeth flashing their way through my chest and into my heart that beat erratically. Jaeun then rubs her eyes, and I can tell she’s exhausted. And for the following months after, she’ll have to be careful not to exert herself too much. For her and the baby.

“Jagi, get some rest, okay? I’ll talk to you as soon as I can, I promise,” I say, softly.

She shakes her head. “But I’m not tired.”

My heart softens, seeing her struggle to stay awake because we can’t guarantee when a conversation like this can happen often, if ever again for some time.

“You can’t lie to me, baby,” my voice still soft and whisper-like.

Jaeun shakes her head again. “I can’t sleep, not without you.”

Oh, Jaeun. 

A ghost of a smile forms on my lips, my chest heaving out of this pure ecstasy of love, wishing to reach out and brush the dark blonde strands away from her face. Letting my fingers trace over her delicate features one by one. Planting soft kisses. 

I’m sorry, I know how hard this must be for you. Thank you for being patient with me. I’m forever in your debt, my love.

I lower my voice, this time to purposely lure her into the sleep she desperately needs. “Just think I’m right there, laying down next to you. My arms wrapped tightly around you. My fingers stroking your hair, the soft kisses I would leave on your skin.”

Each scenario, I imagine myself with her there as well. I feel a dull pang in my chest, desiring so much but accomplishing none.

Soon, I think wearily. I’ll be with you soon, Jaeun.

Her eyes slowly flutter closed, surprised how she’s able to continue holding the phone in her hand. I watch as her breathing becomes rhythmic, her body finally giving in to slumber. Watching her is pure bliss. It reminds me of the countless mornings we woke up together, sometimes catching her still sleeping. She always looked peaceful, so beautiful. 

I hear her sigh, words leaving her lips in a hushed whisper. But I catch every single one. 

“I love you, Lucas..”

I chuckle, heart swelling no matter how many times she has said the same phrase. “Not as much as I love you, Jaeun. Good night, my love. I’ll visit you in your dreams, just wait for me soon.”  

With that, I take one good look at her before I end the call and slip the device back into my pocket. I slowly make my way towards the barracks, seeing as there’s not much time left before sunrise. Hard to believe we were talking for over an hour. 

I can’t believe I’m becoming a father.

I look down to the gravel beneath me, aimlessly kicking at the loose stones. Yet, I smile. A small one, but it’s there. The air isn’t as chilly now, and I find the outside atmosphere slightly comforting, knowing now that both Jaeun and the soon-to-be born child will be waiting for me. 

I stop in my tracks just before the door to my barracks. I glance upwards, the few stars still present twinkling in the early morning haze. 

Jaeun…just hold on. Just a little longer. I’ll be home soon.

I promise.

Chapter 05 | Chapter 06 | Chapter 07 

[vivianrvergiou]

Poetry For The Poisoned Arcana

Prologue

Hello everyone and welcome to one of my stories! ^^ These particular one-shots were inspired by the amazing headcannons by @softarcana  Antagonist Main 3, where I added my own dark touch to them. Here on Tumblr you will find only the Prologue, the rest you will find in my Archive of Our Own page (https://archiveofourown.org/works/25225261/chapters/61143841 ) since -and I do want to warn you- they are dark, explicit and very violent. Read the tags very carefully and do not read if you are a minor !please! Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

Prologue warnings: Slaves, slave trade, assassination plot

‘A wolf is a wolf.

Even in a cage;

Even dressed in silk’

‘True evil is above all things seductive;

when the devil knocks at your door

  he doesn't have cloven hooves - he's beautiful..’

John Clare

Everything smelled of sickness and death.

    High above the streets, the opalesque buildings once radiated with beauty, surrounded by the bluest sky and the whitest of clouds, enclosed by the vibrant houses and the merry voices of people filling the refreshing sea air mingling with the mouth-watering aromas of bread being made or spices freshly ground into pulp. The beloved Count Lucio truly deserved all the love he was getting from his people, a monarch that cared for his city and did everything in his power for his people to be united and his lands prosperous. Everything thrived with riches and happiness, all people rejoicing and drinking to his health and the prosperity of the city to continue for eons and eons to come, blessed by the gods and all the heavenly powers. Vesuvia was the pride and joy of all the lands, envied but loved by many, a gem among others that could inspire hope to the darkest of hearts.

  That was back then.

Back when life was a joy to live.

   Now, almost nine years later, the Count was long dead, murdered in his own bed, and the tall buildings were surrounded by crimson painted clouds that completely eradicated the rich sunlight and made day seem as dark as night; raising your head to look at the Grand Palace, you couldn’t help but feel death lingering in the air of the almost demolished and bereft from any life streets. The Plague had wiped the population out almost completely, infecting the old and the young and reaping lives here and there with no remorse to any, so much that the corpses littered the streets and the canals, while the few and lone survivors that were lucky -or unlucky- to survive it were left to beg for scraps of food or fight for their lives in the Colosseum, mere ghosts of their former selves. A city once clad in unfathomable riches and happiness, had now plunged in darkness and death leaving behind nothing but shadows desperately clinging on the streets.

 You couldn’t help it; as you watched the Palace with keen eyes, you felt the wave of hate long suppressed emerge from the depths of your chest, wild and poisonous and determined to set things right once and for all. There was only one thing to do and one alone; for nine years you have been training and scheming and preparing for this moment alone. And this was your chance; all or nothing.

   Tightening your grip around your cloak, your chains rattle and groan as the slave in front of you is slapped across the face by the less empathetic slavers. The man stumbles weakly and almost falls on the ground yet catches himself at the last minute. He is sickly and weak, only a ghost of his former self as all of you are; once there was much food to go around, luxuries people could only dream about but now hunger gripped everyone and the only thing left was to be sold in one of the rich houses.

   A part that the slavers covered; when the townsfolk were not enough anymore, they marched onto the countryside and snatched whoever was in sight. Men and women and children alike all were shackled and taken to the Colosseum to either survive and be sold or be killed off like animals to the slaughter.

 Thus, this is where you are currently heading and stooping your head lower, you avert your eyes to the ground in a desperate attempt to avoid triggering the slavers wrath as they whip you forward in a tight but neat row. Some of the slaves can barely stand on their own feet, others are already dying, and others are expected to win a nice sum from the Royals. Whoever can’t walk or is too sick, is promptly killed off and tossed to the side, empty carcasses to litter the floors. Hunger is gripping you all and the sweet taste of water is something you’ve already forgotten. Instead, your feet and hands are blistered by the heavy chains and your backs are so savagely whipped, some still have pieces of flesh hanging off; you were one of the lucky ones and despite the deep wounds, there was no infections or hanging flesh. It was but a small price to pay if it meant fulfilling your ultimate goal.

 ‘Get moving! They’re already expecting us!’ one of the slave owners said and whipped the whip loudly in the air, making a few children in the line cry out in fear.

 ‘MOVE IT!’

  Truly, the more you walked down the street the more Royal Guards you started to see, dressed in their shiny coal black armours, swords as sharp as pain itself sheathed next to their waists; eyes were following you by now and the feeling was like shadows caressing your skin in the dark of the night. You couldn’t see their faces, but the feeling was unmistakable. A few beggars were standing behind them, too curious to remain hidden, too afraid to wander any further; their eyes shone in the darkness and whispers were carried along by the wind, reaching your ears.

 What a shame.

 How sad for a city that grand to fall so low.

  Alas, rounding a corner, you came forth to the one building that its mere sight was enough to strike fear even to the most fearless hearts: the Colosseum.

 Standing tall and towering over most other buildings, it was as haunting as it was grand right before you. White stone reached to almost cover the sky and the more you came close to it, the more you could actually taste the blood hanging in the air; some spoke that it was home to monsters that lurked in the dungeons, others said the ghosts of the people slaughtered inside still roamed the place at nights. Whatever the lore was, you cannot help the shiver travelling down your spine as you all pass under its gates, feet coming in contact with soft sand and ears picking up on the faraway sounds of battle and the crowd cheering. Everything was dark and the only light you could see came from the other side of the long corridor you were in.

 With hushed yells, the slavers stopped you all, gathering you in a close corner, and the head of them ventured inside the nearby door as they warned you not to make a peep. Cloaked by the shadows, your eyes are quick to adjust to the darkness and you let them roam all around you; lines of weapons littered the walls, tossed here and there or carefully settled on the cold stone, ready to be picked up at any given time. It would be so easy for a daring soul to just grab one and make a run for it, alas, everybody knew better than to risk having all the gladiators after them.

‘Just a bit more…. Just a bit longer….’

 Whispering to yourself the only words of encouragement you could muster, it’s a desperate plea for your heart to lie still. It is strange really; you’ve been dreaming about this your whole life, from the moment everything went to complete and utter shit and actually trained for it, prepared for every possible scenario, yet now that you are here you seem utterly unable to calm down. Sweaty hands, restless feet, heart ready to jump out of your chest and a brain that is constantly rehearsing all the info you have, all the possible outcomes you can get.

 Still, something feels like it’s not ready yet. That you need more time.

Alas, the time was now.

Now, as the leader of the slavers comes back and orders them to take you into the arena. Now, that scared whispers erupt all around you, followed by curses, harsh shoves and more savage whipping. Now, that your shoulders roll out and your head stands high with pride as you follow the slave line and enter the huge arena momentarily blinded by the artificial light.

 Breath is caught in your lungs and time seems to slow down; yet you are still moving, and it feels like there’s someone else moving your body like a true puppet to their schemes. Taking you further towards the centre of the blood covered arena, where bodies have fallen and the watchful crowd is looking expectantly, like predators watching their potential prey. And here you are, served for them on a plate of iron clad chains, ready to get gobbled up. Pulled into a neat line, you turn to face the huge podium towering above all other seats and a few slaves cry out and fall on their knees.

 The slavers urge you all to fall down in respect, to kneel and give yourselves up willingly, but you are not occupied with them anymore.

 Now, your panic has shimmered down, and your lips aren’t quivering anymore, you can literally stand on your own two feet without worrying they might give out as your eyes can only focus on the four shadowy figures standing inside the podium, clad in shadows and true abyssal darkness. Yet you know they are all watching.

 Asra Alnazar, the Great Magician, Destroyer and King of the Arcana Realms, rumoured to snatch the souls away from anyone he lies his eyes upon.

 Julian Devorak, the Doctor of Death, the murderer and wanted criminal; the doctor behind it all, whose hand was no stranger to death.

  Nadia Satrinava, the Tyrant Countess, the one who unleashed hell upon earth itself and brought nations to their knees; none can survive her they say, and her presence in battle is enough to instil fear to the Gods themselves.

  Muriel, the Scourge of the South, prime gladiator and enforcer of the Law brought by the Countess. His hand had ended thousands of lives, guilty and innocent alike.

 Alas, you only cared for one of them.

 Unbeknownst to them, you arrived in Vesuvia to kill them.

[inky-duchess]

Hi! Can you tell us a bit about the kingdoms of your story? It's just that i have started reading your posts about the OCs and the kingdoms and I can't wait to know more about them 💕

Kingdom #1: The four islands are the most beautiful in the sea with white sand beaches, tall palm trees, blue-green seas and endless blue skies. Its people are considered the most strikingly beautiful and the land is abundant with shellfish and fruits and sugar cane. The people do not cut down trees to build their houses, but weave grasses and bamboo to create their huts which stand on the strands of each isle. Turquoise and turtle shell are top trading items in the region as well as the famous distilled liqueurs there. The islands have been used as a safe cache for many pirates and cheap traders. Its complacent people have been conquered more than once and have taken it on the cheek each time. They simply bide their time and wait for their enemies to weaken and leave or wait for them to sue for a peace. The islands have been invaded so often that different customs have interwoven with their own.

Kingdom #2: Chivalry and honour are the main attractions of the land. No man can doubt the honour of the kingdom's famous knights or her lords. The kingdom is a sea faring one as well as an agricultural one, the preferred port of many of the merchants from around the world. Its famously large and gentle bay is guarded by the world's longest bridge which spans many miles. The kingdom is nearly always bathed in summer heat and on the seasonal rains, the weather is still warm enough to walk about without one's cloak. The cities of the kingdom are well fortified, being a kingdom born in war and conquest even if the wars are contained in the tourney lists.

Kingdom #3: The kingdom was the greatest power of the time. No other land could build so high or weave such fine cloth or have such a large and skilled army. The kingdom is often cited as the world's first attempt of empire. Glory and power was this kingdom's main trade. Its nobles were the finest and most learned. Its trade the richest. Its palaces the largest. But as many empires do, time crumbled it to a shadow of what it was. As times changed, the land remained trapped in its own past glories, rarely moving on from the memories of the past.

Kingdom #4: Never was there a land as fruitful and fertile as here. The orchards yielded thousands of kinds of fruits, the ground gave bushels of every grain imaginable. The seas gave the people an abundance of fish and the hills and forests offered the finest game. No land was more blessed by the gods but they people do not believe in the gods, only a single goddess of the green, of summer and kindness. The kingdom has always been nicknamed as the "Bread Basket of the World" for so much food can be grown and harvested that it is sold to lands suffering famine or bad times. The kingdom was populous and along with that reason and its fine produce, could have fielded an army that might have dwarfed any forces raised by enemies. But war and violence is not the way of these people.

Kingdom #5: "The land of the dragons is one of fire. The scape is pitted with volcanoes and geysers, that spew molten fire and ash, creating the shiny black stone which is the main export of the land. As rich as the kingdom is, no invader would dare raid it, for fire and dragons in flight are the greatest defense for the land."

Kingdom # 6: "Though rainy and muddy, the land is among the most fertile and beautiful. Lush and green, the land has yielded the best horses. The people are among the best riders in the world. The kingdom is the largest and most populated. It is jested that they would have conquered the world had they not been so interested in horses."

Kingdom #7: "Old and Ancient is the island of warriors. Surrounded by the sea on all sides, the island is jagged and dry and it is said that its people are too. A theocracy, the island is ruled by two kings: the hereditary monarch and the elected voice of their strange god. War flows in the veins of every man and woman, for service to the land and crown in war is the highest honour there could be."

Kingdom #8: This kingdom is a land of colour. Its dyes are famous throughout the world and though its mines yield no diamonds they were ripe with rubies, topaz, emeralds and garnets. The beloved "child" or two mighty empires, the kingdom has since out grown its colonizers and masters and become a great trading power of its own. As the second smallest of the kingdoms, it often suffers hardships for its gems and its weaknesses. Though rich in gems and jewels, the land's trade is minor. Instead of paying off their crippling debts with coin, they offer jewels which many debtors take any way and then look for more repayments

Kingdom #9: The kingdom was the richest of all. From the reaches of all the oceans and tops of the highest mountains, it is storied. It is well known for its fine art, massive wealth, rich wine and ... its treacherous nobility, who are said to have more poison than blood in their veins. No kingdom can match it in trade, for it is the capital of merchants who spill glorious tribute on the canals and docks of the cities. Artists crowd the canals, looking for patrons or drawing for coppers. Musicians are on every corner. The men of the kingdom are prized if they can fight well, ride better and are courtly toward all. Their education is the finest in the world. The women of the realm are less expected upon and the custom of seclusion is heavily enforced. The canals are the very veins of the realm, used just as much as roads. In the day, the cities are baking in the sun, bustling with trade and music but at night, when the moon rules, the sounds of water and lute song can be heard.

Kingdom #10: The kingdom is the coldest region on the continent. Ringed by mountains, it is also the safest. The snow and ice is oft referred to as the knife that cut many natives but also shields them from invasion. The mountains that have protected them have also sustained them, offering up torrents of jewels and precious gems. Its noble inhabitants are the height in terms of glamour and wealth. The palaces of the royal family and nobility are well storied and known. Its people are considered one of the best read and cool. The humour of the kingdom is said to have frozen with its land and rivers. The kingdom is famous for its extravagance where even the poorest wretch can afford to keep themselves from the poverty suffered by others in the same rank in neighbouring lands.

Kingdom #11: The land is treacherous as her people. Its seas are the roughest in the world, its long coastline ragged and full of coves where many a ship can be smashed onto rocks. Pirates are also famous in these waters, just as responsible for the high mortality rate of the ships that fall into the dangerous squalls that befall here. Its forests and roads are laced with outlaws as well, merciless thieves who prey on travellers. The people are rumoured to be thieves and traitors, every man a pirate or outlaw or cheat and every woman a wanton or thief. In truth, these are stories embellished by frightened foreigners. The ways of raiding are the main sport of the people and a summertime event. The women of the land are just as hard as the men, seen as warriors and respected advisers. As immoral as these natives seem, they are deeply religious. Other histories state that a warrior once broke a ten year peace because another man disrespected the sea goddess by befouling one of the sacred streams.

Kingdom #12: "The sun and sands are the two weapons this land wields well. The land is almost entirely desert save for a crescent of fertile land which yields the only crops. The history of the land is well known, written upon the great sandstone palaces and bazaars with blood. Their armies are fierce and their pride legendary."

Kingdom #13: .... well, you'll have to read it to know.

[rohad93]

A Knight Affair: Chapter 3 - Wake up Call

Blue rose before the sun as she usually did when Yellow was on leave. She had learned to not let a single moment go to waste if she could help it. They never knew when the knight would be sent off again to conquer lands in the queen's name. As if their time wasn’t limited enough by the constant need for secrecy. 

The need for a quiet place where they could be alone. Where they could just be together, for as long as they desired. Blue’s greatest fantasy.

But a fantasy was all it was, and she knew it. 

A few maids were rushing about the halls, to complete their daily chores, she nodded to them as they passed. Once, years ago they would have stopped to bow or curtsy at her feet, asking if there was anything they could do for her.  She’d decided long ago that she didn’t have patience for all the groveling her mother allowed. 

‘Oh my, glorious, resplendent, wise, elegant, merciful queen...

They could go on and on and Blue simply didn’t have the time for all of that. 

Speaking of…

“Mother!” Blue dipped into a curtsy when she rounded the corner to find her mother climbing the stairs. The queen stared at her for a long moment , seemingly not recognizing her oldest daughter before something seemed to change in her face.

“Ah, Azurine, good morning.” She nodded, but her eyes seemed to be drifting elsewhere. She was dressed in an elegant white gown that trailed behind her. The silver crown, embedded with a large clear diamond sat prominent on her head, dictating to all in doubt who she was. 

“You’re up early today, mother.” Blue observed.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. I had to see to the rebellion leaders Captain Stone brought in for interrogation…”

“Were you able to get any useful information out of them?” Blue asked, acutely aware of her mother’s drifting attention, it was often like this these days. As though she could not focus on conversations. Blue frowned, clasping her hands together at her waist.

“No... but they will serve as a warning to the rest of the rebellion…” The queen scowled, no longer looking at her daughter but out one of the hall windows that looked out over the courtyard.

Blue gave a nod unsure what else to say to the distracted queen. Before she could say anything else the queen was walking down the hall, seemingly forgetting about the conversation she was having with her eldest.

Blue started to say something but stopped short, watching her mother amble down the hall, the interaction all but forgotten. She frowned, watching the monarch disappear into her room.

She sighed before heading down the stairs to the dining room. She just didn’t know what to say to her mother anymore. Or even what she heard when she did speak.   

When she entered the dining room she wasn’t surprised to see her sister hadn’t yet come down. It was still fairly early after all.

She sat in her usual seat and glanced out the tall windows that lined both sides of the dining room. The sky was beginning to brighten with the light of the rising sun. Blue sat and watched the sky come alive with varying hues of orange, yellow and pink in silence. 

When Pink finally wandered into the dining room Blue had been their for nearly an hour, thinking and watching the rising sun spread its light over the empire. 

“G’mornin, Blue.” The younger princess mumbled, rubbing at her eye as she plopped into her seat beside the older woman. 

“Good morning, Pink.” She smiled at the younger.

“Are we still going to town today?” Pink piped up, remembering Blue’s promise from the day before.

“Of course.” she nodded as a tray of bread and fruit was set down in front of them. “I need to visit the apothecary.” Blue mumbled more to herself than to Pink as she picked up a piece of warm bread, but the younger picked up on it.

“Are you sick?” 

The desperate tone in Pink’s voice made Blue turn sharply. The girl was looking up at her with such panic in her bright eyes that Blue’s breath caught in her throat.  She turned in the chair to better face the girl.

“No, no Pink, I’m fine.” She soothed, laying her hands on the girls shoulders and giving a gentle squeeze. “Nothing is wrong.” She smiled.

The panic had slowly seeped from Pinks face but she still looked unsure. Her eyes flickered away, only for a moment, but Blue caught it. Their mother’s empty chair.

Oh

Blue’s grip on her sister tightened. She had hoped beyond hope that Pink was oblivious to their mother’s… behavior changes as of late. 

She sighed deeply through her nose, unsure what to say to the girl about it when she herself wasn’t even sure what was happening. 

“Don’t worry.” She finally said after a long moment. “Now eat, so we can be off to town.” She said, turning back to the table. Pink nodded, picking up an apple, but just ran her thumb over its mottled red and yellow skin thoughtfully while picking at her food with her other hand. 

When they had finished and Blue could see the younger girl getting antsy but doing her best to be patient. She stood, turning to Pink.

“Shall we go?” She was happy to see the bright smile take up her sisters face. 

“Do you think Yellow would come with us?”

“I suppose we could get the captain to escort us into town…” Blue hummed thoughtfully. Yellow’s presence would make them both happy.  

 “I’ll go get her.” Pink didn’t wait for an answer as she ran up the stairs to the knight captain’s quarters. 

“No, Rosaline!” Blue called after the teenager, she quickly gathered up her skirts and gave chase though her sister was already out of sight. 

“Oh, damnit” She breathed. 

~

“Yellow!”

“Hngh…” 

Inside Yellows personal chambers a lump stirred beneath the wool blankets, a single foot sticking out and hanging off the bed.  

“Yellow!” 

“Ugh…”  Slowly, dull honey eyes blinked open, adjusting to the bright early morning light that was filtering in through her windows. With a languid stretch and a yawn Yellow pushed herself up to sit. She slumped over, eyes starting to slide closed again. 

“Yellooooow!” The pounding on her door began again.

“Rosaline…”Yellow grumbled under her breath, whipping the blankets off her legs and plodding to the door. 

Blue finally caught up to the younger princess standing outside Yellow’s door and pounding on the wood with her fist. 

“Rosaline! You can’t just ...” Blue started as the door swung open, making both girls jump as the groggy and disheveled knight captain appeared, baggy cotton tunic hanging off her shoulders, the golden chain that held the diamond pendant Blue had given her was visible but the gem itself was hidden by the cloth. Pink noticed neither, far more preoccupied by the tired glower the knight was directing down at her. 

“What… princess…?” She managed the title almost as an afterthought, tone sharp. Blue bit her lip. Even disgruntled and half awake she found the knight too adorable for her own good.

“I...umm…” Pink stammered, looking up at the very obviously agitated knight. ‘We would like you to escort us to town…” She tried to make it sound like a royal order, but her wavering voice ruined any semblance of authority Pink may have technically possessed

Looking less than impressed, Yellow’s eyes dragged up to Blue, who was biting her lip and doing her best not to laugh at the whole thing. She cleared her throat, making Pink look back at her.

“We were hoping you would accompany us into town this morning, captain.” She smiled, clasping her hands together at her waist. 

She looked back down at Pink who was again, looking up at her pleadingly and holding up the apple she’d still had clutched in her hand.

“I brought you something from our meal.” She held out the offering.

Yellow sighed through her nose and took the offered fruit. 

“Wait for me in the stables…” She finally said. Pink grinned before taking off down the hall. 

Blue watched her disappear down the stairs before turning back to Yellow who was still blinking the sleep from her eyes. A quick glance around confirmed the hall was empty before she took the two steps to close the distance between them and laid a short kiss on the knights cheek.

“I’m sorry she woke you.” She murmured against Yellow’s warm skin.

“I should have been awake already at any rate.” She shrugged, stifling a yawn. Blue resisted the urge to kiss her again, Pink was waiting after all. Later, she promised herself. 

“We’ll wait for you.” She turned to go.

“Don’t forget your and Rosaline’s cloaks.” the knight reminded. 

~

Pink could hardly contain herself as they rode through the countryside into town. Watching all their citizens mill about, trading, selling and just living their lives. It fascinated the youngest royal to no end. A life so vastly different to her own, new and intriguing.

“Wouldn’t it just be so interesting, to be something else, to choose to be a seamstress or a cobbler?” She turned to her sister, who gave the girl an amused smile from beneath the hood of her black cloak. 

“Perhaps…” was her noncommittal answer. 

Yellow pulled the apple Pink had given her out of her jerkin and shined it on the black cloak covering her shoulders as she listened to the sisters talk. 

“Choose to spend your entire life in poverty, working all night and day long till you die?” Yellow cocked a brow at the youngest princess as she took a bit out of the fruit. Pink frowned.

“No… just, to do something different for a change. Besides, I’m a princess, I can do whatever I want.” Pink huffed, turning up her nose. Yellow’s response was to bring her horse closer and reach out and flip Pinks hood up, making the girl squeak.

“The point of the cloak is so you aren’t recognized.” She said around another bite. Blue smiled sadly.

‘If only that were true…’ Blue thought to herself looking over her squawking sister to Yellow, riding on her other side.

As if sensing her thoughts Yellow looked up from Pink and they shared a knowing look. Their status’ granted them more freedoms than most, yet at the same time those status’ bound them in other ways. 

To dutifully follow orders that dictated the slaying of men and women alike. 

To sit through the rambling of oblivious suitors from noble families and pick up all the duties being neglected by their monarch as she focussed on the rebellion.   

Bound to always being on guard, bound to dark corners of the library where no one would see the way they held hands or sat much to close as they spoke in hushed tones and grinned stupidly at each other. 

Pink would learn someday. 

“You chose to be a knight, Yellow.” Pink argued.

“No” Yellow said after swallowing the food in her mouth. “I chose to be a soldier for the empire. The queen made me a knight.” She corrected. “And I only chose to fight to escape the merchant class.” Yellow crunched on the apple. 

Blue could see the aggravation building with this line of conversation. Yellow’s father had not been a successful merchant, and had died penniless, leaving his only daughter with nothing at a very young age. 

“Pink…” Blue started only for the girl to plow ahead.

“What’s wrong with being a merchant? You can’t say you’d rather be a princess, it’s so boring. I think it would be fascinating to be a merchant.” She smiled.

“I think it would have been fascinating to not go hungry more days than not!” Yellow suddenly barked, turning a glare onto Pink, who shrank inside her hood at the look. Blue glanced between them worriedly. 

As the flash of anger cooled as quickly as it had come Yellow realized her mistake. Rosaline was a girl who had never truly known anything but the inside of the palace. She sighed, letting the snarl fall from her face, leaving her feeling tired.

“I apologize for that.” She started, looking for the right way to say this. “You don’t understand the kind of hardships your birth right has shielded you from Rosaline.” Yellow explained, leveling a serious but patient gaze on the youngest princess, who frowned. “My family was destitute. I chose to be a soldier not because I wanted to but because the only other choice available to me was starvation.”  

“Oh…” Pink mumbled.

“That being said, for all the things I’ve had to do in the empire's name, I don’t regret that choice.” She glanced at Blue, watching them. 

The rest of the ride into town was more subdued till they arrived and new life was breathed into Pink by the hustle and bustle of the towns people. They left their horses at the guardhouse where Yellow commanded one of her men to keep an eye on them.

“Come, Pink. I need to see the apothecary.” Blue reminded and started down the cobblestoned streets toward the shop in question. Pink sighed, looking longingly at all the merchant stalls in the opposite direction. 

“After” Yellow said, following Blue. Pink hurried along behind them.

Yellow wrinkled her nose when they stepped into the shop, the strong smell of herbs and salvs was overwhelming the moment they stepped through the door.

“Welcome!” The small, frail elderly shop owner called out to them when they entered.  

 Blue was quick to disappear among the many shelves of medicines.

“It smells in here…” Pink grimaced, looking around at the dark shop. Yellow grunted in agreement as they followed behind the elder princess. 

Pink eyed the many things for sale curiously. Rows of dark glass bottles with indiscernible contents lined one entire wall from floor to ceiling. On another were bundles of dried plants of all different kinds. 

Blue sifted through the plants carefully for the herbs she was looking for. Throwing the things she wanted into the sack she’d brought. A bundle of Yarrow, rosemary and mint all went into the bag. 

Pink watched her curiously.

“What is all this even for?” She questioned. 

“These…” She held up the sac. “When you add some wine and grind them into a paste are used for helping heal wounds and fight off infections.” She explained. 

“You’ve never been wounded, Blue.” Pink pointed out. 

“No, but I know some who frequently are.” Her eyes darted up to Yellow, who crossed her arms and huffed to herself. 

Pink caught the look and giggled at the pouting knight captain. 

"Are we done here?" Yellow groused.

"Nearly…" Blue nodded walking back up to the front with her things. She set the sac down in front of the elderly shopkeep. 

"Is that all you need?" She asked.

"Do you have anything that helps with...shifting moods??" She asked quietly. Yellow glanced at her, brows furrowing between her eyes.  

"Moods?" The old woman repeated. "Hmm..no, I’m afraid I don’t.” She shook her head. Blue frowned. 

“Than this will be all.” She nodded, pulling the small leather bag from beneath her cloak and handing over a handful of silver coins with her mother’s face minted on one side.

“We can go now.” She turned to her companions. 

“Finally…” Pink wasted no time leaving the dim foul smelling shop, but Yellow lingered, casting Blue a concerned look from beneath the hood of her cloak. 

“Later…” She promised, laying a hand on the knights arm as she passed. That did not make Yellow feel better. 

Pink was running ahead of them, toward the market.

“Come on!” Pink whipped around, cloak flapping about her form as she waved them on.

Blue couldn’t help but grin at her as they followed at a more relaxed place. 

She jumped when she felt a hand take hold of her own. She looked up at Yellow, eyes wide. Before looking back at Pink who was paying them no mind as she bounced between the different stalls set up along the street. 

“Are you alright?” The concern in those amber eyes made her breath hitch. She squeezed the hand in hers with a smile. 

“I’m fine, I promise. We’ll talk about it later.” She gave a final squeeze before gently tugging free of the knights grip and following behind Pink.

“Look at these.” The younger princess pointed at a table of glittering, uncut gems, polished to a high shine and reflecting light in all directions.

“Finest gemstones in all of Drysor!” the man claimed, sweeping a hand over his wares. Yellow rolled her eyes before wandering over to another table selling an assortment of leather goods.

“They are beautiful.” Blue conceded. The uncut stones had a primal charm to them, rough but charming in their own way.

Losing interest in the stones Pink moved to the table where Yellow was inspecting daggers. 

“Oh..” Pink picked up an elegant stiletto dagger with an intricate twisted handle and a small pink gem imbedded into the cross guard. “Yellow…?” Pink looked up at the knight who was testing the weight of a boot dagger. 

"Hmm?" She glanced at the princess out of the corner of her eye. 

"If I bought this dagger would you teach me how to use it?" She asked.

Yellow almost dropped the knife she was holding as she turned fully to face the princess, eyebrows disappearing into her hairline beneath the cloaks hood.

"What?' she asked unsure if she’d heard that correctly.

"I've just been thinking…" She started looking down at herself in the reflection of the blade. "With all the things that have been going on with the rebellion, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea if I learned how to protect myself." She looked up at Yellow.

The knight pursed her lips and she thought about the request. There were plenty of nobles who would say a princess didn't need to know how to use a dagger. Yellow however, was of the mind that everyone should know how to protect themselves.

She glanced up at Blue who was looking at her just as expectantly as Pink. 

“If that’s what you want…” She started and Pinks face started to bloom into a grin but Yellow quickly held up a finger. “On the condition… that you tell no one.” 

“Keep it a secret, why?” She tilted her head. 

“I have my reasons princess…” Yellow said crossing her arms over her chest. “So?” 

“A secret.” Pink grinned, giving a nod. 

“How much for the dagger?” Yellow called over to the merchant. A large bearded man. 

“20 ore.” he said. 

Pink immediately reached for the pouch of coins at her belt but Yellow stopped her by taking the dagger and inspecting it. 

“We’ll give you 12.” Yellow offered.

“12?! No, never!” 

“Very well.” She laid the dagger back on the table and began to walk away. Pink started to protest but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She looked up at Blue who was smiling knowingly.

Yellow didn’t get more than a few staeps away from the stall before…

“Wait!” The man called. Yellow glanced at him over her shoulder. “15 and it’s yours.” He offered. She turned to Pink and jerked her head at the man. She quickly paid him the agreed upon sum and took her new dagger with a wide grin. Blue chuckled to herself. 

“How did you know he would offer it for less. Yellow?” Pink asked as they walked away from the stalls and she slid the sheathed dagger into the belt holding her dress cinched at the waist. 

“I was born and raised in this place.” Yellow reminded. “The price they tell you is vastly inflated over what they’ll actually take. Only a fool pays the first price they demand.” 

Pink flushed.

“You should have gotten one, Blue.” She turned to her sister, who laughed behind her hand.

“Who said I don’t already?” A single sculpted brow rose in question. Pink starred up wide eyed.

As they exited the sidestreet of stalls a loud, raucous crowd had gathered in the center of town.

“What’s going on?” Pink looked around at all the jeering townspeople huddled together. 

Blue and Yellow exchanged glances. 

“Pink…” Blue started to reach for her but a moment to late as she moved forward, toward the center of the commotion. The two older women followed as she pushed her way through the crowd to the front. 

When they reached the front they could see what was going on.

Standing in the squares center were three men, looking worse for wear, chained and bound together. Several castle guards stood at the ready on either side of them while a man in noble garb held up a parchment and called for quiet among the rowdy townspeople. 

“Oh no…” Blue mumbled and Yellow could only agree. 

“What is it?” Pink asked looking up at them before turning back to whatever was going on. 

“Those are the Aarde rebel band leaders I captured.” Yellow leaned in and whispered to Blue who pursed her lips together tightly.  

“These men have been found guilty of treason against the empire!” The crowd began to holler and yell again before being quieted. “It is by the order of her royal majesty that they be put to death by stoning!” He declared to the cheers of the crowd. He turned to the men. “If you have any last words, speak them now or may they forever be lost.” 

“Long live Aarde!” the youngest of the three jumped up only for the first stone to come flying out of the crowd, smacking him in the forehead and knocking him to his knees. 

With that the dam was broken as large rocks flew through the air, smacking the men from every angle. They huddled together and covered their heads with their arms as they were beaten from all sides. 

The sounds of stone hitting flesh made Blue flinch, her hand covered her mouth.  

Pink watched in horror as a boy younger than her lobbed a stone at one of the huddled men, it struck one of them in the head and blood gushed from his ear as he curled into the fetal position, crying out as he was struck again and again. Stone breaking skin. 

 She jerked when a hand grabbed her shoulder. She looked up, wide eyed at Yellow’s grave face.

“We need to go.” Was all the knight said.

Pink could only nod numbly as Yellow pulled her and Blue through the crowd back to the guard house, though it wasn’t quick enough to miss the way all three men were now bloodied messes on the ground and the stones kept coming. 

The entire ride back to the palace Pink didn’t say a word. 

Blue watched her worriedly and Yellow just sighed to herself. 

They were supposed to be interrogating the band leaders. Had they gotten everything they could out of them already?    

She would get her answers when they returned to the palace.

And she would.

Walking back through the receiving hall did the trio come upon the queen leaving the throne room as court came to a close.

“Mother!” Pink spoke for the first time since they had left town. 

Winea Diamond looked up as her youngest came running up to her and wrapped her arms around her, burying her face into her chest. Blue stopped next to them and Yellow stood a few feet away, back straight and hands clasped behind her back.  

“Whatever is the matter my dear?” The queen ran her fingers through the girls soft curly hair. 

‘We went into town and they were executing the rebel band leaders.” Blue answered for her upset sister. “It was… disquieting…” She admitted. 

“Oh? Is that what you’re upset about?” She looked down at Pink who was looking back up at her with glassy eyes and nodded. “There’s no reason to be upset about that my dear.” She soothed, pushing Pink back just enough to look into her face. Pink started to smile.

“It’s what they deserved.” 

Pinks smile dropped and Yellows jaw clenched while Blue fisted her hands into her skirts. 

“They were rebellious traitors. They and their little rebellion are disrupting the peace and prosperity of our empire.” She explained to the girl as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “The rest will get much of the same.” She promised with a bright smile.

“B-but…”The girl stuttered.

“Now, no more of this crying.” She wiped at Pinks cheeks with thin wrinkled hands. “It is quite unseemly for someone of your status.” She tutted and pulled herself away from Pink and as she had done so often as of late seemed to forget they were even having a conversation as she just wandered away down the hall, leaving both her children and the knight captain in her wake.

Pink watched her mother go as tears continued to drip down her cheeks, once the queen was gone she choked on a sob. Blue moved to hold her but without a word Pink took off toward the stairs, sobbing. 

Blue looked desperately to Yellow who nodded her head toward the stairs. 

“Go, take care of her, I’ll wait for you in my quarters.” She said quietly. Blue nodded before hurrying off.

~

It was several hours later when Blue finally appeared, looking tired and drawn as she silently closed and latched the door behind her. Yellow watched her from her bed.

Blue crawled onto the bed next to her and laid her head on the knights chest. Yellow laid her hands across her back. 

“Is she alright?” Yellow finally broke the silence.

“For now…” She sighed. “She was upset about the execution but…I can’t keep it from her anymore.” Blue squeezed her eyes shut, fisting her hand into Yellow’s tunic as the knight waited patiently for her love to speak. 

“Something is wrong with our mother…” She said at last, voice barely above a whisper. Yellow tightened her grip on Blue.

“I’ve had my suspicions…” She mumbled. “Our orders have gotten more brutal and conflicting everyday.One day we have orders to secure a town and the next we’re ordered to burn it down...” 

“When you speak to her it’s as though she’s looking through you, like she can’t even see you.” 

Yellow could feel droplets of water on her skin.  

I don’t know what to do, Yellow…” Blue admitted. The knight buried her face into the princess’ hair and held her tightly. 

“It will be alright, my love.” She soothed, running her fingers through the long silvery strands while she cried. 

“How? How will it be alright?” Blue choked, looking up at her, searching desperately for an answer in her amber eyes. 

“I don’t know yet…” Yellow admitted, running a thumb over Blue’s cheek, wiping away the tears there. “But I will do whatever you need me to.” She promised. 

Blue closed her eyes and leaned into the gentle touch. 

“I know you will....” She mumbled, taking hold of Yellow’s hand and pressing a kiss to rough, scarred knuckles.  “I’d be lost without you…” 

“Hardly…” Yellow scoffed making Blue’s lips twitch upward as she laid her head back on her chest, resting beneath the knights chin, where they stayed till the morning light.