#glad my delirium is entertaining

[froggytoess]

Incorrect thg text posts 2

(Part 2 to say Ty for all love in the first one ❤️❤️)

Again Inspired by @imisslucasbaker + @swiftlark

Part 1

[itsjamethyst]

A Descent into Delicious Delirium by J_Amethyst for swisstae

Title: A Descent into Delicious Delirium

Rating: M

Wordcount: 27,273

Content Tags: Quidditch Player Harry Potter, Quidditch Player Draco Malfoy, Enemies to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Sexual Tension, Implied Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Drinking, Clubbing, Drunk Harry Potter, Bets & Wagers, Pining Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter in Denial, Period-Typical Homophobia, Quidditch Seekers, The Daily Prophet.

Harry makes a few piss-poor decisions. Malfoy’s still a rich prick. The lesson to be learned here: Don’t engage in a disastrous game of chicken. Unless, of course, you enjoy the idea of a naked photoshoot, and the entire Wizarding World believing you get off on Malfoy. The following is a recount of the course of events that unfolded. *All named persons have consented to the retelling of this story with stipulations of authorial dramatic flair. The author does not condone the views expressed and reflected by Rita Skeeter, The Daily Prophet, and other associated entities.

Now to thank some truly wonderful people, and a customary over-the-top spiel about how sappy I am about this fic.

I am unbelievably over the moon to finally talk about and share this fic with everyone. Writing this was such an amazing experience, and is possibly one of my favourite fics I've written to date. I feel like I say this every time a new fic gets revealed, but honestly speaking, every time I think about this fic I feel all happy inside.

Now that this fic is revealed, I can finally share that this Several Sentence Sunday post that a lot of people seemed to like is actually the deleted scene from this fic.

I want to thank everyone who helped make this story possible, so without further ado, give it up to all these phenomenal people: My alphas, @manixzen and @fantalf, you are both wonderful and were absolutely integral to this fic. From helping me with the tone and the pacing, and perfecting the events of the story.

To my beta @cam-the-chameleon, I don't even know what to say, because no words seem enough. Without you I don't think this fic would have even be possible. You are so thorough and your suggestions are always genius, some of my all time favourite moments in this fic were from your brilliant mind (WAGGLY, Horny Porker, doesn’t seem so inclined to keep away from big pairs of balls!) -- just to name a few.

Seriously, I am so proud of this story and I hope that everyone who read it enjoyed it as much as I did writing.

To the @quidditchfest mods, thank you for creating such an amazing fest. This was the very first fest I ever signed up to, and all I can say is that I am so glad to have participated.

Finally, to @swisstae. Your comments on every chapter of this fic were amazing, I am truly astonished. Thank you so, so much for all your love on that fic, I can't stop myself from going back and reading your comments... And dying a bit inside.

This fic was a lot of firsts. For one, it went through many, many changes during its infant stage. The time skips and the Prophet Article titles actually came a lot later on in the writing process. I was about half way into the fic when I completely changed the whole timeline, shifted scenes around, and decided to try the time skip headings. It was all a bit experimental, I had no idea if I was going to keep it in the final cut, but at the end of the day I'm so glad I did, because the time skips make Delicious Delirium what it is.

For the first time, I tried my hand at a little more light-hearted humour. Most of the fic is just me trying to make myself giggle with my shitty twelve-year-old humour. I'm so glad that my beta Cam shares this same humour, because we really did bounce off each other perfectly. Re: Horny Porker, doesn’t seem so inclined to keep away from big pairs of balls!

The Prophet Articles were also really entertaining to write, my favourite one is the Lockhart article. If you've read the fic, you know the one. Am I allowed to give myself a pat in the back for coming up with that Lockhart joke? Because I love it, and I was absolutely grinning when a commenter pointed that one out.

Thank you to everyone who engaged with the fic, it means the world.

[saipng]

tbh im here for the cringeporium, i have not and probably won't ever watch businessmen succ show but the posts about it are very entertaining

i’m genuinely glad you find joy in my delirium, you a real one

[sophieellisbextorarchives]

Lockdown's dancing queen: Sophie Ellis Bextor explains how she's survived with five sons while performing web concerts from her kitchen - and owes her life to the NHS after almost dying during childbirth

SOURCE: https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-8371137/Sophie-Ellis-Bextor-talks-surviving-lockdown-five-sons-performing-concerts-kitchen.html

Any mother of five who is still sane after two-and-a-half months of lockdown will surely have some survival tips for the rest of us. And Sophie Ellis-Bextor does indeed have advice.

Come Friday night, when the textbooks have been flung in a corner and you've finished screeching at the kids, you should dig out your heels and put on your sparkliest hot pants, she says.

'If you don't own a sequined one-piece, you should get one,' the singer insists. 'They make you feel like a disco superhero!'

She would also recommend a glitterball to hang in the kitchen. It will distract from the dirty dishes, she says.

Tidying the kitchen is optional, though: 'I do try to but if there's the odd dish in the sink, who cares?'

When the history of the great British lockdown is written, there will be villains (take a bow, Dominic Cummings) and heroes.

And Sophie Ellis-Bextor will surely be in line for a medal, for services to the national dancefloor (kitchen disco division).

Every Friday night for ten weeks she has donned her own glad rags and, via the magic of social media, invited us all to a disco round at hers.

She has been in charge of the mic, singing her own hits (with tweaks) and cover versions of some of her other favourites (speaking of favourite things, she even does a mean Julie Andrews).

Each week she has changed the lyrics of one of her biggest hits, Take Me Home, to the lockdown-friendly Stay At Home. We cheered. We heeded. 'Well, most people did,' she says.

Lots of entertainers have been doing their stuff in lockdown. Few of them have done so with five children in tow, though, and with such pizzazz.

You'd never guess it from the size of her waist but 41-year-old Sophie — whose mother is former Blue Peter presenter Janet Ellis — has five sons, aged from 16 down to 16 months. Her family life has never really been a part of her work.

But at the start of lockdown, something changed and she decided to stop being so precious about the work/home life divide.

'I've always been quite private, never showing the kids' faces, that sort of thing,' she says.

'But suddenly it all felt totally irrelevant. I just had this desire to sort of connect with people, to have fun and do something that just distracted us all — and for me, as an entertainer, that meant getting up and putting on a show.

'If it was going to be a show in my own house, the kids had to be involved as we're all locked down together. That overwhelmed any other emotion, really.

'I said to them, 'We're going to have a party. Do you want to come? What do you want to wear?'

'We pulled out all manner of sequined things we already had. They got out costumes, hats, whatever. There were no rules. They could be in their pyjamas if they wanted, because they often are.

'At the end of the first one, I remember making a joke like, 'This could be the end of my career.' '

In another time, it could have been. What too-cool-for-school singer sashays around the Lego, for goodness' sake? And what pop star hoicks a baby onto her hip, limbos around the lightsabers or attempts some sexy strutting when there is a pint-sized Superman in the way?

'It has been quite surreal, hasn't it?' she says with a laugh. 'But this whole situation is surreal, so I guess it has been fitting.

'We've had all sorts — the kids joining in, or sitting there bored with it all as I dance around them. We've had the baby crawling across the floor, trying to pull the plug out of the router. It's not stuff you normally have to contend with when you go on stage.'

And the performances have been all the more magical for it, I suggest. Her kitchen discos have been in keeping with the national mood, which lurches between delirium and despair and involves much trying to get on with the day job, with the kids at our feet.

All our kids are represented in hers, too. There is Sonny, 16 and a typical teenager, who mostly rolls his eyes at the idea of being in his mum's disco 'but actually he's invaluable because he helps with the baby so I can relax'.

Kit, 11, has 'kind of dipped in and out of the discos. He has missed a few. Sometimes he'd just rather do something else'.

Ray, eight, and Jesse, four, are generally game for anything — but if the children all join in at the same time, while wearing masks, the potential for chaos is high.

Last is baby Mickey, who likes to reach for bright lights. And cables. And sparkly shoes.

'I think what has kept some people tuning in is the music, but others are only watching to see if any of my kids injure themselves,' Sophie says.

People may also be tuning in to see her game attempts at making the most inappropriate songs kid-friendly. Her new repertoire includes the highly suggestive Prince song Gett Off. If the kids ask, it's a song about getting off the climbing frame, she explains.

When we speak, Sophie is preparing for — sob! — the last lockdown disco. Kitchen Disco No 10 will finish with a rousing rendition of the Madness hit Our House, which contains the lines 'Our house it has a crowd/ There's always something happening/ And it's usually quite loud'.

How apt. That sums up family life in all its messy glory.

It will be the end of a very weird chapter for Sophie.

'We could keep going but I'm getting the feeling that lockdown is being eased. There is a different feel, so it's time to stop. Although I'm bad at saying 'never again'.'

It has been a blast — and Sophie admits she has benefited herself.

'The discos have done my soul and my spirit the world of good. I've always turned to music anyway when anything has been happening in my life, good or bad, but I don't know what shape the past few months would have taken without this outlet.

'I've been doing cover versions of songs and they have all basically been like love letters to people I can't see any more.'

Lockdown came earlier for this household than for most of us. One of the children showed symptoms even before the schools closed, so they all isolated early.

That Sophie's stepfather — Janet's husband, John Leach — was having chemotherapy as part of his cancer treatment made the situation even more serious.

They are a close family. Janet, who lives only a few streets away in West London, is used to popping in and out, and provides childcare once a week. Any contact at all between them stopped overnight, as it did for so many families.

'I haven't hugged my mum since I don't remember when,' Sophie says. 'They couldn't leave their house at all at the beginning, so it was a case of leaving some groceries on the doorstep. My stepfather has Stage Four lung cancer and was in the middle of chemo, which had to stop.

'Now, thankfully, it has restarted but it has been a terrible time — devastating, really. For so many families the world has just tilted.' The older children understand why they can't see their grandparents, the little ones less so.

This is a united family (Sophie's mum split from her father, film and television producer Robin Bextor, but they are all on good terms), yet not necessarily one that ever did things by the rulebook.

Many will recall the furore when Janet — then the nation's darling, as many Blue Peter presenters were — fell pregnant with Sophie's brother Jackson. She was unmarried at the time and it was a national scandal.

It sounds as if Janet was the sort of mother Sophie has become — old-fashioned about some things (table manners, eating together) but more relaxed about others. And Mum having a slightly crazy day job was par for the course.

'I remember going with her when she did a skydive. She was in the Guinness Book of Records at one point for the highest-altitude jump for a female. At the time it was just normal.'

Janet didn't mind when Sophie decided she would not go to university because she wanted to join a band. 'Many parents would have said, 'No, we have paid for this private education. You will go,' but they never did. They were completely supportive.'

And of course, it worked out. Sophie started to get attention in the industry in the Nineties with indie band Theaudience — but in 2000 her career went mainstream thanks to a feature spot on the song Groovejet (If This Ain't Love) by Spiller.

Further hits followed. Then, in 2013, she went even more mainstream, signing up for Strictly Come Dancing. Her Charleston was a thing of wonder but she lost in the final to Abbey Clancy.

She knew her husband, The Feeling bassist Richard Jones, for a year before they started dating. When they did, it was something of a whirlwind and she discovered she was pregnant within weeks.

'Sonny was premature, so he was actually born eight months after we got together. Weird maths.'

Then, finding that it was rather fun, they kept having children. 'In a way I think it sort of set the tone, having Sonny so early. We've never really known what it is to be just the two of us.'

Juggling a pop career with five children can't have been easy, but her laid-back approach must help.

Some aspects of her parenting style have come in handy in lockdown, she says. 'I try to get up and dressed myself, but I'm not bothered if they want to stay in their pyjamas,' she admits.

Other aspects of lockdown have been hard. She admits she is not a natural home schooler.

'With five, it has been really difficult keeping up with the school stuff. I think their teachers do a brilliant job and I can't compare.

'At the start I did try hard, but to be honest I was feeling a lot of pressure to be running the home and making them emotionally happy. I quit quite early, realising it was making me really tense and really unhappy.

'We've kept the eldest two doing more formal work (Sonny is in his GCSE year, she explains) but with the little ones it's more about projects they can do.'

She says it isn't practical — or even desirable — to turn their home into a school. 'I'm hoping that home is where they learn to interact with each other, where they learn how to be happy, how to be kind.'

They have all been clapping on the doorstep on a Thursday night, too, aware of the debt they owe the NHS.

Sophie's life was saved by doctors when she suffered from complications during her first two pregnancies and gave birth prematurely both times. Kit weighed just 2 lb 6 oz.

'Anyone who has ever had a loved one's life in the hands of hospital staff knows what it is to feel that gratitude,' Sophie says.

'If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't be here and neither would my first two.

'I'll never forget their faces, the doctors and nurses who treated us in the neonatal unit. You don't, because you owe them everything.'

To be a singer in this climate is perhaps to feel a little superfluous, but Sophie says the only things she can do are sing and dance. The reaction from the wider world to her 'little discos' has been heartwarming.

'If you can make people smile and laugh at how daft it all is, then you make a connection that is actually quite special.'

We are getting all wistful now, when I suggest that her sons will grow up knowing they were a part of something magical. She laughs.

'They are more likely to roll their eyes at their crazy mum dancing around and tell me to keep the noise down!'

[casualcatte]

RP Journal 8/24 and 8/25/2020

08/24/2020

The Bounty Call Elite Hunt was today and I was /severely/ disappointed in my own performance. Everyone else that came along with us was splendid, but for my own part -- Gods, I think my parents are turning over in their graves in shame. I’ve lived and breathed the Hunt since I could walk, yet I couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn today if my life depended on it. It was likely the fault of the aetheric blast I took immediately after I drew first blood on the beast, so I really shouldn’t be so hard on myself. Nan’to Vaadrage told me as much when we returned to Headquarters.

(Courtesy cut for length -- and for you to get your tissues!)

Regardless of my poor performance, we managed to take down the Elite Hunt with only a modicum of trouble. For a short while, it seemed like no one could get a blow to land on the beast until I landed that attack. After that, the others seemed to rally and fight all the harder -- while I mostly stayed behind a rock and tried not to puke my guts out like Zanshin Kutabare.

It was curious to see Loksia Grimheart with a bow, considering that when we’d gone hunting for coral she’d opted for a sword and shield. A woman of many talents, that. The others, Azazel Hasegawa and Ryza Eclipse I’d never before met, but they both did well between their various magicks. Still, I was glad to finally see the beast go down.

I stayed long enough to have a celebratory drink with everyone, then I stumbled off home. I wasn’t badly injured, but aetheric bullshit always messes with me. Gods, to say nothing of the two aetheryte trips. I know I’m trying to learn Astromancy and all, but some days I really, really hate aetherical magic.

I’m not sure how, but I managed to make it home, get cleaned up and changed out of my hunting leathers before falling face-first in my couch. Lorrendor, I knew, had gone back to Ul’dah, but I had no idea where that dragoon, Edgard Beaumont had gone. All I knew was that I was exhausted and had to rest.

The remainder of the night, I’m told, was passed in a fevered haze as the after-effects of the aether poisoning got to me. I don’t know what I said or what I did, but I have a feeling that I was a lot of trouble for Ardi.  Between you and I, journal, I was touched that he stayed right next to me, sitting on the floor beside the sofa, watching over me all night. 

Wilbur, a porxie familiar that was gifted to me by Rae-Hann, apparently put in an appearance when I started to have nightmares. He siphoned away the excess aether and that seemed to help me a fair bit. I’m sure that it was just a fever-dream, but I recall waking at one point with Edgard’s arms around me as he held me close, telling me that everything was going to be okay, that I was safe at home in my cabin. My face was wet from tears and I felt like I’d been screaming. The nightmares Wilbur took away must have been severe. I don’t remember much else except for a pink book that Ardi kept hiding.  Why would he need to hide a book?

I slept.  And this time I didn’t dream.

8/25/2020

When next I awoke, I sent Edgard off to get some fresh air and to stretch his muscles.  As I mentioned, he’d sat on the floor all night watching over me as I slept. No doubt that man was achy and in need of some activity.  While he was gone, I gingerly made my way to the bath and gave myself the promised soak I’d meant to have when I got home, but skipped in deference to sleep.  Once more dressed and ready to face the world, I settled back into my comforter nest on the sofa that Edgard had made me and read one of the books he’d left to keep me entertained, along with a cup of tea and some medicine to help with the nausea.

It was thus that I was found by Lorrendor Hauland when he came to visit. I was surprised to see him come all the way from Ul’dah, given that our last encounter had been… unsettling to say the least. I can’t really tell you what happened between then and now, but this Lorrendor was a different man entirely.

Have I not said before that every encounter with this man feels like it’s with a different person?  Today was no different.  This was a Lorrendor who was stiff and austere, emotionless save for the one point he laughed when I proclaimed him an automaton. He fetched me tea, he was exceedingly polite and complimentary. I told him at one point I half expected to hear him replying with “Yes, Mistress” and “Whatever you wish, Mistress” to everything I said ere long.

He kept saying that he was “Lorrendor as he should have been instead of the Lorrendor he became.”  So this was another version, another mask, as he tried to tamp down his love for me and simply be my friend. Sometimes it makes me wonder if the man has ever lived an honest life and if anyone knows who he truly is?  The many Lorrendors I know may be nothing at all like the Lorrendor that Loksia knows or anyone else among his friends.  There’s really no telling and there’s really no comparing notes.  I don’t know the man.  I’m not sure I ever will.  He doesn’t trust me enough to be himself around me and I don’t trust him enough /because/ he chooses to hide.

Still, I owe it to him to bring him with me into Dusk Vigil when I go. We’d tracked the Saurotaun to the ruin and think that it may be a lair for it, so that alone is worth investigating. He suggested I bring along people I trust.  Naturally, Edgard as my hunting partner, and Rae-Hann as my closest friend, and after some debate, Lorrendor.  He’d brought me this information to begin with, the least I could let him do was see it through to the end with me.

Somewhere during this conversation, Ardi returned from his walk. When I queried why he’d been gone so long, he said he’d gotten “distracted” then he tried to hide the same pink book he’d had yesterday behind his back. I tried to get it from him a number of times, even tried to get Lorrendor to fetch it when Ardi threw it across the room, alas.  Neither of us could foil that wily dragoon when he’s of a mind he has a secret to keep. 

With Edgard present, we discussed the plan for Dusk Vigil again and the dragoon recommended we make it a scouting mission in case the monstrosity was at home. If we saw it, we would retreat and come back with a more tactical plan. Part of me rankled at being made to wait, especially if it was /right there/ but I knew better than to argue. Certainly not with /both/ he and Lorrendor there.  

Eventually, Ardi and I settled into our usual banter with Lorrendor chastizing us both as children -- though this time we /were/ being pretty childish -- but all of us laughed and had some fun, I think.  Lorrendor needed to catch the last flight from Ishgard to Ul’dah, so he took his leave. 

Which left just Edgard and I.  Again, I tried to get the secret of the pink book out of him, but he refused to tell.  He made me another cup of tea and we talked, as we often do.  I pointed out to him that he seemed much more relaxed that he had when he first arrived in Kugane after his fight with Edmond. He seemed more at peace with himself, that whatever chains holding him down had broken and now he had a chance to soar -- but had no idea how to use his wings.

He told me that I’d helped him a great deal, that he’s actually excited when he wakes up in the morning. And in this excitement he gave me a linkpearl, so that we could talk even when we’re apart. It’s a silly, common thing that everyone uses, but it felt meaningful coming from him. Naturally, I had to tease him about it, though, saying that he just wanted to whisper sweet nothings into my ear whenever he wanted. 

He inferred then that Something Happened last night in my fevered delirium.  He refused to tell me though, saying that something so /intimate/ was meant to be kept a secret. It worried me.  Had I said or done something inappropriate?  I think I would know, physically, if I’d slept with him and I didn’t really feel that was the case. Idiot, of course he’d delight in worrying me like that.

Still, when I demurred that I didn’t do much of anything for him, he said that I was one of few people who took him seriously, outside of his brother.  I listen to him and he feels like he can talk to me about anything. That I could be trusted with his problems. It was heartwarming to be so trusted and I reassured him that I would always be there for him as long as he wanted.

It was then that his mood shifted somewhat and he told me that he was finally ready to go to Valentina’s graveside, to finally find the closure with her that his heart and his soul both needed. He asked me again if I would still go with him.  And my answer was of course, I’d promised him that I would. For the first time since I’d know him, I saw fear ripple through Edgard.  Fear, uncertainty, and a vulnerability that made my heart ache for him. 

I sat next to him, leaning into his side, just to give him a real, living presence to comfort him in such a troubled moment.  I reassured him that he wasn’t alone.  He would never be, so long as I drew breath.  When next he looked at me, his eyes captured and held me within their blue crystalline depths. It was in those depths that I could see … longing. Like a moth to a flame I was drawn to it, enchanted by it -- for a moment, I reached out to that flame…

Before I came to my godsdamned senses!  I made my excuses to leave, claiming I needed sleep in my own bed and I left the room. Ardi seemed bewildered and confused, it made my heart ache.  I couldn’t believe I’d gotten that close to going against my own expectations. I can’t.  I can’t do to him what Tristane did to me. I don’t want to hurt him. I was angry and disappointed in myself for not minding my /own/ boundaries. 

As I sat in my room, rebuking myself for my behavior.  I heard him talking to himself on the other side of the wall.  What I heard, what he said, made my heart hurt all the more. Part of me wanted to go to him, to reassure him, but I knew it was better for us both to remain silent. The Hunt must always be first in my heart.  Until it is done, I can’t… I won’t put anyone in the position to love me only for me to die.  I knew that pain once and I swore I would never inflict it on anyone else.

What do I do now?  How do I act?  I never meant for things to get this far. Somewhere, somehow… what wasn’t serious became serious.  If I deny his feelings like I did Lorrendor, will he do the same thing?  Turn into some emotionless marionette, just going through the song and dance of friendship?  I don’t know that I could take that.  Ardi is a source of joy to me and a good partner. I don’t… I don’t want to have to be without him.

Why does making the right choice have to be so goddamned hard?

[skvaderarts]

Chapter Eleven: Rumination

You can check out the Masterlist Here for more links to places to read!

Note: As per usual, I want to extend a warm thank you to Aureux, HunterJamie, BeansWithBones, RubixaSeraph, Random Reader Nothing Special, and He Who Wanters for their wonderful comments. I smiled like an idiot when I was reading your feedback. In fact, I wasn’t originally planning on writing out this part of the story, but I was so happy that I did. This intermission dinner chapter is for you guys! Enjoy it before things… change a bit. Thank you once again for your continued support. Means the world to me!

-~-

A bay window that spanned the entire outward-facing wall that overlooked the street below was all that separated the cozy dining room from the raging torrent of stormwater just outside the stone rowhouse. As the windows whipped and churned outside, the interior remained dry, even as the window rattled slightly in an earnest effort to not open in response to the prodding storm that it held at bay. The well-built structure served its purpose gallantly, those that dwelled within its walls not needing to worry if their home was going to come crashing down on top of them at any moment. And considering the fact that it was now time for dinner, that was a welcome relief.

In the center of the room sat an oblong table with seven chairs around it. Although generously sized, the eating space had originally been designed with six people in mind. This was clearly illustrated by the presence of the seventh chair at the table. Although it matched relatively well (I mean, what doesn’t match a white table?) The seat clearly originated from an alternate source; the custom stitched patchwork cushions in each seat being the only thing that tied everything together. And it was all very charming in a rather arts and crafts farmhouse sort of way.  

Various eating apparatuses were carefully positioned around the table, the placements having been set by the children while Kyrie was busy importing food front the kitchen into the eating space. As a result, several things on the table were crooked, but no one honestly minded. The little ones had tried their best, and that was all that really mattered at the end of the day.

While Kyle, Carlo, and Julio clambered into their seats, their adoptive mother opened the curtains to allow what meager light there was outside to shine into the room. While the space was not claustrophobic, at this given moment in time, it was a bit crowded. Four adults and three young children made for quite the dining experience, especially when everyone present was so vastly different than everyone else. Or, at least they were at first glance. It was true that their personalities were quite different, but they were all united by common goals and the care that they showed for one another. Even when that care was thrown for a loop as the children bickered with one another, causing a bit of a ruckus before Kyrie shushed them gently. They had a guest, after all. This was no time to be rowdy. 

“Now now,” She said with a happy but stern tone,” were at the table. No fighting.”

Just as Kyrie was in the process of setting down the ceramic bowls she had ladled hot soup into, Nero emerged from the living room with V in tow. A moment later, Nico joined them. She came down from the second floor of the house and slipped into the dining room, eager to experience whatever culinary delights Kyrie had prepared for them today. To say that she was a wonderful cook would be an understatement, and Nico was not a picky eater. She would eat just about anything that the brunette woman put in a plate in front of her, as long as she had cooked it.

Nico sat down between the two oldest boys, prepared to pester them senseless if the need should arise. V, almost predictably, sat nearest to the corner of the room, his back facing the doorway as if he were poised to take flight should the need arise. This entire situation was entirely foreign to him. In his entire life, he had never been invited to or subsequently experienced a family dinner. That was most certainly due to the fact that he hadn’t any family to speak of until now. In the blink of an eye, he had died, returned from the brink of damnation, and then awakened as if it were all an unpleasant dream, only to find out that he had quite the extended family. It was all a bit much to take in all at once, but he was trying. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he longed for Griffon’s familiar -if not antagonizing-  voice within the confines of his mind. He had grown used to the wisecracking bird’s little jabs and jests, as they had always provided ample entertainment and distraction from the concept of actually having to socialize with those around him. As much as he wanted to get to know everyone, his social battery was rapidly depleting and he would be remiss to not acknowledge that being alone in his new room was a tempting venture.

In his current state, he felt very exposed and vulnerable, and that was not a sensation that he generally enjoyed. V couldn’t pinpoint what it was but, in a way, he felt like he was missing something. Yes, obviously he was missing much at the moment. Namely his loyal summons and their accompanying tattoos, but this was born of something more than that. When his mind wandered, his hands normally stopped that from occurring by turning his attention to something else entirely. But that something had been misplaced, and V was just now realizing what it was that was amiss. As he combed over the remnants of his still marginally fragmented memory, it occurred to him that he hadn’t the slightest idea where his beloved book had gone. Or his cane for the matter. While he didn’t require it to walk, it most certainly made him feel more secure in his person, as it reduced the risk of him falling flat on his face and breaking every bone in his body, or something else equally tragic and dramatic. And his book served a similar purpose, only for his mind instead of his body. He desperately craved a distraction despite not having a clear reason to need one.

As his subconscious drifted into idly thought, he was suddenly made aware of his surroundings again when a small hand tugged on him. He snapped out of his delirium only to find that Carlo had clambered into the seat beside him. While Nero, Nico, and Kyrie were engaged in some sort of conversation with one another about the dinner that he had yet to taste, the small child had seen fit to take his bowl of soup and relocate. No one seemed to notice except for V, as their current conversation proved a formidable distraction.

The young child smiled shyly at him before reaching for the nearest spoon with the intention of eating his soup. V felt a wave of silent panic hit him as the thought of the young child tipping the bowl by mistake and scalding himself crossed his mind. He was on the taller side for a child his age, but not quite at the height required to reach the table safely. V held his hands out and gently stopped the child, garnering a curious look from him as he scooped him up and sat him down next to the table. V then took the cushion out from underneath himself and sat it on top of the existing one in the child’s chair before ushering for him to climb back up. After noticing the child’s hesitation, it occurred to him that he might not be able to do so, so he lifted him up under the arms and plopped him back down into his again.

Carlo smiled and then turned back to his soup, ready and eager to finally eat his dinner. V internally sighed, unnaturally relieved that the sweet child before him hadn’t managed to harm himself. While the liquid wasn’t hot enough to do any notable harm to an adult, it was to a child his age, and he felt compelled to prevent that. V then turned his attention to his own bowl of soup and somewhat hesitantly ate a spoonful himself. Admittedly, he hadn’t been that hungry before now, which was uncommon for him. But now that he had tried it, he was beginning to warm up to the concept. There were descriptor words that he could use to describe how good this soup was, but he had made the decision a lifetime ago to only use those specific words under special circumstances. This wasn’t quite what he had in mind when he had set those restrictions. Regardless, this soup was delicious.

After eating several spoons of the soup, it occurred to V that he hadn’t thanked Kyrie for dinner. He glanced up from his bowl and was slightly startled when he noticed that Nico and Nero were both staring at him like he’d grown a second head while Kyrie giggled happily. V mentally kicked himself. Why was his spatial awareness and concentration so bad today? Sure, he had plenty of reasons to not be feeling quite himself, but this still. Concentrating wasn’t something he had ever had an issue with. This was... unsettling.

V stared back at them, his eyebrow raised. What had he done this time? See this, this was why V was bad at small talk. The eye contact made his skin crawl, even when it came from people he actually liked. He could physically feel himself recoil in discomfort the longer they looked at him like this. After a moment he glanced back down at the bowl and continued eating. “... This is delicious. Thank you.”

If it was possible for a smile to physically render a person blind, then Kyrie succeeded. V stared at her and in surprise as she smiled, practically radiating actual light from her happiness. “Oh, thank you! I’m glad you like it! I noticed the weather, so I thought this would be a perfect time to make soup. And then you Nero brought you home and you seemed sick, so my mind was made up!”

Nico smirked and folded her arms as she gestured towards him. “I didn’t think you even ate food, V! Wow, it’s weird seeing you do… normal stuff, ya know?”

Nero nodded in agreement. Obviously, V ate food. He was a living, breathing being. But there was just something so oddly unnatural about having him over to eat with them. V was too mysterious and subtle to bother with petty normal people things like eating over with family. Or so Nero had figured for some reason that he couldn’t pinpoint. He didn’t really know what to say about it. In a way, he had been so wrapped in mystery and suspicion when they had first met that nothing he did or didn’t do didn’t seem unnatural or suspicious, but now he knew him much better than he had before. And yet somehow this was still just so surreal to him.

V shrugged as he finished eating his food, unsure of what to really say to that. “I would imagine that’s because I’m not exactly normal.” 

That all too familiar smirk returned as he put down the empty bowl, not at all noticing that he was the first person to finish eating by a longshot. He hadn’t exactly eaten the food quickly so much as he had simply not stopped eating it for even a moment from the second he tasted it. Part of him wanted to ask for more of it, but he decided against it. He had felt quite queasy earlier that day. It was best not to push it for now. He would sleep on this and see how he felt tomorrow.

Nero shook his head before going back to his food. “You got that right, V.”

-~-

When Kyrie had asked Nico to throw the clothes in the laundry while she put the kids to be, she didn’t hesitate. It was a better idea than allowing her to try and get them to calm down and actually go to bed. A much better idea. The last time that she had tried to do that, they had been up until three in the morning, and she had fallen asleep only to wake up the next morning to a catastrophic mess in the kitchen. No one wanted that.

Nero had volunteered to do the dishes in an act that had led to no small amount of friendly teasing from Nico before they had all gone their separate ways. And in an act that actually took every adult at the table by surprise, V volunteered to help him. Kyrie had insisted that he didn’t need to help since he was a guest, but he had politely insisted, partially from an incessant need to feel less useless, and because he had literally nothing better to do. And that was how they had ended up alone in the kitchen.

As Nero finished washing one of the dishes, he passed it to V who then dried it and placed it effortlessly in the overhead cabinet. Nero shrugged as if to ask his brother a question, testing the limits of how far he could push V in regards to jokes. 

“So what the hell,” He said as he handed him another cup. He accepted it nonchalantly as he leaned against the counter,” Have you always been this freakishly tall?”

V scoffed at the comment, idly drying the plastic drinking cup,” Absolutely. Walking with a cane simply makes that less apparent.”

Nero nodded. That made sense. “Then… why didn’t you just get a longer cane?”

V seemed to consider the question for a moment. Or rather, he debated if he should go into that right now. “I… wasn’t afforded the opportunity to pick in the situation I was in. I needed to act fast, or I wouldn’t have lived long enough to think about it later.”

An eyebrow went up at the answer. What the hell was he going on about? Had he been under attack? Nero knew just by the way that he answered that question that he wasn’t going to elaborate any further, at least not right now. But he still couldn’t help but wonder what he was referring to. His life before they had met seemed to be just as chaotic as ever. Would he ever tell him about where he came from? One thing at a time.

He gestured towards Nero’s arm almost lazily.” So, how did your arm grow back?” There was genuine curiosity in his tone, masked under a thick layer of sarcasm. He asked the question so bluntly that it nearly gave Nero whiplash. He stopped washing the dishes for a moment and gave V a sideways look. He didn’t sound like he didn’t care so much as he sounded totally unimpressed, almost like he already had an idea what had happened. Nero briefly considered showing him his Devil Trigger instead of just telling him about it and then came to his senses. If he triggered in the kitchen, he'd probably break everything in here. That, and he’d probably give V a protracted stroke, and he already had enough problems right now.

“I got some new powers and they just kinda fixed it. It’s complicated. I don’t know how to make it make sense,” Nero shrugged, unsure of how to really explain what happened. He wasn’t honestly one hundred percent sure himself. Just grateful.” It works like a normal arm and everything, but Nico modified the Devilbreakers so I can still use them. It’s pretty sweet.”

V nodded to himself, taking in what Nero had just told him. “So it didn’t grow back so much as it replaced itself, then.”

Nero paused for a moment to hand him the last dish before nodding to himself. “Yea, basically,” Nero turned the tap off and wiped his hands on the dish towel,” Why, you planning to cut something off and taking notes? I don’t recommend it. It’s fucking painful.”

He dried the dish and placed it in the cabinet, pausing for a moment. V gave Nero a subtle yet sympathetic look, nodding slowly. “Yes… I imagine that it did,” he reached over his head and closed the cabinet door,” And no, I don’t plan on losing any parts of my body. Dying again isn’t on my agenda as of yet.”

Nero stared at him for a moment in disbelief at the deadpan way he had just said that before bursting out into genuine laughter. Seriously, what the absolute fuck was wrong with him. He leaned on the counter for support for a moment as he tried to stop laughing, slightly lightheaded. V let slip a brief snicker before going totally silent again, trying not to let Nero’s stupidity get to him. When Nero finally stopped laughing, he shook his head and just rolled his eyes. “

“You’re the darkest asshole I’ve ever met in my entire life, you know that right,” Nero folded his arms and shook his head, suppressing a final laugh,” I and saw you fucking laugh.”

V shook his head once, his serious facial expression remaining. “No, I didn’t. I don’t laugh.”

Nero rolled his eyes again. Uh-huh. I’m sure.”

V scoffed, smirking wickedly. “That wasn’t a laugh. You’d be able to tell the difference.”

Nero turned in the direction of the doorway, en route to the stairs. “Whatever, V. Just-” Nero stopped for a moment, something occurring to him for the first time since they’d first met,” Actually what the fuck is your name anyway?”

He folded his arm, blinking a few times quickly. The totally calm look that he had on his face never wavered. V figured he’d ask that at some point, but it still didn’t change his answer. At least for right now. “No. Go to bed.”

Nero just looked at him for a second before. He had never thought that V actually had a sense of humor until now. Well, at least more of one than Vergil had. That wasn’t a very high bar to meet. Nero practically shuttered at the thought of Vergil ever trying to tell a joke. No, Dante had inherited all the funny genes. He utterly refused to believe that Vergil could be funny. And he never wanted to hear him laugh. EVER. He had just developed a phobia he didn’t even know existed.

As Nero took a step towards the bottom stair, he glanced back at V. For a moment the gravity of everything that had happened in the last two days hit him all at once and he couldn’t help but feel slightly emotional. He liked V. He didn’t know if he would ever tell him that straight to his face, but he did. And he was glad that he was back. Maybe they could start over. After he’d lost Credo, he didn’t think he had it in him to be close to anyone like that again. Not with that kind of relationship. But he was a different person now, so he could only hope, even if hope was a dangerous and foolish thing.

“... I’ll see you in the morning, V.”

V smirked, quietly pleased with himself. He turned towards the guest room, glancing back at him as he headed down the hall. “Yes,” he stopped for a moment, turning back to face him,”... Goodnight, Nero.

-~-

Finally, some wholesome family time for V! It only took his entire life, but here we are! As always, thank you guys for reading! The next chapter will be out on Friday, June 5th between Noon and 6 pm, depending on what’s going on. And also, how do you feel about these slower chapters. Obviously, we’re working towards something with some ACTION, but I hope I’m not boring you with the pacing. Let me know! And thanks for the kudos, everyone! Yes, you too, anons! This is the most read fic I’ve ever written. Amazing. Just wow. I couldn’t be happier!

P.S.I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this, but I made a website just for reading my fics. It’s free if you want to check it out. I hope you like it. I made sure everything was really easy to navigate. Here’s the link: https://skvaderarts.wixsite.com/skvaderarts

[ionchef]

King of Anything- An Escaflowne Fanfiction

King of Anything

Act 1, Chapter 3, Part 2

In which Millerna narrows her eyes and Yukari's shoulders slump.

Van and Millerna watched Hitomi stumble away and exchanged uneasy glances. "Something seems off," the princess commented, whereupon Van frowned. Hitomi didn't seem like the kind of girl who'd purposely get hammered.

Alas, it didn't take long for her to emerge back out of the nook where the doors to the restrooms were. Only, she looked ten times worse now. Millerna's eyes narrowed when she witnessed Hitomi try to place her drink on a ledge, then drop it in mid-air, likely due to skewed depth perception. Her periwinkle eyes then widened while she reached for Van's arm. "We need to check on her."

Nodding, Van was already off in Hitomi's direction, dodging imbibed guests in his way. Seeing her stand there staring at the mess on the ground, visibly confused and frozen, made his movements urgent. Though she'd been rather bold with him before and confident with Millerna later, she now looked very lost.

As Van placed his hand on her shoulder, he immediately noticed that her skin was cold through the thin material of her blouse. Despite the high collar, the thing was doing nothing to keep her warm even in the steamy environment of the Mystic Moon where people were grinding and twerking on the dancefloor not far away.

"Hitomi. Are you alright?" Van asked when she slowly turned and inclined her head to face him. Her eyes had trouble focusing, causing her to shake her head slowly in an attempt to get rid of whatever was clouding her mind.

"Mmmh. Fine." Was all she responded while placing one of her hands against the front of his suit jacket to steady herself.

Millerna wasn't far behind them. "Let's get her away from all the people."

Van nodded. "Right," but didn't take his eyes off Hitomi. Her mascara was smudged and had settled into the creases around her eyes, giving her a haunted look.

"Hitomi, be a dear and come with us," Millerna instructed politely.

"Ooookay," was all she replied while smiling dreamily.

Van sucked in a deep breath. She sounded weird. Too readily complying.

Hitomi didn't resist at all when he guided her to the area where the private tables and couches were, secluded by a row of tight, sparkly crystal bead curtains. His hand was on her lower back as he nudged her in that direction with Millerna right by their side, making sure nobody was watching too closely. Good thing most of the people here were drunk at this hour.

Having anyone witness that the king and the princess of Asturia were ducking into a private area with a strange woman would surely prompt some juicy rumors. The area where they had all started out the evening earlier was still deserted. Save for some empty bottles of Champaign and glasses- a few of which had been knocked over by the girls in their haste of getting to the dance floor- there wasn't much around.

A bit clumsily, Hitomi tripped over her own feet and nearly crashed into the glowing glass table but a strong arm around the waist steadied her before something could happen. "Sheesh," Van huffed when her arms still flailed, holding her carefully until she seemed steady enough again.

Millerna wasted no more time and stepped up to cup Hitomi's cheeks in her hands. "Look at me, Hitomi."

Hitomi complied obediently. Millerna observed her for a moment, then asked her to follow a finger as she moved it left and right in front of her face. Hitomi's reaction was way off.

"Just what I thought. She's not drunk."

"She isn't?" Van asked while unbuttoning his suit jacket and removing it to drape it around Hitomi's shoulders.

"Mmmh," Hitomi closed her eyes and smiled, snuggling into the garment. She pivoted to face Van, then proceeded to slip her arms around his waist, lean into him, and bury her face in his chest. "You smell good," she announced quietly but happily, then mumbled, "like pet...pet-richor and charred wood."

Van gulped when he felt her nose nuzzle his pectorals through the black dress shirt. "She-she isn't?" His hands were hovering in the air near her waist uncertainly.

Millerna studiously tapped her chin with one finger, the other hand braced on her hip. "She isn't," Millerna confirmed. "She's high on some drug, and…I mean I've only just met her today but judging by what little I know her, would say she didn't take anything on purpose."

That set a part of Van's brain on fire. "What?!"

"Somebody must have slipped her something," Millerna theorized.

His hands suddenly settled onto Hitomi's sides, almost protectively. He bunched the fabric of his jacket in tight fists there, instinctively pulling her closer. "What do we do?" Van asked while regarding the woman leaning against him so contently, his anger dominating any uneasiness. Safe. She was safe here with him.

"Well," Millerna continued but certainly didn't miss her friend's atypical behavior. "It will wear off but it's best if she is brought home so nothing happens to her."

"Right," Van readily agreed again. He was unbelievably thankful to have a friend like Millerna. Out of all the royal pains, she was by far his favorite and always able to keep a cool head in situations where he'd be out for blood by now. He could really use some of that talent.

"I'll go find Allen. Pretty sure her friends are still with him near the bar. Do not let her out of your sight for even a second. Who knows what kind of weirdo is out there, waiting for her to be alone again. Pliable as she is right now, you could probably make her do anything you want," Millerna advised before straightening her dress and leaving.

Pliable? Make her do? Van glanced back down to Hitomi who then lifted her head away from his chest and stared at him dopily, mouth slightly agape as if waiting for something. He hissed through his nose when he realized what Millerna had implied. Not on his watch!

Van carefully removed Hitomi's arms from around his waist and maneuvered her to the couch. When she plunked down, the velvet shorts she wore hiked up another good two inches and bared the whole length of her lithe legs. Van definitely was glad Millerna and him had found her before anybody else because, at that moment, he had a few pretty good ideas for what kind of X-rated things someone might want to make her do.

He felt extremely bad for even thinking about it while she was in such a delirium. What if they hadn't been there? Hitomi's upper body swayed as she sat, completely zoned out. A few moments later she almost fell off the couch too, slowly beginning to fold forward at the waist.

Van hadn't taken his eyes off her, so he quickly dropped to one knee and grabbed both her shoulders, steadying her. Hitomi giggled. He didn't feel like giggling at all. Even though Millerna said the drug would likely just wear off, he was wholly uncomfortable with her having to go through this.

Concern etched onto his face, Van looked her over again. Some part of him wanted Hitomi locked in a room. Now. Until she was stone cold sober and very much in control of her wits again. So sober she'd be able to slap him or anybody else hard for attempting to do anything at all she didn't approve of. It made him feel doubly bad again for the stolen kiss. Although, at least for that she'd had her retribution.

A small crease appeared between Hitomi's brows and one of her hands slowly crossed the space between them. Van was too dumbfounded and intrigued to stop her when she wove her fingers into his hair and combed it forward so that it fell in a messy angle across his forehead. "Better," she announced with a weak smile. "I like this better."

So some part of her did know who he was. Maybe that also meant she was aware that she was safe. Or maybe not, because…well…

"Yeah,…" Van sighed quietly. "Me too." He wanted to entertain the illusion that he could have a normal conversation with her right now. About his hair. Because at least it meant she was somewhat okay and in control of herself, but…

"Why are your eyes red?"

…that question, out of nowhere, surprised him. She'd spoken quietly and was still playing with a few wisps of his hair.

The color of his eyes was a bit of a sore spot for two reasons so he never talked about it. Flaming red irises was the prominent feature both his mother and brother had shared as well and thinking of his family was never not going to be painful. It wasn't difficult to explain either but nothing exciting at all, so none of the tabloids ever wrote about it.

She likely wouldn't even remember if he told her now. "Lack of pigment in my eyes passed down by my mother. She and my brother had it too. I'm really just a freak," he stated, then shrugged lightly.

At the word 'freak' Hitomi frowned again but quickly recovered, even smiling a bit after. Her fingers traveled down the side of his head where they threaded themselves into his hair again, disheveling it some more while he could only stare back.

Despite the smudged makeup, she still looked lovely. The dreamy expression on her face, although drug-induced showed him her gentle side again. He'd seen it before during their other encounters, along with the strong-willed side that wouldn't tolerate any nonsense- not even from a king.

He wasn't doing anything to her though, was he? He wasn't making her do this, or…? It was difficult to focus with her so close. Her cheeks were tinted a bit red by now, this hopefully because she was finally warming up under his jacket.

After drawing a shaky breath, Van swallowed heavily while tightening his hold on her shoulders, subconsciously hoping that it would make her aware of what she was doing. He really, really should stop her from touching him but the way her fingers caressed the side of his head and nape was distractingly lovely. Even more so when her second hand moved to his neck, dipping a bit into the space where the shirt's collar gaped open. It made a shiver trail down his spine.

Hitomi's face drew nearer even and Van backed away a bit in an attempt to keep them out of trouble. She was still close enough for him to feel her breath fanning across his face when she whispered, inching closer with every word, "they are so...so...so beautiful." Van's heart skipped a few beats when he saw her eyes falling shut as she drifted further toward him yet, her mouth brushing his, soft as a feather.

His own eyes crossed in shock despite the ample warning signs. He really should have seen it coming but had been too mesmerized to comprehend what she was up to. Or maybe he was full of shit and had been secretly hoping for it. Either way, he'd not fully realized just how much he was craving the feel of it.

Who could even blame him? Behind the title and responsibilities, he was still a guy with wants and needs. No matter how aloof he appeared on the outside in the role of the monarch- protector of his realm- he couldn't just shut off the craving. The craving felt by a very simple fraction of his brain. The one that wanted to immediately reciprocate what she was offering, hollering at him to pull her close, savor the moment, and see how far they could go.

Only, responsibilities would always take precedence over such a longing now that he was king, especially in a situation like this. Hitomi's warm, soft lips slowly moved against his, tasting of bitter gin, tonic, and lime. She was searching, desperate for something he realized he couldn't- no- shouldn't give her.

Van groaned when Hitomi's grip on him tightened fractionally. Under different circumstances, having her grab him like this, demanding him to respond to her kiss while pressing her slightly moist lips against his would certainly have been more persuasive. After all, she was really pretty and intriguing in several ways. However, knowing that she was doing all this under the influence of some drug made it feel all kinds of wrong.

Hating himself for having let it even come this far, the king tapped into hidden reservoirs of sheer will and pried her hands off his head. His gut twisted sickly when a small noise of surprise and protest escaped Hitomi's mouth after they parted. Carefully but deliberately, he pushed her back into the cushions and drew in a deep breath of sobering air but that hitched in his throat halfway when he heard all his names.

"Van Slanzar de Fanel, what on Gaea do you think you're doing?" Millerna hissed behind him while roughly pulling him to his feet and, for a lack of a more acceptable retribution, pinched his upper arm where she knew the large welt of a scar was.

"Ow! What the..! Millerna, I didn't do anything!" Van exclaimed in exasperation while running both hands through his disheveled hair, combing it back again.

"Yea, exactly!" Millerna poked his chest with an accusing finger while, with her free hand, gesticulated towards Hitomi. The woman in question was resting against the back of the couch, looking like she was going to fall asleep any moment. She didn't need to say anything else. Van's eyes darted back over to Hitomi, staring at her ruefully.

"I…," Van began to speak but a frustrated growl escaped his throat instead. His hands balled themselves into fists at his sides and pure anger washed over him. Anger for his own stupidity and for whoever was responsible for this mess in the first place. If he got his hands on whoever slipped her the drug, they'd pay.

"Hitomi!" A frantic voice heralded the approach of her redheaded friend. Van was glad to see her rush to Hitomi's side with only a quick side glance at him and Millerna in passing. It was good to know she had a friend nearby now. Two actually, when Allen's brother rounded the curtain with a few swift strides, followed by Allen, who kept a respectful distance but looked thoroughly concerned nonetheless. More concerned than he ought to have been.

"Hitomi, what happened to you?!" Yukari and Amano fretted while inspecting their friend only to find that she was physically unharmed. Yukari's shoulders slumped in relief when she realized that her friend was alright.

Meanwhile, Millerna and Van were arguing quietly for a minute before he stormed off, his face a mask of fury.

"Don't do anything rash, Van! You don't even know who did it!" Millerna tried to calm him down, the words barely audible over the music.

Yea she was right, but he was downright pissed when he stomped out from behind the secluded seating area, fuming and wishing he had his sword on him. He stomped aimlessly into the crowd, scanning it for anybody who looked even remotely guilty.

He was just about to explode when a small voice piped up beside him. "Excuse me, your highness," Celena's melodic but confident voice reached him through the boom of the bass.

"Van," Merle joined them. They seemed to have been dancing up until now, as far as Van could tell by his sister's labored breaths and loosened buns with strands of pink hair framing her face.

"Van," Merle repeated his name firmly to make sure he was listening. "Celena thinks she saw something. We just only heard from Allen what happened in passing."

That, of course, got his attention. "Tell me!" Van demanded.

"Well. There was this guy," Celena began. "He was sitting at the bar the whole time but now he's gone. He dropped some pill into a drink and then a waitress came and took it. I don't know where she went with it, though. Could be that she gave it to that lady."

"What did he look like?" Van asked, already mentally skinning a faceless guy alive with the razor-sharp, royal sword.

"Silver or white hair. Similar length as mine. Very pale and sort of rude," Celena described him and Van didn't need to hear anything else.

"Dilandau," Merle blurted out his thoughts, confirming it. "His looks are uncanny. Van," she immediately grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt, knowing him too well. "Don't do anything dumb."

Both Millerna and Merle were very aware that an enraged Van was nothing to be underestimated. As much as his sense of honor was his strongest virtue, it also became his biggest weakness when stretched too far, turning into stubbornness which translated to rash and thoughtless actions.

It was too late anyway. Dilandau was gone. His white hair would have been easily visible in the glow of the black light, even in a big crowd. Luckily, that wasn't a problem at all, Van thought. The dishonorable bastard would pay and he had a good idea about how already.

"Don't worry. I won't," Van promised. At least not tonight but nobody needed to know that.

The three then returned to the back area where everybody was still gathered around Hitomi. To Van's discontent, Allen was now hoisting a dead-to-the-world Hitomi into his arms. The king was a bit confused about the severity of his displeasure when seeing this. He stayed at the back of the group, jaw locked and arms crossed.

Millerna announced that Allen was instructed to make sure the three friends got home safely. "Allen, don't let go of her until you're inside their apartment. That's a firm order."

"Not to worry," Allen assured nobody in particular, donning an expression of chivalry. "My arms have and always will be the safest place on Gaea for any fair lady."

"Odd flex, but okay," Merle stated a bit dryly.

Allen, with Hitomi in his arms and flanked by Yukari and Amano made his way out of the club. As directed by Merle, they used the back door which the royal entourage had entered through earlier, so as not to draw attention.

After they were gone, Van snatched up his crumpled suit jacket from where it had been left on the couch. The garment created a puff of air when he roughly straightened it around his shoulders. For a brief moment, it smelled sweet. Sweet like her, which calmed him by a small measure before his blood began to boil anew.

Yeah. Dilandau, the cretin, was going to wish he never set foot into the Mystic Moon tonight. He'd regret it by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.

When Van was finished with the last button on his jacket, he was back in charge of his temper again, the façade of a pure in-control king. "Celena, would you and the rest of security please make sure the princesses get back to the palace? I need some time alone. Escaflowne is outside. He will escort me back."

Celena nodded confidently. "No problem."

Millerna shook her head slowly.

"I'm coming with you," the princess answered while indicating that she was ready to go and would accept no debate about the matter. It seemed like the incident had sobered everybody up quite firmly.

Van looked at her with a neutral expression and said, "fine." He knew that arguing with her was pointless.

Dilandau smirked mischievously while ambling through the narrow alleys of old town. One hand was tucked into a pocket while the other held his cellular phone. The screen glowed brightly as a video clip played. Although a bit blurry and filmed from a weird angle near the bathroom hallway, one could make out the king and a woman in an intimate encounter.

Sylphy had really hit the jackpot with her choice. Never in his wildest dreams had Dilandau thought he'd still be able to enjoy entertainment of this caliber tonight. As far as he was concerned, nobody was safe from this kind of fate, not even the king. Spreading chaos and disorder was were where Dilandau felt most at home- it was his own, personal mission and he didn't much care who was affected by it.

He was glad to have slipped out at the right moment. Although he wasn't afraid of the king, he wasn't up for dealing with the shit this all could stir up in diplomatic terms. Relations between Zaibach and Fanelia had never been great, even though they were connected by some of the longest-standing trade agreements in history. Despite decades of peace, everything between them was frosty, to say the least.

Escaflowne marched along behind Van and Millerna, down the cobblestoned pedestrian area of old town. He'd wisely remained fairly quiet as various groups had exited the club with his master and the Asturian princess returning last. Although usually never shy, the machine knew when a situation was too serious for his witty remarks.

Van's hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his suit jacket while frowning at the ground. Millerna floated next to him, refusing to be affected by the foul mood he was emanating. Neither of them had spoken a word since they left the club. Van was obviously deep in thought even though he had put up a good show of being unmoved towards the end.

Escaflowne continued to keep his distance, scanning the area for danger as they went. It was a quiet night otherwise and Millerna let her childhood friend fume in silence some more until they reached the elevators. The guards positioned there snapped to attention when the king neared and one of them pushed a finger to his earbud while speaking into the small mic by his uniform collar, giving his colleagues upstairs a heads up that the royals were approaching.

Escaflowne's frame was too large to fit inside the brightly-lit box so he had to climb the steps. Nothing new. Van leaned against the brushed metal walls on the inside while the doors slid shut, arms crossed and eyes closed.

"You like her don't you?" Millerna finally interrupted the companionable silence since they were finally alone.

Van opened his eyes but didn't respond, only frowning back at her.

Meanwhile, the elevator was ascending swiftly.

Ornery mule of a man.

Millerna jabbed the emergency stop and Van's eyes sprang open when the elevator came to a sudden halt.

"What the…," he unwound his arms and braced them on the railing on either side of him. Now it was Millerna's turn to cross her arms and regard him inquisitively. She couldn't help but permit one corner of her mouth to rise. Looks like that accusation finally got under the reserved king's skin. His unguarded, startled expression was all the confirmation she needed.

"She's smart and pretty," Millerna assessed while Van stood unmoving, eyes trained at the floor.

"What are you talking about?" Van responded in irritation.

Millerna rolled her eyes dramatically. "Van, you're usually stubborn about the right things but this isn't one of them."

"Your point being?"

"That you don't have to pretend like you're made out of stone all the time!" Millerna clapped her hands in front of his face to emphasize her point.

Oh if only she knew. If only she knew that he'd given up on that twice before already when making his excursions incognito. A third time really, tonight, when he'd been stupid enough to let a woman under the influence of a drug kiss him. He shouldn't be making mistakes like that.

Then, a voice came through the intercom by the control panel. "Majesties, is everything alright? The elevator seems to have come to a stop. This must have been a malfunction. We will have it going again in a minute."

Millerna pushed the button near the microphone to answer back, "yes, thank you. Everything is just fine."

Then she turned her attention back to Van. "I'm only dropping that issue for now because I want to give you this without anyone seeing it," she said while digging around her small purse. She produced a small thumb drive and Van accepted it with a curious look on his face.

"It's from a friend. He thinks it could help you access those recordings in Escaflowne's storage you've had issues with."

Van's eyebrows rose when he remembered. He'd been meddling with it for a bit since Escaflowne's activation but not being an expert with machines, he had limited options. Just to be on the safe side, this would remain his own little project for now. Who knew what he'd end up finding.

When Hitomi came to, she felt positively nauseous. Either she was on a ship or had traveled back in time to when she was a baby because whatever she was in, rocked her like a boat or a cradle. Everything inside her stomach curdled like sour milk and burned in her throat, trying to claw its way back up before something tickled her cheek and distracted her enough to swallow the lump. When she reached for her face, her hand came away with a bunch of soft, blonde hair- definitely not her own.

"Hitomi," Allen's smooth voice was very close and it took her a moment to gather why. It's because she was being carried by him. Even though she seemed to be sort of awake, now cracking her eyes open a bit, it was difficult to move. Even her hand felt funny as she let go of the man's hair and flexed her fingers. Whatever liquor she'd had at the end had hit her like a sledgehammer and for a while, she'd been so impaired she forgot how she even ended up in his arms.

She remembered dancing with Allen for a good while before they'd entered the VIP area. Then talking to Millerna with Van- oh gods- standing next to them. She remembered drinking something and the alcohol in it being stronger than anticipated. Starting then, everything became very misty. A bit of panic but mostly confusion was what she remembered. After being lost for a while, she'd been enveloped by something warm and it'd finally allowed her to relax and feel safe.

That's when all the worry went away and was replaced with something new, exciting. Her heart hammered against her ribcage when she tried to remember but the visuals in her memory were oh so blurry- her impaired mind not able to fathom the sensory overload then. That's when everything must have become too much and made her sink like a piece of lead into deep, dark waters. Had Allen found her and saved her from getting into trouble? It sure looked like it.

"Wha…t-hap…," she tried to ask but Allen silenced her with a tender glance.

"Shh, it's okay," he soothed her. "Somebody spiked your drink with a party drug but nothing happened to you. I'm making sure nothing happens to you," he explained. "There's nothing for you to worry about. You're safe with me and we're almost there."

He was right. Safe. She couldn't imagine anything bad happening to her when Allen was near. He was princess Millerna's personal bodyguard after all. Hitomi then recognized the awning of the small corner store as they passed by it and Yukari had already run ahead on the walkway to unlock the tall front door of the old building they lived in. She could hear it creak as it swung open while Allen strode down the short gravel path through the small garden in the front.

Feeling safe enough again, Hitomi gave up and let the exhaustion win over once more. She nestled her head against the side of his chest, inhaling his scent. He smelled like cologne, a bit of his own musk, and shampoo. Not entirely unpleasant but distinctly different from what would have made the foggy images in her mind clear up.

Tbc…

Or find more on FFN.

[gatesofember]

The Privilla: Chapter 3

PJO Arranged Marriage/Royalty AU Part 2

Rating: G | Pairing: Solangelo

Prev | Next | AU directory | Read it on AO3 (Recommended) | Arranged Marriage AU Masterpage

Summary: Almost ten years after their first introduction, Will and Prince Nico meet again. But this time, they are no longer children. Will, the illegitimate third son of Duke Apollo, has had a few prospective suitors, but none of the offers have been as lucrative as his family has hoped. Prince Nico has had his fair share of suitors, as well; with the pressure of being heir to the throne of a kingdom in economic turmoil, Nico is expected to marry for profit and security. However, his icy personality has driven many impatient suitors away. The two young men may prove to be exactly what the other needs.

“I do not believe this one will be as terrible as you fear,” Reyna said from the other side of the privacy screen.  “Her Divinity arranged it.  She would not send you an unlikable suitor.”

That is because I am the unlikable one, Nico thought as he raised his chin so that his manservant, Jules-Albert, could tie his jabot.

Nico had agreed to this meeting despite his reluctance mostly because it was Artemis who had asked.  They’d had their disagreements in the past, but Nico trusted her and had no desire to disappoint her.

“My father has spoken to me of the meeting with your nephew,” Nico recalled saying over a game of Acies before Artemis left Divitia.  “I must ask if you are aware of my current record as a suitor, Your Divinity.  Previous meetings have not gone well and should this meeting go awry....”

Artemis had smiled encouragingly.  “Worry not, Your Highness.  It will not affect our relationship.”

“But you are willing to offer your nephew as a suitor despite my...my....”

“Your Highness, I have known you since you wore children’s gowns.  You and my nephew are both fine young men.  If the meeting does not go as hoped, you will part amicably.  I have faith in you, Your Highness.”

Nico had not felt reassured.  “I do not want you to hope too much, Your Divinity.  I would hate to disappoint you.  If your nephew were to be unhappy with me–”

“Nico,” Artemis had said plainly, disposing of the pleasantries.  Nico was alarmed by the sudden change in address, but he did not take offense.  “You will not disappoint me.  You are as dear to me as kin.  My nephew is a patient, kind-hearted man and I believe you will enjoy his friendship, but if I am wrong, then I will leave it be.  In any case, you have already met him.”

“Have I?” Nico had asked with a frown, trying to remember.  “I do not recall.”

“You were but six years of age,” Artemis had answered.  “It was the evening of my inauguration.  I made the introductions and you became friends in an instant.”

Nico had stared at the figurines on the board in thought, but he had been unable to recall.  “I apologize.  I do not remember.”

“That does not matter,” Artemis had said.  “You were friends then and I believe you can be now.”

Nico had avoided Artemis’ eyes.  If he’d met her nephew at the Sororal Inauguration, Bianca would have still been alive.  It had been before he lost her, before those lonely, nightmarish years on the countryside....

“There have been many changes since then,” he’d replied.

“Yes,” Artemis had agreed.  “But, perhaps, not too many.”

Nico shook away his thoughts as Jules-Albert brushed off his coat and breeches.  “He is expected to arrive late this morning, correct?” he asked.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Reyna answered.  “He will be here in time for the mid-day meal.”

“And my father and I will entertain Her Divinity and Lord William outside in the cypress grove?”

“That is correct.  The Queen and the Princess will take their meal in the Queen’s antechamber today to leave the four of you to your discussions.  Following that, you will invite Lord William for a walk in the Queen’s garden.”

Nico sighed and nodded as he stepped out from behind the partition and went to sit on the lounge chair at the foot of his bed.  Jules-Albert offered Nico a pair of shoes, and when Nico nodded his assent, he knelt to put them on Nico’s feet.

“And you will offer him your arm,” Reyna said.  “You will smile at him.  You will be polite.”

Nico squashed his desire to retort and merely nodded.  This time, he would play the role of a good suitor – at least for the Matestra.  Besides, he needed to find a husband, and he hoped that this attempt wouldn’t be as disastrous as the others.  “And then my father and I will remain with them in the Privilla for the three days of their stay?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Reyna confirmed.

Nico was glad.  The grounds of the royal palace contained many estates like the Privilla built by generations of Pluton sovereign.  Although Nico had stayed in many of them in his childhood, the royal family had mostly remained within the main residence, the Palatium de Divitae, since the Scarlet Delirium and the downfall of Pluto’s once-wealthy economy.  While the Palatium de Divitae and its surrounding estates had once housed many nobles, the fashionable days of the Pluton court had passed and the palace now was home to only the royal family and a select group of courtiers.  Nico barely remembered his once-opulent lifestyle; he had been so young when he’d been sent to live on the countryside during the worst parts of the contagion’s rampage.  Still, he enjoyed the occasional excuses the royal family found to indulge in the lavish pleasantries that used to define the court.

When Jules-Albert finished polishing Nico’s shoes, Nico rose to his feet and nodded to Reyna.  “I assume the estate has been prepared?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“And the necessary items from my wardrobe?”

“Taken care of, Your Highness.”

“And Asterion?”

“He will be at the Privilla, Your Highness.”

“Good.”  Nico left the bedroom for the drawing room next door.  Hazel’s room also connected to the drawing room, and they had a series of studies that they used for various purposes, like Hazel’s artwork or Nico’s Acies board.  Hazel, upon Nico’s inspection of the chambers, appeared to be in her painting room.  Although they hadn’t always gotten along, Nico was fond of his little sister.  She turned and called out a good morning to him when she heard him leave his bedroom, and Nico greeted her in return.  At only eight years of age, she was already a fine painter.  She had gifted several of her works to Nico and he had them hung in his bedroom or studies.

“Tell me about the Matestra’s nephew again, Lady Reyna,” Nico said as he sat down in the drawing room.

“He is a consor,” Reyna began, taking a seat when Nico gestured for her to do so.  “He has been studying in Venadica since he was Hazel’s age, perhaps younger.  He is your age now, and is the third child of Duke Apollo of Diana – illegitimate.  His mother was a singer and Apollo’s mistress for a time.”

Nico chose not to dwell on the topic of Will’s illegitimacy.  It was not uncommon for nobles in Jupiter or Neptune to have lovers aside from their spouses, but such things were considered unacceptable in Pluto.  The thought made Nico feel uncomfortable, even though Nico was illegitimate himself.  The nature of his birth was very secret; not even Hazel knew, nor had Bianca.  Nico shouldn’t have known.

“Have you met him?” Nico asked.  As a soror, Reyna had been trained in Venadica, as well.

“I have,” Reyna replied.  “Only once or twice and it has been a very long time, but I do recall that he was pleasant company.  In any case, he has studied medicine under Asclepius himself and he practices when he returns to Diana in the winter.  He has had no serious suitors as of yet, but his family has been searching.  And he is extremely wealthy.”

Nico nodded.  A wealthy husband was, in all honesty, exactly what he needed.  He’d even tried courting the son of a wealthy merchant, despite his lack of a title – of course, that arrangement had fallen through quickly.  The boy had been completely unrefined, so Nico sent him on his way.  Nico probably could have done so more politely, but what was done was done.

“What topics of conversation do you recommend?” Nico asked, for conversation was not something he had any remarkable skill in.  He was receiving oratory lessons from Reyna, so he wasn’t as miserable as he once had been, but he still lacked some basic understanding of one-on-one communication.

“You might ask about his family or his studies.  It is most important, Your Highness, that you are responsive when he speaks to you.  You have an unfortunate habit of acting uninterested and indifferent around potential suitors, but in this case, you must remember to be more companionable.”

Nico heard Hazel giggle in her painting room, and, although he was irritated, he ignored her.  “I will behave cordially,” he muttered.  Reyna was not uncomfortable scolding Nico; she could be quite harsh with him.  Still, he considered Reyna trustworthy, and perhaps even a good friend.

Nico spent most of the morning pacing while Hazel painted in her studio and Reyna read in the drawing room.  He picked at the cold cuts Jules-Albert brought for their meal and drank a few sips of tea, but his unease persisted.  He hated being introduced to suitors, mainly because he knew he’d fail before they even arrived.  Nico wasn’t easy to like.  He wasn’t even tolerable enough to be someone’s husband.

“Your Highness,” Reyna said, causing Nico to jolt in surprise.  “Pacing will accomplish little more than wear in the flooring.”

“Then what do you suggest I do with my restlessness, Lady Reyna?” Nico snapped.  Reyna raised an eyebrow at his tone, which only served to irritate Nico further.  He huffed and stormed over to sit across from his adviser.  “How much longer do I have to wait?”

“Not long,” Reyna replied, setting her book aside to give Nico her attention.  “I suspect we will be called to greet them soon.”

Nico rubbed his palms on his breeches and asked, “Do you think this coat will do?”

“It is a very fine coat, Your Highness.”

“Good,” Nico mumbled.  “It’s not too plain?”

Reyna sighed.  “Your Highness, the trim is silver with sapphires.  I do not think it is plain.”

“I don’t want him to know exactly how desperate my family is for his dowry,” Nico said defensively.  “You will stay with me, correct?”

“I will be present, should you need me.”

“And you won’t leave me alone with him?”

Reyna looked at Nico disapprovingly.  “I will remain an appropriate distance away from you and Lord William.”

“But what if I–”

“If you are to marry him, you must be able to hold a conversation with him in private.”

Nico let out a breath of disappointment.  “This will go horribly,” he muttered.

“Your Highness, all you are required to do is be polite.  Smile at him, nod, and answer his questions.  And I beg you, do not tell him that he has the face of a toad.”

“I only did that once, and he highly exaggerated my phrasing,” Nico scowled.  “Besides, he did look like a toad.”

Reyna gave him a stern look.  “And if Lord William looks like a toad, what will you do?”

“I will not call him a toad,” Nico answered begrudgingly.  “Unless, of course, the similarities are remarkable, then I do not think it would be out of place to–”

“Your Highness,” Reyna cut in sharply.  “Sometimes, I almost believe that you purposely sabotage your meetings with potential suitors.  You will not make fun of Lord William’s face, or his voice, or his laugh, or his personality, or his intelligence, or any peculiar gestures that he might have the habit of making.”

Nico crossed his arms irritably.  “Very well, then; I simply won’t speak at all.”

“If that is what you must do, then so be it,” Reyna snapped back.  That said, she picked back up her book and started to read again, making it clear that she no longer had any interest in speaking to Nico.  Nico knew he ought to reprimand her for using such a tone, but he didn’t feel up to it.  Reyna was right, as usual.

It wasn’t long after that they were summoned to the Hall of Gold to greet their visitors.  The hall was a large, open area at the front of the palace that opened to the city outside.  Nico recalled balls being held there when he was younger and the court was wealthy and fashionable.  Although the room was still magnificent, it had fallen into disuse over the years.

Nico’s parents, King Hades and his Queen Consort, Persephone, along with his younger sister were present as the Matestra’s carriage arrived outside the palace.  The doors to the Hall of Gold were held open and the royal family stood at the entrance, watching as the guests exited the carriage.  

The Matestra came first.  Artemis was followed by the captain of her guard, Lady Thalia, and her aide, Lady Hestia.  Nico had seen Lady Thalia during the Matestra’s last visit, but he had not spoken to her.  He tried to avoid conversation with Thalia whenever possible; she made him think of Bianca too much.  Lady Hestia, however, Nico was fond of.  They had known each other a long time, even before she was hired as Artemis’ aide.  Hestia was always calm and polite, and something about her always made Nico feel soothed.  He hoped he would get the chance to talk to her while she was there; she had not been with the Matestra on her previous visit.

And then Lord William exited the carriage.

Nico did not remember the first time he had met Lord William, so he only was able to predict his appearance based on what he had been told by Reyna and Artemis.  He had known that his suitor would be blond and tan-skinned with blue eyes and have an average height and build.  As William approached with his aunt, Nico was glad to see that he did not look like a toad, but beyond that, Nico saw nothing noteworthy about him.  He had nice features without being irresistibly handsome, which Nico supposed was a good thing; if William had been too handsome, Nico was not sure that he would ever be able to look his suitor in the face without making a fool of himself.  William was not unpleasant to look at, however, and Nico found himself pleased with his appearance.

Pleasantries were exchanged when Artemis and William reached them, but Nico paid them little heed, instead examining William with interest, as though he might be able to discern more from his character by the intensity of his gaze.  Will looked back at him and smiled, which Nico supposed was nice, before lowering his eyes meekly.

Nico was snapped into paying attention when Will bowed to him and said, “It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness,” having apparently been introduced.

“You as well,” Nico said, and even though he tried to put an air of friendliness into his voice, his tone remained flat.

When Hades led the guests into the Hall of Gold, Nico fell in step beside William and examined him from the corner of his eye.  He had a good, strong posture, which Nico supposed he approved of, and his gait was acceptable.  His coat was nice, too; pale blue with gold embroidery and very fine buttons.  It was obviously well-made and expensive – a testament to his family’s wealth.  William’s hair was tied back, but rather untamed, which Nico supposed was excusable.

After directing Artemis’ servants to the Privilla, Hades, Artemis, Nico, and Will took their lunch outside in the cypress grove – a meal of venison and fruit from Persephone’s orchards.  Nico allowed Artemis and his father to control the conversation, instead busying himself with scrutinizing Will’s dining etiquette.  It was passable; he was obviously well-educated on the matter.  When Artemis asked him a question, Nico realized that he had been paying his suitor far too much attention and turned to focus on the conversation and the meal.

Nico felt something stroke up his ankle and he almost jolted in surprise.  He managed to keep his composure and fought the urge to peer under the table.  When it happened again, though, he looked up at Will, who was sitting across from him, and realized that the thing hitting his ankle was most definitely the toe of a shoe.  Will, however, made no movement to suggest he’d done it on purpose, so Nico let it slide.  Surely it had only been a mistake.  Will wasn’t trying to....

But Nico felt the shoe on his ankle again.  That time, when he looked up, Will offered a shy, guilty smile.  Nico didn’t smile back, so Will looked away again, his expression crestfallen.

Had he given Will the impression that he disliked it?  Nico always had trouble with suitors, in part because he was never able to seem friendly.  But this particular meeting was important; Artemis herself had arranged it and Will’s family’s wealth could prove invaluable to Nico.  Had he scared Will off?  Nico had only been surprised.  Will seemed like a pleasant young man.  Nico didn’t want to ruin their first meeting by being unfriendly as he had with so many of his previous suitors.  He hoped Will would look back so that he could try to smile for him.

When Will didn’t, Nico impulsively stuck out his foot and ran his toe over Will’s ankle just as Will had done to him.  Will looked at him, surprise written plainly across his face, and Nico smiled nervously.  Will smiled back.

When the meal was over, Nico had forgotten about his directions to invite Will for a walk until he heard Reyna, who was standing to the side of the grove with the servants, clear her throat loudly.  Nico reluctantly rose to his feet and looked at William, and although he tried to appear friendly, he was sure his face was as cold as usual.  “Lord William,” he said, keeping his nervousness carefully hidden.  “I wonder if you would join me for a walk in the gardens.”

“I would be honored, Your Highness,” William said, standing up from his chair.

Nico started to lead him towards the gardens when Reyna cleared her throat again and Nico turned his head to look at her.  She discreetly patted her elbow as a reminder for Nico to offer Will his arm.  Nico gave her a petulant look, having hoped that she’d forgotten about that bit, but Reyna merely patted her elbow with more force and frowned at him sternly.  Nico nodded sulkily, having absolutely no desire to engage in any kind of physical contact.  Nico did not like to touch and he did not like to be touched.  It was, he supposed, one of the many things that made him such an undesirable suitor.

Nico swallowed his discomfort and was about to hold out his arm, but when he turned to William, he found that William had already offered his.  He hesitated in surprise for a moment before taking it, but stayed a respectable distance away as he walked William towards the gardens.

William cleared his throat, which irritated Nico, who had heard enough cleared throats for one day.  “These gardens, as I understand, are designed by Her Majesty?” he asked.

“Oh...uh...yes,” Nico stumbled, unprepared to speak just yet.  “My mother takes pride in the grounds of the palace.  She made it her project when she married my father.”  Nico internally applauded himself for his quick answer, but soon after, it became silent between them again.  He led Will through the flowers in silence, his eyes darting around in the hopes that something might jump out and distract William from Nico’s awkwardness and discomfort.  His hand felt sweaty on Will’s elbow and Nico wanted to take it back, but he resisted.  

“The grounds are quite beautiful,” William said suddenly.  “My compliments to Her Majesty.”

“Thank you,” Nico answered.  “She loves to hear that her gardens are enjoyed.”  After a moment’s hesitation, he added, “You will see the gardens around the Privilla tomorrow.  They are quite beautiful there, as well.  Do you like gardens?”

“I do, Your Highness,” Will answered.  “The grounds at my father’s estate are lovely.  I enjoy reading there when the weather is nice.”

“Then you like to read?”

“Oh, yes.  Mostly I read for my studies, but I read for amusement, as well.”

“Tell me about your studies,” Nico said, recalling that Will was a consor studying medicine.  He could likely talk about his schooling for hours, and then Nico would not have to speak for quite a while.

“I am currently doing research on plant cells for the purpose of utilizing their medical properties,” Will said.  “I find it quite interesting, but my brothers and sister tell me that it is boring.  When I first started, I considered becoming a tutor and my studies were in a more general field, and then I decided that I would rather heal.  I have been a consor since I was seven; not long after I first met you, Your Highness.”  William suddenly faltered.  “I...I mean, since my aunt’s inauguration.  We were introduced.”

“I have been told,” Nico said.  “You must forgive me; I have no memory of the meeting, but I have heard about it.”

William looked disappointed for a moment, but then he smiled.  “It was long ago, Your Highness.  Although it is a happy memory for me.”

Nico opened his mouth to speak, then promptly shut it and turned his head to face forward, focusing on the stone path and white flowers in front of them rather than on his confusion.  He wasn’t sure how it could be such a happy memory for William.  Perhaps he was referring to the inauguration itself rather than his meeting with Nico.  That seemed more sensible.  Of course the memory of his aunt becoming the Matestra was important for him.

Another silence fell between them, but this time, Nico was less desperate to fill it.  He didn’t mind the silence; he only hoped that William didn’t mind it, either.  William, however, proved difficult to read.  He smiled at Nico whenever Nico turned to look at him, which Nico didn’t quite understand.  Why would he smile so much?

At least, Nico thought, the meeting was not off to a disastrous start.  William was polite.  He didn’t seem to be fed up with Nico yet.  Perhaps if Nico could keep himself from being too horrible a suitor, he would be tolerable enough for William to marry, and then when William tired of him, it wouldn’t matter anymore.

Next

[scaredycat113]

Line Simulator VR

Oh, Line Simulator. Where to begin with you...

This project came along at a very stressful time. I was in the middle of writing Rise Eterna, finishing up my masters, and starting a full time job to keep the lights on. Since my schedule was so busy, I almost passed this one up.

But I'm SO glad I didn't.

I first met with Helio, the Lead Game Designer, in late August. I was skeptical going in, mainly because of my schedule, but also because I was starting to doubt if I could really handle another big project. I took it on anyway despite my reservations and it worked out better than I could have imagined.

The team is amazing and really helped me grow as a writer. They handed me their ideas and I was able to turn them into something entertaining and interesting. My favorite part about the team was our team calls. Helio, Lidia (lead artist), and I would hop and and just talk about how we felt things were going. What worked, what didn't, where we can improve, and where we want all this to go. The game ended up taking a drastic left turn (fueled by many late nights and Helio's stress induced delirium), which allowed us to bring our wacky ideas to fruition.

We struggled a lot with this game, not because of the game itself, but the timeline. We were extremely pressed for time and had to push this game out in about three months. The time constraints challenged me to push out quality content on harsh deadlines which was an extremely rewarding experience.

During this project I was able to take on a few new roles as well which was an interesting experience. I was in charge of recruiting voice talent and assigning lines which was awesome because I got to hand pick how the words I wrote would sound to the player. The voice actors were absolute peaches to work with and I'm so grateful to them for making my words come to life. This project was a true collaborative effort and I really felt like part of the team, not just a writer. I was able to help Helio and Lidia flesh out some of their story ideas and write content that guided the player to our end goal. I was also able to include some of my own wacky ideas like a couple of weird side quests which I'm so excited to see in game.

So I'm a Narrative Designer. It's a little sureal when I write it out, but I'm here.

Mama, I made it.

Here's to the launch of Line Sim VR and my debut as a Narrative Designer. I hope you all enjoy it and please reach out to me with any feedback, I'm always looking to improve.

Go give it a playthrough when it drops on November 15th. Keep and open mind and buckle up. S**t gets weird.

Write on,

Allie

[elizabethrobertajones]

(Hello again) I was indeed the anon that made you write that looong post :D was so amazed by your attention to detail (which is why I asked about Cas' trenchie) And thank you for the masterpost, I already read half of it on my way to school :D How long have you been watching Supernatural if you don't mind me asking? (It seems like you have got the privilege to have watched season 7 whilst it was happening?)

Hi again! :D And wow that must be a long commute to school… Glad I can entertain you ;)

I first watched Supernatural back in 2008 and my friends had season 1 & 2 on DVD. I remember them getting season 3 and us watching it all together and this would still be in 2008-9 range, but to me it was a show that got cancelled because of the writers’ strike, got basically no attention in this country, and I’d probably have never heard of it again except that one of those friends was commenting in 2010 or 11 about the show and I realised they were talking about an episode I hadn’t *seen* (Hammer of the Gods, if you’re wondering :P) and it was like WHAT. THE SHOW DIDN’T END ON DEAN GOING TO HELL? So I watched ALL of it in like a few days and had my entire world shaken because the latest episode when I was done watching… was The Man Who Would Be King. 

(But then I was watching that in the beginning of my Extended Feverish Delirium of 2010-12 and have no memory of watching season 7, 8 or the first part of 9 as it aired except for the fact that it was one of my shows, I was watching HIMYM religiously on the same website, and I was checking all of my shows there whenever I was bored so I clearly *did* watch it and when I did my rewatch in season 9 I remembered random fragments of episodes… Basically it is a terrible idea to live off ibuprofen and cola for 3 years, don’t do it >.> The last episode I remember watching is 9x05 so I suspect the weird dog episode of season 9 just totally killed my buzz to go back and check for new episodes, which is awful because 9x06 is one of my favourite episodes and probably would have hauled me in to watch all of season 9… I only belatedly remembered months later and re-watched and found 9x18 was the latest episode and I was coming back to myself a bit more and I had a new job and I was trying to get my life back on track and recover from the latest nonsense setback in my life (I managed to maim myself on the job and needed surgery and spent ANOTHER year incapacitated taking painkillers and unable to do anything >.>)) 

So yeah it’s a complicated answer but I genuinely do not have real first impressions of anything between 7x01-9x05 because I don’t remember watching them even though I did :S 

[planetwalker]

Reflections on 6 years of sobriety

Today, May 18th, I officially have not had a drop of alcohol in my system for six years. It has been a long road, and without the support of my family, my friends, and my therapist I would likely be dead or in prison. More that likely, dead. Also, I would like to thank a doctor I knew personally (she shall remain nameless) who risked her professional career by prescribing me medicine to keep me from going into seizures when I quit drinking the first time at twenty (for a year and a half), because of my refusal to go to rehab or do it any other way than in my house, alone. I woke myself up with an alarm every four hours for over ten days to manually check my own blood pressure and administer the medicine that would keep me alive and not convulsing, seizing, or having delirium tremens. It wasn't pretty.

My alcoholism had taken me to a depth of insanity that ended in me finally drinking nearly a 1.5 liter bottle of hard liquor a day, plus beer to wash it down. That's when your tolerance has beaten you so far into the ground that you pretty much just wake up and begin drinking again. There's just not enough time in the day to drink that much otherwise. That is no exaggeration. From about 10am until 5am the next morning, I would drink whiskey in a nearly constant way. There would often only be a half-inch of the largest bottles of liquor they sell left in my freezer by morning. A hair of the dog that bit me, which would get me to the liquor store for a fresh new dog. I think I spent about 25 dollars a day on booze for those 5 last (and worst) years after my initial relapse. That's about 45,000 dollars, more than triple what I have ever made in a year of my working life.

On this sixth anniversary of sobriety though, I'm not really reflecting on my accomplishments in the past, but I'm using it as an opportunity to talk about something far more deadly and much more hard for me to deal with, or speak about. I have to begin at the beginning, but every word of this is difficult to write, I will try my best to speak openly and honestly.

After many years of denial, after being psychologically tested at fourteen years old and severely misdiagnosed and mismedicated, put on lithium, and poisoned to a point of amnesia. After a week in a psychiatric hospital at twenty due to suicidal ideation, and after eleven more years of waiting (including these six sober years), I finally went to a psychiatrist to get a full mental health assessment, at the behest of my family. A multitude of tests, by the most progressive and up to date standards were administered by an expert clinician. I waited to hear the conclusion I pretty much have known my whole life was coming: I have Bipolar II, without a shadow of a doubt, and on the nose.

The good news: I have rote number memorization in the 99th percentile, as well as a smattering of other high-functioning brain abilities that I cannot take any real credit for. I just know how to memorize and remember things in a way that seems insane to most people. I can recite texts I read when I was ten forwards and backwards. I once made a rap out of the alphabet being recited backwards. I remember memorizing decks of randomized playing cards as a kid, just for fun, to see if I could name the last card in the deck. I found out many years later after requesting my transcripts that my IQ had been tested at fourteen as well during those psych exams and largely said the same thing, I was in the 99.975 percentile, something like 151. Unfortunately then, their only concern was me being able to "sit down and listen in school", which I found to be impossible, boring, and frustrating to the point that acting out was my only recourse. I remember refusing to say the pledge of allegiance in the 4th grade after reading a book on my own about the genocide of American Indians, and the horrors of slavery instituted by the very same people who wrote these documents. I was a little shit, too smart for my own good, and I needed to be controlled.

I was expelled from school in the 6th grade for printing out "The Devil's Cookbook" (essentially a bomb making guide, and anarchist literature), from the schools library, hundreds of pages. I went to a "democratic school" run by hippies for the rest of the year where I mostly skateboarded and flirted with girls. I spent 7th grade with my father living in South Africa, and was quickly shuffled out of middle school after arriving back halfway through 8th grade. They couldn't wait to get rid of me. My one saving grace was my music teacher named Ken Johnson, who always let me stay late after school and practice guitar, piano, singing. I don't think I could have finished that year without his support, he turned me on to great music I never would have heard. Mostly, he just got that was talented and interesting, and not just a little shit. That pretty much ended my formal education. I read manuals and textbooks in my spare time and proceeded to get my GED at 15 and tested again to receive a stamped and signed high school diploma (with honors!) from the Rockville Board of Education (the same document all my fellow graduating seniors would get at 18, after wandering the halls for four years of the hellhole I abandoned). I still think skipping high school was the smartest decision I ever made in my life. I have never met anyone who says they learned almost anything in high school except "I still have friends that I know on Facebook", which really says a lot. I was accepted into The Evergreen State College two days before my sixteenth birthday. I had not filled out the small line that asked for age on the application, and apparently nobody noticed. I flew across the country to Olympia, Washington that spring and began my studies in creative writing, ecology, and a self-created major with my friend Sky Cosby: "Liberating the voices of incarcerated youth", which we had a brilliant and very optimistic professor graciously sign off on. We called it "Celldom Heard". We threw a great hip-hop showcase in Red Square that year, as well as producing a DIY chapbook of prisoner literature. My drinking career also really took off at this time, as I was a seventeen year old on a college campus thousands of miles away from home. My gambling too, playing poker anywhere I could, often at seedy clubs and online with a pre-paid debit card, as well as hosting poker tournaments with everyone I knew and could convince to lose their money to me. I could do anything I wanted. I never lied about my age, but simply refused to tell anyone for quite a long time. Age is just a number, right? Says any self-righteous seventeen year old.

My grandiosity surely impressed people; I have been a performer since as long as I can remember (my mother always jokes that I was ready to go entertain people since I left the womb). A magician at five, playing piano and performing music by ten; writing, slamming poetry at the national championships at fifteen, it never stopped. I was in the center of the room, and I thought that meant something, not just that I was an egomaniac, sure to be on the cover of Rolling Stone by the time I was twenty-one. My parents couldn't understand why I could never get up for school, they didn't know till years later that I would put a towel under my door to block the light and stay up all night reading and writing, until about 5:30, where I would sleep for thirty minutes before my father came down the hall to wake me up for the bus. I don't know how I survived. Years pass; trying to drink my hypomania away, trying, jamming alcohol down my throat followed by NyQuil, Ambien, Benedryl, all to try to just get to sleep, that one unattainable goal I could never quite reach. At some point my dreams just disappeared into darkness. As the years progressed further, some of the darker sides of hypomania began to present themselves; impulsive spending, reckless gambling, strings of unhealthy sexual relationships, all of which were doomed to failure from the start. Anger, rage, darkness, depression, and finally, the scariest points of this last year of my life: Mixed-Episodes.

In the past year and a half, I have had to experiment with a regimen of drugs until finally finding the right dosage and medicine to help me live a functional life. And as much as people can be proud of you for conquering alcohol, it's a much harder beast to speak out about your mental illness. I remember once going on a date, and the first thing my date started talking about was her "crazy bipolar ex-boyfriend", he was an "alcoholic too, so I'm so glad you don't drink". What to even say? I'm a fucking mess, girl, you don't want to get anywhere near me, trust me. And what to do? Deny, deflect, and continue to function (sobriety will buy you a lot of time in doing this, as you can use it as an excuse that you've gotten help and are doing fine). Hypomania, actually also keeps you functioning at such a high level. I have been able to operate on about 4-5 hours of sleep for as long as I can remember. I produce music all night in my solitary zen wonderland, read about 3-4 non-fiction books a week, about topics from psychophysiology to economics to super-string theory. Memoirs about drug abuse to politics to mountain climbing. Anything I could get my hands on. People wondered at work out loud often to me "where do you find the time?!". My response was always the same: I am awake and doing things when you are asleep. My hours of extra work were from 10pm-5am. That's seven hours of intense, single-minded focus that hypomania can provide you with, and it is a very very hard thing to want to give up, especially if your depressive spells are severe, but not all that frequent.

This went on for years. I traveled the world, studied all manners of healing and spirituality, motorcycling through the dirty terrain of Cambodia at night, swerving around cattle barely visible until hitting the glint of my low-beams, yards ahead. Being chased by wild dogs on a night I was sure I was going to die and be ripped to pieces. Nothing could stop me. Ever. I was a star exploding at light speed through the galaxy, burning as bright as anything you had ever seen, but sure to collapse upon it's own weight and gravity eventually. I paid this no mind, as I had decided at about twelve that I was sure I would never make it to my 30th birthday alive. I didn't really want to. I wanted to live, hard, fast, intense, non-stop, now. I came pretty close to making that pact a reality. I'm only 31 now, but this year I finally made strides to comprehend and look deeply at who I am and what is happening to me, and what factors are chemical imbalances in my brain, rather that just my insane hyperactivity. I had never even thought to blame anyone but myself. Or thank anyone but myself. My choices were my fault. Everyone else's judgements about me were right, but fuck them, I didn't care, I'll move on to someone else who sees the good parts with the darkness hidden.

The mixed episodes began, and got worse quickly. This is where you have the intensity of the hypomania mixed with the self-hatred of the deepest and darkest depression you have ever felt. Suddenly all that energy I had to conquer the world was turned inwards into a pattern of suicidal ideation, agoraphobia, blowups with close friends, despising my family, hanging up on my father after screaming matches, all of it, more. So much more I can't even write it all down. It was the hardest time of my life, a thousand times harder than my worst days of drinking, without a doubt. At least then I had something to numb out the pain, something to try and quell the manic thoughts and get some sleep. I always used to say "drinking *is* a coping skill, it's just not a healthy one." It's true. Now, instead, I had hypersomnia, sleeping 14 hours a day, unable to get out of bed, whole weeks where I never left my house, fear of everything outside. I was so scared I bought a gun. Then I was scared that I had a gun in my house. Worried I might shoot myself, or worse, mistake some passerby as a burglar and shoot some innocent stranger. Afraid and anxious about the outside world, uncontrollable sobbing for hours at a time, the inability to pull myself out of it for more than 20 minutes before collapsing back into the despair and pain I can't describe as anything short of brutal psychological torture.

The first doctor I saw in New Orleans (who I later found out accepted thousands of dollars from big pharma, of course) told me outright that he didn't care about the tests, he was sure I had Bipolar I, which is much scarier and involves hallucinations, delusional thinking (I am Barack Obama, people are out to get me, etc.), psychosis, and far worse symptoms. He prescribed me tranquilizers that nearly killed me in the following three months. My depression worsened. He suggested I up my dosage. I declined. I am very fortunate and lucky that he was wrong about me having Bipolar I, and that I have the lesser of these two evils, and I never forget that.

That didn't matter though: my agoraphobia worsened to the point that I couldn't get into my car, could barely make it to my porch to check my mail. I didn't go grocery shopping for three months and ate chinese food ever night. Agoraphobia, means literally "fear of the public square", and comes from our (very smart) reptile brains that were afraid of the open savannah. This is because birds of prey could see us from above and pick us off while exposed without a tree to hide beneath. It is a very primal instinct, and hard to counteract. My anxiety attacks got worse and worse, the medication wasn't helping, it was making things worse, but I continued to swallow them down, convinced I was just adjusting. I was not.

My parents finally begged me to come home to Connecticut and see a doctor who was a specialist with Bipolar males of my age, and after months of fighting them off, I reluctantly agreed. And he likely saved my life. He took my off the tranquilizer immediately, and I began to experience emotions again. Not great ones, but at least something. And then I was put on Lamictal, the only Bipolar medication that has been approved for Bipolar II and come on the market since Lithium did in 1948. Lithium is the aforementioned drug that I refused to ever try again, after I was put on it at fourteen, and which cost me a year of my life I can barely recall but for hazy half-memories, lost in a sea of white noise. And to the gracious angels, goddesses, or simply to the smart psychiatrists diagnosing me correctly and providing me with a plan of action including proper medication and therapy, have saved my life.

I cook dinner every night. I went to the grocery store the other day, then the bank, then the post office. I didn't even mind. It felt kind of great. I always ask how people are doing, a habit I've always done. It's amazing how the little things can go such a long way. When I call Cox to complain that my internet has gone out again, I always start with "Hey, my name is Sam Dillon, how are you doing today?". The other night I was met with "No one has asked me that in a week". Try it, it's pretty fun. Sometimes a grocery store clerk will literally break down in tears and tell you about her bad day. That happened not to long ago too. I still go to sleep late still, up reading books, but when I'm ready to fall asleep, I drift off into the odd and vivid dreams I remember having since I was a child, the same ones that disappeared for more than a decade. I am on the path to recovery, not there yet, and as with my alcoholism, I take small steps and don't get ahead of myself.

I was born with a strange chemical imbalance, not much different that someone with diabetes or anemia or Crohn's disease or autism. The large difference is the stigma. When you are an impulsive, grandiose, gambling, alcoholic maniac, nobody gives you much slack that you can't just "get your life together", "fix your problems", or simply "stop acting this way". There is no discussion of treatment (other than AA, a religious doctrine started by holocaust-deniers, sorry AA folks), not much in the way of offering help, a lot of blame and a small amount of empathy. You can only burn so many bridges before people don't want to come near you. And I've burned a lot. Lost of a lot of good friends. Sometimes I'm amazed that most of my family still even talks to me. Some of them barely do. I understand. I empathize. I get it. I know why, even though I know they also just don't understand what I have been struggling with my whole life and simply blame me and say I "always play the victim".

I have not been easy to deal with for many, many years. Even in sobriety I have been a raging asshole to deal with at times. At the height of my hypomanic episodes I have been explosive, unpredictable, and stubborn beyond belief. Impossible to deal with. I have always been this way, in a sense, and for many years, it served me. I skipped high school completely, choosing to get my education through books, following politics and world affairs, listening to everything around me, absorbing knowledge and skills like a sponge, learning from the world and by trial and (a lot of) error. When I made a decision, there was no challenging me or changing my mind. I followed my gut to the ends of the earth and back. Nobody could have stopped me, though many tried.

So on this day I celebrate six years since I touched a drop of alcohol, I guess I would like to begin not by celebrating at all, but by admitting what I was actually trying to drink away, the hypomania, the depression. By admitting that getting to the root of a problem is often just the beginning of seeing a deeper one. That hitting rock bottom only happens when you stop digging, and try to find a way out. That stigmatizing people who are mentally ill is killing millions of people every year. That suicide recently surpassed homicide as the second-leading cause of death in teenagers each year, after car accidents. That our military veterans come home wounded in body and mind and have a suicide rate that is drastically high, with little to no mental health treatment available. Just "be a man and deal with it" leads to guns being put to heads, nooses being wrapped around throats. That we as a society must change the way we treat the mentally ill, simply as people who have an illness no more controllable or treatable alone than Parkinson's. What's the difference? There is no difference but our mind-state, that's the difference. I worked in a Psychiatric hospital for almost 7 years, and I am still amazed at the daily comments from doctors, nurses, staff in general: "Oh, she's just Borderline", "He's just an attention-seeking teenage brat", "He's just classic Bipolar, throw him on Seroquel". "She's just a Benzo-head", "He's just a fucking drunk", "If he even starts acting up, throw him into isolation and we'll put him down with a shot of B52", (this is what we called the injected cocktail of Benedryl 50 with 2mg of Ativan, the B50-2). "He's crazy as a loon". "Don't even try to talk to her". "He's just an old asshole". "Homeless grunt trying to get a free meal". "He's not nice enough, I don't think we should let his kids visit". "She's a classic cutter, let her find a paper clip and do her worst, just ignore her". Daily. During "Report", as they called it. On the floor of the hospital within earshot of other patients. Sometimes directly to a patients face. Adults, Adolescents, Children as young as four years old. I worked directly with them all. And every time I heard "YOU JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND", I remember distinctly thinking: "You're right, I don't understand your exact nature, your exact chemical imbalance or behavioral disorder, but I refuse to not try and help you in whatever way I can. I will show you as best I can that I am WILLING to try to understand, not just that I do", because most of the time, you just don't. But you can try. Empathize. Don't be scared of us. We're your mailmen, postal workers, neighbors, bartenders, waitresses, telemarketers, local business owners, bosses, employees, co-workers, friends, family, loved ones, heroes and heroines.

Which leads me to my last thought. Last night we lost another amazing musician and gentle soul to suicide, Chris Cornell. Add him to the list of amazing artists we have lost to suicide, drugs, and alcohol over the last few years, decades, and the list is too great to comprehend. And the biggest killer of us all is the inability to speak out without being judged, I can speak to that from experience. Saying (or writing) all of this is very hard, when I could be taking myself out to a steak dinner and saying "I used to spend 25 bucks a day on booze, time to treat myself to something nice". I could be getting a relaxing massage. I used to do that. I don't anymore. Now I reflect on what comes next, what the future looks like, what I can do about it personally and globally, and what is beyond my control. I urge other members of my community, and communities around the world to speak up and speak out for themselves and those they love when confronted with the silence that permeates mental illness and awareness of all kinds.

We can't afford another Robin Williams, Chris Cornell, Aaron Swartz, Kurt Cobain, Hemingway, Hunter S. Thompson, Van Gogh, Sylvia Plath, Virginia Woolf, David Foster Wallace, et al. The thousands of unnamed teenagers and unknown mothers and fathers who have to live every day knowing their child is gone. We as the mentally ill need to speak out, and we as a culture need to speak out against the stigma, which increases mortality rates more than any chemical in our brains, of that I am sure. So, help us. Stand up for us. Yes, ask us to get help for ourselves too, and be patient when we need time, or aren't sure, or don't want to talk about it, but keep on pressing. We need the reminder, even when we don't want to hear it. We need the reminder that someone needs us on this earth, and they refuse to let us go without fighting for our lives, and without us fighting for our own.

"Most of us are acutely aware of our own struggles and we are preoccupied with our own problems. We sympathize with ourselves because we see our own difficulties so clearly. But as Ian MacLaren noted wisely, “Let us be kind to one another, for most of us are fighting a hard battle.”

Good luck and godspeed.

May 18th, 2017

Sam Dillon

[molecloth26-blog]

The Big Bang Theory Season 12, Episode 13 Recap: Sheldon and Amy Fight for Their Nobel Prize

After last week's weird episode, The Big Bang Theory is back on track with the return of "Fun with Flags," no mention of Leonard donating his sperm, and Sheldon powerfully sticking up for Amy (you tell 'em, Dr. Cooper). The episode also introduces Sean Astin and Kal Penn as physicists who could make or break Shamy's Nobel prize hopes, though the Muppet's Statler and Waldorf, two cranky obnoxious dudes, could have easily played the same parts.

Anyway, "The Confirmation Polarization" starts out on a high note when Amy receives an encouraging email from Dr. Pemberton (Astin) and Dr. Campbell (Penn) during a taping of "Fun with Flags." They seem to confirm Sheldon and Amy's theory about Super-Asymmetry, which sends Sheldon and Amy into a state of delirium. (They're so excited that Penny, Leonard, and the rest of the gang hear them from across the hall and assume they must be having sex.)

Sheldon and Amy tell Professor Siebert their news, and he suggests they could be looking at a Nobel-winning achievement. If they do win, they'll be the 39th and 40th Nobel Laureate winners from Cal Tech. Surprisingly Sheldon doesn't ask for a statue of himself immortalized on the campus, but you know that's coming. Later, Shamy meets with Drs. Pemberton and Campbell, who reveal this happened so fast because their experiment accidentally confirmed Super-Asymmetry. Sheldon and Amy are not amused. Pemberton and Campbell don't even understand Super-Asymmetry, but they don't care. They're just excited to be in Los Angeles and have tickets to a taping of Ellen. "Look at the four of us," Dr. Pemberton says, "changing the face of physics!"

Um, "the four" of you? Yep, apparently Pemberton and Cambell need to attach themselves to Sheldon and Amy's theory if there's any hope to win a Nobel.

PHOTO: Michael Yarish/Warner Bros. Entertainment

Later, Sheldon meets up with Leonard, Howard, and Raj to complain. Raj says he shouldn't worry because, "Super-Asymmetry is your paper. Everyone knows you discovered it first." Raj is right, Leonard says, but the Nobel committee has often favored scientists like Pemberton and Campbell. Either way, the whole thing is infuriating. (Not as infuriating, of course, as Leonard thinking of donating his sperm to Penny's ex-boyfriend.)

Sheldon then tells Pemberton and Cambell not to steal his idea; they can come up with their own. Campbell's all, "Yeah, that's not gonna happen." Pemberton snidely says, "Wouldn't that be something though!" Forget what I said about these two acting like Statler and Waldorf. They don't belong in a nice theater balcony. They deserve to live in Oscar the Grouch's trash can.

They eventually say they understand where Sheldon is coming from, but they're going to be part of this submission anyway. Sheldon's not thrilled—but if that's what it takes to win a Nobel, he's not going to say no. But that's when Pemberton and Campbell drop another bombshell: Only three of them can be named to the discovery, not four. (Side note: When did this thing turn in to a ride at Disneyland, where there's only room for a set amount of people in a row? Glad I never had Nobel ambitions.)

Sheldon wants Pemberton or Campbell to leave their name off the discovery, but neither's willing to budge. They reason that they're all physicists; since Amy is a neuroscientist, she doesn't belong. Sheldon storms out, but first he makes Pemberton and Campbell think he's on their side. Little do they know there's still 10 minutes left in the episode, and Sheldon's not going down without a fight.

Sheldon returns home for dinner with Amy and reluctantly tells her that only three people can share a Nobel prize. He explains that Pemberton and Campbell's university is recommending the two of them and Sheldon, and they want Cal Tech to do the same. If they present a united front, they'll have a better shot at winning. Amy reacts as if she's had the wind knocked out of her. "That makes sense," she says, still in shock.

Sheldon says he won't leave her off the submission, but Amy says maybe he should. Now Sheldon's shocked. "This has been your lifelong dream, and maybe you won't get another chance," she says. "I don't want to be the reason you don't win a Nobel."

Then, in the blink of an eye, Sheldon turns into Mr. Romance and tells Amy she's the only reason he even deserves a Nobel. Amy is touched but says if his best shot is to partner up with those idiots (my words, not hers), he should take it. "I just want you to be happy," she says. Amy, we do not deserve you.

Sheldon makes it seem as if he's going to move forward with this plan, but there's one more surprise left. In the next scene he storms into Professor Siebert's office and demands that Amy's name be included on the submission. "I will not be part of an award that does not recognize the value of her contributions," he says. "You either include both of us in the recommendation letter or don't bother writing one." More of this Sheldon, please!

PHOTO: Michael Yarish

Surprisingly, Siebert doesn't stand in Sheldon's way. Siebert acknowledges that it might cause a fight with the other team, but he also respects Sheldon's decision. "You and Dr. Fowler have my full support."

Sheldon's shocked, but also impressed with himself. I'm impressed with him, too. Amy can fight her own battles, but Sheldon's looked up to superheroes his entire life—it's nice to see him kind of turn into one, too.

Source: https://www.glamour.com/story/the-big-bang-theory-season-12-episode-13-recap

[albanlakepublishing-blog]

February Alban Lake Spotlight

Mike Morgan, Author

For our very first interview, we have Mr. Mike Morgan, a prolific and excellent author. He was kind enough to take time to answer our questions; but first, a quick bio for Mike:

 Mike Morgan lives in Iowa with his wife, two children, and increasingly infirm cat. After careers in the UK, Japan, and Texas involving accountancy, freelance illustration, non-fiction writing, and teaching, Mike now does improbably complex things on computers for a living. When he's not worrying about the cat or tidying up his kids' toys, Mike gets overwrought about politics and attempts to write short stories. It's possible his two hobbies get muddled up from time to time. He has written for several publishers in the UK and the USA, with pieces in anthologies, comics, and magazines. Follow him on Twitter as @CultTVMike, where he posts about all things sci-fi. Oh, OK, it's mostly Doctor Who.

 My website is: https://perpetualstateofmildpanic.wordpress.com/

 My latest project is this month's Outposts of Beyond.

  And on to the interview . . .

 Q: When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?

 A: I've wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. I looked at book covers as a young child, maybe five or six, and thought, "I want my name on a book." When I got into comics with 2000AD and then Star Wars Weekly, this would be when I was 7, that desire spread to wanting to be in the credits boxes in comic books, too. Unfortunately, as I got older, it became apparent that selling work wasn't going to be as easy as I'd initially thought.

 I tried for a sustained period in my twenties to break into comics, but never got anywhere. At one comics convention in Bristol, while hauling my portfolio around, I got chatting with Matt Brooker, who was brutally honest with me. "Look," he said, "There's nothing particularly wrong with the way you draw, but there just aren't any openings. We hire on maybe one or two new freelancers a year and they have some quirk. You draw well, but there's nothing unique. To develop that style, you need to put in thousands of hours of practice, and you're not going to get paid for that. You don't strike me as independently wealthy, so I doubt you can afford to do it for free. So..."

 He was right. I was dirt poor. I got a job in accountancy, which I hated. But at least I could go back to affording food.

 Later, after years of doing things I loathed, and then teaching for several years in Japan, I immigrated here to the U.S. Starting a new career in Texas, I worked for seven years as a technical writer and editor, which helped me fine-tune my knowledge of English grammar and punctuation and gave me first-hand insight into how hard it is to express complex ideas in plain, no-nonsense sentences. I got enough feedback to sink a fleet of Titanics and developed a tough skin to criticism. I also learned how important it was not to treat my fellow writers the way I was treated, and I became a mentor to some of the newer team members. Although the working environment was hostile, I did love the act of writing and I found joy in helping others improve their written work.

 While all that was going on, I was continuing to put out one or two pieces of my own writing. Teaching in Japan gives you a lot of spare time, so I'd started floating a few things past publishers. Moving to Texas, I was determined to keep that up, but stuck in a car for three or four hours a day on a hellish commute, working tons of extra, unpaid hours, and starting a family didn't leave a lot of spare time. It was only with our move to Iowa, where I still am now, that I found a better work-life balance and was able to kick the writing into high gear. To my inordinate surprise, I discovered that publishers wanted to print my short stories. Not only that, but readers showed every sign of liking them. I was flabbergasted.

 I look back now and I see my name on a book cover and my name in a comic book credits box and I'm glad I never completely gave in. One of my best friends, Kath, said this to me years ago and it stuck with me: "What I like about you, Mike, is that you keep on trying." I'm sure she's forgotten ever saying that to me, but I remembered, and I've tried to stay that way.

  Q: What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

 A: Oh, a 'quirk'! I have yet to develop one with my drawing, but with my writing...? Editors have often told me, in withering tones, that I over-write. You only have to glance at the length of this interview...

 Also, as part of over-egging a box full of puddings in every story, I tend toward the proliferation of pleonasms. And uncalled-for alliteration.

 If you catch me doing it, slap me.

  Q: What do you like to do when you're not writing?

 A: I watch lots of science fiction and read comics. I really enjoy reading stories to my two kids at bedtime, too. Honestly, with two young kids in the house, I spend a lot of time taking endless delight in everything they say and do. I try to carve out a few moments every day to remind my wife how much I appreciate her.

  Q: How many books have you written? Which is your favorite?

 A: I've had 10 short stories published professionally, with two more coming out in the next couple of months. A couple of those were my Titanville stories, which were published together in an e-book by Nomadic Delirium Press, getting me my first solo front-cover credit. I have a dozen more stories in slush piles as we speak, so one or two more will probably work their ways through to acceptance this year – that seems to be the typical ratio of stories sent to stories accepted.

 I've also had a few stories in charity anthologies, and a couple of poems (one was about Star Trek and was printed by Iron Press in a collection sold throughout a major high-street chain of bookshops in the UK), a few non-fiction articles about the long-running BBC TV series Doctor Who in various tomes, and a comic strip script in the British small press comic Futurequake. Another comic script is being drawn now, as it happens, for Futurequake. We're hoping it'll be included in the Spring issue, but we'll see how that goes.

 Oh, and I worked for a short while at an online word mill, putting out articles about sci-fi. You can find them at WhatCulture.com. They accumulated about three million page-views, I think.

  Q: What inspires you to write?

 A: I am drawn to the act of wrenching something into existence through the blunt application of imagination and willpower. I am compelled to create. For better or worse, you guys are on the receiving end of that compulsion.

 When it comes down to deciding what I'm going to write about, I think there are some themes I keep returning to: the beauty in the world, the triumph of love and kindness over indifference and cruelty, the eternal fight against injustice, how any attempt to simplify the complexity of the real world down into stark black-and-white concepts will lead to hate and death...

Also, I love writing characters who are flat-out wrong. There's nothing more fun and more human than someone who is utterly convinced about the rightness of a cause, and that cause is based on an utter misunderstanding. Really, that type of thinking characterizes most of our species' history. People who are wrong deserve our sympathy, our help, our love, not our derision. Anyway, that's some entertaining stuff to write about.

One final thought – I don't want to be a downer but I do feel time pressing on me. Nothing like worrying I'll be dead in a few years to spur me to get some writing done.

 Q: Do you set a plot or prefer going wherever an idea takes you?

 A: I try to have a clear idea of what the story's about before I get too far down the rabbit hole of writing. Preferably, I have an end worked out as well, even if that ending changes by the time I get to it. Sometimes, I'll start the story with the end and work my way backward to the beginning. But there should always be a purpose to a story, even if that purpose is to have fun.

 Every time I carve a tale out of the disorganized mess of my thoughts, the process seems different. One time, the whole story will spill out of me in a rush. Other times, I have to sit down and think through what I'm trying to express.

 Every now and then, a neat idea will occur to me, but I can't find a way to get a coherent plot out of it. Then, a second, entirely different idea will come to me, and I find mashing the two disparate strands together into the same reality brings the whole thing into focus.

 For example, someone having giant spiders in her home and not being bothered by them because they're not in any way dangerous is a neat mental image, but it's not a story in itself. But, add a second strand: imagine there's a neighbor whose job is to twist facts to meet political dogma and that neighbor comes into contact with those spiders... what happens? Does she believe the objective truth that they're completely safe to be around, or does she react with emotion and twist reality to meet that baseless viewpoint? After all, that's her job.

 Boom – you have conflict. The wrong-headed, fact-denying neighbor suddenly at war with nice, harmless giant-sized arachnids. For no other reason than she can't see the truth in front of her face, which is a very common and very plausible failing. What's more, the story takes on a greater message: we shouldn't twist facts to meet our prejudices, no matter how tempted we'd be to do that if we were in the neighbor's shoes.

 That's where A Spider Queen in Every Home came from, the mingling of two ideas that, on the face of it, can't coexist in a single narrative; but, they can, and that story was picked up and published in More Alternative Truths by B-Cubed Press.

 Lastly, some publishers require that you pitch ideas. There, you have to submit a complete plot, along with character notes, up front. If a pitch is accepted, there's no scope for changing details along the way as you write the actual story. For all you know, by altering the agreed-upon tale without consultation, you might be encroaching upon territory occupied by another story in the same collection.

 When fleshing out a pitch, it can feel like you're working while wearing a straightjacket. But it's an opportunity to find ways of making the piece as entertaining as possible without venturing beyond the plan you gave your word on. I've written a couple of stories based on pitches. Unto His Final Breath in Uffda Press's King of Ages: A King Arthur Anthology was created that way, and it garnered some nice reviews. I really like the world building I got to do in that short story.

  Q: What types and forms of writing do you do? If you're also an editor, what is your niche?

 A: I mostly write short stories these days, but I toy with novels. I do have a novel I'm working on (doesn't every writer?) - but, it's the short stories that sell. I am sneakily putting together various stories that work as elements within a greater whole, so that by the time they're all published you'll find they're a novel-length narrative printed in discrete parts across multiple publishers, books, and media. That's the idea, anyway.

 For example, the Titanville stories stand alone as individual tales, but the intent is to have themes and sub-plots that build as time goes on, without requiring the reader to be familiar with every installment. The Age of Asmodeus stories have a similar approach; there's a history to that world, and each story explores a different sliver of it. As those stories go on, readers will see various characters moving in and out of segments of the series or they'll be referred to. Again, the readers won't need to read every story, but there'll be a sense of events moving forward for those who do.

 With the tales featuring Professor Lazarus, the cumulative narrative will unfold using text-based stories and comic strips. Again, that's the hope. Futurequake, a British comic, has printed one story so far and has another one being drawn at the moment. With the short stories, I've had some luck; Flame Tree Publishing printed Fishing Expedition a while ago. I've written a couple more Lazarus stories since then that I'm waiting to hear back on, so we'll see how that goes.

 But you were asking about types of writing. Occasionally, I have a poem published. More often, I'll get non-fiction pieces accepted. I contribute on a semi-regular basis to the range on media and culture put out by Watching Books. This year, they're printing a volume called You on Target about the Target series of Doctor Who novelizations, and I have two essays in that.

 With editing, I offer my services to small presses who print my stories, with regards to proofreading or checking formatting. I'm always willing to help put out the best publication possible.

  Q: What is your area(s) of subject matter expertise? How did you discover this niche? What intrigues you about it?

 A: With living in Japan for several years, I found writing stories set there pretty easy. Not much research required! There's a story of mine being printed soon by you fine people at Alban Lake Press set in Japan. Kuro no Ken (The Back Sword) is slated for the next issue of Outposts of Beyond. The scenes in Ise City take place twenty minutes down the road from where I lived for three years, and the part in the vast cemetery—I've visited that cemetery and it really is that creepy. I love Japan. Those were some of the happiest years of my life.

 Having said that, I lived for longer in Stoke-on-Trent in the UK, and that was the setting for Reverse Horror Story. Your fine company published that piece in Bloodbond just last year. I had way too much fun putting Stoke-themed jokes into that monster-mash-up. I guess, to answer your question, I'm an expert at shoe-horning places I've lived into my stories. I find having a deep knowledge of the settings makes them feel more authentic.

 But, to be clear, I've never lived on the enormous asteroid Ceres, the setting of The Library of Ice in this month's Outposts of Beyond. I'd be willing to give it a try, though.

 Being serious for a moment, I keep writing about people who are struggling because I've been through that. Want to be an expert on the poor? Try being unemployed for years on end, not having enough to eat and worrying about losing the room you're renting. That'll give you an understanding of what that life is like. Newsflash – it's really stressful and depressing.

  Q: How do you balance your creative and work time?

 A: I have yet to find any balance, but live in hope. I get the kids to bed in the evening and then try to write. Sometimes, I even succeed.

  Q: Where have you been published? Upcoming publications? Awards and other accolades?

 A: Other than the things I've already talked about, I'd like to mention Nomadic Delirium's Divided States series, which explores a post-USA North America. My contribution to this excellent range was The Wall Is Beautiful. I hope to finish a second story in this shared universe. I was also fortunate enough to have submissions accepted in their Martian Wave and Disharmony of the Spheres collections.

 One other project I'm very proud to have participated in was Metasaga's Futuristica anthology. I had Something to Watch Over Us included in that amazing collection. I can't heap enough praise on that spectacular book; if you like science fiction, you need to own it.

 As far as upcoming releases go, that I haven't already called attention to, I have a story called Buddy System accepted in Myriad Paradigm's upcoming Mind Candy anthology. The intent is for that book to be released in the next few months. I also have something in the editing pile with Red Ted Books, which should be advancing toward publication this year.

 And, yes, it's a fanzine, but I like fanzines, I'm working with the wonderful people who put out the Doctor Who-themed Fannuals to see what they might want from me for their next volume. I'm so in love with the Fannual project; it's incredible fun. It's actually what I'm starting work on after finishing this interview.

  Q: What are you working on now?

 A: Well, Alban Lake announced they were going to do something with ghost stories, so, you know, I thought I'd try to submit to that. *Grins*

 In the pipeline are more Age of Asmodeus tales, more Titanville, more Lazarus, more space opera antics, more of everything I'm obsessed with.

  Q: Who are your favorite characters to write? How did they come into being, and what do you love - or loathe - about them?

 A: I love writing about Professor Lazarus. She gives her life in every story, usually to save the world from some terrible fate. Then, next story, she's alive again, in a world that's transformed. It forces me to reinvent her and her milieu every time. And there's a point to all her deaths; it's leading to something.

 She came into being because I thought, "Hah – killing the lead character every time would be funny." Then I thought, "What if it's the same lead character every time, and there's a reason she keeps coming back?" How does knowledge of her deaths affect her? Where, at a character level, does that propel the over-arching storyline?

 Another fun character was Silas Smith in The Man Who Killed Computers (published in Disharmony of the Spheres). He's able to lie to computers and have them believe what he's saying. Once you realize how he's doing that, it's less amusing, because you also realize that he can manipulate the humans in the story. I love the ambiguity of his character. He tries so hard to convince everyone he's a hero—the story revolves around how others respond to his claims.

  Q: Any advice you would like to give to aspiring writers?

 A: If someone says you need to improve, he or she is probably right. Every writer needs to improve, every day. It's a process that never ends.

 Don't take rejection personally. It's the work that sucks, not you.

 Keep trying. Stories are only published if they're written and then submitted.

 Realize that even after you've had a pile of stories published there will still be more defeats than victories. And that it's OK.

 Anything else you’d like to add that I haven’t asked? For example, what would you like to see more of in your specific genre? In the publishing field?

 We all like to get things for free. But—! Readers: try to pay for that fiction you're consuming. The more the publishers earn, the more they can pay the writers. The more the writers earn, the more they can write. It's a virtuous feedback loop. If you can't find good fiction out there, it's because you won't pay for it.

 Or, you know, you haven't been to Alban Lake's store. There's lots of good writing there.

  Once again, we’d like to thank Mr. Mike Morgan for his time and to thank all of you for supporting Alban Lake and all of these awesome authors and artists.

[lilysbook]

Ramblings: Reflection

My 3 weeks of freedom is coming to an end in 3 more days.

The first week was filled with apprehension and anxiety as I busied myself with the thoughts of finding a part-time job right away before my internship officially starts. It seems that I had forgotten how tough it was to get a job. I sent several resumes and even had an interview however time was a cruel factor. After a few half-hearted attempt in securing a job, I realise that I would not get this opportunity again in the near future. The opportunity to just do nothing. To rest and relax after 3 years of monotonous and toxic environment, I can afford to rest for a mere 3 weeks, can’t I? So rest and relax I did.

In the second week, there were news of EXO’s grand comeback, and EXO’s official SNS were created. Rumors about teaser (and eventually official news of the teasers) started to arise. SM dropped individual teasers at 12am KST each night for their title track. 

It was the beginning of my fangirl experience in comebacks. I was on twitter 24/7 and I think that I am an annoyance to my non-EXO twitter stans who had to see all my fangirling EXO tweets, so I am a little sorry about that. As this was my first comeback experience (EXO was my first ever kpop group I am obsessed with), I had no idea what to expect. So, I stayed up every night to wait for the new teaser alongside my twitter timeline that became frenzied every night an hour before it was released. The experience was in a word... fun. I had a sense of comradeship with my fellow EXO-Ls (although I don’t have any common mutuals -- I usually tweet and talk to myself loll). But I had a great time reading, liking and retweeting. The best part was 5 minutes before the teaser. Everyone in the timeline was filled with anticipation and excitement so it’s so easy to fall into the delirium as well. 

Kai was the first member in the teaser. Even though I had been excited just a minute before, when the teaser opened with the catchy tune, my heart dropped. Kai had dreads. Disappointment mixed with adoration. Kai looked so cute as always but he had dreads. My stand on it is that it is cultural appropriation and that it is not right for those not in the African culture to have it. Some don’t share my view but I think it is still wrong. He had dreads during the Wolf era as well and he did not like it so why now? Many (including me) defended him saying that the stylist/SM were the ones who forced it upon him. However, now we know that Kai was the one who requested for the hairstyle which disappointed me even more. He needs to be educated about this and some EXO-Ls had planned to do so. Hope that the message will reach him and he will be more knowledgeable about it and hopefully he would stopped wearing that hairstyle.

Baekhyun was next. The first thing that I did was to laugh at his hairstyle. But as time goes by, I think he pulls off the mullet really well. I fell in love right away with the song in his teaser, Forever. Kyungsoo’s line “Don’t break my soul...” was a clincher. 

There were many theories of whose teaser it will be the following night. Some said it was in alphabetical order, some said it followed the old songs order, some said it was the appearance in the teaser of the previous member. The last theory proved to be right (well, only for the first few nights). Chanyeol was the one to appear in the teaser. I loved his cotton candy hair. I love any hair that is bright. Chanyeol look so handsome in the teaser. The song Chill was awesome too.

Sehun came next and he looks good as always. He had grown on me over time. I always look forward to him when he is in variety shows. He has that natural entertainment sense. Anyway, he was amazingly badass in the teaser. His chest was covered with tattoos and his gaze was intense. I was like, woahhhh the maknae has grown up! 

The next night was Suho. I love Suho and his awkwardness. But there were no traces of awkwardness in his teaser. He looks dashing even in the various weirdly-styled outfit and his centre-parted mob of hair; both fits him perfectly. Suho is very princely and he has that royal aura surrounding him. As expected, that is our leader with high ranked visuals.

We were left with my top 3 biases: Kyungsoo, Xiumin, Chen & Lay. I know now that Lay is not in the comeback, but back then, I still had that tiny hope that he would appear the last night or something. Anyways, I was still so grateful and happy that SM saved my favourite boys for the last.

The next night was Xiumin. Wow. I was so speechless by his ethereal beauty. Is Minseok even real? As I have posted often here on Tumblr (LOL), Xiumin is my bias wrecker. I just can’t keep my eyes of him in the teaser. He has that gentle and feminine look that I adore so much, yet he is manly (do I make sense?). He is just so so beautiful. His eyes is his best feature. With his black comma hairstyle, (let’s face it he can dye his hair in any colour and he still look gorgeous) he was the most good-looking out of all the members by far. Of course, EXO has no visual hole (everyone is so very extremely handsome) and this is just my personal opinion anyways. Xiumin is just so underrated sometimes and I just want to shake everyone and tell them to look at that beauty and talent and intelligent human being  and stop sleeping on him. His vocal is one of the top in EXO but he was still overlooked. I’m so glad that SM gave him more chance to shine with Young and Free and also The War album. So proud of you my darling, beautiful Minseok. 

Chen came next. Different from the other nights, I watched the teaser late because I was not home. The first thing when I got data was to check who was next HAHA. This level of dedication (or obsession) surprise even me. Anyway, it was the vocalist who slays high notes in EXO, Chen. I like Chen’s personality. He even bleached his hair for the first time just for this album. That is dedication. I always like idols with blonde hair as I find them good-looking and Jongdae was no exception. he looks so good in the teaser. 

And then who do we have left? Yes, it is my ult bias in EXO, D.O, Do Kyungsoo. Out of all the members, I like his voice the most (yes I may be slightly biased). I like everything about him. I like that he is shy outside, but his stage presence is amazing. I like that he is passionate about both his singing and acting. I like that he is a man of few words, but when he talks, everyone cracks up. I like that even though he is physically small, he is a manly man. I like his smile, I like his hair. I like his loyalty because even though he has acting commitments, he drops everything for EXO. I like him so so much. In the teaser, he smiled so gently, it feels like he is my boyfriend. In this album, I like that he has a lot of parts because i like his singing voice. You know how you like someone and you like everything about them but you cannot also point out specifically what you like about them because you are afraid you will miss out on something? Yeah, that’s how I feel about Kyungsoo. I just... like him as a person. I admire him so much. 

Even though I have biases in EXO, I love each and every member too. They are talented and popular, yet they remain humble and polite and down-to-earth. They were met with so many challenges but even so, they are still one. Their gratitude towards the fans are what made us EXO-Ls stay and what makes them still relevant imo. I hope Lay will join them in the repackage album!!!

I love stanning EXO. 

Anyway, the group teaser of Kokobop was released night after Kyungsoo’s and then the MV the day after. I love the song. I love the whole The War album. I love how EXO feels so excited about this album because they were involved in the making thus making them attached to it. The MV itself needed some time to get used to because there were slight drug references in it. The first time I watched, I had already picked up on the not-so-subtle cues that they were high on drugs lol (don’t do drugs kids). But I may have overreacted and think too much as well. I don’t know. Baekhyun explained they were aliens sent to Earth (in reference to previous MVs). The filmography was amazing though.

They then had Vlive and everyone was so funny and cute omg especially Kyungsoo’s freestyle dance to Touch It. HAHAHA that ahjussi. The most exciting schedule that they have and that I am looking forward to would be their appearance in Knowing brothers. I am a Knowing Brothers maniac so having two of my faves set of people meet is the best thing a fangirl can get. 

Their first live performance of Kokobop was just tonight and it was amazing. The dance, the vocal, the visual were top notch. I like the starting and the dance break part the best. 

And they performed The Eve too. Wow. It has a sensuous feeling to it. HAHA. I am barely explaining it but the whole album is that way so yeah. (I want to see this live lol. I attended Exor’dium concert where they performed Artificial Love and woah what an incredible experience).

Anyway, my point of this entry (before I could stop myself from writing an essay about EXO) was that EXO unintentionally became my project during these 3 weeks break. I experienced how it was like becoming a full-time fangirl and it was an amazing and fun experience. I foresee myself not having the luxury of committing this much time and effort in the future due to internship and work commitment hence these 3 weeks had been an enriching and novel experience in its’ own way. I believe that everything happened for a reason. EXO’s comeback just happened to be at the time where I have no commitment and for that, I am utterly grateful.

I will be cherishing my last 3 days and giving full support towards my boys whose rival is their 2016 self (as wisely said by Minseok). I will be like them and constantly try to improve myself as well. 

This had been really fun. I will miss this feeling. 

[readbookywooks]

[A further account of the academy. The author proposes some improvements, which are honourably received.] In the school of political projectors, I was but ill entertained; the professors appearing, in my judgment, wholly out of their senses, which is a scene that never fails to make me melancholy. These unhappy people were proposing schemes for persuading monarchs to choose favourites upon the score of their wisdom, capacity, and virtue; of teaching ministers to consult the public good; of rewarding merit, great abilities, eminent services; of instructing princes to know their true interest, by placing it on the same foundation with that of their people; of choosing for employments persons qualified to exercise them, with many other wild, impossible chimeras, that never entered before into the heart of man to conceive; and confirmed in me the old observation, "that there is nothing so extravagant and irrational, which some philosophers have not maintained for truth." But, however, I shall so far do justice to this part of the Academy, as to acknowledge that all of them were not so visionary. There was a most ingenious doctor, who seemed to be perfectly versed in the whole nature and system of government. This illustrious person had very usefully employed his studies, in finding out effectual remedies for all diseases and corruptions to which the several kinds of public administration are subject, by the vices or infirmities of those who govern, as well as by the licentiousness of those who are to obey. For instance: whereas all writers and reasoners have agreed, that there is a strict universal resemblance between the natural and the political body; can there be any thing more evident, than that the health of both must be preserved, and the diseases cured, by the same prescriptions? It is allowed, that senates and great councils are often troubled with redundant, ebullient, and other peccant humours; with many diseases of the head, and more of the heart; with strong convulsions, with grievous contractions of the nerves and sinews in both hands, but especially the right; with spleen, flatus, vertigos, and deliriums; with scrofulous tumours, full of fetid purulent matter; with sour frothy ructations: with canine appetites, and crudeness of digestion, besides many others, needless to mention. This doctor therefore proposed, "that upon the meeting of the senate, certain physicians should attend it the three first days of their sitting, and at the close of each day's debate feel the pulses of every senator; after which, having maturely considered and consulted upon the nature of the several maladies, and the methods of cure, they should on the fourth day return to the senate house, attended by their apothecaries stored with proper medicines; and before the members sat, administer to each of them lenitives, aperitives, abstersives, corrosives, restringents, palliatives, laxatives, cephalalgics, icterics, apophlegmatics, acoustics, as their several cases required; and, according as these medicines should operate, repeat, alter, or omit them, at the next meeting." This project could not be of any great expense to the public; and might in my poor opinion, be of much use for the despatch of business, in those countries where senates have any share in the legislative power; beget unanimity, shorten debates, open a few mouths which are now closed, and close many more which are now open; curb the petulancy of the young, and correct the positiveness of the old; rouse the stupid, and damp the pert. Again: because it is a general complaint, that the favourites of princes are troubled with short and weak memories; the same doctor proposed, "that whoever attended a first minister, after having told his business, with the utmost brevity and in the plainest words, should, at his departure, give the said minister a tweak by the nose, or a kick in the belly, or tread on his corns, or lug him thrice by both ears, or run a pin into his breech; or pinch his arm black and blue, to prevent forgetfulness; and at every levee day, repeat the same operation, till the business were done, or absolutely refused." He likewise directed, "that every senator in the great council of a nation, after he had delivered his opinion, and argued in the defence of it, should be obliged to give his vote directly contrary; because if that were done, the result would infallibly terminate in the good of the public." When parties in a state are violent, he offered a wonderful contrivance to reconcile them. The method is this: You take a hundred leaders of each party; you dispose them into couples of such whose heads are nearest of a size; then let two nice operators saw off the occiput of each couple at the same time, in such a manner that the brain may be equally divided. Let the occiputs, thus cut off, be interchanged, applying each to the head of his opposite party-man. It seems indeed to be a work that requires some exactness, but the professor assured us, "that if it were dexterously performed, the cure would be infallible." For he argued thus: "that the two half brains being left to debate the matter between themselves within the space of one skull, would soon come to a good understanding, and produce that moderation, as well as regularity of thinking, so much to be wished for in the heads of those, who imagine they come into the world only to watch and govern its motion: and as to the difference of brains, in quantity or quality, among those who are directors in faction, the doctor assured us, from his own knowledge, that "it was a perfect trifle." I heard a very warm debate between two professors, about the most commodious and effectual ways and means of raising money, without grieving the subject. The first affirmed, "the justest method would be, to lay a certain tax upon vices and folly; and the sum fixed upon every man to be rated, after the fairest manner, by a jury of his neighbours." The second was of an opinion directly contrary; "to tax those qualities of body and mind, for which men chiefly value themselves; the rate to be more or less, according to the degrees of excelling; the decision whereof should be left entirely to their own breast." The highest tax was upon men who are the greatest favourites of the other sex, and the assessments, according to the number and nature of the favours they have received; for which, they are allowed to be their own vouchers. Wit, valour, and politeness, were likewise proposed to be largely taxed, and collected in the same manner, by every person's giving his own word for the quantum of what he possessed. But as to honour, justice, wisdom, and learning, they should not be taxed at all; because they are qualifications of so singular a kind, that no man will either allow them in his neighbour or value them in himself. The women were proposed to be taxed according to their beauty and skill in dressing, wherein they had the same privilege with the men, to be determined by their own judgment. But constancy, chastity, good sense, and good nature, were not rated, because they would not bear the charge of collecting. To keep senators in the interest of the crown, it was proposed that the members should raffle for employment; every man first taking an oath, and giving security, that he would vote for the court, whether he won or not; after which, the losers had, in their turn, the liberty of raffling upon the next vacancy. Thus, hope and expectation would be kept alive; none would complain of broken promises, but impute their disappointments wholly to fortune, whose shoulders are broader and stronger than those of a ministry. Another professor showed me a large paper of instructions for discovering plots and conspiracies against the government. He advised great statesmen to examine into the diet of all suspected persons; their times of eating; upon which side they lay in bed; with which hand they wipe their posteriors; take a strict view of their excrements, and, from the colour, the odour, the taste, the consistence, the crudeness or maturity of digestion, form a judgment of their thoughts and designs; because men are never so serious, thoughtful, and intent, as when they are at stool, which he found by frequent experiment; for, in such conjunctures, when he used, merely as a trial, to consider which was the best way of murdering the king, his ordure would have a tincture of green; but quite different, when he thought only of raising an insurrection, or burning the metropolis. The whole discourse was written with great acuteness, containing many observations, both curious and useful for politicians; but, as I conceived, not altogether complete. This I ventured to tell the author, and offered, if he pleased, to supply him with some additions. He received my proposition with more compliance than is usual among writers, especially those of the projecting species, professing "he would be glad to receive further information." I told him, "that in the kingdom of Tribnia, (3) by the natives called Langdon, (4) where I had sojourned some time in my travels, the bulk of the people consist in a manner wholly of discoverers, witnesses, informers, accusers, prosecutors, evidences, swearers, together with their several subservient and subaltern instruments, all under the colours, the conduct, and the pay of ministers of state, and their deputies. The plots, in that kingdom, are usually the workmanship of those persons who desire to raise their own characters of profound politicians; to restore new vigour to a crazy administration; to stifle or divert general discontents; to fill their coffers with forfeitures; and raise, or sink the opinion of public credit, as either shall best answer their private advantage. It is first agreed and settled among them, what suspected persons shall be accused of a plot; then, effectual care is taken to secure all their letters and papers, and put the owners in chains. These papers are delivered to a set of artists, very dexterous in finding out the mysterious meanings of words, syllables, and letters: for instance, they can discover a close stool, to signify a privy council; a flock of geese, a senate; a lame dog, an invader; the plague, a standing army; a buzzard, a prime minister; the gout, a high priest; a gibbet, a secretary of state; a chamber pot, a committee of grandees; a sieve, a court lady; a broom, a revolution; a mouse-trap, an employment; a bottomless pit, a treasury; a sink, a court; a cap and bells, a favourite; a broken reed, a court of justice; an empty tun, a general; a running sore, the administration. (5) "When this method fails, they have two others more effectual, which the learned among them call acrostics and anagrams. First, they can decipher all initial letters into political meanings. Thus N, shall signify a plot; B, a regiment of horse; L, a fleet at sea; or, secondly, by transposing the letters of the alphabet in any suspected paper, they can lay open the deepest designs of a discontented party. So, for example, if I should say, in a letter to a friend, 'Our brother Tom has just got the piles,' a skilful decipherer would discover, that the same letters which compose that sentence, may be analysed into the following words, 'Resist - , a plot is brought home - The tour.' And this is the anagrammatic method." The professor made me great acknowledgments for communicating these observations, and promised to make honourable mention of me in his treatise. I saw nothing in this country that could invite me to a longer continuance, and began to think of returning home to England.

[gatesofember]

Wheat fields, Bluebonnets, and Hedges: Chapter 2

PJO Arranged Marriage/Royalty AU Part 6

Rating: T | Pairing: Solangelo

Prev | Next | AU directory | Read it on AO3 (Recommended) | Arranged Marriage AU Masterpage

Summary: Now that he’s fully aware of his feelings for Will, Prince Nico spends his visit to Diana trying to lure his fiancé into kissing him, only to be continuously thwarted by either his guard or his fiancé’s obliviousness. Will, however, is more concerned with other matters — namely, his family’s ceaseless endeavor to embarrass him in front of the Prince.

Nico’s first day in Diana had not been a complete failure, but it hadn’t gone the way he had hoped.  To his surprise, he might have even done well when meeting Will’s family.  He had been quite determined to be polite and it appeared he had succeeded.  Yes, Will’s family was rather odd and lacked some refinement, but they were friendly.  They quite obviously adored Will—which was to be expected, as Nico believed it was rather difficult to not adore him.  Nico had enjoyed hearing about Will’s long-lasting admiration of him.  He’d also enjoyed the portrait.

However, Nico had been hoping for a bit...more.

When Will stayed in Divitia in the fall, Nico had attempted to get Will alone several times but Hedge had always been in the way.  All of Nico’s attempts to get Will to kiss him had been thwarted.  His disappointment had led to determination and Nico had resolutely decided he would succeed in kissing Will the next time they met.  Nico would never admit to it, but he had entertained fantasies about Will sweeping him into his arms and kissing him the moment he stepped foot on Dianan soil.  It was a ridiculous idea, so Nico wasn’t terribly disappointed that it didn’t happen.  He had been disappointed when Will didn’t kiss him at all that day.  Nico had given Will plenty of opportunities to do it.  He had complimented Will.  He had stood close to Will.  He’d touched Will.  He’d even managed to escape from Hedge!  And yet, Will had done nothing about it.

Despite that, Nico remained determined.  He vowed that he would get Will to kiss him on his second day.  Surely they would find an appropriate time for it; they would be in Delphi.

Delphi, the most important Sororal city in Jupiter, was located just outside of Phoebus.  Although they were both Sororal cities, Delphi and Venadica were said to be very different.  Venadica was the City of Enlightenment, a place where some of the most brilliant sorors and consors studied.  On the other hand, Delphi was known as a place for the entire Populus Romanus to gather and celebrate the gods.  Of course Delphi was dedicated to ’the hunt,’ as well—Will studied there in the winter—but that wasn’t the city’s purpose.

The city was most famous for its pleasure gardens.  The Gardens of Delphi were open to the public and contained not only stunningly artistic landscaping, but also an opera house and menagerie.  It was partially the Gardens of Delphi that made public pleasure gardens so popular throughout the Romanus Terris.  Its influence was no coincidence; the city had been a gathering place since ancient times.  According to legend, the city was the center of the world, located at Gaea’s navel.  Nico could remember Bianca telling him that late one evening when they had sneaked out of their rooms to play.  They had giggled about it all night long.

The important thing was that Will was taking them to a famously beautiful place and Nico would not let the day end before he got Will to kiss him.  It had occurred to Nico that he could simply tell Will that he wanted a kiss, but he had never seriously considered doing so.  That would be far too embarrassing and improper.  And, of course, Nico could theoretically be the one to kiss Will, but Nico would not allow himself to commit such a scandalous act.  The only viable solution was to somehow get Will to kiss him, preferably without revealing too much of his enthusiasm about the idea.  Unfortunately, Will was unlikely to do it on his own; as the Prince, Nico would be the one to initiate all novel steps in their relationship.  Nico had been the one to propose, their wedding would be in Nico’s home, and Nico would be the one to decide where and when they kissed.  So Nico had to somehow dictate the appropriateness of the setting to Will without actually giving the kiss itself.

“The room I stayed in was massive,” Nico said as they were traveling to Delphi.  “You didn’t tell me that your home was so beautiful!”

Will was watching him with a smile that was sweet, kind, and so very Will in a way that made Nico want to kiss it.  “Well, it is our best guest room,” Will said.

“But it was huge!  You could have fit a stable in there!”

Will chuckled.  “Rooms in southern Jupiter tend to be larger than those in Pluto.  The weather is warmer here.  Pluto’s harsh winters are what makes smaller rooms more common there; small rooms are easier to heat.  But, although your rooms are smaller, you have many more of them.”

“That is true,” Nico said thoughtfully.  Regardless, the Sun Palace had provided Nico with a clearer picture of exactly how wealthy his fiancé was.  Of course the Palatium de Divitae was just as opulent, but it lacked the liveliness of the Sun Palace.  The Divitae was kept clean and in good condition, but something about the atmosphere had seemed cold and dead since the Scarlet Delirium.  Will’s home was just the opposite; it was filled with people and activity.  Every room was kept lit, as they were constantly in use; the Sun Palace was home to not only Apollo’s family, but the staff and farm workers and their families, as well.  The wealth of the Dianan family allowed it to not only inhabit a beautiful palace, but to truly fill it with their presence and provide for everyone who called it home.

Even the carriage was luxurious.  They were taking one of Apollo’s, an updated model with a spring system that made the ride smoother.  There was enough room to comfortably seat Nico and Will as well as Reyna and Hedge, and there was still room for Asterion to lie on the floor between them.  The outside of the carriage was gilded like the Hall of Gold in the Palatium de Divitae and the inside was lined with leather.  Nico was in awe of how beautiful it was, but he was also insecure about what Will might think of the Pluton royal carriage he traveled in.  The seats were not cushioned as well, the ride was bumpy, and the design was rather plain by comparison.  Will knew about Pluto’s economic troubles, but how did that play into his opinion of Nico?

“Have you seen Rheae Fidelium?” Will suddenly asked, pulling Nico from his ruminating.

“I have not,” Nico replied, wondering if that made him seem uncultured.  It was a popular opera, but the royal family’s budgeting left the arts somewhat neglected.

“The current act in Delphi is performing it.  I thought we might attend, if you enjoy opera?”

“Do you enjoy opera?” Nico asked.

Still smiling, Will tilted his head to the side and said, “I asked Your Highness first.”

Without warning, Hedge suddenly exploded, “That is no way to speak to the Prince!”

Will looked shocked, then sheepish, but Reyna intervened before anything else could happen.  “Hedge,” she said sternly.  “Remember what we discussed this morning.”

Hedge grumbled to himself, but didn’t fight back.  It was pointless to resist Reyna; Nico knew from experience.  Earlier that day, when Hedge and Nico had gotten into an argument over what constituted as proper behavior of a suitor, Reyna had grown tired of their bickering and reminded Hedge that she was Nico’s chaperone, while Hedge’s main concern should be Nico’s safety.  Hedge feebly argued that he was trying to keep Nico’s chastity safe, but Reyna once again reminded Hedge that Nico’s chastity was her responsibility, not his.  “I find it difficult to believe that Lord William poses a threat to the Prince’s virtue,” she had added.  Nico hadn’t said it outloud, but he was fairly certain that he threatened Will’s virtue more than Will threatened his.

Nico cleared his throat to cut through the sudden tension in the carriage and said, “Yes, I enjoy opera.  And you?”

“I love the opera,” Will said.  Nico refused to admit that his breath caught just a bit at the word ’love.’ “ Rheae Fidelium is my favorite.  I admit I’ve already gone to Delphi to watch it a few times this season.  I never tire of it.”

“Then of course I would like to see it,” Nico said.  He wondered if they would have a box to themselves.  Last time they’d gone to the opera together, the box had been crowded.  Perhaps this time, they would be alone, sitting side by side in the dark.  Perhaps then Nico would get Will to kiss him.  They would kiss while listening to the music of Will’s favorite opera and it would make Will so happy that he would think of Nico every time he heard it in the future.

When they arrived in Delphi, Will showed him the city through the carriage window.  Nico’s heart raced when Will leaned closer to look over Nico’s shoulder at the passing scenery.  Hedge had looked like he wanted to interject, but Reyna’s scolding hadn’t worn off quite yet and he remained silent.  Nico was glad.  He liked the tingling feeling on his back as he imagined Will leaning closer, close enough to touch him.  To his surprise, he even liked the height Will had on him when his soft voice came from above his shoulder.  Will had grown taller since the last time they’d met in person.  Nico had grown taller, as well, and he’d hoped that he would have caught back up to Will’s height, but those hopes turned out to be in vain.  It was annoying, but also notably attractive.  Nico could admit that it was a nice angle to look at Will from.  Nico had also noticed that Will looked rather like his father and his oldest brother, Lee.  Both Apollo and Lee were quite handsome, which led Nico to believe that Will could only grow more attractive as he aged.  It was an appealing idea.

Will paid the entrance fee for the Gardens of Delphi—technically a voluntary donation, Will explained, but it was frowned upon not to pay—and Nico’s hopes about being alone in the dark were confirmed when Will sent notice to the staff that he would make use of the Duke’s box later that afternoon.  “Would you like to watch the nightly fireworks ceremony?” Will asked as they were exiting the carriage.  “I must warn you that it begins after sundown, so it will be late by the time we return to Phoebus.”

“Of course I want to watch,” Nico said.  “When will I have the chance to view the Gardens of Delphi’s famous fireworks ceremony?”

Will chuckled.  “Then we’ll be sure to make the most of your visit.  We have a few hours before the start of the opera if you would like to see the menagerie.”

When Nico agreed, Will offered his arm and started down the path that led to the menagerie.  Asterion trotted beside them while Reyna and Hedge followed farther back.  Will talked about the menagerie’s history as they walked, explaining that it had began as a collection of animals bought by an old Dianan duke who loved to flaunt his wealth.  “The menagerie is much better than it used to be,” Will said as he paid a second donation to enter.  “Long ago, they used to stage fights between the animals for amusement—bears and elephants, tigers and leopards.  Their care improved after the animals were moved to Delphi, but the menagerie was still rather ill-equipped to house them.  It puts quite the stain on Delphi’s history, to say the least.  Thankfully, the Sorority has learned quite a bit about animals since then.  Once, menageries were for spectators to gawk at exotic animals in cages.  Now they are becoming more educational in nature.”

Nico slowed their pace as they walked in front of the tiger exhibit.  “It seems to me that we are spectators gawking at exotic animals,” he commented as he admired the tiger’s coat.

“Well...yes.  But we made a donation when we entered and that will fund research and improvements for the facilities.  The animals aren’t in cages, as you can see.  The enclosures are much better equipped than they once were.  The foliage mimics the natural environment of the tiger and offers coverage, should she wish to escape from the view of visitors.  The menagerie receives complaints about the animals not always being visible, but zoologists believe that it gives the animals a sense of safety and a degree of control over their environment.  There are still many problems to be addressed, but this is progress.”

“I suspect the Sorority has had a hand in these improvements?” Nico asked.

“Of course.  Menageries are improving all across the Romanus Terris.  Delphi’s menagerie is by no means the largest, but it is one of the best.  The animals are quite active.” Will gestured to the lion exhibit, where a cub was playfully nudging and pushing his sleeping brother.  Ultimately, he gave up and lay down next to him to nap.  “Delphi’s lioness had cubs not long ago.  It attracted a nice crowd of visitors who donated to finance the cubs’ care.  They are doing very well.  Of course, the lions tend to sleep until dusk—many of the animals are most active at dawn and dusk, so we don’t always get to see it.”

“You seem to know a lot about the menagerie,” Nico said.

“I spent the last two winters studying the animals’ health,” Will explained.  “I was here when the lioness had her cubs.”

“You delivered the cubs?”

“No, no, the lioness did the work,” he said.  “I was only there to ensure it went well.  Most animals don’t need help delivering.  But anyway, would you like to see the apes?  Delphi is particularly proud of its ape exhibit.”

They passed by the elephants and camels on their way and Nico listened as Will talked about them.  He was quite impressed by how much Will knew, but mostly he liked listening to Will.  He was serious but passionate and excited, and he didn’t seem to be anywhere close to exhausting the topic.  Nico suspected he could spend days talking about it.  Nico also suspected he could spend days listening to Will talk; he enjoyed the sound of Will’s voice.  His Dianan accent was stronger than usual, which Nico found endearing.  Asterion seemed very interested in the apes and Will babbled about the exhibit for such a long time that he only stopped when he realized that they had to hurry through the remainder of the menagerie to get to the opera house on time.

“Many sorors and consors favor the term ’zoological gardens’ over menagerie,” Will commented as they were walking.  “They say it more accurately reflects the educational purpose.”

“Then why do you call them ’menageries’?” Nico asked.  It seemed like a movement he would support.

Will looked sheepish.  “I like the way it sounds,” he admitted.

Nico laughed, but he liked the way Will said the word, too.  “Your accent is different here.  It sounds much more southern Juvian.”

“Does it?” Will asked with a curious expression.

“You usually have a much more Venadican way of speaking,” Nico explained.  “At least, on the occasions I’ve seen you.”

“I suppose my accent changes depending on who I have been around,” Will said thoughtfully.  “I had not noticed that.  It’s a pity that neither Venadican nor southern Juvian are particularly attractive accents.”

“I don’t think so,” Nico protested.  “I think your accent is charming.”

Will’s face turned pink.  Nico liked it.  Nico wanted to reach out and touch Will’s flushed cheeks.  Were they hot?  Were they soft?  They were probably soft.  Nico wanted to touch them.  Then pull Will’s face closer.  Then kiss him.  A lot.

Nico forced himself to stop his thoughts there.

“But like I was saying,” Will continued, still blushing.  “Learning about the animals has helped us find out how to improve their lives.  Tigers prefer to be alone, but elephants like to be in groups, for example.  We do the same with our livestock.”

“Then we will need to make a proper ranch in Divitia,” Nico said thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Will agreed.  “Divitia must be prepared for the cattle before our wedding.  There are few options of suitable breeds that we are considering.”

“They won’t be the same breed as your herd?” Nico asked in surprise.

“No, they would not do well in Pluto’s climate.”

“I had not thought of that,” Nico said.  “Your family has considered everything.”

“My family has quite the passion for ranching,” Will said.  “My aunt cares deeply for animals, as well; zoology is one of her concentrations, along with gynecology and ecology.  She has sped up the Sorority’s progress on zoological studies.  She told me that her mother’s ranch inspired her love for animals.”

Nico sighed, remembering how sad Will had looked the day before when he told Nico he would miss being in Phoebus for calving season.  “I wish that you didn’t have to be so far from it,” he mumbled.  “When we marry, I mean.”

Will only smiled.  “I will be happy in Divitia,” he said, just as he had the day before.

“Have you ever even been through a Pluton winter?” Nico asked.

“Once, about nine years ago.  I’ll admit it wasn’t pleasant, but I will learn to survive it.”

A few absurd thoughts about methods of keeping Will warm crossed through Nico’s mind.  He flushed.  “What animal is that?” Nico asked to distract himself, pointing to a sandy enclosure with a pond and a large reptile.

“A crocodile, Your Highness.  They are native to Aegyptia—wouldn’t do well in Pluto’s climate either, I’m afraid.  Austin loves crocodiles; they are his favorite animal.”

“Austin didn’t talk much yesterday,” Nico commented.  “You did say that he tends to be shy.”

“Only at first,” Will answered with a chuckle.  He stopped and said a few words to a soror at the exit of the menagerie as they left, but continued when they passed through the gates.  “Once Austin feels comfortable, he is just as loud as the rest of them.  Loud er, sometimes.  Austin is....” Will paused like he was searching for words.  “He feels very strong emotions.”

“Strong emotions?” Nico asked curiously.

“He’s very passionate,” Will said.  “It’s a good thing most of the time.  It’s why he is such a talented musician; he gets lost in the music.  When he’s happy, he’s a joy to be around.  He has a wonderful sense of humor—and a cleaner sense of humor than my older siblings.  Being a part of his family is...I don’t know how to explain it.  When Austin loves, he loves with his entire being.  Everything Austin does is loud and filled with emotion.  Unfortunately, that extends to his negative emotions, as well.”

“Such as...anger?” Nico asked.

Will shook his head.  “Oh, no,” he said quickly.  “Austin rarely gets angry.  No, I mean sadness.  Anxiety.  Stress.  He takes everything that happens to him to heart and he feels things so deeply that sometimes it overwhelms him.  He knows that he can sometimes experience things a bit differently than others do and he’s sensitive about it.  Last night Lee made a comment about Austin crying around the rabbit, if you recall.  That’s the sort of thing that might upset Austin, which is why Lee quickly assured him that he wasn’t teasing.  Austin tries to control it, but he can’t help the way he reacts to things.  I think he’s so quiet around strangers because afraid that his emotions burden people.  It’s not a burden, of course; I only wish he didn’t feel so much hurt.” Will sighed as they ascended the stairs to the opera house.  “Anyway, I’m sure you noticed that my family members tend to tease quite often.  It’s always for fun, never malicious, but we know it hurts Austin if we take it too far; we’ve all seen Austin break down at some point.  We take care of him—not so much that he feels singled out, but enough to let him know that we think the world of him.  Oh, the box is this way, Your Highness.  We ought to wait for Lady Reyna and Hedge so they can follow.”

Nico had nearly forgotten that Reyna and Hedge were with them; Reyna seemed to have been effective in reigning Hedge’s behavior.  She constantly reminded Hedge that chaperones and guards should be present, but not intrusive, and it appeared the lecture she had given him the day before had been effective—at least for the time being.

“Now Kayla, on the other hand,” Will said when Reyna and Hedge got close enough for them to continue walking.  “Kayla is a bit of trouble.”

Nico laughed.  Early that morning, Kayla had found Nico to excitedly flaunt her destroyed Paris doll.  She’d informed him that Menelaus had grown tired of Paris and murdered him in exchange for an apple.  The wooden doll had barely been recognizable, as she had smashed it to splinters using a hammer.  Nico had complimented Kayla on her thoroughness.

“A bit?” Nico teased, then mentally scolded himself.  He shouldn’t tease Will’s family, especially not so soon after meeting them.  He’d meant it as a joke, but if Will didn’t take it that way—

But Will chuckled.  “Alright, she’s a lot of trouble.  But so charming.”

“Yes, she is.  Rather like a certain charming young boy I’ve been hearing about recently.”

Will went scarlet.  “That...that wasn’t...it was all very exaggerated.”

“Was it really?  The portrait implied differently.”

“I...that...uh...Kayla,” Will stuttered as they reached their box.  “I was talking about Kayla.”

“Yes, tell me about Kayla,” Nico agreed.  The lights in the theater hadn’t been dimmed yet, to Nico’s disappointment.  He hadn’t forgotten his plan to get Will to kiss him in the dark.  However, he was pleased to see that Reyna and Hedge remained at the entrance of the box rather than coming in closer, and he didn’t mind when Asterion decided to lie next to him.

“Kayla is a bit of a terror,” Will said, letting Nico take a seat before joining him.  “It’s probably our fault for spoiling her so much, but we can’t help but favor her.  She never seems to run out of energy—thank the gods that Chiron is so patient.  When she’s not playing with her dolls or her blocks, she’s running around some place, usually causing trouble.  She loves to be outside and making a mess of her clothes—which, by the way, she loves.  She has quite the obsession with pretty dresses.  Unfortunately, she also has a tendency to ruin them after only a few wears, so she goes through dresses fairly quickly.  It doesn’t help that she keeps getting taller.”

“Hazel loves her dresses, as well,” Nico said with a chuckle.  “Not to the point of an obsession, but she is revolted by the idea of ever wearing breeches.  I have been trying to convince her that they are much more practical for fencing, but she will not listen.”

“That’s right, you were helping her learn to fence,” Will said, lowering his voice as the lights dimmed.  “Lee and Michael both enjoy archery and they have been pleading for Chiron to let them teach Kayla, but he hasn’t allowed it.  Kayla has shown a great deal of interest in the sport, but...well.  We are hesitant to give her sharp objects.”

“Understandable,” Nico replied in a whisper.  The crowd was growing quieter, but the orchestra was still playing the overture.  “Sometimes I worry Hazel is a little bit too happy to strike the training dummy—or me, when we spar.  I keep telling her she isn’t meant to stab, but she hasn’t listened.”

“I admit I know little about the sport, but I thought you were supposed to stab?” Will said, cocking his head to the side in a rather adorable display of confusion.  Nico wanted to kiss the subtle pout off his face.

“Well, yes, in the Juvian school of fencing,” Nico said, ignoring the voices in his head screaming for him to just grab Will and kiss him.  “The Plutonian school is different.  Hazel would probably prefer the Juvian school.”

“And which would you prefer, Your Highness?”

Nico thought for a moment.  Ordinarily, he would have immediately declared that the Juvian school was barbaric, but when Will asked, he was forced to admit that he had a great deal of respect for the style.  “I cannot say,” Nico eventually replied.  “I am comfortable with the Pluton school, but I don’t deny that the Juvian school intrigues me, as well.  But I think the show is about to start; we will talk more at intermission.”

Will agreed and turned to the stage, which offered Nico an opportunity to admire Will’s profile.  He stopped as soon as he realized he was doing it and turned to watch the performance. Rheae Fidelium—which was old Pluton for “Rhea the Faithful”—was a well-known opera about Rhea’s role in the war between the Titans and the Protogenoi.  It was not an uncommon topic; the war was a frequent subject in art and music, particularly Rhea’s role in it.  When the Protogenoi’s mutinous children rose up against them, Rhea was the only Titan who remained loyal.  The first act of the opera followed Rhea’s struggle with her conflicting allegiances to her parents and her husband.  It ended with the downfall of Ouranos solidifying her resolution to return to Gaea’s side.

Nico felt disappointed when the entr’acte began at intermission.  He had been too focused on the opera to get Will to kiss him.  The lights were raised between the acts, which made the atmosphere much less suitable for kissing.

Will, however, seemed delighted.  He asked Nico what he thought of the opera, then babbled about how much he loved it before leaning back in his seat, smiling, and saying something that shocked Nico.  “This opera house is where my father met my mother.”

Nico tried not to show his surprise.  “Your mother?”

“My birth mother,” Will clarified.  “Not my stepmother.  Daphne met my father at an arranged meeting, of course.”

“I see,” Nico said as he tried to organize his thoughts.  He was not sure how to respond; he did not mind that Will was natural-born, but usually such things were not mentioned in polite conversation.

“How did they meet?” Nico asked, pushing aside his astonishment.  Will was sharing a private story with him and Nico was honored to hear it.

“She was a singer,” Will said.  “My father always told me that he fell for her the instant he heard her voice.  After the performance, he asked to see her and they spent the rest of the day together around the park.  He went back to listen to her sing every day.”

“Was Daphne there?” Nico asked before he could restrain himself.

Will gave Nico a bashful smile.  “I was too nervous to ask,” he admitted.  “I’m not sure that either of them are willing to offer that information.”

“I did not mean to intrude—” Nico started.

“Not at all,” Will replied.  “I have no secrets from you, Your Highness.  Anything you wish to know, ask.”

Nico chewed the inside of his lip in thought for a brief moment, and then, before he could change his mind, he asked, “How did your stepmother react to your birth?”

“I don’t know what my father and stepmother’s relationship was like at the time,” Will admitted.  “I was my father’s first illegitimate child; I don’t know if she reacted differently to my birth than she did to Austin’s, but she accepted Austin into the family without question.”

“And what is her relationship with your father like now?” Nico asked, because he had been a bit confused the day before when Apollo was seated next to both his wife and his lover at dinner.  “I mean—you don’t have to answer that.”

“I don’t mind,” Will said.  “I am what I am, Your Highness, and there’s no point in being ashamed of that.”

“Of course, I didn’t mean to imply...I...I don’t mind.  That you’re natural-born.  It doesn’t matter to me—if you were worried, that is.”

Will’s smile was calm even though Nico’s hands were shaking.  “I didn’t think you would mind, but thank you for saying that.  As for my parents—my father and stepmother, that is—they don’t hate each other, but they don’t particularly get along, either.  My father married her because he fell in love, my stepmother accepted because of his wealth and influence.  I think....” Will stopped and cleared his throat.  “I’ve never told anyone this, but I think my father is still a bit in love with my stepmother.  I’ve always thought that he seems a bit sad after they fight.  I think my stepmother cares for him, too, in a way.  If you pay attention, you’ll start to see that she always seems to be looking out for him.  They are good parents.  Even if things between them aren’t quite right, they will work together for the family.”

“And what about Hyacinthus?” Nico asked.

“My father has a history of lovers,” Will said with a chuckle.  “He falls in love easily, but he has been quite monogamous to Hyacinth lately—apart from a few brief affairs, but he and Hyacinth don’t mind that.  Although, Hyacinth’s relationship with the Earl of Favonius has been going on for a few years now.  My father is a bit insecure about it; I think he’s afraid of losing Hyacinth.  Hyacinth is special to him.”

“Hyacinthus has another lover?”

“It’s confusing, I know,” Will said.  “Such is my father’s life.”

“But what about your birth mother?  What happened to her?”

Will sighed and folded his hands over his lap, looking less at ease and more artificially composed.  “She left,” Will answered.  “After she gave birth to me, she stayed as my wet nurse for a short time, and then she left.”

Nico nodded solemnly.  His own birth mother had also been his wet nurse, then she was a governess for both Nico and Bianca.  He remembered her fondly, despite being ignorant of their relationship as kin.  Will had not been given even that much.

“My father always told me that he was absolutely in love with her, but she had dreams that were too big for her to stay in one place for long,” Will continued.  “He said that she saw I would be cared for and left to continue singing.”

“And do you know where she is now?” Nico asked.

“No,” Will answered.  “I am not even sure that she is alive.  My father said that she was in a traveling act for a time, then he lost track of her.  She has never contacted since.”

“Have you tried to find her?”

Will shook his head.  “No.  I’ve never felt a need to.  She gave birth to me, she fed me, and those were the only roles we were meant to play in each other’s lives.  Daphne is my mother.  There are plenty of other women in my life who play that role, as well.  Perhaps it is cold or ungrateful of me to say this, but I don’t think I need her.  I am quite happy with the family I have.”

Nico wished he felt so at peace.  He considered Persephone to be his mother as much as Lady Maria, of course, but he felt dirtied whenever he thought about his illegitimacy.

I will tell him after we are married, Nico thought.  The King and Queen Consort had asked him to swear not to tell anyone, even Hazel, at least until she was older.  “It is a family secret,” they’d told him.  Nico had broken that promise twice: with Hestia and with Reyna, and only after asking for permission.  Truthfully, Nico hadn’t needed to be sworn to secrecy; he was too terrified of rejection to tell anyone.  He’d only told Hestia and Reyna because he trusted them to not judge him or leave him.

Nico knew he could trust Will with that secret, yet he still felt afraid.  Will was natural-born; it wouldn’t matter to him, would it?  Nico decided that he would wait until after the wedding.  When Nico married, Will would become part of the Pluton royal family.  Then Nico could tell him.

And if it did disgust Will, by then it would be too late for him to leave Nico.

“My brother Austin receives letters from his mother,” Will suddenly said.  “It was almost the same story: our father heard her compositions and went to meet her, then instantly fell in love.  Like my birth mother, she had dreams that were too big to be contained by one city, so she left after ensuring Austin would be cared for.  But for some reason, she stayed in contact even though my mother did not.”

When Nico turned to look at him, Will’s head was tilted to the side and he was frowning like he was trying to solve a difficult problem.  Impulsively, Nico reached out and put his hand on top of Will’s.  Will glanced at their hands in surprise, but he didn’t make any move to pull away.

“I don’t mean to complain,” Will said, offering Nico a smile.  “But I do admit, as a child, it was...confusing when Austin received letters but I did not.  But perhaps my mother was unable to.  Perhaps she is not even alive.  Perhaps we were simply not meant to have a relationship.  Whatever the case, I’m happy with my family.  I feel very blessed to have them.”

“I imagine that you must have questions,” Nico said slowly, struggling to find the right words.  “You were not left with many answers.”

“One thing that I have learned as a student in Venadica is that some questions will not be answered in my lifetime, others will never be answered, and still more should remain unanswered, at least until we are ready for the consequences that come along with that knowledge.  This is something I must simply accept.”

Nico looked down and saw that his hand was still on top of Will’s.  He had no desire to move it.

“Well, I...I think that she’s certainly made a poor choice, if she is alive.  She should know what a fine young man you’ve grown into.  I’d imagine everyone’s life could be a bit better with you in it.”

Will didn’t say anything, but when Nico looked up, Will was staring at him with a gaze so intense that it held him captive.  He looked handsome.  With the freckles splashed across his cheeks, his untamable curls of blond, and the soft, subtle part of his lips, just glancing at him made Nico nervous and excited.  Then there was the tender look in Will’s eyes: a soft but passionate depth that made Nico feel like his heart was going to burst.

Will had no idea what effect he had on Nico; that much was obvious.  Nico had once assumed that Will knew exactly how charming he was, but as he had gotten to know Will by watching his behavior and carefully reading over his letters, he had begun to realize that Will was not only sincere, but also was tragically unaware of how hard he’d made Nico fall for him.  It was so frustrating to know that even when Will looked at him like that, it meant absolutely nothing.  Will wasn’t trying to send Nico a secret message and he wasn’t trying to entice Nico.  Will really was just looking at him.  And yet, the things that simple look did to Nico....

He wanted to kiss Will.  Will was so close, just inches away.  Nico wanted to lift their joined hands and kiss Will’s fingers.  He could easily lean over and press his lips against Will’s cheek.  No one would be looking at their box.  It would be so easy, and it would feel so nice.

Nico suddenly recalled a thought he’d had when he’d first been introduced to Will in Divitia, before their betrothal had even been decided.  He’d thought that Will’s appearance was adequate, but nothing special, and had decided that was good; a terribly attractive suitor would have made him feel nervous and caused him to make a fool of himself.

How had he thought Will’s appearance was merely adequate at the time?  Had Nico not looked hard enough?  Had Will changed as he’d grown over the last year?  Perhaps Nico had simply been blind to it until Will had woven into his heart and opened his eyes.

And yes: as Nico had predicted, having a terribly attractive suitor did indeed cause him to make a complete fool of himself.  He thought about Will every day, sometimes sitting alone and making up fantasies in his head for hours on end.  He’d embarrassed himself on more than one occasion by revealing his enthusiasm for one of Will’s newly arrived letters in front of an audience.  He blushed and stuttered when he was supposed to be calm and poised.  His mind was muddled by rosy clouds whenever he spoke to Will.  And then there was Nico’s obscene desire to touch—no, his need to touch.  There was a persistent voice in Nico’s mind demanding constant physical contact, and even when there was physical contact, it demanded more.   Now touch him with both hands, it would say.   Hold him more tightly.  Step closer. Touch his face. Touch his neck.  Kiss him.

Nico tried not to listen to that voice, but it was too compelling to resist at times.  He couldn’t take his hand away from where it rested upon Will’s.  Even when the next act of the opera began, Nico hadn’t bothered to move it.  His hands felt like they were sweating and shaking and he wanted to adjust his hold, but he was afraid that even the smallest movement would mean the end of that static touch.

He found himself unable to follow the opera over the commands in his head for more Will.  He could move a bit closer.  He could entangle his fingers with Will’s.  He could lean over and use Will’s shoulder as a pillow.  He could kiss Will.  Gods, he wanted to kiss Will—but Nico couldn’t do that, no.  That would be far too brazen for a prince.

Nico gave in to one of the least scandalous impulses and shifted his hand to link his fingers with Will’s.  It felt better that way.  Nico liked how their hands fit together.

He caught Will glancing at him and immediately looked away, not wanting Will to know exactly how much he’d been staring.  He embarrassed himself enough around Will as it was.  It would be nice to preserve at least some of his dignity.  If he suddenly kissed Will, he would seem horribly unrefined; he had to somehow manage to get Will to do it instead.  Will always behaved perfectly; why couldn’t Nico be more like that?

But there had been a few times that Will had breached the rules of etiquette.  The first had been at the beginning of their initial arranged marriage meeting, when Will had nudged Nico’s foot with his own.  Why hadn’t Will done anything like that again?  Why was it that the only touch Will ever initiated was when he offered his arm to escort Nico?  Had Will tired of him?

Nico squeezed Will’s hand without meaning to.  Will’s eyes, which had drifted to the performance again, snapped back to look at him.  Nico smiled before quickly looking away, too nervous to use it as an opportunity to get Will to kiss him.

Nico knew that his fears were groundless.  Will wouldn’t initiate touch because Nico was a prince, simple as that.  Any rare moments when Will had breached that social norm had been exceptions to Will’s usual gentlemanly behavior.  However, knowing that Will occasionally acted on impulse gave Nico hope.  Perhaps if Nico managed to catch Will off guard, Will would be so overcome with his desire to kiss Nico that he would just do it.

That was what Nico had been counting on the day before.  He’d said such nice things to Will, he’d complimented Will’s appearance, he’d even touched Will’s hand and arm far more than etiquette required.  He had even touched Will’s ankle at dinner, futilely hoping that it would remind Will of the way he’d touched Nico’s at their first marriage consultation and then ignite such a passion in Will that he had to kiss Nico.

All Nico’s hard work had been in vain; Will had not seemed to understand Nico’s intentions at all.  Perhaps if Nico pushed him a bit more, he would finally figure out what Nico wanted.  Of course, Nico would have to find a way to keep Reyna and Hedge distracted.

However, this was all based on the assumption that Will wanted to kiss him.  It was entirely possible that Will simply had no desire to do so, but Nico thought that was unlikely.  After all, Will’s family had quite clearly alluded to Will’s long-lasting admiration of Nico the evening before.  Nico simply hadn’t pushed Will hard enough yet.  If Nico kept trying, Will was bound to understand at some point, wasn’t he?

The opera ended before Nico managed to find the courage to do anything more than hold Will’s hand.  Perhaps it was a good thing; if Will liked the opera so much, Nico didn’t want to distract him from it.  Unfortunately, Nico had been quite distracted as a result of Will’s mere presence and had missed much of the second act.

“Would you like to rent a supper box?” Will asked once they managed to get back outside.  He’d enthused about the opera until they’d managed to get through the crowd and leave the opera house.

Nico hadn’t realized how hungry he was until Will asked, so he agreed.  There was a dining area a short distance away with a row of individual supper boxes available to rent as well as tables across the green.  Will made their orders and they were directed to a box where they sat to wait for their food.  The supper box wasn’t much different from a box in an opera house, except it was outside; it was large enough to serve a group and opened to look out at the gardens, but still private.  Nico spotted Reyna and Hedge standing an acceptable distance away, and noted with satisfaction that Reyna was still keeping Hedge under control.

“Tell me more about your two eldest siblings,” Nico said.  “You haven’t spoken about them yet.”

“Three eldest, if you’ll pardon me saying so,” Will corrected.  “I consider Lou Ellen my sibling as much as the rest of them.”

“Three eldest, then.  Tell me about them.”

“They are practically inseparable,” Will began.  “Lee and Lou Ellen first got to know each other through letters while the arrangements were discussed.  Closer to the wedding, Lou Ellen traveled here for a visit so they could meet in person for the first time.  They had become friends through their letters and quickly connected in person, as well.  Michael, though—he was less than welcoming to Lou Ellen.”

“Is that so?  But I thought they got along well?”

“They do now, but I think Michael was afraid of losing Lee.  They have always been so close.  Michael, I think, was a bit jealous that someone else was stealing our brother away from him.”

“How did they ever become friends?”

“Oh, it didn’t take long.  Lou Ellen has quite the sense of humor; Michael wasn’t able to hold out against her.  Now they’re quite the trio.  Lee and Lou Ellen are deliriously in love, Lee and Michael are as close as brothers can be, and Michael and Lou Ellen are practically a pair of criminals, given the trouble they cause together.” Will paused as a waiter arrived with their food.  Nico was surprised at how fast it had been, but Will explained that they only served foods that were made in advance and quickly prepared, such as bread and cold cuts.

Will continued to talk about his family while they ate and Nico listened, occasionally tossing a cold cut in Asterion’s direction and ignoring Reyna’s disappointed glares.  Will looked happy when Nico asked questions and took interest in what he was saying.  “You must love your family very much,” Nico commented.

Smiling broadly, Will said, “Yes, Your Highness.  I’m very fortunate to have them.”

Nico took a deep breath before saying, “I hope that you’ll find something like that in my family, as well.” Really, he hoped that alluding to their marriage would spur Will into declaring his boundless affections before sweeping Nico into a kiss.

“As do I.  I’m quite excited to be a part of your family, Your Highness.”

Caught completely off guard by the warm hearted answer, Nico blushed and stuttered a vague reply instead of thinking of a way to steer Will towards kissing him.  At the rate he was going, it might be less detrimental to Nico’s pride to actually kiss Will rather than continue his blatant attempts to lure Will into doing it instead.  But Nico had committed himself to this particular course of action, and once he set his mind on something, he didn’t let go.  No, Will had to be the one to do the kissing.  Nico just had to figure out the right places to push to get Will to do it.

By the time they finished eating, the day was approaching dusk.  They were chatting and looking out at the gardens from their box when Nico noticed a hedge maze and started plotting again.

“The maze appears to be popular with couples,” Nico noted casually, having seen several pairs enter and exit.  He looked at Will out of the corner of his eye to gauge Will’s reaction.

Will flushed.  “It...um...yes.  It is.”

Nico waited a second longer, but when Will said nothing more, he tried to push harder.   “We are a couple,” he said.  “Shall we go there?”

Will looked embarrassed.  “I...um...” he began hesitantly.  “Well, I...I don’t think that Hedge and Lady Reyna would approve of Your Highness going there alone with me.”

Nico hummed and looked at the maze in thought.  It seemed likely that they wouldn’t be the first pair to hide from chaperones in the maze.  If he and Will could manage to to escape from Reyna and Hedge, they could go in there, all alone, in the dark, where no one would see them.  And then, Nico would finally get Will to kiss him.

His decision made, Nico said, “I don’t see why they should be notified.  Let’s go there a bit later, after we find a moment to slip away.”

Will looked alarmed.  “Slip away?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to go in the maze with me?” Nico asked, knowing fully well that the answer was yes.  Of course Will wanted to spend time with him; Will told him that often enough, didn’t he?

When Will nodded, Nico bent his head closer and lowered his voice.  “Good.  Then we’ll make an escape and run for the maze.”

“Now I only wonder who will have my head first,” Will sighed.  “Hedge or Lady Reyna?”

Nico clucked his tongue.  “There will be no decapitation,” he said with finality.  Strict as they were, Hedge and Reyna still obeyed Nico’s orders, and Nico would allow no maiming to Will’s body.  Nico preferred for Will’s rather attractive neck to be intact.  “You mentioned that there would be fireworks.  That will be a good time to lose them.  We’ll slip into the crowd and they won’t be able to find us in the dark.”

“I get the sense that this is a very bad idea,” Will said.

“Nonsense, it’s a brilliant idea.  I want to go to the maze with you.  It’ll be exciting, won’t it?”

“Well...exciting is one word for it.”

“Please, Will?  It would make me so happy.”

Will sighed and rubbed his temple.  “Alright, yes.  When everyone starts to gather for the fireworks.”

Nico was shocked when his plan worked.  He had been expecting for it to go wrong—most of his attempts to get close to Will ended in failure—but when the sun set, they managed to escape.  A crowd shuffled around as visitors tried to find a spot with a good view, but Nico grabbed Will’s arm and hurried to the maze.  Thankfully, Reyna’s maintenance of an acceptable distance away had allowed them to get separated in the crowd.  They didn’t lose Asterion, of course.  It was probably good that Asterion hadn’t ended up with Reyna and Hedge; they could have used Asterion to track Nico.  Although he hadn’t been trained to hunt, Nico had trained him to do some basic tracking.  Unfortunately, Reyna had used that against him a few times in the past when Nico made the mistake of not bringing Asterion with him when he was hiding from his communication lessons.  Besides, Nico liked having Asterion around.

Although Nico was delighted, Will still seemed nervous when they entered the maze.  Nico even began to wonder if it had been a good idea after all; if Will was uncomfortable, he would never kiss Nico.  “Have you gone through this maze before?” Nico asked, hoping to lighten Will’s mood.

“A few times, Your Highness.  Austin and I got lost in here once when we were younger.  It wasn’t a pleasant experience, but I’ve gone through since then.”

Nico thought that it wouldn’t be so bad to get lost in the maze with Will.  He almost said that out loud, but he lost the courage.  “You will enjoy it this time,” he said instead.

“Of course I will; I always enjoy being with you.”

Nico almost tripped over a root in his surprise.  How did Will find the courage to talk like that?  Were Nico’s nerves just strange?

“Yes, also, for me, as well,” Nico said in an attempt to give some affectionate reply.  The sky was quickly getting dark, which only added to Nico’s excitement and put him more on edge.  “In fact, I think it wouldn’t be so bad to get lost,” he added, and then he suddenly didn’t know how to stop talking and kept rambling.  “In the maze.  With you.  And Asterion, of course, because Asterion is here and...but I mean, I would like to be with you here even if Asterion were not here.  That’s not to say that that I’m hoping to get lost, of course.  Just that it wouldn’t be such a bad stroke of luck, as a result of...uh...being with you.”

Nico finally managed to bite his tongue and stop himself from going further.  It was difficult to judge Will’s expression in the dark.  There was a beat of silence, and then Will said, “I...I agree.  It wouldn’t be so bad.”

They were saved from the awkward pause that followed by the sudden bang of fireworks, and then Asterion panicked and took off running.  “Asterion!” Nico called in surprise, cursing himself for forgetting that his dog didn’t like fireworks.  He ran in the direction Asterion had disappeared with Will following close behind.  They reached a divide in the path and Nico said, “I’ll go left.” Will voiced his agreement and they separated.

It didn’t take long for Nico to realize his mistake.  Getting lost in a maze with his fiancé?  Good.  Getting lost in a maze alone?  Bad.

He called out for Asterion loudly, feeling much better when he heard Will call for him, as well.  But it had been foolish of him to forget about Asterion’s sensitivity.  No dogs enjoyed fireworks and Asterion startled particularly easily.  Nico had been too focused on finding ways to get Will to kiss him to think about Asterion.

Nico tried to calm himself with assurances that Asterion would be alright.  He was smart enough to find his way back to Nico; Nico had trained him.  But the anxiety of being alone in the dark maze with no idea how to get out added to the stress of losing his dog was overwhelming.  He nearly crumpled helplessly on the ground, but his panic outweighed his hopelessness and kept him moving.  He had lost Asterion before.  He couldn’t lose Asterion again.

It wasn’t long before he heard Will’s voice again, this time calling for him instead of Asterion.  “Will?” Nico shouted back, and he had to repeat himself when his voice was drowned out by the fireworks.

Will’s voice replied, and Nico was able to pick out the words “I have him” over the noise.  He sighed in relief, reminding himself that his panic was pointless and that Asterion was safe.  He still sometimes had to reassure himself of that.

“I’m coming,” Nico called as he started walking in the direction of Will’s voice.  He struggled to remember exactly where he had turned in his hurry, but Will’s voice, always so gentle and calming, kept calling to him to remind him what direction to go.  He reached the divide they had parted at quickly and it appeared that Will hadn’t had to run far to catch Asterion.  Nico found Will sitting in the light of the fireworks with Asterion half on his lap, holding Asterion’s head against his chest and covering his ears.

“Praise the gods,” Nico said, deflating on the ground next to Will.  He reached out to pet Asterion, smiling when the dog’s droopy eyes turned to look at him.  “I forgot how much he hates fireworks.”

“We’ve got him now,” Will said comfortingly.  “He’ll be alright once he calms down.”

Sighing, Nico leaned back on his hands to watch the fireworks in the night sky.  Asterion would be safe in Will’s arms.  He could trust Will with Asterion.  He could probably trust Will with anything.

When Nico glanced over, he caught Will looking at him and offered a smile.  When Will smiled back, the fireworks illuminated the pretty lines of his face.  Nico found himself more interested in the way the light looked on Will than in the fireworks themselves and was so mesmerized that he just watched Will during the finale.  Will watched him, too.

“Will?” Nico whispered when the finale was over and the sky became dark and silent again.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“I think we’re lost.”

Will’s laugh made Nico feel warm.  He couldn’t stop himself from laughing with him.

“Lady Reyna and Hedge are going to string me up by my ears and drag me behind the carriage on the way back,” Will sighed, but he sounded amused rather than panicked.

“No, Hedge will string you up by your ears,” Nico corrected.  “Reyna will be too busy stringing me up by mine.”

“She’s really that strict?”

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Nico replied.  “But she likes me.  Sometimes I manage to win her over after I’ve been particularly troublesome.  This time, though...she is not going to be pleased.”

Will laughed.  “Well, at least we are lost together.”

Nico saw Will’s silhouette releasing Asterion in the dark.  “Thank you for finding him,” Nico said.

“I simply happened to run in the right direction,” Will said.  He got to his feet and offered Nico his hand to help him up.  Nico considered kissing Will in thanks, but his pride demanded that the first kiss must be from Will.  “Shall we try to find our way out?”

Nico sighed, but agreed and took Will’s arm.  “Asterion likes you,” he said.  “You care for him very well.”

“I do my best, Your Highness.”

“You are going to be a very good husband,” Nico said automatically.  He could barely see Will in the dark, but Will was definitely looking at him and he appeared not to know what to say.  It occurred to Nico that although he said that quite often, he didn’t say it in front of Will.  “I think that I’m very fortunate,” he continued.

Will was quiet for a few seconds, long enough for Nico to worry he’d said something wrong.  But then he said, “I admire you, Your Highness.  I always have.  I suspect I always will.”

Nico could have melted on the spot.  He wanted to tell Will that he admired him, too, but he couldn’t form the right words to express it.  The feelings he had for Will overwhelmed him and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them or how to convey them.  A part of Nico just wanted to hold Will tightly and never let go.

“I’m flattered,” Nico stammered.  He wanted to stop talking, but he couldn’t keep himself from rambling on.  “I...um...I like when you say things like that.  I’m glad you feel that way.  I mean, uh, I also think highly of you, and I’m very flattered and...uh...I feel glad that you’re...um...with me.  Engaged.”

Nico wanted to sink into the hedges and hide until his mortification passed.  He hated the way he couldn’t shut himself up when he got too excited or angry or nervous.  He always ended up embarrassing himself.

“I’m also glad,” Will said.  Nothing in his voice suggested that he thought Nico had said anything strange at all.  “When my aunt first approached me with the idea of courting you, I...well, I hadn’t bothered to hope for even a friendship with someone like you.” Will faltered for a second before saying, “I never forgot you.  When we were introduced as children, it was a special moment for me—of course, my brothers already told you that much.  So when I learned that I would meet you again...well, I was terrified when I met you again in Divitia last year.”

His embarrassment receding, Nico mentally celebrated.  He hadn’t gotten Will to kiss him yet, but he had gotten Will to ramble about how much he liked him.

“I didn’t know,” Nico said once he was confident that he wouldn’t trip over his own tongue.  “You seemed so composed that I almost didn’t know what to think of you.  You were all politeness and kindness and proper etiquette.”

“I wanted to impress you,” Will replied.

“You did.”

“And do I still impress, Your Highness?”

Nico was surprised by how easily he smiled at Will and said, “Yes.  You do.”

Nico reaffirmed his grip on Will’s arm, fighting his desire to stand closer.  It was brazen enough that they were alone in the dark, far away and hidden from sight.  He should not behave so shamelessly.

Yet Nico’s hand slipped down Will’s arm and he laced his fingers with Will’s.  It was more intimate that way; not quite scandalous, but deviant enough that Reyna would have raised her eyebrow and given him a warning glance.

In the dark, Nico was just barely able to see Will looking at their joined hands in surprise.  The reaction made Nico second guess himself, so he asked, “Would you like to walk like this for a while?”

“I...yes, I would,” Will said.  Nico suspected he was blushing; it was regrettable that he wasn’t able to see it.  The maze was dark.  Only the moon and stars and the far away glow of gas lamps lit the path before them.  Nico and Will were alone, without a chaperone, late at night, and Nico had just initiated a rather intimate gesture.

So maybe it was a bit scandalous.

Nico wet his lips.  He did not find anything wrong with what he was doing; deviant, yes, and perhaps inappropriate, but not wrong.   In fact, he liked it.  He enjoyed being so alone with Will, touching Will’s hand, and being hidden by the tall hedges and the cover of darkness.  It was scandalous, true, but that only gave Nico a small rush of excitement.  Reyna and Hedge would lecture him for running off without them, but it was well worth the chance to be alone with Will, away from prying eyes, the way married couples were allowed to be.  Nico could act however he wanted with Will, so long as Will did not mind.  He could kiss Will, if he wanted.

He did want.

It was a good time to do it; after all, no one would be there to witness it.  The kiss would be a secret between Will and Nico.  And it had to be soon; Asterion would be able to lead them out of the maze with his sense of smell and then Nico would lose the opportunity.  But how?  Even though Nico had been so obvious in his attempts to get Will to kiss him so far, he had been unsuccessful.  Will had just professed his long-lived admiration for Nico, and he still hadn’t done it.

Perhaps Will required a more direct approach.  Nico could just tell Will to kiss him.  It was embarrassing, but it could work as a desperate last resort.  That way, he could transfer the authority of the kissing to his fiancé without subjecting himself to committing such a scandalous act.

“You may kiss me,” Nico said before he could become too nervous to do so.  He tried very hard to keep his hands from shaking and to exude a sense of confidence.

There was a beat of silence, and then: “Your Highness?”

Nico’s confidence started to crumble immediately, but he attempted to maintain his composure.  He stopped walking and turned to look at Will.  He couldn’t see much more than the outline of his face.  “Uh—I mean, if you would like to.  Kiss me, that is.  You may do so.”

“Oh,” Will said.  “I.  Um, yes.  I would like to.  If you would like it, as well.”

Nico almost sighed in relief, but he did his best to keep his demeanor suitably indifferent.  “Well, you are permitted.”

He heard Will clear his throat.  “But...would you like me to...?”

Nico did his best to keep his frustration under control, but said, “I—Lord William, I would not have given you permission if I found the idea less than appealing.”

“So...you want me to?”

“Oh, for the love of Rhea!  I order you to kiss me.”

“Right, of course.  Then, if you don’t mind, um....”

Will’s face came closer.  Nico tilted his chin up expectantly, then closed his eyes when he felt Will’s breath against his lips.   Finally!   screamed a voice in his head.  He had been waiting for months with absolutely no progress, and now—at last—he was about to succeed.  But for a moment, Will merely stood there and Nico began to wonder if something had gone wrong.  Then the moment passed and Will closed the gap between them.

The kiss was quick.  Will pecked Nico’s lips and then drew back immediately, fixing his gaze on his shoes.  It felt nice, though.  Annoying, as well, because although Nico’s knowledge about kissing was lacking, he felt sure that Will hadn’t done it properly.  Even still, it was nice.  Will had kissed him shyly and bashfully and Nico thought that it was very like Will to kiss like that.  Even if it had been mildly annoying, Nico wouldn’t have liked it any other way.

“Was that alright?” Will asked.

“Yes,” Nico answered quickly, his voice coming out more squeaky than he expected.  “It was very nice.”

“I, um, also enjoyed it.”

Nico cleared his throat.  “Would you like to do it again?”

“Oh, uh, now?”

“If you would like.”

“And...would you like...?”

“Yes.”

“Right.  Then I’ll....” Will pressed his lips against Nico’s a second time.  It was still brief, lasting less than a second, but it made Nico happy, anyway.

“Another?” Nico asked impulsively.

“Now?”

“Now.  If you’d like.”

“Yes.”

And Will kissed him again.  That time, Nico stopped him from drawing back.

“Keep going,” Nico said, pulling Will closer.  “Don’t stop until you want to.”

Will cleared his throat.  “But...what if I want to never stop?”

“Well...perhaps I want you to never stop.”

“We have to stop at some point.”

“Yes.  At some point.”

And Will kissed him a fourth time, and then a fifth time, and then Nico kissed Will, and then he stopped counting.  To his relief, kissing wasn’t very difficult.  They were learning quickly.  It felt nice; not as dramatic as he had been hoping for, but not disappointing by any means.  The kisses were soft and gentle, just like Will, and Nico concluded that kisses were good that way, too.

Nico would have gladly spent the next several hours practicing with Will, but he knew that Reyna would find particularly brutal ways of punishing him if he made her wait that long.  He could have survived it, but he would not survive the mortification Hedge would put him through if he started lecturing Will again.  Reyna might not be forgiving enough to stop him.

“Perhaps another time when we are alone this way, we can do this again,” Nico suggested, leaning his forehead against Will’s.

“I would like that.”

Nico grinned when he heard the smile in Will’s voice.  “As would I.”

Reyna and Hedge were not pleased.  Nico didn’t particularly care.

It had taken them a while after that to find their way out, even with Asterion’s nose helping them.  Reyna and Hedge had apparently figured out where they had gone at some point, because they were waiting furiously at the exit.  Reyna, who would have usually saved Nico’s lecture for when they were without company, wasted no time scolding him in front of Will.  Nico ignored her.  Hedge tried to scold Will, but Reyna, apparently too angry to tolerate it, shut him up with the reminder that she was the chaperone.  Hedge apparently found her very convincing.

Reyna didn’t stop lecturing him in the carriage, but Nico occupied himself with gazing at Will’s profile instead of listening to her, then he pretended to fall asleep on Will’s shoulder when she started to annoy him.  Eventually, he really did fall asleep on Will’s shoulder.  By the time they got back to Phoebus and Will gently woke him up, Reyna had finally stopped.

The Sun Palace was wide awake despite the late hour.  When the door was opened for them, they were greeted by complete chaos.  The floor of the entrance hall was coated with mud.  An entire herd of pigs—one of them ridden by Kayla—stampeded across the hall and down the corridor.  Apollo and Hyacinthus were arguing about something in a room close by and horrible screeches of a violin came from down the corridor.  Nico heard Chiron yelling at someone not to run indoors, and he found out whom when Michael and Lou Ellen raced through the hall after Kayla and the pigs.  “Don’t tell Lee!” they shouted in unison when they saw Will and Nico at the door.  Meanwhile, Daphne was leaning against the bannister of the staircase, sipping a glass of wine and watching the scene in amusement.  She offered them a wave, which Nico weakly returned.

“Don’t worry; this is normal,” Will sighed in resignation, then he navigated around the mud to escort Nico to his room.

The scene distracted Reyna’s rage for a little while, but as soon as they reached Nico’s room and were left alone inside, she and Hedge wasted no time resuming their lecture.

“Do you expect me to let this pass, Your Highness?” Reyna demanded when Nico suggested they leave to let him sleep.  “I have been lenient as of late, but this was too far.”

“Your Highness, you can’t sneak off like that,” Hedge said.  “I say this for your safety.”

Nico sighed.  “We were in Delphi, Hedge.  What harm could possibly be done in Delphi?”

“Anything could go wrong anywhere, with anyone,” Hedge growled.

“Will wouldn’t hurt me—”

“I’m not talking about Lord Solace hurting you.  I’m saying that you were far away from us in some dark maze where anyone could have been hiding.”

“We didn’t even know where you were,” Reyna added.

“Don’t forget the reason I was assigned to you in the first place, Your Highness,” Hedge said.

Nico looked at his feet.  No, he hadn’t forgotten the attempt on his life that had caused Hades to give Nico his own personal guard unit.  He still had the occasional nightmare about it.

“I...I had Asterion with me,” Nico tried to reason.

“Asterion isn’t a fighter,” Reyna said.  “I don’t doubt that he’d do his best to protect you, but I fear that there’s not much more he’d be able to do than alert us.  The same goes for Lord William.”

“And we would’ve been too far away to help,” Hedge said.  “Pluto can’t lose you, Your Highness.  Please don’t be so reckless.”

Nico sighed.  “I understand,” he relented.  “I’ll do better in the future.”

“And you can’t sneak off alone with that boy!” Hedge added aggressively.

“That was extremely inappropriate behavior,” Reyna said.  “I agree with Hedge this time.”

“Now you’re just being overbearing,” Nico sniffed.  “And anyway, Will and I had a wonderful time together.”

“That is precisely what we are afraid of, Your Highness,” Reyna said.

Nico lifted his chin smugly and grinned.  Reyna’s eyes narrowed.  “What did you do?” she asked.

“I kissed him,” Nico said proudly.

Reyna stared at him.  “You what?”

“I kissed Lord William,” Nico repeated.  “Or, more accurately, he kissed me—”

“He what?” Hedge demanded.

“Because I gave him permission, of course—”

“You what?” they both said in unison.

“Oh, calm yourselves.  You were engaged once, Lady Reyna; didn’t you ever sneak off with your fiancé?  Actually, I’m better off not knowing.”

Reyna didn’t even react to Nico’s goading.  “Your Highness, be sensible.  You, an unwed young man of considerable standing, snuck away from us late at night, in an unfamiliar location, to spend time alone with another unwed man, and now you tell me that he kissed you during this time?”

Hedge punched his palm aggressively, like he was imagining beating Will to a pulp.  “I must speak with Lord Solace about this; that was grossly inappropriate behavior and—”

“I asked him to kiss me,” Nico said with a roll of his eyes.  “He was the perfect gentleman.”

“You asked him to kiss you?” Reyna demanded.

“I really don’t see the problem, Lady Reyna,” Nico said with a frown.

“The problem, Your Highness, is that I have utterly failed as your chaperone!  There’s no telling what depths of trouble I’ll be in when we return to the Palatium de Divitae!”

“Well, why should anyone have to know?” Nico asked.

“Do you suggest we lie, Your Highness?” asked Hedge.

“I’m only suggesting you omit certain elements of the account.  No one saw.” Nico paused and fiddled nervously with the trim on his coat.  “And I’m happy, very happy,” he admitted.  “Please don’t tell.”

Reyna and Hedge exchanged a glance.  After a moment, they both sighed, apparently having come to an agreement.  “If it makes you so happy, then we will allow it to pass this time,” Reyna said.  “Do not expect me to continue to be so generous.  Please use more discretion in the future and take care not to let your courting schemes get in the way of your safety.”

“Of course,” Nico said, but he had no intention of doing so.  In fact, he was already plotting the next time he’d sneak Will away for a kiss or two.

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