#he probably wasn’t even there for the first docking of Shadow’s long tail

[totaleclipse573]

Giving Doleon a long tail was a good idea actually because like. Doleon, Eclipse and Terios all have long tails. Where’s yours Shadow. How come your tail is like a normal hedgehog’s tail Shadow. That doesn’t really add up Shadow. What’s up with that…..👀👀

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 11 - The Honeymoon (Part 3)

Masterpost

Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: You and Neuvillette have a fun time in Merusea Village Warnings: None except for the fact that this story is 50% written based on vibes Note: This chapter is 13k words long so yeah, strap in Note 2: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask

Have a pic of Neuvillette hanging out in Merusea Village

Previous | Next

 “Madame, are you feeling alright? Please let me know if we need to stop the boat somewhere for a short rest.”  

“I assure you, I’m fine. I stopped feeling nauseous a long time ago. The boat has been moving very smoothly so far.”  

Despite your repeated assurances, Neuvillette still looked slightly doubtful. He was probably going to ask this question again later.  

After lunch, Neuvillette took you to a small dock to the south of the willow tree, where there was a small, inconspicuous boat waiting to take you two to Elynas, where Merusea Village was located. The vishap had followed you and saw you off.   

Queasiness took hold of you once you got onto this boat. It was probably because you just had lunch. Luckily, the boat wasn’t going too fast. You suspected that it was on purpose.  

You glanced up at Neuvillette. Like the rowboat at the tree, this boat was smoothly cutting through the water of its own accord. You didn’t hear a motor, nor was there anyone at the wheel.   

Leaning back against the cushions of the seat that Neuvillette made you sit on after you first mentioned your dizziness, you closed your eyes. The warm sunlight felt like a comforting blanket despite being filtered through clouds, and the refreshing sea breeze stroked the hair at your nape like gentle fingers. The boat’s steady rocking was soothing, almost hypnotic. Ah, this is heaven. I’ve been missing out.   

The cry of a seabird near your ear caused you to open your eyes. You saw Neuvillette standing at the bow. His long snow-white hair was fluttering in the wind, along with his coat tails. He had his cup in his hand, no doubt filled with water. You couldn’t see his expression from here, but judging from the relaxed set of his shoulders, he was also enjoying himself.  

In another life, Neuvillette would make a fine ship captain, you idly thought as you observed his stately, erect figure. He certainly had the bearing of one. Or what you imagined a captain would be like from the various novels and books you read.   

Your fingers itched to paint him. You were already thinking about the composition and colors. This was strange. Usually, you didn’t really enjoy painting people. You didn’t even like doing self-portraits. Landscapes and buildings were more to your taste.   

As though sensing your gaze, Neuvillette turned around and looked at you. “We will be reaching Elynas in about an hour or so. Please, relax until then, Madame. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”  

“I am. Please stop asking,” you said firmly and resolutely fixed your gaze ahead. The sharp peaks of Elynas were still just a faint dot in the distance. You could see the shadows of ships gliding on the water. What would their passengers think if they saw the Chief Justice standing in this small, inconspicuous boat?  

You turned your head back in the direction of Erinnyes. All you could see now was the shoreline and verdant trees. It was as though that giant willow tree and vishap never existed in the first place. Like it was all a dream.   

The seat next to you sank down with Neuvillette’s weight. “Did you have fun at Erinnyes?”  

“Oh, I did!” you turned to him with a broad smile. Perhaps it was just your imagination, but you thought his pupils dilated slightly. “It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever been to. It’s so… so mystical. I wish we could have stayed longer.”  

Neuvillette let out a little chuckle. He put his hand to his mouth, as though to hide his expression. “I’m very glad to hear that. I hope the vishap didn’t spoil your mood.”  

“Not at all,” you shook your head. “I was a little scared at first, sure, but she was actually very gentle. I did assume there would be more vishaps around, though.”  

“Most of them live underwater to hide from the sunlight and humans. I considered summoning them aboveground to introduce you to them, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”  

The thought of those large vishaps dwelling beneath the ground was somewhat disconcerting but thrilling at the same time. Erinnyes was supposed to have a complicated network of underground caverns. You supposed they lived there.   

Another thought occurred to you just then. “You can speak their language,” you turned to him. “Are you related to them in some way? Like…their overseer or something?”  

“Overseer…? Interesting choice of words,” Neuvillette stroked his chin, thinking your question over. “I would not call myself that, but I do watch over them, and they depend on me.”  

“I see,” you said. It didn’t escape your notice that he didn’t answer your question about whether or not he was related to them. You stared at his slitted eyes again. They did resemble vishaps’ eyes quite a lot. Could Neuvillette turn into a vishap? You couldn’t quite imagine it. If he could transform into something, you’d imagine that it would be something more majestic and graceful, like…  

Neuvillette cleared his throat. That was when you realized that you had been staring into his eyes for far too long. Hastily, you looked away, your gaze landing on the sparkling water.   

“I…I didn’t know that the Chief Justice’s duties also extend to looking after the wild creatures of the land,” you said. You hoped that you didn’t sound too flustered. “I don’t know how you manage it.”  

“Well, those wild creatures, as you called them, are also citizens of Fontaine, so they are under my purview in that sense. And also, the role of Chief Justice isn’t the only role I play.”  

You didn’t quite understand what he was talking about, and he didn’t seem to have any intention of elaborating. For a while, the two of you watched the neighboring shoreline move past you.  

Eventually, the back of the Opera Epiclese came into view. And in the distance, the Court of Fontaine loomed over the waters. Looking at it from here, you once again appreciated just how big it was. When you first moved there, it had taken you weeks to find your way around without getting lost.   

“What a great view of the city,” you said. “I’d love to take some pictures of it.”  

“Why don’t you, then?”   

“I’m afraid I’ll run out of film since I took so many pictures back at Erinnyes, so I want to save it for Merusea Village.”  

“There’s no need to worry about that. I’ve brought several rolls of film with me,” Neuvillette patted his pocket.  

“Oh, really! Don’t mind if I do, then.”  

You went to the cabin to get the Kamera, then proceeded to take pictures of the city from several angles. It certainly looked imposing, with its tall ramparts and the lofty Mont Esus looming in the background, but it was simply too gaudy and contemporary for your liking. Maybe it’ll look better in a few hundred years, when it’s all ruins. You found yourself focusing on the half-sunken beams and pillars poking out from beneath the water instead. Are those from the last flood period? I wonder what used to be there?  

You closed your eyes as you tried to recall what you read in The Divers’ Guide to Underwater Ruins. It had belonged to your old art teacher, a former adventurer, and you used to beg her to lend it to you after every lesson. I think that’s where the old Institute of Natural Philosophy used to be. How sad it is to think that so much research is forever lost.  

Although, you also felt a bubbling excitement in the pit of your stomach, as you always did whenever you thought about old, crumbling, forgotten ruins.  

“Madame, are you feeling ill?” Neuvillette’s voice snapped you out of your reverie. You opened your eyes and was met with lilac orbs filled with concern. You stepped back a little in surprise, not expecting his face to be so close to yours. You could smell the crisp scent of his cologne, although you weren’t expert enough to identify the ingredients. It was different from the one he wore at your wedding. It smells nice, though. Maybe I should start wearing perfume too.  

“I apologize for startling you,” Neuvillette said as he saw the look of alarm on your face. “You closed your eyes and had an odd expression on your face, so I was worried.”  

“Oh, it was nothing. I was simply lost in thought,” you waved your hands dismissively as you felt your heartbeat settle down to a normal rate. It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable with being in close quarters with a man or anything. Neuvillette was still your husband, after all, so you should probably get used to it. It was simply that you were still coming to grips with the fact that you were on this little boat in the middle of the sea with the Chief Justice (who really did look quite resplendent. You should ask to take a picture of him. As a souvenir of this day, of course), and you couldn’t forget how different and warm and comforting it felt to be in his arms. That was all.  

“What were you thinking about?” he asked. He stepped a little bit closer, like he was actually curious.  

About old, crumbling, unexplored ruins and how the Court of Fontaine would look much better as a pile of rocks, you thought, but didn’t say it aloud. It was hardly a conversation topic for a date. And you were pretty sure you would be taken to the Fortress of Meropide for that second part.  

“I was just spacing out. It’s really nothing,” you said dismissively.   

Neuvillette nodded slowly and turned away. A shadow passed over him. It was cast by the aquabus railing, marking the halfway point of this journey.   

By the time the boat emerged from the other side, gray clouds were gathering in the sky. Neuvillette was still turned away from you. You bit your lip, regretting your tone. You hadn’t meant for it to come off so bluntly. Your mother often criticized you for not speaking softly and gently enough for a lady. You wished you had Neuvillette’s quiet, soothing voice. It never failed to calm you.   

Instead of researching honeymoon spots, I should have read more books on how to behave on a date, you inwardly lamented. You were not a charming, talkative person by nature. It took work on your part to pretend to be one. Probably because of this, your romantic history was non-existent.   

If only you were your sister…she seemed to have a way of lighting up any situation.   

It was funny. Mutually agreeing to be just friends was supposed to be make everything easier. Friendship was supposed to be easy and natural. There was no pretense between friends. Though you didn’t exactly have a large social circle back home, you did have a few close friends. But Neuvillette was nothing like your school friends or your old art teacher, by virtue of his position and status. And that wasn’t even mentioning the fact that you two were in a marriage of convenience.  

If only Lady Furina hadn’t gotten involved, we could have lived together quietly and peacefully as just friends until the year’s end. You felt a stab of resentment towards the Archon. Because of her, Neuvillette—and you, by extension—was forced into this awkward situation. She must have really riled him up. Why can’t she just be happy that Neuvillette is getting a “taste of matrimonial happiness” or whatever and leave it at that? …Then again, we haven’t exactly acted like a proper married couple until now. And even now...  

“Madame, here you are,” Neuvillette’s voice broke through your thoughts. He was holding a cup of water out to you. “Drinking water can ease seasickness.”  

You haven’t been feeling sick for some time now. What sort of look did I have on my face? You wondered, but accepted the cup anyways. The water was crisp and refreshing. It cleared your mind.  

There’s really no use in overthinking this, you concluded. The best thing I can do for Neuvillette is to go along with whatever he has planned for us and help keep the mood light and pleasant. I have no idea if Lady Furina is watching us or not, but one can never be sure.  

You considered for a moment what you could do, then stood up with the Kamera.   

Neuvillette’s eyes were fixed on the sea ahead. You remembered a story that Muirne, a Melusine who worked at the Palais Mermonia, told you about Neuvillette staring out at sea and causing a crowd of people to wonder if there was something going on out there. Looking at him now, you could understand how that happened. There was a magnetic intensity in his gaze that drew you to him. You had never seen that expression for yourself, though. Perhaps it was reserved for the sea.  

There were many things you didn’t know about him. He was fathomless like the ocean itself. What you saw now was only the surface. You couldn’t hope to catch even a glimpse of his depths. The thought gave you a strange restlessness.  

Just stop thinking, you told yourself firmly. Easy, casual. Remember that!  

“Monsieur Neuvillette,” you addressed him. “May I take a few pictures of you?”  

To your surprise, he readily agreed. You were under the impression that he didn’t like being photographed, considering the scarcity of his photos in the papers and his avoidance of being in public.  

“Should I pose or, ah, smile?” he asked, fiddling with his fingers. Maybe he was like you, uncomfortable with being photographed.   

“No. All you have to do is to stand and look as you usually do,” you said, even as you find yourself curious about what sorts of poses Neuvillette would make. “Just stand against the railing and look out at sea. That would be perfect.”  

As you aimed the lens at Neuvillette and looked at him through the viewfinder, it struck you then that from an outsider’s point of view, you looked like a real couple, on a real date.  

Embarrassingly, the thought made your heart flutter.  

Except it wasn’t, really. It was a sham, all for show. It was like a play, almost, performed for an invisible audience. A farce for no one except the two of you (and the Hydro Archon).   

But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re happy right now, a voice whispered in your mind. How long had it been since your heart felt so light?  

You weren’t sure if that made you more pathetic or not.  

You took a deep breath, clearing your mind of these errant thoughts, and concentrated on taking pictures of Neuvillette. He really is very photogenic, you thought. Though he does a look a bit stiff. You put on what you thought was an encouraging smile to help him relax, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Whoops?  

After you were done, Neuvillette said, “I do hope the pictures will turn out well.”  

“I’m sure they will,” you said, putting the Kamera back down and flopping back down onto the bench. “There is no finer pairing than a handsome man and beautiful scenery.”  

Neuvillette made a choked noise. He blinked rapidly and shook his head, like he couldn’t believe what he just heard. “Pardon me?”  

“‘There’s no finer pairing than a handsome man and beautiful scenery’?” you repeated your words, confused. Neuvillette still looked a bit stunned. You began to wonder if you had said something wrong. You meant it as an innocuous comment, but it could be taken the wrong way in the context of your relationship. Perhaps Neuvillette thought you meant something more by it. You should rectify things before a misunderstanding occurred.  

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, Neuvillette beat you to the punch.  

“You…consider me handsome?”  

Now it was your turn to stare at him. “Of course I do?”  

“I-I see,” Neuvillette said in a low voice. He seemed awfully caught off guard by your words. That was strange. Surely he was used to receiving compliments on his looks? Whenever he made a rare public appearance, the papers always made sure to describe his looks in loving detail, and it was well known that he had a legion of fangirls, some of whom had even been sent to the Fortress of Meropide for their extreme behavior.  

“I mean, I consider you handsome in the same way that most Fontainians do, in an aesthetic sort of way. I don’t mean anything untoward, sir. Did you find what I said offensive?”  

“No,” Neuvillette said, then cleared his throat. He was looking at anywhere but you. You could have sworn that the tips of his ears turned red. He almost seemed embarrassed. “No, I was simply…simply surprised, that’s all.”  

“Surprised? Why?”  

“Because you…ah, never acted in a way that suggested that you did…” Neuvillette struggled to find the words to finish his sentence. Poor man, you were embarrassing him to death. “Admire my looks, so I assumed that you…did not think of me in that way.”  

You stared at him with your mouth agape, only to hastily close your mouth when you saw how flustered you were making him. So Neuvillette was aware of the effect that his looks had on people. “Wait, what about that time when I kept staring at you? That counts, right?”  

“No, it was different. It felt more as though you were trying to analyze me,” he said. He must be so used to the amorous stares of his admirers that he was able to differentiate between the different types of gazes. His brow wrinkled, as though recalling unpleasant memories. Most likely related to the more extreme side of his fans. Poor man , you thought again.  

“I see,” you nodded. “I am sorry if I caused any offence by never saying anything.”  

“It isn’t something I care a whit about,” Neuvillette said quickly. If you didn’t know him, you would have thought he was trying to convince himself. “I find the fixation on appearances quite baffling and needless, honestly.”  

“Really?” you gave him a once-over. He wasn’t wearing his usual judge’s garb, but he was still dressed much too formally for a casual outing like this. The afternoon sun gilded the edges of his white hair, which looked soft and silky to the touch. His hair care regimen must be intensive .   

“Yes, really,” he nodded. “I only put up with such standards because of the demands of my position.”  

Easy for someone as stunning as him to say, you thought, but felt no bitterness. Maybe it was because he sounded truly sincere.   

Perhaps it was that sincerity that spurred you on to say what you said next.  

“Even so, I think there’s nothing wrong with complimenting someone on their looks, especially when they look as radiant as you,” you struggled to find the right words. You were never much of a writer. “Looking at you…reminds me of the mountains near my home. I liked seeing them every day. They never fail to take my breath away.”  

A thought popped into your head. Wait, a comparison to the sea would have been more apt here. But truth be told, you didn’t have any strong connection to the sea. Mountains, on the other hand, have been the constant backdrop for your childhood, so that was why they were the first thing that popped into your mind.  

A thrill of elation shot through your heart. Back in your old ball-attending days, your family would advise you to compliment potential partners on their appearance and dress. You tried, but somehow it always seemed to not land correctly. Perhaps it was your tone or the way you spoke. With Neuvillette, you had put all your sincerity and goodwill into your words, and it seemed to have worked.   

Neuvillette had always been nothing but courteous and gentlemanly towards you. It was time that you repaid the favor.  

The loud cry of a sea bird at the front of the boat drew your attention, and you spun around, your back facing him. Elynas was just up ahead.  

As you admired the white ridges of the mountains in your jubilation, you were completely ignorant of your husband’s intense, heated gaze aimed at the back of your head and the rapidly clearing clouds.   

“Welcome to Merusea Village, Monsieur and Madame Neuvillette!”  

A high-pitched chorus greeted you at the entrance of the underwater village.  

You surveyed the crowd of Melusines before you, still reeling from the journey here and what happened on the boat. Your hand was still tingling.   

The Melusines immediately surrounded the two of you, talking over each other.   

“Your wife is so pretty, Monsieur Neuvillette!”  

“I wish you invited us to the wedding!”  

“Does this mean you’re our new mother?”  

“When are you going to have a baby?”  

The last two questions took by complete surprise. “P-Pardon me??” you spluttered.  

Neuvillette, noticing how flustered you were, cleared his throat. “Everyone, I understand that you’re all excited to meet Madame Neuvillette, but you’re overwhelming her by coming up to her all at once.”  

The Melusines looked sheepish. “Sorry, Madame,” they said in unison.  

“There’s no need to apologize,” you said, although you were still not over the whole “mother” thing (your mind had automatically blocked out the baby question. You were still trying to wrap your head around the whole “being married” thing). You knew that the Melusines saw Neuvillette as their father and that he treated them as though they were his own daughters, but you hadn’t thought about how you factored into these relationships. I mean, in that sense, I guess I’m their stepmother…?  

Having spent much time with the Melusines recently, you had begun to think of them as your little sisters.   

 A blue Melusine with brown hair stepped forward. “Monsieur Neuvillette is right, everyone,” she said in a tone that you immediately recognized to be that of a big sister. “We should all introduce ourselves to Madame one by one. I’ll go first. I’m Serene.”  

The others followed her example and introduced themselves. You tried your best to remember them all. Cosanzeana, Iara, Sedile, Virda…  

“Madame,” Sedene said. “Shall we give you a tour of the village?”  

“Yes, please do,” you said. The Melusines happily grabbed your hands and led you to the opening of the cave.  

You couldn’t help but let out a gasp as you laid eyes on the enchanting sight before you. The contrast between the gloomy and dangerous Elynas above and this cozy and adorable underwater village was incredible. You had seen pictures of the village, but they failed to completely capture its charm, from the cupcake-shaped stone houses to their bubbling chimneys. The gentle light cascading down from above bequeathed a mysterious air to the village that made your heart leap. It looked just like the fairy villages in the picture books you loved as a child.   

You wasted no time in taking pictures. The Melusines were delighted by the presence of your Kamera and asked if you could take photos of them as well, which you happily agreed to. So, the tour became a rather sluggish one as the Melusines led you around the village, taking turns to point out which house belonged to who, pointing out all the interesting spots and showing you their little knickknacks. You dutifully complied with their picture-taking requests. It was an absorbing process. You almost fancied yourself as an anthropologist, documenting the culture of an unknown civilization.  

Neuvillette seemed content to hang back and let the Melusines take over. He, like you, was also surrounded by a gaggle of the little creatures. Whenever you glanced back, he was always in the midst of patting their heads or picking them up in his arms. You could hear him inquiring about them and their eager answers.    

The party made its way past a basin. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to call it a passageway, since it appeared to be bottomless. “This is how we go to the underwater part of the village,” a pink Melusine named Xana explained.   

You peered down. You could just make out the blurry gray shapes of houses. It reminded you of the small pool that you arrived here from. Neuvillette told you that it was a secret shortcut that not many people knew about. It certainly lived up to its status as a shortcut, since you ended up at the bottom of the water in the blink of an eye, before you could even register the fact that Neuvillette had wrapped his arms around your waist and asked you to close your eyes and hold your breath for a few seconds as he dove into the water with you.  

You felt your face turn slightly warm as you recalled the feeling of his arms around you and being pressed against his chest. He was more muscular than he looked, under all that loose-flowing fabric.   

You stole another glance at him. He was in the middle of examining Xana’s collection of shiny things that she was proudly holding out to him. Sensing your gaze, he looked up and met your eyes.  

Before you could look away, he walked up to you. “What is it, Madame?”  

“Um…” you fumbled for something to say, something that wasn’t related to Neuvillette’s strong, comforting arms or his broad chest. “I was wondering if we could go visit the underwater part of the village.”  

“Underwater?” Neuvillette repeated. The corners of his lips turned downward. “I would dearly love to, but I don’t believe you can hold your breath for that long.”  

“Oh, I see,” you felt a little disappointed, but there was nothing you could do. You’ve always had a fascination with underwater structures and ruins and the like, but it seemed that you could only see them in pictures.  

“Can you swim, Madame?” Xana asked.  

“Yes, but not very well. I can only stick to shallow water,” you said. “Monsieur Neuvillette is a very good swimmer, though. We got all the way down here in seconds. It’s like he was born for it.”  

The Melusines looked at each other and giggled, like they were sharing a secret.   

The tour made its final stop at the entrance of a conjoining cavern. You spotted a small house some distance away. “That’s where Mamere lives,” Serene pointed at it. “She’s out of the village getting materials for her paints right now, though.”  

“I was wondering where she was,” Neuvillette mused. “Is she still keeping to herself most of the time?”  

“Yeah, I told her that she needed to stay in the village since today’s a special day, but you know how it is with that kid…” Serene let out a long-suffering sigh that you emphasized with as a fellow older sister. “She does whatever she wants.”  

“Who’s Mamere?” you asked.  

It was a Melusine named Topyas who answered. “She’s a painter like you, Madame! I don’t really get her paintings, though.”  

“Yeah, what’s the word humans use again—abstract? Her paintings are very different from yours. Madame’s paintings are much easier to understand,” Xana said.  

“Oh?” That surprised you. You never thought that the drawings you did for practice for make it this far across the nation. “You’ve seen my paintings? Did the Melusines from the city show them to you?”  

“No, it was Monsieur Neuvillette. He showed them to us when he came here before.”  

“He did?” you looked at him. He nodded. You thought he looked a bit bashful.   

“I hope that is okay with you,” he said. “I wanted all the Melusines to see them.”  

“Well…um, I have no problem with it,” you looked down at your feet. It was funny. You never had much attachment to your paintings and considered them to be adequate enough to be part of your portfolio, but having them shown around like this almost made you wonder if there was something in them Neuvillette and the Melusines saw that you didn’t see. “I’m just worried that they’re too boring for your tastes. They’re just landscapes of my hometown, after all.”  

The Melusines disagreed vehemently. “But they’re so pretty. It feels like I’m right there when I’m looking at them,” Iara said, clapping her hands together.  

“I really love the sunflowers,” Cosanzeana said wistfully. “I wish I could grow them down here, but they need the sun. You’re so lucky that you get to live in a place with so many flowers.”  

“Is that so? I think you’re the lucky ones, getting to live in this beautiful village,” you gestured around. If you had the chance to live near the skeleton of a giant beast, you’d never leave. Of course, you did not say that out loud.  

“Monsieur Neuvillette also said that you’re very modest, Madame,” Serene said.   

“Oh, really?” you looked at Neuvillette again. He avoided your gaze this time. “What else did he say about me?”  

“He told us that you’re—"  

Neuvillette cleared his throat a bit too loudly. “Oh, that reminds me, we prepared a feast for you!” Serene said quickly. You could hear amusement in her voice. “Are you two hungry?”  

“I’m not,” you said.  

“Nor am I. Your sandwiches were very filling, Madame,” Neuvillette said.  

“Madame made sandwiches for you, Monsieur?” a Melusine asked.  

“She did, and they were delicious,” Neuvillette said, smiling at you. Really, this man… “I only wish she made more so we can share them with all of you.”  

The Melusines looked at you with expectant eyes. Looks like you’ve just been volunteered for more sandwich-making duties in the near future. “How about this? Why don’t you all come to Monsieur Neuvillette’s house when the sunflowers are in full bloom? I’ll make plenty of sandwiches for all of you then. And Monsieur Neuvillette can entertain all of you while you’re there,” you gave him your sweetest smile. “If it’s okay with you, of course.”  

Neuvillette looked a bit dazed as he stared at your face. Perhaps you had gone a bit too far. There were a lot of Melusines here, after all. But then he blinked and shook his head slightly, like he was awakened from a trance. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. We’ll send the invitations here when the time comes.”  

Overjoyed by the invitation, the Melusines quickly began to chat amongst themselves over what to wear and what to bring. As it was still mid-afternoon and neither you nor Neuvillette were hungry yet, it was decided that you would spend your time leisurely until evening arrived.   

So for the next few hours, you played and chatted with the Melusines. You had expected them to ask you endless questions about your marriage, but they didn’t. Perhaps Neuvillette had told them something beforehand, saving you the trouble of coming up with answers. Playing with the Melusines brought back fun memories of your days assisting at the schoolhouse back home. For some reason, they were infinitely fascinated by your life and hometown up above. You told them about the fields of wildflowers, the majestic mountains you played in when you were a child, and even a bit about your life in the city. They stroked their mitten-like hands along the fabric of your skirt and exclaimed over it like it was made of spun gold. They admired the flower in your hair and squealed over the fact that Neuvillette had a matching one in his hair.   

Up until now, you had always considered your life to be drab and hopeless. It wasn’t even tragic, just lackluster. At home, you were overlooked in favor of your sister, and in high society, you were invisible. It wasn’t lost on you that your life could be much worse. However, as destined as you were for a life of quiet spinsterhood, it could still be amended. You could still have shreds of your childhood aspirations, molded into adult reality.  

That was why you adopted an attitude of always looking forward and never dwelling on the past for too long. Staying too long in one spot would only trap you there forever. You’ve read all sorts of stories about old gods and heroes who met their downfall by clinging too much to the past. You were nowhere near their level, of course, but your old art teacher told you that all the most valuable lessons were learned from history, and you trusted her with all your heart.  

But being with the Melusines—being with Neuvillette—was starting to make you see the color in your black-and-white life. You were beginning to see that there was something beyond the constrained life you were born into and destined for.   

Don’t lose sight of your goal. Don’t forget who you are. The little voice in your head warned you. Thinking of your future plans always managed to clear your heart and refresh your mind. But now, it sounded strangely muffled compared to before.  

Speaking of Neuvillette, you looked around for him. Currently, you were resting on a bench. He had wanted to stay with you, but you encouraged him to play with the Melusines. This was one of his rare visits, after all. You spotted him with some Melusines by the waterfall. Laume—the Melusine who wanted to be a journalist, if you remembered correctly—was holding the Kamera and instructing him to pose. You watched as he placed his hand on his hip and held up his hand in a peace sign. He really does indulge them. You knew that he had a soft, paternal side he showed only to the Melusines, but having it displayed before you like this was something else.  

More Melusines came up to him, wanting to take pictures with him. He patted their heads with a fond smile. A lucky few even got the chance to ride on his shoulders. His affection for the Melusines was evident in his every expression and gesture. And it was clear that the Melusines reciprocated that love just as much.  

“I hope you aren’t too tired out by the kids,” Serene said, sitting next to you. “They can be a handful.”  

“It’s all right, I’ve done this kind of thing before,” you waved your hand. “I’m more worried about you. Shouldn’t you be playing with Monsieur Neuvillette like the others instead of running around taking care of everyone?”  

You’ve learned that Serene was indeed the big sister of the Melusines here, the one who looked after everyone and sent reports to Neuvillette about the goings-on of the village. She really was a big sister.  

“That’s my job, after all. I’ve got to take it seriously, just like how Monsieur Neuvillette always takes his job seriously,” Serene said matter-of-factly, but you could hear the admiration in her voice.   

“But it’s good to take breaks sometimes. Even Monsieur Neuvillette does, like today.”  

“Today…” Serene mused. Then she smiled. “You know, Madame, when we learned that he was bringing you with him to the village, we were so happy. We thought, ‘Finally, Monsieur Neuvillette has someone by his side.’”  

“Someone by his side?” you repeated. “But he has all of you, doesn’t he?”  

But even as you say it, you thought that you understood what Serene meant. You had the same thoughts before.   

“What I mean is, someone who can share his worries and burdens. Someone he can be himself with. I don’t know much about how human marriages work, but I think that’s what it’s supposed to be, right? I’m so happy that Monsieur Neuvillette has finally found someone like that. You must be really special.”   

You looked away from the Melusine, biting your lip. Serene didn’t know the circumstances surrounding this marriage, of course. She didn’t know that it was based on pity and self-interest. She didn’t know that you and him were simply wading in shallow water, never intending to go deeper than that. She didn’t know that even for this trip, it was an obligation handed down to him by the Archon, not something he did because he wanted to, or that there was something he was refusing to tell you for reasons you didn’t understand.  

You didn’t say any of this out loud. Instead, you forced a smile. “I’m really not all that special,” you said.  

“But Monsieur Neuvillette thinks you are, Madame! You should have heard how he talked about you. And his face! I’ve never seen him look like that before.”  

“What did he say about me?” you asked, curious. You couldn’t imagine it.  

“Oh…I shouldn’t. I don’t want to embarrass him,” Serene giggled. “But trust me, they were all good things. And he was right, you’re as wonderful and lovely as he described!”  

Wonderful and lovely? Those were two words that better described your sister, not you. You almost wondered if Neuvillette had been talking about someone else.  

Just then, a Melusine ran up to you. “Madame! Come take a picture with us!”  

“Okay, I’m coming,” you answered, then took Serene’s hand. “Come on, let’s go take some pictures.”  

The crowd of Melusines immediately made room for you to stand next to Neuvillette. You glanced up at him. Despite having to keep up with the Melusines’ seemingly boundless energy for so long, he didn’t look the slightest bit fatigued.     

“Are you feeling more rested, Madame?” he whispered as you positioned yourself next to him. “Hungry yet?”  

“Yes to the first question, and no, I’m not hungry yet,” you whispered back. “Are you?”  

“I also am not hungry,” he answered. There was a short pause before he asked another question. “…Are you enjoying yourself?”  

“Of course I am,” you said in surprise, for he sounded genuinely troubled. “Why do you ask?”  

“It is just that…” Neuvillette trailed off, as though searching for the right words. “I couldn’t help but notice that you had a rather grave expression on your face when you were chatting with Serene.”  

He could see your expression from all the way over here? You looked at the other side of the village, where the bench you had been sitting. His eyesight must be incredible.   

“Oh, there’s nothing to worry about,” you said airily. “We were just chatting. And that’s how my face always looks. But why were you looking over at us, anyways, when you have all these charming young ladies around you?”  

One of the Melusines in front of you giggled and turned around. “That’s because he was feeling lonely without you, Madame!” she chirped.   

“Yeah, that’s why he keeps looking in your direction!” Another Melusine chimed in.   

“Is that true, Monsieur Neuvillette?” you looked back at him. His face was kept carefully smooth and expressionless, but you could see spots of color in his cheeks. “Can you really not bear a single minute away from me?”  

“I…” Neuvillette looked as though he wanted to take off and leave right there and then. But he ended up being saved from having to come up with an answer by Laume.  

“Okay, everyone! I finally figured out how to use the timer!” she announced. “Now, we can all take a group picture together!”  

Wow, I didn’t know Kameras from back then had timers, you thought as Laume directed the Melusines to cluster together as closely as possible so that they could all be captured by the Kamera’s lens. You and Neuvillette eventually ended up in a position where you were basically pressed against each other.  

“Madame,” you heard him whisper into your ear. Despite this not even being the first time, your heart never failed to beat just a little faster. “May I put my arm around you?”  

You looked up at him. His lilac eyes bored into your own, exerting an invisible force. You nodded, and he wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand resting just above your hip. You could feel the warmth of his hand seeping through the fabric and into your skin. The weight of it made you feel twitchy and lightheaded. It felt like every nerve in your body was concentrated there in that one spot.  

“Get ready, everyone! The Kamera’s about to go off in five seconds! Smile!” Laume shouted. She proceeded to run back to the crowd. Just then, you felt him tighten his grip imperceptibly, drawing you towards him. Your head brushed against his shoulder.  

The Kamera flashed, capturing this moment in time forever. With that, the crowd dispersed, and Neuvillette let go of your waist. You could still feel the shadow of his touch. You stared after him, wanting to say something, but didn’t know what.    

A pink Melusine called out to him. “Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette, could we please play with your hair now?”  

“Why, certainly,” Neuvillette said. The Melusines cheered.  

“Madame, have you ever played with Monsieur Neuvillette’s hair before?” one of them asked.  

“I haven’t,” you said, causing them to gasp in surprise.    

They insisted that you be granted the honor of touching Neuvillette’s hair first, despite your protestations. As for the man in question, he had no problem with it, although his mind seemed to be somewhere else. And so was yours, for that matter. You just couldn’t figure him out, and it bothered you greatly. Were friendships supposed to be this complicated? You thought that once you and Neuvillette agreed to be friends, things would be so much easier between the two of you now. In some ways, it was, but it also wasn’t, as it was in this case.   

Why am I feeling so strangely about this? You wondered to yourself. He just put his arm around me, that’s all. Why, just today, he carried me in his arms when we came down here and kissed the back of my hand because I complimented him (an overreaction, but I can understand the logic behind it). And I did run into his arms and cling to him (only because I was startled by the vishap)…I suppose the difference is that I can’t think of any conceivable reason that he would put his arm around me back there.  

Stop overthinking, you told yourself once again. It’ll just give you a headache. Remember, easy and casual!  

“Madame…Madame!” High-pitched voices pierced through your thoughts. Before you knew it, you were sitting on the stone bench again. Neuvillette was perched on the end, his back facing you. The ends of his tied hair were resting on the stone surface. His pure white locks reminded you of untrodden snow, too pristine to touch. You uneasily wondered if you should wash your hands first.  

“I brought the hair things!” Cosanzeana announced, bringing over a box. It contained combs, brushes, ribbons, and various other hair ornaments. It seemed that this was a favorite activity of the Melusines. Neuvillette was evidently used to it as well, for he was sitting quietly with his back erect and his hands clasped in his lap.  

It was somewhat unnerving to have an audience of bright, inhuman eyes watch you, but you got on with it. You slowly undid the black ribbon at the end of his hair and placed it by your side, then leaned forward to remove the feathered hairclip and Lamplight Lily tucked near his temple. You tried your best not to touch his skin, but he probably didn’t feel it.  

His hair was even more stunning unbound. You couldn’t help but smile as you ran your fingers through the silky strands. You couldn’t lie to yourself—there were times when you were tempted to touch his beautiful hair, and now one of your secret dreams had come true.   

“Monsieur Neuvillette’s hair is so lovely, isn’t it?” Serene said, beaming.  

“It sure is,” you said. His hair had an awful tendency to get tangled and snagged in the smallest cracks and crevices, so you’ve always wondered why he didn’t cut it short for practicality’s sake. But honestly, if you had his hair, you would let it grow freely and run through the forest like a woodland creature, feeling your hair stream in the wind behind you. “I hope he never cuts it. It would be a tragedy for Fontaine when that happens.”  

Your comment caused a horrified gasp to rise from the Melusines. “Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette, promise us that you’ll keep your hair as it is!” a few of them pleaded.  

“I will not,” he assured them. “I prefer my hair the way it is as well.”  

“They should pass a law that forbids scissors from being within three meters of Monsieur Neuvillette’s hair,” you said as you began to run the seashell comb through his hair.   

“An interesting idea, though frivolous,” Neuvillette said. “I hardly think an edict like that would be much accepted among the people.”  

“I think you’d be surprised at how many people are invested in your hair,” you said as you worked through a knot, trying to be as gentle as you could. You were thinking about an old classmate of yours who was obsessed with Neuvillette’s “luscious, pearlescent locks of moonlight” (the girl who coined that phrase would go on to write for the Steambird) and wondered what she would say if she saw you now.  “And I don’t see how this law is any more frivolous than not being allowed to place fruit tarts on unheated trays or put unfinished Fonta in the middle of the road.”  

“You’ve been reading up on the laws of Fontaine, Madame?” Neuvillette sounded genuinely surprised. “You never shown much interest in judicial affairs.”   

“I am your wife, after all,” you said. And there’s not much else besides legal codices to read in your house, you added silently. A trip to the library was due. “It’s perfectly normal for a wife to take a little interest in her husband’s work, isn’t it? Some of it is actually quite interesting.”  

You weren’t sure how much the Melusines knew about the truth of your marriage, but you thought you should at least put on the façade. Neuvillette didn’t say anything in response.   

You tried to be as gentle as you could as you untangled the knots and snarls. Inwardly, you marvelled at how healthy and well-maintained his hair was. What is his haircare regimen? You once again wondered as you idly twirled a lock around your index finger. It even smelled nice. You had the urge to bury your face in his hair. I bet he’s the type who only uses soap to wash his hair. It must be a pain to brush it in the morning, though.     

The long, blue ornaments were getting in the way. You grabbed them at the ends and pressed them down, but they bounced back up. Thinking that you should take them out, you looked for the place where they were clipped into his hair, only to find to your amazement that they were attached to his head.  

You rubbed the ornaments between your fingers. They didn’t feel like they were made of synthetic materials. Were they…?  

You heard a low grunt. “M-Madame…w-what are you doing?” Neuvillette sounded different. His voice was breathy, strained-sounding. Did you pull on his hair too hard?   

“I wanted to move these blue hair ornaments, but…these aren’t ornaments, are they?”  

“They are not.”  

“Are they antennae, then? Or feelers?”   

There was a brief silence. “They are horns ,” Neuvillette said at last. He sounded offended.  

“Oh…” you looked at them again. What sort of creature would have such floppy horns, you thought, remembering how they fluttered about in the wind. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”  

“You’ve never asked.”   

“I see,” you said. “I’m sorry if I caused you pain.”  

“You did not. It’s just that my horns are very…sensitive to touch, so please tell me beforehand if you are going to touch them.”  

“Oh…okay,” You didn’t know what else to say. You hadn’t expected the conversation to go this way, and you were very glad that Neuvillette couldn’t see your face right now.  

“Madame’s face is red!” a Melusine yelled. You turned and found a crowd of wide eyes flitting between you and Neuvillette.  

You cleared your throat. “Who wants to help me braid Monsieur Neuvillette’s hair?” you said in an overly cheerful voice.  

“Ooh, me, me!” the Melusines pressed forward eagerly. You inwardly let out a sigh of relief for diffusing the awkward situation, completely failing to notice the rosy flush that appeared on Neuvillette’s pale cheeks and the tensing of his neck.  

With Neuvillette’s hair as the medium, you demonstrated various hairstyles—braids, ponytails, twin tails, and so on. It brought back fond memories of doing your sister’s hair. The Melusines happily helped with gathering flowers and ribbons to adorn Neuvillette’s hair. Much fun was had, and many pictures were taken. Neuvillette remained admirably composed upon seeing the monstrosities done to his hair in the mirror, but fortunately for him, no one else would ever see these sights.  

Eventually, you felt hungry, and it was decided that dinner would be served shortly. As you were letting down Neuvillette’s hair, Topyas asked you a question. “Madame, why don’t you call Monsieur Neuvillette by just his name?”  

“Well…” you had to think about it. Neuvillette, who had been shifting slightly, stilled. “It just feels a bit odd to not call him by his title. He’s such a great, accomplished man after all.”  

“But aren’t you two married? I thought married couples call each other by their nicknames.”  

“Everyone’s different,” you said, brushing Neuvillette’s hair. “Monsieur Neuvillette has always been Monsieur Neuvillette to me. He never calls me by my name either.”  

“Huh, now that I think about it…” Topyas said, putting her hand on her chin. “That does make sense. It does feel a bit too formal, though.”  

“Madame can call me whatever she feels most comfortable with,” Neuvillette said. “As I do with her.”  

You tied the black ribbon to the end of his hair and returned the hair accessories to their original positions. You felt a complicated mix of emotions swirling within you.  

Melusine cuisine was not what you expected. When the dishes were first served to you, you wondered if you were being poisoned. The meat was green and purple, and the dead eyes of the fish sticking out of the pie—it was called Poissonchant Pie, if you remembered correctly—briefly made you consider swearing off fish and pies for the rest of your life. And the scent was...stimulating, to say the least. Was this even edible , you wondered. You looked over at Neuvillette to see what he was going to eat.  

“Why, this all looks delicious,” he said, surveying the dishes and smiling at the expectant crowd. “Thank you all for this wonderful meal.”  

“Um...yes. Thank you, everyone,” you said.  

Then, he elegantly brought a forkful of meat to his mouth, his eyes closed. In pleasure or resignation, you couldn’t tell. It didn’t seem to have any ill effects on him, but then again, he was not human, so it stood to reason that he had a stronger stomach than you.   

Unfortunately, the sandwiches were all finished, and the Melusines were looking at you with their expectant bright eyes. You steeled yourself (and your stomach) and took a bite out of the oddly colored meat. Well, if I do get violently sick, at least Neuvillette is here. He can take me to the best doctors.   

You forced yourself to chew and swallow. Surprisingly, the meat didn’t taste spoiled. In fact, it was quite good. You took another bite.  

“Do you like my food, Madame?” the chef, Lutine, asked.  

“Yes. It’s very good. You’re an excellent cook,” you said.   

“Oh, I’m so happy to hear that!” she said with a sigh of relief. “Humans are put off by our dishes because of their appearances, so most of them don’t know how delicious our food actually is!”  

“They’re definitely missing out,” you assured her, then sampled the pie. It was also very good, despite the eerie feeling that the fish were about to break into song. “There’s a lot of food here, though. I hope I can finish it all.”  

“Monsieur Neuvillette only visits us here a few times a year, including his birthday,” Lutine explained. “So I make as many dishes as I could whenever he comes, so he can taste them all.”  

“He only visits you a few times a year?” you repeated incredulously, looking at him. “Is he so busy?”  

“Yes, he is. He almost never takes vacations,” it was Sedile, a Marechausee Phantom agent, who answered this time. “But now that he has you, Madame, maybe you can convince him to rest more.”  

“Maybe,” you said vaguely, but you doubted you had that much influence on him. Next to you, Neuvillette continued to eat, not saying anything.  

After the meal, you decided to take a private stroll in the side cavern where Mamere’s house was located. Neuvillette was being detained by the Melusines, so you slipped out when they weren’t looking.  

Watching him and the Melusines made you feel a mix of emotions. It was gladdening to see him being surrounded by creatures who adored him so openly and unconditionally, but it also made you feel a bit lonely, like you were a star orbiting a sun on the outskirts of its gravitational field. He was much more relaxed with them as well, compared to when he was with you. It was almost as though you were seeing his real self.  

It’s only natural, you thought to yourself. He and the Melusines have a long history together, and you’re just an outsider he didn’t even know existed until a few months ago. Besides, it’s hard to be so serious and formal with them.   

There was no point in feeling gloomy. The sights here were far more interesting. You didn't have the Kamera with you, but that didn’t matter. You took enough pictures for one day. You just wanted to be alone with your thoughts and get some respite from all the bustle.   

“Madame,” Neuvillette chose that moment to join you. “My apologies for leaving you all alone. But you mustn’t go off on your own like this. You can easily get lost in these caverns.”  

“Don't worry about me,” you said. “I’ll stay close to the village. Please, feel free to go be with the Melusines. You’re their father, after all. I’ll join you later.”  

“But we are on a date. It's highly ill-mannered of me to leave you alone.”  

"Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette, there’s no need to keep up this pretense of a date. I do appreciate everything you’re doing and how seriously you’re taking this, but you should be concerned about your own relaxation more. You don’t visit Merusea Village as often as you would like, do you? You should make the most of your time here before we go back. I’ll be fine on my own. I’m used to it.”  

You thought you sounded dependable and logical, but the look in Neuvillette’s eyes spoke otherwise. They were filled with alarm. His mouth moved, as though he wanted to say something, but no words came out. It was then that you knew that you had definitely said something wrong.  

But before you could say anything, Neuvillette seemed to have finally found his words. “...Have I done something wrong?” His voice was a low whisper, but every word was transmitted to your ears clearly. It raised the hair on the back of your neck.  

“W-What do you mean?” you frowned. “Of course not. You’ve been nothing but a perfect gentleman to me today.”  

“What is it, then? Is this place not to your liking? Do you wish to go home now?” He took a step towards you, and you reflexively backed up. Neuvillette was looking down at you, his eyes piercing into your own. It didn’t strike you until then just how tall he was, and how intimidating he could be when he wanted to. Is this what criminals see? You thought even as your heartbeat hammered in your ears.  

“No, not at all. I love this place and everyone here!” you shook your head vigorously. “I wish we could stay longer.”   

“Then why are you pushing me away?” The usual silkiness in his voice was gone, replaced by something rougher and unfamiliar. You felt your heart beginning to beat quickly, your hands becoming slick with sweat. He took another step towards you. You stepped backwards once again and found yourself backed up against a pink wall.  

“I-I’m not pushing you away! It’s just that I need a little bit of alone time to recover my energy after socializing with so many people, and there is no need for you to stick with me. It has nothing to do with you and the Melusines, and everything to do with me. I’m sure you understand that, don’t you, sir?”  

“I do,” he said. “Indeed, I understand. But what I don’t understand is your insistence on there being no ‘need’ for me to stay by your side. If you ask it of me, I would be happy to accompany you in silence.”  

“But I would not be,” you said. “Like I said before, this isn’t a real date, and we...aren’t a real couple. You don’t have to always be with me, especially since you don’t take a lot of personal holidays. I would rather you spend the free time you have with someone who isn’t as boring as me.”  

You stated the last part matter-of-factly. It was simply the truth.  

However, it seemed to have been the wrong thing to say.  

Neuvillette stepped even closer to you. He bent down, his face so close to yours that your noses were practically touching.  

“…Did Furina approach you?” he said, his voice as low as the bottom of the sea.  

You stared at him blankly for a moment. Why was he bringing up Furina all of a sudden?   

“She hasn’t,” you said after a pause.  

Neuvillette’s intense gaze roved your face, as though to search for any signs of lying. You did your best to stare back at him. At last, he let out a breath and nodded slowly.   

“Now,” you gritted out, putting all the force you could muster in your voice. “Could you please step away from me?”  

At last, he seemed to realize that he was practically pinning you against the wall and quickly stepped back. A look of shame flashed across his face.  

“My apologies,” he said at last. “I did not know what came over me.”  

“Me neither,” you said curtly. “It’s very unlike you. Why did you ask me if Lady Furina approached me, anyways?”  

Neuvillette did not answer, though you saw his jaw tense. His gaze flitted away from you. He seemed to have said something he shouldn’t have.   

You pondered over it all. His question, his behavior over this past week, his fixation on being boring...it all clicked into place.  

“Oh, it all makes sense now,” you said. Neuvillette’s face snapped back to yours. “Lady Furina called me boring and dull, didn’t she?”  

Neuvillette’s silence was all the confirmation you needed.  

“Is that all she said about me?”  

“...Yes.”   

“I see,” you nodded. It all made sense now. How ridiculous this whole situation was. It felt like a heavy load had been lightened. “So it was nothing, really.”  

“You’re not offended?” Neuvillette looked so confused that you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. He flinched.  

“Why would I be offended by the truth? It’s impressive how she was able to figure out my personality despite never meeting me. I suppose that’s to be expected of an Archon.”  

“It is not true at all. She has no right to falsely disparage someone she has never met. You have every right to be angry. I will ask her to apologize to you.”  

“There’s no need to go that far,” you exclaimed in shock. Furina was his superior, so you didn’t want to be the cause of conflict between the two of them, even though you doubted she would ever fire him. “Look, Monsieur Neuvillette, I��know I’m not a very interesting person. Lady Furina isn’t the first person to call me boring. Plenty of others have before her as well. I’m used to it. It’s not the worst thing in the world, you know, to be called that. And—”  

You broke off your sentence there, upon seeing the expression on his face. There was a deep furrow between his brows, and his jaw was clenched tightly. He looked...angry.  

“Others have insulted you as well?” he said slowly. You found yourself suddenly fearing for the lives of those young ladies and gentlemen from so long ago.   

“Well, I-I wouldn’t call it being insulted, e-exactly,” you stammered. Neuvillette’s eyes seemed to pin you in place. Grabbing onto whatever came to mind and vocalizing it was the only way to break the spell. “I-It’s just that my interests and hobbies aren’t what you call ‘in vogue,’ and you know, at balls, what most people want to talk about is the latest gossip and plays and fashion and things like that, all of which I’m woefully ignorant about. And, you know, I’m not beautiful, witty, or fashionable enough to make up for that, so really, it’s only natural for people to find me uninteresting. I don’t have much to offer.”  

Oh, how wonderful. You hadn’t expected that your date would end up with you unearthing all your long-buried insecurities. A feeling of despair welled up within you. So much for maintaining a pleasant atmosphere. Of course, you would be the one to ruin this day.  

“I don’t care anymore, though,” you hurriedly added, trying to salvage this in any way you could. “It’s all in the past now, when I was a teenager. In fact, I think having a plain personality is a benefit for the line of work I’ve chosen, so it all works out in the end. Like I said before, sir, being boring isn’t a crime and—”  

“But you were hurt before,” Neuvillette interrupted. His eyes reminded you of rippling pools of water. You wanted to run away, but it was as though your legs had turned into stone. “And you are still hurt.”  

“No, I told you, I’m completely over it! It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s nothing but petty teenage angst.”  

“If you are over it, as you say, then why are you fixated on the idea that I would be bored with you. Even if it is in the past, it still occurred, and you continue to be affected by it. You have every right to be angry, to hold a grudge against those people.”  

Now you recognized that additional emotion in his eyes. It was sadness. His eyes were rippling with unshed tears, and his lips were pressed tightly together.   

He looked like he was about to cry.  

You were utterly baffled. Why did he seem more upset than you about this? You had told him the truth. Those feelings of sadness, inferiority, and self-loathing were buried deep inside you long ago. You had made sure of it. Compared to the teenaged you from so long ago, you now felt lighter, as free as a bird.  

“I...I don’t understand,” you whispered. Your voice came out a rasp. “Why do you care so much, sir? I’m sure you’ve seen people who suffered far worse than me."  

“Why would I not care?” Neuvillette said. He placed his large, gloved hands on your shoulders. The gentle but firm weight of them made something within you unfurl. “You are someone dear to me. I cannot forgive anyone who has hurt you, even if they are the Archon herself. It does not matter how minor a slight it may be. Your feelings should be valued as much as anyone else’s. And...it pains me deeply when I hear you talk about yourself in such a way, that you believe them.”  

Long buried memories resurrected themselves and flashed through your mind.   

Of disinterested eyes sizing you up, then passing over you like you weren’t even there, landing on girls much more beautiful, girls you could never hope to be.  

Of barely concealed bored looks, looking past you to someone much more interesting.  

Of incredulous sneers and raised eyebrows upon hearing of your interest in pressing flowers and Remurian history, and quick switches to far worldlier topics, like overseas vacations or the latest plays at the Opera Epiclese. Conversations you couldn’t even hope to partake in, because you came from a family that could only afford to go to the opera house once a year. You didn’t even have the confidence to bluff your way through these things.  

Balls, you had quickly learned, were like plays. You were either in a starring role, or you were a background actor without even a name.  

It wasn’t as though anyone had ever publicly humiliated you or ganged up on you like something out of a cheap romance novel. You were too insignificant for that.   

Eventually, you had learned to endure these little jabs, hardening your mind and heart. You were a poor baron’s daughter, someone with very little standing in the grand scheme of things. You couldn’t afford to offend your betters, anyways. There was nothing you could do except to shrug it off, to polish and improve yourself, and to make yourself worthy of being seen and chosen. Your parents had told you so as well. You couldn’t--shouldn’t--rely on them in such matters. They had their hands tied as well.  

The only one you could rely on was yourself. If no one else was there to pick up the pieces, then you would have to be the one to do it. That was a philosophy you had lived by, and it worked out for you so far.  

But now...  

You stared at the distraught man in front of you. A man with too much empathy for someone who didn’t deserve it, especially compared to those who had gone through actual suffering.  

You wanted to push him away again, to reassure him that there was nothing to be sad about, that it was wasted on you. You wanted to tell him to go be with someone happier, more cheerful, and to leave you be in your misery until you could recover yourself once more and go back to him with a smile.  

But then you remembered that young girl crying into her pillow after a particularly difficult ball where she didn’t get asked to dance even once. The herbarium (as you had insisted on calling it) that you diligently maintained since you were a child, thrown away in the trash.   

Even boring, dull girls had feelings to hurt.   

You stepped towards him and wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, burrowing your face into his jacket.  

“Madame...?” you heard his stunned voice above your head. But his arms wrapped around you tightly, bringing you deeper into his embrace. Hot tears prickled the back of your eyelids, but you let them flow. You could pay for his dry cleaning later.  

“Thank you,” you mumbled into his clothes, then raised your head to look straight into his eyes. “Neuvillette. For always thinking of my feelings, far more than I do myself. It makes me...very happy.”  

You really were a terrible friend. You thought you were putting him at ease by maintaining a respectable distance between the two of you, by dismissing his worries. But that had the opposite effect.  

He coddled you, something you hated, but maybe it was okay to sink and give in sometimes.  

“There is no need to thank me,” Neuvillette said. “I am only doing what I ought to do.”  

“I know. And that’s what I love about you.”  

Neuvillette’s eyes widened. You made no explanation for your words. He placed his hand on the back of your head and gently stroked it. You closed your eyes, wanting to engrave this warmth into your memories.  

Suddenly, you heard gasps and giggles coming from the cavern’s entrance. Both you and Neuvillette whipped your heads in that direction. Small, colorful heads squealed and quickly hid behind a rock.   

“It looks like we got an audience,” you said.   

“Indeed. How troublesome,” Neuvillette said. Neither of you let go of each other.  

One little Melusine poked her head out from the rock. “Kiss!” she shouted.  

Several of her sisters joined her. “Monsieur Neuvillette, kiss her!”  

The two of you looked at each other. Neuvillette’s face was a mixture of awkwardness, embarrassment, and affection. Your face mirrored his, you were sure.  

"Neuvillette, can you bend down for me?” you whispered, then changed your mind and stood up on your tiptoes, then pressed your lips against his smooth, marble cheek. But unlike marble, it was soft and warm.  

You heard a sharp inhalation from Neuvillette, which was quickly followed by a chorus of high-pitched squeals and cheers.  

As you watched Neuvillette’s cheeks turn red and felt your own burn, you couldn’t help but think that Furina had been on the right track with this whole marriage business, even if you disagreed with the way she went about it.  

Neuvillette deserved to have someone who loved him wholeheartedly and without hesitation. Someone who can serve as a comforting shelter for him, just like he did for you.  

“Do you really have to leave so soon?”  

You and Neuvillette were standing at the entrance to Merusea Village once more. The Melusines were gathered there to see you off.  

“It is almost dusk. I must bring Madame home before it gets dark,” Neuvillette told them. The Melusines let out “Awws” of disappointment.   

“I had a wonderful time with all of you. I’ll never forget it,” you assured them, patting your purse. As a parting gift, they had given you a heap of shiny components, which you gratefully accepted, although you wondered where you were going to put it all.  

“Thank you all for being such good hosts for us,” Neuvillette said, patting their heads. You did the same.  

As you looked at the rows of smiling faces, you thought that those who were loved by Neuvillette were the luckiest people in the world.  

“Madame, when you visit us for Monsieur Neuvillette’s birthday, I’ll play a song I composed for you!” Topyas said.  

“Neuvillette's birthday?” you repeated quizzically.  

“That’s right! He visits us every year on his birthday. Lutine bakes a really tasty cake for him, too. You will come with him as well, right?”  

Neuvillette’s birthday was at the end of the year, if you remembered correctly. Would you even be married to him by then?  

But faced with such a shining, hopeful visage, you could do nothing except smile and nod.  

“Madame, we’re above water now.”  

Neuvillette said into your ear. He watched as your eyes opened slowly, the fluttering of your eyelashes reminding him of a butterfly’s wings. You let out your held breath, which caused the strands of his hair to flutter. His arm was under your knees, and your arms were circled around his neck. Your head was resting on his shoulder. A small part of him wished he delayed in telling you that you had emerged from the water.  

He carefully set you down on the ground, steadying you by holding your elbow. You smiled up at him gratefully, then turned your head to the scenery in front of you.  

“Oh, did it rain?” you looked around. Indeed, there were shallow puddles on the dirt path that led to this pool, and the grass was glistening with water droplets. The air had that pure, refreshing quality of a passed storm. “It’s good that we missed it.”  

Neuvillette could only nod. There was something different here. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.   

“Shall we head back to the boat now? Oh, I hope it hasn’t gotten too drenched by the rain.”  

The two of you began to walk back to the beach. Neuvillette offered his elbow to you, worried that you might slip on the wet, muddy ground, and you linked your arm through it, thanking him. As you strolled down the path, your arms brushing against each other, it hit him, suddenly, what was different.  

The small space that you maintained between you and him had disappeared.  

The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink. Little birds chirped in the trees. As you neared the beach, Neuvillette saw ships of all sizes, either sailing back to Fontaine or setting off to distant harbors.  

Neither of you spoke much. Neuvillette was reminded of the calm and quiet after a storm, when everything was newly refreshed and washed clean.   

The tension he had sensed from you ever since he met you remained, but it seemed to have been chipped away a little bit. He still wasn’t sure what happened, but he was glad of it.   

All he knew was that he was a terrible judge of character.  

He had assumed that being a quiet, mild-mannered woman, he wouldn’t have the issue of having to deal with being overwhelmed by extreme emotions, but he was wrong.  

When he was with you, every emotion within him, from joy to sadness to anger, seemed magnified tenfold.  

The boat was there, right where he had docked it. Neuvillette did not have many chances to go boating, and he always preferred to swim anyways. However, recalling how your hair blew in the wind and how your eyes sparkled as you gazed out at sea, he was beginning to see its charms.  

“What a beautiful sunset!” he heard you exclaim. The orange sun was near the horizon, gilding the waves gold.   

For a moment, the two of you simply stared at the sight. Had a sunset ever been this mesmerizing before?  

“Neuvillette, let’s take a picture together with the sunset in the background. We never took a picture of just us together, have we?” you turned to him suddenly.  

For a moment, Neuvillette didn’t register your words. His mind was too preoccupied with the sunset, trying to figure out what made this one so different from the thousands he viewed before. And then, it struck him lightning.  

"You’re...calling my name without my title now.” That was the first thing that came out of his mouth. He inwardly cringed at his forwardness.   

“Um...yes,” you said, looking a little bashful. “To be honest, it is a little silly of me to keep calling you Monsieur for so long, since we’re friends. Do you hate it?”  

“No, not at all,” he shook his head vigorously. Hearing you call him by simply his name, even if it wasn’t his real name, sparked something in him. He felt like he was hearing his name for the first time when it came from your lips. “And yes, let us take a picture together.”  

You fiddled with the Kamera and walked around to get the right position and to figure out the timer function. Once that was done, you ran back to him, having placed the device on a nearby tree stump. There was five seconds before the Kamera would go off. Before this moment would be captured forever.  

“May I put my arm around your shoulders, Madame?” he asked. It felt wrong to just stand side by side.   

“Yes,” you nodded, and just as he did so, the Kamera’s flash went off.  

I hope I had a good expression on my face, he thought. Smiling on command was not an ability he possessed.   

“Shall we go now?” you said after you retrieved the Kamera. “It’ll be getting dark soon.”  

“Wait, there is one more thing I need,” he said. It was something he had been waiting for all day.  

“What is it?” You looked up at him.  

“Madame, do you remember how you said that you will give me feedback for the date? Would you allow me to receive it now?”  

“Feedback?” you repeated, your expression incredulous. “Wait, you actually want it?”  

“Yes, of course I do,” he said. “Your opinion means a great deal to me.”  

“If that's the case...” you tilted your head slightly, frowning. “I must admit that I have very little experience with dates and other romantic things of that nature. I’m not sure if my opinion would be very valuable.”  

“It does not matter. I want to know what you think.”  

"Alright then, if you insist,” you cleared your throat dramatically. Neuvillette leaned forward a little unconsciously. “In all my days of existence, I have never enjoyed myself more than today. If I were to suddenly drop dead right now, then at least I’m dying happy.”  

“Surely you exaggerate.” Neuvillette was never quite able to grasp your sense of humor.  

“Maybe a little,” you admitted, letting out a small laugh. There was something bright in it that made his heart beat just a little faster. “It’s definitely in my top ten, though. After all, I was able to go to places I’ve never been before, meet new people, and experience new things. And best of all, I had a delightful companion by my side. What more can I ask for?”  

“You truly think I’m a delightful companion?” It was rare for anyone to describe him that way.  

“I do,” you said, conviction in your voice. “Better than I deserve, really.”  

Neuvillette looked at you, taking you in. He felt a small amount of guilt upon hearing your words.   

Truthfully, he had chosen the locations for today’s outing—the Weeping Willow of Erinnyes and Merusea Village—not only because he wished to take you to his favorite places.   

He was driven by a selfish, vain desire to show himself in the best light to you by taking you to the places where he was most comfortable.  

Entertaining guests was not his strong suit. Taking a young lady out on a date was even less so. He lacked ideas as to where to take you, so he defaulted to these remote locations, far from the human world that he had little interest in.  

But as he looked at your content face, he felt something like a chasm within him. It was ever-widening, an inexplicable need to be filled.   

Self-indulgence was dangerous. He was well-aware of that. It would be difficult to escape such a trap, no matter how sweetly it beckoned.   

Perhaps his time in the human world had weakened his resolve.  

“Let me take you to a restaurant next time,” the words came out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. “I am no expert on cuisine, but...”  

“I’ll choose for us, then,” you said. “There are a few places I’ve been dying to try out.”  

Neuvillette nodded. He silently pledged to savor whatever was served to him, no matter how dry it may be.  

He reached out his hand to help you onto the boat, but you didn’t take it. Instead, you asked him a question.  

“Did you have a good time today, Neuvillette?”  

He was startled. “Why do you ask?”  

“Because this is a date. It’s a collaboration between two people. It's not a good date if only one of us enjoyed ourselves.”  

Neuvillette pondered your question. He thought of your look of wonder upon seeing the willow tree and Merusea Village, the sight of you playing and chatting with the dear Melusines, the little smiles you’d give him, the feel of you in his arms, the sensation of your hands in his hair and around his horns, the kiss...  

How could one day feel so long and yet so short at the same time?  

A rush of warmth surged through his body. He took your hand in his and raised it to his mouth. Then, before your astonished eyes, he brushed his lips against the back of your hand.  

“This day will be engraved into my memories until the end of time,” he said solemnly, looking directly into your eyes. “I have no complaints about anything. You were absolutely perfect.”  

He saw your cheeks becoming rosy. You looked away, but he didn’t miss the way your lips turned up in a smile. “And you say I exaggerate,” he heard you mumble.  

The two of you went onboard the boat and sailed back home.  

Previous | Next

Taglist:@just-simping-over-genshin, @xalphafox, @jqnehr, @favficdump, @thetwinkims, @cielclassy, @the-mxs-of-many, @mxyarylla, @lynettezz, @rosedpetal, @blue-sapphire-ink

[gozzer]

That night in a port he bought a bottle of cheap alcohol and drank it while cleaning away the mess on his skin. What a waste of a second chance. He washed the blood and mud off before sitting down in the bathing chamber to get his hair soaked through. Nothing with artificial scents were ever used on his hair or skin - because his nose was too sensitive to them - but he quite liked the faint citrusy aroma that came with the soap he had. It was one that he had found on some backwater space port years ago that he continued to buy. He would probably cry when the port stopped importing it or the planet it came from was destroyed; which was always a possibility.

The act of cleaning his hair was something that he had to plan for. When on Home Base it was always done the day before going on a mission and afterwards while in port. Here, though, he knew it needed to be done but he was closer to drunk than sober. He dropped his head back against the glass wall behind him and lifted the almost empty bottle to take another drink. It needed to be done but he wasn’t in the mood.

Raditz smashed the empty bottle on the wall opposite him and ran both hands down his face. The heat of the water made the newest scars he sported ache. His tail tip flicked from where it rested on the edge of the tub, dripping water onto the metal floor. He groaned and leaned forward to actually get started on his hair. The sooner it was clean, the sooner he could get some sleep. But even with that thought he struggled to scrub away the mud. It was so long and he was tired. The heavy black strands filled the space around him like a suffocating shadow. Things would be easier if he just cut it all off.

His eyes slid over to where the broken bottle sat outside the tub. With a drunken sway, he leaned over the edge and out as far as he could to grab the largest piece of glass he could reach. Once it was clutched in his hand, he grabbed a chunk of his hair and pulled it over his shoulder. He held the glass up to it. For a long while he simply stared at it before he made the first swipe of the broken edge over the thick strands. Right at his shoulder.

The strands fell like a black waterfall into the tub. Raditz cut through the first chunk of hair before grabbing more to do the same. Over and over until he was left covered in loose hair and regrets. The water washed the strands off his skin as he got to his feet. He dropped the glass shard back outside the tub and scrubbed the evidence away. Never in his life had he had hair this short. Even as a kid it was always down his back and almost to his knees, but now it barely brushed his shoulders. The lightness had tears burning his eyes. What had he done? That was his hair, his pride and joy.

When the last bit had washed from his skin, he slowly cleaned what was left of his hair with a heavy heart. It used to hang just below his knees and took upwards of an hour or two to completely wash it. He was done in ten minutes. With a sniff, he scrubbed away the tears and stepped out of the tub to dry off. There was little need for it but he tied up the short hair before falling into bed, exhausted and drunk and full of regret.

Morning came around with the proof that it hadn’t been a dream. Raditz stared at his reflection in the mirror for a quiet moment before smashing it beneath his fist. He tugged the smooth strands into a tail to keep it off his neck and could have cried at the way some of them were too short. They settled back on his neck and over his forehead as the normal heavy weight of the rest of his hair wasn’t there to keep them in check. Taking a bobby pin out of the space between his armor and his shirt, he pinned the loose strands up but decided to leave those over his forehead alone. He couldn’t be bothered with all of that right now. Not with his hangover.

“You look like an idiot,” Nappa said upon meeting in the docks.

“So?” Raditz put the docking card into the reader to unlock his attack ball. “At least I have hair to do shit with.”

“You’re in a bad mood this morning.” A hand landed on his shoulder before he could climb into the pod. “You’ll have more than a bad day if you think about deserting again.”

“I know,” he glared over his shoulder at the man, “now let me go so we can fuckin’ leave.”

The hand gave his shoulder a tight squeeze before letting go. He bit his tongue against saying something else and climbed into his attack ball. For the first time not having to worry about his hair getting in the way. It wasn’t a relief. In fact, he hated everything about not having his hair annoying the shit out of him. This was one of the biggest regrets of his life and would be until it finally grew back.

[legends-live-in-memories]

Of Mice and Men

AYO back with day 5 of biodad!bruce wayne month! lets get it! I’ll leave this up to interpretation on whether this takes place before or after day 1...

Maribat Masterlist   AO3 @maribat-bdbwm 

Word count: 1.4K words

Summary:

“Has it ever occurred to you that the world does not revolve around you?” Was that supposed to be a joke? She sounded closer, probably ten feet away now. “Did you ever think that I might have business here, completely separate from your work?”

“So it’s a coincidence then.”

“Exactly.”

“Not likely.”

The night when Bruce met Sabine

BD!Bruce Wayne Day 5- Stories/Memories

without further ado:

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The words were out before he could even think them over. He was on a mission in Japan, tracking down a Penguin shipment that managed to leave Gotham under his watch. The subject of his question was an anomaly that had been following him since his arrival at the docks. She clung to the shadows, trailing him the entire distance, not breathing a word to him. If she were here to assassinate him, she would have done so. No, she had other motivations in being his tail and the secrecy was grating on his nerves.

“What ever do you mean?” Her voice was small, barely whispered into the night air, but he heard it nonetheless.

“You’re following me. Why?”

“Has it ever occurred to you that the world does not revolve around you?” Was that supposed to be a joke? She sounded closer, probably ten feet away now. “Did you ever think that I might have business here, completely separate from your work?”

“So it’s a coincidence then.”

“Exactly.”

“Not likely.” Coincidences don’t just happen in this line of work. He needed to know more. He needed to keep her talking.

“Don’t believe me?” The humor was evident in her tone.

“No I don’t.”

“Too bad.” And that was the end of the conversation. Bruce kept moving, no longer letting himself get distracted. He would deal with her later. But first, the mission.

“It’s simple, really. I got you to look after me,” the woman beside him said after minutes of silence. He took the opportunity to assess her. The lower half of her face was covered in a dark grey cloth. It blended into her outfit, what looked like a grey kevlar body suit with white and dark pink accents. Bruce didn’t know where she came from, or what she was doing here but he didn’t have time for more questions. She continued to speak, her eyes never meeting his, “and you got me to look after you, and that’s why.”

“You want to use me as cover, in case whatever it is that you’re doing goes south.”

“Exactly.”

“I’d be a lot more helpful if I knew what you were doing.”

“There’s a man… that has something that doesn’t belong to him. It’s my job to retrieve it.” She looked at him with a challenge in her eyes, daring him to ask more. No matter, as long as it doesn’t interfere with his take down of Penguin’s shipment he would agree to work in tandem just for tonight. He let his silence answer her and decided to move to finally initiate his job.

It was easy work and the mystery woman moved in a way that actually impressed him. She used a whip, an unusual pink, but it mattered not when it would thwip and snap like an extension of her arm. She was an expert. Her short stature worked to her advantage, weaving in and out of harm’s way. It was like watching a mouse evade a series of cats and traps. If he were any less of a man he would have been thoroughly distracted watching her.

In no time the cargo was secured and on his hidden jet, ready for deployment. All that was left was to deal with the mystery woman.

Turning to where he left her, he couldn’t understand what he was seeing. There were now two of them. Acting and operating as separate, distinct individuals. Twins? Where has the other one been? Those thoughts didn’t last long however because in a flash of light the two women merged to become one.

Magic.

Of course.

As if she just remembered he was there, she turned to him with mirth in her eyes. He was ready to retract his offer of assistance but he never got the chance.

“Well, I guess this is where we part ways.” She spoke, no room for arguments. In her hand that wasn’t holding her whip sat a rather large talisman. He couldn’t discern what it was but he felt a sense of foreboding wash over him. “I will be seeing you again, I’m sure.”

He moved to intercept her but a cloud of smoke erupted in his face. As it cleared he was left with nothing in his line of sight. Not even a shadow of the woman was left. He was at an impasse with himself. Track her down or return the cargo back to Gotham? Magic users weren’t his forte and he would rather not tangle himself in a situation he did not fully comprehend. But the idea of an unknown, who so easily slipped under his defenses, running loose had him grinding his teeth. Making a mental note to find an excuse to return and stay in the country longer, he set out to Gotham. This wouldn’t be the last time he saw her, he would make sure of it.

Oh how right he was.

Bruce woke with a jolt, remnants of his sleep still lingering on the edges of his mind. The pattering of rain on his window was calming, a natural melody to rouse his sleep-addled brain. He thought back to his dream, his resurfaced memories. He thought back to Sabine and her steel gray eyes that could freeze him in place. Her dry wit and quick-thinking that saved her in a fight more than her skills did. He wasn’t certain back then, even though he was determined to uncover her when they first met that night in Japan, but they would meet again. And again. And Again. So much so that it was only natural that they would come together the way they did. He was still grieving from Talia’s rejection and the news of their seemingly lost son, and she was accepting of their no-strings-attached agreement.

Except there were strings. Their arrangement ended when she found companionship in another man and he was far too willing to give her up at the first opportunity. Love was never on the table between the two of them. But now, about a decade later, Bruce couldn’t help the what if’s and the why not’s. He needed to clear his head.

Untangling himself from his bed sheets, he threw a robe over his shoulders and stepped onto his bedroom balcony. The rain was frigid against his bare skin and the dark clouds casted a shadow over the mid-morning sun. The air was crisp and tasted of the early November chill that would begin to settle over the next few days. He basked in all the sensations, filling his lungs with the taste of the life he’s lived thus far. Memories of another morning, one just like this, began to run free in his mind.

“This will be the last time we meet like this,” warm fingers ran down his chest, an even warmer body pressed into his side. He was almost lulled to sleep by the song of the spring showers that played against the window panes. Her ever soft voice, however, called his attention away from the calls of sleep. “I found someone. Someone I can’t afford to lose.”

“Me too,” he heard himself say. He didn’t know if it was his subconscious calling out to his lost love or reaching for the one so close yet so unreachable.

“It was fun while it lasted.” It was.

“But the real world does not stop for fun.” It doesn’t.

“Maybe in a different life,” he said.

“Maybe in a different time,” she answered. His ear heard more than what was said to him, and her slow speech had overtones not of thought, but of understanding beyond thought. He grabbed for the hand that brushed over his heart and brought them to his lips, kissing the words he would never say into her fingertips.

He never told anyone of his rendezvous with the woman he knew as Sabine. Those meetings were just for him. He wasn’t Batman and he wasn’t Bruce Wayne in those nights. His investigation into her magic went unresolved and he never ran into her outside those encounters. It was a fleeting fling. One that left him with longing and yearning buried so deep even he could pretend it didn’t exist, that it never existed.

How foolish of him.

[aminiatureworld]

Melusine

Characters: Albedo, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,221

Warnings: Brief depiction of pseudo-drowning

Premise: In which the reader’s somewhat inexplicable fear of water prompts questioning

Author’s Note: This prompt reminded me of the book (and series) The Tail of Emily Windsnap, which, if you haven’t read at least the first book, you totally should read as it’s just really a wonderful read. The descriptions of the ocean are especially atmospheric. Anyways, as for the prompt, I had a lot of fun. I tried to write a mermaid story in middle school and while it didn’t go that well I have a lot of nostalgia for the mermaid genre. Though this was more about the discovery than actually being a mermaid.

Also the title is a pseudo-historical reference.

Albedo

The first time it had happened Albedo had brushed off the whole incident as completely explainable. After all, it wasn’t as if you hadn’t explained what had happened.

You two had been sitting on one of the craggy hills of the Whispering Woods, you sprawled on the grass, Albedo attempting to paint a landscape of Mondstadt, one of the more ambitious paintings in his current portfolio. Especially since he had traded his more opaque oils for the gentler tones of watercolors. At one point he must have made some sort of noise of frustration, for you lifted yourself out of the shade and made your way over to the canvas.

“That looks absolutely lovely Albedo!” Your smile had always had a calming affect on the alchemist, and this time was no different. Albedo could feel the tension slowly leeching away from his shoulders.

“Do you think so? I’m afraid that I still can’t handle all the odd shadows the buildings cast.”

“The buildings look perfect to me! Though if you feel that way, maybe you could lighten the side facing the sun a little more instead of darkening the area over here? So the shade doesn’t become too muddy.”

“You have a wonderful eye, you know,” Albedo replied, smiling at the way your mind had immediately jumped to the conclusion that he had drawn as well. Reaching for the bowl of water next to him Albedo went to water his brush a little more before trying again.

Unfortunately that’s when things appeared to have taken a turn for the wrong. Instead of reaching over the bowl Albedo’s elbow collided with the glass. Though the grass was soft and close enough to prevent any damage, that didn’t stop all the muddied water from spilling out over the brim and right over you. You let out a sort of squeak, and for a moment Albedo though it was just the initial shock, but then the expression on your face came into view and Albedo could immediately sense you were seconds away from panic.

“Is something wrong?”

“I, I don’t like water very much,” you let out a strained laugh. “I just, I don’t know. I really, really don’t like water.”

“I’m so sorry,” Albedo immediately replied.

Taking off his coat he did his best to dry you off, wiping off your arms and attempting a valiant effort with your now sopping clothes. Though you assured him that it would be alright the alchemist could sense those were only platitudes, and it wasn’t until you seemed significantly calmer that Albedo turned to pick up the bowl and refill it in Cider Lake. And though a part of his mind wished to delve deeper into what had happened he pulled himself back, figuring it wouldn’t help you if he was suddenly enquiring over something you were afraid of.

Now perhaps that should have been the long and the short of it, but the revelation had begun to make Albedo see water everywhere and, more importantly, see how much it appeared to affect you every time you appeared to come in close contact with it.

Thankfully you didn’t seem to have trouble with water in glasses, at least as long as someone was actively drinking it. If not however you would glance at the glass every so often, as if it were your mortal enemy, waiting to catch you off guard to it might tip its contents all over your clothes. Other things, like obsessively drying your wands after washing them and draping layers of towels over your shoulders when you washed your hair, also became apparent. Suddenly Albedo couldn’t stop noticing your discomfort, and the more he noticed the more he wished he could do something about it.

“Exposure therapy?”

“Yes.”

You were sitting on Albedo’s desk, leaning slightly over your partner, a slightly bemused look on your face. It had been about three weeks since the incident, and finally Albedo thought he might have found some sort of solution to your problem. Now he eagerly pressed forward, figuring you’d understand once he’d explained everything fully.

“I know that it might seem counterproductive to subject you to what gets a frightened reaction out of you, but if you subject a person to something they’re afraid of in very small doses over a long period of time, usually they begin to feel a little less afraid of the thing in question. It’s sort of like how you can sometimes make allergies less serious by slowly exposing the patient to more and more of the allergen.”

“I understand where your line of thought is coming from Albedo, but I’m really not sure if this is the best idea for me.”

“I know that it might seem daunting at first. I would not bring up the topic if you didn’t seem so miserable sometimes. I worry that you might become so unhappy by your fear that it will become debilitating eventually. That is why I decided to bring up the option.”

“I really appreciate you going out of your way to think about me Albedo. I really do. I think what you’re trying to do is very kind and noble of you. But in all honesty I don’t think that’s going to work. You see, the way my fear works, I just don’t think that exposure is going to make it go away.”

“Are you sure?” Albedo pressed on, still hoping that you might see the benefit in what he was suggesting. “It won’t start with something drastic I promise. And at the end of the day, I think that it will help a lot.”

“I understand that, I really do, but like I said my fear doesn’t work that way.” You paused, as if sensing the sinking of your partner’s heart, before smiling slightly. “If it makes you feel any better I promise to give it some more thought. Alright?”

“Thank you,” Albedo replied, though in his mind he knew that you thinking about it probably wouldn’t change anything.

Thus the cycle continued, with Albedo growing more and more uneasy. He didn’t bring it up with you again, sensing it would be walking over some invisible line, but still his mind whirled in trying to understand what you meant. If your fear wasn’t simply irrational, then surely something must have happened once. Though the alchemist didn’t pry, surely if you wanted him to know you would tell him in your own time, he had to admit that sometimes his brain went off on various daydreams, as if trying to decide for itself what might have happened.

As it turned out, Albedo didn’t have to speculate for long. Nor did the truth come out the way that he had expected.

You two were on the very small dock at Cider Lake, checking the rafts were tied down properly before the beginning of the stormy season that wreaked havoc through Mondstadt once every year. Though normally you probably would have never done such a thing the Guild was spread thin, preparing for storms, though not nearly as fierce as Dvalin’s winds, that would blow shingles off roofs and destabilize the occasional out of place rock on the wall. As of such the task of shielding the boats used to carry supplies from the City to the larger Mondstadt region had fallen to you. Albedo had tagged along, knowing how uncomfortable the experience might make you feel, and unwilling to leave you alone in a state of anxiety.

“These remaining boats are the ones we need to tie down. They’re too big to be stored in the sheds inside the City.”

“I see,” Albedo replied, already moving to nail the tarp down on one of them as you secured the roping. Already the air seemed alive with the fresh smell of impending rain.

“It’s too bad really, we can’t guarantee these boats’ safety the way we can the others. Thankfully these ones are mostly insured by the Knights. Though really maybe we should build a larger shed,” you mused to yourself, keeping up the tell-tale stream of conversation that Albedo knew you used to distract yourself.

“Perhaps you can make a query via the Guild?”

“Perhaps,” you mused. “Or I might be able to ask Amber.”

Albedo replied that would be a good idea, turning to put another temporary nail onto the top of the longboat. All seemed alright for a moment, then there was a shriek and a terrific splashing sound. Whirling around Albedo had just enough time to find your head in the water before you seemed to seize up and your head dipped below the still crystal-clear waves.

Immediately Albedo stripped himself of his coat and dove in. Though no amazing swimmer himself the alchemist was hardly the worst at staying afloat, and even if he only knew a select few amount of swim strokes that paled in comparison to the idea of you drowning. Making his way over to you he fought the panic rising up inside of him, the part of his brain that said it would be much more difficult to rescue someone terrified of water.

However almost as soon as Albedo approached you he noticed that something was distinctly off. Firstly you didn’t seem like you were drowning, in fact you appeared quite graceful in the water, swishing softly back and forth. Secondly the reason for said grace quickly became apparent to Albedo. For in the spot where your legs should have been, indeed in the spot where your legs had been mere moment ago was something long and slightly shimmery and distinctly fish-like.

Letting his mouth fall open Albedo immediately hoisted himself up above the water, choking on the gasp of breath he had found himself taking. What was that, what in all of Teyvat was that? You were half fish. How were you half fish? Did such a thing even exist, for Albedo had certainly never heard of it! Though the alchemist later admitted that in the moment such fantasy creatures as merfolk had completely fallen out of his head, there was something distinctly different than reading about something in a book and seeing it in real life.

Dragging himself onto the shores of Cider Lake, Albedo waited for you to emerge, still breathing heavily from what had just passed. His brain seemed to shut off them, for he found himself with no questions to ask. You were a mermaid, you were simply a mermaid. There was nothing more to do or say about it.

Eventually you joined him on the beach. Albedo watched in an odd sort of fascination as your legs emerged from the scaley fin which your lower body was now made up of. For a moment individual spots of iridescent seemed to remain, but soon your limbs were back to normal, ignoring the fact that you were soaking wet.

“So now you know why I said exposure therapy wouldn’t work out,” you said, letting a grim sort of laugh escape your lips.

“You… you are a… a…”

“A merfolk, yeah,” you laughed awkwardly. “Not sure why I get stuck with the weird power that is more annoying than good but, you know, oops?”

Albedo could sense your vulnerability, but try as he might he couldn’t get the words to come out of his throat. For a moment he sat there, gasping like a fish, but finally the expression of muted misery on your face wormed its way into his brain and finally Albedo felt as if he had regained some ability to talk.

“I think it’s fascinating.”

“Of course you do.”

“No, really. And not just because this is something I’ve never experienced or seen before. Though it was really surprising, it was also wonderful. As an alchemist you study all the wonders and anomalies of nature, and in doing so you see all these differences aren’t just something to be written down, but they also beautiful. And so I think you’re really beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you replied, though you still seemed uncomfortable. “I just, yeah…”

Reaching over to find your hand in his Albedo squeezed your palm softly. For a moment you did nothing, then, slowly, you leaned your head on Albedo’s shoulder. Letting you stay there Albedo found himself wishing that he could convey all the emotions he felt in that moment to you.

“I know that it can be difficult to talk about things that you’ve kept secret, especially when you feel like they make you stand out in a bad way. But I promise, there is nothing wrong with that. And I hope if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way that I can apologize.”

“Thanks Albedo,” you murmured. “You don’t have to say sorry, but thanks anyways.”

“Always.”

“I love you, you know?”

“I love you too.”

Albedo planted a soft kiss on your forehead. As the boats sat, woefully forgotten, the two of you basked in each other’s presence. For Albedo a mystery had been solved, and explanation given that, while not necessarily scientific, was certainly satisfactory. Yet at that moment he couldn’t care less about it. All he could think about was how lonely it must have been, and how, if he could help it, you would never feel isolated in your discomfort or in your secret ever again.

[rolandtowen]

Dumbass Romantics, the first part of a series exploring the ways in which Sokka and Zuko falling in love after the War. 

Sokka and Zuko seem to keep “accidentally” flirting with each other with romantic gestures from their respective cultures. It takes a while for everyone else (and them!!) to catch on. Set a few months after the end of the war, featuring chronic pain and cultural flirting.

Read it under the cut!

The Fire Lord hated the cold. He supposed he should have commissioned a fur cloak before visiting Katara and Sokka, but where could his tailors find fur on such short notice? He couldn’t bring himself to slaughter dozens of squirrel-toads just for one coat. He had settled on a cloak woven with extra koala-sheep wool, but stepping out of his ship’s warmth now and into the crisp air of the Southern Water Tribe, Zuko knew he should have heeded Sokka’s advice to him to dress warm.

The cold was a bitch. But thankfully, he didn’t have to dwell on it long.

“Zuko!” Came Katara’s voice from somewhere below him. Zuko hurried down the rampart and came to meet his old friend. He went to bow formally, but she laughed and pulled him in for a hug. “Maybe save the bowing for when we have dinner with the old folks tonight.”

Zuko raised his eyebrow.

“Oh! It’s nothing big – just my Dad, Bato, Kanna, and Pakku. I do hope you’ve worked up an appetite for stewed sea prunes, that’s all my Dad can make without blowing the kitchen up – unless you’re allergic to sea prunes, of course, but I guess you wouldn’t know yet seeing as you’ve never tried them—”

“Katara,” Sokka’s voice startled Zuko a little bit, coming from his left side. Zuko shifted his head so he could hear him better. “You’re rambling again. Let the man breathe!” Zuko let out a low chuckle and turned to fully face Sokka.

“It’s good to see you too, Sokka.”

“And you, jerkbender! Spirits, aren’t you cold? I told you bring layers!”

The trio started to walk towards Katara and Sokka’s village. Zuko pondered what he should say: admit weakness and say he was, in fact, cold; or be miserable for the rest of his visit in silence?

“I’m okay, it’s just that the Fire Nation hasn’t ever had a need to make warm clothing. My tailors wouldn’t even know where to start on finding fur for a cloak.”

“Well then,” Sokka said, “it’s lucky for you that we have polar leopards!” And with that, Sokka unclipped the fur-lined cloak he was wearing and draped it over Zuko’s shoulders, fastening the metal clips with practiced ease. Zuko was shocked.

“Sokka, I can’t take your cloak!” He protested, stopping in his tracks.

“Relax, jerkbender, there’s more where that came from. When are you going to learn to dress up for your visits, dork?”

Katara chimed in. “The last time Zuko was here, his body temperature was elevated by his righteous search for the Avatar. I’m sure peace and love have probably cooled your hot head off quite a bit, huh?”

Zuko only hummed, looking down at the cloak that had been thrust upon him. It really was, quite warm. And quite intricate as well! He ran his fingers over the moon phases embroidered at the seams, a striking white against the deep blue of the cloak.

“Enjoying my handiwork?” Katara asked.

“Yeah, I am.” Zuko answered in a daze.

He wasn’t sure if he should tell them what it meant in Fire Nation culture, to place your own cloak on another’s shoulders, to literally and figuratively place another under your protection. Really, Zuko couldn’t remember the last time he had been given anything as a gift. Charity was not a concept Ozai was familiar with. Sokka couldn’t have possible known that what he just did was like the Fire Nation equivalent of a betrothal necklace. Still, it did leave Zuko touched that Sokka would so willingly give over such a valuable garment. He decided to leave the matter alone and revel in the warmth of the cloak.

“Sooooooooo, do you wanna go fishing together?”

Zuko sighed. He was a little bored. When they got back to the village, Katara had immediately ditched them to go help Kanna and Hakoda prep for the night’s family dinner. Leaving him and Sokka to do…. whatever until dinner time rolled around.

“Uh, I don’t really know how to fish—”

“That’s alright! I can teach you. Just grab your cloak!” Sokka leapt up and swept out the door. “You are coming, right?” Sokka called from afar.

“Yeah, I’m coming!” Zuko hollered back. He fiddled with the clasp on Sokka’s – er, his cloak—and stepped back into the cold.

Sokka was at the edge of the village, spears in hand. “You ever been on a kayak before?”

Zuko chuckled. “No, the ships I’ve been tend to carry more than one person, I don’t suppose you’ve got one of those?”

Sokka punched him in the shoulder. “We can’t use one of the warrior’s boats, we’ll scare the fish!” Oh. That made sense. “Now I get it, you really don’t know anything about fishing, do you? What have you got to say for yourself?”

“Two things: one, prince; two, fire nation. We much prefer Komodo sausage to seal jerky.”

“Well, your hotness, let me show you how it’s done.” Sokka hopped into one kayak, patting the one next him. “I assume you at least know how to use a paddle?”

Zuko laughed. “I may have been an adrift refugee once or twice. I think I can handle a paddle.”

“Good,” Sokka smiled at him as he climbed into the one-seater kayak. Zuko took a few moments to adjust to the shift in his center of gravity, then nodded at Sokka.

“Let’s catch some fish.”

It turns out, Zuko is not a natural at spear-fishing. He watched closely the first few times Sokka threw his spear, bringing up fish each time. “Go on, try it,” Sokka encouraged him. Zuko looked into the depths and tried to aim for the blurry shadows he took to be fish. His spear came up empty. “That’s okay! It took me a few fishing trips before I really go the hang of it.” Sokka analyzed his form. “Make sure you extend your arm a bit before your release the spear, then you can change your angle more easily.”

Zuko nodded, mirroring the way Sokka was holding his spear. They waited in silence, kayaks knocking gently into each other on the waves. A fresh school of fish appeared underneath them, and they released their spears at the same time. This time, even Zuko had caught a fish! Only one, compared to Sokka’s two, but it was his first fish! Sokka smiled widely at him. “I knew you could do it.”

“I guess I should call you Sifu Sokka now, my fishbending master.” Zuko quipped.

Sokka blushed and he hoped the gathering snow hid it from Zuko. “I think we should probably get back; you don’t want to miss Dad’s stewed sea prunes.

“Definitely not.” Zuko replied. “What, what does one do with a fish once they’ve caught it?”

“It depends – I think it being your first fish, we should celebrate it! What do you say to making some boiled fish dumplings?”

“I think that if you’re teaching me, it’ll be wonderful.”

If it was even humanly possible, Sokka blushed harder.

When they docked their kayaks, Zuko noticed that Sokka was favoring one of his arms over the other. Normally, it wouldn’t be strange to see a person favoring a side, but Zuko knew Sokka was ambidextrous. He didn’t say anything, so Zuko kept his observations to himself. Kanna met them outside her home, and positively beamed when Sokka told her that Zuko had caught his first fish.

“Well, better a late bloomer than never, eh?” Zuko laughed but still bowed his head in deference.

“It is very nice to finally meet you, Lady Kanna. Sokka has told me much about you in your letters.”

“Oh, he has, has he?” Kanna gave a mean side-eye to Sokka, who was suddenly very interested in the icy ground. “He’s told me about you as well. You have my gratitude – I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if you hadn’t gone to the Boiling Rock.”

“It was my pleasure, Lady Kanna.”

“Just Kanna, just Kanna, my dear. Well, come in! I see Sokka has leant you a cloak, but you still must be freezing! In, in!” Kanna shooed them inside. “I will take special care of your first fish, Zuko. Anything you had in mind?”

“Uh, dumplings?”

“Excellent choice, dear. Fish dumplings coming right up!” She disappeared into the kitchen of the home.

Sokka sat down on floor, covered by blue fabrics and pelts. Zuko noticed how gingerly he set himself down, now obviously favoring his right side. Sokka’s lips were drawn tightly as he rubbed circles into his left shin. Zuko could have almost swore he heard Sokka whimper. Almost.

“Sokka,” Zuko knelt down next to his friend. “Talk to me.”

“Mmph,” Sokka scowled.

“Words, Sokka.”

“It’s mostly my leg—you know how I broke it on the day of the Comet?”

Zuko grimaced. He did remember. Even in his lightening-induced fever, Zuko remembered. He heard his physicians set Sokka’s leg and pop his shoulder back in place. He wanted to forget those sounds of Sokka in pain, but he couldn’t.

“Well,” Sokka continued. “Ever since then, it still… it still hurts. Katara’s tried everything, but I’m probably stuck with it forever. My leg hurts the worst, but my shoulder’s the most inconvenient. I’m old enough to start putting braids in my wolf tail, but I just—can’t. I can’t lift my arm above shoulder-level. And I know I’m wallowing to the guy who literally got half his face burned off but—”

“But nothing, Sokka. You’re allowed to be in pain. Here, you know what, pull up your pant leg—”

“Geez, buy a guy dinner first will you?”

Zuko blushed but Sokka did as he was told, exposing his left shin and ankle. Zuko focused a little bit of heat into the palms of his hands. He placed one on Sokka’s ankle, scanning his face for any pain. When Sokka relaxed into the touch, Zuko placed his other hand on Sokka’s shin, applying the slightest bit of pressure.

“You know, with those hands you could almost be a healer like Katara.”

Zuko snorted. “And you need to learn to let people help you.” After a few minutes, he pulled his hands away, fearing that if he kept them there too long he’d burn his friend. “If you want, I can help you braid your hair. I won’t even tell Katara.”

Sokka smiled shyly at him. He guessed Zuko didn’t know the importance of braiding another’s hair in water tribe culture—reserved for family members and, well, lovers. But Zuko was kneeling in front of him, in a water tribe cloak, offering to help him with a warrior tradition. After everything they’d been through, Zuko was family—and maybe, he could be open to being something more?

“Okay,” Sokka nodded. He pulled two beads from his pocket, both striking shades of blue, one carved by Kanna and one by Katara. “You know how my Dad wears his beads? It’s the same idea.”

“I caught my first fish today, I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I can’t do now.” Zuko settled himself closer to Sokka’s face. “I’m going to let your hair down now, is that okay?” Sokka nodded again.

Zuko took out the hair tie and separated two sections of hair thick enough to support the beads. For lack of another set of hands, he resorted to holding the sections in his mouth while he carded the rest of Sokka’s back into place and tied it into the wolf’s tail again. Sokka was suddenly very aware of how close Zuko was to him—more specifically how he never wanted him to leave. He loved the warmth that radiated from him, but furthermore, he couldn’t remember the last time someone helped him with his hair. He hadn’t asked anyone since he got back from the war, and while they were on the run… he was focused on more important things than his hair. Sokka risked a look at Zuko’s face: he was rewarded with Zuko’s adorable concentration face. Wait, adorable? Where had that come from?

“How do you know how to braid, anyway? I didn’t see a whole lot of braids in the Fire Nation.”

“My mother used to let me braid her hair when I was feeling anxious or overwhelmed. You know, it’s calming, repetitive, doesn’t involve fire—perfect for mess of emotional issues like me.”

“Hey, you’re not a mess.”

Zuko laughed darkly.

“Well, not anymore than the rest of us. We all already had our own issues and then a war happened on top of that. You were just lecturing me on letting people help me. You don’t have to be alone in this.”

Zuko’s fingers trembled as he finished the second braid. “I know. I’m still getting used to having people I can actually trust.”

Kanna suddenly called from the kitchen. “Are you two done lounging around or are you going to help an old woman with this fish?”

They looked at each other and laughed. They did kind of forget about everyone except each other.

“Hey, Zuko,” Sokka started as Zuko stood up and held out a hand for him.

“Yeah?”

“You can braid my hair anytime you want.”

Zuko resisted simultaneous urges to bow and to hug Sokka. He smiled instead.

“I’d like that.”

Bonus:

Kanna had heard everything of course. But she couldn’t bear to interrupt them sooner. Tui and La, if those two didn’t end up together she’d have a riot. In the few months since Sokka had been home with her, he hadn’t opened up to anyone about his pain. And he certainly hadn’t asked anyone for help with his braids.

Spirits, those two were good for each other. Dumbasses in love.

[morgana-ren]

Come Down to the Black Sea (II)

Here’s the second part to this fic! In case you’re not caught up, here’s the first! (Part One)

There’s a sickly sweet sense of satisfaction that tugs his blistering lips into a sharp grin when you inevitably return. You couldn’t stay away from the ocean even after your traumatic encounter with him. The pull is too strong, and while any normal person would stay far, far away from the shoreline after learning what stalks beyond the edge of the sand, you’re not any normal person, are you?   

Oh no, you’re much too brave for that. Or maybe much too foolish.

The next time he sees you, he has to admit, you look different than what he’d gotten used to. Maybe a little less aloof. Maybe a little more vigilant. Perhaps even a hint of visible bitterness that his presence taints your peaceful metaphorical sanctum. Your thinly pulled sneer and cautious glances hint at something akin to spite and he’s unsure if the snub intrigues or enrages him further. 

You keep your distance at first, sitting far back on the concrete curb only a few meters from the tarmac of the dimly lit parking lot. You look out, squirming uncomfortably as you stare long to the ocean as if you're trying to relax but failing miserably. The souring experience with the sea creature has poisoned any semblance of tranquility you found before, and your resentful vigilance is written plainly on your features. Even as your muscles pull taut from the tension you’re holding in, the skin beneath your eyes still crinkles as you occasionally search out in the distance for the telltale sign of silvery hair or leering crimson eyes beneath the murky waves. 

He lets you have your comfort days, keeping himself hidden well in the shadowed waters as you regain your footing and attempt to trust the thought of the ocean and her creatures again. As he predicts, every moonrise, you move slightly closer to the sea. Only slightly, but it's more than most of your kind would do given the circumstances.

He's curious if you believe he's moved on by now. After all, he's been a good boy. He hasn't drowned any swimmers in weeks, and more boats have made it to dock than usually do when he’s skulking the depths. 

Humans expect most other creatures to react to their presence being known in one way; fear. In all of your novels, movies, all of your self indulgent garbage, the creatures flee in the face of the mighty human race or face ultimate destruction. Your hubris blinds you. He's not going anywhere. Not until he's gotten what he came for.

Not long after you return to the beach and his impatience reaches an insurmountable peak. He pops his flaxen head up to the surface and studies you until you inevitably realize you’re not alone. Your initial reaction is one he expects, and that’s fear. Your secondary reaction however? That one is the one that grates at him. Irritation. You’re irritated at him. 

You don't flee from your spot like he thought you might, but you visibly tense up for a moment. Once your rationality takes over once more, he swears you shake your fucking head at him as you tear your eyes away from his general direction. The unmitigated gall of some humans. He cannot deny that it sparks his interest, though.

He stays the night with his gaze fixed on you; a gaze you don't return. In fact, you actively keep it pulled away for the duration of your stay. It irks him more than it ought to. Are you trying to pretend he isn’t real?

How dare you ignore him. You didn't even know he existed until recently and you think you can go back to pretending you don't know? Is your arrogance so overwhelming that you'll turn a blind eye to him over petty hurt feelings?

Okay, maybe he tried to drown you, but if you had just returned his call, it never had to be this way. You would be dead and he would be miles down the coast, wreaking havoc on some new stretch of land. Instead, he's stuck here in a battle of stubbornness with some human idiot because you couldn't just die like you were supposed to.

What makes you so goddamn special?

Well to hell with that and to hell with you. You’re nothing. Just another ordinary human girl, and he'll drag you to the trenches if it's the last thing he does. He swears it. 

That night and every night after, he allows you to see him. His eyes might as well be the lighthouse to his location, and if that wasn't enough, you can always make out the silver mop of hair somewhere in the distance. He calls to you and he knows you can feel it. He sees you jerk instinctively towards the ocean, having to consciously keep yourself rooted to the ground, but you always manage to resist somehow. 

It infuriates him, rage building deep in his gut as he sees trickles of light from the sun climb over the horizon and paint the sky with yellows and lavenders as a harbinger of the daylight, and thus the end of his time with you. He watches the rising tide erase your footsteps every morning only to be replaced the following evening, inching ever closer to his territory. 

'Patience' He reminds himself.

Sure enough, one evening as the moon pulls over the sky, you're situated yourself once again on the rocks where you first met, albeit further back than he'd like. You learn from your mistakes, it seems. Unfortunate. For him at least. 

He cautiously swims to the edge of your makeshift perch, hoisting himself up slightly out of the water once more and resting his head on his crossed wrist as he blinks his large red eyes up at you. You still refuse to return the favor, despite the fact he knows that you’re aware of him based on the way you pull your body further into itself when he makes his appearance. The silence lasts for several minutes before he opts to speak, growing weary of being ignored. 

"I knew you'd be back." 

You don't even so much as nod. 

"It's rude to ignore someone. Where are your manners?" 

Despite his persistence, you refuse him the attention he craves. Something wells in the pit of his stomach that feels a bit too much like the humiliating sting of rejection, and he doesn't like that one bit. He doesn't like being ignored.

He brings his arm back and spreads his webbed fingers, letting the water pool around the center of his palm before slapping his hand in your direction. Stark cold sea water drenches the entirety of your front and he watches in amusement as your skin pimples and you recoil, frozen in shock for several seconds. He can't help but chuckle when you begin to screech, angrily wiping your face and yanking at your doused clothing that slaps against your skin with each movement. Try to ignore that. 

"What the FUCK!"

"Don't ignore me, brat." 

Your face contorts and soon you're hissing and sputtering, unable to formulate words in your fit of pure rage. A smug little grin plays on his mouth as he rests his head in his palm, watching as you fail miserably to find some venom to spit back in his face. 

"Are you kidding me? You tried to fucking drown me and you’re pissed I’m ignoring you?" 

He shrugs, huffing out his cracked lips like you're the biggest drama queen on the planet. "You're still breathing, aren't you?"

"I wonder if I'll get a special price when I sell you to a fucking sushi restaurant!" 

The smile fades from his face and he scrapes a talon against the rock. Apparently dark humor is only funny if it’s not being aimed at him. "I'd like to see you try, human."

You two glare each other down for a moment before you sigh and tear your attentions from him to his dismay. "Just go away. Whatever you are, I don't care. Just leave me in peace." 

"You know my name." He spits through gritted teeth, instinctively rising a little higher in defense. 

"Yeah, I also said I don't care. Go away, fish."

You are so fucking lucky he can't reach you.

"No." His answer is simple and deliberate, trying to keep the urge to slither onto the rock and dig his nails into your yielding human flesh at bay. Land is your territory, and he rather enjoys the home field advantage.

"Why? You have an entire ocean to go be a dick in. Why do you have to bother me?" 

He ponders your words for a moment before settling on a less than sufficient answer. You aren’t sure what you expected. 

"Because I can. It could all be over if you'd just quit being stubborn and get in the damn water." 

"Asking me politely to kill myself, huh? That's a neat strategy."

"I've heard your kind say drowning is very peaceful. Probably better than any other way you'll die." 

"Nice sales pitch, bud. Still no takers."

You sit in uncomfortable silence for a few more moments, and he decides that this is going nowhere. Obviously the shock of meeting a sea dwelling humanoid has worn off and isn’t working to his advantage any longer. He's going to have to try another route. 

He heaves himself up to sit directly on the edge of the crag itself while keeping the bottom of his tail below, steady flicking back and forth in a rhythmic fashion. Shaking the water from his hair, he slicks it back out of his face and runs his fingers through the length, brushing the tresses back behind his fins. He’s allowing you an up close and personal look at something most humans will never get to see. No matter how angry at him you are, he knows you can’t resist the urge to look. 

As expected, your curiosity is a bit too much for you to overcome. While you do initially move to scoot away, it’s quickly replaced with a particularly intense look, clearly marveling at the differences in your physiology versus his own. 

His torso is human enough, albeit with an unusually iridescent sheen to it, until you get to the rounds of his hips. That's where thick, black scales accumulate and eventually lead into a sleek, muscular looking tail. The fins on the side of his head twitch slightly as he massages his scalp, and you wonder if it's how he hears things or if it's just a natural reaction to the stimulation. His nails are sharp but he seems to be acutely aware of their placement, avoiding harming himself at all while your cuts are still healing up under a rather gratuitously thick blood tacked bandage from when he grabbed you during your previous meeting. 

His hair isn't blonde, it's literally silver. It frames his pallid face in shaggy waves that reach lazily down below his shoulders and somehow glows with unnatural shine that haloes his head in the moonlight even when sopping wet. While his eyes are that of a predator, they're oddly mesmerizing; a deep, luminescent scarlet that contrasts his pale skin beautifully. You're willing to bet that's a technique developed by his kind to disarm and lure prey, though one of his victims or perhaps another sea dweller must have tried to gouge it out, since one of his eyes has a jagged, pale scar stretching from his thin eyebrow to the chapped, baggy flesh underneath. 

Life in the sea must be just as treacherous as land, as puffy, pink scars crisscross the expanse of his skin, some rounding from the front of his chest all the way around to his back. There's prominent marks around his gills as well. Small, repeated nicks just under the column of his neck. It’s a rather peculiar pattern, but he seems unbothered by them, and most look fully healed. Apparently he's become more cautious- or perhaps more skilled- with age.

How old is he anyway? He looks about your age, but it's rough to tell between the dried patches of flesh that litter his face. Even from beneath them though, you can tell he's oddly alluring; it somehow adds to his unique attraction. He's even got a little beauty mark adjacent to a jagged scar that runs through his chapped lips. 

He’s like something out of the story books you read or the tales you were told as a child. The beautiful creature that haunts the darkness, another pretty mask death facades in. His appearance bodes nothing but an omen of ill will, yet you can’t bring yourself to run from him no matter how much your inner child shrieks at the danger. 

Fairy tales aren’t real, and according to the rest of the world, he shouldn’t and doesn’t exist, and yet here he sits right in front of you as if it's the most natural thing in the world. Decades of fantasy stories with tales of nefarious monsters pretending to be something they aren’t just to entice the clueless protagonist into their ultimate demise should have somewhat prepared you for this moment, but you’re too enthralled with the flick of his tail and self indulgent thoughts of being special to really adhere to the rules of self preservation set forth by predecessors ignorant to his existence.  

You're so lost in observing him and every oddity that his body offers up to your gluttonous mortal eyes that it almost causes you to jump when he speaks again, turning to face you with eyes crinkling in mocking amusement. 

"Huh, you're staring. How rude of you. Unless it's for a different reason, that is."

"What? Wait- no!" You shake your head adamantly even as a telling darkness creeps up your neck and across your cheeks. 

"Humans are bad liars." He grins, tongue poking out from beneath his sharp canines. "It's okay. You can come down and get a closer look if you'd like." 

"Ha-ha. Nice fuckin' try."

"Suit yourself." He clicks his tongue and turns his attention from you, languidly stirring the water where his scaled appendage swishes just beneath the surface.

You eye it, far too curious to resist leaning your head forward slightly to get a better look at it in the cloudy water. “It looks… slimy.”

He balks at your rude admission and it’s apparent you’ve insulted his pride. For a moment, it seems like he wants to admonish you for your careless affront to his form, but he seems to think better of it. Instead, he remains quiet for a moment, trying to think of something tactful to say. 

"Well, it's not. Think...." He pauses, filing through his knowledge of human creatures for a decent comparison. "A snake. They might look slimy to someone ignorant, but they're soft and smooth." 

"Not if you rub them the wrong way." 

"Obviously. That's why you don't do that, idiot."

"What about your-" You gesture vaguely before pointing at the scales that dot his arms and chest. "-Those." 

"Are you stupid or something? It's the exact same thing." He runs a clawed finger up his own arm and then clenches his hand. "Smooth." 

"Huh." 

"If you'll come down here, you can feel it for yourself." 

"Give it up, tailbait."

His wet hand reaches upward and scratches lightly around the scars that mar his neck. He didn't actually expect it to work, but he's irritated nonetheless. This shouldn’t be this much trouble, and he shouldn’t be putting this much effort into anything. Why does he even bother? 

"Fine then."

Despite his tantrum, he knows you're tempted. He can tell by the way you keep eyeing him. You're presented with a once in a lifetime opportunity, and it’s not in your nature to pass it up. Granted said opportunity is a loaded spring trap, but still, it's rough for you to even pretend you’re not interested. 

Although, to be fair, the same can be said about him. He never really talks to humans beyond the regular ‘Oh god, what are you, please help me, let me go, I don't want to die like this’ nonsense your kind spouts off when you realize what's happening. This is his first actual conversation with one of your kind. He’s not happy about the circumstances surrounding it, but he’ll take advantage of it while he has the chance. 

"What about you? When your skin isn't wet, what does it feel like?" 

You pause at the question, unsure of what really to say. You drag your own fingers across your arm, trying to find a way to describe it. "Uh... Fleshy? Sort of squishy? It can be soft or rough depending on where you touch. Maybe a little hairy depending on who?" 

He stares blankly and you realize that's probably not the best description, but what the fuck does he want you to say? It’s such a weird thing to describe. You’ve never even really thought about it before. 

You reach your arm forward to let him touch for himself, but immediately yank it back when you realize what a dumb fuck move that is. He must realize it too, because he's cackling loudly as you cradle your offending arm and look at him as if he’s the one in the wrong. He could have easily yanked you forward and taken you under if you had gone through with giving him the chance.

"You're a fuckin' dick." 

"I didn't do anything. It's not my fault you're an idiot."

"Shut up." You knead your teeth into your lip, scanning him over again. "What about your magic?" 

"Magic? What are you? A child?" 

"What do you want me to call it, then?" 

"Do you call it magic when one of your kind uses a harpoon gun?" 

"No, because it's not."

"Then why would what I do be considered 'magic?"

"A harpoon gun is human technology. What you do isn't. At least as far as I know. You weren’t like… made in a lab, were you?"

He gives a grunt and scratches at his neck again. "Typical human. A tiger has claws it uses to defend itself and catch prey that come naturally to it and not to you, but do you consider it magic? Well mine is no different. We evolve different from your kind, but we're not any sort of mythical. Just because we're not known to you doesn't mean we're some sort of wild outlier. Humans aren’t the end-all-be-all of intelligent life."

You consider his point, nodding after a few moments. "You're right. My bad. It's just... it's new to me. I'm just trying to understand. Is it rude to think of you as mythic? I don’t mean for it to be, it’s just-" 

He huffs angrily before you can finish, scowling again. "We adapt to our environment, same as you. Typical human arrogance. You all think you’re so intelligent and so learned. If you haven't heard of it, it must not exist, right? The mighty human race, epitome of knowledge despite knowing nothing at all!”

You break up his tirade before he starts going off, raising your hands defensively to disarm him. "Fair enough! I didn't mean to offend you or imply something offensive. Sorry! I’m still learning." 

He says nothing, but the rage building within him begins to deteriorate. At least you're smart enough to recognize you're stupid.

Another stark silence, the sound of waves crashing and wind blowing is all that passes between you. A gale brings in a new bout of smells; salt and slight sulfur, the same scent that’s comforted you throughout the entirety of your life. You inhale deeply, relishing in the peculiar sense of nostalgia the sea offers you, even knowing the danger you're literally facing.

The sounds of the waves pushing and pulling with the tides relaxes you, lulling you into a sense of contentment. Leaves rustling and waters bristling on the surface. The sand stuck between your toes. The breeze in your hair. The call of the ocean. 

You can't see the look of peace that overtakes his features, but he can feel it too. Eyes closed, a rare look of tranquility settling across his face as he turns from you and faces the horizon and the open water.

The wind eventually dies down and you break the unspoken moment of serenity between you. You make the choice to speak. 

"Why do you hate us so much?"

His eyes snap open and you are made instantly aware of your folly.

Wrong choice.

"I'm not surprised.” He hisses, shoving away from the rock with a look of disgust that tells you that you’ve made an egregious error. “Typical human. You know nothing." 

With a flick of his tail and another splash of water directed your way, he's gone, submerged beneath the water with nothing but a ripple headed off into the sea from beneath the waves. Even several minutes later when you bring yourself to peer over the edge, you can't see the silvery glow of his hair or the deep crimson of his eyes.

He's really gone. 

It doesn't bring you the comfort it should.

You sit on the edge for a few moments, even rolling the dice on dangling your feet in but nothing slippery attaches itself to your ankle or threatens to drag you below. Orange tinges the horizon and birds begin to chirp, you realize it's time to go home. You don't feel the peace of mind you usually do as you begin the long trek home.

Taglist: @dubliinwaltz​​, @lemonzoey​

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Keeping Secrets.”

Wrote another for you all. Hope you have a good day :)

“But I’m HUNGRY.” 

“We don’t have time for that.”

“I’m the commander, I’m your boss, and I say I’m hungry.”

Ramirez turned on his heel going toe to toe with the taller man, “I don’t give one shit if you’re hungry or not, something is wrong with you, so I am taking you back to Dr. Krill and Katie, so they can to a scan of your dumbass skull.” 

Commander Vir bared his teeth in a feral snarl held back only by Sunny, who had two of her arms wrapped around his chest. He was being absolutely impossible to control. First it had been other people, largely women, but with Ramirez in the crossfire once, and Sunny taking the brunt towards the tail end. Then it had been the aggression, the heightened need to fight absolutely everyone for the smallest infraction, and then had come the hunger, which he hadn’t shut up about for over a mile now.

Ramirez would have gotten them a taxi, but everything here tended to fly, which made Adam assume that it was his since he was “the best pilot in the known galaxy, so it should be me that flies everything.”

Yeah right, like he was going to let commander jackass fly the plane.

But deep down he was worried. Whatever this guy was, it wasn’t Adam.

Adam was….. Well how about the exact opposite of everything this person was doing, he was shy, and polite, and friendly, and humorous. Even when he got angry or indignant, his actions were usually justified for some sort of reason.

But whatever that thing in the alley had been, it had definitely done something to him.

He glanced down at his implant, and pulled up the tracking device that Krill had managed to weld to the commander’s ribs and found that it did indeed say that the commander was right behind him.

Up ahead they were just stepping onto the docking bay platform where ship shuttles were constantly rolling in from the sky above. Noctopolis didn’t have a station big enough for entire ships to land, so they were going to have to take a shuttle back to the ship. It would be best not to take their shuttle as the other marines would need a way to get back when they finally finished with their carousing, so he finally hailed another shuttle, which pulled to a stop in front of them.

“This piece of junk.” The commander snarled, “I’ve seen better shuttles in junkyards. Look at it, the D-4 coupling. Only some kind of bitch drives a shuttle with a -”

Sunny clamped her hand over the commander’s mouth and Ramirez sighed as the shuttle ramp opened and allowed them to step inside.

“To the station?” the pilot asked turning around in its seat to look at them.

“Yes please.” Ramirez said scanning his implant under the reader for payment.

As soon as that was done, he helped Sunny to strap the Commander into place getting a fat lip for his troubles when the man snuck in an angry knee to the face. Ramirez contemplated ‘accidentally’ closing the five point harness on the man’s junk in retaliation, but assumed it wise not to piss the man off more than he already was.

Sunny still had her hand over the Commander’s mouth, as the roar of the engines started up nearly deafening the.

Sunny yelped in shock and drew her hand back from Adam.

“He bit me!”

He barred his teeth at her, complained for a couple more minutes, though, luckily it wasn’t loudly enough for the pilot to hear. Eventually his messed up brain moved on to a quieter activity, pressed against Sunny head resting on her am.

Ramirez wasn’t stupid.

Had he guessed that Adam had a thing for sunny. Totally, who didn’t, but he doubted that Adam wanted anyone to find out like this. Ramirez honestly didn’t care about what he did in his free time, but he was worried about what would happen to his friend when he came down from whatever freaky psychotic behavior this was.

So, what did he do?

He decided to piss him off some more.

The commander could more easily come back from anger than he could from the humiliating of letting everyone know he was in love with an alien.

“Adam, Fuck you.”

It wasn’t his most eloquent diatribe he had ever given, but it worked pretty well.

Adam turned to look at him face twisted into an expression of murderous rage. Sunny was forced to hold him back as the cursing began and the struggling. Ramirez stayed very calm. He just had to keep him pissed like this until they made it to the infirmary.

They made it off the shuttle without incident, and walked through most of the station. Aside form the man hungrily eyeballing a couple of passing people, and a couple of passing food carts, they made it to the ship.

People came to approach them but Ramirez vigorously shook his head waving them off and out of the line of fire. Commander Vir glared them down as if he intended to fight each and every last one of them.

Sunny practically carried him up the corridor and through the ship towards their final destination.

Along the hallway up to the medical bay they ran into Conn, who took one look at Commander Vir and floated backwards a bit. Whatever was inside the man’s head, the starborn wasn’t to keen to be apart of.

Ramirez ignored that little fact and shouldered the next door open with gusto practically bursting into the medical bay with sunny close behind.

Dr. katie and Krill looked up from their work frowning in confusion as Sunny struggled to make the Commander do what she wanted.

Krill floated up.

“Is everything alright?”

Ramirez shook his head, “Something happened to the Commander. I think he was attacked?”

Both Dr. Krill and doctor Katie stepped forward in concern as Sunny forced him to sit down.

Krill moved forward, and so did doctor katie until eventually the man’s eyes fell on her. They all watched as his head tilted slowly moving up to her face after passing over her body. The look on his face was so uncharacteristic of him that Dr. katie and Krill took  a step back.

He licked his lips.

Dr. Katie’s eyes narrowed, and she walked over grabbing him aggressively by the face and turning his head this way and that. 

He mewled in pain.

“You are definitely right, something is completely wrong with him. Sunny pinned his hands down as he tried to fight Katie off.

“He got all weird like, started going after everyone, and then he tried to fight the, and then he got all hungry. And he's been aggressive and pissy ever since. I have never seen anyone behave like this ever, and I joined the army.”

“Yes the behavior is completely out of character. What did you say happened before he started acting like this.”

“I think someone may have used a device on him. It was dark, and I didn’t get a good look of the shadow, but I saw some metal, like there was a contraption on his head. Sunny continued to hold the commander down as doctor Katie looked over his head. She completely ignored whatever he was saying, though it did happen to be rather alarming coming from Adam.

“Here, on the scalp, what do you make of it Krill.”

Krill moved forward to take a look leaning in closely for an examination, “Hmmm, yes. Puncture wounds on the temples and under the eyes, very minuscule. Almost microscopic in fact.

Adam bit at Katie’s hand and she pulled back.

The look on her face was one of complete no nonsense as she stepped away grabbed something and then came back.

Adam looks almost shocked when she stabbed him in the back with the syringe.

“What did you give him.” Krill wondered 

The concoction was self-evident a moment later as the man lost all muscle tone. Sunny grabbed him and lay him back.

“Combined sedative and paralytic. That should keep him still she said.” Behind her glasses her warm eyes had changed to one of worry. She wasn’t mad at the commander knowing that something had been done to hi to make him behave in such a barbaric manner.

“Call in Dr. Adric will you. He might be able to help us explain at least some of this behavior.”

It wasn’t long before the man slipped into the room honey tones of his dark skin washed out by sharp overhead light. He walked forward and stopped with the other two doctors.

“Something is wrong with the commander.”

“Increased libido, hyper aggression, and hunger to the point of not being able to control himself. We had to sedate him.”

“Strange, sounds like you just gave me the textbook definition of the Id.”

“The what now?”

Dr Adric shrugged, “Oh nothing it was simply a theory proposed by a psychologist more than two thousand years ago. His methods have since been questioned and greatly disproven, but Freud did coin the idea of the Id, or the subconscious driving for of the human mind that encompasses all our base desires, food, sex, aggression, and so on.” he glanced down at the commander, “In this case, i might suggest something in causation with the function of the brain stem (including all base drives) and an inhibition of the frontal lobe and limbic system.”

“Why those in particular?” Krill wondered 

“The frontal lobe, as you know is in charge of executive decision. Whatever function has kept these drives and habits suppressed, is not working. With the limbic system down, he has no way of controlling his emotions which might explain the aggression, though I have never seen anything manifest in this way.”

“So you have seen it?”

“Alzheimer patients can experience similar behavior towards the end stages of the disease as their executive function and limbic systems break down, but he doesn't appear to be having any related memory involvement. I would suggest an x-ray fMRI and CT scan to begin.”

“Why the x-ray?” wondered Ramirez pretty sure that that could show you the skull and not the brain.

“Looking for metal of course.”

It was probably a good idea as the first x-ray image lit up like a lightbulb. Gathered around the screen, Sunny and Ramirez looking over their heads they saw the skull was packed full of shiny white dots. The skull was intact, and the dots were on the outside of his brain, but they were small, very small.

“Think you can get those out, Dr?” Katie asked turning to look at Krill.

“Yes, they are very small, a large magnet should do the trick.”

Dr Adric made a joke about putting him in an MRI to do the work quicker, and received a look form Krill while Katie laughed.

By the end of the hour all oft hem were staring at a minute grouping of microscopic electrodes that had been pulled from the man’s head.

“That would explain it.” Dr Adric muttered

“Explain what?”

“Generating a magnetic current through areas of the brain can disrupt its function. We’ve known that for thousands of years. Continuous stimulation of the occipital lobe, for example, can make someone go blind. So whoever did this intentionally shut off his executive functions, or stimulated his base drives. I believe what we just saw is the hardwired, natural human instincts.

“How very comforting”, Krill said, obviously not very comforted

“Well, lets wake him up and see if the problem resolved.

Nervously, the group gathered around the man who had been mostly sedated for the entire procedure. He wasn’t fully asleep, but he was only half conscious. The reversal agent woke him up pretty quickly, and he lifted his head sort of groggily.

He blinked owlishly at them, his face neutral.

They waited worried.

“What…. Happened?” He groaned hand to his head 

His single eye slowly focused in on Dr Katie, and then he blanched absolutely white. Eyes widening he put a hand over his mouth.

“Yep, that’s him.”

“Commander, are you ok? What do you remember.”

He grabbed Katie by the arm stammering, “Katie I… I’m so sorry I-I dont know what came over me. I’ve never done anything like that in my life I swear to god.” he looked near close to panic, “You know I would never intentionally ever do anything like that to you ever, and I am so sorry. I have no idea why that even happened.” 

She grabbed his hand, “Adam, it’s alright. I know you wouldn’t. It wasn’t your fault.”

He turned his head, and as he saw sunny and Ramirez his face went from bleach white to pale pink, to bright red.

Ramirez grinned and threw in a wink just for fun.

He thought the man was going to stroke out and die. He dropped his head into his hands. Even his hands were red.

“Do you remember what happened, commander?” Dr krill asked 

“I…. I don’t now I was waiting for Ramirez and sunny but then…. I saw something in the alley. Next thing I knew everything was dark, and I was being thrown around. It pinned me to the ground and did something…. That’s when ramirez and sunny came out. After that I remember….. I remember feeling, so angry and, and hungry and….” He went quiet as his neck blushed and even deeper shade of red, “I’m so sorry”, he moaned.

“Are you sure you don’t remember anything else, Commander.’

“Well I mean…. I’m not sure, but maybe...I thought it might have said, the Kree, but I wasn’t really paying attention.” 

“The Kree. Didn’t the GA make contact with a race that called themselves the Kree.”

Te commander lifted his head, “Yes, though it was only by long distance communication, otherwise no one knows anything about them.” 

“Well, rest, Commander, and we will figure this all out later.”

He nodded dejectedly as the doctors stepped from the room all the while discussing what the device could have been.

Ramirez followed after them having taken a step out the door when.

“Sunny, I am so sorry. What happened, I didn’t meant to do any of it.”

He paused beside the doorway knowing he should move on, but being unable to do so.

“None of it?”

There was silence.

“I…..”

“So I shouldn’t expect anything like that ever…. Even in an appropriate context?”

Stammering 

He really should go

“It’s fine, Adam, but that is something I just needed to know.”

“But I didn’t say that, Sunny I…. I just.”

“You just…. What?”

“Eventually yes of course…. And I want to…. But I….”

Ramirez shook himself and pulled away. He shouldn’t be listening in. It was wrong despite how much he wanted to shove it in maverick’s face and claim his two hundred bucks.

He wasn’t going to rat out his friend to everyone.

He knew what being a friend meant, and often that included keeping secrets.  

[phenomenal1500]

The Blood In My Veins | Black Sails

Chapter 65: MDCCXX

For Chapter 64: XXXVIII click here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Piracy was now of course strictly disapproved of. Well, that was supposedly so that Nassau retained a good image and no longer attracted armies. Nassau was finally secured and we finally were able to have a proper life. As for piracy around the world; Even if we, the heart of pirates, would retire.... there would always be someone new stepping out of the shadows. Piracy will always live forth and Jack, Charles and I would make sure of it.

~~~

4 years later

~~~

"A little help!!" The heavy sound of swords being forced against swords echoed through the air and was carried away by the strong wind as I recalled for support. Charles immediately tossed me his second sword and in a matter of seconds I had impaled my competitor's heart. Another man tried to sneak up at me from behind, but I had focused on the sound of his loud footsteps and with my last bullet I blew his head off of his neck. The noise of death had diminished and the last few of our enemies had retreated, now sitting on their knees and praying for their salvation, salvation they would never receive. I was observing the scene from the upper deck, behind the helm and suddenly the breeze blew my hair in my face. I quickly secured my hair in a high ponytail, acting like nothing had happened and I straightened my back when our captured enemy glanced at me.

"You had struck your colours, yet, thereupon you still dared to attack us." Jayson declared out loud and had in the meantime bent down to look the Commodore in his frightened eyes. Jayson then slapped his thighs, scaring the man even more, before standing up to ask the question we all wanted to have the answer to. "What will become of their futures?"

The crews that belonged to me and Charles stood alongside each other on the British ship, but their mindsets were still their own and the men grew wild like hungry wolves. My hand trailed down the smooth wooden railing as I dramatically guided myself down the stairs and I positioned myself before the row of captured men, working for British Navy that had crossed our path at sea.

It grew silent.

I shared one look with the blue eyed man and licked my lips before my hoarse voice because of the yelling and lack of water disturbed the sudden silence.

"Their futures will not be decided by me, but by themselves." I declared. "I say we throw them overboard! Land isn't far away so let's see how good they actually learn to swim in the Navy!"

"AYE!!" The men happily agreed and we released the prisoners from the rope that held their wrists and legs together.

They were pulled to their feet and one of them had collected his saliva to be able to spit on me before he was dragged to the ship's railing to be thrown into the dark, cold ocean.

There was a huge possibility that a group of hungry sharks waited for them underneath the ships, although I doubted it this time.

We were horribly close to land so the men were probably lucky if the sharks wouldn't smell their blood.

I wiped the spit off of my face and leaned over the railing to watch the men swim away from us like they had seen the devil.

"What even was their plan?" The muscular man snuck up from behind me and I smiled as I felt his hands slide down my sides to afterwards wrap his arms around my body. Closing my eyes as I relaxed in his arms, I focused on the sound of his voice which was hearable for a second time. "They surrendered.... raised the white flag even before something had happened and the moment we try to pass by calmly.... they fire?"

"I had no idea what they were thinking either, but one thing I can recall.... they weren't smart, nor strong." I chuckled as the two of us stared into the horizon that darkened every hour, showing us it was becoming evening soon. We had been sailing for one month straight with the intention of sailing to an estate north of Spanish Florida.

The Oglethorpe's estate outside Savannah to be exact.

It had been four years since I heard anything from the man I saw as my father.... well, that was until I received a letter last month stating that Thomas Hamilton and James McGraw had been given the permission to go on free foot if they had someone who would wish to have them back in the open world. They were given the opportunity to send one letter to one person they thought would immediately respond and if not, they would stay locked away from the real world. It was a smart way of the estate to show their people who were incarcerated there that they cared for them and that they gave them the possibility to be free, although the creator of the estate of course knew nobody wanted them back....

I guess they thought wrong and Flint, now McGraw, knew that too, or else he wouldn't have chosen me to come and get them.

"When we dock in the bay, I managed to obtain a carriage driver to bring us there." I twisted in the man's arms and locked mine around his neck, glaring over his shoulder to see if we were already done with detraining the British ship that we had conquered unwillingly.

"I really appreciate it and the rest probably too. I think we all don't have the energie to walk that ourselves anymore." He grinned and I trailed my hands down to his torso to tap his muscles lightly. "Come, lets go join the others and get out of here."

"What will we do about the ship?" Charles asked, letting his arms relax beside his body as he stepped away from me.

"Burning it sounds like a good solution? No one will know what happened to the ship and who will believe those pathetic men once they return on land, if they survive, and the ship is nowhere to be found?" I suggested and the blue eyed man nodded in agreement.

"That does mean we have to sink it fast and make sure it sinks or else they could still find it while it's burning."

Charles was right.

It wouldn't work unless we made sure it was sinking fast.

"Fire at the lower deck?"

"That's what I was thinking." We made our way back to our fleet and leaned our hands on the wooden railing of Charles' ship before him giving the order to fire lowly at the ship. When we made sure the holes down below were big enough, we cut ourselves loose and got the hell out of there.

The next morning it wasn't too warm, but also not too cold and the strong wind had died down.

I rubbed my eyes as I glared over the blue sea that was lightened up by the sunlight shining on it and I enjoyed the ocean scent that came with it.

In the distance I surveyed land and a smile made its way on my face.

Sooner or later we would set foot there and would be taken to the Savannah Estate to take McGraw and Hamilton back home with us.

~~~

"Hereby the contract for taking over James McGraw and Thomas Hamilton and I'll highly recommend not to mention Sir McGraw's past. He's a changed man now." The grey haired man handed me over the papers we signed and then gestured to us to walk till the end of the hallway to afterwards go outside through the door on the right.

We had used fake names not to scare the estate workers. They didn't know that we were actually pirates and we wanted to keep it that way until we would leave because we had a chance we then wouldn't be able to take the men with us.

I thanked the man and then walked out with Charles to see a huge cane field appear before our eyes.

The men were actually taken care of and worked while joking with one another.

It was a sight I had never seen before when it came to people working on these types of plantages. Charles and I had prepared for at least some sort of slavery, but there were no chains involved, no one screaming at them or forcing them to work harder in the heat for days. This was different. It was a relief for both me and the man next to me and I was happy that McGraw and Hamilton didn't have to endure such terrible things as we had to when we were younger. Letting my eyes glide over the cane field, Charles suddenly closed his strong hand around my wrist and pulled me along and that's when I saw the men we were searching for. I enthusiastically waved at them and I no longer felt Charles' firm grip when he had released me, letting me run off to McGraw.

"James!" I shouted, naming him by his first name because I was listed as his half sister on the papers.

"Naida?!" Confusion was heard in his voice, probably a little surprised that I was right there within a month and called him James, but I didn't care.

He seemed in a good mood.

He pulled me closer and wrapped his arms around me into a warm embrace with me automatically hugging him back.

It felt nice to see him again after such a long time.

I remember 3 years back that I had figured out a plan to break him out of the Estate, although I had let that plan slip because I reminded myself he would be hunted for the rest of his life and wouldn't really have a free life. However, now.... he was going to be free, same as Hamilton without anything to worry about.

"It's good to see you, little snake." McGraw whispered and I scoffed jokingly.

I noted that McGraw had his hair grown back with the same tail in it as before.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir Hamilton." The red haired man had let go of me and I offered my hand to the bald man on his left who gladly took it.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well. James had promised me you would come and I knew I could trust his word. Thank you, Miss Jones." Hamilton murmured the last part, keeping my name a secret and Charles had in the meantime caught up with us.

"At sea I go by the name Jones.... at land Ms. Vane is fine. Or else it may create confusion between the crews."

"You two-....?"

"Are married, yes." Charles confirmed while cutting off McGraw's question and his hand snuck up to my hip, making me proudly smile back up at him.

"You all mind catching up later?" One of the guards whined. They clearly wanted us out of here and the four of us immediately, without hesitating, walked over to the gates of the estate, not minding to leave this place behind once and for all. The stuff the two had with them in this place were collected by the maidens and were put in a bag to make it easier for us to take it with us and when they shoved it into our hands we were pushed out of the estate and the gates closed behind our backs.

"Well, Mr. and Miss Vane, where will we be going?"

"Away from here.... back to Nassau. Though if you two desire to go somewhere other than Nassau, we don't mind taking you there as well." Charles proposed, but they both shook their heads.

"Nassau sounds like an excellent idea. Oh, and both of you, please keep on calling me Flint." Charles and I exchanged some fazed glares and then turned back to Flint. "They tried to brainwash us, make us forget who we were and what our past was. I must say it worked with most of the men, but with us it didn't. I won't forget the part of my life where Flint was involved. I perhaps have fallen back to McGraw's habits a little, but I'm too attached to Flint.... and besides that, I'm used to you two calling me Flint."

"Flint, I must say you surprised me with your calmness." I grinned and Flint immediately changed back to his old stern face expression I knew so well. "Never mind then." I corrected myself and the four of us were off to the carriage where some of our men were waiting on us.

~~~

Nassau

~~~

With some groceries under my arm I got along the way while Charles was showing Flint and Hamilton around the new Nassau, I stuck my key in the lock and unlocked my front door to push it open and walk inside mine and Charles' shared house. It was a bit smaller than the Governor's Mansion built in Nassau's square and our house was located outside of Nassau instead, but it wasn't too far away though.

We had built it with our share of the L'Urca De Lima that Jack had gifted us and a few pathways and stairs led up to the white colored house which made the way to Nassau easier and safer.

I laid the groceries down on a small table next to the huge front door and stared at the gigantic stairs in the middle of the living room, dividing into two on the second floor.

"Mum!"

A soft voice was heard and a big smile was painted on my face when my four year old daughter became visible while running down the stairs. Normally I would have been afraid or mad about her running down the stairs, but she was so fast at learning and I knew she was able to do so without something bad happening. She had done it multiple times even though we had told her not to, but she couldn't help herself though, she shared my habits and personality and I knew how hard that is to handle.

The only thing we didn't share were looks.

Her eyes were gray with a light brown tone in them and her hair was almost white, nothing like me or Charles.

She had her own beauty and it was the cutest thing ever.

Reverie was the second oldest, 6 minutes younger than my son Nikolai who was more like his father.

They had the same blue eyes, my son's a bit darker, and they shared the same hair color.... however when it came down to personality, Nikolai was a mix of me and Charles.

I opened my arms to welcome Reverie in my arms and picked her up to balance her on my hip, kissing her forehead.

"Where's dad?"

"Helping your uncles find a place to stay the night. He'll be back soon, I promise." I replied, gently tapping her nose one time with my index finger.

"NAIDA!!" A loud voice startled me and Jack tripped over his feet, almost tumbling down the stairs while calling for me.

It seemed like he could learn some things from my daughter when it came to walking.

"Jack." I laughed as he corrected himself in his walking and held onto the railing as he also made his way down the long stairs. "Thank you for looking after our children. Must be hard.... handling four kids."

"You had to bear them and now have to raise them, I can't complain and other than that.... they are actual angels." Jack explained and my smile grew even wider. Charles and I indeed were blessed with them. "If you wondered.... Nikolai is with Anne back in Nassau, they will be back soon and Davy and Avon are upstairs. Avon wanted to watch over Davy while she slept."

"And I wanted to come and hug mommy!" Reverie said while playing with my loose hair and I couldn't suppress a chuckle. I gave her one more kiss and had put her down so she could stand on her own two little feet again. "I'm going to go read now." She proudly stated and hopped to the bookcase that was in a sort of office room across the big open living room to the right. She couldn't read amazingly yet, but somehow still stayed interested in books.

"Jack, you are allowed to go, you know? I can still understand if you are tired, you aren't used to such a lifestyle."

"I'll stay until Charles is back.... if you don't mind of course."

"I don't mind. Perhaps you can even help me cook." Jack's facial expression became emotionless and I bursted out in laughter, knowing Anne normally cooked even though she didn't want people to know she had learned to cook. "I was just kidding."

"Uncle Jack, do you want to read this with me until my dad is back?!" Reverie's cute voice echoed through the living room and her adorable little face appeared in the door opening, making us break eye contact to look at her.

"I'm going to check on Davy and Avon."

Jack nodded at me and waved at Reverie to join him on the couch. She enthusiastically ran across the room and jumped on the couch with a small book in her hands and handed it over to Jack who volunteered to read it to her. Jack held the book open with his right hand while my daughter held the book open with her left one and I, step for step, moved upstairs and silently strolled through the left hallway to find Davy's bedroom. I held onto the golden door handle and I noiselessly pressed the door open, holding it tightly so it wouldn't hit the wall and cause the girl to awaken.

A warm feeling filled my heart when I spotted Avon, my second son, sitting in the chair next to the small wooden crib and had fallen asleep just like my little girl, Davy.

Avon was three years old with light green eyes and my hair color. He was a bit more of a rebel and had a wild personality, but was secretly very soft too and always wanted to take care of Davy who was now almost one year old. Davy, same as Reverie, didn't look like me or her father. Instead she had dark brown eyes and black hair and was very calm. I unfolded a soft blanket and covered my son with it before stroking his hair from his forehead to give him a kiss. I then rotated and let my thumb glide over the cheek of my little daughter before softly closing the door behind me to let them sleep without being disturbed.

I proceeded to walk back to the living room to go to the kitchen, letting my fingers follow the golden details in the white wooden walls and I suddenly picked up the sound of the front door opening.

"Dad?!" I could see Reverie jumping up from the coach when I stood at the upper step of the stairs and she hopped into Charles' arm while he held Nikolai in his other one. His expression turned from exhausted to a more delightful one and Jack said goodbye to us when he heard Anne's voice from outside. It wasn't the first time Charles and I had left off to raise the black flag at sea and it wasn't the first time for Jack to stay at our house, but we never had been this long and far away from our children and to be honest I had found it pretty rough.

"Sweetheart." Charles replied and put the two down so he could lower himself to his knees to hug them both closely. "Davy and Avon are upstairs?" He questioned me and I nodded, rushing downstairs to embrace my eldest son tightly.

"Found a place for Hamilton and Flint?" I had retreated my arms from hugging my son and he kissed me on the cheek which made me smile widely.

"Mhuh. At the tavern for now, but they will move in Barlow's former house when it is cleaned up." The children playfully roamed through the first floor of the house and Charles and I lovingly stared at one another. "God, I missed their presence."

"I did so too." I revealed honestly and together we went to the kitchen to unpack the groceries and cook some dinner for ourselves and the kids.

~~~

It had been a rough few years, but they were worth living it nonetheless. When I look back at it now, I appreciate every memory I had gained. Some memories were less pleasant than others like the loss of Hall Gates, Miranda Barlow, Billy Bones and Edward Teach, but those memories also made me who I have become today. I learned how to love and be hopeful when I felt like everything was falling apart.... things I wouldn't have learned if I didn't have left off to Nassau all those years ago. I deeply inhaled and opened my eyes, staring at the beautiful full moon that hovered over Nassau.

If I hadn't arrived here I would have never met Flint again.

If I hadn't killed those men on that beach the first day, I would have never encountered Charles the way we did.

I never would have been married.

I never would have gotten children.

I remembered my pregnancies and the lies the people around you told you just to ease the stress and fear you endured. I almost died that night with my twins Reverie and Nikolai because of exhaustion and lack of energy, but I carried on, Charles pulling me through labor, and it was worth everything in the end.

It didn't take long before Charles and I had decided to try for another kid when I was fully healed and that's how Avon was born.... and Davy after him. Of course we agreed it would be enough after our youngest daughter and I was grateful for each one of them.

Charles and I finally had succeeded to find the life we secretly had the urge for.

We thought we never were types to settle down, however life proved us wrong once more.

Married.... kids.... I smiled to myself at the thought.

Piracy made those things seem a fantasy, nothing close to reality, though they did become reality for us.

So much had changed.

I could hear the door behind me open and I jerked my head back to see Charles stepping outside onto the balcony while silently closing the door behind him afterwards. I had been reading on the balcony of our house with a single candle next to me to still be able to read the letters in the dead of the night and he smiled at me before offering me his hand.

I closed my book, laying it beside me before taking it, immediately being pulled to my feet.

"The kids are worn out.... and.... I locked our bedroom door." The oh so familiar look known as lust was visible in his eyes and I bit my lower lip before laughing.

"I love you, Charles." I chuckled as his arms closed around my lower back and pressed me into his muscular body with the intention of whispering the same words back into my ear.

"I love you too, little one." His lips brushed over my bare neck and I let out a small moan before he quickly pulled me inside.

I was wrong.... Some things never change.

~~~

A/N: I don't have much left to say.... I think I already said everything in the last chapter, but I still wanted to thank everyone who kept on reading this fic! I don't know if this was the end I had in mind, but most of it was already decided when I started this fic and I'm proud of how it turned out to be. It meant the world to me to know people enjoyed the things I wrote and I definitely loved writing this for all of you! I never thought this fic would be a complete year of updating, but it didn't bother me because like I said I absolutely loved it. Thank you all so much and I wish you all the best!!! 🤍🖤

[argent-vulpine]

Down We Go

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Rating: G

Characters: Seteth/Byleth

Read it on AO3!

He could not for the life of him figure out what Rhea was planning. Oh, he understood bringing Jeralt back into the fold; he’d heard many stories of the man’s tenure as captain, and with recommendations from those who’d known him, was all too happy to accept his return into the Knights, regardless of his reasons for leaving.

No, the problem Seteth was having was with Rhea’s decision to make the man’s untested, probably under-educated daughter a professor at the academy.

She simply couldn’t be trusted, which was why he had made the decision to keep an eye on her. Whatever Rhea’s reasons were – and she wasn’t sharing them – he needed to be sure that this young woman was trustworthy on his own. So he would stop and check in on her from time to time, listening to the instructions she gave her class, checking on them before and after missions, and even stopping her for chats on free days at the monastery.

He discovered, to his consternation, that she liked to fish. A lot. And that Flayn would frequently join her at the little dock, chatting away while the professor reeled in fish after fish. He knew that she would take her catches up to the dining hall for the kitchens to use, and that sometimes she would join one of the students – whether from her house or another – and cook a special meal to share with the lot.

It was also of note that she enjoyed spending some time in the greenhouse, and wandering the grounds. She would invite people to join her in the sauna – including himself, to his surprise. They said nothing, simply relaxing, and as no one treated her like this was an oddity, he had to assume this was how all her sauna visits went.

The professor liked to run, as well, he learned. It didn’t matter where. From the dormitories to the greenhouse, to the dining hall, through the gardens… it didn’t matter. She simply liked running. He caught her running across the bridge between the monastery and the cathedral in the early mornings, doing laps across the expanse before it was too crowded with people, and found that those she passed were used to this, too, greeting her as she sprinted past.

He was finding out a lot about her, in fact, and not a single shred of it made her any more suspicious. In fact, it would have been doing the opposite, if he still weren’t so bothered by her sudden and inexplicable promotion to professorship.

It wasn’t until the existence of Abyss came to light that he had any reason to suspect her at all.

Except that he’d caught her sneaking out of her room late in the evening, as he was strolling the grounds on the way to the baths, and caught sight of her slipping into a hole in a wall near her room.

Curious, he followed her into the tunnel, knowing where it would lead, but not knowing why she was going, especially at this time of night. After all, the so-called Ashen Wolves were part of her house, now, and allowed to come up to the surface for classes whenever they so desired.

By the time they’d reached the main ‘village center’ of Abyss, Byleth had vanished. He looked for her, trying to stay out of sight of Abyssians who might otherwise dislike his presence, but she was nowhere to be seen. Disgruntled, Seteth returned to the surface and continued on his original path.

--------

He watched her every night for the next two weeks, noting that while she didn’t enter Abyss every night, she did go more often than not.

Seteth did not try to follow her again, not yet, instead waiting to see how long it took before she returned. Some nights it was only an hour or two, other nights she didn’t return until near dawn, when he was yawning and struggling to stay awake.

It was severely affecting his ability to work. He found he was struggling to remain awake in meetings with Rhea and the cardinals, and drifting off in the middle of completing his paperwork. He even managed to miss lunch with Flayn on one occasion, to find her barging in and scolding him for not getting enough rest.

He was determined to get to the bottom of this. If she was up to something suspicious, then he needed to know so that he could report it to Rhea.

Determined, he prepared for another night. This time he would follow her properly. Instead of waiting outside, simply watching the tunnel, he would wait within and keep track of her that way.

--------

It took three attempts before he was able to get into the tunnel to Abyss and follow Byleth. She hadn’t gone down for a couple nights, making him wonder if he’d somehow been caught out. But then she was there, walking past his hiding place, her steps purposeful as always.

He gave it a moment before following, pulling the hood of his cloak down to further hide his unfortunately distinctive countenance. (So he might have been recognized on one foray far more easily than he’d thought. He’d learned from that.) Byleth was already a fair bit ahead of him, but it was easier to follow her this time, staying back as far as he could.

Her first stop was the Abysskeeper, getting the latest news from him, before moving on to the tavern, where she spoke with a few of the patrons there, sliding some money across the counter for a glass of what he suspected was subpar ale. She drank it anyway, chatting with the bartender. Seteth hung back, out of the tavern, and simply watched from the corridor, leaning against the wall between flickering lights and hoping the shadows were enough to conceal his identity.

Byleth remained in the tavern for a fair bit of time. Long enough to have a pint and a chat. This behavior, at least, was somewhat excusable. She’d been raised as a mercenary, after all, and while he knew she would occasionally join her father at the town’s tavern, she had likely made contacts with people in Abyss during the whole debacle when the subterranean town had been found out. Certainly she had the students here, it stood to reason there were others she spoke to as well.

From there, he watched her move to a dead end corridor (he hung far back for this) to… feed cats? Oh, he’d seen her slip some scraps to cats and dogs around Garreg Mach itself, so it shouldn’t be that surprising, but it somehow still was. She sat with them a while, giving them scraps, petting them. Sometimes one would bring her something as a gift, or she’d pry some odd item out of a mouth and then offer food as apology.

He frowned, watching, and mentally adjusted his evaluation of her. Just a little.

The rest of the night was spent in much the same manner. She helped out in the little market, stopped and spoke with children running around (and slipping them some candies). There was the library, and he itched to stop her from going in there, but he had no jurisdiction here, and trying to stop her would just make things worse. She chatted with library patrons – and he caught a flash of familiar deep green hair, the owner of which was rubbing his eyes sleepily before he waved to the professor and wandered back up to the surface.

She would stop and catch up with the Ashen Wolves. Balthus flirted as loud and boisterously as he did everything else, but Byleth dodged his efforts; he caught mention of a brawling tournament, and talking about his debts. It sounded like the professor was giving him ways to help deal with them while still having some money on the side. She spoke to Constance about magical theory, and gave Hapi a small bag of pastries from the kitchens.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, she spent the most time with Yuri, the de facto leader of the Ashen Wolves. He couldn’t quite make out what they were talking about, as they spoke in low tones to each other. That caught his attention more than anything, and he had to wonder if that was simply habit for the lavender-haired house leader, or if they were planning something and needed to keep it quiet.

He almost missed when she bade goodnight to the young man, presumably to head back to the surface for some sleep. Still, he wanted to make sure… but before he could follow after her, a shadow was upon him, pressing a blade against his throat.

“You know, I don’t take kindly to my people being tailed.” The words were said in a hard tone, a thinly veiled threat, by none other than Yuri. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but the professor is under my protection, got it?”

Seteth stared in open shock, raising his hands up to indicate he wasn’t armed, but no words came to mind. 

The knife pressed a little closer, a warning. “You had really better tell me what you were doing, following her around all night.”

So he knew? Well, there had been rumors that Yuri was the brains of Abyss, and surely he had eyes and ears all over the place. Did that mean that Byleth had caught him out, too, or that she hadn’t and Yuri was looking out for her? Seteth swallowed, feeling the sharp edge of the knife on his skin. “I think it’s no surprise to anyone that I haven’t trusted her,” he finally said, moving the hood of his cloak back enough that Yuri could see his face.

The younger man scoffed, his lips twisted in a scowl, but he removed the knife. “So instead of just asking her, you decided to be a creep about it?”

“I… well…” Yuri had a point. “I had no reason to believe she would answer me truthfully.” It sounded weak even to his own ears.

“Professor’s never lied to anyone. I don’t know even think she knows how. She may not be all that willing to share on her own, but she’s no liar.” He slid the knife back into its hiding place, giving Seteth a long look. “You’d do better to just talk to her. And frankly? I don’t want to see you down here again. You church folk aren’t the most welcome here, and I won’t guarantee your safety after tonight.”

“But she is also a member of the church.”

Yuri laughed outright at that, hard enough his eyes watered. “Tell yourself that all you want. She may be a professor at that fancy church of yours, but she was a mercenary first, and that reputation is what counts down here.” He waved a hand dismissively. “She’s welcome. You aren’t. Go home to your little monastery, Seteth. And maybe actually try to talk to the professor before you go jumping to conclusions about things.”

Seteth opened his mouth, about to ask what the pair had been talking about, when he caught Yuri’s expression. The man would not be telling him, that much was certain. He sighed, admitting defeat. “Point taken.” A pause. “Ah… it might come off a little odd, I suppose, with all things considered, but… thank you for looking out for her.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not doing it for you. We take care of our own down here, and far’s any of us are concerned, she’s one of us.” The man turned and began walking away. “Balthus will make sure you find your way safely back to the surface.”

He’d been so preoccupied with Yuri that he hadn’t even noticed when the bigger man had arrived – and how did he manage that, anyway? The brawler in question grinned down at him, placing a large hand on his shoulder. “Come on, then, church man, let’s get you home all nice and safe, shall we?”

--------

It was later than he’d thought, by the time he was escorted out of Abyss, and after so many late nights, he was exhausted.

But it looked like his night wasn’t over yet. Byleth was waiting, legs dangling over the ledge of the dorm porch. Her hands were on either side of her as she leaned back, looking up at the night sky, but she straightened and glanced his way when he stepped out of the tunnel.

She didn’t look all that surprised to see who it was, and that made him hesitate, before he deflated with a sigh. “You knew?” he asked, as he approach her perch.

“You’re not the most subtle, you know. But it was a pretty standard night in Abyss for me.” Her lips quirked into an almost smirk, but it was gone quickly. “Longer than usual, actually. I was wondering if you were going to get tired and leave.”

He had the grace to flush, embarrassed. “I… I apologize. It was unbecoming of me to follow you and treat you like a criminal.”

“You don’t trust me.” She shrugged. “You’ve made that plain enough. And I can’t particularly blame you. I came here with my father, was made a professor despite not having any real qualifications. You don’t know who I am.” Her gaze narrowed, boring into him. “Whether you trust me or not is on you, but you would have gotten many more nights of rest if you had just asked.”

There was a long silence as he processed what she’d said. “You… you knew I was watching you?”

A curt nod. “Since the first night you tried to follow me. I didn’t know it was you at the time. You were very easy to shake, by the way.” Now she did move, hopping off the ledge and strolling over to him. She had to tilt her head to look up at him, but her gaze was no less steely. “I wouldn’t even care, really, if you were exhausting yourself, but it’s bothering others, and I’m not thrilled with that. Not to mention your presence around the Abyss entrance is a detriment. I’m not the only one who knew you were out here.”

“Go to bed, Seteth. Tomorrow’s a free day. Maybe you should use it to catch up on sleep.” She began to move past him, then paused, glancing over her shoulder. “And apologize to Flayn. Properly.” With that parting advice, she was off, her boot heels clicking on the stones as she wandered off.

Seteth wanted to follow, to see where she was headed at this hour, but decided against even asking. Instead, he side, sliding a hand down his face in a tired motion. There was a throbbing behind his eyes, a reminder that he’d not gotten nearly enough sleep in his pursuit of proving her to be untrustworthy. And that had only resulted in him looking the fool.

He retreated to his rooms, checking in briefly on Flayn, before writing a simple note for her that he would be resting the following day. Then, finally, he went to sleep.

--------

When he finally awoke shortly after lunch the next day, he found a tray with a simple meal of cold meats, cheese, and bread waiting for him, covered by a napkin. A note sat atop the entire thing, and he grimaced when he recognized the professor’s quick, choppy handwriting.

Flayn asked me to help make sure you were well fed on waking. Please take better care of yourself.

B. E.

He would have to thank her later. And… apologize again. Perhaps he really had been treating her more poorly than she deserved.

[clownsgobeepbeep]

Who the hell are he/she/are they?

A slight bit of angst...heartbreak for the salty sailor uwu

All around Ula were shadows deepening with every passing second, shades of purple slowly embracing the rest of her world as she knew it.

It was another one of those days in which work had her coming home late. Saturdays were always busy, even at night. Even at the late hour, Ula decided to stay out a bit longer. Her husbands would understand, they too had heard the news through her.

After a short drive along the water, Ula parked her car in front of the docks before stepping out and into the wooden bridge. Nobody was out, but they all knew there was a guest outside because of every sound her heels made. The sounds all ceased when she stood in front of a boat she frequented, her eyes examining it before she invited herself aboard.

“Davey?” she called out, her hand having knocked against the door she stood in front of now.

There was no response at first, nothing but muffled music sounding inside.

“Davey, it’s me, Ula.” she called out again, waiting for a response once again. She could have jokingly threatened to come in, but now wasn’t the time for that. “I understand if you want to be left alone, but I just need to make sure you are doing alright.”

She stared at the door for a while longer, refusing to leave until her instinct told her that was her best option. It wasn’t until Ula heard the locks from inside shift before the door handle turned, eventually revealing her brother standing in the doorway with hair messier than usual.

The siblings stared at each other momentarily, UIa offering a small smile.

“May I come in?”

Davey gave a sigh that was followed by a slow nod, and he moved out of the way to let his sister in.

Once inside, she heard the music he was playing. Sad music. Well that surely hit too close to home.

“Hello there, Peggy.” Ula crouched down to pet the axolotl that walked over to her with a wagging tail. “Good girl.”

Ula stood straight again, turning to Davey who sat at his bed. She then joined him, reaching over to hold his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m holding up.” Davey shrugged. “I feel like an idiot.”

“I can understand that.” Ula now moved her hand to Davey’s back, soothing him by rubbing her hand in a circular motion. “And I can understand how you feel right now. I know it sucks Davey, but it’s not the end of the world.”

“I know.” Davey released a deep breath as Peggy hopped onto her hind legs, her front one placed on Davey’s knee to comfort him as she also laid her head on his lap. “But...it still hurts a lot. I didn’t know what to tell her after she said no. Do we just...continue being friends? Do we stop talking?”

“Davey, sweetheart.” Ula stopped him. “Don’t be thinking all of those things, it’s too early to be jumping to conclusions. First off, what did she say to you?”

“I’m...I’m sorry Davey. I’m going to have to say no.”

“I...no?”

Davey couldn’t believe it. No...he actually could believe it. After all, it did take him this long to finally ask that silly little question that had now been replied to with a devastating answer.

“Davey, I’m sorry but...I’ve gone on a few dates with Trevor and...I have to admit that he’s a really nice guy, treats me very well and has actually been wooing me for a while.”

Davey’s eyes had widened as he looked at the girl in front of him, hands held in front of herself as they clutched onto themselves.

“I would feel terrible ending things so suddenly, especially if he found out that it was because I accepted your…” Ally bit her lip, not finding the right words as not even she knew what she was trying to say. “Davey...I admit that I’ve had feelings for you for a while. A long while. Seeing the way you acted with me, I would have never guessed that you reciprocated those feelings, so I felt hopeless and...it felt fruitless continuously pursuing you from afar.”

“Davey,” Ula offered a bit of a smile. “She did say that she’s had feelings for you for a long while.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Davey, she liked you since she was about 6. I would know. I was her babysitter.” Ula nudged her brother a bit. “Look, her wording implies that she still really, really likes you. The only thing stopping her from being with you is that she feels bad about the other guy.”

“Yeah, but how long till she breaks it with him? When he proposes? When they’re getting married?”

“Davey.”

A single stern mention of his name was enough to make Davey flinch a bit, almost as if his own mother were ready to scold him.

“I came here to check on you, not hear nonsensical assumptions. Your name is Davey, but I don’t want to see you acting like Davy Jones when his girlfriend left him.” his sister gave a bit of a huff, soon enough softening before embracing Davey from the side. “I’ll listen, but I don’t want you to assume these things, okay? I know it hurts, I’ve dealt with similar pain so I get it.”

“I know.”

“I know you know.” Ula brought a finger up to Davey’s nose, giving him a playful boop in hopes of lifting the mood just the slightest bit. “I’m here to listen, so tell me whatever you want. Get things off your chest.”

It was one of those days when Davey decided it would be dedicated to himself, and his trusty axolotl Peggy of course. There were a variety of things they could have done, a variety of places they could have gone to.

With Peggy leading the way with the leash that Davey held onto, the two strolled down the sidewalk as Davey whistled a tune to himself.

Green eyes glanced at every side every now and then, scanning their surroundings to decide where it was their owner would be going.

The beach seemed rather nice as did the pier. But, those were places he frequented, as was the aquarium and even the restaurant owned by his uncle. Perhaps it was a day to visit a different place.

Davey’s thoughts were soon interrupted by a bark that came from Peggy, the axolotl turning her head to look at him as she continued walking.

“What is it Peggy? You have an idea?” Davey grinned as Peggy continued to bark, turning her head to the right as if to tell Davey that was the way she wanted to go. “Alright, sounds good.”

The two walked to the corner of the sidewalk, soon crossing the street until reaching the next sidewalk where a series of buildings were found.

Once again Peggy led the way, taking Davey down the path before she turned her head to the left, motioning to a small building.

“The music store?” Davey asked as he eyed the building, smiling with a shrug before opening the door to let Peggy in first. “I don’t remember the last time I came here.”

Peggy responded with a bark and wag of her tail.

“Oh right, Schrader brought me here that one time.” Davey nodded as he remembered. “Good thing he introduced this place to me.”

Peggy nodded her head as she continued on the way with Davey following behind, actually looking around a bit as she had caught a scent before the two had even entered the store. As Davey looked around the multitude of CD’s and records, Peggy finally caught sight of a rather familiar girl.

“Whoa Peggy,” Davey looked down at the axolotl who was tugging at her leash. “Give me just a moment.”

Peggy continued to tug on the leash, insisting that they go where she was attempting to take Davey.

“Alright, alright!” Davey chuckled as he set down the things he had been looking at, walking after Peggy who eventually sat down at the beginning of an aisle, wagging her tail a bit as she waited for Davey to notice what she saw. “What’s wrong?”

Davey looked up, eyes widening as he caught sight of none other than his dear friend Ally.

There she was, standing in front of the listening station as she listened to a song through the headphones that were provided. She was clearly very focused on the song, not ever realizing that Davey and Peggy watched her from afar as she was also looking through a series of disc cases that clearly pertained to the music she was listening to.

“Let’s go say hi.” Davey grinned, already starting to walk forwards as several thoughts raced through his mind. It was the perfect moment to pop a rather important question Davey should have asked much earlier.

But that was when it happened: Davey and Peggy brought their walking to a stop when a new guy came into the picture.

He had a few CDs on hand, already next to Ally who smiled once she took notice of him.

“Who the hell is he?” Davey questioned with a furrow of his eyebrows, clutching onto the handle of Peggy’s leash as he saw how friendly Ally was with this young man. It could have been an employee helping her out, maybe flirting with her...Davey shook his head at those thoughts.

He noticed that this was just some person that Ally knew, probably from the circus.

Just some person who Ally already knew, some person who stood by her at a distance that was too close for Davey’s liking. Hell, could it have even been called a distance when there was almost no space between the two?

His arm was beside Ally’s, brushing over her skin in a manner meant to look accidental, as he showed her the CDs he had brought over. If Davey’s hearing was correct, he heard the guy say that these were songs they should definitely listen to the next time they “hang out”.

“It’s him.” Davey squeezed his fists, eyes glancing down at Peggy who was already looking up at him.

Davey directed her a simple nod, Peggy practically nodding back before Davey released her leash. On accident, of course.

“So I was thinking,”

“Yes?”

“I could buy these discs and we could head over to my pl-”

“Peggy!”

Ally and the male stopped talking, looking over to the side where Peggy ran down the aisle, immediately jumping onto Ally’s legs.

“Oh! Hello Peggy.” Ally greeted before looking up, now seeing Davey who had apparently been running after the loose Peggy. “Davey! Hi…”

“Hey Ally! Funny running into you and...” Davey stopped himself, then turned to the other young man who looked a tad bit disappointed his conversation with Ally had been interrupted. “...your friend.”

“Trevor.” the male replied, offering a hand out to Davey with a polite smile. “And, Davey, right?”

“Yeah.” Davey nodded, keeping his eyes on the male’s hand for a moment before forcing himself to accept it, soon giving it a quick shake before immediately retreating his arm. “Ally’s friend since...a very young age.”

“I’ve heard, Ally has told me about you.” Trevor nodded. “Ally and I have also been friends for a while I’d say. We’re always together at the circus.”

“Oh, that’s...nice.” Davey nodded. “She’s never really mentioned you to me.”

“Guess I wasn’t important enough to mention.” Trevor joked as he gave a bit of a laugh.

“Don’t say that, you’ve always been a good friend of mine.” Ally chuckled back, neither of the two noticing how Davey’s fists clenched once again.

Noticing this, Peggy barked before getting in between the pair, Trevor a bit surprised but not minding as he could tell Peggy clearly enjoyed being in Ally’s presence .

“How long have you guys been friends?” Davey blurted out with a smile.

“A good few years.”

“Since we both became campers at the circus.” Ally answered confidently. “And now, we’re counselors together.”

“Oh. That’s nice.” Davey repeated his previous phrase. “So you’re both really into this circus stuff?”

“Definitely.” Trevor gave a nod. “In fact, I was thinking of applying to work at Fright Elysium.”

“The carnival?” Davey’s eyebrows rose. “My brother in law owns that place.”

“Really?”

“Sure does.”

“Ha, well I’d appreciate it if you could put a good word in my name to your in law.” Trevor gave a laugh, Ally nodding with a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll make sure to do just that.” Davey cleared his throat. “Um, what else do you like?”

“Me? Oh, I’m not such an interesting guy.” Trevor gave a shrug. “How about you tell me a bit about yourself? I've heard from Ally, but it’d be nice to hear from you. You like any of that clown-y stuff?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Davey scratched the back of his head. This was definitely a topic that bothered him a bit due to things he had been told by Ally’s sister. “I juggle.”

“Cool.”

“And make balloon animals. I can do sword tricks, fire-breathing. “ he continued. “I have a lot of good puns. How about you?”

“Oh, I just do the typical circus-performer stuff.”

“You’re too humble.” Ally added on with a bit of a laugh. “Trevor’s the best at the flying trapeze. The kids really love watching him soar through the air.”

“My acts would be a lot better if I had a designated partner.” Trevor directed his attention to Ally, looking her rather deeply in the eyes. At this, a blush crept up Ally's face as she turned away, no doubt flustered by the unexpected comment.

“Hopefully you find a partner that suits your needs.” Davey cleared his throat rather loudly.

“Yeah, hopefully.” Trevor nodded as he too cleared his throat, looking back at Ally who couldn't bring herself to look back at him. “It’s actually about to be 3, I should be on my way now.”

“Oh, that sucks. I was just starting to know you.” Davey shrugged, taking notice of the wagging from Peggy’s tail. They wasted enough time to prevent Trevor from continuing his previous conversation with Ally.

“Oh, if that’s the case then maybe I should head out too.” Ally looked at her watch. “The meeting with Cuckoo should be starting soon.”

“I’ll see you there then.” Trevor began to walk away, giving a wave to Davey. “It was nice meeting you, Davey.”

“Ditto.” Davey replied, not bothering to watch Trevor leave, instead turning his attention to Ally in an instant. “Are you going to be heading out too?”

“Soon enough, yes.” Ally gave a nod. “Was there...something you needed?”

“Yeah, actually. I, um, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” Ally blinked as Davey slightly shuffled his feet, thoughts of envy now gone as he mustered up the courage to finally talk to her the way he wanted to.

“So, look.” Davey started with a cough, cheeks already burning up as he continued. “Ally, I...I like you.”

Ally stared at Davey for a good moment, blinking a few times before motioning for him to continue, just in case she wasn’t really getting the message.

“I like, like really like you. Like, um. Ally.”

“Yes, Davey?”

“I’ve had feelings for you...for a while.” Davey continued after clearing his throat. “Like, a long while I think. Um, my point is, I’ve been wanting to ask this. I should have asked this earlier, I was...stupid for not asking sooner.”

“Asking…?”

“Ally,” Davey sucked his breath in, feeling Peggy give him a nudge on the leg, trying to help him out a bit. “ Do you want to go out on a date with me?”

At the sound of this, Ally’s eyes widened, and she blinked soon after she realized that this was not some sort of dream.

“A...d-date? Like...go out, romantically?”

“Y-yeah, I suppose.” Davey nodded as he nervously darted his eyes away, then looking back at Ally who had to release a deep breath after a while of hesitating.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“I’m...I’m sorry Davey. I’m going to have to say no.”

“I...no?”

“Davey, I’m sorry but...I’ve gone on a few dates with Trevor and...I have to admit that he’s a really nice guy, treats me very well and has actually been wooing me for a while.”

“I would feel terrible ending things so suddenly, especially if he found out that it was because I accepted your…” Ally bit her lip, not finding the right words as not even she knew what she was trying to say. “Davey...I admit that I’ve had feelings for you for a while. A long while, since we were children in fact. Seeing the way you acted with me, I would have never guessed that you reciprocated those feelings, so I felt hopeless and...it felt fruitless continuously pursuing you from afar.”

“Wow, I...I’m an idiot.” Davey breathed out as he processed the words, replaying them in his head a few times. “Since we were kids…”

“Davey,” Ally reached out to him in concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Davey immediately forced a smile. “I’m perfect.”

“Are you sure?”

��Ally, I can’t say I didn’t expect this.” Davey gave a tiny laugh, feeling Peggy nudge his legs as if to comfort him. “I’m sorry, for not asking. Or more like, for taking so long.”

Ally stared at him, worried about having upset him.

“Davey-”

“It’s okay Ally, I totally understand.” Davey nodded as he began to step away. “I really do, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Davey, please-”

“I will definitely see you around.” Davey interrupted. “Hopefully we can hang out sometime soon.”

“That’s how you ended it?”

“I didn’t know what else to say, Ula.”

“Maybe you should have let her talk.”

“What else was she supposed to say?” Davey asked his sister. “She said she didn’t want to hurt the other guy...that they’d gone on some dates, he’s been after her for so long...she was after me and I never took notice of it.”

Ula stared at her little brother, giving a sigh before she turned her attention to Peggy who was cuddled up to him. The axolotl no doubt thought this situation was rather dramatic and ridiculous, but what could she do as a little axolotl?

“Davey,” Ula ran a hand through Davey’s hair. “You know what would do you good?”

“What?” Davey turned to Ula, she seeing his tired eyes even more clearly.

“Coming over to my house and spending the night. Atlas and Schrader haven’t seen you in a while, and Peggy should spend some time with her relatives.” Ula suggested. “We can watch some movies, don’t even have to go to sleep. I have a lot of snacks, just for the two of us.”

“Spending the night at your house?” Davey blinked as he thought about it; Ula was relieved when she saw a tiny smile creep up on his lips. “I think...that sounds like a good idea.”

[pilot-boi]

Too Much

Daemons dissolve into Golden Dust when they die, everyone knows this. Their bodies were made of the stuff after all, and they returned to it when their person died.

But then again, so does Pyrrha Nikos.

All are of the Dust, and all turn to Dust again

AO3 LINK

With eyes sharper than any human’s, Qrow Branwen kept a close eye on the battle raging beneath him. Dustakhia flew beside him, their wingtips almost touching with how close they were. Tonight was not the kind of night to get separated.

Grimm tore through the streets and the skies, all red eyes and white bone. The White Fang were still wreaking havoc down there as well. Thank the gods that Jimmy’s damned robots were finally shut off, though who they had to thank for that Qrow couldn’t say for certain.

From his birds-eye view, pun very much intended, he spotted the Nikos girl running out of the tower, followed closely by that one blonde kid. No Oz though, guess he was still below taking care of the would-be Maiden.

Guess it was time for that whole shebang to happen. 

Not a moment too soon, he thought, swooping to one side to dodge a dive bombing Nevermore. Things were getting worse by the second, and they weren’t likely to get another chance by the way the night was going.

“Qrow!” shouted his daemon over the rushing wind. He looked where she was indicating and would have raised his eyebrows in recognition if he currently had any.

Oh shit. Speaking of how the night was going.

A certain dark haired Faunus was weaving through the battlefield, dodging Grimm left and right, all while dragging someone with a hauntingly familiar mane of blonde hair along with them. Behind her, the Faunus’ panther daemon dragged an equally unconscious bear.

Ice flooded his body. Yang and Titus weren’t moving. Why weren’t Yang and Titus moving?!

Meeting Dusty’s eyes he nodded, fairly certain that he would have been unable to verbally respond even if he’d been in human form, but he knew she understood. They were the same person after all.

Wings tucked to his sides, he dove towards the two figures and their daemons. Qrow’s eyes picked up on odd details, like how Yang’s friend was limping, or the tears on her face, or how she was running from something, but there were no Grimm on her metaphorical tail.

Qrow just barely had time to notice how Titus was dripping golden Dust from a wound in his foreleg that mirrored the one in his niece’s arm before he was nearly knocked out of the air by his other niece.

His squawk of alarm was echoed in his daemon, and Dusty looked distinctly ruffled where she flapped a meter or so away from him. Being pulled up short in the middle of a dive was never pleasant, and tonight already had his nerves on their last thread.

He eyed the ground, searching for the tell-tale bright hair that would indicate where his definitely injured niece was, but it was gone. 

Qrow did manage to spot Ruby’s cape and Eurus’s familiar grey-furred form darting through the swarming mass of Grimm. Every so often she vanished in a cloud of brighter-than-normal petals and reappeared behind a soon to be melting Grimm, usually flanked by her daemon to ensure the kill. 

They’d be okay, even in this horror show.

But where was Yang?

“We’ll find her,” Dusty called to him, feeding him reassurances through their bond. He only hoped she was right.

He swooped down alleyways, forever thankful for the sharp eyesight granted to him in this form. It was necessary to find Yang, and finding Yang was paramount. 

The only disadvantage of his enhanced eyesight was it allowed him to see more clearly than any human the extent of the carnage hiding in these shadows. Bodies ripped to shreds and left to rot, most in poses that indicated they’d been slaughtered running or trying to hide. 

Golden Dust from dead daemons covered everything like the most macabre glitter imaginable.

The worst bodies were the ones with injuries he recognized as ones not made by the Grimm. Bullet holes from white-shelled robots and violent extremists alike. These weren’t victims of nature, even twisted nature. These people were victims of other people. 

Qrow’s only comfort was that he had yet to recognize Yang or her black-haired friend among the bodies. And the longer he looked, the more likely it became that they’d made it to the docks were Glynda had ordered everyone to retreat for evacuation.

To his right, Dusty called softly that she hadn’t spotted them either, which was comforting at least. Her quiet words were cut off by the roar of a rocket from overhead, and Qrow looked up just in time to see… a locker? 

The blue flames were unmistakable, he’d used the same lockers when he’d gone here after all. But why would there be a weapons locker being launched this late into the battle? All the kids that weren’t armed by now were probably dead, as horrible as it was to think about.

“We’re not having any luck here,” Dusty remarked, and Qrow would have snorted at her choice of words if he’d been able to. Even without looking, Qrow could feel her rolling her eyes at him. “You know what I mean you idiot.”

He did, but hey, sue him. The world was falling the fuck apart, he was gonna take the levity he could take, even and especially if it was at his own expense.

“We should regroup at the docks,” and he followed her when she soared back above the rooftops, “Glynda’ll be wondering where we are.” Yeah she would, but he knew perfectly well that Dusty was only saying this to hide her own worry about their niece.

Gliding over the rooftops, he saw more bodies than he had since his days with the tribe. And even then, never this many all at once.

His heart sank when he vaguely recognized a group of bodies. Same coating of golden Dust on all three of them, but the weapons in their hands identified them as students. Students he vaguely recognized from alcohol-blurred memories of a tournament fight with Nikos’ team.

“Only three bodies,” Dusty commented, echoing his own thoughts. “Maybe the fourth got away.” At least one of them was around to be optimistic. Qrow didn’t really see the point.

Finally reaching the docks, he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding at the sight of the huddled form of his firecracker. And if she was here, and not being crowded by medics and other yahoos, then her injury wasn’t life threatening. Thank the gods.

Swooping behind a lamppost, not even bothering to find a less conspicuous place in his hurry, he landed as a human already running towards the cluster of huddled figures. Dusty swooped after him, wing tips brushing up against his head as she kept pace. The cluster of people was much smaller than he’d been expecting, even after seeing the amount of bodies more first hand than probably anyone besides the dead themselves.

He recognized Yang, obviously, and her black-haired friend. His niece was still unconscious, lying more limp and expressionless than he’d ever seen her and… dear gods… her arm-

Qrow shook himself. There would be time for all that later. He’d just barely relaxed upon seeing that Yang was safe when his heart clenched again upon realizing that now his other niece was missing, along with her white-haired teammate. Winter’s kid sister.

Glynda wasn’t here so he turned to the only other adults present. “Where’s Ruby?” he rasped to Oobleck and Port before he’d even fully reached them. Dusty came and settled on his shoulder as he finally stopped, flapping her wings and shifting restlessly, betraying his own emotions.

The two teacher’s daemons weren’t much better, but they both seemed to be holding themselves together as best as they could. “Miss Rose and Miss Schnee insisted on returning to the tower,” Oobleck said sharply before Port could go off onto what would surely be a well-meaning but long-winded tangent.

“You hafta go after them!” insisted a battered looking blonde kid from where he was crouched beside a pair of even more worse for wear kids. 

Qrow glanced down at the pair, who seemed to be struggling to get up for some reason even with obvious injuries covering them head to two. Their poor daemons were soaked in Dust, but they too were nudging their humans into more upright positions. What the hell?

Probably seeing his confused expression, the blonde kid said, “Jaune and Pyrrha are still down there.” As if he was supposed to know who they were. The kid’s teammates he supposed but still...

Pyrrha. 

Pyrrha Nikos. 

He connected the dots. 

“I’ll be right back,” he growled at nobody in particular, taking off at a run back towards the tower where he could see signs of a battle. Fire and gold, but that was all he could see from this distance. That dragon was unmistakable though.

“Make sure Yang gets to a mediship as soon as possible!” Dusty called back to the assembled, ignoring the shocked expressions they bore from his daemon speaking to them directly. Screw the taboos. Enough was falling apart tonight, why not that as well.

Slipping his form back into feathers, he shot through the air like a missile. As the crow flies was the saying, and by the gods he flew that night.

Qrow flew and he saw. 

He saw Nikos’s blonde friend crumpled next to the locker he’d spotted earlier. Dead or dying, probably. A golden dog was lying on the ground beside him, so not dead yet then. He had no time.

He saw Jimmy fighting like the machine he was, his daemon a whirlwind of fur and claws beside him. He saw Glynda brushing Grimm aside with a flick of her riding crop like they were no heavier than paper. He had no time.

He saw Winter’s kid sister fighting almost dancing in a snowstorm of glyphs. The flash of her rapier cutting through the oil-smoke bodies of countless Grimm was only outmatched by the glow from the symbols that swirled in the air around her. He had no time.

He saw a pathway of a dark echo of those glyphs tracing their way up to the top of the tower. He saw the last flicker of his niece’s cape and her daemon’s tail disappear over the lip of the tower. No time, no time, no time-

He didn’t see a flash like a bonfire and a sudden end to the fight at the top of the tower.

He did see a flash like wings of light and fire, and he heard the gut-wrenching scream and howl that accompanied it.

Qrow was out of time.

If it weren’t for Dusty immediately racing for where the brilliantly white light was barely fading, he probably would have dropped right out of the sky. Only the insistent tug at their lengthening bond kept him moving forward.

Summer. Oh gods it couldn’t be happening again. Not Ruby, please, gods, please-

Shooting over the edge of the tower, he was human before he hit the ground. “Ruby!” he shouted, gathering his niece’s body up into his arms. Dusty was at his side nosing her beak through Eurus’s fur. But neither the girl nor her wolf were responding.

They weren’t responding, but the sheer fact that Eurus had yet to scatter into golden Dust was evidence enough that Ruby was still alive. Qrow was shaking with sobs, and Ruby’s head was lolling unresponsive against his shoulder, but she was alive.

Speaking of golden Dust…

After who knew how long, Qrow drew back to look around, suddenly remembering that there had been a fight here. And judging by how the loser had been dispatched, he probably shouldn't lower his guard against whoever was the new Fall Maiden. With a wary glance towards the dragon, he counted himself lucky that it at least seemed incapacitated.

But the Dust… It was everywhere. Far more than there should have been, even from the death of an elephant sized daemon.

And where was the body?

Laying Ruby gently on the ground beside her equally unresponsive daemon, he lurched to his feet and finally looked around. The wind that whipped through the destroyed office made him register on a distant level that his face was wet with tears. But in this disaster area, he had no time for them.

Gears lay everywhere, along with cracked pillars and most of the ceiling. The CCT was definitely busted, but that was barely a concern at the moment. Where was the body?

Stumbling forward, he glanced backwards towards Dusty, who was still sitting beside their niece. She’d keep watch for now, her stance seemed to say. He thought he’d reached the limit for how grateful he could be for his daemon, but apparently he’d been wrong.

Qrow stepped carefully over shattered bits of building and what looked like the remains of Oz’s desk. Dust was covering every surface in a film of glittering sand, and he still hadn’t found the body. 

Reaching what had to be the epicenter, judging on the concentration of Dust and at the very edge of his bond with Dusty, he realized why.

Sitting in the middle, atop a pile of golden powder and beside what looked like a trail of footprints of a woman about Winter’s size, he found a crown of bronze.

Only the crown though. Its owner was nowhere to be seen.

The almost-bonfire he’d barely seen suddenly made sense, as did the abundance of golden Dust, too much for just one daemon. Pyrrha Nikos was gone. Gone the way a daemon went, dissolved into golden light and Dust at the moment of her death.

Not even a body left to bury. Ruby hadn’t died the way Summer had at least, but it seemed like poor Miss Nikos had taken her place.

[odyssean-flower]

the winding path of fate ch 10 (scrapped version)

the chapter is coming along nicely. this is the scrapped version of the first half. the final version will be something like this. constructive criticism is welcome

“Madame, are you feeling alright? Please let me know if we need to stop the boat somewhere for a short rest.”

“I assure you, I’m fine. I stopped feeling nauseous a long time ago. The boat has been moving very smoothly so far.”

Despite your repeated assurances, Neuvillette still looked slightly doubtful. He was probably going to ask this question again later.

After lunch, Neuvillette took you to a small dock to the south of the willow tree, where there was a small, inconspicuous boat waiting to take you two to Elynas, where Merusea Village was located. The vishap had followed you and saw you off.

The rowboat had been fine, but queasiness took hold of you once you got onto this boat. It was probably because you just had lunch. Luckily, the boat wasn’t going too fast. You suspected that it was on purpose.

You glanced up at Neuvillette. Like the rowboat at the tree, this boat was smoothly cutting through the water of its own accord. You didn’t hear the sound of the motor, nor was there anyone at the wheel.

Leaning back against the cushions of the seat that Neuvillette made you sit on after you first mentioned your dizziness, you closed your eyes. The warm sunlight felt like a comforting blanket, and the refreshing sea breeze stroked the hair at your nape like gentle fingers. The boat’s steady rocking was soothing, almost hypnotic. Ah, this is heaven. I’ve been missing out.

The cry of a seabird near your ear caused you to open your eyes. You saw Neuvillette standing at the bow. His long snow-white hair was fluttering in the wind, along with his coat tails. He had his cup in his hand, no doubt filled with water. You couldn’t see his expression from here, but judging from the relaxed set of his shoulders, he was also enjoying himself.

In another life, Neuvillette would make a fine ship captain, you idly thought as you observed his stately, erect figure. He certainly had the bearing of one. Or what you imagined a captain would be like from the various novels and books you read.

Your fingers itched to paint him. You were already thinking about the composition and colors. This was strange. Usually, you didn’t really enjoy painting people. You didn’t even like doing self-portraits. Landscapes and buildings were more to your taste.

As though sensing your gaze, Neuvillette turned around and looked at you. “We will be reaching Elynas in about an hour or so. Please, relax until then, Madame. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“I am. Please stop asking,” you said firmly and resolutely fixed your gaze ahead. The sharp peaks of Elynas were still just a faint dot in the distance. You could see the shadows of ships gliding on the water. What would their passengers think if they saw the Chief Justice standing in this small, inconspicuous boat?

You turned your head back in the direction of Erinnyes. All you could see now was the shoreline and verdant trees. It was as though that giant willow tree and vishap never existed in the first place. Like it was all a dream.

The seat next to you sank down with Neuvillette’s weight. “Did you enjoy our time at Erinnyes?”

“Oh, I did!” you turned to him with a broad smile. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light, but you thought his eyes widened slightly. “It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever been to. It’s so…so mystical. I wish we could have stayed longer.”

Neuvillette let out a little chuckle. He put his hand to his mouth, as though to hide his expression. “I’m very glad to hear that. I hope the vishap didn’t spoil your mood.”

“Not at all,” you shook your head. “I was a little scared at first, sure, but she was actually very gentle. I did assume there would be more vishaps around, though.”

“Most of them live underwater to hide from the sunlight and humans. I considered summoning them aboveground to introduce you to them, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

The thought of those large vishaps dwelling beneath the ground was somewhat disconcerting, but thrilling at the same time. Erinnyes was supposed to have a complicated network of underground caverns. You supposed they lived there.

Another thought occurred to you just then. “You can speak their language,” you turned to him. “Are you related to them in some way? Like…their overseer or something?”

“Overseer…? Interesting choice of words,” Neuvillette stroked his chin, thinking your question over. “I would not call myself that, but I do watch over them, and they depend on me.”

“I see,” you said. It didn’t escape your notice that he didn’t answer your question about whether or not he was related to them. You stared at his slitted eyes again. They did resemble vishaps’ eyes quite a lot. Could Neuvillette turn into a vishap? You couldn’t quite imagine it. If he could transform into something, you’d imagine that it would be something more majestic and graceful, like…

Neuvillette cleared his throat. That was when you realized that you had been staring into his eyes for far too long. Hastily, you looked away, your gaze landing on the sparkling water.

“I…I didn’t know that the Chief Justice’s duties also extend to looking after the wild creatures of the land,” you said. You hoped that you didn’t sound too flustered. “I don’t know how you manage it.”

“Well, those wild creatures, as you called them, are also citizens of Fontaine, so they are under my purview in that sense. And also, the role of Chief Justice isn’t the only role I play.”

You didn’t quite understand what he was talking about, and he didn’t seem to have any intention of elaborating. For a while, the two of you watched the neighboring shoreline move past you.

Eventually, the back of the Opera Epiclese came into view. And in the distance, the Court of Fontaine loomed over the waters. Looking at it from here, you once again appreciated just how big it was. When you first moved there, it had taken you weeks to find your way around without getting lost.

“What a great view of the city,” you said. “I’d love to take some pictures of it.”

“Why don’t you, then?”

“I’m afraid I’ll run out of film since I took so many pictures back at Erinnyes, so I want to save it for Merusea Village.”

“There’s no need to worry about that. I’ve brought several rolls of film with me,” Neuvillette patted his pocket.

“Oh, really! Don’t mind if I do, then.”

You went to the cabin to get the Kamera, then proceeded to take pictures of the city from several angles. It certainly looked imposing, with its tall ramparts and the lofty Mont Esus looming in the background, but it was simply too gaudy and new-looking for your liking. You found yourself focusing on the sunken ramparts poking out from beneath the water instead. Are those from the last flood period? I wonder what used to be there…?

“You stopped taking pictures all of a sudden,” At some point, Neuvillette had come up next to you, sipping from his cup. “Is something the matter?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you said quickly. He’s standing kind of close, isn’t he? His sleeve was brushing against yours. “I just got a little lost in my thoughts.”

“Oh? What sort of thoughts?” Neuvillette leaned in closer. Strands of his hair brushed the top of your shoulder. You could smell his cologne. It smelled good, although you couldn’t identify the scent. Maybe I should start wearing perfume…?

“Uh…I-I was thinking about architecture,” you gave a vague answer. He really was standing too close, wasn’t he? Perhaps you should move away a little after all.

It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable with being in close quarters with a man or anything. He was your husband, after all, so you should probably get used to it. It was simply that you were still coming to grips with the fact that you were on this little boat in the middle of the sea with the Chief Justice (who really did look quite resplendent. You should ask to take a picture of him. As a souvenir of this day, of course), and you couldn’t forget how different and warm and comforting it felt to be in his arms. That was all.

“You’re interested in architecture, Madame? Indeed, the Court of Fontaine is awe-inspiring when seen from the water. I’ve heard many people liken it to a fortified castle. What caught your eye?”

“Nothing in particular,” you said. “I was just thinking about how, um, modern it looks.”

“You don’t sound very impressed,” Neuvillette sounded amused.

“I wouldn’t say that…” you said, struggling to figure out how to bring this topic to an end. “I simply have different aesthetic preferences

You felt Neuvillette’s heavy, questioning gaze upon you, but didn’t turn to meet it.

The shadow of the aquabus rail passed over you, marking the halfway point of your journey.

You offered to give the Kamera to Neuvillette so he could take pictures as well, but he declined, stating that he brought it for your sake and that you should take pictures to your heart’s content.

With Elynas gradually coming closer and closer, the skies seemed to darken as well. Elynas was reputed to be dangerous, so in that sense, you supposed that it was appropriate lighting for the setting. Rain wasn’t in the weather forecast today, but as you were quickly learning, the weather worked on its own terms.

Glistening colors in the water caught your eye. A school of fish was swimming past the boat. You managed to get some good pictures. Here, the water was exceptionally clear, enough that you could see all the way to the white sandy bottom.

In between shots of brightly colored sea plants and what looked like old sunken buildings (you hoped), you looked up at the sky. The clouds were gray and heavy-looking. Would it really rain? Hopefully, you would be in Merusea Village before that happened.

“Worried about the weather?” Neuvillette asked, his eyes fixed on the sea ahead. You remembered a story that Muirne, a Melusine who worked at the Palais Mermonia, told you about Neuvillette staring out at sea and causing a crowd of people to wonder if there was something going on out there. Looking at him now, you could understand how that happened. There was a magnetic intensity in his gaze that drew you to him. You had never seen that expression for yourself, though. Perhaps it was reserved for the sea.

There were many things you didn’t know about him, even though you lived with him for months now. The thought gave you a strange restlessness.

“A little bit. Do you think it will clear up?” Neuvillette always seemed to be more intuned with the weather than regular people.

“Hmm…” Neuvillette closed his eyes for a moment. “Perhaps, or perhaps not. It remains to be seen.”

You frowned. His tone retained his usual smoothness, but there was something else in it that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It was vaguely familiar.

“How annoying,” you remarked. “I’ve always hated it when the sky can’t make up its mind as to whether or not it will rain. It should just stay clear if it can’t decide.”

Neuvillette chuckled. You looked at him questioningly. “…My apologies,” he said. “I wasn’t making fun of you. I simply…found your response to be very much you.”

“Huh?” you tilted your head to the side.  Neuvillette was smiling, and his eyes glittered. He was in an exceedingly good mood for some reason. You didn’t grasp the reason, but as long as he was happy…

You asked to take a few pictures of him, and was somewhat surprised when he agreed easily. You were under the impression that he didn’t like being photographed, considering the scarcity of his photos in the papers and his avoidance of being in public.

“Should I pose or, ah, smile?” he asked, fiddling with his fingers. Maybe he was like you, uncomfortable with being photographed.

“No. All you have to do is to stand and look as you usually do,” you said, even as you find yourself curious about what sorts of poses Neuvillette would make. “Just stand against the railing and look out at sea. That would be perfect.”

As you aimed the lens at Neuvillette and looked at him through the viewfinder, it struck you then that from an outsider’s point of view, you looked like a real couple, on a real date.

Embarrassingly, the thought made your heart flutter.

The boys back in your hometown had never interested you (not that your mother would have approved of you getting with anyone who wasn’t wealthy), and the less said about your experiences after debuting, the better.

So, this was truly your first, real, actual date.

Except it wasn’t, really. It was a sham, all for show. It was like a play, almost, performed for an invisible audience. A farce for no one except the two of you (and the Hydro Archon).

But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re happy right now, a voice whispered in your mind. How long had it been since your heart felt so light?

You weren’t sure if that made you more pathetic or not.

You took a deep breath, clearing your mind of these errant thoughts, and concentrated on taking pictures of Neuvillette. He really is very photogenic, you thought. Though he does a look a bit stiff. You put on what you thought was an encouraging smile to help him relax, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Whoops?

After you were done, Neuvillette said, “I do hope the pictures will turn out well.”

“I’m sure they will,” you said, putting the Kamera back down and flopping back down onto the bench. “There is no finer pairing than a handsome man and beautiful scenery.”

Neuvillette made a choked noise. He blinked rapidly and shook his head, like he couldn’t believe what he just heard. “Pardon me?”

“‘There’s no finer pairing than a handsome man and beautiful scenery’?” you repeated your words, confused. Neuvillette still looked a bit stunned. You began to wonder if you had said something wrong. You meant it as an innocuous comment, but it could be taken the wrong way in the context of your relationship. Perhaps Neuvillette thought you meant something more by it. You should rectify things before a misunderstanding occurred.

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, Neuvillette beat you to the punch.

“You…consider me handsome?”

Now it was your turn to stare at him. “Of course I do?”

“I-I see,” Neuvillette said in a low voice. He seemed awfully caught off guard by your words. That was strange. Surely he was used to receiving compliments on his looks? The papers always made sure to describe his looks in loving detail whenever he made a rare public appearance, and it was well known that he had a legion of fangirls, some of whom had even been sent to the Fortress of Meropide for their extreme behavior.

“I mean, I consider you handsome in the same way that most Fontainians do. I don’t mean anything untoward, sir. Did you find what I said offensive?”

“No,” Neuvillette said, then cleared his throat. He was looking at anywhere but you. You could have sworn that the tips of his ears turned red. He almost seemed embarrassed. “No, I was simply…simply surprised, that’s all.”

“Surprised? Why?”

“Because you…ah, never acted in a way that suggested that you did…” Neuvillette struggled to find the words to finish his sentence. Poor man, you were embarrassing him to death. “Admire my looks, so I assumed that you…did not think of me in that way.”

You stared at him with your mouth agape, only to hastily close your mouth when you saw how flustered you were making him. So Neuvillette was aware of the effect that his looks had on people. “Wait, what about that time when I kept staring at you? That counts, right?”

“No, it was different. It felt more as though you were trying to analyze me,” he said. He must be so used to the amorous stares of his admirers that he was able to differentiate between the different types of gazes. His brow wrinkled, as though recalling unpleasant memories. Most likely related to the more extreme side of his fans. Poor man, you thought again.

“I see,” you nodded. “I am sorry if I caused any offence by never saying anything.”

“It isn’t something I care a whit about,” Neuvillette said quickly. If you didn’t know him, you would have thought he was trying to convince himself. “I find the fixation on appearances quite baffling and needless, honestly.”

“Really?” you gave him a once-over. He wasn’t wearing his usual judge’s garb, but he was still dressed much too formally for a casual outing like this. The afternoon sun gilded the edges of his white hair, which looked soft and silky to the touch. His hair care regimen must be intensive.

“Yes, really,” he nodded. “I only put up with such standards because of the demands of my position.”

Easy for someone as stunning as him to say, you thought, but felt no bitterness. Maybe it was because he sounded truly sincere.

Perhaps it was that sincerity that spurred you on to say what you said next.

“Even so, I think there’s nothing wrong with complimenting someone on their looks, especially when they look as radiant as you,” you struggled to find the right words. You were never much of a writer. “Looking at you…reminds me of the mountains near my home. I liked seeing them every day. They never fail to take my breath away.”

A thought popped into your head. Wait, a comparison to the sea would have been more apt here. But truth be told, you didn’t have any strong connection to the sea. Mountains, on the other hand, have been the constant backdrop for your childhood, so that was why they were the first thing that popped into your mind.

Neuvillette, who had been looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face during this whole ordeal, remained as expressionless as ever. His cheek seemed to twitch a little, and his lips were pressed together tightly.

“I’m sure that you received far more flattering remarks,” you said, looking at your feet. You felt your cheeks beginning to burn. “But I do mean what I said.”

A nearby seabird’s cry made you turn. Elynas was right before your eyes. Just a little stretch of water between the boat and the island.

You heard a rustle of clothing near you. Neuvillette had taken his cup out again and was sipping from it. He seemed to gripping the stem rather tightly, though it was hard to tell because of his gloves. When he noticed your gaze, he lowered his cup.

He then took your hand in his and raised it to his mouth. Before your astonished eyes, he pressed lips against the back of your hand. The kiss was feather-light; you barely felt it.

“Perhaps I have received more eloquent compliments,” he said, his voice low. Lower than you had ever heard it. “But for some inexplicable reason, I cannot seem to recall them right now.”

There wasn’t a cloud in sight in the skies above your head.

[dregstrash]

Knife in the Back (ch. 3)

a/n: Here’s chapter 3 of the collab fic I did with @wafflesandkruge for the @grishaversebigbang. Definitely check out all the art that came with this in the first chapter! Hope you guys enjoy!

AO3 // Chapter 1

Anyone can make a mistake. 

That single thought spun in Inej’s mind as she drove back to the station after her brief meeting with Kaz Brekker. 

No one was infallible. Human error was always going to be a factor. Even self-proclaimed experts could make the stupidest mistakes. Brekker shouldn’t be an exception. It should have been simple to believe that he had taken off his glove after dumping the girl, and had thrown it away by accident.

If she could manage to believe that, and when Wylan was done analyzing the glove, she could have enough evidence to bring Kaz in with one concrete piece of evidence. It could be enough to prosecute him for this murder, and then tie that back to the unsolved murder from five years ago which she had always suspected he was behind. In one fell swoop, she could bring Kaz Brekker down. But, unfortunately, it wasn’t easy to believe that someone as meticulous as him would ever just take his gloves off at the end of a job, and leave them out in the open. 

She’s spent the better part of three years following the murky and unclear path of Kaz Brekker, and if she knew anything about the Bastard of the Barrel it was that he always got the job done, and he always left no trace. Rumors say that he was a sleeper agent from Shu-Han, waiting for the right moment to strike against the Kerch. Others say that he was tied to dozens of murders of high dignitaries and ambassadors, and that if you ever wanted to make someone disappear, he was the best. Inej has spent countless hours pouring over the stories and the hearsays, but nothing could ever point to anything conclusive. 

And with this one perfectly wrapped crime scene sitting on her lap, it was hard for her to take it as it was. She pulled up to the police parking lot, and headed straight for the forensics department. Wylan had texted that he had something promising, and Inej was ready to hear about anything that didn’t have a massive question mark attached to it.

“Hey, Inej.” Wylan called from the back of the room as the sliding doors let Inej in her friend’s office.

“Wylan,” Inej greeted as she reached where her friend was hunched over his computer looking at a document that made Inej’s eyes swim. “You said you had something for me?” 

He looked up and his sky blue eyes danced excitedly, making his red gold curls appear more disheveled than usual. 

“Yes! You were right. The glove does match the DNA evidence that was found in your cold case from five years ago. So it’s definitely Kaz Brekker’s.” Inej didn’t even have time to be surprised before Wylan continued. “With the state of the body, I think you can probably guess to the cause of death.” He pointed to the bullet hole through the hear of the corpse. “But there was a significant penetration at her kidney that happened ante-mortem.”

“Torture?”

Wylan lifted his shoulders, “Most likely.”

Curious, Inej thought. The murder was almost exactly like her cold case, but while she was positive Kaz Brekker was the culprit to the former, she couldn’t be positive about him being responsible for the latter.

“What about the clothes? Did you get anything on those?”

At this Wylan’s eyes dimmed slightly, “Unfortunately no. I can only really tell you that they had been freshly washed. No traces of hair or any carpet fibers or anything. If Brekker really did this, then he was pretty careful about taking out any evidence that could even remotely connect him to this murder.”

“Except for the glove.” Inej reminded him.

Wylan tilted his head and nodded. 

Inej sighed, “It just doesn’t make any sense. How can all the evidence point to Brekker, but then not point to him all at the same time?”

Wylan shrugged, and ran his hands through his hair, the gesture making him appear younger. It was so easy to forget that Wylan was just a little younger than Inej. He was the youngest forensic expert to ever work in their precinct, and he was a kid genius on top of it all. If things didn’t make any sense to him then something truly wasn’t adding up. 

Inej stared at the glove sitting innocently in an evidence container and tried to iron out the doubts that were sitting restlessly in her mind. Forgetting everything else, if the culprit wasn’t Kaz Brekker, then who would it be? And why go through all the trouble to frame him?

Her thoughts were disrupted as she heard the sliding doors of Wylan’s office slide open.

Matthias appeared with his usual scowl, and Inej suppressed a smile at Wylan’s suddenly straight posture. Wylan would never admit it aloud, but Inej suspected he was still afraid of Matthias.

“The CCTV footage has been sent over.” Matthias told Inej. 

“Great.” She said. “Thanks for all you help, Wy. Let us know if you find anything else.” 

“Will do.” He saluted and turned to face his computer.

“Also,” Inej brought up before she could leave, “Try to lighten up on the coffee.” She gestured to the three empty coffee cups on his otherwise organized desk. It didn’t escape her notice that they all came from Brekker’s Brews. “That stuff will kill you, you know?” 

Wylan blushed a bright red at Inej’s insinuation, but he only offered a nod in acknowledgement. It seems that even if she had told him who was the owner of that particular establishment, it couldn’t quite keep their lab tech away.

“What did Wylan say about the glove?” Matthias said as he sat back on his chair, waiting for the grainy video to hint at any clue that could help them in their case. 

Inej didn’t turn to look at him, but she responded anyway, “He said that it could point to being Brekker’s and could link him to the murder that happened five years ago.”

“But you don’t think it’s him, do you?”

Inej sighed, “I don’t know what I think. I want it to be him. I want the evidence to be nice and clean and I can finally put his ass behind bars. But I’ve been on Brekker’s tail for a long time, and he’s not this sloppy.”

“Everyone makes mistakes.” Matthias responded. And while that was exactly her thought, she just couldn’t get herself to believe it, even if it came from her trusty partner. 

Inej was about to tell him her doubts when a movement happened on screen.

“Okay looks like we got something here.” Matthias said. 

There were two figures that entered the periphery of the camera. One was clearly shorter than the other, but built like a brick wall, while the other had the stature of a football player. Despite the grainy footage, Inej was still able to discern the faint presence of a tattoo on both of their forearms. 

She held her breath as they both looked over their shoulders, clearly looking on the lookout for something. The football player smiled and nudged his friend roughly. The other shook his head and shoved him away. He walked to where the body was found and made another comment to his friend. The shorter man walked off screen, and before the video could continue white static filled the screen.

“What--”

“The wires got cut around there, unfortunately.” Matthias sighed. “This was the only street cam facing the alley, and there was nothing that showed up on the closest street cameras. But did you see those tattoos?”

Inej nodded, “Razorgulls. Do you still have contacts in the gang unit?”

“No need.” He said. “I remember those guys from my gang unit days. They hang around the docks. If we don’t find them there, I know a couple more popular hangs for these guys.”

“Let’s go.”

By the time Matthias and Inej had caught sight of the two figures from the surveillance cameras, they were a little late. It had nothing to do with the fact that they had been scouring the city long enough for the true dark of the night to descend upon them. It had to with the fact that someone had gotten to the two gang bangers first. And that someone was Kaz Brekker. If that wasn’t bad enough, it looked like he was in the middle of beating them to death. 

“Hey! Stop! Police!” Matthias’s deep voice cut through the cries of pain coming from the two men. But it was like he said nothing at all because Brekker used the cane in his hand to swing down on a shin. Inej struggled to prevent her shudder as she heard the distinct sound of bone shattering. 

“I’ve told you all that I know!” The man screamed through his pain.

“I consider myself a good judge of character, Geels, and I know for a fact you’re lying.” Kaz opened his mouth to say something else, but Matthias was almost on him and he growled in frustration, “Looks like we’re going to have to continue this conversation later. That is if you can post bail.” 

Kaz broke for a run just as Matthias got within arms reach, and Inej had to hand it to him, for someone who needed a cane to navigate through the world, he moved faster than shadow. But unfortunately for him, Inej knew she was faster. 

“Matthias arrest those two,” She gestured to the two injured men, “I’ll take Brekker!”

She broke out into a run, and while Kaz had a head start, she would argue she knew this harbor better than anyone. Including Kaz. So when he had turned a left into a row of cargo containers in an attempt to confuse her though the maze of metal boxes, she just smiled to herself and climbed one with practiced ease. It took her almost no time to see his path and even less time for her to sprint and jump and land right on top of him.

His body cushioned her fall, and if her mind wasn’t so preoccupied with the bruise she knows she’s going to have on the knee that took some of the fall, she would have had room to ponder at the heat emanating from him, as well as the way she felt his muscles freeze in what seemed like panic when her hand brushed against the exposed skin of his wrists. 

“Kaz Brekker, you’re under arrest for the assault of two key witnesses in a murder.” Inej grunted reaching around her waist for her handcuffs. 

She waited for his inevitable comeback, but for the first time of ever talking to Kaz Brekker, he was silent. Inej studied him, and noticed the clench in his jaw and the glazed expression in his eyes. She’s arrested her fair share of criminals, and one way or another they had the same panicked, trapped expression. But Brekker wasn’t acting like a trapped criminal, he was a cornered animal that looked like he might pass out at any given moment. 

Is he okay? 

No sooner had she thought it, Matthias materialized at her shoulder breathing heavily.

“Leave it to the great Inej Ghafa to catch the most uncatchable killer.” He said. 

Inej wrenched her mind away from Kaz’s strange behavior and scrambled off of him after securing the metal cuffs.

Matthias grabbed Kaz roughly and had a tight hold on his shoulder.

“Watch his hands, Helvar. He’s a slippery one.” Inej managed, still puzzled by Brekker’s uncharacteristic silence.

Matthias nodded, but Inej’s focus wasn’t on him. She just watched Kaz get led to the police car, pondering the simple fact that the great Kaz Brekker seemed to be having a panic attack.

[ladynightmare913]

Secrets of the Darkened Seas

Welcome to Chapter one! Apologies for the delays but life threw responsibilities. Thank you for your patience and a thank you to my co-author and dear best friend Olivia ( @asunshinepuff​ ), if it wasn’t for her, this story would not exist. 

This chapter includes the OC that my friend Olivia has created and I sincerely hope you like him. Hints of mermaid lore is included within the chapter of different types of merfolk that were inspired by the book “The Secret World of Mermaids” by Francine Rose. We are not taking credit of her work. Now enjoy. 

Chapter 1: The Tail of Fates

The gulls glided across the scorching sky, the sun beating down on the port-men docking the ships that traveled across the sea. The merry drunken men who stumbled their way out of the taverns filled with jolly music made their way to the docks. Wincing at the harsh rays of sunlight, the sweltering heat and humidity offers no reprieve for the men who indulged in the advantages of liquid courage to discard their tasks. Merchants bring in goods from the islands that seemed worlds away to a mere boy at the age of 14. The boy had short tawny brown hair, tanned skin from days working out in the sun, and very bright amber colored eyes which seemed to capture the same essence of the crystallized equivalents of the color. Dressed in a rather modest attire appropriate for his status - consisting of a white long sleeved shirt, the sleeves were rolled up due to the heat, light brown slacks and dark brown boots. Around his waist was a light blue scarf, supposedly what he had been found swaddled in when he was just a babe. He could never find the strength to part with it. The guilt overpowered him. 

“The beauties of the islands lads, best three days of me life mate.”

 “Three days of only looking at the dames.” The sailor snorts a retort as he leans against a pillar on the dock. “ They probably ran off in the other direction just at the mere sight of your pathetic self.” The group of three jolly sailors laughed in merriment as the sailor who was sharing his tale shoved the other two in embarrassment.   

The boy had been sweeping the dock nearby the sailors, rolling his eyes at the stories. It was always the same. Seamen making port and bedding the beauties from the mysterious island that he himself has never traversed. Internally, he began counting the seconds till one of the sailors again made mentions of the maidens of the sea, and as always- it took only a count of ten. 

“I wager the beauties on that port can’t hold a candle to their maidens of the sea.” A sailor with three scars slashed across his face grinned. 

“Oh not this, again,” The first sailor, with a fancy for the beauties, with tattered clothes and blonde hair groaned. “ Bloody hell mate, you say that cursed tale every time. The women of the sea, with a fishes tail.” 

“ Aye, and you’d best heed it.” The sailor with three scars eyes his mates in suspicion. “Lest you never return to land, drowned like a dog and fed to the fishes.”    

“No one has seen those monsters for centuries mate. Let it go. It’s nothing but stories to scare sailors, nothing more.” 

“ No!” The sailor yells. “ I’ve seen them! The war didn’t wipe them out. They were the ones who scarred me face! There ain’t anything like it, to hear the songs of those maidens. You try to pull away, to drown it out with your thoughts, but ya can’t. There is no escape, it invades your minds, pulling you to the sea and into their webbed claws!” He grumbles out as he touches his scarred face tenderly. As if the scars were fresh, open with fresh blood spilling. 

“ You lads wouldn’t stand a chance, I should be at the bottom of the sea, but these maidens be fickle things, they are.” He looks out to the sea, calm waves kissing the shore. “To see one, changes your fate. To hear one’s song, is your doom.” 

The boy paused momentarily as he heard the scarred sailors warning. His thoughts race across his mind before he returns to the present when he’s called. 

“Oi boy!” A man from upon the ship called down, leaning overboard. “Come up here lad! There’s a job I need ye to take care of!”

The boy looked up to the adult man, he couldn’t discern fully from this far away the man’s appearance. The high rays of the sun give the wooden docks a shadow of coverage. He was rather reluctant to leave the cool reprieve, however, it would be worse if he neglected his duties of the port, “Be right there.” 

Walking upon the loading dock to the deck of the rather large ship, it was difficult to fight the urge to look around in a strange awe, even though it’s appearance is rather haggard and beaten. Although he has spent many a day upon ship for moments at a time since beginning his work a few years back, there was a certain mystery behind each ship that entered the ports of this bustling town. Each ship held a story behind its experiences. Each cannon battle, the waters of the seven seas it has traversed, the storms it has survived destruction, treasures it has held and lead its captain’s to discover. 

“Yes sir?” The boy looks up to the bulk of an angry looking man whose face always seemed to have a sneer. Even in his sleep. The bulk of a man was dressed in a shirt that looked two sizes too small, and a tattered grey coat that squeezed the man, fitting his frame with strain as his arms were always pulled back. His pants were faded from black to grey, his boots were old and worn. Smelling like a dead rat. His teeth were ghastly to gaze upon, yellow with brown stains, his breath could probably kill a man. His eyes were a beady black like the sharks that swam in the shallow waters, a bald head with black spots. A pity, he must’ve looked worse as a child. As most children do. He glowers at the scrawny boy before he look away.

“Go search the taverns for this ships’ Captain. We leave at dusk. Blokes probably drunk beyond hell, feeling up the women.” He shakes his head as he waves the boy off with a mere wave of his hand. 

With a nod in confirmation, the boy exited the deck and headed off in search of the tavern so that he may find the Captain of the ship, rather grateful to being away from the rather disgusting first mate. If that bulk of a man looked that haggard, he could only imagine the Captain with a shudder at the thought. In the distance, he could see another ship that seemed to be a practical stark contrast. The masts that were open, were as white as the very clouds that floated in the sky, wooden haul was a rich brown mahogany, the railings were painted gold like the sun. The sailors looked well groomed, their clothes neat and fitted to their frames. 

The boy searched from tavern to tavern, until finally he came across the Buccaneers' Oyster. With a sigh of exasperation, he opens the doors and enters the busy tavern hoping that this time he had finally found the correct one. The tavern was dark with dim lighting from the candles that were scattered about the establishment. The windows were the only source of natural sunlight that seeped into the tavern that reeked of alcohol and vomit. The sounds of clinking glassware and cheers from sailors echo all around, the soft giggling of women sitting on the laps of the drunkest of seamen. Ignoring the commotion, and his disgust at the reeking smells, he makes his way to the main counter where a man was the barkeep. The wall behind was lined with large kegs and the shelves were lined with clean pints.

“Excuse me. Do you happen to know if Captain Barclay is here?” The boy says, raising his voice over the loud cheering of the sailors in their merriment. The bar keeper doesn’t even spare the boy a glance as he simply points to the back of the tavern where a man was sitting, well more falling off his chair than anything, as he smiled stupidly at a lady. The captain in question was a tall lanky man with a hooked nose, horrible teeth, a large mole on the side of his neck, tanned skin and green eyes. His clothes were an absolute mess which could possibly be vomit, or mashed potatoes. The boy was very much hoping for the latter. A white shirt with a red stain, rum possibly, short brown pants and his shoes seemed to have vanished. Hopefully the shoes walked away themselves, saving what little dignity they had and drowned themselves in the sea. The stench dying with them. Or the captain had lost his shoes in a gamble. That seemed more likely. 

Taking a deep breath in preparation, he makes his way over to the back of the tavern so that he could finally fetch the man and get out of this place. The man seemed practically worse close up in person, if that was even possible. “Excuse me? Captain Barclay?” He asks, hoping to gain the drunken Captain’s attention and draw it away from the women. “I was asked to fetch you by your first mate. And bring you back to your ship.” 

               The man makes a small noise of acknowledgment as he turns to look at the deck-boy. His alcohol glazed eyes look over the small boy before he shrugs him off and turns the lady he had in his lanky finger. “Bugger off boy, the adults are talkin.’” His hand waves him off with the pint of rum that sloshed to the ground in his sluggish gestures. “Now where we?” 

“Please sir, let me go. I do not work here. I am merely looking for my fiancé.” A pale soft face young lady pulls her hand to try to free herself from the seaman. Her soft brown curls bouncing as she turns her head to the boy. Her hazel eyes lock eyes with his, her skin pale from her bold green dress. Help me she mouths. 

The boy’s eyes widen a small fraction, trying to figure out a way to help the woman out of her predicament. “Captain. I insist.” He repeats, his tone much more firm and without argument. 

With a sneer the lanky captain looked to the boy before he points at the boy with his pint. Standing up, he was two heads taller than the boy. “Listen boy,” he stumbles closer, the pint in his hands dropping what little rum it had to the floor. “ I spent six months at sea, I ain’t about to let a lass like this slip past me, now run off. Before I beat you.”     

“You chose quite a profession that allows you to be at sea for months at a time, Captain.” He says, looking up at the man “Guess there’s sacrifices to make now isn’t there? And if you actually listened with your ears rather than another part of your body, then you would understand that this lady has no interest in you. And is taken.”

“Why you little rat!” The man grips the boy's collar, forgetting the pint, dropping it to the floor, letting the lady go as he raises his fist. “I’m going to enjoy this.” 

“You’re really going to punch a child mate? How low can you get?” A voice interjects, as a rather handsome young man walks over. The tall young man had short tousled red-brown hair, fetching blue eyes and light tanned skin. Dressed in a black long sleeved shirt, burgundy red long buckled coat with bright red accents, dark brown slacks and black boots. On his left hip, a wide looking sword was sheathed in solid black with gold accents. 

“Who the bloody hell are you? Bugger off!” 

“My name is of no importance. Just let him go.”

“Why the hell would I do that, a good beaten ought to teach about being respectful to his elders!” He looks away and aims for a punch.

The man scoffs, “As if you’re worth giving respect. The boy was just doing his job.” He steps forward and grabs the man’s fist in a hard grip as it nears the boy. “If you want respect, then earn it.” 

“Why you!” The man drops the boy and turns to punch the man who stopped him from giving the boy a lesson.

The man can’t help but roll his eyes with a sigh, “Oh for Heaven’s sake.” The drunk captain isn’t even able to reach him before he retaliates with a punch of his own, knocking the captain out cold. A satisfied grin falls upon his lips. The lady gasps before she quickly runs off after giving the man a quick thank you. The man turns to the boy. 

“Are you alright there boy?” 

The boy nods, looking up to the taller man who intervened. Why did he? He cannot help but wonder. Most people would've just ignored the ruckus and not bat an eye. “I’m alright. Thank you Mr…” 

“Sandoval, Quinn Sandoval. But please just call me Quinn.” He smiles down at the boy. “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you boy now can I?” 

“No, I suppose not.” He replies with a light chuckle, “My name’s Remus. Remus Lupin. It’s nice to meet you, Quinn.”

“Well, Remus, it’s nice to meet you as well.” He looks down to the unconscious captain with an exasperated sigh, lightly kicking his leg. “Best take him back to his ship eh?” He looks at Remus with mirth in his eyes before he walks over to the captain’s head, grabbing ahold one of his arms before pulling him up. “Grab his other arm will you? Let’s take him back to his ship. Although I doubt he will be useful.”  

Remus nods quickly before he walks over to the other side, grabbing ahold of the other arm to help hold him up. “Doubt he will as well, to be frank.”

The pair carry the dunkard back to the docks without much strain. Aside from the occasional bump to the head. They walk up to the ship where the first mate sees them approaching, walking down the loading dock.

“What the bloody hell happened to him? I have been waitin’ here for hours boy!” The bulky man marches to Remus. His face red in anger. 

“Well rather difficult to track down a man with this many taverns in this town isn’t it?” Quinn says in defense, looking down to the unconscious man before continuing an explanation, “Your Captain got himself plastered and in a tavern fight. I had to help the boy carry him back.” He glances to Remus and gives him a conspiratorial wink.

The first mate begrudgingly orders two men from the crew to take the captain onboard. He looks to the boy with a scowl. “What are ye waitin’ for, get back to work!” 

Quinn frowns lightly as he looks to Remus. “You work the docks?” 

Remus fights the urge to flinch at the hard scowl under the first mate’s gaze. He looks to Quinn at his question before nodding. “I do.”

Quinn can only nod once slowly in understanding. He looks to the first mate, then to the docks, then to Remus before he smiles. “ Well not anymore.” 

Remus’ eyes widen as he looks quizzically to the man he had just met. “What?” 

“ What the bloody hell are you talkin’ about.” The first mate growls out.

Quinn ignores the man as he looks over the young boy. “Tell me honestly Remus, would you rather work the docks for men like him, or come with me to my captain’s ship and actually live your life without regrets.” He looks back to the docks and the wrecked ship the bulky man sent the drunk captain to doc. “I know what I’d chose. And it wouldn’t be a life with little to no rewards.” 

Remus looks out to the sea beyond the docked ships, watching the sun’s rays reflect upon the blue waking waters as he contemplates. This man hardly knows him, practically just met him about half an hour ago, and yet he’s offering him a chance to sail? A chance to leave this place? How can someone be this trusting? He looks back to Quinn with a skeptical look, “Why are you offering me this? You hardly know me. I could be a thief for all you know.” 

Quinn smiles. “ Because I like you, you have wit and you clearly are a hard worker. I have a good feeling about you.” He looks to the sea. “ So, what will it be, Remus? A life of servitude, or a life of freedom?” He looks back to Remus.

Remus cannot help but smile in return, “Freedom.”

[eirian-houpe]

Modern Wonders - Chapter 1

...And Into The Fire

Fandom: Once Upon a Time / Alice (TV 2009)

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold

Tags and Warnings: Alternate Universe - In Storybrooke | Cursed (Once Upon a Time), Wonderland, Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Pining, UST, Violence, Psychological Torture, Torture, Exploitation, Revenge, Angst, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Reconciliation

Summary: Revenge, they say, is a dish best served cold, and when Regina casts Rumple's Dark Curse, just a few words here and there creates Storybrooke in a very different place, with a very different atmosphere, and very different issues to deal with. Alliances and enmity permeate the lives of the citizens of Storybrooke, (and beyond), as they tiptoe around the various dangers they face every day. Who is awake? How can they break the curse within a curse? And what of the power struggles rife both within, and outside of Storybrooke itself.

Modern Wonders 1 - ...And Into The Fire.

As bluebirds went it was a pretty piss-poor specimen. That probably had something to do with the fact that it wasn’t a one at all, but at least it was a bird, and it was flying, pretty fast too, almost as if…

The watcher shielded his eyes and looked in the direction the bird had come from. He sighed heavily as he watched the steel banded airship gliding in over the mist-topped mountains, heedless of the tall tree’s he knew were hidden in the mist.  Like some giant, silent, woodlouse, it went, heading for the many towered, many spired city that floated on the lake. He knew what it was, where it was going, and what was contained in the boxes that hung on thick, black metal ropes beneath the belly of the beast.

He shuddered, and counted them under his breath, “…fifteen, sixteen, seventeen…” a good haul. He shuddered again, pitying the poor bastards that were being flown to their mindless bliss.

The bird-that-wasn’t-a-bluebird wheeled in the sky and flew across his field of vision, between him and the airship. He took a breath. “No fucking rainbow either,” he told the sorry creature, but then… no point thinking of rainbows.  This wasn’t Oz. He’d rather be in Oz than here, and for just one second he considered abandoning his mission, tossing down his hat and going…?

“Anywhere but here,” he answered the unasked question in the same low and dangerous voice in which he’d counted - albeit a whisper then, but no. He couldn’t let himself do that. What he had to do was important, might well save so much pain in the long run.

With another sigh, Jefferson dropped his hat back onto his head, and set off along the narrow pathway toward the docks with a determined stride.

**

The Enchanted Forest - many years ago

He looked behind him to check that he wasn’t being followed, then Jefferson tossed back the tails of his borrowed coat before stepping into the shadows between two of the buildings that framed the marketplace. He knew better than to call out; draw attention to the two of them now in the gathering darkness. Instead he melted against the wall hiding even his tall frame from sight until a figure detached itself from the darkness nearby.

“You took your time,” the voice attached to the figure said. “Trouble?”

Jefferson scoffed. “It’s because I took my time that there was no trouble,” he said, and from the deep pocket of his coat he drew the article of jewelery - stolen of course, and of immense value - that had once belonged to the daughter of a local nobleman, and handed it over to the man still half hidden in the shadows.

The man turned it this way and that, and whistled softly, before casually tossing a purse full of coins in Jefferson’s direction. He caught it deftly, and then moved his coat carefully to one side while he affixed the pouch to his belt before covering it with his tailcoat again.

He nodded to the shadowy figure and asked, “Anything else?”

“I’ll be in touch.” The answer melted into the shadows again, as if fading away on a breeze.

Jefferson took a deep breath, ready to head home, a smile coming to his face as he thought of his beautiful wife. It was enough to put a spring into any man’s step.

“You really should take more care of your things.”

The almost playful, sing-song, impish voice sounded from the mouth of the alley, and with his heart in his mouth, beating hard enough to choke him, the thief spun around, pulling the knife from his boot, he brandished it toward the direction of the voice.

The man on whom he laid eyes was twirling the purse the fence had given to him in return for the stolen necklace. Jefferson’s free hand fly to his waist, finding, indeed, that the purse was missing, The other man was small and almost as flamboyantly dressed as he himself. The hair around the man’s face - at least he thought it was a man - was unruly, wavy, and he had a face covered with scales that sparkled in the light it caught from what remained of the fading daylight. It was his eyes, though, that captured Jefferson, and put apprehension in his racing heart.

The man raised an arm and pointed at him with a finger so clawed it looked more like some kind of beastly talon, and his face creased into an amused sneer.

“What do you expect to do with that toothpick?” he said, and before Jefferson could answer swirled his already raised hand as if trying to attract the scent of a good meal.

Jefferson’s head snapped one way and then the other, watching in mounting fear as the purple fog whorled first around his ankles, then his legs, and torso, before finally engulfing him, obscuring the world from sight.

When the mist cleared, Jefferson found himself standing in what looked like the great hall of some grand castle.

**

Decades of apparating from place to place gave Rumplestiltskin the advantage. He was not disoriented when the great hall of the Dark Castle came suddenly into view, and as such he was moving before the man he had brought with him had stopped swiveling his head from one side to the other as if it were on a stick.

He’d been watching the thief, he had come to know was called Jefferson, for some time, impressed by the man’s skill in appropriating what was not his to take; his ability to find his way into, and safely out of, hard to reach places. To see him so unsettled, like this, struck him as highly entertaining.

Amused, he set the man’s dagger down on top of the long table that graced the center of the room, and began to walk toward the fireplace, igniting a warming fire with the wave of a hand as he did so, and dropping himself into a large armchair that also appeared in the same moment - one of two, separated by a circular table bearing a silver tray with a tea pot and tea service upon it.

“Well, don’t just stand there gawping,” he almost sang in a teasing voice. “Come. Sit. We have things to discuss.”

“But you…” Jefferson’s stupor seemed to ease, but gave way to a stuttering address. “You’re… you’re the dark one!”

“Yes, yes…” Rumplestiltskin waved a hand as if it bored him to consider it, then added, with far more intrigue, “and you’re about to become… a very fortunate man.”

He gestured again toward the vacant chair as her made himself more comfortable and crossed his legs, raising an eyebrow at the master thief.

“There’s… nothing I need,” Jefferson answered, though, Rumplestiltskin noted, he did move toward the chair. “I know the danger in making deals with you.”

Rumplestiltskin opened his mouth in a very wide, but silent, ‘oh’ as though offended, placing a hand over his chest, and then almost sorrowfully said, in a plummy kind of voice “You wound me, Sir!” Then, as Jefferson lowered himself gingerly onto the edge of the seat, seemingly ready to bolt at the slightest cause, leaned forward and in a nasally, confidential voice added, “Besides, what I have in mind is more of a, uh… business proposal.”

“Business proposal?”

“Yes,” he answered, drawing out the word and, with a snap of his fingers, filled the pot with steaming, fragrant tea. He took the time to pour the tea into the two matching blue and white cups, before fixing Jefferson with a level stare as he held out one of the cups, on its matching saucer, in his direction. “You know - I pay you to do something for me. All business. Much like your friend out there.”

He could feel the man was doubtful in the way he took the saucer - hesitant and carefully. “If I already have an employer,” Jefferson’s voice was full of resentment as he named the man from the alley as such, “why would I want, or need another one?”

“Because, Dearie,” Rumplestiltskin sat back in his chair, cup held delicately between finger and thumb of his right hand, and with his left he tossed a pouch that was easily three times heavier than when he had appropriated it from Jefferson’s belt, toward his guest. Jefferson caught, without even spilling a drop of his tea. Rumplestiltskin pointed a scaly finger at Jefferson as the man looked up at him in surprise. “I pay better.”

He waited, sipping his tea and watching out of the corner of his eye as the obviously astounded man unfastened the pouch and peeked inside; completely vulgar to do so in front of a client, but Rumplestiltskin could forgive him that - so long as he got what he wanted.

“Consider it a down payment,” he suggested, drawing Jefferson’s attention back to his face.

“All right,” Jefferson said cautiously. “What is it that you want me to do?”

In lieu of an answer, Rumplestiltskin looked him up and down, before declaring, “You know what you need with an outfit like that?” Jefferson merely frowned in confusion, so Rumplestiltskin told him anyway - summoning the item in question from up in his work room with a simple thought, before holding it out in Jefferson’s direction as he said, “A hat.”

**

Present Day - Wonderland

Light and sound, mechanical jangles, and the call of voices made a sensory cacophony around her, and yet she felt unnaturally still and calm amid it all. It didn’t feel right, and the part of her mind that still remained insulated from the otherworldly state in which she found herself, shrank away from the uncomfortable dissonance.

She looked down at her hand, and the chips held tightly in it, her knuckles white. They weren’t supposed to be that white. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way, so tense, so confused.

“So… wrong,” she whispered under her breath.

“What was that, love…?” The croupier in front of her asked, and she looked up at to see the frown on his face. That drew a frown to her own. There weren’t supposed to be frowns in this place. She looked around herself, at all of the people standing by slot machines, and card tables… the game with the dice - craps, she remembered it was called - and the others at the Roulette wheel beside and opposite her.  Everyone was smiling.  Everyone’s face was full of bliss.

“Nothing, I…” she spoke with the same confusion, the same vague awareness that made her suddenly look down at her feet - her bare feet.

“…Malcolm at table three,” the sound of the croupier’s voice made her look up again - why are my feet naked? Where are my shoes? - “We’ve got another one.”

He was speaking into what looked like a black, legless insect attached to the front of his jacket, on his lapel, nearby to the pocket that was adorned with the red heart symbol.

“No, no, no,” she said quickly. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“That’s what they all say, dear,” he answered, not at all kindly, as she started almost frantically looking around herself. Dear… not enough, something more.

She stopped suddenly, a new frown coming to her face. “But I was coming back… coming to…” as she spoke a door behind her opened, and two men marched through. They were dressed in crisp white uniforms of some kind - pants and a long smock. They took her arms and she fought them, repeating, “No… No, but I was coming back!” Though she couldn’t remember to where or why.

“Yes, coming back,” one of the two men crooned as they began to drag her back toward the door, “It will all be all right.”

“The usual?” one man said to the other.

“That’ll be right,” he answered. “Up her dose a little bit, and then let her rest in solitary for a few days. She’ll soon be fit to get back to the casino floor.”

“Please, I was coming back!” she insisted, and as she tried to catch hold of the door frame to prevent herself from being dragged away, she opened her hand, spilling her red and blue chips everywhere, watching in horrible fascination as they fell toward the hard floor.

She flinched, words of apology tumbling from her as the vision of a falling teacup replaced the chips from her hand.

”I’m so sorry,” she stammered,” but uh…  it’s… it’s chipped.” She held up the cup in her hand, assuring, “You… you can hardly see it.”

“It’s just a cup,” Belle whispered, not knowing where the words came from, as the men succeeded in dragging her through the door and away.

**

Jefferson looked first one way and then the other as he stood against the wall beside the ramshackle looking entrance that was, he thought sarcastically, the perfect design for the entrance to a thriving casino. He shuddered then. Not the kind of place he’d want to, or would - under normal circumstances -  be trying to break into. He only hoped his contact on the inside wasn’t going to let him down.

He never could tell in this gods forsaken realm.

He reached out, and with the side of his fist hammered once, twice, three times on the seemingly broken down door, which after a moment opened to reveal a small head darting back and forth as its owner looked around, before grabbing a hold of Jefferson by the arm and dragging him inside.

“You have to hurry,” the twitchy little man told him, holding out a smock and a pair of shoes.

“Hurry why?” Jefferson asked darkly. “What’s going on?”

“Couple of days ago, she started a kerfuffle on the casino floor. Roulette croupier, Malcolm reported her and they took her away for treatment. She was raving about… coming back, or something.”

Jefferson swore softly, slipping out of his coat which he rolled into a ball, and placed into a hollow space in the base board of the room, before pulling on the white smock over his otherwise flamboyant clothing. The shoes he carried in his hand and followed the little cockroach as he scurried along the corridor leading the way, and then, when he stopped, Jefferson strode on past and kept walking as though he belonged.

He reached the desk, beyond which he could see the doors to several rooms - rooms he knew to be ones of confinement - and smiled at the stern looking woman behind the desk, waiting for his accomplice to begin the agreed upon fuss. The woman did not return his smile.

Counting under his breath, he tried to come up with something to head off any suspicion the woman might have if he just stood there waiting, just as tension began to pick at the base of his neck, the little weasel came through with his much needed diversionary trick.

“What in the name of—”

The woman got up from her chair, and started toward the side of the desk, to come around, but Jefferson held up a hand.

“Don’t trouble yourself,” he said. “They warned they might have to bring someone down here today. Some woman fussing about her boy she thinks she lost.”

“I better prepare the paperwork then, I suppose,” she huffed. She turned away from Jefferson, to a file cabinet in the corner that held up a spindly looking tree in a planter. He let her continue long enough to pull the small vial he’d palmed when he took off his own coat, and slipped beneath the cuff of his shirt.

The cursive on the label read, ”bliss” and he wasted no time in sipping its content into the woman’s tea cup.

“I don’t think you need to rush,” Jefferson said as the noise continued. “Seems to be taking them some time to bring her along.” He gave her another smile as she turned back. “I’m sure you’ll have time to… finish your drink while it’s still warm.”

As if he had reminded her, she picked up the cup and took a large swig, lowering herself into her chair as she did.

“And you,” she snapped.  “What are you doing down here?”

“Me?” Jefferson asked, as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. He watched as the woman’s face began to go slack… as the bottled bliss slowly took hold. “Oh, I take it you haven’t heard about me then… shame…”

The woman didn’t respond. Her eyes glazed, seeing far into the distance of her imagination, ignorant of the world around her. Jefferson reached across the desk for her keys, picked up her overcoat from where it hung over the side of her workstation, and then as he passed her, leaned down to almost whisper in her ear with low menace, “Didn’t you know… Hatter knows best.”

**

The ‘medicine’ they gave to Belle did not take away the dissonance - the very real belief that something was not right in the world.  That she shouldn’t be there.  That she didn’t belong.  All it did was make her groggy, and insensible… numb.

She didn’t even look up when the door opened, at least not for several seconds, several heartbeats. Not until she sensed the movement in the doorway; realized the shape of her visitor was not the same as that of her jailer, did she raise her head to see the weirdly familiar, unfamiliar man standing on the threshold of her cell with his hand extended to her.

“Come with me,” he said, and his voice was soft and in a strange, vague kind of way, also familiar.

“Who are you?” she asked, confusion in every cell of her being.

“My name is Jefferson,” he said. “And I need your help to do something that I can’t.”