#he shows up unannounced in miles bedroom and makes a bit of trouble in the morales household. just like ikuto

[slingerapen]

Hobie is so lone wolf/street cat anime boy

[girls4keigo]

A Bird Whisperer’s Guide to Fighting Villains and Falling in Love | Hawks x Hero!Reader

Summary: Hawks needs help to defeat an upcoming hero attack in Tokyo. What better hero to ask than the one he’s been crushing on for months

Warnings: F!Reader, Hero!Reader, Fluff, Cursing

Reader plays hard to get. Reader has a nature quirk and can control natural elements and talk to animals. Reader is a popular hero

a/n: hi! this is my first post i hope you all enjoy! :)

————

You sighed, trying to keep your composure while talking to a bunch of big name heroes. The fundraiser events that your agency made you go to were unbearable. Standing around for hours listening to the most mundane heroes try to impress you with their line of work. But hey, if it helps boost approval ratings I guess it’s not that bad.

For the past year you’ve slowly been climbing the ranks of the hero world. With a powerful quirk and unique fighting styles it was hard to go unnoticed. By now you were familiar with how the industry treated female heroes. It seemed as if the general public cared about anything but your hero duties.

It was all love, relationships, “Who are you dating?”, “What’s your skincare routine?”

You honestly didn’t expect any different but geez, it sure did piss you off. And now that you were in the top 3, you weren’t expecting any of it to die down. Might as well just get used to it.

You continued to chat when suddenly your ear twitched as you sensed a certain birdie approaching.

Oh God.

“Hey. Mind if I steal ya away for a little?” Hawks’ signature smirk appeared on his face as he approached you.

Hawks seemed to really be latching onto you for quite some time, well since the new hero rankings were announced. You were on your way to surpassing the number 2 hero and had gained a lot of notoriety in the past couple of months. 

He was clingy for sure, always play flirting, inviting you to lunch, showing up at your agency unannounced. It was obvious that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. You’d be surprised if he admitted to actually having feelings for you. Well, not that you cared anyways. Your job was to save civilians, defeat villains, and do things that any other normal hero would. Love was simply not on your agenda.

Holding back a heavy sigh, you complied and stepped off to the side with Hawks.

He seemed delighted by your decision, using his feathers to fetch you a glass of champagne off of one of the caterer’s trays as you two walked over to the bar area.

“So your agency makes you come to these lame things too, huh?”

You didn’t answer, not very interested in the direction that the conversation was going in.

“You look nice.” He bit his lower lip, dragging his eyes vertically across your figure.

“Thank you.” You replied, taking a sip of your champagne.

After you both had made your way over to the bar he instructed his order to the bartender, asking you if you wanted anything and keeping the same dumb smirk on his face when you denied.

“Rarely ever see you in a color other than green. I mean, I guess it’s your entire thing but I really dig this red look you’ve got goin’ on” He mused, as he watched the bartender carefully make his drink.

He wasn’t lying. He’s been eyeing you since you walked in, you look good.

“What do you want, Hawks?” You asked, visibly annoyed.

“Damn.” He chuckled, “Small talk isn’t your thing, noted.”

You side-eyed him, getting impatient with his overly relaxed demeanor.

Catching the hint, he got straight to the point. “There’s some trouble going on in Tokyo.”

Now you were intrigued. You took another sip of your champagne, “Petty villain attacks like always, isn’t it?”

You turned towards him, he got a good look at your face before he answered.

Fucking pretty, he thought to himself.

“That’s what I thought at first but it’s getting harder to believe that as I do more digging.” He looks around before inching closer to you, trying to keep his volume to a minimum. “The League is planning something big next week. The ‘Rain of Terror’, they’re callin’ it. They’re trying to ease the amount of big attacks in the city to let our gaurds down. And frankly, I think it’s working.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “How do you know all of this?”

“I’ve got connections,” Was all he said, with a shrug.

Ok, whatever. You’ll confront him about that later. “And this ‘Rain of Terror…’ what does it entail?”

“Bombs.”

“Shit,” You muttered.

“Big ones. Huge ones, actually. I don’t know how the fuckers did it but they found a way to make these huge, bioengineered clouds that ‘rain’ bombs.”

You grew uneasy. Raining bombs? Over the entirety of Tokyo? The amount of destruction it would do to the earth, to civilians, made you panic. Hawks sensed your uneasiness but continued anyways, “I want us to team up. Your quirk would be useful with the entire controlling nature n’ weather thing.”

He loosened up from his serious expression, talking a bit louder and showing a teethy smile, “Plus I think we’d make a pretty good team. I’ve already got a plan so we’ll meet up at yours tomorrow.”

“As in my house? Why not anywhere else?” You questioned.

“Well,” He grabbed his drink and used his free hand to rub the back of his heck, “This isn’t really the typa thing we can talk about in public. Mass hysteria, panic, that type of thing. And my living situation is pretty…complicated right now.”

You felt a small tap on your shoulder, followed by the voice of your high school aged sidekick. You turned to the younger hero. “Uh..Y/N? It’s time to go. I gotta be back by 11.”

You sighed before turning back to Hawks.

“Kids and their curfews, right?” He commented.

“Fine. I’ll have my agency send you my address. Don’t come during the day.” That was the last thing you said before finishing your drink all in one quick sip and making your way to the exit. You could feel his eyes on your backside until you left the venue. And the singular scarlet feather rushing in front of you to open the car door for you was really the cherry on top.

You rolled your eyes.

“Woah.” Your sidekick mused, “He seems to really like you. You should give him a chance, he’s hot.”

You giggled at her comment, “He doesn’t really like me, y’know? He flirts with every female hero.”

—

You heard a slight tap on the window leading up to your balcony. You already sensed him flying towards you when he was about a mile away, but your bedroom? Reluctantly you walked over and opened the sliding door.

“Never heard of a front door?”

“Well that’s no fun, is it?” He said, displaying his signature smirk. You looked cute out of your hero clothes. Hair tied up and messy, and in big comfy clothes.

Adorable, he thought to himself. He walked in as if it was his own befroom, slipping off his shoes, gloves and jacket and placing them in the corner of your room.

“Make yourself comfortable I guess.” You deadpanned at him, “And we’re still going downstairs anyways.” He shrugged.

He couldn’t help but be taken aback by the layout of your room. There were plants in almost every corner, on every shelf. Vines growing on your walls, half read books strewn across your bedside table and dresser, your pet birds of all different shaped and sizes flew freely around your room, chirping every once in a while. “So you’re a bird whisperer, huh?” He said, looking around.

“I’m an animal whisperer.” You said, “That’s kind of like my entire thing.”

He let out a hearty laugh before making his way out of your room.

“Tea?” You asked, heading towards the kitchen as the winged hero made himself comfortable on your couch.

“Sure.” He picked up your remote with one his feathers, flicking through the channels.

He turned his attention to you a couple moments later as you took a seat across from him at your coffee table, setting down two mugs of green tea.

He explained his plan carefully, paying close attention to all details and pausing for any questions you might have. You had to admit, as much as an annoying asshole this guy could be, he knew what he was doing. You could tell he plans his strategies very carefully, as much as he likes to come off as lazy and laid back to the general public. He was a damn good hero. And you hated admitting it but he was right, utlizing his speed and your ability to control weather, it wouldn’t be all that hard to stop villain attacks.

Hawks also couldn’t help but admire you. You seemed attentive, always paying close attention to detail and asking a lot of questions. I mean he already knew you were good at your job, watching some of the viral videos of your fights with villains.

—

When the day finally came, it went as smoothly as planned, of course with a little bumps along the way. Still, the few civilians that were hurt only had minor injuries, and you and hawks made it so only a couple bombs hit the ground.

You, Hawks, and some other minor heroes who had joined mid-battle regrouped to talk about how to resolve the collateral damage.

“It’s not too much to be honest, I’ll have it all repaired by midni-“

“Wow! What an incredible display of courage from Hawks and Mother Nature, currently sitting at number 2 and number 3 of Japan’s Hero BillBoard Chart!” A loud reporter exclaimed, accompanied by a camera crew.

Of course.

You tried your best to ignore and keep talking to fellow heroes until a microphone was shoved in your face. The face of the reporter gleamed as she talked to you. “Tell me Mother Nature, how does it feel working with number 2 hero Hawks?” You winced at the question, but answered nevertheless.

“Hawks is a  diligent hero with a lot of experience under his belt despite being so young. It was great working with him.” You answered, forcing a smile on your face.

“There’s speculation that you two planned this together..is this true? How were you able to predict this attack? More importantly, are you two dating?” Those questions hit you like a truck.

“Um..no comment.” Was all you could answer with.

Nevertheless, the reporter persisted, “Well there has to be something going on. It’s just my opinion but you two seem perfect for each other.” She giggled at the camera, “Please! The public is dying to know!”

Before you could even muster up an answer to the reporter’s overwhelming question, a giant scarlet wing came between you and the reporter, blinding both her and the camera from your view.

“Hey. She said she doesn’t wanna talk about it. Let’s respect personal boundaries, yeah?” Hawks said in a nice but slightly defensive tone.

You blushed, looking up at him. As nice we he was trying to sound, he looked angry. And damn right he was. How dare they talk to you like you’re no more than just some D-list celebrity? You’re a fucking hero, who cares about dating speculation when you just saved Japan’s largest city? And how dare they ask questions about him when you were the one doing most of the work. He was enraged, and it was his natural instinct to protect the thing he cared for.

Before you knew it, he latched his arms around your waist, pushing you into his chest.

You were flustered. “What are you-“

“Let’s go.” Was all he said before flapping his wings, sending you guys soaring through the air.

You held on to him for dear life, damn was he fast.

Hawks smirked to himself, feeling your rapid heartbeat against his chest. You were trying your best to hide your blushing by burying your face in his neck, granted that probably made it worse because he could already tell by how hot your face was.

God, she’s adorable

As soon as you two landed on top of a building, you pushed him away as quickly as possible.

He chuckled, putting both of his hands up in defense, “You’re the one making this awkward y’know? Plus you owe me for saving your ass.”

You were angry. Was it because of the downright rude questions that the reporter asked you not too long ago, was it because you knew tabloids would be posting all about you and Hawks for the next couple of days, was it because you were..warming up to that damned bird?

And then you started. “Just so you know, this..us..is not a thing. It will never be a thing. I wish you’d just stop flirting with me all the damn time. Just move on to the next female hero. I actually don’t care what you do. Just leave me alone. I don’t understand why you have to be so clingy, it’s annoying.”

Hawks did nothing but smile, listening to you ramble.

“You know…I-“ He interjected, only to be interrupted by you.

“And geez, you’re so goddamn entitled. I owe you? I don’t owe you anything. I didn’t even need your help. You’re no different from any other guy, you’re fucking insuffer-“

Hawks shut you up with a gentle kiss on your lips.

Oh.

“You talk too much.” He said in a low whisper, before pulling on your chin to kiss you again. You kissed him back, resting your hands on his chest, completely indulging in the moment.

Fuck. Your knees were weak. As much as you wanted to keep going you pulled away, blushing furiously and refusing to make eye contact with him.

“Oh? So now you’re shy?” He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. He tried to catch your gaze but you just moved your head away from him each time.

“Someone might see us. This is bad,” You were able to muster out.

“You’re so fucking cute.” He said, making you blush even more. He continued, “I don’t flirt with you for no reason, y’know? Sure, sometimes it’s just to tease..but I think you’re amazing.”

You felt like you were melting in his arms. Unable to find the right words, you panicked. You were gone in seconds, manipulating the wind so it could carry you back home, the same stupid blush unable to leave your face.

“Call me!” He yelled.

That damn bird.

[allmidaddies]

woke up in 3.

“Do we like this one?” You asked, spinning around and showing Mat the dress you had just wiggled yourself into. He locked his phone, tossing it to the side as he allowed himself to drink in your appearance. You’d drug him along to help you get a dress for the wedding on the upcoming weekend. After sorting through all of the other dresses you had hanging in your closet you couldn’t quite find the right one for the weekend ahead.

 In all honesty, you didn’t think any of them were going to get the attention of Mat.

 After Jasmine had introduced you to her friend, whose name you couldn’t even remember anymore, you had texted for a few days until it became so dry and forced that you simply stopped responding. Sure you felt a little bit guilty but one word answers weren’t exactly giving you the eager energy you had been hoping for. Even Mat sent you longer messages and he was a hockey player, a group notorious for being dry as all hell.

 So now it was back to square one. You had nothing going for you in terms of your love life and with another wedding on the horizon you wanted to at least make one person drool. And if Mat was that person...well then….so be it.

 “Y/N,” Mat sighed, leaning back against the wall, “I have liked every dress you’ve come out in.”

 This was true, he told you you looked good in everything. In some ways that made him the worst person to shop with because you couldn’t ever tell if he was being honest or just stroking your ego. But sometimes you needed your ego stroked, especially now.

 “Okayyyy,” you rolled your eyes, hands on your hips, “But is this your favorite?”

 “Eh,” Mat shrugged, “It looks good on you but you don’t look comfortable.”

 You turned back to look at the mirror. It was incredibly tight and to be honest it was hard to walk in it. If you had to wear it for an entire evening you weren’t sure you’d survive.

 “I don’t think you should get it, unless you want me to throw you over my shoulder and carry you around all evening,” Mat laughed. Maybe I do, you thought to yourself, an inappropriate image of Mat carrying you over his shoulder into his childhood bedroom before tossing you onto the bed flashing through your mind.

 “I don’t think you have the stamina for that,” you teased, stepping back into the fitting room and pulling the curtain back.

 “Hey,” Mat whined, “I have amazing stamina. You of all people should know this.”

 Just as the words left his mouth a woman, probably the age of his mom, came walking down the hall in search of an open room. She raised her eyebrows at him and he felt his cheeks flush. That definitely sounded sexual. He had been referring to hockey but now his mind was beginning to wander elsewhere.

 After the mini argument the night of the wedding, Mat had refrained from asking questions about your love life. He figured that it was better for both of you that way. You had told him that you and the guy had stopped talking since then but other than that he had no idea if you were entertaining anyone else. As long as he was still on duty to be your date to your cousin’s wedding that weekend he would take that as a no.

 Otherwise, things were the same as they had always been. You hadn’t really talked about the argument at all and so Mat figured that either you didn’t remember or didn’t want to talk about it. Usually if something bothered you, you would let him know. When you showed up at his house unannounced a few days after the wedding, wanting to tan in his yard (because it was “better” than your own backyard), he could only assume things were fine. And now he was sitting on a hard bench, watching you try on dresses and he was actually enjoying it.

 You pulled the curtain back, revealing the next dress to Mat. As soon as his eyes landed on your figure he let out a low whistle.

 “We like this one,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. You beamed down at him, smoothing your hands over the material,

 “Is it too short for a wedding?”

 Mat shrugged,

 “I mean your legs look a mile long but I don’t think it’s too short. Those workouts I sent you have been doing you good.”

 You scoffed, poking your tongue out at him. You looked in the mirror, admiring your reflection and trying not to fixate on how good you and Mat would look together when he was in his suit.

 Mat stood up and stepped up behind you, hands ghosting over your waist,

 “This one is my favorite.”

 “Yeah?” You craned your neck to smile up at him. Mat nodded, unable to resist grinning down at you. At that moment, the woman from earlier came out of her fitting room and caught a glimpse of you in the dress.

 “Oh my gosh, that dress is so beautiful on you,” she complimented. Mat spoke without even thinking,

 “Isn’t it?”

 Your face felt warm and you subconsciously leaned into Mat’s touch.

 “You guys are so cute together, you’re a lucky man,” the woman smiled, pointing a finger at Mat, who was now fully blushing, both from his slip and the woman’s comment.

 “Oh-” Mat began to correct her but you curled your fingers around Mat’s wrist and smiled up at the woman,

 “Thank you.”

 Mat gave you a curious look, confused why you didn’t correct her like you normally did. You were too busy admiring the dress to catch his eye so he let it go. Instead he leaned against the wall of the fitting room and ran his eyes over your body.

 “Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, snapping him into reality.

 “You look really pretty, I think you should get this one,” Mat said, carefully dodging your question.

 “Yeah?”

 “If you don’t I’m gonna buy it for you,” Mat said.

 “Suddenly you’re my sugar daddy,” you teased, reaching for the curtain and pulling it shut. Mat’s eyes went wide,

 “Wha-”

 “Chill, I’m just changing,” you laughed, “It’s not like you haven’t already seen me naked.”

 The sinful image of you popped back into Mat’s mind as you drug the zipper of your dress down and shimmied out of it. Your back was to him but out of the corner of his eye he could see your reflection in the mirror.

 He forced himself to keep talking, anything to distract,

 “So whose wedding is this weekend?”

 “My cousin,” you sighed, now only in your panties in front of him as you searched for your bra, “And her awful fiance. He’s such a dick, but at least it’s not me who has to marry him.”

 Mat laughed, though it came out slightly strangled as you finally turned to face him again.

 “What do you want to do for lunch?” You asked.

 You look particularly appetizing, Mat thought to himself, suppressing a groan.

 “Whatever you want,” Mat shrugged, breathing a sigh of relief when you zipped up your denim shorts and reached for your bag, now fully clothed again.

 “Oh, you think because you picked my dress you’re done making decisions for the day?” You teased, pushing the curtain back again.

 Mat laughed, hands on your waist as he followed behind you out of the fitting room,

 “Yeah I’m maxed out, try again tomorrow.”

 ~

 The night before you and Mat were going to the wedding, Jasmine was over at your house, watching you paint your toes.

 “I’m doing my toes tomorrow because I know I’ll get them smudged in bed tonight,” she groaned, resting against the pillows on your bed.

 “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear the innuendo in that,” you laughed, looking back at her over your shoulder.

 “That’s not what I meant, but yeah that too. Newlywed sex is objectively the best sex,” she sighed. You snorted, shifting to face her as you finished your last coat.

 “So how soon until you two start having babies?” You asked, wiggling your eyebrows at her.

 “I don’t know,” Jasmine sat up, “We’re still not a hundred percent sure if we want kids and I think if we did we’d adopt.”

 You nodded, remembering that Jasmine had always said she wanted to adopt. Suddenly, the memory of making your pact with Mat came flooding into your mind.

 “What?” Jasmine stared at you, “Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

 “I just-” you shook your head,  “I just remembered something.”

 Jasmine looked at you curiously, making herself comfortable again,

 “Go on.”

 You took a deep breath,

 “The night before your wedding-”

 “You and Mat did fuck I knew it!” Jasmine shrieked.

 “Dude! No!” You panicked, looking towards the door. Your parents weren’t even home but it sent a rush of adrenaline through your veins.

 “No,” you said more calmly, “We didn’t...do that. But, he did say something kind of related to that.”

 Jasmine urged you to continue.

 “He said,” you spoke slowly, unable to believe you were saying it out loud, “That he wouldn’t mind putting a baby in me.”

 Jasmine’s jaw dropped and she couldn’t do anything but stare at you,

 “You’re kidding.”

 You shook your head, putting the cap back on the polish.

 “In what context? How-I mean, what-how did that even come up?” She asked, grabbing a pillow and picking at it nervously.

 “We-” you paused, wondering if you should say anything to her about the marriage pact, “I don’t know we were talking about whether we wanted kids. I said he’d be a good dad.”

 “And his...his response was that he would put a baby in you?” Jasmine said slowly, “He could have just said you would make a good mom but he went there!”

 “He did say I would be a good mom!” You defended. Jasmine rolled her eyes,

 “But he’s basically saying that he wants you to mother his children. I.e, he’s in love with you.”

 “Don’t be so dramatic,” you said weakly, resting back on your elbows as you let your feet hang off the end of your bed to dry.

 “How can I not be dramatic about this?” Jasmine waved her hands aimlessly, “I don’t understand how you’re so calm about this.”

 “Because,” you sighed, “I’m used to Mat making comments like that and not having them mean anything. Just once I’d like to know if he’s saying things to make me laugh or if he’s saying it because it’s true.”

 ~

 Mat had trouble keeping his eyes on the road the next afternoon as the two of you made the drive out to the wedding venue. The hem of your dress was sliding up your thighs as you continuously crossed and uncrossed them. Your elbow was resting against the center console of Mat’s car and it was taking everything in him to not reach over and place a hand on your thigh. You felt so close yet so far away as you added songs onto the queue.

 “You know it’s only a thirty minute drive, right?” Mat teased after you finally set your phone back down again, a song coming through the speakers.

 “Yes and I don’t want to spend any of it listening to you talk about golf,” you said, leaning back in your seat and out of his reach.

 “You love golf,” Mat protested.

 “I like going golfing with you, I do not love golf,” you corrected. Mat smiled to himself, feeling slightly proud that you only enjoyed it because of him.

 “Don’t look so smug,” you smacked his arm gently, “I only like going with you because you hit the balls in the water half the time.”

 “Hey!”

 You smiled victoriously, reaching over and turning up the radio for the remainder of the drive.

 Something felt different between the two of you as you paraded around the cocktail hour. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it but it had to do with the way Mat hardly left your side at all. His hand was pressed against your lower back like it was magnetically attached and you couldn’t pull away. Not that you wanted to. You were melting under his touch, more so than usual. Maybe it was because your family was there and everything just seemed to fit so well. Mat was talking to your dad about the upcoming season, with your mom about the next hike he wanted to take you on. You even overheard him inviting her to come along while you were listening to your aunt talk about your cousin.  

 You caught yourself staring up at him more than once during the afternoon, admiring the way his hair looked and how rested he looked. Towards the end of the season he had been run down and exhausted, as everyone else in the league was after a long season. Now that he was back in Vancouver you selfishly wished that he would get offersheeted so that he could come home. What you didn’t know was that he felt recharged whenever he was around you. He smiled more, which was saying a lot because he already seemed to be a constant ray of sunshine even in New York, he slept better, he felt calmer. That mixed with all of the summer sun and r&r the two of you had been indulging in had him looking like a dream. The icing on the cake was the dress shirt and well fitting, navy slacks he was wearing.

 The wedding was a bit more casual so he hadn’t even bothered with a tie or a jacket, opting to roll his sleeves and expose his toned forearms. You hadn’t even realized you had zoned in on his hands as he talked animatedly with your parents until he was snapping you from your trance.

 “Anyone home?” He teased, a concerned expression flashing over his features before he smiled easily, hand finding your back once again.

 “Sorry, I think the wine is going straight to my head,” you waved him off, leaning into him more. You could feel your mom’s eyes on you, knowingly grinning between you and Mat.

 “We should probably go find our seats,” Mat said, repeating what he’d apparently been trying to tell you while your head had been up in space. You nodded, letting him guide you towards the grassy area where the chairs were set up.

 “Mat,” you whispered, gripping his arm, “My heels are sinking.”

 Mat couldn’t help but laugh when he looked back to see you tip toeing across the soft ground.

 “Do you need me to carry you?” he asked, teasingly and not at all serious but when he saw the desperate look in your eyes he groaned.

 “You’re kidding,” Mat laughed, shaking his head and stepping closer to you.

 “Fine,” you pouted, “I’ll ruin my heels, it’s fine.”

 Mat rolled his eyes, swooping you u easily, careful not to let you flash anyone.

 “Mat!” You shrieked, not having expected him to actually pick you up. Your hands gripped the back of his neck and the way his fingers were digging into your thighs was having dirty thoughts running through your mind.

 “You know, I could have just gotten you a new pair,” Mat murmured as he set you down in your seat.

 “Mmm,” you hummed, smirking up at him, “I think you like carrying me around though.”

 Your tone was light and joking but Mat’s expression faltered ever so slightly before he managed to chirp you back,

 “And I think you like having me carry you around, princess.”

 Your heart jumped at the pet name, one he hadn’t called you in a long time. Not since high school at least. It used to be his favorite way to tease you.

 “Maybe I do,” you said softly, turning your attention to your mom, who had taken the seat beside you. Mat swallowed hard, the memory of your half asleep confession flooding through his mind. Why those three words had trigged the memory of those other three words he didn’t know. The sound of you mumbling ‘I love you’ echoed through his brain like you were speaking into a chasm. It made his chest feel tight all of a sudden, a feeling he had never experienced before, and a wave of panic shot through him.

 “I’ll be right back,” Mat muttered, standing up and all but running from his seat. You reached out to catch his wrist but he was too quick, half way across the lawn before you thought to go after him. You mentally cursed him for being not only the fastest skater but the quickest wedding ditcher as you clambered after him, throwing an apology towards your mom as you kicked off your heels.

 Nearly everyone had moved to find their seats so it wasn’t hard to keep on Mat’s tail as he made his way around the venue. You cringed in pain as you dashed over the gravel path alongside the building, the small rocks digging into your feet.

 “Mat!” You called after him, hoping that the sound of your voice might bring him to a stop. It didn’t.

 “Mathew!”

 He finally stopped, leaning back against the building, catching his breath. You brushed gravel off of your feet as you cautiously walked towards him.

 “Mat?”

 “I’m sorry,” he muttered under his breath, fingers running through his hair. You furrowed your brows, finally reaching him and pressing your palms against his chest, feeling his racing heart beneath your fingertips. He wouldn’t lift his head to look at you but his hands found your waist.

 “Mat…” you said again, not sure of what else to say. You tilted your head so you could meet his eyes,

 “What do you need?”

 “Right now?” Mat asked. You nodded. Mat finally met your gaze, the look in his eyes unrecognizable,

 “You.”

 You pushed down the selfish feeling of triumph, knowing that he was panicking and now was not the time to be putting yourself on a pedestal. So, you ran your hands up his chest and around his neck, pulling him into you and gently carding your fingers through his hair,

 “I’m right here, Barz, I’m always gonna be right here.”

 Mat wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you flush against him. He knew the ceremony was supposed to start soon but everything in the background was fading away as he rested back against the building, bringing you with him. The rate of his heart was settling as he focused on your breathing and the steady motion of you running your fingers through his hair.

Neither one of you said anything for a while, Mat didn’t even know how much time had passed. He had his eyes closed and his face buried in your neck. His body was calming down but his mind was still unsettled. He wasn’t sure how he could go back to the ceremony without confessing everything to you. If he had to run from the wedding he could do that, but he couldn’t hold his feelings in any longer.

 “You can tell me anything, Barz,” you whispered softly, as if you had read his mind.

 “I know,” Mat mumbled, his grip on you loosened and he pulled back. His hands still rested on your waist so you let your hands fall from his neck but kept them pressed against his chest. You tried your best not to look at him with so much pain in your eyes but you couldn’t help but feel worried for him. You’d never seen him so...distressed. And it felt so out of the blue. It was completely out of character for him.

 There was one other time in your life you could remember him panicking like this. It was the night before he was supposed to leave for the draft. He had shown up at your door, luckily you were the one who had answered. It was late in the evening and your parents were watching TV and you were actually on your way out the door to meet friends, Mat supposedly being amongst them.

 “Oh-” you jumped in surprise when Mat was standing on the other side of your front door, hand raised like he might be about to knock.

“Hey,” Mat breathed, an uneasy smile on his face.

“What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at Bryce’s house?” You said, pulling the door shut behind you.

“Yeah-” Mat glanced around anxiously, hands in his hair, “I just-”

“You wanna go for a drive?” You interrupted, reading him like a book. Mat sighed a breath of relief, nodding and slinging his arm around your shoulders, guiding you out to his truck.

That night you and Mat ended up driving up and down the back roads for almost three hours, him venting about how nervous he was for the draft. How nervous he was for the rest of his career. He had all the same fears and worries about going into the NHL as you did about going into college. There was always the question of whether or not things would work out. If you would live up to expectations set for you. Mat was human like everyone else, something the media tended to forget.  

 Something about today, though, was different. You knew it wasn’t contract related. Sure his RFA status was on his mind but it was all a part of the job. You just wanted to know what was going on with your best friend.

 Mat took a deep breath, bringing your attention back to the present tense.

 “Please don’t hate me,” Mat said quietly, that same uneasy smile on his face. You felt like you were standing on your porch, 17 again.

 “Mat,” you laughed softly, “I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

 Mat smiled again, a little more genuine this time but it didn’t reach his eyes.

 “I think I’m in love with you,” he said. His voice was so quiet you weren’t even sure if you heard him. Certainly didn’t think you heard him right.

 “What?”

 Your mouth felt dry and the air had been swept from your lungs. All the noise from the wedding became warped as you focused on Mat’s face. He lifted his head, eyes locking with yours.

 “I think I’m in love with you,” he repeated, “And I know it’s cliche to fall in love with your best friend but I feel like I’m not me when I’m not around you. And when I think about my future, whether it’s tomorrow or next month, or six years from now, you’re the one person that I see in everything.”

 Mat was rambling but you weren’t saying anything and he couldn’t handle the silence. He’d opened the floodgate and he couldn’t turn off the faucet.

 “And whenever we’re at these weddings, or even just anything together, I can’t help but think about how easy and natural it feels to be with you. I don’t care that people think we’re together because I want us to be together and I know that you may not feel the same way but I can’t help but think that you do. You can’t say that things aren’t different between you and me, compared to your friendship with Tyson, or-or Tito, or any other one of our friends. And I’m freaking out right now because-”

 Mat paused, he hadn’t been planning on confessing that he’d heard your sleepy confession, but he had to tell you that he knew.

 “Because two weeks ago when we were at Jasmine’s wedding and we got in that stupid fight because I was being an idiot, and I brought you back to bed after you fell asleep on the couch, I heard you. I heard what you said, Y/N. So please, don’t tell me you don’t feel the same way because I know you do. I know you do.”

 Your jaw was practically on the floor. Not only at his confession but at the memory that came flooding back to you.

 You had felt Mat settle you back into bed, climbing in beside you. Even though you had been mad at him earlier you couldn’t stay upset with him. And you felt so much comfort in him. So, you let him pull you into his chest. As his breathing evened out you let those three little words slip out.

 “I love you.”

When you felt his heart skip a beat you knew he had heard you. But then he never said anything more about it so you kicked everything under the rug, pushed your feelings down and held your chin high.

 “Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked. Mat dropped his head to the side, biting the inside of his cheek, fingers carding through his hair before finding your waist again.

 “I didn’t want it to be just a hazy, half drunk confession,” he said, “I didn’t know if you meant it. Or if you even remembered saying it.”

 You looked down at his hands, pulling them from your waist so you could lace your fingers with his.

 “I did mean it,” you whispered, “I meant it then, I meant it when I said it on your 18th birthday and you were passed out on the couch after having too many beers, I meant it when I said it after I dropped you off at the airport before you went to New York, I meant it when I said it every time we got off the phone, I meant it every time I said it when we were drunk at the bars.”

 Mat was trying to contain his smile as you listed all of the times you had confessed your feelings for him.

 “I’ve said it so many times but I could never bring myself to say it to your face. I could barely look at myself in the mirror and say it and I couldn’t even admit it to my friends. And when you wanted me to be your security I thought that was it. I thought that I was just a backup plan for you and it hurt. And it hurt when I saw you with that bridesmaid,” you said, “But nothing hurts more than not having you around.”

 “So-” Mat trailed off, lifting your chin to look at him. He needed to know if you were saying what he thought you were saying.

 “So,” you rolled your eyes playfully, “I’m in love with you too Mat Barzal. And you’re a fool if you think otherwise.”

 Mat couldn’t hold back his laugh as he leaned in to kiss you. Your hands found the back of his neck again, his hands gripping your waist. Your bodies melted into each other, lips moving in perfect sync as his tongue chased yours. Nothing else mattered in that moment. Not the wedding. Not his stress of his contract. Not where you were going to end up in the next few months. None of it. All that mattered was that Mat was as in love with you as you were with him.

 “We should probably get back to the wedding,” Mat murmured against your lips. You groaned softly,

 “I don’t even like this cousin that much though.”

 Mat chuckled, pulling away,

 “Come on drama queen.”

 You pouted up at him and he dipped his head to kiss you one last time.

 The two of you managed to make it back just as the bride was about to walk down the aisle. At the risk of interrupting the wedding by going back to your seats, you stayed back behind the rows of chairs, standing against the wall of the building in the shade. Mat had his arms linked over your shoulders as you pressed your back into his chest. There had been so many times where you had stood just like that, seemingly innocent. It felt different now. With both of your confessions left hanging in the air you wondered where you might go from here. It should be simple enough. You love him, he loves you.

 Usually that’s all it takes for two people to be together. But nothing could ever be easy with the two of you, and now was no different.

 ~

 Come Monday, it felt like everything was coming crashing down around you.

 Mat had to go up north for a training camp with a few of the guys. He was only supposed to be gone for a few days and before he left he promised that the two of you would talk when he got back. The wedding hadn’t left the two of you with much privacy to talk about how the confessions were going to change the course of your friendship. And Sunday he had been packing all day and everything felt too chaotic. You had sworn you didn’t mind waiting. You had been waiting years for this moment so what was a few more days?

 Apparently, a few more days meant everything.

 You were sitting in the kitchen, working on your morning coffee while you checked your email. There were a few applications you were waiting to hear back on and every time you opened your inbox your stomach became a pit of anxiety. You crossed your fingers, hoping something would stick so you could feel some sense of relief.

 A true testament of “be careful what you wish for” because as you were crossing your fingers and toes a new email appeared at the top of the list.

 Application Status: Accept-

“Oh my god,” you gasped, hands shaking as you opened the rest of the email.

 Y/N Y/L/N

After we reviewed your application and took into account the results of your interview with our hiring staff, we are pleased to inform you that we are extending this offer of employment to you for the position of Assistant Brand Director at our headquarters in Nashville, TN. Please respond to this email with your acceptance within 72 hours. HR will reach out to you within a few days of your acceptance with hiring information and important paperwork.

Congratulations,

We look forward to hearing from you!

Your jaw nearly hit the floor. This was the opportunity of a lifetime and you had gotten it. It was as close to your dream job as you could get out of college and you could not believe that you had been chosen for the position. Immediately your mind began to spin with the logistics of needing to find an apartment and how you were going to move all of your stuff from Coquitlam to Nashville and figuring out what you needed for your visa and...Mat.

 You were moving to Nashville and Mat had just told you he loved you.

 ~

 The next two days you spent pacing in front of your computer screen. You hadn’t told anyone anything and it was eating you up inside. You and Mat didn’t want to tell anyone until you had the chance to talk about your relationship status together in full, so you couldn’t very well tell your parents that you had gotten the job opportunity of your dreams without then having to explain why you were having such a hard time deciding whether or not to accept it.

 You would have called Mat to break the news, just so you could rip the bandaid off and he could have a few days away to stew with it, but he didn’t have any service up at the training camp.

 It didn’t mean that you hadn’t tried calling him multiple times a day. Each time the phone rang twice before beeping loudly, indicating no signal.

 So, not only were you making one of the toughest decisions of your life so far, you were having to do it completely alone. And by the time Mat came back from up north it would be a done deal, regardless of which way you went. Either he would harbor guilt for being the reason behind you declining the job offer, or he would be dreading the day that you had to leave.

 Unfortunately, no matter how much you begged, the clock didn’t stop ticking. You could wait until the last minute but that wouldn’t do you any good. Truthfully you had made your decision as soon as you saw the email but gathering the courage to send the official response was taking more time.

 You had worked hard over the last four years, working part time jobs that you hated to help yourself get through the program in New York. Each unpaid internship that consumed your life had led you to this moment and you had to do it for your fifteen year old self who wondered whether or not you would make something of yourself. If Mat was half the man you thought he was he would learn how to take the news of you moving across the country to a city other than New York.

 As you paced across your room once again, nearly wearing down the carpet to the floorboards underneath at this point, you caught a glimpse of the photos around your mirror. They’d been there since you were in high school and even after you left for college you never bothered to take them down. Most were sun faded from the light that came in your window every morning but you could still make out each picture. As if your life was a cliche rom-com, the light was catching on one particular photo. It wasn’t as faded as the rest, having been added to the collection only two summers previous by Mat himself.

 In the photo you and Mat were both drunk, as was Tito who had taken the photo, hence the blurry outcome and his stupidly wide grin. Mat had his forefinger pressed against your lips, a half pout on your own lips. Neither of you noticed the camera and you were looking up at him with sparkling eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you knew that that was one of those moments, all those years ago, that you had thought to yourself how much you loved your best friend. Beyond what you had been sure he felt for you. The background was New York City and it had been one of your last nights out there before you headed home to Coquitlam for the summer.

 “And one more toast,” Mat said, his words slightly slurred as he grinned down at you, lifting his drink to cheers against yours. Half the contents spilled out, hitting the concrete beneath his feet but neither of you noticed, too busy staring at each other. His eyes were glossed over and you were sure yours were too but it didn’t matter, you and everyone you came with was well drunk at that point. The guys had wanted to have one more night out before everyone parted ways for the off season and Mat had insisted that you come along to celebrate the end of your finals for the next three months.

“To you,” Mat continued, cheeks flushed from the alcohol, among other things, “And to your kick ass internship you have waiting for you in Vancouver.”

You giggled, gripping his arm for support,

“Than-”

“I’m not done,” Mat pouted, pressing his finger against your lips. At that moment, Tito appeared beside the two of you, snapping the photo. The flash barely phased either one of you, too caught up in each other to pay Tito much mind, leaving him to laugh to himself.

“They’re lucky to have you, and you’re gonna do really really really really-”

“Mat!” You laughed, curling your fingers around his hand, protesting his dramatics.

“Still not done!” He said, using what leverage he had to pull you into his chest before continuing,

“Really really really amazing things with your life. And I’m so happy I get to be your biggest cheerleader.”

Mat’s gaze flickered towards your lips, wetting his own subconsciously. Tito chose that moment to intervene, much to your dismay, but he knew that if the two of you were going to confess your undying love you would rather it be sober and not seven drinks deep with a hundred strangers around.

All you remembered next was Tito throwing his arms around the two of you, saying something about heading back to Anders’ place for an afterparty.

A few weeks later you were laying on your bed when Mat came bounding up the stairs, having let himself in like he owned the place.

“We have a doorbell,” you rolled your eyes, kicking against his stomach when his fingers tickled the underside of your foot.

“And run the risk of you not letting me in?” Mat teased, “No thank you.”

He waved a piece of paper between his fingers, a smile on his face as he dug through your desk for tape.

“You come in my house unannounced and go through my desk without asking, you, Mathew Barzal, have gotten too comfortable,” you groaned, sitting up. He said nothing, only laughing while fashioning the photo to your mirror.

“Ta da!” He smiled, stepping away so that you could see. You wanted to continue being annoyed at him for crashing your “me-time” but the smile on his face made it so hard to turn him away.

“Can’t be annoyed at me now, huh,” he laughed, making himself comfortable on the bed beside you.

You huffed, shoving his chest and watching as he fell back against the pillows.

“Give me five minutes.”

Taking a shaky breath you sat down and pulled your laptop into your lap. It felt like jumping out of an airplane. You could see all the amazing sights below you, as far as the eye could see, but you had no idea what to expect of your landing. All you could hope for was that Mat would be the wind beneath your parachute, or if nothing else, be there to catch you when you landed.

 Hello,

Thank you for believing in me and my vision for this brand. I will gladly accept the position as Assistant Brand Director at your headquarters in Nashville. I look forward to joining your team and getting to know everyone. New and exciting things to come!

Thank you

Y/N Y/L/N

As soon as you pressed send you shut your laptop, not wanting to think about the inevitable until you absolutely had to. All you wanted to think about was having Mat back with you, even though it meant you had to break the news and manage whatever came of that.

 ~

 You were sitting on the front porch when Mat pulled into the driveway. The sun had begun to set, leaving everything around you dripping in gold as he climbed out of the truck. Despite the weight in your chest, you smiled widely when he called out to you.

 “Hey baby!” He pushed his hair off of his face, meeting you halfway so that he could sweep you into a hug. His skin was warm from having undoubtedly been out in the sun for the last week straight.

 “Hi,” you breathed, face buried in his neck. Mat felt like home and the ache in your chest only grew. Once he had you on your feet again he caught your chin between his forefinger and thumb, bringing your lips together. If felt like it had been a lifetime since you had kissed him, ironically so considering you had gone all those years without having ever tasted him. Now that you had it made you crave it that much more. For a moment the world, and all your troubles, faded away. Your mind felt clear and all you were focused on was his lips on yours. You wanted this right here to last forever.

 Alas, Mat pulled away, brushing his nose against yours as he smiled down at you. He’d missed you. That much you could tell.

 “Is anyone home?” Mat asked, glancing between you and the door. He noticed that you made no moves to pull him inside. You shook your head,

 “No.”

 It was hard to ignore the pounding in your chest, you just hoped he couldn’t hear it or feel it.

 “Do you want to watch a movie or go for a drive?” Mat asked, his eyes scanning your face. Something was up. He could sense it in the way you were averting your eyes from his.

 “Actually,” you said quietly, “I have to tell you something.”

 Mat raised his eyebrows, brain kicking into overdrive as he thought about what might have transpired in the few days he was gone.

 “What’s up?” His tone was laced with concern and you gently squeezed his hands, leading him back towards the house. This was not a conversation you needed to have with your neighbors in the audience.

 Once the door was shut behind you, Mat kicked off his shoes, letting you take a moment to gather yourself. The house felt eerily quiet and Mat began to feel that sinking feeling in his stomach. Had you changed your mind? Were you ending things before they had even really begun? Did you regret it? If you regretted it why did you greet him the way you did?

 Mat couldn’t stop his thoughts from spiraling so he was grateful when you cleared your throat.

 “Um,” you paused, fingers finding the ends of your hair to twirl around. Mat closed the gap between the two of you, pulling your hands away from your hair and taking them in his own.

 “I accepted a job offer,” you said. That was not what he had been expecting.

 Mat’s features twisted from initial excitement, confusion, and concern all within a matter of seconds.

 “Is that a bad-”

 “It’s in Nashville,” you said, finally forcing yourself to look him in the eyes. Mat physically recoiled, whether he meant to or not.

 “Nashville?” He repeated. You nodded.

 “But you’re not going to take it are you? I mean-” he trailed off, waving his hands aimlessly, grasping for words. He knew you’d been looking for work but he’d just assumed you’d been looking in New York. That’s where you had gone to school and where you’d always said you envisioned yourself living and working, and that’s where he was. At least, where he was planning on being.

 “You can’t-you can’t move to Nashville. I mean that’s-that’s, I don’t know exactly how far but it’s a far ways away from New York.”

 “I have to take it,” you said, staring at Mat with wide eyes. Was he being serious?

 “But it’s in Nashville…” Mat reiterated, as if you didn’t already realize that.

 “Yes, but Mat I can’t base my job on where you might be playing next season,” you explained, tangling your fingers in your hair,

 “You don’t have a contract in New York yet and god knows where you might end up if they can’t match other offers.”

 “So?” Mat’s tone was higher than usual and you could tell he was panicking. You had expected to be met with some resistance but not quite like this. The conversation had taken a turn faster than anticipated. While Mat was notoriously stubborn, he celebrated his friends and the people close to him. What you were feeling at the moment was anything but that. He kept glancing between you and the couch and the cardboard boxes in the hallway he hadn’t noticed before, trying to conjure up the words,

 “I’ve told you before you don’t need to work. I can provide for both of us.”

 You couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh, feeling offended at his offer,

 “I did not go to college and bust my ass off for four years to get a degree to end up becoming a trophy wife! And I’m not even your girlfriend! I’m just a friend that you fell in love with! You’ll find another one of me when I’m gone!”

 Mat groaned, dropping his head back and staring up at the ceiling,

 “You’re not just a friend. How could you think you’re just a friend?”

 “Well then what are we doing Mat? What have we been doing all this time? Until a week ago I didn’t even know I mattered that much to you.”

 “You didn’t know you mattered to me?” Mat stared at you incredulously.

 That may have been a bit of a stretch. Mat had never failed to make you feel important and he made an effort to find time for you regardless of his hectic schedule. And there were certainly moments where you caught glimpses of what life as Mat’s partner might look like.

 “Not like that,” you said softly. Mat didn’t say anything, he knew you were right about that. He’d kept his feelings to himself but in his defense so had you.

 “I can’t let go of this opportunity, Mat,” you continued, pleading for him to look at you. He met your gaze.

 “And you can’t ask me to. I would never ask you to put your life aside for me so please don’t ask me to do it for you.”

 “You said you were always going to be here for me!” Mat said, voice cracking and strained as he looked up at you. The sight was enough to make your heart break.

 “I am,” you cried, tears filling your eyes, “I will always be here for you. Even in Nashville.”

 “And how do you plan on doing that?” Mat asked, sounding defeated. You grasped for words, avoiding his eyes as you glanced around the living room,

 “I-I don’t-We’ll figure it out, Mat.”

 “Figure it out?” Mat looked at you incredulously, “Do we have time to figure it out?”

 You fell quiet, the impending date of your departure looming. Mat’s tone dropped,

 “You already told them yes?”

 “They gave me three days Mat,” you said, tone pleading. He nodded, looking away from you. As mad as he was at you, the way the sunlight that was coming in through the window was hitting your skin he swore he’d never seen you look so beautiful. And that was making this hurt all that much more.

 “When do you leave?”

 “Ten days,” you said, your voice weak. Mat’s eyes widened,

 “You’re leaving in ten days and you didn’t even bother to tell me?”

 “I had three days to make a decision,” you defended, “And you were gone. I had to make a choice.”

 “That doesn’t mean you couldn’t have at least told me,” Mat protested, “I would have been happy for you.”

 “What, are you not happy for me now?” You took a step back, feeling your mood take a turn.

 “Of course I’m happy for you and I’m proud of you,” Mat sighed, fingers running through his hair, “But put yourself in my shoes. This came out of left field, I didn’t even know Nashville was an option.”

 “Well I never knew Seattle was an option for you! Or New York! Or wherever the fuck you might end up next season! But I deal with it because I love you Mat. And I’m starting to think that you don’t love me enough back.”

 You knew that he loved you but now that you were standing in the eye of the storm you wondered if you were blinded by the idea of the two of you ending up together. It would be a fairytale ending, one for the ages. But was love alone enough to get the two of you through this? Mat was charming with everyone and looked at everyone like he was a little bit in love with them.

 Had it been foolish to think that he looked at you as if you hung the moon, even if you saw him as the man who painted the stars?

 ~

 “Shouldn’t Mat be helping you with this?” Jasmine huffed, pulling another armful of clothes from your closet. It was your last week at home before you had to be on a plane, heading across the border to Nashville, TN to start your new position.

“He has training,” you lied. The truth was you hadn’t seen Mat, or even heard from him, since the day that you broke the news of you leaving.

 “You think I don’t love you?” Mat said, his voice breaking.

“You’re supposed to support the people that you love, Mat,” you said.

“I do support you, I do,” Mat said, “But fuck if I’m not going to miss you like hell when you’re not right beside me.”

You had tears burning your eyes as he tugged at his hair, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’m just in shock,” Mat continued, “I guess I just assumed that you were looking in New York exclusively and that was foolish of me to think. And you’re right I can’t ask you to cater your life to me. I just didn’t know. I never imagined I’d lose you.”

“You’re not losing me, Mat,” you said, stepping closer to him, hands coming to rest on his chest. He dropped his chin, eyes trained on your hands as you curled your fingers around the material of his t-shirt.

“I do love you, you know,” Mat said, “And I will keep loving you even when you move to Nashville. You’re my best friend, you’re everything to me-”

“Barzy,” you whispered, shutting your eyes to stop the tears.

“But I can’t hold you back,” he continued, “There is so much out there waiting for you and maybe you don’t need me anymore. Maybe being in love isn’t enough to keep us together when there’s going to be a thousand miles between us.”

[ladygloucester]

A Common Enemy - The healing

Previously…

He loved that place. It had been his favorite place since he was a child. Whenever he had a fight with his siblings or was scolded by his parents, he would run to that quiet bank and let the sound of the stream take his worries away, under a centenary oak. But now there was no solace to be found. He stared at the moon, reflected upon the dark current, and threw a pebble over the surface.

All for  naethin'.

Assaulting Fort William was a fool’s errand. Who, in their right mind, would risk their lives to enter a British fortress only to escape with an English woman about to marry an officer. At first he thought only Murtagh and him were crazy enough to attempt such a thing, but when his godfather talked to Angus and Rupert, both of them decided to join. Claire had tended to both of them while she was acting as Castle Leoch’s healer and even before, while traveling their way back from the ambush, and a feeling of debt pushed them to try and save her. That, and knowing she had tried to save them from the gallows.

The gang had left the MacKenzie quarters in the middle of the night. Jamie’s shoulder was still sore and his fever, though lower, kept his head light and dizzy whenever he moved abruptly. Galloping to Fort William had proven not to be the best treatment for a bullet wound, but determination overcame pain and by the time they arrived at the garrison, the only fire he felt was the one caused by his desire to steal Claire from Randall’s claws.

The plan was simple. Rupert and Angus had kept some redcoats uniforms they had stolen in rowdy circumstances and not willing to find anymore about it, Jamie had accepted Murtagh’s idea: they would infiltrate the fortress dressed as English soldiers. When Jamie looked at his kinsmen in uniform, he would have laughed if the situation was the slightest bit lighter. It would have been easier to make a donkey look like a swan than to transform four broad highlanders into soldiers of the Crown. Jamie didn’t look any better. His red curls stuck out in any situation, even though he pulled the tricorn on almost to his eyebrows, trying to hide them. The coat was tight and he felt like the seams would tear the minute he moved his shoulders. If any of the guards took a second look at them, they would be in trouble.

The four highlanders knew Fort William pretty well. All of them had been part of Jamie’s escape from the fortress after the second flogging, and if memory served correctly, there was an opening in the back of the garrison, used mainly to throw away waste and garbage near the river. Armed only with their daggers, since a Scottish broad sword would draw an English eye from a mile away, they descended into the valley. Mud and spoilage stuck to their boots and an awful smell kidnapped their noses.

“It stinks worse than Sweaty Netty’s oxter,” Rupert muttered.

The opening was still there and, by the look of the surroundings, it was still used for the same purpose. Even Jamie, the tallest of the group, couldn’t reach the borders with his hand. Over ten feet separated the men from the access to the fortress. Looking at each other, they silently decided to grab Angus without another word and propel him up. Once he reached the opening, he secured a rope and helped them climb up. Jamie’s wound was burning and by the time he joined the others, he could feel the warmth of blood slipping on his back. He eluded Murtagh’s knowing gaze and lead the group through the corridors.

They didn’t know where Claire was. Clearly Randall wouldn’t have thrown her into the common cells. No, he must have kept her some place where he could access without raising any eyebrows. Even a captain of His Majesty’s Army would have to answer a few questions as to why he was keeping her fiancée locked away in a rotting cell. Jamie grunted at the very thought. Probably some storage room could do it, but again, it could raise suspicions to see him wander around where only maids and simple soldiers would go. That only left a possibility.

The hour was late and the garrison was cloaked with the peace that usually accompanies dreams. They dodged a few couples of drowsy soldiers on their way to the officer’s chambers, trying to look as English as they could. Moving more like shadows than the warriors they were, once they reached the wing that was reserved to the captain and other commanders, it was time to decide which door they should try. They split throughout the corridor in silence, trying to look for a clue that would indicate where Claire could be. Jaime desperately searched around and stuck his ear to the doors. Nothing more than snoring and other breathing sounds. Too masculine to come from her. Murtagh’s hand reached his arm quietly to attract his attention and made a gesture with his head towards one of the doors by the end of the hall.

Followed by his men, Jamie stared at it. It look like the rest of them, but a small padlock hung opened from the knob. He could feel the blood escaping to his limbs, ready for battle. One last look at his godfather, that nodded once curtly, Jamie kicked the door restraining a scream that would draw even more curious eyes than the thud of the wood under his foot.

Jamie swallowed hard when the memory came back to his senses, as if he was living it again, trapped in that nightmare of a night. The sight of Claire strapped to the wall, that scum of a man getting ready to rape her, the blood that covered her back when he turned around to face them… He was unable to control his anger. While Murtagh run to free Claire, Jamie’s fist didn’t take too long before getting acquainted to Randall’s nose. The crack of the bone revolted and comforted him at the same time, and before he had the chance to fall to the floor, Jamie tackled him and crushed him under his weight. There, the English captain had no power at all. He tried to defend himself and Jamie took a couple of punches. At least he thought he must have taken them, when he saw his face in the mirror a couple of days later. In the heat of the moment the pain was nonexistent. Only the feeling of Randall’s face breaking under his fists. That’s all that mattered, even when Rupert and Angus had to use all their strength to restrain him from killing the thug.

That moment he would never forget. Claire, limp in Murtagh’s arms while he untied her wrists, looking at him as if he was a ghost. That was all it took for him to forget about Randall and held her into his arms.

All… for naethin’. He threw another pebble.

They decided to stay in Lallybroch, the home Jamie hadn’t been able to visit since a price was put on his head. The estate was run by his sister and her husband, an old childhood friend of the family and a former brother in arms when both of them went to France being just lads. But since they arrived it had all taken a turn for the worse.

That night the moon was still young in the sky. After a day on the horse, Jamie and the others had taken separated ways in order to avoid prosecution as much as they could. They would gallop all the way back to Castle Leoch while Jamie returned to his clan. The steps of his exhausted mount echoed against the walls of the main stone building. Jenny hadn’t seen him in the past four years. Showing up unannounced, unexpected and with a wounded woman in his arms almost left her without words. While Jamie got an unconscious Claire off the horse, Jenny stood petrified under the threshold, staring at the scene in disbelief, joy and scold.

His brother-in-law, Ian, was even more astonished when he stepped carefully out of the house, trying not to touch her obviously irritated wife, to receive them.

“Ye always likit to make an entrance…” He mustered while Jamie faced his sister in the entrance, plea and determination on his face, an unreadable mixture of feelings in hers.

Jenny left the words that came to her mind in a whirlwind for a better moment and run upstairs, with her eight months pregnancy almost forgotten, to light a fire in one of the spare bedrooms. Jamie climbed the steps twice at a time and left Claire’s body carefully on the blankets of the bed. Jenny walked resolutely to them and rolled her over her side, squirming at the sight of her mistreated back. Her eyes went back to his brother’s, anxiously staring at the woman.

“Lea’. Noo.” Their gazes locked, measuring each other. “D’ye really want to fecht me? Noo?”

Jamie had accepted defeat and leave the room for her sister to tend to Claire. He must have fallen asleep without even noticing, because when he woke up, he was lying on the same floor but tucked under a blanket and with his head resting on a pillow. Jenny was nowhere to be seen.

I shouldna hae…

But he had. Trying to keep the wooden floor from cracking, he had stepped into the bedroom slowly and quietly. A candle by the bed lit Claire’s pale features. She was lying on her side, letting the wounds of her back breath without the pressure of her own body. In her sleep, the creases of pain and fear had relaxed, and her mouth rested slightly opened. Jamie squatted by the bedside and stared at her face, shaken by a wave of emotions. Relief was the most prominent, and even a timid smile reflected on his face. Claire was finally back, safe and no one would ever steal her again from him.

After a few minutes, he finally yielded to the need and allowed his fingertips to reach her face. Delicately, they traced the bones under her cheeks, the softness of her eyebrows, the fullness of her lips.

You bawheid….

Her eyes opened slowly, fighting the drowsiness and trying to focus. Jamie’s hand froze in place before replacing his fingertips with her palm, caressing her cheek.

Claire jolted back and try to scream at the top of her lungs. Her throat was so sore the noise was more a shriek than a yell. She curved into a ball, grabbing her ears and crying inconsolably. Jaime stood up completely at a loss. He hadn’t expected her response and it hurt him dearly to see her rejecting him like that. Still undecided about what to do next, Jenny had marched into the room and pushed him from the bed, before climbing on top of it to hold Claire still.

“Oot. Noo!”

Three days had passed already and whenever he had tried to enter her bedroom and talk to her, Claire would scream and yell, crying and covering her ears in absolute despair. Jenny was always by her side and jumped in to console her when this happened. She hadn’t spoken so far, and only ate when his sister spoon fed her. She’d stay day and night by her side, combing her hair, bathing her with a warm wet cloth and tucking her in bed when night fell. All the things Jamie was dying to do, but couldn’t.

The first tears came down as the last pebble surfed the stream. He could take physical pain with the proverbial Scot stoicism. He wasn’t offended easily and was prone to quick forgiveness. He didn’t hold grudges, nor felt disturbed by words said in a past heated argument. But being unable to do anything, to help her recover from whatever she’d been put through was a new form of suffering he hadn’t experienced yet.

Her steps were light even in her state. Jamie didn’t turn around to meet her, just wiped his tears from his cheeks and clenched his jaw.

“Ye’ve always come here whenever ye’re fash’d.”

Jenny stood by his brother and stared into the stream.

“I hate it. I hate not bein able to do oniething. It juist…“

“It’s tearing your guts out. I ken.”

Her hand settled on his arm and squeezed it tightly once, reassuringly. He felt the tears resuming their path all the way down his face, then jumping on to his shirt.

“I dinna ken what happened to her. But I ken what happened to ye and not bein with ye tore my guts out,” she whispered.

“I juist… I juist want to go wherever she is and take her back wi’ me.”

“Then maybe ye shuid.“

Both stared into each other’s eyes, Jamie from his height and Jenny under her mass of black curls. So different and yet, so similar and understanding of each other feelings. She nodded quietly and interlocked her arm with his, pulling him slowly back home.

Facing that ominous door was one of the hardest things he had ever done. Jamie felt his sister’s presence behind him, and he also noticed when she left him to confront his task on his own. His hand landed on the wood, polished by decades of use, and slid all the way down to the knob to access the bedroom.

The hearth was crackling, throwing a cozy light on the scene. Claire was awake, with her back supported by pillows, staring at the ceiling of the bed. The noise of the door closing into its frame draw her attention. He could feel his heart break for the thousandth time when she covered her ears and curved into a crying ball, so small and vulnerable in the middle of the blankets her sister had placed upon her.

Jamie bit his lip and overcame how rejected he felt. Not knowing what to do, or how to behave, he just closed the distance between them and sat on the bed. Claire turned violently and jumped out of it, a pale vision in her white shift, and tried to reach the door. But weak as she was after all she had been through, Jamie passed by her and got between her and her purpose. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he grabbed her arms while she wept and fought him, falling to their knees.

“Claire, Claire!!”

Not willing to contain, he shook her, trying to force to look at him, but all he managed to get out of her was an unintelligible whisper that grew progressively louder, enough for him to finally understand.

“You’re dead… Don’t torment me… Please, I beg you… You’re dead…”

She kept fighting him off, but Jamie’s grip was even harder after discerning her words.

“Mo chridhe, look at me… Look at me!”

He grabbed her face and made her look into his eyes. Hers wondered around his face, as if staring at something right past it, but Jamie persevered until her gaze finally settled on him. Tears started to flow more heavily and her sobs were heartbreaking.

“You died… He told me, every day. You died, why do you torment me like this?”

“Mo nighean donn, I’m not dead. Can’t you feel me? Can’t you?” His voice trembled at the sight of so much grief and distress. Losing his words, he threw her into his arms, holding her tight against his chest, a boneless body that accepted the embrace as if it didn’t have any other possibility.

Jamie buried his face into her hair, inhaling her scent, allowing all the sorrow to finally flow out of his heart and weeping silently.

Then her hands came back to live.

Light as a dove wing, first one and then the other, they tentatively climbed from her lap to his back, as if recognizing unknown territory. As if holding him for the first time in her life. They went over his back, gaining confidence, tracing the scars through the fabric of his shirt. She pulled back slightly, enough for her to see his face. Hers was a mask of utter disbelief and unexpected astonishment. Her fingertips reached his cheeks, feeling the moistness of his tears against the satin golden beard that had begun to cover them. Slowly, they traveled all the way to his temples, caressing the curls that stuck to his skin, dampened. Then they descended to land on his lips, soft as the touch of a butterfly, tracing them before a way of relief washed over her. She gasped.

“J… Jaime?”

He smiled slowly, a sad smile that contained every emotion that had been latent inside of him, and nodded.

“I’m here, mo chridhe.”

Claire’s brow furrowed, still not willing to fully accept the reality that displayed before her, looking for one final proof. Slowly, painfully slowly, she closed the distance between their faces, and grazed his lips with hers. He felt her jolt in his arms at the touch, staying still for a second, before throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him with a strength he didn’t know she had. Jamie held her even closer while his mouth welcomed her taste, the silkiness of her lips between his, the smell of her skin under his nose. That kiss said all they couldn't put into words. 

He pulled her away carefully to watch her, soaking in that moment of happiness, the first after too many misfortunes.

“Ist m'eudial, cuir stad airdo rànail - cha tig cron sam bit ort”.

Next…

[azvolrien]

Anchored Tempest - Chapter Five

I’m on a roll. We shall have to see how long it lasts.

~~~

           Karash and Ikara’s house was the biggest in the village. Like most of the houses, it was formed out of domed structures built from stone, smoothed with fired clay, and linked by short arched corridors, but it was three times the size of the next-largest and sat surrounded by fields. A few hardy mountain cattle grazed around it, and fled to the other side of their pasture when Star drew close. On the other side of the house stood a large wooden barn, big enough to comfortably house two Rohones and with a covered platform on the roof for Tsheer.

           “This is a big house for just two people,” said Una.

           “We used to have a bigger family,” said Karash.

           “I’m sorry, I didn’t –”

           “It’s fine, you couldn’t have known.” He caught her eye, sighed, and answered the question she had chosen not to ask aloud. “There was a sickness in the village when Ikara was a toddler. Our whole family came down with it. Only she and I recovered.”

           Star thought that should make them more sympathetic to the dragons’ problem.

           “Maybe, but I’m not going to say that,” Una quietly told her. “It’s not tactful.”

           “What was that?” asked Karash.

           “Nothing – just Star being Star.”

           Karash shrugged and spoke to Ikara, who nodded back and took off with Tsheer for a tower perched on a crag high above the village. After a few minutes, the deep sound of a huge drum rumbled out across the valley. The beat was soon taken up by a second tower to the south.

           “What was that?” asked Una.

           “The message drummers, warning the Warren to expect visitors,” said Karash. “They won’t appreciate it if we bring a dragon there unannounced.”

           “You have a drumbeat for ‘dragon’?” asked Una.

           “Not exactly.” Karash took the hand-drum from his sash and tapped out a little rhythm with the tips of his claws. “That one is ‘friendly’,” he explained, before demonstrating a different beat. “And that one is ‘god’. Maybe we should make a separate one for ‘dragon’…” He hung the drum back on his sash and clambered down from Rohone’s shoulders. “Anyway, get Star settled and I’ll show you around the house.”

           The inside of the house was more comfortable than Una had expected. The floors were either sanded wood or smooth flagstones, covered here and there with warm rugs, and each of the domes served a separate purpose; the largest was a general living and dining area, filled with low tables and squashy couches padded with wool and covered with soft cloth or brushed leather, while a wide archway led through to a second, slightly smaller dome housing a kitchen large enough to cook for a whole battalion of hungry orcs. Karash’s cooking out in the woods had led Una to expect a simple firepit, perhaps with a spit for meat or a tripod to balance a cauldron, but the kitchen was furnished with an enormous brick oven and a row of three wood-fired iron stoves, as well as a long, beautifully-polished stone basin and a clever mechanical pump that filled it with clear, cold water from somewhere outside. The latrines were kept in a small separate dome of their own, a little away from the main house and linked by a covered walkway to avoid any mad dashes in the rain, but their bathroom was otherwise well-appointed with a sink much like the kitchen’s and a stone tub so big that Una initially took it for an indoor swimming pool.

           “It must be a bit cold to bathe in,” she said once Ikara stopped laughing at her mistake.

           “We do have a water-heating tank,” said Karash, “but there’s no fuel in the furnace, since we’ve been away, and it takes so long to heat up that it’s probably not worth it if we’re leaving in a couple of days. And Star will not fit into the furnace chamber,” he added, correctly interpreting the idea that lit up Una’s face.

           “Aw.”

           “Though you’re welcome to have a bath if you don’t mind the cold. The water’s safe to drink as well, if you’re thirsty – it’s drawn from the river, but we filter it before it ever reaches the houses.”

           Una gave the pump by the sink an experimental turn, sending a brief stream of water splashing against the polished granite. “Would you say your village is isolated?” she asked.

           “Well… That depends what you mean,” said Karash. “We have Ikara and the message-drums, so news, other messages and anything else small enough to be carried by a rukh can get here easily enough… but the next village is more than a day away on the ground, and that’s travelling at a brisk pace. Why do you ask?”

           “In Stormhaven, near where I grew up – well, not very near – there are a few settlements high up in the Chainbreaker Hills. But they’re… Most of them still don’t have running water. I suppose I didn’t expect somewhere so far up in the mountains like this to be as… Comfortable.”

           “We have the river for water, and the forest for wood,” said Karash with a shrug. “Everything else is just cleverness. Come on, the rest of the house is through this way.”

           He led her out of the bathroom, Ikara following behind, and through to another large dome. This one didn’t have very much in the way of furniture; just a wide, shallow, round depression in the floor, padded with a mattress of wool and linen and completely covered with cushions, blankets and quilts. Doorways all around the room led to other chambers beyond.

           “And this is the bedroom,” said Karash. “My personal rooms are down through that doorway; Ikara has the ones up there. The rest of them… I suppose we could turn them into guest rooms, but right now they’re just full of old boxes.”

           “Bedroom?”

           “Yes.”

           “Singular?”

           “Well, yes,” said Karash. “People need their own spaces, but everyone just piles up together for sleeping.” He glanced down at Una. ���Is that… not how you do things?”

           Una slowly shook her head. “Where I’m from… usually only couples share a bed. Other people sleep in separate beds. Often separate rooms.”

           “Ah. Hm. Well, I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable…”

           “No, it’s fine,” said Una after a few seconds of recalibrating her thinking. “It’s – it’s a very big bed. I’ll just find my own bit of it.”

           The next couple of days passed, if not without incident, at least without violence. A couple of unfamiliar Windkindred appeared with their rukha the day after Una’s arrival, each armed with plain but razor-sharp fighting knives as well as short spears like Ikara’s, but Karash’s status as a Memory-Singer clearly counted for more than he had let on; both of the older females listened to his explanation in patient silence, looked Una up and down, briefly inspected the barn where Star had made her nest, and left again.

           “They’re not going to fetch reinforcements, are they?” asked Una.

           “You’re fine,” Karash assured her. “With luck, they’ll clear the way for us so we can get to the Warren unchallenged. You and Ikara would be able to fly down there in a matter of hours, but it’ll be a few days’ ride with me and Rohone along – and you’re not leaving me behind.”

           “You can’t ride with one of us?”

           “Sky above, no,” said Karash with a laugh. “An adult male like me? You wouldn’t even get off the ground.”

           “No, I suppose not.”

           As planned, they set off for the Warren the following morning. It was a clear, cool day, with only a few high, fine wisps of cloud above the mountains other than around the Tempest Spires, where the storm still roiled in place. A few of the orcs from the village turned out to see them off, but they did so without much ceremony; Fireesh gave them a loaf of bread for the journey and Jari passed on a few messages for the Warren, but no speeches were made or any music played. Karash braced one foot on Rohone’s trunk and climbed up to his customary place on the beast’s shoulders. Ikara double-checked the straps of Tsheer’s harness and swung herself up onto his back.

           “Are you ready for this?” asked Una.

           Star lifted her head and gave her a haughty stare. Una needed to ask?

           “Well… Still, let the orcs take the lead. They know the land here, and the people. We’ll get into less trouble that way.

           That didn’t sound like much fun.

           “You saw the bones up in the mountains,” said Una. “These people have killed dragons – lot of dragons, ones much older and much bigger than you. You cannot be as reckless here as you can back in the north.”

           Star let a cloud of steam puff from her jaws in a sigh. If they were attacked, she would defend – but she wouldn’t strike first.

           “I suppose that’s fair. Keep an eye on Ikara and Tsheer – they probably have a better handle on what’s actually an attack and what’s just a show of force.”

           Star didn’t trust that feathery dragon.

           “I don’t think he’s actually a – never mind. Let’s just get on the road.”

           Despite Karash’s earlier warning, Rohone moved with deceptive speed; while his gait never moved above a brisk walk, his pillar-like legs were so long that his walk was almost as fast as a horse’s canter, and he steadily ate up the miles as they followed the winding packed-earth road down the valley, past fields of crops and herds of livestock. The next morning, Karash led their little troop in a half-circle around a bigger village built on both sides of the river, but they didn’t escape unnoticed: a guard astride a huge aurochs bull rode out to speak with Karash, followed by a younger female with a wolf tagging at her heels. Whatever Karash said to them, they seemed doubtful, but the guard lowered his spear after a last cautious glance at Star and rode back to the village. The female and her wolf followed after a more curious look at Star.

           “Two Bridges was founded by refugees from the lowlands before the Last Revolt,” explained Karash as they moved off again. “Survivors of one of Voice of the Mountain’s rampages. Their memories of the dragons are… not good. You might have been in trouble if you came here alone.”

           Una eyed a ballista mounted on a watch tower, and could only nod.

           They kept travelling down the river valley until Karash led them off the road and up through a narrow pass, high enough that snow speckled the ground but not so steep that Rohone couldn’t handle the incline. On the other side, the rocky mountainside sloped down into a new valley, a little narrower but still green and cultivated like that of Crooked River.

           Halfway down into the valley, Star froze in place and reared up on her hind legs, nearly dislodging Una from her seat. Karash and Ikara both looked around to see what had upset her.

           “Ah,” said Karash. “I’d forgotten that was there.”

           The skeleton of a dragon lay before them. It was about three times the size of Star, and unlike the Garden of Bones this one had not been artfully rearranged; it just sprawled where it had fallen, its wings stretched out across the mountainside and a few of its vertebrae rolled out of place to lodge against boulders and in crevices. The skull lay half on its side, twisted out of place and tangled in briars that had grown since its death. The neck bones behind it had been sheared into pieces by the fury of its long-ago killer’s attack, and its ribs were cracked where it had slammed into the mountain.

           Star arched her neck, pulling her head as close to her shoulders as it would go.

           “You find a lot of dragon skeletons back in the north,” said Una. “From when the Devourer came. But they’re usually… not as damaged.”

           “Red Snow in the Killing Winter,” said Karash. “It came to terrorise the high valleys in the beginning of the Last Revolt, after the fall of Voice of the Mountain. The Windkindred slew it here, but not before it burned every village in four valleys. Don’t feel too bad for it.”

           Star slowly drew back from the skeleton and gave it a wide berth as she carried on down the mountainside. The dragons she knew did not do such things.

           “These weren’t like the dragons we know,” said Una quietly.

           She understood that. But still.

           Red Snow’s bones were not the last they found on the way to the Warren. In the next pass, three skulls even bigger than Red Snow’s had been mounted on sturdy wooden posts, while more than one village had made use of long bones for roof supports and door lintels. Nor were all of the orcs as welcoming as the people of Crooked River Village, but Karash was quick to intervene before anyone came to blows.

           Another few days went by, crossing through high passes and fording rivers in low valleys, until Karash finally called a halt on a quiet trail up a small, densely-forested valley.

           “We’re here,” he said.

           Una looked around. “I don’t see anything.”

           “That’s by design. Right, there are some caves a little further up that way – Star will need to stay there. She won’t fit in the Warren.”

           Star did not like leaving Una by herself.

           “I’ll be fine with Karash,” Una assured her. “You’ll have Rohone to keep you company.”

           Star didn’t think much of Rohone’s conversational skills, but she turned and crawled off towards the promised caves. Karash climbed down to the ground and let Rohone lumber after her. After a quick word from Karash, Ikara and Tsheer followed as well, though not without a deep sigh from Ikara.

           “They’ll keep her safe if anyone shows up,” said Karash. “This way.”

           He walked off the trail into the trees, shoving through ferns and shrubs until he reached an odd rock formation, covered in moss and shaped a little like a sleeping lion. Una stood back as he poked the fingers of one hand into a narrow crack beneath what resembled the lion’s head and felt around until, with a faint click, he lifted the slab of rock to reveal a round hatchway only a little wider than his shoulders and a metal ladder leading down into the gloom.

           “This isn’t the only entrance,” said Karash, “but it’s the easiest to get to from Crooked River Village. You go first; I’ll shut the hatch behind us.”

           The ladder led about twenty feet straight down until the shaft opened out into a dark, rough-hewn stone tunnel. It was cramped for an orc of Karash’s size – he was forced to duck his head and turn his shoulders sideways – but Una could easily stand upright. The sound of voices drifted on the still air in the tunnel, but strange echoes made it impossible to tell how many or make out any words.

           “Keep going,” said Karash. “Don’t worry about the dark, there’s nothing to trip on.”

           Una shrugged and walked down the tunnel. A light appeared around a bend up ahead and the voices grew a little louder. She turned the corner, blinking in the sudden light, and stopped in her tracks.

           The passage opened onto a broad stone gallery, high on the wall of the biggest cavern Una had ever seen. At one end of the cavern, a mighty waterfall cascaded to a deep, incredibly clear pool, from which a subterranean river flowed along the cave floor more than two hundred feet below where Una and Karash stood. The clash of hammers echoed up from forges along the banks of the river, while music sounded from down more passageways leading off the main cavern.

           There were orcs everywhere. Males and females alike strode busily along the ledges lining the walls of the vast cavern and over the bridges and stairways linking them together, all hard at work at their own tasks. Three adolescent males trotted behind a silver-haired female, listening closely as she lectured them in their own language. A blacksmith with a heavy leather apron cinched around his waist and scorched fur on his forearms hurried down to the forges. A team of carpenters replaced some planks from a walkway, while another pair of metalworkers carefully repaired the safety railing on one high ledge.

           As well as the orcs, there were animals. Here, a snow leopard prowled close behind an old female orc; there, an odd-looking eagle perched on the shoulder of a male. Halfway along one ledge, anyone passing by had to pause and carefully step over a snoozing boar. Bats fluttered around the high stone ceiling, but no droppings speckled the floors.

           Karash stood beside Una at the edge of the gallery and folded his arms. “It’s been so long since I saw this place for the first time, I forgot how it must look to a newcomer.” He leant on the railing and gestured out at the cavern. “Welcome to the Warren.”

~~~

The Warren originated as a natural cave system carved out by the underground river, but the orcs excavated several more chambers themselves.

The ‘odd-looking eagle’ is what we would recognise as a Philippine eagle, but I expect they call it something else.