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descendantofthesparrow · 2 years ago

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Something there - Walter Deville x reader - Oneshot

featuring Chronically ill reader!!! TW! mentions of self harm, death, and blood-drinking. takes place somewhere in the 14-1500s.

You let out a slow breath as you stepped into the castle that was known as Carfax Abbey, your grip tight on your lady's maids arm as your parents led the way through the grand hall and into the grand dining room; where the master of the three great families resided for the moment.

Your great-aunt died a few months back, allowing ample time for the master to process the event and select a new bride from the Alexander family. One of which-was you. Behind you were your fellow alexander ‘brides’; all around the same age as you, some just a smidge older. But you were all here for the same reason.

For Master Deville to take his pick of the litter, to pick his new bride of the available girls of the Alexander family. You had only seen him maybe once or twice in your life, unable to go to many of the grand parties he had hosted for the families, or greet him when he came to visit your home. You were different than the others, in a very obvious way. You had been born ill, only able to walk for short periods, constantly short of breath, vision a constant blur, and you were nearly always tired.

Even clutching onto Emma(your lady's maid) was extremely taxing on your body, and you knew you would need to sit down soon. Your parents hoped you would be chosen if only to not see you struggle through your life any longer. They had done their best to make you comfortable, but to see you wheeze, huff, and shake; just to stand, made their hearts ache. They prayed the master would take pity upon their only daughter.

They were told you probably wouldn’t make it to 25, you were barely 23 now, and it was getting harder to wake up as the months went by. They hoped and prayed to whatever god or demons that were listening to give you a chance with the master. They would be happy to grow old and watch you thrive with the master; but first, he would have to choose you.

Of which-today, was the first of several days for the master to make his choice. He wasn’t a man of looks, as you heard from your mother, he preferred for his brides to have something to them; artists, historians, fencers, scientists, writers. Many assumed he would want someone quiet, someone to stand there and look pretty as he stood front and center.

But apparently, that was wrong, his eldest bride-Viktoria, was quite….outspoken, a little bit mean, bloodthirsty, and jealous. You had heard the horror story of when your great aunt was chosen after her great-grandaunt had died, Viktoria had practically tortured her the first few years of the marriage, nearly driving your aunt to madness if the Billington bride hadn’t stepped in.

You just hoped you would be spared of her wrath if you were chosen, but hell-you had heard even those waiting to be picked were bullied by the Klopstock bride.

Your lady's maid had promised to be at your side whenever she could, knowing once the master took you aside to basically interview you, she would be unable to protect you. It only made you feel a bit better.

You blinked back into reality as everyone flooded into the grand dining room, the table pushed to one side with its chairs facing the set of doors that opened into the brilliant gardens that were lovingly tended to by the staff. Emma and your parents quickly shuffled you over to the table, sitting you down and getting you a glass of water.

As you had been ushered in, you had seen a glimpse of the master; standing in the sunlight and surveying every potential bride that came in. His eyes were shrouded by the sun, but you could feel his gaze as you stepped inside, lingering as you were sat down and taken care of.

He studied the dark circles under your eyes, the paleness of your lips, the noticeable flush in your cheeks; he could even smell it, the pain that clung to your bones, the sickness that never truly left you. He felt a small tug in his chest, an ache that told him to talk to you, to listen to you. He ignored it for the moment, knowing he had to examine all the choices before settling on a bride that would hopefully last longer than 100 years.

He waited until the last potential bride stepped in, one he recognized as Carla, and then spoke up “Thank you for coming. All of you, I know for many of you it was quite a journey to travel here” he made eye contact with your parents, your mother's hand resting on your shoulder, your skin freezing against her warm palm. They nodded back, feeling a bit of hope for you from how he seemed to almost speak directly to you and your family.

The master stepped further into the room, his face finally out of the blinding sunlight, revealing his diamond-cut jaw, crystal blue eyes, and soft-looking black hair. You swallowed a bit, noticing some of the other girls doing the same, he truly matched the stories of his beauty.

You leaned towards your lady's maid, whispering in her ear; “He’s so pretty” she giggled, her nose scrunching slightly as the master's eyes flickered over to you, the corner of his lip quirking a bit; a dimple making itself known for a split moment. You felt yourself flush, knowing he had heard your every word thanks to his supernatural hearing.

The master continued to speak, letting the families know all 7 girls would be staying for the week, to give him enough time to make a proper choice among them. Your mother’s hands clutched your shoulder, your father gave you a reassuring look. You had never been apart from them in all your life, your health didn’t allow you to, but you weren't all that worried; you were sure the master would make sure you were taken care of.

While you weren't a bride, you were a part of the Alexander family, and that alone warranted your protection. You just hoped you wouldn’t have a flare-up, the last one kept you bedridden for nearly two months. You were snapped back to reality as the master clapped his hands, a smirk on his handsome face “Now, I’m sure you’re all hungry, brunch is out in the gardens; please, indulge yourselves.” he gestured behind him, and the glass double doors opened, two butlers waiting on either side, each holding one of the doors.

Your fellow Alexander ‘brides’ all chattered with excitement, some giggling as they passed by the master. You huffed, you had just sat down and now you were going outside again. Your parents and lady’s maid let you try to stand up by yourself, always wanting to give you some sort of independence since your permanent illness would make sure you would never truly be independent. After a couple of attempts, you shook your head with a huffed sigh, your legs nearly paralyzed with pain, your father went to hoist you up; only to be stopped by the master

“Allow me,” he said, looking down at you with a silent question for your permission to carry you. You nodded, flushing as he crouched next to your chair and easily lifted you out of it, your arms going around his neck and Emma fixed your dress before the master walked out into the gardens, some of your fellow ‘brides’ looking excited for you(some looking slighted at the master's clear tilt towards you), giggling amongst each other as the master set you into one of the free chairs, your parents soon sitting on either side of you.

The master announced he had some work to finish up in his study, but you all had the rest of the day to get comfortable in the house and he would see everyone at dinner. With that, he left and everyone burst into chatter, some girls swooning over the master while others muttered to themselves, the two nearest two you; Kalista and Serena(two of your favorite cousins in fact) turning to you with teasing grins.

“it seems the master has already taken a shine to you (n/n)~!” Serena laughed, her teasing light-hearted and sweet, chuckling as you flushed and looked down at your plate, Emma already in the midst of fetching your food. “Quite” Kalista hummed, accepting her plate of food from one of the butlers and grabbing a strawberry “I’ve heard the master does take a bit to warm up to new brides, and yet it seems you’ve caught his eye already. And you’re the one he hasn’t seen in a very long time”

You hummed in agreement; you could account the master's interest in you to you really never being around when he was. Again; thanks to your illness. You could recall maybe two times you were in the same room, once when you were very young and attending your Aunts wedding(your mother's sister, not your great-aunt), you had been the flower girl and spotted the master in the shadows; and just like today, you had thought he was very pretty.

You could recall telling him that as well, beaming up at him with your front tooth missing as he looked a bit flustered at the bluntness and then smiled down at you, almost looking thrown off at you. “uh, thank you?” he nearly stuttered, as if he was unsure how to respond to such a genuine compliment, likely one he hadn't received in years. You told him he was welcome, and stumbled back off to rejoin the festivities, and only 10 minutes later you were tucked away in a quiet corner, dragged down by sudden fatigue, pain bolting up your legs, and the lack of air entering your lungs.

To this day you swore you heard the master hum down at you, and lay his jacket across your smaller body, the shivers that wracked it slowly stopping as he walked away.

You smiled at the faded memory, by the time you were conscious; the jacket was gone and you were back in your bed, the fire alight in the corner of your room and a bed warmer lay beneath your sheets. But you remembered what it smelled like; faded metal and a grand forest.

You perked up as Emma set a plate in front of you, decorated with fresh fruit, French toast, and eggs. You hummed, rubbing your hands together, huffing as you realized your hands were cold-they were always cold, no matter the weather. As you began to eat, you felt a pair of eyes on the back of your head, you turned just enough see into the castle, seeing the master looking right back down at you from his upstairs study.

He almost looked surprised to see you looking back at him, biting the inside of his cheek as you carefully waved to him with a shy smile. he waved back, just as shy-then seemed to realize he was doing it and turned away, disappearing from the window; likely going back to work.

You hummed to yourself, turning back to your food and digging back in, listening to the conversations around you, some talking about the master, some talking about what they would do if they were chosen, and some talking about how to get the masters approval and become the ~Alexander Bride~.

You had a feeling they wouldn’t be chosen no matter what they did, some of their-plans-sounded very…pushy, and most likely the master could hear them from his study, and had already crossed them off his list.

Then again, he did marry Viktoria.

You cursed whoever put you in the upstairs room, one that particularly sat all the way in the back of the halls, leaving you nearly isolated from anyone and the furthest away from the stairs-which were the bane of your existence. “Great, just great” you muttered to yourself as you clung to the wall, attempting to get back to your room after going to the bathroom, huffing and wincing as a raging headache made itself known, along with the usual pain going up your legs.

You could feel your lungs ache with the effort to keep working, and you had a feeling you weren’t going to make it to dinner that night. “lady (y/n)!” you turned, seeing the lady's maid for the Alexander brides, Mrs. Swift, rushing up to your side, her brown hair streaked with grey and pulled back into a bun “oh dear-here, let me help! Oh why they put you all the way in the back will never make sense-come’ come” you smiled and thanked her, shaking your head as she told you it was her job to do so.

“Still, you’re going out of your way, you probably have many things to do” you mumbled, leaning heavily into Mrs. Swift as she practically carried you back to your room, setting you on the bed as soon as you arrived. You went to take off your shoes but Mrs. Swift quickly attended to that before you could even lean down, and you huffed slightly-Emma always let you take care of that, again-just to give you that bit of independence.

"Thank you,” you told Mrs. Swift anyway, smiling at her as she set your shoes by the bed. You looked out the window, seeing the sun was beginning to set “um-could-could you tell” you fiddled with your fingers, biting the inside of your lip, glancing down as Mrs. Swift turned to you “Could you tell the master, I won't be able to make it to dinner? I can hardly walk on my own and Emma was excused for the rest of the day, and-and I don’t wish to be a burden on anyone”

Mrs. Swift frowned, clearly about to say you weren’t a burden when you suddenly felt a presence at the door and you turned, freezing as you saw the master, looking back at you with those ocean eyes of his. “Nonsense” the master huffed, frowning a bit as he stepped further into the room “you shouldn’t be left out, you deserve to be at dinner; just as everyone else will be.” you swallowed harshly, curling in on yourself; preparing to slightly back talk to the master.

“well-i-I can't walk on my own right now, it hurts to” the master looked very concerned at that “and-everything is flaring up-i-I’m afraid I would just be holding everyone back” you ended in a whisper, knowing he could hear every word. The master just shook his head again, turning to Mrs. Swift and speaking in a tone that clearly meant you couldn’t convince him to leave you out for the night.

“Get her ready by dinner time, and then come get me-I’ll escort Ms. (y/n) to dinner myself” you were about to object, about to say he didn’t have to do that for you-that you didn’t want to be a burden, but he just stared you down. He wasn’t taking no for an answer. So you just sighed and nodded, pouting a bit as he nodded back with a smirk and walked out of the room; leaving you with flushed cheeks and…a surprised Mrs. Swift.

“Well that’s a first” she muttered, shaking her head as you asked her what she meant. “nothing my dear, now, let’s select your dress for tonight, something lightweight hm?”

You kinda wished your parents were staying the week with you, but alas-they weren’t, such was the same for the rest of the girls, parents came to drop them off-ate brunch, and then they were off, leaving their daughters behind with their maids and the master; hoping for the best.

You could really use a dad hug right about now, nervously sitting at the foot of your bed, dressed in a light cotton gown that was sinched gently to your waist, the emerald green of the tunic dress complimenting the deep brown of your boots.

You played with your fingers as the flickering light of the fireplace danced across your face, the sun having been set a few minutes ago; Mrs. Swift having left to get the master around the same time. You sat up with flushed cheeks as someone knocked on your door. You told them to come in, looking down as the master walked in, looking quite nice in a deep red flowing shirt, a vest overtop it with a long vest like-jacket overtop that, with dark trousers and leather boots.

“you look lovely, Ms. (y/n), are you ready for dinner?” the master complimented, then asked, a smile on his lips as you nodded, allowing him to wander over and pick you up, your legs feeling like pins as you attempted to move them to get situated in his arms. You sighed at the feeling, knowing you had pushed your body too far today and would be either bedridden for the next few days, or carried everywhere.

If the master was the one to carry you though, you weren’t sure if that was such a bad thing. You huffed at the thought, forcing it away as the master walked out of your room, Mrs. Swift closing the door behind him and following him to the grand dining room, where it was set up for a grand dinner, a two wonderfully cooked hogs set in the middle of the table, ready to be carved and served.

“Smells wonderful” you muttered, tucking your chin into your chest as the master chuckled, his voice vibrating in your ear. He set you down near the head of the table and went to talk with his butler, Mr. Fields if you remembered correctly; after a few moments he walked back over to you and told you that everyone would be down soon, he didn’t want to make you a spectacle by arriving last with you.

You smiled, thanking him quietly, you really didn’t like being made the center of attention; especially when it related to something you couldn’t control. Soon the rest of the girls came flooding into the dining room, Serena and Kalista quickly sitting on either side of you, giving you knowing(teasing) grins as you sank into your seat; feeling your ears and cheeks heat up as the master went to stand at the head of the table, only two chairs down.

As soon as everyone was sat, the master clapped his hands together, his gaze running across the 7 girls, all hoping to be chosen to be the Alexander bride. “once again, I thank you all for coming. As you all know, Lady Marian Alexader, passed a few months ago; and as per the contract your ancestors made so many moons ago-I am in need of a new Alexander bride.” The girls all glanced amongst each other, giggling at the prospect of being his bride, but you kept your eyes on him, and he looked back; furrowing his brows as he heard a slight wheeze as you breathed. “of which, over the next week, I will make my selection. Do not be afraid to show who you truly are and what your passions are, I will make my choice this next Monday, eight days after today.”

One day for each potential bride to make their ‘argument’ to the master. There were 7 of you, and starting tomorrow, he would begin his…well, his interviews with each girl. You hoped your current flare-up wouldn’t develop into something more. You sighed to yourself, knowing you probably just jinxed yourself. You jumped slightly, doing your best to cover your surprised cough in your elbow as the Master clapped his hands again.

Serena patted your back, giving you a comforting smile as you looked at her bashfully, knowing you had drawn attention to yourself by coughing in the middle of the master's speech. Some girls-who didn’t know of your many illnesses- glared at you, while the others just gave you smiles like Serena, quietly telling you it was okay and you weren’t embarrassing yourself or them.

The master had looked at you for a long moment, furrowing his brows as he heard your breath continue to wheeze and struggle-just like it had upon your arrival. He cleared his throat quietly, looking back towards the other girls “tonight, we dine together, tomorrow, I dine with one of you-as shall I dine with each of you on each night.” He held out his hands towards the feast laid on the table, the first of many meals of the week “please, eat.”

With that, the table burst into chatter, butlers and maids moving forward to help the girls fill their plates; you were distracted attempting to get some air back in your lungs-not wanting to deal with an asthma attack right now. You smiled as Serena set a few slices of the roasted hog on your plate, along with your favorite sides; smiling brightly as you thanked her.

“Honestly I’m surprised you remembered which part of the hog I liked” you muttered to her, laughing as she gave you a very sister-like ‘duh’ look. “And why would I forget? It’s the part I don’t like” she giggled, stealing one of your roasted carrots and popping it in her mouth, laughing as you sneakily tossed a dried cranberry at her.

While you feasted, you glanced back at the master, seeing his plate only having meat and stuffing, his cup filled with a wine that smelled-different than any you had before. You ignored it, knowing what the master was. A demon-many called him; by those outside the village the castle rested over, but to the families, he was near a savior, one who had protected them from war and famine over the last few centuries. It would make sense for him to have only meat and ‘wine’ as his meal, you never thought vampires would be interested in vegetables or fruits.

By the end of dinner, everyone was sated and antsy for the events to come, glancing between the master and their almost empty plates; wondering what would happen after dessert was served. Which-was about now, a tray full of pastries, tarts, and pies being carried into the room, the girls making their selection of the spread.

Your eyes locked onto the custard pie. Walter caught your gaze and gestured for it to be set on your plate before anyone else could snatch it. Carla looked a bit disappointed but didn’t speak of her loss, happily taking a blueberry tart instead.

You hummed happily as you took a bite of the custard pie, dancing in your seat slightly as the table burst into chatter again, feeling eyes on you as you ate. You looked towards the feeling, seeing the master looking at you over his chalice, his brow perked with interest. You felt your cheeks flush and you looked back down at your plate, puffing your cheeks as Kalista gave you a teasing smirk.

Soon the master announced that you all had the rest of the night free and were free to explore the castle, but you were all warned to avoid the north wing as that was where his other two brides were(along with the currently unoccupied Alexader suite), and he wanted to avoid any…events. You knew he meant the Klopstock bride, Viktoria, you had met the current Billington bride once, when you were younger, and she was quite nice.

Everyone nodded and soon dispersed, leaving you alone at the table with the master and Serena “Do you need help up to your room?” Serena asked, pushing in her chair and pulling yours out, fully willing to carry you back up to your room.

You hummed, nodding slightly, your legs still felt like pins, and it would be agony to walk. Serena nodded back, about to help you stand when the master stepped next to your chair “Allow me, please” he said with a smile, bowing his head as Serena skipped back with a grin directed down at you. “Of course Lord Deville, goodnight (y/n)~” she sang, skipping off to join Kalista in exploring the castle.

You huffed at her, turning back to the master with a rapidly beating heart, clearing your throat in an attempt to get rid of the wheeze coming from your chest. “May I?” he asked again, his arms reaching towards you. “you may” you whispered back, lifting your arms to wrap around his shoulders as his hands curled around your back and knees, easily lifting you and carrying you back to your room, gently setting you back on your bed and stepping back as you got comfortable.

“If you need anything, just call out, there's always someone awake around here.” the master said with a polite bow of his head, smiling softly as you thanked him and waited till he left; letting out a shuddering sigh as his footsteps receded from your room. “oh-my-god” you muttered, patting your heated cheeks.

Nearly for the entirety of dinner-the master had been staring at you. You could count on one hand the times he looked away, but-gods-for the first time in a very long time, you didn’t feel like you were being stared at like an oddity, but out of pure interest. You really count recall the last time you had been looked at like that, other than by your close family or your best friend Grace.

You took a deep breath to regain your senses, shaking your head “Probably heard you wheezing the entire dinner” you grumbled, reaching behind your back and undoing the strings of your dress, slowly and carefully getting undressed; sighing in relief when you were down to your undergarments, that dress was one of your lightest and easiest to wear for your bad days-but still-it was quite tight around the waist area.

“Ms?” you heard Mrs. Swift call out from the other side of the door “Do you need any assistance getting ready for bed?” you looked around, and then down at yourself…yeah-you couldn’t feel your legs and you really didn’t want to sleep in your underwear. “yes please” you called back, sitting up straight as Mrs. Swift stepped in and got straight to work, helping you get changed and setting your dress and undergarments in their proper places.

“Is there anything else you’ll be needing ma’am?” Mrs. Swift asked, her hands clasped in front of her. You nodded slightly, pointing at the fireplace a few feet away from the window and your bed “yes, could-could you possibly have that lit up? I know it was on a few hours ago but” you paused, playing with your fingers “heat helps the flare-ups” Mrs. Swift nodded with a smile and hurried off to gather what she needed to make the fire.

As Mrs. Swift tended to that, you got comfortable in bed, already falling asleep by the time she returned. She made sure the fire was safe, set your blankets right, and quietly made her way out of your room, jumping slightly as she saw the master just down the hall-his head tilted slightly at your door. “She’s settled for the night master Deville” Mrs. Swift whispered, knowing he could easily hear every word. “She’s as comfortable as she can be”

The master let out a low hum, his eyes trained on your bedroom door. “Good, make sure she is for the rest of her stay” the master muttered, turning on his heel to attend to his duties before he turned in for the night. Mrs. Swift nodded-and returned to her duties, checking up on you every once in a while.

The next day was quiet-the master had breakfast with his potential bride of choosing-as he would do for the rest of you; and spent nearly the entire day with her. At one point you adventured off to the library(with Emma and Serena’s help of course), finding the two sitting by the grand window, enjoying a quiet lunch together.

You caught the master's eye when you were on your way out, a thin and well-read book in your hands. The master glanced down at the book and looked pleasantly surprised, a smile crinkling at his eyes-but his attention was diverted back to his present ‘date’ nodding along to the woman's quiet words.

You continued to catch the master's eyes throughout the day, when you were having afternoon tea with Serena and Kalista-seeing him wander in the gardens with his current date, Emmalie-you thought her name was, his eyes looking up to see you, and staying there for a moment before his attention was once again brought back to Emmalie.

Later-you were out in the gardens, giving Emma a chance to rest after practically carrying you around all day(you didn’t want to stay cooped up all week) resting under the shade of a tree, when you felt eyes on you. You looked up, seeing the master looking at you, curiously. You smiled back, waving a bit before going back to the book you had procured from the library.

You heard him walk over to you, his form joining you in the shade “Now that’s a book I haven’t seen in a while, at least to be read by anyone else than I” the master hummed, his head tilted down at you, his eyes almost shining in the shade. You hummed back, carefully folding your finger between the page you had landed on and the cover-closing the book and looking up at the master.

“Well-its one my great aunt, Marian, read to me when I was a babe, I do remember enjoying it, and I very much still do” the master looked pleased, a spark in his eye that wasn’t there a moment before, and hadn’t been there all day oddly enough. “Good, good” the master muttered, glancing over his shoulder “that is one of my favorites as well, a first edition actually-one of the first few prints the author made” you gasped, unable to help the grin on your face as you held the book closer to your chest-a sight that made the master’s shoulders drop a bit, a crinkle coming to his eye.

“That’s amazing” you whispered, looking back down at the book, gently caressing the fine cover. You didn’t see the soft gaze the master was looking down on you with, tilting his head at you curiously. His attention was once again diverted to his date for the day, she was walking out of the manor-clearly looking for him. “well, I have to go” the master muttered, righting his shirt collar-looking down at you again with a smile “I look forward to our day together” you smiled up at him and nodded, telling him the same, watching as he walked away and greeting Emmalie with his arm-leading her off towards the stables.

You hummed, opening the book again and continuing to read-wondering what the master had in store for your ‘date’ day.

The next day you were in bed all day, resting your legs from the last two days, they felt almost numb-yet you felt nothing but pain when you tried to move them. So you settled for reading the book you had procured the day before and regaining your strength, thanking whatever gods were listening for not afflicting you with any illness, those always made you feel like you had been run over by an ox.

When Emma came by to make sure you were comfortable and give you dinner, she giggled a bit as she corrected your blankets “What’s so funny?” you asked her, licking your lips free of sauce as you set down a piece of ham. “Nothing nothing” she hummed, looking back at you with a cheeky grin as she checked the fire “just the master was asking about you~”

You felt your cheeks flush, but convinced yourself and Emma that he was being a good host, it was his right to wonder about the whereabouts of one of his guests. “uhuh, keep telling yourself that my lady, but he did seem very concerned, reminded me of your mother when you have a flare-up” she teased, remembering the furrow of the master's brow when he asked where you had been all day-he hadn’t seen you once, unlike the day before.

When she told him you had been bedridden due to your legs, he only looked more worried, only relaxing when she told him you had gone through this exact situation before and had healed within a day or two with proper rest. You attempted to reach out and smack Emma for telling you such lies-huffing as she skipped out of your reach and took your empty cup, going out to get you a refill.

You sighed, leaning back against your pillows, wincing as you pulled up your legs-shocks of pain going up your thighs and surrounding your knees. You froze as someone knocked on your door-couldn’t have been Emma, she had just left- you called for them to come in, feeling your face flush as the master stepped in, leaving the door open behind him as he took you in.

“Good evening,” the master said, his hands placed behind his back, rocking forward for a moment before he stood straight again “I just, wanted to see how you were doing. I hadn’t seen you all day, your lady’s maid-Emma” he quickly said her name as you narrowed your eyes, she had become family in the last five years she had served you, you saw no point to call her by her title. “Said you were bed-ridden. I just-wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You smiled, tilting your head just so-the master almost mimicked you with the motion “I’ll be fine. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before; just need a few days to let my legs rest.” The master looked deep in thought at your words, his eyes turning down to the book in your hands. “Thank you, for checking on me” The master seemed to snap back into reality, nodding at your words.

“Yes, of course. Would-“ he cleared his throat, pointing at the book, your bookmark having made its place at the end for the 4th time now. “would you like to read something else? I have a few suggestions if you would like?” you beamed, nodding; you would love to read anything from his library-especially since you seemed to have similar tastes in literature.

The master nodded, taking a quick step back “I’ll be right back then” with that, he stepped out of your room and closed the door behind him, his steps quickly fading away from your room-it almost sounded like he was running to get to his library. You giggled to yourself, happily admitting to yourself that his current attitude was very-cute.

Emma was the first to return, setting your refilled cup on the nightstand next to your bed and bowing out as you told her to enjoy the rest of her night “I’ll check up on you in a little bit my lady, goodnight” Emma hummed, closing the door behind her. You grabbed your cup, sipping at it while you finished re-reading the book you had borrowed from the masters library, perking up as his now familiar knock echoed from your door. “Come in” you called, smiling as the master pushed open the door, a small stack of books in his hand. You beamed at the sight, and here you thought he would only get you one.

“I couldn’t just pick one” he chuckled, seeming a bit shy as he walked over to your side and set the books down next to your bed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood tall. “but you should enjoy these, they’re similar to that one” he pointed down at the book in your hands. You hummed, closing the one you had just finished again and setting it aside-picking up the top book from the new stack.

“Thank you, lord Deville; you really didn’t have to do this for me” you hummed, smiling as he shrugged, his hands going behind his back as he leaned forward a bit then stood straight-something you noticed he did when was thinking. “You can just call me Walter, or Walt.” The master-Walter-muttered, almost seeming shy in the way he said it. You giggled a bit, tilting your head “Do the other girls get that privilege?” you teased, feeling a bit brave. Walter just grinned back. “No” and with that, he bowed out, leaving you flustered.

“He did that on purpose.” You muttered to yourself, burying your now very warm face into your new book.

The next few days were about the same as before, you were practically stuck in your room; Emma and Mrs. Swift going in and out to make sure you were comfortable, with some visits from Serena and Kalista, the two soon telling you about their days with the master. Upon the seventh day of the week, you were finally up and around-of course having Emma with you so you didn’t hurt yourself. You quickly got dressed upon waking up that fresh spring morning, and then soon found your way outside, basking in the glow of the warm sun.

You felt compelled to take a nap, the grass underneath you so soft and the sun like a wonderful blanket. But you had only woken up a few hours ago-it wasn’t even nine yet-so you settled for reading one of the last few books Walter had given you, leaning against a large tree as a breeze brushed through your hair.

“There you are,” you looked up, seeing Walter walking towards you, a basket in one hand and a blanket in the other, wearing a soft blue tunic over a greyish top. “Feeling better?” you nodded, stretching your legs out to show him. “Good, hungry?” you nodded again, setting aside your book as Walter got down on the ground next to you and set down the basket-full of breakfast foods-and flared out the blanket.

“A picnic?” you hummed, adjusting yourself to sit on the blanket, leaning on your hand as Walter did the same and began to sift through the basket. “I thought it appropriate since you’ve been stuck inside since the third day, question” Walter perked up, suddenly remembering something, looking at you as he handed you a slice of warmed brown bread.

You hummed, biting into it; nodding for him to ask away “Can you ride a horse?” you laughed, bright and slightly surprised at the question but it was valid, you could only walk for short amounts of time, horse riding took a lot of leg strength, but yes-you could ride. Your horse at home was trained to allow you to ride with minimal use of your legs.

“Yes, yes I can.” You giggled, patting Walter’s knee as he flushed a bit, probably thinking the question was a bit personal or pushy. “I love riding actually” Walter looked relieved at that, taking a small breath as you dug into the breakfast he had unfolded, his eyes looming over to the book you had read about halfway through now.

“How are you liking that one?” Walter asked, pointing at the book, chewing on a piece of bread as you picked the aforementioned item up and shook it about, beaming all the while. “I think it’s wonderful; thank you for suggesting it.” Walter smiled, nodding a bit. “You’re welcome, it’s one of my favorites, I have yet to meet its equal.”

You nodded; you could easily say the same. It was a daring tale of true love and adventure, with a dash of sword fighting and humor to put the cherry on top.

The rest of your morning was filled with quiet talking, mostly about the books you had read over the last few days while being bed-ridden, and you asked if there were any more books he would suggest for you to read before you went back home(even if you were chosen, you would return home for a few months to gather your things and get ready for the wedding). He hummed, rubbing his chin. “I do, most if not all the books I gave you so far are from my personal collection, and I do have a wide arrange of books.” Walter chuckled, leaning back on his palm, smiling as you laughed, happy to know that.

“Would you be willing to let me into that collection and take a pick? You have very good taste and I would love to read more” you asked, leaning towards him and nearly squealing as he nodded, tilting his head just so as you silently celebrated. “We can go after we finish up here if you’d like? If you feel up to it” Walter suggested, grinning as you nodded and began to clean up the mess you and Walter had made during breakfast “I’ll get it darling” you froze as the pet name slipped from Walter’s lips, a name he either didn’t realize or care he called you, quickly cleaning up the blanket and putting the leftovers back inside the basket-helping you stand and curling his arm around your waist as you practically rushed him back inside-eager to see the library again.

He chuckled at that, easily holding you to his side as you ventured to the library, soon guiding you to a quiet corner that was brightly lit with a large chair in the corner, hidden from the rest of the library. There was only one bookshelf, filled with books-there were some spaces but you guessed those were the books Walter had already taken out to give you.

You selected two more, carefully watching Walter’s reaction as you did so-happily taking two mid-sized books that his eyes nearly sparked at. Soon you found yourself outside again, under the shade of a large tree, your legs tossed over Walter’s lap as he rested against the trunk, his eyes nearly closed as you read aloud from the book you had been reading before his arrival.

“The Sicilian returned to the other side of the boat. “She would have screamed,” he said. “She was about to cry out. My plan was ideal as all my plans are ideal. It was the moon's ill timing that robbed me of perfection” he scowled unforgivingly at the yellow wedge above them. Then he stared ahead. “There!” the Sicilian pointed. “The cliffs of insanity.” You giggled as you finished the paragraph, this character certainly was a bit daft-no matter how much ‘thought’ he put into his plans or ego he put into his brain.

Walter smiled at the sound, a sound he would like to hear more often. He opened his eyes, looking at you, your eyes glued to the leather-bound book that was decorated with painted gold, your fingers carefully trailing the words on the well-read page.

You continued to read, and Walter let his eyes fall shut again, one of his hands finding your knee that rested across his lap-enjoying your voice as you read one of his favorite books. Many thought his choice of books would be poetry, dramas, tragedies; things similar to that, but he liked adventure-books filled with passion and knowledge beyond his own. And it now was obvious you liked the same, happily reading anything he suggested-you had even picked out another one of his favorites upon your first visit to his library.

His current brides-Viktoria Klopstock, and Vasilica Billington-didn’t find such joy in reading like he did-it was how he escaped the word as a child and teen, so to finally share that with someone…was a bit…relieving, if he must say. He never quite connected to them as a husband should, he honestly never expected to, their marriages were out of convenience and due to the arrangement the three families had made near 200 years ago now.

But he had a feeling-you would be different. Out of the several potential brides that had come to make their deference, you were the only one to catch his eye, and keep it through the week-like that first day, he had almost been unable to focus on his date with Emmalie in favor of watching you.

Walter sniffed, sitting up against the tree trunk, opening his eyes as your legs moved to slide off his lap, watching as you joined him on the trunk and got comfortable. “That position was starting to hurt” you whispered and Walter hummed, holding back a frown. You had been sitting up with your legs across his lap-maybe for only a few minutes-it shouldn’t hurt you to sit like that.

Soon enough, as you continued to read, your shoulder ended up against his, leaning on him as you dove into the tale the book offered you. Walter licked his lips, a question burning at his lips-and he decided to just go for it. “So-” he started, clearing his throat as his voice cracked ever so slightly, you laughed lightly at the sound, turning him with a raised brow “How long have you been affected by all” he gestured to you and then the air-looking unsure of how to word anything. “this?”

You closed the book, leaning forward slightly and looking up to the cloudy sky, the sun still blanketing the grounds with its warmth. “…I don’t remember a day I wasn’t sick” you whispered, which reached Walter’s ear easily. He frowned, tilting his head slightly “you mean, you’ve always had problems with your health?” he asked, just to clarify. You nodded; your leg issues had come later in life-but only due to you not using them as much as you should’ve in your developmental years. But your breathing and basic health had always been weak.

“When I was a child, sometimes the slightest thing would cause me to be Ill for weeks on end, I don’t really remember a time I wasn’t sick.” You muttered, laying your legs flat and huffing, feeling your lungs wheeze with the effort to keep them full of air. “I haven't run since I was five, by that time I could never get enough air to pace myself and my legs were already starting to go awry.”

Walter stared at you, his unbeating heart hurting for you. He knew he could help-if he chose you, if you accepted his proposal-just one drop of his blood would give you the life you had missed out on, your lungs would no longer need air, and your legs would feel brand new. You shook your head, laughing a bit “listen to me, rambling away about my problems. I shouldn’t.”

“I asked” Walter pushed, reaching up and tucking a stray hair behind your ear, smiling softly as you glanced at him. He looked away first, licking his lips and leaning forward a bit before he asked another question “What would you do? If you were chosen? And became one of us?” you blinked, twice, three times, then sighed, a wistful smile on your face.

“I would run as fast as I could” that’s what you really wanted to do. To run, to feel the wind in your hair, your arms pumping at your sides as your feet hit the ground-with no worry that you would be in so much pain the next hour. You said as such to Walter, who stared at you with eyes that were growing softer by the minute. For a moment, you almost thought it was pity-you had seen it all your life-but it wasn’t; you couldn't tell what it was, not yet.

“Good answer” Walter whispered, looking up at the sun and nodding to himself, standing and holding out his hand to you “shall we have some lunch?” you nodded, feeling just a bit lighter getting that not-so-deep secret off your chest-taking his hand and letting him help you up-leaning into his side as he guided you towards the stables.

“Where are we going?” you asked, sitting down as Walter got out a set of horses, one deep black and the other a russet brown. Walter helped you onto the brown one, apparently named Belle. “There's a lake a few miles away from here, I set up another picnic for us there” he patted the basket resting on his horse’s saddle-presumably filled with the picnic he mentioned. “it's quite beautiful at night as well, you can see everything”

You smiled, tilting your head a bit “Another picnic?....I don’t think I’ve spent a night outside in quite a while, me and cold don’t really mix well” Walter paused, shit he hadn’t thought of that. “I’ll make sure to keep you warm then.” he said in response, mentally thanking his past self for packing extra blankets and for there being a fire pit close to where he had planned the picnic. You laughed at his words, flushing a bit “Are you flirting?”

“Why, is it working?” Walter teased, smiling as you giggled, he climbed into his horse and grabbed the reins, turning to look at you over his shoulder “Come along now, before the food gets cold” you hummed, snapping the reins of your horse and it followed Walter. You admired the forest you rode through as Walter led you to the lake on a well-taken path, and soon you arrived at the lake-the sun beaming down on its still surface-the forest surrounding it evergreen and lush, at a small curve-sat a picnic-resting just near a firepit, along with a few books.

“More books?” you gasped, laughing as Walter just shrugged “hey, I like to read just as you.” He shot back, a smile on his lips as you continued to laugh loudly-dropping as you suddenly wheezed and coughed, Belle stopping in her tracks as you doubled over. Walter quickly dismounted, rushing over to you and getting you off of Belle before you fell, a panic in his eyes as you pressed your hand to your chest and struggled to breathe.

“What-what do I do?” Walter nearly yelped, feeling so foolish for not asking Emma how to help you through a breathing attack-and for going so far out from help. You just grabbed his hand, scrunching your nose for a moment as you attempted to regain control of your breathing. The horses rumbled nervously, Belle taking several steps away as Walter held you tight to his chest.

In the minutes that passed-which felt like several panic-filled hours to Walter-you took several deep controlled breaths, closing your eyes as you let yourself fall into Walter’s arms, feeling suddenly very exhausted from the attack. “Did I do that?” Walter asked as everything calmed down. You shook your head, patting his arm as he walked you over to the blanket.

“They come on randomly sometimes-that wasn’t the worst I’ve had-but when I laugh hard-It can cause one, so-I try to control myself usually” you muttered, and Walter felt guilty at being the reason for your laughter. You smiled up at him “Please don’t” you could see the guilt in his eyes and stiff body “it’s not your fault” you tugged him down to sit with you, leaning on his shoulder “I could feel it coming on anyways, this time It just had a trigger.” Walter hummed, looking out onto the lake, drumming his fingers against the blanket.

When he remembered the food, he left your side for a moment, tying the horses to a tree that rested near the lake-letting them rest and get some water, soon returning with the food and the book you had been reading earlier-though this time, he let you eat as he continued where you left off, his voice soothing as you settled down.

“Will you promise not to hurt him” Buttercup whispered. “What was that?” The prince said. “what was that?” Westley said. Buttercup took a step forward and said; “if we surrender, freely and without struggle, if life returns to what it was one dusk ago, will you swear not to hurt this man?” Prince Humperdinck raised his right hand: “I swear on the grave of my soon-to-be-dead father and the soul of my already dead mother that I shall not hurt this man, and if I do, may I not hurt again though I live a thousand years.” Buttercup turned to Westley. “There,” she said “you can’t ask for more than that, and that is the truth”

“The truth,” said Westley, “is that you would rather live with your prince than die with your love.” “I would rather live than die, I admit it” “We were talking about love, madam” There was a long pause. Then buttercup said it: “I can live without love”

There was a sound of pain from beside Walter, and he looked to it, seeing you lying next to him-looking back up with shocked eyes. “She rejects him? after all he did for her?” you asked, having never read this story before. Walter hummed, nodding slightly “She does, I admit when I first read it-I nearly threw the book” Walter chuckled, flipping to the next page-seeing it was the end of the current chapter. “but things get better, I assure you”

You hummed, closing your eyes and letting yourself fall back to that space between sleep and life, Walter’s body heat and the fire he lit as the sun began to dim keeping you warm. Soon a blanket joined you, and Walter continued to read, his hand finding the small of your back as you curled up next to him-enjoying his voice and the tale.

Walter looked up as he noticed the painted skies turning pink that blended with blue and orange. He glanced down beside him, you were asleep-your hand clutching the blanket that covered you-your face shadowed by the flickering fire that kept you warm. He marked his spot on the book and set it to the side, brushing your hair away from your face and whispering he would be back.

Within the blink of an eye, he was gone-and only two blinks later-he returned, with a new basket of food. He set out the meal he had prepared by his personal cook and shook you gently, leaning back on his heels as you slowly woke up, a slow wheezing breath escaping your lips. “Oh,” you whispered, rubbing your eyes as you sat up, seeing the steaming food that sat on the blanket “thank you”

Walter hummed, working on a piece of lamb as you grabbed some bread and meat-about to grab the book again when Walter beat you to it, winking as he opened it when he left off and continued to read, adjusting himself as you leaned against him, reading alongside him as you ate.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Inigo said. “Get his mouth as wide open as you can and tilt his head back a little and we’ll drop it in and see.” Fezzik worked at the dead man’s mouth a while, got it the way Inigo said, tilted the neck perfect the first time, and Inigo knelt directly above the cavity, dropped the pill down, and as it hit the throat he heard, “Couldn’t be me alone, you dastards; well, I beat you each apart, I’ll beat you both together.” “you’re alive!” Fezzik cried. The man in black sat immobile, like a ventriloquist’s dummy, just his mouth moving. “that is perhaps the most childishly obvious remark I have ever come across, but what can you expect from a strangler. Why won't my arms move?”

“You’ve been dead,” Inigo explained. “And we’re not strangling you,” Fezzik explained, “we were just getting the pill down” “the resurrection pill,” Inigo explained “I bought it from miracle max and it works for sixty minutes” “what happens after sixty minutes? Do I die again? (it wasn’t sixty minutes; he just thought it was. Actually, it was forty; only they had used up one already in conversation, so it was down to thirty-nine.)”

“We don’t know. Probably you just collapse and need tending for a year or however long it takes to get your strength back” “I wish I could remember what it was like when I was dead,” the man in black said. “I’d write it down. I could make a fortune on a book like that. I can't move my legs either” “that will come. It’s suppose to. Max said the tongue and the brain were shoo-ins and probably you’ll be able to move, but slowly.” “the last thing I remember was dying, so I am I on this wall? Are we enemies? Have you got names? I’m the dread pirate Roberts, but you can call me ‘Westly’.”

“Fezzik.” “Inigo Montoya of Spain. Let me tell you what's going on-“ he stopped and shook his head “No’ he said, “there's too much, it would take too long, let me distill it for you; the wedding is at six, which leaves us probably now something over half an hour to get in, steal the girl, and get out; but not before I kill count Rugen.”

“What are our liabilities” “there is but one working castle gate and it is guarded by perhaps a hundred men” “hmmm,” Westly said, not as unhappy as he might have been ordinarily because just then he began to be able to wiggle his toes.”

As Walter read on, the night crawled forward-the stars and moon illuminating the lake. At some point, he found himself lying next to you, the still strong fire -which he had made sure to keep attending to- guiding his eyes to the words on the page, his voice lulling you back to sleep, and for the first time in a long time-you slept under the stars.

Walter looked up at some point, seeing the crescent moon high above-the stars decorating the inky sky around it. He reached towards you gently, shaking you awake “Darling wake up,” he whispered, nodding towards the sky “look” you mumbled for a moment, wondering what he wanted when you saw it; in the sky-were the stars of course- but along that was a paint streak of glowing white and purples, mixing with the stars above and swirling about in the sky.

Walter chuckled at your reaction, bringing you close as you both sat up, his cheek against yours-the warmth of the fire on his skin melting into yours, his arm supporting your back. “one of my favorite times of the night, when the milky way is visible” Walter whispered, barely audible to your ears-but you smiled at his words, following his hand as he pointed out constellations in the sky-you had loved the night since you were child-unable to see it unless it was summer…and even then.

Walter got up for a moment to tend to the fire and soon was settled next to you again, this time his arm was wrapped fully around you, his body, the fire, and the blanket keeping you perfectly warm-though your legs had gone numb a bit ago. “I have a question for you” Walter whispered, and you hummed, leaning into his shoulder as you looked up at the stars. “What is it you want with your life?”

You snorted, turning to him slightly “Going there huh?” Walter hummed, glancing off to the side, a smile on his lips “mm, never mastered small talk” you snorted again, you had noticed-most of your conversations had involved books or delving deeper into yourselves. You licked your lips as you thought of your answer-but…all you could think of was-what you wouldn’t be able to do.

“I…I really never thought of how to answer that…” you muttered, eyes down casting to the lake-staring at the reflection of the moon and stars. Walter turned his head to look at you, watching you intently as you played with your fingers “I’ve been told since I was young that I wouldn’t have a full life, even knowing that we have tripled lives thanks to the contract” Walter hummed, but didn’t interrupt, letting you talk. “so, I suppose I never-thought of what to do…since-it wouldn’t matter in the end-I would be dead before I could do anything. But-“ you huffed, looking back up at the sky, feeling your nose burn and throat ache.

“if-if I could; I would read all there is to read, I would study the stars, I would run through forests, dance till I dropped, laugh in the rain knowing it wouldn’t get me deathly ill-I would live life to its fullest-enjoy every passing moment as if it was my last-which I do try to do but…” you sighed, a tear slipping past your cheek “When you’re reminded every day that, by your own body, that you won't live much longer-that you won’t walk that day, or won't talk-or sleep soundly, or even breathe…it’s hard to do that….you know” you bit your lip, bearing your soul to Walter. “it’s getting harder to wake up now-adays…” Walter jolted a bit at that, his eyes going wide “and-I go to bed each night, wishing everyone goodnight-not knowing if I’ll wake up the next day.” Walter stared, if he had a heart-he was sure it would crack for you.

Walter closed his eyes, took a deep breath, paused for a moment, then sighed. He turned, kneeling in front of you-taking your hands that were freezing at the fingers. You blinked at him, feeling one of his hands wipe away your tears. “if I may” he whispered, his eyes reflecting the stars above “This is a bit-different from how I’ve done it in the past. Usually there's a whole courting stage and a proper announcement and public thing-but” he waved his hand, looking over the grandeur of it all. He looked back into your eyes, tilting your chin up just so. “I have never felt-so connected-with any other bride, potential or otherwise” you furrowed your brows, wondering what he was doing before it hit you.

He was proposing. Holy shit-he was choosing you!? For what reason, you didn’t know-maybe he was pitying you? You didn’t want him to pity you, you had been pitied your whole life-by your parents, Emma, doctors, extended family-everyone. You didn’t want Walter to only see what you lacked-to see your imperfections. “Are you doing this out of pity?” you whispered, and Walter stopped, then furrowed his brows.

“I admit-there was some pity at the start” he whispered, shifting so he sat on his knees “I saw just a frail little thing in my castle-unable to stand on her own-needing help to even walk. But now I see you; your undeniable strength, the courage you have to face the day as if you don’t stare death in his eyes” you could feel the tears returning, unexpecting such words from Walter. “I wish to give you the life you should’ve had, the life you deserve. To run with the wind, to be unafraid to go to sleep, to read every book in the world, and then some-I wish to give you everlasting life, ne’er to face sickness or pain ever again.”

He took your hands at his, holding them to his chest, looking into your weeping eyes. “So I ask you this, Lady (y/n) Alexander. Will you do me the honor, and become my bride? Become Lady Alexander-Deville? i promise you to extend my library, so it will take you a hundred years just to read half, and I will run with you whenever you wish, and spend as many nights with you outside when the moon is bright and the stars shine brighter.”

You sobbed, tucking your chin into your chest, and Walter feared he had scared you off with such a promise and declaration-such things he would make sure to do if you accepted his proposal-he just hoped to whoever was listening; that his powers-his gift to you-would heal you of your physical plights. Finally, after a few moments, you looked back up at him, a bright beaming slime that rivaled the moon looking back at him ”I accept your proposal, Master Deville, thank you” you cried, sobbing into his shoulder as he kissed your hands and held you close, turning you close to the fire to warm you back up, as the blanket at fallen from your shoulders during his proposal.

As the midnight chill began to set into the forest-Walter quickly packed everything up and extinguished the dying fire-picking you up and setting on his horse-getting on behind you and grabbing Bell’s reigns. “what bestows me the honor of riding with you?” you giggled, a flush strong in your cheeks as Walter wrapped his arms around you, the blanket from earlier curled around your shoulders to keep you warm.

“It’s too cold to ride alone, don’t want you getting sick” Walter muttered into your ear-smirking as you giggled again, leaning against his chest as he set back towards the castle. By the time you returned-it was well past midnight, Walter set the horses into their stalls and carried you into the castle-the book the two of you had been reading resting on your stomach as you rested your cheek on Walter’s shoulder-your arms tossed around his neck.

You were nearly asleep when he stepped into your room, setting you on your bed and taking the book from you and setting it on your nightstand-before lighting the fire and closing your windows-taking a slow breath as he looked back at you, your bleary eyes looking back, with a soft smile on your lips “I’ll go fetch Emma, sleep well darling” Walter whispered, leaning over you and kissing your head, grazing your chin with his fingers before he stepped away and out of your room, pausing as you told him to do the same. He smiled at you, nodding a bit “As you wish” with that-he closed the door.

And you had to muffle your scream with a pillow.

You thanked the gods for giving you such a miracle when you woke up the next day-feeling refreshed, your legs were still a bit numb but that was normal, but you felt no clog in your nose or tickle at the back of your throat. You hadn’t gotten sick from the previous night. You silently celebrated in your bed-shifting so you sat on the edge, groaning as you stretched and your back popped wonderfully.

You jumped as your door suddenly opened-two woman walking into your room-one was about your height with long golden red hair, wearing a soft purple dress that hung off her shoulders-the other was tall, dark and terrifying, her black eyes trained on you like a hawk. “good morning~!” the redhaired one said, sitting at the end of your bed and leaning towards you, her fangs on full display.

They must’ve been the Billington and Klopstock brides- Viktoria and Vasilica. “uh-hello?” you nearly squeaked, your shoulders arching up as Viktoria stared you down, almost staying in the shadows as Vasilica practically invaded your personal space. “The master told us, everything-so, welcome to the family lady Alexander~” Vasilica sang, her bright and cheery personality a strong opponent of Viktoria, who hadn’t said a word this entire time.

“uh, thank you?” you muttered, you had only accepted the night before-so you wondered when Walter had told them of it. You looked outside then, frowning as you saw the sun was quite high in the sky. “what time is it?” Vasilica hummed, pursing her lips a bit as she looked out the window with you. “just before noon I think-the master wanted to let you sleep in, but we wanted to invite you for brunch, if you would like?” you nodded with a small smile, watching as Vasilica jumped up and beamed “Wonderful~! Let’s go then, the master waits for us outside.” She turned about to walk out of the room when Viktoria stopped her-noticing you hadn’t moved from your spot.

“Something wrong?” Viktoria said quietly, her eyes trained on you. like Walter, she could smell the sickness that clung to you, the pain in your bones; she wondered why the master would pick such a weak bunny like you, instead of the healthier girls of the bunch. You flinched back at her eyes, fiddling with your fingers “uh-my-my legs don’t work as well as others do-it’s hard for me to walk on my own” you whispered, looking down at your legs, which hung limply off the bed and felt numb.

“Oh!” Vasilica said with a shocked face-apparently Walter had neglected to tell them your lack of properly working legs “oh that’s not a big deal, come I’ll carry you!” she took a step forward, her hands reaching towards you, and you were about to ask her if you could get dressed first-when the master, Walter, stepped into the room. “I see you have all met,” he said quietly, leaning on the doorway. Viktoria nodded stiffly as Vasilica beamed. “I’m sure (y/n) wouldn’t mind you carrying her dear, but it think she needs to get dressed first.” Vasilica looked at you, then at Walter, chuckling a bit “i suppose she does” Vasilica muttered with a shy smile, skipping out of the room with Viktoria slowly following her.

Walter grabbed her arm before Viktoria could fully exit, turning to her with dark eyes-eyes you hadn’t seen before; full of warning and death. “let me warn you now Viktoria. Be nice. Or I will have no hesitation in holding another Klopstock wedding after so long.” Viktoria looked shocked, glancing between you and Walter before she sniffed and tore her arm from his grip-storming off after Vasilica.

Walter huffed, turning back to you with a soft smile “Apologies. She gets…cruel, if she acts as such to you, please tell me-you shouldn’t suffer in a place where you should be respected.” You smiled back at him, nodding, biting the inside of your lip as he stepped towards you and took your hand, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll send Emma up to help you get dressed, I’ll be back to escort you to brunch” you nodded again, squeezing his hand a bit as he smiled down at you.

About 10 minutes later-you were dressed and waiting for Walter-reading more of the book as you did; continuing on from the part you had fallen asleep on. “The Count went for the quick kill, the inverse Bonetti. No chance. “Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya; you killed my father…prepare to die” Again they crossed, and the Count moved into a Morozzo defense, because the blood was still streaming. Inigo shoved his fist deeper into himself. “Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya; you killed my father; prepare to die.” The count retreated around the billiard table. Inigo slipped his own blood. The count continued to retreat, waiting, waiting. “Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father; prepare to die.” He dug with his fist and he didn’t want to think what he was touching and pushing and holding into place but for the first time he felt able to try a move, so the six-fingered sword flashed forward-and there was a cut down one side of count Rugen’s cheek-another flash-another cut, parallel, bleeding-“ A knock at your door and you closed the book-marking your place as you sat up straight, smiling as Walter, your now fiancé, stepped in. “ready?” he asked, smiling as he saw the book. You nodded, holding the book to your chest as he walked towards you, one arm cradling your back and shoulders-the other going under your knees; easily lifting you up and carrying you out to the gardens-where brunch was set up.

Walter set you down on the left side of his chair-Viktoria on his right while Vasilica sat on the other end of the table, on your left. “I love your dress” Vasilica complemented, and you smiled, looking down at your blue and silver tunic dress, pulling at your white sleeves before you looked back at her-telling her the same for her purple dress. She beamed, looking towards Walter with a clear emotion in her eyes ‘I like her’ they read.

He smirked back, sipping at his deep red ‘wine’. You leaned back as a plate full of food was set in front of you, smiling at what you saw- French toast, fruits, pastries, meat; your favorites. You turned to see who had set the plate-seeing Emma winking at you, taking her place back with the other handmaidens and Mr. Fields. Similar plates were set in front of Walter and the other brides, though they had more ham included with theirs. “So,” you stared, picking up a piece of toast and ripping off a smaller piece “do any of the other girls know I've been chosen?” Walter shook his head, setting his glass down and grabbing a strawberry.

“Not yet-I’ll be announcing it tonight at the group dinner, Viktoria and Vasilica will be joining us as well. I’ve already sent a letter to your parents telling them the news, they should get it just before they start heading up here.” you nodded, licking your lips free of fruit juice as you grabbed your cup. “And-what’s the plan after tonight?” you asked next, leaning back in your chair as Walter set down his glass and grabbed a small leather-bound book, undoing the leather strip keeping it closed, and setting the pen aside.

“you’ll be heading home with your parents for two months after they arrive, gathering all you wish to bring back over here, then-of course- you’ll come back and move into the Alexander suite, and it’s customary there is a courting period even if I have already proposed, which is four months, and during that we will plan for the wedding.” He snapped the book closed and set it aside, looking towards you with an assuring smile “of course-all of this aligns if your health is steady, I do not mind waiting a bit longer, or even speeding things along if you need to.”

You nodded, smiling as you felt his free hand grab yours under the table-squeezing it lightly. “so, (y/n)” Viktoria spoke up, her voice slow and calculating. Vasilica and Walter glanced at her, both warning her to be nice. “What is it you like to do?” you blinked-not expecting that question. “oh um,” you stuttered, rubbing the back of your neck “i-I like to read? I’ve practically already read half of Walter’s personal library” you laughed, Vasilica beaming at your words. “oh wonderful, I’m-well-I never learned to read-so I’m glad someone other than the master has a use for that library.”

“Going to be expanding it actually” Walter mentioned, Vasilica cooed at the idea and your heart fluttered at the memory of his promise to expand as such to where it would take you 100 years to read half of it. “wonderful, more books and dust” Viktoria muttered, sipping at her ‘wine’. Walter just rolled his eyes, turning back to you with a smile “im sure (y/n) and I will keep the dust away, right darling?” you flushed at the name, but nodded, eyes drawing to the book that rested beside your cup. You really wanted to finish it-you just got to the truly exciting part. Though you were sure Walter had nearly finished it by the time he showed you the stars.

“Anything else? Or are you just a book-worm?” Viktoria asked, a near sneer on her lips. Walter quickly banished it with a glare. You tiled your head, shrugging a bit “I like to ride? Oh and uh-drawings something I dabble in…oh-my brothers are knights and I’ve always liked watching them train and compete” you shrugged again, honestly you liked doing a lot of things-but-once you thought about it-they were hard to describe.

Viktoria just hummed, tilting her head slightly “Due to your… condition, you don’t do much, do you?” you shook your head, not noticing the side-eye Walter was giving Viktoria. “no, not really-just an unfortunate effect to me. I wish I could do more-but I hardly have the energy to get out of bed sometimes.” There it was, there was the pity, in both Vasilica’s and Viktoria’s eyes, though there was much more sympathy in Vasilica’s than Viktoria’s gaze.

“then for your sake, I hope the exchange at the wedding will do your body good” Viktoria hummed, sounding like a compliment yet her eyes told you otherwise. Walter sighed and pinched his nose “play nice” he muttered to Viktoria, and she hummed back with a smirk “always” she said, reaching forward and brushing her hand through Walter’s chin-length locks. He blinked at her, allowing her to do so but turned back to you.

You supposed you would have to get used to being one of 3 brides, which, hopefully, wouldn’t be too hard-you had never expected to be a bride at all. “now,” Walter started, licking his lips “we should probably tell you the darker details of this marriage, and what will happen upon our wedding” Walter reached up, taking your hand, looking into your eyes “as you should know, we are vampires” you nodded “and you should know we consume human blood to sustain ourselves, but we do also eat human food to keep energy and strength.” You nodded again, looking down at their plates, which mostly matched yours. “which means-you will also have to drink blood, human blood.”

You could feel your stomach turn-you knew about their true natures since you were younger-but to now know you would be involved in it-made you a bit queasy. “Does animal blood not work?” Vasilica shook her head at your question “no, I tried, it’s like you drank nothing. it must be human blood” she said, leaning forward on the table, watching as Viktoria took a sip of her ‘wine’, her eyes on you.

Walter turned his attention back to you “now, we mostly have our blood in cups” he lifted his cup of ‘wine’. “but once in a while, we do require fresh prey, so-sometimes, you will need to feed on a live, or freshly dead, human.” You swallowed harshly, licking your lips as your stomach continued to turn.

"Do I get a choice of who I feed on?” you asked quietly, and Walter nodded. You felt a small bit of relief at that, you could make sure your prey wasn’t someone who didn’t deserve it. “I understand this is a lot to take it, and this is why there's such a long period between now and the wedding, to give you time to adjust to the circumstances,” Walter said, bringing your hand to his lips.

You nodded, it would take time for you to get…used to the idea of killing people for food, but you supposed it would get easier with time, or once you were transformed-the guilt would leave you. Only time would tell. “okay, okay I can deal with that” you whispered, smiling as Walter kissed your hand again. “wonderful, now-“ he released your hand-gesturing to your plate “eat, you’ll need your strength”

You did as asked, opening the book to read as you finished your food-the other girls now conversing with Walter as you distracted yourself with the awaited showdown between Inigo and Count Rugen.

You sat nearly pin straight as Emma finished pinning your hair, an intricate red crystal necklace being clipped to your neck via Mrs. Swift. “There you go deary,” Mrs. Swift said, resting her hands on your shoulders as you looked into the mirror that sat upon the vanity. You tilted your head to the side, seeing the gold earring that hung from your ears, complimenting the deep red of your gown. You had been told-as was tradition-the Deville brides wore red. “I’m happy for you my lady, it’s been an honor to serve you,” Emma said, tears in her eyes. You turned to her, taking her hand with a smile.

“Like hell I would give you up easily” you laughed, scrunching your nose as Emma shook her head, sniffing as she squeezed your hand. “you’ve been by my side for the last five years, and have been wonderfully understanding of all my conditions; if anything-I’ll have you visit once in a while. You’ve been my best friend Emma. I won’t let you leave without a fight”

Emma cooed, hugging you tight and pushing her cheek against yours “Thank you, (y/n)” you thanked her back, holding her as tight as you could before another butler knocked at the door, saying everyone was ready. You nodded, grabbing Emma’s hand and using her arm to help you stand.

Mrs. Swift stood on your other side, a butler walking behind you as you made your way to the grand dining room-pausing at the doors, two butlers standing on each side. You could barely hear Walter from the other side of the thick wooden doors. “-as you all know, I took each day of this week to get to know each and every one of you, to help me make my choice of my Alexander bride. I assume, due to who is missing from this table, you know who I have chosen-and please I know, I chose out of her attributes and reasons of my own, not due to any of your faults. Now-may I please announce, my new Bride; Lady (y/n) Alexander."

And with that, the doors opened, and you saw everyone staring at you, Serena and Kalista looking absolutely ecstatic for you-only two looked disappointed-so you counted yourself lucky as not to encounter any nastiness. You noticed Walter holding out his hand to you, and you could feel Emma holding you tight as you help you walk to him. but you took a deep breath and stepped away from her, joining Walter at his side and taking his hand, smiling as he looked pleasantly surprised. “wrap this up though that hurt like a bitch” you whispered into his ear as he tucked you into his side, he laughed gently and nodded.

He quickly turned, and you saw a set of chairs that sat behind a decorated table, one just a bit taller than the other. He guided you to sit next to the taller one, and then stayed at your side, one hand on your shoulder as you sat up straight, smiling at Serena who was struggling to hold her excitement.

Walter continued to talk but you were hardly listening, looking about the room-seeing Vasilica and Viktoria at the head of the long table, Vasilica was beaming and clapping along with the rest of the girls as Walter’s hand squeezed your shoulder gently, while Viktoria politely clapped, her eyes boring into your soul. You looked away first, turning as you saw Walter take a glass full of deep red liquid, Viktoria and Vasilica being handed the same “charge your glasses” Walter said, and everyone raised their drinks into the air, all looking to you and Walter “To (y/n),” he turned to look down at you, smiling as he did, his hand still gently squeezing your shoulder “my new bride”

“To (y/n)!” you looked up at Walter, reaching up and squeezing his hand back, smiling as his smile turned to a wide grin. “May the bridemaidens rejoice” Mr. Fields called out, the girls all calling back with raised glasses to you “The bridemaidens rejoice.”

With that, everyone took a drink and Walter soon took a seat next to you, setting his glass down and leaning towards you. “everything okay?” he asked quietly, tilting his head slightly. You smiled back at him, reaching up to cup his cheek, looking into his bright blue eyes “everything's perfect” you whispered back, taking the chance and pecking his cheek “Thank you Master Deville”

He smiled, taking your hand and kissing your palm before leaning back in his seat, everyone beginning to eat.

Time flew by during the two months you returned home, your brothers barely letting you out of their sight. It was a bit-jarring-to see your room practically empty by the time you were set to make the journey back to Deville castle, your bookcase was empty, and all your dresses were packed away-minus the ones you were going to wear on the way to the castle.

To think-in only one week, your life had changed drastically, and soon-in about four months-you wouldn’t be human anymore. And maybe-just maybe-you would be able to run the grounds of the castle without collapsing from pain. You smiled at the thought, holding the book you had read over and over again through the last two months; Walter had let you keep it after seeing how much you loved it-and you might’ve grabbed his face and kissed his cheek heavily at the gesture.

You still giggled at remembering his shocked face-if he had the ability to blush he would’ve.

You turned at a knock on your door, calling for them to come in, smiling as you saw your mother and oldest brother step through-his hair a wild mess thanks to his helmet. “just get back from training?” you teased, reaching up as he rolled his eyes, leaning down to let you ruffle/fix his hair. You pulled back; feeling the grime in his hair “Ewwww did you even wash up before coming to see me? You trying to get me sick?” your brother cackled and rolled his eyes, fake sneezing at you and you screeched, weakly pushing him away.

“Oh you two, stop it” your mother laughed, walking about your room and finishing up packing for you. “the carriage is outside (y/n), he just wanted to say goodbye” your bother snorted, crossing his arms and turning to your mother “Goodbye? I’m going with her, gotta make sure she gets there safe and sound.”

“And to threaten Walter?” you groaned, unable to keep the smile off your face as your bother ruffled your hair, sharply grinning down at you “Of course,” he said, almost dramatically holding his hand to his chest “I have to make sure the master is going to be good to my baby sister” you rolled your eyes at him, slapping his hand away and letting him pick you up, your mother close behind as he walked you out to the carriage. It would be about a week's travel to Deville castle, and you hoped to the gods you wouldn’t catch something on the way.

You waved goodbye to your parents and other brother, who had to stay to finish his current training, Emma sitting at your side while your eldest brother-Justin- rode alongside the carriage. “keep her safe Justin!” your mother called as the carriage set off. He told them he would, turning to face the road as you watched your childhood home disappear behind the trees and hills.

When you arrive, Walter was waiting for you, meeting your brother's gaze for a moment before he quickly walked towards the barely stopping carriage-opening the door and bowing his head to you “we meet again, lady (y/n)” Walter said, holding his hands out to you as Emma helped you stand and maneuver yourself into your fiancé’s arms. “hi” you whispered back, feeling your cheeks flush as he stepped away from the carriage-holding you close as Emma stepped out, your brother guiding her.

“lord Deville,” your brother and Emma greeted, Emma bowing her head as Justin held his hand to his chest for a moment. Walter nodded back “Justin, Emma. Pleasure to see you again, now, let’s get (y/n) inside” you rested your chin on Walter’s shoulder as he turned and carried you into the castle, Emma giggled at the sight while Justin huffed a bit, raising his brow at you while you stuck your tongue out at him.

While you settled into the Alexander suite, Justin took Walter aside for a moment, crossing his arms as he leaned against a wall-staring into Walter’s eyes “Lord Deville, while I must thank you for choosing my baby sister, in which I hope is for honorable reasons; do note” he stepped closer, getting into Walter’s face, his lip curling up slightly in a snarl “if you hurt my girl, you will answer directly to me. And whatever crimes I commit against you; I will not care for the consequences. ” Walter smirked, nodding slightly.

“I swear upon my eternal life she will live happily and safely within this castle and as my wife.” Justin held Walter’s stare for a strong moment, then he smiled, patting Walter’s shoulder “good to hear that, now, I must be off-take good care of her-please.” Walter nodded again, watching as Justin made his way to the Alexander suite to say goodbye to you until the wedding.

You perked up as Justin stepped into your new room, nodding at what he saw. “well, I’m going to head back home” he said as he walked towards you, kneeling before you as you sat on your bed, Emma and Mrs. Swift unpacking your clothes and putting them away. You gave Justin a look “you already threatened him didn’t you?” you laughed and Justin grinned, leaning up as you pulled him into a hug “you are such a butt, I’ll miss you”

“I’ll miss you too bug, but not really-see you in four months” he stood, kissing the top of your head, and bowed out, laughing as you chucked a spare shoe at his head-Walter barely dodging it. “oh shit sorry Walter” you gasped, covering your mouth, your shoulders relaxing as he laughed lightly “I was aiming for Justin.”

“I could tell” Walter chuckled, moving to stand in front of you, his hand finding your cheek. “how are you feeling?” you pursed your lips, smiling up at your fiancé. You felt normal, well, as normal as you usually felt, your legs felt fine, and there was no weight in your lungs “good, I didn’t get sick on the way here” you hummed, leaning into Walter’s hand as he rubbed your cheek.

“Good, very good” he muttered, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Are you hungry at all?” you nodded, you had stopped for lunch before your arrival, but that was several hours ago. “perfect, dinner is ready for the four of us, do you want me to carry you or?” you just grabbed his arms, and he held you steady as you stood “Wonderful, come along then darling.”

The next four months went flying by-and you spent it bonding with your future husband and soon-to-be wives-in-law. It was still a bit of an odd concept to be a 3rd bride in a marriage of four, but you were getting used to the idea and wondered how Walter balanced it all. He spent most of his free time with you, Viktoria and Vasilica joining you for breakfast and dinner each day. There were of course days or weeks you wouldn’t leave your room, the usual cold or something else chaining you to the bed.

But that would be alleviated by Walter or Vasilica visiting you; of course, Emma never left your side. Viktoria was-slowly warming up to you, but that never stopped her from the snide comments and the side-eyes as you would read outside or in the library-mostly tucked into the little corner of Walter’s personal library.

You remembered the first time you saw Walter feed on a live human-you didn’t know who they were or where they came from-but you and Emma stumbled into Walter’s study(mostly to see if he wanted to join you for afternoon tea), only to see him draining the blood from a dark-haired woman. Emma gagged a bit-alerting Walter of your presence and he turned, his eyes near black and his mouth dripping with deep red blood, fangs peeking out from his shocked expression.

He gasped your name out, letting the now dead woman drop and wiping his hands on his pants, licking his lips as he glanced between you and the body “you-you weren't supposed to see that” he whispered, he had wanted to keep you protect from sights like this until you were married-when you would be more prepared to see it.

You looked back at Emma, nodding for her to leave and she quickly and happily obeyed, leaving you alone with Walter. He licked his lips nervously, a deeply concerned frown on his face. “who is she?” you asked, nodding to the woman, leaning on the wall as you stepped into the room. Walter glanced down at her, and swallowed harshly “just-just a widow-she volunteered, she wished her life to end anyway.” You nodded, holding out your new book to him, he glanced at it curiously.

“I got a new book; would you like to read it with me during afternoon tea? It’s called sleeping beauty.” Walter smiled, and nodded, happy you hadn’t freaked out like he thought you would-out of all his brides(which at this point, weren’t that many) you were the most…innocent-but you had been faced with death since childhood-it didn’t bother you as much as it did Emma. “of course my darling, let me get cleaned up first-I’ll join you in the gardens in a moment” you nodded with a grin, turning as Mrs. Swift stepped into the room after Walter called her in. he told her to escort you to the gardens and she nodded, doing as told while Mr. Field and a few other butlers got to work cleaning up the mess Walter made.

As the date of the wedding drew ever closer-your days became consumed with planning, barely able to catch a break. One moment you would be choosing placements and flowers, the next your dress and the menu, then the décor and seating chart.

It was just-a lot-so much it sent you into a flare-up, forcing you to your bed where you stayed for nearly two weeks, and only two weeks left till the wedding. You sniffed up at the ceiling, Emma patting a cold cloth on your forehead to hopefully lessen your fever. “I cannot wait to never be sick again” you grumbled and Emma nodded in agreement, she never minded taking care of you-but she had to agree that you never having to deal with illness again would be a good break for the both of you. She perked up at a knock on your door and quickly went to see who it was, stepping aside as Walter peered in at her.

“She’s resting master Deville, still a ways to go to get over it, but it's not one that’ll last much longer” Walter sighed in relief, a book in his hand as he walked over to your side, and sat down next to you. “Hello darling” he muttered, taking your warm hand in his, and pressing it to his lips “how are you feeling?”

“like shit” you croaked, voice nearly gone. Walter frowned, curling his arm around you and pulling you up to lean against him, your head in the crook of his neck. “what’s that?” Walter held up the book, and you beamed-it was the one from your first date. “yes please”

Walter chuckled, getting comfortable next to you and opening the book “As you wish, Emma, would you please get some tea and bread for us?” she nodded, skipping out of the room as Walter began to read what was now your favorite story. “The year that buttercup was born, the most beautiful woman in the world was a French scullery maid named Annette.”

The day of the wedding got closer and closer, and guests began to arrive as the week came to a close. You happily greeted your parents and brothers upon their arrival. “how has everything been darling?” your father asked, brushing a lock of hair out of your eyes as you all settled in the dining room, the doors leading to the gardens wide open to let the comfortable breeze through.

“wonderful, I got sick two weeks ago due to stress, but otherwise-it’s been wonderful-though Walter hasn’t let me into the library for nearly a month now” you pouted, every time you tried-he, Emma, or Vasilica prevented you, only laughing when you complained or asked why you counted go in. you still had access to the books-but you had to have them delivered to your room instead of freely grabbing them yourself.

“im sure he has a good reason for that” your mother laughed, grabbing your hand and shaking it about before she sat up-she and your family bowed as Walter walked into the room. “lord Deville, once again we thank you for inviting us to your home” he smiled and waved his hand, allowing them to stand fully.

“thank you for coming, and trusting me with (y/n). I trust she’s been telling you all about the last four months” he chuckled, walking over to you and kissing your head. They nodded, Justin raising his brow at Walter who just chuckled at him and leaned down to whisper in your ear “can I borrow you for a moment?” you hummed, but nodded, wondering what he wanted. He quickly scooped your up and bid your family a temporary adieu, walking off with you, and soon you were set down in front of the library.

“I was just talking about the library” you chuckled, almost squeaking as Walter covered your eyes and took your hands “Walter?” “keep them closed” he muttered, backing into the doors and leading you inside.

Your hands gripped his tightly, you had done your best to train your legs to allow you to walk for longer periods of time-but it still hurt to walk most of the time. “Walter?” you asked again, feeling him maneuver himself to stand behind you, his hands on your shoulders “okay, look” he whispered, and you opened your eyes, gasping at what you saw.

He expanded the library, just as promised, now it held nearly twice the amount of books it held before. “oh Walter” you muttered, lifting your hands to your mouth, tears of joy burning at your eyes “its-its”

“You like it?” Walter asked, almost shy in his question, holding your waist with his lips on your shoulder as you looked about the sunlit room. “i-I love it!” you laughed, turning in his grip and cupping his face. “thank you, thank you so much.” You took a brave step, and kissed him, closing your eyes as he let out a surprised hum and easily melted into it, his arms going around your waist and picking you up with ease.

“oh finally” you pulled away with a near squeak, looking over Walter's head to see Viktoria and Vasilica, both smiling(Viktoria had more of a smirk) at the two of you “I was wondering when you two were gonna kiss” Viktoria chuckled, turning on her heel and walking off, Vasilica laughing with a cheeky wave as she walked off in the other direction. Walter shook his head with a fond smile, setting you down and holding you close. “And here I thought Viktoria didn’t like me” you muttered, smiling at Walter as he chuckled and shook his head.

“And I told you she would warm up with time, you have a knack for getting into hardened hearts” Walter joked, kissing your head, tilting his head as you hummed “oh yeah? And what exactly got me into yours?" you teased, trailing your fingers up his chest, holding back a burst of laughter as he told you; completely serious.

"You showed me human kindness and that was your downfall.” You couldn’t help it, you laughed; loudly, your giggles echoing through the stone halls as your family smiled at each other-glad they had ended up making the trip all those months ago to include you in the potential brides.

“You, my good sir, are cheeky” you giggled, taking a few deep breaths as you finished laughing at Walter. He just chuckled, taking your chin and kissing you again, muttering about how he couldn't wait to do that as your husband. “only three days left Walter, be patient.” He hummed, looking very impatient. He kissed you again, holding you as close as he could without squishing you; like he couldn’t get enough of you once he had a taste. You giggled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck-making sure to properly thank him for the expanded library.

You took several deep breaths as you felt Emma pin your necklace around your neck, the gem sitting in the middle of your chest. “Ready?” your father asked, kneeling next to your chair. You took another deep breath and nodded “As I’ll ever be” you muttered, letting Justin pick you up and carry you down to the chapel that was built beneath the castle-the skirt of your dress carefully bunched beneath his arm.

As you got closer to the set of doors that hid the chapel and your soon-to-be husband from you, you could feel your heart race and your palms sweat. You were really doing this; you were really getting married and getting turned into a vampire. You would soon be a blood-drinker, someone who fed on human blood. It was a strong downside to the deal-but-on the other hand.

You would be able to walk on your own, breathe without strain, run for the first time since you were very young, and dance without pain. For all that-it was all too worth what you would have to do to gain it all.

It helped your soon-to-be husband was very, very handsome. You took another deep breath as you were set on your feet, your father on your left side, holding your hand tightly as you clung to his arm. “Ready darling?” your father asked, and you nodded, holding your head high as the doors opened and you began to walk.

Everyone stood from their seats, all eyes on you as you walked towards Walter at the end of the aisle. He glanced over his shoulder at you, and you took a sudden breath; he was dressed in deep red velvet lined with gold, a smile on his face as he watched you walk towards him. soon enough your father handed you over to Walter and you kneeled beside him, eyeing the two silver chalices that sat just in front of you and the minister.

“You look beautiful darling” Walter whispered, curling his pinkie around yours and you smiled, telling him he looked handsome. He grinned back-his fangs fully out-and you thought he looked quite good with them out. You both turned to the dark-cloaked minister as he raised his hands, the altar behind him decorated with yours and Walter’s banners. “We are gathered here this day, to sanctify the union, between our benevolent master, and his new bride; from the Alexander bloodline. Long may they flourish.”

Behind you, everyone from the three great families chanted the words that had been ingrained in you since you had discovered the true nature of your family's power. “May the bridemaidens, rejoice” the minister turned to Walter, who raised his head high-squeezing your pinkie gently. “Master, Do you take (y/n) Alexander to be your bride? To protect and honor her, for all the days of your eternal life?” Walter almost looked proud to say; “I do”.

The minister turned to you, and you took a deep breath as he spoke “And do you, (y/n) Alexander, take the master to love, honor, serve and obey, for all the days of your eternal life?” you glanced at Walter, whose ever blue eyes pierced into your soul, and you thought about the last four months with him. every quiet moment, every kiss on your head, every concerned furrow of his brows when you could cough or wheeze, every time he carried you when you couldn’t walk. His promise to run with you. And so you nodded, turning back to the minister “I do.” You could hear the quiet excited chatter within the crowd, and you could feel the excitement from Vasilica.

*trigger warning for self-harm and blood drinking!*

“May you now exchange blood” you watched as Walter took a dagger, slicing open his wrist and letting it pour into the silver chalice that sat before him. no sooner than the cup filled only a quarter ways-his wound healed, and he took the cup, handing it to you. You took a deep breath as you carefully grabbed the chalice. You closed your eyes then tipped your head back, letting Walter’s blood fill your mouth and go down your throat.

Almost instantly you could feel the change, the power that coursed through you. The weakness you had felt your entire left-disappeared in an instant. The pain in your legs-gone. The heaviness of your lungs-gone. That sickness that never quite left you-gone. You could feel your mouth ache slightly as your new fangs unsheathed themselves, your nails turning black and sharp-along with your fingertips.

You took several, long deep breaths-for once feeling uninhibited from doing so, the wheezing was gone. You opened your eyes, turning to Walter, and he beamed, his hand that somehow found its way to the small of your back rubbing it with his thumb. You turned to the chalice placed in front of you, taking the dagger alongside it and doing the same Walter had-watching as your blood poured into the chalice. And just as his had-your wound healed within a near instant.

You took the cup, handing it off to Walter, who eagerly drank your blood, a low moan rumbling in his chest-some of your blood escaping down the corner of his mouth and trailing down his jaw. He quickly caught it with his finger and sucked it clean, licking his lips a moment afterward. His eyes glowed for a quick moment, and you turned-seeing Viktoria and Vasilica’s doing the same. And the rush of strength and power you had felt upon your turn felt 100x stronger when it washed over you again.

Walter turned to you, and grabbed your hand-and you focused back into reality as the minister continued to speak. “and now, the new lady Deville; will indulge herself in her first blood.” You frowned, wondering if Walter had forgotten to mention something about the ceremony. And that’s when it hit you-the raging hunger-a hunger you had never felt before-a thirst even-for blood. You supposed that’s what made the whole-drinking human blood thing-easier; having the need to drink it. You turned, and if your heart was still beating-it would’ve skipped a beat; for there, at the altar, was a young man looking resigned to his fate-his eyes holding a deep sadness. You turned to Walter, non-verbally asking if the man wanted to die.

He nodded back, leaning towards you to whisper in your ear “a man of no wealth and poor luck-he volunteered in exchange his only child be taken care of.” He was a father…you-you weren’t sure you could kill such a man. Then Walter whispered again “you need not kill him, but simply drink some of his blood until you were satisfied.” You let out a slow breath and nodded, getting to your feet without help-something your mother gasped happily at-something she hadn’t seen you do since you were very very young.

You took the man's lower neck, swallowing as you felt that burning hunger nearly take you over “Forgive me if I go too far” you muttered down at the man, and he smiled kindly, closing his eyes as you bared your fangs-and descended upon his neck.

Everything went fuzzy after that, you could feel the warm liquid of the man's blood fill your mouth and stomach, a new strength filling you with it. It was-delicious, like smooth cream custard. Sweet cherry sauce on a savory tart. French toast drizzled with strawberry glaze. Pastries filled with cinnamon cream.

You pulled away from the man's neck with a gasp, licking your lips clean-using your hands to clean your chin as the man slumped-still alive-but weak. He would need time to recover. You muttered a small thank you to him, and turned back to Walter-his eyes almost dark with a deep lust for you, but lightened with the love he felt at the same time. He held his hand out to you as he stood, and you joined him, easily tucking into his side as the minister spoke again-but you could hardly hear his words, only feeling Walter’s body heat and the blood rushing through your body.

You jolted back to reality as Walter grabbed your left hand, and you looked down to see him sliding a ring on your finger. You had completely forgotten about this part. He kissed your knuckles and then handed you his ring, and you slid it onto his finger, holding his hand tightly as he turned back to the minister.

Soon enough you felt Walter’s fingers under your chin, and you looked up to see him looking at you, his eyes bright as ever, a smirk on his plush lips. He looked at your lips and you easily got the hint-you supposed the minister announced you as man and wife-and it was time to kiss the bride. And with that, Walter kissed you, and you happily accepted it, curling your arms around his back and holding him tight, groaning into the kiss as he licked at your bottom lip. You could just feel his fangs at your lips, and it was likely he could feel yours.

You could hear your parents sob happily, and the crowd soon burst into applause. You opened your eyes slowly as Walter pulled away, giggling as he pecked your lips quickly before he fully pulled back, tugging you into his side as you turned to the crowd. “may we rejoice, in the new Lady Alexander Deville”

“May the bridemaidens rejoice”

The reception was a party, everyone was excitedly talking, dining, and dancing; celebrating your marriage with the master. You stood with Walter at the head table, greeting everyone that walked up to you. It felt-odd-to stand on your own so easily after so many years of pain. It did feel every odd to do it, your legs felt unused to doing this; so you reasoned you would have to train them to get used to no longer needing help.

Dancing with Walter was-a bit embarrassing-something he handled wonderfully well as he guided you across the dance floor. you had honestly never learned to dance-so you practically buried yourself in Walter’s side as he led you in a near graceful waltz. But soon enough you found yourself wandering away from the party-giving the excuse that you needed some time alone due to intense excitement; it took a minute but you finally found yourself on the other side of the castle-facing the forest and stables.

“There you are” you perked up, smiling as you saw your newly-wed husband. He walked over to you and took his spot next to you on the castle wall, his hand finding yours as you fiddled with your new ring. “was wondering where you went, already bored of me?”

“Gonna take me a while to get bored of you” you joked, leaning on his shoulder and letting yourself relax “I’ll get bored of you when I’ll get bored of reading.” Walter let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, holding his free hand to his chest “oh thank goodness, a day never to come.” You laughed, finally freely able to do so without worry of an attack.

You both settled into comfortable silence, taking in the crickets and night birds that settled in the darkened forest, a soft breeze brushing by as the horses quietly ate their hay. “so” Walter muttered, turning his head into yours, his lips pressing against your forehead “you gonna do it?” you frowned, looking up at him confused. He smiled, chuckling a bit “the first thing you wanted to do upon being turned”

You felt a smile grow on your face and you slowly stepped away from Walter, using his arm to lean over and take off your shoes, giggling at the feeling of the grass against your feet. Walter took them from you tilting his head as you took a few tentative steps away from him, glanced back for a moment-

Then you ran-your arms pumping at your sides, the wind in your air, your laughter echoing through the trees. Walter smiled, watching you run with such a fondness he never knew he could feel after becoming a vampire. He dropped your shoes to the floor and took off after you, his laughter joining yours as you raced through the forest, the chatter of the guests blurring into the background as you ran into the night with your husband.

Back at the party, Viktoria smirked into her glass-the sound of Walter’s laughter was a sound she hadn’t heard in quite a while, and while she wished she was the source of it, she found she didn’t mind you being its reason.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, months into years, years into decades, and decades into centuries; and in the late 1800’s, the Deville family found themselves moving into a grand manor known as New Carfax Abbey, the fine white stone a strike difference from the strong grey castle you used to live in. “Walter?” you asked quietly, wondering where he was taking you. Upon your arrival, he had quickly told you to close your eyes and let him lead you into the manor. He had bought the manor upon its completion-but it had been months since-something about minor changes being made to the building. “can I open my eyes yet?”

“No, no, not yet” he muttered back, his footsteps echoing loudly as he brought you into a dark room. It almost sounded like a theater with the way they reverberated off the walls. He stopped suddenly, holding your shoulders for a moment as he turned, sounding giddy “Wait here.”

He rushed off, and you heard curtains being pulled, and sunlight suddenly beamed into the room-making you lift your brows and look towards the light-wondering what he was doing. “Walter? Now can I open them?” you saw his shadow move back in front of you, and he took a deep breath, a smile in his voice as he spoke. “All right, now~!”

You opened your eyes, your hands flying up to your mouth as you gasped. It was a library-a huge library, filled with hundreds and thousands of books, two stories high with spiral staircases and ladders to help you reach the books. Tall windows lit the room in natural light, a fireplace resting at the head of the room, and even more books were set upon the mantel. “Walter-i-I can't-even-wow” you spun around, taking in the wonderful sight, walking around Walter as he grinned at your reaction-you were completely speechless, even more so than when he had expanded the library of the original Deville castle.

“you like it?” Walter asked, almost shy, repeating his words from hundreds of years ago; smiling as you leaped into his arms at the nearly rhetorical question. “like it? I love it! Thank you, Walter” you almost sobbed, taking his face and kissing him, your arms around his neck as he lifted you off your feet. He pulled back after a moment, shaking his head in an attempt to not get lost in the moment “I have two more surprises for you” he hummed, setting you down and taking your hand, running with you down to the other end of the library-were you found a kitchenette.

“My own little kitchen?” you laughed, opening the cabinets to see your favorite snacks and pastries packed away; waiting for you to eat them while you read away. “awwww, I love it” you laughed as Walter nodded, happy he had made a good choice “what's the second surprise?” you asked, taking Walter’s hand as he held it out to you, leading you to a slightly dark corner.

He looked around, then pulled at a small notch in the wall, stepping back as the bookcase slid back and to the side “holy shit” you muttered, letting Walter lead you into the room, laughing as he pulled a few curtains opened and revealed a mini-library-around the same size as his study. But you recognized every book in there, it was his and your favorites-with that oh-so-beloved book of yours sitting on a pedestal in the middle of the back bookshelf.

“A secret library?” you teased, turning to Walter and wrapping your arms around his neck, looking over his shoulder to see another fireplace with a chair resting in front of it-perfectly sized for the two of you, either you to be tucked into his side-or sitting on his lap.

“I thought it appropriate” he muttered, closing his eyes and holding you close, taking a deep breath of you and relaxing. “And did Viktoria and Mary get their own little rooms?” you teased, while you absolutely didn’t mind the favoritism Walter showed you, but-they were also his wives and they deserved just as much from him as you did.

He nodded “yes yes, Viktoria has a music room, her harp already moved in; and Mary has her own kitchen, free to bake as she likes” you hummed, you couldn’t wait to see what Mary created-she was a wonderful cook and pastry chef, having made the best Pain Au Chocolat you had ever tasted in your last nearing 500 years of life.

Vasilica had unfortunately died to hunters about 200 years back, Mary being her ‘replacement’. you had Viktoria had actually gotten a bit closer due to Vasilica’s death, and you made sure Viktoria wasn’t cruel to the new Billington bride-just as Vasilica had done for you during that fate-changing week(which shocked you, you hadn’t seen Viktoria until that final day-but that was due to Vasilica interfering and keeping Viktoria away from most of the potential Alexander brides.)

“Good” you muttered, kissing Walter softly then you spun on your heel, giddy as you looked upon the secret library. “so-uh-“ you turned again, about to ask if you could get started but Walter was already holding out his hand, grinning as he prepared to lead you back out to the grand library. You let out a laugh, eagerly following him out-your giddy laughter filling the pristine library.

-end~-

Well-this was a LONNNG boi!!! 61 pages and 19709 words!!!!!!!!!!!! I started this back in early December I think too-so it’s been a long ass minute since I started this XDXD anyways-hope yall enjoyed~ and now onto OUAD Walter version~!!! As promised/planned~ gn!!!!

also sorry for killing off Vasilica!

taglist!

@thetrueghostqueen @littlewierdalien @sessediz

#walter deville x reader #walter deville #the invitation 2022 #chronically ill reader #vampirism #princess bride #mentions of death #impending death #short life span #happy ending #blood drinking #self harm #this is a LONG mf #61 pages #19000+ words

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alicanta77 · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 1: Tomorrow Never Dies

Pairing: y/n x Jeno

Themes: mutant au, angst, fluff

Warnings: mind control, experiments performed on people, needles, violence, minor character death, blood, descriptions of injury, swearing

Words: 14k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Finale

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The repetitive high pitched beeping drew you out of your heavy sleep. You winced as the ceiling light switched on automatically, the brightness glaring down at you. You heard a groan from your roommate, signalling that he was also awake. You lay there for a second, your eyes trying to adjust, before pulling yourself up into a sitting position.

You turned your head towards the boy on your left, wincing once again as your neck cracked loudly. His eyes moved towards you, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

‘Lab last night?’ He asked, the three words asking the question that all of you dreaded.

Did they take you into the lab last night? Did they experiment on you? What did they do to you? What do you remember? Do you remember anything?

‘Yep.’ You muttered. ‘Routine 2b.’

It was Jeno’s turn to wince at your revelation. He knew that 2b was a painful routine that they could put you through, involving a lot of needles and a heavy focus on your neck.

You simply let out a dry chuckle and shrugged, a short yet sharp pain shooting through your neck and upper back as you did so.

‘Still feeling it?’ He asked again, clearly noticing your obvious discomfort.

‘How could you tell?’ You gave him a small smile, a sad but familiar one that was always exchanged between the two of you the morning after a visit to the lab.

The door of your cell buzzed, signalling that it was open, and in walked a single guard. He was wearing protective gear from head to toe, from thick boots, to a bullet proof vest, to his gloves, all the way to the helmet covering his face. You never knew who was behind all the gear, having never seen the face of a single guard in this facility for as long as you’d been here. The pistol strapped to his boot, or the knife at his side, or even the machine gun across his back probably should have scared you, but when that’s all you’ve known, you don’t see anything wrong with it.

Besides, you’re only in this facility to protect the outside world from dangers like you. The facility you’re in holds some of the most dangerous people in the world. The upper levels of the facility held criminals, each getting more threatening as you ventured down through the floors of the building. Those arrested for petty theft or vandalism were kept at the top, then the serial killers and mass murders were contained one floor above the bottom. You were kept in the most secured sub basement section of the facility. The lowest possible layer. You were watched at all time by guards and cameras, taken into labs for tests and experiments. Doctors would perform these on you, taking samples and notes, figuring out how to help you control yourselves.

The sub section you were kept in held around 150 people, most of them teenagers and young adults like you. You were different, called mutants of some kind. That was the closest you had ever come to an actual answer about what you were. What you did know was that you had abilities, something that the average human didn’t have, and that was what made you dangerous. Out of all the years you had been here, you had only managed to figure out a few other subject’s abilities. The seven other boys you shared your area with, to be exact.

You first found out about your roommate, Lee Jeno, subject A7, weather manipulation. He could create a storm by narrowing his eyes or make the sun shine brighter by simply smiling. His abilities were often affected by his emotions. The happier he was, the easier it was to create a sunny environment, but when he was angry or frustrated, he often found it difficult to control the storm that started brewing. There was something oddly poetic about his abilities though. This thought occurred to you the one and only time you saw him cry. To this day, you still have no idea what happened to break his heart like that, but, you watched one day as the guard pulled him aside and delivered some news. The next thing you knew, Jeno had collapsed to the ground, sobs tearing from his chest. Even though you were inside, rain droplets started to fall on your head. It was as if the sky had decided to cry with him.

There was Mark Lee, subject A3, healing and super speed. Apparently it’s incredibly rare to have more than one ability. That’s why they call Mark Lee the ‘Golden Boy’. He often finds the world running at a pace that was too slow for him, his naturally faster system getting bored easily. He would spend some time running laps around the training room faster than you could blink. His healing skill is the one he has most trouble with. It doesn’t come as easily to him as his speed does. Instead, he has to learn it. Without thinking much, he can mend cuts and fade bruises, and, when he really focuses, he finds a way to stop serious pain or bleeding, and often pulls the body back together slightly.

Next, Huang Renjun, subject D9, image manipulation. He is the hardest to get a read on. You often can’t tell if he’s really in front of you, or if it’s simply just an image of him. He can make you see anything he wants you to see. Whether that is an empty training room when there’s actually ten people in there, or if it’s suddenly transporting you to a beach in the Caribbean. He seems to have the most control over his abilities out of all of you. Focusing now on making multiple people see what he wants them to, rather than just an individual.

After him, Lee Donghyuck, subject B5, he sees the future. No one knows how much he can see or how accurate it is, but he always know more than you do. You often think that he knows a lot more than he’s letting on. He likes to use his ability for trivial things, like telling people what’s for lunch or what to expect in training today. He has a much more serious and caring side to him though. You suspect that he uses his ability to keep an eye on your emotions as somehow, he always seems to know when you’re having a bad day.

Also, Na Jaemin, subject D2, mind control. Sweet as sugar but just as artificial, he could send you the deadliest smile, all while secretly enticing you into doing something for him. Normally it’s nothing drastic, fetching his lunch for him or asking a guard the question he doesn’t want to. But you never know when he’ll get bored of that and make you do something you really don’t want to. You always make sure to keep him on your good side. Similar to Donghyuck, no one really knows the true extent of his powers, making him even more mysterious. Even the guards seem nervous of him because you can never quite tell when he’s enchanting you, not until it’s too late.

Then comes Zhong Chenle, subject C6, a shapeshifter. Can transform easily if he’s looking at the animal, harder if he has to remember it and really has to focus if he wants to take on the form of another human. He always seems to be in a good mood. How he manages that you have no idea, but you’re always thankful. He takes the whole situation less seriously than the others. Choosing to randomly turn into birds and fly into the guards helmets or run up their legs as a mouse. No matter what, he always manages to make you laugh.

And finally, Park Jisung, subject D4, super strength. Not exactly what you would expect the boy to have, considering his personality. He seems too sweet for this reality. He always wants the best for people and sees the good in everyone. Sometimes, you wish that you could have that mindset. He’s such a pure soul that you often forget he could squish you in between his fingers like a fly if you weren’t careful. He constantly seemed to forget that he was incredibly strong, often banging the table when laughing and knocking off a leg, or clapping Hyuck on the back and sending him sprawling to the floor. He was a bit clumsy but had a heart of gold.

Rounding out the floor, there was you, subject A1, telekinesis. You could move a glass simply by looking at it, pick something up by blinking or shake your head and watch the overhead lights swing. If you focused hard you could lift or move heavier things, but moving people took almost all of your energy. Like Jeno, your emotions affect how powerful you were. Unlike with Renjun and Chenle who seem to lose control the angrier or more emotional or worked up they get, with Renjun’s images flickering and Chenle shifting uncontrollably from animal to animal, you and Jeno seem to be able to do more. Jeno could make a thunder storm powerful enough to blow the windows out by clenching his jaw and you could lift impossibly heavy objects and even throw them. Pushing people to the side also only took a slight flick of your hand. Sometimes your powers scared yourself. What would you do if one day you lost control and hurt someone you loved? If you were already dangerous enough to be locked in a facility like this, what would that make you? You would be worse than a monster.

As well as sharing the same floor with you, you also shared the same training room and dining hall. You even shared the same lab. It terrified you every time you walked into or past it and got a glimpse of the blood coating the doctor’s hands from their previous procedures.

The guard back out of your doorway, keeping an eye on the two of you at all times. You tilted your head to the left slightly, narrowing your eyes at him, watching as the guard’s moves sped up. He tripped over his own feet slightly in a bid to leave the room as fast as possible, causing both you and Jeno to burst out laughing when the door was shut.

‘You really have to stop doing that. It’s mean.’ Jeno lightly scolded you, the smile still present on his face.

‘Oh please, I am nowhere near as bad as Chenle. You know, Jisung told me that the last time the guard went into their room, Chenle had hidden himself as a moth under the bed, and then dropped in front of the poor guard and turned himself into a bear.’ You recited the story of yesterday morning to Jeno’s disbelieving face. ‘It’s true! Besides, at least we get to wake up to a smile on our faces.’

‘Yeah, you have a point.’ He paused for a second before giggling again. ‘Chenle is ruthless.’

You couldn’t help but laugh as well, treasuring the rare moments like this. Moments where everything seemed ok, seemed normal, and you could enjoy life and laugh with friends as if nothing else was wrong. However, those moments only ever last a few seconds.

The speakers in your room buzzed to life as a voice cracked through them.

‘All subjects to the rose room in five minutes. All subjects to the rose room in five minutes.’

You both looked at each other and sighed, before climbing out of your beds and grabbing the clothes provided. The guards come in every morning to drop them off. A simple grey jumpsuit, that was all you wore, everyday. You grabbed yours and headed into the bathroom to change. You pulled it on and spared yourself a short look in the mirror. The dark bags around your eyes were prominent, as were the small red dots on your neck. The only traces of what you went through the previous night. You rubbed them, trying to soften the aching before turning to leave the bathroom.

You knocked on the door, waiting for a shout from Jeno to say that it was okay for you to come out, before exiting. Together you waited for the trademark low pitched buzz that signalled your cell door being unlocked, and headed out into the hallway.

As you left you spotted the doctor waiting by your door. The other cells on your floor made the same low pitched buzz, and, gradually, out walked the other six boys. There were doctors positioned by each door, prepared with an injection. You received it every day, a numbing agent, that dulled your abilities for a period of time. It was given to you in the morning, allowing you to do your work and have lunch before it wore off and you went to your training sessions.

The doctor extended a gloved hand to you, silently asking for your arm. You handed it to her and she rolled up your sleeve. She turned over your wrist and held you by the elbow as she positioned the syringe just below the joint.

The syringe wasn’t the kind they used in the labs. It wasn’t glass with a long metal needle on one end, it was thicker, something that had to be properly gripped with a button on the top to administer whatever was inside.

The doctor gave you no warning before she pushed the button and you winced as the machine let out a hiss, injecting the blue serum into you. You watched as she held out a hand to Jeno and repeated the same procedure. You blinked slowly a few times, the effects of the drug already taking hold.

‘Make your way to the rose room. Now.’ A guard to your left barked.

You turned robotically, your mind fuzzy and clouded. You began the journey to the rose room, your entire being occupied with the simple task of getting there. You had no thought process, no questions running around your mind, you weren’t thinking of anything. You just did what you were told.

You walked down with Jeno by your side, the white walls and floors passing you by with every step you took. You vaguely registered Jaemin joining you in your peripheral vision, but you didn’t turn to look at him. You kept your head straight, your face emotionless and your mouth shut. None of you looked at each other, none of you looked anywhere but straight ahead, and none of you uttered a word. None of you gave an inclination that you were more that walking robots, fully compliant and prepared to carry out any instruction given.

Because, in reality, under this drug, that was all that you were reduced to. You just didn’t realise the danger of that yet.

---

The door to the rose room was already open when you arrived, a guard standing there holding it for you. You didn’t spare a look towards him, your dull eyes kept focus on what was in front of you. You trudged towards your position, finding the spot labelled with your subject number and began your work.

The rose room was a large greenhouse. Inside it was a maze of rose bushes, sporting roses of all kinds and colours. If you were more awake then maybe you would appreciate the reds, blue, yellows and purples a lot more, but in your zombified state, you only knew work. In the middle of the room, however, was a large conveyer belt.

Your job was to extract certain things from these roses, place them on the conveyer belt, and move onto the next thing. You did this for three hours in the morning everyday.

It was only in the rose room that you saw more of the subjects that were kept in the facility. You were just conscious enough to be aware of the girl and boy on either side of you, and of the fact that you didn’t recognise them.

However, you were blissfully unaware of the guards stalking through the rows of you. They stopped by the boy on your left and grabbed him by the shoulders. You didn’t register the guards movements. You didn’t register the boy being violently yanked out of his position. You didn’t register him being dragged down the halls. You didn’t register his screams.

You did your work.

---

Due to the numbing agent of the serum, time didn’t seem to exist during your work and lunch, so, before you knew it, it was time to train.

The training room was a very large open space, with an area of it dedicated to a certain activity. Your training works in a circuit. Each of you has an individual routine, specific activities and exercises to work on each day that are tailored towards your abilities. As well as the ability training, you all have fitness training and agility and other physical exercises to complete as well. You weren’t sure what you were training for, but you had been doing it all your life.

Yesterday you had been working on distance training. This was one exercise that was centred around your ability and focused on you trying to move the same object from a further distance each time. It was repetitive and mentally draining, but always gave you good results. Since that was yesterday, it meant that today you were working on your physical agility and assisting it with your abilities. It involved things such as jumping from narrow beams and using your telekinesis to help and support your movements.

You always began without using abilities, trying it by yourself so that you knew where you needed to direct your energy. You started on two long beams that were only around two feet off the floor, and you simply jumped between them, trying to keep your balance. You had to make your way down them while jumping from one to the other, speeding up each time you completed it.

Then, once the instructor watching you was satisfied, you were told to use your abilities. You now used telekinesis to manipulate the air around you to help you jump. It made you jump further and faster, also with safer landings. You continued with this for a short while before the instructor stopped you.

‘Right, now let’s actually put it to the test.’ They said, turning away from you.

You watched them, confused, bending over slightly with you hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath. You had been hoping for a break so that you could rest briefly but you had no such luck. Your instructor turned around and pointed above them.

‘Up you go’ They said nonchalantly. You followed to where they were pointing and you let out a breath of disbelief. Above you, hanging from the ceiling, were thin beams that were swaying the the minute breeze cause by the movement.

‘You’ve gotta be kidding me.’ You thought. But you instructor simply looked at you expectantly and you knew that you weren’t getting out of this. All the other boys were drawing to a close with their exercises, which didn’t go unnoticed by your instructor, so they decided to make a small change to their plan.

‘You get through this once, and then we’re done for the day. Okay?’ They said, nodding with a smile that was anything but friendly.

You took a deep breath and climbed the stairs to the side of the room. On the way up you looked down and watched as Jisung finished his final exercise, meaning that all the boys were officially done. You reached the top and looked out in front of you.

The beams were much thinner than those you had been working on below, and, not to mention, the ropes holding them up looked suspiciously frail. They creaked as they moved and the wooden beams swayed gently in front of you. You knew that you weren’t getting out of here without completing this task, so you jumped.

The first jump was easy. It wasn’t even half a meter long and your telekineses helped you to keep the beam steady. You took careful steps, wincing every time the beam creaked underneath your weight. The ropes groaned as you moved but you kept going, knowing that slowing down would be more dangerous.

You cleared the second jump again, with a little more effort required, but you couldn’t quite figure out why it was more difficult. You made you way across this one swiftly, keeping you steps as light as possible due to the trembling ropes. The last thing you wanted was to fall now. It wasn’t until you reached the third jump that you realised why it was getting harder.

The jumps were getting bigger.

You swallowed, risking a look down and seeing the seven boys watching you carefully. You took a shaky breath, keeping your eyes on them as you saw Jeno give you a nod of encouragement. You nodded back and lifted your head, determined to finish this. You focused your mind on using the air around you and pictured pushing the particles together to form a barrier. You jumped forward and used that barrier to lift you slightly higher. You let out a sigh of relief when you cleared the distance, but you relaxed too early as you hadn’t taken into account the weight of you landing.

The ropes creaked dangerously loudly and you watched in fear as they began to fray. You knew you had to finish this quickly, or else you would be taking the quick way down. You took step after step, walking as fast as you possibly could to reach the second to last jump. You lifted off again, this time with less preparation due to you worry of the beam snapping, and you almost didn’t make it. You landed, roughly on the edge of the beam, holding onto it desperately in an attempt to pull yourself up.

You could hear the worried intakes of breath from the boys below you, but they didn’t say a thing. They weren’t allowed to. Interfering with another subject’s training had painful repercussions.

‘Come on y/n.’ You heard Jaemin’s voice echo through your head. You spared a look down to find him looking at you intently. You realised that he must be using his abilities to speak with you telepathically. You didn’t know he could do that. ‘Pull yourself up. You can do this.’

You forced yourself to focus, using your ability to help your legs up and you got onto the beam. You had just straightened up when it started to shake, the ropes of the verge of breaking.

‘Run!’ Jaemin’s voice shattered your dazed mind and you took off. One foot in front of the other, just trying to reach the end. You only had two jumps left to make, one to the final beam and one to the solid platform at the end with the stairs to take you back down to the safety of the ground.

You launched off the beam and onto the final one, the impact of your landing causing the ropes to tremble. You began to run and they properly gave out. You felt the beam beneath you begin to give way and you placed a final foot as close to the edge as you could, and leaped.

You used your ability the best you could, but you could tell that you weren’t going to make it. Then you felt a sudden gust of air push you up slightly, allowing you to just clear the distance and land in a heap, safely on the other side.

You lay there on the ground for a second, catching your breath. The instructor’s voice echoed around the training room.

‘Head back to your cells! We’re done for the day!’

---

You and Jeno were making your way back to your cell after dinner. The events of the training room hadn’t left your mind. That final gust of air had saved you. And you knew that it had to have come from Jeno. No one else could do that.

‘Hey Jeno?’ You asked, keeping your eyes on the floor as you walked.

He hummed in response.

‘Thank you for earlier. I don’t know what I would have done without you.’ You said honestly.

He stopped you walking, forcing you to look at him.

‘You don’t ever need to thank me. I’ve got your back and you’ve got mine. No matter what, we’re always gonna protect each other yeah?’

You nodded, a smile etching its way onto your face.

‘Yeah.’

You kept walking, turning the corner into your corridor that your cell was near the other end of. On the way to your cell, you passed the lab with its door open. You looked into it as you passed and stopped in your tracks. Donghyuck was on the operating table they had in the middle of the room, being restrained by two guards as he whimpered and resisted. You watched as they clamped metal restraints over his wrists and ankles, keeping him in place. A doctor began to approach him with a scalpel in his hand when the two of you were noticed. The doctor gestured towards the guard who reach forward and slammed the door shut, the lock clicking afterwards.

You and Jeno shared a sad look. The familiar whirring noise of the doctor’s instruments radiated through the door and you winced. You both recognised that sound and knew what Donghyuck was about to be put though. Jeno’s arm came up to your back to begin to guide you back to your shared cell. You accepted and walked with him. You knew that there was nothing you could do.

You hadn’t even got halfway down the corridor before Donghyuck began to scream.

---

9 days had passed since your last lab visit, meaning that you would be back in there tonight. And you were. You hadn’t even finished eating when the guards came to collect you. The other boys watched you sadly as you were escorted away.

You lay down on the operating table waiting for them to proceed. You felt the two guards approach you and you instinctively began to draw yourself away.

‘Strap her down. We don’t have time for this.’ The doctor instructed, frustration already present in his tone.

The guard stepped towards you again, grabbing your hands and pushed them down onto the table you were lying at. He ignored your begs and pleads to let you go and, instead, clamped the metal restraints down over your wrists. He repeated this process with your feet, effectively locking you in place.

You struggled against the cuffs with all you might but couldn’t budge one bit. You were used to being cuffed at your wrists and ankles, but it was when the guard approached you with a large belt, strapping your stomach to the table, that you really began to freak out. Your whole body thrashed from side to side as you tried to break free, but eventually, you found yourself unable to move.

The doctor leaned forward and pushed the guard out of the way. You noticed that, for the first time, there were three doctors preparing to work on you, rather than the normal one. This, and the intense measures that they went to to ensure that you couldn’t move, caused your fear to shoot through the roof.

‘The new procedure today Doc?’ One of the younger doctors asked.

‘Yes. We should be able to get some good data.’ The doctor leaning over you answered.

You whimpered slightly, terrified of what was about to happen. The doctor leaned further over you, adjusting the scalpel in his hand. You tried to move away from it, but you had no power. The other two doctors held you head and chest, exposing you neck.

You felt the small knife make a long incision on the back of your neck and you couldn’t stop the scream that ripped from your throat. Something was on this knife that was making it unbelievably painful.

‘Don’t panic, she’s just reacting to the acid that’s on the tools.’ The first doctor’s voice cut through.

Acid.

Whatever was happening to you, it was going to be the most painful experience of your life.

And it was.

You screamed and thrashed and sobbed, trying everything you could to escape the merciless torture that was being inflicted upon you. You were cut in areas, injected, and hit with other objects. The doctors measured you reactions to each of these and took notes on how your body reacted.

You eventually transcended the level of pain, you body and mind too broken for you to register the full extent of what you were going through. You couldn’t even scream anymore, your lungs and vocal cords exhausted from the amount you’d used them in the previous hours.

‘Ok that’s enough.’ You heard a voice say. You tried to pry your eyes open to see who was speaking, but you couldn’t move. You could barely even focus on the words that were being said.

‘It’s not your job to tell us what to do.’ You recognised the main doctor’s voice.

The previous voice replied again. ‘It’s my job to keep them alive. Now stop.’

You managed to pry open your eyes and noticed a guard standing in front of the doctor, staring him down. You could’t process what was going on. The guards never stood up for you.

However, something in the guard’s words made the doctor turn back towards you, and when he saw the state that you were in, he swore.

‘Fuck.’ The words left his mouth softly and he suddenly began to rummage through the drawers. ‘Save the data, we need to eradicate this experience. She couldn’t take as much as we thought she could.’

The younger doctor’s voice piped up, a sentence that sent a chill down your spine. ‘We could try it on subject A3. The higher levels of speed mean that he heals faster, we would probably get further on him.’

‘Good idea.’ The first doctor replied.

Subject A3... Mark.

‘Now this is going to wake her up for about thirty seconds before knocking her out again. But she still isn’t going to have control over her limbs so you need to get her back to her cell, understand?’

You assumed the doctor was talking to the guard, but your eyes had closed again. The weight of your eyelids being too much to hold open in your current state. You tried to protest as the doctor tiled your head to the side, but all that came out was a choked whine. You hissed as the needle pierced your skin and something was injected into you.

You head spun violently as your body registered the new drug and you felt as though you were going to throw up. Your eye shot open as you gulped for air, your newly freed arms coming up to scratch at you throat.

Not even two seconds later, your entire body was numb. You couldn’t move, stand or pick yourself up even if you wanted to. The guard approached you, holding one of your arms over his shoulder and supporting your waist with the other. He lifted you up and walked you out of the door. Until the doctor’s voice caused a sudden stop to his movements

‘Ten? Not a word of this to anyone.’

The guard, Ten, didn’t move, didn’t even turn back to look at the doctor, but he didn’t need to in order to understand the threat. He made his way down the corridor, swearing as you slipped slightly from his grip. You watched the floor begin to spin under you feet as you were carried back to your cell. He finally reached the door, swiping his key card in the lock and kicking it open before throwing you back inside.

Your limp body hit the floor with a hard thud and the door closed behind the guard as he exited, locking with a click and a buzz. The ceiling spun above you and you couldn’t move to pull yourself up from the floor to get to your bed. You just registered Jeno’s worried face coming into your vision when it all went black.

---

You woke to the same high pitched beeping you did every morning. This time, however, to the view of Jeno’s head on your bed too. He had fallen asleep on the floor, watching over you throughout the night.

He stirred slightly, groaning as the beeping woke him from his slumber. He lifted his head, turning suddenly to look at you, his eyes widening when he saw that you were awake.

‘Y/n? Are you okay?’ He asked, concern etched on his features.

You opened your mouth to speak, but all that came out was a hoarse croak. You throat burned from the previous night and you winced at the pain. Jeno stood quickly, running into the bathroom to get you a glass of water. He came back and handed it you, watching as you gulped it down.

‘What did they do to you?’ He whispered, watching you form sadly.

‘I don’t know.’ You whispered back, unable to speak any louder.

The door buzzed open and a guard walked in, the number 10 easily visible on the strap on his upper right arm. He placed the new grey jumpsuits on the end of your bed began to walk away again. The guard stopped in the doorway and turned back.

‘The rose room has been cancelled.’ He informed the two of you. ‘Instead, you train in the morning, then go for lunch and have a free afternoon. Get out of bed y/n.’

Both yours and Jeno’s heads shot towards the guard as he left, the two of you frozen in shock as the door locked shut.

‘Tell me you heard that too.’ Jeno breathed.

‘Yep.’ You confirmed, your brain running at a mile a minute.

‘They never address us by our names.’ He stated, and he was right. You were always addressed by subject number, nothing else.

‘Yep.’ You repeated.

‘Only by subject number.’

‘Yep.’

‘What do you think it means?’ He asked, turning away from the shut door to look at you.

‘I don’t know.’ You shook your head, your eyes still locked on the cell door that was staring back at you.

‘Why was it only you?’ Jeno wondered aloud.

‘I don’t know.’ You knew about as much as Jeno did so you honestly had no idea why he was asking you all these questions.

‘How do you feel about it?’

You paused, not knowing how to answer the final question that, for some reason, made your blood run cold. You turned to look at him.

‘... I don’t know.’

---

You and Jeno were the last to enter the training room. You both scanned the guards surrounding you all, but when none of them had the number 10 on their armour, you shared a disappointed look. Before arriving, you had decided to keep a look out for that guard, to see if there was something that separated him from the others. Something you could notice that would give you a reason as to why he used your name rather than your number. Once the eight of you were in the room, the guards turned and left, shutting the door behind them. You all stared at the shut door, then at each other. You had never been left alone in the training room before. Never.

What was wrong with this day?

You walked towards the physical agility station, confused when you saw Chenle standing there, preparing for his training. You weren’t sure why he was there when it was your turn for that station. He turned around when you approached him, his confused features mirroring your own.

‘Umm I’m meant to be on this station today.’ You informed him, not quite understanding why he didn’t already know that. You had all been on this training timetable for as long as you could remember.

‘No you’re not.’ Chenle replied bluntly, staring at you as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

‘Yeah, I am.’ Chenle shook his head at you but you persisted. ‘Yes, I am! I was on distance training yesterday so now I’m on this. Aren’t you on strength and conditioning?’ You stared at him expectantly but instead watched as worry spread across his face.

‘Y/n...’ His voice was low, quite as if he wasn’t sure how to tell you this. ‘You did physical agility three days ago.’

‘What do you mean?’ You asked, unable to quite wrap your mind around this new piece of information.

‘I mean you did this activity three days ago.’ He repeated, his eyes widening with worry. ‘Don’t you remember?’

You shook your head and took a shaky step back. By this point the other boys had begun to notice the conversation between the two of you, prompting them to come over and see what was wrong. Jeno placed a hand on your should, having just overheard the last two sentences.

‘Y/n, what do you remember?’ He looked you straight in the eyes.

‘I don’t know.’ You repeated the words you had already said multiple times today, fear and frustration growing.

‘What did they do to you in that lab?’ He questioned, desperate for an answer.

‘I don’t know.’ You could hear the emotion creeping out in your voice.

‘Think!’ Jeno said, shaking you by the shoulders gently.

‘I don’t know! I don’t remember!’ You raised your voice, your body beginning to shake. All of the other boys stared at you in horror and you fell into Jeno’s hug whispering a scared. ‘Why don’t I remember?’

It was Jaemin’s voice that spoke the words you were all thinking but too afraid to say, scared of what it would mean for you all.

‘They wiped her memory.’

---

You eyes opened to the harsh light above you as the same rhythmic beeping woke you up. Even though you have woke up to the same noise for as long as you can remember, it still drives you insane to listen to it.

You rolled over, pulling your pillow over your head as you waited for it to stop. You felt a weight on the side of your bed and hands gently pull the pillow off your face. You opened one eye to be greeted with Jeno’s smiling face. You couldn’t help but let out a smile at the little crescents his eyes made each time he smiled. It always managed to make you happy as well.

You rolled onto your back and shut your eyes again, pulling one arm over to help block out some of the light that was still making its way though. Jeno’s hand came up to rub your arm comfortingly.

‘How are you feeling today?’ He asked, his voice slightly raspy from just having woken up.

You groaned out as a response

‘I don’t know. Better, I guess. We talked about it a lot yesterday which helped. At least now we know how much I’m missing.’

You removed your arm from your eyes and looked at the boy above you who was nodding.

‘Three days, including an entire visit to the lab. We have to assume that something happened that they didn’t want you to remember.’ He mused, the logical and rational side of his brain showing.

‘But what?’ You wondered. It annoyed you so much that the only person who had these answers was you, and you couldn’t even remember them.

The cell door buzzed and a guard walked in. You lifted your head to get a look at his number. 23. No luck. He threw the jumpsuits onto the end of your bed and then proceeded to stare at the two of you.

‘Stay apart. No need to be that close.’ He ordered, but neither of you moved. ‘I said, keep distance between the two of you. Stay on your own bed!’

He took a step forward, as if he was preparing to pull the two of you away from each other, but you acted faster. You threw your hand out, making a pushing motion and watched as the guard flew out of the door, landing on his bum a few feet back.

He stumbled to his feet, attempting to stammer out an insult or some other kind of attempt to show off his power, but instead just settled on slamming the door shut.

The lock buzzed and Jeno turned to look at you, shock and amazement clear on his face.

‘How did you manage that? That took almost no effort.’

You sighed.

‘I’m tired.’

Jeno’s brows furrowed at your reply.

‘But you’re like me in that being tired means it takes more effort and focus to use your abilities.’

You nodded at him as you explained yourself.

‘Yep. But I’m not that kind of tired. I mean I am, but most of all, I’m tired of this. This life, whatever it is. I’m tired of being treated like I’m a monster, I’m tired of the experiments, I’m tired of the training, I’m fed up with being here.’ You turned your head to look at Jeno after your confession and watched as he nodded with a sad but understanding smile on his face.

‘Yeah... me too.’ He admitted, his voice soft.

‘I know.’ You whispered.

---

You exited your cell, ready for the day and saw guards lined up by your door. You and Jeno shared a confused look, wondering where the doctor’s were, when the guard next to Jisung began to speak.

‘From now on, we’ll be administering your serum.’ He then turned to the boy in front of him. ‘Arm out.’

The guard by your door did the same, grabbing your wrist and exposing your inner elbow. He placed the syringe just below the joint and pressed down. You winced at the feeling that you were unfortunately used to and stepped away so that Jeno could get his. You then waited for the usual symptoms to hit you, watching as your friends turned into the comatose shells of themselves that you were expecting.

But they never came.

Your mind remained as sharp and aware as ever, and you could feel every thought that ran through your mind. You turned back to look at Jeno and, one look at his eyes told you that he was feeling the exact same thing. Your eyes flickered towards the guard who administered your serum and you focused on the number on his arm.

10.

Jeno followed your gaze and looked back at you with wide eyes. The guard began to walk towards the two of you and, out of the corner of your eye, you could see the other guards doing the same so you didn’t think too much of it. Until he began to speak.

‘You’re heading to the rose room.’ He then made sure to look the both of you directly in the eyes. ‘And you’re under the usual effects of the serum.’

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving both you and Jeno alone. You decided to just do what he said and head to the rose room, but you made sure to act as though you were feeling the usual effects of the serum. You moved lethargically, dragging your feet and keeping your eyes ahead at all times. Jeno did the same, both of you faking it the entire way there, while wondering what the hell was going on.

---

You stood at your usual position in the rose room, gathering ingredients and putting them on the conveyer belt like you always did. When you entered the room it was hard not to react to anything. The range of brilliant colours blinded you as you entered and it took everything in you not to just stop and stare.

You noticed that, out of the all the subjects there, that you guessed would be around one hundred, it only looked like your group was under the serum. The rest of them seemed very much aware of their surroundings and what they were doing. When gathering the ingredients you took a quick look at what it was exactly that you were gathering. When you got a glimpse of the label, your heart stopped. These were the same bottles that were found in the lab. It wasn’t until you managed to look over every different object obtained from the genetically modified roses, that you realised you had spent your entire life gathering the solutions and serums that the doctors had used to perform experiments on you.

You had been assisting in your own torture.

You found yourself standing at your final station, a girl you didn’t recognise on your right and the space to your left was empty. The guards began to march between you all, weaving their way through the working subjects. They stopped next to you, so close that you could feel their breath on the back on your neck.

The hairs on your arm began to rise and goosebumps began to form at the close contact. You prayed that they couldn’t see your reaction, knowing that it would give away your state. But they weren’t there for you.

The guards grabbed the girl on your right by her shoulders and pulled her backwards. They held her underneath each arm and dragged her out of the rose room. Her screams, struggles and pleas for help went completely ignored as she was eventually pulled out of sight. No one took any notice, not single subject seemed to realise what had just happened. You could her your heart pounding louder than every before, the girl’s screams still echoing in your head, haunting your thoughts.

A sudden bell sounded through the rose room, one that you recognised as signalling the end of the session. You turned in your spot, waiting for your turn to leave as all the subjects filed out of the rose room in orderly fashion. The fact that the girl was taken at the end of the session made you nervous. Is that what the guards were doing when walking through you all? Looking for their next target? And how long it would be until it was one of you?

---

After the longest day yet, you and Jeno were back in your cell. The door locked behind you and you both turned and stared at each other in disbelief.

‘How much have we missed by being under the serum?’ You asked.

‘They must only put us under it so that they can get away with doing all those things, it’s not to protect us at all.’ Jeno stated and you nodded in agreement.

‘And did you see what we were gathering in the rose room?’ You brought up, watching as Jeno’s eyes widened in realisation.

‘The solutions they use in the lab! And what did they do to that poor girl?’ His voice softened as you both thought about the subject being dragged away from you all, begging for help.

‘I didn’t even know her name.’ You muttered.

‘Me neither.’ Jeno admitted. ‘But did you notice, I don’t think anyone other than our group was under the simulation.’

‘Yes!’ You agreed. ‘I saw that too. Everyone else seemed perfectly aware of what was going on.’

Jeno nodded and you sat down on your bed, your brain feeling as though it was about to explode.

‘Huh...’ You mumbled, a sudden thought crossing your mind.

Jeno turned his head towards you, his eyebrows furrowing at the confused look on your face.

‘What?’ He questioned.

‘It’s just... the other subjects were definitely awake. It was obvious that they hadn’t been given the serum that we normally are. So, why didn’t they react to that girl being taken by the guards.’ You pondered.

Jeno thought for a moment, sitting down on his own bed opposite you.

‘Maybe they’re used to it.’ He suggested. ‘We don’t know how often that happens, it could be considered normal.’

‘I guess.’ You conceded. ‘But they didn’t react at all... I mean, even if you’re used to it, she was screaming for her life and they didn’t even spare a glance. It’s strange not to take any notice of that. I mean, we only didn’t because we had to act as if we were still under the serum.’

Jeno didn’t reply for a second, his eyes fixated on his hands that fiddling were in his lap.

‘Why do you think we weren’t given the serum?’ He asked, looking up at you.

You opened your mouth to tell him that you had no idea, but the lock on your door buzzed, and it swung open. Four guards stalked in causing you and Jeno to both stand out of shock. You were never disturbed at this time unless it was to take you to the lab, and it was Renjun’s night tonight.

Two of the guards approached you, the other two heading towards Jeno.

‘What’s happening?’ Jeno asked, but he was ignored.

Not a words was uttered by the guards as they grabbed you by the arms and began to drag you out of your cell. You began to kick and scream, struggling with all your might to break free.

‘Jesus, why can’t she go quiet?’ One of the guards complained, earning a groan from his partner.

‘Just get her to the lab and stop complaining.’

The lab...

You began to throw yourself about, desperate to not go back there, whatever the cost. You had no idea what it was that was making you react this violently, but your instincts kicked it and told you to fight with all your might.

Upon seeing you reaction, Jeno tried to reach for you, but he was stopped by the other two guards who grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him back. They held onto him tight as he tried to break through them.

‘Y/n! Let go!’ He yelled out, trying to land a hit on one of the guards.

‘Jeno!’ You called back, kicking out with your feet in an attempt to throw the guards off balance.

‘Y/N!’ You could hear Jeno crying out for you as you were pulled out of the cell completely. You just managed to see the two guards holding Jeno throw him to the floor before they turned to leave. They locked the door, with you on the outside and Jeno on the inside.

You continued to be dragged away, crying out for dear life, begging someone to come and help you. But no one did. They all acted as if you didn’t exist. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was how that girl had felt earlier. Screaming and pleading for someone to save her, only to be treated like a ghost.

Jeno’s screams for you could still be heard halfway down the corridor, along with the heavy banging against the door from him throwing his body against it in an attempt to get out.

As you approached the lab door, every morsel of your being was telling you, screaming at you, not to go back in there. But you didn’t have a choice. The two guards threw you into the lab, one of them following you in, before the door was locked shut. You were stuck in the lab with one doctor and one guard, and you were terrified.

You banged on the door, trying desperately to get out. You were so frantic that you couldn’t hear the doctor trying to get your attention. It was only when you realised that they were making no effort to restrain or cuff you that you managed to calm yourself down slightly.

You turned away from the door, the tear tracks down your face prominent. You weren’t sure when you had started crying, the utter terror you had been feeling having taken over your entire body.

The doctor took one step towards you, holding up his hands as if in surrender, but also to show you that he wasn’t holding anything.

‘Well done y/n. Just try to keep yourself calm okay? Breathe... Can you do that for me?’

You didn’t reply to him, simply staring at the man that seemed to act as if he cared for you. These doctors didn’t care for you. Normally you would be handcuffed to the table, screaming in pain by now, but for some reason you were standing upright being told to breathe.

The guard to your left took off his helmet, causing you to take a breath of surprise. You had never seen a guard with his helmet off before, much less one this close. You gawked as the man smiled at you, a genuine, comforting smile that for some reason made you feel safe.

The doctor began to speak again.

‘Y/n, we’re not going to hurt you. In fact, we’re trying to help you. My name’s Doyoung and this is Ten.’

‘Uh huh...’ You stuttered, not really managing to get any real words out.

‘Ten administered your serum this morning, the serum I created for you. And you probably don’t need me to tell you that it was a fake.’

You nodded at the doctor’s words, still trying to calm your racing heart.

‘We did that because there’s a lot that you don’t know about this place that we think you should.’ The doctor, Doyoung, then turned to the guard. ‘Ten can you get her some water?’

The guard, who you assumed went by his uniform number 10, nodded before standing up.

‘Do you want to sit down?’ Doyoung asked, pulling up a chair for you.

You nodded, gladly taking the chair and very grateful that he didn’t ask you to sit on the table. Ten offered you a glass of water, which you took with a small smile as thanks. You took a sip, relishing in how the cool liquid managed to calm your mind.

‘Ok, keep going.’ You said and Doyoung’s eyebrows raised in surprise. ‘Why are you surprised? Like you said, after what I’ve seen today, I’m not so sure that this place is really meant to keep me safe.’

Doyoung sighed and looked down sadly.

‘It isn’t. This place isn’t designed to keep you safe, but rather to keep you in. It’s a prison. I know that to you it seems as though there are hundreds of people here, but there aren’t. Only the eight of you on your floor are being kept here.’

You let out a deep breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

‘A prison...’ You whispered. ‘Only for the eight of us?’

Doyoung nodded and Ten placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

‘Why us?’ You asked.

Doyoung and Ten shared a look, making you dread what was coming next.

‘Please, just tell me what I am.’ You begged, so tired of having spent your entire life not knowing the most basic thing about you.

‘Doyoung, she needs to know.’ Ten said, as Doyoung sighed.

‘Yeah, I know. There’s no easy way to tell you this y/n. The world fell into chaos slightly. Political leaders began to clash more and more with each other and, before we knew it, we were on the brink of a third world war. One that, this time, really would involve the whole world, and with the creation of nuclear weapons, our government want something that would set us apart from everywhere else. He decided to turn his intentions to modifying humans. He exposed children to certain chemicals and levels of radiation when they were young to see if anything had an affect on them. Eventually he found success, but at a very large cost.’

‘How large?’ You whispered, scared of the answer. Ten spoke up this time, making you turn your head towards him.

‘He tested on over three hundred thousand children. You eight are the only survivors.’

You didn’t know how to react. Eight out of three hundred thousand. Who would be willing to pay that high of a price?

‘What does that make me? A weapon?’ You asked, your voice quiet, almost inaudible.

‘You were human, at some point. Now, we’re not sure. I would believe the closest definition is a mutant of some kind, but y/n, you have to remember that this doesn’t define you.’ Doyoung leaned forward but you shook your head.

‘I’m not human, I’m a mutant, a weapon, an experiment. I’m nothing more than an experiment, a toy for you to play with in your lab. That why I’m prisoner here. I’m a monster.’ You were spiralling, caught up in a mess of reality and new information, you couldn’t control where your mind was heading.

‘Y/n, Doyoung is right, this doesn’t define who you are.’ Ten tried to reassure you but you whirled on him.

‘Doesn’t define me? Yes it does! It literally is what I am, how can you say it doesn’t define me?’ You accused.

‘Because you’re more than that! Beneath all that’s been done to you, all we’ve done to you, we know that you’re people. You are human, you think and feel as we do, you love like we do, you die like we do. And who gives a damn about what made you what you are. It’s who you are that matters.’ Doyoung stood up during his small speech. He somehow managed to verbally slap some sense into you, allowing you a brief moment to calm your mind.

‘The others need to know.’ You blurted, your thoughts suddenly drifting back to Jeno.

‘Yes, and we will tell them.’ Ten reassured.

‘Tonight.’ You insisted. ‘They’ve been through exactly the same thing I have. Why should I get to know the truth and they shouldn’t?’

Both Doyoung and Ten looked at each other, having short, silent conversation before Doyoung sighed and agreed with you.

‘Ok, tonight. Ten go and fetch them from their cells. The doors are locked so the corridors should be empty of guards.’

Ten nodded and left the room quickly, stopping briefly to scan the hallways and only continuing once he knew it was clear. The door automatically shut softly behind him. You suddenly remembered something else Doyoung said, causing you to turn back to face him once more.

‘What changed your mind?’ You asked, only receiving a very confused look from the doctor in return. ‘You’ve worked on us for years, as a trainee then as a real doctor. You haven’t had this position long, so why are you risking everything you’ve worked for? When did you start to think of us as humans?’

A guilty look crossed Doyoung’s face.

‘I’ve done some terrible things to you, to all of you, over the years, and I cannot apologise enough for that. I always thought... that we were doing the right thing, the thing that should be done. We needed something to set us apart or, before we knew it, we would be a speck of dust on the ground, bombed within an inch of our lives. But that was over ten years ago, and you guys haven’t left the facility once. I kept telling myself that it would be worth it, that this was all being done for a reason, and that you would understand that. But then I was in the lab and something made me look at a subject differently. The way he acted, it was something so vulnerable, so human, that it changed my perspective completely.’

‘What was it?’ You asked, immersed in Doyoung emotional words.

‘It was Jeno. He was undergoing a procedure that had been done a thousand times before, but the head doctor that day decided to make some changes. I don’t know what he did, but Jeno started to scream, and not just shout out in a bit of pain, I mean, properly scream. I could hear the strain on his vocal cords and he started crying out and begging for help like I had never heard anyone beg before and he kept calling for the same person over and over.’

‘Who did he call out for?’ Your voice was shaking slightly, your emotions running high at the thought of what could have made Jeno scream out like that.

Doyoung looked at you, complete sincerity in his eyes.

‘You. He called out for you.’

Before you could reply, or even process this information, the door to the lab burst open and the other boys all piled in. Jeno spotted you, alive, awake and well and made his way towards you immediately. He pulled you in for a tight hug as soon as he reached you, wrapping his arms securely around your waist.

‘Oh thank god, you’re okay.’ He whispered. He pulled back and brushed the hair out of your face, holding your cheeks in his hands while he searched your face for any sign of pain. ‘Are you okay?’

You nodded in response. ‘Yeah I’m okay. But you guys need to hear this.’

You watched as Doyoung and Ten explained to the other boys what they had just told you. You watched as they went through exactly the same reactions that you did. And you watched as each of them managed to process this information in their own way.

‘There’s only one thing left to tell you all.’ Ten said, watching as eight pairs of scared eyes looked up at him. ‘We’re going to break you out.’

‘I’m sorry, you’re gonna what?’ Renjun asked, voicing the shock you were all feeling.

‘You’re more than just subjects, more than just experiments, you’re people. And you don’t get the chance to just be people when you’re trapped here. So tomorrow, we’re gonna break you out.’ Doyoung explained.

‘Tomorrow?’ Chenle questioned and both Doyoung and Ten nodded in confirmation.

‘What’s happens after that? Where do we go next? All we’ve known is this facility, so what will we do outside of it?’ Jaemin piped up, thankfully thinking ahead for all of you.

‘I already have a truck ready for us to escape in tomorrow, from there we will drive out of range so that they can’t detect us. Doyoung and I know some people who are willing to help. We’ll stay with them for a while and then, eventually, reintegrate the eight of you back into the world, and allow you to lie the normal life you’ve always been deprived of.’ Ten spoke. You sat there silently, just taking all this information in. You were getting out, and not only that, but also going to get the life you never thought you would ever be able to. You weren’t sure what life would be like on the outside, but as long as you had the guys there, you knew you would be okay.

You felt a pair of eyes on you and turned your head, only to catch Jeno staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. He looked away as soon as you noticed him, clearing his throat before asking one last question.

‘So... how are we getting out of here?’

---

You lay in bed that night, unable to sleep. You knew that you could probably do with a good rest, but your mind was so active that it was impossible. You couldn’t tell if Jeno was awake too, worried that if he wasn’t you might wake him from your constant moving. Doyoung revelation about him calling out for you when in pain was plaguing your mind as well. You had often found yourself thinking of Jeno when you were undergoing procedures in the lab, but you had always dismissed it as wondering what state you would be in when you were returned to your roommate. Was it possible that it was something more? You can’t deny that you’ve felt something for Jeno, he was kind, compassionate, empathetic and so damn loyal to you.

‘Y/n?’ Jeno’s voice disrupted your thoughts, causing you to jump out of your skin.

You swallowed before replying.

‘Yeah?’

‘Oh you’re awake too.’ He mumbled.

‘Yeah... I can’t sleep.’ You admitted.

‘Me neither.’

The conversation stopped for a minute and, for the first time since you met him, you didn’t know what to say to Jeno. You felt colder in your bed than you ever had before and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into his and fall asleep there.

‘Y/n?’ Jeno spoke again, much softer this time.

‘Yeah?’ You whispered back.

‘I’m cold...’ He confessed and you could almost hear the blush that you knew would be dusting his cheeks.

Before you let the surge of courage you felt pass, you climbed out of your bed and padded softly over to his.

‘Move over.’ You instructed, gently tapping his side.

He did just as you told him too, moving himself to the edge so that you could climb in. You lay facing each other for a while and you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his eyes. He lifted up a hand to move a stray piece of hair out of your face and sighed.

You shut your eyes slowly, hoping that by being closer to him you would be able to get some rest. The only problem was, the beds that you slept on were not the largest and could only really fit one person. You found yourself almost pressed up against his chest and that made it very hard for you to calm your rapidly beating heart.

‘Hold on, bear with me for a second.’ Jeno mumbled as he moved himself around slightly. You squeaked in surprise when you felt his hands come to waist, pulling you halfway onto his chest as he settled down on his back.

‘Is this ok?’ He asked hesitantly, and you nodded in response.

Even though you were practically lying on top of him, you couldn’t deny that this position was much more comfortable. From here you could hear his heartbeat and you allowed the consistent rhythm of it to help lull you to sleep.

You wrapped your arm around his waist, the other coming up to rest on his chest as his arms found their way around your shoulder and stroking your hair. You closed your eyes and felt yourself finally drift off to sleep, almost missing the soft sentence Jeno whispered into your hair.

‘I don’t know what will happen once we get out of here, but please just... don’t leave me. I think I need you more than you know.’

---

For as long as you can remember, you have woken up to the sound of the high pitched repetitive beep of the alarm. Not today.

You were quickly pulled out of your sleep to the sound of alarms blaring, red lights flashing and shouting in the corridor. You and Jeno shared a sleepy but scared look before quickly climbing out of bed. You bit your lip slightly in embarrassment as you remembered the position that the two of you slept in last night. Jeno approached your door and pushed on it gently. The door swung open and the two of you stared in disbelief.

You followed him out into the corridor and found yourself standing in the middle of the chaos. Guards and doctors were running up and down the corridors shouting commands and arguing with each other while the eight of you all stood in your doorways, confused to high heavens.

‘Grab them now!’ You heard one of the doctors yell as you were finally noticed. ‘They’re not getting away.’

You saw a guard lunge for Chenle, who quickly turned into a fly and disappeared from sight. Three other guards ran towards you and Jeno, their intentions obvious and the two of you immediately began to move. Jeno threw up a gust of air, knocking them off their feet, while you pulled doors open and moved their legs so that they were constantly tripping over.

‘Guys we have to get out of here now!’ Mark yelled over the noise.

He suddenly appeared from nowhere, making you jump.

‘They somehow found out about our plan, either we leave now, or we’re never getting out.’ And with that he was gone, disappearing at the speed of light.

Jeno opened up a hailstorm on the guard in front of him, his efforts useless against the tough armour that they were wearing. You pulled out a metal drawer from one of the cells and used your telekinesis to ram in into the guard’s leg.

He crumpled where he stood, his head landing hard on the concrete. Your eyes went wide as he lay there unmoving for a second, until he let out a breath and groaned in pain. Jeno’s grabbed your arm and shouted something at you that you didn’t quite catch, you eye still fixated on the guard in front of you.

You really were dangerous. You had hurt someone. And it had taken very little effort from you to do so. What could you do if you really wanted to hurt someone? How badly could you hurt someone without meaning to?

You lost focus on your surroundings, Jeno’s sudden pull on your arm causing you to lose balance. You managed not to fall over, but it slowed you down. You forced yourself to focus, to think rationally, to prioritise leaving and then you could figure out the extent of your abilities.

But you were too late. One of the doctors noticed your stumble and grabbed a taser from a fallen guard. They quickly pushed it into, electrocuting you where you stood. You mouth fell open as a scream tore out of it and your body collapsed onto the ground.

Your mind went fuzzy, everything around you slowing down as you tried to take it all in. You vaguely registered Jeno screaming out for you as you lay on the cold floor. You lifted your eyes and stared into the open door in front of you. It took you a few seconds to realise that you were staring into the lab. You watched as one of the guards cornered Doyoung, who stood with his hands up trying to explain something. They didn’t listen however, and you watched as the guard pulled a gun out of nowhere and squeezed the trigger.

Doyoung doubled over, a red patch forming on his stomach. His back hit the counter behind him and he sank down towards the ground, the pain evident on his face. The red mark on his shirt was growing by the second until it covered half of his lower stomach. You found yourself staring into the dull, lifeless eyes of the one doctor here who had actually tried to look out for you.

Your eyes welled up with tears, blurring your vision. You barely felt the arms that hooked under your elbows and began to drag you down the corridor. The last things you registered before you blacked out were Jeno screaming for you, and Doyoung’s dead body.

---

‘God this kid is a pain.’

‘I know man, I don’t get why we have to be stuck here with her.’

‘Doyoung though? Hmmm, I didn’t see that betrayal coming.’

‘Really? Out of everyone, I’m least surprised that it was him. He always had the weakest stomach when it came to things like this.’

You heard the voices before you even realised that you were awake. The guards in your room were having a casual chat while they waited for you to wake up. Your head was pounding and your mouth tasted like pennies. You scrunched up your face in discomfort, trying to open your eyes but with little success.

‘Oh, look. I think she’s coming back...’

You groaned out slightly, your mind suddenly becoming aware of the pain your body was in. You forced your eyes open, regretting that choice as soon as you were blinded by the harsh white light of whatever room you were currently being kept in.

You blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust to your surroundings, before taking a quick look around. You definitely weren’t in your cell anymore. You found yourself chained to the wall, literally. There were heavy metal cuffs around your wrists, ankles, stomach and even your neck. Each of those cuffs were attached to a chain that was embedded into the wall behind you.

They had taken every measure possible to imprison you somewhere they knew you wouldn’t be able to escape from.

You lifted your head and found yourself staring at two guards, both with their helmets off. They looked at you with such patronising looks on their faces, but you couldn’t focus on them. Your eyes were trained on the cupboard behind them, an open cupboard that you could see was filled with guard uniforms.

One of the guards followed your line of sight and laughed.

‘You’re not in our cloak room, don’t worry sweet heart. You’re in the maximum security room at the end of the hall.’

Your blood ran cold at his revelation. No one who entered this room ever made it out alive. But then, that was before you learnt that there were only eight of you actually being held in this facility... You really had no idea what this meant for you.

‘Allow me to explain.’ The other guard took a step forwards. ‘Every time you get drugged and tiptoe off the the rose room to do your work, we walk in and grab a random person standing next to one of you and drag them back here. Now their job is to just scream and kick and draw as much attention to themselves as they can while everyone else ignores them. Once they get here do you know what they do? They get back into their guard uniform and go back to work. All those people you know, everyone in the rose room with you, all of them are one of us.’ He let out a laugh. ‘I can’t believe you were stupid enough to think that they were real subjects!’

The first guard joined in, enjoying taunting you when you were at your most vulnerable.

‘God you really are stupid aren’t you?’ He commented. ‘You thought you were getting out? You’re never going to get out of here. You’re simply going to be stuck here for the rest of your life.’

The other guard laughed again.

‘Yeah, you know that war you were made for. It’s not going to happen so you really aren’t ever getting out. You’re too scared to hurt one of us, how would you ever be useful in a war?’

‘God you’re such a waste of space. I can’t believe that out of the hundreds of thousands that went through the initial testing, she was one of the few to survive.’

‘Tell me about it. Why is she even in maximum security? She probably wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

The guards continued with their taunts, each one crueler than the last. You tried everything you could to block them out, but it was difficult. Especially when they were right, you had been useless. It’s because you were too scared to hurt a guard’s leg that all of you are stuck here forever. This is your fault.

‘No it isn’t.’ Jaemin’s voice echoed through your head, startling you. ‘Ignore them y/n. None of this is your fault, it’s theirs. Don’t forget who put you there in the first place. Now, listen to me, you need to get out of there. Now. I don’t care how you do it, but y/n, it’s time to go.’

The guards continued to taunt you, telling you how powerless you were and you started to feel your anger grow. Jaemin was right, these people did put you in here. They imprisoned you, tortured you and the people you care about. They put you through hours upon hours of pain, just to tell you that you weren’t good enough.

You pulled your hands closed into fists and focused your mind like you never have before. You channelled your anger into your being, thinking of everything you’ve lost, everything they’ve taken from you. A family, a normal life, the ability to just be human. You felt the power rumble from within you. It was like nothing you had ever felt before. It grew from your soul, feeding off your raw emotions, evolving and mutating as it made its way throughout your limbs. It finally reached your head and your opened your eyes. They were pure gold.

The guards stopped their conversation and stared at you in fear, completely at a loss as to what they should do.

You finally understood. You weren’t human. You were so much more than that. And it was time they learnt just how powerful you could be.

You threw your head back, and screamed.

You unleashed all the power within you as a sheer bolt of energy. The chains imprisoning you shattered, falling to the floor. The guards were throw backwards, both of them hitting the wall with a sickening crack, and your door was blown off its hinges. You stood and began to move, feeling every part and every being in the universe working with you and you knew, this is what true power felt like.

You had no idea how to come down from it, you were so taken over that you didn’t feel the hand that gently found its way into yours until you were being turned where you stood and found yourself looking into Jeno’s eyes.

‘Come back to me y/n.’ He whispered, pulling you into his chest and stroking your hair. You let go of all the anger you were feeling, choosing instead to ground yourself with the boy in front of you. ‘We have to go.’

‘I heard.’ You mumbled, pulling yourself away from him chest.

You ran through the corridor, gathering all the boys on the way. Jeno had managed to create a mini hurricane in his room, effectively blowing his way out of the cell he was in. Jisung quite literally just barrelled straight through his door, but he once again misjudged his strength and couldn’t stop himself. He kept going straight into the door on the opposite side of the corridor, luckily bursting it open it for Renjun.

It the situation weren’t so dire you probably would have fallen over laughing at the scene in front of you.

Chenle turned into a midge and flew through the key hole of his cell door, making you admire the boy’s talent to find a loophole in every scenario. Jaemin used his mind control to get the guard who was watching him to open the door for him. Also making the guard bow for him as he walked out as a finishing touch. You couldn’t help but smile at that. Jisung pulled off the doors of both Mark’s and Donghyuck’s cells and the eight of you ran.

You turned a corner and barrelled straight into a guard. All of you threw up your hands, ready to fight, until you saw that it was Ten. Instead of getting a punch in the face, Ten found himself with eight superhuman teens hugging him with all their might.

‘Ok, let’s do this later, the truck’s outside. Go!’

He pushed you all off his and pointed towards the door in front of you. You ran towards it, turning your head to the left as you passed the lab and not missing Doyoung’s body, still lying there on the floor. You swallowed back your tears, promising that you would mourn him properly later, and pushed forwards. You burst out of the doors, shocked beyond belief to find yourself in a lobby of some kind. Your entire life, you thought you had been in the sub basement section of a facility, but really you had been above ground the whole time.

You didn’t have time to marvel however, because, as soon as you were spotted, the alarms went off. They blared through the building and you took that as your cue to leave.

Jisung ran first, easily breaking the main doors open, despite their heavy lock, and the eight of you poured outside. You saw the truck that Ten had mentioned, the trademark number 10 a sign that it was yours. It was on the outside of the barbed wire fence that surrounded the facility. The fence was too high to climb so you took a deep breath and held your arms out. You pulled them apart, imaging a rip and watched as the fence tore in two.

You all sprinted through the fence and piled into the truck that was waiting for you. There was a fabric roof and some metal beams making the skeleton on the inside so you held onto that as you climbed in. Mark moved around to the front seat and you look out, waiting for Ten. You needed him to drive this truck as none of you could.

Ten finally appeared, running at full speed towards you.

‘Go!’ He screamed. ‘Just go!’

You wanted to shout back to him but you never got the chance to. The gunshot rang out loudly and Ten fell straight to the ground. He lay face down in the grass, not breathing, not moving a muscle.

He was dead.

‘Mark... Mark drive. We need to go.’ Donghyuck’s shaky voice tore you out of your trance. Mark moved himself so that he was in the driver’s seat and turned the key.

‘Ok, I can figure this out.’ He reassured himself.

‘Well can you do it now because we have some rather unfriendly company arriving in about thirty seconds. And you don’t want to know what they’ll do if they catch us.’ Donghyuck warned, making all your eyes widen in fear. When the boy who can see the future tells you that something is going to happen, you’ve learnt that the best thing to do would be to listen to him.

Mark moved the gear stick into ‘D’ and slammed his foot down on a random pedal. Luckily he seemed to get the right one because you all lurched forwards, speeding away from the facility. Mark’s super speed means that he has extremely fast reflexes, making it very useful for when he needs to learn a new skill. He reacted quickly to the movements of the car and it didn’t take long before you were smoothly driving away from the prison that was also happened to be the only home you’ve ever know.

Renjun shuffled in his seat, facing his body out the back of the truck and towards the facility. He lifted up his hands, turning his palms out before suddenly clenching them into fists. He then sat back down, his back hitting the seat as he let out a deep sigh.

‘Just a quick image of an empty field. It’ll throw them off the scent long enough for us to get out of here.’ He explained before leaning his head back and shutting his eyes.

You looked back at the large building that was disappearing rapidly into the distance and thought of Doyoung and Ten. The two who risked everything so that you could all be where you are now. And they were the two who paid the ultimate price.

You felt your eyes beginning to droop, the gentle movements of the car lulling your tiring body to sleep. You felt Jeno’s arm come around your shoulder and you leant into his warmth, relishing in the comfort of being close to him. Only now did you realise how exhausted you really were. You allowed your head to fall onto Jeno’s shoulder, feeling his arm tighten slightly around you, and you felt safe.

For the first time, ever, you felt safe.

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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years ago

Text

Double Heart | Chapter Ten ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 4422

Warnings: Canon-level violence

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Just so you know, I start playing a little fast and loose with ‘elf-lore’ right about here. Thanks so much for all your responses to the previous chapters! Happy reading <3

We retire early, each of us exhausted from our long journey. Elrond arranged rooms for us in his expansive home, which I found out is the heart of the city. I guess when you found a town, it makes sense that you get the largest estate. At Elrond’s instruction, a female attendant leads me up a flight of stairs and down a long hallway. She opens a door to my left to revel a large room with a four-poster bed, table, chaise lounge, couch, fireplace, and, through an archway to the side, a full bathroom. Pillows and blankets decorate every available surface and I notice a large selection of books and candles. After two weeks on the road, I want nothing more than to bury myself in this room’s amenities.

“Wow,” I breathe, unable to do much more in my state of awe and fatigue.

“Lord Elrond knows about your fear of heights and has placed you in one of the most innermost rooms of the estate. Your windows will offer you views of our waterfalls but you are nowhere near to the edge. I hope it is to your liking.”

I smile, my already present fondness for Elrond growing. Though, I do wonder which of my friends told him about my fear of heights. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

The attendant nods, leading me to a chest of drawers. “You will find clothing here and bathing provisions in the bathroom. Meals are three times a day and you may join the others in the common hall or request to dine in your chambers. If you require my assistance, I am in the room at the very end of the hall and to the right. I hope you sleep well.” She curtsies deeply and I wonder if I should do the same. Just to be on the safe side, I place one leg behind the other and squat, awkwardly attempting to mirror her movement. She puts great effort into suppressing a smile, but inclines her head in acknowledgment of my efforts before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

What am I going to do?

This place is dangerous. It’s terrifying. And yes, I feel relatively safe within Elrond’s walls, but he said it himself—just last month, orcs attempted to infiltrate the city. What if they try again, only this time, they succeed? And with some evil being on the rise? Nope, no way. I don’t think I can deal with that.

I throw myself facedown on the large bed, groaning in frustration. This world that I’ve only just accepted to be real is showing me just how real it is. The honeymoon phase is over. The rose-colored glasses have been lifted from my eyes, and what I see paints a dark, fearful scene.

Yet, even still…I cannot ignore the part of me that so badly wants to stay.

The people I’ve met here—humans, elves—does it really matter? Whatever they are, whatever I am at this point, honestly, does it actually, in the grand scheme of things, matter? Because I like them. I care about them. More than anything, I don’t want to leave them, to go back to a world of people I don’t know.

But danger and my friends are a package deal.

And I don’t know if I’m equipped to handle that.

I flip around into a seated position, letting my head flop into my hands.

I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed. I’m stressed. And I’m exhausted. Now, I need to sleep. Everything else can wait until morning.

I haul myself off the feathered mattress and drag my heavy feet to the chest of drawers. As far as sleep items go, I find only nightgowns, but they’ll have to do. It’s much better than sleeping in the muddied clothing I’ve traveled in for two weeks.

I change quickly and blow out the candles I rely on to light my room. I crawl into bed, pulling the thick duvet up to my ears. Before I know it, sleep calms my racing mind.

{***}

I wake in the mountains.

A roar, guttural and angry, comes from behind me and I throw myself into a sprint. I stumble over the uneven terrain, catching my foot on rocks and scraping my shins, but I keep going. Whatever I suffer running away is surely better than being at the mercy of the beast that pursues me.

Brown, gnashing teeth cut me off and I shriek, falling onto my back. An orc with its stinking, rotting breath descends on me, dagger cutting into my arm. I cry out not only in pain but in panic, for the blood that falls to the ground is not red — no, it is thick, dark sludge.

I’m underwater.

The sludge suffocates me. It fills my lungs and burns as it slides over my skin. I kick, desperate to get away.

Below me, a honeyed voice sings. It beckons to me, begs me to come deeper, to let myself sink. It promises safety, security.

It promises peace.

“Cosima.”

Haldir’s voice far above me sounds muffled as it travels through the murky waters. I snap my head up. I can’t see anything, only the darkness, but I know that if I can somehow get to him, if I can follow his voice, then I will reach the surface.

“Cosima!” Rumil shouts for me now.

My name, called in turn by each of my new friends, overlaps, drowning out the sweet sounds from below.

My vision darkens. I have gone too long without breath — I have to make a decision.

I kick my legs, propelling myself upwards.

{***}

I break through the surface, sputtering and gasping for air.

Light—harsh and bright orange—momentarily blinds me. As my eyes adjust, I recognize the puffy white duvet, the cool grey of the stone walls, the soft pink flowers cascading from the ceiling. I’m in my guest bed in Elrond’s house. I never left my room. I never lost to an attacker in the mountains. I never fell into the water.

It was just a dream.

Water—the roaring sound of the waterfalls—while muted, is still subtly audible in the background. And my dream—it was nearly exactly what I imagined before waking in Arda. The sound from the waterfalls must have triggered it.

Just a dream, I remind myself, trying to calm my racing heart.

A sharp knock disrupts the silence of the room and sends stabs of pain through my head — bad dreams and a headache, too, I guess. The knock sounds again and I groan, forcing myself to leave the coziness of my covers and pad on bare feet to the door.

It’s Haldir. He stands, hand still raised, in fresh clothes and even more armor than yesterday. His bow is slung over his back, a quiver and sword rest at his hips. I try not to let my thoughts get away from me with overreaction — surely this isn’t necessary for inside Elrond’s halls.

He lowers his hand, dipping his head briefly in greeting. “I—” he seems to notice my nightgown. “Did I wake you?”

I shrug and attempt to lean against the doorframe casually, still mildly disturbed from my nightmare. “I don’t think so.” Then, panic causes me to stiffen. “Have you been here long?” Did he hear anything? Oh, I hope not.

He shakes his head and I relax. “No, I only just arrived.” Whew. “I came to get you — Elrond wants to take a look at your arm. I also wanted to let you know, Glorfindel and I are going to visit a couple of the border stations and see if there are improvements to be made. I will be back late tonight.”

“Oh.” I blink. So he’s leaving. “But you only just got here.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Yes.”

“Well, don’t you want a few days to relax?”

He tilts his head to the side. “I have been relaxing — I’ve been on leave from my duties for three weeks now.”

I roll my eyes, recalling his constant state of watchfulness on our journey. “Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t call the trip we just had ‘on leave from your duties.’”

He huffs, but the beginnings of a smile tugs at the edges of his lips. “Would you please get dressed so I can escort you to Elrond? Glorfindel and I wish to leave within the hour.”

I fight the urge to make some snarky comment about his impatience and instead shut the door in his face, hurrying to get ready. My arm does sting — perhaps Elrond can do something about that.

The chest of drawers doesn’t offer much in variety, mostly just a combination of long dresses and a few tunic and legging sets here and there. I’ve been traveling in the same clothes for two weeks though, and a change in habit doesn’t sound too bad, so I opt for a sleeveless pale blue gown with a gossamer cape at the shoulders. I don’t look as ethereal as Lavandil would, but I suppose it will do. Using my fingers, I brush down the frizz in my hair as much as I can—a lost cause, really—and throw on a pair of cream slippers that no one will see anyway because of the gown. After splashing some water over my eyes and brushing my teeth, I throw open the door to find Haldir standing to the side, back to the wall, watching the coming and going of everyone who passes down the hallway. Always on duty. He acknowledges me with a stiff nod and gestures down the hall, falling into step beside me. When we reach the bottom of the staircase, he leads me to the right and through another open-air hallway.

He breaks the silence. “Is your room to your liking?”

I think back to my plush bed, trying to separate it from the dread and fear of my nightmare. “Oh, yes. As much as I liked sleeping under the stars, it’s nice to have a proper bed and all the blankets I could want. And a door.”

He huffs out a laugh, nodding in agreement. “That is the true indication of luxury.”

“And yours?”

His mouth twists into a grimace. “It is the height of visitor season here in Imladris, so I am sharing with Rumil. Aside from constantly putting up with my younger brother, it’s perfect.”

I freeze, turning to him. “Wait, you have to share? But you’re the one who’s supposed to be visiting, that’s not right. You or Rumil can have my room, I’ll stay with Alex—”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” he interjects quickly, jerking his head to indicate that I should continue walking. “I only meant to joke. I do not mind sharing a space with my brother.” Before I can respond, he changes the subject. “How is your arm?”

I raise it, feeling the skin stretch over the cut. “Stings, but it’s healing.”

“Elrond will be able to speed along the process.” He indicates that we should turn left down a new hallway. He leads me through a nondescript archway on our right and we enter a moderately sized semicircular room.

Elrond sits at a mahogany desk near one of the walls, writing furiously on a piece of graying parchment. Upon our entry, he looks up, and the lines of stress on his brow melt into an expression of warm welcome. “Good to see you again, Cosima, Haldir.” He nods to each of us in turn and motions for us to join him at his desk. When we approach, Haldir bows his head respectfully, so I do the same. It’s strange to be in Elrond’s presence. He carries such authority that I feel small in comparison, yet he also leads with such kindness that it is impossible to not want to be around him. Based on all the visitors Haldir mentioned, I surmise that I am not alone in this assessment.

Elrond vacates his chair and gestures for me to sit. He comes to stand at my left and gently takes my arm in his hands. “I am sorry for the injury you suffered during the attack. That must have been quite jarring.”

Haldir rests a hand absently on the hilt of his sword, watching us from the other side of the desk. Likely, he too is remembering the ferocity of the attack — the lives he had to take. It must be hard, even if they were the lives of those trying to kill us.

“It was,” I agree, wincing slightly when Elrond unwraps the bandage encasing my upper arm. “As far as I know, my home doesn’t have anything like that.”

He smiles almost indulgently, crouching to more closely examine the gash. “But you would not remember if it did, no?”

I swallow. I hadn’t considered that. “I guess you’re right.”

He looks into my eyes then, and I feel so very young. “Every world has its perils. And every world has its joys. You cannot have one without the other—such is the way of life.”

I exhale shakily, turning my eyes to the ceiling. That’s sobering.

Elrond lays his fingers over my torn skin and mutters something in that language I so often hear.

I try to concentrate on the sounds, but can’t make out any specific words. “What is that?”

Since Elrond is still chanting, Haldir answers for him. “An Elvish healing incantation. Combined with the power in Elrond’s spirit, it should close up the wound.”

Tingles race through my upper arm and converge on my cut. I crane my neck, trying to see around Elrond’s hands. A second later, he pulls away. I gasp. All that is left of the cut is a thin, raised scar.

“What,” I murmur, prodding at the skin. Not painful, not even tender. What was just a two-day old wound now seems as if it happened and healed ages ago. “That’s impossible.”

Elrond nearly smirks, straightening to full height. “Open your mind, young one, and you will see that what is impossible to you is commonplace here.”

“I—” but I have nothing to say to that. Though I cannot possibly wrap my head around what just happened, the fact remains that it did. I’m not sure if I’m ready to confront what that means. So I push it away for later. “Thank you.”

Elrond inclines his head. Everyone around here is so dang respectful. “You are welcome.” With a twinkle in his eye, he turns his focus to Haldir. “Do not give my guards too hard a time. I imagine they are wary of your arrival.”

Haldir gestures for me to follow him to the exit. “I only plan on pointing out strategies for improvement. Suggestions, really.”

With a noise that clearly communicates his disbelief in Haldir’s statement, Elrond returns to his desk, smiling softly and shaking his head. “Be safe, Marchwarden. And Cosima?” I stop and turn, one hand on the pillar leading into his study. He gives me a level look and I have the distinct impression that he is acutely aware of the conflict raging within my head. “My door is always open.”

Mutely, I nod, a little stunned by the gravity in his gaze. I must have been staring, because it takes Haldir gently tapping my elbow to remind me to follow him from the room. Once in the hallway, I feel a little more clear-headed. “So was that magic?”

Haldir shrugs, striding down the long corridor. “Humans would think of it that way I suppose. Magic implies something special and ‘more than,’ though, and it’s not like that for elves. It is to be respected, yes, but it is simply the power in our spirits doing the work that calls to them. For Elrond, his spirit urges him to heal, so when he acts on it, he is more powerful than others who aren’t called to healing. I should mention that we say ‘spirit’ for your benefit. Elves use the term ‘fæ’. Simplified, it serves the same purpose as a spirit, but for elves, it plays more of an active role in our lives.”

I mull that over. It sounds reasonable enough. “So then what’s yours? What does your spirit—fæ want you to do?”

“Keep people safe. And if that means fighting, so be it.”

That seems consistent with what I know about him. Every action he takes seems driven by the desire to protect those around him. “What would happen if you ignored it? Say you wanted to be a healer like Baranor or Elrond.”

Haldir chuckles, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword as he walks. “I have tried before and I was not near as successful. I can perform the basics of healing—anyone can—but there’s no power within me to speed up the process or heal especially severe injuries like Elrond can. If I tried to attend to your arm in the same way he did, maybe it would have healed slightly faster? But as you saw with Elrond, he is capable of doing it in minutes.”

I begin to catch on. “Okay, so you can all learn whatever skills you want but the power to perform above and beyond at those skills lies in your fæ.”

He nods once. “Exactly.”

We turn a corner. “But what if you wanted to be a healer but you were born with the fæ of a fighter? Could you change it?”

Haldir takes a deep breath, his steps slowing slightly. I realize we are nearing the staircase that will take me to my room. “Short answer—no. An elf’s fæ is incredibly personal and incredibly fragile. Really, only two things can change an elf’s fæ: marriage and death. Long answer—you can ignore the desires of your fæ and nothing bad will happen to you so, technically, if I wanted, I could shun the need to keep my people safe and heal them instead. But I wouldn’t be any better at it than anyone else and I would feel unfulfilled because I wouldn’t be giving my fæ what it needs. Does that make sense?”

I nod, but something he glossed over jumps out at me. He said marriage can change an elf’s fæ, but from what I know, marriage isn’t always forever. People can separate, people can die, people can cheat. What then? “Marriage and death change a fæ how?”

A faraway look comes into his eye. “The two are basically interconnected. When elves get married, their fæs bond together in a way that cannot be undone. When it is—through death—the half of the fæ belonging to the dead elf essentially wilts and leaves the remaining fæ damaged.”

That sounds awful. “But what about divorce? Is that kinder to a fæ?”

Haldir smiles ruefully. “Divorce is something unique to humans. Elves live forever and we love only once. When we do decide to love another, the two fæs are literally entwined forever. So divorce is a physical possibility — the two can be separated, yes. But it would cause their fæs so much grief that it almost never happens. Spiritually though, the two are entwined until death, some argue even beyond then.”

I’m almost afraid to ask. “So, if one dies and the fæ is damaged…”

“The other fades. It is not just a physical death, but a spiritual one. They lose the will to live and eventually pass into nothing.”

I look at the ground. Haldir carries a pain in his voice that makes me wonder if he’s seen this happen before. With over three thousand years behind him, it’s likely that he has.

I attempt to veer to a safer subject. He said elves only love once and, as far as I know, Haldir isn’t married. I try to tease him a little to lighten the mood. “So you’ve never been in love?”

He raises an eyebrow, jerking his chin in my direction. “Have you?”

I shrug, climbing the staircase. “I wouldn’t remember.”

“I think you would.” We’re at the top now and I turn to see him looking not at me, but out one of the gaping archways showcasing the falls.

I let out a slow breath, thinking on his words. Would I, though? I mean, what if I’m here gallivanting with my new friends and I have someone at home mourning my loss, missing me? Do I owe it to him to make it back?

Feeling a weight settle on my shoulders, I take small, hesitant steps towards the archway, bringing me closer and closer to the fortified stone railing. I don’t look down—that would be too much—but I do rest my hands lightly against the wood, staring straight ahead at the curtain of frothy white and blue. Guilt as well as fear from being so close to the edge churn in my stomach. Am I a bad person for not remembering my love? Do I even have one?

I let out a shuddering breath, knowing I need something — reassurance or condemnation, I don’t know. I choose to give voice to my fears and trust Haldir to decide.

When I speak, my voice is not as solid as I would like, sounding instead shaky and fragile. “But what if I didn’t?” I swallow against the lump rising in my throat. “What if there’s someone in my world waiting for me and I can’t remember him?”

The sounds of boots clicking against stone echoes. A few seconds later, Haldir appears next to me, resting his hands on the railing, mirroring my viewing of the waterfall.

“An elf’s fæ gives them a measure of awareness. If you are really attuned to someone—love them, have a strong bond with them—your fæs will have a consciousness of each other, almost like they’re in communication. For example, I can see Rumil’s light and I know that he is content. I can feel Orophin’s joy practically bursting and I know how happy it makes him to be here with his love. And, while a human’s fæ isn’t as strong as an elf’s, you do have one. If I concentrate, I can see it. It’s faint, but it is there. All this to say,” he shakes his head slowly, turning his gaze to me. “If you had a love back home, your fæ would know.”

I slump in relief, leaning against the railing and closing my eyes so I cannot further frighten myself. If I had someone that I was bonded to, I would remember him — more than that, I would feel it in my soul. So, staying here…if it weren’t so dangerous…maybe it wouldn’t be bad.

“Haldir, Lady Cosima.” A confident voice at the end of the hall catches our attention.

Glorfindel, golden and gorgeous as ever, strides up to us, bowing deeply. He reaches for my hand and presses a kiss to its back, then straightens and winks—at me or Haldir, I can’t tell. “A human custom I thought I’d try. Not my cup of tea, but I do say I’ll try anything once.”

I bark out a shocked laugh, having not expected Glorfindel’s bold entrance. “Am I one of your experiments, then?”

“If you’d like to be.” He pumps his eyebrows suggestively, though, if what Haldir just explained to me is true for all elves, Glorfindel is only playing around.

Haldir rolls his eyes. “Are you ready to go?”

With a flair, Glorfindel gestures to his armored form. “So it seems. Is the Lady going to accompany us?”

I huff, not liking being cut out of the conversation. “No, ‘the Lady’ hopes to stay here and find breakfast.”

“Ah, it is on the path to the stables! Allow us to show you the way.” With that, Glorfindel strides down the hallway as quickly as he arrived.

Haldir shakes his head—whether in amusement or annoyance, I don’t know—but follows.

The three of us wind up in a large outdoor pavilion sheltered only by a wooden lattice rooftop woven with blue and white flowers. This must be the common dining hall Elrond mentioned last night. It’s relatively late in the morning but too early for the midday meal, so the pavilion is empty. I’m grateful—I’m not sure I could handle meeting a whole city’s worth of elves before I’ve gotten some food in me.

The use of the word causes a brief spark of shock to jolt through my chest. I just referred to them as ‘elves’.

But I cannot deny it any longer—somehow, it clicked. I am in a different world, and the people of this world are not all human. My friends are elves.

This decision to believe—though it is only one of many I must make—releases a weight from my chest. I suddenly feel much lighter, nearly giddy with freedom. I push forward and turn around to face the two ellyn who led me here, nodding with a measure of finality.

“You are elves.”

Glorfindel looks perplexed, but Haldir, for the first time since I’ve met him, looks surprised. His eyebrows shoot towards his hairline, his lips part from each other. I grin, very much enjoying the feeling of catching him off guard. He narrows his eyes slightly, seeming to inspect me for signs of teasing or a joke. I smile up at him, confident in my decision.

Glorfindel looks back and forth between what probably looks like an impromptu staring contest. “Yes…it must be time for you to eat. How often do humans need to eat, anyways?” He chatters on, leading us through the pavilion and into an auxiliary room — the kitchens. “I’ve heard horror stories of new humans needing to eat upwards of six times per day. How do its caretakers get anything done?”

As Glorfindel darts through the kitchen collecting what I assume to be leftovers and provisions for the trip, Haldir comes up beside me, looking almost unsure.

“You have accepted it, then?”

I nod, exhaling quickly. “I have. This isn’t a dream, this is real. Somehow I lived in my world and now I live in yours. And, though there’s no way for me to wrap my head around it, my new friends are elves.”

He smiles softly, hesitantly, and dips his head in acknowledgment of my statement. “I am glad.”

But, despite my momentary feeling of freedom, unease settles in my gut. Many more decisions lie ahead.

A/n Ooo so what do you think??? Likes, comments, and reblogs make me happy! Let me know if you would like a tag :) Also, if you’re bored, pop into my ask box and tell me something that makes you happy -- I’d love to know!

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noladyme · 4 years ago

Text

The Princess Frog. Epilogue

She had no wish to be bound down to anyone, but Y/N none the less found herself being dragged across the continent; to marry King Foltest of Temeria. Instead of pomp and spectacle; she was accompanied by the witcher, Geralt of Rivia. Their travels would bring both monsters, lust, love; and heartache. All sound tracked by an endearing buffoon of a bard, named Jaskier.

TW: Violence, language, sexual themes. Rated M.

I hope you have enjoyed reading this, as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my future writings.

- no lady

Tag list:

@ayamenimthiriel

Epilogue - The Queen Frog

It was spring. The flowers in my private garden were budding; and a few were in full bloom – making them ripe for harvest. I walked past the chamomile; inhaling the sweet smell. It made me think of my Tootie. Thrude had passed a year ago – Eist having sent a letter with the information, and his warm condolences. Not long after, Mousesack had visited me. His grief was deep; but he had told me that seeing me still wearing her frog around my neck, brought him much joy.

“Mousesack; was I hurting Thrude, when she healed me as a child? Was she draining herself for me?”, I’d asked. The wizard laughed out loud. “Do you think all she was feeding you was chamomile and honey?”, he guffawed. “My dear; Thrude had years of training as a vöelve before you were even born. She knew how to heal using plants and other medicines; that was what she was using on you”. He took my hand. “She also didn’t have your powers. She was teaching you how to use what you had naturally in you; by using the words, that would help you in the future”.

And I was learning to use them properly. Triss saw to that.

Ylva had got a cut to her arm while in a tussle with a drunkard in a tavern, who had told her women couldn’t be soldiers. She’d insisted she didn’t need treatment; but I couldn’t let my personal guard walk around with cuts and bruises that might fester. So, I was preparing a poultice of celandine and wolfs aloe. Saoirsheen walked up to me, as I was kneeling in one of the flowerbeds.

“Your majesty, he’s here!”, she smiled broadly. Saoirsheen had been with me, as my lady in waiting, ever since Cynnes had passed from old age three years before.

My heart leapt; and I smiled broadly. “Where is he?”, I asked, almost giddily. “He’s shoving grapes into his mouth in your dining room”, she smirked. I quickly wiped my hands in my apron, and took it off; handing it to her. “How long has it been?”, she asked. I frowned. “Not since Foltests and my two year anniversary, I think”, I answered. “There was that midsummer feast the year after that”, she smiled. I scoffed a laugh. “Yes, but he was piss-drunk; and had his face buried in the countess De Stael’s cleavage”, I said. “Right”, Saoirsheen laughed.

I walked into the door of the kitchen; then made my way up the stairs, and down a hallway to my private chambers. Ajvin was standing outside the door to my dining room. “Is it true, my queen?”, he asked; his voice shaking with excitement. “Is it really him? Will you introduce me?”. I smiled and nodded. “I will, Ajvin”, I said. “You will see him at the feast, and I will introduce you to him. Maybe he’ll even let you accompany him in a song”. I winked at the man. “For now, I need to speak to him privately”. Ajvin nodded. “Yes, your majesty”, he said, and stepped aside.

I opened the doors to the room. I never had guards outside my chambers – or inside – except for Ylva. It made me feel uncomfortable to constantly be watched by anyone else.

By the end of the large table – in my own seat, no less – sat a blue eyed; brightly smiling man.

“Jaskier!”, I said. The bard sprang to his feet. He ran over to me; and took my outstretched hand; kissing it. “Princess!”, he smiled. I raised a brow at him. “Queen…”, I smirked. Jaskiers smile broadened into a grin. I put my arms around him for a warm hug.

We went to sit by the table. I gave the bard a light tap over the back of his head, when he went for my chair. He took a seat next to it instead. “Did you eat most of the fruit already?”, I jeered. “I had to”, Jaskier answered. “I was worried you might start throwing it around if I didn’t”. I laughed. “How have you been?”, I asked. “You know…”, he said. “Travelling. Falling in love. Performing. Falling out of love. Almost died from a djinn-attack…”. “That sounds like a story!”, I said. He smiled. “I haven’t written the song yet”, he winked at me. “So, my queen. You have asked me to come here for a certain reason”.

I nodded. “Adda’s 20’th birthday-celebration”, I said. “She was very clear that she wanted the great bard Jaskier to perform. I think she has a crush on you, from when she saw you at that midsummer feast two years ago”. Jaskier’s face lit up. “Really?”, he asked. I frowned at him. “Don’t even think about it bard; or I’ll have Ylva cut of your bollocks and serve them to you on a plate”, I said menacingly. “Besides; she’s still… having troubles controlling herself; after her difficult beginnings as a striga”. Jaskiers face scrunched up. “I’ll make sure not to butter that biscuit, then”, he muttered. I threw a grape at his head. He laughed. “There she is…”, he smirked.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. “He’s here…”, Jaskier suddenly said. I looked at him; my breath hitching. “Here?”, I said. Jaskier nodded. “He owed me a favor from… almost getting me killed”, he answered. “I insisted he travel with me here, as my bodyguard”. I smirked. “Last time you did that; he ended up with a child of surprise”, I said. The bard laughed nervously. “Yes well, I trust you don’t have any pregnant princesses wandering the halls”. I scoffed a laugh. “No pregnancies here”, I said. “We avoid them. Like the plague”.

Jaskier sighed. “He wanted to come”. “He said that?”, I asked, and poured myself a goblet of mead. It was Jaskier’s turn to scoff. “It’s Geralt. Does he ever say anything, unless he has to?”. He used to say many things, I thought to myself.

I took a large sip of my drink. “The feast”, I said. “Tonight. You will perform?”. Jaskier nodded. “Of course. But I thought you already had a court-bard.”. “We do”, I laughed. “But in all honesty; he’s terrible”. Jaskier laughed. “Why keep him?”. I smiled warmly. “He’s a good boy; our Ajvin”, I said. “And he’s managed to spawn 4 children with his wife. He needs the pay”. Jaskier grabbed my hand. “You’re a good queen, your majesty”, he said. “And a kind woman”. I grinned at him. “Maybe; but I still have the mouth of a fucking sailor!”.

We laughed together; when suddenly there was a knock on the door. “Yes?”, I called. My good friend – the court-enchantress – stepped in. “Triss!”, I smiled. “You’ve arrived! How was Aretuza?”. She smiled. “Filled with the grunts and moanings of old men; as per usual. I’ve come to celebrate the princess. I’m in desperate need of some cheer and good times”. I stepped over to give her a hug. “Well then”, I said. “Let’s have them!”. Triss nodded. “Yes”, she said. “But tomorrow – training!”. I scoffed. “I’ll be hung over…”. The enchantress smirked at me. “All the more reason to train. It’ll wake up your brain”.

I hadn’t used my powers for anything serious since my run in with O’Dimm. There had never been reason to. But they remained there; and I knew I had to control them.

Saoirsheen came into the room then. “Your majesty. I was unsure whether you wanted the velvet or the silk gown tonight”. I frowned. “Hel’s ass; can’t I just wear pants?”, I said. Triss laughed behind me. “Come, bard”, she said. “Our Zaba has preparations to make”.

They went to leave through the door. “Jaskier!”, I called after them. “If you sing that song…”. I looked at him menacingly. He grinned at me. “I’ll take my chances”, he winked; and he and Triss left the room.

---

I was standing in my bedchamber; brushing my hair. He’s here. It was like a jolt through my body, just thinking of Jaskier’s words. I wondered if he’d changed. I knew I had. I was older; though only a few years – but I knew that those years on the throne, had rid me of at least some of the rough edges of my former life.

I’d taken my role as queen seriously. My husband had been respectful, even kind. And he listened to me; and guided me through the complicated politics of court life. I recalled how terrified I’d been; standing in front of the grim man at our wedding. Not a smile had ghosted his face at any point of the ceremony. Just hardness. So I had taken him as being that. Hard. Cold. I’d had so much to learn.

Our wedding had been grand. I’d kept from crying my way through it, by reminding myself of the people that needed me to be here. Jaskier had told his most thrilling stories, and sung his best songs – even on my wedding-day I could not avoid The Foulmouthed Princess of the Skellige Isles. It had made my new husband laugh heartily. The first time I saw him smile.

I remembered that night with him – our wedding night – as we had shared a meal in private; before we were to go to bed.

I was picking at my food; heart in my throat from what was to come. And I remembered Geralts eyes before he turned around, and walked out of my life. “My lady”, my new husband suddenly said. Not my queen or my wife. “It is vital to me, that I make it clear, why you are here”. I gulped. “I am at your disposal; your majesty”, I whispered. “I need a queen at my side; and a mother for my daughter”. Foltest drained his goblet, and looked at me. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had the urge for a bedmate; so, I shan’t be bothering you for that”.

I was flabbergasted; sat, mouth agape. The king took my hand in his own two. “You will have a crown; a home; and public displays of my chaste love. And your cousin and his wife will have my armies”. He looked down. “My heart still belongs to my daughters’ mother; however repulsive you might find that. I hope you can live with me on these terms. If not…”.

I sighed, swallowed; and looked up at him, meeting his pained eyes. “And what of friendship, and respect?”, I said. “Friendship?”, Foltest asked.

“I can live with you on your terms. But I cannot be a puppet to be put on display, whenever it suits your majesty. I wish to be heard; and seen as a queen and woman in my own right”.

Foltest stifled a laughter, and narrowed his eyes at me. “I was told you’d be a handful”, he murmured. “I will treat you with whatever respect you earn from me; and I promise never to be unkind. Should this seem to you as friendship, I have nothing against it. I’ll welcome it”.

I smiled and nodded. “Then you have your wife”.

He put a chaste kiss on my hand. “And you have a husband”.

So, I was queen. And it was good, for many people. My cousin. His wife. Those were less important to me.

But then there were people like Saoirsheen; and others like her; who needed a safe haven, that I now had the power to create for them.

Ajvin and Lysa; and their brood of children. The bard sang and performed as best he could – bringing cheer and laughter to the courts hearts, every time he played a false note.

Filivandrel and his people – whom I’d promised to stop Nilgaard from using me for evil.

Ylva and her pack. She’d never gone back; but in stead was now my greatest protector and personal guard. Flaxon had showed up shortly after the wedding with a sour expression on his lips; and I’d informed my husband of his crimes. “Your majesty; you’d belive this woman over me?”, Flaxon said. “You ask me if I believe my wife – the queen – over you?”, Foltest said. “Yes, Flaxon. I do”. He’d been stripped of his rank; and now spent his days in a Maribor cell. The one I had been placed in myself, those years back.

Five years. Five years of learning and growing. Days of boring meetings, where my husband would roll his eyes at me behind the back of his counsellors. Days of working with Triss; and riding the fields and forests outside Vizima, on my stallion – Bayrd. I’d been a mother. Not to a child I had given birth to myself; but to a teenaged girl with a troubled heart and mind. And I’d guided her, best as I could, with the help of Triss. I would tell her fairytales about moonwraiths and witchers, succubi and bards. And I’d stroked her hair when she could not sleep from nightmares. I loved Adda, and she loved me. But she was difficult.

Saoirsheen joined me in my chamber; carrying a purple velvet gown. “Oh gods”, I said. “Not that one!”. Saoirsheen smiled. “The princess insisted”, she smiled. “Mother looks so pretty in that one, she said”. I sighed defeatedly. “Fine”, I said, and took the bundle of fabric from my ladys hands. Saoirsheen went to look for shoes for me. “Would you like to take a bath before the feast?”. “No”, I said. “After. I think I’ll need it to calm my nerves”. The half elf smiled. “He’s in the courtyard”, she said. I looked at her. “Thank you, Saoirsheen”. She set a pair of shoes on the floor in front of the bed, and took her leave.

I walked to the window; and looked down into the courtyard. I found him instantly.

He was talking to one of the stable-hands; with a very serious expression on his face. The man nodded – looking terrified – and took the reins of a red mare from him; leading it into the stable. “Not next to the black stallion!”, I heard the witcher growl after him.

My breath hitched; and – as if he’d heard me – he looked up. His amber eyes found mine; and I parted my lips – having to remind myself to breathe. Looking at me; his expression was warm and strangely sorrowful. His lips twitched into a smile for a second.

It was as if we stood there for hours; just looking at each other. Suddenly, his head turned; and I saw Jaskier walking towards him. The bard patted his shoulder, and said a few words; before looking up and meeting my eyes with a grin. I nodded at them both; and stepped away from the window.

I had to sit on the edge of the bed for a second; to control my shaking hands. Saoirsheen came back into the room. “The king is expecting you, madam”, she said. I nodded; and begun the task of getting dressed.

Purple velvet; draping over my body; like a 10 layer cake. White, frilly lacing across my chest, and at the bottom of the sleeves and skirt. I put on my necklace – the one with the small frog landing between my breasts. Saoirsheen managed to tame my hair into a somewhat regal style; and I went to join my husband, outside my chambers.

Foltest took my hand and kissed it. “You look beautiful, my queen”, he said warmly. “I look like a fucking dessert”, I said. He chuckled; and led me down the stairs to the great hall.

---

Horns blared when we entered the room. “Yes, yes. We’re here now”, I muttered bellow my breath.

Adda was already dancing; sashaying around a young count, who was having great difficulty in keeping up with her energy. I nodded at Triss, who was in deep conversation with a visiting wizard from Ban Ard - looking terribly bored.

Foltest and I went to our thrones – ridiculous things that I hated sitting on – to overlook the festivities. Adda looked at us and waved, with a grin on her face. Jaskier was playing a happy jaunt; and she skipped over to him, twirling around in front of him. He smiled cheekily; before looking at me. I raised a brow at him, and winked, then gestured at Ylva; who was lurking menacingly in a corner. The bard gave a nervous giggle, and returned his focus to his lute.

“We’ll have to get her married off soon”, my husband murmured. I sighed. “Yes, well… you know how I feel about that”. He frowned. “She’ll have the choice of man she wants”, he said. “I just hope she makes the right one”. I squeezed his hand. “We’ll guide her”.

“I received a letter from your cousin today”, Foltest said; taking a sip from his goblet. I’d turned him on to Skelliger mead. “With 10 barrels of your favorite, I’m guessing”, I said. He chuckled. “You know me too well”, Foltest chuckled. “He sends his best, and speaks of his grandchild”. I clenched my jaw. “Anything in particular?”. I had not seen Eist in years; and knew very little about his and Calanthes grandchild – the child of Pavetta. Pavetta herself, had drowned while travelling from Skellige to Cintra; and I knew that it must have broken Calanthes heart; making her overly protective of the child. “Not much. It grows healthily”, Foltest said. “Good”, I said quietly.

I was deep in thought, when suddenly the king sat up straight. “Is that the witcher? Geralt of Rivia?”. I looked up.

The doors had opened; and there stood Geralt – stripped of his weapons, and looking very uncomfortable. My mouth opened; but I couldn’t speak. “I haven’t seen him since he brought you here”, Foltest said. “Five years”, I muttered. “Yes”, my husband agreed. “I owe him a great thanks for his service”, he said smilingly. I tried to match his smile; feeling very short of breath. “Bring him forward”, the king said to his crier. I dug my fingers into the armrest of my throne; convinced that I’d fall of my seat if I didn’t.

“Geralt of Rivia; witcher!”, the crier called out, and an embarrassed looking Geralt stepped forward. He looked at Foltest, and nodded. “Your majesty”, he said. His voice still sent shivers down my spine – dark and brusque, but bellow it, a great warmth. His eyes met mine; and he got on one knee – bowing to me. Geralt doesn’t bow to anyone. He took my hand; and kissed it – the feeling of his lips to my skin an instant reminder, of where else on my body they had been. “My queen”, he muttered. He stood back up, facing Foltest.

“Witcher”, the king said solemnly. “When I saw you last, I did not thank you, for your protection and care of my wife”. Geralt smiled. “The honor was mine”, he said. Foltest laughed. “Come now, witcher!”, he said. “We both know she can be a bloody pain in the ass!”. Geralt laughed; and I bit my cheek to avoid saying something un-queenly. “None the less, my friend”, Foltest said. “I am honored to have you here for this celebration. Just don’t start any fights, or claim any children”, he jeered.

Geralt looked at me somberly. “Am I to understand congratulations are in order?”. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “No”, I said quickly. The first word I had spoken to him in five years. Foltest took my hand. “Alas, the gods have not blessed our union with any children”. He looked at me meaningfully. I smiled. Geralt narrowed his eyes at me.

Foltest drained his goblet. “Well”, he said. “I brought you forward to thank you, and so I will. Thank you, witcher”. He kissed my hand. “Now; I will go dance with my daughter. Sit with my wife; entertain her. She’s been very bored lately; I’ve noticed”. Foltest got up; and went to join Adda.

Geralt sat down in the chair next to me. We were quiet for a while. “A-are you well?”, I stammered. “I am”, he grumbled. We were quiet for a moment longer. “And you?”, he said. “Yes”, I smiled. Geralt looked towards the floor, where my husband was lifting my stepdaughter into the air; and twirling her around – to great applause and cheer from the guests. Jaskier was making a grimace; and trying to nod approvingly at Ajvin; who was playing his best rendition of The Fishmongers Daughter.

Geralts body so close to mine sent waves of warmth through me. “Does he… treat you well?”, the witcher asked. I smiled. “He treats me like a queen”, I answered. Geralt grunted. “With all that entails…”.

I looked at him and laughed. “Are you jealous of my husband, witcher?”. He scoffed. “What? The sweaty sister fucker?”. I frowned softly. “My husband…”, I began. “My marriage… it’s turned out very differently than what I had imagined. In spite of the sister fucking”. I took a large gulp of my mead. “How so?”. Geralt lifted a brow at me.

I sat up straight; trying to look completely at ease with our conversation. It wasn’t like it was his business – but I felt that he should know. “My husbands… carnal desires, aren’t much to speak of”, I smiled meekly. “I haven’t been with a man since…”. I bit my lip. “Your wedding night”, Geralt said. I met his eyes. “Since you…”. Geralt looked stunned. “Oh!... well…Fuck!”, he said. I smiled. “Well, not really”, I said. He chuckled and nodded. “Right…”.

Foltest came back to sit with me; panting. “I am getting to old for this”, he said, out of breath. “Do you dance, witcher?” “I do not”, Geralt chuckled. I smiled. “You don’t dance. You don’t sing”. I raised a brow at him. “Is there anything you do?”. He smirked at me. “Kill monsters and tame frogs”. I laughed. Geralt stood up and nodded his head at us. “I should go fulfill my duties to the bard”, he sneered. Jaskier was being held against a wall by a baron; who’s blushing wife stood by, looking at the scene. Geralt took my hand, and kissed it again. “Your majesty”, he said softly. He narrowed his eyes at me. “That dress looks ridiculous on you”, he whispered. I chuckled in response. The witcher went to help his friend.

“He made you happy”, Foltest muttered. I looked at him in shock. He squeezed my hand and smiled warmly at me. “I might be old, but I’m not blind”. I looked down. “I want you to be happy, wife”, my husband said softly. I sighed. “He did”. Foltest nodded. “We need drinks and music. Bard! Sing that song we talked about”.

Jaskier – having been let lose by the baron – stepped onto the middle of the floor; and began.

“Once a lady from Kaer Trolde fared, with skin so smooth, and beautiful hair. She held the heart of many a man; but mouths stood agape, when she speaking began.”

Foul mouthed lady, be kind onto me And I’ll be your thrall, I will never flee. Foul mouthed princess, have mercy, I plea And I shall be ever a servant of thee

The foulmouthed princess of the Skellige Isles The foulmouthed princess, the foulmouthed princess, the foulmouthed princess of the Skellige Isles!”

---

I partook in the festivities as long as I could manage; before – with a smile to my husband, and a kiss on my stepdaughter’s cheek – I retired to my chambers. It was good to see him, I thought to myself. He would be gone in the morning.

As she’d promised; Saoirsheen had had the maids prepare a bath for me. I shed myself of the monstrosity Adda called a dress, and was about to step into the tub; when I realized that they’d forgotten to leave towels for me. I didn’t want to call out for help. I hated being waited on; and only accepted Saoirsheens help; because she was more friend than servant. In combination, she and Triss made me feel like I was still in my Tooties warm embrace.

I wrapped myself in a robe; and went to the door, to make my way to the linen closet down the hall. I opened the door; and was met by Geralt. “Saoirsheen said…”, he began. “She said to bring you these”. He handed me two towels – one for my hair, another for my body. I took the towels. “Thank you”, I said, meeting his eyes.

I stepped back for him to enter. He looked around the room. “It’s very different that a tavern”, he said. “Or a wood shack”, I smiled. He grunted a smile back.

I went to lay the towels next to the tub. It was steaming. “I was about to have a bath��, I said. Geralt nodded. “Yes, of course”, he grumbled. “I’ll come back”. He went for the door. “No, please!”, I halted him. “Stay… talk. It’s been so long. The water is to hot anyway”. He smirked. “That’s never been an issue before”, he said. I chuckled. “Five years in a castle and on a throne has made me a weakling, I’m afraid”, I said. “Never”, he muttered.

I looked at him; unsure what to say. “B-but you. You’ve not changed…”, I said. “Never more than what I told you that time”. I have changed. You’ve been a part of that change. He looked at me meaningfully. I swallowed hard.

“There must have been someone else, witcher”, I said. Geralt grunted. “There was… maybe is…”. His expression became tentative. I smiled. “Our lives are different now”, I said. “I always knew… You don’t owe me anything, Geralt. You are allowed to love”. He sighed deeply. “I did love…”, he said; and met my eyes. “As did I”, I answered quietly. He frowned. “And now?”, he asked.

I took his hand, and pressed it to my lips. “You wrote your name on my life”, I said. “As I wrote mine on yours. What we were… are… no one and nothing can change that”. The witcher smiled softly. “What we’ve taken and given”. I nodded. “I can’t say that you will always have a place in my heart; because that would mean that you’d left it”. He grunted, and squeezed my hand.

I sighed. Take it. “There is another place you will always have, though. A place I know you will have to leave”, I said. “But… it will always be here for you when you come back”. He looked at me confusedly. “What do you mean?”, he said. I smiled; and slid my hands behind his neck. “For all your improved eyesight, witcher…”, I said, “… you are blind”. I pulled his face to mine, and kissed him.

It had been so long, but the warmth; the passion… it was all there. Geralts hands found my waist; pulled me to him. “Little frog…”, he breathed. “Always”, I whispered. Our kiss became heated – his warm body familiar; yet new. His tongue tasted like a million unspoken words. Words that he had saved for me; but could never utter. I pulled back.

“You can send me away”, he said. “I won’t”, I whispered.

Squeezing his hand; I stepped over to the door, and bolted it. I felt him moving up behind me; and his hands slid around my torso; as he drew in the scent of my hair. “Still…”, he said. I smiled at the sensation of his warm breath to the back of my head; and turned around to face him again.

I put my hands on his chest. “I want…”, I began. “Yes?”, he said. “I need…”. He pulled me towards him; and slid his finger from my chin; down my collarbone; and rest it by the pendant between my breasts. “Tell me, your majesty”, he smirked. My breath hitched; as the finger slid behind my robe; and found my breast – stroking softly just above my nipple. “Geralt”, I breathed. “Will you let me finish my sentence?”. He chuckled softly; and let his hand cup my breast - his thumb stroking the nub of the nipple. “If you can…”, he said. “Tell me. What is this place you have for me?”.

I took his free hand and drew it down my torso. “Here”, I whispered; and placed it between my legs; letting his fingers find my folds. He groaned as he found me already wet from want. I threw my head back and gasped; almost throbbing already, when his index finger slid between my labia; stroking the path from my nub to my entrance, and back again. “It is a good place”, he smirked. “Then explore it more”, I moaned.

He growled; and pushed me against the door; sliding two fingers into me. “I have missed this place”, he chuckled. “It is warm… slick… always wanting”. I mewled. “It’s wanted you for five years”, I said. He leaned in to me; pressing his fingers deeper inside my warmth. “Hmm”, he breathed into my ear. “That must be why it is so much tighter than I remember”. His palm began massaging my bundle of nerves; drawing swearwords from my mouth, not even I knew I had in me.

Geralt used his free hand to open my robe; and pull it off my shoulders – before dropping it on the floor. “I think the bath is cool enough. Let’s go warm it up again”. He drew his fingers from me – making me moan from the lack of contact – and put them in his mouth, tasting. The look of pleasure on his face; was enough to make me gasp and my tunnel tighten.

“I want to undress you”, I said. He smiled, and stepped back; letting my arms free for my task. I opened his jerkin, and pushed it off his shoulders; making it hit the floor with a bump. Running my hand across his chest; I walked around him. I slid my hands under the hem of his shirt; running them up his back, and lifting the fabric along the way. He helped me pull the shirt over his head.

I gently kissed the scar on his shoulder, where – so many years before – I’d treated his wound from the fight with the foglets. Cinnamon and neem. No chamomile. I felt him shiver under my touch. “Are you cold, witcher?”, I said. “Or do I scare you?”. He chuckled. “You’ve always scared me little frog”, he said. “But no more than now”. I stepped in front of him, and tilted my head. “What are you afraid of?”, I asked. He looked suddenly apprehensive. “That I’ll close my eyes; and when I open them again, you will be gone”. I smiled. “I’m here”, I said. “Now remind me that you are as well”.

Geralts eyes grew dark; and I swallowed hard, remembering what that expression on his face had led to, when we knew each other before. “Bath”, he growled. I gasped as he picked up my naked body; and carried me to the large tub. He leant down; as if to gently seat me in the warm water; but stopped a few inches above the surface – found my eyes, and grinned at me. “Geralt…!”, I managed; before he let go, dropping me into the water with a splash. I heard him laugh as I was resurfacing; and rubbing the water out of my eyes. “You’ll pay for that!”, I snarled; without being able to stifle my laughter. He quickly removed his boots and breeches. “I have the best currency right here”, he smirked; and released his hardness from his pants. My jaw dropped. I have missed you, I thought; sitting face to face with that most cherished part of his body.

Geralt stepped into the tub; making the water splash onto the floor. He sat down facing me; and realizing I was too stunned to move; he pulled me onto his lap, so I was straddling him. His fingers found my folds again. “Remember that night?”, he breathed. I moaned. “I remember many nights”, I smiled, panting. “At taverns… in haylofts… against trees… under the stars”. He chuckled. “You were so angry”. He slid his fingers into me again; his palm against my clit. “So beautiful”. I began riding his hand. “You wouldn’t let me come in the bath”, I breathed. “You made me wait”. He put his free arm around me; and pulled me close. I threw my head back and closed my eyes. “I won’t make you wait this time”, he growled into my ear; and his fingers and palm worked in perfect coordination – pushing and rubbing – until I was just about ready to come.

“Look at me”, he demanded. “I want to see your eyes”. Panting and mewling, I opened my eyes, and met his. His pupils were blown from lust; and his lips were pulled back into a snarl. “Do you want this?”, he asked; and I nodded with bated breath. “Then come for me, your majesty!”. His hand moved faster; and without breaking eye-contact; I rode him into extasy. My loins felt like they combusted; and my walls clenched around his fingers. In the end, I collapsed onto his chest.

He gently drew out his fingers, and removed the hair from my face to look at me. “This I remember”, he smiled. “What?”, I panted. “My well and fucked look?”. He growled. “I haven’t fucked you yet”. I felt his hard cock twitch against my stomach; and I smirked. “Well, as long as you’re here…”, I said. He narrowed his eyes. “Not yet”, he said. “I seem to remember as well; that you have a mouth on you”. I bit my lip. “That fucking lip”, he rumbled; pulled my face in for a kiss; sucking hard at my lower lip. “Get up”, he demanded.

I got out of the bath; my body dripping with water. Geralt got up behind me; his member rigid and wanting. “Bed”, he said; and with bated breath I walked over to the bed; seating myself on the edge of it. “No. On your knees”. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you asking the queen of Temeria to kneel for you?”, I smirked. His eyes were animal. “I’m telling you, woman; to get on your fucking knees and face the bed”. With shaking legs and a pounding heart; I did as I was told. “Good”, the witcher said; passing me to sit down in front of me on the bed. He looked at me for what seemed like forever. Then his face warmed, and he smiled. “Please”, he said. I smiled up at him.

Sliding my fingers around his shaft; I placed the head on my tongue; instantly recognizing the taste of him. I let out a moan; and slid him into my mouth. He groaned above me; sliding his fingers through my wet hair. I ran my nails down his torso; playing with the hair there; before gently cradling his testes. I bobbed my head up and down; never breaking eye-contact with the witcher. He smiled at me so gently; making me feel as if I had never looked more beautiful.

“How many nights I have thought of you like this”, he moaned. “Your hair wild, and your eyes… Shit!”. He cried out, as I took him deep into my mouth, sucking and swallowing; so he would feel the tension around his hardness. “Careful; someone will hear us!”, he breathed. I pulled him out; and pumped his length. “No one will hear us”, I said. “My rooms are empty at night, save for myself – and the occasional guest”.

Geralt looked at me wonderingly. “You said you hadn’t been with anyone since me”, he breathed, as I continued pumping him; and lapping at his tip. “I said I hadn’t been with any men”, I smirked. Geralts eyebrows raised, and he chuckled at me. “You’re always a surprise, woman”, he said. I stroked my tongue from the root to the tip of him. “I like to think of my life as a series of journeys”, I smiled. He placed both his hands on the sides of my face; drawing me to him. “Well”, he rumbled. “Let’s go on another one”.

He met my lips; and let the tip of his tongue met mine; before picking me up by the waist; and straddling me on him. I grabbed at his cock; desperately wanting him inside me; but he took a hold of my wrist; stopping me. “No”, he said. “No?”, I asked. He bared his teeth. “Hungry”, he growled. My eyes widened.

As if I weighed no more than a small animal; he flipped me around; laying me on the bed. He grabbed me behind my knees; and tugged me towards him – the sudden jolt of it making me gasp. He kneeled in front of the bed, and looked into me. “Has it changed much?”, I smiled at him. He exhaled and narrowed his eyes. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to taste it”.

I drew in a breath; and his lips closed around my folds. He stuck his tongue inside me; after which he slid it up between my labia – letting it flicker over my nub. “Still sweet”; he said softly; before diving in again – taking the same route. “But more…”. He paused. “What?”, I breathed. He sent me a wicked smile. “Royal”. I laughed; which soon turned into a mewl, when he once again dove in to me. He flattened his tongue; and stroked it up and down my slit – all along holding my hips down; so I couldn’t move. “Fingers!”, I moaned. I heard him chuckle, and he slipped his fingers into me again; pressing upwards. His lips closed around my nub; and he suckled at it. First softly, then hard – as if he was in fact trying to devour me. My legs began shaking; and I once again saw stars and contracted around his fingers.

As I was still laying – panting – Geralt moved up my body; wiping his face of my juices. “I think I’ll have you now”, he growled smilingly. My breath heaving; I nodded, and spread my legs further for him to enter me. “No”, he said. I was dumbfounded “No? Geralt!”, I panted. He smiled. “I don’t want to use you up to fast”, he said; sliding his hands around the outsides of my breasts. He sucked at my left nipple; while pulling at my right. “I don’t think I ever had you here”, he said.

My lips parted. “No, you didn’t”, I said. “May I?”, he said. I bit my lip; and he groaned; catching my mouth in a brutal kiss; before straddling my waist, and placing himself between my breasts. He pushed my warm mounds around his hardness, and began thrusting slowly. He was careful not to place his full weight on me as he went; but his eyes were wild – the amber staring all the way into my soul. I scratched my nails down his chest, and he growled.

He was pulling at my nipples as he thrusted, sending sparks from them to my core. My small mewls every time I felt one of them, made him smile. “I will have to be careful I don’t come like this”, he groaned. “You were always able to continue quite soon, after you’d finished”, I smiled. “Yes”, he said. “But I want to come inside you”. He lifted himself off me, and looked at me; eyes suddenly soft. “Can you take me?”, he asked “It’s not been long since you came last, and I don’t want to…”. “Just fuck me, Geralt”, I said, and laughed. He smiled widely.

“Do you remember that first night we laid in bed together? At the inn?”. He ran his fingers from my collarbone, between my breasts; all the way down my stomach; ending up in my curls, playing with them. I laughed and nodded. “I thought you hated me”, I said. “I’d just tried to run away; so you tied me to the bed”. He placed himself between my legs; and lifted my knees – leaving me open for him. “That whole night I was pretending to sleep. In reality I wanted nothing more than to press my body against yours, and…”, he slid his fingers between my slick folds, opening and entering me, “… slide in to you”. His breath was warm against my neck, as he began moving slowly; his thrusts soft and swaying.

“I’m not sure I would have tried to stop you”, I breathed; moving with him; his hardness and the delicious ripples of its veins sending shivers through my body.

“It would have been a bad-mannered move of me. I did have you tied up to the bedpost”, he chuckled. I returned his laugh; and gasped as he made a single deep thrust, bottoming out in me with a groan.

“Again?”, Geralt smiled. “Yes, please...”, I said. He kissed me and our tongues met; massaging eachother - as he continued thrusting softly; and then bottomed out again. The feeling made my walls clench - and I came for the third time that night; taking us both by surprise. “Fuck!”, I yelped; making the witcher chuckle at me. “It is good I can still have this effect on you”, he said, letting my walls settle around his member - still inside me. “Are you ready for more?”.

I gasped as he thrust into me again, “Slow and sweet is still not your way. Is it, master witcher?”, I moaned into his ear. “I can go as slow or fast as you want, your majesty”, he said; dark voice almost warning me. I scratched my nails down his back, and locked my legs around his waist. “What about what you want? Why don’t you show me that?”.

He lifted his head, and looked at me warily. “Are you sure? I might hurt you…”, he said. I swallowed. “I want you to do to me, what you wanted to do that night”, I breathed.

His eyes darkened, and he put his lips to my mouth, quickly pressing his tongue between my teeth, and meeting mine. I felt a sting on my thigh, where he was digging his fingers into my skin. His thrusts became harder. “Say it”, he said. “Say you’re sure”. His pupils were blown, darkness taking over in him.

“I’m sure”, I said.

He made a groan, and pulled out of me; the sudden emptiness in my core almost painful from want. He flipped me over with a single hand on my hip; making me lay on my side, and placing himself behind me. Pulling me close to him with one hand; the other one grabbed my wrist, and placed my hand on the bedpost; closing it around the wood. He wanted me to hold on to it; as I had been tied up that night. He grabbed himself, and slid back into me; bottoming out in one thrust. I cried out from the feeling of it.

“Are you alright?”, he asked, his breath catching. “Y-yes”, I stammered. “Don’t stop”.

His arm around my torso; he held me firmly to his chest – putting his hand on my shoulder, so that I was nailed onto him. “I’m going to move now”, he said. I nodded and panted in anticipation.

With a loud groan, he pulled back; and slammed back inside of me – making me feel as if he was reaching all the way into the deepest parts of my being. He made the same move again; this time making me shiver so hard from pleasure, that my hand fell from the bedpost. Geralt grabbed it, and firmly put it back around the wood; clenching it to let me know not to let go. His hand then travelled to my neck, lightly squeezing my jugular. He moved again, slamming into me with a force I didn’t know could exist in lovemaking. My walls began to clench; as Geralts thrusts became more consistent.

His chest-hair tickled my back, making me giggle. “Something funny?”, he growled into my neck. “It tickles!”, I laughed. He continued thrusting in to my core. “This”, he said, slamming into me hard, once, “tickles?”.

I gasped loudly, and followed the sound with a loud moan. He squeezed my throat a little harder. “I’ll show you tickles”, he snarled; pulling out, and flipping me onto my stomach.

He placed both my hands on the headboard; once again making it clear that I was not to remove them from there. Putting his hands on my hips; he forcefully lifted my bottom into the air; and gave it one hand spank – making me yelp in surprise.

“Too much, little frog?”, he said, sliding his hand from my bottom, up my spine to my neck; before grabbing my hair, and turning my head to the side. He leant over my body; his still throbbing member poking at my thigh as he spoke. “I can stop any time”, he smirked; and slid a finger between my labia, tracing the shape of my entrance. I shivered; shook my head and turned it forward – holding on firmly to the headboard. “Good girl”, he whispered; before smacking my cheeks one more time, grabbing my hips; once again bottoming out inside of me. He held himself there, letting me adjust to the sensation.

Not satisfied with his lack of movement; I moved myself forward, and backed up against him again; trying to coax him to thrust. In a sudden movement, he lifted my torso against his; one hand on my breast, the other holding my throat; slightly squeezing. His hold on me was strong, both arms around me like firm logs covered by soft leather; and I melted against his broad chest. His length was still inside me, like a warm rod; forcing me to stay upright. I winced from the sudden sting of his fingers tweezing my nipple; and felt my whole body shiver as his voice rumbled from his chest. “I thought I told you before”, he said. “Don’t play with fire”. “Well, you never did punish me”, I croaked.

In an instant my hands were back on the headboard, his own hand covering them; making me lean forward again. He began thrusting hard, continuously making my whole body jolt forward each time his hips met my ass. Placing his right hand on my lower back; his thumb moved between my cheeks, probing at the ring of muscle there, intensifying the sensation of his thrusts. The muscles in my thighs were seething from the strain of holding my bottom raised. Geralt continued to thrust into me; but realizing my predicament, slid his left hand under me to hold me up – taking advantage of his finger’s closeness to my nub, to tease and rub it. He was now stimulating my entire intimate area.

I could no longer moan silently; my walls once again clenching around him from the sweet sensations of his fingers along with his brutal attack on my vagina. I began mewling loudly, accompanying the sounds of his groans each time he bottomed out.

A thundering current, pulsating to the rhythm of his thrusts, began spreading from my core, throughout my limbs. It was at once a hot and cold sensation, that made my fingers shake, until I could no longer hold on to the headboard, and fell forward; with my face into the pillow.

Suddenly it felt like I shattered. A sweet mixed sensation of pain and pleasure spread into every inch of my body. My legs began to shake, my arms and shoulders jolted – and I opened my mouth; and screamed.

Geralt did not stop. Continuously moaning and grunting, he slammed, slammed and slammed into me; almost lifting me into the air with each thrust, from the sheer force of it.

I was losing control of my limbs, and the growling beast behind me was relentless in his excavation of me - while simultaniously rubbing and teasing my most sensitive spots; to force me to continue orgasming around him - giving him pleasure, and drawing mine out.

Behind me, Geralt roared; and with a final hard thrust into me, he came undone; and fell over me – our bodies still attached. Panting, Geralt lifted the hair from the back of my neck, and kissed it gently, before rolling of me, and onto his back; sliding out of me in the process. My face was still buried in the pillow.

He slid a finger down my back. “Are you alright?”, he asked; sounding worried. I turned my face to look at him; my body still convulsing in aftershocks. I tried to nod, but it disappeared in one of the jolts.

“Y/N?”, he asked, distressed. He pulled me into his arms, stroked my cheek and removed the hair from my face. His fretful eyes searched my own. “Say something!”. “I… can’t move”, I breathed. “Did I hurt you?”, he asked. “N-no”, I stammered. “I haven’t… so much… in a long time... ever...”. I couldn’t finish my sentence.

He breathed a gasp in relief, before laughing at my expression. “I told you”, he said; and pulled me to lay across his chest. “Mhmm”, I answered, my eyelids heavy. “You did. But I wanted it. It was good”. His chest rumbled from his chuckle. “Just good?”. “Hhmmm…”, I sighed, and yawned.

He put his arms around me, and ran a hand through my hair. “Sleep now, little frog. I might want you again in the morning”.

“Hhmnn frog…”, I mumbled – and drifted off.

---

He did have me again in the morning; twice. And then one more time in the afternoon, before I waved him off from my window; his note to me, still in my hand.

Until the next journey, little frog.

---

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia fic #the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher fic #jaskier #geralt of rivia smut

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years ago

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Mistletoe Manor - Part 4

Summary: Christmas is the most important time of year for all those who live within Mistletoe Manor. From the staff to the Hawthorne family themselves, everyone works hard to ensure that the festive season is a success every year! We invite you to see if everyone can pull off another magical Christmas at the manor this year.

Pairing: Park Seo Joon, Bang Yongguk, Brian Kang, Jung Daehyun, Jung Jaehyun, Lee Taeyong and OCs.

Genre: regency au / romance / christmas au

A/N: Becky ( @noona-clock ) and I wanted to create a magical Christmas for everyone and what better way to do that than at Mistletoe Manor! Because of the nature of having several idols, we chose to work with OCs and we hope you love them as much as we do.

Mistletoe Manor will be posted daily at 10am NZST / 4pm EST daily.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

The requirements in the manor after the mishap at the Winter Festival meant a lot of the staff were now working two roles. For the sake of meeting the deadline, it made sense that this was happening and a lot of the villagers were also teaming up with the staff and Hawthorne family to make it work.

It was suddenly rather quiet in Mistletoe Manor, and this suited Taeyong just fine. He had been tasked to stay on with Percy, the butler, knowing between the two of them, the house would maintain its excellence in standing.

But that wasn’t without a little assistance from Taeyong himself.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

Looking up from the banister Taeyong was polishing, he noticed Anna standing there. He smirked, going back to the task at hand. “Is it in your repertoire to leave such streaks? The Hawthorne’s use these stairs on the daily. I would be utterly aghast if I were them to see such a mess.”

“Su-such a mess?!” Anna echoed, shoving him aside to inspect the railing. She then turned to him, pointedly. “You’re teasing me!”

“I’m afraid not, I have merely masked your errors. Don’t you have bedding to change?” Taeyong mentioned and Anna placed her hands on her hips, making it impossible for him to keep his humour to himself. He chuckled smugly. “Will taking purchase in your sides make those hands work any faster?”

“Might I remind you, Taeyong, of your own role within this house?”

He nodded, proudly. “I am at the service of the Hawthorne’s needs.”

“You’re a footman. Not a maid.”

“I’d hope not, could you imagine me prancing around here in your outfit? It would make a sight for sore eyes!”

“Just because Percy took you under his wing since you’re too afraid of hard work out at the marketplace-”

“Now, hold up just a second-”

“Does not mean you come up in here and boss me around!”

“When did I?” he retorted, throwing down the cloth onto the banister. “I was merely minding my own business until you stuck your nose-”

“My nose?! What is so wrong with my nose?!” Anna argued, her face now glowing hot as she shoved it closer to his. Taeyong tightened his tie in order to compose himself.

They were always like this. Many referred to them as the cat and mouse of this house, their bickering constantly heard down every hallway. Even the owners of the residence were humoured by the pair, though Taeyong found Anna to be the most intolerable woman in this county.

And having her stand this close to him made him entirely uncomfortable. Jarringly stepping back, he missed his footing, stumbling down a few stairs before landing on his bottom.

Anna giggled. “Yes, now that suits you just fine. The stumbling idiot. Back to my bedding, isn’t that right?”

“ANNA!”

Throughout the day, Taeyong continued to have endless mishaps whenever he crossed paths with the maid. Anna was just as frustrated with him, glaring at him as she dropped a stack of folded towels when he had come past her carrying out the dirty laundry. She had dusted the drapes right into his line of cleaning the windows and Taeyong had stepped in her pile of cinders she removed from the parlour’s hearth.

It was chaotic and yet, as he fell back upon his bed that evening, he couldn’t help but laugh.

It had been a good day.

When the next day arrived, he was tasked with helping Anna clean the grand dining hall. After the festival began, guests would soon arrive for Christmas at the manor and more meals would be held within this room. It would need to be spotless now so they could set up for the first large meal of the holidays.

“You do the left side and I’ll do the right,” Anna instructed and Taeyong blew out an air of annoyance, moving forward towards the centre of the room instead. “Are you not listening to me? As one of the head maids in this house, I should be respected!”

“Why should I show respect to someone who belittles me at any chance she gets?”

“You’re impossible!”

“At least you know my own sentiments towards you,” Taeyong agreed, clearing off the table so he could climb on top of it.

Anna gasped. “Get down from there right this instant! You do not put your feet on a table!”

“Pray tell, how do we clean the chandelier then?” he asked bitterly, and she gestured him down, slapping at his ankle until he hopped down.

And then she groaned. “You will not breathe a word of this to anyone else.”

“Word of what?”

“Crouch down so I can climb aboard your shoulders.”

“Surely standing on the table-”

“Not where the affluent sit! If they hadn’t taken the ladders to the site I would use them, now crouch down!”

“Do not blame me if I cannot hold your weight for long!”

“Perhaps you should do some more physical exercise to build up your strength then for I am not heavy.”

“Say that to someone who is not holding your entire weight upon his shoulders,” Taeyong griped and Anna sighed heavily before getting to work. For several minutes it was fine, Taeyong readjusting her when his position tired. She was almost done with one side when he began to struggle. “How much longer?”

“You can’t even handle five minutes?”

“It’s been longer than ten.”

“Even Percy could hold me longer than you.”

“Next time ask him to do so then.”

Anna glanced down at him. “Could you stand still, I’m trying to reach up to the highest part here!”

“Then hurry up and do it.”

Anna stretched further, her legs that were dangling around his waist, shifting with her lean. It threw their balance off and Taeyong doubled in half towards the table, managing to just get his hands behind her hand and back to brace her fall as he landed on top of her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Anna breathed, her eyes wide and searching his. Taeyong was stunned entirely, all his strength leaving him the longer he stared back.

And then it happened all too quickly, their lips meeting midway in a fevered kiss. It was unexpected and yet he groaned, taking more of her within his mouth until he grew breathless.

Once his lips fell away from hers, he snapped up straight, letting her fall out of his arms onto the table with a soft thud and put distance between them. “You kissed me!”

“I am certain it wasn’t just my lips working alone there, Taeyong,” she retorted, her tone too airy to be full of contempt as usual. He shot her a frazzled look, falling captive in her gaze again until the door suddenly opened.

Taeyong jolted so much that he stumbled to the ground. Percy looked at him and then smiled. “I forgot you would need this hook. It pulls down the chandeliers so you can clean them accordingly. Oh, are we quite alright in here? You both appear rather distressed. I do hope you are getting along for once.”

When the butler left the room, they scrambled to their feet, going in opposite directions to clean hastily.

On his way into the servants’ kitchen later that evening for a snack, he sighed heavily when he found Josephine sitting across from Maggie, the cook of the house. “Again, Joey?”

“My Lady, you mean!” she corrected and he rolled his eyes.

“If you come down here, then must I refer to you with any title?”

“I trust that you will not tell Mother on me for my visit,” the youngest Hawthorne requested and Taeyong merely shrugged. “Taeyong!”

“I might go to Lord Hawthorne instead.”

“You wouldn’t dare do such a wicked thing!”

“Don’t mind him, pet, he’s in a mood.”

“Whatever for?” Joey asked, looking at the man beside her. “Are you ill? Are you vexed by the happenings in the house right now?”

“Vexed, I like that word,” the cook exclaimed as she worked on the eggs she was scrambling.

“Don’t mind me, I’m processing.”

“You and Cassie are too alike. And you saw what happened there. She worked herself into a state. Tell me, as your friend I am here to assist you.”

“As a friend?” he echoed and Joey nodded adamantly. “You best not spread any gossip about this.”

“My lips are sealed!”

“Anna kissed me today,” he announced and then shook his head. “Or I did first. One of us or both of us…”

“You finally realised it?!”

Taeyong looked between Joey and the cook who was now laughing with glee. “Realised what?”

“You like each other! Goodness, is that all.”

“What, no, we despise each other! She drives me insane. What woman has the right to make me this wound up? The other day she purposely ruined my cleaning of the windows!”

“Uh-huh,” Joey murmured, still smiling to herself. “And yet you don’t seem repulsed by kissing her.”

“No… I don’t.” Taeyong groaned. “That’s why I am frustrated. I should, shouldn’t I?”

Joey shook her head. “Why, you like her so it should make your heart soar not shudder.”

“It’s about time too. I wonder who will win the wager set on this once it’s out in the open?”

“Did you choose a date too, Maggie? I sure had it pegged for after Christmas but with the rush maybe it’s brought them together.”

“You made a wager on us?!”

“Sometimes life is boring in this house,” Joey admitted with a giggle. She took his hand in hers and then patted it softly. “You really had no idea what your heart wanted, huh?”

“The bigger question is, what will you do now that you know?” Maggie asked and both women looked at him expectedly.

Taeyong sighed. “I … well, what should I do?”

After the advice of those in the kitchen, the following morning and the day of the Winter Festival, Taeyong had been tasked to finish off the dining hall before all staff could enjoy the evening off. He was anxious standing at the door to the room, and when Anna sped by without so much of a morning greeting, he questioned if Josephine’s advice had been proper.

Especially when Anna squealed from within the room.

“Look at this mess! There are petals all over the floor! We’ll be here cleaning all day long!” she exclaimed and turned as Taeyong came inside. “Did you do this on purpose?!”

“Yes -- I mean, no.”

“It is winter, where did this even come from?!”

“Well, I was permitted to take it from the indoor garden,” he mentioned softly, Anna’s brows now knitting together.

“You did this?” He nodded. “Why?”

“It’s supposed to be romantic.”

“It’s a mess on the floor, Taeyong! As a maid, I have to clean things like this up!” she complained and he nodded a little too much. Coming over to place the small bouquet he had been holding down on the table, he crouched to start scooping the petals up.

“Wait, you did this for me?” Anna asked as she picked up the flowers, and he glanced at her before straightening up again.

“After our kiss yesterday, I felt that there’s been a reason for our endless bickering.”

“What reason?”

He smiled; relieved to know she wasn’t aware of it either. “I believe I may have feelings for you.”

“For me?”

“Who else puts up with me as well as you?” he offered and she blinked a few times before smiling.

“You do have a point.”

“And whilst you’re the most intolerable woman I have ever met-”

“Hey!”

“I know you’ll be the only woman I ever want to meet.”

Anna eased, smiling shyly as she took in her flowers. “You did this too?”

“Is it too much?”

“No, it exactly what I expect from you. Messy yet charming. Come, we better clean up in here if we want to make it to the festival in time.”

_________________

Part 5

[Christmas 2019 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

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lifeflowingon · 4 years ago

Text

| QUICKSILVER | 6 |

• SUMMARY: After a student is gruesomely murdered on campus, Baek Haeju finds herself trying to extract information from the only person who might know the truth. But is secretive English major Min Yoongi just a witness? Or is he the culprit?

• WARNINGS: Death, murders, sex.

• WORDS: 3150.

"He grabs me by the hand, drags me to the shore and says, 'maybe you don't love me but you'll grow to love me even more.' And I.... well, I'm not surprised."

My Number | Tegan and Sara

"This list is... interesting."

Jimin is holding the piece of paper Haeju took from Tae, her eyes narrowed as she reads it over and over again. Jimin keeps mouthing "nine, Walker, September," constantly, and Jungkook gives Haeju a discreet thumbs up.

"Call me crazy," shrugs Jimin, handing the list back to Jungkook. "But we are in the month of September, correct? I wonder what the nine means... can't be September 9th, that already passed..."

Jungkook and Haeju watch Jimin pace back and forth in the deserted newsroom, and the silence becomes almost unbearable. Haeju glances at her watch, knowing that in a few minutes she will have to face Yoongi after running away from him. Jungkook is still smiling at her, but Haeju can't smile back, not when she's feeling this guilty.

Of course, she didn't tell Jungkook about the kiss. She can't and she won't. She plans to set the record straight with Yoongi, that the kiss was just a spur of the moment thing, that it was a mistake.

Deep inside, Haeju knows that it wasn't a mistake at all. But she loves Jungkook, she's known him since forever, and Yoongi is only a mysterious guy with an alluring personality that might or might not know something about a murder.

Yoongi is just a temporary, hormonal crush. And it's so unlike Haeju to be feeling like this, so she's probably just confused.

Confused, right, yes.

"Walker Hall?" muses Jungkook, staring right at Haeju.

"Sorry?" blushes Haeju, still thinking of Yoongi.

"Walker Hall," echoes Jimin impatiently. "The dorm. Could that possibly be the connection? Maybe they're meeting there?"

"That's it!" grins Jungkook. "Jimin, you're so freaking smart."

Jimin snorts derisively and gives Haeju a curious look. "Has Goldsworthy said anything yet? Have you even mentioned Yangmi to him? Or are you too busy fawning over him?"

Haeju feels Jungkook tense up, and the color on her cheeks is giving her away, she's sure.

"I will. Soon."

xxxx

He's not here.

Haeju looks around the classroom in despair and realizes that Yoongi is absent yet again. She feels disappointed and sad, but the main emotion in her heart is guilt. Maybe he hates her; maybe he'll never speak to her again.

She takes her seat and buries her face in her arms, not wanting to emerge. She feels a hand on her back and she sits up just to face Wesley.

"Hello," he says sadly. "You look like I feel."

Wesley takes his usual seat behind Haeju, and she turns around to face him, giving him an understanding smile. "I had a rough weekend," says Haeju.

"Me too," nods Wesley, placing a book on top of his desk. "Jon dropped out and now I'll have to spend the rest of the semester roaming the halls by myself."

Wesley looks simply miserable, but Haeju is shocked at the news that Jon dropped out. That must meant something, surely.

"Why did he drop out?" whispers Haeju.

"Isn't it obvious?" frowns Wesley. "He's still mourning Yangmi. His other, er, friends, betrayed him. Everything kind of piled up on him. But you should know that, you're friends with Yoongi after all."

"Can I ask you something?" says Haeju hurriedly as Miss Dawes enters the classroom.

"What?" asks Wesley, suddenly defensive.

"Was Jon part of a secret society?" mutters Haeju. Wesley glances around and leans in, the bridge of his glasses sliding to the tip of his nose.

"Maybe," he mumbles, and he looks afraid. "But you didn't hear it from me, okay?"

Haeju wants to ask Wesley more questions but Miss Dawes is starting the lecture, so she has to turn around and face the professor. The class seems to last forever, but when Haeju tries to approach Wesley at the end, he merely shakes his head and walks away without saying a word. Nobody wants to talk, and this is getting frustrating.

Xxxx

"Cat ears!"

"Meow!"

"I'm craving some tuna, meow meow meow!"

Haeju is walking out of the Smith building, just to see a couple of guys standing by the fountain. She also notices Tae sitting nearby, completely immersed in a book. It doesn't take long for Haeju to realize that the guys are making fun of Tae.

"Hey, don't you have anything better to do?" snaps Haeju irritably, and the guys just mutter some more inappropriate things before walking away. Haeju sits next to Tae, who continues to read, her lips moving soundlessly.

"Hello," says Haeju, eager to ask him where Yoongi is. "What are you reading?"

"Invisible Monsters," says Tae, eyes still fixed on the book. "Yoongi has been asking me to read it for years, so here I am."

"It's a really good book," agrees Haeju.

"Very quotable," nods Tae. "Maybe I'll use some lines for one of my monologues. I'm an actor, you know that, right?"

"I do," chuckles Haeju. Tae puts down the book, and he stares at the cover for a while before throwing it in her bag.

"I wish Jungkook would stop flirting with Hoseok's girlfriend," mutters Tae out of nowhere. "He's going to get hurt."

"Excuse me?" asks Haeju aggressively, looking up.

Jungkook is shamelessly flirting with Lee Jiah, the girl he got the quote from the other day. They're standing by the dining hall entrance, talking. Jiah is nodding politely at Jungkook, and her smile is forced.

But also, Jiah is dating Hoseok? Haeju suddenly remembers when she overheard Hoseok, Tae and Yoongi's conversation; Hoseok said he would text Jiah. Oh. Haeju wonders if Jiah has a tattoo as well or she's oblivious to everything.

"Yeah, he talks to her... a lot," says Tae in a singsong tone. "That's why I'm here, spying on them. And Hoseok gets so mad! I swear, Yoongi and Hoseok will soon start an IhateJeonJungkook club. Since he was a jerk to you, maybe you can be the secretary."

Haeju laughs humorlessly, still staring at Jungkook and Jiah. She shouldn't feel jealous, no. Jungkook is dating her, not Jiah, and maybe Jungkook just wants to throw off people so they don't find out about his relationship. Okay, maybe Jungkook hasn't said anything about this being an actual relationship, but it has to be. It just has to be.

"Anyway, thanks for yelling at those guys," says Tae, and Haeju looks away from Jungkook. "People always make fun of my clothing, but I thought bullying was a high school thing."

"People will always be stupid," smiles Haeju, still feeling furious with Jungkook. "Hey, so... Yoongi didn't show up for class. Is he okay?"

Tae frowns and looks away, gnawing hard on his lower lip. "He's busy," says Tae emotionlessly.

"Oh, I thought that maybe" starts Haeju.

"He's avoiding you?" asks Tae, glancing at Haeju. "Because you ran away after he kissed you?" Haeju blushes immediately, and she swallows, her heart racing. "He, um, h-he told you?" stammers Haeju.

"Of course, we're best friends," says Tae. "Duh. That wasn't cool, Haeju. He really likes you."

"He does?" asks Haeju, and she knows that she shouldn't care if Yoongi does like her or not.

"He kissed you, didn't he?" snorts Tae.

"Well, yeah, but maybe it could have been just the moment or something," says Haeju. "Maybe he regrets it."

"There are only a few things that Yoongi regrets," says Tae pensively. "And trust me, kissing you isn't one of them."

"I just wish I knew more about him," sighs Haeju, and she's telling the truth. Not only for Jungkook's article, but she wants to know more about Yoongi.

"Good luck," chuckles Tae. "Yoongi is the most secretive guy you'll ever meet. He will never let you in if he doesn't want to. And... he's scared right now. He doesn't say it, but I know he is."

It seems like Tae is talking more to himself than to Haeju, but that's fine, that's what Haeju needs. Maybe Yoongi isn't the only missing piece in Yangmi's murder... maybe Tae can help too.

"How do you know?" asks Haeju.

"You don't understand Yoongi like I do," says Tae simply. The boy then proceeds to take off his gloves, putting them aside so he can stare at his fingernails. Haeju can't help but notice that Tae's nails are painted with markers.

Just like Yoongi's.

"Why do you say that?" asks Haeju, moving closer to Tae.

"I've seen him suffer, you know?" says Tae absentmindedly, his eyes still fixed on his nails. "Seen him go through tremendous loss. I don't want him to go through that again."

Tae's dreamy look disappears, replaced for a more menacing expression. He looks angry, and hurt, but when he speaks he still sounds childlike.

"Don't hurt him," says Tae, shrugging. "Please don't. I know his moods are mercurial and unpredictable, but he is a really cool guy underneath all that sarcasm and cynicism."

Haeju says nothing and looks at the students rushing by, her heart feeling heavy.

"Follow me," says Tae, standing up, offering his hand to Haeju. Haeju takes it and Tae drags her along, walking fast, causing student to giggle and stare.

"Where are we going?" blurts Haeju, trying to keep up.

"You wanted to see Yoongi, right?" says Tae bitterly. "Well, we'll go see him"

Tae turns around briefly and gives Haeju a cold look, almost as if he hates her for something. It doesn't fit his bubbly personality but then again, Haeju doesn't really know him.

"We're going to Walker Hall."

xxxx

Haeju has only been in Walker Hall once, to visit her friend Kiwoo. Kiwoo got a scholarship at Harvard and left just months after their first year started, and Haeju finds herself missing him. And Chaerin spent most of her time here while dating Chaeku, since this hall is where his room is located.

Tae is still walking fast, and he keeps looking around surreptitiously, as if not wanting to be followed. They finally arrive to the dorm's common room, and Haeju is surprised to see Chaeku, Hoseok and Yoongi sharing some laughs with Choi Bongchol.

Bongchol?

"Hey, guys," says Tae loudly, and they all turn around to look. Yoongi's cheerful expression disappears quickly, and Chaeku looks terribly uncomfortable as Hoseok glares at Tae. Bongchol looks at the floor and coughs awkwardly, not looking at Haeju.

"What are you guys doing here?" asks Hoseok, feigning calm.

"Baek Haeju wants to talk to you, Yoongi," says Tae, letting go of Haeju's hand and beckoning her to move.

"Ah," says Yoongi softly. "Sorry about skipping class."

"Yeah, um," Haeju stares at her hands, not knowing what else to do.

"Chaeku, can we use your room?" asks Yoongi, still sounding extremely nonchalant.

"Yeah, man, of course," says Chaeku warmly. Haeju feels a little confused; didn't Yoongi say that he didn't talk to Chaeku, at least not that much? The looks they're exchanging are of lifelong friends, and this puzzles Haeju.

"Come on," says Yoongi, walking past her, and Haeju follows him. Yoongi walks down the hall knowingly, quickly finding Chaekus's room. He opens the door and Haeju walks in, almost shaking.

"So," says Yoongi, leaning against the door. "What do you want?"

"You skipped class today," states Haeju.

"The sky is blue, roses are red," shrugs Yoongi impassively. "Sorry, I didn't feel like going to class."

"Tae told me you were busy," continues Haeju, feeling desolated at Yoongi's indifference. "I just want to tell you that I don't want things to be weird between us."

Yoongi pierces her with his glare, his jaw clenching at Haeju's words. He seems furious for a moment, but then he breathes deeply, looking away.

"I'm so sorry for running away," blubbers Haeju. "I'm really sorry, I-"

"I understand," nods Yoongi. "I actually wanted to apologize too."

"For what?" blinks Haeju.

"Maybe I rushed into things," says Yoongi guardedly. "I... I tend to do that. I know we're in college and all, but I tend to forget that there are girls like you who still have some decency... and maybe you were just not ready for that."

Haeju stares at Yoongi, and an amused chuckle escapes her. "Is that what you think?" asks Haeju.

"Um... yes," says Yoongi. "Unless I'm being a conceited asshole and you actually ran away because I'm a terrible kisser or because you don't like me at all."

"It's not that," says Haeju, shaking her head. She wants to ask him if he knows anything about Yangmi, she wants to know what's going on with the tattoos, if Acuity exists, if...

"Tell me then," shrugs Yoongi.

"I don't know you," says Haeju honestly. "I'm not the kind of girl who makes out with random guys, you're right about that. But I really don't know much about you and that makes me uneasy."

There. She doesn't have to lie to him all the time.

"You know my name," smirks Yoongi. "Isn't that enough?"

"Not really," says Haeju, smiling at him.

"You're nosy," says Yoongi, moving closer to her.

"You're the one who has been stalking me for months," says Haeju mockingly.

"Not stalking, observing," says Yoongi dramatically. He grabs one of Haeju's hands, his fingers slowly sliding between hers. Haeju looks into his eyes, knowing that this is not the I'msorryaboutthekissthiswillneverhappen again conversation that they were supposed to have.

"I just want to get to know you better," says Haeju quietly.

"Why? I'm not that interesting," says Yoongi evasively. "You'll get bored of me in three seconds."

"I doubt that," says Haeju mischievously. "Unless you have something to hide."

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, letting go of Haeju's hand. He places his hands on her hips, gently pulling her closer to him. "I don't," he says huskily. "Do you?"

Yes, thinks Haeju. But she just shakes his head, and Yoongi's fingers are possessively digging into her hips. She feels agitated at his touch, the blood in her veins feeling tremendously hot.

"Fine, we'll get to know each other," says Yoongi, and he almost sounds sincere. "But I have a request."

"Is it legal?" blurts Haeju, making Yoongi laugh.

"What kind of person do you think I am?" sneers Yoongi. "Yes, it's legal."

"What is it?" asks Haeju as Yoongi starts leaning in.

"Do you mind being discreet about... this thing between us?" asks Yoongi, his nose brushing hers.

"Um, I..." Proper sentences seems to have abandoned Haeju, because Yoongi being so close makes her feel dizzy. "Why?"

"Just trust me, okay?" says Yoongi, and his breath is teasing Haeju's lips. She tilts her head forward and their lips meet, and it's nothing like last time. She quickly places her arms around his waist, earning a low groan from Yoongi, the kiss quickly turning passionate.

Yoongi's teeth tug gently on her lower lip, and Haeju has never been kissed like this before. Jungkook is always very careful during their makeout sessions, knowing that they won't go "all the way," and he's always cautious not to get too carried away. Haeju finds that charming about him. But Yoongi is mercilessly attacking her lips, and Haeju loves it. She wants more of him, so she tries to kiss back the same way, but Yoongi is too dominant. She is almost melting, she can barely feel her limbs, but her lips are very much alive.

"This is the part where you run away," gasps Yoongi between kisses.

"I want to stay," breathes Haeju as Yoongi's lips start nibbling on her earlobe. Yoongi lets out a hoarse chuckle, and then places a long, sweet kiss on Haeju's cheek.

"I'm going to regret saying this, but I have stuff to do," says Yoongi, his lips searching for Haeju's, kissing her again. "Maybe we can hang out after I'm done? I promise you will get to know more stuff about old boring me."

"It depends on the time," says Haeju, not wanting to let go of Yoongi. "Not too late?"

"Nah, I should be free in a few hours," nods Yoongi. "I'll pick you up."

"Do you know where I live?" asks Haeju with wide eyes.

"I'm a stalker, but not I'm not that creepy," teases Yoongi.

"You're slacking on your stalking skills then," giggles Haeju.

"Fine, I'll switch majors and get a Stalker Sciences degree," winks Yoongi, pulling her closer to him. Haeju smiles shyly as Yoongi kisses her gently, and she wishes that things weren't as complicated as they're turning out to be.

They kiss for a few more minutes, and when Haeju finally leaves Chaeku's room (she steps out before Yoongi does) she notices something. She tries not to gasp and look too obvious, so she walks away quickly, the number on Chaeku's door engraved in her thoughts.

"Nine," she whispers, almost running out of the building.

xxxx

"Tark dropping out is very suspicious... and Walker Hall? I wonder if that's where they always meet... hmm."

"I don't know, Jungkook... this is making me really nervous," sighs Haeju. "And I'm hanging out with Yoongi tonight..."

"So he's letting you in!" says Jungkook excitedly.

Haeju holds on to the phone as she checks herself in the mirror one more time, feeling nervous. She gave Jungkook the censored version of her meeting with Yoongi, making sure that Jungkook knows that she absolutely hates spending time with the boy. Lying is becoming easier and easier for Haeju, it seems.

"Yeah, I guess, says Haeju. "His other friends might come along, but it's something, right?"

Lying, lying. She can't stop lying.

"Jungkook," says Haeju seriously. "I um, saw you talking to Jiah today."

"Who?"

"Jiah? Lee Jiah?" insists Haeju, trying to not sound jealous.

"Oh yeah, she wants to write for the paper," says Jungkook dismissively.

"Okay, but-"

"Haeju, you need to ask Yoongi about Yangmi," interrupts Jungkook. "Just casually mention her and see his reaction."

Haeju says nothing, feeling disappointed at Jungkook's answer about Jiah. Haeju knows that Jungkook has always been flirtatious by nature, but they have something going on now and... Haeju sighs and decides to bury her insecurities for now.

"I will," says Haeju. "Hopefully we will get some alone time and then I'll ask him."

"Haha, yes, that would be perfect," chuckles Jungkook. "Should I be worried, though?"

"About what?" asks Haeju anxiously.

"What if Yoongi starts liking you?" says Jungkook with laughter in his voice. "Or what if you start liking him? Should I be jealo- Oh man, I can't even finish that sentence. Yoongi is so not your type, am I right?"

Haeju looks at her reflection again, listening to Jungkook's laughter on the other line, and thinks of the kiss she shared with Yoongi just hours ago.

"You're right. He's not. Not at all."

| masterlist |

#bts #bts au #min yoongi #au

0 notes

ben-barnes-is-my-husband · 8 years ago

Note

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Not sure if you're still taking jonsa prompts but I love a kinky domJon and know you do too so here goes nothing. By day Sansa is all business, negotiating trade, handling petitions, dealing with the left over Dothraki, currying favor with visiting Lords and generally healing a post Long Night 2 Westeros. By night however she just wants to let go of control and enjoy being taken like a bitch in heat, commanded, used for pleasure, marked, denied and made to beg by her King.

Oooh boy! I don’t think I’ve played a lot with Dom!Jon, but I think I like it! Thanks, anon!

I Crave Subjugation

Rating: Explicit as Fuck

Jon’s heart swelled in his chest as it always did when he saw Sansa after a long day of being apart, tending to their duties. He feared that his Queen worked harder than he did. It made sense though, for she was more politically minded than he was, and it wasn’t odd to have his council seek her opinion along with his. Or to go with hers instead of his.

She glided across the room in a dress made up of Stark colors. It clung to her curves, showing her waist and the swell of her bosom. It was dipped low, the tops of her breasts pushing against the décolletage of her dress, giving Jon and every man in the dining hall a show.

Jon felt himself start to harden at the sight. He knew what his wife wanted this evening. What she always wanted after a day of ordering others about, making decision after decision for the good of Winterfell, the North, and all its people: subjugation.

He had never considered himself the sort to command a woman, to do the depraved things Sansa craved him to do to her in the bedchamber when she had need of it. But with Sansa…she had the ability to awaken him to things he’d never known he’d wanted or needed.

It was no wonder he loved her so desperately. Needed her endlessly. Craved her constantly. With her, he was his true self. With her he could be vulnerable. With her he could rule the North, but only with her as his Queen, only with her by his side.

And with her, he could tap into a side of himself he didn’t know he had in him. The darker side; the side that craved to command his Queen, to make her bend the knee to him, to make her please him, to make her irrevocably his over and over and over again.

She taunted him now, got his blood up as she passed by the Northern Lords in attendance and made them love her and lust after her with well-placed smiled and quips. She wanted to rouse his anger enough to take control over her, and thereby bring his lust and his need to the forefront.

It worked. Every. Single. Time.

He didn’t like the Northern Lords looking at their Queen like that. At his Queen. At his Sansa.

Finally, when she came to sit beside him, he stood, pulling her chair out for her. She smiled at him and sat, and when he pushed her chair in, he leaned in to her ear and whispered, “Did you enjoy your flirtation with the Northern Lords, my lady wife?”

“Perhaps,” she said nonchalantly.

“Are we feeling impertinent this evening?”

She looked at him, and then lowered her eyes as soon as she saw the ire written all over his face. “No, my King.”

His nostrils flared. Their game had begun.

“Eat your dinner, Sansa,” he commanded lowly. “And as soon you are done, I want you in our bedchambers. Ready a bath for me, and it better be ready and piping hot by the time I arrive. I want you naked and I want you on your knees.”

“Yes, my King.”

Jon sat back, thinking this might be the longest dinner of his life with his cock hard and his blood up. Sansa would be lucky if she made it through this meal without him taking her right there on the table.

xxxxxxxx

As soon as her last morsel of dinner had been put in her mouth, she saw Jon looking at her pointedly out of the corner of her eye. She swallowed quickly and hurriedly excused herself, flushing with heat and anticipation.

Her skin tingled with the promise of what was to come, of how Jon was going to take her that night, of how he was going to order her to serve him and do every filthy thing he could think to make her do.

Gods. She could not wait.

She needed the release that their game provided.

At first, she thought there must be something wrong with her when her desire to be dominated in the dirtiest ways possible came to the forefront of her and Jon’s heated couplings. It had started with asking him to smack her ass, then pull her hair, then mark her skin with his mouth. He had hesitated with each act she asked of him, ever mindful of all that she’d endured under Ramsay.

Was it because of him that she’d wanted this? Was there something sick and broken inside her that made her desire such things? Or had it been there all along and had only needed the right man to set it free? She chose to believe that it was Jon, her trust in him, and her love for him.

With Jon she felt safe, always. She knew he would never hurt her unless she asked him to, and even then it was never a real kind of hurt. He never made her afraid. Instead, he made her feel alive. Free. And she knew he felt the same when they played this game.

An hour after she’d left him, the bath was prepared. Steaming and scented with bergamot, just as he liked it. And she was naked, aside from a strip of leather she wore tied about her neck that fell down to her calves. She knelt next to the tub, waiting for her Lord and Master to arrive.

When he arrived with a boom and a shake of the door, he stood before her, crown on, and fully dressed.

Her mind slipped into that of his subjugate.

He walked over to her and her heart began to race. Would he find the bath pleasing? Would he find her pleasing?

He dipped his hand into the water. “Well done,” he said. “Now stand and undress me.”

Sansa stood quickly, and her head felt light. She reached for his crown first and his penetrating gray eyes bored into her with warning. “Be careful of my crown,” he growled.

Sansa shivered, gooseflesh appearing on her arms. “Yes, my King.”

Carefully, she removed his crown and carried it to the bureau and placed it next to hers. Demurely, with her hands folded before her, she returned to him and began to undress him.

“If you don’t do this quickly,” he drawled, “then my bath will turn cold and I’ll have to punish you for it.”

Oh, how she wanted to be punished! Still, she undressed him quickly and laid his clothes neatly on a nearby table. When she turned after having finished, she found Jon looking at her with eyes narrowed.

“My bath is not as hot,” he told her. “You took too long laying out my garments.”

“I—I am s-sorry, your Grace.”

“You certainly will be. Now get over here and help me into the bath.”

She practically ran to assist him. Once he was leaned back in the hot water, groaning with satisfaction, he crooked his finger at her. “Kneel and wash me.”

Grabbing a cloth and soap, Sansa dipped both into the water and lathered the cloth up. She then proceeded to glide the cloth along Jon’s strong arms, his muscled chest and stomach and down, down, down to his hard cock. She stopped and looked up at him through her lashes.

“Did I tell you to stop?” he asked.

“No, my King.”

“Then why did you?”

“You would have me wash it for you?”

“Yes,” he said with a hiss.

Excited, but trying hard not to show it, Sansa wrapped her hand around his cock with the cloth acting as a barrier and stroked up and down his length. Gods, he was hard. And she was getting wetter by the second.

She rubbed her thighs together and bit back a moan. But Jon noticed. He always noticed. He never took his eyes off her. “Get up,” he ordered. “Get up and go to the bed. Bend over and put your hands on the bed. I want to see your ass. And do. Not. Move.”

Sansa nodded and did as she was told, her face heating with what was to come.

She heard Jon finish up his bath and she dug her hands into the furs on the bed, wishing she could see him wet and as naked as his nameday.

Silence fell and Sansa wondered what he was doing. She didn’t even hear him moving around any longer. The longer the silence, the more restless she became. She couldn’t help but peak over her shoulder to see what he was doing.

And he was right there behind her, naked and frowning at her disapprovingly.

“Tsk tsk tsk, Sansa,” he said with a shake of his head. “I told you not to move and yet you did.”

“Jon—”

Thwack! His hand came down on her ass and she jumped at the sting and surprise of it.

“What did you just call me?” he demanded.

She was panting now, eager. “Jon. I called you Jon.”

He smacked her again. “Is that what you call me?” he roared.

“No!”

“What do you call me?”

“I call you my King!”

He smacked her again, twice in a row. “Because what am I to you?”

“My King,” she gasped. “My Lord and Master.”

He smacked her again and she ducked her head, shutting her eyes tight and resisting the urge to moan.

“On your knees. I want you to suck me.”

Sansa swallowed hard as she got down on her knees, lightheaded from being bent over. She gazed up at Jon, knowing how much he liked to see her looking at him when she took him in her mouth.

“Take down the leather,” he ordered.

She nodded and undid the leather strip about her neck. He grabbed it and looped them around her wrists, binding them together.

“You’re going to take me all the way down your throat like the filthy girl you are. You’re not my Queen in here, Sansa. You’re my whore. You acted the whore for all those men tonight. Enticing them with that dress and your tits on display. You don’t smile like that for those Northern Lords. You smile for your King like that, do you understand me?”

She nodded. “Yes, my King.”

“Suck me off. I want to hear you choke on it.” He grabbed her chin roughly and leaned down so that he was in her face. “And do not turn your eyes from me. Nor do you use your hands, understand?”

She nodded. “Yes, my King.”

“Suck.”

First, she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, gathering up his juices that were leaking already from the tip. Then she suckled on it, which caused him to card his fingers through her hair and tug slightly. Then she took him down as far as she could, which wasn’t far the first time around. He waited patiently for her to try again. Further this time she went, focusing on relaxing her throat.

He grew impatient, as he always did, and thrust forward into her mouth, causing her to gag. Her eyes closed and he tugged on her hair.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he growled. “Look at me.”

She opened her eyes, watering from having gagged on him, and began bobbing up and down on his cock. He hit the back of her throat again, and she gagged again. She moved her mouth off him, and gathered her breath. She spit onto his cock and a trail of it landed on her breasts.

He forced her mouth back on him and she took him in deep. He pushed further down and she gagged again and backed off, spitting again on his cock. Again she took him in and this time went further. When she tried to pull back, he wouldn’t let her. Instead, he held her there and she waited, trying hard not to struggle. Then he released her and she took her mouth off him and coughed.

“Again,” he commanded.

He gripped her hair hard enough to sting just a little, and she managed to take him down further and then further and then he started fucking hard and fast into her throat.

She choked and gagged and drooled messily all over his cock. Finally, he released her and pushed her off of him.

His cock was wet and glistening, a trail of spit on the tip. She licked her lips, thinking of it being inside her cunt.

Jon reached down and undid the binding of her wrists. He dropped the strip of leather onto the bed and told her to get onto it with her ass on the edge and her legs up.

Sansa assumed position and watched him go to their bureau. He extracted a large black pouch and felt a tremor of excitement ripple through her. He was getting the black wooden phallus he’d had made for her. It resembled his cock, only not as long as he was.

He came over to her and placed it against her folds, twisting and turning it in her wetness. “Such a whore,” he commented. “So wet and wanton for me.”

“I am a whore, my King.”

“Whose whore are you?” he barked.

“Yours, my King. Only yours.”

“That’s right. My whore. My woman,” he gritted out. He placed the head of the wooden phallus at her hole and pushed it in.

Sansa gasped at the intrusion. Instead of pulling it out and fucking her with it, Jon kept it inside her as he bent his head and licked at her nub. She squealed and struggled not to move in the direction of his mouth.

“Don’t you dare peak,” he warned her. “You don’t peak until I tell you to, do you understand me, whore?”

“Yes, my King,” she said, breathless and strained. She was so close already…

He started to fuck her with the phallus while he licked at her and when she was close, so close she couldn’t have possibly held back one more second, he stopped licking her and pulled the phallus out of her.

Sansa knew this was to be expected that at some point he would deny her peak completely, but still she reacted as she always did because Gods, she had been rightthere.

She cried out, sobbed, and begged Jon for release while writhing on the bed. “Please, my King, please, please, please…I need to peak, please, my King…”

He stroked his cock as he looked down at her, snarling. “Look at you, writhing on the bed like a bitch in heat.”

She reached for him, eyes pleading, her folds throbbing with need. “Please, my King. Use your whore, your dirty whore. Make me peak for you.”

He came over to her and stroked the tip of his cock against her nub. Her breath hitched and she undulated her hips, seeking him, seeking release.

“Play with your tits,” he ordered.

Her hands immediately went to her breasts. She pulled on her nipples, teased them, made them hurt just enough.

“Back on your knees, I want to fuck them.”

Sansa begged still, unmoving, knowing that would rouse a punishment from him. She wasn’t disappointed. He grabbed the leather strap and folded it several times over. Then he commanded her to hold her legs up again. She did, quivering and he smacked her ass with the leather.

She cried out, writhing again, and he smacked her again and again. He dropped the leather to the floor and then she felt his hand on her ass smoothing where he’d struck. She whimpered. She was out of her mind with need now; she was desperate. She clawed at the furs as he then put his mouth on her ass, kissing it gently.

“Spread your legs.”

She did and he licked her from the rosebud of her ass to her cunt. She dug her nails into the furs so she wouldn’t grab his head and push him into her cunt.

“Please, please, please,” she babbled over and over again.

“Get into the middle of the bed,” he told her with one last lick.

She scooted back, wincing only slightly from her sore bottom. She glanced at Jon and noticed the look of concern that passed over his face.

“How do you want me, my King?” she asked, letting him know this way that she was fine. That she loved this and needed this so badly.

“On your back, push your tits together.”

He crawled over her straddling her chest, and spit into the valley of her breasts. She spread his spit down between her breasts, making the passage slick for his cock. He laid his cock at the bottom of her pushed together breasts and thrust forward. He fucked her tits hard and fast, groaning, and Sansa rubbed her legs together, seeking some kind of relief.

While he fucked her tits, he reached behind him and teased her folds with his fingers. She lifted her hips and he pinched her clit, causing her to cry out for more.

He moved off of her, and she begged again. If she didn’t peak soon she was going to fall to pieces, she needed it so very badly…

“On your knees, whore,” he ordered her.

Whimpering, she got on her knees and spread her legs just as he liked, pushing her face into the furs.

He put his cock at her entrance and Sansa held her breath and shut her eyes, willing him to fill her. Please, please, please, she begged in her mind.

He slammed inside her and she cried out, grabbing at the furs as he set a brutal pace. His hands dug into her hips and she knew he’d leave marks there. He usually did. A reminder of who she belonged to.

“Cum!” he shouted.

And she did, crying out, with tears rolling down her cheeks, so thankful for the sweet release. She shut her eyes, dizzy, as her peak washed over her, causing her legs to tremble, and her body to quake.

Still, Jon pounded inside her, seeking his own release. “You’re mine, Sansa,” he grunted. “My whore. My Queen. My woman.”

“Yes,” she said weakly.

“Yes, what!” he shouted.

“Yes, my King, my sweet King, my lovely King…”

She felt him press against her nub with his finger and her eyes widened. She couldn’t possibly peak again, but she knew that he was going to make her. She shut her eyes, feeling that familiar tension build as he rubbed her again and again.

She cried out hoarsely when she peaked again. Jon roared, holding himself inside her as he emptied his seed. Sansa’s legs gave way and she collapsed against the bed, taking Jon with her so that he fell against her back, bracing himself on his arms so she didn’t take the full force of him.

He pulled out of her and she whimpered. He fell to the side, facing her. He was panting, and she could see the sweat on his forehead and chest. She was boneless against the bed, unable to move. But that was fine. Jon did the work this time. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, and then finally her mouth. He kissed her lovingly, passionately, and greedily.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Gods, I love you, Sansa. My Queen.”

“Your whore,” she teased.

“No, not now. You’re my Queen.”

She smiled tiredly. When the game was over, he refused to refer to her as such. And she loved him all the more for it.

“Did I hurt you at all?” he asked her tenderly, as he ran a hand down her back.

“No,” she said. “I loved it all. You know I do.”

“I saw you wince,” he said. “You know I don’t want to hurt you, sweet girl.” He groaned and kissed her. “Gods, you drive me mad. You consume me…”

She kissed him and ran her fingertips along the side of his face. “Perhaps you could put oil on my bum?”

He nodded. “Happily. Whatever you need.”

Sansa snuggled into the furs as Jon got up to grab the oil and tend to her. She smiled happily, contentedly. And sated.

For now.

#jonsa #jonsan #jon x sansa #prompts #asks

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marvelous-heroimagines · 8 years ago

Text

Touch

Requested by: Anonymous (Here are the specifics)

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Word Count: 2.3K Warnings: Swearing, fluff

A/N: Reader is blind

Y/E/C: Your Eye Colour

~~Bucky’s POV~~

“Buck!” Steve exclaims as Bucky wanders out of the elevator,

“Hey pal,” Bucky mumbles, his attention being drawn to his surroundings. Bucky had never seen anything like Stark Tower, it was just another prime example of Tony’s endless budget,

“Glad to have you back,” Steve grins at Bucky and pulls him into a tight hug, “How was the flight?”

“Fine,” Bucky finally focuses on his best friend, and is stopped in his tracks when he notices Clint, Nat, Sam, Vision and Tony standing a few feet behind,

“What did T’Challa’s people say?” Tony asks as he tentatively steps forward. Bucky tenses as Tony continues to approach, looking apprehensive,

“Um,” Bucky shakes off the nerves and tries to remember Tony’s question, “They said that I’m still fine. The triggers are still inactive, and I shouldn’t need to go for anymore check ups unless something happens,”

Tony visibly relaxes, and releases a silent sigh of relief. Bucky hadn’t seen him since the events in Serbia, and even though Tony had personally said that there was no more bad blood between the two of them, Bucky was still nervous about their intertwined pasts.

“Where’s Wanda?” Bucky asks, trying to change the subject from his recent visit to Wakanda,

“She’ll be here in a moment,” Vision speaks up, giving Bucky a kind look, “She’s just gone to get the new agent,”

“New agent?” Bucky’s brow furrows and he glances at Steve, looking for an explanation,

“We recruited her while you’ve been away,” Steve explains, “She’s remarkable. You won’t believe her skills, especially because-”

“Where did she come from?” Bucky cuts off Steve,

“You must be Bucky,” a soft female voice sounds from behind Bucky. He spins around and spots the new girl. She was breathtaking. Bucky’s stomach flips as he watches her approach. Suddenly he notices that she isn’t taking her sunglasses off. His eyes flit down and see that she’s holding Wanda’s hand. Bucky quickly wipes the confusion from his features, sure it was weird to wear sunglasses inside, but frowning at her was rude.

“Hello,” Bucky politely says, his voice breaking from the nerves of being confronted with such a beautiful woman. He inwardly curses himself as he feels his cheeks flushing. ‘She totally noticed that’ he inwardly groans.

“I’m Y/N,” she grins at him. He wishes she would take her sunglasses off, he needs to know what colour her eyes are. Although, he’s certain that no matter what colour they are, it’d become his new favourite colour.

Bucky is suddenly brought back to reality when he feels hands on his face. He immediately pulls back, “What the fuck?” he shouts. Confusion and surprise flooding him as he realises it was Y/N touching him.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she hurriedly says, “It helps me to be able to feel people’s faces, so that I can mentally map their features in my mind,”

“Um...” Bucky drawls out, looking around at everyone, confusion painted on his face,

“They didn’t tell you?” Y/N questions. Bucky sees her eyebrows drop beneath her sunglasses, probably in a frown, “I didn’t mean to startle you, Bucky. I’m sorry,” Y/N let’s out a soft laugh and Bucky’s stomach knots. Her laugh rings out in his ears, it was a sound he wouldn’t mind hearing over and over for the rest of his life, “I’m blind,”

Bucky’s jaw drops open, and his brow returns to its almost permanent state of being furrowed. Y/N slowly removes the sunglasses and Bucky is met with a set of stunning Y/E/C of eyes, but they are staring slightly to the left of where Bucky was standing.

Almost as if to test her, Bucky moves slowly side to side, but her eyes remained fixed on the space beside him.

“You don’t need to test me,” Y/N laughs, “I can’t see, but I can hear you moving around to see if I’m lying,”

Bucky turns to Steve, completely dumbfounded, silently looking for an explanation.

“I told you she’s remarkable,” Steve shrugs, letting out a chuckle,

“So she’s like that blind vigilante from Hell’s Kitchen?” Bucky questions the team,

“Sort of,” Y/N answers him, “I’m not quite as good as Murdoch. I can’t see in that kind of radar sense that he does, but I manage,” she shrugs, a smirk lifting her lips at the corners. Bucky is silent, trying to process everything when Y/N steps forward again, “Bucky, if you don’t mind, may I map your face again please? I didn’t get a proper chance before,”

Bucky nods, before realising that she can’t see him, “Oh, sorry,” he mumbles, “Sure,”

Bucky instinctively holds his breath as Y/N slowly extends her hands towards his face. The moment her soft fingers tips meet his stubbled chin, Bucky finds himself relaxing. Without thinking, Bucky closes his eyes, letting Y/N hands delicately run all over his face, mapping out his features.

“Thank you,” she says, and Bucky snaps his eyes open just in time to see her smiling at him. Y/N turns to where Clint, Nat, Vision and Sam are still standing, “You were right, Natasha, he does have a nice bone structure,”

The rest of the team chuckle as Bucky’s cheeks flush once more. If he had a nice bone structure, then her’s resembles the gods.

~~Reader’s POV~~

Moving slowly, you make your way down the hall and into the kitchen in search of the where the sound of whistling wind was coming from. Being a trained agent who had hyper sensitive hearing wasn’t all fun and games; the smallest sound would wake you from slumber, no matter how tired you were or how quiet the sound was.

Your hands run along the smooth concrete walls when the corridor opens up, into the combined kitchen, dining and lounge. You make sure not to rush yourself, you were still learning the exact lay out of Stark Tower, and even though you had the whole floor mapped out in your mind, you were still trying to commit it to muscle memory.

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath, your toe starting to throb from being jammed into the couch. You take a deep breath and push the pain aside, making sure to solidify the memory of where the long couch was in the lounge room.

Reaching out, your fingers finally meet the cool glass from the balcony sliding doors. ‘Someone must have left it open,’ you conclude as your hands move along the glass, searching for the door handle. As your left hands falls forward, having found the door opening, you move into the open door way and let your right hand search up and down the glass door for the handle.

You’re about to drag the balcony door closed when your ears pick up the faint sound of heavy breathing and a racing heart. You stand still, straining your ears to listen harder. Every person had a different sounding heart beat; sometimes marginally different, like Vision’s mechanical whirring that was his version of a heart beat, and sometimes only slightly different, like Natasha’s light, quiet heart beat. You had just about committed the entire teams heart beat to memory, making it easier to tell who was nearby without having to constantly ask.

But this heart beat was new to you. It was strong, like Steve’s, but it sounded like a wounded bull - forcing itself to carry on even though it was tired and wanted to stop.

“Bucky?” you call out, it was the only conclusion that made sense. Bucky takes a startled inhale, and you hear him shift; probably moving to look at you, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,”

Bucky doesn’t make a sound, but you can hear his heart quicken further, and his breathing was becoming more swallow and faster by the second. You tentatively step over the balcony door threshold, trying to remember how many steps it was between the door and the balcony railing.

“Are you okay?” you ask in a concerned voice. It sounded like Bucky was having a panic attack, but not being able to feel his features made it impossible to know without verbal confirmation, “Just take some deep breaths,” you emphasise your breathing, hoping that he was watching your chest rise and fall with deep, long breaths.

“Good,” you coo, as you hear his breathing start to mimic yours. His heart was still racing, but there wasn’t anything you could suggest to help that, “Are you okay?” you ask again,

“Ye-... No,” Bucky croaks out, his voice strangled. By the sound of it, he was probably trying to hold back some tears.

Your heart sinks. Steve had filled you in on everything that had happened to Bucky, and you weren’t surprised that he wasn’t coping, but it still hurt to know that someone that deserved so much was hurting. You reach your left arm out, and wait until your fingers meet the cold railing. Gripping it, you slowly step forward, advancing towards Bucky; who’s heart rate had picked up again.

“Bucky,” you gently say, “Do you mind?” you let go of the railing and hold your hands out, making it clear that you were asking if you could map out his features again. You wanted to get a clearer idea of how exactly he was feeling.

You hear Bucky take a deep breath, and you almost jump when his fingers meet yours; the cold surface of his left hand making the hairs on your arms stand up. Bucky doesn’t say anything as he softly grips your hands in his and pulls you forward. Bucky releases your hands when your fingers finally meet his strong, stubbled jaw.

Your heart aches as your hands run over Bucky’s features. His brows had a deep crease between them, his jaw was tightly clenched and you can feel the dampness of his cheeks from tears shed.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumble as you remove your hands. Bucky lets out a sigh, and your heart jumps when you feel his hands intertwining with yours.

“You have nothing to feel sorry about,” Bucky says, his voice rough and gravelly, “I’m getting more used to the nightmares, but some nights are worse than others... But I don’t want to think about it anymore,”

You give Bucky a small nod, and feel his hands squeeze yours. You release Bucky’s flesh hand and turn towards the balcony railing, “Is it beautiful?” you ask. “The view, I mean,”

Bucky is silent, and you can hear his heart still beating fast, but his breathing had returned to normal. After minutes of silence, Bucky finally speaks, “It is,”

You smile, trying to imagine what the view would be like, “I wish I knew what the stars look like,” you sigh out,

Bucky’s metal hand squeezes yours and he suddenly jumps into explaining the view to you. How the stars sparkled and shone brighter than spotlights, how the city lights were mimicking the stars, but were nothing compared to natures beauty.

The two of you stood out on the balcony for what felt like hours. Bucky described the view to you in such detail that you finally got a good idea of what it would look like. The entire time, Bucky never seemed to get annoyed when you asked for more detail.

~~Bucky’s POV~~

“It sounds beautiful, Buck,” you say, a small smile pulling at the corner of your lips. Bucky couldn’t help but stare, and he was thankful that you couldn’t see every time he stared at you.

It’s been almost a month since Bucky had met you. A month filled with Bucky having a reason to wake up every morning. Every time he saw you it was like the sun rose in his world again. Bucky took every opportunity he could take to spend time with you. His favourite days were when the two of you would go out and explore the city, and he would find a gorgeous view to describe to you. But, for Bucky, every breathtaking view in New York City was nothing compared to you.

“I have some exciting news,” Bucky says, his hands shaking with nerves. He tries to take a deep breath and calm his racing heart beat. You hum in acknowledgement, prompting Bucky to continue. He takes a deep breath and intertwines his flesh fingers with yours, “So I met a girl,”

“Oh,” you immediately say, and Bucky feels your entire body tense. He can’t keep the smirk off his face as he watches you squirm, “Tell me about her. What is she like?”

“Well,” Bucky breathes out, “I met her recently, and the moment I saw her I was blown away. She’s gorgeous and she’s so independent and strong. I can’t even describe to you how she makes me feel,”

You clear your throat, “She sounds nice,” you squeak out,

“I love her,” Bucky confidently states. He can’t help but smile as he watches you twitch nervously. Bucky hadn’t been sure that you felt the same, but your reaction to his news confirmed that his feelings weren’t one sided.

“Th-That’s really great, Bucky,” you force out,

“I knew that I loved her the moment I met her,” he pauses for a moment, seeing if you would stop him. When you don’t, he readies himself for the full confession, “She had to feel my face, to map it out,” your breathing stops, “Because she’s blind,”

“What?” you blurt out,

“I love you, Y/N,” Bucky finally says.

Suddenly you slap Bucky on his chest, “I can’t believe you!” Bucky can’t help the laugh that escapes him. But you stay silent, and Bucky starts to panic,

“Are you... Do you... Did I misread...” Bucky can’t even form a proper sentence, as his hands start to sweat and his breathing quickens.

“I love you too, Buck,” you chuckle. You bring your hands to Bucky’s face and his eyes instinctively close as you run your hands over his features,

“Can I kiss you?” Bucky leans in so that your foreheads were touching,

“Yes,” you whisper. Bucky closes the gap and finally kisses you. It was something that he’d been wanting to do for a month now, and it was so much more than he had imagined.

Next part

Tags: @redstarstan, @heismyhunter, @rosyfluffyprincess, @invisible2niall, @klutzly, @leahhavoc, @goldenlifevsgutter1996, @coffeeismylife28, @addictwithafandomblog, @hantu369mc, @aboveaverage-fangirl, @impala-moose, @plumsforbuck2016, @buckyandsebsinbin, @meep-meep22, @caitsymichelle13, @pleasefixthepain, @spn-worm, @buckyobsessed, @specs15, @iamaferitale, @dancingdin

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padmidala · 8 years ago

Text

Forever

request: Can you do one like Seasons May Change, but with Anakin?

a/n: Here’s the Anakin rendition of Seasons May Change! Let me just say, I had an absolute blast with this! Probably the most fun I’ve had writing in a while, to be completely honest. It’s about 5,500 words, but it was really fun to write and hopefully really fun to read! I hope you guys enjoy it; I really poured my heart and soul into this one! Happy reading!! - Eliza

Seasons May Change

“Dearest, are you in here?” You looked up from the book in your hands at the sound of your father’s voice echoing through your home’s library, setting the book to the side as his footsteps drew nearer.

“Yes, father! Over here!” You called back. You realized after a moment that there were multiple sets of footsteps drawing near, signalling the presence of your father’s guests; a Jedi knight, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and his padawan, Anakin Skywalker, who was fifteen, the same age as yourself. You’d known that they were coming, but you hadn’t realized they would be so early. You hurried to stand up, smoothing down the simple green gown you were wearing and wishing you had more time to prepare for their visit. After a moment, however, your father rounded the corner with his Jedi guests and any thoughts of changing your clothes were forgotten.

“Ah, there you are, love!” Your father smiled at the sight of you, leaving his companions to walk to your side and wrap an arm firmly around your shoulder. “Y/N, these are our guests. This is Master Obi-Wan -” he gestured to a tall man with dirty blonde hair, dressed in plain, tawny-colored robes, who smiled and dipped his head respectfully to you, “- and his padawan, Anakin -” he gestured now to a boy, already slightly taller than his master, with dark hair done in a traditional Jedi padawan style, who simply looked at you with his lips upturned just slightly. He seemed frozen, until Obi-Wan nudged him and he dipped his head as well. “Y/N, dear, would you keep Anakin company while Obi-Wan and I discuss business? I’ll have someone call you down for supper once it’s time.”

“Of course, father.” You smiled up at your father, who squeezed your shoulder slightly before returning to Obi-Wan’s side and walking away with him, heads bowed together in some secret conversation.

You turned your attention to Anakin, who was still gazing at you with that small smile on his face. You extended your hand to him, expecting him to simply shake it, and were taken by surprise when he took it and bowed just slightly to kiss the back of it gently. Your heart hammered in your chest as he straightened up, and you offered him a small smile similar to his own. “It’s lovely you meet you,” he spoke, and you knew from that moment that his time on your planet would be interesting to say the least.

***

You thought, surprisingly, back to that meeting now, standing in the same place in the same room almost half a decade later. Your father was standing in front of you, and while you had hardly changed, his body seemed like it had aged a century; he leaned heavily on a cane, his back hunched and his arms shaking, and his voice was worn-down and coarse. He seemed resigned, as though he already had one foot in the grave. You, however, felt fire licking through your veins, and thinking of your time spent with Anakin years ago stoked those flames even further. “What?” You demanded, hands flying out in an enraged gesture.

“Darling, please,” your father began, “you know what the doctors have said. I’m not long for this world, and when I am gone, I want to know my daughter is safe and supported. I know it’s difficult right now, but I worry about your happiness.”

“My happiness?” Your lips curled up in an almost feral snarl and you spat those words like they were poison. “Please! You obviously don’t care about -”

Your sentence was cut short as he stumbled, his knees almost giving way beneath him. Unthinkingly, you lunged forward to guide him into the seat you had been occupying before he’d asked to speak to you, all anger forgotten as you helped him into a sitting position. “I know that this is hard for you, Y/N. But please, try to understand. Lars… he’s a good man, and he has much power and influence. I promise you, if you open your mind to it, you will be happy with him, and then I can die knowing my daughter is secure.”

The fire in your blood had been all but extinguished, and now, you couldn’t find it in yourself to argue further. You couldn’t find words at all, so instead, you stood up and walked away, out of the library and out of your home altogether, hoping the fresh air would help you think.

***

Lars Entello was, admittedly, not an entirely unattractive man. He did possess the power and influence your father had spoken of, with money to spare, but he was pompous and arrogant, and your initial meeting was hardly what you would’ve liked. He seem to be immensely enamored with you, or at least with your appearance, just like your father had said. Immediately, he made it his business to be touching you at all times; a hand on your arm, an arm around your shoulders, intertwined fingers, things of that nature. His entitlement to your personal space made you uncomfortable, but you wanted your father to be happy, so you said nothing about how much you immediately disliked him and thought to yourself that at least it couldn’t get worse.

Or, well, you thought it couldn’t get worse. Until there was a week and a half left before your wedding and you never stopped shaking from anxiety and stress. How were you supposed to marry a man you could hardly even look at? The more you got to know him, the more you understood his true nature, the more you hated him.

Being as important as he was, he was a hugely important part of the war between the Republic and the Separatists. They were constantly sending him gifts of increasing extravagance, most of which consisted of rare delicacies or beautiful fabrics, as well as organizing diplomatic meetings of huge feasts with too much negotiation for you to even begin to fathom. He delighted in the attention, and leaned between sides frequently just to send them into a panic. Most recently, you were notified of two Jedi that would be coming to stay at Lars’ palace, sent to woo him back to the Republic.

You were stood in front of the ornate mirror in your well-decorated bedroom, wearing a gown made of the finest fabric and a necklace of beautiful diamonds, feeling completely out of place. You hated this room; it was too big, too frilly. But your fiancée would hear nothing of you staying in a smaller, simpler room, insisting on only the best for his queen. All this fact served to do was further prove that he didn’t know you at all.

The Jedi were due any moment now, so you began to make your way down to the throne room of Lars’ palace. On your way, you heard one of your handmaiden calling for you; just as you had suspected. She turned a corner just as you were about to, stopping short before you could collide. “My apologies, mistress!” She exclaimed. “The Jedi from the Republic have arrived, and His Highness requests your presence.”

You smiled and thanked her, stepping aside to let her bustle past you before you continued down the hallway to the main hall and throne room. As you entered, your fiancée stopped speaking abruptly to look over at you. “Ah!” He exclaimed, extending one hand to you. You quickened your stride to join him, coming to stand at his side and barely even flinching at the way his hand settled around low on your waist. You suspected that soon, you wouldn’t even mind his touch. Oh, joy.

“Masters, this is Her Highness, the queen, Y/N Entello.”

“Not the queen yet, dearest,” you replied, staring determinedly away from him. This earned a hearty laugh from your Lars. “Please, introduce our guests.”

Now, you took the time to truly look at the Jedi. The first looked immediately familiar; the tawny robes and dirty blonde hair causing your eyebrows to furrow and your head to tilt. It wasn’t until your gaze shifted to the other, however, that you felt a small breath leave your parted lips. He had changed drastically - his hair was darker and longer, and there was a scar over one of his eyes - but you would recognize the soft curl of his lips no matter how many years had passed.

For a moment, you were struck breathless, your mind going blank. You didn’t regain your ability to speak until you heard Lars begin to speak. “Of course, darling. These are Jedi Masters Obi-Wan Kenobi and -”

“Anakin,” you breathed the name almost reverently, feeling a thousand emotions and memories rush through you at one, just at the sound of those three syllables.

“What was that, dear?”

“Anakin. Anakin Skywalker.” You said his name larger this time, causing Anakin’s smile to widen as something familiar sparked in his eyes.

“Yes, how did you -”

“Y/N? Is that you?” Anakin cut him off, and in that moment, it was like you only had eyes for each other. “Y/N, you look… wow.”

That seemed to strike a chord with Lars, because his hand on your waist tightened and he cleared his throat loudly. “So, how do you two know each other?” His voice was much louder than necessary, but it did the trick in bringing you back from whatever trance you’d been in with Anakin.

“Oh, um. We just… we were friends, years ago. Truthfully, I never thought I would see him again. You look so different now, Ani.” You smiled sheepishly at him, heart skipping a beat at the dazzling smile he offered in return.

“Yet you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Well, some things have changed,” Lars butted in, much to your own annoyance. “She is to be married. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

“Oh, yes.” You held out your hand to show Anakin the ring. His smile deflated somewhat at the sight of it, and his congratulations sounded forced, but before you could think too much on that, Lars was suggesting lunch in the dining room and you were whisked away to eat and negotiate.

You sat at the end of the long dining table, to the right of Lars with Anakin across from you and Obi-Wan across from your fiancée. Obi-Wan and Lars did most of the talking while you and Anakin exchanged sheepish glances, only making brief eye contact before you would go back to staring down at your food. A few times, you attempted to make light conversation, but every time you did, Lars would ask you a question about something Obi-Wan had said, or give you a pointed look, or otherwise cut off your words to prevent you from speaking to the younger Jedi.

You sat in silence through most of the lunch, trying to pretend like the food you were eating didn’t taste like cardboard in your mouth. And eventually, the suns of the planet went down and its moons rose, and Lars announced that he would be leaving for the night on business. You hated how relieved that revelation made you, but couldn’t help the happiness that welled up inside you at the sight of his ship lifting off the planet’s surface.

With your fiancée’s oppressive presence gone, you made your way out to the garden to get some fresh air. The grass was cool and damp on your bare feet, but the sounds of the night and the cool air on your skin made you more relaxed than you had been in some time. The sound of footsteps behind you and a throat being cleared drew you out of your thoughts, however, causing you to turn towards the source. Standing in front of you was Anakin, looking down at you with a mix of emotion in his eyes. “So, Entello. He seems like a real nice guy.”

And in that moment, it was like Anakin had never even left. “Please. I can tell you don’t like him.”

Anakin laughed, and that smile… Force, that smile. “I’m sure he’s great once you get past his weird possessiveness. Besides, he makes you happy.” He sounded entirely unconvinced at this fact, and you looked away so he wouldn’t see the anger that flashed in your eyes. “He makes you happy,” he repeated the words again, and you weren’t sure who he was trying to convince. “Right?”

“Ani,” you looked back to him now, but found that the look in his eyes was too painful for you to bear. You focused, instead, on the curl of his hair. “I have everything I could want. Lars has power and money. And if I don’t already have something, I need only ask.”

After you had finished speaking, the silence was unbearable. “But are you happy?”

Something about this made you so upset that you finally looked into his eyes, feeling the burn of tears in your own. “Of course not, Anakin. I have never felt more hollow in my life.”

“This marriage wasn’t your choice, was it?”

You shook your head. “It was my father’s.”

“And you loved me, all those years ago, didn’t you?”

You wanted to be irritated at him for saying that; how dare he make such an assumption? But you couldn’t find it in yourself to be angry. Not when it was true. But it seemed like saying yes out loud would make this too real; would hurt too much. So you settled instead for, “you loved me, too.”

“More than I’ve ever loved anyone. And to see you again now, it’s… you’re…”

“I know.” You said. The silence that followed felt utterly unendurable. “I know, Anakin. I feel the same way. I thought I could get through it with Lars. Maybe even come to feel something towards him. In fact, I thought maybe I did feel something. But then I saw you again and I realized that I feel nothing towards that man, and I can’t help but wonder if -”

“If you still love me?” Anakin offered, the hope in his voice shattering what little restraint you still had. You took a step towards him and then faltered, hoping he would understand what you needed from him. Something heated and poignant flashed in his eyes “Y/N, if you don’t say no right now, I don’t know what I’ll -”

“I could never say no to you, Anakin.”

That was enough, it seemed, for him to close the gap between you. His arms settled firmly around your waist and his lips slotted perfectly with yours. In an instant, you had all but forgotten Lars’ name. The silver of the planet’s moons wove into his hair and illuminated your gown, weaving into the kiss and lighting up the garden like magic. You pulled him closer, trying desperately to make up for lost time and wishing intensely that you had told him how you felt when you had first met.

When you broke apart to breathe, he didn’t let you get far, keeping you firmly in his embrace. “I need you, Y/N. Please.” He murmured, leaning down to press small kisses to your neck. You nodded and took his hand, tugging him inside and towards your bedroom.

***

For the few moments between sleep and consciousness the next morning, you wondered blearily if your night with Anakin had been nothing but a dream. However, the finger-shaped bruises on your hips, thin sheen of sweat over your body, and the fact that you woke up naked in your twisted-up bedsheets confirmed your suspicions that the events of last night had all been completely real. For a moment, you smiled widely and allowed yourself to lay in that contented state, not wanting to face the real world.

However, you would have to get up eventually, so you kicked the blankets off and stood up, rolling your neck to get rid of the cricks. Anakin was gone, and with good reason; should you be caught together, it would mean huge trouble for the both of you.

You dressed quietly, feeling contemplative as you selected a dress with a high collar to hide the red marks Anakin had left on your neck. Once you had slipped your shoes on and clipped on your favorite necklace, you made your way into the dining hall, where Lars was eating breakfast alone. He smiled as you entered, obviously completely clueless as to what had happened the night before. “Good morning, darling.”

“Morning,” you replied kindly, seating yourself next to him. One of the servants hurried to bring you tea and a plate of breakfast, for which you thanked her. “How was your trip?”

“It went well,” he began, taking a sip of his own tea. Once he had taken a few more bites of food, he began explaining the business in depth. It seemed like the thought of asking how your night had gone never even crossed his mind, and you were more than alright with that.

As you ate, Obi-Wan joined you at the table, Anakin trailed behind him a half hour or so later. Lars and Obi-Wan were almost immediately enveloped in more discussion, but Anakin was quiet, sharing small glances and secret smiles with you over the table. Once the Jedi had finished eating, Lars invited them on a tour of the palace. Obi-Wan accepted graciously, probably just wanting to be kind. Anakin, however, scratched his neck and took a few steps in the direction of the ship they’d arrived in. “Actually, I need to go check in on R2. I’ll join you once I’m done, your highness.”

If Lars sensed the contempt in Anakin’s voice when he referred to the king by his official title, he didn’t let on. Instead, he smiled graciously. “Of course, Master Jedi. And you, dearest? Will you join Obi-Wan and I?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but then you caught Anakin’s eye as he walked away and understood that he wasn’t intending to check on his droid. “Actually, love, I’m feeling a bit tired,” you lied, resting a hand gently on Lars’ shoulder. “I didn’t sleep well last night. I think I’m just going to go lie down for a while. I’ll join you for lunch.”

“Alright,” Lars responded, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your lips. As he pulled away, you found yourself thinking that he had absolutely nothing on Anakin. “Have a good nap.”

You smiled and turned towards your room, waiting until Obi-Wan and Lars had headed off into another room before you turned on heel to head towards Anakin’s ship, practically sprinting out to see him. He turned away from the little blue and white droid he had come with and wrapped his arms firmly around you, kissing the top of your head. “I was hoping you would understand.”

“Of course,” you smiled, pulling back to rest a hand gently on his cheek. “I love you.”

Those words brought a dazzling smile to his lips, and in that moment, you forgot completely about how wrong your relationship was. Nevermind that he was a Jedi. Nevermind about Lars. All that mattered was the warmth between your bodies and how safe you felt in Anakin’s arms. “I love you, too.”

You pulled him in for a gentle kiss, trying to forget the way Lars had kissed you just minutes before. “I don’t know what I’ll do when you leave. When I’m married to… him.”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Anakin soothed you, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. “We have each other for now. That’s what matters.”

You nodded and leaned into your lover, breathing him in and trying to forget about everything else, if only for a little while.

***

Days passed, and you felt happier with Anakin than you ever had with Lars. He was understanding, funny, and you never felt the urge to back away from his touch. Sure, the relationship was wrong, but maybe the forbiddenness of it all was what made it so exciting.

However, the euphoria you felt with Anakin would inevitably end. He would have to leave, you would marry Lars, and the rest of the universe would go on, even if you knew that your universe would slowly but surely come to a quiet end.

You had plans to meet Anakin in the garden that day, knowing Lars would be attending to last minute business before the wedding. However, just as you were wrapping yourself in a simple, comfortable robe to go out and meet him with, one of your handmaiden came into your room and smiled happily. “Good afternoon, mistress,” she said, curtsying politely. “Your father is here to visit you; he is waiting in the dining hall for you.”

You frowned slightly, but thanked the handmaiden anyway. Well, it seemed your meeting with Anakin would just have to wait. You didn’t like putting off seeing him, considering it would be your last day together before you would be wed to a man you didn’t love, but your father knew you much better than Lars ever would, and would immediately suspect something was off if you didn’t go to meet him.

So you made your way into the dining hall and hugged him gently, trying not to pay too much attention to how frail he had become. “Hello, father.”

He smiled slightly and you helped him into a seat before sitting next to him, trying to act normal. You were itching to get to Anakin, however, and it must have showed, because after a few seconds of studying you critically he asked, “why are you so fidgety, my dear?”

“Hm? Oh.” Truthfully, you hadn’t even noticed that you were moving in your seat, twiddling your thumbs and bouncing your leg. “Um… must just be pre-wedding jitters, you know.”

Your father smiled understandingly and you breathed a silent sigh of relief, glad your excuse had worked. “Well, as of tomorrow those will be gone, I hope.”

You did your best to smile, but it was half-hearted at best. “Yes, I hope so, too.”

“Everything for the wedding is to your liking, I hope? Lars spent a lot of money on this, you know. It’s the biggest event of the year.”

At that, your insides twisted into a harsh knot and you thought you might be sick. So much money spent on you and you couldn’t even find it in yourself to be grateful for it. All you could think of was Anakin, sweet, loving Anakin, and the mistake you had made by not owning up to your feelings when you had first met him as a padawan. “Yes, father, everything is lovely.” You hoped he wouldn’t sense that you were lying through your teeth, but if he kept harping on this wedding something was bound to slip through.

“I knew you and Lars would get along once you got to know each other, Y/N. And aren’t you happy?”

You desperately wanted to tell him no, but at the moment, Lars himself chose to strut into the room, followed by Obi-Wan and Anakin. You made eye contact with Anakin immediately, your eyebrows creasing and your lips parting, hoping he would understand that you hadn’t meant to blow him off. Anakin simply looked between your father and you and shook his head, smiling that small, secret smile he saved just for you. You would’ve returned it, but Lars’ heavy hand settling on your shoulder drew you out of your mental conversation with the Jedi. “Good day, Sir Y/L/N. I hope the staff has been treating you kindly.”

“Yes, of course,” your father responded, but he seemed distracted now. He was looking at you with something odd in his eyes, and that look was enough to make you feel faint. “I need a word alone with my daughter, however.”

“Of course, sir. Master Kenobi and I need to finish up some of our business as it is. Master Skywalker will accompany us.” The way he said Anakin’s name sent a chill down your spine - it had the tone that perhaps he knew more than he let on about the nature of your relationship with Anakin. You didn’t have time to question it, however, as Lars led the way out of the dining hall and you were forced to face your father’s ire.

“Y/N, what is the nature of your relationship with Master Skywalker?” His voice, now, seemed entirely worn out. Run down with age and illness, yet still stern. He was still your father, and he would make that clear, even in his final days.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, looking carefully down at the table.

“Why do you lie to me? Oh, dearest - you are engaged. Your… fraternization with the Jedi must stop.”

You scoffed, trying your best to seem offended. “Fraternization?” You exclaimed, still looking down at the table, over at a wall, anywhere but your father. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“I am sick, not blind. Not stupid. Do not treat me as though you take me for some kind of fool, Y/N! I see how you look at him, and I know all too well!” His voice rose as he spoke, but then ended in a coughing fit. You felt sick to your stomach as he hacked violently into his arm, knowing you had been found out. “Please, Y/N, I want you to be happy.”

“I am not happy,” you replied, your voice cold even as you felt tears brimming in your eyes. “Lars had never brought me happiness. This union does not make me happy.”

“And a Jedi you knew for a month five years ago will?” Your father sounded incredulous, and without thinking, you blurted out something you might live to regret.

“Yes! He will! He does! We make each other happy!”

“Child, I want this sneaking around to end. He is breaking his own code, need I remind you. Nothing good will ever come of this relationship. End it. Today.”

“Absolutely not!”

In a moment of fury, your father stood up, his eyes blazing with rage. “End it, or your husband will have the Jedi killed!”

Fear, hatred, and anguish boiled in your blood, so much that you found yourself fleeing the room, wiping pitifully at the tears that spilled down your cheeks. You knew you had to do it. It was no good for anyone, and you had no doubt that Lars would order Anakin’s death in an instant. You had to protect him, even if he didn’t understand. Even if it broke your heart.

You ran to the garden, throwing yourself onto one of the benches and looking dejectedly at the spot where you and Anakin had kissed. That felt like a lifetime ago.

It seemed like eternities passed before Anakin’s footsteps alerted you to his presence. You looked up, sniffling and wiping the last of the tears off your cheeks. “Y/N? What’s going on?” At the sight of you crying, Anakin hurried to your side and dropped to his knees in front of you, drawing one of your hands into both of his. However, you drew your hand away and looked at a flower behind him, thinking that nothing had a right to be that beautiful when your heart was shattered against the pavement.

“Leave, Anakin,” the words made your heart ache, but the look on his face made you feel like your chest would cave in. “I am to be married tomorrow. There is… there is nothing here for you. For us. There is no us. I am to be the queen of this planet, married to a king that I love.”

“You don’t mean that. You… can’t mean that. You don’t love him. You told me you don’t love him!”

“Of course I love him!” You bolted up from the bench, feeling like a caged animal, and walked over to the flower you’d been staring at. It was a rose of beautiful red, with more thorns than you’d seen before. “He has everything I could ever want. And you have nothing. You have no money, no power... “ your jaw clenched and you forced yourself to finish your sentence, every word feeling like a punch to the gut. “You don’t even have me.”

“If you don’t love me, fine. I can’t force you to… to want me. But I won’t believe it until you really tell me. I can’t believe these days have been a lie, Y/N, I can’t, I just -”

The increasing panic and desperation in his voice snapped something within you. Didn’t he understand? If you gave in now he would be killed! You couldn’t let him die. You had to end it. Your father’s words echoed in your mind as you turned on heel, cutting off whatever rambling sentence he’d been in the middle of, and stalked over to him. You pushed at his chest, forcing down the tears in your eyes, and looked right at him. Never had seeing the depth of Anakin’s eyes been so painful. “I don’t love you! I never have! Leave! Never come back here!”

Anakin stumbled backwards, almost falling onto the bench. You did the same, taken aback at your outburst, your hands clutching at the simple robe you wore. The pain in his eyes was worse than anything you’d ever seen, and the pain in your heart was worse than anything you’d ever felt. “Well I won’t pretend I don’t love you!” His voice was rough and hoarse, and he was being so loud you were worried he might draw the attention of a staff member or, worse, Lars himself, but it was just you two in the garden. “I do! I always have! And I always -” he cut off abruptly, his adam’s apple working harshly as his chest heaved with effort. “I always will.”

It took everything in you not to reach out for him as he stormed past you, to grab his sleeve and beg him not to go. Instead, you turned your head away from him and stayed as stone-cold as you could until you heard the click of the door closing behind him, signalling the fact that you were alone with the flowers and the setting sun.

Not knowing what to do with yourself, you whipped around and ripped the flowers off their stems, feeling thorns pricking at your palms but only distantly registering the pain. It was only when you had torn the plant into ruins that you sunk to the ground, crying, hands bloodied, surrounded by broken flowers and the blood red glow of the setting sun.

***

You spent the day of your wedding feeling nothing but dread. Your handmaidens had absolutely lost their minds at the sight of your hands, causing you to mumble some lame excuse and allow them to fuss over you. Now, the wounds from your run-in with the rose bush had been mostly healed, but the wounds from your broken heart had only just begun to open.

Now, you stood with your father, waiting to make your big entrance. He didn’t comment on the state of your hands, or the fact that you had been absolutely silent all day, seemingly content with the fact that you were here and that you were going through with the wedding. Stars, why were you going through with the wedding?

You heard the music and the doors opened, cueing everyone in the congregation to rise. Lars was already at the altar, looking handsome in a well-tailored suit with his hair gelled back. You felt sick.

Your father kissed you on the cheek as he lifted your veil and handed you off to your fiancée, who took your hands firmly and offered you a smile that you could only sort of return. The minister began the wedding, and Lars began his vows. Once he had finished, you repeated yours after him, sounding as if you were reading them from a teleprompter. All you could think of was Anakin - Anakin’s scent, his hands on you, the warmth when he held you, the pain in his eyes when you broke his heart - God, Y/N, what are you doing?

Distantly, you heard Lars say “I do”, and then the minister asked if you would take him to be your husband. All you could hear was Anakin’s voice, the last words he had said to you, “and I always will,” over and over, until you couldn’t take it. “I’m sorry,” you said. For a moment, Lars’ eyes clouded with confusion, and then they shone with blinding clarity as you took off your ring and set it firmly in his hand. It felt like some invisible weight had been lifted. You looked towards your father, pain and confusion clear on his face. “Forgive me,” you pleaded, and then you ran. The congregation was filled with muttering and gasps, but all you could think of was getting out. Out of the cathedral, out of the palace. You needed Anakin. He clouded your thoughts until finally, you saw the ship he had arrived in, oh, thank the stars he hadn’t left. You laughed gleefully as you ran through the open landing field towards it, hair flying carelessly behind you, shoes kicked off somewhere along the way and feet covered in mud.

Anakin was helping Obi-Wan carry boxes onto their ship, and it was R2 that noticed you first. His frantic beeps carried across the field even to you, and then you saw Anakin. All that registered in your mind was that you needed to be with him, now, five minutes ago, five years ago.

He was running towards you, you realized as the gap closed between you, and then you collided so hard it practically knocked the wind out of you. You didn’t care. All that mattered was his warm, firm arms lifting you, spinning you around, the rightness of his lips on yours. “I lied,” you mumbled against his mouth, “everything I said last night was a lie. I love you. Only you. Always you.”

He grinned, resting his forehead against yours as your feet made contact with the ground again. “I know, I know. I love you, too. Forever.”

#star wars imagines #star wars imagine #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader

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sage-nebula · 8 years ago

Note

I feel it may be painful, but I'm sending you a brotp: Alan and Sycamore with "You don't have to stay".

The days immediately following the Flare crisis blended together in afrenzied smoothie of reconstruction and damage reports. Reconstruction wasstill ongoing at various sites; much of Lumiose City had been devastated by therampaging roots and Zygarde battle, and League officials were still cleaning upthe debris and shrapnel that covered the site of the battle against Lysandre’srampaging Megalith. For his part, Augustine had helped where he could. He hadprovided as much information as he was able between what Steven Stone had toldhim and what he himself had witnessed, but when it came to the actualreconstruction there wasn’t very much he could do. His inexperience when itcame to construction aside, there were other areas he felt it far moreimportant to give his attention to.

But with everything going on, the days and events in them had passed ina snap---and it was for this reason that he felt surprised (albeit pleasantlyso) when he saw Diantha standing in the lab’s foyer after Sophie told him hehad a visitor waiting for him there. She was dressed in a sharp pantsuit, no doubtbecause (as Champion) she had been working constantly for the past few days,but although Augustine could see weariness in her eyes when she looked to him,she still offered a pleasant smile in return for his warm grin.

“Diantha! Wonderful to see you,” he said, and in a play at the“sophisticated” courtesies they had always exchanged for fun, he placed a kissagainst her knuckles when she held out her hand for him to shake. Despite thefatigue that plagued her, she chuckled. “To what do I owe this pleasure? I can’timagine you have a lot of time to spare.”

“No, I don’t,” she said, and her smile faded in a small sigh. Augustinefelt his heart drop a fraction in response. “And I am here on business,actually. Is there somewhere we could talk?”

“Of course,” Augustine said, and he gestured down the hall toward thekitchen and dining area as he stepped aside to allow her to pass him. Dianthatook the gesture graciously, and once he stepped into pace just behind her he asked, “Would you care for something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”

“No, thank you. As much as I would love to indulge, I really don’t havevery much time to spare.”

At that time in the afternoon, the kitchen, dining area, and livingroom were all thankfully empty. Cosette was outside, administering vitamins andmedicine to the lab’s pokémon as needed, and Sophie and Alan were both in theresearch room, translating some ancient tablets pertaining to mega evolutionthat had been discovered days before the crisis. Manon, too, was out; she hadbegun the day by going over the mega evolution tablets with Sophie and Alan,but her attention had waned quickly, and when Serena and the others had droppedby to extend an invitation to go hang out with them, she had accepted. (Theinvitation had been extended to Alan as well, but he had declined despiteurging Manon to go and enjoy herself.) As a result, Augustine and Diantha hadthe room to themselves for the time being, and after he pulled out a chair atthe table for Diantha to take a seat, Augustine grabbed a chair for himselfacross from her.

“So,” Augustine said as he took a seat, “what can I help you with?”

Diantha offered another small smile, but it was tight and didn’t reachher eyes, and after a second her gaze dropped down to her hands.

“I suppose it won’t do any good to beat around the bush, so I’ll getright to it,” she said. “I’m here to talk about Alan.”

Augustine’s heart stalled for a moment before it resumed beating at afaster kip than before. “What about Alan?”

Diantha looked back up at him, her eyes touched with pity even as sheforced another small smile. “I think you know.”

There hadn’t been very much time in the days following the Flare crisisfor Augustine and Alan to talk about everything that had happened, but untilthat moment Augustine had felt that it was for the best. Immediately followingthe crisis Alan had gone (unwillingly) to the hospital to have his injuriestreated, while Lizardon did the same at the Pokémon Center. Once they were bothpatched up they had returned to the lab, and while Alan had tried toimmediately resume work, Augustine had (thus far) managed to keep him away fromextensive manual labor. That wasn’t to say that Alan was fine, though;however much he insisted he was, Augustine didn’t miss the way he pushed foodaround on his plate instead of actually eating it, or the way he no longeroffered his opinion or asked questions about things unless directly asked. Hedidn’t miss, either, the way Alan had almost called him “sir” once after agreeing to a task---didn’t miss the way Alan had caughthimself on the first syllable at the same moment that Augustine’s own heartfroze, right before quickly ducking out of the room. Alan insisted he was fine,but Augustine knew that to be a lie. He had just thought---had hoped---thatthey would have time to talk about it as things calmed down, and that Alan would be able to ease back into life at the lab once he was given time to rest and recuperate.

But now, with Diantha visiting him on “official business” to talk aboutAlan, Augustine had a dreadful feeling in his shoulders that told him theirtime was up.

“I think I do, too,” he told her, “but I’m going to hope against hopeand ask you to elaborate anyway.”

Diantha sighed again, light and not at all happy. “Very well. Thepolice have been conducting investigations into the remainder of Team Flare.They’ve rounded up a number of Flare agents right here in Lumiose, but asidefrom Malva---who turned herself in after the battle with the Megalith---they’vebeen unable to identify any other high-ranking Flare officers. Everyone they’vefound so far has been ranked no higher than a grunt within the organization,and according to all testimony none of them ever spoke more than a handful ofwords to Lysandre, much less had insight into any of Flare’s grander schemes orplans.”

“And the police believe Alan did?” Augustine asked, and despite hisyears-long friendship with Diantha, he was unable to keep the hard edge fromhis voice.

Fortunately, Diantha didn’t seem to take offense. “They know he was oneof Lysandre’s top operatives. Malva confirmed in her testimony that Alan hadworked for Lysandre, and files that she turned over on a flash drive confirmedthat Lysandre had far more interest in and contact with Alan than he did any ofthe other Flare operatives they’ve arrested so far, aside from Malva herself.Whether or not Alan knew of any of the details of Lysandre’s plans is unclearto them at the moment, but . . .” Diantha smiled wryly. “That’s precisely whythey want his testimony.”

“He didn’t,” Augustine said, and though he kept his voice even, he hadto struggle to do so. “He didn’t know anything. Lysandre used him the entiretime. He---”

Diantha held up one hand, and Augustine closed his mouth.

“I know,” she said. “I believe in his innocence. I was there at theLeague that day, remember? I saw his face when the roots began destroying thestadium. He had no idea any of that was coming. Someone who was involved inthat incident---someone who helped cause it to happen---wouldn’t have looked asshocked and upset as he did.”

“Then---”

“But the police still want testimony. More specifically, they stillwant to question him about his involvement with Lysandre, Flare, and all of theevents that unfolded. And as much as I believe in Alan’s innocence, my wordwill only go so far. If I prevent them from questioning him, all that’s goingto do is make him look more suspicious. Not to mention, particularlyconsidering Malva’s involvement, my refusal to let Alan be questioned wouldthrow me under suspicion as well. Malvais---or was, I suppose, depending onhow her trial goes---one of my Elite, after all. For one of my own Elite to beinvolved, and then for me to prevent them from questioning one of Lysandre’sknown operatives?” Diantha shook her head. “‘Suspicious’ would be the gentlestword to describe how that would look.”

“I understand, and I wouldn’t ask you to put yourself in jeopardy, but. . .” Augustine scrubbed his hands down his face, his elbows on the table,before he said quietly, “I just don’t believe that a police interrogation is inAlan’s best interests right now. He’s doing the best he can, but . . .”

“I know,” Diantha said, and for her part she did look genuinelysympathetic. “But unfortunately, there isn’t a way to avoid it at this point.The police aren’t getting any answers from the grunts, the citizens are stillon edge after everything that happened, and at this point if the police chiefisn’t out for blood, the head detective certainly is. They’re desperate forprogress.”

“And they’re willing to throw anyone they can under the bus to get it?”

“No---well, yes. Perhaps.” This time Diantha’s smile was a little fiercerthan before, and Augustine felt his heart lift, tasting at the hope on the air.“But I’m not about to let them.”

“But if you interfere, won’t that cause suspicion?”

“If I refuse to allow them to interrogate him, yes. But that doesn’tmean I’m powerless.” Diantha’s smile grew as she explained, “To begin with, theoriginal plan was for the head detective to bring a few officers here with himthis afternoon to formally take Alan into custody. I found out about thislittle plan of theirs moments before they carried it out, and judging from thelook on your face, I think I made the right decision in stopping them.”

Despite himself---and the situation, really---Augustine huffed a laugh.“Yes. Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Diantha said. “Second, I moved the interrogation timeto tomorrow morning, down at the station. They won’t send officers to retrieve him,but Alan will be expected to be there at nine a.m. sharp. If he isn’t, they will send someone to arrest him, and Iwon’t be able to prevent it then. So do make sure he’s there, won’t you?”

As much as he wanted to say ‘no,’ Augustine knew---even without thesomewhat pleading note in Diantha’s voice and eyes---that he couldn’t. “I cando that.”

“Thank you,” Diantha said. “Finally, although the only interrogation Iwas required to sit on was Malva’s, I am technically allowed to participate inany interrogation that I choose---and I’ve chosen to sit in on this one. Truthbe told, neither the police chief nor the head detective were very pleasedabout it, but . . .” Diantha shrugged. “I am the Champion. My word overrulesthem, at least when it comes to my own duties. There isn’t very much they cando about it.” She paused, and then said gently, “I’ll make sure they treat himfairly, Augustine. You have my word on that. As much as they may be out forblood, they won’t get it, least of all from him.”

Augustine reached across the table to take her hands in his, and gavethem a gentle, grateful squeeze. “Thank you.”

She smiled, warm but fleeting, and said, “Any time. But now, with that unpleasantnews delivered, I really must be going. A Champion’s work rarely ends, least ofall in the midst of crisis reconstruction.” Diantha released Augustine’s hands,and together they rose from the table, Diantha readjusting the strap of her bagon her shoulder.

“Is there anything I can help with?” Augustine asked, and he placed hishand briefly on her shoulder as he walked her to the door. “Particularly withthe help you’re giving Alan, if there’s anything I can do---”

“No, no. This isn’t anything I’m not capable of handling. And don’tthink of what I’m doing as ‘help,’ necessarily. It’s a Champion’s duty to makesure their people aren’t mistreated, after all. Ensuring that the police aren’table to scapegoat one of my citizens isn’t a special favor; it’s my job. And ifthat citizen just so happens to be the child of a dear friend of mine . . .”Diantha shrugged, but there was a note of cheek in her tone that betrayed herblasé gesture. “Well, all the better.”

Augustine smiled. “Well, I appreciate it nonetheless. Take care,Diantha. We’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Diantha nodded and said, “See you tomorrow,” before she stepped throughthe door.

As much as the knowledge that Diantha would be present for theinterrogation had filled him with a spot of hope, the moment the door shutbehind her it brought every fear and drop of dead crashing back down into hisgut. It was great that Diantha would be there---wonderful, really, especiallyconsidering her words on how the police were desperate for any high-rankingFlare official they could find to try and appease the public. Despite the factthat Alan wasn’t a high-ranking anything withinFlare, Augustine had no doubt they would spin the story to say as much if givenhalf the chance. The fact that Diantha wasn’t going to let it get that far wasa great relief.

But that didn’t mean that the interrogation was going to be easy. Eventhough Diantha was going to be there to make sure they didn’t frame Alan as amonster within the first five minutes, there was still the matter of Alan’s ownemotional and mental state. Augustine still remembered vividly how Alan hadlooked during the League, both during his matches and when they had finallybeen able to speak the night before his match with Ash. Alan had looked tiredand depressed then, yet compared to how he looked nowadays when he wasn’t purposefully trying to appear “fine,” he had practically looked healthy. It was no wonder, really; after everything that had happened, Augustine would have been more shocked if Alan’s emotional and mental well-being hadn’t taken more severe hits following the crisis. But whether or not Alan’s emotional state was surprising wasn’t the issue. The issue was that he was struggling at all. And given that he was, the fact that he was going to be interrogated by a detective that was determined to find someone to scapegoat for the crisis was . . .

Diantha would be there. She would stop them from scapegoating Alan.Augustine felt confident about that, but all the same . . .

He took a deep breath in a futile effort to dispel the anxiety in hisgut, and then turned toward the research room.

Whatever would unfold during the interrogation would unfold during theinterrogation. For now, he had to tell Alan what was going on.

- - -

Alan took the news remarkably well, though in retrospect, Augustinesupposed that fact shouldn’t have surprised him.

Augustine had pulled him briefly out of the research room to tell himin private, and when he had, Alan had looked surprised for only a fraction of asecond before his expression locked down again. It wasn’t that he was stoic,Augustine thought, so much as it was that he was resigned. He had said, “Oh. Okay,” before asking whether or not heshould head down to the police station right then, and when Augustine had saidthat the interrogation was set for nine the next morning, he had simply said, “Okay”again.

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Augustine had told him. “Dianthawill be there, and you haven’t done anything wrong. She’ll make sure that---”

“I’ve done a lot of wrong things,” Alan had said, and then---realizingthat he had interrupted---had quickly added, “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, but no, you haven’t,” Augustine had said.“What happened wasn’t your fault, Alan, and they’ll see that. They have to.”

Alan hadn’t responded, save for a noncommittal hum, but after a momenthe had said, “Can I . . .” He had cleared his throat, and then asked, “Should Ibring Lizardon?”

“It can’t hurt, though you’ll probably need to tell them you have himwith you when you arrive. Unfortunately, when it comes to legal matters pokémonare sometimes still seen as weapons,” Augustine had said, and Alan had gloweredat the floor.

“Lizardon is not a weapon,” he had muttered.

“I know,” Augustine had said, and he had placed his hand on Alan’s shoulder,squeezing it bracingly.

They had returned to the research room, then, to continue thetranslation and analysis work they had still had to do, and they didn’t speakof the upcoming interrogation again for the rest of the night. The evening hadpassed remarkably quickly; Alan had gone out for a night flight on Lizardonafter supper, and he took a shower and went to bed shortly after he came home.Augustine went to bed not long after that, though he was unable to fall asleepfor a long while, and he wondered if Alan was lying awake, too.

The next morning came too soon for Augustine’s liking, yet although hedidn’t feel very much like eating himself, he still sat both himself and Alandown for a breakfast of coffee and croissants before they left for the policestation. When Augustine said that it was time to go, Manon had asked if shecould come. Augustine was fairly certain she didn’t know where they wereheaded; he hadn’t told her, and as far as he was aware Alan hadn’t, either. Yetbefore he could say anything, Alan said that he had something important that heneeded to do, and that Augustine was just giving him a ride, but that he wouldbe back later.

“Well, okay, but can I come?” Manon had pressed.

“No,” Alan had said bluntly.

Manon had puffed out her cheeks, Hari-san imitating her expression fromher shoulder. “Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t have anything to do with you,” Alan had said, buthe had seemed to regret it the second the words were out of his mouth. Manon’sexpression had fallen, Hari-san’s spines drooping, and Alan had barelyconcealed a wince before he looked away. “And it’s boring and dangerous and youwouldn’t like it, anyway. And Bonnie said she and Clemont wanted your helpredecorating the Gym today.”

“Really?” Manon had said, and she had sounded doubtful, but Alan hadsmiled a little as he had looked back at her.

“Really, so you should go help them. I know you’ll do a great job.”

That had seemed to mollify her, at least a little, and theyhad left after that (though as they walked out to the car, Augustine had madesure to send a text message to Meyer to let Bonnie and Clemont know that Manonwas coming by to help, just so that Bonnie’s and Clemont’s confusion wouldn’tlead to Manon’s feelings being hurt again by mistake). Alan was silent on thetrip down to the station, staring out of the passenger side window, but whenthey arrived Augustine saw him swallow hard, his fist clenched tightly in hislap.

At the very least, Augustine could say that Alan wasn’t alone infeeling nervous.

They arrived at nine a.m. sharp, just as Augustine had promised, butDiantha wasn’t present in the bullpen when they walked in. There were variousofficers milling about, some leaning over desks and others carrying filesacross the floor, but the moment Augustine and Alan walked in the police chief(noticeable from the badge he had pinned to his chest) and a detective strodetoward them, their expressions stony. Augustine put his hand on Alan’s back forsupport.

“Professor Sycamore,” the police chief said as he neared, and he noddedonce. Augustine returned the courtesy. “Is this the boy?”

“This is Alan, yes,” Augustine said.

The detective’s eyes were trained on Alan, and he held out his hand,palm up. “Your License, please,” he said. His tone was too cold for the ‘please’to be much of a pleasantry. Alan silently pulled his wallet from his pocket andslipped his License out of it, handing it over without a word. The detectivestudied it for a moment, and then---seemingly satisfied---handed it back. “Areyou armed?”

“No,” Alan said, and even with the situation being what it was,Augustine could hear the defiance in his voice. The police chief and detective seemed to hear it as well, given the look they exchanged, and beforeeither of them could do anything, Augustine said:

“He does have his charizard with him, but he isn’t dangerous. He keepshis charizard’s pokéball in his right pocket.”

The detective gave Alan a hard look. “Lying on the first question doesn’tget you off to a good start, kid.”

“I didn’t lie,” Alan said flatly. “I’m not armed, because Lizardon isn’ta weapon.”

“Being a smart-ass doesn’t help your case, either,” the detective said,and his eyes narrowed as he stared Alan down.

Alan opened his mouth to reply---likely to say something along thelines of how he wasn’t being a smart-ass, he was just being honest, ifAugustine knew him (and he did)---but before he could, Augustine cut acrosshim. “Well, there isn’t much of a case to begin with, is there? This is just aquick questioning session, after all.”

The detective looked over to Augustine at last, but his glance wasfleeting before he looked back to Alan. “Quick. Sure. Yeah,” he said. He leanedforward and patted Alan’s pockets down, and once he was sure that Alan hadnothing beyond Lizardon’s pokéball on him, said, “You said your pokémon’s acharizard, right?”

“Yes,” Alan said.

“Take a couple of the lycanroc with you,” the police chief said, andthough Augustine was sure that it was meant to be an undertone to the headdetective, he caught it and frowned all the same. Judging from the way Alan’seyes narrowed, Augustine was sure that hehad heard it, as well. “Just in case.”

“Will do,” the detective said, and then grabbed Alan by his upper arm. “Allright, kid, come with me. Time to get this show on the road.”

Alan jerked, as if to pull out of the detective’s grip, yet thoughtbetter of it in the next second and relaxed (a fraction, at least---enough towalk along with the detective). That, Augustine thought, was probably for thebest, even if he had to fight against his owninstincts to tell the detective to get his hands off Alan. But with his owninstincts tampered down, what Augustine said instead was, “I’ll be right outhere, Alan. Good luck.”

Alan stopped, bringing the detective to a halt with him, and thenlooked back. He was frowning as he said, “This could take a while. You don’t have tostay.”

Augustine smiled, and clasped his hands behind his back. “It doesn’tmatter to me how long it takes. I have some work out in the car that can keepme occupied. I want to stay.”

Alan stared at Augustine, his eyes wide and his mouth open a little, asif Augustine had just spoken to him in a different language. But before he hada chance to question it, or even recover from the apparent shock Augustine’sstatement had caused him, the detective gave him a rough little jerk toward theinterrogation room, and he was forced to turn back and keep walking. Onceagain, Augustine swallowed down an urge to tell the detective to at least be gentle, and he prayed that theinterrogation would be over more quickly than the detective seemed to think itwould be.

“Dian---Champion Diantha is sitting in on the interrogation, isn’t she?”he asked the police chief. “That is what I was told, anyway.”

“Yes. She’s already in the interrogation chamber,” the police chiefsaid, and Augustine breathed a sigh of relief. The police chief gave him ashrewd look. “It really is likely to take hours---maybe even a day. We’ll giveyou a call when we’re done; you don’t have to stick around.”

“I meant what I said. I’m staying,” Augustine said, and he gave afierce smile of his own in response to the grimace on the police chief’sface. “Is there somewhere I can wait?”

The police chief nodded to a row of chairs by the door before he turnedback toward his office. “Knock yourself out.”

“Thank you,” Augustine said, though the police chief didn’t show anysign of having heard him.

Though Augustine hadn’t lied when he said he had brought some things towork on, he didn’t immediately leave to go get them. Instead, he walked overand took a seat in the waiting area, drummed his fingers on his knees for amoment, and then pulled his pokégear from his pocket so that he could callMeyer.

It was only 9:10 in the morning, but Augustine could already tell itwas going to be a long night.

#somegiantmess #professor sycamore #champion diantha #trainer alan #trainer alain #lab family #angst drabble meme #this is my first time EVER writing Diantha so #hopefully that was OK #this writer's block is NOT being kind to me so hopefully the quality is OK as well #(like the ideas are there it's just - the quality)#(i'm having such fits with the quality so)#(hopefully this is good sadfsafda)#fic fix

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