#i hope you enjoy some early morning spice with our boy prince

[alch3mic]

Hello!! I love!! Your writing and art so much! If you have time and if it's okay, could we get,,, a spicy prince,,? //7//💦

“A magic spell?”

“MHM! ONE THAT WILL MAKE YOU FEEL ALL BETTER!”

A quiet moment passed as you stared down Prince with a furrowed brow, taking in his sweet smile and gentle eyelights while his thumb gently ghosted around the edge of your chin. It was still early in the morning, yet he already had his charms turned up all the way to eleven as you sat at a small table near the balcony.

Eggs, bacon, pastries, and a fine selection of drinks were all laid out for you two to share, with your ever favorite coffee also making it’s grand appearance to fight away the slumber still gnawing away at your insides. 

Too bad the world seemed out to get you today as you managed to burn your lip on the piping hot liquid, capturing your boyfriend’s attention as you sucked in a painful breath before setting your cup down. Now he was turned to you, his gaze just as tender as his touch as he seemed to committee all of your features to memory, from your slightly frazzled hair to the way you fidgeted a bit when his thumb brushed past your slightly burned lip.

You could spot it right away though. 

That something. 

It lingered in the very edge of his eyesocket and creeped in at the edge of his perfectly charming smile, hanging on to his every word as he said he knew ‘just the thing’ to make you feel all better.

That’s exactly why you knew he was...

“....Suspicious.”

“HUH? ME?” he asked, his expression not even faltering as he removed his hand from your chin to place over his chest. “AH, YOU WOUND ME MY DEAR! AS IF I DON’T ONLY HAVE THE BEST INTENTIONS FOR MY BELOVED!”

“Ahuh,” you said, crossing your arms, now eyeing him even more warily. “I’m vaguely recalling you said that last time too.”

“HMM?” he hummed playfully, feigning ignorance for a moment as he looked thoughtful. “YOU COULDN'T POSSIBLY REFERRING TO WHEN YOU AND I-”

“Yes!” you interrupted him, feeling your face flare up as you attempted to swat at him. “That! That thing! The thing we were both there for so there’s no reason to say it aloud!”

Oh sometimes you really hated how cute this skeleton was, especially as he laughed while lightly grabbing your wrist, bringing your hand closer to his face to gently pepper with kisses.

“I’M NOT TEASING YOU THIS TIME,” he said lowly, pressing another kiss to your knuckles. “PROMISE.”

“Bullshit,” you returned bluntly, receiving a small sputter and much more genuine wheeze from Prince.

“OOF! OUCH! YOU’RE SO HARSH, ANGEL!” he laughed, “WHAT? DON’T YOU TRUST M-”

“I do.”

....

Another quiet moment took hold over you both. That ever charming smile always present on your loving boyfriend’s face disappeared to a small look of surprise at your lack of hesitance in answering that. He studied you again, only this time with a certain carefulness that hung in his eyestocket, seeming to wait for.. something.

Maybe for you to take that statement back?

Well, you weren’t. It was true.

“I do trust you,” you said firmly, taking your hand from his grasp and placing it on his cheek. 

He softened at your touch, leaning into your hand for a moment as you smiled at him.... before you firmly pinched his surprisingly soft cheek.

“..Which is exactly why I know you are up to something.”

“MWEHEHEH, I GUESS THERE’S NO POINT IN HIDING IT HUH?” he chuckled as you let go of his cheek. “..ANY CHANCE I COULD STILL GET YOU TO PLAY ALONG THOUGH? PROMISE IT’S WORTH YOUR WHILE.”

“My better judgement tells me I shouldn’t,” you mumbled, once again crossing your arms as he deflated a little. “..but I just can’t seem to resist that cute face of yours, so fine.”

His face instantly lit up again as he scooted just a bit closer.

“THEN MY DEAR, WOULD YOU CLOSE YOUR EYES FOR ME?”

You shot you cute skeleton one more suspicious glance before complying and closing your eyes. 

“NOW,” he hummed softly, “THIS SPELL ONLY WORKS IF YOU MEAN IT, SO BE SURE TO SPEAK FROM THE SOUL, OKAY?”

“Okay.”

“THEN REPEAT AFTER ME...”

His fingers gently brushed away some of your hair from your face, making you scrunch a bit as you waited for his instructions.

“I...” he began.

“I..” you repeated.

“...LOVE YOU.”

You barely managed to swallow back a giggle as a smile took hold on your face.

“Love you!”

As soon as those words left your mouth, his kissed you. 

It was so soft and sweet it hardly irritated your hurt lip, and instead you found yourself leaning into it some more before he pulled away.

“...Well, I do appreciate the kiss but I didn’t really help my lip feel better,” you said, peeking an eye open at him.

“THAT’S BECAUSE THERE’S ONE MORE STEP MY DEAR! YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT THESE MORE COMPLICATED SPELLS REQUIRE MULTIPLE STEPS,” he smiled, booping your nose. “NOW PLEASE KEEP YOUR EYES CLOSED.

“Okay, okay.” you chuckled before closing your eyes again.

“NOW REPEAT AFTER ME!”

“Mhm..”

“PLEASE..”

“Please..”

“TAKE A BITE!”

“Take... a... wha-AHH!”

You didn’t get a chance to finish as Prince leaned in close, tickling your ear with a small puff of cool air that sent goosebumps trailing all over your arms. In an instant your eyes flew open as you attempted to scrunch yourself up defensively.

“Oh, you better no-OW!” 

You squawked as he bit on to your earlobe with his fangs before laughing, blowing another puff of cool air into your ear.

“Ah! I knew it! I knew you were up to-GYAH!” you shouted as he bit down again. “You scoundrel!”

“BUT YOUR LIP DOESN’T HURT ANYMORE, DOES IT?”

“That’s not the point you jerk!” you laughed, lightly hitting his shoulder as he placed a kiss on your neck.

“SURE IT IS,” he hummed lightly. “WITH A GOOD ENOUGH DISTRACTION, YOU’LL FORGET ABOUT YOUR LIP IN NO TIME!”

“We just got out of bed!” you cried, feeling the heat rise up in your face again” I wanted to eat my breakfast!”

“OH, I’M MUCH MORE INTERESTED IN EATING SOMETHING ELSE RIGHT NOW,” he growled.

“Oh my god, don’t you dare bite me again you basta-OW!”

You did get to eat your breakfast at least... eventually.

[semete-ningen-rashiku]

The Happy Prince

High above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy Prince.  He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine gold, for eyes he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed on his sword-hilt.

He was very much admired indeed.  “He is as beautiful as a weathercock,” remarked one of the Town Councillors who wished to gain a reputation for having artistic tastes; “only not quite so useful,” he added, fearing lest people should think him unpractical, which he really was not.

“Why can’t you be like the Happy Prince?” asked a sensible mother of her little boy who was crying for the moon.  “The Happy Prince never dreams of crying for anything.”

“I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy,” muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue.

“He looks just like an angel,” said the Charity Children as they came out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks and their clean white pinafores.

“How do you know?” said the Mathematical Master, “you have never seen one.”

“Ah! but we have, in our dreams,” answered the children; and the Mathematical Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did not approve of children dreaming.

One night there flew over the city a little Swallow.  His friends had gone away to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for he was in love with the most beautiful Reed.  He had met her early in the spring as he was flying down the river after a big yellow moth, and had been so attracted by her slender waist that he had stopped to talk to her.

“Shall I love you?” said the Swallow, who liked to come to the point at once, and the Reed made him a low bow.  So he flew round and round her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver ripples.  This was his courtship, and it lasted all through the summer.

“It is a ridiculous attachment,” twittered the other Swallows; “she has no money, and far too many relations”; and indeed the river was quite full of Reeds.  Then, when the autumn came they all flew away.

After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to tire of his lady-love.  “She has no conversation,” he said, “and I am afraid that she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind.”  And certainly, whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful curtseys.  “I admit that she is domestic,” he continued, “but I love travelling, and my wife, consequently, should love travelling also.”

“Will you come away with me?” he said finally to her; but the Reed shook her head, she was so attached to her home.

“You have been trifling with me,” he cried.  “I am off to the Pyramids.  Good-bye!” and he flew away.

All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived at the city.  “Where shall I put up?” he said; “I hope the town has made preparations.”

Then he saw the statue on the tall column.

“I will put up there,” he cried; “it is a fine position, with plenty of fresh air.”  So he alighted just between the feet of the Happy Prince.

“I have a golden bedroom,” he said softly to himself as he looked round, and he prepared to go to sleep; but just as he was putting his head under his wing a large drop of water fell on him.  “What a curious thing!” he cried; “there is not a single cloud in the sky, the stars are quite clear and bright, and yet it is raining.  The climate in the north of Europe is really dreadful.  The Reed used to like the rain, but that was merely her selfishness.”

Then another drop fell.

“What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?” he said; “I must look for a good chimney-pot,” and he determined to fly away.

But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he looked up, and saw—Ah! what did he see?

The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, and tears were running down his golden cheeks.  His face was so beautiful in the moonlight that the little Swallow was filled with pity.

“Who are you?” he said.

“I am the Happy Prince.”

“Why are you weeping then?” asked the Swallow; “you have quite drenched me.”

“When I was alive and had a human heart,” answered the statue, “I did not know what tears were, for I lived in the Palace of Sans-Souci, where sorrow is not allowed to enter.  In the daytime I played with my companions in the garden, and in the evening I led the dance in the Great Hall.  Round the garden ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared to ask what lay beyond it, everything about me was so beautiful.  My courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was, if pleasure be happiness.  So I lived, and so I died.  And now that I am dead they have set me up here so high that I can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my city, and though my heart is made of lead yet I cannot chose but weep.”

“What! is he not solid gold?” said the Swallow to himself.  He was too polite to make any personal remarks out loud.

“Far away,” continued the statue in a low musical voice, “far away in a little street there is a poor house.  One of the windows is open, and through it I can see a woman seated at a table.  Her face is thin and worn, and she has coarse, red hands, all pricked by the needle, for she is a seamstress.  She is embroidering passion-flowers on a satin gown for the loveliest of the Queen’s maids-of-honour to wear at the next Court-ball.  In a bed in the corner of the room her little boy is lying ill.  He has a fever, and is asking for oranges.  His mother has nothing to give him but river water, so he is crying.  Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow, will you not bring her the ruby out of my sword-hilt?  My feet are fastened to this pedestal and I cannot move.”

“I am waited for in Egypt,” said the Swallow.  “My friends are flying up and down the Nile, and talking to the large lotus-flowers.  Soon they will go to sleep in the tomb of the great King.  The King is there himself in his painted coffin.  He is wrapped in yellow linen, and embalmed with spices.  Round his neck is a chain of pale green jade, and his hands are like withered leaves.”

“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not stay with me for one night, and be my messenger?  The boy is so thirsty, and the mother so sad.”

“I don’t think I like boys,” answered the Swallow.  “Last summer, when I was staying on the river, there were two rude boys, the miller’s sons, who were always throwing stones at me.  They never hit me, of course; we swallows fly far too well for that, and besides, I come of a family famous for its agility; but still, it was a mark of disrespect.”

But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little Swallow was sorry.  “It is very cold here,” he said; “but I will stay with you for one night, and be your messenger.”

“Thank you, little Swallow,” said the Prince.

So the Swallow picked out the great ruby from the Prince’s sword, and flew away with it in his beak over the roofs of the town.

He passed by the cathedral tower, where the white marble angels were sculptured.  He passed by the palace and heard the sound of dancing.  A beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her lover.  “How wonderful the stars are,” he said to her, “and how wonderful is the power of love!”

“I hope my dress will be ready in time for the State-ball,” she answered; “I have ordered passion-flowers to be embroidered on it; but the seamstresses are so lazy.”

He passed over the river, and saw the lanterns hanging to the masts of the ships.  He passed over the Ghetto, and saw the old Jews bargaining with each other, and weighing out money in copper scales.  At last he came to the poor house and looked in.  The boy was tossing feverishly on his bed, and the mother had fallen asleep, she was so tired.  In he hopped, and laid the great ruby on the table beside the woman’s thimble.  Then he flew gently round the bed, fanning the boy’s forehead with his wings.  “How cool I feel,” said the boy, “I must be getting better”; and he sank into a delicious slumber.

Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, and told him what he had done.  “It is curious,” he remarked, “but I feel quite warm now, although it is so cold.”

“That is because you have done a good action,” said the Prince.  And the little Swallow began to think, and then he fell asleep.  Thinking always made him sleepy.

When day broke he flew down to the river and had a bath.  “What a remarkable phenomenon,” said the Professor of Ornithology as he was passing over the bridge.  “A swallow in winter!”  And he wrote a long letter about it to the local newspaper.  Every one quoted it, it was full of so many words that they could not understand.

“To-night I go to Egypt,” said the Swallow, and he was in high spirits at the prospect.  He visited all the public monuments, and sat a long time on top of the church steeple.  Wherever he went the Sparrows chirruped, and said to each other, “What a distinguished stranger!” so he enjoyed himself very much.

When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince.  “Have you any commissions for Egypt?” he cried; “I am just starting.”

“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not stay with me one night longer?”

“I am waited for in Egypt,” answered the Swallow.  “To-morrow my friends will fly up to the Second Cataract.  The river-horse couches there among the bulrushes, and on a great granite throne sits the God Memnon.  All night long he watches the stars, and when the morning star shines he utters one cry of joy, and then he is silent.  At noon the yellow lions come down to the water’s edge to drink.  They have eyes like green beryls, and their roar is louder than the roar of the cataract.”

“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “far away across the city I see a young man in a garret.  He is leaning over a desk covered with papers, and in a tumbler by his side there is a bunch of withered violets.  His hair is brown and crisp, and his lips are red as a pomegranate, and he has large and dreamy eyes.  He is trying to finish a play for the Director of the Theatre, but he is too cold to write any more.  There is no fire in the grate, and hunger has made him faint.”

“I will wait with you one night longer,” said the Swallow, who really had a good heart.  “Shall I take him another ruby?”

“Alas!  I have no ruby now,” said the Prince; “my eyes are all that I have left.  They are made of rare sapphires, which were brought out of India a thousand years ago.  Pluck out one of them and take it to him.  He will sell it to the jeweller, and buy food and firewood, and finish his play.”

“Dear Prince,” said the Swallow, “I cannot do that”; and he began to weep.

“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “do as I command you.”

So the Swallow plucked out the Prince’s eye, and flew away to the student’s garret.  It was easy enough to get in, as there was a hole in the roof.  Through this he darted, and came into the room.  The young man had his head buried in his hands, so he did not hear the flutter of the bird’s wings, and when he looked up he found the beautiful sapphire lying on the withered violets.

“I am beginning to be appreciated,” he cried; “this is from some great admirer.  Now I can finish my play,” and he looked quite happy.

The next day the Swallow flew down to the harbour.  He sat on the mast of a large vessel and watched the sailors hauling big chests out of the hold with ropes.  “Heave a-hoy!” they shouted as each chest came up.  “I am going to Egypt”! cried the Swallow, but nobody minded, and when the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince.

“I am come to bid you good-bye,” he cried.

“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “will you not stay with me one night longer?”

“It is winter,” answered the Swallow, “and the chill snow will soon be here.  In Egypt the sun is warm on the green palm-trees, and the crocodiles lie in the mud and look lazily about them.  My companions are building a nest in the Temple of Baalbec, and the pink and white doves are watching them, and cooing to each other.  Dear Prince, I must leave you, but I will never forget you, and next spring I will bring you back two beautiful jewels in place of those you have given away.  The ruby shall be redder than a red rose, and the sapphire shall be as blue as the great sea.”

“In the square below,” said the Happy Prince, “there stands a little match-girl.  She has let her matches fall in the gutter, and they are all spoiled.  Her father will beat her if she does not bring home some money, and she is crying.  She has no shoes or stockings, and her little head is bare.  Pluck out my other eye, and give it to her, and her father will not beat her.”

“I will stay with you one night longer,” said the Swallow, “but I cannot pluck out your eye.  You would be quite blind then.”

“Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “do as I command you.”

So he plucked out the Prince’s other eye, and darted down with it.  He swooped past the match-girl, and slipped the jewel into the palm of her hand.  “What a lovely bit of glass,” cried the little girl; and she ran home, laughing.

Then the Swallow came back to the Prince.  “You are blind now,” he said, “so I will stay with you always.”

“No, little Swallow,” said the poor Prince, “you must go away to Egypt.”

“I will stay with you always,” said the Swallow, and he slept at the Prince’s feet.

All the next day he sat on the Prince’s shoulder, and told him stories of what he had seen in strange lands.  He told him of the red ibises, who stand in long rows on the banks of the Nile, and catch gold-fish in their beaks; of the Sphinx, who is as old as the world itself, and lives in the desert, and knows everything; of the merchants, who walk slowly by the side of their camels, and carry amber beads in their hands; of the King of the Mountains of the Moon, who is as black as ebony, and worships a large crystal; of the great green snake that sleeps in a palm-tree, and has twenty priests to feed it with honey-cakes; and of the pygmies who sail over a big lake on large flat leaves, and are always at war with the butterflies.

“Dear little Swallow,” said the Prince, “you tell me of marvellous things, but more marvellous than anything is the suffering of men and of women.  There is no Mystery so great as Misery.  Fly over my city, little Swallow, and tell me what you see there.”

So the Swallow flew over the great city, and saw the rich making merry in their beautiful houses, while the beggars were sitting at the gates.  He flew into dark lanes, and saw the white faces of starving children looking out listlessly at the black streets.  Under the archway of a bridge two little boys were lying in one another’s arms to try and keep themselves warm.  “How hungry we are!” they said.  “You must not lie here,” shouted the Watchman, and they wandered out into the rain.

Then he flew back and told the Prince what he had seen.

“I am covered with fine gold,” said the Prince, “you must take it off, leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor; the living always think that gold can make them happy.”

Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked off, till the Happy Prince looked quite dull and grey.  Leaf after leaf of the fine gold he brought to the poor, and the children’s faces grew rosier, and they laughed and played games in the street.  “We have bread now!” they cried.

Then the snow came, and after the snow came the frost.  The streets looked as if they were made of silver, they were so bright and glistening; long icicles like crystal daggers hung down from the eaves of the houses, everybody went about in furs, and the little boys wore scarlet caps and skated on the ice.

The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, but he would not leave the Prince, he loved him too well.  He picked up crumbs outside the baker’s door when the baker was not looking and tried to keep himself warm by flapping his wings.

But at last he knew that he was going to die.  He had just strength to fly up to the Prince’s shoulder once more.  “Good-bye, dear Prince!” he murmured, “will you let me kiss your hand?”

“I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last, little Swallow,” said the Prince, “you have stayed too long here; but you must kiss me on the lips, for I love you.”

“It is not to Egypt that I am going,” said the Swallow.  “I am going to the House of Death.  Death is the brother of Sleep, is he not?”

And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and fell down dead at his feet.

At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the statue, as if something had broken.  The fact is that the leaden heart had snapped right in two.  It certainly was a dreadfully hard frost.

Early the next morning the Mayor was walking in the square below in company with the Town Councillors.  As they passed the column he looked up at the statue: “Dear me! how shabby the Happy Prince looks!” he said.

“How shabby indeed!” cried the Town Councillors, who always agreed with the Mayor; and they went up to look at it.

“The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are gone, and he is golden no longer,” said the Mayor in fact, “he is litttle better than a beggar!”

“Little better than a beggar,” said the Town Councillors.

“And here is actually a dead bird at his feet!” continued the Mayor.  “We must really issue a proclamation that birds are not to be allowed to die here.”  And the Town Clerk made a note of the suggestion.

So they pulled down the statue of the Happy Prince.  “As he is no longer beautiful he is no longer useful,” said the Art Professor at the University.

Then they melted the statue in a furnace, and the Mayor held a meeting of the Corporation to decide what was to be done with the metal.  “We must have another statue, of course,” he said, “and it shall be a statue of myself.”

“Of myself,” said each of the Town Councillors, and they quarrelled.  When I last heard of them they were quarrelling still.

“What a strange thing!” said the overseer of the workmen at the foundry.  “This broken lead heart will not melt in the furnace.  We must throw it away.”  So they threw it on a dust-heap where the dead Swallow was also lying.

“Bring me the two most precious things in the city,” said God to one of His Angels; and the Angel brought Him the leaden heart and the dead bird.

“You have rightly chosen,” said God, “for in my garden of Paradise this little bird shall sing for evermore, and in my city of gold the Happy Prince shall praise me.”

[athedemonsqueen]

The King and Queen of Kattegat (Vikings)

Season 2

Chapter Fourteen

It is an early fall morning in Kattegat. Women are picking pumpkins in the fields, corn is the new currency among the fish, and comfort spices fill the air with such a delightful scent. The smell of the ocean did not compliment the smell, but one grew used to it. While all of Kattegat enjoys the festivities, my marriage was failing.

Ivar and I sat down to an early breakfast, we have been distant, trying for a child has made us turn against each other. Ivar cleared his throat,

"I'm going to lay down, I'm not hungry." He struggled to get up and began to walk towards the door.

"You do not want to spend the morning with me?" I asked.

He turned swiftly, "No, I don't think I'll spend the morning with you!" He said, sarcastically.

"You don't have to be mean about it!"

"You know I could have a thousand wives that could give me a son, but you, why not you?"

I got up slamming my hand down to the table, "Yes, and you married me! It's not my fault we are childless!"

Ivar threw his fist down on the table, "Yes, it is!"

I gasped as his fist came down and hurt by his words, he knew what he said got to me, and I quickly walked out of the Great Hall leaving him there.

I began to hysterically cry as I ran through the streets of Kattegat. I suddenly bumped into Hvitserk, but I did not waste time as I tried to getaway.

"Hey, hey, hey," Hvitserk said. He put his hand around my face and wiped my tears with his thumb.

"What happened?" He whispered.

"He is truly a monster, Hvitserk!" I cried, he sighed, "Ivar?"

I nodded, he sighed again, giving me a tight hug, "He is just as frustrated as you, I'm sure." I laid my head on his shoulder and sighed deeply.

"Come, let's find a place to talk, privately, there are eyes here." I picked my head up to see the people were staring at us.

Hvitserk and I went to our favorite spot, and everything seemed to slip away. I like being around Hvitserk. He is fun, he likes to climb the trees and hang from them as I pass by. I noticed he goes out of his way to make me smile. As we came to the cliff I sat in my spot in the flowers and he started throwing stones into the sea.

"Whatever happened to Thora?" I asked he sighed, putting his head down.

"We weren't meant for each other."

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't know," I said, getting up.

"It's fine, there is one girl I see, but-" Hvitserk stopped throwing a bigger rock into the sea.

"But?"

"She is unavailable," he said. "You're the Prince, you can simply take her," I declared.

He chuckled, "It is not that simple."

I licked my lips nodding, how I know I torture this poor boy, and I know I do and I don't know how to stop.

--

Ivar's P.O.V

Tears rolled down my cheeks and into my leftover stew as I began to regret my actions towards Yrsa this morning. The more and more I thought about it, the more it hurt me. I deserve it though, I have not been very supportive in this situation, and I know Yrsa has not enjoyed the sex. I knew that was going to happen and I do appreciate that she does not mention it.

I was in trouble. I know I was. All we've been doing is arguing and she is floating away from me. The other day, during sex I could tell she was in so much pain, and after we were done she took the sheets and slept in the other room. I knew it wasn't as pleasant for me and I hated that she put that on me. We fought all night for the sheets.

Three nights ago, I made a comment about how I had a hard time pushing into her, blaming her for my fault. "It's not my fault you're a cripple!"

I had to admit that stirred an old feeling in me, I wanted to hurt her, I felt like it was Sigurd making the comment towards me. I remember throwing a bowl at her as I fell to floor crawling after her as she ran, and then shouting,

"Sigurd!"

This isn't her fault, none of this is her fault. I've been a horrible husband, and I think having a child would destroy our marriage. A life without Yrsa will be an empty life, and I can't handle her being with another man. The mere thought sent shots into my heart and throughout my body.

"Ow," I groaned softly, rubbing my legs. Even my legs felt that heartbreak.

"I need to talk to her," I said, getting up. I went to the small garden we have in the back and picked some flowers for her. She likes yellow honeysuckle and white daisies, she puts them everywhere! She puts them by my bedside every morning, they've been easing my pain when my eyes turn icy.

I made my way to Hvitserk's house, she always runs to my brother when things go wrong. I picked my head up to see her and Hvitserk walking down the road together. She was smiling and laughing with him. It bothers me that Hvitserk dumped Thora and I know why nothing would get rid of my brother's feelings for my wife.

I walked over to Yrsa with my head down and handed her the flowers, "You know it gets rid of my pain, and I hope it gets rid of yours," I said. She took them, she seemed surprised by my act. She put them to her nose and smiled, looking over to Hvitserk.

"Well, little brother it seems you do have a soft heart behind that hard exterior."

"I can be just as romantic as you!" I said.

"You both are so handsome, and kind, I know women envy that I have Ivar and they crave Hvitserk because he's a bachelor."

Hvitserk laughed, as he blushed. Only Yrsa could make him do that. I then suddenly had a crazy idea. Odin struck me like a bolt of lighting, only he could come up with this idea.

I know a way how Yrsa can conceive a child. In many ways, it is a good idea and I don't see any fault in it and it does not bother me in the least bit. It would solve my problems for both Hvitserk and my having a child with my wife. I knew it would work.

I have an idea.

@youbloodymadgenius

[oldsolidbooks]

The Happy Prince by Oscar Wilde

High above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy Prince. He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine gold, for eyes he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed on his sword-hilt.

He was very much admired indeed. `He is as beautiful as a weathercock,' remarked one of the Town Councillors who wished to gain a reputation for having artistic tastes; `only not quite so useful,' he added, fearing lest people should think him unpractical, which he really was not.

`Why can't you be like the Happy Prince?' asked a sensible mother of her little boy who was crying for the moon. `The Happy Prince never dreams of crying for anything.'

`I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy,' muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue.

`He looks just like an angel,' said the Charity Children as they came out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks, and their clean white pinafores.

`How do you know?' said the Mathematical Master, `you have never seen one.'

`Ah! but we have, in our dreams,' answered the children; and the Mathematical Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did not approve of children dreaming.

One night there flew over the city a little Swallow. His friends had gone away to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for he was in love with the most beautiful Reed. He had met her early in the spring as he was flying down the river after a big yellow moth, and had been so attracted by her slender waist that he had stopped to talk to her.

`Shall I love you?' said the Swallow, who liked to come to the point at once, and the Reed made him a low bow. So he flew round and round her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver ripples. This was his courtship, and it lasted all through the summer.

`It is a ridiculous attachment,' twittered the other Swallows, `she has no money, and far too many relations;' and indeed the river was quite full of Reeds. Then, when the autumn came, they all flew away.

After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to tire of his lady-love. `She has no conversation,' he said, `and I am afraid that she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind.' And certainly, whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful curtsies. `I admit that she is domestic,' he continued, `but I love travelling, and my wife, consequently, should love travelling also.'

`Will you come away with me?' he said finally to her; but the Reed shook her head, she was so attached to her home.

`You have been trifling with me,' he cried, `I am off to the Pyramids. Good-bye!' and he flew away.

All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived at the city. `Where shall I put up?' he said; `I hope the town has made preparations.'

Then he saw the statue on the tall column. `I will put up there,' he cried; `it is a fine position with plenty of fresh air.' So he alighted just between the feet of the Happy Prince.

`I have a golden bedroom,' he said softly to himself as he looked round, and he prepared to go to sleep; but just as he was putting his head under his wing a large drop of water fell on him. `What a curious thing!' he cried, `there is not a single cloud in the sky, the stars are quite clear and bright, and yet it is raining. The climate in the north of Europe is really dreadful. The Reed used to like the rain, but that was merely her selfishness.'

Then another drop fell.

`What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?' he said; `I must look for a good chimney-pot,' and he determined to fly away.

But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he looked up, and saw

- Ah! what did he see?

The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, and tears were running down his golden cheeks. His face was so beautiful in the moonlight that the little Swallow was filled with pity.

`Who are you?' he said.

`I am the Happy Prince.'

`Why are you weeping then?' asked the Swallow; `you have quite drenched me.'

`When I was alive and had a human heart,' answered the statue, `I did not know what tears were, for I lived in the palace of Sans-Souci, where sorrow is not allowed to enter. In the daytime I played with my companions in the garden, and in the evening I led the dance in the Great Hall. Round the garden ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared to ask what lay beyond it, everything about me was so beautiful. My courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was, if pleasure be happiness. So I lived, and so I died. And now that I am dead they have set me up here so high that I can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my city, and though my heart is made of lead yet I cannot choose but weep.'

`What, is he not solid gold?' said the Swallow to himself. He was too polite to make any personal remarks out loud.

`Far away,' continued the statue in a low musical voice, `far away in a little street there is a poor house. One of the windows is open, and through it I can see a woman seated at a table. Her face is thin and worn, and she has coarse, red hands, all pricked by the needle, for she is a seamstress. She is embroidering passion-flowers on a satin gown for the loveliest of the Queen's maids-of-honour to wear at the next Court-ball. In a bed in the corner of the room her little boy is lying ill. He has a fever, and is asking for oranges. His mother has nothing to give him but river water, so he is crying. Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow, will you not bring her the ruby out of my sword-hilt? My feet are fastened to this pedestal and I cannot move.'

`I am waited for in Egypt,' said the Swallow. `My friends are flying up and down the Nile, and talking to the large lotus-flowers. Soon they will go to sleep in the tomb of the great King. The King is there himself in his painted coffin. He is wrapped in yellow linen, and embalmed with spices. Round his neck is a chain of pale green jade, and his hands are like withered leaves.'

`Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,' said the Prince, `will you not stay with me for one night, and be my messenger? The boy is so thirsty, and the mother so sad.'

`I don't think I like boys,' answered the Swallow. `Last summer, when I was staying on the river, there were two rude boys, the miller's sons, who were always throwing stones at me. They never hit me, of course; we swallows fly far too well for that, and besides, I come of a family famous for its agility; but still, it was a mark of disrespect.'

But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little Swallow was sorry. `It is very cold here,' he said; `but I will stay with you for one night, and be your messenger.'

`Thank you, little Swallow,' said the Prince.

So the Swallow picked out the great ruby from the Prince's sword, and flew away with it in his beak over the roofs of the town.

He passed by the cathedral tower, where the white marble angels were sculptured. He passed by the palace and heard the sound of dancing. A beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her lover. `How wonderful the stars are,' he said to her, and how wonderful is the power of love!'

`I hope my dress will be ready in time for the State-ball,' she answered; `I have ordered passion-flowers to be embroidered on it; but the seamstresses are so lazy.'

He passed over the river, and saw the lanterns hanging to the masts of the ships. He passed over the Ghetto, and saw the old jews bargaining with each other, and weighing out money in copper scales. At last he came to the poor house and looked in. The boy was tossing feverishly on his bed, and the mother had fallen asleep, she was so tired. In he hopped, and laid the great ruby on the table beside the woman's thimble. Then he flew gently round the bed, fanning the boy's forehead with his wings. `How cool I feel,' said the boy, `I must be getting better;' and he sank into a delicious slumber.

Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, and told him what he had done. `It is curious,' he remarked, `but I feel quite warm now, although it is so cold.'

`That is because you have done a good action,' said the Prince. And the little Swallow began to think, and then he fell asleep. Thinking always made him sleepy.

When day broke he flew down to the river and had a bath. `What a remarkable phenomenon,' said the Professor of Ornithology as he was passing over the bridge. `A swallow in winter!' And he wrote a long letter about it to the local newspaper. Every one quoted it, it was full of so many words that they could not understand.

`To-night I go to Egypt,' said the Swallow, and he was in high spirits at the prospect. He visited all the public monuments, and sat a long time on top of the church steeple. Wherever he went the Sparrows chirruped, and said to each other, `What a distinguished stranger!' so he enjoyed himself very much. When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince. `Have you any commissions for Egypt?' he cried; `I am just starting.'

`Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,' said the Prince, `will you not stay with me one night longer?'

`I am waited for in Egypt,' answered the Swallow. `To-morrow my friends will fly up to the Second Cataract. The river-horse couches there among the bulrushes, and on a great granite throne sits the God Memnon. All night long he watches the stars, and when the morning star shines he utters one cry of joy, and then he is silent. At noon the yellow lions come down to the water's edge to drink. They have eyes like green beryls, and their roar is louder than the roar of the cataract.'

`Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,' said the prince, `far away across the city I see a young man in a garret. He is leaning over a desk covered with papers, and in a tumbler by his side there is a bunch of withered violets. His hair is brown and crisp, and his lips are red as a pomegranate, and he has large and dreamy eyes. He is trying to finish a play for the Director of the Theatre, but he is too cold to write any more. There is no fire in the grate, and hunger has made him faint.'

`I will wait with you one night longer,' said the Swallow, who really had a good heart. `Shall I take him another ruby?'

`Alas! I have no ruby now,' said the Prince; `my eyes are all that I have left. They are made of rare sapphires, which were brought out of India a thousand years ago. Pluck out one of them and take it to him. He will sell it to the jeweller, and buy food and firewood, and finish his play.'

`Dear Prince,' said the Swallow, `I cannot do that;' and he began to weep.

`Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,' said the Prince, `do as I command you.'

So the Swallow plucked out the Prince's eye, and flew away to the student's garret. It was easy enough to get in, as there was a hole in the roof. Through this he darted, and came into the room. The young man had his head buried in his hands, so he did not hear the flutter of the bird's wings, and when he looked up he found the beautiful sapphire lying on the withered violets.

`I am beginning to be appreciated,' he cried; `this is from some great admirer. Now I can finish my play,' and he looked quite happy.

The next day the Swallow flew down to the harbour. He sat on the mast of a large vessel and watched the sailors hauling big chests out of the hold with ropes. `Heave a-hoy!' they shouted as each chest came up. `I am going to Egypt!' cried the Swallow, but nobody minded, and when the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince.

`I am come to bid you good-bye,' he cried.

`Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,' said the Prince, `will you not stay with me one night longer?'

`It is winter,' answered the Swallow, `and the chill snow will soon be here. In Egypt the sun is warm on the green palm-trees, and the crocodiles lie in the mud and look lazily about them. My companions are building a nest in the Temple of Baalbec, and the pink and white doves are watching them, and cooing to each other. Dear Prince, I must leave you, but I will never forget you, and next spring I will bring you back two beautiful jewels in place of those you have given away. The ruby shall be redder than a red rose, and the sapphire shall be as blue as the great sea.'

`In the square below,' said the Happy Prince, `there stands a little match-girl. She has let her matches fall in the gutter, and they are all spoiled. Her father will beat her if she does not bring home some money, and she is crying. She has no shoes or stockings, and her little head is bare. Pluck out my other eye, and give it to her, and her father will not beat her.'

`I will stay with you one night longer,' said the Swallow, `but I cannot pluck out your eye. You would be quite blind then.'

`Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,' said the Prince, `do as I command you.'

So he plucked out the Prince's other eye, and darted down with it. He swooped past the match-girl, and slipped the jewel into the palm of her hand. `What a lovely bit of glass,' cried the little girl; and she ran home, laughing.

Then the Swallow came back to the Prince. `You are blind now,' he said, `so I will stay with you always.'

`No, little Swallow,' said the poor Prince, `you must go away to Egypt.'

`I will stay with you always,' said the Swallow, and he slept at the Prince's feet.

All the next day he sat on the Prince's shoulder, and told him stories of what he had seen in strange lands. He told him of the red ibises, who stand in long rows on the banks of the Nile, and catch gold fish in their beaks; of the Sphinx, who is as old as the world itself and lives in the desert, and knows everything; of the merchants, who walk slowly by the side of their camels, and carry amber beads in their hands; of the King of the Mountains of the Moon, who is as black as ebony, and worships a large crystal; of the great green snake that sleeps in a palm-tree, and has twenty priests to feed it with honey-cakes; and of the pygmies who sail over a big lake on large flat leaves, and are always at war with the butterflies.

`Dear little Swallow,' said the Prince, `you tell me of marvellous things, but more marvellous than anything is the suffering of men and of women. There is no Mystery so great as Misery. Fly over my city, little Swallow, and tell me what you see there.'

So the Swallow flew over the great city, and saw the rich making merry in their beautiful houses, while the beggars were sitting at the gates. He flew into dark lanes, and saw the white faces of starving children looking out listlessly at the black streets. Under the archway of a bridge two little boys were lying in one another's arms to try and keep themselves warm. `How hungry we are!' they said. `You must not lie here,' shouted the Watchman, and they wandered out into the rain.

Then he flew back and told the Prince what he had seen.

`I am covered with fine gold,' said the Prince, `you must take it off, leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor; the living always think that gold can make them happy.'

Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked off, till the Happy Prince looked quite dull and grey. Leaf after leaf of the fine gold he brought to the poor, and the children's faces grew rosier, and they laughed and played games in the street. `We have bread now!' they cried.

Then the snow came, and after the snow came the frost. The streets looked as if they were made of silver, they were so bright and glistening; long icicles like crystal daggers hung down from the eaves of the houses, everybody went about in furs, and the little boys wore scarlet caps and skated on the ice.

The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, but he would not leave the Prince, he loved him too well. He picked up crumbs outside the baker's door where the baker was not looking, and tried to keep himself warm by flapping his wings.

But at last he knew that he was going to die. He had just strength to fly up to the Prince's shoulder once more. `Good-bye, dear Prince!' he murmured, `will you let me kiss your hand?'

`I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last, little Swallow,' said the Prince, `you have stayed too long here; but you must kiss me on the lips, for I love you.' `It is not to Egypt that I am going,' said the Swallow. `I am going to the House of Death. Death is the brother of Sleep, is he not?'

And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and fell down dead at his feet.

At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the statue, as if something had broken. The fact is that the leaden heart had snapped right in two. It certainly was a dreadfully hard frost. Early the next morning the Mayor was walking in the square below in company with the Town Councillors. As they passed the column he looked up at the statue: `Dear me! how shabby the Happy Prince looks!' he said.

`How shabby indeed!' cried the Town Councillors, who always agreed with the Mayor, and they went up to look at it.

`The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are gone, and he is golden no longer,' said the Mayor; `in fact, he is little better than a beggar!'

`Little better than a beggar' said the Town councillors.

`And here is actually a dead bird at his feet!' continued the Mayor. `We must really issue a proclamation that birds are not to be allowed to die here.' And the Town Clerk made a note of the suggestion.

So they pulled down the statue of the Happy Prince. `As he is no longer beautiful he is no longer useful,' said the Art Professor at the University.

Then they melted the statue in a furnace, and the Mayor held a meeting of the Corporation to decide what was to be done with the metal. `We must have another statue, of course,' he said, `and it shall be a statue of myself.'

`Of myself,' said each of the Town Councillors, and they quarrelled. When I last heard of them they were quarrelling still.

`What a strange thing!' said the overseer of the workmen at the foundry. `This broken lead heart will not melt in the furnace. We must throw it away.' So they threw it on a dust-heap where the dead Swallow was also lying.

`Bring me the two most precious things in the city,' said God to one of His Angels; and the Angel brought Him the leaden heart and the dead bird.

`You have rightly chosen,' said God, `for in my garden of Paradise this little bird shall sing for evermore, and in my city of gold the Happy Prince shall praise me.'

[be-dazzled]

#TheVampireTales #TVT

Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser FF net: click here Author: K.T. Adlam (xxbedazzledxx) Genre: Supernatural, Romance, Drama

Do you know where your heart is? Do you think you can find it?

It was definitely too early.

The waking light bled through the indigo sky. Its warm colors dispersed throughout the far reaching canvass. The rays colored the dark-washed abode with glowing warmth, from its elaborate foot to the grandeur roofing; revealing the old-world charm of the Manor mansion. Just like the Hegen, the royal manor managed to retain the classic architectural elegance of the Ancient World.

 The Manor stood the test of time; survived generations of humans and vampires alike. The original eclectic and asymmetrical style, reminiscent of the architectures in the pre-vampire period, has managed to survive various restorations. The original owners could not anymore meet the demands of maintaining and preserving the overwhelming size of the estate. Eventually, the estate fell in the hands of Eldest Makarov and was later renamed the Dreyar Royal Manor. Its affairs were personally managed by Queen Rayla Dreyar until her death.

 The Dreyar Royal Manor and the people living in it, regardless of race, held a special place in Queen Rayla’s heart. She did not see her people as subjects but as members of her family that needed taking care of. So she imposed these duties upon herself: to preserve the Manor and to watch over its people. If she was looking down from heaven, Queen Rayla may be crying her heart out at the disheartening sight of her beloved Manor.

 Years of neglect has dulled the once lively home. Now, only stray grass grew on it. Laxus Dreyar, the only son of the Eldest, refused to allow his mother’s efforts and her memory go to vain. So, Laxus took over the management and restored the Manor to its former glory, just how he knew his mother wanted it. The property remained with the Dreyar Family ever since.

 The four hundred acres served as home to those who became members of the Royal Family through the Selection. While attending the prestigious Academy, Queens Lyssandra, Victoria, Samara and Lirabelle, respective queen consorts of the North, East, West and Southern Kingdoms, were residents of the Manor at some point in time.

 Today, the Dreyar Royal Manor was going to welcome its four newest royal residents.

Gajeel stayed in the car and refused to come out; all grumpy and pouty. If anyone told him days ago that he’d be staying at the Dreyar estate and be enrolling into the Academy he would have definitely punched the bastard squarely in the face. But he couldn’t, since that someone was King Gareth Redfox – his father.

 Gajeel has lived for more than a hundred years. His days playing a high school boy had long been behind him. He has seen things and done things no ordinary boy could have. Gajeel Redfox was a man. He grinned at himself. The nights he spent in the sac of numerous strangers painted a triumphant smirk on his lips. Definitely, a man.

 However, he was well aware of the reason of their exile to the Academy. He was present at the Round Table when the Royal Council discussed the matter at hand. The discussion played in his head like broken record.

 Gajeel wasn’t one to be modest in airing his sentiments but when it came down to it he knew, in these trying times, he would never abandon the Royal Family. He would never abandon her. So despite his reservations, Gajeel was now sitting at the passenger’s seat watching as helpers walked in and out of the Dreyar Mansion.

 The Western whiner threw a glance at the other royal with the long and silky hair, of color which he couldn’t decide between white and silver. Gajeel couldn’t help but snort at the sight. The princess had one arm on her hips while the free one gestured here and there, much like she was conducting an orchestra. A smile which rivaled the sun’s radiance was plastered across her face.

 At least, Gajeel thought, someone was enjoying all of this.

 A dim thud pulled his attention toward the vacated driver’s seat. Knightus Dreyar stepped outside the car, shutting the door behind him; his golden hair blazing at the touch of the sun. The backseat was now deserted too. The youngest royal must have left right after Knight, leaving Gajeel no other choice but to follow. But not before he made an audible  and displeased sound. There were a lot of places he would rather be at: the sunny beach, the energetic night-life district and even just in the comfort of his own castle. The Dreyar Royal Estate was definitely not in the list.

 The helpers formed two lines right before the royal quartet and waited to be dismissed. They have been polishing the mansion in anticipation of the arrival of the royals. They have wiped and scrubbed every inch and crony of that place. Who would have thought Princess Mirajane still had a few words to say? Control ran in the blood of her line. It was probably a trait passed down from one Strauss generation to another.

 All eyes looked anywhere but at the royals present. It was common courtesy. Commoners were forbidden to touch or approach a member of the royal family. An ancient rule created by the Caste system to maintain power and reputation. Remnants of this rule, although has eased up, still existed today. Gajeel thought it was preposterous considering this day and age.

 The Prince of the North Kingdom stepped out of the royal four-man line to thank the help for their services. He gave them the whole inspiring speech Gajeel had no interest in listening to. He was thankful though. As an older vampire, Gajeel ought to be the person boring the crowd with this ‘gratitude speech’. But now, he didn’t have to thanks to the golden-haired prince. He hated all these royal formalities and decorum.

 Gajeel studied how Knight carried himself in front of the helpers. Classic Prince Charming, he thought. The Prince from the North Kingdom put great weight on the manners and etiquette impressed upon him since he was a child; a stickler for values and traditions. It was one of his many attractive qualities.

 The Western Prince was just the opposite; not that he wasn’t charming or mannerly himself. He’d meet his mother’s fist if he appeared to exhibit what she deemed ‘unroyal behavior’. Queen Samara was a stern disciplinarian. So, the Prince had the role of well-mannered prince down to a T. If Queen Samara wasn’t looking. Because Gajeel Redfox loved himself a little danger. So once in a while, he allowed himself to slip out of the Prince image. Something, he bet, Knightus Dreyar never did.

 Well, except when a certain red-head was involved.

 Gajeel’s scanning dark eyes landed next on the heiress to the Strauss Crown.

 Mirajane Strauss strictly adhered to rules and regulations. She followed them with no complaints. Even if some of them were considered outdated. But Gajeel could never place her in a single category; compliant in nature but was far from the meek, damsel-in-distress stereotype. As the first in the third generation of royal vampires, she was the strongest in that line. Mira has proven it on numerous occasions.

 She was a paradox; Sugar and spice. Sweet and deadly. So much so that even Gajeel would think twice in challenging her. He made that mistake once and would never dare do it again.

 Juvia of the East Kingdom was a little rebellious just like Gajeel. She too was a lover of danger. Feisty and fearless – always sought thrill and freedom. She always tried to break away from the subservient princess she was expected to be. Always challenging the status quo. Juvia would never please anyone, not if it didn’t suit her interests. So did Gajeel.

 The only difference between the two, which earned Gajeel’s respect toward the youngest royal, was the latter’s display of blatant defiance even in front of her mother. Something Gajeel could never dream of doing. Juvia was a rebel without a cause and just sought to stir trouble. She was all sorts of fun. That was why among the three, he was most fond of the Juvia.

 But lately, something was different. There was something about Juvia that felt different. Gajeel peered at the Eastern heiress as if by doing so he would find the answer. What was it? Why did Juvia seem different?

 Reality drew Gajeel’s attention back to the Manor’s head-servant addressing the Northern prince. Oba Babasama was the only one allowed to do so for having served the Dreyar Family for more than two centuries.

 “Please, Your Highness, if there is anything we can help with, never hesitate to call.” informed Oba. Clearly, the helpers were at the royals’ disposal to answer to every beck and call.

 “Thank you, Oba Babasama.” answered Knight. “We promise not to be a burden.”

 Gajeel smirked. Says who, he thought. His sly smile having every intention to do the opposite.

 One by one, the helpers dispersed, leaving the royal quartet alone at the property. Gajeel leaned against the Royce and observed Mirajane, not at all knowing what she was thinking. Then, he heard her voice, her back still at him.

 “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Mira inhaled the smell of fresh morning. “Since our last adventure?”

 Mira spun to face the three royals still standing beside the Rolls Royce Dawn. She clasped her hands together and declared with confidence. The fully awakened morning dulled in the brightness of her smile. The morning dew, the environment, all promised a fresh start.

 “I just know it. This is going to be a one kick-ass year!”

 “What are you now? A fortune-teller?” quipped Gajeel as he peeled himself off the Royce.

 Mira ignored Gajeel’s comment and started for the main door. She spoke of her plans for the semester as she strutted, drowning the other royals in her words and excitement. No one knew where she was getting all that energy early in the morning.

 “Geez, woman. Take it down a notch.” Gajeel massaged his temple in annoyance.

 With Mira’s youthful enthusiasm, Juvia, somehow, was hopeful. She wanted to believe it. That this year was going to be better. Kick-ass. She just couldn’t shake off, for some unknown reason, the unsettling feeling weighing on her stomach.

 Juvia quelled her doubts with one thought: she should be thankful. It would have been lonely, getting vanished to the Academy alone. It was selfish, she knew. A part of her felt a little guilty but the part that won was gratitude. It didn’t hurt to be selfish sometimes, did it?

 Juvia fell behind, just one step outside the door, under the roofed entry porch. She gathered her thoughts. Juvia was beyond grateful. She did not have to do it alone. Mira, Gajeel and Knight, they blindly came to her side. Abandoned everything at the drop of a hat. No questions asked. Even though she has not opened up to them yet. Even though she has not opened up to anyone yet. Of course, she knew, at some point she had to tell them the truth. They deserved the truth, they earned it. She wasn’t going to keep these people she loved in the dark.

 Just not today.

 “Thanks.” muttered Juvia. Although the intended benefactors weren’t in sight, she knew they heard her – loud and clear.

 As she pushed the door open, Juvia felt her phone vibrate. She stopped just inches away from the threshold and pulled out the phone from the back pocket to see who the message was from. The screen read ‘Lucy H’ with a heart emoticon in place of a period. She swiped the excerpt of the message to read the full text.

 ‘Are you at the estate? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. We’re preparing for the opening ceremony and Erza could be a little… you know.’

 Juvia understood. From what Lucy has told her, as the President of the student body, Erza could really be a little… dictator. The royal tapped in her response assuring her best friend that her absence was excused.

 ‘See you at school.’

 Juvia stared at the last sentence she had just typed in. Her heart thumped. Was she even ready for it? Was she ready to see and meet people? She shook her head. Of course, she was. She had to be.

 The princess slid her phone back into her pocket and crossed the threshold. But before she shut the door close behind her, Juvia couldn’t help but remember what Mira just said.

 “Kick-ass year, huh?”

 Juvia let out a breath; half worrying, half hoping.

 Did you trade it for something, somewhere? Better just to have it

  Do you know what your fate is And are you trying to shake it

 The new day forced Juvia’s eyes open, peeking through the cracks between her room’s heavy curtains. She covered her eyes before the sun finally ruined her retinas. Her pupils fixated on the stone on her ring finger. Sapphire, the holy gem. Juvia always took off her sun ring before going to sleep and would only wear it the following morning. Last night, however, she wore her sun ring through the night. Something she hasn’t done before.

 Juvia would have rolled to the other side to get more sleep but she couldn’t go back to it even if she wanted to. Her entire being was wide awake. It was not like she was excited or anything. The princess just had a hard time falling asleep last night. It has been a while since she last left her castle. Her body was adjusting to the new environment.

 Juvia propped herself on the bed, sitting on the comfortable mattress. Getting out of bed proved to be a struggle. She glanced at the clock sitting on her bedside table; it read five. Too early, she thought.

 She wasn’t really in the spirits to begin the day. Should she skip it? Juvia stared at her curtains and pictured the radiant sun behind them. Today was the first day of school. Like a stranger in a new town, she felt anxious. Of what, she asked herself. People? How ridiculous.

 Finally deciding it was futile staying in bed, Juvia willed herself up, swung her feet at the side of the bed and shuffled to the bathroom. She dawdled over the morning ritual of showering and dressing. Juvia did not give much thought about her outfit. Anything would do. She studied her reflection in the mirror: ocean eyes, blue locks, porcelain skin and slender figure. Everything about her looked the same. How come Juvia felt different?

 Princess Juvia descended the stairs to an inviting smell of Gajeel’s cooking and humming. Despite his tough persona, the Western prince was a commendable cook. Although, Juvia would never admit it to him. Gajeel need not have another reason to inflate his ballooning ego.

 “Did you sleep well last night?”

 Mirajane raised her eyes off her phone screen and greeted the youngest royal. Apparently, Juvia was the last person to come downstairs.

 “Yes.” lied Juvia.

 There was no need to worry Mira, who returned to typing on her phone. Juvia sat between the former and the prince with the golden hair. The latter was buried in a book.

 Juvia noticed the empty seats around the kitchen counter. Erza and Lucy should have joined them for breakfast. But there was still no sign of any of the two. Juvia awoken her phone. No unread messages. She put it to sleep and set the phone on the table next to her plate. Lucy probably didn’t sleep at the mansion last night, Juvia thought, but she should have left her a message.

 As the three young royals waited for breakfast, Juvia averted her focus on the television. The morning news was on. They were showing aftermath of a rebel attack at one of the villages in the East Kingdom. The picture shattered Juvia’s indifference. Her heart pounded at the sight of half-burnt structures and the casualties surrounding them. The attack was still fresh. The thick gray smoke replaced the sky.

 The anchor informed that the fire has already been extinguished and the entire situation was already under control. But it pained Juvia to watch her people coming out of the burnt buildings, screaming and crying in pain and at loss. She silently prayed that help came straightaway.

 Troubled ocean eyes searched for two certain figures in the background. There she saw a tall masculine figure donned in the official East Kingdom Commander-in-Chief uniform. He was talking to some familiar faces she always sees in her father’s meeting room.

 She was relieved when the other figure she was looking for wasn’t anywhere around the site. Juvia was sure her mother wanted to be there, even argued with her father to be allowed to help. Be of use. She was also sure her father refused. King Juliann always had his family’s safety in mind and in priority. Hence, her exile to the Dreyar Manor.

 Grit and urgency stirred inside her but her rippling thoughts were quickly interrupted.

 “I know what you are thinking and there’s no way in hell the Council would allow you anywhere near that site.”

 Mirajane did not take her eyes off her phone but she quickly quashed any thoughts of Juvia coming to the village to help.

 “I wasn’t thinking that.”

 That was Juvia’s second lie today. Good way to start the first day of school, she sarcastically thought. But Mira was right so Juvia conceded.

 “Bon appetite!”

 Gajeel jumped in with an offer of a delicious breakfast. He laid four plates of four-layered pancakes with a side of crisp bacon on the counter.

 “Man, good looks, great body and crazy set of talents. No wonder women fall at my feet.”

 Mirajane stifled a laugh.

 “What are you laughing at? Just eat your food. You, too.” Gajeel pointed at Mira then Juvia. “Don’t leave anything on that plate.”

 “Yes, mother.” quipped Juvia, earning a subtle laugh from her company.

 Then, the four royals ate in a lighter atmosphere. Despite the lingering worry wearing her down, Juvia hoped she would feel better as the day wore on.

 You're doing your best and you're best look You're praying that you'll make it

  Juvia leaned her head against the car window. She got tired of watching Gajeel banging his head and drumming his fingers with the tune playing in the car. Instead, she shifted her attention to the line of trees and the green expanse that moved inside her window like a reel of still images. Her mind was shut and the beautiful scenery passed before her eyes in a blur. It was better that way, she thought. She did not like thoughts visiting her.

 Juvia felt the car slowing down; her body leaned a little on the side when the car made a slow turn. The head of the clock tower peeked above the trees that blocked the Academy’s entire body. It was the most dominant feature of the school. As the car progressed, the ridges of the structure’s roofing came to view until the rest of the building fully materialized before Juvia’s indifferent blue eyes.

 As one of the few surviving original structures in the pre-vampire period and still being part of the Dreyar Estate, the influence of that era’s architecture was strongly present. All the buildings in the Academy’s compound were constructed out of the same materials to resemble each other and fall within one common motif.

 Even yards away, Juvia could distinctly hear excited shrills and random thought patterns all at once. She pressed her temple and tried to block the noise off. It was rude to eavesdrop, after all.

 Knight’s Royce slowed down as they approached the Academy’s gate which was neither intimidating nor welcoming. Without any interrogation or confirmation, the on-post guard quickly ordered the gate to be opened. Knight’s Royce needed no introduction. Inside, the car purred through the open space before it finally made a full stop.

 Juvia stepped out of the car, not quite sure how to feel walking into the Academy’s grounds. She landed on both feet. She took measured steps as if she was testing the ground for the first time. She was finally here. Which only meant one thing, that everything that happened was real. She wasn’t having a bad dream. Reality slapped Juvia in the face as cold as the wind that winter blows.

 The Eastern Princess felt a light tap on her shoulder. She spun around to see Gajeel; his face pulled in a frown.

 “You okay?”

 Juvia nodded in response, offering the prince a small smile. Gajeel wanted to tell her that it didn’t suit her. The latter chose to keep quiet, for now. He’d save the questions for later.

 “Are you ready?”

 It was Knight who spoke next, taking his sunglasses off, just coming out of the driver’s seat. Although he addressed the group, Juvia caught his gaze and couldn’t help but feel that the question was directed at her.

 “You betcha!”

 Mira climbed down the car, completing the royal quartet.

 Juvia had to thank her. Mira responding on her behalf removed the thorn that was caught up in her throat. She couldn’t quite settle on how she felt about everything. Her mind was in a big mess.

 Juvia let the peppy royal lead her to the front of the main building where she saw a number of students already gathered. Knight started after them with Gajeel in a close-knit pack.

 The chatters at the yard suddenly stopped like someone just turned off a switch. Babble of gasps and sighs flared up. All eyes were awestruck. The fact that royal bloods were approaching the quad was definitely a surprise. The silence was short-lived, however. In a split second, the switch was on and the entire Academy buzzed back to life.

 Too many mental thoughts bombarded Juvia’s brain. The discreet murmurs were loudly resounding in her ears. It was all dizzying. But the thought patterns were boiled down into one: that none of them could believe who were walking towards and amongst them.

 It wasn’t all strange for Juvia. She was used to it. She was used to being stared at, talked about, the apple of the eye. There was a time she enjoyed the attention. If this was the old Juvia, she would give every queen bee a run for their money. It was easy. All Juvia needed to do was nod, wave and charm the audience with her magnetic smile. Easy. Well, it used to be.

 While Juvia had to put up appearances, Mirajane smiled and waved like she was about to walk into a hero’s welcome. She was accustomed to a grand entrance and naturally fell right into it. Juvia thought her jaw was going to break from all the fake smiling. She had no choice. Noblesse oblige. Privilege entailed responsibility. And there was no greater privilege than waiting next in line for the royal crown.

 It wasn’t long until the four royalties were surrounded as soon as they stopped at the middle of the yard. A few familiar faces, those who were part of the royal circle, approached and greeted them. They quickly exchanged pleasantries but didn’t stay long. The other students, those who thought did not deserve to even look at the royals, simply stood and stared at the sidelines. Even inside the Academy, the Caste system was in full force.

 Through the chatters, the voice that relaxed Juvia called out, keeping her uneasiness at bay. Lucy Heartfilia welcomed the royal quartet. She ran towards them and threw her arms around the royal with the blue locks, pulling her in a tight and welcoming embrace. Juvia reciprocated with equal warmth.

 “Can’t believe you guys are finally here.” whispered Lucy. “I’m really sorry I can’t be at the Manor to welcome you.”

 It was Juvia who broke the hug first only to look at the blonde and reassure her.

 “I told you it’s no big deal.”

 She hasn’t seen the young blonde since the events after the Selection, after the attack at the Lockser Castle. Lucy stayed with the Lockser Royal Family ever since she was orphaned. She and Juvia became best friends, almost attached to the hip. In summers and school breaks, the two would play, hang around and do just about anything together until the break ends. That particular summer, Lucy was told not to come home for a while. Just until King Juliann sorted out the mess. Juvia knew her father was right. She did not want to put Lucy in any danger. So even if it broke her heart, Juvia advised her best friend not to return for the time being.

 Juvia caught up on something. She squinted as her eyes examined the young blonde.

 “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Lucy giggled as she questioned the strange look Juvia was giving her.

 The young blonde never wore make-up but her skin was as flawless as ever, even glowing. Lucy’s skin could almost parallel Juvia’s fair and translucent one. But Juvia’s curious eyes landed on the cute red ribbon sitting atop of Lucy’s head. The band pushed her hair back, save for her side bangs. Her face was glowing.

 Juvia was about to open her mouth and tease her about it when…

 “Drop dead.”

 “Same to you.”

 Knight and Erza already started their usual derisive exchange; swallowing the words Juvia wanted to say. Contempt was raging in the duo’s eyes, his blue and her chocolate ones. Knowing the two and spending almost two years with them, Juvia was sure it was the most civil greeting they both could muster. She couldn’t help but think though; didn’t they miss each other, at least?

 The woman with the blazing scarlet hair would have added something if not for the first bell which interrupted them. Erza started towards the main building but not before she and Knight stared each other down for a good moment that Juvia thought would stretch on forever.

 “Those two surely got along.” commented Gajeel with a tone that implied the opposite.

 Lucy linked arms with Juvia, promising her that they will sit next to each other.

 “Who would believe, in a million years, we’re going to end up in the same class?”

 Even Juvia was amused with the fact that she was older than Lucy by a hundred years. Yet, here they were, about to begin the school year together. Her anxiety and fears melted away, long forgotten.

 “I’ll definitely make sure we’ll be sitting next to each other in every class.” informed Lucy. “Then, we’re going to school dances together.” She was already planning the entire year ahead. “Then, there’s prom!” she exclaimed.

 The blonde’s excitement was contagious. For a moment, Juvia felt like her old self again. For the first time since the Selection, Juvia felt excited about something.

“Then, we can pick the same elective classes. I don’t know which one you’ll like but… oh!”

 Lucy paused, stopping Juvia with her, when she remembered something. She retrieved her arm for a moment to take out a piece of paper from her bag.

 “I copied a schedule for you so you don’t get lost or anything.”

 Juvia stared at the paper. The table showed the semester’s class schedule.

 “I hope we’re in the same classes.”

 “Of course!” exclaimed Lucy. “I made sure of that.” She winked.

 It seemed like Lucy was able to pull a few strings. She was, after all, the student body Vice President. It was easy to get absorbed in conversation with Lucy. She was enthusiastic about everything. Like nothing was wrong. Nothing was ever wrong. A little ball of sunshine. Lucy was always in high spirits and she could light up a room with her mere presence.

 Just what Juvia needed.

 But before she could step into the main building, a sudden powerful feeling slapped her at the back. Juvia felt her heart skip a beat. Her ears throbbed. She recognized that feeling anywhere, anytime.

 Do you know where your love is Do you think that you lost it You felt it so strong, But nothing's turned out how you wanted

 Juvia felt it when he was around, whenever they both were in one room. She turned away from Lucy for a moment and gazed at the side. There he was, at the middle of the sea of running students; making his way towards the main building. The other students passed him by but Juvia’s eyes were fixed at that one person – the raven-haired boy.

 A gripping feeling transfixed her to where she stood. It ravaged her being from head to toe, like a blanket of misery covered her blind and suffocated her in an instant. There was only one person who could cause this feeling, Juvia recognized it easily. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to see him. She knew she was going to bump into him in the school one way or another. Juvia just hoped it wasn’t today.

 Well all I need is the air I breathe and a place to rest my head

 Gray slung his backpack and walked without hurry. It was the first day of school and he was already running late. So, what was the point? He took his time even when the main building was already in sight. He paused, so suddenly that the person behind bumped into him.

 Gray did not hear him apologize. His entire mental and physical functions were focused on one figure standing before the building’s main entrance. Her blue locks were undeniable. It was certainly her, Princess Juvia Lockser in the flesh.

 His heart was racing. Gray played this scenario in his head a hundred times. How should he approach her? What should he say? All his planned responses escaped him now that Juvia appeared before him, a short distance away. He wasn’t dreaming, it was Juvia.

 Get a grip, Gray, he scolded himself. When he finally recovered from the shock, Gray told himself to be polite. First things first, he needed to greet her. Gray settled with offering the princess a smile. He was so unsure what to do that the small line on his face appeared rather awkward.

 Juvia returned the smile, probably out of courtesy. But Gray noticed something missing – the spark. He looked into her ocean eyes; they betrayed her smile because there was nothing there but void, an endless and boundless emptiness.

 A sunken feeling coursed through Gray; restraining him without shackles. He just stood there like an abandoned rock thrown in a rushing river: still and quiet. He was helpless and all he could do was watch Juvia disappear behind the main building’s entrance.

 He silently prayed that she would look back and wished that he was wrong; that the sparkle in her eyes never left. She never did; not even a glance. Gray knew he did not have the right but it did not stop him from carrying a heavy heart all day.

Well, bless my soul, you're a lonely soul Cause you won’t let go of anything you hold

AN: Okay so, as promised! Happy Halloween you guys!